the works of john knox collected and edited by david laing, ll.d. volume first. edinburgh: james thin, south bridge. mdcccxcv. $works of john knox$. the wodrow society, instituted may . for the publication of the works of the fathers and early writers of the reformed church of scotland. the works of $john knox$. collected and edited by $david laing, ll.d.$ volume first. edinburgh: james thin, south bridge. mdcccxcv. ad scotos transeuntibus primo-occurrit magnus ille joannes cnoxus: quem si scotorum in vero dei cultu instaurando, velut apostolum quendam dixero. dixisse me quod res est existimabo. theod. beza. manufactured in the united states of america [illustration] $table of contents$. page advertisement, vii chronological notes of the chief events in the life of john knox, xi history of the reformation in scotland. introductory notice, xxv book first, -- , book second, -- , appendix. no. i.--interpolations and various readings in book first and second in buchanan's editions of the history, in , no. ii.--on the lollards in scotland, during the fifteenth century, no. iii.--patrick hamilton, abbot of ferne, no. iv.--on the royal pilgrimages to the shrine of st. duthack, at tain, in ross-shire, no. v.--foxe's account of henry forrest, and other martyrs in scotland, during the reign of king james the fifth, no. vi.--notices of the protestant exiles from scotland, during the reign of king james the fifth, no. vii.--alexander seyton, no. viii.--sir john borthwick, no. ix.--george wishart, no. x.--john rough, no. xi.--norman lesley, no. xii.--adam wallace, no. xiii.--walter myln, no. xiv.--on the title of sir applied to priests, no. xv.--on the tumult in edinburgh, at the procession on st. giles's day, , no. xvi.--provincial councils in scotland, - , no. xvii.--letter of mary queen of scots to lord james, prior of the monastery of st. andrews. july , no. xviii.--david forrest, general of the mint, [illustration] illustrations page no. i. ioannes cnoxvs. _from_ theod. bezÆ icones, etc., m.d.lxxx. xii no. ii. handwritten preface _facing page_ xxxi no. vii. signature of m jo. knox. xxxiv augusti a^o $advertisement$. this publication of the works of john knox, it is supposed, will extend to five volumes. it was thought advisable to commence the series with his history of the reformation in scotland, as the work of greatest importance. the next volume will thus contain the third and fourth books, which continue the history to the year ; at which period his historical labours may be considered to terminate. but the fifth book, forming a sequel to the history, and published under his name in , will also be included. his letters and miscellaneous writings will be arranged in the subsequent volumes, as nearly as possible in chronological order; each portion being introduced by a separate notice, respecting the manuscript or printed copies from which they have been taken. it may perhaps be expected that a life of the author should have been prefixed to this volume. the life of knox, by dr. m'crie, is however a work so universally known, and of so much historical value, as to supersede any attempt that might be made for a detailed biography; and none of the earlier sketches of his life is sufficiently minute or accurate to answer the purpose intended. in order to obviate the necessity of the reader having recourse to other authorities, i have added some chronological notices of the leading events in his life; reserving to the conclusion of the work any remarks, in connexion with this publication, that may seem to be requisite. i was very desirous of obtaining a portrait of the reformer, to accompany this volume. hitherto all my inquiries have failed to discover any undoubted original painting, among several which have either been so described, or engraved as such.[ ] in the meantime, a tolerably accurate fac-simile is given of the wood-cut portrait of knox,[ ] included by theodore beza, in his volume entitled "icones, _id est_, veræ imagines virorum doctrina simul et pietate illustrium," &c., published at geneva, in the year , to. it is the earliest of the engraved portraits, and, so far as we can judge, it ought to serve as a kind of test by which other portraits must be tried. a similar head engraved on copper, is to be found in verheiden's "præstantium aliquot theologorum, &c., effigies," published at the hague, in , folio; but this, i apprehend, is merely an improved copy from beza, and not taken from an original painting. it does not retain the expressive character of the ruder engraving, although the late sir david wilkie, whose opinion in such matters was second to none, was inclined to prefer this of verheiden to any at least of the later portraits of the reformer.[ ] it may not here be superfluous to mention, that this publication was projected by the editor many years ago, and that some arrangements had been entered into for having it printed in england. when the wodrow society, therefore, expressed a willingness to undertake the work, i proposed as a necessary condition, that i should have the privilege of causing a limited impression to be thrown off, for sale, chiefly in england; and the council, in the most liberal manner, at once acquiesced in this proposal. instead however of availing myself to the full extent of their liberality, which some circumstances rendered less desirable, but in order to avoid throwing, either upon the society or the editor, the extra expenses which have been incurred in various matters connected with the publication, it was finally arranged that a much more limited impression than was first proposed, should be thrown off on paper to be furnished by the bannatyne club, for the use of the members of that institution. november, . $chronological notes$. ioannes cnoxvs. [illustration: _from_ theod. bezÆ icones, etc., m.d.lxxx.] $chronological notes of the chief events in the life of john knox$. [sn: .] knox was born this year, at the village of gifford, near the town of haddington, in east-lothian. his father is said to have been descended from the knoxes of ranferly, in the county of renfrew; and the name of his mother was sinclair. knox himself, in describing an interview with the earl of bothwell, in , mentions that his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, had all served his lordship's predecessors, and that some of them had died under their standards; which implies that they must have been settled for a considerable period in east-lothian, where the hepburns, earls of bothwell, had their chief residence. [sn: .] after being educated at haddington, knox was sent to the university of glasgow; where john major was principal regent or professor of philosophy and divinity. the name "joh[=a]nes knox," occurs in the registers of the university, among those of the students who were incorporated in the year . there is no evidence to shew that he afterwards proceeded to st. andrews, as is usually stated, either to complete his academical education, or publicly to teach philosophy, for which he had not qualified himself by taking his degree of master of arts. if he ever taught philosophy, it must have been in the way of private tuition. [sidenote .] about this time knox took priest's orders; and he was probably connected, for upwards of ten years, with one of the religious establishments in the neighbourhood of haddington. it is generally supposed, that between the years and , in the course of his private studies, the perusal of the writings of augustine and other ancient fathers, led him to renounce scholastic theology, and that he was thus prepared, at a mature period of life, to profess his adherence to the protestant faith. [sn: .] march . the name of "schir john knox" occurs among the witnesses to a deed concerning rannelton law, in a protocol-book belonging to the borough of haddington; and there is no reason to doubt that this was the reformer. [sn: .] knox entered the family of hugh douglas of longniddry, as tutor of his sons francis and george douglas; and also of alexander cockburn, son of john cockburn of ormiston. [sn: .] in this year he attached himself as an avowed adherent of george wishart, from the time of his first visit to east-lothian. [sn: .] george wishart suffered martyrdom at st. andrews, on the st of march - ; and on the th of may that year, cardinal beaton was murdered. [sn: .] april . knox, with his young pupils, entered the castle of st. andrews, as a place of safety from the persecution of the popish clergy. may. at the end of this month, or early in june, he received a public call to the ministry, which he obeyed with great reluctance; but having undertaken the office, he continued, along with john rough, to preach both in the parish church, and in the castle until its surrender. june. the french fleet appeared in st. andrews bay, to lay siege to the castle, which surrendered on the th of july; but in defiance of the terms of capitulation, the chief persons in the place were sent as prisoners on board the french galleys. during this winter, the vessel on board of which knox was confined, remained in the river loire. [sn: .] the vessel returned to scotland, about the time of the siege of haddington in june; and when within sight of st. andrews, knox uttered his memorable prediction, that he would yet survive to preach in that place where god had opened his mouth for the ministry. during this winter, he was kept prisoner at rouen, where he wrote a preface to balnaves's treatise of justification, which was sent to scotland, and until some years after his death, was supposed to be lost. [sn: .] february. knox obtained his liberty, after an imprisonment of nineteen months. he came to england, and soon afterwards was appointed by the english council to be a preacher in the town of berwick. [sn: .] april . knox was summoned to appear at newcastle before dr. tonstall, bishop of durham, to give an account of his doctrine. at the close of this year he was removed from berwick to newcastle, where he continued his ministerial labours. [sn: .] december. knox was appointed by the privy council of england one of six chaplains to edward the sixth. this led to his occasional residence in london during and . [sn: .] october. he received an offer of the bishopric of rochester; but this preferment he declined. [sn: .] in or about february, knox was summoned before the privy council of england, upon complaints made by the duke of northumberland; but was acquitted. april . he also declined accepting the vacant living of all-hallows, in london, and, on account of his refusal, was again summoned before the privy council. edward the sixth died on the th of july, and the persecution of the protestants being revived during the reign of queen mary, most of the reformed ministers and many of the laity made their escape, and sought refuge in foreign countries, in the course of that year. [sn: .] january . knox was at dieppe, where he remained till the end of february. he then proceeded to geneva, but was again at dieppe in july, "to learn the estate of england." april . the queen dowager, mary of guise, was installed regent of scotland. on the th of september, he received a call from the english congregation at frankfort on the maine, to become their minister. he accepted the invitation, and repaired to that city in november. [sn: .] in consequence of the disputes which arose in the english congregation at frankfort, in regard to the use of the book of common prayer, and the introduction of various ceremonies. knox was constrained to relinquish his charge; and having preached a farewell discourse on the th of march, he left that city, and returned to geneva. here he must have resumed his ministerial labours; as, on the st of november that year, in the "livre des anglois, à geneve," it is expressly said, that christopher goodman and anthony gilby were "appointed to preche the word of god and mynyster the sacraments, _in th' absence of john knox_." this refers to his having resolved to visit his native country. knox proceeded to dieppe in august, and in the following month landed on the east coast of scotland, not far from berwick. most of this winter he spent in edinburgh, preaching and exhorting in private. [sn: .] in the beginning of this year knox went to ayrshire, accompanied with several of the leading protestants of that county, and preached openly in the town of ayr, and in other parts of the country. he was summoned to appear before a convention of the popish clergy, on the th of may, at edinburgh. about the same time, he addressed his letter to the queen regent. having received a solicitation for his return to geneva, to become one of their pastors, knox left scotland in july that year. before this time he married marjory bowes. her father was richard, the youngest son of sir ralph bowes of streatlam; her mother was elizabeth, a daughter and co-heiress of sir roger aske of aske. on the th september, knox, along with his wife and his mother-in-law, were formally admitted members of the english congregation. at the annual election of ministers, on the th of december, knox and goodman were re-elected. [sn: .] having received a pressing invitation from scotland, which he considered to be his duty to accept, knox took leave of the congregation at geneva, and came to dieppe; but finding letters of an opposite tenor, dissuading him from coming till a more favourable opportunity, after a time he returned again to geneva. in may, his son nathaniel was born at geneva, and was baptized on the d, william whittingham, afterwards dean of durham, being god-father. on the th of december, knox and goodman still continued to be ministers of the english congregation at geneva. [sn: .] april. mary queen of scots was married, at paris, to francis, dauphin of france. in this year knox republished, with additions, his letter to the queen regent; and also his appellation from the cruel sentence of the bishops and clergy of scotland; and his first blast of the trumpet against the regiment of women. in november, his son eleazar was born at geneva, and was baptized on the th, myles coverdale, formerly bishop of exeter, being witness or god-father. november . upon the death of mary queen of england, elizabeth ascended the throne. on the th december, knox and goodman were again re-elected ministers of the english congregation. [sn: .] january . knox took his final departure from geneva, in consequence of an invitation to return to scotland; and was on that occasion honoured with the freedom of the city. in march, he arrived at dieppe, and finding that the english government refused to grant him a safeconduct, on the d april he embarked for leith, and reached edinburgh on the d may. during that month, the queen regent published a declaration against the protestants, and the lords of the congregation sent a deputation to remonstrate; but their remonstrance being despised, they took arms in self-defence. june . knox preached in st. andrews; and at perth on the th, when the populace defaced several of the churches or monasteries in that city. july . he was elected minister of edinburgh. owing to the troubles, within a brief space he was obliged to relinquish his charge; but he continued his labours elsewhere for a time, chiefly at st. andrews. july . on the death of henry ii. of france, his son francis, who had espoused mary queen of scots, and had obtained the matrimonial crown of scotland in november , at the age of sixteen, ascended the throne of france. august . the protestants assembled at stirling, and having resolved to solicit aid from england, on the d of that month knox proceeded to berwick to hold a conference with sir james crofts. in this month, he sent calvin a favourable report of his labours since his arrival in scotland: calvin's answer to this communication is dated in november. september . knox's wife and children, accompanied by christopher goodman, arrived in edinburgh. october . the protestants entered edinburgh, while the queen regent retired to leith, with the french troops which had come to her aid. [sn: .] february . a treaty concluded between england and the lords of the congregation. the english fleet blockaded the port of leith, and furnished reinforcements, their troops at the same time having entered scotland. april. at the end of this month, knox had returned to edinburgh. his work on predestination was published this year at geneva. june . the queen regent died in the castle of edinburgh. articles of peace were concluded in july. august . the scotish parliament assembled; and, on the th, the confession of faith was ratified, and the protestant religion formally established. december . francis ii. of france, the husband of mary queen of scots, died. december . the first meeting of the general assembly was held at edinburgh. at the end of this year, knox's wife died, leaving him the two sons above mentioned. [sn: .] an invitation having been sent by the protestant nobility to their young queen, to revisit scotland, she arrived from france, and assumed the government, on the th of august. [sn: .] may. knox engaged in a dispute at maybole, with quintin kennedy, abbot of crossragwell; of which dispute he published an account in the following year. december. he was summoned to appear before the privy council, on account of a circular letter which he had addressed to the chief protestants, in virtue of a commission granted to him by the general assembly. [sn: .] the town of edinburgh formed only one parish. knox, when elected minister, had the assistance of john cairns as reader. john craig, minister of the canongate or holyrood, had been solicited to become his colleague, in april ; but his appointment did not take place till june . [sn: .] march. knox married to his second wife, margaret stewart, daughter of andrew lord ochiltree. june . he was appointed by the general assembly to visit the churches in aberdeen and the north of scotland. the following assembly, th of december, gave him a similar appointment for fife and perthshire. [sn: .] knox was summoned before the privy council, on account of a sermon which, on the th of august, he had preached in st. giles's church. [sn: .] in this year he appears to have written the most considerable portion of his history of the reformation; having commenced the work in or . in consequence of the unsettled state of public affairs, after the murder of david riccio, th of march, knox left edinburgh, and retired for a time to kyle. june . james the sixth was born in the castle of edinburgh. december. knox obtained permission from the general assembly to proceed to england, having received from the english government a safeconduct, to visit his two sons, who were residing with some of their mother's relations. [sn: .] february . henry lord darnley was murdered. april . bothwell carried off queen mary to the castle of dunbar; and their marriage was celebrated on the th of may. june . bothwell fled from carberry-hill to dunbar; and the queen was brought to edinburgh, and afterwards confined in lochleven castle. about the same time, knox returned from england. july . at the king's coronation at stirling, knox preached an inaugural sermon on these words, "i was crowned young." august . james earl of murray was appointed regent of scotland. december . knox preached at the opening of parliament; and on the th, the confession of faith, which had been framed and approved by parliament in , with various acts in favour of the reformed religion, was solemnly ratified. [sn: .] may . queen mary escaped from lochleven; but her adherents, who had assembled at langside, being defeated, she fled into england, and was imprisoned by queen elizabeth for the rest of her life; having been beheaded at fotheringay on the th of february - . [sn: .] january . the earl of murray was assassinated at linlithgow; and on occasion of his funeral, knox preached a sermon on these words, "blessed are the dead who die in the lord." (rev. xiv. .) [sn: .] july . matthew earl of lennox was elected regent of scotland; but was assassinated on the th of september. on the following day, john earl of mar was chosen regent. october. knox had a stroke of apoplexy, but was enabled occasionally to resume his ministerial labours. [sn: .] may . the troubles which then agitated the country induced knox to quit the metropolis, and to retire to st. andrews. september. the news arrived of the massacre of the protestants on st. bartholomew's eve, th of august, at paris, and in other parts of france. [sn: .] july. on the cessation of hostilities, at the end of this month, a deputation from the citizens of edinburgh was sent to st. andrews, with a letter to knox, expressive of their earnest desire "that once again his voice might be heard among them." he returned in august, having this year published, at st. andrews, his answer to tyrie the jesuit. the earl of mar died on the th of october; and james earl of morton, on the th of november, was elected regent of scotland. on the same day, the th of november, having attained the age of sixty-seven, knox closed "his most laborious and most honourable career." he was buried in the church-yard of st. giles; but, as in the case of calvin, at geneva, no monument was erected to mark the place where he was interred. * * * * * knox left a widow, and two sons by his first marriage, and three daughters by the second. in the concluding volume will be given a genealogical tree, or notices of his descendants. $the history$ of the $reformation in scotland$. [illustration] $introductory notice to the history$. in the long series of events recorded in the annals of scotland, there is unquestionably none of greater importance than those which exhibit the progress and establishment of the reformed religion in the year . this subject has accordingly called forth in succession a variety of writers of different sentiments and persuasions. although in the contemporary historians, lesley, buchanan, and their successors, we have more or less copious illustrations of that period, yet a little examination will show that we possess only one work which bears an exclusive reference to this great event, and which has any claims to be regarded as the production of an original historian. fortunately the writer of the work alluded to was of all persons the best qualified to undertake such a task, not only from his access to the various sources of information, and his singular power and skill in narrating events and delineating characters, but also from the circumstance that he himself had a personal and no unimportant share in most of the transactions of those times, which have left the character of his own mind so indelibly impressed on his country and its institutions. it is scarcely necessary to subjoin the name of john knox. the doubts which were long entertained respecting knox's share in the "history of the reformation," have been satisfactorily explained. such passages as were adduced to prove that he could not have been the author, consist of palpable errors and interpolations. without adverting to these suspicions, we may therefore attend to the time when the work was actually written. * * * * * the necessity of leaving upon record a correct account of their proceedings suggested itself to the reformers at an early period of their career, and led to this history being commenced. knox arrived in scotland in may ; and by his presence and counsels, he served to animate and direct their measures, which were attended with so much success. in a letter dated from edinburgh d october that year, while alluding to the events which had taken place during their contentions with the queen regent and her french auxiliaries, he uses these words, "our most just requeastes, which ye shall, god willing, schortlie hereafter onderstand, together with our whole proceeding from the beginning of this matter, _which we ar to sett furth in maner of historie_." that he had commenced the work, further appears from a letter, dated edinburgh, d september , and addressed to secretary cecil by the english ambassador, randolph, in which he says, "i have tawlked at large with mr. knox concerning his hystorie. as mykle as ys written thereof shall be sent to your honour, at the comynge of the lords embassadours, by mr. john woode. he hath wrytten only one booke. if yow lyke that, he shall continue the same, or adde onie more. he sayethe, that he must have farther helpe then is to be had in thys countrie, for more assured knowledge of thyngs passed than he hath hymself, or can come bye here: yt is a work not to be neglected, and greatly wyshed that yt sholde be well handled." whether this portion of the work was actually communicated to cecil at that time, is uncertain; as no such manuscript has been discovered among his papers, either in the british museum or the state paper office. it could only have consisted of part of the second book; and this portion remains very much in its original state, as may be inferred from these two passages.--in july , while exposing "the craftyness of the queen regent," in desiring a private conference with the earl of argyle and lord james stewart, with the hope that she might be able to withdraw them from their confederates, we read, "and one of hir cheaf counsale in those dayis, (_and we fear but over inward with hir yit_,) said," &c. see page of this volume. this must necessarily have been written during the queen regent's life, or previously to june . during the following month, after noticing the earl of arran's escape from france, and the imprisonment of his younger brother, lord david hamilton, it is stated, "for the same tyme, the said frensche king, seing he could not have the erle him self, gart put his youngar brother ... in strait prisoun, _quhair he yitt remaneis, to witt, in the moneth of october, the yeir of god_ ." see page . in like manner, in a letter of intelligence, dated at hamilton, th october , and addressed to cecil, randolph says, "since nesbot went from hence, the duke never harde out of fraunce, _nor newes of his son the lord david_."--(sadler's state papers, vol. i. p. .) we might have supposed that his restraint was not of long duration, as he is named among the hostages left in england, at the treaty of berwick, th february - ; a circumstance of which knox could not have been ignorant, as he gives a copy of the confirmation of the treaty by the duke of chastelherault and the lords of the congregation; but it appears from one of the articles in the treaty of peace in july, that lord david hamilton, who was still a prisoner at bois de st. vincent, in france, then obtained liberty to return to scotland; and he arrived at edinburgh in october . we are therefore warranted to infer that this portion of the second book of his history, must have been written towards the end of the year . knox himself in his general preface, says, the intention was to have limited the period of the history from the year , until the arrival of queen mary from france to assume the government in this country, in august ; thus extending the period originally prescribed beyond the actual attainment of the great object at which the reformers aimed, in the overthrow of popish superstition, and the establishment by civil authority of the protestant faith, which was actually secured by the proceedings of the parliament that met at edinburgh on the st of august . but he further informs us, that he was persuaded not only to add the first book as an introduction, but to continue the narrative to a later period. this plan of extending the work he carried into effect in the year , when the first and fourth books were chiefly written, and when there is reason to believe that he revised and enlarged the intermediate portion, at least by dividing it into two parts, as books second and third. the fourth book extends to the year ; and he seems to intimate that he himself had no intention to continue the history to a later period; for alluding to the death of david riccio, in march - , he says, "of whom we delay now farther to speik, becaus that his end will requyre the descriptioun of the whole, _and referris it unto suche as god sall rayse up to do the same_;" and a marginal note on this passage, written probably by richard bannatyne in , says "_this ves never done be this authour_." dr. m'crie states, that "the first and fourth books were composed during the years , , and ," and that "some additions were made to the fourth book so late as ." the only evidence to support this supposition, is founded upon the circumstance of some marginal notes having been added in those years, and introduced by subsequent transcribers, as belonging to the text. whether the fifth book, published by david buchanan in , was actually written by the reformer, will be considered in the preliminary notice to that book. meanwhile it may be remarked, that the author himself whilst occasionally engaged in collecting materials for a continuation of his history, felt the necessity of delaying the publication; and in a letter addressed to mr. john wood, th february - , he expresses the resolution he had formed of withholding the work from the public during his own life. manuscript copies of the history. the manuscript of the history of the reformation which has been followed in this edition, fully confirms the preceding statements regarding the period of its composition. it also serves to shew that no suppressions or alterations had been made by his friends, after his death, in these four books. such an intention is alluded to, in a letter, dated from stirling, th august , and addressed to randolph, by george buchanan:--"as to maister knox, his historie is in hys freindes handes, and thai ar in consultation to mitigat sum part the acerbite of certain wordis, and sum taunts wherein he has followit too muche sum of your inglis writaris, as m. hal. et suppilatorem ejus graftone, &c." the manuscript contains four books, transcribed by several hands, and at different intervals. notwithstanding this diversity of hand-writing, there is every reason to believe that the most considerable part of the volume was written in the year , although it is not improbable that in the second and third books a portion of the original ms. of may have been retained. the marginal notes, which specify particular dates, chiefly refer to the years , or , and they leave no doubt in regard to the actual period when the bulk of the ms. was written, as those bearing the date are clearly posterior to the transcription of the pages where they occur. some of these notes, as well as a number of minute corrections, are evidently in knox's own hand; but the latter part of book fourth could not have been transcribed until the close of the year . this is proved by the circumstance that the words, "bot wnto this day, the . of december ," form an integral part of the text, near the foot of fol. , in "the ressonyng betuix the maister of maxwell and john knox." the whole of this section indeed is written somewhat hastily, like a scroll-copy, probably by richard bannatyne, his secretary, from dictation; but whether it was merely rewritten in , or first added in that year to complete book fourth, must be left to conjecture. i.--manuscript of .--in the editor's possession. the accompanying leaf exhibits an accurate fac-simile of part of the first page of the ms; and it is worthy of notice, that in the wodrow miscellany, vol. i. p. , a fac-simile of a paper entitled "the kirkis testimonial, &c.," dated th december , is evidently by the same hand.[ ] it has the signatures of three of the superintendents, erskine of dun, john spottiswood, and john wynram, as well as that of john knox. as this was a public document, and was no doubt written by the clerk of the general assembly, we may infer that knox's amanuensis, in , was either john gray, who was scribe or clerk to the assembly from till his death in , or one of the other scribes whom knox mentions, in his interview with queen mary, in , as having implicit confidence in their fidelity. but this is no very important point to determine, since the manuscript itself bears such unequivocal proofs of having passed through the author's hands. two short extracts, (corresponding with pages and of this volume,) are also selected on account of the marginal notes, both of which i think are in knox's own hand. further specimens of such notes or corrections will be given in the next volume. at fol. , four leaves are left blank to allow the form of "the election of the superintendant" to be inserted; but this can be supplied from either the glasgow ms. or the early printed copies. a more important omission would have been the first book of discipline, but this the ms. fortunately contains, in a more genuine state than is elsewhere preserved; and it will form no unimportant addition to the next volume of the history. the volume consists of folios, chiefly written, as already stated, in the year . no trace of its earlier possessors can be discovered; but the name of "mr. matthew reid, minister of north-berwick" (from to ,) written on the first page, identifies it with a notice, which is given by the editor of the edition: "there is also a complete ms. copy of the first four books of this history belonging now to mr. gavin hamilton, bookseller in edinburgh, which formerly belonged to the late reverend mr. matthew reid, minister of the gospel at north-berwick; it is written in a very old hand, the old spelling is kept, and i am informed that it exactly agrees with the glasgow ms., with which it was collated, during the time this edition was a printing." (page liii.) this ms., came into the possession of the rev. john jamieson, d.d., probably long before the publication of his etymological dictionary in , where he mentions his having two mss. of knox's history, (this, and the one marked no. viii.) in his list of authorities; but neither of them was known, and consequently had never been examined by dr. m'crie. at the sale of dr. jamieson's library in , both mss. were purchased by the editor. in the firm persuasion that this ms. must have been written not only during the reformer's life, but under his immediate inspection, and that all the existing copies were derived from it, more or less directly, i should have held it a most unprofitable labour to have collated the other mss., for no other purpose than to notice the endless variations, omissions, and mistakes of later transcribers. the reader may think i have paid too much regard in this respect to the various readings or errors in vautrollier's suppressed edition, and in the glasgow manuscript; but these copies being the only ones referable to the sixteenth century, are deserving of greater attention than those of a more recent age, while the variations pointed out frequently serve to account for the mistakes in the later transcripts. but before explaining the manner in which this edition has been printed, it may be proper to enumerate the other manuscripts which are known to be preserved; and i may take this opportunity of expressing to the several proprietors my grateful acknowledgments for the free use of the copies specified. ii.--vautr. edit.--printed at london in or . this edition, described at page xxxix, is here introduced as representing an intermediate ms., from which some of the existing copies were apparently derived. thomas vautrollier the printer, a native of france, came to england in the beginning of queen elizabeth's reign. he retired to scotland in the year , and printed several works at edinburgh in that and the following year. in , he returned to london, carrying with him a manuscript copy of knox's history, which he put to press; but all the copies were seized before the work was completed. the manuscript copy which he had obtained is not known to be preserved; but there is no reason to doubt that it was taken directly from the ms. of . this appears from the marginal notes and a variety of minute coincidences, perceptible on collating the printed portion. we may likewise conclude, that from it several of the later transcripts were taken of the introductory portion, and the fourth book, to complete the text of the unfinished printed volume. iii. ms. g.--in the university library, glasgow. in folio, containing leaves, written before the end of the sixteenth century. this ms. was long considered to be the earliest and most authentic copy of the history, and consequently no small degree of importance was attached to it. many years ago, (before i was aware of the existence of the ms. of ,) i obtained, through the rev. dr. m'turk, late professor of ecclesiastical history, the use of this manuscript for the purpose of collation; but i found that the text was so faithfully given in the edinburgh edition , folio, with the single exception of omitting such marginal notes as the ms. contains, that an entire collation of the text might only have exhibited slight occasional changes in orthography. at that time the ms. formed two volumes, in the old parchment covers, with uncut leaves; it has since been half-bound in one volume, and the edges unmercifully cropped. at the beginning of the volume there is inserted a separate leaf, being the title of a distinct work, having the signature of "m. jo. knox," in , probably the nephew of the reformer, who became minister of melrose. it has no connexion with the volume in which it is preserved; but it led to some vague conjectures that the writer of the history itself may have been "the younger mr. knox, seeing the former died in the year , and the other was alive nine years after;" or else, "that the latter mr. knox had perfected the work, pursuant to the order of the general assembly in the year or , so far as it was to be found in this ms."[ ] respecting the time of transcription, one minute circumstance is worthy of notice: knox in one place introduces the words, "as may be, &c., _in this year_ ," the copier has made it, "in this year ," an error not likely to have been committed previously to that year. but the hand-writing is clearly of a date about , although the fourth book may have been a few years earlier. the absence of all those peculiar blunders which occur in vautrollier's edition, evinces that the glasgow ms. was derived from some other source; while the marginal notes in that edition are a sufficient proof that the ms. in question was not the one employed by the english printer. it is in fact a tolerably accurate copy of the ms. of , with the exception of the marginal notes, and the entire omission of the first book of discipline. nearly all the marginal notes in the first and third books are omitted; and others having been incorporated with the text, led to the supposition that knox himself had revised the history at a later period of life. [illustration: signature: m jo. knox. augusti a^o ] this manuscript was presented to the university of glasgow by the rev. robert fleming, minister of a scotish congregation in london, and son of the author of "the fulfilling of the scriptures." wodrow communicated to bishop nicolson, a collation of the ms. with buchanan's folio edition of , pointing out many of his interpolations. this letter was inserted by nicolson in the appendix to his scotish historical library.[ ] iv. ms. a. ( .)--in the advocates library. in to, pp. . this ms. was acquired by the faculty of advocates, in , with the mass of wodrow's mss.--it is very neatly written by charles lumisden, whose name (but partially erased) with the date , occurs on the fly-leaf. wodrow was correct in imagining that the greater portion of the volume was transcribed from vautrollier's edition, some of the more glaring typographical errors being corrected; but in fact this copy was made from a previous transcript by lumisden, to be mentioned as no. x. ms. w. it contains however the fourth book of the history; and wodrow has collated the whole very carefully with the glasgow ms., and has marked the chief corrections and variations in the margin. v. ms. a. ( .)--in the advocates library. in folio. this volume also belonged to the wodrow collection. it is written in a very careless, slovenly manner, after the year , by one thomas wood; and is scarcely entitled to be reckoned in the number of the mss., as it omits large portions. thus, on the title of book fourth, it is called "a collection from the fourth book," &c. vi. ms. e.--in the university library, edinburgh. in folio, leaves, written in an ordinary hand, apparently about the year . it contains the four books, and includes both the first and second books of discipline; but it omits all the marginal notes, and displays very little accuracy on the part of the transcriber. it is in fact a transcript from the identical copy of vautrollier's edition, described as no. xiii., from its adopting the various marginal corrections and emendations on the printed portions of that copy. vii. ms. i.--in the possession of david irving, ll. d. in folio, leaves, written in a neat hand, and dated . it contains the four books; but, like the three preceding mss., it may without doubt be regarded as a transcript from vautrollier's edition, with the addition of book fourth of the history. it also contains both the first and second books of discipline, copied from calderwood's printed edition of , with such minute fidelity, as even to add the list of typographical "errata" at the end, with the references to the page and line of that edition. viii. ms. l. ( .)--in the editor's possession. in folio, leaves, written probably between and . it wants several leaves at the beginning, and breaks off with the third book, adding the acts of parliament against the mass, &c., passed in . it formerly belonged to the rev. dr. jamieson, and was purchased at his sale in . the press-marks on the fly leaf may probably identify the collection to which it formerly belonged, " h. .--hist. ," and "a. ." notwithstanding a ms. note by dr. jamieson, it is a transcript of no value, corresponding in most points with vautrollier's edition. ix. ms. n.--in the library at newtondon. in folio, pp. . this is a ms. of still less importance, but it serves to show the rarity of vautrollier's printed edition, previously to the appearance of buchanan's editions in . on the first leaf, the celebrated covenanting earl of glencairne has written,-- "this is the copie of johne knox his chronicle, coppiede in the yeere of god .--glencairne." it is in fact a literal transcript from a defective copy of the old suppressed edition; as the blanks in the ms. at pages , , and pages , , which break off, or commence at the middle of a sentence, would be completely supplied by pages , , and pages , , of vautrollier's text. at page , only the heads of the confession of faith are inserted, "but (it is added) yee shall find them fullie set downe in the first parliament of king james the sext, holden at edinburgh the of december , by james earle of murray, regent to this realme." this ms. ends with page of the printed copy; and after the words "would not suffer this corrupt generation to approve," instead of commencing with the book of discipline, from page , there is added, "_and because the whole booke of discipline, both first and secund, is sensyne printed by the selfe in one booke, i cease to insert it heere, and referres the reader to the said booke. finis._" x. ms. w.--in the possession of richard whytock, esq., edinburgh. in to, pp. , not perfect. it is in the hand-writing of charles lumisden, who succeeded his father as minister of duddingstone, and who, during the reign of charles the first, was much employed in transcribing. it is unquestionably copied from vautrollier's printed edition, but many of the palpable mistakes have been corrected, and the orthography improved. in general the marginal notes are retained, while some others, apparently derived from david buchanan's printed text, are added in a different hand. like vautrollier's edition, at page , this ms. breaks off with the first portion of the book of discipline, at the end of book third of the history. such are the manuscript copies of knox's history which are known to be preserved. there are however still existing detached portions of the history, made with the view of completing the defective parts of vautrollier's edition; and these may also be briefly indicated. xi. ms. c.--in the library of the church of scotland. this ms., in folio, was purchased by the general assembly in , from the executors of the rev. matthew crawfurd. the volume is in the old parchment cover, and has the autograph of "alex. colvill" on the first page. but it contains only the preliminary leaves of the text, and the concluding portion of the first book of discipline, (the previous portion being oddly copied at the end of it;) and book fourth of the history, all in the hand of a dutch amanuensis, about , for the purpose of supplying the imperfections of the suppressed edition. xii. ms. m.--in a copy of vautrollier's edition, which belonged to the rev. dr. m'crie, and is now in the possession of his son, the rev. thomas m'crie, the same portions are supplied in an early hand, containing eight leaves at the beginning, and ninety-nine at the end, along with a rude ornamented title, and a portrait of knox, copied by some unpractised hand from one of the old engravings. it contains the concluding portion of the first book of discipline, but several of the paragraphs in book fourth of the history are abridged or omitted. xiii. ms. l. ( .)--a copy of the same volume, with these portions similarly supplied, and including both the first and second books of discipline, appeared at the sale of george paton's library, in . it is now in the editor's possession. a number of the errors in printing have been carefully corrected on the margin, in an old hand; and the ms. portions are written in the same hand with no. vi. ms. e. of the entire work, which is literally transcribed from this identical copy. xiv. and xv. mss. l. ( and .)--i have also a separate transcript of book fourth, in folio, leaves, written about the year ; and another portion, in small vo, written in a still older hand, for the purpose of being bound with the suppressed edition. printed editions of the history. vautrollier's unfinished and suppressed edition, in or , has already been noticed at page xxxii. the fate of this edition is thus recorded by calderwood, in his larger ms. history:--"february . vauttrollier the printer took with him a copy of mr. knox's history to england, and printed twelve hundred of them; the stationers, at the archbishop's command, seized them the of february [ - ]; it was thought that he would get leave to proceed again, because the council perceived that it would bring the queen of scots in detestation." the execution of the unfortunate queen, which followed so soon after, or the death of the printer himself, in , may have prevented its completion. but copies had speedily come into circulation in its unfinished state. thus dr. (afterwards archbishop) bancroft, who frequently quotes this suppressed edition, says,--"if euer you meete with the historie of the church of scotland, penned by maister knox, and printed by vautrouillier: reade the pages quoted here in the margent."--(a survay of the pretended holy discipline, &c. imprinted at london, by iohn wolfe, , to, p. .) it is most inaccurately printed.[ ] this may have been partly owing to the state of the ms. which he had procured in scotland, as well as to haste in printing, and ignorance of the names of persons and places which occur in the work. the following is a fac-simile reprint of the first page, which corresponds with pages - of the present volume:-- chvrch of scotland. by these articles which god of his mercifull prouidence causeth the enemies of his truth to keepe in their registers maye appeare how mercifully god hath looked vppon this realme, retayning within it some sparke of his light, euen in the time of greatest darknes. neither ought any m[=a] to wonder albeit that some things be obscurely and some thinges doubtfully spoken. but rather ought al faithfull to magnifie gods mercy who without publike doctrine gaue so great light. and further we ought to consider that seeing that the enemies of iesus christe gathered the foresaide articles there vppon to accuse the persones aforesaide, that they woulde depraue the meaninge of gods seruauntes so farre as they coulde, as we doubt not but they haue done, in the heads of excommunication, swearing and of matrimony: in the which it is no doubt but the seruaunts of god did damne the abuse onelye, and not the right ordinance of god: for who knowes not that excommunication in these dayes was altogeather abused? that swearing aboundeth without punishment or remorse of conscience: and that diuorcementes was made, for such causes as worldly men had inuented: but to our history. albeit that the accusation of the bishop and of his complices was very grieuous, yet god so assisted his seruauntes partly by inclining the kinges heart to gentlenes (for diuerse of them were his great familiars) and partly by giuing bold and godly aunswers to their accusators, that the enemies in the ende were frustrate of their purpose. for while the bishop in mockage saide to adam reade of blaspheming, read beleeue ye that god is in heauen? he answered not as i do the sacramentes seuen: whereat the bishop thinking to haue triumphed said: sir loe vautrollier's edition is a small vo, commencing with signature b, page , and breaking off with signature mm, page , or near the beginning of the th chapter of the book of discipline, which knox has introduced at the conclusion of book third of his history. copies of this volume in fine condition are of rare occurrence. the edition of the history published at london by david buchanan in , and reprinted at edinburgh in the same year, in all probability under his own inspection, will be more particularly noticed in the following volume. it might perhaps have been well had this publication been actually prohibited, as milton[ ] seems to indicate was not unlikely to have taken place. so much use at least had been made of the unwarrantable liberties taken by the editor, in altering and adding passages, as for a length of time to throw discredit on the whole work. at length there appeared the very accurate edition, published at edinburgh , with a life of the author, by the rev. matthew crawfurd. besides this and the two editions published in a more popular form by william m'gavin, at glasgow, there are numerous modernized and spurious republications, all of them taken from buchanan's interpolated editions, and published at edinburgh, glasgow, and dundee, between the years and . even at an early period, both calderwood, who had made such copious extracts from the work, and spottiswood, who expressed his doubts respecting its authorship, appear to have employed vautrollier's inaccurate edition. the necessity of publishing the work with greater care and in its most genuine form, will therefore by readily admitted. the acquisition of the manuscript of , has enabled the editor to accomplish this, to a certain extent, by presenting the text of the history in the precise form "wherein he hath continued and perfectly ended at the year of god ," according to the declaration made to the first general assembly which met after his death. having such a ms. to follow, i have adhered to it with much more scrupulous accuracy, in regard to the othography,[ ] than otherwise might have been deemed advisable. at first sight, indeed, the language may appear somewhat uncouth, and it may require a glossary to be subjoined; but it was of essential importance that the work should be published in its original form, with the author's own marginal notes and relections, as the genuine production of the great scotish reformer. * * * * * the labour bestowed by the author in collecting information, with the desire of giving a true and faithful history of these transactions, rendered it also desirable that more than ordinary care should be bestowed in illustrating his narrative. for this purpose, i have taken considerable pains to identify the persons and places mentioned in the course of this history. knox himself, on more than one occasion, states, that while he was careful in relating facts, he was no observer of _times_ and _seasons_, in other words, that he made no pretensions to minute accuracy in dates. it became the more necessary to devote particular attention, either to confirm or correct his dates, by reference to contemporary documents; and no source that was accessible has been overlooked, although i am fully sensible that i may have failed in making suitable use of the information thus obtained. i have at least endeavoured to avoid cumbering the page with notes, unless where they seemed necessary to illustrate the text; and i consider no apology to be required for the articles inserted in the appendix. the first booke of the history of the reformatioun of religioun within the realme of scotland: conteanyng the maner and by what persons the light of christis evangell hath bene manifested unto this realme, after that horrible and universall defectioun from the trewth, which hes cume by the meanes of that romane antichrist. the preface. to the gentill readar, grace and peace frome god the father of our lord jesus christ, with the perpetuall encrease of the holy spreit.[ ] it is not unknowen, christeane reader, that the same clud[ ] of ignorance, that long hath darkened many realmes under this accurssed kingdome of that romane antichrist, hath also owercovered this poore realme; that idolatrie[ ] hath bein manteined, the bloode of innocentis hath bene sched, and christ jesus his eternall treuth hath bene abhorred, detested, and blasphemed. but that same god that caused light to schyne out of darknes, in the multitud of his mercyes, hath of long tyme opened the eis[ ] of some evin within this realme, to see the vanitie of that which then was universally embrased for trew religioun; and hes gevin unto them strenth to oppone thame selfis unto the same: and now, into these our last and moist corrupt dayis, hath maid his treuth so to triumphe amonges us, that, in despyte of sathan, hipochrisye is disclosed, and the trew wyrschipping of god is manifested to all the inhabitantis of this realme whose eis[ ] sathan blyndis not, eyther by thair fylthy lustes, or ellis by ambitioun, and insatiable covetousnes, which maek them repung to the power of god working by his worde. and becaus we ar not ignorant what diverse bruittis war dispersed of us, the professoures of jesus christ within this realme, in the begynnyng of our interprise, ordour was lackin, that all our proceidingis should be committed to register; as that thei war, by such as then paynfullie travailled[ ] boith by toung and pen; and so was collected a just volume, (as after will appeir,) conteanyng thingis done frome the fyftie-awght[ ] year of god, till the arrivall of the quenis majestie furth of france,[ ] with the which the collectour and writtar for that tyme was content, and never mynded further to have travailled in that kynd of writting.[ ] but, after invocatioun of the name of god, and after consultatioun with some faythfull,[ ] what was thought by thame expedient to advance goddis glorie, and to edifie this present generatioun, and the posteritie to come, it was concluded, that faythfull rehersall should be maid of such personages as god had maid instrumentis of his glorie, by opponyng of thame selfis to manifest abuses, superstitioun, and idolatrie; and, albeit thare be no great nomber, yet ar thei mo then the collectour wold have looked for at the begynnyng, and thairfoir is the volume some what enlarged abuif his expectatioun: and yit, in the begynnyng, mon we crave of all the gentill readaris, not to look of us such ane history as shall expresse all thingis that have occurred within this realme, during the tyme of this terrible conflict that hes bene betuix the sanctes of god and these bloody wolves who clame to thame selves the titill of clargie, and to have authoritie ower the saules of men; for, with the pollicey,[ ] mynd we to meddill no further then it hath religioun mixed with it. and thairfoir albeit that many thingis which wer don be omitted, yit, yf we invent no leys, we think our selves blamless in that behalf. of one other [thing] we mon foirwarne the discreat readaris, which is, that thei be not offended that the sempill treuth be spokin without partialitie; for seing that of men we neyther hunt for reward, nor yitt for vane[ ] glorie, we litill pass by the approbatioun of such as seldome judge weill of god and of his workis. lett not thairfoir the readar wonder, albeit that our style vary and speik diverslie of men, according as thei have declared thame selves sometymes ennemyes and sometymes freindis, sometymes fervent, sometymes cold, sometymes constant, and sometymes changeable in the cause of god and of his holy religioun: for, in this our simplicitie, we suppoise that the godlie shall espy our purpose, which is, that god may be praised for his mercy schawin, this present age may be admonished to be thankfull for goddis benefittis offerred, and the posteritie to cum may be instructed how wonderouslie hath the light of christ jesus prevailled against darkness in this last and most corrupted age. historiÆ initium.[ ] in the scrollis of glasgw is found mentioun of one whais name is not expressed,[ ] that, in the year of god , was burnt for heresye;[ ] bot what war his opinionis, or by what ordour he was condempned, it appearis not evidentlie. but our cronikilles mack mentioun, that in the dayis of king james the first, about the year of god , was deprehended in the universitie of sanctandrose, one named paull craw,[ ] a bohame,[ ] who was accused of heresye befoir such as then war called doctouris of theologie. his accusatioun consisted principallye, that he followed johnne husse and wyckleif, in the opinioun of the sacrament, who denyed that the substance of braid and wyn war changed be vertew of any wourdis; or that confessioun should be maid to preastis; or yitt prayeris to sanctes departed. whill that god geve unto him grace to resist thame, and not to consent to thair impietie, he was committed to the secular judge, (for our bischoppis follow pilat, who boith did condempne, and also wesche[ ] his handis,) who condempned him to the fyre; in the quhilk he was consumed in the said citie of sanctandrose, about the time afoir writtin. and to declair thame selvis to be the generatioun of sathan, who, from the begynnyng, hath bein ennemy to the treuth, and he that desyrith the same to be hyd frome the knowledge of men, thei putt a ball of brass in his mouth, to the end that he should nott geve confessioun of his fayth to the people, neyther yit that thei should understand the defence which he had against thair injust accusatioun and condemnatioun. bot that thair fatheris practise did nott greatlie advance thair kingdome of darknes, nether yit was it able utterlie to extingueise the trewth: for albeit, that in the dayis of kingis james the secund and thrid, we fynd small questioun of religioun moved within this realme, yit in the tyme of king james the fourt, in the saxt year of his reigne, and in the twenty-twa yeir of his age, which was in the year of god , war summoned befoir the king and his great counsell, by robert blackedar called archebischope of glasgw,[ ] the nomber of thretty personis, remanyng some in kyle-stewart, some in kingis-kyile, and some in cunyghame;[ ] amonges whome,[ ] george campbell of sesnok, adame reid of barskymming, johne campbell of new mylnes, andro shaw of polkemmate, helen chalmour lady pokillie,[ ] [marion][ ] chalmours lady stairs: these war called the lolardis of kyle. thei war accused of the articles following, as we have receaved thame furth of the register[ ] glasgw. * * * * * i. first, that images ar not to be had, nor yitt to be wirschepped. ii. that the reliques of sanctes are not to be wirschepped. iii. that lawis and ordinances of men vary frome tyme to tyme, and that by the pape. iv. that it is not lauchfull to feght, or to defend the fayth. (we translait according to the barbarousnes of thair latine and dictament.[ ]) v. that christ gave power to petir onlie, and not to his successouris, to bynd and lowse within the kyrk. vi. that christ ordeyned no preastis to consecrat. vii. that after the consecratioun in the messe, thare remanes braid;[ ] and that thair is nott the naturall body of christ. viii. that teythes aught not to be given to ecclesiasticall men, (as thei war then called.) ix. that christ at his cuming has tackin away power from kingis to judge.[ ] (this article we dowbt not to be the vennemouse accusatioun of the ennemyes, whose practise has ever bene to mack the doctrin of jesus christ suspect to kingis and rewllaris, as that god thairby wold depose thame of thair royall seattis, whare by the contrair, nothing confermes the power of magistrates more then dois goddis wourd.--but to the articles.) x. that everie faythfull man or woman is a preast. xi. that the unctioun of kingis ceassed at the cuming of christ. xii. that the pape is not the successour of petir, but whare he said, "go behynd me, sathan." xiii. that the pape deceavis the people by his bulles and his indulgenses. xiv. that the messe profiteth not the soules that ar in purgatorye. xv. that the pape and the bischoppis deceave the people by thare pardonis. xvi. that indulgenses aught not to be granted to feght against the saracenes. xvii. that the pape exaltis him self against god, and abuf god. xviii. that the pape can nott remitt the panes of purgatorye. xix. that the blessingis of the bischoppis (of dum doggis thei should have bein stilled) ar of non valew. xx. that the excommunicatioun of the kirk is not to be feared. xxi. that in to no case is it lauchfull to swear. xxii. that preastis mycht have wieffis, according to the constitutioun of the law. xxiii. that trew christianes receave the body of jesus christ everie day. xxiv. that after matrimonye be contracted, the kyrk may mack no divorcement. xxv. that excommunicatioun byndis nott. xxvi. that the pape forgevis not synnes, bot only god. xxvii. that fayth should not be gevin to miracules. xxviii. that we should not pray to the glorious virgyn marie, butt to god only. xxix. that we ar na mair bound to pray in the kirk then in other plaices. xxx. that we ar nott bound to beleve all that the doctouris of the kyrk have writtin. xxxi. that such as wirschep the sacrament of the kyrk (we suppoise thei ment the sacrament of the altar) committis idolatrie. xxxii. that the pape is the head of the kyrk of antichrist. xxxiii. that the pape and his ministeris ar murtheraris. xxxiv. that thei which ar called principallis in the church, ar thevis and robbaris. * * * * * by these articles,[ ] which god of his mercyfull providence caused the ennemies of his trewth to keip in thare registeris, may appeir how mercyfullie god hath looked upoun this realme, reteanyng within it some sponk of his light, evin in the tyme of grettast darkness. nether yit awght any man to wonder, albeit that some thingis be obscurly, and some thingis scabruslie spokin;[ ] but rather awght all faythfull to magnifye goddis mercy, who without publict doctrin gave so great light. and farther, we awght to considder, that seing that the ennemies of jesus christ gathered the foirsaid articles, thairupoun to accuse the personis foirsaid, that thei wold deprave the meanyng of goddis servandis so far as thei could; as we dowbt not bot thei have done, in the headis of excommunicatioun, swearing, and of matrimonye. in the which it is no dowbt but the servandis of god did dampne the abuse only, and not the rycht ordinance of god; for who knowes not, that excommunicatioun in these dayis was altogether abused! that swearing abounded without punishment, or remorse of conscience! and that divorsementis war maid for such causes as worldly men had invented!--but to our history. * * * * * albeit that the accusatioun of the bischop and his complices was verray grevouse, yitt god so assisted his servandis, partly be inclineing the kingis hart to gentilness, (for diverse of thame war his great familiaris,) and partly by geving bold and godly answeris to thair accusatouris, that the ennemies in the end war frustrat of thair purpoise. for whill the bischop, in mocking, said to adam reid of barskemyng,[ ] "reid, beleve ye that god is in heavin?" he answered, "not as i do the sacramentis sevin." whairat the bischop thinking to have triumphed, said, "sir, lo, he denyes that god is in heavin." whairat the king wondering, said, "adam reid, what say ye?" the other answered, "please your grace to heir the end betuix the churle and me." and thairwith he turned to the bischope, and said, "i nether think nor beleve, as thou thinkis, that god is in heavin; but i am most assured, that he is not only in the heavin, bot also in the earth. bott thou and thy factioun declayre by your workis, that eyther ye think thair is no god at all, or ellis that he is so shett up[ ] in the heavin, that he regardis not what is done into the earth; for yf thou fermelie beleved that god war in the heavin, thou should not mack thy self chek-meat to the king, and altogether forgett the charge that jesus christ the sone of god gave to his apostles, which was, to preach his evangell, and not to play the proud prelatts, as all the rabill of yow do this day. and now, sir, (said he to the king,) judge ye whither the bischop or i beleve best that god is in heavin." whill the bischope and his band could not weill revenge thame selfis, and whill many tantis war gevin thame in thair teith, the king, willing to putt ane end to farther reassonyng, said to the said adam reid, "will thou burne thy bill?" he answered, "sir, the bischope and ye will." with those and the lyik scoffis the bischop and his band war so dashed out of countenance, that the greattest part of the accusatioun was turned to lawchter. after that dyet, we fynd almoist no questioun for materis of religioun, the space ney of thretty yearis. for not long after, to witt in the year of god ,[ ] the said bischop blackcater departed this lief, going in his superstitious devotioun to hierusalem; unto whome succeided mr. james beatoun, sone to the lard of balfour, in fyfe, who was moir cairfull for the world then he was to preach christ, or yitt to advance any religioun, but for the fassioun only; and as he soght the warld, it fled him nott,[ ] it was weill knowin that at onis he was archbischop of sanctandrosse, abbot of dumfermeling, abirbroth, kylwynnyng, and chancellare of scotland: for after the unhappy feild of flowdoun,[ ] the which perrished king james the fourt, with the grettast parte of the nobilitie of the realme, the said beatoun, with the rest of the prelattis, had the haill regiment of the realme; and by reassone thairof, held and travailled to hold the treuth of god in thraldome and bondage, till that it pleased god of his great mercy, in the year of god , to raise up his servand, maister patrik hammyltoun, at whome our hystorie doith begyn. of whose progenye, lyif, and eruditioun, becaus men of fame and renune have in diverse workis writtin, we omitt all curiouse repetitioun, sending such as wald knaw farther of him then we write to franciss lambert,[ ] johne firth, and to that notable wark,[ ] laitlie sette furth be johne fox, englisman, of the lyvis and deathis of martyrs within this yle, in this our aige. * * * * * this servand of god, the said maister patrik, being in his youth providit to reassonable honouris and leving, (he was intitulat abbot of fern,[ ]) as one haiting the world and the vanitie thairof, left scotland, and passed to the schoollis in germany; for then the fame of the universitie of whittinberge was greatlie divulgat in all countreis, whare, by goddis providence, he became familiare with these lyghtis and notable servandis of christ jesus of that tyme, martyne luther, philipp melanthon, and the said franciss lambert,[ ] and did so grow and advance in godly knowledge, joyned with fervencie and integretie of lyiff, that he was in admiratioun with many. the zeall of goddis glorie did so eat him up, that he could of no long continuance remane thair, bot returned to his countrie, whair the brycht beames of the trew light which by goddis grace was planted in his harte, began most aboundantlie to burst furth, also weall in publict as in secreat: for he was, besydis his godlie knowledge, weill learned in philosophie: he abhorred sophistrye, and wold that the text of aristotelis should have bene better understand and more used in the schoolles then than it was; for sophistrie had corrupted all asweil in divinitie as in humanitie. in schort proces of tyme, the fame of his reasonis and doctrin trubled the clargye, and came to the earis of bischope james beatoun, of whome befoir we have maid mentioun, who being ane conjured ennemye to christ jesus, and one that long had had the whole regiment of this realme, bare impatientlie that any truble should be maid to that kingdome of darknes, whairof within this realme he was the head. and, thairfoir, he so travailled[ ] with the said maister patrik, that he gat him to sanctandrosse, whair, eftir the conference of diverse dayis, he had his freedome and libertie. the said bischop and his blooddy bucheouris, called doctouris, seamed to approve his doctryne, and to grant that many thingis craved reformatioun in the ecclesiastical regiment. and amanges the rest, thair was ane that secreatlie consented with him almest in all thingis, named frear alexander campbell, a man of good wytt and learnyng, butt yitt corrupt by the warld, as aftir we will hear. when the bischoppis and the clergye had fully understand the mynd and judgement of the said maistir patrik, and fearing that by him thair kingdome should be endomaged, thei travailled with the king, who then was young, and altogitther addict to thair commandiment, that he should pass in pilgramaige to sanct dothess in rosse,[ ] to the end that no intercessioun should be maid for the life[ ] of the innocent servant of god, who suspecting no such crueltie as in thair hartes was concluded, remaned still, (a lambe amonges the wolfis,) till that upoun a nycht hie was intercepted in his chalmer, and by the bischoppes band was caryed to the castell, whare that nycht he was keapt; and upoun the morne, produccid in judgement, he was condampned to dye by fyre for the testimonye of goddis trewth. the articles for the which he suffered war bot of pilgramage, purgatorye, prayer to sanctes, and for the dead, and such trifilles; albeit that materis of grettar importance had bein in questioun, as his treatise,[ ] which in the end we have added, may witness. now that the condempnatioun of the said mr. patrik should have greattar authoritie, thei caused the same to be subscrived by all those of any estimatioun that with tham war present, and to mack thair nomber great, thei tuck the subscriptionis of childrin, yf thei war of the nobilitie; for the erle of cassilles, which last decessed in france,[ ] then being bot twelf or threttein yearis of age, was compelled to subscrive his death, as him self did confesse. immediatlie after dennar, the fyre was prepaired befoir the ald colledge,[ ] and he led to the place of executioun. and yitt men suppoised that all was done but to geve unto him ane terrour, and to have caused him to have recanted, and have become recreant to those bloody beastis. but god, for his awin glorie, for the comforte of his servand, and for manifestatioun of thare beastly tyranny, had otherwiese decreed; for he so strenthened his faythfull witnes, that nether the luif of lyif, nor yitt the fear of that cruell death, could move him a joit to swarve from the trewth ones professed. at the plaice of executioun he gave to his servand, who had bene chalmer-child to him of a long tyme, his gown, his coit, bonet, and such lych garments, saying, "these will nott proffeit in the fyre; thei will proffeit thee: aftir this, of me thow cane receave no commoditie, except the example of my death, which, i pray thee, bear in mynd; for albeit it be bitter to the flesche, and feirfull befoir men, yet is it the entress unto eternall lyif, quhilk non shall possesse that denyis christ jesus befoir this wicked generatioun." the innocent servand of god being bound to the staik in the myddest of some coallis, some tymmer, and other mater appointed for the fyre, a trane of powder was maid and sett a fyre, quhilk gave to the blessed martyre of god a glaise, skrimpled[ ] his left hand, and that syd of his face, but nether kendilled the wood, nor yett the coallis.[ ] and so remaned the appointed to death in torment, till that men rane to the castell agane for moir poulder, and for wood more able to tack fyre; which at last being kendilled, with lowd voce he cryed, "lord jesus, receave my spreit! how long shall darknes owerquhelme this realme? and how long will thow suffer this tyranny of men?"--the fyre was slow, and thairfoir was his torment the more. bott moist of all was he greved by certane wicked men, amongis whome campbell the blak freir (of whome we spak befoir[ ]) was principall, who continuallie cryed, "convert, heretick: call upoun our lady: say _salve regina_," etc. to whome he answered, "departe, and truble me not, ye messingeris of sathan." bott whill that the foirsaid freir still roared one thing in great vehemency, he said unto him, "wicked man, thou knawis the contrair, and the contrair to me thou hast confessed: i appeall thee befoir the tribunall seatt of jesus christ!" after which and other wordis, which weall could nott be understand nor marked, bayth for the tumult, and vehemencye of the fyre, the witness of jesus christ gat victorie, after long sufferance, the last of februar, in the zeir of god j^m. v^e. twenty and sevin zearis.[ ] the said freir departed this lyif within few dayis after, in what estait we referr to the manifestatioun of the generall day. but it was plainlie knawin that he dyed, in glaskow, in a phrenesye, and as one dispared.[ ] now that all men may understand what was the singular eruditioun and godly knowledge of the said mr. patrik, we have inserted this his litill pithie werk, conteanyng his assertionis and determinationis concernyng the law, the office of the same, concernyng fayth, and the fruittis[ ] thairof; first, be the foirsaid maister patrik collected in latine, and after translated in inglisch. [a brief treatise of mr. patrike hamelton, called patrike's places, translated into english by john frith; with the epistle of the sayd frith prefixed before the same, as followeth.[ ] john frith unto the christian reader. blessed be god the father of our lord jesus christ, which in these last dayes and perillous tymes, hath styrred up in all countreys, witnesses unto his sonne, to testifye the truth unto the unfaythfull, to save at the least some from the snares of antichrist, which leade to perdition, as ye may here perceave by that excellent and well learned young man patrike hamelton, borne in scotland of a noble progeny; who to testifie the truth, sought all meanes, and tooke upon him priesthode, (even as paule circumcised timothy, to wynne the weake jewes,) that he might be admitted to preache the pure word of god. notwithstandyng, as soone as the chamberleyne [chancellor[ ]] and other byshops of scotland had perceaved that the light began to shyne, which disclosed their falsehode that they conveyed in darkenes, they layde handes on hym, and because he wold not deny his saviour christ at their instance, they burnt him to ashes. nevertheles, god of his bounteous mercy (to publishe to the whole world what a man these monsters have murthered) hath reserved a little treatise, made by this patrike,[ ] which, if ye lyst, ye may call patrik's places: for it treateth exactly of certaine common places, which knowen, ye have the pith of all divinitie. this treatise have i turned into the english toung, to the profite of my natioun; to whom i besech god to geve lyght, that they may espye the deceitfull pathes of perdition, and returne to the right way which leadeth to lyfe everlastyng.[ ] amen.] [the doctrine] of the law. the law is a doctrine that biddeth good, and forbiddeth evill, as the commandimentis heir contenit do specifie: the ten commandimentis. . thow shalt worschepp but one god. . thow shalt maik thee nane image to worschipp it. . thow shalt not sweare be his name in vane. . hold the sabbath day holy. . honour thie father and mother. . thow shalt not kill. . thow shalt not committ adulterie. . thow shalt nott steall. . thow shalt bear no fals witness. . thow shalt not desyre owght that belongeth unto thie nychtboure. [all these commandments are briefly comprised in these two here under ensuing]:--"love the lord thy god with all thyne harte, wyth all thy saule, and with all thy mynd." (deut. .)--"this is the first and great commandiment. the secund is lyik unto this, love thy nychtbour as thy selve. on these two commandimentis hang all the law and the propheittis." (matth. .) [certaine generall propositions proved by the scripture.][ ] i. he that loveth god, loveth his nychtbour.[ ]--"if anie man say, i love god, and yit hattith his nychtbour, he is a lyer: he that lovith not his brother whome he hath sene, how can he love god whome he hath nott sein." ( joan. .) ii. he that lovith his nychtbour as him self, keapeth the whole commandimentis of god.--"quhatsoever ye wald that men should do unto yow, evin so do unto thame: for this is the law and the propheittis." (matth. .)--he that loveth his nychtbour fulfilleth the law. "thow shalt not committ adulterie: thow shalt not kyll: thow shalt not steall: thow shalt not bear fals witnesse against thy nychtbour: thow shalt not desyre; and so furth: and yf thair be any uther commandiment, all ar comprehendit under this saying, love thy nychtbour as thy self." (rom. ; gallat. .) "he that loveth his nychtbour, kepith all the commandimentis of god." "he that loveth god, loveth his nychtboure." (roma. ; joan. .)--ergo, he that loveth god, kepith all his commandimentis. iii. he that hath the faith, loveth god.--"my father loveth yow, becaus ye luif me, and beleve that i came of god." (joan. .)--he that hath the faith, keapith all the commandimentis of god. he that hath the faith, loveth god; and he that loveth god, keapith all the commandimentis of god.--ergo, he that hath faith, keapith all the commandimentis of god. iv. he that keapeth one commandiment, keapeth thame all.--"for without fayth it is impossible to keap any of the commandimentis of god."--and he that hath the fayth, keapeth all the commandimentis of god.--ergo, he that keapith one commandiment of god, keapith thame all. v. he that keapith nott all the commandimentis of god, he keapith nane of thame.--he that keapith one of the commandimentis, he keapith all.--ergo, he that keapith not all the commandimentis, he keapith nane of thame. vi. it is not in our power, without grace, to keap anie of goddis commandimentis.--without grace it is impossible to keap ane of goddis commandimentis; and grace is not in our power.--ergo, it is not in our power to keap any of the commandimentis of god. evin so may ye reassone concerning the holy ghost, and fayth. vii. the law was gevin to schaw us our synne.--"be the law cumith the knowledge of the synne. i knew not what synne meant, bot throw the law. i knew not what lust had ment, except the law had said, thow shalt not lust. without the law, synne was dead:" that is, it moved me nott, nether wist i that it was synne, which notwithstanding was synne, and forbidden be the law. viii. the law biddith us do that which is impossible for us.--for it biddith us keape all the commandimentis of god: yitt it is not in oure power to keape any of thame.--ergo, it biddeth us doo that which is impossible for us. thow wilt say, "whairfoir doith god command us that which is impossible for us." i ansuere, "to mack thee know that thow arte bot evill, and that thair is no remeady to save thee in thine awin hand, and that thow mayest seak reamedy at some uther; for the law doith nothing butt command thee." [the doctrine] of the gospell. the gospell, is as moche to say, in oure tong, as good tydingis: lyk as everie one of these sentences be-- christ is the saviour of the world. christ is our saviour. christ deid for us. christ deid for our synnes. christ offerred him selve for us. christ bare our synnes upoun his back. christ bought us with his blood. christ woushe us with his blood. christ came in the warld to save synnaris. christ came in the warld to tak away our synnes. christ was the price that was gevin for us and for our synnes. christ was maid dettour for our synnes. christ hath payed our debt, for he deid for us. christ hath maid satisfactioun for us and for our synne. christ is our rychteousness. christ is oure wisdome. christ is our sanctifcatioun. christ is our redemptioun. christ is our satisfactioun. christ is our goodness. christ hath pacifeid the father of heavin. christ is ouris, and all his. christ hath delivered us frome the law, frome the devill, and hell. the father of heavin hath forgevin us for christis saik. or anie such other, as declair unto us the mercyes of god. the nature [and office] of the law, and of the gospell. the law schawith us, our synne. our condemnatioun, is the word of ire. is the word of dispair. is the word of displeasure. the gospell schawith us, a reamedy for it. oure redemptioun, is the word of grace. is the word of conforte. is the word of peace. a disputatioun betuix the law and the gospell. the law sayith, paye thy debt, thow art a synnar desparat. and thow shalt die. the gospell sayith, christ hath payed it. thy synnes ar forgevin thee. be of good conforte, thow shalt be saved. the law sayith, mack a mendis for thy synne. the father of heaven is wraith wyth thee. quhair is thy rychteousnes, goodnes, and satisfactioun? thou art bound and obligat unto me, [to] the devill, and [to] hell. the gospell sayith, christ hath maid it for thee. christ hath pacefeid him with his blood. christ is thy rychteousnes, thy goodnes, and satisfactioun christ hath delivered thee from thame all. [the doctrine] off faith. faith is to beleve god; "lyck as abraham beleved god, and it was compted unto him for rychteousnes." (gen. .)--"he that beleved god, beleved his word." (joan. .)--to beleve in him, is to beleve his word, and accompt it trew that he speikith. he that belevith not goddis word, beleveth not him self. he that belevith nott goddis word, he compteth him fals, and ane lyar, and beleveth not that he may and will fulfill his word; and so he denyeth both the myght of god and him self. ix. faith is the gift of god.--"everie good thing is the gift of god." (jacob. .)--fayth is good.--ergo, faith is the gift of god. x. [faith is not in our power.]--the gift of god is not in oure power.--"faith is the gift of god."--ergo, fayth is not in oure power. xi. [he that lacketh faith cannot please god.]--"without faith it is impossible to please god." (hebr. .)--all that cummith nott of fayth, is synne; for without faith can no man please god.--besydis, that he that lacketh faith, he trusteth nott god. he that trusteth not god, trusteth nott in his wourd. he that trusteth not in his wourd, hauldeth him self fals, and a liear. he that haldeth him self false and a lyer, he belevith not that he may doo that he promeseth, and so denyeth he that he is god. and how can a man, being of this fassioun, please him? no maner of way. yea, suppoise he did all the werkis of man and angell. xii. all that is done in fayth, pleaseth god.--"richt is the wourde of god, and all his werkis in faith." "lord, thine eis look to faith." that is asmuch to saye as, lord, thow delitest in fayth. god loveth him that belevith in him. how cane thei then displease him? xiii. he that hath the faith, is just and good.--and a good trie bringeth furth good fruite.--ergo, all that is in faith done pleaseth god. xiv. [he that hath faith, and believeth god, cannot displease him.]--moreovir, he that hath the faith belevith god.--he that belevith god, belevith his worde. he that belevith his word, woteth weall that he is trew and faithfull, and may nott lie: but knowith weall that he may and will boith fulfill his word. how can he then displease him? for thow canst not do ane greattar honor unto god, then to count him trew. thow wilt then say, that thift, murther, adulterie, and all vices, please god? nane, verrelie; for thei can not be done in faith: "for a good tree beareth good frute." he that hath the faith, woteth weall that he pleaseth god; for all that is done in fayth pleaseth god. (hebr. .) xv. faith is a suirness.--"faith is a suir confidence of thingis quhilk ar hoped for, and a certantie of thinges which ar not sene." (hebr. .)--"the same spreit certifieth our spreit that we are the children of god." (rom. .)--moirovir, he that hath the faith, woteth weill that god will fulfill his word.--ergo, fayth is a suirness. a man is justifeid be faith. "abraham beleveth god, and it was impueted unto him for ryghteousnes." "we suppose thirfoir that a man is justified (saith the apostill) without the workis of law." (rom. .)--"he that workith not, but belevith in him that justifieth the ungodlie, his faith is compted unto him for ryghteousnes." "the just man levith by faith." (abac. ; rom. .)--"we wote, that a man that is justifeid, is not justifeid be the workis of the law, but be the faith of jesus christ, and not by the deadis of the law." of the faith of christ the faith of christ is, to beleve in him; that is, to beleve his wourd, and to beleve that he will helpe thee in all thy neid, and deliver thee frome evill. thow wilt ask me, what word? i answer, the gospell. "he that beleveth on christ shalbe saved." "he that belevith the sone hath eternall lyif." "verrelie, verrelie, i say unto yow, he that belevith on me hath everlasting lyif." (joan. .)--"this i wret unto yow, that beleving in the name of the sone of god, ye may know that ye have eternall lyif." ( joan. .)--"thomas, becaus thow hast sein me thow belevest; but happie ar thei that have nott sein, and yit beleve in me." "all the propheittis to him bare witness, that whosoevir belevith in him shall have remissioun of thair synnes." (act. .)--"what must i do that i may be saved?" the apostill answerid, "beleve in the lord jesus christ, and thow shalt be saved." "yf thow acknowledge wyth the mouth, that jesus is the lord, and beleve in thyn harte that god raissed him up from the death, thow shalt be save." (rom. .)--"he that beleveth not in christ shalbe condemned." "he that beleveth nott the sone shall never see lyif; but the ire of god abydith upoun him." (joan. .)--"the holy ghost shall reprove the world of synne, becaus thei beleve not in me." "thei that beleve in jesus christ ar the sones of god." ye ar all the sones of god, because ye beleve in jesus christ. he that belevith in christ the sone of god is save. (galat. .)--"petir said, thow art christ, the sone of the leving god. jesus ansuered and said unto him, happie arte thow, symon, the sone of jonas; for flesch and blood hath nott oppened unto thee that, bot my father which is in heavin." (matth. .)--"we have beloved and knowin that thow arte christ the sone of the leving god." "i beleve that thow arte christ the sone of the leving god, which should come into the warld." "these thingis ar written that ye mycht beleve that jesus christ is the sone of god, and that in beleving ye mycht have lyef. i beleve that jesus is the sone of the leving god." (joan. .) xvi. he that belevith god, belevith the gospell.--he that belevith god, belevith his word:--and the gospell is his word. thairfoir he that belevith god, belevith his gospell. as christ is the saviour of the world, christ is our saviour. christ bought us with his bloode. christ woushe us with his blood. christ offerred him self for us. christ baire oure synnes upoun his back. xvii. he that belevith nott the gospell, belevith not god.--he that belevith not goddis word belevith nott him self:--and the gospell is goddis word.--ergo, he that belevith nott the gospell belevith nott god him self; and consequentlie thei that beleve nott as is above written, and such other, beleve not god. xviii. he that belevith the gospell, shalbe saved.--"go ye into all the world and preach the gospell unto everie creature: he that belevith and is baptised shalbe saved; bot he that belevith not shalbe condemned." a comparison betuix faith and indredulitie. faith is the root of all good:-- makith god and man freindis. bringith god and man to gither. incredulitie is the root of all evill:-- makith thame deidlie foes. bringith thame syndrie. all that proceidis frome faith pleaseth god. all that proceidith from incredulitie displeaseth god. faith only maketh a man good and rychteouse. incredulitie maketh him injust and evill. faith only maketh a man, the member of christ; the inheritour of heavin; the servand of god. faith schewith god to be a sweit father. fayth hauldith styff be the word of god: countith god to be trew. faith knowith god: lovith god and his nychtboure. faith only savith: extolleth god and his werkis. incredulitie maketh him, the member of the devill; the inheritour of hell; the servand of the devill. incredulitie maketh god a terrible judge: it causeth man wandir heir and thair: maketh him fals and a liear. incredulitie knoweth him nott. incredulitie lovith nether god nor nychtbour: onlie condemneth: extolleth flesche and hir awin deidis. off hope. hope is a trustie looking for of thingis that ar promesed to come unto us: as we hope the everlasting joy which christ hath promesed unto all that beleve on him. we should putt our hoipe and trust in god onlie, and no other thing. "it is good to trust in god, and nott in man." "he that trustith in his awin harte, he is a fuill." "it is good to trust in god, and not in princes." (psal. .)--"thei shal be lyik unto images that mack thame, and all that trust in thame." he that trusteth in his awin thoughts doeth ungodlie. "curssed be he that trustith in man." "bidd the rich men of this warld, that thei trust nott in thair unstable riches, but that thei trust in the leving god." "it is hard for them that trust in money to enter in the kingdome of god." moirovir, we should trust in him onelie, that may help us [god onlie can help us.]--ergo, we should trust in him onelie. weill is thame that trust in god: and wo to thame that trust him nott. "weill is the man that trustis in god; for god shalbe his trust." he that trusteth in him shall understand the trewth. "thei shall all rejoyse that trust in thee: thei shall all evir be glaid; and thow wilt defend thame." off charitie. charitie is the love of thy nychtboure. the rewll of charitie is to doo as thow woldest wer done unto thee: for charitie esteameth all alyke;[ ] the riche and the poore; the friend and the foe; the thankfull and the unthankfull; the kynnesman and stranger. a comparison betuix faith, hope, and charitie. faith commeth of the wourd of god: hope commeth of faith; and charitie springis of thame boith. faith belevis the word: hope trustith eftir that which is promessed be the wourd: and charitie doith good unto hir nychtbour, throw the love that sche hath to god, and glaidnes that is within hir selve. faith looketh to god and his worde: hope lookith unto his gift and reward: charitie lookith unto hir nychtbouris proffeit. faith receavith god: hoipe receaveth his reward: charitie lookith to hir nychtbour wyth a glaid hart, and that without any respect of reward. faith perteaneth to god onelie: hope to his reward, and charitie to hir nychtbour. [the doctrine] of good workis. no maner of werkis mack us rychteouse.--"we beleve that a man shalbe justifeid without werkis." (galat. .)--"no man is justifeid be the deidis of the law; but be the faith of jesus christ. and we beleve in jesus christ, that we may be justifeid be the faith of christ, and nott be the deidis of the law. yf rychteousnes came be the law, then christ deid in vane." that no man is justifeid be the law, it is manifest: for a rychteouse man levith by his faith; but the law is nott of faith. moirovir, since christ, the makar of heavin and earth, and all that thair in is, behoved to die for us; we ar compelled to grant, that we wer so far drowned in synne, that nether our deidis, nor all the treasouris that ever god maid, or might maik, might have help us out of thame: ergo, no deidis nor werkis maie mack us rychteouse. no werkis mak us unrychteouse.--for yf any werke maid us unrychteouse, then the contrarie werkis wold maik us rychteouse. butt it is provin, that no werkis can maik us righteouse: ergo, no werkis maik us unrychteouse. werkis maik us nether good nor evill. it is proven, that werkis nether maik us rychteouse nor unrychteouse: ergo, no werkis nether maik us good nor evill. for rychteouse and good ar one thing, and unrighteouse and evill, one. good werkis maik not ane good man, nor evill werkis ane evill man: but a good man makith good werkis, and ane evill man evill werkis. good fruct makith not the tree good, nor evill fruict the tree evill: but a good tree bearith good fruict, and ane evill tree evill fruict. a good man can not do evill werkis, nor ane evill man good werkis; for ane evill tree can not beare good fruct, nor ane good tree evill fruct. a man is good befoir he do good werkis, and ane evill man is evill before he do evill werkis; for the tree is good befoir it bear good fruict, and evill befoir it beir evill fruct. everie man is either good or evill. either maik the tree good, and the fruct good also, or ellis maik the tree evill, and the fruct lyikwyise evill. everie manes werkis ar eyther good or evill: for all fructis ar either good or evill. "either maik the tree good and the fruct also, or ellis maik the tree evill and the fruct of it lyikwyise evill." (matth. .)--a good man is knowin be his werkis; for a good man doith good werkis, and ane evill, evill werkis. "ye shall knaw thame be thair fruct; for ane good tree bringeth furth good fruct, and ane evill tree evill fruict." (matth. .)--a man is likened to the tree, and his werkis to the fruct of the trie. "bewar of the fals propheittis, which come unto yow in scheippis clothing; but inwardlie thei ar raveening wolves. ye shall knaw thame be thair fructis." none of oure werkis nether save us, nor condempne us. it is provin, that no werkis maik us either righteouse or unryghteouse, good nor evill: but first we are good befoir that we do good werkis, and evill befoir we do evill warkis: ergo, no werk neither save us nor condempne us. thow wilt say then, makith it no mater what we do? i answer thee, yes; for yf thow dost evill, it is a suir argument that thow art evill, and wantest faith. yf thow do good, it is ane argument that thow art good and hast faith; for a good tree bearith good fruct, and an evill tree evill fruct. yit good fruct maketh nott the tree good, nor evill fruct the tree evill. so that man is good befoir he do good werkis, and evill befoir he do evill werkis. the man is the tree: the werkis ar the fruct. faith maekith the good tree: incredulitie the evill tree. such a tree, such a fruct: such man, such warkis. for all that is done in faith pleasith god, and ar gud werkis; and all that is done without faith displeaseth god, and ar evill workis. quhosoevir thinketh to be saved by his werkis, denyeth christ is oure saviour, that christ deid for him, and, fynallie, all thing that belongeth to christ. for how is he thy saviour, yf thow mychtest save thy self by thy werkis? or to what end should he have deid for thee, yf any werkis of thine might have saved thee? what is this to say, christ deid for thee? it is nott that thow shouldest have deid perpetuallie, and that christ, to deliver thee frome death, deid for thee, and changed thy perpetuall death in his awin death. for thow madest the falt, and he suffered the pane, and that for the luif he had to thee, befoir ever thow wast borne, when thow haddest done neither good nor evill. now, since he hath payed thy debt, thow deist nott: no, thow canst nott, bot shouldest have bene damned, yf his death war not.[ ] bot since he was punished for thee, thow shalt not be punished. fynallie, he hath delivered thee from thye condemnatioun, and desyrith nought of thee, but that thow shouldest acknowledge what he hath done for thee, and bear it in mynd; and that thow woldest helpe other for his saik, boith in worde and deid, evin as he hath helped thee for nought, and without reward. o how ready would we be to help otheris, yf we knew his goodnes and gentilnes towardis us! he is a good and a gentill lord, and he doith all thingis for nought. let us, i beseich yow, follow his footsteps, whome all the world ought to prayse and wirschep. amen. he that thinkith to be savid be his werkis, calleth him selve christ:-- for he callith him self a saviour, which aparteaneth to christ onlie. what is a saviour, butt he that savith? and thow sayist, i save my self; which is asmuch to say as, i am christ; for christ is onlie the saviour of the world. we should do no good werkis, for that intent to get the inheritance of heavin, or remissioun of synnes throw thame. for whosoevir belevith to gett the inheritance of heavin or remissioun of synnes, throw werkis, he belevith nott to gett that for christis saik. and thei that beleve not, that thair synnes ar forgeivin thame, and that thei sal be saved for christis saik, thei beleve not the gospell; for the gospell sayith, yow sal be saved for christis saik: synnes ar forgevin yow, for christis saik. he that belevith not the gospell, belevith not god. and consequentlie, thei which beleve to be saved be thair werkis, or to gett remissioun of synnes be thair awin deidis, beleve not god, bot raccompt him a liear, and so utterlie denye him to be god. thow wilt say, shall we then do no good werkis? i say not so, but i say, we should do no good werkis for that intent to gett the kingdome of heavin, or remissioun of synnes. for yf we beleve to gett the inheritance of heavin throw good werkis, then we beleve nott to gett it throw the promesse of god. or, yf we think to gett remissioun of our synnes, as said is, we beleve nott that thei ar forgevin us by christ, and so we compt god a liear. for god sayith, thow shalt have the inheritance of heavin for my sonnes saik. yow say, it is nott so; but i will wynne it throw my awin werkis. so, i condempne not good werkis; but i condempne the fals trust in any werkis; for all the werkis that a man putteth confidence in, are thairwyth intoxicat or empoisoned, and become evill. quhairfoir, do good werkis; but be war thow do thame to gett any good throw thame; for yf thow do, thow receavest the good, not as the gift of god, bott as debte unto thee, and maikest thy self fellow with god, becaus thow wilt tack no thing from him for nought. what nedith he any thing of thyne, who gevith all thing, and is not the poorare? thairfoir do nothing to him, but tack of him; for he is ane gentill lord, and with, a glaidar harte will geve us all thingis that we neid, than we taik it of him. so that yf we want any thing, lett us witt our selfis. prease not then to the inheritance of heavin, throwght presumptioun of thy good werkis; for yf thow do, thow comptest thy selve holy and equall unto him, becaus thow wilt tack nothing of him for nowght; and so salt thow fall as lucifer fell from heavin for his pride. thus endis the said maistir patrikis articles.[ ] and so we returne to oure hystory. [sn: the forme and caussis of the preastis old curssing.] when those cruell wolves had, as thei supposed, cleane devored the pray, thei fynd thame selfis in warse caise then thei war befoir; for then within sanctandrose, yea, almost within the hole realme, (who heard of that fact,) thair was none found who begane not to inquyre, whairfoir was maistir patrik hammyltoun brunt? and when his articles war rehersed, questioun was holden, yf such articles war necessarie to be beleved under the pane of damnatioun. and so within schort space many begane to call in dowbt that which befoir thei held for a certane veritie, in so much that the universitie of sanctandrose, and sanct leonardis colledge principallie, by the labouris of maistir gawin logy,[ ] and the novises[ ] of the abbay, by the suppriour,[ ] begane to smell somwhat of the veritie, and to espy the vanitie of the receaved superstitioun. yea, within few yearis eftir, begane baith black and gray frearis publictlie to preache against the pride and idile lief of bischoppis, and against the abuses of the whole ecclesiasticall estaite. amongis whome was one called frear williame arth,[ ] who, in a sermone preached in dundye, spak somwhat moir liberallie against the licentious lyifes of the bischoppis nor thei could weall beair. he spaik farther against the abuse of curssing and of miracles. the bischop of brechin,[ ] having his placeboes and jackmen in the toun, buffatted the freir, and called him heretick. the freir, impatient of the injury receaved, past to sanctandrose, and did communicat the headis of his sermone with maister johnne mair,[ ] whose wourd then was holden as ane oracle, in materis of religioun; and being assured of him, that such doctrin mycht weall be defendid, and that he wald defend it, for it conteaned no heresye; thair was ane day appointed to the said frear, to maik repetitioun of the sam sermon; and advertisment was gevin to all such as war offended att the formar to be present. and so, in the parishe kirk of sanctandrose, upoun the day appointed, appeared the said frear, and had amonges his auditouris maistir johnne mair, maistir george lockart,[ ] the abbot of cambuskynneth,[ ] maistir patrik hepburne the priour of sanctandrose,[ ] with all the doctouris and maistires of the universities. the theame of his sermone was, "veritie is the strongest of all thingis." his discourse of curssing was, "that yf it war rychtlie used, it was the moist fearfull thing upoun the face of the earth; for it was the verray separatioun of man frome god: but that it should nott be used rashlie, and for everie light cause, but onlie against open and incorrigible synnaris. but now, (said he,) the avarice of preastis, and the ignorance of thair office, has caused it altogitther to be vilipended;[ ] for the preast, (said he,) whose dewitie and office is to pray for the people, standis up on sounday, and cryes, 'ane hes tynt a spurtill. thair is ane flaill stollin from thame beyound the burne. the goodwyiff of the other syd of the gait hes tynt a horne spune. goddis maleson and myne i geve to thame that knowis of this geyre, and restoris it not.'"--how the people mocked thair curssing, he ferther told a meary tale; how, after a sermoun that he had maid at dumfermling, he came to a house whair gossoppis was drynking thair soundayis penny, and he, being dry, asked drynk. "yis, father, (said ane of the gossoppes,) ye shall haif drynk; bot ye mon first resolve ane doubt which is rissen amongis us, to witt, what servand will serve a man beast on least expenssis." "the good angell, (said i,) who is manis keapar, who maikis great service without expenssis." "tush, (said the gossope,) we meane no so heigh materis: we meane, what honest man will do greatest service for least expensses?" and whill i was musing, (said the frear,) what that should meane, he said, "i see, father, that the greatest clerkis ar nott the wysest men. know ye not how the bischoppis and thair officiallis servis us husband men? will thei not give to us a lettir of curssing for a plack, to laste for a year, to curse all that looke ower our dick [dyke]? and that keapis our corne better nor the sleaping boy, that will have three schillingis of fye, a sark, and payre of schone in the year. and thairfoir, yf thair curssing dow any thing, we held the bischoppis beast chaip servandis, in that behalf, that ar within the realme." as concernyng miracles, he declaired, what diligence the ancientis took to try trew miracles frome false. "but now, (said he,) the greadynes of preastis not onlie receave false miracles, bot also thei cherise and feis knaiffis for that purpoise, that thair chapellis may be the better renouned, and thair offerand may be augmented. and thairupoun ar many chapelles founded, as that our lady war mychttiar, and that sche took more pleasour in one plaice then in ane uther; as of laite dayis our lady of karsgreng hes hopped fra ane grene hillock to ane uther. but honest men of sanctandrose, (said he,) yf ye luif your wyffis and your doughtaris, hald thame at hame, or ellis send thame in honest companye; for yf ye knew what miracles war kithed thaire, ye wold neyther thank god nor our lady." and thus he mearelie tanted thare trystis of hurdome and adulterye used at such devotioun. ane uther article was judged more hard; for he alledged the commoun law,[ ] that the civyle magistrate mycht correct the churchmen,[ ] and deprive thame of thaire benefices, for oppin vices. ane uther day, the same frear maid ane uther sermoun of the abbote [of] unreassone,[ ] unto whome and whose lawis he compared the prelattis of that age; for thei war subdewid to no lawis, no moir then was the abbote [of] unreassoun. and amonges uther thingis he told such a meary bourd. "thare was (said he) a prelatt, or at least a prelattis peir, a trew servand to the king of luif, who, upoun a nycht after suppar, asked at his gentillmen, be the fayth that thei awght to the king of luif, that thei should trewlie declare how many syndrie wemen everie ane of thame had haid, and how many of thame war menis wyffis. ane answered, he had lyne with fyve, and two of thame war maryed. the other answered, i have haid sevin, and three of thame ar maryed. it came at last to my lord him self, who macking it veray nyce for a lytill space, gave in the end ane plain confessioun, and said, 'i am the yongest man, and yitt have i haid the round desone; and sevin of thame ar menis wyffis.' now, (said the frear,) this god and king of luif, to whome our prelaittis maikis homage, is the maistir devill of hell, from whome such werkis and fruitis doo procead." this prelatt was knowin by his proper tockenes to have bene priour patrik hepburne,[ ] now bischop of murray, who to this day hes continewed in the professioun that he anes maid to his god and king of luif.[ ] it was supposed, notwithstanding this kynd of preaching, that this frear remaned papist in his heart; for the rest of the frearis, fearing to losse the benedictioun of the bischoppes, to witt, thair malt and thair maill, and thair other appoineted pensioun, cawsed the said frear to flye to england, whair, for defence of the paipe and paipistrie, his was cast in preasone[ ] at king hary his commandiment. but so it pleasith god to open up the mouth of baalames awin asse, to cry out againest the vitious lyves of the clergie of that aige. schorte after this, new consultatioun was tackin, that some should be brunt; for men began verray liberallie to speak. a meary gentillman, named johnne lyndesay, famylliar to bisehope james betoun, standing by when consultatioun was had, said, "my lord, yf ye burne any mo, except ye follow my counsall, ye will utterlye destroy your selves. yf ye will burne thame, lett thame be brunt in how sellarris; for the reik of maister patrik hammyltoun hes infected as many as it blew upoun."[ ] thus it pleased god, that thei should be tanted in thair awin face. but hear followis the moist meary of all. sandie furrour, who had bene empreasoned sevin yearis in the toure of londone, sir johnne dignwaill,[ ] according to the cheritie of churche men,[ ] enterteneid his wyiff, and waisted the poore manes substance. for the which caus, at his returnyng, he spaik more liberallie of preastis then thei could bear, and so was he declaired[ ] to be accused of heresye, and called to his ansuer to sanctandrose. he lapp up mearely upoun the scaffold, and, casting a gawmound, said, "whair ar the rest of the playaris?" maistir audro olephant,[ ] offended thairwyth, said, "it shalbe no play to yow, sir, befoir that ye depart." and so began to read his accusatioun. the first article whareof was, that he dispyssed the messe. his ansuer was, "i hear mo messis in awght dayis, then thre bischoppis thair sitting sayis in a year." accused secoundarly, of contemptioun of the sacramentis. "the preastis, (said he,) war the maist commoun contempnaris of sacramentis, and especiallie of matrimonye," and that he witnessed by any of the preastis thare present, and named the menis wyffis with whome thei had medled, and especiallie sir johnne dignwaill, who had sevin yearis togitther abused his awin wyff and consumed his substance; and said, "becaus i complayne of such injuries, i am hear summoned, and accused, as one that is worthy to be brunt. for goddis saik, (said he,) wil ye taick wyeffis of your awin, that i and utheris, whose wyiffis ye have abused, may be revenged upoun yow." then bisehope gawin dumbar,[ ] named the old bischop of abirdein, thinking to justifye him self befoir the people, said, "carll, thow shalt not know my wyff." the said alexander ansuered, "my lord, ye ar too old; bot, with the grace of god, i shall drynk with your dochtter or i departe." and thareat was smylling of the best, and lowd laughtter of some; for the bisehop had a dowghter maryed with andro balfour[ ] in that same toune. then the bischoppis bad, "away with the earll." but he ansured, "nay; i will not departe this houre; for i have more to speak against the vices of preastis, then i cane expresse this haill[ ] day." and so, after diverse purposes, thei commanded him to burne his bill. and he demanding the caus, thei said, "becaus ye have spoken these articles whairof ye ar accused." his ansuer was, "the mekill devill bear thame away, that first and last said thame." and so he tack the bill, and chowing it, hee after spatt it in mr. andro oliphantis face, saying, "now burne it or drune it, whitther ye will: ye heir na mair of me. butt i man have somewhat of everie ane of yow to begyn my pack agane, which a preast and my wyif, a preastis hoore, hes spentt." and so everie prelate and riche preast, glaid to be qwyte of his evill, gave him somwhat; and so departed hie, for he understood nothing of religioun. but so fearfull it was then to speak any thing against preastis, that the least word spokin against thame, yea, albeit it was spokin in a manes sleip, was judged heresye; and that was practised upoun richart carmichaell, yet leving in fyfe,[ ] who being young, and ane singar in the chapell royal of striveling, happened in his sleepe to say, "the devill tak away the preastis, for thei ar a gready pack." hie, thairfor, accused be sir george clappertoun, deane[ ] of the said chapell, was compelled tharefore to burne his bill. but god schort after raised up against thame strongar campionis. for alexander setoun,[ ] a blak frear, of good learning and estimatioun, began to tax the corrupt doctrin of the papistrye. for the space of a hole lentran,[ ] he tawght the commandimentis of god onlye, ever beatting in the earis of his auditouris, that the law of god had of many yearis not bein trewlie tawght; for menis traditionis had obscured the puritie of it. these war his accustomed propositionis: first, christ jesus is the end and perfectioun of the law. . thair is no syne quhair goddis law is not violated. . to satisfie for syne lyes not in manis power, but the remissioun thairof cumis by unfeaned reapentance, and by faith apprehending god the father mercifull in christ jesus, his sone. whill often tymes he puttis his auditouris in mynd of thir and the lyik headis, and maikis no mentioun of purgatorye, pardones, pilgramage, prayer to sanctes, nor such trifillis, the dum doctouris, and the rest of that forsworne rable, begane to suspect him; and yitt said thei nothing publictlie, till lentrain[ ] was ended, and he passed to dundie. and then, in his absence, ane hired for that purpose openlie damned the hole doctrin[ ] that befoir he had tawght. which cuming to the earis of the said frear alexander, then being in dundye, without delay he returned to sanctandrose, caused immediatlie to jow the bell, and to give significatioun that he wald preach; as that he did in deid. in the which sermon he affirmed, (and that more plainlie then at any uther tyme,) whatsoever in all his hole sermones hie had tawght befoir the haill lentrantyde preceding;[ ] adding, that within scotland thair was no trew bischoppe, yf that bischoppes should be knawin by such notes and vertewis, as sanct paule requyres in bischoppis. this delatioun flew with wyngis to the bischoppis earis, who, butt farther delay, send for the said frear alexander, who began greveouslie to complayne, and sharplye to accuse, that he had so sclanderouslie spokin of the dignitie of the bischoppes, as to say, "that it behoved a bischope to be a preachear, or ellis he was but a dume dogg, and fed not the flock, but fed his awin bellye." the man being witty, and mynded of that which was his most assured defence, said, "my lord, the reaportaris of such thingis ar manifest lyearis." whareat the bischope[ ] rejosed, and said, "your ansour pleasses me weall: i never could think of yow, that ye wold be so foolische as to affirme such thingis. whare ar thei knaiffis that have brought me this tale?" who compearing, and affirmyng the same that thei did befoir, hie still replyed, that thei ware leyaris. but whill the witnesses war multiplyed, and men war browght to attentioun, he turned him to the bischope, and said, "my lord, ye may see[ ] and considder what caris these asses have, who cane nott discerne betuix paull, isai, zacharie, and malachie and frear alexander setoun. in verray deid, my lord, i said that paule sayis, 'it behoveth a bischop to be ane teichear.' isai sayith, 'that thei that feid nott the flock ar dum doggis.' and zacharie sayeth, 'thei ar idoll pastouris.' i of my awin head affirmed nothing, butt declared what the spreitt of god had befoir pronunced; at whome, my lord, yf ye be nott offended, justly ye cane nott be offended at me. and so yit agane, my lord, i say, that thei ar manifest leyaris that reported unto yow, that i said, that ye and utheris that preach nott ar no bischoppis, but belly goddis." albeit after that, the bischope was heightly offended, asweill at the skwff[ ] and bitter mock, as at the bold libertie of that learned man; yitt durst he nott hasard for that present to execute his malice conceaved; for nott onlye feared he the learnyng and bold spreit of the man, bot also the favour that he had, alsweall of the people, as of the prince, king james the fyft, of whome he had good credite; for he was at that tyme his confessour, and had exhorted him to the feare of god, to the meditatioun of goddis law, and unto puritie of lyiff. butt the said bischope, with his complices, foirseing what danger mycht cume to thair estaite, yf such familiaritie should continew betuix the prince and a man so learned, and so repugnyng to thair affectionis, laubored by all meanes to mack the said frear alexander odiouse unto the kingis grace, and easely fand the meanes by the gray frearis, (who by thare hypochrisye deceaved many,) to traduce the innocent as ane heretyk. this accusatioun was easely receaved and more easelye beleved[ ] of the carnall prince, who altogitther was gevin to the filthy loostis of the fleshe, abhorred all counsall that repugned thairto. and becaus he did remember what a terrour the admonitionis of the said alexander was unto his corrupted conscience, without resistance he subscrived to thair accusatioun, affirmyng that he knew mair then thei did in that mater; for he understood weall ynewcht, that he smelled of the new doctrin, by such thingis as he had schawin to him under confessioun. and tharefoir he promessed, that he should follow the counsall of the bischoppes in punishing of him and of all utheris of that sect. these thingis understand by the said alexander, alsweall by informatioun of his freindis and familliaris, as by the strange contenance of the king unto him, provydit the nixt way to avoid the fury of a blynded prince: and so, in his habite,[ ] hie departed the realme,[ ] and cuming to berwik, wraitt back agane to the kingis grace his complaint and admonitioun, the verray tennour and copy whareof followis, and is this:-- maist gratious and sovering lord under the lord and king of all, of whome only thy hienes and majestie has power and authoritie to exercise justice within this thy realme, under god, who is king and lorde of all realmes, and thy grace and all mortale kingis ar bott onlye servandis unto that onlie immortall prince christ jesus, etc. it is nott (i wate) unknawin to thy gratious[ ] hieness, how that thy grace's umquhill servand and oratour, (and ever shalbe to my lyves end,) is departed out of thy realme unto the nixt adjacent of ingland. nochtheless i beleve the causse of my departing is unknawin to thy gratious[ ] majestie: quhilk only is, becaus the bischoppis and kirkmen of thy realme hes had heirtofoir sick authoritie upoun thy subjectis, that appearandly thei war rather king, and thow the subject, (quhilk injust regiment is of the selfe false, and contrair to holy scripture and law of god,) than thow thair king and maistir, and thei thy subjectis, (quhilk is verray trew, and testifiet expreasslie be the word of god.) and also, becaus thei will give no man of onye degree or staite (whome thei oft falslie call heretykis) audience, tyme, nor place to speak and have defence; quhilk is aganist all law, boith the ald law, called the law of moses, and the new law of the evangell. so that, gif i mycht have had audience and place to speak, and have schawin my just defence, conforme to the law of god, i should never have fled to any uther realme, suppose it should haif cost me my lyiff. bot becaus i beleved that i should haif haid no audience nor place to answer, (thei ar so great with thy grace,) i departed, not dowttand, bott moved of god, unto ane bettire tyme that god illuminate thy grace's eyn, to give everie man audience (as thow should and may, and is bound of the law of god,) who ar accused to the death. and to certifie thy hienes that thir ar no vane wordis, bot of dead and effect, heir i offer me to thy grace to come in thy realme agane, so that thy grace will give me audience, and hear what i have for me of the law of god: and caus ony bischope or abbot, frear or secular, quhilk is maist cuning, (some of thame cane not read thair matynes who ar maid judgeis in heresye!) to impugne me be the law of god; and give my parte be found wrang, thy grace being present and judge, i refuse no pane worthie or condigne for my falt. and give that i convict thame by the lawe of god, and that thei have nothing to lay to my charge, bot the law of man, and thair awin inventionis to uphald thair vane glorie and prydfull lyif, and dalye scorgeing of thy poore liegis; i reporte me to thy grace, as judge, whither he hes the victorye that haldis him at the law of god, quhilk cane not faill nor be false, or thei that haldis thame at the law of man, quhilk is rycht oft plane contrarie and aganis the law of god, and thairfoir of necessitie fals, and full of lesingis? for all thing that is contrarie to the veritie, (quhilk is christ and his law,) is of necessitie ane lesing. and to witnes that this cumis of all my harte, i shall remane in berwik whill i gett thy grace's answer, and shall without faill returne, haveing thy hand wreitt that i may haif audience, and place to speak. no more i desyre of thee; whaireof gif i had bene suire, i should never have departed. and that thow may know the treuth thairof, gif feare of the justness of my cause, or dredour of persequutioun for the same, had moved me to departe, i wold not so pleasandlie reverte: only distrust thairfoir was the caus of my departing. pardone me to say that quhilk lyes to thy grace's charge. thow arte bound by the law of god, (suppoise thei falslie lye, saying it perteanes nott to thy grace till intromett wyth sic materis,) to caus everie man, in any case, accused of his lyef, to have his just defence, and his accusaris produceit conforme to thair awin law. thei blynd thy grace's eyn, that knawis nothing of thair law: bot gif i prove nocht this out of thair awin law, i offer me to the death. thy grace, thairfoir, by experience may daly learne, (seing thei nether fear the king of heavin, as thair lyves testiffis, neyther thee thair naturall prince, as thare usurped power in thy actionis schawis,) why thy hienes should lye no langar blindit. thow may considder, that thei pretend nothing ellis bot only the mantenance and uphald of thair bardit mullis,[ ] augmenting of thare insatiable avarice, and continewall doune thringing and swallowing up thy poore lieges; nether preaching nor teaching out of the law of god, (as thei should,) to the rude, ignorant people, bot ay contending wha may be maist hie, maist riche, and nerrest thy grace, to putt the temporall lordis and liegis out of thy counsall[ ] and favour, who should be, and ar, maist tendir servandis to thy grace in all tyme of neid, to the defence of thee and thy croune. and whare thei desyre thy grace to putt at thy temporale lordis and liegis, because thei dispise thair vitiouse lyif, what ellis intend thei bot only thy death and destructioun? as thow may easilie perceave, suppoise thei cullour thair false intent and mynd, with the persute of heresye. for when thy baronis ar putt doun, what arte thow bot the king of bane?[ ] and then of necessitie man be guydit be thame: and thare, (no doubt,) whare ane blynd man is guyd, mon be ane fall in the myre. thairfoir lett thy grace tack hardiment and authoritie, quhilk thow hes of god, and suffer nott thair crewell persecutioun to procead, without audience geving to him that is accused, and just place of defence. and then, (no dowbt,) thow shall haif thy liegis hartis, and all that thei cane or may doo in tyme of neid; tranquillitie, justice, and policie in thy realme, and finallie, the kingdom of the heavins. please to gar have this, or the copy, to the clergy and kirkmen, and keap the principale, and thy grace shall have experience gif i go aganis ane worde that i haif hecht. i shall daylie maik my hartlie devotioun for thy grace, and for the prosperitie and wealfair of thy body and saule. i doubt nott bott thy gratiouse hienes will gif answere to thir presentis unto the presentar of this to thy hienes. of berwik, by thy hienes servand and oratour. (_sic subscribitur_,) alexander setoun. this letter was delivered to the kingis awin handis, and of many redd.[ ] but what could greatlie[ ] admonitionis availl, whare the pryde and corruptioun of prelattis commanded what thei pleased, and the flatterie of courteouris fostered the insolent prince in all impietie. * * * * * frome the death of that constant witness of jesus christ, maistir patrik hammyltoun, god disclosing the wickednes of the wicked, as befoir we have hearde, thare was one forress of lynlythqw[ ] tacken, who, after long empreasonment in the sea toure[ ] of sanctandross, was adjudgeit to the fyre by the said bischop james betoun, and his doctouris, for non uther cryme but becaus he had ane new testament in engliss. farther of that history we have nott, except that he deid constantlie, and with great patience, at sanctandross. after whose death, the flame of persecutioun ceassed, till the death of maistir normound gowrlaw, the space of ten yearis[ ] or neyrby; not that thei bloody beastis ceassed by all meanes to suppresse the light of god, and to truble such as in any sorte war suspected to abhore thair corruptioun; but becaus the realme was trubled with intestine and civile warres, in the which much blood was sched; first, at melrose, betuix the dowglasse and baleleweh, in the yeir of god j^m. v^c. twenty sax, the xviiij day of julij; nixt, at lynlythqw, betuix the hammyltonis and the erle of levenax, whair the said erle, with many utheris, lost his lyif, the thretten day of september, the year foirsaid; and last, betuix the king him self and the said dowglasses,[ ] whome he banished the realme, and held thame in exyle during his hole dayis. be reassone of these, we say, and of other trubles, the bischoppis and thair bloody bandis cold not fynd the tyme so favorable unto thame as thei requyred, to execut thair tyranny. in this mydd tyme, so did the wisdome of god provide, that hary the eyght, king of england, did abolishe frome his realme the name and authoritie of the pape of rome; suppress the abbayis, and uther places of idolatrie; which geve esperance to diverse realmes, that some godlye reformatioun should thairof have ensewed. and thairfoir, frome this our countrey, did diverse learned men, and utheris that leved in fear of persecutioun, repayre to that realme; whair albeit thei fand not such puritie as thei wished, (and thairfoir diverse of thame socht other countreis,) yit thei eschaped the tyranny of merciless men, and war reserved to better tymes, that thei mycht fructifie within his church, in diverse places and partis, and in diverse vocationis. alexander setoun remaned in england, and publictlie, (with great praise and conforte of many,) tawght the evangell in all sinceritie certane yearis. and albeit the craftynes of wyncester,[ ] and of otheris, circumvened the said alexander, that thei caused him at paules croce to affirme certane thingis that repugned to his formar trew doctrin;[ ] yit it is no dowbt, but that as god potentlie had rung with him in all his lyiff, but that also in his death, (which schortlie after followed,) he fand the mercy of his god, whareupoun he ever exhorted all men to depend. alexander alæsius, maistir johnne fyfe, and that famouse man doctor machabeus, departed unto duch land,[ ] whare by goddis providence thei war distributed to severall places.[ ] makdwell, for his singular prudence,[ ] besydis his learnyng and godlynes, was elected borrow maistir in one of the steadis.[ ] alesius was appointed to the universitie of lipsia;[ ] and so was maistir johnne fyff,[ ] whare, for thare honest behaveour and great cruditioun, thei war halden in admiratioun with all the godly. and in what honour, credite, and estimatioun, doctor machabeus[ ] was with christianus king of denmark, cawpmanhoven,[ ] and famowse men of diverse nationis, cane testifie. thus did god provid for his servandis, and did frustrat the expectatioun of these bloody beastis, who by the death of one, in whome the lyght of god did clearly schyne, intended to have suppressed christis trewth for ever within this realme. but the contrary had god decryed; for his death was the cause, (as said is,) that many did awaik frome the deadly sleape of ignorance, and so did jesus christ, the onlye trew light, schyne unto many, for the way-tackin of one. and albeit that these notable men did never after, (maistir johnne fyfe onlie excepted,) conforte this countree with thair bodelye presence; yit maid thame fructifie in his churche, and raissed thame up lightis out of darkness, to the prase of his awin mercy, and to the just condempnatioun of thame that then rewled, to wit, of the king, counsall, and nobilitie, yea of the hole people, who sufferred such notable personages, without crymes committed, to be injustlie persecuted, and so exyled. otheris war after evin so entraited: but of thame we shall speak in thair awin places. no soonare gatt the bischoppis oportunitie, (which alwyise thei sought,) but so sone renewed thei the battell against jesus christ; for the foirsaid leprouse bischop, in the year of god j^m. v^c. thretty four, caused to be summoned sir williame kirk, adam dayis, hendrie karnes, johnne stewart, indwellaris of leyth,[ ] with diverse otheris, such as, maistir williame johnestoun,[ ] maister henry hendyrson, schoolmaister of edinburgh,[ ] of whome some compeired in the abbay kirk of halyrudhouse, and so abjured and publictlie brynt thare byllis:[ ] otheris compeared nott, and tharefoir war exyled. butt in judgement war produced two, to wit, david stratoun,[ ] a gentilman, and maister normound gowrlay,[ ] a man of reassonable eruditioun, of whom we mon schortlye speak. in maister normound appeared knawledge, albeit joyned with weakness. but in david stratoun, could onlye be espyed, for the first, a haterent against the pride and avaritiousnes of the preastis; for the causse of his delatioun was, he had maid to him self ane fische boit to go to the sea. the bischop of murray, (then being priour of sanctandross,[ ]) and his factouris, urgeid him for the teind thairof. his ansuer was, yf thei wald haif teynd of that which his servandis wane in the sea, it war but reassoun, that thei should come and receave it whare his gatt the stock; and so, as was constantlye affirmed, he caused his servandis cast the tenth fische in the sea agane. processe of curssing was led against him, for non payment of such teindis:[ ] which when he contempned, he was delaited to answer for heresye. it trubled him vehementlie; and thairfoir he begane to frequent the company of such as war godlie; for befoir he had bene ane man verry stubburne, and one that dispysed all reading, (cheaflie of those thingis that war godly;) but miraculouslie, as it war, his appeared to be changeid; for he delyted in nothing but in reading, (albeit him self could not reid,) and was ane vehement exhortar of all men to concord, to qwyetness, and to the contempt of the warld. he frequented much the company of the lard of dun, whome god, in those dayis, had marvelouslie illuminated. upoun a day, as the lard of lowristoun,[ ] that yit lyveth, then being ane young man, was reading unto him upoun the new testament, in ane certane qwyet place in the feildis, as god had appointed, he chaunced to read these sentenceis of our maistir, jesus christ: "he that denyis me befoir men, or is eschamed of me in the myddest of this wicked generatioun, i will deny him in the presence of my father, and befoir his angellis." at which wordis, he suddandlie being as one ravissed, platt him self[ ] upoun his knees, and extending baith handis and visage constantlie to the heavin a reassonable tyme, at lenth he burst furth in these wourdis, "o lorde, i have bene wicked, and justlie may thow extract thy grace from me. but, lord, for thy mercyis saik, lett me never deny thee, nor thy trewth, for fear of death or corporall pane." the ischew declaired that his prayer was not vane: for when he, with the foirsaid maistir normound, was produceid in judgement in the abbey of halyrudhouse, the king him self, (all cled in redd,) being present, great laubouris war maid, that the said david stratoun should have recanteid, and brunt his bill. but he ever standing at his defence, alledgeing that he had not offended, in the end was adjudgeid unto the fyre; and then, when that he perceaved the danger, asked grace of the king, (which he wold willinglye have granted unto him:) the bischoppes proudly answered, that the kingis handis war bound in that case, and that he had no grace to give to such as by thare law war condempned. and so was he, with the said maistir normond, after dennar, upoun the twentye sevin day of august, the zeir of god j^m. v^c. thretty four foirsaid, lead to a place besydis the roode of greynsyd;[ ] and thair thei two war boyth hanged, and brunt, according to the mercy of the papisticall kirk.[ ] to that same dyett war summoned, as befoir we have said, otheris of whome some eschaiped in england,[ ] and so for that present eschaiped the death. this thaire tyranny notwithstanding, the knowledge of god did wonderouslie increase within this realme, partlie by reading, partlie by brotherlye conferance, which in those dangerouse dayis was used to the comforte of many; butt cheaflie by merchantis and marinaris, who, frequenting other cuntreis, heard the trew doctrin affirmed, and the vanitie of the papisticall religioun openlye rebucked: amongis whome war dundy and leyth principalles, against whome was maid ane verry strayte inquisitioun, by david betoun, cruell cardinall;[ ] and diverse war compelled to abjure and burne thair byllis, some in sanctandross, and some at edinburgh. about the same tyme, capitane johnne borthwik was brunt in figure, but by goddis providence eschaiped thair fury.[ ] and this was done, for a spectackle and triumphe to marie of loreane,[ ] laitlie arrived fra france, as wyff to james the fyft, king of scottis. what plagues sche brought with hir, and how thei yitt continew, such as ar nott blynd may manifestlie see. the raige of those bloody beastis proceadith so that the kingis courte it self eschaipit nott that danger; for in it diverse war suspected, and some accused. and yitt ever still did some lycht burst out in the myddis of darknes; for the trewth of christ jesus entered evin in the cloastearis, alsweall of frearis, as of monkis and channounes. johnne lyn, ane gray freare, left his hipocryticall habite, and the den of those murtheraris the gray frearis. ane black freir, called frear kyllour,[ ] sett furth the historye of christis passioun in forme of a play, quhilk he boith preached and practised opinlie in striveling, the king him salf being present, upoun a good friday in the mornyng: in the which, all thingis war so levelye expressed, that the verray sempill people understood and confessed, that as the preastis and obstinat pharisyes persuaded the people to refuise christ jesus, and caused pilat to condampne him; so did the bischoppes, and men called religious, blynd the people, and perswaid princes and judgeis to persecute sick as professis jesus christ his blessed evangell. this plane speaking so enflammed the hartes of all that bare the beastis mark, that thei ceassed nott, till that the said frear kyllour, and with him frear beverage, sir duncane symesoun,[ ] robert froster,[ ] ane gentilman, and dene thomas forret,[ ] channoun regulare and vicar of dolour, ane man of upright lief, who all togetther war cruelly murthered in one fyre,[ ] the last day of februar, in the zeir of [god] .[ ] this cruelty was used be the said cardinall, the chancellar, bischope of glasgw, and the incesteous bischope of dumblane.[ ] after that this cruelty was used in edinburght, upon the castell hill, to the effect that the rest of the bischoppes mycht schaw thame selfis no less fervent to suppress the light of god, than hie of sanctandrose was, war apprehended two in the diosey of glasgw. the one was named jeronimus russall,[ ] a cordyleyr frear, a young man of a meak nature, qwyk spreat, and good letteris; and one kennedy,[ ] who passed not xviij yearis of aige, one of excellent injyne in scotish poesye. to assist the bischope of glasgw in that cruell judgement, or att least to caus him dippe his handis in the blood of the sanctes of god, war send maister john lawder,[ ] maister andro oliphant,[ ] and frear maltman, sergeantis of sathan,[ ] apt for that purpose. the day appointed to thare crueltie approched, the two poore sanctis of god war presented befoir those bloody bowcheouris: grevouse war the crymes that war layed to thare charge. kennedy at the first was faynt, and glaidly wald have recanted. but whill that place of reapentance was denyed unto him, the spreit of god, which is the spreit of all conforte, begane to wyrk into him, yea the inward conforte begane to burst furth, alsweall in visage, as in tung and wourd; for his countenance begane to be chearfull, and with a joyfull voce upoun his kneis, hie said, "o eternal god! how wonderouse is that luf and mercy that thow bearest unto mankynd, and unto me the moist cative and miserable wrache above all utheris; for, evin now, when i wold have denyed thee, and thy sone, our lord jesus christ, my onlye saveour, and so have casten my self in everlesting damnatioun; thow, by thy awin hand, has pulled me frome the verray bottome of hell, and mackis me to feall that heavinlie conforte which tackis fra me that ungodly fear, whairwyth befoir i was oppressed. now i defy death; do what ye please: i praise my god i am readdy." the godly and learned jeronimus, rayled upoun by those godless tyrantes, ansured, "this is your houre and the power of darknes: now sytt ye as judgeis; and we stand wrongfullie accused, and more wrongfullie to be condempned; but the day shall come, when our innocency shall appeare, and that ye shall see your awin blyndness, to your everlesting confusioun. go fordward, and fulfill the measur of your iniquitie." whill that these servandis of god thus behaved thame selfis, aryseth a variance betuix the bischope and the beastis that came from the cardinall; for the bischope said, "i think it better to spayr these men, nor to putt thame to death."[ ] wharat the idiot doctouris offended, said, "what will yo do, my lord? will ye condempne all that my lord cardinall and the other bischoppes and we have done? yf so ye do, ye schaw your self ennemye to the kirk and us, and so we will reputt yow, be ye assured." at which wordis, the faythless man effrayed, adjudgeed the innocentis to dye, according to the desyre of the wicked. the meak and gentill jerome russall conforted the other with many confortable sentences, oft saying unto him, "brother, fear nott: more potent is he that is in us, then is hie that is in the world: the pane that we shall suffer is schorte, and shalbe lycht; but our joy and consolatioun shall never have end: and thairfoir lett us contend to enter in unto our maister and saveour, by the same strait way, which he has traidd[ ] befoir us. death cane not destroy us; for it is destroyed allreaddy by him for whose saik we suffer." wyth these and the like confortable sentences, thei passed to the place of executioun; and constantlie triumphed owir death and sathan, evin in the myddest of the flammyng fyre. and thus did those cruell beastis intend nothing but murther in all the quarteris of this realme.[ ] for so far had that blynded and most vitious man, the prince, (most vitious, we shall call him, for hie nether spaired manis wieff nor madyn, no more after his mariage then he did befoir,)--so far, we say, had he gevin him self to obey the tyranny of those bloody beastis, that he had maid a solempned vow, that none should be spaired that was suspect of heresye, yea, althought it war his awin sone. to press and push him fordward in that his fury, he lacked not flatteraris ynew; for many of his miazeonis war pensionaris to preastis; amangis whome, oliver synclar, yitt remaning ennemy to god, was the principale. and yit did not god cease to give to that blynded prince documentis, that some suddane plague was to fall upoun him, in case hie did not reapent his wicked lief; and that his awin mouth did confesse. for after that sir james hammyltoun was beheaded,[ ] (justlie or injustlie we disput nott,) this visioun came unto him, as to his familiaris him self did declare: the said sir james appeared unto him, having in his handis a drawin sworde, by the which fra the king hie stroke boith the armes, saying to him these wourdis, "tak that, whill thow receave a finall payment for all thy impietie." this visioun,[ ] with sorowfull conteanance, hie schew on the morow; and schortlie thaireftir deid his two sonnes, boith within the space of houris; yea, some say, within the space of sex houris.[ ] in his awin presence, georde steill, his greattest flatterar, and greattest ennemy to god that was in his courte, dropped of his horse, and deid without worde,[ ] that same day that, in oppin audience of many, the said george had refuisscd his portioun of christis kingdome, yf the prayeris of the virgin marie should not bring him thairto. how terrible a visioun the said prince saw, lying in lynlythqw, that nycht that thomas scott,[ ] justice clerk, dyed in edinburgh, men of good credite cane yitt reporte. for effrayed at mydnycht, or after, hie cryed for torches, and reissed all that lay besyd him in the palice, and told that thome scott was dead; for hie had bene at him with a company of devillis, and had said unto him these wordes, "o wo to the day, that ever i knew thee, or thy service; for, for serving of thee against god, against his servandis, and against justice, i am adjudgeid to endless torment." how terrible voces the said thomas scott pronunced befoir his death, men of all estaitis heard; and some that yitt lyve cane witness;[ ] his voce was ever, "_justo dei judicio condemnatus sum:_" that is, i am condempned by goddis just judgement. he was most oppressed for the delatioun and fals accusatioun of such as professed christis evangell, as maister thomas marjoribankis,[ ] and maister hew rig,[ ] then advocattis, did confesse to maister henrie balnavis; who, from the said thome scott, cam to him, as he and maister thomas ballenden[ ] war sytting in sanet geillis kirk, and asked him forgevance in the name of the said thomas. none of these terrible forwarnynges could eyther change or mollifie the heart of the indurat, licherous, and avaritious tyranne; but still he dois procead frome impietie to impietie. for, in the myddest of these admonitionis, he caused putt handis in that notable man, maister george balquhannan,[ ] to whome, for his singulare eruditioun and honest behaveour, was committed the charge to instruct some of his bastard children.[ ] butt, by the mercifull providence of god, he eschaped (albeit with great difficultie,) the rage of these that sought his blood, and remancs alyve to this day, in the yeare of god j^m. v^c. threseor sax yearis, to the glorie of god, to the great honour of his natioun, and unto the conforte of those that delyte in letteris and vertew. that singulare werke of david his psalmes in latine meter and poesie,[ ] besydis many utheris, cane witness the rare graces of god gevin to that man, which that tyrant, by instigatioun of the gray frearis, and of his other flatteraris, wold altogither have devored, yf god had nott providit remeady to his servand by eschaping.[ ] this cruelty and persecutioun[ ] notwithstanding, thei monstouris and hypocreattis the gray frearis, day by day, came farther in contempt; for not only did the learned espy[ ] thare abhominable hypocrisye, but also men, in whom no such graces nor giftis ware thought to have bene, begane plainlie to paynt the same furth to the people; as this ryme, which here we have inserted for the same purpose, maid by alexander erle of glencarne,[ ] yitt alyve, can witnesse, intitulat, ane epistle direct fra the holye armite of allarit,[ ] to his bretheren the gray freires. i, thomas, armite in larite, sainet frances brether[ ] hartlie greit, beseiking yow with ferme[ ] intent, to be walkryfe and diligent; for thir lutherians, rissen of new, our ordour daylie dois persew: thay smaikis do sett their haill intent, to reid this english new testament; and sayes, we have thame clene disceavit. therefore, in haist, they man be stoppit.[ ] our stait hypocrisie they prysse, and us blaspheamis on this wyse, sayand, that we are heretikes, and fals, loud, liand, mastif tykes; cumerars and quellars of christes kirk, sueir swongeouris[ ] that will not wirk, but ydlelie our living wynnes, devouring woulves into sheip skynnes, hurkland with huides into our neck, wyth judas mynd to jouck and beck, seikand christes peple to devoir, the down thringars of god his[ ] glore, professouris of hipocrisie, and doctouris in idolatrie, stout fyschares with the feindis nett, the upclosars of heavins yett, cankcarit corruptars of the creid, homlok sawares amangest good seid, to trow in traytouris, that do men tyiste, the hie way kennand thame fra chryst, monstouris with the beast his mark, dogges that never stintes to bark, kirk men that are with[ ] christ unkend, a sect that sathane self hes send, lurkand in holes, lyke traytour toddes, mantenaris of idoles and false goddes, fantastik fooles and feynzeit fleachearis, to turne fra the treuth[ ] the verie teachearis. for to declair thair haill sentence, wald mekle cummer your conscience. thay say your fayth it is sa stark, your cord and lowsie coit and sark, ye lippin, may bring yow to salvatioun, and quyte excludes christ his passioun. i dreid this doctryne, yf it last, sall either gar us wirk or fast; therfor, with speid we mon provyde, and not our proffit to oureslyde. i schaip my selfe, within schort quhyle, to turse[ ] our ladie in argyle; and there, uncraftie[ ] wyse to wirk, till that we bigged have ane kirk; syne miracles mak be your avyse. thay kettereles, though they had but lyse, the twa part to us they will bring: but ordourlie to dress this thing, a gaist i purpose to gar gang, be counsall of freir walter lang,[ ] quhilk sall mak certane demonstrations, to help us in our procurations, your haly ordour to decoir: that practik he proved anes before, betuix kirkcaldie and kingorne; but lymmars made therat sic skorne, and to his fame maide sic degressioun, sensyne he hard not the kinges confessioun.[ ] thoicht at that tyme he came na speid, i pray yow tak guid will as deid; and him amongest your selves receave, as ane worth mony of the leave. quhat i obteyne may, through his arte, ressoun wald ye had your parte. your ordour handles na monye, but for uther casualitie, as beif, meill, butter, and cheiss, or quhat that we have, that ye plese, send your bretheren _et habete_. as now nocht elles, but _valete_. be thomas your brother at command, a cullurune kythed throw many a land.[ ] when god had gevin unto that indurat prince sufficient documentis, that his rebellioun against his blessed evangell should not prosperouslie succeid, hie rases up against him warr, as that he did against obstinat saull, in the which he miserablie perrished, as we shall after hear. the occasioun of the warr was this. hary the eight, king of england, had a great desyre to have spokin with oure king; and in that poynt travailled so long, till that he gat a full promesse[ ] maid to his ambassadour, lord williame hawart. the place of meatting was appointed [at] york; which the king of england keap[t] with such solempnitie and preparationis, as never for such ane purpoise was sein in england befoir. great brute of that jorney, and some preparatioun for the same was maid in scotland; but in the end, by persuasioun of the cardinall david betoun, and by otheris of his factioun, that jorney was stayed, and the kinges promesse falsefeid. whareupoun war scharpe letteris of reproch send unto the king,[ ] and also unto his counsall. king hary frustrat, returned to london, and after his indignatioun declaired, began to fortifie with men his frontearis foranent scotland. thare war send to the bordouris sir robert bowis, the erle of anguss, and his brother, sir george duglass. upoun what uther trifeling questionis, (as for the debatable land and such like,) the war brak up, we omitt to wryte. the principall occasioun was the falsefeing of the promeisse befoir maid. oure king perceaving that the warr wald ryse, asked the prelattis and kirkmen, what supporte thei wald maik to the susteanyng of the same; for rather wald he yitt satisfie the desyre of his uncle, then he wald hasard warr, whare hie saw nott his force able to resist. thei promissed montanes of gold, (as sathan thaire father did to christ jesus yf he wold wirschipe him;) for rather wold thei have gone to hell, or he should have mett wyth king hary: for then, thought thei, fayr weill our kingdome; and fayr weill, thought the cardinall, his credite and glorie in france. in the end, thei promissed fyftie thousand crownes by year,[ ] to be weall payed, so long as the warres lested; and farther, that thaire servandis, and otheris that appartened unto thame, and war exemed from common service, should not the less serve in tyme of necessitie. these vane promisses lifted up in pryde the harte of the unhappye king: and so begynnis the warr. the realme was quartered, and men war laid in jedburgh and kelso. all man, (foollis we meane,) bragged of victorie; and in verray deid the begynnyng gave us a fayr schaw. for at the first wardane raid, which was maid at the sanct bartholomess day,[ ] in the zeir of god j^m. v^c. fourty twa, was the wardane sir robert bowis, his brother richard bowis, capitane of norhame, sir williame mallerie[ ] knycht, a bastarde sone of the erle of anguss, and james dowglas of parkhead, then rebelles, with a great number of borderaris, soldeouris, and gentilmen, tackin. [sn: haldane rig.] the reade was termed haldane rig.[ ] the erle of anguss, and sir george his brother, did narrowlie eschaipe. our papistis and preastis, proude of this victorye, encouraged the king, so that thare was nothing heard but, "all is owres. thei ar butt heretyckis. yf we be a thousand and thei ten thousand, thei dar not feght. france shall enter the ane parte, and we the other, and so shall england be conqueast within a year." yf any man was sein to smyle att sick vanitie, his was no more bot a tratour and ane heretyck. and yitt by these meanes, men had greattar libertie then thei had befoir, as concernyng thair conscience; for then ceassed the persecutioun. the warr continued till mydd september; and then was send doune the old duck of northfolk,[ ] with such ane army as a hundreth yearis befoir had not come in scotland. thei wer in amassing thaire forses, and setting fordwarte of thare preparationis and munitionis, which ware exceading great, till mydd october, and after; and then thei merched from berwik, and tended to the west, ever holding tweid upoun thair one syd, and never camped from that ryver the space of a myle, during the hole tyme thei continewed in scotland, which was ten or twelf dayis. forresse war runne upon the day to smallame,[ ] stichell, and such place nere about, but many snapparis thei gate. some cornes thei brunt, besydis that which the great host consumed, but small butting thei caryed away. [sn: fala raid.] the king assembled his forse att falow,[ ] (for hie was advertised that thei had promessed to come to edinburght,) and tackin the mustaris all att ane howre, two dayis befoir alhallow evein,[ ] thair war found with him auchttein thousand able men. upoun the bordouris, that awaited upoun the engliss army, war ten thousand men, with the erle of huntlie, lordis erskyn, seytoun, and home. these ware judgeid men ynew to hasard battell, albeit the other war esteamed fourtie thousand. whill the king lyis at fawla, abyding upoun the gunnes, and upoun advertisment frome the armye, the lordis begyne to remember how the king had bene long abused by his flatteraris, and principallie by the pensionaris of the preastis. it was anes concluded, that thei wald mack some new remembrance of lauder-brig[ ] to see yf that wald, for a seassoun, somewhat help the estait of thare cuntrie. but, becaus the lordis could nott aggrie amonges thame selfis, upoun the persones that deserved punishment, (for everie man favored his friend,) the hole eschaiped; and the purpoise was opened unto the king, and by him to the curteouris, who after that, till that thei came to edinburgh, stood in no litill feare: but that was suddandly foryett, as we shall after hear. whill tyme is thus protracted, the engliss army, for skarstye of victualles, (as was bruted,) retearis thame owir twead upoun the nycht, and so begynnes to skaill. whareof the king advertissed, desyris the lordis and barronis to assist him, to follow thame in england. whose answer was, with one consent, "that to defend his persone and realme, thei wold hasard lyef and whatsoever thei had; butt to invaid england, nether had thei so just titill as thei desyred; nether yit could thei be then able to do any thing to the hurte of england, considering that thei had long befoir bene absent fra thair houssis, thare provisioun was spent, thare horse wereyed, and that which was greatest of all, the tyme of year did utterlie reclame." this thare answer seamed to satisfie the king; for hie in woordis praised thare prudent foresight and wyse counsall. but the mynt maid to his curteouris, and that bald repulse of his desyres gevin to him in his awin face, so wounded his proud harte, (for long had hie roung[ ] as him self list,) that he decreed a notable revenge, which, no doubt, he had not failled to have executed, yf god by his awin hand had not cutted the coardis of his impietie. he returnes to edinburgh; the nobilitie, barones, gentilmen, and commones to thair awin habitationis: and this was the secund and thrid dayis of november. without longar delay, at the palice of halyrudhouse, was a new counsall convened, a counsall, we meane, of his abusaris; wharein war accusationis laide against the most parte of the nobilitie. some war heretickis, some favoraris of england, some freindis to the dowglassis, and so could thare be none faythfull to the king, in thaire opinioun. the cardinall and the preastis cast fagottis in the fyre with all thare force; and fynding the king hollie addict to thare devotioun, delivered unto him ane scroll,[ ] conteanyng the names of such as thei, in thare inquisitioun, had convict for heretickis. for this was the ordour of justice, which these holy fatheris keapt in dampnying of innocent men. whosoevir wald delaite any of heresye, he was heard: no respect nor consideratioun had what mynd the delatour bayre to the persone delated; whosoever war produced for witnesses war admitted, how suspitious and infame that ever thei ware; yf two or thre had provin any poynt, that by thare law was holden heresye, that was ane heretick: rested no moir but a day to be affixed to his condempnatioun, and to the executioun of thare corrupted sentence. what man could be innocent, whare such judgeis was party, the world may this day considder. trew it is, by fals judgement and false witnesses, have innocentis bene oppressed from the begynnyng. butt this fredome to sched innocent blood gatt never the devill but in the kingdome of antichrist, "that the innocent should dye, and neyther knaw accusatour nor yitt the witnesses that testifeid against him." butt how shall the antichrist be knowin, yf he shall not be contrarious to god the father, and his sone christ jesus, in law, lief, and doctrin. butt this we omitt. [sn: a ansure worthie of ane prince.] the same scroll had the cardinall and prelattis ones[ ] presented unto the king befoir, what tyme he returned frome the navigatioun about the ylis.[ ] butt then it was refuissed by the prudent and stowt counsall of the lard of grange,[ ] who opened clearly to the king the practise of the prelattis, and the danger that thairof mycht ensew. which considered by the king, (for being out of his passioun, he was tractable,) gave this answer, in the palice of halyrudhouse, to the cardinall and prelattis, after that thei had uttered thair malice, and schew what profit[ ] mycht arise to the croune, yf hie wold follow thair counsall. "pack you, jefwellis:[ ] gett yow to your chargeis, and reforme your awin lyves, and be nott instrumentis of discord betuix my nobilitie and me; or ellis, i avow to god, i shall reforme yow, not as the king of denmark by impreasonment does, neythor yitt as the king of england does, by hanging and heading; but i shall reforme yow by scharpe whingaris,[ ] yf ever i heir such motioun of yow againe." the prelattis dascht and astonyed with this ansure, ceassed for a seassoun to tempt any farther, by rigour against the nobilitie. but now, being informed of all proceadingis by thaire pensionaris, oliver synclar, ross lard of cragye,[ ] and utheris, who war to thame faythfull in all thingis, thei conclude to hasarde ones[ ] agane thare formar suyt; which was no sonar proponed but as sone it was accepted, with no small regrate maid by the kingis awin mouth, that he had so long dyspised thare counsall; "for, (said hie,) now i plainlie see your woordis to be trew. the nobilitie neyther desyres my honour nor continuance; for thei wold nott rydd a myle for my pleasur to follow my ennemyes. [sn: solan moss, how it began.] will ye tharefor fynd me the meanes, how that i may have a raid maid in england, without thare knawledge and consent, that may be knawin to be my awin raide? and i shall bynd me to your counsall for ever." thare concurred togitther achab and his false prophettis; thare war gratulationis and clappin of handis; thare war promisses of diligence, closenes, and felicitie. finally, conclusioun was tackin, that the west bordour of england, which was moist empty of men and garresonis, should be invaided; the kingis awin banner should be thare; oliver,[ ] the great moynzeoun,[ ] should be generall levetenant; but no man should be pryvey, (except the counsall that was thare then present,) of the interprise, till the verray day and executioun thaireof. the bischoppes glaidly took the charge of that raid. letteris war sent to such as thei wold charge to meat the king, day and place appointed. the cardinall, with the earle of errane, war directed to go to haddingtoun, to mack a shaw against the east bordour, when the utheris ware in readdynes to invaid the weast. and thus neather lacked counsall, practise, closenes, nor diligence, to sett fordwarte that interprise: and so, amanges these consultaris, thare was no doubt of ane good successe; and so was the scroll thankfullie receaved by the king him self, and putt into his awin pocket, whare it remaned to the day of his death, and then was found. in it war conteaned mo then ane hundreth landed men, besydis otheris of meaner degree, amonges whome was the lord hammyltoun him self,[ ] then secound persone of the realme, delaited. it was bruted, that this read was devised by the lord maxwell;[ ] butt the certaintie thairof we have not. the nyght befoir the day appointed to the interprise, the king was found at lowmabane.[ ] to him cumis cumpanyes frome all quarteris, as thei war appointed, no man knowing of ane uther, (for no generall proclamatioun past, but prevey letteris,) nether yitt did the multitude know any thing of the purpose till after mydnycht, when that the trompet blew, and commanded all man to march fordwart, and to follow the king, (who was constantlye supposed to have bene in the host.) guydes war appointed to conduct thame towardis england, as boith faythfullye and closlye thei did. upon the point of day, thei approched to the ennemys ground; and so passes the wattir without any great resistance maid unto thame. the forrow[ ] goes furth, fyre ryses, herschip mycht have bein sein on everie syd. the unprovedeid people war all together amased; for brycht day appearing, thei saw ane army of ten thowsand men; thare cornes and howssis[ ] upoun every syd send flambes of fyre unto the heavin. to thame it was more then a wonder, that such a multitud could have bene assembled and convoyed, no knowledge thairof cuming to any of thare wardanes. for supporte thei looked nott; and so at the first thei ware utterlie dispared. and yitt begane thei to assemble togitther, ten in one company, twenty in ane uther; and so, as the fray proceaded, thare troopes encreassed, but to no number; (for carleyle, fearing to have bein assaulted, suffered no man to ishe out of thare yettis;) and so the greatast nomber, that ever appeared or approched befoir the discomfitour, past nott thre or foure hundreth men; and yitt thei maid hott skarmisching, as in thair awin ground, in such fates,[ ] thei ar most experte. about ten houris, when fyris war kendilled and almost slokned[ ] on every syd, thought olyver tyme to schaw his glorie; and so incontinent was displayed the kingis baner; oliver upoun spearis lyft up upoun menis schoulderis, and thair with sound of trompett was he proclamed generall lievtenneant, and all man commanded to obey him, as the kingis awin persone under all hieast panes. thare was present the lord maxwaill, wardane, to whome the regiment,[ ] in absence of the king, propirlie apperteaned: he heard and saw all, butt thought more then he spak. thare war also present the erles glencarne and cassiles, with the lord flemyng, and many uther lordis, baronis, and gentilmen of lotheane, fyf, anguss, and mearnes. in this mean tyme did the skirmishing grow hottar[ ] then it was befoir: schouttis war heard on everie syd. some scottismen war stryckin doune; some not knowing the ground lared, and lost thair horse.[ ] some engliss horse of purpose war lett lowse, to provok gready and imprudent men to preak[ ] at thame; as many did, but fand no advantage. whill such disordour ryses more and more in the army, men cryed in everie care, "my lord lievetennant, what will ye do." charge was gevin, that all man should lyght and go to array; for thei wald fight it. otheris cryed, "against whome will ye feght? yone men will feght non utherwyise then ye see thame do, yf ye will stand hear whill the morne." new purpose was tackin, that the foott men, (thei had with thame certane bandis of soldeouris,[ ]) should softlye retear towardis scotland, and the horsemen should tack thare horse agane, and so follow in ordour. great was the noyse and confusioun that was heard, whill that everie man calles his awin sloghorne.[ ] the day was neyre spent, and that was the cause of the greatast fear. the lord maxwell perceiving what wold be the end of such begynnynges, stood upoun his foote with his freandis, who being admonissed to tack his horse, and provide for him self; ansured, "nay, i will rather abyd hear the chance that it shall please god to send me, then to go home and thare be hanged." and so hie remaned upoun his foote, and was tackin, whill the multitud fledd, and took the greattar schame. the ennemeis perceaving the disordour, increassed in courage. befoir thei shouted; but then thei strok. thei schote spearis and dagged arrowis, whare the cumpanyes war thikest. some reacuntaris war maid, but nothing availled. the soldeouris caist from thame thaire pickis, culveringis, and utheris weaponis fensable; the horsmen left thair spearis; and so, without judgement, all man fled. the sea was filling, and so the watter maid great stope; but the fear was such as happy was hie that mycht gett a tackar. such as passed the watter and eschaped that danger, nott weill acquented with the ground, fell into the sollen moss.[ ] the entrie thairof was pleasing yneuch, but as thei proceaded, all that took that way, eyther lost thare horse, or ellis thame selfis and horse boith. to be schort, a greattar feir and disconfiture, without cause, hes seldome bein sein. for it is said, that whare the men war nott sufficient to tack the handis of presonaris, some rane to houssis, and randred thame selfis to wemen. stout oliver[ ] was without strack tackin, fleing full manfully; and so was his glorie (stincking and foolishe proudnes we should call it,) suddandly turned to confusioun and schame. in that disconfiture war tackin the two erles foirsaid, the lordis flemyng, somervaill, and many otheris baronis and gentilmen, besydis the great multitud of servandis. worldly men may think, that all this came but by mysordour and fortoun, (as thei terme it;) but whosoever has the least sponk of the knowledge of god, may as evidentlie see the werk of his hand in this disconfiture, as ever was sein in any of the battelles left to us in registre by the holy ghost. [sn: . reg. .] for what more evident declaratioun have we, that god faught against benhadab, king of aram, when he was disconfited at samaria, then that we have that god faught with his awin arme against scotland? in this formare disconfiture, thare did two hundreth and thretty personis in the skyrmyshe, with sevin thousand following them in the great battell, putt to flyght the said benhadad with thretty kingis in his cumpany. but hear thare is, in this schamefull disconfiture of scotland, verray few mo then three hundreth men, without knowledge of any back or battell to follow, putt to flight ten thowsand men without resistance maide. thare did everie man reaconter his marrow, till that the slew such as matched thame. but heir without slawchter the multitud fled. thare had those of samaria the prophete of god to conforte, to instruct, and to promesse victorie unto thame. but england, in that persute, had nothing, but as god secreatlie wrought by his providence in these men that knew nothing of his wirking, nether yitt of the causes thareof, more then the wall that fell upoun the rest of benhadadis army knew what it did. and tharefor, yit agane we say, that such as in that suddane dejectioun beholdis not the hand of god, feghting against pride for fredome of his awin litill flock, injustly persecutted, dois willingly and malitiouslie obscure the glorie of god. but the end thairof is yitt more notable. the certane knowledge of the disconfiture cuming to the kingis earis, (who wated upoun newes at lowmaban,[ ]) hie was stryckin with ane suddane feare and astonisment, so that skarslye could hie speak, or had[ ] purpoise with any man. the nycht constrayned him to remane whare he was, and so yead[ ] to bed; but raise without rest or qwyet sleape. his continuall complaint was, "oh, fled oliver! is oliver tane? oh, fled oliver!" and these woordis in his melancholie, and as it war caryed away in ane transe, repeated hie from tyme to tyme, to the verray hour of his death. upone the morne, which was sanct katherins day,[ ] returned he to edinburgh, and so did the cardinall from hadingtoun. but the one being eschamed of the other, the brute of thare communicatioun came nott to publict audience. the king maid inventorie of his poise, of all his juwellis and other substance;[ ] and tharefter, as eschamed to look any man in the face, secreatlie departed to fyfe, and cuming to the hall-yardis,[ ] was humanlie receaved of the ladye[ ] grange, ane ancient and godly matron, (the lard at his cuming was absent.) in his cumpany war only with him williame kirkaldy, now lard of grange, and some otheris that wated upoun his chalmer. the lady at suppar, persaving him pensive, begane to conforte him, and willed him to tack the werk of god in good parte. "my portioun, (said he,) of this world is schorte, for i will nott be with you fyvetene dayis." his servandis reparing unto him, asked, whare hie wold have provisioun maid for his yule?[ ] quhilk then approched. he ansuered, with a disdanefull smyrk, "i can nott tell: chuse ye the place. butt this i cane tell you, or yule day,[ ] ye wilbe maisterless, and the realme without ane king." becaus of his displeasur, no man durst mack contradictioun unto him. so after that hie had visited the castell of carny,[ ] perteanyng to the erle of crawfurd, whare the said erles dowghter, ane of his hoores,[ ] was, hie returned to falkland and took bedd. and albeit thare appeared unto him no signes of death, yet hie constantly affirmed, befoir such ane day, "i shalbe dead." [sn: reginÆ nativitas] in this meantyme, was the quene upoun the point of hir delivery in linlithqw, who was delivered the awcht day of december,[ ] in the yeare of god j^m. v^c. fourty twa yearis, of marie, that then was borne, and now dois ring for a plague to this realme, as the progress of hir hole lief hath to this day declaired. the certantie that a dowghter was borne unto him cuming to his earis, he turned from such as spak with him, and said, "the devill go with it! it will end as it begane: it came from a woman; and it will end in a woman." after that, hie spak nott many woordis that war sensible. but ever hie harped upoun his old song, "fy, fled oliver! is oliver tane? all is loist." [sn: regis exitus.] in this meantyme, in his great extremitie, cumes the cardinall, (ane apt confortare for a desperat man.) he cryes in his ear, "tak ordour, schir, with your realme: who shall rewill during the minoritie of your dowghter? ye have knawin my service: what will ye have done? shall thare nott be four regentes chosyn? and shall nott i be principall of thame?" whatsoever the king answered, documentis war tackin that so should be, as my lord cardinall thought expedient.[ ] as many affirme, a dead manes hand was maid to subscrive ane blank, that thei mycht wryte above it what pleased thame best. this finissed, the cardinall posted to the quene, laitly befoir delivered, as said is. at the first sight of the cardinall, sche said, "welcome, my lord: is nott the king dead?" what moved hir so to conjecture, diverse men ar of diverse judgementis. many whisper, that of old his parte was in the pott, and that the suspition thairof caused him to be inhibite the quenis cumpany. howsoever it was befoir, it is plane that after the kingis death, and during the cardinallis lyif, whosoever guyded the court, he gat his secreat besynes sped of that gratiouse lady, eyther by day or by nycht. howsoever the tydingis lyked hir, she mended with als great expeditioun of that dowghter as ever she did befoir of any sone she bayre. the tyme of hir purificatioun was sonar then the leviticall law appointes. but she was no jewess, and thairefore in that she offended nott.[ ] the noyse of the death of king james divulgat, who departed this lyef, the threttene day of december, the year of god foirsaid,[ ] the hartes of men begane to be disclossed. all man lamented that the realme was left without a male to succeid; yit some rejosed that such ane ennemy to goddis treuth was tackin away. hie was called of some, a good poore manis king: of otheris hie was termed a murtherare of the nobilitie, and one that had decreed thair hole destructioun. some prased him for the repressing of thyft and oppressioun; otheris disprased him for the defoulling of menis wyffis and virgines. and thus men spak evin as affectionis led thame. and yitt none spack all together besydis the treuth; for a parte of all these foresaidis war so manifest, that as the verteuis could nott be denyed, so could nott the vices by any craft be clocked. the questioun of governement was throught this realme universallie moved. the cardinall proclamed the kingis last will,[ ] and thairin war expressed foure protectouris, or regentis, of whome him self was the first and principall, and with him war joyned the erles huntley, ergyle, and murray.[ ] this was done the mononday at the mercat croce of edinburgh. but the mononday following, took the hole regentis remissioun for there usurpatioun; for by the stout and wyese counsall of the larde of grange, did the erle of errane, then secound persone to the croune,[ ] causse assemble the nobilitie of the realme, and required the equitie of thare judgementis in that his just suyt to the governement of this realm, during the minoritie of hir to whome hie was to succeid, failling of hir and of hir lauchfull successioun.[ ] his freindis convened, the nobilitie assembled, the day of decisioun is appointed. [sn: the cardinalis reassonis against the governement of hammyltonis.] the cardinall and his factioun oppones[ ] thame to the governement of one man, and especiallie to the regiment of any called hammyltoun: "for who knowis nott, (say the cardinall,) that the hammyltonis ar cruell murtheraris, oppressouris of innocentis, proud, avaritiouse, duble, and false; and finallie, the pestilence in this commoun wealth." whairto the said erle ansured, "defraude me not of my right, and call me what ye please. whatsoever my freindis have bene, yitt, unto this day, hes no man caus to complaine upoun me, nether yitt am i mynded to flatter any of my freindis in thare evill doing; but by goddis grace shalbe as fordwarte to correct thare enormities, as any within the realme cane reassonablie requyre of me. and tharefor, yit agane, my lordis, in goddis name i crave that ye do me no wrong, nor defraud me not of my just titill befoir that ye have experience of my governement." at these woordis, war all that feared god or loved honestie so moved, that with one voce thei cryed, "that petitioun is most just, and onless we will do against god, justice, and equitie, it can nott be denyed." and, in dispyte of the cardinall and his suborned factioun, was he declaired governour, and with publict proclamatioun so denunceid to the people. the kingis palace, treasure, jewellis, garmentis, horse, and plate,[ ] war delivered unto him by the officiaris that had the formar charge; and he honored, feared, and obeyed more hartlie, then ever any king was befoir, so long as his abood at god. the caus of the great favor that was borne unto him was, that it was bruted that hie favored goddis woord; and becaus it was weall knowin, that hie was one appointed to have bene persecuted, as the scroll found in the kingis pockat, after his death, did witnesse. these two thingis to gitther, with ane opinioun that men had of his simplicitie, bowed the hartes of many unto him in the begynnyng, who after, with dolour of hartes, war compelled to change thare opinionis: but heirof will after be spoken. the varietie of materis that occurred we omitt, such as the ordour tackin for keaping of the young quene;[ ] of the provisioun for the mother; the home calling of the dowglassis; and other such, as apperteane to ane universall historye of the tyme: for, as befoir we have said, we mynd only to follow the progresse of the religioun, and of the matteris that cane not be dissevered from the same. * * * * * the governour[ ] establissed in governement, godly men repaired unto him, exhorted him to call to mynd for what end god had exalted him; out of what danger he had delivered him; and what expectatioun all men of honestie had of him. at thare instant suyting, more then of his awin motioun, was thomas guylliame,[ ] a blak freare, called to be precher. the man was of solid judgement, reassonable letteris, (as for that age,) and of a prompt and good utterance: his doctrine was holsome, without great vehemency against superstitioun. preached also sometymes johnne rowght, (who after, for the veritie of christ jesus, sufferred in england, in the dayis of marie of curssed memorie,[ ]) albeit not so learned, yett more sempill, and more vehement against all impietie. the doctrine of these two provoked against thame, and against the governour also, the hatterent of all such as more favored darknes then light, and thare awin bellyes more then god. the gray frearis, (and amonges the rest frear scott,[ ] who befoir had geavin him self furth for the greatest professour of christ jesus within scotland, and under that cullour had disclosed, and so endangered many,) these slaves of sathan, we say, rowped as thei had bein ravinis, yea, rather thei yelled and rored as devillis in hell, "heresy! heresy! guylliame and rought will cary the govornour to the dewill." the toune of edinburgh, for the most parte, was drouned in superstitioun: edwarte hope,[ ] young williame adamsone, sibilla lyndesay, patrik lyndesay,[ ] francess aikman; and in the cannogait, johnne mackaw, and ryngzeane broune, with few otheris, had the bruyte of knowledge in those dayis. ane wilsone, servand to the bisehope of dunkell, who nether knew the new testament nor the old, made a dispytfull rayling ballat against the preachcouris, and against the govenour, for the which he narrowly eschaped hanging. the cardinall moved boith heavin and hell to trouble the governour, and to stay the preaching; but yitt was the battell stowtlye foughtin for a seassone; for he was tackin, and was put first in dalkeith, after in seatoun. but at lenth by buddis gevin[ ] to the said lord seatoun, and to the old larde of lethingtoun,[ ] he was restored to sanctandross,[ ] frome whense he wrought all myscheif, as we shall after heare. the parliament approched, which was befoir the pashe;[ ] thare begane questioun of the abolishing of certane tyrannicall actes, made befoir,[ ] at devotioun of the prelattis, for manteanyng of thair kingdom of darkness, to witt, "that under pane of heresye, no man should reade any parte of the scriptures in the engliss toung, nether yitt any tractat or expositioun of any place of scripture." such articles begane to come in questioun we say, and men begane to inquyre, yf it was nott als lauchfull to men that understoode no latyne, to use the woorde of thare salvatioun in the toung thei understood, as it was for latine men to have it in latyne, græcianes or hebrewis to have it in thare tounges. it was ansured, that the kirk first had forbiddin all tounges but thei three. but men demanded, when that inhibitioun was gevin; and what counsall had ordeaned that, considering, that in the dayis of chrisostome he compleanes, that the people used not the psalmes, and other holy bookis, in thare awin toungis? and yf ye will say thei war greakis, and understoode the greak toung; we ansure, that christ jesus commanded his woorde to be preached to all nationis. now, yf it aught to be preached to all nationis,[ ] it must be preached in the tung thei understand: now, yf it be lauchfull to preach it, and to hear it preached[ ] in all tounges, why shall it not be lauchfull to read it, and to hear it red in all tounges? to the end that the people may trye the spreittis, according to the commandiment of the apostill. beaten with these and other reassonis, thei denyed not but it may be red in the vulgar toung, providit that the translatioun war trew. it was demanded, what could be reprehended in it? and when much searching was maid, nothing could be found, but that luif, say thei, was putt in the place of cheritie. when the questioun was asked, what difference was betuix the one and the other, and yf thei understud the nature of the greak terme _agape_?[ ] thei war dume. ressoned for the party of the secularis, the lord ruthven, (father to him that prudentlie gave counsall to tack just punishment upoun that knaif dawie,[ ] for that he abused the unhappy king hary[ ] in mo cases then one,) a stout and discreat man in the cause of god, and maister henrie balnevis, ane old professour: for the parte of the clargie, hay, dene of restalrige,[ ] and certane old boses with him. [sn: [g]et the name.] the conclusioun was, the commissionaris of browghtis, and a parte of the nobilitie requyred of the parliament, that it mycht be ennacted, "that it should be lauchfull[ ] to everie man to use the benefite of the translatioun which then thei had of the bibill and new testament, togitther with the benefite of other tractises conteanyng holsome doctrine, unto such tyme as the prelattis and kirk men should geve and sett furth unto thame ane translatioun more correct." the clargy hearto long repugned; butt in the end, convicted by reassonis and by multitud of votes in thare contrare, thei also condiscended; and so by act of parliament, it was maid free to all man and woman to reid the scriptures in thair awin toung, or in the engliss toung:[ ] and so war all actes maid in the contrair abolished. this was no small victorie of christ jesus, feghting against the conjured ennemyes of his veritie; not small conforte to such as befoir war holdin in such bondage, that thei durst not have red the lordis prayer, the ten commandimentis, nor articules of thare fayth, in the engliss toung, but thei should have bene accused of heresye. then mycht have bene sein the byble lying almaist upoun everie gentilmanis table. the new testament was borne about in many manis handes. we grant, that some (alace!) prophaned that blessed wourd; for some that, perchance, had never red ten sentenses in it, had it maist common in thare hand; thei wold chope thare familiares on the cheak with it, and say, "this hes lyne hyd under my bed-feitt these ten yearis." otheris wold glorie, "o! how oft have i bein in danger for this booke: how secreatlie have i stollen fra my wyff at mydnyeht to reid upoun it." and this was done of many to maik courte thairby; for all man esteamed the governour to have bein the most fervent protestand that was in europa. albeit we say that many abused that libertie granted of god miraculouslye, yitt thairby did the knowledge of god wonderouslie increase, and god geve his holy spreit to sempill men in great aboundance. then ware sett furth werkis in our awin toung, besydis those that came from england, that did disclose the pryde, the craft, the tyranny, and abuses of that romane antichrist. the fame of our governour was spred in diverse cuntreis, and many praised god for him. king hary send unto him his ambassadour, mr. saidlar,[ ] who lay in edinburgh a great parte of the sommer. his commissioun and negotiatioun was, to contract a perpetuall amitie betuix england and scotland: the occasion wharof god had so offerred, that to many men it appeared that from heavin he had declared his good pleasur in that behalf. for to king hary, of jane somer,[ ] (after the death of quene katherin, and of all utheris that mycht haif maid his mariage suspect,) was gevin a sone, edwarte the saxt of blessed memory, eldar some yearis then our maistress, and unto us was left a quene, as befoir we have heard. this wonderfull providence of god caused men of greatast judgement to enter in disputatioun with thame self, whither that, with good conscience, any man mycht repugne to the desyres of the king of england, considdering that thairby all occasioun of warr mycht be cutt of, and great commoditie mycht ensew to his realme. the offerris of king hary war so large, and his demandis so reassonable, that all that lovith quyetness war content tharewith. thare war sent from the parliament to king hary, in commissioun, schir williame hammyltoun,[ ] schir james lermont, and maister henry balnevis;[ ] who long remaynyng in england, so travailled that all thingis concernyng the mariage betuix edwart the saxt and marie quene of scottis was aggreed upoun, except the tyme of hyr deliverance to the custody of englismen. upoun the finall conclusioun of the which head, war added to the formare commissionaris williame erle of glencarne and schir george dowglasse, to whome was gevin ample commissioun and good instructionis. in scotland remaned maister saidlare. [sn: note weall.] advertismentis past so frequentlie betuix, yea, the handis of our lordis so liberallie war anoynted,[ ] besydis other commodities promissed, and of some receaved; for diverse presonaris tackin at solane mosse[ ] war send home ransome free, upoun promesse of thair fidelitie, which, as it was keapt, the ishew will witnesse. butt in the end, so weall war all ones content, (the cardinall, the quene, and the factioun of france, ever excepted,) that solempnedlye, in the abbay of halyrudhouse, was the contract of mariage betuix the personis foirsaid, togetther with all the clausis and conditionis requisite, for the faythfull observatioun tharof, red in publict audience, subscryved, sealled, approved and allowed of the governour for his parte, nobilitie and lordis for thare partes; and that nothing should lack that mycht fortifie the mater, was christis body sacrat, (as papistes terme it,) brokin betuix the said governour and maister saydlar, ambassadour, and receaved of thame boyth as a signe and tockin of the unitie of thare myndis, inviolablye[ ] to keap that contract,[ ] in all poyntis, as thei looked of christ jesus to be saved, and after to be reputed men wourthy of credite befoir the world. [sn: the quenis mariage the secound tym ratified.] the papistes raged against the governour, and against the lordis that consented, and abaide suyre at the contract foirsaide; and they made a brag to depose the governour,[ ] and to confund all: and without delay rased their forces, and came to linlitliqw, where the yong quene was kept.[ ] but, upoun the returneyng of the saidis ambassadouris from england, pacyficatioun was maid for that tyme; for, by the judgements of eyght personis for ather party, chosyn to judge, whitther that any thing was done by the said ambassadouris, in the contracting of that mariage, which to do thei had not sufficient power fra the counsall and parliament, it was found, that all thingis war done according to thare commissioun, and that so thei should stand: and so war the seallis of england and scotland interchanged. maister james fowles,[ ] then clerk of registre, receaved the great seall of england; and maister sadlare receaved the great seall of scotland. the headis of the contract we pass by. those thingis newly ratifeid, the merchantis maid frack[ ] to saill, and to thare trafique, which, by the truble of warris, had some yearis bein hindered. frome edinburgh war frauchted xii schippis richlie ladin, according to the wares of scotland. from other tounes and portes departed other, who all arryved upoun the coast of england, towardis the south, to witt, in yarmouht; and without any great necessitie, entered not only within readis, bot also within portes and places of commandiment, and whare that schippis mycht be arreisted. and becaus of the lait contracted amitie, and gentill intertenement that thei found at the first, thei maid no great expeditioun. bot being, as thei supposed, in securitie, in merynes thei spend the tyme, abyding upoun the wynd. in this meantyme, arryves from france to scotland the abbot of paislay,[ ] called bastard brother to the governour, (whome yitt many esteamed sone to the old bischope of dunkelden, called crychtoun,[ ]) and with him maister david panteyr, (who after was maid bischope of ross.) the brut of the learnyng of these two, and thare honest lyiff, and of thare fervencye and uprychtnes in religioun, was such, that great esperance thare was, that thare presence should haif bene confortable to the kirk of god. for it was constandlye affirmed of some, that without delay, the one and the other wald occupy the pulpete, and trewly preach jesus christ. but few dayis disclosed thair hypochrisye; for what terrouris, what promisses, or what enchanting boxis thei brought fra france, the commoun people knew not. but schort after, it was sein, that frear guylliame was inhibite to preach, and so departed to england; johnne rowght to kyle,[ ] (a receptakle of goddis servandis of old.) the men of counsall, judgement, and godlynes, that had travailled to promote the governour, and that gave him faythfull counsall in all dowtfull materis, war eyther craftely conveyed from him, or ellis, by threatnyng to be hanged, war compelled to leave him. of the one nomber, war the lard of grange foirsaid, maister henry balnavis, maister thomas ballentyne,[ ] and schir david lyndesay of the mont;[ ] men by whose laubouris he was promoted to honour, and by whose counsall he so used him self at the begynnyng, that the obedience gevin to him was nothing inferiour to that obedience that any king of scotland of many yearis had befoir him. yea, in this it did surmont the commoun obedience, that it proceaded from luif of those vertewis that was supposed to have bene in him. off the number of those that war threatned, war maister michaell durham,[ ] maister david borthwik,[ ] david foresse, and david bothwell; who counsalled him to have in his cumpany men fearing god, and not to foster wicked men in thare iniquitie, albeit thei war called his freindis, and war of his surname. this counsall understand by the foirsaid abbote, and by the hammyltonis, (who then repaired to the courte as ravenes to the carioun,) in plane wourdis it was said, "my lord governour nor his freandis will never be at qwyetness, till that a dosone of thire knaiffis that abuse his grace be hanged." these wourdis was spokin in his awin presence, and in the presence of some of thame that had better deserved then so to have bene entracted: the speakar was allowed for his bold and plane speakin. and so the wicked counsall deprehended, honest and godly men left the court and him in the handis of such, as by thare wicked counsall led him so far from god, that he falsefeid his promeise, dipt his handis in the bloode of the sanctes of god, and brought this commoun welth to the verray poynt of utter ruyne.[ ] and these war the first fructis of the abbot of paisley his godlynes and learnyng: butt heirefter we will hear more. [sn: the governour violated his fayth, refused god, and took absolutioun of the dewill.] all honest and godly men banished from the courte, the abbot and his counsall begynnis to lay befoir the inconstant governour, the dangeris that mycht ensew the alteratioun and change of religioun; the power of the king of france; the commoditie that mycht come to him and his house, by reatenyng the ancient league with france; and the great danger that he brought upoun him self, yf, in any joyt, he sufferred the authoritie of the pape to be violated or called in dowbt within this realme: considering that thairupoun only stood the securitie of his rycht to the successioun of the croune of this realme; for by goddis word wold not the devorcement of his father frome elizabeth home, his first wyf,[ ] be found lauchfull, and so wald his secound mariage be judgeit null, and he declaired bastard. caiaphas spak profesy, and yitt wist not what he spak; for, at that tyme, thare was no man that trewlie feared god, that mynded any such thing, but with thare hole force wold have fortifeid the titill that god had gevin unto him, and wold never have called in questioun thingis doun in tyme of darknes. but this head we pas by till god declair his will thairintill. ane other practise was used; for the cardinall being sett at libertie, (as befoir we have heard,) ceassed not to trafique with such of the nobilitie as he mycht draw to his factioun, or corrupt by any meanes, to raise a party against the said governour, and against such as stoode fast at the contract of mariage and peace with england; and so assemblit at linlythqw, the said cardinall, the earlis ergyle, huntely, bothwell, the bischoppis and thare bandis; and thairefter thei passed to striveling, and tooke with thame bayth the quenis, the mother and the dowghter,[ ] and threatned the depositioun of the said governour, as inobedient to thare haly mother the kirk, (so terme thei that harlott of babilon, rome.) the inconstant man, not throwghtlie grounded upoun god, left in his awin default destitut of all good counsall, and having the wicked ever blawing in his earis, "what will ye do! ye will destroy your self and your house for ever:"--the unhappy man, (we say,) beaten with these tentationis, randered him self to the appetites of the wicked; for he qwyetlie stall away from the lordis that war wyth him in[ ] the palice of halyrudhouse, past to stirling, subjected him self to the cardinall and to his counsall, receaved absolutioun, renunced the professioun of christ jesus his holy evangell, and violated his oath that befoir he had maid, for observatioun of the contract and league with england.[ ] at that tyme was our quene crouned,[ ] and new promess maid to france. the certaintie heirof cuming to king hary, our schotish schippis war stayed, the sayles tackin from thare rayes, and the merchantis and marynaris war commanded to suyre custody. new commissioun was send to maister saidlar, (who then still remaned in scotland,[ ]) to demand the caussis of that suddane alteratioun, and to travaill by all meanes possible, that the governour mycht be called back to his formar godly purpoise, and that he wold not do so foolishlie and inhonestlye, yea, so cruelly and unmercyfullie to the realme of scotland; that he wold not only lose the commodities offerred, and that war presentlie to be receaved, but that also he wold expone it to the hasard of fyre and suord, and other inconvenientis that mycht insew the warr that was to follow upoun the violatioun of his fayth: but nothing could availl. the devill keapt fast the grippe that he gatt, yea, evin all the dayis of his governement. for the cardinall gatt his eldast sone in pledge, whom he keapt in the castell of sanctandross, whill the day that goddis hand punished his pryde. king hary perceaving that all hope of the governouris reapentance was lost, called back his ambassadour, and that with fearfull threatnyngis, as edinburgh after felt; denunced warr, maid our schippis pryses, and merchantis and marynaris lauchfull preasonaris, which, to the browghtis of scotland, was no small hearschipp. butt thairat did the cardinall and preastis lawch, and jestinglye he said, "when we shall conqueise england, the merchantis shalbe recompenssed." the somar and the harvist pass ower without any notable thing; for the cardinall and abbot of paislie parted the pray amonges thame: the abused governour bayre the name only. in the begynnyng of the wynter, came the erle of levenox to scotland,[ ] sent fra france in haterent of the governour, whome the king, (by the cardinallis advise,) promessed to pronunce bastard, and so to maik the said erle governour. the cardinall forther putt the said erle in vane hoipe that the quene dowager should marye him. he browght with him some money, and more he after receaved fra the handis of la broche. butt at lenth, perceaving him self frustrate of all expectatioun that he had, eyther by france, or yitt by the promeise of the cardinall, he concluded to leave france, and to seak the favouris of england, and so begane to drawe a factioun aganis the governour; and in haterent of the otheris inconstancie, many favored him in the begynning; for thare assembled at the yule, in the toune of ayre, the erles of anguss, glencarne, cassilles, the lordis maxwaill, [and somerville,][ ] the lard of drumlangrig, the schireff of ayre,[ ] with all the force that thei, and the lordis that remaned constant at the opinioun of england, mycht mack; and after the yule, thei came to leyth. the governoure and cardinall, with thare forces, keape edinburgh, (for thei war slaklie persewed.) men excuse the erle of levenox in that behalf, and layd the blame upoun some that had no will of stewartis regiment. howsoever it was, such ane appointment was maid, that the said erle of levenox was disapoynted of his purpose, and narrowly eschaiped; and first gat him to glasgw, and after to dumbertane. schir george dowglass was delivered to be keapt as pledge. the erle his brother,[ ] was, in the lentrane after, tackin at the sege of glasgw. it was bruyted, that boyth the brethren, and otheris with thame, had lossed thare headis, yf by the providence of god the engliss army had nott arryved the sonare. after that the cardinall had gottin the governour hole addict to his devotioun, and had obtened his intent above a parte of his ennemyes, he begane to practise, how that such as he feared, and thairfoir deadly haited, should be sett by the earis one against ane other, (for in that, thowght the carnall man, stood his greatast securitie.) the lord ruthven he haited, be reassone of his knowledge of goddis woord: the lord gray he feared, becaus at that tyme he used the cumpany of such as professed godliness, and bare small favour to the cardinall. now, thus reassoned the worldly wise man, "yf i can putt ennimitie betuix those two, i shalbe rydd of a great nomber of unfreindis; for the most parte of the cuntrey will either assist the one or the other; and so will thei be otherwise occupied, then to watch for my displeasur." he fyndes the meanes, without longe process; for he laubouris with johnne charterowse, (a man of stout corage and many freindis,)[ ] to accept the provostrie of sanct johnestoun, which he purchasses to him by donatioun of the governour, with a charge to the said toune to obey him as thare lauchfull provest. whareat, not only the said lord ruthven, but also the toune, being offended, gave ane negative ansuer, alledging, that such intrusioun of men in office was hurtfull to thare priviledge and fredom; which granted unto thame free electioun of thare provest from year to year, at a certane tyme appointed, quhilk thei could not nor wold nott prevent. heirat the said johnne offended said, "that he wold occupie that office by force, yf thei wold not give it unto him of benevolence;" and so departed and communicat the mater with the lord gray, with normond leslie, and with other his freindis; whome he easily persuaded to assist him in that persuyt, becaus he appeared to have the governouris ryght, and had nott only a charge to the toune, as said is, but also he purchassed letteris to beseige it, and to tack it by strong hand, yf any resistance war maid unto him. such letteris, we say, made many to favour his actioun. the other maid for defence, and so tuk the maister of ruthven (the lord that after departed in england,)[ ] the mantenance of the toune, having in his cumpany the lard of moncreif,[ ] and other freindis adjacent. the said johnne maid frack for the persuyt; and upoun the magdelane day,[ ] in the mornyng, anno , approched with his forses; the lord gray tacking upoun him the principall charge. it was appointed, that normond leslye, with his freandis, should have come by schip, with munitioun and ordnance, as thei war in reddynes. but becaus the tyde served nott so soone as thei wold, the other thinking him self of sufficient forse, for all that war in the toune, entered in by the brig, whare thei fand no resistance, till that the formar parte was entered a pretty space within the fische gate;[ ] and then the said maister of ruthven, with his cumpany, stowtlie recountred thame, and so rudlye repulsed the formest, that such as war behynd gave back. the place of the retear was so straite, that men that durst not feght, could not flye at thare pleasur, (for the moist part of the lord gray his freindis war upoun the brig;) and so the slaughter was great; for thare fell in the edge of the suord threescoir men. the cardinall had rather that the unhappe had fallen on the other parte; but howsoever it was, he thowght that such truble was his conforte and advantage. the knowledge whareof came unto the earis of the partie that had receaved the disconfiture, and was unto thame no small greaff; for as many of thame entered in that actioun for his pleasour, so thowght thei to have had his fortificatioun and assistance, whairof fynding thame selfis frustrat, thei begane to looke more narrowly to thame selfis, and did not so much attend upon the cardinallis devotioun, as thei had wont to do befoir: and so was a new jelosey engendered amanges thame; for whosoever wold nott play to him the good vallett, was reputed amangis his ennemyes. the cardinall drew the governour to dundye;[ ] for he understood that the erle of rothess and maister henrie balnaves war with the lord gray in the castell of huntlie.[ ] the governour send and commanded the saidis erle and lord, with the foirsaid maister henrie, to come unto him to dundy, and appointeid the nixt day, at ten houris befoir none; which hour thei decreid to keap; and for that purpose assemblet thare folkis at bawgawy,[ ] or thareby. the cardinall advertissed of thare nomber, (thei war mo then thre hundreth men,) thowght it nott good that thei should joyn with the toune, for he feared his awin estaite; and so he persuaded the governour to pas furth of dundy befoir nyne houris, and to tak the strayth way to sanct johnnestoun.[ ] which perceaved by the foirsaid lordis, thei begane to feare that thei war come to persew thame, and so putt thame selves in ordour and array, and merched fordward of purpose to have biddin the uttermost. but the craftie fox foirseing, that in feghtting stood nott his securitie, rane to his last refuge, that is, to manifest treasone; and so consultatioun was tackin how that the force of the otheris mycht be brokin. and at the first, war send the lard of grange and the provest of sanctandross,[ ] (knowing nothing of treason,) to ask "why thei molested my lord governour in his jorney?" whairto thei ansuered, "that thei ment nothing less; for thei came at his grace's commandiment, to have keap the hour in dundy appointed by him, which becaus thei saw prevented, and knawing the cardinall to be thare unfreand,[ ] thei could nott butt suspect thare unprovided cuming furth of the toune; and thairfoir, thei putt thame selfis in ordour not to invaid, but to defend in caise thei war invaded." this ansure reported, was send to thame _the bischope of sanctandross_,* [sn: the abbot of pasley[ ]*] maister david panter, the lardis of balclewhe and coldinknowis, to desyre certane of the other cumpany to talk with thame; which thei easelie obteined, (for thei suspected no treasone.) after long communicatioun, it was demanded, yf that the erle and lord and maister henrie foirsaid, wold nott be content to talk with the governour, providit that the cardinall and his cumpany war of the ground? thei ansuerit, "that the governour mycht command thame in all thinges lauchfull, but thei had no will to be in the cardinalles mercye." fayre promisses ynew war maid for thare securitie. than was the cardinall and his band commanded to depart; as that he did according to the purpoise tackin. the governour remaned and ane certane with him; to whom came without cumpany the saidis erle, lord, and maister henrye. after many fair woordis gevin unto thame all, to witt, "that he wold have thame aggreed with the cardinall; and that he wold have maister henrye balnaves the wyrkar and instrument thairof," he drew thame fordwartes with him towardis sanet johnnestoun, whether to the cardinall was ridden. thei begane to suspect, (albeit it was to lett,) and tharefor thei desyred to have returned to thare folkis, for putting ordour unto thame. but it was ansuerid, "thei should send back fra the toune, but thei most neidis go fordwart with my lord governour." and so, partlye by flatterye and partlye by force, thei war compelled to obey. and how sone that ever thei war within the toune, thei war apprehended, and upoun the morne send all three to the black nesse, whare thei remaned so long as that it pleased the cardinallis graceless grace, and that was till that the band of manrent and of service, sett some of thame at libertie. and thus the cardinall with his craft prevalled on everie syd; so that the scotesh proverbe was trew in him, "so long rynnis the fox, as he fute hes."[ ] whether it was at this his jorney, or at ane other, that that bloody bowchar executed his crueltye upoun the innocent personis in sanct johnestoun, we can not affirme; neyther yett thairin study we to be curious; but rather we travall to expresse the veritie, whersoever it was done, then scrupluslye and exactly to appoint the tymes,[ ] which yitt we omitt nott when the certaintye occurres. the veritie of that cruell fact is this. at sanct paules day,[ ] befoir the first burnyng of edinburgh, came to sanct johnestoun the governour and cardinall, and there, upoun invyous delatioun, war a great nomber of honest men and wemen called befoir the cardinall, accused of heresye; and albeit that thei could be convict of nothing but only of suspitioun that thei had eittin a guse upoun fryday, four men war adjudged to be hanged, and a woman to be drouned; which cruell and most injust sentence was without mercy putt in executioun. the husband was hanged, and the wyfe, having ane suckin babe upoun hir breast, was drowned.--"o lorde, the land is nott yitt purged from such beastlye crueltye; neyther has thy just vengence yitt strickin all that war criminall of thare blood: but the day approchcs when that the punishment of that cruelty and of otheris will evidentlye appear." the names of the men that war hanged, war james huntar, williame lambe,[ ] williame andersoun, james rannelt, burgesses of sanct johnestoun. at that same tyme war banissed schir henrie eldar,[ ] johnne eldar, walter pyper, laurence pullare, with diverse utheris, whose names came nott to our knowledge. that sworne ennemye to christ jesus, and unto all in whome any sponk of trew knowledge appeared, had about that same tyme in preason diverse; amonges whome was johne roger, a blak freir, godly, learned, and ane that had fruetfully preached christ jesus, to the conforte of many in anguss and mearnes, whome that bloody man caused murther in the ground of the sea-toure of sanctandross, and then caused to cast him ower the craig, sparsing a false bruyt, "that the said johnne, seaking to flie, had broken[ ] his awin craig." thus ceassed nott sathan, by all meanes, to manteane his kingdome of darkness, and to suppresse the light of christis evangell. but potent is he against whome thei faught; for when thay wicked war in greatast securitie, then begane god to schaw his anger. for the thride day of maij, in the year of god j^m. v^c. xliiij yearis, without knowledge of any man in scotland, (we meane of such as should haif had the care of the realme,) was seene a great navye of schippis arryving towardis the firth. the postis came to the governour and cardinall, (who boith war in edinburgh,) what multitud of schippis ware sene, and what course thei took. this was upoun the setterday befoir nune. questioun was had, what should thei meane? borne said, it is no doubt but thei ar englismen, and we fear that thei shall land. the cardinall scripped and said, "it is but the island flote: thei ar come to mak a schaw, and to putt us in feare. i shall lodge all the men-of-ware into my cae,[ ] that shall land in scotland." still sittis the cardinall at his dennare, eavin as that thare had bene no danger appearing. men convenis to gase upoun the schippis, some to the castell hill, some to the craiggis, and other places eminent. but thare was no questioun, "with what forces shall we resist, yf we be invadit?" sone after sax houris at nycht, war arryved and had casten anker in the read of leyth, mo then two hundreth sailles. schortlie thare after the admirall schot a flote boite, which, frome grantoun craigis[ ] till be east leyth, sounded the deipe, and so returned to hir schippe. heirof war diverse opinionis. men of judgement foresaw what it ment. but no credite was geavin to any that wold say, "thei mynd to land." and so past all man to his rest, as yf thei schippis had bene a gard for thare defence. upone the poynt of day, upon sounday, the fourt of maij, addressed thei for landing, and ordered thei thare schippis so that a galay or two lade thare snowttis to the craiggis.[ ] the small schippis called pinaces, and light horsmen approched als neir as thei could. the great schippis discharged thare souldiouris in the smallare veschellis, and thei by bottis, sett upon dry land befoir ten houris ten thousand men, as was judged, and mo. the governour and cardinall seing then the thing that thei could nott, or att least thei wold nott beleve befoir, after that thei had maid a brag to feght, fled as fast as horse wold cary them; so that after, thei approched nott within twenty myllis of the danger. the erle of anguss, and george[ ] dowglas war that nycht freed of ward, (thei war in blakness.)[ ] the said schir george in merynes said, "i thank king hary and my gentill maisteris of england." [sn: the birning of edinburgh.] the engliss army betuix twelf and one hour[ ] entered in leyth, fand the tables covered, the dennaris prepared, such aboundance of wyne and victuallis, besydis the other substance, that the lyik riches within the lyik boundis was nott to be found, neyther in scotland nor england. upone the mononday the fyft of maij, came to thame from berwik and the bordour, two thowsand horsmen, who being somewhat reposed, the army, upoun the wedinsday marched towardis the toune of edinburgh, spoyled and brynt the same, and so did thei the palice of halyrudhouse.[ ] the horsmen took the house of cragmyllare, and gatt great spoyle tharein; for it being judged[ ] the strongast house near the toune, other then the castell of edinburgh, all man sowght to saif thare movables thairin. but the stoutness of the larde gave it over without schote of hack-que-boote, and for his reward was caused to merch upoun his foote to londoun. he is now capitane of dumbar and provest of edinburgh.[ ] the englismen seing no resistance, hurlled by force of men cannounes up the calsay to the butter-throne,[ ] or above, and hasarded a schoote at the for-entree of the castell. butt that was to thare awin paines; for thei lying without trinche or gabioun, war exponed to the force of the hole ordinance of the said castell, which schote, and that nott all in vane; for the quheill and extrye of one of the engliss cannownes war brokin, and some of thare men slayne; and so thei left with small honour that interprise, tackin rather of rashnes, then of any advised counsall. when the most parte of the day thei had spoyled and brynt, towardis the nyeht thei returned to leyth, and upoun the morow returned to edinburgh, and executed the rest of goddis judgementis for that tyme. and so when thei had consumed boyth the tounes, thai laded the schippis with spoyle thareof,[ ] and thei by land returned to berwik, using the cuntry for the most parte at thare awin pleasur. this was a parte of the punishment, which god took upoun the realme for infidelitie of the governour, and for the violatioun of his solempned oath. butt this was nott the end; for the realme was devided in two factionis; the one favored france; the other the league laitly contracted with england: the one did in no thingis throwghlie credite the uther; so that the countrey was in extreame calamitie; for to the englismen war delivered diverse strenthis, such as carelaverok, lowmaben and longhame. the maist parte of the bordouris war confederat with england. and albeit that first, at ankrome mure, in februare, in the year of god j^m. v^c. fourty four, was schir raif evers,[ ] with many other englismen slayne, and the yeare after war some of the saidis strenthis recovered; yitt was it nott without great loss and detriment to the commoun wealth. for in the moneth of junij, in the year of god j^m. v^c. fourty fyve, monsoure de lorge,[ ] with bandis of men of warr, came frome france for a further destructioun to scotland; for upoun thare brag was ane army rased. fordwarte go thei towardis wark,[ ] evin in the myddist of harvist. the cardinallis baner was that day displayed, and all his fecallis war charged to be under it. many had befoir promissed, but at the poynt it was left so bayre, that with schame it was schut up in the pock againe, and thei after a schaw returned with more schame to the realme, then skaith to thare ennemyes. the black booke of hammyltoun maikis mentioun of great vassalege[ ] done at that tyme by the governour, and the frenche.[ ] but such as with thare eyis saw the hole progresse, knew that to be a lye, and dois repute it amonges the veniale synnes of that race, which is to speake the best of thameselves thei can. that wynter following, so nurtored the french men, that thei learned to eatt, (yea, to beg,) caikes which at thare entrie thei skorned. without jesting, thei war so miserable entreated, that few returned to france agane with thare lyves. the cardinall had then almost fortifeid the castell of sanctandross, which he maid so strong, in his opinioun, that he regarded neyther england nor france. the erle of levenox, as said is, disapoynted of all thingis in scotland, past to england, whare he was receaved of king hary in protectioun, who gave him to wyffe lady margaret dowglas,[ ] of whome was borne hary, umquhile husband to our jezabell maistres. whill the inconstant governour was sometymes dejected and sometymes resed up againe be the abbot of paslay,[ ] who befoir was called "chaster then any madyn," begane[ ] to schaw him self; for after he had tackin by craft the castellis of edinburgh and dumbar, he tooke also possessioun of his eme's wyiff,[ ] the lady stennoss:[ ] the woman is and hes bein famouse, and is called lady gylton. hir ladiship was holdin alwayis in propertie;[ ] but how many wyiffis and virgenes he hes had sen that tyme in commoun, the world knowis, albeit nott all, and his bastard byrdis[ ] bear some witness. such is the example of holynes that the flock may receave of the papisticall bischoppis. [sn: the woordis of maister george wisharte in dondye.] in the myddest of all the calamities that came upoun the realme after the defectioun of the governour from christ jesus, came in scotland that blissed martyre of god maister george wisharte,[ ] in cumpany of the commissionaris befoir mentionat, in the year of god ; a man of such graces as befoir him war never hard within this realme, yea, and ar rare to be found yit in any man, nocht withstanding this great lyght of god that sence his dayis hes schyned unto us. he was not onlye singularlye learned, aisweall in godlye knowledge, as in all honest humane science; bot also he was so clearlye illummated with the spreat of prophesye, that he saw nott only thingis perteanyng to him self, but also such thingis as some tounes and the hole realme afterward felt, which he foir-spak, nott in secreat, but in the audience of many, as in thare awin places shalbe declaired. the begynnyng of his doctrin was in montrose. tharefra hie departed to dundy, whare, with great admiratioun of all that heard him, he tawght the epistill to the romanes, till that, by procurement of the cardinall, robert myll, then one of the principall men in dundye, and a man that of old had professed knowledge, and for the same had sufferred trublc, gave, in the quenis and governouris name, inhibitioun to the said maister george, that he should truble thare toune no more; for thei wold not suffer it. and this was said unto him, being in the publict place; which heard, he mused a pretty space,[ ] with his eis bent unto the heavin, and thareafter looking sorowfullie to the speakar, and unto the people, he said, "god is witness, that i never mynded your truble, but your conforte. yea, your truble is more dolorous unto me, then it is unto your selves. but i am assured that to refuse goddis word, and to chase from yow his messinger, shall not preserve yow frome truble; but it shall bring yow into it. for god shall send unto yow messingeris, who will not be efinayed of bornyng, nor yitt for banishment. i have offerred unto yow the woorde of salvatioun, and with the hasarde of my lyef i have remaned amanges yow. now ye your selves refuise me, and tharefoir man i leave my innocencye to be declared by my god. yf it be long prosperus with yow, i am nott ledd with the spreitt of treuth. butt and yf truble unlooked for apprehend yow, acknowledge the caus, and turne to god, for he is mercifull. but yf ye turne not at the first, he shall viseitt yow with fyre and sword." these woordis pronunsed, he came doune frome the preaching place. in the kirk present was the lord merschell,[ ] and diverse noblemen, who wold have had the said maister george to have remaned, or ellis to have gone with him in the countrey. butt for no requeast wold he eyther tary in the toune or on that syd of tay any longar. butt with possible expeditioun past to the west-land, whare he begane to offerr goddis woord, which was of many gladlye received, till that the bischop of glasgw, dumbar, by instigatioun of the cardinall came with his gatheringis to the toune of ayr, to mack resistance to the said maister george, and did first occupy the kirk. the erle of glencarne being thairof advertissed, repaired with his freindis to the toune with diligence, and so did diverse gentilmen of kyle, (amonges whome was the lard of lefnoryss,[ ] a man far different frome him that now lyvith*, [sn: anno .*] in maneris and religioun,) of whome to this day yitt many lyve, and have declared thame selfis alwayes zelous and bold in the caus of god, as after wilbe heard. when all war assembled, conclusioun was tackin that thei wold have the kirk; wharto the said maister george utterlye repugned, saying, "lett him allone; his sermon will nott much hurte: lett us go to the merkate croce;" and so thei did, whare he made so notable a sermon, that the verray ennemies thame selves war confounded. [sn: the bischope of glasgow his preaching in ayre.] the bischope preached to his jackmen, and to some old bosses of the toune. the summe of all his sermon was: "thei say that we shuld preach: why nott? bettir late thrive then never thrive: had us still for your bischop, and we shall provid better for the next tyme." this was the begynnyng and the end of the bischoppis sermon, who with haist departed the toune, butt returned nott agane to fulfill his promisse. the said maister george remaned with the gentilmen in kyle, till that he gate suyre knowledge of the estate of dondye. hie preached commonlie at the kirk of gaston,[ ] and used much in the barr.[ ] he was requyred to come to the kirk of mauchlyne, as that he did. but the schiref of ayr[ ] caused man the kirk, for preservatioun of a tabernakle that was thare, bewtyfull to the eie. the personis that held the kirk was george campbell of mongaswood, that yitt lyveth,* [sn: anno .*] mongo campbell of brounesyd, george read in dawdeling, the lard of tempilland.[ ] some zelous of the parishyne, amangis whome hew campbell of kingzeanclewch,[ ] offended that thei shuld be debarred thare parish kirk, concludit by force to enter. but the said maister george withdrew the said hew, and said unto him, "brother, christ jesus is as potent upoun the feildis as in the kirk; and i fynd that he him self often preached in the deserte, at the sea syd, and other places judged prophane, then that he did in the tempill of hierusalem. it is the woord of peace that god sendis by me: the blood of no man shalbe sched this day for the preaching of it." and so with drawing the hole people, he came to a dyck in a mure edge, upoun the sowth-west syd of mauchlyne, upoun the which he ascended. the hole multitude stood and sat about him, (god gave the day pleasing and hote.) he continewed in preach[ing] more then three houris. in that sermoun, god wrowght so wonderfullye with him, that ane of the most wicked men that was in that countrey, named laurence ranckin lard of scheill,[ ] was converted. the tearis rane from his eis in such habundance, that all men wondered. his conversioun was without hipochrysye, for his lyif and conversatioun witnessed it in all tymes to come. whill this faithfull servand of god was thus occupyed in kyle, woord rais that the plague of pestilence was rissen in dondye,[ ] which begane within foure dayis, after that the said maister george was inhibite preaching, and was so vehement, that it almost passed credibilitie, to hear what nomber departed everie foure and twenty houris. the certantie understand, the said maister george tooke his leave of kyle, and that with the regrate of many. bot no requeist could mack him to remane: his reassone was, "thei ar now in truble, and thei nead conforte: perchance this hand of god will make thame now to magnifie and reverence that woord, which befoir (for the fear of men,) thei sett at light price."[ ] cuming unto dondye, the joy of the faythfull was exceading great. he delayed no tyme, bot evin upoun the morow gave significatioun that he wold preache. and becaus the most parte war eyther seak, or ellis war in cumpany with those that war seak, he chosed the head of the east porte of the toune for his preaching place; and so the whole sat or stood within, the seik and suspected without the porte.[ ] the text upoun the which his first sermoun was made, he took fra the hundreth and sevin psalme; the sentence thareof, "he send his woorde and heallod thame;" and tharewith joyned these woordis, "it is neather herbe nor plaster, o lord, butt thy woord healleth all." in the which sermoun, he maist confortablie did intreat the dignitie and utilitie of goddis woord; the punishment that cumis for the contempt of the same; the promptitude of goddis mercy to such as trewlye turne to him; yea, the great happynes of thame whome god tackis from this miserie, evin in his awin gentill visitatioun, which the malice of man cane neyther eak nor paire. by the which sermoun he so rased up the hartis of all that heard him, that thei regarded nott death, but judged thame more happy that should departe, then such as should remane behynd; considering that thei knew nott yf thei shuld have such a confortar with thame at all tymes. he spared not to viseit thame that lay in the verray extreamitie; he conforted thame as that he mycht in such a multitude; he caused minister all thingis necessarye to those that mycht use meat or drynk; and in that poynt was the toune wonderouse beneficiall; for the poore was no more neglected then was the rich. whill he was spending his lyve to conforte the afflicted, the devill ceassed nott to stirr up his awin sone the cardinall agane, who corrupted by money a disperat preast, named schir johne wightone, to slay the said maister george, who looked not to him self in all thingis so circumspectlie as worldlie men wold have wissed. and upoun a day, the sermoun ended, and the people departing, no man suspecting danger, and tharefore nott heading the said maister george, the preast that was corrupted stood wating at the foot of the steppis, his goune lowse, and his whinger drawin into his hand under his gown, the said maister george, as that he was most scharpe of eie and judgement, marked him, and as he came neyr, he said, "my friend, what wald ye do?" and tharewith he clapped his hand upoun the preastis hand, wharein the whingar was, which he tooke from him. the preast abassed, fell down at his feitt, and openly confessed the veritie as it was. the noyse rysing, and cuming to the earis of the seik, thei cryed, "deliver the tratour to us, or ellis we will tack him by forse;" and so thei birst[ ] in at the yett. but maister george took him in his armes, and said, "whosoevir trubles him shall truble me; for he has hurte me in nothing, bot he hes done great conforte boyth to yow and me, to witt, he hes lattin us understand what we may feare in tymes to come. we will watch better." and so he appeased boith the one parte and the other, and saved the lyif of him that soght his. when the plague was so ceassed, that almost thare war none seak, he tooke his leave of thame, and said, "that god had almost putt end to that battell: he fand him self called to ane other." the gentilmen of the west had written unto him, that he should meitt thame at edinburgh; for thei wald requyre disputatioun of the bischoppis, and that he should be publictlie heard. whaireto he willinglye aggreed; but first, he passed to montrose, to salute the kirk thare; whare he remaned occupyed sometymes in preaching, but most parte in secreat meditatioun, in the which he was so earnest, that nycht and day he wold continew in it. whill he was so occupyed with his god, the cardinall drew a secreat drawght for his slawchter. he caused to writt unto him a letter, as it had bein frome his most familiare friend, the larde of kynneyre,[ ] "desyring him with all possible diligence to come unto him, for he was strickin with a suddane seakness." in this meantyme, had the tratour provided thre score men, with jackis and spearis, to lye in wate within a myll and a half of the toune of montrose, for his dispatche. the letter cuming to his hand, he maid haste at the first, (for the boy had brought a horse,) and so with some honest men, he passes forth of the toune. but suddandlye he stayed, and musing a space, returned back; whareat thei wondering, he said, "i will nott go: i am forbiddin of god: i am assured thare is treasone. lett some of yow, (sayis he,) go to yonder place, and tell me what ye fynd." diligence made, thei fand the treassone, as it was; which being schawin with expeditioun to maister george, he ansured, "i know that i shall finysh this[ ] my lief in that blood-thrusty manis handis; butt it will not be of this maner." the tyme approching that he had appointed to meit the gentilmen at edinburght, he took his leave of montrose, and, sore against the judgement of the lard of dune,[ ] he entered in his jorney, and so returned to dondy; but remaned not, but passed to the hous of a faythfull brother, named james watsone, who dwelt in inner gowrye, distant frome the said toune two myles, and that nycht, (as informatioun was gevin to us by williame spadin and johnne watsoun, both men of good credyte,) befoir day a litill he passed furth into a yard. the said williame and johne followed previlie, and took head what he did. when he had gone up and doune into ane alay a ressonable space, with many sobbes and deape grones, he platt upoun[ ] his knees, and setting thareon, his grones increassed; and frome his knees he fell upoun his face; and then the personis fornamed heard weaping and, as it war ane indigest sound, as it war of prayeris, in the which he continewed neyre ane hour, and after begane to be qwiet; and so arrose and came in to his bed. they that awated prevented him, as thei had bein ignorant, till that he came in; and than begane thei to demand whare he had bein? butt that nycht he wold ansuer nothing. upoun the morow, thei urged him agane; and whill that he dissimuled, thei said, "maister george, be plaine with us; for we heard your grones; yea, we heard your bitter murning, and saw yow boyth upoun your kneis and upoun your face." with dejected visage, he said, "i had rather ye had bein in your beddis, and it had bein more profitable to yow, for i was skarse weall occupyed." when thei instantlie urged him to lett thame know some conforte; he said, "i will tell yow, that i am assured that my travail is neir ane end; and tharefor call to god with me, that now i schrink not when the battell waxis moist hoote." and whill that thei weaped, and said, "that was small conforte unto thame;" [sn: prophecie spokin by maister george wisharte.] he ansured, "god shall send yow conforte after me. this realme shalbe illuminated with the light of christis evangell, as clearlie as ever was any realme sence the dayis of the apostles. the house of god shalbe builded in to it. yea, it sall not lack, (whatsoever the ennemye imagyne in the contrare,) the verray cope stone:"[ ] meanyng that it shuld anes be browght to the full perfectioun. "neyther, (said he,) shall this be long to: thare shall nott many suffer after me, till that the glorie of god shall evidently appear, and shall anes triumphe in dispyte of sathan. butt, allace! yf the people shall after be unthankfull, then fearfull and terrible shall the plagues be that after shall follow." and with these woordis he marched fordwardis in his jorney towardis sanct johnestoun; and so to fyff, and then to leyth. whare arryved, and hearing no wourd of those that appointed to meitt him, (to witt, the erle of cassilles, and the gentill men of kyle and cunynghame,[ ]) keap him self secreat a day or two. but begynnyng to wax sorowfull in spreit, and being demanded of the caus, of such as war nott into his cumpany of befoir, he said, "what differ i from a dead man, except that i eat and drynk? to this tyme god hes used my laubouris to the instructioun of otheris, and unto the disclosing of darknes; and now i lurk as a man that war eschamed, and durst not schaw him self befoir men." by these and lyik woordis, thei that heard him understoode that his desyre was to preach; and tharefoir said, "maist confortable it war unto us to hear yow: but becaus we know the danger wharein ye stand, we dar not desyre yow." "but dar ye and otheris hear, (said he,) and then lett my god provide for me, as best pleasith him." finally, it was concluded, that the nixt sounday he should preach in leyth; as that he did, and took the text, "the parable of the sowar that went furth to saw sead," mathæi, . and this was upoun a fyvetene dayis[ ] befoir yule. the sermon ended, the gentill men of lotheane, who then war earnest professouris of christ jesus, thought not expedient that he shuld remane in leyth, becaus that the governour and cardinall war schortlie to come to edinburgh; and tharefore thei tooke him with thame, and keapt him sometymes in brounestoun, sometymes in langnudry, and sometymes in ormestoun; for those thrie[ ] diligentlie awated upoun him. the sounday following, he preached in the kirk of enresk,[ ] besydis mussilburght, both befoir and at after none, whare thare was a great confluence of people, amonges whome was schir george douglass,[ ] who after the sermon said publictlie, [sn: the woordis of sir george dowglass.] "i know that my lord governour and my lord cardinall shall hear that i have bein at this preaching, (for thei war then in edinburght.) say unto thame that i will avow it, and will nott onlye manteane the doctrin that i have hard, bot also the persone of the teachare to the uttermost of my power." which woordis greatly rejosed the people and the gentilmen then present. [sn: maister george wisharte his threatnyng to two gray freiris.] one thing notable in that sermon we can not pass by. amonges otheris thare came two gray frearis, and standing in the entrie of the kirk doore, thei made some whispering to such as came in. which perceaved, the preachar said to the people that stoode ney thame, "i hartlye pray yow to mack roome to those two men: it may be that thei be come to learne." and unto thame he said, "come neyr, (for thei stoode in the verray entrye of the doore,) for i assure yow ye shall heare the woord of veritie, which shall eyther seall in to yow this same day your salvatioun, or condempnatioun." and so proceaded he in doctrin, supposing that thei wold have bein qwyette. but when he perceaved them still to truble the people that stood ney thame, (for vehement was he against the false wirschipping of god,) he turned unto thame the secound tyme, and with ane awfull countenance said, "o sergeantis of sathan, and deceavaris of the soules of men, will ye nether hear goddis trewth, nor suffer otheris to hear it? departe and tack this for your portioun,--god shall schortlie confound and disclose your hipochrisie: within this realme ye shall be abhominable unto men, and your places and habitationis shalbe desolate." this sentence he pronunced with great vehemeneye, in the myddist of the sermoun; and turneying to the people, he said, "yone wicked men have provocked the spreat of god to angar." and so he returned to his mater, and proceaded to the end. that dayis travaill ended, he came to langnudrye; and the two nixt soundayis preached in tranent, with the lyik grace and lyik confluence of people. in all his sermonis, after his departure from anguss, he forespake the schortnes of the tyme that he had to traval, and of his death, the day whairof he said approched neyar then any wold beleve. in the hynder end of those dayis that ar called the holy dayis of yule, past he, by consent of the gentilmen, to hadingtoun, whare it was supposed the greatast confluence of people should be, boyth be reassoun of the toune and of the countrey adjacent. the first day befoir nune the auditouris[ ] was reassonable, and yitt nothing in comparisone of that which used to be in that kyrk. butt the after nune, and the nixt day following befoir nune, the auditure[ ] was so selender, that many wondered. the cause was judged to have bein, that the erle bothwell, who in those boundis used to have great credite and obedience, by procurement of the cardinall, had gevin inhibitioun, asweell unto the toune, as unto the countrey, that thei should nott hear him under the pane of his displeasur. the first nycht he lay within the toune with david forress, now called the generall,[ ] ane man that long hes professed the trueth, and upoun whom many in that tyme depended. the secound nycht, he lay in lethingtoun, the lard[ ] whareof was ever civile, albeit not persuaded in religioun. the day following, befoir the said maister george past to the sermoun, thare came to him a boy with ane letter from the west land, which receaved and red, he called for johne knox,[ ] who had awaited upoun him carefullie frome the tyme he came to lotheane; with whome he began to enter in purpose, "that he weryed of the world:" for he perceaved that men begane to weary of god.[ ] the caus of his complaint was, the gentilmen of the west had writtin unto him, that thei could nott keape dyet at edinburgh. the said johne knox wondering that he desyred to keape any purpoise befoir sermoun, (for that was never his accustomed use befoir,) said, "schir, the tyme of sermoun approches: i will leave yow for the present to your meditatioun;" and so took the bill conteanyng the purpose foirsaid, and left him. the said maister george spaced up and doune behynd the hie altar more then half ane houre: his verray contenance and visage declared the greaf and alteratioun of his mynd. at last, he passed to the pulpett, but the auditure was small. he should have begune to have entreated the secound table of the law; but thareof in that sermoun he spak verray litill, but begane on this maner; "o lord, how long shall it be, that thy holy woord shalbe despysed, and men shall not regard thare awin salvatioun. i have heard of thee, hadingtoun, that in thee wold have bein at ane vane clerk play[ ] two or three thowsand people; and now to hear the messinger of the eternall god, of all thy toune nor parishe can not be nombred a hundreth personis. sore and feirfull shall the plagues be that shall ensew this thy contempt: with fyre and sword thow shalt be plagued; yea, thow haddingtoun, in speciall, strangearis shall possesse thee, and yow, the present inhabitantes shall eyther in bondage serve your ennemyes, or ellis ye shalbe chassed fra your awin habitationis; and that becaus ye have not knawin, nor will nott know the tyme of goddis mercifull visitatioun." in such vehemency and threatnyng continewed that servand of god neyr ane hour and ane half, in the which he declared all the plagues that ensewed, as plainlie as after our eyes saw thame performed. in the end he said, "i have forgotten my self and the mater that i should have entraited; but lett these my last woordis as concernyng publict preaching, remane in your myndis, till that god send yow new conforte." thairefter he maid a schorte paraphrasis upoun the secound table, with ane exhortatioun to patience, to the fear of god, and unto the werkis of mercy; and so putt end, as it war macking his last testament, as the ischew declaired, that the spreat of trewth and of trew judgement war both in his harte and mouth. for that same nycht was he apprehended, befoir mydnycht, in the house of ormestoun, by the erle bothwell, made for money bucheour to the cardinall. the maner of his tackin was thus: departing frome the toune of hadingtoun, he tuk his good nyght, as it war for ever, of all his acquentance, especiallie from hew dowglas of langnudrye. johne knox preassing to have gone with the said maister george, he said, "nay, returne to your barnes, and god blisse yow. one is sufficient for one sacrifice." and so he caused a twa handed sweard, (which commonly was caiyed with the said maister george,) be tackin fra the said johnne knox, who, albeit unwillinglie, obeyit, and returned with hew dowglass of langnudrye.[ ] maister george having to accompany him the lard of ormestoun, johnne sandelandis of caldar youngar, the lard of brounestoun, and otheris, with thare servandis, passed upoun foote, (for it was a vehement frost,) to ormestoun. after suppar he held confortable purpose of the death of goddis chosen childrin, and mearely[ ] said, "methink that i desyre earnestlye to sleap;" and thairwith he said, "will we sing a psalme?" and so he appointed the st psalme, which was put in scotishe meter, and begane thus,-- have mercy on me now, good lord, after thy great mercy, &c.:[ ] which being ended, he past to chalmer, and sonar then his commoun dyet was past to bed, with these wourdis, "god grant qwyet rest." befoir mydnycht, the place was besett about that none could eschape to mack advertisment. the erle bothwell[ ] came and called for the lard, and declaired the purpose, and said, "that it was but vane to maik him to hold his house; for the governour and the cardinall with all thare power war cuming," (and indead the cardinall was at elphinstoun,[ ] not a myle distant frome ormestoun;) [sn: the lord bothwellis promesse.] "butt and yf he wald deliver the man to him, he wold promeise upoun his honour, that he should be saif, and that it should pass the power of the cardinall to do him any harme or skaith." allured with these wordis, and tackin counsall with the said maister george, (who at the first word said, "open the yettis: the blissed will of my god be doun,") thei receaved in the erle bothwell him self, with some gentilmen with him, to whome maister george said, [sn: maister george his woordis to the erle bothwell.] "i praise my god that sa honorable a man as ye, my lord, receavis me this nycht, in the presence of these noble men; for now, i am assured, that for your honouris saik, ye will suffer nothing to be done unto me besydis the ordour of law. i am nott ignorant, that thaire law is nothing but corruptioun, and a clock to sched the bloode of the sanctes; but yitt i lesse fear to dye openlye, then secreatlye to be murthered." the said erle bothwell ansured, "i shall not onlye preserve your body frome all violence, that shalbe purposed against yow without ordour of law, but also i promeisse, hear in the presence of these gentilmen, that neyther shall the governour nor cardinall have thare will of yow;[ ] but i shall reteane yow in my awin handis, and in my awin place, till that eyther i shall mack yow free, or ellis restoir yow in the same place whare i receave yow." the lardis foirsaid said, "my lord, yf ye will do as ye have spokin, and as we think your lordship will do, then do we hear promesse unto your lordschip, that not only we our selfis shall serve yow all the dayis of our lyiff, but also we shall procure the haill professouris within lotheane to do the same. and upoun eyther the preservatioun[ ] of this our brother, or upoun his delyverie agane to our handis, we being reassonable advertissed to receave him, that we, in the name and behalf of our freindis, shall deliver to your lordschip, or to any sufficient man, that shall deliver to us agane this servand of god, our band of manrent in manor foirsaid." as thus promesse maid in the presence of god, and handis stracked upon boith the parties, for observatioun of the premisses,[ ] the said maister george was delivered to the handis of the said erle bothwell, who immediatlye departing with him, came to elphinstoun, whare the cardinall was; who knowing that caldar yongar and brunestoun war with the larde of ormestoun, send back with expeditioun to apprehend thame also. the noyse of horsmen being hard, the servandis gave advertisment, that mo then departed, or that war thare befoir, war returned; and whill that thei disput, what should be the motive, the cardinallis garison had ceased both the utter and the inner close. thei called for the larde, and for the larde of calder, who presenting thame selves, demanded what thare commissioun was. "to bring yow two," say thei, "and the larde of brunestoun to my lord governour." thei war nothing content, (as thei had no cause,) and yitt thei maid fayr contenance, and entreated the gentilmen to tack a drynk, and to bate thare horse, till that thei mycht putt thame selves in redynes to ryd with thame. in this meantyme, brunestoun convoyed him self, fyrst secreatlye, and then by spead of foote, to ormestoun wood, and frome thense to drundallon,[ ] and so eschaped that danger. the other two war putt in the castell of edinburght, whare the one, to witt caldar youngar, remaned whill his band of manrent to the cardinall was the meanes of his deliverance, and the other, to witt ormestoun, fread him self by leapping of the wall of the castell, betuix ten houris and allevin befoir none; and so breakin ward,[ ] he eschaped preassone, which he injustlye sufferred. the servand of god, maister george wisharte, was caryed first to edinburgh; thareafter browght back, for the fassionis saik, to the hous of hales[ ] agane, which was the principall place that then the erle bothwell had in lotheane. but as gold and wemen have corrupted all wordlye and fleschlye men from the begynning, so did thei him. for the cardinall gave gold, and that largelye, and the quene, with whome the said erle was then in the glondouris, promissed favouris in all his lauchfull suyttis to wemen, yf he wold deliver the said maister george to be keap[ ] in the castell of edinburgh. he made some resistance at the first, be reassone of his promesse:[ ] [sn: _ironice._] butt ane effeminat man cane nott long withstand the assaultes of a gratious quein. and so was the servand of god transported to edinburgh castell, whare he remaned nott many dayis. for that bloody wolfe the cardinall, ever thrusting the blood of the servand of god, so travailled with the abused governour, that he was content that goddis servand should be delivered to the power of that tyranne. and so, small inversioun being maid, pilate obeyed the petitioun of cayiaphas and of his fellowis, and adjugeid christ to be crucifeid. the servand of god delivered to the hande of that proude and mercyless tyranne, triumphe was maid by the preastis. the godly lamented, and accused the foolishnes of the governour; for, by the reteanyng of the said maister george, he mycht have caused protestantis and papistis, (rather proude romanistis,) to have served, the ane to the end, that the lyef of thare preachear mycht have bene saved, the other, for fear that he should have sett him at libertie agane, to the confusioun of the bischoppis. but where god is left, (as he had plainlie renunced him before,) what can counsall or judgement availl? how the servand of god was entreated, and what he did frome the day that he entered within the sea-tour of sanctandrose, quhilk was in the end of januare, in the year of god j^m. v^c. xlvj, unto the first of merch[ ] the same year, when he sufferred, we can not certanelye[ ] tell, except we understand that he wrett somewhat being in preason; but that was suppressed by the ennemyes. the cardinall delayed no tyme, but caused all bischoppis, yea, all the cleargy that had any preheminance, to be convocat to sanctandrose against the penult of februare, that consultatioun mycht be had in that questioun, which in his mynd was no less resolved then christis death was in the mynd of caiaphas; butt that the rest should bear the lyek burdein with him, he wold that thei should befoir the world subscrive whatsoever he did.[ ] in that day was wrought no less a wonder than was at the accusatioun and death of jesus christ, when that pilate and herode, who befoir war ennemyes, war maid freindis, by consenting of thame boith to christis condempnatioun, differris nothing, except that pilate and herode war brethrene under thare father the devill, in the estaite called temporall, and these two, of whome we ar to speak, war brethren (sonnes of the same father the devill) in the estaite ecclesiasticall. yf we enterlase merynes with earnest materis, pardon us, goode readar; for the fact is so notable that it deservith long memorye. [sn: the proude cardinall and the glorious foole dumbar.] the cardinall was knowin proude; and dumbare, archibischope of glasgw, was knowin a glorious foole; and yitt, becaus sometymes he was called the kingis maister,[ ] he was chancelour of scotland. the cardinall cumis evin thus same year, in the end of harvest befoir, to glasgw; upoun what purpose we omitt.[ ] [sn: a question worthy of such two prelattis.] but whill they remane togither, the one in the toune, the other in the castell,[ ] questioun ryses for bearing of thare croces. the cardinall alledgeid, by reassoun of his cardinallschip, and that he was _legatus natus_, and primat within scotland, in the kingdom of antichrist, that he should have the pre-eminence, and that his croce should not onlye go befoir, but that also it should onlye be borne, wharesoever he was. good gukstoun glaikstour, the foirsaid archibischop, lacked no reassonis, as he thowght, for mantenance of his glorie: he was ane archibischope in his awin dioscy, and in his awin cathedrall seat and church, and tharefor awght to give place to no man: the power of the cardinall was but begged from rome, and apperteined but to his awin persone, and nott to his bischoprik; for it mycht be, that his successour should nott be cardinall: bot his dignitie was annexed with his office, and did apperteane to all that ever should be bischoppis of glasgw. howsoever these dowbtis war resolved by the doctouris of divinitie of boith the prelattis; yitt the decisioun was as ye shall hear. cuming furth, (or going in, all is one,) att the qweir doore of glasgw kirk, begynnes stryving for state betuix the two croce beraris, so that from glowmyng thei come to schouldering; frome schouldering, thei go to buffettis, and from dry blawes, by neffis and neffelling; and then for cheriteis saik, thei crye, _dispersit, dedit pauperibus_, and assayis quhilk of the croces war fynast mettall, which staf was strongast, and which berar could best defend his maisteris pre-eminence; and that thare should be no superioritie in that behalf, to the ground gois boyth the croces. and then begane no litill fray, but yitt a meary game; for rockettis war rent, typpetis war torne, crounis war knapped,[ ] and syd gounis mycht have bene sein wantonly wag from the one wall to the other: many of thame lacked beardis, and that was the more pitie; and tharefore could not bukkill other by the byrse, as[ ] bold men wold haif doune. butt fy on the jackmen that did nott thare dewitie; for had the one parte of thame reacontered the other, then had all gone rycht. but the sanctuarye, we suppose, saved the lyves of many. how mearelye[ ] that ever this be writtin, it was bitter bowrding[ ] to the cardinall and his courte. it was more then irregularitie; yea, it mycht weall have bene judged lease majestie to the sone of perdition, the papes awin persone; and yitt the other in his foly, as proud as a packoke, wold lett the cardinall know that he was a bischop when the other was butt betoun, befoir he gat abirbrothok.[ ] this inemitie was judged mortall, and without all hope of reconsiliatioun. butt the blood of the innocent servand of god buryed in oblivioun all that braggine and boast. for the archibischope of glasgw was the first unto whome the cardinall wraitt, signifeing unto him what was done, and earnestly craving of him, that he wold assist with his presence and counsall, how that such are ennemye unto thare estaite mycht be suppressed. and thareto was nott the other slow, but keapt tyme appointed, satt nixt to the cardinall, voted and subscrivit first in the ranck, and lay ower the east blok-house[ ] with the said cardinall, till the martyre of god was consumed by fyre. for this we man note, that as all thei beastis consented in harte to the slawchter of that innocent, so did thei approve it with thare presence, having the hole ordinance of the castell of sanctandrose bent towardis the place of executioun, which was ney to the said castell, reddy to have schote yf any wold have maid defence, or reskew to goddis servand. the maner of his accusatioun, process, and ansueris followis, as we have receaved the same frome the book of the martyres,[ ] which, woord by woord, we have hear inserted, and that becaus the said book, for the great price thairof, is rare to be had. [the condemnation of m. george wischeart, gentleman, who suffered martyrdome for the fayth of christ jesus, at saint andrewes in scotland, anno , marche ; with the articles objected against him, and his answeres to the same.[ ] with moste tender affection and unfayned hart consider, (gentle reader,) the uncharitable maner of the accusation of maister george wischart, made by the bloudye enemies of christes fayth. note also the articles whereof he was accused, by order digested, and his meeke answeares, so farre as he had leave and leysure to speake. finally, ponder with no dissemblyng spirite the furious rage, and tragicall cruelnes of the malignant churche, in persecuting of this blessed man of god; and, of the contrarye, his humble, pacient, and most godly answeares, made to them sodaynely without al feare, not having respect to their glorious manasinges and boysterous threates, but charitably and without stop answearing: not movyng his countenance, nor changing his visage, as in his accusation hereafter folowyng manifestly shal appeare.] upone the last of februare, was send to the preason, quhare the servand of god lay, the deane of the toune, by the commandiment of the cardinall and his wicked counsall, and thai summoned the said maister george, that he should upoun the morne following appeir befoir the judge, then and thare to give accompt of his seditious and hereticall doctrine. to whome the said maister george ansuered, "what needith, (said he,) my lord cardinall to summound me to ansuere for my doctrine oppinlie befoir him, under whose power and dominioun i am thus straitlie bound in irnes. may not my lord compell me to ansuer to his extorte power? or belevith he that i am unprovided to rander accompt of my doctrine? to manifest your selves what men ye ar, it is weall done that ye keapt your old ceremonyes and constitutions maid by men." upoun the nixt morne, my lord cardinall caused his servandis to address thame selves in thare most warlyk array, with jack, knapscall, splent, speir, and axe, more semyng for the war, then for the preaching of the trew word of god. and when these armed campionis, marching in warlyk ordour, had conveyed the bischoppis unto the abbay church, incontinentlye thei sent for maistor george, who was conveyed unto the said churche by the capitane of the castell, and the nomber of ane hundreth men, addressed in maner foirsaid, lyik a lambe led thei him to sacrifice. as he entered in at the abbay church doore, there was a poore man lying vexed with great infirmities, asking of his almouse, to whome he flang his purse. and when he came befoir the cardinall, by and by the suppriour of the abbay, called dene johne wynreme,[ ] stoode up in the pulpete, and maid a sermon to all the congregatioun there then assembled, taking his mater out of the xiij chaptour of matthew; whose sermon was devided into four principall partes. the first was, a schorte and breaf declaratioun of the evangelist. the secound, of the interpretatioun of the good seid; and becaus he called the word of god the good seid, and heresye the evill seid, he declaired what heresye wes, and how it should be knowin. [sn: bona hÆreseos definitio.] he defyned it on this maner: "heresye is a fals opinioun, defended with pertinacie, cleirlye repugning to the word of god." the third parte of his sermoun was, the caus of heresye within that realme, and all other realmes. "the caus of heresie, (quod he,) is the ignorance of thame which have the cure of menis saules, to whome it necessarelie belongeth to have the trew understanding of the word of god, that thei may be able to wyn agane the fals doctouris of heresyes, with the sword of the spreat, which is the word of god; and not only to wyne agane, bot also to owircum:--as saith[ ] paule, 'a bischope most be faltles, as becumith the minister of god, not stubburne, not angrie, no drunkard, no feghtar, not gevin to filthy lucre; but harberous, one that loveth goodnes, sober mynded, rychteous, holy, temperat, and such as cleaveth unto the trew word of the doctrine, that he may be able to exhorte with holsome learning, and to improve that which thei say against him.'" the fourte parte of his sermon was, how heresyes should be knowin. "heresyes (quod he) be knawin on this maner: as the goldsmyth knowith the fyne gold frome the unperfite, by the towch stone, so lyikwyise may we know heresye by the undowbted towch stone, that is, the trew, syncere, and undefyled worde of god." at the last, he added, "that heretikis should he putt down in this present lyef: to the which propositioun the gospell appeired to repunge whilk he entreated of, 'lett thame boith grow unto the harvist:' the harvest is the end of the world; nevertheles, he affirmed, that thei should be putt down by the civile magistrat and law." and when he ended his sermone, incontinent thei caused maister george to ascend into the pulpet, there to heir his accusatioun and articles; for rycht against him stood up one of the fedd flok, a monstere,[ ] johnne lawder, ladin full of cursingis, writtin in paper, of the which he took out a roll boyth long and also full of cursingis,[ ] threatnynges, maledictionis, and wordis of devillesh spyte and malice, saying to the innocent maister george so many cruell and abhominable wordis, and hit him so spytfullie with the popis thunder, that the ignorant people dreded least the earth then wold have swallowed him up qwick. nochtwythstanding, he stood still with great patience hearing thare sayingis, not ones moving or changeing his countenance. when that this fedd sow had red throwghout all his lying minasingis, his face runnyng doune with sweat, and frothing at the mouth lyik ane bayre, he[ ] spate at maister george his face, saying, "what ansuerist thow to these sayingis, thow runnigat, tratour, theef, which we have dewlye proved by sufficient witnes against thee." maister george hearing this, satt doune upoun his kneis in the pulpete, making his prayer to god. when he had ended his prayer, sweitlye and christianelie he answered to thame all in this maner. maister george his oratioun. "many and horrible sayingis unto me, a christiane man, many wordis abhominable for to hear, ye haif spokin heir this day, which not only to teach, but also to think, i thowght it ever great abhominatioun. wharefore, i pray your discretionis quietlie to hear me, that ye may know what war my sayingis, and the maner of my doctrin. this my petitioun, my lordis, i desyre to be heard for three causes: the first is, becaus throw preaching of the word of god, his glorie is maid manifest: it is ressonabill tharefoir, for the avanceing of the glorie of god, that ye heare me teaching treulye the pure and syncere worde of god, without any dissimulatioun. the second reassone is, becaus that your helth springeth of the worde of god, for he workith all thing by his word: it war tharefoir ane unrychteous thing, yf ye should stope your earis from me teiching trewlye the word of god. the thrid reason is, becaus your doctrine speaketh furth many pestilentious,[ ] blasphemous, and abhominable wordis, not cuming by the inspiratioun of god, bot of the devill, on[ ] no less pearrell then my lyif: it is just tharefoir, and ressonable, your discreationis to know what my wordis and doctrine are, and what i have ever tawght in my tyme in this realme, that i perish not injustlye, to the great perrell of your soulles. wharfoir, boyth for the glorie and honour of god, your awin health, and savegard of my lyef, i beseik your discretionis to hear me, and in the meantyme i sall recyte my doctrin without any cullour. first, and cheiflie, since the tyme i came into this realme, i tawght nothing but the ten commandimentis of god, the twelf articles of the fayth, and the prayer of the lord, in the mother toung. moirovir, in dundy, i tawcht the epistill of sanct paule to the romanes; and i shall schaw your discretionis faythfullie what fassion and maner i used when i tawcht, without any humane dread, so that your discretionis give me your earis benevolent and attent." suddanlie then, with ane heycht voce,[ ] cryed the accusare, the fed sow, "thow heretike, runnigate, tratour, and theif, it was not lauchfull for thee to preach. thow hes tackin the power at thyne awin hand, without any autoritie of the church. we forthink that thow hes bene a preachar so long." then said all the hole congregatioun of the prelattis, with thare complices, these woordis, "yf we give him licience to preach, he is so craftie, and in holy scriptures so exercised, that he will perswaid the people to his opinioun, and rase them against us." maister george, seing thare maliciouse and wicked intent, appealed [from the lord cardinall to the lord governour, as[ ]] to ane indifferent and equall judge.[ ] to whome the accusare, johne lauder foirsaid, with hoggish voce answered, "is not my lord cardinall the secund persone within this realme, chancellar of scotland, archibischope of sanctandross, bischope of meropose, commendatour of abirbrothok, _legatus natus, legatus a latere_?" and so reciting as many titilles of his unworthy honouris[ ] as wold have lodin a schip, much sonare ane asse; "is not he, (quod johnne lauder,) ane equall judge apparantlye to thee? whome other desyrest thow to be thy judge?" to whome this humble man answered, saying, "i refuise not my lord cardinall, but i desyre the word of god to be my judge, and the temporall estate, with some of your lordschippis myne auditoures; becaus i am hear my lord governouris presonar." whareupone the pridefull and scornefull people that stood by, mocked him, saying, "suche man, such judge," speaking seditious and reprochfull wordis aganis the governour, and other the nobles, meanyng thame also to be heretykis. and incontinent, without all delay, thei wold have gevin sentence upoun maister george, and that without farther process, had not certane men thare counselled my lord cardinall to reid agane the articles, and to heir his ansueris thareupoun, that the people mycht nott complaine of his wrongfull condemnatioun. and schortlie for to declair, these war the articles following, with his ansueris, as far as thei wold give him leave to speak; for when he intended to mitigate thare lesingis, and schaw the maner of his doctrine, by and by thei stoped his mouth with ane other article. the first article. thow fals heretyk, runiagate, tratour, and theif, deceavar of the people, dispysest the holy churches, and in lyik case contemnest my lord governouris authoritie. and this we know for suyrtie, that when thow preached in dundye, and was charged be my lord governouris authoritie to desist, nevertheles thow woldest not obey, but persevered in the same. and tharefoir the bischope of brechin curssed thee,[ ] and delivered thee into the devillis handis, and gave thee in commandiment that thow souldest preach no more: yitt nochtwythstanding, thow didest continew obstinatlye. the ansuer. my lordis, i have red in the actes of the apostles, that it is not lauchfull, for the threattis and minacinges of men, to desist from the preaching of the evangell.[ ] tharefoir it is writtin, "we shall rather obey god then men." i have also red [in] the propheit malachie, "i shall curse your blissinges, and bliss your cursingis, sayeis the lord:" beleving firmelie, that he wold turne your cursingis into blissinges. the secund article. thow fals heretike did say, that a preast standing at the altare saying masse, was lyik a fox wagging his taill in julie. the ansuer. my lordis, i said not so. these war my sayinges: the moving of the body outward, without the inward moving of the harte, is nocht ellis bott the playing of ane ape, and nott the trew serving of god; for god is a secreit searchare of menis hartes: tharefoir, who will trewlye adorne and honour god, he must in spreit and veritie honour him. then the accusatour stopped his mouth with ane other article. the thrid article. thow fals heretik preachest aganis the sacramentis, saying, that thare ar not sevin sacramentis. the answer. my lordis, if it[ ] be your pleasuris, i tawght never of the nomber of the sacramentis, whither thei war sevin, or ane ellevin. so many as ar instituted by christ, and ar schawin to us by the evangell, i professe opinlie. except it be the word of god, i dar affirme nothing. the fourte article. thow fals heretike hes oppinlie tawght, that auriculare confessioun is not a blessed sacrament; and thow sayest, that we should only confess us to god, and to no preast. the answer. my lordis, i say, that auriculare confessioun, seing that it hath no promeis of the evangell,[ ] tharefoir it can not be a sacrament. of the confessioun to be maid to god, thare ar many testimonyes in scripture; as when david sayeth, "i thowght that i wold knowledge my iniquitie against my self unto the lord; and he forgave the trespasses[ ] of my synnes." heir, confessioun signifieth the secreat knowledge of our synnes befoir god: when i exhorted the people on this maner, i reproved no maner of confessioun. and farther, sanct james sayith, "knowledge your synnes[ ] one to ane uther, and so lett yow to have peace amonge your selfes." heir the apostle meaneth nothing of auriculare confessioun, but that we should acknawledge and confesse our selfis to be synneris befoir our brethrene, and befoir the world, and not to esteame our selfis as the gray freiris dois, thinking thame selfis allreddy purgeid.[ ] when that he had said these wordis, the horned bischopis and thare complices cryed, and girned[ ] with thare teith, saying, "see ye not what colouris he hath in his speich, that he may begile us, and seduce us to his opinioun." the fyft article. thow heretike didest say openlye, that it was necessarie to everie man to know and understand his baptisme, and that it was contrarie to generall counsallis, and the estaites of holy churche. the answer. my lordis, i beleve thare be none so unwyse hear, that will mak merchandise with ane frenche man, or any other unknawin stranger, except he know and understand first the conditioun or promeise maid by the french man or stranger. so lyikwyse i wold that we understood what thing we promeis in the name of the infante unto god in baptisme: for this caus, i beleve, ye have confirmatioun. then said maister bleiter,[ ] chaplen, that he had the devill within him, and the spreit of errour. then answered him a cheild,[ ] saying, "the devill cane not speik such wordis as yonder man doith speik." the saxt article. thow fals heretike, tratour, and theif, thow saidest that the sacrament of the altare was but a pece of bread, backin upon the asches, and no other thing elles; and all that is thare done, is but a superstitious ryte aganis the commandiment of god. the answer. oh lord god! so manifest lyes and blasphemyes the scripture doith not so teach yow. as concernyng the sacrament of the altare, (my lordis,) i never tawght any thing against the scripture, the which i shall, (by goddis grace,) mak manifest this day, i being ready tharefore to suffer death. the lauchfull use of the sacrament is most acceptable unto god: but the great abuse of it is verray detestable unto him. but what occasioun thei have to say such wordis of me, i sall schortlie schaw your lordschippes. i once chanced to meitt with a jew, when i was sailling upoun the watter of rhene.[ ] i did inqueir of him, what was the caus of his pertinacie, that he did not beleve that the trew messias was come, considering that thei had sene all the prophecyes, which war speking of him, to be fulfilled: moreover, the prophecyes tackin away, and the scepter of juda. by many other testimonyes of the scriptour, i vanquest him, and approved that messias was come, the which thei called jesus of nazareth. this jew answered agane unto me, "when messias cumith, he shall restore all thingis, and he sall not abrogate the law, which was gevin to our fatheris, as ye do. for why? we see the poore almost perish throw hunger amang yow, yitt yow ar nott moved with pitie towardis thame; butt among us jewes, thowght we be puir, thare ar no beggares found. secundarly, it is forbiddin by the law, to faine any kynd of imagrie of thingis in heavin above, or in the erth beneth, or in the scy under the erth; but one god only to honour; but your sanctuaries and churches ar full of idolles. thridly, a peice of braid backin upone the aschis, ye adore and wirschip, and say, that it is your god." i have rehersed hear but the sayingis of the jew,[ ] which i never affirmed to be trew. then the bischoppis schooke thare headis, and spitted into the earth: and what he ment in this mater farther, thei wold nott heare.[ ] the sevint article. thow fals heretike did say, that extreme unctioun was not a sacrament. the answer. my lord, forsuyth, i never tawght any thing of extreme unctioun in my doctrine, whetther it war a sacrament or no. the eyght article. thow fals heretike saidest that the holy watter is no sa good as wasche, and suche lyik. thow contempnest conjuring, and sayest, that holy churches cursing availled nott. the answere. my lordis, as for holy watter, what strenth it is of, i tawght never in my doctrine. conjuringes and exorzismes, yf thei war conformable to the word of god, i wold commend thame. but in so far as thei ar not conformeable to the commandiment and worde of god, i reprove thame. the nynt article. thow fals heretike and runnagate hast said, that everie layman is a preast; and such lyik thow sayest, that the pope hath no more power then any other man. the answere. my lordis, i tawght nothing but the worde of god. i remember that i have red in some places in sanct johnne and sanct petir, of the which one sayeth, "he hath made us kingis and preastis;" the other sayeth, "he hath made us the kinglye preasthode:" wharefoir, i have affirmed, any man being cuning and perfite in the word of god, and the trew faith of jesus christ, to have his power gevin him frome god, and not by the power or violence of men, but by the vertew of the word of god, the which word is called the power of god, as witnesseth sanct paule evidentlie ynewgh. and agane, i say, any unlearned man, and not exercised in the woord of god, nor yit constant in his faith, whatsoever estaite or order he be of; i say, he hath no power to bynd or loose, seing he wanteth the instrument by the which he bindeth or looseth, that is to say, the word of god. after that he had said these wordis, all the bischoppes lawghed, and mocked him. when that he beheld thare lawghing, "lawgh ye, (sayeth he,) my lordis? thowght that these my sayingis appeir scornefull and worthy of derisioun to your lordschippis, nevertheless thei ar verray weightye to me, and of a great valow; becaus that thei stand not only upon my lyif, bot also the honour and glorie of god." in the meantyme many godly men, beholding the wodness and great crueltie of the bischoppis, and the invincible patience of the said maister george, did greatlie mourne and lament. the tent article. thow fals heretike saidst, that a man hath no free will; but is lyik to the stoickis, which say, that it is nott in man's will to do any thing, but that all concupiscence and desyre cumith of god, of whatsoever kynd it be of. the answer. my lordis, i said nott so, trewlie: i say, that as many as beleve in christ firmelie, unto thame is gevin libertie, conformable to the saying of sanct johnne, "if the sone mak yow free, then shall ye verelie be free." of the contrarie, as many as beleve not in christ jesus, thei ar bound servandis of synne: "he that synneth is bound to synne." the ellevint article. thow fals heretike sayest, it is as lawfull to eitt flesche upoun fryday, as on sonday. the answere. pleasith it your lordschippis, i have redd in the epistles of sanct paule, "that who is cleane, unto thame all thingis is cleane." of the contrarie, "to the filthie men, all thingis ar uncleane." a faithfull man, cleane and holy, sanctifieth by the worde the creature of god; but the creature maketh no man acceptable unto god: so that a creature may not sanctifie any impure and unfaithfull man. but to the faythfull man, all thingis ar sanctifeid, by the prayer of the worde of god. after these sayingis of maister george, then said all the bischoppes, with thare complices, "quhat nedeth us any witnesse against him: hath he nott oppinlie hear spokin blasphemie?" the twelth article. thow fals heretike doest say, that we should nott pray to sanctes, butt to god onlye: say whetther thow hast said this or no: say schortlye. the answer. for the weaknes and the infirmitie of the heararis, (he said,) without doubt plainelie, that sanctis should not be honored nor incalled upone. my lordis, (said he,) thare ar two thingis worthy of note: the one is certane, and the other uncertane. it is found plainlie and certane in scriptures, that we should wirschipe and honour one god, according to the saying of the first commandiment, "thow sall onlie wirschip and honour thy lord god with all thy harte." but as for praying to and honoring of sanctes, thare is great dowbt amang many, whether thei hear or no invocatioun maid unto thame. tharefoir, i exhorted all men equallye in my doctrine, that thei should laif the unsure way, and follow the way which was taught us by our maister christ: he is onlye our mediatour, and maketh intercessioun for us to god his father: he is the doore, by which we must enter in: he that entereth not in by this doore, but clymeth ane other way, is a theif and a murtherare: he is the veritie and lyef: he that goeth out of this way, thare is no dowbt but he shall fall into the myre; yea, verrelye, he is fallin in to it all readdy. this is the fassioun of my doctrine, the which i have ever followed. verrelie that which i have heard and redd in the woorde of god, i taught opinelye and in no cornerris, and now ye shall witness the same, yf your lordschippis will hear me: except it stand by the worde of god, i dar nott be so bold to affirme any thing. these sayingis he rehersed diverse tymes. the xiii article. thow fals heretike has preached plainelie, saying, that thare is no purgatorie, and that it is a fayned thing, any man, after this lyfe, to be punished in purgatorie. the answere. my lordis, as i haif oftentymes said heirtofoir, without expresse witnes and testimonye of scripture, i dar affirme nothing. i have oft and divers tymes redd ower the bible, and yitt such a terme fand i never, nor yet any place of scripture applicable thairunto. tharefore, i was eschamed ever to teach of that thing, which i could nott fynd in scripture. then said he to maister johnne lauder, his accusare, "yf yow have any testimonye of the scripture, by the which ye may prove any such place, schew it now befoir this auditoure."[ ] but that dolt had not a worde to say for him self, but was as doume as a bitle[ ] in that mater. the xiiii article. thow fals heretyke hast taught plainelie against the vowis of monkis, freiris, nonnes, and preastis, saying, that whosoever was bound to such lyik vowis, thei vowed thame selves to the estate of damnatioun: moreover, that it was lauchfull for preastis to marye wyffis, and not to leve sole. the answer. of suth, my lordis, i have redd in the evangell, that thare ar three kynd of chast men: some ar gelded frome thare motheris wombe; some ar gelded by men; and some have gelded thame selfis for the kingdome of heavinis saik: verrelye, i say, these men ar blessed by the scripture of god. but as many as have nott the gyft of chastitie, nor yitt for the evangell have nott owercome the concupiscence of the flesche, and have vowed chastitie, ye have experience, althowght i suld hold my toung,[ ] to what inconvenience thei have vowed thame selfis. when he had said these wordis, thei were all doume,[ ] thinking better to have ten concubynes, then one maryed wyfe. the xv article. thow fals heretike and runnagate, sayest, that thow will not obey our generall nor principale[ ] councellis. the answer. my lordis, what your generall counsallis ar, i know not: i was never exercised in thame; butt to the pure woord of god i gave my laubouris. read hear your generall counsallis, or ellis give me a book, whairin thei ar conteaned, that i may reid thame: yf that thei aggree with the word of god, i will not disagree. [sn: this was freir scot.] then the ravineyng wolves turned into madnes,[ ] and said, "whareunto lett we him speak any further? reid furth the rest of the articles, and stay not upoun thame." amonges these cruell tygres, thare was one fals hypocryte, a seducer of the people, called johnne scot,[ ] standing behynd johnne lauderis back, hasting him to reid the rest of the articles, and nott to tary upone his wittie and godlye ansueris; "for we may not abyde thame, (quod he,) no more then the devill may abyde the sign of the croce, when it is named." the xvi article. thow heretike sayest, that it is vane to buyld to the honour of god costlie churches, seing that god remaneth not in churches made by menis handis, nor yit can god be in so litill space, as betuix the preastis handis. the answer. my lordis, salomon sayith, "yf that the heavin of heavinis can not comprehend thee, how much less this house that i have buylded." and job consenteth to the same sentence, saying, "seing that he is heychtar then the heavins, tharefor what can thow buyld unto him? he is deapar then the hell, then how sall thow know him? he is longar then the earth, and breadar then the sea." so that god can nott be comprehended into one space, becaus that he is infinite. these sayingis, nochtwithstanding, i said never that churches should be destroyed; bot of the contrarie, i affirmed ever, that churches should be susteaned and upholdin, that the people should be congregat in thame to hear the worde of god preached. moreover, wharesoever is the trew preaching of the word of god, and the lauchfull use of the sacramentes, undoubtedlye thare is god him self. so that both these sayingis ar trew together: god can nott be comprehended into any one place: and, "wharesoever thare ar two or three gathered in his name, thare is he present in the myddest of thame." then said he to his accusar, "yf thow thinkest any otherwyise then i say, schaw furth thy reasonis befoir this auditorie." then he, without all reassone, was dome,[ ] and could not answer a worde. the xvii article. thow fals heretike contemnest fasting, and sayest, thow shouldest not fast. the answer. my lordis, i find that fasting is commended in the scripture; tharefor i war a sclanderar of the gospell, yf i contemned fasting. and not so onlye, but i have learned by experience, that fasting is good for the health and conservatioun of the body. but god knowith onlye who fastith the trew fast. the xviii article. thow fals heretike hes preached opinlie, saying, that the soulles of men shall sleip to the latter day of judgement, and shall not obtene lyfe immortale untill that day. the answer. god, full of mercy and goodnes, forgeve thame that sayeth such thingis of me. i wote and know suirelie by the word of god, that he which hath begone to have the faith of jesus christ, and belevith fermelie in him, i know suirelie, that the sawll of that man shall never sleape, bot ever shall leve ane immortall lyef; the which lyef, frome day to day, is renewed in grace and augmented; nor yitt shall ever perish, or have ane end, but shall ever leve immortall with christ thare heid: to the which lyfe all that beleve in him shall come, and rest in eternall glorie. amen. * * * * * when that the bischoppis, with thare complices, had accused this innocent man, in maner and forme afoirsaid, incontinentlie thei condemned him to be brynt as are heretike, not having respect to his godly answeris and trew reassones which he alledged, nor yitt to thare awin consciences, thinking verelye, that thei should do to god good sacrifice, conformable to the sayingis of jesus christ in the gospell of sanct johnne, chapter : "thei shall excommunicat yow; yea, and the tyme shall come, that he which killeth yow shall think that he hath done to god good service." the prayer of maister george. "o immortall god! how long sall thow suffer the woodnes and great crudelitie of the ungodlie to exercise thare furie upoun thy servandes, which do further thy word in this world, seing thei desyre to do the contrarie, that is, to chok and destroy thy trew doctrin and veritie, by the which thow hast schewed thee unto the world, which was all drouned in blyndness and mysknowledge of thy name. o lord, we know suirlie, that thy trew servandes most neidis suffer, for thy names saik, persecutioun, afflictioun, and troubles in this present lyef, which is but a schaddow, as thow hast schewed to us, by thy propheittis and apostles. but yitt we desyre thee, (mercyfull father,) that thow conserve, defend, and help thy congregatioun, which thow hast chosen befoir the begynning of the world, and give thame thy grace to hear thy word, and to be thy trew servandis in this present lyef." then, by and by, thei caused the commoun people to remove,[ ] whose desyre was alwyise to hear that innocent speak. and the sonis of darknes pronunced thare sentence definitive, not having respect to the judgement of god. when all this was done and said, my lord cardinall caused his tormentares[ ] to pas agane with the meke lambe unto the castell, untill such tyme the fyre was maid reddy. when he was come into the castell, then thare came two gray feindis, freir scott and his mate, saying, "schir, ye must maik your confessioun unto us." he answered, and said, "i will mak no confessioun unto yow. go fetch me yonder man that preached this day, and i will maik my confessioun unto him." then thei sent for the suppriour of the abbay,[ ] who came to him with all dilegence; but what he said in this confessioun, i can not schaw.[ ] when the fyre was maid reddy, and the gallowse, at the west parte of the castell, neir to the priorie, my lord cardinall, dreading that maister george should have bene takin away by his freindis, tharefoir he commanded to bend all the ordinance of the castell richit against the place of executioun, and commanded all his gunnaris to be readdy, and stand besyde thare gunnes, unto such tyme as he war burned. all this being done, thei bound maister george's handis behind his back, and led him furth with thare soldeouris, from the castell, to the place of thare cruell and wicked executioun. as he came furth of the castell gate, thare mett him certane beggeris, asking of his almes, for goddis saik. to whome he answered, "i want my handis, wharewith i wont to geve yow almes. but the mercyfull lord, of his benignitie and aboundand grace, that fedith all men, votschafe to geve yow necessaries, boith unto your bodyes and soules." then afterward mett him two fals feindis, (i should say, freiris,) saying, "maister george, pray to our lady, that sche may be a mediatrix for yow to hir sone." to whome he answered meiklie, "cease: tempt me not, my brethrene." after this, he was led to the fyre, with a rope about his neck, and a chaine of irne about his myddill. when that he came to the fyre, he sat doun upoun his knees, and rose agane; and thrise he said these wordis, "o thow saviour of the warld, have mercy upon me: father of heavin, i commend my spreit into thy holy handis." when he had maid this prayer, he turned him to the people, and said these wordis: "i beseik yow, christiane brethrene and sisteris, that ye be nott offended att the word of god, for the afflictioun and tormentis which ye see already prepared for me. but i exhorte yow, that ye love the word of god, your salvatioun, and suffer patientlie, and with a confortable harte, for the wordis saik, which is your undoubted salvatioun and everlesting conforte. moirover, i pray yow, shew my brethrene and sisteris, which have heard me oft befoir, that thei cease nott nor leve of to learne the word of god, which i taught unto thame, after the grace gevin unto me, for no persequutionis nor trubles in this world, which lestith nott. and schaw unto thame, that my doctrine was no wyffes fables, after the constitutions maid by men; and yf i had taught menis doctrin, i had gottin grettar thankis by men. bot for the wordis saik, and trew evangell, which was gevin to me by the grace of god, i suffer this day by men, not sorowfullie, but with a glaid harte and mynd. for this caus i was sent, that i should suffer this fyre for christis saik. considder and behold my visage, ye sall not see me change my cullour. this gryme fyre i fear nott; and so i pray yow for to do, yf that any persecutioun come unto yow for the wordis saik; and nott to fear thame that slay the body, and afterwarte have no power to slay the saule. some have said of me, that i taught, that the saule of man should sleap untill the last day; but i know suirlie, and my faith is such, that my saule sail sowp[ ] with my saviour this nycht, or it be sex houris, for whome i suffer this." then he prayed for thame which accused him, saying, "i beseik the father of heavin to forgive thame that have of any ignorance, or ellis of any evill mynd, forged lyes upone me; i forgeve thame with all myne hearte: i beseik christ to forgeve thame that have condemned me to death this day ignorantlye." and last of all, he said to the people on this maner, "i beseik yow, brethrene and sisteris, to exhorte your prelattis to the learnyng of the word of god, that thei at the least may be eschamed to do evill, and learne to do good; and yf thei will not converte thame selves frome thare wicked errour, thare shall hastelie come upone thame the wrath of god,[ ] which thei sail not eschew." many faythfull wordis said he in the meane tyme, takin no head or cair of the cruell tormentis which war then prepared for him. then, last of all, the hangman, that was his tormentour, sat doune upoun his kneis, and said, "schir, i pray yow, forgive me, for i am nott guiltie of your death." to whome he answered, "come hither to me." when he was come to him, he kissed his cheik, and said, "lo! hear is a tokin that i forgeve thee: my harte, do thyn office." and then by and by, he was putt upoun the gibbet, and hanged, and there brynt to poulder.[ ] when that the people beheld the great tormenting of that innocent, thei mycht not withhold frome piteous morning and complaining of the innocent lambes slawchter.[ ] * * * * * [sn: the worldly strenth of the cardinall of scotland.] after the death of this blissed martyre of god, begane the people, in plaine speaking, to dampne and detest the crueltie that was used. yea, men of great byrth, estimatioun, and honour, at open tables avowed, that the blood of the said maister george should be revenged, or ellis thei should cost lyef for lyef. amonges whome johnne leslye,[ ] brother to the erle of rothess, was the cheaf; for he, in all cumpanyes, spared not to say, "that same whingar, (schawin furth his dager,) and that same hand, should be preastis to the cardinall." these bruytis came to the cardinalles earis; but he thought him self stout yneuch for all scotland; for in babylon, that is, in his new blok-house, he was suyre, as he thought; and upoun the feildis, he was able to matche all his ennemies. and to wryte the trewth, the most parte of the nobilitie of scotland had ether gevin unto him thare bandis of manrent, or ellis war in confideracye, and promessed amitie with him. he onlye feared thame in whose handis god did deliver him, and for thame had he laid his neattis so secreatlie, (as that he maid a full compt,) that thare feit could not eschap, as we shall after heare; and something of his formare practises we man reacompt. after the pasche he came to edinburgh, to hold the seinze,[ ] (as the papistes terme thare unhappy assemblie of baallis schaven sorte.) it was bruyted that something was purposed against him, at that tyme, by the erle of anguss and his freindis, whome he mortally hated, and whose destructioun he sought. but it failled, and so returned he to his strenth; yea, to his god and only conforte, asweill in heavin as in earth. and thare he remaned without all fear of death, promissing unto him self no less pleasur, nor did the riche man, of whome mentioun is maid by our maister in the evangell; for he did nott onlie rejois and say, "eitt and be glade, my saule, for thow hast great riches laid up in store for many dayis;" [sn: the braggyn of the cardinall a litle befoir his death.] bot also he said, "tush, a feg for the fead, and a buttoun for the braggyne of all the heretikis and thare assistance in scotland. is nott my lord governour myne? witness his eldast sone[ ] thare pledge at my table? have i not the quene at my awin devotioun? (he ment of the mother to mary that now myschevouslie regnes.) is not france my freind, and i freind to france? what danger should i fear?" and thus, in vanitie, the carnall cardinall delyted him self a lytill befoir his death. but yit he had devised to have cutt of such as he thought mycht cummer him; for he had appointed the haill gentilmen of fyff to have mett him at falkland, the mononday after that he was slane upoun the setterday. [sn: the treasoun of the cardinall.] his treasonable purpoise was nott understand but by his secreat counsall; and it was this: that normond leslie, schireff of fyff,[ ] and appearing air to his father, the erle of rothess; the said johnne leslye, father-brother to normound; the lardis of grange, eldar and youngar; schir james lermound of darsye,[ ] and provest of sanctandrose; and the faythfull lard of raith;[ ] should eyther have bene slane, or ellis tane, and after to have bene used at his pleasur. this interprise was disclosed after his slawchtter, partlye by letteris and memorialles found in his chalmer, butt playnlie affirmed by suche as war of the consall. many purposes war devised, how that wicked man mycht have bene tackin away. but all failled, till fryday, the xxviij of maij, anno , when the foirsaid normound came at nycht to sanctandross; williame kirkcaldye of grange youngar was in the toune befoir, awaitting upoun the purpoise; last came johnne leslye foirsaid, who was most suspected. what conclusion thei took that nycht, it was nott knawin, butt by the ischew which followed. [sn: how the cardinall was occupyed the nycht befoir that the mornyng he was slaine.] but airlie upoun the setterday, in the mornyng, the . of maij, war thei in syndree cumpanyes in the abbay kirk-yard, not far distant frome the castell. first, the yettis being oppin, and the draw-brig lettin doun, for receaving of lyme and stanes, and other thingis necessar for buylding, (for babylon was almost finished,)--first, we say, assayed williame kirkcaldy of grange youngar, and with him sex personis, and gottin enteress, held purpose with the portare, "yf my lord was walking?" who ansuered, "no." (and so it was in dead; for he had bene busy at his comptis with maistres marioun ogilbye[ ] that nycht, who was espyed to departe frome him by the previe posterne that morning; and tharefor qwyetness, after the reuillis of phisick, and a morne sleap[ ] was requisite for my lord.) whill the said williame and the portar talked, and his servandis maid thame to look the work and the workemen, approched normound leslye with his company; and becaus thei war in no great nomber, thei easilie gat entress. thei address thame to the myddest of the close, and immediatlie came johnne leslye, somewhat rudlye, and four personis with him. the portar, fearing, wold have drawin the brig; but the said johnne, being entered thairon, stayed, and lap in. and whill the portar maid him for defence, his head was brokin, the keyis tackin frome him, and he castin in the fowsea;[ ] and so the place was seased. the schowt arises:[ ] the workemen, to the nomber of mo then a hundreth, ran of the wallis, and war without hurte put furth at the wicked yett.[ ] the first thing that ever was done, williame kirkcaldye took the garde of the prevey posterne, fearing that the fox should have eschaped. then go the rest to the gentilmenis chalmeris, and without violence done to any man, thei put mo then fyftie personis to the yett: the nomber that interprised and did this, was but sextein personis. the cardinall, awalkned with the schouttis, asked from his windo, what ment that noyse? it was answered, that normound leslye had tackin his castell. which understand, he ran to the posterne; but perceaving the passage to be keapt without, he returned qwicklye to his chalmer, took his twahanded sword, and garte his chalmer child cast kystes, and other impedimentis to the doore. [sn: the cardinallis demand.] in this meane tyme came johnne leslye unto it, and biddis open. the cardinall askyne, "who calles?" he answeris, "my name is leslye." he re-demandis, "is that normond?" the other sayis, "nay; my name is johnne." "i will have normound," sayis the cardinall; "for he is my friend."[ ] "content your self with such as ar hear; for other shall ye gett nane." thare war with the said johnne, james melven,[ ] a man familiarlie acquented with maister george wisharte, and petir caremichaell,[ ] a stout gentilman. in this meanetyme, whill thei force at the doore, the cardinall hydis a box of gold under coallis that war laide in a secreat cornar. at lenth he asked, "will ye save my lyef?" the said johnne answered, "it may be that we will." "nay," sayis the cardinall, "swear unto me by goddis woundis, and i will open unto yow." then answered the said johnne, "it that was said, is unsaid;" and so cryed, "fyre, fyre;" (for the doore was verray stark;) and so was brought ane chymlay full of burnyng coallis. which perceaved, the cardinall or his chalmer child, (it is uncertane,) opened the doore, and the cardinall satt doune in a chyre, and cryed, [sn: the cardinallis confessioun.] "i am a preast; i am a preast: ye will nott slay me." the said johnne leslye, (according to his formar vowes,) strook him first anes or twyse, and so did the said petir. but james melven, (a man of nature most gentill and most modest,[ ]) perceaving thame boyth in cholere, withdrew thame, and said, "this worke and judgement of god, (althought it be secreit,) aught to be done with greattar gravitie;" and presenting unto him the point of the sweard, said, [sn: the godly fact and woordis of james melven.[ ]] "repent thee of thy formar wicked lyef, but especiallie of the schedding of the blood of that notable instrument of god, maister george wisharte, which albeit the flame of fyre consumed befoir men; yitt cryes it, a vengeance upoun thee, and we from god ar sent to revenge it: for heir, befoir my god, i protest, that nether the hetterent of thy persone, the luif of thy riches, nor the fear of any truble thow could have done to me in particulare, moved, nor movis me to stryk thee; but only becaus thow hast bein, and remanes ane obstinat ennemye against christ jesus and his holy evangell." and so he stroke him twyse or thrise trowght with a stog sweard; and so he fell, never word heard out of his mouth, but [sn: the cardinallis last woordis.] "i am a preast, i am a preast: fy, fy: all is gone."[ ] whill they war thus occupyed with the cardinall, the fray rises in the toune. the provest[ ] assembles the communitie, and cumis to the fowseis syd, crying, "what have ye done with my lord cardinall? whare is my lord cardinall? have ye slayne my lord cardinall? lett us see my lord cardinall?" thei that war within answered gentilye, "best it war unto yow to returne to your awin houssis; for the man ye call the cardinall has receaved his reward, and in his awin persone will truble the warld no more." but then more enraigedlye, thei cry, "we shall never departe till that we see him." and so was he brought to the east blok-house head, and schawen dead ower the wall to the faythless multitude, which wold not beleve bofoir it saw: how miserably lay david betoun, cairfull cardinall.[ ] and so thei departed, without _requiem æternam_, and _requiescant in pace_, song for his saule. now, becaus the wether was hote, (for it was in maij, as yo have heard,) and his funerallis could not suddandly be prepared, it was thowght best, to keap him frome styncking, to geve him great salt ynewcht, a cope of lead, and a nuk[ ] in the boddome of the sea-toore, (a place whare many of goddis childrene had bein empreasoncd befoir,) to await what exequeis his brethrene the bischoppes wold prepare for him.[ ] [sn: advertisment to the readar.] these thingis we wreat mearelie.[ ] but we wold, that the reader should observe goddis just judgementis, and how that he can deprehend the worldly wyse in thare awin wisdome, mak thare table to be a snare to trape thare awin feit, and thare awin presupposed strenth to be thare awin destructioun. these ar the workis of our god, wharby he wold admonish the tyrantis of this earth, that in the end he will be revenged of thare crueltye, what strenth so ever thei mack in the contrare. but such is the blyndnes of man, (as david speakis,) "that the posteritie does ever follow the footsteppes of thare wicked fatheris, and principallie in thare impietie;" for how litill differres the cruelty of that bastarde, that yitt is called bischope of sanctandrois,[ ] frome the crueltie of the formar, we will after heare. [sn: the bischope of sanctandrois was glaid, and yitt maid himself to be angree at the slauchter of the cardinall.] the death of this foirsaid tyrant was dolorous to the preastis, dolorous to the governour, most dolorous to the quene dowager;[ ] for in him perished faythfulnes to france, and the conforte to all gentilwemen, and especiallie to wantoun wedowis: his death most be revenged. to the courte agane repares the erle of anguss, and his brother schir george. laubour is maid for the abbacy of abirbrothok, and a grant was ones maid of the samyn, (in memorie whareof george dowglas,[ ] bastard sone to the said erle, is yet called postulat.) butt it was more proper, (think the hammyltonis,) for the governouris keching, nor for reward to the dowglasses. and yitt in esperance thairof, the saidis erle and george his brother war the first that voted, that the castell of sanctandrois should he beseiged. the bischope, to declair the zeall that he had to revenge the death of him that was his predecessour, (and yit for his wishe he wold nott haif had him leaving agane,) still blew the coallis. and first, he caused summound, then denunce accurssed, and then last, rebelles,[ ] not only the first interprisaris, but all such also as after did accumpany thame.[ ] and last of all, the seige was concluded, which begane in the end of august; (for the day thairof departed the soldeouris from edinburgh,) and continewed near to the end of januare. at what tyme, becaus thei had no other hope of wynnyng of it butt by hounger; and thairof also thei war dispared; for thei within had brockin throwght the east wall, and maid a plaine passage, by ane yron yett to the sea, which greatly releaved the besegeid, and abased the beseagearis; for then thei saw that thei could nott stope thame of victualles, onless that thei should be maisteris of the sea, and that thei clearlie understood thei could not be; for the engliss schippis had ones bein thare, and had browght williame kirkcaldy frome london, and with much difficultie, (becaus the said yett was nott then prepared,) and some loss of men, had randered him to the castell agane, and had tackin with thame to the courte of england, johnne lesly and maister henry balnavis, for perfyting of all contractes betuix thame and king harye, [sn: upon what conditionis king hary took the castell of sanctandrois in his protectioun.] who promissed to tak thame in his protectioun, upoun conditioun onlye, that thei should keape the governouris sone, my lord of errane,[ ] and stand freindis to the contract of mariage, whareof befoir we have made mentioun. these thingis clearly understand, (we say,) by the governour and his counsall, the preastis and the schavin sorte, thei conclude to make ane appointment, to the end, that under treuth thei mycht eyther gett the castell betrayed, or elles some principall men of the cumpany tackin at unwarres. in the which head was the abbot of dumfermling[ ] principall; and for that purpose had the lard of monquhany,[ ] (who was most familiar with those of the castell,) laubored at foote and hand, and proceaded so in his trafique, that from entress upoun daylyght at his pleasur, he gat licience to come upoun the nycht whensoever it pleased him. but god had nott appointed so many to be betrayed, albeit that he wold that thei should be punished, and that justlye, as heirafter we will hear. the headis of the coloured appointment war:-- . that thei should keap the castell of sanctandrois, ay and whill that the governour, and the authoritie of scotland, should gett unto thame ane sufficient absolutioun from the pape, (antichrist of rome,) for the slawchtter of the cardinall foirsaid. . that thei should deliver pledges for deliverie of that house, how sone the foirsaid absolutioun was delivered unto thame. . that thei, thare freindis, familiaris, servandes, and otheris to thame pertenyng, should never be persewed in the law, nor by the law,[ ] be the authoritie, for the slauchter foirsaid. but that thei should bruik[ ] commodities spirituall or temporall, whatsoever thei possessed befoir the said slauchter, evin as yf it had never bein committed. . that thei of the castell should keape the erle of errane,[ ] so long as thare pledges war keape.--and such lyik articles, liberall yneuch; for thei never mynded to keape word of thame, as the ischew did declaire. the appointment maid, all the godly war glaid; for some esperance[ ] thei had, that thairby goddis woord should somewhat bud, as in deid so it did. for johnne rowgh,[ ] (who sone after the cardinalles slawghter entered within the castell, and had continewed with thame the hole seige,) begane to preach in sanctandrois; and albeit he was nott the most learned, yit was his doctrin without corruptioun, and tharefoir weall lyiked of the people. at the pasche[ ] after, [sn: anno .] came to the castell of sanctandrois johnne knox, who, weareid of removing from place to place, be reassone of the persecutioun that came upoun him by this bischope of sanctandros, was determinat to have left scotland, and to have vesitid the schooles of germany, (of england then he had no pleasur, be reassone that the paipes name being suppressed, his lawes and corruptionis remaned in full vigour.) but becaus he had the cair of some gentilmenes childrene, whome certane yearis he had nurished in godlynes, thare fatheris solisted him to go to sanctandrois, that himself mycht have the benefite of the castell, and thare childrene the benefite of his doctrine; and so, (we say,) came he the tyme foirsaid to the said place, and, having in his cumpanye franciss dowglass of langnudrye, george his brother,[ ] and alexander cockburne, eldast sone then to the lard of ormestoun,[ ] begane to exercise thame after his accustomed maner. besydis thare grammare, and other humane authoris, he redd unto thame a catechisme, a compt whairof he caused thame geve publictlie in the parishe kirk of sanctandrois. he redd moreover unto thame the evangell of johnne, proceading whare he left at his departing from langnudrye, whare befoir his residence was; and that lecture he redd in the chapell, within the castell, at a certane hour. thei of the place, but especiallie maister henry balnaves and johne rowght, preachear, perceaving the manor of his doctrin, begane earnestlie to travaill with him, that he wold tack the preaching place upoun him. but he utterlie refuissed, alledgeing "that he wold nott ryne whare god had nott called him;" meanyng, that he wold do nothing without a lauchfull vocatioun. [sn: the first vocatioun by name of johne knox to preache.] whareupone thei prively amonges thame selfis advising, having with thame in counsall[ ] schir david lyndesay of the mont, thei concluded, that thei wold geve a charge to the said johnne, and that publictlie by the mouth of thare preachear. and so upoun a certane day, a sermone had of the electioun of ministeris, what power the congregatioun (how small that ever it was, passing the nomber of two or three) had above any man, in whome thei supposed and espyed the giftes of god to be, and how dangerous it was to refuise, and not to hear the voce of such as desyre to be instructed. these and other headis, (we say,) declaired, the said johnne rowght,[ ] prcachear, directed his wordis to the said johne knox, saying, "brother, ye shall nott be offended, albeit that i speak unto yow that which i have in charge, evin from all those that ar hear present, which is this: in the name of god, and of his sone jesus christ, and in the name of these that presentlie calles yow by my mouth, i charge yow, that ye refuise not this holy vocatioun, but that as ye tender the glorie of god, the encrease of christ his kingdome, the edificatioun of your brethrene, and the conforte of me, whome ye understand weill yneuch to be oppressed by the multitude of laubouris, that ye tack upoun yow the publict office and charge of preaching, evin as ye looke to avoid goddis heavye displeasur, and desyre that he shall multiplye his graces with yow." and in the end, he said to those that war present, "was not this your charge to me? and do ye not approve this vocatioun?" thei answered, "it was; and we approve it." whairat the said johnne[ ] abashed, byrst furth in moist abundand tearis, and withdrew him self to his chalmer. his conteanance and behaveour, fra that day till the day that he was compelled to present him self to the publict place of preaching, did sufficiently declair the greaf and truble of his hearte; for no man saw any sign of myrth of him, neyther yitt had he pleasur to accumpany any man, many dayis togetther. [sn: dean johne annan.] the necessitie that caused him to enter in the publict place, besydis the vocatioun foirsaid, was: dean[ ] johne annane,[ ] (a rottin papist,) had long trubled johnne rowght in his preaching: the said johnne knox had fortifeid the doctrine of the preachear by his pen, and had beattin the said dean johne from all defences, that he was compelled to fly to his last refuge, that is, to the authoritie of the church, "which authoritie, (said he,) damned all lutherianes and heretikes; and tharefoir he nedith no farther disputatioun." johne knox answered, "befoir we hold our selfis, or that ye can prove us sufficientlie convict, we must defyne the church, by the; rycht notes gevin to us in goddis scriptures of the trew church. we must decerne the immaculat spous of jesus christ, frome the mother of confusioun, spirituall babylon, least that imprudentlie we embrase a harlote instead of the cheast spous; yea, to speak it in plaine wordes, least that we submitt our selves to sathan, thinking that we submitt our selfis to jesus christ. for, as for your romane kirk, as it is now corrupted, and the authoritie thairof, whairin standis the hope of your victorie, i no more dowbt but that it is the synagog of sathan, and the head thairof, called the pape, to be that man of syne, of whome the apostle speakis, then that i doubt that jesus christ suffurred by the procurement of the visible kirk of hierusalem. [sn: the offer of johne knox first and last unto the papistis.] yea, i offer my selve, by woord or wryte, to prove the romane church this day farther degenerat from the puritie which was in the dayis of the apostles, then was the church of the jewes from the ordinance gevin by moses, when thei consented to the innocent death of jesus christ." these woordis war spokin in open audience, in the parishe kirk of sanctandrois, after that the said dean johne annane had spokin what it pleasith him, and had refuissed to dispute. the people hearing the offer, cryed with one consent, "we can not all read your writtingis, butt we may all hear your preaching: tharefore we requyre yow, in the name of god, that ye will lett us hear the probatioun of that which ye have affirmed; for yf it be trew, we have bene miserable deceaved." [sn: the first publict sermon[ ] of johne knox maid in the parish kirk of sanctandrois.] and so the nixt sounday was appointed to the said johne, to expresse his mynd in the publict preaching place. which day approching, the said johne took the text writtin in daniel, the sevint chapter, begynnyng thus: "and ane other king shall rise after thame, and he shall be unlyik unto the first, and he shall subdew three kinges, and shall speak wordis against the most heigh, and shall consome the sanctes of the most heigh, and think that he may change tymes and lawes, and thei shalbe gevin into his handis, untill a tyme, and tymes, and deviding of tymes." . in the begynnyng of his sermon, he schew the great luif of god towardis his church, whome it pleaseth to foirwarne of dangeris to come so many yearis befoir thei come to pas. . he breavelie[ ] entraited the estait of the israelitis, who thane war in bondage in babylon, for the most parte; and maid a schorte discourse of the foure impyres, the babyloniane, the persiane, that of the greakis, and the fourte of the romanes; in the destructioun whairof, rase up that last beast, which he affirmed to be the romane church; for to none other power that ever has yitt bein, do all the notes that god hes schawin to the propheit appertane, except to it allone; and unto it thei do so propirlie apperteane, that such as ar not more then blynd, may clearlie see thame. . but befoir he begane to opin the corruptionis of the papistrie, he defyned the trew kirk, schew the trew notes of it, whairupoun it was buylded, why it was the pillare of veritie, and why it could nott err, to witt, "becaus it heard the voce of the awin pastor, jesus christ, wold not hear a strangere, nether yitt wold be caryed about with everie kynd of doctrin." every ane of these headis sufficientlie declared, he entered to the contrar; and upoun the notes gevin in his text, he schew that the spreit of god in the new testament gave to this king other names,[ ] to witt, "the man of syn," "the antichrist," "the hoore of babylon." he schew, that this man of syn, or antichrist, was not to be restreaned to the person of any one man onlie, no more then by the fourte beast was to be understand the persone of any one emperour. but by sic meanes[ ] the spreat of god wold forewarne his chosyn of a body and a multitud, having a wicked head, which should not only be synefull him self, butt that also should be occasioun of syne to all that should be subject unto him, (as christ jesus is caus of justice to all the membres of his body;) and is called the antichrist, that is to say, one contrare to christ, becaus that he is contrare to him in lyeff, doctrin, lawes, and subjectes. and thane begane he to dissipher the lyves of diverse papes, and the lyves of all the scheavelynges for the most parte; thare doctrine and lawes he plainelie proved to repugne directlye to the doctrin and lawes of god the father, and of christ jesus his sone. [sn: _contra dei spiritum ad galatos ca. . versu , et , ._] this he proved by conferring the doctrin of justificatioun, expressed in the scriptures, which teach that man is "justifyed by faith only;" "that the blood of jesus christ purges us from all our synnes;" and the doctrin of the papistes, which attributeth justificatioun to the workis of the law, yea, to the workis of manis inventioun, as pilgremage, pardonis, and otheris sic baggage. that the papisticall lawes repugned to the lawes of the evangell, he proved by the lawis maid of observatioun of dayis, absteanyng from meattis, and frome mariage, which christ jesus maid free; and the forbidding whereof, sanct paule called "the doctrin of devillis." in handilling the notes of that beast gevin in the text, he willed men to considder yf these notes, [sn: the great woordis which the antichrist speakith.] "thare shall ane arise unlyk to the other, heaving a mouth speaking great thinges and blasphemous," could be applyed to any other, but to the pape and his kingdome; for "yf these, (said he,) be not great woordis and blasphemous, 'the successor of petir,' 'the vicare of christ,' 'the head of the kirk,' 'most holy,' 'most blessed,' 'that can not err;' that 'may maik rycht of wrong, and wrong of rycht;' that 'of nothing, may mak somewhat;' and that 'hath all veritie in the schryne of his breast;' yea, 'that hes power of all, and none power of him:' nay, 'not to say that he dois wrong, althought he draw ten thowsand millioun of saules with him self to hell.' yf these, (said he,) and many other, able to be schawin in his awin cannone law, be not great and blasphemous woordis, and such as never mortall man spak befoir, lett the world judge. and yitt, (said he,) is thare one most evident of all, to wit, johnne, in his revelatioun, sayis, 'that the merchandeise of that babyloniane harlot, amonges otheris thingis, shalbe the bodyes and saules of men.' now, lett the verray papistes thame selfis judge, yf ever any befoir thame took upoun thame power to relax the paines of thame that war in purgatorie, as thei affirme to the people that daily thei do, by the merites of thare messe, and of thare other trifilles." in the end he said, "yf any here, (and thare war present maister johne mayre,[ ] the universitie, the suppriour,[ ] and many channonis, with some freiris of boyth the ordouris,) that will say, that i have alledgeid scripture, doctour, or historye, otherwyise then it is writtin, lett thame come unto me with sufficient witness, and by conference i shall lett thame see, not onlye the originall whare my testimonyes ar writtin, but i shall prove, that the wrettaris ment as i have spokin." of this sermon, which was the first that ever johne knox maid in publict, was thare diverse bruyttis. some said, "otheris sned[ ] the branches of the papistrie, but he stryekis at the roote, to destroy the hole." otheris said, "yf the doctouris, and _magistri nostri_, defend nott now the pape and his authoritie, which in thare awin presence is so manifestlie impugned, the devill have my parte of him, and of his lawes boyth." otheris said, "maister george wishart spak never so plainelye, and yitt he was brunt: evin so will he be." in the end, otheris said, "the tyranny of the cardinall maid nott his cause the bettir, nether yitt the sufferring of goddis servand maid his cause the worse. and tharefoir we wold counsall yow and thame, to provide bettir defenses then fyre and sweard; for it may be that ellis ye wilbe disapointed: men now have other eyes then thei had than." this answer gave the lard of nydie,[ ] a man fervent and uprycht in religioun. the bastard bischope, who yit was not execrated, (consecrated[ ] thei call it,) wrait to the suppriour of sanctandrois, who (_sede vacante_) was vicare generall, "that he wondered that he sufferred sic hereticall and schismaticall doctrin to be tawght, and nott to oppone him self to the same." upoun this rebuck, was a conventioun of gray freiris and blak feindis appointed, with the said suppriour dean johnne wynrame, in sanct leonardis yardis, whareunto was first called johne rowght, and certane articles redd unto him; and thairafter was johnne knox called for. the caus of thare conventioun, and why that thei war called, was exponed; and the articles war read, which war these:-- i. no mortall man can be the head of the church. ii. the pape is ane antichrist, and so is no member of christis misticall body. iii. man may nether maik nor devise a religioun that is acceptable to god: butt man is bound to observe and keap the religioun that fra god is receaved, without chopping or changeing thairof. iv. the sacramentis of the new testament aucht to be ministred as thei war institut by christ jesus, and practised by his apostles: nothing awght to be added unto thame; nothing awght to be diminished from thame. v. the messe is abominable idolatrie, blasphemous to the death of christ, and a prophanatioun of the lordis suppar. vi. thare is no purgatorie, in the which the saules of men can eyther be pyned or purged after this lyef: butt heavin restis to the faythfull, and hell to the reprobat and unthankfull.[ ] vii. praying for the dead is vane, and to the dead is idolatrie. viii. thare is no bischoppes, except thei preach evin by thame selfis, without any substitut. ix. the teindis by goddis law do not apperteane of necessitie to the kirkmen. "the strangeness, (said the suppriour,) of these articles, which ar gaddered furth of your doctrin, have moved us to call for you, to hear your awin answeres." john knox said, "i, for my parte, praise my god that i see so honorable, and appearandlye so modest and qwyet are auditure. but becaus it is long since that i have heard, that ye ar one that is not ignorant of the treuth, i man crave of yow, in the name of god, yea, and i appell your conscience befoir that suppreme judge, that yf ye think any article thare expressed contrarious unto the treuth of god, that ye oppone your self plainelie unto it, and suffer nott the people to be tharewith deceaved. but, and yf in your conscience ye knaw the doctrin to be trew, then will i crave your patrocinye thareto; that, by your authoritie, the people may be moved the rather to beleve the trewth, whareof many dowbtes be reassone of our yowght."[ ] the suppriour answered, "i came nott hear as a judge, but only familiarlie to talk; and tharefore, i will nether allow nor condempne; butt yf ye list, i will reassone. why may nott the kirk, (said he,) for good causes, devise ceremonies to decore the sacramentis, and other goddis service?" johne knox. "becaus the kirk awght to do nothing, butt in fayth, and awght not to go befoir; but is bound to follow the voce of the trew pastor." the suppriour. "it is in fayth that the ceremonyes ar commanded, and thei have proper significationis to help our fayth; as the hardis in baptisme signifie the rowchnes of the law, and the oyle the softnes of goddis mercy; and lyikwyese, everie ane of the ceremonyes has a godly significatioun, and tharefoir thei boyth procead frome fayth, and ar done into faith." johne knox. "it is not yneucht that man invent a ceremonye, and then geve it a significatioun, according to his pleasur. for so mycht the ceremonyes of the gentiles, and this day the ceremonyes of mahomeit, be manteaned. but yf that any thing procead frome fayth, it man have the word of god for the assurance; for ye ar nott ignorant, 'that fayth cumis by hearing, and hearing by the word of god.' now, yf ye will prove that your ceremonyes procead from fayth, and do pleas god, ye man prove that god in expressed wordis hes commanded thame: or ellis shall ye never prove, that thei proceid from fayth, nor yitt that thei please god; but that thei ar synne, and do displease him, according to the wordis of the apostill, 'whatsoever is nott of fayth is synne.'" the suppriour. "will ye bynd us so strait, that we may do nothing without the expresse word of god? what! and i ask a drynk? think ye that i synne? and yitt i have nott goddis word for me." this answer gave he, as mycht appear, to schift ower the argument upon the freare, as that he did. johne knox. "i wald we should not jest in so grave a mater; nether wold i that ye should begyn to illud the trewth with sophistrie; and yf ye do, i will defend me the best that i can. and first, to your drinking, i say, that yf ye eyther eat or drynk without assurance of goddis worde, that in so doing ye displease god, and ye synne into your verray eatting and drynking. for sayis nott the apostle, speaking evin of meatt and drynk, 'that the creatures ar sanctifeid unto man, evin by the word and by prayer.' the word is this: 'all thingis ar clean to the clean,' &c. now, let me hear thus much of your ceremonyes, and i sall geve you the argument; bot i wonder that ye compare thingis prophane and holy thingis so indiscreatlie togetther. the questioun wes not, nor is nott of meat or drynk, whairinto the kingdome of god consistis nott; butt the questioun is of goddis trew wirschiping, without the quhilk we can have no societie with god. and, hear it is dowbted, yf we may tack the same fredome in the using of christis sacramentis, that we may do in eatting and drynking. one meat i may eatt, another i may refuise, and that without scrupill of conscience. i may change ane with ane other, evin as oft as i please. whither may we do the same in materis of religioun? may we cast away what we please, and reteane what we please? yf i be weill remembred, moses, in the name of god, sayis to the people of israell, 'all that the lord thy god commandis thee to do, that do thow to the lord thy god: add nothing to it; diminyshe nothing from it.' be this rewill, think i, that the kirk of christ will measur goddis religioun, and not by that which seames good in thare awin eis." the suppriour. "forgeve me: i spak it but in mowes, and i was dry. and now, father, (said he to the freir,) follow the argument. ye have heard what i have said, and what is answered unto me agane." arbuckill gray-freir.[ ] "i shall prove plainlye that ceremonyes ar ordeyned by god." johne knox. "such as god hes ordeyned we allow, and with reverence we use thame. but the questioun is of those that god hes nott ordeyned, such as, in baptisme, ar spattill, salt, candill, cuide, (except it be to keap the barne from cald,) hardis, oyle, and the rest of the papisticall inventionis." arbuckill. "i will evin prove these that ye dampne to be ordeyned of god." johne knox. "the pruif thareof i wald glaidly hear." arbuckill. "sayis not sanct paule, 'that another fundatioun then jesus christ may no man lay.' but upone this fundatioun some buyld, gold, silver, and precious stones; some hay, stuble, and wood. the gold, sylver, and precious stones, ar the ceremonyes of the church, which do abyd the fyre, and consumes nott away.' this place of scripture is most plaine," (sayis the foolish feind.) johne knox. "i prayse my god, throwght jesus christ, for i fynd his promeis suyre, trew, and stable. christ jesus biddis us 'nott fear, when we shalbe called befoir men, to geve confessioun of his trewth;' for he promisses, 'that it salbe gevin unto us in that hour, what we shall speak.' yf i had sowght the hole scripturis, i could not have produced a place more propir for my purpose, nor more potent to confound yow. now to your argument: the ceremonyes of the kirk, (say ye,) ar gold, silver, and pretious stonis, becaus thei ar able to abyd the fyre; but, i wold learne of yow, what fyre is it which your ceremonies does abyd? and in the meantyme, till that ye be advised to answer, i will schaw my mynd, and make ane argument against youris, upoun the same text. and first, i say, that i have heard this text adduced, for a pruf of purgatorie; but for defence of ceremonies, i never heard, nor yitt red it. but omitting whetther ye understand the mynd of the apostill or nott, i maik my argument, and say, that which may abyd the fyre, may abyd the word of god: but your ceremonies may not abyd the word of god: _ergo_, thei may not abyd the fyre; and yf they may not abyd the fyre, then ar they not gold, silver, nor precious stones. now, yf ye find any ambiguitie in this terme, fyre, which i interpret to be the woord, fynd ye me ane other fyre, by the which thingis buylded upoun christ jesus should be tryed then god and his woord, which both in the scriptures ar called fyre, and i shall correct my argument." arbuckill. "i stand nott thairupoun; but i deny your minor, to wit, that our ceremonies may not abyd the tryall of goddis woord." johne knox. [sn: _optima collatio._] "i prove, that abydis not the tryall of goddis word, which goddis word condempnes but goddis word condempnes your ceremonies: therefor thei do not abyd the tryall thairof. but as the theaf abydis the tryall of the inqueist, and tharby is condempned to be hanged, evin so may your ceremonies abyd the tryall of goddis word; but not ellis. and now, in few wordis to maik plane that wharein ye may seme to dowbt, to wit, that goddis woord damnes your ceremonies, it is evident; for the plaine and strate commandiment of god is, 'not that thing which appearis good in thy eis, shalt thow do to the lord thy god, but what the lord thy god hes commanded thee, that do thow: add nothing to it; diminish nothing from it'. [sn: deute. .] now onless that ye be able to prove that god hes commanded your ceremonies, this his formar commandiment will dampne boyth yow and thame." * * * * * the freir, somewhat abased[ ] what first to answer, whill he wanderis about in the myst, he falles in a fowll myre; for alledgeing that we may nott be so bound to the woord, he affirmed, "that the apostles had not receaved the holy ghost, when thei did wryte thare epistles; but after, thei receaved him, and then thei did ordeyn the ceremonies." (few wold have thought, that so learned a man wold have gevin so foolishe ane answer; and yitt it is evin as trew as he bayre a gray cowll.) johne knox, hearing the answer, starte, and said, "yf that be trew, i have long bein in ane errour, and i think i shall dye thairintill." the suppriour said to him, "father, what say ye? god forbide that ye affirme that; for then fayre weall the ground of our fayth." the freir astonyed, made the best schift that he could to correct his fall;[ ] but it wold not be. johne knox brought him oft agane to the ground of the argument: but he wold never answer directlie, but ever fled to the authoritie of the kyrk. whairto the said johnne answered ofter then ones, "that the spous of christ had nether power nor authoritie against the word of god." then said the freir, "yf so be, ye will leave us na kirk." "indead, (said the other,) in david i read that thare is a church of the malignantis, for he sayis, _odi ecclesiam malignantium_. that church ye may have, without the word, and doing many thingis directly feghtting against the word of god. of that church yf ye wilbe, i can not impead[ ] yow. bott as for me, i wilbe of none other church, except of that which hath christ jesus to be pastor, which hearis his voce, and will nott hear a strangeir." [sn: freir arbuckillis pruf for purgatorye.] in this disputatioun many other thingis war merealy skooft ower;[ ] for the freir, after his fall, could speak nothing to a purpose. for purgatorie he had no better pruf, but the authoritie of vergile in his sext Æneidos; and the panes thareof to him was ane evill wyff. how johne knox answered that, and many other thingis, him self did witness in a treatise that he wrate in the gallayis, conteanyng the some of his doctrin, and confessioun of his fayth,[ ] and send it to his familiaris in scotland; with his exhortatioun, that thei should continew in the trewth, which thei had professed, nochtwithstanding any worldly adversitie that mycht ensew thareof. [sn: the caus of the inserting of this disputatioun.] thus much of that disputatioun have we inserted hear, to the intent that men may see, how that sathan ever travellis to obscure the lyght; and yitt how god by his power, in his weak veschellis, confoundis his craft, and discloses his darkness. [sn: the practise of papistis that thare wickidnes should not be disclosed.] after this, the papistes nor frearis had not great heart of farther disputatioun or reassonyng; butt invented ane other schift, which appeared to proceid frome godlynes; and it was this. everie learned man in the abbay, and in the universitie, should preach in the parishe kirk his sonday about. the suppriour began, followed the officiall called spittall,[ ] (sermones penned to offend no man,) followed all the rest in thare ranckes. and so johne knox smelled out the craft, and in his sermonis, which he maid upone the weak dayis, he prayed to god, that thei should be als busye in preaching when thare should be more myster of it, then thare was then. [sn: the protestatioun of johne knox.] "allwyise, (said he,) i praise god, that christ jesus is preached, and nothing is said publictlie against the doctrin ye have heard. yf in my absence thei shall speak any thing, which in my presence thei do nott, i protest that ye suspend your judgement till that it please god ye hear me agane." [sn: maister james balfour anes joyned with the church, and did professe all doctrine tawght be johne knox.] god so assisted his weak soldeour, and so blessed his laubouris, that not onlye all those of the castell, but also a great nomber of the toune, openlie professed, by participatioun of the lordis table, in the same puritie that now it is ministrat in the churches of scotland, wyth that same doctrin, that he had taught unto thame. amongis whome was he that now eyther rewillis, or ellis misrewillis scotland, to wit, schir james balfour, (sometymes called maister james,[ ]) the cheaf and principall protestant that then was to be found in this realme. this we wryte, becaus we have heard that the said maister james alledgeis, that he was never of this our religioun; but that he was brought up in martine's[ ] opinioun of the sacrament, and tharefoir he can nott communicat with us. but his awin conscience, and two hundreth witness besydes, know that he lyes; and that he was ane of the cheaff, (yf he had not bein after coppis,) that wold have gevin his lyef, yf men mycht credite his wordis, for defence of the doctrin that the said johnne knox tawght. but albeit, that those that never war of us, (as none of monquhanye's sones have schawin thame selfis to be,) departe from us, it is no great wonder; for it is propir and naturall that the children follow the father; and lett the godly levar of that rase and progeny be schawen;[ ] for yf in thame be eather fear of god, or luf of vertew, farther then the present commoditie persuades thame, men of judgement ar deceaved. butt to returne to our historye. [sn: the rage of the marked beastis at the preaching of the treuth.] the preastis and bischoppis, enraged at these proceadingis, that war in sanctandrois, ran now upoun the governour, now upoun the quene, now upoun the hole counsall, and thare mycht have been hard complainetes and cryes, "what ar we doing? shall ye suffer this hole realme to be infected with pernicious doctrin? fy upoun yow, and fy upoun us." the quein and monsieur dosell,[ ] (who then was _a secretis mulierum_ in the courte,) conforted thame, and willed thame to be quyet, for thei should see remeady or it was long. [sn: the first cuming of the galayes anno .] and so was provin in dead; for upoun the penult day of junij, appeared in the sight of the castell of sanctandrois twenty ane frenche galayis, with a skeife of an army,[ ] the lyik whairof was never sein in that fyrth befoir. [sn: the treasonable fact of the governour and the quein dowager.] this treassonable meane had the governour, the bischope, the quein, and monsieur dosell, under the appointment drawin. bot to excuse thare treasone, viij dayis befoir, thei had presented ane absolutioun unto thame, as sent from rome, conteanyng, after the aggravatioun of the cryme, this clause, _remittimus irremissibile_, that is, we remitt the cryme that can nott be remitted. which considdered by the worst of the company[ ] that was in the castell, answer was gevin, [sn: the answer gevin to the governour when the castell of sanctandrois was required to be delivered.] "that the governour and counsall of the realme had promissed unto thame a sufficient and assured absolutioun, which that appeared nott to be; and tharefor could thei nott deliver the house, nether thought thei that any reassonable man wald requyre thame so to do, considering that promeis was nott keapt unto thame." the nixt day, after that the galayis arryved, thei summoned the hous, which being denyed, (becaus thei knew thame no magistrattis in scotland,) thei prepared for seage. and, first thei begane to assalt by sey, and schote two dayis. bott thairof thei nether gat advantage nor honour; for thei dang the sclattis of houssis, but neyther slew man, nor did harme to any wall. [sn: the gunnarris goddess.] but the castell handilled thame so, that sancta barbara, (the gunnaris goddess,) helped thame nothing; for thei lost many of thare rowaris, men chained in the galayis, and some soldeouris, bayth by sea and land. and farther, a galay that approched neyar then the rest, was so doung with the cannoun and other ordinance, that she was stopped under watter, and so almost drowned, and so had bein, war nott that the rest gave hir succourse in tyme, and drew hir first to the west sandis, without the schot of the castell, and thaireftir to dondye, whare thei remaned, till that the governour, who then was at the seige of langhope,[ ] came unto thame, with the rest of the french factioun. the seige by land was confirmed about the castell of sanctandrois, the xviiij day of julij. the trenchess war cast; ordinance was planted upoun the abbay kirk, and upoun sanct salvatouris colledge, and yitt was the steaple thairof brunt; which so noyed the castell, that neyther could thei keape thare blok-houssis, the sea-tour head, nor the west wall; for in all these places war men slaine by great ordinance. yea, thei monted the ordinance so height upoun the abbay kirk, that thei mycht discover the ground of the close[ ] in diverse places. moreover, within the castell was the pest,[ ] (and diverse thairin dyed,) which more effrayed some that was thairin, then did the externall force without. [sn: the sentence of johne knox to the castell of sanctandrois befoir it was won.] but johne knox was of ane other judgement, for he ever said, "that thare corrupt lyef could nott eschape punishment of god;" and that was his continuall advertisment, fra the tyme that he was called to preache. when thei triumphed of thare victorie, (the first twenty dayis thei had many prosperous chances,) he lamented, and ever said, "thei saw not what he saw." when thei bragged of the force and thicknes of thare walles, he said, "thei should be butt eggeschellis."[ ] when thei vanted, "england will reskew us," he said, "ye shall not see thame; but ye shalbe delivered in your ennemyis handis, and shalbe caryed to ane strange countrey." [sn: prior of cappua] upone the penult of julij,[ ] at nycht, was the ordinance planted for the battery; xiiij cannons, whareof four was cannons royall, called double cannons, besydis other peices. the battery begane att iiij houris in the mornyng, and befoir ten houris of the day, the haill sowth qwarter, betuix the foir tour and the east blok-house, was maid saltable. the lawer transe was condempned, diverse slane into it, and the east blok-house was schote of fra the rest of the place, betuix ten houris and ellevin. thare fell a schour of rane, that continewed neir ane hour, the lyek wharof had seldom bein sein: it was so vehement, that no man myeht abyd without a house: the cannounes war left allone. some within the castell war of judgement, that men should have ished, and putt all in the handis of god. but becaus that williame kirkcaldy was commonyng[ ] with the priour of cappua,[ ] who had the commissioun of that jorney from the king of france, nothing was interprysed. and so was appointment maid, and the castell randered upone setterday, the last of julij. [sn: the castell of sanctandrois refuised in thare greatest extremitie to appoint with the governour.] the headis of the appointment war; "that the lyefis of all within the castell should be saved, alsweall engliss as scottish; that thei should be saiflie transported to france; and in case that, upoun conditionis that by the king of france should be offerred unto thame, thei could nott be content to remane in service and fredome thare, thei should, upoun the king of france expenssis, be saiflie conveyed to what contrey thei wold requyre, other then scotland." wyth the governour thei wold have nothing ado, neyther yitt with any scottishe man; for thei had all tratorouslye betrayed them, "which," said the lard of grange eldar, (a man sempill, and of most stout corage,) "i am assured god shall revenge it, or it be long." [sn: maister james balfour was fleyed yneuch.] the galayes, weall furnessed with the spoyle of the castell foirsaid, after certane dayis, returned to france; and eschaping a great danger, (for upon the back of the sandis thei all schopped,) thei arryved first at fekcam,[ ] and thareafter past up the watter of sequane,[ ] and lay befoir rowane; whare the principall gentilmen, who looked for fredome, war dispersed and putt in syndrie preasonis. the rest war left in the galayis, and thare miserable entreated, amonges whome the foirsaid maister james balfour was, with his two brethrein, david and gilbert, men without god. which we wryt, becaus that we hear, that the said maister james, principall mysgydar now of scotland, denyes that he had any thing to do with the castell of sanctandrois, or yet that ever he was in the galayis. then was the joy of the papistis boyth of scotland and france evin in full perfectioun; for this was thare song of triumphe:-- preastis content yow now; preastis content yow now; for normond and his cumpany hes filled the galayis fow. the pope wrote his letters to the king of france, and so did he to the governour of scotland, thanking thame hartlie for the tacking panes to revenge the death of his kynd creature, the cardinall of scotland; desyring thame to continew in thare begune severitie, that such thingis after should not be attemptat. and so war all these that war deprehended in the castell dampned to perpetuall preasone; and so judged the ungodly, that after that in scotland should christ jesus never have triumphed. one thing we can not pass by: from scotland was send a famous clerk, (lawghe not, readar,) maister johnne hammyltoun of mylburne,[ ] with credite to the king of france, and unto the cardinall of lorane, (and yitt he nether had french nor latine, and some say his scottishe toung was nott verray good.) the sume of all his negotiatioun was, that those of the castell should be scharplie handilled. in which suyt, he was heard with favouris, and was dispatched fra the courte of france with letteris, and great credyte, which that famouse clark foryett by the way; for passing up to the craig[ ] of dumbertane, befoir his letteris war delyvered, he brack his nek; and so god took away a proude ignorant ennemye. butt now to our historie. [sn: _nulla fides regni sociis, etc._] these thingis against promeissis, (but princes have no fidelitie farther then for thare awin advantage,) done at rowane,[ ] the galayes departed to nantes, in bartainzie, whare upone the watter of lore[ ] thei lay the hole wyntar. in scotland, that somer, was nothing but myrth; for all yead[ ] with the preastis eavin at thare awin pleasur. the castell of sanctandrois was rased to the ground,[ ] the block houssis thairof cast doune, and the walles round about demolissed. whitther this was to fulfill thare law, which commandis places whare cartlinalles ar slane so to be used; or ellis for fear that england should have takin it, as after thei did broughty crage, we remitt to the judgement of such as was of counsall. [sn: pynckey cleucht.] this same year, in the begynnyng of september, entered in scotland ane army of ten thowsand men from england, by land, some schippes with ordinance came by sea. the governour and the bischope, heirof advertissed, gathered togetther the forces of scotland, and assembled at edinburgh. the protectour of england,[ ] with the erle of warwik, and thare army, remaned at preastoun, and about preastoun pannes:[ ] for thei had certane offerres to have bein proponed unto the nobilitie of scotland, concernyng the promeissis befoir maid by thame, unto the which king hary befoir his death gentillye required thame to stand fast; and yf thei so wald do, of him nor of his realme thei should have no truble, but the helpe and the conforte that he could maike thame in all thingis lauchfull. and heirupoun was thare a letter direct to the governour and counsall;[ ] which cuming to the handis of the bischope of sanctandros, he thought it could nott be for his advantage that it should be divulgat, and thairfoir by his craft it was suppressed. [sn: the securitie of the scotismen at pynkey cleucht.] upone the fryday, the [ixth[ ]] of september, the engliss army marched towardis leyth, and the scottishe army marched from edinburgh to enresk.[ ] the hole scottishe army was nott assembled, and yitt the skirmissing begane; for nothing was concluded but victorie without strok. the protectour, the erle of warwik, the lord gray, and all the engliss capitanes, war played[ ] at the dyce. no men war stowttar then the preastis and channounes, with thare schaven crownes and blak jackis. [sn: frydayis chase.] the erle of warwik and the lord gray, who had the cheaf charge of the horsmen, perecaving the host to be molested with the scotishe preakaris,[ ] and knowing that the multitud war nether under ordour nor obedience, (for thei war devided fra the great army,) sent furth certane troupes horsmen, and some of thare borderaris, eyther to feght thame, or ellis to putt thame out of thare syght, so that thei mycht not annoy the host. the skarmuch grewe hote, and at lenth the scottishmen gave back, and fled without gane turne. the chase continewed far, bayth towardis the east and towardis the weast; in the which many war slayne, and he that now is lord home was tane, which was the occasioun, that the castell of home[ ] was after randered to the engliss men. [sn: braggis.] the lose of these men neyther moved the governour, nor yitt the bischope, his bastard brother: thei should revenge the mater weall yneuch upoun the morne; for thei war handis ynew, (no word of god;) the engliss heretyckis had no faces; thei wald not abyd. [sn: the repulse of the horsmen of england.] upone the setterday, the armyis of boyth sydis past to array. the engliss army tackis the mydd parte of fawsyd hill,[ ] having thare ordinance planted befoir thame, and having thare schippes and two galayis brought as neir the land as watter wald serve. the scottishe army stood first in ane ressonable strenth and good ordour, having betuix thame and the engliss army the watter of esk, (otherwyese called mussilburgh watter;) butt at length a charge was gevin in the governouris behalf, with sound of trumpett, that all men should merche fordwarte, and go ower the watter.[ ] some say, that this was procured by the abbote of dumfermeling,[ ] and maister hew rig,[ ] for preservatioun of carbarry. men of judgement lyeked not the jorney; for thei thought it no wisdome to leave thare strenth. but commandiment upoun commandiment, and charge upoun charge, was gevin, which urged thame so, that unwillinglie thei obeyed. the erle of anguss,[ ] being in the vantgard, had in his cumpany the gentilmen of fyfe, of anguss, mernes, and the westland, with many otheris that of luif resorted to him, and especiallie those that war professouris of the evangell; for thei supposed, that england wold not have maid gret persuyt of him. he passed first throwght the watter, and arrayed his host direct befoir the ennemies. followed the erle of huntlie, with his northland men. last came the duke, having in his cumpany the erle of ergyle,[ ] with his awin freindis, and the body of the realme. the englesmen perceaving the danger, and how that the scottishe men intended to have tane the tope of the hill, maid hast to prevent the perrell. the lord gray was commanded to geve the charge with his men of armes, which he did, albeit the hasard[ ] was verray unliklye; for the erle of anguss host[ ] stood evin as a wall, and receaved the first assaultairis upon the pointis of thare spearis, (which war longar then those of the englismen,) so ruidlye, that fyftie horse and men of the first rank lay dead at ones, without any hurte done to the scottishe army, except that the spearis of the formar two rankis war brokin. which discomfitur receaved, the rest of the hors men fled; yea, some passed beyound fawsyd hill. the lord gray him self was hurte in the mouth, and plainelie denyed to charge agane; for he said, "it was alyik as to ryne against a wall." the galayis and the schippes, and so did the ordinance planted upoun the mydd hill, schote terriblye. but the ordinance of the galayis schooting longis the scotish army effrayed thame wonderuslye.[ ] and whill that everie man laubouris to draw from the north, whense the danger appeired, thei begyne to reyll, and with that war the engliss foot men marching fordwarte, albeit that some of thare horsmen war upoun the flight. the erle of anguss army stood still, looking that eyther huntlie[ ] or the duke should have recountered the nixt battell; but thei had decreid that the favoraris of england, and the heretickis, (as the preastis called thame,) and the englismen should parte it betuix thame for the day. the fear ryses, and at ane instant thei, which befoir war victouris, and war nott yitt assaulted with any force, (except with ordinance, as said is,) cast frome thame thare spearis and fled. so that goddis power was so evidentlie sein, that in one moment, yea, at one instant tyme, boyth the armyes war fleing. the schout came from the hill frome those that hoped no victorie upone the engliss parte; the schout ryses, (we say,) "thei flye, thei flie;" but at the first it could nott be beleved, till at the last it was clearlie sein, that all had gevin backis, and then begane a cruell slawchtter, (which was the greattar be reassone of the lait displeasur of the men of armes.) the chase and slaughter lasted till ney edinburght, upoun the one parte, and be-west dalkeith, upon the other.[ ] the number of the slane upoun the scotishe syd war judged ney ten thowsand men. the erle of huntley was tackin, and caryed to london; but he releved him self, being suyrtie for many ransonis, honestlie or unhonestlie[ ] we know nott; but, as the bruyt past, he used pollicye with england. in that same battell was slane the maister of erskin,[ ] deirlie beloved of the quein, for whome she maid great lamentatioun, and bayre his death many dayis in mind. when the certaintie of the disconfiture came, sche was in edinburgh abyding upon tydinges; but with expeditioun she posted that same nycht to stryveling, with monsieur dosell, who was als fleyed as "a fox when his hole is smoked." and thus did god tak the secound revenge upoun the perjured governour, with such as assisted him to defend ane injust qwerrell; albeit that many innocentis fell amonges the myddest of the wicked. the engliss army came to leyth, and thare tackin ordour with thare preasonaris and spoile, thei returned with this victorie, (which thei looked nott for,) to england. that wynter following was great heirschippes maid upoun all the bordouris of scotland. browghty crag[ ] was tane by the englismen, beseiged by the governour, but still keapt; and at it was slane gawen, the best of the hammyltonis,[ ] and the ordinance left. whareupon, the englismen encouraged, begane to fortifie upoun the hill above broughty hous, which was called the forte of broughty, and was verray noysome to dondy, which it brunt and laid waist; and so did it the moist parte of anguss, which was not assured, and under freindschipe with thame. that lentran[ ] following, [sn: .] was haddingtoun fortified by the engliss men. the maist parte of lothiane, from edinburgh east, was eyther assured or laid wast. thus did god plague in everie qwarter; butt men war blynd, and wald nott, nor could nott, considder the cause. the lardes ormestoun[ ] and brunestoun[ ] war banissed, and after forfalted,[ ] and so war all those of the castell of sanctandrois. the suyre knowledge of the trubles of scotland cuming to france, thare was prepared a navy and army. the navy was such as never was sein to come fra france, for the supporte of scotland; for besydis the galayis, being twenty twa then in nomber, thei had threscoir great schippis, besydis vittallaris. howsone soever thei took the playne seas, the read lyoun of scotland was displayed, and thei holdin as rebelles unto france, (such pollicye is no falsett in princes,) for good peax stoode betuix france and england, and the king of france approved nothing that thei did. the cheaf men, to whome the conducting of that army was committed, war monsieur dandelot, monsieur de termes, and peir de strois. in thare jorney thei maid some hereschepe upoun the coast of england; but it was nott great. [sn: .] they arryved in scotland in maij, anno .[ ] the galayis did visitt the forte of browghty, but did no more at that tyme. preparationis war maid for the seig of hadyngtoun; but it was ane other thing that thei ment, as the ischew declared. [sn: the parliament att hadingtoun.] the hole body of the realme assembled, the forme of a parliament was sett to be holdin thare, to witt, in the abbay of haddingtoun.[ ] the principall head was the mariage of the princess (by thame befoir contracted to king edwarte,) to the king of france, and of hir present deliverie, be reassone of the danger that she stood into, by the invasioun of our old ennemies of england. some war corrupted with buddis, some deceaved by flattering promessis, and some for fear war compelled to consent; for the french soldartis war the officiaris of armes in that parliament. the lard of balclewcht,[ ] a bloody man, with many goddis woundis, sware, "thei that wold nott consent should do war." the governour gat the duchry of chattellerawlt,[ ] with the ordour of the cokill, and a full discharge of all intromissionis with king james the fyft his treasure and substance whatsoever, with possessioun of the castell of dumbertane, till that ischew should be sein of the quenis body. [sn: the dukis fact, and what appearis to follow thareof.] with these, and other conditionis, stood he content to sell his soverane furth of his awin handis, which in the end wilbe his destructioun; god thairby punishing his formar wickedness, (yf speady reapentance prevent not goddis judgementis, which we hartly wishe.) huntley, ergyle, and anguss, was lykwiese maid knyghtis of the cockill;[ ] and for that and other good deid receaved, thei sold also thare parte. [sn: experience hes tawght, and farther will declair.] schortlie, none was found to resist that injust demand; and so was she sold to go to france, to the end that in hir youth she should drynk of that lycour, that should remane with hir all hir lyfetyme, for a plague to this realme, and for hir finall destructioun. and tharefoir, albeit that now a fyre cumes out frome hir, that consumes many, lett no man wonder, she is goddis hand, in his displeasur punishing our formare ingratitude. [sn: _perfice quod cepisti me deus propter tui nominis gloriam. junij ._[ ]] lett men patientlie abyd, and turne unto thare god, and then shall he eyther destroy that hoore in hir hurdome, or ellis he shall putt it in the harttis of a multitude, to tak the same vengeance upoun hir, that hes bein tane of jesabell and athalia, yea, and of otheris, of whome prophane historyis mak mentioun; for greattar abominatioun was never in the nature of any woman, then is in hir, whareof we have but sein only the buddis; butt we will after taist of the rype frutt of hir impietie, yf god cutt not hir dayis schorte. [sn: writtin the ---- of aprile, anno .] but to returne to our historie. [sn: the seige of hadingtoun.] this conclusioun tackin, that our quein, (butt farther delay,) should be delivered to france, the seig continewis, great schooting, but no assaulting; and yitt thei had fair occasioun offered unto thame. for the englismen approching to the toune, for the conforting of the beseiged, with powder, vittalles, and men, lost ane army of sax thowsand men. [sn: tuesdayis chase.] schir robert bowes[ ] so was tane, and the most parte of the borderaris war eyther tackin or slane. and so mycht the toune justlye have dispared of any farther succourse to have bein loked for; butt yit it held good; for the stout corage and prudent governement of schir james wolfurd,[ ] generall, who did so encorage the hole capitanes and soldartis, that thei determined to dye upon thare wallis. but from the tyme that the frenche men had gottin the bone for the which the dog barked, the persuyt of the toune was slow. the seig was rased, and she was convoyed by the weast seas to france,[ ] with four galayis, and some schippis; and so the cardinall of lorane gatt hir in his keping, a morsall, assuyre yow,[ ] meit for his awin mouth. we omitt many thingis that, occurred in this tyme; as the sitting doun of the schip called the cardinall, (the farest schip in france,) betuix sanct colmes inch and crawmond,[ ] without any occasioun, except negligence, for the day was fair, and the wetther calme; but god wold schaw, that the countrie of scotland can bear no cardinallis. in this tyme also, was thare a combate betuix the galayis and the engliss schippis; thei schote fracklie a whill. ane engliss schip took fyre, or ellis the galayis had come schorte hame, and, as it was, thei fled without mercy, till that thei war abuf sanct colmes inch.[ ] the capitanes left the galayes, and took a forte maid upoun the inch for thare defence. but the engliss schippis maid no persuyt, (except that thei brunt the cardinall whare that she lay,) and so the galayis and the galay-men did boyth eschape. ordoure was lackin, that nixt september, that some galayes should remane in scotland, and that the rest should returne to france; as that thei did all, except one that was tackin by ane engliss schip, (by one engliss schip onlye, we say,) as that thei war passing betuix dover and calice. that wynter remaned monsieur de arfe[ ] in scotland, with the bandis of french men. thei fortified enresk, to stay that the engliss should not invaid edinburgh and leyth. some skarmessis[ ] thare war betuix the one and the other, butt no notable thing done, except that the french had almost tackin hadingtoun; the occasioun whareof was this. the french men thinking thame selfis moir then maisteris in all partes of scotland, and in edinburgh principallie, thought that thei could do no wrong to no scottishe man; for a certane french man delivred a coulvering to george tod, scottisman, to be stocked, who bringing it throwght the streat, ane other french man clamed it, and wold have reft it from the said george; but he resisted, alledgeing that the frenche man did wronge. and so begane parties to assemble, asweall to the scottishman, as to the french; so that two of the french men war stryckin doune, and the rest chassed from the croce to nudrye's wynd head.[ ] the provost being upoun the streat, apprehended two of the french, and was carying thame to the tolbuyth; but from monsieur de essie's loodgeing and close isched furth french men, to the nomber of threscoir persones, with drawin sweardis, and resisted the said provest. but yitt the toune assembling repulsed thame, till that thei came to the nether bow;[ ] and thare monsieur la chapell, with the hole bandis of french men enarmed, rencontered the said provest, and[ ] repulsed him, (for the toune war without weapones, for the maist parte,) and so maid invasioun upoun all that thei mett. [sn: the slaughter of the capitane of the castell of edinburgh] and first, in the throt of the bow, war slane david kirk and david barbour, (being at the provostes back,) and thareafter war slane the said provest himself, being lard of stannoss, and capitane of the castell,[ ] james hammyltoun his sone,[ ] williame chapman, a godly man, maister williame stewarte,[ ] williame purvess, and a woman, named elizabeth stewarte; and thareafter taryed within the toune, by force, from fyve houris, till after sevin at nycht, and then reteared to the cannogat, as to thare receptackle and refuge. [sn: hadingtoun almost surprised by the french.] the hole toun, yea, the governour and nobilitie commoved at the unwoorthynes of this bold attemptat, craved justice upoun the malefactouris, or ellis thei wold tack justice of the hole. the quein, crafty yneweht, monsieur de essye, and monsieur dosel, laubored for pacificatioun, and did promeise, "that onless the french men, by thame selfis allone, should do such ane act, as mycht recompense the wrong that thei had done, that then thei should not refuise, but that justice should be executed to the rigour." these fayre woordis pleased our foollis, and so war the frenche bandis the nixt nycht direct to hadingtoun,[ ] to the which thei approched a lytill after mydnycht, so secreatlye, that thei war never espyed, till that the formar war within the basse courte, and the haill cumpany in the church yard, nott two payre of boot lenthis distant frome the toune. the soldartis, englishmen, war all a sleape, exceapt the watch, the which was sklender, and yitt the schowt arises, "bowes and billes: bowes and billes;" which is significatioun of extreame defence, to avoid the present danger, in all tounes of warr. the effrayed aryses: weapones that first come to hand serve for the nead. one[ ] amongis many cumes to the east porte, whare lay two great pieces of ordinance, and whare the ennemies war knowin to be, and cryed to his fellowes that war at the yett macking defence, "ware befoir;" and so fyres a great peace, and thareafter another, which god so conducted, that after thame was no farther persuyt maid; for the bullates redounded fra the wall of the freir kirk, to the wall of sanct katherine's chapell, which stood direct foiranent it, and fra the wall of the said chapell to the said kirk wall agane, so oft, that thare fell mo then ane hundreth of the french, att those two schottis only. thei schott oft, but the french reteired with diligence, and returned to edinburgh, without harme done, except the destructioun of some drynkin bear, which lay in the saidis chappell and kirk. and this was satisfactioun more then yneuht,[ ] for the slawchter of the said capitane and provest, and for the slawghter of such as war slane with him. this was the begynnyng of the french fruittis. [sn: the recovery of the castell of home.] this wynter, in the tyme of christen masse, was the castell of home recovered from the engliss, by the negligence of the capitane named dudley.[ ] [sn: the death of the lard of rayth.] this wynter also did the lard of rayth most innocentlie suffer, and after was forfalted, becaus that he wrait a bill to his sone, johne melvin,[ ] who then was in england, which was alleged to have bein found in the house of ormestoun; but many suspected the pauckis[ ] and craft of ringzen cockburne, (now called capitane ringzeane,[ ]) to whome the said letter was delivered. butt howsoever it was, thei cruell beastis, the bischope of sanctandrois and abbot of dumfermling, ceassed nott, till that the head of the said noble man was strickin from him; especiallie becaus that he was knawin to be ane that unfeanedlie favored the treuth of goddis word, and was a great freind to those that war in the castell of sanctandrois; of whose deliverance, and of goddis wonderouse wyrking with thame during the tyme of thare bondage, we man now speak, least that in suppressing of so notable a wark of god, we mycht justlie be accused of ingratitude. [sn: the entreatment of these of the castell of sanctandrois during thare captivity.] and, first, the principalles being putt in severall houssis, as befoir we have said, great laubouris was maid to mack thame have a good opinioun of the messe. but cheaflie travail was takin upoun normond leslye,[ ] the lard of grange, and the lard of petmyllie,[ ] who war in the castell of scherisburgh,[ ] that thei wold come to the messe with the capitane: who answered, "that the capitane had commandiment to keape thare bodyes, but he had no power to command thare conscience." the capitane replyed, "that he had power to command and to compell thame to go whare he yead." thei answered, "that to go to any lauchfull place with him, thei wold nott refuise; but to do any thing that was against thare conscience thei wold not, nether for him, nor yitt for the king." the capitane said, "will ye nott go to the messe?" thai answered, "no; and yf ye wald compell us, yitt will we displease yow farther; for we will so use our selfis thare, that all those that ar present shall knaw that we dispite it." these same answeris, (and somewhat scharpar,) williame kirkcaldye, petir carmichaell, and such as war with thame in mont sanct michaell, gave to thare capitane; for thei said, "thei wold nott only hear messe everie day, but that thei wold help to say it, provided that thei mycht stick the preastis, or ellis thei wold nott." maister henry balnaves,[ ] who was in the castell of rowane, was most sharplie assaulted of all; for becaus he was judged learned, (as he was, and is, in deid,) tharefoir learned men war appointed to trawall with him, with whome he had many conflictes; but god so ever assisted him, that thei departed confounded, and he, by the power of goddis spreit, remaned constant in the trewth and profession of the same, without any wavering or declynyng to idolatrie. in the preasone he wrait a most profitable treatise of justificatioun,[ ] and of the workis and conversatioun of a justifeid man: but how it is suppressed, we know nott. these that war in the galayis war threatned with tormentis, yf thei wold not geve reverence to the messe, (for at certane tymes the messe was said in the galay, or ellis heard upoun the schoar, in[ ] presence of the forsaris;) butt thei could never mack the poorest of that cumpanye to geve reverence to that idole. yea, when upoun the setterday at nycht, thei song thare _salve regina_, the hole scottishmen putt on thare cappes, thare hoodis, or such thing as thei had to cover thare headis; and when that otheris war compelled to kyss a paynted brod, (which thei called "nostre dame,") thei war not preassed after ones; for this was the chance. [sn: meary fact.] sone after the arrivall at nances,[ ] thare great _salve_ was song, and a glorious painted lady was brought in to be kissed, and, amongis otheris, was presented to one of the scotishmen then cheyned. he gentillye said, "truble me nott; such ane idole[ ] is accurssed; and tharefoir i will not tuich it." the patron and the arguesyn, with two officeris, having the cheaf charge of all such materis, said, "thow salt handill it;" and so thei violentlie thrust it to his face, and putt it betuix his handis; who seing the extremitie, tooke the idole, and advisitlie looking about, he caist it in the rivare, and said, "lett our lady now saif hir self: sche is lycht aneuch; lett hir learne to swyme." after that was no scotish man urged with that idolatrie. these ar thingis that appear to be of no great importance; and yit yf we do rychtlie considder, thei expresse the same obedience that god requyred of his people israell, when that thei should be caryed to babylon; for he gave charge unto thame, that when thei should see the babylonians wirschipe thare goddis of gold, silver, mettall, and woid, that thei should say, [sn: jere. .] "the goddis that have nott maid the heavin and the earth shall perish frome the heavin, and out of the earth." that confessioun gave that hole nomber, during the tyme of thare bondage: in the which, wald god thei had continewed in thare fredome; for then had nott maister james balfour bein officiall,[ ] neyther yitt borne a cope[ ] for pleasur of the bischope. but to proceid. the said maister james and johne knox being intill one galay, and being wounderous familiare with him, wold often tymes ask his judgement, "yf he thought that ever thei should be delivered?" whose answer was ever, fra the day that thei entered in the galayis, "that god wald deliver thame from that bondage, to his glorie, evin in this lyef." [sn: _quÆvis multa sint justorum mala._] and lyeing betuix dundye and sanctandrois, the secound tyme[ ] that the galayis returned to scotland, the said johne being so extreamlye seak, that few hoped his lyeff, the said maister james willed him to look to the land, and asked yf he knew it? who answered, "yes: i knaw it weall; for i see the stepill of that place, whare god first in publict opened my mouth to his glorie, and i am fullie persuaded, how weak that ever i now appear, that i shall nott departe this lyif, till that my toung shall glorifie his godlie name in the same place." this reported the said maister james in presence of many famous witness, many zearis befoir that ever the said johne sett his futt in scotland, this last tyme, to preache. [sn: johne knox his ansuer and counsall to the captives.] williame kirkcaldy, then of grange, youngar, petir carmichaell, robert and williame leslyes, who war altogetther in mont sanct michaell,[ ] wrait to the said johnne, asking his counsall, "yf thei mycht with saif conscience break thare preasone?" whose answer was, "that yf without the blood of any sched of spilt by thame for thare deliverance, thei mycht sett thame selfis at fredome, that thei mycht saiflye tak it: but to sched any manes bloode for thare fredome, thairto wold he never consent." adding farther, "that he was assured that god wold deliver thame, and the rest of that cumpany, evin in the eis[ ] of the world; but not by such meanes as we had looked for, that was by the force of freindis, or by thare other labouris." by such meanes he affirmed thei should nott be delivered, but that god wold so wirk in the deliverance of thame, that the praise thairof should redound to his glorie onlye. he willed, tharefoir, everie one to tack the occasioun that god offerred unto thame, providing that thei committed nothing against goddis expresse commandiment, for deliverance of thame selves. he was the more earnest in geving his counsall, becaus that the old larde of grange,[ ] and otheris, repugned to thare purpoise, fearing least that the eschaping of the otheris should be ane occasioun of thare warse entreatment. whareunto the said johnne answered, "that such fear proceided nott from goddis spreat, but only from ane blynd luif of the self; and tharefor, that no good purpoise was to be stayed for thingis that war in the handis and power of god." and added, "that in one instant god delivered all that cumpany in the handis of unfaythfull men, but so wald he nott releave thame. but some wald he deliver by one meanes, and at one tyme, and otheris must abyd for a season upon his good pleasur." this counsall in the end embrased, upoun the kinges evin,[ ] when french men commonlie use to drynk liberallie, the foirsaid four personis, having the helpe and conducting of a boy of the house, band all those that war in the castell, putt thame in syndrie houssis, locked the doores upon thame, took the keyis from the capitane, and departed, without harme done to the persone of any, or without tueching of any thing that apparteaned to the king, the capitane, or the house. [sn: the eschaping of williame kirkcaldye and his fellowis furth of mont sanct michaell.] great search was maid throweh the hole countrey for thame.[ ] but it was goddis gud pleasur so to conduct thame, that thei eschaped the handis of the faithless, albeit it was with long travaill, and grait pane and povertie susteaned; for the french boy left thame, and took with him the small poise that thei had; and so nether having money, nor knawledge of the countrey, and farther fearing that the boy should discrive thame, (as that in verray dead he did,) thei took purpose[ ] to devid thame selfis, to change thare garmentis, and to go in sindrie partes. the two brethrein, williame and robert leslyes,[ ] (who now ar become, the said robert especiall, ennemies to christ jesus and to all vertew,) came to rowane. williame kirkcaldy and petir carmichael, in beggaris garment, came to conqwet,[ ] and by the space of twelf or threttein weakis, thei travalled as poore marinaris, frome porte to porte, till at lenth thei gat a french schipe, and landed in the weast, and from thense came to england, whare thei mett befoir thame the said johne knox, who that same wynter was delivered, and alexander clerk[ ] in his cumpany. the said johne[ ] was first appointed preachar to berwik, then to newcastell; last he was called to london, and to the sowth partes of england, whare he remaned to the death of king edwart the sext.[ ] when he left england, then he passed to geneva, and thare remaned at his privat study, till that he was called by the engliss[ ] congregatioun, that then was assembled at franctfoorde, to be preachear to thame: which vocatioun he obeyed, (albeit unwillinglye,) at the commandiment of that notable servand of god, johne calvyne. at franctfoord he remaned, till that some of the learned, (whose names we suppress,) moir gevin to unprofitable ceremonies,[ ] then to synceritie of religioun, began to qwerrall with the said johnne; and becaus thei dispared to prevaill befoir the magistrat thare, for the establissing of thare corruptionis, thei accused him of treasone committed against the emperour, and against thare soverane quein marie, that in his admonitioun to england,[ ] he called the one lytill inferiour to nero, and the other more cruell then jezabell. the magistrat perceaving thare malice, and fearing that the said johnne should fall in the handis of his accusatouris, by one meane or by other, gave advertisment secreatlie to him to departe thare citie; for thei could not saif him yf he ware required by the emperour, or by the quein of england in the emperouris name; and so the said johne returned to geneva, from thense to deape, and thairafter to scotland, as we shall after hear. the tyme and that wynter that the galayes remaned in scotland, war delivered maister james balfour, his twa brethrein, david and gilbert, johne auchinlek, johnne sibbald, johne gray, william gutthery, and stevin bell.[ ] the gentilmen that remaned in preasonis war, by the procurement of the quein dowager, to the cardinall of lorane and to the king of france, sett at libertie in the moneth of julij, anno ; who schorte tharefter war called to scotland,[ ] thare peax proclamed, and thei thame selfis restored to thare landis, in dyspite of thare ennemies. and that was done in hatterent of the duck, becaus that then france begane to thrist to have the regiment of scotland in thare awin handis. how soever it was, god maid the heartis of thare ennemyes to sett thame at libertie and fredome. thare rested a nomber of commoun servandis yitt in the galayes, who war all delivered upoun the contract of peace that was maid betuix france and england, after the tackin of bullon; and so was the haill cumpany sett at libertie, none perishing,[ ] (no nott befoir the world,) except james melvin, who departed from the miserie of this lyif in the castell of byrst in bartainzea.[ ] [sn: the slaughter of that villane davy.] this we wryte to lett the posteriteis to come understand, how potentlye god wrought in preserving and delivering of these that had butt a small knowledge of his trewth, and for the luif of the same hasarded all; that yf that eyther we now in our dayis, having grettar lycht, or our posteriteis that shall follow us, shall see ane fearfull dispersioun of such as oppone thame selfis to impietie, or tack upoun thame to punishe the same, otherwiese then lawis of men will permite: yf, (we say,) we or thei[ ] shall see such left of men, yea, as it war, dispyssed and punished of god; yit lett us nott dampne the personis that punish vice, (and that for just caussis;) nor yitt dispare, butt that the same god that dejectes, (for causes unknawin to us,) will raise up agane the personis dejected, to his glorye and thare conforte. and to lett the world understand in plane termes what we meane, that great abusar of this commoun wealth, that pultron and vyle knave davie, was justlie punished, the nynt of merch, in the year of god[ ] j^m. v^c. threscore fyve, for abusing of the commoun wealth, and for his other villany,[ ] which we list nott to express, by the counsall and handis of james dowglas, erle of morton, patrik lord lyndesay, and the lord ruthven, with otheris assistaris in thare cumpany, who all, for thare just act, and most worthy of all praise, ar now unworthely left of thare brethrein, and suffer the bitterness of banishement and exyle. but this is our hope in the mercyes of our god, that this same blynd generatioun, whither it will or nott, shalbe compelled to see that he will have respect to thame that ar injustlye persewed; that he will apardoun thare formar offenses; that he will restore thame to the libertie of thare countrey and common wealth agane; and that he will punish, (in dispyte of man,) the head and the taill, that now trubles the just, and manteanes impietie. [sn: the reularis of mary, anno , and thaire predictioun.] the head is knawin: the taill hes two branches; the temporall lordis that manteane hir abhominationis, and hir flattering counsallouris, blasphemous balfour, now called clerk of register,[ ] sinclar deane of restalrige and bischope of brechin, blynd of ane eie in the body, but of boithe in his saule,[ ] upoun whome god schortlie after took vengeance; [john[ ]] leslye, preastis gett,[ ] abbot of londorse and bischope of ross, symon preastoun of craigmyllare,[ ] a right epicureane, whose end wilbe, or it be long, according to thare warkis. butt now to returne to our historye. * * * * * haddingtoun being keapt,[ ] and much hearschipe done about in the countrey, (for what the engliss men destroyed nott, that was consumed by the french,) god begynnis to feght for schotland; for in the toun he send a peast so contagious, that with great difficultie could thei have thare dead buryed. thei war oft refresched with new men, but all was in vane. hunger and pest within, and the persuyt of the ennemy with a campe volant lay about thame, and intercepted all victuallis, (except when thei war brought by ane convoy from berwik,) so constrayned thame that the counsall of england was compelled in spring tyme to call thare forses from that place; and so spuilzeing and burnyng some parte of the toune, thei left it to be occupyed to such as first should tack possessioun,--and those war the frenchmen, with a meane nomber of the ancient inhabitantis. and so did god performe the woordis and threatnyng of his servand, maister george wisharte, who said, "that for thare contempt of goddis messinger, thei should be visited with sweard and fyre, with pestilence, strangearis, and famyne;" which all thei fand in such perfectioun, that to this day yitt, that toune hes neyther recovered the formar beautie, nor yit men of such wisdome and habilitie, as then did inhabite it. hearafter was peace contracted betuix france and england and scotland;[ ] yea, a severall peace was contracted betuix scotland and flanderis, togetther with all the easterlingis; so that scotland had peace with the world.[ ] butt yitt wold thare bischopcs maik warr against god; for how sone that ever thei gat any qwyetness, thei apprehended adame wallace,[ ] alias fean, a sempill man, without great learnyng, but ane that was zelous in godlynes and of ane uprycht lyeff. he, with his wyif beatrice levingstoun, frequented the cumpany of the lady ormestoun,[ ] for instructioun of hir childrein, during the truble of hir husband, who then was banissed. this bastard, called bischope of sanctandrois, took the said adame furth of the place of wyntoun,[ ] (men supposed that thei thowght to have apprehended the lard,) and caryed him to edinburgh; whare, after certane dayis, he was presented to judgement in the kirk of the blak thevis alias freiris,[ ] befoir the duik, the erle of huntley, and diverse otheris besydis, the bischoppes and thare rable. thei begyn to accuse him, (maister johnne lauder[ ] was accusatour,) [sn: the accusatioun of adame wallace and his answeris.] "that he took upoun him to preach." he answered, "that he never judged himself worthy of sa excellent a vocatioun, and tharefoir he never took upoun him to preach; but he wold not deny, butt sometymes at the table, and sometymes in other prevey places, he wald reid, and had red the scriptures, and had gevin such exhortatioun as god pleaseth to geve to him, to such as pleased to hear him." [sn: the papisticall maner of accusatioun.] "knave, (quod ane,) what have ye to do to medle with the scriptures?" "i think, (said he,) it is the dewitie of everie christiane to seak the will of his god, and the assurance of his salvatioun, whare it is to be found, and that is within his old and new testament." "what then, (said ane other,) shall we leave to the bischoppis and kirkmen to do, yf everie man shalbe a babler upoun the byble?" "it becumith[ ] yow, (said he,) to speak more reverentlie of god, and of his blessed worde: yf the judge war uncorrupt, he wald punish yow for your blasphemye. but to your questioun, i answer, that albeit ye and i, and other fyve thowsand within this realme, should read the byble, and speak of it what god should geve us to speak, yitt left we more to the bischoppes to do, nor eyther thei will or yit can weill do; for we leave to thame publictly to preach the evangell of jesus christ, and to fead the flock, which he hath redeamed by his awin bloode, and hes commanded the same to the cayre of all trew pastouris. and when we leave this unto thame, me think we leave to thame a heavy burdein; and that we do unto thame na wrong, althowght we search our awin salvatioun whare it is to be found, considdering that thei ar but dum doggis, and unsavery salt, that hes altogither lost the seasson." the bischoppes heirat offended, said, "what pratting is this? lett his accusatioun be redd." and than was begun, "false tratour, heretik, thow baptised thy awin barne: thow said, thare is no purgatorie: thow said, that to pray to sanctes and for the dead is idolatrie and a vane superstitioun, &c. what sayis thow of these thinges?" he answered, "yf i should be bound to answer, i wold requyre an uprycht and indifferent judge." the erle of hunteley[ ] disdanefullie said, "foolishe man, wilt thow desyre ane uther judge nor my lorde dukis grace, great governour of scotland, and my lordis the bischoppes, and the clargy hear present?" whairto he answered, "the bischoppes can be no judges to me; for thei ar oppen ennemyes to me and to the doctrin that i professe. and as for my lord duck, i can not tell yf he hes the knowledge that should be in him that should judge and decerne betuix lyes and the trewth, the inventionis of men and the trew wirschipping of god. i desyre goddis word (and with that he produced the byble) to be judge betuix the bischoppes and me, and i am content that ye all hear, and yf by this book, i salbe convict to have tawght, spokin, or done, in materis of religioun, any thing that repugnes to goddis will, i refuise not to dye; but yf i can nott be convict, (as i am assured by goddis woord i sall nott,) then i in goddis name desyre your assistance, that malicious men execut not upoun me injust tyranny." the erle of hunteley said, "what a babling foole is this? thow shalt gett none other judges then those that sitt heir." wharunto the said adam ansured, "the good will of god be done. but be ye assured, my lord, with sic measur as ye mett to otheris, with the same measur it shalbe mett to yow agane. i know that i shall dye, but be ye assured, that my blood shalbe requyred of your handis." [sn: protestatioun of the erle of glencarne.] alexander erle of glencarne,[ ] yitt alyve, said to the bischope of orknay,[ ] and otheris that satt ney him, "tack yow yon, my lordis of the clargye;[ ] for hear i protest, for my parte, that i consent nott to his death." and so, without fear, prepared the said adam to answer. and first, to the baptising of his awin child, he said, "it was and is als lauchfull to me, for lack of a trew minister, to baptise my awin child, as that it was to abraham to circumcise his sone ismael and his familie. and as for purgatorie, praying to sanctes, and for the dead, i have oft redd, (said he,) boith the new and old testamentis, but i nether could find mentioun nor assurance of thame; and tharefoir, i beleve, that thei ar but mear inventionis of men, devised for covetousnes saik." "weall, (quod the bischope,) ye hear this, my lordis." "what sayis thow of the messe?" spearis the erle of huntley. he ansuered, "i say, my lord, as my master jesus christ sayis, 'that which is in greatast estimatioun befoir men, is abomination befoir god.'" [sn: lucÆ. [ .]] then all cryed out, "heresye! heresye!" and so was the sempill servand of god adjudged to the fyre; which he patientlie susteaned that same day, at after nune, upoun the castell-hill.[ ] and so began thei agane to pollute the land, which god had laitlie plagued; for yitt thare iniquitie was nott come to so full rypnes, as that god wold that thei should be manifested to this hole realme, (as this day thei ar,) to be faggottis prepared for the everlesting fyre, and to be men whome nether plagues may correct, nor the light of goddis woorde converte from thare darknes and impietie. the peace, as said is, contracted, the quein dowager past by sea to france, with galayes,[ ] that for that purpose war prepared, and took with hir diverse of the nobilitie of scotland, to witt, the erles huntley, glencarne, marschell, cassilles, the lordis maxwell, fleyming, schir george dowglass, togither with all the kinges sonnes, and diverse baronis and gentillmen of ecclesiasticall estait, the bischope of galloway, and many otheris, with promisses that thei should be richely rewarded for thare good service. what thei receaved we can nott tell; but few maid ruse at thare returnyng. the dowager had to practise somewhat with hir brethrein, the duck of gueise, and the cardinall of lorane, the weght wharof the governour after felt: for schortly after hir returnyng, was the governour deposed of the governement, (justly by god, but most injustly by men,) and she maid regent in the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty four;[ ] and a croune putt upone hir head, als seimlye a sight, (yf men had eis,) as to putt a sadill upoun the back of ane unrewly kow. and so began she to practise practise upoun practise, how france mycht be advanced, hir freindis maid riche, and sche brought to immortall glorie: for that was hir commoun talk, "so that i may procure the wealth and honour of my freindis, and a good fame unto my self, i regard nott what god do after with me." and in verray deid, in deap dissimulatioun, to bring hir awin purpose to effect, sche passed the commoun sorte of wemen, as we will after heare. butt yit god, to whose evangell she declared hir self ennemye, in the end frustrat hir of all hir devises. [sn: the death and verteus of edward the sext.] thus did light and darknes stryve within the realme of scotland; the darknes ever befoir the world suppressing the light, from the death of that notable servand of god, maister patrik hammyltoun, unto the death of edwarde the saxt, that most godly and most verteous king that hath bein knowin to have rounge in england, or elles whare, these many yearis bypast, who departed the miserie of this lyef the vj of julij, anno, &c., . the death of this prince was lamented of all the godly within europe; for the graces gevin unto him of god, as weall of nature as of eruditioun and godlines, passed the measur that accustomablye useth to be gevin to other princes in thare grettast perfectioun, and yitt exceaded he nott sextein yearis of aige. what gravitie abuf age, what wisdome passing all expectatioun of man,[ ] and what dexteritie in answering in all thingis proponed, war into that excellent prince, the ambassadouris of all countreeis, (yea, some that war mortall ennemyes to him and to his realme, amonges whome the quein dowager of scotland was not the least,) could and did testifie; for the said quein dowager, returnyng from france throwght england, commoned with him at lenth,[ ] and gave record when sche came to this realme, "that sche fand more wisdome and solidd judgement in young king edward, then she wold have looked for in any three princes that war then in europe." his liberalitie towardis the godly and learned, that war in other realmes persecuted, was such as germanes, frenchmen, italianes, scottis, spainzardis, polonianes, grecianis, and hebrewis borne, can yitt geve sufficient document; for how honorablie war martyn buceir,[ ] petir martyre, joannes alasco, ...[ ] emanuel gualterus,[ ] and many otheris, upoun his publict stipendis interteaned, thare patentis can witnesse, and thei thame selfis during thare lyffis wold never have denyed. after the death of this most verteous prince, of whome the godless people of england, (for the most parte,) was nott worthy, sathan intended nothing less then the light of jesus christ utterly to have bein extinguissed, within the hole ile of britannye; for after him was rased up, in goddis hote displeasur, that idolatress jesabel, mischevous marie, of the spaynyardis bloode;[ ] a cruell persecutrix of goddis people, as the actes of hir unhappy regne can sufficiently witnesse.[ ] and in to scotland, that same tyme, (as we have hard,[ ]) rang that crafty practisar, marie of lorane, then named regent of scotland; who, bound to the devotioun of hir two brethrein, the duck of gueise, and cardinall of lorane, did onlye abyd the oportunitie to cutt the throttis of all those in whome she suspected any knowledge of god to be, within the realme of scotland. and so thought sathan, that his kingdome of darkness was in qwietness and rest, asweall in the one realme, as in the other: but that provident eie of the eternall our god, who continually watches for preservatioun of his church, did so dispone all thingis, that sathane schorte after fand him self far disapointed of his conclusioun tackin. for in that cruell persecutioun, used by that monstour, marie of england, war godlie men dispersed in diverse nationis, of whom it pleaseth the goodnes of our god to send some unto us, for our conforte and instructioun. [sn: who first after the death of king edwarde begane to preach in scotland.] and first cam a sempill man, williame harlaw,[ ] whose eruditioun, althowght it excell nott, yit for his zeill, and diligent plainess in doctrin, is he to this day worthy of praise, and remanes a fruitfull member within the church of scotland. after him cam that notable man, johne willok,[ ] as one that had some commissioun to the quein regent, from the duchess of emden. butt his principall purpose was to assay what god wald wirk by him in his native countrey. these two did sometymes, in severall cumpanyes, assemble the brethrein, who by thare exhortationis begane greatlie to be encoraged, and did schaw that thei had ane earnest thrist of godlines. [sn: elizabeth adamesoun and hir death.] and last came johne knox,[ ] in the end of the harvest, in the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty fyve; who first being loodged in the house of that notable man of god, james syme, begane to exhorte secreatly in that same house; whareunto repared the lard of dun, david forress, and some certane personages of the toune, amonges whome was elizabeth adamsoun, then spous to james barroun,[ ] burges of edinburgh, who be reasson that she had a trubled conscience, delyted much in the cumpany of the said johne, becaus that he, according to the grace gevin unto him, opened more fullie the fontane of goddis mercyes, then did the commoun sorte of teachearis that sche had hard befoir, (for sche had heard none except freiris,) and did with such gredynes drynk thairof, that at hir death she did expresse the frute of hir hearing, to the great conforte of all those that repared to hir; for albeit that she sufferred most grevous torment in hir body, yitt out of hir mouth was heard nothing but praising of god, except that somtymes she wold lament the trubles of those that war trubled by hir. being somtymes demanded by hir sisteris, "what she thought of that pane, which she than sufferred in body, in respect of that wharewith sometymes she was trubled in spreit?" she ansuered, "a thowsand year of this torment, and ten tymes more joyned unto it, is not to be compared to the qwarter of ane hour that i sufferred in my spreit. i thank my god, throught jesus christ, that hes delivered me from that most fearfull pane; and welcome be this, evin so long as it pleassed his godlie majestie to exercise me thairwith." a litill befoir hir departuyre, she desyred hir sisteris, and some otheris that war besyd hir, to sing a psalme, and amonges others, she appointed the . psalme, begynnyng, "my saule praise thow the lord alwyes;"[ ] which ended, sche said, "at the teaching of this psalme, begane my trubled soule first effectually to taist of the mercy of my god, which now to me is more sweat and precious, then[ ] all the kingdomes of the earth war gevin to me to possesse thame a thowsand yearis." the preastis urged hir with thare ceremonies and superstitionis; to whome she answered, "depart from me, ye sergeantis[ ] of sathan; for i have refused, and in your awin presence do refuise, all your abominationis. that which ye call your sacrament and christes body, (as ye have deceaved us to beleve in tymes past,) is nothing but ane idole, and hes nothing to do with the rycht institutioun of jesus christ; and thairfor, in goddis name, i command yow nott to truble me." thei departed, allegeing, that she raved, and wist not what sche said. and she short thereafter sleapt in the lord jesus, to no small conforte of those that saw hir blessed departing. this we could nott omitt of this wourthy woman, who gave sa notable a confessioun, befoir that the great lycht of goddis word did universallie schyne throwght this realme. at the first cuming of the said johne knox, he perceaving diverse who had a zeall to godlynes maik small scrupill to go to the messe, or to communicat with the abused sacramentis in the papisticall maner, begane alsweall in privy conferance as in doctrin, to schaw the impietie of the messe, and how dangerous a thing it was to communicat in any sort with idolatrie. wharewith the conscience of some being effrayed, the mater began to be agitat fra man to man, and so was the said johne called to suppar by the lard of dun, for that same purpose, whare war conveaned david forress, maister robert lockart, johne willock, and williame maitland of lethingtoun youngar, a man of good learnyng, and of scharpe witt and reassonyng. the questioun was proponed, and it was answered by the said johne, "that no-wyise it was lauchfull to a christiane to present him self to that idoll." nothing was omitted that mycht maik for the temperisar,[ ] and yitt was everie head so fullie ansuered, and especially one whairinto thei thought thare great defence stood, to wit, "that paule at the commandiment of james, and of the eldaris of jerusalem, passed to the tempill and fanzeid him self to pay his vow with otheris." this, we say, and otheris, war so fullye ansuered, that williame maitland concluded, saying, "i see perfytlye, that our schiftis will serve nothing befoir god, seing that thei stand us in so small stead befoir man." the answer of johne knox to the fact of paule, and to the commandiment of james, was, "that paule's fact had nothing to do with thare going to the messe; for to pay vowes was sometymes goddis commandiment, and was never idolatrie: but thare messe, from the originall, was and remaned odiouse idolatrie; tharefor the factes war moist unlyik. secundarly, (said he,) i greatly dowbt whitther eyther james's commandiment or paule's obedience proceaded frome the holy ghost. we knaw thare counsall tended to this, that paule should schaw him self one that observed the verray small pointes of the law, to the end that he mycht purchase to him the favouris of the jewes, who war offended at him be reassone of the bruittis that war sparsed, that he tawght defectioun from moses. now, whill he obeyed thare counsall, he fell into the most disperat danger that ever he susteaned befor, whareof it was evident, that god approved nott that meane of reconciliatioun; but rather that he plainelie declaired, 'that evill should not be done that good mycht come of it.' evill it was to paule to confirme those obstinat jewes in thare superstitioun by his exampill; worse it was to him to expone him self, and the doctrin which befoir he had tawght, to sklander and mockage; and tharefoir, (concluded the said johne,) that the fact of paule, and the seqwell that tharof followed, appeired rather to feght against thame that wold go to the messe, than to geve unto thame any assurance to follow his example, onless that thei wold, that the lyik truble should instantlye apprehend thame that apprehended him, for obeying worldly wyise counsall." after these and lyik reassonynges, the messe began to be abhorred of such as befoir used it for the fassioun, and avoiding of sclander, (as then thei termed it.) johne knox, at the request of the lard of dun,[ ] followed him to his place of dun, whare he remaned a moneth, dalye exercised in doctrin, whairunto resorted the principall men of that countrey. after his returnyng, his residence was most in calder,[ ] whare repared unto him the lord erskin that now is,[ ] the erle of argyle, then lord of lorne,[ ] and lord james, then priour of sanctandrois,[ ] and now erle of murray; whare thei hard and so approved his doctrin, that thei wissed it to have bein publict. that same wynter[ ] he tawght commonly in edinburgh; and after the youle, by the conduct of the lard of barr, and robert campbell of kingyeancleucht, he came to kyle,[ ] and tawght in the barr, in the house of the carnell, in the kingyeancleuch, in the toune of air, and in the houssis of uchiltrie, and gathgyrth, and in some of thame ministrat the lordis table. befoir the pasche,[ ] the erle of glencarne send for him to his place of fynlastoun;[ ] whare, after doctrin, he lyikwiese ministrat the lordis table, whairof besydis him self war parttakaris, his lady, two of his sonnis, and certane of his freindis; and so returned he to calder, whare diverse frome edinburgh, and frome the countrey about, convened, asweall for the doctrin, as for the rycht use of the lordis table, which befoir thei had never practised. from thense he departed the secound tyme to the lard of dun; and teiching then in grettar libertie, the gentilmen required that he should ministrat lyikwiese unto thame the table of the lord jesus, whairof war partakaris the moist parte of the gentilmen of the mernse; who, god be praised, to this day constantlie do remane in the same doctrin which then thei professed, to witt, that thei refuissed all societie with idolatrie, and band thame selfis,[ ] to the uttermost of thare poweris, to manteane the trew preaching of the evangell of jesus christ, as god should offer unto thame preachearis and oportunitie. the bruyt heirof sparsed, (for the freiris from all qwarteris flokked to the bischoppes,) the said johne knox was summond to compeir in the kirk of the black freiris in edinburgh, the xv day of maij [ ,] which day the said johne decread to keape; and for that purpose johne erskin of dun, with diverse otheris gentilmen, convened to the toune of edinburgh. butt that dyet held nott; for whitther that the bischoppis perceaved informalitie in thare awin proceidyngis, or yf thei feared danger to ensew upoun thare extremitie, it was unknown unto us. but the setterday befoir the day appointed, thei caist thare awin summondis; and the said johne, the same day of the summondis, tawght in edinburgh in a greattar audience then ever befoir he had done in that toune: the place was the bischope of dunkellis his great loodgeing, whare he continewed in doctrin ten dayis, boyth befoir and after nune. the erle of glencarne allured the erle merschall,[ ] who with harye drummound,[ ] (his counsallour for that tyme,) heard ane exhortation, (but it was upone the nycht,) who war so weall contented with it, that thei boyth willed the said johne to wrait unto the quein regent somwhat that mycht move hir to heir the word of god. he obeyed thare desyre, and wrait that which after was imprinted, and is called "the letter to the quein dowager;"[ ] which was delivered into hir awin handis by the said alexander erle of glencarne. which letter, when sche had redd, within a day or two, she delivered it to that proud prelate, betoun,[ ] bischope of glasgw, and said in mockage, "please yow, my lord, to reid a pasqwill." which woordis cuming to the earis of the said johne, war the occasioun that to his letter he maid his additionis,[ ] as yitt may be sein. [sn: _nota._] as concernyng the threatnyngis pronunccd against hir awin persone, and the most principale of hir freindis, lett thare verray flatteraris see what hath failled of all that he hes writtin. and tharefor it war expedient that hir dochtter, now mischevouslye rynging, should look to that which hath passed befoir, least that in following the counsallis of the wicked, she end more miserablie then hir crafty mother did. whill johne knox was thus occupyed in scotland, letteris came unto him from the engliss kirk that was assembled in geneva, (which was separated from that superstitious and contentious cumpany that war at franckfoord,) commanding him in goddis name, as he that was thare chosin pastor, to repayre unto thame, for thare conforte. upone the which, the said johne took his leave from us, almost in everie congregatioun whare befor he had preached, and exhorted us to prayaris, to reading of the scriptures, and mutuall conference, unto such tyme as god should geve unto us grettar libertie. and hearupon he send befoir him to deape, his mother in law elizabeth bowes,[ ] and his wyef marjory, with no small dolour to thare hartes, and unto many of us. he him self, by procurement and laubouris of robert campbell of kingzeanclewch,[ ] remaned behynd in scotland, and passed to the old erle of ergyle,[ ] who then was in the castell of campbell,[ ] whare he tawght certane dayis. the lard of glenurquhare,[ ] (which yit liveth,) being one of his auditouris, willed the said erle of ergyle to reateane him still; but he, purposed upoun his jorney, wold not att that tyme stay for no requeast, adding, "that yf god so blessed thei small begynnynes, that thei continewed in godlyness, whensoever thei pleased to command him, thei should fynd him obedient;" but said, "that ones he must neadis visit that lytill flock which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave." and so in the moneth of julij he left this realme, and past to france, and so to geneva. immediatly after, the bischoppis summoned him, and for none compeirance, brunt him in effigie at the croce of edinburgh, in the year of god .[ ] fra the which injust sentence the said johnne maid his appellatioun, and caused to print the same, and direct it to the nobilitie and commounes of scotland,[ ] as yitt may be redd. [sn: warr against england by the meanes of quein regent.] in[ ] the wynter that the said johne aboad in scotland, appeired a comet, the course whairof was from the south and south-west, to the north and north-east. it was sein the monethis of november, december, and januare. it was called "the fyrie boosome."[ ] sune after dyed christierne, king of denmark: and warr raise betuix scotland and england; for the commissionaris of boyth realmes, who almost the space of sex monethis entraitted upoun the conditionis of peace, and war upoun a neyr point of conclusioun [war disappointed.] the quein regent with hir counsall of the french factioun decreatted war at newbattil,[ ] without geving any advertisment to the commissionaris for the parte of scotland. such is the fidelitie of princes, guyded by preastis, when soever thei seik thare awin affectionis to be served. [sn: a calf with two headis.] in the end of that nixt harvest, was sein upoun the bordouris of england and scotland a strange fyre, which discended from the heavin, and brunt diverse cornes in boyth the realmes, but most in england. thare was presented to the quein regent, by robert ormestoun, a calf having two headdis, whareat sche scripped, and said, "it was but a commoun thing." the warr begane in the end of the harvest, as said is, and conclusioun was tackin that wark[ ] should be asseged. the army and ordinance past fordwarte to maxwell heucht.[ ] the quein regent remaned in the castell of home,[ ] and thinking that all thingis war in assurance, monsieur dosell, then lieutenant for france, gave charge that the cannonis should be transported ower the watter of twead, which was done with expeditioun, (for the french in such factes ar experte;) [sn: the fact of the nobilitie of scotland at maxwell hewcht.] but the nobilitie of scotland nothing content of such proceadingis, after consultatioun amongis thame selfis, past to the palzeon[ ] of monsieur dosell, and in his awin face declared, "that in no wiese wald thei invade england," and tharefoir command the ordinance to be reteired; and that it was, without farther delay.[ ] this putt ane effray in monsieur dosell his breathe,[ ] and kendilled such a fyre in the quein regentis stomak, as was nott weall slockened till hir braith failled. and thus was that enterprise frustrate. butt yitt warre continewed, during the which the evangell of jesus christ begane wonderouslye to floriss; for in edinburgh begane publictlie to exhorte, williame harlaw; johnne dowglass,[ ] who had (being with the erle of ergyle) preached in leyth, and sometymes exhorted in edinburgh; paule meaffen begane publictly to preach in dondye; and so did diverse otheris in anguss and the mernse. [sn: the secund returne of johne willok to scotland.] and last, at goddis good pleasur, arryved johnne wyllok the secound tyme from emden;[ ] whose returne was so joyfull to the brethrein, that thare zeall and godly courage daly encreassed. and albeit he contracted a dangerous seaknes, yitt he ceassed nott from laubouris, but tawght and exhorted from his bed: some of the nobilitie, [sn: lord setoun ane apostat.] (of whome some ar fallen back, amongis whome the lord setoun[ ] is cheaf,) with many baronis and gentilmen, war his auditouris, and by him war godly instructed, and wonderouslie conforted. thei keapt thare conventionis, and held counsallis with such gravitie and closnes, that the ennemyes trembled. [sn: the abolishing of images and trudle tharefoir.] the images war stollen away in all partes of the countrie; and in edinburgh was that great idole called sanct geyle,[ ] first drouned in the north loch,[ ] after brunt, which rased no small truble in the toun. for the freiris rowping lyik reavins upoun the bischoppes, the bischoppes ran upoun the quein, who to thame was favorable yneweh, but that she thowght it could not stand with hir advantage to offend such a multitud as then took upon thame the defence of the evangell, and the name of protestantes. [sn: the preacharis summoned.] and yitt consented sche to summond the preachearis; whareat the protestantis neyther offended, neyther yitt thairof effrayed, determined to keape the day of summondis,[ ] as that thei did. [sn: the practise of prelattis, and what thairof ensewed.] which perceaved by the prelattis and preastis, thei procured a proclamatioun to be publictlie maid, "that all men that war come to the toune without commandiment of the authoritie, should with all diligence repayre to the bordouris, and thare remane xv dayis:" for the bischope of galloway,[ ] in this maner of ryme, said to the quein, "madame, becaus thei ar come without ordour, i red ye, send thame to the bordour." [sn: the bold wourdis of james chalmeris of gaithgyrth.] now so had god provided, that the qwarter of the west-land, (in to the which war many faythfull men,) was that same day returned from the bordour; who understanding the mater to procead from the malice of the preastis, assembled thame selfis together, and maid passage to thame selfis, till thei came to the verray prevey chalmer, whare the quein regent and the bischoppes war. the gentilmen begane to complane upoun thare strange intertenement, considdering that hir grace had found into thame so faithfull obedience in all thingis lauchfull. whill that the quein begane to craft, a zelous and a bold man, james chalmeris of gaitgyrth,[ ] said, "madame, we know that this is the malice and devise of thei jefwellis, and of that bastard, (meanyng the bischope of sanctandrois,) that standis by yow: we avow to god we shall maik ane day of it. thei oppresse us and our tennantis for feading of thare idill bellyes: thei truble our preacheris, and wold murther thame and us: shall we suffer this any longare? na, madame: it shall nott be." and tharewith everie man putt on his steill bonet. thare was hard nothing of the quenis parte but "my joyes, my hartes, what ailes yow? me[ ] meanes no evill to yow nor to your preachearis. the bischoppes shall do yow no wrong. ye ar all my loving subjectes. me knew nathing of this proclamatioun. the day of your preachearis shalbe discharged, and me will hear the controversie that is betuix the bischoppes and yow. thei shall do yow no wrong. my lordis," said she to the bischoppes, "i forbid yow eyther to truble thame or thare preachearis." [sn: o crafty flatterar!] and unto the gentilmen who war wonderouslye commoved, she turned agane, and said, "o my heartis, should ye nott love the lord your god with all your harte, with all your mynd? and should ye nott luif your nychtbouris as your selfis?" with these and the lyik fair wordis, she keapt the bischoppes from buffattis at that tyme. [sn: the command of the bischoppis.] and so the day of summondis being discharged, begane the brethrein universallie to be farther encoraged. but yit could the bischoppes in no sorte be qwyet; for sanct geillis day approcheing, thei gave charge to the provest, baillies, and counsall of edinburgh, eyther to gett agane the ald sanct geile, or ellis upoun thaire expenssis to maik ane new image. [sn: the answer of edinburgh.] the counsall answered, "that to thame the charge appeired verray injust; for thei understood that god in some plaices had commanded idolles and images to be distroyed; but whare he had commanded ymages to be sett up, thei had nott redd; and desyred the bischope to fynd a warrant for his commandiment." [sn: edinburgh appelled from the sentence of the bischope of sanctandrose.] whareat the bischope offended, admonissed under pane of curssing; which thei prevented by a formall appellatioun;[ ] appelling from him, as from a parciall and corrupt judge, unto the pape's holynes; and so grettar thingis schortly following, that passed in oblivioun. yit wold nott the preastis and freiris cease to have that great solempnitie and manifest abhominatioun which thei accustomablie had upoun sanct geillis day,[ ] to witt, thei wold have that idole borne; and tharefor was all preparatioun necessar deuly maid. a marmouset idole was borrowed fra the gray freiris, (a silver peise of james carmichaell[ ] was laid in pledge:) it was fast fixed with irne nailles upon a barrow, called thare fertour. [sn: triumph for bearing of stock geill.] thare assembled preastis, frearis, channonis, and rottin papistes, with tabornes and trumpettis, banerris and bage-pypes, and who was thare to led the ring, but the quein regent hir self, with all hir schaivelingis, for honour of that feast. west about goes it, and cumis doun the hie streat, and doun to the canno croce.[ ] the quein regent dyned that day in sandie carpetyne's housse, betuix the bowes,[ ] and so when the idole returned back agane, sche left it, and past in to hir dennar. the heartes of the brethrein war wonderouslie inflammed, and seing such abominatioun so manifestlie manteaned, war decreed to be revenged. thei war devided in severall cumpanyes, wharof not one knew of ane other. thare war some temperisaris that day, (amonges whome david forress, called the generall,[ ] was one,) who, fearing the chance to be dune as it fell, laubored to stay the brethrein. butt that could not be; for immediatlie after that the quein was entered in the loodgeing, some of those that war of the interprise drew ney to the idole, as willing to helpe to bear him, and getting the fertour upon thare schulderis, begane to schudder, thinking that thairby the idole should have fallin. [sn: the douncasting of stock geill, and disconfitur of baalis preastis.] but that was provided and prevented by the irne nailles, as we have said; and so, begane one to cry "doun with the idole; doun with it;" and so without delay it was pulled doun. some brag maid the preastis patrons at the first; but when thei saw the febilness of thare god, (for one took him by the heillis, and dadding his head to the calsay, left dagon without head or handis, and said, "fye upon thee, thow young sanct geile, thy father wold haif taryed four such:") this considdered, (we say,) the preastis and freiris fled faster then thei did at pynckey clewcht.[ ] thare mycht have bein sein so suddane a fray as seildome hes bein sein amonges that sorte of men within this realme; for doun goes the croses, of goes the surpleise, round cappes cornar with the crounes. the gray freiris gapped, the blak frearis blew, the preastis panted, and fled, and happy was he that first gate the house; for such ane suddan fray came never amonges the generatioun of antichrist within this realme befoir. [sn: a meary englisman.] by chance thare lay upoun a stare a meary englissman, and seing the discomfiture to be without blood, thought he wold add some mearynes to the mater, and so cryed he ower a stayr, and said, "fy upoun yow, hoorsones, why have ye brockin ordour! doun the streat ye passed in array and with great myrth. why flie ye, vilanes, now, without ordour? turne and stryk everie one a strok for the honour of his god. fy, cowardis, fy, ye shall never be judged worthy of your wages agane!" but exhortationis war then unprofitable; for after that bell had brokin his neck, thare was no conforte to his confused army. the quein regent lade up this amonges hir other mementoes, till that sche mycht have sein the tyme proper to have revenged it. search was maid for the doaris, but none could be deprehended; for the brethrein assembled thame selfis in such sorte, in companyes, synging psalmes, and prasing god, that the proudast of the ennemies war astonied. [sn: the death of the bischope of galloway, and his last confessioun.] this tragedy of sanct geill was so terrible to some papistes, that dury, sometymes called for his filthines abbot stottikin, and then intitulat bischope of galloway,[ ] left his rymyng wharewith he was accustumed, and departed this lyef, evin as that he leved: for the articles of his beleve war; "i referr: decarte yow: ha, ha, the four kinges and all maid: the devill go with it: it is but a varlett: fra france we thought to have gottin a rooby;[ ] and yit is he nothing but a cowhuby." [sn: the vow of that marked beast dury bischope of galloway.] with such faith and such prayeris, departed out of this lyeff that ennemy of god, who had vowed and plainelie said, "that in dispyte of god, so long as thei that then war prelattis lyved, should that word (called the evangell) never be preached within this realme." [sn: the death of david panter.] after him followed that belly-god, maister david panter,[ ] called bischope of ross, evin with the lyik documentis, exceapt that he departed eatting and drynking, which, togitther with the rest that tharupoun dependis, was the pastyme of his lyef. [sn: the death of the bischope of orknay, reid.] the most parte of the lordis that war in france at the quenis mariage, althought that thei gat thare congie fra the courte, yit thei forget to returne to scotland.[ ] for whitther it was by ane italiane posset, or by french fegges, or by the potage of thare potingar, (he was a french man,) thare departed fra this lyef the erle of cassilles,[ ] the erle of rothose,[ ] lord flemyng,[ ] and the bischope of orknay, whose end was evin according to his lyfe:[ ] for after that he was dryvin back by a contrarious wynd, and forced to land agane at deape, perceaving his seiknes to encrease, he caused maik his bed betuix his two cofferis, (some said upoun thame:) such was his god, the gold that tharein was inclosed, that he could not departe tharefra, so long as memorie wold serve him. the lord james, then priour of sanctandrois, had (by all appearance) lyked of the same bust[ ] that dispatched the rest, for thareof to this day his stomack doeth testifie: but god preserved him for a bettir purpose. this same lord james, now erle of murray, and the said bischope, war commonlye at debate for materis of religioun; and tharefoir the said lord, hearing of the bischoppis disease, came to visitt him, and fynding him not sa weall at a point as he thowght he should have bein, and as the honour of the country requyred, said unto him, "fy, my lord, how ly ye so? will ye not go to your chalmer, and not ly hear into this commoun house?" [sn: orknayis answer, and his freindis whome.] his answer was, "i am weall whare i am, my lord, so long as i can tary; for i am neir unto my freindis, (meanyng his cofferis and the gold tharein.) but, my lord, (said he,) long have ye and i bein in pley for purgatory: i think that i shall know or it be long whetther thare be such a place or not." whill the other did exhorte him to call to mynd the promisses of god, and the vertew of christis death; he answered, "nay, my lord, lett me allon; for ye and i never aggreid in our lyiff, and i think we shall nott aggree now at my death; and tharefor lett me allone." the said lord james departed to his loodgeing, and the other schort after departed this lyef; whitther, the great day of the lord will declare. [sn: the quein regentis sentence of the death of hir papistis.[ ]] when the word of the departing of so many patrons of the papistrye, and of the maner of thare departing, cam unto the quein regent, after astonisment and musing, she said, "what shall i say of such men? thei lieved as beastis, and as beastis thei dye: god is not with thame, nether with that which thei interprise." [sn: dean of restalrig, hypocrite, began to preache.] whill these thingis war in doing in scotland and france, that perfyt hipocryte maister johne sinclare, then dene of restalrige,[ ] and now lord president and bischope of brechin, begane to preache in his kirk of restalrig; and at the begynnyng held himself so indifferent, that many had opinion of him, that he was nott far from the kingdom of god. but his hypochrisie could nott long be clocked; for when he understood that such as feared god began to have a good opinioun of him, and that the freiris and otheris of that sect begane to whisper, "that yf he took not head in tyme to him self, and unto his doctrin, he wold be the destructioun of the hole estait of the kirk." this by him understand, he appointed a sermon, in the which he promissed to geve his judgement upoun all such headis as then war in controversie in the materis of religioun. the bruyte heirof maid his audience great at the first; but that day he so handilled him self, that after that, no godly man did creditt him; for not only ganesaid he the doctrin of justificatioun and of prayer which befoir he had tawght, but also he sett up and manteaned the papistrie to the uttermost prick; yea, holy watter, pilgramage, purgatory, and pardonis war of such vertew in his conceit, that without thame he looked not, to be saved. [sn: maister david panter his consall to his forsworne brethrein the bischoppis.] in this meantyme, the clargye maid a brag that thei wald disput. but maister david panter,[ ] which then lived and lay at restalrig, dissuaded thame tharefra, affirmyng, "that yf ever thei disputed, but whare thame selfis war bayth judge and party, and whare that fyre and swerd should obey thare decrie, that then thare caus was wracked for ever; for thare victorie stood neyther in god, nor in his word, but in thare awin willis, and in the thingis concluded by thare awin counsallis, (togitther with sword and fyre,) whareto, (said he,) these new starte-up fellowis will give no place. but thei will call yow to your compt booke, and that is to the bible; and by it ye will no more be found the men that ye ar called, then the devill wilbe approvin to be god. and therefor, yf ye love your selfis, enter never in disputatioun; nether yitt call ye the mater in questioun; but defend your possessioun, or ellis all is lost." cayaphas could not geve ane bettir counsall to his companizeons; but yitt god disapointed boith thame and him, as after we shall hear. * * * * * [sn: the secound vocation of johne knox by letteris of the lordis.] at this same tyme, some of the nobilitie direct thare letteris to call johne knox from geneva, for thare conforte, and for the conforte of thare brethrein the preachearis, and otheris that then couragiouslye faught against the ennemyes of goddis trewth. the tenour of thare lettre is this: _grace, mercy, and peace, for salutatioun, &c._ deirlie beloved in the lord, the faithfull that ar of your acquentance in thir partes, (thankis be unto god,) ar stedfast in the beleve whareinto ye left thame, and hes ane godly thrist and desyre, day by day, of your presence agane; quhilk, gif the spreat of god will sua move and permitt tyme unto yow, we will hartly desyre yow, in the name of the lord, that ye will returne agane in thir partes, whare ye shall fynd all faithfull that ye left behynd yow, not only glaid to hear your doctrin, but wilbe reddy to jeopard lyffis and goodis in the forward setting of the glorie of god, as he will permitt tyme. and albeit the magistraittis in this countrey be as yitt but in the staite ye left thame, yitt at the maiking heirof, we have na experience of any mair crueltie to be used nor was befoir; but rather we have beleve, that god will augment his flock, becaus we see daly the freiris, ennemyes to christis evangell, in less estimatioun, baith with the quenis grace, and the rest of the nobilitie of our realme. this in few wordis is the mynd of the faithfull, being present, and otheris absent. the rest of our myndis this faythfull berare will schaw you at lenth. this, fair ye weill in the lord. off striveling, the tent of marche, anno .[ ] (this is the trew copy of the bill, being subscrived by the names underwrittin,) _sic subscribitur_, glencarne. lorne, (now ergyle.) erskyn. james stewart. these letteris war delivered to the said johne in geneva, by the handis of james sym, who now resteth with christ, and of james barroun, that yit liveth,[ ] in the moneth of maij immediatlie tharefter. which receaved, and advised upoun, he took consultatioun alsweall with his awin church as with that notable servand of god, johne calvin, and with other godlie ministers, who all with one consent, said, "that he could nott refuise that vocatioun, onless he wald declair him self rebellious unto his god, and unmercyfull to his contrie." and so he returned answer, with promessis to visite thame with ressonable expeditioun, and so sone as he mycht putt ordour to that dear flock that was committed to his charge. and so, in the end of the nixt september after, he departed from geneva, and came to deape, whare thare mett him contrare letteris; as by this his answer thareto we may understand. _the spreit of wisdom, constancie, and strenth be multiplied with yow, by the favour of god our father, and by the grace of our lord jesus christ._ according to my promeis, rycht honorable, i came to deape, the xxiiij of october, of full mynd, by the good will of god, with the first schippes to have visited yow. bot becaus two letteris, not verray pleassing to the flesche, wer there presented unto me, i was compelled to stay for a tyme. the one was directed to myself from a faithfull brother, which maid mentioun, that new consultatioun was appointed for finall conclusioun of the mater befoir purposed, and willed me tharefoir to abyd in these partes, till the determinatioun of the same. the other letter was direct from a gentilman to a friend, with charge to advertise me, that he had communed with all those that seamed most frack and fervent in the mater, and that into none did he fynd such boldness and constancie, as was requisite for such ane interprise; bot that some did (as he writteth) reapent that ever any such thing was moved; some war partlie eschamed; and otheris war able to deny, that ever thei did consent to any such purpose, yf any triall or questioun should be tackin thareof, &c. which letteris, when i had considdered, i partlie was confounded, and partlye was persed with anguise and sorrow. confounded i was, that i had so far travelled in the mater, moving the same to the most godly and the most learned that this day we know to lyve in europe, to the effect that i mycht have thare judgements and grave counsalles, for assurance alsweall of your consciences as of myne, in all interprises: and then that nothing should succead so long consultatioun, can not but redound eyther to your schame or myne; for eyther it shall appear; that i was mervelouse vane, being so solist whare no necessitie requyred, or ellis, that such as war my moveris thareto lacked the rypnes of judgement in thare first vocatioun. to some it may appear ane small and lycht mater, that i have cast of, and as it war abandoned, alsweall my particulare care, as my publict office and charge, leaving my house and poore familie destitut of all head, save god only, and committing that small (but to christ deirlie belovit) flock, ower the which i was appointed one of the ministeris, to the charge of ane other. this, i say, to worldly men may appear a small mater, but to me it was, and yit is such, that more worldly sustance then i will expresse, could not have caused me willinglie behold the eies of so many grave men weape at ones for my caus, as that i did, in tackin of my last good nycht frome thame. to whome, yf it please god that i returne, and questioun be demanded, what was the impediment of my purposed jorney? judge yow what i shall answer. the caus of my dolour and sorrow (god is witnes) is for nothing pertenyng eyther to my corporall contentment or worldly displeasur; butt it is for the grevouse plagues and punishmentis of god, which assuredly shall apprehend nott only yow, but everie inhabitant of that miserable realme and ile, except that the power of god, by the libertie of his evangell, deliver yow from bondage. [sn: the matrimoniall croun was granted, and frenche bandis war arryved.] i meane not only that perpetuall fyre and torment, prepared for the devill, and for such as denying christ jesus and his knawin veritie, do follow the sones of wickednes to perditioun, (which most is to be feared;) butt also that thraldome and miserie shall apprehend your awin bodyes, your childrein, subjectis, and posteritie, whome ye have betrayed, (in conscience, i can except none that bear the name of nobilitie,) and presentlie do feght to betray thame and your realme to the slavrie of strangeris. the warr begune, (althocht i acknawledge it to be the wark of god,) shalbe your destructioun, unless that, be tyme, remedy be provided. god opin your eis, that ye may espy and considder your awin miserable estaite. my wordis shall appeir to some scharpe and undiscreitlie spokin; but as charitie awght to interpreit all thingis to the best, so awght wyse men to understand, that a trew friend can nott be a flatterar, especiallie when the questions of salvatioun, boith of body and saule, ar moved; and that nott of one nor of two, but as it war of a hole realme and natioun. what ar the sobbes, and what is the affectioun[ ] of my trubled heart, god shall one day declare. but this will i add to my formar rigour and severitie, to wit, yf any perswad yow, for feir of dangeris that may follow, to faint in your formar purpose, be he never esteamed so wyse and freindly, lett him be judged of yow boith foolish and your mortall ennemy: foolishe, for becaus he understandeth nothing of goddis approved wisedome; and ennemye unto yow, becaus he lauboureth to separat yow from goddis favour; provoking his vengeance and grevouse plagues against yow, becaus he wald that ye should prefer your worldly rest to goddis prase and glorie, and the freindschipe of the wicked to the salvatioun of your brethrein. [sn: lett the papistis thame selvis judge of what spreit those sentenses could procead.] "i am nott ignorant, that feirfull trubles shall ensew your enterprise, (as in my formar letters i did signifie unto yow;) but o joyfull and confortable ar those trubles and adversities, which man susteaneth for accomplishment of goddis will, reveilled by his woord! for how terrible that ever thei appear to the judgement of the naturall man, yit ar thei never able to devore nor utterlie to consume the sufferraris: for the invisible and invincible power of god susteaneth and preserveth, according to his promeis, all such as with simplicitie do obey him." the subtell craft of pharao, many years joyned wyth his bloody cruelty, was not able to destroy the male childrein of israell, nether war the watteris of the redd sea, much less the rage of pharao, able to confound moses and the cumpany which he conducted; and that because the one had goddis promisse that thei should multiplie, and the other had his commandiment to enter into such dangeris. i wold your wisedomes should considder, that our god remaneth one, and is immutable; and that the church of christ jesus hath the same promeis of protectioun and defence that israell had of multiplicatioun; and farther, that no less caus have ye to enter in your formar interprise, then moses had to go to the presence of pharao; for your subjectis, yea, your brethrein ar oppressed, thare bodyis and saules haldin in bondage: and god speaketh to your consciences, (onles ye be dead with the blynd warld,) [sn: the deutie of the nobilitie.] that yow awght to hasard your awin lyves, (be it against kingis or empriouris,) for thare deliverance; for only for that caus ar ye called princes of the people, and ye receave of your brethrein honour, tribute, and homage at goddis commandiment; not be reasson of your birth and progenye, (as the most parte of men falslie do suppose,) but by ressoun of your office and dewtie, which is to vindicat and deliver your subjectes and brethrein from all violence and oppressioun, to the uttermost of your power. [sn: that letter lost by negligence and trubles.] advise diligentlie, i beseik yow, with the pointis of that letter, which i directed to the hole nobilitie, and lett everie man apply the mater and case to him self; for your conscience shall one day be compelled to acknowledge, that the reformatioun of religioun, and of publict enormities, doith appertene to mo then to the clargie, or cheaf reularis called kingis. [sn: god grant that our nobilitie would yitt understand.] the mychtie spreit of the lord jesus rewle and guyde your counsellis, to his glorie, your eternall conforte, and to the consolatioun of your brethrene. amen. from deape, the of october . these letteris receaved and redd, togetther with otheris direct to the hole nobilitie, and some particular gentilmen, as to the lardis of dun and pettarrow, new consultatioun was had what was best to be done: and in the end it was concluded, that thei wold follow fordwart thare purpose anes intended, and wold committ thame selfis, and whatsoever god had gevin unto thame, in his handis, rather then thei wold suffer idolatrie so manifestlie to regne, and the subjectes of that realme so to be defrauded, as long thei had bein, of the only food of thare saules, the trew preaching of christes evangell. and that everie ane should be the more assured of other, a commoun band was maid, and by some subscrived, the tennour whareof followis:-- "we, perceaving how sathan in his memberis, the antichristis of our tyme, cruelly doeth rage, seaking to dounethring and to destroy the evangell of christ, and his congregatioun, aught, according to our bonden deuitie, to stryve in our maisteris caus, evin unto the death, being certane of the victorie in him. the quhilk our dewitie being weall considdered, we do promesse befoir the majestie of god, and his congregatioun, that we (be his grace,) shall with all diligence continually apply our hole power, substance, and our verray lyves, to manteane, sett fordward, and establish the most blessed word of god and his congregatioun; and shall laubour at our possibilitie to have faythfull ministeris purely and trewlie to minister christis evangell and sacramentes to his people. we shall manteane thame, nuriss thame, and defend thame, the haill congregatioun of christ, and everie membour thairof, at our haill poweris and waring of our lyves, against sathan, and all wicked power that does intend tyranny or truble against the foirsaid congregatioun. onto the quhilk holy woord and congregatioun we do joyne us, and also dois forsaike and renunce the congregatioun of sathan, with all the superstitious abominatioun and idolatrie thareof: and moreover, shall declare our selfis manifestlie ennemies thairto, be this oure faithfull promesse befoir god, testifeid to his congregatioun, be our subscriptionis at thir presentis:-- "at edinburgh, the thrid day of december, the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty sevin yearis: god called to witnesse.[ ] (_sic subscribitur_,) a. erle of ergile. glencarne. morton. archibald lord of lorne. johnne erskyne of doun.[ ] _et cetera_. [sn: the third vocatioun of johne knox by the lordis and churche of scotland.] befoir a litill that this band was subscryved, by the foirwrittin and many otheris, letteris war direct agane to johne knox fra the said lordis, togitther with thare letteris to maister calvin, craving of him, that by his authoritie he wold command the said johne anes agane to visit thame. these letteris war delivered by the handis of maister johne gray,[ ] in the moneth of november, the yeir of god j^m. v^c. fyfty awght, who at that same tyme past to rome for expeditioun of the bowes[ ] of ross to maister henry sinclare.[ ] immediatlie after the subscriptioun of this foirsaid band, the lordis and barons professing christ jesus, conveined frequentlie in counsall; in the which these headis war concluded:-- first, it is thought expedient, devised, and ordeaned, that in all parochines of this realme the commoun prayeris[ ] be redd owklie on sounday, and other festuall dayis, publictlie in the paroche kirkis, with the lessonis of the new and old testament, conforme to the ordour of the book of common prayeris: and yf the curattis of the parochynes be qualified, to cause thame to reid the samyn; and yf thei be nott, or yf thei refuise, that the maist qualifeid in the parish use and read the same. secoundly, it is thought necessare, that doctrin, preacheing, and interpretatioun of scriptures be had and used privatlie in qwyet houssis, without great conventionis of the people tharto, whill afterward that god move the prince to grant publict preacheing be faithfull and trew ministeris. * * * * * these two headis concernyng the religioun, and some otheris concernyng the polecy, being concluded, the old erle of ergile took the mantenance of johne dowglass, caused him preache publictlie in his hous, and reformed many thingis according to his consall. the same boldness took diverse otheris, alsweall within townes as to landwarte; which did not a litle truble the bischoppis and quein regent, as by this lettre and credite, committed to sir david hammyltoun [ ] fra the bischope of sanctandrois to the said erle of ergile, may be clearlic understand. the bischoppis letter to the old erle of ergyle. my lord, after maist hartlie commendatioun. this is to advertise your lordship, we have direct this berar, our cousing, towart your lordschipis, in sick besynes and effaris as concernes your lordschipis honour, proffeitt, and great weall; lyk as the said berar will declare your lordsehipe at mare lenth. praying your lordschipe effectuously to adverte thairto, and geve attendance to us, your lordschipis freindis, that ay hes willed the honour, proffeit, and uter wealth of your lordschipis house, as of our awin; and credite to the berar. and jesu haif your lordschipe in everlesting keaping. of edinburgh, the xxv day of merche, anno . (_sic subscribitur_,) your lordschippes att all power, j. sanctandrois. followis the credite.--memorandum to schir david hammyltoun, to my lord erle of ergile, in my behalf, and lett him see and heare everie articule. _in primis_, to repeit the ancient blood of his house, how long it hes stand, how notable it hes bein, and so many noble men hes bein erles, lordis, and knychtis thairof; how long thei have rong in thei partes, ever trew and obedient bayth to god and the prince, without any smote to thir dayis in any maner of sorte: and to remember how many notable men ar cuming of his house. secoundly, to schaw him the great affectioun i bear towardis him, his blood, house, and freindis, and of the ardent desyre i have of the perpetuall standing of it in honour and fame, with all thame that ar come of it: quhilk is my parte for many and diverse caussis, as ye shall schaw. thridly, to schaw my lord, how havy and displeasing[ ] it is to me now to hear, that he, wha is and hes bein sa noble a man, should be seduced and abused by the flattery of sick ane infamet person of the law[ ] and mensworne apostate, that under the pretense that he geves him self furth as a preachcar of the evangell and veritie, under that cullour settis furth schismes and divisionis in the haly kirk of god, with hereticall propositions, thinkand that under his mantenance and defence, to infect this countrey with heresy, perswading my said lord and otheris his barnes and freindis, that all that he speakis is scripture, and conforme thairto, albeit that many of his propositionis ar many yearis past condempned be generall counsallis and the haill estaite of christiane people. . to schaw to my lord, how perrelous this is to his lordschip and his house, and decay thareof, in caise the authoritie wold be scharpe, and wold use conforme bayth to civile and cannon, and als your awin municipall law of this realme. . to schaw his lordschipe, how wa[ ] i wold be eyther to hear, see, or knaw any displeasur that mycht come to him, his sone, or any of his house, or freindis, and especiallie in his awin tyme and dayis; and als how great displeasur i have ellis to hear great and evill bruyte of him, that should now in his aige, in a maner vary in[ ] his fayth; and to be alterat tharein, when the tyme is that he should be maist suir and firme thairin. . to schaw his lordschipe, that thare is dilatioun of that man, called dowglass or grant, of syndrie articules of heresye, quhilk lyes to my charge and conscience to put remeady to, or ellis all the pestilentious doctrin he sawes, and siclyik all that ar corrupt be his doctrin, and all that he drawes fra our fayth and christiane religioun, will ly to my charge afoir god, and i to be accused befoir god for ower seing of him, yf i putt nott remedy tharto, and correct him for sick thingis he is delaited of. and tharefor that my lord considder, and weay it weall, how heychtlie it lyes bayth to my honour and conscience: for yf i thole him, i wilbe accused for all thame that he infectis and corruptis in heresye. heirfor, i pray my lord, in my maist hartly manor, to tack this mater in the best parte, for his awin conscience, honour, and weall of him self, hous, freindis, and servandis; and sick lyik for my parte, and for my conscience and honour, that considdering that thare ar diverse articules of heresey to be laid to him that he is delated of, and that he is presentlie in my lordis cumpany, that my lord wold, be some honest way, departe with this man, and putt him fra him and fra his sonnes cumpanye; for i wold be richt sory that any being in any of thare cumpanyes should be called for sick causses, or that any of thame should be bruited to hold any sick men. and this i wold advertise my lord, and have his lordschippis answer and resolutioun, ere any summondis passed upoun him, togitther with my lordis answer. _item_, yf my lord wald have a man to instruct him trewlie in the fayth, and preache to him, i wold provide a cunning man to him, wharefoir i shall answer for his trew doctrin, and shall putt my saule tharefoir, that he shall teach nathing but trewly according to our catholik faith. off edinburgh, this last of merch, . (_sic subscribitur_,) j. sanctandrois.[ ] [sn: flesche and blood is preferred to god with the bischope.] _item_, attour, your lordschipe shall draw to good remembrance, and wey the great and havye murmur against me, bayth be the quenis grace, the kirk men, spirituall and temporall estaitis, and weall gevin people, meanyng, crying, and murmuring me greattumlie, that i do nott my office to thole sick infamouse persons with sick perversett doctrin, within my diosey and this realme, be ressoun of my legasey and primacey;[ ] quhilkis i have rather susteaned and long sufferred, for the great luif that i had to your lordschip and posteritie, and your freindis, and your house; als beleving suyrly your lordschippis wisedom should not have manteaned and mulled with sick thingis that mycht do me dishonour or displeasur, considdering i being reddy to have putt good ordour thairto alwayes; but hes allanerlie absteaned, for the luif of your lordschip and house foirsaid, that i bear trewly, knawing and seing the great skaith and dishonour and lack appeirandlye that mycht come tharthrowght, incaise your lordschip remeid not the samyn haistelly, whareby we mycht bayth be qwyet of all danger, quhilkis dowbtless will come upoun us bayth, yf i use nott my office, or that he be called, the tyme that he is now with your lordschip, and under your lordschippis protectioun. (_subserivit agane_,) j. sanctandrois. by these formar instructions, thow may perceave, gentill readar, what was the cayre that this pastor, with his complices, took to fead the flock committed to thare charge, (as thei alledge,) and to ganestand fals teachearis. hear is oft mentioun of conscience, of heresy, and suche other termes, that may fray the ignorant, and deceave the sempill. but we hear no cryme in particulare laid to the charge of the accused;[ ] and yit is he dampned as ane mensworne apostate. this was my lordis conscience, which he learned of his fatheris, the pharesies, old ennemyes to christ jesus, who damned him befoir thei hard him. but who rewlled my lordis conscience, when he took his eme's wyff, lady giltoun?[ ] considder thow the rest of his persuasioun, and thow shall clearlie see, that honour, estimatioun, luif to housse and freindis, is the best ground that my lord bischope hes, why he should persecut jesus christ in his members. we thowght good to insert the answeris of the said erle, which follow:-- the most remarkable notice of this lady occurs in the records of the town council of edinburgh, th november , on which day the provost and other members of council ordained "actis to be set furth, charging grizzell simpill lady stanehous adulterar, to remuif her self furth of the town betuix and mununday nixt, under the panys contenit in the proclamation set furth aganis adulteraris." as the archbishop of st. andrews had a residence in edinburgh, it was no doubt her living openly with him, that occasioned this peremptory enactment. without enlarging further, it may be added, that she acquired the lands of blair, in the lordship of culross, and was sometimes called "lady blair." she died in october , and in the confirmation of her testament dative, she is styled "ane honorabill lady gryssell sympill, lady stanehous." memorandum.--this present wryte is to mak answer particularly to everilk article, directed be my lord of sanctandrois to me, with schir david hammyltoun; quhilkis articles ar in nomber ix, and hear repeted and answered as i traist to his lordschippis contentment. . the first article puttis me in remembrance of the ancianitie of the blood of my hous, how many erles, lordis, and knychtes, hes bein thairof; how many noble men discended of the same hous, how long it continewed trew to god and the prince, without smot in thare dayis, in any maner of sorte. [answer.]--trew it is, my lord, that thare is weall long continewance of my hous, be goddis providence and benevolence of our princes, whome we have served, and shall serve trewly nixt to god: and the lyik obedience towardis god and our princes remanes with us yitt, or rather bettir, (praised be the lordis name,) nother know we any spot towardis our princess and hir dew obedience. and yf thare be offence towardis god, he is mercifull to remitt our offences; for "he will not the death of a synnar." lyik as, it standis in his omnipotent power to maik up housses, to continew the samyn, to alter thame, to maik thame small or great, or to extinguish thame, according to his awin inscrutable wisedome; for in exalting, depressing, and changeing of houssis, the laude and praise most be gevin to that ane eternall god, in whais hand the same standis. . the secound article bearis the great affectioun and love your lordschip bearis towardis me and my house; and of the ardent desyre ye have of the perpetuall standing thairof in honour and fame, with all thame that is cuming of it. [answer.]--forsuyth, it is your dewitie to wische good unto my hous, and unto thame that ar cuming of the same, not allanerlie for the faythfulnes, amitie, and societie, that hes bein betuix our foirbearis, but also for the lait conjunction of blood[ ] that is betuix oure saidis houssis, gif it be goddis pleasur that it have success; quhilk should give sufficient occasioun to your lordschip to wische good to my housse, and perpetuitie with goddis gloir, without quhilk nothing is perpetuall, unto whome be praise and wirschipe for ever and ever. amen. . thridly, your lordschip declares how displeasand it is to yow, that i should be seduced be ane infamed persone of the law,[ ] and be the flatterie of ane mensworne apostate, that, under pretence of his furth geving, maikis us to understand, that he is ane preachear of the evangell, and tharewith rases schismes and divisionis in the haill kirk of god; and be our mantenance and defence, wald infect this countrey with heresye; alledgeand that to be scripture, whilk thir many yearis bygane, hes bein condemned as heresye be the generall counsallis and haill estate of christiane people. ansure.--the god that creatted heavin and earth, and all that thairin is, preserve me fra seduceing; and i dread otheris many under the cullour of godlynes ar seduceid, and thinkis that thei do god a pleasur, when thei persecute ane of thame that professes his name. what that man is of the law we know nott: we hear nane of his flatterie: his mensworne aith of apostasie is ignorant to us. but yf he had maid ane unlefull aith, contrair goddis command, it war bettir to violate it then to observe it. he preaches nathing to us but the evangell. giff he wald otherwiese do, we wold nott beleve him, nor yitt ane angell of heavin. we hear him sawe na schismes nor divisiones, but sic as may stand with goddis word, whilk we shall caus him confesse in presence of your lordschip and the clargie, when ye requyre us thairto. and as to it that hes bein condempned be the generall counsallis, we traist ye knaw weall that all the generall counsalles hes bein at diversitie amanges thame selfis, and never twa of thame universallie aggreing in all pointis, in samekle as thei ar of men. but the spreit of veritie that bearis testimony of our lord jesus hes nott, nether can not, err; "for heavin and earth shall perishe or ane jote of it perishe." by this, my lord, nether teaches he, nether will we accept of him, but that whilk aggreis with goddis synceir word, sett furth be patriarkis, prophetis, apostles, and evangelistis, left to our salvatioun in his expresse word. and swa, my lord, to condempne the doctrin not examinat is not requyred; for when your lordschip pleassis to hear the confessioun of that manis faith, the maner of his doctrin, which aggreis with the evangell of jesus christ, i will caus him to assist to judgement, and shalbe present thairat with goddis pleasur, that he may rander recknyng of his beleve and our doctrin, to the superiour-poweris, according to the prescriptioun of that blood of the eternall testament, seilled be the immaculate lambe, to whome, with the father, and the holy spreit, be all honour and glorie, for ever and ever. amen. . the ferd article puttis me in remembrance, how dangerous it is, gif the authoritie wald putt at me and my house, according to civile and cannon lawes, and our awin municipale lawis of this realme, and how it appeareth to the decay of our house. ansure.--all lawis ar (or at the least should be) subject to goddis law, whilk law should be first placed and planted in everie manes hearte; it should have na impediment: men should not abrogat it for the defence and upsetting of thare awin advantage. gif it wald please authorities to put at our housse, for confessing of goddis word, or for mantenance of his law, god is mychtie yneuch in his awin caus: he should be rather obeyed nor man. i will serve my princess with bodye, harte, goodis, strenth, and all that is in my power, except that whilk is goddis dewitie, quhilk i will reserve to him self alone: that is, to wirschipe him in trewth and veritie, and als near as i can, conforme to his prescrived worde, to his awin honour and obedience of my princess. . the fyft article puttis me in remembrance how wa your lordschip wald be to hear, see, or know any displeasur that mycht come to me, my sone, or any of my house, and speciallie in my tyme and dayis, and als to hear the great and evill bruyte of me that should now in my aige in a maner begyn to warie fra[ ] my faith, and to be altered thairin, when the tyme is, that i should be maist suir and firme thairin. ansure.--youre lordschippis gud will is ever maid manifest to me in all your articles, that wald not hear, see, or knaw my displeasur, for the quhilkis i am bound to rander your lordschip thankis, and shall do the samyn assuredly. but as for wavering in my faith, god forbyd that i should sa do; for i beleve in god the father, almyghtie maikar of heavin and earth, and in jesus christ his onlie sone our salveour. my lord, i vary not in my faith; bot i praise god that of his goodnes now in my latter dayis hes of his infinit mercy oppynned his bosome of grace to me, to acknawledge him the eternall wisedome, his sone jesus christ, my omnisufficient satisfactioun to refuise all maner of idolatrie, superstitioun, and ignorance, whairwyth i haif bein blynded in tymes bygane, and now belevis that god wilbe mercyfull to me, for now he hes declared his blessed will clearlie to me, befoir my departing of this transitorie lyiff. . the sext article declaired that thare ar delationis of syndrie pointis of heresye upoun that man, called dowglas or grant, whilk lyes to your charge and conscience to putt remeady to, or ellis that all the pestilentiouse doctrin he sawis, and all whome he corruptes with his seid, wilbe requyred at your handis, and all whome he drawes fra your christiane faith; and yf ye should thole him, that ye wilbe accused for all thame whome he infectes with heresey; and tharefoir to regard your lordschippis honour and conscience heirintill. ansure.--what is his surname i knaw nott, but he calles him self dowglas;[ ] for i know nother his father nor his mother. i have heard him teache na articles of heresye; bot that quhilk aggreis with goddis word; for i wold manteane na man in heresey or errour. your lordschip regardis your conscience in the punishement thairof. i pray god that ye sua do, and examyn weall your conscience. he preaches aganis idolatrie: i remit to your lordschippis conscience yf it be heresye or not. he preaches aganis adulterie and fornicatioun: i referr that to your lordschippis conscience. he preaches aganis hypocrisye: i referr that to your lordschippis conscience. he preaches aganis all maner of abuses and corruptioun of christes synceir religioun: i refer that to your lordschippis conscience. my lord, i exhorte yow, in christis name, to wey all thir effaris in your conscience,[ ] and considder yf it be your dewitie also, not only to thole this, but in lyk maner to do the same. this is all, my lord, that i varye in my aige, and na uther thing, but that i knew nott befoir these offenses to be abhominable to god, and now knowing his will be manifestatioun of his word, abhorres thame. . the sevint article desyres me to way thir materis in maist hartlie maner, and to tack thame in best parte, for the weall of bayth our consciences, my hous, freindis, and servandis, and to put sic ane man out of my cumpany, for feir of the cummer and bruyt that should follow thairupoun, be reasson he is dilated of sindry hereseyis: and that your lordschip wald be sory to hear ony of our servandis delated or bruited for sic caussis, or for halding of any sic men; and that your lordschip wald understand my ansuer hearintill, or ony summondis passed thairupoun. ansure.--i thank your lordschip greatlie that ye ar so solist for the weall of me and my house, and is sa humane as to maik me the advertisment befoir ye have summoned, of your awin good will and benevolence; and hes weyed thir materis, als heychtlie as my judgement can serve me, bayth for your lordschippis honour and myn. and when i have reassoned all that i can do with my self in it, i think it ay best to serve god, and obey his manifest word, and nott be obstinat in his contrarie: syne to give thare dew obedience to our princes, rewllaris, and magistratis, and to hear the voce of goddis propheittis, declairing his good promisses to thame that reapentis, and threatnyng to obstinat wicked doaris, everlesting destructioun. your lordschip knawis weall the man: he hes spoking with your lordschip: i thought yow content with him. i heard na occasioun of offence in him. i can nott weall want him, or some preachar. i can nott put away sic ane man, without i knew him ane offendar, as i know nott; for i hear nothing of him, but sic as your lordschippis self heard of him, and sick as he yitt will professe in your presence, whenever your lordschip requires. sic ane man that is readdy to assist him self to judgement, should not be expelled without cognitioun of the cause; for lyik as i answered befoir in ane other article, when your lordschip pleassis that all the spirituall and temporall men of estaite in scotland beis convened, i shall caus him render ane accompt of his beleve and doctrin in your presences: then gif he deserves punishment and correctioun, lett him so suffer; give he be found faythfull, lett him leve in his faith. . the aucht article proponis to me, that your lordschip wald tack the laubour to gett me a man to instruct me in your catholick faith, and to be my preachear, for whais doctrine ye wald lay your saule, that he wald teach nathing but trewly conforme to your faith. ansure.--god almychtie send us many of that sorte, that will preache trewlie, and nathing but ane catholik universall christiane faith; and we heland rud people hes mister of thame. and yf your lordschip wald gett and provid me sic a man, i should provid him a corporall leving, as to my self, with great thankis to your lordschip; for trewly, i and many ma hes great myster of sick men. and becaus i am able to susteane ma nor ane of thame, i will requeist your lordschip earnestlie to provid me sic a man as yo wrait; "for the harvist is great, and thare ar few lauboraris." . the last and nynt article puttis me in remembrance, to considder what murmour your lordschip thollis, and great bruyt, at many manis handis, bayth spirituall and temporall, and at the quenis grace hand, and utheris weall gevin people, for nott putting of ordour to thir effaris; and that your lordschip hes absteaned fra executioun heirof, for luif of my house and posteritie, to the effect that my self should remaid it, for feir of the dishonour mycht come upoun us bayth for the same; whilk beand remeaded, mycht bring us out of all danger. ansure.--my lord, i knaw weall what murmur and indignatioun your lordschip thoillis at ennemies handis of all estaitis, for non-persewing of pure sempill christianes; and i know, that gif your lordschip wald use thare counsall, that wald be blud-schedding and burnyng of pure men, to maik your lordschip serve thare wicked appetites. yit your lordschip knawis your awin dewitie, and should not feare the danger of men, as of him whom ye professe. and verrely, my lord, thare is nathing that may be to your lordschippis releaf in this behalf, bot i will use your lordschippis counsall thairintill, and further the samyn, goddis honour being first provided, and the treuth of his eternall word having libertie. and to absteane for my luif fra persuyt, as your lordschip hes signified, i am addetted to your lordschip, as i have writtin diverse tymes befoir. but thare is ane above, for whais fear ye man absteane fra blude-schedding, or ellis, my lord, knok on your conscience. last of all, your lordschip please to considder, how desyrous some ar to have sedition amongis freindis; how mychtie the devill is to saw discord; how that mony wald desyre na better game but to hunt us at uther. i pray your lordschip begyle thame: we will aggree upoun all purpose, with goddis pleasur, standing to his honour. thare ar diverse houssis in scotland by us, that professe the same god secreatly. thei desyre but that ye begyn the bargane at us; and when it begynnis at us, god knawis the end thairof, and wha sall byd the nixt putt. my lord, considder this: mak na preparative of us. lett nott the vane exhortatioun of thame that regardis litill of the weall and strenth of bayth our houssis, sture up your lordschip, as thei wald to do aganis god, your awin conscience, and the weall of your posteritie for ever. and thairfoir now in the end, i pray your lordschip, wey thir thingis wysely; and gif ye do utherwyise, god is god, wes, and shalbe god, when all is wrocht that man can wirk. this ansuer receaved, the bischope and his complices fand thame selfis somewhat disapointed; for the bischoppes looked for nothing less then for such ansueris frome the erle of ergile; and thairfoir thei maid thame for thare extreame defence; that is, to corrupt and by buddis to styre up the quein regent in our contrare; as in the secound booke we shall more plainly heare. schorte after this, god called to his mercy the said erle of ergyle from the miseries of this lyef;[ ] whareof the bischoppis war glaid; for thei thowght that thare great ennemye was takin out of the way: but god disapointed thame. for as the said erle departed most constant in the trew faith of jesus christ, with a plane renunciatioun of all impietie, superstitioun, and idolatrie; so left he it to his sone in his testament, "that he should study to set fordwarte the publict and trew preaching of the evangell of jesus christ, and to suppress all superstitioun and idolatrie, to the uttermost of his power." in which poynt small falt can be found with him[ ] to this day. god be mercifull to his other offensses. amen. [sn: maij, anno .[ ]] ---------------------------------- [ ] the bischoppis continewed in thare provinciall counsall[ ] evin unto that day that johne knox arryved in scotland.[ ] and that thei mycht geve some schaw to the people that thei mynded reformatioun, thei sparsed abrod a rumor thairof, and sett furth somewhat in print, which of the people was called "the twa-penny fayth."[ ] . amonges thare actes, thare was much ado for cappes, schavin crounes, tippettis, long gounes, and such other trifilles. . _item_, that nane should enjoy office or benefice ecclesiasticall, except a preast. [sn: brotherlie charitie.] . _item_, that na kirk-man should nuriss his awin barnes in his awin cumpanye: but that everie one should hold the childrein of otheris. . that none should putt his awin sone in his awin benefice. . that yf any war found in open adultery, for the first falt, he should lose the thrid of his benefice; for the secound cryme, the half; and for the thrid, the hole benefice. but hearfra appelled the bischope of murray,[ ] and otheris prelattis, saying, "that thei wold abyd at the cannoun law." and so mycht thei weall yneuch do, so long as thei remaned interpretouris, dispensatouris, maikaris, and disannullaris of that law. but lett the same law have the trew interpretatioun and just executioun, and the devill shall als schone be provin a trew and obedient servand unto god, as any of that sorte shalbe provin a bischope, or yit to have any just authoritie within the church of christ jesus. but we returne to oure historye. [sn: the quein regent hir practises.] the persecutioun was decreid, asweall by the quein regent as by the prelattis; but thare rested a point, which the quein regent and france had nott at that tyme obteaned; to witt, that the croune matrimoniall should be granted to frances, husband to our soverane, and so should france and scotland be but one kingdome, the subjectes of boyth realmes to have equall libertie, scotismen in france, and french men in scotland. the glister of the proffeit that was judged heirof to have ensewed to scotishmen at the first sight, blynded many menis eyis. but a small wynd caused that myst suddantlye to vaniss away; for the greatast offices and benefices within the realme war appointed for french men. monsieur ruby[ ] keapt the great seall. vielmort was comptrollar.[ ] melrose and kelso[ ] should have bein a commend to the poore cardinall of lorane. the fredomes of scotish merchantis war restreaned in rowan, and thei compelled to pay toll and taxationis otheris then thare ancient liberties did bear. to bring this head to pass, to witt, to gett the matrimoniall croune, the quein regent left no point of the compas unsailled. with the bischoppis and preastis, sche practised on this maner: "ye may clearlie see, that i can not do what i wald within this realme; for these heretickis and confidderatis of england ar so band togitther, that thei stop all good ordour. butt will ye be favorable unto me in this suyt of the matrimoniall croune to be granted to my dowghtaris housband, then shall ye see how i shall handill these heretickis and tratouris or it be long." and in verray dead, in these hir promessis, sche ment no deceat in that behalf. unto the protestantis she said, "i am nott unmyndfull how oft ye have suyted me for reformatioun in religioun, and glaidly wald i consent thairunto; but ye see the power and craft of the bischop of sanctandrois, togetther with the power of the duck, and of the kirkmen, ever to be bent against me in all my proceadingis: so that i may do nothing, onless the full authoritie of this realme be devolved to the king of france, which can nott be butt by donatioun of the croune matrimoniall; which thing yf ye will bring to passe, then devise ye what ye please in materis of religioun, and thei shalbe granted." wyth this commission and credytt was lord james, then priour of sanctandrois, direct to the erle of ergyle, with mo other promessis then we list to reherse. by such dissimulatioun to those that war sempill and trew of harte, inflambed sche thame to be more fervent in hir petitioun, then hir self appeared to be. and so at the parliament, haldin at edinburght in the moneth of october,[ ] the yeir of god , it was clearlie voted, no man reclamyng, (except the duck[ ] for his entress;[ ]) and yitt for it thare was no better law produced, except that thare was ane solempned messe appointed for that purpose in the pontificall. this head obteaned, whaireat france and sche principallie schote, what faith sche keapt unto the protestantis, in this our secound book shalbe declared: in the begynnyng whairof, we man more amplie reherse some thingis, that in this our first ar summarly tweiched. the end of the first book. +telos+ the secound book of the historye of thingis done in scotland, in the reformatioun of religioun, begynnyng in the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty aucht. oure purpose was to have maid the begynnyng of our historie from the thingis that war done from the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty aucht yearis, till the reformatioun of religioun, which of goddis mercy we anes possessed;[ ] and yitt, in doctrin and in the rycht use of administratioun of sacramentis, do possesse. but becaus diverse of the godlie, (as befoir is said,) earnestlye requyred, that such personis as god raised up in the myddis of darknes, to oppone thame selfis to the same, should nott be omitted; we obeyed thare requeast, and have maid a schorte rehersall of all such materis as concerne religion, frome the death of that notable servand of god, maister patrik hammyltoun, unto the foirsaid year, when that it pleased god to look upoun us more mercyfullie then we deserved, and to geve unto us greattar boldness and better (albeit not without hasard and truble) successe in all our interprises then we looked for, as the trew narratioun of this secound book shall witness: the preface whareof followis. prefatio. least that sathan by our long silence shall tak occasioun to blaspheym, and to sklander us the protestantis of the realme of scotland, as that our fact tendit rather to seditioun and rebellioun, then to reformatioun of maners and abuses in religioun; we have thocht expedient, so trewlie and brievlie as we can, to committ to writting the causes moving us, (us, we say, are great parte of the nobilitie and baronis of the realme,) to tak the sweard of just defence against those that most injustly seak our destructioun. and in this our confessioun we shall faithfullie declair, what moved us to putt our handis to the reformatioun of religioun; how we have proceaded in the same; what we have asked, and what presentlie we requyre of the sacrat authoritie; to the end, that our caus being knawen, alsweall our ennemeis as our brethren in all realmes may understand how falslie we ar accused of tumult and rebellioun, and how unjustlie we ar persecuted by france and by thare factioun: as also, that our brethren, naturall scottismen, of what religioun so evir thei be, may have occasioun to examinat thame selfis, yf thei may with salf conscience oppone themselfes to us, who seak nothing bot christ jesus his glorious evangell to be preached, his holy sacramentis to be trewlie ministrat, superstitioun, tyrannye, and idolatrie to be suppressed in this realme; and, finallie, the libertie of this our native countrie to remane free from the bondage and tyranny of strangeris. * * * * * whill that the quein regent practised with the prelattis, how that christ jesus his blessed evangell mycht utterlie be suppressed within scotland, god so blessed the laubouris of his weak servandis, that na small parte of the baronis of this realme begane to abhorre the tyranny of the bischoppes: god did so oppin thare eyis by the light of his woord, that thei could clearelie decerne betuix idolatrie and the trew honoring of god. [sn: the first doubte.] yea, men almost universallie begane to dowbt whetther that thei myght, (god nott offended,) give thare bodelye presence to the messe, or yitt offer thare childrein to the papisticall baptisme. to the which dowbtes, when the most godlie and the most learned in europe had answered, both by word and writt, affirmyng, [sn: the secound.] "that neather of both we mycht do, without the extreame perrell of our saulles," we began to be more trubled; for then also began men of estimatioun, and that bare rewill amanges us, to examinat thame selfis concernyng thare dewities, alsweall towardis reformatioun of religioun, as towardis the just defence of thare brethren most cruelly persecuted. and so begane diverse questionis to be moved, to witt, "yf that with salf conscience such as war judgeis, lordis, and rewlaris of the people, mycht serve the uppare powers in maynteanyng idolatrie, in persecuting thare brethrein, and in suppressing christes trewth?" or, "whitther thei, to whome god in some caisses had committed the sweard of justice, mycht suffer the bloode of thare brethrein to be sched in thare presence, without any declaratioun that such tyrannye displeased thame?" [sn: scripturis answering the doubtis.] by the plane scriptures it was found, "that a lyvelie faith requyred a plane confessioun, when christes trewth is oppugned; that not only ar thei gyltie that do evill, bot also thei that assent to evill." and plane it is, that thei assent to evill, who seing iniquitie openly committed, by thare silence seame to justifie and allow whatsoever is done. these thingis being resolved, and sufficientlie provin by evident scriptures of god, we began everie man to look more diligentlie to his salvatioun: for the idolatrie and tyranny of the clargie, (called the churchmen,) was and is so manifest, that whosoever doth deny it, declair him self ignorant of god, and ennemy to christ jesus. we thairfore, with humbill confessioun of our formar offenses, with fasting and supplicatioun unto god, begane to seak some remeady in sa present a danger. and first, it was concluded, "that the brethren in everie toune at certane tymes should assemble togidder, to commoun prayeris, to exercise and reading of the scripturis, till it should please god to give the sermone of exhortatioun to some, for conforte and instructioun of the rest." and this our weak begynnyng god did so bless, that within few monethis the hartes of many war so strenthned, that we sought to have the face of a church amanges us, and open crymes to be punished without respect of persone. and for that purpose, by commoun electioun, war eldaris appointed, to whome the hole brethren promissed obedience: for at that tyme we had na publict ministeris of the worde; onlie did certane zelous men, (amonges whome war the lard of dun, david forress, maister robert lokharte, maister robert hammylton, williame harlay,[ ] and otheris,[ ]) exhorte thare brethrein, according to the giftes and graces granted unto thame. [sn: this was called the prevye kirk.] bot schort after did god stirre up his servand, paule methven,[ ] (his latter fall[ ] aught not to deface the work of god in him,) who in boldnes of spreit begane opinlie to preache christ jesus, in dundie, in diverse partes of anguss, and in fyffe; and so did god work with him, that many began opinly to abrenunce thare ald idolatrie, and to submitt thame selfis to christ jesus, and unto his blessed ordinances; insomuch that the toune of dundee began to erect the face of a publict churche reformed, in the which the worde was openlie preached, and christis sacramentcs trewlie ministrat. in this meantyme did god send to us our deare brother, johne willock,[ ] ane man godly, learned, and grave, who, after his schorte abode at dundie, repared to edinburgh, and thare (notwithstanding his long and dangerous seiknes) did so encorage the brethren by godly exhortationis, that we began to deliberat upoun some publict reformatioun; for the corruptioun in religioun was such, that with salf conscience we could na langar susteane it. yitt becaus we wold attempt nothing without the knowledge of the sacrate authoritie,[ ] with one consent, after the deliberatioun of many dayes, it was concluded, that by our publict and commoun supplicatioun, we should attempt the favouris, supporte, and assistance of the quein then regent, to a godly reformatioun. [sn: the lard of caldar eldar.] and for that purpoise, after we had drawin our oraisoun and petitionis, as followeth, we appointed from amanges us a man whose age and yearis deserved reverence, whose honestie and wirschip mycht have craved audience of ony magistrate on earth, and whose faithfull service to the authoritie at all tymes had bein suche, that in him culd fall no suspitioun of unlawfull disobedience. this oratour was that auncient and honorable father, schir james sandelandes of calder, knycht,[ ] to whome we geve commissioun and power in all our names then present, befoir the quein regent thus to speak:-- the first oratioun, and petitioun, of the protestantes of scotland to the quein regent. albeit we have of long tyme conteyned our selfis in that modestie, (maist noble princess,) that neyther the exile of body, tynsall of goodis, nor perishing of this mortall lyif, wes able to convein us to ask at your grace reformatioun and redress of those wrangis, and of that sore greaff, patientlie borne of us in bodyes and myndes of so long tyme; yitt ar we now, of verray conscience and by the fear of our god, compelled to crave at your grace's feit, remeady against the most injust tyranny used against your grace's most obedient subjectes, by those that be called the estate ecclesiasticall. [sn: controversye in religioun.] your grace can not be ignorant what controversie hath bein, and yit is, concernyng the trew religioun, and rycht wirschipping of god, and how the cleargye (as thei wilbe termed) usurpe to thame selfes suche empyre above the consciences of men, that whatsoever thei command must be obeyed, and whatsoever thei forbid must be avoided, without farder respect had to godis plesour, commandiment, or will, reveilled till us in his most holy worde; [sn: the tyrannye of the cleargie.] or ellis thare abydeth nothing for us but faggot, fyre, and sweard, by the which many of our brethrene, most cruellie and most injustlie, have bein strickin of laitt yearis within this realme: which now we fynd to truble and wound our consciences; for we acknowledge it to have bein our bound dewities befoir god, eyther to haif defended our brethren from those cruell murtheraris, (seing we ar a parte of that power which god hath establessed in this realme,) or ellis to haif gevin open testificatioun of our faith with thame, which now we offer our selfis to do, least that by our continewall silence we shall seame to justifie thare cruell tyranny; which doeth not onlie displease us, but your grace's wisdome most prudentlie doeth foirsee, that for the quieting of this intestine dissentioun, a publict reformatioun, alsweall in the religioun as in the temporall governement, war most necessarie; and to the performance thairof, most gravelie and most godlie, (as we ar informed,) ye have exhorted alsweall the cleargy as the nobilitie, to employ thare study, diligence, and care. we tharefoir of conscience dar na langar dissemble in so weighty a mater, which concerneth the glorie of god and our salvatioun: neather now dar we withdraw our presence, nor conceill our petitionis, least that the adversaries hearefter shall object to us, that place was granted to reformatioun, and yit no man suited for the same; and so shall our silence be prejudiciall unto us in tyme to come. and tharefoir we, knowing no other order placed in this realme, but your grace, in your grave counsall, sett to amend, alsweall the disordour ecclesiasticall, as the defaultes in the temporall regiment, most humblie prostrat our selfes befoir your featt, asking your justice, and your gratious help, against thame that falslie traduce and accuse us, as that we war heretickis and schismatikis, under that culour seiking our destructioun; [sn: the petitioun.] for that we seak the amendment of thare corrupted lyeffis, and christes religioun to be restored to the originall puritie. farther, we crave of your grace, with opin and patent earis, to heare these our subsequent requestis; and to the joy and satisfactioun of our trubled consciences, mercifullie to grant the same, onless by goddis plane worde any be able to prove that justlie thei awght to be denyed. the first petitioun. first, humblie we ask, that as we haif, of the lawes of this realme, after long debaite, obteaned to reade the holy bookes of the old and new testamentes in our commoun toung,[ ] as spirituall foode to our soullis, so from hensfurth it may be lauchfull that we may convene, publictlie or privatlie, to our commoun prayeris, in our vulgar toung; to the end that we may encrease and grow in knowledge, and be induceid, in fervent and oft prayer,[ ] to commend to god the holye church universall, the quoin our soverane, hir honorable and gratiouse husband, the habilitie[ ] of thare succcssioun, your grace regent, the nobilitie, and hole estait of this realme. secundly, yf it shall happin in oure saidis conventionis any hard place of scripture to be redd, of the which no proffeit arysith to the convenaris, that it shalbe lauchfull to any qualifiit personis in knowledge, being present, to interpreit and open up the saidis hard places, to goddis glorie and to the proffeit of the auditour. and yf any think that this libertie should be occasioun of confusioun, debait, or heresie; we ar content that it be providit, that the said interpretatioun shall underly the judgement of the most godly and most learned within the realme at this tyme. thridly, that the holy sacrament of baptisme may be used in the vulgare toung; that the godfatheris and witnesses may nott onlie understand the poyntes of the league and contract maid betuix god and the infant, bot also that the churche then assembled, more gravelie may be informed and instructed of thare dewiteis, whiche at all tymes thei owe to god, according to that promeise maid unto him, when thei war receaved in his houshold by the lavachre[ ] of spirituall regeneratioun. ferdlie, we desyre, that the holy sacrament of the lordis suppare, or of his most blessed body and bloode, may lykwyise be ministred unto us in the vulgare toung; and in boyth kyndis,[ ] according to the plane institutioun of our saviour christ jesus. and last, we most humblie requyre, that the wicked, sklanderous, and detestable lyiff of prelates, and of the state ecclesiasticall, may be so reformed, that the people by thame have nott occasioun (as of many dayis thei have had) to contempne thare ministerie, and the preaching wharof thei shuld be messingeris.[ ] and yf thei suspect, that we, rather invying thare honouris, or coveting thare riches and possessionis, then zelouslie desyring thare amendment and salvatioun, do travell and labour for this reformatioun; [sn: the offer.] we ar content not onlie that the rewllis and preceptis of the new testament, bot also the writtinges of the ancient fatheris, and the godly approved lawis of justiniane the emperour, decyd the contraversie betuix us and thame: and if it salbe found, that eyther malevolentlie or ignorantlie we ask more then these three foirnamed have requyred, and continewlie do requyre of able and trew ministeris in christes church, we refuise not correctioun, as your grace, with right judgement, shall think meit. bot and yf all the foirnamed shall dampne that whiche we dampne, and approve that whiche we requyre, then we most earnestlie beseik your grace, that notwithstanding the long consuetude which thei have had to live as thei list, that thei be compelled eyther to desist from ecclesiastical administratioun, or to discharge thare dewities as becumeth trew ministeris; so that the grave and godlie face of the primitive churche reduced, ignorance may be expelled, trew doctrine and good maneris may ones agane appeare in the churche of this realme. these thingis we, as most obedient subjectis, requyre of your grace, in the name of the eternall god, and of his sone, christ jesus; in presence of whose throne judiciall, ye and all other that hear in earth bear authoritie, shall geve accomptes of your temporall regiment. the spreit of the lord jesus move your grace's harte to justice and equitie. amen. * * * * * [sn: the practise of sathane.] these oure petitionis being proponed, the estate ecclesiasticall began to storme, and to devise all maner of leys to deface the equitie of our caus. thei bragged as that thei wald have publict disputatioun, which also we most earnestlie requyred, two thingis being provided; the formare, that the plane and writtin scriptures of god shuld decyde all contraversie; [sn: disputatioun with conditionis.] secoundlie, that our brethrene, of whom some war then exiled, and by them injustlie dampned, myght have free accesse to the said disputatioun, and salf conduct to returne to thair duelling places, nochtwithstanding any processe whiche befoir had bene led aganis thame in materis concernyng religioun. [sn: the offer of the papistis.] but these being by thame utterlie denyed, (for no judge wold thei admitt bot thame selfis, thare counsallis, and cannon law,) thei and thare factioun began to draw certane articles of reconciliation, promissing unto us, yf we wold admitt the messe, to stand in hir formare reverence and estimatioun, grant purgatorie after this lyiff, confesse prayer to sanctes and for the dead, and suffer thame to enjoye thare accustomed renttis, possession, and honour, that then thei wold grant unto us to pray and baptize in the vulgare toung, so that it war done secreatlie, and nott in the open assemblie. but the grosness of these articles wes suche, that with ane voce we refused thame; and constantlie craved justice of the quein regent, and a reasonable answer of our formare petitionis. [sn: the grant of the quein regent.] the quein, then regent, ane woman crafty, dissimulate, and fals, thinking to mak hir proffeit of both parteis, gave to us permissioun to use our selfis godlye according to our desyres, providit that we should not maik publict assembleis in edinburgh nor leyth; and did promeise hir assistance to our preacheouris, untill some uniforme ordour myght be established by a parliament. to thame, (we meane to the cleargy,) she quietlie gave significatioun of hir mynd, promissing that how sone any oportunitie should serve, she should so putt ordour in thare materis, that after thei should not be trubled; for some say thei gave hir a large purse,[ ] , lib., sayis the chronicle,[ ] gathered by the lard of erleshall.[ ] we, nothing suspecting hir dowblenes nor falshode, departed, fullelie contented with hir answer; and did use our selfis so qwietlie, that for hir pleasour we putt silence to johne dowglass, who publictlie wold have preached in the toune of leyth; for in all thingis we soght the contentment of hir mynd, so far furth as god should not be offended against us for obeying hir in thingis unlawfull. [sn: the apprehension of walter mylle.] schortlie after these thingis, that cruell tyrant and unmercyfull hypocrite, falselie called bischope of sanctandrois, apprehended that blessed martyre of christ jesus walter myln;[ ] a man of decrepite age, whome most cruellie and most unjustlie be put to death by fyre in sanctandrois, the twenty awcht day of aprile, the year of god j^m. v^c. fyfty aught yearis: whiche thing did so heighlie offend the hartis of all godlye, that immediatlie after his death began a new fervencie amongis the hole people; yea, evin in the toune of sanctandrois, begane the people plainelie to dampne suche injust crueltie; and in testificatioun that thei wold his death should abide in recent memorie, thare was castin together a great heape of stones in the place whare he was brynt. the bischope and preastis thairat offended, caused ones or twyse to remove the same, with denunciatioun of cursing, yf any man should thare lay ony stone. bott in vane was that wynd blowen; for still was the heape maid, till that preastis and papistis did steall away by nycht the stones to big thare walles, and to uther thare privat uses.[ ] [sn: the hypochrisie of the quein regent.] we suspecting nothing that the quein regent wes consenting to the foirnamed murther, most humilie did complayne of suche injust crueltie, requiring that justice in suche cases should be ministrate with greattare indifference. sche, as a woman borne to dissemble and deceave, began with us to lament the crueltie of the bischope, excusing hir self as innocent in that caus; for that the sentence was gevin without hir knowledge, becaus the man sometymes had bene ane preast; tharefoir the bischop's officiare[ ] did proceid upon him without any commissioun of the civile authoritie _ex officio_, as thei terme it. we yit nothing suspectand hir falsheid, requyred some ordour to be tackin against such enormities, whiche sche promissed as oft befoir. bot becaus schorte after thare wes a parliament to be haldin, for certane effares pertenyng rather to the quenis proffeit particulare, nor to the commoditie of the commoun wealth, we thocht good to expone our mater unto the hole parliament, and by thame to seak some redress. we tharefoire, with one consent, did offer to the quein and parliament[ ] a lettir in this tennour:-- the forme of the lettir gevin in parliament. "unto youre grace, and unto yow, rycht honorable lordis of this present parliament, humlie meanes and schawes your grace's faithfull and obedient subjectis: that quhare we ar dalie molested, sklandered, and injured be wicked and ignorant personis, place-haldaris of the ministers of the churche, who most untrewlie cease nott to infame us as heretickis, and under that name thei most cruellie haif persecuted diverse of our brethrein; and farder intend to execute thare malice against us, onles be some godlie ordour thare fury and raige be brydilled and stayed; and yitt in us thei ar able to prove no cryme worthy of punishment, onless that to read the holie scriptures in our assembleis, to invocat the name of god in publict prayeris, with all sobrietie to interprete and open the places of scripture that be redd, to the farther edificatioun of the brethrein assembled, and trewlie according to christ jesus his holy institutioun to minister the sacramentes, be crymes worthy of punishment. other crymes, (we say,) in us thei ar not abill to convict. and to the premisses ar we compelled; for that the saidis place-haldaris discharge no parte of thare deuiteis rychtlie till us, nether yitt to the people subject to us; and thairfoir, onless we should declair our selfis altogether unmyndfull of our awin salvatioun, we ar compelled, of verray conscience, to seak how that we and our brethrein may be delivered from the thraldome of sathan. [sn: protestatioun.] for now it hath pleased god to open our eyes, that manifestlie we see, that without extreame danger of our sowlles, we may in no wyise communicat with the damnable idolatrie, and intolerable abuses of the papisticall churche; and thairfoir most humblie requyre we of your grace, and of yow rycht honorable lordis, baronis, and burgesses assembled in this present parliament, prudentlie to wey, and as it becum[ ] just judges, to grant these our maist just and reasonable petitionis.-- "first, seing that the contraversie in religioun, which long hath continewed betuix the protestants of almany, helvetia, and other provinces, and the papisticall churche, is not yitt decyded by a lauchfull and generall counsall; and seing that our consciences ar lyikwyes towcheit with the fear of god, as was thares in the begynnyng of thare contraversie, we most humlie desyre, that all suche actes of parliament, as in the tyme of darknes gave power to the churche men to execute thare tyranny aganis us, be reasoun that we to thame wor delated as heretiques, may be suspended and abrogated, till a generall counsall lawfullie assembled have decyded all contraverseis in religioun. "and least that this mutatioun shuld seame to sett all men at libertie to lyve as thame list, we secundarelie requyre, that it be enacted by this present parliament, that the prelattis and thare officiaris[ ] be removed from place of judgement; onlie granting unto thame, nocht the less, the place of accusatouris in the presence of a temporall judge, befoir whom the churche men accusatouris salbe bundin to call any by thame accused of heresye, to whome also thei salbe bundin to deliver ane authentik copy of all depositionis, accusationis, and process led against the persone accused; the judge lykewyis delivering the same to the partie accused, assignyng unto him a competent terme to answer to the same, after he hath takin sufficient cautioun _de judicio sisti_. "thridly, we requyre, that all lawfull defences be granted to the personis accused; as yf he be able to prove, that the witnesses be personis unable by law to testifie aganis thame, that then thare accusationis and depositionis be null according to justice. "_item_, that place be granted to the partie accused, to explane and interprite his awin mynd and meanyng; which confessioun we requyre be inserted in publict actes, and be preferred to the depositionis of any witnesses, seing that nane owght to suffer for religioun, that is not found obstinat in his damnable opinioun. "last, we requyre, that our brethrene be not dampned for hereticques, onles, by the manifest word of god, thei be convicted to have erred from that faith whiche the holy spreit witnesseth to be necessarie to salvatioun; and yf so thei be, we refuise nott bot that thei be punished according to justice, onles by holsome admonitioun thei can be reduced to a better mynd. "these thingis requyre we to be considered of yow, who occupy the place of the eternall god, (who is god of ordour and trewth,) evin in suche sorte as ye will answer in the presence of his throne judiciall: requyring farder, that favorablie ye will have respect to the tendernes of our consciences, and to the truble which appeareth to follow in this commoun wealth, yf the tyranny of the prelattis, and of thare adherentis, be nott brydilled by god and just lawis. god move your hartes deeplie to considder your awin dewiteis and our present trubles." these our petitionis did we first present to the quein regent, becaus that we war determined to interprise nothing without hir knowledge, most humlie requyring hir favorable assistance in our just actioun. sche spared nott amyable lookis, and good wordes in aboundance; bot alwayis sche keaped our bill close in hir pocket. when we requyred secreatlie of hir grace, that our petitionis should be proponed to the hole assemblie, sche ansured, "that sche thought nott that expedient; for then wold the hole ecclesiasticall estate be contrarie to hir proceadingis, which at that tyme war great;" for the matrimoniall croune was asked, and in that parliament granted.[ ] "bot, (said sche,) how sone ordour can be tacken with these thingis, which now may be hyndered by the kirk men, ye shall know my goode mynd; and, in the meantyme, whatsoevir i may grant unto yow, shall glaidlie be granted." we yitt nothing suspecting hir falshode, was content to geve place for a tyme to hir pleasour, and pretended reasoun; and yitt thocht we expedient somewhat to protest befoir the dissolutioun of the parliament; for our petitionis war manifestlie knowen to the hole assemblie, as also how, for the quenis pleasour, we ceassed to persew the uttermost. our protestatioun was formed in manor following:-- forme of the protestatioun maid in parliament. "it is not unknawin to this honorable parliament, what contraversie is now laitlie rissin betuix those that wilbe called the prelattis and rewlarris of the church, and a great number of us, the nobilitie and commonaltie of this realme, for the trew wirschipping of god, for the dewitie of ministeris, for the rycht administratioun of christ jesus holie sacramentis: how that we have complained by our publict supplicationis to the quene regent, that our consciences ar burdened with unprofitable ceremonies, and are compelled to adhear to idolatrie; that such as tack upoun thame the office ecclesiasticall, discharge no parte thareof, as becumith trew ministeris to do; and finallie, that we and our brethrein ar most unjustlie oppressed by thare usurped authoritie. and also we suppose it is a thing sufficientlie knowin, that we wer of mynd at this present parliament to seik redress of suche enormiteis; bot, considering that the trubles of the tyme do nott suffer suche reformatioun as we, by goddis plane word, do requyre, we ar enforced to delay that which most earnestlie we desyre; and yitt, least that our silence should geve occasioun to our adversaries to think, that we repent our formare interprise, we can not cease to protest for remedy against that most unjust tyranny, which we heirtofoir most patientlie have susteaned. "and, first, we protest, that seing we can not obtene ane just reformatioun, according to goddis worde, that it be lauchfull to us to use oure selfis in materis of religioun and conscience, as we must ansuer unto god, unto suche tyme as our adversaries be able to prove thame selfis the trew ministers of christes churche, and to purge thame selfis of suche crymes as we have already layed to thare charge, offering our selfis to prove the same whensoever the sacrat authoritie please to geve us audience. "secundlie, we protest, that nether we, nor yit any other that godlie list to joyne with us in the trew faith, whiche is grounded upoun the invincible worde of god, shall incure any danger in lyiff or landis, or other politicall paines, for nott observing suche actes as heirtofoir have passed in favouris of our adversaries, neyther yit for violating of suche rytes as man without god's commandiment or worde hath commanded. "we, thridly, protest, that yf any tumult or uproare shall aryise amanges the membres of this realme for the diversitie of religioun, and yf it shall chance that abuses be violentlie reformed, that the cryme thairof be not impute to us, who most humlie do now seak all thinges to be reformed by ane ordour: [sn: lett the papistis observe.] bot rather whatsoever inconvenient shall happin to follow for lack of ordour tacken, that may be imputed to those that do refuise the same. "and last, we protest, that these our requeastis, proceading from conscience, do tend to none other end, bot to the reformatioun of abuses in religioun onlie: most humilie beseiking the sacred authoritie to tak us, faithfull and obedient subjectis, in protectioun against our adversaries; and to schaw unto us suche indifferencie in our most just petitionis, as it becumeth god's lievetenentis to do to those that in his name do call for defence against cruell oppressouris and bloode thrustie tyrantes."[ ] [sn: letteris to johne calvin.] these our protestationis publictlie redd, we desyred thame to have bene inserted in the commoun register; bot that by laubouris of ennemies was denyed unto us. nochttheles, the quein regent said, "me will remember what is protested; and me shall putt good ordour after this to all thingis that now be in contraversie." and thus, after that sche be craft had obteaned hir purpoise, we departed in good esperance of hir favouris, praysing god in our hartes that sche was so weall enclyned towardes godlynes. the goode opinioun that we had of hir synceritie, caused us not onlie to spend our goodis and hasarde our bodyes at hir pleasour, bot also, by our publict letters writtin to that excellent servand of god johne calvine, we did prayse and commend hir for excellent knowledge in goddis worde and good will towarttis the advancement of his glorie; requyring of him, that by his grave counsall and godlie exhortatioun he wald animat hir grace constantlie to follow that which godlie sche had begune. we did farther charplie rebuike, boith by word and writting, all suche as appeired to suspect in hir any vennoum of hypochrisie, or that war contrare to that opinioun which we had conceaved of hir godlie mynd. bott how far we war deceaved in our opinioun, and abused by hir craft, did suddandlie appeare: for how sone that all thingis perteanyng to the commoditie of france war granted by us, and that peace was contracted betuix king philip and france, and england and us,[ ] sche began to spew furth, and disclose the latent vennome of hir dowble harte. then began sche to frowne, and to look frowardlie to all suche as sche knew did favour the evangell of jesus christ. sche commanded her houshold to use all abhominationis at pasche; and sche hir self, to geve exampill to utheris, did communicat with that idole in open audience: sche comptrolled hir houshold, and wold know whare that everie ane receaved thare sacrament. and it is supposed, that after that day the devill took more violent and strong possessioun in hir[ ] then he had befoir; for, from that day fordwarte, sche appeared altogether altered, insomuche that hir countenances and factes did declair the vennome of hir harte. for incontinent sche caused our preachearis to be summoned;[ ] for whome, when we maid intercessioun, beseiching hir grace not to molest thame in thare ministerie, onles any man war able to convict thame of fals doctrin, sche could not bryddill hir toung from open blasphemy, but proudlie sche said, [sn: sche had gottin hir lessoun from the cardinall.] "in dispite of yow and of your ministeris boith, thei shalbe banisshed owt of scotland, albeit thei preached als trewlie as evir did sanct paule." which proud and blasphemous ansuer did greatlie astoniss us; and yit ceassed we not moist humilie to seak hir favouris, and by great diligence at last obteaned, that the summoundis at that tyme war delayed. for to hir wer send alexander erle of glencarne, and sir hew campbell of loudoun knycht, schiref of air, to reassoun with hir, and to crave some performance of hir manifold promisses. [sn: quene regentis ansure.] to whome sche ansured, "it became not subjectis to burden thare princess with promisses, farther then it pleaseth thame to keape the same." boith thei noble men faythfullie and boldly discharged thare dewitie, and plainlie foirwarned hir of the inconvenientis that war to follow; wharewyth sche somewhat astonied said, "sche wald advise."[ ] [sn: sanct johnestoun embrased the evangell.] in this meantyme did the toune of perth, called sanct johnestoun, embrase the trewth, which did provok hir to a new fury; in which sche willed the lord ruthven, provest of that toune,[ ] to suppress all suche religioun thare. [sn: lord ruthven his ansure.] to the which, when he ansured, "that he could maik thare bodyes to come to hir grace, and to prostrate thame selfis befoir her, till that sche war fullie satiate of thare bloode, bot to caus thame do against thare conscience, he could not promeise:" sche in fury did ansure, "that he was too malaperte to geve hir suche ansure," affirmyng, "that boyth he and thei should repent it." sche solisted maister james halyburtoun, provest of dundie,[ ] to apprehend paule methven,[ ] who, fearing god, gave secreat advertisement to the man to avoid the toune for a tyme. sche send furth suche as sche thought most able to perswade at pasche, to caus montrose, dundie, sanct johnestoun, and otheris suche places as had receaved the evangell, to communicat with the idole of the messe; bot thei could profeit nothing: the heartis of many war bent to follow the trewth reveilled, and did abhore superstitioun and idolatrie. whareat sche more heighlie commoved, did summound agane all the preachearis to compear at striveling, the tent day of maij, the year of god . which understand by us, we, wyth all humble obedience, sowght the meanes how sche myght be appeased, and our preachearis not molested: bot when we could nothing prevaill, it was concluded by the hole brethrein, that the gentilmen of everie cuntrie should accumpany thare preachouris to the day and place appointed. [sn: the first assemblie at sanct johnestoun.] whareto all men war most willing; and for that purpose the toune of dundy, the gentilmen of anguss and mernis, passed fordwarte with thare preachearis to sanct johnestoun, without armour, as peciable men, mynding onlie to geve confessioun with thare preachearis. and least that suche a multitude should have gevin fear to the quein regent, the lard of dun, a zelous, prudent, and godly man, passed befoir to the quein, then being in striveling, to declare to hir, that the caus of thare convocatioun was onlie to geve confessioun with thare preachearis, and to assist thame in thare just defence. sche understanding the fervencie of the people, began to craft with him, solisting him to stay the multitude, and the preachearis also, with promeise that sche wald tak some bettir ordour. [sn: the lard of dun stayed the congregatioun and the preachearis.] he, a man most gentill of nature, and most addict to please hir in all thingis not repugnant to god, wret to those that then war assembled at sanct johnestoun, to stay, and nott to come fordwarte; schawand what promess and esperance he had of the quenis grace favouris. at the reading of his letteris, some did smell the craft and deceat, and persuaded to pas fordwarte, unto the tyme a discharge of the formare summondis should be had, alledgeing, that otherwyis thare process of horning or rebellioun, should be executed against the preachearis; and so should not onlie thei, bot also all suche as did accumpanye thame, be involved in a lyik cryme. otheris did reassone, that the quenes promeisses was not to be suspected, neyther yitt the lard of dun his requeast to be contempned; and so did the hole multitude with thare preacheris stay. in this meanetyme that the preacheouris ware summoned, to wit, the secound of maij , arryved johne knox from france,[ ] who ludgeing two nychtis onlie in edinburgh, hearing the day appointed to his brethren, repared to dundee, whare he earnestlie requyred thame, "that he myght be permitted to assist his brethrein, and to geve confessioun of his faith with thame:" which granted unto him, [he] departed unto sanct johnestoun with thame; whare he began to exhorte, according to the grace of god granted unto him. the quein, perceaving that the preachearis did nott compeir, began to utter her malice; and notwythstanding any requeist maid in the contrarie, gave commandiment to putt thame to the horne, inhibiting all men under pane of thare rebellioun to assist, conforte, receave, or maynteane thame in any sorte. whiche extremitie perceaved by the said lard of dune, he prudentlie withdrew himself, (for otherwyes by all appearance he had not eschaped empresonement;) for the maister of maxwell,[ ] ane man zelous and stout in god's caus, (as then appeired,) under the cloak of ane uther small cryme, was that same day committed to warde, becaus he did boldlie affirme, "that to the uttermost of his power, he wold assist the preachearis and the congregatioun; notwythstanding any sentence whiche injustlie was, or should be, pronunced against thame. the lard of dun, cuming to sanct johnestoun, expounded the caise evin as it was, and did conceill nothing of the quenis craft and falshode. whiche understand, the multitud was so enflammed, that neyther could the exhortatioun of the preacheare, nor the commandiment of the magistrat, stay thame from distroying of the places of idolatrie. [sn: the doun casting of the freiris in sanct johnestoun.] the maner whairof was this:[ ] the preacheouris befoir had declaired, how odiouse was idolatrie in god's presence; what commandiment he had gevin for the destructioun of the monumentis thairof; what idolatrie and what abhominatioun was in the messe. it chanced, that the next day, whiche was the ellevint of maij, after that the preachearis wer exyled, that after the sermoun whiche was vehement against idolatrie, that a preast in contempt wold go to the messe; and to declair his malapert presumptioun, he wold opin up ane glorious tabernacle which stoode upoun the hie altare. thare stoode besyde, certane godly men, and amonges otheris a young boy, who cryed with a lowd voce, "this is intollerable, that when god by his worde hath planelie damned idolatrie, we shall stand and see it used in dispyte." the preast heirat offended, gave the chyld a great blow; who in anger took up a stone, and casting at the prcast, did hytt the tabernacle and brack doune ane ymage; and immediatlie the hole multitude that war about cast stones, and putt handis to the said tabernacle, and to all utheris monumentis of idolatrie; whiche thei dispatched, befoir the tent man in the toune war advertist, (for the moist parte war gone to dennar:) whiche noysed abroad, the hole multitude convened, not of the gentilmen, neyther of thame that war earnest professouris, bot of the raschall multitude, who fynding nothing to do in that churche, did run without deliberatioun to the gray and blak freris; and nochtwythstanding that thei had within thame verray strong gardis keapt for thare defence, yitt war thare gates incontinent brust upe. the first invasioun was upoun the idolatrie; and thareafter the commoun people began to seak some spoile; and in verray deid the gray freiris[ ] was a place so weall provided, that oneles honest men had sein the same, we wold have feared to have reported what provisioun thei had. thare scheittis, blancattis, beddis, and covertouris wer suche, as no erle in scotland hath the bettir: thair naiprie was fyne. [sn: thair provisioun.] thei wer bot awght personis in convent, and yitt had viij punscheonis of salt beaff, (considder the tyme of the yeare, the ellevint day of maij,) wyne, beare, and aill, besydis stoare of victuallis effeiring thareto. the lyik haboundance was nott in the blak frearis;[ ] and yitt thare was more then becam men professing povertie. the spoile was permitted to the poore: for so had the preacheouris befoir threatned all men, that for covetousnes saik none shuld putt thare hand to suche a reformatioun, that no honest man was enriched thairby the valew of a groate. thare conscience so moved thame, that thei suffered those hypocreattis tak away what thei could, of that whiche was in thare places. the priour of charter-howse was permitted to tack away with him evin so muche gold and silver as he was weall able to cary.[ ] so was menis consciences befoir beattin with the worde, that thei had no respect to thare awin particulare proffeit, bot onlie to abolishe idolatrie, the places and monumentis thareof: in which thei wer so busye, and so laborious, that within two dayis, these three great places, monumentis of idolatrie, to witt, the gray and blak theves,[ ] and charter-housse monkis, (a buylding of a wonderouse coast and greatness,[ ]) was so destroyed, that the walles onlie did remane of all these great edificationis. [sn: a godly vow.] whiche, reported to the quein, sche was so enraged that sche did avow, "utterlie to destroy sanct johnestoun, man, woman, and child, and to consume the same by fyre, and thairafter to salt it, in signe of a perpetuall desolatioun." we suspecting nothing suche creweltie, bot thinking that suche wordis myght eschape hir in choler, without purpose determinate, becaus sche was a woman sett a fyre by the complaintes of those hypocrytes who flocked unto hir, as ravennis to a carioun; we, (we say,) suspecting nothing suche beastlie crueltie, returned to our awin housses; leaving in sanct johnestoun johne knox to instruct, becaus thei war young and rude in christ. bott sche, sett a fyre, partlie be hir awin malice, partelie by commandiment of hir freindis in france, and not a litill by brybes, whiche sche and monsieur dosell receaved from the bischoppes and the preastis heir at home, did continew in hir rage. [sn: the complaint of the quein regent.] and first, sche send for all the nobilitie, to whome sche complaned, "that we meaned nothing bot a rebellioun." sche did grevouslie aggreage the destructioun of the charter-howse,[ ] becaus it was a kingis fundatioun; and thare was the tumbe of king james the first; and by suche other perswasionis sche maid the most parte of thame grant to persew us. and then incontinent send sche for hir frenchemen; for that was and hath ever bein hir joy to see scottishmen dip one with anotheris bloode. no man was at that tyme more frack against us then was the duke,[ ] lead by the crewell beast, the bischope of sanctandrois, and by these that yitt abuse him, the abbot of kilwynnyng,[ ] and matthew hammyltoun of mylburne,[ ] two cheaf ennemeis to christ jesus; yea, and ennemeis[ ] to the duke and to his hole house, bot in sa far as thairby thei may procure thair awin particulare proffeitt. these and suche other pestilent papistes ceassed nott to cast faggotis on the fyre, continewalie cryeing, "fordwarte upoun these heretiques; we shall ones rydd this realme of thame." the certantie heirof cuming to our knowledge, some of us repaired to the toune agane, about the day of maij, and thare did abyde for the conforte of our brethrein. whare, after invocatioun of the name of god, we began to putt the toune and ourselfis in suche strenth, as we thought myght best for our just defence. and, becaus we war nott utterlie dispared of the quenis favouris, we cawsed to forme a lettir to hir grace, as followeth:-- "to the quenis grace regent, all humill obedience and dewitie premissed. "as heirtofoir, with jeopard of our lyves, and yitt with willing hartes, we haif served the authoritie of scotland, and your grace, now regent in this realme, in service to our bodyes dangerous and painefull; so now, with most dolorous myndis we ar constraned, by injust tyrannye purposed against us, to declair unto your grace, that except this crueltie be stayed by your wisdome, we wilbe compelled to tak the sweard of just defence aganis all that shall persew us for the mater of religioun, and for our conscience saik; whiche awght not, nor may nott be subject to mortale creatures, farder than be god's worde man be able to prove that he hath power to command us. we signifie moreover unto your grace, that yf by rigour we be compelled to scale the extreme defence, that we will nott onlie notife our innocencie and petitionis to the king of france, to our maistres and to her housband, bot also to the princes and counsall of everie christiane realme, declairing unto thame, that this cruell, injust, and most tyrannicall murther, intended aganis townes and multitudis, wes, and is the onlie caus of our revolt from our accustomed obedience, whiche, in god's presence, we faythfullie promeise to our soverane maistres, to hir husband, and unto your grace regent; provided, that our consciences may lyve in that peace and libertie whiche christ jesus hath purchassed till us by his bloode; and that we may have his worde trewlie preached, and holie sacramentis ryghtlie ministrat unto us, without whiche we fermelie purpose never to be subject to mortall man: [sn: o whair is this fervencie now!] for better, we think, to expone our bodyes to a thowsand deathis, then to hasarde our soules to perpetuall condemnatioun, by denying christ jesus and his manifest veritie, whiche thing not onlie do thei that committ open idolatrie, bot also all suche as seing thare brethrene injustlie persewed for the caus of religioun, and having sufficient meanes to conforte and assist thame, do nott the less withdraw frome thame thair detfull supporte. [sn: o wald god that the nobilitie shuld yitt considere.] we wald nott your grace should be deceaved by the fals persuasionis of those cruell beastis, the churche men, who affirme, that your grace nedith nott greatlie to regarde the losse of us that professe christ jesus in this realme. yf (as god forbid) ye gif care to thare pestilent counsall, and so use against us this extremitie pretended; it is to be feared, that neyther ye, neyther yitt your posteritie, shall at any tyme after this fynd that obedience and faithfull service within this realme, whiche at all tymes yow have found in us. we declair our judgementis frelie, as trew and faithfull subjectis. god move your graces harte favorablie to interpreite our faythfull meanyng. further advertissing your grace, that the self same thing, together with all thingis that we have done, or yitt intend to do, we will notifie by our letteris to the king of france; asking of yow, in the name of the eternall god, and as your grace tenderis the peace and qwyetness of this realme, that ye invaid us nott with violence, till we receave ansur from our maistres, hir husband, and from thare advised counsall thare. and this we committ your grace to the protectioun of the omnipotent. "frome sanet johnestoun the of maij . (_sic subscribitur_,) your grace's obedient subjectis in all thingis not repugnant to god, "the faithfull congregatioun of christ jesus in scotland." in the same tennour we wrate to monsieur dosell in frenche, requiring of him, that by his wisdome he wold mitigate the quenis raige, and the raige of the preastis; otherwyis that flambe, whiche then begane to burne, wold so kendle that quhen some men wold, it culd not be slokenned; adding farder, that he declairit him self[ ] no faithfull servand to his maister the king of france, yf for the plesour of the preistis he wald persecut us, and so compell us to taik the sweard of just defence. in lyke maner we wrait to capitane serra la burse, and to all uther capitanis and frenche soldiouris in generall, admonischeing thame that thair vocatioun was nocht to fyght aganis us naturall scottishmen; nather yit that thai had any suche commandiment of thair maister. we besowght thame thairfoir nocht to provok us to inemitie aganest thame, considdering, that thay had found us favorable in thair most extreme necessiteis. we declairit farther unto thame, that yf thay enterit in hostilitie and bloody warre aganest us, that the same sould remane langar than thair and oure lyves, to witt, evin in all posteriteis to come, so lang as naturall scottishmen suld have power to revenge suche crewelty, and maist horribill ingratitude. thease letteris war causit be spred abroade in great habundance, to the end that sum myght cume to the knawlege of men. the quene regent hir letter was layed upoun hir cussing in the chapell royall at striveling, quhair sche accustomit to sitt at messe. sche looked upoun it, and put it in the pocket of hir goune. monsieur dosell and the capitanis receavit thairis deliverit evin be thair awin soldiouris, (for sum amongis thame war favoraris of the treuth,) quho efter the reading of thame, began to ryve thair awin beardis; for that was the modest behaveour of monsieur dosell, quhen treuth was told unto him, so that it repugne to his fantasie. these our letteris war suppressed to the uttermost of thair power, and yit thay come to the knowlege of mony. bot the raige of the quene and preistis culd nocht be stayed; bot fordwart thay move against us, quho than war bot are verrie few and meane number of gentilmen in sanct johnestoun. we perceaving the extremitie to approche, did wrytt to all bretherin, to repair towardis us for our releve; to the quhiche we fand all men so readie bent, that the work of god was evidentlie to be espyed. and becaus that we wold omitt na diligence to declair our innocencie to all men, we formit ane letter to those of the nobilitie who than persecuted us, as efter followeth:-- "to the nobilitie of scotland, the congregationis of chryst jesus within the same, desyr the spreit of ryghteous judgement." "becaus we ar nocht ignorant, that the nobilitie of this realme who now persecute us, employing thair hole study and force to manteyne the kingdome of sathan, of superstitioun and idolatrie, ar yit nochttheles devidit in opinioun; we, the congregatioun of christ jesus by yow injustlie persecuted, have thocht good, in one letter, to write unto yow severallie. ye ar devidit, we say, in opinioun; for sum of yow think that we who have tackin upoun us this interpryise to remove idolatrie, and the monumentis of the same, to erect the trew preaching of chryst jesus in the boundis committit to our chargis, ar heretickis, seditious men, and trubilleris of this commone wealth; and thairfoir that no punischment is sufficient for us: and so, blyndit with this rage, and under pretens to serve the authoritie, ye proclame warre, and threattin distructioun without all ordour of law aganis us. to yow, we say, that nather your blynd zeale, nather yit the colour of authoritie, sall excuse yow in godis presence, who commandeth "none to suffer death, till that he be opinlie convictit in jugement, to have offendit against god, and against his law writtin," whiche no mortall creature is able to prove against us: for quhatsoevir we have done, the same we have done at godis commandiment, who planelie commandis idolatrie, and all monumentis of the same to be destroyed and abolisshed, oure ernist and long requeist hath bein, and is, that in opin assemblie it may be disputit in presence of indifferent auditouris, [sn: the perpetuall requeist of the protestantis of scotland.] "whether that theis abhominationis, namit by the pestilent papistis, religioun, whiche thay by fyre and sweard defend, be the trew religioun of christ jesus or not?" now, this our humbill requeast denyed unto us, our lyves ar sought in most crewell maner. and ye, the nobilitie, (whose dewetie is to defend innocentis, and to brydle the fury and raige of wicked men, wer it of princes or emperouris,) do nochtwithstanding follow thare appetytis, and arme your selfis against us, your bretherin, and naturall cuntriemen; yea, against us that be innocent and just, as concerning all suche crymes as be layid to our chargis. yf ye think that we be criminall becaus that we dissent from your opinioun, considder, we beseiche yow, that the prophetis under the law, the apostles of christ jesus efter his assentioun, his primitive churche, and holy martyris, did disassent from the hole world in thare dayis; and will ye deny bot that thair actioun was just, and that all those that persecuted thame war murtheraris befoir god? may nocht the lyek be trew this day? what assurance have ye this day of your religioun, whiche the warld that day had nocht of thairis? ye have a multitude that aggre with yow, and so had thay. ye have antiquitie of tyme, and that thay lacked nocht. ye have counsales, lawis, and men of reputatioun that have establisshed all thingis, as ye suppose: bot none of all these can maik any religioun acceptable unto god, whiche onelie dependeth upon his awin will, revealled to man in his most sacred word. is it nocht than a wonder that ye sleip in so deadlie a securitie, in the mater of your awin salvatioun, considdering that god gevith unto yow so manifest tockens, that ye and your leaderis ar boith declynit from god? [sn: probatioun against the papistis.] for yf "the tree salbe judgit by the fruit," (as christ jesus affirmeth, that it must be,) than of necessitie it is that your prelattis, and the hole rable of thair clergie, be evill treeis. for yf adultrie, pryde, ambitioun, dronknes, covetousnes, incest, unthankfulnes, oppressioun, murther, idolatrie, and blasphemye, be evill fructis, thare can none of that generatioun, whiche clame to thame selfis the title of churche men,[ ] be judged gud treeis; for all these pestilent and wicked fruittis do they bring furth in greittest habundance: and gif thai be evill treis, (as ye your selfis must be compelled to confes thay ar,) advise prudentlie with what consciences ye can manteyne thame, to occupy the roume and place in the lordis vyne yarde. do ye nocht considder, that in so doing ye labour to manteyne the servandis of syne in thair filthie corruptioun; and so consequentlie ye labour, that the devill may regne, and still abuse this realme, by all iniquitie and tyrannye, and that chryst jesus and his blessed evangell be suppressed and extinguesshed? [sn: against suche as under colour of authoritie persequte thair bretherin.] "the name and the cloke of the authoritie, whiche ye pretend, will nothing excuse yow in godis presence; but rather sall ye beir duble condempnatioun; for that ye burdeane god, as that his good ordinance wer the caus of your iniquitie. all authoritie quhilk god hath establisshed, is good and perfyte, and is to be obeyed of all men, yea under the pane of damnatioun. [sn: difference betuix the persone and the authoritie.] but do ye nocht understand, that thair is a great difference betuix the authoritie quhiche is goddis ordinance, and the personis of those whiche ar placit in authoritie? the authoritie and goddis ordinance can never do wrang; for it commandeth, that vice and wickit men be punischit, and vertew, with verteous men and just, be maynteaned. but the corrupt persone placed in this authoritie may offend, and most commonelie doeth the contrare heirof; and is than the corruptioun of the persone to be followed, be ressone that he is cled with the name of the authoritie? or, sall those that obey the wicked commandiment of those that ar placed in authoritie be excusable befoir god? nocht so; nocht so. bott the plagues and vengeances of god tackin upoun kingis, thair servandis, and subjectis, do witnes to us the plane contrarie. pharao was a king, and had his authoritie of god, who commandit his subjectis to murther and torment the israelites, and at last most crewellie to persecut thair lyves. but was thare obedience, (blynd raige it should be called,) excusable befoir god? the universall plague doeth planelie declair, that the wicked commander, and those that obeyed, war alyke giltie befoir god. [sn: the fact of king saule.] and yf the example of pharao shalbe rejected, becaus he was ane ethnik, than lat us considder the factis of saule: he was a king anoynted of god, appoynted to regne ower his people, he commanded to persecut david, becaus (as he alledged) david was a traytour and usurper of the crowne; and lyekwyis commanded abimelech the hie preast and his fellowis to be slane: but did god approve any parte of this obedience? evident it is that he did nott. and think ye, that god will approve in yow that whiche he did dampne in otheris? be nocht deceaved: with god thair is no suche partialitie.[ ] yf ye obey the injust commandimentis of wicked rewlaris, ye sall suffer goddis vengeance and just punishment with thame. and thairfoir as ye tender your awin salvatioun, we most earnistlie requyre of yow moderatioun, and that ye stay your selfis, and the furye of utheris, from persecuting of us, till our cause be tryed in lauchfull and opin judgement. "and now, to yow that ar perswaded of the justice of our cause, that sumtyme have professed chryst jesus with us, and that also have exhorted us to this interpryse, and yit have left us in our extreme necessitie, or at the least look throw your fingaris, in this our truble, as that the matter apperteaned nocht unto yow; we say, that onles (all fear and warldlie respectis sett asyde) ye joyne your selffis with us, that as of god ye ar reputed traytouris, so shall ye be excomunicated from our societie, and from all participatioun with us in the administratioun of sacramentis. the glorie of this victorie, quhilk god shall geve to his churche, yea evin in the eyis of men, shall nocht apperteane to yow; bot the fearfull judgement, whiche apprehended ananias and his wyfe sapphyra, sall apprehend yow and your posteritie. [sn: lett both the one part and the uther judge yf god have nocht justified the caus of the innocentis.] ye may perchance contempne, and dispyise the excomunicatioun of the churche now by godis myghtie power erected amongis us, as a thing of no force; bot yit doubt we nothing, but that our churche, and the trew ministeris of the same, have the same power whiche our maister, christ jesus, granted to his apostles in these wordis, "whose synnis ye sall forgeve, shalbe forgevin; and whose synnis ye shall reteane, shall be reteaned;" and that, becaus thay preiche, and we beleve the same doctryne whiche is conteyned in his most blessed wourd. and thairfoir except that ye will contempne chryst jesus, ye nether can despyise our threatnyng, nether yit refuise us calling for your just defence. [sn: from quhens this corage did proceid the ishew declaired.] by your faynting, and by extracting of your support, the enimeis ar incoraged, thinking, that thay shall find no resistance: in whiche point, god willing, thay salbe deceaved. for gif thay war ten thowsand, and we bot are thowsand, thai sall nocht murther the least of our bretherin, but we (god assisting us) shall first committ our lyves in the handis of god for thair defence. but this shall aggravat your damnatioun; for ye declair your selfis boith traytouris to the treuth ones professed, and murtheraris of us, and of your bretherin, from whome ye draw your detfull and promisshed support, whome your onelie presence (to manis judgement) myght preserve from this danger. for our enimeis looke nocht to the power of god, bot to the force and strenth of man. when the nomber is mean to resist thame, than rage thay as bloody wolvis; bot a party equall or able to resist thame in apperance, doeth brydill thair fury. examinat your awin consciencis, and wey that sentence of our maister, chryst jesus, saying, "whosoevir denyeth me, or is aschamed of me befoir men, i shall deny him befoir my father." now is the day of his battell in this realme: yf ye deny us, your bretherin, suffering for his name's saik, ye do also deny him, as him self doeth witnes in these wordis, "whatsoevir ye did to any of these litill ones, that ye did to me; and what ye did nocht to one of those litill ones, that ye did nocht to me." gif these sentencis be trew, as concerning meat, drink, cloithing, and suche thingis as apperteane to the body, shall thai not be lykewyis trew in these thingis that apperteane to the preservatioun of the lyves of thowsandis, whose bloode is now sought, for professioun of christ jesus? and thus schortlie leave we yow, who sumtymes have professed christ jesus with us, to the examinatioun of your awin consciencis. and yit ones agane, of yow, who, blynded by superstitioun persecute us, we requyre moderatioun, till our cause may be tryed, whiche gif ye will nocht grant unto us for godis cause, yit we desyre yow to have respect to the preservatioun of our commone cuntree, whiche we can not sonnar betray in the handis of strangeris, than that one of us distroy and murther ane uther. considder our petitionis, and call for the spreit of richteous judgement." these our letteris being divulgat, some man began to reasoun whether of conscience thai myght invaid us or not, considdering that we offered dew obedience to the authoritie; requiring nothing bot the libertie of conscience, and our religioun and fact to be tryed by the word of god. oure letteris came with convenient expeditioun to the handis of the bretherin in cuninghame and kyle, who convened at the kirk of craggie,[ ] whare, efter some contrarious reassonis, alexander erle of glencarne, in zeall, burst furth in these wordis, "lat everie man serve his conscience. i will, by goddis grace, see my bretherin in sanct johnestoun: yea, albeit never man should accumpany me, i will go, and gif it war bot with a pick upoun my shulder; for i had rather dye with that cumpany, nor leve efter thame." these wordis so encoraged the rest, that all decreed[ ] to go fordward, as that thai did so stoutlie, that when lyoun herault, in his coat armour, commanded all man under the pane of treassone to returne to thair housses by publict sound of trumpett in glasgw, never man obeyed that charge, but all went fordward, as we will efter hear. when it was clearlie understand that the prelattis and thair adherantis, suppressing our petitionis so far as in thame lay, did kindill the furye of all men against us, it was thoght expedient to writt unto thame sum declaratioun of our myndis, whiche we did in this forme following:-- "to the generatioun of antichrist, the pestilent prelattis and thare schavillingis within scotland, the congregatioun of christ jesus within the same, sayeth, "to the end that ye shall not be abused, thinking to eschaipe just punishment, efter that ye in your blind fury have caused the bloode of many to be sched, this we notifie and declair unto yow, that yf ye proceid in this your malicious creweltie, ye shalbe entreated, wharesoevir ye shalbe apprehended, as murtheraris and oppin enimeis to god and unto mankind; and thairfoir, betymes cease from this blind raige. remove first from your selfis your bandis of bloody men of warre, and reforme your selffis to a more quiet lyve; and thairefter mitigat ye the authoritie whiche, without cryme committed upoun our parte, ye have inflammit aganis us; or ellis be ye assured, that with the same measure that ye have measured against us, and yit intend to measure to utheris, it salbe measured unto yow: that is, as ye by tyranny intend nocht onelie to destroy our bodyis, bot also by the same to hold our sowllis in bondage of the devill, subject to idolatrie, so shall we with all force and power, whiche god shall grant unto us, execut just vengeance and punishment upoun yow. yea, we shall begyn that same warre whiche god commanded israell to execut aganis the cananites; that is, contract of peace shall never be maid, till ye desist from your oppin idolatrie and crewell persecutioun of godis childrein. and this we signifie unto yow in the name of the eternall god, and of his sone christ jesus, whose veritie we profess, and evangell we will have preached, and holy sacramentis ryghtlie minstrat, so long as god will assist us to ganestand your idolatrie. tak this for advertisment, and be nocht deceaved." [sn: speikaris send by the quene to sanct johnestoun.] these our requeistis and advertismentis nochtwithstanding, monsieur dosell and his frenchemen, with the preastis and thair bandis, marched fordward against sanct johnestoun, and approched within ten myles to the town. than repaired the bretherin from all quartaris for our releaff. the gentilmen of fyffe, anguss, and mernis, with the town of dundie, war thay that first hasarded to resist the enimie; and for that purpoise was chosin a platt of ground,[ ] a myle and more distant from the town. in this meantyme the lord ruthven, provest of the town of sanct johnestoun, and a man whome many judged godlie and stout in that actioun, (as in verray dead he was evin unto his last breath,[ ]) left the town, and depairtit first to his awin place, and efter to the quene: whose defectioun and revolt was a great discoragement to the hartis of many; and yit did god so confort,[ ] that within the space of tuelf houris efter, the hartis of all men war erected agane; for those that war than assembillit did nocht so muche houp victorie by thair awin strenth, as by the power of him whose veritie they professed; and began one to confort another, till the hole multitude was erected in a reasonable esperance. the day efter that the lord ruthven depairted, whiche was the of maij, cam the erle of argyle, lord james, priour of sanctandrois, and the lord sempill, directed from the quene regent to inquire the caus of that convocatioun of liegis thare. to quhome, quhen it was ansuered, that it was onelie to resist that crewell tyranny devised against that poore town, and the inhabitants of the same, thay asked, "gif we myndit nocht to hold that town against the authoritie, and against the quene regent?" to the whiche questioun ansuered the lairdis of dun and pittarro, with the congregatioun of anguss and mernis, the maister of lyndesay, the lairdis of lundy, balvaird,[ ] and otheris barronis of fyffe, "that gif the quenis grace wald suffer the religioun thare begun to proceid, and nocht truble thair bretherin and sisteris that had professed christ jesus with thame, that the town, thay thame selffis, and quhatsoevir to thame perteaned, should be at the quenis commandiment." [sn: the fals suggestioun of the quene regent.] whiche ansuer understand,[ ] the erle of ergyle and the priour (quho boith war than protestantis) began to muse, and said planelie, that thay war far utherwayis informed by the quene, to witt, "that we mentt no religioun, but a plane rebellioun." to the whiche when we had answered simplie, and as the treuth was, to wit, "that we conveaned for none other purpose, bot onelie to assist our brethrein, who than war most injustlie persecuted; and thairfoir we desyred thame faithfullie to report our answer, and to be intercessouris to the quene regent, that suche creweltie suld nocht be usit against us, considering that we had offered in our former letteris, alsweill to the quenis grace, as to the nobilitie, our mater to be tryed in lauchfull judgement." thay promesed fidelitie in that behalff, whiche also thay keipt. the day efter, whiche was the day of maij, befoir that the saidis lordis depairted, in the morning johne knox desyred to speak with the same lordis; whiche grantit unto him, he was conveyed to thair ludgeing by the laird of balvaird,[ ] and thus he began:-- [sn: the oratioun of johne knox to the lordis.] "the present trublis, honorable lordis, owght to move the hartis, nocht onlie of the trew servandis of god, bot also of all suche as beare any favour to thare cuntree, and naturall cuntreymen, to discend within thame selfis and deiplie to considder quhat shalbe the end of this pretended tyranny. the raige of sathan seaketh the destructioun of all those that within this realme professe christ jesus; and thay that inflambe the quenis grace, and yow the nobles aganis us, regard nocht who prevaill, provided that thay may abuse the warld, and leve at thair pleasour, as heirtofoir thay have done. yea, i fear that some seak nothing more than the effusioun of scottis bloode, to the end that thair possessionis may be more patent to utheris. bot, becaus that this is nocht the principall whiche i have to speak, omitting the same to be considderit by the wisdome of those to quhome the cair of the commone wealth apperteaneth. " st. i most humbillie require of yow, my lordis, in my name, to say to the quenis grace regent, that we, who sche in hir blynd raige doeth persecute, ar goddis servandis, faithfull and obedient subjectis to the authoritie of this realme; that that religioun, whiche sche pretendeth to maynteyne by fyre and sweard, is nott the trew religioun of christ jesus, bot is expres contrarie to the same; a superstitioun devised be the brane of man; whiche i offer my selff to prove aganis all that within scotland will maynteane the contrarie, libertie of towng being granted unto me, and godis writtin word being admitted for judge. [sn: lett the papistes, rather ambitious romanistis, judge.] " d. i farder require your honouris, in my name, to say unto hir grace, that as of befoir i have writtin, sa now i say, that this hir interpryise shall nocht prosperouslie succeid in the end; and albeit for a tyme sche truble the sanctis of god, for sche feghteth nocht aganis man onelie, bot against the eternall god and his invincible veritie; and thairfoir, the end shalbe hir confusioun, oneles betymes sche repent and desist. "these thingis i require of yow, in the name of the eternall god, as from my mouth, to say unto hir grace; adding, that i have bein, and am a more assured friend to hir grace, than thay that either flattering hir ar servandis to hir corrupt appetytes,[ ] or ellis inflambe hir against us, who seik nothing bot goddis glorie to be advanceit, vice to be suppressed, and veritie to be maynteaned in this poore realme." [sn: the diligence of the erle of glencarne, and of the bretherin of the west, for the releif of sanct johnestoun.] thei all three did promese to report his wordis sa fer as thai culd, whiche efterwardis we understoode thai did. yea, the lord semple[ ] him self, a man sold under syne, enymye to god and to all godlynes, did yit maik suche report, that the quene was sumquhat offended, that any man suld use suche libertie in hir presence. sche still proceaded in hir malice; for immediatelie thairefter sche send hir lyoun herauld,[ ] with letteris, straitlie chargeing all man to avoid the toun, under the pane of treasone. whiche letteris, efter he had declaired thame to the cheife men of the congregatioun, he publictlie proclamed the same, upoun sounday, the [ th] of maij.[ ] in this mean tyme, come sure knawlege to the quene, to the duke, and to monsieur dosell, that the erle of glencarne, the lordis uchiltrie and boyd, the young schiref of air, the lairdis of cragy wallace, sesnock, carnell, barr, gaitgirth,[ ] and the hole congregatioun of kyle and cuninghame, approched for our releve; and in verray dead thay came in suche diligence, and suche a nomber, that as the enymie had just caus to fear, so have all that professe christ jesus just matter to praise god for thair fidelitie and stout corage in that nead; for by thair presence was the tyranny of the enymie brydilled. thare diligence was suche, that albeit the passage by striveling, and sex myles above, was stoppit, (for thair lay the quene with hir bandis, and gart cutt the brigis upoun the watter of forth, gwdy and teath,[ ] above striveling,) yit maid thay suche expeditioun throw desert and montane, that thay prevented the enymie, and approched within sex myles to our campe, whiche than lay without the town, awaiting upoun the enymie, befoir that any assured knawlege come to us of thair cunning. their number was judged to[ ] to tuentie fyve hundreth men, whairof thair was hundreth horsmen. the quene understanding how the said erle and lordis, with thair cumpany approched, causit to besett all wayis, that na advertisment should come to us, to the end that we, dispared of support, myght condiscend to suche appointment as sche required; and send first to require, that some discreat men of our number wald cum and speik the duke and monsieur dosell, (who than with thair armye did lye at auchterardour,[ ] ten myles fra sanct johnestoun,) to the end that some reasonable appointment myght be had. sche had perswaded the erle of ergyle, and all utheris, that we ment nothing bot rebellioun; and thairfoir had he promisshed unto hir, that in case we should nocht stand content with ane reasonable appointment, he should declair him self plane enymie unto us, nochtwithstanding that he professed the same religioun with us. from us war send the laird of dun,[ ] the lard of inverquharitie,[ ] and thomas scot of abbotishall,[ ] to heir quhat appointment the quene wald offer. the duke and monsieur dosell required, "that the town should be maid patent, and that all thingis should be referred to the quenis plesour." [sn: the petitioun of the protestantis for randering of sanct johnestoun.] to the whiche thai answered, "that nather had thay commissioun so to promese, nather durst thay of conscience so perswaid thair bretherin. bot yf that the quenis grace wald promeise, that no inhabitant of the town should be trublit for any suche crymes as myght be alledged aganis thame for the lait mutatioun of religioun, and abolishment of idolatrie, and for douncasting the places of the same; yf sche wald suffer the religioun begun to go fordward, and leif the town at hir depairting free from the garysonis of frenche soldiouris, that thay wald labour at the handis of thair bretherin that the quene should be obeyed in all thingis." monsieur dosell perceaving the danger to be great, yf that are suddane appointment should nocht[ ] be maid; and that thay war nocht able to execut thair tyranny against us, after that the congregatioun of kyle (of quhose cuming we had no advertisment) should be joyned with us; with gud wordis dismissed[ ] the saidis lairdis to perswaid the bretherin to quiet concord. to the whiche all men war so weill mynded, that with one voce thay cryed, "curssed be thay that seak effusioun of bloode, war, or dissentioun. lett us possess christ jesus, and the benefite of his evangell, and none within scotland shalbe more obedient subjectis than we shalbe." with all expeditioun war send from striviling agane, (efter that the cuming of the erle of glencarne was knawin, for the enymie for fear quaiked,) the erle of ergyle and lord james foirsaid, and in thair cumpany a crafty man, maister gavine hammiltoun, abbot of kilwynning,[ ] who war send by the quene to finishe the appointment foirsaid. bot befoir that thay came, was the erle of glencarne and his honorable cumpany arryved in the town; and then began all men to praise god, for that he had so mercifullie hard thame in thare maist extreme necessitie, and had send unto thame suche releafe as was able, without effusioun of bloode, to stay the raige of the ennemy. the erle of ergyle and lord james did earnistlie perswaid the agreement,[ ] to the whiche all men was willing. but sum did smell the craft of the adversarie, to wit, that thay war mynded to keip no point of the promeise longar than thay had obteanit thair intent. [sn: the ansuer of the erle of ergyle, and priour of sanctandrois.] with the erle of glencarne come our loving brother johne willok; johne knox was in the town befoir. these two went to the erle of ergyle and priour, accusing thame of infidelitie, in sa fer as thay had defrauded thair brethering of thair debtfull support and confort in thair greatest necessitie. thay ansuered boith, "that thair hart was constant with thair bretherin, and that thay wald defend that caus to the uttermost of thair power. bot becaus thay had promesed to laubour for concord, and to assist the quene, in case we refuised ressonable offerris, of conscience and honour, thay culd do na less than be faithfull in thair promeise maid: and thairfoir thay required that the bretherin myght be perswaided to consent to that reassonable appointment; promesing, in goddis presence, that yf the quene did break in ony joit thairof, that thay, with thair hole poweris, wald assist and concur with thair bretherin in all tymes to cum." [sn: the promeise of the foirsaidis.] this promeise maid, the preacheouris appeased the multitude, and obteaned in the end that all men did consent to the appointment foirsaid, whiche thay obteaned nocht without great labouris. and no wonder, for many foirsaw the danger to follow; yea, the preacheouris thame selfis, in oppin sermone, did affirme planelie, "that thay war assuredlie perswaided that the quene mentt no treuth: bot to stop the mouth of the adversarie, who injustlie did burthein us with rebellioun, thay moist earnistlie requyred all men to approve the appointment, and so to suffer hypocresie to discloise the selff." this appointment was concluded the th of maij, and the day following, at tua efter none, depairted the congregatioun from sanct johnestoun, after that johne knox had, in his sermone, exhorted all men to constancie, and unfeanedlie to thank god, for that it had pleased his mercie to stay the raige of the ennemy, without effusioun of bloode; also, that no brother should weary nor faint to support suche as should efter be lykewyis persecuted, "for, (said he,) i am assured, that no pairt of this promeise maid shalbe longar keipit than the quene and hir frenchemen have the upper hand." many of the ennemeis war at the same sermone; for after that the appointment was maid, they had free entres in the town to provide ludgeingis. befoir the lordis depairted, was this band made, quhose tenour followis, as it was writtin and subscryved.-- "at perth, the last day of maij, the yeir of god j^m. v^c. fiftie nyne yeiris, the congregationis of the west cuntrey, with the congregationis of fyfe, perth, dundie, anguss, mearnis, and munross, being conveaned in the town of perth, in the name of jesus christ, for furthsetting of his glorie; understanding na thing mair necessar for the samin than to keap ane constant amitie, unitie, and fellowschipe togidder, according as thay ar commanded be god, ar confederat, and become bundin and obleast in the presence of god, to concur and assist together in doing all thingis required of god in his scripture, that may be to his glorie; and at thair haill poweris[ ] to distroy, and away put, all thingis that dois dishonour to his name, so that god may be trewlie and puirelie wirschipped: and in case that any truble beis intended aganis the saidis congregationis, or ony part, or member[ ] thairof, the haill congregatioun shall concur, assist, and conveane togidder, to the defence of the samin congregatioun, or persone trubled; and shall nocht spair laubouris, goodis, substancis, bodyis, and lyves, in manteaning the libertie of the haill congregatioun, and everie member thairof, aganis whatsomevir power that shall intend the said trubill, for caus of religioun, or ony uther caus dependand thairupoun, or lay to thair charge under pretence thairof, althocht it happin to be coloured with ony uther outward caus. in witnessing and testimony of the quhilkis, the haill congregationis foirsaidis hes ordeyned and appointit the noblemen and personis underwrittin to subscrive thir presentis. (_sic subscribitur_,) arch. ergyle. glencarne. james stewart. r. lord boyd. mathow campbell of teringland.[ ] uchiltrie. [sn: the first slauchter of the frenchemen.] the tuenty nine day of maij entered the quene, the duke, monsieur dosell, and the frenchemen, who, in dischargeing thair voley of hacquebuttis, did weill mark the hous of patrik murray,[ ] a man fervent in religioun, and that baldlie had susteaned all dangeris in that trubill; against whose stair thay directed vj or vij schott, evin aganis the faces of those that war thare lyand. all man eschaped, except the sone of the said patrik, a boy of ten or tuelf yearis of aige, who being slane, was had to the quenis presence. bot sche understanding whose sone he was, said in mokage, "it is a pitie it chanced on the sone, and nocht on the father; bot seing that so is chanced, me can nocht be against fortune." this was hir happie entress to sanct johnestoun, and the great zeall sche tendeth to justice. [sn: idolatrie erected against the appointment.] the swarme of papistis that entered with hir began streyght to mak provisioun for thair messe; and becaus the altaris war nocht so easy to be repaired agane, thay provided tables, whairof sum befoir used to serve for drunkards, dysaris, and carteris;[ ] bot thay war holy aneuch for the preast and his padgean. the quene began to raige against all godlie and honest men; thair housses was oppressed by the frenchemen; the lauchfull magistratis, alsweall provest as bailies, war injustlie, and without all ordour, deposed from thair authoritie. a wicked man, void of godis fear, and destitut of all vertew, the lard of kinfawnse, was intrused by hir provest above the town,[ ] wharat all honest men was offended. thay left thair awin housses, and with thair wyeffis and childrein sought amongis thare bretherin some resting place for a tyme. [sn: against the appointment the secund tyme.] sche tuk ordour that four ensenzeis of the soldiouris should abyde in the town to maynteane idolatrie, and to resist the congregatioun. honest and indifferent men asked, why sche did so manifestlie violat hir promeise? [sn: secund ansuer of quene regent.] sche answered, "that sche was bundin to keap na promeise to hereticques: and moreover, that sche promeist onelie to leave the town free of frenche soldiouris, whiche, (said sche,) sche did, becaus that those that thairin war left war scottishmen." bot when it was reasoned in hir contrair, that all those that took waiges of france, war counted frenche soldiouris: [sn: the thrid ansuer.] sche answered, "princes must nocht so straitlie be bundin to keap thair promesses. myself, (said sche,) wold mak litill conscience to tak from all that sorte thair lyves and inheritance, yf i myght do it with als honest ane excuise." and than sche left the town in extreme bondage, efter that hir ungodlie frenche men had most crewelly entreated the maist parte of those that remaned in the same. [sn: the departure of the erle of ergyle and lord james fra the quene regent, with suche as assisted thame and thair first band.] the erle of argyle, and lord james foirsaidis, perceaving in the quene nothing but meare tyrranny and falshode, myndfull of thair former promesses maid to thair bretherin, did secreidlie convey thame selfis and thair cumpanyeis of the town; and with thame departed the lord ruthven, (of whome befoir mentioun is maid,) the erle of menteith, and the laird of tullibardin;[ ] who, in godis presence, did confiderat, and bynd thame selfis togidder, faithfullie promessing one to assist and defend another against all personis that wald persew thame for religionis saik; and also that thay, with thair hole force and power, wald defend the bretherin persecuted for the same caus. the quene, heyghlie offended at the suddane departure of the personis foirsaidis, send charge to thame to returne, under the heighest pane of hir displeasour. [sn: the ansuer of the erll of ergyle.] bot thay ansuered, "that with saif conscience thay culd nocht be partakaris of so manifest tyrranny as by hir was committed, and of so great iniquitie as thay perceaved devised, by hir and hir ungodlie counsale the prelattis." this ansuer was gevin to hir the first day of junij, and immediatlie the erle of ergyle and lord james repaired toward sanctandrois, and in thair jorney gaif advertisment, by wrytting, to the laird of dun, to the laird of pittarrow, to the provest of dundie,[ ] and otheris, professouris in anguss,[ ] to visite thame in sanctandrois the feird[ ] of junij, for reformatioun to be maid thair. whiche day thay keap, and broght in thair cumpany johne knox, who, the first day, after his cuming to fyfe, did preache in carraill, the nixt day in anstruther, mynding the thrid day, whiche was the sounday,[ ] to preache in sanctandrois. the bischope, hearing of reformatioun to be maid in his cathedrall churche, thoght tyme to sturr, or ellis never; and thairfoir assembled his collegis[ ] and confederat fellowis, besydis his uther freindis, and came to the town upoun the setterday at night, accumpanyed with a hundreth spearis, of mynd to have stopped johne knox to have preached. the two lordis and gentilmen foirsaid war onlie accumpanyed with thair quyet housholdis, and thairfoir was the suddane cuming of the bischope the more fearfull; for than was the quene and hir frenchmen departed from sanct johnestoun, and war lying in falkland, within tuelf myles of sanctandrois; and the town at that tyme had not gevin professioun of christ, and thairfoir could nocht the lordis be assured of thair freindschip. consultatioun being had, many war of mynd that the preaching should be delayed for that day, and especiallie that johne knox should nocht preache; for that did the bischope affirme that he wald nocht suffer, considdering that by his commandiment the picture of the said johne was befoir brunt. [sn: the bischope his good mynde toward johne knox.] he willed, thairfoir, ane honest gentillman, robert colvile of cleishe,[ ] to say to the lordis, "that in case johne knox presented him selff to the preaching place, in his town and principall churche, he should gar him be saluted with a dosane of culveringis, quherof the most parte should lyght upoun his nose." after long deliberatioun had, the said johne was called, that his awin judgement might be had. when many perswationis war maid that he should delay for that tyme, and great terrouris gevin in caise he should interpryse suche a thing, as it war in contempt of the bischope. he ansuered, "god is witnes that i never preached christ jesus in contempt of any man, nather mynd i at any tyme to present my selff to that place, having ather respect to my awin privat commoditie, eyther yit to the warldlie hurt of any creature; but to delay to preache the morrow, (onless the bodie be violentlie withholdin,) i can nocht of conscience: for in this town and churche began god first to call me to the dignitie of a preacheour, from the whiche i was reft by the tyrranny of france, by procurement of the bischopis, as ye all weall aneuch know: how long i continewed prisoneir, what torment i susteaned in the galaies, and what war the sobbes of my harte, is now no tyme to receat: this onelie i can nocht conceall, whiche mo than one have hard me say, when the body was far absent from scotland, that my assured houp was, in oppin audience, to preache in sanctandrois befoir i depairtod this lyeff. and thairfoir (said he,) my lordis, seing that god, above the expectatioun of many, hath brocht the body to the same place whair first i was called to the office of a preacher, and from the whiche most injustlie i was removed, i beseak your honouris nocht to stop me to present my selff unto my bretherin. and as for the fear of danger that may come to me, lett no man be solist; for my lyef is in the custody of him whose glorie i seak; and thairfoir i can nocht so fear thair boast nor tyrranny, that i will cease from doing my dewetie, when of his mercie[ ] he offereth the occasioun. i desyre the hand nor weapone of no man to defend me; onelie do i crave audience; whiche, yf it be denyed heir unto me at this tyme, i must seak farther whare i may haif it." [sn: the reformatioun of sanctandrois.] at these his wordis,[ ] the lordis war fullie content that he should occupie the place; which he did upoun sounday, the [ th] of junij, and did entreat of the ejectioun of the byaris and the sellaris furth of the tempill of jerusalem, as it is writtin in the evangelistis mathow and johne; and so applyed the corruptioun that was thair[ ] to the corruptioun that is in the papistrie; and christis fact, to the dewetie of those to whome god geveth power and zeall thairto; that alsweill the magistratis, the provest and bailies, as the communaltie for the most parte, within the town,[ ] did aggree to remove all monumentis of idolatrie, whiche also thay did with expeditioun. [sn: cowper mure.] the bischope advertisshed heirof, departed that same day to the quene, who lay with hir frenchmen, as said is, in falkland. the hote furie of the bischope did so kendill hir choler, (and yit the luif was verrie cold betuix thame,) that without farder delay, conclusioun was taikin to invaid sanctandrois, and the two young lordis foirsaidis,[ ] who than war thare verrie sklendarlie accumpanyed. postis war send from the quene with all diligence to cowper, distant onelie sex myles from sanctandrois, to prepair ludgeingis and victuallis for the quene and hir frenchemen. ludgeingis war sygned, and furiouris[ ] war send befoir. whiche thing understand, counsale was gevin to the lordis to marche fordward, and to prevent thame befoir thay came to cowper; whiche thay did, geving advertisment to all bretherin with possible expeditioun to repair towardis thame; whiche thay also did, with suche diligence, that in thair assemblie the wonderous wark of god myght have bene espyed: for when at nyght the lordis came to cowper, thay war nocht a hundreth horse, and a certane footmen, whom lord james brocht fra the coast syde; and yit befoir the nixt day at houris, (whiche was tyisday, the of junij,) thair number passed three thowsand men, whiche by godis providence came unto the lordis; from lowthiane, the lairdis of ormestoun, calder, haltoun, restalrig, and coilstoun,[ ] who, albeit thay understood at thair depairting from thair awin houssis no suche truble, yit war thay by thair good counsale verrie confortable that day. the lord ruthven came from sanct johnestoun, with some horsmen with him. the erle of rothess, schireff of fyffe, came with a honest cumpany. the townis of dundie and sanctandrois declaired thame selffis boith stout and faithfull. cowper, becaus it stoode in greatest danger, assisted with the hole force. finallie, god did so multiplie our number, that it appeared as men had rayned from the cloodis. the ennemy understanding nothing of our force, assured thame selffis of victorie. who had bene in falkland the nicht befoir, mycht have sene embrasing and kyssing betuix the quene, the duke, and the bischope. [sn: maister gavine hammiltounis vow.] bot maister gavine hammiltoun, gapare for the bischoprik of sanctandrois, above all other was lovinglie embrased of the quene; for he maid his solempne vow, "that he wald feght, and that he should never returne till he had brought those traytouris to hir grace, eyther quick or dead." and thus, befoir midnyght, did thay send fordward thair ordinance; thame selffis did follow befoir three houris in the morning. the lordis heirof advertised, assembilled thair cumpany airelie in the morning upoun cowper mure;[ ] whare by the advise of maister james halyburtoun, provest of dundie, was chosen a place of ground convenient for our defence; for it was so chosen, that upoun all sydis our ordinance mycht have bett the ennemie, and yit we have stand in saiftie,[ ] gif we had bene persewed, till we had cumed to hand straikis. the lord ruthven tuik the charge of the horsmen, and ordered thame so, that the ennemy was never permitted to espy our nomber: the day was dark, whiche helpit thairto. the enemy, (as befoir is said,) thinking to have fundin no resistance, after that thay had twyis or thryis practised with us, as that thay wald retyre, marched fordward with great expeditioun, and approched within a myle befoir that evir thair horsmen stayed; and yit thay keipit betuix us and them a wattir for thair strenth. it appeared to us that ather thay marched for cowper or sanctandrois; and thairfoir our horsmen in thare trowpe, and a parte of the footemen, with the ordinance,[ ] marched somewhat alwayis befoir thame for safetie of the town: the lordis, with the gentilmen of fyffe, and sa many of anguss and mearnes as war present, keape thame selffis close in a knott, neye to the nomber of a thowsand speiris. the townis of dundie and sanctandrois war arrayed in ane uther battell, who come nocht to the sight of the ennemy, till that efter xij houris the mist began to evanish, and than passed some of thair horsmen to a montane, from the height whairof thay mycht discerne our nomber. whiche perceaved by thame, thare horsmen and footemen stayed incontinent. postis ran to the duke and monsieur dosell, to declair our nomber, and what ordour we keaped; and than was mediatouris send to maik appointment. but thay war nocht suffered to approche neye to the lordis, neyther yit to the view of our camp; whiche put thame in greatter fear. [sn: first answer at cowper mure.] answer was gevin unto thame, "that as we had offended no man, so wald we seak appointment of no man; bot yf any wald seak our lyves, (as we war informed thay did,) thay should find us, yf thay pleased to mak diligence." this answer receaved, war send agane the lord lyndesay and laird of wauchtoun,[ ] who earnestlie requeasted us to concord, and that we wold nocht be the occasioun that innocent bloode should be sched. [sn: the secund ansuer.] we ansuered, "that nather had we querrall against any man nather yit sought we any manis bloode; onelie we war conveaned for defence of our awin lyves injustlie sought by uther." we added forther, "that yf thay culd find the meane that we and our bretherin myght be free from the tyrranny devised against us, that thay should reasonabillie desyre nothing whiche should be denyed for our parte." this ansuer receaved, the duke and monsieur dosell, haveing commissioun of the quene regent, required that assurance mycht be taikin for eight dayis, to the end that indifferent men in the meantyme micht commone upoun sum finall aggrement of those thingis whiche than war in controversie. heirto did we fullie consent, albeit that in nomber and force we war far superiour; and for testificatioun heirof, we send unto thame our hand-writtis, and we lykewyis receaved thairis, with promess that within two or three dayis some discreat men should be send unto us, to sanctandrois, with farther knawlege of the quenis mynd. the tennour of the assurance was this:-- the assurance. "we, james duke of chattellerault, erle of arrane, lord hammiltoun, &c., and my lord dosell, lievtenant for the king in thir partis, for our selffis, our assistaris and partakeris, being presentlie with us in cumpany, be the tennour heirof promittis faithfullie of honour to my lordis archibald erle of ergyle, and james commendatar of the priorie of sanctandrois, to thair assistaris and partakeris, being presentlie with thame in cumpany; that we, and our cumpany foirsaidis, shall reteir incontinent to falkland, and shall, with diligence, transport the frenchemen and our uther folkis now presentlie with us; and that na frencheman, or other souldiouris of ouris, shall remane within the boundis of fyffe, bot sa mony as befoir the raising of the last armye lay in disart, kirkcaldy, and kinghorne, and the same to ly in the same places onelie, yf we shall think goode: and this to have effect for the space of eight dayis following the dait heirof _exclusive_, that in the meantyme certane noble men, be the advise of the quenis grace, and rest of the counsale, may conveane to talk of sick thingis as may maik goode ordour and quyetnes amongis the quenis liegis. and further, we, nor nane of our assistaris, being present with us, shall invade, truble, or inquyet the saidis lordis, nor thair assistaris, dureing the said space: and this we bind and obleise us, upoun our lautie, fidelitie, and honour, to observe and keape in everie point above writtin, but fraude or gyle. in witnes whairof we have subscrivit thir presentis with our handis. "at garlabank,[ ] the xiij daij of junii . [signed] [signed] _the uther subscriptioun we culd nocht read, bot the simile is this_,--[ ] [signed] and, this receaved, we departed first, becaus we war thairto requeasted be the duke, and so we returned to cowper, lawding and praising god for his mercie schewed; and thairefter everie man departed to his duelling place. the lordis, and a great part of the gentilmen, passed to sanctandrois, who thair abode certane dayis, still looking for those that war promessed to come frome the quene, for appointment to be maid. bot we perceaving hir craft and disceat, (for under that assurance sche ment nothing ellis, but to convey hir selff, hir ordinance, and frenche men, over the wattir of forth,) took consultatioun what should be done[ ] for delivering of sanct johnestoun from these ungodlie soldiouris, and how our bretherin, exiled from thair awin housses, mycht be restored agane. [sn: the deliverance of sanct johnestoun.] it was concluded, that the bretherin of fyffe, anguss, mearnis, and stratherin, should convene at sanct johnestoun, the day of junij for that purpoise; and in the meantyme, war these letteris writtin be the erle of ergyle and lord james, to the quene than regent. [sn: letteris to the quene regent.] "madame,--efter our hartlie commendationis of service, this shalbe to schaw your grace, that upoun the day of junij, we war informed by thame that war communeris betuix my lord duke, monsieur dosell, and us, that we should have spoken irreverentlie of your grace, whiche we beseik your grace, for the trew service that we have maid, and ar reddy to maik at all tymes to your grace; that of your goodnes ye will lat us knaw the sayeris thairof, and we shall do the dewetie of trew subjectis to defend our awin innocencie; as we tak god to witnes of the gud zeale and love we beir towardis yow, to serve yow with trew hartis and all that we have, alsweill landis as goodis, desyring na uther thing for our service bot the libertie of our conscience, to serve our lord god as we will ansuer to him, whiche your grace aucht and should geve to us frelie unrequired. mairover, please your grace, that my lord duik, and the noble men being in striveling for the tyme, be your gracis avise, solisted us to pass to the congregatioun convened at the town of perth, to commoun of concord, whair we did our exact diligence, and brocht it to pas, as your grace knawis. and thair is a point that we plane is nocht observed to us, whiche is, that na soldiour should remane in the town, after your grace departing. and suppois it may be inferred, that it was spokin of frenche soldiouris allanerlie, yit we tuik it utherwais, lyik as we do yit, that scottishmen, or any uther natioun, takand the king of francis waiges, ar repute and haldin frenche soldiouris. thairfoir, sen we of good will and mynde brocht that matter to your gracis contentment, it will please your grace, of your goodnes, to remove the soldiouris and thair capitanes, with utheris that hes gottin charge of the town, that the same may be guyded and reulled frelie, as it was befoir, be the baillies and counsale, conforme to thair infeftmentis gevin to thame be the ancient and maist excellent kingis of this realme, to elect and cheise thair officiaris at michelmess, and thai to indure for the space of one yeir, conforme to the auld ryte and consuetude of this realme; whiche being done be your grace, we traist the better success shall follow thairupoun to your grace contentatioun,[ ] as the bearar will declair at mair lenth to your grace; whome god preserve." [sn: the summoning of sanct johnestoun.] to sanct johnestoun, with the gentilmen befoir expressed, did conveane the erle of menteath,[ ] the lard of glenurquhar,[ ] and diverse utheris who befoir had nocht presented thame selffis for defence of thair bretherin. when the hole multitude was conveaned, a trumpet was send by the lordis, commanding the capitanes and thair bandis to avoid the town, and to leave it to the ancient libertie and just inhabitantis of the same; alsua commanding the laird of killfaunes,[ ] insett provest be the quene, with the capitanes foirsaidis, to cast up the portis of the town, and maik the same patent to all our soveraneis liegis, to the effect, that alsweill trew religioun now aneis begun thairin may be maynteaned, and idolatrie utterlie suppressed; as alsua the said town mycht joise and brooke thair ancient lawis and liberteis unoppressed by men of wear, according to thair old privilegis granted to thame be the ancient princes of this realme, and conforme to the provisioun conteaned in the contract of mariage maid be the nobilitie and parliament of this realme with the king of france, beirand, that nane of our aid lawis nor liberteis should be alterat: adding thairto, gif they folishlie resisted, and thairin happined to commit murther, that thay should be entreated as murtheraris. to the whiche thay ansuered prowdlie, "that thay wald keap and defend that town, according to thair promess maid to the quene regent." [sn: communing at sanct johnestoun.] this answer receaved, preparatioun was maid for the seage and assault; for amangis all it was concluded, that the town should be sett at libertie, to what dangeris soever thair bodyis should be exponed. whill preparatioun was in making, came the erle of huntlie, the lord erskin, and maister johne bannatyne, justice clerk,[ ] requireing that the persute of the town should be delayed. to speak thame war appointed the erle of ergyle, lord james, and lord ruthven, who, perceaving in thame nothing but a drift of tyme, without any assurance that the former wrangis should be redressed, gave unto thame schort and plane ansuer, "that thay wald nocht delay thair purpoise ane hour; and thairfoir willed thame to certifie the capitanes in the town, that gif by pryde and foolishnes thay wald keape the town, and in so doing slay any of thair bretherin, that thay should everie one dye as murtheraris." the erle of huntlie displeased at this ansuer, departed, as hielie offended that he culd nocht dress suche appointment as should have contented the queue and the preastis. after thair departing, the town was agane summondit; bot the capitanes, supposing that na suddane persute should be maid, and looking for releif to have bein send from the quene, abode in thair former opinioun. and so upoun setterday, the [ th] of junij, at ten houris at nycht, commanded the lord ruthven, who beseaged the west quarter, to schoote the first voley; whiche being done, the town of dundie did the lyke, whose ordinance lay upoun the eist syde of the brig. the capitanes and soldiouris within the town, perceaving that thai war unable long to resist, required assurance till xij houris upoun the morne, promessing, "that gif or that hour thair came unto thame na releaf frome the quene regent, that thay wald rander the town, providing that thay should be suffered to departe the town with ensenzie displayed." we, thrusting the bloode of no man, and seaking onlie the libertie of our bretherin, condiscended to thair desyris, albeit that we mycht have executed against thame jugement without mercie, for that thay had refused our former favouris, and had slane one of our bretherin, and hurt two in thair resistance;[ ] and yit we suffered thame freelie to depart without any forther molestatioun. [sn: the bischope of murray.] the town being delivered from thare thraldome, upoun sounday the [ th] of junij, thankis war gevin unto god for his great benefite receaved, and consultatioun was taikin what was forder to be done. in this meantyme, four[ ] zealous men, considdering how obstinat, prowde, and dispitefull the bischope of murray[ ] had bein befoir; how he had threatned the town be his soldiouris and freindis, who lay in skune,[ ] thought good that some ordour should be taikin with him and with that place, whiche lay neir to the town end. the lordis wrait unto him, (for he lay[ ] within two myles to sanet johnestoun,) "that oneles he wald cum and assist thame, thay nather culd spair nor save his place." he ansuered be his writing, "that he wold cum, and wold do as thay thoght expedient; that he wold assist thame with his force, and wald vote with thame against the rest of the clargie in parliament." bot becaus this ansuer was slaw in cuming, the town of dundie, partelie offended for the slauchter of thair man, and especiallie bearing no goode favour to the said bischope, for that he was and is cheif ennemy to christ jesus, and that by his counsale alone was walter mylne our brother put to death, thay marched fordward. to stay thame was first send the provest of dundie, and his brother alexander halyburtoun, capitane, who litill prevaling, was send unto thame johne knox; bot befoir his cuming, thay war entered to the pulling down of the ydollis and dortour. and albeit the said maister james halyburtoun, alexander his brother, and the said johne, did what in thame lay to have stayed the furie of the multitude, yit war thay nocht able to put ordour universalie; and tharfoir thay send for the lordis, erle of ergyle, and lord james, who, cuming with all diligence, laboured to have saved the palace and the kirk. [sn: the distructioun of scone.] bot becaus the multitude had fundin, bureid in the kirk, a great number of idollis, hid of purpose to have preserved thame to a bettir day, (as the papistis speak,) the townis of dundie and sanct johnestoun culd nocht be satisfeit, till that the hole reparatioun and ornamentis of the churche, (as thay terme it,) war distroyed. and yit did the lordis so travell, that thay saved the bischopis palace, with the churche and place, for that nicht: for the two lordis did nocht depart till thay brocht with thame the hole nomber of those that most sought the bischopis displesour. the bischope, greatlie offended that any thing should have bein interprised in reformatioun of his place, asked of the lordis his band and hand-writting, whiche nocht two houris befoir he had send to thame. whiche delivered to his messinger, sir adame brown,[ ] advertisment was gevin, that yf any farder displesour chanced unto him, that he should nocht blame thame. the bischopis servandis, that same nycht, began to fortifie the place agane, and began to do violence to some that war careing away suche baggage as thay culd cum by. the bischopis girnell was keapt the first nycht by the laubouris of johne knox, who, by exhortatioun, removed suche as violentlie wald have maid irruptioun. that same nycht departed from sanct johnestoun the erle of ergyle, and lord james, as efter shalbe declaired. [sn: the caus of the burning of scone.] the morrow following, some of the poore, in houp of spoyle, and sum of dundie, to considder what was done, passed up to the said abbay of scone; whairat the bischopis servandis offended, began to threattene and speak proudlie: and, as it was constantlie affermed, one of the bischopis sonis stogged throuch with a rapper one of dundie, for becaus he was looking in at the girnell door. this brute[ ] noysed abrode, the town of dundie was more enraged than befoir, who, putting thame selffis in armour, send word to the inhabitants of sanct johnestoun, "that onles thay should supporte thame to avenge that injurie, that thai should never after that day concur with thame in any actioun." the multitud easelie inflambed, gave the alarme,[ ] and so was that abbay and palace appointit to saccag; in doing whairof thay took no lang deliberatioun, bot committed the hole to the merciment of fyre; wharat no small nomber of us war offended, that patientlie we culd nocht speak till any that war of dundie or sanct johnestoun. [sn: speaking of ane ancient matrone when scone was burning.] a poore aged matrone, seing the flambe of fyre pas up samichtelie, and perceaving that many war thairat offended, in plane and sober maner of speaking, said, "now i see and understand that goddis judgementis ar just, and that no man is able to save whare he will punische. since my remembrance, this place hath bein nothing ellis bot a den of hooremongaris. it is incredible to beleve how many wyffes hath bein adulterat, and virginis deflored, by the filthie beastis whiche hath bein fostered in this den; bot especiallie by that wicked man who is called the bischope. yf all men knew alsmuche as i, thay wald praise god; and no man wald be offended." this woman duelt into the toun, neye unto the abbay; at whose wordis war many pacifeid; affirming with hir, that it was goddis just judgement. and assuredlie, yf the laubouris or travell of any man culd have saved that place, it had nocht bein at that tyme destroyed;[ ] for men of greattest estimatioun lawboured with all diligence for the savetie of it. [sn: the taking of striviling.] whill these thingis war done at sanct johnestoun, the quene, fearing what should follow, determinat to send certane bandis of frenche soldiouris to striveling, for purpose to stop the passage to us that than war upoun the north syde of forth. whiche understand, the erle of ergyle and lord james departed secreatlie upoun the nycht, and with great expeditioun, preventing the frenchemen, thay took the town, (befoir whose cuming the rascheall multitude put handis in the thevis, i should say, frearis places and utterlie distroyed thame;) wharat the quene and hir factioun nocht a litill affrayed, with all diligence departed from edinburgh to dumbar. and so we with reasonable diligence merched fordwart to edinburgh, for reformatioun to be maid thair, whare we arrived the of junij. [sn: lord seytoun.] the provest for that tyme, the lord seytoun, a man without god, without honestie, and oftentymes without reasone, had befoir greatlie trubled and molested the bretherin; for he had taikin upoun him the protectioun and defence of the blak and gray frearis; and for that purpose did nocht onelie lye him self in the one everie nicht, bot also constraned the most honest of the town to wache those monstouris, to thair great greaf and truble. [sn: the cuming of the congregatioun to edinburgh.] bot hearing of our suddane cuming, he abandoned his charge, and had left the spoile to the poore, who had maid havock of all suche thingis as was movable in those placis befoir our cuming, and had left nothing bot bair wallis, yea, nocht sa muche as door or windok; wharthrow we war the less trubilled in putting ordour to suche places. after that certane dayis we had deliberat what was to be done, and that ordour was tackin for suppressing of all monumentis of idolatrie within that town, and the places nixt adjacent, determinatioun was taikin, to send some message[ ] to the quene, than regent; for sche had bruted, (as hir accustomed maner was, and yit hir dochteris is, ever to forge lyes,) that we sought nothing bot hir lyef, and a plane revoltment from the lawfull obedience dew to our soverane, hir authoritie, as by the tennour of these letteris may be sene:-- "frances and marie, be the grace of god, king and quene of scottis, daulphine and daulphines of viennois, to our lovittis, lyoun king of armes, &c., our schireffis in that parte, conjunctlie and severallie, specialie constitute, greting: for sa mekle as our darrest moder marie, quene dowager, regent of our realme, and lordis of our secreat counsale, perceaving the seditious tumult rased be ane parte of our liegis, nameing thame selffis the congregatioun, who, under pretense of religioun, have putt thame selffis in armes;[ ] and that hir grace, for satisfeing of everie manis conscience, and pacifeing of the saidis trubles, had offerred unto thame to affix ane parliament to be haldin in januare nixt to cum, (this was a manyfest leye, for this was nether offerred, nor by hir ancis thought upoun, till we required it,) or sonnar, gyf thay had pleased, for establissing of ane universall ordour in matteris of religioun, be our advise and estatis of our realme;[ ] and, in the meantyme, to suffer everie man to leaf at libertie of conscience, without truble, unto the tyme the said ordour war tackin be advise of our foirsaid [estates.[ ]] and at last, becaus it appeared mekle to stand upoun our burght of edinburght, offerred in lyke maner to latt the inhabitants thairof chease what maner of religioun thai wald sett up and use for that tyme; swa that na man mycht alledge that he was forsed to do against his conscience: quhilk offer the quenis grace, our said darrest moder, was at all tymes, and yit is, ready to fulfill. nochttheles, the said congregatioun being of mynd to receave no reasonable offerris, hes sensyne, by oppin dead, declaired, that it is na religioun, nor any thing thairto perteaning, that thai seak, bot onelie the subversioun of our authoritie, and usurpatioun of our crown; in manifest witnessing whairof, thay daylie receave inglismen with messagis unto thame, and sendis siclyk in ingland; and last of all, have violentlie intrometted with, taikin, and yit withhaldis the irnis of our cunzee hous,[ ] quhilk is ane of the cheife pointis that concernis our crown; and siclyke lies intrometted with our palice of halirudhouse. oure will is heirfoir, &c., that ye pas to the mercat croce of our said burght of edinburght, or any uther publict place within the same, and thair, be oppin proclamatioun in our name and authoritie, command and charge all and sindrie personis of the said congregatioun, or yit being presentlie within our said burght other than the inhabitantis thairof, that thay, within sex houris nixt efter our said charge, depart furth of the same under the pane of treasone; and als, that ye command and charge all and sindrie personis to leave thair cumpany, and adhear to our authoritie; with certificatioun to suche as do the contrare, shalbe repute and haldin as manifest traytouris to our crowne, &c." these letteris did nocht a litill greave us, who most injustlie war accused; for thare is never a sentence of the narrative trew, except that we stayed the irnes, and that for most just causses, to witt, because that daylie thair was suche nomber of hard-headis printed,[ ] that the basenes thairof maid all thingis exceiding dear; and thairfoir we war counsaled by the wysest to stay the irnes,[ ] whill farther ordour mycht be tackin. sche, with all possible diligence, posted for hir factioun. maister james balfour was nocht ydill in the meantyme. the lordis, to purge thame of these odious crymes, wrait unto hir a letter, in forme as efter followeth:-- [sn: the thrid letter to the quene regent.] "pleas your grace, be advertist, it is cum to our knowlcge, that your grace hath sett furth, be your letteris openelie proclamed that we, called by name the congregatioun, under pretence and colour of religioun, convene togidder to na uther purpose bot to usurpe our soveraneis authoritie, and to invaid your persone representand thairis at this present: quhilkis thingis appeiris to have proceidit of sinister informatioun, maid to your grace be our ennemeis, considdering that we never mynded sic thing, bot onelie our mynd and purpose was and is to promote and sett furth the glorie of god, maynteane and defend the trew preacharis of his word; and according to the same, abolish and put away idolatrie and false abuses, whiche may nocht stand with the said word of god: beseaking your grace to bear patientlie thairwith, and interpone your authoritie to the furtherance of the same, as is the dewetie of everie christiane prince and good magistrat. for as to the obedience of our soveraneis authoritie in all civile and politick matteris, we ar and shalbe als obedient as ony uther your gracis subjectis within the realme; and that our conventioun is for na uther purpose bot to save our preacheouris and thair auditouris fra the injurie and violence of our enymeis, quhilk should be mair amplie declaired be some of us in your gracis presence, yf yow war nocht accumpanyed with such as hes persewit our lyves and sought our bloode. thus, we pray almyghtie god to have your hienes in his eternall tuitioun. "at edinburght, the secund of julij ." and for farther purgatioun heirof, it was thocht necessar that we should sempillie expone, alsweill to hir grace as to the hole people, what war our requeastis and just petitionis. and for that purpoise, after that salf conduct was purchessed and granted, we directed unto hir two grave men of our counsale, to witt, the lardis of pittarrow and cuninghamheid,[ ] to whame we gaif commissioun and power, first, to expone our hole purpose and intent, whiche was none other than befoir at all tymes we had required, to witt, that we mycht injoy the libertie of conscience. secundlie, [that] christ jesus mycht be trewlie preached, and his holie sacramentis rychtlie ministrat unto us. [thirdly,] that unable ministeris micht be removed from ecclesiasticall administratioun; and that our preacheouris mycht be relaxit from the horne, and permitted to execut thair chargis without molestatioun, unto such tyme as ather by a generall counsale, lauchfullie convened, or by a parliament within the realme, the contraverseis in religioun wer decided. and, for declaratioun that hir grace was heirto willing, that the bandis[ ] of frenche men, who than war a burthein untollerable to the cuntrey, and to us so fearfull, that we durst nocht in peaciable and quiet maner hant the places whare thay did lye, should be send to france, thair native cuntrey: whiche thing is granted, hir grace should have experience of our accustomed obedience. [sn: the craftynes of the quene regent may yit be espyed.] to these headis sche did answer at the first so plesandlie, that sche put boith our commissioneris in full esperance that all should be granted; and for that purpose, sche desyred to speak with sum of greatter authoritie, promesing, that yf thay wald assure hir of thair detfull[ ] obedience, that sche wald deny nothing of that whiche was required. for satisfactioun of hir mynd, we send agane the erle of glencarne, the lord ruthven, the lord uchiltrie, and the said lard of pittarrow, with the same commissioun as of befoir. bot than sche began to handill the matter more craftelie, compleaning that sche was nocht sought in a gentill maner; and that thay in whome sche had put maist singular confidence, had left hir in hir greattest neid; and suche uther thingis, perteaning nothing to thair commissioun, proponed sche, to spend and dryve the tyme. thai answered, "that, by injust tyranny devised aganis thame and thair bretherin, (as hir grace did weill know,) thay war compelled to seak the extreme remedie; and thairfoir, that hir grace aucht nocht to wonder thocht godlie men left the cumpany whare thai nether fand fidelitie nor treuth." in the end of this communing, whiche was the xij day of julij , sche desyred to have talked privelie with the erle of ergyle, and lord james, priour of sanctandrois, "for ellis, (as sche alledged,) sche culd nocht bot suspect that thai pretendit to some uther hiear purpose nor religioun." [sn: accusationis.] sche and hir craftie counsale had abuesd the duke, perswaiding unto him, and unto his freindis, that the saidis erle and priour had conspyred, first to deprive our soverane hir dochter of hir authoritie, and thairefter the duke and his successioun of thair titill to the crown of scotland. by these invented lyes, sche inflambed the hartis of many against us, in so muche that some of our awin number began to murmur; whiche perceaved, alsweall the preacheouris, in thair publict sermonis, as we our selffis, by our publict proclamationis, gave purgatioun and satisfactioun to the people, planelie and simplie declairing what was our purpose, tacking god to witnes, that no suche crymes ever entered in our hartis as most injustlie was layed to our charge. the counsale, efter consultatioun, thocht nocht expedient that the saidis erle and priour should talk with the quene in ony sort; for hir former practises put all men in suspitioun, that some deceat lurked under suche colorat commoning. sche had befoir said, that yf sche culd by any meane sunder those two from the rest, sche was assured schortlie to cum by hir hole purpose; and one of hir cheaf counsale in those dayis, (and we fear bot over inward with hir yit,) said, "that or michelmess day, thay two should leaf thair headis;" and thairfoir all men feared to committ two suche young plantis to hir mercie and fidelitie. it was, thairfoir, finallie denyed that thai should talk [with] the quene, or ony to hir apperteaning, bot in places void of all suspitioun, whare thay should be equall in nomber with those that should talk [with] thame. [sn: the communing at preston.] the quene perceaving that hir craft culd nocht prevaill, was content that the duke's grace and the erle of huntlie, with utheris by hir appointed, should convene at prestoun, to commone [with] the saidis erle and priour, and suche utheris as the lordis of the congregatioun wald appoint, to the nomber of ane hundreth on the syde, of the whiche nomber aucht personis onelie should meit for conference. the principallis for thair partie war, the duke, the erle huntlie, the lordis erskin and somervell, maister gavine hammiltoun, and the justice clerk.[ ] from us war directed the erlis of ergyle and glencarne, the lordis ruthven, lord james, boyd, and uchiltrie, the lairdis dun and pittarrow, who, conveaning at prestoun, spak the hole day without any certane conclusioun: for this was the practise of the quene, and of hir factioun, by dryft of tyme to weary our cumpany, who, for the most parte, had bein upoun the feildis from the tent day of maij, that we being dispersed, sche mycht cum to hir purpose. in whiche sche was nocht altogidder deceaved; for our commonis war compelled to skaill for lack of expenssis, and our gentilmen, partelie constraned be lack of furnessing, and partlie houping sum small appointment, after so many communingis, returned for the most parte to thair duelling places, for reposing of thame selffis. [sn: the demand of quene regent, and answer of the protestantis.] the quene, in all these conventionis, seamed that sche wald geve libertie to religioun, provided, "that wharesoever sche was, our preacheouris sould cease, and the masse sould be maynteaned." we perceaving hir malitious craft, ansuered, "that as we wald compell hir grace to no religioun, so could we nocht of conscience, for the pleasur of any earthlie creature, put silence to godis trew messingeris; nather culd we suffer that the rycht administratioun of christis trew sacramentis should gif place to manifest idolatrie; for in so doing, we should declair ourselffis ennemeis to god, to christ jesus his sone, to his eternall veritie, and to the libertie and establishment of his churche within this realme; for your requeist being granted, there can no kirk within the same be so estableshit but at your pleasour, and by your residence and remaning thare ye myeht overthrow the samin." [sn: the last offeris of the protestantis to the quene regent.] this our last answer we send unto hir with the lord ruthven and laird of pittarrow; requiring of hir grace, in plane wordis, to signifie unto us what houpe we myeht have of hir favouris toward the outsetting of religioun. we also required that sche wald remove hir frenchemen, who war a fear to us, and a burthein most grevouse to our cuntrey: and that sche wald promess to us, in the word of a prince, that sche wald procure no mo to be send in; and than should we nocht onelie support, to the uttermost of our poweris, to furnish schippis and victuallis for thair transporting, bot also, upoun our honouris, should we tak hir body in our protectioun; and should promess, in the presence of god and the hole realme, to serve our soverane hir dochter, and hir grace regent, als faithfullie and als obedientlie as ever we did kingis within scotland: that, moreover, we should caus our preacheouris geve reasone of thair doctrin in hir audience, till any that pleased till impugne any thing that thay did or taught: finallie, that we should submit our selflis to a lauchtfull parliament, provided that the bischoppis, as the party accused, and our plane ennemeis, should be removed from judgement. [sn: the scoffing of the quene regent.] to no point wald sche answer directlie; bot in all thingis sche was so generall and so ambigua, that hir craft appeared to all men. sche had gottin assured knowlege that our cumpany was skailled, (for hir frenchemen war daylie amongis us, without molestatioun or hurt done unto thame,) and thairfoir sche began to discloise hir mynde, and said, "the congregatioun hes roung these two monethis bypast: me my selff wald ring now other two." the malice of hir hart being planelie perceaved, deliberatioun was had what was to be done. it was concluded, that the lordis, barronis, and gentilmen, with thare substantious housholdis, should remane in edinburgh that hole winter, for establissing of the church[ ] thair. [sn: the caus quhy the irnes stayed.] and becaus it was found, that by the corrupting of our money, the quene maid to hir selff immoderat gaines for maynteaning of hir soldiouris, to the distructioun of our haill commone weill, it was thocht necessar[ ] that the printing irnes, and all thingis to thame perteaning, should be stayed, for fear that sche should privelie caus transport thame to dumbar. [sn: the death of hary, king of france.] in this meantyme came the assured word, first, that the king of france was hurt, and after, that he was dead[ ] whiche, albeit it aucht to have put hir in mynd of hir awin estait and wicked interprise: for he that same tyme, in the fulnes of his glorie, (as sche hir self useth to speak,) had determined most crewell persecutioun aganis the sanctis of god in france, evin as sche hir selff was heir persecutand in scotland: and yit he so perished in his pryde, that all men mycht see that godis just vengeance did stryke him, evin quhen his iniquitie was cumed to full rypenes. albeit, (we say,) that this wonderouse wark of god in his suddane death, aucht to have dantoned hir furie, and gevin unto hir admonitioun, that the same god culd nocht suffer her obstinat malice against his treuth long to be unpunished; yit culd hir indurat hart nothing be moved to repentance: for hearing the staying of the printing irnes, sche raiged more outragiouslie than of befoir, and sending for all suche as wer of hir factioun, exponed hir grevous complaint, aggredging the same with many lyes, to wit, "that we had declaired that whiche befoir sche suspected; for what culd we meane ellis, bot usurpatioun of the crown, when we durst put handis to the cunze-hous, whiche was a portioun of the patrimony of the crown." sche farther alleged, "that we had spoyled the cunze-house of great sowmes of money." to the whiche we ansuered, boith by our letteris send to hir, and hir counsale, and by publict proclamatioun to the people, that we, without usurpatioun of any thing justlie perteaning to the crown of scotland, did stay the printing irnes, in consideratioun that the commone wealth was greatlie hurt by corrupting of our money; and becaus that we war borne counsalouris of this realme, sworne to procure the proffite of the same, we culd do no less of dewetie and of conscience than to stay that for a tyme, whiche we saw so abused, that oneles remedy war fundin, should turne to the detriment of the hole body of this realme. and as to hir fals accusatioun of spuilzie, we did remit us to the conscience of maister robert richesone[ ], maister of the cunze-hous, who from our handis receaved silver, gold, and mettall, alsweill cunzeit as uncunzeit; so that with us thair did nocht remane the valour of a bawbie.[ ] this our declaratioun and purgatioun nochtwithstanding, sche, partelie by hir craft and policie, and partelie by the lawbouris of the bischopis of sanctandrois and glasgw; procured the hole nomber that war with hir to consent to persew us with all creweltie and expeditioun, befoir that we culd haif our cumpany (whiche than was dispersed for new furnessing) assembled agane. the certantie heirof cuming to our knawlege, the setterday at nycht, the . [ d] of julij, we did in what us lay to gif advertisment to our bretherin; bot impossible it was that those of the west, anguss, mearnis, stratherin, or fyeff, in any nomber culd come to us; for the ennemie marched from dumbar upoun the sounday, and approched within two myles of us befoir the sone-rysing upoun monunday; for thay verrelie supposed to have found no resistance, being assured that the lordis onelie with certane gentillmen remaned, with thair privat housses. calling upoun god for counsale in that straytt, we soght what was the nixt defence. we mycht have left the town, and mycht have reteired our selffis without any danger; bot than we should have abandoned our bretherin of edinburgh, and suffered the ministrie thairof to have decayed, whiche to our hartis was so dolorous, that we thocht better to hasard the extreamitie than so to do. for than the most parte of the town appeared rather to favour us than the quenis factioun; and did offer unto us the uttermost of thair support, whiche for the most parte thay did faithfullie keap. [sn: leyth left the congregatioun.] the same did the town of leyth, bot thay keapit nocht the lyek fidelitie; for when we war upoun the feild, marching fordward for thair support, (for the frenche marched neye to thame,) thai randered thame selffis, without ferther resistance. and this thay did, as was supposed, by the treasone of some within thame selffis, and by the perswasioun of the lard of restalrig,[ ] who of befoir declaired himselff to have bein one of us, and nochtwithstanding,[ ] that day randered him selff undesyred to monsieur dosell. thair unprovided and suddane defectioun astonished many; and yit we retyred quyetlie to the syde of cragingatt,[ ] which place we tooke for resisting the ennemie. in the meantyme, diverse mediatouris passed betuix, amongis whome the lord ruthven, for our parte, wes principall. alexander erskin[ ] did muche travell to stay us and our soldiouris, that we should nocht joyne with thame of leyth, till that thay, as said is, had randered thame selffis to the frenche. the said alexander did oft promese, that the frenche wald stay, provided that we wold nocht joyne with these of leyth. bot efter that thai war randerit, we hard nothing of him bot threatning and disconfortable wordis. befoir it was eight houris in the morning, god had gevin unto us boith curage, and a reasonable nomber to withstand thair furie. the town of edinburght, sa mony as had subject thame selffis to discipline, and diverse utheris besydis thame, behavit thame selffis boith faithfullie and stoutlie. the gentilmen of lowthiane, especiall caldar, haltoun, and ormestoun, war verrey confortable, alsweill for thair counsale as for thair hole assistance. some gentilmen of fiffe prevented the frenche men; otheris war stopped, be reasone that the frenche had possessed[ ] leyth. alwais the ennemie tooke suche a fear, that thai determined nocht to invaid us whare we stoode, bot tooke purpose to have passed to edinburgh, by the other syde of the watter of leyth, and that becaus thay had the castell to thair freind, whiche was to us unknawin; for we supponed the lord erskin, capitane of the same, ather to have bein our freind, or at the least to have bein indifferent. [sn: the lord erskin and his fact.] bot when we had determined to feght, he send word to the erle of ergyle, to lord james, his sister sone,[ ] and to the uther noble men,[ ] that he wald declair him selff boith ennemie to thame and to the town, and wald schoote at boith, gif thay maid any resistance to the frenche men to enter in the town. this his treasonable defyence, send unto us by the lard of ricartoun,[ ] did abait the corage of many; for we culd nocht feght nor stop the ennemie, bot under the mercie of the castell and hole ordinance thairof. heirupoun was consultatioun tackin; and in conclusioun, it was found less domage to tak ane appointment, albeit the conditionis war nocht suche as we desyred, than to hasard battall betuix two suche ennemeis. after lang talkin, certane headis war drawin by us, whiche we desyred to be granted:-- "first, that no member of the congregatioun should be trubled in lief, landis, goodis, or possessionis by the quene, hir authoritie, nor any uther justice within the realme, for any thing done in the lait innovatioun, till a parliament (whiche should begin the tent of januar nixt) had decyded thingis in contraversie. " . that idolatrie should nocht be erected, whare it was at that day suppressed. " . that the preacheouris and ministeris should nocht be trubled in thair ministrie, whare thai war alreadie establessed, nather yit stopped to preache, wharesoever thai should chance to come. " . that no bandis of men of warr should be layed in garneshing within the town of edinburght. " . that the frenche men should be send away at a reasonable day, and that none uther should be broght in the cuntrey without consent of the haill nobilitie and parliament." but these our articles[ ] war altered, and ane uther forme disposeth, as efter followeth:[ ]-- "at the lynkis of leith, the . of julij , it is appointed in maner following:-- "in the first, the congregatioun and thair cumpany, utheris than the inhabitants of the said town, shall remove thame selffis furth of the said town, the morne at ten houris befoir none, the . of julij, and leaf the same void and red of thame and thair said cumpany, conforme to the quenis grace pleasour and desyre. "_item_, the said congregatioun shall caus the irnes of the cunze-hous,[ ] tacken away be thame, be randered and delivered to maister robert richardsone; and in lykewyis the quenis grace palace[ ] of halirudhous to be left and randered agane to maister johne balfour, or ony uther haveand hir grace sufficient power, in the same maner as it was receaved, and that betuix the making of thir articles and the morne at ten houris.--(for observing and keaping of thir tua articles abovewrittin, the lord ruthven and the lard of pittarrow hes entered thame selffis pledges.) "_item_, the saidis lordis of congregatioun, and all the memberis thairof, shall remane obedient subjectis to our soverane lord and ladyis authoritie, and to the quenis grace regent in thair place; and shall obey all lawis and lovable consuetudis of this realme, as thai war used of befoir the moving of this tumult and contraversie, exceptand the caus of religioun, whiche shalbe heirafter specifeid. [sn: in contemplatioun of these articles arose this proverb:--"gud day, sir johne, whill januar. "welcum, sir johne, quhill januar", &c.] "_item_, the said congregatioun, nor nane of thame, shall nocht truble nor molest a kirk-man be way of dead, nor yit shall maik thame any impediment in the peaciable bruiking, joising, and uptaking of thair rentis, proffittis, and deweties of thair benefices, bot that thai may frelie use and dispone upoun the same, according to the lawis and consuetude of this realme, to the tent day of januar nixt to cum. "_item_, the said congregatioun, nor nane of thame, shall in no wayis from thynefurth use ony force or violence, in casting down of kirkis, religious placis, or reparrelling thairof, bot the same sall stand skaithles of thame, unto the said tent day of januar. "_item_, the town of edinburght shall, without compulsioun, use and cheise what religioun and maner thairof thay please to the said day; sua that everie man may have fredome to use his awin conscience to the day foirsaid. "_item_, the quenis grace sall nocht interpone hir authoritie, to molest or truble the preacheouris of the congregatioun, nor thair ministrie, (to thame that pleasis to use the same,) nor na uther of the said congregatioun, in thair bodyis, landis, goodis, or possessionis, pensionis, or whatsumever uther kynd of goodis thai possess; nor yit thoill the clargie, or any uther haveand spirituall or temporall jurisdictioun, to truble thame, in ony maner of sort, privatlie or openelie, for the caus of religioun, or uther actioun depending thairupoun, to the said tent day of januar within writtin; and that everie man in particular leife in the meantyme according to his awin conscience. "_item_, that na man of warr, frenche nor scottis, be layed in daylie garnesoun within the town of edinburght, bot to repair thairto to do thair lefull besynes, and thairefter to reteir thame to thare garnesounis."[ ] this alteratioun in wordis and ordour was maid without knowledge and consent of those whose counsale we had used in all cases befoir. for sum of thame perceaving we began to faynt, and that we wald appoint with inequall conditionis, said, "god hath wonderfullie assisted us in our greatest dangeris: he hath strikin fear in the hartis of our ennemeis, when thai supposed thame selffis most assured of victorie: our case is nocht yit sa disperat that we nead to grant to thingis unreasonable and ungodlie; whiche, yf we do, it is to be feared that thingis sall nocht so prosperouslie succeid as thai have done heirtofoir." [sn: the promese of the duke and erle of huntlie.] when all thingis war commoned and aggreed upoun by myd personis, the duke and erle of huntlie, who that day war against us, desyred to speak the erlis of ergyle and glencarne, the lord james, and utheris of our partie: who obeying thare requeastis, mett thame at the querrell hollis,[ ] betuix leyth and edinburght, who in conclusioun promest to our lordis, "that yf the quene breake to us any one joyt of the appointment than maid, that thai should declair thame selffis plane ennemeis unto hir, and freindis to us." alsmuche promeshed the duke that he wold do, in case that sche wald nocht remove hir frenche men at are reasonable day; for the oppressioun whiche thai did was manifest to all men. this appointment maid and subscrived by the duke, monsieur dosell, and the erle of huntlie, the . of julij, we returned to the town of edinburght, whare we remanit till the nixt day at none; when, efter sermone, dennar, and a proclamatioun maid at the mercat croce in forme as followeth, we departed. forme of the proclamatioun. "forasmuche as it hath pleased god, that appointment is maid betuix the quene regent and us the lordis, hole[ ] protestantis of this realme, we have thocht good to signifie unto yow the cheafe headis of the same, whiche be these:-- " . first, that no member of the congregatioun shalbe trubled in lief, landis, goodis, or possessionis, by the quene, by hir authoritie, nor by any uther justice within this realme, for any thing done in this lait innovatioun, till that a parliament hath decyded thingis that be in contraversie. " . that idolatrie shall nocht be erected, whare it is now at this day suppressed. " . that the preachearis and ministeris shall nocht be trubled in the ministratioun, whare thai ar already established, nather yit stopped to preache whairsoevir thai shall happin to travaill within this realme. " . that no bandis of men of warr shalbe layed in garnesoun within the town of edinburght. "these cheafe headis of appointment concerning the libertie of religioun and conservatioun of our bretherin, we thoght goode to notifie unto yow, by this our proclamatioun, that in case wrong or injurie be done, by any of the contrarie factioun, to any member of our body, complaint may be maid to us, to whome we promese, as we will ansuer to god, our faitlifull support to the uttermost of our poweris." [sn: ansuer to the complaynt of the papistis.] at this proclamatioun, maid with sound of trumpett, war offended all the papistis: for, first, thai alledged it was done in contempt of the authoritie: secundarlie, that we had proclamed more than was conteaned in the appointment: and last, that we, in our proclamatioun, had maid no mentioun of any thing promished unto thame. to suche mummeris[ ] we answered, "that no just authoritie culd think the selff contempned, becaus that the treuth was by us maid manifest unto all, who utherwayis mycht have pretendit ignorance. secundlie, that we proclamed nathing, whiche [was] nocht finallie aggreit upoun in word and promeiss betuix us and thame with quhame the appointment was maid, whatsoevir thair scribeis had efter writtin, quha in verray deid had alterit, bayth in wordis and sentenceis, oure articles, as thay war first consavit; and yitt, gif thair awin writtingis war diligentlie examinit, the self same thing sall be found in substance. and last, to proclame any thing in thair favouris, we thocht it nocht necessarie, knawing that in that behalf thay thame selfis sould be diligent aneweh." and in this we war not desavit; for within fyftene dayis efter, thair was not ane schaveling in scotland, to wham teyndis, or any uthor rentis pertenit, bot he had that article of the appointment by hart, "that the kirk men sould be ansuerit of teyndis, rentis, and all uthir dewties, and that no man sould trubill nor molest thame." we depairting from edinburgh, the . of julij, came first to lynlythqw, and efter to striviling; whair, efter consultatioun, the band of defence, and mentenance of religioun, and for mutuall defence, evere ane of uther, was subscrivit of all that war thair present. the tennour of the band was this:-- "we foirseing the craft and slycht of our adversaries, tending all maner of wayis to circumvene us, and be prevy meanis intendis to assailzie everie ane of us particularie be fair hechtis and promisses, thairthrow to separat ane of us frome ane uthir, to oure utter rewyne and destructioun: for remedy heirof, we faythfullie and trewlie byndis us, in the presence of god, and as we tender the mentenance of trew religioun, that nane of us sall in tymeis cuming pas to the queneis grace dowriare, to talk or commun with hir for any letter [or] message send be hir unto us, or yitt to be send, without consent of the rest, and commone consultatioun thairupoun. and quhowsone that ather message or writt sall cum fra hir unto us, with utter diligence we sall notifie the same ane to ane uther; swa that nathing sall proceid heirin without commune consent of us all. "at striveling, the first day of august ." this band subscrivit, and we foirseing that the quene and bischopis menit nathing bot desait, thocht guid to seik ayde and support of all christiane princeis against hir and hir tyrrannie, in caise we sould be mair schairplie persewit. and becaus that ingland was of the same religioun, and lay nixt unto us, it was jugeit expedient first to prove thame; quhilk we did be ane or twa messingeris, as heirefter,[ ] in the awin place, mair ampill sall be declairit. efter we had abiddin certane dayis in striviling, the erle of argyle depairtit to glasgw; and becaus he was to depairt to his awin cuntrey, (with wham also past lord james,) to pacifie sum trubill quhilk, be the craft of the quene, was rasit in his absens, he requyreit the erle of glencairne, lord boyde, lord uchiltre, and utheris of kyle, to meit thair, for sum ordoure to be taikin, that the brethren sould not be oppressit; quhilk with ane consent thay did, and appoyntit the tent of september for the nixt conventioun at striveling. [sn: the first knawlege of the eschaiping of the erle of arrane out of france.] quhill thir thingis war in doing at glasgw, letteris and ane servand came fra the erle of arraine[ ] to the duik his father, signifeing unto him, that be the providence of god, he had eschaipit the frensche kyngis handis, quha maist treason abillie and maist crewellie had socht his lyfe, or at leist to have committit him to perpetuall presoun: [sn: let this be notit.] for the same tyme, the said frensche king, seing he could [not] have the erle him self, gart put his youngar brother,[ ] ane bairne of sick aige as could not offend, in strait presoun, quhair he yitt remaneis, to witt, in the moneth of october, the yeir of god j^m. v^c. lix yeiris: quhilk thingis war done be the craft and policie of the quene dowager, quhat tyme the duik and his freyndis war maist frack to sett fordwart hir caus. thir letteris resavit, and the estait of his twa soneis knawin, of whame the ane was escaipit, and the uthir in vyle preassoun cassin,[ ] the duke desyreit communing of the erle of argyle, quha, pairtlie against the will of sum that lovit him, raid unto the duik fra grlasgw to hammiltoun; quhair, abyding ane nycht, he declairit his jugement to the duik and to his freindis, especiallie to maister gawyne hamyltoun. the duik requyreit him and the lord james to write thair freindlie and confortabill letteris to his sone, quhilk thay baith maist willinglie did, and thairefter addressit thame to thair jornay. bot the verray day of thair depairting, came one bowtencourt,[ ] from the quene regent, with letteris, as was allegeit, from the kyng and quene of france to lord james, whilk he delyverit with ane braggin countenance and many threatning wordis. the tennour of his letteris was this:-- "_le roy._ "my cousing, i have bein greittumlie mervellitt, having understand the trubillis that ar happinnit in thir pairtis; and yit mair mervell that ye, of wham i had ane haill confidence, and alsua hes this honour to be sua neir the quenis grace, my wiffe, and hes resavit of umquhile the kyngis grace my father, hir grace, and me, sick graceis and favouris, that ye sould be sa forgetfull as to mak youre self the heid, and ane of the principall begynnaris and nureischaris of the tumultis and seditiounis thar ar sene thair. the quhilk, becaus it is sa strange as it is, and syne against the professioun that ye at all tymeis have maid, i can not gudlie beleif it; and gif it be sa, i can not think bot ye have bene entyseit and led thairto be sum personis that haif seduceit and caussit yow commit sic ane falt, as i am assureit ye repent of alreddy, quhilk will be ane greit emplesour[ ] to me, to the effect i mycht lose ane pairt of the occasioun i have to be miscontent with yow, as i will yow to understand i am, seing sua far ye have dissavit the esperance i had of yow, and your effectioun towart god, and the weill of our service, unto the quhilk ye knaw ye ar als mekill and mair obleist nor ony uther of the lordis thair. for this cause, desyrand that the materis mycht be dutelie[ ] amendit, and knawand quhat ye may heirintill, i thocht gude on this maner to write unto yow, and pray yow to tak heid to returne to the guid way, from quhilk ye ar declyneit, and caus me knaw the samin be the effectis that ye have ane uther attentioun nor this quhilk thir folies bipast makis me now to beleif; doing all that ever ye can to reduce all thyngis to thair first estait, and put the samin to the rycht and gud obedience that ye knaw to be dew unto god and unto me: [sn: braggis now.[ ]] utherwayis, ye may be weill assureit, that i will put to my hand, and that in gud eirnest, that ye and all thay have done, and dois as ye, sall[ ] feill, (throw thair awin falt,) that quhilk thay have deservit and meritit; evin as i have gevin charge to this gentilman, present beirar, to mak yow knaw mair largelie of my pairt; for quhilk caus, i pray yow creddeit him, evin as ye wald do my selff. prayand god, my cousing, to haif yow in his holy and worthy protectioun. "writtin at pareis, the xvij day of july ." the samyn messinger brocht alssua letteris frome the quene our soverane, mair scharp and threatning than the former; for hir conclusioun was, "_vous senteras la poincture a jamais_."[ ] this creddeit was, "that the kyng wald spend the croun of france, or that he war not revengeit upoun sick seditious personis. that he wald never have suspectit sick inobedience and sick defectioun frome his awin sister in him." to the quhilk the said lord james ansuerit, first by word, and than by writting, as followis:-- "schir, "my dewtie rememberit. your majestieis letter i resavit frome pareis, the xvij of julij last, proporting in effect, that your majestie sould mervell that i, being forgetfull of the graceis and favouris schawing me be the king, of blissitt memorie, your majestieis father, and the quenis grace, my soverane, sould declair my selff heid, and ane of the principall begynnaris of the allegeit tumultis and seditioun in thir pairtis, desaving thairby your majestieis expectatioun at all tymis hard of me; with assurance, that gif i did not declair by contrarie effectis my repentance, i, with the rest that had put, or yitt putis handis to that wark, sould resave the rewaird quhilk we had deservit and meritit. "schir, it grevis me heavelie that the cryme of ingratitude sould be laid to my charge be your hienes, and the rather that i persave the same to haif proceidit of sinister informatioun, of thame quhais pairt it was not sua to have reportit, gif trew service bigane had bene regairdit. and as tuiching the repentance, and declaratioun of the same be contrar effectis,[ ] that your majestic desyris i schaw, my conscience perswaidis me in thir proceidingis to have done na thing aganeis god, nor the debtfull[ ] obedience towartis your hienes and the queneis grace my soverane, utherwayis it sould have bene to repent, and als amendit allreddy, according to your majestieis expectatioun of me. bot your hienes being treulie informeit, and perswaidit that the thyng quhilk we have done makis for the advancement of godis glorie, (as it dois in deid,) without ony maner derogatioun to your majesteis dew obedience, we dowt not bot your majestie sall be weill contentit with our proceidingis, quhilk being groundit upoun the commandiment of the eternall god, we dar [nocht] leif the samyn unaccompleischeit; onelie wisching and desyreing your majestie did knaw the same, and treuth thairof, as it is perswaidit to our conscience, and all thame that ar treulie instructit in the eternall word of our god, upoun quham we cast our cair for all daingearis that may follow the accompleisment of his eternall will; and to quham we commend your hienes, beseiking him to illuminat your hart with the evangell of his eternall trewth, to knaw your majestieis dewtie towartis[ ] your pure subjectis, godis chosin pepill, and quhat ye aucht to craif justlie of thame agane; for than we sould haif na occatioun to feir your majestieis wraith and indignatioun, nor your hienes suspitioun in our inobedience. the samyn god mot[ ] have youre majestie in his eternall saifgard. "at dumbartane, the of august ." this answer, directit to the quene our soverane, and to francis hir husband, the quene dowager resavit, and was bold upoun it, as sche mycht weill yneuch; for it was suppoisit that the former letteris war forgeit heir at hame in scotland. the answer red by hir, sche said, "that sua proud ane answer was never gevin to king, prince, or princess." and yitt indifferent men thocht that he mycht have answerit mair schairplie, and not have transgressit modestie nor treuth. for quhair thay burding him with the greit benefitis quhilk of thame he had resavit, gif in plane wordis he had purgeit him self, effirming, that the greitest benefit that ever he receavit of thame was to spend in thair service, that quhilk god be utheris had providit for him, na honest man wald have accusit him, and na man wald have bene abill to have convickit him of ane lye. bot princeis must be pardonit to speik quhat thay pleise. [sn: the residence of johnne willock in edinburgh.] for confort of the brethren, and contynewance of the kyrk in edinburgh, was left thair our deir brother johnne willock, quha, for his faithfull laubouris and bald curage in that battell, deserves immortall prayse. for quhan it was fund dangerous that johnne knox, quha befoir was electit minister[ ] to that kyrk, sould contynew thair, the brethren requeistit the said johnne willock to abyde with thame, least that, for laik of ministeris, idolatrie sould be erectit up agane. to the quhilk he sua glaidlie consentit, that it mycht evidentlie appeir, that he preferrit the confort of his brethren, and the contynewance of the kirk thair, to his awin lyiff. one pairt of the frensche men war appointtit to ly in garnesoun at leith, (that was the first benefit thai gat for thair confideracie with thame,) the uthir pairt war appointit to ly in the cannogait; the quene and hir tryne abydeing in the abbay. oure brother johnne willock, the day efter our departure, prechit in sanct geillis kirk, and ferventlie exhortit the brethren to stand constant in the trewth quhilk thay had professit. at this and sum uther sermondis was the duke, and diverse utheris of the queneis factioun. this libertie and preching, with resort of all pepill thairto, did hielie offend the quene and the uther papistis. and first thay began to gif terrouris to the duke; affirmyng, that he wald he repute as ane of the congregatioun, gif he gaif his presence to the sermondis. thairefter thay begould[ ] to requyre that messe sould be sett up agane in sanct geillis kirk, and that the pepill sould be sett at libertie to chuse what religioun thay wald; for that, say thay, was contenit in the appointmentt, that the town of edinburgh sould cheis quhat religioun thay list. for obtening heirof, was send to the tolbuith,[ ] the duke, the erle of huntlie, and the lord seytoun, to solist all men to condiscend to the quenis mynd; quhairin the twa last did laubour that thay could, the duik not sa, bot as ane behalder, of quham the brethren had guid esperance. and efter many perswationis and threatningis maid be the saidis erle and lord, the brethren, stoutlie and valiantlie in the lord jesus, ganesaid thair maist injust petitionis, reasonyng, "that as of conscience thay mycht nocht suffr idolatrie to be credit quhair christ jesus was treulie precheit, sua could nocht the quene nor thay requyre any sick thyng, unless sche and thay wald plainlie violat thair faith and cheif article of the appointment; for it is planelie appointit, that na member of the congregatioun sall be molestit in any thing that, the day of the appointment, be peaceabillie possessit. bot sua it was that we, the brethren and protestantis of the toun of edinburgh, with oure ministeris, the day of the appointment, did peaceabillie possess sanct geilis kirk,[ ] appointit for us for preching of christis trew evangell, and rycht ministratioun of his holy sacramentis. thairfoir, without manifest violatioun of the appointment, ye can not remove us thairfra, quhill ane parliament have decydit the contraversie." [sn: the quene regentis malice against pure men.] this answer gevin, the haill brethren depairtit, and left the foirsaid erle, and lord seytoun the provest of edinburgh, still in the tolbuyth; quha persaving that thay could not prevaill in that maner, bot began to entreat that thay wald be quyett, and that thay wald sa far condiscend to the quenis plesour, as that thay wald chuse thame ane uthir kirk[ ] within the toun, or at the least be contentit that messe sould be said ather efter or befoir thair sermonis. to the quhilk, ansuer was gevin, "that to gif place to the devill, (quha was the cheif inventar of the messe,) for the plesour of ony creature, thay could not. thay war in possessioun of that kirk, quhilk thay could not abandone; nether could thay suffer idolatrie be erectit in the samyn, unless be violence thay sould be constrancit sa to do; and than thay war determinit to seik the nixt remedy." quhilk ansuer resavit, the erle of huntlie did lovinglie intreat thame to quyetnes; faithfullie promissing that in na sort thay sould be molestit, sa that thay wald be quyett, and mak na farther uproir. to the quhilk thay war maist willing; for thay socht onlie to serve god as he had commandit, and to keip thair possessioun, according to the appointment; quhilk be goddis grace thay did till the moneth of november, nochtwithstanding the greit bosting of the ennemy. for thay did not onlie convene to the preching, dailie supplicatiounis, and administratioun of baptisme, bot alssua the lordis tabill was ministratt, evin in the eyis of the verray ennemy, to the greit confort of mony afflictit conscience. and as god did potentlie wirk with his trew minister, and with his trubillit kirk, so did nocht the devill cease to enflamb the malice of the quene, and of the papistis with hir. for schort efter hir cuming to the abbay of halyrudhouse, sche caussit messe to be said, first in hir awin chapell, and efter in the abbay, quhair the altaris befoir war cassin doun. sche dischargit the commoun prayeris, and foirbad to gif ony portioun to sick as war the principall young men quha redd thame. hir malice extendit in lik maner to cambuskynneth;[ ] for thair sche dischargeit the portionis of als many of the channonis as had forsaikin papistrie. sche gaif command and inhibitioun, that the abbot of lundoris[ ] sould be[ ] ansuerit of any pairt of his leving in the north, becaus he had submitit him self to the congregatioun, and had put sum reformatioun to his place. be hir consent and retrahibitioun[ ] was the preching stuleis brokin in the kirk of leith, and idolatrie was erectit in the samyn, quhair it was befoir suppressit. hir frensche capitaneis, with thair suldiouris in greit companeis, in tyme of preching and prayeris, resortit to sanct geillis kirk in edinburgh, and maid thair commune deambulatour thairin, with sick lowd talking, as na perfyte audience could be had; and althocht the minister was ofttymes thairthrow compellit to cry out on thame, praying to god to red thame of sick locustis; thay nevirtheless continewit still in thair wickit purpoise, devisit and ordaneit be the quene, to have drawin our brethren of edinburgh and thame in cummer; swa that sche mycht have had ony cullorat occatioun to have brokin the liegue with thame. yitt, be goddis grace, thay behaveit thame selfis swa, that sche could fynd na falt with thame; albeit in all thir thingis befoir nameit, and in every ane of thame, sche is worthelie comptit to have contravenit the sayd appointment. we pass over the oppressing done of oure brethren in particular, quhilk had bene sufficient to have provin the appointment to have bene playne violatit; for the lord seytoun, without ony occasioun offerrit unto him, brak a chaise upoun alexander quhitelaw,[ ] as he came frome prestoun, accumpaneit with williame knox,[ ] towartis edinburgh, and ceassit not to persew him till he came to the toun of ormestoun: and this he did, supposing that the said alexander quhitelaw had bene johnne knox. in all this menetyme, and quhill that ma frensche men arryvit, thay ar not abill to pruif that we brak the appointment in any jote, except that ane hoirnit capp was taikin of ane proud preistis heid, and cut in four quarteris,[ ] becaus he said he wald weir[ ] it in dispyte of the congregatioun. [sn: the quene regentis false flattering letter to the duke.[ ]] in this menetyme, the quene, then regent, knawin assuredlie quhat force was schortlie to cum unto hir, ceassit not, by all meneis possibill, to cloik the incuming of the frensche, and to enflamb the hartis of oure cuntrey men aganis us. and for that purpoise, sche first wrait to my lord duike, in forme as followis:-- "my lord and cousing, "efter hartlie commendatioun; we ar informit that the lordis of the westland congregatioun intendis to mak ane conventioun and assembillie of thair kyn and freyndis upoun govane mure, besyde glasgw, on monnunday cum viij dayis, the [ st] day[ ] of august instant, for sum hie purpoise aganeis us, quhilk we can nott skantlie beleve,[ ] considdering thay have na occasioun upoun our pairt sa to do. and albeit ye knaw the appointment was maid be our avise,[ ] yitt we acceptit the samin at your desyre, and hes sensyne maid na cause quhairby thay mycht be movit to cum in the contrair thairof. lyke as we ar yitt myndit to keip firme and stabill all thingis promesit be yow in our behalf. we think, on the uther pairt, it is your dewatie to requyre tham, that thay contravene not thair pairt thairof in na wyise;[ ] and in caice thay meane ony evill towartis us, and sua will breck thaire promeise, we beleif ye will, at the uttermost of your power, convene with us, and compell tham to do that thing quhilk thay aucht, gif thay will nocht. praying yow to have your selff, your kin and freyndis, in reddynes to cum to us, as ye sall be adverteist be proclamatioun, in caise the congregatioun assembill tham selffis for any purpoise aganeis us, or the tennour of the said appointment: assureand yow, without thay gadder, and mak first occasioun, we sall nott put yow to any paneis in that behalf; and that ye adverteis us in writt, quhat we may lippin to heirin with this beirar, quha will schaw yow the fervent mynd we beir to have concord with the said congregatioun, quhat offeris we haif maid to thame, and how desyrous we ar to draw thame to the obedience of our soveranis authoritie, to quham ye sall gif creddeit; and god keip yow. "at edinburgh, the tent day of august ." [sn: the regentis letter to the barronis.] the lyke letter sche wrait to everie lord, barroun, and gentilman, of this tennour:-- "trest freynd, "efter hartlie commendatioun; we dowt nott bot ye have hard of the appointment maid besyde leith, betuix my lord duik, the erle of huntlie, and monsieur dosell, on the ane pairt, and the lordis of the congregatioun, on the uther syde; quhilk appointment we have approvit in all poyntis, albeit it was taikin by our avise; and is myndit to observe and keip all the contentis thairof for our pairt. nochtheless, we ar informeit, the saidis lordis of the congregatioun intendis schortlie to convene all sick personeis as will assist to thame, for interprysing of sum heycht purpoise aganis us, our authoratie, and tennour of the said appointment, quhilk we can not beleif, seing thay nather haif, nor sall have, ony occasioun gevin thairto on our pairt, and yit thinkis not reassonabill, in caise thay meane ony sick thing: and thairfoir have thocht it guid to gif wairning to oure speciall freyndis of the adverteisment we have gottin, and amangis the rest, to yow, quham we esteme of that nomber. praying yow to have your self, youre kin, and folkis in reddynes to cum to us."--and sua furth, as in the uthir letter above sent to the duike, word efter word. [sn: the practise of quene regent.] efter that by thir letteris, and by the dissaitfull furnissing of hyr solistaris, sche had sumquhat steirit up the hairtis of the pepill against us, than sche began oppinlie to complayne, "that we war of mynd to invaid hir persone; that we wald keip na pairt of the appointment; and thairfoir sche was compellit to crave the assistance of all men against our injust persute." and this practise sche usit, as befoir is said, to abuse the simplicitie of the pepill, that thay sould not suddanlie espy for quhat purpois sche brocht in hir new bandis of men of weir, quha did arryve about the middis of august to the nomber of ane thousand men. the rest war appointit to cum efter, with monsieur de la broche,[ ] and with the bischop of amiance,[ ] quha arryvit the nynetene day of september following, as gif thay had bene ambassadouris: [sn: the arryvell of the frensche.[ ]] bot quhat was thair negotiatioun, the effect did declair, and thay thame selffis could not long conceill; for baith be tung and pen thay utterit, "that thay war send for the utter exterminatioun of all thame that wald not professe the papisticall religioun in all pointis." the quenis practise nor craft could not blynd the eyeis of all men; nether yitt could hir subtiltie hyde hir awin schame, bot that many did espy hir desait: and sum spairit not to speik thair jugement liberallie; quha foirseing the dainger gaif adverteisment, requyring that provisioun mycht be fund, befoir that the evill sould exceid our wisdome and strenth to put remedy to the same; for prudent men foirsaw, that sche prctendit ane plane conqueist. bot to the end, that the pepill sould not suddanlie stur, sche wald nocht bring in hir full force at aneis, (as befoir is said,) bot by continewall traffique purposit to augment hir army, so that in the end we sould not be abill to resist. bot the greitest pairt of the nobilitie, and many of the pepill, war so enchantit by hir treassonabill solistaris, that thay could not heir, nor creddeit the treuth planelie spokin. the frensche than, efter the arryvell of thair new men, began to brag: [sn: the devisioun of the lordis landis by the frensche.] than began thay to devyde the landis and lordschippis according to thair awin fantaseis; for ane was styleit monsieur de ergyle; ane uther, monsieur le priour; the thrid, monsieur de ruthven; yea, thay war assureit, in thair awin opinioun, to possesse quhatsoever thay list, that sum askit the rentallis and revenewis of dyverse mennis landis, to the end that [thay] mycht chuse the best. and yitt in this menetyme, sche eschame nott to sett out ane proclamatioun, in this forme:-- [sn: ane proclamatioun sett out be the quene regent, to blind the vulgar pepill.[ ]] "forsamekle as we understand that certane seditious personis hes inventit and blawin abrod dyvers rumouris and evill brutis, tending thairby to steir up the hartis of the pepill, and swa to stope all reconciliatiounis betuix us and our subjectis, being of the nomber of the congregatioun, and consequentlie to kyndill and nureise continewall stryfe and devisioun in this realme, to the manifest subvertioun of the haill estaitis thairof; and amangis uther purpoisses, hes maliciouslie devisit for that effect, and hes perswaidit too many, that we haif violatit the appointment laitlie tane, in sa far as ony ma frensche men sensyne ar cumit in: and that we ar myndit to draw in greit forceis of men of weir furth of france, to suppres the libertie of this realme, oppres the inhabitantis thairof, and mak up straingaris with thair landis and goodis: quhilk reportis ar all (god knawis) maist vayne, fenzeit, and untrew. for it is of treuth, that nathing hes bene done on oure pairt sen the said appointment, quhairby it may be allegeit, that ony point thairof hes bene contravenit: nor yitt was at that tyme any thing communit or concludit to stope the sending in of frensche men; as may cleirlie appeir be inspectioun of the said appointment, quhilk the beirar heirof hes presentlie to schaw. [sn: lett the bischop of amiance and monsieur de la broche letteris writtin to france, witness that.[ ]] quhat[evir] nomber of men of weir be arryveit, we [have] sick regaird to our honour, and quyetnes of this realme, that in caise in the rowme of everie ane frensche man that is in scotland thair war ane hundreth at our command, yitt sould not for that any joyt that is promesit be brokin, or any alteratioun be maid be oure provocatioun; bot the said appointment[ ] treulie and surelie observit in everie point, gif the said congregatioun will in lyk maner faithfullie keip thair pairt thairof. nor yitt meane we to truble any man in the peaceabill possessioun of thair guidis and rowmes, nor yitt to enreache[ ] the crowne, and far less any strangear, with your substance; for our derrest sone and dochter, the king and quene, ar by godis provisioun placeit in the rowme, quhair all men of jugement may weill considder thay have na neid of any manis guidis. and for our self, we seik na thing bot debtfull obedience unto thame, sick as guid subjectis aucht to gif to thair soveraneis, without deminutioun of your liberteis and priveleigeis, or alteratioun of your lawis.[ ] thairfoir, we thocht guid to notifie unto yow our guid mynd foirsaid, and desyreis yow not to gif eir nor creddeitt to sic vayne imaginationis, quhairof, befoir god, no pairte ever enterit in our consait; nor suffer your selfis be thairby led frome youre dew obedience; assureing yow, ye sall ever fynd with us trewth in promeisses, and ane moderlie luif towartis all; yow behaifand your selffis our[ ] obedient subjectis. [sn: few dayis efter declairit the treuth of this] bot of one thing we gif yow wairning, that quhairas sum prechearis of the congregatioun, in thair publict sermonis, speikis irreverentlie and sklanderouslie, alsweill of princeis in generall, as of our self in particulare, and of the obedience to the hiear poweris; induceing the pepill, be that pairt of thair doctrine, to defectioun frome thair dewatie, quhilk pertenis na thing to religioun, bot rather to seditioun and tumult, thingis direct contrar to religioun: thairfoir we desyre yow to tak ordour in youre toun and boundis, that quhan the prechearis repairis thair, thay use thame selfis mair modestlie in thay behalfis, and in thair precheing not to mell sa mekle with civill policie and publict governance, nor yit name us, or uther princeis, bot with honour and reverence, utherwayis it will nocht be sufferrit. [sn: jesabell wald be honourit, bot helias wald nott.] attour,[ ] sen ye haif presentlie the declaratioun of our intentioun, we desire to knaw lykwayis quhat sall be your pairt to us, that we may understand quhat to lippin for at your handis; quhairof we desire ane playne declaratioun in writt, with this beirar, without excuise or delay. "at edinburgh, the twentie aucht of august ." this proclamatioun sche send be hir messingeris throwch all the cuntrey, and had hir solistaris in all pairtis, quha paynefullie travellit to bring men to hir opinioun; amangis quham thir war the principallis, sir johnne bellenden, justice clerk; maister james balfour, officiall of lowthiane, maister thomas and maister williame scottis, sonnis to the laird of balwerie,[ ] sir robert carnegy, and maister gawane hammiltoun; quha for faynting of the bretheris hairtis, and drawing many to the queneis factioun against thair natyve cuntrey, have declairit thame selfis ennemeis to god, and traytouris to thair commune wealth. bot abuiff all utheris maister james balfour, officiall for the tyme, aucht to be abhoirrit; for he, of ane auld professoure, is becum ane new denyare of christ jesus, and manifest blasphemar of his eternall veritie, aganis his knawlege and conscience; seiking to betray his brethren and natyve cuntrey in the handis of ane crewell and unfaithfull natioun. the answer to this former proclamatioun was maid in forme as followis:-- "to the nobilitie, burghis, and communitie of this realme of scotland, the lordis, baronis, and utheris, bretherin of the christiane congregatioun, wischis encrease of wisdome, with the advancement of the glorie of god, and of the communwealth, &c. &c. "the love of oure natyve cuntrey craifis, the defence of oure honouris requyreis, and the synceritie of oure conscienceis compellis us, (derrest brethren,) to answer sum pairt to the last writtingis and proclamatiounis sett furth be the queneis grace regent, no less to mak us and oure caus odiouse, than to abuse your simplicitie to youre finall destructioun, conspyreit of auld, and now alreaddy put to wark. and first, quhair sche allegeis certane seditious personeis have of malice inventit and blawin abrod diverse rumouris, [tending] thairby (as sche allegeis) to steir up the hartis of the pepill to seditioun, be reassone that the frensche men ar croppin in of lait in our cuntrey; trew it is, (deir brethren,) that all sick as beir naturall lufe to thair cuntrey, to yow, thair brethren, inhabitantis thairof, to our housses, wyffis, bairneis, the esperance of your posteratie, and schortlie to your commun-wealth, and the ancient lawis and libertieis thairof, can not bot in hart lament, with mowth and teiris complayne, the maist craftie assaultis devisit and practisit, to the utter rewyne of all thir thyngis foirnameit; and that sua manifestlie is gane to wark, that evin in our eyeis oure derrest brethren, trew memberis of oure commun-welth, ar maist crewellie oppressit by strangearis; in sa far that sum ar baneissit thair awin housses, sum robbit and spuilzeit of thair substance, conqueist by thair just laubouris in the sweit of thair browis; sum crewellie murtherit at the pleasour of thir inhumane souldiouris; and altogidder have thair lyvis in sick feir and dreddour, as gif the ennemy war in the myddis of thame; so that nathing can seme plesand unto thame, quhilk thay possess in the bowellis of thair natyve cuntrey; sa neir jugeis everie man, (and not but just caus,) the practise usit upoun thair brethren to approche nixt unto thame thair selffis, wyffeis, bairneis, housses, and substanceis, quhilk altogidder ar cassin at the feit of straingearis, men of weir, to be by thame thus abusit att thair unbrydillit lustis desyre. now, if it be seditioun, (deir brethren,) to complane, lament, and pour furth befoir god the sorrowis [and] sobbis of oure dolorouse hartis, crying to him for redress of thir enormyteis, (quhilk ellis quhair is not to be found;) and thir altogidder dois [proceid] of the unlauchfull halding of strange suldiouris over the heidis of oure brethren; gif this to complayne be sedition, then indeid, (deir brethren,) can nane of us be purgeit of that cryme; for as in verray hart we dampne sick inhumayne creweltie, with the wickit and craftie pretence thairof, sua can we, nor dar we nott, neather be mouthis speiking, nor yitt by keiping of silence, justifie the same. neather do we heir aggrege the breking of the appointmentt maid at leith, (quhilk alwayis hes manifestlie bene done;) bot quhan we remember quhat aith we have maid to our commun-welth, and how the dewatie we aucht to the same compellis us to cry outt, that hir grace, be wickit and ungodlie counsall, gais maist craftelie about utterlie to oppress the same, and ancient lawis and libertieis thairof, alsweill aganeis the king of francis promeise, hir awin dewatie, in respect of the heich promotionis that sche resavit thairby, quhilk justlie sould have caussit hir to have bene indeid that quhilk sche wald be callit, (and is nathing less in veritie,) to wit, ane cairfull mother ovir this commun-wealth; bot quhat motherlie cair sche hes usit towardis yow, ye can not be ignorant. [sn: lett the nobilitie juge heirof.] haif ye nocht bene, evin frome the first entres of hir regne, ever smytit and oppressit with unaccustomit and exhorbitant taxatiounis, [more] than ever war usit within this realme? yea, and how far was it socht heir to have bene brocht in upoun yow and your posteritie, under cullour to have bene laid up in stoir for the weiris? the inquisitioun tane of all your guidis, movable and immovabill, be way of testament; the seiking of the haill coill and saltt of this realme, to have bene laid up in stoir and gernall, and sche allane to have bene merchant thairof, dois teache yow be experience sum of her motherlie cair. "agane, quhat cair ower your commun-wealth dois hir grace instantlie beir, quhan evin now presentlie, and of ane lang tyme bygane, be the ministerie of sum, (quha better deserve the gallowis, than ever did cochrane,[ ]) sche dois sua corrupt the layit[ ] money, and lies brocht it in sick basenes, and sic quantatie of scruiff, that all men that hes thair eyis oppin may persaif ane extreme beggarie to be brocht thairthrow upoun the haill realme, swa that the haill exchange and traffique to be had with forane natiounis, (ane thing maist necessarie in all commun-wealthis,) sall thairby be utterlie extinguissitt; and all the ganeis resavit thairby is, that sche thairwith intertenis strangearis upoun oure heidis. for, brethren, ye knaw that hir money hes servit for na uther purpoise in our commun-wealth this lang tyme bigane; and the impunitie of thir wickit ministeris, (quhame laitlie we spak of,) hes brocht the mater to sick ane licentious enormitie, and plane contempt of the commun-wealth, that now thay spair not planelie to brek doun and convert the guid and stark money, cunzeit in our soveraneis less age, into this thair corruptit skruiff and baggage of hard-heidis and non suntis,[ ] maist lyik that sche and thay had conspyreit to destroy all the haill gud cunzey of this realme, and consequentlie that pairt of the commun-wealth. [sn: lett sir robert richartsoun, and utheris,[ ] answer to this.] besydeis all this, thair clyppit and rowngeit soussis,[ ] quhilk had no passage thir three yeiris past in the realme of france, ar commandit to have course in this realme, to gratifie thairby hir new cumit suldiouris. and all thir thingis togidder, ar done without the avise or consent of the nobilitie and counsall of this realme, and manifestlie thairthrow, against our ancient lawis and liberteis. "thridlie, hir last and maist wechty proceiding, mair fullie declairis hir motherlie cair hir grace beiris to our commun-wealth and us, quhan in tyme of peace, but any occatioun of forane weiris, thowsandis of strangearis ar layd heir and thair upoun the neckis of our pure memberis of this commun-wealth; thair idill bellyis fed upoun the pure substance of the communitie, conqueist by thair just laubouris in the panefull sueit of thair browis. quhilk to be trew, dumbar, north-berwick, tranent, prestounpanis, mussilburgh, leith, cannogait, kingorne, kirkcaldy, dysert, with the depauperat saullis that this day dwell thairin, can testifie; quhais oppressioun, as doutless it is enterit in befoir the justice sait of god, sa aucht it justlie to move oure hartis to have reuth and compassioun upoun thir oure pure brethren, and at oure poweris to provide remedy for the same. and albeit hir strangearis had bene garneissit with money, (as ye knaw weill thay war nott,) yitt can thair heir lying be na wayis bot maist hurtfull to our commun-wealth, seing that the fertilitie of this realme hes never bene sa plenteouse, that it was abill of any continewance to sustene the self, and inhabitantis thairof, without support of forane cuntreis; far less abill, besydeis the same, to susteane thowsandis of strangeris quhairwith it is burdenit, to the derthing of all viweris,[ ] as the murmour and complaint of edinburgh this day dois testifie. bot to quhat effect the commun-wealth is this way burdenit, the end dois declair; for schortlie war thair brocht to the feyldis against our soveraneis trew liegeis, even us youre brethren, quha, (god knawis,) socht not ellis bot peace of conscience, under protectioun of oure soverane, and reformatioune of thir enormiteis, for na uther caus bot that we wald nott renunce the evangell of jesus chryst, and subdew oure neckis under the tyranie of that man of syn, the romane antichrist, and his foirsworne schavillingis, quha at all tymeis moist tyrannicalie oppressit oure saullis with hunger of goddis trew word, and reft oure guidis and substanceis, to waist the same upoun thair foull lustis and stynking harlottis. "bot, (o deir brethren,) this was nocht the cheif pretence and finall scope of hir proceidingis, (as thir dayis do weill declair;) for had not god gevin in oure hartis to withstand that oppressioun with weaponis of maist just defence, thow, o sanct johnestoun and dundie, had bene in na better estait nor youre sister of leyth is this day. for thocht we in verray deid (god is witnes) menit then na thing bot, in the simplicitie of oure hartis, the mentenance of trew religioun, and saiftie of oure brethren professouris of the same, yit lay thair ane uther serpent lurking in the breist of our adversareis, as this day, (prayse to god,) is planelie oppinnit to all that list behald, to witt, to bring yow and us baith under the perpetuall servitude of strangearis; for we being appointit, as ye knaw, tuiching religioun to be reassonit in the counsall at the day affixt, and na occatioun maid to brek the same on our syde, (as is weill knawin,) yitt come thair furth writtingis and complayntis, that this day and that day we war prepairit to invaid hir graceis persone, (quhan in verray treuth thair was never sic thing thocht, as the verray deid hes declairit;) bot becaus sche was befoir deliberatt to bryng in frensche men to bayth oure destructionis, that ye sould nott stur thairwith, sche maid yow to understand, that thay bandis came onlie for the saiftie of hir awin persone. o craft, brethren! o subtiltie! bot behald the end. [sn: the caus of the frenche menis cuming with wyffis and bairneis.] thay ar cum, (yitt not sa mony, na, not the saxt pairt that sche desyreit and lukit for,) and how?[ ] not onlie with weaponis to defend hir graceis persone, bot with wyffis and bairneis, to plant in youre natyve rowmeis,[ ] as thay have alreddy begun in the toun of leith, the principall port and stapill of all this realme, the gernall and furnitour of the counsall and sait of justice: and heir will thay duell, quhill thay may rainforce thame with greitar nomber of thair fallow suldiouris, to subdew than the rest, gif god withstand not. and yitt hir grace feirit nor eschamit not to write, 'gif thay war ane hundreth frensche men for everie ane of thame that is in scotland, yitt thay sould harme na man.' tell thow now, leith! gif that be trew: gif this be not ane crafty entrie to ane manifest conqueist, foirthocht of auld, juge yow, deir brethren! thus to forte our tounis, and evin the principall port of our realme, and to lay sa strang garnisouns[ ] of straingearis thairin, without any consent of the nobilitie and counsall of this realme, bot expres aganeis thair mynd, (as our writtingis send to hir grace beiris record,) gif this be not to oppres the ancient lawis and libertieis of oure realme, lett all wise men say to it.[ ] and farther, to tak the barne-yairdis new gatherrit, the gernallis replenischeit, the houssis garnissit, and to sitt doun thairin, and be force to putt the just possessouris and ancient inhabitantis thairfra, with thair wyffis, bairneis, and servandis, to schyft [for] thame selfis in begging, gif thair be na uthir meaneis, thay being trew scottis men, memberis of our commun-wealth, and our deir brethren and sisteris, borne, fosterit, and brocht up in the bowellis of oure commune and natyve cuntrey: gif this be not the manifest declaratioun of thair auld pretence and mynd to the haill scottis natioun, lett your awin conscience, (brethren,) be juge heirin. was all leith of the congregatioun? na, i think nott; yitt war all alyk servit. "let this motherlie cair than be tryit be the fruttis thairof: first, be the greit and exhorbitant taxatiounis usit upoun yow, and yitt ten tymeis greittar preissit at, as ye knaw. secundlie, the utter depravatioun of our counzie, to conqueiss tharby money to interteyne strangearis, frensche suldiouris, upoun yow, to mak thame strong haldis, leist ye sould sumtyme expell thame out of your natyve rowmeis.[ ] thridlie, be the daylie rainforceing of the said frensche souldiouris, in strenth and nomber, with wyffis and bairneis, planting in your brethrenis houssis and possessiouns. indeid, hir grace is, and lies bene at all tymes cairfull to procure be hir craft of fair wordis, fair promeissis, and sumtyme buddis, to allure your simplicitie to that poynt, to joyne your self to hir suldiouris, to dantoun and oppres us, that ye the remanent, (we being cut of,) may be ane easie pray to hir slychtis, quhilk god, of infinite gudnes, lies now discoveritt to the eyeis of all that list to behald. bot credeit the warkis, (deir brethren,) gif ye will not creddeit us; and lay the exampill of forane natiouns, yea, of your awin brethren, befoir your eyis and procure not your awin rewyne willinglie. yff ye tender trew religioun, ye see how hir grace beiris hir[self] plane ennemy thairto, and mentenis the tyrannie of thair idill bellies, the bischopis, aganeis godis kirk. giff religioun be nott perswaidit unto yow, yit cast ye not away the cair ye aucht to have ower your commun-welth, quhilk ye see manifestlie and violentlie rewyneit befoir your eyis. gif this will nott move yow, remember your deir wyffis, children, and posteratie, your ancient heretageis and houssis; and think weill thir strangearis will regaird na mair your rycht thairunto, than thay have done your brethrenis of leyth, quhan ever occatioun sall serve. bot gif ye purpoise, as we dout not bot that all thay that ather haif wit or manheid will declair and prove indeid, to bruik your ancient rowmeis and heretageis, conquerit maist valiantlie, and defendit be your maist nobill progenitouris against all strangearis, invaidaris or the same, as the frenscheis pretendis planelie this day; gif ye will not he slavis unto thame, and to have your liffis, your wiffis, your bairnes, your substance, and quhatsoever is deir unto yow, cassin at thair feitt, to be usit and abusit at the plesour of strange suldiouris, as ye see your brethrenis at this day befoir your eyeis; gif ye will not have experience sum day heirof in your awin personeis, (as we suppone the least of yow wald not glaidlie have, bot rather wald chuse with honour to die in defence of his awin natyve rowme, than leif and serve sa schamefull ane servitud;) than, brethren, let us joyne our forceis, and baith with witt and manheid resist thir begynningis, or ellis our libertieis heirefter sall be deirar bocht. [sn: ane proverb.] lett us surelie[ ] be perswaidit, 'quhan our nychtbouris house be on fyre, that we duell nott without daingear.'[ ] lett na man withdraw himself heirfra: and gif any will be sa unhappy and myschevous, (as we suppone nane to be,) let us altogidder reput, hald, and use him, (as he is indeid,) for ane ennemy to us, and to him self, and to his commun-weill. the eternall and omnipotent god, the trew and onlie revengear of the oppressit, be oure confort and oure protectour against the fury and raige of the tyrantis of this warld; and especiallie frome the insaciabill covetousnes of the guisianeis[ ] generatioun. amen." besydis this, our publict letter, sum men answerit certane heidis of hir proclamatioun on this maner:-- "gyff it be seditious to speik the treuth in all sobrietie, and to complayne quhan thay ar woundit, or to call for help against unjust tyrannie befoir that thair throttis be cutt, than can we not deny, bot we ar criminall and giltie of tumult and seditioun. for we have said that our commun-wealth is oppressit, that we and our brethren ar hurt be the tyrrannie of strangearis, and that we feir bondage and slaverie, seing that multitudeis of cruell murtheraris ar daylie brocht in our cuntrey, without our counsall, or knawlege and consent. we dispuit not sa mekill quhidder the bringing in of ma frensche men be violating of the appointment, (quhilk the quene nor hir factioun can not deny to be manifestlie brokin be thame, in ma caisses than ane,) as that we wald knaw, gif the heipping of strangearis upoun strangearis above us, without our counsall or consent, be ane thing that may stand with the libertie of our realme, and with the proffitt of our commun wealth. it is not unknawin to all men of jugement, that the fruitis of our cuntrey, in the maist commun yeiris, be na mair than sufficient reassonabill to nureis the borne inhabitantis of the same. bot now, seing that we have bene vexit with weiris, taikin upoun us at the plesour of france, by the quhilk the maist fruttfull portioun of our cuntrey in corneis hes bene waistit; quhatt man is sa blynd bot that he may see, that sic bandis of ungodlie and idill suldiouris can be na thing ellis bot ane occatioun to fameis our pure brethren? and in this poynt we refuise nott, (quhilk is the cheif,) the jugement of all naturall scottis men." the quene regent allegeit, "that althocht thair war ane hundreith frensche men for ane in scotland, yitt sche is not myndit to trubill any in his just possessioun." quhairto we answer, "that we disput not quhat sche intendis, (quhilk nochttheless, be probabill conjectouris, is to be suspectit;) bot alwayis we affirme, that sick ane multitude of frensche men is ane burding, not onlie unproffitabill, bot alssua intollerabill to this pure realme, especiallie being intreatit as thay ar be hir and monsieur dosell; for gif thair waigeis be payit out of france, than ar thay baith (the quene, we say, and monsieur dosell,) traytouris to the kyng and counsall; for the pure communis of this realme have sustenit thame with the sweit of thair browis, sence the contracting of the peace, and sumquhat befoir. "quhat motherlie effectioun sche hes declairit to this realme, and to the inhabitantis of the same, hir warkis have evidentlie declairit, evin sence the first houre that sche hes borne authoritie; and albeit men will not this day see quhat daingear hyngis over thair heidis, yitt feir we, that or it be long, experience sall teich sum that we feir not without cause. the crewell murthar and oppressioun usit be thame quham now sche fosteris, is till us ane sufficient argument, quhatt is to be luikit for, quhan hir nomber is sa multipleit, that oure force sall not be abill to gainestand thair tyranie. [sn: the doctrine of our precharis concerning obedience to be gevin to magistrattis.[ ]] "quhair sche complenis of our prechearis, affirmyng that irreverentlie thay speik of princeis in generall, and of hir in particular, induceing the pepill thairby to defectioun frome thair dewatie, &c., and thairfor that sick thing can nott be sufferit: becaus this occatioun is had aganis[ ] godis trew ministeris, we can not bot witnes quhat tred and ordour of doctrine thay have keipitt and yitt keip in that poynt. in publict prayeris thay commend to god all princeis in generall, and the magistrattis of this our natyve realme in particular. in oppin audience thay declair the auctoratie of princeis and magistratis to be of god; and thairfoir thay affirme, that thay aucht to be honourit, feirit, obeyit, evin for conscience saik; providit that thay command nor requyre nathing expreslie repugning to godis commandiment and plane will, reveillit in his holy worde. mairover, thay affirme, that gif wickit personeis, abusing the auctoratie estableischet be god, command thingis manifestlie wickit, that sick as may and do brydill thair inordinatt appetyteis of princeis, can not be accusit as resistaris of the aucthoratie, quhilk is godis gud ordinance. to brydill the fury and raige of princeis in free kingdomes and realmeis, thay affirme it appertenis to the nobilitie, sworne and borne counsallouris of the same, and allsua to the barronis and pepill, quhais voteis and consent ar to be requyreit in all greit and wechty materis of the commun-welth. quhilk gif thay do not, thay declair thame selffis criminall with thair princeis, and sa subject to the same vengeance of god, quhilk thay deserve, for that thay pollute the sait of justice, and do, as it war, mak god author of iniquytie. thay proclame and thay cry, that the same god quha plaigit pharoo, repulsit senacherib, struik herod with wormes, and maid the bellies of dogis the grave and sepulchrie of despytefull jesabell, will nott spair the crewell princeis, murtheraris of chrystis memberis in this our tyme. on this maner thay speik of princeis in generall, and of youre grace in particular. [sn: lett sick as this day leif witnes quhat god hes wrocht since the wrytting and publicatioun heirof.[ ]] this onlie we have hard ane of oure prechearis say, rebuiking the vane excuise of sick as flatter thame selffis, be reassone of the auctoratie; 'many now a dayis, (said he,) will have na uther religioun nor faith than the quene and the authoratie hes.'[ ] bot is it [not] posseble, that the quene be sa far blyndit that sche will haif na religioun, nor na uther fayth, than may content to the cardinall of lorane? and may it nott lykwyise be abill, that the cardinall be sua corrupt, that he will admitt na religioun quhilk dois nott establische the paip in his kingdome: bot plane it is, that the paip is lievetenent to sathan, and ennemy to chryst jesus, and to his perfyte religioun. lett men thairfoir considder quhat daingear thay stand in, gif thair salvatioun sall depend upoun the queneis faith and religioun. farder we have never hard any of oure prechearis speik of the quene regent, nether publictlie nor privatlie. quhair hir grace declairis, 'it will nocht be sufferit that oure prechearis mell with policie, nor speik of hir nor of uther princeis bot with reverence,' we answer, 'that as we will justifie and defend nathing in oure prechearis, quhilk we fynd not god to have justifeit and allowit in his messingeris befoir thame; sua dar we not forbid thame oppinlie to reprehend that quhilk the spreit of god, speiking in the propheitis and [sn: the prophettis haif middillit with policey, and his reprovit the corruptioun thairof.] apostillis, hes reprehendit befoir thame. helias did personallie reprove achab and jesabell of idolatrie, of avarice, of murther; and sicklik esaias the propheit callitt the magistrattis of jerusalem in his tymeis companzeounis to thevis, princeis of sodome, brybe-takeris, and murtheraris: he complenit that thair silver was turnit in to dross, that thair wyne was myngleit with watter, and that justice was bocht and sauld. jeremias said, 'that the baneis of king jehoiakim sould widder with the sone.' christ jesus callit herod a fox; and paul callit the hie preist ane payntit wall, and prayit unto god that he sould strike him, because that against justice he commandit him to be smyttin. now gif the lyk or greittar corruptiounis be in the warld this day, quha dar interprise to put silence to the spreit of god, quhilk [will] not be subject[ ] to the appetyteis of wickit princeis?" [sn: the cuming of the erle of arrane to scotland, and his joyning with the congregatioun.[ ]] we have befoir said, that the tent day of september was appointit for ane conventioun to be haldin at striveling, to the quhilk repairit the maist pairt of the lordis of the congregatioun. at that same tyme arryvitt the erle of arrane, quha, efter that he had salutit his father, came with the erie of ergyle and lord james to striviling to the said conventioun. in quhilk diverse godlie men complenit upoun the tyrranie usit against thair brethren, and especiallie that ma frensche men wer brocht in to oppress thair cuntrey. efter the consultatioun of certane dayis, the principall lordis, with my lord of arrane and erie of ergyle, past to hammyltoun, for consultatioun to be taikin with my lord duikis grace. and in this menetyme came assureit word that the frensche men war begun to fortifie leith; quhilk thing, as it did mair evidentlie discover[ ] the queneis craft, sua did deiplie greiff the hartis of the haill nobilitie thair, quha, with ane consentt, aggreit to write unto the quene, in forme as followis:-- [sn: letteris to the quene regent.] "at hammyltoun, the xix[ ] day of september . "pleise your grace, "we ar credibillie informeit, that your army of frensche men sould instantlie begin to plant in leith, to fortifie the same, of mynd to expell the ancient inhabitants thairof, our brethren of the congregatioun; quhairof we marvell not a littill, that your grace sould sua manifestlie brek the appointment maid at leith, but ony provocatioun maid be us and our brethren. and seing the samyn is done without ony maner consent of the nobilitie and counsale of this realme, we esteme the same nocht onlie oppressioun of our pure brethren, indwellaris of the said town, bot allsua verray prejudiciall to the commun-wealth, and playne contrair to oure ancient lawis and libertieis: heirfoir desyreis your grace to caus the samyn warke interprysit, be stayit; and nott to attempt sua raschlie and manifestlie against your graceis promeis, against the commun-wealth, the ancient lawis and libertieis thairof, (quhilk thingis, besyde the glorie of god, ar maist deir and tender unto us, and onlie our pretence;) utherwayis, assuring your grace, we will complayne to the haill nobilitie and communitie of this realme, and maist eirnistlie seik for redress thairof. and thus, recommending oure humyll service unto youre hienes, your graceis answer maist eirnistlie we desire, quham we committ to the eternall protectioun of god. "at hammyltoun, day and yeir forsaid. be youre graceis humyll and obedient servitouris." (this letter was subscrivit with the handis of my lord duik, the erie of arrane, argyle, glencairne, and menteith; be the lordis ruthwen, uchiltre, boyd, and by utheris diverse, barronis and gentilmen.)--to this requeist sche wald nott answer be writt, bot with ane letter of creddeit sche send sir robert carnegy[ ] and maister david boirthick,[ ] tua, quham amangis many utheris, sche abusit, and by quham sche corruptit the hartis of the sempill. they travellit with the duik, to bring him agane to the queneis factioun. la broche and the bischop of amiance were schort befoir arryvit; and, as it was brutit, war directit as ambassadouris; bot thay keipitt cloise thair haill commissioun: thay onlie maid large promeisses to thame that wald be thairis, and leif the congregatioun. the quene did grevouslie complayne, that we haid intelligence with ingland. [sn: the petitioun of labroche.] the conclusioun of thair commissioun was to solist my lord duike to put all in the queneis will, and than wald sche be gratious aneuch. [sn: the answer.] it was answerit, "that na honest men durst committ thame selfis to the mercie of sick thrott-cuttaris[ ] as sche had about hir; quham, gif sche wald remove, and joyne to hir ane counsall of naturall scottismen, permitting the religioun to have fre passage, than sould nane in scotland be mair willing to serve hir grace than sould the lordis and brethren of the congregatioun be." [sn: letter to the lord erskin.] at the same tyme, the duik his grace and the lordis wrait to my lord erskin, capitane of castell of edinburgh, in forme as followis: "my lord and cousing, "efter oure hartlie commendatioun, this present is to adverteise yow, that we ar credibillie informeit, the army of frensche men instantlie in this realme, but ony avise of the counsale of nobilitie, ar fortifieand, of ellis schortlie intendis to fortifie the town of leith, and expell the ancient inhabitantis thairof; quhairby thay proclame to all that will oppin thair eiris to heir, or ene to se, quhat is thair pretence. and seing the faithfulnes of youre antecessouris, and especiallie of your father, of honorabill memorie, was sa recommendit and experimentit to the estaitis and counsallouris of this realme, throwch affectioun thay persawit in him towartis the commun-wealth thairof, that thay doubtit not to gif in his keiping the key, as it war, of the counsall, the justice, and policey of this realme, the castellis of edinburgh and striveling;[ ] we can not bot beleif ye will rather augment the honorabill favoure of your housse, be steidfast favour and lawtie to your commun-wealth, than throuch the subtell persuatioun of sum, (quhilk cair not quhat efter sail cum of yow and your house,) at the present wald abuse yow, to the performance of thair wickit interprysis and pretensis against oure commun-wealth, utterlie to destroy the same. and heirfoir, seing that we haif writtin to the queneis grace, to desist fra that interpryse, utherwise that we will complane to the nobilitie and communitie of the realme, and seik redress thairof. we lykwise beseik yow, as our tender freynd, brother, and member of the same commun-wealth with us, that ye on na wayis mell or assent to that ungodlie interpryise aganeis the commun-wealth; and lykwyise, that ye wald saif your body, and the jewell of this countrey commitit to yow and your predicessouris lawtie and fidelitie toward youre natyve countrey and commun-wealth, gif ye think to be repute heirefter ane of the samyn, and wald rather be brother to us, nor to strangers; for we do gather by the effectis, the secreitis of menis hartis, utherwayis inserceabill unto us. this we write, nott that we ar in dout of yow, bot rather to wairne yow of the daingear, in caise ye thoill your self to be enchantit with fair promeissis and craftie counsalouris. for lett na man flatter him selff: we desyre all man [to] knaw, that thocht he war our father, (sen god hes oppinnit oure eyes to se his will,) be he ennemy to the commun-wealth, quhilk now is assailzeit, and we with it, and all trew memberis thairof, he sall be knawin (and as he is in deid) ennemy to us, to oure lyvis, housses, babis, heretageis, and quhat sumevir is contenit within the same. for as the schip perischeing, quhat can be saif that is within?[ ] sua the commun-wealth being betrayit, quhat particular member can leif in quyetnes? and thairfoir in sa far as the saidis castellis ar commitit to your credeitt, we desyre yow to schaw youre faithfulnes and stoutnes, as ye tender us, and quhatsumevir appertenis to us. and seing we ar assureit ye will be assailzeit bayth with craft and force, as now be wairnyng we help yow against the first, sua against the last ye sall not myss in all possibill haist to have oure assistance. onlie schaw your selff the man. saiff your persone by wisdome, strenth your selff against force, and the almychtie god assist yow in baith the ane and the uther, and oppin youre eyis[ ] understanding, to see and persaif the craft of sathan and his suppoistis. "at hammyltoun, the xix day[ ] of september . be your brethren, &c." [sn: the tyrranny of the frensche.] the duike and lordis understanding that the fortificatioun of leith proceidit, appointit thair haill forceis to convene at striviling the xv day of october, that frome thence thai mycht marche fordwart to edinburgh, for the redress of the greit enormyteis quhilk the frensche did to the haill cuntrey, quhilk be thame was sua oppressitt that the lyfe of all honest man[ ] was bitter unto him. in this meintyme, the lordis directit thair letteris to diverse pairtis of the cuntrey, makand mentioun quhat dangear did hing ower all men, giff the frensche sould be sufferit to plant in this cuntrey at thair plesoure. thay maid mentioun farder, how humblie thay had socht the queue regent, that sche wald send away to france hir frensche men, quha war ane burding unproffitable and grevous to thair commun-wealth; and how that sche nochtwithstanding did daylie augment hir nomber, brynging wyffis and bairneis; a declaratioun of ane plane conqueist, &c. the quene, than regent, perseving that hir crafte began to be espiit, be all meaneis possebill travellit to blynd the pepill. and first, sche send furth hir pestilent postis foirnameit in all pairtis of the cuntrey, to perswaid all man that sche offerit all thingis reassonabill to the congregatioun; and that thay refusing all reassoun, pretendit na religioun, bot ane plane revolt frome the authoratie. sche temptit every man in particular, alse weill thay that war of the congregatioun, as thame that war neutrallis. sche assaultit everie man, as sche thocht maist easelie he mycht have bene ovircum. to the lord ruthven sche send the justice clerk and his wiff, quhn, is dochter to the wife[ ] of the said lord. quhat was thair commissioun and creddeit, is na farther knawin than the said lord hes confessit, quhilk is, that large promeisses of proffitt was offerrit, gif he wald leiff the congregatioun and be the queneis. to lord james, priour of sanctandrois, was send maister johnne spense of condy, with ane letter and creddeit, as followis:-- "the memoriall of maister johnne spense of condy,[ ] the thretty day of september. " . ye sall say, that hir[ ] greit favour towartis yow movis hir to this. " . that sche now knawis, that the occatioun of your depairting frome hir was the favoure of the word and of religioun; with the quhilk albeit sche was offendit, yitt knawing your hart and the hartis of the uther lordis firmelie fixit thairupoun, sche will beir with yow in that behalf, and at youre awin sychtis sche will sett fordwart that caus at hir power, as may stand with goddis word, the commun policey of this realme, and the princeis honour. (note, gud reiddar, quhat vennoum lurkis heir; for plane it is, that the policey quhilk sche pretendit, and the princeis honour, will never suffer christ jesus to ring in this realme.) " . to say, that the occasioun of the assembling of thir men of weir, and fortifeing of leith, is, that it was gevin hir to understand be sum about hir, that it is not the advancement of the word and religioun quhilk is socht at this tyme, bot rather ane pretense to owerthraw, or alter the authoratie of your sister, of the quhilk sche belevis still that ye ar nott participant; and considdering the tendernes betuix yow and your sister, sche trestis mair in yow in that behalf than in any leving. [sn: lett this be notit, o craftie flatterie![ ] (bot befoir the erle of arrane arryvit, and that the duke depairtit frome hir factioun, sche ceassit not contynewallie to cry, that the priour socht to mak him self king; and sua not onlie to depryve his sister to mak him selff king, bot alssua to defraude the lordis duikeis grace and his housse: bot foirseing ane storme, sche began to seik ane new wynd.) "sche farther willit, to offer the way-sending of the men of weir, gif the former suspitioun could be removit. sche lamentit the trubill that appeirit to follow gif the mater sould lang stand in debait. sche promeist hir faithfull laubouris for reconciliatioun, and requyreit the samyn of him; requiring farther, faith, favour, and kyndnes, towartis his sister; and to adverteise for his pairt quhat he desyreit, with promeise that he mycht obtene quhat he plesit to desyre, &c." to this letter and creddeit, the said lord james answerit as followis:-- "pleise youre grace, "i resavit your hienes writting, and have hard the creddeit of the beirar; and fynding the busynes of sick importance, that daingerouse it war to gif haistie answer, and alssua your petitionis ar sua, that with my honour i can nott answer thame privatlie be my selff: i have thocht guid to delay the same till that i may have the jugement of the haill counsall. for this poynt i will not conceill frome youre grace, that amangis us thair is ane solempnit aith, that nane of us sall trafique with youre grace secreitlie; nether yitt that any of us sall mak ane [ad]dress for him selff particularlie; quhilk aith, for my pairt, i purpoise to keip inviolatit to the end. bot quhan the rest of the nobillmen sall convene, i sall leif nathing that lyis in my power undone that may mak for the quyetnes of this pure realme, providing that the glorie of christ jesus be nott hinderit by oure concord. and gif youre grace sall be found sua tractabill as now ye offer, i doutt nott to obteyne of the rest of my brethren sick favouris towartis youre service, as youre grace sall have just occatioun to stand content. for god i tak to record, that in this actioun i have nether socht, nether yitt seikis, any uther thing than godis glorie to encrease, and the libertie of this pure[ ] realm to be mentenit. farther, i have schawin to youre messinger quhat thingis have myslykeit me in youre proceidingis, evin frome sick ane hart as i wald wysche to god ye and all men did knaw. and this with hartlie commendatioun of service to youre grace, i hartlie commit your hienes to the eternall protectioun of the omnipotent. "at sanctandrois, the first of october. (_sic subscribitur_,) "your graceis humyll and obedient servitour, j. st."[ ] this answer resaivet, sche raigeit as hypocrasie usis, quhan it is prickit; and persaving that sche could nott wirk quhat sche wald at the handis of men particularie, sche sett furth ane proclamatioun, universallie to be proclameit, in the tennour as followis:-- "forsamekle as it is understand to the queneis grace, that the duke of chastellerault hes laitlie directit his missyveis in all pairtis of this realme, makand mentioun that the frensche men lait arryvit, with thair wyffis and bairneis, ar [begunne][ ] to plant in leith, to the rewyne of the commun-welth, quhilk he and his pairttakeris will not pas ower with patient behalding, desyring to knaw quhat will be everie manis pairt; and that the fortificatioun of leith is[ ] ane purpoise devysit in france, and that thairfoir monsieur de la broche and the bischop of amiance ar cumit in this cuntrey; ane thing sa vaine and untrew, that the contrarie thairof is notour to all men of free jugement: thairfoir hir grace, willing that the occatiouns quhairby hir grace was movit sa to do be maid patent, and quhat hes bene hir proceidingis sen the appointment last maid on the linkis besyde leith, to the effect that the treuth of all thingis being maid manifest, everie man may understand how injustlie that will to suppres the libertie of this realme is laid to hir charge, hes thocht expedient to mak this discours following:-- "fyrst, althocht efter the said appointment, dyverse of the said congregatioun, and that not of the meaneast sort, had contravenit violentlie the pointis thairof, and maid sundrie occatiouns of new cummer, the samyn was in ane pairt wynkit att and ower-luikit, in hoip that thay with tyme wald remember thair dewatie, and abstene fra sick evill behaviouris, quhilk conversioun hir grace ever sochtt, rather than any puneisment, with sick cair and solicitud be all meaneis, quhill, in the menetyme, na thing was providit for hir awin securitie. bot at last, be thair frequent messageis to and fra ingland, thair intelligence than was persavit: yit hir grace trestis the quene of ingland (lett thame seik as thay pleise) will do the office of ane christiane princes in tyme of ane sworne peax; throw quhilk force was to hir grace (seand sua greit defectioun of greit personageis,) to have recourse to the law of nature; and lyk as ane small bird, being persewit, will provide sum nest, sua hir grace could do na less, in caise of persute, nor provide sum sure retrait for hir selff and hir cumpany; and to that effect, chusit the toun of leith, as place convenient thairfoir; becaus, first, it was hir derrest dochteris propertie, and na uther persone could acclame tytle or enteress thairto, and als becaus in tyme afoir it had bene fortifeit. about the same tyme that the seiking support of ingland was maid manifest, arryvit the erle of arrane, and adjoinit him selff to the congregatioun, upoun farder promisses nor the[ ] pretendit quarrell of religioun that was to be sett up be thame in authoratie, and sua to pervert the haill obedience. [sn: false leying toung, god has confoundit thee!] and as sum of the said congregatioun at the samyn tyme had putt to thair handis, and takin the castell of brochty, put furth the keiparis thairof: immediatlie came fra the said duike to hir grace unluikit for, ane writing, beside many uther,[ ] compleneand of the fortificatioun of the said toun of leith, in hurt of the ancient inhabitantis thairof, brether of the said congregatioun, quhairof he than professit him self ane member; and albeit that the beirar of the said writting was ane unmeitt messinger in ane mater of sick consequence, yitt hir grace direc[ted] to him twa personeis of guid creddeit and reputatioun with answer, offerrand, gif he wald caus ane mendis be maid for that quhilk was commitit aganeis the lawis of the realme, to do further nor could be cravit of reassone, and to that effect to draw sum conference, quhilk for inlaik of him and his collegis, tuik no end. [sn: god hes purgeit his pepill of that false accusatioun.] nochttheles thay continewallie sensyne contynewis in thair doingis, usurping the authoratie, commanding and chargeing free borrowis to cheise provestis and officiaris of thair nameing, and to assyst to thame in the purpoise thay wald be att; and thatt thay will nocht suffer provisioun to be brocht for sustentatioun of hir graceis housseis; and greit pairt hes sa planelie sett asyde all reverence and humanitie, quhairby everie man may knaw that it is na mater of religioun, bot ane plane usurpatioun of authoratie, and na dout bot sempill men, of gude zeall in tymeis bigane, thairwith falslie hes bene desavit. bot as to the queneis grace pairt, god, quha knawis the secreitis of all hartis, weill kennis, and the warld sall see be experience, that the fortificatioun of leith was devisit for na uther purpoise bot for recourse to hir hienes and hir cumpany, in caise thay war persewit. quhairfoir, all gud subjectis that hes the feir of god in thair hartis, will not suffer thame selffis be sick vaine perswatiouns to be led away from thair dew obedience, bot will assist in defence of thair soveraneis quarrel aganeis all sick as will persew the same wrangouslie. thairfoir, hir grace ordaneis the officiaris of armeis to pas to the mercat-croceis of all heid borrowis of this realme, and thair be oppin proclamatioun command and charge all and sundrie the liegeis thairof, that nane of thame tak upoun hand to put thame selfis in armeis, nor tak pairt with the said duke or his assistaris, under the pane of treassone." thir letteris being devulgatt, the hartis of many war steirit; for thay jugeit the narratioun of the queue regent to have bene trew: uthiris understanding the samin to be utterlie false. bot becaus the lordis desyreit all man [to] juge in thair cause, thay sett out this declaratioun subsequent:-- [sn: the declaratioun of the lordis against the former proclamatioun.] "we ar compellit unwillinglie to answer the grevouse accusatiouns maist injustlie laid to our chargeis be the quene regent and hir perverst counsall, quha cease not, by all craft and malice, to mak us odiouse to our darrest brethren, naturall scotismen; as that we pretendit na uther thing bot the subversioun and owerthraw of all just authoritie, quhan, god knawis, that we thocht na thing bot that sick authoratie as god approvis by his word, be establischeit, honourit, and obeyit amangis us. trew it is that we have complenit, (and continewallie must complene,) till god send redress, that our commun cuntrey is oppressit with strangearis; that this inbringing of suldiouris, with thair wiffis and children, and planting of men of weir in oure free tounis, appeiris to us ane reddy way to conqueist: and we maist eirnistlie requyre all indifferent personeis to juge betwix us and [the] quene regent in this cause,[ ] to wit, quhidder that our complaynt be just or nott; for, for quhat uther purpoise sould sche this multiplie strangearis upoun us, bot onlie in respect of conqueist; quhilk is ane thing not of lait devisit be hir and hir avaritiouse house. [sn: the avarice of thame of lorane and gweise.] we ar not ignorant, that sax yeris past, the questioun was demandit, of ane man of honest reputatioun, quhat nomber of men was abill to dantoun scotland, and to bring it to the full obedience of france. she allegeis, that to say the fortificatioun of leith was ane purpoise devisit in france, and that for that purpoise war monsieur de la broche, and the bischop amiance send to this cuntrey, is ane thing sa vaine and untrew, that the contrarie thairof is notour to all men of fre jugement. bot evident it is, quhatsoever sche allegeis, that sence thair arryvall, leith was begun to be fortifeit. sche allegeis, that sche, seing the defectioun of greit personageis, was compellitt to have recourse to the law of nature, and lyk ane small bird persewit,[ ] to provide for sum sure retreitt to hir selff and hir cumpany. bot quhy dois sche not answer, for quhatt purpoise did sche bring in hir new bandis of men of weir? was thair any defectioun espyit befoir thair arryvall? was not the congregatioun under appointment with hir? quhilk, quhatsoever sche allegeis, sche is not abill to prove that we haid contravenit in any chief poynt, befoir that her new throt-cuttaris arryvit, yea, befoir that thay began to fortifie leith; ane place, says sche, maist convenient for hir purpoise, as in verray deid it is for the resaving of strangearis at hir plesour: for gif sche haid fearit the persute of hir body, sche haid the insche, dumbar, blaknes, fortis and strenthis alreddy maid. yea, bot they could not sa weill serve hir turne as leith, becaus it was hir dochteris propertie, and na uther could haif tytill to it, and becaus it had bene fortifeit of befoir. that all men may knaw the just tytle hir dochter and sche hes to the toun of leith, we sall in few wordis declair the trewth. "it is not unknawin to the maist pairt of this realme, that thair hes bene ane auld haitrent and contentioun betuix edinburght and leith;[ ] edinburgh seiking continewallie to possess that libertie, quhilk be donatioun of kyngis thay have lang injoyit; and leith, be the contrary, aspyring to ane libertie and fredome in prejudice of edinburgh. [sn: the title that the quene [had] or hes[ ] to leith.] the quene regent, ane woman that could mak hir proffitt of all handis, was nott ignorant how to compass hir awin mater; and thairfoir secreitlie sche gaif adverteisment to sum of leith, that sche wald mak thair toun fre, gif that sche mycht do it with any cullour of justice. [sn: the laird of restalrig superiour to leith.] be quhilk promeise, the principall men of them did travell with the laird of restalrig,[ ] ane man nether prudent nor fortunat, to quhome the superioratie of leyth appertenit, that he sould sell his haill tytle and rycht to our soverane, for certane sowmeis of money, quhilk the inhabitantis of leith payit, with ane large taxatioun mair, to the quene regent, in hoip to have bene maid free in dispite and defraud of edinburgh. quhilk rycht and superioratie, quhan sche haid gottin, and quhan the money was payit, the first fruittis of thair libertie thay now eitt with bitternes, to wit, that strangearis sall possess thair town. this is hir just tytle quhilk hir dochter and sche may clame to that towne. and quhair sche allegeis that it was fortifeit befoir, we ask, gif that [was] done without consent of the nobilatie and estaitis of the realme, as sche now, and hir craftie counsallouris do in dispyte and contempt of us the lauchfull heidis[ ] and borne counsallouris of this realme. "how far we have socht support of ingland, or of ony uther princes, and how just cause we haid, and haif sa to do, we sall schortlie mak manifest unto the warld, to the prayse of godis haly name, and to the confusioun of all thame that sclander us for sa doing. for this we feir nott to confess, that as in this oure interpryse against the devill, idolatrie, and the mentenance of the same, we cheiflie and onlie seik godis glorie to be notifeit unto man, synne to be puncisit, and vertew to be mentenit; sua quhair power faillis of oure self, we will seik quhair soever god sall offer the same; and yitt in sa doing, we ar assureit, nether till offend god, nether yitt to do any thing repugnant to our dewiteis. we hartlie prayse god, quha movit the hart of the erle of arrane to joyne him selff with us, his persecuteit brethren; bot how maliciouse ane ley it is, that we have promesit to sett him up in authoratie, the ischew sall declair. god we tak to record, that na sick thing hes to this day enterit in oure hartis. nether yitt hes he, the said erie, nather any to him appertenyng, movit unto us ony sick mater; quhilk, gif thay sould do, yitt ar we not sa sklender in jugement, that inconsidderatlie we wald promeis that quhilk efter we mycht repent. we speik and write to goddis glorie:[ ] the leist of us knawis better quhat obedience is dew to ane lauchfull authoritie, than sche or hir counsall dois practise the office of sick as worthelie may sitt upoun the sait of justice; for we offer, and we performe, all obedience quhilk god hes commandit; for we nether deny toll, tribute, honour, nor feir till hir, nor till hir officiaris: we onlie brydill hir blynd raige, in the quhilk sche wald erect and mentene idolatrie, and wald murther oure brethren quha refusses the same. bott sche dois utterlie abuse the authoratie establischeitt by god: sche prophaneis the throne of his majestie in erth, making the saitt of justice, quhilk aucht to be the sanctuary and refuge of all godlie and vertuouse personeis, injustlie afflictit, to be ane den and receaptakle to thevis, murtheraris, idolateris, huremongaris, adulteraris, and blasphemaris of god and all godlynes. [sn: the wickitness of the bischopis.[ ]] it is mair than evident, quhat men thay ar, and lang have bene, quham sche by hir power mentenis and defendis; and alssua quhat hes bene our conversatioun sence it hes plesit god to call us to his knawlege, quham now in hir fury sche crewellie persecuteis. we deny nocht the taking of the house of brouchty;[ ] and the cause being considderit, we think that na naturall scottisman will be offendit at oure fact. quhan the assureit knawlege came unto us that the fortificatioun of leith was begun, everie man began to inquyre quhat daingear mycht ensew to the rest of the realme, giff the frensche sould plant in dyverse placeis, and quhat war the placeis that mycht maist [annoy] us.[ ] [sn: the caus that browchty craig was takin.[ ]] in conclusioun it was found, that the taking of the said housse be frensche men sould be destructioun to dundie, and hurtfull to sanct johnnstoun, and to the haill cuntrey; and thairfoir it was thocht expedient to prevent the daingear, as that we did for preservatioun of oure brethren and commun cuntrey. it is nocht unknawin quhat ennemyis thir twa tounis have, and quhow glaidlie wald sum haif all guid ordour and pollecey owerthrawin in thame. the conjectureis that the frensche war of mynd schortlie to have takin the same, war not obscure. bot quhatsoever thay pretendit, we can nott repent that we (as said is) have preventit the daingear; and wald god that our power haid bene in the same maner to have foircloissit thair entres to leith; for quhat trubill the pure realme sall endure befoir thatt thay murtheraris and injust possessouris be removit from the same, the ischew will declair. [sn: lett all man juge.] giff hir accusatioun against my lord duikis grace, and that we refusit conference, be trewlie and sempillie spokin, we will nott refuise the jugement of thay verray men, quham sche allegeis to be of sa honest a reputatioun. [sn: the duikeis answer.] thay knaw that the dukeis grace did answer, that gif the realme mycht be sett at libertie frome the bondage of thay men of weir quhilk presentlie did oppress it, and was sa feirfull to him and his brethren, that thay war compellit to absent thame selfis from the placeis quhair sche and thay maid residence; thatt he and the haill congregatioun sould cum and gif all debtfull[ ] obedience to oure soverane hir dochter, and unto hir grace, as regent for the tyme. bot to enter in conference, sa lang as sche keipis above him and his brethren that feirfull scourge of crewell strangearis, he thocht na wyise man wald counsall him. and this his answer we approve, adding farther, that sche can mak us no promeis quhilk sche can keip nor we can creddeit, sa lang as sche is forceit with the strenth, and reuillit be the counsall of frensche.[ ] we ar not ignorant that princeis think it guid policey to betray thair subjectis be breking of promeissis, be thay never so solempnitlie maid. we have nott forgett quhat counsall sche and monsieur dosell gaif to the duike against thame that slew the cardinall, and keip the castell of sanctandrois: and it was this, "that quhat promeis thay list to requyre sould be maid unto thame: bot how sone that the castell was randerit, and thyngis brocht to sick pass as was expedient, that he sould chope the heidis frome everie ane of thame." to the quhilk quhan the duike answerit, "that he wald never consent to sa treassonabill ane act, bot gif he promesit fidelitie, he wald faithfullie keip it." monsieur dosell said, in mockage to the quene, in frensche, "that is ane guid sempill nature, bot i knaw na uther prince that wald swa do." gif this was his jugement in sa small ane mater, quhat have we to suspect in this oure caus: [sn: _nota._] for now the question is not of the slauchter of ane cardinall, bot of the just abolisching of all that tyrannie quhilk that romane antechryst hes usurpit above us, of the suppressing of idolatrie, and of the reformatioun of the haill religioun, by that verming of schavelingis utterlie corruptit. [sn: the quarrell betuix france and the congregatioun of scotland.] now, gif the slauchter of ane cardinall be ane syn irremissebill,[ ] as thay thair selffis affirme, and gif faith aucht not to be keipit to heretykes, as thair awin law speikis, quhat promeise can sche that is reullit be the counsall and commandyment of ane cardinall, mak to us, that can be sure? "quhair sche accusis us, that we usurp authoritie, to command and charge free browchis to cheise provestis and officiaris of our nameing, &c., we will that the haill browchis of scotland testifie in that caise, quhydder that we have usit ony kynd of violence, bot lovinglie exhortit sick as askit support, to cheise sick in office as had the feir of god befoir thair eyis, luffitt equitie and justice, and war nott notit with avarice and brybing. bot wonder it is, with quhatt face sche can accuse us of thatt quhairof we ar innocent, and sche sua oppinlie criminall, that the haill realme knawis hir iniquities. in that caise, hes sche nott compellit the toun of edinburgh to reteane ane man to be thair provest,[ ] [sn: the lord seytoun unworthy of regiment.[ ]] maist unworthy of ony regiment in ane weill rewlit commun-wealth? hes sche nott enforceitt thame to tak baillies of hir appoyntment, and sum of thame sua meitt for thair office, in this trubilsum tyme, as ane sowtar is to saill[ ] ane schip in ane stormy day? [sn: _optima collatio._] sche compleneis thatt we will nott suffer provisioun to be maid for hir house. in verray deid we unfeinzeitlie repent, that befoir this we tuik nott better ordour that thir murtheraris and oppressouris, quham sche pretendis to nureise, for oure destructioun, had not bene disapointit of that greit provisioun of victuallis quhilk sche and thay have gadderit, to the greit hurt of the haill cuntrey. bot as god sall assist us in tymeis cuming, we sall do diligence sum-quhatt to frustrat thair devillysche purpoise. [sn: lett the papistis juge gif god hes not gevin jugement to the displesour of thair hartis.] quhatt baith sche and we[ ] pretend, we dout not bot god, quha can not suffer the abuse of his awin name lang to be unpunischeit, sall one day declair; and unto him we feir nott to committ oure cause. nether yitt feir we in this presentt to say, that against us sche makis ane maist maliciouse ley. [sn: the ley to the quene regent.] quhair that sche sayis, that it is na religioun that we ga about, bot ane plane usurpatioun of the authoritie, god forbid that sick impietie sould enter into oure hartis, that we sould mak his holie religioun ane cloik and covertour of oure iniquitie. frome the begynning of this contraversie, it is evidentlie knawin quhat have bene oure requeistis, quhilk gif the rest of the nobilitie and communitie of scotland will caus be peformeit unto us, giff than ony sygne of rebellioun appeir in us, lett us be reputit and punisit as traytouris. bot quhill strangearis ar brocht in to suppres us, our commun-welth, and posteritie, quhill idolatrie is mentenit, and christ jesus his trew religioun dispysit, quhill idill bellies and bludy tyrantis, the bischopis, ar mentenit, and christis trew messingeris persecutit; quhill, fynallie, vertew is contemnit, and vice extollit, quhill that we, ane greit pairt of the nobilitie and communaltie of this realme, ar maist injustlie persecuteit, quhat godlie man can be offendit that we sall seik reformatioun of thir enormiteis, (yea, evin be force of armes, seing that uthirwayis it is denyit unto us;) we ar assureit that nether god, neather nature, neather ony just law, forbiddis us. [sn: the caus that movit the nobilitie of this realme to oppone thame to the quene regent.] god hes maid us counsallouris be birth of this realme; nature byndis us to luiff our awin cuntrey; and just lawis commandis us to support oure brethren injustlie persecutit. yea, the aith that we have maid, to be trew to this commune-wealth, compellis us to hasard quhatsoever god hes gevin us, befoir that we see the miserabill rewyne of the same. gif ony think this is not religioun quhilk now we seik, we answer, that it is nathing ellis, bot the zeall of the trew religioun quhilk movis us to this interpryse: [sn: the same mynd remanis to this day.] for as the ennemy dois craftelie foirsee that idolatrie can not be universalie mentenit, onless that we be utterlie suppressit, sua do we considder that the trew religioun (the puritie quhairof we onlie requyre) can not be universalie erectit, unless strangearis be removit, and this pure realme purgeit of thir pestilencis quhilk befoir have infectit it. and thairfoir, in the name of the eternall god, and of his sone chryst jesus, quhais caus we sustene, we requyre all oure brethren, naturall scottis men, prudentlie to considder oure requeistis, and with judgment to decerne betuix us and the quene regent and hir factioun, and not to suffer thame selfis to be abused by her craft and deceat, that eather thei shall lift thair weaponis against us thair brethren, who seik nothing butt godis glorie, eyther yitt that thei extract frome us thare just and detfull[ ] supporte, seing that we hasard our lyves for preservatioun of thame and us, and of our posteritie to come: assuring suche as shall declair thame selves favoraris of her factioun, and ennemeis unto us, that we shall repute thame, whensoever god shall putt the sword of justice in our handis, worthie of such punishment, as is dew for such as studie to betray thair countree in the handis of strangearis." [sn: this promeiss was foryett,[ ] and thairfoir hes god plagued. what spreit could haue hoped for victorie in so disperate dangearis.] this our answer was formed, and divulgat in some places, but not universallie, be reassone of our day appointit to meitt at striveling, as befoir is declaired. in this meantyme, the quene her postes ran with all possible expeditioun to draw men to her devotioun; and in verray deid, sche fand mo favoraris of her iniquitie then we suspected. for a man that of long tyme had bene of our nomber in professioun, offered (as himself did confesse) his service to the quene regent, to travaill betuix hir grace and the congregatioun for concord. sche refused nott his offer; bott knowing his simplicitie, sche was glad to employ him for her advantage. the man is maister robert lockart,[ ] a man of whome many have had and still have good opinioun, as tweiching his religioun; bott to enter in the dresse of suche affaris, nott so convenient, as godlie and wyise men wold requyre. he travailled nocht the less earnestlie in the quene regentis affares, and could nott be perswaded bot that sche ment sincerlie, and that sche wold promote the religioun to the uttermost of her power. he promissed in hir name, that sche wald putt away hir frensche men, and wald be reulled by the counsall of naturall scottismen. when it was reassoned in his contrary, "that yf sche war so mynded to do, sche could have found mediatouris a great deall more convenient for that purpose." he feared nott to affirme, "that he knew more of her mynd then all the frenche or scottis that war in scotland, yea more then her awin brethren that war in france." he travailled with the erle of glencarne, the lordis uchiltrie and boid, with the larde of dun, and with the preacheouris, to whome he had certane secreat letteris, which he wald not deliver, onless that thei wald maik a faithfull promeise, that thei should never reveill the thing conteaned in the same. to the whiche it was answered, "that in no wyise thei could maik suche a promeise, be reassone that thei war sworne one to another, and altogetther in one body, that thei should have no secreat intelligence nor dress with the quene regent, bot that thei should communicat with the great counsall whatsoever sche proponed unto thame, or thei did answer unto her." as by this answer, written by johne knox to the quene regent, may be understand,[ ] the tennour whairof followis:-- "[madame,][ ] "my dewitie moist humilie premissed: your grace's servand, maister robert lockard, maist instantlie hes requyred me and otheris, to whome your graceis letteris, as he alledged, war directed, to receave the same in secreat maner, and to geve to him answer accordinglie. bot becaus some of the nomber that he required war and ar upoun the great counsall of this realme, and thairfoir ar solempnedlie sworne to have nothing to do in secreate maner, neather with your grace, neather yitt with any that cumis fra yow, or fra your counsall; and swa thei could not receave your grace letteris with sick conditionis as the said maister robert required; and thairfoir thocht he good to bring to your grace agane the said letteris close. and yitt becaus, as he reportis, he hes maid to your grace some promeise in my name; att his requeist, i am content to testifie by my letter and subscriptioun, the sume of that quhilk i did communicat with him. in dondie, after many wourdis betuix him and me, i said, that albeit diverse sinister reportis had bene maid of me, yitt did i never declair any evident tockin of haiterent nor inmitie against your grace. for yf it be the office of a verray freind to geve trew and faythfull counsall to thame whome he seis ryn to destructioun for lack of the same, i could nott be provin ennemye to your grace, bot rather a freind unfeaned.[ ] for what counsall i had gevin to your grace, my writtingis, alsweall my letteris and additioun to the same, now prented,[ ] as diverse otheris quhilkis i wrait fra sanct johnestoun, may testifie. i farther added, that sick ane ennemye was i unto yow, that my tung did bayth perswaid and obteane, that your authoritie and regiment should be obeyed of us in all thingis lawchfull, till ye declaired your self open ennemye to this commoun-wealth, as now, allace! ye have done. this i willed him moreover to say to your grace, that yf ye, following the counsall of flatterand men, having no god bot this world and thair bellies, did proceid in your malice against christ jesus his religioun, and trew ministeris, that ye should do nothing ellis but accclerat and haste godis plague and vengeance upoun your self and upoun your posteritie: and that ye, (yf ye did not change your purpose hastelie,) should bring your self in sick extreame danger, that when ye wold seak remeady, it should nott be sa easy to be found, as it had bene befoir. this is the effect and sume of all that i said at that tyme, and willed him, yf he pleased, to communicat the same to your grace. and the same yitt agane i notifie unto your grace, by this my letter, writtin and subscryved at edinburgh, the of october . (_sic subscribitur_,) "your grace's to command in all godlynes. "john knox. "_postscriptum._--god move your harte[ ] yitt in tyme to considder, that ye feght nott against man, bot against the eternall god, and against his sone jesus christ, the onlie prince of the kingis of the earth." * * * * * at whiche answer, the said maister robert was so offended, that he wald nott deliver his letteris, saying, "that we wer ungodlie and injuriouse to the quene regent yf we suspected any craft in hir." to the whiche it was answered, by one of the preacheouris, "that tyme should declair, whitther he or thei war deceaved. yff sche should nott declair hir self ennemye to the trew religioun whiche thei professed, yf ever sche had the upper hand, then thei wald be content to confesse that thei had suspected her sinceritie without just cause. bot and yf sche should declair her malice no less in tymes cuming than sche had done befoir, thei required that he should be more moderat then to dampne thame whose conscience he knew nott." and this was the end of the travaill for that tyme, after that he had trubled the conscience of many godlie and qwiet personis. for he and other who war her hyred postes, ceassed nott to blaw in the earis of all man, that the quene wes hevelie done to; that sche required nothing bot obedience to her doghtter; that sche was content that the trew religioun should go fordwarde, and that all abuses should be abolished; and be this meane thei broght a gruge and divisioun amang our selfis. for many (and our brethrene of lowthiane especiallie) began to murmur, that we soght another thing than religioun, and so ceassed to assist us certane dayis, after that we wer cumed to edinburgh, whiche we did according to the former diet, the day of october. this grudge and truble amangis our selfis was not reased by the foirsaid maister robert[ ] onlye, bot by those pestilentis whome befoir we have expressed, and maister james balfour especiallie, whose vennemouse tounges against god and his trew religioun, as thei deserve punishement of men, so shall thei not escheap godis vengeance, onless that spedelie thei reapent. [sn: the secound admonitioun to the quene regent.] after our cuming to edinburgh the day foirnamed, we assembled in counsall, and determined to geve new advertisement to the quenis grace regent, of our conventioun, and in suche sorte; and so with commoun consent we send unto her our requeast, as followis:-- "[madame,][ ] "it will pleise your grace reduce to your remembrance, how at our last conventioun at hammyltoun, we required your hienes, in our maist humbill maner, to desist from the fortifeing of this town of leyth, then interprysed and begone, quhilk appeared to us (and yitt does) ane entree to ane conqueist, and overthrow to our liberties, and altogidder against the lawis and custumes of this realme,[ ] seing it was begune, and yit continewis, without any advise and consent of the nobilitie and counsall of this realme. quhaifoir now, as of befoir, according to our dewitie to our commoun-wealth, we most humelie requyre your grace to caus your strangearis and soldiouris whatsumever to departe of the said town of leyth, and maik the same patent, not onlye to the inhabitantis, bot also to all scottishmen, our soverane ladyes liegis. assureand your hienes, that yf, refusand the samyn, ye declair thairby your evill mynd toward the commoun-weill and libertie of this realme, we will (as of befoir) mene and declair the caus unto the haill nobilitie and communaltie of this realme; and according to the oath quhilk we have sworne for the mantenance of the commoun-weall, in all maner of thingis to us possible, we will provid reamedy: thairfoir requyring most humblie your grace answer in haist with the berar, becaus in our eyis the act continewallie proceadis, declaring ane determinatioun of conquest, quhilk is presumed of all men, and not without caus. and thus, after our humill commendatioun of service, we pray almychttie god to have your grace in his eternall tuitioun." * * * * * these our letteris receaved, our messinger was threatned, and withholdin a whole day. thairefter he was dismissed, without ony other answer bot that sche wald send ane answer when sche thocht expedient. in this meantyme, becaus the rumour ceassed nott, that the duke his grace usurped the authoritie, he was compelled, with the sound of trumpete, at the mercat croce of edinburgh, to maik his purgatioun, in forme as followis, the xix day of october: [sn: the duik long befoir falslie accused of usurpatioun.[ ]] the purgatioun of the duik. "forsamekle as my lord duik of chastellerault, understanding the fals reporte maid be the quene regent against him, that he and his sone, my lord of arrane, should pretend usurpatioun of the croune and authoritie of this realme, when in verray deid he nor his said sone never anis mynded sic thingis, bott allanerlie in simplicitie of heart, movit partlie be the violent persute of the religioun and trew professouris thairof, partlie by compassioun of the commoun-wealth and poore communitie of this realme, oppressed with strangearis, he joyned him self with the rest of the nobilitie, with all hasard, to supporte the commoun caus of that ane and of that uther; hes thoght expedient to purge him self and his said sone, in presence of yow all, as he had done in presence of the counsall, of that same cryme, of auld, evin be summondis, laid to his charge the secound year of the regne of our soverane lady. quhilk malice hes continewed ever against him, maist innocent of that cryme, as your experience bearis witness; and planelie protestis, that neather he nor his said sone suittis and seikis any pre-eminence,[ ] eather to the croune or authoritie, bot als far as his puissance may extend, is readdy, and ever shalbe, to concur with the rest of the nobilitie his brethren, and all otheris whais hartis ar tweichet to manteane the commoun caus of religioun and liberty of thair native cuntrey, planelie invaded be the said regent and hir said soldiouris, wha onlye does forge sick vane reportis to withdraw the heartis of trew scottisemen from the succour thai aught of bound dewitie to thair commoun-weall opprest. quharefoir [he] exhortis all men that will manteane the trew religioun of god, or withstand this oppressioun or plane conquest, interprysed be strangearis upoun our native scottisemen, nott to credyte sick fals and untrew reportis, bot rather concurr with us and the rest of the nobilitie, to sett your countree at libertie, expelling strangearis thairfra; whiche doing, ye shall schaw your self obedient to the ordinance of god, whiche was establisshed for mantenance of the commoun-weall, and trew members of the same." the xxi day of october, cam fra the quene then regent maister robert forman,[ ] lyoun king of armes, who broght unto us ane writting in this tennour and credit:-- "eftir commendatioun: we have receavit your letter of edinburgh the xix of this instant, whiche appeared to us rather to have cumit fra ane prince to his subjectis, nor fra subjectis to thame that bearis authoritie: for answer whairof, we have presentlie directed unto yow this berar, lyon herald king of armes, sufficientlie instructed with our mynd, to whome ye shall geve credence. "at leyth, the of october . (_sic subscribitur_,) "marie r." [sn: lett this be noted, and left all men judge of the purpose of the frenche.] his credit is this:-- "that sche woundered how any durst presume to command her in that realme, whiche neaded not to be conquest by any force, considering that it was allready conqueissed by marriage; that frenche men could nott be justlie called strangearis, seing that thei war naturalized; and thairfoir that sche wald neather maik that toun patent, neather yitt send any man away, bot as sche thocht expedient. sche accused the duik of violating his promeise: sche maid long protestatioun of her love towardis the commoun-wealth of scotland; and in the end commanded, that under pane of treassone, all assistaris to the duke and unto us, should departe from the toune of edinburgh."[ ] this answer receaved, credite heard, preconceaved malice sufficientlie espyed, consultatioun was tacken what was expedient to be done. and for the first it was concluded, that the herauld should be stayed till farder determinatioun should be tacken. [sn: the ordour of the suspensioun of the quein regent, from authoritie within scotland.] the haill nobilitie, baronis, and broughes, then present, wer commanded to convene in the tolbuyth of edinburgh, the same xxj day of october, for deliberatioun of these materis. whare the hole caus being exponed by the lord ruthven, the questioun was proponed, "whetther sche that so contempteouslie refuissed the most humill requeist of the borne counsallouris of the realm, being also bott a regent, whose pretenses threatned the boundage of the hole commoun-wealth, awght to be sufferred so tyrannouslie to impyre above tham?" and because that this questioun had nott bene befoir disputed in open assemblie, it was thoght expedient that the judgement of the preachearis should be required; who being called and instructed in the caise, johne willok, who befoir had susteaned the burthen of the churche in edinburgh, commanded[ ] to speik, maid discourse, as followeth, affirmyng:-- [sn: the discourse of johne willock.] "first, that albeit magistratis be goddes ordinance, having of him power and authoritie, yitt is not thair power so largelie extended, but that is bounded and limited by god in his word. "and secundarlie, that as subjectis ar commanded to obey thair magistratis, so ar magistratis commanded to geve some dewitie to the subjectis; so that god by his word, hes prescribed the office of the one and of the other. "thridlie, that albeit god hath appointed magistratis his lievtennentis on earth, and hes honored thame with his awin title, calling thame goddis, that yitt he did never so establess any, but that for just causses thei mycht have bene depryved. "fourtlie, that in deposing of princes, and those that had bene in authoritie, god did nott alwyise use his immediate poware; but sometymes he used other meanis whiche his wisedome thocht good and justice approved, as by asa he removed maacha his awin mother from honour and authoritie, whiche befoir sche had brooked; by jehu he destroyed joram, and the haill posteritie of achab; and by diverse otheris he had deposed from authoritie those whome befoir he had establesshed by his awin worde." [sn: the causes.] and heirupoun concluded he, "that since the quene regent denyed her cheaf dewitie to the subjectis of this realme, whiche was to minister justice unto thame indifferentlie, to preserve thair liberties from invasioun of strangearis, and to suffer thame have godis word freelie and openlie preached amanges thame; seing, moreover, that the quene regent wes ane open and obstinat idolatress, a vehement manteanare of all superstitioun and idolatrie; and, finallie, that sche utterlie dispysed the counsall and requeistis of the nobilitie, he could see no reassone why they, the borne counsallouris, nobilitie, and baronis of the realme, mycht nott justlie deprive her from all regiment and authoritie amanges thame." [sn: the judgement of johne knox, in the dispositioun of the quein regent.] heirefter was the judgement of johne knox required, who, approving the sentence of his brother, added,-- "first, that the iniquitie of the quene regent, and mysordour owght in nowyis to withdraw neather our heartis, neather yitt the heartis of other subjectis, from the obedience dew unto our soveranis. "secundarly, that and yf we deposed the said quene regent rather of malice and privat invy, than for the preservatioun of the commoun-wealth, and for that her synnes appeared incurable, that we should nott escheap godis just punishment, howsoever that sche had deserved rejectioun from honouris. "and thridlie, he required that no suche sentence should be pronunced against her, bott that upoun her knawin and oppen reapentance, and upoun her conversioun to the commoun-wealth, and submissioun to the nobilitie, place should be granted unto her of regresse to the same honouris from the whiche, for just causses, sche justlie might be deprived." the votes of everie man particularlie by him self required, and everie man commanded to speik, as he wald ansure to god, what his conscience judged in that mater, thair was none found, amonges the hole number, who did nott, by his awin toung consent to her deprivatioun. thairefter was her process[ ] committed to writt, and registrat, as followeth:-- [sn: the enormities committed by the quein regent.] "at edinburgh, the twenty one day of october . the nobilitie, baronis, and broughes convenit to advise upoun the affairis of the commoun-weall, and to ayde, supporte, and succour the samyn, perceaving and lamenting the interprysed destructioun of thair said commoun-weall, and overthrow of the libertie of thair native cuntree, be the meanes of the quene regent, and certane strangearis her prevey counsallouris, plane contrarie oure soveranes lord and ladyis mynd, and direct against the counsall of the nobilitie, to proceid by litill and litill evin unto the uttermost, sa that the urgent necessitie of the commoun-weall may suffer na langare delay, and earnestlie craves our supporte: seing heirfoir that the said quene regent, (abusing and owir passing our soveranes lord and ladyis commissioun, gevin and granted to her,) hes in all her proceidingis, persewit the baronis and broughes within this realme, with weapones and armour of strangearis, butt ony process or ordour of law, thei being oure soverane lord and ladyis trew liegis, and never called nor convict in any cryme be ony judgement lauchfull; as first at sanct johnestoun, in the moneyth of maij, sche assembled her army against the towne and inhabitantis thairof, never called nor convict in any cryme, for that thei professed trew wirschip of god, conforme to his moist sacrat worde; and lyikwyis in the moneyth of junij last, without any lauchfull ordour or calling going befoir, invaded the persones of syndre noble men and baronis with force of armes convenit at sanctandrois, onlie for caus of religioun, as is notoriouslie knawin, thei never being callit nor convict in ony cryme: attour layed garnisonis the same moneth upoun the inhabitantis of the said toun of sanct johnestoun, oppressing the liberties of the quenis trew lieges; for feir of whiche her garnisones, ane great parte of the inhabitantis thairof, fled of the towne, and durst nott resorte agane unto thair housses and heretages, whill thei war restored be armes, thei notwithstanding never being called nor convict in any cryme. and farder, that samyn tyme did thrust in upoun the headis of the inhabitantis of the said towne provest and baillies, against all ordour of electioun; as laitlie, in this last moneth of september, sche had done in the townes of edinburgh and jedburgh, and diverse utheris plaices, in manifest[ ] oppressioun of our liberties. last of all, declairing her evill mynd toward the nobilitie, commountie,[ ] and haill natioun, hes brocht in strangearis, and dalie pretendis to bring in grettar force of the samyn; pretending ane manifest conqueast of our native rowmes and countree, as the deid it self declaires: in sa far as sche heaving brocht in the saidis strangearis, but ony advise of the said counsall and nobilitie, and contrair thair expresse mynd send to her grace in writt, hes plaicet and planted her saidis strangearis in ane of the principall townis and portis of the realme, sending continewallie for grettar forces, willing thairby to suppress the commoun-weall, and libertie of our native countree, to mak us and our posteritie slaves to strangearis for ever: whiche, as it is intollerable in commoun-wealthis and free cuntreis, sa is it verray prejudiciall to our soverane ladye, and her airis quhatsumever, in caise our soverane lord deceise butt airis of hir grace's persone; and to perfurneise hir wicked interpises,[ ] consavit (as appeiris) of inveterat malice against our cuntree and natioun, causes (but any consent or advise of the counsall and nobilitie) cunzie layit-money, sa base, and of sick quantitie, that the hole realme shalbe depauperat, and all traffique with forane nationis evertit thairby; and attour, her grace places and manteanes, contrair the pleasour of the counsall of this realme, are strangear in ane of the greattest offices of credite within this realme, that is, in keaping of the great seall[ ] thairof, quhairintill great parrellis may be ingenerat to the commoun-weall and libertie thairof: [sn: hir doughter followed the same; for to davy was delivered the greatt seall.[ ]] and farder, laitlie send the said great seall furth of this realme be the said strangeare, contrair the advise of the said counsall, to what effect god knawis; and hes ellis be his meanes alterat the auld law and consuetude of our realme, ever observit in the graces and pardonis granted be our soveranes to all thair liegis being repentand of thair offenses committed against thair hienes or the liegis of the realme; and hes introducit a new captiouse styill and forme of the saidis pardonis and remissionis, attending to the practise of france, tending thairby to draw the saidis liegis of this realme, be process of tyme, in a deceavable snair; and farder, sall creipe in the haill subversioun and alteratioun of the remanent lawis of this realme, in contrair the contentis of the appointment of marriage; and als peace being accordit amanges the princes, reteanes the great armye of strangearis after command send be the king of france to reteyre the same, maiking excuise that thei war reteaned for suppressing of the attemptatis of the liegis of this realme, albeit the haill subjectis thairof, of all estaitis, is and ever hes bene reddy to give all debtfull obedience to thair soveranis, and thair lawchfull ministeris, proceiding, be godis ordinance: and the said armye of strangearis not being payed of waiges, was layed be her grace upoun the neckis of the poore communitie of our native countree, who was compelled be force to defraude tham selfis, thair wyffis, and barnes, of that poore substance quhilk thei mycht conqueiss with the sweit of thair browis, to satisfie thair hungar and necessiteis, and quyte the samyn to susteane the idill bellies of thir strangearis. throw the whiche in all partis raise sick havye lamentatioun, and complaint of the communitie, accusing the nobilitie and counsall of thair slewth, that as the same oppressioun we dowbt nott hes entered in befoir the justice-seat of god, sa hes it movit our heartis to rewth and compassioun. and for redressing of the samyn, with other great offenses committed against the publict weall of this realme, we have convened hear, as said is; and as oft tymes of befoir, hes maist humblie, and with all reverence, desyred and required the said quene regent, to redress the saidis enormities, and especiallie to remove her strangearis from the neckis of the poore communitie, and to desist fra interprysing or fortificatioun of strenthis within this realme, against the express will of the nobilitie and counsall of the same: yitt we being convened the mair stark for feir of her strangearis, whome we saw presume na other thing bot with armes to persew our lyves and possessiounis, besoght hir grace to remove the feare of the samyn, and mak the towne patent to all our soverane lord and ladyis liegis; the same on nawyise wald her grace grant unto; but when some of our cumpany in peciable maner went to view the said towne, thair wes boyth great and small munitioun schot furth at thame. and seing thairfoir that neather access was granted to be used, nor yitt her grace wald joyne her self to us, to consult upoun the effairis of our commoun-weall, as we that be borne counsallouris to the same, be the ancient lawis of the realme; but fearing the judgement of the counsall wald reforme, as necessitie requyred, the foirsaid enormities, sche refuisses all maner of assistance with us, and be force and violence intendis to suppresse the liberties of our commoun-weall, and of us the favoraris of the samyn: we, thairfoir, sa mony of the nobilitie, barones, and provest of burrowes, as ar tweichet with the cair of the commoun-weall, (unto the whiche we acknowledge our self nott onlie borne, bot alswa sworne protectouris and defendaris, against all and whatsomever invaidaris of the same,) and moved be the foirsaidis proceidingis notorious, and with the lamentable complaynt of oppressioun of our communitie, our fallow memberis of the samyn: perceaving farder, that the present necessitie of our commoun-weill may suffer na delay, being convenit (as said is) presentlie in edinburgh, for supporte of our commoun-weall, and ryplie consulted and advisit, taking the fear of god befoir our eyis, for the causses foirsaidis, whiche ar notorious, with one consent and commoun vote, ilk man in ordour his judgement being required, in name and authoritie of our soverane lord and lady, suspendis the said commissioun granted be our saidis soveranis to the said quene dowager; dischargeing her of all administratioun or authoritie sche hes or may have thairby, unto the nixt parliament to be sett be our advise and consent; and that becaus the said quene, be the foirsaidis faltis notorious, declairis hir self ennemye to our commoun-weall, abusing the power of the said authoritie, to the destructioun of the samyn. and lyikwyise, we discharge all members of her said authoritie fra thinfurth; and that na cunze be cunzeit fra thinfurth without expresse consent of the said counsall and nobilitie, conforme to the lawis of this realme, whiche we manteane: and ordanis this to be notifeid and proclamed be officiaris of armes, in all head burghis within the realme of scotland. in witnes of the whiche, our commoun consent and free vote, we have subscrivit this present act of suspensioun with our handis, day, yeare, and place foirsaidis." [(_sic subscribitur_,) by us, the nobility and commouns of the protestants of the churche of scotland.][ ] after that this our act of suspensioun was by sound of trumpett divulgat at the mercat croce of edinburgh, we dismissed the herauld with this answer:-- "pleis your grace, "we resavit your answer, and heard the credit of lyoun king of armes, whairby we gathered sufficientlie your perseverance in evill mynd toward us, the glorie of god, our commoun-weall, and libertie of our native countrey. for savetie of the whiche, according to our dewitie, we have in our soverane lord and ladyeis name suspended your commissioun, and all administratioun of the policey your grace may pretend thairby, being maist assuiredlie persuaded, your proceidingis[ ] ar direct contrair our soveranes lord and ladyis will, whiche we ever esteame to be for the weall, and nott for the hurte of this our commoun-wealth. and as your grace will nott acknawledge us, our soverane lord and ladyis liegis, trew barones and liegis, for your subjectis and counsall, na mair will we acknawledge yow for any regent[ ] or lauchfull magistrat unto us; seing, gif any auctoritie ye have be reassone of our soveranis commissioun granted unto your grace, the same, for maist wechtie reassones, is worthelie suspended be us, in the name and authoritie of our soveranis, whais counsall we ar of in the effares of this our commoun-weall. and for als mekle as we ar determinat, with hasard of our lyves, to sett that towne[ ] at libertie, whairin ye have most wrangouslie planted[ ] your soldiouris and strangearis, for the reverence we aucht to your persone, as mother to our soverane lady, we require your grace to transporte your persone thairfra, seing we ar constrayned,[ ] for the necessitie of the commoun-weall, to sute the samyn be armes, being denyed of the libertie thairof, be sindree requisitionis maid of befoir. attour, your grace wald caus departe with yow out of the said towne, ony persone havand commissioun in ambassadore, yf any sick be, or in lieutennentschip of our soveranis, together with all frenchemen, soldiouris, being within the same, (whais bloode we thrust nott, becaus of the auld amitie and freindschip betuix the realme of france, and us, whiche amitie, be occasioun of the mariage of our soverane lady to the king of that realme, should rather increase nor decrease;) and this we pray your grace and thame bayth to do within the space of twenty four houris, for the reverence we awcht unto your persones. and thus recommending our humill service to your grace, we committ your hienes to the eternall protectioun of god. "at edinburgh, the xxiij day[ ] of october . "your graces humile servitouris."[ ] the day following, we summoned the towne of leyth by the sound of trumpet, in forme as followeth:-- "i require and charge, in name of oure soverane lord and lady, and of the counsall presentlie in edinburgh, that all scottis and frenche men, of whatsumever estait and degree thai be, that thei departe of this towne of leyth within the space of twelf houris, and maik the samyn patent to all and sindrie our soverane ladyis liegis; for seing we have na sick haitrent at eyther that ane or that other,[ ] that we thrust the bloode of any of the twa, for that ane is our naturall brother, borne, nurished, and broght up within the bowellis of ane commoun countree; and with that other, our natioun hes continewed lang amitie and allya, and hopis that sa shall do sa lang as swa thei list to use us, and nott suite to maik slavis of freindis, whiche this strenthnyng of oure townis pretendis. and thairfoir maist hartlie desyres that ane and that uther, to desist frome fortifeing and manteanyng of this towne, in our soveranis and thair said counsallis name, desyres thame to maik the same free within the space of xij houris." [sn: treasson amongis the counsall.] defiance gevin, thair was skarmissing, without great slawchtter. preparatioun of scailles[ ] and ledderis was maid for the assault, whiche was concluded by commoun consent of the nobilitie and barones. the scailles war appointed to be maid in sanct gelis churche, so that preaching was neglected, whiche did nott a little greve the preachearis, and many godlie with thame. the preacharis spared not openlie to say, "that thei feared the successe of that interpryse should nott be prosperous, becaus the begynnyng appeired to bring with it some contempt of god and of his word. other places, (said thei,) had bene more apt for suche preparationis, then whare the people convenit to commoun prayeris and unto preacheing." in verray deid the audience was wounderfullie trubled all that[ ] tyme, whiche (and other mysordour espyed amanges us) gave occasioun to the preachearis to efferme, "that god could nott suffer suche contempt of his worde, and abuses of his grace, long to be unpunished." the quene had amangis us her assured espiallis, who did not onlie signifie unto her what wes our estait, bot also what was our counsall, purposes, and devises. borne of our awin company war vehementlie suspected to be the verray betrayouris of all our secreattis; for a boy of the officiallis of lowthiane, maister james balfour,[ ] was tackin carying a writting, whiche did open the maist secreat thing was devised in the counsall; yea, these verray thingis whiche war thocht[ ] to have bene knawin but to a verray few. [sn: the duck and his freindis feirfull.] by suche domesticall ennemyis war nott onlie our purposes frustrat, bot also our determinationis wer oftyme owerthrowin and changed. the dukis freindis geve unto him suche terrouris, that he was greatlie trubled; and by his fear war trubled many otheris. [sn: the ungodlie soldiouris.] the men of warr (for the maist parte wer men without god or honestie) made a mutiney, becaus thai lacked a parte of thair waiges: thei had done the same in lynlythqw befoir, quhair thei maid a proclamatioun, "that thei wald serve any man to suppress the congregatioun, and sett up the messe agane." thai maid a fray upoun the erle of ergylis hieland men, and slew one of the principall children of his chalmer; who notwithstanding behaved him self so moderatlie, and so studiouse to pacifie that tumult, that many woundered alsweill of his prudent counsall and stowtness, as of the great obedience of his cumpany. the ungodlie soldiouris notwithstanding maligned, and continewing in thair mysordour, thei boasted the lard of tullybarne[ ] and uther noble men, who cohorted thame to quyetness. [sn: the quein regentis practises.] all these trubles war practised by the quene, and putt in executioun by the tratouris amangis our selff; who, albeit they then lurked, and yitt ar not manifestlie noted, yitt we dowbt not but god shall utter thame to thair confusioun, and to the example of utheris. to pacifie the men of warr, a collectioun was devised. but becaus some wer poore, and some wer nigardis and avaritiouse, thair could no sufficient sowme be obteined. [sn: the fact of the counsall.] it was thocht expedient that a cunze should be erected, that everie noble man should cunzie his silver work to supplie the present necessitie; and thairthrow david forress, johne harte,[ ] and utheris who befoir had charge of the cunzie-house,[ ] did promeise thair faythfull lawbouris. [sn: the treasoun of johne heart.] bot when the mater come to the verray point, the said johne heart, and utheris of his factioun, stall away, and tuk with thame the instrumentis apt for thair purpose. whetther this was done by the falsheid and feablenes of the said johnne, or the practising of otheris, is yitt uncertane. rested then no hoip amangis our selfis that any money could be furnessed; and thairfoir it was concluded, by a few of those whom we judged most secreat, that schir raiff saidlair, and schir james croftis,[ ] then having charge at berwik, should be tempted, yf thei wald supporte us with any reassonable soume in that urgent necessitie. and for that purpose, was the lard of ormestoun directed unto thame in so secreat maner as we could devise. bot yit our counsall was disclosed to the quene, who appointed the lord bothwell, (as him selff confessed,) to wait upoun the returnyng of the said lard, as that he did with all diligence; and so being assuredlie informed by what way he came, the said erle bothwell foirsett[ ] his way, and cuming upoun him at unwares, did tack him, after that he was evill wounded in the heid;[ ] for nether could he gett his led horse, nor yitt his steall bonet. with him was tacken the sowme of four thowsand crownis of the sone, whiche the forenammed schir raiff and schir james moist lovinglie had send for our supporte. the bruit heirof cuming to our earis, oure dolour was dowbled; not so muche for the loss of the money, as for the tynsall of the gentilman, whome we suspected to have bene slane, or at the least that he should be delivered to the quenis handis. and so upoun the suddane, the erle of errane, the lord james, the maister of maxwell, with the most parte of the horsemen, took purpose to persew the said erle bothwell, yf thei mycht apprehend him in creychttoun or morhame, whittherto (as thei war informed) he had reteared him self after his treassonable fact: we call his fact treassonable, becaus that thrie dayis befoir he had send his especiall servand, maister michaell balfour, to us to edinburgh, to purchese of the lordis of the counsall licence to come and speak us; whiche we granted, efter that he had promesed, that in the meantyme he should neather hurte us, neather yitt any till us appertenyng, till that he should writt his answer agane, whitther that he wald joyne with us or not. [sn: the erle bothwell fals in promeise, and his treasonable fact.] he gave us farder to understand, that he wald discharge him self of the quene, and thairefter wald assist us. and yitt in this meantyme, he crewelly and tratorouslie hurte and spuilzeid the noble man foirsaid. albeit that the departure and counsall of the erle of arrane and lord james, with thair cumpany foirsaid, wes verray suddane and secreat; yitt was the erle bothwell,[ ] then being in crychttoun, advertissed, and so eschaiped with the money, whiche he took with him self, as the capitane of his house, john somervaill, (whiche was tackin without lang persuyte,) confessed and affermed. becaus the noble men that soght redress, soght rather his saiftie and reconsiliatioun; then destructioun and haitrent thei committed his house to the custody of a capitane, to witt, capitane forbess, to whome, and to all soldiouris thair left, was gevin a schairpe commandiment, that all thingis found within the said hous of crychttoun,[ ] (which war putt in inventorie in presence of the lordis,) should be keipt till that the erle bothwell should geve answer, whitther he wald maik restitutioun or nott. tyme of advertisment was granted unto him the hole day subsequent, till going doune of the sone. in absence of the saidis lordis and horsemen, (we meane the same day that thei departed, whiche wes the last of october,) the provest and towne of dundye, togetther with some soldiouris, passed furth of the toune of edinburgh, and caryed with thame some great ordinance to schuitt at leyth. the duck his grace, the erle of glencarne, and the rest of the noble men, wer gone to the preacheing, whair thei continewed to nye twelf houris. the frenche being advertissed by ane named[ ] clerk, (who after was apprehended,) that our horsemen wer absent, and that the hole companye wer at dennar, issched, and with great expeditioun came to the place whair our ordinance wes laid. [sn: the first defair[ ] of the congregatioun.] the towne of dundye, with a few otheris, resisted a whill, alsweall with thair ordinance as haquebuttis; but being left of our ungodlye and feable soldiouris, who fled without strok offered or gevin, thei war compelled to give back, and so to leave the ordinance to the ennemyis, who did farder persew the fugitives, to witt, to the myddis of the cannogaite, and to the fute of leyth wynd. [sn: the crueltie of the frenche.] thair crewelty then began to discover the self; for the decrepit, the aiged, the women and childrein, fand no greater favouris in thair furye, then did the strang man, who maid resistance. it was verray appeiring, that amanges our selfis thair wes some treassoun. for when, upoun the first alarm, all man maid haist for releve of thair brethren, whome in verray deid we mycht have saved, and at least we mycht have saved the ordinance, and have keapt the cannogait from danger; for we wer anis merched fordwarte with bold curage, but then, (we say,) wes a schowt reased amonges our selfis, (god will discloise the traytouris one day,) affermyng "that the hole frenche cumpanye war entered in at leyth wynd upoun our backis." what clamor and misordour did then suddanelie arryise, we list nott to expresse with multiplicatioun of wordis. the horsemen, and some of those that aught to have putt ordour to otheris, over-rod thair poore brethren at the enteress of the netthir bow. the crye of discomforte arose in the toun; the wicked and malignant blasphemed; the feable, (amanges whome the justice clerk, schir johne bannatyne[ ] was,) fledd without mercye: with great difficultie could thei be keapt in at the weast porte. maister gavin hammyltoun[ ] cryed with a lowd voce, "drynk now as ye have browen." the frenche perceaving, be the clamour of our fray, followed, as said is, to the myddis of the cannogait, to no great nomber, bott a twenty or thretty of thair _infantes perdues_.[ ] for in that meantyme the rest reteired thame selves with our ordinance. [sn: the erle of ergyle.] the erle of ergyle and his men wer the first that stopped the fleying of our men, and compelled the porte to be opened efter that it was schoot. [sn: lord robert stewart.] bott in verray deid, lord robert stewarte,[ ] abbot of halyrudehouse, was the first that isched out. after him followed many upoun the backis of the frenche. at last cam my lord duck, and then was no man mair frack nor was maister gavin hammyltoun foirsaid. the frenche brunt a baikhouse, and tooke some spuilzie from the poores of the cannogait. thei slew a papist and dronken preast, named schir thomas sklatter, ane aiged man, a woman gevin sowk and her child, and of oure soldiouris to the nomber of ten. certane wer tane, amongis whome capitane mowat was one, [and] maister charles geddes, servitour to the maister of maxwell. [sn: the castell schot one shott.] the castell[ ] that day schot ane schott at the frenche, declairing thame thairby freindis to us, and ennemy to thame; bott he suddanelie repented of weall-doing. [sn: the quein regentis rejosing, and unwomanlie behaviour.] the queyn glad of victorye, sat upoun the ramparte to salute and welcome hir victorious suddartis.[ ] one brought a kirtill, one uther ane pettycote, the thrid, a pote or pane; and of invy more then womanlie lawchtter, sche asked, "whair bocht ye your ware? _je pense_[ ] _que vous l'aves achete sans argent._"[ ] this was the great and motherlie cayre whiche schee tooke for the truble of the poore subjectis of this realme. [sn: the counsall of the maister of maxwell.] the erle bothwell, lifted up in his awin conceat, be reassoun of this our repulse and disconfitour, utterlie refused any restitutioun; and so within two dayis after was his house spulzeid, in whiche war no thingis of ony great importance, his evidentis and certane clothing excepted. frome that day back, the curage of many was dejected. with great difficultie could men be reteaned in the towne; yea, some of the greatast estimatioun determined with thame selfis to leave the interpryise. many fled away secreatlie, and those that did abyd, (a verray few excepted,) appeared destitut of counsall and manheid. the maister of maxwell,[ ] a man stowt and wittie, foirseing the danger, desyrit moist gravelie eyther to tak suche ordour that thei mycht remane to the terrour of the ennemy, or ellis that thei should reteyre thame selfis with thair ordinance and baneris displeyed in ordour. but the wittis of men being dasched, no counsall could prevaill. thus we continewed from the wednisday, the last of october, till mononday the fyft of november,[ ] never two or thrie abyding ferme in one opinioun the space of twenty-four houris. the pestilent wittis of the quenis practisaris did then exercise thame selfis, (god sall recompanse thair maliciouse craft in thair awin bosome, we dowbt not;) for thei caused two godlie and fordward young men, the lardis of pharnyherst and cesfurd,[ ] who ones had glaidlie joyned thame selfis with us, to withdraw thame selfis and thair freindis: the same thei did to the erle mortoun, who promissed to be oures, but did never planelie joyne. thei intysed the capitane of the castell to deny us supporte, in caise we war persewed; and, finallie, the counsall of some was no less pestiferous against us, then was the counsall of achitophell against david and his discomforted soldiouris. "rander, o lord, to the wicked according to thair malice." [sn: the last discomfiture upoun monunday.] upoun mononday, the fyft[ ] of november, did the frenche ische out of leyth betymes, for kepping[ ] of the victuallis whiche should have cumed to us. we being trubled amanges our selfis, and, as said is, devided in opinionis, wer neather circumspect when thei did ische, neather yitt did we follow with suche expeditioun as had bene meitt for men that wald have sought our advantage. our soldiouris could skarslie be dong furth of the towne. the erle of arrane, lord james, and a certane with thame, maid haist. many honest man then followed, and maid suche diligence, that thei caused the frenche ones to retear somewhat effrayedlie. the rest that ware in leyth, perceaving the danger of thair fallowis, isshed out for thair succurse. the erle of arrane and lord james foirsaid, being more fordward nor prudent and circumspect, did compell the capitanes, as is allegeit, to bring thare men so ney, that eyther thei must neidis have hasarded battell with the hole frenche men, (and that under the mercy of thair cannonis also,) or ellis thei must neidis reteyre in a verray narrow cure.[ ] for our men warr approched ney[ ] to restalrig. the one parte of the frenche wer upoun the north towardis the sea, the other parte marched frome leyth to edinburgh; and yitt thei marched so, that we could have foughten neather cumpany, befoir that thei should have joyned. we took purpoise thairfoir to reteire towardis the towne, and that with expeditioun, least that the formare cumpany of the frenche should eyther have invaided the towne, befoir that we could have cumed to the reskew thairof, or ellis have cutted us of from the entress, at the abbay of halyrudhouse, as appeirandlie thei had done, yf that the lard of grange and alexander quhytlaw, with a few horsemen, had nott stayed boith thair horsemen and thair footmen. the cumpany whiche was nixt us, perceaving that we reteired with speid, send furth thair skyrmissaris, to the nomber of thre or foure hundreth, who took us att ane disadvantage; befoir us having the myre of restalrig[ ] betuix us and thame, so that in no wise we could charge thame; and we war inclosed by the park dyke,[ ] so that in nowyse we could avoid thair schott. thair horsmen followed upoun our taillis, and slew diverse; our awin[ ] horsemen over-rode our futemen; and so be reassoun of the narrowness of the place, thair was no resistance maid. the erle of arrane, and lord james, in great danger, lyghted amanges the footmen, exhorting thame to have some respect to ordour, and to the saiftie of thair brethren, whome, by thair fleying, thei exponed to murther, and so war cryminall of thair deth. capitane alexander halyburtoun, a man that feared god, taryed with certane of his soldiouris behynd, and maid resistance, till that he was first schote and tackin. bot being knawin, those cruell murtheraris wounded him in diverse partis to the death.[ ] and yit, as it war by the power of god, he was brocht in to the toun, whair in few, but yit most plane wordis, he gave confessioun of his fayth, testifeing, "that he dowbted nothing of godis mercy, purchassed to him by the bloode of christ jesus; neather yit that he repented, that it pleased god to maik him worthie to sched his bloode, and spend his lyif in the defence of so just a cause." [sn: the death of alexander halyburtoun, capitane.] and thus, with the dolour of many, he ended his dolour, and did enter, (we dowt nott,) in that blessed immortalitie within two houris efter that we war defait.[ ] thare war slane to the nomber of twenty-four or thretty men, the maist parte poore. thair war tackin the lard of pitmyllie, the lard of pharny youngar, the maister of bowchane, george luvell of dundie,[ ] and some otheris of lowar estait; johnne dunbar, lieutennent to capitane mowet.[ ] capitane david murray had his horse slane, and him self hurte[ ] in the leg. [sn: how and why william maitland left leyth.] few dayis befoir oure first defait, whiche was upon alhallow evin,[ ] williame maitland of lethingtoun younger,[ ] secreattar to the quene, perceaving him self not onlye to be suspected as one that favored our parte, bot also to stand in danger of his lyiff, yf he should remane amangis sa ungodlie a cumpany; for quhensoevir materis came in questioun, he spaired not to speik his conscience; whiche libertie of toung, and gravitie of judgement, the frenche did heyghlie disdane. whiche perceaved by him, he convoyed him self away in a mornyng, and randered him self to maister kirkcaldye, lard of grange, who cuming to us, did exhorte us to constancie, assuring us, that in the quene thair was nothing but craft and deceat. he travailled exceidinglie to have reteaned the lordis togidder, and maist prudentlie laid befoir thair eyis the dangearis that myeht ensew thair departing of the town. bot fear and dolour had so seazed[ ] the hartis of all, that thei could admitt no consolatioun. the erle of arrane, and lord james, offered to abyd, yff any reassonable cumpany wald abyd with thame. bott men did so steall away, that the witt of man could not stay thame. yea, some of the greatast determined planelie that thei wald not abyd. [sn: the lord erskyn declaired him self ennemye to the congregatioun.] the capitane of the castell, than lord ersken, wald promeise unto us no favouris. but said, "he most neidis declair himself freind to those that war able to supporte and defend him." whiche answer gevin to the lord james,[ ] discoraged those that befoir had determined to have biddin the uttermost, rather then to have abandoned the towne, so that the castell wald have stand[ ] thair friend. but the contrarie declaired, everie man took purpose for him self. the complaintis of the brethren within the towne of edinburgh was lamentable and sore. the wicked then began to spew furth the vennoum whiche befoir lurked in thare cankered hearte. the godly, alsweall those that war departed, as the inhabitants of the towne, wer so trubled, that some of thame wald have preferred death to lyve, at godis pleasur. for avoiding of danger, it was concludit that thei should departe at mydnycht. the duik maid provisioun for his ordinance, and caused it to be send befoir; but the rest was left to the cayr of the capitane of the castell, who receaved it, alsweall that whiche appertenith to lord james, as that of dundy. [sn: the dispyte of the papistis of edinburgh.] the dispytfull toungis of the wicked raylled upoun us, calling us traytouris and heretiques: everie ane provoked other to cast stanes at us. one cryed, "allace, yf i mycht see;" ane other, "fye, give advertisment to the frenche men that thei may come, and we shall help thame now to cutt the throttis of these heretiques." and thus, as the sword of dolour passed throught our heartis, so war the cogitationis and formar determinationis of many heartis then reveilled. [sn: the worst is not yit come to our ennemyes.] for we wald never have belevit that our naturall countrey men and wemen could have wisshed our destructioun so unmercifullie, and have so rejosed in our adversitie: god move thair heartis to repentance! for ellis we fear that he whose caus we susteane sall lett thame feill the weght of the yock of crewell strangearis, in whose handis thei wisshed us to have bene betrayed. we stayed nott till that we came to striveling, whiche we did the day efter that we departed from edinburgh; for it was concluded, that thair consultatioun should be tacken, what was the nixt remeady in so desperat a mater. [sn: the sermoun of johne knox, in stryveling, in the greatest of our trubles.] the nixt wedinsday, whiche was the . of november,[ ] johnne knox preached, (johne willock was departed to england, as befoir he had appointed,) and entreated the , , , , and versicules of the fourscoir psalme, whair david, in the persoune of the afflicted people of god, speaketh thus:[ ] the fourt verse: "o thow the eternall, the god of hostis, how long shall thow be angree against the prayer of thy people. . thow hest fed us with the bread of tearis, and hath gevin to us tearis to drynk in great measure. . thow hest maid us a stryf unto our nychtbouris, and our ennemyis laugh us to scorne amangis thame selfis. . o god of hostis, turne us agane: maik thy face to schyne, and we shalbe saved." [ . thow hes brocht a vine out of egypte: thow hes cast out the heathen, and planted it.][ ] &c. [sn: the argument of the . psalme.] this psalme had the said johne begun in edinburgh, as it war foirseing our calamitie, of whiche in verray deid he did not obscurelie speik, butt planelie did admonishe us, that he was assured of trubles suddanelie to come; and thairfoir exhorted all men to prayeris. he entreated the three first versicles in edinburgh, to the conforte of many. he declaired the argument of the psalme, affermeing for his judgment, that it was maid by david him self, who, in the spreitt of prophesye, foirsaw the miserable estait of godis people, especiallie after that the ten tribes wer devided, and departed frome the obedience of juda; for it was nott, (said he,) without caus that josephe, ephraim, benjamin, and manasse, war especiallie named, and nott juda; to witt, becaus that thei came first to calamitie, and war translaited from thair awin inheritance, whill that juda yitt possessed the kingdome. he confessed that justlie thei war punished for idolatrie committed. but he affirmed, that amanges thame continewalie thair remaned some trew wirschipparis of god, for whose conforte war the propheittis send, alsweill to call thame to reapentance, as to assure thame of deliverance, and of the promisse of god to be performed unto thame. [sn: the divisioun.] he divided the psalme in three partis, to wit, in a prayer: . in the ground whairupoun thair prayer was founded: . and in the lamentable complaintis, and the vow whiche thei maik to god. thare prayer was, "that god should convert and turne thame; that he should maik his face to schyn upoun thame; and that he should restoir thame to thair formar dignitie." the groundis and fundationis of thair prayeris ware, . that god him self had becum pastour and governour unto thame: . that he had tacken the protectioun of thame in his awin hand: . that he had chosin his habitatioun amangis thame: . that he had delivered thame frome bondage and thraldome: . that he had multiplyed and blessed thame with many notable benedictionis. upoun those two partis he gave these notis:-- first, that the felicitie of godis people may not be measured by any externall appeirance; for oftyn it is, that the same people, to whome god becumis not onlye creator, bot also pastour and protectour, is more seveirlie intreated, then those nationis whair verray ignorance and contempt of god reigneth. secondlie, that god never maid his acquentance and leigue with any people by his worde, bott that thare he had some of his elect; who, albeit thei suffered for a tyme in the myddis of the wicked, yitt in the end thei fand conforte, and felt in verray experience, that godis promisses ar nott in vane. thridlie, that these prayeris wer dyted unto the people by the holy ghost, befoir thei came to the uttermost of truble, till assure thame that god, by whose spreit the prayare was dited, wald nott contempt the same in the myddis of thair calamities. the thrid parte, conteynyng the lamentable complaynt, he entreated in stryveling, in presence of my lord duik, and of the hole counsall. in the expositioun whairof, he declaired, whairfoir god somtymes suffered his chosin flock to be exponed to mockage, to dangearis, and to appeiring destructioun; to witt, that thei may feill the vehemencye of godis indignatioun; that thei may knaw how litill strenth is in thair selfis; that thei may leave a testimony to the generationis following, alsweill of the malice of the devill against goddis people, as of the mervaillouse werk of god, in preserving his litill flock by far other meanes then man can espye. in explanyng these wordis, "how long shall thow be angree, o lord, against the prayer of thy people?" he declaired, how dolorouse and fearfull it was to feght against that tentatioun, that god turned away his face from our prayaris; for that was nothing ellis then to comprehend and conceave god to be armed to our destructioun: whiche temptatioun no flesche can abyd nor owercome, onless the mychtie spreit of god interpone the self suddanelie. the example he gave, the impatience of saule, when god wald nott hear his prayaris. the difference betuix the elect and reprobate in that temptatioun, he planelie declaired to be, that the elect, susteaned by the secreat power of goddis spreit, did still call upoun god, albeit that he appeared to contempt thair prayaris; whiche, (said he,) is the sacrifice most acceptable to god, and is in a maner evin to feght with god, and to ovircum him, as jacob did in warsling with his angell. butt the reprobat, (said he,) being denyed of thair requeastis at godis hand, do eather cease to pray, and altogitther contempt god, who straitlie commandeth us to call upoun him in the day of adversitie; or ellis thei seik at the devill that whiche thei see thei can nott obteane by god. in the secound parte he declared, how hard it was to this corrupt nature of ouris not to rejose and putt confidence in the self, when god geveth victorye; and thairfoir how necessare it was that man by afflictioun should be brocht to the knawledge of his awin infirmitie, least that, puffed up with vane confidence, he maik ane idoll of his awin strenth, as did king nabuchadnezzar. he did gravelie disput upoun the nature of the blynd warld, whiche, in all ages, hath insolentlie rejosed when god did chasten his awin children, whose glory and honour, becaus the reprobat can never see, thairfoir thei dispyise thame, and the wonderouse werk of god in thame. and yit, (said he,) the joy and rejosing of the warld is but meare sorrow, becaus the end of it tendith to suddane destructioun, as the ryatouse banquetting of balthasar declaireth. applying these headis to the tyme and personis, (he said,) yf none of goddis children had suffered befoir us the same injureis that presentlie we susteane, these our trubles wald appear intollerable; suche is our tender delicacie, and self luif of our awin flesche, that those thingis whiche we lychtlie pass over in otheris, we can greatlie complane of, yf thei tweiche our selfis. i dowbt not bot that some of us have ofter then ones redd this psalme, as also that we have redd and heard the travaill and trubles of our ancient fatheris.[ ] but whiche of us, eather in reading or hearing thair dolouris and temptationis, did so discend in to oure selfis that we felt the bitterness of thair passionis? i think none. and thairfoir hes god brocht us to some experience in our awin personis. [sn: _specialis applicatio_] but, yit, because the mater may appeir obscure, onless it be more propirlie applyed, i can nott bot of conscience use suche plainnes as god shall grant unto me. oure faces ar this day confounded, oure ennemyes triumphe, oure heartis have quaiked for fear, and yitt thei remane oppressed with sorrow and schame. but what shall we think to be the verray cause that god hath thus dejected us? yf i shall say, our synnes and formar unthankfulness to god, i speik the treuth. butt yitt i spack more generalie then necessitie required: for when the synnes of men ar rebucked in generall, seldome it is that man discendeth within him self, accusing and dampnyng in him self that whiche most displeaseth god. butt rather he dowttis that to be a cause, whiche befoir god is no cause in deid. for example, the israelitis, feghting against the tribe of benjamin, wer twise discomfeitted, with the loss of fourtie thowsand men. thei lamented and bewailled boyth first and last; but we fynd nott that thei cam to the knawledge of thair offence and synne, whiche wes the cause that thei fell in the edge of the sworde; but rather thei dowted that to have bene a cause of thair mysfortoun, whiche god had commanded: for thei ask, "shall we go and feght any more against our brethren, the sonnes of benjamin?" by whiche questioun, it is evident, that thei supposed that the caus of thair overthrow and discomfeit was, becaus thei had lifted the sword against thair brethren and naturall countreymen. and yitt, the expresse commandiment of god that wes gevin unto thame, did deliver thame from all cryme in that caise. and yitt, no dowte but that thare wes some caus in the israelitis that god gave thame so over in the handis of those wicked men, against whom he send thame, by his awin expressed commandiment, till execut his judgementis. [sn: lett scotland yitt tack head.] suche as do weall mark the historye and the estait of that people, may easilie see the caus why god wes offended. all the haill people had declyned from god; idolatrie was manteaned by the commoun consent of the multitude; and as the text sayeth, "everie man did that whiche appeareth good in his awin eyis." in this meantyme, the levite compleaned of the vilanye that was done unto him self, and unto his wyf, whiche oppressed by the benjamites of gibeah, died under thare fylthy lustis. whiche horrible fact inflammed the heartis of the hole people to taik vengeance upoun that abhominatioun: and thairin thei offended not; but in this thei failled, that thei go to execut judgement against the wicked, without any reapentance or remorse of conscience of thair formare offenses, and defectioun from god. and, farther, becaus thei war a great multitude, and the other war far inferiour unto thame, thei trusted in thair awin strenth, and thought thame selfis able aneuch to do thair purpose, without any invocatioun of the name of god. bot after that thei had twise provin the vanitie of thair awin strenth, thei fasted and prayed, and being humbled befoir god, thai receaved a more favorable answer, ane assured promeise of the victorye. the lyik may be amangis us, albeit suddanelie we do nott espye it. and to the end that everie man may the bettir examyne him self, i will devide our hole cumpany in two sortes of men: the one ar those that from the begynnyng of this truble have susteaned the commoun danger with thair brethren: the other be those whiche laitlie be joyned to our fallowschip. in the one and in the other, i fear, that just caus shalbe found that god should thus have humiled us. and albeit, that this appear strange at the first hearing, yitt yf everie man shall examyn him self, and speik as that his conscience dites unto him, i dowbt not bot he shall subscrive my sentence. lett us begyn at our selves, who longast hes continewed in this battell. when we war a few nomber, in comparisoun of our ennemyes, when we had neather erle nor lord (a few excepted) to conforte us, we called upoun god; we tooke him for our protectour, defence, and onlie refuge. amanges us was heard no braggin of multitude, of our strenth, nor pollecey: we did onlye sob to god, to have respect to the equitie of our cause, and to the crewell persute of the tyranefull ennemye. butt since that our nomber hath bene thus multiplyed, and cheaflie sen my lord duik[ ] his grace with his freindis have bene joyned with us, thair was nothing heard, bot "this lord will bring these many hundreth spearis: this man hath the credite to perswaid this cuntrey; yf this erle be ouris, no man in suche a boundis will truble us." and thus the best of us all, that befoir felt godis potent hand to be our defence, hath of lait dayis putt flesche to be our arme. butt whairin yit hathe my lord duik his grace and his freindis offended? it may be that, as we haif trusted in thame, so have thei putt too muche confidence in thair awin strenth. but granting so be not,[ ] i see a cause most just, why the duik and his freindis should thus be confounded amangis the rest of thair brethren. i have nott yit forgottin what was the dolour and anguishe of my awin hearte, when at sanet johnestoun, cowper mure, and edinburgh crages, those crewell murtheraris, that now hath putt us to this dishonour, threatned our present destructioun: my lord duik his grace and his freindis at all the three jornayes, wes to thame a great conforte, and unto us a great discorage; for his name and authoritie did more effray and astonise us, then did the force of the other; yea, without his assistance, thei could not have compelled us to appoint with the quene upoun so unequall conditionis. i am uncertane yf my lordis grace hath unfeanedlie repented of that his assistance to those murtheraris unjustlie persewing us. yea, i am uncertane yff he hath reapented of that innocent bloode of chrystes blessed martyres, whiche was sched in his defalt. but lett it be that so he hath done, (as i hear that he hath confessed his offence befoir the lordis and brethren of the congregatioun,) yit i am assured, that neather he, nether yit his freindis, did feall befoir this tyme the anguishe and greaf of heartis whiche we felt, when in thair blynd furye thei persewed us: and thairfoir hath god justlie permitted both thame and us to fall in this confusioun at ones: us, for that we putt our trust and confidence in man; and thame, becaus that thei should feill in thair awin hearttis how bytter was the coupe which thei maid otheris to drynk befoir thame. [sn: _conclusio._] restis that boith thei and we turne to the eternall oure god, (who beattis doun to death, to the intent that he may raise up agane, to leav the remembrance of his wonderouse deliverance, to the praise of his awin name,) whiche yf we do unfeanedlie, i no more dowbt but that this our dolour, confusioun, and feare, shalbe turned into joy, honour, and boldness, then that i dowt that god gave victorye to the israelitis over the benjamites, after that twise with ignominye thei war repulsed and doung back. [sn: lett the papistis and greatest ennemyis witness.] yea, whatsoever shall become of us and of our mortall carcasses, i dowt not but that this caus, (in dyspite of sathan,) shall prevaill in the realme of scotland. for, as it is the eternall trewth of the eternall god, so shall it ones prevaill, howsoever for a time it be impugned. it may be that god shall plague some, for that thei delyte nott in the trewth, albeit for warldlye respectis thei seame to favour it. yea, god may tak some of his dearest children away befoir that thair eyis see greattar trubles. bott neather shall the one nor the other so hynder this actioun, but in the end it shall triumphe. * * * * * this sermoun ended, in the whiche he did vehementlie exhorte all man to amendment of lyffe, to prayaris, and to the warkis of charitie, the myndis of men began wounderouslye to be erected. and immediatlie after dennare, the lordis passed to counsall,[ ] unto the whiche the said johnne knox was called to mack invocatioun of the name of god, (for other preachearis war nane with us at that tyme.) in the end it was concluded, that williame maitland[ ] foirsaid should pas to londoun to expone our estait and conditioun to the quein and counsall, and that the noble men should departe to thair quyett, to the sextene day of december, whiche tyme was appointed to the nixt conventioun in striveling, as in this our thrid booke following shalbe more amplie declaired. endis the secound booke of the historye of the progresse of religioun within scotland.[ ] _look upoun us, o lorde, in the multitude of thy mercyes; for we ar brought evin to the deape of the dongeoun._ appendix. [illustration] appendix. no. i. interpolations and various readings in the editions of knox's history of the reformation, by david buchanan, printed at london, , folio, and reprinted at edinburgh, , to. (the pages and lines at the left-hand side refer to the present edition.) page , line . (_this title and preface are not contained in buchanan's editions._) , l. . _instead of the words_, "in the scrollis of glasgw," &c., _it begins_, in the records of glasgow is found mention of one whose name was james resby, an englishman by birth, scholler to wickliff: he was accused as an heretike, by one lawrence lindors in scotland, and burnt for having said, that the pope was not the vicar of christ, and that a man of wicked life was not to be acknowledged for pope. this fell out anno . farther our chronicles make mention, that _in the dayis_,[ ] &c. , l. . _injust accusatioun and condemnatioun._ both these godly men, resby and craw, suffered martyrdom for christ his truth, by henry wardlaw, bishop of st. andrewes, whom the prelates place amongst their worthies. but that their wicked _practise did not greatly advance_, &c.--l. . , l. . helene chalmer, lady pokellie, isabelle chambers, lady stairs. , l. . _ar not to be had_ in the kyrk, nor to be worshipped.-- . _that it is not_ lawfull to fight for the faith, nor to defend the faith by the sword, if we be not driven to it by necessity, which is above all law.-- . _gave power to peter_, as also to the other apostles, and not to the pope his pretended successour, _to binde_, &c.-- . _to consecrate_ as they do in the romish church these many yeers.-- . _were then called_, to wit, wholly, but a part to the poor, widow, or orphans, and other pious uses. , l. . _is a preast_, in that sence that they are called by the apostle saint john, apoc. i. , v. , xx. .-- . _coming of christ_; and truely it was but late since kings were anointed, namely in scotland, for edgar was the first anointed king in scotland, about the year .-- . _the souls_, who in those dayes were said to be _in purgatory_.-- . _not to be feared_, if there be no true cause for it.-- . _to swear_, to wit, idly, rashly, and in vain.-- . _priests_ may have wives, _according to the constitution of the law_, and of the primitive christian church.-- . _every day_ by faith.-- . _be contracted_ and consummate, the kyrk may make, &c.-- . _bindes not_ if unjust. , l. . _to miracles_, to such namely as the romish were then, and are to this day.-- . _to god onely_, since he onely hears us, and can help us.-- . _are murtherars_ of souls.-- . _that they which are called_ princes and prelates in the church, _are theives and robbers_. , l. . _upon the_ morrow after brought forth to judgment. , l. . into vulgar language.-- . (_this title and fryth's preface are not contained in buchanan's editions._) , l. . _was ane called_ will. arithe. , l. . _his_ parasites and jackmen. , l. . _and cryes_, anne has lost hir spindle.-- . _flaill stollin_ behinde the barne. , l. . _he said_--she said.-- . _that look_ over our ditch.-- . _we hold_ the bishops the cheapest servant. , l. . _for the_ other friers fearing. , l. . _in_ hollow cellars, for the smoke of. , l. , _he_ leapt up merrily upon the scaffold, and, casting a gambade, said. , l. . thy majesties sometime servant.--(_in this letter of seaton's_, your grace is _uniformly changed to_ majestie.) , l. . _to put_ out _thy_. , l. . _could greatly_ availl.-- . _fostered the_ unadvised _prince in all_ dissolutenesse, by which means they made him obsequious unto them. , l. , . _ten yearis or_ thereabout.-- . _realme_ in these times.--_intestine and_ cruell.-- . _levenax_--lenox, who was sisters son to the earle of arran. , l. . _of rome_; commanded the bible to be read in english; _suppressed_.-- . _of idolatrie_, with their idols, which gave great hope.--(_in the margin_,) . . the civil troubles give some rest to god's flock for a time.-- . _craftynes of_ gardner, bishop of.-- . _but that_ god potently had assisted him in all his life, _but_. , l. . _maid_ he _them_. , l. . _johnne stewart_ of leyth.-- . _johnestoun_, advocate. , l. . _laird of dun_, areskin.-- . _as one_ revived, cast _himself_. , l. . _whome war_ those of dundie.-- . _borthwik_, provost of lithcow.--(_in the margin_,) lesly writes this done . john borthwick fled into england, from whence henry sent him into germanie to the protestant princes. , l. . _frearis_ and _monks_, as of _channons_. , l. . alexander _kennedy_.-- . _excellent_ wit in vulgar _poesy_. , l. - . _so far had_ they blinded and corrupted the inconsiderate prince, that he gave _himself to obey the tyrannie of those bloodie beasts_, and he _made a solemne vow_. , l. . _suddane_ punishment.-- . _upon him_, if _he did not repent_, and amend his _life_. , l. . _and deid_, not saying one _worde_, _that same day that_, in _audience_. , l. . _forgevance_ of the said _thomas_. , l. - . _change or_ alter the heart of the infortunate and misled prince, but still he did proceed in his accustomed wayes. _for in the midst of these_ evills. , l. . _eschaping_, (the keepers being asleep, he went out at the window.)-- . _espy_ and detest.-- . earle of glevearne. , l. - . after _god had given unto that_ mis-informed _prince sufficient documents_, _that his_ warring _against his blessed_ gospel _should not prosperously succeed_, _he_ raised up _against him_ warres, as he did of old against divers princes that would not hear his voice, _in the which he_ lost himself, _as we shall_ here_after heare_. , l. . _our kingdome_ of abbots, monks, &c., _and_. , l. . _forresse war runne upon_--forces were sent up and down to. , l. . _to skaill_ and sunder.-- . _wounded his_ high stomacke.-- . _had not_ cut the dayes of his life. , l. . _preastis_--prelats. , l. . _what tyme_--at that time when.-- . _yles_, in the yeere .-- . _jefwellis_--juglers. , l. . _i shall_ reproove _you by sharpe_ punishments.-- . _honour nor continuance_--honour nor countenance. , l. . _thare concurred ... prophettis_, (_omitted._)-- . _closenes and_ fidelity among them.-- . _should be_ theirs.-- . _that raid_--that device.-- - . _amonges whome was_ the erle of arran, notwithstanding his siding with the current of the court, and his neernesse in blood to the king. _it was bruited._ , l. . _the_ foreward _goeth forth_, feare _rises_.-- . _thousand men_; their beacons _on every side_. , l. , . _experte_. _about ten houris_--expert, about ten hours.-- , . _baner_; and he upholden by two spears, _lift up_.-- . _and mearns_. _in this_ mountain _did_.-- . _array_ in order. , l. . _softlye_--safely. , l. . _to tack the_ bandis.-- . _somervaill_ and oliphant, _and many_.-- . _worldly men_ say that. , l. . who waited upon news at lochmaban.--(_in the margin_,) others say, at carlaverock, neere by the place where the defeat was given, called solway mosse. , l. . _ane of his_ mistresses. , l. . _for a_ scourge.-- . _it will end_ with _a woman_. from mary, daughter to robert bruse, married to walter stuart, he feared that his daughter should be married to ane of another name and family; but yow see by god's providence, the crown remains in one and the same family and name to this day, notwithstanding the many plots of the pretenders to the crowne both at home and abroad.-- . _ane_ fit _comforter_.-- . _that so_ it _should be_. , l. . _best_. the cardinal having hired one henry balfour, a priest, to make a false testament; which was done accordingly, but in vain.-- . (_in the margin_,) marke the queenes mourning for the king. (_and a few lines lower down_,) others stick not to say, that the king was hastned away by a potion. levit. .--divers characters of the king arise: post funera virtus. , l. , . _disprased him for_ being much given to women. the prelats and clergie feared a change in the king's mind, as he had expressed himself some few years before.-- . _cloked_. yet to speak truth of him, his vices may justly be attributed to the times, and his breedeing, and not any wickednesse in his nature; for he gave many expressions of a good nature, namely, in his sobriety and justice, &c. _the question._-- . _he_ pretended _to succeid_.-- . _oppones thame_, and are against _the governement_. , l. . _against_ god's _justice_.-- . _and_ so, _in despite_. , l. . _heirof_ we _will after_ speak.-- . severed.-- . _the_ erle of arran thus being _established in_ the _governement_.-- . _exalted him_ to be governour, _out of what danger he had delivered him_, he being in the bloody scroll, as wee saw before; _and what expectation all men of honesty had of him_, because they saw him a soft man, they conceited goodnesse of him. , l. . _drouned_--devoured. , l. . _scriptures in the_ vulgar _tongue_.-- . _als_, (_omitted_.)-- . _the kirk_--the church, he means the prelats, _first_.-- . _thei three_--but the three, viz., hebrew, greek, and latine. , l. . _people used not_--people used the psalmes.-- . _old boses_--old bishops. , l. . _had of the_ old and new.-- , . _thair awin_ vulgar _toung_, _and so war_.-- . _in the_ vulgar _toung_.-- . (_in the margin_,) note the hypocrisie of worldlings. , l. . _to maik courte_, and curry favour _thairby_.-- . (_in the margin_,) nothing could be said against the lawfulnes of edward's birth. katharine of spain and anne bullen being dead before his mother was married to his father. , l. . _ensew to_ this _realme_.-- . _maister_ radulph _saidlair_. , l. . _contract of marriage_ made _betuix_.-- . _abaide suyre at_--abode fast to. , l. . _abbot of paislay_, called now of late john hamilton, _bastard brother_, &c.--(_in the margin there is added_,) he was before sometimes called cunningham, sometimes colwan, so uncertaine was it who was his father.-- . _one_ or the other would go to _the pulpit_. , l. . _then_ to have been so used-- . _deprehended_--followed.-- . _his_ counterfeit _godlynes_.-- . _heirefter_--heirof.-- . _any joyt_--one jote.-- . _his rycht_--his pretended right.-- . _for by goddis word_ could not be good the divorcement of his father from elizabeth hume, sister to the lord hume, his lawfull wife, and consequently his marriage with beton, neece to james beton, bishop of st. andrews, (elizabeth hume being alive,) must be null, and he declared bastard. _caiaphas spake_, &c. , (_to this marginal note is added_,) renouncing his religion in the gray friers. , l. . _governour_; first, because he himselfe was borne by beton, his father's lawfull wife, elizabeth humes being yit alive; next, because his grandfather was borne by mary stuart to james hammilton, when her lawfull husband thomas boyd was yet alive. so the earle of lennox did not only pretend to be lawfully next to the crowne, as the late king james the fifth did often declare, that if he died without heire male, he would settle the crowne upon him, but also lawfull heire of the earledome of arran, as being descended from margaret hamilton, borne to mary stuart and james hammilton after the death of thomas boyd, her former husband, (now by this time the inconstant earle of arran had given himselfe wholly to the cardinall.) _the cardinall_, &c.--(_in the margin_,) all this was then said by the cardinal. _penes authorem fides esto._ , l. . _ayre_--ayre, campbell.-- . _to leyth_--to light.-- . _the sonare_--in time. , l. . _that he wold_ take.-- . _wold not_ grant.-- . _communicat_--communed. , l. , . _the magdelane day_--saint magdalen's day.-- . _gray tacking_--gray took. , l. . _had his fortificatioun_--had fortification.-- . _so much attend_--so attend.-- , . _play_ the good servant unto him, was reputed his enemy.-- . _thei war_ no more then .--(_in the margin_,) as they went to dundee, they said they were going to burn the readers of the new testament, and that they would stick to the old, for luther, said they, had made the new. , l. . _to have_ kept.--( . prevented, _i.e._ anticipated.)-- . _thare_ friend.-- . _was_ sent to the bischop of saint andrews, the abbot of paisley.-- . _war_ on the place. , l. . _ane certane_ number.-- . _whether to_--whereto.-- . _his craft_ perswaded. , l. . _ower the craig_--over the wall.-- . _broke his craig_--broken his owne neck. , l. . _thei_--the ships. , l. . _other then_--after the castle. , l. . _feallis war_--files war charged to be. , l. , . _hary_, sometime husband to our queen and mistresse.-- . _eme's wyiff_--enemies _wife_.-- . _in propertie_--in povertie. , l. . _he hes had_ since, and that _in common_. , l. . _hornyng_--burning.-- . _with him_--with them. , l. , and , l. . _in anno_ , (_inserted in the text thus_,) that now liveth in the year of our lord . , l. . _porte_ or gate. , l. . _intreat_ of.-- . _neyther eak_--neither maid.-- . _thame as_ he could; being _such_.-- . _wold have_ used. , l. . _whingar_--dagger.-- , . _may feare_, in time to come, we will.-- . _another_--another place. , l. , . _sound_ of prayers.-- . _prevented_--came before.-- , . _grones; yea, we heard your bitter_--(_omitted_.) , l. . _awfull_--irefull.-- . _hypocrisie_ within this realme; ye shall. , l. . _verray countenance_--weary countenance. , l. . _declared_ fully. the spirit of truth. , l. , , and . _and so_ the said john knox, _albeit_, &c., (_the intermediate words being omitted_.) , l. . _premisses_--promise.-- . _the larde_--johan cockburne, laird. , l. . _transported to edinburgh_, where the cardinall then had a convention of prelats, wherein somewhat was said of redressing the abuses of the church, and reforming the lives of the clergie; but it took no effect. m. wischarde remained but few dayes in edinburgh: _for that bloody wolfe the cardinall_, ever thirsting after the blood _of the servand of god_.-- . _to be crucified._ the cardinall, seeing it was forbidden by the canon law to priests to sit as judges upon life and death, although the crime were heresie, sent to the governour, desiring him to name some lay-judge to pronounce sentence against m. wischarde. the governour had freely condescended to the cardinall's request, without delay, if david hamilton of preston, a godly and wise man, had not remonstrated unto him, that he could expect no better end then saul, since he persecuted the saints of god, for that truth which he professed once with such a shew of earnestnesse; the profession thereof being the only cause of his advancement to that high degree wherein he was: the governour, moved at this speech of david hamilton's, answered the cardinall, that he would not meddle with the blood of that good man; and told him, that his blood should be on him, for he himselfe would be free of it. at this the cardinall was angry, and said he would proceed, and that he had sent to the governour of meere civility, without any need. and so.-- . _penult_,--the seven and twentieth day. , l. , _have receaved_ from certaine records, which we relate truely, as neere as possibly we can. _upon the last._ , l. . _as saith paule_ to timothy.-- . _be able_ with wholsome learning, and to impugne.-- . _the gospell_ he treated of appeareth not to repugne.-- . _lawder_, a priest. , l. . _full of_ outrages, threatnings. , l. . _my lords_, it is not so by your pleasures. , l. . _i vanquest him_--i witnessed to him. , l. . _and spitted_ on the ground.-- . _layman_--man. , l. . _our generall_ or provinciall counsells. , l. . _innocent_ man speak.-- . _two_ feinds, two gray friers.-- - . _came to him with all diligence._ and conferred with him a pretty while, at last, burst forth in tears, but so soon as he was able to speak, he asked him, if he would receive the communion? master wischarde answered, he would most willingly, if he could have it according to christ's institution, under both kinds. the sub-prior went to the cardinall and his prelats, he told them, that master wischarde was an innocent man; which he said, not to intercede for his life, but to make known the innocency of the man unto all men, as it was known to god. at these words the cardinall was angry, and said to the sub-prior, long agoe we knew what you were. then the sub-prior demanded, whether they would suffer m. wischarde to receive the communion or not? they answered, no. a while after m. wischarde had ended with the sub-prior, the captaine of the castle, with some other friends, came to him, and asked him, if he would break fast with them? he answered, most willingly, for i know you to be most honest and godly men; so all being ready, he desired them to sit downe, and heare him a while with patience. then he discoursed to them about halfe an houre concerning the lord's supper, his sufferings and death for us. he exhorteth them to love one another, laying aside all rancor, envie, and vengeance, as perfect members of christ, who intercedes continually for us to god the father. after this, he gave thanks, and blessing the bread and wine, he took the bread and brake it, and gave to every one of it, bidding each of them, remember that christ had died for them, and feed on it spiritually; so taking the cup, he bade them, remember that christ's blood was shed for them, &c.; and after, he gave thanks and prayed for them. when he had done, he told them, that he would neither eat nor drink more in this life; and so retired to his chamber. immediately after came to him (sent from the cardinall) two executioners; one brought him a coat of linnen died black, and put it upon him; the other brought some bags full of powder, which they tied to severall parts of his body. then having dressed him, they brought him to an outer roome, neere to the gate of the castle. then the fire was made ready, and the stake at the west port of the castle, neere to the priory. over against the place of execution, the castle windows were hung with rich hangings, and velvet cushions, laid for the cardinall and prelats, who from thence did feed their eyes with the torments of this innocent man. _the cardinal dreading._ , l. . _and led_--and with sound of trumpet led.-- . _tempt me not_, i intreat you. _after this._-- . _words: i beseik you_--words, having obtained leave to speak a little, i beseech you. , l. . _then_ the executioner, _that was his tormentor_.-- . _and then by and by_ the trumpet sounding, he was tyed to the stake, and the fire kindled. the captaine of the castle, for the love he bore to m. wischarde, drew so neer to the fire, that the flame thereof did him harme; he wished m. wischarde to be of good courage, and to beg from god the forgivenesse of his sins; to whom m. wischarde answered thus: this fire torments my body, bot no wayes abates my spirit. then m. wischarde, looking towards the cardinall, said, he who in such state, from that high place, feedeth his eyes with my torments, within few dayes shall be hanged out at the same window, to be seen with as much ignominy, as he now leaneth there in pride. then with this, the executioner drawing the cord, stopt his breath; presently after, the fire being great, he was consumed to powder. the prelats would not suffer any prayers to be made for him, according to their custome. after the death of master wischarde, the cardinall was cryed up by his flatterers, and all the rabble of the corrupt clergie, as the onely defender of the catholike church, and punisher of hereticks, neglecting the authority of the sluggish governour: and it was said by them, that if the great prelates of latter dayes, both at home and abroad, had been so stout and zealous of the credit of the catholike church, they had not onely suppressed all hereticks, but also kept under the lay-men, who were so forward and stubborne. on the other side, _when that the people beheld the great tormenting of that innocent, they could not withhold from piteous mourning and complaining of the innocent lamb's slaughter_. _after the death_, &c. , l. . _or_ else it _should cost life for life_; and that in a short time they should be like hogs kept for slaughter, by this vitious priest, and wicked monster, which neither minded god, nor cared for men. amongst those that spake against the cardinall's cruelty, _john leslie, brother to the earle of rothes, was chief_, with his cozen norman lesley, who had been a great follower of the cardinall, and very active for him but a little before, fell so foule with him, that they came to high reproaches one with another. the occasion of their falling out was a private businesse, wherein norman lesley said he was wronged by the cardinall. on the other side, the cardinall said he was not with respect used by norman lesley his inferiour. the said john lesley, _in all companies, spared not to say_, that that same dagger, (shewing forth his dagger,) and that same hand, should be put in the cardinall's brest. _these brutes came_, &c.-- . _and promessed amitie with him_, and so he gave his bastard eldest daughter in marriage to the earle of crawford his eldest son and heir, and caused the wedding to be celebrate with such state, as if she had been a princes lawfull daughter. _he only feared_, &c. , l. . _not only_ say.-- . _fead_--fooles.-- . _mary that now mischevouslie regnes_--mary that now, , raignes.-- . _but by his secreat counsall_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _in no great number_--in great number. , (_in the margin_,) the fact and words of james melvin. , l. . _fowseis syde_--house side-- , . _how miserably lay david betoun, cairfull cardinall_, (_these words are omitted_.) , l. . _the death of this aforesaid tyrant_, as it was pleasing to some, to wit, to those who had received the reformation of religion, for they were mightily afraid of him, and also to sundry romanists whom he kept under as slaves; so on the other side, it _was dolorous to the priests_. , l. . _besieged._ divers gentlemen of fife went into the castle, and abode there with the leslies during the first siege; and john rough was preacher to them.-- . _and for his_ riches _he would not_. , l. . _the hole seige_, having left the castle, because he could do little good upon those that were with him; so addicted were they to their evil wayes, _begane to preach in_ the city of s. andrews. , l. . _any man_, namely, in the time of need, as that was. , l. . _kynd of doctrine_--wind of doctrine. , l. . _whither may we do the same in matters of religion?_ (_omitted_.) , l. . _that god hes_ ordained. , l. . _for upoun the_ nine and twentieth _day_.-- . _with a_ great army.-- . _in that_ haven before. , l. . _the seige by_ sea and land was laid about the castle of s. andrews, the three and twentieth day of july.-- . _brunt_; and some upon the street that leads to the castle.-- . _ground of the_ court of the castle.-- . _corrupt lyef_, having fallen into all kinde of licentiousnesse, puft up with pride of their successe, and relying upon england for help in case of need, _could not escape_. , l. . _upone the_ nine and twentieth of july.-- . _xiiij_--thirteen cannons.-- . _place._ betwixt ten of the clock and eleven, there fell. , l. . _men without god_, (omitted.)-- . _gallayis_, among others john knox was in the galleys all the winter. , l. . _schooting longis_--shooting amongst.-- . _began to reyll_--begin to faile. , l. . _forfaulted_--sore assaulted. , l. . _ordour of the cokill_, and a pension of , lib. turn. _with a full discharge_. , l. . _hir finall destruction_--her own ruine.-- . _lett men patientlie abyd_ god's appointed tyme, and turn unto him with hearty repentance, then god will surely stop the fire that now comes from her, by sudden changing her heart to deal favourably with his people; or else by taking her away, or by stopping her to go on in her course by such meanes as he shall think meet in his wisdom, for he having all in his hand disposeth of all, and doth with all according to his own will, unto which we must not onley yeald, but also be heardily pleased with it, since it is absolutely good, and both by sacred and prophane history we ar taught to do so; for in them we finde that princes have been raised up by his hands to punish his people; but when they turned unto him with hearty repentance, he either turned the heart of the prince to deal kindly with his people; or else did take him away; or at least did stop his violent course against his people. of this the examples are so frequent, that we spare to name them heere. _but to returne to our historie._ , l. . _a godly man_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _in the saidis chappell_, &c.--in the sands, chappell, &c. , l. . _of a justifeid man: but how it is suppressed, we know nott_--of a man justified, which is extant to this day.--(_in the margin_,) with a smudge?] note: this booke was printed , at edinburgh, by tho. utrover: (_in the to edit_.) tho. voutroler. , l. . _meanes as_ they looked for. , l. . _discrive_--discover. , l. . _the duck_ hamilton: (_also, at page_ , l. .) , l. . _the temporal lordis that_ maintain such abominations as we see, and flattering counsellors of state, _blasphemous_. , l. . _others besydis._ the bishops and their rable, they _begin_. , l. . _thei will_ do, or can do. , l. . _tack you yon_--take heed all you. , l. . _but few_ were made rich. , l. . _thare patentis_--their parents.-- . _displeasur, that_ idolatrous and mischievous marie.-- . _cruell persecution, used by_ queen marie of england. , l. . _as in doctrin_--as in preaching. , l. . _and_ bent themselves. , l. . _was_ published, which we have caused to be printed at the end of this book, _and is called_.-- to . _and tharefor_, &c., (_the whole of this sentence is omitted_.) , l. . _both realmes_ were disappointed _who_. , l. . instead of, _thare assembled preastis_--their asses, bloody priests, friers, &c. , l. . _thareof to this day_--thareof to his death.-- . _now erle_--after earle.-- . _thei lieved as beastis_--they left me as beasts. , l. . _to his glorie_--to your eternall glorie. , l. . _many others_--many other letters. , l. . _and geve attendance to us, your_--and to have care to use. , l. . _together ... answer_, (_omitted_.)-- . _hes allanerlie_--has modestlie _absteaned_. , l. . _this pastor_, or rather impostour.-- . _his eme's wyff_--his cousin's wife. , l. . _what that_ man of the law is. , l. . _nether can_ err.-- . _synceir_, (_omitted_.)-- . _cannon_--common _law_. , l. . _cummer_--rumour. , l. . _by_ (_i.e._ beside) _us_--neer us. book second. , l. . (_in the margin_,) note. here is a solecisme in state expression, newly invented by the court parasites. , l. . (_in the margin_,) note. to call the crown-matrimoniall, is an absurd solecisme, newly then invented at court. , l. . (_in the margin_,) note. and now in these latter days it hath pleased god in his goodnesse to grant the pure and primitive discipline also unto the church of scotland.-- . _long_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _the libertie of_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _the extreme_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _to give the_ gift of exhortation by sermon. , l. . _to convein us_--to make us. , l. . _our presence_, or counsell, or petitions.-- . _mercifullie_--bountifullie.-- . _the first petition_--here beginneth the particular demands. , l. . _of the which_, without explanation, hardly can arise any profit to the hearers. , l. . _to live_ at their lust. , l. . _a large purse_, , l. _turn._ or _scots_, gathered, (_livres tournois?_)-- . _in things_ as we thought _unlawfull_. , l. . _lords_, barons, and burgesses _of this_. , l. . _in parliament_ holden at edinburgh, anno . , l. . _any other_ of the godly that list. , l. . _and it_ appeared, that after that day that malice took more violent and strong possession in hir then it did before. , l. . _quenis_ favour. , l. . _thare rebellioun_--high rebellion. , l. . _vehement_--very vehement. , l. . _to instruct_ the people. , l. . _duke_ hamilton.-- , . now cheaf, &c., (_same reading as in vautrollier's edit., quoted in note ._)-- . _best for_--best serve for. , l. . _your grace's_--your princely. , l. . _extreme necessiteis_--most great extremities.-- . _thair and oure lyves_--their owne lives. , l. . _espyed._ the tenour whereof followeth. _and._-- . _that_ ye _the nobilitie_. , l. . _is it nocht_, &c.--it is not.-- . _judged_ to be _gud treeis_. , l. . _doth_ contrary to this authority.-- , . _he is cled_--it is clothed. , l. . _war thay that first_--war there, they that first.-- . _platt of ground_--place of ground. , l. . _war erected_--were set up.-- , . _hope_ of _victorie_. , l. . _that we_ in whom _she_.-- . _ar servandis_--as servants. , l. . _gart cutt the brigis_--caused the bridges to be cut. , l. . _teringland_--tarmganart. , l. , . _cowper, ... assisted_--cowper, ... was assisted.-- . _practised with us_--made shew unto us. , l. . _truble, or_ disquiet.-- . _subscrived_, &c.-- subscribed, james hamilton, meneits dosell. , l. . _plane_--plainly see. , l. . _cast up the portis_--open the gates.-- , _beirand_--bearing, namely. , l. . _departed, as hielie_--departed, and was highly. , l. . _the_ --the six and twentieth.-- . _four_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _wald vote_--would consent.-- . _palace and the kirk_--place, and the place and the church.-- . _idollis, hid_--hid goods. , l. . _unto him_, he would _that_.-- . _irruption_--interruption.-- . _stogged_--thrust. , l. . _in the one_--in one of the colledges.-- . _was to be done, and that ordour_--was best to be done, and what order.-- . _and yit hir dochteris is_--by advice of hir counsell.-- . _hir grace_--our mother. , l. . _to affix_--to appoint.-- . _our realme_--our religion. , l. . _to suche_--that such.-- . _sche_--the queen regent.-- . _thame_selves.-- . _advertist_, that. , l. . _nothing to_ the commission, she proposed. , l. . _abused_ duke hamilton, perswading him.-- . _his_ successors of their pretended title.-- . _crymes_ were ever entred into.-- . _should leaf_--should lose.-- . _the duke's grace_--duke hamilton. , l. . _small appointment_--finall appointment.-- . _earthlie_ treasure. , l. . _outsetting_--upsetting.-- . _no mo_--no man. , l. . _substantious housholdis_--chief domesticks. , l. . _bawbie_, or fartheing.-- . _those of_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _restalrig_--lestarrig. , l. . _januar_ had decreed. , l. . _thai war_--they are.-- . _in the first_ congregation. , l. . _maner_--matter.-- . _skaithles_--harmless.-- . _thoill_--suffer. , l. . _other haveand spirituall_--other, either spiritual.-- . _religioun, or_ any other.-- . _in all_ such causes.-- . _to speak_ with. , l. . _the lordis_ protestants.-- . _unto_ the chief heads of the appointment, _whiche be these_.-- . _this_ our _proclamatioun_. , l. . _adversaries_, who trie _all maner_.-- . _and hir_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _quhat tyme_--at the time that. , l. . _baith_, (_omitted_.)--_le roy_, (_omitted_.) (_title inserted_,) the king his letter to the lord james.-- . _bein_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _father_, from the queen my wife, and from _me_.-- . _strange_ to me, and so farre _against_.-- . _gudlie_ well.-- , . _ye ar declyneit_--ye have declined.-- . _attention_--intention.-- . _thair_--your.--_thay_--ye. , l. . _vous senteras_--vous en sentires.-- . _schir_, (_omitted_.)--the lord james his letter to the king.-- . _my_ most humble _dewtie_.-- . _last_, importing.-- . _majestie_ doth.-- . _hard_--had.-- . _grevis me_ very _heavilie_. , l. . _sould_ not _have_.-- , . _as_ we were perswaded in _our_.-- . _cair_ from. , l. . _na man_ could. , l. . _benefit_ which.-- . _libertie_ of.-- . _tolbuith_--town. , l. . _nether_ yet.-- . _for schort_--for that _after_. , l. . _deambulatour_--deambulation.-- . _falt_ in.-- . _worthelie_--justlie.-- . _done_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _thair kyn_--your kin.-- . _contravene_--violate.-- . _mak_ first--give first. , l. . _lippin_--trust.-- . _to have_ good.-- . _taikin_ without.-- . _saidis_, (_omitted_.)-- . _our pairt._ but in case against all reason they should mean any such thing, we _have thocht_.-- . _furnissing_--surmising. , l. . _put_ fit _remedy_.-- . _could_--would.-- . _list_, so that some asked for.-- . _sche_ was not ashamed _to sett_.-- . _personis_ have of malice.-- . _stope all_ manner of reconciliations.-- . _estaitis_--state.-- . _ar cumit_--came.--_ar myndit_--do mind. , l. . _ony_ part thereof _contravenit_.-- . _communit_--commovit.-- . _ane_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _ever_, (_omitted_.)-- . _obedience_ of _higher_.-- . _direct_ quite.-- . _with_ reverence. , l. . _simplicitie_, and to _work your finall_.-- . _of_ our _posteritie, and_ to be short, to our _commun-wealth_.-- . _foirnameit._ this is so _manifestly_.-- . _is not to be_--is to be. , l. . _brocht it_ to such basenesse, and such a deale of strife _that all men_.-- . _guid and_ weighty _money_. , l. . _that_ wicked _man_.-- . _quha at_ that tyme.-- . _reassonit_ with all _in the_. , l. . _thairin_, not only _without_.-- . _the houssis garnissit_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _yea_, even of our brethren. , l. . _covetousnes of the_ cardinall of guyse and the hamiltons. _amen._ , l. . _trubill any_ unjust _possession_. , l. . _over_ our _heads_.-- . _tred_--course. , l. . _personis ... be god_, move princes to _command_.-- . _of_ misled _princes_.-- . _thair_ misled _princes_.-- . _crewell_ misled princes, who authorize the _murtherar_. , l. . _murther_, and such like: _esaias_.-- . _appelyteis of_ misled _princeis_. , l. . _my lord dukis grace_--the duke. , l. - . _hienes, quham ... god_, expecting earnestly your answer. , l. . _experimentit_--dear. , l. . _lawlie_ to our.-- . _of the_ same: and that ye would _rather_. , l. . _onlie_ to shew. , l. . _to_ this _commun-wealth_.-- . _a_ plain _declaratioun_. , l. . _pleis your grace_--madame.-- , . _sall_ treat or deal _for himself_. , l. . _ye_ knew fully, and all men else.-- , . the queen's proclamation. , l. . _thing not of lait_--thing of lait. , l. . _as in_ deed _it is_.-- . _haid_ inche, colme, _dumbar_.-- . _maid_; yet all these _could_.-- . _the trewth_, (_omitted_.)-- . _seiking_ constantly _to possesse_ the _libertie_ of leith, which _be donation of_ ancient _kingis thay have long_ enjoyed. , l. . _to wit_--is.-- . _mentenance_--mantainers. , l. , . _to this day_, (_omitted_.)-- . _write to_ the praise of _goddis_.-- . _honour_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _our_, (_omitted_.)-- . _be of_ such _reputatioun_. , l. . _quhan_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _support_--our _support_. , l. . _presentt_ day, _that_.--_maist_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _onlie_--openlie.-- . _deceat, that_ to _lift thair weaponis against thair brethren_.-- . _glorie_, or _yet_. , l. . _thame_, so they did answer unto her, _as by_. , l. . _moist_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _self and_ those that followeth you. _and that._ , l. . _it will ... remembrance_--your majestie may call to minde, _how at_. , l. . _we will_ (as befoir) move _and declair_.-- . _humbill_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _maid_ by these about _the quene_.-- . _never anis_ hath made any shew of any such thing, _bott_ only _in_.-- . _poore_ commonalty.-- . _lady_: which accusation hath continued ever against him, as guilty of that crime; he therefore now openly _and plainlie_ protesteth. ---- (_opposite to line , the first marginal note begins_,) now the duke seeing the queen's partie decline, and the protestant party grow strong, he once more changeth the profession of his religion, and joyneth with the protestants, as strongest.--(_and at line ,_) how true this is, the constant course of the family can tell. , l. . _your_--our.--(_marginal note_,) _let this bee noted, and let all men judge of the purpose of the frenche_, and how good and wise patriots they were, who sold our soveraign to france for their private profit, and they by name were the hamiltons. , l. . _so_ tyranically to domineer over them. , l. . _called and_, (_omitted_.)-- . _that_ it _is_.-- . _never so_ firmly establish any, but at his pleasure, he seeing just cause, might deprive them.-- . _used_--useth second _means_. , l. . _idolatrie_, as also she openly declares the countrie to be conquest, and no more free. _and finallie_.-- . (_marginal note_,) _in the disposition_--in the deposition.-- , . _and_ disorder.-- . _our_ soveraigne.-- . _awin_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _uttermost_ ruine, _so that_.-- . _for that_--only because.-- . _lauchfull_, (_omitted_.)-- . _of sanct johnestoun_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _in this_ last _moneth_.-- . _in_ other _townes_.-- . _soverane lord_ deceased without heirs of her _persone_.-- . _our_ whole _cuntree_.--_causes_--caused ... to coine lead-_money_. , l. . _and attour, her grace places_--again, she so placeth. , l. . _be his_--by this.-- . _remissionis_, conform _to the practise_. , l. . _fearing_ lest _the_. , l. . _pleise your grace_--madame. , l. . _lord and_ lady their _true_.-- . _for_ worthy _reasons_.-- . _sute_--follow.-- , . _maid_ oft before. again we desire you _cause_. , l. . _xxiii of october_-- of october.-- . _that thei_, (_omitted_.)-- . _sa lang as_ they use us as friends, and not strive _to make_. , l. . _name_, requiring thame.-- . _the ungodlie soldiouris_, in hatred of goodnesse and good men, continuing in their disorder, mocke _the laird_.-- . _shall_ make them know me. , l. . _without_ delay. , l. . the captain of _the castle_.-- . _desyred_, (_omitted_.)-- . _back, the_ carriage of money _was dejected_. , l. . _betimes_ in the morning for keeping. , l. , , l. . _so that in no wise we could charge thame_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _after_ our departure. , l. . _before lurked_--there lurked. , l. . _alas if i might see_ another defie given: _give advertisement_. , l. . _continewalie_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _altogitther_, (_omitted_.) , l. . _i_ speak _more generallie then_ the present _necessity_ requireth: _for_. , l. . _thair_ own _formar offences_. , l. . _himself_, i _speik_. , l. and . _uncertane_--certaine.-- . _when_ their blinde fury _pursued us_.--l. . (_in the margin_,) let the house of hamilton remember this. , l. . _thair_ home and _quiet_.-- . with this we end _the second book of the history_, &c. the end of the second book. no. ii. the lollards in scotland during the fifteenth century. in tracing the history of the reformation, we must always revert to a much earlier period than that of luther. the chief witnesses against the corrupt ceremonies and discipline of the church of rome belonged to two distinct sects, but entertaining nearly the same sentiments--the albigenses, who were chiefly settled about toulouse and albigeois, in languedoc; and the valdenses, who inhabited the mountainous tract of country, (known as the cottian alps,) in the provinces of dauphine and provence, in the south of france, and in piedmont, in the north of italy. both sects may be considered as descendants of the primitive christians, and the long series of persecutions which they endured, may have conduced to spread their opinions in other lands, and to keep alive a spirit of religious inquiry and freedom. the great english reformer john wykliffe, died in the year . the persecutions which arose after his death, drove many of his adherents into exile, and brought some of them to the western parts of scotland, who, having settled in ayrshire, obtained the name of the lollards of kyle. any notices respecting them that have been preserved are unfortunately very scanty, but should not be overlooked in a work like the present. andrew of wyntoun, prior of lochlevin, the author of a metrical chronicle, written about the year , when recording the appointment of robert duke of albany as governor of scotland, in the year , commends him for his opposition to lollards and heretics:-- "he was a constant catholike, all lollard he hatyt, and hereticke."--(vol. ii. p. .) it was during his administration, that the first martyr of the reformed religion was committed to the flames at perth, for alleged heresy, in the year or . this was eight or nine years previously to the death of john huss, that "generous and intrepid martyr and confessor of christ," as luther justly calls him. walter bower, the continuator of fordun, is probably the only original historian who has preserved an account of resby, of which the following is an extract:-- "lib. xv. cap. xx. de combustione jacobi resby hÆretici apud perth. "eodem anno [mccccvi] die combustus est jacobus resby, presbyter anglicus de schola johannis wykliff, hæreticus condemnatus in concilio cleri sub magistro laurentio de lundoris, inquisitore hæreticæ pravitatis, solidissimo clerico et famoso theologo, vitæ sanctitate quamplurimum collaudato. qui quidem jacobus, quamvis interdum celeberrimus reputabatur simplicibus prædicatione, periculosissimas tamen conclusiones intersperserat in sua dogmatizatione. quarum prima fuit, quod papa de facto non est christi vicarius. secunda, nullus est papa, nec christi vicarius, nisi sit sanctus. de consimilibus, vel pejoribus, tenuit quadraginta conclusiones. cujus tam scripta quam auctorem inquisitor confutavit, et ad ignem applicavit et incineravit. hujusmodi errores excerpti sunt de hæresibus dicti johannis wykliff hæresiarchæ, damnati londoniis in anglia, anno domini mccclxxx, per primatem angliæ, et tredecim episcopos, ae magistros in sacra theologia triginta, ex dialogo, trialogo, et aliis suis libris. conclusiones et libelli istius hæretici adhuc a nonnullis lolardis habentur in scotia, et curiose servantur, ex instinctu diaboli, per tales quibus aquæ furtivæ dulciores sunt, et panis absconditus suavior."--(vol. i. p. .) the several abbreviates of the scotichronicon notice resby's fate. law's ms. places it in ; but the larger "extracta ex cronicis scocie," gives the year , nor omits the circumstance "de talibus et pejoribus xl. conclusiuncs; _cujus liber adhuc restant curiose servantur per lolardos in scocie_." among later writers who mention resby, spotiswood says, "john wickliffe in england, john hus and jerome of prague in bohemia, did openly preach against the tyranny of the pope, and the abuses introduced in the church; and in this countrey, one called joannes [james] resby an englishman, and _de schola_ wickliffi, as the story speaketh, was brought in question for some points of doctrine which he taught, and condemned to the fire. he was charged by master laurence lendores with heretical opinions; whereof we have two only mentioned; one, that the pope was not christ's vicar; the other, that he was not to be esteemed pope, if he was a man of wicked life. for maintaining these two points, he suffered in the year ."--(history of the church, p. .) this date is also given in the breve cronicon, (apud registrum glasguense, p. .) "combustio jacobi henrici [resby] apud perth, a.d. ." the prevalence of such opinions is still more evident from the oath which masters of arts were required to take, in the newly founded university of st. andrews; it being enacted at a congregation, held on the th of june , that all who commenced masters of arts should swear, among other things, that they would resist all adherents of the sect of lollards. "item, jurabitis quod ecclesiam defendetis contra insultum lollardorum, et quibuscunque eorum secte adherentibus pro posse vestro resistetis."--(ms. records of the university, quoted by dr. m'crie, life of melville, vol. i. p. .) knox commences his history with referring to some person whose name did not appear in the scrollis or registers of glasgow, who suffered in that city in the year . david buchanan and petrie have rather hastily concluded that resby was the person referred to, overlooking both the difference of time and the place of his execution. another proof of the increase of the lollards in scotland, is furnished by an act in the parliament of king james the first, held at perth, on the th march - , soon after his return from his long captivity in england:-- "of heretickis and lollardis. "item, anentis heretikis and lollardis, that ilk bischop sall ger inquyr be the inquisicione of heresy, quhar ony sik beis fundyne, ande at thai be punyst as lawe of haly kirk requiris: ande, gif it misteris, that secular power be callyt tharto in suppowale and helping of haly kirk."--(acta parl. scotiæ, vol. ii. p. .) the prevalence of reformed opinions is also clear from the appointment of a dignified churchman as heretical inquisitor. such an office would obviously never have been contemplated, unless for the wide spread of what was deemed to be heresy. laurence of lindores, abbot of scone, in , was the first professor of law in the newly erected university of st. andrews, and he is described as "solidissimus clericus et famosus theologus, vitæ sanctitate quamplurimum collaudatus." but the title of haereticÆ pravitatis inquisitor, formed his highest distinction; and he is said to have given no peace or rest to heretics or lollards. whether laurence of lindores resigned his situation as abbot on obtaining other preferment, is uncertain. in july , when elected dean of the faculty of arts, at st. andrews, he is styled rector of creich, master of arts, licentiate in theology, inquisitor for the kingdom of scotland, &c. this office of dean he held till his death, when (post mortem felicis memoriæ magistri laurencii de lundoris,) mr. george newton, provost of the collegiate church of bothwell, was elected his successor, th september .--(registers of the university.) lindores is said to have written "examen hæreticorum lolardorum, quos toto regno exegit." the next martyr was paul craw or crawar, a native of bohemia, by old scotish writers called beum. as knox seems to have had before him the brief notice contained in the first edition of foxe's "actes and monuments," the passage from that edition may here be quoted:-- "¶ paule craws a bohemian. "the same yere [ ] also was paul craws a bohemian taken at s. andrews by the bishop henry, and delivered over to the seculer power to be burnt, for holdyng contrary opinions vnto the church of rome, touching the sacrament of the lords supper, the worshipping of sainctes, auriculer confessyon, with other of wycleffes opinions."--(foxe, p. , first edit., , folio.) the earlier notices given of this martyr by bower the continuator of fordun, and hector boece, may also be quoted, the latter in the words of his translator john bellenden, archdean of murray, in the reign of james the fifth. it will be observed that bower mentions laurence of lindores as inquisitor, whereas boece says it was john fogo, his successor in that office, who acted on this occasion, which some authorities place in , others in , or in the following year. "de combustione pauli crawar arch-hÆretici, et de lolardis. "anno sequenti [mccccxxxiii] accusatus est paulus crawar teutonicus, xxiij. die mensis julij, apud sanctum andream, et hæreticus obstinatus repertus, convictus est et condemnatus, et ad ignem applicatus et incineratus. hic, ut dicitur, missus fuit ab hæreticis pragensibus de bohemia, qui tune in maleficiis nimium prævalebant, ad inficiendum regnum scotorum, recommissus per ipsorum literas, tanquam præcellens arte medicine. hic in sacris literis et in allegatione bibliæ promptus et exercitatus inveniebatur; sed ad insipientiam sibi, omnes quasi illos articulos erroneos pragenses et wiklivienses pertinaciter tenebat: sed per venerabilem virum magistrum laurentium de londoris, inquisitorem hæreticæ pravitatis, qui nusquam infra regnum requiem dedit hæreticis, vel lolardis, confutatus est."--(scotichronicon, vol. ii. p. .) bower, after this extract, in the remainder of the chapter, and the two following ones, has given some account of the rise and opinions of these heretics, and the mode of confuting them; which are too long for quotation. bellenden's briefer notice is as follows:-- "nocht lang efter was tane in sanct androis ane man of beum namit paule craw, precheand new and vane superstitionis to the pepyl, specially aganis the sacrament of the alter, veneration of sanctis, and confession to be maid to priestis. at last he was brocht afore the theologis, and al his opinionis condampnit. and because he perseuerit obstinatly to the end of his pley, he was condampnit and brint. he confessit afore his death that he was send out of beum to preiche to scottis the heresyis of hus and wiccleif. the king commendit mekyl this punition, and gaif the abbacy of melros to johne fogo, for he was principall convikar of this paule."--(bellenden's cronyklis of scotland, fol. ccxlvij of orig. edition.) it is a mistake, however, to say that fogo was thus rewarded for the zeal he displayed in convicting paul crawar of heresy in . dr. john fogo was abbot of melrose in the year , when he was sent to rome on an embassy from king james the first. he was the king's confessor, and was present at the council of basil in .--(morton's monastic annals, pp. , .) sir james balfour treats him with very little ceremony:--"this zeire , (he says,) the king, at the earnist sollicitatione of the clergey, bot especially of henrey wardlaw, bishope of st. andrewes, bestowed the abbey of melrosse upone a luberdly mounke of the cisteauxe order, quho had wretten a blasphemous pamphlet against paull crau's heresy, named johne fogo."--(annals, vol. i. p. .) but it was not obscure men or strangers who were occasionally subjected to the charge of heresy. in the reign of james the third, the case of the primate of scotland is worthy of special notice. in , patrick graham, son of lord graham, and nephew of james the first, was translated from the see of brechin to st. andrews. graham proceeded to rome to obtain his confirmation, but the enmity of the boyds during their power at court occasioned him to delay for some years his return to scotland. during this period, the archbishop of york having renewed an old contested claim as metropolitan of the scotish church, graham succeeded in obtaining from pope sixtus the fourth a sentence, whereby it was declared "a thing unfitting that an english prelate should be the primate of scotland, by reason of the warres that might break forth betwixt the two kingdoms."--the king, in , calls him "consanguineo nostro carissimo;" and in the same year is styled as "conservator privilegiorum ecclesiæ scoticanæ." he is said to have returned in the year ; and both buchanan and spottiswood have given a minute and interesting account of the troubles in which he was involved. in , pope. sixtus the fourth erected the see of st. andrews into an archbishoprick, and thus graham became primate, pope's nuncio, and legatus a latere. but his zeal and innovations in reforming abuses, excited the envy and opposition both of the clergy and persons in civil authority; and darkened the latter days of his life to such a degree, that he was brought to trial, and by the pope's legate, named huseman, who came to scotland for that purpose, he was degraded from his dignities, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment, as a heretic, schismatic, &c.; and was put under the custody of william schevez, archdean of st. andrews, who was appointed his coadjutor and successor. bishop lesley (p. ,) places graham's trial in , and says, he was first imprisoned in inchcolm, then removed to dunfermling, and soon after to the castle of lochleven, where he died in . see also sir james balfour's annals, vol. i. p. . "this end (says spottiswood) had that worthy man, in virtue and learning inferior to none of his time, oppressed by the malice and calumny of his enemies, chiefly for that they feared reformation of their wicked abuses by his means." * * * * * of the lollards mentioned by knox as summoned for trial before james the fourth in , no additional information has been obtained. alexander alesius, in , takes notice of john campbell of cesnock having also been summoned and acquitted: see rev. chr. anderson's annals, vol. ii. p. ; john davidson's memoriall of two worthie christians, &c., p. , edinb. , vo; and calderwood's history, vol. i. p. . in "the praise of aige," a poem, written about that time by walter kennedy, a younger son of gilbert lord kennedy, the progenitor of the earls of cassilis, we find these lines:-- "this warld is sett for to dissaive us evin, pryde is the nett, and cuvatece is the trane; for na reward, except the joy of hevin, wald i be yung in to this warld agane. _the schip of faith, tempestuous wind and rane dryvis in the see of lollerdry that blawis_; my yowth is gane, and i am glaid and fane, honour with aige to every vertew drawis." the same author, in his flyting or poetical contest with william dunbar, among other terms of reproach, styles his antagonist "lamp lollardorum;" and also, "judas jow, juglour, lollard lawreat."--(dunbar's poems, vol. ii. pp. , , .) no. iii. patrick hamilton, abbot of ferne. in collecting some notices of this memorable person, it may be remarked, that knox has passed over his history much more briefly than likely he would have done, had he himself been at st. andrews at the time of his execution. it has been customary to give a rather exaggerated account of hamilton's birth and family connexions. bishop burnet says, "the first who suffered in this age (in scotland) was patrick hamilton, a person of very noble blood: his father was brother to the earl of arran, and his mother sister to the duke of albany: so nearly was he on both sides related to the king. he was provided of the abbey of fern in his youth; and being designed for greater preferments, he was sent to travel," &c.--(hist. of the reform., vol. i. p. .) similar terms are employed by later writers. this notion to hamilton's high descent and parentage requires to be somewhat modified. his father, sir patrick hamilton of kincavel, was an illegitimate son of james first lord hamilton, by a daughter of witherspoon of brighouse, and died in . sir patrick afterwards obtained a letter of legitimation under the great seal, th january - ; and in a charter of the settlement of the hamilton estates about the same time, by the earl of arran, he was called next in succession, (failing the earl's lawful issue,) after sir james hamilton of fynnart, who was the natural son of james second lord hamilton, created earl of arran in , and who was legitimated on the same day with sir patrick. the latter was slain in a conflict on the streets of edinburgh, th april . his wife was catharine stewart, daughter of alexander duke of albany, the second son of king james the second. she is also described as a natural daughter; the marriage of her parents having been dissolved on alleged propinquity of blood, by a sentence of divorce, pronounced d march - . it is proper however to observe, that illegitimation caused by the dissolution of such marriages, in conformity with the complicated rules of the canon law, was not considered to entail disgrace on the children, nor did it always interrupt the succession either in regard to titles or property. their children were,-- . james hamilton of kincavel, sheriff of linlithgowshire, and captain of blackness in . he was summoned on a charge of heresy in , but escaped to england. (see note .) he obtained permission to return in , and was the means of accomplishing the downfall of his cousin, sir james hamilton of fynnart, (ib. p. .) the sentence given against him by the popish clergy at holyrood house, th august , was reversed and annulled by the general assembly in june . . patrick hamilton the martyr. . katharine hamilton, who is mentioned in a letter, th march , (ib. p. , note,) as wife of the late captain of dunbar castle. the reference in that letter may have been not to her brother patrick, who was _brent_ in , but to james, who was condemned for heresy in . the word _brent_ therefore might be read _banished_. patrick hamilton was born about the year . being intended for the church, he no doubt received a liberal education, and the influence of his family connexions was sure to obtain for him high preferment. the time when he was promoted to the abbacy of ferne, in the county of ross, is nowhere stated, except in the vague, general terms, "in his youth." it is however quite certain that ferne was held, along with the abbacy of kelso _in commendam_, by andrew stewart, bishop of caithness, who died in . sir robert gordon, in his genealogy of the earls of sutherland, (p. ,) says, that on "the th day of june yeirs, andrew stuart, bishop of catheneys, commendator of the abbayes of kelso and ferne, died at his castle of skibo," &c. (p. .) a manuscript calendar of ferne, which may be held as the best authority, places the bishop's death in . but although this benefice was conferred on patrick hamilton, there is no evidence to show that he was ever in priest's orders, as he necessarily, at the time of this condemnation, would have been degraded, or deprived of such orders. he appears however to have prosecuted his studies at st. andrews, and to have taken his master's degree, according to the following entry in the registers of that university:-- "congreg. tenta, oct. . mag^r. patricius hamilton abbas de ferne rossen. dioc. in facultatem est receptus." it was probably in the following year that hamilton went abroad, in the farther prosecution of his studies, visiting wittenberg and marburg, and becoming acquainted with luther, melancthon, and francis lambert. from the sentence pronounced by the archbishop and his assistants, it is evident that before hamilton's visit to the continent he had been suspected of cherishing heretical opinions. at the university of marburg, he publicly set forth certain conclusions or theses for disputation, on the subject of faith and good works. his theses may have been printed at the time: they have been preserved, in the english translation, by john fryth, of which there are several editions, sometimes under the title of 'patrick's places,' and are also inserted in knox's history, and in foxe's book of martyrs. hamilton returned to scotland in , impelled by a zeal to impart to his countrymen the knowledge of the truth which he had acquired: the result of which is well known; having been apprehended and taken prisoner to the castle of st. andrews, tried by archbishop beaton, and condemned for heresy, and suffering at the stake on the last of february - . * * * * * some extracts from contemporary writers, relating to patrick hamilton, may here be quoted. the first extract is taken from the dedication of lambert's work, which has been oftener mentioned than examined in recent times. it was first published in the year ; but the following extract is from an edition bearing the following title, "exegeseos francisci lamberti avenionensis, in sanctam divi ioannis apocalypsim, libri vii. basileae per nicolaum brylingerum. anno m.d.xxxix." vo. it occurs in the dedication to "the illustrious prince philip, landgrave of hesse." unfortunately it does not give the date.-- "habuisti anno supeiriore in tua nova academia marpurgensi ex scotia unum, qui vere suam in dei ecclesiam attulit gloriam, patricius hammilton, ex illustrissima hammiltonum familia, quæ ex summis regni scotiæ; ae regi, sanguine proximius junctis, est. ls cum esset annorum circiter trium et viginti, eruditionisque non vulgaris, et in dei sermonibus, iudicij, et certissimi et solidissimi, ab illo mundi angulo, nempe scotia, venit ad tuam academiam, ut abundantius in dei veritate confirmaretur, de quo veruntamen testor, me vix alium repperisse, qui de eloquiis dei, spiritualius, ac syncerius loqueretur. sæpe enim mecum de cisdem contulit. præterea et is primus fuit, qui post erectam a tua sublimitate academiam, in eadem christianissima aliquot axiomata palam et doctissime, me hoc illi consulente, asseruit. ubi autem robustior in pietatis doctrina factus est, assumpto uno ex tribus quos secum huc veniens duxerat, rediit in scotiam, et palam christum docuit, factus scotorum primus et idem inclytus, +apostolos+. mox principes sacerdotum cum satrapis suis, apud sancti andreæ urbem convenerunt in unum, adversus dominum, et christum, illiusque apostolum patritium, et ilium quantumvis sanguine clarum, et (ut puto) rege adhue puero, ab eis seducto (neque enim metu cognatorum eius quidquam alioqui ausi fuissent in cum) vocarunt in concilium suum, in calen. martias, huins anni. at ille in christi confessione ardens totus tempus ipsum prævenit, et pridie cal[=e]. martij mane, illis pinguibus samariæ vaccis adfuit, et ab illis velut a judæis christus, damnatus mox, et morti adjudicatus est, atque a prandio ipsiusmet dici combustus, et factus deo in hostiam sanctam, et vivam. is vere allulit in dei ecclesiam non solum gloriam suam, sed et vitam. hune veluti suavissimum florem, maturumque fructum, ab ipso initio protulit, noua et foelix illa academia tua. non es fraudatus desiderio tuo. idcirco enim maxime illam erexisti, quod cuperes ut intrepidi christi confessores, et constantes veritatis assertores ex ea prodirent. ecce jam unum habes, et eundem quidem inclytum multis nominibus, alij, cum domino visum fuerit, sequentur." in a work still less known, and indeed of which only one solitary copy is known to be preserved, we find an interesting allusion to hamilton. the author, john gau or gaw, will afterwards be noticed among the protestant exiles, appendix, no. vi. the volume has this title within an ornamented border:-- "the richt bay to the kingdome of hevine is techit heir in the x commandis of god / and in the creid / and pater noster / in the quhilk al chrissine man sal find al thing yat is neidful and requirit to onderstand to the saluation of the saul." (colophon,) "prentit in malmw / be me jhone rochstraten the xvi day of october / anno m.d.xxxiii." the allusion to hamilton's fate occurs in "ane epistil to the nobil lordis and baronis of scotland," in which the author complains of "the blynd giders and pastors quhilk sekis bot the mylk and wow of the scheip, quhilk alsua thinkkis na scheyme to cal thayme selff vicars of christ and successours of the apostlis," and says, "the thrid and principal causs (viz. of the want of religious instruction) is the sekkis n. and n. quhilk ar rissine laitlie in the kirk and prechis dremis and fablis and the tradicions of men, and notht the vangel, and giff ony amangis thayme wald prech it and notht thair tradicions thay ar haldine for heritikis, as ye knaw be experience of patrik hammiltone quhom thay pat crewellie to the deid bot now he liffis with christ quhom he confessit befor the princis of this vardil, bot the voce of his blwid cryis yeit with the bluid of abel to the hewine." * * * * * the next extracts are from foxe's martyrology; and it may be proper to be more particular in describing the early editions of that well known work, as knox's reference to it, at one period, was held to be a proof that the history of the reformation was not composed by him. during foxe's exile, he published at strasburgh a small latin work, entitled "commentarii rerum in ecclesia gestarum, maxi-marumque, per totam europam persecutionum, a vuicleui temporibus ad hanc vsque ætat[=e] descriptio. liber primus. autore ioanne foxo anglo. argentorati, exc. vuendelinus rihelius, anno m.d.liiii." small vo. dedicated to christopher duke of wurtemberg. five years later, at basil, he published a large folio, also under the title of "rerum in ecclesia gestarum, &c., commentarii," dedicated to thomas duke of norfolk, from basil, st sept. . in this work, at pages - , is a short account of patrick hamilton, with a reference to francis lambert's work on the apocalypse. but it is to foxe's great english work, in , that knox refers, and as the first book of his history was not written until , no anachronism can be discovered in such a reference. the succession of queen elizabeth to the english throne, evidently suggested the propriety of putting upon record a detailed history of the fearful sufferings and persecutions which had been endured. the first edition bears the following title:-- "actes and monuments of these latter and perillous dayes, touching matters of the church, wherein ar comprehended and described the great persecutions & horrible troubles, that have bene wrought and practised by the romishe prelates, speciallye in this realme of england and scotlande, from the yeare of our lorde a thousande, unto the tyme nowe present. gathered and collected according to the _true copies & wrytinges certificatorie, as wel of the parties themselves that suffered, as also out of the bishops registers, which wer the doers thereof, by_ iohn foxe. ¶ imprinted at london by iohn day, _dwellyng ouer aldersgate_. cum priuilegio regiæ maiestatis." this edition has no date; but the "kalender" and "almanacke for yeares," commencing in , shows that it was printed in that year, although not actually published till . the following is a literal copy of the account of hamilton's trial and execution contained in this rare edition:-- "[illustration: hand pointing right] patrike hamelton a skot. "like as there was no place, neyther of germanye, italye, or fraunce, wherin there was not some impes or braunches spr[=o]ge out of that mooste frutefull rote and foundation of luther. so likewise was not this ile of brittaine without his frute and braunches: amongst whom patricke hamelton a skottishman borne, being a yong man of an excellent nature and towardnes, but muche more commendable and praise worthye, for that he was of the kynges bloud and family, being the most ancient and noble stocke and name in all scotlande. the tender florishing age of this noble yonge man made his deathe so muche the more horrible, which of it selfe was but to muche cruell and detestable, for that skarse xxiii. yeres old, wh[=e] he was burned by dauid beton cardinall of saint andrewes, and his fellow byshoppes. which yong manne if he had chosen to leade his life, after the manner of other courtiers in all kinde of licentious riotousnes, he should peradventure haue found praise without pearill or punishment in that his florishinge age: but for so much as he joyned godlinesse wyth his stock, and vertue with his age, he coulde by no meanes escape the hands of the wicked. so that in all thinges and in al ages, the saying of s. paule is verified. whosoeuer dooth desire and studye to liue godlye in christe, he shall suffer persecution as a companion of his godlinesse. "for there is nothinge safe or sure in thys world, but wickednesse and synne. who euer sawe the cardinals or bishoppes rage wyth their cruell inquisitions, againste aduoutrye, riot, ambition, unlawfull gaming, dronkennesse, rapines, and wilfulnesse to doo all kinde of mischeues. anye man that list for all them, maye exercise vsurye, make tumultes, haunt whores, sweare and forsweare, and deceiue at his owne will and pleasure. "but if any man were truely addict to the desire and study of godlines, confessing christ to be his only patrone and aduocate, excludynge the merites of saintes, acknowledginge fre iustification by faith in christ, denying purgatory (for these articles hamelton was burned) in these poyntes they nether spare age or kinred, nether is there any so great power in y^e world that may withstand their maiesty or autority. how great an ornament might so noble, learned and excellent a yong man haue bene vnto that realme, being endued with so great godlines, and such a singular wit and disposition, if the skots had not enuied their owne commodity? what and how great commendation there was of that yong man, what hope of his disposition, his singuler learning and doctrine, and what a maturitye and ripenese of iudgemente was in him, did appeare amongste the germains whereas he might declare him self. for in the vniuersity of marpurge, which was then newlye erect by phillip prince of hessia, he openlye proceding: handled him selfe so, intreating and iudging matters of the church, with such praise and commendation, passynge al expectation for his age, that he made not only the common people, but also the learned to haue him in great admiration. beat[=o] whych n[=o]ber, when as many delighted in his princely wit, amongest all other, it appeared firste in fraunces lambert, who in the preface dedicatory, of his work vpon the apocalips, maketh euident mention of this patricke. "at the last wh[=e] as by the vse and familiarity of learned men, he daily profited more and more, his minde being enflamed with godlinesse, he began to consider with him selfe, touching his returne into his countrye, thinkinge (as hys mind greatly desired) that it wold come to pas that like a godly marchaunt he would delyuer some frute and light of that learning, whyche he had received and gotten abrode. in this his thought and purpose, taking vnto him a companion, he returned home without any l[=o]ger delay, vpon a godly and holy purpose and entent, but not with like successe. for this ingenious yong manne beinge lightened bothe in spirite and doctrine, not susteining or suffring the filthinesse and blindnes of his co[=u]try, was first accused of heresy, and afterward constantly and stoutly disputing with the cardinal and his band, at the last he was oppressed by the c[=o]spiracy of his enemies, and efter sentence of cond[=e]nation geuen against him, the same daye after dinner he was caried to the fire & burned, the king being yet but a child; wheras by y^e most grave testimony of his bloud, he left the verity & truth of god, fixed and confirmed in y^e harts and mindes of manye." (page .) foxe survived till april , and published four successive editions of his "actes and monuments." the second edition appeared in the year , and the third in . in the passages relating to the scotish martyrs, he has furnished ample details, which are not to be found in the first edition; and for these he gives as his authority "ex scripto testimonio scotorum." his enlarged account of hamilton, from the edition, may therefore be quoted; although it contains a few repetitions. the story of m. patricke hamelton. . persecutors. iames beton, archb. of s. andrew. m. hew spens, deane of diuinitie in the vniuersitie of s. andrew. m. iohn weddell, rector of the vniuersitie. iames symson, officiall. tho. ramsay, chan[=o], and deane of the abbey of s. andrewes. allane meldrum, chanon. iolm greson, principall of the blacke friers. iohn dillidaffe, warden of the gray friers. martin balbur, lawyer. iohn spens, lawyer. alexander young, baccheler of diuinitie, chanon. frier alex. chambell, priour of the blacke friers, &c. martyrs. patricke hamelton. at st. andrewes in scotland. an. . the causes. patrike hamelton a scottish man borne, of an high and noble stock, and of the kynges bloud, yong and of flourishing age, and excellent towardnes, of . yeares called abbot of ferme first commyng out of his country with thre companions, to seeke godly learning, went to the uniuersitie of marpurge in germanye, which university was then newly erected by phillip lantgraue of hesse: where he vsing conference and familiaritie with learned men, namely m. franciscus lambertus, so profited in knowledge, and mature iudgement in matters of religion, that he through the incitation of the sayd lambert, was the first in al the vniuersitie of marpurge, which publickely dyd set vp conclusions there to be disputed of, concernyng fayth and workes: arguyng also no lesse learnedly then feruently vppon the same, what these propositions and conclusions were, partly in his treatise hereafter followyng, called patrike places, may appeare. thus the ingenious wyt of this learned patrike increasing haply more and more in knowledge, and inflamed with godlynes, at length began to reuolue with himselffe, touchyng his returne into his countrey, beyng desirous to importe vnto hys countrye men, some fruite of the understandyng, which he had receaued abroad. wherupon persisting in his godly purpose, he toke one of the iij. whom he brought out of scotland, and so returned home without any longer delay.[ ] where he, not susteinyng the miserable ignoraunce and blyndnes of that people, after he had valiauntly taught and preached the truth, and refelled their abuses, was first accused of heresie, and afterward, constantly and stoutly susteinyng the quarell of gods gospell, against the high priest, and archbyshop of s. andrew, named james beton, was cited to appeare before him and his colledge of priests, the first day of march . but he beyng not onely forward in knowledge, but also ardent in spirite, not tarying for the houre appoynted, prenented the time, and came very early in the mornyng, before he was looked for, and there mightely disputyng against them, when he could not by the scriptures be conuicted, by force he was oppressed: and so, the sentence of condemnation beyng giuen agaynst him, the same day after dyner, in all the hoate hast, he was had away to the fire, and there burned, the kyng beyng yet but a child, which made the byshops more bold. and thus was this noble hamelton, the blessed seruaunt of god, without all iust cause, made away by cruell aduersaries, yet not without great fruite to the church of christ, for the graue testimony of his bloud, left the verity and truth of god, more fixed and confirmed in the hartes of many, then euer could after be pluckt away: in so much that diuers afterward standing in his quarel, susteined also the lyke martyrdome, as hereafter (christ willyng) shall appeare, as place and tyme shall require. in the meane season we thinke good to expresse here his articles, and order of his processe as we receaued them from scotland, out of the registers. ¶ the articles and opinions obiected agaynst m. patrike hamelton, by iames beton, archbyshop of s. andrewes.[ ] that man hath no free will. that there is no purgatory. that the holy patriarkes were in heauen, before christes passion. that the pope hath no power to loose and bynde: neither any pope had that power, after s. peter. that the pope is antichrist, and that euery priest hath the power that the pope hath. that m. patrike hamelton was a byshop. that it is not necessary to obteine any bulles from any byshop. that the vow of the popes religion, is a vow of wickednes. that the popes lawes be of no strength. that all christians worthy to be called christians, do know that they be in the state of grace. that none be saued, but they are before predestinate. whosoeuer is in deadly sinne, is vnfaythfull. that god is the cause of sinne, in this sence, that is, that he withdraweth hys grace from men, whereby they sinne. that it is deuilishe doctrine, to enioyne to any sinner, actuall penaunce for sinne. that the sayd m. patrike himself doubteth whether all children departing incontinent after their baptisme, are saued or condemned. that auricular confession is not necessary to saluation. these articles aboue written, were geuen in, and layd agaynst m. hamelton, and inserted in their registers, for the which also he was condemned, by them which hated him, to death. but other learned men, which commoned and reasoned with hym, do testifie, that these articles folowyng were the very articles for the which he suffered.[ ] . man hath no free will. . a man is onely iustified by fayth in christ. . a man, so long as he liueth, is not without sinne. . he is not worthy to be called a christian, which beleueth not that he is in grace. . a good man doth good workes: good workes do not make a good man. . an euill man bringeth forth euil workes: euil workes, being faithfully repented, do not make an euill man. . fayth, hope, and charitie be so lynked together, that one of them can not be without an other, in one man, in this life. ¶ and as touching the other articles, whereupon the doctours gaue their iugementes, as diuers do report, he was not accused of them before the byshop. albeit in priuate disputation, he affirmed and defended the most of them. here foloweth the sentence pronounced agaynst hym. christi nomine inuocato: we iames, by the mercy of god, archbishop of saint andrew, primate of scotland, wyth the counsaile, decree, and authoritie of the most reuerend fathers in god, and lordes, abbottes, doctoures of theologie, professors of the holy scripture, and maisters of the uniuersitie, assisting us for the tyme, sitting in iudgement within our metropolitane church of s. andrew, in the cause of hereticall prauitie, agaynst m. patrike hamelton, abbot or pensionarie of ferne, being summoned to appeare before vs, to aunswere to certeine articles affirmed, taught, and preached by hym, and so appearyng before vs, and accused, the merites of the cause beyng ripely weyde, discussed, and understanded by faythful inquisition made in lent last passed: we haue fonnde the same m. patrike, many wayes infamed wyth heresie, disputing, holding, and maintaynyng diuers heresies of martin luther, and hys folowers, repugnant to our fayth, and which is already[ ] condemned by generall councels, and most famous vniuersities. and he being vnder the same infamie, we decernyng before, hym to be summoned and accused vpon the premisses, he of euill mynde (as may be presumed) passed to other partes, forth of the realme, suspected and noted of heresie. and beyng lately returned, not beyng admitted, but of his owne head, without licence or priuiledge, hath presumed to preach wicked heresie. we have found also, that, he hath affirmed, published, and taught diuers opinions of luther, and wicked heresies, after that he was summoned to appeare before vs and our councell:[ ] that man hath no free wyll: that man is in sinne so long as he lyueth: that children incontinent after their baptisme, are sinners: all christians that be worthy to be called christians, do know that they are in grace: no man is iustified by workes, but by fayth onley: good workes make not a good man, but a good man doth make good workes: that fayth, hope, and charitie, are so knit, that he that hath the one, hath the rest, and he that wanteth the one of them, wanteth the rest, &c., wyth diuers other heresies and detestable opinions: and hath persisted so obstinate in the same, that by no counsaile nor perswasion, he may be drawen therefrom, to the way of our right fayth. all these premisses being considered, we hauing god and the integritie of our fayth before our eyes, and followyng the counsaile and aduise of the professours of the holy scripture, men of law, and others assistyng vs, for the tyme:[ ] do pronounce, determine, and declare, the sayd m. patrike hamelton, for his affirmyng, confessing, and maintayning of the foresayd heresies, and his pertinacitie (they beyng condemned already by the church, general councels, and most famous vniuersities) to be an hereticke, and to haue an euil opinion of the fayth, and therefore to be condemned and punished, like as we condemne, and define hym to be punished, by this our sentence definitiue, depriuyng and sentencyng him, to be depriued of all dignities, honours, orders, offices, and benefices of the church: and therfore do iudge and pronounce him to be deliuered ouer to the secular power,[ ] to be punished, and his goodes to be confiscate. this our sentence definitiue, was geuen and read at our metropolitan churche of s. andrewes, the last day of the moneth of february, an. , beyng present, the most reuerend fathers in christ, and lordes, gawand bishop of glasgow, george byshop of dunkelden. iohn, byshop of brecham. william, byshop of dunblane. patrike, prior of saint andrew. dauid, abbot of abirbrothok. george, abbot of dunfermelyng. alexander, abbot of caunbuskyneth. henry, abbot of lendors. iohn, prior of pittynweme. the deane, and subdeane of glasgow. m. hew spens. thomas ramsay. allane meldrum, &c. in the presence of the clergy and the people. after the condemnation and martyrdome of this true saint of god was dispatched, by the bishops and doctours of scotland, the rulers and doctours of the uniuersitie of louane hearyng therof, receaued such ioyc and consolation, at the shedyng of that innocent bloud, that for the aboundance of hart, they could not stay their penne, to vtter condigne thankes, applaudyng and triumphyng in their letters, sent to the forcsayd byshop of s. andrewes, and doetours of scotland, at the worthy and famous descruynges of their atchieued enterprise, in that behalfe: as by the tenour of their sayd letter may appeare, which here foloweth. ¶ the copy of a letter congratulatorie, sent from the doctours of louane, to the archbyshop of s. andrewes and doctours of scotland, commendyng them for the death of m. patrike hamelton. your excellent vertue (most honourable bishop) hath so deserued, that albeit we be farre distant, both by sea and land, without coniunction of familiaritie, yet we desire with all our hartes, to thanke you for your worthy deede, by whose workes, that true faith which, not long ago, was tainted with heresie, not onely remaineth vnhurt, but also is more confirmed. for as our deare frend m. alexander galoway, chanon of aberdon, hath shewed vs, the presumption of the wicked hereticke patrike hamelton, which is expressed in this your example, in that you haue cut him of, when there was no hope of amendement, &c. the which thyng, as it is thought commendable to vs, so the manor of the procedyng was no lesse pleasant, that the matter was performed by so great consent of so many estates, as of the clergy, nobility, and vulgare people, not rashely, but most prudently, the order of law beyng in all poynts obserued. we haue sene the sentence which ye pronounced, and alway do approue the same, not doubtyng but that the articles which be inserted, are erroneous: so that whosoeuer wil defend for a truth, any one of the same, with pertinacitie, should be esteemed an enemy to the fayth, and an aduersary to the holy[ ] scripture. and albeit one or two of them appeare to be without errour, to them that will consider onely the bare wordes: as (for example) good workes make not a good man, but a good man worketh good workes, yet there is no doubt, but they conteine a lutheran sense, which, in a maner, they signifie: to witte, that workes done after fayth, and justification, make not a man the better, nor are worthy of any reward before god. beleue not, that this example shall haue place onely among you, for there shalbe among externe nations, which shall imitate the same, &c. certainly, ye haue geuen vs great courage, so that now we acknowledge your vniuersitie,[ ] which was founded accordyng to the example of our vniuersitie of louane, to be equall to ours, or els aboue: and would god occasion were offered of testifying our myndes toward you. in the meane tyme, let vs labour with one consent, that the rauenyng wolues may be expelled from the shepefold of christ, while we haue tyme. let vs study to preach to the people more learnedly hereafter, and more wisely. let vs have inquisitours, and espyers of bookes, containyng that doctrine, especially that is brought in from farre countreys, whether by apostatiue monkes, or by marchauntes, the most suspected kynde of men in these dayes. it is sayd, that since scotland first embraced the christian fayth, it was neuer defiled with any heresie. perseuer therfore, beyng moued thereunto by the example of england, your next neighbour, which in this most troublous tyme, is not chaunged, partly by the workyng of the byshops, among the which[ ] roffensis hath shewed hymselfe an euangelicall phoenix, and partly of the kyng, declaryng hymselfe to be an other mathias of the new law: pretermittyng nothyng that may defend the law of his realme. the which, if your most renowned kyng of scotland will follow, he shall purchase to himselfe eternal glory. further, as touchyng the condigne commendation, due for your part (most reuerend byshop) in this behalfe, it shal not be the least part of your prayse, that these heresies haue bene extinct sometymes in scotland, you beyng primate of scotland and principal authour therof: albeit that they also which haue assisted you, are not to be defrauded of their deserued prayse, as the reuerend byshop of glasgow, of whose erudition, we haue here geuen vs partly to understand, and also the reuerend byshop of aberden, a stoute defender of the fayth, together with the rest of the prelates, abbots, priours, and professours of holy scripture. let your reuerend fatherhode take this litle testificate of our duety toward you, in good part, whom we wish long and happely well to fare in christ. from louane, an. , aprill . by the maisters and professours of theologie in the vniuersitie of louane, yours to commaunde. ¶ in this epistle of the louaniane doctours, i shall not neede (gentle reader) to note vnto thee, what a pernitious thyng in a common wealth, is blynd ignoraunce, when it falleth into cruell hartes. which may well be compared to a sword put in the handes of one, that is both blynd and mad. for as the blynd man, hauyng no sense to see and iudge knoweth not whom he striketh: so the madde man, beyng cruell and furious, hath no compassion in sparyng any. wherupon it happeneth many tymes with these men, as it dyd with the blynd furious phariseis, that as they hauyng the sword of authoritie in their handes, in stede of malefactours and false prophetes, slue the true prophetes of god, and at last crucified the kyng of glory: so these catholicke louanians and folowers of their messias of rome, take in their handes the sworde of iurisdiction, who neither seyng what to spare, nor caryng whom they smite, vnder the stile and pretense of heretiques, murther and blaspheme without mercy, the true preachers of the gospell, and the holy annoynted of the lord. * * * * * "but to returne to the matter agayne of m. hamelton, here is moreouer to be observed, as a note worthy of memory, that in the yeare of the lord , in the which yeare this present history was collected in scotland, there were certaine faythfull men of credite then alyue, who beyng present the same tyme, when m. patrike hamelton was in the fire, heard him to cite and appeale the blacke frier called campbel, that accused him, to appeare before the hygh god, as generall iudge of all men, to aunswere to the innocency of his death, and whether his accusation was iust or not, betwene that and a certaine day of the next moneth, which he there named. moreouer by the same witnes it is testified, that the sayd frier dyed immediatly before the sayd day came, without remorse of conscience, that he had persecuted the innocent. by the example wherof diuers of the people the same tyme, much mused, and firmely beleued the doctrine of the foresayd m. hamelton, to be good and iust. "hereunto i thought good to adioyne a certaine godly and profitable treatise of the sayd m. patrike hamelton, written first by him in latine, and afterward translated by john frith into english, which he names patrikes places; not vnprofitable in my mynde, to be sene and read of all men, for the pure and comfortable doctrine conteined in the same, as not onely by the treatise it selfe may appeare, but also by the preface of the sayd john frith, prefixed before; which also i thought not inconuenient to insert with the same, as here foloweth." * * * * * the "brief treatise," translated by john fryth, which immediately follows the above extracts from foxe, has already been included in the present volume: see pages to . it appears from some payments in the treasurer's accounts, in , that patrick hamilton had left an illegitimate daughter named isobell. some readers perchance may think that such a fact should have remained unnoticed, as casting a blemish on his hitherto pure and immaculate character; but a regard to what may be called historical justice, will not allow such a circumstance to be concealed, while the habitual licentious conduct of the highest dignitaries of the church at that time are, in the course of the present work, so frequently alluded to. "item, the x day of aprile deliuerit to be ane gowne to issobell hammiltoun, _dochter to umquhill patrik abbot of fern_, four elnis frenche blak, price of the eln xxxiiij s.... summa, vj lib. xvj s. "item, deliuerit to be hir are kirtill, thre elnis frenehe brown, price of the eln xxx s.... summa, iiij lib. x s. "item, deliuerit to hir to walt the samin, and to be hir pertlettis, ane eln blak veluet, price thairof, ... lvj s." in the following month of may , another gown was furnished to isobell hamilton. no. iv. on the royal pilgrimages to the shrine of st. duthack, at tain, in ross-shire. in a note to page , i expressed some doubt as to the accuracy of the statement that king james the fifth was sent in pilgrimage to the shrine of st. duthack, immediately previous to the trial and condemnation of patrick hamilton. had the treasurer's accounts for , or the household book between july and august , been preserved, they might have enabled us to trace the king's movements. but the statement is highly improbable in itself. mr. tytler has shown that james only escaped from the thraldom of the douglasses at the end of may , or nearly three months after hamilton's sentence; and it was most unlikely from the vigilant restraint under which the king was kept that he would have been allowed to traverse a great part of the country upon such an errand. it may also be kept in view, that if an application had been made to james, before he assumed the reins of government, it is scarcely probable his interference would have had any effect in preventing the sentence of the ecclesiastical courts from being carried into execution. * * * * * want of space prevents me from inserting here, as i intended, a series of extracts from the treasurer's accounts during the reign of james the fourth, in connexion with his visits to that celebrated shrine. i shall therefore merely notice, that the public registers furnish some evidence to shew that he made an annual pilgrimage to st. duthack's chapel, in ross-shire. on more than one occasion the king rode unattended from stirling across the mountain pass of the grampians, leading from fettercairn to the north side of the dee, and from thence to elgin, inverness, and tain. these repeated visits to a distant shrine may have been performed as an act of penance, the chapel having been founded by his father, james the third. such a journey, with a few attendants, he appears to have made in august , or only one month previously to his setting out on his calamitous expedition, when he was slain at floddon. no. v. foxe's account of henry forrest, and other martyrs in scotland, during the reign of king james the fifth. the fate of henry forress or forrest seems to have excited much less attention than might have been expected. in the note to page , i suggested that the probable time of his martyrdom may be placed in ; and he may thus be regarded as the second victim in the cause of the reformed faith in scotland. the strict inquisition which took place, and caused a number of persons to forsake their native country, whilst others met with a similar fate as his own in the course of a few years, may have contributed to this comparative silence. even foxe, to whom we are chiefly indebted for preserving an account of his fate, seems to have been ignorant of it in ; as in the following short paragraph, from the first edition of his work, he refers to those who suffered in edinburgh in , as the next in succession to the abbot of ferne:-- "¶ five burnt in skotland. "seuen yeres after patrik hamelton, whose history is before passed, there were v. burnte in skotland, in the city of edenborow, being the metropolitike citye of al skotlande, of the which fiue two were dominicane friers, one priest, one gentleman, and the fifthe was a channon: whose iudges and inquisitors were these: jhon maior, archbishop of s. androwes, petrus chappellanus, and the franciscane friers, whose labor and diligence is never wanting in such matters." (page .) * * * * * at the same time i suggested that henry forrest was the son of thomas forrest of linlithgow, who was in the employment of king james the fourth. since that sheet was printed, i find the name of "heniricus forrus" in the list of students who were incorporated, that is, became bachelors of arts, at the university of glasgow, in the year . if this was the martyr, we may presume that at the time of his martyrdom he must have been upwards of thirty years of age. this however may have been another person of the same name, as we find "henricus forrest," as a determinant in st. leonard's college, st. andrews, in , which leaves no doubt of his having, two years later, witnessed the fate of patrick hamilton. the following is foxe's account from his enlarged edition of his "actes and monuments," in :-- "henry forest, martyr. persecutors. iames beton, archbishop of s. andrewes. frier walter laitig, bewrayer of the confession of this henry forest. martyrs henry forest. at. s. andrewes in scotland. the causes within few years after martydome of m. patrike hamelton, one henry forest, a yong man borne in lithquow, who a little before, hand receyued the orders of benet and colet (as they terme them) affirmed and sayd, that m. patrike hamelton died a martyr, and that his articles were true: for the which he was apprehended, and put in prison by james beton, archbishop of saint andrewes. who shortly after, caused a certaine frier named walter laing, to heare his confession. to whom when henry forest in secret confession had declared his conscience how he thought m. patrike to bee a good man and wrongfully to be put to death, and that his articles were true and not hereticall: the frier came and vttered to the bishop the confession that he had hearde, which before was not thoroughly known. whereupon it followed that his confession beyng brought as sufficient probation agaynst him, he was therfore conuented before the councell of the clergy and doctors, and there concluded to bee an hereticke, equall in iniquity with m. patricke hamelton, and there decreed to be geuen to the secular indges to suffer death. "when the day came of hys death, and that he should first be degraded, and was brought before the cleargy in a grene place, beyng betwene the castle of s. andrews, and another place called monymaill, as sone as he entred in at the dore, and saw the face of the clergy, perceiuing wherunto they tended, he cryed with a loude voyce, saying: fie, on falshoode: fye on false friers, reuealers of confession: after this day, let no man euer trust any false friers, contemners of god's word and deceiuers of men. and so they proceding to degrade him of hys small orders of benet and collet, he sayd with a loud voyce, take from me not onely your owne orders, but also your owne baptisme, meaning thereby, whatsoeuer is besides that which christ hymselfe instituted, whereof there is a great rablement in baptisme. then after hys degradation, they condemned hym as an heretike equal with m. patrike aforesaide: and so he suffred death for his faythfull testimony of the truth of christ, and of hys gospell, at the northchurch stile of the abbey church of s. andrew, to the entent that all the people of anguishe [angus] might see the fire, and so might be the more feared from falling into the like doctrine, whiche they terme by the name of heresie. _ex scripto testimonio scotorum_." * * * * * foxe next proceeds to narrate the persecution of james hamilton, brother of patrick, of katherine hamilton, their sister, and of a woman at leith. this must have occurred in , as hamilton was in england early in . see note ; and the rev. christopher anderson's annals of the english bible, vol. ii. p. . foxe joins with this an account of the martyrdom of david straton and norman gourlay, as follows:-- "james hamelton. katherine hamelton his sister. a wife of lyeth, persecuted. dauid straton, norman gurley, martyrs. persecutors. iames hay, bishop of rose and commissioner of iames beton, archbishop of s. andrewes. m. iohn spens, lawyer. martyrs. iames hamelton, brother to m. patrike. katherine hamelton, a wyfe of lieth. dauid straton. m. norman gurlay. the causes. within a yere after the martirdom of henry forest, or there about, was called james hamelton of kyntlitgow, hys sister katherine hamelton the spouse of the captain of dunbar, also an other honest woman of leith, dauid straton of the house of lawristonne, and m. norman gurlay. these were called the abbey church of halyrowdhouse in edenburgh by james hay, b. of rose, commissioner to james beton archbishop, in presence of k. james the v. of that name: who upon the day of theyr accusation was altogether clad in red apparel. james hamelton accused as one that mainteaned the opinions of m. patricke, hys brother. to whome the kyng gaue counsaile to departe, and not to appeare: for in case he appeared he could not help him, because the byshops had persuaded him, that the cause of heresie did in no wise appertayne vnto him, and so james fled and was condemned as an heretike, and all his goods and landes confiscat, and disposed vnto others. catherine hamilton hys sister, appeared vpon the schaffold, and beyng accused of an horrible heresie, to witte, that her owne workes could not saue her, she graunted the same, and after longe reasoning betwene her and m. john spens the lawyer, she concluded in this maner: work here, worke there: what kinde of workyng is al this? i know perfectly that no kynde of workes can saue mee, but onely the workes of christ my lord and sauiour. the kyng hearing these wordes, turned hym about and laught, and called her vnto hym and caused her to recant, because she was hys aunt, and she escaped. the woman of leith was detected hereof, that when the mydwife in tyme of her labour, bad her say our ladye helpe mee: she cryed, christe helpe me, christ helpe me, in whose helpe i trust. shee also was caused to recant, and so escaped, without confiscation of her goodes, because she was maryed. maister norman gurlay, for that he sayd, there was no such thyng as purgatory, and that the pope was not a byshop, but antichrist, and had no jurisdiction in scotland. also dauid straton, for that he sayd, there was no purgatorie, but the passion of christe, and the tribulations of this world, and because that, when m. robert lowson vicare of eglesgrig asked his tieth fishe of hym, he dyd cast them to him out of the boate, so that some of them fell into the sea: therefore he accused him, as one that shoulde haue sayd, that no tithes should be payed. these two, because after great solicitation made by the kyng, they refused to abiure and recant, were therefore condemned by thee byshop of rose as heretickes, and were burned vpon the grene side, betwene leith and edenburgh, to the entent that the inhabitaunts of fiffe, seyng the fyre, might be stricken with terrour and feare, not to fall into the lyke. _ex eodem scripto._ ¶ and thus much touchyng those martyrs of scotland, whiche suffered vnder james beton, archbishop of s. andrewes. after whom succeded dauid beton in the same archbyshopprike, vnder whom diuers other were also martyred, as hereafter (god willyng) in their order shall appeare." "¶ the historie touching the persecution in scotlande, with the names and causes of suche blessed martyrs, whiche in the same countrey suffered for the truth, after the tyme of patricke hamelton. "thus hauyng finished the tyme and rase of kyng henry the eight, it remayneth nowe according to my promise made before, here to place and adjoine so much as hath come to our handes, touchyng the persecution of scotland, and of the blessed martyrs of christ, whiche in that countrey likewise suffred for the true religion of christ, and testimony of their fayth. to proccede therefore in the history of these scotlandc matters, next after the mention of dauid straton and m. nicholas gurlay, with whom we ended before, pag. , the order of tyme woulde require nexte to inferre the memorye of sir john borthwike knight, commonly called captayne borthwyke. who beyng accused of heresie (as the papistes call it) and cited therfore, an. , and not appearyng, and escaping out into other countreys, was condemned for the same, being absent, by the sentence of dauid beaton archbishop of saint andrewes, and other prelates of scotland, and all his goodes confiscate, and his picture at last burned in the open market place, &c. but for so muche as the storye of hym, with his articles obiected against hym, and his confutation of the same, is already expressed sufficiently in the firste edition of actes and monuments, and because he being hapily deliuered out of their handes, had no more but onely his picture burned, referring the reader to the booke aboue mentioned, we wyll now (the lord willing) prosecute suche other as followed, begynnyng firste in order with thom. forret and his felowes. their story is this. persecutors. dauid beton, bishop and cardinal of saint andrewes. george creichton, bishop of dunkelden. martyrs. tho. forret, priest. fryer iohn kelowe. fryer benarage. duncan sympson, priest. rob. foster, a gentleman, with three or foure other men of striuelyng, martyrs. the causes. not long after the burnyng of dauid strutton, and m. gurlay aboue mentioned, in the dayes of dauid beaton bishop and cardinall of s. andrewes, and george creichton bishop of dunkelden, a canon of s. colmes inche, and vicar of dolone, called deane thomas forret, preached euery sonday to his parishners, the epistle or gospel, as it fell for the tyme: whiche then was a great noueltie in scotlande, to see anye man preach, except a blacke fryer, or a gray frier: and therefore the fryers enuyed hym, and accused hym to the bishop of dunkelden (in whose dioces he remayned) as an heretike and one that shewed the mysteries of the scriptures to the vulgare people in englishe, to make the clergie detestable in the sight of the people. the bishop of dunkelden moued by the fryers instigation, called the sayde deane thomas, and saide to hym: my joye deane thomas, i loue you well, and therefore i must geue you my counsayle, how you shal rule and guide your selfe. to whom thomas sayd, i thanke your lordship hartily. then the bishop begun his counsaile on this manner. my joy deane thomas, am enfourmed that you preache the epistle or gospell euery sonday to your parishners, and that you take not the kowe, nor the vpmoste cloth from your parishners, whiche thyng is very preiudiciall to the churche men: and therefore my joye deane thomas, i would you tooke your kowe and your vpmost cloth, as other church men do, or els it is too much to preach euery sonday, for in so doyng you may make the people think that we shoulde preache likewise. but it is enough for you, when you finde any good epistle, or any good gospel, that setteth foorth the libertie of the holy church, to preache that, and let the rest be. thomas answeared: my lorde, i thinke that none of my parishners wyl complaine that i take not the kow nor the vpermost cloth, but wyll gladly geue me the same together with any other thing that they haue, and i wyll geue and communicate with them any thyng that i haue, and so my lord we agree right wel, and there is no discord among vs. and where your lordship sayth, it is too muche to preache euery sonday: in deede i thinke it is too litle, and also woulde wishe that your lordshyp dyd the like. nay, nay, deane thomas (sayth my lord) let that bee, for we are not ordeyned to preache. then said thomas, when your lordship byddeth me preach, when i finde any good epistle, or a good gospell, truely my lorde, i haue readde the newe testament and the olde, and all the epistles and the gospels, and among them all i coulde neuer finde any euyl epistle, or any euyl gospel: but if your lordship wil shewe me the good epistle and the good gospell, and the euyll epistle and the euyll gospel, then i shall preache the good, and omyt the euyl. then spake my lord stoutly, and said, i thanke god that i neuer knewe what the olde and newe testament was, (and of these wordes rose a prouerbe which is common in scotland: ye are like the bishop of dunkelden, that knewe neither newe nor olde lawe:) therefore deane thomas, i wyll know nothyng but my portous and my pontifical. go your way, and let be al these fantasies: for if you perseuer in these erroneous opinions, ye wyl repent it when you may not mende it. thomas said, i trust my cause be iust in the presence of god, and therefore i passe not muche what doo folowo thereupon, and so my lorde and he departed at that tyme. and soone after a summons was directed from the cardinall of saint andrewes and the said bishop of dunkelden vpon the said deane thomas forret, vpon two blacke fryers called fryer john kelow, and an other called benarage, and vpon one priest of striueling called duncane sympson, and one gentleman called robert foster in striuelyng, with other three or foure, with them of the towne of striuelyng: who at the day of their appearaunce after their summonyng, were condemned to the death without any place of recantation, because (as was alleged) they were heresiarkes or chiefe heretikes and teachers of heresies, and especially because many of them were at the bridal and marriage of a priest, who was vicar of twybodye beside striuelyng, and dyd eate fleshe in lent at the said brydal, and so they were altogether burnt vpon the castle hyll of edenbrough, where they that were first bounde to the stake, godly and marueylously dyd comfort them that came behynde. here foloweth the maner of persecution vsed by the cardinall of scotland, against certaine persons in perth. persecutors. dauid beton, bishop and cardinall of st. andrewes. martyrs. robert lambe. william anderson. iames hunter. iames raueleson. iames founleson. hellen stirke, his wyfe. the causes. first there was a certayne acte of parlamente made in the gouernment of the lorde hamleton earle of arran, and gouernour of scotlande, geuyng priuilege to all men of the realme of scotlande, to reade the scriptures in their mother tongue, and language, secluding neuerthelesse all reasonyng, conference, conuocation of people to heare the scriptures readde or expounded. which liberty of priuate reading being graunted by publike proclamation, lacked not his own fruit, so that in sundry partes of scotlande thereby were opened the eyes of the elect of god to see the truth, and abhorre the papistical abominations. amongst the which were certane persons in saint johnston, as after is declared. at this tyme there was a sermon made by fryer spense, in saint johnston, _alias_ called perth, affirmyng prayer made to saintes to be so necessarye, that without it there coulde be no hope of saluation to man. whiche blasphemous doctrine a burges of the saide towne called robert lambe, could not abide, but accused hym in open audience, of erroneous doctrine, and adiured hym in gods name to vtter the truth. the which the fryer beyng striken with feare, promised to do, but the trouble, tumult, and sturre of the people encreased so, that the fryer could haue no audience, and yet the saide robert with great daunger of his life escaped the handes of the multitude, namely of the women, who contrary to nature, addressed them to extreme cruelty agaynst hym. at this tyme in the yeare of our lord, , the enemies of the truth procured john chartuous, who fauoured the truth, and was prouost of the saide citie and towne of perth, to be deposed from his office by the sayd gouernours authoritie, and a papist called master alexander marbecke to be chosen in his roum, that they might bring the more easily their wicked enterprise to an ende. after the deposing of the former prouost, and election of the other, in the moneth of january the yeare aforesaid, on saint paules day, came to saint johnston, the gouernour, the cardinall, the earle of argile justice, sir john campbel of lunde knight, and justice depute, the lord borthwyke, the bishop of dunblane, and orkney, with certeyne others of the nobilitie. and although there were many accused for the crime of heresie (as they terme it) yet these persons were only apprehended vpon the said saint paules day, rob. lambe, wil. anderson, james hunter, james raueleson, james founleson, and hellen stirke his wife, and cast that night in the spay tower of the said citie, the morowe to abide judgement. upon the morow, when they appeared and wer brought forth to judgement in the towne, was laid in general to all their charge, the violatyng of the act of parlament before expressed, and their conference and assemblies in hearing and expoundyng of scripture against the tenour of the saide acte. robert lambe was accused in speciall for interruptyng of the fryer in the pulpit: which he not only confessed, but also affirmed constantly, that it was the dutie of no man, which vnderstood and knew the truth, to heare the same impugned without contradiction, and therfore sundry which there wer present in judgement, who hyd the knowledge of the truth, should beare their burden in gods presence for consenting to the same. the said robert also with william anderson, and james raueleson, were accused for hanging vp the image of saint fraunces in a corde, nailyng of rammes hornes to his head, and a cowes rumpe to his taile, and for eating of a goose on alhalow euen. james hunter being a simple man, and without learnyng, and a fletcher by occupation, so that he coulde be charged with no greate knowledge in doctrine, yet because he often vsed the suspect companye of the rest, he was accused. the woman hellen stirke was accused, for that in her chyldbed shee was not accustomed to cal vpon the name of the virgine mary, beyng exhorted thereto by her neighbours, but onely vpon god, for jesus christes sake, and because shee saide in like maner, that if shee her selfe had ben in the tyme of the virgin mary, god might haue loked to her humilitie and base estate, as he dyd to the virgins, in making her the mother of christe, thereby meaning, that ther was no merites in the virgin, which procured her that honor, to be made the mother of christ, and to be preferred before other women, but gods only free mercy exalted her to that estate. which wordes were counted most execrable in the face of the clergie and whole multitude. james raueleson aforesaid building a house, set vpon the round of his fourth stayre, the three crowned diademe of peter carued of tree, which the cardinal tooke as done in mockage of his cardinals hat, and this procured no fauor to the said james at their handes. these forenamed persons vpon the morow after saint paules' day were condemned and iudged to death, and that by an assise, for violatyng (as was alleged) the act of parlament, in reasoning and conferring vpon scriptures, for eatyng flesh vpon dayes forbidden, for interruptyng the holy fryer in the pulpit, for dishonoring of images, and blasphemyng of the virgin mary, as they alleged. after sentence geuen, their hands were bound, and the men cruelly entreated. which thyng the woman beholding desired likwise to be bound by the sergeantes with her husband for christes sake. there was great intercession made by the towne in the meane season for the lyfe of these persons aforenamed, to the gouernour, who of him self was wyllyng so to haue done, that they might haue bene deliuered. but the gouernour was so subiect to the appetite of the cruel priestes, that he could not do that which he would. yea, they manaced to assist his enemyes, and to depose hym, except he assisted their cruelty. there were certaine priestes in the citie, who dyd eate and drinke before in these honest mens houses, to whom the priestes were much bounden. these priestes were earnestly desired to entreate for their hostesse, at the cardinalles handes: but they altogether refused, desiryng rather their death then preseruation. so cruell are these beastes from the lowest to the highest. then after, they were caryed by a great band of armed men (for they feared rebellion in the towne, except they had their men of warre) to the place of execution, whiche was common to al theeues, and that to make their cause appeare more odious to the people. robert lambe at the gallowes foote made his exhortation to the people, desiryng them to feare god, and leaue the leauen of papistical abominations, and manifestly there prophesied of the ruine and plague whiche came vppon the cardinall thereafter. so euery one comfortyng an other, and assuring them selues to sup together in the kingdome of heauen, that nyght commended them selues to god, and dyed constantly in the lord. the woman desired earnestly to dye with her husband, but shee was not suffered: yet folowyng hym to the place of execution, shee gaue hym comfort, exhortyng hym to perseuerance and pacience for christes sake, and partyng from hym with a kysse, sayd on this maner: husband, reioyce, for we haue lyued together many ioyful dayes: but this day, in which we must dye, ought to be most ioyful to vs both, because we must haue ioy for euer. therfore i wyll not byd you good night, for we shall sodaynely meete with ioy in the kyngdome of heauen. the woman after was taken to a place to be drowned, and albeit shee had a chyld sucking on her breast, yet this moued nothyng the vnmerciful hartes of the enemies. so after she had commended her children to the neighbors of the towne for gods sake, and the suckyng barne was geuen to the nurse, shee sealed vp the truth by her death. _ex registris et instrumentis a scotia missis._" no. vi. notices of the protestant exiles from scotland during the reign of king james the fifth. dr. m'crie, in his life of knox, appendix, vol. i., and the rev. christopher anderson, in his annals of the english bible, vol. ii., have collected nearly all the information that can be gleaned respecting the chief persons who became exiles on account of their religious sentiments at this early period. i shall, therefore, content myself with giving little more than a simple enumeration of their names. * * * * * alexander alesse, (in latin, alesius,) as mentioned in a note to page , was a native of edinburgh, born in the year , and educated at st. andrews. the rev. christopher anderson in his annals of the english bible, has introduced a variety of interesting notices of alexander alesse, with extracts from some of his earlier publications. according to a statement in one of his works, he fled from scotland in the year , and his conversion was owing to his interviews with patrick hamilton when under confinement. a collection of his writings, if carefully translated, and accompanied with a detailed memoir of his life, would form a very suitable and valuable addition to the series of the wodrow publications. he became professor of divinity in the university of leipzig, where he died on the th of march . john elder, according to his own information, was a native of caithness, and had spent twelve years as a student at the universities of aberdeen, st. andrews, and glasgow. he fled to england probably in or ; and about two years later, he addressed a letter to henry the eighth, with a plan or description of scotland, containing a project for the union of the two kingdoms. the letter written in or , contains a bitter invective against beaton and "the proud papisticall bishops" in scotland. it was printed in the bannatyne miscellany, vol. i., from the original ms. preserved in the british museum. elder was patronized by the earl of lennox, and became tutor to henry lord darnley. in , he published a "letter sent into scotland, &c.," on occasion of the marriage of philip and mary. this very curious tract, which is now of great rarity, he dedicated to robert stuard, bishop of caithness. in , he was in france, as we learn from a letter respecting him, inserted in stevenson's illustrations of scotish history, (printed for the maitland club,) p. ; and which mentions that he had shewn to queen mary the hand-writing of darnley, when eight years of age. it ends with remarking of elder, what was probably true enough: "he hath wit to play the aspye (spy) where he listeth." john fyfe: see page , where it is noticed that he prosecuted his studies under gawin logye, at st. andrews. he may no doubt be identified with the person styled joannes fidelis, a native of scotland, who obtained considerable academical distinction abroad. bishop burnet, and other writers, state that fyfe accompanied alesse to leipzig, where he was professor; but, in reference to this statement, a passage in the acta eruditorum, p. , lipsiæ , asserts, that the registers of that university having been carefully examined, no mention of his name could be discovered. if we substitute francfort instead of leipzig, the notice would be substantially correct, as alesius had for a short time been professor there before his removal to leipzig; and while there he published amongst other tracts an academical oration, "de restituendis scholis oratio, habita in celebri academiæ francofordiana ad oderam, an. , mense iunio." the name of john fidelis scotus, as professor of philosophy and divinity, was inscribed in the registers of the university of francfort, in . he was created doctor, and chosen rector in ; and he died on the th of march , in the d year of his age. (notitia universitatis francofurtanæ, pp. , , folio.) this notice does not confirm the report mentioned by calderwood, that fyfe had returned to scotland, and died at st. leonard's, soon after the reformation, in . john gaw has already been mentioned at page , as author of a rare work entitled "the richt way to hevin," which bears to have been printed at malmoe, (in sweden,) in the year . many years ago, in passing through that town, the seat of a university, i had the curiosity to inquire in their library if any copy of that volume was preserved--but it was altogether unknown. the author appears to have attended the university of st. andrews; as we find the name of johannes gall, (_scotice_ gaw,) among the determinants, in the year ; but of his subsequent history no information has been obtained. james harryson, a native of the south of scotland. the work mentioned under a latin title by dr. m'crie, (life of knox, vol. i. p. ,) as described by bale, was written in english, and printed at the time under this title--"an exhortation to the scottes to conform themselves to the honorable, expedient, and godly union betweene the two realmes of englande and scotlande. lond. in aedibus ric. grafton, ," small vo. the preface, dedicated to edward duke of somerset, is signed "james harryson scottyshman." henry henryson: see page , note . william johnstone, advocate: see page , note . dr. patrick anderson, in his ms. history mentions neill johnstone, a brother of william johnstone, among the persons who were accused of heresy, . whether the advocate continued in his adherence to the catholic faith may be held doubtful; as after his death, we find, in the proceedings of the general assembly, th december , that mr. andrew johnstone, brother-german _to umquhill mr. william johnstone_, required process for reduction of the sentence pronounced by umquhill james [beaton] archbishop of st. andrews, against him and his brother for alleged heresies. this request was referred to the superintendent of lothian and the session of edinburgh to follow the same process as had been led in previous cases. on the th december , this matter was again brought before the assembly, when it was declared that the articles referred to were not heretical, and the judges formerly appointed were ordained to proceed to a final decision of the said action. (booke of the kirk, vol i. pp. , .) gawin logye, principal of st. leonard's college, st. andrews, from to , has been noticed at page ; of his subsequent history no particulars have been discovered. dr. john macalpyne, who is best known by his latin name machabaeus, was born before the close of the th century. it is unnecessary to repeat the notices given by dr. m'crie, (life of knox, vol. i. p. .) he took his master's degree at one of the universities, but i have not observed his name either in the registers of st. andrews, or glasgow. john macalpyne was prior of the dominican convent at perth, from to . (rev. james scott's ms. extracts, and mr. parker lawson's book of perth, p. .) his flight therefore to england may be placed in rather than in . spottiswood, (hist. p. ,) and burnet, (hist, of reform, vol. i. p. ,) say he was liberally entertained by nicholas shaxton, bishop of salisbury; and myles coverdale, some time bishop of exeter, was his brother-in-law. after visiting wittenberg, he received an invitation to settle in denmark, in the year , and became professor in the university of copenhagen, and one of the chaplains of christian the second, king of denmark. he assisted in translating the bible into that language, which was published in the year . some of his writings are indicated in nyerup's dansk-norsk litteratur lexicon, vol. ii. p. . the earl of rothes having been sent as ambassador to denmark, in the spring of ; in the treasurer's accounts, among other payments connected with this embassy, we find s. was paid on the th of march that year, to "ane boy sent to sanctandrois to my lord of rothes thair, with writingis of my lord gouernouris, _to be given at his arriving in denmark to maister johne makcalpyne_ and alexander lyell there." dr. machabaeus, or macalpyne, died at copenhagen, th december . john mackbrair is mentioned by spottiswood as "a gentleman of galloway, who forsaking the country for religion, became a preacher in the english church; in the time of queen marie's persecution he fled to francford, and served the english congregation as minister. afterwards called by some occasion to the charge of a church in the lower germany, he continued there the rest of his days."--(history, p. .) it is very certain, however, that mackbriar was in priest's orders before retiring to the continent. he was incorporated in st. salvator's college, st. andrews, in , and became a determinant in . on the th july , john lokart of bar, and two others were denounced rebels, &c., for assistance rendered, in may last, to mr., _alias_ sir john m'brair, formerly canon of glenluce, in breaking ward of the lord governor's castle of hammiltoune, where he was imprisoned, being charged for sundry great and odious crimes, heresies, &c., and conducting him to the house of bar.--(pitcairn's criminal trials, vol. i. p. *.) this addition to his name signifies an uncertainty whether he had taken his degree as master or only that of bachelor of arts. archbishop hamilton, in a letter, without date, but probably in , refers to his having expelled from the house of ochiltree the apostate macbraire, and inflicted heavy fines on his followers. the name of john makebray is included in the list of the principal persons who escaped from england to the continent, in , after the accession of queen mary. in , he appears from the "discourse of the troubles begun at frankfort," to have taken an active share in the proceedings of the english congregation there. he afterwards became pastor of a congregation in lower germany, and according to bale, he wrote an account of the formation and progress of that church. on the accession of queen elizabeth, mackbrair returned to england and officiated as a preacher; and on the th of november , he was inducted to the vicarage of st. nicholas, in newcastle. he survived for many years, and was buried on the th of november .--(see m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. , and the authorities there quoted.) james mackdowell: see page , note . robert richardson studied in st. leonard's college, st. andrews, where he became, in , a canon regular and sacrist of the holy cross; and in , a canon of the abbey of cambuskenneth. in that year he published at paris a latin work, an exegesis on the rule of st. augustine. there is no reason to doubt that he was the same person as the sir robert richardson, a priest, mentioned in by sadler, (letters, vol. i. p. .) sadler, in a letter to henry viii, dated november , again commends richardson who had been forced to flee from scotland for fear of persecution, having "done very honestly and diligently in his calling," "in the setting furth and true preaching of the word of god."--(state papers, vol. i. p. .) but this priest must be distinguished from his namesake, the prior of st. mary's isle, who has been noticed at page ; and who took his degree as master of arts at st. andrews, in . james wedderburn, the eldest son of james wedderburn, a merchant in dundee, was one of a family distinguished by their poetical genius. he was educated at st. andrews, being incorporated in that university in . in calderwood's history, vol. i. p. , will be found an interesting account of his life, and notices of his writings, of which unfortunately there are none preserved. john wedderburn, a younger brother, was also educated at st. andrews, being a determinant, in , and a licentiate in . he was appointed vicar of dundee. at a later period, having been licensed of heresy, the escheat of the goods belonging to mr. john wedderburn, "convict. de certis criminibus heresieos," was granted to his brother henry wedderburn, for a composition of s. in or , (m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. .) in march - , a pursuivant was directed to pass to dundee and search james rollokkis gudes, and maister john wedderburn, (ib. p. .) john wedderburn is said to have gone to germany, where he became acquainted with luther and melanethon. while residing abroad he translated some of their works or "dytements" into scotish verse; and the metrical version of various psalms, included in the volume of "gude and godly ballates:" see page . it is also stated, that after the death of james the fifth, he returned to scotland, but was again compelled to expatriate himself; and that he died in england, in .--(calderwood's hist. vol. i. p. .) no. vii. alexander seyton. in mentioning alexander seyton, calderwood says, "he was of a quicke ingyne, and tall stature;" and adds, "i find in mr. john davidson's scrolles, that he was brother to ninian seton laird of tough."--(hist. vol. i. p. .) in this case he must have been the youngest son of sir alexander seyton of touch and tillybody in stirlingshire; and the pedigree of that family may in part be thus exhibited:-- i. sir alexander seyton of touch and tillybody in stirlingshire. married lady elizabeth erskine, daughter of thomas second earl of mar. ii. sir alexander, his son and successor, had a charter of the barony of tulchfrasere on the forfeiture of murdoch earl of fyfe, in . he was killed at floddon in . he married elizabeth, daughter of alexander lord home. iii. sir ninian seyton, his son and successor, on the th of august , obtained a divorce from his wife matilda grahame. (liber ofliciulis s. andreæ, p. .) he was alive in : david seyton was probably another son, as well as alexander. they prosecuted their studies at the same time at st. andrews. iv. walter seyton, son and heir of sir ninian seyton of tullibody, had a charter of the barony of touchfraser and tullibody, th january - ; and another, th may . among wodrow's biographical collections at glasgow, are "collections upon the life of alexander seaton, dominican frier, confessor to king james the fifth, and afterwards chaplain to the duke of suffolk in england;" which are printed in the appendix to "the history of the house of seytoun," pp. - , glasgow , to. but wodrow's account consists of little else than mere extracts from knox, foxe, and calderwood. alexander seyton, as already stated, was educated at st. andrews. a person of the same name became a licentiate in ; but the confessor may more probably be identified with alexander seyton, who, with david seyton, appear among the determinants in , and the intrants in , as _potentes_, who paid the highest fees. at page i have suggested that the year of seyton's flight to england, when he addressed his letter to king james the fifth, may have been or . according to knox, seyton remained in england, and taught the gospel in all sincerity; which drew upon him the power of gardyner bishop of winchester, and led to his making a recantation or final declaration at paul's cross, in opposition to his former true doctrine. this was published at the time in a small tract, of which a copy is preserved in the archiepiscopal library at lambeth. it is entitled, "the declaracion made at paules crosse in the cytye of london, the fourth sonday of advent, by alexander seyton, and mayster willyam tolwyn, persone of s. anthonyes in the sayd cytye of london, the year of our lord god m.d.xli., newly corrected and amended." (the colophon,) "imprinted at london in saynt sepulchre's parysshe, in the olde bayly, by rychard lant. ad imprimendum solum." mo. eight leaves. an account is given by foxe of seyton's examination, or "certaine places or articles gathered out of seyton's sermons by his adversaries;" which, he says, he "exhibits to the reader, to the intent that men may see, not only what true doctrine seyton then preached consonant to the scriptures, but also what wrangling cauillers can do, in depraining that is right, or in wrastyng that is well ment, &c."-- , edit. . bale informs us that seyton died in the year , in the house of charles brandon, duke of suffolk, to whose household he officiated as chaplain.--(script. bryt. cent. xiv. p. .) no. viii. sir john borthwick. sir john borthwick was a younger son of william third lord borthwick, who was slain at floddon in . sir ralph sadler mentions "captain borthwick, lieutenant of the french king's guard," as one of the persons who were appointed by james the fifth, to accompany the english ambassador when presented at court in february - .--(state papers, vol. i. p. .) on the th of may - , or immediately after the baptism of prince james, and after james the fifth had purposed setting out on his voyage round the western isles, borthwick had been cited to appear before cardinal beaton and other prelates at st. andrews, on a charge of heresy. in the cardinal's absence, who accompained the king in this expedition, gawin archbishop of glasgow, and lord chancellor of scotland, presided; but borthwick having escaped to england, he was condemned, and excommunicated, and his effigy burnt at the market-cross of st. andrews. soon after this borthwick wrote a defence of himself, in the form of answers to the several articles of his accusation. it has been preserved by foxe, in his latin commentaries printed at basil, in , folio, pp. - , with the title of "actio, processus, seu articuli contra d. joan. borthuicum, equitem auratum in scotia, &c.," [ ,] to which is prefixed an address "d. borthuichus ad lectorem." in the first edition of foxe's english "actes and monuments," , pp. - , and in vo. edit. , vol. v. pp. - , it occurs under this title, "the act or processe, or certain articles agaynst syr jhon borthuike knight, in scotland; with the answer and confution of the said borthuicke; whose preface to the reader here followeth, &c." but foxe, when republishing his work, says, "for as muche as the storye of hym, with his articles objected against hym, and his confutation of the same is already expressed sufficiently in the firste edition of actes and monuments, and because he being happily deliuered out of their handes had no more but onely his picture burned, referring the reader to the booke above mentioned, we wyll now, (the lord willing,) prosecute such other as followed, &c."--( d edition, , p. .) after the reformation, borthwick brought an action of declarator before john wynram, superintendent of fife, (who, as sub-prior of st. andrews, had sat, in , as one of his judges,) th of august , and on the th of september following, the articles and sentence were reversed. the process of declarator, embodying the original sentence and articles extracted from the register of cardinal beaton, is printed in the bannatyne miscellany, vol. i. pp. - . see also calderwood's hist. vol. i. pp. - ; keith's hist. vol. i. p. ; lyon's st. andrews, vol. i. pp. - .--"this worthie knight, (says calderwood,) ended his aige with fulnesse of daies at st. andrewes." this took place before , when william borthwick is mentioned as son and heir of the late sir john borthwick of cinery. no. ix. george wishart the martyr. calderwood states, that "mr. george wishart was a gentleman of the house of pittarrow."--(hist. vol. i. p. .) and in the wodrow miscellany, in an introductory notice, i have said, "he was born in the early part of the th century, and is believed to have been a younger son of james wishart of pittaro, who was admitted justice clerk, in december , and continued till between and ."--(vol. i. p. .) further inquiries have failed in ascertaining this point; and it must have been through some collateral branch if any such relationship existed. a note of various early charters relating to the wisharts of pittaro, was most obligingly communicated by patrick chalmers of auldbar, esq.; and several others are contained in the register of the great seal; but the want of space, and their not serving to throw any light upon the martyr's parentage, causes me to omit such notices. there is a fine old portrait, not unworthy of holbein, said to be of george wishart, in the possession of archibald wishart, esq., w.s., edinburgh, which bears the date, m.d.xliii. Ætat. . if this portrait can be identified, the date would fix his birth to the year . but his early history and education are quite unknown. the facts discovered relating to his history may briefly be stated. * * * * * . wishart had been employed as master of a school in montrose; but being summoned by john hepburn, bishop of brechin, on a charge of heresy, for teaching his scholars the greek new testament, he fled to england. see petrie's history of the catholick church, part , p. . hague , folio. . he was at bristol, preaching against the worship and mediation of the virgin mary; but he was led to make a public recantation, and burnt his faggot in the church of st. nicholas in that city, in token of his abjuration. it was probably immediately after this humiliating act that he went abroad. . he appears to have remained in germany and switzerland till after the death of james the fifth. he mentions in his examination, (see supra, page ,) a conversation he had with a jew, while sailing on the rhine. about the same time he translated "the confession of faith of the churches of switzerland," which was printed a year or two after his death, and which has been reprinted in the wodrow miscellany, vol. i. pp. - . . this year he was residing us a member of corpus christi college, cambridge, according to the interesting account of his habits and acquirements by his pupil emery tylney, which is preserved in foxe's martyrology. , or in the following year, he returned to scotland; and he continued to preach in different parts of the country; at montrose, dundee, and in ayrshire, and subsequently at leith, and in east-lothian. . on the th of january he was apprehended at ormiston, carried prisoner first to edinburgh, and then to st. andrews. his trial was on the th of february, and his execution on the st of march: (see supra, page .) three months later cardinal beaton was assassinated. * * * * * in a work like the present, it is desirable to avoid all controversial remarks; but i hope to be excused in offering a few words in regard to what has been considered a serious charge against george wishart. the precise date of wishart's return to scotland is very doubtful. knox, (supra, page ,) places it in , but joins this with an explanation which might carry it back to july , and with the defeat of the governor, which belongs to a later period. mr. tytler, (hist. vol. v. p. ,) says, "from the time of his arrival in the summer of , _for more than two years_ wishart appears to have remained in scotland, protected by the barons who were then in the interest of henry, and who favoured the doctrines of the reformation." yet nevertheless, according to mr. tytler, and later authorities, he was employed as a messenger in may , conveying letters from crichton of brunstone to the earl of hertford at newcastle, and from thence, with other letters, to henry the eighth, in relation to a projected scheme devised by the laird of brunstone for the assassination of cardinal beaton; and after having had an interview with the king at greenwich, returning first to newcastle, and then to scotland. this employment--which has been held up as a notable discovery--proceeds upon the fact of "a scotishman, _called wyshart_," being mentioned as the bearer of the letters referred to; and the laird of brunstone having been wishart's "great friend and protector," in , hence it is concluded that the person employed was george wishart the martyr. among the wisharts of that time the name of _george_ was not peculiar to him. _george wischart_ was one of the bailies of dundee, d may , and for several years previously; and in the protocol book of thomas ireland, notary public in dundee, belonging to that borough, i observed the copy of a deed, in which "_georgius wischart_, frater-germanus joannis wischart de pettarrow," was one of the procurators in a matter concerning "_georgius wischart_, armiger crucis regis galliæ," th june . now, in reply to the above argument, i beg to remark, that there is no certain evidence of george wishart having returned to scotland earlier than or ; that if the name of _george wishart_ had been specified in the letters, there were other persons of that name who might equally have been employed in such services; and that if it had been ascertained beyond all doubt that he possessed a full knowledge of the plots against beaton devised by crichton of brunstone, even then, according to the terms of the earl of hertford's letter, and confirmed by the letter in reply from the english council, the attempt was to be confined to the _arrestment of the cardinal_, while passing through fife--the proposal of _sleeing him_, having been suggested only as an alternative, in case of necessity. but to say nothing of the uncongenial nature of the employment, to a man such as described by his devoted pupil emery tylney, who had been under his tuition at cambridge, for twelve months, in , it may further be urged,-- . that wishart had no occasion to entertain a personal animosity to the cardinal; and that being denounced, or put to the horn, and liable to summary arrestment and execution, he could not have undertaken the task at such a time, of carrying letters and messages between the conspirators. . that the plots against beaton being well known, even to the cardinal himself, if wishart had in any way been concerned in them, it would unquestionably have formed a leading accusation against him in his trial,--but no allusion to such a charge was ever whispered. and lastly,--that the actual enterprise, by which the castle of st. andrews was taken, and the cardinal murdered, on the th of may, was in a great measure a scheme hastily arranged and executed, mainly in revenge of the martyr's own fate, and altogether unconnected and uninfluenced by any former plots devised by crichton of brunstone, but which have been employed to implicate the irreproachable character of george wishart. no. x. john rough. a brief notice of this very zealous preacher is given at page . i regret that only a portion can be added in this place of the interesting account of his examination and death in december , as preserved in foxe's "actes and monuments." calderwood's account of rough's martyrdom, (hist. vol. i. p. ,) is abridged from the same authority. "the death and martyrdome of john rowgh, minister, and margaret mearyng, burned at london the xxii. of december. in this furious time of persecution, were also burned these twoo constaunt and faithfull martyrs of christe, john rough a minister, and margarette mearyng. this rough was borne in scotland, who (as him selfe confesseth in his aunsweres to boners articles) because some of his kinsfolke woulde haue kept him from his right of inheritaunce which he had to certaine landes, did at the age of xvij. yeares, in despite (and the rather to displease his frendes) professe hym selfe into the order of the blacke friers at sterlyng in scotland: where he remained the space of xvi. yeares, vntill suche tyme as the lorde hamulton, earle of arren, and gouernour of the realme of scotlande aforesaid (castyng a fauour vnto hym) did sue vnto the archbishop of s. andrewes, to haue him out of his professed order, that as a secular priest he might serue hym for his chaplaine. at whiche request the archbishop caused the prouinciall of that house, hauyng thereto authoritie, to dispence with hym for his habite and order. this sute beeyng thus by the earle obtained, the said rough remained in his seruice one whole yeare: during which time it pleased god to open his eyes, and to geue hym some knowledge of his truthe, and thereupon was by the said gouernour sent to preache in the freedome of ayre, where he continued four yeares, and then after the death of the cardinall of scotland, hee was appointed to abide at s. andrewes, & there had assigned vnto hym a yearely pension of xx. pound from kyng henry the eight, kyng of england. howbeit, at last waiyng with him selfe his owne daunger, and also abhorryng the idolatrie and superstition of his countrey, and hearyng of the freedome of the gospell within this realme of england, hee determined with hym selfe not to tary any longer there: and therefore soone after the battaile of musclebourough, he came first vnto carliell, and from thence vnto the duke of somerset, then lord protectour of england, and by his assignement had appointed vnto him out of the kinges treasury xx. poundes of yearely stipend, and was sent (as a preacher) to serue at carliell, barwicke, and newcastell. from whence (after he had there, according to the lawes of god, and also of this realme, taken a countrey woman of his to wife) he was called by the archbishop of yorke that then was, vnto a benefice nigh in the towne of hull: where hee continued vntill the death of that blessed and good king, edward vi. but in the beginnyng of the reigne of queene mary (perceauyng the alteration of religion, and the persecution that would thereupon arise, and feelyng hys owne weakenes) he fled with his wife into friseland, and dwelt there at a place culled morden, labouryng truely for his liuyng, in knittyng of cappes, hose, and suche like thinges, till about the ende of the moneth of october last before his death. at whiche tyme, lackyng yearne and other such necessary prouision for the mainteinaunce of his occupation, he came ouer againe into england, here to prouide for the same, and the x. day of nouember arriued at london. where hearyng of the secrete societie, and holy congregation of gods children there assembled, he ioyned himselfe vnto them, and afterwardes beyng elected their minister and preacher, did continue moste vertuously exercised in that godly fellowship, teaching and confirmyng them in the truth and gospell of christe. but in the ende such was the prouidence of god, who disposeth all thinges to the best, the xij. daye of december, he with cutbert simson and others, through the crafty and traiterous suggestion of a false hipocrite and dissembling brother called roger sargeaunt, a taylor, were apprehended by the vicechamberlaine of the queenes house, at the saracens heade in islington: where the congregation had then purposed to assemble themselues to their godly and accustomable exercises of prayer, and hearyng the word of god: which pretence, for the safegard of all the rest, they yet at their examinations, couered and excused by hearing of a play that was then appointed to be at that place. the vice chamberlaine after he had apprehended them, caried rough and simson vnto the counsell, who charged them to haue assembled together to celebrate the communion or supper of the lord, and therefore after sundry examinations and aunsweres, they sent the saide rough vnto newgate: but his examinations they sent vnto the bishop of london, with a letter signed with their handes, the copy whereof followeth. ¶ a letter sent from the queenes councell vnto boner bishop of london, touching the examination of iohn rough minister. after our hartye commendations to your good lordship, we sende you here inclosed the examination of a scotish man, named iohn rough, who by the queenes maiesties commaundement is presently sent to newgate, beeyng of the chief of them that vpon sondaie laste, vnder the colour of commyng to see a play at the saracen's head in islington, had prepared a communion to be celebrated and received there among certaine other seditious and hereticall persons. and forasmuche as by the sayd roughes examination, contayning the storie and progresse of his former life, it well appeareth of what sort he is: the queenes highnes hath willed vs to remit him vnto your lordship, to the end that beyng called before you out of prison, as oft as your lordship shall thinke good, ye maie proceede, both to his further examination, and otherwise orderyng of him, accordyng to the lawes, as the case shall require. and thus we bid your lordship hartely wel to fare. from s. james the xv. of december, . your lordships louyng frendes. nicholas ebor. f. shrewsbery. edward hastinges. antony mountague. iohn bourne. henry iernegam. boner now minding to make quicke dispatch, did within three dayes after the receite of the letter (the xviij. day of december) send for thys rough out of newgate, and in his palace at london ministered vnto him xij. articles: many whereof because they containe onely questions of the profession and religion of that age, wherein both he and his parentes were christened (which in sundry places are already mentioned) i do here for breuitie omit: minding to touch such onely, as pertayne to matters of faith now in controuersie, and then chiefely obiected agaynst the martyrs and saintes of god, which in effect are these." * * * * * for these articles against john rough, and his answers, and also a letter written by him in prison, with a further notice of his appearance before bishop bonner, the reader must be referred to foxe's own work. his fellow-sufferer margaret mearyng, was one of his flock: after being condemned and degraded, both of them were "led vnto smithfield the xxij. daye of december , and there most joyfully gave up their lives for the profession of christes gospell." no. xi. norman lesley. norman lesley, the eldest son of george earl of rothes, (see page ,) is first named in the parliamentary proceedings against the murderers of cardinal beaton; and a dagger, the sheath of silver richly chased, and the handle of ivory, preserved at leslie house, according to tradition, was made use of by him on that occasion. although he may be considered as the leader in that enterprise, there is no evidence to shew that he was actually one of the perpetrators. the cause of his hostility is said to have thus originated. the lands of easter wemyss in fife, became annexed to the crown by the forfeiture of sir james colville, (then deceased,) th march ; and were given by james the fifth to the rothes family. after the king's death, the forfeiture was reduced in parliament on the th december , under the direction of cardinal beaton; which so offended the master of rothes, that it is said to have been the proximate cause of the cardinal's murder.--(senators of the college of justice, p. .) after lesley's forfeiture and imprisonment in france, he visited various countries, and also returned to scotland. on the th of may , the lairds of phillorth, fyvie, meldrum, and others, were summoned "to underly the law for the resset of normond leslie."--(treasurer's accounts.) his subsequent history is thus related by spottiswood:-- "after his release from captivity he returned into scotland, but fearing the governour he went into denmark, where not finding that kind reception he expected, he betook himself to england, and had an honourable pension allowed him; which was thankfully answered during the reign of edward the sixt. queen mary succeeding, he found not the like favour, and thereupon went to france, where he had a company of men of armes given him, with which he served the french king in his warres against the emperour charles the fifth, and in pursuing the enemy whom he had in chase, was wounded with the shot of a pistoll, whereof he died the day after, at montreul. he was a man of noble qualities, and full of courage, but falling unfortunately in the slaughter of the cardinal, which he is said at his dying to have sore repented, he lost himself and the expectation which was generally held of his worth."--(history, p. .) it appears that norman lesley at the time he entered the service of the king of france, had obtained absolution from the court of rome for his share in the cardinal's murder. a particular account of his death is preserved by sir james melville, and may here be quoted:-- "bot the king drew langis the frontiers toward a gret strenth callit renty, wher he planted his camp and beseigit the said strenth, quhilk i hard the constable promyse to delyuer vnto the k. before the end of aucht dayes. quhilk promyse was not keped, for themperour cam in persone with his armye for the releif therof.... at quhilk tym normond lesly maister of rothes wan gret reputation. for with a thretty scotis men he raid up the bray vpon a faire grey gelding; he had aboue his corsellet of blak veluet, his cot of armour with tua braid whyt croises, the ane before and thother behind, with sleues of mailze, and a red knappisk bonet vpon his head, wherby he was kend and sean a far aff be the constable, duc of augien and prince of conde. wher with his thretty he chargit vpon threscore of ther horsmen with culuerins, not folowed with seuen of his nomber; wha in our sicht straik v of them fra ther horse with his speir, before it brak; then he drew his swerd and ran in amang them, not caring ther continuell schutting, to the admiration of the behalders. he slew dyuers of them; at lenth when he saw a company of speirmen comming doun against him, he gaif his horse the spurris, wha carried him to the constable and fell doun dead, for he had many schotis: and worthy normond was also schot in dyuers partis, wherof he died xv dayes efter. he was first caried to the kingis awin tent, wher the duc of augyen and prince of conde told his maiestie that hector of troy was not mair vailzeand them the said normond: whom the k. wald so dressit with his awen serurgiens, and maid gret mean for him; sa did the constable and all the rest of the princes. bot na man maid mair dule nor the lard of grange, wha cam to the camp the nyxt day efter, fra a quyet raid wher he had been directed."--(memoirs, p. , bannatyne club edition, edinb. , to.) * * * * * norman lesley, master of rothes, married issobel lindesay, daughter of john fifth lord lindesay of the byres, but left no issue; and, as stated in note , the title, on his father's death, in , devolved on andrew, the son of a second marriage. no. xii. adam wallace. john hamilton, abbot of paisley and bishop-elect of dunkeld, was nominated by his brother the governor to the see of st. andrews, as beaton's successor, in ; and after a considerable period, his appointment was confirmed at the court of rome. on the th march - , in the name of the bishops and kirkmen, he presented a supplication to the governor and council, for "help and remeid against the sacramentaris and those infected with the pestilential hersie of luther;" while others, it is added, "abjurit and relapsit, baneist of auld, now comes pertlie [openly] without any dreidour, nocht allenarly in the far parts of the realme, but als to the court and presens of your lordships, and sometimes preaches opinlie, and instructs utheris in the said dampnable heresies."--(keith's history, vol. i. p. .) during his negociations with the court of rome, hamilton transmitted an information, urging his claims as primate and _legatus natus_. he refers in it to the increasing number of heretics in the diocese of glasgow, both in the time of the late archbishop, (gawin dunbar, who died in ,) and during the vacancy in that see, and assumes credit to himself for having visited that diocese and purged it of many obnoxious heretics; and in particular, for having expelled that apostate macbraire, from the house of ochiltree, and inflicted heavy fines on his adherents, and for having caused (vallasius) wallace, a native of that diocese, after he had been convicted and condemned for heresy, before a convention of the nobility and clergy, to be delivered over to the secular power, to the flames. (mackeson's ms. as quoted in m'crie's life of knox, vol. ii. p. .) in addition to note at page , it may be mentioned, that wallace had been employed in the family of cockburn of ormiston, in teaching his children after they had been deprived of knox's instructions, and while cockburn himself was forfeited and in exile. the following account of wallace's trial and condemnation is copied from foxe's actes and monuments, and may be compared with that given by knox, at pages - . in reference to the formidable array of prelates and the nobility assembled in the church of the blackfriars' monastery, to the trial of this "simple man," whom knox celebrates as "zealous in godliness, and of an upright life," i find in the treasurer's accounts, that between july and september , the sum of £ , s. d. was paid to james dalyell, (who was "one of the masters of work,") "quhilk he debursit in preparing of ane scaffald the tyme of the accusatioun of wallace." "the story and martyrdome of adam wallace in scotland. "there was set vpon a scaffold made hard to the chauncellary wall of the blacke friers church in edinbrough on seates made thereupon, the lord gouernour. aboue him at his backe sat m. gawin hamelton deane of glasgue, representing the metropolitane pastor thereof. upon a seat on his right hand sat the archbishop of s. andrewes. at his backe, and aside somewhat stoode the officiall [of] lowthaine. next to the byshop of s. andrewes, the bishop of dumblane, the byshop of murray, the abbot of dunfermling, the abbot of glenluce, wyth other churchmen of lower estimation, as the official of s. andrewes and other doctours of that nest and citie. and at the other end of the seat sat maister [of] uchiltrie. on his left hand sat the earle of argyle justice, with his deputye syr john campbell of lundy vnder his feete. next hym the earle of huntly. then the earle of anguish, the byshop of gallaway, the prior of s. andrewes, the bishop of orknay, the lord forbes, dane john wynrime suppriour of s. andrewes, and behinde the seates stoode the whole senate, the clarke of the register, &c. at the further end of the chauncelary wall in the pulpit was placed m. john lauder parson of marbottle, accuser, clad in a surplice, and a red hood, and a great congregation of the whole people in the body of the church, standing on the ground. after that, syr john ker prebendary of s. gyles church was accused, conuicted, and condemned, for the false making and geuing forth of a sentence of diuorce, and thereby falsly diuorced and parted a man and hys lawfull wyfe, in the name of the deane of roscalrige [restalrig], and certayne other judges appointed by the holy father the pope. he graunted the falshood, and that neuer any such thing was done in deede, nor yet ment nor moued by the foresayd judges; and was agreed to be banished the realmes of scotland and england for hys lyfe tyme, and to lose his right hand if he were found or apprehended therin hereafter, and in the meane time to leaue his benefices for euer, and they to be vacant. after that was brought in adam wallace, a simple poore man in appearance, conueyed by john of cunnoke seruant to the bishop of s. andrewes, and set in the middest of the scaffold, who was commaunded to looke to the accuser: who asked him what was hys name. he aunswered, adam wallace. the accuser said he had an other name, which he graunted, and sayd he was commonly called feane. then asked he where he was borne; within two myle of fayle (sayd he) in kyle. then sayd the accuser, i repent that euer such a poore man as you should put these noble lordes to so great encumbrance thys day by your vayne speakyng. and i must speake (sayd he) as god geueth me grace, and i beleue i haue sayd no euill to hurt any body. would god (sayd the accuser) ye had neuer spoken, but you are brought forth for so horrible crimes of heresie, as neuer was imagined in thys countrey of before, and shall be sufficiently proued, that ye cannot deny it: and i forethinke that it should be heard, for hurting of weak consciences. now i wyll ye thee no more, and thou shalt heare the pointes that thou art accused of. adam wallace, alias feane, thou art openly delated and accused for preaching, saying, and teaching of the blasphemies and abominable heresies vnderwritten. in the first, thou hast sayd and taught, that the bread and wyne on the altar, after the wordes of consecration, are not the body and bloud of jesu christ. he turned to the lord gouernour, and lords aforesayd, saying: i sayd neuer nor taught nothyng, but that i found in this booke and writte (hauyng there a bible at his belte, in french, dutch, and english) which is the worde of god, and if you will be content that the lord god and his worde be judge to me and this his holy writ, here it is, and where i haue sayd wrong, i shall take what punishment you will put to me: for i neuer said nothyng concerning this that i am accused of, but that which i found in this writte. what diddest thou say, sayd the accuser? i sayd (quoth he) that after our lord jesus christ had eaten the pascall lambe in hys latter supper wyth his apostles, and fulfilled the ceremonies of the olde law, he instituted a new sacrament in remembrance of his death then to come. he tooke bread, he blessed, and brake it, and gaue it to hys disciples, and sayde: "take ye, eate ye, thys is my bodye, which shall be broken and geuen for you: and lykewise the cuppe, blessed, and badde them drinke all therof, for that was the cup of the new testament, which shoulde be shedde for the forgeuing of many. how oft ye do thys, do it in my remembraunce." (matth. .) then sayd the bishop of s. andrewes, and the officiall of lowthaine, with the deane of glasgue, and many other prelates: we know this well enough. the earle of huntly sayd: thou aunswerest not to that which is laide to thee: say either yea or nay therto. he aunswered, if ye wyll admitte god and his word spoken by the mouth of hys blessed sonne jesus christ our lord and sauiour, ye wyll admit that i haue sayd: for i haue sayd or taught nothing, but that the word, which is the triall and touchstone, sayth, whiche ought to be judge to me, and to all the world. why (quoth the earle of huntly) hast thou not a judge good enough; and trowest thou that we know not god and his worde; aunswere to that is spoken to thee: and then they made the accuser speake the same thyng ouer agayne. thou saydest (quoth the accuser) and hast taught, that the bread and wyne in the sacrament of the aultar, after the wordes of the consecration, are not ye body and bloud of our sauiour jesus christ. he aunswered: i sayd neuer more then the write sayth, nor yet more then i haue sayd before. for i know well by s. paule when he sayth: whosoeuer eateth this bread, and drinketh of this cup vnworthely, receaueth to himselfe damnation. ( cor. xi.) and therfore when i taught (which was but seldome, and to them onely which required and desired me) i sayd, that if the sacrament of the aultar were truly ministred, and vsed as the sonne of the liuyng god did institute it, where that was done, there was god himselfe by his divine power, by the which he is ouer all. the byshop of orkney asked him: beleuest thou not (sayd he) that the bread and wyne in the sacrament of the aultar, after the wordes of the consecration, is the very body of god, flesh, bloud, and bone? he aunswered: i wot not what that word consecration meaneth. i haue not much latin, but i beleue that the sonne of god was conceaued of the holy ghost, and borne of the virgine mary, and hath a naturall body with handes, feete, and other members, and in the same body hee walked vp and downe in the world, preached, and taught, he suffered death vnder pontius pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, and that by his godly power hee raysed that same body agayne the thyrd day: and the same body ascended into heauen, and sitteth on the right hand of the father, whiche shall come agayne to iudge both the quicke and the dead. and that this body is a naturall body with handes and feete, and can not be in two places at once, hee sheweth well him selfe: for the whiche euerlastyng thankes be to hym that maketh this matter cleare. when the woman brake the oyntment on hym, aunsweryng to some of his disciples whiche grudged thereat, hee sayd: the poore shall you haue alwayes with you, but me shall you not haue alwayes, (math. .) meanyng of his naturall body. and likewise at his ascension sayd he to the same disciples that were fleshly, and would euer haue had him remainyng with them corporally: it is needefull for you that i passe away, for if i passe not away, the comforter the holy ghost shall not come to you (john .) (meanyng that his naturall body behoued to be taken away from them): but be stoute and of good cheare, for i am with you vnto the worldes end. (math. . john .) and that the eatyng of his very flesh profiteth not, may well be knowen by his wordes whiche he spake in the vj. of john, where after that he had sayd: except ye eate my flesh and drinke my bloud, ye shal not haue life in you: they murmuryng thereat, he reproued them for their grosse & fleshly takyng of his wordes, and sayd: what will ye thinke when ye see the sonne of man ascend to the place that it came fro? it is the spirite that quickneth, the flesh profiteth nothyng, (john. ,) to be eaten as they tooke it, and euen so take ye it. it is an horrible heresie, sayd the byshop of orknay. when he began to speake agayne, and the lord gouernour iudge if hee had right by the write, the accuser cryed: ad secundam. nunc ad secundam, aunswered the archbyshop of s. andrewes. then was he bidden to heare the accuser, who propounded the second article, and sayd: thou saydedst lykewise, and openly byddest teach, that the masse is very idolatry, and abhominable in the sight of god. he aunswered and sayd: i haue read the bible and word of god in three tounges, and haue vnderstand them so farre as god gaue me grace, and yet read i neuer that word masse in it all: but i found (sayd he) that the thyng that was hyghest and most in estimation amongest men, and not in the word of god, was idolatry, and abhominable in the sight of god. and i say the masse is holden greatly in estimation, and hygh amongest men, and is not founded in the word, therefore i sayd it was idolatry and abhominable in the sight of god. but if any man will finde it in the scripture, and proue it by gods word, i will graunt myne errour, and that i haue fayled: otherwise not, and in that case i will submit me to all lawfull correction and punishment. ad tertiam, sayd the archbyshop. then sayd the accuser: thou hast sayd and openly taught that the god which we worshyp, is but bread, sowen of corne, growyng of the earth, baked of mens handes, and nothyng els. he aunswered, i worshyp the father, the sonne, and the holy ghost, three persons in one godhead, whiche made and fashioned the heauen and earth, and all that is therein of naught, but i know not which god you worship: and if you will shewe me whom you worship, i shall shewe you, what he is, as i can by my iudgemene. beleuest thou not (sayd the accuser) that the sacrament of the alter, after the wordes of the consecration betwixt the priestes handes, is the very body and bloud of the sonne of god, & god hymself? what the body of god is, sayd he, & what kynde of body he hath, i haue shewed you, so farre as i haue found in scripture. then sayd the accuser: thou hast preached, sayd, and openly taught diuers and sundry other great errours and abhominable heresies agaynst all the vij. sacraments, which for shortnes of tyme i pretermit and ouer pass. whether doest thou graunt thy foresayd articles that thou art accused of, or no, and thou shalt heare them shortly? and then repeted the accuser the iij. articles aforesayde shortly ouer, and asked him whether he graunted or denied them. he aunswered that before he had said of his aunsweres, and that he sayd nothyng, but agreeing to the holy word as he vnderstoode, so god iudge him, and his owne conscience accuse hym, and thereby woulde he abide vnto the tyme he were better instructed by scripture, and the contrary proued, euen to the death: and said to the lord gouernour and other lordes: if you condemne me for holding by gods word, my innocent bloud shalbe required at your handes, when ye shalbe brought before the iudgement seat of christ, who is mightie to defend my innocent cause, before whome ye shall not denye it, nor yet be able to resiste hys wrath: to whom i referre the vengeaunce, as it is written: "vengeaunce is myne, and i will rewarde." (heb. .) then gaue they forth sentence, and condemned him by the lawes, and so left him to the secular power, in the handes of syr john campbell justice deputie, who deliuered hym to the prouost of edenbrough to be burnt on the castlehill; who incontinent made hym to be put in the vppermost house in the towne wyth irons about his legges and necke, and gaue charge to syr hew terrye to keepe the key of the sayde house, an ignoraunt minister and impe of sathan, and of the byshops; who by direction, sent to the poore man two gray friers to instructe hym, wyth whom he woulde enter into no commoning. soone after that was sent in two blacke friers, an englishe frier & an other subtile sophister called arbircromy, with the which englishe frier he would haue reasoned and declared hys fayth by the scriptures. who aunswered, he had no commission to enter in disputation with hym, and so departed and left him. then was sent to hym a worldly wise man, and not vngodly in the vnderstanding of the truth, the deane of roscalrige,[ ] who gaue hym christian consolation, amongest the which he exhorted him to beleue the realtie of the sacrament after the consecration. but he would consent to nothing that had not euidence in the holy scripture, and so passed ouer that night in singing, and lauding god to the eares of diuers hearers, hauing learned the psalter of dauid without booke, to his consolation: for before they had spoyled hym of hys bible, which alwaies til after he was condemned, was with him where euer he went. after that, syr hew knew that he had certaine bookes to read and comfort his spirit, who came in a rage & tooke the same from him, leauing him desolate (to his power) of all consolation, and gaue diuers vngodly & injurious prouocations by his deuilishe venome, to haue peruerted him a poore innocent, from the patience & hope he had in christ hys sauiour: but god suffered him not to be moued therewith, as plainely appeared to the hearers and seers for the tyme. so all the next morning abode this poore man in yrons, and prouision was commaunded to be made for his burnyng agaynst the next day. which day the lord gouernour, and all the principall both spirituall and temporall lords departed from edenbrough to their other busines. after they were departed, came the deane of roscalrige to him againe & reasoned with him after his wit. who aunswered as before, he would say nothing concerning his faith, but as the scripture testifieth, yea though an aungell came from heauen to perswade him to the same: sauing that he confessed himselfe to haue receaued good consolation of the said deane in other behalfes, as becommeth a christian. then after came in the said terry again & examined him after his old maner, and said he would garre deuils to come forth of him ere euen. to whom he aunswered: you should be a godly man to geue me rather consolation in my case. when i knewe you were come, i prayed god i myght resiste your temptations, which i thanke him, he hath made me able to doe: therefore i pray you let me alone in peace. then he asked of one of the officers that stoode by, is your fire makyng ready? who tolde hym it was. he aunswered, as it pleaseth god: i am ready soone or late, as it shall please him: and then he spake to one faythfull in that company, & bad him commend him to all the faythfull, beyng sure to meete together with them in heauen. from that tyme to his forth commyng to the fire, spake no man with him. at his forth commyng, the prouost with great manasing wordes forbad him to speake to any man or any to him, as belyke he had commaundement of his superiours. commyng from the towne to the castle hill, the common people sayd, god haue mercy vpon him. and on you to (sayd he). beyng beside the fire he lifted vp his eyn to heauen twise or thrise, and sayd to the people: let it not offend you, that i suffer the death this day, for the truthes sake, for the disciple is not aboue his master. then was the prouost angry that he spake. then looked he to heauen agayne, and sayd: they will not let me speake. the corde beyng about hys necke, the fire was lighted, and so departed he to god constauntly, and with good countenaunce to our sightes. _ex testimonijs & literis e petitis, an. ._" no. xiii. walter myln. the trial and condemnation of this venerable priest has been noticed by all our ecclesiastical historians--including george buchanan, and lindesay of pitscottie. see knox, supra, p. ; calderwood, vol. i. p. ; spottiswood, p. ; howie's scots worthies, &c. the account preserved by foxe, is however the most minute and interesting. in his earlier years myln had travelled in germany, and afterwards became priest of the church of lunan, in angus. information having been laid against him for refusing to say mass in the time of cardinal beaton, he abandoned his cure; but after many years had elapsed, he was taken in the town of dysart, in fife, and carried to st. andrews, where after the trial, as recorded in the following extracts, he was condemned to the flames, on the th april . buchanan, who calls him "a priest of no great learning," erroneously places his death in april . all the authorities concur in describing him as a decrepit old man of eighty-two years of age; but no notice is taken of the circumstance that during the later period of his life, probably while in retirement, he had married; and that his widow survived him many years. this appears from a payment in the accounts of the collector general of thirds of benefices, , when there was paid "to the relict of umquhile walter myln, according to the allowance of the old comptis, £ , s. d." "the martyrdome of the blessed seruaunt of god, walter mille. "among the rest of the martyrs of scotland, the marueilous constancie of walter mille is not to be passed ouer with silence. out of whose ashes sprang thousandes of his opinion and religion in scotland, who altogether chose rather to dye, then to be any longer ouertroden by the tyranny of the foresayd, cruell, ignoraunt, and beastly byshops, abbots, monkes, and friers, and so began the congregation of scotland to debate the true religion of christ agaynst the frenchmen and papistes, who sought alwayes to depresse and keepe downe the same: for it began soon after the martyrdome of walter mille, of the which the forme hereafter followeth. in the yeare of our lord, , in the tyme of mary duches of longawayll queene regent of scotland, and the sayd john hamelton beyng byshop of s. andrewes, and primate of scotland, this walter mille (who in his youth had bene a papist) after that he had bene in almaine, & had heard the doctrine of the gospell, he returned agayne into scotland, and setting aside all papistry and compelled chastitie, maryed a wife, whiche thyng made him vnto the byshops of scotland to be suspected of heresie: and after long watchyng of hym hee was taken by two popishe priestes, one called sir george straqwhen, and the other sir hew turry,[ ] seruauntes to the sayd byshop for the tyme, within the town of dysart in fiffe, and brought to s. andrewes and imprisoned in the castle thereof. he beyng in prison, the papistes earnestly trauailed and laboured to haue seduced him, and threatned him with death and corporall tormentes, to the entent they would cause him to recant and forsake the truth. but seyng they could profit nothyng thereby, and that he remained still firme and constaunt, they laboured to perswade him by fayre promises, and offere vnto hym a monkes portion for all the dayes of his lyfe, in the abbaye of dunfermelyng, so that hee would denye the thynges he had taught, and graunt that they were heresie: but he continuyng in the truth euen vnto the end, despised their threatnynges and fayre promises. then assembled together the byshops of s. andrewes, murray, brechin, caitnes, and atheins, the abbots of dunfermelyng, landors, balindrinot, and cowper, with doctours of theologie of s. andrewes, as john greson blacke frier, and dane john uynrame suppriour of s. andrewes, william cranston provost of the old colledge, with diuers others, as sondry friers black & gray. these being assembled and hauyng consulted together, he was taken out of prison and brought to the metropolitane church where he was put in a pulpit before the bishops to be accused, the . day of aprill. beyng brought vnto the church and climyng vp to the pulpit, they seyng him so weake and feeble of person, partly by age and trauaile, & partly by euill intreatment, that without helpe he could not clime vp, they were in dispayre not to haue heard him for weakenesse of voyce. but when he began to speake, he made the churche to ryng and sounde agayne, with so great courage & stoutnes, that the christians which were present, were no lesse rejoyced, then the aduersaries were confounded and ashamed. he beyng in the pulpit, and on his knees at prayer, sir andrew oliphant one of the byshops priestes, commanded hym to arise and to aunswere to his articles, saying on this manner: sir walter mille, arise and aunswere to the articles, for you hold my lord here ouer long. to whom walter after he had finished his prayer, aunswered saying: we ought to obey god more then men, i serue one more mighty, euen the omnipotent lord: and where you call me sir walter, they call me walter, and not sir walter, i haue bene ouer long one of the pope's knightes. now say what thou hast to say. these were the articles whereof he was accused, with his aunswers vnto the same. oliphant. what thincke you of priestes mariage. mille. i hold it a blessed band, for christ himselfe maintained it, and approued the same, and also made it free to all men: but ye thinke it not free to you: ye abhorre it, and in the meane tyme take other mens wiues and daughters, & will not keepe the bande that god hath made. ye vow chastitie, & breake the same. s. paule had rather marry than burne: the whiche i haue done, for god forbad neuer mariage to any man, of what state or degree so euer he were. oliph. thou sayest there is not vij. sacramentes. mille. geue me the lordes supper and baptisme, and take you the rest, & part them among you: for if there be vij. why haue you omitted one of them, to wit, mariage, & geue your selues to sclaunderous and ungodly whoredome. oliph. thou art agaynst the blessed sacrament of the aultar, and sayest, that the masse is wrong, and is idolatry. mille. a lord or a kyng sendeth & calleth many to a dyner, and when the dyner is in readynesse, he causeth to ryng a bell, and the men come to the hall, and sit downe to be partakers of the dyner, but the lord turnyng his backe vnto them eateth all himselfe, and mocked them: so do ye. oliph. thou denyest the sacrament of the aultar to be the very body of christ really in flesh and bloud. mille. the very scripture of god is not to be taken carnally but spiritually, and standeth in fayth onely: & as for the masse, it is wrong, for christ was once offered on the crosse for mans trespasse, and will neuer be offered agayne, for then he ended all sacrifice. oliph. thou denyest the office of a byshop. mille. i affirme that they whom ye call byshops, do no byshops workes, nor vse the offices of bishops, (as paul byddeth writyng to timothy,) but lyue after their owne sensuall pleasure and take no care of the flocke, nor yet regarde they the word of god, but desire to be honored and called, my lordes. oliph. thou speakest agaynst pilgrimage, and callest it a pilgrimage to whoredome. mille. i affirm that, and say that it is not commanded in the scripture, and that there is no greater whoredome in no places, then at your pilgrimages, except it be in common brothells. oliph. thou preachest quietly and priuatly in houses and openly in the fieldes. mille. yea man, and on the sea also sailyng in shyp. oliph. wilt thou not recant thyne erroneous opinions, and if thou wilt not, i will pronounce sentence agaynst thee. mille. i am accused of my lyfe: i know i must dye once, & therfore as christ said to judas: _quod facis, fac citíus_. ye shall know that i wil not recant the truth, for i am corne, i am no chaffe, i wil not be blowen away with the winde nor burst with the flaile, but i will abyde both. * * * * * these thynges rehearsed they of purpose, with other light trifles, to augment their finall accusation, and then sir andrew oliphant pronounced sentence agaynst him that he should be deliuered to the temporall judge, and punished as an hereticke, which was to be burnt. notwithstandyng his boldnes and constauncie moued so the hartes of many, that the byshop's stuard of his regalitie, prouest of the towne called patrike learmond, refused to be his temporall judge: to whom it appertained if the cause had been just. also the byshop's chamberlaine beyng therewith charged, would in no wise take vppon hym so vngodly an office. yea the whole towne was so offended with his unjust condemnation, that the byshop's seruauntes could not get for their money so much as one cord to tye him to the stake, or a tarre barrell to burne him, but were constrained to cut the cordes of their maistors owne pauillon to serue their turne. neuerthelesse one seruaunt of the byshop's more ignoraunt and cruell then the rest, called alexander symmerwyll, enterprising the office of a temporall judge in that part, conueyed him to the fire, where agaynst all naturall reason of man, his boldnes and hardynes did more & more increase: so that the spirite of god workyng miraculously in hym, made it manifest to the people that his cause and articles were just and he innocently put downe. now when all thynges were ready for his death and he conueyed with armed men to the fire, oliphant bad hym passe to the stake: and he sayd, nay, but wilt thou put me vp with thy hand and take part of my death, thou shalt see me passe vp gladly, for by the law of god i am forbydden to put handes vpon my selfe. then oliphant put him vp with his hand, and he ascended gladly, saying; _introibo ad altare dei_, and desired that he might haue place to speake to the people, the which oliphant and other of the burners denyed, saying that he had spoken ouer much, for the bishops were altogether offended that the matter was so long continued. then some of the young men committed both the burners, & the byshops their maisters to the deuill, saying that they beleued that they should lament that day, and desired the sayd walter to speake what he pleased. and so after he had made his humble supplication to god on his knees, he arose, and standyng vpon the coales sayd on this wise. deare frendes, the cause why i suffer this day is not for any crime layed to my charge (albeit i be a miserable sinner before god) but onely for the defence of the fayth of jesus christ, set forth in the new and old testament vnto vs, for which the as the faythful martyrs haue offered them selues gladly before, beyng assured after the death of their bodyes of eternall felicitie, so this day i prayse god that he hath called me of his mercy among the rest of his seruaunts, to seale vp his truth with my life: which as i haue receaued it of hym, so willingly i offer it to his glory. therfore as you will escape the eternall death, be no more seduced with the lyes of priestes, monkes, friers, priours, abbots, byshops, and the rest of the sect of antichrist, but depend onely vpon jesus christ and his mercy, that ye may be deliuered from condemnation. all that while there was great mournyng and lamentation of the multitude, for they perceiuyng his patience, stoutnes, and boldnes, constancie, and hardynes, were not onely moued and styrred vp, but their hartes also were so inflamed, that hee was the last martyr that dyed in scotland for the religion. after his prayer, he was hoysed vp on the stake, and beyng in the fire, he sayd: lord haue mercy on me: pray people while there is tyme, and so constauntly departed. epitaphium. non nostra impietas aut actæ crimina vitæ armarunt hostes in mea fata truces. sola fides christi sacris signata libellis, quæ vitæ causa est, est mihi causa necis. after this, by the just judgement of god, in the same place where walter mille was burnt, the images of the great church of the abbey, which passed both in number and costlynes, were burnt in tyme of reformation. _ex fideli testimonio è scotia misso._ and thus much concerning such matters as happened, and such martyrs as suffered in the realme of scotland for the faith of christ jesus, and testimony of his truth." the epitaph, quoted in the above extracts from foxe, was written by patrick adamson, who became archbishop of st. andrews. no. xiv. on the title of sir, applied to priests. at this period, in england as well as in scotland, the title of sir was usually applied to priests, obviously derived from the latin _dominus_. but the origin of this application, or rather the peculiar class of the priesthood to whom it was applicable, has not been well defined. it was to distinguish them from persons of civil or military knighthood that they were popularly called pope's knights, and not as some writers have supposed, because the title was conferred on the secular clergy by the bishop of rome. in the account of the trial of walter myln, who was burnt for heresy in , (see this appendix, no. xiii.) it is related, that when his accusers addressed him as "sir walter myln," he answered, "and where you call me sir walter, they call me walter, and not sir walter: _i have been ouer long one of the pope's knightes._" sir david lyndesay says,-- "the pure priest thinkis he gets na richt be he nocht stylit like ane knicht, and callit _schir_ befoir his name, as schir thomas and schir williame." dr. jamieson, in his dictionary, (v. _pope's knights_,) has collected much curious information on this head, but says, he could assign no reason why this designation, "is more frequently given to one called a chapellan than to any other; sometimes to the exclusion of a parson or parish priest, who is mentioned at the same time as maister." the reason for this, perhaps, may be accounted for without much difficulty, if the suggestion should be correct, (as i apprehend it is,) that it denoted the academical rank or degree which had been taken; and was not intended to designate an inferior order of the priesthood. this title of sir was never applied to laymen, and appears to have been given both to the regular and secular clergy, or persons in priests orders who had taken their bachelor's degree; but it was not an academical title in itself. those priests who received the appointment of chaplains, were chiefly persons who, either from want of means or influence, had not been able to prosecute their studies the full time at a university, to obtain the higher rank as master of arts; and therefore the title of sir was given them, but simply to mark the absence of that academical rank, which was long held in great respect, and led to the practice, both among the clergy and laity, until the close of the th century, of signing master before their names. thus, in the present volume, we have _sir_ george clapperton, who was sub-dean of the chapel royal, (p. ,) _sir_ duncan symsoun, (p. ,) and _sir_ william layng, as chaplains, (p. ,) and many others, besides _sir_ john knox, (p. xiv.); and i believe it cannot be shown that any of the persons alluded to had taken the degree of master of arts. on the other hand, ecclesiastics of all ranks, from archbishops and abbots, to friars and vicars, who are known to have done so, are never styled _sir_, but have always _master_ prefixed to their baptismal names, in addition to the titles of their respective offices. for instance, we have maister james beton, who became primate, (p. ,) maister patrick hepburn, prior of st. andrews, (p. ,) maister james beton, archbishop of glasgow, (p. ,) maister david panter, secretary and bishop of ross, (p. ,) and a hundred others, who held different ecclesiastical appointments. in one instance, (see page ,) we find "sir _alias_ mr. john macbrair," from an uncertainty as to his proper designation. on the institution of the college of justice, one half of the judges belonged to the spiritual side; and at the first sederunt, th may , when their names and titles are specified, the churchmen have, with one exception, _magister_ prefixed to their names,--the exception being _dominus_ joannes dingwell, provost of trinity college, near edinburgh. it cannot be said he was so styled from holding any situation in the church inferior to the rectors of eskirk, and finevin, or the provost of dunglass, three of his brethren who then took their seats on the bench as judges. (see note .) the sederunt of the provincial council held at edinburgh, th november , as published by wilkins, vol. iv. p. , exhibits the usual designations and the order of precedency among the dignitaries of the church. they are, after giving archbishop hamilton his titles, ranked under the following heads:--"episcopi.--vicarii generales sedium vacantium.--abbates, priores, et commendatarii.--doctores in theologia, licentiati et bacalaurei.--ordines praedicatorum.--ordines conventualium: ordines s. augustini: ordines sanctissimae trinitatis de redemptione captivorum: ordines carmeletarum." in this list the higher clergy are styled simply william bishop of, &c., quintin abbot of, &c., alexander prior of, &c., william commendator of, &c. among those who had taken degrees in theology, as doctors, licentiates, or bachelors, there are seven with the title of master, and three with f. or _frater_ prefixed to their names. of the preaching friars, there were four, all designed f. or _frater_. the conventual and other orders, included provosts of collegiate churches, deans, archdeacons, subdeacons, rectors, canons, and subpriors; of whom there are fifteen with the title of m. or _magister_, and only six with d. or _dominus_, so usual was it to find that a regular academical course of study was requisite for obtaining promotion in the church, even when the weight of family interest might have been supposed sufficient otherwise to have secured it. * * * * * this opportunity may be taken to add a few explanatory words on the academical designations which so frequently occur in the footnotes to this volume. there is likewise considerable difficulty in defining such titles; and the following explanations may require to be modified. the three universities in scotland founded during the course of the th century, were formed on the model of those of paris and bologna. the general name applied to students of all ranks was _supposita_, or _supposts_; implying that they wore subject to the provost and masters in the university. the _incorporati_ were persons who upon entering the college had taken the oaths, and were matriculated in the registers; but this was not confined to students who first entered upon their studies at college, as it might include persons of advanced life, who had been educated and obtained their degrees at some other university. the usual course extended over four years, and was devoted to the study of philosophy, including rhetoric, dialectics, ethics, and physics. in the middle of the third year, students were allowed to propose themselves as candidates for the degree of bachelor of arts; and for this purpose, those who had completed or _determined_ their course of study, during the _trivium_ or period of three years, obtained the name of _determinantes_; and such as acquitted themselves were confirmed _bachelors_ by the dean of faculty. the _intrantes_ or licentiates were a class farther advanced, and denoted that they were prepared to enter or take their _master's_ degree. for obtaining this a more extended examination took place before they were _laureated_, or received the title of master of arts, which qualified them to lecture or teach the seven liberal arts.--see article universities, in the last edit, of the encyclopædia britannica, vol. xxi.; statuta universitatis oxoniensis; m'crie's life of melville, d edit. vol. ii. p. , _et seq._; and principal lee's introduction to the edinburgh academic annual for . no. xv. on the tumult in edinburgh, at the procession on st. giles's day, . it has not been ascertained in what way st. Ægidius or st. giles became the tutelar saint of our metropolis. regarding the saint himself, as there prevails less diversity of opinion than usual, we may assume that st. giles flourished about the end of the seventh century. according to butler, and other authorities,--"this saint, whose name has been held in great veneration for several ages in france and england, is said to have been an athenian by birth, and of noble extraction. his extraordinary piety and learning, (it is added,) drew the admiration of the world upon him in such a manner, that it was impossible for him to enjoy, in his own country, that obscurity and retirement which was the chief object of his desires on earth." having sailed for france, he spent many years in the wild deserts near the mouth of the rhone, and afterwards in a forest in the diocese of nismes. the bollandists have shewn that this district belonged to the french, towards the beginning of the eighth century when st. giles died; and that his body remained there till the th century: "when, (as we are informed by the anonymous author of 'lives of saints,' printed at london , vols. to.,) "the albigenses being very troublesome in that country, it was thought proper to remove it to toulouse, where it is still kept in st. saturnin's church.... his name occurs on the first of september in the calendars of the english church before the reformation; that, and two antient churches in london, are a sufficient proof of his being known and honoured by our devout ancestors."--(lives, &c. vol. iv. p. .) maitland, the historian of edinburgh, has collected much curious matter connected with the metropolitan church of st. giles; and observes, it is beyond dispute that st. giles's was the first parish church in the city, although he was unable to determine at what time or by whom it was founded. notices of _a parish church_, distinct from the more ancient church of st. cuthbert's, may be traced back to the th or th century; and there exists a charter of david ii., under the great seal, th december , granting the lands of upper merchiston to the chaplain officiating at the altar of st. katherine's chapel in _the parish church_ of st. giles, edinburgh. it is so designed in subsequent deeds, in the years and ; the latter being an indenture for building some additional chapels and vaults in the church. in the following century a great many separate altarages were endowed; and in the year , it was erected by james the third, into a collegiate church, consisting of a provost, a curate, sixteen prebendaries, a sacristan, a minister of the choir, and four choristers. (maitland's hist. p. .) we may easily suppose that the possession of an undoubted relic of the patron saint, would, in those days, be regarded as an inestimable treasure. an obligation granted by the provost and council of edinburgh, to william preston of gortoun, on the th june , is still preserved, and records the fact, that "the arme bane of saint gele, the quhilk bane he left to our mother kirk of saint gele of edinburgh," had been obtained, after long entreaty and considerable expense, through the assistance of the king of france. another historian of our city in referring to this donation, says--"the magistrates of the city, in gratitude for the donation made to their church, granted a charter in favour of the heirs of preston of gortoun, (whose descendants, he adds, are to this hour proprietors of that estate in the county of edinburgh,) entitling the nearest heir of the donor, being of the name of preston, to carry this sacred relique in all processions. the magistrates at the same time, obliged themselves to found in this church an altar, and to appoint a chaplain for celebrating an annual mass of requiem for the soul of the donor; and that a tablet, displaying his arms, and describing his pious donation, should be put up in the chapel. the relique, embossed in silver, was kept among the treasure of the church till the reformation."--(arnot's hist. of edinb. p. .) it was customary on the st of september, the festival day of the patron saint, to have a solemn procession through the streets of edinburgh. a figure of st. giles, carved in wood, the size of life, had hitherto formed a conspicuous object in this procession. in the year , notwithstanding the progress which the reformed opinions had made, it was resolved to celebrate this festival with more than ordinary solemnity; and several persons accused of heresy, instead of being sent to the flames on the castlehill, were reserved to form part of the procession, and to abjure their opinions, while the queen regent was to countenance it with her presence. on such occasions it had been customary to deck the image of the saint. thus in september , the dean of guild paid s. "for paynting of sanct geill;" in , the charge paid to walter bynning for doing this was s. in the accounts of , s. was paid by the dean of guild "for paynting of sanct geill;" and d. for "beiring of him to the painter, and fra;" and, at the same time, "for mending and polishing sanct gelis arme, d.;" and also a sum "to alexander robesoun tailzeour, for mending of sanct gelis capis." but previously to the day of procession in , knox states, that "the images were stollen away in all parts of the countrey; and _in edinburgh was that great idoll called sanct geyle_, first drowned in the north loch, after burnt, which raised _no small trouble_ in the town." sir james balfour in his annals, says, this image "was a grate log of wood or idoll, which the priests called sant geilles." the trouble referred to was no doubt the injunction of the archbishop of st. andrews, to have this image replaced; and various payments by the city treasurer, in - , refer to the appellation by the town of edinburgh against the sentence of archbishop hamilton, obliging the town to have the image of st. giles replaced. from this we may infer that the image had been stolen in the year . knox's account of the tumult that ensued is by far the most minute and amusing: see pages - . bishop lesley is much more concise. after mentioning the circumstance that several persons had been accused of heresy at a convocation or provincial council of the whole prelates and clergy assembled at edinburgh, at the end of july, he adds--"bot nane was executed or punished in thair bodeis, bot ordanit to abjure thair errouris at the mercatt croce of edinburgh, apoun sainct gelis day, the first of september; bot thair was so gret a tumult rased that day on the hie street of edinburgh, that thay quha was appointed to do open pennance war suddantlie careid away, and the haill processioun of the clergie disperced; the image of sanct geill being borne in processione, was taikin perforce fra the beraris thairof, brokin and distroyed; quhairwith the quene regent was heichlie offendit; and for stanchinge of the lyk trouble in tyme cuming, she appointed the lorde setoun to be provest of the toun of edinburgh, quha keped the same in resonable guid ordour quhill the nixt symmer thaireftir."--(history, p. .) saint geill, however, never recovered from his degradation on that day: and in june , the magistrates directed the portraiture of the saint, which had served as their emblem, to be cut out of the city standard, _as an idol_, and a thistle to be inserted, "emblematical (as a recent writer remarks) of rude reform, but leaving the hind which accompanied st. giles, as one of the heraldic supporters of the city arms."--(caledonia, vol. ii. p. .) the jewels, silver-work, vestments, and other articles belonging to the church of st. giles, were sold by authority of the magistrates, in , as will be taken notice of in a subsequent volume. no. xvi. provincial councils in scotland, in - . respecting the meetings of the provincial councils in scotland before the reformation, it may be sufficient in this place to refer to the well known tract by sir david dalrymple, lord hailes, entitled "historical memorials concerning the provincial councils of the scottish clergy, from the earliest accounts to the area of the reformation." edinb. , to. it is reprinted in the d edition of his annals of scotland, vol. iii. pp. - , edinb. , vols. vo. the reader may also consult with advantage, dr. m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. pp. , , , &c.; and bishop keith's history, vol. i. p. , &c. no. xvii. letter of mary queen of scots to lord james prior of the monastery of st. andrews. july . calderwood, when noticing the arrival of the sieur de bethancourt in scotland, speaks of his bringing "forged letters" to lord james stewart; but the whole of his account (vol. i. p. ,) was evidently derived from knox, but whose words are, "with letteris, as was allegit:" see supra, page . spottiswood, on the other hand, throws no doubt on their genuineness, but says the bearer was monsieur crock; and he inserts (hist. p. ,) a different version of that of francis the second, from the one which knox has given, and also the following letter, of which knox, at page , only makes mention to quote the concluding phrase. "the letter (says spottiswood) sent by the queen, was of the tenor following:-- "mary, queen of scotland and france, to james prior of the monasterie of s. andrewes. "i cannot, my cousin, wonder enough, how you that are nighest us in bloud, and greatly benefitted by our liberality, as yourself knoweth, should be so presumptuous and wickedly disposed, as by one and the same fact to violate the majesty of god and the authority belonging to me and my husband; for to me it is a wonder that you, who being with me did complain of the duke of chattellerault, and divers others for dismissing my authority, should now be the leader of a faction in matters of greatest weight, wherein not only the honour of god is touched, but my authority all utterly taken away: which i would have more easily believed of any other of my subjects than of you, for i had a speciall hope of your fidelity, and am not a little grieved that you should have deceived me; though yet i can scarse be perswaded, that you are gone so far from truth and reason, as to be carried away with such blinde errours which i wish were not, as any in the world else, beseeching god to illuminate you with his light, that returning into the right way you may shew your self (by doing things contrary to that you have already performed) a good man, and obedient to our lawes; whereof by these letters i thought good to admonish you, and withall earnestly to intreat you to amend your by-gone faults, with better deeds in time coming; that the anger which i and my husband have conceived against you, may by that means be mitigated. otherwise i would have you understand, that we will take such punishment of you, that you shall ever remember us, which shall be to me a most grievous thing. god i beseech to keep you from all danger. _paris the . of july, ._" no. xviii. david forrest, general of the mint. david forrest, general of the mint, was probably a native of east-lothian. his name first occurs in , as entertaining george wishart, in his house in the town of haddington. knox speaks of him, when mentioning this circumstance, as "ane man that long hes professed the truth," (p. .) he had retired to england soon afterwards, as sir ralph sadler, when noticing that forrest had come to england, along with william maitland of lethington, and mr. henry balnaves, in november , he adds,--"who departed out of england in the beginning of the reign of queen mary for cause of religion, and now retuurneth agayn because of these troubles in scotland, as he sayeth."--(letters, vol. i. p. .) after the reformation, when the want of qualified persons for the ministry was deeply felt, forrest was one of several laymen, who, from having previously given proofs of their sincere zeal and piety, were nominated at the first general assembly, in december , as "thought apt and able to minister." on the d july , david forrest was specially requested by the assembly "to tak on the ministerie." on the next day, his answer to that request "was referred to the superintendent of lothian and kirk of edinburgh." again, on the th december , "david forrest, notwithstanding he objected his owne inabilitie, was charged by the whole assemblie, as he would avoide disobedience to their voices, without farther delay, to addresse himself to enter in the ministerie, where he salbe appointed, seeing it was knowen sufficientlie that he was able for that function."--(booke of the universall kirk, vol. i. pp. , , .) although forrest did not comply with this injunction, he continued to be a member of assembly for several years, and was named on committees "for the decision of questions," and for other matters. his promotion as general of the mint may possibly have had its influence in his refusing to take upon himself the office of the ministry. he appears to have long been connected with the mint. in the treasurer's accounts, june - , david forres is styled "magister cone;" but he must have been superseded, as the office of "maister cunzeour," was filled by john achesoun, from at least to . but forrest again appears in - ; and for several years, (between and ,) we find monthly payments in the treasurer's accounts to the principal officers of the mint, viz., to david forrest, general of the cunzie-house, £ , s. andrew henderson, wardane, £ , s. d. maister john balfour, comptar wardane, £ , s. d., (who, in october , was succeeded by david adamesoun, with the same monthly fee or salary of £ , s. d.) james mosman, assayer, (succeeded in april , by thomas achesoun,) £ , s. d. and james gray, sinckar of the irnis, £ , with an additional sum, "for brisseling, grynding, neilling, and tempering the irnis," of £ , s. d. in the treasurer's accounts , we also find that different sums were allowed us "feis extraordinar" to most of these officials, for services rendered "in the tyme of troubill." footnotes [ ] that lord torphichen's picture at calder house is a portrait of knox, cannot be doubted, and it may have been copied from an older painting; but at best it is a harsh and disagreeable likeness, painted at least a century after knox's death. it was engraved for dr. m'crie's work; and, on a large scale, there is a most careful engraving of it, by a very ingenious and modest artist, mr. william penny of mid-calder. [ ] the ornamented border in the original is very rudely cut: here it is given only in outline. a french translation of beza's volume appeared in , with several additional portraits; but it is somewhat remarkable that a totally different portrait should have been substituted in place of that of knox. this, i think, may be explained, from the circumstance of the original cut having been either injured or lost; and not from the other exhibiting a more correct likeness of the scotish reformer. from its marked resemblance, i am convinced, that the portrait substituted was intended for william tyndale.--when the engraved pseudo-portraits of knox are brought together, it is quite ludicrous to compare the diversity of character which they exhibit. besides the ordinary likeness, with the long flowing beard, copied from bad engravings to worse, we have the holyrood one, not unworthy of holbein, of a mathematician, with a pair of compasses; the head at hamilton palace, which might serve for the hermit of copmanhurst; and others that would be no unsuitable illustrations to any account of the fools and jesters entertained at the scotish court. [ ] i state this from having lent him verheiden's work, for the purpose of his copying knox's portrait. perhaps the fine arts sustained by the death of this eminent painter, no greater loss than in his leaving unfinished the most exquisite design of "knox dispensing the sacrament," which, in its half-finished state, has fortunately been secured by the royal scotish academy. his previous painting of "knox preaching to the lords of the congregation," is sadly disfigured by the extravagant action and expression of the reformer. [ ] this ms. when rebound, at some early time, was unfortunately too much cut in the edges. its present ragged state suggested a minute examination, which shows that the volume consists of seventeen sets or quires, each of them, with two exceptions, having twenty-two or twenty-four leaves. six of those quires, judging from the hand-writing and the colour of the ink, were apparently written somewhat later than the rest:--viz., the th set, fol. - ; the th and th, fol. - ; the th, fol. - ; the th, fol. - ; and the last set, fol. to the end. what renders this the more evident is, that while the first page of each set runs on continuously from the previous page, as if there was no interruption, the catchword on the last page of these rewritten sets or quires, often stops in the middle of the page, or the beginning of a line, leaving the rest blank, owing to the style of writing, or the matter contained in these sets having varied from those which they had replaced. [ ] the following is the title of a work on the harmony of the gospels, with a fac-simile of the signature referred to: "in nomine dnj. nostrj jesu chrj anno salutis humanæ . contextus historiæ euangelicæ secundum tres euangelistas mat. mar. et lucam.--septembris ." [ ] app. no. vi. pp. - . lond. , vo. nicolson, in giving some account of the history, considers the question of the authorship, which was then reckoned doubtful, and referring particularly to the glasgow manuscript, he says, it "was lately presented to the college by mr. robert fleming, a late preacher at rotterdam, now at london, mr. knox's great-grandchild; who having several of his said ancestor's papers in his hand, pretends to assure them, that this very book is penn'd by the person whose name it commonly bears. for the better proof of this matter he sends them the preface of another book, written in the same hand, wherein are these words:--'_in nomine domini nostri jesu christi, &c., septembris_ ^o, m. jo. knox, _august_ , _a_^o .' there might indeed have been some strength in this evidence, were we not assur'd that the famed knox dy'd in ; so that nothing could be written by him in . there was one mr. john knox, who was moderator of the synod of merse in ; who perhaps is mr. fleming's true ancestor, as well as the transcriber of this book, and might be one of the assistants in the revising of it."--(ib. p. .) these remarks gave considerable offence to fleming, who answers them, at some length, but without throwing any new light on the subject, in the preface to his "practical discourse on the death of king william iii. &c.," p. xii; lond. , vo. fleming was not a descendant of knox. it is indeed true that his grandfather married knox's daughter; but his father was the issue of a subsequent marriage. these facts are plainly stated in a letter from r. fleming to wodrow, dated at london, on the th of june . [ ] in the footnotes, the errors and mistakes in vautrollier's edition are occasionally pointed out. a sample of them may here be brought together:-- p. . aue hes tuit aue spurtill. . priests of whordome--trystis of whoredome. . andrewe balsone--balfour. . baltlewich, lyniltquilk, lemax--balcleueh, lynlithgow, levenax. . the time thereof--the teind thereof. . paying such losses--paying such teinds. . earle of gleuearne--earle of glencarne. . appoints--oppones. . the cardinal skipped--the cardinal scripped. . taken from--given to. . inversion--intercession. . entracted--entreated. . enduer him--cummer him. . receiving of limes and staues--receiving of lime and stanes. _ib._ in great number--in no great number. . cryed i am leslie a priest--cryed, i am a priest. . the queen's daughter--the queen dowager. . langundrie--langnidrie. . the gouernoures--the gunnar's. . should be--should not be. . scotish preachers--scotish prikers. . scarcenesse--scarmishing. . some drunken beare, which laye in the saudes chappell and church--some drynkin bear, which lay in the syidis chappell and kirk. . were pressed--were not pressed. . silbard--sibbald. . and for his other william--and for his other villany. . lordes maxwell flying--lords maxwell, fleming. . wilbock--willock. . meruses--mernes. . hearie--harie. . according to comely and common lawes--according to the civile and cannon lawes. . auow your graces hart--move your graces heart. . ancheddirdour--auchterarder. . should be--should not be. . estates of our religion--estates of our realme. [ ] see "areopagitica; a speech of mr. john milton for the liberty of unlicens'd printing," addressed to the parliament of england, london, , to. in arguing against the abuses committed by licensers of the press, he says, "nay, which is more lamentable, if the work of any deceased author, though never so famous in his lifetime, and even to this day, come to their hands for license to be printed or reprinted, if there be found in his book one sentence of a venturous edge, uttered in the height of zeal, (and who knows whether it might not be the dictate of a divine spirit,) yet, not suiting with every low decrepit humour of their own, though it were knox himself, the reformer of a kingdom, that spake it, they will not pardon him their dash: the sense of that great man shall to all posterity be lost for the fearfulness, or the presumptuous rashnesse of a prefunctory licenser. and to what an author this violence hath bin lately done, and in what book of greatest consequence to be faithfully publisht, i could now instance, but shall forbear till a more convenient season."--(page .) [ ] in following the ms. of , i have discarded all contractions, and generally avoided the old form of using _u_ and _w_ for _v_, or _v_ for _u_; _i_ for _j_. in order to avoid distracting the attention of an ordinary reader, such words in the ms. as _hie_ for _he_, _on_ for _one_, _cane_ for _can_, _don_ for _done_, are printed in the usual form; but indeed the orthography of the ms. is very irregular, and might have justified much greater innovations. [ ] this preface is not contained in either of the editions by david buchanan of the history printed in . [ ] in ms. g, "cloude." [ ] in ms. i, "whairby idolatrie." [ ] in ms. g, "eyis." [ ] ib. [ ] in the ms. "trawalled." [ ] that is, the year . [ ] mary queen of scots arrived from france on the th of august . [ ] the author's original intention, as here stated, was, that the history should merely embrace the limited period from to . that portion was probably revised and enlarged, to form books second and third, when this introductory book was added in . [ ] this phrase was not uncommon: see page . but ms. i. makes it, "some faythfull brethrene, concerning that which was thought." [ ] that is, the civil policy. [ ] in the ms. "wane." [ ] this title occurs as a marginal note in the ms. [ ] in the ms. it was originally written "mentioun of one n.," the words, "whais name is not expressed," being afterwards added on the margin. the letter n., it may be observed, was an abbreviation of _non nemo_, i.e. _aliquis_, or somebody, a mode adopted from the canon law, when the name of a person was not ascertained. [ ] from the collation of david buchanan's text, it will be seen that he has here inserted the words "one whose name was james resby, an englishman by birth, schollar to wickliff: he was accused as a hereticke, by one laurence lindores," &c. buchanan overlooks the circumstance that resby suffered martyrdom at perth, fifteen years before the person referred to by knox. see appendix, no. i., "interpolations in knox's history by david buchanan."--in the appendix, no. ii., some notices will be given of resby and other lollards in scotland, during the th century. [ ] bower, the continuator of fordun, calls him paul crawar, and fixes the date of his execution on the d of july . (see appendix no. ii.) [ ] in mss. g, a, &c., "a bohemian." [ ] in the ms. "wach." [ ] robert blackader, on the th of june , was styled prebendary of cardross, in the cathedral church of glasgow, (registrum episcopatus glasguenis, p. .) on the d of that month, he sat among the lords of council, as bishop elect of aberdeen, which seems to discredit the statement of keith and other writers, of his having been consecrated at rome by pope sixtus iv., upon the death of bishop spens. (registrum episcopatus aberdonensis, mr. innes's preface, page xlii. note.) blackader, however, was much employed in public negotiations with england and other countries. he was translated to the see of glasgow, previously to february ; and during his episcopate, that see was erected into an archbishopric. as stated in a following page, blackader died on the th of july . see page . [ ] the shire of ayr in former times was locally divided into the three districts of carrick, kyle, and cunningham; and those districts are still retained, but without any political or judicial distinction. kyle was the central district, between the rivers doon and irvine; and was subdivided into two sections, by the river ayr, king's-kyle lying on the south, and kyle-stewart on the north of the river.--(chalmers's caledonia, vol. iii. p. .) [ ] in the ms., a blank space had been left for these names, which were apparently added at a somewhat later period.--the escape of john campbell of cesnock at this time is taken notice of by alexander alesius in his letter to james fifth, see appendix no. ii. [ ] mure of polkellie, the title of _lady_ being given by courtesy.--from a detailed genealogical account of the family of chalmers of gadgirth in ayrshire, inserted in the appendix to nisbet's heraldry, vol. i., we find that john chalmers, in a charter dated , was styled son and heir of sir john chalmers of galdgirth; and that one of his daughters, margaret, was married to george campbell of cesnock; and another, helen, to robert mure of polkellie. a third daughter is mentioned in the following note. [ ] the baptismal name of lady stair is left blank in the ms., and calderwood, who copied from knox, inserted the letter n., to indicate this; while david buchanan supplied the name of isabella. on the supposition that knox himself had so written it, professor forbes, in noticing the lord president stair's descent from one of the lollards of kyle, says, "the historian hath mistaken the lady's name; for, by writings in the earl of stair's hand, it appears she was called marion chalmers, daughter to mr. john chalmers of gadgirth, whose good family was very steady in the matters of religion."--(journal of decisions, &c., p. , edinb. , folio.)--on the other hand, in the pedigree of the gadgirth family, in nisbet, william dalrymple of stair is said to have married isabella chalmers. [ ] this "register," and "the scrollis" referred to in the former page, were probably the court-books of the official of glasgow, an office usually held by one of the canons of the diocese. but no registers of the kind are known to be preserved. [ ] the additions to articles , , , , and , included within a parenthesis, are evidently comments by knox. [ ] in mss. g, a, &c., "bread." [ ] that is, to judge in matters of divine worship. [ ] vautroullier's suppressed edition of the history commences, on sign. b., page , with those three words. the previous sheet, or pages, containing the title and preface, had no doubt been set up, but the sheet may have been either delayed at press till the volume was completed, or all the copies carried off and destroyed when the book was prohibited. [ ] in vautr. edit., and mss. g, a, &c., "doubtfully spoken." [ ] in this place, the ms. has "basqueming," and vautroullier's edition makes it "adam reade of blaspheming."--adam reid of stair-white, or barskyming, the representative of an ancient family in ayrshire, probably accompanied james the fourth, in his first voyage to the western isles, in july . he obtained two charters, under the great seal, of the king's fortress of ardcardane, and some lands near tarbert, in north kintyre, dated th september , and th august , in which he is designated "adam rede de sterquhite." the service annexed to the first grant included the maintenance of six archers sufficiently provided with bows and arrows, upon occasion of the king's curbing the inhabitants of the isles, who had long set the royal authority at defiance: "neenon sustentando sex homines defensivos architenentes, cum arcubus et sagittis bene suffultos, ad serviendum regi, et successoribus suis, in guerris si quas reges in insulis contra inhabitantes carundem habere contigerit, cum dictus adam vel hæredes sui ad hoc requisitus fuerit." [ ] for "shut up;" in vautr. edit., and mss. g, a, &c., "set up." [ ] the erroneous date of occurs in the ms. and in all the subsequent copies; it is also repeated by spotiswood. the actual time of his decease is thus recorded,--"obitus roberti blacader primi archiepiscopi glasguensis, vigesimo octavo die julij a.d. ."--(regist. episcop. glasg., vol. ii. p. .) the place where blackader died is not ascertained; but bishop lesley confirms knox's statement, that he had set out on a pilgrimage to the holy land. "scotia discedit, paucis post diebus, episcopus glasgoensis, robertus blacaderus pio studio illa loca (quæ christi vestigiis trita, aliisque humilitatis, virtutisque monumentis illustrata erant) invisendi flagrans hierosolymitana profectione suscepta; sed mortis impetu præclusa, ad coelites in itinere migravit."--(de rebus gestis, &c., p. , romæ, , to.) in his english history, lesley mentions this more briefly, "about this time, [ th of july ,] the bishop of glasgow, quha wes passit to jerusalem, or he com to the end of his journay, deceissit the xxix [ th] day of july. he was ane noble, wyse, and godlie man."--(hist. p. , edinb. , to.) [ ] the truth of this remark is very evident, as beaton, along with his high civil and ecclesiastical appointments, held several great church benefices. he was the youngest son of john beaton of balfour, and was educated at st. andrew's. in , the name "ja. betone" occurs among the _intrantes_; in , among the _determinantes_; and in , as a licentiate, he took the degree of master of arts. in october , maister james betoun was presented to the chantry of cathness, vacant by the decease of mr. james auchinleck.--(bannatyne miscellany, vol. ii. p. .) in , he was provost of the collegiate church of bothwell, and prior of whithorn. in , he was abbot of dunfermline, and a lord of the session. in the following year he succeeded his brother as lord treasurer. in , he was raised to the see of galloway; and within twelve months having been translated to glasgow, as successor to blackader, he resigned the office of treasurer. in the rolls of parliament, th november , the archbishop of glasgow appears as chancellor of the kingdom; and he secured to himself the rich abbacies of arbroath and kilwinning. on succeeding to the primacy of s. andrew's, in , he resigned the commendatory of arbroath in favour of his nephew david beaton, with the reservation to himself of half its revenues during his life. in a letter to cardinal wolsey, dr. magnus the english ambassador, on the th of january - , after referring to the archbishop of st. andrews, as "the gretteste man booth of landes and experience withyne this realme," speaks of beaton as "nooted to be veraye subtill and dissymuling."--(state papers, vol. iv. p. .) but with all his dignities and wealth, he experienced occasional reverses of fortune; and in , upon a change in public affairs, he was deprived of the office of lord chancellor. he died in . [ ] on the th of september . [ ] in the preface to lambert's "exegeseos in sanctam diui ioannis apocalypsim, libri vii." the passage will be given in the appendix, no. iii. [ ] this reference to the well known "actes and monumentes" of john foxe, the english martyrologist, has more than once been pointed out as an anachronism. thus, spottiswood asserts, that foxe's work "came not to light [till] some ten or twelve years after mr. knox his death," (p. ,) and concludes, that "the history given forth in his name was not of his inditing." but knox's phrase, "laitlie sett furth," is quite applicable to the first publication of foxe's martyrology; as there is no reason to doubt that knox wrote this portion of his history in , and it is certain that foxe's "actes and monumentes," &c., printed at london by john daye, was completed in the beginning of , in large folio. in this edition there is an account of patrick hamilton, which (with some other notices) will be given verbatim in the appendix, no. iii. foxe's martyrology was again printed by daye, "newly recognized by the author," in , vols. folio; a third time in ; and a fourth (being probably the earliest edition of which spottiswood had any knowledge) in . [ ] hamilton was merely titular abbot of ferne, and was not in holy orders. his predecessor, andrew stewart, was bishop of caithness, and commendator of the two abbeys of kelso and ferne. he died th june ; and the latter benefice was probably then conferred on hamilton. ferne is a parish in the eastern part of the shire of ross. the abbey was founded by farquhard first earl of ross, in the reign of alexander the third. the church, built or completed by william earl of ross, who died in , was a handsome structure of about feet in length, with chapels on the north and on the south sides. it continued to be used as the parish church till sunday the th of october , when, during public service, the flagstone roof, and part of the side walls fell in, and killed persons, besides others who died in consequence of the injuries they sustained.--(scots magazine, , p. .) at a later period ( ), the centre part of the church of ferne, but reduced in its length, was repaired, with a new roof, and still serves as the parish church. unless for some ruined portions of the side chapels attached to the eastern end of the church, which were suffered to remain, all marks of its venerable antiquity have now disappeared. [ ] it was at marburg, the capital of upper hesse, and not at wittemberg, where lambert was professor. [ ] in the ms. "trawailled." the letters _w_ and _v_ are used indiscriminately by knox's amanuensis. [ ] this statement, we presume, is incorrect, as there is no evidence to show that james the fifth visited the shrine of st. duthac at this time. lesley speaks of the king dealing with hamilton, which implies at least a knowledge of his accusation, "adhortante rege ipso."--(de rebus gestis, &c., p. .) the chapel of st. duthac, bishop of ross, now in ruins, is situated about half a mile to the north-east of the town of tain. in the appendix no. iv. will be given various extracts from the treasurer's accounts relating to the frequent pilgrimages which james the fourth made to this shrine, as illustrative of a superstitious custom of that period. [ ] in the ms. "lief." [ ] see page . [ ] gilbert kennedy third earl of cassilis. he was probably only at st. andrews for one session; as his name does not occur in the registers of the university. in , he was at paris, pursuing his studies under george buchanan, who dedicated to him his first edition of linacre's latin grammar. lord cassilis was one of the prisoners taken at solway moss in . as knox afterwards mentions, he died at dieppe in . [ ] the university of st. andrews, founded by bishop wardlaw in the year , was confirmed by papal authority in . its endowments, however, continued to be very limited, until st. salvator's college was erected and endowed in by james kennedy, his successor in the see. at this time it received the name of the old college, to distinguish it from that of st. leonard's college, created in , and st. mary's, in . [ ] in vautr. edit., and mss. g, a, &c., "scorched." [ ] lindesay of pitscottie, (_circa_ ,) in his detailed account of hamilton's condemnation, after narrating the martyr's last speeches, and his solemn appeal to campbell, proceeds,--"then they laid to the fire to him; but it would no ways burn nor kindle a long while. then a baxtar, called myrtoun, ran and brought his arms full of straw, and cast it in to kindle the fire: but there came such a blast of wind from the east forth of the sea, and raised the fire so vehemently, that it blew upon the frier that accused him, that it dang him to the earth, and brunt all the fore part of his coul; and put him in such a fray, that he never came to his right spirits again, but wandered about the space of forty days, and then departed."--(edit. , p. ; edit. , p. .) pitscottie gives the false date of september . this writer indeed is often very inaccurate in names and dates; but his details were evidently derived from some contemporary authority. [ ] foxe, and other authorities, state that campbell was prior of the dominican or blackfriars monastery, st. andrews. [ ] according to modern computation, the year . [ ] foxe, in republishing his "actes and monumentes," among other additions, has the following paragraph:--"but to return to the matter of master hamelton; here is, moreover, to be observed, as a note worthy of memory, that in the year of our lord , in which year this present history was collected in scotland, there were certain faithful men of credit then alive, who being present the same time when master patrick hamelton was in the fire, heard him to cite and appeal the black friar called campbell, that accused him, to appear before the high god, as general judge of all men, to answer to the innocency of his death, and whether his accusation was just or not, between that and a certain day of the next month, which he then named. moreover, by the same witness it is testified, that the said friar had immediately before the said day come, without remorse of conscience, that he had persecuted the innocent; by the example whereof divers of the people, the same time much mused, and firmly believed the doctrine of the aforesaid master hamelton to be good and just."--(third edit. p. , lond. , folio.) [ ] in vautr. edit. "true fruites;" in mss. g, &c., "trow fruittis." [ ] the above title, and fryth's preface are not contained in knox's ms., but are inserted from foxe's martyrology, p. , d edit., lond. . [ ] this evidently refers to archbishop beaton; but he had previously been deprived of the chancellorship: see note, page . [ ] hamilton's treatise was probably printed as an academical dissertation, whilst he was at marburg, in . it in uncertain whether fryth's translation was published during his own life. there are at least three early editions, with this title, "dyvers frutefull gatherynges of scripture: and declaryng of fayth and workes." one was printed at london by thomas godfray, and two others by william copland, each of them without a date, but probably before .--(dibdin's typogr. antiq., vol. iii. pp. , , .) in - , michael lobley, a printer in st. paul's churchyard, had license to print "the sermonde in the wall, thereunto annexed, the common place of patryk hamylton."--(ib., p. .) foxe's copy of this treatise differs from the present in a number of minute particulars, which would occupy too much space to point out. [ ] john fryth, as the reward of his zeal in the cause of religion, was confined to the tower, in , and was brought to the stake, at smithfield, on the th of july .--(see the rev. chr. anderson's annals of the english bible, vol. i. pp. - .) [ ] this title, with the numbers of the propositions, and the words included within brackets, are supplied from foxe. also a few trifling corrections in the orthography. [ ] these propositions are put in a syllogistic form; but the terms _major_, _minor_, and _conclusion_, marked on the margin of foxe's copy, except in one or two instances at the beginning, are not contained in knox's ms. such as are marked, being incorrectly given by his transcriber, as well as in vautr. edit., are here omitted. [ ] in vautr. edit. and mss. e, a, and i, is this marginal note--"this is to be understood of circumstance of worldlie men, and not of them of god; for the neirer that men draw to god, we ar bound the more to love them." also a similar note to page , prop. iv., "christ is the ende and fulfillinge of the lawe to everie one that beleveth." [ ] foxe has given this sentence more correctly:--"now, seying he hath payed thy dette, thou needest, neither canst thou pay it, but shouldest bee damned, if hys bloud were not." [ ] in republishing his "actes and monumentes," foxe, along with fryth's translation of "patrick hamilton's places," has subjoined "certaine brief notes or declarations upon the foresayd places of m. patrike." he says, "this little treatise of m. patrike's places, albeit in quantitie it be but short, yet in effect it comprehendeth matter able to fill large volumes, declaryng to us the true doctrine of the law, of the gospell, of fayth, and of workes, with the nature and properties, and also the difference of the same." but foxe's notes are too long to be here inserted, and they have several times been reprinted. [ ] gawin logye, under whom so many of the early reformers had prosecuted their studies, was educated at st. andrews, and took his degree of master of arts in . in , "gavinus logye" was "regens coll. sancti leonardi de novo fundati." in the "acta fac. art.," his name occurs as principal of that college in . calderwood says, that in the year , logye "was forced to flee out of the countrie," (vol. i. p. .) this date is certainly erroneous. at the election of martin balfour, as dean of faculty, "mag^r. gavinus logye," principal of st. leonard's college, was appointed one of his assessors, on the d of november . he probably fled before the close of the year ; but of his subsequent history no particulars have been discovered. logye's immediate successor was "dominus thomas cunnynghame," whose name first occurs as principal regent, on the d of november . [ ] in ms. g, "novittis;" in other mss., and in vautr. edit., "novices." [ ] probably john wynrame, see note . [ ] in vautr. edit., "william archbishop," and also in mss. a, i, and w. in ms. e, "william arth." in ms. g, "william arithe." [ ] john hepburn, bishop of brechin, was descended of the hepburns of bothwell. he held this see from , for upwards of forty years, till his death in august .--(keith's catal.) [ ] best known by his latin name major. he was a native of haddington, and spent many years on the continent, where he acquired great reputation by his numerous works, and became a doctor of the sorbonne. after his return to scotland, he was for a short time ( - ) principal regent in the college of glasgow, where knox himself was his pupil. he was at this time vicar of dunlop; and treasurer of the chapel royal at stirling. in , he was incorporated in the university of st. andrews; and became provost of st. salvator's college; an office which he held till his death in . see m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. pp. , ; and irving's life of buchanan, pp. , . [ ] george lockhart, provost of the collegiate church of crichton, in mid-lothian, was rector of the university of st. andrews, from to . he was the author of more than one work, printed at paris, on dialectic philosophy. he afterwards was dean of glasgow, where he died on the d of june .--(obituary in the registrum episcopatus glasguensis, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] the abbot of cambuskenneth, alexander myln, was appointed first president of the college of justice in . in , alexander myl, was a determinant at st. andrews. in , he was official of dunkeld, and in that year he wrote a latin work, lives of the bishops of dunkeld, first printed in , for the bannatyne club. in brunton and haig's historical account of the senators, a very accurate notice is given of his several preferments in the church. myln, who died about the close of the year , is acknowledged to have been a man of great accomplishments, and to have displayed a most commendable zeal for religion and learning. [ ] in the year , on the death of his uncle, john hepburn, prior of the metropolitan church of st. andrews, patrick hepburn succeeded; and held the priorate till , when advanced to the see of moray. see note . [ ] the scotish parliament passed an act on the subject, on the th of june , in which the cause of this disregard of the censures of the church is mainly attributed to "the dampnable persuasions of heretikis, and thair perversit doctrine," which, it is added, "gevis occasioun to lichtly (or despise) the process of cursing, and uther censures of haly kirk."--(acta parl. vol. ii. p. ; keith's hist., vol. i. p. .) there is a singular production by one of the early scotish poets, a priest named sir john rowll, called his cursing, which exemplifies the abuses to which this process was perverted. it was written between and , and is directed chiefly against the stealers, among other articles, of fyve fat geiss of sir johne rowllis, with caponis, hennis, and uther fowlis; but it also contains a general invective against persons who defraud the clergy of their tythes or dues. the following entries in the treasurer's books, shew that ecclesiastical persons were not exempted from such censures:-- "item, the thrid day of november [ ], to sir johne smyth, notare, to pass to execut the process upon the abbot of melross, and prioress of eccles, for non payment of thair taxt,. xl. s. "item, the first day of junij [ ], to ane cheplane to pass to curss the prioress of north berwick and eccles, for non payment of thair taxtis,. xx. s." [ ] in ms. a, &c., "canon law." [ ] in ms. g, "kirkmen."--the church of rome, however, always performed the ceremony of depriving a priest of his holy orders, before being handed over to the secular authorities for punishment; "because (in the words of a modern writer) she was too watchful over the immunities of the privileged order of priests, to deliver them up to temporal jurisdiction, till stripped of the sacerdotal character, and _degraded_ to the situation of laymen." (dowling's history of romanism, p. , new york, , vo.) [ ] the abbot of unreason in scotland, was a similar character to the lord of misrule in england. "this pageant potentate," as stowe calls him, "was annually elected, and his rule extended through the greater part of the holydays conected with the festival days of christmas." but these "fine and subtle disguisings, masks, and mummeries," too often degenerated into abuse, as indeed was to be expected, when such pastimes had for their object to turn all lawful authority into ridicule, and more particularly to burlesque the services of the church. on such occasions, "the rude vulgar occupied the churches, profaned the holy places by a mock imitation of the sacred rites, and sung indecent parodies of the hymns of the church;" and the lively representation of a scene of this kind is familiar to most readers, in a well known work of fiction, "the abbot." part of sir walter scott's comment on his own description may be here quoted:--"the indifference of the clergy, even when their power was greatest, to the indecent exhibitions, which they always tolerated, and sometimes encouraged, forms a strong contrast to the sensitiveness with which they regarded any serious attempt, by preaching or writing, to impeach any of the doctrines of the church."--(waverley novels.) [ ] patrick hepburn, son to patrick first earl of bothwell, was educated at st. andrews, under his uncle, john hepburn, prior of st. andrews, whom he succeeded in . he was secretary from to . in , he was advanced to the see of moray, and was likewise commendator of scone. he retained his bishopric after the reformation; and died at his palace and castle of spynic on the th of june . [ ] knox has been blamed for recording this "merry bourd" or jest; but bishop hepburn had rendered himself notorious by his profligacy. this indeed appears on the face of the public records. under the great seal there passed the following letters of legitimation;--( .) "johanni et patricio hepburn, bastardis filiis naturalibus patricii prioris sancti andreæ." dec. .--also, ( .) "legitimatio adami, patricii, georgii, johannis, et patricii hepburn, bastardorum filiorum naturalium patricii episcopi moraviensis." oct. . and, ( .) "legitimatio jonetæ et agnetis hepburn, bastardarum filiorum naturalium patricii moraviensis episcopi." maij . here are no less than nine illegitimate children, evidently by different mothers. ( .) agnes hepburn, another daughter of the late patrick bishop of murray, was also legitimated on th feb. . [ ] in ms. g, "he was imprisonit." [ ] according to spotiswood, (hist. p. ,) these words were spoken at the time when henry forrest was to be burnt for heresy. see note . [ ] in vautr. edit., "dungwaill." in ms. g, "dungwell."--sir john dingwall was a priest, and evidently a person of some note. on the th of august , his name occurs in the treasurer's accounts, when s. d. was paid to "ane child to bring the auld (service?) bookis out of edinburgh fra sir johne dingwall to dundie." john dingwall, archdeacon of caithness, was one of the auditors who signs the treasurer's accounts, in october . in two charters under the great seal, th september, and th november , he is designed archdeacon of caithness, and rector of strabrok, in linlithgowshire. in another charter, th april , he is styled "dominus johannes dingwall præpositus ecclesim collegiatæ sanctre trinitatis prope burgum de edinburgh." having been nominated one of the spiritual lords at the institution of the college of justice, on the th of may , at the first meeting of the court, he took his seat under the title of provost of trinity college. but he did not long enjoy his judicial office, as he died before the th of july .--(brunton and haig's senators of the college of justice, p. .) buchanan wrote an epigram on dingwall, founded upon some verses of sir adam otterburn of redhall, king's advocate, ("argumento sumpto ex adami otterburni equitis clarissimi hexametris,") from which it may be inferred that dingwall's father had been a priest, and left him no patrimony; that he himself had acquired great wealth, accompanied with pride and luxury, whilst employed at the court of rome; and that a monument had been erected to his memory, containing his titles in high sounding terms. [ ] in ms. g, "kirkmen." see some notes on the use of the title "sir," as applied to priests, in appendix, no. iv. [ ] in ms. g, "delaittit." [ ] some notice of oliphant will be given in a subsequent page. [ ] gawin dunbar was the son of sir alexander dunbar of westfield, and dame elizabeth sutherland; (see note to poems of william dunbar, vol. ii. p. , edinb. , vols. vo.) and not son of sir james dunbar of cumnock, as keith states. he had been a student at st. audrews, where he took his master's degree in . on the th of october , his name occurs as dean of his native diocese of moray. he also held the office of clerk-register from to . in , dunbar received a presentation to the archdeaconry of st. andrews. (regist. secr. sigil.) on the death of bishop gordon, th june , being promoted to the see of aberdeen, he resigned his archdeaconry. he died at a very advanced age on the th or th of march - .--(preface by the editor, mr. cosmo innes, to the registrum episcopatus aberdonensis, p. lv.) [ ] in vautr. edit. and ms. a, &c., "andro balsone." he was probably related to martin balfour, "official principal" of st. andrews, rector of dunyno, and a canon of st. salvator's church, st. andrews. the name of andrew balfour occurs among the licentiates of st. leonard's college in ; but we cannot say whether or not he was the person who is here mentioned. [ ] in ms. "hell." [ ] richard carmichael, _yet living in fife_; that is, in the year ; but these words are literally copied by dr. patrick anderson in his ms. history of scotland, (vol. i. p. .) this seems sufficiently absurd in a work which was written as late as , or nearly years subsequent to carmichael's accusation. "ane letter maid to richard carmichaell, remittand to him his eschete gudis pertenying to our soverane, throw being of the said richard abjurit of heresy," &c., was passed under the privy seal, on the th of march . [ ] clapperton was only sub-dean of the chapel royal of stirling. the deanery, which was first conjoined with the provostry of kirkheugh, st. andrews, was afterwards annexed to the bishopric of galloway. henry weemys, bishop of galloway, was accordingly dean of the chapel royal, during his incumbency, from to .--in ms. g, clapperton is erroneonsly called sir john.--from the treasurer's accounts we learn, that schir george clappertoun was "maister elimosinar to the kingis grace," during the latter years of james the fifth ( to .) "dominus georgius clappertoun," on the th of july , obtained a presentation to the provostship of trinity college near edinburgh.--(reg. mag. sig., vol. xiv.) he sat in the provincial council at edinburgh in under this title.--(wilkins, concilia, vol. iv. p. , where his name is erroneously given as george cryghton.) he probably resigned this office on being appointed sub-dean of the chapel royal. after the reformation, he still retained the designation of sub-dean, and received his two-thirds of the benefice, although john duncanson was minister. sir george clapperton, sub-dean of the chapel royal of stirling, and vicar of kirkinner, granted a life-rent of the teinds of kirkinner, th september . (analecta scotica, vol. i. p. .) "sir george clappertoun, sub dene of the kingis majesties chapell royall of striveling, deceissit in the moneth of apryle ." in his testament, written at striviling in his "awin dwelling house," on the th of that month, as he nominates mr. robert pont, provost of trinity college, to act as oversman, and one of his assignees, we may infer, that clapperton had embraced the reformed doctrines.--(reg. of confirmed testaments, st sept. .) [ ] in ms. g, "seytoun." [ ] in vautr. edit. and mss. g, a, &c., "a whole lent." [ ] in ms. g, "lent." [ ] in vautr. edit. and ms. g, "condemned the holie doctrine." [ ] in vautr. edit. and ms. a, &c., "the whole lent past." in ms. g, "whatsoever he had taught in all his sermons before, the hole lent-tyde preceiding." [ ] james beaton, archbishop of st. andrews. [ ] in vautr. edit. and mss. g, a, &c., "ye may heir." [ ] in vautr. edit. "skoffe." [ ] in ms. g, the words "and more easely beleved," are omitted. in vautr. edit. and ms. a, &c., the passage reads, "this accusation was easely beleeved of," &c. [ ] in the habit of the dominican order to which he belonged. [ ] the exact time of seaton's flight from scotland, and the date of his letter to the king, have not been ascertained. the probable date is or . some particulars of his history will be given in the appendix, no. vii. [ ] in ms. g, "thy grace's." [ ] in ms. g, "thy grace's." [ ] in ms. g, "bairdit mulls;" in vautr. edit, and ms. l , "barbed mules;" ms. i, has "barbed mooles;" mss. a, w, and e, "bardit" or "barded mules"--the meaning of the phrase is, mules with trappings, or richly caparisoned. [ ] in ms. g, "conceat." [ ] the custom of choosing the king of the bean on the vigil of the epiphany ( th of january), was not peculiar to this country. the payments in the treasurer's accounts show, that a "queen of the bene" was frequently chosen. for the custom itself, see strutt's sports and pastimes; brand's popular antiquities, by sir henry ellis; and jamieson's dictionary, _v._ bane. sir thomas urquhart of cromarty, amongst other remarks, says, the presbyterians made use of kings "as we do of card-kings, in playing at the hundred," &c., "or, as the french on the epiphany-day use their _roy de la febre_, or king of the bean; whom, after they have, honoured with drinking of his health, and shouting aloud _le roy boit, le roy boit_, they make pay for all the reckoning; not leaving him sometimes one peny, rather then that the exorbitancie of their debosh should not be satisfied to the full."--(most exquisite jewell, lond. , p. .) [ ] in ms. l , after the words, "of many read," there is added, "for every gentleman at court was curious to gett the coppie of the same, as was thocht weill of by the most part; but what," &c. on the other hand, the transcriber of that ms., in the next paragraph, omits two or three passages, concerning "the bloodie beasts," and "bands," in referring to the persecutions at this time, by "beaton and his doctors." [ ] in ms. g, "greitlie." [ ] the time of forresse, or forrest's imprisonment and martyrdom has not been well ascertained; and knox's subsequent remark, "after whose death, the flame of persecution ceased, till the death of norman gourlay, the space of ten years or neirby," is not intelligible, according to the dates usually assigned. foxe gives no precise date, but says, that _within few years after_ hamilton's martyrdom, "ane henry forrest, a young man born in linlithgow, who a little before had received the orders of benet and collet, &c., suffered death at the north church stile of the abbey church of st. andrews," (edit. , p. .)--caldorwood has copied from foxe, and supposes it might have been in , or the year following. (hist, vol. i. p. .) keith conjectures it was about . (hist, vol. i. p. ;) and m'crie, in . (life of knox, vol. i. p. .)--as knox speaks of forresse's "long imprisonment," we may conjecture it was in . from the treasurer's accounts, th of may , we find that some persons were then under accusation of heresy, letters having been sent on that day "to the bishop of st. andrews, to advertize him of the changing of the dirt of the accusation of the lutherans."--forrest was a benedictine monk; and from mention of the town where he was born, we may conjecture he was the son of "thomas forrest of linlithgow," to whom various sums were paid by the treasurer "to the bigging of the dyke about the paliss of linlithgow," between april and july . [ ] vautr. edit, and all the later mss. have erroneously "the _said_ tower." the castle of st. andrews, originally built in the year , by bishop roger, as an episcopal residence, stands close to the sea-shore, and one of the towers projecting into the sea, no doubt obtained for it this name. "a _nuik_ in the bottom of the sea tower, a place where many of god's children had been imprisoned before," is again mentioned by knox in . [ ] see note above: all the mss. read "ten years." [ ] the events here mentioned were all connected with the sway of the douglasses in the minority of james the fifth. the first was the attempt by sir walter scott of buccleuch, at the head of horse, at melrose, to rescue the king from the earl of angus, on the th of january . the second was an equally unsuccessful attempt, for the same end, by the earl of lennox, at kirkliston, on the th of september that year, where lennox was cruelly slain by sir james hamilton of finnart. but the king at length made his escape from falkland in july , (or, as mr. tytler conjectures, on the d or d of may.) on the th of september that year, an act of forfeiture was passed against archibald earl of angus, his uncle, and his brother sir george douglas. they had retired to england, and continued in exile till the death of james in . [ ] wyncester, that is stephen gardyner, bishop of winchester. he became lord chancellor of england in the reign of mary, and died in november . see lord campbell's lives of the chancellors, vol. ii. pp. - . [ ] both foxe and calderwood have preserved a detailed account of seaton's accusation in , in which year his "declaration made at poules crosse," was printed at london. a notice of this rare tract, and some further particulars of his history will be added in the appendix, no. vii. [ ] "duch land," _deutschland_--means germany, not holland. [ ] see appendix, no. vi.--protestant exiles from scotland. [ ] in ms. g, "providence." [ ] steidis, _stadts_--probably one of the states in north holland. calderwood has strangely confounded macdowall and macchabeus, as one person. macdowall's christian name is not given by any of our writers; but there is, i think, little doubt that he was james mackdowell, one of the determinants in st. leonard's college, st. andrews, in the year . [ ] alexander alesius, or alesse, was a native of edinburgh, born in , and educated at st. andrews. calderwood, bayle, the biographia britannica, dr. m'crie, and, in particular, the rev. christopher anderson, (annals of the english bible, vol. ii. pp. - ,) have given detailed accounts of his subsequent life and writings. he was imprisoned, and narrowly escaped the persecuting violence of his superior, patrick hepburn, prior of st. andrews, in the year . alesse has the merit of being among the first who contended for the translation of the scriptures into the vernacular tongue. he died at leipzig on the th of march . [ ] john fyfe prosecuted his studies in st. leonard's college, st. andrews, under gawin logye. his name occurs as a determinant, in , and a licentiate in . dr. m'crie says, that fyfe having fled from st. andrews, accompanied alesse to germany, and shared in his honours at leipzig.--(life of knox, vol. i. p. .) he is said to have returned to scotland, and died in st. leonard's, about the beginning of the reformation, or soon after.--(calderwood's hist. vol. i. p. .) he seems however to have been a professor at frankfort. see appendix, no. vi. [ ] dr. m'crie has brought together a number of particulars respecting dr. john macchabeus.--(life of knox, vol. i. p. .) some additional notices will be given in the appendix, no. vi. but it may here be noticed, in connexion with the following footnote, that macchabeus was brought from wittemburg to copenhagen, in the year ; that he was one of the translators of the bible into danish, first printed at kiobenhaffn, in , folio; and that he died on the th of december . [ ] in vautr. edit., and mss. g, w, &c., "cawpmanhowen;" in ms. g, "capmanhoven." this name joined with the words "and famous men," might suggest that an individual was meant. it is however copenhagen, (in danish, kiobenhaven, _i.e._ the merchant's haven,) the city in which macchabeus attained great distinction. sir david lyndesay of the mount, in his official character as lyon-king at arms, visited denmark in ; and his acquaintance with macchabeus might have led to the first publication of his dialog, or four books of the monarchie, under a fictitious designation, although actually printed by john scot, either at st. andrews or edinburgh in : it bears on the title, "imprintit at the command and expensis of doctor machabevs in capmanhovin." there is a later edition, apparently in and , with a similar imprint, but the name is rendered "nachabeus." [ ] the th of august , is the date assigned for the trial, "befoir the bishop of ross, be ane commission of the bischope of sanctandrois," of kirk and others. (diurnal of occurrents, p. .) of these persons, calderwood informs us, that sir william kirk, as his name denotes, was a priest; but "whether he compeared and abjured, or fled, we can find no certaintie;" that adam dayes, or dease, was "a ship-wright that dwelt on the north side of the bridge of leith;" that henry cairnes, "skipper in leith, fled out of the countrie to the easter seas;" and that "john stewart, indweller in leith, died in exile." (hist. vol. i. p. .)--"henricus cairnys, incola de leith," was denounced as a fugitive, and condemned for heresy, in - ; and on the th of april , the names of seven sons and five daughters of henry carnis in leith, are specified in a letter under the privy seal, granting them the escheat of the various goods and property which belonged to their father.--(m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. pp. - .) [ ] in vautr. edit., ms. a. &c., is added, "our advocate."--johnstone studied at st. andrews, and his name appears among the determinants, in st. leonard's college, in . mr. william johnstone was the last of nine advocates who were admitted at the insitution of the court of session, th may . the time when he fled appears to have been two years later. but after the death of james v, he returned to scotland, probably with the governor, and apostatized from the reformed faith. this we learn from a letter, written to the pope, in the queen's name, which states, "that the bearer, mr. william johnstone, a layman, had ten years previously imbibed the new doctrines; that after much distress of mind, he earnestly longed to be reunited to the mystical body of christ, but no opportunity had hitherto presented itself. wherefore james earl of arran, governor of our kingdom, supplicates that his holiness the pope might receive the said william into the bosom of the church." this letter is dated the th of april .--(epistolæ regum scotorum, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] henryson, or henderson, appears in the list of licentiates in st. salvator's college, st. andrews, in . he had previously been employed as an assistant to mr. david vocat, principal master and tutour of the grammar school of the burgh of edinburgh, who having chosen "his kind freend and discipill, master henry henrison, to be con-master;" this nomination was approved of by george bishop of dunkeld and abbot of holyroodhouse; and (apparently on the death of vocat,) it was further confirmed by a royal charter, dated st of march , enjoyning that "the said master henry henrysoun be at hie solempne festivale tymes with ws, the said abbot and our successouris, at hie mass and ewin sang, with his surples upoun him, to do ws service the time that we sall doe devyne service within our said abbey, as efferis." (reg. mag. sigilli, lib. xxiii. no. .--see m'crie's life of melville, vol. ii. p. ,) calderwood, in mentioning that henryson had fled, and been condemned as a heretic, adds, that he died in england.--(hist. vol. i. p. .) the escheat of his goods was granted to james bannatyne, according to an entry in the treasurer's accounts, , , "compositio bonorum eschætorum magistri henrici henderson convict. de crimine heresieos, _ab antiquo concess_. jacobo bannatyne," &c. (m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. .) [ ] to burn one's bill, was a sign of recantation. "the form of burning one's bill, (says keith,) or recanting, was this--the person accused was to bring a faggot of dry sticks and burn it publicly, by which ceremony he signified that he destroyed that which should have been the instrument of his death." (hist. vol. i. p. .) [ ] david stratoun is described by calderwood and other writers, as a brother of the laird of lauriston. (see note to next page.) on the th of march - , for the sum of £ , the composition of a tenement in dundee, falling to the king, "per decessum davidis straitoun in quhitstoun, justificati ad mortem pro certis criminibus heresieos," was granted to david gardyne and mariote erskyn. pitscottie erroneously places the execution of stratoun and gourlay under the year . their trial took place in holyroodhouse, in the king's presence; james hay, bishop of ross, (from to ,) acting as commissioner for archbishop beaton.--(see foxe's martyrs; cald. hist. vol. i. p. ; keith's hist. vol. i., p. .) [ ] norman gourlay was in priest's orders, and had been a student at st. andrews. his name occurs in the list of determinants, in , and of licentiates, in . [ ] these words are added in the margin of the ms., probably in knox's own hand. [ ] see note .--the rev. c. anderson shows, from foxe, that it was the vicar of ecclesgreig, and not prior hepburn, with whom stratoun had a dispute about tythes. (annals, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] from the register of the great seal, it is evident that the stratouns of stratoun and the stratouns of lauriston in kincardineshire, were one and the same family. thus we find that charters were granted to ( .) alexander stratoun de eodem, and agnes ogilvy his spouse, in ; and to alexander stratoun de lauranstoun, (of the barony of stratoun,) in . ( .) andrew stratoun de eodem, and isobel lindsay his spouse, in . ( .) george stratoun, son and heir of andrew stratoun de eodem, in ; and george stratoun de lauriston, in . (the last will of george stratoun of that ilk, is recorded th april , in the register of confirmed testaments.) ( .) alexander stratoun, son and heir of george stratoun de eodem, in . this alexander stratoun de eodem was served heir of george stratoun de eodem, his father, d june . david stratoun, who suffered martyrdom, was probably a younger son of the first alexander stratoun above mentioned. [ ] in ms. g, "cast himself." [ ] the rood or cross of greenside. the actual site of the gibbet, where criminals were executed, is somewhat doubtful; (maitland's edinburgh, p. ;) but it was near the road leading from the calton towards leith. james the second, in , had granted a piece, on the eastern side of this road, in the place which still retains the name of the greenside, for holding public sports and tournaments. [ ] in ms. g, "church." [ ] among the persons who fled at this time to england, was james hamilton, sheriff of linlithgow, and brother of patrick hamilton; also his sister katherine. in august , cranmer introduces him to crumwell as a gentleman who had left his country for no cause, but "that he favoured the truth of god's word;" and on the th of april , he sent to crumwell a copy of the sentence given against him by the bishops at holyrood, praying that henry would write to his nephew on his behalf. see the rev. chr. anderson's annals of the english bible, vol. ii. pp. , . hamilton obtained permission to return in . [ ] the exact dates of the several persons accused of heresy, or who suffered martyrdom in scotland during the reign of james the fifth, in many instances cannot be ascertained; but it is evident that while many persons were accused between and , the flames of persecution were rekindled with greater fury, at the time that david beaton became coadjutor of st. andrews, and was raised to the dignity of a cardinal, at the close of the year . [ ] knox has here mistaken the time when sir john borthwick, being accused, but having made his escape to england, was burned in effigy. the date was the th of may , or two days after the baptism of prince james. see appendix, no. viii. [ ] mary of lorraine, daughter of the duke of guyse, and widow of the duke of longueville, became james the fifth's second queen. on her arrival from france, she landed at balcomie, near crail, in fife, on the th of june . she was conveyed to st. andrews with great pomp; and pitscottie has furnished an interesting account of the pageants, &c., represented on that festive occasion. see also lyon's hist, of st. andrews, vol. i. p. . [ ] in vautr. edit., "killor." unfortunately his play, which probably was represented in or , has not been preserved. neither has any information respecting friar kyllour himself been discovered. [ ] the property of persons convicted of heresy and other penal crimes, became escheated to the crown; and the escheat was usually bestowed by a special grant from the king under the privy seal, upon payment of a composition to the high treasurer. on the st of march - , such a grant was made to james menteith, "of all gudis quhilkis pertenit to uniquhile sir duncane symsoun, chaplane, and pertenyis to our soverane lord be reason of eschete, through justifying of the said sir duncane to the deid for certane crymes of heresy imput to him."--(m'crie's knox, vol. i. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. and the later mss. "forrester." robert forrester was "brother to thomas forrestare of arngibbonne." along with "william forrestare, son to john forrestare, burgess of stirling," and three other persons, he found surety to underly the law, on the ground of "haifing and using of sic bukis as ar suspect of heresy," &c. th january - .--(pitcairn's criminal trials, vol. i. p. .) it appears from knox and other authorities, that he was condemned, and suffered on the st of march that year; and after their death, the goods of robert forrester, and of william forrester, were confiscated d march - . [ ] of thomas forret, canon-regular in the monastery of st. colm's inch, and vicar of dollar, who finished his education at cologne, an interesting account is preserved in foxe's martyrs, and has been copied into "the scots worthies." his father is said to have been master of the king's stables, in the reign of james the fourth. in the treasurer's accounts, in february , we find the name of thomas forret, as one of the persons at court to whom dresses were furnished at the king's expense. in like manner,-- " , july . item, to thome foret, in bredil-silver of ane hors send furth of sanct johnstoun to the king, ix s. " , july . item, to thome foret, to pas to fast castle, to see the inglis schippis, xiiij s." [ ] in ms. g, is added, "upoun the castell hill." [ ] that is - , the year then being reckoned to commence on the th of march. but the actual date of their martyrdom, instead of the last day of february, seems to have been the st of march, according to an incidental notice in the household books of james the fifth; as, in order to render the example more striking, the king himself was present:-- " mar. . accusatio hæreticorum et eorum combustio, apud edinburgh, rege presente."--(archæologia, vol. xxii. p. .) the next day the king returned to linlithgow. a corresponding notice is furnished by the treasurer's accounts, st of march . "item, deliverit to archibald heriot messinger, to pas and search their goods who were abjured and declared heretics in edinburgh and stirling, xij s." [ ] that is, the cardinal beaton; gawin dunbar, archbishop of glasgow and lord chancellor; and george crichton, bishop of dunkeld. [ ] in a letter from sir thomas wharton, at carlisle, th november , to lord crumwell, it is said, "there was at dumfreis laitlie one frere jerom, callid a well lernid man, taken by the lorde maxvell upon commandment from the bishopis, and lyith in sore yerons, like to suffre for the inglish menes opynyons, as thai saie, anenpst the lawis of gode. hit passeth abrode daylie, thankes be to god, there, all that same notwithstandinge."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] petrie the church historian, says, "the summer following ( ,) jerome russell, a gray friar, and thomas kennedy, a young man of aire, not above years of age, were at glascow, accused of heresy."--(hist. p. .) whether he had any authority for calling him thomas, can only be conjectured. calderwood names him n. kennedy; hence he has been called ninian; but see note . [ ] of mr. john lauder mention will afterwards be made, in connexion with knox's account of george wishart's trial. [ ] oliphant was educated at st. andrews, his name occurring among the determinants, in . having taken his master's degree, he obtained preferment in the church, as vicar of foulis and innertig; and was employed by cardinal beaton as his confidential agent at rome. in sadler's state papers is an intercepted letter from beaton to him, dated th november , (vol. i. p. .) in may , in the proceedings against sir john borthwick, he is styled notary public, and secretary to cardinal beaton. oliphant, (misnamed eliphant,) in the provincial council, held at edinburgh in , is styled "secretarius et notarius in concilio."--(wilkins, conc. vol. i. p. .) in and , he was again employed at rome, in the affairs of the governor and of archbishop hamilton; and in , he appeared as the accuser of walter myll, when tried for heresy. see next note. the name of mr. andro oliphant, notary public, also occurs in november , in the acts of parliament, (vol. ii. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "servantis." in vautr. edit. "servantes;" and vautr. edit., mss. a, e, &c., read "meitman." of this friar, who with lauder and oliphant, are emphatically styled "servants of satan," not much is known. according to pitscottie, whilst schir andrew oliphant stood forth as the public accuser of walter myln, in april , friar maltman preached a sermon on the same occasion, previously to his trial in the abbey kirk of st. andrews. [ ] petrie, in his notice of their trial, says, "because bishop gawin dunbar was thought cold in the business, messrs. john lauder, and andro oliphant, and frier maltman, were sent from edinburgh to assist him."--(hist. part ii, p. .) we may indeed conclude, that unless for the zeal of these inquisitors, russell and kennedy might have escaped martyrdom. [ ] in ms. g, "trod:" in vautr. edit. "taken." [ ] thomas duke of norfolk, in a letter to lord crumwell from berwick, th of march , says, "dayly commeth unto me, some gentlemen and some clerkes, wich do flee owte of scotland, as they saie, for redyng of scripture in inglishe; saying that, if they were taken, they sholde be put to execution. i geve them gentle wordes; and to some, money." in the same letter, he adds, "here is nowe in this toune, and hath be[ne] a good season, she that was wife to the late capitaigne of donbar, and dare not retorne, for holding our waies, as she saithe. she was in englande, and sawe quene jane. she was sir patricke hamelton's doughter, and her brother was brent in scotlande or yeres past."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) this last reference as to date is an obvious mistake. see extract from foxe's martyrs, in appendix, no. v., respecting katherine hamilton, and her brother, james hamilton of kincavel, who returned in , and is mentioned in the following note. [ ] sir james hamilton of finnart was a bastard son of james first earl of arran; but he obtained letters of legitimation, jan. - . his slaughter of the earl of lennox in , (see note ,) was rewarded by the captaincy of linlithgow palace. in buchanan's admonition, written in , after the regent earl of murray's death, to expose "the practises of the hamiltons," there is a detailed account of the several conspiracies against james the fifth, in which sir james was concerned. but hamilton latterly became a favourite of the king, and acquired large possessions. in , he was appointed an extraordinary lord of session; and, as master of works, he superintended the building or additions made to the palace of linlithgow, blackness castle, and other royal edifices.--(treasurer's accounts, sept. , and april .) on the th of october , is this entry,-- "item, gevin to schir james hammiltoun, master of wark, to compleit the kingis wark in striveling, as the appointment and contract maid betuix the compt and him thairupon beris, iiij^m. lib." (£ .) "item, (in april ,) gevin to schir james hammyltoun, in parte payment of the rest of his comptis for the warkis of lynlythqw and blakness, at the kingis command, be ane precept, iij^c. lib." (£ .) but his fate was not less sudden than it must have been unexpected. in the same record, we find that on the th of august , a messenger was employed "for summonyng of ane assiss to schir james hammiltoun, and for wyne brocht into the lordis, being upoun his inqueist, xv s. x d."--his accuser was james hamilton of kincavel, sheriff of linlithgow, and being convicted of treason, which had been long concealed, his sentenco was carried into immediate execution. [ ] pitscottie has given a more detailed narrative of sir james hamilton's condemnation and of the king's vision. [ ] the birth of a prince, named james after his father, on d of may , is mentioned at page , note . the younger son, named arthur, duke of rothesay, &c., was born at stirling, in april , where he died, according to lesley, eight days after his baptism.--(hist. p. .) in the treasurer's accounts, about the end of april , there was paid "to andre zare in striviling, for ane cap of leid that my lord duke was buried in." prince james died within six hours of arthur. mr. tytler falls into a strange mistake in placing their death subsequently to that of queen margaret, widow of james the fourth. in a letter to her brother henry the eighth, written from stirling, on the th of may , she mentions the great distress "for the death of the prynce and hys brothar, both with the kyng my derrest son, and the quene hys wyffe."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) the queen dowager died, however, within a few months; the "diurnal of occurrents" says on the th of november. this date is evidently incorrect, as on the st of that month, messengers were despatched with letters "to divers lordis and gentilmen to cum to the quenis tyrement." (treasurer's accounts.) a letter, describing her last illness, is preserved among the state papers, vol. v. p. , written in december, by ray the pursuevant, who had been sent by the privy council to scotland specially to report on the subject. [ ] his death may be referred to the end of the year , or early in ; as the treasurer paid "to david hardy, be ane tykket of george steilis, for hinging of the tapescherie in halyrudhouse, and doun taking of the samin, vij s." on the oct. .--the name of george steill is occasionally met with in the treasurer's accounts, during the reign of james the fifth. we may conjecture that he was the son of john steill, one of the servitors to james the fourth, (apparently king's tailor,) from to . george, who was a burgess of edinburgh, had acquired the lands of houston, and other property. he had a charter under the great seal, of the office of coquet clerk of the borough: "officii clericatus coketæ burgi de edinburgo," sept. . the charters of the lands of houston, in linlithgowshire, were granted to himself and christian wilson his spouse, july , and sept. . he had also a charter of "the common-myre near duddingston loch," in the county of edinburgh, july . in the year , the common-myre is described as extending to acres, in the barony of preistfield, now prestonfield, (retours, edin. no. .) [ ] thomas scott of pitgorno, in fife, was the second son of sir william scott of balweary, (douglas's baronage, p. .) a person of the same name was a licentiate at st. andrews in . he seems to have held some situation at court, as, among other persons of the royal household, he received £ , at christmas , for their "fealis and pensionis." in , the treasurer also paid "thomas scot for his fee, be the kingis precept," the sum of £ , s. d. on the th of october , scott was admitted an ordinary lord of session, in the room of his father, who was then deceased--(senators of the college of justice, p. .) as a further mark of royal favour, he was appointed justice clerk in . a letter, signed by him, "thomas scott of pitgorno," on the st of december , addressed to crumwell, complains of the resetting of traitors who had escaped to england, (some of them, we may suppose, were persons accused of heresy;) and he concludes with suggesting that henry the eighth would make an acceptable "propyne" to his nephew, by sending james a young lion, brought from flanders.--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] scott's death must have taken place about the close of , the office of justice-clerk having been conferred on thomas bellenden of auchinoul, th december that year. in a letter written by mr. alexander colvile, justice-depute, th december , the above confession of scott is thus mentioned in connection with the appointment of suitable persons to the office of justice-clerk, "if he, i say, be not a sound, conscientious man, and free of baise bribrie, he may prove a pernitious instrument, and to the cawse that iniquitie may be committed; as we have yit in memorie of one thomas scot of abotishall, quho was justice clerk to james the fift, of happie memorie, quho being strukin with a terror of conscience, at the hour of his death, for his evill cariage in that place, dyed in desperation, crying, 'i am damned! i am damned!'"--(pitcairn's criminal trials, vol. iii. p. .) a proof of scott's iniquitous proceedings is embodied in the act of parliament rescinding the forfeiture of john lord glammys, on the th of march - , upon a pretended confession, being "fraudfullie indusit be umquhile thomas scot, justice-clerk, and utheris familiaris to our said umquhile soverane lord, to mak the said pretendit confessioune, sayand to him, that his life, landis, gudis, movabill and ummovabill, suld be saif to him; and that na process nor sentence of forfaultor sould be led aganis him."--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) [ ] mr. thomas marjoribanks of ratho, was one of the ten advocates admitted at the institution of the college of justice, th of may . he acquired the lands of ratho in ; and in that year, he was provost of edinburgh, and sat in the parliaments and . he was admitted a lord of session, and clerk-register, on the th of february - , as successor to sir james foulis. "maister thomas marjoribankis, now clerk of oure soverane ladyes register, for his feyes in the yeris of god and ," received "for ilk year merkis, _summa_ £ , s. d." he was deprived of the office of clerk-register in , and died before .--(senators of the college of justice, p. .) [ ] mr. hugh rigg was admitted an advocate, on the th of november . he obtained a charter of confirmation to himself and janet hopper his spouse, of the lands of carberry, in the shire of edinbuigh, st july . the old baronial mansion-house of carberry stands in the eastern part of the parish of inveresk.--(new statistical account.) hugh rigg is again mentioned by knox, and also by pitscottie, as one of the four persons to whom the governor of scotland communicated the overtures of the duke of somerset, immediately previous to the battle of pinkie. he was succeeded by his son james rig of carberry, whose name occurs, in and , in lists of assize (pitcairn's crim. trials); and "mag^r. quintigernus rig," was served heir to his father, james rig of carbarry, jan. .--(retours, edinb. no. .) [ ] mr. thomas bellenden, or bannatyne, of auchinoul, was the son of patrick bellenden. he was admitted an ordinary judge on the d of june . he was appointed director of chancery, th of september ; and on the th of december , he succeeded scott of pitgorno, as justice-clerk. he was one of the commissioners who met for redress, on the border; and sir william eure informs crumwell, on the th of january , that he had "hade diverse commynyages with mr. thomas bellendyn, one of the said counsellours for scotlande, a man by estymatioun apperaunte to be of th'age of fiftye zeres or above, and of gentle and sage conversatioun, specially touching the staye of the spiritualitie of scotland."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) he died in , and was succeeded in his offices of justice-clerk and director of chancery, by his eldest son, sir john bellenden. [ ] buchanan was born in the year . having taken his bachelor's degree at st. andrews, d oct. , he completed his academical course at paris. it is usually stated that he returned to scotland, along with gilbert earle of cassilis, in . the following notices from the treasurer's accounts, prove that date to be incorrect. "item, the xvj day of februar [ - ,] be the kingis gracis precept and speciale command to maister george balquhannan and andro myln, servandis to lord james, to be thame twa gounis," &c., and various other "leverays," viz., "hoiss, bonettis, hugtonis, and doublettis." "item, [the xxj day of august ,] to master george balquhannan, at the kingis command, xx lib." in july , upon occasion of "the quenis (magdalene's) saull mess and dirige, quham god assolze," maister george balquhanan received a goun of paryse blak, lyned with blak satyne, &c. also £ , at the king's command. [ ] lord james stewart, to whom buchanan acted as tutor, was the king's natural son, by elizabeth shaw, of the family of sauchie.--(dr. irving's life of buchanan, p. .) he had the abbacies of kelso and melrose conferred on him; but he died at an early age, in the year . [ ] on the title of the first edition of buchanan's paraphrase of the psalms, he is characterized as _poetarum nostri sæculi facile princeps_. it was printed at paris, by henry stephanus, in vo, without date; but apparently in . a second edition has the date . but the same printer had published a selection of psalms by buchanan, with corresponding versions by other poets, at paris in , to. [ ] the date of buchanan's escape from scotland is fixed by his own statement to the beginning of the year , when he says five persons (symson, forrester, &c., see note ) were condemned to the flames, whilst nine others made a formal recantation of their lutheran errors, and many more were driven into exile; among whom was george buchanan, who escaped by the window of his bed-chamber, while his keepers were asleep: "in his fuit georgius buchananus qui, sopitis custodibus, per cubiculi fenestram evaserat."--(hist. lib. xiv.) [ ] these words seem to belong to the last paragraph; but all the copies place them as here printed. [ ] in ms. g, "espy and detest." [ ] alexander lord kilmauris, third son of the fourth earl of glencairn. in , he was in england as a hostage for his father's sincerity; and sir ralph sadler says, in a letter to henry the eighth, "furthermore, he hath written to your majesty to have his son home, entring other pledges for him. he is called the lord of kilmaurs, and the master of glencairn; and in my poor opinion, they be few such scots in scotland, both for his wisdom and learning, and well dedicate to the truth of christ's word and doctrine."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) "the acute sadler," as sir walter scott remarks, "discerned the germ of those qualities which afterwards made this nobleman the great promoter of the reformation, and in consequence a steady adherent of the english interest." (ib.) both the earl of glencairn, and his son lord kilmaurs, received pensions from henry the eighth. owing to the death of his brothers, he succeeded to the earldom in , and survived till . [ ] thomas douchtie, hermit of alareit, or loretto, near musselburgh--see note . [ ] in ms. g, "francis ordour dos." [ ] in ms. g, "gud." [ ] in ms. l , "stayed." [ ] in vautr. edit. "such lasie scamleris." [ ] in ms. g, "christis glorie." [ ] in ms. g, "to." [ ] in ms. g, "fra treuth." [ ] to _turse_, or carry. in ms. g, and all the other copies, it is "to curse," which has no sense. [ ] in ms. g, "on craftie." [ ] friar _walter_ is apparently a mistake for friar william laing. (see the following note.) foxe has stated it was through this friar william laing, "bewrayer of the confession to archbishop james beaton," that henry forrest, whose fate is mentioned at page , was condemned and given over to the secular judges to suffer death. see the extract from foxe's martyrs, in appendix, no. v. [ ] calderwood says, "frier laing had been confessor to the king," (hist. vol. i. p. ;) and the treasurer's accounts in , show that "schir william layng, chaplane," was then attached to the court. on the th of february - , he received various articles of dress, viz., a gown of french black, a hugtoun of parise black, a doublet of black sattin, and a black bonnet. on the d dec. , "abbis, towellis," &c., were furnished "to his chapell." in , "schir william layng," is described as "maister elymosinar in the princes house;" £ , s. d. having been previously paid "for his liveray clathis, be ane precept, above the ordinar, admittit to him in my lord prince house;" and in july that year, £ was "gevin to schir william layng, chaplane, enterit this zere (in the household)."--"willelmus laynge, studens," was incorporated in the university of glasgow, in ; and another "willelmus layng, clericus parochialis glasguensis," in . [ ] according to a contemporary chronicler, the chapel of our lady of loretto was founded so late as , by thomas douchtie, here styled the hermit of alareit. "in this mene tyme ( ,) thair come ane heremeit callit thomas douchtie, in scotland, quha had bein lang capitane [captive?] befoir the turk, as was allegit, and brocht ane ymage of our lady with him, and foundit the cheppil of laureit besyid musselburgh."--(diurnal of occurrents, p. , edinb. , to.) in like manner buchanan says, this impostor douchtye, having returned from italy, built a church to the virgin mary, and made great gain by his fictitious miracles.--(hist. lib. xiv. p. .) the chapel dedicated to our lady of loretto, (sometimes called alareit,) stood beyond the eastern gate of musselburgh, near the links; and the name for the locality is still retained. it was connected with the nunnery of the sciennes, and became one of the most noted shrines in scotland, during the reign of james the fifth. lesley says, that the king, previously to his marriage, having sailed for france, ( th july ,) the vessel in which he had embarked, after sailing by the north of scotland, and the west, was driven by a storm, and that he landed at st. ninians, in galloway, "and sua returnit to strivilinge, _and thairfra passit on his feet in pilgrimage to the chapell of lorrett_, besid mussilburgh."--(hist. p. .) queen margaret, in a letter to henry the eighth, printed in the state papers, vol. v. p. , (where it is placed under the year , instead of ,) thus mentions her son's voyage, saying that his nephew had been "in grete dangere of seyis, be contrare wyndis, quhilk agane his mynd, be extreme stormis, compellit to mak course furth of this est sey northward, compassing the maist parte of this realme throuch the occeane seyis, and be the grace of god arryvit in the port of st. ninianis callit quhithorne." james, after his pilgrimage on foot from stirling, sailed from leith, with a squadron of seven vessels, and had a more fortunate voyage. on the th of september , the treasurer paid £ , s. d. to sir henry balfour, in part of £ , "to be gevin to puir houshuldarris to pray for his hienes prosperous returnyng." [ ] proposals for such a meeting had been made in , and again in . the above meeting was to have taken place on the th of january - , according to articles agreed upon the previous month.--(state papers, vol. v. p. ; tytler's hist. vol. v. p. .) [ ] henry the eighth, says sir walter scott, "insulted james by the threat, that he had still the name rod in in keeping which had chastized his father. by that rod, the duke of norfolk was intimated, who, while yet earl of surrey, commanded at flodden, where james iv. fell."--(hist. of scotland, vol. ii. p. .) see note . [ ] pitscottie says, that the bishops, in apprehension that james might follow his uncle's example, in casting down the abbeys, "budded (bribed) the king to bide at home, and gave him three thousand pounds by year to sustain his house, off their benefices." at a later date, the clergy, we are told, offered to contribute and assign to him of yearly rent of their benefices, the sum of thirty thousand pounds; or to enlarge the sum to £ , , provided the king gave them a secular judge to their mind, to execute justice on the wicked heretics whom they had delated to the king, in the list or scroll elsewhere referred to.--(hist. pp. , , , edit. .) it was but proper that the clergy, to whom the king had sacrificed so much, should thus manifest their liberality; but indeed such contributions were not unusual, on the part of the beneficed clergy and dignitaries of the church. in august , previously to the calamitous expedition which had such a fatal catastrophe at floddon, the clergy contributed the sum of £ , , s. d. (treasurer's accounts.) [ ] the th of august . [ ] in ms. g, "malberie." the name should be mowbray. [ ] halden rig, or hawden rig, in roxburghshire, a few miles to the east of kelso. in the ms. it was originally written "maxwell heucht," but this is corrected to haldane rig. in the later mss. "reade," is written more intelligibly "raid." [ ] thomas howard, second duke of norfolk, when earl of surrey, convoyed the princess margaret from england, to her marriage with james the fourth, at holyrood, in ; and he commanded the english army at floddon, in , when the rashness of that gallant but unfortunate monarch proved fatal to himself, and so disastrous to his country. he died in ; and was succeeded by his eldest son, thomas third duke of norfolk, who was lieutenant-general in the north, and had also been at floddon. he commanded the english troops which invaded the southern parts of scotland, in august and died in , upwards of eighty years of age. [ ] now smailholm. [ ] fala muir, a plain near the western termination of the lammermuir hills. [ ] in vautr. edit. "hallow-evin." the eve of hallowmass; in scotland, halloween, the st of october; hallowmass, or all saints, of course, being the st of november. [ ] this alludes to the summary execution by the scotish nobles of cochrane and other favourites of james the third, in hanging them over the bridge of lauder, in the year , as related by all our historians. [ ] in vautr. edit. "had he runne." [ ] see note , respecting this scroll. [ ] in the later copies, "once." [ ] the date of the king's voyage round the isles has been mistaken by most of the older writers, such as buchanan, lesley, and others. this may have partly arisen from confounding it with his previous voyage in . (see note .) james purposed to have sailed on the th of may , but he deferred setting out till after the birth of his son, who was born at st. andrews on the d of may. this happy event james communicated in a letter to his uncle, the king of england, on the same day: "it hes liket god of his great gudnes to have send unto us, this day of may instant, ane sone and prince, fair and lillik to succeid to ws and this our realme. we think it accordis ws weill to mak you participant with ws of sic joyus gud novellis," &c.--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) the baptism of the prince took place on the th of may, and the king is said to have sailed on the day following. the treasurer's accounts for and , which furnish a number of interesting notices connected with the expense of this voyage, show that the arrangements for sailing were not compleated before the th or th of june, which may be held as the actual date of the expedition. in the collection of state papers referred to, are two letters, conveying reports of the preparations for the voyage, furnished by some of "the espiallis," or english spies; and also another letter from james himself to henry the eighth, on his return, dated at edinburgh the th of july , in which he says, that "all thingis standyng at gude poynt and ordour, we addressit us, as we thought expedient, to visie our ilis, north and southt, for ordouring of thame in justice and good policy," &c. (ib. p. .) [ ] james kirkcaldy of grange held the office of high treasurer from the th march , till the death of james in ; but his accounts during the latter months of the king's reign are not preserved. having accompanied james to france, the laird of grange had also acted as treasurer extraordinary from th september , until the king's return in may . [ ] in the ms. "propheit." [ ] in ms. g, "josrellis;" ms. a, "jesuits;" ms. l , "jeffells." [ ] in vautr. edit., ms. l , &c., "i shall reprove you by sharpe punishmentes."--from an interesting letter of sir william eure to crumwell, dated from berwick, th january - , it seems, that this answer or reprimand was uttered at linlithgow, rather than holyrood; and was occasioned by his witnessing the representation of sir david lyndesay's play, called, "ane satire on the three estates," which evidently produced a strong, but unfortunately no lasting impression on the king's mind. after describing "the enterlude," eure proceeds, "my lorde, the same maister bellenden shewed me, that after the said enterluyd fynished, the king of scottes did call upon the bischope of glasgow [gawin dunbar], being chauncelour, and diverse other buschopes, exorting thaym to reforme thair facions and maners of lyving, saying, that oneles thay soe did, he wolde send sex of the proudeste of thayme unto his uncle of england, and, as those were ordoured, soe he wold ordour all the reste that wolde not amende: and therunto the chauncelour should [did] aunsuer, and say unto the king, that one worde of his graces mouthe should suffice thayme to be at commaundement: and the king haistely and angrely answered, that he wold gladely bestowe any wordes of his mouthe that could amend thaym."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] john ross of craigie, near perth, was one of the prisoners taken at solway moss, in .--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] in the later copies, "once." [ ] oliver sinclair, see note . [ ] in vautr. edit. "minion." [ ] knox has previously alluded to this scroll or list of names. see pages and . sir ralph sadler, in a letter to henry the eighth, dated th of march , details a conversation he had with the governor, who told him, "that a number of noblemen and gentlemen the late king had gotten written in a roll, _which were all accused of heresy_; of the which, (he said,) he was the first, and the earl of cassilis, the earl of glencairn and his son, the earl marishal, and a great many gentlemen, to the number of eighteen score, because they were all well minded to god's word, which then they durst not avow; but now, (quoth he,) i shall do mine endeavour to set forth the glory of god with the assistance of the king's majesty."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] herbert lord maxwell, warden of the west marches, was taken prisoner at the battle of solway. sir ralph sadler, in a letter dated th april , reports a detailed conversation he had with him on the state of scotland.--(state papers, vol. i. p. .) he died in . [ ] lochmaben--see note . [ ] that is, the foray. in vautr. edit. this sentence, reads, "the forward goeth forth, feare ryses, daunger might have bin scene on every side." the later mss. are equally unintelligible. [ ] the words, "cornes and houses," connecting the foot of p. , and the top of p. , in vautr. edit, have been omitted; and this omission occurs also in mss. i, and l . [ ] in vautr. edit. "fentes." [ ] in vautr. edit. "slaked." [ ] in vautr. edit., and ms. g, &c., "the regiment of things." [ ] in ms. g, "gritter." [ ] in vautr. edit. "were mired, and lost their horses." [ ] in ms. g, "proik;" ms. a, "pricke." [ ] in ms. g, "of futemen soldeors." [ ] in vautr. edit. "his own sluggard;" in mss. g, i, and l , "slughorne." [ ] in ms. a, "solloway mosse;" in vautr. edit. "the slimy mosse." solway moss derives its name from the solway frith, a well known arm of the sea, which forms the boundary between england and scotland for upwards of fifty miles. the moss lies on the cumberland side of the small river sark, in the tract of land formerly known as the debateable ground. [ ] oliver sinclair of pitcairns was the third son of sir oliver sinclair of roslin. he was a favourite of james the fifth; and pitscottie says the king placed him as governor of temptallon or tautallon castle, when the powerful family of the douglasses were driven into exile.--(hist. p. .) it is more probable it was some years later that he received the command of this stronghold, which is on a cliff overhanging the sea, about two miles to the east of north berwick. in the treasurer's accounts, june , we find £ "was delivered to olivere sinclare, in cowper, to pay the kingis gentillmen with." in the following month, £ was paid "to olivere inclare, in compleat payment of his lyveray clathis." and on the th oct. , there was "gevin to olipher sinclar at the kingis command, to the warkis of tamtalloun," £ , s. d. in november , when the queen dowager died at methven, he and john tennant, two of the gentlemen of the king's privy chamber, were sent to take and lock up all her goods.--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) he was taken prisoner after his shameful defeat at solway; but obtained his liberty in . sadler mentions, that when he was about to repair to tantallon castle, at the end of that year, as a place of security, under the protection of sir george douglas, sinclair was lying in wait, in a small village near hand, in the hope of seizing him and his retinue.--(sadler's papers, vol. i. pp. , , .) [ ] lochmaben, in the parish of that name in annandale. lesley, however, says, "during the tyme of this raid, the king of scotland remanit in carlaverock upoun the bordour, not far from soloway moss."--(hist. p. .) the distance of either place from the scene of this disgraceful defeat was not considerable. lochmaben was a royal castle; and pitscottie, like knox, says, that the king "was in the castle of lochmaben."--(hist. p. .) but pinkerton and tytler follow lesley. [ ] _hand_, or hold: in ms. g, "hald." [ ] in vautr. edit., ms. g, &c., "and so went." [ ] th of november.--james was still at edinburgh on the th of november, when he wrote a letter to henry the eighth.--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] see note . [ ] hallyards, in the parish of auchtertool. [ ] in vautr. edit., ms. g, &c., "the lady of grange." this was janet melville, daughter of sir john melville of raith, and helen napier. she married james kirkcaldy of grange, high treasurer, from to . see page , note . [ ] yule, or christmas; as in vautr. edit., mss. e, i, and l . [ ] in vautr. edit. "christmas daye." [ ] castle of carny, in the parish of moonzie, in the shire of fife. [ ] these words are omitted in ms. g. [ ] lesley and later writers say that mary was born on the th of december. prince labanoff, however, proves that it was the th, "c'est la véritable date.--j'ai trouvé dans le _state paper office_ de londres, une lettre autographe de marie stuart de , dans laquello elle dit: _le viij décembre, xlij^e de ma naissance_."--(lettres de marie stuart, vol. i. p. .) [ ] this story of cardinal beaton having forged, or caused the king, in his last moments, to subscribe his name to a paper, which he afterwards filled up as a will, constituting beaton regent during the minority of mary, has been discredited; (see note in keith's hist. vol. i. p. ;) but it undoubtedly obtained credence at the time, as sadler reports a conversation he had with the governor on the th april , who said, "we have other matters to charge the cardinal with; for _he did counterfeit_, (quoth he,) _the late king's testament_; and when the king was even almost dead, (quoth he,) he took his hand in his, and so caused him to subscribe a blank paper."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) lesley also says the cardinal made some impediment to arran's appointment as governor, "alleging that the king be his testament nominat four regentis: _bot the same on no wise could be verefeit nor provin_."--(hist. p. .) buchanan further confirms this by asserting, that beaton "having bribed henry balfour, a mercenary priest, he, with his assistance, forged a false will for the king," &c.--(hist. lib. xv. .) this henry balfour is the priest or chaplain who is mentioned at the end of note . [ ] in ms. g, this sentence occurs on the margin, having been omitted in the text by the transcriber. [ ] james the fifth died at falkland, and was buried in the chapel of the palace of holyroodhouse. the day of his death is variously stated. some writers, as knox, calling it the th, others the th of december; but in the treasurer's accounts, there are various payments connected with his obsequies, under this head,-- "the expensis debursit be the compter fra the tyme of the kingis grace decess quhoine god assolze, _quhilk ves the xxj day of december_, anno etc. xlij^e" &c. [ ] see note . [ ] buchanan states, that the three persons who were joined with beaton, when the king's pretended will was proclaimed, were the earls of huntly, argyle, and arran. knox and spottiswood, instead of arran, name the earl of murray, who was bastard brother of james the fifth.--(keith's hist. vol. i. p. .) [ ] james hamilton, earl of arran, failing mary queen of scots, then an infant, was next heir to the crown. [ ] in ms. g, "successors." [ ] in vautr. edit. "appoints;" the same blunder is copied in mss. i, and l . [ ] on the last of february - , the treasurer's accounts exhibits this "item, gevin to henry wardlaw, for the writing of the inventour buke of all the kingis clething, jowellis, and uther gere, for his laubouris, xl s." [ ] the infant queen remained in the palace of linlithgow, under the nominal charge of the queen dowager. parliament, in march , nominated the earls marishal and montrose, lords erskine, ruthven, livingstone, lindesay of byres, and seton, and sir james sandilands of calder, "as keepers of the quenis grace," or any two of them quarterly.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) [ ] on the d of december , after the death of james the fifth, james hamilton, d earl of arran, was chosen regent or governor of scotland during the minority of the infant princess. at the first meeting of the estates of parliament, on the th of march , his appointment was confirmed, with a declaration of his being second person of the realm, and nearest to succeed to the crown, "failing our sovereign lady, and the children lawfully to be gotten of hir body."--(acta parl. scot, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] friar thomas guilliam, (or williams,) is described as a native of athelstaneford in east lothian; and is said to have attained considerable distinction in his order of dominican or black friars in scotland. the governor entertained him as his chaplain, until the return of his brother the abbot of paisley from france, had the effect of withdrawing him from the english interest, and disowning the new doctrines. the friar's name occurs in the treasurer's accounts:-- - , on the d of february, there was furnished "to be ryding gownis, with hudis, to freir thomas gilzame, and freir alexander lindsay, of scottis black," &c. also, "cottis, ryding sokkis," &c. , st april, "gevin to freir thomas gilzem, at his grace command, at his passing to hamilton, v lib. x s." on the following day, the d of april, sir ralph sadler communicates to henry the eighth the information, "that the governor was clearly altered from your majesty, and will surely revolt to the cardinal, the earls of lennox, huntley, argyle, and murray, and the clergy, to his own utter confusion.... in so much as the said governor hath not only _put away his friers preachers_, which he hath all this while defended, and kept about him to preach the word of god, but also hath secretly sent to the said cardinal and earls," &c. (vol. i. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit., mss. g, &c., the words "in the dayis of marie of curssed memorie," are omitted. [ ] calderwood, under the year , says, "a landed man, named johne scot, after he had travelled through italie, france, and the holie land, returneth home. he brought with him from jerusalem some date-tree leaves, and a pocke full of stones, which he fained were taken out of the pillar to which christ was bound, when he was scourged." he then records some instances of scot's extraordinary fasting, first in scotland, and afterwards at rome, venice, and london; and also of his deceptions.--(hist. vol. i. p. .) in april , john scot "was wardit in the castle of edinburgh, for not obeying a decreit against him be james lawson of hieriggs; the quhilk johne scot fastit without meat or drink of veritie xxxij dayes, exceptand ane drink of water." and on the th of october, "he was brocht nakit to the croce of edinburgh, quhair he preichit publictlie, the samyne quhilk fasting was be helpe of the virgin marye."--(diurnal of occurrents, pp. , .) in , on the th of july, there was paid "to johne scot, callit the santt, at the kingis command, xxij s."--(treasurer's accounts.) in george makeson's ms., among his "recollectionis of my lordis g[racis] missives," &c., is this note, "to let freir johne scott vant [want] na thing for his bukis and pensioun: at command quhairof i gaif him xxiij lib. septembris ." [ ] edward hope, in , was one of the bailies of edinburgh. [ ] this patrick lyndesay was probably the same person whose name appears in the treasurer's accounts, as follows:-- , april . "item, gevin to patrick lindsay, goldsmyth, for making of the quenis grace selis, and graving thairof, and for service and laubouris done he him to our soverane lord, quham god assolze, as the precept direct thairupoun beris, xxxj lib." [ ] in vautr. edit., &c., "at length by notice given." [ ] sir richard maitland of lethington, near haddington, whose name is honourably associated with the early poetical literature of scotland, was born in , and studied at st. andrews. he then went to france to study the laws. he was admitted as a judge in , and was often employed in public commissions. he died at the advanced age of , on the th of march .--(brunton and haig's senators of the college of justice, p. .) [ ] cardinal beaton was arrested in the end of january - , and imprisoned by the governor first in the castle of dalkeith, from whence he was transferred to blackness. he at last obtained permission to go to his own castle of st. andrews, under the guard of george fifth lord seaton, (who died in .) sir ralph sadler confirms the above statement by knox, of seaton having been bribed by the cardinal. in a letter to henry the eighth, th april , he says the governor told him of the proposal to have the castle of st. andrews delivered to the lord seaton, and all the cardinal's retainers put out, "nevertheless, (quoth he,) the lord seton being corrupt by the cardinal with great sums of money and other gifts, brought the cardinal into his own strength, in the said castle of st. andrews. and whereas the lord seton, (quoth he,) hath not twelve or sixteen men within the castle, the cardinal hath three hundred; so that he is plainly at his own liberty," &c. sadler adds, "i told him he had been very evil served, and that the lord seton had a great matter to answer unto. whereunto he said, that he should answer to it," &c.--(sadler's papers, vol. i. pp. , , , , and .) [ ] pasche, or easter: the parliament met on the th of march - . [ ] knox apparently refers to various acts passed in the parliament held at edinburgh, th of march - , at which the king was present. these acts prohibited all discussion on matters of religion; and persons from arguing against the pope's authority, under the pain of death and confiscation of their goods; suspected heretics were declared to be incapable of exercising any office; and such as had fled to avoid the censures of the church, were held to be condemned.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) there were still earlier acts against heresy, and the importation of heretical books. the act th july , contains some additions in the original record, on the th september , (see fac-simile plate, vol. ii. p. ;) and the act so enlarged was renewed, th june , (ib. p. .) there is also preserved a letter written by james the fifth, addressed to the lords of council and session, dated at aberdeen, d may , in reference to "diverse tractatis and bukes translatit out of latin in our scottis toung be heretikis, favouraris and of the secte of luther," which were sent to various parts of the realm; and the lords, on the th of may, passed some stringent rules, for destroying all such books, and for punishing trespassers and suspected persons.--(acts of sederunt, p. , edinb. , folio.) but the acts alluded to were in part nullified by the additions made to them on the th march - , (acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) on the same day, parliament sanctioned the "haifing the haly write, in the vulgar toung," as mentioned in note . [ ] these words, "now, yf" &c., are omitted in mss. a and w. [ ] the words, "and to hear it preached," are omitted in ms. g. [ ] in ms. g. "[greek: agapê.]" [ ] david rizzio. [ ] henry, lord darnley. [ ] it may be remarked, that either hay's name, or dean of restalrig, appear to be a mistake; and the marginal note may have had reference to this.--in , thomas gibson, dean of restalrig, was conjoined with cardinal beaton as his suffragan; and it was proposed, that whilst acting in that capacity, gibson should retain the benefices which he then held. at the provincial council in , mr. john sinclair, afterwards bishop of brechin, and lord president, sat as dean of restalrig.--(wilkins, concilia, vol. iv. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "lesoun," (lesum.) in vautr. edit. "lawfull." [ ] the act of parliament, th march - , allowing the translation of the scriptures "in the vulgar tongue, in the english or scotish, of a good translation," was proclaimed on the th of that month. it has been doubted whether, during the short interval which this act was allowed to remain in force, any edition was printed in scotland; most probably there was. but we know that parliamentary enactments of a previous date were insufficient to prevent the importation of copies of tyndale's translation of the new testament, so early as , as well as in subsequent years: see the rev. c. anderson's annals of the english bible, vol. ii. [ ] sir ralph sadler was born in the year . having gained a situation in the family of thomas lord crumwell, he was brought under the notice of henry the eighth, and after various other engagements, he commenced his diplomatic career in , by an embassy to scotland. he was again in this country as ambassador on seveval subsequent occasions. his "state papers and letters," edited by arthur clifford, with a memoir by sir walter scott, edinb. , vols. to, is a work of great importance for illustrating the history of the period to which they relate. [ ] lady jane seymour. [ ] in vautr. edit., and in ms. g, hamilton's name is omitted. [ ] the commissioners sent to england in march - , were sir james learmonth of balcomie, treasurer; sir william hamilton of sanquhar; and henry balnaves of halhill, secretary. their names frequently occur in the political transactions of the period. they returned to edinburgh sometime between the th and st of july . in the course of their negotiation, (in may,) the earl of glencairn and sir george douglas wore joined with them. see sadler's state papers, vol. i. pp. - , , . [ ] alluding to the pensions granted by the english monarch, as an effectual mode of securing such persons to his interest. [ ] in vautr. edit. "solon mosse." the rout of the scotch forces at solway took place on the th of november . among the state papers (vol. v. p. ) recently published, is a document intitled, "the yerely value of the lands, and also the value and substance in goodis, of the scottish prisoners lately taken at salone mosse." the principal persons were the earls of cassilis and glencairne, lords somerville, maxwell, gray, oliphant, and flemyng, oliver sinclair, george hume of eyton, robert erskine son of lord erskine, walter seton of tough, patrick hepburn of waughton, and john ross of craigie. [ ] in vautr. edit. "immediately." [ ] the treaty of pacification between the two kingdoms, and the projected alliance of edward the sixth with queen mary, when she had attained the age of ten years, sanctioned by the parliament of scotland, th of june, was concluded at greenwich on the st of july . but this proceeding, as stated in the text, was opposed by cardinal beaton and the french faction. (see next note.) the commissioners, however, as mentioned in the preceding note, having returned, this treaty, on the th of august, was solemnly ratified by the governor, "at the high mass, solemnly sung with shalms and sack-buts, in the abbey church of the holyroodhouse," and the great seal of scotland appended to the treaty.--(rymer's foedera, vol. xiv. pp. - ; acta parl. scot. vol. ii. pp. , ; sadler's state papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. the words, "and they made a brag to depose the governour," are omitted.--sadler, on the th of july , writes to the english monarch, that the governor had informed him of the intention of the cardinal and his party "to come to linlithgow to surprize the young queen, _and afterwards_, (if they can,) _to depose and put him downe_."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) and in another letter from edinburgh, dated the d of july, he says, "_i thinke they woll not fight, for all their bragges._ the cardynall and his complices do lye at lythcoo, with the nomber of or ; and the governour and his frendes and adherentes, with or , do lye here in this toune, not myle a sonder; and ambassadours go bytwen them to treate the matiers, so that, by treatie, it is thought they shall agree, and no hurte done."--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] this sentence, on to the words "confouud all," is written on the margin of the ms. with this addition, "as after follows;" which, i presume, has reference to the concluding part of the sentence, although it is partially deleted. the statement is not only correct in itself, but is required for the context. in ms. g, vautr. edit., and all the other copies, while the marginal addition, "the papists raged," &c., and also the words, "as after follows," are incorporated with the text, the clause, "and without delay," &c., is wholly omitted. [ ] sir james foulis of colinton was appointed clerk-register in , and was also admitted a lord of session, at the first meeting of the court, on the th of may . he held the office of clerk-register till , the year before his death. the treasurer paid "to maister henry foullis, for his umquhill fatheris feyes, in the yeris of god and , £ , s. d." [ ] in vautr. edit. "preparation." [ ] john hamilton, abbot of paisley. he arrived in scotland between the d and th of april . [ ] george crichton, a son of crichton of naughton, (keith's bishops, p. ,) must have been far advanced in life at this time. he was a fellow-student with dunbar the poet at st. andrews, having taken his master's degree in the year . he was abbot of holyroodhouse, which he probably resigned on obtaining possession of the see of dunkeld, previously to november . in , he was nominated an extraordinary lord of session, (senators of the college of justice, p. ;) and died on the th of january . [ ] see note . [ ] or, bellenden, justice-clerk. see note . [ ] it is surprising that sir david lyndesay, among the various persons who were accused of heresy, should have escaped all persecution. for a time, the personal attachment of james the fifth may explain this exemption, having been in his service since the king's infancy; but the effects of lyndesay's satirical writings must have rendered him peculiarly obnoxious to the clergy. yet we find him officially employed in foreign missions, as lyon-king at arms, till within a short time of his death, which took place about the year . [ ] michael durham appears among the determinants in st. leonard's college, st. andrews, in , and the licentiates in . it is probable he then went abroad, and took a degree in medicine at some foreign university. from the treasurer's accounts, we learn that for a short period before the death of james the fifth, he was king's physician:-- , july or august, "item, to maister michaell durehame, doctour in medecyne, (enterit before the last feist of whitsunday,) for his half yearis fee, £ ." , jan., "item, gevin to maister michael durehame, doctour in medecyne, be one precept in recompensatioun of service done be him to our sovernne lord, quhome god assolze, and for the rest of his feis, as his said precept beris, £ ." [ ] the name of david borthwick occurs among the determinants in the pedagogy of st. andrews, in . he became king's advocate, and will be afterwards noticed. [ ] in ms. g, "to the uter point of ruyne." [ ] james second earl of arran was the grandson of sir james hamilton of cadzow, created lord hamilton in , and the princess mary, daughter of james the second, and relict of thomas boyd, earl of arran. his father was thrice married. his first wife was beatrix drummond, by whom he had one daughter, married to andrew stewart lord evandale and ochiltree. his second wife was lady elizabeth home, sister of alexander earl of home, from whom he obtained a divorce in . janet, daughter of sir david beaton of creich, comptroller of scotland, was his third wife, by whom he had his son james, second earl of arran; but who being born during the life of his father's divorced wife, his legitimacy depended on the validity of his divorce. had he, in such a case, been set aside, matthew earl of lennox would have been next in succession. [ ] the infant queen, who had hitherto been kept in the palace of linlithgow, (note ,) was brought to stirling on the d of july , (note .) after the governor's very inconsistent proceedings in the month of august, and his reconciliation with the cardinal, queen mary was crowned with great ceremony, on the th of september . the following entries are from the treasurer's accounts:-- . "item, the fourth day of august, be my lord governoris precept and speciall command, deliverrit to mathew hammiltoun, capitane and kepar of the palice of linlithqw, for furnesyng of the said palice, the sowme of £ . "item, to the lord levingstoun, for keping of the princes[s] in linlithqw, quhilk was awin him the sum of £ , s. d. october. "item, to the lord levingstoun, for keping of the princes[s] in striveling, fra the xxiij day of julij in anno domini etc. xliij^o to the last day of this moneth of october inclusive, £ ." [ ] in ms. g, "with him than in." [ ] all this took place about the d of september, or within nine days of the governor's ratification of the english alliance, mentioned in note , and six days of his having issued a proclamation against the cardinal.--(sadler's papers, vol. i. pp. , , .) [ ] on the th of september : see note . [ ] sadler, in this embassy, arrived in edinburgh in march . notwithstanding the treaty referred to in a previous note, he did not succeed in the great object of his mission at this time, that of gaining the governor to a steady adherence to his original policy of favouring the reformed doctrines, and adhering to the english in opposition to the french interest. sadler was recalled in december ; and the country was speedily invaded and devastated by the english troops. [ ] matthew earl of lennox returned to scotland, by the advice of cardinal beaton, and landed at dumbarton on the last day of march . [ ] a blank in the ms. and in all the copies. the name of somerville is supplied on the authority of letters from sir ralph sadler to henry the eighth, and from the privy council of england to sadler.--(sadler, vol. i. p. ; state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] sir hugh campbell of loudon. [ ] in ms. g, "was efter tane in the lenterne, at the siege of glasgw." [ ] john charteris of couthilgourdy had been elected provost of perth, st october , but was discharged, by appointment of the governor, th january - , when mr. alexander m'breck was chosen. patrick lord ruthven, who was chosen provost on the th october , was attempted to be discharged on the th january - , and to be replaced by john charteris; but the ruthven party prevailing, charteris was not admitted. the skirmish of which knox here gives a minute and accurate description, took place on the d of july , when lord gray's partizans were repulsed with a loss of upwards of sixty men.--(adamson's muses threnodie, by cant, pp. , , .) lord gray, in october that year, received from the cardinal a grant of part of the lands of rescobie in forfarshire, for his "ready and faithful help and assistance in these dangerous times of the church." [ ] patrick master of ruthven was the oldest son of patrick third lord ruthven, the principal actor in rizzio's murder, on the th march , and who fled into england, where he died on the th june that year. having predeceased his father, and leaving no issue, patrick was succeeded by his next brother, william, who is styled master of ruthven, in a charter, th april . this son, who was afterwards created earl of gowrye, was also concerned with his father in the murder of rizzio. [ ] moncrieffe of moncrieffe, in the parish of dunbarny, perthshire. [ ] mary magdalene's day, the d of july. but the year was , and not : see note ; and the diurnal of occurrents, p. , where forty persons are said to have been slain. [ ] in ms. g, "a pretty spaice fra the fische-yet." [ ] sadler, on the th of november , states that "the governor and cardinal are now gone over the water of forth, into fife and angus," to gain the earl of rothes, the lords gray, ogilvy, and glammis, to their party, "either by force or policy."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] castle huntley, in the parish of longforgan, built by the second lord gray of foulis. he had extensive possessions in the carse of gowrye, and according to tradition, he named the castle after his lady, a daughter of the earl of huntley. [ ] in ms. g, "balgawy." the place referred to is balgavie, near innergowrye, two or three miles from dundee, on the road to perth. [ ] the old name of the city of perth. [ ] the provost of st. andrews in , was sir james learmonth of balcomie, or dairsye. [ ] in vautr. edit. "their friend." [ ] the marginal explanation having been taken into the text, the later copies read as if the bishop of st. andrews and the abbot of paisley were different persons. john hamilton, abbot of paisley, became cardinal beaton's successor in the metropolitan see. in ms. g, the passage reads, "this answer reported, was send to thame the bishop of sanct andrewes, the abbot of pasley, mr. david panter," &c., "to desyre," &c. in vautr. edit. it is still further from the correct reading, by the omission of _thame_, "this answer reported, was sent to the bishop of sainct andrewes, the abbot of pasley," &c. [ ] this proverbial phrase, "ay rynnis the fox, quhill he fute hes," occurs at the end of a poem "againis treason," by dunbar.--(poems, vol. i. p. .) [ ] the parliament met at edinburgh, in december , and the following act against hereticks was passed on the th; which may be quoted in connexion with the proceedings at perth in the following month,-- "the quhilk day, my lord governour causit to be schewin and proponit in plane parliament to all estatis being thair gaderit, how thair is gret murmure _that heretikis mair and mair risis and spredis within this realme_, sawand dampnable opinionis incontrar the fayth and lawis of haly kirk, actis and constitutionis of this realme: exhortand thairfor all prelatis and ordinaris, ilkane within thair awin diocy and jurisdictioun, to inquir apoun all sic manor of personis, and proceid aganis thame according to the lawis of haly kirk; and my said lord governour salbe rady at all tymes to do thairin that accordis him of his office."--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) [ ] st. paul's day was the th of january, and the year - , is fixed by the reference to "the first burning of edinburgh," by the english troops under the earl of hertford, in may . (see note .) keith, and his editor mr. parker lawson, are at a loss to reconcile the dates of the governor and cardinal's visit to perth, and the execution of the persons mentioned by knox. knox's account of these martyrs at perth is corroborated not only by the more detailed account given in foxe's martyrs, (p. ,) but by the following extracts from the treasurer's accounts. the governor spent his yule or christmas, , not at st. andrews, but at stirling. the following were payments made by the treasurer:-- , december. "item, in the tyme of zule, deliverit to my lord governour, to play at the cartis with the quenis grace in striviling, in ane hundreth crownis of the sonn, £ ." - , "item, the xij day of januar, efter the aggreance maid betuix my lord governour and the saidis lordis, (earl of levinox, &c.,) at convenit in leith againis his grace, hyrit liiij cart hors, quhilk past agane to striveling with the said artalze, and fra striveling to sanct jhonstoun [and] dunde, _for punising certane heretikis_ within the saidis townis, and payit to the saidis hors viij dayis wagis, to every hors on the day iij s.... summa, lxiiij lib. xvj s. "item, xx jannarij, after the counsale and convention haldin at striviling, at my lord governoris departing towart sanct johnstoun _for punischment as said is_, hyrit to turs certane small artalze with his grace thair, xxvj cart hors, to ilk hors the day iij s.... summa, xxxj lib. iiij s. "item, to xij pyoneris, quhilkis past and convoyit the said small artalze, viij dayis wagis, to every man in the day ij s. summa, ix lib. xij s." in mercer's chronicle of perth, is this brief notice, "the execution of james hunter, robert lambe, james ronaldstone, and his spouse, at perth, in januar, in sanct pawlis day. [- ] yeiris." [ ] his name was robert, not william lamb, burgess of perth. calderwood has given a detailed account, as related by "mr. john davidson, a diligent searcher in the last acts of our martyrs," of the manner in which lamb interrupted friar spence, when preaching on all-hallow-day. see wodrow society edit, of his history, vol. i. p. . he also states that knox's account of these perth martyrs "is confirmed by the registers of the justice-court, where it is registered, that robert lamb, merchant in perth, james ranoldsone, skinner, william andersone, maltman, james hunter, fleshour, were convicted of art and part in breaking the act of parliament, by holding an assemblie and convention in sanct anne's chappell, in the spey-yards, upon sanct andrewes day [ th nov.] last by past, conferring and disputing there upon the holie scriptures.... item, helen stirk, spous to james ranoldsone, convicted becaus of art and part in breaking the acts of parliament, in dishonouring the virgin marie." see also foxe's martyrs, p. . the executions at this time are thus very summarily noticed in the diurnal of occurrents, (p. ,)-- "upoun the xxviij day of januare [ - ,] the governour with his lordis past to sanct johnstoun and dundie, and brunt mony limmaris in the said tolbuis [townis]." [ ] sir henry elder, as his name denotes, was in priest's orders; and john elder, we may suppose, was his brother. in a list of the magistrates of perth, elected th oct. , we find "john elder, treasurer;" and, as a burgess of the town, he is to be distinguished from john elder "the redshank," who fled at this time into england. (see appendix, no. vi.) in the treasurer's accounts, - , there was £ paid as the composition for the remission granted to john elder, burgess of perth, and also £ for the similar exemption given to laurence pillour, "pro disputatione in sacris scripturis contra tenorem acti parliamenti."--(m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. .) [ ] in the ms. "broking." [ ] in ms. g, &c., "eye." [ ] in vautr. edit. "granton hilles." [ ] in vautr. edit. "the hilles." [ ] in ms. g, "sir george." sir george douglas of pittendreich was brother of the earl of angus. [ ] blackness castle, in the parish of carriden, linlithgowshire, close to the river forth, about five or six miles above south queensferry. this is one of the four fortresses which were stipulated in the act of union, in , to be kept in repair. [ ] in vautr. edit. "between one and two of the clock." [ ] during this expedition under the earl of hertford, the town of edinburgh, with the exception of the castle, was "utterly ruinate and destroyed with fire," during the space of four successive days; "also, we brent th'abbey called holy rode-house, and the pallice adjonynge to the same." this took place in the beginning of may .--(dalyell's fragments of scotish history, p. .) [ ] in ms. g, the word "judged" is omitted.--craigmillar castle, now a picturesque ruin, in the parish of libberton, is about three miles south from edinburgh. the english forces, on the th of may , "past to craiginillar, quhilk was haistilie gevin to thame: promesed to keip the samyne without skaith; quhilk promes thai break, and brunt and destroyit the said hous."--(diurnal of occurrents, p. .) [ ] sir simon preston of craigmillar. he was provost of edinburgh in , and three following years. his father, simon preston, had been provost in . [ ] the tron, or beam, used for weighing merchandize, stood in the high street, nearly opposite what is now called the tron church. but the butter-tron was probably at the building afterwards called the weigh-house, which stood nearly in the middle of the street, at the head of the west bow, leading to the castle. [ ] among the spoils, it is stated, that the furniture and library in the palace of holyrood were carried off; including a fine brazen font from the abbey. (see archæologia scotica, vol. iv. p. .) but some of the books and furniture had previously been removed by the governor to hamilton palace, where probably they are still preserved. on the th of may the treasurer paid, "be his gracis speciall command, to certane pure men quhilkis tursit (carried) his gracis cofferis out of the palice of halyrudhous to the castell of edinburgh, and fra thare to the castell of hammiltoun, the soume of xj lib." "item, (on the th of may,) to ane pure man of edinburgh, quhilkis savit fifty-pece of weschell of my lord governouris, the tyme of the inglische menis being thair, and deliverit the samyn to sir david hammiltoun, x s." [ ] ancrum moor, about a mile and a half to the north of the village of that name, in the county of roxburgh. the battle took place on the th of february - , when sir ralph evers was slain, and the english forces routed. [ ] captain de lorge montgomery, with about men, arrived from france in may or june .--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. pp. - .) [ ] the castle of wark, a border fortress, on the bank of the river tyne in northumberland, near coldstream. [ ] in vautr. edit. "great slaverie." [ ] in ms. g, "the frenche captane." [ ] matthew stewart fourth earl of lennox, had retired to england in . he married lady margaret douglas, daughter of the earl of angus and margaret, widow of king james the fourth. she was thus niece of the english monarch, at whose court she resided until her marriage. their son was henry lord darnley, who married mary queen of scots. the earl of lennox became regent of scotland in , upon the death of the earl of murray. [ ] john hamilton, archbishop of st. andrews, was a natural son of james first earl of arran. he pursued his studies first at glasgow, and afterwards at paris. in , he obtained the rich abbacy of paisley; and as abbot he sat in the parliaments of and . his relationship to the governor, over whom he obtained great influence, led to his rapid promotion. he was successively lord privy seal, high treasurer, bishop of dunkeld, and a judge in the court of session. on the death of cardinal beaton, he became his successor as primate. the "catechisme," which usually passes under his name, from having been printed at his expense, at st. andrews, in , exhibits a solitary instance on the part of the roman catholic clergy to convey spiritual instruction, and is most creditable to his memory. [ ] that is, the abbot of paisley now began, &c. [ ] in the ms. this word _eme's_, at first inaccurately written, was corrected, but not distinctly, and led to the substitution of _enemies wyfe_, in all the other copies. _eme_ usually means _uncle_; here it merely signifies _kinsman_. [ ] lady grizell sempill was the eldest daughter of robert third lord sempill, and was the second wife of james hamilton of stenhouse, captain of the castle of edinburgh. a charter under the great seal was granted of the lands of kittiemuir, on the th of march , "jacobi hamilton de stanehouse et grizeldi sempill ejus conjugi." her husband, who was provost of edinburgh, was slain in endeavouring to quell a tumult between some of the auxiliary troops quartered in the canongate, and the inhabitants, on the st of october . [ ] in ms. g, "gilston;" and in vautr. edit., &c., "haldin in povertie." it probably means, that her connexion with the archbishop always continued. some further notice of this lady will be given in a subsequent note. [ ] george martine, in his "reliquiæ divi andreæ," written in , has given an account of hamilton, in which, in reference to the archbishop and this lady, he says, "i have seen copies of charters granted by this archbishop to william, john, and james hamiltons, his three naturall sones born of this grizzell sempill; and they are designed her naturall sones, but they came all to be forfeited." (p. .) letters of legitimation of john and william hammylton, bastard sons of grissel sempill, daughter of robert master of sempill, were dated th oct. .--(reg. mag. sigill.) [ ] knox places wishart's return to scotland in , although the commissionars to whom he alludes came back in july . the exact time has not been well ascertained: see appendix, no. ix. [ ] in ms. g, "a litill space." [ ] william fourth earl marishall, according to sadler's report to henry, th march , was "a goodly young gentleman, well given to your majesty, as i take him." he was friendly to the reformation, and survived till about the year .--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "locnoreis." the person referred to was george crawfurd of leifnorris, or loch norris, now called dumfries house, the seat of the marquess of bute, in the parish of old cumnock, ayrshire. [ ] gaston, or galston, a parish in the district of kyle. [ ] this phrase, "used much in the bar," signifies that he frequented the house of barr, the seat of john lockhart of barr, in the parish of galston. [ ] sir hugh campbell of loudoun, was hereditary sheriff of the county of ayr. [ ] the persons here named were all proprietors of lands in ayrshire. mongarswood, or monkgarswood, is in the parish of mauchline; bronnsyde, in sorne; dawdeling, (in vautr. edit. "dawdilling,") or daldilling, also in the parish of sorne; and tempilland, in that of auchinleck. the crawfurds were proprietors of templeland; and the reids of daldilling, appear in the retours and , in the succession of their property.--(ayr, nos. and .) [ ] kinyeancleuch is in the parish of mauchline. hugh campbell was a cadet of the campbells of loudoun; and his son robert campbell of kinyeancleuch, who is afterwards mentioned, was a special friend of knox, and much distinguished himself by his singular zeal and devotedness in promoting the reformation. [ ] in vautr. edit. "shaw." laurence rankin, laird of sheill, in the parish of ochiltree, ayrshire. [ ] the year is the date usually assigned for the ravages of the plague in dundee. it would seem to have prevailed in different parts of the country for two or three successive years. the probable time of wishart's visit on that occasion may have been in august , as we are told, "in this tyme the pest was wonder greit in all burrowis townis of this realme, quhair mony peipill deit with great skant and want of victuallis."--(diurnal of occurrents, p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "at lycht parte." [ ] during the sixteenth century, the town of dundee was surrounded by a double wall, with ports or gates, which were all removed about sixty years ago, with the exception of the east gate, called the cowgate port, which was then "allowed to stand, from respect to wishart's memory, and his services to the inhabitants of dundee, during the plague of ; and it is still kept in good preservation."--(new stat. account, forfarshire, p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "thay thrist in." [ ] john kynneir of kynneir, in the parish of kilmany, in fife. he was served heir to his father david kynneir _de eodem_, in the lands and barony of kynneir, th july .--(retours, fife, no. .) [ ] in vautr. edit., mss. g, a, &c., "i shall ende my lyfe." [ ] john erskine of dun, near montrose, a zealous and consistent friend of the reformation. after the establishment of the reformation, in july , although a layman, he was admitted to the office of superintendent of angus and mearns. [ ] in ms. g, "with money siches and deip grones, he plat doun." in vautr. edit. "he fell upon." [ ] in ms. g, "keape-stone:" vautr. edit. has "keepe stone." [ ] the words following "to meitt him," are a subsequent marginal addition by the author. [ ] in ms. g, "and this the fyftein day befoir yuill." vautr. reads, "the xv day before christmas." [ ] that is, alexander crichton of brunstone, hugh douglas of long-niddry, and john cockburn of ormiston.--as there are two places of the name of brunstone in mid-lothian, it may be proper to notice, that it must have been the old castle now in ruins, in the parish of pennycuik, where wishart occasionally resided, and not the house of that name, at the eastern extremity of libberton parish, which was built, or afterwards belonged to the lauderdale family. see a subsequent note respecting the crichtons of brunstone. [ ] or inveresk, six miles from edinburgh. [ ] sir george douglas of pittendreich, was a younger son of george, master of angus, who was killed at floddon in , and brother of archibald, seventh earl of angus. "he was, (says sir walter scott,) a man of spirit and talents; shared with his brother in the power which he possessed during the minority of james v.; was banished with him, and almost all the name of douglas, into england, where they remained till the death of the king; and were then sent by henry back to their native country, along with the solway prisoners, in order to strengthen the english party in scotland."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. , note.) his name appears on the st of april , as an extraordinary lord of session, which disproves the account in douglas's peerage of his having been killed at pinkie, in september . having predeceased his brother, his eldest son, in , became eighth earl of angus. [ ] in ms. g, "audience." [ ] in ms. g, "auditors." [ ] david forres, or forrest, is several times mentioned by knox: he afterwards held the office of general of the conzie house or mint. [ ] sir richard maitland of lethington: see note .--the house of lethington, being a massive old tower, with some modern additions, and now called lennox love, is rather more than a mile to the south of haddington. [ ] this is the first occasion on which knox introduces himself. [ ] in ms. g, the words after "world," are omitted. [ ] clerk plays was another name for those dramatic entertainments, which in france and england were known under the title of _mysteries_, and which were usually founded on some passage of scripture. [ ] long-niddry is situated in the parish of gladsmuir, east-lothian, about four miles from tranent, near the shore of the firth. [ ] in ms. g, "mirrelie." [ ] these lines occur in a metrical version of some of the psalms, visually, and no doubt correctly, attributed to john wedderburn, vicar of dundee. whether there was any printed edition so early as , cannot be ascertained; but there was a large impression ( copies) of what was culled "the dundee psalms," printed in scotland before , in the stock of robert smyth, bookseller in edinburgh.--(bannatyne miscellany, vol. ii. pp. , .) the collection of psalms and sacred poems, known by the title of "the gude and godly ballates," may have been the psalms alluded to; and of this collection there still exist one copy at least of editions printed at edinburgh, by john ross, in ; by robert smyth, in ; and again by andre hart, in . in this collection is found the version of the st psalm, mentioned by knox as having been sung by wishart. it extends to verses: the first four may serve as a specimen. the reader may consult calderwood's history, vol. i. pp. - , for an interesting account of the family of james wedderburn, merchant in dundee, his eldest son james, and another son, as well as john the translator of the psalms, having distinguished themselves by their "good gifts of poesie." _miserere mei deus._ psal. . have mercy on me, god of might, of mercy lord and king; for thy mercy is set full right above all eirdly thing. therefore i cry baith day and night, and with my hert sail sing: to thy mercy with thee will i go. have mercy on me, (o gude lord,) efter thy greit mercy. my sinfull life does me remord, quhilk sair hes grevit thee: bot thy greit grace hes mee restord, throw grace, to libertie: to thy mercy with thee will i go. _et secundum multitudinem._ gude lord i knaw my wickednes, contrair to thy command, rebelland ay with cruelnes, and led me in ane band to sathan, quha is merciles; zit, lord, heir me cryand: to thy mercy with thee will i go. quhat king can tell the multitude, lord, of thy greit mercy, sen sinners hes thy celsitude resisted cruellie. zit na sinner will thou seclude, that this will cry to thee: to thy mercie with thee will i go. [ ] patrick third earl of bothwell succeeded his father in , when an infant. in , he was lord of liddesdale, and keeper of the royal castle of hermitage. sir ralph sadler, on the th of may that year, says of him, "as to the earl of bothwell, who, as ye know, hath the rule of liddersdale, i think him the most vain and insolent man in the world, full of pride and folly, and here, i assure you, nothing at all esteemed."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) at the time of wishart's apprehension, he was high sheriff of the county of haddington. in douglas and wood's peerage of scotland, (vol. i. pp. - ,) will be found a detailed account of his subsequent fortunes. he died, probably in exile, in september . [ ] elphingstone tower is situated in the parish of tranent, about two miles from the village of that name. [ ] in ms. g, "over you." [ ] in ms. g, "persuasion." [ ] in ms. g, "promeis." [ ] this name drundallon, or dwndallon, is not very distinct in the ms., and no such place is now known. [ ] john cockburn of ormiston.--in the diurnal of occurrents, p. , it is stated, that "upoun the xvj day of januar, the governour and the cardinall, to the nomber of men, past to ormestoun, [some words here omitted?] and the yong laird of calder; they war all brocht and put in the castell of edinburgh; and the laird of ormestoun, and the yong laird of calder followand, was tane be the capitane, callit james hamiltoun of stanehous." wishart's name may have been omitted in this paragraph, but it fixes the date of his apprehension at ormiston. the following entries occur in the treasurer's accounts, on the th of march - ,-- "item, to jhonne patersoun, pursevant letters direct furth of edinburgh to ormistoun and haddingtoun, to summond the laird of ormistoun to underly the law in edinburgh the xiij day of apprile nyxt to cum, _for resetting of maister george wischeart, he being at the horne_, etc. and _for breking of the waird within the castell of edinburgh_, etc. togydder with ane other letter to arreist the saiddis lairdis gudis, etc., x s." "item, ( th of april,) with ane memoriall of the principall lordis and baronis namys of est louthiane, to summond thame to be in edinburgh xiij^th aprilis instant, to pass upon the assiss of the laird of ormistoiin, quho was to thoill law that day for brekking of our souerane ladyis waird within the castell of edinburgh." [ ] hailes castle is situated in a secluded spot on the banks of the tyne, in the parish of prestonkirk, east lothian. it belonged at this time to the earl of bothwell. the ruins still shew that it must have been of considerable extent and strength, like most buildings of the kind intended for a place of defence. [ ] in ms. g, "keipit." [ ] the following is an act of council, obliging bothwell to deliver to the governor the person of george wishart, on the th of january - ,-- "the quhilk day, in presens of my lord governour and lords of counsel, comperit patrick erle bothuell, and hes bundin and oblist him to deliver maister george wischart to my lord governour, or ony utheris in his behalf, quham he will depute to ressave him betuix this and the penult day of januar instant _inclusive_, and sal kepe him surelie, and answer for him in the meyn tyme, under all the hiest pane and charge that he may incur, giff he falzies herintill."--(regist. concil. fol. ; epist. regum scotorum, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] there seems no reason to question the accuracy of these dates; although spotiswood marks wishart's execution as having taken place on the d of march ; and mr. tytler says the th, adopting an evident blunder in the "diurnal of occurrents," where the th of march, instead of the th of february, is given as the day when the council was held for wishart's trial and condemnation. his execution took place on the following day. i observe that at page of the miscellany of the wodrow society, i have fallen into the same mistake. [ ] this word is omitted in ms. g. [ ] pitscottie mentions, that the cardinal having sent to the governor for a "commissioun and ane judge criminall to give doom on maister george, if the clergie fand him guiltie;" the governor, upon the remonstrance of sir david hamilton, was persuaded to write to the cardinal "to continue (or postpone) the accusatioun of maister george wisehart quhyll he and he spoke togidder; and if he wold not, his awin blood be upon his awin head, for he would not consent that any man sould suffer persecutioun at that tyme."--(dalyell's edit., p. .) [ ] gawin dunbar was a younger son of sir john dunbar of mochrun. he pursued his studies at glasgow. in he was appointed dean of moray. in the following year obtained the priory of whithorn in galloway; and was intrusted with the education of james the fifth. in the treasurer's accounts, , are the following entries:-- "item, xvj^to februarij [ - ,] gevin to maister gawin dunbar, _the kingis maister_, to by necessar thingis for the kingis chamer, ix lib. "item, (the th day of august,) to maister gawan dunbar, _the kingis maister_, for expensis maid be him in reparaling of the chamer in the quhilk the king leris now, in the castell, iij lib." on the translation of james beaton to the primacy, dunbar was promoted to the see of glasgow; and he continued to enjoy the favour of his royal pupil during the whole of his reign. he held the office of lord chancellor from to ; and died on the th of april . a detailed account of this prelate is given in brunton and haig's senators of the college of justice, pp. - . [ ] see note . [ ] the castle and episcopal palace of glasgow stood a little to the westward of the cathedral church. the building, with its site and garden, having been vested in the crown, when episcopacy was abolished, were granted in the year , for the purpose of erecting an infirmary; and the ancient but ruinous building was then removed.--(caledonia, vol. iii. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "knypsed." [ ] in ms. g, "as sum bold men." [ ] in vautr. edit. "merilie." [ ] in vautr. edit. "bitter mirth." [ ] this ludicrous but unbecoming contest seems to have taken place on the th of june , when mons. lorge de montgomery arrived from france with auxiliary troops: "upon the same day, the bischope of glasgow pleit with the cardinall about the bering of his croce in his dyocie, and boith thair croccis war brokin, in the kirk of glasgow, through thair stryving for the samin."--(diurnal of occurrents, p. .) bishop lesley mentions it as having occurred at an earlier period, when the patriarch of venice, who was sent by the pope, first came to glasgow, when "the cardinall and the principall bischoppes come thair and ressaved him with gret honour. bot in the meintyme, (he adds,) thair happinned ane suddane discord within the kirk of glasgw, betuix the cardinall and bischoppe of glasgw, for thair pre-heminence of the bering of the cardinallis crosse within that kirk, quhair boith the archebischoppes crosses was brokin, and diverse of thair gentill men and servandis wes hurt."--(hist. p. .) cornelius le brun, a dutch traveller, describes a similar contest which took place, whilst he was at rome during the jubilee of , between two processions meeting first in a narrow street, near monte cavallo, and afterwards in the church of st. john, in laterano, in which several persons were killed, to the great scandal of religion. but the italians, he says, "qui sont plaisans de leur naturel et encline à la raillerie se mocquoient furieusement de cette avanture."--(voyage en levant, p. . delft, , folio.) [ ] this, according to tradition, was the eastern tower or corner, and the place of wishart's execution was nearly opposite, at the foot of what is called castle wynd. spotiswood says, "a scaffold in the meantime erecting on the east part of the castle towards the abbey, with a great tree in the middest, in manner of a gibbet, into which the prisoner was to be tied.... the fore tower was hanged with tapestry, and rich cushions laid for case of the cardinal and prelates, who were to behold that spectacle."--(history, p. .) [ ] as stated in note , "the actes and monumentes of martyrs," by john foxe, was originally printed at london, by john daye, in , in a large volume in folio. it was "newly recognized and enlarged by the author," in , when he incorporated a number of passages relating to martyrs in scotland, which he gives on this authority, "_ex scripto testimonio scotorum_." in many places of these additions, the details are more minute than the corresponding passages in knox's history; yet there is such a coincidence in the information, that foxe may possibly have been indebted for some of them to the scotish reformer. the account of wishart, however, is copied from a printed book: see notes , . [ ] the title of the accusation and the introductory paragraph, are not contained in knox's ms., but are supplied from foxe, edit. . [ ] dean john wynrame was born in , and educated at st. andrews. in , his name occurs among the determinants in st. salvator's college. the date of his appointment as sub-prior of the monastery of st. andrews has not been ascertained. but on the th of nov. , he is styled in the "regist. fac. art.," dominus joh. wynrame, sup^r. sancti andree coenobii. his name often occurs in knox, in connexion with transactions of a later date. see m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. ; bannatyne miscellany, vol. i. p. . [ ] in ms. g, "as sayis the apostle paull." [ ] it will be observed that all these opprobrious terms applied to lauder are copied from foxe, or rather from the black-letter tract, printed by john daye, of which dr. m'crie has given a description in his life of knox, vol. i. p. . [ ] in ms. g, the words "writtin," &c., to "cursingis," are omitted. [ ] mr. john lauder, who acted as public accuser or prosecutor on other occasions, as well as this of wishart, was educated at st. andrews. his name occurs among the licentiates "in pedagogio," in the year . in a decree arbitral, dated at st. andrews, th october , he thus designates himself: "ego johannes lauder, artium magister, clericus sancti andreæ diocesis, publicus sacris apostolica et imperiali auctoritatibus notarius, ac in officio scriptoris archivii romane curie matriculatus ac descriptus."--(rental book of st. andrews, .) from the treasurer's accounts we find that he was frequently employed in ecclesiastical negotiations. thus in ,-- "item, to maister johne lauder, to pass to rome in the kingis erandis, maid in fynance v^c [ ] frankis, price of ilk frank x s. vi d., scottis money, £ , s. "item, gevin to him at his departing, to by him horse and other necessaris, £ . "item, to robene bertoun, for the fraucht of ane litill schip, in the quhilk the said maister johne past in flanderes, £ . "item, dresses to his twa servandis," &c. again, in ,-- "item, to maister johne lauder, to performeis certaine the kingis grace's erandis in rome, j^m [ ] frankis, summa, £ ." in july ,-- "item, to maister johnne lauder, for his [laubours] in writing of directionis to the courte of [rome?] for promotioun of the abbayis of coldinghame, [kelso, and] melros, to the kingis; grace sonis." [ ] in foxe, "your doctrine uttereth many blasphemous," &c. [ ] in foxe, "with." [ ] in foxe, "high voyce." [ ] the words inclosed in brackets, are omitted in knox's ms., and in all the subsequent copies, such as ms. g, vautr. edit., &c. they are however necessary for the context, and are supplied from foxe. [ ] see note . [ ] see a subsequent note respecting cardinal beaton. [ ] the bishop of brechin (john hepburn, see page ) hearing that george wishart taught the greek new testament in the school of montrose, summoned him to appear on a charge of heresy, upon which wishart fled the kingdom. this was in the year . see appendix, no. ix. [ ] in foxe, and vautr. edit., "gospell." [ ] in knox's ms., and vautr. edit., "it is." [ ] in foxe, and vautr. edit., "gospell." [ ] in foxe, "punishment;" in vautr. edit. "trespasse." [ ] foxe gives the passage as follows: "knowledge your faultes one to an other, and praye one for an other, that you may be healed." [ ] the whole of this sentence, after the quotation from the epistle of james, is omitted in foxe, edit. .--it may have been an explanatory remark by knox. [ ] in foxe, "grynned;" and the word "horned" before "bischopis," is omitted. in vautr. edit. "gyrned." [ ] in vautr. edit. "bleitter chaplin;" and in ms. g, "blecter." pitscottie has "blaitter:" it may be only a term of reproach, and not the name of a person. [ ] in vautr. edit. "child." pitscottie, who introduces wishart's accusation, but somewhat condensed, in this place makes it, "than answered ane yong scoller boy, 'it is a devillish taill to say so: for the devill can not move a man to speik as yon man dois.'" [ ] sailing on the rhine. it may have been during this visit to germany, and probably switzerland, that wishart employed himself in translating the first confession of faith of the helvetian churches. this confession was printed after wishart's death, about the year , and has been reprinted, for the first time, in the "miscellany of the wodrow society," vol. i. pp. - . [ ] in the ms. "jew," and "jewes," are written "jow," and "jowes." [ ] the concluding words of this sentence from "earth: and" &c., are omitted in the printing, by vautroullier, at the foot of page , or the top of page . a similar omission occurs in mss. i, a, and w: the two latter keeping out the words "and spitted into the." [ ] in foxe, "auditorie." [ ] in foxe, "dumbe as a beetle." [ ] in foxe, "hold my peace" [ ] in foxe, "dumbe." [ ] as in foxe, and in ms. g, &c., this evidently should be "provinciall." [ ] in foxe, "woodnes." [ ] see some notices of scot, at page .--in foxe, "called joh. gray-finde scot." [ ] in foxe, "dumbe." [ ] in foxe, "to voyde away." [ ] in foxe, "warders." [ ] dean john wynrame: see note . [ ] david buchanan has an interpolation in this place, (see appendix, no. i.,) respecting wishart's dispensing the sacrament, on the morning of his execution, to the captain of the castle. it is nearly the same as in george buchanan's history, and pitscottie's chronicle, but somewhat condensed. [ ] in foxe, "sup." [ ] in foxe, there is this marginal note: "m. george wyscheart prophesieth of the death of the cardinall, what followed after."--david buchanan has here another interpolation, containing the alleged prediction by george wishart of cardinal beaton's death. it was probably copied from george buchanan: see the passage in appendix, no. i.--pitscottie also relates such a prediction, in the following words: "captain, god forgive yon man that lies so glorious on yon wall-head; but within few days, he shall lye as shamefull as he lyis glorious now."--(dalyell's edit. p. .) [ ] in foxe's work is introduced a wood-cut representation of "the martyrdome of m. george wiseheart;" he is suspended on a gibbet, in the midst of flames. it is evidently an imaginary portrait. [ ] the account of wishart, contained in foxe's martyrs, ends with the above words. it is followed by a paragraph, described in the margin as "the just judgment of god upon david beaton, a bloudy murtherer of god's saintes,"--which the reader will find copied into note . foxe acknowledges that he followed a printed work, (_ex histor. impressa_;) having in fact introduced a literal copy of the latter portion of a very rare tract, of which dr. m'crie has given a description in his life of knox, vol. i. p. . the general title is, "the tragicall death of dauid beato, bishoppe of sainct andrewes in scotland; whereunto is joyned the martyrdom of maister george wyseharte, gentleman, for whose sake the aforesayd bishoppe was not long after slayne," &c. the preface of "robert burrant to the reader," extends to twelve leaves. next follows sir david lyndesay's poem on the cardinall's death; and then "the accusation" of wishart, which foxe incorporates in his martyrology, from whence knox's copy is taken, as well as the abridged copy inserted in pitscottie's chronicle. the volume extends to signature f vi. in eights, black letter, without date, "imprinted at london, by john day and william seres." lyndesay's poem, under the title of "the tragedy," &c., is included in all the subsequent editions of his poems. see it quoted in a subsequent page. [ ] john lesley was the second son of william lesley, who was killed at floddon, along with his brother george second earl of rothes; william's eldest son, george, succeeding to the title in , as third earl. john lesley is styled late of parkhill in the summons of treason for the cardinal's slaughter; and we find that john lesley, rector of kynnore, and brother-german of george earl of rothes, had a charter of the king's lands of parkhill in fife, th march . he also held some office at court, as the treasurer, in december , paid "john leslie, bruther to the erle rothwes, be the kingis command, for his liveray," £ . again on the d oct. , there was "gevin to johnne leslye, broder to my lord of rothes, to by him clathis to his mariage," £ . he was taken prisoner at solway in , and released st july , upon payment of merks sterling. along with his nephew norman lesley, master of rothes, and the other conspirators, he was forfeited, th august ; and died without issue.--(douglas and wood's peerage, vol. ii. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "diet;" _seinzie_, is synod or assembly.--a provincial council or synod was appointed to be held in the black friars at edinburgh, on the th january - . knox says that the cardinal came to attend it, "after the pasche," or easter, ( th april ;) the meeting, therefore, had probably been adjourned. the archbishop of st. andrews, as lord hailes remarks, "was, at that period, understood to be perpetual president in provincial councils.... this may be imputed to the title of _legate_, which the archbishops of st. andrews had obtained from the papal see."--(histor. memorials, p. .) [ ] see note . [ ] norman lesley, as heir apparent to his father, is here called sheriff of fife. his father, george earl of rothes, was constituted hereditary sheriff of the county, by james the fifth, in the year . [ ] sir james leirmonth of balcomy and dairsye, in fife, was the son of david leirmonth of clatta, who acquired the estate of dairsye, in . he was for many years provost of st. andrews, between and . patrick leirmonth of dairsye, was served heir of his father, sir james leirmonth of balcomy, th march - .--(retours, fife, no. .) [ ] sir john melville of raith, knight: see a subsequent note. [ ] marion ogilvy was the daughter of sir james ogilvy, who was created lord ogilvy of airly, in the year , and who died about . her son, by cardinal beaton, was the ancestor of the beatons, or bethunes, of nether tarvet, (nisbet's heraldry, vol. i. p. ;) and it was her daughter, margaret beaton, whose marriage with david lindesay master of crawfurd, (and afterwards ninth earl,) the cardinal celebrated at finhaven in angus, almost immediately after wishart's death.--on the th november , letters were sent by a pursuevant, "chargeing marioun ogilby to find soverte to underly the lawis for interlyning of the quenis grace letteris." marion ogilvy, designed as lady melgund, died in june . in her testament, mention is made of her son, david betoun of melgund, and mr. alexander betoun, archdene of lothian. this alexander, it is said, became a protestant minister. [ ] in vautr. edit. "a morning sleepe." [ ] in vautr. edit. "into the foule sea;" in ms. g, "fowsie;" that is, the _fosse_, or ditch, which extended round the castle, except towards the sea. [ ] in ms. g, these three words are omitted. [ ] in vautr. edit. "the wicked gate;" in ms. g, "wickit yet." [ ] norman lesley, master of rothes, usually considered as having been the principal actor in the cardinal's slaughter, was the eldest son of george third earl of rothes. in june , there was furnished a gown of black satin, lined with black velvet, a doublet of black velvet, hose of paris black, a black bonnet, &c., "to normond leslie."--(treasurer's accounts.) and in august that year, at the king's command, the treasurer paid him £ . in december , dresses being also furnished to him, shews that he held some situation at court. after his forfeiture, he entered the service of the king of france, and died of his wounds, in the year , as will be related in a subsequent note. [ ] in vautr edit. "james melvin;" in ms. g, "melvell." [ ] in the summons of treason, he is styled peter carmichael of balmadie. how long this "stout gentleman" survived, is uncertain; but he appears to have been succeeded by his brother. a charter of confirmation under the great seal was passed, "_quondam petro carmichaell de balmadie_, euphemiæ wymes ejus conjugi, et quondam jacobo carmichaell de balmadie suo fratri," of the lands of kirkdrone, easter drone, balmadie, and quhelphill, in the shires of perth and lanark, th december . the next in succession seems to have been david, who died before : david carmichael of balmadie, on the th november , having been served heir of his father, david carmichael of balmadie. two years later, in another service, he is styled "dom. david carmichael de balmadie miles."--(retours, fife, no. , ; perth, , .) the lands of balmadie are in the lordship and regality of abernethy. [ ] in the summons of treason, he is called james melville elder. see footnote, where knox makes mention of his death, in france, under the year . [ ] knox must certainly be held responsible for this marginal note, which has given rise to so much abuse. but after all, this phrase, "_the godly fact and words_," applies to the _manner_ of putting beaton to death, as a just punishment inflicted on a persecutor of god's saints, rather than an express commendation of the act itself. [ ] david beaton was a younger son of john beaton of balfour, in fife. he was born in , and his name occurs in the registers of the university of st. andrews in , and of glasgow, in . he afterwards went to france, where he studied the civil and canon law. his first preferment was the rectorship of campsie, in , when he was designed "clericus s. andreæ diocesis;" and in that year he was made resident for scotland in the court of france. in , his uncle, james beaton, being made primate of st. andrews, resigned in his favour the commendatory of arbroath, or aberbrothock, reserving to himself, during life, the half of its revenues. david beaton sat, as abbot of arbroath, in the parliament . he was afterwards employed in public services abroad. in december , he was consecrated bishop of mirepoix in languedoc. the king of france contributed to beaton's advancement to the cardinalate, to which he was promoted by the title of "sti. stephani in monte coelio." in the same month he was made coadjutor of st. andrews, and declared future successor to his uncle, james beaton.--(keith's catalogue of bishops, p. ; senators of the college of justice, p. .) in a letter, dated th march , "the abbot of arbroath, now bushope of sanct andrewes," is mentioned, his uncle having died in the beginning of . on the th december , the cardinal archbishop was created lord high chancellor. he was assassinated upon saturday the th of may . [ ] sir james leirmonth of dairsye: see note . he had filled the office of master of the household in the reign of james the fifth, (holinshed's chronicle, p. , edit. ,) and not treasurer, as previously stated at page , and in tytler's scotland, vol. v. p. , when mentioned as one of the commissioners sent to england in march , to treat of the marriage of the infant princess with edward the sixth. [ ] these words, "how miserably," &c., are scored, as if deleted, and are omitted in all the other copies. [ ] in vautr. edit. "a corner;" in ms. g, "a neuk." [ ] the following paragraph is given by foxe, in connexion with his account of wishart's martyrdom, as mentioned in note :-- "a note of the just punishment of god upon the cruell cardinall archbyshop of saint andrewes, named beaton. "it was not long after the martyrdome of the blessed man of god, m. george wischeart aforesayd, who was put to death by david beaton, the bloudy archbyshop and cardinall of scotland, as is above specified, an. , the first day of march, but the sayd dauid beaton, archbyshop of s. andrewes, by the just revenge of god's mighty judgement, was slayen within his own castle of s. andrewes, by the handes of one lech [leslie] and other gentlemen; who, by the lord styrred vp, brake in sodeinly into his castle upon him, and in his bed murthered him the same yeare, the last day of may, crying out, 'alas, alas, slay me not, i am a priest.' and so lyke a butcher he lyved, and like a butcher he dyed, and lay monethes and more unburyed, and at last, like a carion, buryed in a dunghill. an. , maij ult. _ex historia impressa._"--(foxe, edit. , p. .) sir david lyndesay thus alludes to the cardinal's fate, in his poem entitled "the tragedie of the umquhyle maist reverend father david, be the mercy of god, cardinal, and archebischop of sanct androis," &c.,-- "quhen every man had judgit as him list, they saltit me, syne closit me in ane kist. i lay unburyit sevin monethis, and more or i was borne, to closter, kirk, or queir, in are midding, quhilk pane bene to deplore, without suffrage of chanoun, monk, or freir; all proud prelatis at me may lessonis leir, quhilk rang so lang, and so triumphantlye, syne in the dust doung doun so dolefullye." foxe's statement respecting the cardinal's burial, is evidently incorrect. sir james balfour, in his ms. account of the bishops of st. andrews, says of cardinal beaton, that "his corpse, after he had lyne salted in the bottom of the sea-tower, within the castell, was nine months thereafter taken from thence, and obscurely interred in the convent of the black friars of st. andrews, in anno ." holinshed, in some measure, reconciles these apparent contradictions: after referring to what knox has called "the coloured appointment," (see p. ,) entered into by the governor, in the view of having his son released, it is added, "_they delivered also the dead bodye of the cardinall_, after it had layne buried in a dunghill, within the castell, ever sithence the daye which they slew him."--(chron. of scotland, p. , edit. .) this must have been either in december , or in january - , immediately after the governor had raised the siege of the castle. [ ] in vautr. edit. "merily." [ ] john hamilton: see note . immediately after the quotation in the previous note, foxe continues: "after this david beaton, succeeded john hamelton, archbyshop of s. andrewes, an. ; who to the extent that he would in no wayes appeare inferiour to his predecessour in augmentyng the number of the holy martyrs of god, in the next yeare following called a certaine poore man to judgement, whose name was adam wallace. the order and maner of whose story here foloweth." (see note .) [ ] in vautr. edit. and the later mss., "dolorous to the queen's daughter." [ ] george douglas was a natural son of archibald earl of angus. to qualify him for preferment in the church, a letter of legitimation was passed under the great seal, th march - . on the death of cardinal beaton, in the contest for his several preferments, the abbacy of arberbrothick, (now arbroath,) had been conferred on douglas by the governor. hume of godscroft, alluding to his title of postulate of aberbrothock, says, he "not only did postulate it, but apprehended it also, and used it as his own."--(hist. of the house of douglas and angus, vol. ii. p. , edit. .) yet james beaton obtained possession of the abbacy, and retained it till , when he was raised to the see of glasgow. in the treasurer's accounts for november , we find that "maister james betoun, postulat of aberbrothock," was ordered to find surety "to underly the lawis, for tressonable intercommunyng with schir jhonn dudlie inglisman, sumtyme capitane of the fort of brochty;" and persons were sent "to aberbrothok to requyre the place thairof to be gevin oure to my lord governouris grace, becaus maister james betoun wes at the horne."--douglas took an active share in devising the murder of rizzio, in . upon the death of patrick hepburn, bishop of moray, douglas became his successor, and was consecrated th february - . keith says he was bishop of moray for sixteen years; and that he was buried in the church of holyroodhouse. [ ] the summons of treason against the conspirators in the castle of st. andrews, is contained in the acts of parliament. it was passed under the great seal on the th of june , and it cited them to compear before the parliament on the th of july, within the city of edinburgh. on the th of july the parliament met, and continued the summons until the th of august. on the same day, were "letters direct to fyf, chargeing all maner of man that nane of thame tak upone hande to molest, trouble, or mak onye impediment to normound leslie or his complicies, that thai may frelie cum to edinburgh to the parliament and allege thair defensis, and frelie to pas and repas," &c.--(treasurer's accounts.) some overtures to parliament for their remission having proved abortive, the persons referred to were declared guilty of high treason, and their lands and goods forfeited. the chief persons mentioned in the summons were--norman lesley, fear of rothes; peter carmichael of balmadie; james kirkaldy of the grange; william kirkaldy, his eldest son; david kirkaldy, his brother; john, patrick, and george kirkaldy, brothers to the said james kirkaldy of the grange; john leslie of parkhill; alexander inglis; james melville elder; john melville, bastard son to the laird of raith; alexander melville; david balfour, son to the laird of mountquhanny; william guthrie; sir john auchinleck, chaplain; and sir john young, chaplain.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. pp. , .) [ ] pitscottie, after stating that the conspirators at the end of six days were put to the horn, thus proceeds in his narrative:--"so they keipit still the castle of sanct andros, and furnished it with all neccssar; and all sie as suspected thamselffis guiltie of the said slauchter, past into the said castle for thair defence, to witt, the laird of grange, maister hendrie prymros, [err. for balnaves,] the laird of pitmillie, the old persone george leslie, sir johne auchinleck, _with many utheris, who wer nocht at the slauchter_, but suspected thamselffis to be borne at evill will; thairfoir they lap in to the castle, and remained thair the space of halfe ane yeir, and would not obey the authoritie, nor yitt hear of no appoyntment nor offerris which was offerred unto thame be the authoritie. but still malignant aganis the queine and governour, thinked thamselffis strong enough againes thame both; and send thair messingeris to ingland to seik support; but quhat they gott, i cannot tell."--(dalyell's edit. p. .) spotiswood is much more concise. he says, "diverse persons, upon the news of the cardinal's death, came and joyned with those that had killed him, especially maister henry balnaves, the melvilles of the house of raith, and some gentlemen of fife, to the number of seven score persons, who all entered into the castle the day after the slaughter, and abode there during the term of the first siege. john rough, he that had attended the governour as chaplain in the beginning of his regiment, came also thither, and became their preacher."--(history, p. .) [ ] james lord hamilton, afterwards third earl of arran, and eldest son of the governor, was kept as a hostage in the castle of st. andrews at the time of the cardinal's slaughter. he was retained by the conspirators as a pledge for their own advantage. in the event of his being delivered to the english, the parliament, on the th of august , passed an act, excluding lord hamilton from all right of succession to the family estates and the crown, (being then regarded as presumptive heir to the crown,) during the time of his captivity. [ ] this was george durie. george, abbot of dunfermline, was present at the sentence against patrick hamilton in february - , yet it appears that his kinsman, james beaton, archbishop of st. andrews, was actually commemdator. durie, however, who was archdeacon of st. andrews, styles himself abbot in , and continued to act as subordinate to beaton during the primate's life. beaton died in ; and durie's appointment to the abbacy of dunfermline was confirmed by james the fifth. he was nominated an extraordinary lord of session, d july . durie continued to act as commendator, or abbot, till , when he went to france, and died on the th january - : his successor on the bench took his seat on the th november that year. according to dempster, two years after his death he was canonized by the church of rome.--(senators of the college of justice, p. ; keith's hist. vol. i. p. ; registrum de dunfermlyn, p. xvi.) [ ] montquhanie is in the parish of kilmany, and was the seat of sir michael balfour. [ ] "nor by the law," omitted in vautr. edit. [ ] in vautr. edit. "enjoy." [ ] in ms. g, and other copies, "arran:" see note . [ ] in vautr. edit. "_esperance_", here and elsewhere, is rendered "hope." [ ] see note . [ ] pasche, or easter. in , this festival fell on the th of april. thus it was upwards of ten months after the cardinal's death before knox took shelter in the castle of st. andrews. as this notice fixes the duration of knox's abode within the castle to less than four months, we may suppose that his vocation to the ministry, by john rough, was in the end of may, or early in june . the castle had been besieged by the governor, without any success, from the end of august till december . but the french fleet, to assist the governor in its reduction, arrived in june , and the castle being again invested both by sea and land, and receiving no expected aid from england, the besieged were forced to capitulate on the last of july that year. [ ] hugh douglas of long-niddry, in the parish of gladsmuir, east-lothian, about four miles from tranent. (see patten's expedition, sig. d ii. for a notice of his wife, when the english came "to lang nuddrey.") the mansion-house of long-niddry "is now known only by a circular mound, rising a few feet above the ground, containing the subterraneous vaults which were connected with the building."--(stat. acc. haddington, p. .) near it is the ruinous chapel which still bears the name of john knox's kirk. hugh douglas, the father of knox's pupils, francis and george, was a cadet of the douglasses of dalkeith. he must have died before the year ; as his son, francis douglas of langnudry, is named as third in the line of succession to james earl of morton, failing his lawful male issue, in the deed of ratification, dated th april .--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) [ ] alexander cockburn, knox's pupil, according to the inscription on a brazen tablet, erected to his memory in the aisle of the old church of ormiston, was born in the year - .--(collection of epitaphs, &c., p. , glasgow, , mo; stat. acc. haddington, p. .) the following is the inscription alluded to, as still extant at ormiston:-- "hic conditur mag. alexander cockburn, primogenitus joannis domini ormiston et alisonæ sandilands, ex preclara familia calder, qui natus januarij : post insignem linguarum professionem, obiit anno ætatis suæ , cal. sept." as cockburn was born in - , he must have died in . the tablet referred to also contains buchanan's lines. _omnia quæ longa_, &c., celebrating his learning, and lamenting his premature fate. dempster likewise quotes these lines and another elegy on his death, by buchanan. (opera, vol. ii. pp. , ,) and says, that alexander cockburn, who had spent several years abroad, published various works, of which he had only seen three, the titles of which he specifies; but he mistakes the date of his death, in placing it in , and his age, as .--(hist. eccles. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "in cumpany." [ ] john rough is said to have been born in . it must have been previous to that date, as his name, "johannes rouch," occurs in the second class or division of persons who were incorporated in st. leonard's college, in the year . he entered a monastery at stirling, when only seventeen years of age. the reputation he had acquired as a preacher, induced the governor to procure a dispensation for him to leave the monastery, and become one of his chaplains. in the treasurer's accounts, february - , he is called "maister johnne ra, chaplane to my lord governour," upon occasion of receaving "ane goun, doublet, hoiss, and bonet." foxe mentions that rough visited rome twice, and was very much shocked with what he witnessed in that city, which he had been taught to regard as the fountain of sanctity. he entered the castle of st. andrews, as knox states, soon after the cardinal's slaughter; but he retired to england before the capitulation in . (see calderwood's account of him, vol. i. p. .) he continued to preach till the death of edward the sixth; when he crossed to narden in friesland. but having come over to london, he was informed against to bishop bonner, by whose orders he was committed to the flames at smithfield, on the d of december . "an account of his examination, and two of his letters, (says dr. m'crie,) breathing the true spirit of a christian martyr, may be seen in foxe, p. - ."--(life of knox, vol. i. pp. , , .) rough's fate is thus commemorated, in a rare poetical tract by thomas bryce, entitled "a compendeous register in metre, conteigning the names and pacient suffryngs of the membres of jesus christ; and the tormented and cruelly burned within england, since the death of our famous kyng of immortal memory, edwarde the sixte," &c. london, , vo. december [ .] when jhon roughe, a minister weke, and margaret mering, with corage died, because christ onely they did seeke, with fier of force they must bee fried; when these in smithfield were put to death, we wishte for our elizabeth. [ ] in vautr. edit. "m. iohne." [ ] in vautr. edit. the name annand having been omitted, he is spoken of as "dean john." [ ] dean john annand was an ecclesiastic of some note. in a decreet arbitral, dated th oct. , as well as in the sentence pronounced against sir john borthwick, in , he is styled a canon of the metropolitan church of st. andrews. he became principal of st. leonard's college in , and he held that office till , when he was succeeded by john law. [ ] in vautr. edit. "preaching." [ ] in vautr. edit. "briefly." [ ] in vautr. edit. "other new names." [ ] in ms. g, "names." [ ] or major: (see note .) he was born in , and consequently at this time was far advanced in years. at the provincial council held in , "_m. johannes mayr_, decanus facultatis theologicæ universitatis sancti andrete, et martinus balfour, doctores in theologia, _annosi_, _grandævi_, _et debiles_, comparuerunt per procuratores."--(wilkins, concil., vol. iv. p. .) he died in . [ ] john wynrame: see note . [ ] in vautr. edit. "others hewed;" in ms. g, "utheris hued." [ ] in ms. g, "nydre."--the person referred to was james forsyth of nydie, who had a charter of the salmon fishings pertaining to the king, in the water of edyn, in fyfe, th september . the name of james forsyth of nydie in the regality of st. andrews, between and , occurs in an old rental book belonging to the city of st. andrews. one of his descendants was alexander forsyth, who was served heir of his father james forsyth, in the lands of nydie easter, in the regality of st. andrews, th april .--(retours, fife, no. .) [ ] john hamilton, abbot of paisley, as already stated, was appointed high treasurer in , when kirkaldy of grange was superseded. the abbot's accounts, under his designation of bishop of dunkeld, were rendered on the st october , having commenced th august . in the title of his accounts, commencing st october , and rendered on the th of september , he is styled archbishop of st. andrews. he may therefore have been promoted to the primacy in october ; but he was not inducted until the year . this date is fixed by the archbishop himself, in a deed, st march , as "the th year of our consecration, and the th of our translation to the primacy."--(lyons hist. of st. andrews, vol. ii. p. .) keith has shown that hamilton, who had been presented to the see of dunkeld on the death of george crichton, in january - , was not consecrated until , or more probably the beginning of . in like manner he continued to be styled john bishop of dunkeld, until the th june ; immediately after which date his translation to st. andrews no doubt took place.--(catal. of bishops, pp. , .) [ ] in ms. g, "unfaythfull." [ ] that is, as in ms. g, &c., "our youth;" vautr. edit. has "your thoughtes." [ ] this friar may probably be identified with alexander arbuckylle, whose name appears in the list of determinants, in the fourth class ( ^tus actus) "in pedagogio," at st. andrews, in . there was a franciscan monastery of observantines at st. andrews, to which he doubtless belonged. [ ] in ms. g, and in vautr. edit., "abashed." [ ] in ms. g, "his fault." [ ] in vautr. edit. "hinder." [ ] in vautr. edit. "were merily skoft ower." [ ] the treatise which knox wrote on board the french galley, containing a confession of his faith, and which he sent to his friends in scotland, is not known to be preserved. the substance of it was probably embodied in some of his subsequent writings. knox might, however, have had some reference to the epistle which he addressed to his brethren in scotland, in , in connexion with balnaves's confession, or treatise on justification, (see note .) [ ] mr. john spittal, official principal of st. andrews, held the office of rector of the university, from to . in the "liber officialis s. andree principalis," from which extracts were printed for the abbotsford club, edinb. , to, his name occasionally occurs: thus, "joannes spittal a niuibus rector, in utroque jure licentiatus, officialis sancti andree principalis," &c., aprilis ; and on the th february - , he has the additional title of provost of the collegiate church of st. mary in the fields, near edinburgh--"prepositus ecclesie collegiate diui virginis marie de campis prope edinburgh," (pp. , , ; wilkins, concilia, vol. iv. p. .) [ ] sir james balfour of pittendreich, eldest son of balfour of montquhanie, (see before, p. ,) is styled by principal robertson, and not unjustly, us "the most corrupt man of his age." having joined the conspirators at st. andrews, he was, when the castle was surrendered to the french, sent on board the same galley with knox. according to spotiswood, he obtained his freedom before the other prisoners were released, by abjuring his profession; and upon his return to scotland, he was appointed official of lothian, by the archbishop of st. andrews.--(hist. p. .) at a subsequent time, when raised to the bench, he took his seat under the title of parson of flisk. [ ] that is, martin luther's. [ ] in ms. g, "lat the godlie bewar of that race and progeny." so in vautr. edit., with this addition, "progenie by eschewing." the obvious meaning of the words is, "let the person of that race who lives godly be shown." [ ] sir james balfour of pittendreich, eldest son of balfour of montquhanie, (see before, p. ,) is styled by principal robertson, and not unjustly, us "the most corrupt man of his age." having joined the conspirators at st. andrews, he was, when the castle was surrendered to the french, sent on board the same galley with knox. according to spotiswood, he obtained his freedom before the other prisoners were released, by abjuring his profession; and upon his return to scotland, he was appointed official of lothian, by the archbishop of st. andrews.--(hist. p. .) at a subsequent time, when raised to the bench, he took his seat under the title of parson of flisk. [ ] that is, martin luther's. [ ] in ms. g, "lat the godlie bewar of that race and progeny." so in vautr. edit., with this addition, "progenie by eschewing." the obvious meaning of the words is, "let the person of that race who lives godly be shown." [ ] langhope, a castle on the borders, belonging to lord maxwell, which the english had obtained possession of. [ ] in vautr. edit. "court." [ ] in vautr. edit. "plague." [ ] in the ms. "age." [ ] in vautr. edit. "the xxix of july." [ ] in vautr. edit. "comming with the priour," &c. [ ] leon strozzi, a knight of malta, prior of capua, and captain-general of the galleys of france. his brother, peter strozzi, was captain of the french galleys which came to scotland in . [ ] in ms. g, vautr. edit., &c., "felcam."--that is, the vessels arrived at fecamp, a sea-port of normandy, about half-way between dieppe and havre. [ ] the water of sequane, or the river seine, is one of the four great rivers of france. it rises in burgundy, and passing the cities of paris and rouen, (called by knox, rowane,) flows into the english channel at havre. [ ] this john hamilton of milburn is not mentioned by the historian of the hamiltons. the earliest of the family mentioned is matthew, in . his name, however, is correctly given by knox, as we find in the treasurer's accounts, these three payments:-- , january. "item, be my lord governouris precept deliverit to my lord cardinale, quhilk he lent to maister jhonn hammyltoun of mylburne, to set furth the artailze at birgen raid, £ ." , november. "item, to maister jhonn hammyltoun of mylburn, maister of wark for the tyme to the quenys grace's bigingis, quhilk he debursit upoun hir grace's warkis _befoir his departing towart france_, as his tiket of compt, heir present to schaw, beris, £ , s. d." "item, to maister jhonn hammyltoun of mylburne, _direct to the kingis grace of france_, in the effaris of this realme, £ ." that knox is also correct in regard to the time of his death, may be inferred from the date of these payments, and from the circumstance that (his son, no doubt) matthew hamilton _of mylburn_, had a charter under the great seal of the lands of houston in linlithgowshire, dated in . this matthew had another charter of the same lands to himself, and to agnes livingstone his spouse, and to henry hamilton his son and heir apparent, th november . his son predeceased him, and the property came to robert, fratri quondam mathæi hamilton de melburne. see anderson's house of hamilton, p. *. [ ] in vautr. edit. "mountain." _craig_, a _rock_, is in other passages also erroneously made _mountain_. [ ] the city of rouen, in normandy. [ ] nantes in bartanze, or britanny, the large commercial city in the west of france. it is situated in the department of the loire inferieure, about twenty-seven miles from the mouth of the river loire. [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., "went." [ ] the castle and episcopal palace of st. andrews is now in ruins. it stands on a detached point of land to the north of the town, and is bounded on two sides by the sea. it entered from the south side by a drawbridge, across a deep fosse or ditch, which being now removed and filled up with rubbish, very much injures the picturesque appearance of the castle. after its surrender, on the last of july , the castle was ordered by an act of council to be rased to the ground. the fortress and "block-houses" were no doubt partially demolished, but the building itself was speedily repaired and inhabited by archbishop hamilton, whose arms cut in stone still remain over one of the windows at the south-east corner. the north-west corner or keep was surmounted by a tower, and is the place mentioned by knox at pages , , as "the sea-tower." on entering it, after descending a few steps, the dungeon is shewn to visitors by letting down a light, till it nearly reaches the bottom, at about feet. the diameter at the top may be feet, and after a descent of or feet, it gradually widens to or feet diameter, cut out of the solid rock. there is no appearance of any similar excavation at the north-east corner. the castle, when surrendered, was abundantly supplied with provisions, and it contained the cardinal's money and furniture, to the value, it is said, of £ , ; and also the property of other persons, which had been brought hither as to a place of security. [ ] the earl of hertford, created duke of somerset, was lord protector of england. of his expedition into scotland, there was published at the time a minute and interesting account. see note . [ ] preston is near the village of prestonpans, in the parish of that name, being about eight miles east from edinburgh. [ ] in this place in the ms., half a page on the reverse of fol. , and nearly as much at the top of the next leaf, are left blank, us if for the purpose of afterwards inserting the letter here mentioned.--there is still preserved among the "state papers, in the reign of henry the eighth," a letter addressed by that monarch to the governor and council of scotland, on the th december , (vol. v. p. .) it expresses his desire for peace and tranquillity; but stipulates that the siege of st. andrews shall be relinquished, as he formerly had made promise to the gentlemen in the castle "to helpe them in their necessities." the english monarch died on the th of january - ; and it is scarcely necessary to add, that the expected aid was not sent. [ ] in all the copies, "friday the th." [ ] or inveresk. [ ] in ms. g, "playand;" in vautr. edit., "playing." [ ] in vautr. edit. "preachers." [ ] hume castle, in roxburghshire, in the united parishes of stitchell and hume, was a celebrated border fortress, often besieged by the english.--alexander fifth lord home, succeeded his father in , a few days after the battle of pinkie. it was in order to save his life, he being then a prisoner, that his mother, lady home, was influenced to surrender the castle to the english, th september ; from whom it was recovered by stratagem, in , as minutely detailed by beaugué, in his history of the campaigns, &c., pp. - . lord home was appointed warden of the east marches; and was a supporter of the reformation. he died in . [ ] falside hill or bray, is in the parish of inveresk, near carberry hill. [ ] the battle of pinkie took place in a field to the east of musselburgh, and adjacent to pinkie house. [ ] george durie, abbot of dunfermline: see note . [ ] hugh rigg of carberry: see note . buchanan mentions him as one of the persons by whose advice the governor suppressed the duke of somerset's letters; and calls him "a lawyer, more remarkable for his large body and personal strength, than for any knowledge of military affairs." [ ] archibald douglas seventh earl of angus, succeeded his grandfather, the sixth earl, who was slain at floddon, along with his son george master of angus. he married margaret, the queen dowager, mother of james the fifth, and during the king's minority he obtained and exercised great power; but was banished when james had assumed the royal authority. his daughter, lady margaret douglas, by the queen dowager, became countess of lennox, and mother of darnley. the earl of angus died at tantallon castle in the year . [ ] archibald campbell, fifth earl of argyle: see a subsequent note near the end of book first. [ ] ms. g, has "the armie." [ ] the word "host," omitted in the ms., is supplied from ms. g. [ ] in ms. g, "frayed thame grettumlie." vautr. edit. has, "affraied them wonderouslie." [ ] in ms. g, "the erle of huntlie." [ ] dr. patrick anderson, in his ms. history of scotland, in describing the disastrous flight at pinkie, says, "it was owing more to lack of good and prudent government, than by any manhood of the enemie. for it was plainly reported, that some were traitors amongst us, and that they received gold from england; whereupon the following distich was said, it was _your_ gold, and _our_ traitors wanne the field of pinkie, and noe englishman." the date of this calamitous defeat at pinkie, near musselburgh, was the th of september . the english forces were accompanied by william patten, who, from his notes or diary, published his curious and interesting work, intituled, "the expedicion into scotlande of the most woorthely fortunate prince edward, duke of soomerset, vncle vnto our most noble souereign lord the kinges maiestie edvvard the vi. goouernour of hys hyghnes persone, and protectour of hys graces realmes, dominions, & subiectes: made in the first yere of his maiesties most prosperous reign, and set out by way of diarie, by w. patten, londoner. vivat victor."--colophon, "imprinted in london, by richard grafton, &c., m.d.xlviii." small vo, bl. . [ ] in ms. g, "many ransomes;" in vautr. edit., "many reasons, honestie or unhonestie." [ ] robert master of erskine, eldest son of john fourth lord erskine, (and fifth earl of mar, who died in .) as stated in the text, he was slain at pinkie, th september ; and leaving no issue, his next brother thomas, master of erskine, having also predeceased his father, john erskine, originally intended for the church, became sixth earl of mar, in . [ ] in vautr. edit. _craig_ is rendered "mountains."--broughty craig, now known as broughty ferry, at the mouth of the river tay, four miles below dundee. the old castle, now in ruins, forms a conspicuous object from the opposite side of the river.--among other disbursements for "resisting of our old enemies," are the following:-- "item, (jan. - ,) at my lord of argilys passing to dunde, lieutenant for the tyme, for the recovering of the said toun and fort of brochty furth of the inglismennis bandis, rasit ane band of j^o [ men] of weyr, send with him, and put under the governance of duncan dundass; and to the said men of weyr, ... iij^m lib." "item, (feb. - ,) to summound alexander quhitlaw of new grange, to underly the law for his tressonable art, part, and counsale geving to the putting of the house of brouchtye in the englische mennis handis, continewall remanying with thame, conveying of thame to the byrnyng of dunde and forfair, rydand and gangand with thame in all thair dedis and heir-schippis upoun our souerane ladyis landis and subjectis, etc." [ ] probably in january or february - . bishop lesley mentioning gawin hamilton's death, calls him "gubernatoris cognato," (de rebus, &c., p. ,) and "awin tender kynisman" of the governor.--(hist. p. .) we may therefore suppose he was the same person with gawin hamilton of orbiston, who was named in the settlement of the hamilton estates in .--(anderson's house of hamilton, p. .) in october , the treasurer repaid "to maister gawyne hammyltoun, quhilk he debursit in the castle of edinburgh, the tyme of the field (of pynkeclouch) xxvi lib." he had previously been engaged in conducting the siege of st. andrews, as in december , "the compttar, (or treasurer,) discharges him in this moneth, quhairwith he sowld have been dischargeit in the moneth of december, in anno , quhilk was deliverit to j^c lxxx culvering men, under the governaunce of capitane gawyne hammylton and robert lindesay, parson of covingtoun; quhilk band was rasit for recovering of the castell of sanctandrois, and indurit v monethis, to ilkane of thir culvering men in the moneth, iiij lib. summa to the said space, ... iij^m vj^c lib." (£ .) "item, the samyne tyme, under the governaunce of the saidis capitanis j^c xx pikmen, quhilkis alsua remanit the tyme of the said assege, to every ane of thame in the moneth, iij lib. x s. summa be the said space, ... ij^m lib." (£ .) "item, to the saidis twa capitanis, for thair awin feis, thair hand-seinze lieutenant, provest, clerk, and officiaris of band, ilkane of the said capitanis in the moneth, j^c lib. summa in the saidis v monethis, j^m lib." (£ .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "that lent." [ ] john cockburn, (who has been already noticed, and will be again met with under the year ,) was forfeited th december . [ ] alexander crichton of brunstone was a leading agent in the english schemes for assassinating cardinal beaton, although eventually accomplished without his aid. from his connexion with george wishart, some fruitless attempts have been made to implicate wishart in such schemes. see appendix, no. ix.--the situation of brunstone, in the barony of pennycuik, is already noticed at page . a charter under the great seal of the lands of gilberton, was granted to alexander creichtoun of burnstoun, and john creichtoun his son and heir, th november . on the th november , there was paid, "be my lord governouris speciall command, to the laird of brounstoun, in support of his expensis maid in tyme of his being in ingland, lauborand for redres of certane scottis schippis tane be the inglische men, &c., lib." he was forfeited, and escaped from scotland in the year . his death must have taken place before the th december , as on that day the process of forfeiture against him was reduced by the scotish parliament, at the instance of john creichton, eldest lawful son and heir of _umquhile_ alexander creichton of burnstane.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) on the th february - , john creichton of brunstone, had a charter of confirmation of the lands of gilbertoun; and another, on the th february - , of the lands of stanyhill, in the shire of edinburgh. in the retours we find the names of james creichton junior, as heir of his brother john, of lands in the barony of pennycuik, th may ; and james creichton, as heir of john creichton of brunstone, his father, of the lands of brunstone, &c., in the barony of pennycuik, th may . [ ] in vautr. edit. "after sore assalted." [ ] knox has evidently mistaken the year. mons. de dessé, mons. dandelot, and pierre strozzi, captain of the galleys, arrived in scotland, about june ; and mons. de térmes, in the year following: see . bishop lesley has given a detailed account of their proceedings.--(history, p. , &c.) see also "l'histoire de la guerre d'escosse, traitant comme le royaume fut assailly, & en grand' partie occupé par les anglois, & depuis rendu paisible à sa reyne, & reduit en son ancien estat & dignité, par ian de beaugué, gentilhomme françois. a paris, ," vo. a translation of this work, ascribed to dr. p. abercromby, was published at edinburgh in , vo, with an historical preface. a ms. note by the celebrated dr. archibald pitcairne, in a copy in my possession, asserts that the preface was written by crawford the historiographer, although claimed by the translator as his own; "but poor crawford," he adds, was then dead. [ ] this meeting of parliament referred to, was "holdin at the abbay of hadingtoun," on the th july ; of which the only proceedings recorded are the "propositioun by the maist christian king of france; and the determinatioun of the three estatis, concerning the mariage of our soverane lady with the dolphin of france."--(acta parl. scot., vol. ii. p. .) [ ] sir walter scott of branxholm, was served heir of his father, sir walter, in october . he was slain in edinburgh by sir walter ker of cessfurd, and andrew kerr of fernyhurst, in october .--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) in the diurnal of occurrents, the writer noticing his slaughter, calls him "ane valzeand guid knycht," (p. .) knox simply styles him "a bloody man."--(see douglas and wood's peerage, vol. i. p. ; and scott's lay of the last minstrel.) [ ] the proposed alliance between queen mary and the dauphin of france having been agreed to at stirling, on the th february - , the same day, the governor, james earl of arran, was created duke of chatellerault, by the king of france and the letters patent of his nomination were registered by the parliament of france, on the d of april. [ ] the order of st. michael was instituted by louis xi., king of france, in . the number of knights was limited to thirty-six. it received the name of the cockle, from the escalop-shells of gold with which the collar of the order was ornamented.--in september , is this payment by the treasurer, "item, for paintting of my lord governoures armes setting furth of the collar that day that my lord of angus and argyle had ressavit the ordour, xlv s." from the date, we might have concluded that this referred to the order of the cockle, had it not been that three years previously mention is made, in a letter from one of the english "espialles," in scotland, (communicated to lord wharton, on the th june ,) that "the order of the cocle," with a collar of gold, had then been sent from france to the earl of angus.--(state papers, vol. v. p. .) [ ] in the ms. this marginal note is scored through, as if to be deleted; but this seems to have been done by a later hand. a few of the letters are cut away by the binder, but the note itself occurs in vautrollier's edition, p. ; which does not contain the marginal words that follow, marking the precise time when this portion of the history was written. it is worthy of notice, that on the th june , bothwell having escaped to dunbar, queen mary surrendered herself to the nobles at carberry hill, and two days later, she was imprisoned in lochleven castle. the marginal words, therefore, to this purport, "finish what thou hast begun, o my god, for the glory of thy name: th june ," may be regarded as if the author had viewed that event as being a partial accomplishment of his prediction which he states to have been written in april . but the language here used by knox, it is impossible to vindicate. [ ] on the th november , a pursuevant was sent to stirling "with letters to the maister of arskine, charging him to keip sir robert bowes, inglisman, untransportit hame in his awin cuntré, quhill my lord governour and counsale be farder avisit."--(treasurer's accounts.) [ ] sir james wilford was taken prisoner by the french at dunbar, in the year : see holinshed's chronicles, england, vol. ii. p. ; scotland, p. , edit. . [ ] prince alexander labanoff, in his collection of the letters of mary queen of scots, states, that at the end of july , m. de brézé, who arrived for that end, and villegaignon, commander of the french squadron, received the young queen and her suite, at dumbarton. on the th august, he adds, mary stuart disembarked at the port of brest, and was immediately conducted to st. germain-en-laye, where she was educated as one of the royal family.--(lettres de marie stuart, &c., vol. i.) the following entries from the treasurer's accounts, as relating to the young queen, are not devoid of interest, in connexion with the similar payments quoted in note ,-- "item, (march ,) the comptar dischargis him, gevyn to my lord erskyn and lord levingstoun, to ane compte of thair feyes restand awyn thame for keping of the quenis grace persoun, the sowme of j^c lxxvi lib. vi s. viij d. "item, mair to thame, in compleit pament of all feyes restand awyn thame for the causis forsaid, (fra the last day of november in the zeir of god zeris,) unto the last day of februar, in the zeir of god j^m v^c and fortye sevyn zeris, [ - ,] quhilk was the day of thair departing with the quenis grace to dumbartane, and sa dischargit the sowme of ij^m ( ) lib. "item, (july ,) to johnne patersoun, to pas for marinaris to be pylattis, and to pas about in the galayes to the vest seyes, that past to france with the quenis grace, xxij s." [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., "i assure yow." [ ] cramond, a village on the south side of the frith of forth, five or six miles higher up than leith. [ ] in october , a messenger was directed "to charge the maister capitane, quarter maisterris, and skippares of the schip callit the schallop, chargeing thame to prepair and mak hir reddye for the recovering of sanct colmys inche."--(treasurer's accounts.) st. colme's inch is a small island in the frith of forth, within two miles of the shore from aberdour. there are still some remains of fortifications of a recent date. the island of inch-colme is chiefly remarkable for the ruins of an abbey founded by king alexander the first, about the year , and dedicated to st. columba. the inmates were canon-regulars of st. augustine. [ ] although the name is apparently "de arfe" in the ms., it might be read "de aese." but the name "de arfe" is found in vautr. edit., and in mss. a, e, i, and w. ms. l , has "de anfe." in the ms. as originally written it stood, "that wynter remaned _monsieur de termes_ in scotland," &c. this name was afterwards deleted, and that of "de arfe" interlined; and it so appears in the copies above specified. but in ms. g, the original words are retained, thus indicating that the intermediate ms. from which ms. g was transcribed, may have been made previously to the correction of the name.--on the th june , £ . s. was paid by the treasurer "to alexander ross, pursevante, to attend upoun monsieur darse and the frenche bande." the name, however, should be _mons. de dessé_, who continued in command of the french troops in scotland, during . mons. de termes arrived at dumbarton with reinforcements, early in , when dessé returned to france.--(beaugué, histoire, fol. , .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "scarcenesse." [ ] niddry's wynd, is now called niddry street, its former character of a wynd or close having been changed, when the houses at the top of it were removed in , and the street called south bridge was built, which connects the old town of edinburgh with the southern districts. [ ] the nether bow port or gate was a large building, with houses on each side, dividing or forming a barrier between the high street of edinburgh, and the street in continuation still known as the canongate, where the french troops were quartered during the winter - . the building alluded to was removed as an obstruction to the street, in the year . [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., "violentlie repulsit him." [ ] james hamilton, laird of stenhouse, already alluded to at page , was provost of the city as well as captain of the castle. bishop lesley says the occurrence which led to his death, took place early in october . it must have been on or before the first of that month, as sir william hamilton of sanquhar was on that day appointed captain of the castle of edinburgh, with the salary of £ , s. d.--(treasurer's accounts.) [ ] james hamilton was his father's deputy as captain of the castle; and was also director of the chancery. [ ] in ms. g, "mr. walter stewart." [ ] the town of haddington was strongly garrisoned by lord grey of wilton and the english forces, in april ; and was soon after besieged by the french auxiliaries, and likewise in the following year, but on both occasions without success. the friar kirk belonged to the franciscan or gray friars; the choir of which, from its beautiful structure, was called _lucerna laudoniæ_, (the lamp of lothian.) notwithstanding all the changes this church has undergone in the course of five or six centuries, it still exhibits the outlines of an imposing building, about feet long, surmounted by a handsome square tower. no traces are now preserved of st. catherine's chapel. [ ] according to beaugué, this was a french soldier "corrupted by the enemy," who had served them as a spy. [ ] in other copies, "aneughe,"--"enough." [ ] see note .--bishop lesley says, the castle, which had been left in charge of sir edward dudley, was recovered on st. stephen's night, ( th december,) .--(hist. pp. , .) [ ] the laird of raith was sir john melville, knight. charters of the lands of murdocairney, in fife, were granted to him and his wife helen napier, in and . james the fifth, who conferred on him the honour of knighthood, appointed him captain of the castle of dunbar. he was accused of heresy by cardinal beaton; but was not convicted. it may have been in reference to this charge that he obtained from the king a remission "for all crimes, excepting treason," which he may have committed prior to the th august .--(pitcairn's crim. trials, vol. i. p. *.) subsequently being in favour of the english alliance, when all correspondence with england had been interdicted, an intercepted letter, addressed by sir john melville to his son, was laid hold of, and formed the ground of accusation for treason. on the d december , writings were sent from edinburgh "to all the lairdis and gentilmen of fyfe to be heir dec. ^to. upoun the laird of rathis assise;" and on that day, the treasurer paid s. "to adame m'cullo, pursewant, send agane to fyfe to summond ane assiss to the laird of raith; and to execute summoundis of tressoun upoun the laird of petmille, and maister henry balnavis, to the xxj day of februar [ - .]" he was accordingly tried and executed in - , and his forfeited estates were bestowed on david hamilton, youngest son of the governor.--(buchan. hist. lib. xv. c. .) the forfeited estates, however, were restored by queen mary to his eldest son john melville, by a special gift dated th feb. - .--(criminal trials, vol. i. p. *.) he survived till the th july . [ ] in vautr. edit. "prankes." [ ] ninian cockburn, called captain ringan. in vautr. edit. "reingzein," and "rengzeane," being a common or vulgar pronunciation of the name ninian. [ ] in order not to crowd the pages unnecessarily, some further particulars respecting norman lesley are reserved for the appendix, no. xi. [ ] monypenny of pitmilly, in the parish of kingsbarns, in fife, is a family of old standing. the mother of cardinal beaton was isabell monypenny of pitmilly. david monypenny, heir apparent of petmillie, had a charter under the great seal, dated th march . it is noticed at note , that summons of treason upon the laird of petmille, to the st february - , had been served on the th december . but one of his daughters, as well as the "laird," was implicated in countenancing the conspirators. on the last of november , "a messinger was sent with ane letter direct to summound jonet monypenie, douchtor to the laird of petmylle, for hir remanyng in the castell of sanctandrois, and intercommonyng and assistance gevin be hir to normound leslie and his complices, slaares of my lord cardinall."--(treasurer's accounts.) [ ] sherisburg, is evidently cherburg or cherbourg, a well known sea-port in france, in lower normandy, (near cape la hogue.) [ ] henry balnaves of halhill raised himself to distinction by his talents and application. after pursuing his studies abroad for several years, he returned to scotland, and was admitted an advocate in november . in july , he was appointed a lord of session; and survived till the year . a more minute account of his history will be given in vol. iii., in connexion with extracts from the treatise mentioned in the following note, to which knox prefixed an epistle, in the year . [ ] this treatise on justification, of which knox, we are informed, had expressed an earnest desire, _as almost nothing more_, that it should be diligently sought after, and preserved from perishing, was discovered in ms. at ormiston, subsequently to the death both of knox and the author. yet david buchanan, instead of these words, makes knox to say, "which is extant to this day." it was first published under the following title:-- "the confession of faith, conteining how the troubled man should seeke refuge at his god, thereto led by faith: with the declaration of the article of justification at length, &c. compiled by m. henry balnaves of halhill, and one of the lords of session and counsell of scotland, being a prisoner within the old pallaice of roane: in the year of our lord . imprinted at edinburgh, by thomas vautrollier. ." small vo. [ ] in vautr. edit. the words, "the messe was said in the gallay, or ellis heard upoun the schoar, in," are omitted by the printer, at the foot of page . the words are likewise omitted in mss. l and . [ ] the city of nantes: see note . [ ] ms. g reads correctly, "such an _idolle_;" but vautr. edit. has, "such a _jewell_ is accursed;" and this blunder is retained in mss. a, e, i, ("javel,") l , and w.--although no name is given in regard to the incident alluded to, this "merry fact" evidently happened to knox himself. [ ] official of lothian: see notes and . [ ] in ms. g, "a kape." [ ] probably in june . [ ] mont st. michel is a benedictine abbey, with a village strongly fortified, on a rocky island, surrounded with quicksands, and only accessible at low water. it is sixteen miles s.w. of avranches, in normandy. its situation is highly picturesque; and many chivalrous associations are connected with the place; which, during the fifteenth century, had often been besieged, but unsuccessfully, by the english. from its strong and isolated position, it had probably been chosen for that purpose, and it still continues to be used for a state prison. [ ] in ms. g, "eyes." [ ] see note . [ ] the king's even, is evidently meant for the eve of epiphany, and the king of the bean: see footnote to page . david buchanan, aware of this allusion, from his long residence in france, has this marginal illustration: "_le jour de roys au soir, quand ils crient 'le roy boit.'_" the mention of this _fête_ may show, that kirkaldy and his companions had made their escape on the th of january, and in the year - . [ ] sir john masone, ambassador for england at the french court, on the th june , says, "touching the scots at st. andrews, he (the constable of france) told me that the lord grange and his brother are flown he wist not whither, and two others were already set at liberty; and that the rest, at the king (edward vi.) my master's contentation, should out of hand be put at large."--(tytler's edward vi., &c., vol. i. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "they purposed." [ ] the names of these brethren are very much overlooked by the different peerage writers of scotland, in their pedigrees of the rothes family. the first marriage of george earl of rothes with margaret crichton, daughter of william lord crichton, was declared before to be uncanonical. but by this lady, "his affidate spouse," he had four sons: the eldest was george, who died unmarried; the others were norman, william, and robert. the reader may be referred to the appendix of nisbet's heraldry, vol. ii. p. , to explain the grounds upon which the two latter, as heirs-male, were passed over in the succession, at their father's death, in , when andrew lesley, the eldest son by subsequent marriage, and who had married a niece of the governor the earl of arran, became earl of rothes. of these two brethren, william is styled in macfarlane's genealogical collections, "laird of cairnie, and, (it is added,) as some say, he died without succession." bishop lesley, in noticing the death of norman lesley in france, in , says, "the king of france, for recompence of his service, received _his eldest brodir william_ in favour, and maid him gentill man of his chalmer."--(history, p. .) knox's words in the text imply that he was alive in . the other brother robert, is perhaps the same who was admitted an advocate in the court of session, in may . he settled in morayshire, in the parish of spynie, and became founder of the fendrassie family. he married janet elphingstone, a daughter of robert lord elphingstone, and left three sons and two daughters. an inscription, in latin verse, in the cathedral church of elgin, while it commemorates their virtues and attachment, records that he and his wife were interred in the same grave.--(monteith's theatre of mortality, p. , edinb., , vo.) [ ] le conquet, a small town of britanny, with a good harbour, opposite the island of ushant, sixteen miles west of brest. [ ] he was probably the same person with alexander clark of balbirnie, who became lord provost of edinburgh from to inclusive. [ ] in this paragraph knox sums up briefly his own history between february - , when he was delivered from the french galley, and his first return to scotland, in the end of harvest . [ ] edward died on the th july . [ ] the word "english" is omitted in vautr. edit. [ ] knox has abstained from entering upon any statement of the disputes which took place in the english congregation at francfort, in , in consequence of the introduction, by dr. coxe and others, of the book of common prayer, and the use of various ceremonies. a short paper by knox himself, connected with the charge brought against him before the magistrates of francfort, has been preserved by calderwood, (hist., vol. i. p. ,) and will naturally fall to be included in vol. iii. of the present work. but a detailed account of the transactions at that time was drawn up and published anonymously, three years after knox's death, by one of the nonconformists. it is entitled, "a brieff discours off the troubles begunne at franckford in germany, anno domini . abowte the booke off common prayer and ceremonies, and continued by the englishe men theyre, to thame off q. maries reigne," and was originally published (at geneva) in , to. there is an accurate reprint of it at london, by john petheram, , vo, in which it is suggested, by the rev. thomas m'crie, with great probability, the author may have been dr. william whittingham. [ ] there were two editions of knox's admonition printed in , within a few months of each other, under a fictitious imprint, and both of them abroad, as will be fully described in vol. iii. [ ] in printing these names, vautr. edit. is very incorrect; instead of john sibbald, john gray, william guthrie, &c., it has "john _sibbard_, john gray, _within gathered_, and stevin bell." yet this unintelligible nonsense is literally copied in mss. l and . mss. a, w, and e, have "sibbard," but give guthry's name correctly. in the summons of treason against the conspirators, john sibbald is called "brother of the laird of cukiston;" and auchinleck is styled sir john auchinleck, chaplain. for mention of guthrey, in connexion with an indignity offered to the cardinal's body, the reader may be referred to pitscottie. in the treasurer's accounts, we find s. was paid to a messenger, sent on the d of december , with "letters to serche and seik the gudes of maister jhonne gray, persoun of sanct nycholace kirk, beside cowper, quhilkis pertenis to our souerane lady be resoun of eschete, throu the said maister jhonnis being fugitive fra the lawes for art and part of the slauchter of the cardinall."--gray's name, however, is not included in the list of persons forfeited by the parliament on the th august . [ ] from the above paragraph in knox, it appears that the prisoners were liberated at different periods between the winter of - , and july . [ ] this statement of knox, written in , or twenty years after the event, is certainly very much opposed to assertions which are easier made than proved, that all the persons concerned in cardinal beaton's assassination came to a violent death. there is no doubt that bishop lesley says, "cædis ujus auctores violenta morte deo vindice mulctantur;" (de rebus gestis, &c., p. ;) but he passes this over in silence, in his english history. dempster also asserts "nam nullus nefariorum percussorum non violenta morte extinctus est."--(hist. eccles. p. .) "so, 'tis observed by the protestants, that there was not one of his (beaton's) murderers but afterwards died a violent, and, for the most part, an ignominious death."--(preface to beaugué's history, p. .) it is not necessary to quote similar assertions reiterated by writers of the present day. james melville died, it is true, during his imprisonment, in or , but certainly not a violent death. norman lesley died of his wounds, but in no inglorious manner, in ; and nineteen years later, in august , sir william kirkaldy of grange, after his gallant defence of the castle of edinburgh, suffered an ignominious death. any other instance of a violent death remains to be proven. [ ] james melvin or melville. see note . spotiswood says he was "one of the house of carnbee." in this way, we may conjecture he was brother of john mailvile of carnbee, who had charters of the lands of granton, st february - , and to his wife margaret leirmonth, th may . their son, john mailvile of carnbee junior, and his wife janet inglis, had a charter of half of these lands, th june . the person who acted such a prominent part in cardinal beaton's murder, was called senior, probably to distinguish him from james, "naturali et legitimo filio" of john mailvile of carnbee, who had a charter of half the lands of carnbee, th november .--brist in bartanzea, is the same as brest, the well known sea-port of france, one of the best harbours in europe, on the west coast of britanny. [ ] ms. g, "gif we, i say, or they." [ ] in vautr. edit. "yeare of our lord." [ ] in vautr. edit. the word _villain_ was mistaken for the name of a person, and thus we have "his other _william_;" and in the marginal note, "the slaughter of that _williame_ davie."--the date of this event, so memorable in scotish history, from its relation to queen mary, was the th of march - . [ ] balfour, as stated at page , was official of lothian, and he still retained his ecclesiastical denomination, parson of flisk, when raised to the bench, th november . immediately after rizzio's murder, in march , he was knighted, and appointed lord clerk-register, in place of mr. james macgill, one of the conspirators. and on the th december , balfour became lord president, by the title of pettendreich. [ ] john sinclair, bishop of brechin, died in april : see subsequent note. [ ] the person here referred to, and whose baptismal name is left blank in the ms., and in all the later copies, was john lesley, bishop of ross. this eminent and learned prelate, whom knox calls "a priest's gett," or illegitimate child, was the natural son of gawin lesley, parson of kingussie, as keith, in his catalogue of bishops, has shown from original documents. lesley's several preferments will afterwards be noticed. he survived till the year . [ ] in vautr. edit. "gate;" ms. g, "geitt." [ ] sir symon preston of craigmillar: see note . [ ] in the ms. "keape." [ ] a treaty of peace between england and france, comprising scotland, was concluded at boulogne, on the th march, and proclaimed at edinburgh in april . [ ] there was concluded a commercial treaty between france and the low countries, th april ; and a treaty of peace between the emperor charles the fifth and mary queen of scots, th december . [ ] from foxe's account, of wallace's trial, we learn that he was a native of fail, in ayrshire; and there was a family of wallace of feale. fail, or failford, in the parish of torbolton, was the site of a monastery founded in , which belonged to the red friars. (see the notices in new stat. account, ayrshire, p. , &c.) the manner in which knox speaks of wallace as "a simple man without learning," may mean, without much pretension to learning, or not having enjoyed a learned education. yet we find two persons of the same name, adam wallace, incorporated at glasgow in and .--his trial and execution took place in ; yet in the latin verses by john johnston of st. andrews, on the scotish martyrs, the date given is th july . ("constantissime demum pro testimonio christi mortuus, edinburgi xvii julij .") [ ] the wife of john cockburn of ormiston, called in those days lady ormiston, was alison sandilands, daughter of sir james sandilands of calder. her son alexander, was knox's pupil: see note . she was still alive in , when vautrollier dedicated "to the honourable and vertuous ladie alison sandilands, lady of hormiston," the treatise called "the confession of faith," by henry balnaves, (see note ,) the ms. of which had been fortunately discovered at ormiston, by richard bannatyne, knox's secretary. [ ] winton castle, in the parish of pencaitland, east lothian, about five miles west from haddington, appears to have been a place of great splendour, according to the glowing description of it by sir richard maitland, in his "historie and cronicle of the house of seyton," p. . winton house or castle, "biggit, with the yard and garding thereof," by george second lord seaton, we are informed, was burned, and the policy destroyed, "by the english of old;" but the house was re-edified by george tenth lord seaton, and third earl of winton, in . [ ] the monastery of the dominican or black friars was one of the largest establishments in edinburgh, with extensive gardens, occupying the site of the building which formerly was the high school, on the rising ground to the south of the cowgate. the close, or "le venelle," still known as the blackfriars wynd, formed a connexion between the monastery and the high street, and had been granted to the friars by alexander the second. the convent was burned to the ground by a sudden fire, on the th april , and had only been partially rebuilt at the time of the reformation. [ ] to the notices at page , respecting john lauder, it may be added, that being one of the auditors of the chamberlain's accounts for the archbishoprick of st. andrews, from to , he is styled archdeacon of teviotdale.--(ms. rental book, advocates library.) in foxe's account of the trial of adam wallace, , lauder is called parson of morebattle. in february , he is styled archidene of teviotdale, and notary public of st. andrews.--(acta parl. scot., vol. ii. p. .) in the same year, lauder signs a deed as "_secretarius_" of archbishop hamilton, (ms. rental book, at st. andrews;) as the deed referred to was cancelled, and reconfirmed in , without any notice of lauder's name, it may be conjectured that he had died during that interval. [ ] in ms. g, "bindeth." [ ] george gordon, fourth earl of huntley, succeeded his grandfather in the year . in , after cardinal beaton's death, he became lord high chancellor. his subsequent history is well known; and he was killed fighting against the earl of murray, at corrichie, about twelve miles from aberdeen, th october .--(douglas and wood's peerage, vol. i. p. ; senators of the college of justice, p. - .) [ ] see note . [ ] robert reid: see subsequent note. [ ] in vautr. edit. "take yon all, my lordis, of the clergie." [ ] foxe, in his book of martyrs, as already noticed in note , has given a minute account of the trial and execution of adam wallace. it will be inserted as no. xii. in the appendix to this volume, every contemporary narrative of such proceedings, at this early period, being possessed of more than ordinary interest. [ ] the queen dowager of scotland embarked at leith on the th, reached dieppe on the th, and rouen on the th september . in this visit to her daughter in france, she was absent for upwards of twelve months. on her return, she landed at portsmouth, about the middle of october , and proceeded to london, where she was welcomed by edward the sixth and the english court. see note . [ ] in december , henry the second, king of france, wrote to the duke of chatelherault, to induce him to resign the regency of scotland in favour of the queen dowager; and on the d march - , the young queen addressed an order to the duke to that effect. this led to his resignation, and on the th april , mary of guise, queen dowager, was proclaimed regent of scotland, with great solemnity and public rejoicings. [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., "all understanding or expectatioun of men." [ ] according to the journal by the english monarch, which contains a description of the queen dowager's sumptuous entertainment during the period she remained at the court of edward, from the d of october to the th of november .--(tytler's edward vi., &c., vol. ii. pp. , .) bishop lesley also takes notice of the "gret banqueting and honorabill pastyme maid for intertenement of the quene douarier;" and "of the honorabill convoye" she had in returning through england, until she reached berwick, (hist. p. ;) when some of the scotish nobility escorted her to holyrood, where she arrived at the end of november that year. [ ] in ms. g, "martin luther." [ ] in the ms. a blank space is left, as if for the purpose of filling in some other names; such as paulus fagius, francis dryander, and justus jonas, who, like the three above mentioned, were eminent foreign divines, and came to england during the reign of edward the sixth. [ ] in adding the name _emanuel gualterus_, knox has evidently confounded two persons: _emanuel_ tremelius, a learned italian, who succeeded fagius as king's reader of hebrew, (strype's eccl. memorials, vol. ii. p. ,) and rudolphus _gualterus_ of zurich, who had visited england in .--(strype's life of cranmer, p. .)--martin bucer died in ; peter martyr, in ; and john a lasco, in . [ ] it is scarcely necessary to add that queen mary of england was the daughter of henry the eighth, by catharine of arragon. her accession to the throne is reckoned from the death of edward the sixth, th july . she married philip, king of spain, th july ; and died th november . [ ] during the short reign of queen mary, it has been reckoned that not less than upwards of persons were committed to the flames, on account of their religious sentiments. [ ] see page . [ ] william harlaw was born soon after the year ; and, as we are informed by calderwood, "first was a taylour in edinburgh; thereafter went to england, and preached some times as a deacoun, according to the corrupt custome of that kirk, under the reigne of king edward. howbeit he was not verie learned, yet his doctrine was plaine and sound, and worthie of commendatioun."--(history, vol. i. p. .) on the death of edward, he returned to scotland in , and in , began "publicly to exhort in edinburgh," and also in other parts of the country. he was one of the preachers, at perth, who were denounced as rebels for usurping the authority of the church, th may .--(see page .) harlaw, in , became minister of the parish of st. cuthberts, in the vicinity of edinburgh, and he continued there till his death. robert pont, who had for four years been his colleague, was presented to "the vicaraige of st. cuthbert's kirk, vaicand be the deceise of william harlaw," in december . [ ] john willock was a native of ayrshire. spotiswood says, he became a franciscan, and lesley, a dominican friar. having at an early period relinquished his monastic habit, he went to england, and was employed as a preacher in st. catherine's, london, and also as chaplain to the duke of suffolk. on the accession of queen mary to the throne of england, he escaped to the continent, and practised as a physician at embden, in friesland. in , and in , he twice visited scotland, on a mission to the queen regent, respecting trade; and having returned in october , he undertook the public office of the ministry. see the notices in the wodrow miscellany, vol. i. pp. - , and the authorities there quoted. [ ] knox's arrival in scotland may be placed about the end of september . he set out from geneva in the previous month, and came to dieppe, from whence he sailed, and landed on the east coast of scotland, not far from berwick. [ ] see subsequent note, page . [ ] this was apparently a metrical version of psalm , but the line does not correspond with any of the known versions of the psalms in metre. the wedderburns, however, may have versified a greater number of psalms than those contained in the volume best known as "the gude and godly ballates:" see note . [ ] in ms. a, "then if all." [ ] in ms. g, "servantis." [ ] in vautr. edit. "that might serve for the purpose." [ ] john erskine of dun.--the house of dun is in the parish of that name, in forfarshire, about half-way between montrose and brechin. [ ] calder house, near mid-calder, in west-lothian, was the seat of sir james sandilands.--his second son james, in , succeeded "schir walter lyndesay, knycht of the roddis, and lord of sanct johns," (he is so styled in sir david lyndesay's register of armes, , fol. ,) as preceptor of torphichen, and thus became head of the knights hospitallers of st. john of jerusalem in scotland. in , lord st. john having resigned the possessions of the order to the crown, he obtained a new charter of the lands belonging to the knights templars and hospitallers in scotland, erected into a barony, with the title of lord torphichen.--(spottiswoode miscellany, vol. ii. pp. , - .) [ ] john fifth lord erskine, and afterwards sixth earl of mar, at this time was governor of edinburgh castle. [ ] archibald campbell, lord lorne, succeeded his father, the fourth earl of argyle, in . [ ] lord james stewart was the natural son of james the fifth, by margaret erskine, daughter of john fifth earl of mar, and fourth lord erskine. this lady afterwards married sir robert douglas of lochleven; and she appears to have enjoyed a pension from the king; as the treasurer, in september , in his "exoneratio," has, "item, gevin to the lady lochlevin, in contentatioun of her pensioun, awing to her zerelie, be ane precept, vj^clxvj lib. xiij s. iiij d." (£ , s. d.) her son lord james stewart was born in , and when five years of age, in , the king conferred on him the priory of st. andrews. in the treasurer's accounts, march , are various entries for dresses to the kingis grace sonis, lord james of kelso, and lord james of sanctandrois; and in may, to "the abbot of kelso, and the priour of sanctandrois." he was also prior of maçon, in france. as prior of st. andrews, he sat in the provincial council held at edinburgh, in october .--(wilkins, concilia, vol. iv. p. .) he was sent to france in march , to invite queen mary to return to scotland; by whom, on the th january - , he was raised to the peerage by the title of earl of murray. [ ] that is, the winter of . [ ] most of these places in kyle, in which knox taught or officiated, have already been noticed; being the seats of john lockhart of barr, hugh wallace of carnell, robert campbell of kingyeancleuch, andrew stewart lord ochiltree, and james chalmers of gadgirth. [ ] easter fell on the th of april, in . [ ] finlayston in the parish of kilmalcolm, near the clyde, to the east of port-glasgow. the silver cups which were used by knox on this occasion, are still carefully preserved; and the use of them was given at the time of dispensing the sacrament in the parish church of kilmalcolm, so long as the glencairn family resided at finlayston.--the title of earl of glencairn has been dormant since the death of james th earl in . [ ] dr. m'crie, on the authority of this passage, says, that most of the gentlemen of the mearns "entered into a solemn and mutual bond, in which they renounced the popish communion, and engaged to maintain and promote the pure preaching of the gospel, as providence should favour them with opportunities. this seems to have been the first of those religious bonds or covenants, by which the confederation of the protestants in scotland was so frequently ratified."--(life of knox, vol. i. p. .)--i do not think, however, that knox's words are quite conclusive on this point: that the mutual agreement or resolution of the gentlemen of the mearns, had assumed the form of a band or covenant, such as "the common band," signed on the d december , (see page ,) or those of a later date, which knox has inserted in the second book of his history. [ ] william keith, fourth earl marischall, succeeded his grandfather, in . he accompanied james the fifth in his visit to france, in ; and was nominated an extraordinary lord of session in . see note , for sir ralph sadler's opinion of him. it was at his request that knox, in the year , addressed his letter to the queen dowager. he died th october . [ ] we find that at the siege of leith, in , "young henry drummond" was slain.--(lesley's hist. p. ; holinshed's chron. p. .) [ ] this letter to the queen dowager was originally printed in a very small volume, without date, or name of the place or printer, but apparently on the continent: it is entitled "the copie of a letter sent to the ladye mary dowagire regent of scotland, by john knox, in the yeare ." [ ] james beaton was nephew of the cardinal, and was preferred to the see of glasgow in . he has been incidentally mentioned in note ; and in reference to this, lesley says that the governor, after cardinal beaton's death, "disponed the archbishoprike of sanct androis to his owne broder, the abbot of paisley, and gaif ane gift of the abbay [abbacy] of arbroith to george douglas, bastard sone to the erle of angus, _notwithstanding that maister james beatoun_, tender cousing to the cardinall, _was lawfullie provydit thairto of befoir_; quhilk maid gret trubill in the countrey eftirwart."--(hist. p. .) it may be added, that when beaton was translated to glasgow in , the abbacy of arbroath was conferred on lord john hamilton, second son of the governor.--(ib. p. .) [ ] the letter addressed by knox to the queen dowager in , (as above, note ,) was reprinted at geneva, "_nowe augmented and explained by the author_, in the yeare of our lord ." it will be included in volume third. [ ] elizabeth bowes, mother-in-law of the reformer, sent before him to dieppe. she was the daughter and co-heiress of sir roger aske of aske in yorkshire, and by her husband, richard bowes, youngest son of sir ralph bowes of streathan, had two sons and ten daughters. see pedigree of the family, in m'crie's life of knox, vol. ii. p. . knox's first letter addressed "to his mother in law, mistres bowis," is dated from london, d june . [ ] this very zealous and disinterested friend of the reformer, as stated in note , was a cadet of the ancient family of campbell of loudon. [ ] archibald campbell, "the old" earl of argyle, was fourth earl, and died in the year . [ ] castle campbell, now in ruins, is situated in the ochil hills, immediately above the village of dollar. it was burned and destroyed by montrose, during the civil wars, in . [ ] sir colin campbell of glenurchy, the ancestor of the breadalbane family. he was a younger son, but by the death of two elder brothers, he succeeded to the family estates in . he became a stedfast friend to the reformed religion; and survived till the year . [ ] this date should evidently be . knox having remained in scotland till after spring, he arrived at dieppe, in the month of july . [ ] knox's appellation against the sentence of the bishops, in , was first printed in the year . [ ] there seems to be a confusion in the dates of the events recorded in this paragraph. knox, as stated above, had left scotland in july , and returned in may ; yet the comet he mentions was evidently that which made its appearance in september .--(hevelii cometographia, p. . see also next note.) christian the third, king of denmark, died at the castle of coldinghuus, st january , aged . the commissioners for a treaty with england met at dunse, in july ; and afterwards at carlisle, for settling matters in the borders. this treaty was concluded in july . yet the queen regent, before november , at the instigation of france, was prevailed upon to declare war with england. but the nobility and barons would not consent to the proposed invasion. [ ] bishop lesley, at the close of , among other "portenta," describes this "flammivomus et barbatus cometa."--(de rebus, &c. p. .) sir james balfour also says, "a fearfull comett appeired this zeire [ ,] which not only, as the sequell proved, protendit change in government, but in religione lykwayes."--(annals, vol. i. p. .) in those days comets were regarded as the harbingers of disastrous events. thus shakespeare, in the first part of his henry vi.,-- "comets importing change of times and states;" and again,-- "now shine it like a comet of revenge, a prophet to the fall of all our foes;" and milton, in paradise lost,-- "and like a comet burn'd, that fires the length of ophiuchus huge in th' artick sky, and from his horrid hair shakes pestilence and war." [ ] newbattle, in the parish of that name in mid-lothian, was the site of an abbey founded by david the first, in the year . [ ] wark castle: see note , page . [ ] maxwell-heugh, is a village on a height to the south of the tweed, nearly opposite the eastern part of the town of kelso. [ ] hume castle: see note , page . [ ] in ms. g, "pavilion." [ ] this was in november . [ ] ms. g, instead of "breath," substitutes very oddly, "this put an affray in monsieur d'oysell's breaches." [ ] of these preachers, harlaw has been noticed at page : douglas and methven will afterwards be mentioned. [ ] john willock returned to scotland from embden in friesland, (see note , page ,) in october . he continued to preach in different parts of the country, and to officiate publicly in edinburgh, in the year , when it was unsafe for knox to remain.--(wodrow miscellany, vol. i. p. .) [ ] george, sixth lord seatoun. [ ] sanct geill, or st. giles, was the tutelar saint of the metropolis, whose name is still retained in connexion with the collegiate church in the old town of edinburgh. [ ] the north loch formed a kind of boundary of the city towards the north, in the hollow ground, between princes street and the old town, and extended nearly from st. cuthbert's church to the trinity college church, in former times. [ ] in pitcairn's criminal trials will be found some interesting details, respecting four of the preachers mentioned by knox, who were denounced "as rebels for usurping the authority of the church," th may , viz., john christison and william harlaw, at perth; john willock, at ayr; and paul methven, at dundee; along with the names of the persons who became cautioners for their appearance, (vol. i. p. *, &c.) [ ] andrew durie: see subsequent note to page . [ ] james, son of robert chalmer of gadgirth, by margaret, daughter of sir hugh campbell of loudoun. he had several charters under the great seal in , of parts of his estate in the shires of ayr and wigtoun. he married annabella, daughter of john cunninghame of caprintoun, in ayrshire. (nisbet's heraldry, app. * , vol. i. p. .) [ ] this use of "me," instead of "i," or "we," occurs in all the copies. [ ] this appellation, according to some payments made by authority of the town council, was not later than february - . [ ] st. giles's day was the st of september. in the appendix, no. xiii., some contemporary notices will be given of the disturbances which were occasioned in september , by this idolatrous procession. [ ] james carmichael was for many years one of the magistrates of edinburgh. he filled the office of dean of guild from october to , again, from to , and from to . in his official capacity, he had the charge of the "kirk werk," that is of looking after the preservation of st. giles's church, and taking charge of the jewels, the gold and silver candlesticks, eucharists, chalices, and other precious things belonging to that church; but these were all ruthlessly disposed of, by order of the council, (including the _arm-bane_ of sanct geill, or rather the ring with "ane dyamant stane, quhilk wes on the fingar of the forsaid arme of sanct geill,") in october . see appendix, no. xiii. [ ] in ms. g, "the comone crose."--probably the girth cross, at the foot of the canongate, near holyrood. but arnot also makes mention of st. john's cross, and of a third, near the tolbooth in that street.--(hist. of edinburgh, p. .) [ ] between the _bowes_, must mean the west-bow and the nether-bow; or the two principal gates of the old town. [ ] david forress: see note , page . [ ] see pages - . [ ] andrew durie, bishop of galloway, was brother of george durie, abbot of dunfermline, (note ,) and was born before the year . his name, "andreas durie," occurs in the registers of both colleges, as having been incorporated at st. andrews, in the year ; and at glasgow, in . he probably completed his studies abroad. upon a vacancy in the abbacy of melrose, he had sufficient interest to procure the king's letters of commendation to the pope, in the year , and notwithstanding powerful rival claims, he succeeded in the following year in obtaining the benefice. andrew, abbot of melrose, was present at the trial of sir john borthwick, in ; and he appears as an extraordinary lord of session on the d of july . on the following day, he was recommended to be successor to henry wemyss as bishop of galloway, conjoined with the deanery of the chapel royal, and the abbacy of tungland upon his resigning that of melrose, but retaining a pension of marks, and some other emoluments. in the provincial council at edinburgh, , his name is enrolled as "andreas episcopus candidæ casæ et capellæ regiæ strivilingensis."--he was the bearer of a letter from queen mary, in france, to her mother, in june .--(lettres de marie stuart, vol. i. p. .) bishop durie died at edinburgh, in september . his name occurs in the list of scottish poets; but none of his writings are known to be preserved, although his sayings recorded by knox, indicate a rhyming propensity. john rolland of dalkeith, in the prologue of his "seven sages," a kind of poetical romance, alludes to the poets who flourished at the scotish court, and after naming lyndsay, bellenden, and william stewart, who he says, to mak in scottis, richt weill he knew that art, he immediately adds, bishop durie, sum tyme of galloway, for his pleasure sum tymes wald tak thair part. [ ] this has an evident allusion to the name of mons. de ruby, one of the frenchmen patronized at this time by the queen dowager. bishop lesley, in noticing the several appointments made by the queen regent, in , says, there was "ane callit monsieur rubie, frenchman, a procutour of paris, appointit to keip the greit seill, and to be as vice-chancelar and assistar to the erle of huntlie, then chancelar."--(history, p. .) he was controller of her household, in : see subsequent note, page . [ ] david panter, or panyter, who held several church livings, was much employed in public negotiations abroad. his uncle patrick panter, abbot of cambuskenneth, and david panter, were successively secretaries of state in the reigns of james the fourth and fifth, and "being admirably versed in the latin tongue," their names are honourably distinguished by the series of letters of our kings, addressed to foreign princes, which ruddiman published under the title of "epistolæ regum scotorum," &c., in the years and , in vols. vo. in the treasurer's accounts, , we find this entry,-- "item, the thrid day of aprile, gevin for vj^c. ( ) crownis of the sonn, of fynance deliverit in france to maister david panyter, secretar ambassatour thair, the sowme of viij^c. x lib." (£ .) on the same day, a similar payment of crowns (or £ ) was delivered to sir john campbell of lundy, ambassador in france. panter was promoted to the see of ross in the latter part of . sir james balfour, in his annals, calls him "a notable adulterer."--(annals, vol. i. p. .) he died, says holinshed, of a lingering illness, at stirling, on the st of october .--(keith's catal. of bishops, p. .) [ ] bishop lesley, in noticing the return of the commissioners from the queen's marriage, says, "they came to deip about the ende of (august,) quhair suddantlie all the principall nobillmen and prelatis became seik. but shortlie thairefter, the most of thame, being of the wysest and most valyeant of the realme of scotland, deceissit their, to the gret hurt of the commoun weill of the realme."--(hist. p. .) the dates of their death are, however, not accurately given, either by lesley or more recent historians. the commissioners who were appointed on the th and th of june , were james beaton, archbishop of glasgow; lord james stewart, prior of st. andrews; george lord seaton, provost of edinburgh; and john erskine of dun, provost of montrose; along with robert reid, bishop of orkney; george earl of rothes; gilbert earl of cassillis, lord treasurer; and james lord flemyng, great chamberlain. the first four being present in the parliament held at edinburgh th november , to report their proceedings, it was then mentioned, that the bishop of orkney was "deceissit, and the earls of rothes, cassillis, and the lord flemyng yit remannand in the partis of france."--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) this shows that no tidings of their death had then reached this country: see the three following notes. [ ] gilbert kennedy, third earl of cassilis, as already noticed at page , completed his studies under george buchanan at paris. in , he was appointed high treasurer; and was one of the eight commissioners sent from scotland as representatives of the scottish nation, at the marriage of mary and the dauphin of france. he died on his return, at dieppe, on the th november . [ ] george lesley, third earl of rothes, the father of norman lesley, was tried before the governor for his accession to the murder of cardinal beaton, but wan unanimously acquitted. he was the son of william lesley and margaret daughter of sir michael balfour of mountquhannie; and this relationship may have induced james balfour and his brothers to join their cousin, norman lesley, in the castlo of st. andrews. the earl of rothes had been appointed one of the lords of council and session th november ; and he attended james the fifth, in his journey to france in . he was employed in various public commissions; and was sent as ambassador to denmark in . he died at dieppe on the th november . his son andrew succeeded to the title as fourth earl of rothes, and was served heir of his father, th february - .--(burgh court-book of dundee, marked vol. iv.) [ ] james lord flemyng, hereditary great chamberlain of scotland, was the third of his family in succession who held that office, having succeeded his father, malcolm, lord flemyng, who was slain at pinkie, in . james, as mentioned above, was one of the commissioners who were seized with illness at dieppe. on the th november, he made his testament; and having returned to paris for the benefit of medical aid, he lingered there till he died on the th december , aged .--(crawfurd's officers of state, p. .) [ ] robert reid, although accused by knox of avarice, applied at least his wealth to laudable purposes; and in the words of keith, was "a man of great learning, and a most accomplished politician." he entered st. salvator's college, st. andrews, in , and took his master's degree in ; and then proceeded to paris. on his return to scotland, he became successively sub-dean and official of moray; abbot of kinloss, in ; commendator of beaulieu, in ; one of the lords of council and session, in ; bishop of orkney, in ; and lord president of the court of session, about the end of . during all this time, he was frequently employed in foreign embassies, and other diplomatic affairs. a variety of liberal benefactions on his part have been recorded, such as the foundation of bursaries, the adornment of the buildings at kinloss, which he enriched with what was considered an ample library, and the endowment of a school at kirkwall. he also erected an addition to the bishop's palace in kirkwall; and the cathedral church of st. magnus, in that town, still exhibits the fine porch and some additional pillars erected at his expense; and had he survived for a few years, he no doubt would have put a finishing hand to this venerable edifice; the choir or chancel of which serves for the parish church, (fitted up as usual in defiance of all good taste.) bishop reid's munificence was not limited to his own diocese, as a bequest of merks towards founding a college for the education of youth in edinburgh, enabled the magistrates, in , to purchase from the provost of the kirk of field, (st. mary's in the fields,) the ground on which were erected the buildings of our university. lesley styles bishop reid a man "of singular wit, judgment, guid learning, and lyve, with lang experience," (hist. p. ;) and says he died at dieppe on the th, but according to other authorities, it was the th september .--(keith's catal. pp. - ; senators of the college of justice, pp. - .) [ ] in ms. g, "lickit of the same buist." [ ] to this marginal note there was added, "insignia quidem elogium;" but those words are deleted. [ ] john sinclair was the fourth son of sir oliver sinclair of roslin, and a younger brother of henry sinclair, bishop of ross. he was admitted one of the lords of council and session, under the title of rector of snaw, th april . in , he sat in the provincial council at edinburgh, as dean of restalrig. in , he was promoted to the see of brechin. his brother henry, bishop of ross and president of the court of session, having died in - , the bishop of brechin was, on the th november, advanced to the presidentship of the session. but he did not long enjoy his judicial and prelatic dignities, as he was seized with fever, and died in the month of april . this we learn from ferrerius, the continuator of hector boethius, who, mentioning that henry sinclair, bishop of ross, had collected materials for writing a history of scotland, which were in the hands of john sinclair, bishop of brechin, says, "sed idem (præsul) quoque pauculos post menses in febrem peracutam decidit, ex qua derepente o virorum in terris numero exemptus est."--(h. boethii hist. app. p. , paris, , folio.) [ ] see note . [ ] that is, th of march - . [ ] sym and barron were citizen burgesses of edinburgh, and zealous friends of the reformer. as here intimated, james sym, in whose house knox resided, on his return to scotland, had died before . at page , knox has given an account of the death of elizabeth adamson, barron's wife, in . james barron was one of the magistrates of edinburgh, and filled the office of dean of guild from michaelmas , to the same term in ; and again in and . at the first general assembly, held at edinburgh th december , james barron and edward hope were the commissioners appointed for the town, along with john knox, as minister. his name also occurs in the proceedings of the assemblies in the years , , and --(booke of the universall kirk, pp. , , , .) [ ] in ms. g, "afflictioun;" vautr. edit. has "affection." [ ] the "band" subscribed by the earls of argyle, glencairn, morton, and others, dated d december , has been considered as the first covenant or engagement of the scottish reformers, for their mutual defence, in which they engage "to maintain, set forward, and establish the word of god, and his congregation." see, however, note . [ ] keith supposes it was erskine of dun who signed the letter at page , "for the lord erskine (he says) had not yet joined himself to that party."--(hist. vol. i. p. .) [ ] there was a john gray who took his master's degree at st. andrews, in the year . it is uncertain whether the person mentioned in the text can be identified with mr. john gray, who held the office of clerk to the general assembly, from till his death, which took place in april .--(register of conf. testaments; booke of the univ. kirk, vol. i. pp. , .) [ ] that is, to procure the papal bulls, confirming sinclair's appointment to the see of ross, upon the death of david panter, in october : (see note .) but it appears that sinclair was not consecrated until . [ ] henry sinclair, a younger son of sir oliver sinclair of roslin, was born in the year . he studied at st. andrews, and was incorporated in st. leonard's college in . he obtained the favour of james the fifth, who appointed him a lord of session; and he was admitted on the th november , as rector of glasgow. in , he was commendator of the abbey of kilwinning; which benefice he exchanged with gawin hamilton for the deanery of glasgow. he was employed in various public matters abroad; and during the absence of bishop reid, he acted as vice-president of the court of session. on reid's death, he was admitted, on the d december , as lord president; and in , he succeeded david panter in the see of ross. he died at paris, after undergoing a painful surgical operation, on the d january . lesley calls him "ane wyse and lernit prelate," (hist. p. ,) and ferrerius refers to his ms. collections for writing a history of scotland. his name written upon various books and manuscripts preserved in the advocates library, and in other collections, evince his great love of literature, in common with several other members of his family. [ ] it has generally been supposed that the book of common prayer of the church of england, known as the liturgy of edward the sixth, was the one here recommended; and the mention of "the lessonis of the new and old testament, conforme to the ordour," &c., renders this most probable. dr. m'crie has considered this point very fully in his life of knox, (note dd, vol. i. p. - ,) and comes to a similar conclusion. if, however, the english prayer book was then used, it was soon afterwards replaced by "the forme of prayers and ministrations of the sacraments, &c., vsed in the englishe congregation at geneva: and approved, by the famous and godly learned man, iohn caluyn." this volume was originally "imprinted at geneva, by iohn crespin, m.d.lvi." small vo. there were later impressions at geneva, in and . it was very frequently reprinted in this country between and , and was usually prefixed to the metrical version of the psalms. [ ] sir david hamilton of preston, as heir of his father robert hamilton, had charters of the lands of priestgill and langkype, in and . he was one of the attendants of james the fifth in his voyage to france in .--he survived till november : see the detailed account given in anderson's house of hamilton, p. . [ ] in ms. g, "how heavy and displeasing a thing." [ ] not one who belonged to the law, but a person whom the law had rendered infamous.--the reference here is to john douglas: see page . [ ] vautr. edit. makes this "how well," which changes the sense. [ ] in ms. g, "waver from:" vautr. edit. has "vary of his faith." [ ] in the other copies, the signature is simply "sanct androis." [ ] the archbishop here alludes to his being _legatus natus_, or pope's legate, as well as primate of the scottish church. [ ] that is, john douglas. [ ] in a former page, mention is made of this lady, who obtained in her days sufficient notoriety. (see p. , notes and .) grizzel sempill was the daughter of robert master of sempill, who succeeded his father, william, as third lord sempill, in . the death of her husband, james hamilton of stanehouse, is also mentioned by knox at page . he had been appointed captain of the castle of edinburgh, about september ; (lesley's hist. p. ;) and five years later, when he lost his life, he also filled the office of provost of the city. his eldest son and heir, james, who was slain at the same time, was his father's deputy, and director of the chancery. notwithstanding the ambiguity of knox's statement at page , we may charitably conclude, it was only subsequent to her husband's death that she became the avowed mistress of john hamilton, archbishop of st. andrews, by whom she had several children: (see note .) two of her sons are thus styled in the register of the great seal: "legitimatio johannis hammyltoun junioris bastardi filii naturalis grissillidis sempill filiæ roberti magistri de sempill, et willielmi hammyltoun ejus fratris etiam bastardi." oct. . see also note by george crawfurd, in his officers of state, p. .--it was probably in virtue of some property she may have acquired that she obtained the title of lady gilton; as there is no evidence of her having contracted any second marriage. on the th july , (not , as usually stated,) william third lord creichton of sanquhar, was slain in the governor's chamber by robert master of sempill; who was acquitted by the governor, on the th september .--(pitcairn's crim. trials, vol. i. p. *.) "he escaped punishment, (says pitscottie,) by means of john hamilton, bishop of st. andrews, brother to the governor, who entertained the lady stenhouse, _commonly called lady gilton_, daughter to this robert lord semple, as his concubine." from the date of the remission, it must have been her brother who had committed this murder. buchanan and other authorities likewise attribute his acquittal to the same influence; and one compiler says of the archbishop, in very plain terms, "amangis many utheris his harlottis, he interteayned this harlot semple, nather bewtifull, of good fame, or utherwayis in any sort notable, except his awin kynsman, and followed him as scho had bene his lauchfull wyffe."--(johnston's hist, of scotland, ms., advocates library.) [ ] archibald fourth earl of argyle, in , married to his first wife, lady helen hamilton, second daughter of james first earl of arran, and sister of the duke of chattelherault. their son archibald succeeded as fifth earl of argyle about the end of . see page . [ ] see note . [ ] in ms. g, "waver from." [ ] spotiswood says that douglas was a carmelite or white friar.--(hist. p. .) it is not improbable he may have been the same person whose name appears as a determinant in st. salvator's college in . in that year another john douglas had the same rank in st. mary's college, where he became a licentiate in . it is, i think, quite certain that john douglas, who was chaplain to the earl of argyle in , and who may have assumed the name of grant to escape apprehension, should not be confounded with the provost of st. mary's college, as keith and other writers have done. the latter was born about the year , and was descended from the douglasses of pettendreich. he studied at st. andrews at the same time with john wynrame, and was a determinant in st. leonard's college in , and a licentiate in . whether he was the person who entered the carmelite order, may be left to conjecture; but on st october , he was elected provost of st. mary's college. in , "magister joannes douglas prepositus novi collegii mariani," was elected rector of the university; and being annually elected to this office for the unprecedented period of twenty-three successive years, ( - , being called "vigesimus tertius rectoratus johannis douglas,) and being a constant resident in st. andrews, it is obvious he could not have been the obscure person who was protected by the earl of argyle. [ ] "how the bishop's conscience (says dr. m'crie) stood affected as to these points, we know not; but it is certain that his practice was very far from being immaculate."--(wilkins, concilia, vol. iv. p. ; life of knox, vol. i. p. .) [ ] archibald fourth earl of argyle, in , was designed son and heir-apparent of colin earl of argyle. he succeeded to the title before . in , he was opposed to the proposed alliance of edward the sixth and mary queen of scots; and distinguished himself at the battle of pinkie, in , and at the siege of haddington, in the following year. the precise time of his death is not ascertained; and his testament is not known to be preserved. but he died towards the close of , as on the st august that year he granted a charter to his son archibald, then lord lorne; on the d december following, in the confirmation of the same charter, it is expressed that he was then deceased. [ ] knox in thus alluding to the conduct of archibald fifth earl of argyle, evidently points at his continued adherence to queen mary, at the time when the above passage was written. [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., this date is introduced into the text, as th of may . if this was not a clerical mistake, it might be held to indicate that the intermediate ms., from which vautrollier's edition, as well as the glasgow ms. was taken, had been transcribed in that year. [ ] on the margin of the ms. is written, apparently in knox's own hand, and then deleted, "here tak in the beggars summonds warning the freres." in vautr. edit., in ms. g, and in all the other copies, it is introduced in this place, where it stands wholly unconnected. the paper referred to occurs at the end of the original ms., (fol. ,) as a single leaf, entitled "the blind, crooked, &c., to the flockis of all friars within this realme," &c. it will be seen that the author had finally resolved upon inserting it near the beginning of book second. [ ] see note , and appendix, no. xiv. for some notices of this provincial council, in - . [ ] knox himself fixes the date of his arrival in scotland to the d of may : see page . [ ] in the ms. it was originally "the threepenny faith." spottiswood and other writers, (see keith, vol. i. pp. , ,) have erroneously imagined that this refers to the catechisme, "set furth, in his provincial counsale," by archbishop hamilton; which has this colophon, "prentit at sanct androus, be the command and expensis of the maist reuerend father in god, iohne archbischop of sanct androus, and primat of ye hail kirk of scotland, the xxix. day of august, the zeir of our lord m.d. lii." to, leaves. but besides the difference of six years in the date, and the absurdity of supposing that a volume of that size could have been sold for such a price, the catechism was never intended for the laity, but was specially enjoyned to be used by "all and sindry personis, vicars and curattis," both for their own edification, and for reading a portion of it to "thair awin parochianaris,"--"quhen thair cummis na precheour to thame to schaw thame the word of god."--of the twopenny faith, published in , no copy is known to be preserved. [ ] it is said that hepburn, bishop of moray, imagining that the last of the enactments which knox has specified had a special reference to his licentious conduct, justified himself, not by an appeal to the canon law, but to example set by archbishop hamilton, who presided in the council. [ ] at page , notice is taken of the appointment of monsieur de ruby, in , as keeper of the great seal; and he is there said to have been comptroller in . for this we have the authority of lindsay of pitscottie, who says, "soone thairefter, she (the queen regent) changed her officeris of state, and maid ane maister ruby comptroller, quho used sick rigour in his office, that incontinent he was deposed."--(chronicles, sub anno .) but it must be added, that pitscottie is very inaccurate in many of his statements; as vielmort, according both to knox and lesley, held the office of comptroller; and the latter expressly says, that ruby "kepit the great seill during the hoill time of the queen regent's government," (hist. p. ;) that is, from till . and in , in an act of parliament, he is styled "m^c ynes de rubbay _garde des seaulx_ dicelle dame," apparently meaning queen mary.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) according to another authority, he held the great seal until , when he was succeeded by david rizzio.--(scott's staggering state, app. p. . see tytler's hist. vol. vi. p. .) [ ] bartholomew villemore, it is said, had been named comptroller by queen mary, in march - , but he was never admitted.--(scott's staggering state, app. p. .) but bishop lesley mentions his appointment as comptroller by the queen regent in the year .--(history, p. .) [ ] lord james stewart, the eldest of the natural sons of james the fifth, is noticed at page , as having been educated under george buchanan, and as commendator of the monasteries of kelso and melrose: see also page , note . but the date of his death is there erroneously stated. instead of , it happened in august or september . the queen dowager nominated her uncle, charles cardinal of lorraine, and brother of francis duke of guyse, to be his successor, "be vertue of the acte of naturalization," (lesley's history, p. ;) but the cardinal never obtained possession of these lucrative benefices. the commendatorship of melrose was afterwards conferred on james douglas, a cadet of the morton family. [ ] parliament did not meet till the th of november . [ ] the duke of chattelherault gave in, at the parliament held at edinburgh on the th december , a protestation "tuiching the marriage of our souerane lady;" and another protest, on the th november , "tuiching the crowne matrimoniale."--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. , .) [ ] in ms. g, "except the duke for his interest." [ ] in ms. g, "professed;" and in the second next line, "profess;" but the words are corrected to "possessed," and "possess," in edit. . [ ] in vautr. edit. and ms. g, "harlawe." [ ] these early and zealous friends of the reformation, who undertook the office of exhorters, were all laymen, with perhaps the exception of robert hamilton, who afterwards became minister of st. andrews. robert lockhart is mentioned by knox in october , as endeavouring to make an agreement between the queen regent, and the congregation, without success. [ ] in ms. g, "meffen." [ ] paul methven, after the reformation, was appointed minister of jedburgh; but to the scandal of his brethren in the ministry, and according to the account of "this horrible fact," related by knox in his fourth book, he was found guilty of adultery, and deposed and excommunicated, june . [ ] respecting willock, see notes , . [ ] "sacrate authoritie," here, and in other places, may mean the _constituted_ rather than "sacred authority," as in ms. g, and vautr. edit. [ ] sir james sandilands of calder, the ancestor of the torphichen family. his pedigree is fully detailed in douglas and wood's peerage of scotland, vol. ii. pp. - . he was born about the year ; and had a charter of lands to himself and margaret forrester, only daughter of archibald forrester of corstorphine, d august . in the peerage, sir james is said to have "died after ." this date may have misled mr. tytler, in stating that it was the preceptor of the knights of st. john, commonly called lord st. john, who made this appearance in parliament.--(history, vol. vi. pp. , .) but dr. m'crie has in like manner confounded the father with his second son.--(life of knox, vol. i. p. .) sir james probably survived till the beginning of . on the th july , his eldest son and successor was styled "john sandilands of calder, younger," which proves that his father was still alive. james sandilands, his second son, became lord st. john, and, as stated in note , he obtained the temporal lordship of lord torphichen, in ; but leaving no issue, the title, on his death, devolved on his grand-nephew, james sandilands of calder, th november . [ ] this permission to read the scriptures "in our common tongue," refers to the act of parliament th march - : see page . [ ] in vautr. edit. "in severitie of prayer;" ms. g has "in fervent and oft prayers." [ ] ms. g has "stabilitie;" vautr. edit. "abilitie." [ ] in ms. g, "lavacrie." [ ] the council of constance, in , whilst acknowledging that "christ instituted the venerable sacrament of the eucharist, after the supper, and administered it to his disciples under the forms of bread and wine;" nevertheless decreed that the laity should not be allowed to partake of the cup. this prohibition by the romish church, was the occasion of great discontent in some of the foreign churches, more especially in bohemia and switzerland, from the time of john huss to that of luther.--as both george wishart and knox had previously dispensed the sacrament, according to the original institution, this may have led to this demand for such a privilege to the protestants in scotland, in . [ ] it is not unlikely that this last demand, and the increasing strength of the reformers, may have led the catholic prelates and clergy to enact some of the canons in their last provincial council, for reforming the lives of their own body. [ ] in ms. g, "a longe purs." [ ] vautr. edit. omits the important words, "sayis the chronicle," and reads, " , powndes gathered by the laird of earles haule."--in the anonymous "historie of the estate of scotland," the sum to be paid, it is said, "was within , lib."--(wodrow miscellany, vol. i. p. .) [ ] this chronicle is not known to be extant; but robert lindsay of pitscottie, in his chronicles of scotland compiled about , enumerates, as one of his authors, "sir william bruce of earleshall, knight, who hath written very justly all the deeds since floudoun field."--in douglas's baronage, pp. - , there is a genealogy of this family, from which we learn that sir william was the heir of his father, sir alexander bruce of earlshall, who had the honour of knighthood conferred on him by james the fourth. sir william succeeded his father in , and is said to have been knighted by the same monarch. this is apparently a mistake; but his name appears as _miles_, in a charter dated . in may , sir william bruce became surety for maxwell of teling, (criminal trials, vol. i. p. * ;) but how long after this he may have survived, is uncertain. [ ] pitscottie, calderwood, spottiswood, and other writers, have given an account of the fate of this aged priest, who suffered martyrdom at st. andrews, in the eighty-second year of his age. but foxe's account of his trial and sentence is the earliest and most minute, and will be inserted as no. xiv. of the appendix to the present volume. myln himself expressed a hope, which was realized, that he would be the last person in this country thus to suffer for the cause of truth. [ ] although this _cairn_ was not allowed to remain, there has lately been erected, within sight of the castle of st. andrews, a granite obelisk, to commemorate the names of the more eminent scotish martyrs. it bears the following inscription:-- "in memory of the martyrs patrick hamilton, henry forrest, george wishart, walter mill, who, in support of the protestant faith, suffered by fire at st. andrews, between the years mdxxviii and mdlviii. _the righteous shall be held in everlasting remembrance._ [ ] in vautr. edit. "officiall." [ ] see note . [ ] in vautr. edit. "becommeth." [ ] in vautr. edit. "officers." [ ] see page . [ ] no notice of this protest occurs in the acts and proceedings of the parliament held at edinburgh on the th november , when, from the reference to the crown matrimonial, at page , it must have been presented. knox indeed says it was refused; but the proceedings of that parliament, which also sat on the th december, seem not to have been fully recorded, or at least preserved. [ ] the treaty of peace referred to was concluded at cateau-cambrésis, between france, england, and spain, on the d april . the evident design of the courts of france and spain at this time was to endeavour the extirpation of heresy, or the protestant faith in england, as well as in other countries. [ ] in ms. g, "in hir hairt." [ ] it has already been noticed that the preachers summoned were paul methven, john christison, william harlaw, and john willock. as they did not appear on the day finally fixed, they and their cautioners were denounced as rebels, on the th of may . see the sentence, in m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. p. . [ ] in the outer margin, (fol. iii,) knox had written some words which have been scored through, and are partly cut away by the binder. as well as i can decipher the words, the sentence may be thus read:--"luik quhether it be best to tak in heir the beggars warning, or in the place befoir appoynted." see note , page ; also pages , . [ ] patrick lord ruthven held the provostship of perth for many successive years: see note . [ ] mr. james halyburton is usually styled tuter of pitcur. at the siege of brochty, in - , he was left in command of certain companies of horse.--(lesley's hist. p. .) he filled the office of provost of dundee for a considerable period, as will afterwards be noticed. his name, as provost, occurs in parliamentary proceedings, and .--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. pp. , .) [ ] in ms. g, "meffen." [ ] at page , knox says that the meeting of provincial council in - , continued till the day of his arrival; whilst according to bishop lesley, this provincial council, held at edinburgh in , "endit apoun the x daye of apryle. efter the quhilk, the quene regent immediatelie caused summounde john knox, john willox, john douglas, and paule meffane, to compeir before the justice in striveling the x day of maij, onder the pane of rebellioun."--(hist, p. .) to reconcile this with the date of knox's arrival in scotland, dr. m'crie has remarked, that "though the acts were concluded on the th april, it was not agreed to close the council on that day." [ ] sir john maxwell, second son of robert fourth lord maxwell, being presumptive heir of his brother, was called master of maxwell, in charters granted to him and his wife agnes, eldest daughter and co-heiress of william fourth lord herreis of terregles, st february - . his elder brother robert was served heir of his father, st august , and married lady beatrix douglas, second daughter of james earl of morton; but he died th september ; and his posthumous son john became sixth lord maxwell. but sir john maxwell of terregles still retained his designation as master, and was actively employed in public affairs. in december , and again in , he was one of the commissioners for a treaty of peace with england; and was warden of the west marches.--(lesley's hist. p. .) from the above statement by knox, it appears he had been committed to ward by order of the queen regent. bishop lesley thus makes mention of his having escaped from the castle of edinburgh. although the date , appears in the printed copy as supplied by the editor, the events recorded from page to page , belong to :--"about this tyme, the master of maxwell, quho was keped presoner in the castell of edinburgh, departed furth of the same be ane corde our the wall thairof, quhair thair was certane horsis in redines with frendis of his owne, quho receaved and convoyide him in his owne countrey; and sone thaireftir he joyned him selfe with the lordis of the congregatione."--(hist. p. .) [ ] [in note , it is stated that knox had changed his intention of inserting "the beggars summonds," at the end of book first; and purposed introducing it into this place, with a sentence which was written on the top margin of the ms. the glasgow manuscript, fol. , b, in reference to this alteration, has this marginal note: "thair is in this place, in the uther copie, inserted the summoundis against the freris, quhilk is in the end of the first buke." unfortunately the binder has cut away two lines at the top of the page, and the deficiency cannot be supplied from any other copy. in order, however, not to interrupt the narrative in the text, the summonds is here inserted in a different type.] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "zealous brether . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . upon the gaittis and ports of all the freiris places within this realme, in the moneth of januar , preceding that whitsunday that they delodged, which is this, etc. _and so tak in heir the beggars warning._ "the blynd, cruked, bedrelles, wedowis, orphelingis, and all uther pure, sa viseit be the hand of god, as may not worke, to the flockes of all freires within this realme, we wishe restitutioun of wranges bypast, and reformatioun in tyme cuming, for saluatioun. "ye yourselfes ar not ignorant, and thocht ye wald be, it is now, thankes to god, knawen to the haill warlde, be his infallible worde, that the benignitie or almes of all christian pepill perteynis to us allanerly; quhilk ye, being hale of bodye, stark, sturdye, and abill to wyrk, quhat under pretence of povertie, (and nevirtheles possessing maist easelie all abundance,) quhat throw cloiket and huided simplicitie, thoght your proudnes is knawen, and quhat be feynzeit holines, quhilk now is declared superstitioun and idolatrie, hes thir many yeirs, exprese against godis word, and the practeis of his holie apostles, to our great torment, (allace!) maist falslie stowen fra us. and als ye have, be your fals doctryne and wresting of godis worde, (lerned of your father sathan,) induced the hale people, hie and law, in sure hoip and beleif, that to cloith, feid, and nurreis yow, is the onlie maist acceptable almouss allowit before god; and to gif ane penny, or ane peice of bread anis in the oulk, is aneuch for us. evin swa ye have perswaded thame to bigge to yow great hospitalis, and manteyne yow thairin be thair purs, quhilk onlie perteinis now to us be all law, as biggit and dottat to the pure, of whois number ye are not, nor can be repute, nether be the law of god, nor yit be na uther law proceiding of nature, reasoun, or civile policie. quhairfore seing our number is sa greate, sa indigent, and sa heavilie oppressit be your false meanis, that nane takes care of oure miserie; and that it is better for us to provyde thir our impotent members, quhilk god hes gevin us, to oppone to yow in plaine contraversie, than to see yow heirefter (as ye have done afoir) steill fra us our lodgeings, and our selfis, in the meintyme, to perreis and die for want of the same. we have thocht gude thairfoir, or we enter with yow in conflict, to warne yow, in the name of the grit god, be this publick wryting, aflixt on your yettis quhair ye now dwell, that ye remove furthe of our said hospitalis, betuix this and the feist of whitsunday next, sua that we the onelie lawfull proprietaris thairof may enter thairto, and efterward injoye thai commodities of the kyrk, quhilke ye have heirunto wranguslie halden fra us. certifying yow, gif ye failye, we will at the said terme, in haile number, (with the helpe of god, and assistance of his sanctis in eirthe, of quhais reddie supporte we dout not,) enter and tak possessioun of our said patrimony, and eject yow utterlie furthe of the same. "_lat him thairfor that befoir hes stollen, steill na mair; but rather lat him wyrk wyth his handes, that he may be helpefull to the pure._ "fra the haill cities, townis, and villages of scotland, the fyrst day of januare ." [ ] the monastery of the observantine order of franciscan or grey friars of perth, is said to have been founded in the year , by the lord oliphant.--(app. to keith's bishops, p. .) this was sir lawrence oliphant of aberdalgy, created lord oliphant, before . according to dempster, the founder was hieronymus lyndesay, doctor of laws, and brother to the earl of crawfurd.--(see. also hay's scotia sacra, ms. p. .) it was situated near the walls, on the south side of the city of perth; and after the destruction of the building, the ground was converted into a public burial place. [ ] the monastery of the dominican or black friars of perth, was situated near the walls, on the north side of the town, and was founded by alexander the second, in the year . in this building the scotish monarchs usually resided when at perth; and meetings of parliament were sometimes held within the church, as well as several of the provincial councils. it was here where james the first met with his tragical fate, th february - . [ ] adam forman, last prior of the charter-house, along with the rest of his brethren, retired to errol, of which church they were patrons, carrying with them, no doubt, as much of the treasures they possessed as they were able to appropriate. he afterwards granted a feu to his relation, john forman, of some lands belonging to the monastery. in , george hay of nethirlyff was created commendator, and the lands erected into a lordship; but eventually, in , he resigned his title, and the name of lord and prior of the charter-house of perth became extinct. [ ] in ms. g, "the blak and gray freiris;" vautr. edit. has "theeves." [ ] bishop lesley, in describing the ruthless manner in which "the multitude of the people and craftismen" proceeded in demolishing the altars, images, &c., in the parish kirk of perth, says, they then "passed strait way to the abbay of the charter house, and pullit the hoill place downe, alsweill the kirk thairof as uther housses, places, and all the coastlie bigginnis quhilkis was maid be king james the first, fundatour thairof, quhilk _was the farest abbay and best biggit of any within the realme of scotlande_; and cuttit downe the hoill growing trees and all uther policies."--(history, p. .) the destruction seems to have been very complete. but the prior and his brethren were allowed to retire in safety: see note . [ ] the charter-house, or, as it was called, "monasterium vallis virtutis," at perth, was a splendid edifice, founded and richly endowed by king james the first, in the year . it was the only religious establishment of any extent in scotland of the order of carthusians, or white friars. holinshed says it "was not as yet throughly finished" at the time of that monarch's barbarous murder, in - ; but he was buried there with great solemnity. james the second, in the general council held at perth, th may , granted a charter of several lands in perthshire to the prior and convent of the carthusian monastery of the _valley of virtue_, near perth.--(reg. magni sigilli: acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) a century later, in november , margaret, the mother of james the fifth, having died at methven, in the vicinity of perth, was also "buried in the charterhouse church of saint johns towne, by [beside] the tombe of king james the first. the king himself and many nobles of the realme were present at the funeralles, which were kept in most solemne and pompous maner."--(holinshed's chronicles, scotland, p. ; chronicle of perth, p. . edinb. .) [ ] james duke of chattelherault. [ ] gawin hamilton, the fourth son of james hamilton of raploch, was born about the year , and educated at st. andrews. his name occurs as a determinant of st. leonard's college in , and a licentiate in . his connexions early secured for him promotion in the church; and in , he sat as dean of the metropolitan church of glasgow, and as vicar-general during the vacancy in that see. as already mentioned, (page ,) hamilton, in the year , exchanged the deanery of glasgow for the abbacy of kilwinning. in - , he was sent in embassy to the king of france.--(treas. accounts.) in anderson's house of hamilton, p. ; keith's catal. of bishops, p. ; and in brunton and haig's senators, p. , his subsequent history is somewhat fully detailed. [ ] matthew hamilton of mylburne has already been noticed, at page , as the son of john hamilton of mylburne, who had been sent to france in . he was succeeded by his brother robert, who had a charter under the great seal, "roberto hamilton, fratri quondam mathei hamilton de milburne, terrarum de livingstone, in vic. de linlithgow," dated th june . [ ] vautr. edit. omits six words, and reads, "two chiefe enemies to the duke." [ ] monsieur d'oysel, who had been resident ambassador in scotland from the king of france, in , till his return in , (see page ,) was again sent in that capacity in .--(lesley's hist. pp. , .) he continued from that time, as formerly, to be one of the queen dowager's principal counsellors in all her affairs. in , he is called "lord dosell, lieutenant of the king of france," (crim. trials, vol. i. p. * ;) and under this title he will be noticed in a subsequent page. but here i may add, that doysel must have returned to france when the french troops left scotland, in , as, in the following year, he was a third time about to proceed to this country, "to haif remanit in the castle of dunbar and fort of inchekeith, to the cuming of the quenes hienes, (queen mary, from france,) and than to haif randerit these strenthis at hir command. notwithstanding, (bishop lesley continues,) whosone he come to london, the queen of ingland wald not suffer him to pas farder, but causit him returne agane in france, for that she affermit that he and monsieur rubie was the principall aucthoris of all the trubles quhilkis was in scotland, betuix the quene regent and the nobilitie thairof, and that it was to be fearit he wald do the lyke in tyme cuming, gif he war permittit to pas in thair cuntrey."--(history, p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "kirkmen." [ ] in ms. g, "particularitie." [ ] craigie, a parish of that name in ayrshire. [ ] in the ms. "decryed." [ ] in ms. g, "a piece of ground." [ ] patrick lord ruthven held the provostship of perth during the year , (his father, william lord ruthven, having been provost in and ,) and he was annually re-elected, without intermission, until the year of his death, . [ ] vautr. edit. has "comfort them;" and ms. g, "comfort his." [ ] patrick master of lindesay, afterwards sixth lord lindesay of byres; walter lundy of lundy; and sir andrew murray of balvaird. [ ] for, "understood." [ ] in ms. g, "balwaird;" in vautr. edit. "balwarde."--sir andrew murray of balvaird succeeded his father, sir david murray, who died in december . [ ] in ms. g, "flattering hir grace, ar servandis of," &c., "or else inflame." [ ] robert third lord semple, who succeeded his father in . [ ] robert forman, at this time, was lyon-king at arms. [ ] sunday the th may. keith (p. ) takes notice, that if the proclamation was "done on a sunday, it must have been on the th." in his other reference to the days of the week, during may and june , knox has fallen into a similar discrepancy. [ ] these ayrshire gentlemen were matthew campbell, sheriff of ayr; john wallace of craigie; george campbell of cesnock; hugh wallace of carnell; john lockhart of barr; and james chalmer of gadgirth. [ ] the water of goodie flows from the lake of monteath in strathern, and falls into the forth, about nine miles above stirling. the teith is a beautiful stream connected with some of the perthshire lakes, (lochs katrine, achray, &c.,) and loses its name, at its junction with the forth, thirteen miles from callander. [ ] in ms. g, "was of good compt, fyve and twentie hundreth men," &c. [ ] auchterarder, a village, in the parish of that name, in perthshire, about fourteen miles from perth, on the road to stirling. [ ] john erskine of dun. [ ] john ogilvy of inverquharity, in the parish of kirriemuir, forfarshire. [ ] he is afterwards mentioned as one of the sons of sir william scott of balwearie. [ ] in vautr. edit. "nocht" is omitted. [ ] in the ms. "dimisshed." [ ] see note , p. . [ ] in the ms. "swaid the argument." [ ] in vautr. edit. "and that, that hole powers." [ ] in the ms. "number." [ ] or terinzean: in vautr. edit. "teringland."--at page , he is called young sheriff of ayr. he succeeded his father, sir hugh campbell of loudoun, in . [ ] this was no doubt patrick murray of tibbermuir, in perthshire, who became cautioner for william harlaw, and was amerciated for his non-appearance to underly the law, &c., on the th may . [ ] in vautr. edit. "dizardes;" in ms. g, "dycearis," that is, players at cards and dice. [ ] the queen regent, upon the tumults in perth, and the destruction of the religious houses there, in may , may have intended to supersede patrick lord ruthven, as provost of perth; but it does not appear that either thomas charteris, or his son john charteris of kinfauns, ever held the office during the reign of queen mary. [ ] sir william murray of tullibardin, ancestor of the atholl family. he died in . [ ] james halyburton, as formerly noticed, was provost of dundee. [ ] vautr. edit. reads, "in anguish." [ ] in ms. g, "the fourt." [ ] in ms. g, "mynding the sonday, quhilk was the thrid, to preiche in sanct androis." sunday was the th of june. [ ] vautr. edit. makes this "colledges." [ ] robert colville of cleish was a natural son of sir james colville of easter wemyss. he had a charter of the barony of cleish, th july . he was forfeited by parliament, th december ; but his forfeiture was rescinded, th december . he was killed at the siege of leith, th may , and was succeeded by his son robert colville, the ancestor of the lord colvilles of ochiltree. [ ] in ms. g, "quhen god of his mercie offereth." [ ] in ms. g, "at these wordis, quhilk he spak;" in vautr. edit. "at these wordes, the lordes." [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit. "that was then." [ ] ms. g, has "the comonalty of the town;" but the edit. omits the words, "of the town." [ ] the earl of argyle, and lord james stewart. [ ] in ms. g, "curriors were send before, and lugeingis war assignit." in vautr. edit. "lodgings were assigned, and furriers were," &c. [ ] the persons here named, were john cockburn of ormiston, john sandilands of calder, william lauder of halton, robert logan of restalrig, and george brown of colstoun. [ ] to the west of the town of cupar; but now all under tillage or planting. [ ] in ms. g, "yit we to have standin in saiftie." [ ] ms. g omits "with the ordinance." [ ] patrick hepburn of wauchton. [ ] the mss. and printed copies give the name of this place variously, as gartabank, gartabanks, garlebank, garlie bank, &c.--this place, of which no other mention occurs in scotish history, may be called a hill-farm, situated about a mile to the south of cupar of fife, and the highest ground in the parish. "the hostile camps, (says the author of the stat. account of that parish, in ,) were only separated by the river eden.... the principal men in both armies repaired to the highest eminence of the garlie bank, a spot known by the name of the _howlet_, or _owl hill_, and which commanded a full view of the whole plain, wherein the troops were now drawn up in order of battle, and there adjusted and signed that truce," &c. (vol. xvii. p. .) [ ] this memorandum, "the uther subscriptioun," &c., evidently shows that knox's amanuensis must have had the original paper before him; although it is possible he has failed in giving a minutely accurate fac-simile. in vautr. edit. the above words are retained; but instead of any fac-simile, the name is printed "_meneits_." mss. a, e, and w, follow vautrollier's edit. in copying this unmeaning name, "meneits;" ms. i, makes it "menetis." in ms. l , only the first half of the paper is transcribed. in ms. g, a different reading appears, the names being given, without any explanation, "james ducke. l.l. ennen j." the above assurance, which is only known to have been preserved by knox, has been often reprinted. calderwood, for instance, (hist. vol. i. p. ,) includes it, and evidently upon conjecture he gives the signatures as "james duke. l. lieutenant etc." i have tried the sagacity of many skilful persons of the present day, to decipher the fac-simile; and i think the only plausible interpretation is, that since it must necessarily have been d'oysel's signature, it may be the initials of his name, joined with his title as _locum tenens_, or lieutenant of henry the second, king of france, for this explanation i am indebted to john riddell, esq., advocate; accompanied with notices of a contract, dated edinburgh, march , between george lord seyton and some of his connexions, which begins, "we marie be the grace of god quene dowerar, and regent of scotland, being riplie and at lenth advisit wyth our deir cousingis and counsalaris lord henry clewtyne, lord vile pareise, doysel and sanct augnen, lieutenant general to the kingis majestie of france, in thir partis of scotland; monsieur ruber, keipar of the grete seill of scotlande," &c. further, in anselme's "histoire genealogique," &c., vol. iv. p. , among the peers of france, in the account of gaspard de schomberg, we find that his wife was "jeanne chasteigneir," whom he married th july . she survived till the d year of her age, in , and is described as d'oysel's widow: "veuve d' henry clutin, seigneur de villeparisis, d'oysel et de s. aignan au maine, vice roy en escoce; depuis ambassadeur pour le roy charles ix. a rome, et fille de jean chasteignier iii. du nom, seigneur de le rocheposay," &c. [ ] in ms. g, the words "what shuld be done," are omitted. [ ] in ms. g, "contentment." [ ] william (graham) th earl of menteith, succeeded his father, john, th earl, who was killed in a scuffle with the tutor of appin, in october . he married, while under age, the daughter of sir james douglas of drumlanrig, relict of edward lord crichton of sanquhar. he survived till . [ ] sir colin campbell of glenurchy: see note . [ ] john charteris of kinfauns, near perth: see notes , . [ ] sir john bannatyne, or bellenden, eldest son of thomas bellenden of auchinoul, whom he succeeded as lord justice clerk, th june . at this time he was employed by the queen regent to negotiate between her and the lords of the congregation; whom he afterwards joined. [ ] in ms. g., "assistance." [ ] in vautr. edit. "four" omitted. [ ] patrick hepburn, whom knox introduces in an earlier part of his history, as prior of st. andrews (see page ,) was advanced to the see of moray in ; and at the same time he held the abbacy of scone in perpetual _commendam_. in all his assedations or leases of lands, as keith makes mention, the bishop of moray, until his death, th june , employed his additional title of "monasterii de scone commendatarius perpetuus." various charters, showing his alienation of the church lands, will be seen in the "registrum episcopatus moraviensis," printed for the bannatyne club, bu the duke of sutherland. edinb. , to. [ ] ms. g, has, "in the abbay of scone." this monastery of canon-regulars of st. augustine, situated about a mile above perth, was founded by king alexander the first, in the year . it was long used as a royal residence; and the famous stone, or chair of coronation, having been brought to scone at a remote period, it continued for several centuries to be the place where our kings were accustomed to be crowned. [ ] in ms. g, "lay in the said abbay, quhilk was within." [ ] ms. g, omits "sir" before the name of adam brown. this title indicates his having been in priest's orders. [ ] in ms. g, "the brute heirof." [ ] in the ms. "alarmezand." [ ] knox in this place not only disclaims any share in the destruction of the abbey; but he expressly states he exerted himself for its preservation. according to "the chronicle of perth," the burning of scone, took place "on tuysday efter midsomer day, the th of junij zeiris;" and the same authority says, "the reformation of the charter house and freiris beside perth," was on the th of may , (pp. , . edinb. , to.) [ ] in ms. g, "messingers." vautr. edit. has "message." [ ] in ms. g, "in armour." vautr. edit. has "in armes." [ ] in vautr. edit. "of our religion." [ ] "estates" omitted in the orig. ms., and supplied from vautr. edit. it is "statis" in ms. g. [ ] vautr. edit. reads, "have violently intermitted withtaken, and yet withholdes the irones of our counsell house:" see subsequent note. [ ] in ms. g, "numbers of lions (alias called hardheids) prented;" that is, a particular kind of coin struck. some explanation will be given in a subsequent note of the coins here mentioned, which were in ordinary circulation. [ ] irons, or instruments made use of in coining money. [ ] john wishart of pittaro, and william cunningham of cunninghamhead, in the parish of dreghorn, ayrshire. respecting the latter, it may be mentioned, that he sat in the parliament, august ; and that his name occurs in the proceedings of the general assembly, june , and august .--(booke of the universall kirk, vol. i. pp. , , .) [ ] in the ms. "bonds." [ ] in ms. g, "dutifull;" in vautr. edit. "dutiefull." [ ] sir john bellenden of anchinoul, justice-clerk: see note . [ ] in ms. g, "the kirk." vautr. edit. has "the church there." [ ] in ms. g, "it was thought expedient and necessarie." vautr. edit. is the same as the text, but omits "to thame," before the word "pertaining." [ ] a reference to the history of france will explain knox's allusion to the treacherous conduct of henry the second, in the arrestment and execution of two of his councillors who had avowed their attachment to the protestant faith. the death of the french king, which followed almost immediately after, was occasioned in a tournament held in honour of the marriage of his daughter with the king of spain. in jousting with the count de montgomery, a splinter of his lance inflicted a deep wound over the king's left eye, and after lingering for twelve days, he expired on the th july . his son the dauphin, and husband of mary queen of scots, was only sixteen years of age when he succeeded to the throne, under the name of francis the second. [ ] mr. robert richardson, according to one of the most accurate of our antiquarian genealogists, "was descended of a stock of ancient and opulent burgesses of edinburgh, where they had long remained in reputation and respect;" and he being "a person of great wealth and credit, was upon the fame of his integrity preferred to the treasurer's place by the queen regent, on the death of the earl of cussilis, anno , and made also general of the mint. when mr.richardson came first to the office, he designs himself _burgense de edinburgh_; but soon after that, having got the commendatory of st. mary isle, which was a cell of holyroodhouse abbay, from that he henceforth took his title."--(crawfurd's officers of state, p. .) richardson's name occurs as one of the auditors of the treasurer's accounts, , ; and as connected with the mint, in - . as clerk of the treasury, he rendered the accounts of the late gilbert earl of cassillis on the th march - , that nobleman having died in france, on the th november , (register of conf. testaments, feb. , ,) and not on the th of that month, as stated at page . richardson continued to officiate in the room of the high treasurer, until his own appointment to the office th march - . he also held more than one lucrative ecclesiastical situation. on the th february - , a charter under the great seal, of the lands of nether gogar, in the county of edinburgh, was granted to mr. robert richardson, _vicar of exfurde_. on the last of march - , he obtained a gift of the priory of st. mary's isle of trail, near kirkcudbright (reg. secr. sig.): this dignity entitled him to sit as a lord and member of parliament. at a later date, (in ,) we find him styled archdeacon of teviotdale. he died in : and william lord ruthven, on the th june , was appointed high treasurer, the office being vacant by the death of the commendator of st. mary's isle. sir john scott says, that richardson had "conquest a great estate." this is very evident, from the various charters he had of lands in the counties of edinburgh and east lothian; and his estates were apportioned to his two sons, sir james richardson of smeaton, and sir robert richardson of pencaitland, baronet: see crawfurd, _ut supra_, and scott's staggering state, p. . [ ] a _bawbee_, the vulgar name for a halfpenny. in the reign of queen mary, it was equivalent to three pennies scotish money, but was afterwards raised to six pennies. the particular coins so designated, were billon or copper, and are described in lindsay's "coinage of scotland," p. . cork, , to. [ ] robert logan of restalrig, in the vicinity of edinburgh, and parish of south leith. this ancient family possessed considerable influence, from their connexion with leith, of which they held the superiority; as will be more fully detailed in a subsequent note. [ ] in ms. g, "and yit, notwithstanding." [ ] this name is probably a corruption of craig-end gate. the calton hill was then known as the north craigs, and the street called the low calton, the road leading from edinburgh to leith, was also known by that name; although the easter road would better suit the localities, as elsewhere described.--(wodrow miscellany, vol. i. pp. - .) [ ] better known as sir alexander erskine of gogar, fourth son of john fourth lord erskine. he was born about the year ; and was captain of the castle of edinburgh, under his brother lord erskine, earl of mar, who became regent of scotland. after the regent's death, in , he had the charge of stirling castle, and the custody of james the sixth. in , he was constable of edinburgh castle; and died sometime between and . his eldest surviving son was created earl of kelly, in . [ ] in vautr. edit. "passed." [ ] lord james stewart, as already noticed, was son of james the fifth, by lady margaret erskine, daughter of john fourth lord erskine: see page , note . he was thus sister's son of the governor of the castle of edinburgh, who maintained at this time a strict neutrality between the queen regent's party and the reformers. "there is something very gallant, (says sir walter scott,) in the conduct of this nobleman, who, during such a period, was determined to refuse admittance either to french or english, the two powerful allies of the contending factions."--(sadler's papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] ms. g reads, "the uther nobillmen that war with us." [ ] he was no doubt the same person who appears at page , as the earl marischal's "counsaillour," in ; but it may be doubted whether it was not his son who was killed at the seige of leith, in may . general drummond, afterwards lord strathallan, in his "genealogie of the house of drummond," refers to the former passage in knox, as an incident in the life of henry drummond of riccarton, the second son of sir john drummond of innerpeffrey. having married janet creichton, who was heiress of the property of riccarton, (in the parish of linlithgow,) he became the founder of the family of drummond of riccarton. lord strathallan says, "he was a valiant gentleman, and of good breeding, and served the french king henrie the second, as capitane of his archer-guard," (p. . edinb. , to.) in the appendix to that volume, the editor says, "this 'counsaillour' was certainly no great clerk, as among the balcarras letters and papers in the advocates library, is an original receipt, in french, for crowns, (cinq cens cscuz,) which is thus signed, 'hary dr[=o]mond, wy^t my hand at the pen, led be my lord marschallis servand, maister jhone elder.' it has no date, but was probably about the year ." (ib. p. .)--on the th july , the treasurer paid s. to a boy "passand to dumblane to hairie drummond with ane clois writting of the quenis grace, with deligence." [ ] bishop lesley has given the articles of this pacification in a different form from knox: see keith's history, (vol. i. p. ,) whose remarks, however, apply to the latin history, _de rebus gestis_, &c., p. . romæ, , to. in the corresponding passage of his english history, lesley has given the erroneous date d july; and says the appointment took place "be mediatione and labouris of the erle of huntlie, quha travelled ernistlie for stanching of bluidshed that day."--(hist. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "and in ane uther forme disposed, as efter followis." [ ] the office of the mint, of which richardson was then general. see subsequent note. [ ] in ms. g, "hir palace." [ ] in vautr. edit. "garrisons." [ ] the quarrel or quarry holes, afterwards called the "upper quarries," towards the east declivity of the calton hill, at the head of the easter road to leith, opposite maryfield. [ ] in ms. g, "and haill protestantis." [ ] in ms. g, "murmuirs." vautr. edit. also has "murmures." [ ] queen elizabeth ascended the throne of england th november . at the beginning of book third, knox has entered more into detail respecting the application which was made by the protestants of scotland for aid at this time. [ ] james third earl of arran was the eldest son of the duke of chatetherault. about the year , he went to france, and obtained the command of the scotish guard, at the court of henry the second. in , he fell into so much disgrace, on account of his expressing himself to the duke of guise in favour of the reformed doctrines, that, as stated in the next note, his life was in danger. having made his escape from paris, he came to geneva, and returning by the north of germany to england, he was received with much distinction by queen elizabeth. he arrived in scotland, on the th september , (sadler's state papers, vol. i. p. ,) and openly joined the reformers. [ ] lord david hamilton was the third son of the duke of chatelherault. he had a charter of lands in fife, granted to him st august . he was in france, along with his eldest brother the earl of arran, in , as mentioned in the previous note. secretary cecil, in a letter dated th july , as quoted by mr. tytler, says, "what may the duke's grace there (in france) look for, when his eldest son was so persecuted, as, to save his life, he was forced to flee france and go to geneva, not without great difficulty; his second brother, the lord david, now cruelly imprisoned by monsieur chevigny, one chosen out to show cruelty to your nation; divers scots of the earl's (arran's) family put to torture; and, finally, all the duchy of chastelherault seised to the crown."--(hist. vol. vi. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "the other cast in vile prison." [ ] the sieur de béthencourt arrived from france about the end of july . a letter of recommendation from mary queen of scots, addressed to the duke of chatelherault, dated at paris ( th) july, is contained in prince a. labanoff's collection of "lettres de marie stuart," vol. i. p. . he was sent to this country, in the view to ascertain and use all means that were necessary, for restoring matters to the good estate in which they had previously been. after thanking the duke for his good offices rendered to the queen regent her mother, in circumstances of great difficulty, her words are,--"s'estant pour ceste cause delibéré y mectre la main et chercher tous moïens pour réduire les choses au bon estat ou elles estoient, il a advisé dépescher par dela le sieur de béthencourt, présent porteur, par lequel j'ay bien voullu vous faire entendre le contentement quo j'ay du service quo vous vous este essayé m'y faire, et prier, mon cousin, emploïer tous moïens pour faire rabiller les faultes doulcement et oster l'occasion de faire par autre voye sentir aux mauvais combien ils ont offencé le roy, mondit seigneur, et moy: estant asseurée que jamais vous ne sçaurez faire chose qui me soit plus agréable."--(lettres, &c., vol. i. p. .)--among various payments by the treasurer, after the queen regent's death, (in june ,) to her attendants and other persons, we find, "item, to monsieur buttonecourt and his wife, lxxx lib." [ ] in ms. g, "plesour;" in vautr. edit. "displeasure." [ ] in ms. g, "duetifullie," vautr. edit. has "dewly amendid." [ ] in this marginal note, vautr. edit. has "brages inough." [ ] in ms. g, "that yow and all they that hes done, and dois as ye do, sall." [ ] these words may be rendered, "you will feel the point of it for ever." the letter referred to is not contained in prince a. labanoff's collection of queen mary's letters; but an english copy of it is preserved in spotiswood's history, p. , and will be inserted in the appendix to the present volume. [ ] in ms. g, "be certaine effectis." [ ] in ms. g, "dewtiefull;" vautr. edit. "duteifull obedience." [ ] in ms. g, "towards us your." [ ] "mot" is omitted both in ms. g. and vautr. edit. [ ] the inhabitants or congregation of edinburgh, met in the tolbooth or council house, on the th july , and publickly elected knox as their minister.--(historie of the estate of scotland, in wodrow miscellany, p. .) "with this choice, (dr. m'crie remarks,) which was approved by his brethren, knox judged it his duty to comply, and immediately began his labours in the city." he was soon afterwards obliged to leave edinburgh, but john willock, who became his colleague, supplied his place, and in the month of august dispensed the sacrament in st. giles's church.--(ib. p. .) [ ] in ms. g. and vautr. edit. "began." [ ] the tolbooth or council house must not be confounded with the old tollbooth or jail, which was described in as ruinous, and ordered to be demolished. it was, however, repaired, and has been immortalized as "the heart of mid-lothian." in chambers's "reekiana," a number of curious and interesting notices are collected regarding this building, which was situated at the west-end of st. giles's church, and encroached so much on that part of the high street, called the luckenbooths, as to leave only a kind of lane to the north, of feet wide. further to the south, and connected with the south-west corner of st. giles's church, with a covered passage to the parliament square, there was a large mass of buildings, which included what was known as the new tolbooth or council house, the goldsmith's hall, &c. all these were pulled down when the signet library was built, and the ornamented exterior of the parliament house, (begun in , and completed in ,) was so unfortunately sacrificed. the old tolbooth or jail was demolished in ; and the changes which took place in and around the parliament square at that time, completely altered the singularly picturesque character of the old town of edinburgh. [ ] here, and in other places, vautr. edit. has "church." [ ] in vautr. edit. the word "kirk" or "church" is omitted. [ ] the abbey of cambuskenneth was founded by king david the first, in the year . this house, of the order of canon-regulars of st. augustine, although connected with stirling, is in the parish of logie, and shire of clackmannan. it was situated on the north side of the river forth, about one mile n.e. from the town of stirling. during the wars with england, it was often plundered, but in , it was nearly all demolished; and there now remains little besides a square tower of fine proportions, to indicate its site.--see sir j.g. dalyell's "brief analysis of the chartularies of the abbey of cambuskenneth, chapel royal of stirling," &c. edinb. . vo. [ ] in vautr. edit. "lyndors."--the abbey of lindores, in the parish of newburgh, fife, was, like most of our monastic buildings, finely situated, overlooking the fertile shores of the tay. it was founded by david earl of huntingdon, brother to king william the lion, upon his return from the holy land, about the year . it was erected into a temporal lordship by king james the sixth, th december , in favour of sir patrick lesley of pitcairly, son of andrew fifth earl of rothes, who had held the abbacy _in commendam_, since .--john abbot of lindores who is here mentioned, must have been a person of some importance; yet his name has not been discovered, although he sat in parliament in and subsequent years, and he appears in the sederunt of the lords of session, in november . some further particulars respecting him will be given in a subsequent note. [ ] ms. g, "sould not be." [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit., "procurement was the preiching stooll." [ ] alexander whitelaw of new grange, had been a pensioner in england so early as the time of edward the sixth, for which the earl of huntly caused him to be forfeited, th july . see before, note . at a later period, he became an active and confidential agent of knox and the reformed party; and his name frequently occurs in their correspondence in sir ralph sadler's state papers. knox speaks of whitelaw as a man who had often hazarded himself, and all he had, for the cause of god. throgmorton calls him "a very honest, sober, and godly man, and the most truly affectionate to england of any scotsman." accordingly, he gave him a letter of recommendation to elizabeth's council, and, as he was very religious, he counsels them to let him see _as little sin in england_ as possible.--(note by sir walter scott, in sadler's papers, vol. i. pp. , .) in the account of the collector of the thirds of benefices, , two bolls of wheat are deducted--or "defalkit for the teindis of the newgrange of aberbrothock, be reasone the same was nocht lauborit the zeir compted, be occasion of the pley dependand thairupon, betuix alexander quhytlaw and william stewart." three bolls of bear, and eight bolls of meal, were deducted for the same cause. [ ] william knox, a younger brother of the reformer, was then a merchant. in september , the english council, out of respect to his brother, granted a patent "to william knox, a merchant, giving him liberty, for a limited time, to trade to any port of england, in a vessel of one hundred tons burden."--(strype's memorials, vol. ii. p. .) and knox himself, in a letter written in , says, "my brother, william knox, is presentlie with me. what ye wold haif frome scotland, let me know this monunday at nycht; for hie must depart on tyisday."--(m'crie's life of knox, vol. i. pp. , .) he afterwards became a preacher, and was for many years minister of cockpen in mid-lothian.--(ms. books of assignation of stipends; wodrow miscellany, vol. i. pp. , .) [ ] in ms. g, "in four pieces." [ ] in the ms. "wald nott weir." [ ] in ms. g, this marginal note, and that on the next page, are taken into the text. [ ] in the ms. the date is left blank, "the &c. day." vautr. edit. and ms. g, read, "the th day of august." [ ] in ms. g, "we can skairslie beleve." [ ] in ms. g, "was maid against, or without our advyse." in vautr. edit. "was made by." [ ] in ms. g, "in na cais." [ ] monsieur de la brosse, and the bishop of amiens, arrived in scotland on the th september . sir ralph sadler, on the th, says, "the bishop arrived in leith three days previously, with three vessels, and men." on the th he writes, "la brosse, and the bishop of amyens, are arrived at leyth, with so gret company, besyds ther housholde men, as far as we can lerne. and the bishop, as they say, cometh to curse, and also to dispute with the protestants, and to reconcile them, if it wolbe," &c.--(sadler's letters, vol. i. p. .) "jacques de la brosse, knycht," had been one of the french ambassadors, who were present at the parliament, th december , for treating of a renewal of the amity between the two kingdoms.--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. .) when again sent to this country, in september , on the accession of francis the second to the throne of france, bishop lesley calls him "monsieur de la broche."--(history, p. .) the bishop of amiens was nicholas de pellevé, who was afterwards archbishop of sens, and elected cardinal. he came in the character of legate _a latere_ from the pope, and was accompanied by three doctors of the sorbonne, whom spotiswood calls dr. furmer, dr. brochet, and dr. ferretier.--(hist. p. .) [ ] in vautr. edit. "ammiance." [ ] in ms. g, "the arryval of franchemen and ma." vautr. edit. corresponds with the text. [ ] this marginal note is taken into the text in ms. g. [ ] in ms. g, this marginal note ends, "witness how this was kept;" but vautr. edit. is the same with the text. the letters here referred to as having been sent to france, are not contained in any printed collection. [ ] in the orig. ms. and in vautr. edit. "proclamation." [ ] in ms. g, "inriche." [ ] in ms. g, "our liberties," and "our laws." [ ] in ms. g, "as obedient." [ ] in ms. g, "and seing ye have presently." vautr. edit. has, "and seeing you have presently." [ ] a genealogical account of the ancient family of the scots of balweary, in fife, is inserted in douglas's baronage, pp. - . from this we learn, that there were five persons of the same name, in regular succession, at the end of the th, and during the th century. sir william scott, who was taken prisoner at floddon, was nominated the first of the lords of session on the temporal side, at the institution of the college of justice in may ; but he died very soon after; as thomas scott of petgormo, his second son, was appointed his successor, th november that year. this thomas scott was justice-clerk, whose death, in , knox has recorded: see page . another thomas scott of petgormo, probably a younger son of his brother sir william, had a charter of the lands of petgormo, confirmed d march . i have some old deeds, between the years of and , in some of which he is styled of abbotshall, in others, of petgormo. [ ] see note . [ ] in the ms. "laid;" vautr. edit. has "laied money;" ms. g, "layit mony." in september , the treasurer delivered to an english miner, "aucht unce of siluer, to mak ane assay of siluer and _layit_ mony." in , it is called "allayed" (alloyed) money. [ ] during the minority of queen mary, great quantities of base money had been struck, or brought from france and flanders, and obtaining circulation, had the effect of raising the prices of provisions and other necessaries in this country. many enactments were made in regard to the currency at this time, apparently without much effect; at length, in the year , all such money was called in by public proclamation, to prevent the further circulation of false, counterfeit, and clipped money. the particular kinds here named, were _hard-heads_, or lions, a small coin with the royal cypher crowned, on one side, and a lion _rampant_ on the other. the _non sunts_, so called in acts of parliament, had the arms of francis and mary, mostly bearing the date . this name was given them from the legend, on the obverse, iam. non. svnt. dvo. sed. vna. caro. the comparative value of these coins is determined by an act of parliament, december , by which "all non sunts were proclamit to d., bawbies to d., plakis to d., and hard-heidis to half-penyis; and the penneis to stand as thai ar."--(acta parl. scot. vol. ii. p. ; lindsay's coinage of scotland, p. .) [ ] see page . [ ] in ms. g, "thair clippit and rongit sollis." vautr. edit. has "clippit and rounged souses." that is, clipped or _ronged sols_ or _sous_, (a kind of small french money well known,) worn away, or reduced in size by a file: the _sou_ being equivalent to _centimes_, and _sous_ to a _franc_. [ ] in ms. g, "derthning of all victuillis;" vautr. edit. has "vivaris." [ ] in ms. g, "and how are they cum?" [ ] in ms. g, "townes;" in vautr. edit. "roomes." [ ] in the other copies "garrisouns." [ ] in ms. g, "see to it;" in vautr. edit. as above. [ ] in ms. g, "realme;" in vautr. edit. "roomes." [ ] in ms. g, "further." [ ] "quhen thy neighbours house is on fire, take tent to thy awn."--("scottish proverbs: gathered together by david fergusson, sometime minister at dunfermline," &c. edinburgh, , to.) [ ] in ms. g, "guysianis;" in vautr. edit. "guisians." [ ] in ms. g, "gevin to princes." [ ] in ms. g, "becaus this accusatioun is layd against;" vautr. edit. has, "because this occasion is layd against." [ ] this marginal note occurs both in ms. g, and in vautr. edit.; but ms. g, makes it, "let sick as this day live, witness if god hes wrocht since the writting of this."--the precise time when this note was written is doubtful, as several leaves of the original ms., (folios to ,) corresponding with pages to of the present edition, seem to have been rewritten, after , but before knox's death, in , and in all probability in the hand of his secretary, richard bannatyne. in this portion of the ms. the colour of the ink, &c., resembles the latter part of book fourth; but it exhibits a peculiar orthography, and is transcribed with much less accuracy than usual. [ ] in ms. g, "haldis;" in vautr. edit. "had." [ ] in the ms. "subjit." [ ] in ms. g, this marginal note reads, "the hame cuming of the erie of arran out of france." [ ] in the ms. "discryve;" vautr. edit. and ms. g, have "discover." [ ] in vautr. edit. "the xxix day." [ ] robert carnegy of kynnaird, in fife, was the son of john carnegy, who was killed at floddon. on the th july , he was nominated a lord of session.--(senators of the college of justice, p. .) he was sent to england in , to treat for the ransom of the earl of huntley, lord chancellor, who had been taken prisoner at the battle of pinkie. in and , carnegy filled the office of "clerk of our soueraine ladyis thesaurar," for which he had a yearly pension of £ , s. d.--(treasurer's accounts.) in february - , the treasurer paid "to robert carnegy, for his expensis passand to france and england, in our soueraine ladyis and my lord governouris service, quhen he remanit the space of xv weekis, in iiij^c crounis of the sone, v^c lib." (£ .)--he was frequently employed in public negotiations; and had the honour of knighthood conferred on him for his services. [ ] mr. david borthwick of lochill, advocate, will be afterwards noticed. in , he became lord advocate, and one of the judges in the court of session. [ ] in ms. g, "cut-throattis." [ ] the charge of the royal family became a kind of hereditary employment for the erskines of mar. john, fourth lord erskine, had the keeping of james the fifth in his youth; and was appointed governor of stirling castle. in may , he had a charter constituting him and his heirs captain and constable of the castle of stirling. he was likewise one of two noblemen to whom the charge of queen mary, in her infancy, was entrusted. he was afterwards made keeper of edinburgh castle, and died in . he was succeeded by his third son, john fifth lord erskine, (as already noticed at page ,) both in his title and heritable offices. when the duke of chatelherault resigned the regency to the queen dowager, the castle of edinburgh was put in the hands of lord erskine. in , as governor of this important fortress, he maintained a strict neutrality between the two contending parties, as knox mentions at the beginning of book third of his history. and james the sixth, while yet an infant, was entrusted to his care. [ ] in ms. g, "within it." [ ] in vautr. edit. "your eyis of." [ ] in vautr. edit. "the day." [ ] in the other mss. "men." [ ] sir john bellenden of auchinoul, who, for thirty years, from , was justice-clerk, appears to have been twice married. the above reference is to his first wife; and from a charter dated th may , we learn that her name was barbara kennedy. she was thus the daughter of sir hugh kennedy of girvan-mains, by lady janet stewart, eldest daughter of john second earl of atholl, who was killed at floddon in . this lady was four times married: first, to alexander master of sutherland, who died in ; then, in , to sir hugh kennedy; next, in , to henry lord methven, who was killed at pinkie in . her fourth husband was patrick lord ruthven; and in a charter, granted in the prospect of this marriage in , she is styled lady methven. she was lord ruthven's second wife, and probably survived him. sir john bellenden's second wife, according to a charter, th july , was janet seyton. she survived him, as we learn from his confirmed testament: he having died on the th october .--(register of conf. test., &c., vol. vi. th august .) [ ] he was the son of john spens of condie, in the county of perth, and was born about the year . he was educated at st. andrews, and became a determinant, in st. salvator's college, in . in , he was one of nine advocates selected by the court of session, to procure before them in all actions. he was joined with henry lauder as advocate to our soueraine lady, in , and had the salary of £ ; and on lauder's death in , he became his successor, and at the same time was raised to the bench. he joined the reformers, and is frequently noticed in the proceedings of the general assembly. [ ] in ms. g, "that the quenis grace favour." [ ] in vautr edit. "craftie flatterer:" in ms. g, this marginal note is omitted. [ ] in ms. g, and vautr. edit. "poore." [ ] in ms. g, the name is written in full, "james stewart;" in vautr. edit. it is contracted as above, "j. st." [ ] this word, omitted in the ms., is supplied from vautr. edit. [ ] in the orig. ms. "as." [ ] in vautr. edit. and ms. g, "than the pretended." [ ] in ms. g, "mony uther thingis." [ ] in ms. g, "and the quein regent in this cais." vautr. edit. has, "in this cause." [ ] vautr. edit. has here in the margin, "nota." [ ] this feeling of jealousy between the towns of edinburgh and leith, originating in narrow-minded policy, was of an old standing. the harbour and mills of lieth, then known as inverleith, were granted by robert the first, in the year , to the community of edinburgh; and in , they acquired other rights and privileges by purchase from logan of restalrig, who possessed the banks of the river. during the th and following century, the magistrates of edinburgh passed some acts of a very oppressive and illiberal kind, against the inhabitants of leith. in , during the english invasion, the town and harbour were completely destroyed; but the queen regent, in favour of the inhabitants, purchased anew the superiority in , from robert logan of restalrig, for £ scotish money; it was strongly fortified in ; and was taken possession of by the french auxiliary troops, on behalf of the queen regent, who proposed to have erected the town into a royal burgh. her death, in june , defeated this project; and the citizens of edinburgh afterwards obtained the superiority from mary queen of scots, for the sum of , marks. [ ] in the ms. "had" is omitted; in ms. g, it is "hes or had;" in vautr. edit. "hath or had." [ ] the logans of restalrig were an ancient family of great influence, from their possessions at leith and restalrig. the factious person to whom knox alludes was robert logan, who was arrested by order of the magistrates of edinburgh, and committed to prison, th september . [ ] in ms. g, "lawfull heirs and borne counsallers." vautr. edit. omits "heirs," or "heidis," and reads, "the lawfull and borne counsellers." [ ] in vautr. edit. on the margin, "nota." [ ] not inserted in ms. g. [ ] see note . [ ] in the orig. ms. it is, apparently, "neir us:" ms. g. has "micht most noy us;" vautr. edit. reads, "might most annoy us." [ ] in ms. g, "the caus of the taking of brochtie craig." [ ] in ms. g. and vautr. edit. "dutifull." [ ] in ms. g, "forced with the frenchmen, and reullit with be the counsaill of france;" vautr. edit. has, "forced with the strength, and ruled by the counsell of france." [ ] this alludes to the emphatic phrase in the absolution sent from rome, to cardinal beaton's murderers, _remittimus irremissibile_; but which was rejected by the parties who were concerned as not being the "sufficient assured absolution," which had been promised should be obtained for them: see page . [ ] george fifth lord seaton, was elected provost of edinburgh at michaelmas , by command of the queen regent; and he conducted the affairs of the city in such an arbitrary manner, that in april he committed one of the bailies and the town-clerk to prison. on another occasion he threatened all the bailies with a similar imprisonment, if, during his absence, they failed in securing certain persons whom he named.--(maitland's hist. of edinburgh, p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "the lord seytounis unworthie regiment:" and it omits the three following marginal notes. [ ] in ms. g, "to steir;" vautr. edit., as above, has, "to saile a schippe." [ ] in the orig. ms. "baith we and sche." [ ] in ms. g, "debtfull;" in vautr. edit. "dutifull." [ ] in vautr. edit. "forged." [ ] mr. robert lockhart has already been mentioned by knox, (page ,) among the laymen who undertook the office of exhorters. he appears to have been gained over to her views by the queen regent; and the treasurer's accounts exhibit the following payments made to him by her special command. on the th january - , "be the quenis grace precept to master robert lockhart, xxx lib." "item, the xxiij day of februar, be the quenis grace precept to maister robert lockhart, xl lib." [ ] in ms. g, "unto hir grace the quein regent, may be understude." [ ] supplied from ms. g. [ ] in ms. g, these words are thus transposed,--"i culd not be proven enemie, bot rather an unfayned freind to your grace." vautr. edit. follows the text, except "proved" for "proven." [ ] in the year , at geneva: see note , page . [ ] in ms. g, "your graces hairt." vautr. edit. has, "your hearte." [ ] robert lockhart, see page . [ ] supplied from ms. g. [ ] in ms. g, "of this cuntrey." vautr. edit. has, "realme." [ ] vautr. edit. omits this marginal note; but it occurs in ms. g. [ ] in ms. g, "seikes or sutes ony pre-eminence, eyther to." vautr. edit. makes it, "sues nor seekes anie pre-heminence." [ ] "maister robert foirman," in , was ross herald; and in that capacity, on the th may , he was "direct fra the counsale, with certain articulis to be schawand to the king of france; and frathin to the empriour," the treasurer on that day having paid "to hym, to be his expenses in his jornay, £ ."--on the death of the celebrated poet, sir david lyndesay of the mount, forman, in , became his successor as lyon king-at-arms. [ ] keith has copied from knox the "credeit" or commission from the queen regent; but in the appendix to his history he says, "i make little doubt he (knox) has curtailed the same, and formed it so as to serve his own purpose: and had this credit been contained in as few words as this author relates it, the regent might have easily inserted the whole of it in her letter, without any unbecoming prolixity. i do, therefore, recommend to my readers not to satisfy themselves with this account of the credit, but to look into _that_ which archbishop spottiswood narrates; which, as it is much more distinct in answering to each part of complaint from the congregationers, so it has all the air of ingenuity, and seems fully to answer the character of that wise and worthy princess." he then proceeds to quote from spottiswood's ms. some remarks, differing from the corresponding passage in the printed history; but these are too long to be here quoted: see keith, hist. vol. i. pp. , - . [ ] in ms. g, "of the kirk of edinburgh, being commanded." vautr. edit. is the same as the text. [ ] in ms. g, "was thair protest." vautr. edit. has, "process." [ ] in ms. g, "in sygne of manifest oppresioun." vautr. edit., as in the text, omits the words "sygne of." [ ] in ms. g, "commonaltie." [ ] in ms. g, "and to performance of thir hir wicked nterprises." vautr. edit. reads, "to performe these her wicked interprises." [ ] the stranger referred to, was monsieur de ruby, who has already been noticed: see pages , . secretary cecil, in a letter to sir ralph sadler, from london, th november , says, "at this present monsieur ruby is here, and hath spoken with the quenes majestye this daye. his errand, i thynke, be to goe into fraunce, and, by the waye here, to expostulate upon certain greeffs in that quenes name. he telleth many tales, and wold very fayne have the queenes majestye beleve that he sayth truth." some of these "tales" are specified--such as, that the scotts report they have had £ in ayde from england, &c. it is afterwards added, "ruby departeth to-morrow."--(sadler's state papers, vol. i. p. .) [ ] this marginal note, in ms. g, reads, "hir dauchter followis the same, for to davie was the greitt seill gevin."--in the list of officers of state, appended to scott's staggering state, (see note, page ,) riccio is said to have succeeded mons. de ruby; but the public records furnish no evidence to show that david riccio ever was intrusted with the great seal. his highest promotion was private secretary to the queen and darnley; as will more particularly be noticed in the next volume, towards the conclusion of the history. [ ] the words enclosed within brackets, occur both in ms. g. and vautr. edit.; but neither copy has any signatures. keith, in his remarks on this act of deposition of the queen regent, says, "and for this reason, (the few persons present at framing it,) perhaps, they thought fit not to sign the act man by man, but to wrap it up after this general manner, viz., _by us the nobility_," &c.--(hist. vol. i. p. .) this evidently is a mistake, as the act itself concludes with the express statement, "subscrivit _with our handis_," &c.--in the ms. of , a blank space of half a page at the end of the above act, has been left for the purpose of inserting the signatures, we may suppose, in a kind of fac-simile. keith previously mentions, that the councillors who signed the letter to the queen, on the d october, were twenty-nine in number, viz., the duke of chatelherault; _earls_, arran, eglinton, argyll, rothes, morton, glencairn, marischal, sutherland; _lords_, erskine, ruthven, home, athens (alexander gordon, afterwards bishop of galloway,) the prior of st. andrews (lord james stewart,) livingston, master of maxwell, boyd, ochiltree; _barons_, tullibardine, glenorchy, lindsay, dun, lauriston, cunningham, calder, pittarrow; _provosts_ of edinburgh, st. andrews, dundee. but see the note to the letter itself, in the following page . [ ] in ms. g, "your doingis." vautr. edit. has, "proceedings." [ ] in ms. g, "for our regent." vautr. edit. has, "anie." [ ] the town of leith. [ ] in ms. g, "placed." vautr. edit. has, "planted." [ ] in ms. g, "accustomed." [ ] in vautr. edit. "the day;" and this date is followed in all the copies, excepting ms. g. [ ] in the british museum (mss. cotton. calig., b. x., f. .) there is a contemporary transcript of this letter, which contains the signatures, or rather the names of the persons who signed it, as follows: "your grace's humble serviteurs, the council, having the authority unto the next parliament, erected by common election of the earls, lords, and barons, convened at edinburgh, of the protestant faction. (_earls._) my lord duke's grace and earl of arran. the e. of argile. the e. of glencairn. (_lords._) james of st. andrews. the lord ruthven. the master of maxwell. (_barons._) tullibardine. the laird of dun. the laird of pittarrow. the provost of aberdeen, for the burrows." [ ] in ms. g, "the ane and the other." vautr. edit. has, "either the one or the other." some other trivial differences in this summonds occur in ms. g. [ ] in the ms. of , "scalles." [ ] in ms. g, "at that." [ ] in may , we find him styled, "maister james balfoure, officiall of sanctandrois, within the archedenerie of lowthiane."--(criminal trials, vol. i. p. .) [ ] in ms. g, "quhilk we thocht." [ ] sir william murray of tullibardine. [ ] john hart was connected with the mint in some subordinate capacity. his name does not occur among the officers of the mint, in the treasurer's accounts, at this time; but it occurs in a proclamation, dated th march , respecting the false and adulterated coins (placks and hard-heads) which were ordered to be brought to the mint.--(lindsay's coinage of scotland, pp. , .) [ ] the cunyie house, or scotish mint, was near the foot of gray's close, entering from the cowgate, and formed a kind of small court or square. but these buildings bear the date of having been erected in . the mint had previously been moved from one place to another, such as edinburgh castle, holyrood house, dalkeith, &c. thus we find in the treasurer's accounts, february - , is the following payment:--"item, allowit to the comptar, be payment maid be johne achesoun, maister cwnzeour, to maister william m'dowgale, maister of werk, for expensis maid be him vpon the bigging of the cwnze-house, within the castell of edinburgh, and beting of the cwnze-house within the palace of halierudhouse, fra the xi day of februar zeris, to the of april , &c., £ , s. d." [ ] in the view of affording aid to the lords of the congregation, a commission was granted to the earl of northumberland, sir ralph sadler, and sir james crofts. the ostensible object was the settlement of some border disputes, which were arranged on the d september; but by remaining at berwick, they were able, with greater facility and secrecy, to hold communication with the protestant party in scotland, without apparently infringing the treaty of peace which had previously been concluded. sadler's private instructions to this effect are dated th august , and he was empowered to treat with any persons he thought advisable, and to distribute, with all due discretion and secrecy, money to the extent of £ .--(sadler's state papers, vol. i. pp. xxix. .) the arrival of the french troops in aid of the queen regent, led to a more direct and ostensible assistance on the part of england, in sending auxiliary forces to support the scotish reformers. [ ] in ms. g, "beset;" in vautr. edit. "foreset." [ ] john cockburn of ormistoun has already been noticed, in the notes to pages , , , &c. in october , he received at berwick, from sir ralph sadler and sir james crofts, £ sterling, in french crowns, for the present relief of the lords of the congregation; and also crowns (or £ , s. d.) which was given to him for his own use. but the earl of bothwell, and some of the french troops, being informed of this booty, waylaid him near dunpendar-law, in east lothian, on the last of october, and robbed him of this treasure, wounding him severely.--(wodrow miscellany, vol. i. p. .) on the th november, sadler and crofts wrote to secretary cecil, with the information of the "mishap" which "hath chaunced to the saide ormestoun, to our no little grief and displeasure."--(state papers, vol. i. pp. , , , .) cockburn is introduced among the "scotish worthies," in a work written in verse, by alexander garden of aberdeen, before the year , but which seems never to have been printed, and the ms. unfortunately cannot now be traced. garden calls him "ane honourable and religious gentleman, very dilligent and zealous in the work of reformation:" "for perrels, promises, expense nor pains, from thy firm faith no not a grain weight gains." and, in reference to bothwell's attack, he says,-- "thy blood-shed sooth'd and taught this time, i know, when curtfoot bothwell like a limmer lay, (a traytor try'd, yea, and a tirrant too,) and unawarrs did wound thee on the way." (ms. hist. of the family of cockburn of ormistoun, circa .) [ ] james hepburn, earl of bothwell, succeeded his father, patrick third earl, in september : see page . at this time he was in secret correspondence with the reformers, and had professed attachment to their cause; but being gained over by the queen dowager, this spoliation of cockburn of ormistoun displayed the insincerity of his character. the earl of arran and lord james stewart proceeded with men "to revenge the said injury, thinking to find the earl bothwell in creichtoun; but a little before their coming to the said place, he was depairted," &c.--(wodrow miscellany, vol. i. p. .) [ ] crichton castle, now in ruins, was formerly a place of considerable strength, with an interior quadrangle. at this time it belonged to the earl of bothwell. it is situated in the parish of that name, in the east part of mid-lothian, about eleven miles from edinburgh. [ ] the name is left blank in all the mss. [ ] in vautr. edit. "the first departing of." [ ] in vautr. edit. "bannantine;" in ms. g, "bellenden." sir john bellenden has frequently been mentioned: see pages , . [ ] mr. gawyn hamilton: in ms. g. is added, "abbote of kilwynning:" see note . [ ] vautr. edit. makes this, "of their infants losse." it is the french phrase, "les enfans perdus d'une armée," the forlorn hope of an army. [ ] lord robert stewart was the natural son of james the fifth, by euphemia elphinstone. he had a grant of the abbacy of holyrood in , while yet an infant; alexander myln, commendator of cambuskenneth, being administrator. he joined the reformers, and approved of the confession of faith in . in , he exchanged his abbacy with adam bothwell, bishop of orkney, for the temporalities of that bishoprick. his lands in orkney and zetland were erected into an earldom in his favour, th october . [ ] in ms. g, "the capitain of the castell." vautr. edit. is the same as the text, in omitting these words. [ ] in ms. g. and vautr. edit. "victorious souldiours," or "soldiers." [ ] in the ms. of , "pause." [ ] or, "i think you have bought it without money." [ ] sir john maxwell, who afterwards, in his wife's right, as co-heiress, assumed the title of lord herries. see note . [ ] knox has here mistaken the particular days: wednesday was the first, and monday the sixth of november. [ ] the persons here named were ker of cessfurd, and ker of pharnihurst. [ ] monday was the sixth of november: see above, note . [ ] in ms. g, "for keiping;" in vautr. edit. "keeping." [ ] in ms. g. and vautr. edit. "corner." [ ] in ms. g, "neir." [ ] the village of restalrig is situated about half a mile to the north-east of holyrood house. it was formerly a place of some importance, and contained a collegiate church, founded by king james the second, with a dean, nine prebendaries, and two singing-boys. a portion of this church has been restored, and fitted up as a place of worship in connexion with the parish church of south leith. the _myre_ was no doubt that low marshy ground, formerly covered with water, which extended to the precincts, or "the park-dyke," of the palace and abbey of holyrood. in a lease of the park of holyroodhouse, to "john huntar, burgess of the cannogait," a special charge is included "for uphalding and repairing of our said park dyke, and casteing and redding of the fowseis about the medowis," &c.; and also for "the keping of the said park, the abbotis medow, _and groundless myre_ within the same." th march - .--(register of signatures, vol. i.) sadler and crofts, in a letter written about the th of november , (vol. i. p. ,) have given an account of this skirmish, fought at restalrig on the previous day, on which occasion the protestant party, commanded by the earl of arran and lord james stewart, were surrounded in the marshy ground, and their retreat to edinburgh only accomplished with a loss of thirty men slain, and forty taken prisoners. [ ] in vautr. edit. "parke dich." [ ] ms. g. omits "awin;" in vautr. edit. it is, "owne." [ ] captain alexander halyburton, at page , is mentioned by knox as the brother of james halyburton, provost of dundee, with whom he is by some modern writers confounded. he had previously been in the queen's service, as in august , he received £ , for his pension of the whitsunday term.--(treasurer's accounts.) bishop lesley, in his account of this skirmish, which he places about the end of september, says, that the french troops were "not content to be sieged within the toun" of leith; "at last, thay come fordwarte with their hoill forces, purposing to invayde the toune of edinburgh; bot the scottis men come furth of the toun, albeit out of ordour, and encontered the frenche men apoun the croftis besyde the abbay of holieruidhous, betuix leithe and edinburgh; quhair the scottis men war put to flyte, and capitane alexander halieburton with mony utheris was slayne, and the frenche men persewit the chase evin to the poirtis of edinburgh, and had maid gret slauchter, war not thair was twa gret cannonis schot furth of the castell at the frenche army, quhilk stayed thame frome forder persuit; so they retered agane to leithe."--(history, p. .) [ ] this sentence in ms. g. reads, "and thus with dolour of many, he ended his dolour within two hours efter the defate, and enter, we doubt not, in that blissit immortality, quhilk abydes all that beleve in christ jesus trewly." all the later mss. correspond verbatim with vautrollier's edit., which is the same with the text above, except the latter words, "within two hours after _our departure_." [ ] the persons here mentioned as having been taken prisoners, were probably david monypenny of pitmilly, or his son david; andrew fernie of fernie, in the parish of monimail, the property having afterwards come by marriage into the family of arnot; james stewart, master of buchan, second son of john third earl of buchan, (his elder brother john having been killed at pinkie in ); and george lovell, a burgess of dundee. on the th november , george lovell, burgess of dundee, and margaret rollok, his wife, had a charter under the great seal, of certain acres of land in the lordship of dudhope, forfarshire. on the previous month, he obtained a letter of legitimation for his bastard son alexander. in may , lovell was fined £ , by the justice depute, as security for paul methven, in consequence of his non-appearance at trial. [ ] in the ms. of , a blank space is left here, and at the end of the next sentence, as if for the purpose of adding some farther details, which may explain the apparent want of connexion. [ ] in ms. g, "schote." vautr. edit. has "hurte." [ ] all-hallow even, the last day of october, being the eve of hallowmas, of all-saints. [ ] william maitland, the eldest son of sir richard maitland of lethington, became secretary to queen mary, in . [ ] in the orig. ms. "ceased." [ ] ms. g. adds, "his sister-son." vautr. edit. omits these additional words. [ ] in ms. g, "have stude;" in vautr. edit. "wold have stood." [ ] wednesday was the th of november. [ ] in the ms. of , "this." [ ] verse , supplied from ms. g, is omitted in the ms. of , and in vautr. edit. [ ] in ms. g, "forefathers;" in vautr. edit. "auncient fathers." [ ] in the ms. of , "duik" is often written "duck." [ ] in ms. g, "it be not so." [ ] vautr. edit. makes it, "passed to comishall." [ ] see sadler's letters and state papers, vol. i. pp. - , for the instructions and other matters connected with the mission of william maitland of lethington to london at this time. [ ] in ms. g, "the end of the secund buik:" vautr. edit. has "endeth," &c. [ ] the words in italics are usually those in the text, quoted for greater facility in shewing the connexion.--in buchanan's editions there are numerous marginal notes. many of these are literally copied from vautrollier's suppressed edition; and of those which the editor has added, only such as might be mistaken as knox's, are here taken notice of. [ ] "the godly zeal of m. hamelton towardes his countrey." [ ] "articles out of the registers."--(marginal note.) [ ] "his articles otherwise more truely collected."--(marginal note.) [ ] "condemned by councelles and uniuersities, but here is no mention of the scripture."--(marginal note.) [ ] "note here that these articles agree not wyth the articles in the register before mentioned." [ ] "wolues in lambes skinnes." [ ] "m. patricke geuen to the secular power." [ ] "if ye coulde shew to what place of the scripture, we would gladly heare you." [ ] "the vniuersitie of s. andrewes was founded about the yeare of our lord , in the reigne of kyng james the first, who brought into scotland, out of other countreyes, . doctors of diuinitie, and . doctours of decrees, wyth diuers other. hect. boet. lib. . cap. ." (marginal note.) [ ] "he meaneth fysher b. of rochester, who wrote agaynst oecolampadius and luther, and at length was beheaded for treason." (marginal note.) [ ] mr. john sinclair, dean of restalrig, who became bishop of brechin. see supra, p. . [ ] evidently the same person named terrye, in the previous account of wallace. see page . pitscottie calls him sir hugh curry. * * * * * transcriber's note: . footnotes are numerous and many are lengthy. they are placed at the end of the book to make the text easier to read. . sidenotes are marked as sn: and, where possible, are placed at the beginning of the paragraph to which they pertain. where there are multiple sidenotes in a paragraph, they are embedded in the paragraph as close as possible to that to which they refer. . there are numerous asterisks in the text, three of which (pp. , and ) refer to sidenotes on those pages. other asterisks will be seen in footnote references to outside sources. . superscripts are represented by ^. . there are multiple instances of different spellings for the same word. those have been retained. obvious typos have been corrected. . quote (") marks have been retained as in the original. . footnote numbers cited as internal references have been changed from the original to conform to the footnote numbers in this document; and, where necessary, comments have been altered to reflect the format of this document without changing the intent. . instances of accented letters have been changed as follows: a. pp. and - macron represented as wh[=e] b. p. macron represented as ætat[=e] c. p. macron represented as am[=o]gst d. pp. and macron represented as n[=o]ber e. p. macron represented as beat[=o] f. p. macron represented as cal[=e] g. p. macron represented as chan[=o] h. p. macron represented as co[=u]try i. p. macron represented as cond[=e]nation j. p. macron represented as c[=o]spiracy k. p. macron represented as dr[=o]mond l. p. xiii macron represented as joh[=a]nes m. p. macron represented as l[=o]ger n. p. xli macron represented as m[=a] o. p. macron represented as spr[=o]ge count ulrich of lindburg, by w.h.g. kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ the story begins in the early years of the sixteenth century. a monk, martin luther, has read the bible and has realised that the teachings of the roman church are much in error. gradually his teachings percolate through the land. count ulrich, and also his son eric, are very interested in this, though ulrich's wife and daughter remain under the spell of their priest, nicholas. eric sets off for the city where luther is teaching, accompanied by a personal guard called hans. on the way they meet with a youngster who is being bullied, and they take him into their charge. later they meet with some soldiers serving a baron who is an enemy of eric's father, and are taken to the baron's castle, where they are imprisoned. after a few days they are sent for by the baron's wife. it turns out that the boy they had rescued on their journey had dodged off when they were bing captured, and had made his way to where martin luther could be found. knowing that the baron's wife was interested in luther's teachings he got message to her to ask her to intervene in the matter of eric and hans. this is successful, and the two men continue their journey. on arriving at the university town where luther is teaching they hasten to his lectures, and are re-united with the boy they had earlier rescued, who had been waiting and watching out for them. the story continues from this point, and does make a very good read. ________________________________________________________________________ count ulrich of lindburg, by w.h.g. kingston. chapter one. on the banks of the river saal, in merseburg, forming part of saxony, at the time of which we speak, governed by the aged and excellent elector frederick, stood the castle of lindburg. it was one of those feudal piles of the middle ages, impregnable to the engines of ancient warfare, but which were destined to crumble before the iron shots with which cannon assailed them, as the system they represented was compelled to succumb to the light of that truth which the gospel was then diffusing over the greater part of europe. ulrich, count von lindburg, or the knight of lindburg, as he was often called, sat in a room in his castle, with his arm resting on a table and a book before him, at which, however, his eyes seldom glanced; his looks were thoughtful and full of care. he had engaged in much hard fighting in his younger days, and now all he wished for was rest and quiet, though the state of the times gave him but little hope of enjoying them. in his own mind, too, he was troubled about many things. four years before the time at which he is introduced to the reader, he had visited worms, during the time the diet, summoned by the emperor charles the fifth, was sitting, and was among those who found their way into the great hall where the emperor and the chief princes, bishops, and nobles of the land were sitting, when dr martin luther, replied to the chancellor of treves, the orator of the diet, who demanded whether he would retract the opinions put forth in numerous books he had published and sermons he had preached. "since your most serene majesty and your high mightinesses require from me a clear, simple, and precise answer, i will give you one, and it is this: i cannot submit my fate either to the pope or to the councils, because it is clear as the day that they have frequently erred and contradicted each other. unless, therefore, i am convinced by the testimony of scripture or by the clearest reasoning, unless i am persuaded by means of the passages i have quoted, and unless they thus render my conscience bound by the word of god, _i cannot and will not retract_, for it is unsafe for a christian to speak against his conscience." and then, looking round on that assembly before which he stood, and which held his life in its hands, he said, "here i stand, i can do no other. may god help me! amen!" the assembly were thunderstruck. many of the princes found it difficult to conceal their admiration; even the emperor exclaimed, "this monk speaks with an intrepid heart and unshaken courage." truly he did. this is the weakness of god, which is stronger than man. god had brought together these kings and these prelates publicly to confound their wisdom. these bold words had had also a deep effect on the knight of lindburg, and he kept meditating on them as he rode homeward towards the north. could it, then, be possible that the lowly monk--the peasant's son--should be right, and all those great persons, who wished to condemn him, wrong? was that faith, in which he himself had been brought up, not the true one? was there a purer and a better? he must consult father nicholas keller, his confessor, and hear what he had to say on the subject. the knight carried out his intention. father nicholas was puzzled; scarcely knew what answer to make. it was a dreadful thing to differ with the church--to rebel against the pope. dr martin was a learned man, but he opined that he was following too closely in the steps of john huss, and the knight, his patron, knew that they led to the stake. he had no wish that any one under his spiritual charge should go there. as to the scriptures, he had read but very small portions of them, and he could not tell how far dr martin's opinions were formed from them. the knight was not satisfied. he asked father nicholas to explain what was the church, and if it was not founded on the scriptures, on what was it founded? father nicholas replied that it was founded on peter, and that the popes were peter's successors, and that therefore the church was founded on the pope. the knight remarked that from what he had heard of peter he must have been a very different sort of person to leo the tenth, and he asked what we knew about peter, and indeed the other apostles, except through the scriptures? father nicholas, shaking his head at so preposterous a question, replied, "through tradition." the knight asked, "what is tradition?" father nicholas hesitated--coughed--hemmed--and then said, "my son, tradition--is tradition! and now let us change the subject, it is becoming dangerous." the knight was not yet satisfied, and he determined to look more particularly into the matter. when, therefore, his son eric came home, and expressed a strong desire to migrate to wittemburg, that he might pursue his studies under the learned professors of that university, drs. martin luther, melancthon, jerome schurff, jonas armsdorff, augustin schurff, and others, he made no objection. dame margaret, his wife, however, and father nicholas, loudly protested against eric's going among such a nest of heretics. "he will be perverted," they exclaimed; "he will share the fate of huss." "i have promised him that he shall have his will, and perhaps he will be able to come back and tell us the meaning of tradition," answered the knight, with a peculiar look at father nicholas. "there are, besides, two or three other things about which i want him to gain information for me." dame margaret knew from experience that when the knight, who was an old soldier and wont to rule in his own house, said a thing, he meant it. she therefore held her peace, and it was finally arranged that eric should forthwith set off for wittemburg. dame margaret was a very well-meaning woman. she could not prevent her son from going to the heretical university, but she hoped by her admonitions and warnings that she might prevent him from imbibing the dangerous principles which she understood were taught there. she consulted father nicholas on the subject; indeed she never failed to consult him on all subjects, temporal as well as spiritual, connected with her family, so that the father had a good deal of influence in the household. he did not give her any great hopes of success. "with all respect be it spoken of a son of yours, eric has ever been obstinate and dull-headed, and turned a deaf ear to all my ghostly counsels and exhortations. very like his father, the knight, i regret to say," he observed; "however, there can be no harm in warning him. tell him all i have told you about that heresiarch, dr martin, and if he believes what you say, you may thus have the happiness of counteracting the effects of the evil and abominable instructions he will receive." this was a bright idea. father nicholas had been accustomed to say a good many hard things of dr luther and his friends. the plan must succeed. while, like a good mother as she really wished to be, dame margaret was preparing eric's shirts and hosen, a new cloak, and other things for his journey, she sent for her son that she might talk to him. she was alone; eric kissed her hand affectionately, as he entered, and stood respectfully before her-- "you are going away for a long period from your father and me, and from our esteemed father nicholas, and you will be exposed to countless perils and dangers, my son," she began. "you have a desire to go among those people, holding new-fangled doctrines, for the sake of the novelty and excitement; that is but natural, so i scarcely blame you; but beware, my son, this dr martin himself is, i hear, a wild, unstable character, a roisterer and wine-bibber, who desires to overthrow our holy father, the pope, for the sake of ruling, by his wicked incantations and devices, in his stead." "others speak very differently of him, my mother," answered eric, humbly; "but i shall know more about him when i have been to wittemburg and heard what he and his friends have to say for themselves." "alas, it may be too late when you once get into his toils," sighed dame margaret. "they say that he has a compact with the evil one, and he it is who gives him the wonderful power he possesses over men's minds and makes them oppose our father, the pope, and our holy mother church." "i have not heard that dr martin luther has been guilty of any deeds such as those in which the evil one especially takes delight, and we must judge of people by the works they perform," answered eric, in the gentle tone which his affectionate respect for his mother induced him to employ. "i know that dr martin is a learned man; he desires to introduce learning and a pure literature into our fatherland, and he is moreover an earnest seeker after the truth, and has sincerely at heart the eternal interests of his fellow-men. he is bold and brave because he believes his cause to be righteous and favoured by god. that is the account i have heard of him; i shall know whether it is the true one when i get to wittemburg." "they say that he preaches that the convents should be thrown open, and the priests allowed to marry, because he himself wants to take a wife. they say that the motives for all he does are very evident," continued dame margaret, not listening to her son's remark. "i should have thought that had he been plotting from the first to oppose the power of the pope for the sake of marrying he would have taken a wife long ago. there has been nothing to hinder him. certainly not many `pfaffen' would have been so scrupulous. he himself has remained single, and is a man, several of my friends who know him assure me, singularly abstemious; often he goes a whole day or more without food, and his usual meals are of the simplest kind. it is true that when he mixes with his fellow-men his heart expands and he does not refuse the wine cup or the generous food placed before him. his is no churlish spirit to turn away from the good things kind heaven has provided for man. god sends us trials, but he intends us to enjoy what he has in his loving mercy given us in this world, and never throws temptations to sin in our way, as some foolish teachers would make us believe. but as to dr martin's mode of life, i shall be able to tell you more about it when i have been to wittemburg." dame margaret sighed deeply, she had not yet quite said her say, that is, what father nicholas had told her to say. "my son," she continued, "i am informed that evil people are saying many wrong things against our holy father, the pope; that he has no business to call himself head of the christian church; that he is an extravagant, worldly man; that many predecessors have been as bad as bad could be. indeed i cannot repeat all the dreadful things said of him." "but suppose, dear mother, that all the things said of him are true; suppose that saint peter never was at rome, that he did not found a church there, and was never bishop of rome; that designing men, for their own ambitious ends, have assumed that he was, and pretended to be his successors, and finally, finding the success of their first fraud, have claimed the right of ruling over the whole christian world. but, however, when i go to wittemburg i shall better know the truth of these things, and if they are calumnies, learn how to refute them." "oh! my son! my son! how can you even venture to utter such dreadful heresies?" shrieked dame margaret, even before eric had finished speaking; then, hearing his last words, she added, "of course they are calumnies; of course you will refute them, and you will come back here, after you have completed your studies, and be the brave opponent of this dr martin and all his schismatic crew. but, my son, one of my chief objects in sending for you was to bestow on you a most invaluable relic, which will prove a sure and certain charm against all the dangers, more especially the spiritual ones, by which you may be surrounded. neither dr martin nor even the spirit of evil himself will be able to prevail against you if you firmly trust to it, father nicholas assures me; for it contains not only a bit of the true cross, but a part of one of saint peter's fishing-hooks, and a portion of the thumb-nail of saint james. let me put it round your neck, my son, and thus armed i shall, with confidence, see you go forth to combat with the world, the flesh and the devil." dame margaret spoke seriously; she was merely giving expression to the common belief in relics entertained, not only by ignorant peasants but by the highest nobility and the great mass of the population, a belief encouraged by the priests, who thus secured a sure market for their own manufactures. the excellent elector frederick, who became one of the great champions of the reformation, had a short time before employed several dignitaries of the church to collect relics for him, and had purchased a considerable number for very large sums. in the war between france and spain, every spanish soldier who was killed or taken prisoner was found to have a relic round his neck with a certificate from the priest who had sold it, that it would render his body invulnerable to the bullets or swords of the enemy. there is a very considerable sale of such articles, even to the present day, in roman catholic countries. eric was therefore well aware of the value his mother would attach to the one she desired to bestow on him, yet he had already imbibed too large a portion of truth from the writings of dr luther and others, and the portions of scripture he had read, not to look on the imposition with the contempt it deserved; still he was too dutiful a son to treat his mother's offer with disrespect. he thought a minute or more, and then replied slowly-- "i will not take your relic, mother, for i am already provided with a protection which will be sufficient for all the dangers i am likely to encounter. i will say nothing now as to the relic. when i have been to wittemburg i may be able to tell you something more of its actual value." nothing that dame margaret could say would induce him to take the article. on repeating the conversation with her son to father nicholas, she expressed a hope that eric was not possessed of an evil spirit, which had induced him so pertinaciously to refuse the proffered gift. father nicholas bit his lip, frowned, said he could not say, it might possibly be an embryo one, such as had clearly entered into dr martin and many other persons at that time. it would certainly be safe to exorcise him, but the difficulty would be to get so obstinate a young man as eric to submit to the operation. he would think about it, and try and devise some means by which the ceremony might be performed without the patient having the power to resist. this promise afforded a considerable amount of comfort to dame margaret, who had felt very uneasy ever since the idea had seized her, for she could not otherwise account for her son's refusing so inestimable a gift. the last night eric slept at home he had a dream, at least he was not quite certain whether he was awake or dreaming. he opened his eyes and saw a light in the room, and his mother and father nicholas, and his sister laneta, and his father's old henchman, hans bosch, who had often carried him in his arms, when he was a child, and still looked on him in the light of one, standing round his bed. his mother held a basin, and hans a book, and the priest a censer, which he was swinging to and fro, and muttering words, in very doggerel latin, while ever and anon, he sprinkled him with water from the basin. what laneta was about, he could not exactly make out, but he thought that she had a box in her hands, which she held open. had he not been very sleepy and tired he would have jumped up and ascertained whether what he saw was a vision or a reality; but, shutting his eyes, he went off soundly to sleep again, and sometime afterwards, when he awoke, the room was in darkness and he was alone. his mother, the next morning, regarded him with much more contented looks than her countenance had worn for the last day or two. it may as well be here mentioned that eric discovered during his journey the precious relic, which he had declined taking, fastened into the collar of his cloak. he sighed and said to himself-- "then, poor mother, let it be; should i take it out and should any misfortune happen to me she will say it was for want of the relic; if it remains and i receive damage i may the better prove to her the worthlessness of the thing. no wonder the sheep go astray when they have so ignorant a pastor as father nicholas." chapter two. eric, on the morning of his departure from home, had a private leave-taking with his father. the knight, though an old soldier, was a peaceably-disposed man, yet in spite of all he could do he had foes and troubles. a certain baron schenk, of schweinsburg, unjustly claimed rights over a portion of the knight's property. it was clearly impossible for the knight to accede to the count's demands, for had he done so fresh ones would instantly have been made until the count might have claimed possession of lindburg itself. the count had often threatened to come and insist on his claims at the point of the sword, but the knight had reminded him that as two people could play at that game he might find that he gained nothing by the move. still he occasionally received a message which showed him that the count had not forgotten his threats, and this always troubled him, not because he feared his enemy, but because he wished to be quiet and at peace with all his fellow-men. he had a long talk with his son and gave him much good advice. the two understood each other thoroughly. "my son," he said, "you are going forth into the world; and will meet with a great variety of characters. treat your fellow-men with a kindly regard and do them all the good in your power, but put your whole trust in god alone. while you cling to him he will never forsake you--i know that you are honest and single-hearted. do that, and i have no fear for you. take my blessing, eric. write when you can and tell me all about dr martin and his companions. i wish that i were young enough to go to the university with you; i would give much once more to hear that man speak as he did at worms." eric set forth not as a poor scholar, on foot, but as the son of a knight and a noble of the land, on horseback, accompanied by hans bosch, who led a sumpter-horse loaded with his baggage. both were armed, as was necessary in those times, with swords and pistols; the latter being somewhat large and unwieldy weapons. eric, as befitted his station, had learned the use of his sword, and hans was an old soldier who had grasped a pike for nearly half a century. hans and eric had always been good friends. the old soldier was not ignorant of what was going on in the world, but he had not as yet made up his mind which side to choose. he suspected the bias of his master, and that of his mistress was very evident. as yet, however, he clung to the old opinions. eric, though high-spirited and manly, was thoughtful and grave above his years, and hans respected his opinions accordingly. he had before been at the university of erfurth, but the fame of wittemburg had reached him, and, what had still more influence, several of the books written at wittemburg, and he had been seized with a strong desire to migrate thither. hans could not read himself, but he was inquisitive. he plied his young master with questions, to which eric very willingly made replies. "then you put no faith in the pope, nor believe that he is the only rightful ruler of the church?" observed hans in reply to a remark made by his young master. "i have been led to doubt the supremacy he claims from all i have read," answered eric modestly. "more especially do i believe that he is not a descendant of the apostle peter from what i have read in my greek testament. i there find that saint paul, on one occasion, thus wrote of this supposed chief of the apostles: `when peter was at antioch, i withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed,' (galatians two .) peter was also sent especially to preach to the jews and not to the gentiles. paul, when writing from rome, sends no salutations from him, which he would have done had peter been there; indeed he never once mentions his name. the third or fourth christian bishop of rome speaks of saint paul having suffered martyrdom under the emperors; but, by the way he speaks of saint peter, evidently believing that he suffered martyrdom elsewhere in the east, and does not allude to his having been at rome. if, therefore, the very foundations of the pretensions of these august pontiffs are defective, what can we think of the rest of their claims? however, when i have been some time at wittemburg, i hope to know more about the matter." "but, my dear young master, if you upset the foundation of our faith, what else have we to build on? i, for one, as an old soldier who has seen the world, say that we can not go on without religion," exclaimed hans, in a tone which showed the perturbation of his mind. "that is right, hans," answered eric, "but, my old friend, we do not destroy the real foundation of our faith, we only overthrow the false and cunningly-devised superstructure. the foundation of our faith is in the sufficient sacrifice once made for man by jesus christ, the son of god, on the cross, and the complete justification of all who repent and put faith in that sacrifice. that is what dr martin luther teaches. he says that no man should venture to come between the sinner and god; that christ is the only one mediator--the go-between, you understand-- that he is all-loving, and all-merciful, and all-kind, that by any one else interfering he is insulted, and that all indulgences, penances, works, are the devices of the evil one to make man lose sight of the full, free, and perfect redemption which christ has wrought for us." "that sounds like a good doctrine," observed hans, thoughtfully, "the `pfaffen' will not like it, because it will deprive them of their influence and the chief portion of their gains; but how do you know that it is the true one, my young master?" "because it is in the word of god, the bible. and i am very certain that god, who has done so much for us, would not have left us without a clear statement of his will--clear rules for our guidance, and therefore i believe that the bible is the word of god," observed eric. hans rode on in silence. he was meditating on his young master's remarks. they had not gone more than a league or two when some sharp cries reached their ears. they came from some person before them. they rode on, and arrived in sight of a big youth who was belabouring with a thick stick, in the middle of the road, a young boy. the boy had something under his cloak, which the youth was insisting on his keeping concealed. eric's generous feelings were at once excited. he could never bear to see the strong tyrannising over the weak. he rode forward and demanded of the big lad why he was thus ill-treating the little one. the youth did not reply, but looked up sulkily at him. eric turned to the little fellow. "this is the reason, noble sir," answered the boy, "he is my `bacchante,' and i am a poor little `schutz.' we are poor scholars seeking education at the schools. for the protection he affords me he insists that i shall provide him with food. lately his appetite has been very great, and i have not got enough for him, and to-day he insisted on my stealing this goose, and hiding it under my cloak, that if it was discovered i might be punished and he escape." "so, my master, and is this the way you afford your protection?" exclaimed eric, looking angrily at the big bacchante. "what is your name, my little schutz?" he asked of the boy. "thomas platter," was the answer. "i come from switzerland, and have for long been wandering about, finding it hard to live in one place for want of food." "then, thomas platter, know that i am going to wittemburg, where there is a good school; and, if you desire it, you shall remain with me and pursue your studies, and if you ever have to beg for bread, it shall be for yourself alone. are you willing to accept my offer?" "gladly, most noble sir," answered the boy, throwing down the goose and springing out of the way of the big bacchante, who sought to detain him. hans, who once had a little boy who died when he was of the age of thomas platter, approved of his young master's generous offer, and undertook to carry the lad behind him on his horse to wittemburg. the bacchante grumbled and looked very angry at this, and threatened to come after thomas and carry him off; but eric advised him to make no attempt of the sort as the boy was now under his protection. they rode on and left him grumbling and threatening as before. thomas seemed highly pleased at the change. he was evidently a sharp, clever little fellow, though simple-minded and ignorant of the world. he was the son of a poor shepherd, but the desire to gain knowledge induced him to quit his father's cottage and to go forth in search of that education which he could not gain at home. he had met with all sorts of adventures, often very nearly starving, now beaten and ill-used by his bacchante, a big student, from whom he received a doubtful sort of protection, now escaping from him and being taken care of by humane people, wandering from school to school, picking up a very small amount of knowledge, being employed chiefly in singing and begging through the towns to obtain food. such was the type of a travelling student in those days. frequently he had companions, three or four schutzen and twice as many bacchantes, the former performing, in fact, in rough style, the part of fags to the older students. the big bacchante, from whom thomas had escaped, was a relative who had promised to befriend him. it was in the unsatisfactory manner described that he had performed his part. the next day, as eric and his companions approached the town of jena in thuringia, they overtook a solitary horseman. from his appearance he seemed a knight, as he had a long sword by his side, and a red cap on his head, and was habited in hosen and jerkin, with a military cloak over his shoulders, though he was without armour. he exchanged courteous salutations with the young noble, and enquired whither he was going. on hearing that it was wittemburg he seemed well pleased. "yes, i am migrating thither from erfurth, for i desire to study under one whom i consider the great light of the age, dr martin luther," answered eric. "then you have never met dr martin," said the stranger. "not personally, but i know him by his works," answered eric. "that way methinks we may know a man far better than those we may see every day who have written nothing for our instruction. still i desire to go to wittemburg that i may drink at the fountain's head, and listen to the words which fall from the doctor's own lips." "young man," said the stranger, turning a pair of dark, flashing eyes upon eric, "be assured that if you drink at the fountain head--the pure spring from which dr martin is wont to drink, you will do well--that is, the word of god, the holy scriptures. of them you can never drink too much, and yet no fountain can afford so satisfactory a draught. but beware how you imbibe knowledge from other sources; from the traditions of men; from mere human learning. it is the too common want of caution in that respect which leads so many men astray. seek for the enlightenment and guidance of the holy spirit, and give your whole heart and soul to the study of the scriptures. in that way you will most assuredly gain the best of all knowledge." talking in this way, old hans riding up close behind them, to catch the words which fell from the stranger's mouth, they approached the town. before, however, they could reach it, a fearful storm, which had been threatening for some time, burst upon them. they pushed on as fast as their steeds could move, to obtain, as they hoped, shelter in the town, and now eric perceived that the stranger, whom he had supposed to be a knight, was no very great horseman, and more than once he feared, when a vivid flash of lightning made the animal he bestrode spring on one side, that he would be thrown to the ground; still he kept his seat, nor seemed to think of danger, every now and then addressing eric on some subject of deep interest. on entering the town they found every one keeping holiday, for it was shrovetide, and mummery and feasting, and amusements of all sorts were going forward. no one would attend to them, nor could they obtain accommodation of any sort in the town, even where they could dry their damp clothes. at last they were advised to proceed on through the town, where outside the gates, on the other side, they would find an hostelry, the "black boar," at which they would obtain accommodation. they were not misled. the landlord received them courteously, and seemed, by the affectionate greeting he gave their companion, to be well acquainted with him. eric considered that it was too early in the day to stop, and as his and his attendant's horses were fresh, he proposed, after taking some refreshment, to proceed on another stage or two further. during the repast the stranger continued the conversation which had been interrupted by their approach to jena. little thomas platter, who was sitting at the table as well as hans, listened with attentive ear to all that was said. when eric rose to depart, the stranger bade him a cordial farewell. "i too am on my way to wittemburg," he observed, "we may meet there, i hope, ere long, and you will then judge whether the tales that have been told of dr martin are true or false." eric was very much interested in the stranger, and puzzled to know who he could be. "he is a man of learning and a man of consequence," he observed as he rode along. "i would that i possessed one quarter of his learning. how his countenance lights up when he speaks, and how the words flow from his lips. he is a man to move his fellow-creatures by his eloquence, or i mistake his looks and mode of utterance." "what think you, my young sir, if he should prove to be dr martin himself?" said hans. "it more than once occurred to me that such might be the case; but is dr martin likely to be out in these parts, and would he be habited in such a costume as that worn by this stranger?" asked eric. "it was dr martin notwithstanding that," exclaimed the little platter; "you will see, my masters, when we get to wittemburg, you will see." this incident added very much to the interest of the journey. they rode on for some leagues, when, as they were not far off from the place where they purposed resting for the night, they saw a band of horsemen approaching them. it was easy to see by their dress and general appearance that he who rode at their head was their lord, with two companions of inferior rank, and that the rest were his retainers. they had a particular swaggering look which showed that they belonged to a class of persons common in those days, who followed the fortunes of any lawless noble who could employ them, and were ever ready to commit any deed of violence their master might command. eric kept as close to one side of the road as he could to avoid giving cause of offence. they eyed him narrowly as he passed, and especially looked at hans, who wore the livery of his house. "who can those people be?" asked eric. "their looks are far from pleasant, nor did they deign to give us the usual salutation which courtesy demands as they rode by." "alas! i know them well," answered hans. "he who rode at their head is no other than baron schenk of schweinsburg, your father's greatest and, i may say, only enemy. _if_ he guesses who you are, my dear young master, i fear that he will not let us escape unmolested; for he is a man who delights in blood and violence, and were not our castle a strong one, and defended by brave hearts and willing hands, it is my belief that he would long ago have attacked it, and carried off all he could find of value within. my advice, therefore, is that we put spurs to our horses, and place as great a distance as we can as soon as possible between him and ourselves. hold on, little platter, away we go!" "your advice is good, hans," said eric, as he urged on his steed. it was likely to be of little avail, however, for at that instant the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard, and looking round they saw that half-a-dozen of the baron's retainers were spurring after them. this, of course, only made eric and his attendant more anxious than ever to escape. their horses were good ones, and they might still distance their pursuers. "let me drop, kind sir," exclaimed little platter; "i am only delaying you, and it little matters if i fall into the baron's hands; i am not worth killing!" hans laughed, and answered, "you would break your limbs if i let you go, and your weight is but as that of a feather to my old steed schwartz. hold on boy--hold on! we have promised to protect you, and we are not the people to cast you off at the first sign of danger." they galloped on as fast as their steeds could put feet to the ground; but they had already performed a good day's journey, and were somewhat tired. their pursuers' horses, on the contrary, were fresh, it seemed, and when hans looked over his shoulder, he saw at once that they were gaining on them. still he was not a man to give in without an effort. "we'll try it on a little longer, my young master, and then face about and show them the edges of our swords. maybe, like bullies in general, they are cowards, and if we put on a bold front, they will make off." this counsel was too good not to be followed. still the baron's retainers were gaining on them. a wood was on either side. they might dash into it, and make their escape, but that was not then a mode of proceeding to suit eric's taste. "now then we'll do as you suggest, hans," he exclaimed. pulling up their steeds, they turned sharply round and drew their swords. this, however, did not produce the effect they had hoped. they now saw, indeed, that the remainder of the band were coming up. at this moment little platter let himself slip from behind hans to the ground, saying, as he did so, "i can be of no service to you here; but i can, maybe, if i get away." before the horsemen came up he had darted into the wood, where, had they thought it worth while searching, they would have had no little difficulty in finding him. "there is no use fighting, i fear, my young master," said hans, unwillingly sheathing his sword. "we are outnumbered, and it will only be giving our foes an excuse for slaying us should we attempt to resist them." eric, seeing the wisdom of the old soldier's advice, likewise returned his sword into the scabbard. when the baron's retainers came and surrounded them, he demanded, in a firm voice, what they required. "we are to conduct you to our lord. he will question you as he thinks fit," answered one of the men, seizing eric's bridle. another took hold of hans' bridle, and, with a couple of men on either side of them, they were conducted along the road. they had not gone far, when they were met by the baron. "ah, my young sir, you are i understand eric von lindburg; i have at length got a hostage for your father's good behaviour," he exclaimed, exultingly. "you will find pleasant lodging in the castle of schweinsburg, for the next few years or more of your life, if your father does not yield to my demands. i have long been looking for this opportunity, now it has arrived. ha, ha, ha!" eric kept a dignified silence, merely saying, "i am in your power, baron schweinsburg. i cannot choose, but do what you command." this calm reply somewhat annoyed the baron. "ah, we shall find you a tongue ere long, young sir," he observed, with a savage expression, as they rode along. the party went on at a rapid rate till it was nearly dark, when they stopped at an hostelry to refresh themselves, a strong guard being placed in the room into which the prisoners were conducted. the moon then rising, they continued their journey, and at length, perched on a rocky height, the grey walls of the old castle of schweinsburg rose before them. a steep pathway led them up to a bridge thrown across a deep chasm, which almost completely surrounded the building, and had rendered it impregnable to the assaults of foes armed only with the engines of ancient warfare. in the court-yard the baron ordered them to dismount; and four armed men conducted them up a winding staircase to a room at the top of a high tower, from which, unless provided with wings, there seemed but little chance of escaping. in a short time their luggage was brought up to them, followed by a tolerably substantial supper. "the baron does not intend to starve us, at all events," observed old hans. "come, my dear young master, eat and keep up your spirits. matters might have been much worse. perhaps we may ere long find some means of escaping, let the baron guard us ever so carefully. at all events, let us hope for the best." chapter three. at the time our story commenced dr martin luther was still residing in the castle of wartburg, where he had been concealed by order of the elector frederick, for nearly a year after leaving worms, to preserve him from the rage of his defeated enemies. his friends, however, well knew where he was, and he had lately been summoned back to wittemburg, where his presence was much required. several months had passed away since eric had quitted home, when one day a man, with a large pack on his back, presented himself at the castle-gate, and demanded to see the knight. he was admitted. "well, friend, what would you with me?" asked the knight. "i have books to sell, and will show them to you forthwith," answered the colporteur, unslinging his pack. "here is one lately printed--worth its weight in gold, and more." the knight took it. it bore the simple title--"the new testament. german. wittemburg." "that is the very book i want," exclaimed the knight, eagerly. "yes, i doubt not that it is worth its weight in gold. by whom has it been done into german?" "by dr martin luther," answered the colporteur. "he began the work when shut up in the wartburg, and has only lately finished it with the help of dr melancthon. here are some other works by him. will you take them?" "yes, three--four--one copy of each. there is payment," said the knight, laying down some gold pieces. "i take but the proper price," answered the colporteur, returning most of them to him. "you are an honest man," said the knight. "if the books you sell have made you so, they must be good." "the books certainly are good, and i am more honest than i was. once i ate the bread of idleness, indulged in sloth, and was of no use to any one. now i labour for my food, and try to obey my lord and master," answered the colporteur. "why, what were you?" asked the knight. "a monk," answered the colporteur; "a lazy, idle monk. dr luther's books came among us, and we read them, and some of my more learned brethren translated the testament to us who were ignorant of greek, and we agreed that as jesus christ came into the world to set us an example as well as to die for our sins, and that as he ever went about doing good, our system of life could not be the right one. the more we looked into the matter, the more satisfied we became that it was altogether opposed to the gospel, and so we resolved forthwith to leave it. some who had the gift of preaching went forth to preach the gospel; others have begun to learn trades that they may support themselves; and, as i have a good broad pair of shoulders, i offered to carry throughout our fatherland the gospel book, and other works of dr luther, which had proved so great a blessing to our souls; and though i cannot preach, i can go about and tell people that, through god's love, christ died for all men; that there is but one mediator between god and man, jesus christ; and that men will be saved, not by dead works, but by a living faith in him, which will produce fruits unto righteousness, an earnest desire to imitate him, to serve him, to spread these glad tidings among all mankind." "it seems to me, in my humble wisdom, that you did right," observed the knight. "however, do not tell father nicholas this it you meet him. whenever you return this way, call here and bring me more books." "gladly; and i shall have some portions in german of the old testament, in translating which dr luther is hard at work," said the colporteur. "by what name shall i remember you, friend?" asked the knight. "john muntz is my proper name, bookseller and labourer in christ's service," answered the colporteur, as he bade the knight farewell. sturdy, honest john muntz went his way throughout the land, selling luther's and melancthon's books, with the new testament and such parts of the old as they issued from the press, sometimes reading their contents, sometimes telling to single persons or to small assemblies, in simple language, of the glorious old truths thus brought once more to light. it may be, in the great day, that many far-famed preachers will be surprised that humble john muntz, and other labourers such as he, in the lord's vineyard, have turned more souls into the way of righteousness than they. the count of lindburg took his books into his own room and locked them up, that he might read them at leisure. he was not prepared just then to enter into a controversy with father nicholas, and he wished for quiet. he knew that his good wife and his daughter laneta would take the part of the priest, and he had an idea that when eric came back from wittemburg he would prove a valuable ally on his side. now and then, however, as he read on, he felt very much inclined to rush down and proclaim not only to his wife and the priest, but to the whole household and neighbourhood, the wonderful truths here so clearly proved and explained. but though he rose from his seat with the book in his hand and opened the door, he went back and sat down again. though brave as a lion in war, and often impetuous at home, he was still timid in his own household. his womenkind and father nicholas had found out his weak point, and knew where to assail him. the knight had always wished to act rightly according to his convictions, consequently when some few years before this time--that is, a short time before he paid the visit to worms, where he first heard dr luther speak--he had been urged by father nicholas and his wife to allow his youngest daughter ava, to become, as they called it, the spouse of christ, or, in other words, to enter a nunnery; she raising no objection, he consented, believing, as he had been assured, that her eternal happiness would thus be secured, and that she would be better provided for than becoming the wife of one of the rough, fierce, warlike, beer-drinking knights, who alone were likely to seek her hand. the knight, however, often sighed as he thought of his fair blooming little ava shut up in the monastery of nimptsch, and wished to have her back again to sing and talk to him and to cheer his heart with her bright presence, but he dared not to express his feelings to any of his family, as he knew that they would be considered rank heresy. often he would have liked to write to his dear child, but, in the first place, he was but a poor scribe, and in the second, he guessed that any epistle he might send would be opened by the lady superior, and its contents scanned before delivery, and adverse comments made, if it was not withheld altogether. so little ava stayed on at the convent, embroidering priests' dresses and other ornaments for churches, and attending mass. whether or not she ever felt like a wild bird shut up in a cage, wishing to be free, he could not say; he thought it possible. she was wont once to go about the castle singing like a bright happy bird, not shut up in a cage then. he wondered whether she sang now. he was sure that the nun's dress could not become her as the bright-coloured bodice and skirt she wore. he wondered, too, whether she ever went out now, as she was accustomed to do when at home, among the cottagers in the neighbourhood, with a basket of food and simples, and distributed them to the sick and needy with gentle words, which won their hearts, or whether when mendicants came to the gate she stopped and listened to their tales of suffering, relieved them when she could, and seldom failed to drop a tear of sympathy for their griefs, which went like balm to the hearts of many. he opined that the high-born ladies of the monastery of nimptsch would scarcely condescend thus to employ their time. they undoubtedly were brides of christ, but, as the lady abbess had once remarked, it was the business of his more humble spouses to imitate his example in that manner. after the knight had been thinking in this style, when he descended into the hall he was invariably accused of being sullen and out of temper. not that he had any fault to find with his good frau margaret, or with his daughter laneta. they were excellent, pious women in their way. they had embroidered five altar-cloths, seven robes of silk for the virgin mary, and three for saint perpetua, saint agatha, and saint anne; they had performed several severe penances for somewhat trifling faults; not a piece of meat had passed their lips during lent; and they had fasted on each friday and other canonical days throughout the year. alms they gave whenever they could get money from the knight for the purpose, and doles of bread to the poor with stated regularity; indeed, they felt sure that they would richly have merited heaven, even with a less amount of good deeds. still they were desirous of making security doubly secure. when, therefore, in the year , that is, before ava went to the convent, dr john tetzel, prior of the dominicans, apostolic commissary and inquisitor, set up his pulpit and booth in the neighbouring village for the sale of indulgences, they had been among the crowds who had flocked to his market. near him was erected a tall red cross, with the arms of the pope suspended from it. "indulgences, dear friends," he exclaimed, when he saw a large mob collected round him, "are the most precious and noble of god's gifts. see this cross; it has as much efficacy as the cross of christ. come, and i will give you letters, all properly sealed, by which even the sins which you intend to commit may be pardoned. i would not change my privileges for those of saint peter in heaven, for i have saved more souls by my indulgences than the apostle by his sermons. there is no sin so great that an indulgence cannot remit; only pay, pay well, and all will be forgiven. only think, for a florin you may introduce into paradise, not a vile coin, but an immortal soul, without its running any risk. but, more than this, indulgences avail not only for the living, but for the dead. for that repentance is not even necessary. priest! noble! merchant! wife! youth! maiden! do you not hear your parents and your other friends who are dead, and who cry from the bottom of the abyss, `we are suffering horrible torments! a trifling alms would deliver us; you can give it, and you will not.'" then tetzel had told them how saint peter and saint paul's bodies were rotting at rome because the pope, pious as he was, could not afford to build a proper edifice to shelter them from the weather without their help. "bring-- bring--bring!" he shouted, in conclusion. dame margaret and her daughters were greatly moved by these appeals, though little ava thought the monk need not have shouted so loudly. the dame, who had just before persuaded her lord to give her a good sum of money, bought a large supply of indulgences, not only for herself and daughters, but for the knight, who, she secretly believed, required them far more than they did, because he never performed penances, made quick work at confession, and regularly grumbled on fast-days; besides, she could not tell of what sins he might have been guilty in his youth. she did not tell him what she had done, but she felt much more happy than before to think that they would now all go to heaven together. she would even, in her zeal, have made further purchases, had not father nicholas expostulated with her, observing that it would be much better if she paid the money to enable him to say masses, which would prove quite as efficacious; and, besides, be spent in germany instead of going to rome. she was greatly horrified, some time after this, to hear the knight inveigh furiously against tetzel and his indulgences, and call him an arch rogue and impostor. of course, on this, she did not tell him how she had spent his money, lest he might make some unpleasant reflections on the subject; besides, she suspected that he would not appreciate the advantages she had secured for him. but this was after ava had been sent away to nimptsch. chapter four. eric, now a close prisoner in the castle of schweinsburg, felt very indignant at the treatment he had received, and apprehensive of the consequences of his capture by his father's enemy. though the fierce baron would not have scrupled to put an ordinary man to death, he did not think he would venture to injure him or his person further than keeping him shut up. it was on his father's account that he was most anxious, as he guessed that the baron had seized him for the sake of enforcing his unjust claims on count von lindburg, and that unless these were yielded to, he himself might be kept a prisoner for years. who indeed was to say what had become of him? the baron and his retainers were the only people cognisant of his capture, except little platter, and of course he would have run away, and must have been too frightened to be able to give any clear account of the matter. it would be, of course, supposed that he and hans had been set on by robbers, of whom there were many prowling about the country, and been murdered in some wood, and their bodies buried or thrown into a pond. "patience, my dear young master," answered hans, when eric had thus expressed his apprehensions; "we are in a difficulty, of that there is no doubt, but i have been in a worse one and escaped out of it. once your honoured father and i were captured by the saracens, and we fully expected to lose our heads, but the very last night we thought that we should be alive on earth we had a file conveyed to us in a loaf of bread by a little damsel who had taken a fancy to his handsome countenance, and we were able to let ourselves down from the window of our prison. a couple of fleet horses were in readiness, and we were away and in christian territory before the morning dawned. i have been praying heartily to the holy virgin and to the saints, and i have no doubt that they will help us." "i have not the slightest hope of any such thing, my good hans," said eric, who had already imbibed many protestant opinions. "it is god in heaven who hears our prayers. if he will not attend to them, no one else will, for he loves us more than human beings can, whether they are in this world or in another. he often, however, works out his plans for our good by what appear to us such small means that we fail to perceive them. i have read in the greek testament that `not a sparrow falls to the ground but that he knows it; and that even the very hairs of our head are all numbered.' is it likely, therefore, that he would employ any intermediate agents between himself and man, except the one great, well-beloved intercessor, his only son. would he even allow them to interfere if they were to offer their services? our lord himself, when, on one occasion, his mother ventured to interfere in a work he was about, rebuked her, though with perfect respect, with these remarkable words, `woman, what have i to do with thee?' again, when on the cross, he recommended her to the care of his well-beloved disciple, saint john; he said, `behold thy mother!' `woman, behold thy son!' o hans, i wish that you and all the people of our fatherland, could read the bible itself in our own tongue, you would than see how different is the religion we have been taught by the `pfaffs' to that which jesus christ came on earth to announce to sinful man. it will be happy for our country should that day ever come, because then the people will be able to understand on what their religion is grounded, and be able to refute the false arguments of those who oppose it. there is a certain young professor at wittemburg whose works i have read with peculiar delight, as he seems, even more than dr martin impressed by a sense of the love god has for man, and his willingness to hear all who go to him in the name of his dear son." old hans was silent for some time. at last he looked up, and said, "there seems to me a good deal of truth in what you have remarked, my young lord. i always used to think that god is too great to trouble himself with the affairs of us poor people, whatever he may do with kings and princes, and so he employs the saints to look after us, and the saints, not wishing to come out of heaven on all occasions, employ the `pfaffs' (priests) to do their works, only it has struck me now and then that they have made great mistakes in their agents, at all events they have got hold of very bad ones." this conversation took place after eric and his attendant had been three or four days prisoners in the castle. they had had a sufficiency of food brought to them, and had altogether been treated better than they had expected. they were interrupted by the entrance of a young page, who, saluting eric respectfully, said that he had been sent by his lady, the baroness, who desired to see him, and that he was ready to conduct him into her presence. eric was naturally surprised at this message. he was not even aware that there existed a baroness schweinsburg. hans, as an old soldier, deemed it right to be cautious. he whispered a few words into his young master's ear. "no, impossible!" answered eric, giving a searching glance at the page, "the boy is honest. there can be no treachery intended." "not quite certain of that," whispered hans. "i should like to go with you, my dear young master." "be assured that no injury will happen to me," said eric. "i am ready to accompany you to your lady, my boy." "i suppose that i may come also?" said hans. "it does not become a young noble to be without his attendant." "my orders were only to conduct the young gentleman himself into the presence of my mistress," answered the page frankly, "nevertheless, i can ask my mistress; she will probably not object." "no, no, i will accompany you alone if your noble lady graciously desires to see me," exclaimed eric, following the page, who led the way down the stairs of the turret. hans went to the door and anxiously listened, glancing round the room for something that he might use as a weapon, should it be required in his young master's defence. eric meantime followed the page without hesitation down the steps and through several passages till they arrived at the door of a room in the lower part of the castle. the page threw it open, and, with a respectful bow, begged eric to enter. he did so, and found himself in the presence of a lady who, although no longer young, was of a handsome and prepossessing appearance. she rose as he entered, and, presenting her hand, begged him to be seated. "i regret to hear what has happened," she said, "and i have just received a communication from one whom i know, and whose works have had a great influence on me, and have had i trust, also on my good lord. he has heard of your capture on your way to wittemburg, and of your detention here, and he writes earnestly that you may be liberated forthwith, and allowed to proceed on your journey. my good lord is absent so that i cannot at once, as i would wish, plead your cause with him; but i will write to him and obtain his permission to liberate you, and to make all the amends in my power for the inconvenience you have suffered. i am not ignorant of the quarrel which exists between my lord and the count, your father; but i consider, that you should not, in consequence, be made to suffer. still, if what has happened becomes known, it will only still further the increase the enmity which exists between our families; and for that reason, and for the sake of the blessed faith we hold, i would entreat you not to allow the outrage which has been committed against you to become generally known. when, as it is necessary, you mention it to the count, your father, beg him to overlook it, and not to retaliate, as it is but natural he should do. if you can give me this promise, i shall the better be able to plead with my good lord, and i think and hope his mind might be changed, and that the wounds which have so long existed may be healed." eric, much struck by the words spoken by the baroness, and by her tone and manner, without hesitation gave the promise she requested. who could be the friend who had pleaded with her on his behalf, and by what means had he been informed of his capture? he would ask the lady. "my informant is the most excellent and pious dr martin luther," she answered. "he encountered you on his journey to wittemburg, to which place he has just returned from his long residence in the castle of wartburg. you had with you a little `schutz,' who, escaping when you were attacked by our people, whose livery he knew, watched the direction in which you were taken. immediately he set off to wittemburg to give information of what had become of you, and the very first person he encountered was dr martin whom he at once recognised as your companion on the road, in spite of his change of dress. the doctor knew well that i could not be cognisant of what had occurred, and he hoped that my good lord would not be insensible to a direct appeal from himself. i feel sure that he did not miscalculate his influence with my lord; still it would ill become me, as a wife, to set you at liberty without his cognisance, and i must beg that you will allow me, in the mean time, to treat you as an honoured guest." some further conversation shewed eric that the baroness had attentively read many of the works of dr luther, melancthon, and others; and that they had produced a great influence on her mind, and had not been without some effect, as she supposed, on that of her husband. it was thus that the principles of the reformers were affecting all ranks and conditions of men, while a still greater effect was shortly to be produced by the wide circulation of the translation of the holy scriptures made by dr luther in wartburg, and at this moment being printed in wittemburg. suddenly eric found his condition completely changed. he had given his word that he would not quit the castle till the baroness had heard from her lord, and he was now treated by all with the greatest respect. the lady herself was not the only one who had imbibed the principles of the reformation, and eric found several works of the wittemburg doctor, parts of which, with her permission, he read aloud to her household. at length the baron returned. he had a long interview with his wife, and not without a struggle did he yield to dr martin's request; but the better spirit prevailed, he acknowledged himself in the wrong, entreated eric's pardon, and having given him a farewell feast, escorted him on his way until they came in sight of wittemburg. "truly, my master," observed hans, "the gospel, of these wittemburg doctors is a wonderful thing. it has changed a fierce, boasting, hard, grasping baron into a mild and liberal man. it has procured us our liberty, who were doomed, i feared, to a long captivity. i must ask leave to remain with you at wittemburg that i may learn more about it." this permission was easily granted, and thus, as hans did not return home, the count of lindburg was not made acquainted till long afterwards of the insult which had been put on him by the baron of schweinsburg, and they had been happily reconciled in all other matters, both professing the same glorious faith, and united in the bonds of a common brotherhood. eric took up his abode with the family of herr schreiber rust, to whom he had been recommended. the next day, as he went forth to attend the lecture of dr martin luther, he found little platter eagerly looking out for him. great was the boy's delight when he saw him. "i knew that my young lord would come here without delay to hear the doctor, and so i have been every day waiting for you," he exclaimed. "i find too, that it was he himself whom we rode with and talked with so long. ah! he is a great man." eric had much for which to thank little platter, and that he might prove his gratitude effectually, he at once added him to his household, that thus the boy might pursue his studies without having to beg for his clothing and daily bread. it was interesting to see hans bosch, the old soldier, following his young master from hall to hall, and also to church, endeavouring to comprehend the lessons he heard. all the important truths he did understand and imbibe gladly, and great was his satisfaction when the little schutz platter undertook to teach him to read that he might study by himself the gospel in german, which dr luther had just translated, and was, at that time, issuing from the press. well might the supporters of the papal system exclaim with bitterness that their power and influence were gone when the common people had thus the opportunity of examining the bible for themselves, by its light trying the pretensions which that system puts forth. would that all professing protestants, at the present day, studied prayerfully the word of god, and by its light examined the doctrines and the system of the church of rome. it would show them the importance of making a bold stand for the principles of the reformation, unless they would see the ground lost which their fathers so bravely strove for and gained. chapter five. eric at once set steadily to work to study, attending regularly the lectures of the various professors, more especially those of dr luther. that wonderful leader of the reformation was now giving a course of sermons on important subjects in the chief church in the town. on all occasions when he entered the pulpit the church was crowded with eager and attentive listeners. he had a difficult task to perform. during his absence at wartburg various disorders occurred. several enthusiasts, from various parts of the country, mostly ignorant, and little acquainted with the gospel, assumed the title of prophets, and violently attacked every institution connected with rome--the priests in some places were assailed with abuse as they were performing the ceremonies of their church--and these men, at length, coming to wittemburg, so worked on some of the students that the churches were entered, the altars torn up, and the images carried away and broken and burnt. the enthusiasts were known as the prophets of zwickau, from the place where they first began to preach their doctrines. to put a stop to these disorders, luther had been entreated to return from the wartburg to wittemburg. the proceedings which have been described were in direct opposition to the principles on which he, melancthon, and other leaders of the reformation had been acting. their whole aim from the first, was to encourage learning, to insist on the study of the scriptures, to do nothing violently, and to persuade and lead their fellow-men to a knowledge of the truth. no great movement ever advanced with more slow and dignified steps than the reformation. the existence of gross abuses produced it. had the romish hierarchy been willing to consent to moderate reforms, they might not humanly speaking, have lost their influence, and the whole of europe might still have groaned under their power. but god had not thus ordered it. by their own blindness and obstinacy they brought about their own discomfiture. luther himself was eminently conservative. he never altogether got rid of some of the notions he had imbibed in the cloister. step by step he advanced as the light dawned on him--not without groans and agitations of mind--yielding up point after point in the system to which he had once adhered. eric was present at one of the first of the important series of sermons which the great doctor preached on his return to wittemburg. the enthusiasts had refused to be guided by the gospel. they had asserted (misunderstanding the apostle) that it mattered little how a man lived, provided he had faith, and that they had a right to compel others by force, if necessary, to adopt their views. "it is with the word we must fight," said the great doctor, in reply to these opinions. "by the word we must overthrow and destroy what has been set up by violence. let us not make use of force against the superstitious and unbelieving. let him who believes approach--let him who believes not keep away. no one must be constrained. liberty is the very essence of faith." entering the pulpit, he addressed the congregation in language full of strength and gentleness, simple and noble, yet like a tender father inquiring into the conduct of his children. "he rejoiced," he told them, "to hear of the progress they had made in faith," and then he added, "but, dear friends, we need something more than faith, we need charity. if a man carries a drawn sword in a crowd, he should be careful to wound no man. look at the sun--two things proceed from it--light and heat. what king so powerful as to bend aside his rays? they come directly to us, but heat is radiated and communicated in every direction. thus faith, like light, should be straight, radiate on every side, and bend to all the wants of our brethren. you have abolished the mass, in conformity, you say, to scripture. you were right to get rid of it. but how did you accomplish that work? what order--what decency did you observe? you should have offered up fervent prayers to god, and obtained the sanction of the legal authorities for what you proposed doing; then might every man have acknowledged that the work was in accordance with god's will. "the mass is, i own, a bad thing. god is opposed to it, but let no one be torn from it by force. we must leave the matter in god's hands. his word must act, and not we. we have the right to speak; we have _not_ the right to act. let us preach; the rest belongs to god. our first object must be to win men's hearts, and to do this we must preach the gospel. god does more by his word alone than by the united strength of all the world. god lays hold upon the heart, and when that is taken all is gained. see how saint paul acted. arriving at athens, he found altars raised to false gods. he did not touch one; but, proceeding to the market-place, he explained to the people that their gods were senseless idols. his words took possession of their hearts. their idols fell without paul having raised his hand. "i will preach, discuss, and write, but i will constrain none, for faith is a voluntary act. observe what has been done: i stood up against the pope, indulgences and other abominations, but without violence or tumults. i put forward god's word. i preached and wrote. this was all i did. yet while i slept or gossiped with my friends, the word that i had preached overthrew popery, so that not the most powerful prince nor emperor could have done it so much harm. what would have been the result had i appealed to force? ruin and desolation would have ensued. the whole of germany would have been deluged with blood. i therefore kept quiet and let the word run through the world alone. `what, think you,' satan says, when he sees men resorting to violence to propagate the gospel, as he sits calmly, with folded arms, malignant looks, and frightful grin? `ah, how wise these madmen are to play my game!' but when he sees the word running and contending alone on the battle-field, then he is troubled, his knees knock together, and he shudders and faints with fear." speaking of the lord's supper, his remarks are of great importance. "it is not the outward manducation that makes a christian, but the inward and spiritual eating, which works by faith, and without which all forms are mere show and grimace," he observed. "now this faith consists in a firm belief that jesus christ is the son of god; that, having taken our sins and iniquities upon himself, and having borne them on the cross, he is himself their sole and almighty atonement; that he stands continually before god; that he reconciles us with the father, and that he hath given us the sacrament of his body to strengthen our faith in his unspeakable mercy. if i believe in these things, god is my defender; although sin, death, hell, and devils attack me, they can do me no harm, nor disturb a single hair of my head. this spiritual bread is the consolation of the afflicted, health to the sick, life to the dying, food to the hungry, riches to the poor." these sermons caused much discussion, not only in the university, but throughout germany. eric was among those who entered most eagerly into the subjects brought forth by the reformers. he soon formed several friendships with his brother students. his most intimate friend was albert von otten, who was rather older than himself, and had been some years at the university. he was intimate, too, with melancthon, armsdorff, and others. "dr philip has written on that subject," observed albert, speaking of the last of dr martin's sermons. "here are some remarks from fifty-five propositions, which were published some time back." "just as looking at a cross," he says, "is not performing a good work, but simply contemplating a sign that reminds us of christ's death, just as looking at the sun is not performing a good work, but simply contemplating a sign that reminds us of christ and his gospel, so partaking of the lord's supper is not performing a good work, but simply making use of a sign that reminds us of the grace that has been given us through christ. "but here is the difference, namely, that the symbols invented by men simply remind us of what they signify, while the signs given us by god not only remind us of the things themselves, but assure our hearts of the will of god. "as the sight of a cross does not justify, so the mass does not justify. "as the sight of a cross is not a sacrifice either for our sins or for the sins of others, so the mass is not a sacrifice. "there is but one sacrifice--but one satisfaction--jesus christ. besides him there is none other." dr carlstadt was the first to celebrate the lord's supper in accordance with christ's institutions. on the sunday before christmas-day he gave out from the pulpit that, on the first day of the new year, he would distribute the eucharist in both kinds to all who should present themselves; that he would omit all useless forms, and wear neither cope not chasuble. hearing, however, that there might be some opposition, he did not wait till the day proposed. on christmas-day, , he preached in the parish church on the necessity of quitting the mass and receiving the sacrament in both kinds. after the sermon he went to the altar, pronounced the words of consecration in german; then, turning to the people, without elevating the host, he distributed the bread and wine to all, saying, "this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant." at the end he gave a public absolution to all, imposing no other penance than this, "sin no more." no one opposed him, and in january the council and university of wittemburg regulated the celebration of the lord's supper according to the new ritual. thus fell the mass--the chief bulwark of rome. it, and transubstantiation, had for three centuries been established. "it had tended to the glory of man--the worship of the priest. it was an insult to the son of god; it was opposed to the perfect grace of his cross, and the spotless glory of his everlasting kingdom. it lowered the saviour, it exalted the priest, whom it invested with the unparalleled power of reproducing, in his hand, and at his will, the sovereign creator." from the time of its establishment the church seemed to exist not to preach the gospel, but simply to reproduce christ bodily. the roman pontiff, whose humblest servants created at pleasure the body of god himself, sat as god in the temple of god, and claimed a spiritual treasure, from which he issued at will indulgences for the pardon of souls. [note .] luther at length agreed to have a conference with the prophets of zwickau. they said that they could work miracles. he desired them to do so. they became furiously enraged. he quickly upset their pretensions, and they, the same day, quitted wittemburg, thoroughly defeated. thus by the wisdom of one man, tranquillity was restored, and the reformation was able to proceed with sure and certain footsteps, unmolested. the work of all others with which, next to the testament, eric was most delighted, was melancthon's "common-places of theology," written during the time luther had resided in the wartburg. it was a body of doctrine of solid foundation and admirable proportion, unlike any before written. he considered that the foundation on which the edifice of christian theology should be raised is "a deep conviction of the wretched state to which man is reduced by sin." thus the truth was promulgated through the length and breadth of the land, while luther, by his translation of the bible, was preparing the means by which all classes could imbibe it from its fountain head. not only the students at the universities, but women and children, soldiers and artisans, became acquainted with the bible, and with that in their hands, were able successfully to dispute with the doctors of the schools and the priests of rome. eric had been very anxious to learn more of the early life of dr luther than he before knew, that he might refute the statements father nicholas had been fond of making concerning him. he could not have applied to a better person than albert, who had been acquainted with the family of conrad cotta, with whom martin had resided while at eisenach, and who had ever after taken a deep interest in his welfare and progress. it is that ursula, conrad cotta's wife, the daughter of the burgomaster of ilefeld, who is designated in the eisenach chronicles as the pious shunamite, martin, while singing to obtain food with which to support himself while pursuing his studies at the school of eisenach, and having often been harshly repulsed by others had attracted her attention. she had before been struck by hearing his sweet voice in church. she beckoned him in, and put food before him that he might appease his hunger. conrad cotta not only approved of his wife's benevolence, but was so greatly pleased with the lad's conversation that he from henceforth gave him board and lodging in his house, and thus enabled him to devote all his time and energies to study. "john luther, dr martin's father, was a miner, residing at eisleben, where, on the th of november, , our doctor was born," began albert. "when he was not six months old, his parents removed to mansfeldt. john luther was a superior man, industrious and earnest. he brought up his children with great strictness. believing that martin had talent, he was anxious that he should study for the law, and he obtained for him the best education in his power. first he was sent to magdeburg, but finding it impossible to support himself at that place, he moved to eisenach. among the professors was the learned john trebonius, who, whenever he entered the schoolroom, raised his cap. one of his colleagues inquired why he did so? `there are among those boys, men of whom god will one day make burgomasters, counsellors, doctors, and magistrates. although you do not see them with the badges of their dignity, it is right that you should treat them with respect,' was the answer. martin had been two years at erfurth, and was twenty years old, when, one day, examining the books in the public library, he found a latin bible--a rare book--unknown in those days. till then he imagined that the fragments selected by the church to be read to the people during public worship composed the whole word of god. from that day it became his constant study and delight. a severe illness, brought on by hard study, gave him time for meditation. he felt a strong desire to become a monk, under the belief that by so doing he should attain to holiness. all this time living with the excellent cotta family, nothing could be more exemplary and orderly than his life. though animated and lively and delighting in music, he had, from his boyhood, been serious-minded and earnest in the extreme, and at no period did he give way to the excesses of which his enemies accuse him. on his recovery from his illness, he paid a visit to his parents at mansfeldt; but he did not venture to express the wish he entertained of entering a monastery, from fearing that his father would disapprove of it. on his return journey he was overtaken by a fearful storm, and he made a vow that, should he escape destruction, he would devote himself to the service or god. his whole desire was now to attain holiness. he believed that he could not find it in the world. he bade farewell to his friends, he entered the cloister, his father's expostulations and anger caused him grief, but he persevered. in spite of all the penances and severities he underwent, he could not attain to the holiness he sought. it was not to be found in the convent. he found, too, a true friend in staupitz, the vicar-general of the augustines for all germany, a man eminent for his learning, his liberality, and true piety. the elector, frederick the wise, founded, under his direction, the university of wittemburg, to which, by his advice, the young doctor was shortly appointed professor. it is worthy of remark that, long after dr martin had ceased to think of purchasing heaven by his abstinence, so simple were his tastes, that a little bread and a small herring often composed his only meal in the day, while often he was known to go days together without eating or drinking. the great movement owes much to staupitz. dr martin opened all his heart to him, and told him of all his fears about his own want of holiness, and the unspeakable holiness of god. `do not torment yourself with these speculations,' answered the vicar-general. `look at the wounds of jesus christ--to the blood that he has shed for you; it is there that the grace of god will appear to you. instead of torturing yourself on account your sins, throw yourself into your redeemer's arms. trust in him--in the righteousness of his life--in the atonement of his death. do not shrink back, god is not angry with you; it is you who are angry with god. listen to the son of god, he became man to give you the assurance of divine favour. he says to you, you are my sheep, you hear my voice; no man shall pluck you out of my hand.' still dr martin could not understand how he was to repent, and be accepted by god. `there is no real repentance except that which begins with the love of god and of righteousness,' answered the venerable staupitz. `in order that you may be filled with the love of what is good, you must be filled with the love for god. if you desire to be converted, do not be curious about all these mortifications, and all these tortures, love him who first loved you.' a new light broke on dr martin's soul, and, guided by it, he began to compare the scriptures, looking out for all the passages which treat on repentance and conversion. this was his delight and consolation. he desired, however, to go further; staupitz checked him. `do not presume to fathom the hidden god, but confine yourself to what he has manifested to us in jesus christ,' he said; `look at christ's wounds, and then you will see god's counsel towards man shine brightly forth. we cannot understand god out of jesus christ. in him the lord has said, you will find what i am and what i require; nowhere else, neither in heaven nor in earth, will you discover it.' again staupitz advised him to make the study of the scriptures his favourite occupation, and represented to him that it was not in vain that god exercised him in so many conflicts, for that he would employ him as his servant for great purposes. truly have the words of the good old man come true. yet dr martin was far from enlightened. he was to obtain full emancipation from the thraldom of rome in rome itself. he was sent there to represent seven convents of his own order, who were at variance with the vicar-general. he had always imagined rome to be the abode of sanctity. ignorance, levity, dissolute manners, a profane spirit, a contempt for all that is sacred, a scandalous traffic in divine things. such was the spectacle afforded by this unhappy city. even when performing their most sacred ceremonies, the priests derided them. some of them boasted that when pretending to consecrate the elements, they uttered the words `_panis es et panis manebis; vinum es et vinum manebis_.' while himself performing mass, on one occasion, the priest near him, who had finished his, cried out, `_passa_--_passa_--_quick_--_quick_!--have done with it at once!' it was the fashion at the papal court to attack christianity, and no person could pass for a well-bred man unless he could satirise the doctrines of the church. these, and numberless other abominations, which he saw and heard, must greatly have shaken his faith in the sanctity of rome; and, at length, on a certain occasion, his eyes were completely opened. the pope had promised an indulgence to all who should ascend on their knees a staircase, which it is pretended was brought from pilate's judgment-hall, and that down it our blessed lord had walked. it is called `pilate's staircase.' while he, with others, desirous of obtaining the promised indulgence, was laboriously climbing up the stair on his knees, he thought that he heard a voice of thunder crying out, `_the just shall live by faith_.' he rose at once, shuddering at the depth to which superstition had plunged him, and fled from the scene of his folly. yes, those words are the key-note of all the arguments by which our glorious work must be supported," exclaimed albert. "yes, _faith without works justifies us before god_; that is the fundamental article dr martin holds. soon after his return he was made doctor of divinity, and could now devote himself to the study of the holy scriptures, and, which was of the greatest importance, lecture on them. while thus engaged, he ever, from the first, pointed to the lamb of god. the firmness with which he relied on the holy scriptures imparted great authority to his teaching. in him also every action of his life corresponded with his words. it is known that these discourses do not proceed merely from his lips--they have their source in his heart, and are practised in all his works. many influential men, won over by the holiness of his life, and by the beauty of his genius, not only have not opposed him, but have embraced the doctrine to which he gave testimony by his works. the more men love christian virtues, the more men incline to dr martin. but i need say no more to refute the calumnies which have been uttered against him. see what instances he has given, too, of his dauntless character. when the plague broke out here he refused to fly, but remained employed in translating the new testament. see how boldly he nailed his theses against indulgences to the church doors; how bravely he burnt the pope's bull. although the elector would not allow tetzel to enter his dominions, he got to a place within four miles of wittemburg, and many people purchased indulgences. while dr martin was seated in the confessional, many of these poor dupes came to him and acknowledged themselves guilty of excesses. `adultery, licentiousness, usury, ill-gotten gains'--still they would not promise to abandon their crimes, but trusting to their letters of indulgence obtained from tetzel, showed them, and maintained their virtue. dr martin replied, `except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.' this circumstance still further opened his eyes to the abuses and evil system of the church to which he belonged, but not even yet had the idea of separating from her occurred to his mind, not indeed until the pope anathematised dr martin for speaking the truth did he acknowledge that he was indeed antichrist, and that no true christians could hold communion with him." eric soon became as warm an admirer of dr martin luther, as was his friend, albert von otten. the reformation movement was now proceeding, seemingly with far more rapid strides than before. the bible was being disseminated; the convents thrown open--or, at all events, their inmates were leaving them--superstitions were being abolished; a pure form of worship was being established in numerous places; and, what was of the greatest importance, young men of high talent and courage were being educated in the principles of the reformation to spread the pure light of the gospel throughout all parts of germany. little thomas platter made great progress in his studies, and bid fair to grow up an earnest christian and industrious man, amply paying eric for the care he bestowed on him. hans bosch, when his young master was about to return home, begged that he might come back with him to wittemburg. "i there got an abundance of substantial food for my soul, while father nicholas serves us out only piecrust, filled with dry dust that is neither meat nor drink," said the old man, as he looked up while packing his young master's valise. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . merle d'aubigne's "history of the reformation." chapter six. eric, with his friend, albert von otten, arrived unexpectedly one day, to the knight's very great satisfaction at lindburg. the knight embraced his son affectionately. "i have a great many questions to ask, and difficulties for you to solve, my son," he said, as he beckoned him to come to his room. "and i, father, have very many things to say to you, so that we shall have plenty to talk about. albert will, in the meantime, entertain my mother and laneta." "and now, eric, what do you think of this dr luther?" asked the knight, after he had looked along the passage which led to his room, and locked the door. "think, father! that he has brought light out of darkness--that he has made the boldest stand that ever man has done against the power, the tyranny, the impositions of the pope, and the superstitions which he and his predecessors have ever encouraged for the sake of filling their pockets, utterly regardless of the souls they led away from christ and salvation," exclaimed eric, warming as he proceeded. "he has done, and he is doing a glorious work, and though his foes were to burn him to-morrow, they could not extinguish the light he has kindled. he teaches that man is by nature sinful and alienated from god, but that god so loved the world that he sent his son to become a sacrifice for man's sins, to suffer instead of man, and thus to enable him, through repentance and faith in that sacrifice, to be reconciled to himself; that christ is the only mediator between god and man; neither his mother mary, nor the saints, have anything to do in the matter; that they required his sacrifice as much as others, and that, therefore, fasts, penances, invocation of saints, masses for the dead, purgatory, indulgences, are all the inventions of the popes to put money into their pockets, or into the pockets of the priests, their supporters, or of the devil, to lead souls astray." "i heartily agree with him, eric. see, i have read something about the matter already," said the knight, going to the oak chest in which he kept his treasures, and bringing out the testament and some of dr luther's works. "i never found myself a bit the better for fasts or penances, whenever i thought that i ought, for my sins, to endure them; and, as for indulgences, i felt very much inclined to kick that scoundrel tetzel out of the place when i heard that he had come to sell them in this neighbourhood. now, tell me, does your friend, albert von otten, preach? he looks as if he had the gift of speech." "indeed he has," said eric. "he has the power of moving the hearts of his hearers." "then he shall preach in our church next sunday, and to all in this castle as well, in spite of what father nicholas may say to the contrary!" exclaimed the knight. "i have long wanted you, eric, to take father nicholas in hand; you may be able to convince him, and your mother too--she is a good woman, but bigoted and obstinate, begging her pardon, and i should have had no peace if i had once begun, unless i had come off the conqueror at once. albert von otten will help you." eric gladly undertook the task. it was the chief object he had had in view since he had himself been converted to the truth. he immediately broke ground. his mother and laneta were very much astonished at his doctrine, but they would not acknowledge that he was right. father nicholas had scarcely a word to say in return, so he put on the stolid look of a schoolboy brought up unwillingly to receive a lecture. "young men's dreams," he muttered, "or devices of satan to draw men from the true church. ah, the bible is, as i always said, a dangerous book. little did those who wrote it dream what mischief it would cause in the world." the minds of the whole household were much agitated by the subjects of which eric and his friend spoke to them. still more so was the knight himself the next day, when the colporteur, john muntz, presented himself at the gate, and, demanding to see him, put into his hand a letter from his own little daughter ava. he read it over and over again, and his countenance beamed with satisfaction. he immediately called eric to him, ordering refreshment to be brought in the meantime for john muntz in the hall, and desiring him to talk to his people and to sell any of his books if he could. ava, after sending greeting to him and her mother, and love and duty, continued: "and now, dear father, i must tell you that i cannot longer endure this life. it was only while i believed that i was doing god service that i loved it. now i am certain that it is directly contrary to his law. i have read the new testament carefully with prayer, and i can find nothing there to sanction it. we are told not to bow down to images-- not to use vain repetitions in prayers; we are employed the greater part of each day in doing these two things. we invoke dead saints, we worship the virgin mary, we fast, we perform penances to merit heaven, and all the time the bible tells us that there is but one mediator between god and man, jesus christ, and that by repentance and through faith in him can we alone become righteous and meet to enter the kingdom or heaven. i cannot tell you one-half of the objections i have to remain here. there are also eight other nuns who desire to leave, and they have written to their parents to the same effect, though some of them tremble as to what will be the answers; others say that there was so much grief when they went away, that they are certain that there will be rejoicing to get them back. i know how sorry you and mother and laneta were when i left home, that i have no doubt that you will be glad to have me return. but how are we to get away?--there is the difficulty. we know that we are watched, and that every effort will be made to detain us." "i have no doubt that there will!" exclaimed eric. "sister ursula, as they call their lady abbess, would move heaven and earth to detain them if she knew that they wished to escape. do not write, lest the letter should fall into the old dame's hands; but let me go with albert, and depend on it we shall find means before long of letting out the caged birds." the knight, without saying what albert proposed, showed ava's letter to dame margaret. she was horrified. "what! a professed nun break her vows?" she exclaimed. "a bride of christ forsake her bridegroom! horrible profanity! no. i love ava as my daughter, but i can never receive one who is so utterly neglectful of all her religious obligations. you must write and tell her that is impossible to comply with her request. i am sure father nicholas will agree with me." "dear wife," said the knight, calmly, "when i allowed our little ava to become a nun, it was to secure, as i thought, her happiness in this life and the next. she tells us that, in one respect, our object has signally failed, and there is a book i have been reading which convinces me that it will not advance in one single respect our object with regard to the other. therefore, let our dear ava come home, and do you and laneta receive her as should her mother and sister. i mean what i say, margaret, and advise father nicholas to hold his tongue about the matter." the lady margaret, watching her lord's eye, and being a discreet woman, came to the conclusion that it would be wise to keep silent, but she secretly resolved to use every exertion to prevent so terrible a scandal taking place in her family. the knight, however, was an old soldier, and suspecting what was passing in the mind of his better half, determined to be beforehand with her. "she will be writing to that sister ursula to keep the poor little dove under double lock and key," he said to himself. "eric will have a difficulty even to get a sight of her. i must tell him what i suspect, and leave it to him to foil the plans of his lady mother; she is a good woman though, an excellent woman in her way, but she would have been much the better it we had never been saddled with father nicholas. i will make him go the right-about one of these days, when he least expects it, if he does not reform his system. and here, eric you will want money. don't stint in the use of it. it will accomplish many things. silver keys open locks more rapidly than iron ones, and i would give every coin i possess to get our dear little ava back again." eric and his friend, meantime, were making preparations for their journey, and as soon as their horses could be got ready they rode off. they were, however, seen by dame margaret, who immediately suspected where they were going. unfortunately, father nicholas had just then entered the castle. she forthwith told him all she knew and thought, and urged him to find a quick messenger, who would outstrip the young men and warn the lady abbess. father nicholas hurried off with a purse which the lady put into his hand, to find a person to carry his message, resolving to take the credit to himself of the information he was sending. ava lindburg and her companions in the monastery of nimptsch were eagerly awaiting the reply to the letters they had written to their homes requesting permission to return. they were all young, and several of them pretty; but as they had been among the most sincere of the sisterhood, so they had the most rigidly performed all the fasts, penances, vigils, imposed on them, and already the bloom of youth had departed, and the pallor or the ascetic had taken its place. poor girls! they had sought peace, but found none; they desired to be holy, but they had discovered that fasts, penances, and vigils--the daily routine of formal services--long prayers, oft repeated, had produced no effect; that their spirits might be broken by this system, but that it could change their hearts. "we are shut out from the great world, certainly," wrote one of them, "but we have one within these walls, and a poor miserable, trivial, life-frittering, childish, querulous, useless, hopeless set of inhabitants it contains. this is not the house of martha, and mary, and lazarus--this is not such an abode as jesus would desire to lodge in. if he were to visit us, it would be to tell us to go forth into the world to fulfil our duties as women, not, like cowards, to shrink from them, to fight the good fight of faith, to serve him in the stirring world into which he came, in which he walked, in which he lived, that he might be an example to us. though he has not come to our convent, he has sent us a message full of love and compassion--his testament, the gospel--and it has given us fresh life, fresh hopes, fresh aspirations; and through its teaching we are sure of the holy spirit which he promised. other books have been sent us to assist in opening our eyes. we are convinced that this mode of life is not the one for which we were born; that it is a life, not of holiness, but of sin, for it is useless, for it is aimless, for it is against the teaching of the gospel." the answers came at length. tears flowed from the eyes of some, sobs burst from the bosoms of others, while several turned paler even than before, and their hands hung hopelessly by their sides. many of the letters were full of kind expressions, while other parents chided their daughters harshly for contemplating the possibility of breaking their vows, and abandoning the life of holiness to which they were devoted; but one and all wound up by declaring that they would not allow such a stigma to rest on their noble families as would arise were they to encourage a daughter to abandon her holy calling. little ava received no answer to her epistle sent by the colporteur, and she was eagerly looking out for his return. he had told her how eagerly her father had bought his books, and she had still some hopes that the reply would be favourable. she could not, however, fail to observe the severe look with which the lady abbess regarded her, and she was still more alarmed when she found that her testament, and several books by drs. melancthon and luther, had been taken out of her cell. in truth, the lady abbess had received the communication sent by father nicholas, and was on the watch, expecting to see the gay young student, eric of lindburg, and his companion arrive, intending afterwards to commence a system of severe punishment on the offending ava. the lady abbess was not aware that ava was only one of many whose eyes had been opened, and who desired their freedom. chapter seven. one bright afternoon, in the month of may, , a light waggon, driven by a venerable-looking person with a long white beard, stopped before the gate of the convent of nimptsch, and from out of it stepped a merchant of equally venerable and still more dignified appearance. he begged the portress to present his humble respects to the lady abbess, with a request that he might be allowed to offer for sale to the noble ladies numerous articles which they might find acceptable. the lady abbess, having carefully surveyed the venerable merchant and his driver through a lattice above the gate, was satisfied that they might, without danger, be admitted into the court-yard. the horses were, however, somewhat restive, and it required, evidently, all the strength the old driver possessed to keep them quiet while his master took out his bales and boxes, and conveyed them, with somewhat feeble steps, into the room were strangers, such as he, were received. an iron grating ran across it, within which the nuns were collected; but there existed a small window, through which articles could be handed for inspection. the merchant evidently understood the tastes and requirements of nuns. there were silks for embroidery and gold-thread, and beads, and pencils, and brushes, and colours for illuminating missals, and paper and writing materials, and various manufactures for making artificial flowers; he had even spices and mixtures for making confectionery. there was linen also, coarse and fine, and all the materials of the exact hue required by the sisters for their dresses; indeed, it would have been difficult to say what there was not in herr meyer's waggon which the nuns could possibly require. the price, too, at which he sold his goods was remarkably low, and the nuns of nimptsch were not at all averse to making good bargains. unfortunately, however, he discovered that he had only brought specimens of many of the articles. his large waggon he had left at torgau. he would, therefore, take the orders with which the holy ladies might honour him, and return next day with the goods. the merchant, herr meyer, was better than his word, for he returned the next day not only with the articles ordered, but with many other curious things, which he had brought, he said, for the inspection and amusement of the ladies, and the servants and attendants in the house; the good portress especially was remembered. there were carriages and animals which ran along the ground by themselves, and a house in which a door opened, when out of it came a cock which crowed, and then a small bird came out of an upper window and sang, and then a woman looked out to ascertain what the noise was about. numerous toys of a similar character the merchant had brought, he said, from nuremburg. meantime the horses in the waggon became very frisky, the merchant, therefore, went down, with most of his boxes to help quiet them, he said, leaving the abbess and her nuns busily engaged with the toys; the portress, too, was still watching the cock coming out of the house and crowing, and the bird singing, and the woman looking out to see what it was all about. "these horses will be doing some mischief, karl, if they stay shut up in this court-yard," exclaimed the merchant. "i will open the gate, and then if they choose to gallop off they will soon get tired, and you can come back for me and my goods." suiting the action to the word, he undid the bars of the gate, and karl drove through, pulling up, however, directly he was outside. the portress ran out, for such a thing as allowing a stranger to open the gate was against all rule. "stay, i have some more curious things," said the merchant. and he stepped into the waggon. just at that moment something must have startled the horses, for they set off at full speed, the driver in no way attempting to stop them. the lady abbess and the nuns looked out through the bars of the windows, expecting to see herr meyer, after his horses had had a good gallop, return with the other curiosities he had said he possessed. they looked and looked, but they looked in vain. at last they came to the conclusion that some accident had happened. for this they were very sorry, as they all agreed that a more pleasant-spoken, liberal merchant they had never seen. the opinions, however, of the lady abbess and some of the elder sisters were somewhat modified, when at vespers, as all the nuns were assembled, sister ava, and another young and pretty nun, her great friend, sister beatrice, were missing. they were not in their cells. the whole convent was searched; they were not to be found. never had there been such a commotion among the authorities and elder sisters, though most of the young ones took the matter very quietly, and did not search for what they knew well was not to be found. remembering the warning she had received, the lady abbess had a strong suspicion that eric lindburg was at the bottom of the matter. this was only the beginning of her troubles. somehow or other, fresh heretical books were introduced into the convent, and the young nuns had so completely mastered the contents of those of which they had been deprived that they were able to discuss them and explain them to the elder sisters. even the abbess herself could not answer many of their arguments which they boldly put forth, nor indeed could the father confessor, nor the other visiting priests. of the last one heartily agreed with them, and the others boldly acknowledged that there was a great deal of truth in what they said. gaining confidence, nine young ladies at last united to support each other, and positively refused to attend mass or any services when adoration was paid to the virgin mary or to the saints, and demanded that as their vows were taken in ignorance, and that as they were directly contrary to the gospel, they should be released from them, and allowed to return into the world to fulfil their duties as virtuous women and citizens. those in authority were astonished and utterly confounded, and hesitated to take any harsh measures. public opinion they well knew outside the convent walls ran pretty strongly in favour of the nuns' opinions. as their friends would not receive them at home, the young ladies resolved to repair in a body to some respectable place with order and decency. through some means their resolution was made known to two pious citizens of torgau, leonard koppe and wolff tomitzsch, who offered their assistance. "it was accepted as coming from god himself," says an historian of that time. without opposition they left the convent, and koppe and tomitzsch received them in their waggon, and conveyed them to the old augustine convent in wittemburg, of which luther at that time was the sole occupant. "this is not my doing," said luther, as he received them; "but would to god that i could thus rescue all captive consciences, and empty all the cloisters. the breach is made." catharine bora, who afterwards became his wife, found a welcome in the family of the burgomaster of wittemburg, and the other nuns, as soon as their arrival was known, were gladly received in other families of similar position. it may here be remarked that the facts of the case completely refute the vulgar notion, put forth by the enemies of the reformation, that luther commenced the work of the reformation for the sake of enabling himself and other monks and priests to marry. his mind was long in doubt whether monks ought to marry. many months after he became acquainted with the excellent catharine, when his friends pressed him to marry, he replied: "god may change my heart if it is his pleasure, but i have no thought of taking a wife. not that i feel no attractions in that state, but every day i expect the death and punishment of an heretic." not till more than a year after catharine bora had escaped from the convent did she become the wife of martin luther. chapter eight. the count von lindburg had been anxiously waiting news from eric, but none had arrived. the lady margaret had been assured by father nicholas that his message had been safely delivered to the abbess of nimptsch, and that, in spite of all master eric and his plausible friend might do, she would take very good care her little prisoner should not escape her. the knight was growing anxious; he was afraid that something had gone wrong, when, one afternoon, a light waggon, the horses which drew it covered with foam, drove up to the gate of the castle. over the drawbridge it dashed, for the porter did not hesitate to admit it, and a venerable-looking old gentleman, habited as a merchant, descending, handed out two young girls in peasants' dresses. the knight caught sight of the waggon, and hurrying down, one of the girls was soon in his arms. "my own ava! my pet little bird, and you have escaped from your cage! welcome--welcome home, and praised be god who has given me this great blessing!" he exclaimed, again and again kissing her cheek. his child wept as she hung on the old man's neck. while this was taking place, the other young lady looked about very much astonished and frightened, though there was nothing particularly to frighten her, and the grave merchant was doing his best to reassure her. "well done, eric, my boy--well done, albert von otten!" exclaimed the knight, when he could bring himself to turn his attention for a moment from his recovered daughter. "oh! thank albert, father; it was he thought of the plan; he designed the whole of it. i merely acted the part he selected for me," answered eric. "i thank him heartily, then; for very well done it has been, and you have both my eternal gratitude," said the knight. "and this young lady, i conclude that she helped you in the undertaking?" "no; it was they helped me to run away, as ava did not like to go alone, and she promised me an asylum under your roof." "and you shall have it, if the pope and all the cardinals were to come and demand you. they shall pull the walls down before i will give you up. and now tell me who you are, my dear fraulein?" "i am beatrice von reichenau, of swabia. my father, count von reichenau, and my mother decline to receive me, and yet they love me, i am sure; but, alas! they little know the horrors of the life to which they had devoted me." "better times will come, my sweet fraulein!" said the knight, who just then saw everything in a bright light. meantime, dame margaret, father nicholas not being in the castle, having seen the waggon and the young ladies get out of it, and guessing what had happened, and that her fine scheme had failed, went to the great hall, accompanied by laneta, that she might receive ava with becoming dignity, and reprimand her in a manner suitable to her offence. she had just taken her post when the knight entered with timid little ava clinging to his arm, looking more sweet and lovable than ever in her becoming peasant's dress, and not a bit like a wicked runaway nun. as soon as she saw her mother, she ran forward and threw herself into her arms, half weeping and half smiling. "oh, mother--mother, i am so thankful to see you again!" she cried. dame margaret began her speech, but it would not come out. nature asserted her rights over bigotry and superstition; she burst into tears, and, folding her daughter to her bosom, exclaimed, "and i, ava, am glad to have you, darling!" "i always said that she was a good woman, and now i am convinced of it," said the knight. "father nicholas has done his best to spoil her, but, thank heaven! he has not succeeded, and his reign is pretty well over, i suspect." laneta, who really in her way loved her sister, followed her mother's lead, and embraced ava affectionately. the dame margaret was also not a little gratified when she found that her daughter's companion in her flight was so high-born a girl as beatrice von reichenau. "if a young lady of her rank could do such a thing, it surely could not be so very wrong," she said to herself. her reasoning was not very good, but it served just then to smooth matters. ava and her friend were not idle in the castle, nor did they confine their labours to it. their mild, gentle, subdued manners and earnest and zealous spirits attracted all hearts with whom they came in contact. the glorious truths they had received into their own souls they were anxious to impart to others, nor did they feel that any trouble, any exertion, was too great for them to take to forward that object. still it was very evident that to effect any speedy change on a large scale among the peasantry a preacher was required. albert von otten had been made a priest in the days of his ignorance, before he went to wittemburg, and he remembered the knight's offer to let him preach in the neighbouring church. father nicholas somewhat demurred, but the knight assured him that albert von otten, he was sure, would only preach sound doctrine, and advised him to hold his tongue. such a sermon as albert preached had never been heard in that church. he said not a word about himself. he held up but one object--christ jesus walking on earth, christ jesus crucified, christ rising again, christ ascending into heaven, christ sitting on the right hand of god pleading for sinners. then he added: "dear friends, once a man came among you to sell you what he called indulgences; were they indulgences to commit sin, or indulgences to obtain pardon? what impious imposition! oh! dear friends--dear friends! god's gifts of grace are free--are priceless. the blood of his only son purchased them for us once for all. gifts, gifts--free, free gifts--are what god offers; no selling now, no purchasing now--that has all been done. christ has paid the price for every sin that man has committed or ever will commit, and man can by his works not add one jot, one tittle, to that all-sufficient price. god's offer is all of free grace. man has but to look to christ, to repent, to desire to be healed, and he will be forgiven, he will be accepted and received into heaven. dear friends, when moses was leading the israelites out of egypt, the land of persecution, of slavery, of idolatry, through the wilderness, they were visited by a plague of venomous serpents whose bite sent fiery pains through their bodies, which speedily terminated by their death. god then ordered moses to make a brazen serpent (the serpent being among the egyptians the emblem of the healing power, which was well understood by them [note ]). this serpent he was to raise up on a pole in a conspicuous part of the encampment, and all who simply looked at it, desiring to be healed, were instantly to be healed. moses asked no price, no reward; the bitten sufferers were only to exert themselves to look to ensure being healed. christ himself told his disciples, `as moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the son of man be lifted up'--that was himself on the cross, `that all'--of every tongue, and kindred, and nation,--`who believe in him'-- that is to say, look on him as the israelites at the brazen serpent--`shall not perish'--shall not die of the fiery bite of sin--`but have eternal life.' this is gospel--gospel truth. then what becomes of indulgences, penances, fasts, invocations to saints, to the virgin mary, gifts, alms, if bestowed with the idea of purchasing aught? all useless, vain, insulting to god's generosity, mercy, kindness. it is as if a great noble were to pardon a poor man who had grossly offended him, and, moreover, to bestow a favour on him, and the poor man were to offer him a groat as payment, saying, `no, i cannot receive your pardon and your favour as a free gift; i must return you something; indeed, a groat is not much, neither do i very greatly value your pardon, because i do not think my offence was very great, nor your favour, which, after all, is but small.' "`foolish man,' the lord would say, `i bestowed that pardon and that favour on you in my beneficence. i require nothing in return but your gratitude and your obedience, and that you should speak of my name and fame among my other vassals, and live in amity with them, doing them all the service in your power. say, foolish man, what else can a poor, helpless, decrepit, broken-down creature like yourself do for me?' what should you say, dear friends, if this poor wretched man were to answer, `no, but there are a set of people in your dominions, who assume to be your ministers, though to be sure they make a mockery of your name and love to send people over to serve your enemies,' i can buy of them what they call indulgences, which they say are much better than your free pardon; besides, i may offend as often as i please, and you will be compelled to forgive me because i have paid them; and if it were not for these indulgences, i could fast, i could beat myself, and perform numberless other penances; i could mumble petitions to you, not thinking of what i was saying; indeed, i have no fear but what i can make ample amends to you for this gift which you have bestowed, for this pardon which you have offered. dear friends, you will say what a weak, conceited, foolish, impudent wretch is that man of whom you speak; and yet what are you doing when you perform penances, and fasts, and such-like works? what did you do when you purchased that mountebank impostor tetzel's indulgences? confess--confess that he swindled you out of your money, but o do not, by trusting to them, which you might as well do as a sinking man to a feather or a straw in the raging ocean, allow the arch-deceiver satan to swindle you out of your souls." this address, of which many similar were delivered at that time throughout germany and switzerland, produced a great effect in the village. no one heard it more eagerly, or with greater delight, than ava and her companion. it brought out clearly so much of what they had read in the convent. "god's free grace! god's free grace!" they repeated to each other. "oh, what a loving, merciful god he must be!" it made father nicholas very uncomfortable. had he, then, all his life been encouraging a system of imposture? it was a question he would have to answer somehow. dame margaret also went back to the castle sorely troubled in mind. she thought that she had by purchasing tetzel's indulgences, secured the salvation of herself and all her family. she was fond of a bargain, and she thought that really she had made a good one by the expenditure or a few gold ducats, considering the advantage to be gained. and now she was afraid that she, and her husband, and children were no nearer heaven than they were before she had bought the indulgences; and from the description tetzel gave of it, purgatory must be a very disagreeable place, but she comforted herself by thinking that tetzel might have imposed on his hearers in that matter also. as, however, there was no lack of testaments in simple, clear german, and parts of the bible also, and albert, and eric, and ava, and beatrice too, able and anxious to explain it, gradually both dame margaret's and laneta's eyes were opened, and their faith in the system to which they had before clung was greatly shaken. father nicholas, however, could not be so easily turned from his old notions, and now came that terrible convulsion caused by the outbreak of the peasantry and the sad blood-shedding which followed. "ah," he exclaimed, triumphantly, "see the work which luther and his followers have produced!" "no such thing," answered the knight, indignantly; "you ought to know that these attempts were commenced long before dr luther was heard of. discontent has been fermenting among them for many years. they have some reason and a great deal of folly on their side. they have done their work like foolish savages as they are, and they will suffer the fate of fools, though, in the meantime, they may do a great deal of mischief." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . an interpolation of the author's, this fact probably not being known in luther's days. chapter nine. it was at the eventful period described in the last chapter that the count von lindburg was first introduced to the reader, leaning on his elbow, with a book before him, in his turret-chamber. he had great cause for thoughtfulness. eric and albert had gone to wittemburg. ava and beatrice had continued earnestly labouring among the surrounding peasantry, and the minds of the poor people had been awakened by albert's sermons with great success; dame margaret and laneta continued wavering; and father nicholas, though he did not openly oppose the gospel, persevered in all his old practices, and remained ready to take the winning side. public events were one cause of the knight's anxiety, and, besides, it was rumoured that insurgents were appearing in his neighbourhood, threatening to attack his, among other surrounding castles. it would be wrong to deny that the reformation was not in a certain degree connected with the rebellion of the peasants, but in this manner: the liberty which the gospel demands for all men when the spirit of that gospel is received into their hearts, makes them ready to submit to rulers and endure persecutions patiently; but when, though men know its truths, their hearts have not been regenerated, they being aware of their rights as men appeal to the sword to obtain them. certain fanatics, also, had appeared, who, though professing to found their doctrines on the bible, were greatly opposed to the principles of the gospel. the most notorious of these was thomas munzer, pastor of alstadt, in thuringia; another was john muller, of bulgenbach, in the black forest, the inhabitants of which he rallied round him, and raised the standard of rebellion. here the insurrection began. on the th of july, , some thurgovian peasants rose against the abbot of reichenau, who would not accord them an evangelical preacher. ere long thousands were collected round the small town of tengen, to liberate an ecclesiastic who was there imprisoned. the revolt spread rapidly, from swabia as far as the rhenish provinces, franconia, thuringia, and saxony. at weinsberg, count louis, of holfenstein, and seventy men under his orders, were condemned to death by the rebels. a body of peasants drew up with their pikes lowered, whilst others drove the count and his soldiers against this wall of steel. at the approach of the peasants, the cities that were unable to resist them opened their gates and joined them. wherever they appeared they pulled down the images and broke the crucifixes. many nobles, some through fear and others from ambition, joined them. in vain luther wrote to them, "rebellion never produces the amelioration we desire, and god condemns it. what is it to rebel if it be not to avenge one's self? the devil is striving to excite to revolt those who embrace the gospel, in order to cover it with opprobrium; but those who have rightly understood my doctrine do not revolt." at length the princes threw off their lethargy; the imperial forces marched to encounter the peasants, and defeated them in every direction. the nobles were soon victorious, and retaliated with most terrible severity on the misguided men. the peasants were hung up by hundreds at the roadside, the eyes of numbers were put out, and some were burnt alive, and in all parts of the country the romish style of worship was re-established. still the rebellion was far from being stamped out, and large bodies of insurgents were in arms in different parts of the country besides those in the neighbourhood of the castle of lindburg. the knight had done his best to put his castle in a state of defence, and his own tenantry promised to come in and fight to the last gasp should it be attacked. ava and beatrice, notwithstanding the state of things, went about the country as before, fearless of danger. "we are doing our duty," they answered, when dame margaret expostulated with them; "we are carrying out the work to which we devoted our lives, in helping our suffering fellow-creatures, in making known the love of god through his dear son, and he will protect us." the knight, as i have said, having done all that a man could do, sat down in his study, to quiet his mind by reading. he found it, however, a difficult task. even when he managed to keep his eyes on the page, his mind let them labour alone, and refused to take in the matter they attempted to convey. it was a positive relief when he heard a horse's hoofs clattering into the court-yard. he hurried down to hear the news brought by the horseman. it was truly alarming. the scout who had been sent out by the knight to gain information, stated that a body of some thousand men were advancing, threatening to destroy all the castles in the district, and that lindburg was the first on their line of march. not a moment was to be lost. he instantly sent out messengers, some to summon his retainers, and others to bring in provisions. the drawbridge was raised, the gates secured. dame margaret and laneta were greatly alarmed. father nicholas, who had arrived with all the ornaments of the church, and as much as his mule could carry, urged the ladies, and all he could get to listen to him, to invoke the protection of the saints. "these new-fangled doctrines brought about all these disorders; ergo, you must go back to the old system to avert them, if it is not already too late." the knight advised him to talk sense or keep silence, but the time was opportune, he thought. "religion must be supported," he answered, meaning the romish system, "or we shall be undone." from the top of the watch-tower a cloud of dust was seen rising. it was caused by the insurgent peasants, horse and foot, approaching. "poor people, they have many real causes of complaint. i wish they had remained quiet, for their own sake, and allowed the law to right them," observed the knight. "let us pray for them that their hearts may be changed, and that they may see their folly and wickedness," said ava; and beatrice repeated the sentiment. just then three horsemen were seen approaching the castle at full speed. the knight soon recognised his son and albert von otten; the other was a stranger. "ah, they come to bring us the aid of their swords," exclaimed the knight. "three gentlemen will be a host in themselves when opposed to those unhappy serfs." the drawbridge was lowered to admit them. eric directed that it should be left down, as they were going again to sally forth immediately. he embraced his father and mother and sisters, and he might have said a few words to beatrice, as certainly albert did to ava, and eric introduced the stranger as frederick myconius, professor of divinity. "welcome, gentlemen; but i thought, i confess, that you were fighting men come to aid in defence of the castle. i was counting on your good swords." "our good swords you shall have, father," answered eric, taking off the belt to which hung the scabbard of his weapon. "but we ourselves cannot wield them. we go forth with other weapons than those of steel, and trusting to other strength than an arm of flesh to quell these misguided men. dr myconius will address them, as dr martin luther has already addressed thousands, and turned them aside from their purpose of vengeance. we have, though, no time to lose." "go forth, my son--go forth, my friends; i feel sure that god, who sees all our actions, will protect you with his almighty arm in so noble and pious an object," exclaimed the knight, holding the sword which had been given to him. the three brave young men rode forth from the castle unarmed, and hastened towards the rebel host. they well knew the danger, humanly speaking, to which they were exposing themselves, but not for a moment did they hesitate doing what they knew to be right. they were soon face to face with the insurgent band, led on by a man in a red cloak and hat and white plume. they were a wild savage set of beings in appearance. many a bold man might have hesitated to encounter them. those who now advanced to meet them trusted not in their own strength to deliver them. dr myconius rode first. as he drew close to the insurgents, he lifted up his arm and said, "bear with me, dear friends, while i address a few words to you, and ask you what you seek? what are you about to do? what object do you desire to gain? is it one well-pleasing to god, or is it not rather one he abhors? is it revenge? the gospel of jesus christ will not permit its indulgence. is it to overthrow principalities and powers? the gospel orders us to obey them. is it to oppose the power of the papacy? the light of truth can alone do that. is it lust, rapine, murder, you desire to commit? those who do such things can never inherit the kingdom of heaven. listen, dear friends, to those who love you, who feel for you, who know that you have souls to be saved-- precious souls above all price in god's sight, for them he sent down his son on earth to suffer far more wrongs than you have ever suffered. endanger not these precious souls by the acts you contemplate. turn aside from your purpose, fall on your knees, and pray to god to enlighten your minds, to give you patience above all things to bear your sufferings here for a short time, that, trusting in the merits of christ jesus, who once suffered for you, and now reigns and pleads for you, you maybe raised up to dwell with him, to reign with him in happiness unspeakable for ever and ever." such was the style of eloquence with which one of the great leaders of the reformation addressed the lately infuriated insurgents. it went to their hearts; they acknowledged its truth, the power from which it flowed, and yielded to its influence. peaceably they divided into small parties; thus they returned to their villages, to their separate homes, speaking as they went of the love of christ, and the sufferings he had endured for their sakes, and praying that they too might endure any sufferings it might please their heavenly father to call on them to bear with patience for his sake, that thus the christian character might be exalted in the eyes of the world. the three friends returned to the castle. the success of their undertaking was heard of with astonishment. the knight went to his testament, and came back exclaiming, "i see, i see, it was the right way to do it. it was the way jesus christ would have acted, and i doubt not he was with you to counsel and guide you." dame margaret and laneta, and even father nicholas, confessed that the mode they had employed with dr martin luther and others, to put down the insurrection, was far more satisfactory and sensible than that which the roman catholic nobles and knights had pursued with cannon-balls, bullets, and sharp swords. the two ladies at length, through the gentle influence of ava and beatrice, completely abandoned the errors of rome, and embraced the truths of evangelical religion. father nicholas, still clinging to the idolatry to which he had been accustomed, was compelled to give up his cure, and thankfully accepted a small pension from the knight, on condition that he should keep silence till he had learned the truth. albert von otten, notwithstanding his rank, gladly became the humble pastor of lindburg, and little ava as gladly became his most efficient helpmate, while beatrice von reichenau married eric. the knight arrived at a green old age, and though there was little peace in the world, he found it in his home and in his heart, and saw his grandchildren grow up pious christians and sound brave protestants. erasmus and the age of reformation johan huizinga _with a selection from the letters of erasmus_ harper torchbooks / the cloister library harper & row, publishers new york, evanston, and london [illustration: woodcut by hans holbein. ] erasmus and the age of reformation _printed in the united states of america_ huizinga's text was translated from the dutch by f. hopman and first published by charles scribner's sons in . the section from the letters of erasmus was translated by barbara flower. reprinted by arrangement with phaidon press, ltd., london originally published under the title: "erasmus of rotterdam" first harper torchbook edition published library of congress catalogue card number - contents _preface by g. n. clark_ xi chap. i childhood and early youth, - ii in the monastery, - iii the university of paris, - iv first stay in england, - v erasmus as a humanist vi theological aspirations, vii years of trouble--louvain, paris, england, - viii in italy, - ix the praise of folly x third stay in england, - xi a light of theology, - xii erasmus's mind xiii erasmus's mind (_continued_) xiv erasmus's character xv at louvain, - xvi first years of the reformation xvii erasmus at basle, - xviii controversy with luther and growing conservatism, - xix at war with humanists and reformers, - xx last years xxi conclusion selected letters of erasmus _list of illustrations_ _index of names_ preface _by g.n. clark, provost of oriel college, oxford_ rather more than twenty years ago, on a spring morning of alternate cloud and sunshine, i acted as guide to johan huizinga, the author of this book, when he was on a visit to oxford. as it was not his first stay in the city, and he knew the principal buildings already, we looked at some of the less famous. even with a man who was well known all over the world as a writer, i expected that these two or three hours would be much like the others i had spent in the same capacity with other visitors; but this proved to be a day to remember. he understood the purposes of these ancient buildings, the intentions of their founders and builders; but that was to be expected from an historian who had written upon the history of universities and learning. what surprised and delighted me was his seeing eye. he told me which of the decorative _motifs_ on the tower of the four orders were usual at the time when it was built, and which were less common. at all souls he pointed out the seldom appreciated merits of hawksmoor's twin towers. his eye was not merely informed but sensitive. i remembered that i had heard of his talent for drawing, and as we walked and talked i felt the influence of a strong, quiet personality deep down in which an artist's perceptiveness was fused with a determination to search for historical truth. huizinga's great success and reputation came suddenly when he was over forty. until that time his powers were ripening, not so much slowly as secretly. his friends knew that he was unique, but neither he nor they foresaw what direction his studies would take. he was born in in groningen, the most northerly of the chief towns of the netherlands, and there he went to school and to the university. he studied dutch history and literature and also oriental languages and mythology and sociology; he was a good linguist and he steadily accumulated great learning, but he was neither an infant prodigy nor a universal scholar. science and current affairs scarcely interested him, and until his maturity imagination seemed to satisfy him more than research. until he was over thirty he was a schoolmaster at haarlem, a teacher of history; but it was still uncertain whether european or oriental studies would claim him in the end. for two or three years before giving up school-teaching he lectured in the university of amsterdam on sanskrit, and it was almost an accident that he became professor of history in the university of his native town. all through his life it was characteristic of him that after a spell of creative work, when he had finished a book, he would turn aside from the subject that had absorbed him and plunge into some other subject or period, so that the books and articles in the eight volumes of his collected works (with one more volume still to come) cover a very wide range. as time went on he examined aspects of history which at first he had passed over, and he acquired a clear insight into the political and economic life of the past. it has been well said of him that he never became either a pedant or a doctrinaire. during the ten years that he spent as professor at groningen, he found himself. he was happily married, with a growing family, and the many elements of his mind drew together into a unity. his sensitiveness to style and beauty came to terms with his conscientious scholarship. he was rooted in the traditional freedoms of his national and academic environment, but his curiosity, like the historical adventures of his people and his profession, was not limited by time or space or prejudice. he came more and more definitely to find his central theme in civilization as a realized ideal, something that men have created in an endless variety of forms, but always in order to raise the level of their lives. while this interior fulfilment was bringing huizinga to his best, the world about him changed completely. in , holland became a neutral country surrounded by nations at war. in , also, his wife died, and it was as a lonely widower that he was appointed in the next year to the chair of general history at leyden, which he was to hold for the rest of his academic life. yet the year after the end of the war saw the publication of his masterpiece, the book which gave him his high place among historical writers and was translated as _the waning of the middle ages_. this is a study of the forms of life and thought in france and the netherlands in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the last phase of one of the great european eras of civilization. in england, where the middle ages had been idealized for generations, some of its leading thoughts did not seem so novel as they did in holland, where many people regarded the renaissance and more still regarded the reformation as a new beginning of a better world; but in england and america, which had been drawn, unlike holland, into the vortex of war, it had the poignancy of a recall to the standards of reasonableness. it will long maintain its place as a historical book and as a work of literature. the shorter book on erasmus is a companion to this great work. it was first published in and so belongs to the same best period of the author. its subject is the central intellectual figure of the next generation after the period which huizinga called the waning, or rather the autumn, of the middle ages; but erasmus was also, as will appear from many of its pages, a man for whom he had a very special sympathy. something of what he wrote about erasmus might also have been written about himself, or at least about his own response to the transformation of the world that he had known. this is not the place for an analysis of that questioning and illuminating response, nor for a considered estimate of huizinga's work as a whole; but there is room for a word about his last years. he was recognized as one of the intellectual leaders of his country, and a second marriage in brought back his private happiness; but the shadows were darkening over the western world. from the time when national socialism began to reveal itself in germany, he took his stand against it with perfect simplicity and calm. after the invasion of holland he addressed these memorable words to some of his colleagues: 'when it comes, as it soon will, to defending our university and the freedom of science and learning in the netherlands, we must be ready to give everything for that: our possessions, our freedom, and even our lives'. the germans closed the university. for a time they held johan huizinga, now an old man and in failing health, as a hostage; then they banished him to open arrest in a remote parish in the eastern part of the country. even in these conditions he still wrote, and wrote well. in the last winter of the war the liberating armies approached and he suffered the hardships of the civilian population in a theatre of war; but his spirit was unbroken. he died on february , a few weeks before his country was set free. g. n. clark oriel college, oxford april erasmus _and the age of reformation_ chapter i childhood and early youth - the low countries in the fifteenth century--the burgundian power--connections with the german empire and with france--the northern netherlands outskirts in every sense--movement of _devotio moderna_: brethren of the common life and windesheim monasteries--erasmus's birth: --his relations and name--at school at gouda, deventer and bois-le-duc--he takes the vows: probably in when erasmus was born holland had for about twenty years formed part of the territory which the dukes of burgundy had succeeded in uniting under their dominion--that complexity of lands, half french in population, like burgundy, artois, hainault, namur; half dutch like flanders, brabant, zealand, holland. the appellation 'holland' was, as yet, strictly limited to the county of that name (the present provinces of north and south holland), with which zealand, too, had long since been united. the remaining territories which, together with those last mentioned, make up the present kingdom of the netherlands, had not yet been brought under burgundian dominion, although the dukes had cast their eyes on them. in the bishopric of utrecht, whose power extended to the regions on the far side of the river ysel, burgundian influence had already begun to make itself manifest. the projected conquest of friesland was a political inheritance of the counts of holland, who preceded the burgundians. the duchy of guelders, alone, still preserved its independence inviolate, being more closely connected with the neighbouring german territories, and consequently with the empire itself. all these lands--about this time they began to be regarded collectively under the name of 'low countries by the sea'--had in most respects the character of outskirts. the authority of the german emperors had for some centuries been little more than imaginary. holland and zealand hardly shared the dawning sense of a national german union. they had too long looked to france in matters political. since a french-speaking dynasty, that of hainault, had ruled holland. even the house of bavaria that succeeded it about the middle of the fourteenth century had not restored closer contact with the empire, but had itself, on the contrary, early become gallicized, attracted as it was by paris and soon twined about by the tentacles of burgundy to which it became linked by means of a double marriage. the northern half of the low countries were 'outskirts' also in ecclesiastical and cultural matters. brought over rather late to the cause of christianity (the end of the eighth century), they had, as borderlands, remained united under a single bishop: the bishop of utrecht. the meshes of ecclesiastical organization were wider here than elsewhere. they had no university. paris remained, even after the designing policy of the burgundian dukes had founded the university of louvain in , the centre of doctrine and science for the northern netherlands. from the point of view of the wealthy towns of flanders and brabant, now the heart of the burgundian possessions, holland and zealand formed a wretched little country of boatmen and peasants. chivalry, which the dukes of burgundy attempted to invest with new splendour, had but moderately thrived among the nobles of holland. the dutch had not enriched courtly literature, in which flanders and brabant zealously strove to follow the french example, by any contribution worth mentioning. whatever was coming up in holland flowered unseen; it was not of a sort to attract the attention of christendom. it was a brisk navigation and trade, mostly transit trade, by which the hollanders already began to emulate the german hansa, and which brought them into continual contact with france and spain, england and scotland, scandinavia, north germany and the rhine from cologne upward. it was herring fishery, a humble trade, but the source of great prosperity--a rising industry, shared by a number of small towns. not one of those towns in holland and zealand, neither dordrecht nor leyden, haarlem, middelburg, amsterdam, could compare with ghent, bruges, lille, antwerp or brussels in the south. it is true that in the towns of holland also the highest products of the human mind germinated, but those towns themselves were still too small and too poor to be centres of art and science. the most eminent men were irresistibly drawn to one of the great foci of secular and ecclesiastical culture. sluter, the great sculptor, went to burgundy, took service with the dukes, and bequeathed no specimen of his art to the land of his birth. dirk bouts, the artist of haarlem, removed to louvain, where his best work is preserved; what was left at haarlem has perished. at haarlem, too, and earlier, perhaps, than anywhere else, obscure experiments were being made in that great art, craving to be brought forth, which was to change the world: the art of printing. there was yet another characteristic spiritual phenomenon, which originated here and gave its peculiar stamp to life in these countries. it was a movement designed to give depth and fervour to religious life; started by a burgher of deventer, geert groote, toward the end of the fourteenth century. it had embodied itself in two closely connected forms--the fraterhouses, where the brethren of the common life lived together without altogether separating from the world, and the congregation of the monastery of windesheim, of the order of the regular augustinian canons. originating in the regions on the banks of the ysel, between the two small towns of deventer and zwolle, and so on the outskirts of the diocese of utrecht, this movement soon spread, eastward to westphalia, northward to groningen and the frisian country, westward to holland proper. fraterhouses were erected everywhere and monasteries of the windesheim congregation were established or affiliated. the movement was spoken of as 'modern devotion', _devotio moderna_. it was rather a matter of sentiment and practice than of definite doctrine. the truly catholic character of the movement had early been acknowledged by the church authorities. sincerity and modesty, simplicity and industry, and, above all, constant ardour of religious emotion and thought, were its objects. its energies were devoted to tending the sick and other works of charity, but especially to instruction and the art of writing. it is in this that it especially differed from the revival of the franciscan and dominican orders of about the same time, which turned to preaching. the windesheimians and the hieronymians (as the brethren of the common life were also called) exerted their crowning activities in the seclusion of the schoolroom and the silence of the writing cell. the schools of the brethren soon drew pupils from a wide area. in this way the foundations were laid, both here in the northern netherlands and in lower germany, for a generally diffused culture among the middle classes; a culture of a very narrow, strictly ecclesiastical nature, indeed, but which for that very reason was fit to permeate broad layers of the people. what the windesheimians themselves produced in the way of devotional literature is chiefly limited to edifying booklets and biographies of their own members; writings which were distinguished rather by their pious tenor and sincerity than by daring or novel thoughts. but of them all, the greatest was that immortal work of thomas à kempis, canon of saint agnietenberg, near zwolle, the _imitatio christi_. foreigners visiting these regions north of the scheldt and the meuse laughed at the rude manners and the deep drinking of the inhabitants, but they also mentioned their sincere piety. these countries were already, what they have ever remained, somewhat contemplative and self-contained, better adapted for speculating on the world and for reproving it than for astonishing it with dazzling wit. * * * * * rotterdam and gouda, situated upward of twelve miles apart in the lowest region of holland, an extremely watery region, were not among the first towns of the county. they were small country towns, ranking after dordrecht, haarlem, leyden, and rapidly rising amsterdam. they were not centres of culture. erasmus was born at rotterdam on october, most probably in the year . the illegitimacy of his birth has thrown a veil of mystery over his descent and kinship. it is possible that erasmus himself learned the circumstances of his coming into the world only in his later years. acutely sensitive to the taint in his origin, he did more to veil the secret than to reveal it. the picture which he painted of it in his ripe age was romantic and pathetic. he imagined that his father when a young man made love to a girl, a physician's daughter, in the hope of marrying her. the parents and brothers of the young fellow, indignant, tried to persuade him to take holy orders. the young man fled before the child was born. he went to rome and made a living by copying. his relations sent him false tidings that his beloved had died; out of grief he became a priest and devoted himself to religion altogether. returned to his native country he discovered the deceit. he abstained from all contact with her whom he now could no longer marry, but took great pains to give his son a liberal education. the mother continued to care for the child, till an early death took her from him. the father soon followed her to the grave. to erasmus's recollection he was only twelve or thirteen years old when his mother died. it seems to be practically certain that her death did not occur before , when, therefore, he was already seventeen years old. his sense of chronology was always remarkably ill developed. unfortunately it is beyond doubt that erasmus himself knew, or had known, that not all particulars of this version were correct. in all probability his father was already a priest at the time of the relationship to which he owed his life; in any case it was not the impatience of a betrothed couple, but an irregular alliance of long standing, of which a brother, peter, had been born three years before. we can only vaguely discern the outlines of a numerous and commonplace middle-class family. the father had nine brothers, who were all married. the grandparents on his father's side and the uncles on his mother's side attained to a very great age. it is strange that a host of cousins--their progeny--has not boasted of a family connection with the great erasmus. their descendants have not even been traced. what were their names? the fact that in burgher circles family names had, as yet, become anything but fixed, makes it difficult to trace erasmus's kinsmen. usually people were called by their own and their father's name; but it also happened that the father's name became fixed and adhered to the following generation. erasmus calls his father gerard, his brother peter gerard, while a papal letter styles erasmus himself erasmus rogerii. possibly the father was called roger gerard or gerards. although erasmus and his brother were born at rotterdam, there is much that points to the fact that his father's kin did not belong there, but at gouda. at any rate they had near relatives at gouda. erasmus was his christian name. there is nothing strange in the choice, although it was rather unusual. st. erasmus was one of the fourteen holy martyrs, whose worship so much engrossed the attention of the multitude in the fifteenth century. perhaps the popular belief that the intercession of st. erasmus conferred wealth, had some weight in choosing the name. up to the time when he became better acquainted with greek, he used the form herasmus. later on he regretted that he had not also given that name the more correct and melodious form erasmius. on a few occasions he half jocularly called himself so, and his godchild, johannes froben's son, always used this form. it was probably for similar aesthetic considerations that he soon altered the barbaric rotterdammensis to roterdamus, later roterodamus, which he perhaps accentuated as a proparoxytone. desiderius was an addition selected by himself, which he first used in ; it is possible that the study of his favourite author jerome, among whose correspondents there is a desiderius, suggested the name to him. when, therefore, the full form, desiderius erasmus roterodamus, first appears, in the second edition of the _adagia_, published by josse badius at paris in , it is an indication that erasmus, then forty years of age, had found himself. circumstances had not made it easy for him to find his way. almost in his infancy, when hardly four years old, he thinks, he had been put to school at gouda, together with his brother. he was nine years old when his father sent him to deventer to continue his studies in the famous school of the chapter of st. lebuin. his mother accompanied him. his stay at deventer must have lasted, with an interval during which he was a choir boy in the minster at utrecht, from to . erasmus's explicit declaration that he was fourteen years old when he left deventer may be explained by assuming that in later years he confused his temporary absence from deventer (when at utrecht) with the definite end of his stay at deventer. reminiscences of his life there repeatedly crop up in erasmus's writings. those concerning the teaching he got inspired him with little gratitude; the school was still barbaric, then, he said; ancient medieval text-books were used there of whose silliness and cumbrousness we can hardly conceive. some of the masters were of the brotherhood of the common life. one of them, johannes synthen, brought to his task a certain degree of understanding of classic antiquity in its purer form. toward the end of erasmus's residence alexander hegius was placed at the head of the school, a friend of the frisian humanist, rudolf agricola, who on his return from italy was gaped at by his compatriots as a prodigy. on festal days, when the rector made his oration before all the pupils, erasmus heard hegius; on one single occasion he listened to the celebrated agricola himself, which left a deep impression on his mind. his mother's death of the plague that ravaged the town brought erasmus's school-time at deventer to a sudden close. his father called him and his brother back to gouda, only to die himself soon afterwards. he must have been a man of culture. for he knew greek, had heard the famous humanists in italy, had copied classic authors and left a library of some value. erasmus and his brother were now under the protection of three guardians whose care and intentions he afterwards placed in an unfavourable light. how far he exaggerated their treatment of him it is difficult to decide. that the guardians, among whom one peter winckel, schoolmaster at gouda, occupied the principal place, had little sympathy with the new classicism, about which their ward already felt enthusiastic, need not be doubted. 'if you should write again so elegantly, please to add a commentary', the schoolmaster replied grumblingly to an epistle on which erasmus, then fourteen years old, had expended much care. that the guardians sincerely considered it a work pleasing to god to persuade the youths to enter a monastery can no more be doubted than that this was for them the easiest way to get rid of their task. for erasmus this pitiful business assumes the colour of a grossly selfish attempt to cloak dishonest administration; an altogether reprehensible abuse of power and authority. more than this: in later years it obscured for him the image of his own brother, with whom he had been on terms of cordial intimacy. winckel sent the two young fellows, twenty-one and eighteen years old, to school again, this time at bois-le-duc. there they lived in the fraterhouse itself, to which the school was attached. there was nothing here of the glory that had shone about deventer. the brethren, says erasmus, knew of no other purpose than that of destroying all natural gifts, with blows, reprimands and severity, in order to fit the soul for the monastery. this, he thought, was just what his guardians were aiming at; although ripe for the university they were deliberately kept away from it. in this way more than two years were wasted. one of his two masters, one rombout, who liked young erasmus, tried hard to prevail on him to join the brethren of the common life. in later years erasmus occasionally regretted that he had not yielded; for the brethren took no such irrevocable vows as were now in store for him. an epidemic of the plague became the occasion for the brothers to leave bois-le-duc and return to gouda. erasmus was attacked by a fever that sapped his power of resistance, of which he now stood in such need. the guardians (one of the three had died in the meantime) now did their utmost to make the two young men enter a monastery. they had good cause for it, as they had ill administered the slender fortune of their wards, and, says erasmus, refused to render an account. later he saw everything connected with this dark period of his life in the most gloomy colours--except himself. himself he sees as a boy of not yet sixteen years (it is nearly certain that he must have been twenty already) weakened by fever, but nevertheless resolute and sensible in refusing. he has persuaded his brother to fly with him and to go to a university. the one guardian is a narrow-minded tyrant, the other, winckel's brother, a merchant, a frivolous coaxer. peter, the elder of the youths, yields first and enters the monastery of sion, near delft (of the order of the regular augustinian canons), where the guardian had found a place for him. erasmus resisted longer. only after a visit to the monastery of steyn or emmaus, near gouda, belonging to the same order, where he found a schoolfellow from deventer, who pointed out the bright side of monastic life, did erasmus yield and enter steyn, where soon after, probably in , he took the vows. chapter ii in the monastery - erasmus as an augustinian canon at steyn--his friends--letters to servatius--humanism in the monasteries: latin poetry-- aversion to cloister-life--he leaves steyn to enter the service of the bishop of cambray: --james batt-- _antibarbari_--he gets leave to study at paris: in his later life--under the influence of the gnawing regret which his monkhood and all the trouble he took to escape from it caused him--the picture of all the events leading up to his entering the convent became distorted in his mind. brother peter, to whom he still wrote in a cordial vein from steyn, became a worthless fellow, even his evil spirit, a judas. the schoolfellow whose advice had been decisive now appeared a traitor, prompted by self-interest, who himself had chosen convent-life merely out of laziness and the love of good cheer. the letters that erasmus wrote from steyn betray no vestige of his deep-seated aversion to monastic life, which afterwards he asks us to believe he had felt from the outset. we may, of course, assume that the supervision of his superiors prevented him from writing all that was in his heart, and that in the depths of his being there had always existed the craving for freedom and for more civilized intercourse than steyn could offer. still he must have found in the monastery some of the good things that his schoolfellow had led him to expect. that at this period he should have written a 'praise of monastic life', 'to please a friend who wanted to decoy a cousin', as he himself says, is one of those naïve assertions, invented afterwards, of which erasmus never saw the unreasonable quality. he found at steyn a fair degree of freedom, some food for an intellect craving for classic antiquity, and friendships with men of the same turn of mind. there were three who especially attracted him. of the schoolfellow who had induced him to become a monk, we hear no more. his friends are servatius roger of rotterdam and william hermans of gouda, both his companions at steyn, and the older cornelius gerard of gouda, usually called aurelius (a quasi-latinization of goudanus), who spent most of his time in the monastery of lopsen, near leyden. with them he read and conversed sociably and jestingly; with them he exchanged letters when they were not together. out of the letters to servatius there rises the picture of an erasmus whom we shall never find again--a young man of more than feminine sensitiveness; of a languishing need for sentimental friendship. in writing to servatius, erasmus runs the whole gamut of an ardent lover. as often as the image of his friend presents itself to his mind tears break from his eyes. weeping he re-reads his friend's letter every hour. but he is mortally dejected and anxious, for the friend proves averse to this excessive attachment. 'what do you want from me?' he asks. 'what is wrong with you?' the other replies. erasmus cannot bear to find that this friendship is not fully returned. 'do not be so reserved; do tell me what is wrong! i repose my hope in you alone; i have become yours so completely that you have left me naught of myself. you know my pusillanimity, which when it has no one on whom to lean and rest, makes me so desperate that life becomes a burden.' let us remember this. erasmus never again expresses himself so passionately. he has given us here the clue by which we may understand much of what he becomes in his later years. these letters have sometimes been taken as mere literary exercises; the weakness they betray and the complete absence of all reticence, seem to tally ill with his habit of cloaking his most intimate feelings which, afterwards, erasmus never quite relinquishes. dr. allen, who leaves this question undecided, nevertheless inclines to regard the letters as sincere effusions, and to me they seem so, incontestably. this exuberant friendship accords quite well with the times and the person. sentimental friendships were as much in vogue in secular circles during the fifteenth century as towards the end of the eighteenth century. each court had its pairs of friends, who dressed alike, and shared room, bed, and heart. nor was this cult of fervent friendship restricted to the sphere of aristocratic life. it was among the specific characteristics of the _devotio moderna_, as, for the rest, it seems from its very nature to be inseparably bound up with pietism. to observe one another with sympathy, to watch and note each other's inner life, was a customary and approved occupation among the brethren of the common life and the windesheim monks. and though steyn and sion were not of the windesheim congregation, the spirit of the _devotio moderna_ was prevalent there. as for erasmus himself, he has rarely revealed the foundation of his character more completely than when he declared to servatius: 'my mind is such that i think nothing can rank higher than friendship in this life, nothing should be desired more ardently, nothing should be treasured more jealously'. a violent affection of a similar nature troubled him even at a later date when the purity of his motives was questioned. afterwards he speaks of youth as being used to conceive a fervent affection for certain comrades. moreover, the classic examples of friends, orestes and pylades, damon and pythias, theseus and pirithous, as also david and jonathan, were ever present before his mind's eye. a young and very tender heart, marked by many feminine traits, replete with all the sentiment and with all the imaginings of classic literature, who was debarred from love and found himself placed against his wish in a coarse and frigid environment, was likely to become somewhat excessive in his affections. he was obliged to moderate them. servatius would have none of so jealous and exacting a friendship and, probably at the cost of more humiliation and shame than appears in his letters, young erasmus resigns himself, to be more guarded in expressing his feelings in the future. the sentimental erasmus disappears for good and presently makes room for the witty latinist, who surpasses his older friends, and chats with them about poetry and literature, advises them about their latin style, and lectures them if necessary. the opportunities for acquiring the new taste for classic antiquity cannot have been so scanty at deventer, and in the monastery itself, as erasmus afterwards would have us believe, considering the authors he already knew at this time. we may conjecture, also, that the books left by his father, possibly brought by him from italy, contributed to erasmus's culture, though it would be strange that, prone as he was to disparage his schools and his monastery, he should not have mentioned the fact. moreover, we know that the humanistic knowledge of his youth was not exclusively his own, in spite of all he afterwards said about dutch ignorance and obscurantism. cornelius aurelius and william hermans likewise possessed it. in a letter to cornelius he mentions the following authors as his poetic models--virgil, horace, ovid, juvenal, statius, martial, claudian, persius, lucan, tibullus, propertius. in prose he imitates cicero, quintilian, sallust, and terence, whose metrical character had not yet been recognized. among italian humanists he was especially acquainted with lorenzo valla, who on account of his _elegantiae_ passed with him for the pioneer of _bonae literae_; but filelfo, aeneas sylvius, guarino, poggio, and others, were also not unknown to him. in ecclesiastical literature he was particularly well read in jerome. it remains remarkable that the education which erasmus received in the schools of the _devotio moderna_ with their ultra-puritanical object, their rigid discipline intent on breaking the personality, could produce such a mind as he manifests in his monastic period--the mind of an accomplished humanist. he is only interested in writing latin verses and in the purity of his latin style. we look almost in vain for piety in the correspondence with cornelius of gouda and william hermans. they manipulate with ease the most difficult latin metres and the rarest terms of mythology. their subject-matter is bucolic or amatory, and, if devotional, their classicism deprives it of the accent of piety. the prior of the neighbouring monastery of hem, at whose request erasmus sang the archangel michael, did not dare to paste up his sapphic ode: it was so 'poetic', he thought, as to seem almost greek. in those days poetic meant classic. erasmus himself thought he had made it so bald that it was nearly prose--'the times were so barren, then', he afterwards sighed. these young poets felt themselves the guardians of a new light amidst the dullness and barbarism which oppressed them. they readily believed each other's productions to be immortal, as every band of youthful poets does, and dreamt of a future of poetic glory for steyn by which it would vie with mantua. their environment of clownish, narrow-minded conventional divines--for as such they saw them--neither acknowledged nor encouraged them. erasmus's strong propensity to fancy himself menaced and injured tinged this position with the martyrdom of oppressed talent. to cornelius he complains in fine horatian measure of the contempt in which poetry was held; his fellow-monk orders him to let his pen, accustomed to writing poetry, rest. consuming envy forces him to give up making verses. a horrid barbarism prevails, the country laughs at the laurel-bringing art of high-seated apollo; the coarse peasant orders the learned poet to write verses. 'though i had mouths as many as the stars that twinkle in the silent firmament on quiet nights, or as many as the roses that the mild gale of spring strews on the ground, i could not complain of all the evils by which the sacred art of poetry is oppressed in these days. i am tired of writing poetry.' of this effusion cornelius made a dialogue which highly pleased erasmus. though in this art nine-tenths may be rhetorical fiction and sedulous imitation, we ought not, on that account, to undervalue the enthusiasm inspiring the young poets. let us, who have mostly grown blunt to the charms of latin, not think too lightly of the elation felt by one who, after learning this language out of the most absurd primers and according to the most ridiculous methods, nevertheless discovered it in its purity, and afterwards came to handle it in the charming rhythm of some artful metre, in the glorious precision of its structure and in all the melodiousness of its sound. [illustration: i. erasmus at the age of ] [illustration: ii. view of rotterdam, early sixteenth century] nec si quot placidis ignea noctibus scintillant tacito sydera culmine, nec si quot tepidum flante favonio ver suffundit humo rosas, tot sint ora mihi... was it strange that the youth who could say this felt himself a poet?--or who, together with his friend, could sing of spring in a meliboean song of fifty distichs? pedantic work, if you like, laboured literary exercises, and yet full of the freshness and the vigour which spring from the latin itself. out of these moods was to come the first comprehensive work that erasmus was to undertake, the manuscript of which he was afterwards to lose, to recover in part, and to publish only after many years--the _antibarbari_, which he commenced at steyn, according to dr. allen. in the version in which eventually the first book of the _antibarbari_ appeared, it reflects, it is true, a somewhat later phase of erasmus's life, that which began after he had left the monastery; neither is the comfortable tone of his witty defence of profane literature any longer that of the poet at steyn. but the ideal of a free and noble life of friendly intercourse and the uninterrupted study of the ancients had already occurred to him within the convent walls. in the course of years those walls probably hemmed him in more and more closely. neither learned and poetic correspondence nor the art of painting with which he occupied himself,[ ] together with one sasboud, could sweeten the oppression of monastic life and a narrow-minded, unfriendly environment. of the later period of his life in the monastery, no letters at all have been preserved, according to dr. allen's carefully considered dating. had he dropped his correspondence out of spleen, or had his superiors forbidden him to keep it up, or are we merely left in the dark because of accidental loss? we know nothing about the circumstances and the frame of mind in which erasmus was ordained on april , by the bishop of utrecht, david of burgundy. perhaps his taking holy orders was connected with his design to leave the monastery. he himself afterwards declared that he had but rarely read mass. he got his chance to leave the monastery when offered the post of secretary to the bishop of cambray, henry of bergen. erasmus owed this preferment to his fame as a latinist and a man of letters; for it was with a view to a journey to rome, where the bishop hoped to obtain a cardinal's hat, that erasmus entered his service. the authorization of the bishop of utrecht had been obtained, and also that of the prior and the general of the order. of course, there was no question yet of taking leave for good, since, as the bishop's servant, erasmus continued to wear his canon's dress. he had prepared for his departure in the deepest secrecy. there is something touching in the glimpse we get of his friend and fellow-poet, william hermans, waiting in vain outside of gouda to see his friend just for a moment, when on his way south he would pass the town. it seems there had been consultations between them as to leaving steyn together, and erasmus, on his part, had left him ignorant of his plans. william had to console himself with the literature that might be had at steyn. * * * * * erasmus, then twenty-five years old--for in all probability the year when he left the monastery was --now set foot on the path of a career that was very common and much coveted at that time: that of an intellectual in the shadow of the great. his patron belonged to one of the numerous belgian noble families, which had risen in the service of the burgundians and were interestedly devoted to the prosperity of that house. the glimes were lords of the important town of bergen-op-zoom, which, situated between the river scheldt and the meuse delta, was one of the links between the northern and the southern netherlands. henry, the bishop of cambray, had just been appointed chancellor of the order of the golden fleece, the most distinguished spiritual dignity at court, which although now habsburg in fact, was still named after burgundy. the service of such an important personage promised almost unbounded honour and profit. many a man would under the circumstances, at the cost of some patience, some humiliation, and a certain laxity of principle, have risen even to be a bishop. but erasmus was never a man to make the most of his situation. serving the bishop proved to be rather a disappointment. erasmus had to accompany him on his frequent migrations from one residence to another in bergen, brussels, or mechlin. he was very busy, but the exact nature of his duties is unknown. the journey to rome, the acme of things desirable to every divine or student, did not come off. the bishop, although taking a cordial interest in him for some months, was less accommodating than he had expected. and so we shortly find erasmus once more in anything but a cheerful frame of mind. 'the hardest fate,' he calls his own, which robs him of all his old sprightliness. opportunities to study he has none. he now envies his friend william, who at steyn in the little cell can write beautiful poetry, favoured by his 'lucky stars'. it befits him, erasmus, only to weep and sigh; it has already so dulled his mind and withered his heart that his former studies no longer appeal to him. there is rhetorical exaggeration in this and we shall not take his pining for the monastery too seriously, but still it is clear that deep dejection had mastered him. contact with the world of politics and ambition had probably unsettled erasmus. he never had any aptitude for it. the hard realities of life frightened and distressed him. when forced to occupy himself with them he saw nothing but bitterness and confusion about him. 'where is gladness or repose? wherever i turn my eyes i only see disaster and harshness. and in such a bustle and clamour about me you wish me to find leisure for the work of the muses?' real leisure erasmus was never to find during his life. all his reading, all his writing, he did hastily, _tumultuarie_, as he calls it repeatedly. yet he must nevertheless have worked with intensest concentration and an incredible power of assimilation. whilst staying with the bishop he visited the monastery of groenendael near brussels, where in former times ruysbroeck wrote. possibly erasmus did not hear the inmates speak of ruysbroeck and he would certainly have taken little pleasure in the writings of the great mystic. but in the library he found the works of st. augustine and these he devoured. the monks of groenendael were surprised at his diligence. he took the volumes with him even to his bedroom. he occasionally found time to compose at this period. at halsteren, near bergen-op-zoom, where the bishop had a country house, he revised the _antibarbari_, begun at steyn, and elaborated it in the form of a dialogue. it would seem as if he sought compensation for the agitation of his existence in an atmosphere of idyllic repose and cultured conversation. he conveys us to the scene (he will afterwards use it repeatedly) which ever remained the ideal pleasure of life to him: a garden or a garden house outside the town, where in the gladness of a fine day a small number of friends meet to talk during a simple meal or a quiet walk, in platonic serenity, about things of the mind. the personages whom he introduces, besides himself, are his best friends. they are the valued and faithful friend whom he got to know at bergen, james batt, schoolmaster and afterwards also clerk of that town, and his old friend william hermans of steyn, whose literary future he continued somewhat to promote. william, arriving unexpectedly from holland, meets the others, who are later joined by the burgomaster of bergen and the town physician. in a lightly jesting, placid tone they engage in a discussion about the appreciation of poetry and literature--latin literature. these are not incompatible with true devotion, as barbarous dullness wants us to believe. a cloud of witnesses is there to prove it, among them and above all st. augustine, whom erasmus had studied recently, and st. jerome, with whom erasmus had been longer acquainted and whose mind was, indeed, more congenial to him. solemnly, in ancient roman guise, war is declared on the enemies of classic culture. o ye goths, by what right do you occupy, not only the latin provinces (the _disciplinae liberales_ are meant) but the capital, that is latinity itself? it was batt who, when his prospects with the bishop of cambray ended in disappointment, helped to find a way out for erasmus. he himself had studied at paris, and thither erasmus also hoped to go, now that rome was denied him. the bishop's consent and the promise of a stipend were obtained and erasmus departed for the most famous of all universities, that of paris, probably in the late summer of . batt's influence and efforts had procured him this lucky chance. footnotes: [ ] allen no. . cf. iv p. xx, and _vide_ lb. iv , where surveying the years of his youth he also writes 'pingere dum meditor tenueis sine corpore formas'. chapter iii the university of paris - the university of paris--traditions and schools of philosophy and theology--the college of montaigu--erasmus's dislike of scholasticism--relations with the humanist, robert gaguin, --how to earn a living--first drafts of several of his educational works--travelling to holland and back--batt and the lady of veere--to england with lord mountjoy: the university of paris was, more than any other place in christendom, the scene of the collision and struggle of opinions and parties. university life in the middle ages was in general tumultuous and agitated. the forms of scientific intercourse themselves entailed an element of irritability: never-ending disputations, frequent elections and rowdyism of the students. to those were added old and new quarrels of all sorts of orders, schools and groups. the different colleges contended among themselves, the secular clergy were at variance with the regular. the thomists and the scotists, together called the ancients, had been disputing at paris for half a century with the terminists, or moderns, the followers of ockam and buridan. in some sort of peace was concluded between those two groups. both schools were on their last legs, stuck fast in sterile technical disputes, in systematizing and subdividing, a method of terms and words by which science and philosophy benefited no longer. the theological colleges of the dominicans and franciscans at paris were declining; theological teaching was taken over by the secular colleges of navarre and sorbonne, but in the old style. the general traditionalism had not prevented humanism from penetrating paris also during the last quarter of the fifteenth century. refinement of latin style and the taste for classic poetry here, too, had their fervent champions, just as revived platonism, which had sprung up in italy. the parisian humanists were partly italians as girolamo balbi and fausto andrelini, but at that time a frenchman was considered to be their leader, robert gaguin, general of the order of the mathurins or trinitarians, diplomatist, french poet and humanist. side by side with the new platonism a clearer understanding of aristotle penetrated, which had also come from italy. shortly before erasmus's arrival jacques lefèvre d'Étaples had returned from italy, where he had visited the platonists, such as marsilio ficino, pico della mirandola, and ermolao barbaro, the reviver of aristotle. though theoretical theology and philosophy generally were conservative at paris, yet here as well as elsewhere movements to reform the church were not wanting. the authority of jean gerson, the university's great chancellor (about ), had not yet been forgotten. but reform by no means meant inclination to depart from the doctrine of the church; it aimed, in the first place, at restoration and purification of the monastic orders and afterwards at the extermination of abuses which the church acknowledged and lamented as existing within its fold. in that spirit of reformation of spiritual life the dutch movement of the _devotio moderna_ had recently begun to make itself felt, also, at paris. the chief of its promoters was john standonck of mechlin, educated by the brethren of the common life at gouda and imbued with their spirit in its most rigorous form. he was an ascetic more austere than the spirit of the windesheimians, strict indeed but yet moderate, required; far beyond ecclesiastical circles his name was proverbial on account of his abstinence--he had definitely denied himself the use of meat. as provisor of the college of montaigu he had instituted the most stringent rules there, enforced by chastisement for the slightest faults. to the college he had annexed a home for poor scholars, where they lived in a semi-monastic community. to this man erasmus had been recommended by the bishop of cambray. though he did not join the community of poor students--he was nearly thirty years old--he came to know all the privations of the system. they embittered the earlier part of his stay at paris and instilled in him a deep, permanent aversion to abstinence and austerity. had he come to paris for this--to experience the dismal and depressing influences of his youth anew in a more stringent form? the purpose for which erasmus went to paris was chiefly to obtain the degree of doctor of theology. this was not too difficult for him: as a regular he was exempt from previous study in the faculty of arts, and his learning and astonishing intelligence and energy enabled him to prepare in a short time for the examinations and disputations required. yet he did not attain this object at paris. his stay, which with interruptions lasted, first till , to be continued later, became to him a period of difficulties and exasperations, of struggle to make his way by all the humiliating means which at the time were indispensable to that end; of dawning success, too, which, however, failed to gratify him. the first cause of his reverses was a physical one; he could not endure the hard life in the college of montaigu. the addled eggs and squalid bedrooms stuck in his memory all his life; there he thinks he contracted the beginnings of his later infirmity. in the _colloquia_ he has commemorated with abhorrence standonck's system of abstinence, privation and chastisement. for the rest his stay there lasted only until the spring of . meanwhile he had begun his theological studies. he attended lectures on the bible and on the book of the sentences, the medieval handbook of theology and still the one most frequently used. he was even allowed to give some lessons in the college on holy scripture. he preached a few sermons in honour of the saints, probably in the neighbouring abbey of st. geneviève. but his heart was not in all this. the subtleties of the schools could not please him. that aversion to all scholasticism, which he rejected in one sweeping condemnation, struck root in his mind, which, however broad, always judged unjustly that for which it had no room. 'those studies can make a man opinionated and contentious; can they make him wise? they exhaust the mind by a certain jejune and barren subtlety, without fertilizing or inspiring it. by their stammering and by the stains of their impure style they disfigure theology which had been enriched and adorned by the eloquence of the ancients. they involve everything whilst trying to resolve everything.' 'scotist', with erasmus, became a handy epithet for all schoolmen, nay, for everything superannuated and antiquated. he would rather lose the whole of scotus than cicero's or plutarch's works. these he feels the better for reading, whereas he rises from the study of scholasticism frigidly disposed towards true virtue, but irritated into a disputatious mood. it would, no doubt, have been difficult for erasmus to find in the arid traditionalism which prevailed in the university of paris the heyday of scholastic philosophy and theology. from the disputations which he heard in the sorbonne he brought back nothing but the habit of scoffing at doctors of theology, or as he always ironically calls them by their title of honour: _magistri nostri_. yawning, he sat among 'those holy scotists' with their wrinkled brows, staring eyes, and puzzled faces, and on his return home he writes a disrespectful fantasy to his young friend thomas grey, telling him how he sleeps the sleep of epimenides with the divines of the sorbonne. epimenides awoke after his forty-seven years of slumber, but the majority of our present theologians will never wake up. what may epimenides have dreamt? what but subtleties of the scotists: quiddities, formalities, etc.! epimenides himself was reborn in scotus, or rather, epimenides was scotus's prototype. for did not he, too, write theological books, in which he tied such syllogistic knots as he would never have been able to loosen? the sorbonne preserves epimenides's skin written over with mysterious letters, as an oracle which men may only see after having borne the title of _magister noster_ for fifteen years. it is not a far cry from caricatures like these to the _sorbonistres_ and the _barbouillamenta scoti_ of rabelais. 'it is said', thus erasmus concludes his _boutade_, 'that no one can understand the mysteries of this science who has had the least intercourse with the muses or the graces. all that you have learned in the way of _bonae literae_ has to be unlearned first; if you have drunk of helicon you must first vomit the draught. i do my utmost to say nothing according to the latin taste, and nothing graceful or witty; and i am already making progress, and there is hope that one day they will acknowledge erasmus.' it was not only the dryness of the method and the barrenness of the system which revolted erasmus. it was also the qualities of his own mind, which, in spite of all its breadth and acuteness, did not tend to penetrate deeply into philosophical or dogmatic speculations. for it was not only scholasticism that repelled him; the youthful platonism and the rejuvenated aristotelianism taught by lefèvre d'Étaples also failed to attract him. for the present he remained a humanist of aesthetic bias, with the substratum of a biblical and moral disposition, resting mainly on the study of his favourite jerome. for a long time to come erasmus considered himself, and also introduced himself, as a poet and an orator, by which latter term he meant what we call a man of letters. immediately on arriving at paris he must have sought contact with the headquarters of literary humanism. the obscure dutch regular introduced himself in a long letter (not preserved) full of eulogy, accompanied by a much-laboured poem, to the general, not only of the trinitarians but, at the same time, of parisian humanists, robert gaguin. the great man answered very obligingly: 'from your lyrical specimen i conclude that you are a scholar; my friendship is at your disposal; do not be so profuse in your praise, that looks like flattery'. the correspondence had hardly begun when erasmus found a splendid opportunity to render this illustrious personage a service and, at the same time, in the shadow of his name, make himself known to the reading public. the matter is also of importance because it affords us an opportunity, for the first time, to notice the connection that is always found between erasmus's career as a man of letters and a scholar and the technical conditions of the youthful art of printing. gaguin was an all-round man and his latin text-book of the history of france, _de origine et gestis francorum compendium_, was just being printed. it was the first specimen of humanistic historiography in france. the printer had finished his work on september , but of the leaves, two remained blank. this was not permissible according to the notions of that time. gaguin was ill and could not help matters. by judicious spacing the compositor managed to fill up folio with a poem by gaguin, the colophon and two panegyrics by faustus andrelinus and another humanist. even then there was need of matter, and erasmus dashed into the breach and furnished a long commendatory letter, completely filling the superfluous blank space of folio .[ ] in this way his name and style suddenly became known to the numerous public which was interested in gaguin's historical work, and at the same time he acquired another title to gaguin's protection, on whom the exceptional qualities of erasmus's diction had evidently not been lost. that his history would remain known chiefly because it had been a stepping stone to erasmus, gaguin could hardly have anticipated. although erasmus had now, as a follower of gaguin, been introduced into the world of parisian humanists, the road to fame, which had latterly begun to lead through the printing press, was not yet easy for him. he showed the _antibarbari_ to gaguin, who praised them, but no suggestion of publication resulted. a slender volume of latin poems by erasmus was published in paris in , dedicated to hector boys, a scotchman, with whom he had become acquainted at montaigu. but the more important writings at which he worked during his stay in paris all appeared in print much later. while intercourse with men like robert gaguin and faustus andrelinus might be honourable, it was not directly profitable. the support of the bishop of cambray was scantier than he wished. in the spring of he fell ill and left paris. going first to bergen, he had a kind welcome from his patron, the bishop; and then, having recovered his health, he went on to holland to his friends. it was his intention to stay there, he says. the friends themselves, however, urged him to return to paris, which he did in the autumn of . he carried poetry by william hermans and a letter from this poet to gaguin. a printer was found for the poems and erasmus also brought his friend and fellow-poet into contact with faustus andrelinus. the position of a man who wished to live by intellectual labour was far from easy at that time and not always dignified. he had either to live on church prebends or on distinguished patrons, or on both. but such a prebend was difficult to get and patrons were uncertain and often disappointing. the publishers paid considerable copy-fees only to famous authors. as a rule the writer received a number of copies of his work and that was all. his chief advantage came from a dedication to some distinguished personage, who could compliment him for it with a handsome gift. there were authors who made it a practice to dedicate the same work repeatedly to different persons. erasmus has afterwards defended himself explicitly from that suspicion and carefully noted how many of those whom he honoured with a dedication gave nothing or very little. the first need, therefore, to a man in erasmus's circumstances was to find a maecenas. maecenas with the humanists was almost synonymous with paymaster. under the adage _ne bos quidem pereat_ erasmus has given a description of the decent way of obtaining a maecenas. consequently, when his conduct in these years appears to us to be actuated, more than once, by an undignified pushing spirit, we should not gauge it by our present standards. these were his years of weakness. on his return to paris he did not again lodge in montaigu. he tried to make a living by giving lessons to young men of fortune. a merchant's sons of lübeck, christian and henry northoff, who lodged with one augustine vincent, were his pupils. he composed beautiful letters for them, witty, fluent and a trifle scented. at the same time he taught two young englishmen, thomas grey and robert fisher, and conceived such a doting affection for grey as to lead to trouble with the youth's guardian, a scotchman, by whom erasmus was excessively vexed. paris did not fail to exercise its refining influence on erasmus. it made his style affectedly refined and sparkling--he pretends to disdain the rustic products of his youth in holland. in the meantime, the works through which afterwards his influence was to spread over the whole world began to grow, but only to the benefit of a few readers. they remained unprinted as yet. for the northoffs was composed the little compendium of polite conversation (in latin), _familiarium colloquiorum formulae_, the nucleus of the world-famous _colloquia_. for robert fisher he wrote the first draft of _de conscribendis epistolis_, the great dissertation on the art of letter-writing (latin letters), probably also the paraphrase of valla's _elegantiae_, a treatise on pure latin, which had been a beacon-light of culture to erasmus in his youth. _de copia verborum ac rerum_ was also such a help for beginners, to provide them with a vocabulary and abundance of turns and expressions; and also the germs of a larger work: _de ratione studii_, a manual for arranging courses of study, lay in the same line. it was a life of uncertainty and unrest. the bishop gave but little support. erasmus was not in good health and felt continually depressed. he made plans for a journey to italy, but did not see much chance of effecting them. in the summer of he again travelled to holland and to the bishop. in holland his friends were little pleased with his studies. it was feared that he was contracting debts at paris. current reports about him were not favourable. he found the bishop, in the commotion of his departure for england on a mission, irritable and full of complaints. it became more and more evident that he would have to look out for another patron. perhaps he might turn to the lady of veere, anna of borselen, with whom his faithful and helpful friend batt had now taken service, as a tutor to her son, in the castle of tournehem, between calais and saint omer. upon his return to paris, erasmus resumed his old life, but it was hateful slavery to him. batt had an invitation for him to come to tournehem, but he could not yet bear to leave paris. here he had now as a pupil the young lord mountjoy, william blount. that meant two strings to his bow. batt is incited to prepare the ground for him with anna of veere; william hermans is charged with writing letters to mountjoy, in which he is to praise the latter's love of literature. 'you should display an erudite integrity, commend me, and proffer your services kindly. believe me, william, your reputation, too, will benefit by it. he is a young man of great authority with his own folk; you will have some one to distribute your writings in england. i pray you again and again, if you love me, take this to heart.' the visit to tournehem took place at the beginning of , followed by another journey to holland. henceforward anna of veere passed for his patroness. in holland he saw his friend william hermans and told him that he thought of leaving for bologna after easter. the dutch journey was one of unrest and bustle; he was in a hurry to return to paris, not to miss any opportunity which mountjoy's affection might offer him. he worked hard at the various writings on which he was engaged, as hard as his health permitted after the difficult journey in winter. he was busily occupied in collecting the money for travelling to italy, now postponed until august. but evidently batt could not obtain as much for him as he had hoped, and, in may, erasmus suddenly gave up the italian plan, and left for england with mountjoy at the latter's request. footnotes: [ ] allen no. , p. , where the particulars of the case are expounded with peculiar acuteness and conclusions drawn with regard to the chronology of erasmus's stay at paris. chapter iv first stay in england - first stay in england: - --oxford: john colet--erasmus's aspirations directed towards divinity--he is as yet mainly a literate--fisher and more--mishap at dover when leaving england: --back in france he composes the _adagia_--years of trouble and penury erasmus's first stay in england, which lasted from the early summer of till the beginning of , was to become for him a period of inward ripening. he came there as an erudite poet, the protégé of a nobleman of rank, on the road to closer contact with the great world which knew how to appreciate and reward literary merit. he left the country with the fervent desire in future to employ his gifts, in so far as circumstances would permit, in more serious tasks. this change was brought about by two new friends whom he found in england, whose personalities were far above those who had hitherto crossed his path: john colet and thomas more. during all the time of his sojourn in england erasmus is in high spirits, for him. at first it is still the man of the world who speaks, the refined man of letters, who must needs show his brilliant genius. aristocratic life, of which he evidently had seen but little at the bishop of cambray's and the lady of veere's at tournehem, pleased him fairly well, it seems. 'here in england', he writes in a light vein to faustus andrelinus, 'we have, indeed, progressed somewhat. the erasmus whom you know is almost a good hunter already, not too bad a horseman, a not unpractised courtier. he salutes a little more courteously, he smiles more kindly. if you are wise, you also will alight here.' and he teases the volatile poet by telling him about the charming girls and the laudable custom, which he found in england, of accompanying all compliments by kisses.[ ] it even fell to his lot to make the acquaintance of royalty. from mountjoy's estate at greenwich, more, in the course of a walk, took him to eltham palace, where the royal children were educated. there he saw, surrounded by the whole royal household, the youthful henry, who was to be henry viii, a boy of nine years, together with two little sisters and a young prince, who was still an infant in arms. erasmus was ashamed that he had nothing to offer and, on returning home, he composed (not without exertion, for he had not written poetry at all for some time) a panegyric on england, which he presented to the prince with a graceful dedication. in october erasmus was at oxford which, at first, did not please him, but whither mountjoy was to follow him. he had been recommended to john colet, who declared that he required no recommendations: he already knew erasmus from the letter to gaguin in the latter's historical work and thought very highly of his learning. there followed during the remainder of erasmus's stay at oxford a lively intercourse, in conversation and in correspondence, which definitely decided the bent of erasmus's many-sided mind. [illustration: iii. john colet, dean of st. paul's] john colet, who did not differ much from erasmus in point of age, had found his intellectual path earlier and more easily. born of well-to-do parents (his father was a london magistrate and twice lord mayor), he had been able leisurely to prosecute his studies. not seduced by quite such a brilliant genius as erasmus possessed into literary digressions, he had from the beginning fixed his attention on theology. he knew plato and plotinus, though not in greek, was very well read in the older fathers and also respectably acquainted with scholasticism, not to mention his knowledge of mathematics, law, history and the english poets. in he had established himself at oxford. without possessing a degree in divinity, he expounded st. paul's epistles. although, owing to his ignorance of greek, he was restricted to the vulgate, he tried to penetrate to the original meaning of the sacred texts, discarding the later commentaries. colet had a deeply serious nature, always warring against the tendencies of his vigorous being, and he kept within bounds his pride and the love of pleasure. he had a keen sense of humour, which, without doubt, endeared him to erasmus. he was an enthusiast. when defending a point in theology his ardour changed the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, and a lofty spirit permeated his whole person. [illustration: iv. sir thomas more, ] out of his intercourse with colet came the first of erasmus's theological writings. at the end of a discussion regarding christ's agony in the garden of gethsemane, in which erasmus had defended the usual view that christ's fear of suffering proceeded from his human nature, colet had exhorted him to think further about the matter. they exchanged letters about it and finally erasmus committed both their opinions to paper in the form of a 'little disputation concerning the anguish, fear and sadness of jesus', _disputatiuncula de tedio, pavore, tristicia jesu_, etc., being an elaboration of these letters. while the tone of this pamphlet is earnest and pious, it is not truly fervent. the man of letters is not at once and completely superseded. 'see, colet,' thus erasmus ends his first letter, referring half ironically to himself, 'how i can observe the rules of propriety in concluding such a theologic disputation with poetic fables (he had made use of a few mythologic metaphors). but as horace says, _naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret_.' this ambiguous position which erasmus still occupied, also in things of the mind, appears still more clearly from the report which he sent to his new friend, the frisian john sixtin, a latin poet like himself, of another disputation with colet, at a repast, probably in the hall of magdalen college, where wolsey, too, was perhaps present. to his fellow-poet, erasmus writes as a poet, loosely and with some affectation. it was a meal such as he liked, and afterwards frequently pictured in his _colloquies_: cultured company, good food, moderate drinking, noble conversation. colet presided. on his right hand sat the prior charnock of st. mary's college, where erasmus resided (he had also been present at the disputation about christ's agony). on his left was a divine whose name is not mentioned, an advocate of scholasticism; next to him came erasmus, 'that the poet should not be wanting at the banquet'. the discussion was about cain's guilt by which he displeased the lord. colet defended the opinion that cain had injured god by doubting the creator's goodness, and, in reliance on his own industry, tilling the earth, whereas abel tended the sheep and was content with what grew of itself. the divine contended with syllogisms, erasmus with arguments of 'rhetoric'. but colet kindled, and got the better of both. after a while, when the dispute had lasted long enough and had become more serious than was suitable for table-talk--'then i said, in order to play my part, the part of the poet that is--to abate the contention and at the same time cheer the meal with a pleasant tale: "it is a very old story, it has to be unearthed from the very oldest authors. i will tell you what i found about it in literature, if you will promise me first that you will not look upon it as a fable."' and now he relates a witty story of some very ancient codex in which he had read how cain, who had often heard his parents speak of the glorious vegetation of paradise, where the ears of corn were as high as the alders with us, had prevailed upon the angel who guarded it, to give him some paradisal grains. god would not mind it, if only he left the apples alone. the speech by which the angel is incited to disobey the almighty is a masterpiece of erasmian wit. 'do you find it pleasant to stand there by the gate with a big sword? we have just begun to use dogs for that sort of work. it is not so bad on earth and it will be better still; we shall learn, no doubt, to cure diseases. what that forbidden knowledge matters i do not see very clearly. though, in that matter, too, unwearied industry surmounts all obstacles.' in this way the guardian is seduced. but when god beholds the miraculous effect of cain's agricultural management, punishment does not fail to ensue. a more delicate way of combining genesis and the prometheus myth no humanist had yet invented. but still, though erasmus went on conducting himself as a man of letters among his fellow-poets, his heart was no longer in those literary exercises. it is one of the peculiarities of erasmus's mental growth that it records no violent crises. we never find him engaged in those bitter inward struggles which are in the experience of so many great minds. his transition from interest in literary matters to interest in religious matters is not in the nature of a process of conversion. there is no tarsus in erasmus's life. the transition takes place gradually and is never complete. for many years to come erasmus can, without suspicion of hypocrisy, at pleasure, as his interests or his moods require, play the man of letters or the theologian. he is a man with whom the deeper currents of the soul gradually rise to the surface; who raises himself to the height of his ethical consciousness under the stress of circumstances, rather than at the spur of some irresistible impulse. the desire to turn only to matters of faith he shows early. 'i have resolved', he writes in his monastic period to cornelius of gouda, 'to write no more poems in the future, except such as savour of praise of the saints, or of sanctity itself.' but that was the youthful pious resolve of a moment. during all the years previous to the first voyage to england, erasmus's writings, and especially his letters, betray a worldly disposition. it only leaves him in moments of illness and weariness. then the world displeases him and he despises his own ambition; he desires to live in holy quiet, musing on scripture and shedding tears over his old errors. but these are utterances inspired by the occasion, which one should not take too seriously. it was colet's word and example which first changed erasmus's desultory occupation with theological studies into a firm and lasting resolve to make their pursuit the object of his life. colet urged him to expound the pentateuch or the prophet isaiah at oxford, just as he himself treated of paul's epistles. erasmus declined; he could not do it. this bespoke insight and self-knowledge, by which he surpassed colet. the latter's intuitive scripture interpretation without knowledge of the original language failed to satisfy erasmus. 'you are acting imprudently, my dear colet, in trying to obtain water from a pumice-stone (in the words of plautus). how shall i be so impudent as to teach that which i have not learned myself? how shall i warm others while shivering and trembling with cold?... you complain that you find yourself deceived in your expectations regarding me. but i have never promised you such a thing; you have deceived yourself by refusing to believe me when i was telling you the truth regarding myself. neither did i come here to teach poetics or rhetoric (colet had hinted at that); these have ceased to be sweet to me, since they ceased to be necessary to me. i decline the one task because it does not come up to my aim in life; the other because it is beyond my strength ... but when, one day, i shall be conscious that the necessary power is in me, i, too, shall choose your part and devote to the assertion of divinity, if no excellent, yet sincere labour.' the inference which erasmus drew first of all was that he should know greek better than he had thus far been able to learn it. meanwhile his stay in england was rapidly drawing to a close; he had to return to paris. towards the end of his sojourn he wrote to his former pupil, robert fisher, who was in italy, in a high-pitched tone about the satisfaction which he experienced in england. a most pleasant and wholesome climate (he was most sensitive to it); so much humanity and erudition--not of the worn-out and trivial sort, but of the recondite, genuine, ancient, latin and greek stamp--that he need hardly any more long to go to italy. in colet he thought he heard plato himself. grocyn, the grecian scholar; linacre, the learned physician, who would not admire them! and whose spirit was ever softer, sweeter or happier than that of thomas more! a disagreeable incident occurred as erasmus was leaving english soil in january . unfortunately it not only obscured his pleasant memories of the happy island, but also placed another obstacle in the path of his career, and left in his supersensitive soul a sting which vexed him for years afterwards. the livelihood which he had been gaining at paris of late years was precarious. the support from the bishop had probably been withdrawn; that of anna of veere had trickled but languidly; he could not too firmly rely on mountjoy. under these circumstances a modest fund, some provision against a rainy day, was of the highest consequence. such savings he brought from england, twenty pounds. an act of edward iii, re-enacted by henry vii not long before, prohibited the export of gold and silver, but more and mountjoy had assured erasmus that he could safely take his money with him, if only it was not in english coin. at dover he learned that the custom-house officers were of a different opinion. he might only keep six 'angels'--the rest was left behind in the hands of the officials and was evidently confiscated. the shock which this incident gave him perhaps contributed to his fancying himself threatened by robbers and murderers on the road from calais to paris. the loss of his money plunged him afresh into perplexity as to his support from day to day. it forced him to resume the profession of a _bel esprit_, which he already began to loathe, and to take all the humiliating steps to get what was due to it from patrons. and, above all, it affected his mental balance and his dignity. yet this mishap had its great advantage for the world, and for erasmus, too, after all. to it the world owes the _adagia_; and he the fame, which began with this work. the feelings with which his misfortune at dover inspired erasmus were bitter anger and thirst for revenge. a few months later he writes to batt: 'things with me are as they are wont to be in such cases: the wound received in england begins to smart only now that it has become inveterate, and that the more as i cannot have my revenge in any way'. and six months later, 'i shall swallow it. an occasion may offer itself, no doubt, to be even with them.' yet meanwhile true insight told this man, whose strength did not always attain to his ideals, that the english, whom he had just seen in such a favourable light, let alone his special friends among them, were not accessories to the misfortune. he never reproached more and mountjoy, whose inaccurate information, he tells us, had done the harm. at the same time his interest, which he always saw in the garb of virtue, told him that now especially it would be essential not to break off his relations with england, and that this gave him a splendid chance of strengthening them. afterwards he explained this with a naïveté which often causes his writings, especially where he tries to suppress or cloak matters, to read like confessions. 'returning to paris a poor man, i understood that many would expect i should take revenge with my pen for this mishap, after the fashion of men of letters, by writing something venomous against the king or against england. at the same time i was afraid that william mountjoy, having indirectly caused my loss of money, would be apprehensive of losing my affection. in order, therefore, both to put the expectations of those people to shame, and to make known that i was not so unfair as to blame the country for a private wrong, or so inconsiderate as, because of a small loss, to risk making the king displeased with myself or with my friends in england, and at the same time to give my friend mountjoy a proof that i was no less kindly disposed towards him than before, i resolved to publish something as quickly as possible. as i had nothing ready, i hastily brought together, by a few days' reading, a collection of adagia, in the supposition that such a booklet, however it might turn out, by its mere usefulness would get into the hands of students. in this way i demonstrated that my friendship had not cooled off at all. next, in a poem i subjoined, i protested that i was not angry with the king or with the country at being deprived of my money. and my scheme was not ill received. that moderation and candour procured me a good many friends in england at the time--erudite, upright and influential men.' this is a characteristic specimen of semi-ethical conduct. in this way erasmus succeeded in dealing with his indignation, so that later on he could declare, when the recollection came up occasionally, 'at one blow i had lost all my fortune, but i was so unconcerned that i returned to my books all the more cheerfully and ardently'. but his friends knew how deep the wound had been. 'now (on hearing that henry viii had ascended the throne) surely all bitterness must have suddenly left your soul,' mountjoy writes to him in , possibly through the pen of ammonius. the years after his return to france were difficult ones. he was in great need of money and was forced to do what he could, as a man of letters, with his talents and knowledge. he had again to be the _homo poeticus_ or _rhetoricus_. he writes polished letters full of mythology and modest mendicity. as a poet he had a reputation; as a poet he could expect support. meanwhile the elevating picture of his theological activities remained present before his mind's eye. it nerves him to energy and perseverance. 'it is incredible', he writes to batt, 'how my soul yearns to finish all my works, at the same time becoming somewhat proficient in greek, and afterwards to devote myself entirely to the sacred learning after which my soul has been hankering for a long time. i am in fairly good health, so i shall have to strain every nerve this year ( ) to get the work we gave the printer published, and by dealing with theological problems, to expose our cavillers, who are very numerous, as they deserve. if three more years of life are granted me, i shall be beyond the reach of envy.' here we see him in a frame of mind to accomplish great things, though not merely under the impulse of true devotion. already he sees the restoration of genuine divinity as his task; unfortunately the effusion is contained in a letter in which he instructs the faithful batt as to how he should handle the lady of veere in order to wheedle money out of her. for years to come the efforts to make a living were to cause him almost constant tribulations and petty cares. he had had more than enough of france and desired nothing better than to leave it. part of the year he spent at orléans. adversity made him narrow. there is the story of his relations with augustine vincent caminade, a humanist of lesser rank (he ended as syndic of middelburg), who took young men as lodgers. it is too long to detail here, but remarkable enough as revealing erasmus's psychology, for it shows how deeply he mistrusted his friends. there are also his relations with jacobus voecht, in whose house he evidently lived gratuitously and for whom he managed to procure a rich lodger in the person of an illegitimate brother of the bishop of cambray. at this time, erasmus asserts, the bishop (antimaecenas he now calls him) set standonck to dog him in paris. much bitterness there is in the letters of this period. erasmus is suspicious, irritable, exacting, sometimes rude in writing to his friends. he cannot bear william hermans any longer because of his epicureanism and his lack of energy, to which he, erasmus, certainly was a stranger. but what grieves us most is the way he speaks to honest batt. he is highly praised, certainly. erasmus promises to make him immortal, too. but how offended he is, when batt cannot at once comply with his imperious demands. how almost shameless are his instructions as to what batt is to tell the lady of veere, in order to solicit her favour for erasmus. and how meagre the expressions of his sorrow, when the faithful batt is taken from him by death in the first half of . it is as if erasmus had revenged himself on batt for having been obliged to reveal himself to his true friend in need more completely than he cared to appear to anyone; or for having disavowed to anna of borselen his fundamental convictions, his most refined taste, for the sake of a meagre gratuity. he has paid homage to her in that ponderous burgundian style with which dynasties in the netherlands were familiar, and which must have been hateful to him. he has flattered her formal piety. 'i send you a few prayers, by means of which you could, as by incantations, call down, even against her will, from heaven, so to say, not the moon, but her who gave birth to the sun of justice.' did you smile your delicate smile, o author of the _colloquies_, while writing this? so much the worse for you. footnotes: [ ] allen no. . . cf. _chr. matrim. inst._ lb. v. and _cent nouvelles_ . , 'ung baiser, dont les dames et demoiselles du dit pays d'angleterre sont assez libérales de l'accorder'. chapter v erasmus as a humanist significance of the _adagia_ and similar works of later years--erasmus as a divulger of classical culture-- latin--estrangement from holland--erasmus as a netherlander meanwhile renown came to erasmus as the fruit of those literary studies which, as he said, had ceased to be dear to him. in that work appeared which erasmus had written after his misfortune at dover, and had dedicated to mountjoy, the _adagiorum collectanea_. it was a collection of about eight hundred proverbial sayings drawn from the latin authors of antiquity and elucidated for the use of those who aspired to write an elegant latin style. in the dedication erasmus pointed out the profit an author may derive, both in ornamenting his style and in strengthening his argumentation, from having at his disposal a good supply of sentences hallowed by their antiquity. he proposes to offer such a help to his readers. what he actually gave was much more. he familiarized a much wider circle than the earlier humanists had reached with the spirit of antiquity. until this time the humanists had, to some extent, monopolized the treasures of classic culture, in order to parade their knowledge of which the multitude remained destitute, and so to become strange prodigies of learning and elegance. with his irresistible need of teaching and his sincere love for humanity and its general culture, erasmus introduced the classic spirit, in so far as it could be reflected in the soul of a sixteenth-century christian, among the people. not he alone; but none more extensively and more effectively. not among all the people, it is true, for by writing in latin he limited his direct influence to the educated classes, which in those days were the upper classes. erasmus made current the classic spirit. humanism ceased to be the exclusive privilege of a few. according to beatus rhenanus he had been reproached by some humanists, when about to publish the _adagia_, for divulging the mysteries of their craft. but he desired that the book of antiquity should be open to all. the literary and educational works of erasmus, the chief of which were begun in his parisian period, though most of them appeared much later, have, in truth, brought about a transmutation of the general modes of expression and of argumentation. it should be repeated over and over again that this was not achieved by him single-handed; countless others at that time were similarly engaged. but we have only to cast an eye on the broad current of editions of the _adagia_, of the _colloquia_, etc., to realize of how much greater consequence he was in this respect than all the others. 'erasmus' is the only name in all the host of humanists which has remained a household word all over the globe. here we will anticipate the course of erasmus's life for a moment, to enumerate the principal works of this sort. some years later the _adagia_ increased from hundreds to thousands, through which not only latin, but also greek, wisdom spoke. in he published in the same manner a collection of similitudes, _parabolae_. it was a partial realization of what he had conceived to supplement the _adagia_-- metaphors, saws, allusions, poetical and scriptural allegories, all to be dealt with in a similar way. towards the end of his life he published a similar thesaurus of the witty anecdotes and the striking words or deeds of wisdom of antiquity, the _apophthegmata_. in addition to these collections, we find manuals of a more grammatical nature, also piled up treasury-like: 'on the stock of expressions', _de copia verborum et rerum_, 'on letter-writing', _de conscribendis epistolis_, not to mention works of less importance. by a number of latin translations of greek authors erasmus had rendered a point of prospect accessible to those who did not wish to climb the whole mountain. and, finally, as inimitable models of the manner in which to apply all that knowledge, there were the _colloquia_ and that almost countless multitude of letters which have flowed from erasmus's pen. all this collectively made up antiquity (in such quantity and quality as it was obtainable in the sixteenth century) exhibited in an emporium where it might be had at retail. each student could get what was to his taste; everything was to be had there in a great variety of designs. 'you may read my _adagia_ in such a manner', says erasmus (of the later augmented edition), 'that as soon as you have finished one, you may imagine you have finished the whole book.' he himself made indices to facilitate its use. in the world of scholasticism he alone had up to now been considered an authority who had mastered the technicalities of its system of thought and its mode of expression in all its details and was versed in biblical knowledge, logic and philosophy. between scholastic parlance and the spontaneously written popular languages, there yawned a wide gulf. humanism since petrarch had substituted for the rigidly syllogistic structure of an argument the loose style of the antique, free, suggestive phrase. in this way the language of the learned approached the natural manner of expression of daily life and raised the popular languages, even where it continued to use latin, to its own level. the wealth of subject-matter was found with no one in greater abundance than with erasmus. what knowledge of life, what ethics, all supported by the indisputable authority of the ancients, all expressed in that fine, airy form for which he was admired. and such knowledge of antiquities in addition to all this! illimitable was the craving for and illimitable the power to absorb what is extraordinary in real life. this was one of the principal characteristics of the spirit of the renaissance. these minds never had their desired share of striking incidents, curious details, rarities and anomalies. there was, as yet, no symptom of that mental dyspepsia of later periods, which can no longer digest reality and relishes it no more. men revelled in plenty. and yet, were not erasmus and his fellow-workers as leaders of civilization on a wrong track? was it true reality they were aiming at? was their proud latinity not a fatal error? there is one of the crucial points of history. a present-day reader who should take up the _adagia_ or the _apophthegmata_ with a view to enriching his own life (for they were meant for this purpose and it is what gave them value), would soon ask himself: 'what matter to us, apart from strictly philological or historical considerations, those endless details concerning obscure personages of antique society, of phrygians, of thessalians? they are nothing to me.' and--he will continue--they really mattered nothing to erasmus's contemporaries either. the stupendous history of the sixteenth century was not enacted in classic phrases or turns; it was not based on classic interests or views of life. there were no phrygians and thessalians, no agesilauses or dionysiuses. the humanists created out of all this a mental realm, emancipated from the limitations of time. and did their own times pass without being influenced by them? that is the question, and we shall not attempt to answer it: to what extent did humanism influence the course of events? in any case erasmus and his coadjutors greatly heightened the international character of civilization which had existed throughout the middle ages because of latin and of the church. if they thought they were really making latin a vehicle for daily international use, they overrated their power. it was, no doubt, an amusing fancy and a witty exercise to plan, in such an international _milieu_ as the parisian student world, such models of sports and games in latin as the _colloquiorum formulae_ offered. but can erasmus have seriously thought that the next generation would play at marbles in latin? still, intellectual intercourse undoubtedly became very easy in so wide a circle as had not been within reach in europe since the fall of the roman empire. henceforth it was no longer the clergy alone, and an occasional literate, but a numerous multitude of sons of burghers and nobles, qualifying for some magisterial office, who passed through a grammar-school and found erasmus in their path. erasmus could not have attained to his world-wide celebrity if it had not been for latin. to make his native tongue a universal language was beyond him. it may well puzzle a fellow-countryman of erasmus to guess what a talent like his, with his power of observation, his delicacy of expression, his gusto and wealth, might have meant to dutch literature. just imagine the _colloquia_ written in the racy dutch of the sixteenth century! what could he not have produced if, instead of gleaning and commenting upon classic adagia, he had, for his themes, availed himself of the proverbs of the vernacular? to us such a proverb is perhaps even more sapid than the sometimes slightly finical turns praised by erasmus. this, however, is to reason unhistorically; this was not what the times required and what erasmus could give. it is quite clear why erasmus could only write in latin. moreover, in the vernacular everything would have appeared too direct, too personal, too real, for his taste. he could not do without that thin veil of vagueness, of remoteness, in which everything is wrapped when expressed in latin. his fastidious mind would have shrunk from the pithy coarseness of a rabelais, or the rustic violence of luther's german. estrangement from his native tongue had begun for erasmus as early as the days when he learned reading and writing. estrangement from the land of his birth set in when he left the monastery of steyn. it was furthered not a little by the ease with which he handled latin. erasmus, who could express himself as well in latin as in his mother tongue, and even better, consequently lacked the experience of, after all, feeling thoroughly at home and of being able to express himself fully, only among his compatriots. there was, however, another psychological influence which acted to alienate him from holland. after he had seen at paris the perspectives of his own capacities, he became confirmed in the conviction that holland failed to appreciate him, that it distrusted and slandered him. perhaps there was indeed some ground for this conviction. but, partly, it was also a reaction of injured self-love. in holland people knew too much about him. they had seen him in his smallnesses and feebleness. there he had been obliged to obey others--he who, above all things, wanted to be free. distaste of the narrow-mindedness, the coarseness and intemperance which he knew to prevail there, were summed up, within him, in a general condemnatory judgement of the dutch character. henceforth he spoke as a rule about holland with a sort of apologetic contempt. 'i see that you are content with dutch fame,' he writes to his old friend william hermans, who like cornelius aurelius had begun to devote his best forces to the history of his native country. 'in holland the air is good for me,' he writes elsewhere, 'but the extravagant carousals annoy me; add to this the vulgar uncultured character of the people, the violent contempt of study, no fruit of learning, the most egregious envy.' and excusing the imperfection of his juvenilia, he says: 'at that time i wrote not for italians, but for hollanders, that is to say, for the dullest ears'. and, in another place, 'eloquence is demanded from a dutchman, that is, from a more hopeless person than a b[oe]otian'. and again, 'if the story is not very witty, remember it is a dutch story'. no doubt, false modesty had its share in such sayings. after he visited holland only on hasty journeys. there is no evidence that after he ever set foot on dutch soil. he dissuaded his own compatriots abroad from returning to holland. still, now and again, a cordial feeling of sympathy for his native country stirred within him. just where he would have had an opportunity, in explaining martial's _auris batava_ in the _adagia_, for venting his spleen, he availed himself of the chance of writing an eloquent panegyric on what was dearest to him in holland, 'a country that i am always bound to honour and revere, as that which gave me birth. would i might be a credit to it, just as, on the other hand, i need not be ashamed of it.' their reputed boorishness rather redounds to their honour. 'if a "batavian ear" means a horror of martial's obscene jokes, i could wish that all christians might have dutch ears. when we consider their morals, no nation is more inclined to humanity and benevolence, less savage or cruel. their mind is upright and void of cunning and all humbug. if they are somewhat sensual and excessive at meals, it results partly from their plentiful supply: nowhere is import so easy and fertility so great. what an extent of lush meadows, how many navigable rivers! nowhere are so many towns crowded together within so small an area; not large towns, indeed, but excellently governed. their cleanliness is praised by everybody. nowhere are such large numbers of moderately learned persons found, though extraordinary and exquisite erudition is rather rare.' they were erasmus's own most cherished ideals which he here ascribes to his compatriots--gentleness, sincerity, simplicity, purity. he sounds that note of love for holland on other occasions. when speaking of lazy women, he adds: 'in france there are large numbers of them, but in holland we find countless wives who by their industry support their idling and revelling husbands'. and in the colloquy entitled 'the shipwreck', the people who charitably take in the castaways are hollanders. 'there is no more humane people than this, though surrounded by violent nations.' in addressing english readers it is perhaps not superfluous to point out once again that erasmus when speaking of holland, or using the epithet 'batavian', refers to the county of holland, which at present forms the provinces of north and south holland of the kingdom of the netherlands, and stretches from the wadden islands to the estuaries of the meuse. even the nearest neighbours, such as zealanders and frisians, are not included in this appellation. but it is a different matter when erasmus speaks of _patria_, the fatherland, or of _nostras_, a compatriot. in those days a national consciousness was just budding all over the netherlands. a man still felt himself a hollander, a frisian, a fleming, a brabantine in the first place; but the community of language and customs, and still more the strong political influence which for nearly a century had been exercised by the burgundian dynasty, which had united most of these low countries under its sway, had cemented a feeling of solidarity which did not even halt at the linguistic frontier in belgium. it was still rather a strong burgundian patriotism (even after habsburg had _de facto_ occupied the place of burgundy) than a strictly netherlandish feeling of nationality. people liked, by using a heraldic symbol, to designate the netherlander as 'the lions'. erasmus, too, employs the term. in his works we gradually see the narrower hollandish patriotism gliding into the burgundian netherlandish. in the beginning, _patria_ with him still means holland proper, but soon it meant the netherlands. it is curious to trace how by degrees his feelings regarding holland, made up of disgust and attachment, are transferred to the low countries in general. 'in my youth', he says in , repeating himself, 'i did not write for italians but for hollanders, the people of brabant and flemings.' so they now all share the reputation of bluntness. to louvain is applied what formerly was said of holland: there are too many compotations; nothing can be done without a drinking bout. nowhere, he repeatedly complains, is there so little sense of the _bonae literae_, nowhere is study so despised as in the netherlands, and nowhere are there more cavillers and slanderers. but also his affection has expanded. when longolius of brabant plays the frenchman, erasmus is vexed: 'i devoted nearly three days to longolius; he was uncommonly pleasing, except only that he is too french, whereas it is well known that he is one of us'.[ ] when charles v has obtained the crown of spain, erasmus notes: 'a singular stroke of luck, but i pray that it may also prove a blessing to the fatherland, and not only to the prince'. when his strength was beginning to fail he began to think more and more of returning to his native country. 'king ferdinand invites me, with large promises, to come to vienna,' he writes from basle, october , 'but nowhere would it please me better to rest than in brabant.' [illustration: v. doodles by erasmus in the margin of one of his manuscripts.] [illustration: vi. a manuscript page of erasmus] footnotes: [ ] allen no. . , cf. , intr. p. . later erasmus was made to believe that longolius was a hollander, cf. lbe. a. chapter vi theological aspirations at tournehem: --the restoration of theology now the aim of his life--he learns greek--john vitrier--_enchiridion militis christiani_ the lean years continued with erasmus. his livelihood remained uncertain, and he had no fixed abode. it is remarkable that, in spite of his precarious means of support, his movements were ever guided rather by the care for his health than for his sustenance, and his studies rather by his burning desire to penetrate to the purest sources of knowledge than by his advantage. repeatedly the fear of the plague drives him on: in from paris to orléans, where he first lodges with augustine caminade; but when one of the latter's boarders falls ill, erasmus moves. perhaps it was the impressions dating from his youth at deventer that made him so excessively afraid of the plague, which in those days raged practically without intermission. faustus andrelinus sent a servant to upbraid him in his name with cowardice: 'that would be an intolerable insult', erasmus answers, 'if i were a swiss soldier, but a poet's soul, loving peace and shady places, is proof against it'. in the spring of he leaves paris once more for fear of the plague: 'the frequent burials frighten me', he writes to augustine. he travelled first to holland, where, at steyn, he obtained leave to spend another year outside the monastery, for the sake of study; his friends would be ashamed if he returned, after so many years of study, without having acquired some authority. at haarlem he visited his friend william hermans, then turned to the south, once again to pay his respects to the bishop of cambray, probably at brussels. thence he went to veere, but found no opportunity to talk to his patroness. in july , he subsided into quietness at the castle of tournehem with his faithful friend batt. in all his comings and goings he does not for a moment lose sight of his ideals of study. since his return from england he is mastered by two desires: to edit jerome, the great father of the church, and, especially, to learn greek thoroughly. 'you understand how much all this matters to my fame, nay, to my preservation,' he writes (from orléans towards the end of ) to batt. but, indeed, had erasmus been an ordinary fame and success hunter he might have had recourse to plenty of other expedients. it was the ardent desire to penetrate to the source and to make others understand that impelled him, even when he availed himself of these projects of study to raise a little money. 'listen,' he writes to batt, 'to what more i desire from you. you must wrest a gift from the abbot (of saint bertin). you know the man's disposition; invent some modest and plausible reason for begging. tell him that i purpose something grand, viz., to restore the whole of jerome, however comprehensive he may be, and spoiled, mutilated, entangled by the ignorance of divines; and to re-insert the greek passages. i venture to say, i shall be able to lay open the antiquities and the style of jerome, understood by no one as yet. tell him that i shall want not a few books for the purpose, and moreover the help of greeks, and that therefore i require support. in saying this, battus, you will be telling no lies. for i really mean to do all this.' he was, indeed, in a serious mood on this point, as he was soon to prove to the world. his conquest of greek was a veritable feat of heroism. he had learned the simplest rudiments at deventer, but these evidently amounted to very little. in march, , he writes to batt: 'greek is nearly killing me, but i have no time and i have no money to buy books or to take a master'. when augustine caminade wants his homer back which he had lent to him, erasmus complains: 'you deprive me of my sole consolation in my tedium. for i so burn with love for this author, though i cannot understand him, that i feast my eyes and re-create my mind by looking at him.' was erasmus aware that in saying this he almost literally reproduced feelings which petrarch had expressed a hundred and fifty years before? but he had already begun to study. whether he had a master is not quite clear, but it is probable. he finds the language difficult at first. then gradually he ventures to call himself 'a candidate in this language', and he begins with more confidence to scatter greek quotations through his letters. it occupies him night and day and he urges all his friends to procure greek books for him. in the autumn of he declares that he can properly write all he wants in greek, and that extempore. he was not deceived in his expectation that greek would open his eyes to the right understanding of holy scripture. three years of nearly uninterrupted study amply rewarded him for his trouble. hebrew, which he had also taken up, he abandoned. at that time ( ) he made translations from the greek, he employed it critically in his theological studies, he taught it, amongst others, to william cop, the french physician-humanist. a few years later he was to find little in italy to improve his proficiency in greek; he was afterwards inclined to believe that he carried more of the two ancient languages to that country than he brought back. nothing testifies more to the enthusiasm with which erasmus applied himself to greek than his zeal to make his best friends share in its blessings. batt, he decided, should learn greek. but batt had no time, and latin appealed more to him. when erasmus goes to haarlem to visit william hermans, it is to make him a greek scholar too; he has brought a handbag full of books. but he had only his trouble for his pains. william did not take at all kindly to this study and erasmus was so disappointed that he not only considered his money and trouble thrown away, but also thought he had lost a friend. meanwhile he was still undecided where he should go in the near future. to england, to italy, or back to paris? in the end he made a fairly long stay as a guest, from the autumn of till the following summer, first at saint omer, with the prior of saint bertin, and afterwards at the castle of courtebourne, not far off. at saint omer, erasmus became acquainted with a man whose image he was afterwards to place beside that of colet as that of a true divine, and of a good monk at the same time: jean vitrier, the warden of the franciscan monastery at saint omer. erasmus must have felt attracted to a man who was burdened with a condemnation pronounced by the sorbonne on account of his too frank expressions regarding the abuses of monastic life. vitrier had not given up the life on that account, but he devoted himself to reforming monasteries and convents. having progressed from scholasticism to saint paul, he had formed a very liberal conception of christian life, strongly opposed to practices and ceremonies. this man, without doubt, considerably influenced the origin of one of erasmus's most celebrated and influential works, the _enchiridion militis christiani_. erasmus himself afterwards confessed that the _enchiridion_ was born by chance. he did not reflect that some outward circumstance is often made to serve an inward impulse. the outward circumstance was that the castle of tournehem was frequented by a soldier, a friend of batt, a man of very dissolute conduct, who behaved very badly towards his pious wife, and who was, moreover, an uncultured and violent hater of priests.[ ] for the rest he was of a kindly disposition and excepted erasmus from his hatred of divines. the wife used her influence with batt to get erasmus to write something which might bring her husband to take an interest in religion. erasmus complied with the request and jean vitrier concurred so cordially with the views expressed in these notes that erasmus afterwards elaborated them at louvain; in they were published at antwerp by dirck maertensz. this is the outward genesis of the _enchiridion_. but the inward cause was that sooner or later erasmus was bound to formulate his attitude towards the religious conduct of the life of his day and towards ceremonial and soulless conceptions of christian duty, which were an eyesore to him. in point of form the _enchiridion_ is a manual for an illiterate soldier to attain to an attitude of mind worthy of christ; as with a finger he will point out to him the shortest path to christ. he assumes the friend to be weary of life at court--a common theme of contemporary literature. only for a few days does erasmus interrupt the work of his life, the purification of theology, to comply with his friend's request for instruction. to keep up a soldierly style he chooses the title, _enchiridion_, the greek word that even in antiquity meant both a poniard and a manual:[ ] 'the poniard of the militant christian'.[ ] he reminds him of the duty of watchfulness and enumerates the weapons of christ's militia. self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. the general rules of the christian conduct of life are followed by a number of remedies for particular sins and faults. such is the outward frame. but within this scope erasmus finds an opportunity, for the first time, to develop his theological programme. this programme calls upon us to return to scripture. it should be the endeavour of every christian to understand scripture in its purity and original meaning. to that end he should prepare himself by the study of the ancients, orators, poets, philosophers; plato especially. also the great fathers of the church, jerome, ambrose, augustine will be found useful, but not the large crowd of subsequent exegetists. the argument chiefly aims at subverting the conception of religion as a continual observance of ceremonies. this is judaic ritualism and of no value. it is better to understand a single verse of the psalms well, by this means to deepen one's understanding of god and of oneself, and to draw a moral and line of conduct from it, than to read the whole psalter without attention. if the ceremonies do not renew the soul they are valueless and hurtful. 'many are wont to count how many masses they have heard every day, and referring to them as to something very important, as though they owed christ nothing else, they return to their former habits after leaving church.' 'perhaps you sacrifice every day and yet you live for yourself. you worship the saints, you like to touch their relics; do you want to earn peter and paul? then copy the faith of the one and the charity of the other and you will have done more than if you had walked to rome ten times.' he does not reject formulae and practices; he does not want to shake the faith of the humble but he cannot suffer that christ is offered a cult made up of practices only. and why is it the monks, above all, who contribute to the deterioration of faith? 'i am ashamed to tell how superstitiously most of them observe certain petty ceremonies, invented by puny human minds (and not even for this purpose), how hatefully they want to force others to conform to them, how implicitly they trust them, how boldly they condemn others.' let paul teach them true christianity. 'stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.' this word to the galatians contains the doctrine of christian liberty, which soon at the reformation was to resound so loudly. erasmus did not apply it here in a sense derogatory to the dogmatics of the catholic church; but still it is a fact that the _enchiridion_ prepared many minds to give up much that he still wanted to keep. the note of the _enchiridion_ is already what was to remain the note of erasmus's life-work: how revolting it is that in this world the substance and the shadow differ so and that the world reverences those whom it should not reverence; that a hedge of infatuation, routine and thoughtlessness prevents mankind from seeing things in their true proportions. he expresses it later in the _praise of folly_ and in the _colloquies_. it is not merely religious feeling, it is equally social feeling that inspired him. under the heading: opinions worthy of a christian, he laments the extremes of pride of class, national hostility, professional envy, and rivalry between religious orders, which keep men apart. let everybody sincerely concern himself about his brother. 'throwing dice cost you a thousand gold pieces in one night, and meanwhile some wretched girl, compelled by poverty, sold her modesty; and a soul is lost for which christ gave his own. you say, what is that to me? i mind my own business, according to my lights. and yet you, holding such opinions, consider yourself a christian, who are not even a man!' in the _enchiridion_ of the militant christian, erasmus had for the first time said the things which he had most at heart, with fervour and indignation, with sincerity and courage. and yet one would hardly say that this booklet was born of an irresistible impulse of ardent piety. erasmus treats it, as we have seen, as a trifle, composed at the request of a friend in a couple of days stolen from his studies (though, strictly speaking, this only holds good of the first draft, which he elaborated afterwards). the chief object of his studies he had already conceived to be the restoration of theology. one day he will expound paul, 'that the slanderers who consider it the height of piety to know nothing of _bonae literae_, may understand that we in our youth embraced the cultured literature of the ancients, and that we acquired a correct knowledge of the two languages, greek and latin--not without many vigils--not for the purpose of vainglory or childish satisfaction, but because, long before, we premeditated adorning the temple of the lord (which some have too much desecrated by their ignorance and barbarism) according to our strength, with help from foreign parts, so that also in noble minds the love of holy scripture may be kindled'. is it not still the humanist who speaks? we hear, moreover, the note of personal justification. it is sounded also in a letter to colet written towards the close of , accompanying the edition of the _lucubrationes_ in which the _enchiridion_ was first published. 'i did not write the _enchiridion_ to parade my invention or eloquence, but only that i might correct the error of those whose religion is usually composed of more than judaic ceremonies and observances of a material sort, and who neglect the things that conduce to piety.' he adds, and this is typically humanistic, 'i have tried to give the reader a sort of art of piety, as others have written the theory of certain sciences'. the art of piety! erasmus might have been surprised had he known that another treatise, written more than sixty years before, by another canon of the low countries would continue to appeal much longer and much more urgently to the world than his manual: the _imitatio christi_ by thomas à kempis. the _enchiridion_, collected with some other pieces into a volume of _lucubrationes_, did not meet with such a great and speedy success as had been bestowed upon the _adagia_. that erasmus's speculations on true piety were considered too bold was certainly not the cause. they contained nothing antagonistic to the teachings of the church, so that even at the time of the counter-reformation, when the church had become highly suspicious of everything that erasmus had written, the divines who drew up the _index expurgatorius_ of his work found only a few passages in the _enchiridion_ to expunge. moreover, erasmus had inserted in the volume some writings of unsuspected catholic tenor. for a long time it was in great repute, especially with theologians and monks. a famous preacher at antwerp used to say that a sermon might be found in every page of the _enchiridion_. but the book only obtained its great influence in wide cultured circles when, upheld by erasmus's world-wide reputation, it was available in a number of translations, english, czech, german, dutch, spanish, and french. but then it began to fall under suspicion, for that was the time when luther had unchained the great struggle. 'now they have begun to nibble at the _enchiridion_ also, that used to be so popular with divines,' erasmus writes in . for the rest it was only two passages to which the orthodox critics objected. footnotes: [ ] that this man should have been john of trazegnies as allen thinks possible and renaudet accepts, is still all too uncertain; a. t. i. p. ; renaudet, préréforme . [ ] in (a. . ) erasmus speaks of the _enchiridion_ of the father augustine, cf. , ; in , a. . , he calls the _officia_ of cicero a 'pugiunculus'--a dagger. so the appellation had been in his mind for some time. [ ] _miles_ with erasmus has no longer the meaning of 'knight' which it had in medieval latin. chapter vii years of trouble--louvain, paris, england - death of batt: --first stay at louvain: - --translations from the greek--at paris again--valla's _annotationes_ on the new testament--second stay in england: - --more patrons and friends--departure for italy: --_carmen alpestre_ circumstances continued to remain unfavourable for erasmus. 'this year fortune has truly been raging violently against me,' he writes in the autumn of . in the spring his good friend batt had died. it is a pity that no letters written by erasmus directly after his bereavement have come down to us. we should be glad to have for that faithful helper a monument in addition to that which erasmus erected to his memory in the _antibarbari_. anna of veere had remarried and, as a patroness, might henceforth be left out of account. in october , henry of bergen passed away. 'i have commemorated the bishop of cambray in three latin epitaphs and a greek one; they sent me but six guilders, that also in death he should remain true to himself.' in francis of busleiden, archbishop of besançon, he lost at about the same time a prospective new patron. he still felt shut out from paris, cologne and england by the danger of the plague. in the late summer of he went to louvain, 'flung thither by the plague,' he says. the university of louvain, established in to wean the netherlands in spiritual matters from paris, was, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, one of the strongholds of theological tradition, which, however, did not prevent the progress of classical studies. how else should adrian of utrecht, later pope but at that time dean of saint peter's and professor of theology, have forthwith undertaken to get him a professorship? erasmus declined the offer, however, 'for certain reasons,' he says. considering his great distress, the reasons must have been cogent indeed. one of them which he mentioned is not very clear to us: 'i am here so near to dutch tongues which know how to hurt much, it is true, but have not learned to profit any one'. his spirit of liberty and his ardent love of the studies to which he wanted to devote himself entirely, were, no doubt, his chief reasons for declining. but he had to make a living. life at louvain was expensive and he had no regular earnings. he wrote some prefaces and dedicated to the bishop of arras, chancellor of the university, the first translation from the greek: some _declamationes_ by libanius. when in the autumn of philip le beau was expected back in the netherlands from his journey to spain erasmus wrote, with sighs of distaste, a panegyric to celebrate the safe return of the prince. it cost him much trouble. 'it occupies me day and night,' says the man who composed with such incredible facility, when his heart was in the work. 'what is harder than to write with aversion; what is more useless than to write something by which we unlearn good writing?' it must be acknowledged that he really flattered as sparingly as possible; the practice was so repulsive to him that in his preface he roundly owned that, to tell the truth, this whole class of composition was not to his taste. at the end of erasmus was back at paris, at last. probably he had always meant to return and looked upon his stay at louvain as a temporary exile. the circumstances under which he left louvain are unknown to us, because of the almost total lack of letters of the year . in any case, he hoped that at paris he would sooner be able to attain his great end of devoting himself entirely to the study of theology. 'i cannot tell you, dear colet,' he writes towards the end of , 'how i hurry on, with all sails set, to holy literature; how i dislike everything that keeps me back, or retards me. but the disfavour of fortune, who always looks at me with the same face, has been the reason why i have not been able to get clear of those vexations. so i returned to france with the purpose, if i cannot solve them, at any rate of ridding myself of them in one way or another. after that i shall devote myself, with all my heart, to the _divinae literae_, to give up the remainder of my life to them.' if only he can find the means to work for some months entirely for himself and disentangle himself from profane literature. can colet not find out for him how matters stand with regard to the proceeds of the hundred copies of the _adagia_ which, at one time, he sent to england at his own expense? the liberty of a few months may be bought for little money. there is something heroic in erasmus scorning to make money out of his facile talents and enviable knowledge of the humanities, daring indigence so as to be able to realize his shining ideal of restoring theology. it is remarkable that the same italian humanist who in his youth had been his guide and example on the road to pure latinity and classic antiquity, lorenzo valla, by chance became his leader and an outpost in the field of critical theology. in the summer of , hunting in the old library of the premonstratensian monastery of parc, near louvain ('in no preserves is hunting a greater delight'), he found a manuscript of valla's _annotationes_ on the new testament. it was a collection of critical notes on the text of the gospels, the epistles and revelation. that the text of the vulgate was not stainless had been acknowledged by rome itself as early as the thirteenth century. monastic orders and individual divines had set themselves to correct it, but that purification had not amounted to much, in spite of nicholas of lyra's work in the fourteenth century. it was probably the falling in with valla's _annotationes_ which led erasmus, who was formerly more inspired with the resolution to edit jerome and to comment upon paul (he was to do both at a later date), to turn to the task of taking up the new testament as a whole, in order to restore it in its purity. in march already josse badius at paris printed valla's _annotationes_ for erasmus, as a sort of advertisement of what he himself one day hoped to achieve. it was a feat of courage. erasmus did not conceal from himself that valla, the humanist, had an ill name with divines, and that there would be an outcry about 'the intolerable temerity of the _homo grammaticus_, who after having harassed all the _disciplinae_, did not scruple to assail holy literature with his petulant pen'. it was another programme much more explicit and defiant than the _enchiridion_ had been. once more it is not clear why and how erasmus left paris again for england in the autumn of . he speaks of serious reasons and the advice of sensible people. he mentions one reason: lack of money. the reprint of the _adagia_, published by john philippi at paris in , had probably helped him through, for the time being; the edition cannot have been to his taste, for he had been dissatisfied with his work and wanted to extend it by weaving his new greek knowledge into it. from holland a warning voice had sounded, the voice of his superior and friend servatius, demanding an account of his departure from paris. evidently his dutch friends had still no confidence in erasmus, his work, and his future. in many respects that future appeared more favourable to him in england than it had seemed anywhere, thus far. there he found the old friends, men of consideration and importance: mountjoy, with whom, on his arrival, he stayed some months, colet, and more. there he found some excellent greek scholars, whose conversation promised to be profitable and amusing; not colet, who knew little greek, but more, linacre, grocyn, latimer, and tunstall. he soon came in contact with some high ecclesiastics who were to be his friends and patrons: richard foxe, bishop of winchester, john fisher, bishop of rochester and william warham, archbishop of canterbury. soon he would also find a friend whose congenial spirit and interests, to some extent, made up for the loss of batt: the italian andrew ammonius, of lucca. and lastly, the king promised him an ecclesiastical benefice. it was not long before erasmus was armed with a dispensation from pope julius ii, dated january , cancelling the obstacles in the way of accepting an english benefice. translations from greek into latin were for him an easy and speedy means to obtain favour and support: a dialogue by lucian, followed by others, for foxe; the _hecuba_ and the _iphigenia_ of euripides for warham. he now also thought of publishing his letters. clearly his relations with holland were not yet satisfactory. servatius did not reply to his letters. erasmus ever felt hanging over him a menace to his career and his liberty embodied in the figure of that friend, to whom he was linked by so many silken ties, yonder in the monastery of steyn, where his return was looked forward to, sooner or later, as a beacon-light of christendom. did the prior know of the papal dispensation exempting erasmus from the 'statutes and customs of the monastery of steyn in holland, of the order of saint augustine?' probably he did. on april , erasmus writes to him: 'here in london i am, it seems, greatly esteemed by the most eminent and erudite men of all england. the king has promised me a curacy: the visit of the prince necessitated a postponement of this business.'[ ] he immediately adds: 'i am deliberating again how best to devote the remainder of my life (how much that will be, i do not know) entirely to piety, to christ. i see life, even when it is long, as evanescent and dwindling; i know that i am of a delicate constitution and that my strength has been encroached upon, not a little, by study and also, somewhat, by misfortune. i see that no deliverance can be hoped from study, and that it seems as if we had to begin over again, day after day. therefore i have resolved, content with my mediocrity (especially now that i have learned as much greek as suffices me), to apply myself to meditation about death and the training of my soul. i should have done so before and have husbanded the precious years when they were at their best. but though it is a tardy husbandry that people practise when only little remains at the bottom, we should be the more economical accordingly as the quantity and quality of what is left diminishes.' was it a fit of melancholy which made erasmus write those words of repentance and renunciation? was he surprised in the middle of the pursuit of his life's aim by the consciousness of the vanity of his endeavours, the consciousness, too, of a great fatigue? is this the deepest foundation of erasmus's being, which he reveals for a moment to his old and intimate friend? it may be doubted. the passage tallies very ill with the first sentences of the letter, which are altogether concerned with success and prospects. in a letter he wrote the next day, also to gouda and to a trusted friend, there is no trace of the mood: he is again thinking of his future. we do not notice that the tremendous zeal with which he continues his studies is relaxed for a moment. and there are other indications that towards servatius, who knew him better than he could wish, and who, moreover, as prior of steyn, had a threatening power over him, he purposely demeaned himself as though he despised the world. meanwhile nothing came of the english prebend. but suddenly the occasion offered to which erasmus had so often looked forward: the journey to italy. the court-physician of henry vii, giovanni battista boerio, of genoa, was looking for a master to accompany his sons in their journey to the universities of italy. erasmus accepted the post, which charged him neither with the duties of tuition nor with attending to the young fellows, but only with supervising and guiding their studies. in the beginning of june , he found himself on french soil once more. for two summer months the party of travellers stayed at paris and erasmus availed himself of the opportunity to have several of his works, which he had brought from england, printed at paris. he was by now a well-known and favourite author, gladly welcomed by the old friends (he had been reputed dead) and made much of. josse badius printed all erasmus offered him: the translations of euripides and lucian, a collection of _epigrammata_, a new but still unaltered edition of the _adagia_. in august the journey was continued. as he rode on horseback along the alpine roads the most important poem erasmus has written, the echo of an abandoned pursuit, originated. he had been vexed about his travelling company, had abstained from conversing with them, and sought consolation in composing poetry. the result was the ode which he called _carmen equestre vel potius alpestre_, about the inconveniences of old age, dedicated to his friend william cop. erasmus was one of those who early feel old. he was not forty and yet fancied himself across the threshold of old age. how quickly it had come! he looks back on the course of his life: he sees himself playing with nuts as a child, as a boy eager for study, as a youth engrossed in poetry and scholasticism, also in painting. he surveys his enormous erudition, his study of greek, his aspiration to scholarly fame. in the midst of all this, old age has suddenly come. what remains to him? and again we hear the note of renunciation of the world and of devotion to christ. farewell jests and trifles, farewell philosophy and poetry, a pure heart full of christ is all he desires henceforward. here, in the stillness of the alpine landscape, there arose something more of erasmus's deepest aspirations than in the lament to servatius. but in this case, too, it is a stray element of his soul, not the strong impulse that gave direction and fullness to his life and with irresistible pressure urged him on to ever new studies. footnotes: [ ] a. , philip le beau, who had unexpectedly come to england because of a storm, which obliged mountjoy to do court-service. chapter viii in italy - erasmus in italy: - --he takes his degree at turin--bologna and pope julius ii--erasmus in venice with aldus: - --the art of printing--alexander stewart--to rome: --news of henry viii's accession--erasmus leaves italy at turin erasmus received, directly upon his arrival, on september , the degree of doctor of theology. that he did not attach much value to the degree is easy to understand. he regarded it, however, as an official warrant of his competence as a writer on theological subjects, which would strengthen his position when assailed by the suspicion of his critics. he writes disdainfully about the title, even to his dutch friends who in former days had helped him on in his studies for the express purpose of obtaining the doctor's degree. as early as , to anna of borselen he writes, 'go to italy and obtain the doctor's degree? foolish projects, both of them. but one should conform to the customs of the times.' again to servatius and johannes obrecht, half apologetically, he says: 'i have obtained the doctor's degree in theology, and that quite contrary to my intention, only because i was overcome by the prayers of friends.' bologna was now the destination of his journey. but when erasmus arrived there, a war was in progress which forced him to retire to florence for a time. pope julius ii, allied with the french, at the head of an army, marched on bologna to conquer it from the bentivogli. this purpose was soon attained, and bologna was a safe place to return to. on november , erasmus witnessed the triumphal entry of the martial pope. of these days nothing but short, hasty letters of his have come down to us. they speak of unrest and rumours of war. there is nothing to show that he was impressed by the beauty of the italy of the renaissance. the scanty correspondence dating from his stay in italy mentions neither architecture, nor sculpture, nor pictures. when much later he happened to remember his visit to the chartreuse of pavia, it is only to give an instance of useless waste and magnificence. books alone seemed to occupy and attract erasmus in italy. at bologna, erasmus served as a mentor to the young boerios to the end of the year for which he had bound himself. it seemed a very long time to him. he could not stand any encroachment upon his liberty. he felt caught in the contract as in a net. the boys, it seems, were intelligent enough, if not so brilliant as erasmus had seen them in his first joy; but with their private tutor clyfton, whom he at first extolled to the sky, he was soon at loggerheads. at bologna he experienced many vexations for which his new relations with paul bombasius could only in part indemnify him. he worked there at an enlarged edition of his _adagia_, which now, by the addition of the greek ones, increased from eight hundred to some thousands of items. [illustration: vii. title-page of the _adagia_, printed by aldus manutius in ] [illustration: viii. view of venice, ] [illustration: ix. portrait medal of aldus manutius. on the reverse the aldine emblem] [illustration: x. a page from the _praise of folly_ with a drawing by holbein of erasmus at his desk.] from bologna, in october , erasmus addressed a letter to the famous venetian printer, aldus manutius, in which he requested him to publish, anew, the two translated dramas of euripides, as the edition of badius was out of print and too defective for his taste. what made aldus attractive in his eyes was, no doubt, besides the fame of the business, though it was languishing at the time, the printer's beautiful type--'those most magnificent letters, especially those very small ones'. erasmus was one of those true book-lovers who pledge their heart to a type or a size of a book, not because of any artistic preference, but because of readableness and handiness, which to them are of the very greatest importance. what he asked of aldus was a small book at a low price. towards the end of the year their relations had gone so far that erasmus gave up his projected journey to rome, for the time, to remove to venice, there personally to superintend the publication of his works. now there was no longer merely the question of a little book of translations, but aldus had declared himself willing to print the enormously increased collection of the _adagia_. beatus rhenanus tells a story which, no doubt, he had heard from erasmus himself: how erasmus on his arrival at venice had gone straight to the printing-office and was kept waiting there for a long time. aldus was correcting proofs and thought his visitor was one of those inquisitive people by whom he used to be pestered. when he turned out to be erasmus, he welcomed him cordially and procured him board and lodging in the house of his father-in-law, andrea asolani. fully eight months did erasmus live there, in the environment which, in future, was to be his true element: the printing-office. he was in a fever of hurried work, about which he would often sigh, but which, after all, was congenial to him. the augmented collection of the _adagia_ had not yet been made ready for the press at bologna. 'with great temerity on my part,' erasmus himself testifies, 'we began to work at the same time, i to write, aldus to print.' meanwhile the literary friends of the new academy whom he got to know at venice, johannes lascaris, baptista egnatius, marcus musurus and the young jerome aleander, with whom, at asolani's, he shared room and bed, brought him new greek authors, unprinted as yet, furnishing fresh material for augmenting the _adagia_. these were no inconsiderable additions: plato in the original, plutarch's _lives_ and _moralia_, pindar, pausanias, and others. even people whom he did not know and who took an interest in his work, brought new material to him. amid the noise of the press-room, erasmus, to the surprise of his publisher, sat and wrote, usually from memory, so busily occupied that, as he picturesquely expressed it, he had no time to scratch his ears. he was lord and master of the printing-office. a special corrector had been assigned to him; he made his textual changes in the last impression. aldus also read the proofs. 'why?' asked erasmus. 'because i am studying at the same time,' was the reply. meanwhile erasmus suffered from the first attack of his tormenting nephrolithic malady; he ascribed it to the food he got at asolani's and later took revenge by painting that boarding-house and its landlord in very spiteful colours in the _colloquies_. when in september , the edition of the _adagia_ was ready, aldus wanted erasmus to remain in order to write more for him. till december he continued to work at venice on editions of plautus, terence, and seneca's tragedies. visions of joint labour to publish all that classic antiquity still held in the way of hidden treasures, together with hebrew and chaldean stores, floated before his mind. erasmus belonged to the generation which had grown up together with the youthful art of printing. to the world of those days it was still like a newly acquired organ; people felt rich, powerful, happy in the possession of this 'almost divine implement'. the figure of erasmus and his _[oe]uvre_ were only rendered possible by the art of printing. he was its glorious triumph and, equally, in a sense, its victim. what would erasmus have been without the printing-press? to broadcast the ancient documents, to purify and restore them was his life's passion. the certainty that the printed book places exactly the same text in the hands of thousands of readers, was to him a consolation that former generations had lacked. erasmus is one of the first who, after his name as an author was established, worked directly and continually for the press. it was his strength, but also his weakness. it enabled him to exercise an immediate influence on the reading public of europe such as had emanated from none before him; to become a focus of culture in the full sense of the word, an intellectual central station, a touchstone of the spirit of the time. imagine for a moment what it would have meant if a still greater mind than his, say cardinal nicholas of cusa, that universal spirit who had helped in nursing the art of printing in its earliest infancy, could have availed himself of the art as it was placed at the disposal of erasmus! the dangerous aspect of this situation was that printing enabled erasmus, having once become a centre and an authority, to address the world at large immediately about all that occurred to him. much of his later mental labour is, after all, really but repetition, ruminating digression, unnecessary vindication from assaults to which his greatness alone would have been a sufficient answer, futilities which he might have better left alone. much of this work written directly for the press is journalism at bottom, and we do erasmus an injustice by applying to it the tests of lasting excellence. the consciousness that we can reach the whole world at once with our writings is a stimulant which unwittingly influences our mode of expression, a luxury that only the highest spirits can bear with impunity. the link between erasmus and book-printing was latin. without his incomparable latinity his position as an author would have been impossible. the art of printing undoubtedly furthered the use of latin. it was the latin publications which in those days promised success and a large sale for a publisher, and established his reputation, for they were broadcast all over the world. the leading publishers were themselves scholars filled with enthusiasm for humanism. cultured and well-to-do people acted as proof-readers to printers; such as peter gilles, the friend of erasmus and more, the town clerk of antwerp, who corrected proof-sheets for dirck maertensz. the great printing-offices were, in a local sense, too, the foci of intellectual intercourse. the fact that england had lagged behind, thus far, in the evolution of the art of printing, contributed not a little, no doubt, to prevent erasmus from settling there, where so many ties held and so many advantages allured him. to find a permanent place of residence was, indeed, and apart from this fact, very hard for him. towards the end of he accepted the post of tutor in rhetorics to the young alexander stewart, a natural son of james iv of scotland, and already, in spite of his youth, archbishop of saint andrews, now a student at padua. the danger of war soon drove them from upper italy to siena. here erasmus obtained leave to visit rome. he arrived there early in , no longer an unknown canon from the northern regions but a celebrated and honoured author. all the charms of the eternal city lay open to him and he must have felt keenly gratified by the consideration and courtesy with which cardinals and prelates, such as giovanni de' medici, afterwards leo x, domenico grimani, riario and others, treated him. it seems that he was even offered some post in the curia. but he had to return to his youthful archbishop with whom he thereupon visited rome again, incognito, and afterwards travelled in the neighbourhood of naples. he inspected the cave of the sibylla of cumae, but what it meant to him we do not know. this entire period following his departure from padua and all that follows till the spring of --in certain respects the most important part of his life--remains unrecorded in a single letter that has come down to us. here and there he has occasionally, and at a much later date, touched upon some impressions of rome,[ ] but the whole remains vague and dim. it is the incubation period of the _praise of folly_ that is thus obscured from view. on april , king henry vii of england died. his successor was the young prince whom erasmus had saluted at eltham in , to whom he had dedicated his poem in praise of great britain, and who, during his stay at bologna, had distinguished him by a latin letter as creditable to erasmus as to the fifteen-year-old royal latinist.[ ] if ever the chance of obtaining a patron seemed favourable, it was now, when this promising lover of letters ascended the throne as henry viii. lord mountjoy, erasmus's most faithful maecenas, thought so, too, and pointed out the fact to him in a letter of may . it was a pleasure to see, he wrote, how vigorous, how upright and just, how zealous in the cause of literature and men of letters was the conduct of the youthful prince. mountjoy--or ammonius, who probably drew up the flowery document for him--was exultant. a laughing sky and tears of joy are the themes of the letter. evidently, however, erasmus himself had, on his side, already sounded mountjoy as to his chances, as soon as the tidings of henry vii's death became known at rome; not without lamentations about cares and weakened health. 'the archbishop of canterbury', mountjoy was able to apprise erasmus, 'is not only continually engrossed in your _adagia_ and praises you to the skies, but he also promises you a benefice on your return and sends you five pounds for travelling expenses,' which sum was doubled by mountjoy. we do not know whether erasmus really hesitated before he reached his decision. cardinal grimani, he asserts, tried to hold him back, but in vain, for in july, , he left rome and italy, never to return. as he crossed the alps for the second time, not on the french side now, but across the splügen, through switzerland, his genius touched him again, as had happened in those high regions three years before on the road to italy. but this time it was not in the guise of the latin muse, who then drew from him such artful and pathetic poetical meditations about his past life and pious vows for the future;--it was something much more subtle and grand: the _praise of folly_. footnotes: [ ] lbe. no. _c._ , visit to grimani. [ ] a. , where from allen's introduction one can form an opinion about the prince's share in the composition. chapter ix the praise of folly _moriae encomium, the praise of folly_: , as a work of art--folly, the motor of all life: indispensable, salutary, cause and support of states and of heroism--folly keeps the world going--vital energy incorporated with folly--lack of folly makes unfit for life--need of self-complacency--humbug beats truth--knowledge a plague--satire of all secular and ecclesiastical vocations--two themes throughout the work--the highest folly: ecstasy--the _moria_ to be taken as a gay jest--confusion of fools and lunatics--erasmus treats his _moria_ slightingly--its value while he rode over the mountain passes,[ ] erasmus's restless spirit, now unfettered for some days by set tasks, occupied itself with everything he had studied and read in the last few years, and with everything he had seen. what ambition, what self-deception, what pride and conceit filled the world! he thought of thomas more, whom he was now to see again--that most witty and wise of all his friends, with that curious name _moros_, the greek word for a fool, which so ill became his personality. anticipating the gay jests which more's conversation promised, there grew in his mind that masterpiece of humour and wise irony, _moriae encomium_, the _praise of folly_. the world as the scene of universal folly; folly as the indispensable element making life and society possible and all this put into the mouth of stultitia--folly-- itself (true antitype of minerva), who in a panegyric on her own power and usefulness, praises herself. as to form it is a _declamatio_, such as he had translated from the greek of libanius. as to the spirit, a revival of lucian, whose _gallus_, translated by him three years before, may have suggested the theme. it must have been in the incomparably lucid moments of that brilliant intellect. all the particulars of classic reading which the year before he worked up in the new edition of the _adagia_ were still at his immediate disposal in that retentive and capacious memory. reflecting at his ease on all that wisdom of the ancients, he secreted the juices required for his expostulation. he arrived in london, took up his abode in more's house in bucklersbury, and there, tortured by nephritic pains, he wrote down in a few days, without having his books with him, the perfect work of art that must have been ready in his mind. stultitia was truly born in the manner of her serious sister pallas. as to form and imagery the _moria_ is faultless, the product of the inspired moments of creative impulse. the figure of an orator confronting her public is sustained to the last in a masterly way. we see the faces of the auditors light up with glee when folly appears in the pulpit; we hear the applause interrupting her words. there is a wealth of fancy, coupled with so much soberness of line and colour, such reserve, that the whole presents a perfect instance of that harmony which is the essence of renaissance expression. there is no exuberance, in spite of the multiplicity of matter and thought, but a temperateness, a smoothness, an airiness and clearness which are as gladdening as they are relaxing. in order perfectly to realize the artistic perfection of erasmus's book we should compare it with rabelais. 'without me', says folly, 'the world cannot exist for a moment. for is not all that is done at all among mortals, full of folly; is it not performed by fools and for fools?' 'no society, no cohabitation can be pleasant or lasting without folly; so much so, that a people could not stand its prince, nor the master his man, nor the maid her mistress, nor the tutor his pupil, nor the friend his friend, nor the wife her husband for a moment longer, if they did not now and then err together, now flatter each other; now sensibly conniving at things, now smearing themselves with some honey of folly.' in that sentence the summary of the _laus_ is contained. folly here is worldly wisdom, resignation and lenient judgement. he who pulls off the masks in the comedy of life is ejected. what is the whole life of mortals but a sort of play in which each actor appears on the boards in his specific mask and acts his part till the stage-manager calls him off? he acts wrongly who does not adapt himself to existing conditions, and demands that the game shall be a game no longer. it is the part of the truly sensible to mix with all people, either conniving readily at their folly, or affably erring like themselves. and the necessary driving power of all human action is 'philautia', folly's own sister: self-love. he who does not please himself effects little. take away that condiment of life and the word of the orator cools, the poet is laughed at, the artist perishes with his art. folly in the garb of pride, of vanity, of vainglory, is the hidden spring of all that is considered high and great in this world. the state with its posts of honour, patriotism and national pride; the stateliness of ceremonies, the delusion of caste and nobility--what is it but folly? war, the most foolish thing of all, is the origin of all heroism. what prompted the deciuses, what curtius, to sacrifice themselves? vainglory. it is this folly which produces states; through her, empires, religion, law-courts, exist. this is bolder and more chilling than machiavelli, more detached than montaigne. but erasmus will not have it credited to him: it is folly who speaks. he purposely makes us tread the round of the _circulus vitiosus_, as in the old saw: a cretan said, all cretans are liars. wisdom is to folly as reason is to passion. and there is much more passion than reason in the world. that which keeps the world going, the fount of life, is folly. for what else is love? why do people marry, if not out of folly, which sees no objections? all enjoyment and amusement is only a condiment of folly. when a wise man wishes to become a father, he has first to play the fool. for what is more foolish than the game of procreation? unperceived the orator has incorporated here with folly all that is vitality and the courage of life. folly is spontaneous energy that no one can do without. he who is perfectly sensible and serious cannot live. the more people get away from me, stultitia, the less they live. why do we kiss and cuddle little children, if not because they are still so delightfully foolish. and what else makes youth so elegant? now look at the truly serious and sensible. they are awkward at everything, at meal-time, at a dance, in playing, in social intercourse. if they have to buy, or to contract, things are sure to go wrong. quintilian says that stage fright bespeaks the intelligent orator, who knows his faults. right! but does not, then, quintilian confess openly that wisdom is an impediment to good execution? and has not stultitia the right to claim prudence for herself, if the wise, out of shame, out of bashfulness, undertake nothing in circumstances where fools pluckily set to work? here erasmus goes to the root of the matter in a psychological sense. indeed the consciousness of falling short in achievement is the brake clogging action, is the great inertia retarding the progress of the world. did he know himself for one who is awkward when not bending over his books, but confronting men and affairs? folly is gaiety and lightheartedness, indispensable to happiness. the man of mere reason without passion is a stone image, blunt and without any human feeling, a spectre or monster, from whom all fly, deaf to all natural emotions, susceptible neither to love nor compassion. nothing escapes him, in nothing he errs; he sees through everything, he weighs everything accurately, he forgives nothing, he is only satisfied with himself; he alone is healthy; he alone is king, he alone is free. it is the hideous figure of the doctrinaire which erasmus is thinking of. which state, he exclaims, would desire such an absolutely wise man for a magistrate? he who devotes himself to tasting all the bitterness of life with wise insight would forthwith deprive himself of life. only folly is a remedy: to err, to be mistaken, to be ignorant is to be human. how much better it is in marriage to be blind to a wife's shortcomings than to make away with oneself out of jealousy and to fill the world with tragedy! adulation is virtue. there is no cordial devotion without a little adulation. it is the soul of eloquence, of medicine and poetry; it is the honey and the sweetness of all human customs. again a series of valuable social qualities is slyly incorporated with folly: benevolence, kindness, inclination to approve and to admire. but especially to approve of oneself. there is no pleasing others without beginning by flattering ourselves a little and approving of ourselves. what would the world be if everyone was not proud of his standing, his calling, so that no person would change places with another in point of good appearance, of fancy, of good family, of landed property? humbug is the right thing. why should any one desire true erudition? the more incompetent a man, the pleasanter his life is and the more he is admired. look at professors, poets, orators. man's mind is so made that he is more impressed by lies than by the truth. go to church: if the priest deals with serious subjects the whole congregation is dozing, yawning, feeling bored. but when he begins to tell some cock-and-bull story, they awake, sit up, and hang on his lips. to be deceived, philosophers say, is a misfortune, but not to be deceived is a superlative misfortune. if it is human to err, why should a man be called unhappy because he errs, since he was so born and made, and it is the fate of all? do we pity a man because he cannot fly or does not walk on four legs? we might as well call the horse unhappy because it does not learn grammar or eat cakes. no creature is unhappy, if it lives according to its nature. the sciences were invented to our utmost destruction; far from conducing to our happiness, they are even in its way, though for its sake they are supposed to have been invented. by the agency of evil demons they have stolen into human life with the other pests. for did not the simple-minded people of the golden age live happily, unprovided with any science, only led by nature and instinct? what did they want grammar for, when all spoke the same language? why have dialectics, when there were no quarrels and no differences of opinion? why jurisprudence, when there were no bad morals from which good laws sprang? they were too religious to investigate with impious curiosity the secrets of nature, the size, motions, influence of the stars, the hidden cause of things. it is the old idea, which germinated in antiquity, here lightly touched upon by erasmus, afterwards proclaimed by rousseau in bitter earnest: civilization is a plague. wisdom is misfortune, but self-conceit is happiness. grammarians, who wield the sceptre of wisdom--schoolmasters, that is--would be the most wretched of all people if i, folly, did not mitigate the discomforts of their miserable calling by a sort of sweet frenzy. but what holds good of schoolmasters, also holds good of poets, orators, authors. for them, too, all happiness merely consists in vanity and delusion. the lawyers are no better off and after them come the philosophers. next there is a numerous procession of clergy: divines, monks, bishops, cardinals, popes, only interrupted by princes and courtiers. in the chapters[ ] which review these offices and callings, satire has shifted its ground a little. throughout the work two themes are intertwined: that of salutary folly, which is true wisdom, and that of deluded wisdom, which is pure folly. as they are both put into the mouth of folly, we should have to invert them both to get truth, if folly ... were not wisdom. now it is clear that the first is the principal theme. erasmus starts from it; and he returns to it. only in the middle, as he reviews human accomplishments and dignities in their universal foolishness, the second theme predominates and the book becomes an ordinary satire on human folly, of which there are many though few are so delicate. but in the other parts it is something far deeper. occasionally the satire runs somewhat off the line, when stultitia directly censures what erasmus wishes to censure; for instance, indulgences, silly belief in wonders, selfish worship of the saints; or gamblers whom she, folly, ought to praise; or the spirit of systematizing and levelling, and the jealousy of the monks. for contemporary readers the importance of the _laus stultitiae_ was, to a great extent, in the direct satire. its lasting value is in those passages where we truly grant that folly is wisdom and the reverse. erasmus knows the aloofness of the ground of all things: all consistent thinking out of the dogmas of faith leads to absurdity. only look at the theological quiddities of effete scholasticism. the apostles would not have understood them: in the eyes of latter-day divines they would have been fools. holy scripture itself sides with folly. 'the foolishness of god is wiser than men,' says saint paul. 'but god hath chosen the foolish things of the world.' 'it pleased god by the foolishness (of preaching) to save them that believe.' christ loved the simple-minded and the ignorant: children, women, poor fishermen, nay, even such animals as are farthest removed from vulpine cunning: the ass which he wished to ride, the dove, the lamb, the sheep. here there is a great deal behind the seemingly light jest: 'christian religion seems in general to have some affinity with a certain sort of folly'. was it not thought the apostles were full of new wine? and did not the judge say: 'paul, thou art beside thyself'? when are we beside ourselves? when the spirit breaks its fetters and tries to escape from its prison and aspires to liberty. that is madness, but it is also other-worldliness and the highest wisdom. true happiness is in selflessness, in the furore of lovers, whom plato calls happiest of all. the more absolute love is, the greater and more rapturous is the frenzy. heavenly bliss itself is the greatest insanity; truly pious people enjoy its shadow on earth already in their meditations. here stultitia breaks off her discourse, apologizing in a few words in case she may have been too petulant or talkative, and leaves the pulpit. 'so farewell, applaud, live happily, and drink, moria's illustrious initiates.' it was an unrivalled feat of art even in these last chapters neither to lose the light comical touch, nor to lapse into undisguised profanation. it was only feasible by veritable dancing on the tight-rope of sophistry. in the _moria_ erasmus is all the time hovering on the brink of profound truths. but what a boon it was--still granted to those times--to be able to treat of all this in a vein of pleasantry. for this should be impressed upon our minds: that the _moriae encomium_ is a true, gay jest. the laugh is more delicate, but no less hearty than rabelais's. 'valete, plaudite, vivite, bibite.' 'all common people abound to such a degree, and everywhere, in so many forms of folly that a thousand democrituses would be insufficient to laugh at them all (and they would require another democritus to laugh at them).' how could one take the _moria_ too seriously, when even more's _utopia_, which is a true companion-piece to it and makes such a grave impression on us, is treated by its author and erasmus as a mere jest? there is a place where the _laus_ seems to touch both more and rabelais; the place where stultitia speaks of her father, plutus, the god of wealth, at whose beck all things are turned topsy-turvy, according to whose will all human affairs are regulated--war and peace, government and counsel, justice and treaties. he has begotten her on the nymph youth, not a senile, purblind plutus, but a fresh god, warm with youth and nectar, like another gargantua. the figure of folly, of gigantic size, looms large in the period of the renaissance. she wears a fool's cap and bells. people laughed loudly and with unconcern at all that was foolish, without discriminating between species of folly. it is remarkable that even in the _laus_, delicate as it is, the author does not distinguish between the unwise or the silly, between fools and lunatics. holbein, illustrating erasmus, knows but of one representation of a fool: with a staff and ass's ears. erasmus speaks without clear transition, now of foolish persons and now of real lunatics. they are happiest of all, he makes stultitia say: they are not frightened by spectres and apparitions; they are not tortured by the fear of impending calamities; everywhere they bring mirth, jests, frolic and laughter. evidently he here means harmless imbeciles, who, indeed, were often used as jesters. this identification of denseness and insanity is kept up, however, like the confusion of the comic and the simply ridiculous, and all this is well calculated to make us feel how wide the gap has already become that separates us from erasmus. * * * * * in later years he always spoke slightingly of his _moria_. he considered it so unimportant, he says, as to be unworthy of publication, yet no work of his had been received with such applause. it was a trifle and not at all in keeping with his character. more had made him write it, as if a camel were made to dance. but these disparaging utterances were not without a secondary purpose. the _moria_ had not brought him only success and pleasure. the exceedingly susceptible age in which he lived had taken the satire in very bad part, where it seemed to glance at offices and orders, although in his preface he had tried to safeguard himself from the reproach of irreverence. his airy play with the texts of holy scripture had been too venturesome for many. his friend martin van dorp upbraided him with having made a mock of eternal life. erasmus did what he could to convince evil-thinkers that the purpose of the _moria_ was no other than to exhort people to be virtuous. in affirming this he did his work injustice: it was much more than that. but in he was no longer what he had been in . repeatedly he had been obliged to defend his most witty work. had he known that it would offend, he might have kept it back, he writes in to an acquaintance at louvain. even towards the end of his life, he warded off the insinuations of alberto pio of carpi in a lengthy expostulation. erasmus made no further ventures in the genre of the _praise of folly_. one might consider the treatise _lingua_, which he published in , as an attempt to make a companion-piece to the _moria_. the book is called _of the use and abuse of the tongue_. in the opening pages there is something that reminds us of the style of the _laus_, but it lacks all the charm both of form and of thought. should one pity erasmus because, of all his publications, collected in ten folio volumes, only the _praise of folly_ has remained a really popular book? it is, apart from the _colloquies_, perhaps the only one of his works that is still read for its own sake. the rest is now only studied from a historical point of view, for the sake of becoming acquainted with his person or his times. it seems to me that perfect justice has been done in this case. the _praise of folly_ is his best work. he wrote other books, more erudite, some more pious--some perhaps of equal or greater influence on his time. but each has had its day. _moriae encomium_ alone was to be immortal. for only when humour illuminated that mind did it become truly profound. in the _praise of folly_ erasmus gave something that no one else could have given to the world. [illustration: xi. the last page of the _praise of folly_, with holbein's drawing of folly descending from the pulpit] [illustration: xii. the printing press of josse badius] footnotes: [ ] that he conceived the work in the alps follows from the fact that he tells us explicitly that it happened while riding, whereas, after passing through switzerland, he travelled by boat. a. , iv . . [ ] erasmus did not divide the book into chapters. it was done by an editor as late as . chapter x third stay in england - third stay in england: - --no information about two years of erasmus's life: summer, till spring--poverty-- erasmus at cambridge--relations with badius, the paris publisher--a mistake profitable to johannes froben at basle-- erasmus leaves england: --_julius exclusus_--epistle against war from the moment when erasmus, back from italy in the early summer of , is hidden from view in the house of more, to write the _praise of folly_, until nearly two years later when he comes to view again on the road to paris to have the book printed by gilles gourmont, every trace of his life has been obliterated. of the letters which during that period he wrote and received, not a single one has been preserved. perhaps it was the happiest time of his life, for it was partly spent with his tried patron, mountjoy, and also in the house of more in that noble and witty circle which to erasmus appeared ideal. that house was also frequented by the friend whom erasmus had made during his former sojourn in england, and whose mind was perhaps more congenial to him than any other, andrew ammonius. it is not improbable that during these months he was able to work without interruption at the studies to which he was irresistibly attracted, without cares as to the immediate future, and not yet burdened by excessive renown, which afterwards was to cause him as much trouble and loss as joy. that future was still uncertain. as soon as he no longer enjoys more's hospitality, the difficulties and complaints recommence. continual poverty, uncertainty and dependence were extraordinarily galling to a mind requiring above all things liberty. at paris he charged badius with a new, revised edition of the _adagia_, though the aldine might still be had there at a moderate price. the _laus_, which had just appeared at gourmont's, was reprinted at strassburg as early as , with a courteous letter by jacob wimpfeling to erasmus, but evidently without his being consulted in the matter. by that time he was back in england, had been laid up in london with a bad attack of the sweating sickness, and thence had gone to queens' college, cambridge, where he had resided before. from cambridge he writes to colet, august , in a vein of comical despair. the journey from london had been disastrous: a lame horse, no victuals for the road, rain and thunder. 'but i am almost pleased at this, i see the track of christian poverty.' a chance to make some money he does not see; he will be obliged to spend everything he can wrest from his maecenases--he, born under a wrathful mercury. this may sound somewhat gloomier than it was meant, but a few weeks later he writes again: 'oh, this begging; you laugh at me, i know. but i hate myself for it and am fully determined, either to obtain some fortune, which will relieve me from cringing, or to imitate diogenes altogether.' this refers to a dedication of a translation of basilius's commentaries on isaiah to john fisher, the bishop of rochester. colet, who had never known pecuniary cares himself, did not well understand these sallies of erasmus. he replies to them with delicate irony and covert rebuke, which erasmus, in his turn, pretends not to understand. he was now 'in want in the midst of plenty', _simul et in media copia et in summa inopia_. that is to say, he was engaged in preparing for badius's press the _de copia verborum ac rerum_, formerly begun at paris; it was dedicated to colet. 'i ask you, who can be more impudent or abject than i, who for such a long time already have been openly begging in england?' writing to ammonius he bitterly regrets having left rome and italy; how prosperity had smiled upon him there! in the same way he would afterwards lament that he had not permanently established himself in england. if he had only embraced the opportunity! he thinks. was not erasmus rather one of those people whom good fortune cannot help? he remained in trouble and his tone grows more bitter. 'i am preparing some bait against the st of january, though it is pretty sure to be in vain,' he writes to ammonius, referring to new translations of lucian and plutarch. at cambridge erasmus lectured on divinity and greek, but it brought him little success and still less profit. the long-wished-for prebend, indeed, had at last been given him, in the form of the rectory of aldington, in kent, to which archbishop william warham, his patron, appointed him in . instead of residing he was allowed to draw a pension of twenty pounds a year. the archbishop affirms explicitly that, contrary to his custom, he had granted this favour to erasmus, because he, 'a light of learning in latin and greek literature, had, out of love for england, disdained to live in italy, france, or germany, in order to pass the rest of his life here, with his friends'. we see how nations already begin to vie with each other for the honour of sheltering erasmus. relief from all cares the post did not bring. intercourse and correspondence with colet was a little soured under the light veil of jests and kindness by his constant need of money. seeking new resources by undertaking new labours, or preparing new editions of his old books, remained a hard necessity for erasmus. the great works upon which he had set his heart, and to which he had given all his energies at cambridge, held out no promise of immediate profit. his serious theological labours ranked above all others; and in these hard years, he devoted his best strength to preparation for the great edition of jerome's works and emendation of the text of the new testament, a task inspired, encouraged and promoted by colet. for his living other books had to serve. he had a sufficient number now, and the printers were eager enough about them, though the profit which the author made by them was not large. after leaving aldus at venice, erasmus had returned to the publisher who had printed for him as early as --josse badius, of brabant, who, at paris, had established the ascensian press (called after his native place, assche) and who, a scholar himself, rivalled aldus in point of the accuracy of his editions of the classics. at the time when erasmus took the _moria_ to gourmont, at paris, he had charged badius with a new edition, still to be revised, of the _adagia_. why the _moria_ was published by another, we cannot tell; perhaps badius did not like it at first. from the _adagia_ he promised himself the more profit, but that was a long work, the alterations and preface of which he was still waiting for erasmus to send. he felt very sure of his ground, for everyone knew that he, badius, was preparing the new edition. yet a rumour reached him that in germany the aldine edition was being reprinted. so there was some hurry to finish it, he wrote to erasmus in may . badius, meanwhile, had much more work of erasmus in hand, or on approval: the _copia_, which, shortly afterwards, was published by him; the _moria_, of which, at the same time, a new edition, the fifth, already had appeared; the dialogues by lucian; the euripides and seneca translations, which were to follow. he hoped to add jerome's letters to these. for the _adagia_ they had agreed upon a copy-fee of fifteen guilders; for jerome's letters badius was willing to give the same sum and as much again for the rest of the consignment. 'ah, you will say, what a very small sum! i own that by no remuneration could your genius, industry, knowledge and labour be requited, but the gods will requite you and your own virtue will be the finest reward. you have already deserved exceedingly well of greek and roman literature; you will in this same way deserve well of sacred and divine, and you will help your little badius, who has a numerous family and no earnings besides his daily trade.' erasmus must have smiled ruefully on receiving badius's letter. but he accepted the proposal readily. he promised to prepare everything for the press and, on january , he finished, in london, the preface to the revised _adagia_, for which badius was waiting. but then something happened. an agent who acted as a mediator with authors for several publishers in germany and france, one francis berckman, of cologne, took the revised copy of the _adagia_ with the preface entrusted to him by erasmus to hand over to badius, not to paris, but to basle, to johannes froben, who had just, without erasmus's leave, reprinted the venetian edition! erasmus pretended to be indignant at this mistake or perfidy, but it is only too clear that he did not regret it. six months later he betook himself with bag and baggage to basle, to enter with that same froben into those most cordial relations by which their names are united. beatus rhenanus, afterwards, made no secret of the fact that a connection with the house of froben, then still called amerbach and froben, had seemed attractive to erasmus ever since he had heard of the _adagia_ being reprinted. without conclusive proofs of his complicity, we do not like to accuse erasmus of perfidy towards badius, though his attitude is curious, to say the least. but we do want to commemorate the dignified tone in which badius, who held strict notions, as those times went, about copyright, replied, when berckman afterwards had come to offer him a sort of explanation of the case. he declares himself satisfied, though erasmus had, since that time, caused him losses in more ways, amongst others by printing a new edition of the _copia_ at strassburg. 'if, however, it is agreeable to your interests and honour, i shall suffer it, and that with equanimity.' their relations were not broken off. in all this we should not lose sight of the fact that publishing at that time was yet a quite new commercial phenomenon and that new commercial forms and relations of trade are wont to be characterized by uncertainty, confusion and lack of established business morals. the stay at cambridge gradually became irksome to erasmus. 'for some months already', he writes to ammonius in november , 'we have been leading a true snail's life, staying at home and plodding. it is very lonely here; most people have gone for fear of the plague, but even when they are all here, it is lonely.' the cost of sustenance is unbearable and he makes no money at all. if he does not succeed, that winter, in making a nest for himself, he is resolved to fly away, he does not know where. 'if to no other end, to die elsewhere.' added to the stress of circumstances, the plague, reappearing again and again, and attacks of his kidney-trouble, there came the state of war, which depressed and alarmed erasmus. in the spring of the english raid on france, long prepared, took place. in co-operation with maximilian's army the english had beaten the french near guinegate and compelled therouanne to surrender, and afterwards tournay. meanwhile the scotch invaded england, to be decisively beaten near flodden. their king, james iv, perished together with his natural son, erasmus's pupil and travelling companion in italy, alexander, archbishop of saint andrews. crowned with martial fame, henry viii returned in november to meet his parliament. erasmus did not share the universal joy and enthusiastic admiration. 'we are circumscribed here by the plague, threatened by robbers; we drink wine of the worst (because there is no import from france), but, _io triumphe!_ we are the conquerors of the world!' his deep aversion to the clamour of war, and all it represented, stimulated erasmus's satirical faculties. it is true that he flattered the english national pride by an epigram on the rout of the french near guinegate, but soon he went deeper. he remembered how war had impeded his movements in italy; how the entry of the pope-conqueror, julius ii, into bologna had outraged his feelings. 'the high priest julius wages war, conquers, triumphs and truly plays the part of julius (caesar)' he had written then. pope julius, he thought, had been the cause of all the wars spreading more and more over europe. now the pope had died in the beginning of the year . and in the deepest secrecy, between his work on the new testament and jerome, erasmus took revenge on the martial pope, for the misery of the times, by writing the masterly satire, entitled _julius exclusus_, in which the pope appears in all his glory before the gate of the heavenly paradise to plead his cause and find himself excluded. the theme was not new to him; for had he not made something similar in the witty cain fable, by which, at one time, he had cheered a dinner-party at oxford? but that was an innocent jest to which his pious fellow-guests had listened with pleasure. to the satire about the defunct pope many would, no doubt, also gladly listen, but erasmus had to be careful about it. the folly of all the world might be ridiculed, but not the worldly propensities of the recently deceased pope. therefore, though he helped in circulating copies of the manuscript, erasmus did his utmost, for the rest of his life, to preserve its anonymity, and when it was universally known and had appeared in print, and he was presumed to be the author, he always cautiously denied the fact; although he was careful to use such terms as to avoid a formal denial. the first edition of the _julius_ was published at basle, not by froben, erasmus's ordinary publisher, but by cratander, probably in the year . erasmus's need of protesting against warfare had not been satisfied by writing the _julius_. in march , no longer at cambridge, but in london, he wrote a letter to his former patron, the abbot of saint bertin, anthony of bergen, in which he enlarges upon the folly of waging war. would that a christian peace were concluded between christian princes! perhaps the abbot might contribute to that consummation through his influence with the youthful charles v and especially with his grandfather maximilian. erasmus states quite frankly that the war has suddenly changed the spirit of england. he would like to return to his native country if the prince would procure him the means to live there in peace. it is a remarkable fact and of true erasmian naïveté that he cannot help mixing up his personal interests with his sincere indignation at the atrocities disgracing a man and a christian. 'the war has suddenly altered the spirit of this island. the cost of living rises every day and generosity decreases. through lack of wine i nearly perished by gravel, contracted by taking bad stuff. we are confined in this island, more than ever, so that even letters are not carried abroad.' this was the first of erasmus's anti-war writings. he expanded it into the adage _dulce bellum inexpertis_, which was inserted into the _adagia_ edition of , published by froben and afterwards also printed separately. hereafter we shall follow up this line of erasmus's ideas as a whole. though the summer of was to bring peace between england and france, erasmus had now definitely made up his mind to leave england. he sent his trunks to antwerp, to his friend peter gilles and prepared to go to the netherlands, after a short visit to mountjoy at the castle of hammes near calais. shortly before his departure from london he had a curious interview with a papal diplomat, working in the cause of peace, count canossa, at ammonius's house on the thames. ammonius passed him off on erasmus as a merchant. after the meal the italian sounded him as to a possible return to rome, where he might be the first in place instead of living alone among a barbarous nation. erasmus replied that he lived in a land that contained the greatest number of excellent scholars, among whom he would be content with the humblest place. this compliment was his farewell to england, which had favoured him so. some days later, in the first half of july , he was on the other side of the channel. on three more occasions he paid short visits to england, but he lived there no more. [illustration: xiii. johannes froben, - reproduced by gracious permission of h.m. the queen] [illustration: xiv. the printer's emblem of johannes froben] chapter xi a light of theology - on the way to success and satisfaction--his prior calls him back to steyn--he refuses to comply--first journey to basle: - --cordial welcome in germany--johannes froben--editions of jerome and the new testament--a councillor to prince charles: _institutio principis christiani_, --definitive dispensation from monastic vows: --fame--erasmus as a spiritual centre--his correspondence--letter-writing as an art--its dangers--a glorious age at hand erasmus had, as was usual with him, enveloped his departure from england with mystery. it was given out that he was going to rome to redeem a pledge. probably he had already determined to try his fortune in the netherlands; not in holland, but in the neighbourhood of the princely court in brabant. the chief object of his journey, however, was to visit froben's printing-office at basle, personally to supervise the publication of the numerous works, old and new, which he brought with him, among them the material for his chosen task, the new testament and jerome, by which he hoped to effect the restoration of theology, which he had long felt to be his life-work. it is easy thus to imagine his anxiety when during the crossing he discovered that his hand-bag, containing the manuscripts, was found to have been taken on board another ship. he felt bereft, having lost the labour of so many years; a sorrow so great, he writes, as only parents can feel at the loss of their children. to his joy, however, he found his manuscripts safe on the other side. at the castle of hammes near calais, he stayed for some days, the guest of mountjoy. there, on july, a letter found him, written on april by his superior, the prior of steyn, his old friend servatius rogerus, recalling him to the monastery after so many years of absence. the letter had already been in the hands of more than one prying person, before it reached him by mere chance. it was a terrific blow, which struck him in the midst of his course to his highest aspirations. erasmus took counsel for a day and then sent a refusal. to his old friend, in addressing whom he always found the most serious accents of his being, he wrote a letter which he meant to be a justification and which was self-contemplation, much deeper and more sincere than the one which, at a momentous turning-point of his life, had drawn from him his _carmen alpestre_. he calls upon god to be his witness that he would follow the purest inspiration of his life. but to return to the monastery! he reminds servatius of the circumstances under which he entered it, as they lived in his memory: the pressure of his relations, his false modesty. he points out to him how ill monastic life had suited his constitution, how it outraged his love of freedom, how detrimental it would be to his delicate health, if now resumed. had he, then, lived a worse life in the world? literature had kept him from many vices. his restless life could not redound to his dishonour, though only with diffidence did he dare to appeal to the examples of solon, pythagoras, st. paul and his favourite jerome. had he not everywhere won recognition from friends and patrons? he enumerates them: cardinals, archbishops, bishops, mountjoy, the universities of oxford and cambridge, and, lastly, john colet. was there, then, any objection to his works: the _enchiridion_, the _adagia_? (he did not mention the _moria_.) the best was still to follow: jerome and the new testament. the fact that, since his stay in italy, he had laid aside the habit of his order and wore a common clerical dress, he could excuse on a number of grounds. the conclusion was: i shall not return to holland. 'i know that i shall not be able to stand the air and the food there; all eyes will be directed to me. i shall return to the country, an old and grey man, who left it as a youth; i shall return a valetudinarian; i shall be exposed to the contempt even of the lowest, i, who am accustomed to be honoured even by the greatest.' 'it is not possible', he concludes, 'to speak out frankly in a letter. i am now going to basle and thence to rome, perhaps, but on my return i shall try to visit you ... i have heard of the deaths of william, francis and andrew (his old dutch friends). remember me to master henry and the others who live with you; i am disposed towards them as befits me. for those old tragedies i ascribe to my errors, or if you like to my fate. do not omit to commend me to christ in your prayers. if i knew for sure that it would be pleasing to him that i should return to live with you, i should prepare for the journey this very day. farewell, my former sweetest companion, now my venerable father.' underlying the immediate motives of his high theological aspirations, this refusal was doubtless actuated by his ancient, inveterate, psychological incentives of disgust and shame.[ ] * * * * * through the southern netherlands, where he visited several friends and patrons and renewed his acquaintance with the university of louvain, erasmus turned to the rhine and reached basle in the second half of august . there such pleasures of fame awaited him as he had never yet tasted. the german humanists hailed him as the light of the world--in letters, receptions and banquets. they were more solemn and enthusiastic than erasmus had found the scholars of france, england and italy, to say nothing of his compatriots; and they applauded him emphatically as being a german himself and an ornament of germany. at his first meeting with froben, erasmus permitted himself the pleasure of a jocular deception: he pretended to be a friend and agent of himself, to enjoy to the full the joy of being recognized. the german environment was rather to his mind: '_my_ germany, which to my regret and shame i got to know so late'. soon the work for which he had come was in full swing. he was in his element once more, as he had been at venice six years before: working hard in a large printing-office, surrounded by scholars, who heaped upon him homage and kindness in those rare moments of leisure which he permitted himself. 'i move in a most agreeable museon: so many men of learning, and of such exceptional learning!' some translations of the lesser works of plutarch were published by froben in august. the _adagia_ was passing through the press again with corrections and additions, and the preface which was originally destined for badius. at the same time dirck maertensz, at louvain, was also at work for erasmus, who had, on passing through the town, entrusted him with a collection of easy latin texts; also m. schürer at strassburg, who prepared the _parabolae sive similia_ for him. for froben, too, erasmus was engaged on a seneca, which appeared in , together with a work on latin construction. but jerome and the new testament remained his chief occupation. jerome's works had been erasmus's love in early youth, especially his letters. the plan of preparing a correct edition of the great father of the church was conceived in , if not earlier, and he had worked at it ever since, at intervals. in he writes to ammonius: 'my enthusiasm for emending and annotating jerome is such that i feel as though inspired by some god. i have almost completely emended him already by collating many old manuscripts. and this i do at incredibly great expense.' in he negotiated with badius about an edition of the letters. froben's partner, johannes amerbach, who died before erasmus's arrival, had been engaged for years on an edition of jerome. several scholars, reuchlin among others, had assisted in the undertaking when erasmus offered himself and all his material. he became the actual editor. of the nine volumes, in which froben published the work in , the first four contained erasmus's edition of jerome's letters; the others had been corrected by him and provided with forewords. his work upon the new testament was, if possible, still nearer his heart. by its growth it had gradually changed its nature. since the time when valla's _annotationes_ had directed his attention to textual criticism of the vulgate, erasmus had, probably during his second stay in england from to , at the instance of colet, made a new translation of the new testament from the greek original, which translation differed greatly from the vulgate. besides colet, few had seen it. later, erasmus understood it was necessary to publish also a new edition of the greek text, with his notes. as to this he had made a provisional arrangement with froben, shortly after his arrival at basle. afterwards he considered that it would be better to have it printed in italy, and was on the point of going there when, possibly persuaded by new offers from froben, he suddenly changed his plan of travel and in the spring of made a short trip to england--probably, among other reasons, for the purpose of securing a copy of his translation of the new testament, which he had left behind there. in the summer he was back at basle and resumed the work in froben's printing-office. in the beginning of the _novum instrumentum_ appeared, containing the purified greek text with notes, together with a latin translation in which erasmus had altered too great deviations from the vulgate. from the moment of the appearance of two such important and, as regards the second, such daring theological works by erasmus as jerome and the new testament, we may say that he had made himself the centre of the scientific study of divinity, as he was at the same time the centre and touchstone of classic erudition and literary taste. his authority constantly increased in all countries, his correspondence was prodigiously augmented. but while his mental growth was accomplished, his financial position was not assured. the years to are among the most restless of his life; he is still looking out for every chance which presents itself, a canonry at tournay, a prebend in england, a bishopric in sicily, always half jocularly regretting the good chances he missed in former times, jesting about his pursuit of fortune, lamenting about his 'spouse, execrable poverty, which even yet i have not succeeded in shaking off my shoulders'. and, after all, ever more the victim of his own restlessness than of the disfavour of fate. he is now fifty years old and still he is, as he says, 'sowing without knowing what i shall reap'. this, however, only refers to his career, not to his life-work. in the course of a new and promising patron, john le sauvage, chancellor of brabant, had succeeded in procuring for him the title of councillor of the prince, the youthful charles v. in the beginning of he was nominated: it was a mere title of honour, promising a yearly pension of florins, which, however, was paid but irregularly. to habilitate himself as a councillor of the prince, erasmus wrote the _institutio principis christiani_, a treatise about the education of a prince, which in accordance with erasmus's nature and inclination deals rather with moral than with political matters, and is in striking contrast with that other work, written some years earlier, _il principe_ by machiavelli. when his work at basle ceased for the time being, in the spring of , erasmus journeyed to the netherlands. at brussels he met the chancellor, who, in addition to the prince's pension, procured him a prebend at courtray, which, like the english benefice mentioned above, was compounded for by money payments. at antwerp lived one of the great friends who helped in his support all his life: peter gilles, the young town clerk, in whose house he stayed as often as he came to antwerp. peter gilles is the man who figures in more's _utopia_ as the person in whose garden the sailor tells his experiences; it was in these days that gilles helped dirck maertensz, at louvain, to pass the first edition of the _utopia_ through the press. later quentin metsys was to paint him and erasmus, joined in a diptych; a present for thomas more and for us a vivid memorial of one of the best things erasmus ever knew: this triple friendship. in the summer of erasmus made another short trip to england. he stayed with more, saw colet again, also warham, fisher, and the other friends. but it was not to visit old friends that he went there. a pressing and delicate matter impelled him. now that prebends and church dignities began to be presented to him, it was more urgent than ever that the impediments in the way of a free ecclesiastical career should be permanently obviated. he was provided with a dispensation of pope julius ii, authorizing him to accept english prebends, and another exempting him from the obligation of wearing the habit of his order. but both were of limited scope, and insufficient. the fervent impatience with which he conducted this matter of his definite discharge from the order makes it probable that, as dr. allen presumes, the threat of his recall to steyn had, since his refusal to servatius in , hung over his head. there was nothing he feared and detested so much. with his friend ammonius he drew up, in london, a very elaborate paper, addressed to the apostolic chancery, in which he recounts the story of his own life as that of one florentius: his half-enforced entrance to the monastery, the troubles which monastic life had brought him, the circumstances which had induced him to lay his monk's dress aside. it is a passionate apology, pathetic and ornate. the letter, as we know it, does not contain a direct request. in an appendix at the end, written in cipher, of which he sent the key in sympathetic ink in another letter, the chancery was requested to obviate the impediments which erasmus's illegitimate birth placed in the way of his promotion. the addressee, lambertus grunnius, apostolic secretary, was most probably an imaginary personage.[ ] so much mystery did erasmus use when his vital interests were at stake. the bishop of worcester, silvestro gigli, who was setting out to the lateran council, as the envoy of england, took upon himself to deliver the letter and to plead erasmus's cause. erasmus, having meanwhile at the end of august returned to the netherlands, awaited the upshot of his kind offices in the greatest suspense. the matter was finally settled in january . in two letters bearing the signature of sadolet, leo x condoned erasmus's transgressions of ecclesiastical law, relieved him of the obligation to wear the dress of his order, allowed him to live in the world and authorized him to hold church benefices in spite of any disqualifications arising from illegitimacy of birth. so much his great fame had now achieved. the pope had moreover accepted the dedication of the edition of the new testament, and had, through sadolet, expressed himself in very gracious terms about erasmus's work in general. rome itself seemed to further his endeavours in all respects. erasmus now thought of establishing himself permanently in the netherlands, to which everything pointed. louvain seemed to be the most suitable abode, the centre of studies, where he had already spent two years in former times. but louvain did not attract him. it was the stronghold of conservative theology. martin van dorp, a dutchman like erasmus, and professor of divinity at louvain, had, in , in the name of his faculty, rebuked erasmus in a letter for the audacity of the _praise of folly_, his derision of divines and also his temerity in correcting the text of the new testament. erasmus had defended himself elaborately. at present war was being waged in a much wider field: for or against reuchlin, the great hebrew scholar, for whom the authors of the _epistolae obscurorum virorum_ had so sensationally taken up the cudgels. at louvain erasmus was regarded with the same suspicion with which he distrusted dorp and the other louvain divines. he stayed during the remainder of and the first half of at antwerp, brussels and ghent, often in the house of peter gilles. in february , there came tempting offers from france. budaeus, cop, Étienne poncher, bishop of paris, wrote to him that the king, the youthful francis i, would present him with a generous prebend if he would come to paris. erasmus, always shy of being tied down, only wrote polite, evasive answers, and did not go. * * * * * in the meantime he received the news of the papal absolution. in connection with this he had, once more, to visit england, little dreaming that it would be the last time he should set foot on british soil. in ammonius's house of saint stephen's chapel at westminster on april , the ceremony of absolution took place, ridding erasmus for good of the nightmare which had oppressed him since his youth. at last he was free! invitations and specious promises now came to him from all sides. mountjoy and wolsey spoke of high ecclesiastical honours which awaited him in england. budaeus kept pressing him to remove to france. cardinal ximenes wanted to attach him to the university of alcalá, in spain. the duke of saxony offered him a chair at leipzig. pirckheimer boasted of the perfections of the free imperial city of nuremberg. erasmus, meanwhile, overwhelmed again with the labour of writing and editing, according to his wont, did not definitely decline any of these offers; neither did he accept any. he always wanted to keep all his strings on his bow at the same time. in the early summer of he was asked to accompany the court of the youthful charles, who was on the point of leaving the netherlands for spain. but he declined. his departure to spain would have meant a long interruption of immediate contact with the great publishing centres, basle, louvain, strassburg, paris, and that, in turn, would have meant postponement of his life-work. when, in the beginning of july, the prince set out for middelburg, there to take ship for spain, erasmus started for louvain. he was thus destined to go to this university environment, although it displeased him in so many respects. there he would have academic duties, young latinists would follow him about to get their poems and letters corrected by him and all those divines, whom he distrusted, would watch him at close quarters. but it was only to be for a few months. 'i have removed to louvain', he writes to the archbishop of canterbury, 'till i shall decide which residence is best suited to old age, which is already knocking at the gate importunately.' as it turned out, he was to spend four years ( - ) at louvain. his life was now becoming more stationary, but because of outward circumstances rather than of inward quiet. he kept deliberating all those years whether he should go to england, germany or france, hoping at last to find the brilliant position which he had always coveted and never had been able or willing to grasp. the years - may be called the culmination of erasmus's career. applauding crowds surrounded him more and more. the minds of men were seemingly prepared for something great to happen and they looked to erasmus as the man! at brussels, he was continually bothered with visits from spaniards, italians and germans who wanted to boast of their interviews with him. the spaniards, with their verbose solemnity, particularly bored him. most exuberant of all were the eulogies with which the german humanists greeted him in their letters. this had begun already on his first journey to basle in . 'great rotterdamer', 'ornament of germany', 'ornament of the world' were some of the simplest effusions. town councils waited upon him, presents of wine and public banquets were of common occurrence. no one expresses himself so hyperbolically as the jurist ulrich zasius of freiburg. 'i am pointed out in public', he asserts, 'as the man who has received a letter from erasmus.' 'thrice greatest hero, you great jove' is a moderate apostrophe for him. 'the swiss', zwingli writes in , 'account it a great glory to have seen erasmus.' 'i know and i teach nothing but erasmus now,' writes wolfgang capito. ulrich von hutten and henry glareanus both imagine themselves placed beside erasmus, as alcibiades stood beside socrates. and beatus rhenanus devotes to him a life of earnest admiration and helpfulness that was to prove of much more value than these exuberant panegyrics. there is an element of national exaltation in this german enthusiasm for erasmus: it is the violently stimulated mood into which luther's word will fall anon. the other nations also chimed in with praise, though a little later and a little more soberly. colet and tunstall promise him immortality, Étienne poncher exalts him above the celebrated italian humanists, germain de brie declares that french scholars have ceased reading any authors but erasmus, and budaeus announces that all western christendom resounds with his name. this increase of glory manifested itself in different ways. almost every year the rumour of his death was spread abroad, malignantly, as he himself thinks. again, all sorts of writings were ascribed to him in which he had no share whatever, amongst others the _epistolae obscurorum virorum_. but, above all, his correspondence increased immensely. the time was long since past when he asked more to procure him more correspondents. letters now kept pouring in to him, from all sides, beseeching him to reply. a former pupil laments with tears that he cannot show a single note written by erasmus. scholars respectfully sought an introduction from one of his friends, before venturing to address him. in this respect erasmus was a man of heroic benevolence, and tried to answer what he could, although so overwhelmed by letters every day that he hardly found time to read them. 'if i do not answer, i seem unkind,' says erasmus, and that thought was intolerable. we should bear in mind that letter-writing, at that time, occupied more or less the place of the newspaper at present, or rather of the literary monthly, which arose fairly directly out of erudite correspondence. it was, as in antiquity--which in this respect was imitated better and more profitably, perhaps, than in any other sphere--an art. even before erasmus had, at paris, described that art in the treatise, _de conscribendis epistolis_, which was to appear in print in . people wrote, as a rule, with a view to later publication, for a wider circle, or at any rate, with the certainty that the recipient would show the letter to others. a fine latin letter was a gem, which a man envied his neighbour. erasmus writes to budaeus: 'tunstall has devoured your letter to me and re-read it as many as three or four times; i had literally to tear it from his hands.' unfortunately fate did not always take into consideration the author's intentions as to publicity, semi-publicity or strict secrecy. often letters passed through many hands before reaching their destination, as did servatius's letter to erasmus in . 'do be careful about letters,' he writes more than once; 'waylayers are on the lookout to intercept them.' yet, with the curious precipitation that characterizes him, erasmus was often very careless as to what he wrote. from an early age he preserved and cared for his letters, yet nevertheless, through his itinerant life, many were lost. he could not control their publication. as early as a friend sent him a manuscript volume of his own (erasmus's) letters, that he had picked up for sale at rome. erasmus had it burnt at once. since he himself superintended the publication of his letters; at first only a few important ones; afterwards in a selection of letters from friends to him, and after that ever larger collections till, at the end of his life, there appeared a new collection almost every year. no article was so much in demand on the book market as letters by erasmus, and no wonder. they were models of excellent style, tasteful latin, witty expression and elegant erudition. the semi-private, semi-public character of the letters often made them compromising. what one could say to a friend in confidence might possibly injure when many read it. erasmus, who never was aware how injuriously he expressed himself, repeatedly gave rise to misunderstanding and estrangement. manners, so to say, had not yet adapted themselves to the new art of printing, which increased the publicity of the written word a thousandfold. only gradually under this new influence was the separation effected between the public word, intended for the press, and the private communication, which remains in writing and is read only by the recipient. meanwhile, with the growth of erasmus's fame, his earlier writings, too, had risen in the public estimation. the great success of the _enchiridion militis christiani_ had begun about , when the times were much riper for it than eleven years before. 'the _moria_ is embraced as the highest wisdom,' writes john watson to him in . in the same year we find a word used, for the first time, which expresses better than anything else how much erasmus had become a centre of authority: _erasmiani_. so his german friends called themselves, according to johannes sapidus. more than a year later dr. johannes eck employs the word still in a rather friendly sense, as a generally current term: 'all scholars in germany are erasmians,' he says. but erasmus did not like the word. 'i find nothing in myself', he replies, 'why anyone should wish to be an erasmicus, and, altogether, i hate those party names. we are all followers of christ, and to his glory we all drudge, each for his part.' but he knows that now the question is: for or against him! from the brilliant latinist and the man of wit of his prime he had become the international pivot on which the civilization of his age hinged. he could not help beginning to feel himself the brain, the heart and the conscience of his times. it might even appear to him that he was called to speak the great redeeming word or, perhaps, that he had already spoken it. the faith in an easy triumph of pure knowledge and christian meekness in a near future speaks from the preface of erasmus's edition of the new testament. how clear did the future look in those years! in this period erasmus repeatedly reverts to the glad motif of a golden age, which is on the point of dawning. perennial peace is before the door. the highest princes of the world, francis i of france, charles, king of spain, henry viii of england, and the emperor maximilian have ensured peace by the strongest ties. uprightness and christian piety will flourish together with the revival of letters and the sciences. as at a given signal the mightiest minds conspire to restore a high standard of culture. we may congratulate the age, it will be a golden one. but erasmus does not sound this note long. it is heard for the last time in ; after which the dream of universal happiness about to dawn gives place to the usual complaint about the badness of the times everywhere. footnotes: [ ] for a full translation of this important letter see pp. - . [ ] the name grunnius may have been taken from jerome's epistles, where it is a nickname for a certain ruffinus, whom jerome disliked very much. it appears again in a letter of march , lb. x a. chapter xii erasmus's mind erasmus's mind: ethical and aesthetic tendencies, aversion to all that is unreasonable, silly and cumbrous--his vision of antiquity pervaded by christian faith--renascence of good learning--the ideal life of serene harmony and happy wisdom--love of the decorous and smooth--his mind neither philosophic nor historical, but strongly philological and moralistic--freedom, clearness, purity, simplicity--faith in nature--educational and social ideas what made erasmus the man from whom his contemporaries expected their salvation, on whose lips they hung to catch the word of deliverance? he seemed to them the bearer of a new liberty of the mind, a new clearness, purity and simplicity of knowledge, a new harmony of healthy and right living. he was to them as the possessor of newly discovered, untold wealth which he had only to distribute. what was there in the mind of the great rotterdamer which promised so much to the world? the negative aspect of erasmus's mind may be defined as a heartfelt aversion to everything unreasonable, insipid, purely formal, with which the undisturbed growth of medieval culture had overburdened and overcrowded the world of thought. as often as he thinks of the ridiculous text-books out of which latin was taught in his youth, disgust rises in his mind, and he execrates them--mammetrectus, brachylogus, ebrardus and all the rest--as a heap of rubbish which ought to be cleared away. but this aversion to the superannuated, which had become useless and soulless, extended much farther. he found society, and especially religious life, full of practices, ceremonies, traditions and conceptions, from which the spirit seemed to have departed. he does not reject them offhand and altogether: what revolts him is that they are so often performed without understanding and right feeling. but to his mind, highly susceptible to the foolish and ridiculous things, and with a delicate need of high decorum and inward dignity, all that sphere of ceremony and tradition displays itself as a useless, nay, a hurtful scene of human stupidity and selfishness. and, intellectualist as he is, with his contempt for ignorance, he seems unaware that those religious observances, after all, may contain valuable sentiments of unexpressed and unformulated piety. through his treatises, his letters, his _colloquies_ especially, there always passes--as if one was looking at a gallery of brueghel's pictures--a procession of ignorant and covetous monks who by their sanctimony and humbug impose upon the trustful multitude and fare sumptuously themselves. as a fixed motif (such motifs are numerous with erasmus) there always recurs his gibe about the superstition that a person was saved by dying in the gown of a franciscan or a dominican. fasting, prescribed prayers, the observance of holy days, should not be altogether neglected, but they become displeasing to god when we repose our trust in them and forget charity. the same holds good of confession, indulgence, all sorts of blessings. pilgrimages are worthless. the veneration of the saints and of their relics is full of superstition and foolishness. the people think they will be preserved from disasters during the day if only they have looked at the painted image of saint christopher in the morning. 'we kiss the shoes of the saints and their dirty handkerchiefs and we leave their books, their most holy and efficacious relics, neglected.' erasmus's dislike of what seemed antiquated and worn out in his days, went farther still. it comprised the whole intellectual scheme of medieval theology and philosophy. in the syllogistic system he found only subtlety and arid ingenuity. all symbolism and allegory were fundamentally alien to him and indifferent, though he occasionally tried his hand at an allegory; and he never was mystically inclined. now here it is just as much the deficiencies of his own mind as the qualities of the system which made him unable to appreciate it. while he struck at the abuse of ceremonies and of church practices both with noble indignation and well-aimed mockery, a proud irony to which he was not fully entitled preponderates in his condemnation of scholastic theology which he could not quite understand. it was easy always to talk with a sneer of the conservative divines of his time as _magistri nostri_. his noble indignation hurt only those who deserved castigation and strengthened what was valuable, but his mockery hurt the good as well as the bad in spite of him, assailed both the institution and persons, and injured without elevating them. the individualist erasmus never understood what it meant to offend the honour of an office, an order, or an establishment, especially when that institution is the most sacred of all, the church itself. erasmus's conception of the church was no longer purely catholic. of that glorious structure of medieval-christian civilization with its mystic foundation, its strict hierarchic construction, its splendidly fitting symmetry he saw hardly anything but its load of outward details and ornament. instead of the world which thomas aquinas and dante had described, according to their vision, erasmus saw another world, full of charm and elevated feeling, and this he held up before his compatriots. [illustration: xv. the hands of erasmus] it was the world of antiquity, but illuminated throughout by christian faith. it was a world that had never existed as such. for with the historical reality which the times of constantine and the great fathers of the church had manifested--that of declining latinity and deteriorating hellenism, the oncoming barbarism and the oncoming byzantinism--it had nothing in common. erasmus's imagined world was an amalgamation of pure classicism (this meant for him, cicero, horace, plutarch; for to the flourishing period of the greek mind he remained after all a stranger) and pure, biblical christianity. could it be a union? not really. in erasmus's mind the light falls, just as we saw in the history of his career, alternately on the pagan antique and on the christian. but the warp of his mind is christian; his classicism only serves him as a form, and from antiquity he only chooses those elements which in ethical tendency are in conformity with his christian ideal. [illustration: xvi. erasmus at the age of ] and because of this, erasmus, although he appeared after a century of earlier humanism, is yet new to his time. the union of antiquity and the christian spirit which had haunted the mind of petrarch, the father of humanism, which was lost sight of by his disciples, enchanted as they were by the irresistible brilliance of the antique beauty of form, this union was brought about by erasmus. what pure latinity and the classic spirit meant to erasmus we cannot feel as he did because its realization does not mean to us, as to him, a difficult conquest and a glorious triumph. to feel it thus one must have acquired, in a hard school, the hatred of barbarism, which already during his first years of authorship had suggested the composition of the _antibarbari_. the abusive term for all that is old and rude is already gothic, goths. the term barbarism as used by erasmus comprised much of what we value most in the medieval spirit. erasmus's conception of the great intellectual crisis of his day was distinctly dualistic. he saw it as a struggle between old and new, which, to him, meant evil and good. in the advocates of tradition he saw only obscurantism, conservatism, and ignorant opposition to _bonae literae_, that is, the good cause for which he and his partisans battled. of the rise of that higher culture erasmus had already formed the conception which has since dominated the history of the renaissance. it was a revival, begun two or three hundred years before his time, in which, besides literature, all the plastic arts shared. side by side with the terms restitution and reflorescence the word renascence crops up repeatedly in his writings. 'the world is coming to its senses as if awaking out of a deep sleep. still there are some left who recalcitrate pertinaciously, clinging convulsively with hands and feet to their old ignorance. they fear that if _bonae literae_ are reborn and the world grows wise, it will come to light that they have known nothing.' they do not know how pious the ancients could be, what sanctity characterizes socrates, virgil, and horace, or plutarch's _moralia_, how rich the history of antiquity is in examples of forgiveness and true virtue. we should call nothing profane that is pious and conduces to good morals. no more dignified view of life was ever found than that which cicero propounds in _de senectute_. in order to understand erasmus's mind and the charm which it had for his contemporaries, one must begin with the ideal of life that was present before his inward eye as a splendid dream. it is not his own in particular. the whole renaissance cherished that wish of reposeful, blithe, and yet serious intercourse of good and wise friends in the cool shade of a house under trees, where serenity and harmony would dwell. the age yearned for the realization of simplicity, sincerity, truth and nature. their imagination was always steeped in the essence of antiquity, though, at heart, it is more nearly connected with medieval ideals than they themselves were aware. in the circle of the medici it is the idyll of careggi, in rabelais it embodies itself in the fancy of the abbey of thélème; it finds voice in more's _utopia_ and in the work of montaigne. in erasmus's writings that ideal wish ever recurs in the shape of a friendly walk, followed by a meal in a garden-house. it is found as an opening scene of the _antibarbari_, in the numerous descriptions of meals with colet, and the numerous _convivia_ of the _colloquies_. especially in the _convivium religiosum_ erasmus has elaborately pictured his dream, and it would be worth while to compare it, on the one hand with thélème, and on the other with the fantastic design of a pleasure garden which bernard palissy describes. the little dutch eighteenth-century country-seats and garden-houses in which the national spirit took great delight are the fulfilment of a purely erasmian ideal. the host of the _convivium religiosum_ says: 'to me a simple country-house, a nest, is pleasanter than any palace, and, if he be king who lives in freedom and according to his wishes, surely i am king here'. life's true joy is in virtue and piety. if they are epicureans who live pleasantly, then none are more truly epicureans than they who live in holiness and piety. the ideal joy of life is also perfectly idyllic in so far that it requires an aloofness from earthly concerns and contempt for all that is sordid. it is foolish to be interested in all that happens in the world; to pride oneself on one's knowledge of the market, of the king of england's plans, the news from rome, conditions in denmark. the sensible old man of the _colloquium senile_ has an easy post of honour, a safe mediocrity, he judges no one and nothing and smiles upon all the world. quiet for oneself, surrounded by books--that is of all things most desirable. on the outskirts of this ideal of serenity and harmony numerous flowers of aesthetic value blow, such as erasmus's sense of decorum, his great need of kindly courtesy, his pleasure in gentle and obliging treatment, in cultured and easy manners. close by are some of his intellectual peculiarities. he hates the violent and extravagant. therefore the choruses of the greek drama displease him. the merit of his own poems he sees in the fact that they pass passion by, they abstain from pathos altogether--'there is not a single storm in them, no mountain torrent overflowing its banks, no exaggeration whatever. there is great frugality in words. my poetry would rather keep within bounds than exceed them, rather hug the shore than cleave the high seas.' in another place he says: 'i am always most pleased by a poem that does not differ too much from prose, but prose of the best sort, be it understood. as philoxenus accounted those the most palatable fishes that are no true fishes and the most savoury meat what is no meat, the most pleasant voyage, that along the shores, and the most agreeable walk, that along the water's edge; so i take especial pleasure in a rhetorical poem and a poetical oration, so that poetry is tasted in prose and the reverse.' that is the man of half-tones, of fine shadings, of the thought that is never completely expressed. but he adds: 'farfetched conceits may please others; to me the chief concern seems to be that we draw our speech from the matter itself and apply ourselves less to showing off our invention than to present the thing.' that is the realist. from this conception results his admirable, simple clarity, the excellent division and presentation of his argument. but it also causes his lack of depth and the prolixity by which he is characterized. his machine runs too smoothly. in the endless _apologiae_ of his later years, ever new arguments occur to him; new passages to point, or quotations to support, his idea. he praises laconism, but never practises it. erasmus never coins a sentence which, rounded off and pithy, becomes a proverb and in this manner lives. there are no current quotations from erasmus. the collector of the _adagia_ has created no new ones of his own. the true occupation for a mind like his was paraphrasing, in which, indeed, he amply indulged. soothing down and unfolding was just the work he liked. it is characteristic that he paraphrased the whole new testament except the apocalypse. erasmus's mind was neither philosophic nor historic. his was neither the work of exact, logical discrimination, nor of grasping the deep sense of the way of the world in broad historical visions in which the particulars themselves, in their multiplicity and variegation, form the image. his mind is philological in the fullest sense of the word. but by that alone he would not have conquered and captivated the world. his mind was at the same time of a deeply ethical and rather strong aesthetic trend and those three together have made him great. the foundation of erasmus's mind is his fervent desire of freedom, clearness, purity, simplicity and rest. it is an old ideal of life to which he gave new substance by the wealth of his mind. without liberty, life is no life; and there is no liberty without repose. the fact that he never took sides definitely resulted from an urgent need of perfect independence. each engagement, even a temporary one, was felt as a fetter by erasmus. an interlocutor in the _colloquies_, in which he so often, spontaneously, reveals his own ideals of life, declares himself determined neither to marry, nor to take holy orders, nor to enter a monastery, nor into any connection from which he will afterwards be unable to free himself--at least not before he knows himself completely. 'when will that be? never, perhaps.' 'on no other account do i congratulate myself more than on the fact that i have never attached myself to any party,' erasmus says towards the end of his life. liberty should be spiritual liberty in the first place. 'but he that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man,' is the word of saint paul. to what purpose should he require prescriptions who, of his own accord, does better things than human laws require? what arrogance it is to bind by institutions a man who is clearly led by the inspirations of the divine spirit! in erasmus we already find the beginning of that optimism which judges upright man good enough to dispense with fixed forms and rules. as more, in _utopia_, and rabelais, erasmus relies already on the dictates of nature, which produces man as inclined to good and which we may follow, provided we are imbued with faith and piety. in this line of confidence in what is natural and desire of the simple and reasonable, erasmus's educational and social ideas lie. here he is far ahead of his times. it would be an attractive undertaking to discuss erasmus's educational ideals more fully. they foreshadow exactly those of the eighteenth century. the child should learn in playing, by means of things that are agreeable to its mind, from pictures. its faults should be gently corrected. the flogging and abusive schoolmaster is erasmus's abomination; the office itself is holy and venerable to him. education should begin from the moment of birth. probably erasmus attached too much value to classicism, here as elsewhere: his friend peter gilles should implant the rudiments of the ancient languages in his two-year-old son, that he may greet his father with endearing stammerings in greek and latin. but what gentleness and clear good sense shines from all erasmus says about instruction and education! the same holds good of his views about marriage and woman. in the problem of sexual relations he distinctly sides with the woman from deep conviction. there is a great deal of tenderness and delicate feeling in his conception of the position of the girl and the woman. few characters of the _colloquies_ have been drawn with so much sympathy as the girl with the lover and the cultured woman in the witty conversation with the abbot. erasmus's ideal of marriage is truly social and hygienic. let us beget children for the state and for christ, says the lover, children endowed by their upright parents with a good disposition, children who see the good example at home which is to guide them. again and again he reverts to the mother's duty to suckle the child herself. he indicates how the house should be arranged, in a simple and cleanly manner; he occupies himself with the problem of useful children's dress. who stood up at that time, as he did, for the fallen girl, and for the prostitute compelled by necessity? who saw so clearly the social danger of marriages of persons infected with the new scourge of europe, so violently abhorred by erasmus? he would wish that such a marriage should at once be declared null and void by the pope. erasmus does not hold with the easy social theory, still quite current in the literature of his time, which casts upon women all the blame of adultery and lewdness. with the savages who live in a state of nature, he says, the adultery of men is punished, but that of women is forgiven. here it appears, at the same time, that erasmus knew, be it half in jest, the conception of natural virtue and happiness of naked islanders in a savage state. it soon crops up again in montaigne and the following centuries develop it into a literary dogma. chapter xiii erasmus's mind-continued erasmus's mind: intellectual tendencies--the world encumbered by beliefs and forms--truth must be simple--back to the pure sources--holy scripture in the original languages--biblical humanism--critical work on the texts of scripture--practice better than dogma--erasmus's talent and wit--delight in words and things--prolixity--observation of details--a veiled realism--ambiguousness--the 'nuance'--inscrutability of the ultimate ground of all things simplicity, naturalness, purity, and reasonableness, those are to erasmus the dominant requirements, also when we pass from his ethical and aesthetic concepts to his intellectual point of view; indeed, the two can hardly be kept apart. the world, says erasmus, is overloaded with human constitutions and opinions and scholastic dogmas, and overburdened with the tyrannical authority of orders, and because of all this the strength of gospel doctrine is flagging. faith requires simplification, he argued. what would the turks say of our scholasticism? colet wrote to him one day: 'there is no end to books and science. let us, therefore, leave all roundabout roads and go by a short cut to the truth.' truth must be simple. 'the language of truth is simple, says seneca; well then, nothing is simpler nor truer than christ.' 'i should wish', erasmus says elsewhere, 'that this simple and pure christ might be deeply impressed upon the mind of men, and that i deem best attainable in this way, that we, supported by our knowledge of the original languages, should philosophize _at the sources_ themselves.' here a new watchword comes to the fore: back to the sources! it is not merely an intellectual, philological requirement; it is equally an ethical and aesthetic necessity of life. the original and pure, all that is not yet overgrown or has not passed through many hands, has such a potent charm. erasmus compared it to an apple which we ourselves pick off the tree. to recall the world to the ancient simplicity of science, to lead it back from the now turbid pools to those living and most pure fountain-heads, those most limpid sources of gospel doctrine--thus he saw the task of divinity. the metaphor of the limpid water is not without meaning here; it reveals the psychological quality of erasmus's fervent principle. 'how is it', he exclaims, 'that people give themselves so much trouble about the details of all sorts of remote philosophical systems and neglect to go to the sources of christianity itself?' 'although this wisdom, which is so excellent that once for all it put the wisdom of all the world to shame, may be drawn from these few books, as from a crystalline source, with far less trouble than is the wisdom of aristotle from so many thorny books and with much more fruit.... the equipment for that journey is simple and at everyone's immediate disposal. this philosophy is accessible to everybody. christ desires that his mysteries shall be spread as widely as possible. i should wish that all good wives read the gospel and paul's epistles; that they were translated into all languages; that out of these the husbandman sang while ploughing, the weaver at his loom; that with such stories the traveller should beguile his wayfaring.... this sort of philosophy is rather a matter of disposition than of syllogisms, rather of life than of disputation, rather of inspiration than of erudition, rather of transformation than of logic.... what is the philosophy of christ, which he himself calls _renascentia_, but the insaturation of nature created good?--moreover, though no one has taught us this so absolutely and effectively as christ, yet also in pagan books much may be found that is in accordance with it.' such was the view of life of this biblical humanist. as often as erasmus reverts to these matters, his voice sounds clearest. 'let no one', he says in the preface to the notes to the new testament, 'take up this work, as he takes up gellius's _noctes atticae_ or poliziano's miscellanies.... we are in the presence of holy things; here it is no question of eloquence, these matters are best recommended to the world by simplicity and purity; it would be ridiculous to display human erudition here, impious to pride oneself on human eloquence.' but erasmus never was so eloquent himself as just then. what here raises him above his usual level of force and fervour is the fact that he fights a battle, the battle for the right of biblical criticism. it revolts him that people should study holy scripture in the vulgate when they know that the texts show differences and are corrupt, although we have the greek text by which to go back to the original form and primary meaning. he is now reproached because he dares, as a mere grammarian, to assail the text of holy scripture on the score of futile mistakes or irregularities. 'details they are, yes, but because of these details we sometimes see even great divines stumble and rave.' philological trifling is necessary. 'why are we so precise as to our food, our clothes, our money-matters and why does this accuracy displease us in divine literature alone? he crawls along the ground, they say, he wearies himself out about words and syllables! why do we slight any word of him whom we venerate and worship under the name of the word? but, be it so! let whoever wishes imagine that i have not been able to achieve anything better, and out of sluggishness of mind and coldness of heart or lack of erudition have taken this lowest task upon myself; it is still a christian idea to think all work good that is done with pious zeal. we bring along the bricks, but to build the temple of god.' he does not want to be intractable. let the vulgate be kept for use in the liturgy, for sermons, in schools, but he who, at home, reads our edition, will understand his own the better in consequence. he, erasmus, is prepared to render account and acknowledge himself to have been wrong when convicted of error. erasmus perhaps never quite realized how much his philological-critical method must shake the foundations of the church. he was surprised at his adversaries 'who could not but believe that all their authority would perish at once when the sacred books might be read in a purified form, and when people tried to understand them in the original'. he did not feel what the unassailable authority of a sacred book meant. he rejoices because holy scripture is approached so much more closely, because all sorts of shadings are brought to light by considering not only what is said but also by whom, for whom, at what time, on what occasion, what precedes and what follows, in short, by the method of historical philological criticism. to him it seemed so especially pious when reading scripture and coming across a place which seemed contrary to the doctrine of christ or the divinity of his nature, to believe rather that one did not understand the phrase _or that the text might be corrupt_. unperceived he passed from emendation of the different versions to the correction of the contents. the epistles were not all written by the apostles to whom they are attributed. the apostles themselves made mistakes, at times. the foundation of his spiritual life was no longer a unity to erasmus. it was, on the one hand, a strong desire for an upright, simple, pure and homely belief, the earnest wish to be a good christian. but it was also the irresistible intellectual and aesthetic need of the good taste, the harmony, the clear and exact expression of the ancients, the dislike of what was cumbrous and involved. erasmus thought that good learning might render good service for the necessary purification of the faith and its forms. the measure of church hymns should be corrected. that christian expression and classicism were incompatible, he never believed. the man who in the sphere of sacred studies asked every author for his credentials remained unconscious of the fact that he acknowledged the authority of the ancients without any evidence. how naïvely he appeals to antiquity, again and again, to justify some bold feat! he is critical, they say? were not the ancients critical? he permits himself to insert digressions? so did the ancients, etc. erasmus is in profound sympathy with that revered antiquity by his fundamental conviction that it is the practice of life which matters. not he is the great philosopher who knows the tenets of the stoics or peripatetics by rote--but he who expresses the meaning of philosophy by his life and his morals, for that is its purpose. he is truly a divine who teaches, not by artful syllogisms, but by his disposition, by his face and his eyes, by his life itself, that wealth should be despised. to live up to that standard is what christ himself calls _renascentia_. erasmus uses the word in the christian sense only. but in that sense it is closely allied to the idea of the renaissance as a historical phenomenon. the worldly and pagan sides of the renaissance have nearly always been overrated. erasmus is, much more than aretino or castiglione, the representative of the spirit of his age, one over whose christian sentiment the sweet gale of antiquity had passed. and that very union of strong christian endeavour and the spirit of antiquity is the explanation of erasmus's wonderful success. * * * * * the mere intention and the contents of the mind do not influence the world, if the form of expression does not cooperate. in erasmus the quality of his talent is a very important factor. his perfect clearness and ease of expression, his liveliness, wit, imagination, gusto and humour have lent a charm to all he wrote which to his contemporaries was irresistible and captivates even us, as soon as we read him. in all that constitutes his talent, erasmus is perfectly and altogether a representative of the renaissance. there is, in the first place, his eternal _à propos_. what he writes is never vague, never dark--it is always plausible. everything seemingly flows of itself like a fountain. it always rings true as to tone, turn of phrase and accent. it has almost the light harmony of ariosto. and it is, like ariosto, never tragic, never truly heroic. it carries us away, indeed, but it is never itself truly enraptured. the more artistic aspects of erasmus's talent come out most clearly--though they are everywhere in evidence--in those two recreations after more serious labour, the _moriae encomium_ and the _colloquia_. but just those two have been of enormous importance for his influence upon his times. for while jerome reached tens of readers and the new testament hundreds, the _moria_ and _colloquies_ went out to thousands. and their importance is heightened in that erasmus has nowhere else expressed himself so spontaneously. in each of the colloquies, even in the first purely formulary ones, there is the sketch for a comedy, a novelette or a satire. there is hardly a sentence without its 'point', an expression without a vivid fancy. there are unrivalled niceties. the abbot of the _abbatis et eruditae colloquium_ is a molière character. it should be noticed how well erasmus always sustains his characters and his scenes, because he _sees_ them. in 'the woman in childbed' he never forgets for a moment that eutrapelus is an artist. at the end of 'the game of knucklebones', when the interlocutors, after having elucidated the whole nomenclature of the latin game of knuckle-bones, are going to play themselves, carolus says: 'but shut the door first, lest the cook should see us playing like two boys'. as holbein illustrated the _moria_, we should wish to possess the _colloquia_ with illustrations by brueghel, so closely allied is erasmus's witty clear vision of incidents to that of this great master. the procession of drunkards on palm sunday, the saving of the shipwrecked crew, the old men waiting for the travelling cart while the drivers are still drinking, all these are dutch genre pieces of the best sort. we like to speak of the realism of the renaissance. erasmus is certainly a realist in the sense of having an insatiable hunger for knowledge of the tangible world. he wants to know things and their names: the particulars of each thing, be it never so remote, such as those terms of games and rules of games of the romans. read carefully the description of the decorative painting on the garden-house of the _convivium religiosum_: it is nothing but an object lesson, a graphic representation of the forms of reality. in its joy over the material universe and the supple, pliant word, the renaissance revels in a profusion of imagery and expressions. the resounding enumerations of names and things, which rabelais always gives, are not unknown to erasmus, but he uses them for intellectual and useful purposes. in _de copia verborum ac rerum_ one feat of varied power of expression succeeds another--he gives fifty ways of saying: 'your letter has given me much pleasure,' or, 'i think that it is going to rain'. the aesthetic impulse is here that of a theme and variations: to display all the wealth and mutations of the logic of language. elsewhere, too, erasmus indulges this proclivity for accumulating the treasures of his genius; he and his contemporaries can never restrain themselves from giving all the instances instead of one: in _ratio verae theologiae_, in _de pronuntiatione_, in _lingua_, in _ecclesiastes_. the collections of _adagia_, _parabolae_, and _apophthegmata_ are altogether based on this eagerness of the renaissance (which, by the way, was an inheritance of the middle ages themselves) to luxuriate in the wealth of the tangible world, to revel in words and things. the senses are open for the nice observation of the curious. though erasmus does not know that need of proving the secrets of nature, which inspired a leonardo da vinci, a paracelsus, a vesalius, he is also, by his keen observation, a child of his time. for peculiarities in the habits and customs of nations he has an open eye. he notices the gait of swiss soldiers, how dandies sit, how picards pronounce french. he notices that in old pictures the sitters are always represented with half-closed eyes and tightly shut lips, as signs of modesty, and how some spaniards still honour this expression in life, while german art prefers lips pouting as for a kiss. his lively sense of anecdote, to which he gives the rein in all his writings, belongs here. and, in spite of all his realism, the world which erasmus sees and renders, is not altogether that of the sixteenth century. everything is veiled by latin. between the author's mind and reality intervenes his antique diction. at bottom the world of his mind is imaginary. it is a subdued and limited sixteenth-century reality which he reflects. together with its coarseness he lacks all that is violent and direct in his times. compared with the artists, with luther and calvin, with the statesmen, the navigators, the soldiers and the scientists, erasmus confronts the world as a recluse. it is only the influence of latin. in spite of all his receptiveness and sensitiveness, erasmus is never fully in contact with life. all through his work not a bird sings, not a wind rustles. but that reserve or fear of directness is not merely a negative quality. it also results from a consciousness of the indefiniteness of the ground of all things, from the awe of the ambiguity of all that is. if erasmus so often hovers over the borderline between earnestness and mockery, if he hardly ever gives an incisive conclusion, it is not only due to cautiousness, and fear to commit himself. everywhere he sees the shadings, the blending of the meaning of words. the terms of things are no longer to him, as to the man of the middle ages, as crystals mounted in gold, or as stars in the firmament. 'i like assertions so little that i would easily take sides with the sceptics whereever it is allowed by the inviolable authority of holy scripture and the decrees of the church.' 'what is exempt from error?' all subtle contentions of theological speculation arise from a dangerous curiosity and lead to impious audacity. what have all the great controversies about the trinity and the virgin mary profited? 'we have defined so much that without danger to our salvation might have remained unknown or undecided.... the essentials of our religion are peace and unanimity. these can hardly exist unless we make definitions about as few points as possible and leave many questions to individual judgement. numerous problems are now postponed till the oecumenical council. it would be much better to put off such questions till the time when the glass shall be removed and the darkness cleared away, and we shall see god face to face.' 'there are sanctuaries in the sacred studies which god has not willed that we should probe, and if we try to penetrate there, we grope in ever deeper darkness the farther we proceed, so that we recognize, in this manner, too, the inscrutable majesty of divine wisdom and the imbecility of human understanding.' chapter xiv erasmus's character erasmus's character: need of purity and cleanliness-- delicacy--dislike of contention, need of concord and friendship--aversion to disturbance of any kind--too much concerned about other men's opinions--need of self- justification--himself never in the wrong--correlation between inclinations and convictions--ideal image of himself--dissatisfaction with himself--self-centredness--a solitary at heart--fastidiousness--suspiciousness--morbid mistrust--unhappiness--restlessness--unsolved contradictions of his being--horror of lies--reserve and insinuation erasmus's powerful mind met with a great response in the heart of his contemporaries and had a lasting influence on the march of civilization. but one of the heroes of history he cannot be called. was not his failure to attain to still loftier heights partly due to the fact that his character was not on a level with the elevation of his mind? and yet that character, a very complicated one, though he took himself to be the simplest man in the world, was determined by the same factors which determined the structure of his mind. again and again we find in his inclinations the correlates of his convictions. at the root of his moral being we find--a key to the understanding of his character--that same profound need of purity which drove him to the sources of sacred science. purity in the material and the moral sense is what he desires for himself and others, always and in all things. few things revolt him so much as the practices of vintners who doctor wine and dealers who adulterate food. if he continually chastens his language and style, or exculpates himself from mistakes, it is the same impulse which prompts his passionate desire for cleanliness and brightness, of the home and of the body. he has a violent dislike of stuffy air and smelly substances. he regularly takes a roundabout way to avoid a malodorous lane; he loathes shambles and fishmongers' shops. fetors spread infection, he thinks. erasmus had, earlier than most people, antiseptic ideas about the danger of infection in the foul air of crowded inns, in the breath of confessants, in baptismal water. throw aside common cups, he pleaded; let everybody shave himself, let us be cleanly as to bed-sheets, let us not kiss each other by way of greeting. the fear of the horrible venereal disease, imported into europe during his lifetime, and of which erasmus watched the unbridled propagation with solicitude, increases his desire for purity. too little is being done to stop it, he thinks. he cautions against suspected inns; he wants to have measures taken against the marriages of syphilitic persons. in his undignified attitude towards hutten his physical and moral aversion to the man's evil plays an unmistakable part. erasmus is a delicate soul in all his fibres. his body forces him to be that. he is highly sensitive, among other things very susceptible to cold, 'the scholars' disorder', as he calls it. early in life already the painful malady of the stone begins to torment him, which he resisted so bravely when his work was at stake. he always speaks in a coddling tone about his little body, which cannot stand fasting, which must be kept fit by some exercise, namely riding, and for which he carefully tries to select a suitable climate. he is at times circumstantial in the description of his ailments.[ ] he has to be very careful in the matter of his sleep; if once he wakes up, he finds it difficult to go to sleep again, and because of that has often to lose the morning, the best time to work and which is so dear to him. he cannot stand cold, wind and fog, but still less overheated rooms. how he has execrated the german stoves, which are burned nearly all the year through and made germany almost unbearable to him! of his fear of illness we have spoken above. it is not only the plague which he flees--for fear of catching cold he gives up a journey from louvain to antwerp, where his friend peter gilles is in mourning. although he realizes quite well that 'often a great deal of the disease is in the imagination', yet his own imagination leaves him no peace. nevertheless, when he is seriously ill he does not fear death. his hygienics amount to temperance, cleanliness and fresh air, this last item in moderation: he takes the vicinity of the sea to be unwholesome and is afraid of draughts. his friend gilles, who is ill, he advises: 'do not take too much medicine, keep quiet and do not get angry'. though there is a 'praise of medicine' among his works, he does not think highly of physicians and satirizes them more than once in the _colloquies_. also in his outward appearance there were certain features betraying his delicacy. he was of medium height, well-made, of a fair complexion with blond hair and blue eyes, a cheerful face, a very articulate mode of speech, but a thin voice. in the moral sphere erasmus's delicacy is represented by his great need of friendship and concord, his dislike of contention. with him peace and harmony rank above all other considerations, and he confesses them to be the guiding principles of his actions. he would, if it might be, have all the world as a friend. 'wittingly i discharge no one from my friendship,' he says. and though he was sometimes capricious and exacting towards his friends, yet a truly great friend he was: witness the many who never forsook him, or whom he, after a temporary estrangement, always won back--more, peter gilles, fisher, ammonius, budaeus, and others too numerous to mention. 'he was most constant in keeping up friendships,' says beatus rhenanus, whose own attachment to erasmus is a proof of the strong affection he could inspire. at the root of this desire of friendship lies a great and sincere need of affection. remember the effusions of almost feminine affection towards servatius during his monastic period. but at the same time it is a sort of moral serenity that makes him so: an aversion to disturbance, to whatever is harsh and inharmonious. he calls it 'a certain occult natural sense' which makes him abhor strife. he cannot abide being at loggerheads with anyone. he always hoped and wanted, he says, to keep his pen unbloody, to attack no one, to provoke no one, even if he were attacked. but his enemies had not willed it, and in later years he became well accustomed to bitter polemics, with lefèvre d'Étaples, with lee, with egmondanus, with hutten, with luther, with beda, with the spaniards, and the italians. at first it is still noticeable how he suffers by it, how contention wounds him, so that he cannot bear the pain in silence. 'do let us be friends again,' he begs lefèvre, who does not reply. the time which he had to devote to his polemics he regards as lost. 'i feel myself getting more heavy every day,' he writes in , 'not so much on account of my age as because of the restless labour of my studies, nay more even by the weariness of disputes than by the work, which, in itself, is agreeable.' and how much strife was still in store for him then! if only erasmus had been less concerned about public opinion! but that seemed impossible: he had a fear of men, or, we may call it, a fervent need of justification. he would always see beforehand, and usually in exaggerated colours, the effect his word or deed would have upon men. of himself, it was certainly true as he once wrote: that the craving for fame has less sharp spurs than the fear of ignominy. erasmus is with rousseau among those who cannot bear the consciousness of guilt, out of a sort of mental cleanliness. not to be able to repay a benefit with interest, makes him ashamed and sad. he cannot abide 'dunning creditors, unperformed duty, neglect of the need of a friend'. if he cannot discharge the obligation, he explains it away. the dutch historian fruin has quite correctly observed: 'whatever erasmus did contrary to his duty and his rightly understood interests was the fault of circumstances or wrong advice; he is never to blame himself'. and what he has thus justified for himself becomes with him universal law: 'god relieves people of pernicious vows, if only they repent of them,' says the man who himself had broken a vow. there is in erasmus a dangerous fusion between inclination and conviction. the correlations between his idiosyncrasies and his precepts are undeniable. this has special reference to his point of view in the matter of fasting and abstinence from meat. he too frequently vents his own aversion to fish, or talks of his inability to postpone meals, not to make this connection clear to everybody. in the same way his personal experience in the monastery passes into his disapproval, on principle, of monastic life. the distortion of the image of his youth in his memory, to which we have referred, is based on that need of self-justification. it is all unconscious interpretation of the undeniable facts to suit the ideal which erasmus had made of himself and to which he honestly thinks he answers. the chief features of that self-conceived picture are a remarkable, simple sincerity and frankness, which make it impossible to him to dissemble; inexperience and carelessness in the ordinary concerns of life and a total lack of ambition. all this is true in the first instance: there is a superficial erasmus who answers to that image, but it is not the whole erasmus; there is a deeper one who is almost the opposite and whom he himself does not know because he will not know him. possibly because behind this there is a still deeper being, which is truly good. does he not ascribe weaknesses to himself? certainly. he is, in spite of his self-coddling, ever dissatisfied with himself and his work. _putidulus_, he calls himself, meaning the quality of never being content with himself. it is that peculiarity which makes him dissatisfied with any work of his directly after it has appeared, so that he always keeps revising and supplementing. 'pusillanimous' he calls himself in writing to colet. but again he cannot help giving himself credit for acknowledging that quality, nay, converting that quality itself into a virtue: it is modesty, the opposite of boasting and self-love. this bashfulness about himself is the reason that he does not love his own physiognomy, and is only persuaded with difficulty by his friends to sit for a portrait. his own appearance is not heroic or dignified enough for him, and he is not duped by an artist who flatters him: 'heigh-ho,' he exclaims, on seeing holbein's thumbnail sketch illustrating the _moria_: 'if erasmus still looked like that, he would take a wife at once'. it is that deep trait of dissatisfaction that suggests the inscription on his portraits: 'his writings will show you a better image'. erasmus's modesty and the contempt which he displays of the fame that fell to his lot are of a somewhat rhetorical character. but in this we should not so much see a personal trait of erasmus as a general form common to all humanists. on the other hand, this mood cannot be called altogether artificial. his books, which he calls his children, have not turned out well. he does not think they will live. he does not set store by his letters: he publishes them because his friends insist upon it. he writes his poems to try a new pen. he hopes that geniuses will soon appear who will eclipse him, so that erasmus will pass for a stammerer. what is fame? a pagan survival. he is fed up with it to repletion and would do nothing more gladly than cast it off. sometimes another note escapes him. if lee would help him in his endeavours, erasmus would make him immortal, he had told the former in their first conversation. and he threatens an unknown adversary, 'if you go on so impudently to assail my good name, then take care that my gentleness does not give way and i cause you to be ranked, after a thousand years, among the venomous sycophants, among the idle boasters, among the incompetent physicians'. the self-centred element in erasmus must needs increase accordingly as he in truth became a centre and objective point of ideas and culture. there really was a time when it must seem to him that the world hinged upon him, and that it awaited the redeeming word from him. what a widespread enthusiastic following he had, how many warm friends and venerators! there is something naïve in the way in which he thinks it requisite to treat all his friends, in an open letter, to a detailed, rather repellent account of an illness that attacked him on the way back from basle to louvain. _his_ part, _his_ position, _his_ name, this more and more becomes the aspect under which he sees world-events. years will come in which his whole enormous correspondence is little more than one protracted self-defence. yet this man who has so many friends is nevertheless solitary at heart. and in the depth of that heart he desires to be alone. he is of a most retiring disposition; he is _a recluse_. 'i have always wished to be alone, and there is nothing i hate so much as sworn partisans.' erasmus is one of those whom contact with others weakens. the less he has to address and to consider others, friends or enemies, the more truly he utters his deepest soul. intercourse with particular people always causes little scruples in him, intentional amenities, coquetry, reticences, reserves, spiteful hits, evasions. therefore it should not be thought that we get to know him to the core from his letters. natures like his, which all contact with men unsettles, give their best and deepest when they speak impersonally and to all. after the early effusions of sentimental affection he no longer opens his heart unreservedly to others. at bottom he feels separated from all and on the alert towards all. there is a great fear in him that others will touch his soul or disturb the image he has made of himself. the attitude of warding off reveals itself as fastidiousness and as bashfulness. budaeus hit the mark when he exclaimed jocularly: '_fastidiosule!_ you little fastidious person!' erasmus himself interprets the dominating trait of his being as maidenly coyness. the excessive sensitiveness to the stain attaching to his birth results from it. but his friend ammonius speaks of his _subrustica verecundia_, his somewhat rustic _gaucherie_. there is, indeed, often something of the small man about erasmus, who is hampered by greatness and therefore shuns the great, because, at bottom, they obsess him and he feels them to be inimical to his being. it seems a hard thing to say that genuine loyalty and fervent gratefulness were strange to erasmus. and yet such was his nature. in characters like his a kind of mental cramp keeps back the effusions of the heart. he subscribes to the adage: 'love so, as if you may hate one day, and hate so, as if you may love one day'. he cannot bear benefits. in his inmost soul he continually retires before everybody. he who considers himself the pattern of simple unsuspicion, is indeed in the highest degree suspicious towards all his friends. the dead ammonius, who had helped him so zealously in the most delicate concerns, is not secure from it. 'you are always unfairly distrustful towards me,' budaeus complains. 'what!' exclaims erasmus, 'you will find few people who are so little distrustful in friendship as myself.' when at the height of his fame the attention of the world was indeed fixed on all he spoke or did, there was some ground for a certain feeling on his part of being always watched and threatened. but when he was yet an unknown man of letters, in his parisian years, we continually find traces in him of a mistrust of the people about him that can only be regarded as a morbid feeling. during the last period of his life this feeling attaches especially to two enemies, eppendorf and aleander. eppendorf employs spies everywhere who watch erasmus's correspondence with his friends. aleander continually sets people to combat him, and lies in wait for him wherever he can. his interpretation of the intentions of his assailants has the ingenious self-centred element which passes the borderline of sanity. he sees the whole world full of calumny and ambuscades threatening his peace: nearly all those who once were his best friends have become his bitterest enemies; they wag their venomous tongues at banquets, in conversation, in the confessional, in sermons, in lectures, at court, in vehicles and ships. the minor enemies, like troublesome vermin, drive him to weariness of life, or to death by insomnia. he compares his tortures to the martyrdom of saint sebastian, pierced by arrows. but his is worse, for there is no end to it. for years he has daily been dying a thousand deaths and that alone; for his friends, if such there are, are deterred by envy. he mercilessly pillories his patrons in a row for their stinginess. now and again there suddenly comes to light an undercurrent of aversion and hatred which we did not suspect. where had more good things fallen to his lot than in england? which country had he always praised more? but suddenly a bitter and unfounded reproach escapes him. england is responsible for his having become faithless to his monastic vows, 'for no other reason do i hate britain more than for this, though it has always been pestilent to me'. he seldom allows himself to go so far. his expressions of hatred or spite are, as a rule, restricted to the feline. they are aimed at friends and enemies, budaeus, lypsius, as well as hutten and beda. occasionally we are struck by the expression of coarse pleasure at another's misfortune. but in all this, as regards malice, we should not measure erasmus by our ideas of delicacy and gentleness. compared with most of his contemporaries he remains moderate and refined. * * * * * erasmus never felt happy, was never content. this may perhaps surprise us for a moment, when we think of his cheerful, never-failing energy, of his gay jests and his humour. but upon reflection this unhappy feeling tallies very well with his character. it also proceeds from his general attitude of warding off. even when in high spirits he considers himself in all respects an unhappy man. 'the most miserable of all men, the thrice-wretched erasmus,' he calls himself in fine greek terms. his life 'is an iliad of calamities, a chain of misfortunes. how can anyone envy _me_?' to no one has fortune been so constantly hostile as to him. she has sworn his destruction, thus he sang in his youth in a poetical complaint addressed to gaguin: from earliest infancy the same sad and hard fate has been constantly pursuing him. pandora's whole box seems to have been poured out over him. this unhappy feeling takes the special form of his having been charged by unlucky stars with herculean labour, without profit or pleasure to himself:[ ] troubles and vexations without end. his life might have been so much easier if he had taken his chances. he should never have left italy; or he ought to have stayed in england. 'but an immoderate love of liberty caused me to wrestle long with faithless friends and inveterate poverty.' elsewhere he says more resignedly: 'but we are driven by fate'. that immoderate love of liberty had indeed been as fate to him. he had always been the great seeker of quiet and liberty who found liberty late and quiet never. by no means ever to bind himself, to incur no obligations which might become fetters--again that fear of the entanglements of life. thus he remained the great restless one. he was never truly satisfied with anything, least of all with what he produced himself. 'why, then, do you overwhelm us with so many books', someone at louvain objected, 'if you do not really approve of any of them?' and erasmus answers with horace's word: 'in the first place, because i cannot sleep'. a sleepless energy, it was that indeed. he cannot rest. still half seasick and occupied with his trunks, he is already thinking about an answer to dorp's letter, just received, censuring the _moria_. we should fully realize what it means that time after time erasmus, who, by nature, loved quiet and was fearful, and fond of comfort, cleanliness and good fare, undertakes troublesome and dangerous journeys, even voyages, which he detests, for the sake of his work and of that alone. he is not only restless, but also precipitate. helped by an incomparably retentive and capacious memory he writes at haphazard. he never becomes anacoluthic; his talent is too refined and sure for that; but he does repeat himself and is unnecessarily circumstantial. 'i rather pour out than write everything,' he says. he compares his publications to parturitions, nay, to abortions. he does not select his subjects, he tumbles into them, and having once taken up a subject he finishes without intermission. for years he has read only _tumultuarie_, up and down all literature; he no longer finds time really to refresh his mind by reading, and to work so as to please himself. on that account he envied budaeus. 'do not publish too hastily,' more warns him: 'you are watched to be caught in inexactitudes.' erasmus knows it: he will correct all later, he will ever have to revise and to polish everything. he hates the labour of revising and correcting, but he submits to it, and works passionately, 'in the treadmill of basle', and, he says, finishes the work of six years in eight months. in that recklessness and precipitation with which erasmus labours there is again one of the unsolved contradictions of his being. he _is_ precipitate and careless; he _wants_ to be careful and cautious; his mind drives him to be the first, his nature restrains him, but usually only after the word has been written and published. the result is a continual intermingling of explosion and reserve. the way in which erasmus always tries to shirk definite statements irritates us. how carefully he always tries to represent the _colloquies_, in which he had spontaneously revealed so much of his inner convictions, as mere trifling committed to paper to please his friends. they are only meant to teach correct latin! and if anything is said in them touching matters of faith, it is not i who say it, is it? as often as he censures classes or offices in the _adagia_, princes above all, he warns the readers not to regard his words as aimed at particular persons. erasmus was a master of reserve. he knew, even when he held definite views, how to avoid direct decisions, not only from caution, but also because he saw the eternal ambiguity of human issues. erasmus ascribes to himself an unusual horror of lies. on seeing a liar, he says, he was corporeally affected. as a boy he already violently disliked mendacious boys, such as the little braggart of whom he tells in the _colloquies_. that this reaction of aversion is genuine is not contradicted by the fact that we catch erasmus himself in untruths. inconsistencies, flattery, pieces of cunning, white lies, serious suppression of facts, simulated sentiments of respect or sorrow--they may all be pointed out in his letters. he once disavowed his deepest conviction for a gratuity from anne of borselen by flattering her bigotry. he requested his best friend batt to tell lies in his behalf. he most sedulously denied his authorship of the julius dialogue, for fear of the consequences, even to more, and always in such a way as to avoid saying outright, 'i did not write it'. those who know other humanists, and know how frequently and impudently they lied, will perhaps think more lightly of erasmus's sins. for the rest, even during his lifetime he did not escape punishment for his eternal reserve, his proficiency in semi-conclusions and veiled truths, insinuations and slanderous allusions. the accusation of perfidy was often cast in his teeth, sometimes in serious indignation. 'you are always engaged in bringing suspicion upon others,' edward lee exclaims. 'how dare you usurp the office of a general censor, and condemn what you have hardly ever tasted? how dare you despise all but yourself? falsely and insultingly do you expose your antagonist in the _colloquia_.' lee quotes the spiteful passage referring to himself, and then exclaims: 'now from these words the world may come to know its divine, its censor, its modest and sincere author, that erasmian diffidence, earnest, decency and honesty! erasmian modesty has long been proverbial. you are always using the words "false accusations". you say: if i was consciously guilty of the smallest of all his (lee's) false accusations, i should not dare to approach the lord's table!--o man, who are you, to judge another, a servant who stands or falls before his lord?' this was the first violent attack from the conservative side, in the beginning of , when the mighty struggle which luther's action had unchained kept the world in ever greater suspense. six months later followed the first serious reproaches on the part of radical reformers. ulrich von hutten, the impetuous, somewhat foggy-headed knight, who wanted to see luther's cause triumph as the national cause of germany, turns to erasmus, whom, at one time, he had enthusiastically acclaimed as the man of the new weal, with the urgent appeal not to forsake the cause of the reformation or to compromise it. 'you have shown yourself fearful in the affair of reuchlin; now in that of luther you do your utmost to convince his adversaries that you are altogether averse from it, though we know better. do not disown us. you know how triumphantly certain letters of yours are circulated, in which, to protect yourself from suspicion, you rather meanly fasten it on others ... if you are now afraid to incur a little hostility for _my_ sake, concede me at least that you will not allow yourself, out of fear for another, to be tempted to renounce me; rather be silent about me.' those were bitter reproaches. in the man who had to swallow them there was a puny erasmus who deserved those reproaches, who took offence at them, but did not take them to heart, who continued to act with prudent reserve till hutten's friendship was turned to hatred. in him was also a great erasmus who knew how, under the passion and infatuation with which the parties combated each other, the truth he sought, and the love he hoped would subdue the world, were obscured; who knew the god whom he professed too high to take sides. let us try ever to see of that great erasmus as much as the petty one permits. footnotes: [ ] cf. the letter to beatus rhenanus, pp. - . [ ] ad. lb. ii, b, c. a. on the book which erasmus holds in his hand in holbein's portrait at longford castle, we read in greek: the labours of hercules. chapter xv at louvain - erasmus at louvain, --he expects the renovation of the church as the fruit of good learning--controversy with lefèvre d'Étaples--second journey to basle, --he revises the edition of the new testament--controversies with latomus, briard and lee--erasmus regards the opposition of conservative theology merely as a conspiracy against good learning when erasmus established himself at louvain in the summer of he had a vague presentiment that great changes were at hand. 'i fear', he writes in september, 'that a great subversion of affairs is being brought about here, if god's favour and the piety and wisdom of princes do not concern themselves about human matters.' but the forms which that great change would assume he did not in the least realize. he regarded his removal as merely temporary. it was only to last 'till we shall have seen which place of residence is best fit for old age, which is already knocking'. there is something pathetic in the man who desires nothing but quiet and liberty, and who through his own restlessness, and his inability not to concern himself about other people, never found a really fixed abode or true independence. erasmus is one of those people who always seem to say: tomorrow, tomorrow! i must first deal with this, and then ... as soon as he shall be ready with the new edition of the new testament and shall have extricated himself from troublesome and disagreeable theological controversies, in which he finds himself entangled against his wish, he will sleep, hide himself, 'sing for himself and the muses'. but that time never came. where to live when he shall be free? spain, to which cardinal ximenes called him, did not appeal to him. from germany, he says, the stoves and the insecurity deter him. in england the servitude which was required of him there revolted him. but in the netherlands themselves, he did not feel at his ease, either: 'here i am barked at a great deal, and there is no remuneration; though i desired it ever so much, i could not bear to stay there long'. yet he remained for four years. erasmus had good friends in the university of louvain. at first he put up with his old host johannes paludanus, rhetor of the university, whose house he exchanged that summer for quarters in the college of the lily. martin dorp, a dutchman like himself, had not been estranged from him by their polemics about the _moria_; his good will was of great importance to erasmus, because of the important place dorp occupied in the theological faculty. and lastly, though his old patron, adrian of utrecht, afterwards pope, had by that time been called away from louvain to higher dignities, his influence had not diminished in consequence, but rather increased; for just about that time he had been made a cardinal. erasmus was received with great complaisance by the louvain divines. their leader, the vice-chancellor of the university, jean briard of ath, repeatedly expressed his approval of the edition of the new testament, to erasmus's great satisfaction. soon erasmus found himself a member of the theological faculty. yet he did not feel at his ease among the louvain theologians. the atmosphere was a great deal less congenial to him than that of the world of the english scholars. here he felt a spirit which he did not understand and distrusted in consequence. in the years in which the reformation began, erasmus was the victim of a great misunderstanding, the result of the fact that his delicate, aesthetic, hovering spirit understood neither the profoundest depths of the faith nor the hard necessities of human society. he was neither mystic nor realist. luther was both. to erasmus the great problem of church and state and society, seemed simple. nothing was required but restoration and purification by a return to the original, unspoilt sources of christianity. a number of accretions to the faith, rather ridiculous than revolting, had to be cleared away. all should be reduced to the nucleus of faith, christ and the gospel. forms, ceremonies, speculations should make room for the practice of true piety. the gospel was easily intelligible to everybody and within everybody's reach. and the means to reach all this was good learning, _bonae literae_. had he not himself, by his editions of the new testament and of jerome, and even earlier by the now famous _enchiridion_, done most of what had to be done? 'i hope that what now pleases the upright, will soon please all.' as early as the beginning of erasmus had written to wolfgang fabricius capito, in the tone of one who has accomplished the great task. 'well then, take you the torch from us. the work will henceforth be a great deal easier and cause far less hatred and envy. _we_ have lived through the first shock.' budaeus writes to tunstall in may : 'was anyone born under such inauspicious graces that the dull and obscure discipline (scholasticism) does not revolt him, since sacred literature, too, cleansed by erasmus's diligence, has regained its ancient purity and brightness? but it is still much greater that he should have effected by the same labour the emergence of sacred truth itself out of that cimmerian darkness, even though divinity is not yet quite free from the dirt of the sophist school. if that should occur one day, it will be owing to the beginnings made in our times.' the philologist budaeus believed even more firmly than erasmus that faith was a matter of erudition. it could not but vex erasmus that not everyone accepted the cleansed truth at once. how could people continue to oppose themselves to what, to him, seemed as clear as daylight and so simple? he, who so sincerely would have liked to live in peace with all the world, found himself involved in a series of polemics. to let the opposition of opponents pass unnoticed was forbidden not only by his character, for ever striving to justify himself in the eyes of the world, but also by the custom of his time, so eager for dispute. there were, first of all, his polemics with jacques lefèvre d'Étaples, or in latinized form, faber stapulensis, the parisian theologian, who as a preparer of the reformation may, more than anyone else, be ranked with erasmus. at the moment when erasmus got into the travelling cart which was to take him to louvain, a friend drew his attention to a passage in the new edition of faber's commentary on st. paul's epistles, in which he controverted erasmus's note on the second epistle to the hebrews, verse . erasmus at once bought faber's book, and soon published an _apologia_. it concerned christ's relation to god and the angels, but the dogmatic point at issue hinged, after all, on a philological interpretation of erasmus. not yet accustomed to much direct wrangling, erasmus was violently agitated by the matter, the more as he esteemed faber highly and considered him a congenial spirit. 'what on earth has occurred to the man? have others set him on against me? all theologians agree that i am right,' he asserts. it makes him nervous that faber does not reply again at once. badius has told peter gilles that faber is sorry about it. erasmus in a dignified letter appeals to their friendship; he will suffer himself to be taught and censured. then again he growls: let him be careful. and he thinks that his controversy with faber keeps the world in suspense: there is not a meal at which the guests do not side with one or the other of them. but finally the combat abated and the friendship was preserved. towards easter , erasmus contemplated a new journey to basle, there to pass through the press, during a few months of hard labour, the corrected edition of the new testament. he did not fail to request the chiefs of conservative divinity at louvain beforehand to state their objections to his work. briard of ath declared he had found nothing offensive in it, after he had first been told all sorts of bad things about it. 'then the new edition will please you much better,' erasmus had said. his friend dorp and james latomus, also one of the chief divines, had expressed themselves in the same sense, and the carmelite nicholas of egmond had said that he had never read erasmus's work. only a young englishman, edward lee, who was studying greek at louvain, had summarized a number of criticisms into ten conclusions. erasmus had got rid of the matter by writing to lee that he had not been able to get hold of his conclusions and therefore could not make use of them. but his youthful critic had not put up with being slighted so, and worked out his objections in a more circumstantial treatise. [illustration: xvii. view of basle, ] thus erasmus set out for basle once more in may . he had been obliged to ask all his english friends (of whom ammonius had been taken from him by death in ) for support to defray the expenses of the journey; he kept holding out to them the prospect that, after his work was finished, he would return to england. in a letter to martin lypsius, as he was going up the rhine, he answered lee's criticism, which had irritated him extremely. in revising his edition he not only took it but little into account, but ventured, moreover, this time to print his own translation of the new testament of without any alterations. at the same time he obtained for the new edition a letter of approval from the pope, a redoubtable weapon against his cavillers. at basle erasmus worked again like a horse in a treadmill. but he was really in his element. even before the second edition of the new testament, the _enchiridion_ and the _institutio principis christiani_ were reprinted by froben. on his return journey, erasmus, whose work had been hampered all through the summer by indisposition, and who had, on that account, been unable to finish it, fell seriously ill. he reached louvain with difficulty ( september ). it might be the pestilence, and erasmus, ever much afraid of contagion himself, now took all precautions to safeguard his friends against it. he avoided his quarters in the college of the lily, and found shelter with his most trusted friend, dirck maertensz, the printer. but in spite of rumours of the plague and his warnings, first dorp and afterwards also ath came, at once, to visit him. evidently the louvain professors did not mean so badly by him, after all. [illustration: xviii. title-page of the new testament printed by froben in ] but the differences between erasmus and the louvain faculty were deeply rooted. lee, hurt by the little attention paid by erasmus to his objections, prepared a new critique, but kept it from erasmus, for the present, which irritated the latter and made him nervous. in the meantime a new opponent arose. directly after his return to louvain, erasmus had taken much trouble to promote the establishment of the _collegium trilingue_, projected and endowed by jerome busleiden, in his testament, to be founded in the university. the three biblical languages, hebrew, greek and latin, were to be taught there. now when james latomus, a member of the theological faculty and a man whom he esteemed, in a dialogue about the study of those three languages and of theology, doubted the utility of the former, erasmus judged himself concerned, and answered latomus in an _apologia_. about the same time (spring ) he got into trouble with the vice-chancellor himself. erasmus thought that ath had publicly censured him with regard to his 'praise of marriage', which had recently appeared. though ath withdrew at once, erasmus could not abstain from writing an _apologia_, however moderate. meanwhile the smouldering quarrel with lee assumed ever more hateful forms. in vain did erasmus's english friends attempt to restrain their young, ambitious compatriot. erasmus on his part irritated him furtively. he reveals in this whole dispute a lack of self-control and dignity which shows his weakest side. usually so anxious as to decorum he now lapses into invectives: the british adder, satan, even the old taunt ascribing a tail to englishmen has to serve once more. the points at issue disappear altogether behind the bitter mutual reproaches. in his unrestrained anger, erasmus avails himself of the most unworthy weapons. he eggs his german friends on to write against lee and to ridicule him in all his folly and brag, and then he assures all his english friends: 'all germany is literally furious with lee; i have the greatest trouble in keeping them back'. alack! germany had other causes of disturbance: it is and the three great polemics of luther were setting the world on fire. though one may excuse the violence and the petty spitefulness of erasmus in this matter, as resulting from an over-sensitive heart falling somewhat short in really manly qualities, yet it is difficult to deny that he failed completely to understand both the arguments of his adversaries and the great movements of his time. it was very easy for erasmus to mock the narrow-mindedness of conservative divines who thought that there would be an end to faith in holy scripture as soon as the emendation of the text was attempted. '"they correct the holy gospel, nay, the pater noster itself!" the preacher exclaims indignantly in the sermon before his surprised congregation. as if i cavilled at matthew and luke, and not at those who, out of ignorance and carelessness, have corrupted them. what do people wish? that the church should possess holy scripture as correct as possible, or not?' this reasoning seemed to erasmus, with his passionate need of purity, a conclusive refutation. but instinct did not deceive his adversaries, when it told them that doctrine itself was at stake if the linguistic judgement of a single individual might decide as to the correct version of a text. and erasmus wished to avoid the inferences which assailed doctrine. he was not aware of the fact that his conceptions of the church, the sacraments and the dogmas were no longer purely catholic, because they had become subordinated to his philological insight. he could not be aware of it because, in spite of all his natural piety and his fervent ethical sentiments, he lacked the mystic insight which is the foundation of every creed. it was this personal lack in erasmus which made him unable to understand the real grounds of the resistance of catholic orthodoxy. how was it possible that so many, and among them men of high consideration, refused to accept what to him seemed so clear and irrefutable! he interpreted the fact in a highly personal way. he, the man who would so gladly have lived in peace with all the world, who so yearned for sympathy and recognition, and bore enmity with difficulty, saw the ranks of haters and opponents increase about him. he did not understand how they feared his mocking acrimony, how many wore the scar of a wound that the _moria_ had made. that real and supposed hatred troubled erasmus. he sees his enemies as a sect. it is especially the dominicans and the carmelites who are ill-affected towards the new scientific theology. just then a new adversary had arisen at louvain in the person of his compatriot nicholas of egmond, prior of the carmelites, henceforth an object of particular abhorrence to him. it is remarkable that at louvain erasmus found his fiercest opponents in some compatriots, in the narrower sense of the word: vincent dirks of haarlem, william of vianen, ruurd tapper. the persecution increases: the venom of slander spreads more and more every day and becomes more deadly; the greatest untruths are impudently preached about him; he calls in the help of ath, the vice-chancellor, against them. but it is no use; the hidden enemies laugh; let him write for the erudite, who are few; we shall bark to stir up the people. after he writes again and again: 'i am stoned every day'. but erasmus, however much he might see himself, not without reason, at the centre, could, in and , no longer be blind to the fact that the great struggle did not concern him alone. on all sides the battle was being fought. what is it, that great commotion about matters of spirit and of faith? the answer which erasmus gave himself was this: it is a great and wilful conspiracy on the part of the conservatives to suffocate good learning and make the old ignorance triumph. this idea recurs innumerable times in his letters after the middle of . 'i know quite certainly', he writes on march to one of his german friends, 'that the barbarians on all sides have conspired to leave no stone unturned till they have suppressed _bonae literae_.' 'here we are still fighting with the protectors of the old ignorance'; cannot wolsey persuade the pope to stop it here? all that appertains to ancient and cultured literature is called 'poetry' by those narrow-minded fellows. by that word they indicate everything that savours of a more elegant doctrine, that is to say all that they have not learned themselves. all the tumult, the whole tragedy--under these terms he usually refers to the great theological struggle--originates in the hatred of _bonae literae_. 'this is the source and hot-bed of all this tragedy; incurable hatred of linguistic study and the _bonae literae_.' 'luther provokes those enemies, whom it is impossible to conquer, though their cause is a bad one. and meanwhile envy harasses the _bonae literae_, which are attacked at his (luther's) instigation by these gadflies. they are already nearly insufferable, when things do not go well with them; but who can stand them when they triumph? either i am blind, or they aim at something else than luther. they are preparing to conquer the phalanx of the muses.' this was written by erasmus to a member of the university of leipzig in december . this one-sided and academic conception of the great events, a conception which arose in the study of a recluse bending over his books, did more than anything else to prevent erasmus from understanding the true nature and purport of the reformation. chapter xvi first years of the reformation beginning of the relations between erasmus and luther-- archbishop albert of mayence, --progress of the reformation--luther tries to bring about a _rapprochement_ with erasmus, march --erasmus keeps aloof; fancies he may yet act as a conciliator--his attitude becomes ambiguous--he denies ever more emphatically all relations with luther and resolves to remain a spectator--he is pressed by either camp to take sides--aleander in the netherlands--the diet of worms, --erasmus leaves louvain to safeguard his freedom, october about the close of , erasmus received a letter from the librarian and secretary of frederick, elector of saxony, george spalatinus, written in the respectful and reverential tone in which the great man was now approached. 'we all esteem you here most highly; the elector has all your books in his library and intends to buy everything you may publish in future.' but the object of spalatinus's letter was the execution of a friend's commission. an augustinian ecclesiastic, a great admirer of erasmus, had requested him to direct his attention to the fact that in his interpretation of st. paul, especially in that of the epistle to the romans, erasmus had failed to conceive the idea of _justitia_ correctly, had paid too little attention to original sin: he might profit by reading augustine. the nameless austin friar was luther, then still unknown outside the circle of the wittenberg university, in which he was a professor, and the criticism regarded the cardinal point of his hardly acquired conviction: justification by faith. erasmus paid little attention to this letter. he received so many of that sort, containing still more praise and no criticism. if he answered it, the reply did not reach spalatinus, and later erasmus completely forgot the whole letter. nine months afterwards, in september , when erasmus had been at louvain for a short time, he received an honourable invitation, written by the first prelate of the empire, the young archbishop of mayence, albert of brandenburg. the archbishop would be pleased to see him on an occasion: he greatly admired his work (he knew it so little as to speak of erasmus's emendation of the old testament, instead of the new) and hoped that he would one day write some lives of saints in elegant style. the young hohenzoller, advocate of the new light of classical studies, whose attention had probably been drawn to erasmus by hutten and capito, who sojourned at his court, had recently become engaged in one of the boldest political and financial transactions of his time. his elevation to the see of mayence, at the age of twenty-four, had necessitated a papal dispensation, as he also wished to keep the archbishopric of magdeburg and the see of halberstadt. this accumulation of ecclesiastical offices had to be made subservient to the brandenburg policy which opposed the rival house of saxony. the pope granted the dispensation in return for a great sum of money, but to facilitate its payment he accorded to the archbishop a liberal indulgence for the whole archbishopric of mayence, magdeburg and the brandenburg territories. albert, to whom half the proceeds were tacitly left, raised a loan with the house of fugger, and this charged itself with the indulgence traffic. when in december , erasmus answered the archbishop, luther's propositions against indulgences, provoked by the archbishop of mayence's instructions regarding their colportage, had already been posted up ( october ), and were circulated throughout germany, rousing the whole church. they were levelled at the same abuses which erasmus combated, the mechanical, atomistical, and juridical conception of religion. but how different was their practical effect, as compared with erasmus's pacific endeavour to purify the church by lenient means! 'lives of saints?' erasmus asked replying to the archbishop. 'i have tried in my poor way to add a little light to the prince of saints himself. for the rest, your endeavour, in addition to so many difficult matters of government, and at such an early age, to get the lives of the saints purged of old women's tales and disgusting style, is extremely laudable. for nothing should be suffered in the church that is not perfectly pure or refined,' and he concludes with a magnificent eulogy of the excellent prelate. during the greater part of , erasmus was too much occupied by his own affairs--the journey to basle and his red-hot labours there, and afterwards his serious illness--to concern himself much with luther's business. in march he sends luther's theses to more, without comment, and, in passing, complains to colet about the impudence with which rome disseminates indulgences. luther, now declared a heretic and summoned to appear at augsburg, stands before the legate cajetanus and refuses to recant. seething enthusiasm surrounds him. just about that time erasmus writes to one of luther's partisans, john lang, in very favourable terms about his work. the theses have pleased everybody. 'i see that the monarchy of the pope at rome, as it is now, is a pestilence to christendom, but i do not know if it is expedient to touch that sore openly. that would be a matter for princes, but i fear that these will act in concert with the pope to secure part of the spoils. i do not understand what possessed eck to take up arms against luther.' the letter did not find its way into any of the collections. the year brought the struggle attending the election of an emperor, after old maximilian had died in january, and the attempt of the curia to regain ground with lenity. germany was expecting the long-projected disputation between johannes eck and andreas karlstadt which, in truth, would concern luther. how could erasmus, who himself was involved that year in so many polemics, have foreseen that the leipzig disputation, which was to lead luther to the consequence of rejecting the highest ecclesiastical authority, would remain of lasting importance in the history of the world, whereas his quarrel with lee would be forgotten? on march luther addressed himself personally to erasmus for the first time. 'i speak with you so often, and you with me, erasmus, our ornament and our hope; and we do not know each other as yet.' he rejoices to find that erasmus displeases many, for this he regards as a sign that god has blessed him. now that his, luther's, name begins to get known too, a longer silence between them might be wrongly interpreted. 'therefore, my erasmus, amiable man, if you think fit, acknowledge also this little brother in christ, who really admires you and feels friendly disposed towards you, and for the rest would deserve no better, because of his ignorance, than to lie, unknown, buried in a corner.' there was a very definite purpose in this somewhat rustically cunning and half ironical letter. luther wanted, if possible, to make erasmus show his colours, to win him, the powerful authority, touchstone of science and culture, for the cause which he advocated. in his heart luther had long been aware of the deep gulf separating him from erasmus. as early as march , six months before his public appearance, he wrote about erasmus to john lang: 'human matters weigh heavier with him than divine,' an opinion that so many have pronounced about erasmus--obvious, and yet unfair. the attempt, on the part of luther, to effect a _rapprochement_ was a reason for erasmus to retire at once. now began that extremely ambiguous policy of erasmus to preserve peace by his authority as a light of the world and to steer a middle course without committing himself. in that attitude the great and the petty side of his personality are inextricably intertwined. the error because of which most historians have seen erasmus's attitude towards the reformation either in far too unfavourable a light or--as for instance the german historian kalkoff--much too heroic and far-seeing, is that they erroneously regard him as psychologically homogeneous. just that he is not. his double-sidedness roots in the depths of his being. many of his utterances during the struggle proceed directly from his fear and lack of character, also from his inveterate dislike of siding with a person or a cause; but behind that is always his deep and fervent conviction that neither of the conflicting opinions can completely express the truth, that human hatred and purblindness infatuate men's minds. and with that conviction is allied the noble illusion that it might yet be possible to preserve the peace by moderation, insight, and kindliness. in april erasmus addressed himself by letter to the elector frederick of saxony, luther's patron. he begins by alluding to his dedication of suetonius two years before; but his real purpose is to say something about luther. luther's writings, he says, have given the louvain obscurants plenty of reason to inveigh against the _bonae literae_, to decry all scholars. he himself does not know luther and has glanced through his writings only cursorily as yet, but everyone praises his life. how little in accordance with theological gentleness it is to condemn him offhand, and that before the indiscreet vulgar! for has he not proposed a dispute, and submitted himself to everybody's judgement? no one has, so far, admonished, taught, convinced him. every error is not at once heresy. the best of christianity is a life worthy of christ. where we find that, we should not rashly suspect people of heresy. why do we so uncharitably persecute the lapses of others, though none of us is free from error? why do we rather want to conquer than cure, suppress than instruct? but he concludes with a word that could not but please luther's friends, who so hoped for his support. 'may the duke prevent an innocent man from being surrendered under the cloak of piety to the impiety of a few. this is also the wish of pope leo, who has nothing more at heart than that innocence be safe.' at this same time erasmus does his best to keep froben back from publishing luther's writings, 'that they may not fan the hatred of the _bonae literae_ still more'. and he keeps repeating: i do not know luther, i have not read his writings. he makes this declaration to luther himself, in his reply to the latter's epistle of march. this letter of erasmus, dated may , should be regarded as a newspaper leader[ ], to acquaint the public with his attitude towards the luther question. luther does not know the tragedies which his writings have caused at louvain. people here think that erasmus has helped him in composing them and call him the standard bearer of the party! that seemed to them a fitting pretext to suppress the _bonae literae_. 'i have declared that you are perfectly unknown to me, that i have not yet read your books and therefore neither approve nor disapprove anything.' 'i reserve myself, so far as i may, to be of use to the reviving studies. discreet moderation seems likely to bring better progress than impetuosity. it was by this that christ subjugated the world.' on the same day he writes to john lang, one of luther's friends and followers, a short note, not meant for publication: 'i hope that the endeavours of yourself and your party will be successful. here the papists rave violently.... all the best minds are rejoiced at luther's boldness: i do not doubt he will be careful that things do not end in a quarrel of parties!... we shall never triumph over feigned christians unless we first abolish the tyranny of the roman see, and of its satellites, the dominicans, the franciscans and the carmelites. but no one could attempt that without a serious tumult.' as the gulf widens, erasmus's protestations that he has nothing to do with luther become much more frequent. relations at louvain grow ever more disagreeable and the general sentiment about him ever more unkind. in august he turns to the pope himself for protection against his opponents. he still fails to see how wide the breach is. he still takes it all to be quarrels of scholars. king henry of england and king francis of france in their own countries have imposed silence upon the quarrellers and slanderers; if only the pope would do the same! in october he was once more reconciled with the louvain faculty. it was just at this time that colet died in london, the man who had, better perhaps than anyone else, understood erasmus's standpoint. kindred spirits in germany still looked up to erasmus as the great man who was on the alert to interpose at the right moment and who had made moderation the watchword, until the time should come to give his friends the signal. but in the increasing noise of the battle his voice already sounded less powerfully than before. a letter to cardinal albert of mayence, october , of about the same content as that of frederick of saxony written in the preceding spring, was at once circulated by luther's friends; and by the advocates of conservatism, in spite of the usual protestation, 'i do not know luther', it was made to serve against erasmus. it became more and more clear that the mediating and conciliatory position which erasmus wished to take up would soon be altogether untenable. the inquisitor jacob hoogstraten had come from cologne, where he was a member of the university, to louvain, to work against luther there, as he had worked against reuchlin. on november the louvain faculty, following the example of that of cologne, proceeded to take the decisive step: the solemn condemnation of a number of luther's opinions. in future no place could be less suitable to erasmus than louvain, the citadel of action against reformers. it is surprising that he remained there another two years. the expectation that he would be able to speak the conciliating word was paling. for the rest he failed to see the true proportions. during the first months of his attention was almost entirely taken up by his own polemics with lee, a paltry incident in the great revolution. the desire to keep aloof got more and more the upper hand of him. in june he writes to melanchthon: 'i see that matters begin to look like sedition. it is perhaps necessary that scandals occur, but i should prefer not to be the author.' he has, he thinks, by his influence with wolsey, prevented the burning of luther's writings in england, which had been ordered. but he was mistaken. the burning had taken place in london, as early as may. the best proof that erasmus had practically given up his hope to play a conciliatory part may be found in what follows. in the summer of the famous meeting between the three monarchs, henry viii, francis i and charles v, took place at calais. erasmus was to go there in the train of his prince. how would such a congress of princes--where in peaceful conclave the interests of france, england, spain, the german empire, and a considerable part of italy, were represented together--have affected erasmus's imagination, if his ideal had remained unshaken! but there are no traces of this. erasmus was at calais in july , had some conversation with henry viii there, and greeted more, but it does not appear that he attached any other importance to the journey than that of an opportunity, for the last time, to greet his english friends. it was awkward for erasmus that just at this time, when the cause of faith took so much harsher forms, his duties as counsellor to the youthful charles, now back from spain to be crowned as emperor, circumscribed his liberty more than before. in the summer of appeared, based on the incriminating material furnished by the louvain faculty, the papal bull declaring luther to be a heretic, and, unless he should speedily recant, excommunicating him. 'i fear the worst for the unfortunate luther,' erasmus writes, september , 'so does conspiracy rage everywhere, so are princes incensed with him on all sides, and, most of all, pope leo. would luther had followed my advice and abstained from those hostile and seditious actions!... they will not rest until they have quite subverted the study of languages and the good learning.... out of the hatred against these and the stupidity of monks did this tragedy first arise.... i do not meddle with it. for the rest, a bishopric is waiting for me if i choose to write against luther.' indeed, erasmus had become, by virtue of his enormous celebrity, as circumstances would have it, more and more a valuable asset in the great policy of emperor and pope. people wanted to use his name and make him choose sides. and that he would not do for any consideration. he wrote evasively to the pope about his relations with luther without altogether disavowing him. how zealously he defends himself from the suspicion of being on luther's side as noisy monks make out in their sermons, who summarily link the two in their scoffing disparagement. but by the other side also he is pressed to choose sides and to speak out. towards the end of october the coronation of the emperor took place at aix-la-chapelle. erasmus was perhaps present; in any case he accompanied the emperor to cologne. there, on november, he had an interview about luther with the elector frederick of saxony. he was persuaded to write down the result of that discussion in the form of twenty-two _axiomata concerning luther's cause_. against his intention they were printed at once. erasmus's hesitation in those days between the repudiation and the approbation of luther is not discreditable to him. it is the tragic defect running through his whole personality: his refusal or inability ever to draw ultimate conclusions. had he only been a calculating and selfish nature, afraid of losing his life, he would long since have altogether forsaken luther's cause. it is his misfortune affecting his fame, that he continually shows his weaknesses, whereas what is great in him lies deep. at cologne erasmus also met the man with whom, as a promising young humanist, fourteen years younger than himself, he had, for some months, shared a room in the house of aldus's father-in-law, at venice: hieronymus aleander, now sent to the emperor as a papal nuncio, to persuade him to conform his imperial policy to that of the pope, in the matter of the great ecclesiastical question, and give effect to the papal excommunication by the imperial ban. it must have been somewhat painful for erasmus that his friend had so far surpassed him in power and position, and was now called to bring by diplomatic means the solution which he himself would have liked to see achieved by ideal harmony, good will and toleration. he had never trusted aleander, and was more than ever on his guard against him. as a humanist, in spite of brilliant gifts, aleander was by far erasmus's inferior, and had never, like him, risen from literature to serious theological studies; he had simply prospered in the service of church magnates (whom erasmus had given up early). this man was now invested with the highest mediating powers. to what degree of exasperation erasmus's most violent antagonists at louvain had now been reduced is seen from the witty and slightly malicious account he gives thomas more of his meeting with egmondanus before the rector of the university, who wanted to reconcile them. still things did not look so black as ulrich von hutten thought, when he wrote to erasmus: 'do you think that you are still safe, now that luther's books are burned? fly, and save yourself for us!' ever more emphatic do erasmus's protestations become that he has nothing to do with luther. long ago he had already requested him not to mention his name, and luther promised it: 'very well, then, i shall not again refer to you, neither will other good friends, since it troubles you'. ever louder, too, are erasmus's complaints about the raving of the monks at him, and his demands that the mendicant orders be deprived of the right to preach. in april comes the moment in the world's history to which christendom has been looking forward: luther at the diet of worms, holding fast to his opinions, confronted by the highest authority in the empire. so great is the rejoicing in germany that for a moment it may seem that the emperor's power is in danger rather than luther and his adherents. 'if i had been present', writes erasmus, 'i should have endeavoured that this tragedy would have been so tempered by moderate arguments that it could not afterwards break out again to the still greater detriment of the world.' the imperial sentence was pronounced: within the empire (as in the burgundian netherlands before that time) luther's books were to be burned, his adherents arrested and their goods confiscated, and luther was to be given up to the authorities. erasmus hopes that now relief will follow. 'the luther tragedy is at an end with us here; would it had never appeared on the stage.' in these days albrecht dürer, on hearing the false news of luther's death, wrote in the diary of his journey that passionate exclamation: 'o erasmus of rotterdam, where will you be? hear, you knight of christ, ride forth beside the lord christ, protect the truth, obtain the martyr's crown. for you are but an old manikin. i have heard you say that you have allowed yourself two more years, in which you are still fit to do some work; spend them well, in behalf of the gospel and the true christian faith.... o erasmus, be on this side, that god may be proud of you.' it expresses confidence in erasmus's power, but at bottom is the expectation that he will not do all this. dürer had rightly understood erasmus. the struggle abated nowise, least of all at louvain. latomus, the most dignified and able of louvain divines, had now become one of the most serious opponents of luther and, in so doing, touched erasmus, too, indirectly. to nicholas of egmond, the carmelite, another of erasmus's compatriots had been added as a violent antagonist, vincent dirks of haarlem, a dominican. erasmus addresses himself to the faculty, to defend himself against the new attacks, and to explain why he has never written against luther. he will read him, he will soon take up something to quiet the tumult. he succeeds in getting aleander, who arrived at louvain in june, to prohibit preaching against him. the pope still hopes that aleander will succeed in bringing back erasmus, with whom he is again on friendly terms, to the right track. but erasmus began to consider the only exit which was now left to him: to leave louvain and the netherlands to regain his menaced independence. the occasion to depart had long ago presented itself: the third edition of his new testament called him to basle once more. it would not be a permanent departure, and he purposed to return to louvain. on october (his birthday) he left the town where he had spent four difficult years. his chambers in the college of the lily were reserved for him and he left his books behind. on november he reached basle. soon the rumour spread that out of fear of aleander he had saved himself by flight. but the idea, revived again in our days in spite of erasmus's own painstaking denial, that aleander should have cunningly and expressly driven him from the netherlands, is inherently improbable. so far as the church was concerned, erasmus would at almost any point be more dangerous than at louvain, in the headquarters of conservatism, under immediate control of the strict burgundian government, where, it seemed, he could sooner or later be pressed into the service of the anti-lutheran policy. it was this contingency, as dr. allen has correctly pointed out, which he feared and evaded. not for his bodily safety did he emigrate; erasmus would not have been touched--he was far too valuable an asset for such measures. it was his mental independence, so dear to him above all else, that he felt to be threatened; and, to safeguard that, he did not return to louvain. [illustration: xix. the house at anderlecht where erasmus lived from may to november ] [illustration: xx. erasmus's study at anderlecht] footnotes: [ ] translation on pp. ff. chapter xvii erasmus at basle - basle his dwelling-place for nearly eight years: - --political thought of erasmus--concord and peace--anti-war writings--opinions concerning princes and government--new editions of several fathers--the _colloquia_--controversies with stunica, beda, etc.--quarrel with hutten--eppendorff it is only towards the evening of life that the picture of erasmus acquires the features with which it was to go down to posterity. only at basle--delivered from the troublesome pressure of parties wanting to enlist him, transplanted from an environment of haters and opponents at louvain to a circle of friends, kindred spirits, helpers and admirers, emancipated from the courts of princes, independent of the patronage of the great, unremittingly devoting his tremendous energy to the work that was dear to him--did he become holbein's erasmus. in those late years he approaches most closely to the ideal of his personal life. he did not think that there were still fifteen years in store for him. long before, in fact, since he became forty years old in , erasmus had been in an old-age mood. 'the last act of the play has begun,' he keeps saying after . he now felt practically independent as to money matters. many years had passed before he could say that. but peace of mind did not come with competence. it never came. he never became truly placid and serene, as holbein's picture seems to represent him. he was always too much concerned about what people said or thought of him. even at basle he did not feel thoroughly at home. he still speaks repeatedly of a removal in the near future to rome, to france, to england, or back to the netherlands. physical rest, at any rate, which was not in him, was granted him by circumstances: for nearly eight years he now remained at basle, and then he lived at freiburg for six. erasmus at basle is a man whose ideals of the world and society have failed him. what remains of that happy expectation of a golden age of peace and light, in which he had believed as late as ? what of his trust in good will and rational insight, in which he wrote the _institutio principis christiani_ for the youthful charles v? to erasmus all the weal of state and society had always been merely a matter of personal morality and intellectual enlightenment. by recommending and spreading those two he at one time thought he had introduced the great renovation himself. from the moment when he saw that the conflict would lead to an exasperated struggle he refused any longer to be anything but a spectator. as an actor in the great ecclesiastical combat erasmus had voluntarily left the stage. but he does not give up his ideal. 'let us resist,' he concludes an epistle about gospel philosophy, 'not by taunts and threats, not by force of arms and injustice, but by simple discretion, by benefits, by gentleness and tolerance.' towards the close of his life, he prays: 'if thou, o god, deignst to renew that holy spirit in the hearts of all, then also will those external disasters cease.... bring order to this chaos, lord jesus, let thy spirit spread over these waters of sadly troubled dogmas.' concord, peace, sense of duty and kindliness, were all valued highly by erasmus; yet he rarely saw them realized in practical life. he becomes disillusioned. after the short spell of political optimism he never speaks of the times any more but in bitter terms--a most criminal age, he says--and again, the most unhappy and most depraved age imaginable. in vain had he always written in the cause of peace: _querela pacis_, the complaint of peace, the adage _dulce bellum inexpertis_, war is sweet to those who have not known it, _oratio de pace et discordia_, and more still. erasmus thought rather highly of his pacifistic labours: 'that polygraph, who never leaves off persecuting war by means of his pen', thus he makes a character of the _colloquies_ designate himself. according to a tradition noted by melanchthon, pope julius is said to have called him before him in connection with his advice about the war with venice,[ ] and to have remarked to him angrily that he should stop writing on the concerns of princes: 'you do not understand those things!' erasmus had, in spite of a certain innate moderation, a wholly non-political mind. he lived too much outside of practical reality, and thought too naïvely of the corrigibility of mankind, to realize the difficulties and necessities of government. his ideas about a good administration were extremely primitive, and, as is often the case with scholars of a strong ethical bias, very revolutionary at bottom, though he never dreamed of drawing the practical inferences. his friendship with political and juridical thinkers, as more, budaeus and zasius, had not changed him. questions of forms of government, law or right, did not exist for him. economic problems he saw in idyllic simplicity. the prince should reign gratuitously and impose as few taxes as possible. 'the good prince has all that loving citizens possess.' the unemployed should be simply driven away. we feel in closer contact with the world of facts when he enumerates the works of peace for the prince: the cleaning of towns, building of bridges, halls, and streets, draining of pools, shifting of river-beds, the diking and reclamation of moors. it is the netherlander who speaks here, and at the same time the man in whom the need of cleansing and clearing away is a fundamental trait of character. vague politicians like erasmus are prone to judge princes very severely, since they take them to be responsible for all wrongs. erasmus praises them personally, but condemns them in general. from the kings of his time he had for a long time expected peace in church and state. they had disappointed him. but his severe judgement of princes he derived rather from classical reading than from political experience of his own times. in the later editions of the _adagia_ he often reverts to princes, their task and their neglect of duty, without ever mentioning special princes. 'there are those who sow the seeds of dissension between their townships in order to fleece the poor unhindered and to satisfy their gluttony by the hunger of innocent citizens.' in the adage _scarabeus aquilam quaerit_ he represents the prince under the image of the eagle as the great cruel robber and persecutor. in another, _aut regem aut fatuum nasci oportere_, and in _dulce bellum inexpertis_ he utters his frequently quoted dictum: 'the people found and develop towns, the folly of princes devastates them.' 'the princes conspire with the pope, and perhaps with the turk, against the happiness of the people,' he writes to colet in . he was an academic critic writing from his study. a revolutionary purpose was as foreign to erasmus as it was to more when writing the _utopia_. 'bad monarchs should perhaps be suffered now and then. the remedy should not be tried.' it may be doubted whether erasmus exercised much real influence on his contemporaries by means of his diatribes against princes. one would fain believe that his ardent love of peace and bitter arraignment of the madness of war had some effect. they have undoubtedly spread pacific sentiments in the broad circles of intellectuals who read erasmus, but unfortunately the history of the sixteenth century shows little evidence that such sentiments bore fruit in actual practice. however this may be, erasmus's strength was not in these political declamations. he could never be a leader of men with their passions and their harsh interests. his life-work lay elsewhere. now, at basle, though tormented more and more frequently by his painful complaint which he had already carried for so many years, he could devote himself more fully than ever before to the great task he had set himself: the opening up of the pure sources of christianity, the exposition of the truth of the gospel in all the simple comprehensibility in which he saw it. in a broad stream flowed the editions of the fathers, of classic authors, the new editions of the new testament, of the _adagia_, of his own letters, together with paraphrases of the new testament, commentaries on psalms, and a number of new theological, moral and philological treatises. in he was ill for months on end; yet in that year arnobius and the third edition of the new testament succeeded cyprian, whom he had already annotated at louvain and edited in , closely followed by hilary in and next by a new edition of jerome in . later appeared irenaeus, ; ambrose, ; augustine, - , and a latin translation of chrysostom in . the rapid succession of these comprehensive works proves that the work was done as erasmus always worked: hastily, with an extraordinary power of concentration and a surprising command of his mnemonic faculty, but without severe criticism and the painful accuracy that modern philology requires in such editions. neither the polemical erasmus nor the witty humorist had been lost in the erudite divine and the disillusioned reformer. the paper-warrior we would further gladly have dispensed with, but not the humorist, for many treasures of literature. but the two are linked inseparably as the _colloquies_ prove. what was said about the _moria_ may be repeated here: if in the literature of the world only the _colloquies_ and the _moria_ have remained alive, that choice of history is right. not in the sense that in literature only erasmus's pleasantest, lightest and most readable works were preserved, whereas the ponderous theological erudition was silently relegated to the shelves of libraries. it was indeed erasmus's best work that was kept alive in the _moria_ and the _colloquies_. with these his sparkling wit has charmed the world. if only we had space here to assign to the erasmus of the _colloquies_ his just and lofty place in that brilliant constellation of sixteenth-century followers of democritus: rabelais, ariosto, montaigne, cervantes, and ben jonson! when erasmus gave the _colloquies_ their definite form at basle, they had already had a long and curious genesis. at first they had been no more than _familiarium colloquiorum formulae_, models of colloquial latin conversation, written at paris before , for the use of his pupils. augustine caminade, the shabby friend who was fond of living on young erasmus's genius, had collected them and had turned them to advantage within a limited compass. he had long been dead when one lambert hollonius of liége sold the manuscript that he had got from caminade to froben at basle. beatus rhenanus, although then already erasmus's trusted friend, had it printed at once without the latter's knowledge. that was in . erasmus was justly offended at it, the more so as the book was full of slovenly blunders and solecisms. so he at once prepared a better edition himself, published by maertensz at louvain in . at that time the work really contained but one true dialogue, the nucleus of the later _convivium profanum_. the rest were formulae of etiquette and short talks. but already in this form it was, apart from its usefulness to latinists, so full of happy wit and humorous invention that it became very popular. even before it had appeared in twenty-five editions, mostly reprints, at antwerp, paris, strassburg, cologne, cracow, deventer, leipzig, london, vienna, mayence. at basle erasmus himself revised an edition which was published in march by froben, dedicated to the latter's six-year-old son, the author's godchild, johannes erasmius froben. soon after he did more than revise. in and first ten new dialogues, afterwards four, and again six, were added to the _formulae_, and at last in the title was changed to _familiarium colloquiorum opus_. it remained dedicated to the boy froben and went on growing with each new edition: a rich and motley collection of dialogues, each a masterpiece of literary form, well-knit, spontaneous, convincing, unsurpassed in lightness, vivacity and fluent latin; each one a finished one-act play. from that year on, the stream of editions and translations flowed almost uninterruptedly for two centuries. erasmus's mind had lost nothing of its acuteness and freshness when, so many years after the _moria_, he again set foot in the field of satire. as to form, the _colloquies_ are less confessedly satirical than the _moria_. with its telling subject, the _praise of folly_, the latter at once introduces itself as a satire: whereas, at first sight, the _colloquies_ might seem to be mere innocent genre-pieces. but as to the contents, they are more satirical, at least more directly so. the _moria_, as a satire, is philosophical and general; the _colloquia_ are up to date and special. at the same time they combine more the positive and negative elements. in the _moria_ erasmus's own ideal dwells unexpressed behind the representation; in the _colloquia_ he continually and clearly puts it in the foreground. on this account they form, notwithstanding all the jests and mockery, a profoundly serious moral treatise and are closely akin to the _enchiridion militis christiani_. what erasmus really demanded of the world and of mankind, how he pictured to himself that passionately desired, purified christian society of good morals, fervent faith, simplicity and moderation, kindliness, toleration and peace--this we can nowhere else find so clearly and well-expressed as in the _colloquia_. in these last fifteen years of his life erasmus resumes, by means of a series of moral-dogmatic disquisitions, the topics he broached in the _enchiridion_: the exposition of simple, general christian conduct; untrammelled and natural ethics. that is his message of redemption. it came to many out of _exomologesis_, _de esu carnium_, _lingua_, _institutio christiani matrimonii_, _vidua christiana_, _ecclesiastes_. but, to far larger numbers, the message was contained in the _colloquies_. the _colloquia_ gave rise to much more hatred and contest than the _moria_, and not without reason, for in them erasmus attacked persons. he allowed himself the pleasure of ridiculing his louvain antagonists. lee had already been introduced as a sycophant and braggart into the edition of , and when the quarrel was assuaged, in , the reference was expunged. vincent dirks was caricatured in _the funeral_ ( ) as a covetous friar, who extorts from the dying testaments in favour of his order. he remained. later sarcastic observations were added about beda and numbers of others. the adherents of oecolampadius took a figure with a long nose in the _colloquies_ for their leader: 'oh, no,' replied erasmus, 'it is meant for quite another person.' henceforth all those who were at loggerheads with erasmus, and they were many, ran the risk of being pilloried in the _colloquia_. it was no wonder that this work, especially with its scourging mockery of the monastic orders, became the object of controversy. * * * * * erasmus never emerged from his polemics. he was, no doubt, serious when he said that, in his heart, he abhorred and had never desired them; but his caustic mind often got the better of his heart, and having once begun to quarrel he undoubtedly enjoyed giving his mockery the rein and wielding his facile dialectic pen. for understanding his personality it is unnecessary here to deal at large with all those fights on paper. only the most important ones need be mentioned. since a pot had been boiling for erasmus in spain. a theologian of the university at alcalá, diego lopez zuñiga, or, in latin, stunica, had been preparing annotations to the edition of the new testament: 'a second lee', said erasmus. at first cardinal ximenes had prohibited the publication, but in , after his death, the storm broke. for some years stunica kept persecuting erasmus with his criticism, to the latter's great vexation; at last there followed a _rapprochement_, probably as erasmus became more conservative, and a kindly attitude on the part of stunica. no less long and violent was the quarrel with the syndic of the sorbonne, noel bedier or beda, which began in . the sorbonne was prevailed upon to condemn several of erasmus's dicta as heretical in . the effort of beda to implicate erasmus in the trial of louis de berquin, who had translated the condemned writings and who was eventually burned at the stake for faith's sake in , made the matter still more disagreeable for erasmus. it is clear enough that both at paris and at louvain in the circles of the theological faculties the chief cause of exasperation was in the _colloquia_. egmondanus and vincent dirks did not forgive erasmus for having acridly censured their station and their personalities. more courteous than the aforementioned polemics was the fight with a high-born italian, alberto pio, prince of carpi; acrid and bitter was one with a group of spanish monks, who brought the inquisition to bear upon him. in spain 'erasmistas' was the name of those who inclined to more liberal conceptions of the creed. in this way the matter accumulated for the volume of erasmus's works which contains, according to his own arrangement, all his _apologiae_: not 'excuses', but 'vindications'. 'miserable man that i am; they just fill a volume,' exclaimed erasmus. two of his polemics merit a somewhat closer examination: that with ulrich von hutten and that with luther. [illustration: xxi. martin luther as a monk] [illustration: xxii. ulrich von hutten] hutten, knight and humanist, the enthusiastic herald of a national german uplift, the ardent hater of papacy and supporter of luther, was certainly a hot-head and perhaps somewhat of a muddle-head. he had applauded erasmus when the latter still seemed to be the coming man and had afterwards besought him to take luther's side. erasmus had soon discovered that this noisy partisan might compromise him. had not one of hutten's rash satires been ascribed to him, erasmus? there came a time when hutten could no longer abide erasmus. his knightly instinct reacted on the very weaknesses of erasmus's character: the fear of committing himself and the inclination to repudiate a supporter in time of danger. erasmus knew that weakness himself: 'not all have strength enough for martyrdom,' he writes to richard pace in . 'i fear that i shall, in case it results in a tumult, follow st. peter's example.' but this acknowledgement does not discharge him from the burden of hutten's reproaches which he flung at him in fiery language in . in this quarrel erasmus's own fame pays the penalty of his fault. for nowhere does he show himself so undignified and puny as in that 'sponge against hutten's mire', which the latter did not live to read. hutten, disillusioned and forsaken, died at an early age in , and erasmus did not scruple to publish the venomous pamphlet against his former friend after his demise. hutten, however, was avenged upon erasmus living. one of his adherents, henry of eppendorff, inherited hutten's bitter disgust with erasmus and persecuted him for years. getting hold of one of erasmus's letters in which he was denounced, he continually threatened him with an action for defamation of character. eppendorff's hostility so thoroughly exasperated erasmus that he fancied he could detect his machinations and spies everywhere even after the actual persecution had long ceased. footnotes: [ ] melanchthon, _opera, corpus reformatorum_, xii , where he refers to _querela pacis_, which, however, was not written before ; _vide_ a. and i p. . . chapter xviii controversy with luther and growing conservatism - erasmus persuaded to write against luther--_de libero arbitrio_: --luther's answer: _de servo arbitrio_--erasmus's indefiniteness contrasted with luther's extreme rigour--erasmus henceforth on the side of conservatism--the bishop of basle and oecolampadius--erasmus's half-hearted dogmatics: confession, ceremonies, worship of the saints, eucharist--_institutio christiani matrimonii_: --he feels surrounded by enemies at length erasmus was led, in spite of all, to do what he had always tried to avoid: he wrote against luther. but it did not in the least resemble the _geste_ erasmus at one time contemplated, in the cause of peace in christendom and uniformity of faith, to call a halt to the impetuous luther, and thereby to recall the world to its senses. in the great act of the reformation their polemics were merely an after-play. not erasmus alone was disillusioned and tired--luther too was past his heroic prime, circumscribed by conditions, forced into the world of affairs, a disappointed man. erasmus had wished to persevere in his resolution to remain a spectator of the great tragedy. 'if, as appears from the wonderful success of luther's cause, god wills all this'--thus did erasmus reason--'and he has perhaps judged such a drastic surgeon as luther necessary for the corruption of these times, then it is not my business to withstand him.' but he was not left in peace. while he went on protesting that he had nothing to do with luther and differed widely from him, the defenders of the old church adhered to the standpoint urged as early as by nicholas of egmond before the rector of louvain: 'so long as he refuses to write against luther, we take him to be a lutheran'. so matters stood. 'that you are looked upon as a lutheran here is certain,' vives writes to him from the netherlands in . ever stronger became the pressure to write against luther. from henry viii came a call, communicated by erasmus's old friend tunstall, from george of saxony, from rome itself, whence pope adrian vi, his old patron, had urged him shortly before his death. erasmus thought he could refuse no longer. he tried some dialogues in the style of the _colloquies_, but did not get on with them; and probably they would not have pleased those who were desirous of enlisting his services. between luther and erasmus himself there had been no personal correspondence, since the former had promised him, in ; 'well then, erasmus, i shall not mention your name again.' now that erasmus had prepared to attack luther, however, there came an epistle from the latter, written on april , in which the reformer, in his turn, requested erasmus in his own words: 'please remain now what you have always professed yourself desirous of being: a mere spectator of our tragedy'. there is a ring of ironical contempt in luther's words, but erasmus called the letter 'rather humane; i had not the courage to reply with equal humanity, because of the sycophants'. in order to be able to combat luther with a clear conscience erasmus had naturally to choose a point on which he differed from luther in his heart. it was not one of the more superficial parts of the church's structure. for these he either, with luther, cordially rejected, such as ceremonies, observances, fasting, etc., or, though more moderately than luther, he had his doubts about them, as the sacraments or the primacy of st. peter. so he naturally came to the point where the deepest gulf yawned between their natures, between their conceptions of the essence of faith, and thus to the central and eternal problem of good and evil, guilt and compulsion, liberty and bondage, god and man. luther confessed in his reply that here indeed the vital point had been touched. _de libero arbitrio diatribe_ (_a disquisition upon free will_) appeared in september . was erasmus qualified to write about such a subject? in conformity with his method and with his evident purpose to vindicate authority and tradition, this time, erasmus developed the argument that scripture teaches, doctors affirm, philosophers prove, and human reason testifies man's will to be free. without acknowledgement of free will the terms of god's justice and god's mercy remain without meaning. what would be the sense of the teachings, reproofs, admonitions of scripture (timothy iii.) if all happened according to mere and inevitable necessity? to what purpose is obedience praised, if for good and evil works we are equally but tools to god, as the hatchet to the carpenter? and if this were so, it would be dangerous to reveal such a doctrine to the multitude, for morality is dependent on the consciousness of freedom. luther received the treatise of his antagonist with disgust and contempt. in writing his reply, however, he suppressed these feelings outwardly and observed the rules of courtesy. but his inward anger is revealed in the contents itself of _de servo arbitrio_ (_on the will not free_). for here he really did what erasmus had just reproached him with--trying to heal a dislocated member by tugging at it in the opposite direction. more fiercely than ever before, his formidable boorish mind drew the startling inferences of his burning faith. without any reserve he now accepted all the extremes of absolute determinism. in order to confute indeterminism in explicit terms, he was now forced to have recourse to those primitive metaphors of exalted faith striving to express the inexpressible: god's two wills, which do not coincide, god's 'eternal hatred of mankind, a hatred not only on account of demerits and the works of free will, but a hatred that existed even before the world was created', and that metaphor of the human will, which, as a riding beast, stands in the middle between god and the devil and which is mounted by one or the other without being able to move towards either of the two contending riders. if anywhere, luther's doctrine in _de servo arbitrio_ means a recrudescence of faith and a straining of religious conceptions. but it was luther who here stood on the rockbed of a profound and mystic faith in which the absolute conscience of the eternal pervades all. in him all conceptions, like dry straw, were consumed in the glow of god's majesty, for him each human co-operation to attain to salvation was a profanation of god's glory. erasmus's mind after all did not truly _live_ in the ideas which were here disputed, of sin and grace, of redemption and the glory of god as the final cause of all that is. was, then, erasmus's cause in all respects inferior? was luther right at the core? perhaps. dr. murray rightly reminds us of hegel's saying that tragedy is not the conflict between right and wrong, but the conflict between right and right. the combat of luther and erasmus proceeded beyond the point at which our judgement is forced to halt and has to accept an equivalence, nay, a compatibility of affirmation and negation. and this fact, that they here were fighting with words and metaphors in a sphere beyond that of what may be known and expressed, was understood by erasmus. erasmus, the man of the fine shades, for whom ideas eternally blended into each other and interchanged, called a proteus by luther; luther the man of over-emphatic expression about all matters. the dutchman, who sees the sea, was opposed to the german, who looks out on mountain tops. 'this is quite true that we cannot speak of god but with inadequate words.' 'many problems should be deferred, not to the oecumenical council, but till the time when, the glass and the darkness having been taken away, we shall see god face to face.' 'what is free of error?' 'there are in sacred literature certain sanctuaries into which god has not willed that we should penetrate further.' the catholic church had on the point of free will reserved to itself some slight proviso, left a little elbow-room to the consciousness of human liberty _under_ grace. erasmus conceived that liberty in a considerably broader spirit. luther absolutely denied it. the opinion of contemporaries was at first too much dominated by their participation in the great struggle as such: they applauded erasmus, because he struck boldly at luther, or the other way about, according to their sympathies. not only vives applauded erasmus, but also more orthodox catholics such as sadolet. the german humanists, unwilling, for the most part, to break with the ancient church, were moved by erasmus's attack to turn their backs still more upon luther: mutianus, zasius, and pirckheimer. even melanchthon inclined to erasmus's standpoint. others, like capito, once a zealous supporter, now washed their hands of him. soon calvin with the iron cogency of his argument was completely to take luther's side. it is worth while to quote the opinion of a contemporary catholic scholar about the relations of erasmus and luther. 'erasmus,' says f. x. kiefl,[ ] 'with his concept of free, unspoiled human nature was intrinsically much more foreign to the church than luther. he only combated it, however, with haughty scepticism: for which reason luther with subtle psychology upbraided him for liking to speak of the shortcomings and the misery of the church of christ in such a way that his readers could not help laughing, instead of bringing his charges, with deep sighs, as beseemed before god.' the _hyperaspistes_, a voluminous treatise in which erasmus again addressed luther, was nothing but an epilogue, which need not be discussed here at length. erasmus had thus, at last, openly taken sides. for, apart from the dogmatical point at issue itself, the most important part about _de libero arbitrio_ was that in it he had expressly turned against the individual religious conceptions and had spoken in favour of the authority and tradition of the church. he always regarded himself as a catholic. 'neither death nor life shall draw me from the communion of the catholic church,' he writes in , and in the _hyperaspistes_ in : 'i have never been an apostate from the catholic church. i know that in this church, which you call the papist church, there are many who displease me, but such i also see in your church. one bears more easily the evils to which one is accustomed. therefore i bear with this church, until i shall see a better, and it cannot help bearing with me, until i shall myself be better. and he does not sail badly who steers a middle course between two several evils.' but was it possible to keep to that course? on either side people turned away from him. 'i who, formerly, in countless letters was addressed as thrice great hero, prince of letters, sun of studies, maintainer of true theology, am now ignored, or represented in quite different colours,' he writes. how many of his old friends and congenial spirits had already gone! a sufficient number remained, however, who thought and hoped as erasmus did. his untiring pen still continued to propagate, especially by means of his letters, the moderating and purifying influence of his mind throughout all the countries of europe. scholars, high church dignitaries, nobles, students, and civil magistrates were his correspondents. the bishop of basle himself, christopher of utenheim, was a man after erasmus's heart. a zealous advocate of humanism, he had attempted, as early as , to reform the clergy of his bishopric by means of synodal statutes, without much success; afterwards he had called scholars like oecolampadius, capito and wimpfeling to basle. that was before the great struggle began, which was soon to carry away oecolampadius and capito much further than the bishop of basle or erasmus approved. in erasmus addressed the bishop in a treatise _de interdicto esu carnium_ (_on the prohibition of eating meat_). this was one of the last occasions on which he directly opposed the established order. the bishop, however, could no longer control the movement. a considerable number of the commonalty of basle and the majority of the council, were already on the side of radical reformation. about a year after erasmus, johannes oecolampadius, whose first residence at basle had also coincided with his (at that time he had helped erasmus with hebrew for the edition of the new testament), returned to the town with the intention of organizing the resistance to the old order there. in the council appointed him professor of holy scripture in the university; at the same time four catholic professors lost their places. he succeeded in obtaining general permission for unlicensed preaching. soon a far more hot-headed agitator, the impetuous guillaume farel, also arrived for active work at basle and in the environs. he is the man who will afterwards reform geneva and persuade calvin to stay there. though at first oecolampadius began to introduce novelties into the church service with caution, erasmus saw these innovations with alarm. especially the fanaticism of farel, whom he hated bitterly. it was these men who retarded what he still desired and thought possible: a compromise. his lambent spirit, which never fully decided in favour of a definite opinion, had, with regard to most of the disputed points, gradually fixed on a half-conservative midway standpoint, by means of which, without denying his deepest conviction, he tried to remain faithful to the church. in he had expressed his sentiments about confession in the treatise _exomologesis_ (_on the way to confess_). he accepts it halfway: if not instituted by christ or the apostles, it was, in any case, by the fathers. it should be piously preserved. confession is of excellent use, though, at times, a great evil. in this way he tries 'to admonish either party', 'neither to agree with nor to assail' the deniers, 'though inclining to the side of the believers'. in the long list of his polemics he gradually finds opportunities to define his views somewhat; circumstantially, for instance, in the answers to alberto pio, of and . subsequently it is always done in the form of an _apologia_, whether he is attacked for the _colloquia_, for the _moria_, jerome, the _paraphrases_ or anything else. at last he recapitulates his views to some extent in _de amabili ecclesiae concordia_ (_on the amiable concord of the church_), of , which, however, ranks hardly any more among his reformatory endeavours. on most points erasmus succeeds in finding moderate and conservative formulae. even with regard to ceremonies he no longer merely rejects. he finds a kind word to say even for fasting, which he had always abhorred, for the veneration of relics and for church festivals. he does not want to abolish the worship of the saints: it no longer entails danger of idolatry. he is even willing to admit the images: 'he who takes the imagery out of life deprives it of its highest pleasure; we often discern more in images than we conceive from the written word'. regarding christ's substantial presence in the sacrament of the altar he holds fast to the catholic view, but without fervour, only on the ground of the church's consensus, and because he cannot believe that christ, who is truth and love, would have suffered his bride to cling so long to so horrid an error as to worship a crust of bread instead of him. but for these reasons he might, at need, accept oecolampadius's view. from the period at basle dates one of the purest and most beneficent moral treatises of erasmus's, the _institutio christiani matrimonii_ (_on christian marriage_) of , written for catherine of aragon, queen of england, quite in the spirit of the _enchiridion_, save for a certain diffuseness betraying old age. later follows _de vidua christiana_, _the christian widow_, for mary of hungary, which is as impeccable but less interesting. all this did not disarm the defenders of the old church. they held fast to the clear picture of erasmus's creed that arose from the _colloquies_ and that could not be called purely catholic. there it appeared only too clearly that, however much erasmus might desire to leave the letter intact, his heart was not in the convictions which were vital to the catholic church. consequently the _colloquies_ were later, when erasmus's works were expurgated, placed on the index in the lump, with the _moria_ and a few other works. the rest is _caute legenda_, to be read with caution. much was rejected of the annotations to the new testament, of the _paraphrases_ and the _apologiae_, very little of the _enchiridion_, of the _ratio verae theologiae_, and even of the _exomologesis_. but this was after the fight against the living erasmus had long been over. so long as he remained at basle, or elsewhere, as the centre of a large intellectual group whose force could not be estimated, just because it did not stand out as a party--it was not known what turn he might yet take, what influence his mind might yet have on the church. he remained a king of minds in his quiet study. the hatred that was felt for him, the watching of all his words and actions, were of a nature as only falls to the lot of the acknowledged great. the chorus of enemies who laid the fault of the whole reformation on erasmus was not silenced. 'he laid the eggs which luther and zwingli have hatched.' with vexation erasmus quoted ever new specimens of narrow-minded, malicious and stupid controversy. at constance there lived a doctor who had hung his portrait on the wall merely to spit at it as often as he passed it. erasmus jestingly compares his fate to that of saint cassianus, who was stabbed to death by his pupils with pencils. had he not been pierced to the quick for many years by the pens and tongues of countless people and did he not live in that torment without death bringing the end? the keen sensitiveness to opposition was seated very deeply with erasmus. and he could never forbear irritating others into opposing him. footnotes: [ ] _luther's religiöse psyche_, hochland xv, , p. . chapter xix at war with humanists and reformers - erasmus turns against the excesses of humanism: its paganism and pedantic classicism--_ciceronianus_: --it brings him new enemies--the reformation carried through at basle--he emigrates to freiburg: --his view concerning the results of the reformation nothing is more characteristic of the independence which erasmus reserved for himself regarding all movements of his time than the fact that he also joined issue in the camp of the humanists. in there were published by froben (the chief of the firm of johannes froben had just died) two dialogues in one volume from erasmus's hand: one about the correct pronunciation of latin and greek, and one entitled _ciceronianus_ or _on the best diction_, i.e. in writing and speaking latin. both were proofs that erasmus had lost nothing of his liveliness and wit. the former treatise was purely philological, and as such has had great influence; the other was satirical as well. it had a long history. erasmus had always regarded classical studies as the panacea of civilization, provided they were made serviceable to pure christianity. his sincere ethical feeling made him recoil from the obscenity of a poggio and the immorality of the early italian humanists. at the same time his delicate and natural taste told him that a pedantic and servile imitation of antique models could never produce the desired result. erasmus knew latin too well to be strictly classical; his latin was alive and required freedom. in his early works we find taunts about the over-precise latin purists: one had declared a newly found fragment of cicero to be thoroughly barbaric; 'among all sorts of authors none are so insufferable to me as those apes of cicero'. in spite of the great expectations he cherished of classical studies for pure christianity, he saw one danger: 'that under the cloak of reviving ancient literature paganism tries to rear its head, as there are those among christians who acknowledge christ only in name but inwardly breathe heathenism'. this he writes in to capito. in italy scholars devote themselves too exclusively and in too pagan guise to _bonae literae_. he considered it his special task to assist in bringing it about that those _bonae literae_ 'which with the italians have thus far been almost pagan, shall get used to speaking of christ'. how it must have vexed erasmus that in italy of all countries he was, at the same time and in one breath, charged with heresy and questioned in respect to his knowledge and integrity as a scholar. italians accused him of plagiarism and trickery. he complained of it to aleander, who, he thought, had a hand in it. in a letter of october , to a professor at toledo, we find the _ébauche_ of the _ciceronianus_. in addition to the haters of classic studies for the sake of orthodox belief, writes erasmus, 'lately another and new sort of enemies has broken from their ambush. these are troubled that the _bonae literae_ speak of christ, as though nothing can be elegant but what is pagan. to their ears _jupiter optimus maximus_ sounds more pleasant than _jesus christus redemptor mundi_, and _patres conscripti_ more agreeable than _sancti apostoli_.... they account it a greater dishonour to be no ciceronian than no christian, as if cicero, if he should now come to life again, would not speak of christian things in other words than in his time he spoke of his own religion!... what is the sense of this hateful swaggering with the name ciceronian? i will tell you briefly, in your ear. with that pearl-powder they cover the paganism that is dearer to them than the glory of christ.' to erasmus cicero's style is by no means the ideal one. he prefers something more solid, succinct, vigorous, less polished, more manly. he who sometimes has to write a book in a day has no time to polish his style, often not even to read it over.... 'what do i care for an empty dish of words, ten words here and there mumped from cicero: i want all cicero's spirit.' these are apes at whom one may laugh, for far more serious than these things are the tumults of the so-called new gospel, to which he next proceeds in this letter. and so, in the midst of all his polemics and bitter vindication, he allowed himself once more the pleasure of giving the reins to his love of scoffing, but, as in the _moria_ and _colloquia_, ennobled by an almost passionate sincerity of christian disposition and a natural sense of measure. the _ciceronianus_ is a masterpiece of ready, many-sided knowledge, of convincing eloquence, and of easy handling of a wealth of arguments. with splendid, quiet and yet lively breadth flows the long conversation between bulephorus, representing erasmus's opinions, hypologus, the interested inquirer, and nosoponus, the zealous ciceronian, who, to preserve a perfect purity of mind, breakfasts off ten currants. erasmus in drawing nosoponus had evidently, in the main, alluded to one who could no longer reply: christopher longolius, who had died in . the core of the _ciceronianus_ is where erasmus points out the danger to christian faith of a too zealous classicism. he exclaims urgently: 'it is paganism, believe me, nosoponus, it is paganism that charms our ear and our soul in such things. we are christians in name alone.' why does a classic proverb sound better to us than a quotation from the bible: _corchorum inter olera_, 'chick-weed among the vegetables', better than 'saul among the prophets'? as a sample of the absurdity of ciceronianism, he gives a translation of a dogmatic sentence in classical language: 'optimi maximique jovis interpres ac filius, servator, rex, juxta vatum responsa, ex olympo devolavit in terras,' for: jesus christ, the word and the son of the eternal father, came into the world according to the prophets. most humanists wrote indeed in that style. was erasmus aware that he here attacked his own past? after all, was it not exactly the same thing which he had done, to the indignation of his opponents, when translating _logos_ by _sermo_ instead of by _verbum_? had he not himself desired that in the church hymns the metre should be corrected, not to mention his own classical odes and paeans to mary and the saints? and was his warning against the partiality for classic proverbs and turns applicable to anything more than to the _adagia_? we here see the aged erasmus on the path of reaction, which might eventually have led him far from humanism. in his combat with humanistic purism he foreshadows a christian puritanism. as always his mockery procured him a new flood of invectives. bembo and sadolet, the masters of pure latin, could afford to smile at it, but the impetuous julius caesar scaliger violently inveighed against him, especially to avenge longolius's memory. erasmus's perpetual feeling of being persecuted got fresh food: he again thought that aleander was at the bottom of it. 'the italians set the imperial court against me,' he writes in . a year later all is quiet again. he writes jestingly: 'upon my word, i am going to change my style after budaeus's model and to become a ciceronian according to the example of sadolet and bembo'. but even near the close of his life he was engaged in a new contest with italians, because he had hurt their national pride; 'they rage at me on all sides with slanderous libels, as at the enemy of italy and cicero'. * * * * * there were, as he had said himself, other difficulties touching him more closely. conditions at basle had for years been developing in a direction which distressed and alarmed him. when he established himself there in , it might still have seemed to him as if the bishop, old christopher of utenheim, a great admirer of erasmus and a man after his heart, would succeed in effecting a reformation at basle, as he desired it; abolishing acknowledged abuses, but remaining within the fold of the church. in that very year, , however, the emancipation of the municipality from the bishop's power--it had been in progress since basle, in , had joined the swiss confederacy--was consummated. henceforth the council was number one, now no longer exclusively made up of aristocratic elements. in vain did the bishop ally himself with his colleagues of constance and lausanne to maintain catholicism. in the town the new creed got more and more the upper hand. when, however, in , it had come to open tumults against the catholic service, the council became more cautious and tried to reform more heedfully. oecolampadius desired this, too. relations between him and erasmus were precarious. erasmus himself had at one time directed the religious thought of the impulsive, sensitive, restless young man. when he had, in , suddenly sought refuge in a convent, he had expressly justified that step towards erasmus, the condemner of binding vows. and now they saw each other again at basle, in : oecolampadius having left the monastery, a convinced adherent and apostle of the new doctrine; erasmus, the great spectator which he wished to be. erasmus treated his old coadjutor coolly, and as the latter progressed, retreated more and more. yet he kept steering a middle course and in gave some moderate advice to the council, which meanwhile had turned more catholic again. the old bishop, who for some years had no longer resided in his town, in requested the chapter to relieve him of his office, and died shortly afterwards. then events moved very quickly. after berne had, meanwhile, reformed itself in , oecolampadius demanded a decision also for basle. since the close of the town had been on the verge of civil war. a popular rising put an end to the resistance of the council and cleared it of catholic members; and in february the old service was prohibited, the images were removed from the churches, the convents abolished, and the university suspended. oecolampadius became the first minister in the 'münster' and leader of the basle church, for which he soon drew up a reformatory ordinance. the new bishop remained at porrentruy, and the chapter removed to freiburg. [illustration: xxiii. erasmus's residence at freiburg, - ] the moment of departure had now come for erasmus. his position at basle in somewhat resembled, but in a reversed sense, the one at louvain in . then the catholics wanted to avail themselves of his services against luther, now the evangelicals would fain have kept him at basle. for his name was still as a banner. his presence would strengthen the position of reformed basle; on the one hand, because, as people reasoned, if he were not of the same mind as the reformers, he would have left the town long ago; on the other hand, because his figure seemed to guarantee moderation and might attract many hesitating minds. it was, therefore, again to safeguard his independence that erasmus changed his residence. it was a great wrench this time. old age and invalidism had made the restless man a stay-at-home. as he foresaw trouble from the side of the municipality, he asked archduke ferdinand--who for his brother charles v governed the german empire and just then presided over the diet of speyer--to send him a safe conduct for the whole empire and an invitation, moreover, to come to court, which he did not dream of accepting. as place of refuge he had selected the not far distant town of freiburg im breisgau, which was directly under the strict government of the austrian house, and where he, therefore, need not be afraid of such a turn of affairs as that at basle. it was, moreover, a juncture at which the imperial authority and the catholic cause in germany seemed again to be gaining ground rapidly. erasmus would not or could not keep his departure a secret. he sent the most precious of his possessions in advance, and when this had drawn attention to his plan, he purposely invited oecolampadius to a farewell talk. the reformer declared his sincere friendship for erasmus, which the latter did not decline, provided he granted him to differ on certain points of dogma. oecolampadius tried to keep him from leaving the town, and, when it proved too late for that, to persuade him to return later. they took leave with a handshake. erasmus had desired to join his boat at a distant landing-stage, but the council would not allow this: he had to start from the usual place near the rhine bridge. a numerous crowd witnessed his embarkation, april . some friends were there to see him off. no unfavourable demonstration occurred. his reception at freiburg convinced him that, in spite of all, he was still the celebrated and admired prince of letters. the council placed at his disposal the large, though unfinished, house built for the emperor maximilian himself; a professor of theology offered him his garden. anthony fugger had tried to draw him to augsburg by means of a yearly allowance. for the rest he considered freiburg by no means a permanent place of abode. 'i have resolved to remain here this winter and then to fly with the swallows to the place whither god shall call me.' but he soon recognized the great advantage which freiburg offered. the climate, to which he was so sensitive, turned out better than he expected, and the position of the town was extremely favourable for emigrating to france, should circumstances require this, or for dropping down the rhine back to the netherlands, whither many always called him. in he bought a house at freiburg. the old erasmus at freiburg, ever more tormented by his painful malady, much more disillusioned than when he left louvain in , of more confirmed views as to the great ecclesiastical strife, will only be fully revealed to us when his correspondence with boniface amerbach, the friend whom he left behind at basle--a correspondence not found complete in the older collections--has been edited by dr. allen's care. from no period of erasmus's life, it seems, may so much be gleaned, in point of knowledge of his daily habits and thoughts, as from these very years. work went on without a break in that great scholar's workshop where he directs his famuli, who hunt manuscripts for him, and then copy and examine them, and whence he sends forth his letters all over europe. in the series of editions of the fathers followed basil and new editions of chrysostom and cyprian; his editions of classic authors were augmented by the works of aristotle. he revised and republished the _colloquies_ three more times, the _adages_ and the new testament once more. occasional writings of a moral or politico-theological nature kept flowing from his pen. from the cause of the reformation he was now quite estranged. 'pseudevangelici', he contumeliously calls the reformed. 'i might have been a corypheus in luther's church,' he writes in , 'but i preferred to incur the hatred of all germany to being separate from the community of the church.' the authorities should have paid a little less attention at first to luther's proceedings; then the fire would never have spread so violently. he had always urged theologians to let minor concerns which only contain an appearance of piety rest, and to turn to the sources of scripture. now it was too late. towns and countries united ever more closely for or against the reformation. 'if, what i pray may never happen,' he writes to sadolet in , 'you should see horrible commotions of the world arise, not so fatal for germany as for the church, then remember erasmus prophesied it.' to beatus rhenanus he frequently said that, had he known that an age like theirs was coming, he would never have written many things, or would not have written them as he had. 'just look,' he exclaims, 'at the evangelical people, have they become any better? do they yield less to luxury, lust and greed? show me a man whom that gospel has changed from a toper to a temperate man, from a brute to a gentle creature, from a miser into a liberal person, from a shameless to a chaste being. i will show you many who have become even worse than they were.' now they have thrown the images out of the churches and abolished mass (he is thinking of basle especially): has anything better come instead? 'i have never entered their churches, but i have seen them return from hearing the sermon, as if inspired by an evil spirit, the faces of all showing a curious wrath and ferocity, and there was no one except one old man who saluted me properly, when i passed in the company of some distinguished persons.' he hated that spirit of absolute assuredness so inseparably bound up with the reformers. 'zwingli and bucer may be inspired by the spirit, erasmus from himself is nothing but a man and cannot comprehend what is of the spirit.' there was a group among the reformed to whom erasmus in his heart of hearts was more nearly akin than to the lutherans or zwinglians with their rigid dogmatism: the anabaptists. he rejected the doctrine from which they derived their name, and abhorred the anarchic element in them. he remained far too much the man of spiritual decorum to identify himself with these irregular believers. but he was not blind to the sincerity of their moral aspirations and sympathized with their dislike of brute force and the patience with which they bore persecution. 'they are praised more than all others for the innocence of their life,' he writes in . just in the last part of his life came the episode of the violent revolutionary proceedings of the fanatic anabaptists; it goes without saying that erasmus speaks of it only with horror. one of the best historians of the reformation, walter köhler, calls erasmus one of the spiritual fathers of anabaptism. and certain it is that in its later, peaceful development it has important traits in common with erasmus: a tendency to acknowledge free will, a certain rationalistic trend, a dislike of an exclusive conception of a church. it seems possible to prove that the south german anabaptist hans denk derived opinions directly from erasmus. for a considerable part, however, this community of ideas must, no doubt, have been based on peculiarities of religious consciousness in the netherlands, whence erasmus sprang, and where anabaptism found such a receptive soil. erasmus was certainly never aware of these connections. some remarkable evidence regarding erasmus's altered attitude towards the old and the new church is shown by what follows. the reproach he had formerly so often flung at the advocates of conservatism that they hated the _bonae literae_, so dear to him, and wanted to stifle them, he now uses against the evangelical party. 'wherever lutherism is dominant the study of literature is extinguished. why else,' he continues, using a remarkable sophism, 'are luther and melanchthon compelled to call back the people so urgently to the love of letters?' 'just compare the university of wittenberg with that of louvain or paris!... printers say that before this gospel came they used to dispose of , volumes more quickly than now of . a sure proof that studies flourish!' chapter xx last years religious and political contrasts grow sharper--the coming strife in germany still suspended--erasmus finishes his _ecclesiastes_--death of fisher and more--erasmus back at basle: --pope paul iii wants to make him write in favour of the cause of the council--favours declined by erasmus--_de puritate ecclesiae_--the end: july during the last years of erasmus's life all the great issues which kept the world in suspense were rapidly taking threatening forms. wherever compromise or reunion had before still seemed possible, sharp conflicts, clearly outlined party-groupings, binding formulae were now barring the way to peace. while in the spring of erasmus prepared for his departure from basle, a strong catholic majority of the diet at speyer got the 'recess' of , favourable for the evangelicals, revoked, only the lutherans among them keeping what they had obtained; and secured a prohibition of any further changes or novelties. the zwinglians and anabaptists were not allowed to enjoy the least tolerance. this was immediately followed by the protest of the chief evangelical princes and towns, which henceforth was to give the name to all anti-catholics together ( april ). and not only between catholics and protestants in the empire did the rupture become complete. even before the end of that year the question of the lord's supper proved an insuperable stumbling-block in the way of a real union of zwinglians and lutherans. luther parted from zwingli at the colloquy of marburg with the words, 'your spirit differs from ours'. in switzerland civil war had openly broken out between the catholic and the evangelical cantons, only calmed for a short time by the first peace of kappel. the treaties of cambray and barcelona, which in restored at least political peace in christendom for the time being, could no longer draw from old erasmus jubilations about a coming golden age, like those with which the concord of had inspired him. a month later the turks appeared before vienna. all these occurrences could not but distress and alarm erasmus. but he was outside them. when reading his letters of that period we are more than ever impressed by the fact that, for all the width and liveliness of his mind, he is remote from the great happenings of his time. beyond a certain circle of interests, touching his own ideas or his person, his perceptions are vague and weak. if he still meddles occasionally with questions of the day, he does so in the moralizing manner, by means of generalities, without emphasis: his 'advice about declaring war on the turks' (march ) is written in the form of an interpretation of psalm , and so vague that, at the close, he himself anticipates that the reader may exclaim: 'but now say clearly: do you think that war should be declared or not?' in the summer of the diet met again at augsburg under the auspices of the emperor himself to try once more 'to attain to a good peace and christian truth'. the augsburg confession, defended all too weakly by melanchthon, was read here, disputed, and declared refuted by the emperor. erasmus had no share in all this. many had exhorted him in letters to come to augsburg; but he had in vain expected a summons from the emperor. at the instance of the emperor's counsellors he had postponed his proposed removal to brabant in that autumn till after the decision of the diet. but his services were not needed for the drastic resolution of repression with which the emperor closed the session in november. the great struggle in germany seemed to be approaching: the resolutions of augsburg were followed by the formation of the league of schmalkalden uniting all protestant territories and towns of germany in their opposition to the emperor. in the same year ( ) zwingli was killed in the battle of kappel against the catholic cantons, soon to be followed by oecolampadius, who died at basle. 'it is right', writes erasmus, 'that those two leaders have perished. if mars had been favourable to them, we should now have been done for.' in switzerland a sort of equilibrium had set in; at any rate matters had come to a standstill; in germany the inevitable struggle was postponed for many years. the emperor had understood that, to combat the german protestants effectively, he should first get the pope to hold the council which would abolish the acknowledged abuses of the church. the religious peace of nuremberg ( ) put the seal upon this turn of imperial policy. it might seem as if before long the advocates of moderate reform and of a compromise might after all get a chance of being heard. but erasmus had become too old to actively participate in the decisions (if he had ever seriously considered such participation). he does write a treatise, though, in , 'on the sweet concord of the church', like his 'advice on the turks' in the form of an interpretation of a psalm ( ). but it would seem as if the old vivacity of his style and his power of expression, so long unimpaired, now began to flag. the same remark applies to an essay 'on the preparation for death', published the same year. his voice was growing weaker. during these years he turned his attention chiefly to the completion of the great work which more than any other represented for him the summing up and complete exposition of his moral-theological ideas: _ecclesiastes_ or, _on the way to preach_. erasmus had always regarded preaching as the most dignified part of an ecclesiastic's duties. as preachers, he had most highly valued colet and vitrarius. as early as his friend, john becar of borselen, urged him to follow up the _enchiridion_ of the christian soldier and the _institutio_ of the christian prince, by the true instruction of the christian preacher. 'later, later,' erasmus had promised him, 'at present i have too much work, but i hope to undertake it soon.' in he had already made a sketch and some notes for it. it was meant for john fisher, the bishop of rochester, erasmus's great friend and brother-spirit, who eagerly looked forward to it and urged the author to finish it. the work gradually grew into the most voluminous of erasmus's original writings: a forest of a work, _operis sylvam_, he calls it himself. in four books he treated his subject, the art of preaching well and decorously, with an inexhaustible abundance of examples, illustrations, schemes, etc. but was it possible that a work, conceived already by the erasmus of , and upon which he had been so long engaged, while he himself had gradually given up the boldness of his earlier years, could still be a revelation in , as the _enchiridion_ had been in its day? _ecclesiastes_ is the work of a mind fatigued, which no longer sharply reacts upon the needs of his time. as the result of a correct, intellectual, tasteful instruction in a suitable manner of preaching, in accordance with the purity of the gospel, erasmus expects to see society improve. 'the people become more obedient to the authorities, more respectful towards the law, more peaceable. between husband and wife comes greater concord, more perfect faithfulness, greater dislike of adultery. servants obey more willingly, artisans work better, merchants cheat no more.' at the same time that erasmus took this work to froben, at basle, to print, a book of a young frenchman, who had recently fled from france to basle, passed through the press of another basle printer, thomas platter. it too was to be a manual of the life of faith: the _institution of the christian religion_, by calvin. * * * * * even before erasmus had quite completed the _ecclesiastes_, the man for whom the work had been meant was no more. instead of to the bishop of rochester, erasmus dedicated his voluminous work to the bishop of augsburg, christopher of stadion. john fisher, to set a seal on his spiritual endeavours, resembling those of erasmus in so many respects, had left behind, as a testimony to the world, for which erasmus knew himself too weak, that of martyrdom. on june , he was beheaded by command of henry viii. he died for being faithful to the old church. together with more he had steadfastly refused to take the oath to the statute of supremacy. not two weeks after fisher, thomas more mounted the scaffold. the fate of those two noblest of his friends grieved erasmus. it moved him to do what for years he had no longer done: to write a poem. but rather than in the fine latin measure of that _carmen heroïcum_ one would have liked to hear his emotion in language of sincere dismay and indignation in his letters. they are hardly there. in the words devoted to fisher's death in the preface to the _ecclesiastes_ there is no heartfelt emotion. also in his letters of those days, he speaks with reserve. 'would more had never meddled with that dangerous business, and left the theological cause to the theologians.' as if more had died for aught but simply for his conscience! * * * * * when erasmus wrote these words, he was no longer at freiburg. he had in june gone to basle, to work in froben's printing-office, as of old; the _ecclesiastes_ was at last going to press and still required careful supervision and the final touches during the process; the _adagia_ had to be reprinted, and a latin edition of origenes was in preparation. the old, sick man was cordially received by the many friends who still lived at basle. hieronymus froben, johannes's son, who after his father's death managed the business with two relatives, sheltered him in his house _zum luft_. in the hope of his return a room had been built expressly for him and fitted up as was convenient for him. erasmus found that at basle the ecclesiastical storms which had formerly driven him away had subsided. quiet and order had returned. he did feel a spirit of distrust in the air, it is true, 'but i think that, on account of my age, of habit, and of what little erudition i possess, i have now got so far that i may live in safety anywhere'. at first he had regarded the removal as an experiment. he did not mean to stay at basle. if his health could not stand the change of air, he would return to his fine, well-appointed, comfortable house at freiburg. if he should prove able to bear it, then the choice was between the netherlands (probably brussels, malines or antwerp, perhaps louvain) or burgundy, in particular besançon. towards the end of his life he clung to the illusion which he had been cherishing for a long time that burgundy wine alone was good for him and kept his malady in check. there is something pathetic in the proportions which this wine-question gradually assumes: that it is so dear at basle might be overlooked, but the thievish wagoners drink up or spoil what is imported. in august he doubted greatly whether he will return to freiburg. in october he sold his house and part of his furniture and had the rest transported to basle. after the summer he hardly left his room, and was mostly bedridden. though the formidable worker in him still yearned for more years and time to labour, his soul was ready for death. happy he had never felt; only during the last years he utters his longing for the end. he was still, curiously enough, subject to the delusion of being in the thick of the struggle. 'in this arena i shall have to fall,' he writes in . 'only this consoles me, that near at hand already, the general haven comes in sight, which, if christ be favourable, will bring the end of all labour and trouble.' two years later his voice sounds more urgent: 'that the lord might deign to call me out of this raving world to his rest'. most of his old friends were gone. warham and mountjoy had passed away before more and fisher; peter gilles, so many years younger than he, had departed in ; also pirckheimer had been dead for years. beatus rhenanus shows him to us, during the last months of his life, re-perusing his friends' letters of the last few years, and repeating: 'this one, too, is dead'. as he grew more solitary, his suspiciousness and his feeling of being persecuted became stronger. 'my friends decrease, my enemies increase,' he writes in , when warham has died and aleander has risen still higher. in the autumn of he thinks that all his former servant-pupils betray him, even the best beloved ones like quirin talesius and charles utenhove. they do not write to him, he complains. [illustration: xxiv. cardinal jerome aleander] in october , pope clement vii was succeeded by paul iii, who at once zealously took up the council-question. the meeting of a council was, in the eyes of many, the only means by which union could be restored to the church, and now a chance of realizing this seemed nigh. at once the most learned theologians were invited to help in preparing the great work. erasmus did not omit, in january , to address to the new pope a letter of congratulation, in which he professed his willingness to co-operate in bringing about the pacification of the church, and warned the pope to steer a cautious middle course. on may followed a reply full of kindliness and acknowledgement. the pope exhorted erasmus, 'that you too, graced by god with so much laudable talent and learning, may help us in this pious work, which is so agreeable to your mind, to defend, with us, the catholic religion, by the spoken and the written word, before and during the council, and in this manner by this last work of piety, as by the best act to close a life of religion and so many writings, to refute your accusers and rouse your admirers to fresh efforts.' would erasmus in years of greater strength have seen his way to co-operate actively in the council of the great? undoubtedly, the pope's exhortation correctly represented his inclination. but once faced by the necessity of hard, clear resolutions, what would he have effected? would his spirit of peace and toleration, of reserve and compromise, have brought alleviation and warded off the coming struggle? he was spared the experiment. he knew himself too weak to be able to think of strenuous church-political propaganda any more. soon there came proofs that the kindly feelings at rome were sincere. there had been some question also of numbering erasmus among the cardinals who were to be nominated with a view to the council; a considerable benefice connected with the church of deventer was already offered him. but erasmus urged the roman friends who were thus active in his behalf to cease their kind offices; he would accept nothing, he a man who lived from day to day in expectation of death and often hoping for it, who could hardly ever leave his room--would people instigate _him_ to hunt for deaneries and cardinals' hats! he had subsistence enough to last him. he wanted to die independent. yet his pen did not rest. the _ecclesiastes_ had been printed and published and _origenes_ was still to follow. instead of the important and brilliant task to which rome called him, he devoted his last strength to a simple deed of friendly cordiality. the friend to whose share the honour fell to receive from the old, death-sick author a last composition prepared expressly for him, amidst the most terrible pains, was the most modest of the number who had not lost their faith in him. no prelate or prince, no great wit or admired divine, but christopher eschenfelder, customs officer at boppard on the rhine. on his passage in erasmus had, with glad surprise, found him to be a reader of his work and a man of culture.[ ] that friendship had been a lasting one. eschenfelder had asked erasmus to dedicate the interpretation of some psalm to him (a form of composition often preferred by erasmus of late). about the close of he remembered that request. he had forgotten whether eschenfelder had indicated a particular psalm and chose one at haphazard, psalm , calling the treatise 'on the purity of the christian church'. he expressly dedicated it to 'the publican' in january . it is not remarkable among his writings as to contents and form, but it was to be his last. on february , erasmus made his final preparations. in he had already made a will with detailed clauses for the printing of his complete works by froben. in he drew up an accurate inventory of his belongings. he sold his library to the polish nobleman johannes a lasco. the arrangements of testify to two things which had played an important part in his life: his relations with the house of froben and his need of friendship. boniface amerbach is his heir. hieronymus froben and nicholas episcopius, the managers of the business, are his executors. to each of the good friends left to him he bequeathed one of the trinkets which spoke of his fame with princes and the great ones of the earth, in the first place to louis ber and beatus rhenanus. the poor and the sick were not forgotten, and he remembered especially girls about to marry and youths of promise. the details of this charity he left to amerbach. in march , he still thinks of leaving for burgundy. money matters occupy him and he speaks of the necessity of making new friends, for the old ones leave him: the bishop of cracow, zasius at freiburg. according to beatus rhenanus, the brabant plan stood foremost at the end of erasmus's life. the regent, mary of hungary, did not cease to urge him to return to the netherlands. erasmus's own last utterance leaves us in doubt whether he had made up his mind. 'though i am living here with the most sincere friends, such as i did not possess at freiburg, i should yet, on account of the differences of doctrine, prefer to end my life elsewhere. if only brabant were nearer.' this he writes on june . he had felt so poorly for some days that he had not even been able to read. in the letter we again trace the delusion that aleander persecutes him, sets on opponents against him, and even lays snares for his friends. did his mind at last give way too? on july the end came. the friends around his couch heard him groan incessantly: 'o jesu, misericordia; domine libera me; domine miserere mei!' and at last in dutch: 'lieve god.' footnotes: [ ] see erasmus's letter, p. . chapter xxi conclusion conclusion--erasmus and the spirit of the sixteenth century--his weak points--a thorough idealist and yet a moderate mind--the enlightener of a century--he anticipates tendencies of two centuries later--his influence affects both protestantism and catholic reform--the erasmian spirit in the netherlands looking back on the life of erasmus the question still arises: why has he remained so great? for ostensibly his endeavours ended in failure. he withdraws in alarm from that tremendous struggle which he rightly calls a tragedy; the sixteenth century, bold and vehement, thunders past him, disdaining his ideal of moderation and tolerance. latin literary erudition, which to him was the epitome of all true culture, has gone out as such. erasmus, so far as regards the greater part of his writings, is among the great ones who are no longer read. he has become a name. but why does that name still sound so clear and articulate? why does he keep regarding us, as if he still knew a little more than he has ever been willing to utter? what has he been to his age, and what was he to be for later generations? has he been rightly called a precursor of the modern spirit? regarded as a child of the sixteenth century, he does seem to differ from the general tenor of his times. among those vehemently passionate, drastically energetic and violent natures of the great ones of his day, erasmus stands as the man of too few prejudices, with a little too much delicacy of taste, with a deficiency, though not, indeed, in every department, of that _stultitia_ which he had praised as a necessary constituent of life. erasmus is the man who is too sensible and moderate for the heroic. what a surprising difference there is between the _accent_ of erasmus and that of luther, calvin, and saint teresa! what a difference, also, between his accent, that is, the accent of humanism, and that of albrecht dürer, of michelangelo, or of shakespeare. erasmus seems, at times, the man who was not strong enough for his age. in that robust sixteenth century it seems as if the oaken strength of luther was necessary, the steely edge of calvin, the white heat of loyola; not the velvet softness of erasmus. not only were their force and their fervour necessary, but also their depth, their unsparing, undaunted consistency, sincerity and outspokenness. they cannot bear that smile which makes luther speak of the guileful being looking out of erasmus's features. his piety is too even for them, too limp. loyola has testified that the reading of the _enchiridion militis christiani_ relaxed his fervour and made his devotion grow cold. he saw that warrior of christ differently, in the glowing colours of the spanish-christian, medieval ideal of chivalry. erasmus had never passed through those depths of self-reprobation and that consciousness of sin which luther had traversed with toil; he saw no devil to fight with, and tears were not familiar to him. was he altogether unaware of the deepest mystery? or did it rest in him too deep for utterance? let us not suppose too quickly that we are more nearly allied to luther or loyola because their figures appeal to us more. if at present our admiration goes out again to the ardently pious, and to spiritual extremes, it is partly because our unstable time requires strong stimuli. to appreciate erasmus we should begin by giving up our admiration of the extravagant, and for many this requires a certain effort at present. it is extremely easy to break the staff over erasmus. his faults lie on the surface, and though he wished to hide many things, he never hid his weaknesses. he was too much concerned about what people thought, and he could not hold his tongue. his mind was _too_ rich and facile, always suggesting a superfluity of arguments, cases, examples, quotations. he could never let things slide. all his life he grudged himself leisure to rest and collect himself, to see how unimportant after all was the commotion round about him, if only he went his own way courageously. rest and independence he desired most ardently of all things; there was no more restless and dependent creature. judge him as one of a too delicate constitution who ventures out in a storm. his will-power was great enough. he worked night and day, amidst the most violent bodily suffering, with a great ideal steadfastly before him, never satisfied with his own achievements. he was not self-sufficient. * * * * * as an intellectual type erasmus was one of a rather small group: the absolute idealists who, at the same time, are thoroughly moderate. they can not bear the world's imperfections; they feel constrained to oppose. but extremes are uncongenial to them; they shrink back from action, because they know it pulls down as much as it erects, and so they withdraw themselves, and keep calling that everything should be different; but when the crisis comes, they reluctantly side with tradition and conservatism. here too is a fragment of erasmus's life-tragedy: he was the man who saw the new and coming things more clearly than anyone else--who must needs quarrel with the old and yet could not accept the new. he tried to remain in the fold of the old church, after having damaged it seriously, and renounced the reformation, and to a certain extent even humanism, after having furthered both with all his strength. [illustration: xxv. erasmus at the age of ] * * * * * our final opinion about erasmus has been concerned with negative qualities, so far. what was his positive importance? two facts make it difficult for the modern mind to understand erasmus's positive importance: first that his influence was extensive rather than intensive, and therefore less historically discernible at definite points, and second, that his influence has ceased. he has done his work and will speak to the world no more. like saint jerome, his revered model, and voltaire, with whom he has been occasionally compared, 'he has his reward'. but like them he has been the enlightener of an age from whom a broad stream of culture emanated. [illustration: xxvi. erasmus dictating to his secretary, ] as historic investigation of the french revolution is becoming more and more aware that the true history of france during that period should be looked for in those groups which as 'centre' or 'marais' seemed for a long time but a drove of supernumeraries, and understands that it should occasionally protect its eyes a little from the lightning flashes of the gironde and mountain thunderstorm; so the history of the reformation period should pay attention--and it has done so for a long time--to the broad central sphere permeated by the erasmian spirit. one of his opponents said: 'luther has drawn a large part of the church to himself, zwingli and oecolampadius also some part, but erasmus the largest'. erasmus's public was numerous and of high culture. he was the only one of the humanists who really wrote for all the world, that is to say, for all educated people. he accustomed a whole world to another and more fluent mode of expression: he shifted the interest, he influenced by his perfect clarity of exposition, even through the medium of latin, the style of the vernacular languages, apart from the numberless translations of his works. for his contemporaries erasmus put on many new stops, one might say, of the great organ of human expression, as rousseau was to do two centuries later. he might well think with some complacency of the influence he had exerted on the world. 'from all parts of the world'--he writes towards the close of his life--'i am daily thanked by many, because they have been kindled by my works, whatever may be their merit, into zeal for a good disposition and sacred literature; and they who have never seen erasmus, yet know and love him from his books.' he was glad that his translations from the greek had become superfluous; he had everywhere led many to take up greek and holy scripture, 'which otherwise they would never have read'. he had been an introducer and an initiator. he might leave the stage after having said his say. his word signified something beyond a classical sense and biblical disposition. it was at the same time the first enunciation of the creed of education and perfectibility, of warm social feeling and of faith in human nature, of peaceful kindliness and toleration. 'christ dwells everywhere; piety is practised under every garment, if only a kindly disposition is not wanting.' in all these ideas and convictions erasmus really heralds a later age. in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries those thoughts remained an undercurrent: in the eighteenth erasmus's message of deliverance bore fruit. in this respect he has most certainly been a precursor and preparer of the modern mind: of rousseau, herder, pestalozzi and of the english and american thinkers. it is only part of the modern mind which is represented by all this. to a number of its developments erasmus was wholly a stranger, to the evolution of natural science, of the newer philosophy, of political economy. but in so far as people still believe in the ideal that moral education and general tolerance may make humanity happier, humanity owes much to erasmus. * * * * * this does not imply that erasmus's mind did not directly and fruitfully influence his own times. although catholics regarded him in the heat of the struggle as the corrupter of the church, and protestants as the betrayer of the gospel, yet his word of moderation and kindliness did not pass by unheard or unheeded on either side. eventually neither camp finally rejected erasmus. rome did not brand him as an arch-heretic, but only warned the faithful to read him with caution. protestant history has been studious to reckon him as one of the reformers. both obeyed in this the pronouncement of a public opinion which was above parties and which continued to admire and revere erasmus. to the reconstruction of the catholic church and the erection of the evangelical churches not only the names of luther and loyola are linked. the moderate, the intellectual, the conciliating have also had their share of the work; figures like melanchthon here, sadolet there, both nearly allied to erasmus and sympathetically disposed towards him. the frequently repeated attempts to arrive at some compromise in the great religious conflict, though they might be doomed to end in failure, emanated from the erasmian spirit. nowhere did that spirit take root so easily as in the country that gave erasmus birth. a curious detail shows us that it was not the exclusive privilege of either great party. of his two most favoured pupils of later years, both netherlanders, whom as the actors of the colloquy _astragalismus_ (_the game of knucklebones_), he has immortalized together, the one, quirin talesius, died for his attachment to the spanish cause and the catholic faith: he was hanged in by the citizens of haarlem, where he was a burgomaster. the other, charles utenhove, was sedulous on the side of the revolt and the reformed religion. at ghent, in concert with the prince of orange, he turned against the narrow-minded protestant terrorism of the zealots. a dutch historian recently tried to trace back the opposition of the dutch against the king of spain to the influence of erasmus's political thought in his arraignment of bad princes--wrongly as i think. erasmus's political diatribes were far too academic and too general for that. the desire of resistance and revolt arose from quite other causes. the 'gueux' were not erasmus's progeny. but there is much that is erasmian in the spirit of their great leader, william of orange, whose vision ranged so widely beyond the limitations of religious hatred. thoroughly permeated by the erasmian spirit, too, was that class of municipal magistrates who were soon to take the lead and to set the fashion in the established republic. history is wont, as always with an aristocracy, to take their faults very seriously. after all, perhaps no other aristocracy, unless it be that of venice, has ruled a state so long, so well and with so little violence. if in the seventeenth century the institutions of holland, in the eyes of foreigners, were the admired models of prosperity, charity and social discipline, and patterns of gentleness and wisdom, however defective they may seem to us--then the honour of all this is due to the municipal aristocracy. if in the dutch patriciate of that time those aspirations lived and were translated into action, it was erasmus's spirit of social responsibility which inspired them. the history of holland is far less bloody and cruel than that of any of the surrounding countries. not for naught did erasmus praise as truly dutch those qualities which we might also call truly erasmian: gentleness, kindliness, moderation, a generally diffused moderate erudition. not romantic virtues, if you like; but are they the less salutary? one more instance. in the republic of the seven provinces the atrocious executions of witches and wizards ceased more than a century before they did in all other countries. this was not owing to the merit of the reformed pastors. they shared the popular belief which demanded persecution. it was the magistrates whose enlightenment even as early as the beginning of the seventeenth century no longer tolerated these things. again, we are entitled to say, though erasmus was not one of those who combated this practice: the spirit which breathes from this is that of erasmus. cultured humanity has cause to hold erasmus's memory in esteem, if for no other reason than that he was the fervently sincere preacher of that general kindliness which the world still so urgently needs. selection from the letters of erasmus _this selection from the vast correspondence of erasmus is intended to exhibit him at a few points in his strenuous and rather comfortless life, always overworked, often ill, and perpetually hurried--many of his letters have the postscript 'in haste' or 'i had no time to read this over'--but holding always tenaciously to his aim of steering a middle course; in religion between the corruption and fossilization of the old and the uncompromising violence of the new: in learning between neo-paganism on the one hand and the indolent refusal, under the pretext of piety, to apply critical methods to sacred texts on the other. the first letter has been included because it may provide a clue to his later reluctance to trust his feelings when self-committal to any cause seemed to be required of him, a reluctance not unnaturally interpreted by his enemies as an arrogant refusal to 'yield to any'._ _the notes have been compiled from p. s. and h. m. allen's_ opus epistolarum des. erasmi roterodami, _oxford, - , by the kind permission of the delegates of the clarendon press, and references are to the numbers of the letters in that edition_. i. to servatius roger[ ] [steyn, _c._ ] to his friend servatius, greetings: ... you say there is something which you take very hard, which torments you wretchedly, which in short makes life a misery to you. your looks and your carriage betray this, even if you were silent. where is your wonted and beloved cheerful countenance gone, your former beauty, your lively glance? whence come these sorrowful downcast eyes, whence this perpetual silence, so unlike you, whence the look of a sick man in your expression? assuredly as the poet says, 'the sick body betrays the torments of the lurking soul, likewise its joys: it is to the mind that the face owes its looks, well or ill'.[ ] it is certain then, my servatius, that there is something which troubles you, which is destroying your former good health. but what am i to do now? must i comfort you or scold you? why do you hide your pain from me as if we did not know each other by this time? you are so deep that you do not believe your closest friend, or trust even the most trustworthy; or do you not know that the hidden fire burns stronger?... and for the rest, my servatius, what is it makes you draw in and hide yourself like a snail? i suspect what the matter is: you have not yet convinced yourself that i love you very much. so i entreat you by the things sweetest to you in life, by our great love, if you have any care for your safety, if you want me to live unharmed, not to be at such pains to hide your feelings, but whatever it is, entrust it to my safe ears. i will assist you in whatever way i can with help or counsel. but if i cannot provide either, still it will be sweet to rejoice with you, to weep with you, to live and die with you. farewell, my servatius, and look after your health. ii. to nicholas werner[ ] paris, september [ ] to the religious father nicholas werner, greetings: ... if you are all well there, things are as i wish and hope; i myself am very well, the gods be thanked. i have now made clear by my actions--if it was not clear to anyone before this--how much theology is coming to mean to me. a somewhat arrogant claim; but it ill becomes erasmus to hide anything from his most loving father. lately i had fallen in with certain englishmen, of noble birth, and all of them wealthy. very recently i was approached by a young priest,[ ] very rich, who said he had refused a bishopric offered him, as he knew that he was not well educated; nevertheless he is to be recalled by the king to take a bishopric within a year, although, apart from any bishopric even, he has a yearly income of more than _scudi_. as soon as he heard of my learning he proceeded in unbelievably affectionate fashion to devote himself to me, to frequent and revere me--he lived for a while in my house. he offered _scudi_, if i would teach him for a year; he offered a benefice in a few months' time; he offered to lend me _scudi_, if i should need them to procure the office, until i could pay them back out of the benefice. by this service i could have laid all the english in this city under an obligation to me--they are all of the first families--and through them all england, had i so wished. but i cared nothing for the splendid income and the far more splendid prospects; i cared nothing for their entreaties and the tears which accompanied them. i am telling the truth, exaggerating not at all; the english realize that the money of all england means nothing to me. this refusal, which i still maintain, was not made without due consideration; not for any reward will i let myself be drawn away from theological studies. i did not come here to teach or to pile up gold, but to learn. indeed i shall seek a doctorate in theology, if the gods so will it. the bishop of cambrai is marvellously fond of me: he makes liberal promises; the remittances are not so liberal, to tell the truth. i wish you good health, excellent father. i beg and entreat you to commend me in your prayers to god: i shall do likewise for you. from my library in paris. iii. to robert fisher[ ] london, december [ ] to robert fisher, englishman, abiding in italy, greetings: ... i hesitated not a little to write to you, beloved robert, not that i feared lest so great a sunderance in time and place had worn away anything of your affection towards me, but because you are in a country where even the house-walls are more learned and more eloquent than are our men here, so that what is here reckoned polished, fine and delectable cannot there appear anything but crude, mean and insipid. wherefore your england assuredly expects you to return not merely very learned in the law but also equally eloquent in both the greek and the latin tongues. you would have seen me also there long since, had not my friend mountjoy carried me off to his country when i was already packed for the journey into italy. whither indeed shall i not follow a youth so polite, so kindly, so lovable? i swear i would follow him even into hades. you indeed had most handsomely commended him and, in a word, precisely delineated him; but believe me, he every day surpasses both your commendation and my opinion of him. but you ask how england pleases me. if you have any confidence in me, dear robert, i would have you believe me when i say that i have never yet liked anything so well. i have found here a climate as delightful as it is wholesome; and moreover so much humane learning, not of the outworn, commonplace sort, but the profound, accurate, ancient greek and latin learning, that i now scarcely miss italy, but for the sight of it. when i listen to my friend colet, i seem to hear plato himself. who would not marvel at the perfection of encyclopaedic learning in grocyn?[ ] what could be keener or nobler or nicer than linacre's[ ] judgement? what has nature ever fashioned gentler or sweeter or happier than the character of thomas more? but why should i catalogue the rest? it is marvellous how thick upon the ground the harvest of ancient literature is here everywhere flowering forth: all the more should you hasten your return hither. your friend's affection and remembrance of you is so strong that he speaks of none so often or so gladly. farewell. written in haste in london on the th of december. iv. to james batt[ ] orléans [_c._ december] ... if you care sincerely what becomes of your erasmus, do you act thus: plead my shyness before my lady[ ] in pleasant phrases, as if i had not been able to bring myself to reveal my poverty to her in person. but you must write that i am now in a state of extreme poverty, owing to the great expense of this flight to orléans, as i had to leave people from whom i was making some money. tell her that italy is by far the most suitable place in which to take the degree of doctor, and that it is impossible for a fastidious man to go to italy without a large sum of money; particularly because i am not even at liberty to live meanly, on account of my reputation, such as it is, for learning. you will explain how much greater fame i am likely to bring my lady by my learning than are the other theologians maintained by her. they compose commonplace harangues: i write works destined to live for ever. their ignorant triflings are heard by one or two persons in church: my books will be read by latins, greeks, by every race all over the world. tell her that this kind of unlearned theologian is to be found in hordes everywhere, whereas a man like myself is hardly to be found once in many centuries; unless indeed you are so superstitious that you scruple to employ a few harmless lies to help a friend. then you must point out that she will not be a whit the poorer if, with a few gold pieces, she helps to restore the corrupt text of st. jerome and the true theology, when so much of her wealth is being shamelessly dissipated. after dilating on this with your customary ingenuity and writing at length on my character, my expectations, my affection for my lady and my shyness, you must then add that i have written to say that i need francs in all, and request her to grant me next year's payment now; i am not inventing this, my dear batt; to go to italy with francs, no, less than francs, seems to me a hazardous enterprise, unless i want to enslave myself to someone once more; may i die before i do this. then how little difference it will make to her whether she gives me the money this year or next, and how much it means to me! next urge her to look out for a benefice for me, so that on my return i may have some place where i can pursue learning in peace. do not stop at this, but devise on your own the most convenient method of indicating to her that she should promise me, before all the other candidates, at least a reasonable, if not a splendid, benefice which i can change as soon as a better one appears. i am well aware that there are many candidates for benefices; but you must say that i am the one man, whom, compared with the rest, etc., etc. you know your old way of lying profusely about erasmus.... you will add at the end that i have made the same complaint in my letter which jerome makes more than once in his letters, that study is tearing my eyes out, that things look as if i shall have to follow his example and begin to study with my ears and tongue only; and persuade her, in the most amusing words at your command, to send me some sapphire or other gem wherewith to fortify my eyesight. i would have told you myself which gems have this virtue, but i have not pliny at hand; get the information out of your doctor.... let me tell you what else i want you to attempt still further--to extract a grant from the abbot. you know him--invent some modest and persuasive argument for making this request. tell him that i have a great design in hand--to constitute in its entirety the text of jerome, which has been corrupted, mutilated, and thrown into disorder through the ignorance of the theologians (i have detected many false and spurious pieces among his writings), and to restore the greek.[ ] i shall reveal [in him] an ingenuity and a knowledge of antiquities which no one, i venture to claim, has yet realized. explain that for this undertaking many books are needed, also greek works, so that i may receive a grant. here you will not be lying, batt; i am wholly engaged on this work. farewell, my best and dearest batt, and put all of batt into this business. i mean batt the friend, not batt the slowcoach. v. to antony of bergen[ ] [paris?] [ march? ] to the most illustrious prelate antony, abbot of st. bertin, greetings: ... i have accidentally happened upon some greek books, and am busy day and night secretly copying them out. i shall be asked why i am so delighted with cato the censor's example that i want to turn greek at my age. indeed, most excellent father, if in my boyhood i had been of this mind, or rather if time had not been wanting, i should be the happiest of men. as things are, i think it better to learn, even if a little late, than not to know things which it is of the first importance to have at one's command. i have already tasted of greek literature in the past, but merely (as the saying goes) sipped at it; however, having lately gone a little deeper into it, i perceive--as one has often read in the best authorities--that latin learning, rich as it is, is defective and incomplete without greek; for we have but a few small streams and muddy puddles, while they have pure springs and rivers rolling gold. i see that it is utter madness even to touch the branch of theology which deals chiefly with the mysteries unless one is also provided with the equipment of greek, as the translators of the scriptures, owing to their conscientious scruples, render greek forms in such a fashion that not even the primary sense (what our theologians call the _literal_ sense) can be understood by persons ignorant of greek. who could understand the sentence in the psalm [ps. . ( . )] _et peccatum meum contra me est semper_,[ ] unless he has read the greek? this runs as follows: [greek: kai hê hamartia mou enôpion mou esti diapantos]. at this point some theologian will spin a long story of how the flesh is perpetually in conflict with the spirit, having been misled by the double meaning of the preposition, that is, _contra_, when the word [greek: enôpion] refers not to _conflict_ but to _position_, as if you were to say _opposite_, i.e., _in sight_: so that the prophet's meaning was that his fault was so hateful to him that the memory of it never left him, but floated always before his mind as if it were present. further in a passage elsewhere [ps. ( . )], _bene patientes erunt ut annuncient_, everyone will be misled by the deceptive form, unless he has learned from the greek that, just as according to latin usage we say _bene facere_ of those who _do good to_ someone, so the greeks call [greek: eupathountas] (_bene patientes_) those who _suffer good to be done them_. so that the sense is, 'they will be well treated and will be helped by my benefactions, so that they will make mention of my beneficence towards them'. but why do i pick out a few trifling examples from so many important ones, when i have on my side the venerable authority of the papal curia? there is a curial decree[ ] still extant in the decretals, ordaining that persons should be appointed in the chief academies (as they were then) capable of giving accurate instruction in hebrew, greek, and latin literature, since, as they believed, the scriptures could not be understood, far less discussed, without this knowledge. this most sound and most holy decree we so far neglect that we are perfectly satisfied with the most elementary knowledge of the latin language, being apparently convinced that everything can be extracted from duns scotus, as it were from a cornucopia. for myself i do not fight with men of this sort; each man to his taste, as far as i am concerned; let the old man marry the old woman. it is my delight to set foot on the path into which jerome and the splendid host of so many ancients summon me; so help me god, i would sooner be mad with them than as sane as you like with the mob of modern theologians. besides i am attempting an arduous and, so to say, phaethontean task--to do my best to restore the works of jerome, which have been partly corrupted by those half-learned persons, and are partly--owing to the lack of knowledge of antiquities and of greek literature--forgotten or mangled or mutilated or at least full of mistakes and monstrosities; not merely to restore them but to elucidate them with commentaries, so that each reader will acknowledge to himself that the great jerome, considered by the ecclesiastical world as the most perfect in both branches of learning, the sacred and the profane, can indeed be read by all, but can only be understood by the most learned. as i am working hard on this design and see that i must in the first place acquire greek, i have decided to study for some months under a greek teacher,[ ] a real greek, no, twice a greek, always hungry,[ ] who charges an immoderate fee for his lessons. farewell. vi. to william warham[ ] london, january [ ] to the reverend father in christ, william, archbishop of canterbury, primate of england, many greetings from erasmus of rotterdam, canon of the order of st. augustine: ... having made up my mind, most illustrious prelate, to translate the greek authors and by so doing to revive or, if you will, promote as far as i could theological studies--and god immortal, how miserably they have been corrupted by sophistical nonsensicalities!--i did not wish to give the impression that i was attempting forthwith to learn the potter's art on a winejar[ ] (as the greek adage goes) and rushing in with unwashen feet, as they say, on so vast an undertaking; so i decided to begin by testing how far i had profited by my studies in both languages, and that in a material difficult indeed, but not sacred; so that the difficulty of the undertaking might be useful for practice and at the same time if i made any mistakes these mistakes should involve only the risk of my talent and leave the holy scriptures undamaged. and so i endeavoured to render in latin two tragedies of euripides, the _hecuba_ and the _iphigeneia in aulis_, in the hope that perchance some god might favour so bold a venture with fair breezes. then, seeing that a specimen of the work begun found favour with persons excellently well versed in both tongues (assuredly england by now possesses several of these, if i may acknowledge the truth without envy, men deserving of the admiration even of all italy in any branch of learning), i brought the work to a finish, with the good help of the muses, within a few short months. at what a cost in exertion, those will best feel who enter the same lists. why so? because the mere task of putting real greek into real latin is such that it requires an extraordinary artist, and not only a man with a rich store of scholarship in both languages at his fingertips, but one exceedingly alert and observant; so that for several centuries now none has appeared whose efforts in this field were unanimously approved by scholars. it is surely easy then to conjecture what a heavy task it has proved to render verse in verse, particularly verse so varied and unfamiliar, and to do this from a writer not merely so remote in time, and withal a tragedian, but also marvellously concise, taut and unadorned, in whom there is nothing otiose, nothing which it would not be a crime to alter or remove; and besides, one who treats rhetorical topics so frequently and so acutely that he appears to be everywhere declaiming. add to all this the choruses, which through i know not what striving after effect are so obscure that they need not so much a translator as an oedipus or priest of apollo to interpret them. in addition there is the corrupt state of the manuscripts, the dearth of copies, the absence of any translators to whom one can have recourse. so i am not so much surprised that even in this most prolific age none of the italians has ventured to attempt the task of translating any tragedy or comedy, whereas many have set their hand to homer (among these even politian[ ] failed to satisfy himself); one man[ ] has essayed hesiod, and that without much success; another[ ] has attempted theocritus, but with even far more unfortunate results: and finally francesco filelfo has translated the first scene of the hecuba in one of his funeral orations.[ ] (i first learned this after i had begun my version), but in such a way that, great as he is, his work gave me courage enough to proceed, overprecise as i am in other respects. then for me the lure of this poet's more than honeyed eloquence, which even his enemies allow him, proved stronger than the deterrent of these great examples and the many difficulties of the work, so that i have been bold to attack a task never before attempted, in the hope that, even if i failed, my honest readers would consider even this poor effort of mine not altogether unpraiseworthy, and the more grudging would at least be lenient to an inexperienced translator of a work so difficult: in particular because i have deliberately added no light burden to my other difficulties through my conscientiousness as a translator, in attempting so far as possible to reproduce the shape and as it were contours of the greek verse, by striving to render line for line and almost word for word, and everywhere seeking with the utmost fidelity to convey to latin ears the force and value of the sentence: whether it be that i do not altogether approve of the freedom in translation which cicero allows others and practised himself (i would almost say to an immoderate degree), or that as an inexperienced translator i preferred to err on the side of seeming over-scrupulous rather than over-free--hesitating on the sandy shore instead of wrecking my ship and swimming in the midst of the billows; and i preferred to run the risk of letting scholars complain of lack of brilliance and poetic beauty in my work rather than of lack of fidelity to the original. finally i did not want to set myself up as a paraphraser, thus securing myself that retreat which many use to cloak their ignorance, wrapping themselves like the cuttle-fish in darkness of their own making to avoid detection. now, if readers do not find here the grandiloquence of latin tragedy, 'the bombast and the words half a yard long,' as horace calls it, they must not blame me if in performing my function of translator i have preferred to reproduce the concise simplicity and elegance of my original, and not the bombast to which he is a stranger, and which i do not greatly admire at any time. furthermore, i am encouraged to hope with all certainty that these labours of mine will be most excellently protected against the calumnies of the unjust, as their publication will be most welcome to the honest and just, if you, most excellent father, have voted them your approval. for me it was not difficult to select you from the great host of illustrious and distinguished men to be the recipient of this product of my vigils, as the one man i have observed to be--aside from the brilliance of your fortune--so endowed, adorned and showered with learning, eloquence, good sense, piety, modesty, integrity, and lastly with an extraordinary liberality towards those who cultivate good letters, that the word primate suits none better than yourself, who hold the first place not solely by reason of your official dignity, but far more because of all your virtues, while at the same time you are the principal ornament of the court and the sole head of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. if i have the fortune to win for this my work the commendation of a man so highly commended i shall assuredly not repent of the exertions i have so far expended, and will be forward to promote theological studies with even more zeal for the future. farewell, and enrol erasmus in the number of those who are wholeheartedly devoted to your fathership. [illustration: xxvii. portrait medal of erasmus at the age of on the reverse his device and motto] [illustration: xxviii. erasmus at the age of about ] vii. to aldus manutius[ ] bologna, october [ ] to aldus manutius of rome, many greetings: ... i have often wished, most learned manutius, that the light you have cast on greek and latin literature, not by your printing alone and your splendid types, but by your brilliance and your uncommon learning, could have been matched by the profit you in your turn drew from them. so far as _fame_ is concerned, the name of aldus manutius will without doubt be on the lips of all devotees of sacred literature unto all posterity; and your memory will be--as your fame now is--not merely illustrious but loved and cherished as well, because you are engaged, as i hear, in reviving and disseminating the good authors--with extreme diligence but not at a commensurate profit--undergoing truly herculean labours, labours splendid indeed and destined to bring you immortal glory, but meanwhile more profitable to others than to yourself. i hear that you are printing plato[ ] in greek types; very many scholars eagerly await the book. i should like to know what medical authors you have printed; i wish you would give us paul of aegina.[ ] i wonder what has prevented you from publishing the new testament[ ] long since--a work which would delight even the common people (if i conjecture aright) but particularly my own class, the theologians. i send you two tragedies[ ] which i have been bold enough to translate, whether with success you yourself shall judge. thomas linacre, william grocyn, william latimer, cuthbert tunstall, friends of yours as well as of mine, thought highly of them; you know yourself that they are too learned to be deceived in their judgement, and too sincere to want to flatter a friend--unless their affection for me has somewhat blinded them; the italians to whom i have so far shown my attempt do not condemn it. it has been printed by badius, successfully as far as he is concerned, so he writes, for he has now sold all the copies to his satisfaction. but my reputation has not been enhanced thereby, so full is it all of mistakes, and in fact he offers his services to repair the first edition by printing a second. but i am afraid of his mending ill with ill, as the sophoclean saying goes. i should consider my labours to have been immortalized if they could come out printed in your types, particularly the smaller types, the most beautiful of all. this will result in the volume being very small and the business being concluded at little expense. if you think it convenient to undertake the affair, i will supply you with a corrected copy, which i send by the bearer, _gratis_, except that you may wish to send me a few volumes as gifts for my friends. i should not have hesitated to attempt the publication at my own risk and expense, were it not that i have to leave italy within a few months: so i should much like to have the business concluded as soon as possible; in fact it is hardly ten days' work. if you insist on my taking a hundred or two hundred volumes, though the god of gain does not usually favour me and it will be most inconvenient to transport the package, i shall not refuse, if only you fix a horse as the price. farewell, most learned aldus, and reckon erasmus as one of your well-wishers. if you have any rare authors in your press, i shall be obliged if you will indicate this--my learned british friends have asked me to search for them. if you decide not to print the _tragedies_, will you return the copy to the bearer to bring back to me? viii. to thomas more[ ] [paris?] june [ ] to his friend thomas more, greetings: ... in days gone by, on my journey back from italy into england, in order not to waste all the time that must needs be spent on horseback in dull and unlettered gossiping, i preferred at times either to turn over in my mind some topic of our common studies or to give myself over to the pleasing recollection of the friends, as learned as they are beloved, whom i had left behind me in england. you were among the very first of these to spring to mind, my dear more; indeed i used to enjoy the memory of you in absence even as i was wont to delight in your present company, than which i swear i never in my life met anything sweeter. therefore, since i thought that i must at all hazards do _something_, and that time seemed ill suited to serious meditation, i determined to amuse myself with the _praise of folly_. you will ask what goddess put this into my mind. in the first place it was your family name of more, which comes as near to the word _moria_ [folly] as you yourself are far from the reality--everyone agrees that you are far removed from it. next i suspected that you above all would approve this _jeu d'esprit_ of mine, in that you yourself do greatly delight in jests of this kind, that is, jests learned (if i mistake not) and at no time insipid, and altogether like to play in some sort the democritus[ ] in the life of society. although you indeed, owing to your incredibly sweet and easy-going character, are both able and glad to be all things to all men, even as your singularly penetrating intellect causes you to dissent widely from the opinions of the herd. so you will not only gladly accept this little declamation as a memento of your comrade, but will also take it under your protection, inasmuch as it is dedicated to you and is now no longer mine but yours. and indeed there will perhaps be no lack of brawlers to represent that trifles are more frivolous than becomes a theologian, or more mordant than suits with christian modesty, and they will be crying out that i am reviving the old comedy or lucian and assailing everything with biting satire. but i would have those who are offended by the levity and sportiveness of my theme reflect that it was not i that began this, but that the same was practised by great writers in former times; seeing that so many centuries ago homer made his trifle _the battle of frogs and mice_, virgil his _gnat_ and _dish of herbs_ and ovid his _nut_; seeing that busiris was praised by polycrates and his critic isocrates, injustice by glaucon, thersites and the quartan fever by favorinus, baldness by synesius, the fly and the art of being a parasite by lucian; and that seneca devised the apotheosis of the emperor claudius, plutarch the dialogue of gryllus and ulysses, lucian and apuleius the ass, and someone unknown the testament of grunnius corocotta the piglet, mentioned even by st. jerome. so, if they will, let my detractors imagine that i have played an occasional game of draughts for a pastime or, if they prefer, taken a ride on a hobby-horse. how unfair it is truly, when we grant every calling in life its amusements, not to allow the profession of learning any amusement at all, particularly if triflings bring serious thoughts in their train and frivolous matters are so treated that a reader not altogether devoid of perception wins more profit from these than from the glittering and portentous arguments of certain persons--as when for instance one man eulogizes rhetoric or philosophy in a painfully stitched-together oration, another rehearses the praises of some prince, another urges us to begin a war with the turks, another foretells the future, and another proposes a new method of splitting hairs. just as there is nothing so trifling as to treat serious matters triflingly, so there is nothing so delightful as to treat trifling matters in such fashion that it appears that you have been doing anything but trifle. as to me, the judgement is in other hands--and yet, unless i am altogether misled by self-love, i have sung the praise of folly and that not altogether foolishly. and now to reply to the charge of mordacity. it has ever been the privilege of wits to satirize the life of society with impunity, provided that licence does not degenerate into frenzy. wherefore the more do i marvel at the fastidiousness of men's ears in these times, who by now can scarce endure anything but solemn appellations. further, we see some men so perversely religious that they will suffer the most hideous revilings against christ sooner than let prince or pope be sullied by the lightest jest, particularly if this concerns monetary gain. but if a man censures men's lives without reproving anyone at all by name, pray do you think this man a satirist, and not rather a teacher and admonisher? else on how many counts do i censure myself? moreover he who leaves no class of men unmentioned is clearly foe to no man but to all vices. therefore anyone who rises up and cries out that he is insulted will be revealing a bad conscience, or at all events fear. st. jerome wrote satire in this kind far more free and biting, not always abstaining from the mention of names, whereas i myself, apart from not mentioning anyone by name, have moreover so tempered my pen that the sagacious reader will easily understand that my aim has been to give pleasure, not pain; for i have at no point followed juvenal's example in 'stirring up the murky bilge of crime', and i have sought to survey the laughable, not the disgusting. if there is anyone whom even this cannot appease, at least let him remember that it is a fine thing to be reviled by folly; in bringing her upon the stage i had to suit the words to the character. but why need i say all this to you, an advocate so remarkable that you can defend excellently even causes far from excellent? farewell, most eloquent more, and be diligent in defending your _moria_. ix. to john colet[ ] cambridge, october [ ] to his friend colet, greetings: ... something came into my mind which i know will make you laugh. in the presence of several masters [of arts] i was putting forward a view on the assistant teacher, when one of them, a man of some repute, smiled and said: 'who could bear to spend his life in that school among boys, when he could live anywhere in any way he liked?' i answered mildly that it seemed to me a very honourable task to train young people in manners and literature, that christ himself did not despise the young, that no age had a better right to help, and that from no quarter was a richer return to be expected, seeing that young people were the harvest-field and raw material of the nation. i added that all truly religious people felt that they could not better serve god in any other duty than the bringing of children to christ. he wrinkled his nose and said with a scornful gesture: 'if any man wishes to serve christ altogether, let him go into a monastery and enter a religious order.' i answered that st. paul said that true religion consisted in the offices of charity--charity consisting in doing our best to help our neighbours. this he rejected as an ignorant remark. 'look,' said he, 'we have forsaken everything: in this is perfection.' 'that man has not forsaken everything,' said i, 'who, when he could help very many by his labours, refuses to undertake a duty because it is regarded as humble.' and with that, to prevent a quarrel arising, i let the man go. there you have the dialogue. you see the scotist philosophy! once again, farewell. x. to servatius roger hammes castle [near calais], july to the reverend father servatius, many greetings: ... most humane father, your letter has at last reached me, after passing through many hands, when i had already left england, and it has afforded me unbelievable delight, as it still breathes your old affection for me. however, i shall answer briefly, as i am writing just after the journey, and shall reply in particular on those matters which are, as you write, strictly to the point. men's thoughts are so varied, 'to each his own bird-song', that it is impossible to satisfy everyone. my own feelings are that i want to follow what is best to do, god is my witness. those feelings which i had in my youth have been corrected partly by age, partly by experience of the world. i have never intended to change my mode of life or my habit--not that i liked them, but to avoid scandal. you are aware that i was not so much led as driven to this mode of life by the obstinate determination of my guardians and the wrongful urgings of others, and that afterwards, when i realized that this kind of life was quite unsuited to me (for not all things suit all men), i was held back by cornelius of woerden's reproaches and by a certain boyish sense of shame. i was never able to endure fasting, through some peculiarity of my constitution. once roused from sleep i could never fall asleep again for several hours. i was so drawn towards literature, which is not practised in the monastery, that i do not doubt that if i had chanced on some free mode of life i could have been numbered not merely among the happy but even among the good. so, when i realized that i was by no means fit for this mode of life, that i had taken it up under compulsion and not of my own free will, nevertheless, as public opinion in these days regards it as a crime to break away from a mode of life once taken up, i had resolved to endure with fortitude this part of my unhappiness also--you know that i am in many things unfortunate. but i have always regarded this one thing as harder than all the rest, that i had been forced into a mode of life for which i was totally unfit both in body and in mind: in mind, because i abhorred ritual and loved liberty; in body, because even had i been perfectly satisfied with the life, my constitution could not endure such labours. one may object that i had a year of probation, as it is called, and that i was of ripe age. ridiculous! as if anyone could expect a boy of sixteen, particularly one with a literary training, to know himself (an achievement even for an old man), or to have succeeded in learning in a single year what many do not yet understand in their grey hairs. though i myself never liked the life, still less after i had tried it, but was trapped in the way i have mentioned; although i confess that the truly good man will live a good life in any calling. and i do not deny that i was prone to grievous vices, but not of so utterly corrupt a nature that i could not have come to some good, had i found a kindly guide, a true christian, not one given to jewish scruples. meanwhile i looked about to find in what kind of life i could be least bad, and i believe indeed that i have attained this. i have spent my life meantime among sober men, in literary studies, which have kept me off many vices. i have been able to associate with true followers of christ, whose conversation has made me a better man. i do not now boast of my books, which you at steyn perhaps despise. but many confess that they have become not merely more knowledgeable, but even better men through reading them. passion for money has never affected me. i am quite untouched by the thirst for fame. i have never been a slave to pleasures, although i was formerly inclined to them. over-indulgence and drunkenness i have ever loathed and avoided. but whenever i thought of returning to your society, i remembered the jealousy of many, the contempt of all, the conversations how dull, how foolish, how un-christlike, the feasts how unclerical! in short the whole way of life, from which if you remove the ritual, i do not see what remains that one could desire. lastly i remembered my frail constitution, now weakened by age, disease and hard work, as a result of which i should fail to satisfy you and kill myself. for several years now i have been subject to the stone, a severe and deadly illness, and for several years i have drunk nothing but wine, and not all kinds of wine at that, owing to my disease; i cannot endure all kinds of food nor indeed all climates. the illness is very liable to recur and demands a very careful regimen; and i know the climate in holland and your style of living, not to mention your ways. so, had i come back to you, all i would have achieved would have been to bring trouble on you and death on myself. but perhaps you think it a great part of happiness to die amid one's fellow-brethren? this belief deceives and imposes not on you alone but on nearly everyone. we make christian piety depend on place, dress, style of living and on certain little rituals. we think a man lost who changes his white dress for black, or his cowl for a cap, or occasionally moves from place to place. i should dare to say that christian piety has suffered great damage from these so-called religious practices, although it may be that their first introduction was due to pious zeal. they then gradually increased and divided into thousands of distinctions; this was helped by a papal authority which was too lax and easy-going in many cases. what more defiled or more impious than these lax rituals? and if you turn to those that are commended, no, to the most highly commended, apart from some dreary jewish rituals, i know not what image of christ one finds in them. it is these on which they preen themselves, these by which they judge and condemn others. how much more in conformity with the spirit of christ to consider the whole christian world one home and as it were one monastery, to regard all men as one's fellow-monks and fellow-brethren, to hold the sacrament of baptism as the supreme rite, and not to consider where one lives but how well one lives! you want me to settle on a permanent abode, a course which my very age also suggests. but the travellings of solon, pythagoras and plato are praised; and the apostles, too, were wanderers, in particular paul. st. jerome also was a monk now in rome, now in syria, now in antioch, now here, now there, and even in his old age pursued literary studies. but i am not to be compared with st. jerome--i agree; yet i have never moved unless forced by the plague or for reasons of study or health, and wherever i have lived (i shall say this of myself, arrogantly perhaps, but truthfully) i have been commended by the most highly commended and praised by the most praised. there is no land, neither spain nor italy nor germany nor france nor england nor scotland, which does not summon me to partake of its hospitality. and if i am not liked by all (which is not my aim), at all events i am liked in the highest places of all. at rome there was no cardinal who did not welcome me like a brother; in particular the cardinal of st. george,[ ] the cardinal of bologna,[ ] cardinal grimani, the cardinal of nantes,[ ] and the present pope,[ ] not to mention bishops, archdeacons and men of learning. and this honour was not a tribute to wealth, which even now i neither possess nor desire; nor to ambition, a failing to which i have ever been a stranger; but solely to learning, which our countrymen ridicule, while the italians worship it. in england there is no bishop who is not glad to be greeted by me, who does not desire my company, who does not want me in his home. the king himself, a little before his father's death, when i was in italy, wrote a most affectionate letter to me with his own hand, and now too speaks often of me in the most honourable and affectionate terms; and whenever i greet him he welcomes me most courteously and looks at me in a most friendly fashion, making it plain that his feelings for me are as friendly as his speeches. and he has often commissioned his almoner[ ] to find a benefice for me. the queen sought to take me as her tutor. everyone knows that, if i were prepared to live even a few months at court, he would heap on me as many benefices as i cared for; but i put my leisure and my learned labours before everything. the archbishop of canterbury, the primate of all england and chancellor of the realm, a good and learned man, could not treat me with more affection were i his father or brother. and that you may understand that he is sincere in this, he gave me a living of nearly nobles, which afterwards at my wish he changed into a pension of crowns on my resignation; in addition he has given me more than nobles during the last few years, although i never asked for anything. he gave me nobles in one day. i received more than nobles from other bishops in freely offered gifts. mountjoy, a baron of the realm, formerly my pupil, gives me annually a pension of crowns. the king and the bishop of lincoln, who has great influence through the king, make many splendid promises. there are two universities in england, oxford and cambridge, and both of them want me; at cambridge i taught greek and sacred literature for several months, for nothing, and have resolved always to do this. there are colleges here so religious, and of such modesty in living, that you would spurn any other religious life, could you see them. in london there is john colet, dean of st. paul's, who has combined great learning with a marvellous piety, a man greatly respected by all. he is so fond of me, as all know, that he prefers my company above all others'; i do not mention many others, lest i doubly vex you with my loquacity as well as my boasting. now to say something of my works--i think you have read the _enchiridion_,[ ] through which not a few confess themselves inspired to the study of piety; i make no claim for myself, but give thanks to christ for any good which has come to pass through me by his giving. i do not know whether you have seen the _adagia_,[ ] printed by aldus. it is not a theological work, but most useful for every branch of learning; at least it cost me countless labours and sleepless nights. i have published a work _de rerum verborumque copia_,[ ] dedicated to my friend colet, very useful for those who desire to speak in public; but all these are despised by those who despise all good learning. during the last two years, apart from much else, i have emended the _letters_ of st. jerome, obelizing what was false and spurious and explaining the obscure passages with notes. i have corrected the whole of the new testament from collations of the greek and ancient manuscripts, and have annotated more than a thousand passages, not without some benefit to theologians. i have begun commentaries on the _epistles_ of st. paul, which i shall complete when i have published these. for i have resolved to live and die in the study of the scriptures. i make these my work and my leisure. men of consequence say that i can do what others cannot in this field; in your mode of life i shall be able to do nothing. although i have been intimate with so many grave and learned men, here and in italy and france, i have not yet found anyone who advised me to return to you or thought this the better course. nay, even nicholas werner of blessed memory, your predecessor, would always dissuade me from this, advising me to attach myself rather to some bishop; he would add that he knew my mind and his little brothers' ways: those were the words he used, in the vernacular. in the life i live now i see what i should avoid, but do not see what would be a better course. it now remains to satisfy you on the question of my dress. i have always up to now worn the canon's dress, and when i was at louvain i obtained permission from the bishop of utrecht to wear a linen scapular instead of a complete linen garment, and a black capuce instead of a black cloak, after the parisian custom. but on my journey to italy, seeing the monks all along the way wearing a black garment with a scapular, i there took to wearing black, with a scapular, to avoid giving offence by any unusual dress. afterwards the plague broke out at bologna, and there those who nurse the sick of the plague customarily wear a white linen cloth depending from the shoulder--these avoid contact with people. consequently when one day i went to call on a learned friend some rascals drew their swords and were preparing to set about me, and would have done so, had not a certain matron warned them that i was an ecclesiastic. again the next day, when i was on my way to visit the treasurer's sons, they rushed at me with bludgeons from all directions and attacked me with horrible cries. so on the advice of good men i concealed my scapular, and obtained a dispensation from pope julius ii allowing me to wear the religious dress or not, as seemed good, provided that i wore clerical garb; and in this document he condoned any previous offences in the matter. in italy i continued to wear clerical garb, lest the change cause offence to anyone. on my return to england i decided to wear my usual dress, and i invited to my lodging a friend of excellent repute for his learning and mode of life and showed him the dress i had decided to wear; i asked him whether this was suitable in england. he approved, so i appeared in public in this dress. i was at once warned by other friends that this dress could not be tolerated in england, that i had better conceal it. i did so; and as it cannot be concealed without causing scandal if it is eventually discovered, i stored it away in a box, and up to now have taken advantage of the papal dispensation received formerly. ecclesiastical law excommunicates anyone who casts off the religious habit so as to move more freely in secular society. i put it off under compulsion in italy, to escape being killed; and likewise under compulsion in england, because it was not tolerated there, although myself i should much prefer to have worn it. to adopt it again now would cause more scandal than did the change itself. there you have an account of my whole life, there you have my plans. i should like to change even this present mode of life, if i see a better. but i do not see what i am to do in holland. i know that the climate and way of living will not agree with me; i shall have everyone looking at me. i shall return a white-haired old man, having gone away as a youth--i shall return a valetudinarian; i shall be exposed to the contempt of the lowest, used as i am to the respect of the highest. i shall exchange my studies for drinking-parties. as to your promising me your help in finding me a place where i can live with an excellent income, as you write, i cannot conjecture what this can be, unless perhaps you intend to place me among some community of nuns, to serve women--i who have never been willing to serve kings nor archbishops. i want no pay; i have no desire for riches, if only i have money enough to provide for my health and my literary leisure, to enable me to live without burdening anyone. i wish we could discuss these things together face to face; it cannot be done in a letter conveniently or safely. your letter, although it was sent by most reliable persons, went so far astray that if i had not accidentally come to this castle i should never have seen it; and many people had looked at it before i received it. so do not mention anything secret unless you know for certain where i am and have a very trustworthy messenger. i am now on my way to germany, that is, basle, to have my works published, and this winter i shall perhaps be in rome. on my return journey i shall see to it that we meet and talk somewhere. but now the summer is nearly over and it is a long journey. farewell, once my sweetest comrade, now my esteemed father. xi. to wolfgang fabricius capito[ ] antwerp, february / to the distinguished theologian wolfgang fabricius capito of hagenau, skilled in the three languages, greetings: ... now that i see that the mightiest princes of the earth, king francis of france, charles the catholic king, king henry of england and the emperor maximilian have drastically cut down all warlike preparations and concluded a firm and, i hope, unbreakable treaty of peace, i feel entitled to hope with confidence that not only the moral virtues and christian piety but also the true learning, purified of corruption, and the fine disciplines will revive and blossom forth; particularly as this aim is being prosecuted with equal zeal in different parts of the world, in rome by pope leo, in spain by the cardinal of toledo,[ ] in england by king henry viii, himself no mean scholar, here by king charles, a young man admirably gifted, in france by king francis, a man as it were born for this task, who besides offers splendid rewards to attract and entice men distinguished for virtue and learning from all parts, in germany by many excellent princes and bishops and above all by the emperor maximilian, who, wearied in his old age of all these wars, has resolved to find rest in the arts of peace: a resolve at once more becoming to himself at his age and more fortunate for christendom. it is to these men's piety then that we owe it that all over the world, as if on a given signal, splendid talents are stirring and awakening and conspiring together to revive the best learning. for what else is this but a conspiracy, when all these great scholars from different lands share out the work among themselves and set about this noble task, not merely with enthusiasm but with a fair measure of success, so that we have an almost certain prospect of seeing all disciplines emerge once more into the light of day in a far purer and more genuine form? in the first place polite letters, for long reduced almost to extinction, are being taken up and cultivated by the scots, the danes and the irish. as for medicine, how many champions has she found! nicholas leonicenus[ ] in rome, ambrose leo of nola[ ] at venice, william cop[ ] and john ruell[ ] in france, and thomas linacre in england. roman law is being revived in paris by william budaeus[ ] and in germany by ulrich zasius,[ ] mathematics at basle by henry glareanus.[ ] in theology there was more to do, for up till now its professors have almost always been men with an ingrained loathing for good learning, men who conceal their ignorance the more successfully as they do this on what they call a religious pretext, so that the ignorant herd is persuaded by them to believe it a violation of religion if anyone proceeds to attack their barbarism; for they prefer to wail for help to the uneducated mob and incite it to stone-throwing if they see any danger of their ignorance on any point coming to light. but i am confident that here, too, all will go well as soon as the knowledge of the three languages [greek, latin and hebrew] becomes accepted publicly in the schools, as it has begun to be.... the humblest share in this work has fallen on me, as is fitting; i know not whether i have contributed anything of value; at all events i have infuriated those who do not want the world to come to its senses, so that it seems as if my poor efforts also have not been ineffective: although i have not undertaken the work in the belief that, i could teach anything magnificent, but i wanted to open a road for others, destined to attempt greater things, that they might with greater ease ascend the shining heights without running into so many rough and quaggy places. yet this humble diligence of mine is not disdained by the honest and learned, and none complain of it but a few so stupid that they are hissed off the stage by even ordinary persons of any intelligence. here not long ago someone complained tearfully before the people, in a sermon of course, that it was all over with the scriptures and the theologians who had hitherto upheld the christian faith on their shoulders, now that men had arisen to emend the holy gospel and the very words of our lord: just as if i was rebuking matthew or luke instead of those whose ignorance or negligence had corrupted what they wrote correctly. in england one or two persons complain loudly that it is a shameful thing that _i_ should dare to teach a great man like st. jerome: as if i had changed what st. jerome wrote, instead of restoring it! yet those who snarl out suchlike dirges, which any laundryman with a little sense would scoff at, think themselves great theologians ... not that i want the kind of theology which is customary in the schools nowadays consigned to oblivion; i wish it to be rendered more trustworthy and more correct by the accession of the old, true learning. it will not weaken the authority of the scriptures or theologians if certain passages hitherto considered corrupt are henceforth read in an emended form, or if passages are more correctly understood on which up till now the mass of theologians have entertained delusions: no, it will give greater weight to their authority, the more genuine their understanding of the scriptures. i have sustained the shock of the first meeting, which terence calls the sharpest.... one doubt still troubles me; i fear that under cover of the rebirth of ancient learning paganism may seek to rear its head, as even among christians there are those who acknowledge christ in name only, but in their hearts are gentiles; or that with the renascence of hebrew studies judaism may seek to use this opportunity of revival; and there can be nothing more contrary or more hostile to the teaching of christ than this plague. this is the nature of human affairs--nothing good has ever so flourished but some evil has attempted to use it as a pretext for insinuating itself. i could wish that those dreary quibblings could be either done away with or at least cease to be the sole activity of theologians, and that the simplicity and purity of christ could penetrate deeply into the minds of men; and this i think can best be brought to pass if with the help provided by the three languages we exercise our minds in the actual sources. but i pray that we may avoid this evil without falling into another perhaps graver error. recently several pamphlets have been published reeking of unadulterated judaism. xii. to thomas more louvain, march to his friend more, greeting: ... first of all i ask you to entrust to the bearer, my servant john, any letters of mine or yours which you consider fit for publication with the alteration of some passages; i am simply compelled to publish my letters whether i like it or not. send off the lad so that he returns here as quickly as possible. if you discover that urswick is ill-disposed towards me perhaps he should not be troubled; otherwise, help me in the matter of a horse--i shall need one just now when i am about to go to basle or venice, chiefly for the purpose of bringing out the new testament.[ ] such is my fate, dear more. i shall enact this part of my play also. afterwards, i almost feel inclined to sing 'for myself and the muses'; my age and my health, which grows daily worse, almost require this. over here scoundrels in disguise are so all-powerful, and no one here makes money but innkeepers, advocates, and begging friars. it is unendurable when many speak ill and none do good. at basle they make the elegant preface added by budaeus the excuse for the delay over your utopia. they have now received it and have started on the work. then froben's father-in-law lachner died. but froben's press will be sweating over our studies none the less. i have not yet had a chance of seeing linacre's _therapeutice_,[ ] through some conspiracy of the parisians against me. inquire courteously of lupset on the appendix[ ] to my _copia_ and send it. the pope and the princes are up to some new tricks on the pretext of the savagery of the war against the turks. wretched turks! may we christians not be too cruel! even wives are affected. all married men between the ages of twenty-six and fifty will be compelled to take up arms. meanwhile the pope forbids the wives of men absent at the war to indulge in pleasure at home; they are to eschew elegant apparel, must not wear silk, gold or any jewellery, must not touch rouge or drink wine, and must fast every other day, that god may favour their husbands engaged in this cruel war. if there are men tied at home by necessary business, their wives must none the less observe the same rules as they would have had to observe if their husbands had gone to the war. they are to sleep in the same room but in different beds; and not a kiss is to be given meanwhile until this terrible war reaches a successful conclusion under christ's favour. i know that these enactments will irritate wives who do not sufficiently ponder the importance of the business; though i know that your wife, sensible as she is, and obedient in regard to a matter of christian observance, will even be glad to obey. i send pace's pamphlet, the _conclusions on papal indulgences_,[ ] and the _proposal for undertaking a war against the turks_,[ ] as i suspect that they have not yet reached england. they write from cologne that some pamphlet about an argument between julius and peter at the gates of paradise[ ] has now been printed; they do not add the author's name. the german presses will not cease from their mad pranks until their rashness is restrained by some law; this does me much harm, who am endeavouring to help the world.... i beg you to let my servant sleep one or two nights with yours, to prevent his chancing on an infected house, and to afford him anything he may need, although i have supplied him with travelling money myself. i have at last seen the _utopia_ at paris printed, but with many misprints. it is now in the press at basle; i had threatened to break with them unless they took more trouble with that business than with mine. farewell, most sincere of friends. xiii. to beatus rhenanus[ ] louvain [_c._ october] to his friend rhenanus, greetings: ... let me describe to you, my dear beatus, the whole tragi-comedy of my journey. i was still weak and listless, as you know, when i left basle, not having come to terms with the climate, after skulking at home so long, and occupied in uninterrupted labors at that. the river voyage was not unpleasant, but that around midday the heat of the sun was somewhat trying. we had a meal at breisach, the most unpleasant meal i have ever had. the smell of food nearly finished me, and then the flies, worse than the smell. we sat at table doing nothing for more than half an hour, waiting for them to produce their banquet, if you please. in the end nothing fit to eat was served; filthy porridge with lumps in it and salt fish reheated not for the first time, enough to make one sick. i did not call on gallinarius. the man who brought word that he was suffering from a slight fever also told me a pretty story; that minorite theologian with whom i had disputed about _heceitas_[ ] had taken it on himself to pawn the church chalices. scotist ingenuity! just before nightfall we were put out at a dull village; i did not feel like discovering its name, and if i knew i should not care to tell you it. i nearly perished there. we had supper in a small room like a sweating-chamber, more than sixty of us, i should say, an indiscriminate collection of rapscallions, and this went on till nearly ten o'clock; oh, the stench, and the noise, particularly after they had become intoxicated! yet we had to remain sitting to suit their clocks. in the morning while it was still quite dark we were driven from bed by the shouting of the sailors. i went on board without having either supped or slept. we reached strasbourg before lunch, at about nine o'clock; there we had a more comfortable reception, particularly as schürer produced some wine. some of the society[ ] were there, and afterwards they all came to greet me, gerbel outdoing all the rest in politeness. gebwiler and rudolfingen did not want me to pay, no new thing with them. thence we proceeded on horseback as far as speyer; we saw no sign of soldiers anywhere, although there had been alarming rumours. the english horse completely collapsed and hardly got to speyer; that criminal smith had handled him so badly that he ought to have both his ears branded with red-hot iron. at speyer i slipped away from the inn and took myself to my neighbour maternus. there decanus, a learned and cultivated man, entertained me courteously and agreeably for two days. here i accidentally found hermann busch. from speyer i travelled by carriage to worms, and from there again to mainz. there was an imperial secretary, ulrich varnbüler,[ ] travelling by chance in the same carriage. he devoted himself to me with incredible assiduity over the whole journey, and at mainz would not allow me to go into the inn but took me to the house of a canon; on my departure he accompanied me to the boat. the voyage was not unpleasant as the weather was fine, excepting that the crew took care to make it somewhat long; in addition to this the stench of the horses incommoded me. for the first day john langenfeld, who formerly taught at louvain, and a lawyer friend of his came with me as a mark of politeness. there was also a westphalian, john, a canon at st. victor's outside mainz, a most agreeable and entertaining man. after arriving at boppard, as i was taking a walk along the bank while a boat was being procured, someone recognized me and betrayed me to the customs officer, 'that is the man.' the customs officer's name is, if i mistake not, christopher cinicampius, in the common speech eschenfelder. you would not believe how the man jumped for joy. he dragged me into his house. books by erasmus were lying on a small table amongst the customs agreements. he exclaimed at his good fortune and called in his wife and children and all his friends. meanwhile he sent out to the sailors who were calling for me two tankards of wine, and another two when they called out again, promising that when he came back he would remit the toll to the man who had brought him a man like myself. from boppard john flaminius, chaplain to the nuns there, a man of angelic purity, of sane and sober judgement and no common learning, accompanied me as far as coblenz. at coblenz matthias, chancellor to the bishop, swept us off to his house--he is a young man but of staid manners, and has an accurate knowledge of latin, besides being a skilled lawyer. there we supped merrily. at bonn the canon left us, to avoid cologne: i wanted to avoid cologne myself, but the servant had preceded me thither with the horses, and there was no reliable person in the boat whom i could have charged with the business of calling back my servant; i did not trust the sailors. so we docked at cologne before six o'clock in the morning on a sunday, the weather being by now pestilential. i went into an inn and gave orders to the ostlers to hire me a carriage and pair, ordering a meal to be made ready by ten o'clock. i attended divine service, the lunch was delayed. i had no luck with the carriage and pair. i tried to hire a horse; my own were useless. everything failed. i realized what was up; they were trying to make me stop there. i immediately ordered my horses to be harnessed, and one bag to be loaded; the other bag i entrusted to the innkeeper, and on my lame horse rode quickly to the count of neuenahr's[ ]--a five-hour journey. he was staying at bedburg. with the count i stayed five days very pleasantly, in such peace and quiet that while staying with him i completed a good part of the revision--i had taken that part of the new testament with me. would that you knew him, my dear beatus! he is a young man but of rare good sense, more than you would find in an old man; he speaks little, but as homer says of menelaus, he speaks 'in clear tones,' and intelligently too; he is learned without pretentiousness in more than one branch of study, wholly sincere and a good friend. by now i was strong and lusty, and well pleased with myself, and was hoping to be in a good state when i visited the bishop of liége and to return hale and hearty to my friends in brabant. what dinner-parties, what felicitations, what discussions i promised myself! but ah, deceptive human hopes! ah, the sudden and unexpected vicissitudes of human affairs! from these high dreams of happiness i was hurled to the depths of misfortune. i had hired a carriage and pair for the next day. my companion, not wanting to say goodbye before night, announced that he would see me in the morning before my departure. that night a wild hurricane sprang up, which had passed before the next morning. nevertheless i rose after midnight, to make some notes for the count: when it was already seven o'clock and the count did not emerge, i asked for him to be waked. he came, and in his customary shy and modest way asked me whether i meant to leave in such bad weather, saying he was afraid for me. at that point, my dear beatus, some god or bad angel deprived me, not of the half of my senses, as hesiod says, but of the whole: for he had deprived me of half my senses when i risked going to cologne. i wish that either my friend had warned me more sharply or that i had paid more attention to his most affectionate remonstrances! i was seized by the power of fate: what else am i to say? i climbed into an uncovered carriage, the wind blowing 'strong as when in the high mountains it shivers the trembling holm-oaks.' it was a south wind and blowing like the very pest. i thought i was well protected by my wrappings, but it went through everything with its violence. towards nightfall a light rain came on, more noxious than the wind that preceded it: i arrived at aachen exhausted from the shaking of the carriage, which was so trying to me on the stone-paved road that i should have preferred sitting on my horse, lame as he was. here i was carried off from the inn by a canon, to whom the count had recommended me, to suderman's house. there several canons were holding their usual drinking-party. my appetite had been sharpened by a very light lunch; but at the time they had nothing by them but carp, and cold carp at that. i ate to repletion. the drinking went on well into the night. i excused myself and went to bed, as i had had very little sleep the night before. on the following day i was taken to the vice-provost's house; it was his turn to offer hospitality. as there was no fish there apart from eel (this was certainly the fault of the storm, as he is a magnificent host otherwise) i lunched off a fish dried in the open air, which the germans call _stockfisch_, from the rod used to beat it--it is a fish which i enjoy at other times: but i discovered that part of this one had not been properly cured. after lunch, as the weather was appalling, i took myself off to the inn and ordered a fire to be lit. the canon whom i mentioned, a most cultured man, stayed talking with me for about an hour and a half. meanwhile i began to feel very uncomfortable inside; as this continued, i sent him away and went to the privy. as this gave my stomach no relief i inserted my finger into my mouth, and the uncured fish came up, but that was all. i lay down afterwards, not so much sleeping as resting, without any pain in my head or body; then, having struck a bargain with the coachman over the bags, i received an invitation to the evening compotation. i excused myself, without success. i knew that my stomach would not stand anything but a few sups of warmed liquor.... on this occasion there was a magnificent spread, but it was wasted on me. after comforting my stomach with a sup of wine, i went home; i was sleeping at suderman's house. as soon as i went out of doors my empty body shivered fearfully in the night air. on the morning of the next day, after taking a little warmed ale and a few morsels of bread, i mounted my horse, who was lame and ailing, which made riding more uncomfortable. by now i was in such a state that i would have been better keeping warm in bed than mounted on horseback. but that district is the most countrified, roughest, barren and unattractive imaginable, the inhabitants are so idle; so that i preferred to run away. the danger of brigands--it was very great in those parts--or at least my fear of them, was driven out of my mind by the discomfort of my illness.... after covering four miles on this ride i reached maastricht. there after a drink to soothe my stomach i remounted and came to tongres, about three miles away. this last ride was by far the most painful to me. the awkward gait of the horse gave me excruciating pains in the kidneys. it would have been easier to walk, but i was afraid of sweating, and there was a danger of the night catching us still out in the country. so i reached tongres with my whole body in a state of unbelievable agony. by now, owing to lack of food and the exertion in addition, all my muscles had given way, so that i could not stand or walk steadily. i concealed the severity of my illness by my tongue--that was still working. here i took a sup of ale to soothe my stomach and retired to bed. in the morning i ordered them to hire a carriage. i decided to go on horseback, on account of the paving stones, until we reached an unpaved road. i mounted the bigger horse, thinking that he would go better on the paving and be more sure-footed. i had hardly mounted when i felt my eyes clouding over as i met the cold air, and asked for a cloak. but soon after this i fainted; i could be roused by a touch. then my servant john and the others standing by let me come to myself naturally, still sitting on the horse. after coming to myself i got into the carriage.... by now we were approaching the town of st. trond. i mounted once more, not to appear an invalid, riding in a carriage. once again the evening air made me feel sick, but i did not faint. i offered the coachman double the fare if he would take me the next day as far as tirlemont, a town six miles from tongres. he accepted the terms. here a guest whom i knew told me how ill the bishop of liége had taken my leaving for basle without calling on him. after soothing my stomach with a drink i went to bed, and had a very bad night.... here by chance i found a coach going to louvain, six miles away, and threw myself into it. i made the journey in incredible and almost unendurable discomfort; however we reached louvain by seven o'clock on that day. i had no intention of going to my own room, whether because i had a suspicion that all would be cold there, or that i did not want to run the risk of interfering with the amenities of the college in any way, if i started a rumour of the plague. i went to theodoric the printer's.... during the night a large ulcer broke without my feeling it, and the pain had died down. the next day i called a surgeon. he applied poultices. a third ulcer had appeared on my back, caused by a servant at tongres when he was anointing me with oil of roses for the pain in the kidneys and rubbed one of my ribs too hard with a horny finger.... the surgeon on his way out told theodoric and his servant secretly that it was the plague; he would send poultices, but would not come to see me himself.... when the surgeon failed to return after a day or two, i asked theodoric the reason. he made some excuse. but i, suspecting what the matter was, said 'what, does he think it is the plague?' 'precisely,' said he, 'he insists that you have three plague-sores.' i laughed, and did not allow myself even to imagine that i had the plague. after some days the surgeon's father came, examined me, and assured me that it was the true plague. even so, i could not be convinced. i secretly sent for another doctor who had a great reputation. he examined me, and being something of a clown said, 'i should not be afraid to sleep with you--and make love to you too, if you were a woman....' [still another doctor is summoned but does not return as promised, sending his servant instead.] i dismissed the man and losing my temper with the doctors, commended myself to christ as my doctor. my appetite came back within three days.... i then immediately returned to my studies and completed what was still wanting to my new testament.... i had given orders as soon as i arrived that no one was to visit me unless summoned by name, lest i should frighten anyone or suffer inconvenience from anyone's assiduity; but dorp forced his way in first of all, then ath. mark laurin and paschasius berselius, who came every day, did much to make me well with their delightful company. my dear beatus, who would have believed that this meagre delicate body of mine, weakened now by age also, could have succeeded, after all the troubles of travel and all my studious exertions, in standing up to all these physical ills as well? you know how ill i was not long ago at basle, more than once. i was beginning to suspect that that year would be fatal to me: illness followed illness, always more severe. but, at the very time when this illness was at its height, i felt no torturing desire to live and no trepidation at the fear of death. my whole hope was in christ alone, and i prayed only that he would give me what he judged most salutary for me. in my youth long ago, as i remember, i would shiver at the very name of death. this at least i have achieved as i have grown older, that i do not greatly fear death, and i do not measure man's happiness by number of days. i have passed my fiftieth year; as so few out of so many reach this age, i cannot rightly complain that i have not lived long enough. and then, if this has any relevance, i have by now already prepared a monument to bear witness to posterity that i have lived. and perhaps if, as the poets tell, jealousy falls silent after death, fame will shine out the more brightly: although it ill becomes a christian heart to be moved by human glory; may i have the glory of pleasing christ! farewell, my dearest beatus. the rest you will learn from my letter to capito. xiv. to martin luther louvain, may best greetings, most beloved brother in christ. your letter was most welcome to me, displaying a shrewd wit and breathing a christian spirit. i could never find words to express what commotions your books have brought about here. they cannot even now eradicate from their minds the most false suspicion that your works were composed with my aid, and that i am the standard-bearer of this party, as they call it. they thought that they had found a handle wherewith to crush good learning--which they mortally detest as threatening to dim the majesty of theology, a thing they value far above christ--and at the same time to crush me, whom they consider as having some influence on the revival of studies. the whole affair was conducted with such clamourings, wild talk, trickery, detraction and cunning that, had i not been present and witnessed, nay, _felt_ all this, i should never have taken any man's word for it that theologians could act so madly. you would have thought it some mortal plague. and yet the poison of this evil beginning with a few has spread so far abroad that a great part of this university was running mad with the infection of this not uncommon disease. i declared that you were quite unknown to me, that i had not yet read your books, and accordingly neither approved nor disapproved of anything in them. i only warned them not to clamour before the populace in so hateful a manner without having yet read your books: this matter was _their_ concern, whose judgement should carry the greatest weight. further i begged them to consider also whether it were expedient to traduce before a mixed multitude views which were more properly refuted in books or discussed between educated persons, particularly as the author's way of life was extolled by one and all. i failed miserably; up to this day they continue to rave in their insinuating, nay, slanderous disputations. how often have we agreed to make peace! how often have they stirred up new commotions from some rashly conceived shred of suspicion! and these men think themselves theologians! theologians are not liked in court circles here; this too they put down to me. the bishops all favour me greatly. these men put no trust in books, their hope of victory is based on cunning alone. i disdain them, relying on my knowledge that i am in the right. they are becoming a little milder towards yourself. they fear my pen, because of their bad conscience; and i would indeed paint them in their true colours, as they deserve, did not christ's teaching and example summon me elsewhere. wild beasts can be tamed by kindness, which makes these men wild. there are persons in england, and they in the highest positions, who think very well of your writings. here, too, there are people, among them the bishop of liége, who favour your followers. as for me, i keep myself as far as possible neutral, the better to assist the new flowering of good learning; and it seems to me that more can be done by unassuming courteousness than by violence. it was thus that christ brought the world under his sway, and thus that paul made away with the jewish law, by interpreting all things allegorically. it is wiser to cry out against those who abuse the popes' authority than against the popes themselves: and i think that we should act in the same way with the kings. as for the schools, we should not so much reject them as recall them to more reasonable studies. where things are too generally accepted to be suddenly eradicated from men's minds, we must argue with repeated and efficacious proofs and not make positive assertions. the poisonous contentions of certain persons are better ignored than refuted. we must everywhere take care never to speak or act arrogantly or in a party spirit: this i believe is pleasing to the spirit of christ. meanwhile we must preserve our minds from being seduced by anger, hatred or ambition; these feelings are apt to lie in wait for us in the midst of our strivings after piety. i am not advising you to do this, but only to continue doing what you are doing. i have looked into your commentaries on the psalms;[ ] i am delighted with them, and hope that they will do much good. at antwerp we have the prior of the monastery,[ ] a christian without spot, who loves you exceedingly, an old pupil of yours as he says. he is almost alone of them all in preaching christ: the others preach human trivialities or their own gain. i have written to melanchthon. the lord jesus impart you his spirit each day more bountifully, to his own glory and the good of all. i had not your letter at hand when writing this. xv. to ulrich hutten[ ] antwerp, july to the illustrious knight ulrich hutten, greetings: ... as to your demand for a complete portrait, as it were, of more, would that i could execute it with a perfection to match the intensity of your desire! it will be a pleasure, for me as well, to dwell for a space on the contemplation of by far the sweetest friend of all. but in the first place, it is not given to every man to explore all more's gifts. and then i wonder whether he will tolerate being depicted by an indifferent artist; for i think it no less a task to portray more than it would be to portray alexander the great or achilles, and they were no more deserving of immortality than he is. such a subject requires in short the pencil of an apelles; but i fear that i am more like horace's gladiators[ ] than apelles. nevertheless, i shall try to sketch you an image rather than a full portrait of the whole man, so far as my observation or recollection from long association with him in his home has made this possible. if ever you meet him on some embassy you will then for the first time understand how unskilled an artist you have chosen for this commission; and i am downright afraid of your accusing me of jealousy or blindness, that out of so many excellences so few have been perceived by my poor sight or recorded by my jealousy. but to begin with that side of more of which you know nothing, in height and stature he is not tall, nor again noticeably short, but there is such symmetry in all his limbs as leaves nothing to be desired here. he has a fair skin, his complexion glowing rather than pale, though far from ruddy, but for a very faint rosiness shining through. his hair is of a darkish blond, or if you will, a lightish brown, his beard scanty, his eyes bluish grey, with flecks here and there: this usually denotes a happy nature and is also thought attractive by the english, whereas we are more taken by dark eyes. it is said that no type of eyes is less subject to defects. his expression corresponds to his character, always showing a pleasant and friendly gaiety, and rather set in a smiling look; and, to speak honestly, better suited to merriment than to seriousness and solemnity, though far removed from silliness or buffoonery. his right shoulder seems a little higher than the left, particularly when he is walking: this is not natural to him but due to force of habit, like many of the little habits which we pick up. there is nothing to strike one in the rest of his body; only his hands are somewhat clumsy, but only when compared with the rest of his appearance. he has always from a boy been very careless of everything to do with personal adornment, to the point of not greatly caring for those things which according to ovid's teaching should be the sole care of men. one can tell even now, from his appearance in maturity, how handsome he must have been as a young man: although when i first came to know him he was not more than three and twenty years old, for he is now barely forty.[ ] his health is not so much robust as satisfactory, but equal to all tasks becoming an honourable citizen, subject to no, or at least very few, diseases: there is every prospect of his living long, as he has a father of great age[ ]--but a wondrously fresh and green old age. i have never yet seen anyone less fastidious in his choice of food. until he grew up he liked water to drink; in this he took after his father. but so as to avoid irritating anyone over this, he would deceive his comrades by drinking from a pewter pot ale that was very nearly all water, often pure water. wine--the custom in england is to invite each other to drink from the same goblet--he would often sip with his lips, not to give the appearance of disliking it, and at the same time to accustom himself to common ways. he preferred beef, salt fish, and bread of the second quality, well risen, to the foods commonly regarded as delicacies: otherwise he was by no means averse to all sources of innocent pleasure, even to the appetite. he has always had a great liking for milk foods and fruit: he enjoys eating eggs. his voice is neither strong nor at all weak, but easily audible, by no means soft or melodious, but the voice of a clear speaker; for he seems to have no natural gift for vocal music, although he delights in every kind of music. his speech is wonderfully clear and distinct, with no trace of haste or hesitation. he likes to dress simply and does not wear silk or purple or gold chains, excepting where it would not be decent not to wear them. it is strange how careless he is of the formalities by which the vulgar judge good manners. he neither insists on these from any, nor does he anxiously force them on others whether at meetings or at entertainments, although he knows them well enough, should he choose to indulge in them; but he considers it effeminate and not becoming masculine dignity to waste a good part of one's time in suchlike inanities. formerly he disliked court life and the company of princes, for the reason that he has always had a peculiar loathing for tyranny, just as he has always loved equality. (now you will hardly find any court so modest that has not about it much noisy ostentation, dissimulation and luxury, while yet being quite free of any kind of tyranny.) indeed it was only with great difficulty that he could be dragged into the court of henry viii, although nothing more courteous and unassuming than this prince could be desired. he is by nature somewhat greedy of independence and leisure; but while he gladly takes advantage of leisure when it comes his way, none is more careful or patient whenever business demands it. he seems born and created for friendship, which he cultivates most sincerely and fosters most steadfastly. he is not one to be afraid of the 'abundance of friends' which hesiod does not approve; he is ready to enter into friendly relations with any. he is in no way fastidious in choosing friends, accommodating in maintaining them, constant in keeping them. if he chances on anyone whose defects he cannot mend, he dismisses him when the opportunity offers, not breaking but gradually dissolving the friendship. whenever he finds any sincere and suited to his disposition he so delights in their company and conversation that he appears to make this his chief pleasure in life. he loathes ball-games, cards and gambling, and the other games with which the ordinary run of men of rank are used to kill time. furthermore, while he is somewhat careless of his own affairs, there is none more diligent in looking after his friends' affairs. need i continue? should anyone want a finished example of true friendship he could not do better than seek it in more. in social intercourse he is of so rare a courtesy and charm of manners that there is no man so melancholy that he does not gladden, no subject so forbidding that he does not dispel the tedium of it. from his boyhood he has loved joking, so that he might seem born for this, but in his jokes he has never descended to buffoonery, and has never loved the biting jest. as a youth he both composed and acted in little comedies. any witty remark he would still enjoy, even were it directed against himself, such is his delight in clever sallies of ingenious flavour. as a result he wrote epigrams as a young man, and delighted particularly in lucian; indeed he was responsible for my writing the _praise of folly_, that is for making the camel dance. in human relations he looks for pleasure in everything he comes across, even in the gravest matters. if he has to do with intelligent and educated men, he takes pleasure in their brilliance; if with the ignorant and foolish, he enjoys their folly. he is not put out by perfect fools, and suits himself with marvellous dexterity to all men's feelings. for women generally, even for his wife, he has nothing but jests and merriment. you could say he was a second democritus, or better, that pythagorean philosopher who saunters through the market-place with a tranquil mind gazing on the uproar of buyers and sellers. none is less guided by the opinion of the herd, but again none is less remote from the common feelings of humanity. he takes an especial pleasure in watching the appearance, characters and behaviour of various creatures; accordingly there is almost no kind of bird which he does not keep at his home, and various other animals not commonly found, such as apes, foxes, ferrets, weasels and their like. added to this, he eagerly buys anything foreign or otherwise worth looking at which comes his way, and he has the whole house stocked with these objects, so that wherever the visitor looks there is something to detain him; and his own pleasure is renewed whenever he sees others enjoying these sights. when he was of an age for it, he was not averse to love-affairs with young women, but kept them honourable, preferring the love that was offered to that which he must chase after, and was more drawn by spiritual than by physical intercourse. he had devoured classical literature from his earliest years. as a lad he applied himself to the study of greek literature and philosophy; his father, so far from helping him (although he is otherwise a good and sensible man), deprived him of all support in this endeavour; and he was almost regarded as disowned, because he seemed to be deserting his father's studies--the father's profession is english jurisprudence. this profession is quite unconnected with true learning, but in britain those who have made themselves authorities in it are particularly highly regarded, and this is there considered the most suitable road to fame, since most of the nobility of that island owe their origin to this branch of study. it is said that none can become perfect in it without many years of hard work. so, although the young man's mind born for better things not unreasonably revolted from it, nevertheless, after sampling the scholastic disciplines he worked at the law with such success that none was more gladly consulted by litigants, and he made a better living at it than any of those who did nothing else, so quick and powerful was his intellect. he also devoted much strenuous attention to studying the ecclesiastical writers. he lectured publicly to a crowded audience on augustine's _city of god_ while still little more than a lad; and priests and elderly men were neither sorry nor ashamed to learn sacred matters from a youthful layman. for a time he gave his whole mind to the study of piety, practising himself for the priesthood in watchings, fastings and prayer, and other like preliminary exercises; in which matter he was far more sensible than most of those who rashly hurl themselves into this arduous calling without having previously made any trial of themselves. the only obstacle to his devoting himself to this mode of life was his inability to shake off his longing for a wife. he therefore chose to be a chaste husband rather than an unchaste priest. still, he married a girl,[ ] as yet very young, of good family, but still untrained--she had always lived in the country with her parents and sisters--so that he could better fashion her to his own ways. he had her taught literature and made her skilled in all kinds of music; and he had really almost made her such as he would have cared to spend all his life with, had not an untimely death carried her off while still a girl, but after she had borne him several children: of whom there survive three girls, margaret, alice[ ] and cecily, and one boy, john. he would not endure to live long a widower, although his friends counselled otherwise. within a few months of his wife's death he married a widow,[ ] more for the care of the household than for his pleasure, as she was not precisely beautiful nor, as he jokingly says himself, a girl, but a keen and watchful housewife;[ ] with whom he yet lives as pleasantly and agreeably as if she were a most charming young girl. hardly any husband gets so much obedience from his wife by stern orders as he does by jests and cajolery. how could he fail to do so, after having induced a woman on the verge of old age, also by no means a docile character, and lastly most attentive to her business, to learn to play the cithern, the lute, the monochord and the recorders, and perform a daily prescribed exercise in this at her husband's wish? [illustration: xxix. sir thomas more and his family, ] he rules his whole household as agreeably, no quarrels or disturbances arise there. if any quarrel does arise he at once heals or settles the difference; and he has never let anyone leave his house in anger. his house seems blest indeed with a lucky fate, for none has lived there without rising to better fortune, and none has ever acquired a stain on his reputation there. one would be hard put to it to find any agree as well with their mothers as he with his stepmother--his father had already given him two, and he loved both of them as truly as he loved his mother. recently his father gave him a third stepmother: more swears his bible oath he has never seen a better. moreover, he is so disposed towards his parents and children as to be neither tiresomely affectionate nor ever failing in any family duty. he has a mind altogether opposed to sordid gain. he has put aside from his fortune for his children an amount which he considers sufficient for them; the rest he gives away lavishly. while he still made his living at the bar he gave sincere and friendly counsel to all, considering his clients' interests rather than his own; he would persuade most of them to settle their differences--this would be cheaper. if he failed to achieve this, he would then show them a method of going to law at the least possible expense--some people here are so minded that they actually enjoy litigation. in the city of london, where he was born, he acted for some years as a judge in civil causes.[ ] this office is not at all onerous--the court sits only on thursday mornings--but is regarded as one of the most honourable. none dealt with so many cases as he, nor behaved with such integrity; he usually remitted the charge customarily due from litigants (as before the formal entering of the suit the plaintiff pays into court three shillings, the defendant likewise, and it is incorrect to demand more). by this behaviour he won the deep affection of the city. he had made up his mind to rest content with this position, which was sufficiently influential and yet not exposed to grave dangers. twice he was forced into embassies; as he acted in these with great sagacity. king henry viii would not rest until he could drag more to court. why not call it 'drag'? no man ever worked so assiduously to gain admission to the court as he studied to escape it. but when the king decided to fill his household with men of weight, learning, sagacity and integrity, more was one of the first among many summoned by him: he regards more so much as one of his intimate circle that he never lets him depart from him. if serious matters are to be discussed, there is none more skilled than he; or if the king decides to relax in pleasant gossiping, there is no merrier companion. often difficult affairs require a weighty and sagacious arbitrator; more solves these matters with such success that both parties are grateful. yet no one has ever succeeded in persuading him to accept a present from anyone. how happy the states would be if the ruler everywhere put magistrates like more in office! meanwhile he has acquired no trace of haughtiness. amid all these official burdens he does not forget his old friends and from time to time returns to his beloved literature. all the authority of his office, all his influence with the king, is devoted to the service of the state and of his friends. his mind, eager to serve all and wondrously prone to pity, has ever been present to help: he will now be better able to help others, as he has greater power. some he assists with money, some he protects with his authority, others he advances by introductions; those whom he cannot help otherwise he aids with counsel, and he has never sent anyone away disappointed. you might call more the common advocate of all those in need. he regards himself as greatly enriched when he assists the oppressed, extricates the perplexed and involved, or reconciles the estranged. none confers a benefit so gladly, none is so slow to upbraid. and although he is fortunate on so many counts, and good fortune is often associated with boastfulness, it has never yet been my lot to meet any man so far removed from this vice. but i must return to recounting his studies--it was these which chiefly brought more and myself together. in his youth he chiefly practised verse composition, afterwards he worked hard and long to polish his prose, practising his style in all kinds of composition. what that style is like, i need not describe--particularly not to you, who always have his books in your hands. he especially delighted in composing declamations, and in these liked paradoxical themes, for the reason that this offers keener practice to the wits. this caused him, while still a youth, to compose a dialogue in which he defended plato's communism, even to the community of wives. he wrote a rejoinder to lucian's _tyrannicide_; in this theme he desired to have me as his antagonist, to make a surer trial of his progress in this branch of letters. his _utopia_ was published with the aim of showing the causes of the bad condition of states; but was chiefly a portrait of the british state, which he has thoroughly studied and explored. he had written the second book first in his leisure hours, and added the first book on the spur of the moment later, when the occasion offered. some of the unevenness of the style is due to this. one could hardly find a better _ex tempore_ speaker: a happy talent has complete command of a happy turn of speech. he has a present wit, always flying ahead, and a ready memory; and having all this ready to hand, he can promptly and unhesitatingly produce whatever the subject or occasion requires. in arguments he is unimaginably acute, so that he often puzzles the best theologians on their own ground. john colet, a man of keen and exact judgement, often observes in intimate conversation that britain has only one genius: although this island is rich in so many fine talents. [illustration: xxx. erasmus at the age of ] he diligently cultivates true piety, while being remote from all superstitious observance. he has set hours in which he offers to god not the customary prayers but prayers from the heart. with his friends he talks of the life of the world to come so that one sees that he speaks sincerely and not without firm hope. such is more even in the court. and then there are those who think that christians are to be found only in monasteries!... there you have a portrait not very well drawn by a very bad artist from a most excellent model. you will like it less if you happen to come to know more better. but for the time being i have prevented your being able to cast in my teeth my failure to obey you, and always accusing me of writing too short letters. still, this did not seem long to me as i was writing it, and i know that you will not find it long drawn out as you read it: our friend more's charm will see to that. farewell. xvi. to willibald pirckheimer[ ] basle, march to the illustrious willibald pirckheimer, greetings: ... i received safely the very pretty ring which you desired me to have as a memento of you. i know that gems are prized as bringing safety when one has a fall. but they say too, that if the fall was likely to be fatal, the evil is diverted on to the gem, so that it is seen to be broken after the accident. once in britain i fell with my horse from a fairly high bank: no damage was found to me or my horse, yet the gem i was wearing was whole. it was a present from alexander, archbishop of st. andrews,[ ] whom i think you know from my writings. when i left him at siena, he drew it off his finger and handing it to me said: 'take this as a pledge of our friendship that will never die.' and i kept my pledged faith with him even after his death, celebrating my friend's memory in my writings. there is no part of life into which magical superstition has not insinuated itself: if gems have some great virtue, i could have wished in these days for a ring with an efficacious remedy against 'slander's tooth.' as to the belief about falls, i shall follow your advice--i shall prefer to believe rather than risk myself. portraits are less precious than jewels--i have received from you a medallic and a painted portrait--but at least they bring my willibald more vividly before me. alexander the great would only allow himself to be painted by apelles's hand. you have found your apelles in albrecht dürer,[ ] an artist of the first rank and no less to be admired for his remarkable good sense. if only you had likewise found some lysippus[ ] to cast the medal! i have the medal of you on the righthand wall of my bedroom, the painting on the left; whether writing or walking up and down, i have willibald before my eyes, so that if i wanted to forget you i could not. though i have a more retentive memory for friends than for anything else. certainly willibald could not be forgotten by me, even were there no memento, no portraits, no letters to refresh my memory of him. there is another very pleasant thing--the portraits often occasion a talk about you when my friends come to visit me. if only our letters travelled safely, how little we should miss of each other! you have a medal of me. i should not object to having my portrait painted by dürer,[ ] that great artist; but how this can be done i do not see. once at brussels he sketched me, but after a start had been made the work was interrupted by callers from the court. though i have long been a sad model for painters, and am likely to become a sadder one still as the days go on.[ ] i read with pleasure what you write, as witty as it is wise, on the agitations of certain persons who are destroying the evangelical movement, to which they imagine themselves to be doing splendid service: and i have much to tell you in my turn about this. but this will be another time, when i have more leisure. farewell. xvii. to martin luther basle, april to martin luther, greetings: ... your letter has been delivered too late;[ ] but had it arrived in the best of time, it would not have moved me one whit. i am not so simple as to be appeased by one or two pleasantries or soothed by flattery after receiving so many more than mortal wounds. your nature is by now known to all the world, but you have so tempered your pen that never have you written against anyone so frenziedly, nay, what is more abominable, so maliciously. now it occurs to you that you are a weak sinner, whereas at other times you insist almost on being taken for god. you are a man, as you write, of violent temperament, and you take pleasure in this remarkable argument. why then did you not pour forth this marvellous piece of invective on the bishop of rochester[ ] or on cochleus?[ ] they attack you personally and provoke you with insults, while my _diatribe_[ ] was a courteous disputation. and what has all this to do with the subject--all this facetious abuse, these slanderous lies, charging me with atheism, epicureanism, scepticism in articles of the christian profession, blasphemy, and what not--besides many other points on which i[ ] am silent? i take these charges the less hardly, because in all this there is nothing to make my conscience disturb me. if i did not think as a christian of god and the holy scriptures, i could not wish my life prolonged even until tomorrow. if you had conducted your case with your usual vehemence, without frenzied abuse, you would have provoked fewer men against you: as things are, you have been pleased to fill more than a third part of the volume with such abuse, giving free rein to your feelings. how far you have given way to me the facts themselves show--so many palpable crimes do you fasten on me; while my _diatribe_ was not even intended to stir up those matters which the world itself knows of. you imagine, i suppose, that erasmus has no supporters. more than you think. but it does not matter what happens to us two, least of all to myself who must shortly go hence, even if the whole world were applauding us: it is _this_ that distresses me, and all the best spirits with me, that with that arrogant, impudent, seditious temperament of yours you are shattering the whole globe in ruinous discord, exposing good men and lovers of good learning to certain frenzied pharisees, arming for revolt the wicked and the revolutionary, and in short so carrying on the cause of the gospel as to throw all things sacred and profane into chaos; as if you were eager to prevent this storm from turning at last to a happy issue; i have ever striven towards such an opportunity. what you owe me, and in what coin you have repaid me--i do not go into that. all that is a private matter; it is the public disaster which distresses me, and the irremediable confusion of everything, for which we have to thank only your uncontrolled nature, that will not be guided by the wise counsel of friends, but easily turns to any excess at the prompting of certain inconstant swindlers. i know not whom you have saved from the power of darkness; but you should have drawn the sword of your pen against those ungrateful wretches and not against a temperate disputation. i would have wished you a better mind, were you not so delighted with your own. wish me what you will, only not your mind, unless god has changed it for you. xviii. to theophrastus paracelsus[ ] basle, _c._ march to the most skilled physician theophrastus of einsiedeln, etc., greetings: ... it is not incongruous to wish continued spiritual health to the medical man through whom god gives us physical health. i wonder how you know me so thoroughly, having seen me once only. i recognize how very true are your dark sayings, not by the art of medicine, which i have never learned, but from my own wretched sensations. i have felt pains in the region of the liver in the past, and could not divine the source of the trouble. i have seen the fat from the kidneys in my water many years ago. your third point[ ] i do not quite understand, nevertheless it appears to be convincing. as i told you, i have no time for the next few days to be doctored, or to be ill, or to die, so overwhelmed am i with scholarly work. but if there is anything which can alleviate the trouble without weakening the body, i beg you to inform me. if you will be so good as to explain at greater length your very concise and more than laconic notes, and prescribe other remedies which i can take until i am free, i cannot promise you a fee to match your art or the trouble you have taken, but i do at least promise you a grateful heart. you have resurrected froben[ ], that is, my other half: if you restore me also, you will have restored both of us by treating each of us singly. may we have the good fortune to keep you in basle! i fear you may not be able to read this letter dashed off immediately [after receiving yours]. farewell. erasmus of rotterdam, by his own hand. xix. to martin bucer[ ] basle, november best greetings: you plead the cause of capito with some rhetorical skill; but i see that, eloquent advocate as you are otherwise, you are not sufficiently well equipped to undertake his defence. were i to advance my battle-line of conjectures and proofs, you would realize that you had to devise a different speech. but i have had too much of squabbling, and do not easily bestir myself against men whom i once sincerely loved. what the knight of eppendorff[ ] ventures or does not venture to do is his concern; only that he returns too frequently to this game. i shall not involve capito in the drama unless he involves himself again; let him not think me such a fool as not to know what is in question. but i have written myself on these matters. furthermore, as to your pleading your own cause and that of your church, i think it better not to give any answer, because this matter would require a very lengthy oration, even if it were not a matter of controversy. this is merely a brief answer on scattered points. the person who informed me about 'languages'[ ] is one whose trustworthiness not even you would have esteemed lightly; and he thinks no ill of you. indeed i have never disliked you as far as concerns private feelings. there are persons living in your town who were chattering here about 'all the disciplines having been invented by godforsaken wretches'. certainly persons of this description, whatever name must be given them, are in the ascendancy everywhere, all studies are neglected and come to a standstill. at nuremberg the city treasury has hired lecturers, but there is no one to attend their lectures. you assemble a number of conjectures as to why i have not joined your church. but you must know that the first and most important of all the reasons which withheld me from associating myself with it was my conscience: if my conscience could have been persuaded that this movement proceeded from god, i should have been now long since a soldier in your camp. the second reason is that i see many in your group who are strangers to all evangelical soundness. i make no mention of rumours and suspicions, i speak of things learned from experience, nay, learned to my own injury; things experienced not merely from the mob, but from men who appear to be of some worth, not to mention the leading men. it is not for me to judge of what i know not: the world is wide. i know some as excellent men before they became devotees of your faith, what they are now like i do not know: at all events i have learned that several of them have become worse and none better, so far as human judgement can discern. the third thing which deterred me is the intense discord between the leaders of the movement. not to mention the prophets and the anabaptists, what embittered pamphlets zwingli, luther and osiander write against each other! i have never approved the ferocity of the leaders, but it is provoked by the behaviour of certain persons; when they ought to have made the gospel acceptable by holy and forbearing conduct, if you really had what you boast of. not to speak of the others, of what use was it for luther to indulge in buffoonery in that fashion against the king of england, when he had undertaken a task so arduous with the general approval? was he not reflecting as to the role he was sustaining? did he not realize that the whole world had its eyes turned on him alone? and this is the chief of this movement; i am not particularly angry with him for treating me so scurrilously: but his betrayal of the cause of the gospel, his letting loose princes, bishops, pseudo-monks and pseudo-theologians against good men, his having made doubly hard our slavery, which is already intolerable--that is what tortures my mind. and i seem to see a cruel and bloody century ahead, if the provoked section gets its breath again, which it is certainly now doing. you will say that there is no crowd without an admixture of wicked men. certainly it was the duty of the principal men to exercise special care in matters of conduct, and not be even on speaking terms with liars, perjurors, drunkards and fornicators. as it is i hear and almost _see_, that things are far otherwise. if the husband had found his wife more amenable, the teacher his pupil more obedient, the magistrate the citizen more tractable, the employer his workman more trustworthy, the buyer the seller less deceitful, it would have been great recommendation for the gospels. as things are, the behaviour of certain persons has had the effect of cooling the zeal of those who at first, owing to their love of piety and abhorrence of pharisaism, looked with favour on this movement; and the princes, seeing a disorderly host springing up in its wake made up of vagabonds, fugitives, bankrupts, naked, wretched and for the most part even wicked men, are cursing, even those who in the beginning had been hopeful. it is not without deep sorrow that i speak of all this, not only because i foresee that a business wrongly handled will go from bad to worse, but also because at last i shall myself have to suffer for it. certain rascals say that my writings are to blame for the fact that the scholastic theologians and monks are in several places becoming less esteemed than they would like, that ceremonies are neglected, and that the supremacy of the roman pontiff is disregarded; when it is quite dear from what source this evil has sprung. they were stretching too tight the rope which is now breaking. they almost set the pope's authority above christ's, they measured all piety by ceremonies, and tightened the hold of the confession to an enormous extent, while the monks lorded it without fear of punishment, by now meditating open tyranny. as a result 'the stretched string snapped', as the proverb has it; it could not be otherwise. but i sorely fear that the same will happen one day to the princes, if they too continue to stretch _their_ rope too tightly. again, the other side having commenced the action of their drama as they did, no different ending was possible. may we not live to see worse horrors! however it was the duty of the leaders of this movement, if christ was their goal, to refrain not only from vice, but even from every appearance of evil; and to offer not the slightest stumbling block to the gospel, studiously avoiding even practices which, although allowed, are yet not expedient. above all they should have guarded against all sedition. if they had handled the matter with sincerity and moderation, they would have won the support of the princes and bishops: for they have not all been given up for lost. and they should not have heedlessly wrecked anything without having something better ready to put in its place. as it is, those who have abandoned the hours do not pray at all. many who have put off pharisaical clothing are worse in other matters than they were before. those who disdain the episcopal regulations do not even obey the commandments of god. those who disregard the careful choice of foods indulge in greed and gluttony. it is a long-drawn-out tragedy, which every day we partly hear ourselves and partly learn of from others. i never approved of the abolition of the mass, even though i have always disliked these mean and money-grabbing mass-priests. there were other things also which could have been altered without causing riots. as things are, certain persons are not satisfied with any of the accepted practices; as if a new world could be built of a sudden. there will always be things which the pious must endure. if anyone thinks that mass ought to be abolished because many misuse it, then the sermon should be abolished also, which is almost the only custom accepted by your party. i feel the same about the invocation of the saints and about images. your letter demanded a lengthy reply, but even this letter is very long, with all that i have to do. i am told that you have a splendid gift for preaching the word of the gospel, and that you conduct yourself more courteously than do many. so i could wish that with your good sense you would strive to the end that this movement, however it began, may through firmness and moderation in doctrine and integrity of conduct be brought to a conclusion worthy of the gospel. to this end i shall help you to the best of my ability. as it is, although the host of monks and certain theologians assail me with all their artifices, nothing will induce me wittingly to cast away my soul. you will have the good sense not to circulate this letter, lest it cause any disturbance. we would have more discussions if we could meet. farewell. i had no time to read this over. erasmus of rotterdam, by my own hand. [illustration: xxxi. erasmus at the age of ] xx. to alfonso valdes[ ] basle, august to the most illustrious alfonso valdes, secretary to his imperial majesty, greetings: ... i have learned very plainly from other men's letters what you indicate very discreetly, as is your way--that there are some who seek to make _terminus_,[ ] the seal on my ring, an occasion for slander, protesting that the addition of the device _concedo nulli_ [i yield to none] shows intolerable arrogance. what is this but some fatal malady, consisting in misrepresenting everything? momus[ ] is ridiculed for criticizing venus's slipper; but these men outdo momus himself, finding something to carp at in a ring. i would have called _them_ momuses, but momus carps at nothing but what he has first carefully inspected. these fault-finders, or rather false accusers, criticize with their eyes shut what they neither see nor understand: so violent is the disease. and meanwhile they think themselves pillars of the church, whereas all they do is to expose their stupidity combined with a malice no less extreme, when they are already more notorious than they should be. they are dreaming if they think it is erasmus who says _concedo nulli_. but if they read my writings they would see that there is none so humble that i rank myself above him, being more liable to yield to all than to none. [illustration: xxxii. erasmus's device] now those who know me intimately from close association will attribute any vice to me sooner than arrogance, and will acknowledge that i am closer to the socratic utterance, 'this alone i know, that i know nothing,' than to this, 'i yield to none.' but if they imagine that i have so insolent a mind as to put myself before all others, do they also think me such a fool as to profess this in a device? if they had any christian feeling they would understand those words either as not mine or as bearing another meaning. they see there a sculptured figure, in its lower part a stone, in its upper part a youth with flying hair. does this look like erasmus in any respect? if this is not enough, they see written on the stone itself _terminus_: if one takes this as the last word, that will make an iambic dimeter acatalectic, _concedo nulli terminus_; if one begins with this word, it will be a trochaic dimeter acatalectic, _terminus concedo nulli_. what if i had painted a lion and added as a device 'flee, unless you prefer to be torn to pieces'? would they attribute these words to me instead of the lion? but what they are doing now is just as foolish; for if i mistake not, i am more like a lion than a stone. they will argue, 'we did not notice that it was verse, and we know nothing about terminus.' is it then to be a crime henceforward to have written verse, because _they_ have not learned the theory of metre? at least, as they knew that in devices of this kind one actually aims at a certain degree of obscurity in order to exercise the guessing powers of those who look at them, if they did not know of terminus--although they could have learned of him from the books of augustine or ambrose--they should have inquired of experts in this kind of matter. in former times field boundaries were marked with some sign. this was a stone projecting above the earth, which the laws of the ancients ordered never to be moved; here belongs the platonic utterance, 'remove not what thou hast not planted.' the law was reinforced by a religious awe, the better to deter the ignorant multitude from daring to remove the stone, by making it believe that to violate the stone was to violate a god in it, whom the romans call terminus, and to him there was also dedicated a shrine and a festival, the terminalia. this god terminus, as the roman historian has it, was alone in refusing to yield to jupiter because 'while the birds allowed the deconsecration of all the other sanctuaries, in the shrine of terminus alone they were unpropitious.'[ ] livy tells this story in the first book of his _history_, and again in book he narrates how 'when after the taking of auguries the capitol was being cleared, juventas [youth] and terminus would not allow themselves to be moved.'[ ] this omen was welcomed with universal rejoicing, for they believed that it portended an eternal empire. the _youth_ is useful for war, and _terminus_ is fixed. here they will exclaim perchance, 'what have _you_ to do with a mythical god?' he came to me, i did not adopt him. when i was called to rome, and alexander, titular archbishop of st. andrews,[ ] was summoned home from siena by his father king james of scotland, as a grateful and affectionate pupil he gave me several rings for a memento of our time together. among these was one which had _terminus_ engraved on the jewel; an italian interested in antiquities had pointed this out, which i had not known before. i seized on the omen and interpreted it as a warning that the term of my existence was not far off--at that time i was in about my fortieth year. to keep this thought in my mind i began to seal my letters with this sign. i added the verse, as i said before. and so from a heathen god i made myself a device, exhorting me to correct my life. for death is truly a boundary which knows no yielding to any. but in the medal there is added in greek, [greek: ora telos makrou biou], that is, 'consider the end of a long life,' in latin _mors ultima linea rerum_. they will say, 'you could have carved on it a dead man's skull.' perhaps i should have accepted that, if it had come my way: but this pleased me, because it came to me by chance, and then because it had a double charm for me; from the allusion to an ancient and famous story, and from its obscurity, a quality specially belonging to devices. there is my defence on _terminus_, or better say on hair-splitting. and if only they would at last set a _term_ to their misrepresentations! i will gladly come to an agreement with them to change my device, if they will change their malady. indeed by so doing they would be doing more for their own authority, which they complain is being undermined by the lovers of good learning. i myself am assuredly so far from desiring to injure their reputation that i am deeply pained at their delivering themselves over to the ridicule of the whole world by these stupid tricks, and not blushing to find themselves confuted with mockery on every occasion. the lord keep you safe in body and soul, my beloved friend in christ. xxi. to charles blount[ ] freiburg im breisgau, march to the noble youth charles mountjoy, greetings: ... i have determined to dedicate to you livy, the prince of latin history; already many times printed, but never before in such a magnificent or accurate edition: and if this is not enough, augmented by five books recently discovered; these were found by some good genius in the library of the monastery at lorsch by simon grynaeus,[ ] a man at once learned without arrogance in all branches of literature and at the same time born for the advancement of liberal studies. now this monastery was built opposite worms, or berbethomagium, by charlemagne seven hundred years and more ago, and equipped with great store of books; for this was formerly the special care of princes, and this is usually the most precious treasure of the monasteries. the original manuscript was one of marvellous antiquity, painted[ ] in the antique fashion with the letters in a continuous series, so that it has proved very difficult to separate word from word, unless one is knowledgeable, careful and trained for this very task. this caused much trouble in preparing a copy to be handed to the printer's men for their use; a careful and faithful watch was kept to prevent any departure from the original in making the copy. so if the poor fragment which came to us recently from mainz was justly welcomed by scholars with great rejoicing,[ ] what acclamation should greet this large addition to livy's _history_? would to god that this author could be restored to us complete and entire. there are rumours flying round that give some hope of this: men boast of unpublished liviana existing, now in denmark, now in poland, now in germany. at least now that fortune has given us these remnants against all men's expectations, i do not see why we should despair of the possibility of finding still more. and here, in my opinion at least, the princes would be acting worthily if they offered rewards and attracted scholars to the search for such a treasure, or prevailed upon them to publish--if there are perchance any who are suppressing and hiding away to the great detriment of studies something in a fit state to be of public utility. for it seems perfectly absurd that men will dig through the bowels of the earth almost down to hades at vast peril and expense in order to find a little gold or silver: and yet will utterly disregard treasures of this kind, as far above those others in value as the soul excels the body, and not consider them worth searching for. this is the spirit of midases, not of princes; and as i know that your character is utterly at variance with this spirit, i doubt not that you will most eagerly welcome this great gain. now, there are chiefly two considerations which remove all possible doubt as to this half-decade's being genuinely by livy: in the first place that of the diction itself, which in all features recalls its author: secondly that of the arguments or epitomes of floras, which correspond exactly with these books. and so, knowing that there is no kind of reading more fitting for men of note than that of the historians, of whom livy is easily the chief (i speak of the roman historians), particularly as we have nothing of sallust beyond two fragments, and bearing in mind what an insatiable glutton, so to speak, your father has always been for history (and i doubt not that you resemble him in this also): i thought i should not be acting incongruously in publishing these five books with a special dedication to you. although in this point i should not wish you to resemble your father too closely. he is in the way of poring over his books every day from dinner until midnight, which is wearisome to his wife and attendants and a cause of much grumbling among the servants; so far he has been able to do this without loss of health; still, i do not think it wise for you to take the same risk, which may not turn out as successfully. certainly when your father was studying along with the present king while still a young man, they read chiefly history, with the strong approval of his father henry vii, a king of remarkable judgement and good sense. joined to this edition is the chronology of henry glareanus, a man of exquisite and many-sided learning, whose indefatigable industry refines, adorns and enriches with the liberal disciplines not the renowned gymnasium at freiburg alone, but this whole region as well. the chronology shows the order of events, the details of the wars, and the names of persons, in which up till now there has reigned astonishing confusion, brought about through the fault of the scribes and dabblers in learning. yet this was the sole guiding light of history! without this pole star our navigation on the ocean of history is completely blind: and without this thread to help him, the reader becomes involved in an inextricable maze, learned though he be, in these labyrinths of events. if you consider your letter well repaid by this gift, it will now be your turn to write me a letter. farewell. xxii. to bartholomew latomus[ ] basle, august to bartholomew latomus, greetings: ... in apologizing for your silence you are wasting your time, believe me; i am not in the habit of judging tried friends by this common courtesy. it would be impudent of me to charge you with an omission which you have an equal right to accuse me of in turn.... the heads of the colleges are not doing anything new. they are afraid of their own revenues suffering, this being the sole aim of most of them. you would scarcely believe to what machinations they stooped at louvain in their efforts to prevent a trilingual college being established. i worked strenuously in the matter, and have made myself accordingly very unpopular. there was an attempt to set up a chair of languages at tournai, but the university of louvain and the franciscans at tournai did not rest until the project was abandoned. the house erected for this purpose overlooked the franciscans' garden--that was the cause of the trouble.... i have had a long life, counting in years; but were i to calculate the time spent in wrestling with fever, the stone and the gout, i have not lived long. but we must patiently bear whatever the lord has sent upon us, whose will no one can resist, and who alone knows what is good for us.... the glory [of an immortal name] moves me not at all, i am not anxious over the applause of posterity. my one concern and desire is to depart hence with christ's favour. many french nobles have fled here for fear of the winter storm, after having been recalled.[ ] 'the lion shall roar, who shall not fear?' says the prophet.[ ] a like terror has seized the english, from an unlike cause. certain monks have been beheaded and among them a monk of the order of st. bridget[ ] was dragged along the ground, then hanged, and finally drawn and quartered. there is a firm and probable rumour here that the news of the bishop of rochester having been co-opted by paul iii as a cardinal caused the king to hasten his being dragged out of prison and beheaded--his method of conferring the scarlet hat. it is all too true that thomas more has been long in prison and his fortune confiscated. it was being said that he too had been executed, but i have no certain news as yet.[ ] would that he had never embroiled himself in this perilous business and had left the theological cause to the theologians. the other friends who from time to time honoured me with letters and gifts now send nothing and write nothing from fear, and accept nothing from anyone, as if under every stone there slept a scorpion. it seems that the pope is seriously thinking of a council here. but i do not see how it is to meet in the midst of such dissension between princes and lands. the whole of lower germany is astonishingly infected with anabaptists: in upper germany they pretend not to notice them. they are pouring in here in droves; some are on their way to italy. the emperor is besieging goletta; in my opinion there is more danger from the anabaptists. i do not think that france is entirely free of this plague; but they are silent there for fear of the cudgel.... now i must tell you something about my position which will amuse you. i had written to paul iii at the instance of louis ber, the distinguished theologian. before unsealing the letter he spoke of me with great respect. and as he had to make several scholars cardinals for the coming council, the name of erasmus was proposed among others. but obstacles were mentioned, my health, not strong enough for the duties, and my low income; for they say there is a decree which excludes from this office those whose annual income is less than , ducats. now they are busy heaping benefices on me, so that i can acquire the proper income from these and receive the red hat. the proverbial cat in court-dress. i have a friend in rome who is particularly active in the business; in vain have i warned him more than once by letter that i want no cures or pensions, that i am a man who lives from day to day, and every day expecting death, often longing for it, so horrible sometimes are the pains. it is hardly safe for me to put a foot outside my bedroom, and even the merest trifle upsets me.[ ] with my peculiar, emaciated body i can only stand warm air. and in this condition they want to push me forward as a candidate for benefices and cardinals' hats! but meanwhile i am gratified by the supreme pontiff's delusions about me and his feelings towards me. but i am being more wordy than i intended. i should easily forgive your somewhat lengthy letter, if you were to repeat that fault often.... farewell. footnotes: [ ] servatius roger (d. ), whom erasmus came to know as a young monk soon after his entry into steyn, became eighth prior of steyn; it was as prior that he wrote to erasmus in to urge him to return to the monastery, see pp. , f., ff. [ ] juvenal, ix. - . [ ] n. werner (d. september ), later prior of steyn. [ ] probably james stuart, brother of james iv of scotland, archbishop of st. andrews, , aged about twenty-one at this time. [ ] relative of john fisher, bishop of rochester. took his doctor's degree in italy, returned to england . [ ] william grocyn (_c._ - ), fellow of new college, one of the first to teach greek in oxford. [ ] thomas linacre (_c._ - ), fellow of all souls college, oxford, . translator of galen. helped to found the college of physicians, . [ ] james batt ( ?- ), secretary to the council of the town of bergen. [ ] anne of burgundy, the lady of veere ( ?- ), patroness of erasmus until - , when she remarried. [ ] i.e. to replace greek words either corrupted or omitted. erasmus is here referring probably to the text of the _letters_ of jerome; he uses the same expression in his letter of may to leo x (allen , v. ff.): 'i have purified the text of the letters ... and carefully restored the greek, which was either missing altogether or inserted incorrectly'. [ ] brother of henry of bergen (bishop of cambrai) and by this time abbot of st. bertin at st. omer, where he was forcibly installed by his brother the bishop in . [ ] 'and my sin is ever before me,' where _contra_ could be rendered as either 'before' or 'against'; the ambiguity is resolved by referring to the greek, where [greek: enôpion] = face to face with. [ ] apparently a loose statement of the _constitutions_ of clement v, promulgated after the council of vienne, - , bk. , tit. , cap. , in which for the better conversion of infidels it was ordained that two teachers for each of the three languages, hebrew, arabic, and chaldaean be appointed in each of the four universities, paris, oxford, bologna and salamanca. greek was included in the original list, but afterwards omitted. [ ] probably george hermonymus of sparta. [ ] cf. juvenal, iii. . (_graeculus esuriens_.) [ ] william warham ( ?- ) became archbishop of canterbury in , lord chancellor of england, - , chancellor of oxford university from . this letter forms the preface to _hecuba_ in _euripidis_ ... _hecuba et iphigenia; latinae factae erasmo roterodamo interprete_, paris, j. badius, september . [ ] [greek: en tô pithô tên kerameian], i.e., to run before one can walk, to make a winejar being the most advanced job in pottery. [ ] politian translated parts of iliad, - into latin hexameters, dedicating the work to lorenzo dei medici. published by a. mai, spicilegium romanum, ii. [ ] nicholas de valle translated the _works and days_ (_georgica_), bonninus mombritius the _theogonia_. [ ] martin phileticus. [ ] no. ; his funeral orations were printed _c._ at milan. [ ] aldus manutius ( - ) founded the aldine press at venice, . [ ] published by aldus, . [ ] published by aldus, . [ ] published by aldus, , although projected in . [ ] _euripidis ... hecuba et iphigenia_ [in aulide]; _latinae factae erasmo roterodamo interprete_, paris, j. badius, september . reprinted by aldus at venice, december (and by froben at basle in and ). [ ] thomas more ( - ). this letter is the preface to the _moriae encomium_, published by gilles gourmont at paris without date, reprinted by schürer at strasbourg, august . [ ] the greek 'laughing philosopher'. [ ] john colet ( ?- ), dean of st. paul's , had founded st. paul's school in the previous year ( ). [ ] raffaele riario ( - ), leo x's most formidable rival in the election of . [ ] francesco alidosi of imola, d. . [ ] robert guibé(_c._ - ), cardinal of st. anastasia and bishop of nantes ( ). [ ] leo x. [ ] wolsey. [ ] _enchiridion militis christiani_, printed in _lucubratiunculae_, . [ ] a new and enlarged edition under the title _adagiorum chiliades_, printed by aldus in . [ ] _de duplici copia verborum ac rerum commentarii duo_, paris, badius, . [ ] the hebrew scholar, who adhered to the reformation, . [ ] f. ximenes ( - ), confessor of queen isabella, archbishop of toledo, , founded alcalá university, ; he promoted the polyglot bible. [ ] ( - ), taught medicine at ferrara and made translations from aristotle, dio cassius, galen and hippocrates. [ ] (d. ) professor of medicine at naples, and from at venice; physician to aldus's household, where he met erasmus. [ ] ( - ), physician, astronomer and humanist; learned greek with erasmus in paris. he was physician to the court of francis i. [ ] ( - ), dean of the medical faculty at paris, - , and physician to francis i. [ ] ( / - ), the parisian humanist, whose _annotationes in xxiv pandectarum libros_ were published by badius in . [ ] ulrich zäsi or zasius ( - ) lector ordinarius in laws at freiburg from until his death. [ ] henry loriti of canton glarus, usually known as glareanus ( - ), had an academy at basle where he took in thirty boarders. [ ] published at basle, march . [ ] a translation of galen's _methodus medendi_, not printed until june . lupset supervised the printing. [ ] this may be the _de pueris statim ac liberaliter instituendis_, composed in italy. more writes to erasmus in (allen ) that he has received part of the ms. from lupset, but it was not published until . [ ] luther's _theses_, posted october and printed shortly afterwards at wittenberg. [ ] the proposals for a crusade drawn up at rome, november . [ ] the _julius exclusus_, an attack on pope julius ii, who died . erasmus never directly denied his authorship, and more speaks of a copy in erasmus's hand (allen ). [ ] beat bild ( - ), whose family came from rheinau near schlettstadt, became m.a., paris, in . he worked as a corrector at henry stephanus's press in paris, with schürer in strasbourg, and from for fifteen years with amerbach and froben in basle, where he edited and superintended the publication of numerous books. [ ] haecceity, 'thisness', 'individuality', t.t. of scotistic philosophy, cf. quiddity, 'essence'. [ ] i.e. the literary society of strasbourg. a letter survives, addressed to erasmus in the name of this society, dated september , in which occur all the names mentioned here, with the exception of gerbel's. [ ] a portrait drawing of varnbüler by albrecht dürer is in the albertina, vienna; dürer made also a woodcut from it. [ ] hermann, count of neuenahr ( - ), a pupil of caesarius, with whom he visited italy in - . in he lectured in cologne on greek and hebrew, and became later chancellor of the university. among his works is a letter in defence of erasmus. [ ] _operationes in psalmos_. wittenberg, . [ ] james probst or proost (præpositus) of ypres ( - ). [ ] ulrich hutten ( - ), the german knight and humanist. [ ] satires , vii. (where however the gladiators are the subject, and not the artists, of a crude charcoal sketch). [ ] sir thomas more's portrait at the age of fifty was painted by hans holbein; it is now in the frick collection, new york. two portrait drawings of him by holbein are in the royal library at windsor castle. see also p. , note . [ ] john more ( ?- ), at this time a judge of common pleas, promoted to the king's bench in . [ ] jane colt (_c._ - ). [ ] more's second daughter was elizabeth; alice was the name of his stepdaughter. [ ] alice middleton. [ ] a group portrait of sir thomas more with his entire family was painted by hans holbein about - at more's house in chelsea. it was commissioned from the artist at the recommendation of erasmus. the original has been lost; see plate xxix and p. . [ ] more was elected under-sheriff, . [ ] w. pirckheimer ( - ), humanist. after studying law and greek in italy he settled at nuremberg. some of his works were illustrated by dürer. [ ] alexander stewart (_c._ - ), natural son of james iv of scotland, fell at flodden. erasmus was his tutor in italy in - . for details of this ring see p. f. [ ] dürer made three portraits of him, two drawings (now in berlin and in brunswick) and an engraving. [ ] the greek sculptor, _c._ b.c. in a letter to pirckheimer dated january - (allen , n.) erasmus appears dissatisfied with the reverse of the medal cast by metsys in . extant examples all show a reverse revised in accordance with his suggestions. [ ] a drawing of erasmus was made by dürer in (now in the louvre), and an engraving in . [ ] erasmus had his portrait painted by holbein several times in - and - . a number of originals and copies are still extant. [ ] luther's letter, in which he evidently attempted to mitigate erasmus's indignation against his _de servo arbitrio_ (the will not free), which was a reply to erasmus's _de libero arbitrio_ (on free will), . luther's letter came 'too late' because erasmus had already composed the _hyperaspistes diatribe adversus servum arbitrium martini lutheri_, basle, froben, . [ ] john fisher ( ?- ). [ ] john dobeneck of wendelstein. [ ] i.e., the _de libero arbitrio_. [ ] reading _reticeo_ for _retices_. [ ] theophrastus bombast of einsiedeln (also known as theophrastus of hohenheim, whence his ancestors came), - . the name paracelsus may be a translation of hohenheim, or may signify a claim to be greater than celsus, the roman physician. appointed _physicus et ordinarius basiliensis_ in . [ ] paracelsus had diagnosed the stone, from which erasmus suffered, as being due to crystallization of salt in the kidneys. [ ] froben died before the year was out. [ ] martin butzer (_c._ - ), later bucer, a dominican, who obtained dispensation from his vows in and adhered to the reformation. at this time he was a member of the strasbourg party, and this letter is probably an answer to a request for an interview for bucer and other strasbourg delegates on their way through basle to berne. he eventually became regius professor of divinity at cambridge under edward vi. [ ] henry of eppendorff, a former friend who followed hutten on his quarrel with erasmus. [ ] erasmus stated in the _responsio_ of august , that in the reformed schools little was taught beyond _dogmata et linguae_ and it may be some such criticism, based on what he had heard from a reliable source (perhaps pirckheimer at nuremberg), to which bucer had taken exception in his letter. [ ] alfonso valdes ( ?- ), a devoted admirer of erasmus, was from onwards one of charles v's secretaries. he wrote two dialogues in defence of the emperor. [ ] on this gem see edgar wind, 'aenigma termini,' in _journ. of the warburg institute_, i ( - ), p. . [ ] greek god of ridicule. [ ] livy, i, , . livy refers to the clearing of the tarpeian rock by tarquinius superbus ( - b.c.), involving the deconsecration of existing shrines, as a preliminary to the building of the temple of juppiter capitolinus. the auguries allowed the evacuation of the other gods, terminus and juventas alone refusing to depart. [ ] livy, , , . [ ] see p. . [ ] preface to _t. livii ... historiæ_, basle, froben, . charles blount (b. ), eldest son of william blount, lord mountjoy. [ ] _c._ - , professor of greek at basle, . he found the ms. containing livy, bks. - , in . [ ] not 'illuminated.' erasmus refers elsewhere (allen . ) to a codex as _non scripto sed picto_. [ ] the ms., now lost, containing bks. , - and , - , found in the cathedral library at mainz, published in mainz, j. schoeffer, november . [ ] ( ?- ). taught latin and greek at freiburg and became head of a college there; in became the first professor of latin in the collège de france. retired to coblenz in . [ ] by the edict of courcy. [ ] amos iii. . [ ] richard reynolds of the bridgettine syon college at isleworth. [ ] more had been executed july . [ ] lit. 'not even the peeping of an ass is safe.' this greek proverb, used of those who go to law about trifles, refers to the story of a potter whose wares were smashed by a donkey in the workshop going to look out of the window. in court the potter, asked of what he complained, replied: 'of the peeping of an ass.' see apuleius, _met._ ix., . list of illustrations i. portrait of erasmus. by quentin metsys. . rome, galleria corsini. _facing p. _ one half of a diptych, the pendant being a portrait of erasmus's friend, pierre gilles (petrus aegidius), town clerk of antwerp. the diptych was sent to sir thomas more in london; the portrait of gilles is now in the collection of the earl of radnor at longford castle. ii. view of rotterdam at the beginning of the sixteenth century. contemporary engraving, hand-coloured. _facing p. _ iii. portrait bust of john colet, dean of st. paul's ( - ). by pietro torrigiano. st. paul's school, hammersmith, london. _facing p. _ john colet, a close friend of erasmus (see pp. - ), founded st. paul's school. the artist, a florentine sculptor, was active in london for many years and is best known for his effigies on some of the royal tombs in westminster abbey. the attribution of this bust is due to f. grossmann (_journal of the warburg and courtauld institutes_, xiii, july ), who identified it as a cast from torrigiano's original bust on colet's tomb (destroyed in the great fire of ) and also pointed out that holbein's drawing of colet in the royal library at windsor castle (no. ) was made from the lost monument after colet's death. iv. portrait of sir thomas more ( - ). dated . by hans holbein. new york, frick collection. _facing p. _ see also holbein's drawing of thomas more with his family, pl. xxix. v. pen and ink sketches by erasmus. . basle, university library (ms a. ix. ). _facing p. _ these doodles of grotesque heads and other scribbles are found in erasmus's manuscript copy of the _scholia to the letters of st. jerome_, preserved in the library of basle university and published by emil major (_handzeichnungen des erasmus von rotterdam_, basle, ). erasmus worked on this manuscript shortly after his arrival in basle in august . his edition of the _letters of jerome_ was published by froben in (see p. ). vi. a manuscript page of erasmus. basle, university library. _facing p. _ see note on pl. v. vii. title-page of the _adagia_, printed by aldus manutius in . _facing p. _ the printing of this edition was supervised by erasmus during his visit to venice (see pp. - ). on this title-page is the emblem of the aldine press, which is found again on the reverse of aldus's portrait medal (pl. ix). viii. view of venice, . woodcut. _after p. _ from schedel's _weltchronik_, nuremberg, . ix. portrait medal of aldus manutius. by an unknown venetian medallist. venice, museo correr. _after p. _ on the reverse, the emblem adopted by aldus in from an antique coin, an anchor entwined by a dolphin. the greek inscription, [greek: speude bradeos] (hasten slowly), is also of antique origin. cf. hill, _corpus of italian medals_, , no. . x. a page from the printed copy of the _praise of folly_ with a drawing by hans holbein. basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ this copy of the _laus stultitiae_, which holbein decorated with marginal drawings in , belonged at that time to oswald myconius, a friend of froben's. apparently not all the drawings in the book are by hans holbein. the drawing shows erasmus working at his desk, fol. s. recto. above this thumbnail sketch there is a latin note in the handwriting of myconius: 'when erasmus came here and saw this portrait, he exclaimed, "heigh-ho, if erasmus still looked like that, he would quickly find himself a wife!"' xi. a page from the printed copy of the _praise of folly_ with a drawing by hans holbein. basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ see note on pl. x. this is the last page of the book, fol. x. recto; the drawing shows folly descending from the pulpit at the close of her discourse. xii. the printing press of josse badius. woodcut by albrecht dürer, - . _facing p. _ josse badius of brabant had established in paris the ascensian press (named after his native place, assche); he printed many books by erasmus. see pp. , - . xiii. portrait of johannes froben ( - ). by hans holbein. about - . hampton court, h.m. the queen. _facing p. _ on this portrait of erasmus's printer, publisher and friend, see paul ganz, _the paintings of hans holbein_, , cat. no. . xiv. design for the printer's emblem of johannes froben. tempera on canvas, heightened with gold. by hans holbein. . basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ the emblem shows the wand of mercury, and two serpents with a dove, an allusion to the gospel of st. matthew, x. : 'be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' xv. the hands of erasmus. drawing by hans holbein. . paris, louvre. _facing p. _ these studies were used by holbein for his portraits of erasmus now at longford castle (pl. xvi) and in the louvre (pl. xxviii). xvi. portrait of erasmus at the age of . dated . by hans holbein. longford castle, earl of radnor. _facing p. _ the greek inscription, 'the labours of hercules', alludes to erasmus's own view of his life (see p. ). on this portrait see p. ganz, op. cit., cat. no. . xvii. view of basle. woodcut. _facing p. _ from the _chronik_ by johann stumpf, . xviii. title-page of the new testament, printed by froben in . designed by hans holbein. _facing p. _ xix. the erasmus house at anderlecht near brussels. _facing p. _ from may to november erasmus stayed here as the guest of his friend, the canon pierre wichmann. the house was built in under the sign of the swan. it is now a museum in which are preserved numerous relics of erasmus and his age. xx. the room used by erasmus as study during his stay at anderlecht. _facing p. _ xxi. portrait of martin luther as a monk. engraving by lucas cranach. . _facing p. _ xxii. portrait of ulrich von hutten ( - ). anonymous german woodcut. _facing p. _ xxiii. the house 'zum walfisch' at freiburg-im-breisgau. _facing p. _ when erasmus arrived in freiburg in , he was invited by the town council to live in this house, which had been built for the emperor maximilian. see p. . xxiv. portrait of cardinal hieronymus aleander. drawing. arras, library. _facing p. _ one of the portrait drawings collected in the codex known as the _recueil d'arras_. xxv. portrait of erasmus. by hans holbein. - . basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ 'holbein may have painted this little roundel on the occasion of a visit to erasmus at freiburg' (p. ganz, op. cit.). xxvi. erasmus dictating to his secretary. woodcut, . _facing p. _ the woodcut shows the aged erasmus dictating to his amanuensis gilbertus cognatus in a room of the university of freiburg. from _effigies desiderii erasmi roterdami ... & gilberti cognati nozereni_, basle, joh. oporinus, . xxvii. portrait medal of erasmus. by quentin metsys. . london, british museum. _facing p. _ the reverse shows erasmus's device, terminus, and the motto _concedo nulli_, both of which were also engraved on his sealing ring. for erasmus's own interpretation see his letter, pp. - . the greek inscription means, 'his writings will give you a better picture of him'. xxviii. portrait of erasmus. after . by hans holbein. paris, louvre. _facing p. _ xxix. thomas more and his family. pen and ink sketch by hans holbein, . basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ 'the portrait, probably commissioned on the occasion of the scholar's fiftieth birthday, shows him surrounded by his large family. it is the first example of an intimate group portrait not of devotional or ceremonial character painted this side of the alps. at that time thomas more was living in his country house at chelsea with his second wife, alice, his father, his only son and his son's fiancée, three married daughters, eleven grandchildren and a relative, margaret giggs. the artist, who had been recommended to him by his friend erasmus, was also enjoying his hospitality.' (p. ganz, op. cit., cat. no. ). the original painting is lost; a copy by richard locky, dated , is at nostell priory. the drawing was sent by more to erasmus at basle so as to introduce his family, for which purpose the names and ages were inscribed. in two letters to sir thomas and his daughter, dated and september , erasmus sent his enthusiastic thanks: 'i cannot put into words the deep pleasure i felt when the painter holbein gave me the picture of your whole family, which is so completely successful that i should scarcely be able to see you better if i were with you.' (allen, vol. , nos. - ). compare also erasmus's pen portrait of sir thomas more in his letter to hutten, pp. - . xxx. portrait of erasmus. charcoal drawing by albrecht dürer, dated . paris, louvre. _facing p. _ drawn at antwerp, during dürer's journey to the netherlands. when he received the false news of the murder of luther at whitsuntide , dürer wrote in his diary: 'o erasmus of rotterdam, where art thou? listen, thou knight of christ, ride out with the lord christ, defend the truth and earn for thyself the martyr's crown!' xxxi. portrait of erasmus. engraving by albrecht dürer, dated . _facing p. _ in his _diary of a journey to the netherlands_, dürer noted in late august : 'i have taken erasmus of rotterdam's portrait once more', but he does not say when he took his first portrait. the earlier work is assumed to have been done one month before, and to be identical with the drawing in the louvre (pl. xxx). this drawing is mentioned by erasmus himself in a letter to pirckheimer of (p. ); in an earlier letter to the same friend ( ) he says that dürer had started to paint him in . the second portrait drawing is lost; hence it cannot be proved that this second portrait was made in metal point--as is usually assumed--and not in charcoal, or that the engraving here reproduced was based on it. xxxii. terminus. erasmus's device. pen and ink drawing by hans holbein. basle, Öffentliche kunstsammlung (print room). _facing p. _ _frontispiece_: decorative portrait of erasmus with his device, terminus. engraving by hans holbein, . acknowledgements for help in the collection of illustrations we are specially indebted to m. daniel van damme, curator of the erasmus museum at anderlecht and author of the _ephéméride illustrée de la vie d'erasme_, published in on the occasion of the fourth centenary of erasmus's death. for photographs and permission to reproduce we have to thank also the frick collection, new york (pl. iv), the Öffentliche kunstsammlung, basle (pl. x-xi, xiv, xxv, xxix, xxxii), the library of basle university (pl. v-vi), and the warburg institute, university of london (pl. iii). the photographs for pl. ii, vii, xviii-xx and xxvi are by m. mauhin, anderlecht, those for plates viii and xvii by dr. f. stoedtner, düsseldorf, and that for plate ix by fiorentini, venice. index of names adrian of utrecht, dean, later pope, , , agricola, rudolf, albert of brandenburg, archbishop of mayence, , aldus manutius, , , , aleander, hieronymus, , , , , , , alidosi, francesco, n. amerbach, bonifacius, , , n. amerbach, johannes, , ammonius, andrew, , , , , , , , , , , , , , andrelinus, faustus, , , , , anna of borselen, lady of veere, , , , , , , , - asolani, andrea, ath, jean briard of, , , , , , aurelius (cornelius gerard of gouda), , , , , badius, josse, , , , , , , , , , n. balbi, girolamo, barbaro, ermolao, batt, james, , , , , , , , , , , beatus rhenanus, , , , , , , , , , , becar, john, beda (noel bedier), , , , bembo, ber, louis, , berckman, francis, , bergen, anthony of, , berquin, louis de, berselius, paschasius, blount, charles, blount, william, lord mountjoy, - , , , , , , n., , , , , , , , , , boerio, giovanni battista, bombasius, paul, bouts, dirck, boys, hector, brie, germain de, bucer (butzer), martin, , budaeus, william, , , , , , , , , , , , , , busch, hermann, busleiden, francis of, archbishop of besançon, , busleiden, jerome, cajetanus, calvin, , , caminade, augustine, , , , canossa, count, capito, wolfgang fabricius, , , , , , , , catherine of aragon, charles v, , , , - , charnock, prior, cinicampius, _see_ eschenfelder clement vii, clyfton, tutor, cochleus, colet, john, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , cop, william, , , , cornelius, _see_ aurelius cratander, david of burgundy, bishop of utrecht, decanus, denk, hans, dirks, vincent, , , , dobeneck, john, _see_ cochleus dorp, martin van, , , , , , dürer, albrecht, - , , n. eck, johannes, , egmond, nicholas of (egmondanus), , , , , , , egnatius, baptista, episcopius, nicholas, eppendorff, henry of, , , , eschenfelder, christopher, , Étienne, _see_ stephanus faber, _see_ lefèvre farel, guillaume, , ferdinand, archduke, ficino, marsilio, filelfo, francesco, fisher, john, bishop of rochester, , , , , , , n. fisher, robert, , , , flaminius, john, foxe, richard, , francis i, , , , , - frederick of saxony, , , froben, johannes, , , , , , , , , , , , , n., froben, johannes erasmius, , , fugger, anthony, gaguin, robert, , , , , gallinarius, gebwiler, george of saxony, gerard, cornelius, _see_ aurelius gerard, erasmus's father, gerbel, gigli, silvestro, bishop of worcester, gilles, peter, , , , , , , , glareanus, henri (loriti), , , gourmont, gilles, , , , n. grey, thomas, , grimani, domenico, , n., , grocyn, william, , , , groote, geert grunnius, lambertus, grynaeus, simon, guibé, robert, bishop of nantes, n. hegius, alexander, henry of bergen, bishop of cambray, , , , , , , , henry vii, , , henry viii, , , , , , , , , , , , hermans, william, , , , , , , , , , hermonymus, george, n. holbein, hans, , , , n., n. hollonius, lambert, hoogstraten, jacob, hutten, ulrich von, , , , , - , , , , james iv, , john of trazegnies, n. julius ii, , , , , , karlstadt, andreas, lachner, lang, john, , , langenfeld, john, lascaris, johannes, lasco, johannes a, latimer, william, , latomus, bartholomew, latomus, james, , , laurin, mark, lee, edward, , , , , , , , lefèvre d'Étaples, jacques, , , , , leo, ambrose, leo x, , , , , , , , , leonicenus, nicholas, linacre, thomas, , , , , , longolius, christopher, , loriti, _see_ glareanus loyola, ignatius of, lupset, n., luther, martin, , , , , , , , - , , - , , , , , , , lypsius, martin, , lyra, nicholas of, maertensz, dirck, , , , , manutius, _see_ aldus mary of hungary, , maternus, matthias, maximilian, emperor, , , , , , , medici, giovanni de', _see_ leo x melanchthon, , , , , , metsys, quentin, , n. more, thomas, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , mountjoy, _see_ blount musurus, marcus, mutianus, neuenahr, hermann count of, , northoff, brothers, , obrecht, johannes, oecolampadius, , , , , , , osiander, pace, richard, , paludanus, johannes, paracelsus, theophrastus, paul iii, , , peter gerard, erasmus's brother, - phileticus, martin, n. philip le beau, , n. philippi, john, pico della mirandola, pio, alberto, , , pirckheimer, willibald, , , , platter, thomas, politian, poncher, Étienne, , probst (proost), james, n. reuchlin, , , , reynolds, richard, n. riario, raffaele, , n. roger, _see_ gerard rombout, rudolfingen, ruell, john, sadolet, , , , , sapidus, johannes, sasboud, sauvage, john le, scaliger, schürer, m., , n., n., servatius roger, , , , , , , , , , , sixtin, john, sluter, spalatinus, george, stadion, christopher of, bishop of augsburg, standonck, john, , , stephanus, henricus, n. stewart, alexander, archbishop of st. andrews, , , stewart, james, n. stunica, _see_ zuñiga suderman, , synthen, johannes, talesius, quirin, , tapper, ruurd, theodoric, thomas à kempis, , tunstall, cuthbert, , , , , , urswick, utenheim, christopher of, bishop of basle, , utenhove, charles, , valdes, alfonso, valla, lorenzo, , , , varnbüler, ulrich, veere, _see_ anna of borselen vianen, william of, vincent, augustine, vitrier, jean, , vives, , voecht, jacobus, warham, william, archbishop of canterbury, , , , , , , , , watson, john, werner, nicholas, , william of orange, wimpfeling, jacob, , winckel, peter, woerden, cornelius of, wolsey, cardinal, , , , , n. ximenes, f., archbishop of toledo, , , , n. zasius, ulrich, , , , , zuñiga, diego lopez, zwingli, ulrich, , , , , transcriber's note: in the original book, its various chapters' subsections were denoted with the "section" symbol (§). in this e-text, that symbol has been replaced with the word "section". where two of these symbols were together, they have been replaced with the word "sections". footnotes have been moved to the end of the section they appear in, rather than to the end of the chapter containing that section. the original book had many side-notes in its pages' left or right margin areas. some of these sidenotes were at the beginning of a paragraph, some were placed elsewhere alongside a paragraph, in relation to what the sidenote referred to inside the paragraph. in this e-text, sidenotes that appeared at the beginning of a paragraph in the original book are placed to precede their reference paragraph. all other sidenotes have been enclosed in square brackets and placed into the paragraph near where they were in the original book. some of the dates in this book are accompanied by a small dagger or sword symbol, signifying the person's year of death. since this symbol doesn't exist in the ascii character set, i've substituted "d." for it. page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in curly braces, e.g. { }. they have been located where page breaks occurred in the original book. this has been done only in the book's main chapters (i-xiv), not its front matter. for its bibliography and its index, page numbers have been placed only at the start of each of those two sections. the age of the reformation by preserved smith, ph.d. new york henry holt and company american historical series general editor charles h. haskins professor of history in harvard university copyright, by henry holt and company vit cariori filiolae priscillae sacrum preface the excuse for writing another history of the reformation is the need for putting that movement in its proper relations to the economic and intellectual revolutions of the sixteenth century. the labor of love necessary for the accomplishment of this task has employed most of my leisure for the last six years and has been my companion through vicissitudes of sorrow and of joy. a large part of the pleasure derived from the task has come from association with friends who have generously put their time and thought at my disposal. first of all, professor charles h. haskins, of harvard, having read the whole in manuscript and in proof with care, has thus given me the unstinted benefit of his deep learning, and of his ripe and sane judgment. next to him the book owes most to my kind friend, the rev. professor william walker rockwell, of union seminary, who has added to the many other favors he has done me a careful revision of chapters i to viii, chapter xiv, and a part of chapter ix. though unknown to me personally, the rev. dr. peter guilday, of the catholic university of washington, consented, with gracious, characteristic urbanity, to read chapters vi and viii and a part of chapter i. i am grateful to professor n. s. b. gras, of the university of minnesota, for reading that part of the book directly concerned with economics (chapter xi and a part of chapter x); and to professor frederick a. saunders, of harvard, for a like service in technical revision of the section on science in chapter xii. while acknowledging with hearty thanks the priceless services of these eminent scholars, it is only fair to relieve them of all responsibility for any rash statements that may have escaped their scrutiny, as well as for any conclusions from which they might dissent. for information about manuscripts and rare books in europe my thanks are due to my kind friends: mr. p. s. allen, librarian of merton college, oxford, the so successful editor of erasmus's epistles; and professor carrington lancaster, of johns hopkins university. to several libraries i owe much for the use of books. my friend, professor robert s. fletcher, librarian of amherst college, has often sent me volumes from that excellent store of books. my sister, professor winifred smith, of vassar college, has added to many loving services, this: that during my four years at poughkeepsie, i was enabled to use the vassar library. for her good offices, as well as for the kindness of the librarian, miss amy reed, my thanks. my father, the rev. dr. henry preserved smith, professor and librarian at union theological seminary, has often sent me rare books from that library; nor can i mention this, the least of his favors, without adding that i owe to him much both of the inspiration to follow and of the means to pursue a scholar's career. my thanks are also due to the libraries of columbia and cornell for the use of books. but the work could not easily have been done at all without the facilities offered by the harvard library. when i came to cambridge to enjoy the riches of this storehouse, i found the great university not less hospitable to the stranger within her gates than she is prolific in great sons. after i was already deep in debt to the librarian, mr. w. c. lane, and to many of the professors, a short period in the service of harvard, as lecturer in history, has made me feel that i am no longer a stranger, but that i can count myself, in some sort, one of her citizens and foster sons, at least a dimidiatus alumnus. this book owes more to my wife than even she perhaps quite realizes. not only has it been her study, since our marriage, to give me freedom for my work, but her literary advice, founded on her own experience as writer and critic, has been of the highest value, and she has carefully read the proofs. preserved smith. cambridge, massachusetts, may , . contents page chapter i. the old and the new . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the world. economic changes in the later middle ages. rise of the bourgeoisie. nationalism. individualism. inventions. printing. exploration. universities. . the church. the papacy. the councils of constance and basle. savonarola. . causes of the reformation. corruption of the church not a main cause. condition of the church. indulgences. growth of a new type of lay piety. clash of the new spirit with old ideals. . the mystics. _the german theology_. tauler. _the imitation of christ_. . the pre-reformers. waldenses. occam. wyclif. huss. . nationalizing the churches. the ecclesia anglicana. the gallican church. german church. the gravamina. . the humanists. valla. pico della mirandola. lefèvre d'Étaples. colet. reuchlin. _epistolae obscurorum virorum_. hutten. erasmus. chapter ii. germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the leader. luther's early life. justification by faith only. _the ninety-five theses_. the leipzig debate. revolutionary pamphlets of . . the revolution. condition of germany. maximilian i. charles v. the bull _exsurge domine_ burned by luther. luther at worms and in the wartburg. turmoil of the radicals. the revolt of the knights. efforts at reform at the diets of nuremberg - . the peasants' revolt: economic causes, propaganda, course of the war, suppression. . formation of the protestant party. defection of the radicals: the anabaptists. defection of the intellectuals: erasmus. the sacramentarian schism: zwingli. growth of the lutheran party among the upper and middle classes. luther's ecclesiastical polity. accession of many free cities, of ernestine saxony, hesse, prussia. balance of power. the recess of spires ; the protest. . growth of protestantism until the death of luther. diet of augsburg : the confession. accessions to the protestant cause. religious negotiations. luther's last years, death and character. . religious war and religious peace. the schmalkaldic war. the interim. the peace of augsburg . catholic reaction and protestant schisms. . note on scandinavia, poland and hungary. chapter iii. switzerland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . zwingli. the swiss confederacy. preparation for the reformation. zwingli's early life. reformation at zurich. defeat of cappel. . calvin. farel. calvin's early life. _the institutes of the christian religion_. reformation at geneva. theocracy. the libertines. servetus. character and influence of calvin. chapter iv. france . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . renaissance and reformation. condition of france. francis i. war with charles. the christian renaissance. lutheranism. defection of the humanists. . the calvinist party. henry ii. expansion of france. growth and persecution of calvinism. . the wars of religion. catharine de' médicis. massacre of vassy. the huguenot rebellion. massacre of st. bartholomew. the league. henry iv. edict of nantes. failure of protestantism to conquer france. chapter v. the netherlands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the lutheran reform. the burgundian state. origins of the reformation. persecution. the anabaptists. . the calvinist revolt. national feeling against spain. financial difficulties of philip ii. egmont and william of orange. the new bishoprics. the compromise. the "beggars." alva's reign of terror. requesens. siege of leyden. the revolt of the north. division of the netherlands. farnese. the dutch republic. chapter vi. england . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . henry viii and the national church. character of henry viii. foreign policy. wolsey. early lutheranism. tyndale's new testament. tracts. anticlerical feeling. divorce of catharine of aragon. the submission of the clergy. the reformation parliament - . act in restraint of appeals. act of succession. act of supremacy. cranmer. execution of more. thomas cromwell. dissolution of the monasteries. union of england and wales. alliance with the schmalkaldic league. articles of faith. the pilgrimage of grace. catholic reaction. war. bankruptcy. . the reformation under edward vi. somerset regent. repeal of the treason and heresy laws. rapid growth of protestant opinion. the book of common prayer. social disorders. conspiracy of northumberland and suffolk. . the catholic reaction under mary. proclamation of queen jane. accession and policy of mary. repeal of reforming acts. revival of treason laws. the protestant martyrs. . the elizabethan settlement - . policy of elizabeth. respective numbers of catholics and protestants. conversion of the masses. _the thirty-nine articles_. the church of england. underhand war with spain. rebellion of the northern earls. execution of mary stuart. the armada. the puritans. . ireland. chapter vii. scotland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . backward condition of scotland. relations with england. cardinal beaton. john knox. battle of pinkie. knox in scotland. the common band. iconoclasm. treaty of edinburgh. the religious revolution. confession of faith. queen mary's crimes and deposition. results of the reformation. chapter viii. the counter-reformation . . . . . . . . . . . italy. the pagan renaissance; the christian renaissance. sporadic lutheranism. . the papacy - . the sack of rome. reforms. . the council of trent. first period ( - ). second period ( - ). third period ( - ). results. . the company of jesus. new monastic orders. loyola. _the spiritual exercises_. rapid growth and successes of the jesuits. their final failure. . the inquisition and the index. the medieval inquisition. the spanish inquisition. the roman inquisition. censorship of the press. _the index of prohibited books_. chapter ix. the iberian peninsula and the expansion of europe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . spain. unification of spain under ferdinand and isabella. charles v. revolts of the communes and of the hermandad. constitution of spain. the spanish empire. philip ii. the war with the moriscos. the armada. . exploration. columbus. conquest of mexico and of peru. circumnavigation of the globe. portuguese exploration to the east. brazil. decadence of portugal. russia. the turks. chapter x. social conditions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . population. . wealth and prices. increase of wealth in modern times. prices and wages in the sixteenth century. value of money. trend of prices. . social institutions. the monarchy, the council of state, the parliament. public finance. maintenance of order. sumptuary laws and "blue laws." the army. the navy. . private life and manners. the nobility; the professions; the clergy. the city, the house, dress, food, drink. sports. manners. morals. position of women. health. chapter xi. the capitalistic revolution . . . . . . . . . . the rise of the power of money. rise of capitalism. banking. mining. commerce. manufacture. agriculture. . the rise of the money power. ascendancy of the bourgeoisie over the nobility, clergy, and proletariat. class wars. regulation of labor. pauperism. chapter xii. main currents of thought . . . . . . . . . . biblical and classical scholarship. greek and hebrew bibles. translations. the classics. the vernaculars. . history. humanistic history and church history. . political theory. the state as power: machiavelli. constitutional liberty: erasmus, luther, calvin, hotman, mornay, bodin, buchanan. radicals: the _utopia_. . science. inductive method. mathematics. zoölogy. anatomy. physics. geography. astronomy; copernicus. reform of the calendar. . philosophy. the catholic and protestant thinkers. skeptics. effect of the copernican theory: bruno. chapter xiii. the temper of the times . . . . . . . . . . tolerance and intolerance. effect of the renaissance and reformation. . witchcraft. causes of the mania. protests against it. . education. schools. effect of the reformation. universities. . art. the ideals expressed. painting. architecture. music. effect of the reformation and counter-reformation. . reading. number of books. typical themes. greatness of the sixteenth century. chapter xiv. the reformation interpreted . . . . . . . . the religious and political interpretations. burnet, bossuet, sleidan, sarpi. . the rationalist critique. montesquieu, voltaire, robertson, hume, gibbon, goethe, lessing. . the liberal-romantic appreciation. heine, michelet, froude, hegel, ranke, buckle. . the economic and evolutionary interpretations. marx, lamprecht, berger, weber, nietzsche, troeltsch, santayana, harnack, beard, janssen, pastor, acton. . concluding estimate. bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . { } the age of the reformation chapter i the old and the new section . the world. though in some sense every age is one of transition and every generation sees the world remodelled, there sometimes comes a change so startling and profound that it seems like the beginning of a new season in the world's great year. the snows of winter melt for weeks, the cold winds blow and the cool rains fall, and we see no change until, almost within a few days, the leaves and blossoms put forth their verdure, and the spring has come. such a change in man's environment and habits as the world has rarely seen, took place in the generation that reached early manhood in the year . [sidenote: - ] in the span of a single life--for convenience let us take that of luther for our measure--men discovered, not in metaphor but in sober fact, a new heaven and a new earth. in those days masses of men began to read many books, multiplied by the new art of printing. in those days immortal artists shot the world through with a matchless radiance of color and of meaning. in those days vasco da gama and columbus and magellan opened the watery ways to new lands beyond the seven seas. in those days copernicus established the momentous truth that the earth was but a tiny planet spinning around a vastly greater sun. in those days was in large part accomplished the economic shift from medieval gild to modern production by capital and wages. in those days wealth was piled up in the coffers of the merchants, and a new power was { } given to the life of the individual, of the nation, and of the third estate. in those days the monarchy of the roman church was broken, and large portions of her dominions seceded to form new organizations, governed by other powers and animated by a different spirit. [sidenote: antecedents of the reformation] other generations have seen one revolution take place at a time, the sixteenth century saw three, the rise of capitalism, the end of the renaissance, and the beginning of the reformation. all three, interacting, modifying each other, conflicting as they sometimes did, were equally the consequences, in different fields, of antecedent changes in man's circumstances. all life is an adaptation to environment; and thus from every alteration in the conditions in which man lives, usually made by his discovery of new resources or of hitherto unknown natural laws, a change in his habits of life must flow. every revolution is but an adjustment to a fresh situation, intellectual or material, or both. [sidenote: economic] certainly, economic and psychological factors were alike operative in producing the three revolutions. the most general economic force was the change from "natural economy" to "money economy," _i.e._ from a society in which payments were made chiefly by exchange of goods, and by services, to one in which money was both the agent of exchange and standard of value. in the middle ages production had been largely co-operative; the land belonged to the village and was apportioned out to each husbandman to till, or to all in common for pasture. manufacture and commerce were organized by the gild--a society of equals, with the same course of labor and the same reward for each, and with no distinction save that founded on seniority--apprentice, workman, master-workman. but { } in the later middle ages, and more rapidly at their close, this system broke down under the necessity for larger capital in production and the possibility of supplying it by the increase of wealth and of banking technique that made possible investment, rapid turn-over of capital, and corporate partnership. the increase of wealth and the changed mode of its production has been in large part the cause of three developments which in their turn became causes of revolution: the rise of the bourgeoisie, of nationalism, and of individualism. [sidenote: the bourgeoisie] just as the nobles were wearing away in civil strife and were seeing their castles shot to pieces by cannon, just as the clergy were wasting in supine indolence and were riddled by the mockery of humanists, there arose a new class, eager and able to take the helm of civilization, the moneyed men of city and of trade. _nouveaux riches_ as they were, they had an appetite for pleasure and for ostentation unsurpassed by any, a love for the world and an impatience of the meek and lowly church, with her ideal of poverty and of chastity. in their luxurious and leisured homes they sheltered the arts that made life richer and the philosophy, or religion, that gave them a good conscience in the work they loved. both renaissance and reformation were dwellers in the cities and in the marts of commerce. [sidenote: national states] it was partly the rise of the third estate, but partly also cultural factors, such as the perfecting of the modern tongues, that made the national state one of the characteristic products of modern times. commerce needs order and strong government; the men who paid the piper called the tune; police and professional soldiery made the state, once so racked by feudal wars, peaceful at home and dreaded abroad. if the consequence of this was an increase in royal power, the kings were among those who had greatness thrust upon them, rather than achieving it for themselves. { } they were but the symbols of the new, proudly conscious nation, and the police commissioners of the large bankers and traders. [sidenote: individualism] the reaction of nascent capitalism on the individual was no less marked than on state and society, though it was not the only cause of the new sense of personal worth. just as the problems of science and of art became most alluring, the man with sufficient leisure and resource to solve them was developed by economic forces. in the middle ages men had been less enterprising and less self-conscious. their thought was not of themselves as individuals so much as of their membership in groups. the peoples were divided into well-marked estates, or classes; industry was co-operative; even the great art of the cathedrals was rather gild-craft than the expression of a single genius; even learning was the joint property of universities, not the private accumulation of the lone scholar. but with every expansion of the ego either through the acquisition of wealth or of learning or of pride in great exploits, came a rising self-consciousness and self-confidence, and this was the essence of the individualism so often noted as one of the contrasts between modern and medieval times. the child, the savage, and to a large extent the undisciplined mind in all periods of life and of history, is conscious only of object; the trained and leisured intellect discovers, literally by "reflection," the subjective. he is then no longer content to be anything less than himself, or to be lost in anything greater. just as men were beginning again to glory in their own powers came a series of discoveries that totally transformed the world they lived in. so vast a change is made in human thought and habit by some apparently trivial technical inventions that it sometimes { } seems as if the race were like a child that had boarded a locomotive and half accidentally started it, but could neither guide nor stop it. civilization was born with the great inventions of fire, tools, the domestication of [sidenote: inventions] animals, writing, and navigation, all of them, together with important astronomical discoveries, made prior to the beginnings of recorded history. on this capital mankind traded for some millenniums, for neither classic times nor the dark ages added much to the practical sciences. but, beginning with the thirteenth century, discovery followed discovery, each more important in its consequences than its last. one of the first steps was perhaps the recovery of lost ground by the restoration of the classics. gothic art and the vernacular literatures testify to the intellectual activity of the time, but they did not create the new elements of life that were brought into being by the inventors. what a difference in private life was made by the introduction of chimneys and glass windows, for glass, though known to antiquity, was not commonly applied to the openings that, as the etymology of the english word implies, let in the wind! by the fifteenth century the power of lenses to magnify and refract had been utilized, as mirrors, then as spectacles, to be followed two centuries later by telescopes and microscopes. useful chemicals were now first applied to various manufacturing processes, such as the tinning of iron. the compass, with its weird power of pointing north, guided the mariner on uncharted seas. the obscure inventor of gunpowder revolutionized the art of war more than all the famous conquerors had done, and the polity of states more than any of the renowned legislators of antiquity. the equally obscure inventor of mechanical clocks--a great improvement on the { } older sand-glasses, water-glasses, and candles--made possible a new precision and regularity of daily life, an untold economy of time and effort. [sidenote: printing] but all other inventions yield to that of printing, the glory of john gutenberg of mayence, one of those poor and in their own times obscure geniuses who carry out to fulfilment a great idea at much sacrifice to themselves. the demand for books had been on the increase for a long time, and every effort was made to reproduce them as rapidly and cheaply as possible by the hand of expert copyists, but the applications of this method produced slight result. the introduction of paper, in place of the older vellum or parchment, furnished one of the indispensable pre-requisites to the multiplication of cheap volumes. in the early fifteenth century, the art of the wood-cutter and engraver had advanced sufficiently to allow some books to be printed in this manner, _i.e._ from carved blocks. this was usually, or at first, done only with books in which a small amount of text went with a large amount of illustration. there are extant, for example, six editions of the _biblia pauperum_, stamped by this method. it was afterwards applied, chiefly in holland, to a few other books for which there was a large demand, the latin grammar of donatus, for example, and a guide-book to rome known as the _mirabilia urbis romae_. but at best this method was extremely unsatisfactory; the blocks soon wore out, the text was blurred and difficult to read, the initial expense was large. the essential feature of gutenberg's invention was therefore not, as the name implies, printing, or impression, but typography, or the use of type. the printer first had a letter cut in hard metal, this was called the punch; with it he stamped a mould known as the { } matrix in which he was able to found a large number of exactly identical types of metal, usually of lead. these, set side by side in a case, for the first time made it possible satisfactorily to print at reasonable cost a large number of copies of the same text, and, when that was done, the types could be taken apart and used for another work. the earliest surviving specimen of printing--not counting a few undated letters of indulgence--is a fragment on the last judgment completed at mayence before . in gutenberg made a partnership with the rich goldsmith john fust, and from their press issued, within the next five years, the famous bible with lines to a page, and a donatus (latin grammar) of lines. the printer of the bible with lines to a page, that is the next oldest surviving monument, was apparently a helper of gutenberg, who set up an independent press in . legible, clean-cut, comparatively cheap, these books demonstrated once for all the success of the new art, even though, for illuminated initials, they were still dependent on the hand of the scribe. [sidenote: books and reading] in those days before patents the new invention spread with wonderful rapidity, reaching italy in , paris in , london in , stockholm in , constantinople in , lisbon in , and madrid in . only a few backward countries of europe remained without a press. by the year the names of more than one thousand printers are known, and the titles of about , printed works. assuming that the editions were small, averaging copies, there would have been in europe by about , , books, as against the few score thousand manuscripts that lately had held all the precious lore of time. in a few years the price of books sank to one-eighth of what it had been before. "the gentle reader" had started on his career. { } the importance of printing cannot be over-estimated. there are few events like it in the history of the world. the whole gigantic swing of modern democracy and of the scientific spirit was released by it. the veil of the temple of religion and of knowledge was rent in twain, and the arcana of the priest and clerk exposed to the gaze of the people. the reading public became the supreme court before whom, from this time, all cases must be argued. the conflict of opinions and parties, of privilege and freedom, of science and obscurantism, was transferred from the secret chamber of a small, privileged, professional, and sacerdotal coterie to the arena of the reading public. [sidenote: exploration] it is amazing, but true, that within fifty years after this exploit, mankind should have achieved another like unto it in a widely different sphere. the horror of the sea was on the ancient world; a heart of oak and triple bronze was needed to venture on the ocean, and its annihilation was one of the blessings of the new earth promised by the apocalypse. all through the centuries europe remained sea-locked, until the bold portuguese mariners venturing ever further and further south along the coast of africa, finally doubled the cape of good hope--a feat first performed by bartholomew diaz in , though it was not until that vasco da gama reached india by this method. still unconquered lay the stormy and terrible atlantic, "where, beyond the extreme sea-wall, and between the remote sea-gates, waste water washes, and tall ships founder, and deep death waits." but the ark of europe found her dove--as the name columbus signifies--to fly over the wild, western { } waves, and bring her news of strange countries. the effect of these discoveries, enormously and increasingly important from the material standpoint, was first felt in the widening of the imagination. camoens wrote the epic of da gama, more placed his utopia in america, and montaigne speculated on the curious customs of the redskins. ariosto wrote of the wonders of the new world in his poem, and luther occasionally alluded to them in his sermons. [sidenote: universities] if printing opened the broad road to popular education, other and more formal means to the same end were not neglected. one of the great innovations of the middle ages was the university. these permanent corporations, dedicated to the advancement of learning and the instruction of youth, first arose, early in the twelfth century, at salerno, at bologna and at paris. as off-shoots of these, or in imitation of them, many similar institutions sprang up in every land of western europe. the last half of the fifteenth century was especially rich in such foundations. in germany, from to , no less than nine new academies were started: greifswald , freiburg in the breisgau , basle , ingolstadt , trèves , mayence , tübingen , wittenberg , and frankfort on the oder . though generally founded by papal charter, and maintaining a strong ecclesiastical flavor, these institutions were under the direction of the civil government. in france three new universities opened their doors during the same period: valence , nantes , bourges . these were all placed under the general supervision of the local bishops. the great university of paris was gradually changing its character. from the most cosmopolitan and international of bodies it was fast becoming strongly nationalist, and was the chief center of an erastian gallicanism. its { } tremendous weight cast against the reformation was doubtless a chief reason for the failure of that movement in france. spain instituted seven new universities at this time: barcelona , saragossa , palma , sigüenza , alcalá , valencia , and seville . italy and england remained content with the academies they already had, but many of the smaller countries now started native universities. thus pressburg was founded in hungary in , upsala in sweden in , copenhagen in , glasgow in , and aberdeen in . the number of students in each foundation fluctuated, but the total was steadily on the increase. naturally, the expansion of the higher education brought with it an increase in the number and excellence of the schools. particularly notable is the work of the brethren of the common life, who devoted themselves almost exclusively to teaching boys. some of their schools, as deventer, attained a reputation like that of eton or rugby today. the spread of education was not only notable in itself, but had a more direct result in furnishing a shelter to new movements until they were strong enough to do without such support. it is significant that the reformations of wyclif, huss, and luther, all started in universities. [sidenote: growth of intelligence] as the tide rolls in, the waves impress one more than the flood beneath them. behind, and far transcending, the particular causes of this and that development lies the operation of great biological laws, selecting a type for survival, transforming the mind and body of men slowly but surely. whether due to the natural selection of circumstance, or to the inward urge of vital force, there seems to be no doubt that the average intellect, not of leading thinkers or of select groups, { } but of the european races as a whole, has been steadily growing greater at every period during which it can be measured. moreover, the monastic vow of chastity tended to sterilize and thus to eliminate the religiously-minded sort. operating over a long period, and on both sexes, this cause of the growing secularization of the world, though it must not be exaggerated, cannot be overlooked. section . the church over against "the world," "the church." . . . as the reformation was primarily a religious movement, some account of the church in the later middle ages must be given. how christianity was immaculately conceived in the heart of the galilean carpenter and born with words of beauty and power such as no other man ever spoke; how it inherited from him its background of jewish monotheism and hebrew scripture; how it was enriched, or sophisticated, by paul, who assimilated it to the current mysteries with their myth of a dying and rising god and of salvation by sacramental rite; how it decked itself in the white robes of greek philosophy and with many a gewgaw of ceremony and custom snatched from the flamen's vestry; how it created a pantheon of saints to take the place of the old polytheism; how it became first the chaplain and then the heir of the roman empire, building its church on the immovable rock of the eternal city, asserting like her a dominion without bounds of space or time; how it conquered and tamed the barbarians;--all this lies outside the scope of the present work to describe. but of its later fortunes some brief account must be given. [sidenote: innocent iii - ] by the year the popes, having emerged triumphant from their long strife with the german emperors, successfully asserted their claim to the { } suzerainty of all western europe. innocent iii took realms in fief and dictated to kings. the pope, asserting that the spiritual power was as much superior to the civil as the sun was brighter than the moon, acted as the vicegerent of god on earth. but this supremacy did not last long unquestioned. just a century after innocent iii, boniface viii [sidenote: boniface viii - ] was worsted in a quarrel with philip iv of france, and his successor, clement v, a frenchman, by transferring the papal capital to avignon, virtually made the supreme pontiffs subordinate to the french government and thus weakened their influence in the rest of europe. this "babylonian captivity" [sidenote: the babylonian captivity - ] was followed by a greater misfortune to the pontificate, the great schism, [sidenote: the great schism - ] for the effort to transfer the papacy back to rome led to the election of two popes, who, with their successors, respectively ruled and mutually anathematized each other from the two rival cities. the difficulty of deciding which was the true successor of peter was so great that not only were the kingdoms of europe divided in their allegiance, but doctors of the church and canonized saints could be found among the supporters of either line. there can be no doubt that respect for the pontificate greatly suffered by the schism, which was in some respects a direct preparation for the greater division brought about by the protestant secession. [sidenote: councils--pisa, , constance, - ] the attempt to end the schism at the council of pisa resulted only in the election of a third pope. the situation was finally dealt with by the council of constance which deposed two of the popes and secured the voluntary abdication of the third. the synod further strengthened the church by executing the heretics huss and jerome of prague, and by passing decrees intended to put the government of the church in the hands of representative assemblies. it asserted that it { } had power directly from christ, that it was supreme in matters of faith, and in matters of discipline so far as they affected the schism, and that the pope could not dissolve it without its own consent. by the decree _frequens_ it provided for the regular summoning of councils at short intervals. beyond this, other efforts to reform the morals of the clergy proved abortive, for after long discussion nothing of importance was done. for the next century the policy of the popes was determined by the wish to assert their superiority over the councils. the synod of basle [sidenote: basle - ] reiterated all the claims of constance, and passed a number of laws intended to diminish the papal authority and to deprive the pontiff of much of his ill-gotten revenues--annates, fees for investiture, and some other taxes. it was successful for a time because protected by the governments of france and germany, for, though dissolved by pope eugene iv in , it refused to listen to his command and finally extorted from him a bull ratifying the conciliar claims to supremacy. in the end, however, the popes triumphed. the bull _execrabilis_ [sidenote: ] denounced as a damnable abuse the appeal to a future council, and the _pastor aeternus_ [sidenote: ] reasserted in sweeping terms the supremacy of the pope, repealing all decrees of constance and basle to the contrary, as well as other papal bulls. [sidenote: the secularization of the papacy] at rome the popes came to occupy the position of princes of one of the italian states, and were elected, like the doges of venice, by a small oligarchy. within seventy years the families of borgia, piccolomini, rovere, and medici were each represented by more than one pontiff, and a majority of the others were nearly related by blood or marriage to one of these great stocks. the cardinals were appointed from the pontiff's sons or nephews, and the numerous other { } offices in their patronage, save as they were sold, were distributed to personal or political friends. like other italian princes the popes became, in the fifteenth century, distinguished patrons of arts and letters. the golden age of the humanists at rome began under nicholas v [sidenote: nicholas v - ] who employed a number of them to make translations from greek. it is characteristic of the complete secularization of the states of the church that a number of the literati pensioned by him were skeptics and scoffers. valla, who mocked the papacy, ridiculed the monastic orders, and attacked the bible and christian ethics, was given a prebend; savonarola, the most earnest christian of his age, was put to death. [sidenote: ] the fall of constantinople gave a certain european character to the policy of the pontiffs after that date, for the menace of the turk seemed so imminent that the heads of christendom did all that was possible to unite the nations in a crusade. this was the keynote of the statesmanship of calixtus iii [sidenote: calixtus iii - ] and of his successor, pius ii. [sidenote: pius ii - ] before his elevation to the see of peter this talented writer, known to literature as aeneas sylvius, had, at the council of basle, published a strong argument against the extreme papal claims, which he afterwards, as pope, retracted. his zeal against the turk and against his old friends the humanists lent a moral tone to his pontificate, but his feeble attempts to reform abuses were futile. [sidenote: paul ii - ] the colorless reign of paul ii was followed by that of sixtus iv, [sidenote: sixtus iv - ] a man whose chief passion was the aggrandizement of his family. he carried nepotism to an extreme and by a policy of judicial murder very nearly exterminated his rivals, the colonnas. [sidenote: innocent viii - ] the enormous bribes paid by innocent viii for his election were recouped by his sale of offices and spiritual graces, and by taking a tribute from the sultan, { } in return for which he refused to proclaim a crusade. the most important act of his pontificate was the publication of the bull against witchcraft. [sidenote: alexander vi - ] the name of alexander vi has attained an evil eminence of infamy on account of his own crimes and vices and those of his children, caesar borgia and lucretia. one proof that the public conscience of italy, instead of being stupified by the orgy of wickedness at rome was rather becoming aroused by it, is found in the appearance, just at this time, of a number of preachers of repentance. these men, usually friars, started "revivals" marked by the customary phenomena of sudden conversion, hysteria, and extreme austerity. the greatest of them all was the dominican jerome savonarola [sidenote: savonarola] who, though of mediocre intellectual gifts, by the passionate fervor of his convictions, attained the position of a prophet at florence. he began preaching here in , and so stirred his audiences that many wept and some were petrified with horror. his credit was greatly raised by his prediction of the invasion of charles viii of france in . he succeeded in driving out the medici and in introducing a new constitution of a democratic nature, which he believed was directly sanctioned by god. he attacked the morals of the clergy and of the people and, besides renovating his own order, suppressed not only public immorality but all forms of frivolity. the people burned their cards, false hair, indecent pictures, and the like; many women left their husbands and entered the cloister; gamblers were tortured and blasphemers had their tongues pierced. a police was instituted with power of searching houses. it was only the pope's fear of charles viii that prevented his dealing with this dangerous reformer, who now began to attack the vices of the curia. in , however, the friar was summoned to rome, and { } refused to go; he was then forbidden to preach, and disobeyed. in lent he proclaimed the duty of resisting the pope when in error. in november a new brief proposed changes in the constitution of his order which would bring him more directly under the power of rome. savonarola replied that he did not fear the excommunication of the sinful church, which, when launched against him may , , only made him more defiant. claiming to be commissioned directly from god, he appealed to the powers to summon a general council against the pope. at this juncture one of his opponents, a franciscan, francis da puglia, proposed to him the ordeal by fire, stating that though he expected to be burnt he was willing to take the risk for the sake of the faith. the challenge refused by savonarola was taken up by his friend fra domenico da peseta, and although forbidden by alexander, the ordeal was sanctioned by the signory and a day set. a dispute as to whether domenico should be allowed to take the host or the crucifix into the flames prevented the experiment from taking place, and the mob, furious at the loss of its promised spectacle, refused further support to the discredited leader. for some years, members of his own order, who resented the severity of his reform, had cherished a grievance against him, and now they had their chance. seized by the signory, he was tortured and forced to confess that he was not a prophet, and on may , , was condemned, with two companions, to be hung. after the speedy execution of the sentence, which the sufferers met calmly, their bodies were burnt. all effects of savonarola's career, political, moral, and religious, shortly disappeared. alexander was followed by a rovere who took the name of julius ii. [sidenote: julius ii - ] notwithstanding his advanced age this pontiff proved one of the most vigorous and able { } statesman of the time and devoted himself to the aggrandizement, by war and diplomacy, of the papal states. he did not scruple to use his spiritual thunders against his political enemies, as when he excommunicated the venetians. [sidenote: ] he found himself at odds with both the emperor maximilian and louis xii of france, who summoned a schismatic council at pisa. [sidenote: ] supported by some of the cardinals this body revived the legislation of constance and basle, but fell into disrepute when, by a master stroke of policy, julius convoked a council at rome. [sidenote: - ] this synod, the fifth lateran, lasted for four years, and endeavored to deal with a crusade and with reform. all its efforts at reform proved abortive because they were either choked, while in course of discussion, by the curia, or, when passed, were rendered ineffective by the dispensing power. [sidenote: leo x - ] while the synod was still sitting julius died and a new pope was chosen. this was the son of lorenzo the magnificent, the medici leo x. having taken the tonsure at the age of seven, and received the red hat six years later, he donned the tiara at the early age of thirty-eight. his words, as reported by the venetian ambassador at rome, "let us enjoy the papacy, since god has given it to us," exactly express his program. to make life one long carnival, to hunt game and to witness comedies and the antics of buffoons, to hear marvellous tales of the new world and voluptuous verses of the humanists and of the great ariosto, to enjoy music and to consume the most delicate viands and the most delicious wines--this was what he lived for. free and generous with money, he prodigally wasted the revenues of three pontificates. spending no less than ducats a month on cards and gratuities, he was soon forced to borrow to the limit of his credit. little recked he that germany was being { } reft from the church by a poor friar. his irresolute policy was incapable of pursuing any public end consistently, save that he employed the best latinists of the time to give elegance to his state papers. his method of governing was the purely personal one, to pay his friends and flatterers at the expense of the common good. one of his most characteristic letters expresses his intention of rewarding with high office a certain gentleman who had given him a dinner of lampreys. section . causes of the reformation [sidenote: corruption of the church not a main cause of the reformation] in the eyes of the early protestants the reformation was a return to primitive christianity and its principal cause was the corruption of the church. that there was great depravity in the church as elsewhere cannot be doubted, but there are several reasons for thinking that it could not have been an important cause for the loss of so many of her sons. in the first place there is no good ground for believing that the moral condition of the priesthood was worse in than it had been for a long time; indeed, there is good evidence to the contrary, that things were tending to improve, if not at rome yet in many parts of christendom. if objectionable practices of the priests had been a sufficient cause for the secession of whole nations, the reformation would have come long before it actually did. again, there is good reason to doubt that the mere abuse of an institution has ever led to its complete overthrow; as long as the institution is regarded as necessary, it is rather mended than ended. thirdly, many of the acts that seem corrupt to us, gave little offence to contemporaries, for they were universal. if the church sold offices and justice, so did the civil governments. if the clergy lived impure lives, so did the laity. probably the standard of the { } church (save in special circumstances) was no worse than that of civil life, and in some respects it was rather more decent. finally, there is some reason to suspect of exaggeration the charges preferred by the innovators. like all reformers they made the most of their enemy's faults. invective like theirs is common to every generation and to all spheres of life. it is true that the denunciation of the priesthood comes not only from protestants and satirists, but from popes and councils and canonized saints, and that it bulks large in medieval literature. nevertheless, it is both _a priori_ probable and to some extent historically verifiable that the evil was more noisy, not more potent, than the good. but though the corruptions of the church were not a main cause of the protestant secession, they furnished good excuses for attack; the reformers were scandalized by the divergence of the practice and the pretensions of the official representatives of christianity, and their attack was envenomed and the break made easier thereby. it is therefore necessary to say a few words about those abuses at which public opinion then took most offence. [sidenote: abuses: financial] many of these were connected with money. the common man's conscience was wounded by the smart in his purse. the wealth of the church was enormous, though exaggerated by those contemporaries who estimated it at one-third of the total real estate of western europe. in addition to revenues from her own land the church collected tithes and taxes, including "peter's pence" in england, scandinavia and poland. the clergy paid dues to the curia, among them the _servitia_ charged on the bishops and the annates levied on the income of the first year for each appointee to high ecclesiastical office, and the price for the archbishop's pall. the priests recouped themselves by charging high fees for their ministrations. at a time { } when the christian ideal was one of "apostolic poverty" the riches of the clergy were often felt as a scandal to the pious. [sidenote: simony] though the normal method of appointment to civil office was sale, it was felt as a special abuse in the church and was branded by the name of simony. leo x made no less than , ducats[ ] annually from the sale of more than offices, most of which, being sinecures, eventually came to be regarded as annuities, with a salary amounting to about per cent. of the purchase price. justice was also venal, in the church no less than in the state. pardon was obtainable for all crimes for, as a papal vice-chamberlain phrased it, "the lord wishes not the death of a sinner but that he should pay and live." dispensations from the laws against marriage within the prohibited degrees were sold. thus an ordinary man had to pay grossi[ ] for dispensation to marry a woman who stood in "spiritual relationship" [ ] to him; a noble had to pay grossi for the same privilege, and a prince or duke grossi. first cousins might marry for the payment of grossi; an uncle and niece for from three to four ducats, though this was later raised to as much as sixty ducats, at least for nobles. marriage within the first degree of affinity (a deceased wife's mother or daughter by another husband) was at one time sold for about ten ducats; marriage within the second degree[ ] was { } permitted for from to grossi. hardly necessary to add, as was done: "note well, that dispensations or graces of this sort are not given to poor people." [ ] dispensations from vows and from the requirements of ecclesiastical law, as for example those relating to fasting, were also to be obtained at a price. [sidenote: indulgences] one of the richest sources of ecclesiastical revenue was the sale of indulgences, or the remission by the pope of the temporal penalties of sin, both penance in this life and the pains of purgatory. the practice of giving these pardons first arose as a means of assuring heaven to those warriors who fell fighting the infidel. in boniface viii granted a plenary indulgence to all who made the pilgrimage to the jubilee at rome, and the golden harvest reaped on this occasion induced his successors to take the same means of imparting spiritual graces to the faithful at frequent intervals. in the fourteenth century the pardons were extended to all who contributed a sum of money to a pious purpose, whether they came to rome or not, and, as the agents who were sent out to distribute these pardons were also given power to confess and absolve, the papal letters were naturally regarded as no less than tickets of admission to heaven. in the thirteenth century the theologians had discovered that there was at the disposal of the church and her head an abundant "treasury of the merits of christ and the saints," which might be applied vicariously to anyone by the pope. in the fifteenth century the claimed power to free living men from purgatory was extended to the { } dead, and this soon became one of the most profitable branches of the "holy trade." the means of obtaining indulgences varied. sometimes they were granted to those who made a pilgrimage or who would read a pious book. sometimes they were used to raise money for some public work, a hospital or a bridge. but more and more they became an ordinary means for raising revenue for the curia. how thoroughly commercialized the business of selling grace and remission of the penalties of sin had become is shown by the fact that the agents of the pope were often bankers who organized the sales on purely business lines in return for a percentage of the net receipts plus the indirect profits accruing to those who handle large sums. of the net receipts the financiers usually got about ten per cent.; an equal amount was given to the emperor or other civil ruler for permitting the pardoners to enter his territory, commissions were also paid to the local bishop and clergy, and of course the pedlars of the pardons received a proportion of the profits in order to stimulate their zeal. on the average from thirty to forty-five per cent. of the gross receipts were turned into the roman treasury. it is natural that public opinion should have come to regard indulgences with aversion. their bad moral effect was too obvious to be disregarded, the compounding with sin for a payment destined to satisfy the greed of unscrupulous prelates. their economic effects were also noticed, the draining of the country of money with which further to enrich a corrupt italian city. many rulers forbade their sale in their territories, because, as duke george of saxony, a good catholic, expressed it, before luther was heard of, "they cheated the simple layman of his soul." hutten mocked at pope julius ii for selling to others the heaven he could not win himself. pius ii [sidenote - ] was obliged { } to confess: "if we send ambassadors to ask aid of the princes, they are mocked; if we impose a tithe on the clergy, appeal is made to a future council; if we publish an indulgence and invite contributions in return for spiritual favors, we are charged with greed. people think all is done merely for the sake of extorting money. no one trusts us. we have no more credit than a bankrupt merchant." [sidenote: immorality of clergy] much is said in the literature of the latter middle ages about the immorality of the clergy. this class has always been severely judged because of its high pretensions. moreover the vow of celibacy was too hard to keep for most men and for some women; that many priests, monks and nuns broke it cannot be doubted. and yet there was a sprinkling of saintly parsons like him of whom chancer [transcriber's note: chaucer?] said "who christes lore and his apostles twelve he taught, but first he folwed it himselve," and there were many others who kept up at least the appearance of decency. but here, as always, the bad attracted more attention than the good. the most reliable data on the subject are found in the records of church visitations, both those undertaken by the reformers and those occasionally attempted by the catholic prelates of the earlier period. everywhere it was proved that a large proportion of the clergy were both wofully ignorant and morally unworthy. besides the priests who had concubines, there were many given to drink and some who kept taverns, gaming rooms and worse places. plunged in gross ignorance and superstition, those blind leaders of the blind, who won great reputations as exorcists or as wizards, were unable to understand the latin service, and sometimes to repeat even the lord's prayer or creed in any language. { } [sidenote: piety] the reformation, like most other revolutions, came not at the lowest ebb of abuse, but at a time when the tide had already begun to run, and to run strongly, in the direction of improvement. one can hardly find a sweeter, more spiritual religion anywhere than that set forth in erasmus's _enchiridion_, or in more's _utopia_, or than that lived by vitrier and colet. many men, who had not attained to this conception of the true beauty of the gospel, were yet thoroughly disgusted with things as they were and quite ready to substitute a new and purer conception and practice for the old, mechanical one. evidence for this is the popularity of the bible and other devotional books. before there were nearly a hundred editions of the latin vulgate, and a number of translations into german and french. there were also nearly a hundred editions, in latin and various vernaculars, of _the imitation of christ_. there was so flourishing a crop of devotional handbooks that no others could compete with them in popularity. for those who could not read there were the _biblia pauperum_, picture-books with a minimum of text, and there were sermons by popular preachers. if some of these tracts and homilies were crude and superstitious, others were filled with a spirit of love and honesty. whereas the passion for pilgrimages and relics seemed to increase, there were men of clear vision to denounce the attendant evils. a new feature was the foundation of lay brotherhoods, like that of the common life, with the purpose of cultivating a good character in the world, and of rendering social service. the number of these brotherhoods was great and their popularity general. [sidenote: clash of new spirit with old institutions] had the forces already at work within the church been allowed to operate, probably much of the moral reform desired by the best catholics would have been { } accomplished quietly without the violent rending of christian unity that actually took place. but the fact is, that such reforms never would or could have satisfied the spirit of the age. men were not only shocked by the abuses in the church, but they had outgrown some of her ideals. not all of her teaching, nor most of it, had become repugnant to them, for it has often been pointed out that the reformers kept more of the doctrines of catholicism than they threw away, but in certain respects they repudiated, not the abuse but the very principle on which the church acted. in four respects, particularly the ideals of the new age were incompatible with those of the roman communion. [sidenote: sacramental theory of the church] the first of these was the sacramental theory of salvation and its corollary, the sacerdotal power. according to catholic doctrine grace is imparted to the believer by means of certain rites: baptism, confirmation, the eucharist, penance, extreme unction, holy orders, and matrimony. baptism is the necessary prerequisite to the enjoyment of the others, for without it the unwashed soul, whether heathen or child of christian parents, would go to eternal fire; but the "most excellent of the sacraments" is the eucharist, in which christ is mysteriously sacrificed by the priest to the father and his body and blood eaten and drunk by the worshippers. without these rites there was no salvation, and they acted automatically (_ex opere operato_) on the soul of the faithful who put no active hindrance in their way. save baptism, they could be administered only by priests, a special caste with "an indelible character" marking them off from the laity. needless to remark the immense power that this doctrine gave the clergy in a believing age. they were made the arbiters of each man's eternal destiny, and their moral character had no more to do with their binding and loosing sentence than does the moral { } character of a secular officer affect his official acts. add to this that the priests were unbound by ties of family, that by confession they entered into everyone's private life, that they were not amenable to civil justice--and their position as a privileged order was secure. the growing self-assurance and enlightenment of a nascent individualism found this distinction intolerable. [sidenote: other-worldliness] another element of medieval catholicism to clash with the developing powers of the new age was its pessimistic and ascetic other-worldliness. the ideal of the church was monastic; all the pleasures of this world, all its pomps and learning and art were but snares to seduce men from salvation. reason was called a barren tree but faith was held to blossom like the rose. wealth was shunned as dangerous, marriage deprecated as a necessary evil. fasting, scourging, celibacy, solitude, were cultivated as the surest roads to heaven. if a good layman might barely shoulder his way through the strait and narrow gate, the highest graces and heavenly rewards were vouchsafed to the faithful monk. all this grated harshly on the minds of the generations that began to find life glorious and happy, not evil but good. [sidenote: worship of saints] third, the worship of the saints, which had once been a stepping-stone to higher things, was now widely regarded as a stumbling-block. though far from a scientific conception of natural law, many men had become sufficiently monistic in their philosophy to see in the current hagiolatry a sort of polytheism. erasmus freely drew the parallel between the saints and the heathen deities, and he and others scourged the grossly materialistic form which this worship often took. if we may believe him, fugitive nuns prayed for help in hiding their sin; merchants for a rich haul; gamblers for luck; and prostitutes for generous { } patrons. margaret of navarre tells as an actual fact of a man who prayed for help in seducing his neighbor's wife, and similar instances of perverted piety are not wanting. the passion for the relics of the saints led to an enormous traffic in spurious articles. there appeared to be enough of the wood of the true cross, said erasmus, to make a ship; there were exhibited five shin-bones of the ass on which christ rode, whole bottles of the virgin's milk, and several complete bits of skin saved from the circumcision of jesus. [sidenote: temporal power of the church] finally, patriots were no longer inclined to tolerate the claims of the popes to temporal power. the church had become, in fact, an international state, with its monarch, its representative legislative assemblies, its laws and its code. it was not a voluntary society, for if citizens were not born into it they were baptized into it before they could exercise any choice. it kept prisons and passed sentence (virtually if not nominally) of death; it treated with other governments as one power with another; it took principalities and kingdoms in fief. it was supported by involuntary contributions.[ ] the expanding world had burst the bands of the old church. it needed a new spiritual frame, and this frame was largely supplied by the reformation. prior to that revolution there had been several distinct efforts to transcend or to revolt from the limitations imposed by the catholic faith; this was done by the mystics, by the pre-reformers, by the patriots and by the humanists. [ ] a ducat was worth intrinsically $ . , or nine shillings, at a time when money had a much greater purchasing power than it now has. [ ] the grossus, english groat, german groschen, was a coin which varied considerably in value. it may here be taken as intrinsically worth about cents or four pence, at a time when money had many times the purchasing power that it now has. [ ] a spiritual relationship was established if a man and woman were sponsors to the same child at baptism. [ ] presumably of affinity, i.e., a wife's sister, but there is nothing to show that this law did not also apply to consanguinity, and at one time the pope proposed that the natural son of henry viii, the duke of richmond, should marry his half sister, mary. [ ] "nota diligenter, quod huiusmodi gratiae et dispensationes non conceduntur pauperibus." _taxa cancellariae apostolicae_, in e. friedberg: _lerbuch des katholischen und evangelischen kirchenrechts_, , pp. ff. [ ] maitland: _canon law in the church of england_, p. . section . the mystics one of the earliest efforts to transcend the economy of salvation offered by the church was made by a school of mystics in the fourteenth and fifteenth { } century. in this, however, there was protest neither against dogma nor against the ideal of other-worldliness, for in these respects the mystics were extreme conservatives, more religious than the church herself. they were like soldiers who disregarded the orders of their superiors because they thought these orders interfered with their supreme duty of harassing the enemy. with the humanists and other deserters they had no part nor lot; they sought to make the church more spiritual, not more reasonable. they bowed to her plan for winning heaven at the expense of earthly joy and glory; they accepted her guidance without question; they rejoiced in her sacraments as aids to the life of holiness. but they sorrowed to see what they considered merely the means of grace substituted for the end sought; they were insensibly repelled by finding a mechanical instead of a personal scheme of salvation, an almost commercial debit and credit of good works instead of a life of spontaneous and devoted service. feeling as few men have ever felt that the purpose and heart of religion is a union of the soul with god, they were shocked to see the interposition of mediators between him and his creature, to find that instead of hungering for him men were trying to make the best bargain they could for their own eternal happiness. while rejecting nothing in the church they tried to transfigure everything. accepting priest and sacrament as aids to the divine life they declined to regard them as necessary intermediaries. [sidenote: eckhart, - ] the first of the great german mystics was master eckhart, a dominican who lived at erfurt, in bohemia, at paris, and at cologne. the inquisitors of this last place summoned him before their court on the charge of heresy, but while his trial was pending he died. he was a christian pantheist, teaching that god was the only true being, and that man was capable of reaching { } the absolute. of all the mystics he was the most speculative and philosophical. both henry suso and john tauler were his disciples. [sidenote: suso, - ] suso's ecstatic piety was of the ultra-medieval type, romantic, poetic, and bent on winning personal salvation by the old means of severe self-torture and the constant practice of good works. tauler, a dominican of strassburg, belonged to a society known as the friends of god. [sidenote: tauler c. - ] of all his contemporaries he in religion was the most social and practical. his life was that of an evangelist, preaching to laymen in their own vernacular the gospel of a pure life and direct communion with god through the bible and prayer. like many other popular preachers he placed great emphasis on conversion, the turning (_kehr_) from a bad to a good life. simple faith is held to be better than knowledge or than the usual works of ecclesiastical piety. tauler esteemed the holiest man he had ever seen one who had never heard five sermons in his life. all honest labor is called god's service, spinning and shoe-making the gifts of the holy spirit. pure religion is to be "drowned in god," "intoxicated with god," "melted in the fire of his love." transcending the common view of the average christian that religion's one end was his own salvation, tauler taught him that the love of god was greater than this. he tells of a woman ready to be damned for the glory of god--"and if such a person were dragged into the bottom of hell, there would be the kingdom of god and eternal bliss in hell." one of the fine flowers of german mysticism is a book written anonymously--"spoken by the almighty, eternal god, through a wise, understanding, truly just man, his friend, a priest of the teutonic order at frankfort." _the german theology_, [sidenote: _the german theology_] as it was named by luther, teaches in its purest form entire abandonment to god, simple passivity in his hands, utter { } self-denial and self-surrender, until, without the interposition of any external power, and equally without effort of her own, the soul shall find herself at one with the bridegroom. the immanence of god is taught; man's helpless and sinful condition is emphasized; and the reconciliation of the two is found only in the unconditional surrender of man's will to god. "put off thine own will and there will be no hell." tauler's sermons, first published , had an immense influence on luther. they were later taken up by the jesuit canisius who sought by them to purify his church. [sidenote: ] _the german theology_ was first published by luther in , with the statement that save the bible and st. augustine's works, he had never met with a book from which he had learned so much of the nature of "god, christ, man, and all things." but other theologians, both protestant and catholic, did not agree with him. calvin detected secret and deadly poison in the author's pantheism, and in the catholic church placed his work on the index. the netherlands also produced a school of mystics, later in blooming than that of the germans and greater in its direct influence. the earliest of them was john of ruysbroeck, a man of visions and ecstasies. [sidenote: ruysbroeck, - ] he strove to make his life one long contemplation of the light and love of god. two younger men, gerard groote and florence radewyn, socialized his gospel by founding the fellowship of the brethren of the common life. [sidenote: groote, - ] [sidenote: radewyn, - ] though never an order sanctioned by the church, they taught celibacy and poverty, and devoted themselves to service of their fellows, chiefly in the capacity of teachers of boys. the fifteenth century's rising tide of devotion brought forth the most influential of the products of all the mystics, the _imitation of christ_ by thomas à kempis. [sidenote: thomas à kempis, c. - ] written in a plaintive minor key of { } resignation and pessimism, it sets forth with much artless eloquence the ideal of making one's personal life approach that of christ. humility, self-restraint, asceticism, patience, solitude, love of jesus, prayer, and a diligent use of the sacramental grace of the eucharist are the means recommended to form the character of the perfect christian. it was doubtless because all this was so perfect an expression of the medieval ideal that it found such wide and instant favor. there is no questioning of dogma, nor any speculation on the positions of the church; all this is postulated with child-like simplicity. moreover, the ideal of the church for the salvation of the individual, and the means supposed to secure that end, are adopted by à kempis. he tacitly assumes that the imitator of christ will be a monk, poor and celibate. his whole endeavor was to stimulate an enthusiasm for privation and a taste for things spiritual, and it was because in his earnestness and single-mindedness he so largely succeeded that his book was eagerly seized by the hands of thousands who desired and needed such stimulation and help. the dutch canon was not capable of rising to the heights of tauler and the frankfort priest, who saw in the love of god a good in itself transcending the happiness of one's own soul. he just wanted to be saved and tried to love god for that purpose with all his might. but this careful self-cultivation made his religion self-centered; it was, compared even with the professions of the protestants and of the jesuits, personal and unsocial. notwithstanding the profound differences between the mystics and the reformers, it is possible to see that at least in one respect the two movements were similar. it was exactly the same desire to get away from the mechanical and formal in the church's scheme of salvation, that animated both. tauler and luther { } both deprecated good works and sought justification in faith only. important as this is, it is possible to see why the mystics failed to produce a real revolt from the church, and it is certain that they were far more than the reformers fundamentally, even typically catholic. [sidenote: mysticism] it is true that mysticism is at heart always one, neither national nor confessional. but catholicism offered so favorable a field for this development that mysticism may be considered as the efflorescence of catholic piety _par excellence_. hardly any other expression of godliness as an individual, vital thing, was possible in medieval christendom. there is not a single idea in the fourteenth and fifteenth century mysticism which cannot be read far earlier in augustine and bernard, even in aquinas and scotus. it could never be anything but a sporadic phenomenon because it was so intensely individual. while it satisfied the spiritual needs of many, it could never amalgamate with other forces of the time, either social or intellectual. as a philosophy or a creed it led not so much to solipsism as to a complete abnegation of the reason. moreover it was slightly morbid, liable to mistake giddiness of starved nerve and emotion for a moment of vision and of union with god. how much more truly than he knew did ruysbroeck speak when he said that the soul, turned inward, could see the divine light, just as the eyeball, sufficiently pressed, could see the flashes of fire in the mind! section . pre-reformers the men who, in later ages, claimed for their ancestors a protestantism older than the augsburg confession, referred its origins not to the mystics nor to the humanists, but to bold leaders branded by the church as heretics. though from the earliest age christendom never lacked minds independent enough { } to differ from authority and characters strong enough to attempt to cut away what they considered rotten in ecclesiastical doctrine and practice, the first heretics that can really be considered as harbingers of the reformation were two sects dwelling in southern france, the albigenses and the waldenses. [sidenote: albigenses] the former, first met with in the eleventh century, derived part of their doctrines from oriental manichaeism, part from primitive gnosticism. the latter were the followers of peter waldo, a rich merchant of lyons who, about , sold his goods and went among the poor preaching the gospel. [sidenote: waldenses] though quite distinct in origin both sects owed their success with the people to their attacks on the corrupt lives of the clergy, to their use of the vernacular new testament, to their repudiation of part of the sacramental system, and to their own earnest and ascetic morality. the story of their savage suppression, at the instigation of pope innocent iii, [sidenote: - ] in the albigensian crusade, is one of the darkest blots on the pages of history. a few remnants of them survived in the mountains of savoy and piedmont, harried from time to time by blood-thirsty pontiffs. in obedience to a summons of innocent viii king charles viii of france massacred many of them. [sidenote: ] the spiritual ancestors of luther, however, were not so much the french heretics as two englishmen, occam and wyclif. [sidenote: occam, d. c. ] william of occam, a franciscan who taught at oxford, was the most powerful scholastic critic of the existing church. untouched by the classic air breathed by the humanists, he said all that could be said against the church from her own medieval standpoint. he taught determinism; he maintained that the final seat of authority was the scripture; he showed that such fundamental dogmas as the existence of god, the trinity, and the incarnation, cannot be deduced by logic from the given premises; he { } proposed a modification of the doctrine of transubstantiation in the interests of reason, approaching closely in his ideas to the "consubstantiation" of luther. defining the church as the congregation of the faithful, he undermined her governmental powers. this, in fact, is just what he wished to do, for he went ahead of almost all his contemporaries in proposing that the judicial powers of the clergy be transferred to the civil government. not only, in his opinion, should the civil ruler be totally independent of the pope, but even such matters as the regulation of marriage should be left to the common law. [sidenote: wyclif, - ] a far stronger impression on his age was made by john wyclif, the most significant of the reformers before luther. he, too, was an oxford professor, a schoolman, and a patriot, but he was animated by a deeper religious feeling than was occam. in he was master of balliol college, where he lectured for many years on divinity. at the same time he held various benefices in turn, the last, the pastorate of lutterworth in leicestershire, from till his death. he became a reformer somewhat late in life owing to study of the bible and of the bad condition of the english church. [sidenote: ] at the peace congress at bruges as a commissioner to negotiate with papal ambassadors for the relief of crying abuses, he became disillusioned in his hope for help from that quarter. he then turned to the civil government, urging it to regain the usurped authority of the church. this plan, set forth in voluminous writings, in lectures at oxford and in popular sermons in london, soon brought him before the tribunal [sidenote: ] of william courtenay, bishop of london, and, had he not been protected by the powerful prince, john of lancaster, it might have gone hard with him. five bulls launched against him by gregory xi from rome only confirmed him in his course, for he { } appealed from them to parliament. tried at lambeth he was forbidden to preach or teach, and he therefore retired for the rest of his life to lutterworth. [sidenote: ] he continued his literary labors, resulting in a vast host of pamphlets. examining his writings we are struck by the fact that his program was far more religious and practical than rational and speculative. save transubstantiation, he scrupled at none of the mysteries of catholicism. it is also noticeable that social reform left him cold. when the laborers rose under wat tyler, [sidenote: ] wyclif sided against them, as he also proposed that confiscated church property be given rather to the upper classes than to the poor. the real principles of wyclif's reforms were but two: to abolish the temporal power of the church, and to purge her of immoral ministers. it was for this reason that he set up the authority of scripture against that of tradition; it was for this that he doubted the efficacy of sacraments administered by priests living in mortal sin; it was for this that he denied the necessity of auricular confession; it was for this that he would have placed the temporal power over the spiritual. the bulk of his writings, in both latin and english, is fierce, measureless abuse of the clergy, particularly of prelates and of the pope. the head of christendom is called antichrist over and over again; the bishops, priests and friars are said to have their lips full of lies and their hands of blood; to lead women astray; to live in idleness, luxury, simony and deceit; and to devour the english church. marriage of the clergy is recommended. indulgences are called a cursed robbery. to combat the enemies of true piety wyclif relied on two agencies. the first was the bible, which, with the assistance of friends, he englished from the { } vulgate. none of the later reformers was more bent upon giving the scriptures to the laity, and none attributed to it a higher degree of inspiration. as a second measure wyclif trained "poor priests" to be wandering evangelists spreading abroad the message of salvation among the populace. for a time they attained considerable success, notwithstanding the fact that the severe persecution to which they were subjected caused all of wyclif's personal followers to recant. [sidenote: ] the passage of the act _de haeretico comburendo_ was not, however, in vain, for in the fifteenth century a number of common men were found with sufficient resolution to die for their faith. it is probable that, as cuthbert tunstall, bishop of london wrote in , the lollards, as they were called, were the first to welcome lutheranism into britain. but if the seed produced but a moderate harvest in england it brought forth a hundred-fold in bohemia. wyclif's writings, carried by czech students from oxford to prague, were eagerly studied by some of the attendants at that university, the greatest of whom was john huss. [sidenote: huss, - ] having taken his bachelor's degree there in , he had given instruction since and became the head of the university (rector) for the year . almost the whole content of his lectures, as of his writings, was borrowed from wyclif, from whom he copied not only his main ideas but long passages verbatim and without specific acknowledgment. professors and students of his own race supported him, but the germans at the university took offence and a long struggle ensued, culminating in the secession of the germans in a body in to found a new university at leipsic. the quarrel, having started over a philosophic question,--wyclif and huss being realists and the germans nominalists,--took a more serious turn when it came to a definition of the church { } and of the respective spheres of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities. defining the church as the body of the predestinate, and starting a campaign against indulgences, huss soon fell under the ban of his superiors. after burning the bulls of john xxiii huss withdrew from prague. summoned to the council of constance, he went thither, under safe-conduct from the emperor sigismund, and was immediately cast into a noisome dungeon. [sidenote: , ] [sidenote: ] the council proceeded to consider the opinions of wyclif, condemning of his errors and ordering his bones to be dug up and burnt, as was done twelve years later. every effort was then made to get huss to recant a list of propositions drawn up by the council and attributed to him. some of these charges were absurd, as that he was accused of calling himself the fourth person of the trinity. other opinions, like the denial of transubstantiation, he declared, and doubtless with truth, that he had never held. much was made of his saying that he hoped his soul would be with the soul of wyclif after death, and the emperor was alarmed by his argument that neither priest nor king living in mortal sin had a right to exercise his office. he was therefore condemned to the stake. his death was perfect. his last letters are full of calm resolution, love to his friends, and forgiveness to his enemies. haled to the cathedral where the council sat on july , , he was given one last chance to recant and save his life. refusing, he was stripped of his vestments, and a paper crown with three demons painted on it put on his head with the words, "we commit thy soul to the devil"; he was then led to the public square and burnt alive. sigismund, threatened by the council, made no effort to redeem his safe-conduct, and in september the reverend fathers passed a decree that no safe-conduct to a heretic, and { } no pledge prejudicial to the catholic faith, could be considered binding. among the large concourse of divines not one voice was raised against this treacherous murder. huss's most prominent follower, jerome of prague, after recantation, returned to his former position and was burnt at constance on may , . a bull of ordered the similar punishment of all heretics who maintained the positions of wyclif, huss, or jerome of prague. as early as september a loud remonstrance against the treatment of their master was voiced by the bohemian diet. the more radical party, known as taborites, rejected transubstantiation, worship of the saints, prayers for the dead, indulgences, auricular confession, and oaths. they allowed women to preach, demanded the use of the vernacular in divine service and the giving of the cup to the laity. a crusade was started against them, but they knew how to defend themselves. the council of basle [sidenote: - ] was driven to negotiate with them and ended by a compromise allowing the cup to the laity and some other reforms. subsequent efforts to reduce them proved futile. under king podiebrad the ultraquists maintained their rights. some hussites, however, continued as a separate body, calling themselves bohemian brethren. first met with in they continue to the present day as moravians. they were subject to constant persecution. in the catholic official james lilienstayn drew up an interesting list of their errors. it seems that their cardinal tenet was the supremacy of scripture, without gloss, tradition, or interpretation by the fathers of the church. they rejected the primacy of the pope, and all ceremonies for which authority could not be found in the bible, and they denied the efficacy of masses for the dead and the validity of indulgences. { } with much reason wyclif and huss have been called "reformers before the reformation." luther himself, not knowing the englishman, recognized his deep indebtedness to the bohemian. all of their program, and more, he carried through. his doctrine of justification by faith only, with its radical transformation of the sacramental system, cannot be found in these his predecessors, and this was a difference of vast importance. section . nationalizing the churches inevitably, the growth of national sentiment spoken of above reacted on the religious institutions of europe. indeed, it was here that the conflict of the international, ecclesiastical state, and of the secular governments became keenest. both kings and people wished to control their own spiritual affairs as well as their temporalities. [sidenote: the ecclesia anglicana] england traveled farthest on the road towards a national church. for three centuries she had been asserting the rights of her government to direct spiritual as well as temporal matters. the statute of mortmain [sidenote: ] forbade the alienation of land from the jurisdiction of the civil power by appropriating it to religious persons. the withdrawing of land from the obligation to pay taxes and feudal dues was thus checked. the encroachment of the civil power, both in england and france, was bitterly felt by the popes. boniface viii endeavored to stem the flood by the bull _clericis laicos_ [sidenote: ] forbidding the taxation of clergy by any secular government, and the bull _unam sanctam_ [sidenote: ] asserting the universal monarchy of the roman pontiff in the strongest possible terms. but these exorbitant claims were without effect. the statute of provisors [sidenote: and ] forbade the appointment to english benefices by the pope, and the statute of praemunire [sidenote: and ] took away the right of { } english subjects to appeal from the courts of their own country to rome. the success of wyclif's movement was largely due to his patriotism. though the signs of strife with the pope were fewer in the fifteenth century, there is no doubt that the national feeling persisted. [sidenote: the gallican church] france manifested a spirit of liberty hardly less fierce than that of england. it was the french king philip the fair who humiliated boniface viii so severely that he died of chagrin. during almost the whole of the fourteenth century the residence of a pope subservient to france at avignon prevented any difficulties, but no sooner had the council of constance restored the head of the unified church to rome than the old conflict again burst forth. [sidenote: ] the extreme claims of the gallican church were asserted in the law known as the pragmatic sanction of bourges, by which the pope was left hardly any right of appointment, of jurisdiction, or of raising revenue in france. the supremacy of a council over the pope was explicitly asserted, as was the right of the civil magistrate to order ecclesiastical affairs in his dominions. when the pontiffs refused to recognize this almost schismatical position taken by france, the pragmatic sanction was further fortified by a law sentencing to death any person who should bring into the country a bull repugnant to it. strenuous efforts of the papacy were directed to secure the repeal of this document, and in pius ii induced louis xi to revoke it in return for political concessions in naples. this action, opposed by the university and parlement of paris, proved so unpopular that two years later the gallican liberties were reasserted in their full extent. harmony was established between the interests of the curia and of the french government by the compromise known as the concordat of bologna. [sidenote: ] the { } concessions to the king were so heavy that it was difficult for leo x to get his cardinals to consent to them. almost the whole power of appointment, of jurisdiction, and of taxation was put into the royal hands, some stipulations being made against the conferring of benefices on immoral priests and against the frivolous imposition of ecclesiastical punishments. what the pope gained was the abandonment of the assertion made at bourges of the supremacy of a general council. the concordat was greeted by a storm of protest in france. the sorbonne refused to recognize it and appealed at once to a general council. the king, however, had the refractory members arrested and decreed the repeal of the pragmatic sanction in . in italy and germany the growth of a national state [sidenote: italy] was retarded by the fact that one was the seat of the pope, the other of the emperor, each of them claiming a universal authority. moreover, these two powers were continually at odds. the long investiture strife, culminating in the triumph of gregory vii at canossa [sidenote: ] and ending in the concordat of worms, [sidenote: ] could not permanently settle the relations of the two. whereas aquinas and the canon law maintained the superiority of the pope, there were not lacking asserters of the imperial preëminence. william of occam's argument to prove that the emperor might depose an heretical pope was taken up by marsiglio of padua, whose _defender of the peace_ [sidenote: c. ] ranks among the ablest of political pamphlets. in order to reduce the power of the pope, whom he called "the great dragon and old serpent," he advanced the civil government to a complete supremacy in ecclesiastical affairs. he stated that the only authority in matters of faith was the bible, with the necessary interpretation given it by a general council composed of both clergy and laymen; that the emperor had the right to convoke and { } direct this council and to punish all priests, prelates and the supreme pontiff; that the canon law had no validity; that no temporal punishment should be visited on heresy save by the state, and no spiritual punishment be valid without the consent of the state. [sidenote: germany] with such a weapon in their hands the emperors might have taken an even stronger stand than did the kings of england and france but for the lack of unity in their dominions. germany was divided into a large number of practically independent states. it was in these and not in the empire as a whole that an approach was made to a form of national church, such as was realized after luther had broken the bondage of rome. when duke rudolph iv of austria in the fourteenth century stated that he intended to be pope, archbishop, archdeacon and dean in his own land, when the dukes of bavaria, saxony and cleves made similar boasts, they but put in a strong form the program that they in part realized. the princes gradually acquired the right of patronage to church benefices, and they permitted no bulls to be published, no indulgences sold, without their permission. the free cities acted in much the same way. the authority of the german states over their own spiritualities was no innovation of the heresy of wittenberg. for all germany's internal division there was a certain national consciousness, due to the common language. in no point were the people more agreed than in their opposition to the rule of the italian curia. [sidenote: ] at one time the monasteries of cologne signed a compact to resist gregory xi in a proposed levy of tithes, stating that, "in consequence of the exactions by which the papal court burdens the clergy the apostolic see has fallen into contempt and the catholic faith in these parts seems to be seriously imperiled." again, { } a knight of the teutonic order in prussia [sidenote: ] wrote: "greed reigns supreme in the roman court, and day by day finds new devices and artifices for extorting money from germany under pretext of ecclesiastical fees. hence arise much outcry, complaint and heart-burning. . . . many questions about the papacy will be answered, or else obedience will ultimately be entirely renounced to escape from these outrageous exactions of the italians." the relief expected from the council of basle failed, and abuses were only made worse by a compact between frederick iii and nicholas v, known as the concordat of vienna. [sidenote: ] this treaty was by no means comparable with the english and french legislation, but was merely a division of the spoils between the two supreme rulers at the expense of the people. the power of appointment to high ecclesiastical positions was divided, annates were confirmed, and in general a considerable increase of the authority of the curia was established. protests began at once in the form of "gravamina" or lists of grievances drawn up at each diet as a petition, and in part enacted into laws. in the spiritual electors demanded that the emperor proceed with reform on the basis of the decrees of constance. in the clergy refused to be taxed for a crusade. in the princes appealed against the sale of indulgences. the gravamina of this year were very bitter, complaining of the practice of usury by priests, of the pomp of the cardinals and of the pope's habit of giving promises of preferment to certain sees and then declaring the places vacant on the plea of having made a "mental reservation" in favor of some one else. the roman clergy were called in this bill of grievances "public fornicators, keepers of concubines, ruffians, pimps and sinners in various other { } respects." drastic proposals of reform were defeated by the pope. [sidenote: gravamina] the gravamina continued. those of appealed against the mendicant orders and against the appointment of foreigners. they clamored for a new council and for reform on the basis of the decrees of basle; they protested against judicial appeals to rome, against the annates and against the crusade tax. it was stated that the papal appointees were rather fitted to be drivers of mules than pastors of souls. such words found a reverberating echo among the people. the powerful pen of gregory of heimburg, sometimes called "the lay luther," roused his countrymen to a patriotic stand against the italian usurpation. the diet of resolved not to let money raised by indulgences leave germany, but to use it against the turks. another long list of grievances relating to the tyranny and extortion of rome was presented in . the acts of the diet of augsburg in the summer of are eloquent testimony to the state of popular feeling when luther had just begun his career. to this diet leo x sent as special legate cardinal cajetan, requesting a subsidy for a crusade against the turk. it was proposed that an impost of ten per cent. be laid on the incomes of the clergy and one of five per cent. on the rich laity. this was refused on account of the grievances of the nation against the curia, and refused in language of the utmost violence. it was stated that the real enemy of christianity was not the turk but "the hound of hell" in rome. indulgences were branded as blood-letting. when such was the public opinion it is clear that luther only touched a match to a heap of inflammable material. the whole nationalist movement redounded to the benefit of protestantism. the state-churches of { } northern europe are but the logical development of previous separatist tendencies. section . the humanists but the preparation for the great revolt was no less thorough on the intellectual than it was on the religious and political sides. the revival of interest in classical antiquity, aptly known as the renaissance, brought with it a searching criticism of all medieval standards and, most of all, of medieval religion. the renaissance stands in the same relationship to the reformation that the so-called "enlightenment" stands to the french revolution. the humanists of the fifteenth century were the "philosophers" of the eighteenth. the new spirit was born in italy. if we go back as far as dante [sidenote: dante, - ] we find, along with many modern elements, such as the use of the vernacular, a completely medieval conception of the universe. his immortal poem is in one respect but a commentary on the _summa theologiae_ of aquinas; it is all about the other world. the younger contemporaries of the great florentine [sidenote: petrarch, - ] began to be restless as the implications of the new spirit dawned on them. petrarch lamented that literary culture was deemed incompatible with faith. boccaccio was as much a child of this world as dante was a prophet of the next. [sidenote: boccaccio, - ] too simple-minded deliberately to criticize doctrine, he was instinctively opposed to ecclesiastical professions. devoting himself to celebrating the pleasures and the pomp of life, he took especial delight in heaping ridicule on ecclesiastics, representing them as the quintessence of all impurity and hypocrisy. the first story in his famous decameron is of a scoundrel who comes to be reputed as a saint, invoked as such and performing miracles { } after death. the second story is of a jew who was converted to christianity by the wickedness of rome, for he reasoned that no cult, not divinely supported, could survive such desperate depravity as he saw there. the third tale, of the three rings, points the moral that no one can be certain what religion is the true one. the fourth narrative, like many others, turns upon the sensuality of the monks. elsewhere the author describes the most absurd relics, and tells how a priest deceived a woman by pretending that he was the angel gabriel. the trend of such a work was naturally the reverse of edifying. the irreligion is too spontaneous to be called philosophic doubt; it is merely impiety. [sidenote: valla, - ] but such a sentiment could not long remain content with scoffing. the banner of pure rationalism, or rather of conscious classical skepticism, was raised by a circle of enthusiasts. the most brilliant of them, and one of the keenest critics that europe has ever produced, was lorenzo valla, a native of naples, and for some years holder of a benefice at rome. such was the trenchancy and temper of his weapons that much of what he advanced has stood the test of time. [sidenote: the donation of constantine] the papal claim to temporal supremacy in the western world rested largely on a spurious document known as the donation of constantine. in this the emperor is represented as withdrawing from rome in order to leave it to the pope, to whom, in return for being cured of leprosy, he gives the whole occident. an uncritical age had received this forgery for five or six centuries without question. doubt had been cast on it by nicholas of cusa and reginald peacock, but valla demolished it. he showed that no historian had spoken of it; that there was no time at which it could have occurred; that it is contradicted by other contemporary acts; that the barbarous style contains { } expressions of greek, hebrew, and german origin; that the testimony of numismatics is against it; and that the author knew nothing of the antiquities of rome, into whose council he introduced satraps. valla's work was so thoroughly done that the document, embodied as were its conclusions in the canon law, has never found a reputable defender since. in time the critique had an immense effect. ulrich von hutten published it in , and in the same year an english translation was made. in luther turned it into german. [sidenote: valla attacks the pope] and if the legality of the pope's rule was so slight, what was its practical effect? according to valla, it was a "barbarous, overbearing, tyrannical, priestly domination." "what is it to you," he apostrophizes the pontiff, "if our republic is crushed? you have crushed it. if our temples have been pillaged? you have pillaged them. if our virgins and matrons have been violated? you have done it. if the city is innundated with the blood of citizens? you are guilty of it all." [sidenote: annotations on the new testament] valla's critical genius next attacked the schoolman's idol aristotle and the humanist's demigod cicero. more important were his _annotations on the new testament_, first published by erasmus in . the vulgate was at that time regarded, as it was at trent defined to be, the authentic or official form of the scriptures. taking in hand three latin and three greek manuscripts, valla had no difficulty in showing that they differed from one another and that in some cases the latin had no authority whatever in the greek. he pointed out a number of mistranslations, some of them in passages vitally affecting the faith. in short he left no support standing for any theory of verbal inspiration. he further questioned, and successfully, the authorship of the creed attributed { } to the apostles, the authenticity of the writings of dionysius the areopagite and of the letter of christ to king abgarus, preserved and credited by eusebius. [sidenote: attack on christian ethics] his attack on christian ethics was still more fundamental. in his _dialogue on free will_ he tried with ingenuity to reconcile the freedom of the will, denied by augustine, with the foreknowledge of god, which he did not feel strong enough to dispute. in his work on _the monastic life_ he denied all value to asceticism. others had mocked the monks for not living up to their professions; he asserted that the ideal itself was mistaken. but it is the treatise _on pleasure_ that goes the farthest. in form it is a dialogue on ethics; one interlocutor maintaining the epicurean, the second the stoical, and the third the christian standard. the sympathies of the author are plainly with the champion of hedonism, who maintains that pleasure is the supreme good in life, or rather the only good, that the prostitute is better than the nun, for the one makes men happy, the other is dedicated to a painful and shameful celibacy; that the law against adultery is a sort of sacrilege; that women should be common and should go naked; and that it is irrational to die for one's country or for any other ideal. . . . it is noteworthy that the representative of the christian standpoint accepts tacitly the assumption that happiness is the supreme good, only he places that happiness in the next life. valla's ideas obtained throughout a large circle in the half-century following his death. masuccio indulged in the most obscene mockery of catholic rites. poggio wrote a book against hypocrites, attacking the monks, and a joke-book largely at the expense of the faithful. machiavelli assailed the papacy with great ferocity, attributing to it the corruption of italian morals and the political disunion and weakness of { } italy, and advocating its annihilation. [sidenote: machiavelli, - ] in place of christianity, habitually spoken of as an exploded superstition, dangerous to the state, he would put the patriotic cults of antiquity. it is not strange, knowing the character of the popes, that pagan expressions should color the writings of their courtiers. poggio was a papal secretary, and so was bembo, a cardinal who refused to read paul's epistles for fear of corrupting his latinity. in his exquisite search for classical equivalents for the rude phrases of the gospel, he referred, in a papal breve, to christ as "minerva sprung from the head of jove," and to the holy ghost as "the breath of the celestial zephyr." conceived in the same spirit was a sermon of inghirami heard by erasmus at rome on good friday . couched in the purest ciceronian terms, while comparing the saviour to gurtius, cecrops, aristides, epaminondas and iphigenia, it was mainly devoted to an extravagant eulogy of the reigning pontiff, julius ii. but all the italian humanists were not pagans. there arose at florence, partly under the influence of the revival of greek, partly under that of savonarola, a group of earnest young men who sought to invigorate christianity by infusing into it the doctrines of plato. the leaders of this neo-platonic academy, pico della mirandola [sidenote: pico della mirandola, - ] and marsiglio ficino, sought to show that the teachings of the athenian and of the galilean were the same. approaching the bible in the simple literary way indicated by classical study, pico really rediscovered some of the teachings of the new testament, while in dealing with the old he was forced to adopt an ingenious but unsound allegorical interpretation. "philosophy seeks the truth," he wrote, "theology finds it, religion possesses it." his extraordinary personal influence extended through { } lands beyond the alps, even though it failed in accomplishing the rehabilitation of italian faith. [sidenote: faber stapulensis, c. - ] the leader of the french christian renaissance, james lefèvre d'Étaples, was one of his disciples. traveling in italy in , after visiting padua, venice and rome, he came to florence, learned to know pico, and received from him a translation of aristotle's metaphysics made by cardinal bessarion. returning to paris he taught, at the college of cardinal lemoine, mathematics, music and philosophy. he did not share the dislike of aristotle manifested by most of the humanists, for he shrewdly suspected that what was offensive in the stagyrite was due more to his scholastic translators and commentators than to himself. he therefore labored to restore the true text, on which he wrote a number of treatises. it was with the same purpose that he turned next to the early fathers and to the writer called dionysius the areopagite. but he did not find himself until he found the bible. in he published the _quintuplex psalterium_, the first treatise on the psalms in which the philological and personal interest was uppermost. hitherto it had not been the bible that had been studied so much as the commentaries on it, a dry wilderness of arid and futile subtlety. lefèvre tried to see simply what the text said, and as it became more human it became, for him, more divine. his preface is a real cry of joy at his great discovery. he did, indeed, interpret everything in a double sense, literal and spiritual, and placed the emphasis rather on the latter, but this did not prevent a genuine effort to read the words as they were written. three years later he published in like manner the epistles of st. paul, with commentary. though he spoke of the apostle as a simple instrument of god, he yet did more to uncover his personality than any of the previous { } commentators. half mystic as he was, lefèvre discovered in paul the doctrine of justification by faith only. to i corinthians viii, he wrote: "it is almost profane to speak of the merit of works, especially towards god. . . . the opinion that we can be justified by works is an error for which the jews are especially condemned. . . . our only hope is in god's grace." lefèvre's works opened up a new world to the theologians of the time. erasmus's friend beatus rhenanus wrote that the richness of the _quintuplex psalter_ made him poor. thomas more said that english students owed him much. luther used the two works of the frenchman as the texts for his early lectures. from them he drew very heavily; indeed it was doubtless lefèvre who first suggested to him the formula of his famous "sola fide." the religious renaissance in england was led by a disciple of pico della mirandola, john colet, [sidenote: colet, d. ] a man of remarkably pure life, and dean of st. paul's. he wrote, though he did not publish, some commentaries on the pauline epistles and on the mosaic account of creation. though he knew no greek, and was not an easy or elegant writer of latin, he was allied to the humanists by his desire to return to the real sources of christianity, and by his search for the historical sense of his texts. though in some respects he was under the fantastic notions of the areopagite, in others his interpretation was rational, free and undogmatic. he exercised a considerable influence on erasmus and on a few choice spirits of the time. the humanism of germany centered in the universities. at the close of the fifteenth century new courses in the latin classics, in greek and in hebrew, began to supplement the medieval curriculum of logic and philosophy. at every academy there sprang up a circle of "poets," as they called themselves, often of { } lax morals and indifferent to religion, but earnest in their championship of culture. nor were these circles confined entirely to the seats of learning. many a city had its own literary society, one of the most famous being that of nuremberg. conrad mutianus rufus drew to gotha, [sidenote: mutian, - ] where he held a canonry, a group of disciples, to whom he imparted the neo-platonism he had imbibed in italy. disregarding revelation, he taught that all religions were essentially the same. "i esteem the decrees of philosophers more than those of priests," he wrote. [sidenote: reuchlin, - ] what lefèvre and colet had done for the new testament, john reuchlin did for the old. after studying in france and italy, where he learned to know pico della mirandola, he settled at stuttgart and devoted his life to the study of hebrew. his _de rudimentis hebraicis_, [sidenote: ] a grammar and dictionary of this language, performed a great service for scholarship. in the late jewish work, the _cabbala_, he believed he had discovered a source of mystic wisdom. the extravagance of his interpretations of scriptual passages, based on this, not only rendered much of his work nugatory, but got him into a great deal of trouble. the converted jew, john pfefferkorn, proposed, in a series of pamphlets, that jews should be forbidden to practise usury, should be compelled to hear sermons and to deliver up all their hebrew books to be burnt, except the old testament. when reuchlin's aid in this pious project was requested it was refused in a memorial dated october , , pointing out the great value of much hebrew literature. the dominicans of cologne, headed by their inquisitor, james hochstraten, made this the ground for a charge of heresy. the case was appealed to rome, and the trial, lasting six years, excited the interest of all europe. in germany it was argued with much heat in a host of { } pamphlets, all the monks and obscurantists taking the side of the inquisitors and all the humanists, save one, ortuin gratius of cologne, taking the part of the scholar. the latter received many warm expressions of admiration and support from the leading writers of the time, and published them in two volumes, the first in , under the title _letters of eminent men_. it was this that suggested to the humanist, crotus bubeanus, the title of his satire published anonymously, _the letters of obscure men_. in form it is a series of epistles from monks and hedge-priests to ortuin gratius. [sidenote: _epistolae obscurorum virorum_] writing in the most barbarous latin, they express their admiration for his attack on reuchlin and the cause of learning, gossip about their drinking-bouts and pot-house amours, expose their ignorance and gullibility, and ask absurd questions, as, whether it is a mortal sin to salute a jew, and whether the worms eaten with beans and cheese should be considered meat or fish, lawful or not in lent, and at what stage of development a chick in the egg becomes meat and therefore prohibited on fridays. the satire, coarse as it was biting, failed to win the applause of the finer spirits, but raised a shout of laughter from the students, and was no insignificant factor in adding to contempt for the church. the first book of these _letters_, published in , was followed two years later by a second, even more caustic than the first. this supplement, also published without the writer's name, was from the pen of ulrich von hutten. [sidenote: hutten, - ] this brilliant and passionate writer devoted the greater part of his life to war with rome. his motive was not religious, but patriotic. he longed to see his country strong and united, and free from the galling oppression of the ultramontane yoke. he published valla's _donation of constantine_, and wrote epigrams on the popes. his dialogue _fever the first_ is a { } vitriolic attack on the priests. his _vadiscus or the roman trinity_ [sidenote: ] scourges the vices of the curia where three things are sold: christ, places and women. when he first heard of luther's cause he called it a quarrel of monks, and only hoped they would all destroy one another. but by he saw in the reformer the most powerful of allies against the common foe, and he accordingly embraced his cause with habitual zeal. his letters at this time breathe out fire and slaughter against the romanists if anything should happen to luther. in , he supported his friend francis von sickingen, in the attempt to assert by force of arms the rights of the patriotic and evangelic order of knights. when this was defeated, hutten, suffering from a terrible disease, wandered to switzerland, where he died, a lonely and broken exile. his epitaph shall be his own lofty poem: i have fought my fight with courage, nor have i aught to rue, for, though i lost the battle, the world knows, i was true! [sidenote: erasmus, - ] the most cosmopolitan, as well as the greatest, of all the christian humanists, was desiderius erasmus of rotterdam. though an illegitimate child, he was well educated and thoroughly grounded in the classics at the famous school of deventer. at the age of twenty he was persuaded, somewhat against his will, to enter the order of augustinian canons at steyn. under the patronage of the bishop of cambrai he was enabled to continue his studies at paris. [sidenote: - ] for the next ten years he wandered to england, to various places in northern france and flanders, and italy, learning to know many of the intellectual leaders of the time. from - he was in england, part of the time lecturing at cambridge. he then spent some { } years at louvain, seven years at basle and six years at freiburg in the breisgau, returning to basle for the last year of his life. until he was over thirty erasmus's dominant interest was classical literature. under the influence of colet and of a french franciscan, john vitrier, he turned his attention to liberalizing religion. his first devotional work, _the handbook of the christian knight_, perfectly sets forth his program of spiritual, as opposed to formal, christianity. [sidenote: _enchiridion militis christiani_, ] it all turns upon the distinction between the inner and the outer man, the moral and the sensual. true service of christ is purity of heart and love, not the invocation of saints, fasting and indulgences. in _the praise of folly_ erasmus mildly rebukes the foibles of men. [sidenote: ] there never was kindlier satire, free from the savage scorn of crotus and hutten, and from the didactic scolding of sebastian brant, whose _ship of fools_ [sidenote: ] was one of the author's models. folly is made quite amiable, the source not only of some things that are amiss but also of much harmless enjoyment. the besetting silliness of every class is exposed: of the man of pleasure, of the man of business, of women and of husbands, of the writer and of the pedant. though not unduly emphasized, the folly of current superstitions is held up to ridicule. some there are who have turned the saints into pagan gods; some who have measured purgatory into years and days and cheat themselves with indulgences against it; some theologians who spend all their time discussing such absurdities as whether god could have redeemed men in the form of a woman, a devil, an ass, a squash or a stone, others who explain the mystery of the trinity. in following up his plan for the restoration of a simpler christianity, erasmus rightly thought that a return from the barren subtleties of the schoolmen to { } the primitive sources was essential. he wished to reduce christianity to a moral, humanitarian, undogmatic philosophy of life. his attitude towards dogma was to admit it and to ignore it. scientific enlightenment he welcomed more than did either the catholics or the reformers, sure that if the sermon on the mount survived, christianity had nothing to fear. in like manner, while he did not attack the cult and ritual of the church, he never laid any stress on it. "if some dogmas are incomprehensible and some rites superstitious," he seemed to say, "what does it matter? let us emphasize the ethical and spiritual content of christ's message, for if we seek his kingdom, all else needful shall be added unto us." his favorite name for his religion was the "philosophy of christ," [sidenote: philosophy of christ] and it is thus that he persuasively expounds it in a note, in his greek testament, to matthew xi, : truly the yoke of christ would be sweet and his burden light, if petty human institutions added nothing to what he himself imposed. he commanded us nothing save love one for another, and there is nothing so bitter that charity does not soften and sweeten it. everything according to nature is easily borne, and nothing accords better with the nature of man than the philosophy of christ, of which almost the sole end is to give back to fallen nature its innocence and integrity. . . . how pure, how simple is the faith that christ delivered to us! how close to it is the creed transmitted to us by the apostles, or apostolic men. the church, divided and tormented by discussions and by heresy, added to it many things, of which some can be omitted without prejudice to the faith. . . . there are many opinions from which impiety may be begotten, as for example, all those philosophic doctrines on the reason of the nature and the distinction of the persons of the godhead. . . . the sacraments themselves were instituted for the salvation of men, but we abuse them for lucre, for vain glory or for the oppression of the humble. . . . what rules, what superstitions we have about vestments! how many are judged as to { } their christianity by such trifles, which are indifferent in themselves, which change with the fashion and of which christ never spoke! . . . how many fasts are instituted! and we are not merely invited to fast, but obliged to, on pain of damnation. . . . what shall we say about vows . . . about the authority of the pope, the abuse of absolutions, dispensations, remissions of penalty, law-suits, in which there is much that a truly good man cannot see without a groan? the priests themselves prefer to study aristotle than to ply their ministry. the gospel is hardly mentioned from the pulpit. sermons are monopolized by the commissioners of indulgences; often the doctrine of christ is put aside and suppressed for their profit. . . . would that men were content to let christ rule by the laws of the gospel and that they would no longer seek to strengthen their obscurant tyranny by human decrees! [sidenote: colloquies] in the _familiar colloquies_, first published in and often enlarged in subsequent editions, erasmus brought out his religious ideas most sharply. enormous as were the sales and influence of his other chief writings, they were probably less than those of this work, intended primarily as a text-book of latin style. the first conversations are, indeed, nothing more than school-boy exercises, but the later ones are short stories penned with consummate art. erasmus is almost the only man who, since the fall of rome, has succeeded in writing a really exquisite latin. but his supreme gift was his dry wit, the subtle faculty of exposing an object, apparently by a simple matter-of-fact narrative, to the keenest ridicule. thus, in the _colloquies_, he describes his pilgrimage to st. thomas's shrine at canterbury, the bloody bones and the handkerchief covered with the saint's rheum offered to be kissed--all without a disapproving word and yet in such a way that when the reader has finished it he wonders how anything so silly could ever have existed. thus again he strips the worship of mary, and all the { } stupid and wrong projects she is asked to abet. in the conversation called _the shipwreck_, the people pray to the star of the sea exactly as they did in pagan times, only it is mary, not venus that is meant. they offer mountains of wax candles to the saints to preserve them, although one man confides to his neighbor in a whisper that if he ever gets to land he will not pay one penny taper on his vow. again, in the _colloquy on the new testament_, a young man is asked what he has done for christ. he replies: a certain franciscan keeps reviling the new testament of erasmus in his sermons. well, one day i called on him in private, seized him by the hair with my left hand and punished him with my right. i gave him so sound a drubbing that i reduced his whole face to a mere jelly. what do you say to that? isn't that maintaining the gospel? and then, by way of absolution for his sins i took this book [erasmus's new testament, a folio bound with brass] and gave him three resounding whacks on the head in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy ghost. "that," replies his friend, "was truly evangelic; defending the gospel by the gospel. but really it is time you were turning from a brute beast into a man." so it was that the man who was at once the gentlest christian, the leading scholar, and the keenest wit of his age insinuated his opinions without seeming to attack anything. where luther battered down, he undermined. [sidenote: methods of argument] even when he argued against an opinion he called his polemic a "conversation"--for that is the true meaning of the word diatribe. with choice of soft vocabulary, of attenuated forms, of double negatives, he tempered exquisitely his latin. did he doubt anything? hardly, "he had a shade of doubt" (_subdubito_). did he think he wrote well? not at all, but he confessed that he produced "something more like latin than the average" (_paulo latinius_). did he { } like anything? if so, he only admitted--except when he was addressing his patrons--"that he was not altogether averse to it." but all at once from these feather-light touches, like those of a henry james, comes the sudden thrust that made his stylus a dagger. some of his epigrams on the reformation have been quoted in practically every history of the subject since, and will be quoted as often again. [sidenote: his wit] but it was not a few perfect phrases that made him the power that he was, but an habitual wit that never failed to strip any situation of its vulgar pretense. when a canon of strassburg cathedral was showing him over the chapter house and was boasting of the rule that no one should be admitted to a prebend who had not sixteen quarterings on his coat of arms, the humanist dropped his eyes and remarked demurely, with but the flicker of a smile, that he was indeed honored to be in a religious company so noble that even jesus could not have come up to its requirements. the man was dumfounded, he almost suspected something personal; but he never forgot the salutary lesson so delicately conveyed. erasmus was a man of peace; he feared "the tumult" which, if we trust a letter dated september , --though he sometimes retouched his letters on publishing them--he foresaw. "in this part of the world," he wrote, "i am afraid that a great revolution is impending." it was already knocking at the door! { } chapter ii germany section . the leader it is superfluous in these days to point out that no great historical movement is caused by the personality, however potent, of a single individual. the men who take the helm at crises are those who but express in themselves what the masses of their followers feel. the need of leadership is so urgent that if there is no really great man at hand, the people will invent one, endowing the best of the small men with the prestige of power, and embodying in his person the cause for which they strive. but a really strong personality to some extent guides the course of events by which he is carried along. such a man was luther. [sidenote: luther, - ] few have ever alike represented and dominated an age as did he. his heart was the most passionately earnest, his will the strongest, his brain one of the most capacious of his time; above all he had the gift of popular speech to stamp his ideas into the fibre of his countrymen. if we may borrow a figure from chemistry, he found public opinion a solution supersaturated with revolt; all that was needed to precipitate it was a pebble thrown in, but instead of a pebble he added the most powerful reagent possible. on that october day when columbus discovered the new world, martin, a boy of very nearly nine, was sitting at his desk in the school at mansfeld. though both diligent and quick, he found the crabbed latin primer, itself written in abstract latin, very difficult, and was flogged fourteen times in one morning by { } brutal masters for faltering in a declension. when he returned home he found his mother bending under a load of wood she had gathered in the forest. both she and his father were severe with the children, whipping them for slight faults until the blood came. nevertheless, as the son himself recognized, they meant heartily well by it. but for the self-sacrifice and determination shown by the father, a worker in the newly opened mines, who by his own industry rose to modest comfort, the career of the son would have been impossible. fully as much as by bodily hardship the boy's life was rendered unhappy by spiritual terrors. demons lurked in the storms, and witches plagued his good mother and threatened to make her children cry themselves to death. god and christ were conceived as stern and angry judges ready to thrust sinners into hell. "they painted christ," says luther--and such pictures can still be seen in old churches--"sitting on a rainbow with his mother and john the baptist on either side as intercessors against his frightful wrath." at thirteen he was sent away to magdeburg to a charitable school, and the next year to eisenach, where he spent three years in study. he contributed to his support by the then recognized means of begging, and was sheltered by the pious matron ursula cotta. in he matriculated at the old and famous university of erfurt. [sidenote: erfurt] the curriculum here consisted of logic, dialectic, grammar, and rhetoric, followed by arithmetic, ethics, and metaphysics. there was some natural science, studied not by the experimental method, but wholly from the books of aristotle and his medieval commentators, and there were also a few courses in literature, both in the latin classics and in their later imitators. ranking among the better { } scholars luther took the degrees of bachelor in and of master of arts in , and immediately began the study of jurisprudence. while his diligence and good conduct won golden words from his preceptors he mingled with his comrades as a man with men. he was generous, even prodigal, a musician and a "philosopher"; in disputations he was made "an honorary umpire" by his fellows and teachers. "fair fortune and good health are mine," he wrote a friend on september , , "i am settled at college as pleasantly as possible." for the sudden change that came over his life at the age of twenty-one no adequate explanation has been offered. pious and serious as he was, his thoughts do not seem to have turned towards the monastic life as a boy, nor are the old legends of the sudden death of a friend well substantiated. as he was returning to erfurt from a visit home, he was overtaken by a terrific thunderstorm, in which his excited imagination saw a devine warning to forsake the "world." in a fright he vowed to st. ann to become a monk and, though he at once regretted the rash promise, on july , , he discharged it by entering the augustinian friary at erfurt. after a year's novitiate he took the irrevocable vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. in he was ordained priest. in the winter of - he was sent to rome on business of the order, and there saw much of the splendor and also of the corruption of the capital of christendom. having started, in , to teach aristotle at the recently founded university of wittenberg, a year later he returned to erfurt, but was again called to wittenberg to lecture on the bible, a position he held all his life. [sidenote: ] during his first ten years in the cloister he underwent a profound experience. he started with the horrible and torturing idea that he was doomed to hell. { } "what can i do," he kept asking, "to win a gracious god?" the answer given him by his teachers was that a man must work out his own salvation, not entirely, but largely, by his own efforts. the sacraments of the church dispensed grace and life to the recipient, and beyond this he could merit forgiveness by the asceticism and privation of the monastic life. luther took this all in and strove frantically by fasting, prayer, and scourging to fit himself for redemption. but though he won the reputation of a saint, he could not free himself from the desires of the flesh. he was helpless; he could do nothing. then he read in augustine that virtue without grace is but a specious vice; that god damns and saves utterly without regard to man's work. he read in tauler and the other mystics that the only true salvation is union with god, and that if a man were willing to be damned for god's glory he would find heaven even in hell. he read in lefèvre d'Étaples that a man is not saved by doing good, but by faith, like the thief on the cross. in may, , he began to lecture on paul's epistles to the romans, and pondered the verse (i, ) "the just shall live by his faith." [sidenote: justification by faith only] all at once, so forcibly that he believed it a revelation of the holy ghost, the thought dawned upon him that whereas man was impotent to do or be good, god was able freely to make him so. pure passivity in god's hands, simple abandonment to his will was the only way of salvation; not by works but by faith in the redeemer was man sanctified. the thought, though by no means new in christianity, was, in the application he gave it, the germ of the religious revolution. in it was contained the total repudiation of the medieval ecclesiastical system of salvation by sacrament and by the good works of the cloister. to us nowadays the thought seems remote; the question which called it forth outworn. but to the { } sixteenth century it was as intensely practical as social reform is now; the church was everywhere with her claim to rule over men's daily lives and over their souls. all progress was conditioned on breaking her claims, and probably nothing could have done it so thoroughly as this idea of justification by faith only. the thought made luther a reformer at once. he started to purge his order of pharisaism, and the university of the dross of aristotle. soon he was called upon to protest against one of the most obtrusive of the "good works" recommended by the church, the purchase of indulgences. albert of hohenzollern was elected, through political influence and at an early age, to the archiepiscopal sees of magdeburg and mayence, this last carrying with it an electorate and the primacy of germany. for confirmation from the pope in the uncanonical occupation of these offices, albert paid a huge sum, the equivalent of several hundred thousand dollars today. mayence was already in debt and the young archbishop knew not where to turn for money. to help him, and to raise money for rome, leo x declared an indulgence. in order to get a large a profit as possible albert employed as his chief agent an unscrupulous dominican named john tetzel. [sidenote: tetzel] this man went around the country proclaiming that as soon as the money clinked in the chest the soul of some dead relative flew from purgatory, and that by buying a papal pardon the purchaser secured plenary remission of sins and the grace of god. the indulgence-sellers were forbidden to enter saxony, but they came very near it, and many of the people of wittenberg went out to buy heaven at a bargain. luther was sickened by seeing what he believed to be the deception of the poor people in being taught to rely on these wretched papers instead of on real, lively faith. he accordingly called their value in question, { } in ninety-five theses, or heads for a scholastic debate, which he nailed to the door of the castle church on october , . [sidenote: the ninety-five theses, ] he pointed out that the doctrine of the church was very uncertain, especially in regard to the freeing of souls from purgatory; that contrition was the only gate to god's pardon; that works of charity were better than buying of indulgences, and that the practices of the indulgence-sellers were extremely scandalous and likely to foment heresy among the simple. in all this he did not directly deny the whole value of indulgences, but he pared it down to a minimum. the theses were printed by luther and sent around to friends in other cities. they were at once put into german, and applauded to the echo by the whole nation. everybody had been resentful of the extortion of greedy ecclesiastics and disgusted with their hypocrisy. all welcomed the attack on the "holy trade," as its supporters called it. tetzel was mobbed and had to withdraw in haste. the pardons no longer had any sale. the authorities took alarm at once. leo x directed the general of the augustinians to make his presumptuous brother recant. [sidenote: february , ] the matter was accordingly brought up at the general chapter of the order held at heidelberg in may. luther was present, was asked to retract, and refused. on the contrary he published a sermon on indulgence and grace and a defence of the theses stating his points more strongly than before. the whole of germany was now in commotion. the diet which met at augsburg in the summer of was extremely hostile to the pope and to his legate, cardinal cajetan. at the instance of this theologian, who had written a reply to the theses, and of the dominicans, wounded in the person of tetzel, luther was summoned to rome to be tried. on august the { } emperor maximilian promised his aid to the pope, and in order to expedite matters, the latter changed the summons to rome to a citation before cajetan at augsburg, at the same time instructing the legate to seize the heretic if he did not recant. at this juncture luther was not left in the lurch by his own sovereign, frederic the wise, elector of saxony, through whom an imperial safe-conduct was procured. armed with this, the wittenberg professor appeared before cajetan at augsburg, was asked to recant two of his statements on indulgences, and refused. [sidenote: october - , ] a few days later luther drew up an appeal "from the pope badly informed to the pope to be better informed," and in the following month appealed again from the pope to a future oecumenical council. in the meantime leo x, in the bull _cum postquam_, authoritatively defined the doctrine of indulgences in a sense contrary to the position of luther. the next move of the vicar of christ was to send to germany a special agent, the saxon charles von miltitz, with instructions either to cajole the heretic into retraction or the elector into surrendering him. in neither of these attempts was he successful. [sidenote: january ] at an interview with luther the utmost he could do was to secure a general statement that the accused man would abide by the decision of the holy see, and a promise to keep quiet as long as his opponents did the same. such a compromise was sure to be fruitless, for the champions of the church could not let the heretic rest for a moment. the whole affair was given a wider publicity than it had hitherto attained, and at the same time luther was pushed to a more advanced position than he had yet reached, by the attack of a theologian of ingolstadt, john eck. when he assailed the theses on the ground that they seriously impaired the authority of the roman see, luther retorted: { } the assertion that the roman church is superior to all other churches is proved only by weak and vain papal decrees of the last four hundred years, and is repugnant to the accredited history of the previous eleven hundred years, to the bible, and to the decree of the holiest of all councils, the nicene. [sidenote: the leipzig debate, ] a debate on this and other propositions between eck on the one side and luther and his colleague carlstadt on the other took place at leipzig in the days from june to july , . the climax of the argument on the power of popes and councils came when eck, skilfully manoeuvring to show that luther's opinions were identical with those of huss, forced from his opponent the bold declaration that "among the opinions of john huss and the bohemians many are certainly most christian and evangelic, and cannot be condemned by the universal church." the words sent a thrill through the audience and throughout christendom. eck could only reply: "if you believe that a general council, legitimately convoked, can err, you are to me a heathen and a publican." reconciliation was indeed no longer possible. when luther had protested against the abuse of indulgences he did so as a loyal son of the church. now at last he was forced to raise the standard of revolt, at least against rome, the recognized head of the church. he had begun by appealing from indulgence-seller to pope, then from the pope to a universal council; now he declared that a great council had erred, and that he would not abide by its decision. the issue was a clear one, though hardly recognized as such by himself, between the religion of authority and the right of private judgment. his opposition to the papacy developed with extraordinary rapidity. his study of the canon law made him, as early as march, , brand the pope as either antichrist or antichrist's apostle. he { } applauded melancthon, a brilliant young man called to teach at wittenberg in , for denying transubstantiation. he declared that the cup should never have been withheld from the laity, and that the mass considered as a good work and a sacrifice was an abomination. his eyes were opened to the iniquities of rome by valla's exposure of the donation of constantine, published by ulrich von hutten in . after reading it he wrote: good heavens! what darkness and wickedness is at rome! you wonder at the judgment of god that such unauthentic, crass, impudent lies not only lived but prevailed for many centuries, that they were incorporated into the canon law, and (that no degree of horror might be wanting) that they became as articles of faith. like german troops luther was best in taking the offensive. these early years when he was standing almost alone and attacking one abuse after another, were the finest of his whole career. later, when he came to reconstruct a church, he modified or withdrew much of what he had at first put forward, and re-introduced a large portion of the medieval religiosity which he had once so successfully and fiercely attacked. the year saw him at the most advanced point he ever attained. it was then that he produced, with marvellous fecundity, a series of pamphlets unequalled by him and unexcelled anywhere, both in the incisive power of their attack on existing institutions and in the popular force of their language. [sidenote: _to the christian nobility_, ] his greatest appeal to his countrymen was made in his _address to the christian nobility of the german nation on the improvement of the christian estate_. in this he asserts the right of the civil power to reform the spiritual, and urges the government to exercise this right. the priests, says he, defend themselves against all outside interference by three "walls," of { } which the first is the claim that the church is superior to the state, in case the civil authority presses them; the second, the assertion, if one would correct them by the bible, that no one can interpret it but the pope; the third, if they are threatened with a general council, the contention that no one can convoke such a council save the pope. luther demolishes these walls with words of vast import. first, he denies any distinction between the spiritual and temporal estates. every baptized christian, he asserts, is a priest, and in this saying he struck a mortal blow at the great hierarchy of privilege and theocratic tyranny built up by the middle ages. the second wall is still frailer than the first, says the writer, for anyone can see that in spite of the priests' claims to be masters of the bible they never learn one word of it their whole life long. the third wall falls of itself, for the bible plainly commands everyone to punish and correct any wrong-doer, no matter what his station. [sidenote: reform measures] after this introduction luther proposes measures of reform equally drastic and comprehensive. the first twelve articles are devoted to the pope, the annates, the appointment of foreigners to german benefices, the appeal of cases to rome, the asserted authority of the papacy over bishops, the emperor, and other rulers. all these abuses, as well as jubilees and pilgrimages to rome should be simply forbidden by the civil government. the next three articles deal with sacerdotal celibacy, recommending that priests be allowed to marry, and calling for the suppression of many of the cloisters. it is further urged that foundations for masses and for the support of idle priests be abolished, that various vexatious provisions of the canon law be repealed, and that begging on any pretext be prohibited. the twenty-fourth article deals with the bohemian schism, saying that huss was wrongly { } burned, and calling for union with the hussites who deny transubstantiation and demand the cup for the laity. next, the writer takes up the reform of education in the interests of a more biblical religion. finally, he urges that sumptuary laws be passed, that a bridle be put in the mouth of the great monopolists and usurers, and that brothels be no longer tolerated. of all the writer's works this probably had the greatest and most immediate influence. some, indeed, were offended by the violence of the language, defended by luther from the example of the bible and by the necessity of rousing people to the enormities he attacked. but most hailed it as a "trumpet-blast" calling the nation to arms. four thousand copies were sold in a few days, and a second edition was called for within a month. voicing ideas that had been long, though vaguely, current, it convinced almost all of the need of a reformation. according to their sympathies men declared that the devil or the holy ghost spoke through luther. [sidenote: the babylonian captivity, ] though less popular both in form and subject, _the babylonian captivity of the church_ was not less important than the _address to the german nobility_. it was a mortal blow at the sacramental system of the church. in judging it we must again summon the aid of our historical imagination. in the sixteenth century dogmas not only seemed but were matters of supreme importance. it was just by her sacramental system, by her claim to give the believer eternal life and salvation through her rites, that the church had imposed her yoke on men. as long as that belief remained intact progress in thought, in freedom of conscience, in reform, remained difficult. and here, as is frequently the case, the most effective arguments were not those which seem to us logically the strongest. luther made no appeal to reason as such. he { } appealed to the bible, recognized by all christians as an authority, and showed how far the practice of the church had degenerated from her standard. [sidenote: sacraments] in the first place he reduced the number of sacraments, denying that name to matrimony, orders, extreme unction and confirmation. in attacking orders he demolished the priestly ideal and authority. in reducing marriage to a civil contract he took a long step towards the secularization of life. penance he considered a sacrament in a certain sense, though not in the strict one, and he showed that it had been turned by the church from its original significance of "repentance" [ ] to that of sacramental penance, in which no faith was required but merely an automatic act. baptism and the eucharist he considered the only true sacraments, and he seriously criticized the prevalent doctrine of the latter. he denied that the mass is a sacrifice or a "good work" pleasing to god and therefore beneficial to the soul either of living or of dead. he denied that the bread and wine are transubstantiated into the body and blood of jesus, though he held that the body and blood are really present with the elements. he demanded that the cup be given to the laity. the whole trend of luther's thought at this time was to oppose the catholic theory of a mechanical distribution of grace and salvation (the so-called _opus operatum_) by means of the sacraments, and to substitute for it an individual conception of religion in which faith only should be necessary. how far he carried this idea may be seen in his _sermon on the new testament, that is on the holy mass_,[ ] published in the same year as the pamphlets just analysed. in it he makes the essence of the sacrament forgiveness, and the vehicle of this forgiveness the word of god apprehended by { } faith, _not_ the actual participation in the sacred bread and wine. had he always been true to this conception he would have left no place for sacrament or priest at all. but in later years he grew more conservative, until, under slightly different names, almost the old medieval ideas of church and religion were again established, and, as milton later expressed it, "new presbyter was but old priest writ large." [ ] in latin _penitentia_ means both penance and repentance. [ ] _cf_. matthew, xxvi, . section . the revolution [sidenote: germany] although the germans had arrived, by the end of the fifteenth century, at a high degree of national self-consciousness, they had not, like the french and english, succeeded in forming a corresponding political unity. the holy roman empire of the german nation, though continuing to assert the vast claims of the roman world-state, was in fact but a loose confederacy of many and very diverse territories. on a map drawn to the scale : , , nearly a hundred separate political entities can be counted within the limits of the empire and there were many others too small to appear. the rulers of seven of these territories elected the emperor; they were the three spiritual princes, the archbishops of mayence, trèves and cologne, the three german temporal princes, the electors of the rhenish palatinate, saxony, and brandenburg, and in addition the king of bohemia, who, save for purposes of the imperial choice, did not count as a member of the germanic body. besides these there were some powerful dukedoms, like austria and bavaria, and numerous smaller bishoprics and counties. there were also many free cities, like augsburg and nuremberg, small aristocratic republics. finally there was a large body of "free knights" or barons, whose tiny fiefs amounted often to no more than a castle and a few acres, but who owned no feudal superior save { } the emperor. the unity of the empire was expressed not only in the person of the emperor, but in the diet which met at different places at frequent intervals. its authority, though on the whole increasing, was small. with no imperial system of taxation, no professional army and no centralized administration, the real power of the emperor dwindled. such as it was he derived it from the fact that he was always elected from one of the great houses. since the hapsburgs, archdukes of austria, had held the imperial office. since there was also an imperial supreme court of arbitration. [sidenote: ] the first imperial tax was levied in to equip a force against the hussites. in the fifteenth century also the rudiments of a central administration were laid in the division of the realm into ten "circles," and the levy of a small number of soldiers. and yet, at the time of the reformation, the empire was little better than a state in dissolution through the centrifugal forces of feudalism. so little was the empire an individual unit that the policy of her rulers themselves was not imperial. the statesmanship of maximilian was something smaller than national; it was that of his archduchy of austria. the policy of his successor, on the other hand, was determined by something larger than germany, the consideration of the spanish and burgundian states that he also ruled. maximilian tried in every way to aggrandize his personal power, not that of the german nation. [sidenote: maximilian i, - ] the diet of worms of tried to remodel the constitution. it proclaimed a perpetual public peace, provided that those who broke it should be outlawed, and placed the duty of executing the ban upon all territories within ninety miles of the offender. it also passed a bill for taxation, called the "common penny," which combined features of a poll tax, an { } income tax and a property tax. the difficulty of collecting it was great; maximilian himself as a territorial prince tried to evade it instead of setting his subjects the good example of paying it. he probably derived no more than the trifling sum of , - , gulden from it annually. the diet also revived the supreme court and gave it a permanent home at frankfort-on-the-main. feeble efforts to follow up this beginning of reform were made in subsequent diets, but they failed owing to the insuperable jealousies of the princes and because the party of national unity lost the sympathy of the common people, to whom alone they could look for support. maximilian's external policy, though adventurous and unstable, was somewhat more successful. his only principle was to grasp whatever opportunity seemed to offer. thus at one time he seriously proposed to have himself elected pope. his marriage with mary, the daughter of charles the bold, added to the estates of his house burgundy--the land comprising what is now belgium, luxemburg, most of holland and large portions of north-eastern france. on the death of mary, in , maximilian had much trouble in getting himself acknowledged as regent of her lands for their son philip the handsome. a part of the domain he also lost in a war with france. this was more than made up, however, by the brilliant match he made for philip in securing for him the hand of mad joanna, the daughter and heiress of ferdinand and isabella of spain. this marriage produced two sons, charles and ferdinand. the deaths of isabella ( ), of philip ( ) and of ferdinand of aragon ( ) left charles at the age of sixteen the ruler of burgundy and of spain with its immense dependencies in italy and in america. [sidenote: charles v, - ] from this time forth the policy of maximilian concentrated in the effort to { } secure the succession of his eldest grandson to the imperial throne. when maximilian died on january , , there were several candidates for election. so little was the office considered national that the kings of france and england entered the lists, and the former, francis i, actually at one time secured the promise of votes from the majority of electors. pope leo made explicit engagements to both charles and francis to support their claims, and at the same time instructed his legate to labor for the choice of a german prince, either frederic of saxony, if he would in return give up luther, or else joachim of brandenburg. but at no time was the election seriously in doubt. the electors followed the only possible course in choosing charles on june . they profited, however, by the rivalry of the rich king of france to extort enormous bribes and concessions from charles. the banking house of fugger supplied the necessary funds, and in addition the agents of the emperor-elect were obliged to sign a "capitulation" making all sorts of concessions to the princes. one of these, exacted by frederic of saxony in the interest of luther, was that no subject should be outlawed without being heard. the settlement of the imperial election enabled the pope once more to turn his attention to the suppression of the rapidly growing heresy. after the leipzig debate the universities of cologne and louvain had condemned luther's positions. eck went to rome in march, , and impressed the curia, which was already planning a bull condemning the heretic, with the danger of delay. after long discussions the bull _exsurge domine_ was ratified by the college of cardinals and promulgated by leo on june . [sidenote: bull against luther, ] in this, forty-one of luther's sayings, relating to the sacraments of penance and the eucharist, to indulgences and { } the power of the pope, to free will and purgatory, and to a few other matters, were anathematized as heretical or scandalous or false or offensive to pious ears. his books were condemned and ordered to be burnt, and unless he should recant within sixty days of the posting of the bull in germany he was to be considered a heretic and dealt with accordingly. eck was entrusted with the duty of publishing this fulmination in germany, and performed the task in the last days of september. the time given luther in which to recant therefore expired two months later. instead of doing so he published several answers to "the execrable bull of anti-christ," and on december publicly and solemnly burnt it, together with the whole canon law. this he had come to detest, partly as containing the "forged decretals," partly as the sanction for a vast mechanism of ecclesiastical use and abuse, repugnant to his more personal theology. the dramatic act, which sent a thrill throughout europe, symbolized the passing of some medieval accretions on primitive christianity. there was nothing left for the pope but to excommunicate the heretic, as was done in the bull _decet pontificem romanum_ drawn up at rome in january, [sidenote: ] and published at worms on may . in the meantime charles had come to germany. for more than a year after his election he remained in spain, where his position was very insecure on account of the revolt against his burgundian officers. arriving in the netherlands in the summer of charles was met by the special nuncios of the pope, caracciolo and aleander. after he was crowned emperor at aix-la-chapelle, he opened his first diet, at worms. [sidenote: october , january , the diet of worms] before this august assembly came three questions of highest import. the first related to the dynastic { } policy of the hapsburgs. for the chronic war with france an army of , men and a tax of , gulden was voted. the disposition of württemberg caused some trouble. duke ulrich had been deposed for rebellion in , and his land taken from him by the swabian league and sold to the emperor in . together with the austrian lands, which charles secretly handed over to his young brother ferdinand, this territory made the nucleus of hapsburg power in germany. the diet then took up the question of constitutional reform. in order to have a permanent administrative body, necessary during the long absences of the emperor, an imperial council of regency was established and given a seat at nuremberg. [sidenote: council of regency] the emperor nominated the president and four of the twenty-two other members; each of the six german electors nominated one member; six were chosen by the circles into which the empire was divided and six were elected by the other estates. the powers of the council were limited to the times when the emperor was away. the third question treated by the diet was the religious one. as usual, they drew up a long list of grievances against the pope, to which many good catholics in the assembly subscribed. next they considered what to do with luther. charles himself, who could speak no language but french, and had no sympathy whatever with a rebel from any authority spiritual or temporal, would much have preferred to outlaw the wittenberg professor at once, but he was bound by his promise to frederic of saxony. of the six electors, who sat apart from the other estates, frederic was strongly for luther, the elector palatine was favorably inclined towards him, and the archbishop of mayence represented a mediating policy. the other three electors were opposed. among the { } lesser princes a considerable minority was for luther, whereas among the representatives of the free cities and of the knights, probably a majority were his followers. the common people, though unrepresented, applauded luther, and their clamors could not pass unheeded even by the aristocratic members of the diet. [sidenote: february ] the debate was opened by aleander in a speech dwelling on the sacramental errors of the heretic and the similarity of his movement to that of the detested bohemians. after a stormy session the estates decided to summon the bold saxon before them and accordingly a citation, together with a safe-conduct, was sent him. though there was some danger in obeying the summons, luther's journey to worms, was a triumphal progress. brought before the diet in the late afternoon of april , he was asked if a certain number of books, the titles of which were read, were his and if he would recant the heresy contained in them. the form of the questions took him by surprise, for he had expected to be confronted with definite charges and to be allowed to defend his positions. he accordingly asked for time, and was granted one more day. [sidenote: april , ] on his second appearance he made a great oration admitting that the books were his and closing with the words: unless i am convicted by scripture or by right reason (for i trust neither popes nor councils since they have often erred and contradicted themselves) . . . i neither can nor will recant anything since it is neither safe nor right to act against conscience. god help me. amen. there he stood, braving the world, for he could do no other. . . . he left the hall the hero of his nation. hoping still to convince him of error, catholic theologians held protracted but fruitless conferences with him before his departure from worms on the th of { } april. the sympathy of the people with him was shown by the posting at worms of placards threatening his enemies. charles was sincerely shocked and immediately drew up a statement that he would hazard life and lands on the maintenance of the catholic faith of his fathers. an edict was drafted by aleander on the model of one promulgated in september in the netherlands. [sidenote: luther banned] the edict of worms put luther under the ban of the empire, commanded his surrender to the government at the expiration of his safe-conduct, and forbade all to shelter him or to read his writings. though dated on may , to make it synchronize with a treaty between charles and leo, the edict was not passed by the diet until may . at this time many of the members had gone home, and the law was forced on the remaining ones, contrary to the wishes of the majority, by intrigue and imperial pressure. after leaving worms luther was taken by his prince, frederic the wise, and placed for safe-keeping in the wartburg, a fine old castle near eisenach. [sidenote: the wartburg] here he remained in hiding for nearly a year, while doing some of his most important work. here he wrote his treatise _on monastic vows_, declaring that they are wrong and invalid and urging all priests, nuns and monks to leave the cloister and to marry. in thus freeing thousands of men and women from a life often unproductive and sterile luther achieved one of the greatest of his practical reforms. at the wartburg also luther began his translation of the bible. the new testament appeared in september , and the old testament followed in four parts, the last published in . [sidenote: the radicals] while luther was in retirement at the wartburg, his colleagues carlstadt and melanchthon, and the augustinian friar gabriel zwilling, took up the movement at wittenberg and carried out reforms more radical { } than those of their leader. the endowments of masses were confiscated and applied to the relief of the poor on new and better principles. prostitution was suppressed. a new order of divine service was introduced, in which the words purporting that the mass was a sacrifice were omitted, and communion was given to the laity in both kinds. priests were urged to marry, and monks were almost forced to leave the cloister. an element of mob violence early manifested itself both at wittenberg and elsewhere. an outbreak at erfurt against the clergy occurred in june, , and by the end of the year riots took place at wittenberg. even now, at the dawn of the revolution, appeared the beginnings of those sects, more radical than the lutheran, commonly known as anabaptist. the small industrial town of zwickau had long been a hotbed of waldensian heresy. under the guidance of thomas münzer the clothweavers of this place formed a religious society animated by the desire to renovate both church and state by the readiest and roughest means. suppression of the movement at zwickau by the government resulted only in the banishment, or escape, of some of the leaders. [sidenote: december , ] three of them found their way to wittenberg, where they proclaimed themselves prophets divinely inspired, and conducted a revival marked with considerable, though harmless, extravagance. [sidenote: january , ] as the radicals at wittenberg made the whole of northern germany uneasy, the imperial council of regency issued a mandate forbidding all the innovations and commanding the elector of saxony to stop them. it is remarkable that luther in this felt exactly as did the catholics. early in march he returned to wittenberg with the express purpose of checking the reforms which had already gone too far { } for him. his personal ascendency was so great that he found no trouble in doing so. not only the zwickau prophets, but carlstadt and zwilling were discredited. almost all their measures were repealed, including those on divine service which was again restored almost to the catholic form. not until were a simple communion service and the use of german again introduced. [sidenote: rebellion of the knights, - ] it soon became apparent that all orders and all parts of germany were in a state of ferment. the next manifestation of the revolutionary spirit was the rebellion of the knights. this class, now in a state of moral and economic decay, had long survived any usefulness it had ever had. the rise of the cities, the aggrandizement of the princes, and the change to a commercial from a feudal society all worked to the disadvantage of the smaller nobility and gentry. about the only means of livelihood left them was freebooting, and that was adopted without scruple and without shame. envious of the wealthy cities, jealous of the greater princes and proud of their tenure immediately from the emperor, the knights longed for a new germany, more centralized, more national, and, of course, under their special direction. in the lutheran movement they thought they saw their opportunity; in ulrich von hutten they found their trumpet, in francis von sickingen their sword. a knight himself, but with possessions equal to those of many princes, a born warrior, but one who knew how to use the new weapons, gold and cannon, sickingen had for years before he heard of luther kept aggrandizing his power by predatory feuds. so little honor had he, that though appointed to high military command in the campaign against france, he tried to win personal advantage by treason, playing off the emperor against king francis, with whom, for a long time, he almost { } openly sided. in he fell under the influence of hutten, who urged him to espouse the cause of the "gospel" as that of german liberty. by august he became convinced that the time was ripe for action, and issued a manifesto proclaiming that the feudal dues had become unbearable, and giving the impression that he was acting as an ally of luther, although the latter knew nothing of his intentions and would have heartily disapproved of his methods. sickingen's first march was against trèves. the archbishop's "unchristian cannon" forced him to retire from this city. on october the council of regency declared him an outlaw. a league formed by trèves, the palatinate and hesse, defeated him and captured his castle at landstuhl in may, . mortally wounded he died on may . alike unhurt and unhelped by such incidents as the revolt of the knights, the main current of religious revolution swept onwards. leo x died on december , , and in his place was elected adrian of utrecht, a man of very different character. [sidenote: adrian vi, - ] though he had already taken a strong stand against luther, he was deeply resolved to reform the corruption of the church. to the diet called at nuremberg [sidenote: diet of nuremberg, ] in the latter part of he sent as legate chieregato with a brief demanding the suppression of the schism. it was monstrous, said he, that one little brother should seduce a whole nation from the path trodden by so many martyrs and learned doctors. do you suppose, he asked, that the people will longer respect civil government if they are taught to despise the canons and decrees of the spiritual power? at the same time adrian wrote to chieregato: say that we frankly confess that god permits this persecution of his church on account of the sins of men, especially those of the priests and prelates. . . . we { } know that in this holy see now for some years there have been many abominations, abuses in spiritual things, excesses in things commanded, in short, that all has become perverted. . . . we have all turned aside in our ways, nor was there, for a long time, any who did right,--no, not one. this confession rather strengthened the reform party, than otherwise, making its demands seem justified; and all that the diet did towards the settlement of the religious question was to demand that a council, with representation of the laity, should be called in a german city. a long list of grievances against the church was again drawn up and laid before the emperor. the same diet took up other matters. the need for reform and the impotence of the council of regency had both been demonstrated by the sickingen affair. a law against monopolies was passed, limiting the capital of any single company to fifty thousand gulden. in order to provide money for the central government a customs duty of per cent. ad valorem was ordered. both these measures weighed on the cities, which accordingly sent an embassy to charles. they succeeded in inducing him to disallow both laws. [sidenote: diet of nuremberg, ] the next diet, which assembled at nuremberg early in , naturally refrained from passing more futile laws for the emperor to veto, but on the other hand it took a stronger stand than ever on the religious question. the edict of worms was still nominally in force and was still to all intents and purposes flouted. luther was at large and his followers were gaining. in reply to a demand from the government that the edict should be strictly carried out, the diet passed a resolution that it should be observed by each state as far as its prince deemed it possible. despairing of an oecumenical council the estates demanded that a { } german national synod be called at spires before the close of the year with power to decide on what was to be done for the time being. there is no doubt that by this time the public opinion of north germany, at least, was thoroughly lutheran. ferdinand hardly exaggerated when he wrote his brother that throughout the empire there was scarce one person in a thousand not infected with the new doctrines. [sidenote: ] the place now occupied by newspapers and weekly reviews was taken by a vast swarm of pamphlets, most of which have survived. [sidenote: popular pamphlets] those of the years immediately following the diet of worms reveal the first enthusiasm of the people for the "gospel." the greater part of the broadsides produced are concerned with the leader and his doctrines. the comparison of him to huss was a favorite one. one pamphleteer, at least, drew the parallel between his trial at worms and that of christ before pilate. the whole bent of men's minds was theological. doctrines which now seem a little quaint and trite were argued with new fervor by each writer. the destruction of images, the question of the real presence in the sacrament, justification by faith, and free will were disputed. above all the bible was lauded in the new translation, and the priests continued, as before, to be the favorite butt of sarcasm. among the very many writers of these tracts the playwright of nuremberg, hans sachs, took a prominent place. in he published his poem on "the nightingale of wittenberg, whose voice sounds in the glorious dawn over hill and dale." this bird is, of course, luther, and the fierce lion who has sought his life is leo. [sidenote: hans sachs] the next year hans sachs published no less than three pamphlets favoring the reform. they were: . a disputation between a canon and a shoemaker, defending the word of god and the christian { } estate. . conversation on the hypocritical works of the clergy and their vows, by which they hope to be saved to the disparagement of christ's blood. . a dialogue against the roman avarice. multiply these pamphlets, the contents of which is indicated by their titles, by one hundred, and we arrive at some conception of the pabulum on which the people grew to protestantism. of course there were many pamphlets on the other side, but here, as in a thousand other cases, the important thing proved to be to have the cause ventilated. so long as discussion was forced in the channels selected by the reformers, even the interest excited by their adversaries redounded ultimately to their advantage. [sidenote: the peasants' war, - ] the denunciation of authority, together with the message of the excellence of the humblest christian and the brotherhood of man, powerfully contributed to the great rising of the lower classes, known as the peasants' war, in - . it was not, as the name implied, confined to the rustics, for probably as large a proportion of the populace of cities as of the tillers of the soil joined it. nor was there in it anything entirely new. the cry for justice was of long standing, and every single element of the revolt, including the hatred of the clergy and demand for ecclesiastical reform, is to be found also in previous risings. thus, the rebellion of peasants under hans böhm, commonly called the piper of niklashausen, in , was brought about by a religious appeal. the leader asserted that he had special revelations from the virgin mary that serfdom was to be abolished, and the kingdom of god to be introduced by the levelling of all social ranks; and he produced miracles to certify his divine calling. there had also been two risings, closely connected, the first, in , deriving its name of "bundschuh" from the peasant's tied shoe, a class emblem, and the { } second, in , called "poor conrad" after the peasant's nickname. if the memory of the suppression of all these revolts might dampen the hopes of the poor, on the other hand the successful rise of the swiss democracy was a perpetual example and encouragement to them. [sidenote: causes] the most fundamental cause of all these risings alike was, of course, the cry of the oppressed for justice. this is eternal, as is also one of the main alignments into which society usually divides itself, the opposition of the poor and the rich. it is therefore not very important to inquire whether the lot of the third estate was getting better or worse during the first quarter of the sixteenth century. in either case there was a great load of wrong and tyranny to be thrown off. but the question is not uninteresting in itself. as there are diametrically opposite answers to it, both in the testimony of contemporaries and in the opinion of modern scholars, it is perhaps incapable of being answered. in some districts, and in some respects, the lot of the poor was becoming a little easier; in other lands and in different ways it was becoming harder. the time was one of general prosperity, in which the peasant often shared. the newer methods of agriculture, manufacture and commerce benefited him who knew how to take advantage of them. that some did so may be inferred from the statement of sebastian brant that the rustics dress like nobles, in satin and gold chains. on the other hand the rising prices would bear hard on those laborers dependent on fixed wages, though relieving the burden of fixed rents. the whole people, except the merchants, disliked the increasing cost of living and legislated against it to the best of their ability. complaints against monopoly were common, and the diets sometimes enacted laws against them. foreign trade was looked on with { } suspicion as draining the country of silver and gold. again, although the peasants benefited by the growing stability of government, they felt as a grievance the introduction of the new roman law with its emphasis upon the rights of property and of the state. burdens directly imposed by the territorial governments were probably increasing. if the exactions from the landlords were not becoming greater, it was simply because they were always at a maximum. at no time was the rich gentleman at a loss to find law and precedent for wringing from his serfs and tenants all that they could possibly pay. [sidenote: peasant classes] the peasants were of three classes: the serfs, the tenants who paid a quit-rent, and hired laborers. the former, more than the others, perhaps, had now arrived at the determination to assert their rights. for them the peasants' war was the inevitable break with a long economic past, now intolerable and hopeless. there is some evidence to show that the number of serfs was increasing. this process, by menacing the freedom of the others, united all in the resolve to stop the gradual enslavement of their class, to reckon with those who benefited by it. how little now there was in the ideals of the last and most terrible of the peasant risings may be seen by a study of the programs of reform put forward from time to time during the preceding century. there is nothing in the manifestos of that may not be found in the pamphlets of the fifteenth century. the grievances are the same, and the hope of a completely renovated and communized society is the same. one of the most influential of these socialistic pamphlets was the so-called _reformation of the emperor sigismund_, written by an augsburg clergyman about , first printed in , and reprinted a number of times before the end of the century. its title bears witness to the messianic belief of the people that one of their { } great, old emperors should sometime return and restore the world to a condition of justice and happiness. the present tract preached that "obedience was dead and justice sick"; it attacked serfdom as wicked, denounced the ecclesiastical law and demanded the freedom given by christ. the same doctrine, adapted to the needs of the time, is preached in the _reformation of the emperor frederic iii_, published anonymously in . though more radical than luther it reflects some of his ideas. still more, however, does it embody the reforms proposed at nuremberg in . it may probably have been written by george rüxner, called jerusalem, an imperial herald prominent in these circles. it advocated the abolition of all taxes and tithes, the repeal of all imperial civil laws, the reform of the clergy, the confiscation of ecclesiastical property, and the limitation of the amount of capital allowed any one merchant to , gulden. though there was nothing new in either the manner of oppression or in the demands of the third estate during the last decade preceding the great rebellion, there does seem to be a new atmosphere, or tone, in the literature addressed to the lower classes. while on the one hand the poor were still mocked and insulted as they always had been by foolish and heartless possessors of inherited wealth and position, from other quarters they now began to be also flattered and courted. the peasant became in the large pamphlet literature of the time an ideal figure, the type of the plain, honest, god-fearing man. [sidenote: the peasant idealized] nobles like duke ulrich of württemberg affected to be called by popular nicknames. carlstadt and other learned men proclaimed that the peasant knew better the word of god and the way of salvation than did the learned. many radical preachers, especially the anabaptist { } münzer, carried the message of human brotherhood to the point of communism. there were a number of lay preachers, the most celebrated being the physician hans maurer, who took the sobriquet "karsthans." this name, "the man with the hoe," soon became one of the catch-words of the time, and made its way into popular speech as a synonym for the simple and pious laborer. hutten took it up and urged the people to seize flails and pitchforks and smite the clergy and the pope as they would the devil. [sidenote: ] others preached hatred of the jews, of the rich, of lawyers. above all they appealed to the bible as the devine law, and demanded a religious reform as a condition and preliminary to a thorough renovation of society. although luther himself from the first opposed all forms of violence, his clarion voice rang out in protest against the injustice of the nobles. "the people neither can nor will endure your tyranny any longer," he said to them in , "god will not endure it; the world is not what it once was when you drove and hunted men like wild beasts." the rising began at stühlingen, not far from the swiss frontier, in june , and spread with considerable rapidity northward, until the greater part of germany was in the throes of revolution. the rebels were able to make headway because most of the regular troops had been withdrawn to the turkish front or to italy to fight the emperor's battle against france. in south germany, during the first six months, the gatherings of peasants and townsmen were eminently peaceable. they wished only to negotiate with their masters and to secure some practical reforms. but when the revolt spread to franconia and saxony, a much more radically socialistic program was developed and the rebels showed themselves readier to enforce their demands by arms. for the year there { } was no general manifesto put forward, but there were negotiations between the insurgents and their quondam masters. in this district or in that, lists of very specific grievances were presented and redress demanded. in some cases merely to gain time, in others sincerely, the lords consented to reply to these petitions. they denied this or that charge, and they promised to end this or that form of oppression. neither side was prepared for civil war. in all it was more like a modern strike than anything else. in the early months of several programs were drawn up of a more general nature than those previously composed, and yet by no means radical. the most famous of these was called _the twelve articles_, printed and widely circulated in february. [sidenote: _the twelve articles_] the exact place at which they originated is unknown. the authorship has been much disputed, and necessarily so, for they were the work of no one brain, but were as composite a production as is the constitution of the united states. the material in them is drawn from the mouths of a whole people. far more than in other popular writings one feels that they are the genuine expression of the public opinion of a great class. probably their draftsman was sebastian lotzer, the tanner who for years past had preached apostolic communism. it is not impossible that the anabaptist balthasar hübmaier had a hand in them. their demands are moderate and would be considered matters of self-evident justice to-day. the first article is for the right of each community to choose its own pastor. the second protests against the minor tithes on vegetables paid to the clergy, though expressly admitting the legality of the tithes on grain. the third article demands freedom for the serfs, the fourth and fifth, ask for the right to hunt and to cut wood in the forests. the sixth, seventh and eighth articles { } protest against excessive forced labor, illegal payments and exorbitant rents. the ninth article denounces the new (roman) law, and requests the reëstablishment of the old (german) law. the tenth article voices the indignation of the poor at the enclosure by the rich of commons and other free land. the eleventh demands the abolition of the heriot, or inheritance-tax, by which the widow of a rustic was obliged to yield to her lord the best head of cattle or other valuable possession. the final article expresses the willingness of the insurgents to have all their demands submitted to the word of god. both here and in the preamble the entire assimilation of divine and human law is postulated, and the charge that the lutheran gospel caused sedition, is met. [sidenote: other manifestos] though the _twelve articles_ were adopted by more of the bands of peasants than was any other program, yet there were several other manifestos drawn up about the same time. thus, in the _fifty-nine articles_ of the stühlingen peasants the same demands are put forth with much more detail. the legal right to trial by due process of law is asserted, and vexatious payments due to a lord when his peasant marries a woman from another estate, are denounced. but here, too, and elsewhere, the fundamental demands were the same: freedom from serfdom, from oppressive taxation and forced labor, and for unrestricted rights of hunting and woodcutting in the forests. everywhere there is the same claim that the rights of the people are sanctioned by the law of god, and generally the peasants assume that they are acting in accordance with the new "gospel" of luther. the swabians expressly submitted their demands to the arbitration of a commission of four to consist of a representative of the emperor, frederic of saxony, luther and either melanchthon or bugenhagen. { } when the revolt reached the central part of germany it became at once more socialistic and more bloody. [sidenote: münzer] the baleful eloquence of thomas münzer was exerted at mühlhausen to nerve the people to strike down the godless with pitiless sword. already in september he preached: "on! on! on! this is the time when the wicked are as fearful as hounds. . . . regard not the cries of the godless. . . . on, while the fire is hot. let not your swords be cold from blood. smite bang, bang on the anvil of nimrod; cast his tower to the ground!" other leaders took up the message and called for the extirpation of the tyrants, including both the clergy and the lords. communism was demanded as in the apostolic age; property was denounced as wrong. regulation of prices was one measure put forward, and the committing of the government of the country to a university another. the propaganda of deeds followed close upon the propaganda of words. during the spring of in central germany forty-six cloisters and castles were burned to the ground, while violence and rapine reigned supreme with all the ferocity characteristic of class warfare. on easter sunday, april , one of the best-armed bands of peasants, under one of the most brutal leaders, jäcklein rohrbach, attacked weinsberg. the count and his small garrison of eighteen knights surrendered and were massacred by the insurgents, who visited mockery and insult upon the countess and her daughters. many of the cities joined the peasants, and for a short time it seemed as if the rebellion might be successful. [sidenote: suppression of the rising] but in fact the insurgents were poorly equipped, untrained, without coöperation or leadership. as soon as the troops which won the battle of pavia in italy were sent back to germany the whole movement collapsed. [sidenote: february , ] the swabian league inflicted decisive { } defeats upon the rebels at leipheim on april , and at wurzach ten days later. other blows followed in may. in the center of germany the saxon electorate lay supine. frederic the wise died in the midst of the tumult [sidenote: may , ] after expressing his opinion that it was god's will that the common man should rule, and that it would be wrong to resist the divine decree. his young neighbor, philip, landgrave of hesse, acted vigorously. after coming to terms with his own subjects by negotiations, he raised troops and met a band of insurgents at frankenhausen. he wished to treat with them also, but münzer's fanaticism, promising the deluded men supernatural aid, nerved them to reject all terms. in the very ancient german style they built a barricade of wagons, and calmly awaited the attack of the soldiers. [sidenote: may ] undisciplined and poorly armed, almost at the first shot they broke and fled in panic, more than half of them perishing on the field. münzer was captured, and, after having been forced by torture to sign a confession of his misdeeds, was executed. after this there was no strength left in the peasant cause. the lords, having gained the upper hand, put down the rising with great cruelty. the estimates of the numbers of peasants slain vary so widely as to make certainty impossible. perhaps a hundred thousand in all perished. the soldiers far outdid the rebels in savage reprisals. the laborers sank back into a more wretched state than before; oppression stalked with less rebuke than ever through the land. section . the formation or the protestant party [sidenote: defections from luther] in the sixteenth century politics were theological. the groups into which men divided had religious slogans and were called churches, but they were also political parties. the years following the diet of { } worms saw the crystallization of a new group, which was at first liberal and reforming and later, as it grew in stability, conservative. at worms almost all the liberal forces in germany had been behind luther, the intellectuals, the common people with their wish for social amelioration, and those to whom the religious issue primarily appealed. but this support offered by public opinion was vague; in the next years it became, both more definite and more limited. at the same time that city after city and state after state was openly revolting from the pope, until the reformers had won a large constituency in the imperial diets and a place of constitutional recognition, there was going on another process by which one after another certain elements at first inclined to support luther fell away from him. during these years he violently dissociated himself from the extreme radicals and thus lost the support of the proletariat. in the second place the growing definiteness and narrowness of his dogmatism and his failure to show hospitality to science and philosophy alienated a number of intellectuals. third, a great schism weakened the protestant church. but these losses were counterbalanced by two gains. the first was the increasing discipline and coherence of the new churches; the second was their gradual but rapid attainment of the support of the middle and governing classes in many german states. [sidenote: the radicals] luther's struggle with radicalism had begun within a year after his stand at worms. he had always been consistently opposed to mob violence, even when he might have profited by it. at worms he disapproved hutten's plans for drawing the sword against the romanists. when, from his "watchtower," he first spied the disorders at wittenberg, he wrote that notwithstanding the great provocation given to the common man by the clergy, yet tumult was the work of { } the devil. when he returned home he preached that the only weapon the christian ought to use was the word. "had i wished it," said he then, "i might have brought germany to civil war. yes, at worms i might have started a game that would not have been safe for the emperor, but it would have been a fool's game. so i did nothing, but only let the word act." driven from wittenberg, the zwickau prophets, assisted by thomas münzer, continued their agitation elsewhere. as long as their propaganda was peaceful luther was inclined to tolerate it. "let them teach what they like," said he, "be it gospel or lies." but when they began to preach a campaign of fire and sword, luther wrote, in july , to his elector begging him "to act vigorously against their storming and ranting, in order that god's kingdom may be advanced by word only, as becomes christians, and that all cause of sedition may be taken from the multitude [herr omnes, literally mr. everybody], more than enough inclined to it already." when the revolt at last broke out luther was looked up to and appealed to by the people as their champion. in april he composed an _exhortation to peace on the twelve articles of the swabian peasants_, [sidenote: exhortation to peace] in which he distributed the blame for the present conditions liberally, but impartially, on both sides, aristocrats and peasants. to the former he said that their tyranny, together with that of the clergy had brought this punishment on themselves, and that god intended to smite them. to the peasants he said that no tyranny was excuse for rebellion. of their articles he approved of two only, that demanding the right to choose their pastors and that denouncing the heriot or death-duty. their second demand, for repeal of some of the tithes, he characterized as robbery, and the third, for freedom of the serf, as unjustified because it made christian { } liberty a merely external thing, and because paul had said that the bondman should not seek to be free (i cor. vii, f). the other articles were referred to legal experts. hardly had this pamphlet come from the press before luther heard of the deeds of violence of rohrbach and his fellows. fearing that complete anarchy would result from the triumph of the insurgents, against whom no effective blow had yet been struck, he wrote a tract _against the thievish, murderous hordes of peasants_. [sidenote: the peasants denounced] in this he denounced them with the utmost violence of language, and urged the government to smite them without pity. everyone should avoid a peasant as he would the devil, and should join the forces to slay them like mad dogs. "if you die in battle against them," said he to the soldiers, "you could never have a more blessed end, for you die obedient to god's word in romans , and in the service of love to free your neighbor from the bands of hell and the devil." a little later he wrote: "it is better that all the peasants be killed than that the princes and magistrates perish, because the rustics took the sword without divine authority. the only possible consequence of their satanic wickedness would be the diabolic devastation of the kingdom of god." and again: "one cannot argue reasonably with a rebel, but one must answer him with the fist so that blood flows from his nose." melanchthon entirely agreed with his friend. "it is fairly written in ecclesiasticus xxxiii," said he, "that as the ass must have fodder, load, and whip, so must the servant have bread, work, and punishment. these outward, bodily servitudes are needful, but this institution [serfdom] is certainly pleasing to god." inevitably such an attitude alienated the lower classes. from this time, many of them looked not to { } the lutheran but to the more radical sects, called anabaptists, for help. the condition of the empire at this time was very similar to that of many countries today, where we find two large upper and middle-class parties, the conservative (catholic) and liberal (protestant) over against the radical or socialistic (anabaptist). [sidenote: the anabaptists] the most important thing about the extremists was not their habit of denying the validity of infant baptism and of rebaptizing their converts, from which they derived their name. what really determined their view-point and program was that they represented the poor, uneducated, disinherited classes. the party of extreme measures is always chiefly constituted from the proletariat because it is the very poor who most pressingly feel the need for change and because they have not usually the education to judge the feasibility of the plans, many of them quack nostrums, presented as panaceas for all their woes. a complete break with the past and with the existing order has no terrors for them, but only promise. a radical party almost always includes men of a wide variety of opinions. so the sixteenth century classed together as anabaptists men with not only divergent but with diametrically opposite views on the most vital questions. their only common bond was that they all alike rejected the authoritative, traditional and aristocratic organization of both of the larger churches and the pretensions of civil society. it is easy to see that they had no historical perspective, and that they tried to realize the ideals of primitive christianity, as they understood it, without reckoning the vast changes in culture and other conditions, and yet it is impossible not to have a deep sympathy with the men most of whose demands were just and who sealed their faith with perpetual martyrdom. { } [sidenote: spread of radicalism] notwithstanding the heavy blow to reform given in the crushing of the peasants' rising, radical doctrines continued to spread among the people. as the poor found their spiritual needs best supplied in the conventicle of dissent, official lutheranism became an established church, predominantly an aristocratic and middle-class party of vested interest and privilege. it is sometimes said that the origin and growth of the anabaptists was due to the german translation of the bible. this is not true and yet there is little doubt that the publication of the german version in and the years immediately following, stimulated the growth of many sects. the bible is such a big book, and capable of so many different interpretations, that it is not strange that a hundred different schemes of salvation should have been deduced from it by those who came to it with different prepossessions. while many of the anabaptists were perfect quietists, preaching the duty of non-resistance and the wickedness of bearing arms, even in self-defence, others found sanction for quite opposite views in the scripture, and proclaimed that the godless should be exterminated as the canaanites had been. in ethical matters some sects practised the severest code of morals, while others were distinguished by laxity. by some marriage was forbidden; others wanted all the marriage they could get and advocated polygamy. the religious meetings were similar to "revivals," frequently of the most hysterical sort. claiming that they were mystically united to god, or had direct revelations from him, they rejected the ceremonies and sacraments of historic christianity, and sometimes substituted for them practices of the most absurd, or most doubtful, character. when melchior rink preached, his followers howled like dogs, bellowed like cattle, neighed like horses, and brayed like asses--some of them very { } naturally, no doubt. in certain extreme cases the meetings ended in debauchery, while we know of men who committed murder in the belief that they were directed so to do by special revelation of god. thus at st. gall one brother cut another's throat, while one of the saints trampled his wife to death under the influence of the spirit. but it is unfair to judge the whole movement by these excesses. the new sectaries, of course, ran the gauntlet of persecution. in the emperor and diet at spires passed a mandate against them to this effect: "by the plenitude of our imperial power and wisdom we ordain, decree, oblige, declare, and will that all anabaptists, men and women who have come to the age of understanding, shall be executed and deprived of their natural life by fire, sword, and the like, according to opportunity and without previous inquisition of the spiritual judges." lutherans united with catholics in passing this edict, and showed no less alacrity in executing it. as early as the anabaptists were persecuted at zurich, where one of their earliest communities sprouted. some of the leaders were drowned, others were banished and so spread their tenets elsewhere. catholic princes exterminated them by fire and sword. in lutheran saxony no less than thirteen of the poor non-conformists were executed, and many more imprisoned for long terms, or banished. and yet the radical sects continued to grow. the dauntless zeal of melchior hofmann braved all for the propagation of their ideas. for a while he found a refuge at strassburg, but this city soon became too orthodox to hold him. he then turned to holland, where the seed sowed fell into fertile ground. two dutchmen, the baker john matthys of haarlem and the tailor john beuckelssen of leyden went to the episcopal city of münster in westphalia [sidenote: münster] near the dutch { } border, and rapidly converted the mass of the people to their own belief in the advent of the kingdom of god on earth. an insurrection expelled the bishop's government and installed a democracy in february, . after the death of matthys on april , a rising of the people against the dictatorial power of beucklessen was suppressed by this fanatic who thereupon crowned himself king under the title of john of leyden. communism of goods was introduced and also polygamy. the city was now besieged by its suzerain, the bishop of münster, and after horrible sufferings had been inflicted on the population, taken by storm on june , . the surviving leaders were put to death by torture. the defeat itself was not so disastrous to the anabaptist cause as were the acts of the leaders when in power. as the reformer bullinger put it: "god opened the eyes of the governments by the revolt at münster, and thereafter no one would trust even those anabaptists who claimed to be innocent." their lack of unity and organization told against them. nevertheless the sect smouldered on in the lower classes, constantly subject to the fires of martyrdom, until, toward the close of the century, it attained some cohesion and respectability. the later baptists, independents, and quakers all inherited some portion of its spiritual legacies. to the secular historian its chief interest is in the social teachings, which consistently advocated tolerance, and frequently various forms of anarchy and socialism. [sidenote: defection of the humanists] next to the defection of the laboring masses, the severest loss to the evangelical party in these years was that of a large number of intellectuals, who, having hailed luther as a deliverer from ecclesiastical bondage, came to see in him another pope, not less { } tyrannous than he of rome. reuchlin the hebrew scholar and mutian the philosopher had little sympathy with any dogmatic subtlety. zasius the jurist was repelled by the haste and rashness of luther. the so-called "godless painters" of nuremberg, george penz and the brothers hans and bartholomew beham, having rejected in large part christian doctrine, were naturally not inclined to join a new church, even when they deserted the old. but a considerable number of humanists, and those the greatest, after having welcomed the reformation in its first, most liberal and hopeful youth, deliberately turned their backs on it and cast in their lot with the roman communion. the reason was that, whereas the old faith mothered many of the abuses, superstitions, and dogmatisms abominated by the humanists, it had also, at this early stage in the schism, within its close a large body of ripe, cultivated, fairly tolerant opinion. the struggling innovators, on the other hand, though they purged away much obsolete and offensive matter, were forced, partly by their position, partly by the temper of their leaders, to a raw self-assertiveness, a bald concentration on the points at issue, incompatible with winsome wisdom, or with judicial fairness. how the humanists would have chosen had they seen the index and loyola, is problematical; but while there was still hope of reshaping rome to their liking they had little use for wittenberg. i admit that for some years i was very favorably inclined to luther's enterprise [wrote crotus rubeanus in ] [sidenote: rubeanus], but when i saw that nothing was left untorn and undefiled . . . i thought the devil might bring in great evil in the guise of something good, using scripture as his shield. so i decided to remain in the church in which i was baptized, reared and taught. even if some fault might be found in it, yet in time it { } might have been proved, sooner, at any rate, than in the new church which in a few years has been torn by so many sects. wilibald pirckheimer, the greek scholar and historian of nuremberg, hailed luther so warmly at first that he was put under the ban of the bull _exsurge domine_. by , however, he had come to believe him insolent, impudent, either insane or possessed by a devil. i do not deny [he wrote] that at the beginning all luther's acts did not seem to be vain, since no good man could be pleased with all those errors and impostures that had accumulated gradually in christianity. so, with others, i hoped that some remedy might be applied to such great evils, but i was cruelly deceived. for, before the former errors had been extirpated, far more intolerable ones crept in, compared to which the others seemed child's play. [sidenote: appeal to erasmus] to erasmus, the wise, the just, all men turned as to an arbiter of opinion. from the first, luther counted on his support, and not without reason, for the humanist spoke well of the theses and commentaries of the wittenberger. on march , , luther addressed a letter to him, as "our glory and hope," acknowledging his indebtedness and begging for support. erasmus answered in a friendly way, at the same time sending a message encouraging the elector frederic to defend his innocent subject. dreading nothing so much as a violent catastrophe, the humanist labored for the next two years to find a peaceful solution for the threatening problem. seeing that luther's two chief errors were that he "had attacked the crown of the pope and the bellies of the monks," erasmus pressed upon men in power the plan of allowing the points in dispute to be settled by an impartial tribunal, and of imposing silence on both parties. at the same time he begged luther to do nothing { } violent and urged that his enemies be not allowed to take extreme measures against him. but after the publication of the pamphlets of and of the bull condemning the heretic, this position became untenable. erasmus had so far compromised himself in the eyes of the inquisitors that he fled from louvain in the autumn of , and settled in basle. he was strongly urged by both parties to come out on one side or the other, and he was openly taunted by ulrich von hutten, a hot lutheran, for cowardice in not doing so. alienated by this and by the dogmatism and intolerance of luther's writings, erasmus finally defined his position in a _diatribe on free will_. [sidenote: ] as luther's theory of the bondage of the will was but the other side of his doctrine of justification by faith only--for where god's grace does all there is nothing left for human effort--erasmus attacked the very center of the evangelical dogmatic system. the question, a deep psychological and metaphysical one, was much in the air, valla having written on it a work published in , and pomponazzi having also composed a work on it in , which was, however, not published until much later. it is noticeable that erasmus selected this point rather than one of the practical reforms advocated at wittenberg, with which he was much in sympathy. luther replied in a volume on _the bondage of the will_ reasserting his position more strongly than ever. [sidenote: ] how theological, rather than philosophical, his opinion was may be seen from the fact that while he admitted that a man was free to choose which of two indifferent alternatives he should take, he denied that any of these choices could work salvation or real righteousness in god's eyes. he did not hesitate to say that god saved and damned souls irrespective of merit. erasmus answered again in a large work, the _hyperaspistes_ (_heavy-armed soldier_), which came { } out in two parts. [sidenote: - ] in this he offers a general critique of the lutheran movement. its leader, he says, is a dogmatist, who never recoils from extremes logically demanded by his premises, no matter how repugnant they may be to the heart of man. but for himself he is a humanist, finding truth in the reason as well as in the bible, and abhorring paradoxes. the controversy was not allowed to drop at this point. many a barbed shaft of wit-winged sarcasm was shot by the light-armed scholar against the ranks of the reformers. "where lutheranism reigns," he wrote pirckheimer, "sound learning perishes." "with disgust," he confessed to ber, "i see the cause of christianity approaching a condition that i should be very unwilling to have it reach . . . while we are quarreling over the booty the victory will slip through our fingers. it is the old story of private interests destroying the commonwealth." erasmus first expressed the opinion, often maintained since, that europe was experiencing a gradual revival both of christian piety and of sound learning, when luther's boisterous attack plunged the world into a tumult in which both were lost sight of. on march , , he wrote to maldonato: i brought it about that sound learning, which among the italians and especially among the romans savored of nothing but pure paganism, began nobly to celebrate christ, in whom we ought to boast as the sole author of both wisdom and happiness if we are true christians. . . . i always avoided the character of a dogmatist, except in certain _obiter dicta_ which seemed to me conducive to correct studies and against the preposterous judgments of men. in the same letter he tells how hard he had fought the obscurantists, and adds: "while we were waging a fairly equal battle against these monsters, behold { } luther suddenly arose and threw the apple of discord into the world." in short, erasmus left the reformers not because they were too liberal, but because they were too conservative, and because he disapproved of violent methods. his gentle temperament, not without a touch of timidity, made him abhor the tumult and trust to the voice of persuasion. in failing to secure the support of the humanists protestantism lost heavily, and especially abandoned its chance to become the party of progress. luther himself was not only disappointed in the disaffection of erasmus, but was sincerely rebelled by his rationalism. a man who could have the least doubt about a doctrine was to him "an arian, an atheist, and a skeptic." he went so far as to say that the great dutch scholar's primary object in publishing the greek new testament was to make readers doubtful about the text, and that the chief end of his _colloquies_ was to mock all piety. erasmus, whose services to letters were the most distinguished and whose ideal of christianity was the loveliest, has suffered far too much in being judged by his relation to the reformation. by a great catholic[ ] he has been called "the glory of the priesthood and the shame," by an eminent protestant scholar[ ] "a john the baptist and judas in one." [sidenote: sacramentarian schism] the battle with the humanists was synchronous with the beginnings of a fierce internecine strife that tore the young evangelical church into two parts. though the controversy between luther and his principal rival, ulrich zwingli, was really caused by a wide difference of thought on many subjects, it focused its rays, like a burning-glass, upon one point, the doctrine of the real presence of the body and blood of christ in the { } eucharist. the explanation of this mystery evolved in the middle ages and adopted by the lateran council of , was the theory, called "transubstantiation," that the substance of the bread turned into the substance of the body, and the substance of the wine into the substance of the blood, without the "accidents" of appearance and taste being altered. some of the later doctors of the church, durand and occam, opposed this theory, though they proposed a nearly allied one, called "consubstantiation," that the body and blood are present with the bread and wine. wyclif and others, among whom was the italian philosopher pico della mirandola, proposed the theory now held in most protestant churches that the bread and wine are mere symbols of the body and blood. at the dawn of the reformation the matter was brought into prominence by the dutch theologian hoen, from whom the symbolic interpretation [sidenote: symbolism] was adopted first by carlstadt and then by the swiss reformers zwingli and oecolampadius. luther himself wavered. he attacked the sacrifice of the mass, in which he saw a "good work" repugnant to faith, and a great practical abuse, as in the endowed masses for souls, but he finally decided on the question of the real presence that the words "this is my body" were "too strong for him" and meant just what they said. after a preliminary skirmish with carlstadt, resulting in the latter's banishment from saxony, there was a long and bitter war of pens between wittenberg and the swiss reformers. once the battle was joined it was sure to be acrimonious because of the self-consciousness of each side. luther always assumed that he had a monopoly of truth, and that those who proposed different views were infringing his copyright, so to speak. "zwingli, carlstadt and oecolampadius would never have known christ's gospel rightly," he { } opined, "had not luther written of it first." he soon compared them to absalom rebelling against his father david, and to judas betraying his master. zwingli on his side was almost equally sure that he had discovered the truth independently of luther, and, while expressing approbation of his work, refused to be called by his name. his invective was only a shade less virulent than was that of his opponent. the substance of the controversy was far from being the straight alignment between reason and tradition that it has sometimes been represented as. both sides assumed the inerrancy of scripture and appealed primarily to the same biblical arguments. luther had no difficulty in proving that the words "hoc est corpus meum" meant that the bread was the body, and he stated that this must be so even if contrary to our senses. zwingli had no difficulty in proving that the thing itself was impossible, and therefore inferred that the biblical words must be explained away as a figure of speech. in a long and learned controversy neither side convinced the other, but each became so exasperated as to believe the other possessed of the devil. in the spring of lutherans joined catholics at the diet of spires in refusing toleration to the zwinglians. the division of protestants of course weakened them. their leading statesman, philip, landgrave of hesse, seeing this, did his best to reconcile the leaders. for several years he tried to get them to hold a conference, but in vain. finally, he succeeded in bringing together at his castle at marburg on the lahn, luther, melanchthon, zwingli, oecolampadius, and a large number of other divines. [sidenote: marburg colloquy october - , ] the discussion here only served to bring out more strongly the irreconcilability of the two "spirits." shortly afterwards, when the question of a political alliance came up, the saxon theologians drafted a memorial stating that { } they would rather make an agreement with the heathen than with the "sacramentarians." [sidenote: ] the same attitude was preserved at the diet of augsburg, where the lutherans were careful to avoid all appearance of friendship with the zwinglians lest they should compromise their standing with the catholics. zwingli and his friends were hardly less intransigeant. [sidenote: october , ] when zwingli died in battle with the catholic cantons and when oecolampadius succumbed to a fever a few weeks later, luther loudly proclaimed that was a judgment of god and a triumph for his own party. though there was no hope of reconciling the swiss, the south german zwinglians, headed by the strassburg reformers bucer and capito, hastened to come to an understanding with wittenberg, without which their position would have been extremely perilous. bucer claimed to represent a middle doctrine, such as was later asserted by calvin. as no middle ground is possible, the doctrine is unintelligible, being, in fact, nothing but the statement, in strong terms, of two mutually exclusive propositions. after much humiliation the divines succeeded, however, in satisfying luther, with whom they signed the wittenberg concord on may , . the swiss still remained without the pale, and luther's hatred of them grew with the years. shortly before his death he wrote that he would testify before the judgment-seat of god his loathing for the sacramentarians. he became more and more conservative, bringing back to the sacrament some of the medieval superstitions he had once expelled. he began again to call it an offering and a sacrifice and again had it elevated in church for the adoration of the faithful. he wavered on this point, because, as he said, he doubted whether it were more his duty to "spite" the papists or the sacramentarians. he finally decided on the latter, "and if necessary," { } continued he, "i will have the host elevated three, seven, or ten times, for i will not let the devil teach me anything in my church." [sidenote: growth of lutheranism in middle and upper classes] notwithstanding the bitter controversies just related lutheranism flourished mightily in the body of the people who were neither peasants nor intellectuals nor swiss. the appeal was to the upper and middle classes, sufficiently educated to discard some of the medievalism of the roman church and impelled also by nationalism and economic self-interest to turn from the tyranny of the pope. city after city and state after state enlisted under the banner of luther. he continued to appeal to them through the press. as a popular pamphleteer he must be reckoned among the very ablest. his faults, coarseness and unbridled violence of language, did not alienate most of his contemporaries. even his latin works, too harshly described by hallam as "bellowing in bad latin," were well adapted to the spirit of the age. but nothing like his german writings had ever been seen before. in lucidity and copiousness of language, in directness and vigor, in satire and argument and invective, in humor and aptness of illustration and allusion, the numerous tracts, political and theological, which poured from his pen, surpassed all that had hitherto been written and went straight to the hearts of his countrymen. and he won his battle almost alone, for melanchthon, though learned and elegant, had no popular gifts, and none of his other lieutenants could boast even second-rate ability. [sidenote: german bible, - ] among his many publications a few only can be singled out for special mention. the continuation of the german bible undoubtedly helped his cause greatly. in many things he could appeal to it against the roman tradition, and the very fact that he claimed to do so while his opponents by their attitude seemed to { } shrink from this test, established the protestant claim to be evangelical, in the eyes of the people. next came his hymns, many popular, some good and one really great. [sidenote: hymns, ] _ein' feste burg_ has been well called by heine the marseillaise of the reformation. the longer and shorter catechisms [sidenote: catechisms, ] educated the common people in the evangelical doctrine so well that the catholics were forced to imitate their enemy, though tardily, by composing, for the first time, catechisms of their own. having overthrown much of the doctrine and discipline of the old church luther addressed himself with admirable vigor and great success to the task of building up a substitute for it. in this the combination of the conservative and at the same time thoroughly popular spirit of the movement manifested itself. in divine service the vernacular was substituted for latin. new emphasis was placed upon preaching, bible-reading and hymn-singing. mass was no longer incomprehensible, but was an act of worship in which all could intelligently participate; bread and wine were both given to the laity, and those words of the canon implying transubstantiation and sacrifice were omitted. marriage was relegated from the rank of a sacrament to that of a civil contract. baptism was kept in the old form, even to the detail of exorcizing the evil spirit. auricular confession was permitted but not insisted upon. [sidenote: church government] the problems of church government and organization were pressing. two alternatives, were theoretically possible, congregationalism or state churches. after some hesitation, luther was convinced by the extravagances of münzer and his ilk that the latter was the only practicable course. the governments of the various german states and cities were now given supreme power in ecclesiastical matters. they took over the property belonging to the old church and { } administered it generally for religious or educational or charitable purposes. a system of church-visitation was started, by which the central authority passed upon the competence of each minister. powers of appointment and removal were vested in the government. the title and office of bishop were changed in most cases to that of "superintendent," though in some german sees and generally in sweden the name bishop was retained. [sidenote: lutheran accessions] how genuinely popular was the lutheran movement may be seen in the fact that the free cities, nuremberg, augsburg, strassburg, ulm, lübeck, hamburg, and many others were the first to revolt from rome. in other states the government led the way. electoral saxony evolved slowly into complete protestantism. though the elector frederic sympathized with almost everything advanced by his great subject, he was too cautious to interfere with vested interests of ecclesiastical property and endowments. on his death [sidenote: may , ] his brother john succeeded to the title, and came out openly for all the reforms advocated at wittenberg. the neighboring state of hesse was won about , [sidenote: - ] though the official ordinance promulgating the evangelical doctrine was not issued until . a very important acquisition was prussia. [sidenote: ] hitherto it had been governed by the teutonic order, a military society like the knights templars. albert of brandenburg became grand master in , [sidenote: albert of brandenburg, - ] and fourteen years later saw the opportunity of aggrandizing his personal power by renouncing his spiritual ties. he accordingly declared the teutonic order abolished and himself temporal duke of prussia, shortly afterwards marrying a daughter of the king of denmark. he swore allegiance to the king of poland. the growth of lutheranism unmolested by the imperial government was made possible by the { } absorption of the emperor's energies in his rivalry with france and turkey and by the decentralization of the empire. [sidenote: leagues] leagues between groups of german states had been quite common in the past, and a new stimulus to their formation was given by the common religious interest. the first league of this sort was that of ratisbon, [sidenote: ] between bavaria and other south german principalities; its purpose was to carry out the edict of worms. this was followed by a similar league in north germany between catholic states, known as the league of dessau, [sidenote: ] and a protestant confederation known as the league of torgau. [sidenote: the diet of spires, ] the diet held at spires in the summer of witnessed the strength of the new party, for in it the two sides treated on equal terms. many reforms were proposed, and some carried through against the obstruction by ferdinand, the emperor's brother and lieutenant. the great question was the enforcement of the edict of worms, and on this the diet passed an act, known as a recess, providing that each state should act in matters of faith as it could answer to god and the emperor. in effect this allowed the government of every german state to choose between the two confessions, thus anticipating the principle of the religious peace of augsburg of . the relations of the two parties were so delicate that it seemed as if a general religious war were imminent. in , this was almost precipitated by a certain otto von pack, who assured the landgrave of hesse that he had found a treaty between the catholic princes for the extirpation of the lutherans and for the expropriation of their champions, the elector of saxony and philip of hesse himself. this was false, but the landgrave armed and attacked the bishops of würzburg and bamberg, named by pack as parties to the treaty, and he forced them to pay an indemnity. { } [sidenote: recess of spires] the diet which met at spires early in endeavored to deal as drastically as possible with the schism. the recess passed by the catholic majority on april was most unfavorable to the reformers, repealing the recess of the last diet in their favor. catholic states were commanded to execute the persecuting edict of worms, although lutheran states were forbidden to abolish the office of the (catholic) mass, and also to allow any further innovations in their own doctrines or practices until the calling of a general council. the princes were forbidden to harbor the subjects of another state. the evangelical members of the diet, much aggrieved at this blow to their faith, published a protest [sidenote: protest, april ] taking the ground that the recess of had been in the nature of a treaty and could not be abrogated without the consent of both parties to it. as the government of germany was a federal one, this was a question of "states' rights," such as came up in our own civil war, but in the german case it was even harder to decide because there was no written constitution defining the powers of the national government and the states. it might naturally be assumed that the diet had the power to repeal its own acts, but the evangelical estates made a further point in their appeal to the emperor, [sidenote: april ] by alleging that the recess of had been passed unanimously and could only be repealed by a unanimous vote. the protest and the appeal were signed by the elector of saxony, the landgrave of hesse, a few smaller states, and fourteen free cities. from the protest they became immediately known as "the protesting estates" and subsequently the name protestant was given to all those who left the roman communion. [ ] alexander pope. [ ] walther köhler. { } section . the growth of protestantism until the death of luther certain states having announced that they would not be bound by the will of the majority, the question naturally came up as to how far they would defend this position by arms. [sidenote: march , ] luther's advice asked and given to the effect that all rebellion or forcible resistance to the constituted authorities was wrong. passive resistance, the mere refusal to obey the command to persecute or to act, otherwise contrary to god's law, he thought was right but he discountenanced any other measures, even those taken in self-defence. all germans, said he, were the emperor's subjects, and the princes should not shield luther from him, but leave their lands open to his officers to do what they pleased. this position luther abandoned a year later, when the jurists pointed out to him that the authority of the emperor was not despotic but was limited by law. the protest and appeal of at last aroused charles, slow as he was, to the great dangers to himself that lurked in the protestant schism. having repulsed the turk and having made peace with france and the pope he was at last in a position to address himself seriously to the religious problem. fully intending to settle the trouble once for all, he came to germany and opened a diet at augsburg [sidenote: june , ] to which were invited not only the representatives of the various states but a number of leading theologians, both catholic and lutheran, all except luther himself, an outlaw by the edict of worms. the first action taken was to ask the lutherans to state their position and this was done in the famous augsburg confession, [sidenote: june ] read before the diet by the saxon chancellor brück. it had been drawn up by { } melanchthon in language as near as possible to that of the old church. indeed it undertook to prove that there was in the lutheran doctrine "nothing repugnant to scripture or to the catholic church or to the roman church." even in the form of the confession published this catholicizing tendency is marked, but in the original, now lost, it was probably stronger. the reason of this was not, as generally stated, melanchthon's "gentleness" and desire to conciliate all parties, for he showed himself more truculent to the zwinglians and anabaptists than did luther. it was due to the fact that melanchthon [sidenote: melanchthon] was at heart half a catholic, so much so, indeed, that contarini and others thought it quite possible that he might come over to them. in the present instance he made his doctrine conform to the roman tenets to such an extent that (in the lost original, as we may judge by the confutation) even transubstantiation was in a manner accepted. the first part of the confession is a creed: the second part takes up certain abuses, or reforms, namely: the demand of the cup for the laity, the marriage of priests, the mass as an _opus operatum_ or as celebrated privately, fasting and traditions, monastic vows and the power of the pope. but the concessions did not satisfy the catholics. a refutation was prepared by eck and others, and read before the diet on august . negotiations continued and still further concessions were wrung from melanchthon, concessions of so dangerous a nature that his fellow-protestants denounced him as an enemy of the faith and appealed to luther against him. melanchthon had agreed to call the mass a sacrifice, if the word were qualified by the term "commemorative," and also promised that the bishops should be restored to their ancient jurisdictions, a measure justified by him as a blow at turbulent sectaries but one also most { } perilous to lutherans. on the other hand, eck made some concessions, mostly verbal, about the doctrine of justification and other points. that with this mutually conciliatory spirit an agreement failed to materialize only proved how irreconcilable were the aims of the two parties. [sidenote: september ] the diet voted that the confession had been refuted and that the protestants were bound to recant. the emperor promised to use his influence with the pope to call a general council to decide doubtful points, but if the lutherans did not return to the papal church by april , , they were threatened with coercion. [sidenote: league of schmalkalden] to meet this perilous situation a closer alliance was formed by the protestant states at schmalkalden in february . this league constantly grew by the admission of new members, but some attempts to unite with the swiss proved abortive. on january , , ferdinand was elected king of the romans--the title taken by the heir to the empire--by six of the electors against the vote of saxony. three months later when the time granted the lutherans expired, the catholics were unable to do anything, and negotiations continued. [sidenote: july , ] these resulted in the peace of nuremberg, a truce until a general council should be called. it was an important victory for the lutherans, who were thus given time in which to grow. the seething unrest which found expression in the rebellion of the knights, of the peasants and of the anabaptists at münster, has been described. one more liberal movement, which also failed, must be mentioned at this time. it was as little connected with religion as anything in that theological age could be. [sidenote: lübeck, - ] the city of lübeck, under its burgomaster george wullenwever, tried to free itself from the influence of denmark and at the same time to get a more popular { } government. in it was conquered by christian iii of denmark, and the old aristocratic constitution restored. the time was not ripe for the people to assert its rights in north germany. [sidenote: may ] the growth of protestantism was at times assisted by force of arms. thus, philip of hesse restored the now protestant duke ulrich of wurttemberg, who had been expelled for his tyranny by the swabian league fifteen years before. this triumph was the more marked because the expropriated ruler was ferdinand, king of the romans. if in such cases it was the government which took the lead, in others the government undoubtedly compelled the people to continue catholic even when there was a strongly protestant public opinion. such was the case in albertine saxony,[ ] whose ruler, duke george, though an estimable man in many ways, was regarded by luther as the instrument of satan because he persecuted his protestant subjects. when he died, his brother, [sidenote: april, ] the protestant henry the pious, succeeded and introduced the reform amid general acclamation. two years later this duke was followed by his son, the versatile but treacherous maurice. in the year a still greater acquisition came to the schmalkaldic league in the conversion of brandenburg and its elector joachim ii. [sidenote: philip of hesse, - ] shortly afterwards the world was scandalized by the bigamy of philip of hesse. this prince was utterly spoiled by his accession to the governing power at the age of fifteen. though he lived in flagrant immorality, his religion, which, soon after he met luther at worms, became the evangelical, was real enough to make his sins a burden to conscience. much attracted { } by the teachings of some of the anabaptists and carlstadt that polygamy was lawful, and by luther's assertion in the _babylonian captivity_ that it was preferable to divorce, [sidenote: ] he begged to be allowed to take more wives, but was at first refused. his conscience was quickened by an attack of the syphilis in , and at that time he asked permission to take a second wife and received it on december , from luther, melanchthon, and bucer. his secret marriage to margaret von der saal [sidenote: march , ] took place in the presence of melanchthon, bucer, and other divines. luther advised him to keep the matter secret and if necessary even to "tell a good strong lie for the sake and good of the christian church." of course he was unable to conceal his act, and his conduct, and that of his spiritual advisers, became a just reproach to the cause. as no material advantages were lost by it, philip might have reversed the epigram of francis i and have said that "nothing was lost but honor." neither germany nor hesse nor the protestant church suffered directly by his act. [sidenote: ] indeed it lead indirectly to another territorial gain. philip's enemy duke henry of brunswick, though equally immoral, attacked him in a pamphlet. luther answered this in a tract of the utmost violence, called _jack sausage_. henry's rejoinder was followed by war between him and the schmalkaldic princes, in which he was expelled from his dominions and the reformation introduced. [sidenote: ] further gains followed rapidly. the catholic bishop of naumburg was expelled by john frederic of saxony, and a lutheran bishop instituted instead. about the same time the great spiritual prince, hermann von wied, archbishop elector of cologne, became a protestant, and invited melanchthon and bucer to reform his territories. one of the last gains, before the schmalkaldic war, was the rhenish palatinate, under { } its elector frederic iii. [sidenote: ] his troops fought then on the protestant side, though later he turned against that church. the opportunity of the lutherans was due to the engagements of the emperor with other enemies. in charles undertook a successful expedition against tunis. the war with france simmered on until the truce of nice, intended to be for ten years, signed between the two powers in . in war broke out again, and fortune again favored charles. he invaded france almost to the gates of paris, but did not press his advantage and on september signed the peace of crépy giving up all his conquests. unable to turn his arms against the heretics, charles continued to negotiate with them. the pressure he brought to bear upon the pope finally resulted in the summoning by paul iii of a council to meet at mantua the following year. [sidenote: june , ] the protestants were invited to send delegates to this council, and the princes of that faith held a congress at schmalkalden to decide on their course. [sidenote: february ] hitherto the lutherans had called themselves a part of the roman catholic church and had always appealed to a future oecumenical or national synod. they now found this position untenable, and returned the papal citation unopened. instead, demands for reform, known as the schmalkaldic articles, were drawn up by luther. the four principal demands were ( ) recognition of the doctrine of justification by faith only, ( ) abolition of the mass as a good work or _opus operatum_, ( ) alienation of the foundations for private masses, ( ) removal of the pretentions of the pope to headship of the universal church. as a matter of fact the council was postponed. [sidenote: april , ] failing to reach a permanent solution by this method, charles was again forced to negotiate. the { } treaty of frankfort agreed to a truce varying in length from six to fifteen months according to circumstances. this was followed by a series of religious conferences with the purpose of finding some means of reconciling the two confessions. [sidenote: religious colloquies] among the first of these were the meetings at worms and hagenau. campeggio and eck were the catholic leaders, melanchthon the spokesman for the lutherans. [sidenote: - ] each side had eleven members on the commission, but their joint efforts were wrecked on the plan for limiting the papal power and on the doctrine of original sin. when the diet of ratisbon was opened in the spring of a further conference was held at which the two parties came closer to each other than they had done since augsburg. the book of ratisbon was drawn up, emphasizing the points of agreement and slurring over the differences. contarini made wide concessions, later condemned by the catholics, on the doctrine of justification. discussion of the nature of the church, the power of the pope, the invocation of saints, the mass, and sacerdotal celibacy seemed likely to result in some _modus vivendi_. what finally shattered the hopes of union was the discussion of transubstantiation and the adoration of the host. as contarini had found in the statements of the augsburg confession no insuperable obstacle to an understanding he was astonished at the stress laid on them by the protestants now. [sidenote: ] it is not remarkable that with such results the diet of spires should have avoided the religious question and have devoted itself to more secular matters, among them the grant to the emperor of soldiers to fight the turk. of this diet bucer wrote "the estates act under the wrath of god. religion is relegated to an agreement between cities. . . . the cause of our evils is that few seek the lord earnestly, but { } most fight against him, both among those who have rejected, and of those who still bear, the papal yoke." at the diet of spires two years later the emperor promised the protestants, in return for help against france, recognition until a german national council should be called. for this concession he was sharply rebuked by the pope. [sidenote: ] the diet of worms contented itself with expressing its general hope for a "christian reformation." [sidenote: ] during his later years luther's polemic never flagged. his last book, _against the papacy of rome, founded by the devil_, surpassed cicero and the humanists and all that had ever been known in the virulence of its invective against "the most hellish father, st. paul, or paula iii" and his "hellish roman church." "one would like to curse them," he wrote, "so that thunder and lightning would strike them, hell fire burn them, the plague, syphilis, epilepsy, scurvy, leprosy, carbuncles, and all diseases attack them"--and so on for page after page. of course such lack of restraint largely defeated its own ends. the swiss reformer bullinger called it "amazingly violent," and a book than which he "had never read anything more savage or imprudent." our judgment of it must be tempered by the consideration that luther suffered in his last years from a nervous malady and from other painful diseases, due partly to overwork and lack of exercise, partly to the quantities of alcohol he imbibed, though he never became intoxicated. nevertheless, the last twenty years of his life were his happiest ones. his wife, catherine von bora, an ex-nun, and his children, brought him much happiness. though the wedding gave his enemies plenty of openings for reviling him as an apostate, [sidenote: june , ] and though it drew from erasmus the scoffing jest that what had begun as a tragedy ended as a comedy, it { } crowned his career, symbolizing the return from medieval asceticism to modern joy in living. dwelling in the fine old friary, entertaining with lavish prodigality many poor relatives, famous strangers, and students, notwithstanding unremitting toil and not a little bodily suffering, he expanded in his whole nature, mellowing in the warmth of a happy fireside climate. his daily routine is known to us intimately through the adoring assiduity of his disciples, who noted down whole volumes of his _table talk_. [sidenote: death and character of luther] on february , , he died. measured by the work that he accomplished and by the impression that his personality made both on contemporaries and on posterity, there are few men like him in history. dogmatic, superstitious, intolerant, overbearing, and violent as he was, he yet had that inscrutable prerogative of genius of transforming what he touched into new values. his contemporaries bore his invective because of his earnestness; they bowed to "the almost disgraceful servitude" which, says melanchthon, he imposed upon his followers, because they knew that he was leading them to victory in a great and worthy cause. even so, now, many men overlook his narrowness and bigotry because of his genius and bravery. his grandest quality was sincerity. priest and public man as he was, there was not a line of hypocrisy or cant in his whole being. a sham was to him intolerable, the abomination of desolation standing where it ought not. reckless of consequences, of danger, of his popularity, and of his life, he blurted out the whole truth, as he saw it, "despite all cardinals, popes, kings and emperors, together with all devils and hell." whether his ideal is ours or not, his courage in daring and his strength to labor for it must command our respect. next to his earnestness he owed his success to a { } wonderful gift of language that made him the tongue, as well as the spear-point, of his people. [sidenote: his eloquence] in love of nature, in wonder, in the power to voice some secret truth in a phrase or a metaphor, he was a poet. he looked out on the stars and considered the "good master-workman" that made them, on the violets "for which neither the grand turk nor the emperor could pay," on the yearly growth of corn and wine, "as great a miracle as the manna in the wilderness," on the "pious, honorable birds" alert to escape the fowler's net, or holding a diet "in a hall roofed with the vault of heaven, carpeted with the grass, and with walls as far as the ends of the earth." or he wrote to his son a charming fairy-tale of a pleasant garden where good children eat apples and pears and cherries and plums, and where they ride on pretty ponies with golden reins and silver saddles and dance all day and play with whistles and fifes and little cross-bows. luther's character combined traits not usually found in the same nature. he was both a dreamy mystic and a practical man of affairs; he saw visions and he knew how to make them realities; he was a god-intoxicated prophet and a cool calculator and hard worker for results. his faith was as simple and passionate as his dogmatic distinctions were often sophistical and arid. he could attack his foes with berserker fury, and he could be as gentle with a child as only a woman can. his hymns soar to heaven and his coarse jests trail in the mire. he was touched with profound melancholy and yet he had a wholesome, ready laugh. his words are now brutal invectives and again blossom with the most exquisite flowers of the soul--poetry, music, idyllic humor, tenderness. he was subtle and simple; superstitious and wise; limited in his cultural sympathies, but very great in what he achieved. [ ] saxony had been divided in into two parts, the electorate, including wittenberg, weimar and eisenach, and the duchy, including leipzig and dresden. the former was called after its first ruler ernestine, the latter albertine. { } section . the religious war and the religious peace [sidenote: the schmalkaldic war, - ] hardly had luther been laid to rest when the first general religious war broke out in germany. there had been a few small wars of this character before, such as those of hesse against bamberg and wurzburg, and against württemberg, and against brunswick. but the conflicts had been successfully "localized." now at last was to come a general battle, as a foretaste of the thirty years war of the next century. it has sometimes been doubted whether the schmalkaldic war was a religious conflict at all. the emperor asserted that his sole object was to reduce rebellious subjects to obedience. several protestant princes were his allies, and the territories he conquered were not, for the most part, forced to give up their faith. nevertheless, it is certain that the fundamental cause of the strain was the difference of creed. a parallel may be found in our own civil war, in which lincoln truly claimed that he was fighting only to maintain the union, and yet it is certain that slavery furnished the underlying cause of the appeal to arms. it has recently been shown that the emperor planned the attack on his protestant subjects as far back, at least, as . all the negotiations subsequent to that time were a mere blind in disguise his preparations. for he labored indefatigably to bring about a condition in which it would be safe for him to embark on the perilous enterprise. though he was a dull man he had the two qualities of caution and persistence that stood him in better stead than the more showy talents of other statesmen. if, with his huge resources, he never did anything brilliant, still less did he ever take a gambler's chance of failing. { } the opportune moment came at last in the spring of . two years before, he had beaten france with the help of the protestants, and had imposed upon her as one condition of peace that she should make no allies within the empire. in november of the same year he made an alliance with paul iii, receiving , ducats in support of his effort to extirpate the heresy. other considerations impelled him to attack at once. the secession of cologne and the palatinate from the catholic communion gave the protestants a majority in the electoral college. still more decisive was it that charles was able at this time by playing upon the jealousies and ambitions of the states, to secure important allies within the empire, including some of the protestant faith. first, catholic bavaria forgot her hatred of austria far enough to make common cause against the heretics. then, two great protestant princes, maurice of albertine saxony and john von küstrin--a brother of joachim ii, elector of brandenburg--abandoned their coreligionists and bartered support to the emperor in return for promises of aggrandizement. [sidenote: january ] a final religious conference held at ratisbon demonstrated more clearly than ever the hopelessness of conciliation. whereas a semi-lutheran doctrine of justification was adopted, the protestants prepared two long memoirs rejecting the authority of the council recently convened at trent. and then, in the summer, war broke out. at this moment the forces of the schmalkaldic league were superior to those of its enemies. but for poor leadership and lack of unity in command they would probably have won. towards the last of august and early in september the protestant troops bombarded the imperial army at ingolstadt, but failed to follow this up by a decisive { } attack, as was urged by general schärtlin of augsburg. lack of equipment was partly responsible for this failure. when the emperor advanced, the elector of saxony and the landgrave of hesse retired each to his own land. another futile attempt of the league was a raid on the tyrol, possibly influenced by the desire to strike at the council of trent, certainly by no sound military policy. the effect of these indecisive counsels was that charles had little trouble in reducing the south german rebels, augsburg, ulm, nuremberg, and württemberg. the elector palatine hastened to come to terms by temporarily abandoning his religion. [sidenote: february, ] a counter-reformation was also effected in cologne. augsburg bought the emperor's pardon by material concessions. [sidenote: october ] in the meantime duke maurice of albertine saxony, having made a bargain with the emperor, attacked his second cousin the elector. though maurice was not obliged to abjure his faith, his act was naturally regarded as one of signal treachery and he was henceforth known by the nickname "judas." maurice conquered most of his cousin's lands, except the forts of wittenberg and gotha. charles's spanish army under alva now turned northward, forced a passage of the elbe and routed the troops of john frederic at the battle of mülberg, near torgau, on april , . john frederic was captured wounded, and kept in durance several years. wittenberg capitulated on may , and just a month later philip of hesse surrendered at halle. he also was kept a prisoner for some years. peace was made by the mediation of brandenburg. the electoral vote of saxony was given to maurice, and with it the best part of john frederic's lands, including wittenberg. no change of religion was required. the net result of the war was to { } increase the imperial power, but to put a very slight check upon the expansion of protestantism. and yet it was for precisely this end that charles chiefly valued his authority. immediately, acting independently of the pope, he made another effort to restore the confessional unity of germany. the diet of augsburg [sidenote: - ] accepted under pressure from him a decree called the interim because it was to be valid only until the final decisions of a general council. though intended to apply only to protestant states--the catholics had, instead, a _formula reformationis_--the interim [sidenote: the interim, june , ], drawn up by romanist divines, was naturally catholic in tenor. the episcopal constitution was restored, along with the canon of the mass, the doctrine of the seven sacraments, and the worship of saints. on some doctrinal points vagueness was studied. the only concessions made to the reformation were the _pro tempore_ recognition of the marriage of the clergy and the giving of the cup to the laity. various other details of practical reform were demanded. the interim was intensely unpopular with both parties. the pope objected to it and german catholics, especially in bavaria, strongly opposed it. the south german protestant states accepted it only under pressure. maurice of saxony adopted it in a modified form, known as the leipzig interim, in december . the assistance rendered him by melanchthon caused a fierce attack on the theologian by his fellow-lutherans. in enforcing the interim maurice found his own profit, for when magdeburg won the nickname of "our lord god's pulpit" by refusing to accept it, maurice was entrusted with the execution of the imperial ban, and captured the city on november , . germany now fell into a confused condition, every state for itself. the emperor found his own { } difficulties in trying to make his son philip successor to his brother ferdinand. his two former protestant allies, maurice and john von küstrin, made an alliance with france and with other north german princes and forced the emperor to conclude the convention of passau. [sidenote: ] this guaranteed afresh the religious freedom of the lutherans until the next diet and forced the liberation of john frederic and philip of hesse. charles did not loyally accept the conditions of this agreement, but induced albert, margrave of brandenburg-culmbach, to attack the confederate princes in the rear. after albert had laid waste a portion of north germany he was defeated by maurice at the battle of sievershausen. [sidenote: july , ] mortally wounded, the brilliant but utterly unscrupulous victor died, at the age of thirty-two, soon after the battle. as the conflict had by this time resolved itself into a duel between him and charles, the emperor was now at last able to put through, at the diet of augsburg, a settlement of the religious question. [sidenote: religious peace of augsburg, september , ] the principles of the religious peace were as follows: ( ) a truce between states recognizing the augsburg confession and catholic states until union was possible. all other confessions were to be barred--a provision aimed chiefly at calvinists. ( ) the princes and governments of the free cities were to be allowed to choose between the roman and the lutheran faith, but their subjects must either conform to this faith--on the maxim famous as _cujus regio ejus religio_--or emigrate. in imperial free cities, however, it was specially provided that catholic minorities be tolerated. ( ) the "ecclesiastical reservation," or principle that when a catholic spiritual prince became protestant he should be deposed and a successor appointed { } so that his territory might remain under the church. in respect to this ferdinand privately promised to secure toleration for protestant subjects in the land of such a prince. all claims of spiritual jurisdiction by catholic prelates in lutheran lands were to cease. all estates of the church confiscated prior to were to remain in the hands of the spoliators, all seized since that date to be restored. the peace of augsburg, like the missouri compromise, only postponed civil war and the radical solution of a pressing problem. but as we cannot rightly censure the statesmen of for not insisting on emancipation, for which public opinion was not yet prepared, so it would be unhistorical and unreasonable to blame the diet of augsburg for not granting the complete toleration which we now see was bound to come and was ideally the right thing. mankind is educated slowly and by many hard experiences. europe had lain so long under the domination of an authoritative ecclesiastical civilization that the possibility of complete toleration hardly occurred to any but a few eccentrics. and we must not minimize what the peace of augsburg actually accomplished. it is true that choice of religion was legally limited to two alternatives, but this was more than had been allowed before. [sidenote: actual results] it is true that freedom of even this choice was complete only for the rulers of the territories or free cities; private citizens might exercise the same choice only on leaving their homes. the hardship of this was somewhat lessened by the consideration that in any case the nonconformist would not have to go far before finding a german community holding the catholic or lutheran opinions he preferred. finally, it must be remembered that, if the peace of augsburg aligned the whole nation into two mutually hostile camps, it at least kept them from war for more than { } half a century. nor was this a mere accident, for the strain was at times severe. when the imperial knight, grumbach, broke the peace by sacking the city of würzburg, [sidenote: - ] he was put under the ban, captured and executed. his protector, duke john frederic of saxony, was also captured and kept in confinement in austria until his death. notwithstanding such an exhibition of centralized power, it is probable that the peace of augsburg increased rather than diminished the authority of the territorial states at the expense of the imperial government. charles v, worn out by his long and unsuccessful struggle with heresy, after giving the netherlands to his son philip in , abdicated the crown of the empire to his brother ferdinand in . [sidenote: ferdinand, - ] he died two years later in a monastery, a disappointed man, having expressed the wish that he had burned luther at worms. the energies of ferdinand were largely taken up with the turkish war. his son, maximilian ii, [sidenote: maximilian ii, - ] was favorably inclined to protestantism. [sidenote: catholic reaction] before maximilian's death, however, a reaction in favor of catholicism had already set in. the last important gains to the lutheran cause in germany came in the years immediately following the peace of augsburg. nothing is more remarkable than the fact that practically all the conquests of protestantism in europe were made within the first half century of its existence. after that for a few years it lost, and since then has remained, geographically speaking, stationary in europe. it is impossible to get accurate statistics of the gains and losses of either confession. the estimate of the venetian ambassador that only one-tenth of the german empire was catholic in is certainly wrong. in , at the height of the protestant tide, probably per cent. of germans--including austrians--were protestant. in the germans of the { } german empire and of austria were divided thus: protestants , , ; catholics , , . the protestants were about per cent., and this proportion was probably about that of the year . [sidenote: lutheran schisms] historically, the final stemming of the protestant flood was due to the revival of energy in the catholic church and to the internal weakness and schism of the protestants. even within the lutheran communion fierce conflicts broke out. luther's lieutenants fought for his spiritual heritage as the generals of alexander fought for his empire. the center of these storms was melanchthon until death freed him from "the rage of the theologians." [sidenote: april , ] always half catholic, half erasmian at heart, by his endorsement of the interim, and by his severe criticisms of his former friends luther and john frederic, he brought on himself the bitter enmity of those calling themselves "gnesio-lutherans," or "genuine lutherans." melanchthon abolished congregational hymn-singing, and published his true views, hitherto dissembled, on predestination and the sacrament. he was attacked by flacius the historian, and by many others. the dispute was taken up by still others and went to such lengths that for a minor heresy a pastor, funck, was executed by his fellow-lutherans in prussia, in . "philippism" as it was called, at first grew, but finally collapsed when the formula of concord was drawn up in and signed by over clergy. this document is to the lutheran church what the decrees of trent were to the catholics. the "high" doctrine of the real presence was strongly stated, and all the sophistries advanced to support it canonized. the sacramental bread and wine were treated with such superstitious reverence that a lutheran priest who accidentally spilled the latter was punished by having his fingers cut off. melanchthon was against such "remnants of { } papistry" which he rightly named "artolatry" or "bread-worship." but the civil wars within the lutheran communion were less bitter than the hatred for the calvinists. by their mutual detestation had reached such a point that calvin called the lutherans "ministers of satan" and "professed enemies of god" trying to bring in "adulterine rites" and vitiate the pure worship. the quarrel broke out again at the colloquy of worms. melanchthon and others condemned zwingli, thus, in calvin's opinion, "wiping off all their glory." nevertheless calvin himself had said, in , that zwingli's opinion was false and pernicious. so difficult is the path of orthodoxy to find! in the zwinglian leader m. schenck wrote to thomas blaurer that the error of the papists was rather to be borne than that of the saxons. nevertheless calvinism continued to grow in germany at the expense of lutheranism. especially after the formula of concord the "philippists" went over in large numbers to the calvinists. [sidenote: effect on the nation] the worst thing about these distressing controversies was that they seemed to absorb the whole energies of the nation. no period is less productive in modern german history than the age immediately following the triumph of the reformation. the movement, which had begun so liberally and hopefully, became, temporarily at least, narrower and more bigoted than catholicism. it seemed as if erasmus had been quite right when he said that where lutheranism reigned culture perished. of these men it has been said--and the epigram is not a bad one--that they made an intellectual desert and called it religious peace. and yet we should be cautious in history of assuming _post hoc propter hoc_. that there was nothing { } necessarily blighting in protestantism is shown by the examples of england and poland, where the reform was followed by the most brilliant literary age in the annals of these peoples. [sidenote: th century literature] the latter part of the sixteenth century was also the great period of the literature of spain and portugal, which remained catholic, whereas italy, equally catholic, notably declined in artistic production and somewhat also in letters. the causes of the alterations, in various peoples, of periods of productivity and of comparative sterility, are in part inscrutable. in the present case, it seems that when a relaxation of intellectual activity is visible, it was not due to any special quality in protestantism, but was rather caused by the heat of controversy. section . note on scandinavia, poland, and hungary [transcriber's note: the above section number is what appears in the original book, but it is a case of misnumbering, and is actually the chapter's sixth section.] a few small countries bordering on the empire, neither fully in the central stream of european culture, nor wholly outside of it, may be treated briefly. all of them were affected by the protestant revolution, the teutonic peoples permanently, the others transiently. scandinavia looms large in the middle ages as the home of the teeming multitudes of emigrants, goths and vandals, who swarmed over the roman empire. later waves from denmark and the contiguous portion of germany flooded england first in the anglo-saxon conquest and then in the danish. the normans, too, originally hailed from scandinavia. but though the sons of the north conquered and colonized so much of the south, scandinavia herself remained a small people, neither politically nor intellectually of the first importance. the three kingdoms of denmark, norway, and sweden became one in ; and, after sweden's temporary separation from the other two, were again united. the fifteenth century saw the { } great aggrandizement of the power of the prelates and of the larger nobles at the expense of the _bönder_, who, from a class of free and noble small proprietors degenerated not only into peasants but often into serfs. [sidenote: ] when christian ii succeeded to the throne, it was as the papal champion. his attempt to consolidate his power in sweden by massacring the magnates under the pretext that they were hostile to the pope, [sidenote: november - , ] an act called the "stockholm bath of blood," aroused the people against him in a war of independence. [sidenote: denmark] christian found denmark also insubordinate. it is true that he made some just laws, protecting the people and building up their prosperity, but their support was insufficient to counterbalance the hatred of the great lords spiritual and temporal. he was quick to see in the reformation a weapon against the prelates, and appealed for help to wittenberg as early as . his endeavors throughout to get luther himself to visit denmark failed, but early in he succeeded in attracting carlstadt for a short visit. this effort, however, cost him his throne, for he was expelled on april , , and wandered over europe in exile until his death. [sidenote: ] the duke of schleswig-holstein, to whom the crown was offered, reigned for ten years as frederic i. though his coronation oath bound him to do nothing against the church, he had only been king for three years before he came out openly for the reformation. in this again we must see primarily a policy, rather than a conviction. he was supported, however, by the common people, who had been disgusted by the indulgences sold by arcimboldi [sidenote: - ] and by the constant corruption of the higher clergy. the cities, as in germany, were the strongest centers of the movement. the diet of decreed that lutherans should be recognized on equal terms with catholics, that marriage of priests { } and the regular clergy be allowed. in a lutheran confession was adopted. christian iii, who reigned until , took the final step, though at the price of a civil war. his victory enabled him to arrest all the bishops, august , , and to force them to renounce their rights and properties in favor of the crown. only one, bishop rönnow of roskilde, refused, and was consequently held prisoner until his death. the diet of abolished catholicism, confiscated all church property and distributed it between the king and the temporal nobles. bugenhagen was called from wittenberg to organize the church on lutheran lines. [sidenote: - ] in the immediately following years the catholics were deprived of their civil rights. the political benefits of the reformation inured primarily to the king and secondarily to the third estate. [sidenote: norway] norway was a vassal of denmark from till . at no time was its dependence more complete than in the sixteenth century. frederic i introduced the reformation by royal decree as early as , and christian iii put the northern kingdom completely under the tutelage of denmark, [sidenote: ] in spiritual as well as in temporal matters. the adoption of the reformation here as in iceland seemed to be a matter of popular indifference. [sidenote: sweden] after sweden had asserted her independence by the expulsion of christian ii, gustavus vasa, an able ruler, ascended the throne. [sidenote: gustavus vasa, - ] he, too, saw in the reformation chiefly an opportunity for confiscating the goods of the church. the way had, indeed, been prepared by a popular reformer, olaus petri, but the king made the movement an excuse to concentrate in his own hands the spiritual power. the diet of westeras [sidenote: ] passed the necessary laws, at the same time expelling the chief leader of the romanist party, john brask, { } bishop of linköping. the reformation was entirely lutheran and extremely conservative. not only the anabaptists, but even the calvinists, failed to get any hold upon the scandinavian peoples. in many ways the reformation in sweden was parallel to that in england. both countries retained the episcopal organization founded upon the "apostolical succession." olaus magni, bishop of westeras, had been ordained at rome in , and in turn consecrated the first evangelical archbishop, lawrence petri, [sidenote: petri - ] who had studied at wittenberg, and who later translated the bible into swedish [sidenote: ] and protected his people from the inroads of calvinism. the king, more and more absolutely the head of the church, as in england, did not hesitate to punish even prominent reformers when they opposed him. the reign of gustavus's successor, eric xiv, [sidenote: eric xiv, - ] was characterless, save for the influx of huguenots strengthening the protestants. king john iii [sidenote: john iii, - ] made a final, though futile, attempt to reunite with the roman church. as finland was at this time a dependency of sweden, the reformation took practically the same course as in sweden itself. [sidenote: poland] a complete contrast to sweden is furnished by poland. if in the former the government counted for almost everything, in the latter it counted for next to nothing. the theater of polish history is the vast plain extending from the carpathians to the düna, and from the baltic almost to the black sea and the sea of azov. this region, lacking natural frontiers on several sides, was inhabited by a variety of races: poles in the west, lithuanians in the east, ruthenians in the south and many germans in the cities. the union of the polish and lithuanian states was as yet a merely personal one in the monarch. since the fourteenth century the crown of poland had been elective, but the grand-ducal crown of lithuania was { } hereditary in the famous house of jagiello, and the advantages of union induced the polish nobility regularly to elect the heir to the eastern domain their king. though theoretically absolute, in practice the king had been limited by the power of the nobles and gentry, and this limitation was given a constitutional sanction in the law _nihil novi_, [sidenote: ] forbidding the monarch to pass laws without the consent of the deputies of the magnates and lesser nobles. the foreign policy of sigismund i [sidenote: sigismund i, - ] was determined by the proximity of powerful and generally hostile neighbors. it would not be profitable in this place to follow at length the story of his frequent wars with muscovy and with the tartar hordes of the crimea, and of his diplomatic struggles with the turks, the empire, hungary, and sweden. on the whole he succeeded not only in holding his own, but in augmenting his power. he it was who finally settled the vexatious question of the relationship of his crown to the teutonic order, which, since , had held prussia as a fief, though a constantly rebellious and troublesome one. the election of albert of brandenburg as grand master of the order threatened more serious trouble, [sidenote: ] but a satisfactory solution of the problem was found when albert embraced the lutheran faith and secularized prussia as an hereditary duchy, at the same time swearing allegiance to sigismund as his suzerain. [sidenote: ] many years later sigismund's son conquered and annexed another domain of the teutonic order further north, namely livonia. [sidenote: ] war with sweden resulted from this but was settled by the cession of esthonia to the scandinavian power. internally, the vigorous jagiello strengthened both the military and financial resources of his people. to meet the constant inroads of the tartars he established the cossacks, a rough cavalry formed of the hunters, { } fishers, and graziers of the ukraine, quite analogous to the cowboys of the american wild west. from being a military body they developed into a state and nation that occupied a special position in poland and then in russia. sigismund's fiscal policy, by recovering control of the mint and putting the treasury into the hands of capable bankers, effectively provided for the economic life of the government. [sidenote: reformation] poland has generally been as open to the inroads of foreign ideas as to the attacks of enemies; a peculiar susceptibility to alien culture, due partly to the linguistic attainments of many educated poles and partly to an independent, almost anarchical disposition, has made this nation receive from other lands more freely than it gives. every wave of new ideas innundates the low-lying plain of the vistula. so the reformation spread with amazing rapidity, first among the cities and then among the peasants of that land. in the fifteenth century the influence of huss and the humanists had in different ways formed channels facilitating the inrush of lutheranism. the unpopularity of a wealthy and indolent church predisposed the body politic to the new infection. danzig, that "venice of the north," had a lutheran preacher in ; while the edict of thorn, intended to suppress the heretics, indicates that as early as they had attracted the attention of the central government. but this persecuting measure, followed thick and fast by others, only proved how little the tide could be stemmed by paper barriers. the cities of cracow, posen, and lublin, especially susceptible on account of their german population, were thoroughly infected before . next, the contagion attacked the country districts and towns of prussia, which had been pretty thoroughly converted prior to its secularization. the first political effect of the reformation was to { } stimulate the unrest of the lower classes. riots and rebellions, analogous to those of the peasants' war in germany, followed hard upon the preaching of the "gospel." sigismund could restore order here and there, as he did at danzig in by a military occupation, by fining the town and beheading her six leading innovators, but he could not suppress the growing movement. for after the accession of the lower classes came that of the nobles and gentry who bore the real sovereignty in the state. seeing in the reformation a weapon for humiliating and plundering the church, as well as a key to a higher spiritual life, from one motive or the other, they flocked to its standard, and, under leadership of their greatest reformer, john laski, organized a powerful church. the reign of sigismund ii [sidenote: sigismund ii, - ] saw the social upheaval by which the nobility finally placed the power firmly in their own hands, and also the height of the reformation. by a law known as the "execution" the assembly of nobles finally got control of the executive as well as of the legislative branch of the government. at the same time they, with the cordial assistance of the king, bound the country together in a closer bond known as the union of lublin. [sidenote: ] though lithuania and prussia struggled against incorporation with poland, both were forced to submit to a measure that added power to the state and opened to the polish nobility great opportunity for political and economic exploitation of these lands. not only the king, but the magnates and the cities were put under the heel of the ruling caste. this was an evolution opposite to that of most european states, in which crown and bourgeoisie subdued the once proud position of the baronage. but even here in poland one sees the rising influence of commerce and the money-power, in that the polish nobility was largely composed of small { } gentry eager and able to exploit the new opportunities offered by capitalism. in other countries the old privilege of the sword gave way to the new privilege of gold; in poland the sword itself turned golden, at least in part; the blade kept its keen, steel edge, but the hilt by which it was wielded glittered yellow. [sidenote: protestantism] unchecked though they were by laws, the protestants soon developed a weakness that finally proved fatal to their cause, lack of organization and division into many mutually hostile sects. [sidenote: ] the anabaptists of course arrived, preached, gained adherents, and were suppressed. [sidenote: ] next came a large influx of bohemian brethren, expelled from their own country and migrating to a land of freedom, where they soon made common cause with the lutherans. [sidenote: ] calvinists propagated the seeds of their faith with much success. finally the unitarians, led by lelio sozini, found a home in poland and made many proselytes, at last becoming so powerful that they founded the new city of racau, whence issued the famous racovian catechism. at one time they seemed about to obtain the mastery of the state, but the firm union of the trinitarian protestants at sandomir [sidenote: ] checked them until all of them were swept away together by the resurging tide of catholicism. several versions of the bible, lutheran, socinian, and catholic, were issued. so powerful were the evangelicals that at the diet of they held services in the face of the catholic king, and passed a law abolishing the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts. this measure, of course, allowed freedom of all new sects, both those then in control of the diet and the as yet unfledged antitrinitarians. nevertheless a strong wish was expressed for a national, protestant church, and had sigismund had the advantages, as he had the matrimonial difficulties, of henry viii, he might have { } established such a body. but he never quite dared to take the step, dreading the hostility of catholic neighbors. singularly enough the championship of the catholic cause was undertaken by greek-catholic muscovy, [sidenote: ] whose czar, ivan, represented his war against poland as a crusade against the new iconoclasts. unable to act with power, sigismund cultivated such means of combating protestantism as were ready to his hand. his most trenchant weapon was the order of jesuits, who were invited to come in and establish schools. moreover, the excellence of their colleges in foreign lands induced many of the nobility to send their sons to be educated under them, and thus were prepared the seeds of the counter-reformation. the death of sigismund without an heir left poland for a time masterless. during the interregnum the diet passed the compact of warsaw by which absolute religious liberty was granted to all sects--"dissidentes de religione"--without exception. [sidenote: january , ] but, liberal though the law was, it was vitiated in practice by the right retained by every master of punishing his serfs for religious as well as for secular causes. thus it was that the lower classes were marched from protestant pillar to catholic post and back without again daring to rebel or to express any choice in the matter. the election of henry of valois, [sidenote: henry, may , ] a younger son of catharine de' medici, was made conditional on the acceptance of a number of articles, including the maintenance of religious liberty. the prince acceded, with some reservations, and was crowned on february , . four months later he heard of the death of his brother, charles ix, making him king of france. without daring to ask leave of absence, he absconded from poland on june , thereby abandoning a throne which was promptly declared vacant. the new election presented great difficulties, and { } almost led to civil war. while the senate declared for the hapsburg maximilian ii, the diet chose stephen báthory, prince of transylvania. [sidenote: stephen báthory, - ] only the unexpected death of maximilian prevented an armed collision between the two. báthory, now in possession, forced his recognition by all parties and led the land of his adoption into a period of highly successful diplomacy and of victorious war against muscovy. his religious policy was one of pacification, conciliation, and of supporting inconspicuously the jesuit foundations at wilna, posen, cracow, and eiga. but the full fruits of their propaganda, resulting in the complete reconversion of poland to catholicism were not reaped until the reign of his successor, sigismund iii, a vasa, of sweden. [sidenote: sigismund iii, - ] [sidenote: bohemia] bohemia, a slav kingdom long united historically and dynastically with the empire, as the home of huss, welcomed the reformation warmly, the brethren turning first to luther and then to calvin. after various efforts to suppress and banish them had failed of large success, the compact of granted toleration to the three principal churches. as in poland, the jesuits won back the whole land in the next generation, so that in there were in bohemia , , catholics and only , protestants. [sidenote: hungary, ] hungary was so badly broken by the turks at the battle of mohács that she was able to play but little part in the development of western civilization. like her more powerful rival, she was also distracted by internal dissention. after the death of her king lewis at mohács there were two candidates for the throne, ferdinand the emperor's brother and john zapolya, [sidenote: zapolya, - ] "woiwod" or prince of transylvania. protestantism had a considerable hold on the nobles, who, after the shattering of the national power, divided a portion of the goods of the church between them. { } the unitarian movement was also strong for a time, and the division this caused proved almost fatal to the reformation, for the greater part of the kingdom was won back to catholicism under the jesuits' leadership. [sidenote: - ] in there were about , , catholics in hungary and about , , protestants. [sidenote: transylvania] transylvania, though a dependency of the turks, was allowed to keep the christian religion. the saxon colonists in this state welcomed the reformation, formally recognizing the augsburg confession in a synod of . here also the unitarians attained their greatest strength, being recruited partly from those expelled from poland. they drew their inspiration not merely from sozini, but from a variety of sources, for the doctrine appeared simultaneously among certain anabaptist and spiritualist sects. toleration was granted them on the same terms as other christians. the name "unitarian" first appears in a decree of the transylvania diet of the year . an appreciable body of this persuasion still remains in the country, together with a number of lutherans, calvinists, and romanists, but the large majority of the people belong to two greek catholic churches. { } chapter iii switzerland section . zwingli [sidenote: the swiss confederation] amid the snow-clad alps and azure lakes of switzerland there grew up a race of germans which, though still nominally a part of the empire, had, at the period now considered, long gone on its own distinct path of development. politically, the confederacy arose in a popular revolt against the house of austria. the federal union of the three forest cantons of uri, schwyz, and unterwalden, first entered into in and made permanent in , was strengthened by the admission of lucerne ( ), zug ( ), glarus ( ) and of the imperial cities of zurich ( ) and berne ( ). by the admission of freiburg and solothurn ( ), basle ( ), schaffhausen ( ) and appenzell ( ) the confederacy reached the number of thirteen cantons at which it remained for many years. by this time it was recognized as a practically independent state, courted by the great powers of europe. allied to this german confederacy were two romance-speaking states of a similar nature, the confederacies of the valais and of the grisons. the swiss were then the one free people of europe. republican government by popular magistrates prevailed in all the cantons. liberty was not quite democratic, for the cantons ruled several subject provinces, and in the cities a somewhat aristocratic electorate held power; nevertheless there was no state in europe approaching the swiss in self-government. though they were generally accounted the best soldiers of the { } day, their military valor did not redound to their own advantage, for the hardy peasantry yielded to the solicitations of the great powers around them to enter into foreign, mercenary service. the influential men, especially the priests, took pensions from the pope or from france or from other princes, in return for their labors in recruiting. the system was a bad one for both sides. swiss politics were corrupted and the land drained of its strongest men; whereas the princes who hired the mercenaries often found to their cost that such soldiers were not only the most formidable to their enemies but also the most troublesome to themselves, always on the point of mutiny for more pay and plunder. the swiss were beginning to see the evils of the system, and prohibited the taking of pensions in , though this law remained largely a dead letter. [sidenote: september - , ] the reputation of the mountaineers suffered a blow in their defeat by the french at marignano, followed by a treaty with france, intended by that power to make switzerland a permanent dependency in return for a large annual subsidy payable to each of the thirteen cantons and to the grisons and valais as well. the country suffered from faction. the rural or "forest" cantons were jealous of the cities, and the latter, especially berne, the strongest, pursued selfish policies of individual aggrandizement at the expense of their confederates. as everywhere else, the cities were the centers of culture and of social movements. basle was famous for its university and for the great printing house of froben. here albert dürer had stayed for a while during his wandering years. here sebastian brant had studied and had written his famous satire. here the great erasmus had come to publish his new testament. but the reformation in switzerland was only in [sidenote: - ] { } part a child of humanism. nationalism played its rôle in the revolt from rome, memories of councils lingered at constance and basle, and the desire for a purer religion made itself felt among the more earnest. switzerland had at least one great shrine, that of einsiedeln; to her virgin many pilgrims came yearly in hopes of the plenary indulgence, expressly promising forgiveness of both guilt and penalty of sin. berne was the theater of one of the most reverberating scandals enacted by the contemporary church. [sidenote: the jetzer scandal] a passionately contested theological issue of the day was whether the virgin had been immaculately conceived. this was denied by the dominicans and asserted by the franciscans. some of the dominicans of the friary at berne thought that the best way to settle the affair was to have a direct revelation. for their fraudulent purposes they conspired with john jetzer, a lay brother admitted in , who died after . whether as a tool in the hands of others, or as an imposter, jetzer produced a series of bogus apparitions, bringing the virgin on the stage and making her give details of her conception sufficiently gross to show that it took place in the ordinary, and not in the immaculate, manner. [sidenote: ] when the fraud was at last discovered by the authorities, four of the dominicans involved were burnt at the stake. but the vague forces of discontent might never have crystallized into a definite movement save for the leadership of ulrich zwingli. [sidenote: zwingli] he was born january , , on the toggenburg, amidst the lofty mountains, breathing the atmosphere of freedom and beauty from the first. as he wandered in the wild passes he noticed how the marmots set a sentry to warn them of danger, and how the squirrel crossed the stream on a chip. when he returned to the home of his father, a local magistrate in easy circumstances, he heard { } stirring tales of swiss freedom and swiss valor that planted in his soul a deep love of his native land. the religion he learned was good catholic; and the element of popular superstition in it was far less weird and terrible than in northern germany. he remembered one little tale told him by his grandmother, how the lord god and peter slept together in the same bed, and were wakened each morning by the housekeeper coming in and pulling the hair of the outside man. education began early under the tuition of an uncle, the parish priest. at ten ulrich was sent to basle to study. here he progressed well, becoming the head scholar, and here he developed a love of music and considerable skill in it. later he went to school at berne, where he attracted the attention of some friars who tried to guide him into their cloister, an effort apparently frustrated by his father. in the autumn of he matriculated at vienna. for some unknown cause he was suspended soon afterwards, but was readmitted in the spring of . two years later he went to basle, where he completed his studies by taking the master's degree. [sidenote: ] while here he taught school for a while. theology apparently interested him little; his passion was for the humanities, and his idol was erasmus. only in did he begin to learn greek. if, at twenty-two, before he had reached the canonical age, zwingli took orders, and became parish priest at glarus, it was less because of any deep religious interest than because he found in the clerical calling the best opportunity to cultivate his taste for letters. he was helped financially by a papal pension of fifty gulden per annum. his first published work was a fable. [sidenote: ] the lion, the leopard, and the fox (the emperor, france, and venice) try to drive the ox { } (switzerland) out of his pasture, but are frustrated by the herdsman (the pope). the same tendencies--papal, patriotic, and political--are shown in his second book, [sidenote: ] an account of the relations between the swiss and french, and in _the labyrinth_, [sidenote: ] an allegorical poem. the various nations appear again as animals, but the hero, theseus, is a patriot guided by the ariadne thread of reason, while he is vanquishing the monsters of sin, shame, and vice. zwingli's natural interest in politics was nourished by his experiences as field chaplain of the swiss forces at the battles of novara [sidenote: ] and marignano. [sidenote: ] was he already a reformer? not in the later sense of the word, but he was a disciple of erasmus. capito wrote to bullinger in : "while luther was in the hermitage and had not yet emerged into the light, zwingli and i took counsel how to cast down the pope. for then our judgment was maturing under the influence of erasmus's society and by reading good authors." though capito over-estimated the opposition of the young swiss to the papacy, he was right in other respects. zwingli's enthusiasm for the prince of humanists, perfectly evident in his notes on st. paul, stimulated him to visit the older scholar at basle in the spring of . their correspondence began at the same time. is it not notable that in _the labyrinth_ the thread of ariadne is not religion, but reason? his religious ideal, as shown by his notes on st. paul, was at this time the erasmian one of an ethical, undogmatic faith. he interpreted the apostle by the sermon on the mount and by plato. he was still a good catholic, without a thought of breaking away from the church. [sidenote: october, -december, ] from glarus zwingli was called to einsiedeln, where he remained for two years. here he saw the superstitious absurdities mocked by erasmus. here, too, { } he first came into contact with indulgences, sold throughout switzerland by bernard samson, a milanese franciscan. zwingli did not attack them with the impassioned zeal of luther, but ridiculed them as "a comedy." his position did not alienate him from the papal authorities, [sidenote: september , ] for he applied for, and received, the appointment of papal acolyte. how little serious was his life at this time may be seen from the fact that he openly confessed that he was living in unchastity and even joked about it. notwithstanding his peccadillos, as he evidently regarded them, high hopes were conceived of his abilities and independence of character. when a priest was wanted at zurich, [sidenote: january , ] zwingli applied for the position and, after strenuous canvassing, succeeded in getting it. soon after this came the turning-point in zwingli's life, making of the rather worldly young man an earnest apostle. two causes contributed to this. the first was the plague. zwingli was taken sick in september and remained in a critical condition for many months. as is so often the case, suffering and the fear of death made the claims of the other world so terribly real to him that, for the first time, he cried unto god from the depths, and consecrated his life to service of his saviour. [sidenote: ] the second influence that decided and deepened zwingli's life was that of luther. he first mentions him in , and from that time forth, often. all his works and all his acts thereafter show the impress of the wittenberg professor. though zwingli himself sturdily asserted that he preached the gospel before he heard of luther, and that he learned his whole doctrine direct from the bible, he deceived himself, as many men do, in over-estimating his own originality. he was truly able to say that he had formulated some { } of his ideas, in dependence on erasmus, before he heard of the saxon; and he still retained his capacity for private judgment afterwards. he never followed any man slavishly, and in some respects he was more radical than luther; nevertheless it is true that he was deeply indebted to the great german. significantly enough, the first real conflict broke out at zurich early in . zwingli preached against fasting and monasticism, and put forward the thesis that the gospel alone should be the rule of faith and practice. he succeeded in carrying through a practical reform of the cathedral chapter, but was obliged to compromise on fasting. soon afterwards zurich renounced obedience to the bishop. the forest cantons, already jealous of the prosperity of the cities, endeavored to intervene, but were warned by zwingli not to appeal to war, as it was an unchristian thing. opposition only drove his reforming zeal to further efforts. in the spring of zwingli formed with anna reinhard meyer a union which he kept secret for two years, when he married her in church. in the marriage itself, though it was by no means unhappy, there was something lacking of fine feeling and of perfect love. [sidenote: reformation in zurich] as the reform progressed, the need of clarification was felt. this was brought about by the favorite method of that day, a disputation. the catholics tried in vain to prevent it, and it was actually held in january, , on theses drawn up by zwingli. here, as so often, it was found that the battle was half won when the innovators were heard. they themselves attributed this to the excellence of their cause; but, without disparaging that, it must be said that, as the psychology of advertising has shown, any thesis presented with sufficient force to catch the public ear, is { } sure to win a certain number of adherents. [sidenote: october , ] the town council of zurich ordered the abolition of images and of the mass. the opposition of the cathedral chapter considerably delayed the realization of this program. in december the council was obliged to concede further discussion. it was not until wednesday, april , , that mass was said for the last time in zurich. its place was immediately taken, the next day, maundy thursday, by a simple communion service. at the same time the last of the convents were suppressed, or put in a condition assuring their eventual extinction. other reforms included the abolition of processions, of confirmation and of extreme unction. with homely caution, a large number of simple souls had this administered to them just before the time allotted for its last celebration. organs were taken out of the churches, and regular lectures on the bible given. alarmed by these innovations the five original cantons,--unterwalden, uri, schwyz, lucerne and zug,--formed a league in to suppress the "hussite, lutheran, and zwinglian heresies." for a time it looked like war. zwingli and his advisers drew up a remarkably thorough plan of campaign, including a method of securing allies, many military details, and an ample provision for prayer for victory. war, however, was averted by the mediation of berne as a friend of zurich, and the complete religious autonomy of each canton was guaranteed. the swiss reformation had to run the same course of separation from the humanists and radicals, and of schism, as did the german movement. though erasmus was a little closer to the swiss than he had been to the saxon reformers, he was alienated by the outrageous taunts of some of them and by the equally unwarranted attempts of others to show that he agreed { } with them. "they falsely call themselves evangelical," he opined, "for they seek only two things: a salary and a wife." then came the break with luther, of which the story has already been told. the division was caused neither by jealousy, nor by the one doctrine--that of the real presence--on which it was nominally fought. there was in reality a wide difference between the two types of thought. the saxon was both mystic and a schoolman; to him religion was all in all and dogma a large part of religion. zwingli approached the problem of salvation from a less personal, certainly from a less agonized, and from a more legal, liberal, empiric standpoint. he felt for liberty and for the value of common action in the state. he interpreted the bible by reason; luther placed his reason under the tuition of the bible in its apparent meaning. [sidenote: anabaptists, ] next came the turn of the anabaptists--those bolsheviki of the sixteenth century. their first leaders appeared at zurich and were for a while bosom friends of zwingli. but a parting of the ways was inevitable, for the humanist could have little sympathy with an uncultured and ignorant group--such they were, in spite of the fact that a few leaders were university graduates--and the statesman could not admit in his categories a purpose that was sectarian as against the state church, and democratic as against the existing aristocracy. [sidenote: ] his first work against them shows how he was torn between his desire to make the bible his only guide and the necessity of compromising with the prevailing polity. as he was unable to condemn his opponents on any consistent grounds he was obliged to prefer against them two charges that were false, though probably believed true by himself. as they were { } ascetics in some particulars he branded them as monastic; for their social program he called them seditious. the suppression of the peasants' revolt had the effect in switzerland, as elsewhere, of causing the poor and oppressed to lose heart, and of alienating them from the cause of the official protestant churches. a disputation with the anabaptist leaders was held at zurich; [sidenote: november - , ] they were declared refuted, and the council passed an order for all unbaptized children to be christened within a week. the leaders were arrested and tried; zwingli bearing testimony that they advocated communism, which he considered wrong as the bible's injunction not to steal implied the right of private property. the anabaptists denied that they were communists, but the leaders were bound over to keep the peace, some were fined and others banished. as persecuting measures almost always increase in severity, it was not long before the death penalty was denounced against the sectaries, and actually applied. in a polemic against the new sect entitled _in catabaptistarum strophas elenchus_, [sidenote: july ] zwingli's only argument is a criticism of some inconsistencies in the anabaptists' biblicism; his final appeal is to force. his strife with them was harder than his battle with rome. it seems that the reformer fears no one so much as him who carries the reformer's own principles to lengths that the originator disapproves. zwingli saw in the fearless fanatics men prepared to act in political and social matters as he had done in ecclesiastical affairs; he dreaded anarchy or, at least, subversion of the polity he preferred, and, like all the other men of his age, he branded heresy as rebellion and punished it as crime. [sidenote: theocracy] by this time zurich had become a theocracy of the same tyrannical type as that later made famous by { } geneva. zwingli took the position of an old testament prophet, subordinating state to church. at first he had agreed with the anabaptists in separating (theoretically) church and state. but he soon came to believe that, though true christians might need no government, it was necessary to control the wicked, and for this purpose he favored an aristocratic polity. all matters of morals were strictly regulated, severe laws being passed against taverns and gambling. the inhabitants were forced to attend church. after the suppression of the catholics and the radicals, there developed two parties just as later in geneva, the evangelical and the indifferent, the policy of the latter being one of more freedom, or laxity, in discipline, and in general a preference of political to religious ends. [sidenote: basle november, ] the reformation had now established itself in other cities of german switzerland. oecolampadius coming to basle as the bearer of evangelical ideas, won such success that soon the bishop was deprived of authority, [sidenote: ] two disputations with the catholics were held, [sidenote: ] and the monasteries abolished. [sidenote: ] oecolampadius, after taking counsel with zwingli on the best means of suppressing catholic worship, branded the mass as an act worse than theft, harlotry, adultery, treason, and murder, called a meeting of the town council, and requested them to decree the abolition of catholic worship. [sidenote: october , ] though they replied that every man should be free to exercise what religion he liked, on good friday, , the protestants removed the images from oecolampadius's church, and grumbled because their enemies were yet tolerated. liberty of conscience was only assured by the fairly equal division of the membership of the town council. on december , , two hundred citizens assembled and presented a petition, drawn up by oecolampadius, for the suppression of { } the mass. on january , , under pressure from the ambassadors of berne and zurich, the town council of basle decreed that all pastors should preach only the word of god, and asked them to assemble for instruction on this point. the compromise suited no one and on february the long prepared revolution broke out. under pretence that the catholics had disobeyed the last decree, a protestant mob surrounded the town hall, planted cannon, and forced the council to expel the twelve catholic members, meanwhile destroying church pictures and statues. "it was indeed a spectacle so sad to the superstitious," oecolampadius wrote to capito, "that they had to weep blood. . . . we raged against the idols, and the mass died of sorrow." a somewhat similar development took place in berne, st. gall, schaffhausen, and glarus. the favorite instrument for arousing popular interest and support was the disputation. such an one was held at baden in may and june, . zwingli declined to take part in this and the catholics claimed the victory. this, however, did them rather harm than good, for the public felt that the cards had been stacked. a similar debate at berne in turned that city completely to the reformation. a synod of the swiss evangelical churches was formed in . this made for uniformity. the publication of the bible in a translation by leo jud and others, with prefaces by zwingli, proved a help to the evangelical cause. [sidenote: ] this translation was the only one to compete at all successfully with luther's. the growing strength of the protestant cantons encouraged them to carry the reform by force in all places in which a majority was in favor of it. zwingli's far-reaching plans included an alliance with hesse and with francis i to whom he dedicated his { } two most important theological works, _true and false religion_ and _an exposition of the christian faith_. [sidenote: april, ] the catholic cantons replied by making a league with austria. war seemed imminent and zwingli was so heartily in favor of it that he threatened resignation if zurich did not declare war. this was accordingly done on june . thirty thousand protestant soldiers marched against the catholic cantons, which, without the expected aid from austria, were able to put only nine thousand men into the field. seeing themselves hopelessly outnumbered, the catholics prudently negotiated a peace without risking a battle. [sidenote: first peace of cappel] the terms of this first peace of cappel forced the catholics to renounce the alliance with austria, and to allow the majority of citizens in each canton to decide the religion they would follow. toleration for protestants was provided for in catholic cantons, though toleration of the old religion was denied in the evangelical cantons. this peace marked the height of zwingli's power. he continued to negotiate on equal terms with luther, and he sent missionaries into geneva to win it to his cause and to the confederacy. the catholic cantons, stung to the quick, again sought aid from austria and raised another and better army. [sidenote: defeat of zwingli] zwingli heard of this and advocated a swift blow to prevent it--the "offensive defence." berne refused to join zurich in this aggression, but agreed to bring pressure to bear on the catholics [sidenote: may ] by proclaiming a blockade of their frontiers. an army was prepared by the forest cantons, but berne, whose entirely selfish policy was more disastrous to the evangelical cause than was the hostility of the league, still refused to engage in war. zurich was therefore obliged to meet it alone. an army of only two thousand zurichers marched out, accompanied by zwingli as field chaplain. eight thousand catholic troops attacked, utterly defeated them, and { } killed many on the field of battle. [sidenote: october , ] zwingli, who, though a non-combatant, was armed, was wounded and left on the field. later he was recognized by enemies, killed, and his body burned as that of a heretic. the defeat was a disaster to protestant switzerland not so much on account of the terms of peace, which were moderate, as because of the loss of prestige and above all of the great leader. his spirit however, continued to inspire his followers, and lived in the reformed church. indeed it has been said, though with exaggeration, that calvin only gave his name to the church founded by zwingli, just as americus gave his name to the continent discovered by columbus. in many respects zwingli was the most liberal of the reformers. in his last work he expressed the belief that in heaven would be saved not only christians and the worthies of the old testament but also "hercules, theseus, socrates, aristides, antigonus, numa, camillus, the catos and scipios. . . . in a word no good man has ever existed, nor shall there exist a holy mind, a faithful soul, from the very foundation of the world to its consummation, whom you will not see there with god." nevertheless, zwingli was a persecutor and was bound by many of the dogmatic prepossessions of his time. but his religion had in it less of miracle and more of reason than that of any other founder of a church in the sixteenth century. he was a statesman, and more willing to trust the people than were his contemporaries, but yet he was ready to sacrifice his country to his creed. for a short time after the death of so many of its leading citizens in the battle of cappel, zurich was reduced to impotence and despair. nor was she much comforted or assisted by her neighbors. oecolampadius died but a few weeks after his friend; while { } luther and erasmus sang paeans of triumph over the prostration of their rivals. even calvin considered it a judgment of god. gradually by her own strength zurich won her way back to peace and a certain influence. [sidenote: bullinger, - ] zwingli's follower, henry bullinger, the son of a priest, was a remarkable man. he not only built up his own city but his active correspondence with protestants of all countries did a great deal to spread the cause of the evangelical religion. in conjunction with myconius, he drew up the first swiss confession, [sidenote: ] accepted by zurich, berne, basle, schaffhausen, st. gall, mülhausen and biel; [sidenote: ] and later he made the agreement with calvin known as the consensus tigurinus. in this the zwinglian and calvinistic doctrines of the eucharist were harmonized as far as possible. but while the former decreased the latter increased, and geneva took the place of zurich as the metropolis of the reformed faith. section . calvin on january , , thomas von hofen wrote zwingli from geneva that he would do all he could to exalt the gospel in that city but that he knew it would be vain, for there were seven hundred priests working against him. this letter gives an insight into the methods by which new territory was evangelized, the quarters whence came the new influences, and the forces with which they had to contend. among the early missionaries of "the gospel" in french-speaking lands, one of the most energetic was william farel. [sidenote: farel, - ] he had studied at paris under lèfevre d'Étaples, and was converted to lutheranism as early as . he went first to basle, where he learned to know erasmus. far from showing respect to the older and more famous man, he scornfully told him to his face that froben's wife knew more theology than { } did he. erasmus's resentment showed itself in the nickname phallicus that he fastened on his antagonist. from basle farel went to montbéliard and aigle, preaching fearlessly but so fiercely that his friend oecolampadius warned him to remember rather to teach than to curse. [sidenote: ] after attending the disputation at berne he evangelized western switzerland. his methods may be learned from his work at valangin on august , . he attended a mass, but in the midst of it went up to the priest, tore the host forcibly from his hands, and said to the people: "this is not the god whom you worship: he is above in heaven, even in the majesty of the father." in he went to geneva. notwithstanding the fact that here, as often elsewhere, he narrowly escaped lynching, he made a great impression. his red hair and hot temper evidently had their uses. [sidenote: calvin, - ] _the_ reformer of french switzerland was not destined to be farel, however, but john calvin. born at noyon, picardy, his mother died early and his father, who did not care for children, sent him to the house of an aristocratic friend to be reared. in this environment he acquired the distinguished manners and the hauteur for which he was noted. when john was six years old his father, gerard, had him appointed to a benefice just as nowadays he might have got him a scholarship. at the age of twelve gerard's influence procured for his son another of these ecclesiastical livings and two years later this was exchanged for a more lucrative one to enable the boy to go to paris. here for some years, at the college of montaigu, calvin studied scholastic philosophy and theology under noel beda, a medieval logic-chopper and schoolman by temperament. at the university calvin won from his fellows the sobriquet of "the accusative case," on account of his censorious { } and fault-finding disposition. at his father's wish john changed from theology to law. for a time he studied at the universities of orleans and bourges. at orleans he came under the influence of two protestants, olivetan and the german melchior volmar. on the death of his father, in , he began to devote himself to the humanities. his first work, a commentary on seneca's _de clementia_, witnesses his wide reading, his excellent latin style, and his ethical interests. it was apparently through the humanists erasmus and lefèvre that he was led to the study of the bible and of luther's writings. probably in the fall of he experienced a "conversion" such as stands at the head of many a religious career. a sudden beam of light, he says, came to him at this time from god, putting him to the proof and showing him in how deep an abyss of error and of filth he had been living. he thereupon abandoned his former life with tears. in the spring of calvin gave up the sinecure benefices he had held, and towards the end of the year left france because of the growing persecution, for he had already rendered himself suspect. after various wanderings he reached basle, where he published the first edition of his _institutes of the christian religion_. [sidenote: institutes of the christian religion, ] it was dedicated, like two of zwingli's works, to francis i, with a strong plea for the new faith. it was, nevertheless, condemned and burnt publicly in france in . originally written in latin it was translated by the author into french in , and reissued from time to time in continually larger editions, the final one, of , being five times as bulky as the first impression. the thought, too, though not fundamentally changed, was rearranged and developed. only in the redaction of was { } predestination made perfectly clear. the first edition, like luther's catechism, took up in order the decalogue, the creed, the lord's prayer, and the sacraments. to this was added a section on christian liberty, the power of the church, and civil government. in the last edition the arrangement followed entirely the order of articles in the apostles' creed, all the other matter being digested in its relation to faith. [sidenote: a system of theology] in the _institutes_ calvin succeeded in summing up the whole of protestant christian doctrine and practice. it is a work of enormous labor and thought. its rigid logic, comprehensiveness, and clarity have secured it the same place in the protestant churches that the _summa_ of aquinas has in the roman theology. it is like the _summa_, in other ways, primarily in that it is an attempt to derive an absolute, unchangeable standard of dogma from premises considered infallible. those who have found great freshness in calvin, a new life and a new realism, can do so only in comparison with the older schoolmen. calvin simply went over their ground, introducing into their philosophy all the connotations that three centuries of progress had made necessary. this is not denying that his work was well written and that it filled a need urgently felt at the time. calvin cultivated style, both french and latin, with great care, for he saw its immense utility for propaganda. he studied especially brevity, and thought that he carried it to an extreme, though the french edition of the _institutes_ fills more than eight hundred large octavo pages. however, all things are relative, and compared to many other theologians calvin is really concise and readable. there is not one original thought in any of calvin's works. i do not mean "original" in any narrow sense, for to the searcher for sources it seems that { } there is literally nothing new under the sun. but there is nothing in calvin for which ample authority cannot be found in his predecessors. recognizing the bible as his only standard, he interpreted it according to the new protestant doctors. first and foremost he was dependent on luther, and to an extent that cannot be exaggerated. especially from the _catechisms_, _the bondage of the will_, and _the babylonian captivity of the church_, calvin drew all his principal doctrines even to details. he also borrowed something from bucer, erasmus and schwenckfeld, as well as from three writers who were in a certain sense his models. melanchthon's _commonplaces of theology_, zwingli's _true and false religion_, and farel's _brief instruction in christian faith_ had all done tentatively what he now did finally. [sidenote: theocentric character] the center of calvin's philosophy was god as the almighty will. his will was the source of all things, of all deeds, of all standards of right and wrong and of all happiness. the sole purpose of the universe, and the sole intent of its creator, was the glorification of the deity. man's chief end was "to glorify god and enjoy him forever." god accomplished this self-exaltation in all things, but chiefly through men, his noblest work, and he did it in various ways, by the salvation of some and the damnation of others. and his act was purely arbitrary; he foreknew and predestined the fate of every man from the beginning; he damned and saved irrespective of foreseen merit. "god's eternal decree" calvin himself called "frightful." [ ] the outward sign of election to grace he thought was moral behavior, and in this respect he demanded the uttermost from himself and from his followers. the elect, he thought, were certain of salvation. the highest virtue was faith, a matter more { } of the heart than of the reason. the divinity of christ, he said, was apprehended by christian experience, not by speculation. reason was fallacious; left to itself the human spirit "could do nothing but lose itself in infinite error, embroil itself in difficulties and grope in opaque darkness." but god has given us his word, infallible and inerrant, something that "has flowed from his very mouth." "we can only seek god in his word," he said, "nor think of him otherwise than according to his word." inevitably, calvin sought to use the bible as a rigid, moral law to be fulfilled to the letter. his ethics were an elaborate casuistry, a method of finding the proper rule to govern the particular act. he preached a new legalism; [sidenote: legalism] he took scripture as the pharisees took the law, and luther's sayings as they took the prophets, and he turned them all into stiff, fixed laws. thus he crushed the glorious autonomy of his predecessor's ethical principles. it was kant, who denied all luther's specific beliefs, but who developed his idea of the individual conscience, that was the true heir of his spirit, not calvin who crushed the spirit in elaborating every jot and tittle of the letter. in precisely the same manner calvin killed luther's doctrine of the priesthood of all believers. to calvin the church was a sacramental, aristocratic organization, with an authoritative ministry. the german rebelled against the idea of the church as such; the frenchman simply asked what was the true church. so he brought back some of the sacramental miracle of baptism and the eucharist. in the latter he remained as medieval as luther, never getting beyond the question of the mode of the presence of the body and blood of christ in the bread and wine. his endeavor to rationalize the doctrine of augsburg, especially with reference to the zwinglians, had disastrous results. only two { } positions were possible, that the body and blood were present, or that they were not. by endeavoring to find some middle ground calvin upheld a contradiction in terms: the elements were signs and yet were realities; the body was really there when the bread was eaten by a believer, but really not there when the same bread was eaten by an infidel. the presence was actual, and yet participation could only occur by faith. while rejecting some of luther's explanations, calvin was undoubtedly nearer his position than that of zwingli, which he characterized as "profane." as few instructed and thinking persons now accept the conclusions of the _institutes_, it is natural to underestimate the power that they exercised in their own day. this book was the most effective weapon of protestantism. this was partly because of the style, but, still more because of the faultless logic. [sidenote: his logic] the success of an argument usually depends far less on the truth of the premises than on the validity of the reasoning. and the premises selected by calvin not only seemed natural to a large body of educated european opinion of his time, but were such that their truth or falsity was very difficult to demonstrate convincingly. calvin's system has been overthrown not by direct attack, but by the flank, in science as in war the most effective way. to take but one example out of many that might be given: what has modern criticism made of calvin's doctrine of the inerrancy of scripture? but this science was as yet all but unknown: biblical exegesis there was in plenty, but it was only to a minute extent literary and historical; it was almost exclusively philological and dogmatic. calvin's doctrine of the arbitrary dealing out of salvation and damnation irrespective of merit has often excited a moral rather than an intellectual revulsion. to his true followers, indeed, like jonathan { } edwards, it seems "a delightful doctrine, exceeding bright, pleasant and sweet." [sidenote: eternal damnation] but many men agree with gibbon that it makes god a cruel and capricious tyrant and with william james that it is sovereignly irrational and mean. even at that time those who said that a man's will had no more to do with his destiny than the stick in a man's hand could choose where to strike or than a saddled beast could choose its rider, aroused an intense opposition. erasmus argued that damnation given for inevitable crimes would make god unjust, and thomas more blamed luther for calling god the cause of evil and for saying "god doth damn so huge a number of people to intolerable torments only for his own pleasure and for his own deeds wrought in them only by himself." an english heretic, cole of faversham, said that the doctrine of predestination was meeter for devils than for christians. "the god of calvin," exclaimed jerome bolsec, "is a hypocrite, a liar, perfidious, unjust, the abetter and patron of crimes, and worse than the devil himself." but there was another side to the doctrine of election. there was a certain moral grandeur in the complete abandon to god and in the earnestness that was ready to sacrifice all to his will. and if we judge the tree by its fruits, at its best it brought forth a strong and good race. the noblest examples are not the theologians, calvin and knox, not only drunk with god but drugged with him, much less politicians like henry of navarre and william of orange, but the rank and file of the huguenots of france, the puritans of england, "the choice and sifted seed wherewith god sowed the wilderness" of america. these men bore themselves with i know not what of lofty seriousness, and with a matchless disdain of all mortal peril and all earthly grandeur. believing themselves chosen vessels and elect instruments of grace, they could neither { } be seduced by carnal pleasure nor awed by human might. taught that they were kings by the election of god and priests by the imposition of his hands, they despised the puny and vicious monarchs of this earth. they remained, in fact, what they always felt themselves to be, an elite, "the chosen few." having finished his great work, calvin set out on his wanderings again. for a time he was at the court of the sympathetic renée de france, duchess of ferrara. when persecution broke out here, he again fled northward, and came, by chance, to geneva. [sidenote: geneva] here farel was waging an unequal fight with the old church. needing calvin's help he went to him and begged his assistance, calling on god to curse him should he not stay. "struck with terror," as calvin himself confessed, he consented to do so. beautifully situated on the blue waters of lake leman in full view of mont blanc, geneva was at this time a town of , inhabitants, a center of trade, pleasure, and piety. the citizens had certain liberties, but were under the rule of a bishop. as this personage was usually elected from the house of the duke of savoy, geneva had become little better than a dependency of that state. the first years of the sixteenth century had been turbulent. the bishop, john, had at one time been forced to abdicate his authority, but later had tried to resume it. the archbishop of vienne, geneva's metropolitan, had then excommunicated the city and invited duke charles iii of savoy to punish it. the citizens rose under bonivard, renounced the authority of the pope, expelled the bishop and broke up the religious houses. to guard against the vengeance of the duke, a league was made with berne and freiburg. on october , , william farel arrived from berne. at geneva as elsewhere tumult followed his { } preaching, but it met with such success that by january, , he held a disputation which decided the city to become evangelical. the council examined the shrines [sidenote: ] and found machinery for the production of bogus miracles; provisionally abolished the mass; [sidenote: may , ] and soon after formally renounced the papal religion. at this point calvin arrived, and began preaching and organizing at once. he soon aroused opposition from the citizens, galled at his strictness and perhaps jealous of a foreigner. [sidenote: calvin expelled, february ] the elections to the council went against him, and the opposition came to a head shortly afterwards. the town council decided to adopt the method of celebrating the eucharist used at rome. for some petty reason calvin and farel refused to obey, and when a riot broke out at the lord's table, the council expelled them from the city. calvin went to strassburg, where he learned to know bucer and republished his _institutes_. here he married idelette de bure, the widow of an anabaptist, [sidenote: august, ] who was never in strong health and died, probably of consumption, on march , . calvin's married life lacked tenderness and joy. the story that he selected his wife because he thought that by reason of her want of beauty she would not distract his thoughts from god, is not well founded, but it does illustrate his attitude towards her. the one or more children born of the union died in infancy. calvin attended the colloquy at ratisbon, [sidenote: ] in the result of which he was deeply disappointed. in the meantime he had not lost all interest in geneva. when cardinal sadoleto wrote, in the most polished latin, an appeal to the city to return to the roman communion, calvin answered it. [sidenote: september , ] the party opposed to him discredited itself by giving up the city's rights to berne, and, was therefore overthrown. the perplexities presenting themselves to the council were { } beyond their powers to solve, and they felt obliged to recall calvin, [sidenote: calvin returns, ] who returned to remain for the rest of his life. [sidenote: theocracy] his position was so strong that he was able to make of geneva a city after his own heart. the form of government he caused to prevail was a strict theocracy. the clergy of the city met in a body known as the congregation, a "venerable company" that discussed and prepared legislation for the consideration of the consistory. in this larger body, besides the clergy, the laity were represented by twelve elders chosen by the council, not by the people at large. the state and church were thus completely identified in a highly aristocratic polity. "the office of the consistory is to keep watch on the life of every one." thus briefly was expressed the delegation of as complete powers over the private lives of citizens as ever have been granted to a committee. the object of the ecclesiastical ordinances was to create a society of saints. the bible was adopted as the norm; all its provisions being enforced except such jewish ceremonies as were considered abrogated by the new testament. the city was divided into quarters, and some of the elders visited every house at least once a year and passed in review the whole life, actions, speech, and opinions of the inmates. the houses of the citizens were made of glass; and the vigilant eye of the consistory, served by a multitude of spies, was on them all the time. in a way this espionage but took the place of the catholic confessional. a joke, a gesture was enough to bring a man under suspicion. the elders sat as a regular court, hearing complaints and examining witnesses. it is true that they could inflict only spiritual punishments, such as public censure, penance, excommunication, or forcing the culprit to demand pardon in church on his knees. but when { } the consistory thought necessary, it could invoke the aid of the civil courts and the judgment was seldom doubtful. among the capital crimes were adultery, blasphemy, witchcraft, and heresy. punishments for all offences were astonishingly and increasingly heavy. during the years - there were, in this little town of , people, no less than fifty-eight executions and seventy-six banishments. in judging the genevan theocracy it is important to remember that everywhere, in the sixteenth century, punishments were heavier than they are now, and the regulation of private life minuter.[ ] nevertheless, though parallels to almost everything done at geneva can be found elsewhere, it is true that calvin intensified the medieval spirit in this respect and pushed it to the farthest limit that human nature would bear. first of all, he compelled the citizens to fulfil their religious duties. he began the process by which later the puritans identified the jewish sabbath and the lord's day. luther had thought the injunction to rest on the seventh day a bit of jewish ceremonial abrogated by the new dispensation and that, after attending church, the christian might devote the day to what work or pleasure he thought proper. calvin, however, forbade all work and commanded attendance on sermons, of which an abundance were offered to the devout. in addition to sunday services there were, as in the catholic church, morning prayers every work day and a second service three days a week. all ceremonies with a vestige of popery about them were forbidden. [sidenote: ] the keeping of christmas was prohibited under pain of fine and imprisonment. "as i see that we cannot forbid men all diversions," sighed calvin, "i confine myself to those that are really bad." this class was sufficiently large. the { } theater was denounced from the pulpit, especially when the new italian habit of giving women's parts to actresses instead of to boys was introduced. according to calvin's colleague cop, "the women who mount the platform to play comedies are full of unbridled effrontery, without honor, having no purpose but to expose their bodies, clothes, and ornaments to excite the impure desires of the spectators. . . . the whole thing," he added, "is very contrary to the modesty of women who ought to be shamefaced and shy." accordingly, attendance on plays was forbidden. [sidenote: supervision of conduct] among other prohibited amusements was dancing, especially obnoxious as at that time dances were accompanied by kisses and embraces. playing cards, cursing and swearing were also dealt with, as indeed they were elsewhere. among the odd matters that came before the consistory were: attempted suicide, possessing the _golden legend_ (a collection of saints' lives called by beza "abominable trash"), paying for masses, betrothing a daughter to a catholic, fasting on good friday, singing obscene songs, and drunkenness. a woman was chastized for taking too much wine even though it did not intoxicate. some husbands were mildly reprimanded, not for beating their wives which was tolerated by contemporary opinion, but for rubbing salt and vinegar into the wales. luxury in clothing was suppressed; all matters of color and quality regulated by law, and even the way in which women did their hair. in the inns were put under the direct control of the government and strictly limited to the functions of entertaining--or rather of boarding and lodging--strangers and citizens in temporary need of them. among the numerous rules enforced within them the following may be selected as typical: [sidenote: rules for inns] if any one blasphemes the name of god or says, "by { } the body, 'sblood, zounds" or anything like, or who gives himself to the devil or uses similar execrable imprecations, he shall be punished. . . . if any one insults any one else the host shall be obliged to deliver him up to justice. if there are any persons who make it their business to frequent the said inns, and there to consume their goods and substance, the host shall not receive them. item the host shall be obliged to report to the government any insolent or dissolute acts committed by the guests. item the host shall not allow any person of whatever quality he be, to drink or eat anything in his house without first having asked a blessing and afterwards said grace. item the host shall be obliged to keep in a public place a french bible, in which any one who wishes may read, and he shall not prevent free and honest conversation on the word of god, to edification, but shall favor it as much as he can. item the host shall not allow any dissoluteness like dancing, dice or cards, nor shall he receive any one suspected of being a debauche or ruffian. item he shall only allow people to play honest games without swearing or blasphemy, and without wasting more time than that allowed for a meal. item he shall not allow indecent songs or words, and if any one wishes to sing psalms or spiritual songs he shall make them do it in a decent and not in a dissolute way. item nobody shall be allowed to sit up after nine o'clock at night except spies. of course, such matters as marriage were regulated strictly. when a man of seventy married a girl of twenty-five calvin said it was the pastor's duty to reprehend them. the reformer often selected the women he thought suitable for his acquaintances who wanted wives. he also drew up a list of baptismal names which he thought objectionable, including the names of "idols,"--_i.e._ saints venerated near geneva--the names of kings and offices to whom god alone { } appoints, such as angel or baptist, names belonging to god such as jesus and emanuel, silly names such as toussaint and noel, double names and ill-sounding names. calvin also pronounced on the best sort of stoves and got servants for his friends. in fact, there was never such a busy-body in a position of high authority before nor since. no wonder that the citizens frequently chafed under the yoke. if we ask how much was actually accomplished by this minute regulation accompanied by extreme severity in the enforcement of morals, various answers are given. when the italian reformer bernardino occhino visited geneva in , he testified that cursing and swearing, unchastity and sacrilege were unknown; that there were neither lawsuits nor simony nor murder nor party spirit, but that universal benevolence prevailed. again in john knox said that geneva was "the most perfect school of christ that ever was on earth since the days of the apostles. in other places," he continued, "i confess christ to be truly preached, but manners and religion so sincerely reformed i have not yet seen in any place besides." but if we turn from these personal impressions to an examination of the acts of the consistory, we get a very different impression. [sidenote: morals of geneva] the records of geneva show more cases of vice after the reformation than before. the continually increasing severity of the penalties enacted against vice and frivolity seem to prove that the government was helpless to suppress them. among those convicted of adultery were two of calvin's own female relatives, his brother's wife and his step-daughter judith. what success there was in making geneva a city of saints was due to the fact that it gradually became a very select population. the worst of the incorrigibles were soon either executed or banished, and their places taken by a large influx of { } men of austere mind, drawn thither as a refuge from persecution elsewhere, or by the desire to sit at the feet of the great reformer. between the years and no less than strangers were admitted to citizenship. practically all of these were immigrants coming to the little town for conscience's sake. [persecution] orthodoxy was enforced as rigidly as morality. the ecclesiastical constitution adopted in brought in the puritan type of divine service. preaching took the most important place in church, supplemented by bible reading and catechetical instruction. laws were passed enforcing conformity under pain of losing goods and life. those who did not expressly renounce the mass were punished. a little girl of thirteen was condemned to be publicly beaten with rods for saying that she wanted to be a catholic. calvin identified his own wishes and dignity with the commands and honor of god. one day he forbade a citizen, philibert berthelier, to come to the lord's table. berthelier protested and was supported by the council. "if god lets satan crush my ministry under such tyranny," shrieked calvin, "it is all over with me." the slightest assertion of liberty on the part of another was stamped out as a crime. sebastian castellio, a sincere christian and protestant, but more liberal than calvin, fell under suspicion because he called the song of songs obscene, and because he made a new french version of the bible to replace the one of olivetan officially approved. he was banished in . two years later peter ameaux made some very trifling personal remarks about calvin, for which he was forced to fall on his knees in public and ask pardon. but opposition only increased. the party opposing calvin he called the libertines--a word then meaning something like "free-thinker" and gradually getting { } the bad moral connotation it has now, just as the word "miscreant" had formerly done. [sidenote: january, ] one of these men, james cruet, posted on the pulpit of st. peter's church at geneva a warning to calvin, in no very civil terms, to leave the city. he was at once arrested and a house to house search made for his accomplices. this method failing to reveal anything except that gruet had written on one of calvin's tracts the words "all rubbish," his judges put him to the rack twice a day, morning and evening, for a whole month. the frightful torture failed to make gruet incriminate anyone else, and he was accordingly tried for heresy. he was charged with "disparaging authors like moses, who by the spirit of god wrote the divine law, saying that moses had no more power than any other man. . . . he also said that all laws, human and divine, were made at the pleasure of man." he was therefore sentenced to death for blasphemy and beheaded on july , , "calling on god as his lord." after his death one of his books was found and condemned. to justify this course calvin alleged that gruet said that jesus christ was a good-for-nothing, a liar, and a false seducer, and that he (gruet) denied the existence of god and immortality. evangelical freedom had now arrived at the point whore its champions first took a man's life and then his character, merely for writing a lampoon! naturally such tyranny produced a reaction. the enraged libertines nicknamed calvin cain, and saved from his hands the next personal enemy, ami perrin, whom he caused to be tried for treason. [sidenote: october , ] a still more bitter dose for the theocrat was that administered by jerome bolsec, who had the audacity to preach against the doctrine of predestination. calvin and farel refuted him on the spot and had him arrested. berne, basle and zurich intervened and, when solicited for { } an expression on the doctrine in dispute, spoke indecisively. the triumph of his enemies at this rebuke was hard for calvin to bear and prepared for the commission of the most regrettable act of his career. [sidenote: servetus, ] the spanish physician michael servetus published, in germany, a work on the _errors concerning the trinity_. his theory was not that of a modern rationalist, but of one whose starting point was the authority of the bible, and his unitarianism was consequently of a decidedly theological brand, recalling similar doctrines in the early church. leaving germany he went to vienne, [sidenote: ] in france, and got a good practice under an assumed name. he later published a work called, perhaps in imitation of calvin's _institutio, the restitution of christianity_, setting forth his ideas about the trinity, which he compared to the three-headed monster cerberus, but admitting the divinity of christ. he also denied the doctrine of original sin and asserted that baptism should be for adults only. he was poorly advised in sending this book to the reformer, with whom he had some correspondence. with calvin's knowledge and probably at his instigation, though he later issued an equivocating denial, william trie, of geneva, denounced servetus to the catholic inquisition at vienne and forwarded the material sent by the heretic to calvin. on june , , the catholic inquisitor, expressly stating that he acted on this material, condemned servetus to be burnt by slow fire, but he escaped and went to geneva. here he was recognized and arrested. calvin at once appeared as his prosecutor for heresy. the charges against him were chiefly concerned with his denial of the trinity and of infant baptism, and with his attack on the person and teaching of calvin. as an example of the point to which bibliolatry could suppress candor it may be mentioned that one of the { } charges against him was that he had asserted palestine to be a poor land. this was held to contradict the scriptural statement that it was a land flowing with milk and honey. the minutes of the trial are painful reading. it was conducted on both sides with unbecoming violence. among other expressions used by calvin, the public prosecutor, were these: that he regarded servetus's defence as no better than the braying of an ass, and that the prisoner was like a villainous cur wiping his muzzle. servetus answered in the same tone, his spirit unbroken by abuse and by his confinement in a horrible dungeon, where he suffered from hunger, cold, vermin, and disease. he was found guilty of heresy and sentenced to be burnt with slow fire. calvin said that he tried to alter the manner of execution, but there is not a shred of evidence, in the minutes of the trial or elsewhere, that he did so. possibly, if he made the request, it was purely formal, as were similar petitions for mercy made by the roman inquisitors. at any rate, while calvin's alleged effort for mercy proved fruitless, he visited his victim in prison to read him a self-righteous and insulting lecture. farel, also, reviled him on the way to the stake, at which he perished on october , , [sidenote: death of servetus] crying, "god preserve my soul! o jesus, son of the eternal god, have mercy on me!" farel called on the bystanders to witness that these words showed the dying man to be still in the power of satan. this act of persecution, one of the most painful in the history of christianity, was received with an outburst of applause from almost all quarters. melanchthon, who had not been on speaking terms with calvin for some years, was reconciled to him by what he called "a signal act of piety." other leading protestants congratulated calvin, who continued persecution systematically. another victim of his was matthew { } gribaldi, whom he delivered into the hands of the government of berne, with a refutation of his errors. [sidenote: .] had he not died of the plague in prison he would probably have suffered the same fate as servetus. [sidenote: complete theocracy, ] strengthened by his victory over heresy, calvin now had the chance to annihilate his opponents. on may , , he accused a number of them of treason, and provided proof by ample use of the rack. with the party of libertines completely broken, calvin ruled from this time forth with a rod of iron. the new geneva was so cowed and subservient that the town council dared not install a new sort of heating apparatus without asking the permission of the theocrat. but a deep rancor smouldered under the surface. "our incomparable theologian calvin," wrote ambrose blaurer to bullinger, "labors under such hatred of some whom he obscures by his light that he is considered the worst of heretics by them." among other things he was accused of levying tribute from his followers by a species of blackmail, threatening publicly to denounce them unless they gave money to the cause. [sidenote: international calvinism] at the same time his international power and reputation rose. geneva became the capital of protestantism, from which mandates issued to all the countries of western europe. englishmen and frenchmen, dutchmen and italians, thronged to "this most perfect school of christ since the apostles" to learn the laws of a new type of christianity. for calvin's reformation was more thorough and logical than was luther's. the german had regarded all as permitted that was not forbidden, and allowed the old usages to stand in so far as they were not repugnant to the ordinances of the bible. but calvin believed that all was forbidden save what was expressly allowed, and hence abolished as superstitious accretions all the elements of the medieval cult that could find no warrant in the { } bible. images, vestments, organs, bells, candles, ritual, were swept away in the ungarnished meeting-house to make way for a simple service of bible-reading, prayer, hymn and sermon. the government of the church was left by calvin in close connection with the state, but he apparently turned around the lutheran conception, making the civil authority subordinate to the spiritual and not the church to the state. whereas lutheranism appealed to germans and scandinavians, calvinism became the international form of protestantism. even in germany calvin made conquests at the expense of luther, but outside of germany, in france, in the netherlands, in britain, he moulded the type of reformed thought in his own image. it is difficult to give statistics, for it is impossible to say how far each particular church, like the anglican for example, was indebted to calvin, how far to luther, and how far to other leaders, and also because there was a strong reaction against pure calvinism even in the sixteenth century. but it is safe to say that the clear, cold logic of the _institutes_, the good french and latin of countless other treatises and letters, and the political thought which amalgamated easily with rising tides of democracy and industrialism, made calvin the leader of protestantism outside of the teutonic countries of the north. his gift for organization and the pains he took to train ministers and apostles contributed to this success. [sidenote: death of calvin, may , ] on may , calvin died, worn out with labor and ill health at the age of fifty-five. with a cold heart and a hot temper, he had a clear brain, an iron will, and a real moral earnestness derived from the conviction that he was a chosen vessel of christ. constantly tortured by a variety of painful diseases, he drove himself, by the demoniac strength of his will, to perform labor that would have taxed the strongest. { } the way he ruled his poor, suffering body is symbolic of the way he treated the sick world. to him the maladies of his own body, or of the body politic, were evils to be overcome, at any cost of pain and sweat and blood, by a direct effort of the will. as he never yielded to fever and weakness in himself, so he dealt with the vice and frivolity he detested, crushing it out by a ruthless application of power, hunting it with spies, stretching it on the rack and breaking it on the wheel. but a gentler, more understanding method would have accomplished more, even for his own purpose. [sidenote: beza, - ] his successor at geneva, theodore beza, was a man after his own heart but, as he was far weaker, the town council gradually freed itself from spiritual tyranny. towards the end of the century the pastors had been humbled and the questions of the day were far less the dogmatic niceties they loved than ethical ones such as the right to take usury, the proper penalty for adultery, the right to make war, and the best form of government. [ ] "decretum dei aeternum horribile." [ ] see below. chapter x, section . { } chapter iv france section . renaissance and reformation [sidenote: france] though, at the opening of the sixteenth century, the french may have attained to no greater degree of national self-consciousness than had the germans, they had gone much farther in the construction of a national state. the significance of this evolution, one of the strongest tendencies of modern history, is that it squares the outward political condition of the people with their inward desires. when once a nation has come to feel itself such, it cannot be happy until its polity is united in a homogeneous state, though the reverse is also true,--that national feeling is sometimes the result as well as the cause of political union. with the growth of a common language and of common ideals, and with the improvement of the methods of communication, the desire of the people for unity became stronger and stronger, until it finally overcame the centrifugal forces of feudalism and of particularism. these were so strong in germany that only a very imperfect federation could be formed by way of national government, but in france, though they were still far from moribund, external pressure and the growth of the royal power had forged the various provinces into a nation such as it exists today. the most independent of the old provinces, brittany, was now united to the crown by the marriage of its duchess anne to louis xii. [sidenote: louis xii, - ] { } anne ==_louis xii_ charles, count==louise duchess of | _ - _ of angoulême | of savoy brittany | | | | | | | | +---------+-------------+ | | | | renée==hercules ii, claude==( )_francis i_ margaret==( )charles, duke of | _ - _ duke of ferrara | ( )==eleanor, alençon | sister of ==( )henry ii, | emperor | king of | charles v | navarre | | _henry ii_==catharine de' | _ - _ | medici d. joan ==anthony | d'albret| of | | bourbon | | duke of | | vendôme +--------+------+------+----+-+----------------+ | | | | | | | | _francis ii_, | _henry iii_ | elizabeth ( )margaret==_henry iv_, _ - _ | _ - _ | ==( )philip ii ( )mary de' - ==mary, queen | | king of spain medici of scots | | | | _charles ix_ francis, duke _ - _ of alençon and anjou, d. [transcriber's note: "d." has been used here as a substitute for the "dagger" symbol (unicode u+ ) that signifies the person's year of death.] geographically, france was nearly the same four hundred years ago as it is today, save that the eastern { } frontier was somewhat farther west. the line then ran west of the three bishoprics, verdun, metz and toul, west of franche comté, just east of lyons and again west of savoy and nice. politically, france was then one of a group of semi-popular, semi-autocratic monarchies. the rights of the people were asserted by the states general which met from time to time, usually at much longer intervals than the german diets or the english parliaments, and by the parlements of the various provinces. these latter were rather high courts of justice than legislative assemblies, but their right to register new laws gave them a considerable amount of authority. the parlement of paris was the most conspicuous and perhaps the most powerful. [sidenote: concordat, ] the power of the monarch, resting primarily on the support of the bourgeois class, was greatly augmented by the concordat of , which made the monarch almost the supreme head of the gallican church. for two centuries the crown had been struggling to attain this position. it was because so large a degree of autonomy was granted to the national church that the french felt satisfied not to go to the extreme of secession from the roman communion. it was because the king had already achieved a large control over his own clergy that he felt it unnecessary or inadvisable to go to the lengths of the lutheran princes and of henry viii. in that one important respect the concordat of bologna took the place of the reformation. [sidenote: francis i, - ] francis i was popular and at first not unattractive. robust, fond of display, ambitious, intelligent enough to dabble in letters and art, he piqued himself on being chivalrous and brave. but he wasted his life and ruined his health in the pursuit of pleasure. his face, as it has come down to us in contemporary paintings, is disagreeable. he was, as with unusual candor a { } contemporary observer put it, a devil even to the extent of considerably looking it. while to art and letters francis gave a certain amount of attention, he usually from mere indolence allowed the affairs of state to be guided by others. until the death of his mother, louise of savoy, [sidenote: ] he was ruled by her. thereafter the constable anne de montmorency was his chief minister. the policy followed was the inherited one which was, to a certain point, necessary in the given conditions. in domestic affairs, the king or his advisors endeavored to increase the power of the crown at the expense of the nobles. the last of the great vassals strong enough to assert a quasi-independence of the king was charles of bourbon. [sidenote: - ] he was arrested and tried by the parlement of paris, which consistently supported the crown. fleeing from france he entered the service of charles v, [sidenote: ] and his restoration was made an article of the treaty of madrid. his death in the sack of rome closed the incident in favor of the king. [sidenote: may, ] the foreign policy of france was a constant struggle, now by diplomacy, now by arms, with charles v. the principal remaining powers of europe, england, turkey and the pope, threw their weight now on one side now on the other of the two chief antagonists. italy was the field of most of the battles. francis began his reign by invading that country and defeating the swiss at marignano, thus conquering milan. [sidenote: september - , ] the campaigns in italy and southern france culminated in the disastrous defeat of the french at pavia. [sidenote: february , ] francis fought in person and was taken prisoner. "of all things nothing is left me but honor and life," he wrote his mother. francis hoped that he would be freed on the payment of ransom according to the best models of chivalry. he found, however, when he was removed to { } madrid in may, that his captor intended to exact the last farthing of diplomatic concession. discontent in france and the ennui and illness of the king finally forced him to sign a most disadvantageous treaty, [sidenote: january , ] renouncing the lands of burgundy, naples and milan, and ceding lands to henry viii. the king swore to the document, pledged his knightly honor, and as additional securities married eleanor the sister of charles and left two of his sons as hostages. even when he signed it, however, he had no intention of executing the provisions of the treaty which, he secretly protested, had been wrung from him by force. the deputies of burgundy refused to recognize the right of france to alienate them. henry viii at once made an alliance against the "tyranny and pride" of the emperor. charles was so chagrined that he challenged francis to a duel. this opera bouffe performance ended by each monarch giving the other "the lie in the throat." though france succeeded in making with new allies, the pope and venice, the league of cognac, [sidenote: may, ] and though germany was at that time embarrassed by the turkish invasion, the ensuing war turned out favorably to the emperor. the ascendancy of charles was so marked that peace again had to be made in his favor in . the treaty of cambrai, as it was called, was the treaty of madrid over again except that burgundy was kept by france. she gave up, however, lille, douai and other territory in the north and renounced her suzerainty over milan and naples. francis agreed to pay a ransom of two million crowns for his sons. though he was put to desperate straits to raise the money, levying a per cent. income tax on the clergy and a per cent. income tax on the nobles, he finally paid the money and got back his children in . by this time france was so exhausted, both in { } money and men, that a policy of peace was the only one possible for some years. montmorency, the principal minister of the king, continued by an active diplomacy to stir up trouble for charles. while suppressing lutherans at home he encouraged the schmalkaldic princes abroad, going to the length of inviting melanchthon to france in . with the english minister cromwell he came to an agreement, notwithstanding the protestant tendencies of his policy. an alliance was also made with the sultan suleiman, secretly in , and openly proclaimed in . in order to prepare for the military strife destined to be renewed at the earliest practical moment, an ordinance of reorganized and strengthened the army. far more important for the life of france than her incessant and inconclusive squabbling with spain was the transformation passing over her spirit. it is sometimes said that if the french kings brought nothing else back from their campaigns in italy they brought back the renaissance. [sidenote: reformation] there is a modicum of truth in this, for there are some traces of italian influence before the reign of francis i. but the french spirit hardly needed this outside stimulus. it was awakening of itself. scholars like william budé and the estiennes, thinkers like dolet and rabelais, poets like marot, were the natural product of french soil. everywhere, north of the alps no less than south, there was a spontaneous efflorescence of intellectual activity. the reformation is often contrasted or compared with the renaissance. in certain respects, where a common factor can be found, this may profitably be done. but it is important to note how different in kind were the two movements. one might as well compare darwinism and socialism in our own time. the one was a new way of looking at things, a fresh { } intellectual start, without definite program or organization. the other was primarily a thesis: a set of tenets the object of which was concrete action. the reformation began in france as a school of thought, but it soon grew to a political party and a new church, and finally it evolved into a state within the state. [sidenote: christian renaissance] though it is not safe to date the french reformation before the influence of luther was felt, it is possible to see an indigenous reform that naturally prepared the way for it. its harbinger was lefèvre d'Étaples. this "little luther" wished to purify the church, to set aside the "good works" thereof in favor of faith, and to make the bible known to the people. he began to translate it in , publishing the gospels in june and the epistles and acts and apocalypse in october and november. the work was not as good as that of luther or tyndale. it was based chiefly on the vulgate, though not without reference to the greek text. lefèvre prided himself on being literal, remarking, with a side glance at erasmus's _paraphrases_, that it was dangerous to try to be more elegant than scripture. he also prided himself on writing for the simple, and was immensely pleased with the favorable reception the people gave his work. to reach the hearts of the poor and humble he instituted a reform of preaching, instructing his friends to purge their homilies of the more grossly superstitious elements and of the scholastic theology. instead of this they were to preach christ simply with the aim of touching the heart, not of dazzling the mind. like-minded men gathering around lefèvre formed a new school of thought. it was a movement of revival within the church; its leaders, wishing to keep all the old forms and beliefs, endeavored to infuse into them a new spirit. to some extent they were in conscious reaction against the intellectualism of erasmus { } and the renaissance. on the other hand they were far from wishing to follow luther, when he appeared, in his schism. among the most famous of these mystical reformers were william briçonnet, bishop of meaux, and his disciple, margaret d'angoulême, sister of francis i. though a highly talented woman margaret was weak and suggestible. she adored her dissolute brother and was always, on account of her marriages, first with charles, duke of alençon, [sidenote: ] and then with henry d'albret, king of navarre, [sidenote: ] put in the position of a suppliant for his support. she carried on an assiduous correspondence with briçonnet as her spiritual director, being attracted first by him and then by luther, chiefly, as it seems, through the wish to sample the novelty of their doctrines. she wrote _the mirror of the sinful soul_ in the best style of penitent piety. [sidenote: ] its central idea is the love of god and of the "debonnaire" jesus. she knew latin and italian, studied greek and hebrew, and read the bible regularly, exhorting her friends to do the same. she coquetted with the lutherans, some of whom she protected in france and with others of whom in germany she corresponded. she was strongly suspected of being a lutheran, though a secret one. capito dedicated to her a commentary on hosea; calvin had strong hopes of winning her to an open profession, but was disappointed. her house, said he, which might have become the family of jesus christ, harbored instead servants of the devil. throughout life she kept the accustomed catholic rites, and wrote with much respect to pope paul iii. but fundamentally her religious idealism was outside of any confession. this mystically pious woman wrote, in later life, the _heptameron_, a book of stories published posthumously. modelled on the _decameron_, it consists { } almost entirely of licentious stories, told without reprobation and with gusto. if the mouth speaketh from the fullness of the heart she was as much a sensualist in thought as her brother was in deed. the apparent contradictions in her are only to be explained on the theory that she was one of those impressionable natures that, chameleon-like, always take on the hue of their environment. but though the work of lefèvre and of briçonnet, who himself gave his clergy an example of simple, biblical preaching, won many followers not only in meaux but in other cities, it would never have produced a religious revolt like that in germany. the reformation was an importation into france; "the key of heresy," as john bouchet said in , "was made of the fine iron of germany." at first almost all the intellectuals hailed luther as an ally. lefèvre sent him a greeting in , and in the same year budé spoke well of him. his books were at this time approved even by some doctors of the sorbonne. but it took a decade of confusion and negation to clarify the situation sufficiently for the french to realize the exact import of the lutheran movement, which completely transformed the previously existing policy of lefèvre. the chief sufferer by the growth of lutheranism was not at first the catholic church but the party of catholic reform. the schism rent the french evangelicals before it seriously affected the church. some of them followed the new light and others were forced back into a reactionary attitude. [sidenote: luther's books.] the first emissaries of luther in france were his books. froben exported a volume containing nearly all he had published up to october, , immediately and in large quantities to paris. in a student there wrote that no books were more quickly bought. at first only the latin ones were intelligible to the { } french, but there is reason to believe that very early translations into the vernacular were made, though none of this period have survived. it was said that the books, which kept pouring in from frankfort and strassburg and basle, excited the populace against the theologians, for the people judged them by the newly published french new testament. a bishop complained that the common people were seduced by the vivacity of the heretic's style. [sidenote: ] it did not take the sorbonne long to define its position as one of hostility. the university, which had been lately defending the gallican liberties and had issued an appeal from pope to future council, was one of the judges selected by the disputants of the leipzig debate. complete records of the speeches, taken by notaries, were accordingly forwarded to paris by duke george of saxony, with a request for an opinion. after brief debate the condemnation of luther by the university was printed. [sidenote: april , ] neither was the government long in taking a position. that it should be hostile was a foregone conclusion. francis hated lutheranism because he believed that it tended more to the overthrow of kingdoms and monarchies than to the edification of souls. he told aleander, the papal nuncio, that he thought luther a rascal and his doctrine pernicious. [sidenote: march, ] [sidenote: april ] the king was energetically seconded by the parlement of paris. a royal edict provided that no book should be printed without the imprimatur of the university. the king next ordered the extirpation of the errors of martin luther of saxony, and, having begun by burning books, continued, as erasmus observed was usually the case, by burning people. the first to suffer was john vallière. at the same time briçonnet was summoned to paris, [sidenote: ] sharply reprimanded for leniency to heretics and fined two hundred livres, in { } consequence of which he issued two decrees against the heresy, charging it with attempting to subvert the hierarchy and to abolish sacerdotal celibacy. [sidenote: ] when lefèvre's doctrines were condemned, he submitted; those of his disciples who failed to do so were proscribed. but the efforts of the government became more strenuous after . francis was at this time courting the assistance of the pope against the emperor, and moreover he was horrified by the outbreak of the peasants' war in germany. convinced of the danger of allowing the new sect to propagate itself any further he commanded the archbishops and bishops of his realm to "proceed against those who hold, publish and follow the heresies, errors and doctrines of martin luther." [sidenote: ] lefèvre and some of his friends fled to strassburg. arrests and executions against those who were sometimes called "heretics of meaux," and sometimes lutherans, followed. the theologians did not leave the whole burden of the battle to the government. a swarm of anti-lutheran tracts issued from the press. not only the heresiarch, but erasmus and lefèvre were attacked. their translations of the bible were condemned as blasphemies against jerome and against the holy ghost and as subverting the foundations of the christian religion. luther's sacramental dogmas and his repudiation of monastic vows were refuted. nevertheless the reform movement continued. at this stage it was urban, the chief centers being paris, meaux, and lyons. many merchants and artisans were found among the adherents of the new faith. while none of a higher rank openly professed it, theology became, under the lead of margaret, a fashionable subject. conventicles were formed to read the bible in secret not only among the middle classes but also at court. short tracts continued to be the best { } methods of propaganda, and of these many were translations. louis de berquin of artois, [sidenote: berquin, - ] a layman, proved the most formidable champion of the new opinions. though he did little but translate other men's work he did that with genius. his version of erasmus's _manual of a christian knight_ was exquisitely done, and his version of luther's _tesseradecas_ did not fall short of it. tried and condemned in , he was saved by the king at the behest of margaret. [sidenote: ] the access of rigor during the king's captivity gave place to a momentary tolerance. berquin, who had been arrested, was liberated, and lefèvre recalled from exile. but the respite was brief. two years later, berquin was again arrested, tried, condemned, and executed speedily to prevent reprieve on april , . but the triumph of the conservatives was more apparent than real. lutheranism continued to gain silently but surely. while the reformation was growing in strength and numbers, it was also becoming more definite and coherent. prior to it was almost impossible to tell where lutheranism began and where it ended. there was a large, but vague and chaotic public opinion of protest against the existing order. but after it is possible to distinguish several parties, three of which at first reckoned among the supporters of the reformation, now more or less definitely separated themselves from it. the first of these was the party of meaux, the leaders of which submitted to the government and went their own isolated way. then there was a party of erasmian reform, mainly intellectual but profoundly christian. its leader, william budé, felt, as did erasmus, that it was possible to unite the classical culture of the renaissance with a purified catholicism. attached to the church, and equally repelled by some of the dogmas and by the apparent { } social effects of the reformation, budé, who had spoken well of luther in , repudiated him in . [sidenote: humanists] finally there was the party of the "libertines" or free-thinkers, the representatives of the renaissance pure and simple. revolutionaries in their own way, consciously rebels against the older culture of the middle ages, though prepared to canvass the new religion and to toy with it, even to use it as an ally against common enemies, the interest of these men was fundamentally too different from that of the reformers to enable them to stand long on the same platform. there was clement marot, [sidenote: marot] a charming but rather aimless poet, a protégé of margaret and the ornament of a frivolous court. though his poetic translation of the psalms became a protestant book, his poetry is often sensual as well as sensuous. though for a time absenting himself from court he re-entered it in at the same time "abjuring his errors." [sidenote: rabelais] of the same group was francis rabelais, whose _pantagruel_ appeared in . though he wrote erasmus saying that he owed all that he was to him, he in fact appropriated only the irony and mocking spirit of the humanist without his deep underlying piety. he became a universal skeptic, and a mocker of all things. the "esprit gaulois," beyond all others alive to the absurdities and inconsistency of things, found in him its incarnation. he ridiculed both the "pope-maniacs" and the "pope-phobes," the indulgence-sellers and the inquisitors, the decretals "written by an angel" and the great schism, priests and kings and doubting philosophers and the scripture. paul iii called him "the vagabond of the age." calvin at first reckoned him among those who "had relished the gospel," but when he furiously retorted that he considered calvin "a demoniacal imposter," the theologian of geneva loosed against him a furious invective in his { } _treatise on offences_. rabelais was now called "a lucian who by his diabolic fatuity had profaned the gospel, that holy and sacred pledge of life eternal." william farel had in mind rabelais's recent acceptance from the court of the livings of meudon and st. christophe de jambet, when he wrote calvin on may , : "i fear that avarice, that root of evil, has extinguished all faith and piety in the poets of margaret. judas, having sold christ and taken the biretta, instead of christ has that hard master satan." [ ] [sidenote: catholic reform] the stimulus given by the various attacks on the church, both protestant and infidel, showed itself promptly in the abundant spirit of reform that sprang up in the catholic fold. the clergy and bishop braced themselves to meet the enemy; they tried in some instances to suppress scandals and amend their lives; they brushed up their theology and paid more attention to the bible and to education. but the "lutheran contagion" continued to spread and grow mightily. in it was found only at paris, meaux, lyons, grenoble, bourges, tours and alençon. fifteen years later, though it was still confined largely to the cities and towns, there were centers of it in every part of france except in brittany. the persecution at paris only drove the heretics into hiding or banished them to carry their opinions broadcast over the land. the movement swept from the north and east. the propaganda was not the work of one class but of all save that of the great nobles. it was not yet a social or class affair, but a purely intellectual and religious one. it is impossible to { } estimate the numbers of the new sect. in aleander said there were thirty thousand lutherans in paris alone. on the contrary rené du bellay said that there were fewer in than there were ten years, previous. [sidenote: protestant progress] true it is that the protestants were as yet weak, and were united rather in protest against the established order than as a definite and cohesive party. thus, the most popular and successful slogans of the innovators were denunciation of the priests as anti-christs and apostates, and reprobation of images and of the mass as idolatry. other catchwords of the reformers were, "the bible" and "justification by faith." the movement was without a head and without organization. until calvin furnished these the principal inspiration came from luther, but zwingli and the other german and swiss reformers were influential. more and more, lefèvre and his school sank into the background. for a time it seemed that the need of leadership was to be supplied by william farel. his learning, his eloquence, and his zeal, together with the perfect safety of action that he found in switzerland, were the necessary qualifications. the need for a bible was at first met by the version of lefèvre, printed in . but the catholic spirit of this work, based on the vulgate, was distasteful to the evangelicals. farel asked olivetan, an excellent philologist, to make a new version, which was completed by february . calvin wrote the preface for it. it was dedicated to "the poor little church of god." in doctrine it was thoroughly evangelical, replacing the old "évêques" and "prêtres" by "surveillants" and "anciens," and omitting some of the apocrypha. encouraged by their own growth the protestants became bolder in their attacks on the catholics. the situation verged more and more towards violence; { } neither side, not even the weaker, thought of tolerance for both. on the night of october - some placards, written by anthony de marcourt, were posted up in paris, orleans, rouen, tours and blois and on the doors of the king's chamber at amboise. they excoriated the sacrifice of the mass as a horrible and intolerable abuse invented by infernal theology and directly counter to the true supper of our lord. the government was alarmed and took strong steps. processions were instituted to appease god for the sacrilege. within a month two hundred persons were arrested, twenty of whom were sent to the scaffold and the rest banished after confiscation of their goods. but the government could not afford to continue an uninterruptedly rigorous policy. the protestants found their opportunity in the exigencies of the foreign situation. in francis was forced by the increasing menace of the hapsburgs to make alliance not only with the infidel but with the schmalkaldic league. he would have had no scruples in supporting abroad the heresy he suppressed at home, but he found the german princes would accept his friendship on no terms save those of tolerance to french protestants. accordingly on july , , francis was obliged to publish an edict ordering persecution to cease and liberating those who were in prison for conscience's sake. but the respite did not last long. new rigors were undertaken in april . marot retracted his errors, and rabelais, while not fundamentally changing his doctrine, greatly softened, in the second edition of his _pantagruel_, [sidenote: ] the abusive ridicule he had poured on the sorbonne. but by this time a new era was inaugurated. the deaths of erasmus and lefèvre in gave the _coup de grace_ to the party of the christian { } renaissance, and the publication of calvin's _institutes_ in the same year finally gave the french protestants a much needed leader and standard. [ ] _harvard theological review_, , p. . margaret had died several years before, but rabelais was called her poet because he had claimed her protection and to her wrote a poem in . _oeuvres de rabelais_, ed. a. lefranc, , i, pp. xxiii, cxxxix. _cf_. also calvin's letter to the queen of navarre, april , . _opera_, xii, pp. f. section . the calvinist party. - [sidenote: truce of nice, ] the truce of nice providing for a cessation of hostilities between france and the hapsburgs for ten years, was greeted with much joy in france. bonfires celebrated it in paris, and in every way the people made known their longing for peace. little the king cared for the wishes of his loyal subjects when his own dignity, real or imagined, was at stake. the war with charles, that cursed europe like an intermittent fever, broke out again in . again france was the aggressor and again she was worsted. the emperor invaded champagne in person, arriving, in , at a point within fifty miles of paris. as there was no army able to oppose him it looked as if he would march as a conqueror to the capital of his enemy. but he sacrificed the advantage he had over france to a desire far nearer his heart, that of crushing his rebellious protestant subjects. already planning war with the league of schmalkalden he wished only to secure his own safety from attack by his great rival. [sidenote: treaty of crépy, ] the treaty made at crépy was moderate in its terms and left things largely as they were. [sidenote: henry ii, - ] on march , , francis i died and was succeeded by his son, henry ii, a man of large, strong frame, passionately fond of all forms of exercise, especially of hunting and jousting. he had neither his father's versatility nor his fickleness nor his artistic interests. his policy was influenced by the aim of reversing his father's wishes and of disgracing his father's favorites. [sidenote: ] while his elder brother was still alive, henry had married catharine de' medici, a daughter of lorenzo { } ii de' medici of florence. the girl of fourteen in a foreign country was uncomfortable, especially as it was felt, after her husband became dauphin, that her rank was not equal to his. the failure to have any children during the first ten years of marriage made her position not only unpleasant but precarious, but the birth of her first son made her unassailable. in rapid succession she bore ten children, seven of whom survived childhood. though she had little influence on affairs of state during her husband's reign, she acquired self-confidence and at last began to talk and act as queen. [sidenote: diana of poitiers] at the age of seventeen henry fell in love with a woman of thirty-six, diana de poitiers, to whom his devotion never wavered until his death, when she was sixty. notwithstanding her absolute ascendancy over her lover she meddled little with affairs of state. [sidenote: admiral coligny, - ] the direction of french policy at this time fell largely into the hands of two powerful families. the first was that of coligny. of three brothers the ablest was gaspard, admiral of france, a firm friend of henry's as well as a statesman and warrior. still more powerful was the family of guise, the children of claude, duke of guise, who died in . [sidenote: francis of guise] the eldest son, francis, duke of guise, was a great soldier. his brother, charles, cardinal of lorraine, won a high place in the councils of state, and his sister mary, by her marriage with james v of scotland, brought added prestige to the family. the great power wielded by this house owed much to the position of their estates, part of which were fiefs of the french king and part subject to the empire. as suited their convenience they could act either as frenchmen or as foreign nobles. [sidenote: expansion] under henry france enjoyed a period of expansion such as she had not had for many years. the { } perpetual failures of francis were at last turned into substantial successes. this was due in large part to the civil war in germany and to the weakness of england's rulers, edward vi and mary. it was due in part to the irrepressible energy of the french bourgeois and gentlemen, in part to the genius of francis of guise. the co-operation of france and turkey, rather an identity of interests than a formal alliance, a policy equally blamed by contemporaries and praised by historians, continued. but the successes achieved were due most of all to the definite abandonment of the hope of italian conquests and to the turning of french arms to regions more suitable for incorporation under her government. war having been declared on charles, the french seized the three bishoprics, at that time imperial fiefs, metz, verdun, and toul. a large german army under alva besieged metz, but failed to overcome the brilliant defence of francis of guise. worn by the attrition of repulsed assaults and of disease the imperial army melted away. when the siege was finally raised guise distinguished himself as much by the humanity with which he cared for wounded and sick enemies as he had by his military prowess. six years later guise added fresh laurels to his fame and new possessions to france by the conquest of calais and guines, the last english possessions in french territory. the loss of calais, which had been held by england since the hundred years war, was an especially bitter blow to the islanders. these victories were partly counterbalanced by the defeats of french armies at st. quentin on the somme [sidenote: ] and by egmont at gravelines. [sidenote: ] when peace was signed at cateau-cambrésis, [sidenote: peace of cateau-cambrésis, ] france renounced all her conquests in the south, but kept the three bishoprics and calais, all of which became her permanent possessions. [sidenote: calvinism] { } while france was thus expanding her borders, the internal revolution matured rapidly. the last years of francis and the reign of henry ii saw a prodigious growth of protestantism. what had begun as a sect now became, by an evolution similar to that experienced in germany, a powerful political party. it is the general fate of new causes to meet at first with opposition due to habit and the instinctive reaction of almost all minds against "the pain of a new idea." but if the cause is one suited to the spirit and needs of the age, it gains more and more supporters, slowly if left to itself, rapidly if given good organization and adequate means of presenting its claims. the thorough canvassing of an idea is absolutely essential to win it a following. now, prior to , the protestants had got a considerable amount of publicity as well through their own writings as through the attacks of their enemies. but not until calvin settled at geneva and began to write extensively in french, was the cause presented in a form capable of appealing to the average frenchman. calvin gave not only the best apology for his cause, but also furnished it with a definite organization, and a coherent program. he supplied the dogma, the liturgy, and the moral ideas of the new religion, and he also created ecclesiastical, political, and social institutions in harmony with it. a born leader, he followed up his work with personal appeals. his vast correspondence with french protestants shows not only much zeal but infinite pains and considerable tact in driving home the lessons of his printed treatises. though the appeal of calvin's dogmatic system was greater to an age interested in such things and trained to regard them as highly important, than we are likely to suppose at present, this was not calvinism's only or even its main attraction to intelligent people. like { } every new and genuine reform calvinism had the advantage of arousing the enthusiasm of a small but active band of liberals. the religious zeal as well as the moral earnestness of the age was naturally drawn to the protestant side. as the sect was persecuted, no one joined it save from conscientious motives. against the laziness or the corruption of the prelates, too proud or too indifferent to give a reason for their faith, the innovators opposed a tireless energy in season and out of season; against the scandals of the court and the immorality of the clergy they raised the banner of a new and stern morality; to the fires of martyrdom they replied with the fires of burning faith. the missionaries of the calvinists were very largely drawn from converted members of the clergy, both secular and regular, and from those who had made a profession of teaching. for the purposes of propaganda these were precisely the classes most fitted by training and habit to arouse and instruct the people. tracts were multiplied, and they enjoyed, notwithstanding the censures of the sorbonne, a brisk circulation. the theater was also made a means of propaganda, and an effective one. picardy continued to be the stronghold of the protestants throughout this period, though they were also strong at meaux and throughout the north-east, at orleans, in normandy, and in dauphiné. great progress was also made in the south, which later became the most protestant of all the sections of france. [sidenote: catholic measures] catholics continued to rely on force. there was a counter-propaganda, emanating from the university of paris, but it was feeble. the jesuits, in the reign of henry ii, had one college at paris and two in auvergne; otherwise there was hardly any intellectual effort made to overcome the reformers. indeed, the catholics hardly had the munitions for such a combat. { } apart from the great independents, holding themselves aloof from all religious controversy, the more intelligent and enterprising portion of the educated class had gone over to the enemy. but the government did its best to supply the want of argument by the exercise of authority. new and severe edicts against "the heresies and false doctrines of luther and his adherents and accomplices" were issued. the sorbonne prohibited the reading and sale of sixty-five books by name, including the works of luther, melanchthon, calvin, dolet, and marot, and all translations of the bible issued by the publishing house of estienne. the south of france had in earlier centuries been prolific in sects claiming a protestantism older than that of augsburg. like the bohemian brethren they eagerly welcomed the calvinists as allies and were rapidly enrolled in the new church. startled by the stirring of the spirit of reform, the parlement of aix, acting in imitation of simon de monfort, [sidenote: ] ordered two towns, merindol and cabrières, destroyed for their heresy. the sentence was too drastic for the french government to sanction immediately; it was therefore postponed by command of the king, but it was finally executed, at least in part. [sidenote: ] a ghastly massacre took place in which eight hundred or more of the waldenses perished. a cry of horror was raised in germany, in switzerland, and even in france, from which the king himself recoiled in terror. only a few days after his accession henry issued an edict against blasphemy, and this was followed by a number of laws against heresy. a new court of justice was created to deal with heretics. [sidenote: october , ] from its habit of sending its victims to the stake it soon became known as the chambre ardente. its powers were so extensive that the clergy protested against them as { } infringements of their rights. in its first two years it pronounced five hundred sentences,--and what sentences! even in that cruel age its punishments were frightful. burning alive was the commonest. if the heretic recanted on the scaffold he was strangled before the fire was lit; if he refused to recant his tongue was cut out. [sidenote: june, ] those who were merely suspected were cast into dungeons from which many never came out alive. torture was habitually used to extract confession. for those who recanted before sentence milder, but still severe, punishments were meted out: imprisonment and various sorts of penance. by the edict of chateaubriand a code of forty-six articles against heresy was drawn up, and the magistrate empowered to put suspected persons under surveillance. in the face of this fiery persecution the conduct of the calvinists was wonderfully fine. they showed great adroitness in evading the law by all means save recantation and great astuteness in using what poor legal means of defence were at their disposal. on the other hand they suffered punishment with splendid constancy and courage, very few failing in the hour of trial, and most meeting death in a state of exaltation. large numbers found refuge in other lands. during the reign of henry ii fourteen hundred fled to geneva, not to mention the many who settled in the netherlands, england, and germany. [sidenote: protestant growth] far from lying passive, the calvinists took the offensive not only by writing and preaching but by attacking the images of the saints. many of these were broken or defaced. one student in the university of paris smashed the images of the virgin and st. sebastian and a stained glass window representing the crucifixion, and posted up placards attacking the cult of the saints. for this he was pilloried three times and then shut into a small hole walled in on all sides { } save for an aperture through which food was passed him until he died. undaunted by persecution the innovators continued to grow mightily in numbers and strength. the church at paris, though necessarily meeting in secret, was well organized. the people of the city assembled together in several conventicles in private houses. by there were forty fully organized churches (_églises dressées_) throughout france, and no less than conventicles or mission churches (_églises plantées_). estimates of numbers are precarious, but good reason has been advanced to show that early in the reign of henry the protestants amounted to one-sixth of the population. like all enthusiastic minorities they wielded a power out of proportion to their numbers. increasing continually, as they did, it is probable, but for the hostility of the government, they would have been a match for the catholics. at any rate they were eager to try their strength. a new and important fact was that they no longer consisted entirely of the middle classes. high officers of government and great nobles began to join their ranks. in the bishop of nîmes protected them openly, being himself suspected, probably with justice, of calvinism. in a lieutenant-general was among those prosecuted for heresy. anthony of bourbon, a descendant of louis ix, a son of the famous charles, constable of france, and husband of joan d 'albret, queen of navarre, who was a daughter of margaret d'angoulême, became a protestant. [sidenote: ] about the same time the great admiral coligny was converted, though it was some years before he openly professed his faith. his brother, d'andelot, also adhered to the calvinists but was later persuaded by the king and by his wife to go back to the catholic fold. so strong had the protestants become that the { } french government was compelled against its will to tolerate them in fact if not in principle, and to recognize them as a party in the state with a quasi-constitutional position. the synod held at paris in may, , was evidence that the first stage in the evolution of french protestantism was complete. this assembly drew up a creed called the _confessio gallicana_, setting forth in forty articles the purest doctrine of geneva. besides affirming belief in the common articles of christianity, this confession asserted the dogmas of predestination, justification by faith only, and the distinctive calvinistic doctrine of the eucharist. the worship of saints was condemned and the necessity of a church defined. for this church an organization and discipline modelled on that of geneva was provided. the country was divided into districts, the churches within which were to send to a central consistory representatives both clerical and lay, the latter to be at least equal in number to the former. over the church of the whole nation there was to be a national synod or "colloque" to which each consistory was to send one clergyman and one or two lay elders. alarmed by the growth of the protestants, henry ii was just preparing, after the treaty of cateau-cambrésis, to grapple with them more earnestly than ever, when he died of a wound accidentally received in a tournament. [sidenote: july , ] his death, hailed by calvin as a merciful dispensation of providence, conveniently marks the ending of one epoch and the beginning of another. for the previous forty years france had been absorbed in the struggle with the vast empire of the hapsburgs. for the next forty years she was completely occupied with the wars of religion. externally, she played a weak rôle because of civil strife and of a contemptible government. indeed, all her interests, both foreign and domestic, were from this { } time forgotten in the intensity of the passions aroused by fanaticism. the date of henry's demise also marks a change in the evolution of the french government. hitherto, for some centuries, the trend had been away from feudalism to absolute monarchy. the ideal, "une foi, une loi, un roi" had been nearly attained. but this was now checked in two ways. the great nobles found in calvinism an opportunity to assert their privileges against the king. the middle classes in the cities, especially in those regions where sectionalism was still strong, found the same opportunity but turned it to the advantage of republicanism. a fierce spirit of resistance not only to the prelates but to the monarch, was born. there was even a considerable amount of democratic sentiment. the poor clergy, who had become converted to calvinism, were especially free in denouncing the inequalities of the old régime which made of the higher clergy great lords and left the humbler ministers to starve. the fact is that the message of calvinism was essentially democratic in that the excellence of all christians and their perfect equality before god was preached. [sidenote: equality preached] interest in religion and the ability to discuss it was not confined to a privileged hierarchy, but was shared by the humblest. in a ribald play written in it is said:[ ] if faut que jeanne [a servant] entre les pots parle de reformation; la nouvelle religion a tant fait que les chambrières, les serviteurs et les tripières en disputent publiquement. but while the gay courtier and worldling sneered at the religion of market women and scullerymaids, he had little cause to scoff when he met the protestants { } in debate at the town hall of his city, or on the field of battle. finally, the year very well marks a stage in the development of french protestantism. until about it had been a mere unorganized opinion, rather a philosophy than a coherent body. from the date of the publication of the _institutes_ to that of the synod of the new church had become organized, self-conscious, and definitely political in aims. but after it became more than a party; it became an _imperium in imperio_. there was no longer one government and one allegiance in france but two, and the two were at war. [sidenote: the huguenots] it was just at this time that the name of huguenot applied to the protestants, hitherto called "lutherans," "heretics of meaux" and, more rarely, "calvinists." the origin of the word, first used at tours in , is uncertain. it may possibly come from "le roi huguet" or "hugon," a night spectre; the allusion then would be to the ghostly manner in which the heretics crept by night to their conventicles. huguenot is also found as a family name at belfort as early as . it may possibly come from the term "hausgenossen" as used in alsace of those metal-workers who were not taken into the gild but worked at home, hence a name of contempt like the modern "scab." it may also come from the name of the swiss confederation, "eidgenossen," and perhaps this derivation is the most likely, though it cannot be considered beyond doubt. whatever the origin of the name the picture of the huguenot is familiar to us. of all the fine types of french manhood, that of the huguenot is one of the finest. gallic gaiety is tempered with earnestness; intrepidity is strengthened with a new moral fibre like that of steel. except in the case of a few great lords, who joined the party without serious conviction, the high standard of the huguenot morals was recognized even by their enemies. in an age of profligacy the "men of the religion," as they called themselves, walked the paths of rectitude and sobriety. [ ] remy belleau: _la reconnue_, act , scene . { } charles, duke of bourbon, constable of france, d. | | +-------------------------+-----+------------------+ | | | anthony, duke of vendôme charles, cardinal louis, prince ==joan d'albret, queen of of bourbon of condé | navarre, d. | | _henry iv_ _ - _ ==( )margaret of france ==( )mary de' medici ______________________________________________________________________ claude, duke of guise, d. | | +------------------------+--+------------+ | | | | | | francis, duke of guise charles, cardinal mary==james v d. of lorraine | of scotland | | | mary, queen | of scots | +-----------------------+--------------------+ | | | henry, duke of guise charles, duke of louis, cardinal of d. mayenne guise, d. [transcriber's note: "d." has been used here as a substitute for the "dagger" symbol (unicode u+ ) that signifies the person's year of death.] { } section . the wars of religion. - [sidenote: francis ii, - ] henry ii was followed by three of his sons in succession, each of them, in different degrees and ways, a weakling. the first of them was francis ii, a delicate lad of fifteen, who suffered from adenoids. child as he was he had already been married for more than a year to mary stuart, a daughter of james v of scotland and a niece of francis of guise and the cardinal of lorraine. as she was the one passion of the morose and feeble king, who, being legally of age was able to choose his own ministers, the government of the realm fell into the strong hands of "the false brood of lorraine." fearing and hating these men above all others the huguenots turned to the bourbons for protection, but the king of navarre was too weak a character to afford them much help. finding in the press their best weapon the protestants produced a flood of pamphlets attacking the cardinal of lorraine as "the tiger of france." a more definite plan to rid the country of the hated tyranny was that known as the conspiracy of amboise. godfrey de barry, sieur de la renaudie, pledged several hundred protestants to go in a body to present a petition to the king at blois. how much further their intentions went is not known, and perhaps was not definitely formulated by themselves. the venetian ambassador spoke in a contemporary dispatch of a plot to kill the cardinal and also the king if he would not assent to their counsels, and said that the conspirators relied, to justify this course, on the { } declaration of calvin that it was lawful to slay those who hindered the preaching of the gospel. hearing of the conspiracy, guise and his brother were ready. they transferred the court from blois to amboise, by which move they upset the plans of the petitioners and also put the king into a more defensible castle. soldiers, assembled for the occasion, met the huguenots as they advanced in a body towards amboise, [sidenote: the tumult of amboise, march ] shot down la renaudie and some others on the spot and arrested the remaining twelve hundred, to be kept for subsequent trial and execution. the suspicion that fastened on the prince of condé, a brother of the king of navarre, was given some color by his frank avowal of sympathy with the conspirators. though the guises pressed their advantage to the utmost in forbidding all future assemblies of heretics, the tumult of amboise was vaguely felt, in the sultry atmosphere of pent-up passions, to be the avant-courier of a terrific storm. the early death of the sickly king left the throne to his brother charles ix, a boy of nine. [sidenote: charles ix, - ] as he was a minor, the regency fell to his mother, catharine de' medici, who for almost thirty years was the real ruler of france. [sidenote: policy of catharine de' medici] notwithstanding what brantôme calls "ung embonpoint très-riche," she was active of body and mind. her large correspondence partly reveals the secrets of her power: much tact and infinite pains to keep in touch with as many people and as many details of business as possible. her want of beauty was supplied by gracious manners and an elegant taste in art. as a connoisseur and an indefatigable collector she gratified her love of the magnificent not only by beautiful palaces and gorgeous clothes, but in having a store of pictures, statues, tapestries, furniture, porcelain, silver, books, and manuscripts. a "politique" to her fingertips, catharine had neither sympathy nor patience with the fanatics who { } would put their religion above peace and prosperity. surrounded by men as fierce as lions, she showed no little of the skill and intrepidity of the tamer in keeping them, for a time, from each others' throats. soon after charles ascended the throne, she was almost hustled into domestic and foreign war by the offer of philip ii of spain to help her catholic subjects against the huguenots without her leave. she knew if that were done that, as she scrawled in her own peculiar french, "le roy mon fils nave jeames lantyere aubeysance," [ ] and she was determined "que personne ne pent nous brouller en lamitie en la quele je desire que set deus royaumes demeurent pendant mauye." [ ] through her goggle eyes she saw clearly where lay the path that she must follow. "i am resolved," she wrote, "to seek by all possible means to preserve the authority of the king my son in all things, and at the same time to keep the people in peace, unity and concord, without giving them occasion to stir or to change anything." fundamentally, this was the same policy as that of henry iv. that she failed where he succeeded is not due entirely to the difference in ability. in neither party was prepared to yield or to tolerate the other without a trial of strength, whereas a generation later many members of both parties were sick of war. [sidenote: december , ] just as francis was dying, the states general met at orleans. this body was divided into three houses, or estates, that of the clergy, that of the nobles, and that of the commons. the latter was so democratically chosen that even the peasants voted. whether they had voted in is not known, but it is certain that they did so in , and that it was in the interests of the crown to let them vote is shown by the increase in { } the number of royal officers among the deputies of the third estate. the peasants still regarded the king as their natural protector against the oppression of the nobles. the estates were opened by catharine's minister, michael de l'hôpital. fully sympathizing with her policy of conciliation, he addressed the estates as follows: [sidenote: february , ] "let us abandon those diabolic words, names of parties, factions and seditions:--lutherans, huguenots, papists; let us not change the name of christians." accordingly, an edict was passed granting an amnesty to the huguenots, nominally for the purpose of allowing them to return to the catholic church, but practically interpreted without reference to this proviso. but the government found it easier to pass edicts than to restrain the zealots of both parties. the protestants continued to smash images; the catholics to mob the protestants. paris became, in the words of beza, "the city most bloody and murderous among all in the world." under the combined effects of legal toleration and mob persecution the huguenots grew mightily in numbers and power. their natural leader, the king of navarre, indeed failed them, for he changed his faith several times, his real cult, as calvin remarked, being that of venus. his wife, joan d'albret, however, became an ardent calvinist. at this point the government proposed a means of conciliation that had been tried by charles v in germany and had there failed. the leading theologians of both confessions were summoned to a colloquy at poissy. [sidenote: colloquy of poissy, august, ] most of the german divines invited were prevented by politics from coming, but the noted italian protestant peter martyr vermigli and theodore beza of geneva were present. the debate turned on the usual points at issue, and was of course indecisive, { } though the huguenots did not hesitate to proclaim their own victory. [sidenote: january, ] a fresh edict of toleration had hardly been issued when civil war was precipitated by a horrible crime. some armed retainers of the duke of guise, coming upon a huguenot congregation at vassy in champagne, [sidenote: massacre of vassy, march , ] attacked them and murdered three hundred. a wild cry of fury rose from all the calvinists; throughout the whole land there were riots. at toulouse, for example, fighting in the streets lasted four days and four hundred persons perished. it was one of the worst years in the history of france. a veritable reign of terror prevailed everywhere, and while the crops were destroyed famine stalked throughout the land. bands of robbers and ravishers, under the names of christian parties but savages at heart, put the whole people to ransom and to sack. indeed, the wars of religion were like hell; the tongue can describe them better than the imagination can conceive them. the whole sweet and pleasant land of france, from the burgundian to the spanish frontier, was widowed and desolated, her pride humbled by her own sons and her golden lilies trampled in the bloody mire. foreign levy was called in to supply strength to fratricidal arms. the protestants, headed by condé and coligny, raised an army and started negotiations with england. the catholics, however, had the best of the fighting. they captured rouen, defended by english troops, and, under guise, defeated the huguenots under coligny at dreux. [sidenote: december , ] [sidenote: february , ] two months later, francis of guise was assassinated by a protestant near orleans. coligny was accused of inciting the crime, which he denied, though he confessed that he was glad of it. [sidenote: edict of amboise march , ] the immediate beneficiary of the death of the duke was not the huguenot, { } however, so much as catharine de' medici. continuing to put into practise her policy of tolerance she issued an edict granting liberty of conscience to all and liberty of worship under certain restrictions. great nobles were allowed to hold meetings for divine service according to the reformed manner in their own houses, and one village in each bailiwick was allowed to have a protestant chapel. how consistently secular was catharine's policy became apparent at this time when she refused to publish the decrees of the council of trent, fearing that they might infringe on the liberties of the gallican church. in this she had the full support of most french catholics. she continued to work for religious peace. one of her methods was characteristic of her and of the time. she selected "a flying squadron" of twenty-four beautiful maids of honor of high rank and low principles to help her seduce the refractory nobles on both sides. in many cases she was successful. condé, in love with one--or possibly with several--of these sirens, forgot everything else, his wife, his party, his religion. his death in threw the leadership of the huguenots into the steadier and stronger grasp of coligny. but such means of dealing with a profoundly dangerous crisis were of course but the most wretched palliatives. the catholic bigots would permit no dallying with the heretics. in they were strong enough to secure the disgrace of l'hôpital and in the following year to extort a royal edict unconditionally forbidding the exercise of the reformed cult. the huguenots again rebelled and in suffered two severe defeats [sidenote: huguenots defeated] at jarnac and at moncontour. the catholics were jubilant, fully believing, as sully says, that at last the protestants would have to submit. but nothing is more remarkable than the apparently slight effect of military success or failure on the { } strength and numbers of the two faiths. "we had beaten our enemies over and over again," cried the catholic soldier montluc in a rage, "we were winning by force of arms but they triumphed by means of their diabolical writings." the huguenots, however, did not rely entirely on the pen. their stronghold was no longer in the north but was now in the south and west. the reason for this may be partly found in the preparation of the soil for their seed by the medieval heresies, but still more in the strong particularistic spirit of that region. the ancient provinces of poitou and guienne, gascony and languedoc, were almost as conscious of their southern and provençal culture as they were of their french citizenship. the strength of the centralizing tendencies lay north of the loire; in the south local privileges were more esteemed and more insisted upon. while protestantism was persecuted by the government at paris it was often protected by cities of the south. [sidenote: la rochelle] the most noteworthy of these was la rochelle on the atlantic coast near bordeaux. though coming late to the support of the reformation, its conversion was thorough and lasting. to protect the new religion it successfully asserted its municipal freedom almost to the point of independence. like the dutch beggars of the sea its armed privateers preyed upon the commerce of catholic powers, a mode of warfare from which the city derived immense booty. the huguenots tried but failed to get foreign allies. neither england nor germany sent them any help. [sidenote: battle of mons, july , ] their policy of supporting the revolt of the low countries against spain turned out disastrously for themselves when the french under coligny were defeated at mons by the troops of philip. the catholics now believed the time ripe for a decisive blow. under the stimulus of the jesuits they { } had for a short time been conducting an offensive and effective propaganda. leagues were formed to combat the organizations of the huguenots, armed "brotherhoods of the holy spirit" as they were called. the chief obstacle in their path seemed to be a small group of powerful nobles headed by coligny. catharine and the guises resolved to cut away this obstacle with the assassin's knife. charles, who was personally on good terms with coligny, hesitated, but he was too weak a youth to hold out long. there seems to be good reason to believe that all the queen dowager and her advisers contemplated was the murder of a few leaders and that they did not foresee one of the most extensive massacres in history. her first attempt to have coligny assassinated [sidenote: august , ] aroused the anger of the huguenot leaders and made them more dangerous than before. a better laid and more comprehensive plan was therefore carried out on the eve of st. bartholomew's day. [sidenote: massacre of st. bartholomew, august , to october ] early in the evening of august , henry of guise, a son of duke francis, and coligny's bitterest personal enemy, went with armed men to the house of the admiral and murdered him. from thence they proceeded to the houses of other prominent huguenots to slay them in the same manner. news of the man-hunt spread through the city with instant rapidity, the mob rose and massacred all the huguenots they could find as well as a number of foreigners, principally germans and flemings. de thou says that two thousand were slain in paris before noon of august . a general pillage followed. the king hesitated to assume responsibility for so serious a tumult. his letters of august to various governors of provinces and to ambassadors spoke only of a fray between guise and coligny, and stated that he wished to preserve order. but with these very { } letters he sent messengers to all quarters with verbal orders to kill all the leading protestants. on august he again wrote of it as "a great and lamentable sedition" originating in the desire of guise to revenge his father on coligny. the king said that the fury of the populace was such that he was unable to bring the remedy he wished, and he again issued directions for the preservation of order. but at the same time he declared that the guises had acted at his command to punish those who had conspired against him and against the old religion. in fact, he gave out a rapid series of contradictory accounts and orders, and in the meantime, from august to october terrible series of massacres took place in almost all the provinces. [sidenote: other massacres] two hundred huguenots perished at meaux, from to at orleans, a much larger number at lyons. it is difficult to estimate the total number of victims. sully, who narrowly escaped, says that , were slain. hotman, another contemporary, says , . knowing how much figures are apt to be exaggerated even by judicious men, we must assume that this number is too large. on the other hand the lowest estimate given by modern catholic investigators, , is certainly too small. probably between , and , is correct. those who fell were the flower of the party. whatever may have been the precise degree of guilt of the french rulers, which in any case was very grave, they took no pains to conceal their exultation over an event that had at last, as they believed, ground their enemies to powder. in jubilant tone catharine wrote to her son-in-law, philip of spain, that god had given her son the king of france the means "of wiping out those of his subjects who were rebellious to god and to himself." philip sent his hearty congratulations and heard a te deum sung. the pope struck a medal { } with a picture of an avenging angel and the legend, "ugonotorum strages," and ordered an annual te deum which was, in fact, celebrated for a long time. but on the other hand a cry of horror arose from germany and england. elizabeth received the french ambassador dressed in mourning and declared to him that "the deed had been too bloody." though the triumph of the catholics was loudly shouted, it was not as complete as they hoped. the huguenots seemed cowed for a moment, but nothing is more remarkable than the constancy of the people. recantations were extremely few. the reformed pastors, nourished on the old testament, saw in the affliction that had befallen them nothing but the means of proving the faithful. preparations for resistance were made at once in the principal cities of the south. [sidenote: siege of la rochelle] la rochelle, besieged by the royal troops, evinced a heroism worthy of the cause. while the men repulsed the furious assaults of the enemy the women built up the walls that crumbled under the powerful fire of the artillery. a faction of citizens who demanded surrender was sternly suppressed and the city held out until relief came from an unhoped quarter. the king's brother, henry duke of anjou, was elected to the throne of poland on condition that he would allow liberty of conscience to polish protestants. in order to appear consistent the french government therefore stopped for the moment the persecution of the huguenots. the siege of la rochelle was abandoned and a treaty made allowing liberty of worship in that city, in nîmes and montauban and in the houses of some of the great nobles. in less than two years after the appalling massacre the protestants were again strong and active. a chant of victory sounded from their dauntless ranks. more than ever before they became republican in principle. { } their pamphleteers, among them hotman, fiercely attacked the government of catharine, and asserted their rights. charles was a consumptive. the hemorrhages characteristic of his disease reminded him of the torrents of blood that he had caused to flow from his country. broken in body and haunted by superstitious terrors the wretched man died on may , . [sidenote: henry iii, - ] he was succeeded by his brother, henry iii, recently elected king of poland, a man of good parts, interested in culture and in study, a natural orator, not destitute of intelligence. his mother's pet and spoiled child, brought up among the girls of the "flying squadron," he was in a continual state of nervous and sensual titillation that made him avid of excitement and yet unable to endure it. a thunderstorm drove him to hide in the cellar and to tears. he was at times overcome by fear of death and hell, and at times had crises of religious fervour. but his life was a perpetual debauch, ever seeking new forms of pleasure in strange ways. he would walk the streets at night accompanied by gay young rufflers in search of adventures. he had a passion for some handsome young men, commonly called "the darlings," whom he kept about him dressed as women. his reign meant a new lease of power to his mother, who worshipped him and to whom he willingly left the arduous business of government. by this time she was bitterly hated by the huguenots, who paid their compliments to her in a pamphlet entitled _a wonderful discourse on the life, deeds and debauchery of catharine de' medici_, perhaps written in part by the scholar henry estienne. she was accused not only of crimes of which she was really guilty, like the massacre of st. bartholomew, but of having murdered { } the dauphin francis, her husband's elder brother, and others who had died natural deaths, and of having systematically depraved her children in order to keep the reins of authority in her own hands. frightened by the odium in which his mother was held, henry iii thought it wise to disavow all part or lot in st. bartholomew and to concede to the huguenots liberty of worship everywhere save in paris and in whatever place the court might be for the moment. so difficult was the position of the king that by this attempt to conciliate his enemies he only alienated his friends. the bigoted catholics, finding the crown impotent, began to take energetic measures to help themselves. in they formed a league to secure the benefit of association. [sidenote: the league] henry duke of guise drew up the declaration that formed the constituent act of the league. it proposed "to establish the law of god in its entirety, to reinstate and maintain divine service according to the form and manner of the holy, catholic and apostolic church," and also "to restore to the provinces and estates of this kingdom the rights, privileges, franchises, and ancient liberties such as they were in the time of king clovis, the first christian king." this last clause is highly significant as showing how the catholics had now adopted the tactics of the huguenots in appealing from the central government to the provincial privileges. it is exactly the same issue as that of federalism versus states' rights in american history; the party in power emphasizes the national authority, while the smaller divisions furnish a refuge for the minority. the constituency of the league rapidly became large. the declaration of guise was circulated throughout the country something like a monster petition, and those who wished bound themselves to support it. the { } power of this association of catholics among nobles and people soon made it so formidable that henry iii reversed his former policy, recognized the league and declared himself its head. [sidenote: estates general of blois] the elections for the states general held at blois in proved highly favorable to the league. the chief reason for their overwhelming success was the abstention of the protestants from voting. in continental europe it has always been and is now common for minorities to refuse to vote, the idea being that this refusal is in itself a protest more effective than a definite minority vote would be. to an american this seems strange, for it has been proved time and again that a strong minority can do a great deal to shape legislation. but the huguenots reasoned differently, and so seated but one protestant in the whole assembly, a deputy to the second, or noble, estate. the privileged orders pronounced immediately for the enforcement of religious unity, but in the third estate there was a warm debate. john bodin, the famous publicist, though a catholic, pleaded hard for tolerance. as finally passed, the law demanded a return to the old religion, but added the proviso that the means taken should be "gentle and pacific and without war." so impossible was this in practice that the government was again obliged to issue a decree granting liberty of conscience and restricted liberty of worship. [sidenote: ] under the oppression of the ruinous civil wars the people began to grow more and more restless. the king was extremely unpopular. perhaps the people might have winked even at such outrages against decency as were perpetrated by the king had not their critical faculties been sharpened by the growing misery of their condition. the wars had bankrupted both them and the government, and the desperate expedients of the latter to raise money only increased the poverty { } of the masses. every estate, every province, was urged to contribute as much as possible, and most of them replied, in humble and loyal tone, but firmly, begging for relief from the ruinous exactions. the sale of offices, of justice, of collectorships of taxes, of the administration, of the army, of the public domain, was only less onerous than the sale of monopolies and inspectorships of markets and ports. the only prosperous class seemed to be the government agents and contractors. in fact, for the first time in the history of france the people were becoming thoroughly disaffected and some of them semi-republican in feeling. [sidenote: ] the king had no sons and when his only remaining brother died a new element of discord and perplexity was introduced in that the heir to the throne, henry of navarre, was a protestant. violent attacks on him were published in the pamphlet press. the league was revived in stronger form than before. its head, guise, selected as candidate for the throne the uncle of henry of navarre, charles, cardinal of bourbon, a stupid and violent man of sixty-four. the king hastened to make terms with the league and commanded all protestants to leave the country in six months. at this point the pope intervened to strengthen his cause by issuing the "bull of deprivation" [sidenote: ] declaring henry of navarre incapable, as a heretic, of succeeding to the throne. navarre at once denounced the bull as contrary to french law and invalid, and he was supported both by the parlement of paris and by some able pamphleteers. hotman published his attack on the "vain and blind fulmination" of the pontiff. [sidenote: battle of coutras, october , ] an appeal to arms was inevitable. at the battle of coutras, the huguenots, led by henry of navarre, won their first victory. while this increased { } navarre's power and his popularity with his followers, the majority of the people rallied to the league. in the "war of the three henrys" as it was called, the king had more to fear from henry of guise than from the huguenot. cooped up at the tuileries the monarch was under so irksome a restraint that he was finally obliged to regain freedom by flight, on may , . the elections for the states general gave an enormous majority to the league. in an evil hour for himself the king resorted again to that much used weapon, assassination. by his order guise was murdered. "now i am king," he wrote with a sigh of relief. but he was mistaken. the league, more hostile than ever, swearing to avenge the death of its captain, was now frankly revolutionary. it continued to exercise its authority under the leadership of a committee of sixteen. these gentlemen purged the still royalist parlement of paris. by the hostility of the league the king was forced to an alliance with henry of navarre. this is interesting as showing how completely the position of the two leading parties had become reversed. the throne, once the strongest ally of the church, was now supported chiefly by the huguenots who had formerly been in rebellion. indeed by this time "the wars of religion" had become to a very large extent dynastic and social. on august , , the king was assassinated by a dominican fanatic. his death was preceded shortly by that of catharine de' medici. [sidenote: henry iv, - ] henry iv was a man of thirty-five, of middle stature, but very hardy and brave. he was one of the most intelligent of the french kings, vigorous of brain as of body. few could resist his delicate compliments and the promises he knew how to lavish. the glamour of his personality has survived even until now. in a song still popular he is called "the gallant king who knew { } how to fight, to make love and to drink." he is also remembered for his wish that every peasant might have a fowl in his pot. his supreme desire was to see france, bleeding and impoverished by civil war, again united, strong and happy. he consistently subordinated religion to political ends. to him almost alone is due the final adoption of tolerance, not indeed as a natural right, but as a political expedient. the difficulties with which he had to contend were enormous. the catholics, headed by the duke of mayenne, a brother of guise, agreed to recognize him for six months in order that he might have the opportunity of becoming reconciled to the church. but mayenne, who wished to be elected king by the states general, soon commenced hostilities. the skirmish at arques between the forces of henry and mayenne, resulting favorably to the former, was followed by the battle of ivry. [sidenote: battle of ivry, march , ] henry, with two thousand horse and eight thousand foot, against eight thousand horse and twelve thousand foot of the league, addressed his soldiers in a stirring oration: "god is with us. behold his enemies and ours; behold your king. charge! if your standards fail you, rally to my white plume; you will find it on the road to victory and honor." at first the fortune of war went against the huguenots, but the personal courage of the king, who, with "a terrible white plume" in his helmet led his cavalry to the attack, wrested victory from the foe. [sidenote: siege of paris] from ivry henry marched to paris, the headquarters of the league. with thirteen thousand soldiers he besieged this town of , inhabitants, garrisoned by fifty thousand troops. with their usual self-sacrificing devotion, the people of paris held out against the horrors of famine. the clergy aroused the fanaticism of the populace, promising heaven to those who died; women protested that they would eat { } their children before they would surrender. with provisions for one month, paris held out for four. dogs, cats, rats, and grass were eaten; the bones of animals and even of dead people were ground up and used for flour; the skins of animals were devoured. thirteen thousand persons died of hunger and twenty thousand of the fever brought on by lack of food. but even this miracle of fanaticism could not have saved the capital eventually, but for the timely invasion of france from the north by the duke of parma, who joined mayenne on the marne. henry raised the siege to meet the new menace, but the campaign of was fruitless for both sides. [sidenote: anarchy] france seemed to be in a state of anarchy under the operation of many and various forces. pope gregory xiv tried to influence the catholics to unite against henry, but he was met by protests from the parlements in the name of the gallican liberties. the "politiques" were ready to support any strong _de facto_ government, but could not find it. the cities hated the nobles, and the republicans resented the "courteous warfare" which either side was said to wage on the other, sparing each other's nobles and slaughtering the commons. [sidenote: ] at this point the states general were convoked at paris by the league. so many provinces refused to send deputies that there were only members out of a normal . a serial publication by several authors, called the _satyre menippée_, poured ridicule on the pretentious of the national assembly. various solutions of the deadlock were proposed. philip ii of spain offered to support mayenne as lieutenant general of france if the league would make his daughter, as the heiress through her mother, elizabeth of valois, queen. this being refused, philip next proposed that the young duke of guise should marry his daughter { } and become king. but this proposal also won little support. the enemies of henry iv were conscious of his legitimate rights and jealous of foreign interference; the only thing that stood in the way of their recognizing him was his heresy. [sidenote: henry's conversion] henry, finding that there seemed no other issue to an intolerable situation, at last resolved, though with much reluctance, to change his religion. on july , , he abjured the protestant faith, kneeling to the archbishop of bourges, and was received into the bosom of the roman church. that his conversion was due entirely to the belief that "paris was worth a mass" is, of course, plain. indeed, he frankly avowed that he still scrupled at some articles, such as purgatory, the worship of the saints, and the power of the pope. and it must be remembered that his motives were not purely selfish. the alternative seemed to be indefinite civil war with all its horrors, and henry deliberately but regretfully sacrificed his confessional convictions on the altar of his country. the step was not immediately successful. the huguenots were naturally enraged. the catholics doubted the king's sincerity. at paris the preachers of the league ridiculed the conversion from the pulpit. "my dog," sneered one of them, "were you not at mass last sunday? come here and let us offer you the crown." but the "politiques" rallied to the throne and the league rapidly melted away. the _satyre menippée_, supporting the interests of henry, did much to turn public opinion in his favor. a further impression was made by his coronation at chartres in . when the surrender of paris followed, the king entered his capital to receive the homage of the sorbonne and the parlement of paris. the superstitious were convinced of henry's sincerity when he touched some scrofulous persons and they { } were said to be healed. curing the "king's evil" was one of the oldest attributes of royalty, and it could not be imagined that it would descend to an impostor. henry showed the wisest statesmanship in consolidating his power. he bought up those who still held out against him at their own price, remarking that whatever it cost it would be cheaper than fighting them. he showed a wise clemency in dealing with his enemies, banishing only about persons. next came absolution by pope clement viii, who, after driving as hard a bargain as he could, finally granted it on september , . but even yet all danger was not past. enraged at seeing france escape from his clutches, philip of spain declared war, and he could still count on the support of mayenne and the last remnant of the league. the daring action of henry at fontaine-française on june , , where with three hundred horse he routed twelve hundred spaniards, so discouraged his enemies that mayenne hastened to submit, and peace was signed with spain in . the finances of the realm, naturally in a chaotic state, were brought to order and solvency by a huguenot noble, the duke of sully, henry's ablest minister. the legal status of the protestants was still to be settled. it was not changed by henry's abjuration, and the king was determined at all costs to avoid another civil war. [sidenote: edict of nantes, april , ] he therefore published the edict of nantes, declared to be perpetual and irrevocable. by it liberty of conscience was granted to all "without being questioned, vexed or molested," and without being "forced to do anything contrary to their religion." liberty of worship was conceded in all places in which it had been practised for the last two years; _i.e._ in two places in every bailiwick except large towns, where services were to be held outside the walls, and { } in the houses of the great nobles. protestant worship was forbidden at paris and for five leagues (twelve and one-half miles) outside the walls. protestants had all other legal rights of catholics and were eligible to all offices. to secure them in these rights a separate court of justice was instituted, a division of the parlement of paris to be called the edict chamber and to consist of ten catholic and six protestant judges. but a still stronger guarantee was given in their recognition as a separately organized state within the state. the king agreed to leave two hundred towns in their hands, some of which, like montpellier, montauban, and la rochelle, were fortresses in which they kept garrisons and paid the governors. as they could raise , soldiers at a time when the national army in time of peace was only , , their position seemed absolutely impregnable. so favorable was the edict to the huguenots that it was bitterly opposed by the catholic clergy and by the parlement of paris. only the personal insistence of the king finally carried it. [sidenote: reasons for failure of french protestantism] protestantism was stronger in the sixteenth century in france than it ever was thereafter. during the eighty-seven years while the edict of nantes was in force it lost much ground, and when that edict was revoked by a doting king and persecution began afresh, the huguenots were in no condition to resist. [sidenote: ] from a total constituency at its maximum of perhaps a fifth or a sixth of the whole population, the protestants have now sunk to less than two per cent. ( , out of , , ). the history of the rise and decline of the huguenot movement is a melancholy record of persecution and of heroism. how great the number of martyrs was can never be known accurately. apart from st. bartholomew there were several lesser massacres, the wear and tear of a generation of war, and { } the unremitting pressure of the law that claimed hundreds of victims a year. [sidenote: hostility of government] three principal causes can be assigned for the failure of the reformation to do more than fight a drawn battle in france. the first and least important of these was the steady hostility of the government. this hostility was assured by the mutually advantageous alliance between the throne and the church sealed in the concordat of bologna of . but that the opposition of the government, heavily as it weighed, was not and could not be the decisive force in defeating protestantism is proved, in my judgment, by the fact that even when the huguenots had a king of their own persuasion they were unable to obtain the mastery. had their faith won the support not only of a considerable minority, but of the actual majority of the people, they could surely at this time have secured the government and made france a protestant state. [sidenote: protestantism came too late] the second cause of the final failure of the reformation was the tardiness with which it came to france. it did not begin to make its really popular appeal until some years after , when calvin's writings attained a gradual publicity. this was twenty years later than the reformation came forcibly home to the germans, and in those twenty years it had made its greatest conquests north of the rhine. of causes as well as of men it is true that there is a tide in their affairs which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune, but which, once missed, ebbs to defeat. every generation has a different interest; to every era the ideals of that immediately preceding become stale and old-fashioned. the writings of every age are a polemic against those of their fathers; every dogma has its day, and after every wave of enthusiam [transcriber's note: enthusiasm?] a reaction sets in. thus it was that the reformation { } missed, though it narrowly missed, the propitious moment for conquering france. enough had been said of it during the reign of francis to make the people tired of it, but not enough to make them embrace it. by the time that calvin had become well known, the catholics had awakened and had seized many of the weapons of their opponents, a fresh statement of belief, a new enthusiasm, a reformed ethical standard. the council of trent, the jesuits, the other new orders, were only symptoms of a still more widely prevalent catholic revival that came, in france, just in the nick of time to deprive the protestants of many of their claims to popular favor. [sidenote: beaten by the renaissance] but probably the heaviest weight in the scale against the reformation was the renaissance--far stronger in france than in germany. the one marched from the north, while the other was wafted up from italy. they met, not as hostile armies but rather--to use a humble, commercial illustration--as two competing merchants. the goods they offered were not the same, not even similar, but the appeal of each was of such a nature that few minds could be the whole-hearted devotees of both. the new learning and the beauties of italian art and literature sapped away the interest of just those intelligent classes whose support was needed to make the triumph of the reformation complete. terrible as were the losses of the huguenots by fire and sword, considerable as were the defections from their ranks of those who found in the reformed catholic church a spiritual refuge, still greater was the loss of the protestant cause in failing to secure the adherence of such minds as dolet and rabelais, ronsard and montaigne, and of the thousands influenced by them. and a study of just these men will show how the italian influence worked and how it grew stronger in its rivalry with the religious interest. { } whereas marot had found something to interest him in the new doctrines, ronsard bitterly hated them. passionately devoted, as he and the rest of the pleiade were, to the sensuous beauties of italian poetry, he had neither understanding of nor patience with dogmatic subtleties. in the huguenots he saw nothing but mad fanatics and dangerous fomentors of rebellion. in his _discourses on the evils of the times_, he laid all the woes of france at the door of the innovators. and powerfully his greater lyrics seduced the mind of the public from the contemplation of divinity to the enjoyment of earthly beauty. the same intensification of the contrast between the two spirits is seen in comparing montaigne with rabelais. it is true that rabelais ridiculed all positive religion, but nevertheless it fascinated him. his theological learning is remarkable. but montaigne ignored religion as far as possible. [sidenote: montaigne's aloofness] nourished from his earliest youth on the great classical writers, he had no interest apart from "the kingdom of man." he preferred to remain in the old faith because that course caused him the least trouble. he had no sympathy with the protestants, but he did not hate them, as did ronsard. during the wars of religion, he maintained friendly relations with the leaders of both parties. and he could not believe that creed was the real cause of the civil strife. "take from the catholic army," said he, "all those actuated by pure zeal for the church or for the king and country, and you will not have enough men left to form one company." it is strange that beneath the evil passions and self-seeking of the champions of each party he could not see the fierce flame of popular heroism and fanaticism; but that he, and thousands of men like him, could not do so, and could not enter, even by imagination, into the causes { } which, but a half century earlier, had set the world on fire, largely explains how the religious issue had lost its savour and why protestantism failed in france. [ ] "the king my son will never have entire obedience." [ ] "that no one may embroil us in the friendship in which i desire that these two kingdoms shall remain during my lifetime." { } chapter v the netherlands section . the lutheran reform [sidenote: the netherlands] the netherlands have always been a favorite topic for the speculation of those philosophers who derive a large part of national character from geographical conditions. a land that needed reclaiming from the sea by hard labor, a country situated at those two great outlets of european commerce, the mouths of the rhine and the scheldt, a borderland between german and latin culture, naturally moulded a brave, stubborn, practical and intelligent people, destined to play in history a part seemingly beyond their scope and resources. the people of the netherlands became, to all intents, a state before they became a nation. the burgundian dukes of the fourteenth and fifteenth century added to their fiefs counties, dukedoms and bishoprics, around the nucleus of their first domain, until they had forged a compact and powerful realm. [sidenote: philip the good, - ] philip the good, duke of burgundy and lord, under various titles, of much of the netherlands, deserved the title of _conditor belgii_ by his successful wars on france and by his statesmanlike policy of centralization. to foster unity he created the states general--borrowing the name and function thereof from france--in which all of the seventeen provinces[ ] of the netherlands were represented on great occasions. continually increasing { } in power with reference to the various localities, it remained subordinate to the prince, who had the sole right of initiating legislation. at first it met now in one city, then in another, but after always convened at brussels, and always used the french language officially. [sidenote: charles the bold, - ] charles the bold completed and yet endangered the work of philip, for he was worsted in mortal strife with louis xi of france and, dying in battle, left his dominions to his daughter, mary. [sidenote: maximilian, - ] her husband, the emperor maximilian, and her son, philip the handsome, [sidenote: philip the handsome, - ] added to her realms those vast dominions that made her grandson, charles, the greatest potentate in europe. born in ghent, reared in the netherlands, and speaking only the french of the walloons, charles was always regarded by his subjects as one of themselves. he almost completed the unification of the burgundian state by the conquest of tournay from france ( ), and the annexation of the independent provinces of friesland ( ), overyssel and utrecht ( ), groningen ( ) and guelders ( ). liège still remained a separate entity under its prince-bishops. but even under charles, notwithstanding a general feeling of loyalty to the house of hapsburg, each province was more conscious of its own individuality than were the people as a whole of common patriotism. some of the provinces lay within the empire, others were vassals of france, a few were independent. dutch was regarded as a dialect of german. the most illustrious netherlander of the time, erasmus, in discussing his race, does not even contemplate the possibility of there being a nation composed of dutch and flemish men. the only alternative that presents itself to him is whether he is french or german and, having been born at rotterdam, he decides in favor of the latter. { } [sidenote: classes] the burgundian princes found their chief support in the nobility, in a numerous class of officials, and in the municipal aristocracies. the nobles, transformed from a feudal caste to a court clique, even though they retained, as satellites of the monarch, much wealth and power, had relatively lost ground to the rising pretensions of the cities and of the commercial class. the clergy, too, were losing their old independence in subservience to a government which regulated their tithes and forbade their indulgence-trade. in charles secured from leo x and again in from clement vii the right of nomination to vacant benefices. he was able to make of the bishops his tools and to curtail the freedom, jurisdiction, and financial privileges of the clergy considerably because the spiritual estate had lost favor with the people and received no support from them. as the two privileged classes surrendered their powers to the monarch, the third estate was coming into its own. not until the war of independence, however, was it able to withstand the combination of bureaucracy and plutocracy that made common cause with the central government against the local rights of the cities and the customary privileges of the gilds. almost everywhere the prince was able, with the tacit support of the wealthier burghers, to substitute for the officers elected by the gilds his own commissioners. [sidenote: revolt of ghent] but this usurpation, together with a variety of economic ills for which the commoners were inclined, quite wrongly, to blame the government, caused general discontent and in one case open rebellion. the gilds of ghent, a proud and ancient city, suffering from the encroachments of capitalism and from the decline of the flemish cloth industry, had long asserted among their rights that of each gild to refuse to pay one of the taxes, any one it chose, levied by the government. [sidenote: ] the attempt { } of the government to suppress this privilege caused a rising which took the characteristically modern form of a general strike. the regent of the netherlands, mary, yielded at first to the demands of the gilds, as she had no means of coercion convenient. charles was in spain at the time, but hurried northward, being granted free passage through france by the king who felt he had an interest in aiding his fellow monarch to put down rebellious subjects. early in charles entered ghent at the head of a sufficient army. he soon meted out a sanguinary punishment to the "brawlers" as the strikers were called, humbled the city government, deprived it of all local privileges, suppressed all independent corporations, asserted the royal prerogative of nominating aldermen, and erected a fortress to overawe the burghers. thus the only overt attempt to resist the authority of charles v, apart from one or two insignificant anabaptist riots, was crushed. in matters of foreign policy the people of the netherlands naturally wished to be guided in reference to their own interests and not to the larger interests of the emperor's other domains. wielding immense wealth--during the middle decades of the sixteenth century antwerp was both the first port and the first money-market of europe--and cherishing the sentiment that charles was a native of their land, they for some time sweetly flattered themselves that their interests were the center around which gravitated the desires and needs of the empire and of spain. indeed, the balance of these two great states, and the regency of margaret of austria, [sidenote: margaret of austria, regent, - ] a hapsburg determined to give the netherlands their due, for a time allowed them at least the semblance of getting their wishes. but when charles's sister, mary of hungary, succeeded margaret as regent, she was too entirely { } dependent on her brother, and he too determined to consult larger than burgundian interests, to allow the netherlands more than the smallest weight in larger plans. the most that she could do was to unify, centralize and add to the provinces, and to get what commercial advantages treaties could secure. thus, she redeemed luxemburg from the margrave of baden to whom maximilian had pawned it. thus, also, she negotiated fresh commercial treaties with england and unified the coinage. but with all these achievements, distinctly advantageous to the people she governed, her efforts to increase the power of the crown and the necessity she was under of subordinating her policy to that of germany and spain, made her extremely unpopular. the relationship of the netherlands to the empire was a delicate and important question. though the empire was the feudal suzerain of most of the burgundian provinces, charles felt far more keenly for his rights as an hereditary, local prince than for the aggrandizement of his empire, and therefore tried, especially after he had left austria to his brother ferdinand, [sidenote: september , ] to loosen rather than to strengthen the bond. even as early as , when the imperial diet demanded that the "common penny" be levied in the netherlands, charles's council aided and abetted his burgundian subjects in refusing to pay it. in the netherlands, in spite of urgent complaints from the diet, completely freed itself from imperial jurisdiction in the administration of justice. matters became still more complicated when utrecht, friesland, groningen and guelders, formerly belonging to the westphalian district of the empire, were annexed by charles as burgundian prince. probably he would not have been able to vindicate these acts of power, had not his victory at mühlberg [sidenote: ] freed him from the { } restraints of the imperial constitution. a convention was made at the next diet of augsburg, [sidenote: convention of june , ] providing that henceforth the netherlands should form a separate district, the "burgundian circle," of the empire, and that their prince, as such, should be represented in the diet and in the imperial supreme court. taxes were so apportioned that in time of peace the netherlands should contribute to the imperial treasury as much as did two electors, and in time of war as much as three. this treaty nominally added to the empire two new counties, flanders and artois, and it gave the whole netherlands the benefit of imperial protection. but, though ratified by the states general promptly, the convention remained almost a dead letter, and left the netherlands virtually autonomous. as long as they were unmolested the netherlands forgot their union entirely, and when, under the pressure of spanish rule, they later remembered and tried to profit by it, they found that the empire had no wish to revive it. [sidenote: reformation] the general causes of the religious revolution were the same in the low countries as in other lands. the ground was prepared by the mystics of the earlier ages, by the corruption of and hatred for the clergy, and buy the renaissance. the central situation of the country made it especially open to all currents of european thought. printing was early introduced from germany and expanded so rapidly in these years [sidenote: - ] that no less than fifty new publishing houses were erected. as antwerp was the most cosmopolitan of cities, so erasmus was the most nearly the citizen of the world in that era. the great humanist, who did so much to prepare for the reformation, spent in his native land just those early years of its first appearance when he most favored luther. { } a group to take up with the wittenberg professor's doctrines were the augustinians, many of whom had been in close relations with the saxon friaries. one of them, james probst, had been prior of wittenberg where he learned to know luther well [sidenote: ] and when he became prior of the convent at antwerp he started a rousing propaganda in favor of the reform. [sidenote: ] another augustinian, henry of zütphen, made his friary at dordrecht the center of a lutheran movement. hoen at the hague, hinne rode at utrecht, gerard lister at zwolle, melchior miritzsch at ghent, were soon in correspondence with luther and became missionaries of his faith. his books, which circulated among the learned in latin, were some of them translated into dutch as early as . the german commercial colony at antwerp was another channel for the infiltration of the lutheran gospel. [sidenote: - ] the many travelers, among them albert dürer, brought with them tidings of the revolt and sowed its seeds in the soil of flanders and holland. singularly enough, the colony of portuguese jews, the marranos as they were called, became, if not converts, at least active agents in the dissemination of lutheran works. [sidenote: catholic answers] a vigorous counter-propaganda was at once started by the partisans of the pope. this was directed against both erasmus and luther and consisted largely, according to the reports of the former, in the most violent invective. nicholas of egmont, "a man with a white pall but a black heart" stormed in the pulpit against the new heretics. another man interspersed a sermon on charity with objurgations against those whom he called "geese, asses, stocks, and antichrists." [sidenote: ] one dominican said he wished he could fasten his teeth in luther's throat, for he would not fear to go to the lord's supper with that blood on his { } mouth. it was at antwerp, a little later, that were first coined, or at least first printed, the so celebrated epigrams that erasmus was luther's father, that erasmus had laid the eggs and luther had hatched the chickens, and that luther, zwingli, oecolampadius and erasmus were the four soldiers who had crucified christ. the principal literary opposition to the new doctrines came from the university of louvain. luther's works were condemned by cologne, and this sentence was ratified by louvain. [sidenote: august , ] a number of the leading professors wrote against him, [sidenote: november ] among them the ex-professor adrian of utrecht, recently created bishop of tortosa and cardinal, and soon to be pope. the conservatives, however, could do little but scold until the arrival of charles v in june , and of the papal nuncio aleander in september. the latter saw charles immediately at antwerp and found him already determined to resist heresy. acting under the edict procured at that time, though not published until the following march , aleander busied himself by going around and burning lutheran works in various cities and preaching against the heresy. [sidenote: october, ] he found far more opposition than one would think probable, and the burning of the books, as erasmus said, removed them from the bookstores only, not from the hearts of the people. the nuncio even discovered, he said, at this early date, heretics who denied the real presence in the eucharist: evidently independent spirits like hoen who anticipated the doctrine later taken up by carlstadt and zwingli. the validity of the edict of worms was affirmed for the burgundian provinces. the edict was read publicly at antwerp [sidenote: july , ] while four hundred of luther's books were burnt, three hundred confiscated from the shops and one hundred brought by the people. { } whereas spiritual officers were at first employed, civil magistrates now began to act against the innovators. in the beginning, attention was paid to municipal privileges, but these soon came to be disregarded, and resistance on any pretext was treated as rebellion and treason. the first persons to be arrested were the prior of antwerp, probst, [sidenote: ] who recanted, but later escaped and relapsed, and two other intimate friends of erasmus. [sidenote: the inquisition] charles wished to introduce the spanish inquisition, but his councillors were all against it. under a different name, however, it was exactly imitated when francis van der hulst was appointed chief inquisitor by the state, [sidenote: april , ] and was confirmed by a bull of adrian vi. [sidenote: june , ] the original inquisitorial powers of the bishops remained, and a supreme tribunal of three judges was appointed in . [sidenote: martyrs, july , ] the first martyrs, henry voes and john esch of brussels, said erasmus, made many lutherans by their death. luther wrote a hymn on the subject and published an open letter to the christians of the netherlands. [sidenote: ] censorship of the press was established in holland in vain, for everything goes to show that lutheranism rapidly increased. popular interest in the subject seemed to be great. every allusion to ecclesiastical corruption in speeches or in plays was applauded. thirty-eight laborers were arrested at antwerp for assembling to read and discuss the gospel. [sidenote: ] iconoclastic outbreaks occurred in which crucifixes were desecrated. in the same year an italian in antwerp wrote that though few people were openly lutheran many were secretly so, and that he had been assured by leading citizens that if the revolting peasants of germany approached antwerp, twenty thousand armed men would rise in the city to assist them. [sidenote: july ] when a lutheran was drowned in the scheldt, { } the act precipitated a riot. in the english ambassador wrote wolsey from the netherlands that two persons out of three "kept luther's opinions," and that while the english new testament was being printed in that city, repeated attempts on his part to induce the magistrates to interfere came to nothing. protestant works also continued to pour from the presses. the bible was soon translated into dutch, and in the course of eight years four editions of the whole bible and twenty-five editions of the new testament were called for, though the complete scriptures had never been printed in dutch before. [sidenote: october , ] alarmed by the spread of heresy, attributed to too great mildness, the government now issued an edict that inaugurated a reign of terror. death was decreed not only for all heretics but for all who, not being theologians, discussed articles of faith, or who caricatured god, mary, or the saints, and for all who failed to denounce heretics known to them. while the government momentarily flattered itself that heresy had been stamped out, at most it had been driven under ground. one of the effects of the persecution was to isolate the netherlands from the empire culturally and to some small extent commercially. but heresy proved to be a veritable hydra. from one head sprang many daughters, the anabaptists, [sidenote: anabaptists] harder to deal with than their mother. for while lutheranism stood essentially for passive obedience, and flourished nowhere save as a state church, anabaptism was frankly revolutionary and often socialistic. melchior hoffmann, the most striking of their early leaders, a fervent and uneducated fanatic, driven from place to place, wandered from sweden and denmark to italy and spain [sidenote: - ] preaching chiliastic and communistic ideas. only for three years was he much in the netherlands, but it was there that he won his greatest { } successes. appealing, as the anabaptists always did, to the lower classes, he converted thousands and tens of thousands of the very poor--beggars, laborers and sailors--who passionately embraced the teaching that promised the end of kings and governments and the advent of the "rule of the righteous." mary of hungary was not far wrong when she wrote that they planned to plunder all churches, nobles, and wealthy merchants, in short, all who had property, and from the spoil to distribute to every individual according to his need. [sidenote: october , ] a new and severer edict would have meant a general massacre, had it been strictly enforced, but another element entered into the situation. the city bourgeoisies that had previously resisted the government, now supported it in this one particular, persecution of the anabaptists. when at amsterdam [sidenote: ] the sectaries rose and very nearly mastered the city, death by fire was decreed for the men, by water for the women. from antwerp they were banished by a general edict especially aimed at them supplemented by massacres in the northern provinces. [sidenote: june , ] after the crisis at münster, though the anabaptists continued to be a bugbear to the ruling classes, their propaganda lost its dangerously revolutionary character. menno simons of friesland, after his conversion in , became the leader of the movement and succeeded in gathering the smitten people into a large and harmless body. the anabaptists furnished, however, more martyrs than did any other sect. lutheranism also continued to spread. the edict of confesses as much while providing new and sterner penalties against those who even interceded for heretics. the fact is that the inquisition as directed against lutherans was thoroughly unpopular and was resisted in various provinces on the technical ground of local privileges. the protestants managed { } to keep unnoticed amidst a general intention to connive at them, and though they did not usually flinch from martyrdom they did not court it. the inquisitors were obliged to arrest their victims at the dead of night, raiding their houses and hauling them from bed, in order to avoid popular tumult. [sidenote: ] when enzinas printed his spanish bible at antwerp the printer told him that in that city the scriptures had been published in almost every european language, doubtless an exaggeration but a significant one. arrested and imprisoned at brussels for this cause, enzinas received while under duress visits from four hundred citizens of that city who were protestants. to control the book trade an oath was exacted of every bookseller [sidenote: ] not to deal in heretical works and the first "index of prohibited books," drawn up by the university of louvain, was issued. a censorship of plays was also attempted. this was followed by an edict of requiring of every person entering the netherlands a certificate of catholic belief. as brabant and antwerp repudiated a law that would have ruined their trade, it remained, in fact, a dead letter. charles's policy of repression had been on the whole a failure, due partly to the cosmopolitan culture of the netherlands and their commercial position making them open to the importation of ideas as of merchandise from all europe. it was due in part to the local jealousies and privileges of the separate provinces, and in part to the strength of certain nobles and cities. the persecution, indeed, had a decidedly class character, for the emperor well knew protestant nobles whom he did not molest, while the poor seldom failed to suffer. and yet charles had accomplished something. even the protestants were loyal, strange to say, to him personally. the number of martyrs in his reign has been estimated at barely one thousand, { } but it must be remembered that for every one put to death there were a number punished in other ways. and the body of the people was still catholic, even in the north. it is noteworthy that the most popular writer of this period, as well as the first to use the dutch tongue with precision and grace, was anna bijns, a lay nun, violently anti-lutheran in sentiment. [sidenote: anna bijns, - ] [ ] brabant, limburg, luxemburg, guelders, flanders, artois, hainaut, holland, zeeland, malines, namur, lille, tournay, friesland, utrecht, overyssel and groningen. section . the calvinist revolt when charles v, weary of the heaviest scepter ever wielded by any european monarch from charlemagne to napoleon, sought rest for his soul in a monk's cell, he left his great possessions divided between his brother ferdinand and his son philip. to the former went austria and the empire, to the latter the burgundian provinces and spain with its vast dependencies in the new world. [sidenote: spain and the netherlands] the result of this was to make the netherlands practically a satellite of spain. hitherto, partly because their interests had largely coincided with those of the empire, partly because by balancing germany against spain they could manage to get their own rights, they had found prosperity and had acquired a good deal of national power. indeed, with their wealth, their central position, and growing strength as province after province was annexed, and their consciousness that their ruler was a native of flanders, their pride had been rather gratified than hurt by the knowledge that he possessed far larger dominions. [sidenote: abdication of charles] but when charles, weeping copiously and demanding his subjects' pardon, descended from the throne supported by the young prince of orange, [sidenote: october , ] and when his son philip ii had replied to his father in spanish, even those present had an uneasy feeling that the situation had changed for the worse, and that the netherlands were being handed over from a burgundian to a spanish ruler. from { } this time forth the interests and sentiments of the two countries became more and more sharply divergent, and, as the smaller was sacrificed to the larger, a conflict became inevitable. the revolt that followed within ten years after philip had permanently abandoned the netherlands to make his home in spain [sidenote: ] was first and foremost a nationalist revolt. contrasted with the particularistic uprising of it evinced the enormous growth, in the intervening century, of a national self-consciousness in the seventeen provinces. [sidenote: religious issue] but though the catastrophe was apparently inevitable from political grounds, it was greatly complicated and intensified by the religious issue. philip was determined, as he himself said, either to bring the netherlands back to the fold of rome or "so to waste their land that neither the natives could live there nor should any thereafter desire the place for habitation." and yet the means he took were even for his purpose the worst possible, a continual vacillation between timid indulgence and savage cruelty. though he insisted that his ministers should take no smallest step without his sanction, he could never make up his mind what to do, waited too long to make a decision and then, with fatal fatuity, made the wrong one. [sidenote: calvinism] at the same time the people were coming under the spell of a new and to the government more dangerous form of protestantism. whereas the lutherans had stood for passive obedience and the anabaptists for revolutionary communism, the calvinists appealed to the independent middle classes and gave them not only the enthusiasm to endure martyrdom but also--what the others had lacked--the will and the power to resist tyranny by force. calvin's polity, as worked out in geneva, was a subordination of the state to the church. his reforms were thorough and consciously social and political. calvinism in all lands aroused { } republican passions and excited rebellion against the powers that be. this feature was the more prominent in the netherlands [sidenote: ] in that its first missionaries were french exiles who irrigated the receptive soil of the low countries with doctrines subversive of church and state alike. the intercourse with england, partly through the emigration from that land under mary's reign, partly through the coming and going of flemings and walloons, also opened doors to protestant doctrine. at first the missionaries came secretly, preaching to a few specially invited to some private house or inn. people attended these meetings disguised and after dark. first mentioned in the edict of , nine years later the calvinists drew up a _confessio belgica_, as a sign and an aid to union. calvin's french writings could be read in the southern provinces in the original. though as early as some nobles had been converted, the new religion undoubtedly made its strongest appeal, as a contemporary put it, "to those who had grown rich by trade and were therefore ready for revolution." it was among the merchants of the great cities that it took strongest root and from the middle class spread to the laborers; influenced not only by the example of their masters, but sometimes also by the policy of protestant employers to give work only to co-religionists. in a short time it had won a very considerable success, though perhaps not the actual majority of the population. many of the poor, hitherto anabaptists, thronged to it in hopes of social betterment. many adventurers with no motive but to stir the waters in which they might fish joined the new party. but on the whole, as its appeal was primarily moral and religious, its constituency was the more substantial, progressive, and intelligent part of the community. the greatest weakness of the protestants was their { } division. lutheran, calvinist, and anabaptist continued to compete for the leadership and hated each other cordially. the calvinists themselves were divided into two parties, the "rekkelijken" or "compromisers" and the "preciesen" or "stalwarts." moreover there were various other shades of opinion, not amounting quite to new churches. the pure erasmians, under cassander, advocated tolerance. more pronounced was the movement of dirck volckertszoon coornheert [sidenote: coornheert, - ] a merchant of amsterdam who, in addition to advising his followers to dissimulate their views rather than to court martyrdom, rejected the calvinist dogma of predestination and tried to lay the emphasis in religion on the spirit of jesus rather than on either dogma or ritual. though the undertow was slowly but surely carrying the low countries adrift from spain, for the moment their new monarch, then at the age of twenty-eight, seemed to have the winds and waves of politics all in his favor. he was at peace with france; he had nothing to fear from germany; his marriage with mary of england made that country, always the best trader with the netherlands, an ally. his first steps were to relieve mary of hungary of her regency and to give it to emanuel philibert, to issue a new edict against heresy and to give permission to the jesuits to enter the low countries. [sidenote: ] the chief difficulties were financial. the increase in the yield of the taxes in the reign of charles had been from , , guilders[ ] to , , guilders. in addition to this, immense loans had exhausted the credit of the government. the royal domain was mortgaged. as the floating debt of the provinces rose rapidly the { } government was in need of a grant to keep up the army. the only way to meet the situation was to call the states general. [sidenote: march, ] when they met, they complained that they were taxed more heavily than spain and demanded the removal of the spanish troops, a force already so unpopular that william of orange refused to take command of it. in presenting their several grievances one province only, holland, mentioned the religious question to demand that the powers of the inquisitors be curtailed. to obtain funds philip was obliged to promise, against his will, to withdraw the soldiers. this was only done, under pressure, on january , . [sidenote: ] philip had left the netherlands professing his intention of returning, but hoping and resolving in his heart never to do so. his departure made easier the unavoidable breach, but the struggle had already begun. wishing to leave a regent of royal blood philip appointed margaret of parma, a natural daughter of charles v. born in , she had been married at the age of fourteen to alexander de' medici, a nephew of clement vii; becoming a widow in the following year she was in married to ottavio farnese, a nephew of paul iii, at that time only fourteen years old. given as her dower the cities of parma and piacenza, she had become thoroughly italian in feeling. [sidenote: anthony perrenot cardinal granvelle, - ] to guide her philip left, besides the council of state, a special "consulta" or "kitchen cabinet" of three members, the chief of whom was granvelle. the real fatherland of this native of the free county of burgundy was the court. as a passionate servant of the crown and a clever and knowing diplomat, he was in constant correspondence with philip, recommending measures over the head of margaret. his acts made her intensely unpopular and her attempts to coax and cozen public opinion only aroused suspicion. { } [sidenote: egmont, - ] three members in the council of state, granvelle and two others, were partisans of the crown; three other members may be said to represent the people. one of them was lamoral count of egmont, the most brilliant and popular of the high nobility. though a favorite of charles v on account of his proved ability as a soldier, his frankness and generosity, he was neither a sober nor a weighty statesman. the popular proverb, "egmont for action and orange for counsel," well characterized the difference between the two leading members of the council of state. william, prince of orange, lacking the brilliant qualities of egmont, far surpassed him in acumen and in strength of character. from his father, william count of nassau-dillenburg, [sidenote: william the silent, - ] he inherited important estates in germany near the netherlands, and by the death of a cousin he became, at the age of eleven, prince of orange--a small, independent territory in southern france--and lord of breda and gertruidenberg in holland. with an income of , guilders per annum he was by far the richest man in the netherlands, egmont coming next with an income of , . william was well educated. though he spoke seven languages and was an eloquent orator, he was called "the silent" because of the rare discretion that never revealed a secret nor spoke an imprudent word. in religion he was indifferent, being first a catholic, then a lutheran, then a calvinist, and always a man of the world. his broad tolerance found its best, or only, support in the erasmian tendencies of coornheert. his second wife, anne of saxony, having proved unfaithful to him, he married, while she was yet alive, charlotte of bourbon. this act, like the bigamy of philip of hesse, was approved by protestant divines. behind them egmont and orange had the hearty support of the patriotic and well educated native nobility. { } the rising generation of the aristocracy saw only the bad side of the reign of charles; they had not shared in his earlier victories but had witnessed his failure to conquer either france or protestantism. [sidenote: new bishoprics] in order to deal more effectively with the religious situation granvelle wished to bring the ecclesiastical territorial divisions into harmony with the political. hitherto the netherlands had been partly under the archbishop of cologne, partly under the archbishop of rheims. but as these were both foreigners granvelle applied for and secured a bull creating fourteen new bishoprics and three archbishoprics, [sidenote: march , ] cambrai, utrecht, and malines, of which the last held the primacy. his object was doubtless in large part to facilitate the extirpation of heresy, but it was also significant as one more instance of the nationalization of the church, a tendency so strong that neither catholic nor protestant countries escaped from it. in this case all the appointments were to be made by the king with consent of the pope. the people resented the autocratic features of a plan they might otherwise have approved; a cry was raised throughout the provinces that their freedom was infringed upon, and that the plan furnished a new instrument to the hated inquisition. [sidenote: february, ] granvelle, more than ever detested when he received the cardinal's hat, was dubbed "the red devil," "the archrascal," "the red dragon," "the spanish swine," "the pope's dung." in july egmont and orange sent their resignations from the council of state to philip, saying that they could no longer share the responsibility for granvelle's policy, especially as everything was done behind their backs. philip, however, was slow to take alarm. for the moment his attention was taken up with the growth of the huguenot party in france and his efforts centered on helping the french catholics against them. but the netherlands were { } importunate. in voicing the wishes of the people the province of brabant, with the capital, brussels, the metropolitan see, malines, and the university, louvain, took as decided a lead as the parlement of paris did in france. the estates of brabant demanded that orange be made their governor. the nobles began to remember that they were legally a part of the empire. the marriage of orange, on august , , with the lutheran anne of saxony, was but one sign of the _rapprochment_. though the prince continued to profess catholicism, he entertained many lutherans and emphasized as far as possible his position as vassal of the empire. philip, indeed, believed that the whole trouble came from the wounded vanity of a few nobles. but granvelle saw deeper. [sidenote: ] when the estates of brabant stopped the payment of the principal tax or "bede," [ ] and when the people of brussels took as a party uniform a costume derived from the carnival, a black cloak covered with red fool's heads, the cardinal, whose red hat was caricatured thereby, stated that nothing less than a republic was aimed at. this was true, though in the anticipation of the nobles, at least, the republic should have a decidedly aristocratic character. but granvelle had no policy to propose but repression. in order to prevent condemned heretics from preaching and singing on the scaffold a gag was put into their mouths. how futile a measure! the calvinists no longer disguised, but armed--a new and significant fact--thronged to their conventicles. emigration continued on a large scale. by it was estimated that thirty thousand protestants from the low countries were settled in or near london. elizabeth encouraged them to come, assigning them { } norwich as a place of refuge. [sidenote: ] she also began to tax imports from the netherlands, a blow to which philip replied by forbidding all english imports. [sidenote: revolt] hitherto the resistance to the government had been mostly passive and constitutional. but from may be dated the beginning of the revolt that did not cease until it had freed the northern provinces forever from spanish tyranny. the rise of the dutch republic is one of the most inspiring pages in history. superficially it has many points of resemblance with the american war of independence. in both there was the absentee king, the national hero, the local jealousies of the several provinces, the economic grievances, the rising national feeling and even the religious issue, though this had become very small in america. but the difference was in the ferocity of the tyranny and the intensity of the struggle. the two pictures are like the same landscape as it might be painted by millet and by turner: the one is decent and familiar, the other lurid and ghastly. with true anglo-saxon moderation the american war was fought like a game or an election, with humanity and attention to rules; but in holland and belgium was enacted the most terrible frightfulness in the world; over the whole land, mingled with the reek of candles carried in procession and of incense burnt to celebrate a massacre, brooded the sultry miasma of human blood and tears. on the one side flashed the savage sword of alva and the pitiless flame of the inquisitor tapper; on the other were arrayed, behind their dykes and walls, men resolved to win that freedom which alone can give scope and nobility to life. [sidenote: the intellectuals] and in the melée those suffered most who would fain have been bystanders, the humanists. persecuted by both sides, the intellectuals, who had once deserted the reform now turned again to it as the lesser of the two { } evils. they would have been glad to make terms with any church that would have left them in liberty, but they found the whips of calvin lighter than the scorpions of philip. even those who, like van helmont, wished to defend the church and to reconcile the tridentine decrees with philosophy, found that their labors brought them under suspicion and that what the church demanded was not harmony of thought but abnegation of it. the first act of the revolt may be said to be a secret compact, known as the compromise, [sidenote: the compromise, ] originally entered into by twenty nobles at brussels and soon joined by three hundred other nobles elsewhere. the document signed by them denounced the edicts as surpassing the greatest recorded barbarity of tyrants and as threatening the complete ruin of the country. to resist them the signers promised each other mutual support. in this as in subsequent developments the calvinist minority took the lead, but was supported by strong catholic forces. among the latter was the prince of orange, not yet a protestant. his conversion really made little difference in his program; both before and after it he wanted tolerance or reconciliation on cassander's plan of compromise. he would have greatly liked to have seen the peace of augsburg, now the public law of the empire, extended to the low countries, but this was made difficult even to advocate because the peace of augsburg provided liberty only for the lutheran confession, whereas the majority of protestants in the netherlands were now calvinists. for the same reason little help could be expected from the german princes, for the mutual animosity that was the curse of the protestant churches prevented their making common cause against the same enemy. as the huguenots--for so they began to be called in brabant as well as in france--were as yet too few { } to rebel, the only course open was to appeal to the government once more. a petition to make the edicts milder was presented to margaret in . one of her advisers bade her not to be afraid of "those beggars." originating in the scorn of enemies, like so many party names, the epithet "beggars" (gueux) presently became the designation and a proud one, of the nobles who had signed the compromise and later of all the rebels. encouraged by the regent's apparent lack of power to coerce them, the calvinist preachers became daily bolder. once again their religion showed its remarkable powers of organization. lacking nothing in funds, derived from a constituency of wealthy merchants, the preachers of the reformation were soon able to forge a machinery of propaganda and party action that stood them in good stead against the greater numbers of their enemies. especially in critical times, discipline, unity, and enthusiasm make headway against the deadly hatred of enemies and the deadlier apathy and timidity of the mass of mankind. it is true that the methods of the preachers often aroused opposition. [sidenote: iconoclasm] the zeal of the calvinists, inflamed by oppression and encouraged by the weakness of the government, burst into an iconoclastic riot, [sidenote: august , ] first among the unemployed at armentières, but spreading rapidly to antwerp, brussels, ghent, and then to the northern provinces, holland and zeeland. the english agent at brussels wrote: "coming into oure lady church, yt looked like hell wher were above torches brannyng and syche a noise as yf heven and erth had gone together with fallyng of images and fallyng down of costly works." books and manuscripts as well as pictures were destroyed. the cry "long live the beggars" resounded from one end of the land to the { } other. but withal there was no pillage and no robbery. the gold in the churches was left untouched. margaret feared a _jacquerie_ but, lacking troops, had to look on with folded hands at least for the moment. by chance there arrived just at this time an answer from philip to the earlier petition of the beggars. the king promised to abolish the spanish inquisition and to soften the edicts. freedom of conscience was tacitly granted, but the government made an exception, as soon as it dared, of those who had committed sacrilege in the recent riots. these men were outlawed. [sidenote: civil war] no longer fearing a religious war the calvinists started it themselves. louis of nassau, a brother of prince william, hired german mercenaries and invaded flanders, where he won some slight successes. in amsterdam the great beggar brederode entered into negotiations with huguenots and english friends. the first battle between the beggars and the government troops, [sidenote: march , ] near antwerp, ended in a rout for the former. philip now ordered ten thousand spanish veterans, led by alva, to march from italy to the netherlands. making their way through the free county of burgundy and lorraine they entered brussels on august , . [sidenote: alva - ] ferdinand alvarez de toledo, duke of alva, had won experience and reputation as a soldier in the german wars. though self-controlled and courtly in manner, his passionate patriotism and bigotry made him a fit instrument to execute philip's orders to make the netherlands spanish and catholic. he began with no uncertain hand, building forts at antwerp and quartering his troops at brussels where their foreign manners and roman piety gave offence to the citizens. on september he arrested the counts of egmont and horn, next to orange the chief leaders of the patriotic party. setting up a tribunal, called the council of { } troubles, to deal with cases of rebellion and heresy, he inaugurated a reign of terror. he himself spent seven hours a day in this court trying cases and signing death-warrants. not only heretics were punished but also agitators and those who had advocated tolerance. sincere catholics, indeed, noted that the crime of heresy was generally the mere pretext for dealing with patriots and all those obnoxious to the government. [sidenote: executions] for the first time we have definite statistics of the numbers executed. for instance, on january , , persons were sentenced to death, on february , ; on february , ; on march , ; and so on for day after day, week in and week out. on march at the same hour throughout the whole land men were executed. the total number put to death during the six years of alva's administration has been variously estimated at from , to , . the lower number is probably nearer the truth, though not high enough. emigration on a hitherto unknown scale within the next thirty or forty years carried , persons from the netherlands. thousands of others fled to the woods and became freebooters. the people as a whole were prostrated with terror. the prosperity of the land was ruined by the wholesale confiscations of goods. alva boasted that by such means he had added to the revenues of his territories , ducats per annum. william of orange retired to his estates at dillenburg not to yield to the tyrant but to find a _point d'appui_ from which to fight. wishing to avoid anything that might cause division among the people he kept the religious issue in the background and complained only of foreign tyranny. he tried to enlist the sympathies of the emperor maximilian ii and to collect money and men. william's friend villiers invaded the burgundian state near maastricht and louis of nassau marched with troops into friesland. { } [sidenote: april, ] by this time alva had increased his army by , german cavalry and both the rebel leaders were severely defeated. this triumph was followed by an act of power and defiance on alva's part sometimes compared to the execution of louis xvi by the french republicans. hitherto the sufferers from his reign of blood had not in any case been men of the highest rank. the first execution of nobles took place at brussels on june , that of the captured villiers followed on june , and that of egmont and horn on june . orange himself now took the field with , troops, a motley aggregate of french, flemish, and walloon huguenots and of german mercenaries. but he had no genius for war to oppose to the veterans of alva. continually harassed by the spaniards he was kept in fear for his communications, dared not risk a general engagement and was humiliated by seeing his retreat, in november, turned into a rout. [sidenote: july , ] finding that severity did not pacify the provinces, alva issued a proclamation that on the face of it was a general amnesty with pardon for all who submitted. but he excepted by name several hundred emigrants, all the protestant clergy, all who had helped them, all iconoclasts, all who had signed petitions for religious liberty, and all who had rebelled. as these exceptions included the greater portion of those who stood in need of pardon the measure proved illusory as a means of reconciliation. coupled with it were other measures, including the prohibition to subjects to attend foreign universities, intended to put a check on free trade in ideas. [sidenote: taxation] alva's difficulties and the miseries of the unhappy land entrusted to his tender mercies were increased by want of money. notwithstanding the privilege of { } granting their own taxes the states general were summoned [sidenote: march , ] and forced to accept new imposts of one per cent. on all property real and personal, ten per cent. on the sale of all movable goods and five per cent. on the sale of real estate. these were spanish taxes, exorbitant in any case but absolutely ruinous to a commercial people. a terrible financial panic followed. houses at antwerp that had rented for gulden could now be had for gulden. imports fell off to such an extent that at this port they yielded but , gulden per annum instead of , as formerly. the harbor was filled with empty boats; the market drugged with goods of all sorts that no one would buy. [sidenote: beggars of the sea] the cause of the patriots looked hopeless. orange, discredited by defeat, had retired to germany. at one time, to avoid the clamors of his troops for pay, he was obliged to flee by night from strassburg. but in this dark hour help came from the sea. louis of nassau, not primarily a statesman like his brother but a passionate crusader for protestantism, had been at la rochelle and had there seen the excellent work done by privateers. in emulation of his french brethren he granted letters of marque to the sailors of holland and zeeland. recruits thronged to the ships, huguenots, men from liège, and the laborers of the walloon provinces thrown out of work by the commercial crisis. these men promptly won striking successes in preying on spanish commerce. their many and rich prizes were taken to england or to emden and sold. often they landed on the coasts and attacked small catholic forces, or murdered priests. on the night of march -april , , these beggars of the sea seized the small town of brielle on a large island at the mouth of the meuse not far from the hague. this success was immediately followed by the insurrection of rotterdam and flushing. the war was conducted with combined { } heroism and frightfulness. receiving no quarter the beggars gave none, and to avenge themselves on the unspeakable wrongs committed by alva they themselves at times massacred the innocent. but their success spread like wildfire. the coast towns "fell away like beads from a rosary when one is gone." fortifications in all of them were strengthened and, where necessary, dykes were opened. reinforcements also came from england. [sidenote: revolution] by this time the revolt had become a veritable revolution. it found its battle hymn in the wilhelmuslied and its washington in william of orange. as all the towns of holland save amsterdam were in his hands, in june the provincial estates met--albeit illegally, for there was no one authorized to convene them--assumed sovereign power and made william their stat-holder. they voted large taxes and forced loans from rich citizens, and raised money from the sale of prizes taken at sea. all defect in prescriptive and legal power was made up by the popularity of the prince, deeply loved by all classes, not only on account of his affability to all, even the humblest, but still more because of confidence in his ability. never did his versatility, patience and skill in management shine more brightly. among the troops raised by the patriots he kept strict discipline, thus making by contrast more lurid the savage pillage by the spaniards. he kept far from fanatics and swashbucklers of whom there were plenty attracted to the revolt. his master idea was to keep the netherlands together and to free them from the foreigner. complete independence of spain was not at first planned, but it soon became inevitable. for a moment there was a prospect of help from coligny's policy of prosecuting a war with spain, but these hopes were destroyed by the defeat of the french huguenots near mons [sidenote: july , ] and by the massacre of saint { } bartholomew. [sidenote: august , ] freed from menace in this quarter and encouraged by his brilliant victory, alva turned north with an army now increased to , veterans. first he took malines and delivered it to his soldiers for "the most dreadful and inhuman sack of the day" as a contemporary wrote. the army then marched to guelders and stormed zutphen under express orders from their general "not to leave one man alive or one building unburnt." "with the help of god," as alva piously reported, the same punishment was meted out to naarden. then he marched to the still royalist amsterdam from which base he proceeded to invest haarlem. the siege was a long and hard one for the spaniards, harassed by the winter weather and by epidemics. alva wrote philip that it was "the bloodiest war known for long years" and begged for reinforcements. [sidenote: july , ] at last famine overcame the brave defenders of the city and it capitulated. finding that his cruelty had only nerved the people to the most desperate resistance, and wishing to give an example of clemency to a city that would surrender rather than await storming, alva contented himself with putting to death to the last man french, english, and walloon soldiers of the garrison, and five or six citizens. he also demanded a ransom of , dollars[ ] in lieu of plunder. not content with this meager largess the spanish troops mutinied, and only the promise of further cities to sack quieted them. the fortunes of the patriots were a little raised by the defeat of the spanish fleet in the zuiderzee by the beggars on october , . [sidenote: requesens] for some time philip had begun to suspect that alva's methods were not the proper ones to win back the affectionate loyalty of his people. though he hesitated long he finally removed him late in and { } appointed in his stead don louis requesens. had philip come himself he might have been able to do something, for the majority professed personal loyalty to him, and in that age, as shakespeare reminds us, divinity still hedged a king. but not having the decision to act in person philip picked out a favorite, known from his constant attendance on his master as "the king's hour-glass," in whom he saw the slavishly obedient tool that he thought he wanted. the only difference between the new governor and the old was that requesens lacked alva's ability; he had all the other's narrowly spanish views, his bigotry and absolutism. once arrived in the provinces committed to his charge, he had no choice but to continue the war. but on january , , orange conquered middelburg and from that date the spanish flag ceased to float over any portion of the soil of holland or zeeland. in open battle at mook, however, [sidenote: april , ] the spanish veterans again achieved success, defeating the patriots under louis of nassau, who lost his life. the beginning of the year saw the investment of leyden in great force. the heroism of the defence has become proverbial. when, in september, the dykes were cut to admit the sea, so that the vessels of the beggars were able to sail to the relief of the city, the siege was raised. it was the first important military victory for the patriots and marks the turning-point of the revolt. henceforth the netherlands could not be wholly subdued. requesens summoned the states general and offered a pardon to all who would submit. but the people saw in this only a sign of weakness. a flood of pamphlets calling to arms replied to the advances of the government. among the pamphleteers the ablest was philip van marnix, [sidenote: marnix, - ] a calvinist who turned his powers of satire against spain and the catholic { } church. william of orange, now a protestant, living at delft, inspired the whole movement. requesens, believing that if he were out of the way the revolt would collapse, like alva offered public rewards for his assassination. that there was really no common ground was proved at a conference between the two foes, broken off without result. in the campaign of the spanish army again achieved great things, taking oudewater, schoonhoven and other places. but the rebels would not give up. [sidenote: march , ] the situation was changed by the death of requesens. before his successor could be appointed events moved rapidly. after taking zierikzee on june , the spanish army turned to aalst, quartered the soldiers on the inhabitants, and forced the loyal city to pay the full costs of their maintenance. if even the catholics were alienated by this, the protestants went so far as to preach that any spaniard might be murdered without sin. in the concerted action against spain the estates of brabant now took the leading part; meeting at brussels they intimidated the council of state and raised an army of men. by this time holland and zeeland were to all intents and purposes an independent state. the calvinists, strong among the native population, were recruited by a vast influx of immigrants from other provinces until theirs became the dominant religion. holland and zeeland pursued a separate military and financial policy. alone among the provinces they were prosperous, for they had command of the rich sea-borne commerce. the growth of republican theory kept pace with the progress of the revolt. orange was surrounded by men holding the free principles of duplessis-mornay and corresponding with him. dutchmen now openly voiced their belief that princes were made for the sake of their subjects and not subjects for the sake { } of princes. even though they denied the equal rights of the common people they asserted the sovereignty of the representative assembly. the council of state, having assumed the authority of the viceroy during the interim, was deluged with letters petitioning them to shake off the spanish yoke entirely. but, as the council still remained loyal to philip, on september its members were arrested, a _coup d'état_ planned in the interests of orange and doubtless with his knowledge. it was, of course, tantamount to treason. the estates general now seized sovereign powers. still protesting their loyalty to the monarch's person and to the catholic religion, they demanded virtual independence and the withdrawal of the spanish troops. to enforce their demands they collected an army and took possession of several forts. but the spanish veterans never once thought of giving way. gathering at antwerp where they were besieged by the soldiers of the states general, [sidenote: november , ] they attacked and then scattered the bands sent against them and proceeded to sack antwerp like a captured town. in one dreadful day of the patriots, in part soldiers, in part noncombatants, perished. the wealth of the city was looted. the army of occupation boasted as of a victory of this deed of blood, known to the netherlanders as "the spanish fury." naturally, such a blow only welded the provinces more firmly together and steeled their temper to an even harder resistance. its immediate result was a treaty, known as the pacification of ghent, between the provinces represented in the states general on the one hand and holland and zeeland on the other, for the purposes of union and of driving out the foreigner. the religious question was left undecided, save that the northern provinces agreed to do nothing for the present against the roman church. but, as { } heretofore, the calvinists, now inscribing "pro fide et patria" on their banners, were the more active and patriotic party. [sidenote: don john, - ] on may , , the new governor-general, don john of austria, entered brussels. a natural son of charles v, at the age of twenty-four he had made himself famous by the naval victory of lepanto, and his name still more celebrated in popular legend on account of his innumerable amours. that he had some charm of manner must be assumed; that he had ability in certain directions cannot be denied; but his aristocratic hauteur, his contempt for a nation of merchants and his disgust at dealing with them, made him the worst possible person for the position of governor. philip's detailed instructions left nothing to the imagination: the gist of them was to assure the catholic religion and obedience of his subjects "as far as possible," to speak french, and not to take his mistresses from the most influential families, nor to alienate them in any other way. after force had been tried and failed the effect of gentleness was to be essayed. don john was to be a dove of peace and an angel of love. but even if a far abler man had been sent to heal the troubles in the netherlands, the breach was now past mending. in the states general, as in the nation at large, there were still two parties, one for orange and one for philip, but both were determined to get rid of the devilish incubus of the spanish army. the division of the two parties was to some extent sectional, but still more that class division that seems inevitable between conservatives and liberals. the king still had for him the clergy, the majority of the nobles and higher bourgeoisie; with william were ranged the calvinists, the middle and lower classes and most of the "intellectuals", lawyers, men of learning and those publicists known as the "monarchomachs." many of { } these were still catholics who wished to distinguish sharply between the religious and the national issue. at the very moment of don john's arrival the estates passed a resolution to uphold the catholic faith. [sidenote: february, ] even before he had entered his capital don john issued the "perpetual edict" agreeing to withdraw the spanish troops in return for a grant of , guilders for their pay. he promised to respect the privileges of the provinces and to free political prisoners, including the son of orange. in april the troops really withdrew. the small effect of these measures of conciliation became apparent when the estates general voted by a majority of one only to recognize don john as their statholder. [sidenote: may ] so little influence did he have that he felt more like a prisoner than a governor; he soon fled from his capital to the fortress of namur whence he wrote urging his king to send back the troops at once and let him "bathe in the blood of the traitors." william was as much pleased as john was enraged at the failure of the policy of reconciliation. while the majority of the states still hoped for peace william was determined on independence at all costs. in august he sent a demand to the representatives to do their duty by the people, for he did not doubt that they had the right to depose the tyrant. never did his prospects look brighter. help was offered by elizabeth and the tide of republican feeling began to rise higher. in proportion as the laborers were drawn to the party of revolt did the doctrine of the monarchomachs become liberal. no longer satisfied with the democracy of corporations and castes of the middle ages, the people began to dream of the individualistic democracy of modern times. the executive power, virtually abandoned by don john, now became centered in a committee of { } eighteen, nominally on fortifications, but in reality, like the french committee of public safety, supreme in all matters. this body was first appointed by the citizens of brussels, but the states general were helpless against it. it was supported by the armed force of the patriots and by the personal prestige of orange. his power was growing, for, with the capitulation of the spanish garrison at utrecht he had been appointed statholder of that province. when he entered brussels on september , he was received with the wild acclamations of the populace. opposition to him seemed impossible. and yet, even at this high-water mark of his power, his difficulties were considerable. each province was jealous of its rights and, as in the american revolution, each province wished to contribute as little as possible to the common fund. moreover the religious question was still extremely delicate. orange's permission to the catholics to celebrate their rites on his estates alienated as many protestant fanatics as it conciliated those of the old religion. [sidenote: archduke matthew] the netherlands were not yet strong enough to do without powerful foreign support, nor was public opinion yet ripe for the declaration of an independent republic. feeling that a statholder of some sort was necessary, the states general petitioned philip to remove don john and to appoint a legitimate prince of the blood. this petition was perhaps intentionally impossible of fulfilment in a way agreeable to philip, for he had no legitimate brother or son. but a prince of the house of hapsburg offered himself in the person of the archduke matthew, a son of the emperor maximilian, recently deceased. [sidenote: october , ] though he had neither ability of his own nor support from his brother, the emperor rudolph ii, and though but nineteen years old, he offered his services to the netherlands and immediately went thither. with high statecraft william { } drew matthew into his policy, for he saw that the dangers to be feared were anarchy and disunion. in some cities, notably ghent, where another committee of eighteen was appointed on the brussels model, the lowest classes assumed a dictatorship analagous to that of the bolsheviki in russia. at the same time the patriots' demand that orange should be made governor of brabant was distasteful to the large loyalist element in the population. william at once saw the use that might be made of matthew as a figure-head to rally those who still reverenced the house of hapsburg and who saw in monarchy the only guarantee of order at home and consideration abroad. promptly arresting the duke of aerschot, a powerful noble who tried to use matthew's name to create a separate faction, orange induced the states general first to decree don john an enemy of the country [sidenote: december , ] and then to offer the governorship of the netherlands to the archduke, at the same time begging him, on account of his youth, to leave the administration in the hands of william. after matthew's entry into brussels [sidenote: january , ] the states general swore allegiance to this puppet in the hands of their greatest statesman. almost immediately the war broke out again. both sides had been busy raising troops. at gembloux don john with , men defeated about the same number of patriot troops. [sidenote: january ] but this failed to clarify a situation that tended to become ever more complicated. help from england and france came in tiny dribblets just sufficient to keep philip's energies occupied in the cruel civil war. but the vacancy, so to speak, on the ducal throne of the burgundian state, seemed to invite the candidacy of neighboring princes and a chance of seriously interesting france came when the ambition of francis, duke of anjou, was stirred to become ruler of the low countries. william attempted also to make { } use of him. in return for the promise to raise , troops, anjou received from the states general the title of "defender of the freedom of the netherlands against the tyranny of the spaniards and their allies." the result was that the catholic population was divided in its support between matthew and anjou, and that orange retained the balance of influence. [sidenote: protestant schism] the insuperable difficulty in the way of success for the policy of this great man was still the religious one. calvinism had been largely drawn off to holland and zeeland, and catholicism remained the religion of the great majority of the population in the other provinces. at first sight the latter appeared far from being an intractable force. in contrast with the fiery zeal of the calvinists on the one hand and of the spaniards on the other, the faith of the catholic flemings and walloons seemed lukewarm, an old custom rather than a living conviction. most were shocked by the fanaticism of the spaniards, who thus proved the worst enemies of their faith, and yet, within the netherlands, they were very unwilling to see the old religion perish. when the lower classes at ghent assumed the leadership they rather forced than converted that city to the calvinist confession. their acts were taken as a breach of the pacification of ghent and threatened the whole policy of orange by creating fresh discord. to obviate this, william proposed to the states general a religious peace on the basis of the _status quo_ with refusal to allow further proselyting. [sidenote: july, ] but this measure, acceptable to the catholics, was deeply resented by the calvinists. it was said that one who changed his religion as often as his coat must prefer human to divine things and that he who would tolerate romanists must himself be an atheist. [sidenote: division of the netherlands] it was therefore, a primarily religious issue, and no difference of race, language or material interest, { } that divided the netherlands into two halves. for a time the common hatred of all the people for the foreigner welded them into a united whole; but no sooner was the pressure of the spanish yoke even slightly relaxed than the mutual antipathy of calvinist and catholic showed itself. if we look closely into the causes why the north should become predominantly protestant while the south gradually reverted to an entirely catholic faith, we must see that the reasons were in part racial, in part geographical and in part social. geographically and linguistically the northern provinces looked for their culture to germany, and the southern provinces to france. moreover the easy defensibility of holland and zeeland, behind their moats, made them the natural refuge of a hunted sect and, this tendency once having asserted itself, the polarization of the netherlands naturally followed, protestants being drawn and driven to their friends in the north and catholics similarly finding it necessary or advisable to settle in the south. moreover in the southern provinces the two privileged classes, clergy and nobility, were relatively stronger than in the almost entirely bourgeois and commercial north. and the influence of both was thrown into the scale of the roman church, the first promptly and as a matter of course, the second eventually as a reaction from the strongly democratic tendency of calvinism. in some of the southern cities there ensued at this time a desperate struggle between the protestant democracy and the catholic aristocracy. the few protestants of gentle birth in the walloon provinces felt ill at ease in company with their dutch co-religionists and were called by them "malcontents" because they looked askance at the political principles of the north. [sidenote: january ] the separatist tendencies on both sides crystallized as some of the southern provinces signed a league at { } arras on january for the protection of the catholic religion. on the th this was answered by the union of utrecht, signed by the representatives of holland, zeeland, utrecht, friesland, guelders, zutphen, and the city of ghent, binding the said provinces to resist all foreign tyranny. complete freedom of worship was granted, a matter of importance as the catholic minority was, and has always remained, large. by this act a new state was born. orange still continued to labor for union with the southern provinces, but he failed. a bitter religious war broke out in the cities of the south. at ghent the churches were plundered anew. [sidenote: ] at brussels and antwerp the protestant proletariat won a temporary ascendancy and catholic worship was forbidden in both cities. a general emigration from them ensued. under the stress of the religious war which was also a class war, the last vestiges of union perished. the states general ceased to have power to raise taxes or enforce decrees, and presently it was no more regarded. even william of orange now abandoned his show of respect for the monarch and became wholly the champion of liberty and of the people. [sidenote: ] the states general recognized anjou as their prince, but at the same time drew up a very republican constitution. the representatives of the people were given not only the legislative but also the executive powers, including the direction of foreign affairs. the states of the northern provinces formally deposed philip, [sidenote: deposition of philip, ] who could do nothing in reply. a proclamation had already been issued offering , dollars and a patent of nobility to anyone who would assassinate orange who was branded as "a traitor and rascal" and as "the enemy of the human race." [sidenote: october , ] don john, having died unlamented, was succeeded by alexander farnese, a son of the ex-regent margaret { } of parma. [sidenote: farnese, - ] though an italian in temperament he united a rare diplomatic pliability with energy as a soldier. moreover, whereas his predecessors had despised the people they were sent to govern and had hated the task of dealing with them, he set his heart on making a success. by this time the eyes of all europe were fixed on the struggle in the low countries and it seemed a worthy achievement to accomplish what so many famous soldiers and statesmen had failed in. it is doubtless due to the genius of farnese that the spanish yoke was again fixed on the neck of the southern of the two confederacies into which the burgundian state had spontaneously separated. welcomed by a large number of the signers of the treaty of arras, [sidenote: ] he promptly raised an army of , men, mostly germans, attacked and took maastricht. a sickening pillage followed in which no less than women were slaughtered. seeing his mistake, on capturing the next town, tournai, he restrained his army and allowed even the garrison to march out with the honors of war. not one citizen was executed, though an indemnity of , guilders was demanded. his clemency helped his cause more than his success in arms. [sidenote: conquest of the south] slowly but surely his campaign of conquest progressed. it was a war of sieges only, without battles. bruges was taken after a long investment, and was mildly treated. [sidenote: ] ghent surrendered and was also let off with an indemnity but without bloody punishment. after a hard siege antwerp capitulated. [sidenote: ] practically the whole of the southern confederacy had been reduced to obedience to the king of spain. the protestant religion was forbidden by law but in each case when a city was conquered the protestants were given from two to four years either to become reconciled or to emigrate. { } but the land that was reconquered was not the land that had revolted. a ghastly ruin accompanied by a numbing blight on thought and energy settled on the once happy lands of flanders and brabant. the civil wars had so wasted the country that wolves prowled even at the gates of great cities. the _coup de grace_ was given to the commerce of antwerp by the barring of the scheldt by holland. trade with the east and west indies was forbidden by spain until . [sidenote: freedom of the north] but the north, after a desperate struggle and much suffering, vindicated its freedom. anjou tried first to make himself their tyrant; [sidenote: january , ] his soldiers at antwerp attacked the citizens but were beaten off after frightful street fighting. the "french fury" as it was called, taught the dutch once again to distrust foreign governors, though the death of anjou relieved them of fear. [sidenote: june, ] but a sterner foe was at hand. having reduced what is now called belgium, farnese attacked the reformation and the republicans in their last strongholds in holland, zeeland, and utrecht. the long war, of a high technical interest because of the peculiar military problems to be solved, was finally decided in favor of the dutch. the result was due in part to the heroic courage of the people, in part to the highly defensible nature of their country, saved time and again by that great ally, the sea. [sidenote: july , ] a cruel blow was the assassination of orange whose last words were "god have pity on this poor people." his life had been devoted to them in no spirit of ambition or vulgar pride; his energy, his patience, his breadth had served the people well. and at his death they showed themselves worthy of him and of the cause. around his body the estates of holland convened and resolved to bear themselves manfully { } without abatement of zeal. right nobly did they acquit themselves. [sidenote: , leicester] the bad ending of a final attempt to get foreign help taught the dutch republic once and for all to rely only on itself. robert dudley, earl of leicester, elizabeth's favorite, was inaugurated as governor general. his assumption of independent power enraged his royal mistress, whereas the dutch were alienated by the suspicion that he sacrificed their interests to those of england, and by his military failures. in less than two years he was forced to return home. [sidenote: ] [sidenote: oldenbarneveldt, - ] under the statesmanlike guidance of john van oldenbarneveldt, since pensionary of holland, a republic was set up founded on the supremacy of the estates. under his exact, prudent, and resolute leadership internal freedom and external power were alike developed. though the war continued long after the defeat of the armada in that year crippled spain beyond hope of recovery and made the new nation practically safe. [sidenote: the dutch republic] the north had suffered much in the war. the frequent inundation of the land destroyed crops. amsterdam long held out against the rest of holland in loyalty to the king, but she suffered so much by the blockade of the beggars of the sea and by the emigration of her merchants to nearby cities, that at last she gave in and cast her lot with her people. from that time she assumed the commercial hegemony once exercised by antwerp. recovering rapidly from the devastations of war, the dutch republic became, in the seventeenth century, the first sea-power and first money-power in the world. she gave a king to england and put a bridle in the mouth of france. she established colonies in america and in the east indies. with her celebrated new university of leyden, with { } publicists like grotius, theologians like jansen, painters like van dyke and rembrandt, philosophers like spinoza, she took the lead in many of the fields of thought. her material and spiritual power, her tolerance and freedom, became the envy of the world. [ ] the guilder, also called the "dutch pound," at this time was worth cents intrinsically. money had many times the purchasing power that it has in . [ ] the word, meaning "prayer," indicated, like the english "benevolence" and the french "don gratuit," that the tax had once been voluntarily granted. [ ] the dollar, or thaler, is worth cents, intrinsically. { } chapter vi england section . henry viii and the national church. - [sidenote: henry viii, - ] "the heavens laugh, the earth exults; all is full of milk and honey and nectar." with these words the accession of henry viii was announced to erasmus by his pupil and the king's tutor, lord mountjoy. this lover of learning thought the new monarch would be not only octavus but octavius, fostering letters and cherishing the learned. there was a general feeling that a new era was beginning and a new day dawning after the long darkness of the middle age with its nightmares of black deaths and peasants' revolts and, worst of all, the civil war that had humbled england's power and racked her almost to pieces within. it was commonly believed that the young prince was a paragon: handsome, athletic, learned, generous, wise, and merciful. that he was fond of sports, strong and in early life physically attractive, is well attested. the principal evidences of his learning are the fulsome testimony of erasmus and his work against luther. but it has been lately shown that erasmus was capable of passing off, as the work of a powerful patron, compositions which he knew to be written by latin secretaries; and the royal author of the _defence of the seven sacraments_, which evinces but mediocre talent, received much unacknowledged assistance. if judged by his foreign relations henry's statesmanship was unsuccessful. his insincerity and perfidy often overreached themselves, and he was often { } deceived. moreover, he was inconstant, pursuing no worthy end whatever. england was by her insular location and by the nearly equal division of power on the continent between france and the emperor, in a wonderfully safe and advantageous place. but, so far was henry from using this gift of fortune, that he seems to have acted only on caprice. [sidenote: domestic policy] in domestic policy henry achieved his greatest successes, in fact, very remarkable ones indeed. doubtless here also he was favored by fortune, in that his own ends happened in the main to coincide with the deeper current of his people's purpose, for he was supported by just that wealthy and enterprising bourgeois class that was to call itself the people and to make public opinion for the next three centuries. in time this class would become sufficiently conscious of its own power to make parliament supreme and to demand a reckoning even from the crown, but at first it needed the prestige of the royal name to conquer the two privileged classes, the clergy and the nobility. the merchants and the moneyed men only too willingly became the faithful followers of a chief who lavishly tossed to them the wealth of the church and the political privileges of the barons. and henry had just one strong quality that enabled him to take full advantage of this position; he seemed to lead rather than to drive, and he never wantonly challenged parliament. the atrocity of his acts was only equaled by their scrupulous legality. on henry's morals there should be less disagreement than on his mental gifts. holbein's faithful portraits do not belie him. the broad-shouldered, heavy-jowled man, standing so firmly on his widely parted feet, has a certain strength of will, or rather of boundless egotism. francis and charles showed themselves persecuting, and were capable of having a { } defaulting minister or a rebel put to death; but neither charles nor francis, nor any other king in modern times, has to answer for the lives of so many nobles and ministers, cardinals and queens, whose heads, as thomas more put it, he kicked around like footballs. [sidenote: empson and dudley executed, april , ] the reign began, as it ended, with political murder. the miserly henry vii had made use of two tools, empson and dudley, who, by minute inquisition into technical offences and by nice adjustment of fines to the wealth of the offender, had made the law unpopular and the king rich. four days after his succession, henry viii issued a proclamation asking all those who had sustained injury or loss of goods by these commissioners, to make supplication to the king. the floodgates of pent-up wrath were opened, and the two unhappy ministers swept away by an act of attainder. [sidenote: war with france and scotland] the pacific policy of the first years of the reign did not last long. the young king felt the need of martial glory, of emulating the fifth henry, of making himself talked about and enrolling his name on the list of conquerors who, in return for plaguing mankind, have been deified by them. it is useless to look for any statesmanlike purpose in the war provoked with france and scotland, but in the purpose for which he set out henry was brilliantly successful: the french were so quickly routed near guinegate [sidenote: august , ] that the action has been known in history as the battle of the spurs. while the king was still absent in france and his queen regent in england, his lieutenants inflicted a decisive defeat on the scots [sidenote: september] and slew their king, james iv, at flodden. england won nothing save military glory by these campaigns, for the invasion of france was at once abandoned and that of scotland not even undertaken. [sidenote: wolsey, c. - ] the gratification of the national vanity redounded the profit not only of henry but of his minister, { } thomas wolsey. a poor man, like the other tools of the tudor despot, he rose rapidly in church and state partly by solid gifts of statesmanship, partly by baser arts. by may, , erasmus described him as all-powerful with the king and as bearing the main burden of public affairs on his shoulders, and fifteen years later luther spoke of him as "the demigod of england, or rather of europe." his position at home he owed to his ability to curry favor with the king by shouldering the odium of unpopular acts. [sidenote: may, ] when the duke of buckingham was executed for the crime of standing next in succession to the throne, wolsey was blamed; many people thought, as it was put in a pun attributed to charles v, that "it was a pity so noble a _buck_ should have been slain by such a hound." wolsey lost the support of the nobles by the pride that delighted to humble them, and of the commons by the avarice that accumulated a corrupt fortune. but, though the rich hated him for his law in regard to enclosures, and the poor for not having that law enforced, he recked little of aught, knowing himself secure under the royal shield. to make his sovereign abroad as great as at home, he took advantage of the nice balance of power existing on the continent. "nothing pleases him more than to be called the arbiter of christendom," wrote giustiniani, and such, in fact, he very nearly was. his diplomatic gifts were displayed with immense show during the summer of , when henry met both francis and charles v, and promised each secretly to support him against his rival. the camp where the royalties of france and england met, near guines, amid scenes of pageantry and chivalry so resplendent as to give it the name of the field of cloth of gold, saw an alliance cemented by oath, only to be followed by a solemn engagement between henry and charles, { } repugnant in every particular to that with france. when war actually broke out between the two, england preferred to throw her weight against france, thereby almost helping charles to the throne of universal empire and raising up for herself an enemy to menace her safety in many a crisis to come. in the end, then, wolsey's perfidious policy failed; and his personal ambition for the papacy was also frustrated. but while "the congress of kings," as erasmus called it, was disporting itself at guines and calais, the tide of a new movement was swiftly and steadily rising, no more obeying them than had the ocean obeyed canute. more in england than in most countries the reformation was an imported product. its "dawn came up like thunder" from across the north sea. luther's theses on indulgences were sent by erasmus to his english friends thomas more and john colet little more than four months after their promulgation. [sidenote: march , ] by february, , froben had exported to england a number of volumes of luther's works. one of them fell into the hands of henry viii or his sister mary, quondam queen of france, as is shown by the royal arms stamped on it. many others were sold by a bookseller at oxford throughout , in which year a government official in london wrote to his son in the country, [sidenote: march , ] "there be heretics here which take luther's opinions." the universities were both infected at the same time. at cambridge, especially, a number of young men, many of them later prominent reformers, met at the white horse tavern regularly to discuss the new ideas. the tavern was nicknamed "germany" [sidenote: ] and the young enthusiasts "germans" in consequence. but surprisingly numerous as are the evidences of the spread of lutheranism in these early years, naturally it as yet had few prominent adherents. when erasmus wrote luther that he had well-wishers { } [sidenote: may, ] in england, and those of the greatest, he was exaggerating or misinformed. at most he may have been thinking of john colet, whose death in september, , came before he could take any part in the religious controversy. at an early date the government took its stand against the heresy. luther's books were examined by a committee of the university of cambridge, [sidenote: ] condemned and burnt by them, and soon afterwards by the government. at st. paul's in london, [sidenote: may , ] in the presence of many high dignitaries and a crowd of thirty thousand spectators luther's books were burnt and his doctrine "reprobated" in addresses by john fisher, bishop of rochester, and cardinal wolsey. a little later it was forbidden to read, import or keep such works, and measures were taken to enforce this law. commissions searched for the said pamphlets; stationers and merchants were put under bond not to trade in them; and the german merchants of the steelyard were examined. when it was discovered [sidenote: ] that these foreigners had stopped "the mass of the body of christ," commonly celebrated by them in all hallows' church the great, at london, they were haled before wolsey's legatine court, forced to acknowledge its jurisdiction, and dealt with. with one accord the leading englishmen declared against luther. cuthbert tunstall, a mathematician and diplomatist, and later bishop of london, wrote wolsey from worms of the devotion of the germans to their leader, and sent to him _the babylonian captivity_ with the comment, "there is much strange opinion in it near to the opinions of boheme; i pray god keep that book out of england." [sidenote: january , ] wolsey himself, biassed perhaps by his ambition for the tiara, labored to suppress the heresy. most important of all, sir thomas more was promptly and decisively alienated. { } it was more, according to henry viii, who "by subtle, sinister slights unnaturally procured and provoked him" to write against the heretic. his _defence of the seven sacraments_, in reply to the _babylonian captivity_, though an extremely poor work, was greeted, on its appearance, as a masterpiece. [sidenote: july, ] the handsome copy bound in gold, sent to leo x, was read to the pope and declared by him the best antidote to heresy yet produced. in recognition of so valuable an arm, or of so valiant a champion, the pope granted an indulgence of ten years and ten periods of forty days to the readers of the book, and to its author the long coveted title defender of the faith. luther answered the king with ridicule and the controversy was continued by henry's henchmen more, fisher, and others. stung to the quick, henry, who had already urged the emperor to crush the heretic, now wrote with the same purpose to the elector and dukes of saxony and to other german princes. [sidenote: growth of lutheranism] but while the chief priests and rulers were not slow to reject the new "gospel," the common people heard it gladly. the rapid diffusion of lutheranism is proved by many a side light and by the very proclamations issued from time to time to "resist the damnable heresies" or to suppress tainted books. john heywood's _the four p's: a merry interlude of a palmer, a pardoner, a potycary and a pedlar_, written about though not published until some years later, is full of lutheran doctrine, and so is another book very popular at the time, simon fish's _supplication of beggars_. john skelton's _colyn clout_, [sidenote: c. ] a scathing indictment of the clergy, mentions that some have smacke of luther's sacke, and a brennyng sparke of luther's warke. { } [sidenote: william tyndale's bible] but the acceptance of the reformation, as apart from mere grumbling at the church, could not come until a protestant literature was built up. in england as elsewhere the most powerful protestant tract was the vernacular bible. owing to the disfavor in which wyclif's doctrines were held, no english versions had been printed until the protestant divine william tyndale highly resolved to make the holy book more familiar to the ploughboy than to the bishop. educated at both oxford and cambridge, tyndale imbibed the doctrines first of erasmus, then of luther, and finally of zwingli. applying for help in his project to the bishop of london and finding none, [sidenote: ] he sailed for germany where he completed a translation of the new testament, and started printing it at cologne. driven hence by the intervention of cochlaeus and the magistrates, he went to worms and got another printer to finish the job. [sidenote: ] of the six thousand copies in the first edition many were smuggled to england, where cuthbert tunstall, bishop of london, tried to buy them all up, "thinking," as the chronicler hall phrased it, "that he had god by the toe when he indeed had the devil by the fist." the money went to tyndale and was used to issue further editions, of which no less than seven appeared in the next ten years. the government's attitude was that having respect to the malignity of this present time, with the inclination of the people to erroneous opinions, the translation of the new testament should rather be the occasion of continuance or increase of errors among the said people than any benefit or commodity towards the weal of their souls. but the magistrates were unable to quench the fiery zeal of tyndale who continued to translate parts of the old testament and to print them and other tracts at antwerp and at cologne, until his martyrdom at { } vilvorde, near brussels, on october , . in a monument was erected on the place of his death. under the leadership of tyndale on the one side and of more on the other the air became dark with a host of controversial tracts. [sidenote: controversial tracts] they are half filled with theological metaphysic, half with the bitterest invective. luther called henry viii "a damnable and rotten worm, a snivelling, drivelling swine of a sophist"; more retorted by complaining of the violent language of "this apostate, this open incestuous lecher, this plain limb of the devil and manifest messenger of hell." absurd but natural tactic, with a sure effect on the people, which relishes both morals and scandal! to prove that faith justifies, the protestants pointed to the debauchery of the friars; to prove the mass a sacrifice their enemies mocked at "friar martin and gate callate his nun lusking together in lechery." but with all the invective there was much solid argument of the kind that appealed to an age of theological politics. in england as elsewhere the significance of the reformation was that it was the first issue of supreme importance to be argued by means of the press before the bar of a public opinion sufficiently enlightened to appreciate its importance and sufficiently strong to make a choice and to enforce its decision. the party of the reformation in england at first consisted of two classes, london tradesmen and certain members of what bismarck long afterward called "the learned proletariat." in the bishops were able to say: in the crime of heresy, thanked be god, there hath no notable person fallen in our time. truth it is that certain apostate friars and monks, lewd priests, bankrupt merchants, vagabonds and lewd, idle fellows of corrupt nature have embraced the abominable and erroneous { } opinions lately sprung in germany and by them have been some seduced in simplicity and ignorance. [sidenote: anti-clerical feeling] but though both anti-clerical feeling and sympathy with the new doctrines waxed apace, it is probable that no change would have taken place for many years had it not been for the king's divorce. the importance of this episode, born of the most strangely mingled motives of conscience, policy, and lust, is not that, as sometimes said, it proved the english people ready to follow their government in religious matters as sheep follow their shepherd. its importance is simply that it loosed england from its ancient moorings of papal supremacy, and thus established one, though only one, of the cardinal principles of the protestant revolt. the reformation consisted not only in a religions change but in an assertion of nationalism, in a class revolt, and in certain cultural revolutions. it was only the first that the government had any idea of sanctioning, but by so doing it enabled the people later to take matters into their own hands and add the social and cultural elements. thus the reformation in england ran a course quite different from that in germany. in the former the cultural revolution came first, followed fast by the rising of the lower and the triumph of the middle classes. last of all came the successful realization of a national state. but in england nationalism came first; then under edward the economic revolution; and lastly, under the puritans, the transmutation of spiritual values. [sidenote: divorce of catherine of aragon] the occasion of the breach with rome was the divorce of henry from catharine of aragon, who had previously married his brother arthur when they were both fifteen, and had lived with him as his wife for five months until his death. as marriage with a brother's widow was forbidden by canon law, a { } dispensation from the pope had been secured, to enable catharine to marry henry. the king's scruples about the legality of the act were aroused by the death of all the queen's children, save the princess mary, in which he saw the fulfilment of the curse denounced in leviticus xx, : "if a man shall take his brother's wife . . . they shall be childless." just at this time henry fell in love with anne boleyn, [sidenote: anne boleyn] and this further increased his dissatisfaction with his present estate. he therefore applied to the pope for annulment of marriage, but the unhappy clement vii, now in the emperor's fist, felt unable to give it to him. he writhed and twisted, dallied with the proposals that henry should take a second wife, or that his illegitimate son the duke of richmond should marry his half sister mary; in short he was ready to grant a dispensation for anything save for the one horrible crime of divorce--as the annulment was then called. his difficulties in getting at the rights of the question were not made easier by the readiness of both parties to commit a little perjury or to forge a little bull to further their cause. seeing no help in sight from rome henry began to collect the opinions of universities and "strange doctors." the english, french, and italian universities decided as the king wished that his marriage was null; wittenberg and marburg rendered contrary opinions. many theologians, including erasmus, luther, and melanchthon, expressed the opinion that bigamy would be the best way to meet the situation. but more was needed to make the annulment legal than the verdict of universities. repulsed by rome henry was forced to make an alliance, though it proved but a temporary one, with the reforming and anti-clerical parties in his realm. at easter, , lutheran books began to circulate at court, books { } advocating the confiscation of ecclesiastical property and the reduction of the church to a state of primitive simplicity. to chapuis, the imperial ambassador, henry pointedly praised luther, whom he had lately called "a wolf of hell and a limb of satan," remarking that though he had mixed heresy in his books that was not sufficient reason for reproving and rejecting the many truths he had brought to light. to punish wolsey for the failure to secure what was wanted from rome, [sidenote: november , ] the pampered minister was arrested for treason, but died of chagrin before he could be executed. "had i served my god," said he, "as diligently as i have served my king, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs." [sidenote: reformation parliament, november , ] in the meantime there had already met that parliament that was to pass, in the seven years of its existence, the most momentous and revolutionary laws as yet placed upon the statute-books. the elections were free, or nearly so; the franchise varied from a fairly democratic one in london to a highly oligarchical one in some boroughs. notwithstanding the popular feeling that catharine was an injured woman and that war with the empire might ruin the valuable trade with flanders, the "government," as would now be said, that is, the king, received hearty support by the majority of members. the only possible explanation for this, apart from the king's acknowledged skill as a parliamentary leader, is the strength of the anti-clerical feeling. the rebellion of the laity against the clergy, and of the patriots against the italian yoke, needed but the example of germany to burst all the dykes and barriers of medieval custom. the significance of the revolution was that it was a forcible reform of the church by the state. the wish of the people was to end ecclesiastical abuses without much regard to doctrine; the wish of the king was to make himself { } "emperor and pope" in his own dominions. while henry studied wyclif's program, and the people read the english testament, the lessons they derived from these sources were at first moral and political, not doctrinal or philosophic. [sidenote: submission of the clergy, december ] the first step in the reduction of the church was taken when the attorney-general filed in the court of king's bench an information against the whole body of the clergy for violating the statutes of provisors and praemunire by having recognized wolsey's legatine authority. of course there was no justice in this; the king himself had recognized wolsey's authority and anyone who had denied it would have been punished. but the suit was sufficient to accomplish the government's purposes, which were, first to wring money from the clergy and then to force them to declare the king "sole protector and supreme head of the church and clergy of england." reluctantly the convocation of canterbury accepted this demand in the form that the king was, "their singular protector, only and supreme lord and, as far as the law of christ allows, even supreme head." henry further proposed that the oaths of the clergy to the pope be abolished and himself made supreme legislator. [sidenote: may , ] convocation accepted this demand also in a document known as "the submission of the clergy." if such was the action of the spiritual estate, it was natural that the temporal peers and the commons in parliament should go much further. [sidenote: ] a petition of the commons, really emanating from the government and probably from thomas cromwell, complained bitterly of the tyranny of the ordinaries in ecclesiastical jurisdiction, of excessive fees and vexations and frivolous charges of heresy made against unlearned laymen. [sidenote: may ] abuses of like nature were dealt with in statutes limiting the fees exacted by priests and regulating { } pluralities and non-residence. annates were abolished with the proviso that the king might negotiate with the pope,--the intention of the government being thus to bring pressure to bear on the curia. no wonder the clergy were thoroughly frightened. bishop fisher, their bravest champion, protested in the house of lords: "for god's sake, see what a realm the kingdom of boheme was, and when the church fell down, there fell the glory of the kingdom. now with the commons is nothing but 'down with the church,' and all this meseemeth is for lack of faith only." [sidenote: marriage with anne boleyn] it had taken henry several years to prepare the way for his chief object, the divorce. his hand was at last forced by the knowledge that anne was pregnant; he married her on january , , without waiting for final sentence of annulment of marriage with catharine. in so doing he might seem, at first glance, to have followed the advice so freely tendered him to discharge his conscience by committing bigamy; but doubtless he regarded his first marriage as illegal all the time and merely waited for the opportunity to get a court that would so pronounce it. the vacancy of the archbishopric of canterbury enabled him to appoint to it thomas cranmer, [sidenote: cranmer] the obsequious divine who had first suggested his present plan. cranmer was a lutheran, so far committed to the new faith that he had married; he was intelligent, learned, a wonderful master of language, and capable at last of dying for his belief. but that he showed himself pliable to his master's wishes beyond all bounds of decency is a fact made all the more glaring by the firm and honorable conduct of more and fisher. his worst act was possibly on the occasion of his nomination to the province of canterbury; wishing to be confirmed by the pope he concealed his real views and took an oath of obedience to the holy see, having previously signed { } a protest that he considered the oath a mere form and not a reality. the first use he made of his position was to pronounce sentence that henry and catharine had never been legally married, though at the same time asserting that this did not affect the legitimacy of mary because her parents had believed themselves married. immediately afterwards it was declared that anne was a lawful wife, and she was crowned queen, [sidenote: ] amid the smothered execrations of the populace, on june . on september , the princess elizabeth was born. catharine's cause was taken up at rome; clement's brief forbidding the king to remarry was followed by final sentence in catharine's favor. her last years were rendered miserable by humiliation and acts of petty spite. when she died her late husband, with characteristic indecency, [sidenote: january ] celebrated the joyous event by giving a ball at which he and anne appeared dressed in yellow. [sidenote: march ] the feeling of the people showed itself in this case finer and more chivalrous than that prevalent at court. the treatment of catharine was so unpopular that chapuis wrote that the king was much hated by his subjects. [sidenote: january, ] resolved to make an example of the murmurers, the government selected elizabeth barton, the "holy maid of kent." after her hysterical visions and a lucky prophecy had won her an audience, she fell under the influence of monks and prophesied that the king would not survive his marriage with anne one month, and proclaimed that he was no longer king in the eyes of god. [sidenote: april , ] she and her accomplices were arrested, attainted without trial, and executed. she may pass as an english catholic martyr. [sidenote: act in restraint of appeals, february ] continuing its course of making the king absolute master the parliament passed an act in restraint of appeals, the first constitutional break with rome. { } the theory of the government was set forth in the preamble: whereas by divers sundry old authentic histories and chronicles, it is manifestly declared and expressed, that this realm of england is an empire, and so hath been accepted in the world, governed by one supreme head and king . . . unto whom a body politic compact of all sorts and degrees of people, divided in terms, and by names of spirituality and temporally, be bounden and ought to bear, next to god, a natural and humble obedience. . . . therefore all jurisdiction of foreign powers was denied. [sidenote: january , ] when, after a recess, parliament met again there were forty vacancies to be filled in the lower house, and this time care was taken that the new members should be well affected. scarcely a third of the spiritual lords assembled, though whether their absence was commanded, or their presence not required, by the king, is uncertain. as, in earlier parliaments, the spiritual peers had outnumbered the temporal, this was a matter of importance. another sign of the secularization of the government was the change in the character of the chancellors. wolsey was the last great ecclesiastical minister of the reign; more and cromwell who followed him were laymen. the severance with rome was now completed by three laws. in the first place the definite abolition of the annates meant that henceforth the election of archbishops and bishops must be under licence by the king and that they must swear allegiance to him before consecration. a second act forbade the payment of peter's pence and all other fees to rome, and vested in the archbishop of canterbury the right to grant licences previously granted by the pope. a third act, for the subjection of the clergy, put convocation under the royal power and forbade all privileges inconsistent with this. the new pope, paul iii, struck back, though { } with hesitation, excommunicating the king, [sidenote: - ] declaring all his children by anne boleyn illegitimate, and absolving his subjects from their oath of allegiance. [sidenote: ] two acts entrenched the king in his despotic pretensions. the act of succession, [sidenote: act of succession] notable as the first assertion by crown and parliament of the right to legislate in this constitutional matter, vested the inheritance of the crown in the issue of henry and anne, and made it high treason to question the marriage. the act of supremacy [sidenote: act of supremacy] declared that the king's majesty "justly and rightfully is and ought to be supreme head of the church of england," pointedly omitting the qualification insisted on by convocation,--"as far as the law of christ allows." exactly how far this supremacy went was at first puzzling. that it extended not only to the governance of the temporalities of the church, but to issuing injunctions on spiritual matters and defining articles of belief was soon made apparent; on the other hand the monarch never claimed in person the power to celebrate mass. that the abrogation of the papal authority was accepted so easily is proof of the extent to which the national feeling of the english church had already gone. an oath to recognize the supremacy of the king was tendered to both convocations, to the universities, to the clergy and to prominent laymen, and was with few exceptions readily taken. doubtless many swallowed the oath from mere cowardice; others took it with mental reservations; and yet that the majority complied shows that the substitution of a royal for a papal despotism was acceptable to the conscience of the country at large. many believed that they were not departing from the catholic faith; but that others welcomed the act as a step towards the reformation cannot be doubted. how strong was the hold of luther on the country will presently be shown, but here { } only one instance of the exuberance of the will for a purely national religion need be quoted. "god hath showed himself the god of england, or rather an english god," wrote hugh latimer, [sidenote: ] a leading lutheran; not only the church but the deity had become insular! [sidenote: fisher] but there were a few, and among them the greatest, who refused to become accomplices in the break with roman christendom. john fisher, bishop of rochester, a friend of erasmus and a man of admirable steadfastness, had long been horrified by the tyranny of henry. he had stoutly upheld the rightfulness of catharine's marriage, and now ho refused to see in the monarch the fit ruler of the church. so strongly did he feel on these subjects that he invited charles to invade england and depose the king. this was treason, though probably the government that sent him to the tower was ignorant of the act. when paul iii rewarded fisher by creating him a cardinal [sidenote: may , ] henry furiously declared he would send his head to rome to get the hat. [sidenote: june ] the old man of seventy-six was accordingly beheaded. [sidenote: sir thomas more executed, july ] this execution was followed by that of sir thomas more, the greatest ornament of his country. as more has been remembered almost entirely by his noble _utopia_ and his noble death, it is hard to estimate his character soberly. that his genius was polished to the highest perfection, that in a hard age he had an altogether lovely sympathy with the poor, and in a servile age the courage of his convictions, would seem enough to excuse any faults. but a deep vein of fanaticism ran through his whole nature and tinctured all his acts, political, ecclesiastical, and private. not only was his language violent in the extreme, but his acts were equally merciless when his passions were aroused. appointed chancellor after the fall of wolsey, he did not scruple to hit the man who was down, describing { } him, in a scathing speech in parliament, as the scabby wether separated by the careful shepherd from the sound sheep. in his hatred of the new opinions he not only sent men to death and torture for holding them, but reviled them while doing it. "heretics as they be," he wrote, "the clergy doth denounce them. and as they be well worthy, the temporality doth burn them. and after the fire of smithfield, hell doth receive them, where the wretches burn for ever." as chancellor he saw with growing disapproval the course of the tyrant. he opposed the marriage with anne boleyn. the day after the submission of the clergy he resigned the great seal. he could not long avoid further offence to his master, and his refusal to take the oath of supremacy was the crime for which he was condemned. his behaviour during his last days and on the scaffold was perfect. he spent his time in severe self-discipline; he uttered eloquent words of forgiveness of his enemies, messages of love to the daughter whom he tenderly loved, and brave jests. [sidenote: anabaptist martyrs, ] but while more's passion was one that any man might envy, his courage was shared by humbler martyrs. in the same year in which he was beheaded thirteen dutch anabaptists were burnt, as he would have approved, by the english government. mute, inglorious christs, they were led like sheep to the slaughter and as lambs dumb before their shearers. they had no eloquence, no high position, to make their words ring from side to side of europe and echo down the centuries; but their meek endurance should not go unremembered. to take more's place as chief minister henry appointed the most obsequious tool he could find, thomas cromwell. [sidenote: thomas cromwell, ?- ] to good purpose this man had studied machiavelli's _prince_ as a practical manual of tyranny. his most important service to the crown was the { } next step in the reduction of the medieval church, the dissolution of the monasteries. [sidenote: dissolution of the monasteries] like other acts tending towards the reformation this was, on the whole, popular, and had been rehearsed on a small scale on several previous occasions in english history. the pope and the king of france taught edward ii to dissolve the preceptories, to the number of twenty-three, belonging to the templars; in the commons petitioned for the confiscation of all church property; in the alien priories in england fell under the animadversion of the government; their property was handed over to the crown and they escaped only by the payment of heavy fines, by incorporation into english orders, and by partial confiscation of their land. the idea prevailed that mortmain had failed of its object and that therefore the church might rightfully be relieved of her ill-gotten gains. these were grossly exaggerated, a pamphleteer believing that the wealth of the church amounted to half the property of the realm. in reality the total revenue of the spirituality amounted to only l , ; that of the monasteries to only l , . there had been few endowments in the fifteenth century; only eight new ones, in fact, in the whole period - . colleges, schools, and hospitals now attracted the money that had previously gone to the monks. moreover, the monastic life had fallen on evil days. the abbeys no longer were centers of learning and of the manufacture of books. the functions of hospitality and of charity that they still exercised were not sufficient to redeem them in the eyes of the people for the "gross, carnal, and vicious living" with which they were commonly and quite rightly charged. visitations undertaken not by hostile governments but by bishops in the fifteenth century prove that much immorality obtained within the cloister walls. by { } they had become so intolerable that a popular pamphleteer, simon fish, in his _supplication of beggars_, proposed that the mendicant friars be entirely suppressed. [sidenote: january , ] a commission was now issued to thomas cromwell, empowering him to hold a general visitation of all churches, monasteries, and collegiate bodies. the evidence gathered of the shocking disorders obtaining in the cloisters of both sexes is on the whole credible and well substantiated. nevertheless these disorders furnished rather the pretext than the real reason for the dissolutions that followed. cromwell boasted that he would make his king the richest in christendom, and this was the shortest and most popular way to do it. [sidenote: ] accordingly an act was passed for the dissolution of all small religious houses with an income of less than l a year. the rights of the founders were safe-guarded, and pensions guaranteed to those inmates who did not find shelter in one of the larger establishments. by this act houses were dissolved with an aggregate revenue of l , , not counting plate and jewels confiscated. two thousand monks or nuns were affected in addition to about eight thousand retainers or servants. the immediate effect was a large amount of misery, but the result in the long run was good. perhaps the principal political importance of this and the subsequent spoliations of the church was to make the reformation profitable and therefore popular with an enterprising class. for the lion's share of the prey did not go to the lion, but to the jackals. from the king's favorites to whom he threw the spoils was founded a new aristocracy, a class with a strong vested interest in opposing the restoration of the papal church. to the protestant citizens of london was now added a protestant landed gentry. { } [sidenote: union with wales, ] before the "reformation parliament" had ceased to exist, one more act of great importance was passed. wales was a wild country, imperfectly governed by irregular means. by the first act of union in british history, wales was now incorporated with england and the anomalies, or distinctions, in its legal and administrative system, wiped out. by severe measures, in the course of which men were sent to the gallows, the western mountaineers were reduced to order during the years - ; and in their union with england was completed. the measure was statesmanlike and successful; it was undoubtedly aided by the loyalty of the welsh to their own tudor dynasty. [sidenote: april , ] when parliament dissolved after having accomplished, during its seven years, the greatest permanent revolution in the history of england, it had snapped the bands with rome and determined articles of religious belief; it had given the king more power in the church than the pope ever had, and had exalted his prerogative in the state to a pitch never reached before or afterwards; it had dissolved the smaller monasteries, abridged the liberties of the subject, settled the succession to the throne, created new treasons and heresies; it had handled grave social problems, like enclosures and mendicancy; and had united wales to england. [sidenote: execution of anne boleyn] and now the woman for whose sake, one is tempted to say, the king had done it all--though of course his share in the revolution does not represent the real forces that accomplished it--the woman he had won with "such a world of charge and hell of pain," was to be cast into the outer darkness of the most hideous tragedy in history. anne boleyn was not a good woman. and yet, when she was accused of adultery [sidenote: may , ] with four men and of incest with her own brother, { } though she was tried by a large panel of peers, condemned, and beheaded, it is impossible to be sure of her guilt. [sidenote: jane seymour] on the day following anne's execution or, as some say, on may , henry married his third wife, jane seymour. on october , , she bore him a son, edward. forced by her husband to take part in the christening, an exhausting ceremony too much for her strength, she sickened and died soon afterwards. [sidenote: lutheran tracts] in the meantime the lutheran movement was growing apace in england. in the last two decades of henry's reign seven of luther's tracts and some of his hymns were translated into english. five of the tracts proved popular enough to be reprinted. one of them was _the liberty of a christian man_, turned into english by john tewkesbury whom, having died for his faith, more called "a stinking martyr." the hymns and some of the other tracts were englished by miles coverdale. in addition to this there was translated an account of luther's death in , the augsburg confession and four treatises of melanchthon, and one each of zwingli, oecolampadius and bullinger,--this last reprinted. of course these versions are not a full measure of lutheran influence, but a mere barometer. the party now numbered powerful preachers like latimer and ridley; thomas cranmer the archbishop of canterbury and thomas cromwell, since may, , the king's principal secretary. the adherence of the last named to the reforming party is perhaps the most significant sign of the times. as his only object was to be on the winning side, and as he had not a bit of real religious interest, it makes it all the more impressive that, believing the cat was about to jump in the direction of lutheranism, he should have tried to put himself in the line of its trajectory { } by doing all he could to foster the reformers at home and the protestant alliance abroad. [sidenote: coverdale, ?- ] one of the decisive factors in the reformation again proved to be the english bible, completed, after the end of tyndale's labors by a man of less scholarship but equally happy mastery of language, miles coverdale. of little original genius, he spent his life largely in the labor of translating tracts and treatises by the german reformers into his native tongue. [sidenote: the english bible, ] his first great work was the completion of the english bible which was published by christopher froschauer of zurich in , the title-page stating that it had been translated "out of douche and latyn"--the "douche" being, of course, luther's german version. for the new testament and for the old testament as far as the end of chronicles, tyndale's version was used; the rest was by coverdale. the work was dedicated to the king, and, as cromwell had already been considering the advisability of authorizing the english bible, this was not an unwelcome thing. but as the government was as yet unprepared to recognize work avowedly based on german protestant versions, [sidenote: ] they resorted to the device of re-issuing the bible with the name of thomas matthew as translator, though in fact it consisted entirely of the work of tyndale and coverdale. [sidenote: - ] a light revision of this work was re-issued as the great bible, [sidenote: october , ] and injunctions were issued by cromwell ordering a bible of the largest size to be set up in every church, and the people to be encouraged to read it. they were also to be taught the lord's prayer and creed in english, spiritual sermons were to be preached, and superstitions, such as going on pilgrimages, burning candles to saints, and kissing and licking relics, were to be discouraged. at the same time cromwell diligently sought a _rapprochement_ with the german protestants. the idea { } was an obvious one that, having won the enmity of charles, england should support his dangerous intestine enemies, the schmalkaldic princes. in that day of theological politics it was natural to try to find cement for the alliance in a common confession. embassy after embassy made pilgrimages to wittenberg, where the envoys had long discussions with the reformers [sidenote: january, ] both about the divorce and about matters of faith. they took back with them to england, together with a personal letter from luther to cromwell, [sidenote: april] a second opinion unfavorable to the divorce and a confession drawn up in seventeen articles. in this, though in the main it was, as it was called, "a repetition and exegesis of the augsburg confession," considerable concessions were made to the wishes of the english. melanchthon was the draughtsman and luther the originator of the articles. this symbol now became the basis of the first definition of faith drawn up by the government. some such statement was urgently needed, for, amid the bewildering acts of the reformation parliament, the people hardly knew what the king expected them to believe. the king therefore presented to convocation a book of articles of faith and ceremonies, [sidenote: july the book of articles] commonly called the ten articles, drafted by fox on the basis of the memorandum he had received at wittenberg, in close substantial and frequently in verbal agreement with it. by this confession the bible, the three creeds, and the acts of the first four councils were designated as authoritative; the three lutheran sacraments of baptism, penance, and the altar were retained; justification by faith and good works jointly was proclaimed; the use of images was allowed and purgatory disallowed; the real presence in the sacrament was strongly affirmed. the significance of the articles, however, is not so much their lutheran provenance, as in their promulgation { } by the crown. it was the last step in the enslavement of religion. "this king," as luther remarked, "wants to be god. he founds articles of faith, which even the pope never did." [sidenote: the pilgrimage of grace] it only remained to see what the people would say to the new order. within a few months after the dissolution of the reformation parliament and the publication of the ten articles, the people in the north spread upon the page of history an extremely emphatic protest. for this is really what the pilgrimage of grace was--not a rebellion against king, property, or any established institution, but a great demonstration against the policy for which cromwell became the scapegoat. in those days of slow communication opinions travelled on the beaten roads of commerce. as late as mary's reign there is proof that protestantism was confined to the south, east, and midlands,--roughly speaking to a circle with london as its center and a radius of one hundred miles. in these earlier years, protestant opinion was probably even more confined; london was both royalist and anti-roman catholic; the ports on the south-eastern coast, including calais, at that time an english station in france, and the university towns had strong lutheran and still stronger anti-clerical parties. but in the wilds of the north and west it was different. there, hardly any bourgeois class of traders existed to adopt "the religion of merchants" as protestantism has been called. perhaps more important was the mere slowness of the diffusion of ideas. the good old ways were good enough for men who never knew anything else. the people were discontented with the high taxes, and the nobles, who in the north retained feudal affections if not feudal power, were outraged by the ascendency in the royal councils of low-born upstarts. moreover, it seems that the clergy { } were stronger in the north even before the inroads of the new doctrines. in the suppression of the lesser monasteries yorkshire, the largest county in england, had lost the most foundations, in all, and lincolnshire the next most, . irritation at the suppression itself was greatly increased among the clergy by the insolence and thoroughness of the visitation, in which not only monasteries but parish priests had been examined. in resisting the king in the name of the church the priests had before them the example of the most popular english saint, thomas becket. they were the real fomenters of the demonstration, and the gentlemen, not the people, its leaders. rioting began in lincolnshire on october , , and before the end of the month , men had joined the movement. a petition to the king was drawn up demanding that the church holidays be kept as before, that the church be relieved of the payment of first-fruits and tithes, that the suppressed houses be restored except those which the king "kept for his pleasure only," that taxes be reduced and some unpopular officials banished. henry thundered an answer in his most high and mighty style: "how presumptuous then are ye, the rude commons of one shire, and that one of the most brute and beastly of the whole realm, and of least experience to find fault with your prince in the electing of his councillors and prelates!" he at once dispatched an army with orders "to invade their countries, to burn, spoil and destroy their goods, wives and children." [sidenote: march ] repression of the rising in lincolnshire was followed by the execution of forty-six leaders. but the movement had promptly spread to yorkshire, where men gathered as for a peaceable demonstration, [sidenote: october ] and swore not to enter "this pilgrimage of grace for the commonwealth, save only for the { } maintenance of god's faith and church militant, preservation of the king's person, and purifying the nobility of all villein's blood and evil counsellors, to the restitution of christ's church and the suppression of heretics' opinions." in yorkshire it was feared that the money extorted from the abbeys was going to london; and that the new treason's acts would operate harshly. cumberland and westmoreland soon joined the rising, their special grievance being the economic one of the rise of rents, or rather of the heavy fines exacted by landlords on the renewal of leases. an army of , was raised by the insurgents but their leader, robert aske, did not wish to fight, though he was opposed by only , royal troops. he preferred a parley and demanded, in addition to a free pardon, the acceptance of the northern demands, the summons of a free parliament, the restoration of the papal supremacy as touching the cure of souls, and the suppression of the books of tyndale, huss, luther, and melanchthon. the king invited aske to a personal interview, and promised to accede to the demand for a parliament if the petitioners would disperse. an act of violence on a part of a few of the northerners was held to absolve the government, and henry, having gathered his forces, demanded, and secured, a "dreadful execution" of vengeance. though the pilgrimage of grace had some effect in warning henry not to dabble in foreign heresies, the policy he had most at heart, that of making himself absolute in state and church, went on apace. the culmination of the growth of the royal power is commonly seen in the statute of proclamations [sidenote: statute of proclamations, ] apparently giving the king's proclamations the same validity as law save when they touched the lives, liberty, or property of subjects or were repugnant to existing statutes. probably, however, the intent of parliament was not { } to confer new powers on the crown but to regulate the enforcement of already existing prerogatives. as a matter of fact no proclamations were issued during the last years of henry's reign that might not have been issued before. but the reform of the church by the government, in morals and usages, not in doctrine, proceeded unchecked. the larger monasteries had been falling into the king's hands by voluntary surrender ever since ; a new visitation and a new act for the dissolution [sidenote: ] of the greater monasteries completed the process. [sidenote: war on relics] an iconoclastic war was now begun not, as in other countries, by the mob, but by the government. relics like the blood of hailes were destroyed, and the rood of boxley, a crucifix mechanically contrived so that the priests made it nod and smile or shake its head and frown according to the liberality of its worshipper, was taken down and the mechanism exposed in various places. at walsingham in norfolk was a nodding image of the virgin, a bottle of her milk, still liquid, and a knuckle of st. peter. the shrine, ranking though it did with loretto and compostella in popular veneration, was now destroyed. with much zest the government next attacked the shrine of st. thomas becket at canterbury, thus revenging the humiliation of another henry at the hands of the church. the martyr was now declared to be a rebel who had fled from the realm. [sidenote: ] the definition of doctrine, coupled with negotiations with the schmalkaldic princes, continued briskly. the project for an alliance came to nothing, for john frederic of saxony wrote that god would not allow them to have communication with henry. two embassies to england engaged in assiduous, but fruitless, theological discussion. henry himself, with the aid of cuthbert tunstall, drew up a long statement "against { } the opinions of the germans on the sacrament in both kinds, private masses, and sacerdotal marriage." the reactionary tendency of the english is seen in the _institution of the christian man_, [sidenote: definitions of faith] published with royal authority, and still more in the act of the six articles. [sidenote: ] in the former the four sacraments previously discarded are again "found." [sidenote: ] in the latter, transubstantiation is affirmed, the doctrine of communion in both kinds branded as heresy, the marriage of priests declared void, vows of chastity are made perpetually binding, private masses and auricular confessions are sanctioned. denial of transubstantiation was made punishable by the stake and forfeiture of goods; those who spoke against the other articles were declared guilty of felony on the second offence. this act, officially entitled "for abolishing diversity in opinions" was really the first act of uniformity. it was carried by the influence of the king and the laity against the parties represented by cromwell and cranmer. it ended the plans for a schmalkaldic alliance. [sidenote: july , ] luther thanked god that they were rid of that blasphemer who had tried to enter their league but failed. by a desperate gamble cromwell now tried to save what was left of his pro-german policy. duke william of cleves-jülich-berg had adopted an erasmian compromise between lutheranism and romanism, in some respects resembling the course pursued by henry. in this direction cromwell accordingly next turned and induced his master to contract a marriage with anne, [sidenote: january , ] the duke's sister. as henry had offered to the european audience three tragedies in his three former marriages, he now, in true greek style, presented in his fourth a farce or "satyric drama." the monarch did not like his new wife in the least, and found means of ridding himself of her more speedily than was usual even with him. having shared her bed for six months { } he divorced her on the ground that the marriage had not been consummated. [sidenote: july , ] the ex-queen continued to live as "the king's good sister" with a pension and establishment of her own, but cromwell vicariously expiated her failure to please. he was attainted, without trial, for treason, and speedily executed. [sidenote: bluebeard's wives] on the same day henry married catharine howard, a beautiful girl selected by the catholics to play the same part for them that anne boleyn had played for the lutherans, and who did so more exactly than her backers intended. like her predecessor she was beheaded for adultery on february , . on july , , bluebeard concluded his matrimonial adventures by taking catharine parr, a lady who, like sieyès after the terror, must have congratulated herself on her rare ability in surviving. [sidenote: catholic reaction] as a catholic reaction marked the last eight years of henry's reign, it may perhaps be well to say a few words about the state of opinion in england at that time. the belief that the whole people took their religion with sheepish meekness from their king is too simple and too dishonorable to the national character to be believed. that they _appeared_ to do this is really a proof that parties were nearly divided. just as in modern times great issues are often decided in general elections by narrow majorities, so in the sixteenth century public opinion veered now this way, now that, in part guided by the government, in part affecting it even when the channels by which it did so are not obvious. we must not imagine that the people took no interest in the course of affairs. on the contrary the burning issues of the day were discussed in public house and marketplace with the same vivacity with which politics are now debated in the new england country store. "the word of god was disputed, rhymed, sung and jangled in every alehouse and { } tavern," says a contemporary state paper. in private, graver men argued with the high spirit reflected in more's dialogues. four parties may be plainly discerned. first and most numerous were the strict anglicans, orthodox and royalist, comprising the greater part of the crown-loving, priest-hating and yet, in intellectual matters, conservative common people. secondly, there were the pope's followers, still strong in numbers especially among the clergy and in the north. their leaders were among the most high-minded of the nation, but were also the first to be smitten by the king's wrath which, as his satellites were always repeating in latin proverb, meant death. such men were more and fisher and the london carthusians executed in for refusing the oath of supremacy. third, there were the lutherans, an active and intelligent minority of city merchants and artisans, led by men of conspicuous talents and generally of high character, like coverdale, kidley, and latimer. with these leaders were a few opportunists like cranmer and a few machiavellians like cromwell. lastly there was a very small contingent of extremists, zwinglians and anabaptists, all classed together as blasphemers and as social agitators. their chief notes were the variety of their opinions and the unanimity of their persecution by all other parties. some of them were men of intelligible social and religious tenets; others furnished the "lunatic fringe" of the reform movement. the proclamation banishing them from england [sidenote: ] on pain of death merely continued the previous practice of the government. the fall of the cromwell ministry, if it may be so termed by modern analogy, was followed by a government in which henry acted as his own prime minister. { } he had made good his boast that if his shirt knew his counsel he would strip it off.[ ] two of his great ministers he had cast down for being too catholic, one for being too protestant. having procured laws enabling him to burn romanists as traitors and lutherans as heretics, he established a régime of pure anglicanism, the only genuine anglican catholicism, however much it may have been imitated in after centuries, that ever existed. [sidenote: anti-protestant measures] measures were at once taken towards suppressing the protestants and their bible. one of the first martyrs was robert barnes, a personal friend of luther. much stir was created by the burning, some years later, of a gentlewoman named anne askewe and of three men, at smithfield. the revulsion naturally caused by this cruelty prepared the people for the protestant rule of edward. the bible was also attacked. the translation of was examined by convocation in and criticized for not agreeing more closely with the latin. in all marginal notes were obliterated and the lower classes forbidden to read the bible at all. henry's reign ended as it began with war on france and scotland, but with little success. the government was put to dire straits to raise money. a forced loan of per cent. on property was exacted in and repudiated by law the next year. an income tax rising from four pence to two shillings in the pound on goods and from eight pence to three shillings on revenue from land, was imposed. crown lands were sold or mortgaged. the last and most disastrous expedient was the debasement of the coinage, the old equivalent of the modern issue of irredeemable paper. as a consequence of this prices rose enormously. [ ] the metaphor came from erasmus, _de lingua_, , _opera_, iv, , where the words are attributed to caecilius metellus. { } section . the reformation under edward vi. - [sidenote: accession of edward vi, january , ] the real test of the popularity of henry's double revolution, constitutional and religious, came when england was no longer guided by his strong personality, but was ruled by a child and governed by a weak and shifting regency. it is significant that, whereas the prerogative of the crown was considerably relaxed, though substantially handed on to edward's stronger successors, the reformation proceeded at accelerated pace. [sidenote: somerset regent] henry himself, not so much to insure further change as to safeguard that already made, appointed reformers as his son's tutors and made the majority of the council of regency protestant. the young king's maternal uncle, edward seymour, earl of hertford, was chosen by the council as protector and created duke of somerset. [sidenote: ] mildness was the characteristic of his rule. he ignored henry's treason and heresy acts even before they had been repealed. [sidenote: repeal of treason and heresy laws] the first general election was held with little government interference. parliament may be assumed to have expressed the will of the nation when it repealed henry's treason and heresy laws, the ancient act _de haeretico comburendo_, the act of the six articles, and the statute of proclamations. to ascertain exactly what, at a given time, is the "public opinion" of a political group, is one of the most difficult tasks of the historian.[ ] even nowadays it is certain that the will of the majority is frequently not reflected either in the acts of the legislature or in the newspaper press. it cannot even be said that the wishes of the majority are always public opinion. in expressing the voice of the people there is generally some section more vocal, more powerful on account { } of wealth or intelligence, and more deeply in earnest than any other; and this minority, though sometimes a relatively small one, imposes its will in the name of the people and identifies its voice with the voice of god. [sidenote: protestant public opinion] therefore, when we read the testimony of contemporaries that the majority of england was still catholic by the middle of the sixteenth century, a further analysis of popular opinion must be made to account for the apparently spontaneous rush of the reformation. some of these estimates are doubtless exaggerations, as that of paget who wrote in that eleven englishmen out of twelve were catholics. but conceding, as we must, that a considerable majority was still anti-protestant, it must be remembered that this majority included most of the indifferent and listless and almost all those who held their opinions for no better reason than they had inherited them and refused the trouble of thinking about them. nearly the solid north and west, the country districts and the unrepresented and mute proletariat of the cities, counted as catholic but hardly counted for anything else. the commercial class of the towns and the intellectual class, which, though relatively small, then as now made public opinion as measured by all ordinary tests, was predominantly and enthusiastically protestant. if we analyse the expressed wishes of england, we shall find a mixture of real religious faith and of worldly, and sometimes discreditable, motives. a new party always numbers among its constituency not only those who love its principles but those who hate its opponents. with the protestants were a host of allies varying from those who detested rome to those who repudiated all religion. moreover every successful party has a number of hangers-on for the sake of political spoils, and some who follow its fortunes { } with no purpose save to fish in troubled waters. but whatever their constituency or relative numbers, the protestants now carried all before them. in the free religious debate that followed the death of henry, the press teemed with satires and pamphlets, mostly protestant. from foreign parts flocked allies, while the native stock of literary ammunition was reinforced by german and swiss books. in the reign of edward there were three new translations of luther's books, five of melanchthon's, two of zwingli's, two of oecolampadius's, three of bullinger's and four of calvin's. many english religious leaders were in correspondence with bullinger, many with calvin, and some with melanchthon. among the prominent european protestants called to england during this reign were bucer and fagius of germany, peter martyr and bernardino ochino of italy, and the pole john laski. the purification of the churches began promptly. [sidenote: ] images, roods and stained glass windows were destroyed, while the buildings were whitewashed on the inside, properly to express the austerity of the new cult. evidence shows that these acts, countenanced by the government, were popular in the towns but not in the country districts. [sidenote: book of common prayer, ] next came the preparation of an english liturgy. the first book of common prayer was the work of cranmer. many things in it, including some of the most beautiful portions, were translations from the roman breviary; but the high and solemn music of its language must be credited to the genius of its translator. just as the english bible popularized the reformation, so the english prayer book strengthened and broadened the hold of the anglican church. doctrinally, it was a compromise between romanism, lutheranism and calvinism. its use was enforced by the act of uniformity, [sidenote: ] { } the first and mildest of the statutes that bore that name. though it might be celebrated in greek, latin or hebrew as well as in english, priests using any other service were punished with loss of benefices and imprisonment. at this time there must have been an unrecorded struggle in the council of regency between the two religious parties, followed by the victory of the innovators. [sidenote: end of ] the pace of the reformation was at once increased; between and england gave up most of what was left of distinctively medieval catholicism. for one thing, the marriage of priests was now legalized. [sidenote: accelerated reformation] that public opinion was hardly prepared for this as yet is shown by the act itself in which celibacy of the clergy is declared to be the better condition, and marriage only allowed to prevent vice. the people still regarded priests' wives much as concubines and the government spoke of clergymen as "sotted with their wives and children." there is one other bit of evidence, of a most singular character, showing that this and subsequent acts of uniformity were not thoroughly enforced. the test of orthodoxy came to be taking the communion occasionally according to the anglican rite. this was at first expected of everyone and then demanded by law; but the law was evaded by permitting a conscientious objector to hire a substitute to take communion for him. in the prayer book was revised in a protestant sense. bucer had something to do with this revision, and so did john knox. little was now left of the mass, nothing of private confession or anointing the sick. further steps were the reform of the canon law and the publication of the forty-two articles of religion. these were drawn up by cranmer on the basis of thirteen articles agreed upon by a conference of three english bishops, four english doctors, and two german missionaries, boyneburg and myconius, in { } may, . cranmer hoped to make his statement irenic; and in fact it contained some roman and calvinistic elements, but in the main it was lutheran. justification by faith was asserted; only two sacraments were retained. transubstantiation was denounced as repugnant to scripture and private masses as "dangerous impostures." the real presence was maintained in a lutheran sense: the bread was said to be the body of christ, and the wine the blood of christ, but only after a heavenly and spiritual manner. it was said that by christ's ordinance the sacrament is not reserved, carried about, lifted up, or worshipped. a reform of the clergy was also undertaken, and was much needed. in bishop hooper found in his diocese of clergymen, could not repeat the ten commandments, ten could not say the lord's prayer in english, seven could not tell who was its author, and sixty-two were absentees, chiefly because of pluralities. the notable characteristic of the edwardian reformation was its mildness. there were no catholic martyrs. it is true that heretics coming under the category of blasphemers or deniers of christianity could still be put to death by common law, and two men were actually executed for speculations about the divinity of christ, but such cases were wholly exceptional. [sidenote: social disorders] the social disorders of the time, coming to a head, seemed to threaten england with a rising of the lower classes similar to the peasants' war of in germany. the events in england prove that, however much these ebullitions might be stimulated by the atmosphere of the religious change, they wore not the direct result of the new gospel. in the west of england and in oxfordshire the lower classes rebelled { } under the leadership of catholic priests; in the east the rising, known as kett's rebellion, took on an anabaptist character. the real causes of discontent were the same in both cases. the growing wealth of the commercial classes had widened the gap between rich and poor. the inclosures continued to be a grievance, by the ejection of small tenants and the appropriation of common lands. but by far the greatest cause of hardship to the poor was the debasement of the coinage. wheat, barley, oats and cattle rose in price to two or three times their previous cost, while wages, kept down by law, rose only per cent. no wonder that the condition of the laborer had become impossible. the demands of the eastern rising, centering at norwich, bordered on communism. the first was for the enfranchisement of all bondsmen for the reason that christ had made all men free. inclosures of commons and private property in game and fish were denounced and further agrarian demands were voiced. the rebels committed no murder and little sacrilege, but vented their passions by slaughtering vast numbers of sheep. all the peasant risings were suppressed by the government, and the economic forces continued to operate against the wasteful agricultural system of the time and in favor of wool-growing and manufacture. [sidenote: execution of somerset, january , ] after five years under protector somerset there was a change of government signalized, as usual under henry viii, by the execution of the resigning minister. somerset suffered from the unpopularity of the new religious policy in some quarters and from that following the peasants' rebellion in others. as usual, the government was blamed for the economic evils of the time and for once, in having debased the coinage, justly. moreover the protector had been { } involved by scheming rivals in the odium more than in the guilt of fratricide, for this least bloody of all english ministers in that century, had executed his brother, thomas, baron seymour, a rash and ambitious man rightly supposed to be plotting his own advancement by a royal marriage. among the leaders of the reformation belonging to the class of mere adventurers, john dudley, earl of warwick, was the ablest and the worst. as the protector held quasi-royal powers, he could only be deposed by using the person of the young king. warwick ingratiated himself with edward and brought the child of thirteen to the council. of course he could only speak what was taught him, but the name of royalty had so dread a prestige that none dared disobey him. at his command warwick was created duke of northumberland, [sidenote: northumberland and suffolk] and his confederate, henry grey marquis of dorset, was created duke of suffolk. a little later these men, again using the person of the king, had somerset tried and executed. the conspirators did not long enjoy their triumph. while edward lived and was a minor they were safe, but edward was a consumptive visibly declining. they had no hope of perpetuating their power save to alter the succession, and this they tried to do. another earl of warwick had been a king-maker, why not the present one? henry viii's will appointed to succeed him, in case of edward's death without issue, ( ) mary, ( ) elizabeth, ( ) the heirs of his younger sister mary who had married charles brandon, duke of suffolk. of this marriage there had been born two daughters, the elder of whom, frances, married henry grey, recently created duke of suffolk. the issue of this marriage were three daughters, and the eldest of them, lady jane grey, was picked by the two dukes as the heir to the throne, and was married to { } northumberland's son, guilford dudley. the young king was now appealed to, on the ground of his religious feeling, to alter the succession so as to exclude not only his catholic sister mary but his lukewarm sister elizabeth in favor of the strongly protestant lady jane. though his lawyers told him he could not alter the succession to the crown, he intimidated them into drawing up a "devise" purporting to do this. [ ] see a. l. lowell: _public opinion and popular government_, . section . the catholic reaction under mary. - [sidenote: proclamation of queen jane, july , ] when edward died on july , , northumberland had taken such precautions as he could to ensure the success of his project. he had gathered his own men at london and tried to secure help from france, whose king would have been only too glad to involve england in civil war. the death of the king was concealed for four days while preparations were being made, and then queen jane was proclaimed. mary's challenge arrived the next day and she (mary) at once began raising an army. had her person been secured the plot might have succeeded, but she avoided the set snares. charles v wished to support her for religious reasons, but feared to excite patriotic feeling by dispatching an army and therefore confined his intervention to diplomatic representations to northumberland. [sidenote: accession of mary] there was no doubt as to the choice of the people. even the strongest protestants hated civil turmoil more than they did catholicism, and the people as a whole felt instinctively that if the crown was put up as a prize for unscrupulous politicians there would be no end of strife. all therefore flocked to mary, and almost without a struggle she overcame the conspirators and entered her capital amid great rejoicing. northumberland, after a despicable and fruitless recantation, was executed and so were his son and his son's wife, queen jane. sympathy was felt for her on { } account of her youth, beauty and remarkable talents, but none for her backers. the relief with which the settlement was regarded gave the new queen at least the good will of the nation to start with. this she gradually lost. just as elizabeth instinctively did the popular thing, so mary seemed almost by fatality to choose the worst course possible. her foreign policy, in the first place, was both un-english and unsuccessful. [sidenote: marriage of mary and philip, july , ] almost at once charles v proposed his son philip as mary's husband, and, after about a year of negotiation, the marriage took place. the tremendous unpopularity of this step was due not so much to hostility to spain, though spain was beginning to be regarded as the national foe rather than france, but to the fear of a foreign domination. england had never before been ruled by a queen, if we except the disastrous reign of mathilda, and it was natural to suppose that mary's husband should have the prerogative as well as the title of king. in vain philip tried to disabuse the english of the idea that he was asserting any independent claims; in some way the people felt that they were being annexed to spain, and they hated it. the religious aim of the marriage, to aid in the restoration of catholicism, was also disliked. cardinal pole frankly avowed this purpose, declaring that as christ, being heir of the world, was sent down by his father from the royal throne, to be at once spouse and son of the virgin mary and to be made the comforter and saviour of mankind; so, in like manner, the greatest of all princes upon earth, the heir of his father's kingdom, departed from his own broad and happy realms that he, too, might come hither into this land of trouble, to be the spouse and son of this virgin mary . . . to aid in the reconciliation of this people to christ and the church. for mary herself the marriage was most unhappy. { } she was a bride of thirty-eight, already worn and aged by grief and care; her bridegroom was only twenty-seven. she adored him, but he almost loathed her and made her miserable by neglect and unfaithfulness. her passionate hopes for a child led her to believe and announce that she was to have one, and her disappointment was correspondingly bitter. so unpopular was the marriage coupled with the queen's religious policy, that it led to a rebellion under sir thomas wyatt. though suppressed, it was a dangerous symptom, especially as mary failed to profit by the warning. her attempts to implicate her sister elizabeth in the charge of treason failed. had mary's foreign policy only been strong it might have conciliated the patriotic pride of the ever present jingo. but under her leadership england seemed to decline almost to its nadir. the command of the sea was lost and, as a consequence of this and of the military genius of the duke of guise, calais, held for over two centuries, was conquered by the french. [sidenote: ] with the subsequent loss of guines the last english outpost on the continent was reft from her. [sidenote: religious policy] notwithstanding mary's saying that "calais" would be found in her heart when she died, by far her deepest interest was the restoration of catholicism. to assist her in this task she had cardinal reginald pole, in whose veins flowed the royal blood of england and whom the pope appointed as legate to the kingdom. though mary's own impulse was to act strongly, she sensibly adopted the emperor's advice to go slowly and, as far as possible, in legal forms. within a month of her succession she issued a proclamation stating her intention to remain catholic and her hope that her subjects would embrace the same religion, but at the same time disclaiming the intention of forcing them and forbidding strife and the use of { } "those new-found devilish terms of papist or heretic or such like." elections to the first parliament were free; it passed two noteworthy acts of repeal, [sidenote: repeal of reforming acts] the first restoring the _status quo_ at the death of henry viii, the second restoring the _status quo_ of on the eve of the reformation parliament. this second act abolished eighteen statutes of henry viii and one of edward vi, but it refused to restore the church lands. the fate of the confiscated ecclesiastical property was one of the greatest obstacles, if not the greatest, in the path of reconciliation with rome. the pope at first insisted upon it, and pole was deeply grieved at being obliged to absolve sinners who kept the fruits of their sins. but the english, as the spanish ambassador renard wrote, "would rather get themselves massacred than let go" the abbey lands. the very statute of repeal, therefore, that in other respects met mary's demands, carefully guarded the titles to the secularized lands, making all suits relating to them triable only in crown courts. the second point on which parliament, truly representing a large section of public opinion, was obstinate, was in the refusal to recognize the papal supremacy. the people as a whole cared not what dogma they were supposed to believe, but they for the most part cordially hated the pope. they therefore agreed to pass the acts of repeal only on condition that nothing was said about the royal supremacy. to mary's insistence they returned a blank refusal to act and she was compelled to wait "while parliament debated articles that might well puzzle a general council," as a contemporary wrote. lords and commons were quite willing to pass acts to strengthen the crown and then to leave the responsibility { } for further action to it. thus the divorce of henry and catharine of aragon was repealed and the revival of treason laws were revived. [sidenote: revival of treason laws] going even beyond the limit of henry viii it was made treason to "pray or desire" that god would shorten the queen's days. worse than that, parliament revived the heresy laws. it is a strange comment on the nature of legislatures that they have so often, as in this case, protected property better than life, and made money more sacred than conscience. however, it was not parliament but the executive that carried out to its full extent the policy of persecution and religious reaction. the country soon showed its opposition. a temporary disarray that might have been mistaken for disintegration had been produced in the protestant ranks by the recantation of northumberland. the restoration of the mass was accomplished in orderly manner in most places. the english formulas had been patient of a catholic interpretation, and doubtless many persons regarded the change from one liturgy to the other as a matter of slight importance. moreover the majority made a principle of conformity to the government, believing that an act of the law relieved the conscience of the individual of responsibility. but even so, there was a large minority of recusants. of beneficed clergy in england, were ejected for refusal to comply. a very large number fled to the continent, forming colonies at frankfort-on-the-main and at geneva and scattering in other places. the opinion of the imperial ambassador renard that english protestants depended entirely on support from abroad was tolerably true for this reign, for their books continued to be printed abroad, and a few further translations from foreign reformers were made. it is noteworthy that these mostly treat of the { } question, then so much in debate, whether protestants might innocently attend the mass. other expressions of the temper of the people were the riots in london. on the last day of the first parliament a dog with a tonsured crown, a rope around its neck and a writing signifying that priests and bishops should be hung, was thrown through a window into the queen's presence chamber. at another time a cat was found tonsured, surpliced, and with a wafer in its mouth in derision of the mass. the perpetrators of these outrages could not be found. [sidenote: passive resistance] a sterner, though passive, resistance to the government was gloriously evinced when stake and rack began to do their work. mary was totally unprepared for the strength of protestant feeling in the country. she hoped a few executions would strike terror into the hearts of all and render further persecution unnecessary. but from the execution of the first martyr, john rogers, it was plain that the people sympathized with the victims rather than feared their fate. not content with warring on the living, mary even broke the sleep of the dead.[ ] the bodies of bucer and fagius were dug up and burned. the body of peter martyr's wife was also exhumed, though, as no evidence of heresy could be procured, it was thrown on a dunghill to rot. [sidenote: martyrs, october , ] the most famous victims were latimer, ridley and cranmer. the first two were burnt alive together, latimer at the stake comforting his friend by assuring him, "this day we shall light such a candle, by god's grace, in england, as i trust, shall never be put out." a special procedure was reserved for cranmer, as primate. every effort was made to get him to recant. he at first signed four submissions recognizing the { } power of the pope as and if restored by parliament. he then signed two real recantations, and finally drew up a seventh document, repudiating his recantations, re-affirming his faith in the protestant doctrine of the sacraments and denouncing the pope. by holding his right hand in the fire, when he was burned at the stake, he testified his bitter repentance for its act in signing the recantations. [sidenote: march , ] the total number of martyrs in mary's reign fell very little, if at all, short of . the lists of them are precise and circumstantial. the geographical distribution is interesting, furnishing, as it does, the only statistical information available in the sixteenth century for the spread of protestantism. it graphically illustrates the fact, so often noticed before, that the strongholds of the new opinions were the commercial towns of the south and east. if a straight line be drawn from the wash to portsmouth, passing about twenty miles west of london, it will roughly divide the protestant from the catholic portions of england. out of martyrdoms known, took place east of this line, that is, in the city of london and the counties of essex, hertford, kent, sussex, norfolk, suffolk and cambridge. thirteen are recorded in the south center, at winchester and salisbury, eleven at the western ports of the severn, bristol and gloucester. there were three in wales, all on the coast at st. david's; one in the south-western peninsula at exeter, a few in the midlands, and not one north of lincolnshire and cheshire. when it is said that the english changed their religion easily, this record of heroic opposition must be remembered to the contrary. mary's reign became more and more hateful to her people until at last it is possible that only the prospect of its speedy termination prevented a rebellion. the popular epithet of { } "bloody" rightly distinguishes her place in the estimate of history. it is true that her persecution sinks into insignificance compared with the holocausts of victims to the inquisition in the netherlands. but the english people naturally judged by their own history, and in all of that such a reign of terror was unexampled. the note of mary's reign is sterility and its achievement was to create, in reaction to the policy then pursued, a ferocious and indelible hatred of rome. [ ] the canon law forbade the burial of heretics in consecrated ground, but it is said that charles v refused to dig up luther's body when he took wittenberg. section . the elizabethan settlement. - . [sidenote: elizabeth, - ] however numerous and thorny were the problems pressed for solution into the hands of the maiden of twenty-five now called upon to rule england, the greatest of all questions, that of religion, almost settled itself. it is extremely hard to divest ourselves of the wisdom that comes after the event and to put ourselves in the position of the men of that time and estimate fairly the apparent feasibility of various alternatives. but it is hard to believe that the considerations that seem so overwhelming to us should not have forced themselves upon the attention of the more thoughtful men of that generation. in the first place, while the daughter of anne boleyn was predestined by heredity and breeding to oppose rome, yet she was brought up in the anglican catholicism of henry viii. at the age of eleven she had translated margaret of navarre's _mirror of the sinful soul_, a work expressing the spirit of devotion joined with liberalism in creed and outward conformity in cult. the rapid vicissitudes of faith in england taught her tolerance, and her own acute intellect and practical sense inclined her to indifference. she did not scruple to give all parties, catholic, lutheran and calvinist, the impression, when it suited her, that she was almost in agreement with each of them. the accusation { } that she was "an atheist and a maintainer of atheism" [sidenote: ] meant no more than that her interests were secular. she once said that she would rather hear a thousand masses than be guilty of the millions of crimes perpetrated by some of those who had suppressed the mass. she liked candles, crucifixes and ritual just as she inordinately loved personal display. and politically she learned very early to fear the republicanism of knox. [sidenote: most of people catholic] the conservatism of elizabeth's policy was determined also by the consideration that, though the more intelligent and progressive classes were protestant, the mass of the people still clung to the roman faith, and, if they had no other power, had at least the _vis inertiae_. accurate figures cannot be obtained, but a number of indications are significant. in convocation asserted the adherence of the clergy to the ancient faith. maurice clenoch estimated in that the majority of the people would welcome foreign intervention in favor of mary stuart and the old faith. nicholas sanders, a contemporary catholic apologist, said that the common people of that period were divided into three classes: husbandmen, shepherds and mechanics. the first two classes he considered entirely catholic; the third class, he said, were not tainted with schism as a whole, but only in some parts, those, namely of sedentary occupation such as weavers, cobblers and some lazy "aulici," _i.e._ servants and humble retainers of the great. the remote parts of the kingdom, he added, were least tainted with heresy and, as the towns were few and small, he estimated that less than one per cent. of the population was protestant. though these figures are a tremendous exaggeration of the proportion of catholics, some support may be found for them in the information sent to the curia in that english nobles were catholic, { } well affected to the catholics and protestants. only slightly different is the report sent in that at that time english peers were catholic, doubtful and heretical. as a matter of fact, in religious questions we find that the house of lords would have been catholic but for the bishops, a solid phalanx of government nominees. [sidenote: but most powerful class protestants] but if the masses were catholic, the strategically situated classes were reformed. the first house of commons of elizabeth proved by its acts to be strongly protestant. the assumption generally made that it was packed by the government has been recently exploded. careful testing shows that there was hardly any government interference. of the members, had sat in earlier parliaments of mary, and that was just the normal proportion of old members. it must be remembered that the parliamentary franchise approached the democratic only in the towns, the strongholds of protestantism, and that in the small boroughs and in some of the counties the election was determined by just that middle class most progressive and at this time most protestant. another test of the temper of the country is the number of clergy refusing the oath of supremacy. out of a total number of about nine thousand only about two hundred lost their livings as recusants, and most of these were mary's appointees. the same impression of protestantism is given by the literature of the time. the fifty-six volumes of elizabethan divinity published by the parker society testify to the number of reformation treaties, tracts, hymns and letters of this period. during the first thirty years of elizabeth's reign there were fifteen new translations of luther's works, not counting a number of reprints, two new translations from melanchthon, thirteen from bullinger and thirty-four from calvin. { } notwithstanding this apparently large foreign influence, the english reformation at this time resumed the national character temporarily lost during mary's reign. john jewel's _apologia ecclesiae anglicanae_ [sidenote: ] has been called by creighton, "the first methodical statement of the position of the church of england against the church of rome, and the groundwork of all subsequent controversy." finally, most of the prominent men of the time, and most of the rising young men, were protestants. the english sea-captains, wolves of the sea as they were, found it advisable to disguise themselves in the sheep's clothing of zeal against the idolater. more creditable to the cause was the adherence of men like sir william cecil, later lord burghley, a man of cool judgment and decent conversation. coverdale, still active, was made a bishop. john foxe published, all in the interests of his faith, the most popular and celebrated history of the time. roger ascham, elizabeth's tutor, still looked to lutheran germany as "a place where christ's doctrine, the fear of god, punishment of sin, and discipline of honesty were held in special regard." edmund spenser's great allegory, as well as some of his minor poems, were largely inspired by anglican and calvinistic purposes. [sidenote: conversion of the masses] it was during elizabeth's reign that the roman catholics lost the majority they claimed in and became the tiny minority they have ever since remained. the time and to some extent the process through which this came to pass can be traced with fair accuracy. in the policy of the government, till then wavering, became more decided, indicating that the current had begun to set in favor of protestantism. the failure of the northern rising and of the papal bull in - , indicated the weakness of the ancient faith. in a careful estimate of the { } religious state of england was made by a contemporary, [sidenote: carleton's estimate] who thought that of the three classes into which he divided the population, papist, protestant and atheist (by which he probably meant, indifferent) the first was smaller than either of the other two. ten years later ( - ) the jesuit mission in england claimed , converts. but in reality these adherents were not new converts, but the remnant of romanism remaining faithful. if we assume, as a distinguished historian has done, that this number included nearly all the obstinately devoted, as the population of england and wales was then about , , , the proportion of catholics was only about per cent. of the total, at which percentage it remained constant during the next century. but there were probably a considerable number of timid roman catholics not daring to make themselves known to the jesuit mission. but even allowing liberally for these, it is safe to say that by the members of that church had sunk to a very small minority. those who see in the conversion of the english people the result merely of government pressure must explain two inconvenient facts. the first is that the puritans, who were more strongly persecuted than the papists, waxed mightily notwithstanding. the second is that, during the period when the conversion of the masses took place, there were no martyrdoms and there was little persecution. the change was, in fact, but the inevitable completion and consequence of the conversion of the leaders of the people earlier. with the masses, doubtless, the full contrast between the old and the new faiths was not realized. attending the same churches if not the same church, using a liturgy which some hoped would obtain papal sanction, and ignorant of the changes made in translation from the latin ritual, the uneducated did not trouble themselves { } about abstruse questions of dogma or even about more obvious matters such as the supremacy of the pope and the marriage of the clergy. moreover, there were strong positive forces attracting them to the anglican communion. they soon learned to love the english prayer-book, and the bible became so necessary that the catholics were obliged to produce a version of their own. english insularity and patriotism drew them powerfully to the bosom of their own peculiar communion. [sidenote: elizabeth's policy] though we can now see that the forces drawing england to the reformation were decisive, the policy of elizabeth was at first cautious. the old services went on until parliament had spoken. as with henry viii, so with this daughter of his, scrupulous legality of form marked the most revolutionary acts. elizabeth had been proclaimed "queen of england, france and ireland, defender of the faith &c," this "&c" being chosen to stand in place of the old title "supreme head of the church," thus dodging the question of its assumption or omission. parliament, however, very soon passed supremacy and uniformity acts to supply the needed sanction. the former repealed philip and mary's heresy act and repealing statute, revived ten acts of henry viii and one of edward vi, but confirmed the repeal of six acts of henry viii. next, parliament proceeded to seize the episcopal lands. its spirit was just as secular as that of henry's parliaments, only there was less ecclesiastical property left to grab. the book of common prayer was revised by introducing into the recension of a few passages from the first edition of , previously rejected as too catholic. three of the forty-two articles of religion of edward were dropped, [sidenote: the thirty-nine articles ] thus making the thirty-nine articles that have ever since been the authoritative { } statement of anglican doctrine. thus it is true to some extent that the elizabethan settlement was a compromise. it took special heed of various parties, and tried to avoid offence to lutherans, zwinglians, and even to roman catholics. but far more than a compromise, it was a case of special development. as it is usually compared with the english dissenting sects, the church of england is often said to be the most conservative of the reformed bodies. it is often said that it is protestant in doctrine and catholic in ritual and hierarchy. but compared with the lutheran church it is found to be if anything further from rome. in fact the anglicans of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries abhorred the lutherans as "semi-papists." [sidenote: the church of england] and yet the anglican church was like the lutheran not only in its conservatism as compared with calvinism, but in its political aspects. both became the strong allies of the throne; both had not only a markedly national but a markedly governmental quality. just as the reformation succeeded in england by becoming national in opposition to spain, and remaining national in opposition to french culture, so the anglican church naturally became a perfect expression of the english character. moderate, decorous, detesting extremes of speculation and enthusiasm, she cares less for logic than for practical convenience. closely interwoven with the religious settlement were the questions of the heir to the throne [sidenote: succession] and of foreign policy. elizabeth's life was the only breakwater that stood between the people and a catholic, if not a disputed, succession. the nearest heir was mary stuart, queen of scots, a granddaughter of margaret tudor, henry viii's sister. as a catholic and a frenchwoman, half by race and wholly by her first marriage to francis ii, she would have been most { } distasteful to the ruling party in england. elizabeth was therefore desired and finally urged by parliament to marry. her refusal to do this has been attributed to some hidden cause, as her love for leicester or the knowledge that she was incapable of bearing a child. but though neither of these hypotheses can be disproved, neither is necessary to account for her policy. it is true that it would have strengthened her position to have had a child to succeed her; but it would have weakened her personal sway to have had a husband. she wanted to rule as well as to reign. her many suitors were encouraged just sufficiently to flatter her vanity and to attain her diplomatic ends. first, her brother-in-law philip sought her hand, and was promptly rejected as a spanish catholic. then, there was robert dudley, earl of leicester, apparently her favorite in spite of his worthless character, but his rank was not high enough. then, there were princes of sweden and denmark, an archduke of austria and two sons of catharine de' medici's. the suit of one of the latter began when elizabeth was thirty-nine years old and he was nineteen [sidenote: ] and continued for ten years with apparent zest on both sides. parliament put all the pressure it could upon the queen to make her flirtations end in matrimony, but it only made elizabeth angry. twice she forbade discussion of the matter, and, though she afterwards consented to hear the petition, she was careful not to call another parliament for five years. [sidenote: financial measures] vexatious financial difficulties had been left to elizabeth. largely owing to the debasement of the currency royal expenditure had risen from l , per annum at the end of henry's reign to l , in the last year of mary's reign. the government's credit was in a bad way, and the commerce of the kingdom deranged. [sidenote: ] by the wise expedient of calling in the { } debased coins issued since , the hardest problems were solved. [sidenote: underhand war] towards france and spain elizabeth's policy was one well described by herself as "underhand war." english volunteers, with government connivance, but nominally on their own responsibility, fought in the ranks of huguenots and netherlanders. torrents of money poured from english churches to support their fellow-protestants in france and holland. english sailors seized spanish galleons; if successful the queen secretly shared the spoil; but if they were caught they might be hanged as pirates by philip or alva. this condition, unthinkable now, was allowed by the inchoate state of international law; the very idea of neutrality was foreign to the time. states were always trying to harm and overreach each other in secret ways. in elizabethan england the anti-papal and anti-spanish ardor of the mariners made possible this buccaneering without government support, had not the rich prizes themselves been enough to attract the adventurous. doubtless far more energy went into privateering than into legitimate commerce. peace was officially made with france, recognizing the surrender of calais at first for a limited period of years. though peace was still nominally kept with spain for a long time, the shift of policy from one of hostility to france to one of enmity to spain was soon manifest. as long, however, as the government relied chiefly on the commercial interests of the capital and other large towns, and as long as spain controlled the netherlands, open war was nearly impossible, for it would have been extremely unpopular with the merchants of both london and the low countries. in times of crisis, however, [sidenote: ] an embargo was laid on all trade with philip's dominions. elizabeth's position was made extremely delicate by { } the fact that the heiress to her throne was the scotch queen mary stuart, who, since , had been a refugee in england and had been kept in a sort of honorable captivity. on account of her religion she became the center of the hopes and of the actual machinations of all english malcontents. in these plots she participated as far as she dared. [sidenote: the catholic powers] elizabeth's crown would have been jeoparded had the catholic powers, or any one of them, acted promptly. that they did not do so is proof, partly of their mutual jealousies, party of the excellence of cecil's statesmanship. convinced though he was that civil peace could only be secured by religious unity, for five years he played a hesitating game in order to hold off the catholics until his power should be strong enough to crush them. by a system of espionage, by permitting only nobles and sailors to leave the kingdom without special licence, by welcoming dutch protestant refugees, he clandestinely fostered the strength of his party. his scheme was so far successful that the pope hesitated more than eleven years before issuing the bull of deprivation. for this elizabeth had also to thank the catholic hapsburgs; in the first place philip who then hoped to marry her, and in the second place the emperor ferdinand who said that if elizabeth were excommunicated the german catholics would suffer for it and that there were many german protestant princes who deserved the ban as much as she did. matters were clarified by the calling of the council of trent. asked to send an embassy to this council elizabeth refused for three reasons: ( ) because she had not been consulted about calling the council; ( ) because she did not consider it free, pious and christian; ( ) because the pope sought to stir up sedition in her realms. the council replied to this snub by excommunicating her, but it is a significant sign of the { } times that neither they nor the pope as yet dared to use spiritual weapons to depose her, as the pope endeavored to do a few years later. [sidenote: anti-catholic laws] whether as a reply to this measure or not, parliament passed more stringent laws against catholics. cecil's policy, inherited from thomas cromwell, to centralize and unify the state, met with threefold opposition; first from the papists who disliked nationalizing the church, second from the holders of medieval franchises who objected to their absorption in a centripetal system, and third from the old nobles who resented their replacement in the royal council by upstarts. all these forces produced a serious crisis in the years - . the north, as the stronghold of both feudalism and catholicism, led the reaction. the duke of norfolk, england's premier peer, plotted with the northern earls to advance mary's cause, and thought of marrying her himself. pope pius v warmly praised their scheme which culminated in a rebellion. [sidenote: rebellion, ] the nobles and commons alike were filled with the spirit of crusaders, bearing banners with the cross and the five wounds of christ. at the same time they voiced the grievance of the old-fashioned farmer against the new-fangled merchant. their banners inscribed "god speed the plough" bear witness to the agrarian element common to so many revolts. their demands were the restoration of catholicism, intervention in scotland to put mary back on her throne, and her recognition as heiress of england, and the expulsion of foreign refugees. had they been able to secure mary's person or had the scotch joined them, it is probable that they would have seceded from the south of england. but the new pilgrimage of grace was destined to no more success than the old one. moray, regent of scotland, forcibly prevented assistance going to the { } rebels from north britain. elizabeth prepared an overwhelming army, but it was not needed. the rebels, seeing the hopelessness of their cause, dispersed and were pursued by an exemplary punishment, no less than eight hundred being executed. three years later norfolk trod the traitor's path to the scaffold. his death sealed the ruin of the old nobility whose privileges were incompatible with the new régime. in the same year a parliamentary agitation in favor of the execution of mary witnessed how dead were medieval titles to respect. [sidenote: papal bull, february , ] too late to have much effect, pius v issued the bull _regnans in excelsis_, declaring that whereas the roman pontiff has power over all nations and kingdoms to destroy and ruin or to plant and build up, and whereas elizabeth, the slave of vice, has usurped the place of supreme head of the church, has sent her realm to perdition and has celebrated the impious mysteries of calvin, therefore she is cut off from the body of christ and deprived of her pretended right to rule england, while all her subjects are absolved from their oaths of allegiance. the bull also reasserted elizabeth's illegitimacy, and echoed the complaint of the northern earls that she had expelled the old nobility from her council. the promulgation of the bull, without the requisite warning and allowance of a year for repentance, was contrary to the canon law. the fulmination was sent to alva to the netherlands and a devotee was found to carry it to england. forthwith elizabeth issued a masterly proclamation vouchsafing that, her majesty would have all her loving subjects to understand that, as long as they shall openly continue in the observation of her laws, and shall not wilfully and manifestly break them by open actions, her majesty's means is not to have any of them molested by any inquisition or { } examination of their consciences in causes of religion, but to accept and entreat them as her good and obedient subjects. but to obviate the contamination of her people by political views expressed in the bull, [sidenote: anti-papal laws] and to guard against the danger of a further rising in the interests of mary stuart, the parliament of passed several necessary laws. one of these forbade bringing the bull into england; another made it treasonable to declare that elizabeth was not or ought not to be queen or that she was a heretic, usurper or schismatic. the first seventeen years of elizabeth's reign had been blessedly free from persecution. the increasing strain between england and the papacy was marked by a number of executions of romanists. a recent catholic estimate is that the total number of this faith who suffered under elizabeth was , of whom were priests, laymen and three women; and to this should be added franciscans who died in prison of starvation. the contrast of victims in elizabeth's forty-five years as against in mary's five years, is less important than the different purpose of the government. under mary the executions were for heresy; under elizabeth chiefly for treason. it is true that the whole age acted upon sir philip sidney's maxim that it was the highest wisdom of statesmanship never to separate religion from politics. church and state were practically one and the same body, and opinions repugnant to established religion naturally resulted in acts inimical to the civil order. but the broad distinction is plain. cecil put men to death not because he detested their dogma but because he feared their politics. nothing proves more clearly the purposes of the english government than its long duel with the jesuit mission. [sidenote: jesuit mission] it is unfair to say that the primary purpose { } of the curia was to get all the privileges of loyalty for english catholics while secretly inciting them to rise and murder their sovereign. but the very fact that the jesuits were instructed not to meddle in politics and yet were unable to keep clear of the law, proves how inextricably politics and religion were intertwined. immediately drawing the suspicion of burghley, they were put to the "bloody question" and illegally tortured, even while the government felt called upon to explain that they were not forced to the rack to answer "any question of their supposed conscience" but only as to their political opinions. but one of these opinions was whether the pope had the right to depose the queen. [sidenote: character of jesuits] the history of these years is one more example of how much more accursed it is to persecute than to be persecuted. the jesuits sent to england were men of the noblest character, daring and enduring all with fortitude, showing charity and loving-kindness even to their enemies. but the character of their enemies correspondingly deteriorated. that sense of fair play that is the finest english quality disappeared under the stress of fanaticism. not only jesuits, but catholic women and children were attacked; one boy of thirteen was racked and executed as a traitor. the persecution by public opinion supplied what the activity of the government overlooked. in fact it was the government that was the moderating factor. the act passed in banishing the jesuits was intended to obviate sterner measures. in dealing with the mass of the population burghley made persecution pay its way by resorting to fines as the principal punishment. during the last twenty years of the reign no less than l , per annum was thus collected. the helpless rage of the popes against "the jezebel of the north" waxed until one of them, gregory xiii, { } sanctioned an attempt at her assassination. [sidenote: conspiracies] in there appeared at the court of madrid one humphrey ely, later a secular priest. he informed the papal nunciature that some english nobles, mentioned by name, had determined to murder elizabeth but wished the pope's own assurance that, in case they lost their lives in the attempt, they should not have fallen into sin by the deed. after giving his own opinion that the bull of pius v gave all men the right to take arms against the queen in any fashion, the nuncio wrote to rome. from the papal secretary, speaking in the pope's name, he received the following reply: as that guilty woman of england rules two so noble realms of christendom, is the cause of so much harm to the catholic faith, and is guilty of the loss of so many million souls, there is no doubt that any one who puts her out of the world with the proper intention of serving god thereby, not only commits no sin but even wins merit, especially seeing that the sentence of the late pius v is standing against her. if, therefore, these english nobles have really decided to do so fair a work, your honor may assure them that they commit no sin. also we may trust in god that they will escape all danger. as to your own irregularity [caused to the nuncio as a priest by conspiracy to murder] the pope sends you his holy blessing.[ ] a conspiracy equally unsuccessful but more famous, because discovered at the time, was that of anthony babington. burghley's excellent secret service apprised the government not only of the principals but also of aid and support given to them by philip ii and mary queen of scots. parliament petitioned for the execution of mary. though there was no doubt of her guilt, elizabeth hesitated to give the dangerous example of sending a crowned head to the block. { } with habitual indirection she did her best to get mary's jailer, sir amyas paulet, to put her to death without a warrant. failing in this, she finally signed the warrant, [sidenote: mary beheaded, february , ] but when her council acted upon it in secret haste lest she should change her mind, she flew into a rage and, to prove her innocence, heavily fined and imprisoned one of the privy council whom she selected as scapegoat. [sidenote: war with spain] the war with spain is sometimes regarded as the inevitable consequence of the religious opposition of the chief catholic and the chief protestant power. but probably the war would never have gone beyond the stage of privateering and plots to assassinate in which it remained inchoate for so long, had it not been for the netherlands. the corner-stone of english policy has been to keep friendly, or weak, the power controlling the mouths of the rhine and the scheldt. the war of liberation in the netherlands had a twofold effect; in the first place it damaged england's best customer, and secondly, spanish "frightfulness" shocked the english conscience. for a long time the policy of the queen herself was as cynically selfish as it could possibly be. she not only watched complacently the butcheries of alva, but she plotted and counterplotted, now offering aid to the prince of orange, now betraying his cause in a way that may have been sport to her but was death to the men she played with. her aim, as far as she had a consistent one, was to allow spain and the netherlands to exhaust each other. not only far nobler but, as it proved in the end, far wiser, was the action of the puritan party that poured money and recruits into the cause of their oppressed fellow-calvinists. but an equally great service to them, or at any rate a greater amount of damage to spain, was done by the hardy buccaneers, hawkins and drake, who preyed upon the spanish treasure { } galleons and pillaged the spanish settlements in the new world. these men and their fellows not only cut the sinews of spain's power but likewise built the fleet. [sidenote: england's sea power] the eventual naval victory of england was preceded by a long course of successful diplomacy. as the aggressor england forced the haughtiest power in europe to endure a protracted series of outrages. not only were rebels supported, not only were spanish fleets taken forcibly into english harbors and there stripped of moneys belonging to their government, but refugees were protected and spanish citizens put to death by the english queen. philip and alva could not effectively resent and hardly dared to protest against the treatment, because they felt themselves powerless. as so often, the island kingdom was protected by the ocean and by the proved superiority of her seamen. after a score of petty fights all the way from the bay of biscay to the pacific ocean, spanish sailors had no desire for a trial of strength in force. but in every respect save in sea power spain felt herself immeasurably superior to her foe. her wealth, her dominions, recently augmented by the annexation of portugal, were enormous; her army had been tried in a hundred battles. england's force was doubtless underestimated. an italian expert stated that an army of , to , foot and , horse would be sufficient to conquer her. even to the last it was thought that an invader would be welcomed by a large part of the population, for english refugees never wearied of picturing the hatred of the people for their queen. but the decision was long postponed for two reasons. first, spain was fully employed in subduing the netherlands. secondly, the catholic powers hoped for the accession of mary. but after the assassination of orange in , and after the execution of the queen { } of scots, these reasons for delay no longer existed. drake carried the naval war [sidenote: ] to the coasts of spain and to her colonies. the consequent bankruptcy of the bank of seville and the wounded national pride brought home to spaniards the humiliation of their position. all that philip could do was to pray for help and to forbid the importation of english wares. [sidenote: april ] in reply drake fell upon the harbor of cadiz and destroyed twenty-four or more warships and vast military stores. so at last the decision was taken to crush the one power that seemed to maintain the reformation, to uphold the huguenots and the dutch patriots and to harry with impunity the champions of catholicism. pope sixtus v, not wishing to hazard anything, promised a subsidy of , , crowns of gold, the first half payable on the landing of the spanish army, the second half two months later. save this, philip had no promise of help from any catholic power. the huge scale of his preparations was only equaled by their vast lack of intelligence, insuring defeat from the first. the type of ship adopted was the old galley, intended to ram and grapple the enemy but totally unfitted for manoeuvring in the atlantic gales. the ships carried guns, but the artillery, though numerous, was small, intended rather to be used against the enemy crews than against the ships themselves. the necessary geographical information for the invasion of britain in the year was procured from caesar's _de bello gallico_. the admiral in chief, the duke of medina sidonia, had never even commanded a ship before and most of the high officers were equally innocent of professional knowledge, for sailors were despised as inferior to soldiers. three-fourths of the crews were soldiers, all but useless in naval warfare of the new type. blind zeal did little to supply the lack { } of foresight, though philip spent hours on his knees before the host in intercession for the success of his venture. the very names of the ships, though quite in accordance with spanish practice, seem symbolic of the holy character of the crusade: _santa maria de gracia, neustra señora del rosario, san juan baptista, la concepcion_. on the english side there was also plenty of fanatical fury, but it was accompanied by practical sense. the grandfathers of cromwell's ironsides had already learned, if they had not yet formulated, the maxim, "fear god and keep your powder dry." some of the ships in the english navy had religious names, but many were called by more secular appellations: _the bull, the tiger, the dreadnought, the revenge_. to meet the foe a very formidable and self-confident force of about forty-five ships of the best sort had gathered from the well-tried ranks of the buccaneers. it is true that patronage did some damage to the english service, but it was little compared to that of spain. lord howard of effingham was made admiral on account of his title, but the vice-admiral was sir francis drake, to whom the chief credit of the action must fall. [sidenote: july, ] the battle in the channel was fought for nine days. there was no general strategy or tactics; the english simply sought to isolate and sink a ship wherever they could. their heavier cannon were used against the enemy, and fire-ships were sent among his vessels. when six spanish ships had foundered in the channel, the fleet turned northward to the coasts of holland. during their flight an uncertain number were destroyed by the english, and a few more fell a prey to the sea beggars of holland. the rest, much battered, turned north to sail around scotland. in the storms nineteen ships were wrecked on the coasts of scotland and ireland; of thirty-five ships the spaniards themselves { } could give no account. for two months philip was in suspense as to the fate of his great armada, of which at last only a riddled and battered remnant returned to home harbors. the importance of the victory over the armada, like that of most dramatic events, has been overestimated. to contemporaries, at least to the victors and their friends it appeared as the direct judgment of god: "flavit deus et dissipati sunt." the gorgeous rhetoric of ranke and froude has painted it as one of the turning points in world history. but in reality it rather marked than made an epoch. had philip's ships won, it is still inconceivable that he could have imposed his dominion on england any more than he could on the netherlands. england was ripening and spain was rotting for half a century before the collision made this fact plain to all. the armada did not end the war nor did it give the death blow to spanish power, much less to catholicism. on the continent of europe things went on almost unchanged. but in england the effect was considerable. the victory stimulated national pride; it strengthened the protestants, and the left wing of that party. though the catholics had shown themselves loyal during the crisis they were subjected, immediately thereafter, to the severest persecution they had yet felt. this was due partly to nervous excitement of the whole population, partly to the advance towards power of the puritans, always the war party. [sidenote: puritans] even in the first years of the great queen there had been a number of calvinists who looked askance at the anglican settlement as too much of a compromise with catholicism and lutheranism. the thirty-nine articles passed convocation by a single vote [sidenote: ] as against a more calvinistic confession. low-churchmen (as they would now be called) attacked the "aaronic" { } vestments of the anglican priests, and prelacy was detested as but one degree removed from papacy. the puritans were not dissenters but were a party in the anglican communion thoroughly believing in a national church, but wishing to make the breach with rome as wide as possible. they found fault with all that had been retained in the prayer book for which there was no direct warrant in scripture, and many of them began to use, in secret conventicles, the genevan instead of the english liturgy. their leader, thomas cartwright, [sidenote: cartwright, - ] a professor of divinity at cambridge until deprived of his chair by the government, had brought back from the netherlands ideals of a presbyterian form of ecclesiastical polity. in his view many "popish abuses" remained in the church of england, among them the keeping of saints' days, kneeling at communion, "the childish and superstitious toys" connected with the baptismal service, the words then used in the marriage service by the man, "with my body i thee worship" by which the husband "made an idol of his wife," the use of such titles as archbishop, arch-deacon, lord bishop. it was because of their excessively scrupulous conscience in these matters, that the name "puritan" was given to the calvinist by his enemy, at first a mocking designation analogous to "catharus" in the middle ages. but the tide set strongly in the puritan direction. time and again the commons tried to initiate legislation to relieve the consciences of the stricter party, but their efforts were blocked by the crown. from this time forth the church of england made an alliance with the throne that has never been broken. as jewel had been compelled, at the beginning of elizabeth's reign, [sidenote: ] to defend the anglican church against rome, so richard hooker, in his famous { } _ecclesiastical polity_ [sidenote: ] was now forced to defend it from the extreme protestants. in the very year in which this finely tempered work was written, a jesuit reported that the puritans were the strongest body in the kingdom and particularly that they had the most officers and soldiers on their side. the coming commonwealth was already casting its shadow on the age of shakespeare. as a moral and religious influence puritanism was of the utmost importance in moulding the english--and american--character and it was, take it all in all, a noble thing. if it has been justly blamed for a certain narrowness in its hostility, or indifference, to art and refinement, it more than compensated for this by the moral earnestness that it impressed on the people. to bring the genius of the bible into english life and literature, to impress each man with the idea of living for duty, to reduce politics and the whole life of the state to ethical standards, are undoubted services of puritanism. politically, it favored the growth of self-reliance, self-control and a sense of personal worth that made democracy possible and necessary. [sidenote: browne, ?- ?] to the left of the puritans were the independents or brownists as they were called from their leader robert browne, the advocate of _reformation without tarrying for any_. he had been a refugee in the netherlands, where he may have come under anabaptist influence. his disciples differed from the followers of cartwright in separating themselves from the state church, in which they found many "filthy traditions and inventions of men." beginning to organize hi separate congregations about , they were said by sir walter raleigh to have as many as , adherents in . though heartily disliked by re-actionaries and by the _beati possidentes_ in both church { } and state, they were, nevertheless, the party of the future. [ ] a. o. meyer: _england und die katholische kirche unter elizabeth_, p. . section . ireland if the union of england and wales has been a marriage--after a courtship of the primitive type; if the union with scotland has been a successful partnership--following a long period of cut-throat competition; the position of ireland has been that of a captive and a slave. to her unwilling mind the english domination has always been a foreign one, and this fact makes more difference with her than whether her master has been cruel, as formerly, or kind, as of late. [sidenote: english rule] the saddest period in all erin's sad life was that of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when to the old antagonism of race was added a new hatred of creed and a new commercial competition. the policy of henry was "to reduce that realm to the knowledge of god and obedience of us." the policy of elizabeth was to pray that god might "call them to the knowledge of his truth and to a civil polity," and to assist the almighty by the most fiendish means to accomplish these ends. the government of the island was a crime, and yet for this crime some considerations must be urged in extenuation. england then regarded the irish much as the americans have seemed to regard the indians, as savages to be killed and driven off to make room for a higher civilization. had england been able to apply the method of extermination she would doubtless have done so and there would then be no irish question today. but in it was recognized that "to enterprise the whole extirpation and total destruction of all the irishmen in the land would be a marvellous gumptious charge and great difficulty." being unable to accomplish this or to put ireland at { } the bottom of the sea, where elizabeth's minister walsingham often wished that it were, the english had the alternatives of half governing or wholly abandoning their neighbors. the latter course was felt to be too dangerous, but had it been adopted, ireland might have evolved an adequate government and prosperity of her own. it is true that she was more backward than england, but yet she had a considerable trade and culture. [sidenote: irish misery] certain points, like dublin and waterford, had much commerce with the continent. and yet, as to the nation as a whole, the report of probably speaks true in saying: "there is no common folk in all this world so little set by, so greatly despised, so feeble, so poor, so greatly trodden under foot, as the king's poor common folk of ireland." there was no map of the whole of ireland; the roads were few and poor and the vaguest notions prevailed as to the shape, size and population of the country. the most civilized part was the english pale around dublin; the native irish lived "west of the barrow and west of the law," and were governed by more than sixty native chiefs. intermarriage of colonists and natives was forbidden by law. the only way the tudor government knew of asserting its suzerainty over these septs, correctly described as "the king's irish enemies," was to raid them at intervals, slaying, robbing and raping as they went. it was after one of these raids in that the poet spencer wrote: the people were brought to such wretchedness that any strong heart would have rued the same. out of every corner of the woods and glens they came, creeping forth upon their hands, for their legs would not bear them. they looked like anatomies of death; they spoke like ghosts crying out of their graves. they did eat the dead carrions, happy where they could find them; yea and one { } another soon after, inasmuch as the very carcasses they spared not to scrape out of their graves; and if they found a plot of watercresses or shamrocks, there they thronged as to a feast for a time. the irish chiefs were not to be tamed by either kindness or force. henry and elizabeth scattered titles of "earl" and "lord" among the o's and macs of her western island, only to find that the coronet made not the slightest difference in either their affections or their manners. they still lived as marauding chiefs, surrounded by wild kerns and gallowglasses fighting each other and preying on their own poor subjects. "let a thousand of my people die," remarked one of them, neil garv, "i pass not a pin. . . . i will punish, exact, cut and hang where and whenever i list." had they been able to make common cause they might perhaps have shaken the english grasp from their necks, for it was commonly corrupt and feeble. sir henry sidney was the strongest and best governor sent to the island during the century, but he was able to do little. though the others could be bribed and though one of them, the earl of essex, conspired with the chiefs to rebel, and though at the very end of elizabeth's reign a capable spanish army landed in ireland to help the natives, nothing ever enabled them to turn out the hated "sassenach." [sidenote: english colonization] england had already tried to solve the irish problem by colonization. leinster had long been a center of english settlement, and in the first english colony was sent to ulster. but as it consisted chiefly of bankrupts, fugitives from justice and others "of so corrupt a disposition as england rather refuseth," it did not help matters much but rather "irrecuperably damnified the state." the irish parliament continued to represent only the english of the pale and of a few towns outside of it. though the inhabitants of the { } pale remained nominally catholic, the parliament was so servile that in it destroyed the monasteries and repudiated the pope, [sidenote: religion] shortly after which the king took the title of head of the irish church. not one penny of the confiscated wealth went to endow an irish university until , when trinity college was founded in the interests of protestantism. though almost every other country of europe had its own printing presses before , ireland had none until , and then the press was used so exclusively for propaganda that it made the very name of reading hateful to the natives. there were, however, no religious massacres and no martyrs of either cause. the persecuting laws were left until the following century. [sidenote: commercial exploitation] the rise of the traders to political power was more ominous than the inception of a new religion. the country was drained of treasure by the exaction of enormous ransoms for captured chiefs. the irish cloth-trade and sea-borne commerce were suppressed. the country was flooded with inferior coin, thus putting its merchants at a vast disadvantage. finally, there was little left that the irish were able to import save liquors, and those "much corrupted." with every plea in mitigation of judgment that can be offered, it must be recognized that england's government of ireland proved a failure. if she did not make the irish savage she did her best to keep them so, and then punished them for it. by exploiting erin's resources she impoverished herself. by trying to impose protestantism she made ireland the very stronghold of papacy. by striving to destroy the septs she created the nation. { } chapter vii scotland one of the most important effects of modern means of easy communication between all parts of the world has been to obliterate or minimize distinctions in national character and in degrees of civilization. the manner of life of england and australia differ less now than the manner of life of england and scotland differed in the sixteenth century. the great stream of culture then flowed much more strongly in the central than in the outlying parts of western europe. the latin nations, italy and france, lay nearest the heart of civilization. but slightly less advanced in culture and in the amenities of life, and superior in some respects, were the netherlands, switzerland, england and the southern and central parts of germany. in partial shadow round about lay a belt of lands: spain, portugal, northern germany, prussia, poland, hungary, scandinavia, scotland, and ireland. [sidenote: scotland] scotland, indeed, had her own universities, but her best scholars were often found at paris, or in german or italian academies. scotch humanists on the continent, the scotch guard of the french king, and scotch monasteries, such as those at erfurt and würzburg, raised the reputation of the country abroad rather than advanced its native culture. printing was not introduced until . brantôme in the sixteenth century, like aeneas silvius in the fifteenth, remarked the uncouthness of the northern kingdom. most backward of all was scotland's political development. no king arose strong enough to be at once { } the tyrant and the saviour of his country; under the weak rule of a series of minors, regents and wanton women a feudal baronage with a lush growth of intestine war and crime, flourished mightily to curse the poor people. when sir david lyndsay asked, [sidenote: ] why are the scots so poor? he gave the correct answer: wanting of justice, policy and peace, are cause of their unhappiness, alas! something may also be attributed to the poverty of the soil and the lack of important commerce or industries. [sidenote: relations with england] the policy of any small nation situated in dangerous proximity to a larger one is almost necessarily determined by this fact. in order to assert her independence scotland was forced to make common cause with england's enemies. guerrilla warfare was endemic on the borders, breaking out, in each generation, into some fiercer crisis. england, on the other hand, was driven to seek her own safety in the annexation of her small enemy, or, failing that, by keeping her as impotent as possible. true to the maxims of the immoral political science that has commonly passed for statesmanship, the tudors consistently sought by every form of deliberate perfidy to foster factions in north britain, to purchase traitors, to hire stabbers, to subsidize rebels, to breed mischief, and to waste the country, at opportune intervals, with armies and fleets. simply to protect the independence that england denied and attacked, scotch rulers became fast allies of france, to be counted on, in every war between the great powers, to stir up trouble in england's rear. on neither side was the policy one of sheer hatred. north and south the purpose increased throughout the century to unite the two countries and thus put an end to the perennial and noxious war. if the early tudors { } were mistaken in thinking they could assert a suzerainty by force of arms, they also must be credited with laying the foundations of the future dynastic union. margaret tudor, henry viii's sister, was married to james iv of scotland. somerset hoped to effect the union more directly by the marriage of edward vi and mary queen of scots. that a party of enlightened statesmen in england should constantly keep the union in mind, is less remarkable under the circumstances than that there should have been built up a considerable body of scotchmen aiming at the same goal. notwithstanding the vitality of patriotism and the tenacity with which small nations usually refuse to merge their own identity in a larger whole, very strong motives called forth the existence of an english party. one favorable condition was the feudal disorganization of society. faction was so common and so bitter that it was able to call in the national enemy without utterly discrediting itself. a second element was jealousy of france. for a time, with the french marriages of james v with mary of lorraine, a sister of the duke of guise, and of mary queen of scots with francis ii, there seemed more danger that the little kingdom should become an appanage of france than a satellite of her southern neighbor. the licentiousness of french officers and french soldiers on scotch soil made their nation least loved when it was most seen. [sidenote: influence of religion] but the great influence overcoming national sentiment was religion. the reformation that brought not peace but a sword to so much of europe in this case united instead of divided the nations. it is sometimes said that national character reveals itself in the national religion. this is true to some extent, but it is still more important to say that a nation's history reveals itself in its forms of faith. from religious statistics of the present day one could { } deduce with considerable accuracy much of the history of any people. the contrast between the churches of england and scotland is the more remarkable when it is considered that the north of england was the stronghold of catholicism, and that the lowland scot, next door to the counties of the northern earls who rose against elizabeth, flew to the opposite extreme and embraced protestantism in its most pronounced form. to say that calvinism, uncompromising and bare of adornment, appealed particularly to the dour, dry, rationalistic scot, is at best but a half truth and at worst a begging of the question. the reasons why england became anglican and scotland presbyterian are found immediately not in the diversity of national character but in the circumstances of their respective polities and history. england cast loose from rome at a time when the conservative influence of luther was predominant; scotland was swept into the current of revolution under the fiercer star of calvin. the english reformation was started by the crown and supported by the new noblesse of commerce. the scotch revolution was markedly baronial in tone. it began with the humanists, continued and flourished in the junior branches of great families, among the burgesses of the towns and among the more vigorous of the clergy, both regular and secular. the crown was consistently against the new movement, but the scottish monarch was too weak to impose his will, or even to have a will of his own. neither james v nor his daughter could afford to break with rome and with france. james v, especially, was thrown into the arms of his clergy by the hostility of his nobles. moreover, after the death of many nobles at the battle of flodden, the clergy became, for a time, [sidenote: ] the strongest estate in the kingdom. { } like the other estates the clergy were still in the middle ages when the reformation [sidenote: reformation] came on them like a thief in the night. in no country was the corruption greater. the bishops and priests took concubines and ate and drank and were drunken and buffeted their fellow men. they exacted their fees to the last farthing, an especially odious one being the claim of the priest to the best cow on the death of a parishioner. as a consequence the parsons and monks were hated by the laity. humanism shed a few bright beams on the hyperborean regions of dundee and glasgow. some erasmians, like hector boece, prepared others for the reformation without joining it themselves; some, like george buchanan, threw genius and learning into the scales of the new faith. the unlearned, too, were touched with reforming zeal. lollardy sowed a few seeds of heresy. about wyclif's version of the new testament was turned into scots by one john nesbit, but it remained in manuscript. in the days before newspapers tidings were carried from place to place by wandering merchants and itinerant scholars. far more than today propaganda was dependent on personal intercourse. one of the first preachers of lutheranism in scotland was a frenchman named la tour, who was martyred on his return to his own country. the noble patrick hamilton made a pilgrimage to the newly founded university of marburg, and possibly to wittenberg. filled, as his catholic countryman, bishop john leslie put it, "with venom very poisonable and deadly . . . soaked out of luther and other archheretics," he returned to find the martyr's crown in his native land. [sidenote: february , ] "the reek of patrick hamilton" infected all upon whom it blew. other young men visited germany. some, like alexander alesius and john macalpine, found positions in { } foreign universities. others visited wittenberg for a short time to carry thence the new gospel. a scotch david[ ] appears at wittenberg in january . another scot, "honorably born and well seen in scholastic theology, exiled from his land on account of the word," made luther's acquaintance in may, . another of the reformer's visitors was james wedderburn whose brother, john, [sidenote: - ] translated some of the german's hymns, and published them as "ane compendious booke of godly and spiritual songs." while men like these were bringing tidings of the new faith back to their countrymen, others were busy importing and distributing lutheran books. the parliament prohibited [sidenote: july , ] all works of "the heretic luther and his disciples," but it could not enforce this law. the english agent at antwerp reported to wolsey that new testaments and other english works were bought by scottish merchants [sidenote: february , ] and sent to edinburgh and st. andrews. the popularity and influence of tyndale's and coverdale's bible is proved by the rapid anglicizing, from this date onward, of the scots dialect. the circulation of the scriptures in english is further proved by the repetition of the injunctions against using them. but the first bible printed in scotland was that of alexander arbuthnot in , based on the geneva bible in . [sidenote: march , ] another indication of the growth of lutheranism is the request of king james v to consistory for permission to tax his clergy one-third of their revenues in order to raise an army against the swarm of his lutheran subjects. as these protestants met in private houses, parliament passed a law, [sidenote: ] "that none hold nor let be holden in their houses nor other ways, congregations or conventicles to commune or dispute of { } the holy scripture, without they be theologians approved by famous universities." as the new party grew the battle was joined. at least twelve martyrs perished in the years - . [sidenote: pamphlets] the field was taken on either side by an army of pamphlets, ballads and broadsides, of which the best known, perhaps, is david lyndsay's _ane satire of the thrie estatis_. in this the clergy are mercilessly attacked for greed and wantonness. [sidenote: ] the new testament is highly praised by some of the characters introduced into the poem, but a pardoner complains that his credit has been entirely destroyed by it and wishes the devil may take him who made that book. he further wishes that "martin luther, that false loon, black bullinger and melanchthon" had been smothered in their chrisom-cloths and that st. paul had never been born. [sidenote: mary stuart, born dec. , ] when james v died, he left the crown to his infant daughter of six days old, that mary whose beauty, crimes and tragic end fixed the attention of her contemporaries and of posterity alike. for the first three years of her reign the most powerful man in the kingdom was david beaton, cardinal archbishop of st. andrews. his policy, of course, was to maintain the catholic religion, and this implied the defence of scotch independence against england. henry viii, with characteristic lack of scruple, plotted to kidnap the infant queen and either to kidnap or to assassinate the cardinal. failing in both, he sent an army north with orders to put man, woman and child to the sword wherever resistance was made. edinburgh castle remained untaken, but holyrood was burned and the country devastated as far as sterling. [sidenote: cardinal beaton] defeated by england, beaton was destined to { } perish in conflict with his other enemy, protestantism. during this time of transition from lutheranism to calvinism, the demands of the scotch reformers would have been more moderate than they later became. they would doubtless have been content with a free bible, free preaching and the sequestration of the goods of the religious orders. under george wishart, who translated the first helvetic confession, [sidenote: or ] the kirk began to assume its calvinistic garb and to take the aspect of a party with a definite political program. the place of newspapers, both as purveyors of information and as organs of public opinion, was taken by the sermons of the ministers, most of them political and all of them controversial. of this party beaton was the scourge. he himself believed that in heresy was almost extinct, and doubtless his belief was confirmed when he was able to put wishart to death. [sidenote: march , ] in revenge for this a few fanatics murdered him. [sidenote: may ] [sidenote: john knox] in the consummation of the religious revolution during the next quarter of a century, one factor was the personality of john knox. a born partisan, a man of one idea who could see no evil on his own side and no good on the other, as a good fighter and a good hater he has had few equals. his supreme devotion to the cause he embraced made him credulous of evil in his foes, and capable of using deceit and of applauding political murder. of his first preaching against romanism it was said, "other have sned [snipped] the branches, but this man strikes at the root," and well nigh the latest judgment passed upon him, that of lord acton, is that he differed from all other protestant founders in his desire that the catholics should be exterminated, either by the state or by the self-help of all christian men. his not to speak the words of love and mercy from the gospel, but to curse and { } thunder against "those dumb dogs, the poisoned and pestilent papists" in the style of the old testament prophet or psalmist. but while the harshness of his character has repelled many, his fundamental consistency and his courage have won admiration. as a great preacher, "or he had done with his sermon he was so active and vigorous that he was like to ding the pulpit in blads and fly out of it." his style was direct, vigorous, plain, full of pungent wit and biting sarcasm. even the year of his birth is in dispute. the traditional date is ; but it has been shown with much reason that the more likely date is or . that he had a university education and that he was ordained priest is all that is known of him until about . during the last months of wishart's life knox was his constant attendant. his own preaching continued the work of the martyr until june, , when st. andrews was captured by the french fleet and knox was made a galley slave for nineteen months. under the lash and, what grieved him even more, constantly plied with suggestions that he should "commit idolatry" in praying to the image of mary, his heart grew bitter against the french and their religion. released, either through the influence of the english government, [sidenote: january ] or by an exchange of prisoners, knox spent the next five years in england. after filling positions as preacher at berwick and newcastle, [sidenote: ] he was appointed royal chaplain and was offered the bishopric of rochester, which he declined because he foresaw the troubles under mary. as the pioneer of puritanism in england he used his influence to make the book of common prayer more protestant. not long after mary's accession knox fled to the continent, spending a few years at frankfort and geneva. he was much impressed by "that notable servant of { } god, john calvin" whose system he adopted with political modifications of his own. in the meantime things were not going well in scotland. the country had suffered another severe defeat [sidenote: september , ] at the hands of the english in the battle of pinkie. the government was largely in the hands of the queen dowager, mary of lorraine, who naturally favored france, and who married her daughter, the queen of scots, to the dauphin francis, [sidenote: april , ] both of them being fifteen years old. by treaty she conveyed scotland to the king of france, acting on the good old theory that her people were a chattel. though the pact, with its treason to the people, was secret, its purport was guessed by all. whereas the accession of francis ii momentarily bound scotland closer to france, his death in the following year again cut her loose, and allowed her to go her own way. all the while the reformed party had been slowly growing in strength. somerset took care to send plenty of english bibles across the cheviot hill, rightly seeing in them the best emissaries of the english interest. the scotch were drawn towards england by the mildness of her government as much as they were alienated from france by the ferocity of hers. in scotland the english party, when it had the chance, made no catholic martyrs, but the french party continued to put heretics to death. the execution of the aged walter milne, [sidenote: ] the last of the victims of the catholic persecution, excited especial resentment. knox now returned to his own country for a short visit. [sidenote: knox, august, ] he there preached passionately against the mass and addressed a letter to the regent mary of lorraine, begging her to favor the gospel. this she treated as a joke, and, after knox had departed, she sentenced him to death and burnt him in effigy. from geneva he continued to be the chief adviser of the { } protestant party whose leaders drew up a "common band," usually known as the first scottish covenant. [sidenote: december , ] the signers, including a large number of nobles and gentlemen headed by the earls of argyle, glencairn and morton, promised to apply their whole power, substance and lives to maintain, set forward and establish "the most blessed word of god and his congregation." under the protection of this bond, reformed churches were set up openly. the lords of the congregation, as they were called, demanded that penal statutes against heretics be abrogated and "that it be lawful to us to use ourselves in matters of religion and conscience as we must answer to god." this scheme of toleration was too advanced for the time. [sidenote: ] as the assistance of knox was felt to be desirable, the lords of the congregation urgently requested his return. [sidenote: ] before doing so he published his "appellation" [sidenote: may , ] to the nobles, estates and commonalty against the sentence of death recently passed on him. when he did arrive in edinburgh, his preaching was like a match set to kindling wood. wherever he went burst forth the flame of iconoclasm. images were broken and monasteries stormed not, as he himself wrote, by gentlemen or by "earnest professors of christ," but by "the rascal multitude." in reckoning the forces of revolution, the joy of the mob in looting must not be forgotten. [sidenote: may ] from perth knox wrote: "the places of idolatry were made equal with the ground; all monuments of idolatry that could be apprehended, consumed with fire; and priests commanded, under pain of death, to desist from their blasphemous mass." similar outbursts occurred at st. andrews, and when knox returned to edinburgh, civil war seemed imminent. pamphlets of the time, like _the beggars' warning_, [sidenote: ] distinctly made the threat of social revolution. { } but as a matter of fact the change came as the most bloodless in europe. the reformers, popular with the middle and with part of the upper classes, needed only to win english support to make themselves perfectly secure. the difficulty in this course lay in queen elizabeth's natural dislike of knox on account of his _first blast of the trumpet against the monstrous regiment of women_. in this war-whoop, aimed against the marys of england and scotland, knox had argued that "to promote a woman to bear rule, superiority, dominion or empire above any realm is repugnant to nature, contrary to god, and, finally, it is the subversion of good order and of all equity and justice." the author felt not a little embarrassment when a protestant woman ascended the throne of england and he needed her help. but to save his soul he "that never feared nor flattered any flesh" could not admit that he was in the wrong, nor take back aught that he had said. he seems to have acted on barry lyndon's maxim that "a gentleman fights but never apologizes." when he wrote elizabeth, [sidenote: july , ] all he would say was that he was not her enemy and had never offended her or her realm maliciously or of purpose. he seasoned this attempt at reconciliation by adding a stinging rebuke to the proud young queen for having "declined from god and bowed to idolatry," during her sister's reign, for fear of her life. but the advantages of union outweighed such minor considerations as bad manners, and early in a league was formed between england and the lords of the congregation. shortly after the death of mary of lorraine [sidenote: june , ] the treaty of edinburgh [sidenote: treaty of edinburgh, july ] was signed between the queen of england and the lords of scotland. this provided: ( ) that all english and french troops be sent out of scotland except french; ( ) that all warlike preparations cease; ( ) that the { } berwickshire citadel of the sea, eyemouth, be dismantled; ( ) that mary and francis should disuse the english title and arms; ( ) that philip of spain should arbitrate certain points, if necessary; ( ) that elizabeth had not acted wrongfully in making a league with the lords of the congregation. mary and francis refused to ratify this treaty. a supplementary agreement was proposed between mary stuart and her rebellious protestant subjects. she promised to summon parliament at once, to make neither war nor peace without the consent of the estates, and to govern according to the advice of a council of twelve chosen jointly by herself and the estates. she promised to give no high offices to strangers or to clergymen; and she extended to all a general amnesty. [sidenote: revolution] the summons of parliament immediately after these negotiations proved as disastrous to the old régime as the assembly of the french estates general in . though bloodless, the scotch revolution was as thorough, in its own small way, as that of robespierre. religion was changed and a new distribution of political power secured, transferring the ascendency of the crown and of the old privileged orders to a class of "new men," low-born ministers of the kirk, small "lairds" and burgesses. the very constitution of the new parliament was revolutionary. in the old legislative assemblies between ten and twenty greater barons were summoned; in the parliament of no less than small barons assembled, and it was to them, together with the burgesses of the cities, that the adoption of the new religion was due. a confession of faith, [sidenote: scottish confession] on extreme calvinistic lines, had been drawn up by knox and his fellows; this was presented to parliament and adopted with only eight dissenting voices, those of five laymen and three bishops. the minority was overawed, not only by the majority in { } parliament but by the public opinion of the capital and of the whole lowlands. [sidenote: laws of the estates] just a week after the adoption of the confession, the estates passed three laws: ( ) abolishing the pope's authority and all jurisdiction by catholic prelates; ( ) repealing all previous statutes in favor of the roman church; ( ) forbidding the celebration of mass. the law calls it "wicked idolatry" and provides that "no manner of person nor persons say mass, nor yet hear mass, nor be present thereat under pain of confiscation of all their goods movable and immovable and punishing their bodies at the discretion of the magistrate." the penalty for the third offence was made death, and all officers were commanded to "take diligent suit and inquisition" to prevent the celebration of the catholic rite. in reality, persecution was extremely mild, simply because there was hardly any resistance. scarcely three catholic martyrs can be named, and there was no pilgrimage of grace. this is all the more remarkable in that probably three-fourths of the people were still catholic. the reformation, like most other revolutions, was the work not of the majority, but of that part of the people that had the energy and intelligence to see most clearly and act most strongly. for the first time in scotch history a great issue was submitted to a public opinion sufficiently developed to realize its importance. the great choice was made not by counting heads but by weighing character. the burgher class having seized the reins of government proceeded to use them in the interests of their kirk. the prime duty of the state was asserted to be the maintenance of the true religion. ministers were paid by the government. almost any act of government might be made the subject of interference by the church, for knox's profession, "with the policy, mind { } us to meddle no further than it hath religion mixed in it," was obviously an elastic and self-imposed limitation. [sidenote: theocracy] the character of the kirk was that of a democratic, puritanical theocracy. the real rulers of it, and through it of the state, were the ministers and elders elected by the people. the democracy of the kirk consisted in the rise of most of these men from the lower ranks of the people; its theocracy in the claim of these men, once established in moses' seat, to interpret the commands of god. "i see," said queen mary, after a conversation with knox, "that my subjects shall obey you rather than me." "madam," replied knox, "my study is that both princes and people shall obey god"--but, of course, the voice of the pulpit was the voice of god. as a contemporary put it: "knox is king; what he wills obeyit is." finally the kirk was a tyranny, as a democracy may well be. in life, in manners, in thought, the citizen was obliged, under severe social penalty, to conform exactly to a very narrow standard. [sidenote: queen mary in scotland, august , ] when queen mary, a widow eighteen years old, landed in scotland, she must have been aware of the thorny path she was to tread. it is impossible not to pity her, the spoiled darling of the gayest court of europe, exposed to the bleak skies and bleaker winds of doctrines at edinburgh. endowed with high spirit, courage, no little cleverness and much charm, she might have mastered the situation had her character or discretion equaled her intellect and beauty. but, thwarted, nagged and bullied by men whose religion she hated, whose power she feared and whose low birth she despised, she became more and more reckless in the pursuit of pleasure until she was tangled in a network of vice and crime, and delivered helpless into the hands of her enemies. { } her true policy, and the one which she began to follow, was marked out for her by circumstances. scotland was to her but the stepping-stone to the throne of england. as elizabeth's next heir she might become queen either through the death of the reigning sovereign, or as the head of a catholic rebellion. at first she prudently decided to wait for the natural course of events, selecting as her secretary of state maitland, "the scottish cecil," a staid politician bent on keeping friends with england. but at last growing impatient, she compromised herself in the catholic plots and risings of the disaffected southerners. so, while aspiring to three crowns, mary showed herself incapable of keeping even the one she had. not religion but her own crimes and follies caused her downfall, but it was over religion that the first clash with her subjects came. she would have liked to restore catholicism, though this was not her first object, for she would have been content to be left in the private enjoyment of her own worship. even on this the stalwarts of the kirk looked askance. knox preached as mary landed that one mass was more terrible to him than ten thousand armed invaders. mary sent for him, hoping to win the hard man by a display of feminine and queenly graciousness. [sidenote: august -december ] in all he had five interviews with her, picturesquely described by himself. on his side there were long, stern sermons on the duties of princes and the wickedness of idolatry, all richly illustrated with examples drawn from the sacred page. on her side there was "howling together with womanly weeping," "more howling and tears above that the matter did require," "so many tears that her chamber-boy could scarce get napkins enough to dry her eyes." with absurdly unconscious offensiveness and egotism knox began acquaintance with his sovereign by remarking that he was as well { } content to live under her as paul under nero. previously he had maintained that the government was set up to control religion; now he informed mary that "right religion took neither original nor authority from worldly princes but from the eternal god alone." "'think ye,' quoth she, 'that subjects, having power, may resist their princes?' 'if princes exceed their bounds, madam, they may be resisted and even deposed,'" replied knox. mary's marriage was the most urgent immediate question of policy. when knox took the liberty of discussing it with her she burst out: "what have you to do with my marriage? or what are you within this commonwealth?" "a subject born within the same," superbly retorted the east lothian peasant, "and though neither earl, lord nor baron, god has made me a profitable member." [sidenote: marriage with darnley, july ] determined, quite excusably, to please herself rather than her advisers in the choice of a husband, mary selected her cousin henry stuart lord darnley; a "long lad" not yet twenty. the marriage was celebrated in july, ; the necessary papal dispensation therefor was actually drawn up on september but was thoughtfully provided with a false date as of four months earlier. almost from the first the marriage was wretchedly unhappy. the petulant boy insisted on being treated as king, whereas mary allowed him only "his due." darnley was jealous, probably with good cause, of his wife's italian secretary, david riccio, and murdered him in mary's presence; [sidenote: march , ] "an action worthy of all praise," pontificated knox. with this crime begins in earnest that sickening tale of court intrigue and blackest villainy that has commonly passed as the then history of scotland. to revenge her beloved secretary mary plotted with a new paramour, the earl of bothwell, an able soldier, a { } nominal protestant and an evil liver. on the night of february - , , the house of kirk o' field near edinburgh where darnley was staying and where his wife had but just left him, was blown up by gunpowder and later his dead body was found near by. public opinion at once laid the crime at the right doors, and it did not need mary's hasty marriage with bothwell [sidenote: marriage with bothwell, may , ] to confirm the suspicion of her complicity. the path of those opposed to the queen was made easier by the fact that she now had an heir, james, [sidenote: james vi, june , ] of scotland the sixth and afterwards of england the first. the temper of the people of edinburgh was indicated by the posting up of numerous placards accusing bothwell and mary. one of these was a banner on which was painted a little boy kneeling and crowned, and thereon the legend: "avenge the death of my father!" deeds followed words; [sidenote: july ] parliament compelled the queen under threat of death to abdicate in favor of her son and to appoint her half-brother, the earl of moray, regent. at the coronation of the infant king knox preached. [sidenote: july ] a still more drastic step was taken when parliament declared mary guilty of murder [sidenote: december ] and formally deposed her from the throne. that mary really was guilty in the fullest degree there can be no reasonable doubt. an element of mystery has been added to the situation by a dispute over the genuineness of a series of letters and poems purporting to have been written by mary to bothwell and known collectively as the casket letters. they were discovered in a suspiciously opportune way by her enemies. the originals not being extant, some historians have regarded them in whole or in part as forgeries, but robertson, ranke, froude, andrew lang and pollard accept them as genuine. this is my opinion, but it seems to me that the fascination of { } mystery has lent the documents undue importance. had they never been found mary's guilt would have been established by circumstantial evidence. mary was confined for a short time in the castle of lochleven, but contrived to escape. as she approached glasgow she risked a battle, [sidenote: may, ] but her troops were defeated and she fled to england. throwing herself on elizabeth's mercy she found prison and finally, after nineteen years, the scaffold. an inquiry was held concerning her case, but no verdict was rendered because it did not suit elizabeth to degrade her sister sovereign more than was necessary. not for the murder of her husband, but for complicity in a plot against elizabeth, was mary finally condemned to die. in spite of the fact that she did everything possible to disgrace herself more deeply than ever, such as pensioning the assassin of her brother moray, her sufferings made her the martyr of sentimentalists, and pieces of embroidery or other possessions of the beautiful queen have been handed down as the precious relics of a saint.[ ] all the murderous intrigues just narrated contributed thoroughly to disgrace the catholic and royalist party. the revolution had left society dissolved, full of bloodthirsty and false men. but though the protestants had their share of such villains, they also had the one consistent and public-spirited element in the kingdom, namely knox and his immediate followers. moray was a man rather above the average respectability and he confirmed the triumph of protestantism in the lowlands in the few short years preceding his assassination in january, . but by this time the revolution had been so firmly accomplished that nothing could shake it. the deposition of a queen, though { } a defiance of all the catholic powers and of all the royalist sentiment of europe, had succeeded. the young king was brought up a protestant, and his mind was so thoroughly turned against his mother that he acquiesced without a murmur in her execution. at last peace and security smiled upon north britain. [sidenote: preparation for union with england] the coming event of the union with england cast its beneficent shadow over the reign of elizabeth's successor. [sidenote: absolution] the reformation ran the same course as in england earlier; one is almost tempted to hypostatize it and say that it took the bit between its teeth and ran away with its riders. actually, the man cast for the rôle of henry viii was james vi; the slobbering pedant without drawing the sword did what his abler ancestors could not do after a life-time of battle. he made himself all but absolute, and this, demonstrably, as head of the kirk. in parliament passed a series of statutes known as the black acts, putting the bodies and souls of the scotch under the yoke of the king, who was now pope as well. in the whole property of the pre-reformation church, with some trifling exceptions, was confiscated and put at the king's disposition. as in england, so here, the lands of abbeys and of prelates was thrown to new men of the pushing, commercial type. thus was founded a landed aristocracy with interests distinct from the old barons and strong in supporting both king and reformation. [sidenote: reaction in the kirk, ] it is true that this condition was but temporary. just as in england later the parliament and the puritans called the crown to account, so in scotland the kirk continued to administer drastic advice to the monarch and finally to put direct legal pressure upon him. the black acts were abrogated by parliament in and from that time forth ensued a struggle between the { } king and the presbyteries which, in the opinion of the former, agreed as well together as god and the devil. still more after his accession to the english throne james came to prefer the episcopal form of church government as more subservient, and to act on the maxim, "no bishop, no king." [ ] could he have been david borthwick or david lyndsay? see luther's letters and _dictionary of national biography_. [ ] such a piece of embroidery has been kept in my mother's family from that day to this. { } chapter viii the counter-reformation section . italy it is sometimes so easy to see, after the event, why things should have taken just the course they did take, that it may seem remarkable that political foresight is so rare. it is probable, however, that the study of history not only illumines many things, and places them in their true perspective, but also tends to simplify too much, overemphasizing, to our minds, the elements that finally triumphed and casting those that succumbed into the shadow. [sidenote: italy] however this may be, italy of the sixteenth century appears to offer an unusually clear case of a logical sequence of effects due to previously ascertainable causes. that italy should toy with the reformation without accepting it, that she should finally suppress it and along with it much of her own spiritual life, seems to be entirely due to her geographical, political and cultural condition at the time when she felt the impact of the new ideas. in all these respects, indeed, there was something that might at first blush have seemed favorable to the lutheran revolt. few lands were more open to german and swiss influences than was their transalpine neighbor. commercially, italy and germany were united by a thousand bonds, and a constant influx of northern travellers, students, artists, officials and soldiers, might be supposed to carry with them the contagion of the new ideas. again, the lack of political unity might be supposed, as in germany, so in italy, { } to facilitate sectional reformation. finally, the renaissance, with its unparalleled freedom of thought and its strong anti-clerical bias, would at least insure a fair hearing for innovations in doctrine and ecclesiastical ideals. and yet, as even contemporaries saw, there were some things which weighed far more heavily in the scale of catholicism than did those just mentioned in the scale of protestantism. in the first place the autonomy of the political divisions was more apparent than real. too weak and too disunited to offer resistance to any strong foreign power, contended for by the three greatest, italy became gradually more and more a spanish dependency. after pavia [sidenote: ] and the treaty of cateau-cambrésis [sidenote: ] french influence was reduced to a threat rather than a reality. naples had long been an appendage of the spanish crown; milan was now wrested from the french, and one after another most of the smaller states passed into spain's "sphere of influence." the strongest of all the states, the papal dominions, became in reality, if not nominally, a dependency of the emperor after the sack of rome. [sidenote: ] tuscany, savoy and venetia maintained a semblance of independence, but savoy was at that time hardly italian. venice had passed the zenith of her power, and florence, even under her brilliant duke cosimo de' medici [sidenote: cosimo de' medici, - ] was amenable to the pressure of the spanish soldier and the spanish priest. enormous odds were thrown against the reformers because italy was the seat of the papacy. in spite of all hatred of roman morals and in spite of all distrust of roman doctrine, this was a source of pride and of advantage of the whole country. as long as tribute flowed from all western europe, as long as kings and emperors kissed the pontiff's toe, rome was still in a sense the capital of christendom. an example of how { } the papacy was both served and despised has been left us by the florentine statesman and historian [sidenote: guiccidardini, - ] guiccidardini: "so much evil cannot be said of the roman curia," he wrote, "that more does not deserve to be said of it, for it is an infamy, an example of all the shame and wickedness of the world." he might have been supposed to be ready to support any enemy of such an institution, but what does he say? no man dislikes more than do i the ambition, avarice and effeminacy of the priests, not only because these vices are hateful in themselves but because they are especially unbecoming to men who have vowed a life dependent upon god. . . . nevertheless, my employment with several popes has forced me to desire their greatness for my own advantage. but for this consideration i should have loved luther like myself, not to free myself from the silly laws of christianity as commonly understood, but to put this gang of criminals under restraint, so that they might live either without vices or without power. from this precious text we learn much of the inner history of contemporary italy. as far as the italian mind was liberated in religion it was atheistic, as far as it was reforming it went no further than rejection of the hierarchy. the enemies to be dreaded by rome were, as the poet luigi alamanni wrote, [sidenote: alamanni, - ] not luther and germany, but her own sloth, drunkenness, avarice, ambition, sensuality and gluttony. the great spiritual factor that defeated protestantism in italy was not catholicism but the renaissance. [sidenote: renaissance vs. reformation] deeply imbued with the tincture of classical learning, naturally speculative and tolerant, the italian mind had already advanced, in its best representatives, far beyond the intellectual stage of the reformers. the hostility of the renaissance to the reformation was a deep and subtle antithesis of the interests of this world { } and of the next. it is notable that whereas some philosophical minds, like that of the brilliant olympia morata, who had once been completely skeptical, later came under the influence of luther, there was not one artist of the first rank, not one of the greatest poets, that seems to have been in the least attracted by him. a few minor poets, like folengo, [sidenote: folengo, - ] showed traces of his influence, but ariosto and tasso were bitterly hostile. [sidenote: ariosto, ] the former cared only for his fantastic world of chivalry and faery, and when he did mention, in a satire dedicated to bembo, that friar martin had become a heretic as nicoletto had become an infidel, the reason in both cases is that they had overstrained their intellects in the study of metaphysical theology, "because when the mind soars up to see god it is no wonder that, it falls down sometimes blind and confused." heresy he elsewhere pictures as a devastating monster. { } but there was a third reason why the reformation could not succeed in italy, and that was that it could not catch the ear of the common people. if for the churchman it was a heresy, and for the free-thinker a superstition, for the "general public" of ordinarily educated persons it was an aristocratic fad. those who did embrace its doctrines and read its books, and they were not a few of the second-rate humanists, cherished it as their fathers had cherished the neo-platonism of pico della mirandola, as an esoteric philosophy. so little inclined were they to bring their faith to the people that they preferred to translate the bible into better greek or classical latin rather than into the vulgar tuscan. and just at the moment when it seemed as if a popular movement of some sort might result from the efforts of the reformers, or in spite of them, came the roman inquisition and nipped the budding plant. [sidenote: christian renaissance] but between the levels of the greatest intellectual leaders and that of the illiterate masses, there was a surprising number of groups of men and women more or less tinctured with the doctrines of the north. and yet, even here, one must add that their religion was seldom pure lutheranism or calvinism; it was christianized humanism. there was the brilliant woman vittoria colonna, who read with rapture the doctrine of justification by faith, but who remained a conforming catholic all her life. there was ochino, the general of the capuchins, whose defection caused a panic at rome but who remained, nevertheless, an independent rather than an orthodox protestant. of like quality were peter martyr vermigli, an exile for his faith, and jerome bolsec, a native of france but an inhabitant of ferrara, whence he took to geneva an eccentric doctrine that caused much trouble to calvin. finally, it was perfectly in accordance with the italian genius that the most radical of protestant dissenters, the unitarians lelio and fausto sozzini, should have been born in siena. among the little nests of lutherans or christian mystics the most important were at venice, ferrara and naples. as early as luther's books found their way to venice, and in one of the leading canon lawyers in the city wrote an elaborate refutation of them, together with a letter to the reformer himself, informing him that his act of burning the papal decretals was worse than that of judas in betraying, or of pilate in crucifying, christ. the first sufferer for the new religion was jerome galateo. [sidenote: ] nevertheless, the new church waxed strong, and many were executed for their opinions. a correspondence of the brethren with bucer and luther has been preserved. in one letter they deeply deplore the schisms on the doctrine of the eucharist as hurtful to their cause. the { } famous artist lorenzo lotto [sidenote: ] was employed to paint pictures of luther and his wife, probably copies of cranach. the appearance of the socinians about , and the mutual animosity of the several sects, including the anabaptist, was destructive. probably more fatal was the disaster of the schmalkaldic war and the complete triumph of the emperor. the inquisition finished the work of crushing out what remained of the new doctrines. [sidenote: naples] that naples became a focus of protestantism was due mainly to john de valdes, a deeply religious spaniard. from his circle went out a treatise on justification entitled _the benefit of christ's death_, by benedict of mantua, of which no less than , copies were sold, for it was the one reforming work to enjoy popularity rivalling that of luther and erasmus. influenced by valdes, also, bartholomew forzio translated luther's _address to the german nobility_ into italian. [sidenote: ferrara] at the court of ferrara the duchess, renée de france, gathered a little circle of protestants. calvin himself spent some time here, and his influence, together with the high protection of his patroness, made the place a fulcrum against rome. isabella d'este, originally of ferrara and later marchioness of mantua, one of the brilliant women of the renaissance, for a while toyed with the fashionable theology. cardinal bembo saw at her castle at mantua paintings of erasmus and luther. [sidenote: ] one of the courtly poets of northern italy, francis berni, bears witness to the good repute of the protestants. in his _rifacimento_ of boiardo's _orlando inamorato_, he wrote: "some rascal hypocrites snarl between their teeth, 'freethinker! lutheran!' but lutheran means, you know, good christian." [sidenote: roman prelates affected by luther] the most significant sign of the times, and the most ominous for the papacy, was that among those affected by the leaven of lutheranism were many of the leading { } luminaries in the bosom of the church. that the florentine chronicler bartholomew cerratani expressed his hope that luther's distinguished morals, piety and learning should reform the curia was bad enough; that the papal nuncio vergerio, after being sent on a mission to wittenberg, should go over to the enemy, was worse; that cardinals like contarini and pole should preach justification by faith and concede much that the protestants asked, was worst of all. "no one now passes at rome," wrote peter anthony bandini about , "as a cultivated man or a good courtier who does not harbor some heretical opinions." paul sarpi, the eminent historian of trent, reports that luther's arguments were held to be unanswerable at rome, but that he was resisted in order that authority might be uphold. for this statement he appeals to a diary of francis chieregato, an eminent ecclesiastic who died on december , . as the diary has not been found, lord acton rejects the assertion, believing that sarpi's word cannot be taken unsupported. but a curious confirmation of sarpi's assertion, [sidenote: sarpi's assertion] and one that renders it acceptable, is found in luther's table talk. speaking on february , , he says that he has heard from rome that it was there believed to be impossible to refute him until st. paul had been deposed. ho regarded this as a signal testimony to the truth of his doctrines; to us it is valuable only as an evidence of roman opinion. it is not too much to say that at about that time the most distinguished italian prelates were steering for wittenberg and threatened to take rome with them. how they failed is the history of the counter-reformation. section . the papacy. - nothing can better indicate the consternation caused at rome by the appearance of the lutheran revolt than { } the fact that for the first time in years and for the last time in history the cardinals elected as supreme pontiff a man who was not an italian, adrian of utrecht. [sidenote: adrian vi, -september ] after teaching theology at louvain he had been appointed tutor to prince charles and, on the accession of his pupil to the spanish throne was created bishop of tortosa, and shortly thereafter cardinal and inquisitor general of spain. while in this country he distinguished himself equally by the justness of his administration and by his bitter hatred of luther, against whom he wrote several letters both to his imperial master and to his old colleagues at louvain. [sidenote: december ] the death of leo x was followed by an unusually long conclave, on account of the even balance of parties. at last, despairing of agreement, and feeling also that extraordinary measures were needed to meet the exigencies of the situation, the cardinals, in january, offered the tiara to adrian, who, alone among modern popes, kept his baptismal name while in office. the failure of adrian vi to accomplish much was due largely to the shortness of his pontificate of only twenty months, and still more to the invincible corruption he found at rome. his really high sense of duty awakened no response save fear and hatred among the courtiers of the medicis. when he tried to restore the ruined finances of the church he was accused of niggardliness; when he made war on abuses he was called a barbarian; when he frankly confessed, in his appeal to the german diets, that perchance the whole evil infecting the church came from the rottenness of the curia, he was assailed as putting arms into the arsenal of the enemy. his greatest crime in the eyes of his court was that he was a foreigner, an austere, phlegmatic man, who could understand neither their tongue nor their ways. { } exhausted by the fruitless struggle, adrian sank into his grave, a good pope unwept and unhonored as few bad popes have ever been. on his tomb the cardinals wrote: "here lies adrian vi whose supreme misfortune in life was that he was called upon to rule." a like judgment was expressed more wittily by the people, who erected a monument to adrian's physician and labeled it, "liberatori patriae." [sidenote: clement vii, - ] the swing of the pendulum so often noticed in politics was particularly marked in the elections to the papacy of the sixteenth century. in almost every instance the new pope was an opponent, and in some sort a contrast, to his predecessor. in no case was this more true than in the election of . deciding that if adrian's methods were necessary to save the church the medicine was worse than the disease, the cardinals lost no time in raising another medici to the throne. like all of his race, clement vii was a patron of art and literature, and tolerant of abuses. personally moral and temperate, he cared little save for an easy life and the advancement of the three balls. he began that policy, which nearly proved fatal to the church, of treating the protestants with alternate indulgence and severity. but for himself the more immediate trouble came not from the enemy of the church but from its protector. though adrian was an old officer of charles v, it was really in the reign of clement that the process began by which first italy, then the papacy, then the whole church was put under the spanish yoke. [sidenote: spanish influence, - ] after pavia and the treaty of madrid had eliminated french influence, charles naturally felt his power and naturally intended to have it respected even by the pope. irritated by clement's perpetual deceit and intrigue with france, charles addressed to him, in , a document which ranke calls the most { } formidable ever used by any catholic prince to a pope during the century, containing passages "of which no follower of luther need be ashamed." [sidenote: sack of rome, may and september ] rather to threaten the pope than to make war on him, charles gathered a formidable army of german and spanish soldiers in the north under the command of his general frundsberg. all the soldiers were restless and mutinous for want of pay, and in addition to this a powerful motive worked among the german landsknechts. many of them were lutheran and looked to the conquest of rome as the triumph of their cause. as they loudly demanded to be lead against antichrist, frundsberg found that his authority was powerless to stop them. [sidenote: march , ] when he died of rage and mortification the french traitor charles, constable of bourbon, was appointed by the emperor in his place, and, finding there was nothing else to do, led the army against rome and promised the soldiers as much booty as they could take. twice, in may and september, the city was put to the horrors of a sack, with all the atrocities of murder, theft and rapine almost inseparable from war. in addition to plundering, the lutherans took particular pleasure in desecrating the objects of veneration to the catholics. many an image and shrine was destroyed, while luther was acclaimed pope by his boisterous champions. but far away on the elbe he heard of the sack and expressed his sorrow for it. the importance of the sack of rome, like that of other dramatic events, is apt to be exaggerated. it has been called the end of the renaissance and the beginning of the catholic reaction. it was neither the one nor the other, but only one incident in the long, stubborn process of the hispanization of italy and the church. for centuries no emperor had had so much power in italy as had charles. with naples and { } milan were now linked siena and genoa under his rule; the states of the church were virtually at his disposal, and even florence, under its hereditary duke, alexander de' medici, was for a while under the control of the pope and through him, of charles. nor did the fall of the holy city put the fear of god into the hearts of the prelates for more than a moment. the medici, clement, who never sold his soul but only pawned it from time to time, without entirely abandoning the idea of reform, indefinitely postponed it. procrastinating, timid, false, he was not the man to deal with serious abuses. he toyed with the idea of a council but when, on the mere rumor that a council was to be called the prices of all salable offices dropped in a panic, he hesitated. moreover he feared the council would be used by the emperor to subordinate him even in spiritual matters. perhaps he meant well, but abuses were too lucrative to be lightly affronted. as to lutheranism, clement was completely misinformed and almost completely indifferent. while he and the emperor were at odds it grew mightily. here as elsewhere he was irresolute; his pontificate, as a contemporary wrote, was "one of scruples, considerations and discords, of buts and ifs and thens and moreovers, and plenty of words without effect." [sidenote: paul iii, - ] the pontificate of paul iii marks the turning point in the catholic reaction. under him the council of trent was at last opened; the new orders, especially the jesuits, were formed, and such instrumentalities as the inquisition and index of prohibited books put on a new footing. paul iii, a farnese from the states of the church, owed his election partly to his strength of character, partly to the weakness of his health, for the cardinals liked frequent vacancies in the holy see. cautious and choleric, prolix and stubborn, he had a real desire for reform and an earnest wish to avoid { } quarrels with either of the great powers that menaced him, the emperor and france. the reforming spirit of the pope showed itself in the appointment of several men of the highest character to the cardinalate, among them gaspar contarini and fisher, bishop of rochester. in other cases, however, the exigencies of politics induced the nomination of bad men, such as del monte and david beaton. at the same time a commission was named to recommend practical reforms. the draft for a bull they presented for this purpose was rejected by the consistory, but some of their recommendations, such as the prohibition of the roman clergy to visit taverns, theaters and gambling dens, were adopted. [sidenote: may, _consilium delectorum cardinalium et aliorum praelatorum_] a second commission of nine ecclesiastics of high character, including john peter caraffa, contarini, pole and giberti, was created to make a comprehensive report on reform. the important memorial they drew up fully exposed the prevalent abuses. the root of all they found in the exaggeration of the papal power of collation and the laxity with which it was used. not only were morally unworthy men often made bishops and prelates, but dispensations for renunciation of benefices, for absenteeism and for other hurtful practices were freely sold. the commission demanded drastic reform of these abuses as well as of the monastic orders, and called for the abolition of the venal exercise of spiritual authority by legates and nuncios. but the reform memorial, excellent and searching as it was, led to nothing. at most it was of some use as a basis of reforms made by the council of trent later. but for the moment it only rendered the position of the church more difficult. the reform of the dataria, for example, the office which sold graces, privileges, indults, dispensations and benefices, was { } considered impossible because half of the papal revenue, or , ducats annually, came from it. nor could the fees of the penitentiary be abolished for fear of bankruptcy, though in they were partially reduced. [sidenote: ] the most obvious results of the consilium was to put another weapon into the hands of the lutherans. published by an unauthorized person, it was at once seized upon by the reformers as proof of the hopeless depravity of the curia. so dangerous did it prove to simple-minded catholics that it was presently put on the index! paul's diplomacy tried to play off the empire against france and to divert the attention of both to a crusade against the turk. hoping to advance the cause of the church by means of the war declared by charles v on the schmalkaldic league, the pope, in return for a subsidy, exacted a declaration in the treaty, that the reason of the war was religious and the occasion for it the refusal of the protestants to recognize the council of trent's authority. but when charles was victor he used his advantage only to strengthen his own prerogative, not effectively to suppress heresy. paul now dreaded the emperor more than he did the protestants and his position was not made easier by the threat of charles to come to terms with the lutherans did paul succeed in rousing france against him. in fact, with all his squirming, paul iii only sank deeper into the spanish vassalage, while the championship of the church passed from his control into that of new agencies that he had created. [sidenote: julius iii, - ] it was perhaps an effort to free the holy see from the spanish yoke that led the cardinals to raise to the purple, as julius iii, cardinal john mary ciocchi del monte who as one of the presidents of the oecumenical council had distinguished himself by his opposition to { } the emperor. nevertheless his pontificate marked a relaxation of the church's effort, for policy or strength to pursue reform he had none. [sidenote: marcellus ii, april -may , ] marcellus ii, who was pope for twenty-two days, would hardly be remembered save for the noble mass of pope marcellus dedicated to him by palestrina. with the elevation of cardinal caraffa to the tiara peter's keys [sidenote: paul iv, - ] were once more restored to strong hands and a reforming heart. the founder of the theatines was a hot-blooded neapolitan still, in spite of his seventy-nine years, hale and hearty. among the reforms he accomplished were some regulations relating to the residence of bishops and some rules for the bridling of jews, usurers, prostitutes, players and mountebanks. but he was unable to reform himself. he advanced his young kinsmen shamelessly to political office. his jealousy of the jesuits, in whom he saw a rival to his own order, not only caused him to neglect to use them but made him put them in a very critical position. nor did he dare to summon again the council that had been prorogued, for fear that some stronger power should use it against himself. he chafed under the spanish yoke, coming nearer to a conflict with charles v and his son philip ii than any pope had ventured to do. he even thought of threatening philip with the inquisition, but was restrained by prudence. in his purpose of freeing italy from foreign domination he accomplished nothing whatever. [sidenote: pius iv, - ] pius iv was a contrast to the predecessor whom he hated. john angelo medici, of milan, not connected with the florentine family, was a cheerful, well-wishing, beneficent man, genial and fond of life, a son of the renaissance, a patron of art and letters. the choice of a name often expresses the ideals and tendencies of a pope; that of pius was chosen perhaps in imitation { } of pius ii, aeneas sylvius piccolomini, the most famous humanist to sit on the fisherman's throne. and yet the spirit of the times no longer allowed the gross licentiousness of the earlier age, and the cause of reform progressed not a little under the diplomatic guidance of the milanese. in the first place, doubtless from personal motives, he made a fearful example of the kinsmen of his predecessor, four of whom he executed chiefly for the reason that they had been advanced by papal influence. this salutary example practically put an end to nepotism; at least the unfortunate nephews of paul iv were the last to aspire to independent principalities solely on the strength of kinship to a pope. [sidenote: reforms] the demand for the continuation and completion of the general council, which had become loud, was acceded to by pius who thought, like the american boss, that at times it was necessary to "pander to the public conscience." the happy issue of the council, from his point of view, in its complete submissiveness to the papal prerogative, led pius to emphasize the spiritual rather than the political claims of the hierarchy. in this the church made a great gain, for, as the history of the time shows plainly, in the game of politics the papacy could no longer hold its own against the national states surrounding it. pius leaned heavily on philip, for by this time spain had become the acknowledged champion of the church, but he was able to do so without loss of prestige because of the gradual separation of the temporal from the spiritual power. among his measures the most noteworthy was one regulating the powers of the college of cardinals, while their exclusive right to elect the pontiff was maintained against the pretensions of the council. the best catholic spirit of the time was represented in { } cardinal charles borromeo, archbishop of milan, an excellent prelate who sought to win back members of christ to the fold by his good example, while he did not disdain to use the harsher methods of persecution when necessary. among the amiable weaknesses of pius was the belief, inherited from a bygone age, that the protestants might still be reunited to the church by a few concessions, such as those of the marriage of the clergy and the use of the cup by the laity. [sidenote: pius v, - ] with pius v a sterner spirit entered into the councils of the church. the election of the dominican and chief inquisitor michael ghislieri was a triumph for the policy of borromeo. his pitiless hatred of the heretics hounded catharine de' medici against the huguenots, and philip ii against the dutch. contrary to the dictates of prudence and the wishes of the greatest catholic princes, he issued the bull deposing elizabeth. but he was severe to himself, an ascetic nicknamed for his monkish narrowness "friar wooden-shoe" by the roman populace. he ruthlessly reformed the italian clergy, meting out terrible punishments to all sinners. under his leadership catholicism took the offensive in earnest and accomplished much. his zeal won him the name of saint, for he was the last of the roman pontiffs to be canonized. but the reign of sainthood coupled with absolutism is apt to grow irksome, and it was with relief that the romans hailed the election of hugo buoncompagno as gregory xiii. [sidenote: gregory xiii, - ] he did little but follow out, somewhat weakly, the paths indicated by his predecessors. so heavily did he lean on spain that he was called the chaplain of philip, but, as the obligations were mutual, and the catholic king came also to depend more and more upon the spiritual arms wielded by the papacy, it might just as well have been said that philip was the executioner employed by gregory. the { } mediocrity of his rule did not prevent notable achievement by the jesuits in the cause of the church. his reform of the calendar will be described more fully elsewhere. gregory xiii offers an opportunity to measure the moral standard of the papacy after half a century of reform. his policy was guided largely by his ruling passion, love of a natural son, born before he had taken priest's orders, whom he made gonfaloniere of the church and would have advanced to still further preferment had not his advisers objected. gregory was the pope who thanked god "for the grace vouchsafed unto christendom" in the massacre of st. bartholomew. he was also the pope who praised and encouraged the plan for the assassination of elizabeth.[ ] [sidenote: sixtus v, - ] in the person of sixtus v the spirit of pius v returned to power. felix peretti was a franciscan and an inquisitor, an earnest man and a hard one. like his predecessors pursuing the goal of absolutism, he had an advantage over them in the blessing disguised as the disaster of the spanish armada. from this time forward the papacy was forced to champion its cause with the spiritual weapons at its command, and the gain to it as a moral and religious power was enormous. in some ways it assumed the primacy of catholic europe, previously usurped by spain, and attained an influence that it had not had since the great schism of the fourteenth century. the reforms of sixtus are important rather for their comprehensive than for their drastic quality. the whole machinery of the curia was made over, the routine of business being delegated to a number of standing committees known as congregations, such as the congregation of ceremonies to watch over matters of precedence at the papal court, and the congregation { } of the consistory to prepare the work of the consistory. the number of cardinals was fixed at seventy. new editions of the breviary and of the index were carefully prepared. at the same time the moral reforms of trent were laxly carried out, for while decrees enforcing them were promulgated by sixtus with one hand, with the other he sold dispensations and privileges. [ ] _ante_, p. . section . the council of trent while the popes were enjoying their _jus incorrigibilitatis_--as luther wittily expressed it--the church was going to rack and ruin. had the safety of peter's boat been left to its captains, it would apparently have foundered in the waves of schism and heresy. no such dangerous enemy has ever attacked the church as that then issuing from her own bosom. neither the medieval heretics nor the modern philosophers have won from her in so short a time such masses of adherents. where voltaire slew his thousands luther slew his ten thousands, for voltaire appealed only to the intellect, luther appealed to the conscience. [sidenote: decline of protestantism] the extraordinary thing about the protestant conquests was their sudden end. within less than fifty years the scandinavian north, most of germany including austria, parts of hungary, poland, most of switzerland, and great britain had declared for the "gospel." france was divided and apparently going the same road; even in italy there were serious symptoms of disaffection. that within a single generation the tide should be not only stopped but rolled back is one of the most dramatic changes of fortune in history. the only country which protestantism gained after was the dutch republic. large parts of germany and poland were won back to the church, and catholicism made safe in all the latin countries. { } [sidenote: spanish revival] the spirit that accomplished this work was the spirit of spain. more extraordinary than the rapid growth of her empire was the conquest of europe by her ideals. the character of the counter-reformation was determined by her genius. it was not, as it started to be in italy, a more or less inwardly christianized renaissance. it was a distinct and powerful religious revival, and one that showed itself, as many others have done, by a mighty reaction. medievalism was restored, largely by medieval methods, the general council, the emphasis on tradition and dogma, coercion of mind and body, and the ministrations of a monastic order, new only in its discipline and effectiveness, a reduplication of the old mendicant orders in spirit and ideal. [sidenote: preparation for calling a council] the oecumenical council was so double-edged a weapon that it is not remarkable that the popes hesitated to grasp it in their war with the heretic. they had uncomfortable memories of constance and basle, of the election and deposition of popes and of decrees limiting their prerogatives. and, moreover, the council was the first authority invoked by the heretic himself. adrian might have been willing to risk such a synod, but before he had time to call one, his place was taken by the vacillating and pusillanimous clement. perpetually toying with the idea he yet allowed the pressure of his courtiers and the difficulties of the political situation--for france was opposed to the council as an imperial scheme--indefinitely to postpone the summons. the more serious-minded paul iii found another lion in his path. he for the first time really labored to summon the general synod, but he found that the protestants had now changed their position and would no longer consent to recognize its authority under any conditions to which he could possibly assent. though { } his nuncio vergerio received in germany and even in wittenberg a cordial welcome, it was soon discovered that the ideas of the proper constitution of the council entertained by the two parties were irreconciliable. fundamentally each wanted a council in which its own predominance should be assured. the schmalkaldic princes, on the advice of their theologians, asked for a free german synod in which they should have a majority vote, and in this they were supported by francis i and henry viii. naturally no pope could consent to any such measures; under these discouraging circumstances, the opening of the council was continually postponed, and in place of it the emperor held a series of religious colloquies that only served to make the differences of the two parties more prominent. [sidenote: summons of council, november , ] after several years of negotiation the path was made smooth and the bull _laetare hierusalem_ summoned a general synod to meet at trent on march , , and assigned it three tasks: ( ) the pacification of religious disputes by doctrinal decisions; ( ) the reform of ecclesiastical abuses; ( ) the discussion of a crusade against the infidel. delay still interfered with the opening of the assembly, which did not take place until december , . [sidenote: first period, - ] the council was held at three separate periods with long intervals. the first period was - , the second - , the third - . the city of trent was chosen in order to yield to the demand for a german town while at the same time selecting that one nearest to italy, for the pope was determined to keep the action of the synod under control. two measures were adopted to insure this end, the initiative and presidency of the papal legates and packing the membership. the faculties to be granted the legates were already decided upon in ; these lieutenants were to be, according to father paul sarpi, angels of peace to preside, make { } all necessary regulations, and publish them "according to custom." the phrase that the council should decide on measures, "legatis proponentibus" was simply the constitutional expression of the principal familiar in many governments, that the legislative should act only on the initiative of the executive, thus giving an immense advantage to the latter. the second means of subordinating the council was the decision to vote by heads and not by nations and to allow no proxies. this gave a constant majority to the italian prelates sent by the pope. so successful were these measures that the french ambassador bitterly jested of the holy ghost coming to trent in the mailbags from rome. [sidenote: membership] at the first session there were only thirty-four members entitled to vote: four cardinals, four archbishops, twenty-one bishops and five generals of orders. there were also present other personages, including an ambassador from king ferdinand, four spanish secular priests and a number of friars. the first question debated was the precedence of dogma or reform. regarding the council chiefly as an instrument for condemning the heretics, the pope was in favor of taking up dogma first. the emperor, on the other hand, wishing rather to conciliate the protestants and if possible to lure them back to the old church, was in favor of starting with reform. the struggle, which was carried on not so much on the floor of the synod as behind the members' backs in the intrigues of courts, was decided by a compromise to the effect that both dogma and reform should be taken up simultaneously. but all enactments dealing with ecclesiastical irregularities were to bear the proviso "under reservation of the papal authority." [sidenote: dogmatic decrees] the dogmatic decrees at trent were almost wholly oriented by the polemic against protestantism. { } practically nothing was defined save what had already been taken up in the augsburg confession or in the writings of calvin, of zwingli and of the anabaptists. inevitably, a spirit so purely defensive could not be animated by a primarily philosophical interest. the guiding star was not a system but a policy, and this policy was nothing more nor less than that of re-establishing tradition. the practice of the church was the standard applied; many an unhistorical assertion was made to justify it and many a practice of comparatively recent growth was sanctioned by the postulate that "it had descended from apostolic use." "by show of antiquity they introduce novelty," was bacon's correct judgment. [sidenote: bible and tradition] quite naturally the first of the important dogmatic decrees was on the basis of authority. the protestants had acknowledged the bible only; over against them the tridentine fathers declared for the bible _and_ the tradition of the church. the canon of scripture was different from that recognized by the protestants in that it included the apocrypha. [sidenote: justification] after passing various reform decrees on preaching, catechetical instruction, privileges of mendicants and indulgences, the council took up the thorny question of justification. discussion was postponed for some months out of consideration for the emperor, who feared it might irritate the protestants, and only gave his consent to it in the hope that some ambiguous form acceptable to that party, might be found. how deeply the solifidian doctrine had penetrated into the very bosom of the church was revealed by the storminess of the debate. the passions of the right reverend fathers were so excited by the consideration of a fundamental article of their faith that in the course of disputation they accused one another of conduct unbecoming to christians, taunted one another with { } plebeian origin and tore hair from one another's beards. the decree as finally passed established the position that faith and works together justify, and condemned the semi-lutheran doctrines of "duplicate justice" and imputed righteousness hitherto held by such eminent theologians as contarini and cajetan. having accomplished this important work the council appeared to the pope ready for dissolution. the protests of the emperor kept it together for a few months longer, but an outbreak of the spotted fever and the fear of a raid during the schmalkaldic war, served as sufficient excuses to translate the council to bologna. [sidenote: march ] though nothing was accomplished in this city the assembly was not formally prorogued until september , . [sidenote: second period, - ] under pressure from the emperor pope julius iii convoked the synod for a second time at trent on may , . the personnel was different. the jesuits lainez and salmeron were present working in the interests of the papacy. no french clergy took part as henry ii was hostile. the protestants were required to send a delegation, which was received on january , . they presented a confession, but declined to recognize the authority of a body in which they were not represented. several dogmatic decrees were passed on the sacraments, reasserting transubstantiation and all the doctrines and usages of the church. a few reform decrees were also passed, but before a great deal could be accomplished the revolt of maurice of saxony put both emperor and council in a precarious position and the latter was consequently prorogued for a second time on april , . [sidenote: third period, - ] when, after ten long years, the council again convened at the command of pius iv, in january, , it is extraordinary to see how little the problems confronting it had changed. not only was the struggle { } for power between pope and council and between pope and emperor still going on, but hopes were still entertained in some quarters of reconciling the schismatics. pius invited all princes, whether catholic or heretical, to send delegates, but was rebuffed by some of them. the argument was then taken up by the emperor ferdinand who sent in an imposing demand for reforms, including the authorization of the marriage of priests, communion in both kinds, the use of the vulgar tongue in divine service, and drastic rules for the improvement of the convents and of the papal courts. [sidenote: jesuits present] the contention over this bone among the fathers, now far more numerous than in the earlier days, waxed so hot that for ten whole months no session could be held. mobs of the partisans of the various factions fought in the streets and bitter taunts of "french diseases" and "spanish eruptions" were exchanged between them. for a time the situation seemed inextricable and one cardinal prophesied the impending downfall of the papacy. but in the nick of time to prevent such a catastrophe the pope was able to send into the field the newly recruited praetorian guards of the society of jesuits. under the command of cardinal morone these indefatigable zealots turned the flank of the opposing forces partly by intrigue at the imperial court, partly by skilful manipulation of debate. the emperor's mind was changed; reforms demanded by him were dropped. the questions actually taken up and settled were dogmatic ones, chiefly concerning the sacrifice of the mass and the perpetuation of the catholic customs of communion in one kind, the celebration of masses in honor of saints, the celebration of masses in which the priest only communicates, the mixing of water with the wine, the prohibition of the use of the vulgar tongue, and the sanction of masses for the dead. other { } decrees amended the marriage laws, and enjoined the preparation of an index of prohibited books, of a catechism and of standard editions of missal and breviary. [sidenote: subjection to papacy] how completely the council in its last estate was subdued to the will of the pope is shown by its request that the decrees should all be confirmed by him. this was done by pius iv in the bull benedictus deus. [sidenote: january , ] pius also caused to be prepared a symbol known as the tridentine profession of faith which was made binding on all priests. save that it was slightly enlarged in by the pronouncement on papal infallibility, it stands to the present day. [sidenote: reception of decrees] the complete triumph of the papal claims was offset by the cool reception which the decrees received in catholic europe. only the italian states, poland, portugal and savoy unreservedly recognized the authority of all of them. philip ii, bigot as he was, preferred to make his own rules for his clergy and recognized the laws of trent with the proviso "saving the royal rights." france sanctioned only the dogmatic, not the practical decrees. the emperor never officially recognized the work of the council at all. nor were the governments the only recalcitrants. according to sarpi the body of german catholics paid no attention to the prescribed reforms and the council was openly mocked in france as claiming an authority superior to that of the apostles. to father paul sarpi, indeed, the most intelligent observer of the next generation, the council seemed to have been a failure if not a fraud. its history he calls an iliad of woes. the professed objects of the council, healing the schism and asserting the episcopal power he thinks frustrated, for the schism was made irreconciliable and the church reduced to servitude. but the judgment of posterity has reversed that of { } the great historian, [sidenote: constructive work] at least as far as the value of the work done at trent to the cause of catholicism is concerned. if the church shut out the protestants and recognized her limited domain, she at least took appropriate measures to establish her rule over what was left. her power was now collected; her dogma was unified and made consistent as opposed to the mutually diverse protestant creeds. in several points, indeed, where the opinion of the members was divided, the words of the decrees were ambiguous, but as against the protestants they were distinct and so comprehensive as rather to supersede than to supplement earlier standards. nor should the moral impulse of the council be underestimated, ridiculed though it was by its opponents as if expressed in the maxim, "si non caste, tamen caute." sweeping decrees for urgent reforms were passed, and above all a machinery set up to carry on the good work. in providing for a catechism, for authoritative editions of the vulgate, breviary and other standard works, in regulating moot points, in striking at lax discipline, the council did a lasting service to catholicism and perhaps to the world. not the least of the practical reforms was the provision for the opening of seminaries to train the diocesan clergy. the first measure looking to this was passed in ; cardinal pole at once began to act upon it, and a decree of the third session [sidenote: ] ordered that each diocese should have such a school for the education of priests. the roman seminary, opened two years later, [sidenote: ] was a model for subsequent foundations. section . the company of jesus if the counter-reformation was in part a pure reaction to medievalism it was in part also a religious revival. if this was stimulated by the protestant { } example, it was also the outcome of the rising tide of catholic pietism in the fifteenth century. still more was it the answer to a demand on the part of the church for an instrument with which to combat the dangers of heresy and to conquer spiritually the new worlds of heathenism. great crises in the church have frequently produced new revivals of monasticism. from benedict to bernard, from bernard to francis and dominic, from the friars to the jesuits, there is an evolution in the adaptation of the monastic life to the needs of latin christianity. several new orders, [sidenote: new monastic orders] all with more or less in common, started in the first half of the sixteenth century. under leo x there assembled at rome a number of men united by the wish to renew their spiritual lives by religious exercises. from this oratory of divine love, as it was called, under the inspiration of gaetano di tiene and john peter caraffa, arose the order of theatines, [sidenote: ] a body of devoted priests, dressing not in a special garb but in ordinary priest's robes, who soon attained a prominent position in the catholic reformation. their especial task was to educate the clergy. the order of the capuchins [sidenote: c. ] was an offshoot of the franciscans. it restored the relaxed discipline of the early friars and its members went about teaching the poor. notwithstanding the blow to it when its third vicar bernardino ochino became a calvinist, it flourished and turned its energies especially against the heretics. of the other orders founded at this time, the barnabites ( ), the somascians ( ), the brothers of mercy ( ), the ursulines ( ), only the common characteristics can be pointed out. it is notable that they were all animated by a social ideal; not only the salvation of the individual soul but also the { } amelioration of humanity was now their purpose. some of the orders devoted themselves to the education of children, some to home missions or foreign missions, some to nursing the sick, some to the rescue of fallen women. the evolution of monasticism had already pointed the way to these tasks; its apogee was reached with the organization of the company of jesus. [sidenote: typical jesuit] the jesuit has become one of those typical figures, like the puritan and the buccaneer. though less exploited in fiction than he was in the days of dumas, eugene sue and zola, the mention of his name calls to the imagination the picture of a tall, spare man, handsome, courteous, obliging, but subtle, deceitful, dangerous, capable of nursing the blackest thoughts and of sanctioning the worst actions for the advancement of his cause. the _lettres provinciales_ of pascal first stamped on public opinion the idea that the jesuit was necessarily immoral and venomous; the implacable hatred of michelet and symonds has brought them as criminals before the bar of history. on the other hand they have had their apologists and friends even outside their own order. let us neither praise nor blame, but seek to understand them. [sidenote: loyola, c. - ] in that memorable hour when luther said his ever-lasting nay at worms one of his auditors was--or might have been for she was undoubtedly present in the city--germaine de foix, the wife of the margrave john of brandenburg. the beautiful and frivolous young woman had been by a former marriage the second wife of ferdinand the catholic and at his court she had been known and worshipped by a young page of good family, iñigo de loyola. like the romantic spaniard that he was he had taken, as he told later, for his lady "no duchess nor countess but one far higher" and to her he paid court in the genuine spirit of old chivalry. not that this prevented him from addressing { } less disinterested attentions to other ladies, for, if something of a don quixote he was also something of a don juan. indeed, at the carnival of , his "enormous misdemeanors" had caused him to be tried before a court of justice and little did his plea of benefit of clergy avail him, for the judge failed to find a tonsure on his head "even as large as a seal on a papal bull," and he was probably punished severely. loyola was a basque, and a soldier to his fingertips. when the french army invaded spain he was given command of the fortress of pampeluna. defending it bravely against desperate odds he was wounded [sidenote: may , ] in the leg with a cannon ball and forced to yield. the leg was badly set and the bone knit crooked. with indomitable courage he had it broken and reset, stretched on racks and the protruding bone sawed off, but all the torture, in the age before anaesthetics, was in vain. the young man of about twenty-eight--the exact year of his birth is unknown--found himself a cripple for life. to while away the long hours of convalescence he asked for the romances of chivalry but was unable to get them and read in their place legends of the saints and a life of christ by ludolph of saxony. his imagination took fire at the new possibilities of heroism and of fame. "what if you should be a saint like dominic or francis?" he asked himself, "ay, what if you should even surpass them in sanctity?" his choice was fixed. he took madonna for his lady and determined to become a soldier of christ. as soon as he was able to move he made a pilgrimage to seville and manresa and there dedicated his arms in a church in imitation of the knights he had read about in _amadis of gaul_. then, with a general confession and much fasting and mortification of the flesh, began a period of doubt and spiritual anguish { } that has sometimes been compared with that of luther. both were men of strong will and intellect, both suffered from the sense of sin. but luther's development was somewhat quieter and more normal--if, indeed, in the psychology of conversion so carefully studied by james, the quieter is the more normal. at any rate where luther had one vision on an exceptional occasion, loyola had hundreds and had them daily. ignatius saw the trinity as a clavichord with three strings, the miracle of transubstantiation as light in bread, satan as a glistening serpent covered with bright, mysterious eyes, jesus as "a big round form shining as gold," and the trinity again as "a ball of fire." but with all the visions he kept his will fixed on his purpose. [sidenote: ] at first this took the form of a vow to preach to the infidels and he made a pilgrimage to jerusalem, only to be turned back by the highest christian authority in that region, the politically-minded franciscan vicar. [sidenote: ] on returning to spain he went to barcelona and started to learn latin with boys, for his education as a gentleman had included nothing but reading and writing his own tongue. thence he went to the university of alcalá where he won disciples but was imprisoned for six weeks by the inquisition and forbidden to hold meetings with them. practically the same experience was repeated at salamanca where he was detained by the holy office for twenty-two days and again prohibited from holding religious meetings. thus he was chased out of spain by the church he sought to serve. turning his steps to paris he entered the college of montaigu, and, if he here was free from the inquisition he was publicly whipped by the college authorities as a dangerous fanatic. nevertheless, here he gathered his first permanent disciples, peter le fèvre of savoy, francis xavier of pampeluna and two castilians, { } james laynez and alfonso salmeron. the little man, hardly over five feet two inches high, deformed and scarred, at the age of thirty-five, won men to him by his smile, as of a conqueror in pain, by his enthusiasm, his mission and his book. [sidenote: _the spiritual exercises_] if one reckons the greatness of a piece of literature not by the beauty of the style or the profundity of the thought but by the influence it has exercised over men, the _spiritual exercises_ of ignatius will rank high. its chief sources were the meditation and observation of its author. if he took some things from garcia de cisneros, some from _the imitation of christ_, some from the rules of montaigu, where he studied, far more he took from the course of discipline to which he had subjected himself at manresa. the psychological soundness of loyola's method is found in his discovery that the best way to win a man to an ideal is to kindle his imagination. his own thought was imaginative to the verge of abnormality and the means which he took to awaken and artificially to stimulate this faculty in his followers were drastic in the extreme. the purpose of the _exercises_ is stated in the axiom that "man was created to praise, reverence and serve god our lord and thereby to save his soul." to fit a man for this work the spiritual exercises were divided into four periods called weeks, though each period might be shortened or lengthened at the discretion of the director. the first week was devoted to the consideration of sin; the second to that of christ's life as far as palm sunday; the third to his passion; and the fourth to his resurrection and ascension. knowing the tremendous power of the stimulant to be administered ignatius inserted wise counsels of moderation in the application of it. but, subject only to the condition that the novice was not to be plied beyond what he could bear, he was directed in the first week of { } solitary meditation to try to see the length, breadth and depth of hell, to hear the lamentations and blasphemies of the damned, to smell the smoke and brimstone, to taste the bitterness of tears and of the worm of conscience and to feel the burnings of the unquenchable fire. in like manner in the other weeks he was to try to picture to himself in as vivid a manner as possible all the events brought before his mind, whether terrible or glorious. the end of all this discipline was to be the complete subjection of the man to the church. the jesuit was directed ever "to praise all the precepts of the church, holding the mind ready to find reasons for her defence and nowise in her offence." there must be an unconditional surrender to her not only of the will but of the intelligence. "to make sure of being right in all things," says loyola, "we ought always to hold by the principle that the white i see i should believe to be black if the hierarchical church were so to rule it." inspired by this ideal the small body of students, agreeing to be called henceforth the company of jesus--a military term, the _socii_ being the companions or followers of a chief in arms--took vows to live in poverty and chastity [sidenote: august , ] and to make a pilgrimage to jerusalem. with this object they set out to venice and then turned towards rome for papal approbation of their enterprise. their first reception was chilling, but they gradually won a few new recruits and ignatius drafted the constitution [sidenote: september , ] for a new order which was handed to the pope by contarini and approved in the bull _regimini militantis ecclesiae_, which quotes from the formula of the jesuits: whoever wishes to fight for god under the standard of the cross and to serve the lord alone and his vicar on earth the roman pontiff shall, after a solemn vow of perpetual chastity, consider that he is part of a society instituted chiefly for these ends, for the profit of souls in { } life and christian doctrine, for the propagation of the faith through public preaching, the ministry of god's word, spiritual exercises and works of charity, and especially for the education of children and ignorant persons in christianity, for the hearing of confession and for the giving of spiritual consolation. moreover it is stated that the members of the new order should be bound by a vow of special obedience to the pope and should hold themselves ready at his behest to propagate the faith among turks, infidels, heretics or schismatics, or to minister to believers. [sidenote: april ] ignatius was chosen first general of the order. the pope then cancelled the previous limitation of the number of jesuits to [sidenote: ] and later issued a large charter of privileges for them. [sidenote: ] they were exempted from taxes and episcopal jurisdiction; no member was to be allowed to accept any dignity without the general's consent, nor could any member be assigned to the spiritual direction of women. among many other grants was one to the effect that the faithful might confess to them and receive communion without permission of their parish priests. a confirmation of all privileges and a grant of others was made in a bull of july , . [sidenote: organization of the society of jesus, ] the express end of the order being the world-domination of the church, its constitution provided a marvellously apt organization for this purpose. everything was to be subordinate to efficiency. detachment from the world went only so far as necessary for the completer conquest of the world. asceticism, fasting, self-discipline were to be moderate so as not to interfere with health. no special dress was prescribed, for it might be a hindrance rather than a help. the purpose being to win over the classes rather than the masses, the jesuits were particular to select as members only robust men of agreeable appearance, calm minds and { } eloquence. that an aspirant to the order should also be rich and of good family was not requisite but was considered desirable. men of bad reputation, intractible, choleric, or men who had ever been tainted with heresy, were excluded. no women were recruited. after selection, the neophyte was put on a probation of two years. he was then assigned to the class of scholars for further discipline. he was later placed either as a temporal coadjutor, a sort of lay brother charged with inferior duties, or as a spiritual coadjutor, who took the three irrevocable vows. finally, there was a class, to which admission was gained after long experience, the professed of four vows, the fourth being one of special obedience to the pope. a small number of secret jesuits who might be considered as another class, were charged with dangerous missions and with spying. [sidenote: general] over the order was placed a general who was practically, though not theoretically, absolute. on paper he was limited by the possibility of being deposed and by the election, independently of his influence, of an "admonitor" and some assistants. in practice the only limitations of his power were the physical ones inherent in the difficulties of administering provinces thousands of miles away. from every province, however, he received confidential reports from a multitude of spies. the spirit of the order was that of absolute, unquestioning, blind obedience. the member must obey his superior "like a corpse which can be turned this way or that, or a rod that follows every impulse, or a ball of wax that might be moulded in any form." the ideal was an old one; the famous _perinde ac cadaver_ itself dates back to francis of assisi, but nowhere had the ideal been so completely realized as by the companions of ignatius. in fact, in this as in other respects, the { } jesuits were but a natural culmination of the evolution of monasticism. more and more had the orders tended to become highly disciplined, unified bodies, apt to be used for the service of the church and of the pope. [sidenote: growth] the growth of the society was extraordinarily rapid. by they had nine establishments, two each in italy, spain and portugal and one each in france, germany and the netherlands. when loyola [sidenote: july , ] died jesuits could be found in japan and brazil, in abyssinia and on the congo; in europe they were in almost every country and included doctors at the largest universities and papal nuncios to poland and ireland. there were in all twelve provinces, about residences and members. their work was as broad as their field, but it was dedicated especially to three several tasks: education, war against the heretic, and foreign missions. neither of the first two was particularly contemplated by the founders of the order in their earliest period. at that time they were rather like the friars, popular preachers, catechists, confessors and charitable workers. but the exigencies of the time called them to supply other needs. the education of the young was the natural result of their desire to dominate the intellectual class. their seminaries, at first adapted only to their own uses, soon became famous. [sidenote: combating heresy] in the task of combating heresy they were also the most successful of the papal cohorts. though not the primary purpose of the order, it soon came to be regarded as their special field. the bull canonizing loyola [sidenote: ] speaks of him as an instrument raised up by divine providence especially to combat that "foulest of monsters" martin luther. beginning in italy the jesuits revived the nearly extinct popular piety. going among the poor as missionaries they found many who knew no prayers, many who had not confessed for { } thirty or forty years, and a host of priests as blind as their flocks. in most other catholic countries they had to fight for the right to exist. in france the parlement of paris was against them, and even after the king had granted them permission to settle in the country in , the parlement accused them of jeoparding the faith, destroying the peace of the church, supplanting the old orders and tearing down more than they built up. nevertheless they won their way to a place of great power, until, sitting at the counsels of the monarch, they were able to crush their catholic opponents, the jansenists, as completely as their protestant enemies were crushed by the revocation of the edict of nantes. in the netherlands the jesuits were welcomed as allies of the spanish power. the people were impressed by their zeal, piety, and disinterestedness, and in the southern provinces they were able to bear away a victory after a fierce fight with calvinism. in england, where they showed the most devotion, they met with the least success. the blood of their martyrs did not sow the ground with catholic seed, and they were expelled by statute under elizabeth. [sidenote: jesuit victories] the most striking victories of the jesuits were won in central europe. when the first of their company, peter faber, entered germany in , he found nearly the whole country lutheran. the wittelsbachs of bavaria were almost the only reigning family that never compromised with the reformers and in them the jesuits found their starting point and their most constant ally. called to the universities of ingolstadt and vienna their success was great and from these foci they radiated in all directions, to poland, to hungary, to the rhine. one of their most eminent missionaries was peter canisius, whose catechism, published in in three forms, short, long and middle, and in two { } languages, german and latin, became the chief spiritual text-book of the catholics. the idea and selection of material was borrowed from luther and he was imitated also in the omission of all overt polemic material. this last feature was, of course, one of the strongest. [sidenote: missions to heathens] but the conquests of the company of jesus were as notable in lands beyond europe as they were in the heart of civilization. they were not, indeed, pioneers in the field of foreign missions. the catholic church showed itself from an early period solicitous for the salvation of the natives of america and of the far east. the bull of alexander vi stated that his motive in dividing the newly discovered lands between spain and portugal was chiefly to assist in the propagation of the faith. that the protestants at first developed no activity in the conversion of the heathen was partly because their energies were fully employed in securing their own position, and still more, perhaps, because, in the sixteenth century, spain and portugal had a practical monopoly of the transoceanic trade and thus the only opportunities of coming into contact with the natives. very early dominican and franciscan friars went to america. though some of them exemplified christian virtues that might well have impressed the natives, the greater number relied on the puissant support of the toledo sword. though the natives, as heathen born in invincible ignorance, were exempt from the jurisdiction of the inquisitor, they were driven by terror if not by fire, into embracing the religion of their conquerors. if some steadfast chiefs told the missionaries that they would rather go to hell after death than live for ever with the cruel christians, the tribes as a whole, seeing their dreaded idols overthrown and their temples uprooted, embraced the religion of the stronger god, as they quailed before his { } votaries. little could they understand of the mysteries of the faith, and in some places long continued to worship christ and mary with the ritual and attributes of older deities. but nominally a million of them were converted by , and when the jesuits arrived a still more successful effort was made to win over the red man. the important mission in brazil, served by brave and devoted brothers of ignatius, achieved remarkable results, whereas in paraguay the jesuits founded a state completely under their own tutelage. in the far east the path of the missionary was broken by the trader. at goa the first ambassadors of christ were friars, and here they erected a cathedral, a convent, and schools for training native priests. but the greatest of the missionaries to this region was francis xavier, [sidenote: xavier, - ] the companion of loyola. not forgetting the vow which he, together with all the first members of the society, had taken, [sidenote: april ] he sailed from lisbon, clothed with extraordinary powers. the pope made him his vicar for all the lands bathed by the indian ocean, [sidenote: may, ] and the king of portugal gave him official sanction and support. arriving at goa he put himself in touch with the earlier missionaries and began an earnest fight against the immorality of the port, both christian and native. his motto "amplius" led him soon to virgin fields, among the natives of the coast and of ceylon. in he went to cochin-china, thence to the moluccas and to japan, preaching in every place and baptizing by the thousand and ten thousand. though xavier was a man of brilliant endowments and though he was passionately devoted to the cause, to neither of his good qualities did he owe the successes, whether solid or specious, with which he has been credited. in the first place, judged by the standards of modern missions, the superficiality of his work was { } almost inconceivable. he never mastered one of the languages of the countries which he visited. he learned by rote a few sentences, generally the creed and some phrases on the horrors of hell, and repeated them to the crowds attracted to him by the sound of a bell. he addressed himself to masses rather than to individuals and he regarded the culmination of his work as being merely the administration of baptism and not the conversion of heart or understanding. thus, he spent hours in baptizing, with all possible speed, sick and dying children, believing that he was thus rescuing their souls from limbo. probably many of his adult converts never understood the meaning of the application of water and oil, salt and spittle, that make up the ritual of catholic baptism. [sidenote: use of force] in the second place, what permanent success he achieved was due largely to the invocation of the aid of the civil power. one of the most illuminating of xavier's letters is that written to king john of portugal on january , , in which he not only makes the reasonable request that native christians be protected from persecution by their countrymen, but adds that every governor should take such measures to convert them as would insure success to his preaching, for without such support, he says, the cause of the gospel in the indies would be desperate, few would come to baptism and those who did come would not profit much in religion. therefore he urges that every governor, under whose rule many natives were not converted, should be mulcted of all his goods and imprisoned on his return to portugal. what the measures applied by the portugese officers must have been, under such pressure, can easily be inferred from a slight knowledge of their savage rule. it has been said that every organism carries in { } itself the seeds of its own decay. the premature corruption [sidenote: decay of jesuits] of the order was noticed by its more earnest members quite early in its career. the future general francis borgia wrote: [sidenote: ] "the time will come when the company will be completely absorbed in human sciences without any application to virtue; ambition, pride and arrogance will rule." the general aquaviva said explicitly, [sidenote: ] "love of the things of this world and the spirit of the courtier are dangerous diseases in our company. almost in spite of us the evil creeps in little by little under the fair pretext of gaining princes, prelates, and the great ones of the world." a principal cause of the ultimate odium in which the jesuits were held as well as of their temporary successes, was their desire for speedy results. [sidenote: efficiency] every one has noticed the immense versatility of the jesuits and their superficiality. they produced excellent scholars of a certain rank, men who could decipher latin inscriptions, observe the planets, publish libraries of historical sources, of casuistry and apologetic, or write catechisms or epigrams. they turned with equal facility to preaching to naked savages and to the production of art for the most cultivated peoples in the world. and yet they have rarely, if ever, produced a great scholar, a great scientist, a great thinker, or even a great ascetic. they were not founded for such purposes; they were founded to fight for the church and they did that with extraordinary success. [sidenote: failure] but their very efficiency became, as pursued for its own sake it must always become, soulless. in terms suggested by the great war, the jesuits were the incarnation of religious militarism. to set up an ideal of aggrandizement, to fill a body of men with a fanatical enthusiasm for that ideal and then to provide an organization and discipline marvellously adapted to conquest, that is what the prussian schoolmaster who { } proverbially won sadowa, and the jesuits who beat back the reformation, have known how to do better than anyone else. their methods took account of everything except the conscience of mankind. moreover, there can be no doubt that in their eager pursuit of tangible results they lowered the ethical standards of the church. wishing to open her doors as widely as possible to all men, and finding that they could not make all men saints, they brought down the requirements for admission to the average human level. one cannot take the denunciations of jesuitical "casuistry" and "probabilism" at their face value, but one can find in jesuit works on ethics, and in some of their early works, very dangerous compromises with the world. [sidenote: jesuitical compromises] one reads in their books how the bankrupt, without sinning mortally, may defraud his creditors of his mortaged goods; how the servant may be excused for pilfering from his master; how a rich man may pardonably deceive the tax-collector; how the adulteress may rightfully deny her sin to her husband, even on oath.[ ] doubtless these are extreme instances, but that they should have been possible at all is a melancholy warning to all who would, even for pious ends, substitute inferior imitations for genuine morality. [ ] substantiation of these statements in excerpts from jesuit works of moral theology, printed in c. mirbt: _quellen zur geschichte des papst-tums_[ ], , pp. ff. section . the inquisition and index not only by propaganda appealing to the mind and heart did the catholic church roll back the tides of reformation and renaissance, but by coercion also. in this the church was not alone; the protestants also persecuted and they also censored the press with the object of preventing their adherents from reading the arguments of their opponents. but the catholic { } church was not only more consistent in the application of her intolerant theories but she almost always assumed the direction of the coercive measures directly instead of applying them through the agency of the state. divided as they were, dependent on the support of the civil government and hampered, at least to some slight extent, by their more liberal tendencies, the protestants never had instrumentalities half as efficient or one-tenth as terrible as the inquisition and the index. the inquisition was a child of the middle ages. for centuries before luther the holy office had cauterized the heretical growths on the body of mother church. the old form was utilized but was given a new lease of life by the work it was called upon to perform against the protestants. outside of the netherlands the two forms of the inquisition which played the largest part in the battles of the sixteenth century were the spanish and the roman. [sidenote: spanish inquisition] the inquisition was licensed in spain by a bull of sixtus iv of , and actually established by ferdinand and isabella in castile in , and soon afterwards in their other dominions. it has sometimes been said that the spanish inquisition was really a political rather than an ecclesiastical instrument, but the latest historian of the subject, whose deep study makes his verdict final, has disposed of this theory. though occasionally called upon to interfere in political matters, this was exceptional. far more often it asserted an authority and an independence that embarrassed not a little the royal government. on the other hand it soon grew so great and powerful that it was able to ignore the commands of the popes. on account of its irresponsible power it was unpopular and was only tolerated because it was so efficient in crushing out the heresy that the people hated. { } [sidenote: procedure] the annals of its procedure and achievements are one long record of diabolical cruelty, of protracted confinement in dungeons, of endless delay and browbeating to break the spirit, of ingenious tortures and of racked and crushed limbs and of burning flesh. in mitigation of judgment, it must be remembered that the methods of the civil courts were also cruel at that time, and the punishments severe. as the guilt of the suspected person was always presumed, every effort was made to secure confession, for in matters of belief there is no other equally satisfactory proof. without being told the nature of his crime or who was the informant against him, the person on trial was simply urged to confess. an advocate was given him only to take advantage of his professional relations with his client by betraying him. the enormous, almost incredible procrastination by which the accused would be kept in prison awaiting trial sometimes for five or ten or even twenty years, usually sufficed to break his spirit or to unbalance his mind. torture was first threatened and then applied. all rules intended to limit its amount proved illusory, and it was applied practically to any extent deemed necessary, and to all classes; nobles and clergy were no less obnoxious to it than were commons. nor was there any privileged age, except that of the tenderest childhood. men and women of ninety and boys and girls of twelve or fourteen were racked, as were young mothers and women with child. insanity, however, if recognized as genuine, was considered a bar to torture. acquittal was almost, though not quite, unknown. sometimes sentence was suspended and the accused discharged without formal exoneration. very rarely acquittal by compurgation, that is by oath of the accused supported by the oaths of a number of persons that they believed he was telling the truth, was allowed. { } practically the only plea open to the suspect was that the informers against him were actuated by malice. as he was not told who his accusers were this was difficult for him to use. [sidenote: penalties] the penalties were various, including scourging, the galleys and perpetual imprisonment. capital punishment by fire was pronounced not only on those who were impenitent but on those who, after having been once discharged, had relapsed. in spain, heretics who recanted before execution were first strangled; the obstinately impenitent were burned alive. persons convicted of heresy who could not be reached were burnt in effigy. acting on the maxim _ecclesia non sitit sanguinem_ the inquisitors did not put their victims to death by their own officers but handed them over to the civil authorities for execution. with revolting hypocrisy they even adjured the hangmen to be merciful, well knowing that the latter had no option but to carry out the sentence of the church. magistrates who endeavored to exercise any discretion in favor of the condemned were promptly threatened with excommunication. if anything could be wanting to complete the horror it was supplied by the festive spirit of the executions. the _auto da fe_, [sidenote: _auto da fe_] or act of faith, was a favorite spectacle of the spaniards; no holiday was quite complete without its holocaust of human victims. the staging was elaborate, and the ceremony as impressive as possible. secular and spiritual authorities were ordered to be present and vast crowds were edified by the horrible example of the untimely end of the unbeliever. sundays and feast days were chosen for these spectacles and on gala occasions, such as royal weddings and christenings, a special effort was made to celebrate one of these holy butcheries. the number of victims has been variously estimated. { } an actual count up to the year , that is, before protestantism became a serious factor, shows that , were burned in person and , in effigy, and these figures are incomplete. it must be remembered that for every one who paid the extreme penalty there were a large number of others punished in other ways, or imprisoned and tortured while on trial. when adrian of utrecht, afterwards the pope, was inquisitor general - , , persons were burned alive, in effigy and , were sentenced to penance or other lighter punishments. roughly, for one person sentenced to death ten suffered milder penalties. [sidenote: crimes punished] heresy was not the only crime punished by the inquisition; it also took charge of blasphemy, bigamy and some forms of vice. in its early years it was chiefly directed against the jews who, having been forced to the baptismal font, had relapsed. later the moriscos or christened moors supplied the largest number of victims. as with the jews, race hatred was so deep an ingredient of the treatment meted out to them that the nominal cause was sometimes forgotten, and baptism often failed to save "the new christian" who preserved any, even the most innocent, of the national customs. many a man and woman was tortured for not eating pork or for bathing in the moorish fashion. as protestantism never obtained any hold in spain, the inquisition had comparatively little trouble on that account. during the sixteenth century a total number of persons were punished as protestants of whom were foreigners and only were spaniards. even these figures exaggerate the hold that the reformation had in spain, for any error remotely resembling the tenets of wittenberg immediately classed its maintainer as lutheran. the first case known was found in majorca in , but it was not until { } that any considerable number suffered for this faith. in that year lutherans were burnt at rodrigo and seville, in , and calvinists in . the dread of the spanish inquisition was such that only in those dependencies early and completely subdued could it be introduced. established in sicily in its temporal jurisdiction was suspended during the years - , when it was revived by the fear of protestantism. even during its dark quarter, however, it was able to punish heretics. in an _auto_ celebrated at palermo, [sidenote: may , ] of the twenty-two culprits three were lutherans and nineteen jews. the capitulation of naples in expressly excluded the spanish inquisition, nor could it be established in milan. the portuguese inquisition was set up in . [sidenote: new world] the new world was capable of offering less resistance. nevertheless, for many years the inquisitorial powers were vested in the bishops sent over to mexico and peru, and when the inquisition was established in both countries in it probably meant no increase of severity. the natives were exempt from its jurisdiction and it found little combustible material save in captured protestant europeans. a fleming was burned at lima in , and at the first _auto_ held at mexico in thirty-six lutherans were punished, all english captives, two by burning and the rest by scourging or the galleys. [sidenote: roman inquisition] the same need of repelling protestantism that had helped to give a new lease of life to the spanish inquisition called into being her sister the roman inquisition. by the bull _licet ab initio_, [sidenote: july , ] paul iv reconstituted the holy office at rome, directing and empowering it to smite all who persisted in condemned opinions lest others should be seduced by their example, not only in the papal states but in all the nations of christendom. it was authorized to pronounce { } sentence on culprits and to invoke the aid of the secular arm to punish them with prison, confiscation of goods and death. its authority was directed particularly against persons of high estate, even against heretical princes whose subjects were loosed from their obligation of obedience and whose neighbors were invited to take away their heritage. [sidenote: procedure] the procedure of the holy office at rome was characterized by the augustinian cardinal seripando as at first lenient, but later, he continues, "when the superhuman rigor of caraffa [one of the first inquisitors general] held sway, the inquisition acquired such a reputation that from no other judgment-seat on earth were more horrible and fearful sentences to be expected." besides the attention it paid to protestants it instituted very severe processes against judaizing christians and took cognizance also of seduction, of pimping, of sodomy, and of infringment of the ecclesiastical rules for fasting. [sidenote: italy] the roman inquisition was introduced into milan by michael ghislieri, afterwards pope, and flourished mightily under the protecting care of borromeo, cardinal archbishop of the city. it was established by charles v, notwithstanding opposition, in naples. [sidenote: ] venice also fought against its introduction but nevertheless finally permitted it. [sidenote: ] during the sixteenth century in that city there were no less than processes for lutheranism, for calvinism, against anabaptists, for judaism and for sorcery. in countries outside of italy the roman inquisition did not take root. bishop magrath endeavored in to give ireland the benefit of the institution, but naturally the english government allowed no such thing. [sidenote: censorship of the press] a method of suppressing given opinions and propagating others probably far more effective than the { } mauling of men's bodies is the guidance of their minds through direction of their reading and instruction. naturally, before the invention of printing, and in an illiterate society, the censorship of books would have slight importance. plato was perhaps the first to propose that the reading of immoral and impious books be forbidden, but i am not aware that his suggestion was acted upon either in the states of greece or in pagan rome. examples of the rejection of certain books by the early church are not wanting. paul induced the ephesian sorcerers to burn their books; certain fathers of the church advised against the reading of heathen authors; [sidenote: c. ] pope gelasius made a decree on the books received and those not received by the church, and manichaean books were publicly burnt. [sidenote: fourth century] the invention of printing brought to the attention of the church the danger of allowing her children to choose their own reading matter. [sidenote: printing] the first to animadvert upon it was berthold, archbishop of mayence, the city of gutenberg. on the d of march, , he promulgated a decree to the effect that, whereas the divine art of printing had been abused for the sake of lucre and whereas by this means even christ's books, missals and other works on religion, were thumbed by the vulgar, and whereas the german idiom was too poor to express such mysteries, and common persons too ignorant to understand them, therefore every work translated into german must be approved by the doctors of the university of mayence before being published. [sidenote: june , ] the example of the prelate was soon followed by popes and councils. alexander vi forbade as a detestable evil the printing of books injurious to the catholic faith, and made all archbishops official censors for their dioceses. this was enforced by a decree of the fifth lateran council setting forth that { } although printing has brought much advantage to the church [sidenote: may , ] it has also disseminated errors and pernicious dogmas contrary to the christian religion. the decree forbids the printing of any book in any city or diocese of christendom without license from the local bishop or other ecclesiastical authority. this sweeping edict was supplemented by others directed against certain books or authors, but for a whole generation the church left the censorship chiefly to the discretion of the several national governments. this was the policy followed also by the protestants, both at this time and later. [sidenote: protestant censorship] neither luther, nor any other reformer for a long time attempted to draw up regular indices of prohibited books. examples of something approaching this may be found in the later history of protestantism, but they are so unimportant as to be negligible. [sidenote: national censorship, ] the national governments, however, laid great stress on licensing. the first law in spain was followed by an ever increasing strictness under the inquisitor who drew up several indices of prohibited books, completely independent of the official roman lists. the german diets and the french kings were careful to give their subjects the benefit of their selection of reading matter. in england, too, lists of prohibited books were drawn up under all the tudors. mary restricted the right to print to licensed members of the stationers' company; elizabeth put the matter in the hands of star chamber. [sidenote: ] a special license was required by the injunctions, and a later law was aimed at "seditious, schismatic or libellous books and other fantastic writings." [sidenote: ] [sidenote: catalogues of dangerous books] the idea of a complete catalogue of heretical and dangerous writings under ecclesiastical censure took its rise in the netherlands. after the works of various authors had been severally prohibited in distinct { } proclamations, the university of louvain, at the emperor's command, drew up a fairly extensive list in and again, somewhat enlarged, in . it mentions a number of bibles in greek, latin and the vernaculars, the works of luther, carlstadt, osiander, ochino, bullinger, calvin, oecolampadius, jonas, calvin, melanchthon, zwingli, huss and john pupper of goch, a dutch author of the fifteenth century revived by the protestants. it is remarkable that the works of erasmus are not included in this list. furthermore it is stated that certain approved works, even when edited or translated by heretics, might be allowed to students. among the various scientific works condemned are an _anatomy_ printed at marburg by eucharius harzhorn, h. c. agrippa's _de vanitate scientiarum_, and sebastian münster's _cosmographia universalis_, a geography printed in . the koran is prohibited, and also a work called "het paradijs van venus," this latter presumably as indecent. finally, all books printed since without name of author, printer, time, and place, are prohibited. [sidenote: roman index] partly in imitation of this work of louvain, partly in consequence of the foundation of the inquisition, the roman index of prohibited books was promulgated. though the bull founding the roman inquisition said nothing about books, their censure was included in practice. under the influence of the holy office at lucca a list of forbidden works was drawn up by the senate at lucca, [sidenote: ] including chiefly the tracts of italian heretics and satires on the church. the fourth session council of trent [sidenote: april , ] prohibited the printing of all anonymous books whatever and of all others on religion until licensed. a further indication of increasing severity may be found in a bull issued by julius iii [sidenote: ] who complained that authors licensed to read heretical { } books for the purpose of refuting them were more likely to be seduced by them, and who therefore revoked all licenses given up to that time. [sidenote: september, ] when the roman inquisition issued a long list of volumes to be burnt publicly, including works of erasmus, machiavelli and poggio, this might be considered the first roman index of prohibited books; but the first document to bear that name was issued by paul iv. [sidenote: ] it divided writings into three classes: ( ) authors who had erred _ex professo_ and whose whole works were forbidden; ( ) authors who had erred occasionally and some of whose books only were mentioned; ( ) anonymous books. in addition to these classes printers were named, all works published by whom were banned. the index strove to be as complete as possible. its chief though not its only source was the catalogue of louvain. many editions and versions of the bible were listed and the printing of any translation without permission of the inquisition was prohibited. particular attention was paid to erasmus, who was not only put in the first class by name but was signalized as having "all his commentaries, notes, annotations, dialogues, epistles, refutations, translations, books and writings" forbidden. [sidenote: tridentine censorship, february , ] the council of trent again took up the matter, passing a decree to the effect that inasmuch as heresy had not been cured by the censorship this should be made much stricter, and appointing a commission in order, as, regardless of the parable,[ ] it was phrased, to separate the tares from the wheat. the persons appointed for this delicate work comprised four archbishops, nine bishops, two generals of orders and some "minor theologians." after much sweat they brought forth a report on most of the doubtful authors though { } the most difficult of all, erasmus, they relinquished to the theological faculties of louvain and paris for expurgation. [sidenote: ] the results of their labors were published by paul iv under the name of the tridentine index. it was more sweeping, and at the same time more discriminating than the former index. erasmus was changed to the second class, only a portion of his works being now condemned. among the non-ecclesiastical authors banned were machiavelli, guicciardini and boccaccio. it is noteworthy that the _decameron_ was expurgated not chiefly for its indecency but for its satire of ecclesiastics. thus, a tale of the seduction of an abbess is rendered acceptable by changing the abbess into a countess; the story of how a priest led a woman astray by impersonating the angel gabriel is merely changed by making the priest a layman masquerading as a fairy king. the principles upon which the prohibition of books rested were set forth in ten rules. the most interesting are the following: ( ) books printed before condemned by popes or council; ( ) versions of the bible; ( ) books of heretics; ( ) obscene books; ( ) works on witchcraft and necromancy. in order to keep the index up to date continual revision was necessary. to insure this pius v appointed a special congregation of the index, which has lasted until the present day. from his time to ours more than forty indices have been issued. those of the sixteenth century were concerned mainly with protestant books, those of later centuries chiefly deal, for the purposes of internal discipline, with books written by catholics. one of the functions of the congregation was to expurgate books, taking out the offensive passages. a separate _index expurgatorius_, pointing out the passages to be deleted or corrected was { } published, and this name has sometimes incorrectly been applied to the index of prohibited books. [sidenote: effect of the censorship] the effect of the censorship of the press has been variously estimated. the index was early dubbed _sica destricta in omnes scriptores_ and sarpi called it "the finest secret ever discovered for applying religion to the purpose of making men idiotic." milton thundered against the censorship in england as "the greatest discouragement and affront that can be offered to learning and learned men." the evil of the system of rome was, in his opinion, double, for, as he wrote in his immortal _areopagitica_, "the council of trent and the spanish inquisition engendering together brought forth and perfected those catalogues and expurging indexes that rake through the entrails of many an old good author with a violation worse than any that could be offered to his tomb." when we remember that the greatest works of literature, such as the _divine comedy_, were tampered with, and that, in the spanish expurgatorial index of the list of passages to be deleted or to be altered in erasmus's works takes double-columned, closely printed folio pages, we can easily see the point of milton's indignant protest. but, to his mind, it was still worse to subject a book to the examination of unfit men before it could secure its _imprimatur_. not without reason has liberty of the press been made one of the cornerstones of the temple of freedom. various writers have labored to demonstrate the blighting effect that the censorship was supposed to have on literature. but it is surprising how few examples they can bring. lea, who ought to know the spanish field exhaustively, can only point to a few professors of theology who were persecuted and silenced for expressing unconventional views on biblical criticism. he conjectures that others must have { } remained mute through fear. but, as the golden age of spanish literature came after the law made the printing of unlicensed books punishable by death, [sidenote: ] it is hard to see wherein literature can have suffered. the roman inquisition did not prevent the appearance of galileo's work, though it made him recant afterwards. the strict english law that playwrights should not "meddle with matters of divinity or state" made shakespeare careful not to express his religious and political views, but it is hard to see in what way it hampered his genius. and yet the influence of the various press laws was incalculably great and was just what it was intended to be. it affected science less than one would think, and literature hardly at all, but it moulded the opinions of the masses like putty in their rulers' hands. that the rank and file of spaniards and italians remained catholic, and the vast majority of britons protestant, was due more to the bondage of the press than to any other one cause. originality was discouraged, the people to some degree unfitted for the free debate that is at the bottom of self-government, the hope of tolerance blighted, and the path opened that led to religious wars. [ ] matthew xiii, - . { } chapter ix the iberian peninsula and the expansion of europe section . spain [sidenote: reformation, renaissance and exploration] if, through the prism of history, we analyse the white light of sixteenth-century civilization into its component parts, three colors particularly emerge: the azure "light of the gospel" as the reformers fondly called it in germany, the golden beam of the renaissance in italy, and the blood-red flame of exploration and conquest irradiating the iberian peninsula. which of the three contributed most to modern culture it is hard to decide. each of the movements started separately, gradually spreading until it came into contact, and thus into competition and final blending with the other movements. it was the middle lands, france, england and the netherlands that, feeling the impulses from all sides, evolved the sanest and strongest synthesis. while germany almost committed suicide with the sword of the spirit, while italy sank into a voluptuous torpor of decadent art, while spain reeled under the load of unearned western wealth, france, england and holland, taking a little from each of their neighbors, and not too much from any, became strong, well-balanced, brilliant states. but if eventually germany, italy and spain all suffered from over-specialization, for the moment the stimulus of new ideas and new possibilities gave to each a sort of leadership in its own sphere. while germany and italy were busy winning the realms of the spirit and of the mind, spain very nearly conquered the empire of the land and of the sea. { } [sidenote: ferdinand, - and isabella, - ] the foundation of her national greatness, like that of the greatness of so many other powers, was laid in the union of the various states into which she was at one time divided. the marriage of ferdinand of aragon and isabella of castile was followed by a series of measures that put spain into the leading position in europe, expelled the alien racial and religious elements of her population, and secured to her a vast colonial empire. the conquest of granada from the moors, the acquisition of cerdagne and roussillon from the french, and the annexation of naples, doubled the dominions of the lions and castles, and started the proud land on the road to empire. it is true that eventually spain exhausted herself by trying to do more than even her young powers could accomplish, but for a while she retained the hegemony of christendom. the same year that saw the discovery of america [sidenote: ] and the occupation of the alhambra, was also marked by the expulsion or forced conversion of the jews, of whom , left the kingdom, , were baptized, and , perished in race riots. the statesmanship of ferdinand showed itself in a more favorable light in the measures taken to reduce the nobles, feudal anarchs as they were, to fear of the law. to take their place in the government of the country he developed a new bureaucracy, which also, to some extent, usurped the powers of the cortes of aragon and of the cortes of castile. [sidenote: francis ximénez de cisneros, - ] in the meantime a notable reform of the church, in morals and in learning if not in doctrine, was carried through by the great cardinal ximénez. [sidenote: charles v, - ] when charles, the grandson of the catholic kings, succeeded ferdinand he was already, through his father, the archduke philip, the lord of burgundy and of the netherlands, and the heir of austria. his election as emperor made him, at the age of nineteen, the { } greatest prince of christendom. to his gigantic task he brought all the redeeming qualities of dullness, for his mediocrity and moderation served his peoples and his dynasty better than brilliant gifts and boundless ambition would have done. "never," he is reported to have said in , "did i aspire to universal monarchy, although it seemed well within my power to attain it." though the long war with france turned ever, until the very last, in his favor, he never pressed his advantage to the point of crushing his enemy to earth. but in germany and italy, no less than in spain and the netherlands, he finally attained something more than hegemony and something less than absolute power. [sidenote: revolt of the communes] though spain benefited by his world power and became the capital state of his far flung empire, "charles of ghent," as he was called, did not at first find spaniards docile subjects. within a very few years of his accession a great revolt, or rather two great synchronous revolts, one in castile and one in aragon, flared up. the grievances in castile were partly economic, the _servicio_ (a tax) and the removal of money from the realm, and partly national as against a strange king and his foreign officers. not only the regent, adrian of utrecht, but many important officials were northerners, and when charles left spain to be crowned emperor, [sidenote: ] the national pride could no longer bear the humiliation of playing a subordinate part. the revolt of the castilian communes began with the gentry and spread from them to the lower classes. even the grandees joined forces with the rebels, though more from fear than from sympathy. the various revolting communes formed a central council, the santa junta, and put forth a program re-asserting the rights of the cortes to redress grievances. meeting for a time with no resistance, the rebellion disintegrated { } through the operation of its own centrifugal forces, disunion and lack of leadership. so at length when the government, supplied with a small force of german mercenaries, struck on the field of villalar, the rebels suffered a severe defeat. [sidenote: april, ] a few cities held out longer, toledo last of all; but one by one they yielded, partly to force, partly to the wise policy of concession and redress followed by the government. in our own time barcelona and the east coast of spain has been the hotbed of revolutionary democracy and radical socialism. even so, the rising in aragon known as the hermandad (brotherhood) [sidenote: the hermandad] contemporary with that in castile, not only began earlier and lasted longer, but was of a far more radical stamp. here were no nobles airing their slights at the hands of a foreign king, but here the trade-gilds rose in the name of equality against monarch and nobles alike. two special causes fanned the fury of the populace to a white heat. the first was the decline of the mediterranean trade due to the rise of the atlantic commerce; the other was the racial element. valencia was largely inhabited by moors, the most industrious, sober and thrifty, and consequently the most profitable of spanish laborers. the race hatred so deeply rooted in human nature added to the ferocity of the class conflict. both sides were ruined by the war which, beginning in , dragged along for several years until the proletariat was completely crushed. [the cortes] the armed triumph of the government hardly damaged popular liberties as embodied in the constitution of the cortes of castile. when charles became king this body was not, like other parliaments, ordinarily a representative assembly of the three estates, but consisted merely of deputies of eighteen castilian cities. only on special occasions, such as a coronation, were nobles and clergy summoned to participate. its great { } power was that of granting taxes, though somehow it never succeeded, as did the english house of commons, in making the redress of grievances conditional upon a subsidy. but yet the power amounted to something and it was one that neither charles nor philip commonly ventured to violate. under both of them meetings of the cortes were frequent. though never directly attacked, the powers of the cortes declined through the growth of vast interests outside their competence. the direction of foreign policy, so absorbing under charles, and the charge of the enormous and growing commercial interests, was confided not to the representatives of the people, but to the royal council of castile, an appointative body of nine lawyers, three nobles, and one bishop. though not absolutely, yet relatively, the functions of the cortes diminished until they amounted to no more than those of a provincial council. what reconciled the people to the concentration of new powers in the hands of an irresponsible council was the apparently dazzling success of spanish policy throughout the greater part of the sixteenth century. no banner was served like that of the lions and castles; no troops in the world could stand against her famous regiments; no generals were equal to cortez and alva; no statesmen abler than parma, no admirals, until the armada, more daring than magellan[ ] and don john, no champions of the church against heretic and infidel like loyola and xavier. [sidenote: the spanish empire] that such an empire as the world had not seen since rome should within a single life-time rise to its zenith and, within a much shorter time, decline to the verge of ruin, is one of the melodramas of history. perhaps, in reality, spain was never quite so great as she looked, nor was her fall quite so complete as it seemed. but { } the phenomena, such as they are, sufficiently call for explanation. first of all one is struck by the fortuitous, one might almost say, unnatural, character of the hapsburg empire. while the union of castile and aragon, bringing together neighboring peoples and filling a political need, was the source of real strength, the subsequent accretions of italian and burgundian territories rather detracted from than added to the effective power of the spanish state. philip would have been far stronger had his father separated from his crown not only austria and the holy roman empire of germany, but the netherlands as well. the revolt of the dutch republic was in itself almost enough to ruin spain. nor can it be said that the italian states, won by the sword of ferdinand or of charles, were valuable accessions to spanish power. [sidenote: colonies] quite different in its nature was the colonial empire, but in this it resembled the other windfalls to the house of hapsburg in that it was an almost accidental, unsought-for acquisition. the genoese sailor who went to the various courts of europe begging for a few ships in which to break the watery path to asia, had in his beggar's wallet all the kingdoms of a new world and the glory of them. for a few years spain drank until she was drunken of conquest and the gold of america. that the draught acted momentarily as a stimulant, clearing her brain and nerving her arm to deeds of valor, but that she suffered in the end from the riotous debauch, cannot be doubted. she soon learned that all that glittered was not wealth, and that industries surfeited with metal and starved of raw materials must perish. the unearned coin proved to be fairy gold in her coffers, turning to brown leaves and dust when she wanted to use it. it became a drug in her markets; it could not lawfully be exported, and no { } amount of it would purchase much honest labor from an indolent population fed on fantasies of wealth. the modern king midas, on whose dominions the sun never set, was cursed with a singular and to him inexplicable need of everything that money was supposed to buy. his armies mutinied, his ships rotted, and never could his increasing income catch up with the far more rapidly increasing expenses of his budget. the poverty of the people was in large part the fault of the government which pursued a fiscal policy ideally calculated to strike at the very sources of wealth. while, under the oppression of an ignorant paternalism, unhappy spain suffered from inanition, she was tended by a physician who tried to cure her malady by phlebotomy. there have been worse men than philip ii, [sidenote: philip ii, - ] but there have been hardly any who have caused more blood to flow from the veins of their own people. his life is proof that a well-meaning bigot can do more harm than the most abandoned debauchee. "i would rather lose all my kingdoms," he averred, "than allow freedom of religion." and again, to a man condemned by the inquisition for heresy, "if my own son were as perverse as you, i myself would carry the faggot to burn him." consistently, laboriously, undeterred by any suffering or any horror, he pursued his aim. he was not afraid of hard work, scribbling reams of minute directions daily to his officers. his stubborn calm was imperturbable; he took his pleasures--women, _autos-da-fe_ and victories--sadly, and he suffered such chagrins as the death of four wives, having a monstrosity for a son, and the loss of the armada and of the netherlands, without turning a hair. spain's foreign policy came to be more and more polarized by the rise of english sea-power. even under charles, when france had been the chief enemy, { } [sidenote: spain vs. england] the hapsburgs saw the desirability of winning england as a strategic point for their universal empire. this policy was pursued by alternating alliance with hostility. for six years of his boyhood charles had been betrothed to mary tudor, henry viii's sister, to whom he sent a ring inscribed, "mary hath chosen the better part which shall not be taken away from her." his own precious person, however, was taken from her to be bestowed on isabella of portugal, by whom he begot philip. when this son succeeded him, notwithstanding the little unpleasantness of henry viii's divorce, he advised him to turn again to an english marriage, and philip soon became the husband of queen mary. after her death without issue, he vainly wooed her sister, until he was gradually forced by her protestant buccaneers into an undesired war. notwithstanding all that he could do to lose fortune's favors, she continued for many years to smile on her darling hapsburg. after a naval disaster inflicted by the turks on the spaniard off the coast of tripoli, the defeated power recovered and revenged herself in the great naval victory of lepanto, in october . the lustre added to the lions and castles by this important success was far outshone by the acquisition of portugal and all her colonies, in . though not the nearest heir, philip was the strongest, and by bribery and menaces won the homage of the portuguese nobles after the death of the aged king henry on january , . for sixty years spain held the lesser country and, what was more important to her, the colonies in the east indies and in africa. so vast an empire had not yet been heard of, or imagined possible, in the history of the world. no wonder that its shimmer dazzled the eyes not only of contemporaries, but of posterity. according to macaulay, { } philip's power was equal to that of napoleon, and its ruin is the most instructive lesson in history of how not to govern. how hollow was this semblance of might was demonstrated by the first stalwart peoples that dared to test it, first by the dutch and then by england. the story of the armada has already been told. its preparation marked the height of philip's effort and the height of his incompetence. its annihilation was a cruel blow to his pride. but in spain, barring a temporary financial panic, things went much the same after as before it. the full bloom of spanish culture, gorgeous with velasquez and fragrant with cervantes and calderon, followed hard upon the defeat of the armada. [sidenote: war with the moors] the fact is that spain suffered much more from internal disorders than from foreign levy. the chief occasion of her troubles was the presence among her people of a large body of moors, hated both for their race and for their religion. with the capitulation of granada, the enjoyment of mohammedanism was guaranteed to the moors, but this tolerance only lasted for six years, when a decree went out that all must be baptized or must emigrate from andalusia. in aragon, however, always independent of castile, they continued to enjoy religious freedom. charles at his coronation took a solemn oath to respect the faith of islam in these lands, but soon afterwards, frightened by the rise of heresy in germany, he applied to clement to absolve him from his oath. this sanction of bad faith, at first creditably withheld, [sidenote: ] was finally granted and was promptly followed by a general order for expulsion or conversion. throughout the whole of spain the poor moriscos now began to be systematically pillaged and persecuted by whoever chose to do it. all manner of taxes, tithes, servitudes and fines { } were demanded of them. the last straw that broke the endurance of a people tried by every manner of tyranny and extortion, was an edict ordering all moors to learn castilian within three years, after which the use of arabic was to be forbidden, prohibiting all moorish customs and costumes, and strictly enjoining attendance at church. as the moors had been previously disarmed and as they had no military discipline, rebellion seemed a counsel of despair, but it ensued. the populace rose in helpless fury, and for three years defied the might of the spanish empire. but the result could not be doubtful. a naked peasantry could not withstand the disciplined battalions that had proved their valor on every field from mexico to the levant and from saxony to algiers. it was not a war but a massacre and pillage. the whole of andalusia, the most flourishing province in spain, beautiful with its snowy mountains, fertile with its tilled valleys, and sweet with the peaceful toil of human habitation, was swept by a universal storm of carnage and of flame. the young men either perished in fighting against fearful odds, or were slaughtered after yielding as prisoners. those who sought to fly to africa found the avenues of escape blocked by the pitiless toledo blades. the aged were hunted down like wild beasts; the women and young children were sold into slavery, to toil under the lash or to share the hated bed of the conqueror. the massacre cost spain , lives and three million ducats, not to speak of the harm that it did to her spirit. [ ] a portuguese in spanish service. section . exploration [sidenote: division of the new world between spain and portugal] when columbus returned with glowing accounts of the "india" he had found, the value of his work was at once appreciated. forthwith began that struggle for colonial power which has absorbed so much of the { } energies of the european nations. in view of the portuguese discoveries in africa, it was felt necessary to mark out the "spheres of influence" of the two powers at once, and, with an instinctive appeal to the one authority claiming to be international, the spanish government immediately applied to pope alexander vi for confirmation in the new-found territories. acting on the suggestion of columbus that the line of spanish influence be drawn one hundred leagues west of any of the cape verde islands or of the azores, the pope, with magnificent self-assurance, issued a bull, _inter caetera divinae_, [sidenote: may , ] of his own mere liberality and in virtue of the authority of peter, conferring on castile forever "all dominions, camps, posts, and villages, with all the rights and jurisdictions pertaining to them," west of the parallel, and leaving to portugal all that fell to the east of it. portugal promptly protested that the line was too far east, and by the treaty of tordesillas; [sidenote: ] it was moved to leagues west of the cape verde islands, thus falling between the th and th parallel of longitude. the intention was doubtless to confer on spain all land immediately west of the atlantic, but, as a matter of fact, south america thrusts so far to the eastward, that a portion of her territory, later claimed as brazil, fell to the lot of portugal. [sidenote: spanish adventurers] spain lost no time in exploiting her new dominions, during the next century hundreds of ships carried tens thousands of adventurers to seek their fortune in the west. for it was not as colonists that most of them went, but in a spirit compounded of that of the crusader, the knight-errant, and the pirate. if there is anything in the paradox that artists have created natural beauty, it is a truer one to say that the spanish romances created the spanish colonial empire. the men who sailed on the great adventure had feasted { } on tales of paladins and hippogrifs, of enchanted palaces and fountains of youth, and miraculously fair women to be rescued and then claimed by knights. they read in books of travel purporting to tell the sober truth of satyrs and of purple unicorns and of men who spread their feet over their heads for umbrellas and of others whose heads grew between their shoulders. no wonder that when they went to a strange country they found the river of life in the orinoco, colonies of amazons in the jungle, and el dorado, the land of gold, in the riches of mexico and peru! it is a testimony to the imaginative mood of europe, as well as to the power of the pen, that the whole continent came to be called, not after its discoverer, but after the man who wrote the best romances--mostly fictions--about his travels in it. [sidenote: exploitation of natives] in the greater antilles, where spain made her first colonies, her rule showed at its worst. the soft native race, the caribs, almost completely disappeared within half a century. the best modern authority estimates that whereas the native population of española (haiti) was between , and , in , by hardly indians were left. in part the extinction of the natives was due to new diseases and to the vices of civilization, but far more to the heartless exploitation of them by the conquerors. bartholomew de las casas, the first priest to come to this unfortunate island, tells stories of spanish cruelty that would be incredible were they not so well supported. with his own eyes he saw inoffensive indians slaughtered at a single time; of another batch of he observed that within a few months more than half perished at hard labor. again, he saw indian children condemned to work in the mines, of whom few or none long survived. in vain a bull of paul iii declared the indians capable of becoming { } christians and forbade their enslavement. in vain the spanish government tried to mitigate at least some of the hardships of the natives' lot, [sidenote: ] ordering that they should be well fed and paid. the temptation to exploit them was too strong; and when they perished the spaniards supplied their place by importing negroes from africa, a people of tougher fibre. spanish exploration, followed by sparse settlement, soon opened up the greater part of the americas south of the latitude of the present city of san francisco. of many expeditions into the trackless wilderness, only a few were financially repaying; the majority were a drain on the resources of the mother country. in every place where the spaniard set foot the native quailed and, after at most one desperate struggle, went down, never again to loose the conqueror's grip from his throat or to move the conqueror's knee from his chest. even the bravest were as helpless as children before warriors armed with thunder and riding upon unknown monsters. but in no place, save in the islands, did the native races wholly disappear as they did in the english settlements. the spaniards came not like the puritans, as artisans and tillers of the soil intent on founding new homes, but as military conquerors, requiring a race of helots to toil for them. for a period anarchy reigned; the captains not only plundered the indians but fought one another fiercely for more room--more room in the endless wilderness! eventually, however, conditions became more stable; spain imposed her effective control, her language, religion and institutions on a vast region, doing for south america what rome had once done for her. the lover of adventure will find rich reward in tracing the discovery of the mississippi by de soto, of florida by ponce de leon, and of the whole course of { } the amazon by orellana who sailed down it from peru, or in reading of balboa, "when with eagle eyes he stared at the pacific." a resolute man could hardly set out exploring without stumbling upon some mighty river, some vast continent, or some unmeasured ocean. but among all these fairly-tales [transcriber's note: fairy-tales?] there are some that are so marvellous that they would be thought too extravagant by the most daring writers of romance. that one captain with four hundred men, and another with two hundred, should each march against an extensive and populous empire, cut down their armies at odds of a hundred to one, put their kings to the sword and their temples to the torch, and after it all reap a harvest of gold and precious stones such as for quantity had never been heard of before--all this meets us not in the tales of ariosto or of dumas, but in the pages of authentic history. [conquest of mexico] in the tableland of mexico dwelt the aztecs, the most civilized and warlike of north american aborigines. their polity was that of a spartan military despotism, their religion the most grewsome known to man. before their temples were piled pyramids of human skulls; the deities were placated by human sacrifice, and at times, according to the deicidal and theophagous rites common to many primitive superstitions, themselves sacrificed in effigy or in the person of a beautiful captive and their flesh eaten in sacramental cannibalism. though the civilization of the aztecs, derived from the earlier and perhaps more advanced mayans, was scarcely so high as that of the ancient egyptians, they had cultivated the arts sufficiently to work the mines of gold and silver and to hammer the precious metals into elaborate and massive ornaments. when rumors of their wealth reached cuba it seemed at last as if the dream of el dorado had come true. hernando cortez, a cultured, resolute, brave and { } politic leader, gathered a force of four hundred white men, with a small outfit of artillery and cavalry, and, on good friday, , landed at the place now called vera cruz and marched on the capital. the race of warriors who delighted in nothing but slaughter, was stupefied, partly by an old prophecy of the coming of a god to subdue the land, partly by the strange and terrible arms of the invaders. moreover their neighbors and subjects were ready to rise against them and become allies of the spaniards. in a few months of crowded battle and massacre they lay broken and helpless at the feet of the audacious conqueror, who promptly sent to spain a glowing account of his new empire and a tribute of gold and silver. albert dürer in august, , saw at brussels the "things brought the king from the new golden land," and describes them in his diary as including "a whole golden sun, a fathom in breadth, and a whole silver moon of the same size, and two rooms full of the same sort of armour, and also all kinds of weapons, accoutrements and bows, wonderful shields . . . altogether valued at a hundred thousand guidon. and all my life," he adds, "i have never seen anything that so rejoiced my heart as did these things." [conquest of peru] if an artist, familiar with kings and courts and the greatest marts of europe could write thus, what wonder that the imagination of the world took fire? the golden sun and the silver moon were, to all men who saw them, like helen's breasts, the sun and moon of heart's desire, to lure them over the western waves. twelve years after cortez, came pizarro who, with a still smaller force conquered an even wealthier and more civilized empire. the incas, unlike the mexicans, were a mild race, living in a sort of theocratic socialism, in which the emperor, as god, exercised absolute power over his subjects and in return cared { } for at least their common wants. the spaniards outdid themselves in acts of treachery and blood. in vain the emperor, atahualpa, after voluntarily placing himself in the hands of pizarro, filled the room used as his prison nine feet high with gold as ransom; when he could give no more he was tried on the preposterous charges of treason to charles v and of heresy, and suffered death at the stake. pizarro coolly pocketed the till then undreamed of sum of , , ducats,[ ] worth in our standards more than one hundred million dollars. [sidenote: circumnavigation of the globe, - ] but the crowning act of the age of discovery was the circumnavigation of the globe. the leader of the great enterprise that put the seal of man's dominion on the earth, was ferdinand magellan, a portuguese in spanish service. with a fleet of five vessels, only one of which put a ring around the world, and with a crew of about men of whom only returned successful, he sailed from europe. [sidenote: september , ] coasting down the east of south america, [october , ] exploring the inlets and rivers, he entered the straits that bear his name and covered their miles in thirty-eight days. after following the coast up some distance north, he struck across the pacific, the breadth of which he much underestimated. for ninety-eight days he was driven by the east trade-wind without once sighting land save two desert islands, while his crew endured extremities of hunger, thirst and scurvy. at last he came to the islands he called, after the thievish propensities of their inhabitants, the ladrones, making his first landing at guam. spending but three days here to refit and provision, he sailed again on march , [sidenote: ] and a week later discovered the islands known, since , as the philippines. { } in an expedition against a savage chief the great leader met his death on april , . as other sailors and as he, too, had previously been as far to the east as he now found himself, he had practically completed the circumnavigation of the globe. the most splendid triumph of the age of discovery coincided almost to a day with the time that luther was achieving the most glorious deed of the reformation at worms. [sidenote: september ] magellan's ship, the vittoria, proceeded under sebastian del cano, and finally, with thirty-one men, of whom only eighteen had started out in her, came back to portugal. the men who had burst asunder one of the bonds of the older world, were, nevertheless, deeply troubled by a strange, medieval scruple. having mysteriously lost a day by following the sun in his westward course, they did penance for having celebrated the fasts and feasts of the church on the wrong dates. [sidenote: portuguese exploration] while spain was extending her dominions westward, little portugal was building up an even greater empire in both hemispheres. in the fifteenth century, this hardy people, confined to their coast and without possibility of expanding inwards, had seen that their future lay upon the water. to the possessor of sea power the ocean makes of every land bordering on it a frontier, vulnerable to them and impervious to the enemy. the first ventures of the portuguese were naturally in the lands near by, the north african coast and the islands known as the madeiras and the azores. feeling their way southward along the african coast they reached the cape of good hope but did not at once go much further. [sidenote: or ] this path to india was not broken until eleven years later, when vasco da gama, after a voyage of great daring [sidenote: - ]--he was ninety-three days at sea on a course of miles from the cape verde islands to south africa--reached calicut on may , . this city, now sunken in the sea, was { } then the most flourishing port on the malabar coast, exploited entirely by mohammedan traders. spices had long been the staple of venetian trade with the orient, and when he returned with rich cargo of them the immediate effect upon europe was greater than that of the voyage of columbus. trade seeks to follow the line of least resistance, and the establishment of a water way between europe and the east was like connecting two electrically charged bodies in a leyden jar by a copper wire. the current was no longer forced through a poor medium, but ran easily through the better conductor. with more rapidity than one would think possible in that age, the commercial consequences of the discovery were appreciated. the trade of the levant died away, and the center of gravity was transferred from the mediterranean to the atlantic. while venice decayed lisbon rose with mushroom speed to the position of the great emporium of european ocean-borne trade, until she in her turn was supplanted by antwerp. da gama was soon imitated by others. [sidenote: ] cabral made commercial settlements at calicut and the neighboring town of cochin, and came home with unheard-of riches in spice, pearls and gems. [sidenote: ] da gama returned and bombarded calicut, and francis d'almeida was made governor of india [sidenote: ] and tried to consolidate the portuguese power there on the correct principle that who was lord of the sea was lord of the peninsula. the rough methods of the portuguese and their competition with the arab traders made war inevitable between the two rivals. to the other causes of enmity that of religion was added, for, like the spaniards, the portuguese tried to combine the characters of merchants and missionaries, of pirates and crusaders. when the first of da gama's sailors to land at calicut was asked what he sought, his laconic answer, "christians { } and spices," had in it as much of truth as of epigrammatic neatness. [sidenote: portuguese cruelty to indians] had the portuguese but treated the hindoos humanely they would have found in them allies against the mohammedan traders, but all of them, not excepting their greatest statesman, alphonso d'albuquerque, pursued a policy of frightfulness. when da gama met an arab ship, after sacking it, he blew it up with gunpowder and left it to sink in flames while the women on board held up their babies with piteous cries to touch the heart of this knight of christ and of mammon. without the least compunction albuquerque tells in his commentaries how he burned the indian villages, put part of their inhabitants to death and ordered the noses and ears of the survivors cut off. [sidenote: trade] nevertheless, the portuguese got what they wanted, the wealthy trade of the east. albuquerque, failing to storm calicut, seized goa farther north and made it the chief emporium. but they soon felt the need of stations farther east, for, as long as the arabs held malacca, where spices were cheaper, the intruders did not have the monopoly they desired. accordingly albuquerque seized this city on the malay straits, [sidenote: ] which, though now it has sunk into insignificance, was then the singapore or hong-kong of the far east. sumatra, java and the northern coast of australia were explored, the moluccas were bought from spain for , ducats, and even japan and china were reached by the daring traders. in the meantime posts were established along the whole western and eastern coasts of africa and in madagascar. but wherever they went the portuguese sought commercial advantage not permanent settlement. aptly compared by a chinese observer to fishes who died if taken from the sea, they founded an empire of vast length out of incredible thinness. { } [sidenote: brazil] the one exception to this rule, and an important one, was brazil. the least showy of the colonies and the one that brought in the least quick profit eventually became a second and a greater portugal, outstripping the mother country in population and dividing south america almost equally with the spanish. in many ways the settlement of this colony resembled that of north america by the english more than it did the violent and superficial conquests of spain. settlers came to it less as adventurers than as home-seekers and some of them fled from religious persecution. the great source of wealth, the sugar-cane, was introduced from madeira in and in the following year the mother country sent a royal governor and some troops. [sidenote: decadence of portugal] but even more than spain portugal overtaxed her strength in her grasp for sudden riches. the cup that her mariners took from the gorgeous eastern enchantress had a subtle, transforming drug mingled with its spices, whereby they were metamorphosed, if not into animals, at least into orientals, or africans. while lisbon grew by leaps and bounds the country-side was denuded, and the landowners, to fill the places of the peasants who had become sailors, imported quantities of negro slaves. thus not only the portuguese abroad, but those at home, undeterred by racial antipathy, adulterated their blood with that of the dark peoples. add to this that the trade, immensely lucrative as it seemed, was an enormous drain on the population of the little state; and the causes of portugal's decline, almost as sudden as its rise, are in large part explained. so rapid was it, indeed, that it was noticed not only by foreign travellers but by the natives. camoens, though he dedicated his life to composing an epic in honor of vasco da gama, lamented his country's decay in these terms: { } o pride of empire! o vain covetise of that vain glory that we men call fame . . . what punishment and what just penalties thou dost inflict on those thou dost inflame . . . thou dost depopulate our ancient state till dissipation brings debility. nor were artificial causes wanting to make the colonies expensive and the home treasury insolvent. the governors as royal favorites regarded their appointments as easy roads to quick wealth, and they plundered not only the inhabitants but their royal master. the inefficient and extravagant management of trade, which was a government monopoly, furnished a lamentable example of the effects of public ownership. and when possible the church interfered to add the burden of bigotry to that of corruption. an amusing example of this occurred when a supposed tooth of buddha was brought to goa, to redeem which the rajah of pegu offered a sum equal to half a million dollars. while the government was inclined to sell, the archbishop forbade the acceptance of such tainted money and ordered the relic destroyed. [sidenote: - ] within portugal itself other factors aided the decline. from the accession of john iii to the amalgamation with spain sixty years later, the cortes was rarely summoned. the expulsion of many jews in , the massacre and subsequent exile of the new christians or marranos, [sidenote: - ] most of whom went to holland, commenced an era of destructive bigotry completed by the inquisition. [sidenote: the inquisition established, ] strict censorship of the press and the education of the people by the jesuits each added their bit to the forces of spiritual decadence. for the fury of religious zeal ill supplied the exhausted powers of a state fainting with loss of blood and from the intoxication of corruption. gradually her grasp relaxed on north africa until only three { } small posts in morocco were left her, those of ceuta, arzila and tangier. a last frantic effort to recover them and to punish the infidel, undertaken by the young king sebastian, ended in disaster and in his death in . after a short reign of two years by his uncle henry, who as a cardinal had no legitimate heirs, portugal feebly yielded to her strongest suitor, philip ii, [sidenote: - ] and for sixty years remained a captive of spain. [sidenote: other nations explore] other nations eagerly crowded in to seize the trident that was falling from the hands of the iberian peoples. there were james cartier of france, and sebastian cabot and sir martin frobisher and sir francis drake of england, and others. they explored the coast of north america and sought a northwest passage to asia. drake, after a voyage of two years and a half, [sidenote: - ] duplicated the feat of magellan, though he took quite a different course, following the american western coast up to the golden gate. he, too, returned "very richly fraught with gold, silver, silk and precious stones," the best incentive to further endeavor. but no colonies of permanence and consequence were as yet planted by the northern nations. until the seventeenth century their voyages were either actuated by commercial motives or were purely adventurous. the age did not lack daring explorers by land as well as by sea. lewis di varthema rivalled his countryman marco polo by an extensive journey in the first decade of the century. like burckhardt and burton in the nineteenth century he visited mecca and medina as a mohammedan pilgrim, and also journeyed to cairo, beirut, aleppo and damascus and then to the distant lands of india and the malay peninsula. [sidenote: russia] it may seem strange to speak of russia in connection with the age of discovery, and yet it was precisely in the light of a new and strange land that our english ancestors regarded it. cabot's voyage to the { } white sea in the middle of the century was every whit as new an adventure as was the voyage to india. richard chancellor and others followed him and established a regular trade with muscovy, [sidenote: ] and through it and the caspian with asia. the rest of europe, west of poland and the turks, hardly heard of russia or felt its impact more than they now do of the tartars of the steppes. but it was just at this time that russia was taking the first strides on the road to become a great power. how broadly operative were some of the influences at work in europe lies patent in the singular parallel that her development offers to that of her more civilized contemporaries. just as despotism, consolidation, and conquest were the order of the day elsewhere, so they were in the eastern plains of europe. basil iii [sidenote: basil iii, - ] struck down the rights of cities, nobles and princes to bring the whole country under his own autocracy. ivan the terrible, [sidenote: ivan iv, - ] called czar of all the russias, added to this policy one of extensive territorial aggrandizement. having humbled the tartars he acquired much land to the south and east, and then turned his attention to the west, where, however, poland barred his way to the baltic. just as in its subsequent history, so then, one of the great needs of russia was for a good port. another of her needs was for better technical processes. anticipating peter the great, ivan endeavored to get german workmen to initiate good methods, but he failed to accomplish much, partly because charles v forbade his subjects to go to add strength to a rival state. [sidenote: europe vs. asia] while europe found most of the other continents as soft as butter to her trenchant blade, she met her match in asia. the theory of herodotus that the course of history is marked by alternate movements east and west has been strikingly confirmed by { } subsequent events. in a secular grapple the two continents have heaved back and forth, neither being able to conquer the other completely. if the empires of macedon and rome carried the line of victory far to the orient, they were avenged by the successive inroads of the huns, the saracens, the mongols and the turks. if for the last four centuries the line has again been pushed steadily back, until europe dominates asia, it is far from certain that this condition will be permanent. in spiritual matters europe owes a balance of indebtedness to asia, and by far the greater part of it to the semites. the phoenician alphabet and arabian numerals are capital borrowed and yielding how enormous a usufruct! above all, asiatic religions--albeit the greatest of them was the child of hellas as well as of judaea--have conquered the whole world save a few savage tribes. ever since the cry of "there is no god but allah and mahomet is his prophet" had aroused the arabian nomads from their age-long slumber, it was as a religious warfare that the contest of the continents revealed itself. after the scimitar had swept the greek empire out of asia minor and had cut spain from christendom, the crusades and the rise of the spanish kingdoms had gradually beaten it back. but while the saracen was being slowly but surely driven from the western peninsula, the banner of the crescent in the east was seized by a race with a genius for war inversely proportional to its other gifts. [sidenote: the turks] the turks, who have never added to the arts of peace anything more important than the fabrication of luxurious carpets and the invention of a sensuous bath, were able to found cannon and to drill battalions that drove the armies of nobler races before them. from the sack of constantinople in to the siege of vienna in and even to some extent long after that, the { } majestic and terrible advance of the janizaries threatened the whole fabric of europe. [sidenote: selim i, - ] under sultan selim i the turkish arms were turned to the east and south. persia, kurdistan, syria and egypt were crushed, while the title of caliph, and with it the spiritual leadership of the mahommetan world, was wrested from the last of the abassid dynasty. but it was under his successor, suleiman the magnificent, [sidenote: suleiman - ] that the banner of the prophet, "fanned by conquest's crimson wing," was borne to the heart of europe. belgrade and rhodes were captured, hungary completely overrun, and vienna besieged. the naval exploits of khair-ed-din, called barbarossa, carried the terror of the turkish arms into the whole mediterranean, subdued algiers and defeated the christian fleets under andrew doria. on the death of suleiman the crescent moon had attained the zenith of its glory. the vast empire was not badly administered; some authorities hold that justice was better served under the sultan than under any contemporary christian king. a hierarchy of officials, administrative, ecclesiastical, secretarial and military, held office directly under the sultan, being wisely granted by him sufficient liberty to allow initiative, and yet kept under control direct enough to prevent the secession of distant provinces. the international position of the infidel power was an anomalous one. almost every pope tried to revive the crusading spirit against the arch-enemy of christ, and the greatest epic poet of the sixteenth century chose for his subject the delivery of jerusalem in a holy war. on the other hand the most christian king found no difficulty in making alliances with the sublime porte, and the same course was advocated, though not adopted, by some of the protestant states of germany. finally, that champion of the church, philip { } ii, for the first time in the history of his country, [sidenote: ] made a peace with the infidel sultan recognizing his right to exist in the society of nations. the sixteenth century, which in so much else marked a transition from medieval to modern times, in this also saw the turning-point of events, inasmuch as the tide drawn by the half moon to its flood about , from that time onwards has steadily, if very slowly, ebbed. [ ] allowing $ . to a ducat this would be $ , , intrinsically at a time when money had ten times the purchasing power that it has today. { } chapter x social conditions section . population [sidenote: unity of civilized world] political history is that of the state; economic and intellectual history that of a different group. in modern times this group includes all civilized nations. even in political history there are many striking parallels, but in social development and in culture the recent evolution of civilized peoples has been nearly identical. this fundamental unity of the nations has grown stronger with the centuries on account of improving methods of transport and communication. formally it might seem that in the middle ages the white nations were more closely bound together than they are now. they had one church, a nearly identical jurisprudence, one great literature and one language for the educated classes; they even inherited from rome the ideal of a single world-state. but if the growth of national pride, the division of the church and the rise of modern languages and literatures have been centrifugal forces, they have been outweighed by the advent of new influences tending to bind all peoples together. the place of a single church is taken by a common point of view, the scientific; the place of latin as a medium of learning has been taken by english, french, and german, each one more widely known to those to whom it is not native now than ever was latin in the earlier centuries. the fruits of discovery are common to all nations, who now live under similar conditions, reading the same books and (under different names) the same newspapers, doing the same { } business and enjoying the same luxuries in the same manner. even in matters of government we are visibly approaching the perhaps distant but apparently certain goal of a single world-state. [sidenote: changes in population] in estimating the economic and cultural conditions of the sixteenth century it is therefore desirable to treat western europe as a whole. one of the marked differences between all countries then and now is in population. no simple law has been discovered as to the causes of the fluctuations in the numbers of the people within a given territory. this varies with the wealth of the territory, but not in direct ratio to it; for it can be shown that the wealth of europe in the last four hundred years has increased vastly more than its population. nor can it be discovered to vary directly in proportion to the combined amount and distribution of wealth, for in sixteenth-century england while the number of the people was increasing wealth was being concentrated in fewer hands almost as fast as it was being created. it is obvious that sanitation and transportation have a good deal to do with the population of certain areas. the largest cities of our own times could not have existed in the middle ages, for they could not have been provisioned, nor have been kept endurably healthy without elaborate aqueducts and drains. other more obscure factors enter in to complicate the problems of population. some nations, like spain in the sixteenth and ireland in the nineteenth century, have lost immensely through emigration. the cause of this was doubtless not that the nation in question was growing absolutely poorer, but that the increase of wealth or in accessibility to richer lands made it relatively poorer. it is obvious again that great visitations like pestilence or war diminish population directly, though the effect of such factors is usually { } temporary. how much voluntary sterility operates is problematical. aegidius albertinus, writing in , attributed the growth in population of protestant countries since the reformation to the abolition of sacerdotal celibacy, and this has also been mentioned as a cause by a recent writer. probably the last named forces have a very slight influence; the primary one being, as malthus stated, the increase of means of subsistence. as censuses were almost unknown to sixteenth-century europe outside of a few italian cities, the student is forced to rely for his data on various other calculations, in some cases tolerably reliable, in others deplorably deficient. the best of these are the enumerations of hearths made for purposes of taxation in several countries. other counts were sometimes made for fiscal or military, and occasionally for religious, purposes. estimates by contemporary observers supplement our knowledge, which may be taken as at least approximately correct. [sidenote: england and wales] the religious census of gave the number of communicants in england and wales as , , , to which must be added recusants. adding per cent. for non-communicants, we arrive at the figure of , , , which is doubtless too low. another calculation based on a record of births and deaths yields the figure , , for the year . the average, , , , is probably nearly correct, of which about a tenth in wales. england had grown considerably during the century, this increase being especially remarkable in the large towns. whereas, in , , quarters of wheat were consumed in london annually, the figure for is , . the population in the same time had probably increased from , to , . no figures worth anything can be given for ireland, and for scotland it is only safe to say { } that in the population was about , and in about , . [sidenote: the netherlands] enumerations of hearths and of communicants give good bases for reckoning the population of the netherlands. holland, the largest of the northern provinces, had about , people in ; brabant the greatest of the southern, in had , . the population of the largest town, antwerp, in was , , in about , . at the same time it is remarkable that in ghent impressed dürer as the greatest city he had seen in the low countries. for the whole territory of the netherlands, including holland and belgium, and a little more on the borders, the population was in about , , . this is the same figure as that given for by lewis guicciardini. later in the century the country suffered by war and emigration. [sidenote: germany] the lack of a unified government, and the great diversity of conditions, makes the population of germany more difficult to estimate. brandenburg, having in an area of , square miles, and a population between , and , , has been aptly compared for size and numbers to the present state of vermont. bavaria had in a population of , ; in of , . würzburg had in only , ; hamburg in , and in , . danzig had in about , . the largest city in central germany, if not in the whole country--as a chronicler stated in --was erfurt, with a population of , in . it was the center of the rising saxon industries, mining and dying, and of commerce. lübeck, cologne, nuremberg and augsburg equalled or perhaps surpassed it in size, and certainly in wealth. the total population of german switzerland was over , . the whole german-speaking population of central europe amounted to perhaps twenty millions { } in , though it had been reckoned by the imperial government in as twelve millions. [sidenote: france] the number of frenchmen did not greatly increase in france in the th century. though the borders of the state were extended, she suffered terribly by religious wars, and somewhat by emigration. not only did many huguenots flee from her to switzerland, the netherlands and england, but economic reasons led to large movements from the south and perhaps from the north. to fill up the gap caused by emigration from spain a considerable number of french peasants moved to that land; and it is also possible that the same class of people sought new homes in burgundy and savoy to escape the pressure of taxes and dues. various estimates concur in giving france a population of , , to , , . the paris of henry ii was by far the largest city in the world, numbering perhaps , ; but when henry iv besieged it it had been reduced by war to , . after that it waxed mightily again. [sidenote: italy] italy, leader in many ways, was the first to take accurate statistics of population, births and deaths. these begin by the middle of the fifteenth century, but are rare until the middle of the sixteenth, when they become frequent. notwithstanding war and pestilence the numbers of inhabitants seemed to grow steadily, the apparent result in the statistics being perhaps in part due to the increasing rigor of the census. herewith follow specimens of the extant figures: the city of brescia had , in , and , in . during the same period, however, the people in her whole territory of square miles had increased from , to , . the city of verona had , in and , in ; her land of square miles had in the first named year , , in the last , . the kingdom of sicily grew from , in to { } , in , and , , in . the kingdom of naples, without the capital, had about , , people in ; , , in ; the total including the capital amounted in to , , . the republic of venice increased from , , in to , , in . florence with her territory had , in and , in . in the year milan with lombardy had , , inhabitants; savoy in italy , ; continental genoa , ; parma, piacenza and modena together , ; sardinia , ; corsica , ; malta , ; lucca , . the population of rome fluctuated violently. in it is supposed to have been about , , but was reduced by the sack to , . after this it rapidly recovered, reaching , under paul iv ( ), and , under sixtus v ( ). the total population of the states of the church when the first census was taken in was , , . [sidenote: spain] the final impression one gets after reading the extremely divergent estimates of the population of spain is that it increased during the first half of the century and decreased during the latter half. the highest figure for the increase of population during the reign of charles v is the untrustworthy one of habler, who believes the number of inhabitants to have doubled. this belief is founded on the conviction that the wealth of the kingdom doubled in that time. but though population tends to increase with wealth, it certainly does not increase in the same proportion as wealth, so that, considering this fact and also that the increase in wealth as shown by the doubling of income from royal domains was in part merely apparent, due to the falling value of money, we may dismiss habler's figure as too high. and yet there is good evidence for the belief that there was a considerable increment. the cities especially gained with the new stimulus to { } commerce and industry. in toledo employed , workers in silk, who had increased fivefold by . unfortunately for accuracy these figures are merely contemporary guesses, but they certainly indicate a large growth in the population of toledo, and similar figures are given for seville, burgos and other manufacturing and trading centers. from such estimates, however, combined with the censuses of hearths, peculiarly unsatisfactory in spain as they excluded the privileged classes and were, as their violent fluctuations show, carelessly made, we may arrive at the conclusion that in the population of spain was barely , , . more difficult, if possible, is it to measure the amount of the decline in the latter half of the century. [sidenote: decline] it was widely noticed and commented on by contemporaries, who attributed it in part to the increase in sheep-farming (as in england) and in part to emigration to america. there were doubtless other more important and more obscure causes, namely the increasing rivalry in both commerce and industry of the north of europe and the consequent decay of spain's means of livelihood. the emigration amounted on the average to perhaps per annum throughout the century. the total spanish population of america was reckoned by velasco in at , households, or , souls. this would, however, imply a much larger emigration, probably double the last number, to account for the many spaniards lost by the perils of the sea or in the depths of the wilderness. it is known, for example, that whereas the spanish population of venezuela was reckoned at households at least spaniards had gone to settle there. an emigration of , before , or say , for the whole century, would have left a considerable gap at home. add to this the industrial decline by which { } altamira reckons that the cities of the center and north, which suffered most, lost from one-half to one-third of their total population, and it is evident that a very considerable shrinkage took place. the census of reported a population of , , . [sidenote: portugal] the same tendency to depopulation was noticed to a much greater degree by contemporary observers of portugal. unfortunately, no even approximately accurate figures can be given. two million is almost certainly too large for . [sidenote: general table] the following statistical table will enable the reader to form some estimate of the movements of population. admitting that the margin of error is fairly large in some of the earlier estimates, it is believed that they are sufficiently near the truth to be of real service. _country _ england and wales . . . . . . . . , , , , scotland . . . . . . . . . . . . . , , the netherlands (holland and belgium) ( ) . . . . . . . . , , germany (including austria, german switzerland, franche comté and savoy north of the alps, but excluding hungary, the netherlands, east and west prussia) . . . . . , , , , france ( ) . . . . . . . . . . , , italy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , , , , spain ( and ) . . . . . . , , [ ] , , poland with east and west prussia , , denmark . . . . . . . . . . . . . , sweden, norway and finland . . . . , , [ ] for a higher estimate--ten to twelve millions in --see note in bibliography. section . wealth and prices [sidenote: gigantic increase in wealth since th century] if the number of europe's inhabitants has increased fourfold since luther's time, the amount of her wealth has increased in a vastly greater ratio. the difference { } between the twentieth and the sixteenth centuries is greater than anyone would at first blush believe possible. moreover it is a difference that is, during times of peace, continually increasing. during the century from the close of the napoleonic to the opening of the great war, the wealth of the white races probably doubled every twenty-five years. the new factors that made this possible were the exploited resources of america, and the steam-engine. prior to the increase of the world's wealth was much slower, but if it doubled once a century,--as would seem not improbable--we should have to allow that the world of was one hundred and twenty-eight times as rich as it was in . [sidenote: change from poverty to affluence emphasized] of course such a statement cannot pretend to anything like exactitude; the mathematical figure is a mere figure of speech; it is intended only to emphasize the fact that one of the most momentous changes during the last four centuries has been that from poverty to affluence. that the statement, surprising as it may seem, is no exaggeration, may be borne out by a few comparisons. [sidenote: war a test of a nation's financial strength] one of the tests of a nation's financial strength is that of war. francis i in time of war mustered at most an army of , , and he reached this figure, or perhaps slightly exceeded it, only once during his reign, in the years - . this is only half the number of soldiers, proportionately to the population, that france maintained in time of peace at the opening of the twentieth century. and for more than four years, at a time when war was infinitely more expensive than it was when pavia was fought, france kept in the field about an even five millions of men, more than an eighth of her population instead of about one one-hundred-and-fiftieth. similar figures could be given for germany and england. it is true that the power of { } modern states is multiplied by their greater facilities for borrowing, but with all allowances the contrast suggests an enormous difference of wealth. [sidenote: labor power of the world] take, as a standard of comparison, the labor power of the world. in the united states alone produced , , tons of coal. each ton burned gives almost as much power as is expended by two laborers working for a whole year. thus the united states from its coal only had command of the equivalent of the labor of , , , men, or more than thrice the adult male labor power of the whole world; more than fifty times the whole labor power of sixteenth-century europe. this does not take account of the fact that labor is far more productive now than then, even without steam. the comparison is instructive because the population of the united states in was about equal to that of the whole of europe in . the same impression would be given by a comparison of the production of any other standard product. more gold was produced in the year than the whole stock of gold in the world in , perhaps in . more wheat is produced annually in minnesota than the granaries of the cities of the world would hold four centuries ago. [sidenote: poverty of the middle ages] in fact, there was hardly wealth at all in the middle ages, only degrees of poverty, and the sixteenth century first began to see the accumulation of fortunes worthy of the name. in there were persons in france with an income of more than $ , per annum; among them were with an income of more than $ , . in england in seventy-nine persons paid income taxes on estates of more than $ , , . on the other hand the richest man in france, jacques coeur, whose fortune was proverbial like that of rockefeller today, had in a capital of only { } $ , , . the total wealth of the house of fugger about has been estimated at $ , , , though the capital of their bank was never anything like that. the contrast was greatest among the very richest class, but it was sufficiently striking in the middle classes. such a condition as comfort hardly existed. the same impression will be given to the student of public finance. as more will be said in another paragraph on the revenues of the principal states, only one example need be given here for the sake of contrast. the total revenue of francis i was $ , per annum, that of henry ii even less, $ , . the revenue of france in was $ , , . henry viii often had more difficulty in raising a loan of l , than the english government had recently in borrowing six billions. [sidenote: value of money] it is impossible to say which is the harder task, to compare the total wealth of the world at two given periods, or to compare the value of money at different times. even the mechanical difficulties in the comparison of prices are enormous. when we read that wheat at wittenberg sold at one gulden the scheffel, it is necessary to determine in the first place how much a gulden and how much a scheffel represented in terms of dollars and bushels. when we discover that there were half a dozen different guldens, and half a dozen separate measures known as scheffels, varying from province to province and from time to time, and varying widely, it is evident that great caution is necessary in ascertaining exactly which gulden and exactly which scheffel is meant. when coin and measure have been reduced to known quantities, there remains the problem of fixing the quality. cloth is quoted in the sixteenth century as of standard sizes and grades, but neither of these important factors is accurately known to any modern { } economist. one would think that in quoting prices of animals an invariable standard would be secured. quite the contrary. so much has the breed of cattle improved that a fat ox now weighs two or three times what a good ox weighed four centuries ago. horses are larger, stronger and faster; hens lay many more eggs, cows give much more milk now than formerly. shoes, clothes, lumber, candles, are not of the same quality in different centuries, and of course there is an ever increasing list of new articles in which no comparison can be made. [sidenote: fluctuation in coinage] nevertheless, some allowance can be made for all factors involved, as far as they are mechanical; some comparisons can be given that bear a sufficiently close relation to exactitude to form the basis from which certain valid deductions can be drawn. now first as to the intrinsic value, in amounts of gold and silver in the several coins. the vast fluctuation in the value of the english shilling, due to the successive debasements and final restitution of the coinage, is thus expressed: _year troy grains year troy grains_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . a similar depreciation, more gradual but never rectified, is seen in the value of french money. the standard of reckoning was the livre tournois, which varied intrinsically in value of the silver put into it as follows: years intrinsic value of silver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents { } - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents [sidenote: value of spanish coins] the standard spanish gold coin after was the ducat, which had . grammes of gold (value in our money $ . ). this was divided into maravedis, which therefore had a value of about two-thirds of a cent each. a castilian marc of gold had grammes or a value of about $ . after a handsome silver coin, known as the peso fuerte or "piece of eight" because each contained eight reals, was minted in america. its value was about $ . of our money, it being the predecessor of our dollar. the great difficulty with the coinage of germany and italy is not so much in its fluctuation as in the number of mints. the name gulden [sidenote: gulden a general term] was given to almost any coin, originally, as its etymology signifies, a gold piece, but later also to a silver piece. among gold guldens there was the rhenish gulden intrinsically worth $ . ; the philip's gulden in the netherlands of cents and the carolus gulden coined after and worth $ . . but the coin commonly used in reckoning was the silver gulden, worth intrinsically cents. this was divided into groschen. other coins quite ordinarily met with in the literature of the times are pounds ( . cents), pfennigs (various values), stivers, crowns, nobles, angels ($ ), and hungarians ducats ($ . ). since the chief silver coin was the thaler, at first considered the equal of a silver gulden. the law of , however, made them two different coins, restoring the thaler to what had probably been its former value of cents, and leaving the imperial gulden in law, what it had commonly become in fact, a lesser amount of silver. the coinage of italy was dominated by the gold gulden or florin of florence and the ducat of venice, { } each worth not far from $ . of our money. both these coins, partly on account of their beauty, partly because of the simple honesty with which they were kept at the nominal standard, attained just fame throughout the middle ages and thereafter, and became widely used in other lands. [sidenote: wheat] the standard of value determined, it is now possible to compare the prices of some staple articles. first in importance comes wheat, which fluctuated enormously within short periods at the same place and in terms of the same amounts of silver. from luther's letters we learn that wheat sold at wittenberg for one gulden a scheffel in and for three groschen a scheffel in , the latter price being considered "so cheap as never before," the former reached in a time almost of famine and calling for intervention on the part of the government. however we interpret these figures (and i believe them to mean that wheat sold at from twelve cents to eighty cents a bushel) they certainly indicate a tremendous instability in prices, due to the poor communications and backward methods of agriculture, making years of plenty alternate with years of hunger. in the case of wittenberg, the lower level was nearer the normal, for in wheat was there sold at twenty cents a bushel. in other parts of germany it was dearer; at strassburg from - it averaged cents a bushel; from - it went up to an average of cents, and from - the average again rose to cents a bushel. prices also rose in england throughout the century even in terms of silver. of course part of the rise in the middle years was due to the debasement of the coinage. reduced to bushels and dollars, the following table shows the tendency of prices: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents a bushel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents { } . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $ . wheat in france averaged cents a bushel prior to , after which it rose markedly in price, touching $ . in , under exceptional conditions. in order to compare with prices nowadays we must remember that $ a bushel was a remarkably good price before the late war, during which it was fixed at $ . by the american government. barley in england rose from cents a bushel in to cents in and cents in . it was in cents a bushel. oats rose from cents a bushel in england in to cents in ; in cents. [sidenote: animals] animals sold much lower in the sixteenth century than they do now, though it must be remembered that they are worth more after several centuries of careful breeding. horses then sold at $ . in england and at $ to $ in france; the average price in was $ for working animals. cows were worth $ in england in ; from $ to $ . in france; oxen apparently came considerably higher, averaging in england $ a head in and in france from $ to $ a yoke. at present they are sold by weight, averaging in cents per lb., or $ for one weighing a thousand pounds. beef then cost about / of a cent a pound instead of cents as in . a sheep was sold in at $ . , a large swine at $ , and pigs at cents apiece. pork cost cents a pound; hens sold in england at cents a piece and geese and ducks for the same; at wittenberg geese fetched only cents in . eggs might have been bought at cents a dozen. { } [sidenote: groceries] wholesale prices of groceries, taken mostly from an english table drawn up about , were as follows: oil was $ the ton, or cents a gallon; train-oil was just half that price; newfoundland fish cost then $ . the quintal dry, as against $ . in . gascon wines (claret) varied according to quality, from cents to cents a quart. salt fetched $ . a ton, which is very close to the price that it was in ($ . per bbl. of lbs.). soap was $ the hundredweight. pepper and sugar cost nearly the same, about $ the hundredweight, or far higher than they were in , when each cost $ the hundredweight. spices also cost more in the sixteenth century than they do now, and rose throughout the century. by the wholesale price per hundredweight was $ for cloves, the same for nutmegs, $ for cinnamon, $ for mace. ginger was $ the hundredweight, and candles . cents the lb. as against . cents now. [sidenote: drygoods] drygoods varied immensely in cost. raw wool sold in england in for cents per lb., as against cents just four hundred years later. fine cloth sold at $ "the piece," the length and breadth of which it is unfortunately impossible to determine accurately. different grades came in different sizes, averaging a yard in width, but from yards to yards in length, the finer coming in longer rolls. sorting cloths were $ the piece. linen cost cents a yard in ; mary, queen of scots, five years later paid $ . the yard for purple velvet and cents the yard for buckram to line the same. the coarse clothes of the poor were cheaper, a workman's suit in france costing $ . in , a child's whole wardrobe $ . , and a soldier's uniform $ . . the prices of the poorest women's dresses ranged from $ to $ each. in albert dürer paid in the netherlands cents for one pair of shoes, cents for another and cents for a { } pair of woman's gloves. a pair of spectacles cost him cents, a pair of gloves for himself cents. [sidenote: metals] metals were dearer in the sixteenth century than they are now. iron cost $ a ton in against $ a ton in . lead fetched $ the ton and tin $ the cwt. the ratio of gold to silver was about to . the only fuel much used was wood, which was fairly cheap but of course not nearly as efficient as our coal. [sidenote: interest] interest, as the price of money, varied then as it does now in inverse ratio to the security offered by the debtor, and on the whole within much the same range that it does now. the best security was believed to be that of the german free cities, governed as they were by the commercial class that appreciated the virtue of prompt and honest payment. accordingly, we find that they had no trouble in borrowing at per cent., their bonds taking the form of perpetual annuities, like the english consols. so eagerly were these investments sought that they were apportioned on petition as special favors to the creditors. the cities of paris and london also enjoyed high credit. the national governments had to pay far higher, owing to their poverty and dishonesty. francis i borrowed at per cent.; charles v paid higher in the market of antwerp, the extreme instance being that of per cent. per annum. in he regularly paid per cent., a ruinous rate that foreshadowed his bankruptcy and was partly caused by its forecast. until the recent war we were accustomed to think of the great nations borrowing at - per cent., but during the war the rate immensely rose. anglo-french bonds, backed by the joint and several credit of the two nations, sold on the new york stock exchange in at a price that would yield the investor more than per cent., and city of paris bonds at a rate of more than per cent. { } commercial paper, or loans advanced by banks to merchants on good security, of course varied. the lowest was reached at genoa where from time to time merchants secured accommodation at per cent. the average in germany was per cent. and this was made the legal rate by brandenburg in . but usurers, able to take advantage of the necessities of poor debtors, habitually exacted more, as they do now, and loans on small mortgages or on pawned articles often ran at per cent. on the whole, the rate of interest fell slightly during the century. [sidenote: real estate] the price of real estate is more difficult to compare than almost anything, owing to the individual circumstances of each purchase. land in france sold at rates ranging from $ to $ the acre. luther bought a little farm in the country for $ , and a piece of property in wittenberg for $ . after his death, in , the house he lived in, a large and handsome building formerly the augustinian cloister, fetched $ . the house can be seen today[ ] and would certainly, one would think, now bring fifteen times as much. [sidenote: books] books were comparatively cheap. the greek testament sold for cents, a latin testament for half that amount, a latin folio bible published in for $ , luther's first new testament at cents. one might get a copy of the pandects for $ . , of vergil for cents, a greek grammar for cents, demosthenes and aeschines in one volume at cents, one of luther's more important tracts for cents and the condemnation of him by the universities in a small pamphlet at cents. one of the things that has gone down most in price since that day is postage. dürer while in the netherlands paid a messenger cents to deliver a { } letter (or several letters?), presumably sent to his home in nuremberg. [sidenote: wages] in accordance with the general rule that wages follow the trend of prices sluggishly, whether upwards or downwards, there is less change to be observed in them throughout the sixteenth century than there is in the prices of commodities. subject to government regulation, the remuneration of all kinds of labor remained nearly stationary while the cost of living was rising. startling is the difference in the rewards of the various classes, that of the manual laborers being cruelly low, that of professional men somewhat less in proportion to the cost of living than it is today, and that of government officers being very high. no one except court officials got a salary over $ a year, and some of them got much more. in a french chamberlain was paid $ , per annum. a french navvy received cents a day in , a carpenter as much as cents. a male domestic was given $ to $ a year in addition to his keep and a woman $ to $ . as the number of working days in catholic countries was only about a year, workmen made from $ to as low as $ . if anything, labor was worse paid in germany than it was in france. agricultural labor in england was paid in two scales, one for summer and one for winter. it varied from cents to cents a day, the smaller sum being paid only to men who were also boarded. in summer freemasons and master carpenters got from cents to cents for a terribly long day, in winter cents to cents for a shorter day. the following scale was fixed by law in england in : a hired farmer was to have $ a year and $ for livery; a common farm hand was allowed $ . and $ . extra for livery; a "mean servant" $ and $ . respectively, a man child { } $ and $ ; a chief woman cook $ and $ . , a mean or simple woman $ and $ ; a woman child $ . and $ . all were of course boarded and lodged. the pay of french soldiers under francis i was for privates $ a year in time of war; this fell to $ a year in time of peace; for captains $ a month in time of peace and $ in time of war. captains in the english navy received $ a month; common seamen $ . a month for wages and the same allowance for food. [sidenote: pay of clergymen] the church fared little better than the army. in scotland, a poor country but one in which the clergy were respected, by the law of , a parson if a single man was given $ a year, if a married man a maximum of $ a year; probably a parsonage was added. doubtless many protestant ministers eked out their subsistence by fees, as the catholic priests certainly did. dürer gave cents to a friar who confessed his wife. every baptism, marriage and burial was taxed a certain amount. in france one could hire a priest to say a mass at from cents to $ in , and at from to cents in . at this price it has remained since, a striking instance of religious conservatism working to the detriment of the priest, for the same money represents much less in real wages now than it did then. [sidenote: physicians] fees for physicians ranged from to cents a visit in germany about . treatment and medicine were far higher. at antwerp dürer paid $ . for a small quantity of medicine for his wife. fees were sometimes given for a whole course of attendance. in england we hear of such "cures" paid for at from $ . to $ . very little, if any, advice was given free to the poor. the physicians for the french king received a salary of $ a year and other favors. william butts, physician to henry viii, had $ per { } annum, in addition to a knighthood; and his salary was increased to over $ for attending the duke of richmond. [sidenote: teachers] teachers in the lower schools were regarded as lackeys and paid accordingly. nicholas udal, head master of eton, received $ per annum and various small allowances. university professors were treated more liberally. luther and melanchthon at wittenberg got a maximum of $ per annum, which was about the same as the stipend of leading professors in other german universities and at oxford and cambridge. the teacher also got a small honorarium from each student. when paul iii restored the sapienza at rome he paid a minimum of $ per annum to some friars who taught theology and who were cared for by their order, but he gave high salaries to the professors of rhetoric and medicine. ordinarily these received $ a year, but one professor of the classics reached the highwater-mark with nearly $ . [sidenote: royalties] the rewards of literary men were more consistently small in the sixteenth century than they are now, owing to the absence of effective copyright. an author usually received a small sum from the printer to whom he first offered his manuscript, but his subsequent royalties, if any, depended solely on the goodwill of the publisher. a wittenberg printer offered luther $ per annum for his manuscripts, but the reformer declined it, wishing to make his books as cheap as possible. in erasmus got $ . from badius the parisian printer for a new edition of his _adages_. in fact, the rewards of letters, such as they were, were indirect, in the form of pensions, gifts and benefices from the great. erasmus got so many of these favors that he lived more than comfortably. luther died almost a rich man, so many _honoraria_ did he collect from noble admirers. rabelais was given a benefice, though { } he only lived two years afterwards to enjoy its fruits. henry viii gave $ to thomas murner for writing against luther. but the lot of the average writer was hard. fulsome flattery was the most lucrative production of the muse. [sidenote: artists] artists fared better. dürer sold one picture for $ and another for $ , not counting the "tip" which his wife asked and received on each occasion from the patron. probably his woodcuts brought him more from the printers than any single painting, and when he died he left the then respectable sum of $ , . he had been offered a pension of $ per annum and a house at antwerp by that city if he would settle there, but he preferred to return to nuremberg, where he was pensioned $ a year by the emperor. leonardo da vinci and michelangelo both received $ a month for work done for a prince, and the latter was given a pension of $ a year by paul iii. raphael in left an estate of $ , . [sidenote: value of money] if a comparison of the value of money is made, the final impression that one gets is that an ounce of gold was in , let us say, expected to do about ten times as much work as the same weight of precious metal performed in .[ ] if a few articles were then actually dearer, they were comparatively unimportant and were balanced by other articles even more than ten times as cheap. but a dollar will buy so many articles now which did not exist in former ages that a plausible case can be made out for the paradox that money is now worth more than it ever was before. if an ounce of gold would in luther's time exchange for a much larger quantity of simple necessaries than it will purchase now, on the other hand a man with an income of $ a year is far better off than a man with the { } same income, or indeed with any income, was then. [sidenote: trend of prices] notwithstanding the great difficulties of making out any fair index number representing the cost of living and applicable to long periods, owing to the fact that articles vary from time to time, as when candles are replaced by gas and gas by electricity, yet the general trend of prices can be pretty plainly ascertained. generally speaking, prices--measured in weight of gold and not in coin--sank slowly from till under the influence of better technical methods of production and possibly of the draining of gold and silver to the orient. from till prices rose quite slowly on account of the increased production of gold and silver and its more rapid circulation by means of better banking. from to prices rose with enormous rapidity, partly because of the destruction of wealth and increase in the cost of production following in the wake of the french and dutch wars of religion, and still more, perhaps, on account of the torrent of american silver suddenly poured into the lap of europe. taking the century as a whole, we find that wheat rose the most, as much as per cent. in england, per cent. in france and per cent. in germany. other articles rose less, and in some cases remained stationary, or sank in price. money wages rose slowly, far less than the cost of living. [sidenote: increase in volume of precious metals] apart from special circumstances affecting the production of particular classes of goods, the main cause of the general trend of prices upwards was probably the increase in the volume of the precious metals. just how great this was, it is impossible to determine, and yet a calculation can be made, yielding figures near enough the actual to be of service. from the middle of the fifteenth century there had been a considerable increase in the production of silver from german, bohemian and hungarian mines. although this { } increase was much more than is usually allowed for--equalling, in the opinion of one scholar, the produce of american mines until nearly the middle of the sixteenth century--it was only enough to meet the expanding demands of commerce. before america entered the market, there was also a considerable import of gold from asia and africa. the tide of mexican treasure began to flood spain about , but did not reach the other countries in large quantities until about . when we consider the general impression concerning the increase of the currency immediately following the pillage of the aztecs and incas, the following statistics of the english mint are instructive, if they are not enigmatical. during the first fourteen years of henry viii ( - ) the average amount of gold minted in england was , troy pounds per annum, and of silver , troy pounds. but in the years - , before the great debasement of the currency had taken place, the amount of gold coined fell to , troy pounds per annum, and that of silver rose only to , troy pounds. as each pound of gold was at that time worth as much as eleven pounds of silver, this means that the actual amount of new money put into circulation each year in the latter period was less than a third of that minted in the earlier years. the figures also indicate the growing cheapness of silver, stimulating its import, while the import of gold was greatly restricted, according to gresham's law that cheap money drives out dear. [sidenote: estimates of gold and silver products] the spoil of mexico and peru has frequently been over-estimated, by none more extravagantly than by the conquistadores and their contemporaries. but the estimates of modern scholars vary enormously. lexis believes that the total amount of gold produced by europe and america from to (the greater part, of course, by america) amounted to $ , , . { } f. de laiglesio, on the other hand, thinks that not more than $ , , was mined in america before . the most careful estimate, that made by professor haring, arrives at the following results, [sidenote: haring's estimate] the amounts being given in pesos each worth very nearly the same as our dollar. mexican production: - - gold . . . . . . . . . . . . , , , silver . . . . . . . . . . . , , , , for peru the proportions of gold and silver cannot be separated, but the totals taken together from - amounted to probably , , pesos. other small sums came from other parts of the new world, and the final total for production of gold _and_ silver in america until is given at , , pesos. this is a reduction to per cent. of the estimate of lexis. assuming that the same correction must be made on all of the estimates given by lexis we have the following figures for the world's production of precious metals in kilogrammes and in dollars:[ ] gold silver average per annum average per annum in pesos or dollars of in kilos in dollars kilos grammes - . . . , , , , , - . . . , , , , , - . . . , , , , , - . . . , , , , , - . . . , , , , , { } combining these figures we see that the production of gold was pretty steady throughout the century, making a total output of about $ , , . the production of silver, however, greatly increased after . from the beginning of the century to that year it amounted to $ , , ; from to inclusive it increased to $ , , , making a total output for the century of $ , , . of course these figures only roughly approximate the truth; nevertheless they give a correct idea of the general processes at work. even for the first half of the century the production of the precious metals was far in excess of anything that had preceded, and this output, large as it was, was nearly tripled in the last half of the century. these figures, however, are extremely modest compared with those of recent times, when more gold is mined in a year than was then mined in a century. the total amount mined in was $ , , ; in $ , , ; for the period to inclusive the total amount mined was $ , , , . [ ] see the photograph in my _life and letters of luther_, p. . [ ] no valid comparison can be made for the years after , for in most nations paper currencies have ousted gold. [ ] these figures are based on those of sommerlad in the _handwörter-buch der staatswissenschaften_, s.v. "preis," taken from wiebe, who based on lexis. figures quite similar to those of sommerlad are given by c. f. bastable in the _encyclopaedia britannica_, s.v. "money." i have incorporated haring's corrections. section . institutions [sidenote: the monarchies] for a variety of reasons the sixteenth century was as monarchical in mind as the twentieth century is democratic. immemorial prescription then had a vigor since lost, and monarchy descended from classical and biblical antiquity when kings were hedged with a genuine divinity. the study of roman law, with its absolutist maxims, aided in the formation of royalist sentiment. the court as the center of fashion attracted a brilliant society, while the small man satisfied his cravings for gentility by devouring the court gossip that even then clogged the presses. it is probable that one reason why the throne became so popular was that it was, next to the church, the best advertised { } article in the world. but underlying these sentimental reasons for loyalty there was a basis of solid utility, predisposing men to support the scepter as the one power strong enough to overawe the nobles. one tyrant was better than many; one lion could do less harm than a pack of wolves and hyaenas. in the greater states men felt perfectly helpless without a king to rule the anarchical chaos into which society would have dissolved without him. when the spanish communes rebelled against charles v they triumphed in the field, but their attempt simply collapsed in face of their utter inability to solve the problem of government without a royal governor. they were as helpless as bees without a queen. indeed, so strong was their instinct to get a royal head that they tried to preserve themselves by kidnapping charles's mother, poor, mad joanna, to fill the political vacuum that they had made. so in the civil wars in france; notwithstanding the more promising materials for the formation of a republic in that country, all parties were, in fact, headed by claimants to the throne. [sidenote: councils of state] next to the king came the council of state, composed of princes of the blood, cardinals, nobles and some officers and secretaries of state, not always of noble blood but frequently, especially in the cases of the most powerful of them, scions of the middle class. what proportion of the executive power was wielded by the council depended on the personal character of the monarch. henry viii was always master; elizabeth was more guided than guiding; the councils of the valois and hapsburgs profited by the preoccupation or the stupidity of their masters to usurp the royal power for themselves. in public opinion the council occupied a great place, similar to that of an english cabinet today. the first anglican prayerbook { } contains petitions for the council, though it did not occur to the people to pray for parliament until the next century. the countries were governed no longer by the nobles as such but by officials appointed by the crown. it is an indication of the growing nationalization of policy that the sixteenth century saw the first establishment of permanent diplomatic agents. the first ambassadors, selected largely from a panel of bishops, magistrates, judges and scholars, were expected to function not only as envoys but also as spies. under them was a host of secret agents expected to do underhand work and to take the responsibility for it themselves so that, if found out, they could be repudiated. [sidenote: parliaments] very powerful was the national popular assembly: the parliament, the diet, the states general, or the cortes. its functions, prescriptive and undefined, were commonly understood to include the granting of taxes. the assent of the body was also required, to a varying degree, for the sanction of other laws. but the real power of the people's representatives lay in the fact that they were the chief organ for the expression of that public opinion which in all countries and at all times it is unsafe for governments to disregard. sitting in two or more chambers to represent the several estates or sometimes--as in the german diet--subdivisions of these estates, the representatives were composed of members of the privileged orders, the clergy and nobility, and of the elected representatives of the city aristocracies. the majority of the population, the poor, were unrepresented. that this class had as great a stake in the commonwealth as any other, and that they had a class consciousness capable of demanding reforms and of taking energetic measures to secure them, is shown by a number of rebellions of the proletariat, and yet it is not unfair to them, or { } disdainful, to say that on most matters they were too uninstructed, too powerless and too mute to contribute much to that body of sentiment called public opinion, one condition of which seems to be that to exist it must find expression. [sidenote: influence of the estates general] the estates general, by whatever name they were called, supplemented in france by provincial bodies called parlements partaking of the nature of high courts of justice, and in germany by the local diets (landtag) of the larger states, exercised a very real and in some cases a decisive influence on public policy. the monarch of half the world dared not openly defy the cortes of aragon or of castile; the imperious tudors diligently labored to get parliamentary sanction for their tyrannical acts, and, on the few occasions when they could not do so, hastened to abandon as gracefully as possible their previous intentions. in germany the power of the diet was not limited by the emperor, but by the local governments, though even so it was considerable. when a diet, under skilful manipulation or by unscrupulous trickery, was induced by the executive to pass an unpopular measure, like the edict of worms, the law became a dead letter. in some other instances, notably in its long campaign against monopolies, even when it expressed the popular voice the diet failed because the emperor was supported by the wealthy capitalists. only recently it has been revealed how the fuggers of augsburg and their allies endeavored to manipulate or to frustrate its work in the matter of government regulation of industry and commerce. [sidenote: public finance] the finances of most countries were managed corruptly and unwisely. the taxes were numerous and complicated and bore most heavily on the poor. from ordinary taxes in most countries the privileged orders were exempt, though they were forced to contribute { } special sums levied by themselves. the general property tax (taille) in france yielded , , livres tournois in and , , in . the taxes were farmed; that is, the right of collecting them was sold at auction, with the natural result that they were put into the hands of extortioners who made vast fortunes by oppressing the people. revenues of the royal domain, excises on salt and other articles, import and export duties, and the sale of offices and monopolies, supplemented the direct taxes. the system of taxation varied in each country. thus in spain the per cent. tax on the price of an article every time it was sold and the royalty on precious metals-- per cent. after --proved important sources of revenue. rome drove a lucrative trade in spiritual wares. everywhere, fines for transgressions of the law figured more largely as a source of revenue than they do nowadays. [sidenote: wasteful expenditures] expenditures were both more wasteful and more niggardly than they are today. though the service of the public debt was trifling compared with modern standards, and though the administration of justice was not expensive because of the fee system, the army and navy cost a good deal, partly because they were composed largely of well paid mercenaries. the personal extravagances of the court were among the heaviest burdens borne by the people. the kings built palaces: they wallowed in cloth of gold; they collected objects of art; they squandered fortunes on mistresses and minions; they made constant progresses with a retinue of thousands of servants and horses. the two greatest states, france and spain, both went into bankruptcy in . [sidenote: public order] the great task of government, that of keeping public order, protecting life and property and punishing the criminal, was approached by our forbears with more gusto than success. the laws were terrible, but they { } were unequally executed. in england among capital crimes were the following: murder, arson, escape from prison, hunting by night with painted faces or visors, embezzling property worth more than shillings, carrying horses or mares into scotland, conjuring, practising witchcraft, removing landmarks, desertion from the army, counterfeiting or mutilating coins, cattle-lifting, house-breaking, picking of pockets. all these were punished by hanging, but crimes of special heinousness, such as poisoning, were visited with burning or boiling to death. the numerous laws against treason and heresy have already been described. lesser punishments included flogging, pillory, branding, the stocks, clipping ears, piercing tongues, and imprisonment in dungeons made purposely as horrible as possible, dark, noisome dens without furniture or conveniences, often too small for a man to stand upright or to lie at full length. [sidenote: number of executions] with such laws it is not surprising that , men were hanged under henry viii, an average of nearly , a year. the number at present, when the population of england and wales has swollen to tenfold of what it was then, is negligible. only nine men were hanged in the united kingdom in the years - ; about , are now on the average annually convicted of felony. if anything, the punishments were harsher on the continent than in britain. the only refuge of the criminal was the greed of his judges. at rome it was easy and regular to pay a price for every crime, and at other places bribery was more or less prevalent. [sidenote: cruel trial methods] the methods of trying criminals were as cruel as their punishments. on the continent the presumption was held to be against the accused, and the rack and its ghastly retinue of instruments of pain were freely used to procure confession. calvin's hard saying that when men felt the pain they spoke the truth merely { } expressed the current delusion, for legislators and judges, their hearts hardened in part by the example of the church, concurred in his opinion. the exceptional protest of montaigne deserves to be quoted for its humanity: "all that exceeds simple death is absolute cruelty, nor can our laws expect that he whom the fear of decapitation or hanging will not restrain should be awed by imagining the horrors of a slow fire, burning pincers or breaking on the wheel." the spirit of the english law was against the use of torture, which, however, made progress, especially in state trials, under the tudors. a man who refused to plead in an english court was subjected to the _peine forte et dure_, which consisted in piling weights on his chest until he either spoke or was crushed to death. to enforce the laws there was a constabulary in the country, supplemented by the regular army, and a police force in the cities. that of paris consisted of archers, among them twenty-four mounted men. the inefficiency of some of the english officers is amusingly caricatured in the persons of dogberry and verges who, when they saw a thief, concluded that he was no honest man and the less they had to meddle or make with him the more for their honesty. [sidenote: blue laws] if, in all that has just been said, it is evident that the legislation of that period and of our own had the same conception of the function of government and only differed in method and efficiency, there was one very large class of laws spread upon the statute-books of medieval europe that has almost vanished now. a paternal statesmanship sought to regulate the private lives of a citizen in every respect: the fashion of his clothes, the number of courses at his meals, how many guests he might have at wedding, dinner or dance, how long he should be permitted to haunt the tavern, and how much he should drink, how he { } should spend sunday, how he should become engaged, how dance, how part his hair and with how thick a stick he should be indulged in the luxury of beating his wife. the "blue laws," as such regulations on their moral side came to be called, were no protestant innovation. the lutherans hardly made any change whatever in this respect, but calvin did give a new and biting intensity to the medieval spirit. his followers, the puritans, in the next century, almost succeeded in reducing the staple of a christian man's legitimate recreation to "seasonable meditation and prayer." but the idea originated long before the evolution of "the non-conformist conscience." the fundamental cause of all this legislation was sheer conservatism. [sidenote: spirit of conservatism] primitive men and savages have so strong a feeling of the sanction of custom that they have, as bagehot expresses it, fairly screwed themselves down by their unreasoning demands for conformity. a good deal of this spirit has survived throughout history and far more of it, naturally, was found four centuries ago than at present, when reason has proved a solvent for so many social institutions. there are a good many laws of the period under survey--such as that of nuremberg against citizens parting their hair--for which no discoverable basis can be found save the idea that new-fangled fashions should not be allowed. economic reasons also played their part in the regulation of the habits of the people. thus a law of edward vi, after a preamble setting forth that divers kinds of food are indifferent before god, nevertheless commands all men to eat fish as heretofore on fast days, not as a religious duty but to encourage fishermen, give them a livelihood and thus train men for the navy. a third very strong motive in the mind of the { } sixteenth-century statesmen, was that of differentiating the classes of citizens. the blue laws, if they may be so called in this case, were secretions of the blue blood. to make the vulgar know their places it was essential to make them dress according to their rank. the intention of an act for the reformation of excess in apparel, [sidenote: apparel according to rank] passed by the english parliament in , was stated to be, the necessary repressing and avoiding and expelling of the excess daily more used in the sumptuous and costly apparel and array accustomably worn in this realm, whereof hath ensued and daily do chance such sundry high and notorious detriments of the common weal, the subversion of good and politic order in knowledge and distinction of people according to their estates, pre-eminences, dignities and degrees to the utter impoverishment and undoing of many inexpert and light persons inclined to pride, mother of all vices. the tenor of the act prescribes the garb appropriate to the royal family, to nobles of different degree, to citizens according to their income, to servants and husbandmen, to the clergy, doctors of divinity, soldiers, lawyers and players. such laws were common in all countries. a scotch act provides "that it be lauchful to na wemen to weir [clothes] abone [above] their estait except howries." this law was not only "apprevit" by king james vi, but endorsed with his own royal hand, "this acte is verray gude." excessive fare at feasts was provided against for similar reasons and with almost equal frequency. by an english proclamation [sidenote: ] the number of dishes served was to be regulated according to the rank of the highest person present. thus, if a cardinal was guest or host, there might be nine courses, if a lord of parliament six, for a citizen with an income of five hundred pounds a year, three. elsewhere the number of guests at all { } ordinary functions as well as the number and price of gifts at weddings, christenings and like occasions, was prescribed. [sidenote: ] games of chance were frequently forbidden. francis i ordered a lieutenant with twenty archers to visit taverns and gaming houses and arrest all players of cards, dice and other unlawful games. this did not prevent the establishment of a public lottery, [sidenote: ] a practice justified by alleging the examples of italian cities in raising revenue by this means. henry iii forbade all games of chance "to minors and other debauched persons," [sidenote: ] and this was followed six years later by a crushing impost on cards and dice, interesting as one of the first attempts to suppress the instruments of vice through the taxing power. merry england also had many laws forbidding "tennis, bowles, dicing and cards," the object being to encourage the practice of archery. tippling was the subject of occasional animadversion by the various governments, though there seemed to be little sentiment against it until the opening of the following century. the regulation of the number of taverns and of the amount of wine that might be kept in a gentleman's cellar, as prescribed in an english law, [sidenote: ] mentions not the moral but the economic aspect of drinking. the purchase of french wines was said to drain england of money. though the theater also did not suffer much until the time of cromwell, plays were forbidden in the precincts of the city of london. the book of discipline in scotland forbade attendance at theaters. [sidenote: ] calvin thoroughly disapproved of them, and even luther considered them "fools' work" and at times dangerous. commendable efforts to suppress the practice of duelling were led by the catholic church. clement { } vii forbade it in a bull, [sidenote: ] confirmed by a decree of council of trent. [sidenote: ] an extraordinarily worded french proclamation of forbade "all gentlemen and others to give each other the lie and, if they do give each other the lie, to fight a duel about it." other governments took the matter up very sluggishly. scotland forbade "the great liberty that sundry persons take in provoking each other to singular combats upon sudden and frivol occasions," without license from his majesty. two matters on which the puritans felt very keenly, [sidenote: ] blasphemy and sabbath-breaking, were but scantily looked after in the century of the reformation. scotland forbade "grievous and abominable oaths, swearing, execrations and blasphemation," and somewhat similar laws can be found in other countries. scotland was also a pioneer in forbidding on the sabbath all work, "gaming, playing, passing to taverns and ale-houses and wilful remaining away from the parish kirk in time of sermon." [sidenote: mail] government has other functions than the enforcement of the civil and criminal law. almost contemporary with the opening of the century was the establishment of post offices for the forwarding of letters. after maximilian had made a start in the netherlands other countries were not slow to follow his example. though under special government supervision at first these letter-carriers were private men. [sidenote: sanitation] in the middle ages there had been efforts to safeguard public sanitation. the sixteenth century did not greatly improve on them. thus, geneva passed a law that garbage and other refuse should not be allowed to lie in the streets for more than three days in summer or eight days in winter. in extreme cases quarantine was adopted as a precaution against epidemics. { } [sidenote: war] it is the most heart-breaking or the most absurd fact in human history, according as the elements involved are focused in a humane or in a cynical light, that the chief energies of government as well as the most zealous forces of peoples, have been dedicated since civilization began to the practice of wholesale homicide. as we look back from the experience of the great war to the conflicts of other times, they seem to our jaded imaginations almost as childish as they were vicious. in the sixteenth century, far more than in the nineteenth, the nations boiled and bubbled with spleen and jealousy, hurled thrasonical threats and hyperbolic boasts in each other's teeth, breathing out mutual extermination with no compunctious visitings of nature to stay their hungry swords--but when they came to blows they had not the power of boys. the great nations were always fighting but never fought to a finish. in the whole century no national capital west of hungary, save rome and edinburgh, was captured by an enemy. the real harm was not done on the battlefield, where the carnage was incredibly small, but in the raids and looting of town and country by the professional assassins who filled the ranks of the hireling troops. then, indeed, cities were burned, wealth was plundered and destroyed, men were subjected to nameless tortures and women to indescribable outrages, and children were tossed on pikes. nor did war seem then to shock the public conscience, as it has at last succeeded in doing. the people saw nothing but dazzling glory in the slaughter of foemen on the stricken field, in the fanfare of the trumpets and the thunder of the captains and the shouting. soldiers, said luther, founding his opinion on the canon law, might be in a state of grace, for war was as necessary as eating, drinking or any other business. statesmen like machiavelli and bacon were keen for the largest armies { } possible, as the mainstay of a nation's power. only erasmus was a clear-sighted pacifist, always declaiming against war and once asserting that he agreed with cicero in thinking the most unjust peace preferable to the justest war. elsewhere he admitted that wars of self-defence were necessary. [sidenote: arms] fire-arms had not fully established their ascendancy in the period of frundsberg, or even of alva. as late as an english soldier lamented that his countrymen neglected the bow for the gun. halberdiers with pikes were the core of the army. artillery sometimes inflicted very little damage, as at flodden, sometimes considerable, as at marignano, where, with the french cavalry, it struck down the till then almost invincible swiss infantry. in battle arquebusiers and musketeers were interspersed with cross-bowmen. cannon of a large type gave way to smaller field-guns; even the idea of the machine-gun emerged in the fifteenth century. the name of them, "organs," was taken from their appearance with numerous barrels from which as many as fifty bullets could be discharged at a time. cannon were transported to the field on carts. rifles were invented by a german in , but not much used. pistols were first manufactured at pistoia--whence the name--about . bombs were first used in . the arts of fortification and of siege were improved together, many ingenious devices being called into being by the technically difficult war of the spaniards against the dutch. tactics were not so perfect as they afterwards became and of strategy there was no consistent theory. machiavelli, who wrote on the subject, based his ideas on the practice of rome and therefore despised fire-arms and preferred infantry to cavalry. discipline was severe, and needed to be, notwithstanding which there were sporadic and often very annoying { } mutinies. punishments were terrible, as in civil life. blasphemy, cards, dicing, duelling and women were forbidden in most regular armies, but in time of war the soldiers were allowed an incredible license in pillaging and in foraging. rings and other decorations were given as rewards of valor. uniforms began first to be introduced in england by henry viii. [sidenote: personnel of the armies] the personnel of the armies was extremely bad. not counting the small number of criminals who were allowed to expiate their misdeeds by military service, the rank and file consisted of mercenaries who only too rapidly became criminals under the tutelage of mars. there were a few conscripts, but no universal training such as machiavelli recommended. the officers were nobles or gentlemen who served for the prestige and glory of the profession of arms, as well as for the good pay. [sidenote: size of armies compared] but the most striking difference between armies then and now is not in their armament nor in their quality but in the size. great battles were fought and whole campaigns decided with twenty or thirty thousand troops. the french standing army was fixed by the ordinance of at seven legions of six thousand men each, besides which were the mercenaries, the whole amounting to a maximum, under francis i, of about , men. the english official figures about gave the army , foot soldiers and horse, but these figures were grossly exaggerated. in fact only , men were serviceable at the crisis of england's war with spain. other armies were proportionately small. the janizaries, whose intervention often decided battles, numbered in only , . they were perhaps the best troops in europe, as the turkish artillery was the most powerful known. what all these figures show, in short, is that the phenomenon of nations with every man physically fit in { } the army, engaging in a death grapple until one goes down in complete exhaustion, is a modern development. [sidenote: sea power] the influence of sea power upon history has become proverbial, if, indeed, it has not been overestimated since admiral mahan first wrote. it may be pointed out that this influence is far from a constant factor. sea power had a considerable importance in the wars of greece and of rome, but in the middle ages it became negligible. only with the opening of the seven seas to navigation was the command of the waves found to secure the avenues to wealth and colonial expansion. in portugal, spain, and england, "the blue water school" of mariners speedily created navies whose strife was apparently more decisive for the future of history than were the battles of armies on land. when the trade routes of the atlantic superseded those of the mediterranean in importance, naturally methods of navigation changed, and this involved a revolution in naval warfare greater than that caused by steam or by the submarine. from the time that helen's beauty launched a thousand ships until the battle of lepanto, the oar had been the chief instrument of locomotion, though supplemented, even from homeric times, by the sail. naval battles were like those on land; the enemy keels approached and the soldiers on each strove to board and master the other's crew. the only distinctly naval tactic was that of "ramming," as it was called in a once vivid metaphor. but the wild winds and boisterous waves of the atlantic broke the oar in the galley-slave's hand and the muscles in his back. once again man harnessed the hostile forces of nature; the free breezes were broken to the yoke and new types of sailing ships were driven at racing speed across the broad back of the sea. swift, yare vessels were built, at first smaller than the { } old galleons but infinitely more manageable. and the new boats, armed with thunder as they were clad with wings, no longer sought to sink or capture enemies at close quarters, but hurled destruction from afar. heavy guns took the place of small weapons and of armed prow. it was england's genius for the sea that enabled her to master the new conditions first and most completely and that placed the trident in her hands so firmly that no enemy has ever been able to wrest it from her. henry viii paid great attention to the navy. he had fifty-three vessels with an aggregate of , tons, an average of tons each, carrying soldiers, sailors and guns. under elizabeth the number of vessels had sunk to , but the tonnage had risen to , , and the crews numbered seamen, gunners and soldiers. the largest ships of the tudor navy were of tons; the flagship of the spanish armada was tons, carrying guns and men. how tiny are these figures! a single cruiser of today has a larger tonnage than the whole of elizabeth's fleet; a large submarine is greater than the monsters of philip. section . private life and manners of all the forces making for equality among men probably the education of the masses by means of cheap books and papers has been the strongest. but this force has been slow to ripen; at the close of the middle ages the common man was still helpless. the old privileged orders were indeed weakened and despoiled of part of their prerogatives, but it was chiefly by the rise of a new aristocracy, that of wealth. [sidenote: nobility] the decay of feudalism and of ecclesiastical privilege took the form of a changed and not of an abolished position for peer and priest. they were not cashiered, { } but they were retained on cheaper terms. the feudal baron had been a petty king; his descendant had the option of becoming either a highwayman or a courtier. as the former alternative became less and less rewarding, the greater part of the old nobles abandoned their pretensions to independence and found a congenial sphere as satellities of a monarch, "le roi soleil," as a typical king was aptly called, whose beams they reflected and around whom they circled. as titles of nobility began now to be quite commonly given to men of wealth and also to politicians, the old blood was renewed at the expense of the ancient pride. not, indeed, that the latter showed any signs of diminishing. the arrogance of the noble was past all toleration. men of rank treated the common citizens like dirt beneath their feet, and even regarded artists and other geniuses as menials. alphonso, duke of ferrara, wrote to raphael in terms that no king would now use to a photographer, calling him a liar and chiding him for disrespect to his superior. the same duke required ariosto to prostitute his genius by writing an apology for a fratricide committed by his grace. the duke of mayenne poniarded one of his most devoted followers for having aspired to the hand of the duke's widowed daughter-in-law. so difficult was it to conceive of a "gentleman" without gentle blood that castiglione, the arbiter of manners, lays down as the first prerequisite to a perfect courtier that he shall be of high birth. and of course those who had not this advantage pretended to it. an italian in london noticed in that all gentlemen without other title insisted on being called "mister." [sidenote: professions] one sign of the break-up of the old medieval castes was the new classification of men by calling, or profession. it is true that two of the professions, the { } higher offices in army and church, became apanages of the nobility, and the other liberal vocations were almost as completely monopolized by the children of the moneyed middle class; nevertheless it is significant that there were new roads by which men might rise. no class has profited more by the evolution of ideas than has the intelligentsia. from a subordinate, semi-menial position, lawyers, physicians, educators and journalists, not to mention artists and writers, have become the leading, almost the ruling, body of our western democracies. [sidenote: clergy] half way between a medieval estate and a modern calling stood the clergy. in catholic countries they remained very numerous; there were episcopal or archiepiscopal sees in france; there were , parish priests, with an equal number of secular clergy in subordinate positions, , canons, , friars, jesuits (in ), , monks and , nuns. though there were doubtless many worthy men among them, it cannot honestly be said that the average were fitted either morally or intellectually for their positions. grossly ignorant of the meaning of the latin in which they recited their masses and of the main articles of their faith, many priests made up for these defects by proficiency in a variety of superstitious charms. the public was accustomed to see nuns dancing at bridals and priests haunting taverns and worse resorts. some attempts, serious and partially successful, at reform, have been already described. profane and amatory plays were forbidden in nunneries, bullfights were banished from the vatican and the dangers of the confessional were diminished by the invention of the closed box in which the priest should sit and hear his penitent through a small aperture instead of having her kneeling at his knees. so depraved was public opinion on the subject of the confession that a { } prolonged controversy took place in spain as to whether minor acts of impurity perpetrated by the priest while confessing women were permissible or not. [sidenote: conditions of the protestant clergy] neither was the average protestant clergyman a shining and a burning light. so little was the calling regarded that it was hard to fill it. at one time a third of the parishes of england were said to lack incumbents. the stipends were wretched; the social position obscure. the wives of the new clergy had an especially hard lot, being regarded by the people as little better than concubines, and by parliament called "necessary evils." the english government had to issue injunctions in stating that because of the offence that has come from the type of women commonly selected as helpmates by parsons, no manner of priest or deacon should presume to marry without consent of the bishop, of the girl's parents, "or of her master or mistress where she serveth." many clergymen, nevertheless, afterwards married domestics. very little was done to secure a properly trained ministry. less than half of the clergymen ordained at wittenberg from - were university men; the majority were drapers, tailors and cobblers, "common idiots and laymen" as they were called--though the word "idiot" did not have quite the same disparaging sense that it has now. nor were the reverend gentlemen of unusually high character. as nothing was demanded of them but purity of doctrine, purity of life sank into the background. it is really amazing to see how an acquaintance of luther's succeeded in getting one church after he had been dismissed from another on well-founded charges of seduction, and how he was thereafter convicted of rape. this was perhaps an extreme case, but that the majority of clergymen were morally unworthy is the { } melancholy conviction borne in by contemporary records. [sidenote: character of sermons] sermons were long, doctrinal and political. cranmer advised latimer not to preach more than an hour and a half lest the king grow weary. how the popular preacher--in this case a catholic--appealed to his audience, is worth quoting from a sermon delivered at landau in . the lutherans [began the reverend gentleman] are opposed to the worship of mary and the saints. now, my friends, be good enough to listen to me. the soul of a man who had died got to the door of heaven and peter shut it in his face. luckily, the mother of god was taking a stroll outside with her sweet son. the deceased addresses her and reminds her of the paters and aves he has recited in her glory and the candles he has burnt before her images. thereupon mary says to jesus: "it's the honest truth, my son." the lord, however, objected and addressed the suppliant: "hast thou never heard that i am the way and the door to life everlasting?" he asks. "if thou art the door, i am the window," retorted mary, taking the "soul" by the hair and flinging it through the open casement. and now i ask you whether it is not the same whether you enter paradise by the door or by the window? there was a naïve familiarity with sacred things in our ancestors that cannot be imitated. who would now name a ship "jesus," as hawkins's buccaneering slaver was named? what serious clergyman would now compare three of his friends to the father, the son and the holy ghost, as did luther? the reformer also wrote a satire on the calling of a council, in the form of a letter from the holy ghost signed by gabriel as notary and witnessed by michael the provost of paradise and raphael, god's court physician. at another time he made a lampoon on the collection of { } relics made by his enemy the archbishop of mayence, stating that they contained such things as "a fair piece of moses' left horn, a whole pound of the wind that blew for elijah in the cave on mount horeb and two feathers and an egg of the holy ghost" as a dove. all this, of course, not in ribald profanity, but in works intended for edification. . . . [sidenote: the city] though beautiful, the city of our ancestors was far from admirable in other ways. filth was hidden under its comely garments, so that it resembled a cossack prince--all ermine and vermin. its narrow streets, huddled between strong walls, were over-run with pigs and chickens and filled with refuse. they were often ill-paved, flooded with mud and slush in winter. moreover they were dark and dangerous at night, infested with princes and young nobles on a spree and with other criminals. [sidenote: the house] like the exterior, the interior of the house of a substantial citizen was more pretty than clean or sweet smelling. the high wainscoting and the furniture, in various styles, but frequently resembling what is now known as "mission," was lovely, as were the ornaments--tapestries, clocks, pictures and flowers. but the place of carpets was supplied by rushes renewed from time to time without disturbing the underlying mass of rubbish beneath. windows were fewer than they are now, and fires still fewer. sometimes there was an open hearth, sometimes a huge tile stove. most houses had only one or two rooms heated, sometimes, as in the case of the augustinian friary at wittenberg, only the bathroom, but usually also the living room. [sidenote: dress] the dress of the people was far more various and picturesque than nowadays. both sexes dressed in gaudy colors and delighted in strange fashions, so that, { } is roger ascham said, "he thought himself most brave that was most monstrous in misorder." for women the fashion of decolleté was just coming in, as so many fashions do, from the demi-monde. to catharine de' medici is attributed the invention of the corset, an atrocity to be excused only by her own urgent need of one. [sidenote: food] the day began at five in summer and at seven in winter. a heavy breakfast was followed by a heavier dinner at ten, and supper at five, and there were between times two or three other tiffins or "drinkings." the staple food was meat and cereal; very few of our vegetables were known, though some were just beginning to be cultivated. [sidenote: - ] the most valuable article of food introduced from the new world was the potato. another importation that did not become thoroughly acclimatized in europe was the turkey. even now they are rare, but there are several interesting allusions to them in the literature of that time, one of the year in luther's table talk. poultry of other sorts was common, as were eggs, game and fish. the cooking relied for its highest effects on sugar and spices. the ordinary fruits--apples, cherries and oranges--furnished a wholesome and pleasing variety to the table. knives and spoons were used in eating, but forks were unknown, at least in northern europe. [sidenote: drink] all the victuals were washed down with copious potations. a water-drinker, like sir thomas more, was the rarest of exceptions. the poor drank chiefly beer and ale; the mildest sort, known as "small beer," was recommended to the man suffering from too strong drink of the night before. wine was more prized, and there were a number of varieties. there being no champagne, burgundy was held in high esteem, as were some of the strong, sweet, spanish and portuguese { } wines. the most harmless drinks were claret and rhine wine. there were some "mixed drinks," such as sack or hippocras, in which beer or wine was sophisticated with eggs, spices and sugar. the quantities habitually drunk were large. roger ascham records that charles v drank the best he ever saw, never less than a quart at a draft. the breakfast table of an english nobleman was set out with a quart of wine and a quart of beer, liquor then taking the place of tea, coffee, chocolate and all the "soft" beverages that now furnish stimulation and sociability. [sidenote: tobacco, ] "in these times," wrote harrison, "the taking-in of the smoke of an indian herb called 'tobaco' by an instrument formed like a little ladle . . . is greatly taken up and used in england against rewmes [colds] and some other diseases." like other drugs, tobacco soon came to be used as a narcotic for its own sake, and was presently celebrated as "divine tobacco" and "our holy herb nicotian" by the poets. what, indeed, are smoking, drinking, and other wooings of pure sensation at the sacrifice of power and reason, but a sort of pragmatized poetry? some ages, and those the most poetical, like that of pericles and that of rabelais, have deified intoxication and sensuality; others, markedly our own, have preferred the accumulation of wealth and knowledge to sensual indulgence. it is a psychological contrast of importance. could we be suddenly transported on mr. wells's time machine four hundred years back we should be less struck by what our ancestors had than by what they lacked. quills took the place of fountain pens, pencils, typewriters and dictaphones. not only was postage dearer but there were no telephones or telegrams to supplement it. the world's news of yesterday, which we imbibe with our morning cup, then sifted down slowly through various media of { } communication, mostly oral. it was two months after the battle before philip of spain knew the fate of his own armada. the houses had no steam heat, no elevators; the busy housewife was aided by no vacuum cleaner, sewing machine and gas ranges; the business man could not ride to his office, nor the farmer to his market, in automobiles. there were neither railways nor steamships to make travel rapid and luxurious. [sidenote: travel] nevertheless, journeys for purposes of piety, pleasure and business were common. pilgrimages to jerusalem, rome, compostella, loretto, walsingham and many other shrines were frequent in catholic countries. students were perpetually wandering from one university to another: merchants were on the road, and gentlemen felt the attractions of sight-seeing. the cheap and common mode of locomotion was on foot. boats on the rivers and horses on land furnished the alternatives. the roads were so poor that the horses were sometimes "almost shipwrecked." the trip from worms to rome commonly took twelve days, but could be made in seven. xavier's voyage from lisbon to goa took thirteen months. inns were good in france and england; less pleasant elsewhere. erasmus particularly abominated the german inns, where a large living and dining room would be heated to a high temperature by a stove around which travelers would dry their steaming garments. the smells caused by those operations, together with the fleas and mice with which the poorer inns were infested, made the stay anything but luxurious. any complaint was met by the retort, "if you don't like it, go somewhere else," a usually impracticable alternative. when the traveller was escorted to his bedroom, he found it very cold in winter, though the featherbeds kept him warm enough. he would see his chamber filled with other beds occupied by his travelling companions of both { } sexes, and he himself was often forced to share his bed with a stranger. the custom of the time was to take one bath a week. for this there were public bath-houses, [sidenote: baths] frequented by both sexes. a common form of entertainment was the "bath-party." [sidenote: sports] with the same insatiable gusto that they displayed in other matters the contemporaries of luther and shakespeare went in for amusements. never has the theater been more popular. many sports, like bear-baiting and bull-baiting, were cruel. hunting was also much relished, though humane men like luther and more protested against the "silly and woeful beastes' slaughter and murder." tennis was so popular that there were courts in paris alone. the game was different from the modern in that the courts were feet long, instead of feet, and the wooden balls and "bats"--as racquets are still called in england--were much harder. cards and dice were passionately played, a game called "triumph" or "trump" being the ancestor of our whist. chess was played nearly as now. young people loved dances and some older people shook their heads over them, then as now. melanchthon danced, at the age of forty-four, and luther approved of such parties, properly chaperoned, as a means of bringing young people together. on the other hand dances were regulated in many states and prohibited in others, like zurich and geneva. some of the dances were quite stately, like the minuet, others were boisterous romps, in which the girls were kissed, embraced and whirled around giddily by their partners. the scotch ambassador's comment that queen elizabeth "danced very high" gives an impression of agility that would hardly now be considered in the best taste. [sidenote: manners] the veneer of courtesy was thin. true, humanists, { } publicists and authors composed for each other eulogies that would have been hyperboles if addressed to the morning stars singing at the dawn of creation, but once a quarrel had been started among the touchy race of writers and a spouting geyser of inconceivable scurrility burst forth. no imagery was too nasty, no epithet too strong, no charge too base to bring against an opponent. the heroic examples of greek and roman invective paled before the inexhaustible resources of learned billingsgate stored in the minds of the humanists and theologians. to accuse an enemy of atheism and heresy was a matter of course; to add charges of unnatural vice or, if he were dead, stories of suicide and of the devils hovering greedily over his deathbed, was extremely common. even crowned heads exchanged similar amenities. withal, there was growing up a strong appreciation of the merits of courtesy. was not bayard, the captain in the army of francis i a "knight without fear and without reproach"? did not sir philip sidney do one of the perfect deeds of gentleness when, dying on the battle field and tortured with thirst, he passed his cup of water to a common soldier with the simple words, "thy need is greater than mine"? one of the most justly famous and most popular books of the sixteenth century was baldessare castiglione's _book of the courtier_, called by dr. johnson the best treatise on good breeding ever written. published in italian in , it was translated into spanish in , into french in , into english and latin in , and finally into german in . there have been of it more than editions. it sets forth an ideal of a prince charming, a man of noble birth, expert in games and in war, brave, modest, unaffected, witty, an elegant speaker, a good dancer, familiar with literature and accomplished in music, as well as a man of honor { } and courtesy. it is significant that this ideal appealed to the time, though it must be confessed it was rarely reached. ariosto, to whom the first book was dedicated by the author, depicts, as his ideals, knights in whom the sense of honor has completely replaced all christian virtues. they were always fighting each other about their loves, much like the bulls, lions, rams and dogs to whom the poet continually compares them. even the women were hardly safe in their company. sometimes a brief anecdote will stamp a character as no long description will do. the following are typical of the manners of our forbears: one winter morning a stately matron was ascending the steps of the church of st. gudule at brussels. they were covered with ice; she slipped and took a precipitate and involuntary seat. in the anguish of the moment, a single word, of mere obscenity, escaped her lips. when the laughing bystanders, among whom was erasmus, helped her to her feet, she beat a hasty retreat, crimson with shame. nowadays ladies do not have such a vocabulary at their tongue's end. the spanish ambassador enriquez de toledo was at rome calling on imperia de cugnatis, a lady who, though of the demi-monde, lived like a princess, cultivated letters and art, and had many poets as well as many nobles among her friends. her floors were carpeted with velvet rugs, her walls hung with golden cloth, and her tables loaded with costly bric-a-brac. the spanish courtier suddenly turned and spat copiously in the face of his lackey and then explained to the slightly startled company that he chose this objective rather than soil the splendor he saw around him. the disgusting act passed for a delicate and successful flattery. [sidenote: ] among the students at wittenberg was a certain simon lemchen, or lemnius, a lewd fellow of the baser { } sort who published two volumes of scurrilous epigrams bringing unfounded and nasty charges against luther, melanchthon and the other reformers and their wives. when he fled the city before he could be arrested, luther revenged himself partly by a catilinarian sermon, partly by composing, for circulation among his friends, some verses about lemnius in which the scurrility and obscenity of the offending youth were well over-trumped. one would be surprised at similar measures taken by a professor of divinity today. [sidenote: morals] in measuring the morals of a given epoch statistics are not applicable; or, at any rate, it is probably true that the general impression one gets of the moral tone of any period is more trustworthy than would be got from carefully compiled figures. and that one does get such an impression, and a very strong one, is undeniable. everyone has in his mind a more or less distinct idea of the ethical standards of ancient athens, of rome, of the middle ages, the renaissance, the puritan commonwealth, the restoration, the victorian age. the sixteenth century was a time when morals were perhaps not much worse than they are now, but when vice and crime were more flaunted and talked about. puritanism and prudery have nowadays done their best to conceal the corruption and indecency beneath the surface. but our ancestors had no such delicacy. the naïve frankness of the age, both when it gloried in the flesh and when it reproved sin, gives a full-blooded complexion to that time that is lacking now. the large average consumption of alcohol--a certain irritant to moral maladies--and the unequal administration of justice, with laws at once savage and corruptly dispensed, must have had bad consequences. the reformation had no permanent discernible { } effect on moral standards. accompanied as it often was with a temporary zeal for righteousness, it was too often followed by a breaking up of conventional standards and an emphasis on dogma at the expense of character, that operated badly. latimer thought that the english reformation had been followed by a wave of wickedness. luther said that when the devil of the papacy had been driven out, seven other devils entered to take its place, and that at wittenberg a man was considered quite a saint who could say that he had not broken the first commandment, but only the other nine. much of this complaint must be set down to disappointment at not reaching perfection, and over against it may be set many testimonies to the moral benefits assured by the reform. [sidenote: violence] it was an age of violence. murder was common everywhere. on the slightest provocation a man of spirit was expected to whip out a rapier or dagger and plunge it into his insulter. the murder of unfaithful wives was an especial point of honor. benvenuto cellini boasts of several assassinations and numerous assaults, and he himself got off without a scratch from the law, pope paul iii graciously protesting that "men unique in their profession, like benvenuto, were not subject to the laws." the number of unique men must have been large in the holy city, for in a citizen testified that he had seen more than a hundred bodies of persons foully done to death thrown into the tiber, and no one bothered about it. [sidenote: brigandage] brigandage stalked unabashed through the whole of europe. by the number of bandits in the papal states alone had risen to , . sixtus v took energetic means to repress them. one of his stratagems is too characteristic to omit mentioning. he had a train of mules loaded with poisoned food and then { } drove them along a road he knew to be infested by highwaymen, who, as he had calculated, actually took them and ate of the food, of which many died. other countries were perhaps less scourged by robbers, but none was free. erasmus's praise of henry viii, in , for having cleared his realm of free-booters, was premature. in the wilder parts, especially on the scotch border, they were still rife. in the armstrongs of lidderdale, just over the border, could boast that they had burned churches, besides making heavy depredations on private property. when james v took stern measures to suppress them, [sidenote: ] and instituted a college of justice for that purpose, the good law was unpopular. bands of old soldiers and new recruits wandered through france, spain and the netherlands. the worst robbers in germany were the free knights. from their picturesque castles they emerged to pillage peaceful villages and trains of merchandise going from one walled city to another. in doing so they inflicted wanton mutilations on the unfortunate merchants whom they regarded as their natural prey. even the greatest of them, like francis von sickingen, were not ashamed to "let their horses bite off travellers' purses" now and then. but it was not only the nobles who became gentlemen of the road. a well-to-do merchant of berlin, named john kohlhase, was robbed of a couple of horses by a saxon squire, and, failing to get redress in the corrupt courts, threw down the gauntlet to the whole of electoral saxony in a proclamation that he would rob, burn and take reprisals until he was given compensation for his loss. for six years [sidenote: - ] he maintained himself as a highwayman, but was finally taken and executed in brandenburg. [sidenote: fraud] fraud of all descriptions was not less rampant than force. when machiavelli reduced to a reasoned { } theory the practice of all hypocrisy and guile, the courts of europe were only too ready to listen to his advice. in fact, they carried their mutual attempts at deception to a point that was not only harmful to themselves, but ridiculous, making it a principle to violate oaths and to debase the currency of good faith in every possible way. there was also much untruth in private life. unfortunately, lying in the interests of piety was justified by luther, while the jesuits made a soul-rotting art of equivocation. [sidenote: unchastity] the standard of sexual purity was disturbed by a reaction against the asceticism of the middle ages. luther proclaimed that chastity was impossible, while the humanists gloried in the flesh. public opinion was not scandalized by prostitution; learned men occasionally debated whether fornication was a sin, and the italians now began to call a harlot a "courteous woman" [sidenote: c. ] (courtesan) as they called an assassin a "brave man" (bravo). augustine had said that harlots were remedies against worse things, and the church had not only winked at brothels, but frequently licensed them herself. bastardy was no bar to hereditary right in italy. the reformers tried to make a clean sweep of the "social evil." under luther's direction brothels were closed in the reformed cities. when this was done at strassburg the women drew up a petition, stating that they had pursued their profession not from liking but only to earn bread, and asked for honest work. serious attempts were made to give it to them, or to get them husbands. at zurich and some other cities the brothels were left open, but were put under the supervision of an officer who was to see that no married men frequented them. the reformers had a strange ally in the growing fear of venereal diseases. other countries followed germany in their war on the prostitute. in london the public houses of ill fame { } were closed in , in paris in . an edict of july , commanded all prostitutes to leave rome, but when , persons, including the women and their dependents, left the city, the loss of public revenue induced the pope to allow them to return on august of the same year. [sidenote: polygamy] one of the striking aberrations of the sixteenth century, as it seems to us, was the persistent advocacy of polygamy as, if not desirable in itself, at least preferable to divorce. divorce or annulment of marriage was not hard to obtain by people of influence, whether catholic or protestant, but it was a more difficult matter than it is in america now. in scotland there was indeed a sort of trial marriage, known as "handfasting," by which the parties might live together for a year and a day and then continue as married or separate. but, beginning with luther, many of the reformers thought polygamy less wrong than divorce, on the biblical ground that whereas the former had been practised in the old testament times and was not clearly forbidden by the new testament, divorce was prohibited save for adultery. luther advanced this thesis as early as , when it was purely theoretical, but he did not shrink from applying it on occasion. it is extraordinary what a large body of reputable opinion was prepared to tolerate polygamy, at least in exceptional cases. popes, theologians, humanists like erasmus, and philosophers like bruno, all thought a plurality of wives a natural condition. [sidenote: marriage] but all the while the instincts of the masses were sounder in this respect than the precepts of their guides. while polygamy remained a freakish and exceptional practice, the passions of the age were absorbed to a high degree by monogamous marriage. matrimony having been just restored to its proper dignity as the best estate for man, its praises were { } sounded highly. the church, indeed, remained true to her preference for celibacy, but the inquisition found much business in suppressing the then common opinion that marriage was better than virginity. to the reformers marriage was not only the necessary condition of happiness to mankind, but the typically holy estate in which god's service could best be done. from all sides paeans arose celebrating matrimony as the true remedy for sin and also as the happiest estate. the delights of wedded love are celebrated equally in luther's table talk and letters and in the poems of the italian humanist pontano. "i have always been of the opinion," writes ariosto, "that without a wife at his side no man can attain perfect goodness or live without sin." "in marriage there is one mind in two bodies," says henry cornelius agrippa, "one harmony, the same sorrows, the same joys, an identical will, common riches, poverty and honors, the same bed and the same table. . . . only a husband and wife can love each other infinitely and serve each other as long as both do live, for no love is either so vehement or so holy as theirs." the passion for marriage in itself is witnessed by the practice of widows and widowers of remarrying as soon and as often as possible. [sidenote: remarriage common] luther's friend, justus jonas, married thrice, each time with a remark to the effect that it was better to marry than to burn. the english bishop richard cox excused his second marriage, at an advanced age, by an absurd letter lamenting that he had not the gift of chastity. willibrandis rosenblatt married in succession louis keller, oecolampadius, capito and bucer, the ecclesiastical eminence of her last three husbands giving her, one would think, an almost official position. sir thomas more married a second wife just one month after his first wife's death. { } [sidenote: treatment of wives] sad to relate, the wives so necessary to men's happiness were frequently ill treated after they were won. in the sixteenth century women were still treated as minors; if married they could make no will; their husbands could beat them with impunity, for cruelty was no cause for divorce. sir thomas more's home-life is lauded by erasmus as a very paragon, because "he got more compliance from his wife by jokes and blandishments than most husbands by imperious harshness." one of these jokes, a customary one, was that his wife was neither pretty nor young; one of the "blandishments," i suppose, was an epigram by sir thomas to the effect that though a wife was a heavy burden she might be useful if she would die and leave her husband money. in utopia, he assures us, husbands chastise their wives. [sidenote: position of woman] in the position of women various currents crossed each other. the old horror of the temptress, inherited from the early church, the lofty scorn exhibited by the greek philosophers, mingled with strands of chivalry and a still newer appreciation of the real dignity of woman and of her equal powers. ariosto treated women like spoiled children; the humanists delighted to rake up the old jibes at them in musty authors; the divines were hardest of all in their judgment. "nature doth paint them forth," says john knox of women, "to be weak, frail, impatient, feeble and foolish, and experience hath declared them to be unconstant, variable, cruel and void of the spirit of council and regimen." "if women bear children until they become sick and eventually die," preaches luther, "that does no harm. let them bear children till they die of it; that is what they are for." in the question was debated at wittenberg as to whether women were human beings. the general tone was one of disparagement. an anthology might be made of the { } proverbs recommending (à la nietzsche) the whip as the best treatment for the sex. but withal there was a certain chivalry that revolted against all this brutality. castiglione champions courtesy and kindness to women on the highest and most beautiful ground, the spiritual value of woman's love. ariosto sings: no doubt they are accurst and past all grace that dare to strike a damsel in the face, or of her head to minish but a hair. certain works like t. elyot's _defence of good women_ and like cornelius agrippa's _nobility and excellence of the female sex_, witness a genuine appreciation of woman's worth. some critics have seen in the last named work a paradox, like the _praise of folly_, such as was dear to the humanists. to me it seems absolutely sincere, even when it goes so far as to proclaim that woman is as superior to man as man is to beast and to celebrate her as the last and supreme work of the creation. [sidenote: children] the family was far larger, on the average, in the sixteenth century than it is now. one can hardly think of any man in this generation with as many as a dozen children; it is possible to mention several of that time with over twenty. anthony koberger, the famous nuremberg printer had twenty-five children, eight by his first and seventeen by his second wife. albert dürer was the third of eighteen children of the same couple, of whom apparently only three reached maturity. john colet, born in , was the eldest of twenty-two brothers and sisters of whom by he was the only survivor. of course these families were exceptional, but not glaringly so. a brood of six to twelve was a very common occurrence. children were brought up harshly in many families, { } strictly in almost all. they were not expected to sit in the presence of their parents, unless asked, or to speak unless spoken to. they must needs bow and crave a blessing twice a day. lady jane grey complained that if she did not do everything as perfectly as god made the world, she was bitterly taunted and presently so nipped and pinched by her noble parents that she thought herself in hell. the rod was much resorted to. and yet there was a good deal of natural affection. few fathers have even been better to their babies than was luther, and he humanely advised others to rely as much on reward as on punishment--on the apple as on the switch--and above all not to chastise the little ones so harshly as to make them fear or hate their parents. the _patria potestas_ was supposed to extend, as it did in rome, during the adult as during the callow years. especially did public opinion insist on children marrying according to the wishes of their parents. among the nobility child-marriage was common, a mere form, of course, not at once followed by cohabitation. a betrothal was a very solemn thing, amounting to a definite contract. perfect liberty was allowed the engaged couple, by law in sweden and by custom in many other countries. all the more necessary, in the opinion of the time, to prevent youths and maidens betrothing themselves without their parents' consent. [sidenote: health] probably the standard of health is now higher than it was then, and the average longevity greater. it is true that few epidemics have ever been more fatal than the recent influenza; and on the other hand one can point to plenty of examples of sixteenth-century men who reached a crude and green old age. statistics were then few and unreliable. in the death-rate in london was . per thousand; in the years - it averaged per thousand. it has been { } calculated that this is just what the death-rate was in london in a healthy year under elizabeth, but it must be remembered that a year without some sort of epidemic was almost exceptional. [sidenote: epidemics] bubonic plague was pandemic at that time, and horribly fatal. many of the figures given--as that , people perished in moscow in , , at lyons in , and , at venice during the years - , must be gross exaggerations, but they give a vivid idea of the popular idea of the prevalent mortality. another scourge was the sweating sickness, first noticed as epidemic in and returning in , , and . tuberculosis was probably as wide-spread in the sixteenth as it is in the twentieth century, but it figured less prominently on account of worse diseases and because it was seldom recognized until the last stages. smallpox was common, unchecked as it was by vaccination, and with it were confounded a variety of zymotic diseases, such as measles, which only began to be recognized as different in the course of the sixteenth century. one disease almost characteristic of former ages, so much more prevalent was it in them, due to the more unwholesome food and drink, was the stone. venereal diseases became so prominent in the sixteenth century that it has often been thought that the syphilis was imported from america. this, however, has been denied by authorities who believe that it came down from classical antiquity, but that it was not differentiated from other scourges. the latin name variola, like the english pox, was applied indiscriminately to syphilis, small-pox, chicken-pox, etc. gonorrhea was also common. the spread of these diseases was assisted by many causes besides the prevalent moral looseness; by lack of cleanliness in public baths, for example. { } useless to go through the whole roster of the plagues. suffice it to say that whatever now torments poor mortals, from tooth-ache to cold in the head, and from rheumatism to lunacy, was known to our ancestors in aggravated forms. deleterious was the use of alcohol, the evils of which were so little understood that it was actually prescribed for many disorders of which it is a certain irritant. add to this the lack of sanitary measures, not only of disinfection but of common cleanliness, and the etiology of the phenomena is satisfactorily accounted for. [sidenote: medicine] if even now medicine as a science and an art seems backward compared with surgery, it has nevertheless made considerable advances since it began to be empirical. in the middle ages it was almost purely dogmatic; men did not ask their eyes and minds what was the nature of the human body and the effect of this or that drug on it, they asked aristotle, or hippocrates, or galen or avicenna. the chief rivalries, and they were bitter, were between the greek and the arabian schools. [sidenote: c. ] galenism finally triumphed just before the beginnings of experiment and research were made. the greatest name in the first half of the century was that of theophrastus paracelsus, [sidenote: paracelsus, - ] as arrant a quack as ever lived, but one who did something to break up the strangle-hold of tradition. he worked out his system _a priori_ from a fantastic postulate of the parallelism between man and the universe, the microcosm and the macrocosm. he held that the bible gave valuable prescriptions, as in the treatment of wounds by oil and wine. [sidenote: surgery] under the leadership of ambroise paré [sidenote: paré, - ] surgery improved rather more than medicine. without anaesthetics, indeed, operations were difficult, but a good deal was accomplished. paré first made amputation on a large scale possible by inventing a ligature for { } large arteries that effectively controlled hemorrhage. this barber's apprentice, who despised the schools and wrote in the vernacular, made other important improvements in the surgeon's technique. it is noteworthy that each discovery was treated as a trade secret to be exploited for the benefit of a few practitioners and not given freely to the good of mankind. in obstetrics paré also made discoveries that need not be detailed here. until his time it was almost universal for women to be attended in childbirth only by midwives of their own sex. indeed, so strong was the prejudice on this point that women were known to die of abdominal tumors rather than allow male physicians to examine them. the admission of men to the profession of midwife marked a considerable improvement in method. [sidenote: lunacy] the treatment of lunacy was inept. the poor patients were whipped or otherwise tormented for alluding to the subject of their monomania. our ancestors found fun in watching the antics of crazed minds, and made up parties to go to bedlams and tease the insane. indeed, some of the scenes in shakespeare's plays, in which madness is depicted, and which seem tragic to us, probably had a comic value for the groundlings before whom the plays were first produced. [sidenote: hospitals] as early as luther saw one of the hospitals at florence. he tells how beautiful they were, how clean and well served by honorable matrons tending the poor freely all day without making known their names and at night returning home. such institutions were the glory of italy, for they were sadly to seek in other lands. when they were finally established elsewhere, they were too often left to the care of ignorant and evil menials. the stories one may read of the hôtel-dieu, at paris, are fairly hair-raising. { } chapter xi the capitalistic revolution section . the rise of the power of money [sidenote: reformation and economic revolution] parallel with the reformation was taking place an economic revolution even deeper and more enduring in its consequences. both reformation and revolution were manifestations of the individualistic spirit of the age; the substitution, in the latter case, of private enterprise and competition for common effort as a method of producing wealth and of distributing it. both were prepared for long before they actually upset the existing order; both have taken several centuries to unfold their full consequences, and in each the truly decisive steps were taken in the sixteenth century. it is doubtless incorrect to see either in the reformation or in the economic revolution a direct and simple cause of the other. they interacted and to a certain extent joined forces; but to a greater degree each sought to use the other, and each has at times been credited, or blamed, with the results of the other's operations. contemporaries noticed the effects, mostly the bad effects, of the rise of capitalism, and often mistakenly attributed them to the reformation; and the new kings of commerce were only too ready to hide behind the mask of protestantism while despoiling the church. like other historical forces, while easily separable in thought, the two movements were usually inextricably interwoven in action. [sidenote: rise of capitalism] capitalism supplanted gild-production because of its fitness as a social instrument for the production and { } storing of wealth. in competition with capital the medieval communism succumbed in one line of business after another--in banking, in trade, in mining, in industry and finally in agriculture--because it was unable to produce the results that capital produced. by the vast reward that the newer system gave to individual enterprise, to technical improvement and to investment, capitalism proved the aptest tool for the creation and preservation of wealth ever devised. it is true that the manifold multiplication of riches in the last four centuries is due primarily to inventions for the exploitation of natural resources, but the capitalistic method is ideally fitted for the utilization of these new discoveries and for laying up of their increment for ultimate social use. and this is an inestimable service to any society. only a fairly rich people can afford the luxuries of beauty, knowledge, and power, that enhance the value of life and allow it to climb to ever greater heights. to balance this service, it must be taken into account that capitalism has lamentably failed justly to distribute rewards. its tendency is to intercept the greater part of the wealth it creates for the benefit of a single class, and thereby to rob the rest of the community of their due dividend. [sidenote: primary cause of the capitalistic revolution] so delicate is the adjustment of society that an apparently trivial new factor will often upset the whole equilibrium and produce the most incalculable results. thus, the primary cause of the capitalistic revolution appears to have been a purely mechanical one, the increase in the production of the precious metals. wealth could not be stored at all in the middle ages save in the form of specie; nor without it could large commerce be developed, nor large industry financed, nor was investment possible. moreover the rise of prices consequent on the increase of the precious metals gave a powerful stimulus to manufacture and a { } fillip to the merchant and to the entrepreneur such as they have rarely received before or since. it was, in short, the development of the power of money that gave rise to the money power. in the earlier middle ages there prevailed a "natural economy," or system in which payments were made chiefly in the form of services and by barter; this gave place very gradually to our modern "money economy" in which gold and silver are both the normal standards of value and the sole instruments of exchange. already in the twelfth century money was being used in the towns of western europe; not until the late fourteenth or fifteenth did it become a dominant factor in rural life. this change was not the great revolution itself, but was the indispensable prerequisite of it, and in large part its direct cause. [sidenote: money-making kings] gold and silver could now be hoarded in the form of money, and so the first step was taken in the formation of large fortunes, known to the ancient world, but almost absent in the middle ages. the first great fortunes were made by kings, by nobles with large landed estates, and by officers in government service. henry vii left a large fortune to his son. some of the popes and some of the princes of germany and italy hoarded money even when they were paying interest on a debt,--a testimony to the increasing estimate of the value of hard cash. the chief nobles were scarcely behind the kings in accumulating treasure. their vast revenues from land were much more like government imposts than like rents. thus montmorency in france gave his daughter a dowry amounting to $ , . the duke of gandia in spain owned estates peopled by , moriscos and yielding a princely revenue. vast ransoms were exacted in war, and fines, confiscation and pillage filled the coffers of the lords. after the atrocious war against the moriscos, the duke of { } lerma sold their houses on his estates for , ducats. [sidenote: officials] in the monarchies of europe the only avenue to wealth at first open to private men was the government service. offices, benefices, naval and military commands, were bought with the expectation, often justified, of making money out of them. the farmed revenues yielded immense profit to the collectors. no small fortunes were reaped by empson and dudley, the tools of henry vii, but they were far surpassed by the hoards of wolsey and of cromwell. such was the great fortune made in france by semblançay, the son of a plain merchant of tours, who turned the offices of treasurer and superintendent of finances to such good account that he bought himself large estates and baronies. fortunes on a proportionately smaller scale were made by the servants of the german princes, as by john schenitz, a minion of the archbishop elector albert of mayence. so insecure was the tenure of riches accumulated in royal or princely service that most of the men who did so, including all those mentioned in this paragraph, ended on the scaffold, save, indeed, wolsey, who would have done so had he not died while awaiting trial. it is to be noted that, though land was the principal form of wealth in the middle ages, no great fortunes were made from it at the beginning of the capitalistic era, save by the titled holders of enormous domains. the small landlords suffered at the expense of the burghers in germany, and not until these burghers turned to the country and bought up landed estates did agriculture become thoroughly profitable. [sidenote: banking] the intimate connection of government and capitalism is demonstrated by the fact that, next to officials, government concessionaires and bankers were the first to make great fortunes. at this time banking was { } closely dependent on public loans and was therefore the first great business to be established on the capitalistic basis. the first "trust" was the money trust. though banking had been well started in the middle ages, it was still in an imperfect state of development. jews and goldsmiths made a considerable number of commercial loans but these loans were always regarded by the borrower as temporary expedients; the habitual conduct of business on borrowed capital was unknown. but, just as the new output of the german mines was increasing the supply of precious metals, the greater costliness of war, due to the substitution of mercenaries and fire-arms for feudal levies equipped with bows and pikes, made the governments of europe need money more than ever before. they made great loans at home and abroad, and it was the interest on these that expanded the banking business until it became an international power. well before the sixteenth century men had made a fine art of receiving deposits, loaning capital and performing other financial operations, but it was not until the late fifteenth century that the bankers reaped the full reward of their skill and of the new opportunities. the three balls in the arms of the medici testify to the heights to which a profession, once humble, might raise its experts. in italy the science of accounting, [sidenote: science of accounting] or of double-entry bookkeeping, originated; it was slowly adopted in other lands. the first english work on the subject is that by john gouge in , entitled: "a profitable treatyce called the instrument or boke to learn to know the good order of the keeping of the famouse reconnynge, called in latin, dare et habere, and, in englyshe, debitor and creditor." it was in italy that modern technique of clearing bills was developed; the simple system by which balances are settled not by full payment of each debt in money, but by comparing { } the paper certificates of indebtedness. this immense saving, as developed by the genoese, was soon extended from their own city to the whole of northern italy, so that the bankers would meet several times a year in the first international clearing-house. from genoa the same system was then applied to distant cities, with great profit, even more in security than in saving of capital. if bills payable at antwerp were bought at genoa, they were paid at antwerp by selling bills on lisbon, perhaps, and these in turn by selling exchange on genoa. these processes seem simple and are now universal, but how vastly they facilitated the development of banking and business when first discovered can hardly be over-estimated. from the improvement of exchange the genoese soon proceeded to arbitrage, a transaction more profitable and more socially useful at that time when poor communications made the differences in prices between bills of exchange, bullion, coins, stocks and bonds in distant markets more considerable than they are now. the genoese bankers also invented the first substitutes for money in the form of circulating notes. in all this, and in other ways, they made enormous profits that soon induced others to copy them. [sidenote: great firms] though the italians invented modern banking they were eventually surpassed by the germans, if not in technique at least in the size of the firms established. the largest florentine bank in was that of thomas guadegni with a capital of , florins ($ , , ). the capital of the house of fugger at augsburg, distinct from the personal fortunes of its members, was in , , , gold gulden ($ , , ). the average annual profits of the fuggers during the years - were . per cent.; from - , . per cent.; from - , per cent.; from - , . per cent. another augsburg firm, the welsers, averaged per { } cent. for the fifteen years - . dividends were not declared annually, but a general casting up of accounts was made every few years and a new balance struck, each partner withdrawing as much as he wished, or leaving it to be credited to his account as new capital. [sidenote: risks of banking] though the fuggers and other firms soon went into large business of all sorts, they remained primarily bankers. as such they enjoyed boundless credit with the public from whom they received deposits at regular interest. the proportion of these deposits to the capital continually rose. this general tendency, together with the habit of changing the amount of capital every few years, is evident from the following table of the liabilities of the fuggers in gold gulden at several different periods: year capital deposits . . . . . . . , , , . . . . . . . , , , . . . . . . . , , , , . . . . . . . , , , , . . . . . . . , , , , a smaller augsburg firm, the haugs, had in , a capital of , florins and deposits of , . as all these deposits were subject to be withdrawn at sight, and as the firms usually kept a very small reserve of specie, it would seem that banking was subject to great risks. the unsoundness of the method was counterbalanced by the fact that most of the deposits were made by members of the banker's family, or by friends, who harbored a strong sentiment against embarrassing the bank by withdrawing at inconvenient seasons. doubtless the almost uniformly profitable career of most firms for many years concealed many dangers. the crash came finally as the result of the bankruptcy { } of the spanish and french governments. [sidenote: bankruptcy of france and spain, ] spain's repudiation of her debt was partial, taking the form of consolidation and conversion; france, however, simply stopped all payments of interest and amortization. many banks throughout europe failed, and drew down with them their creditors. the years - saw the first of these characteristically modern phenomena, international financial crises. there were hard times everywhere. other states followed the example of the french and spanish governments, england constituting the fortunate exception. recovery followed at length, however, and speculation boomed; but a second spanish state bankruptcy [sidenote: ] brought on another crisis, and there was a third, following the defeat of the armada. the failure of many of the great private companies was followed by the institution of state banks. the first to be erected was the banco di rialto in venice. [sidenote: ] the banks were the agencies for the spread of the capitalistic system to other fields. the great firms either bought up, or obtained as concessions from some government, the natural resources requisite for the production of wealth. one of the very first things seized by them were the mines. [sidenote: mining] indeed, the profitable exploitation of the german mines especially dates from their acquisition by the fuggers and other bankers late in the fifteenth century. partly by the development of new methods of refining ore, but chiefly by driving large numbers of laborers to their maximum effort, the new mine-owners increased the production of metal almost at a bound, and thereby poured untold wealth into their own coffers. the total value of metals produced in germany in amounted to $ , , per annum, and employed over , men. until the german production of silver was greater than the american, and copper was almost as valuable { } a product. notwithstanding its increased production, its value doubled between and . the shares in these great companies were, like the "fugger letters," or certificates of interest-bearing deposits in banks, assignable and were actively traded in on various bourses. each share was a certificate of partnership which then carried with it unlimited liability for the debts of the company. one of the favorite speculative issues was found in the shares of the mansfeld copper co., established in with a capital of , gulden, which was increased to , gulden in . [sidenote: commerce] whereas, in banking and in mining, capital had almost created the opportunities for its employment, in commerce it partly supplanted the older system and partly entered into new paths. in the middle ages domestic, and to some extent international, commerce was carried on by fairs adapted to bring producer and consumer together and hence reduce the functions of middleman to the narrowest limits. such was the annual fair at stourbridge; such the famous bookmart at frankfort-on-the-main, and such were the fairs in lyons, antwerp, and many other cities. only in the larger towns was a market perpetually open. foreign commerce was also carried on by companies formed on the analogy of the medieval gilds. new conditions called for fresh means of meeting them. the great change in sea-borne trade effected by the discovery of the new routes to india and america, was not so much in the quantity of goods carried as in the paths by which they traveled. the commerce of the two inland seas, the mediterranean and the baltic, relatively declined, while that of the atlantic seaboard grew by leaps and bounds. new and large companies came into existence, formed on the joint-stock principle. over them the various governments exercised a large control, giving them a semi-political character. { } [sidenote: portugal] as portugal was the first to tap the wealth of the gorgeous east, into her lap fell the stream of gold from that quarter. the secret of her windfall was the small bulk and enormous value of her cargoes. from malabar she fetched pepper and ginger, from ceylon cinnamon and pearls, from bengal opium, the only known conqueror of pain, and with it frankincense and indigo. borneo supplied camphor, amboyna nutmegs and mace, and two small islands, temote and tidor, offered cloves. these products sold for forty times as much in london or in antwerp as they cost in the orient. no wonder that wealth came in a gale of perfume to lisbon. the cost of the ship and of the voyage, averaging two years from departure to return, was $ , , and any ship might bring back a cargo worth $ , . but the risks were great. of the ships that sailed from - only returned. in the following century of about portuguese vessels engaged in the india trade nearly one-eighth were lost. even the risk of loss in sailing from lisbon to the ports of northern europe was appreciable. the king of portugal insured ships on a voyage from lisbon to antwerp for a premium of six per cent. [sidenote: spain] spain found the path towards the setting sun as golden as portugal had found the reflection of his rising beams. at her height she had a thousand merchant galleons. the chief imports were the precious metals, but they were not the only ones. cochineal, selling at $ a hundredweight in london, surpassed in value any spice from celebes. dye-wood, ebony, some drugs, nuts and a few other articles richly repaid importation. there was also a very considerable export trade. cadiz and seville sent to the indies annually , , gallons of wine, with quantities of oil, clothes and other necessities. many ships, not { } only spanish but portuguese and english, were weighted with human flesh from africa as heavily as christian with his black load of sin, and in the case of portugal, at least, the load almost sent its bearer to the city of destruction. but spanish keels made other wakes than westward. to flanders oil and wool were sent to be exchanged for manufactured wares, tapestries and books. italy asked hides and dyes in return for her brocades, pearls and linen. the undoubtedly great extent of spanish commerce even in places where it had no monopoly, is all the more remarkable in that it was at the first burdened by what in the end choked it, government regulation. cadiz had the best harbor, but seville was favored by the king; even ships allowed to unload at cadiz could do so only on condition that their cargoes be transported directly to seville. a particularly crushing tax was the alcabala, or per cent. impost on all sales. other import duties, royalties on metals, excise on food, monopolies, and petty regulations finally handicapped spain's merchants so effectually that they fell behind those of other countries in the race for supremacy. [sidenote: france] as the mariners of the iberian peninsula drooped under the shackles of unwise laws, hardy sailors sprang into their places. neither of the other latin nations, however, was able to do so. the once proud supremacy of venice and of genoa was gone; the former sank as lisbon rose and the latter, who held her own at least as a money market until , was about that time surpassed, though she was never wholly superseded, by antwerp. italy exported wheat, flax, woad and other products, but chiefly by land routes or in foreign keels. nor was france able to take any great part in maritime trade. content with the freight brought her by other nations, she sent out few { } expeditions, and those few, like that of james cartier, had no present result either in commerce or in colonies. her greatest mart was lyons, the fairs there being carefully fostered by the kings and being naturally favored by the growth of manufacture, while the maritime harbors either declined or at least gained nothing. for a few years la rochelle battened on religious piracy, but that was all. [sidenote: germany] in no country is the struggle for existence between the medieval and the modern commercial methods plainer than in germany. the trade of the hanse towns failed to grow, partly for the reason that their merchants had not command of the fluid wealth that raised to pre-eminence the southern cities. there were, indeed, other causes for the decline of the hanseatic baltic trade. the discovery of new routes, especially the opening of archangel on the white sea, short-circuited the current that had previously flowed through the kattegat and the skager rak. moreover, the development of both wheat-growing and of commerce in the netherlands and in england proved disastrous to the hanse. the shores of the baltic had at one time been the granary of europe, but they suffered somewhat by the greater yield of the more intensive agriculture introduced at that time elsewhere. even then their export continued to be considerable, though diverted from the northern to the southern ports of europe. in , for example, loads of grain were exported from königsberg, and in loads. the hanse towns lost their english trade in competition with the new companies there formed. a bitter diplomatic struggle was carried on by henry viii. the privileges to the germans of the steelyard confirmed and extended by him were abridged by his son, partly restored by mary and again taken { } away by elizabeth. the emperor, in agreement with the cities' senates, started retaliatory measures against english merchants, endeavoring to assure the hanse towns that they should at least "continue the ancient concord of their dear native country and the good dutches that now presently inhabit it." he therefore ordered english merchants banished, against which elizabeth protested. while the north of germany was suffering from its failure to adapt itself to new conditions, a power was rising in the south capable of levying tribute not only from the whole empire but from the habitable earth. among the merchant princes who, in augsburg, in nuremberg, in strassburg, placed on their own brows the golden crown of riches, the fuggers were both typical and supreme. james fugger "the rich," [sidenote: james fugger, - ] springing from a family already opulent, was one of those geniuses of finance that turn everything touched into gold. he carried on a large banking business, he loaned money to emperors and princes, he bought up mines and fitted out fleets, he re-organized great industries, he speculated in politics and religion. for the princes of the empire he farmed taxes; for the pope he sold indulgences at a / per cent. commission, and collected annates and other dues. in hungary, in spain, in italy, in the new world, his agents were delving for money and skilfully diverting it into his coffers. he was also a pillar of the church and a philanthropist, founding a library at augsburg and building model tenements for poor workers. he became the incarnation of a new great power, that of international finance. a contemporary chronicler says: "emperors, kings, princes and governors have sent ambassage unto him; the pope hath greeted him as his beloved son and hath embraced him; cardinals have risen before him. . . . he hath become the glory { } of the whole german land." his sons, raymond, anthony and jerome, were raised by charles v to the rank and privileges of counts, bannerets and barons. throughout the century corporations became less and less family partnerships and more and more impersonal or "soulless." they were semi-public, semi-private affairs, resting on special charters and actively promoted, not only in germany but in england and other countries, by the emperor, king, or territorial prince. on the other hand the capital was largely subscribed by private business men and the direction of the companies' affairs was left in their hands. liability was unlimited. [sidenote: monopolies] in their methods many of the sixteenth century corporations were surprisingly "modern." monopolies, corners, trusts and agreements to keep up prices flourished, notwithstanding constant legislation against them, as that against secret schedules of prices passed by the diet of nuremberg. [sidenote: - ] particularly noteworthy were the number of agreements to create a monopoly price in metals. [sidenote: ] thus a ring of german mine-owners was formed artificially to raise the price of silver, a measure defended publicly on the ground that it enriched germany at the expense of the foreigner. another example was the formation of a tinning company under the patronage of duke george of saxony. [sidenote: ] it proposed agreements with its bohemian rivals to fix the price of tin, [sidenote: ] but these usually failed even after a monopoly of bohemian tin had been granted by ferdinand to conrad mayr of augsburg. [sidenote: corners] the immense difficulty of cornering any of the larger articles of commerce was not so well appreciated in the earlier time as it is now. nothing is more instructive than the history of the mercury "trusts" of those years. [sidenote: ] when the competing companies owning mines at idria in carniola amalgamated for the purpose of { } enhancing the price of quicksilver, the attempt broke down by reason of the spanish mines. accordingly, one ambrose höchstetter of augsburg [sidenote: ] conceived the ambitious project of cornering the whole supply of the world. as has happened so often since, the higher price brought forth a much larger quantity of the article than had been reckoned with, the so-called "invisible supply"; the corner broke down and höchstetter failed with enormous liabilities of , gulden, and died in prison. the crash shook the financial world, but was nevertheless followed by still better planned and better financed efforts of the fuggers to put the whole quicksilver product of the world into an international trust. these final attempts were more or less successful. another ambitious scheme, which failed, was that of conrad rott of augsburg [sidenote: ff.] to get a monopoly of pepper. he agreed to buy six hundred tons of pepper from the king of portugal one year and one thousand tons the next, at the rate of ducats the ton, but even this failed to give him the desired monopoly. [sidenote: regulation of monopolies] just as in our own memory the trusts have aroused popular hatred and have brought down on their heads many attempts, usually unsuccessful, of governments to deal with them, so at the beginning of the capitalistic era, intense unpopularity was the lot of the new commercial methods and their exponents. monopolies were fiercely denounced in the contemporary german tracts and every diet made some effort to deal with them. first of all the merchants had to meet not only the envy and prejudices of the old order, but the positive teachings of the church. the prohibition of usury, and the doctrine that every article had a just or natural price, barred the road of the early entrepreneur. aquinas believed that no one should be allowed to make more money than he needed and that profits on { } commerce should be scaled down to such a point that they would give only a reasonable return. this idea was shared by catholic and protestant alike in the first years of the reformation; it can be found in geiler of kaiserberg and in luther. in the reformer's influential tract, _to the german nobility_, [sidenote: ] usury and "fuggerei" are denounced as the greatest misfortunes of germany. ulrich von hutten said that of the four classes of robbers, free-booting knights, lawyers, priests and merchants, the merchants were the worst. the imperial diets reflected popular opinion faithfully enough to try their best to bridle the great companies. the diet of trèves-cologne [sidenote: ] asked that monopolies and artificial enhancement of the prices of spice, copper and woolen cloth be prohibited. to effect this acts were passed intended to insure competition. [sidenote: ] this law against monopolies, however, was not vigorously enforced until the imperial treasurer cited before his tribunal many merchants of augsburg accused of violating it. the panic-stricken offenders feverishly hastened to make interest with the princes and city magistrates. but their main support was the emperor, who intervened energetically in their favor. from this time the bankers and great merchants labored hard at each diet to place the control of monopolies in the hands of the monarch. in return for his constant support he was made a large sharer in the profits of the great houses. in the struggle with the diets, at last the capitalists were thoroughly successful. the imperial council of regency passed an epoch-making ordinance, [sidenote: ] kept secret for fear of the people, expressly allowing merchants to sell at the highest prices they could get and recognizing certain monopolies said to be in the national interest as against other countries, and justified for the wages they provided for labor. about this { } time, for some reason, the agitation gradually died down. it is probable that the religious controversy took the public's mind off economic questions and the peasant's war, like all unsuccessful but dangerous risings of the poor, was followed by a strong reaction in favor of the conservative rich. moreover, it is evident that the currents of the time were too strong to be resisted by the feeble methods proposed by the reformers. when we remember that the chief practical measure recommended by luther was the total prohibition of trading in spices and other foreign wares that took money out of the country, it is easy to see that the regulation of a complex industry was beyond the scope of his ability. and little, if any, enlightenment came from other quarters. [sidenote: the netherlands] while the towns of southern germany were becoming the world's banking and industrial centers, the cities of the netherlands became its chief staple ports. for generations antwerp had had two fairs a year, but in it started a perpetual market, open to all merchants, even to foreigners, the whole year round, and in addition to this it increased its fairs to four. later a new merchants' exchange or bourse was built [sidenote: ] in which almost all the transactions now seen on our stock or produce exchanges took place. there was wild speculation, partly on borrowed money, especially in pepper, the price of which furnished a sort of barometer of bourse feeling. bets on prices and on events were made, and from this practice various forms of insurance took their rise. [sidenote: antwerp] the discovery of the new world brought an era of prosperity to antwerp that doubtless put her at the head of all commercial cities until the spanish sword cut her down. in there were commonly ships anchored in her harbor, as against at amsterdam, her chief rival and eventual heir. of these not { } uncommonly as many as sailed in one day, and, it is said, , carriages came in daily, with passengers and , with wares. even if these statements are considerable exaggerations, a reliable account of the exports in the single year shows the real greatness of the town. the total imports in that year amounted to , , gulden ($ , , ), divided as follows: italian silks, satins and ornaments , , gulden; german dimities , , ; german wines , , ; northern wheat , , ; french wine , , ; french dyes , ; french salt , ; spanish wool , , ; spanish wine , , ; portuguese spices , , ; english wool , ; english cloth , , . the last named article indicates the decay of flemish weaving due to english competition. for a time there had been war to the knife with english merchants, following the great commercial treaty popularly called the _malus intercursus_. [sidenote: ] according to the theory then held that one nation's loss was another's gain, [sidenote: commercial policy] this treaty was considered a masterpiece of policy in england and the foundation of her commercial greatness. it and its predecessor, the _magnus intercursus_, [sidenote: ] marked the new policy, characteristic of modern times, that made commercial advantages a chief object of diplomacy and of legislation. protective tariffs were enacted, the export of gold and silver prohibited, and sumptuary laws passed to encourage domestic industries. the policy as to export varied throughout the century and according to the article. the value of ships was highly appreciated. sir walter raleigh opined that command of the sea meant command of the world's riches and ultimately of the world itself. sir humphrey gilbert drew up a report advocating the acquisition of colonies as means of providing markets for home products. so little were the rights of the natives { } considered that sir humphrey stated that the savages would be amply rewarded for all that could be taken from them by the inestimable gift of christianity. [sidenote: buccaneering] as little regard was shown for the property of catholics as for that of heathens. merry england drew her dividends from slave-trading and from buccaneering as well as from honest exchange of goods. there is something fascinating about the career of a man like sir john hawking whose character was as infamous as his daring was serviceable. he early learned that "negroes were very good merchandise in hispaniola and that they might easily be had upon the coast of guinea," and so, financed by the british aristocracy and blessed by protestant patriots, he chartered the _jesus of lübeck_ and went burning, stealing and body-snatching in west african villages, crowded his hold full of blacks and sold those of them who survived at $ a head in the indies. quite fittingly he received as a crest "a demi-moor, proper, in chains." he then went preying on the spanish galleons, and at one time swindled philip out of $ , by pretending to be a traitor and a renegade; thus he rose from slaver to pirate and from pirate to admiral. [sidenote: english commerce] so pious, patriotic and profitable a business as buccaneering absorbed a greater portion of england's energies than did ordinary maritime commerce. a list of all ships engaged in foreign trade in shows that they amounted to an aggregate of only , tons burden, less than that of a single steamer of the largest size today. the largest ship that could reach london was of tons, but some twice as large anchored at other harbors. throughout the century trade multiplied, that of london, which profited the most, ten-fold. if the customs' dues furnish an accurate barometer for the volume of trade, while london was increasing the other ports were falling behind not only { } relatively but positively. in the years - london yielded to the treasury $ , and other ports $ , ; in - london paid $ , and other ports only $ , . as she grew in size and wealth london, like antwerp, felt the need of permanent fairs. from the continental city sir thomas gresham, the english financial agent in the netherlands, brought architect and materials [sidenote: ] and erected the royal exchange on the north side of cornhill in london, where the same institution stands today. built by gresham at his own expense, it was lined by a hundred small shops rented by him. as the new was rung in, the old passed away. the ancient restrictions on the fluidity of capital were almost broken down [sidenote: and ] by the end of elizabeth's reign. the statutes of bankruptcy, giving new and strong securities to creditors, marked the advent to power of the commercial class. capitalism took form in the chartering of large companies. the first of these, "the mistery and company of the merchant adventurers for the discovery of regions, dominions, islands and places unknown," [sidenote: ] commonly called the russia company, was a joint-stock corporation with members, each with a share valued at $ . it traded principally with russia, but, before the century was out, was followed by the levant company, the east india company, and others, for the exploitation of other regions. to northern spain england sent coarse cloth, cottons, sheepskins, wheat, butter and cheese, and brought back wine, oranges, lemons and timber. to france went wax, tallow, butter, cheese, wheat, rye, "manchester cloth," beans and biscuit in exchange for pitch, rosin, feathers, prunes and "great ynnions that be xii or xiiii ynches aboute," iron and wine. to the russian baltic ports, riga, reval and narva went coarse cloth, "corrupt" (_i.e._, adulterated) wine, cony-skins, { } salt and brandy, and from the same came flax, hemp, pitch, tar, tallow, wax and furs. salmon from ireland and other fish from scotland and denmark were paid for by "corrupt" wines. to the italian ports of leghorn, barcelona, civita vecchia and venice, and to the balearic isles went lead, fine cloth, hides, newfoundland fish and lime, and from them came oil, silk and fine porcelain. to barbary went fine cloth, ordnance and artillery, armor and timber for oars, though, as a memorandum of says, "if the spaniards catch you trading with them, you shall die for it." probably what they objected to most was the sale of arms to the infidel. from barbary came sugar, saltpetre, dates, molasses and carpets. andalusia demanded fine cloth and cambric in return for wines called "seckes," sweet oil, raisins, salt, cochineal, indigo, sumac, silk and soap. portugal took butter, cheese, fine cloth "light green or sad blue," lead, tin and hides in exchange for salt, oil, soap, cinnamon, cloves, nutmegs, pepper and all other indian wares. while the english drove practically no trade with the east indies, to the west indies they sent directly oil, looking-glasses, knives, shears, scissors, linen, and wine which, to be salable, must be "singular good." from thence came gold, pearls "very orient and big withall," sugar and molasses. to syria went colored cloth of the finest quality, and for it currants and sweet oil were taken. the establishment of an english factor in turkey [sidenote: ] with the express purpose of furthering trade with that country is an interesting landmark in commercial history. even as late as the reign of elizabeth england imported almost all "artificiality," as high-grade manufactures of a certain sort were called. a famous elizabethan play turns on the scarcity of needles, [sidenote: _gammer gurton's needle_, c. ] the whole household being turned upside down to look for { } the one lost by gammer gurton. these articles, as well as knives, nails, pins, buttons, dolls, tennis-balls, tape, thread, glass, and laces, were imported from the netherlands and germany. from the same quarter came "small wares for grocers,"--by which may be meant cabbages, turnips and lettuce,--and also hops, copper and brass ware. [sidenote: manufacture] having swept all before it in the domains of banking, mining and trade, capitalism, flushed with victory, sought for new worlds to conquer and found them in manufacture. here also a great struggle was necessary. hitherto the opposition to the new companies had been mainly on the part of the consumer; now the hostility of the laborer was aroused. the grapple of the two classes, in which the wage-earner went down, partly before the arquebus of the mercenary, partly under the lash and branding-iron of pitiless laws, will be described in the next section. here it is not the strife of the classes, but of the two economic systems, that is considered. capitalism won economically before it imposed its yoke on the vanquished by the harsh means of soldier and police. it won, in the final analysis, not because of the inherent power of concentrated wealth, though it used and abused this recklessly, but because, in the struggle for existence, it proved itself the form of life better fitted to survive in the conditions of modern society. it called forth technical improvements, it stimulated individual effort, it put an immense premium on thrift and investment, it cheapened production by the application of initially expensive but ultimately repaying, apparatus, it effected enormous economies in wholesale production and distribution. before the new methods of business the old gilds stood as helpless, as unready, as bowmen in the face of cannon. { } [sidenote: gilds] each medieval "craft" or "mistery" [ ] was in the hands of a gild, all the members of which were theoretically equal. each passed through the ranks of apprentice and other lower grades until he normally became a master-workman and as such entitled to a full and equal share in the management. the gild managed its property almost like that of an endowment in the hands of trustees; it supervised the whole life of each member, took care of him when sick, buried him when dead and pensioned his widow. in these respects it was like some mutual benefit societies of our day. almost inevitably in that age, it was under the protection of a patron saint and discharged various religious duties. it acted as a corporate whole in the government of the city and marched and acted as one on festive occasions. as typical of the organization of industry at the turning-point may be given the list of gilds at antwerp drawn up by albert dürer: [sidenote: ] there were goldsmiths, painters, stone-cutters, embroiderers, sculptors, joiners, carpenters, sailors, fishermen, butchers, cloth-weavers, bakers, cobblers, "and all sorts of artisans and many laborers and merchants of provisions." the list is fully as significant for what it omits as for what it includes. be it noted that there was no gild of printers, for that art had grown up since the crafts had begun to decline, and, though in some places found as a gild, was usually a combination of a learned profession and a capitalistic venture. again, in this great banking and trading port, there is no mention of gilds of wholesale merchants (for the "merchants of provisions" were certainly not this) nor of bankers. these were two fully capitalized businesses. finally, observe that there were many skilled and unskilled laborers { } not included in a special gild. here we have the beginning of the proletariat. a century earlier there would have been no special class of laborers, a century later no gilds worth mentioning. the gilds were handicapped by their own petty regulations. notwithstanding the fact that their high standards of craftsmanship produced an excellent grade of goods, they were over-regulated and hide-bound, averse to new methods. there was as great a contrast between their meticulous traditions and the freer paths of the new capitalism as there was between scholasticism and science. they could neither raise nor administer the funds needed for foreign commerce and for export industries. presently new technical methods were adopted by the capitalists, a finer way of smelting ores, and a new way of making brass, invented by peter von hoffberg, that saved per cent. of the fuel previously used. in the textile industries came first the spinning-wheel, then the stocking-frame. so in other manufactures, new machinery required novel organization. significant was the growth of new towns. the old cities were often so gild-ridden that they decayed, while places like manchester sprang up suddenly at the call of employment. the constant effort of the gild had been to suppress competition and to organize a completely stationary society. in a dynamic world that which refuses to change, perishes. so the gilds, while charging all their woes to the government, really choked themselves to death in their own bands. [sidenote: capitalistic production] there is perhaps some analogy between the progress of capitalism in the sixteenth century and the process by which the trusts have come to dominate production in our own memory. the larger industries, and especially those connected with export trade, were seized and reorganized first; for a long time, indeed throughout { } the century, the gilds kept their hold on small, local industries. for a long time both systems went on side by side; the encroachment was steady, but gradual. the exact method of the change was two-fold. in the first place the constitution of the gild became more oligarchical. the older members tended to restrict the administration more and more; they increased the number of apprentices by lengthening the years of apprenticeship and reduced the poorer members to the rank of journeymen who were expected to work, not as before for a limited term of years, but for life, as wage-earners. when the journeymen rebelled, they were put down. the english clothworkers' court book, for example, enacted the rule in that journeymen who would not work on conditions imposed by the masters should be imprisoned for the first offence and whipped and branded for the second. nevertheless, to some extent, the master's calling was kept open to the more enterprising and intelligent laborers. it is this opportunity to rise that has always broken up the solidarity of the working class more than anything else. [sidenote: great commercial companies] but a second transforming influence worked faster from without than did the internal decay of the gild. this was the extension of the commercial system to manufacture. the gilds soon found themselves at the mercy of the great new companies that wanted wares in large quantities for export. thus the commercial company came either to absorb or to dominate the industries that supplied it. an example of this is supplied by the paris mercers, who, from being mainly dealers in foreign goods, gradually became employers of the crafts. similarly the london haberdashers absorbed the crafts of the hatters and cappers. the middle man, who commanded the market, soon found the strategic value of his position for controlling { } the supply of articles. commercial capital rapidly became industrial. one by one the great gilds fell under the control of commercial companies. one of the last instances was the formation of the stationers' company by which the printers were reduced to the rank of an industry subordinate to that of booksellers. [sidenote: legislation on gilds] finally came the legislative attack on the gilds, that broke what little power they had left. there is now a tendency to minimise the result of legislation in this field, but the impression that one gets by perusing the statutes not only of england but of continental countries is that, while perhaps the governments would not have admitted any hostility to the gilds as such, they were strongly opposed to many features of them, and were determined to change them in accordance with the interests of the now dominant class. the policy of the moneyed men was not to destroy the crafts, but to exploit them; indeed they often found their old franchises extremely useful in arrogating to themselves the powers that had once belonged to the gild as a whole. the town governments were elected by the wealthy burghers; parliaments soon came to side with them, and the monarch had already been bribed into an ally. to give specific examples of the new trend is easy. when the great tapestry manufacture of brussels was reorganized [sidenote: ] on a basis very favorable to the capitalists, the law sanctioning this step spoke contemptuously of the mutual benefit and religious functions of the gild as "petty details." [sidenote: ] brandenburg now regulated the terms on which entrance to a gild should be allowed instead of leaving the matter as of old to the members themselves. [sidenote: ] the polish nobility, jealous of the cities' monopoly of trade, demanded the total abolition of the gilds. [sidenote: ff.] a series of measures in england weakened the power of the gilds; under edward vi [sidenote: ] their endowments for religious purposes were { } attacked, and this hurt them far more than would appear on the surface. the important act touching weavers [sidenote: ] both witnessed the unhappy condition of the misteries and, without seeming to do so, still further put them in the power of their masters. the workmen, it seems, had complained "that the rich and wealthy clothiers oppress them" by building up factories, or workshops in which many looms were installed, instead of keeping to the old commission or sweat-shop system, by which piece work was given out and done by each man at home. the gild-workmen preferred this method, because their great rival was the newly developed proletariat, masses of men who could only be accommodated in large buildings. the act, under the guise of redressing the grievance, in reality confirmed the powers of the capitalists, for, while forbidding the use of factories outside of cities, it allowed them within towns and in the four northern counties, thus fortifying the monopolists in those places where they were strong, and hitting their rivals elsewhere. further legislation, like the elizabethan statute of apprentices, [sidenote: ] strengthened the hands of the masters at the expense of the journeymen. such examples are only typical; similar laws were enacted throughout europe. by act after act the employers were favored at the expense of the laborers. [sidenote: agriculture] there remained agriculture, at that time by far the largest and most important of all the means by which man wrings his sustenance from nature. even now the greater part of the population in most civilized countries--and still more in semi-civilized--is rural, but four hundred years ago the proportion was much larger. england was a predominantly agricultural country until the eighteenth century,--england, the most commercial and industrial of nations! though { } the last field to be attacked by capital, agriculture was as thoroughly renovated in the sixteenth century by this irrigating force as the other manners of livelihood had been transformed before it. medieval agriculture was carried on by peasants holding small amounts of land which would correspond to the small shops and slender capital of the handicraftsman. each local unit, whether free village or a manor, was made up of different kinds of land,--arable, commons for pasturing sheep and cattle, forests for gathering firewood and for herding swine and meadows for growing hay. the arable land was divided into three so-called "fields," or sections, each field partitioned into smaller portions called in england "shots," and these in turn were subdivided into acre strips. each peasant possessed a certain number of these tiny lots, generally about thirty, ten in each field. normally, one field would be left fallow each year in turn, one field would be sown with winter wheat or rye (the bread crop), and one field with barley for beer and oats for feeding the horses and cattle. into this system it was impossible to introduce individualism. each man had to plow and sow when the village decided it should be done. and the commons and woodlands were free for all, with certain regulations.[ ] [sidenote: medieval farming methods] the art of farming was not quite primitive, but it had changed less since the dawn of history than it has changed since . instead of great steam-plows and all sorts of machinery for harrowing and harvesting, small plows were pulled by oxen, and hoes and rakes were plied by hand. lime, marl and manure were used for fertilizing, but scantily. the cattle were { } small and thin, and after a hard winter were sometimes so weak that they had to be dragged out to pasture. sheep were more profitable, and in the summer season good returns were secured from chickens, geese, swine and bees. diseases of cattle were rife and deadly. the principles of breeding were hardly understood. fitzherbert, who wrote on husbandry in the early sixteenth century, along with some sensible advice makes remarks, on the influence of the moon on horse-breeding, worthy of hesiod. indeed, the matter was left almost to itself until a statute of henry viii provided that no stallions above two years old and under fifteen hands high be allowed to run loose on the commons, and no mares of less than thirteen hands, lest the breed of horses deteriorate. it was to meet the same situation that the habit of castrating horses arose and became common about . [sidenote: capitalistic change] the capitalistic attack on communistic agriculture took two principal forms. in some countries, like germany, it was the consequence of the change from natural economy to money economy. the new commercial men bought up the estates of the nobles and subjected them to a more intense cultivation, at the same time using all the resources of law and government to make them as lucrative as possible. [sidenote: inclosures] but in two countries, england and spain, and to some small extent in others, a profitable opportunity for investment was found in sheep-farming on a large scale. in england this manifested itself in "inclosures," by which was primarily meant the fencing in for private use of the commons, but secondarily came to be applied to the conversion of arable land into pasture[ ] and the substitution of large holdings for small. the cause of the movement was the demand for wool in cloth-weaving, largely for export trade. { } [sidenote: complaint against inclosures] contemporaries noticed with much alarm the operations of this economic change. a cry went up that sheep were eating men, that england was being turned into one great pasture to satisfy the greed of the rich, while the land needed for grain was abandoned and tenants forcibly ejected. the outcry became loudest about the years - , when a commission was appointed to investigate the "evil" of inclosures. it was found that in the past thirty years the amount of land in the eight counties most affected was , acres. this was not all for grazing; in yorkshire it was largely for sport, in the midlands for plowing, in the south for pasture. the acreage would seem extremely small to account for the complaint it excited. doubtless it was only the chief and most typical of the hardships caused to a certain class by the introduction of new methods. one is reminded of the bitter hostility to the introduction of machinery in the nineteenth century, when the vast gain in wealth to the community as a whole, being indirect, seemed cruelly purchased at the cost of the sufferings of those laborers who could not adapt themselves to the novel methods. evolution is always hard on a certain class and the sufferers quite naturally vociferate their woes without regard to the real causes of the change or to the larger interests of society. certain it is that inclosures went on uninterrupted throughout the century, in spite of legislative attempts to stop them. indeed, they could hardly help continuing, when they were so immensely profitable. land that was inclosed for pasture brought five pounds for every three pounds it had paid under the plow. sheep multiplied accordingly. the law of spoke of some men owning as many as , sheep, and unwittingly gave, in the form of a complaint, the cause thereof, { } namely that the price of wool had recently doubled. the law limited the number of sheep allowed to one man to . the people arose and slaughtered sheep wholesale in one of those unwise and blind, but not unnatural, outbursts of sabotage by which the proletariat now and then seeks to destroy the wealth that accentuates their poverty. then as always, the only causes for unwelcome alterations of their manner of life seen by them was the greed and heartlessness of a ring of men, or of the government. the deeper economic forces escaped detection, or at least, attention. during the period - it is probable that about / per cent. of the total area of england had been inclosed. the counties most affected were the midlands, in some of which the amount of land affected was per cent. to per cent. of the total area. but though the aggregate seems small, it was a much larger proportion, in the then thinly settled state of the realm, of the total arable land,--of this it was probably one-fifth. under elizabeth perhaps one-third of the improved land was used for grazing and two-thirds was under the plow. [sidenote: spain: the mesta] in spain the same tendency to grow wool for commercial purposes manifested itself in a slightly different form. there, not by the inclosure of commons, but by the establishment of a monopoly by the castilian "sheep-trust," the mesta, did a large corporation come to prevail over the scattered and peasant agricultural interests. the mesta, which existed from to , reached the pinnacle of its power in the first two-thirds of the sixteenth century. [sidenote: ] when it took over from the government the appointment of the officer supposed to supervise it in the public interest, the alcalde entregador, it may be said to have won a decisive victory for capitalism. at that time it owned { } as many as seven million sheep, and exported wool to the weight of , tons and to the value of $ , , per annum. [sidenote: wheat growing] having mastered the sources of wealth offered by wool-growing, the capitalists next turned to arable land and by their transformation of it took the last step in the commercializing of life. even now, in england, land is not regarded as quite the same kind of investment as a factory or railroad; there is still the vestige of a tradition that the tenant has customary privileges against the right of the owner of the land to exploit it for all it is worth. but this is indeed a faint ghost of the medieval idea that the custom was sacred and the profit of the landlord entirely secondary. the longest step away from the medieval to the modern system was taken in the sixteenth century, and its outward and visible sign was the substitution of the leasehold for the ancient copyhold. the latter partook of the nature of a vested right or interest; the former was but a contract for a limited, often for a short, term, at the end of which the tenant could be ejected, the rent raised, or, as was most usual, an enormous fine (i.e., fee) exacted for renewal of the lease. the revolution was facilitated by, if it did not in part consist of, the acquisition of the land by the new commercial class, resulting in increased productivity. new and better methods of tillage were introduced. the scattered thirty acres of the peasant were consolidated into three ten-acre fields, henceforth to be used as the owner thought best. one year a field would be under a cereal crop; the next year converted into pasture. this improved method, known as "convertible husbandry" practiced in england and to a lesser extent on the continent, was a big step in the direction of scientific agriculture. regular rotation of crops { } was hardly a common practice before the eighteenth century, but there was something like it in places where hemp and flax would be alternated with cereals. capitalists in the netherlands built dykes, drained marshes and dug expensive canals. elsewhere also swamps were drained and irrigation begun. but perhaps no single improvement in technique accounted for the greater yield of the land so much as the careful and watchful self-interest of the private owner, as against the previous semi-communistic carelessness. several popular proverbs then gained currency in the sense that there is no fertilizer of the glebe like that put on by the master himself. harrison's statement, in elizabeth's reign, that an inclosed acre yielded as much as an acre and a half of common, is borne out by the english statistics of the grain trade. from to , while the process of inclosure was at its height, the export of corn more than doubled; it then diminished until it almost ceased in , after which it rapidly increased until . during the whole century the population was growing, and it is therefore reasonable to suppose that the yield of the soil was considerably greater in than it was in . [sidenote: export of grain after ] it must, however, be admitted that the increase in exports was in part caused by and in part symptomatic of a change in the policy of the government. when commerce became king he looked out for his own interests first, and identified these interests with the dividends of small groups of his chief ministers. trade was regulated, by tariff and bounty, no longer in the interests of the consumer but in those of the manufacturer and merchant. the corn-laws of nineteenth-century england have their counterpart in the elizabethan policy of encouraging the export of grain that was needed at home. as soon as the land and the parliament both fell into the hands of the new { } capitalistic landlords, they used the one to enhance to profits of the other. nor was england alone in this. france favored the towns, that is the industrial centers, by forcing the rural population to sell at very low rates, and by encouraging export of grain. perhaps this same policy was most glaring of all in sixtine rome, where the papal states were taxed, as the provinces of the empire had been before, to keep bread cheap in the city. [ ] from the latin _ministerium_, french _métier_, not connected with "mystery." [ ] for the substance of this paragraph, as well as for numerous suggestions on the rest of the chapter, i am indebted to professor n. s. b. gras, of minneapolis. [ ] although some of the inclosed land was tilled; see below. section . the rise of the money power [sidenote: money crowned king] in modern times, money has been king. perhaps at a certain period in the ancient world wealth had as much power as it has now, but in the middle ages it was not so. money was then ignored by the tenant or serf who paid his dues in feudal service or in kind; it was despised by the noble as the vulgar possession of jews or of men without gentle breeding, and it was hated by the church as filthy lucre, the root of all evil and, together with sex, as one of the chief instruments of satan. the "religious" man would vow poverty as well as celibacy. but money now became too powerful to be neglected or despised, and too desirable to be hated. in the age of transition the medieval and modern conceptions of riches are found side by side. when holbein came to london the hanse merchants there employed him to design a pageant for the coronation of anne boleyn. in their hall he painted two allegorical pictures, the triumph of poverty and the triumph of wealth. the choice of subjects was representative of the time of transition. [sidenote: revolution] the economic innovation sketched in the last few pages was followed by a social readjustment sufficiently violent and sufficiently rapid to merit the name of revolution. the wave struck different countries at { } different times, but when it did come in each, it came with a rush, chiefly in the twenties in germany and spain, in the thirties and forties in england, a little later, with the civil wars, in france. it submerged all classes but the bourgeoisie; or, rather, it subjugated them all and forced them to follow, as in a roman triumph, the conquering car of wealth. [sidenote: bourgeoisie uses monarchy] the one other power in the state that was visibly aggrandized at the expense of other classes, besides the plutocracy, was that of the prince. this is sometimes spoken of as the result of a new political theory, an iniquitous, albeit unconscious, conspiracy of luther and machiavelli, to exalt the divine right of kings. but in truth their theories were but an expression of the accomplished, or easily foreseen, fact; and this fact was due in largest measure to the need of the commercial class for stable and for strong government. riches, which at the dawn of the twentieth century seemed, momentarily, to have assumed a cosmopolitan character, were then bound up closely with the power of the state. to keep order, to bridle the lawless, to secure concessions and markets, a mercantile society needed a strong executive, and this they could find only in the person of the prince. luther says that kings are only god's gaolers and hangmen, high-born and splendid because the meanest of god's servants must be thus accoutred. it would be a little truer to say that they were the gaolers and hangmen hired by the bourgeoisie to over-awe the masses and that their quaint trappings and titles were kept as an ornament to the gay world of snobbery. [sidenote: and other agencies] together with the monarchy, the new masters of men developed other instruments, parliamentary government in some countries, a bureaucracy in others, and a mercenary army in nearly all. at that time was either invented or much quoted the saying that { } gold was one of the nerves of war. the expensive firearms that blew up the feudal castle were equally deadly when turned against the rioting peasants. [sidenote: to break the nobility] just as the burgher was ready to shoulder his way into the front rank, he was greatly aided by the frantic civil strife that broke out in both the older privileged orders. never was better use made of the maxim, "divide and conquer," than when the reformation divided the church, and the civil wars, dynastic in england, feudal in germany and nominally religious in france, broke the sword of the noble. when the earls and knights had finished cutting each others' throats there were hardly enough of them left to make a strong stand. occasionally they tried to do so, as in the revolt of sickingen in germany, of the northern earls in england, and in the early stages of the rising of the communeros in spain. in every case they were defeated, and the work of the sword was completed by the axe and the dagger. whether they trod the blood-soaked path to the tower, or whether they succumbed to the hired assassins of catharine, the old nobles were disposed of and the power of their caste was broken. but their places were soon taken by new men. some bought baronies and titles outright, others ripened more gradually to these honors in the warmth of the royal smile and on the sunny slopes of manors wrested from the monks. but the end finally attained was that the coronet became a mere bauble in the hands of the rich, the final badge of social deference to success in money-making. [sidenote: plunder the church] still more violent was the spoliation of the church. the confiscations carried out in the name of religion redounded to the benefit of the newly rich. it is true that all the property taken did not fall into their hands; some was kept by the prince, more was used to found or endow hospices, schools and asylums for the poor. { } but the most and the best of the land was soon thrown to the eager grasp of traders and merchants. in england probably one-sixth of all the cultivated soil in the kingdom was thus transferred, in the course of a few years, into the hands of new men. thus were created many of the "county families" of england, and thus the new interest soon came to dominate parliament. under henry vii the house of lords, at one important session, mustered thirty spiritual and only eighteen temporal peers. in the reign of his son the temporal peers came to outnumber the spiritual, from whom the abbots had been subtracted. the commons became, what they remained until the nineteenth century, a plutocracy representing either landed or commercial wealth. somewhat similar secularizations of ecclesiastical property took place throughout germany, the cities generally leading. the process was slow, but certain, in electoral saxony, hesse and the other protestant territories, and about the same time in sweden and in denmark. but something the same methods were recommended even in roman catholic lands and in russia of the eastern church, so contagious were the examples of the reformers. [sidenote: ] venice forbade gifts or legacies to church or cloisters. [sidenote: ] france, where confiscation was proposed, [sidenote: ] partially attained the same ends by subjecting the clergy to the power of the crown. [sidenote: bourgeoisie] among the groups into which society naturally falls is that of the intellectual class, the body of professional men, scientists, writers and teachers. [sidenote: bribes the intelligentsia] this group, just as it came into a new prominence in the sixteenth century, at the same time became in part an annex and a servant to the money power. the high expense of education as compared with the middle ages, the enormous fees then charged for graduating in professional schools, the custom of buying { } livings in the church and practices in law and medicine, the need of patronage in letters and art, made it nearly impossible for the sons of the poor to enter into the palace of learning. moreover the patronage of the wealthy, their assertion of a monopoly of good form and social prestige, seduced the professional class that now ate from the merchant's hand, aped his manners, and served his interests. for four hundred years law, divinity, journalism, art, and education, have cut their coats, at least to some extent, in the fashion of the court of wealth. [sidenote: and subjugates the proletariat] last of all, there remained the only power that proved itself nearly a match for money, that of labor. far outnumbering the capitalists, in every other way the workers were their inferiors,--in education, in organization, in leadership and in material resources. one thing that made their struggle so hard was that those men of exceptional ability who might have been their leaders almost always made fortunes of their own and then turned their strength against their former comrades. labor also suffered terribly from quacks and ranters with counsels of folly or of madness. the social wars of the sixteenth century partook of the characteristics of both medieval and modern times. the peasants' revolt in germany was both communistic and religious; the risings of communeros and the hermandad in spain were partly communistic; the several rebellions in england were partly religious. but a new element marked them all, the demand on the part of the workers for better wages and living conditions. the proletariat of town and mining district joined the german peasants in ; the revolt was in many respects like a gigantic general strike. [sidenote: emancipation of the serfs] great as are the ultimate advantages of freedom, the emancipation of the serfs cannot be reckoned as { } an immediate economic gain to them. they were freed not because of the growth of any moral sentiment, much less as the consequence of any social cataclysm, but because free labor was found more profitable than unfree. it is notable that serfs were emancipated first in those countries like scotland where there had been no peasants' revolt; the inference is that they were held in bondage in other countries longer than it was profitable to do so for political reasons. the last serf was reclaimed in scotland in , but the serfs had not been entirely freed in england even in the reign of elizabeth. in france the process went on rapidly in the th century, often against the wishes of the serfs themselves. one hundred thousand peasants emigrated from northern france to burgundy at that time to exchange their free for a servile state. however, they did not enjoy their bondage for long. serfs in the burgundian state, especially in the netherlands, lost their last chains in the sixteenth century, most rapidly between the years and . in germany serfdom remained far beyond the end of the sixteenth century, doubtless in part because of the fears excited by the civil war of . [sidenote: regulation of labor] in place of the old serfdom under one master came a new and detailed regulation of labor by the government. this regulation was entirely from the point of view, and consequently all but entirely in the interests, of the propertied classes. the form was the old form of medieval paternalism, but the spirit was the new spirit of capitalistic gain. the endeavor of the government to be fair to the laborer as well as to the employer is very faint, but it is just perceptible in some laws. most of the taxes and burdens of the state were loaded on the backs of the poor. hours of labor were fixed at from to according to the season. { } regulation of wages was not sporadic, but was a regular part of the work of certain magistrates, in england of the justices of the peace. parliament enforced with incredible severity the duty of the poor and able-bodied man to work. sturdy idlers were arrested and drafted into the new proletariat needed by capital. when whipping, branding, and short terms of imprisonment, did not suffice to compel men to work, a law was passed to brand able-bodied vagrants on the chest with a "v," [sidenote: ] and to assign them to some honest neighbor "to have and to hold as a slave for the space of two years then next following." the master should "only give him bread and water and small drink and such refuse of meat as he should think meet to cause the said slave to work." if the slave still idled, or if he ran away and was caught again he was to be marked on the face with an "s" and to be adjudged a slave for life. if finally refractory he was to be sentenced as a felon. this terrible measure, intended partly to reduce lawless vagrancy, partly to supply cheap labor to employers, failed of its purpose and was repealed in two years. its re-enactment was vainly urged by cecil upon parliament in . as a substitute for it in this year the law was passed forbidding masters to receive any workman without a testimonial from his last employer; laborers were not allowed to stop work or change employers without good cause, and conversely employers were forbidden to dismiss servants "unduly." [sidenote: the proletariat] in germany the features of the modern struggle between owners and workers are plainest. in mining, especially, there developed a real proletariat, a class of laborers seeking employment wherever it was best paid and combining and striking for higher wages. to combat them were formed pools of employers to keep down wages and to blacklist agitators. typical of these was the agreement made by duke george of { } saxony and other large mine-owners not to raise wages, [sidenote: ] not to allow miners to go from place to place seeking work, and not to hire any troublesome agitator once dismissed by any operator. it is extraordinary how rapidly many features of the modern proletariat developed. take, for example, the housing problem. as this became acute some employers built model tenements for their workers. others started stores at which they could buy food and clothing, and even paid them in part in goods instead of in money. labor tended to become fluid, moving from one town to another and from one industry to another according to demand. such a thing had been not unknown in the previous centuries; it was strongly opposed by law in the sixteenth. the new risks run by workers were brought out when, for the first time in history, a great mining accident took place in , a flood by which eighty-eight miners were drowned. women began to be employed in factories and were cruelly exploited. most sickening of all, children were forced, as they still are in some places, to wear out their little lives in grinding toil. the lace-making industry in belgium, for example, fell entirely into the hands of children. far from protesting against this outrage, the law actually sanctioned it by the provision that no girl over twelve be allowed to make lace, lest the supply of maidservants be diminished. [sidenote: strikes] strikes there were and rebellions of all sorts, every one of them beaten back by the forces of the government and of the capitalists combined. the kings of commerce were then, more than now, a timorous and violent race, for then they were conscious of being usurpers. when they saw a münzer or a kett--the mad hamlets of the people--mop and mow and stage their deeds before the world, they became frantic with terror and could do nought but take subtle counsel to { } kill these heirs, or pretenders, to their realms. the great rebellions are all that history now pays much attention to, but in reality the warfare on the poor was ceaseless, a chronic disease of the body politic. louis xi spared nothing, disfranchisement, expulsion, wholesale execution, to beat down the lean and hungry conspirators against the public order, whose raucous cries of misery he detested. with somewhat gentler, because stronger, hand, his successors followed in his footsteps. but when needed the troops were there to support the rich. the great strike of printers at lyons is one example of several in france. in the german mines there were occasional strikes, sternly suppressed by the princes acting in agreement. [sidenote: degradation of the poor] there can be no doubt that the economic developments of the sixteenth century worked tremendous hardship to the poor. it was noted everywhere that whereas wine and meat were common articles in , they had become luxuries by . some scholars have even argued from this a diminution of the wealth of europe during the century. this, however, was not the case. the aggregate of capital, if we may judge from many other indications, notably increased throughout the century. but it became more and more concentrated in a few hands. the chief natural cause of the depression of the working class was the rise in prices. wages have always shown themselves more sluggish in movement than commodities. while money wages, therefore, remained nearly stationary, real wages shrank throughout the century. in a french laborer was obliged to spend per cent. of his wages merely on food. a whole day's labor would only buy him two and one half pounds of salt. rents were low, because the houses were incredibly bad. at that time a year's rent for a laborer's tenement cost from ten to twenty { } days labor; it now costs about thirty days' labor. the new commerce robbed the peasant of some of his markets by substituting foreign articles like indigo and cochineal for domestic farm products. the commercialization of agriculture worked manifold hardship to the peasant. many were turned off their farms to make way for herds of sheep, and others were hired on new and harder terms to pay in money for the land they had once held on customary and not too oppressive terms of service and dues. under all the splendors of the renaissance, with its fields of cloth of gold and its battles like knightly jousts, with its constant stream of adulation from artists and authors, with the ostentation of the new wealth and the greedily tasted pleasures of living and enjoying, an attentive ear can hear the low, uninterrupted murmurs of the wretched, destined to burst forth, on the day of despair or of vengeance, into ferocious clamors. [sidenote: no pity for the poor] nor was there then much pity for the poor. the charity and worship for "apostolic poverty" of the middle ages had ceased, nor had that social kindness, so characteristic of our own time that it is affected even by those who do not feel it, arisen. the rich and noble, absorbed in debauchery or art, regarded the peasant as a different race--"the ox without horns" they called him--to be cudgeled while he was tame and hunted like a wolf when he ran wild. artists and men of letters ignored the very existence of the unlettered, with the superb horatian, "i hate the vulgar crowd and i keep them off," or, if they were aroused for a moment by the noise of civil war merely remarked, with erasmus, that any tyranny was better than that of the mob. churchmen like matthew lang and warham and the popes oppressed the poor whom jesus loved. "rustica gens optima flens" smartly observed a canon of zurich, while luther blurted out, { } "accursed, thievish, murderous peasants" and "the gentle" melanchthon almost sighed, "the ass will have blows and the people _will_ be ruled by force." there were, indeed, a few honorable exceptions to the prevalent callousness. "i praise thee, thou noble peasant," wrote an obscure german, "before all creatures and lords upon earth; the emperor must be thy equal." the little read epigrams of euricius cordus, a german humanist who was, by exception, also humane, denounce the blood-sucking of the peasants by their lords. greatest of all, sir thomas more felt, not so much pity for the lot of the poor, as indignation at their wrongs. _the utopia_ will always remain one of the world's noblest books because it was almost the first to feel and to face the social problem. [sidenote: pauperism] this became urgent with the large increase of pauperism and vagrancy throughout the sixteenth century, the most distressing of the effects of the economic revolution. when life became too hard for the evicted tenant of a sheep-raising landlord, or for the déclassé journeyman of the town gild, he had little choice save to take to the road. gangs of sturdy vagrants, led by and partly composed of old soldiers, wandered through europe. but a little earlier than the sixteenth century that race of mendicants the gipsies, made their debut. the word "rogue" was coined in england about to name the new class. _the book of vagabonds_, [sidenote: ] written by matthew hütlin of pfortzheim, describes twenty-eight varieties of beggars, exposes their tricks, and gives a vocabulary of their jargon. some of these beggars are said to be dangerous, threatening the wayfarer or householder who will not pay them; others feign various diseases, or make artificial wounds and disfigurations to excite pity, or take a religious garb, or drag chains to show that they had escaped from galleys, or have other plausible tales of woe and { } of adventure. all contemporaries testify to the alarming numbers of these men and women; how many they really were it is hard to say. it has been estimated that in per cent. of the population of hamburg and per cent. of the population of augsburg were paupers. under elizabeth probably from a quarter to a third of the population of london were paupers, and the country districts were just as bad. certain parts of wales were believed to have a third of their population in vagabondage. in the face of this appalling situation the medieval method of charity completely broke down. in fact, with its many begging friars, with its injunction of alms-giving as a good work most pleasing to god, and with its respect for voluntary poverty, the church rather aggravated than palliated the evil of mendicancy. the state had to step in to relieve the church. [sidenote: state poor-relief, ] this was early done in the netherlands. a severe edict was issued and repeatedly re-enacted against tramps ordering them to be whipped, have their heads shaved, and to be further punished with stocks. an enterprising group of humanists and lawyers demanded that the government should take over the duty of poor-relief from the church. accordingly at lille a "common chest" was started, the first civil charitable bureau in the netherlands. [sidenote: ] at bruges a cloister was secularized and turned into a school for eight hundred poor children in uniform. a secular bureau of charity was started at antwerp. [sidenote: ] under these circumstances the humanist lewis vives wrote his famous tract on the relief of the poor, [sidenote: january, ] in the form of a letter to the town council of bruges. in this well thought out treatise he advocated the law that no one should eat who did not work, and urged that all able-bodied vagrants should be hired out to artisans--a suggestion how welcome to the capitalists eager to { } draft men into their workshops! cases of people unable to work should also be taken up, and they should be cared for by application of religious endowments by the government. vives' claim to recognition lies even more in his spirit than in his definite program. for almost the first time in history he plainly said that poverty was a disgrace as well as a danger to the state and should be, not palliated, but extirpated. while vives was still preparing his treatise the city of ypres [sidenote: ] (tragic name!) had already sought his advice and acted upon it, as well as upon the example of earlier reforms in german cities, in promulgating an ordinance. the city government combined all religious and philanthropic endowments into one fund and appointed a committee to administer it, and to collect further gifts. these citizens were to visit the poor in their dwellings, to apply what relief was necessary, to meet twice a week to concert remedial measures and to have charge of enforcing the laws against begging and idleness. all children of the poor were sent to school or taught a trade. though there were sporadic examples of municipal poor-relief in germany prior to the reformation, it was the religious movement that there first gave the cause its decisive impulse. in his _address to the german nobility_ luther had recommended that each city should take care of its own poor and suppress "the rascally trade of begging." during his absence at the wartburg his more radical colleagues had taken steps to put these ideas into practice at wittenberg. a common fund was started by the application of ecclesiastical endowments, from which orphans were to be housed, students at school and university to be helped, poor girls dowered and needy workmen loaned money at four per cent. a severe law against begging was passed. augsburg and nuremberg followed the { } example of wittenberg almost at once [sidenote: ] and other german cities, to the number of forty-eight, one by one joined the procession. for fairly obvious reasons the state regulation of pauperism, though it did not originate in the reformation, was much more rapidly and thoroughly developed in protestant lands. in these the power of the state and the economic revolution attained their maximum development, whereas the roman church was inclined, or obligated, to stand by the medieval position. "alms-giving is papistry," said a scotch tract. thus christian cellarius, a professor at louvain, published _a plea for the right of the poor to beg_. [sidenote: ] the spanish monk, lawrence da villavicenzio in his _sacred economy of caring for the poor_, [sidenote: ] condemned the whole plan of state regulation and subvention as heretical. the council of trent, also, put itself on the medieval side, and demanded the restoration to the church of the direction of charity. [sidenote: ] but even in catholic lands the new system made headway. as the university of paris approved the ordinance of ypres, in france, and in catholic germany, a plan comprising elements of the old order, but informed by the modern spirit, grew up. in england the problem of pauperism became more acute than elsewhere. the drastic measures taken to force men to work failed to supply all needs. after municipal relief of various sorts had been tried, and after the government had in vain tried to stimulate private munificence to co-operate with the church [sidenote: ] to meet the growing need, the first compulsory poor rates were laid. three or four years later came an act for setting the poor to labor in workhouses. these measures failed of the success that met the continental method. even compared to scotland, england developed a disproportionate amount of pauperism. some { } authorities have asserted that by giving the poor a legal right to aid she encouraged the demand for it. [sidenote: ] probably, however, she simply furnished the extreme example of the commercialism that made money but did not make men. { } chapter xii main currents of thought were we reading the biography of a wayward genius, we should find the significance of the book neither in the account of his quarrels and of his sins nor in the calculation of his financial difficulties and successes, but in the estimate of his contributions to the beauty and wisdom of the world. something the same is true about the history of a race or of a period; the political and economic events are but the outward framework; the intellectual achievement is both the most attractive and the most repaying object of our study. in this respect the sixteenth century was one of the most brilliant; it produced works of science that outstripped all its predecessors; it poured forth masterpieces of art and literature that are all but matchless. section . biblical and classical scholarship [sidenote: position of bible in th century] it is naturally impossible to give a full account of all the products of sixteenth century genius. in so vast a panorama only the mountain peaks can be pointed out. one of these peaks is assuredly the bible. never before nor since has that book been so popular; never has its study absorbed so large a part of the energies of men. it is true that the elucidation of the text was not proportional to the amount of labor spent on it. for the most part it was approached not in a scientific but in a dogmatic spirit. men did not read it historically and critically but to find their own dogmas in it. nevertheless, the foundations were laid for both the textual and the higher criticism. { } [sidenote: the greek text] the greek text of the new testament was first published by erasmus in march, . revised, but not always improved, editions were brought out by him in , and . for the first edition he had before him ten manuscripts, all of them minuscules, the oldest of which, though he believed it might have come from the apostolic age, is assigned by modern criticism to the twelfth century. in the course of printing, some bad errors were introduced, and the last six verses of the apocalypse, wanting in all the manuscripts, were supplied by an extremely faulty translation from the latin. the results were such as might have been anticipated. though the text has been vastly purified by modern critics, the edition of erasmus was of great service and was thoroughly honest. he noted that the last verses of mark were doubtful and that the passage on the adulteress (john vii, to viii, ) was lacking in the best authorities, and he omitted the text on the three heavenly witnesses (i john v, ) as wanting in all his manuscripts. for this omission he was violently attacked. to support his position he asked his friend bombasius to consult the codex vaticanus, and dared to assert that were a single manuscript found with the verse in greek, he would include it in subsequent editions. though there were at the time no codices with the verse in question--which was a latin forgery of the fourth century, possibly due to priscillian--one was promptly manufactured. though erasmus suspected the truth, that the verse had been interpolated from the latin text, he added it in his third edition "that no occasion for calumny be given." this one sample must serve to show how erasmus's work was received. for every deviation from the vulgate, whether in the greek text or in the new latin translation with which he accompanied it, he was ferociously assailed. his { } own anecdote of the old priest who, having the misprint "mumpsimus" for "sumpsimus" in his missal, refused to correct the error when it was pointed out, is perfectly typical of the position of his critics. new truth must ever struggle hard against old prejudice. while erasmus was working, a much more ambitious scheme for publishing the scriptures was maturing under the direction of cardinal ximénez at alcalá or, as the town was called in latin, complutum. the complutensian polyglot, as it was thence named, was published in six volumes, four devoted to the old testament, one to the new testament, and one to a hebrew lexicon and grammar. the new testament volume has the earliest date, , but was withheld from the public for several years after this. the manuscripts from which the greek texts were taken are unknown, but they were better than those used by erasmus. the later editors of the greek text in the sixteenth century, robert estienne (stephanus) and theodore beza, did little to castigate it, although one of the codices used by beza, and now known by his name, is of great value. [sidenote: hebrew text] the hebrew massoretic text of the old testament was printed by gerson ben mosheh at brescia in , and far more elaborately in the first four volumes of the complutensian polyglot. with the hebrew text the spanish editors offered the septuagint greek, the syriac, and the vulgate, the hebrew, syriac and greek having latin translations. the manuscripts for the hebrew were procured from rome. a critical revision was undertaken by sebastian münster and published with a new latin version at basle - . later recensions do not call for special notice here. an incomplete text of the syriac new testament was published at antwerp in . [sidenote: latin versions] the numerous new latin translations made during { } this period testify to the general discontent with the vulgate. not only humanists like valla, lefèvre and erasmus, but perfectly orthodox theologians like pope nicholas v, cajetan and sadoletus, saw that the common version could be much improved. in the new latin translation by erasmus many of the errors of the vulgate were corrected. thus, in matthew iii, , he offers "resipiscite" or "ad mentem redite" instead of "poenitentiam agite." this, as well as his substitution of "sermo" for "verbum" in john i, , was fiercely assailed. indeed, when it was seen what use was made by the protestants of the new greek texts and of the new latin versions, of which there were many, a strong reaction followed in favor of the traditional text. even by the editors of the complutensian polyglot the vulgate was regarded with such favor that, being printed between the hebrew and greek, it was compared by them to christ crucified between the two thieves. [sidenote: ] the sorbonne condemned as "lutheran" the assertion that the bible could not be properly understood or expounded without knowledge of the original languages. [sidenote: april , ] in the decree of trent the vulgate was declared to be the authentic form of the scriptures. the preface to the english catholic version printed at rheims [sidenote: ] defends the thesis, now generally held by catholics, that the latin text is superior in accuracy to the greek, having been corrected by jerome, preserved by the church and sanctioned by the council of trent. [sidenote: ] in order to have this text in its utmost purity an official edition was issued. [sidenote: biblical scholarship] modern critics, having far surpassed the results achieved by their predecessors, are inclined to underestimate their debts to these pioneers in the field. the manuals, encyclopaedias, commentaries, concordances, special lexicons, all that make an introduction to biblical criticism so easy nowadays, were lacking then, or { } were supplied only by the labor of a life-time. the professors at wittenberg, after prolonged inquiry, were unable to find a map of palestine. the first hebrew concordance was printed, with many errors, at venice in ; the first greek concordance not until , at basle. to find a parallel passage or illustrative material or ancient comment on a given text, the critic then had to search through dusty tomes and manuscripts, instead of finding them accumulated for him in ready reference books. that all this has been done is the work of ten generations of scholars, among whom the pioneers of the renaissance should not lack their due meed of honor. the early critics were hampered by a vicious inherited method. the schoolmen, with purely dogmatic interest, had developed a hopeless and fantastic exegesis, by which every text of scripture was given a fourfold sense, the historical, allegorical, tropological (or figurative) and anagogical (or didactic). [sidenote: erasmus] erasmus, under the tuition of valla, felt his way to a more fruitful method. it is true that his main object was a moral one, the overthrow of superstition and the establishment of the gentle "philosophy of christ." he used the allegorical method only, or chiefly, to explain away as fables stories that would seem silly or obscene as history. in the new testament he sought the man jesus and not the deified christ. he preferred the new testament, with its "simple, plain and gentle truth, without savor of superstition or cruelty" to the old testament. he discriminated nicely even among the books of the new testament, considering the chief ones the gospels, acts, the pauline epistles (except hebrews), i peter and i john. he hinted that many did not consider the apocalypse canonical; he found ephesians pauline in thought but not in style; he believed hebrews to have { } been written by clement of rome; and he called james lacking in apostolic dignity. [sidenote: luther] by far the best biblical criticism of the century was the mature work of martin luther. it is a remarkable fact that a man whose doctrine of the binding authority of scripture was so high, and who refused his disciples permission to interpret the text with the least shade of independence, should himself have shown a freedom in the treatment of the inspired writers unequaled in any christian for the next three centuries. it is sometimes said that luther's judgments were mere matters of taste; that he took what he liked and rejected what he disliked, and this is true to a certain extent. "what treats well of christ, that is scripture, even if judas and pilate had written it," he averred, and again, "if our adversaries urge the bible against christ, we must urge christ against the bible." his wish to exclude the epistle of james from the canon, on the ground that its doctrine of justification contradicted that of paul, was thus determined, and excited wide protest not only from learned catholics like sir thomas more, but also from many protestants, beginning with bullinger. but luther's trenchant judgments of the books of the bible were usually far more than would be implied by a merely dogmatic interest. together with the best scholarship of the age he had a strong intuitive feeling for style that guided him aright in many cases. in denying the mosaic authorship of a part of the pentateuch, in asserting that job and jonah were fables, in finding that the books of kings were more credible than chronicles and that the books of isaiah, jeremiah, hosea, proverbs and ecclesiastes had received their final form from later editors, he but advanced theses now universally accepted. his doubts about esther, hebrews, and the apocalypse have been amply { } confirmed. some modern scholars agree with his most daring opinion, that the epistle of james was written by "some jew who had heard of the christians but not joined them." after luther the voluminous works of the commentators are a dreary desert of arid dogmatism and fantastic pedantry. carlstadt was perhaps the second best of the higher critics of the time; zwingli was conservative; calvin's exegesis slumbers in fifty volumes in deserved neglect. [sidenote: german version] among the great vernacular protestant versions of the bible that of luther stands first in every sense of the word. long he had meditated on it before his enforced retirement at the wartburg gave him the leisure to begin it. the work of revision, in which luther had much help from melanchthon and other wittenberg professors, was a life-long labor. only recently have the minutes of the meetings of these scholars come to light, and they testify to the endless trouble taken by the reformer to make his work clear and accurate. he wrote no dialect, but a common, standard german which he believed to have been introduced by the saxon chancery. but he also modelled his style not only on the few good german authors then extant, but on the speech of the market-place. from the mouths of the people he took the sweet, common words that he gave back to them again, "so that they may note that we are speaking german to them." spirit and fire he put into the german bible; dramatic turns of phrase, lofty eloquence, poetry. all too much luther read his own ideas into the bible. to make moses "so german that no one would know that he was a jew" insured a noble style, but involved an occasional violent wrench to the thought. thus the psalms are made to speak of christ quite plainly, and of german may-festivals; and the passover is metamorphosed into easter. is there not even { } an allusion to the golden rose given by the pope in the translation of micah iv, ?--"und du thurm eder, eine feste der tochter zion, es wird deine goldene rose kommen." luther declared his intention of "simply throwing away" any text repugnant to the rest of scripture, as he conceived it. as a matter of fact the greatest change that he actually made was the introduction of the word "alone" after "faith" in the passage (romans iii, ) "a man is justified by faith without works of the law." luther never used the word "church" (kirche), in the bible, but replaced it by "congregation" (gemeinde). following erasmus he turned [greek] _metanoieite_ (matthew iii, , ) into "bessert euch" ("improve yourselves") instead of "tut busse" ("do penance") as in the older german versions. also, following the erasmian text, he omitted the "comma johanneum" (i john v, ); this was first insinuated into the german bible in . [sidenote: english bible] none of the other vernacular versions, not even the french translation of lefèvre and olivetan can compare with the german save one, the english. how william tyndale began and how coverdale completed the work in , has been told on another page. many revisions followed: the great bible of , the geneva bible of and the bishops' bible of . then came the catholic, or douai version of , the only one completely differing from the others, with its foundation on the vulgate and its numerous barbarisms: "parasceue" for "preparation," "feast of azymes" for "feast of unleavened bread," "imposing of hands," "what to me and thee, woman" (john ii, ), "penance," "chalice," "host," "against the spirituals of wickedness in the celestials" (ephesians vi, ), "supersubstantial bread" in the lord's prayer, "he exinanited himself" (philippians ii, ). we are accustomed to speak of the authorized version { } of as if it were a new product of the literary genius of shakespeare's age. in fact, it was a mere revision, and a rather light one, of previous work. its rare perfection of form is due to the labors of many men manipulating and polishing the same material. like the homeric poems, like the greek gospels themselves probably, the greatest english classic is the product of the genius of a race and not of one man. even from the very beginning it was such to some extent. tyndale could hardly have known wyclif's version, which was never printed and was rare in manuscript, but his use of certain words, such as "mote," "beam," and "strait gate," also found in the earlier version, prove that he was already working in a literary tradition, one generation handing down to another certain scriptural phrases first heard in the mouths of the lollards. both tyndale and coverdale borrowed largely from the german interpreters, as was acknowledged on the title-page and in the prologue to the bible of . thus tyndale copied not only most of the marginal notes of luther's bible, but also such teutonisms as, "this is once bone of my bone," "they offered unto field-devils" (luther, "felt-teuffem"), "blessed is the room-maker, gad" (luther, "raum-macher"). the english translators also followed the german in using "elder" frequently for "priest," "congregation" for "church," and "love" for "charity." by counting every instance of this and similar renderings, sir thomas more claimed to have found one thousand errors in the new testament alone. [sidenote: popularity of bible] the astounding popularity of the bible, chiefly but not only in protestant countries, is witnessed by a myriad voices. probably in all christian countries in every age it has been the most read book, but in the sixteenth century it added to an unequaled reputation { } for infallibility the zest of a new discovery. edward vi demanding the bible at his coronation, elizabeth passionately kissing it at hers, were but types of the time. that joyous princess of the renaissance, isabella d'este, ordered a new translation of the psalms for her own perusal. margaret of navarre, in the introduction to her frivolous _heptameron_, expresses the pious hope that all present have read the scripture. hundreds of editions of the german and english translations were called for. the people, wrote an englishman in , "have now in every church and place, almost every man, the bible and new testament in their mother tongue, instead of the old fabulous and fantastical books of the table round . . . and such other whose impure filth and vain fabulosity the light of god hath abolished there utterly." in protestant lands it became almost a matter of good form to own the bible, and reading it has been called, not ineptly, "the _opus operatum_ of the evangelicals." even the catholics bore witness to the demand, which they tried to check. while they admonished the laity that it was unnecessary and dangerous to taste of this tree of knowledge, while they even curtailed the reading of the scripture by the clergy, they were forced to supply vernacular versions of their own. [sidenote: bibliolatry] along with unbounded popularity the bible then enjoyed a much higher reputation for infallibility than it bears today. the one point on which all protestant churches were agreed was the supremacy and sufficiency of scripture. the word, said calvin, flowed from the very mouth of god himself; it was the sole foundation of faith and the one fountain of all wisdom. "what christ says must be true whether i or any other man can understand it," preached luther. "scripture is fully to be believed," wrote an english theologian, "as a thing necessary to salvation, though { } the thing contained in scripture pertain not merely to the faith, as that aaron had a beard." the swiss and the anabaptists added their voices to this chorus of bibliolatry. [sidenote: _abeunt studia in mores_] since studies pass into character, it is natural to find a marked effect from this turning loose of a new source of spiritual authority. that thousands were made privately better, wiser and happier from the reading of the gospels and the hebrew poetry, that standards of morality were raised and ethical tastes purified thereby, is certain. but the same cause had several effects that were either morally indifferent or positively bad. the one chiefly noticed by contemporaries was the pullulation of new sects. each man, as luther complained, interpreted the holy book according to his own brain and crazy reason. the old saying that the bible was the book of heretics, came true. it was in vain for the reformers to insist that none but the ministers (_i.e._ themselves) had the right to interpret scripture. it was in vain for the governments to forbid, as the scotch statute expressed it, "any to dispute or hold opinions on the bible"; [sidenote: ] discordant clamor of would-be expounders arose, some learned, others ignorant, others fantastic, and all pig-headed and intolerant. there can be no doubt that the bible, in proportion to the amount of inerrancy attributed to it, became a stumbling-block in the path of progress, scientific, social and even moral. it was quoted against copernicus as it was against darwin. rational biblical criticism was regarded by luther, except when he was the critic, as a cause of vehement suspicion of atheism. some texts buttressed the horrible and cruel superstition of witchcraft. the examples of the wars of israel and the text, "compel them to enter in," seemed to support the duty of intolerance. social reformers, like { } vives, in their struggle to abolish poverty, were confronted with the maxim, mistaken as an eternal verity, that the poor are always with us. finally the great moral lapse of many of the protestants, the permission of polygamy, was supported by biblical texts. [sidenote: the classics] next to the bible the sixteenth century revered the classics. most of the great latin authors had been printed prior to , the most important exception being the _annals_ of tacitus, of which the _editio princeps_ was in . between the years and , the following greek works had been published, and in this order: aesop, homer, isocrates, theocritus, the anthology, four plays of euripides, aristotle, theognis, and nine plays of aristophanes. follow the dates of the _editiones principes_ of the other principal greek writers: : thucydides, sophocles, herodotus. : euripides (eighteen plays), xenophon's _hellenica_. : demosthenes. : plutarch's _moralia_. : pindar, plato. : aristophanes, new testament, xenophon, pausanias, strabo. : plutarch's _lives_. : septuagint, aeschylus, four plays. : galen, xenophon's complete works. : epictetus. : polybius. : aristophanes, eleven plays. : euclid, ptolemy. : josephus. : aeschylus, seven plays. : marcus aurelius. : diodorus. : bion and moschus. : plutarch's complete works. naturally the first editions were not usually the best. { } [sidenote: scholarship] the labor of successive generations has made the text what it is. good work, particularly, though not exclusively, in editing the fathers of the church, was done by erasmus. but a really new school of historical criticism was created by joseph justus scaliger, [sidenote: j. j. scaliger, - ] the greatest of scholars. his editions of the latin poets first laid down and applied sound rules of textual emendation, besides elucidating the authors with a wealth of learned comment. the editing of the texts was but a small portion of the labor that went to the cultivation of the classics. the foundations of our modern lexicons were laid in the great _thesaurus linguae latinae_ of robert estienne (first edition , d improved , d in three volumes ) and the _thesauris linguae graecae_ by henry estienne the younger, published in five volumes in . this latter is still used, the best edition being that in nine volumes - . so much of ancient learning has become a matter of course to the modern student that he does not always realize the amount of ground covered in the last four centuries. erasmus once wrote to cardinal grimani: [sidenote: november , ] "the roman capitol, to which the ancient poets vainly promised eternity, has so completely disappeared that its very location cannot be pointed out." if one of the greatest scholars then was ignorant of a site now visited by every tourist in the eternal city, how much must there not have been to learn in other respects? devotedly and successfully the contemporaries and successors of erasmus labored to supply the knowledge then wanting. latin, greek and hebrew grammars were written, treatises on roman coinage, on epigraphy, on ancient religion, on chronology, on comparative philology, on roman law, laid deep and strong the foundations of the consummate scholarship of modern times. { } [sidenote: idolatry of ancients] the classics were not only studied in the sixteenth century, they were loved, they were even worshipped. "every elegant study, every science worthy of the attention of an educated man, in a word, whatever there is of polite learning," wrote the french savant muret, [sidenote: ] "is contained nowhere save in the literature of the greeks." joachim du bellay wrote a cycle of sonnets on the antiquities of rome, in the spirit: rome fut tout le monde, et tout le monde est rome. "the latin allureth me by its gracious dignity," wrote montaigne, "and the writings of the greeks not only fill and satisfy me, but transfix me with admiration. . . . what glory can compare with that of homer?" machiavelli tells how he dressed each evening in his best attire to be worthy to converse with the spirits of the ancients, and how, while reading them, he forgot all the woes of life and the terror of death. almost all learned works, and a great many not learned, were written in latin. for those who could not read the classics for themselves translations were supplied. perhaps the best of these were the _lives of famous men_ by plutarch, first rendered into french by amyot and thence into english by sir thomas north. [sidenote: value of classics in th century] strong, buoyant, self-confident as was the spirit of the age, it bore plainly upon it the impress of its zealous schooling in the lore of the ancients. in supplying the imperious need of cultured men for good literature the romans and greeks had, in the year , but few rivals--save in italy, hardly any. to an age that had much to learn they had much to teach; to men as greedy for the things of the mind as they were for luxury and wealth the classics offered a new world as rich in spoils of wisdom and beauty as were the east indies and { } peru in spices and gold. the supreme value of the greek and latin books is that which they have in common with all literature; they furnished, for the mass of reading men, the best and most copious supply of food for the intellectual and spiritual life. "books," says erasmus, "are both cheering and wholesome. in prosperity they steady one, in affliction console, do not vary with fortune and follow one through all dangers even to the grave. . . . what wealth or what scepters would i exchange for my tranquil reading?" "from my earliest childhood," montaigne confides, "poetry has had the power to pierce me through and transport me." in the best sense of the word, books are popular philosophy. all cannot study the deepest problems of life or of science for themselves, but all can absorb the quintessence of thought in the pleasant and stimulating form in which it is served up in the best literature. books accustom men to take pleasure in ideas and to cultivate a high and noble inward life. this, their supreme value for the moulding of character, was appreciated in the sixteenth century. "we must drink the spirit of the classics," observes montaigne, "rather than learn their precepts," and again, "the use to which i put my studies is a practical one--the formation of character for the exigencies of life." [sidenote: ancient masters of literary style] this is the service by which the ancients have put the moderns in their debt. another gift of distinct, though lesser value, was that of literary style. so close is the correspondence between expression and thought that it is no small advantage to any man or to any age to sit at the feet of those supreme masters of the art of saying things well, the greeks. the danger here was from literal imitation. erasmus, with habitual wit, ridiculed the ciceronian who spent years in constructing sentences that might have been written { } by his master, who speaks of jehovah as jupiter and of christ as cecrops or iphigenia, and who transmutes the world around him into a roman empire with tribunes and augurs, consuls and allies. it is significant that the english word "pedant" was coined in the sixteenth century. what the classics had to teach directly was not only of less value than their indirect influence, but was often positively harmful. those who, intoxicated with the pagan spirit, sought to regulate their lives by the moral standards of the poets, fell into the same error, though into the opposite vices, as those who deified the letter of the bible. like the bible the classics were, and are, to some extent obstacles to the march of science, and this not only because they take men's interest from the study of nature, but because most ancient philosophers from the time of socrates spoke contemptuously of natural experiment and discovery as things of little or no value to the soul. if for the finer spirits of the age a classical education furnished a noble instrument of culture, for all too many it was prized simply as a badge of superiority. among a people that stands in awe of learning--and this is more true of europe than of america and was more true of the sixteenth than it is of the twentieth century--a classical education offers a man exceptional facilities for delicately impressing inferiors with their crudity. [sidenote: vernaculars] the period that marked high water in the estimation of the classics, also saw the turn of the tide. in all countries the vernacular crowded the classics ever backward from the field. the conscious cultivation of the modern tongues was marked by the publication of new dictionaries and by various works such as john bale's history of english literature, written itself, to be sure, in latin. the finest work of the kind was { } joachim du bellay's _défence et illustration de la langue française_ published in as part of a concerted effort to raise french as a vehicle of poetry and prose to a level with the classics. this was done partly by borrowing from latin. one of the characteristic words of the sixteenth century, "patrie," was thus formally introduced. section . history for the examination of the interests and temper of a given era, hardly any better gauge can be found than the history it produced. in the period under consideration there were two great schools, or currents, of historiography, the humanistic, sprung from the renaissance, and church history, the child of the reformation. [sidenote: humanistic school of historiography] the devotees of the first illustrate most aptly what has just been said about the influence of the classics. their supreme interest was style, generally latin. to clothe a chronicle in the toga of livy's periods, to deck it out with the rhetoric of sallust and to stitch on a few antitheses and epigrams in the manner of tacitus, seemed to them the height of art. their choice of matter was as characteristic as their manner, in that their interest was exclusively political and aristocratic. save the doings of courts and camps, the political intrigues of governments and the results of battles, together with the virtues and vices of the rulers, they saw little in history. what the people thought, felt and suffered, was beyond their purview. nor did most of them have much interest in art, science or literature, or even in religion. when george buchanan, a man in the thick of the scottish reformation, who drafted the _book of articles_, came to write the history of his own time, he was so obsessed with the desire to imitate the ancient romans that he hardly mentioned the { } religious controversy at all. one sarcasm on the priests who thought the _new_ testament was written by luther, and demanded their good old testament back again, two brief allusions to knox, and a few other passing references are all of the reformation that comes into a bulky volume dealing with the reigns of james v and mary stuart. his interest in political liberty, his conception of the struggle as one between tyranny and freedom, might appear modern were it not so plainly rooted in antique soil. the prevailing vice of the humanists--to see in the story of a people nothing but a political lesson--is carried to its extreme by machiavelli. [sidenote: machiavelli] writing with all the charm that conquers time, this theorist altered facts to suit his thesis to the point of composing historical romances. his _life of castruccio_ is as fictitious and as didactic as xenophon's _cyropaedia_; his _commentary on livy_ is as much a treatise on politics as is _the prince_; the _history of florence_ is but slightly hampered by the events. [sidenote: guicciardini] if guicciardini's interest in politics is not less exclusive than that of his compatriot, he is vastly superior as a historian to the older man in that, whereas machiavelli deduced history _a priori_ from theory, guicciardini had a real desire to follow the inductive method of deriving his theory from an accurate mastery of the facts. with superb analytical reasoning he presents his data, marshals them and draws from them the conclusions they will bear. the limitation that vitiates many of his deductions is his taking into account only low and selfish motives. before idealists he stands helpless; he leaves the reader uncertain whether savonarola was a prophet or an extremely astute politician. [sidenote: jovius] the advance that paul jovius marks over the florentines lies in the appeal that he made to the { } interests of the general public. history had hitherto been written for the greater glory of a patron or at most of a city; jovius saw that the most generous patron of genius must henceforth be the average reader. it is true that he despised the public for whom he wrote, stuffing them with silly anecdotes. both as the first great interviewer and reporter for the history of his own times, and in paying homage to mrs. grundy by assuming an air of virtue not natural to him, he anticipated the modern journalist. [sidenote: polydore vergil] so much more modern in point of view than his contemporaries was polydore vergil--whose _english history_ appeared in --that the generalizations about humanist historiography are only partially true of him. though his description of land and people is perhaps modelled on herodotus, it shows a genuine interest in the life of the common man, even of the poor. he noted the geography, climate and fauna of the island; his eyes saw london bridge with its rows of shops on either side, and they admired the parks full of game, the apple orchards, the fat hens and pheasants, the ploughs drawn by mixed teams of horses and oxen; he even observed the silver salt-cellars, spoons and cups used by the poor, and their meals of meat. his description of the people as brave, hospitable and very religious is as true now as it was then. with an antiquary's interest in old manuscripts vergil combined a philosopher's skepticism of old legends. this italian, though his patron was henry viii, balanced english and french authorities and told the truth even in such delicate matters as the treatment of joan of arc. political history was for him still the most important, although to one branch of it, constitutional history, he was totally blind. so were almost all englishmen then, even shakespeare, whose _king john_ contains no allusion to magna charta. in his work _on the inventors { } of things_ vergil showed the depth of his insight into the importance in history of culture and ideas. while his treatment of such subjects as the origin of myths, man, marriage, religion, language, poetry, drama, music, sciences and laws is unequal to his purpose, the intention itself bears witness to a new and fruitful spirit. [sidenote: french memoirs] neither france nor england nor germany produced historians equal to those of italian or of scottish birth. france was the home of the memoir, personal, chatty, spicy and unphilosophic. those of blaise de montluc are purely military, those of brantôme are mostly scandalous. martin du bellay tried to impart a higher tone to his reminiscences, while with hotman a school of pamphleteers arose to yoke history with political theory. john bodin attempted without much success the difficult task of writing a philosophy of history. his chief contribution was the theory of geography and climate as determinant influences. [sidenote: english chronicles] it is hard to see any value, save occasionally as sources, in the popular english chronicles of edward hall, raphael hollinshed and john stow. full of court gossip and of pageantry, strongly royalist, conservative and patriotic, they reflect the interests of the middle-class cockney as faithfully as does a certain type of newspaper and magazine today. [sidenote: biographies] the biography and autobiography were cultivated with considerable success. jovius and brantôme both wrote series of lives of eminent men and women. though the essays of erasmus in this direction are both few and brief, they are notable as among the most exquisite pen-portraits in literature. more ambitious and more notable were the _lives of the best painters, sculptors and architects_ by george vasari, in which the whole interest was personal and practical, with no attempt to write a history or a philosophy of art. even criticism was confined almost entirely to { } variations of praise. in the realm of autobiography benvenuto cellini attained to the _non plus ultra_ of self-revelation. if he discloses the springs of a rare artistic genius, with equal naïvete he lays bare a ruffianly character and a colossal egotism. [sidenote: church history] one immense field of human thought and action had been all but totally ignored by the humanist historians--that of religion. to cultivate this field a new genre, church history, sprang into being, though the felt want was not then for a rational explanation of important and neglected phenomena, but for material which each side in the religious controversy might forge into weapons to use against the other. the natural result of so practical a purpose was that history was studied through colored spectacles, and was interpreted with strong tendency. in the most honest hands, such as those of sleidan, the scale was unconsciously weighted on one side; by more passionate or less honorable advocates it was deliberately lightened with suppression of the truth on one side and loaded with suggestion of the false on the other. if the mutual animosity of catholic and protestant narrowed history, their common detestation of all other religions than christianity, as well as of all heresies and skepticisms, probably impoverished it still more. orthodox christianity, with its necessary preparation, ancient judaism, was set apart as divinely revealed over against all other faiths and beliefs, which at best were "the beastly devices of the heathen" and at worst the direct inspiration of the devils. few were the men who, like erasmus, could compare christ with socrates, plato and seneca; fewer still those who could say with franck, "heretic is a title of honor, for truth is always called heresy." the names of marcion and pelagius, epicurus and mahomet, excited a passion of hatred hardly comprehensible to us. the { } refutation of the koran issued under luther's auspices would have been ludicrous had it not been pitiful. in large part this vicious interpretation of history was bequeathed to the reformers by the middle ages. as augustine set the city of god over against the city of destruction, so the protestant historians regarded the human drama as a puppet show in which god and the devil pulled the strings. institutions of which they disapproved, such as the papacy and monasticism, were thought to be adequately explained by the suggestion of their satanic origin. a thin, wan line of witnesses passed the truth down, like buckets of water at a fire, from its source in the apostolic age to the time of the writer. even with such handicaps to weigh it down, the study of church history did much good. a vast body of new sources were uncovered and ransacked. the appeal to an objective standard slowly but surely forced its lesson on the litigants before the bar of truth. writing under the eye of vigilant critics one cannot forever suppress or distort inconvenient facts. the critical dagger, at first sharpened only to stab an enemy, became a scalpel to cut away many a foreign growth. with larger knowledge came, though slowly, fairer judgment and deeper human interest. in these respects there was vast difference between the individual writers. to condemn them all to the malebolge deserved only by the worst is undiscriminating. [sidenote: _magdeburg centuries_, - ] among the most industrious and the most biassed must certainly be numbered matthew flacius illyricus and his collaborators in producing the _magdeburg centuries_, a vast history of the church to the year , which aimed at making protestant polemic independent of catholic sources. save for the accumulation of much material it deserves no praise. its critical principles are worse than none, for its only criterion of { } sources is as they are pro- or anti-papal. the latter are taken and the former left. miracles are not doubted as such, but are divided into two classes, those tending to prove an accepted doctrine which are true, and those which support some papal institution which are branded as "first-class lies." the correspondence between christ and king abgarus is used as not having been proved a forgery, and the absurd legend of the female pope joan is never doubted. the psychology of the authors is as bad as their criticism. all opposition to the pope, especially that of the german emperors, is represented as caused by religion. [sidenote: _annales_ of baronius, - ] however poor was the work of the authors of the magdeburg centuries, they were at least honest in arraying their sources. this is more than can be said of caesar baronius, whose _annales ecclesiastici_ was the official catholic counterblast to the protestant work. whereas his criticism is no whit better than theirs, he adopted the cunning policy, unfortunately widely obtaining since his day, of simply ignoring or suppressing unpleasant facts, rather than of refuting the inferences drawn from them. his talent for switching the attention to a side-issue, and for tangling instead of clearing problems, made the protestants justly regard him as "a great deceiver" though even the most learned of them, j. j. scaliger, who attempted to refute him, found the work difficult. naturally the battle of the historians waxed hottest over the reformation itself. a certain class of protestant works, of which crespin's _book of martyrs_, [sidenote: ] beza's _ecclesiastical history_ [sidenote: ] and john foxe's _acts and monuments_ (first english edition, ), are examples, catered to the passions of the multitude by laying the stress of their presentation on the heroism and sufferings of the witnesses to the faith and the cruelty of the persecutors. for many men the { } detailed description of isolated facts has a certain "thickness" of reality--if i may borrow william james's phrase--that is found by more complex minds only in the deduction of general causes. passionate, partisan and sometimes ribald, foxe [sidenote: foxe] won the reward that waits on demagogues. when it came to him as an afterthought to turn his book of martyrs into a general history, he plagiarized the _magdeburg centuries_. the reliability of his original narrative has been impugned with some success, though it has not been fully or impartially investigated. much of it being drawn from personal recollection or from unpublished records, its solo value consists for us in its accuracy. i have compared a small section of the work with the manuscript source used by foxe and have made the rather surprising discovery that though there are wide variations, none of them can be referred to partisan bias or to any other conceivable motive. in this instance, which is too small to generalize, it is possible that foxe either had supplementary information, or that he wrote from a careless memory. in any case his work must be used with caution. [sidenote: knox] much superior to the work of foxe was john knox's _history of the reformation of religion within the realm of scotland_ (written - ). in style it is rapid, with a rare gift for seizing the essential and a no less rare humor and command of sarcasm. its intention to be "a faithful rehearsal of such personages as god has made instruments of his glory," though thus equivocally stated, is carried out in an honorable sense. it is true that the writer never harbored a doubt that john knox himself was the chiefest instrument of god's glory, nor that "the roman kirk is the synagogue of satan and the head thereof, called the pope, that man of sin of whom the apostle speaketh." if, in such an avowed apology, one does not get impartiality, { } neither is one misled by expecting it. knox's honor consists only in this that, as a party pamphleteer, he did not falsify or suppress essential facts as he understood them himself. [sidenote: bullinger] in glaring contrast to knox's obtrusive bias, is the fair appearance of impartiality presented in henry bullinger's _history of the reformation_ - . here, too, we meet with excellent composition, but with a studied moderation of phrase. it is probable that the author's professions of fairness are sincere, though at times the temptation to omit recording unedifying facts, such as the sacramentarian schism, is too strong for him. [sidenote: sleidan] before passing judgment on anything it is necessary to know it at its best. probably john sleidan's _religious and political history of the reign of charles v_ [sidenote: ] was the best work on the german reformation written before the eighteenth century. bossuet was more eloquent and acute, seckendorf more learned, gilbert burnet had better perspective, but, none of these writers was better informed than sleidan, or as objective. for the first and only time he really combined the two genres then obtaining, the humanistic and the ecclesiastical. he is not blind to some of the cultural achievements of the reformation. one of the things for which he praises luther most is for ornamenting and enriching the german language. sleidan's faults are those of his age. he dared not break the old stiff division of the subject by years. he put in a number of insignificant facts, such as the flood of the tiber and the explosion of ammunition dumps, nor was he above a superstitious belief in the effects of eclipses and in monsters. he cited documents broadly and on the whole fairly, but not with painstaking accuracy. he offered nothing on the causes leading up to the reformation, nor on the course of the development of { } protestantism, nor on the characters of its leaders nor on the life and thought of the people. but he wrote fluently, acceptably to his public, and temperately. on the whole, save for baronius, the catholics had less to offer of notable histories than had the protestants. a _succès de scandale_ was won by nicholas sanders' [sidenote: sanders ] _origin and progress of the english schism_. among the nasty bits of gossip with which "dr. slanders," as he was called, delighted to regale his audience, some are absurd, such as that anne boleyn was henry viii's daughter. as the books from which he says he took these anecdotes are not extant, it is impossible to gauge how far he merely copied from others and how far he gave rein to his imagination. [sidenote: loyola] the one brilliant bit of catholic church history that was written in the sixteenth century is the autobiography of ignatius loyola, dictated by him to lewis gonzalez [sidenote: - ] and taken down partly in spanish and partly in italian. the great merit of this narrative is its insight into the author's own character gained by long years of careful self-observation. its whole emphasis is psychological, on the inner struggle and not on the outward manifestations of saintliness, such as visions. it was taken over in large part verbatim in ribadeneira's biography of loyola. compared to it, all other attempts at ecclesiastical biography in the sixteenth century, notably the lives of luther by the catholic cochlaeus and by the protestant mathesius, lag far in the dusty rear. section . political theory [sidenote: premises] the great era of the state naturally shone in political thought. though there was some scientific investigation of social and economic laws, thought was chiefly conditioned by the new problems to be faced. from the long medieval dream of a universal empire { } and a universal church, men awoke to find themselves in the presence of new entities, created, to be sure, by their own spirits, but all unwittingly. one of these was the national state, whose essence was power and the law of whose life was expansion to the point of meeting equal or superior force. no other factor in history, not even religion, has produced so many wars as has the clash of national egotisms sanctified by the name of patriotism. within the state the shift of sovereignty from the privileged orders to the bourgeoisie necessitated the formulation of a new theory. it was the triumph, with the rich, of the monarchy and of the parliaments, that pointed the road of some publicists to a doctrine of the divine right of kings, and others to a distinctly republican conclusions. there were even a few egalitarians who claimed for all classes a democratic régime. and, thirdly, the reformation gave a new turn to the old problem of the relationship of church and state. it was on premises gathered from these three phenomena that the publicists of that age built a dazzling structure of political thought. [sidenote: machiavelli, - ] it was chiefly the first of these problems that absorbed the attention of nicholas machiavelli, the most brilliant, the most studied and the most abused of political theorists. as between monarchy and a republic he preferred, on the whole, the former, as likely to be the stronger, but he clearly saw that where economic equality prevailed political equality was natural and inevitable. the masses, he thought, desired only security of person and property, and would adhere to either form of government that offered them the best chance of these. for republic and monarchy alike machiavelli was ready to offer maxims of statecraft, those for the former embodied in his _discourses on livy_, those for the latter in his _prince_. in erecting a new science of statecraft, by which a people might { } arrive at supreme dominion, machiavelli's great merit is that he looked afresh at the facts and discarded the old, worn formulas of the schoolmen; his great defect is that he set before his mind as a premise an abstract "political man" as far divorced from living, breathing, complex reality as the "economic man" of ricardo. men, he thought, are always the same, governed by calculable motives of self-interest. in general, he thought, men are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly and covetous, to be ruled partly by an appeal to their greed, but chiefly by fear. [sidenote: politics divorced from morality] realist as he professed to be, machiavelli divorced politics from morality. whereas for aristotle[ ] and aquinas alike the science of politics is a branch of ethics, for machiavelli it is an abstract science as totally dissociated from morality as is mathematics or surgery. the prince, according to machiavelli, should appear to be merciful, faithful, humane, religious and upright, but should be able to act otherwise without the least scruple when it is to his advantage to do so. his heroes are ferdinand of aragon, "a prince who always preaches good faith but never practises it," and caesar borgia, "who did everything that can be done by a prudent and virtuous man; so that no better precepts can be offered to a new prince than those suggested by the example of his actions." what the florentine publicist especially admired in caesar's statecraft were some examples of consummate perfidy and violence which he had the opportunity of observing at first hand. machiavelli made a sharp distinction between private and public virtue. the former he professed to regard as binding on the individual, as it was necessary to the public good. it is noteworthy that this advocate of all hypocrisy and guile { } and violence on the part of the government was in his own life gentle, affectionate and true to trust. [sidenote: public vs. private life] religion machiavelli regarded as a valuable instrument of tyranny, but he did not hold the view, attributed by gibbon to roman publicists, that all religions, though to the philosopher equally false, were to the statesman equally useful. christianity he detested, not so much as an exploded superstition, as because he saw in it theoretically the negation of those patriotic, military virtues of ancient rome, and because practically the papacy had prevented the union of italy. naturally machiavelli cherished the army as the prime interest of the state. in advocating a national militia with universal training of citizens he anticipated the conscript armies of the nineteenth century. this writer, speaking the latent though unavowed ideals of an evil generation of public men, was rewarded by being openly vilified and secretly studied. he became the manual of statesmen and the bugbear of moralists. while catharine de' medici, thomas cromwell and francis bacon chewed, swallowed and digested his pages, the dramatist had only to put in a sneer or an abusive sarcasm at the expense of the florentine--and there were very many such allusions to him on the elizabethan stage--to be sure of a round of applause from the audience. while machiavelli found few open defenders, efforts to refute him were numerous. when reginald pole said that his works were written by the evil one a chorus of jesuits sang amen and the church put his writings on the index. the huguenots were not less vociferous in opposition. among them innocent gentillet attacked not only his morals but his talent, saying that his maxims were drawn from an observation of small states only, and that his judgment of the policy suitable to large nations was of the poorest. { } it is fair to try _the prince_ by the author's own standards. he did not purpose, in bacon's phrase, to describe what men ought to be but what they actually are; he put aside ethical ideas not as false but as irrelevant. but this rejection was fatal even to his own purpose, "for what he put aside . . . were nothing less than the living forces by which societies subsist and governments are strong." [ ] calvin succeeded where the florentine failed, as lord morley points out, because he put the moral ideal first. [sidenote: erasmus] the most striking contrast to machiavelli was not forthcoming from the camp of the reformers, but from that of the northern humanists, erasmus and more. the _institution of a christian prince_, by the dutch scholar, is at the antipodes of the italian thesis. virtue is inculcated as the chief requisite of a prince, who can be considered good only in proportion as he fosters the wealth and the education of his people. he should levy no taxes, if possible, but should live parsimoniously off his own estate. he should never make war, save when absolutely necessary, even against the infidel, and should negotiate only such treaties as have for their principal object the prevention of armed conflict. still more noteworthy than his moral postulates, is erasmus's preference for the republican form of government. in the _christian prince_, dedicated as it was to the emperor, he spoke as if kings might and perhaps ought to be elected, but in his _adages_ he interpreted the spirit of the ancients in a way most disparaging to monarchy. considering how carefully this work was studied by promising youths at the impressionable age, it is not too much to regard it as one of the main sources of the marked republican current of thought throughout the century. under the heading, "fools { } and kings are born such," he wrote: "in all history, ancient and recent, you will scarcely find in the course of several centuries one or two princes, who, by their signal folly, did not bring ruin on humanity." in another place, after a similar remark, he continues: i know not whether much of this is not to be imputed to ourselves. we trust the rudder of a vessel, where a few sailors and some goods alone are in jeopardy, to none but skilful pilots; but the state, wherein is comprised the safety of so many thousands, we leave to the guidance of any chance hands. a charioteer must learn, reflect upon and practice his art; a prince needs only to be born. yet government is the most difficult, as it is the most honorable, of sciences. shall we choose the master of a ship and not choose him who is to have the care of so many cities and so many souls? . . . do we not see that noble cities are erected by the people and destroyed by princes? that a state grows rich by the industry of its citizens and is plundered by the rapacity of its princes? that good laws are enacted by elected magistrates and violated by kings? that the people love peace and the princes foment war? there is far too much to the same purpose to quote, which in all makes a polemic against monarchy not exceeded by the fiercest republicans of the next two generations. it is true that erasmus wrote all this in , and half took it back after the peasants' war. "princes must be endured," he then thought, "lest tyranny give place to anarchy, a still greater evil." [sidenote: reformation] as one of the principal causes of the reformation was the strengthening of national self-consciousness, so conversely one of the most marked results of the movement was the exaltation of the state. the reformation began to realize, though at first haltingly, the separation of church and state, and it endowed the latter with much wealth, with many privileges and with high prerogatives and duties up to that time { } belonging to the former. it is true that all the innovators would have recoiled from bald erastianism, which is not found in the theses of thomas erastus, [sidenote: erastus, - ] but in the free-thinker thomas hobbes. [sidenote: hobbes, - ] whereas the reformers merely said that the state should be charged with the duty of enforcing orthodoxy and punishing sinners, hobbes drew the logical inference that the state was the final authority for determining religious truth. that hobbes's conclusion was only the _reductio ad absurdum_ of the reformation doctrine was hidden from the reformers themselves by their very strong belief in an absolute and ascertainable religious truth. the tendency of both luther and calvin to exalt the state took two divergent forms according to their understanding of what the state was. lutheranism became the ally of absolute monarchy, whereas calvinism had in it a republican element. it is no accident that germany developed a form of government in which a paternal but bureaucratic care of the people supplied the place of popular liberty, whereas america, on the whole the most calvinistic of the great states, carried to its logical conclusion the idea of the rule of the majority. the english reformation was at first lutheran in this respect, but after it began to take the strong calvinistic tendency that led to the commonwealth. [sidenote: luther] while luther cared enormously for social reform, and did valiant service in its cause, he harbored a distrust of the people that grates harshly on modern ears. especially after the excesses of the peasants' war and the extravagance of münzer, he came to believe that "herr omnes" was capable of little good and much evil. "the princes of this world are gods," he once said, "the common people are satan, through whom god sometimes does what at other times he does { } directly through satan, _i.e._, makes rebellion as a punishment for the people's sins." and again: "i would rather suffer a prince doing wrong than a people doing right." passive obedience to the divinely ordained "powers that be" was therefore the sole duty of the subject. "it is in no wise proper for anyone who would be a christian to set himself up against his government, whether it act justly or unjustly," he wrote in . that luther turned to the prince as the representative of the divine majesty in the state is due not only to scriptural authority but to the fact that there was no material for any other form of government to be found in germany. he was no sycophant, nor had he any illusions as to the character of hereditary monarchs. in his _treatise on civil authority_, [sidenote: ] dedicated to his own sovereign, duke john of saxony, he wrote: "since the foundation of the world a wise prince has been a rare bird and a just one much rarer. they are generally the biggest fools and worst knaves on earth, wherefore one must always expect the worst of them and not much good, especially in divine matters." they distinctly have not the right, he adds, to decide spiritual things, but only to enforce the decisions of the christian community. feeling the necessity for some bridle in the mouth of the emperor and finding no warrant for the people to curb him, luther groped for the notion of some legal limitation on the monarch's power. the word "constitution" so familiar to us, was lacking then, but that the idea was present is certain. the german empire had a constitution, largely unwritten but partly statutory. the limitations on the imperial power were then recognized by an italian observer, quirini. [sidenote: ] when they were brought to luther's attention he admitted the right of the german states to resist by force { } imperial acts of injustice contrary to positive laws. moreover, he always maintained that no subject should obey an order directly contravening the law of god. in these limitations on the government's power, slight as they were, were contained the germs of the later calvinistic constitutionalism. [sidenote: reformed church] while many of the reformers--melanchthon, bucer, tyndale--were completely in accord with luther's earlier doctrine of passive obedience, the swiss, french and scotch developed a consistent body of constitutional theory destined to guide the peoples into ordered liberty. doubtless an influence of prime importance in the reformed as distinct from the lutheran church, was the form of ecclesiastical government. congregationalism and presbyterianism are practical object-lessons in democracy. many writers have justly pointed out in the case of america the influence of the vestry in the evolution of the town meeting. in other countries the same cause operated in the same way, giving the british and french protestants ample practice in representative government. [sidenote: zwingli] zwingli asserted that the subject should refuse to act contrary to his faith. from the middle ages he took the doctrine of the identity of spiritual and civil authority, but he also postulated the sovereignty of the people, as was natural in a free-born switzer. in fact, his sympathies were republican through and through. [sidenote: calvin] the clear political thinking of calvin and his followers was in large part the result of the exigencies of their situation. confronted with established power they were forced to defend themselves with pen as well as with sword. in france, especially, the ember of their thought was blown into fierce blaze by the winds of persecution. not only the huguenots took fire, but all their neighbors, until the kingdom of { } france seemed on the point of anticipating the great revolution by two centuries. with the tocsins ringing in his ears, jangling discordantly with the servile doctrines of paul and luther, calvin set to work to forge a theory that should combine liberty with order. carrying a step further than had his masters the separation of civil and ecclesiastical authority, he yet regarded civil government as the most sacred and honorable of all merely human institutions. the form he preferred was an aristocracy, but where monarchy prevailed, calvin was not prepared to recommend its overthrow, save in extreme cases. grasping at luther's idea of constitutional, or contractual, limitations on the royal power, he asserted that the king should be resisted, when he violated his rights, not by private men but by elected magistrates to whom the guardianship of the people's rights should be particularly entrusted. the high respect in which calvin was held, and the clearness and comprehensiveness of his thought made him ultimately the most influential of the protestant publicists. by his doctrine the dutch, english, and american nations were educated to popular sovereignty. [sidenote: french republicans] the seeds of liberty sown by calvin might well have remained long hidden in the ground, had not the soil of france been irrigated with blood and scorched by the tyranny of the last valois. theories of popular rights, which sprang up with the luxuriance of the jungle after the day of st. bartholomew, were already sprouting some years before it. the estates general that met at paris in march, , demanded that the regency be put in the hands of henry of navarre and that the members of the house of lorraine and the chancellor l'hôpital be removed from all offices as not having been appointed by the estates. in august { } of the same year, thirty-nine representatives of the three estates of thirteen provinces met, contemporaneously with the religious colloquy of poissy, at pontoise, and there voiced with great boldness the claims of constitutional government. they demanded the right of the estates to govern during the minority of the king; they claimed that the estates should be summoned at least biennially; they forbade taxation, alienation of the royal domain or declaration of war without their consent. the further resolution that the persecution of the huguenots should cease, betrayed the quarter from which the popular party drew its strength. but if the voices of the brave deputies hardly carried beyond the senate-chamber, a host of pamphlets, following hard upon the great massacre, trumpeted the sounds of freedom to the four winds. theodore beza [sidenote: beza] published anonymously his _rights of magistrates_, developing calvin's theory that the representatives of the people should be empowered to put a bridle on the king. the pact between the people and king is said to be abrogated if the king violates it. [sidenote: hotman, ] at the same time another french protestant, francis hotman, published his _franco-gallia_, to show that france had an ancient and inviolable constitution. this unwritten law regulates the succession to the throne; by it the deputies hold their privileges in the estates general; by it the laws, binding even on the king, are made. the right of the people can be shown, in hotman's opinion, to extend even to deposing the monarch and electing his successor. [sidenote: vindiciae contra tyrannos, ] a higher and more general view was taken in the _rights against tyrants_ published under the pseudonym of stephen junius brutus the celt, and written by philip du plessis-mornay. this brief but comprehensive survey, addressed to both catholics and protestants, { } and aimed at machiavelli as the chief supporter of tyranny, advanced four theses: . subjects are bound to obey god rather than the king. this is regarded as self-evident. . if the king devastates the church and violates god's law, he may be resisted at least passively as far as private men are concerned, but actively by magistrates and cities. the author, who quotes from the bible and ancient history, evidently has contemporary france in mind. . the people may resist a tyrant who is oppressing or ruining the state. originally, in the author's view, the people either elected the king, or confirmed him, and if they have not exercised this right for a long time it is a legal maxim that no prescription can run against the public claims. laws derive their sanction from the people, and should be made by them; taxes may only be levied by their representatives, and the king who exacts imposts of his own will is in no wise different from an enemy. the kings are not even the owners of public property, but only its administrators, are bound by the contract with the governed, and may be rightly punished for violating it. . the fourth thesis advanced by mornay is that foreign aid may justly be called in against a tyrant. [sidenote: la boétie, - ] not relying exclusively on their own talents the huguenots were able to press into the ranks of their army of pamphleteers some notable catholics. in they published as a fragment, and in entire, _the discourse on voluntary servitude_, commonly called the _contr'un_, by stephen de la boétie. this gentleman, dying at the age of thirty-three, had left all his manuscripts to his bosom friend montaigne. the latter says that la boétie composed the work as a prize declamation at the age of sixteen or eighteen. [sidenote: - ] but along with many passages in the pamphlet, which might have been suggested by erasmus, are several { } allusions that seem to point to the character of henry iii--in king of poland and in king of france--and to events just prior to the time of publication. according to an attractive hypothesis, not fully proved, these passages were added by montaigne himself before he gave the work to one of his several huguenot friends or kinsmen. la boétie, at any rate, appealed to the passions aroused by st. bartholomew in bidding the people no longer to submit to one man, "the most wretched and effeminate of the nation," who has only two hands, two eyes, and who will fall if unsupported. and yet, he goes on rhetorically, "you sow the fruits of the earth that he may waste them; you furnish your houses for him to pillage them; you rear your daughters to glut his lust and your sons to perish in his wars; . . . you exhaust your bodies in labor that he may wallow in vile pleasures." as montaigne and la boétie were catholics, it is pertinent here to remark that tyranny produced much the same effect on its victims, whatever their religion. the sorbonne, [sidenote: the sorbonne] consulted by the league, unanimously decided that the people of france were freed from their oath of allegiance to henry iii and could with a good conscience take arms against him. one of the doctors, boucher, wrote to prove that the church and the people had the right to depose an assassin, a perjurer, an impious or heretical prince, or one guilty of sacrilege or witchcraft. a tyrant, he concluded, was a wild beast, whom it was lawful for the state as a whole or even for private individuals, to kill. so firmly established did the doctrine of the contract between prince and people become that towards the end of the century one finds it taken for granted. the _mémoires_ of the huguenot soldier, poet and historian agrippa d'aubigné are full of republican sentiments, as, for example, "there is a binding obligation { } between the king and his subjects," and "the power of the prince proceeds from the people." but it must not be imagined that such doctrines passed without challenge. the most important writer on political science after machiavelli, john bodin, [sidenote: bodin, - ] was on the whole a conservative. in his writings acute and sometimes profound remarks jostle quaint and abject superstitions. he hounded the government and the mob on witches with the vile zeal of the authors of the _witches' hammer_; and he examined all existing religions with the coolness of a philosopher. he urged on the attention of the world that history was determined in general by natural causes, such as climate, but that revolutions were caused partly by the inscrutable will of god and partly by the more ascertainable influence of planets. his most famous work, _the republic_, [sidenote: ] is a criticism of machiavelli and an attempt to bring politics back into the domain of morality. he defines a state as a company of men united for the purpose of living well and happily; he thinks it arose from natural right and social contract. for the first time bodin differentiates the state from the government, defining sovereignty (_majestas_) as the attribute of the former. he classifies governments in the usual three categories, and refuses to believe in mixed governments. though england puzzles him, he regards her as an absolute monarchy. this is the form that he decidedly prefers, for he calls the people a many-headed monster and says that the majority of men are incompetent and bad. preaching passive obedience to the king, he finds no check on him, either by tyrannicide or by constitutional magistrates, save only in the judgment of god. it is singular that after bodin had removed all effective checks on the tyrant in this world, he should lay it down as a principle that no king should levy { } taxes without his subjects' consent. another contradiction is that whereas he frees the subject from the duty of obedience in case the monarch commands aught against god's law, he treats religion almost as a matter of policy, advising that, whatever it be, the statesman should not disturb it. apart from the streak of superstition in his mind, his inconsistencies are due to the attempt to reconcile opposites--machiavelli and calvin. for with all his denunciation of the former's atheism and immorality, he, with his chauvinism, his defence of absolutism, his practical opportunism, is not so far removed from the florentine as he would have us believe. [sidenote: dutch republicans] the revolution that failed in france succeeded in the netherlands, and some contribution to political theory can be found in the constitution drawn up by the states general in , when they recognized anjou as their prince, and in the document deposing philip in . both assume fully the sovereignty of the people and the omnicompetence of their elected representatives. as oldenbarnevelt commented, "the cities and nobles together represent the whole state and the whole people." the deposition of philip is justified by an appeal to the law of nature, and to the example of other tortured states, and by a recital of philip's breaches of the laws and customs of the land. [sidenote: knox] scotland, in the course of her revolution, produced almost as brilliant an array of pamphleteers as had france. john knox maintained that, "if men, in the fear of god, oppose themselves to the fury and blind rage of princes, in doing so they do not resist god, but the devil, who abuses the sword and authority of god," and again, he asked, "what harm should the commonwealth receive if the corrupt affections of ignorant rulers were moderated and bridled by the { } wisdom and discretion of godly subjects?" but the duty, he thought, to curb princes in free kingdoms and realms, does not belong to every private man, but "appertains to the nobility, sworn and born counsellors of the same." carrying such doctrines to the logical result, knox hinted to mary that daniel might have resisted nebuchadnezzar and paul might have resisted nero with the sword, had god given them the power. another scotch protestant, john craig, in support of the prosecution of mary, said that it had been determined and concluded at the university of bologna [sidenote: ] that "all rulers, be they supreme or inferior, may be and ought to be reformed or deposed by them by whom they were chosen, confirmed and admitted to their office, as often as they break that promise made by oath to their subjects." knox and craig both argued for the execution of mary on the ground that "it was a public speech among all peoples and among all estates, that the queen had no more liberty to commit murder nor adultery than any other private person." knollys also told mary that a monarch ought to be deposed for madness or murder. to the zeal for religion animating knox, george buchanan [sidenote: buchanan] joined a more rational spirit of liberty and a stronger consciousness of positive right. his great work _on the constitution of scotland_ derived all power from the people, asserted the responsibility of kings to their subjects and pleaded for the popular election of the chief magistrate. in extreme cases execution of the monarch was defended, though by what precise machinery he was to be arraigned was left uncertain; probably constitutional resistance was thought of, as far as practicable, and tyrannicide was considered as a last resort. "if you ask anyone," says our author, "what he thinks of the punishment of { } caligula, nero or domitian, i think no one will be so devoted to the royal name as not to confess that they rightly paid the penalty of their crimes." [sidenote: english monarchists] in england the two tendencies, the one to favor the divine right of kings, the other for constitutional restraint, existed side by side. the latter opinion was attributed by courtly divines to the influence of calvin. matthew hutton blamed the reformer because "he thought not so well of a kingdom as of a popular state." "god save us," wrote archbishop parker, "from such a visitation as knox has attempted in scotland, the people to be orderers of things." this distinguished prelate preached that disobedience to the queen was a greater crime than sacrilege or adultery, for obedience is the root of all virtues and the cause of all felicity, and "rebellion is not a single fault, like theft or murder, but the cesspool and swamp of all possible sins against god and man." bonner was charged by the government of mary to preach that all rebels incurred damnation. much later richard hooker warned his countrymen that puritanism endangered the prerogatives of crown and nobility. [sidenote: and republicans] but there were not wanting champions of the people. reginald pole asserted the responsibility of the sovereign, though in moderate language. bishop john ponet wrote _a treatise on politic power_ to show that men had the right to depose a bad king and to assassinate a tyrant. the haughty elizabeth herself often had to listen to drastic advice. when she visited cambridge she was entertained by a debate on tyrannicide, in which one bold clerk asserted that god might incite a regicide; and by a discussion of the respective advantages of elective and hereditary monarchy, one speaker offering to maintain the former with his life and, if need be, with his death. when elizabeth, after hearing a refractory parliament, complained to the { } spanish ambassador that "she could not tell what those devils were after" his excellency replied, "they want liberty, madam, and if princes do not look to themselves" they will soon find that they are drifting to revolution and anarchy. significant, indeed, was the silent work of parliament in building up the constitutional doctrine of its own omnicompetence and of its own supremacy. [sidenote: tyrannicide] one striking aberration in the political theory of that time was the prominence in it of the appeal to tyrannicide. schooled by the ancients who sang the praises of harmodius and aristogiton, by the biblical example of ehud and eglon, and by various medieval publicists, and taught the value of murder by the princes and popes who set prices on each other's heads, an extraordinary number of sixteenth century divines approved of the dagger as the best remedy for tyranny. melanchthon wished that god would raise up an able man to slay henry viii; john ponet and cajetan and the french theologian boucher admitted the possible virtue of assassination. but the most elaborate statement of the same doctrine was put by the spanish jesuit mariana, in a book _on the king and his education_ published in , with an official _imprimatur_, a dedication to the reigning monarch and an assertion that it was approved by learned and grave men of the society of jesus. it taught that the prince holds sway solely by the consent of the people and by ancient law, and that, though his vices are to be borne up to a certain point, yet when he ruins the state he is a public enemy, to slay whom is not only permissible but glorious for any man brave enough to despise his own safety for the public good. if one may gather the official theory of the catholic church from the contradictory statements of her doctors, she advocated despotism tempered by { } assassination. no lutheran ever preached the duty of passive obedience more strongly than did the catechism of the council of trent. [sidenote: radicals] a word must be said about the more radical thought of the time. all the writers just analysed saw things from the standpoint of the governing and propertied classes. but the voice of the poor came to be heard now and then, not only from their own mouths but from that of the few authors who had enough imagination to sympathize with them. the idea that men might sometime live without any government at all is found in such widely different writers as richard hooker and francis rabelais. but socialism was then, as ever, more commonly advocated than anarchy. the anabaptists, particularly, believed in a community of goods, and even tried to practice it when they got the chance. though they failed in this, the contributions to democracy latent in their egalitarian spirit must not be forgotten. they brought down on themselves the severest animadversions from defenders of the existing order, by whatever confession they were bound. [sidenote: ] vives wrote a special tract to refute the arguments of the anabaptists on communism. luther said that the example of the early christians did not authorize communism for, though the first disciples pooled their own goods, they did not try to seize the property of pilate and herod. even the french calvinists, in their books dedicated to liberty, referred to the anabaptists as seditious rebels worthy of the severest repression. [sidenote: _utopia_, ] a nobler work than any produced by the anabaptists, and one that may have influenced them not a little, was the _utopia_ of sir thomas more. he drew partly on plato, on tacitus's _germania_, on augustine and on pico della mirandola, and for the outward framework of his book on the _four voyages of americus vespuccius_. { } but he relied mostly on his own observation of what was rotten in the english state where he was a judge and a ruler of men. he imagined an ideal country, utopia, a place of perfect equality economically as well as politically. it was by government an elective monarchy with inferior magistrates and representative assembly also elected. the people changed houses every ten years by lot; they considered luxury and wealth a reproach. "in other places they speak still of the common wealth but every man procureth his private wealth. here where nothing is private the common affairs be earnestly looked upon." "what justice is this, that a rich goldsmith or usurer should have a pleasant and wealthy living either by idleness or by unnecessary occupation, when in the meantime poor laborers, carters, ironsmiths, carpenters and plowmen by so great and continual toil . . . do yet get so hard and so poor a living and live so wretched a life that the condition of the laboring beasts may seem much better and wealthier?" "when i consider and weigh in my mind all these commonwealths which nowadays anywhere do flourish, [sidenote: the commonwealth] so god help me, i can perceive nothing but a certain conspiracy of rich men procuring their own commodities under the name and title of the commonwealth." more was convinced that a short day's labor shared by everyone would produce quite sufficient wealth to keep all in comfort. he protests explicitly against those who pretend that there are two sorts of justice, one for governments and one for private men. he repudiates the doctrine that bad faith is necessary to the prosperity of a state; the utopians form no alliances and carry out faithfully the few and necessary treaties that they ratify. moreover they dishonor war above all things. in the realm of pure economic and social theory { } something, though not much, was done. machiavelli believed that the growth of population in the north and its migration southwards was a constant law, an idea derived from paulus diaconus and handed on to milton. he even derived "germany" from "germinare." a more acute remark, anticipating malthus, was made by the spanish jesuit john botero [sidenote: botero, ] who, in his _reason of state_, pointed out that population was absolutely dependent on means of subsistence. he concluded _a priori_ that the population of the world had remained stationary for three thousand years. [sidenote: mercantile economics] statesmen then labored under the vicious error, drawn from the analogy of a private man and a state, that national wealth consisted in the precious metals. the stringent and universal laws against the export of specie and intended to encourage its import, proved a considerable burden on trade, though as a matter of fact they only retarded and did not stop the flow of coin. the striking rise in prices during the century attracted some attention. various causes were assigned for it, among others the growth of population and the increase of luxury. hardly anyone saw that the increase in the precious metals was the fundamental cause, but several writers, among them bodin, john hales and copernicus, saw that a debased currency was responsible for the acute dearness of certain local markets. [sidenote: usury] the lawfulness of the taking of usury greatly exercised the minds of men of that day. the church on traditional grounds had forbidden it, and her doctors stood fast by her precept, though an occasional individual, like john eck, could be found to argue for it. luther was in principle against allowing a man "to sit behind his stove and let his money work for him," but he weakened enough to allow moderate interest in given circumstances. zwingli would allow interest to { } be taken only as a form of profit-sharing. calvin said: "if we forbid usury wholly we bind consciences by a bond straiter than that of god himself. but if we allow it the least in the world, under cover of our permission someone will immediately make a general and unbridled licence." the laws against the taking of interest were gradually relaxed throughout the century, but even at its close bacon could only regard usury as a concession made on account of the hardness of men's hearts. [ ] in greek the words "politics" and "ethics" both have a wider meaning than they have in english. [ ] lord morley. section . science [sidenote: inductive method] the glory of sixteenth-century science is that for the first time, on a large scale, since the ancient greeks, did men try to look at nature through their own eyes instead of through those of aristotle and the _physiologus_. bacon and vives have each been credited with the discovery of the inductive method, but, like so many philosophers, they merely generalized a practice already common at their time. save for one discovery of the first magnitude, and two or three others of some little importance, the work of the sixteenth century was that of observing, describing and classifying facts. this was no small service in itself, though it does not strike the imagination as do the great new theories. [sidenote: mathematics] in mathematics the preparatory work for the statement and solution of new problems consisted in the perfection of symbolism. as reasoning in general is dependent on words, as music is dependent on the mechanical invention of instruments, so mathematics cannot progress far save with a simple and adequate symbolism. the introduction of the arabic as against the roman numerals, and particularly the introduction of the zero in reckoning, for the first time, in the later middle ages, allowed men to perform conveniently the four fundamental processes. the use of the signs + { } and - for plus and minus (formerly written p. and m.), and of the sign = for equality and of v [square root symbol] for root, were additional conveniences. to this might be added the popularization of decimals by simon stevin in , which he called "the art of calculating by whole numbers without fractions." how clumsy are all things at their birth is illustrated by his method of writing decimals by putting them as powers of one-tenth, with circles around the exponents; _e.g._, the number that we should write . , he wrote (to the power ) (to the power ) (to the power ) (to the power ). he first declared for decimal systems of coinage, weights and measures. [sidenote: algebra ] algebraic notation also improved vastly in the period. in a treatise of lucas paciolus we find cumbrous signs instead of letters, thus no. (numero) for the known quantity, co. (cosa) for the unknown quantity, ce. (censo) for the square, and cu. (cubo) for the cube of the unknown quantity. as he still used p. and m. for plus and minus, he wrote co.p. ce.m. cu.p. ce.ce.m. no. for the number we should write x + x(power ) - x(power ) + x(power ) - a. the use of letters in the modern style is due to the mathematicians of the sixteenth century. the solution of cubic and of biquadratic equations, at first only in certain particular forms, but later in all forms, was mastered by tartaglia and cardan. the latter even discussed negative roots, whether rational or irrational. [sidenote: geometry] geometry at that time, as for long afterwards, was dependent wholly on euclid, of whose work a latin translation was first published at venice. [sidenote: ] copernicus with his pupil george joachim, called rheticus, and francis vieta, made some progress in trigonometry. copernicus gave the first simple demonstration of the fundamental formula of spherical trigonometry; rheticus made tables of sines, tangents and secants { } of arcs. vieta discovered the formula for deriving the sine of a multiple angle. [sidenote: cardan, - ] as one turns the pages of the numerous works of jerome cardan one is astonished to find the number of subjects on which he wrote, including, in mathematics, choice and chance, arithmetic, algebra, the calendar, negative quantities, and the theory of numbers. in the last named branch it was another italian, maurolycus, who recognized the general character of mathematics as "symbolic logic." he is indeed credited with understanding the most general principle on which depends all mathematical deduction.[ ] some of the most remarkable anticipations of modern science were made by cardan. he believed that inorganic matter was animated, and that all nature was a progressive evolution. thus his statement that all animals were originally worms implies the indefinite variability of species, just as his remark that inferior metals were unsuccessful attempts of nature to produce gold, might seem to foreshadow the idea of the transmutation of metals under the influence of radioactivity. it must be remembered that such guesses had no claim to be scientific demonstrations. the encyclopaedic character of knowledge was then, perhaps, one of its most striking characteristics. bacon was not the first man of his century to take all knowledge for his province. in learning and breadth of view few men have ever exceeded conrad gesner, [sidenote: gesner] called by cuvier "the german pliny." his _history of animals_ (published in many volumes - ) was the basis of zoölogy until the time of darwin. [sidenote: zoölogy] he { } drew largely on previous writers, aristotle and albertus magnus, but he also took pains to see for himself as much as possible. the excellent illustrations for his book, partly drawn from previous works but mostly new, added greatly to its value. his classification, though superior to any that had preceded it, was in some respects astonishing, as when he put the hippopotamus among aquatic animals with fish, and the bat among birds. occasionally he describes a purely mythical animal like "the monkey-fox." it is difficult to see what criterion of truth would have been adequate for the scholar at that time. a monkey-fox is no more improbable than a rhinoceros, and gesner found it necessary to assure his readers that the rhinoceros really existed in nature and was not a creation of fancy. [sidenote: leonardo] as the master of modern anatomy and of several other branches of science, stands leonardo da vinci. it is difficult to appraise his work accurately because it is not yet fully known, and still more because of its extraordinary form. ho left thousands of pages of notes on everything and hardly one complete treatise on anything. he began a hundred studies and finished none of them. he had a queer twist to his mind that made him, with all his power, seek byways. the monstrous, the uncouth, fascinated him; he saw a medusa in a spider and the universe in a drop of water. he wrote his notes in mirror-writing, from right to left; he illustrated them with a thousand fragments of exquisite drawing, all unfinished and tantalizing alike to the artist and to the scientist. his mind roamed to flying machines and submarines, but he never made one; the reason given by him in the latter case being his fear that it would be put to piratical use. he had something in him of faust; in some respects he reminds us of william james, who also started as a { } painter and ended as an omniverous student of outré things and as a psychologist. [sidenote: anatomy] if, therefore, the anatomical drawings made by leonardo from about twenty bodies that he dissected, are marvellous specimens of art, he left it to others to make a really systematic study of the human body. his contemporary, berengar of carpi, professor at bologna, first did this with marked success, classifying the various tissues as fat, membrane, flesh, nerve, fibre and so forth. so far from true is it that it was difficult to get corpses to work upon that he had at least a hundred. indeed, according to fallopius, another famous scientist, the duke of tuscany would occasionally send live criminals to be vivisected, thus making their punishment redound to the benefit of science. the inquisitors made the path of science hard by burning books on anatomy as materialistic and indecent. [sidenote: servetus] two or three investigators anticipated harvey's discovery of the circulation of the blood. unfortunately, as the matter is of interest, servetus's treatment of the subject, found in his work on _the trinity_, is too long to quote, but it is plain that, along with various fallacious ideas, he had really discovered the truth that the blood all passes through heart and lungs whence it is returned to the other organs. [sidenote: physics] while hardly anything was done in chemistry, a large number of phenomena in the field of physics were observed now for the first time. leonardo da vinci measured the rapidity of falling bodies, by dropping them from towers and having the time of their passage at various stages noted. he thus found, correctly, that their velocity increased. it is also said that he observed that bodies always fell a little to the eastward of the plumb line, and thence concluded that the earth revolved on its axis. he made careful experiments with billiard balls, discovering that the { } momentum of the impact always was preserved entire in the motion of the balls struck. he measured forces by the weight and speed of the bodies and arrived at an approximation of the ideas of mechanical "work" and energy of position. he thought of energy as a spiritual force transferred from one body to another by touch. this remarkable man further invented a hygrometer, explained sound as a wave-motion in the air, and said that the appearance known to us as "the old moon in the new moon's lap" was due to the reflection of earth-light. nicholas tartaglia first showed that the course of a projectile was a parabola, and that the maximum range of a gun would be at an angle of degrees. some good work was done in optics. john baptist della porta described, though he did not invent, the camera obscura. burning glasses were explained. leonard digges even anticipated the telescope by the use of double lenses. further progress in mechanics was made by cardan who explained the lever and pulley, and by simon stevin who first demonstrated the resolution of forces. he also noticed the difference between stable and unstable equilibrium, and showed that the downward pressure of a liquid is independent of the shape of the vessel it is in and is dependent only on the height. he and other scholars asserted the causation of the tides by the moon. [sidenote: magnetism] magnetism was much studied. when compasses were first invented it was thought that they always pointed to the north star under the influence of some stellar compulsion. but even in the fifteenth century it was noticed independently by columbus and by german experimenters that the needle did not point true north. as the amount of its declination varies at { } different places on the earth and at different times, this was one of the most puzzling facts to explain. one man believed that the change depended on climate, another that it was an individual property of each needle. about robert norman discovered the inclination, or dip of the compass. these and other observations were summed up by william gilbert [sidenote: gilbert] in his work on _the magnet, magnetic bodies and the earth as a great magnet_. [sidenote: ] a great deal of his space was taken in that valuable destructive criticism that refutes prevalent errors. his greatest discovery was that the earth itself is a large magnet. he thought of magnetism as "a soul, or like a soul, which is in many things superior to the human soul as long as this is bound by our bodily organs." it was therefore an appetite that compelled the magnet to point north and south. similar explanations of physical and chemical properties are found in the earliest and in some of the most recent philosophers. [sidenote: geography] as might be expected, the science of geography, nourished by the discoveries of new lands, grew mightily. even the size of the earth could only be guessed at until it had been encircled. columbus believed that its circumference at the equator was miles. the stories of its size that circulated after magellan were exaggerated by the people. thus sir david lyndsay in his poem _the dreme_ [sidenote: ] quotes "the author of the sphere" as saying that the earth was , miles in circumference, each mile being feet. the author referred to was the thirteenth century johannes de sacro bosco (john holywood). two editions of his work, _de sphaera_, that i have seen, one of venice, , and one of paris, , give the circumference of the earth as , miles, but an edition published at wittenberg in gives it as , , probably an { } attempt to reduce the author's english miles to german ones. [sidenote: ] robert recorde calculated the earth's circumference at , miles.[ ] rough maps of the new lands were drawn by the companions of the discoverers. martin waldseemuller [sidenote: ] published a large map of the world in twelve sheets and a small globe about / inches in diameter, in which the new world is for the first time called america. the next great advance was made by the flemish cartographer gerard mercator [sidenote: mercator, - ] whose globes and maps--some of them on the projection since called by his name--are extraordinarily accurate for europe and the coast of africa, and fairly correct for asia, though he represented that continent as too narrow. he included, however, in their approximately correct positions, india, the malay peninsula, sumatra, java and japan. america is very poorly drawn, for though the east coast of north america is fairly correct, the continent is too broad and the rest of the coasts vague. he made two startling anticipations of later discoveries, the first that he separated asia and america by only a narrow strait at the north, and the second that he assumed the existence of a continent around the south pole. this, however, he made far too large, thinking that the tierra del fuego was part of it and drawing it so as to come near the south coast of africa and of java. his maps of europe were based on recent and excellent surveys. [sidenote: astronomy] astronomy, the oldest of the sciences, had made much progress in the tabulation of material. the apparent orbits of the sun, moon, planets, and stars had been correctly observed, so that eclipses might be predicted, conjunction of planets calculated, and that { } gradual movement of the sun through the signs of the zodiac known as the precession of the equinoxes, taken account of. to explain these movements the ancients started on the theory that each heavenly body moved in a perfect circle around the earth; the fixed stars were assigned to one of a group of revolving spheres, the sun, moon and five planets each to one, making eight in all. but it was soon observed that the movements of the planets were too complicated to fall into this system; the number of moving spheres was raised to before aristotle and to by him. to these concentric spheres later astronomers added eccentric spheres, moving within others, called epicycles, and to them epicycles of the second order; in fact astronomers were compelled: to build, unbuild, contrive, to save appearances, to gird the sphere with centric and eccentric scribbled o'er cycle and epicycle, orb in orb. the complexity of this system, which moved the mirth of voltaire and, according to milton, of the almighty, was such as to make it doubted by some thinkers even in antiquity. several men thought the earth revolved on its axis, but the hypothesis was rejected by aristotle and ptolemy. heracleides, in the fourth century b. c., said that mercury and venus circled around the sun, and in the third century aristarchus of samos actually anticipated, though it was a mere guess, the heliocentric theory. just before copernicus various authors seemed to hint at the truth, but in so mystical or brief a way that little can be made of their statements. thus, nicholas of cusa [sidenote: nicholas of cusa, - ] argued that "as the earth cannot be the center of the universe it cannot lack all motion." leonardo believed that the earth revolved on its axis, and stated that it was a star and would look, to a man on { } the moon, as the moon does to us. in one place he wrote, "the sun does not move,"--only that enigmatical sentence and nothing more. [sidenote: copernicus, - ] nicholas copernicus was a native of thorn in poland, himself of mixed polish and teutonic blood. at the age of eighteen he went to the university of cracow, where he spent three years. in he was enabled by an ecclesiastical appointment to go to italy, where he spent most of the next ten years in study. he worked at the universities of bologna, padua and ferrara, and lectured--though not as a member of the university--at rome. his studies were comprehensive, including civil law, canon law, medicine, mathematics, and the classics. at padua, on may , , he was made doctor of canon law. he also studied astronomy in italy, talked with the most famous professors of that science and made observations of the heavens. copernicus's uncle was bishop of ermeland, a spiritual domain and fief of the teutonic order, under the supreme suzerainty, at least after , of the king of poland. here copernicus spent the rest of his life; the years - in the bishop's palace at heilsberg, after , except for two not long stays at allenstein, as a canon at frauenburg. this little town, near but not quite on the baltic coast, is ornamented by a beautiful cathedral. on the wall surrounding the close is a small tower which the astronomer made his observatory. here, in the long frosty nights of winter and in the few short hours of summer darkness, he often lay on his back examining the stars. he had no telescope, and his other instruments were such crude things as he put together himself. the most important was what he calls the _instrumentum parallacticum_, a wooden isosceles triangle with legs eight feet long divided into { } divisions by ink marks, and a hypotenuse divided into divisions. with this he determined the height of the sun, moon and stars, and their deviation from the vernal point. to this he added a square (quadrum) which told the height of the sun by the shadow thrown by a peg in the middle of the square. a third instrument, also to measure the height of a celestial body, was called the jacob's staff. his difficulties were increased by the lack of any astronomical tables save those poor ones made by greeks and arabs. the faults of these were so great that the fundamental star, _i.e._, the one he took by which to measure the rest, spica, was given a longitude nearly degrees out of the true one. [sidenote: copernican hypothesis] nevertheless with these poor helps copernicus arrived, and that very early, at his momentous conclusion. his observations, depending as they did on the weather, were not numerous. his time was spent largely in reading the classic astronomers and in working out the mathematical proofs of his hypothesis. he found hints in quotations from ancient astronomers in cicero and plutarch that the earth moved, but he, for the first time, placed the planets in their true position around the sun, and the moon as a satellite of the earth. he retained the old conception of the primum mobile or sphere of fixed stars though he placed it at an infinitely greater distance than did the ancients, to account for the absence of any observed alteration (parallax) in the position of the stars during the year. he also retained the old conception of circular orbits for the planets, though at one time he considered the possibility of their being elliptical, as they are. unfortunately for his immediate followers the section on this subject found in his own manuscript was cut out of his printed book. the precise moment at which copernicus { } formulated his theory in his own mind cannot be told with certainty, but it was certainly before . he kept back his books for a long time, but his light was not placed under a bushel nevertheless. [sidenote: ] the first rays of it shown forth in a tract by celio calcagnini of which only the title, "that the earth moves and the heaven is still," has survived. some years later copernicus wrote a short summary of his book, for private circulation only, entitled "a short commentary on his hypotheses concerning the celestial movements." a fuller account of them was given by his friend and disciple, [sidenote: _narratio prima_, ] george joachim, called rheticus, who left wittenberg, where he was teaching, to sit at the master's feet, and who published what was called _the first account_. finally, copernicus was persuaded to give his own work to the public. foreseeing the opposition it was likely to call forth, he tried to forestall criticism by a dedication to the pope paul iii. friends at nuremberg undertook to find a printer, and one of them, the lutheran pastor andrew osiander, with the best intentions, did the great wrong of inserting an anonymous preface stating that the author did not advance his hypotheses as necessarily true, but merely as a means of facilitating astronomical calculations. at last the greatest work of the century, _on the revolutions of the heavenly spheres_, [sidenote: de revolutionibus orbium caelestium, ] came from the press; a copy was brought to the author on his death bed. the first of the six books examines the previous authorities, the second proposes the new theory, the third discusses the precession of the equinoxes, the fourth proves that the moon circles the earth, the fifth and most important proves that the planets, including the earth, move around the sun, and gives correctly the time of the orbits of all the planets then known, from mercury with eighty-eight days to saturn with thirty { } years. the sixth book is on the determination of latitude and longitude from the fixed stars. copernicus's proofs and reasons are absolutely convincing and valid as far as they go. it remained for galileo and newton to give further explanations and some modifications in detail of the new theory. [sidenote: reception of the copernican theory] when one remembers the enormous hubbub raised by darwin's _origin of species_, the reception of copernicus's no less revolutionary work seems singularly mild. the idea was too far in advance of the age, too great, too paradoxical, to be appreciated at once. save for a few astronomers like rheticus and reinhold, hardly anyone accepted it at first. it would have been miraculous had they done so. among the first to take alarm were the wittenberg theologians, to whose attention the new theory was forcibly brought by their colleague rheticus. luther alludes to the subject twice or thrice in his table talk, most clearly on june , , when mention was made of a certain new astronomer, who tried to prove that the earth moved and not the sky, sun and moon, just as, when one was carried along in a boat or wagon, it seemed to himself that he was still and that the trees and landscape moved. "so it goes now," said luther, "whoever wishes to be clever must not let anything please him that others do, but must do something of his own. thus he does who wishes to subvert the whole of astronomy: but i believe the holy scriptures, which say that joshua commanded the sun, and not the earth, to stand still." in his _elements of physics_, written probably in , but not published until , melanchthon said: the eyes bear witness that the sky revolves every twenty-four hours. but some men now, either for love of novelty, or to display their ingenuity, assert that the earth moves. . . . but it is hurtful and dishonorable to { } assert such absurdities. . . . the psalmist says that the sun moves and the earth stands fast. . . . and the earth, as the center of the universe, must needs be the immovable point on which the circle turns. apparently, however, melanchthon either came to adopt the new theory, or to regard it as possible, for he left this passage entirely out of the second edition of the same work. [sidenote: ] moreover his relations with rheticus continued warm, and rheinhold continued to teach the copernican system at wittenberg. the reception of the new work was also surprisingly mild, at first, in catholic circles. as early as albert widmanstetter had told clement vii of the copernican hypothesis and the pope did not, at least, condemn it. moreover it was a cardinal, schönberg, who consulted paul iii on the matter [sidenote: ] and then urged copernicus to publish his book, though in his letter the language is so cautiously guarded against possible heresy that not a word is said about the earth moving around the sun but only about the moon and the bodies near it so doing. [sidenote: ] a spanish theologian, didacus a stunica (zuñiga) wrote a commentary on job, which was licensed by the censors, accepting the copernican astronomy. but gradually, as the implications of the doctrine became apparent, the church in self-defence took a strong stand against it. [sidenote: march , ] the congregation of the index issued a decree saying, "lest opinions of this sort creep in to the destruction of catholic truth, the book of nicholas copernicus and others [defending his hypothesis] are suspended until they be corrected." a little later galileo was forced, under the threat of torture, to recant this heresy. only when the system had become universally accepted, did the church, in , first expressly permit the faithful to hold it. the philosophers were as shy of the new light as { } the theologians. bodin in france and bacon in england both rejected it; the former was conservative at heart and the latter was never able to see good in other men's work, whether that of aristotle or of gilbert or of the great pole. possibly he was also misled by osiander's preface and by tycho brahe. giordano bruno, however, welcomed the new idea with enthusiasm, saying that copernicus taught more in two chapters than did aristotle and the peripatetics in all their works. astronomers alone were capable of weighing the evidence scientifically and they, at first, were also divided. erasmus reinhold, of wittenberg, accepted it and made his calculations on the assumption of its truth, as did an englishman, john field. [sidenote: ] tycho brahe, [sidenote: tycho brahe, - ] on the other hand, tried to find a compromise between the copernican and ptolemaic systems. he argued that the earth could not revolve on its axis as the centrifugal force would hurl it to pieces, and that it could not revolve around the sun as in that case a change in the position of the fixed stars would be observed. both objections were well taken, of course, considered in themselves alone, but both could be answered by a deeper knowledge. brahe therefore considered the earth as the center of the orbits of the moon, sun, and stars, and the sun as the center of the orbits of the planets. the attention to astronomy had two practical corollaries, the improvement of navigation and the reform of the calendar. several better forms of astrolabe, of "sun-compass" (or dial turnable by a magnet) and an "astronomical ring" for getting the latitude and longitude by observation of sun and star, were introduced. [sidenote: reform of calendar] the reform of the julian calendar was needed on account of the imperfect reckoning of the length of the { } year as exactly / days; thus every four centuries there would be three days too much. it was proposed to remedy this for the present by leaving out ten days, and for the future by omitting leap-year every century not divisible by . the bull of gregory xiii, [sidenote: february , ] who resumed the duties of the ancient pontifex maximus in regulating time, enjoined catholic lands to rectify their calendar by allowing the fifteenth of october, , to follow immediately after the fourth. this was done by most of italy, by spain, portugal, poland, most of germany, and the netherlands. other lands adopted the new calendar later, england not until and russia not until . [ ] _i.e._ the principle thus formulated in the _encyclopaedia britannica_, s.v. "mathematics": "if s is any class and zero a member of it, also if when x is a cardinal number and a member of s, also x + is a member of s, then the whole class of cardinal numbers is contained in s." [ ] eratosthenes ( - b.c.) had correctly calculated the earth's circumference at , , which poseidonius (c. - b.c.) reduced to , , in which he was followed by ptolemy ( d century a.d.). section . philosophy [sidenote: science, religion and philosophy] the interrelations of science, religion, and philosophy, though complex in their operation, are easily understood in their broad outlines. science is the examination of the data of experience and their explanation in logical, physical, or mathematical terms. religion, on the other hand, is an attitude towards unseen powers, involving the belief in the existence of spirits. philosophy, or the search for the ultimate reality, is necessarily an afterthought. it comes only after man is sophisticated enough to see some difference between the phenomenon and the idea. it draws its premises from both science and religion: some systems, like that of plato, being primarily religious fancy, some, like that of aristotle, scientific realism. the philosophical position taken by the catholic church was that of aquinas, aristotelian realism. [sidenote: the reformers] the official commentary on the _summa_ was written at this time by cardinal cajetan. compared to the steady orientation of the catholic, the protestant philosophers wavered, catching often at the latest style in thought, be it monism or pragmatism. luther was the { } spiritual child of occam, and the ancestor of kant. his individualism stood half-way between the former's nominalism and the latter's transcendentalism and subjectivism. but the reformers were far less interested in purely metaphysical than they were in dogmatic questions. the main use they made of their philosophy was to bring in a more individual and less mechanical scheme of salvation. their great change in point of view from catholicism was the rejection of the sacramental, hierarchical system in favor of justification by faith. this was, in truth, a stupendous change, putting the responsibility for salvation directly on god, and dispensing with the mediation of priest and rite. [sidenote: attitude towards reason] but it was the only important change, of a speculative nature, made by the reformers. the violent polemics of that and later times have concealed the fact that in most of his ideas the protestant is but a variety of the catholic. both religions accepted as axiomatic the existence of a personal, ethical god, the immortality of the soul, future rewards and punishments, the mystery of the trinity, the revelation, incarnation and miracles of christ, the authority of the bible and the real presence in the sacrament. both equally detested reason. he who is gifted with the heavenly knowledge of faith [says the catechism of the council of trent] is free from an inquisitive curiosity; for when god commands us to believe, he does not propose to have us search into his divine judgments, nor to inquire their reasons and causes, but demands an immutable faith. . . . faith, therefore, excludes not only all doubt, but even the desire of subjecting its truth to demonstration. we know that reason is the devil's harlot [says luther] and can do nothing but slander and harm all that god says and does. [and again] if, outside of christ, you wish by your own thoughts to know your relation to { } god, you will break your neck. thunder strikes him who examines. it is satan's wisdom to tell what god is, and by doing so he will draw you into the abyss. therefore keep to revelation and don't try to understand. there are many mysteries in the bible, luther acknowledged, that seem absurd to reason, but it is our duty to swallow them whole. calvin abhorred the free spirit of the humanists as the supreme heresy of free thought. he said that philosophy was only the shadow and revelation the substance. "nor is it reasonable," said he, "that the divine will should be made the subject of controversy with us." zwingli, anticipating descartes's "finitum infiniti capax non est," stated that our small minds could not grasp god's plan. oecolampadius, dying, said that he wanted no more light than he then had--an instructive contrast to goethe's last words: "mehr licht!" even bacon, either from prudence or conviction, said that theological mysteries seeming absurd to reason must be believed. [sidenote: radical sects] nor were the radical sects a whit more rational. those who represented the protest against protestantism and the dissidence of dissent appealed to the bible as an authority and abhorred reason as much as did the orthodox churches. the antitrinitarians were no more deists or free thinkers than were the lutherans. campanus and adam pastor and servetus and the sozinis had no aversion to the supernatural and made no claim to reduce christianity to a humanitarian deism, as some modern unitarians would do. their doubts were simply based on a different exegesis of the biblical texts. fausto sozini thought christ was "a subaltern god to whom at a certain time the supreme god gave over the government of the world." servetus defined the trinity to be "not an illusion of three invisible things, but the manifestation of god { } in the word and a communication of the substance of god in the spirit." this is no new rationalism coming in but a reversion to an obsolete heresy, that of paul of samosata. it does not surprise us to find servetus lecturing on astrology. [sidenote: spiritual reformers] somewhat to the left of the antitrinitarian sects were a few men, who had hardly any followers, who may be called, for want of a better term, spiritual reformers. they sought, quite in the nineteenth century spirit, to make christianity nothing but an ethical culture. james acontius, born in trent [sidenote: ] but naturalized in england, published his _stratagems of satan_ in to reduce the fundamental doctrines of christianity to the very fewest possible. sebastian franck of ingolstadt [sidenote: franck, - ] found the only authority for each man in his inward, spiritual message. he sought to found no community or church, but to get only readers. these men passed almost unnoticed in their day. [sidenote: italian skeptics] there was much skepticism throughout the century. complete pyrrhonism under a thin veil of lip-conformity, was preached by peter pomponazzi, [sidenote: pomponazzi, - ] professor of philosophy at padua, ferrara and bologna. his _de immortalitate animi_ [sidenote: ] caused a storm by its plain conclusion that the soul perished with the body. he tried to make the distinction in his favor that a thing might be true in religion and false in philosophy. thus he denied his belief in demons and spirits as a philosopher, while affirming that he believed in them as a christian. he was in fact a materialist. he placed christianity, mohammedanism and judaism on the same level, broadly hinting that all were impostures. public opinion became so interested in the subject of immortality at this time that when another philosopher, simon porzio, tried to lecture on meteorology at pisa, his audience interrupted him with cries, "quid de anima?" he, also, maintained that the soul of man { } was like that of the beasts. but he had few followers who dared to express such an opinion. after the inquisition had shown its teeth, the life of the italian nation was like that of its great poet, tasso, whose youth was spent at the feet of the jesuits and whose manhood was haunted by fears of having unwittingly done something that might be punished by the stake. it was to counteract the pagan opinion, stated to be rapidly growing, that the vatican council forbade all clerics to lecture on the classics for five years. but in vain! a report of paul iii's cardinals charged professors of philosophy with teaching impiety. indeed, the whole literature of contemporary italy, from machiavelli, who treated christianity as a false and noxious superstition, to pulci who professed belief in nothing but pleasure, is saturated with free thought. "vanity makes most humanists skeptics," wrote ariosto, "why is it that learning and infidelity go hand in hand?" [sidenote: german skeptics] in germany, too, there was some free thought, the most celebrated case being that of the "godless painters of nuremberg," hans sebald beham, bartholomew beham, and george penz. the first named expressed some doubts about various protestant doctrines. bartholomew went further, asserting that baptism was a human device, that the scriptures could not be believed and that the preaching he had heard was but idle talk, producing no fruit in the life of the preacher himself; he recognized no superior authority but that of god. george penz went further still, for while he admitted the existence of god he asserted that his nature was unknowable, and that he could believe neither in christ nor in the scriptures nor in the sacraments. the men were banished from the city. [sidenote: french skeptics] in france, as in italy, the opening of the century saw signs of increasing skepticism in the frequent { } trials of heretics who denied all christian doctrines and "all principles save natural ones." but a spirit far more dangerous to religion than any mere denial incarnated itself in rabelais. he did not philosophize, but he poured forth a torrent of the raw material from which philosophies are made. he did not argue or attack; he rose like a flood or a tide until men found themselves either swimming in the sea of mirth and mockery, or else swept off their feet by it. he studied law, theology and medicine; he travelled in germany and italy and he read the classics, the schoolmen, the humanists and the heretics. and he found everywhere that nature and life were good and nothing evil in the world save its deniers. to live according to nature he built, in his story, the abbey of thélème, a sort of hedonist's or anarchist's utopia where men and women dwell together under the rule, "do what thou wilt," and which has over its gates the punning invitation: "cy entrez, vous, qui le saint evangile en sens agile annoncez, quoy qu'on gronde." for rabelais there was nothing sacred, or even serious in "revealed religion," and god was "that intellectual sphere the center of which is everywhere and the circumference nowhere." rabelais was not the only frenchman to burlesque the religious quarrels of the day. bonaventure des périers, [sidenote: des périers, d. ] in a work called _cymbalum mundi_, introduced luther under the anagram of rethulus, a catholic as tryocan (_i.e._, croyant) and a skeptic as du glenier (_i.e._, incrédule), debating their opinions in a way that redounded much to the advantage of the last named. then there was stephen dolet [sidenote: dolet, - ] the humanist publisher of lyons, burned to death as an atheist, because, in translating the axiochos, a dialogue then attributed to plato, he had written "after death you will be nothing at all" instead of "after death you will be no { } more," as the original is literally to be construed. the charge was frivolous, but the impression was doubtless correct that he was a rather indifferent skeptic, disdainful of religion. he, too, considered the reformers only to reject them as too much like their enemies. no christian church could hold the worshipper of cicero and of letters, of glory and of humanity. and yet this sad and restless man, who found the taste of life as bitter as rabelais had found it sweet, died for his faith. he was the martyr of the renaissance. [sidenote: bodin] a more systematic examination of religion was made by jean bodin in his _colloquy on secret and sublime matters_, commonly called the _heptaplomeres_. though not published until long after the author's death, it had a brisk circulation in manuscript and won a reputation for impiety far beyond its deserts. it is simply a conversation between a jew, a mohammedan, a lutheran, a zwinglian, a catholic, an epicurean and a theist. the striking thing about it is the fairness with which all sides are presented; there is no summing up in favor of one faith rather than another. nevertheless, the conclusion would force itself upon the reader that among so many religions there was little choice; that there was something true and something false in all; and that the only necessary articles were those on which all agreed. bodin was half way between a theist and a deist; he believed that the decalogue was a natural law imprinted in all men's hearts and that judaism was the nearest to being a natural religion. he admitted, however, that the chain of casuality was broken by miracle and he believed in witchcraft. it cannot be thought that he was wholly without personal faith, like machiavelli, and yet his strong argument against changing religion even if the new be better than the old, is entirely worldly. with france before his { } eyes, it is not strange that he drew the general conclusion that any change of religion is dangerous and sure to be followed by war, pestilence, famine and demoniacal possession. [sidenote: montaigne] after the fiery stimulants, compounded of brimstone and stygian hatred, offered by calvin and the catholics, and after the plethoric gorge of good cheer at gargantua's table, the mild sedative of montaigne's conversation comes like a draft of nepenthe or the fruit of the lotus. in him we find no blast and blaze of propaganda, no fulmination of bull and ban; nor any tide of earth-encircling rabelaisian mirth. his words fall as softly and as thick as snowflakes, and they leave his world a white page, with all vestiges of previous writings erased. he neither asseverates nor denies; he merely, as he puts it himself, "juggles," treating of idle subjects which he believes nothing at all, for he has noticed that as soon one denies the possibility of anything, someone else will say that he has seen it. in short, truth is a near neighbor to falsehood, and the wise man can only repeat, "que sais-je?" let us live delicately and quietly, finding the world worth enjoying, but not worth troubling about. wide as are the differences between the greek thinker and the french, there is something socratic in the way in which montaigne takes up every subject only to suggest doubts of previously held opinion about it. if he remained outwardly a catholic, it was because he saw exactly as much to doubt in other religions. almost all opinions, he urges, are taken on authority, for when men begin to reason they draw diametrically opposite conclusions from the same observed facts. he was in the civil wars esteemed an enemy by all parties, though it was only because he had both huguenot and catholic friends. "i have seen in germany," he wrote, "that luther hath left as many { } divisions and altercations concerning the doubt of his opinions, yea, and more, than he himself moveth about the holy scriptures." the reformers, in fact, had done nothing but reform superficial faults and had either left the essential ones untouched, or increased them. how foolish they were to imagine that the people could understand the bible if they could only read it in their own language! montaigne was the first to feel the full significance of the multiplicity of sects. [sidenote: multiplicity of sects] "is there any opinion so fantastical, or conceit so extravagant . . . or opinion so strange," he asked, "that custom hath not established and planted by laws in some region?" usage sanctions every monstrosity, including incest and parricide in some places, and in others "that unsociable opinion of the mortality of the soul." indeed, montaigne comes back to the point, a man's belief does not depend on his reason, but on where he was born and how brought up. "to an atheist all writings make for atheism." "we receive our religion but according to our fashion. . . . another country, other testimonies, equal promises, like menaces, might sembably imprint a clean contrary religion in us." piously hoping that he has set down nothing repugnant to the prescriptions of the catholic, apostolic and roman church, where he was born and out of which he purposes not to die, montaigne proceeds to demonstrate that god is unknowable. a man cannot grasp more than his hand will hold nor straddle more than his legs' length. not only all religions, but all scientists give the lie to each other. copernicus, having recently overthrown the old astronomy, may be later overthrown himself. in like manner the new medical science of paracelsus contradicts the old and may in turn pass away. the same facts appear differently to different men, and "nothing comes to us but falsified { } and altered by our senses." probability is as hard to get as truth, for a man's mind is changed by illness, or even by time, and by his wishes. even skepticism is uncertain, for "when the pyrrhonians say, 'i doubt,' you have them fast by the throat to make them avow that at least you are assured and know that they doubt." in short, "nothing is certain but uncertainty," and "nothing seemeth true that may not seem false." montaigne wrote of pleasure as the chief end of man, and of death as annihilation. the glory of philosophy is to teach men to despise death. one should do so by remembering that it is as great folly to weep because one would not be alive a hundred years hence as it would be to weep because one had not been living a hundred years ago. [sidenote: charron, - ] a disciple who dotted the i's and crossed the t's of montaigne was peter charron. he, too, played off the contradictions of the sects against each other. all claim inspiration and who can tell which inspiration is right? can the same spirit tell the catholic that the books of maccabees are canonical and tell luther that they are not? the senses are fallible and the soul, located by charron in a ventricle of the brain, is subject to strange disturbances. many things almost universally believed, like immortality, cannot be proved. man is like the lower animals. "we believe, judge, act, live and die on faith," but this faith is poorly supported, for all religions and all authorities are but of human origin. [sidenote: english skeptics] english thought followed rather than led that of europe throughout the century. at first tolerant and liberal, it became violently religious towards the middle of the period and then underwent a strong reaction in the direction of indifference and atheism. for the first years, before the reformation, the _utopia_ may serve as an example. more, under the influence { } of the italian platonists, pictured his ideal people as adherents of a deistic, humanitarian religion, with few priests and holy, tolerant of everything save intolerance. they worshipped one god, believed in immortality and yet thought that "the chief felicity of man" lay in the pursuit of rational pleasure. whether more depicted this cult simply to fulfil the dramatic probabilities and to show what was natural religion among men before revelation came to them, or whether his own opinions altered in later life, it is certain that he became robustly catholic. he spent much time in religious controversy and resorted to austerities. in one place he tells of a lewd gallant who asked a friar why he gave himself the pain of walking barefoot. answered that this pain was less than hell, the gallant replied, "if there be no hell, what a fool are you," and received the retort, "if there be hell, what a fool are you." sir thomas evidently believed there was a hell, or preferred to take no chances. in one place he argues at length that many and great miracles daily take place at shrines. the feverish crisis of the reformation was followed in the reign of elizabeth by an epidemic of skepticism. widely as it was spread there can be found little philosophical thought in it. it was simply the pendulum pulled far to the right swinging back again to the extreme left. the suspicions expressed that the queen herself was an atheist were unfounded, but it is impossible to dismiss as easily the numerous testimonies of infidelity among her subjects. roger ascham wrote in his _schoolmaster_ [sidenote: ] that the "incarnate devils" of englishmen returned from italy said "there is no god" and then, "they first lustily condemn god, then scornfully mock his word . . . counting as fables the holy mysteries of religion. they make christ and his gospel only serve civil policies. . . . they boldly laugh { } to scorn both protestant and papist. they confess no scripture. . . . they mock the pope; they rail on luther. . . . they are epicures in living and [greek] _atheoi_ in doctrine." [sidenote: ] in like manner cecil wrote: "the service of god and the sincere profession of christianity are much decayed, and in place of it, partly papistry, partly paganism and irreligion have crept in. . . . baptists, deriders of religion, epicureans and atheists are everywhere." ten years later john lyly wrote that "there never were such sects among the heathens, such schisms among the turks, such misbelief among infidels as is now among scholars." the same author wrote a dialogue, _euphues and atheos_, to convince skeptics, while from the pulpit the puritan henry smith shot "god's arrow against atheists." according to thomas nash [sidenote: ] (_pierce penniless's supplication to the devil_) atheists are now triumphing and rejoicing, scorning the bible, proving that there were men before adam and even maintaining "that there are no divells." marlowe and some of his associates were suspected of atheism. in john baldwin, examined before star chamber, "questioned whether there were a god; if there were, how he should be known; if by his word, who wrote the same, if the prophets and the apostles, they were but men and _humanum est errare_." the next year robert fisher maintained before the same court that "christ was no saviour and that the gospel was a fable." [sidenote: bacon] that one of the prime causes of all this skepticism was to be found in the religious revolution was the opinion of francis bacon. although bacon's philosophic thought is excluded from consideration by the chronological limits of this book, it may be permissible to quote his words on this subject. in one place he says that where there are two religions contending for { } mastery their mutual animosity will add warmth to conviction and rather strengthen the adherents of each in their own opinions, but where there are more than two they will breed doubt. in another place he says: heresies and schisms are of all others the greatest scandals, yea more than corruption of manners. . . . so that nothing doth so keep men out of the church and drive men out of the church as breach of unity. . . . the doctor of the gentiles saith, "if an heathen come in and hear you speak with several tongues, will he not say that you are mad?" and certainly it is little better when atheists and profane persons hear of so many discordant and contrary opinions in religion. but while bacon saw that when doctors disagree the common man will lose all faith in them, it was not to religion but to science that he looked for the reformation of philosophy. theology, in bacon's judgment, was a chief enemy to philosophy, for it seduced men from scientific pursuit of truth to the service of dogma. "you may find all access to any species of philosophy," said bacon, "however pure, intercepted by the ignorance of divines." the thought here expressed but sums up the actual trend of the sixteenth century in the direction of separating philosophy and religion. in modern times the philosopher has found his inspiration far more in science than in religion, and the turning-point came about the time of, and largely as a consequence of, the new observation of nature, and particularly the new astronomy. [sidenote: revolt against aristotle] the prologue to the drama of the new thought was revolt against aristotle. "the master of them who know" had become, after the definite acceptance of his works as standard texts in the universities of the thirteenth century, an inspired and infallible authority { } for all science. with him were associated the schoolmen who debated the question of realism versus nominalism. but as the mind of man grew and advanced, what had been once the brace became a galling bond. all parties united to make common cause against the stagyrite. the italian platonists attacked him in the name of their, and his, master. luther opined that no one had ever understood aristotle's meaning, that the ethics of that "damned heathen" directly contradicted christian virtue, that any potter would know more of natural science than he, and that it would be well if he who had started the debate on realism and nominalism had never been born. catholics like usingen protested at the excessive reverence given to aristotle at the expense of christ. finally, the french scientist peter ramus [sidenote: ramus, c. - ] advanced the thesis at the university of paris that everything taught by aristotle was false. no authority, he argued, is superior to reason, for it is reason which creates and determines authority. [sidenote: effect of science on philosophy] in place of aristotle men turned to nature. "whosoever in discussion adduces authority uses not intellect but memory," said leonardo. vives urged that experiment was the only road to truth. the discoveries of natural laws led to a new conception of external reality, independent of man's wishes and egocentric theories. it also gave rise to the conception of uniformity of law. copernicus sought and found a mathematical unity in the heavens. it was, above all else, his astronomy that fought the battle of, and won the victory for, the new principles of research. its glory was not so much its positive addition to knowledge, great as that was, but its mode of thought. by pure reason a new system was established and triumphed over the testimony of the senses and of all { } previous authority, even that which purported to be revelation. man was reduced to a creature of law; god was defined as an expression of law. how much was man's imagination touched, how was his whole thought and purpose changed by the copernican discovery! no longer lord of a little, bounded world, man crept as a parasite on a grain of dust spinning eternally through endless space. and with the humiliation came a great exaltation. for this tiny creature could now seal the stars and bind the pleiades and sound each deep abyss that held a sun. what new sublimity of thought, what greatness of soul was not his! to copernicus belongs properly the praise lavished by lucretius on epicurus, of having burst the flaming bounds of the world and of having made man equal to heaven. the history of the past, the religion of the present, the science of the future--all ideas were transmuted, all values reversed by this new and wonderful hypothesis. but all this, of course, was but dimly sensed by the contemporaries of copernicus. what they really felt was the new compulsion of natural law and the necessity of causation. leonardo was led thus far by his study of mathematics, which he regarded as the key to natural science. he even went so far as to define time as a sort of non-geometrical space. [sidenote: theory of knowledge] two things were necessary to a philosophy in harmony with the scientific view; the first was a new theory of knowledge, the second was a new conception of the ultimate reality in the universe. paracelsus contributed to the first in the direction of modern empiricism, by defending understanding as that which comprehended exactly the thing that the hand touched and the eyes saw. several immature attempts were made at scientific skepticism. that of cornelius agrippa--_de incertitudine et vanitate scientiarum et { } artium atque excellentia verbi dei declamatio_--can hardly be taken seriously, as it was regarded by the author himself rather as a clever paradox. francis sanchez, on the other hand, formulated a tenable theory of the impossibility of knowing anything. a riper theory of perception, following paracelsus and anticipating leibnitz, was that of edward digby, based on the notion of the active correspondence between mind and matter. [sidenote: the ultimate reality] to the thinker of the sixteenth century the solution of the question of the ultimate reality seemed to demand some form of identification of the world-soul with matter. paracelsus and gilbert both felt in the direction of hylozoism, or the theory of the animation of all things. if logically carried out, as it was not by them, this would have meant that everything was god. the other alternative, that god was everything, was developed by a remarkable man, who felt for the new science the enthusiasm of a religious convert, giordano bruno. [sidenote: bruno, - ] born at nola near naples, he entered in his fifteenth year the dominican friary. this step he soon regretted, and, after being disciplined for disobedience, fled, first to rome and then to geneva. thence he wandered to france, to england, and to wittenberg [sidenote: ] and prague, lecturing at several universities, including oxford. in he was lured back to italy, was imprisoned by the inquisition, and after long years was finally burnt at the stake in rome. [sidenote: february , ] in religion bruno was an eclectic, if not a skeptic. at wittenberg he spoke of luther as "a second hercules who bound the three-headed and triply-crowned hound of hell and forced him to vomit forth his poison." but in italy he wrote that he despised the reformers as more ignorant than himself. his _expulsion of the triumphant beast_, in the disguise of an { } attack on the heathen mythology, is in reality an assault on revealed religion. his treatise _on the heroic passions_ aims to show that moral virtues are not founded on religion but on reason. [sidenote: the new astronomy] the enthusiasm that bruno lacked for religion he felt in almost boundless measure for the new astronomy, "by which," as he himself wrote, "we are moved to discover the infinite cause of an infinite effect, and are led to contemplate the deity not as though outside, apart, and distant from us, but in ourselves. for, as deity is situated wholly everywhere, so it is as near us as we can be to ourselves." from nicholos of cusa bruno had learned that god may be found in the smallest as in the greatest things in the world; the smallest being as endless in power as the greatest is infinite in energy, and all being united in the "monad," or "the one." now, bruno's philosophy is nothing but the cosmological implication and the metaphysical justification of the copernician theory in the conceptual terms of nicholas of cusa. liberated from the tyranny of dogma and of the senses, dazzled by the whirling maze of worlds without end scattered like blazing sparks throughout space, drunk with the thought of infinity, he poured forth a paean of breathing thoughts and burning words to celebrate his new faith, the religion of science. the universe for him was composed of atoms, tiny "minima" that admit no further division. each one of these is a "monad," or unity, comprised in some higher unity until finally "the monad of monads" was found in god. but this was no tribal jehovah, no personal, anthropomorphic deity, but a first principle; nearly identical with natural law. { } chapter xiii the temper of the times section . tolerance and intolerance because religion has in the past protested its own intolerance the most loudly, it is commonly regarded as the field of persecution _par excellence_. this is so far from being the case that it is just in the field of religion that the greatest liberty has been, after a hard struggle, won. it is as if the son who refused to work in the vineyard had been forcibly hauled thither, whereas the other son, admitting his willingness to go, had been left out. nowadays in most civilized countries a man would suffer more inconvenience by going bare-foot and long-haired than by proclaiming novel religious views; he would be in vastly more danger by opposing the prevalent patriotic or economic doctrines, or by violating some possibly irrational convention, than he would by declaring his agnosticism or atheism. the reason of this state of things is that in the field of religion a tremendous battle between opposing faiths was once fought, with exhaustion as the result, and that the rationalists then succeeded in imposing on the two parties, convinced that neither could exterminate the other, respect for each other's rights. [sidenote: intolerance, catholics] this battle was fought in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. almost all religions and almost all statesmen were then equally intolerant when they had the power to be so. the catholic church, with that superb consistency that no new light can alter, has { } always asserted that the opinion that everyone should have freedom of conscience [sidenote: freedom of conscience] was "madness flowing from the most foul fountain of indifference." [ ] augustine believed that the church should "compel men to enter in" to the kingdom, by force. aquinas argued that faith is a virtue, infidelity of those who have heard the truth a sin, and that "heretics deserve not only to be excommunicated but to be put to death." one of luther's propositions condemned by the bull _exsurge domine_ was that it is against the will of the holy ghost to put heretics to death. when erasmus wrote: "who ever heard orthodox bishops incite kings to slaughter heretics who were nothing else than heretics?" the proposition was condemned, by the sorbonne, as repugnant to the laws of nature, of god and of man. the power of the pope to depose and punish heretical princes was asserted in the bull of february , . the theory of the catholic church was put into instant practice; the duty of persecution was carried out by the holy office, of which lord acton, though himself a catholic, has said:[ ] the inquisition is peculiarly the weapon and peculiarly the work of the popes. it stands out from all those things in which they co-operated, followed or assented, as the distinctive feature of papal rome. . . . it is the principal thing with which the papacy is identified and by which it must be judged. the principle of the inquisition is murderous, and a man's opinion of the papacy is regulated and determined by his opinion about religious assassination. but acton's judgment, just, as it is severe, is not the judgment of the church. a prelate of the papal { } household published in , the following words in the _annales ecclesiastici_:[ ] some sons of darkness nowadays with dilated nostrils and wild eyes inveigh against the intolerance of the middle ages. but let not us, blinded by that liberalism that bewitches under the guise of wisdom, seek for silly little reasons to defend the inquisition! let no one speak of the condition of the times and intemperate zeal, as if the church needed excuses. o blessed flames of those pyres by which a very few crafty and insignificant persons were taken away that hundreds of hundreds of phalanxes of souls should be saved from the jaws of error and eternal damnation! o noble and venerable memory of torquemada! [sidenote: protestants] so much for the catholics. if any one still harbors the traditional prejudice that the early protestants were more liberal, he must be undeceived. save for a few splendid sayings of luther, [sidenote: luther] confined to the early years when he was powerless, there is hardly anything to be found among the leading reformers in favor of freedom of conscience. as soon as they had the power to persecute they did. in his first period luther expressed the theory of toleration as well as anyone can. he wrote: "the pope is no judge of matters pertaining to god's word and the faith, but a christian must examine and judge them himself, as he must live and die by thorn." again he said: "heresy can never be prevented by force. . . . heresy is a spiritual thing; it cannot be cut with iron nor burnt with fire nor drowned in water." and yet again, "faith is free. what could a heresy trial do? no more than make people agree by mouth or in writing; it could not compel the heart. for true is the proverb: 'thoughts are free of taxes.'" even { } when the anabaptists began to preach doctrines that he thoroughly disliked, luther at first advised the government to leave them unmolested to teach and believe what they liked, "be it gospel or lies." but alas for the inconsistency of human nature! when luther's party ripened into success, he saw things quite differently. the first impulse came from the civil magistrate, whom the theologians at first endured, then justified and finally urged on. all persons save priests were forbidden [sidenote: february , ] by the elector john of saxony to preach or baptize, a measure aimed at the anabaptists. in the same year, under this law, twelve men and one woman were put to death, and such executions were repeated several times in the following years, _e.g._ in , and . in the year came the terrible imperial law, passed by an alliance of catholics and lutherans at the diet of spires, condemning all anabaptists to death, and interpreted to cover cases of simple heresy in which no breath of sedition mingled. a regular inquisition was set up in saxony, with melanchthon on the bench, and under it many persons were punished, some with death, some with life imprisonment, and some with exile. while luther took no active part in these proceedings, and on several occasions gave the opinion that exile was the only proper punishment, he also, at other times, justified persecution on the ground that he was suppressing not heresy but blasphemy. as he interpreted blasphemy, in a work published about , it included the papal mass, the denial of the divinity of christ or of any other "manifest article of the faith, clearly grounded in scripture and believed throughout christendom." the government should also, in his opinion, put to death those who preached sedition, anarchy or the abolition of private property. [sidenote: melanchthon] melanchthon was far more active in the pursuit of { } heretics than was his older friend. he reckoned the denial of infant baptism, or of original sin, and the opinion that the eucharistic bread did not contain the real body and blood of christ, as blasphemy properly punishable by death. he blamed brenz for his tolerance, asking why we should pity heretics more than does god, who sends them to eternal torment? brenz was convinced by this argument and became a persecutor himself. [sidenote: bucer and capito] the strassburgers, who tried to take a position intermediate between lutherans and zwinglians, were as intolerant as any one else. they put to death a man for saying that christ was a mere man and a false prophet, and then defended this act in a long manifesto asking whether all religious customs of antiquity, such as the violation of women, be tolerated, and, if not, why they should draw the line at those who aimed not at the physical dishonor, but at the eternal damnation, of their wives and daughters? [sidenote: zwingli] the swiss also punished for heresy. felix manz was put to death by drowning, [sidenote: january , ] the method of punishment chosen as a practical satire on his doctrine of baptism of adults by immersion. at the same time george blaurock was cruelly beaten and banished under threat of death. [sidenote: september , ] zurich, berne and st. gall published a joint edict condemning anabaptists to death, and under this law two anabaptists were sentenced in and two more in . [sidenote: calvin] in judicially murdering servetus the genevans were absolutely consistent with calvin's theory. in the preface to the _institutes_ he admitted the right of the government to put heretics to death and only argued that protestants were not heretics. grounding himself on the law of moses, he said that the death decreed by god to idolatry in the old testament was a universal law binding on christians. he thought that { } christians should hate the enemies of god as much as did david, and when renée of ferrara suggested that that law might have been abrogated by the new dispensation, calvin retorted that any such gloss on a plain text would overturn the whole bible. calvin went further, and when castellio argued that heretics should not be punished with death, calvin said that those who defended heretics in this manner were equally culpable and should be equally punished. given the premises of the theologians, their arguments were unanswerable. of late the opinion has prevailed that his faith cannot be wrong whose life is in the right. but then it was believed that the creed was the all-important thing; that god would send to hell those who entertained wrong notions of his scheme of salvation. "we utterly abhor," says the scots' confession of , "the blasphemy of those that affirm that men who live according to equity and justice shall be saved, what religion so ever they have professed." [sidenote: tolerance] against this flood of bigotry a few christians ventured to protest in the name of their master. in general, the persecuted sects, anabaptists and unitarians, were firmly for tolerance, by which their own position would have been improved. [sidenote: erasmus] erasmus was thoroughly tolerant in spirit and, though he never wrote a treatise specially devoted to the subject, uttered many _obiter dicta_ in favor of mercy and wrote many letters to the great ones of the earth interceding for the oppressed. his broad sympathies, his classical tastes, his horror of the tumult, and his christ-like spirit, would not have permitted him to resort to the coarse arms of rack and stake even against infidels and turks. the noblest plea for tolerance from the christian standpoint was that written by sebastian castellio [sidenote: castellio] as a protest against the execution of servetus. he { } collects all the authorities ancient and modern, the latter including luther and erasmus and even some words, inconsistent with the rest of his life, written by calvin himself. "the more one knows of the truth the less one is inclined to condemnation of others," he wisely observes, and yet, "there is no sect which does not condemn all others and wish to reign alone. thence come banishments, exiles, chains, imprisonments, burnings, scaffolds and the miserable rage of torture and torment that is plied every day because of some opinions not pleasing to the government, or even because of things unknown." but christians burn not only infidels but even each other, for the heretic calls on the name of christ as he perishes in agony. who would not think that christ were moloch, or some such god, if he wished that men be immolated to him and burnt alive? . . . imagine that christ, the judge of all, were present and himself pronounced sentence and lit the fire,--who would not take christ for satan? for what else would satan do than burn those who call on the name of christ? o christ, creator of the world, dost thou see such things? and hast thou become so totally different from what thou wast, so cruel and contrary to thyself? when thou wast on earth, there was no one gentler or more compassionate or more patient of injuries. calvin called upon his henchmen beza to answer this "blasphemy" of one that must surely be "the chosen vessel of satan." beza replied to castellio that god had given the sword to the magistrate not to be borne in vain and that it was better to have even a cruel tyrant than to allow everyone to do as he pleased. those who forbid the punishment of heresy are, in beza's opinion, despisers of god's word and might as well say that even parricides should not be chastized. two authors quoted in favor of tolerance more than { } they deserve to be are sir thomas more [sidenote: more] and montaigne. in utopia, indeed, there was no persecution, save of the fanatic who wished to persecute others. but even in utopia censure of the government by a private individual was punishable by death. and, twelve years after the publication of the _utopia_, more came to argue "that the burning of heretics is lawful and well done," and he did it himself accordingly. the reason he gave, in his _dialogue_, was that heretics also persecute, and that it would put the catholics at an unfair disadvantage to allow heresy to wax unhindered until it grew great enough to crush them. there is something in this argument. it is like that today used against disarmament, that any nation which started it would put itself at the mercy of its rivals. [sidenote: montaigne] the spirit of montaigne was thoroughly tolerant, because he was always able to see both sides of everything; one might even say that he was negatively suggestible, and always saw the "other" side of an opinion better than he saw his own side of it. he never came out strongly for toleration, but he made two extremely sage remarks about it. the first was that it was setting a high value on our own conjectures to put men to death for their sake. the second was thus phrased, in the old english translation: "it might be urged that to give factions the bridle to uphold their opinion, is by that facility and ease, the ready way to mollify and release them; and to blunt the edge, which is sharpened by rareness, novelty and difficulty." had the course of history been decided by weight of argument, persecution would have been fastened on the world forever, for the consensus of opinion was overwhelmingly against liberty of conscience. but just as individuals are rarely converted on any vital question by argument, so the course of races and of civilizations is decided by factors lying deeper than { } the logic of publicists can reach. modern toleration developed from two very different sources; by one of which the whole point of view of the race has changed, and by the other of which a truce between warring factions, at first imposed as bitter necessity, has developed, because of its proved value, into a permanent peace. [sidenote: renaissance] the first cause of modern tolerance is the growing rationalism of which the seeds were sown by the renaissance. the generation before luther saw an almost unparalleled liberty in the expression of learned opinion. valla could attack pope, bible and christian ethics; pomponazzi could doubt the immortality of the soul; more could frame a utopia of deists, and machiavelli could treat religion as an instrument in the hands of knaves to dupe fools. as far as it went this liberty was admirable; but it was really narrow and "academic" in the worst sense of the word. the scholars who vindicated for themselves the right to say and think what they pleased in the learned tongue and in university halls, never dreamed that the people had the same rights. even erasmus was always urging luther not to communicate imprudent truths to the vulgar, and when he kept on doing so erasmus was so vexed that he "cared not whether luther was roasted or boiled" for it. erasmus's good friend ammonius jocosely complained that heretics were so plentiful in england in before the reformation had been heard of, that the demand for faggots to burn them was enhancing the price of fire-wood. indeed, in this enlightened era of the renaissance, what porridge was handed to the common people? what was free, except dentistry, to the jews, expelled from spain and portugal and persecuted everywhere else? what tolerance was extended to the hussites? what mercy was shown to the lollards or to savonarola? { } [sidenote: reformation] paradoxical as it may seem to say it, after what has been said of the intolerance of the reformers, the second cause that extended modern freedom of conscience from the privileged few to the masses, was the reformation. overclouding, as it did for a few years, all the glorious culture of the renaissance with a dark mist of fanaticism, it nevertheless proved, contrary to its own purpose, one of the two parents of liberty. what neither the common ground of the christians in doctrine, nor their vaunted love of god, nor their enlightenment by the spirit, could produce, was finally wrung from their mutual and bitter hatreds. of all the fair flowers that have sprung from a dark and noisome soil, that of religious liberty sprouting from religious war has been the fairest. the steps were gradual. first, after the long deadlock of lutheran and catholic, came to be worked out the principle of the toleration of the two churches, [sidenote: ] embodied in the peace of augsburg. the compact of warsaw [sidenote: ] granted absolute religious liberty to the nobles. the people of the netherlands, sickened with slaughter in the name of the faith, took a longer step in the direction of toleration in the union of utrecht. [sidenote: ] the government of elizabeth, acting from prudential motives only, created and maintained an extra-legal tolerance of catholics, again and again refusing to molest those who were peaceable and quiet. the papists even hoped to obtain legal recognition when francis bacon proposed to tolerate all christians except those who refused to fight a foreign enemy. france found herself in a like position, [sidenote: ] and solved it by allowing the two religions to live side by side in the edict of nantes. the furious hatred of the christians for each other blazed forth in the thirty years war, [sidenote: ] but after that lesson persecution on a large scale was at an end. indeed, before its end, wide religious { } liberty had been granted in some of the american colonies, notably in rhode island and maryland. [ ] gregory xvi, encyclical, _mirari vos_, . [ ] _letters to mary gladstone_, ed. h. paul, , p. f. [ ] c. mirbt: _quellen zur geschichte des papsttums_, , , p. . section . witchcraft some analogy to the wave of persecution and confessional war that swept over europe at this time can be found in the witchcraft craze. both were examples of those manias to which mankind is periodically subject. they run over the face of the earth like epidemics or as a great fire consumes a city. beginning in a few isolated cases, so obscure as to be hard to trace, the mania gathers strength until it burns with its maximum fierceness and then, having exhausted itself, as it were, dies away, often quite suddenly. such manias were the children's crusade and the zeal of the flagellants in the middle ages. such have been the mad speculations as that of the south sea bubble and the panics that repeatedly visit our markets. to the same category belong the religious and superstitious delusions of the sixteenth century. the history of these mental epidemics is easier to trace than their causes. certainly, reason does nothing to control them. in almost every case there are a few sane men to point out, with perfect rationality, the nature of the folly to their contemporaries, but in all cases their words fall on deaf ears. they are mocked, imprisoned, sometimes put to death for their pains, whereas any fanatical fool that adds fuel to the flame of current passion is listened to, rewarded and followed. [sidenote: ancient magic] the original stuff from which the mania was wrought is a savage survival. hebrew and roman law dealt with witchcraft. the middle ages saw the survival of magic, still called in italy, "the old religion," and new superstitions added to it. something of the ancient enchantment still lies upon the { } fairylands of europe. in the apennines one sometimes comes upon a grove of olives or cypresses as gnarled and twisted as the tortured souls that dante imagined them to be. who can wander through the heaths and mountains of the scotch highlands, with their uncanny harmonies of silver mist and grey cloud and glint of water and bare rock and heather, and not see in the distance the weird sisters crooning over their horrible cauldron? in germany the forests are magic-mad. walking under the huge oaks of the thuringian forest or the taunus, or in the pine woods of hesse, one can see the flutter of airy garments in the chequered sunlight falling upon fern and moss; one can glimpse goblins and kobolds hiding behind the roots and rocks; one can hear the king of the willows[ ] and the bride of the wind moaning and calling in the rustling of the leaves. on a summer's day the calm of pools is so complete that it seems as if, according to luther's words, the throwing of a stone into the water would raise a tempest. but on moonlit, windy, walpurgis night, witches audibly ride by, hooted at by the owls, and vast spectres dance in the cloud-banks beyond the brocken. [sidenote: the witch] the witch has become a typical figure: she was usually a simple, old woman living in a lonely cottage with a black cat, gathering herbs by the light of the moon. but she was not always an ancient beldam; some witches were known as the purest and fairest maidens of the village; some were ladies in high station; some were men. a ground for suspicion was sometimes furnished by the fact that certain charletans playing upon the credulity of the ignorant, professed to be able by sorcery to find money, "to provoke persons to love," or to consume the body and goods of a client's enemy. black magic was occasionally resorted to to get rid { } of personal or political enemies. more often a wise woman would be sought for her skill in herbs and her very success in making cures would sometimes be her undoing. [sidenote: the devil] if the witch was a domestic article in europe, the devil was an imported luxury from asia. like aeneas and many another foreign conqueror, when he came to rule the land he married its princess--in this case hulda the pristine goddess of love and beauty--and adopted many of the native customs. it is difficult for us to imagine what a personage the devil was in the age of the reformation. like all geniuses he had a large capacity for work and paid great attention to detail. frequently he took the form of a cat or a black dog with horns to frighten children by "skipping to and fro and sitting upon the top of a nettle"; again he would obligingly hold a review of evil spirits for the satisfaction of benvenuto cellini's curiosity. he was at the bottom of all the earthquakes, pestilences, famines and wars of the century, and also, if we may trust their mutual recriminations, he was the special patron of the pope on the one hand and of calvin on the other. luther often talked with him, though in doing so the sweat poured from his brow and his heart almost stopped beating. luther admitted that the devil always got the best of an argument and could only be banished by some unprintably nasty epithets hurled at his head. satan and his satellites often took the form of men or women and under the name of incubi and succubi had sexual intercourse with mortals. one of the most abominable features of the witch craze was that during its height hundreds of children of four or five years old confessed to being the devil's paramours. so great was the power of satan that, in the common belief, many persons bartered their souls to him { } in return for supernatural gifts in this life. to compensate them for the loss of their salvation, these persons, the witches, were enabled to do acts of petty spite to their neighbors, turning milk sour, blighting crops, causing sickness to man and animals, making children cry themselves to death before baptism, rendering marriages barren, procuring abortion, and giving charms to blind a husband to his wife's adultery, or philters to compel love. [sidenote: witches' sabbath] on certain nights the witches and devils met for the celebration of blasphemous and obscene rites in an assembly known as the witches' sabbath. to enable themselves to ride to the meeting-place on broomsticks, the witches procured a communion wafer, applied a toad to it, burned it, mingled its ashes with the blood of an infant, the powdered bones of a hanged man and certain herbs. the meeting then indulged in a parody of the mass, for, so the grave doctors taught, as christ had his sacraments the devil had his "unsacraments" or "execrements." his satanic majesty took the form of a goat, dog, cat or ape and received the homage of his subjects in a loathsome ceremony. after a banquet promiscuous intercourse of devils and witches followed. all this superstition smouldered along in the embers of folk tales for centuries until it was blown into a devastating blaze by the breath of theologians who started to try to blow it out. the first puff was given by innocence viii in his bull _summis desiderantes_. [sidenote: december , ] the holy father having learned with sorrow that many persons in germany had had intercourse with demons and had by incantations hindered the birth of children and blasted the fruits of the earth, gave authority to henry institoris and james sprenger to correct, incarcerate, punish and fine such persons, calling in, if need be, the aid of the secular arm. these { } gentlemen acquitted themselves with unsurpassed zeal. not content with trying and punishing people brought before them, they put forth _the witches' hammer_, [sidenote: _malleus maleficarum_, ] called by lea the most portentous monument of superstition ever produced. in the next two centuries it was printed twenty-nine times. the university of cologne at once decided that to doubt the reality of witchcraft was a crime. the spanish inquisition, on the other hand, having all it could do with jews and heretics, treated witchcraft as a diabolical delusion. [sidenote: inquisition] though most men, including those whom we consider the choice and master-spirits of the age, erasmus and more, firmly believed in the objective reality of witchcraft, they were not obsessed by the subject, as were their immediate posterity. two causes may be found for the intensification of the fanaticism. the first was the use of torture by the inquisition. [sidenote: torture] the crime was of such a nature that it could hardly be proved save by confession, and this, in general, could be extracted only by the infliction of pain. it is instructive to note that in england where the spirit of the law was averse to torture, no progress in witch-hunting took place until a substitute for the rack had been found, first in pricking the body of the witch with pins to find the anaesthetic spot supposed to mark her, and secondly in depriving her of sleep. [sidenote: bibliolatry] a second patent cause of the mania was the zeal and the bibliolatry of protestantism. the religious debate heated the spiritual atmosphere and turned men's thoughts to the world of spirits. such texts, continually harped upon, as that on the witch of endor, the injunction, "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," and the demoniacs of the new testament, weighed heavily upon the shepherds of the people and upon their flocks. of the reality of witchcraft luther harbored not a doubt. the first use he made of the ban was to { } excommunicate reputed witches. seeing an idiotic child, whom he regarded as a changeling, he recommended the authorities to drown it, as a body without a soul. repeatedly, both in private talk and in public sermons, he recommended that witches should be put to death without mercy and without regard to legal niceties. as a matter of fact, four witches were burned at wittenberg on june , . the other protestants hastened to follow the bad example of their master. in geneva, under calvin, thirty-four women were burned or quartered for the crime in the year . a sermon of bishop jewel in was perhaps the occasion of a new english law against witchcraft. richard baxter wrote on the _certainty of a world of spirits_. at a much later time the bad record of the mathers is well known, as also john wesley's remark that giving up witchcraft meant giving up the bible. [sidenote: the madness] after the mania reached its height in the closing years of the century, anything, however trivial, would arouse suspicion. a cow would go dry, or a colt break its leg, or there would be a drought, or a storm, or a murrain on the cattle or a mildew on the crops. or else a physician, baffled by some disease that did not yield to his treatment of bleeding and to his doses of garlic and horses' dung, would suggest that witchcraft was the reason for his failure. in fact, if any contrariety met the path of the ordinary man or woman, he or she immediately thought of the black art, and considered the most likely person for denunciation. this would naturally be the nearest old woman, especially if she had a tang to her tongue and had muttered "bad luck to you!" on some previous occasion. she would then be hauled before the court, promised liberty if she confessed, stripped and examined for some mark of satan or to be sure that she was not hiding a charm { } about her person. torture in some form was then applied, and a ghastly list it was, pricking with needles under nails, crushing of bones until the marrow spurted out, wrenching of the head with knotted cords, toasting the feet before a fire, suspending the victim by the hands tied behind the back and letting her drop until the shoulders were disjointed. the horrible work would be kept up until the poor woman either died under the torture, or confessed, when she was sentenced without mercy, usually to be burned, sometimes to lesser punishments. when the madness was at its height, hardly anyone, once accused, escaped. john bodin, a man otherwise enlightened and learned, earned himself the not unjust name of "satan's attorney-general" by urging that strict proof could not be demanded by the very nature of these cases and that no suspected person should ever be released unless the malice of her accusers was plainer than day. moreover, each trial bred others, for each witch denounced accomplices until almost the whole population of certain districts was suspected. so frequently did they accuse their judges or their sovereign of having assisted at the witches' sabbath, that this came to be discounted as a regular trick of the devil. persecution raged in some places, chiefly in germany, like a visitation of pestilence or war. those who tried to stop it fell victims to their own courage, and, unless they recanted, languished for years in prison, or were executed as possessed by devils themselves. at trèves the persecution was encouraged by the cupidity of the magistrates who profited by confiscation of the property of those sentenced. at bonn schoolboys of nine or ten, fair young maidens, many priests and scores of good women were done to death. [sidenote: numbers executed] no figures have been compiled for the total number { } of victims of this insanity. in england, under elizabeth, before the craze had more than well started on its career, persons are known to have been tried for witchcraft and are known to have been executed for the crime. in venice the inquisition punished persons for sorcery during the sixteenth century. in the year , witches were burned at brescia, in , at como. in a single year the bishop of geneva burned witches, the bishop of bamberg , the bishop of würzburg . about were condemned to death in a single batch by the senate of savoy. in the year the archbishop of trèves burned women and two men for this imaginary crime. even these figures give but an imperfect notion of the extent of the midsummer madness. the number of victims must be reckoned by the tens of thousands. throughout the century there were not wanting some signs of a healthy skepticism. when, during an epidemic of st. vitus's dance at strassburg, [sidenote: ] the citizens proposed a pilgrimage to stop it, the episcopal vicar replied that as it was a natural disease natural remedies should be used. just as witches were becoming common in england, gosson wrote in his _school of abuse_: [sidenote: ] "do not imitate those foolish patients, who, having sought all means of recovery and are never the nearer, run into witchcraft." leonardo da vinci called belief in necromancy the most foolish of all human delusions. as it was dangerous to oppose the popular mood at its height, the more honor must go to the few who wrote _ex professo_ against it. the first of these, of any note, was the protestant physician john weyer. [sidenote: weyer] in his book _de praestigiis daemonum_ [sidenote: ] he sought very cautiously to show that the poor "old, feeble-minded, { } stay-at-home women" sentenced for witchcraft were simply the victims of their own and other people's delusions. satan has no commerce with them save to injure their minds and corrupt their imaginations. quite different, he thought, were those infamous magicians who really used spells, charms, potions and the like, though even here weyer did not admit that their effects were due to supernatural agency. this mild and cautious attempt to defend the innocent was placed on the index and elicited the opinion from john bodin that the author was a true servant of satan. [sidenote: scott] a far more thorough and brilliant attack on the superstition was reginald scott's _discovery of witchcraft_, wherein the lewd dealings of _witches and witchmongers is notably defected . . . whereunto is added a realise upon the nature and substance of spirits and devils_. [sidenote: ] scott had read latin authors and english, on his subject, and he was under considerable obligation to some of them, notably weyer. but he endeavored to make first-hand observations, attended witch trials and traced gossip to its source. he showed, none better, the utter flimsiness and absurdity of the charges on which poor old women were done to death. he explained the performance of the witch of endor as ventriloquism. trying to prove that magic was rejected by reason and religion alike, he pointed out that all the phenomena might most easily be explained by wilful imposture or by illusion due to mental disturbance. as his purpose was the humanitarian one of staying the cruel persecution, with calculated partisanship he tried to lay the blame for it on the catholic church. as the very existence of magic could not be disproved completely by empirical reasons he attacked it on _a priori_ grounds, alleging that spirits and bodies are in two categories, unable to act directly upon each { } other. brilliant and convincing as the work was, it produced no corresponding effect. it was burned publicly by order of james i. [sidenote: montaigne] montaigne, who was never roused to anger by anything, had the supreme art of rebutting others' opinions without seeming to do so. it was doubtless bodin's abominable _demonology_ that called forth his celebrated essay on witchcraft, in which that subject is treated in the most modern spirit. the old presumption in favor of the miraculous has fallen completely from him; his cool, quizzical regard was too much for satan, who, with all his knowledge of the world, is easily embarrassed, to endure. the delusion of witchcraft might be compared to a noxious bacillus. scott tried to kill it by heat; he held it up to a fire of indignation, and fairly boiled it in his scorching flame of reason. montaigne tried the opposite treatment: refrigeration. he attacked nothing; he only asked, with an icy smile, why anything should be believed. certainly, as long as the mental passions could be kept at his own low temperature, there was no danger that the milk of human kindness should turn sour, no matter what vicious culture of germs it originally held. he begins by saying that he had seen various miracles in his own day, but, one reads between the lines, he doesn't believe any of them. one error, he says, begets another, and everything is exaggerated in the hope of making converts to the talker's opinion. one miracle bruited all over france turned out to be a prank of young people counterfeiting ghosts. when one hears a marvel, he should always say, "perhaps." better be apprentices at sixty then doctors at ten. now witches, he continues, are the subject of the wildest and most foolish accusations. bodin had proposed that they should be killed on mere suspicion, but montaigne observes, "to kill human beings there is required a bright-shining { } and clear light." and what do the stories amount to? how much more natural and more likely do i find it that two men should lie than that one in twelve hours should pass from east to west? how much more natural that our understanding may by the volubility of our loose-capring mind be transported from his place, than that one of us should by a strange spirit in flesh and bone be carried upon a broom through the tunnel of a chimney? . . . i deem it a matter pardonable not to believe a wonder, at least so far forth as one may explain away or break down the truth of the report in some way not miraculous. . . . some years past i traveled through the country of a sovereign prince, who, in favor of me and to abate my incredulity, did me the grace in his own presence and in a particular place to make me see ten or twelve prisoners of that kind, and amongst others an old beldam witch, a true and perfect sorceress, both by her ugliness and deformity, and such a one as long before was most famous in that profession. i saw both proofs, witnesses, voluntary confessions, and some insensible marks about this miserable old woman; i enquired and talked with her a long time, with the greatest heed and attention i could, and i am not easily carried away by preconceived opinion. in the end and in my conscience i should rather have appointed them hellebore than hemlock. it was rather a disease than a crime. montaigne goes on to argue that even when we cannot get an explanation--and any explanation is more probable than magic--it is safe to disbelieve: "fear sometimes representeth strange apparitions to the vulgar sort, as ghosts . . . larves, hobgoblins, robbin-good-fellows and such other bugbears and chimaeras." for montaigne the evil spell upon the mind of the race had been broken; alas! that it took so long for other men to throw it off! [ ] erikönig. section . education [sidenote: education] from the most terrible superstition let us turn to the noblest, most inspiring and most important work of { } humanity. with each generation the process of handing on to posterity the full heritage of the race has become longer and more complex. [sidenote: schools] it was, therefore, upon a very definite and highly developed course of instruction that the contemporary of erasmus entered. there were a few great endowed schools, like eton and winchester and deventer, in which the small boy might begin to learn his "grammar"--latin, of course. some of the buildings at winchester and eton are the same now as they were then, the quite beautiful chapel and dormitories of red brick at eton, for example. each of these two english schools had, at this time, less than pupils, and but two masters, but the great dutch school, deventer, under the renowned tuition of hegius, boasted scholars, divided into eight forms. many an old woodcut shows us the pupils gathered around the master as thick as flies, sitting cross-legged on the floor, some intent on their books and others playing pranks, while there seldom fails to be one undergoing the chastisement so highly recommended by solomon. these great schools did not suffice for all would-be scholars. in many villages there was some poor priest or master who would teach the boys what he knew and prepare them thus for higher things. in some places there were tiny school-houses, much like those now seen in rural america. such an one, renovated, may be still visited at mansfeld, and its quaint inscription read over the door, to the effect that a good school is like the wooden horse of troy. when the boys left home they lived more as they do now at college, being given a good deal of freedom out of hours. the poorer scholars used their free times to beg, for as many were supported in this way then as now are given scholarships and other charitable aids in our universities. [sidenote: flogging] though there were a good many exceptions, most of { } the teachers were brutes. the profession was despised as a menial one and indeed, even so, many a gentleman took more care in the selection of grooms and gamekeepers than he did in choosing the men with whom to entrust his children. of many of the tutors the manners and morals were alike outrageous. they used filthy language to the boys, whipped them cruelly and habitually drank too much. they made the examinations, says one unfortunate pupil of such a master, like a trial for murder. the monitor employed to spy on the boys was known by the significant name of "the wolf." public opinion then approved of harsh methods. nicholas udall, the talented head-master of eton, was warmly commended for being "the best flogging teacher in england"--until he was removed for his immorality. [sidenote: latin] the principal study--after the rudiments of reading and writing the mother tongue were learned--was latin. as, at the opening of the century, there were usually not enough books to go around, the pedagogue would dictate declensions and conjugations, with appropriate exercises, to his pupils. the books used were such as _donatus on the parts of speech_, a poem called the _facetus_ by john of garland, intended to give moral, theological and grammatical information all in one, and selecting as the proper vehicle rhymed couplets. other manuals were the _floretus_, a sort of abstruse catechism, the _cornutus_, a treatise on synonyms, and a dictionary in which the words were arranged not alphabetically but according to their supposed etymology--thus _hirundo_ (swallow) from _aer_ (air). one had to know the meaning of the word before one searched for it! the grammars were written in a barbarous latin of inconceivably difficult style. can any man now readily understand the following definition of "pronoun," taken from a book intended { } for beginners, published in ? "pronomen . . . significat substantiam seu entitatem sub modo conceptus intrinseco permanentis seu habitus et quietis sub determinatae apprehensionis formalitate." that with all these handicaps boys learned latin at all, and some boys learned it extremely well, must be attributed to the amount of time spent on the subject. for years it was practically all that was studied--for the medieval trivium of grammar, rhetoric and logic reduced itself to this--and they not only read a great deal but wrote and spoke latin. finally, it became as easy and fluent to them as their own tongue. many instances that sound like infant prodigies are known to us; boys who spoke latin at seven and wrote eloquent orations in it at fourteen, were not uncommon. it is true that the average boy spoke then rather a translation of his own language into latin than the best idiom of rome. the following ludicrous specimens of conversation, throwing light on the manners as well as on the linguistic attainments of the students, were overheard in the university of paris: "capis me pro uno alio"; "quando ego veni de ludendo, ego bibi unum magnum vitrum totum plenum de vino, sine deponendo nasum de vitro"; "in prandendo non facit nisi lichare suos digitos." [sidenote: reformation] though there was no radical reform in education during the century between erasmus and shakespeare, two strong tendencies may be discerned at work, one looking towards a milder method, the other towards the extension of elementary instruction to large classes hitherto left illiterate. the reformation, which was rather poor in original thought, was at any rate a tremendous vulgarizer of the current culture. it was a popular movement in that it passed around to the people the ideas that had hitherto been the possession of the few. its first effect, indeed, together with that of { } the tumults that accompanied it, was for the moment unfavorable to all sorts of learning. not only wars and rebellions frightened the youth from school, but men arose, both in england and germany, who taught that if god had vouchsafed his secrets to babes and sucklings, ignorance must be better than wisdom and that it was therefore folly to be learned. [sidenote: luther] luther not only turned the tide, but started it flowing in that great wave that has finally given civilized lands free and compulsory education for all. in a _letter to the aldermen and cities of germany on the erection and maintenance of christian schools_ [sidenote: ] he urged strongly the advantages of learning. "good schools [he maintained] are the tree from which grow all good conduct in life, and if they decay great blindness must follow in religion and in all useful arts. . . . therefore, all wise rulers have thought schools a great light in civil life." even the heathen had seen that their children should be instructed in all liberal arts and sciences both to fit them for war and government and to give them personal culture. luther several times suggested that "the civil authorities ought to compel people to send their children to school. if the government can compel men to bear spear and arquebus, to man ramparts and perform other martial duties, how much more has it the right to compel them to send their children to school?" repeatedly he urged upon the many princes and burgomasters with whom he corresponded the duty of providing schools in every town and village. a portion of the ecclesiastical revenues confiscated by the german states was in fact applied to this end. many other new schools were founded by princes and were known as "fürstenschulen" or gymnasia. [sidenote: england] the same course was run in england. colet's foundation of st. paul's school in london, [sidenote: ] for boys, has perhaps won an undue fame, for it was { } backward in method and not important in any special way, but it is a sign that people at that time were turning their thoughts to the education of the young. when edward vi mounted the throne the dissolution of the chantries had a very bad effect, for their funds had commonly supported scholars. a few years previously henry viii had ordered "every of you that be parsons, vicars, curates and also chantry priests and stipendiaries to . . . teach and bring up in learning the best you can all such children of your parishioners as shall come to you, or at least teach them to read english." edward vi revived this law in ordering chantry priests to "exercise themselves in teaching youth to read and write," and he also urged people to contribute to the maintenance of primary schools in each parish. he also endowed certain grammar schools with the revenues of the chantries. in scotland the _book of discipline_ advocated compulsory education, children of the well-to-do at their parents' expense, poor children at that of the church. [sidenote: jesuit colleges] in catholic countries, too, there was a passion for founding new schools. especially to be mentioned are the jesuit "colleges," "of which," bacon confesses, "i must say, _talis cum sis utinam noster esses_." how well frequented they were is shown by the following figures. the jesuit school at vienna had, in , pupils, in cologne, about the same time, , in trèves , in mayence , in spires , in munich . the method of the jesuits became famous for its combined gentleness and art. they developed consummate skill in allowing their pupils as much of history, science and philosophy as they could imbibe without jeoparding their faith. from this point of view their instruction was an inoculation against free thought. but it must be allowed that their teaching of the { } classics was excellent. they followed the humanists' methods, but they adapted them to the purpose of the church. [sidenote: the classics] all this flood of new scholars had little that was new to study. neither reformers nor humanists had any searching or thorough revision to propose; all that they asked was that the old be taught better: the humanities more humanely. erasmus wrote much on education, and, following him vives and budé and melanchthon and sir thomas elyot and roger ascham; their programs, covering the whole period from the cradle to the highest degree, seem thorough, but what does it all amount to, in the end, but latin and greek? possibly a little arithmetic and geometry and even astronomy were admitted, but all was supposed to be imbibed as a by-product of literature, history from livy, for example, and natural science from pliny. indeed, it often seems as if the knowledge of things was valued chiefly for the sake of literary comprehension and allusion. the educational reformers differed little from one another save in such details as the best authors to read. colet preferred christian authors, such as lactantius, prudentius and baptista mantuan. erasmus thought it well to begin with the verses of dionysius cato, and to proceed through the standard authors of greece and rome. for the sake of making instruction easy and pleasant he wrote his _colloquies_--in many respects his _chef d' oeuvre_ if not the best latin produced by anyone during the century. in this justly famous work, which was adopted and used by all parties immediately, he conveyed a considerable amount of liberal religious and moral instruction with enough wit to make it palatable. luther, on melanchthon's advice, notwithstanding his hatred for the author, urged the use of the { } _colloquies_ in protestant schools, [sidenote: ] and they were likewise among the books permitted by the imperial mandate issued at louvain. the method of learning language was for the instructor to interpret a passage to the class which they were expected to be able to translate the next day. ascham recommended that, when the child had written a translation he should, after a suitable interval, be required to retranslate his own english into latin. writing, particularly of letters, was taught. the real advance over the medieval curriculum was in the teaching of greek--to which the exceptionally ambitious school at geneva added, after , hebrew. save for this and the banishment of scholastic barbarism, there was no attempt to bring in the new sciences and arts. for nearly four hundred years the curriculum of erasmus has remained the foundation of our education. only in our own times are latin and greek giving way, as the staples of mental training, to modern languages and science. in those days modern languages were picked up, as milton was later to recommend that they should be, not as part of the regular course, but "in some leisure hour," like music or dancing. notwithstanding such exceptions as edward vi and elizabeth, who spoke french and italian, there were comparatively few scholars who knew any living tongue save their own. [sidenote: university life] when the youth went to the university he found little change in either his manner of life or in his studies. a number of boys matriculated at the age of thirteen or fourteen; on the other hand there was a sprinkling of mature students. the extreme youth of many scholars made it natural that they should be under somewhat stricter discipline than is now the case. even in the early history of harvard it is recorded that the president once "flogged four bachelors" for { } being out too late at night. at colleges like montaigu, if one may believe erasmus, the path of learning was indeed thorny. what between the wretched diet, the filth, the cold, the crowding, "the short-winged hawks" that the students combed from their hair or shook from their shirts, it is no wonder that many of them fell ill. gaming, fighting, drinking and wenching were common. [sidenote: mode of government] nominally, the university was then under the entire control of the faculty, who elected one of themselves "rector" (president) for a single year, who appointed their own members and who had complete charge of studies and discipline, save that the students occasionally asserted their ancient rights. in fact, the corporation was pretty well under the thumb of the government, which compelled elections and dismissals when it saw fit, and occasionally appointed commissions to visit and reform the faculties. [sidenote: of instruction] instruction was still carried on by the old method of lectures and debates. these latter were sometimes on important questions of the day, theological or political, but were often, also, nothing but displays of ingenuity. there was a great lack of laboratories, a need that just began to be felt at the end of the century when bacon wrote: "unto the deep, fruitful and operative study of many sciences, specially natural philosophy and physics, books be not only the instrumentals." bacon's further complaint that, "among so many great foundations of colleges in europe, i find it strange that they are all dedicated to professions, and none left free to arts and sciences at large," is an early hint of the need of the endowment of research. the degrees in liberal arts, b.a. and m.a., were then more strictly than now licences either to teach or to pursue higher professional studies in divinity, law, or medicine. fees for graduation { } were heavy; in france a b.a. cost $ , an m.d. $ and a d.d. $ . [sidenote: new universities] germany then held the primacy that she has ever since had in europe both in the number of her universities and in the aggregate of her students. the new universities founded by the protestants were: marburg , königsberg , jena and again , helmstadt , altdorf , paderborn . in addition to these the catholics founded four or five new universities, though not important ones. they concentrated their efforts on the endeavor to found new "colleges" at the old institutions. [sidenote: numbers] in general the universities lost during the first years of the reformation, but more than made up their numbers by the middle of the century. wittenberg had matriculations in ; in the matriculations had fallen to , but by , notwithstanding the recent schmalkaldic war, the total numbers had risen to , and this number was well maintained throughout the century. erfurt, remaining catholic in a protestant region, declined more rapidly and permanently. in the year - there were matriculations, in the following year , in the next year , and five years later only . between to the number of students fell at rostock from to , at frankfort-on-the-oder from to . rostock, however, recovered after a reorganization in . the number of students at greifswald declined so that no lectures were given during the period - , after which it again began to pick up. königsberg, starting with students later fell off. cologne declined in numbers, and so did mayence until the jesuits founded their college in , which, by , had pupils recognized as members of the university. vienna, also, having sunk to the number of students in , kept at a { } very low ebb until , when the effects of the jesuit revival were felt. whereas, during the fifteen years - there were matriculations at leipzig, during the next fifteen years there were only . by the end of the century, however, leipzig had again become, under protestant leadership, a large institution. [sidenote: british universities] two new universities were founded in the british isles during the century, edinburgh in and trinity college, dublin, in . in england a number of colleges were added to those already existing at oxford and cambridge, namely christ church (first known, after its founder, wolsey, as cardinal's college, then as king's college), brasenose, and corpus christi at oxford and st. john's, magdalen, and trinity at cambridge. notwithstanding these new foundations the number of students sank. during the years - , only degrees of b.a. were given at cambridge and only at oxford. ascham is authority for the statement that things were still worse under mary, when "the wild boar of the wood" either "cut up by the root or trod down to the ground" the institutions of learning. the revenues of the universities reached their low-water mark about , when the total income of oxford from land was reckoned at l and that of cambridge at l , per annum. under elizabeth, the universities rose in numbers, while better latin and greek were taught. it was at this time that a college education became fashionable for young gentlemen instead of being exclusively patronized by "learned clerks." the foundation of the college of physicians in london deserves to be mentioned. [sidenote: ] a university was founded at zurich under the influence of zwingli. geneva's university opened in with beza as rector. connected with it was a preparatory school of seven forms, with a rigidly prescribed { } course in the classics. when the boy was admitted to the university proper by examination, he took what he chose; there was not even a division into classes. the courses offered to him included greek, hebrew, theology, dialectic, rhetoric, physics and mathematics. [sidenote: french universities] the foundation of the collège de france by francis i represented an attempt to bring new life and vigor into learning by a free association of learned men. it was planned to emancipate science from the tutelage of theology. erasmus was invited but, on his refusal to accept, budé was given the leading position. chairs of greek, hebrew, mathematics and latin were founded by the king in . other institutions of learning founded in france were rheims , douai , besançon[ ] , none of them now in existence. paris continued to be the largest university in the world, with an average number of students of about . louvain, in the netherlands, had students in and ; in the number rose to . it was divided into colleges on the plan still found in england. each college had a president, three professors and twelve fellows, entertained gratis, in addition to a larger number of paying scholars. the most popular classes often reached the number of . the foundation of the collegium trilingue by erasmus's friend jerome busleiden in was an attempt, as its name indicates, to give instruction in greek and hebrew as well as in the latin classics. a blight fell upon the noble institution during the wars of religion. under the supervision of alva it founded professorships of catechetics and substituted the decrees of the council of trent for the _decretum_ of gratian in the law school. exhausted by the hemorrhages caused by the religious war and starved by the lenten diet of spanish catholicism, it gradually decayed, while its { } place was taken in the eyes of europe by the protestant university of leyden. [sidenote: ] a second protestant foundation, franeker, [sidenote: ] for a time flourished, but finally withered away. spanish universities were crowded with new numbers. the maximum student body was reached by salamanca in with men, while alcalá passed in zenith in with the respectable enrollment of . the foundation of no less than nine new universities in spain bears witness to the interest of the iberian peninsula in education. four new universities opened their doors in italy during the year - . the sapienza at rome, in addition to these, was revived temporarily by leo x in , and, after a relapse to the dormant state, again awoke to its full power under paul iii, when chairs of greek and hebrew were established. [sidenote: contribution to progress] the services of all these universities cannot be computed on any statistical method. notwithstanding all their faults, their dogmatic narrowness and their academic arrogance, they contributed more to progress than any other institutions. each academy became the center of scientific research and of intellectual life. their influence was enormous. how much did it mean to that age to see its contending hosts marshalled under two professors, luther and adrian vi! and how many other leaders taught in universities:--erasmus, melanchthon, reuchlin, lefèvre, to mention only a few. pontiffs and kings sought for support in academic pronouncements, nor could they always force the doctors to give the decision they wished. in fact, each university stood like an acropolis in the republic of letters, at once a temple and a fortress for those who loved truth and ensued it. [ ] besançon was then an imperial free city. { } section . art [sidenote: art the expression of an ideal] the significant thing about art, for the historian as for the average man, is the ideal it expresses. the artist and critic may find more to interest him in the development of technique, how this painter dealt with perspective and that one with "tactile values," how the florentines excelled in drawing and the venetians in color. but for us, not being professionals, the content of the art is more important than its form. for, after all, the glorious cathedrals of the middle ages and the marvellous paintings of the renaissance were not mere iridescent bubbles blown by or for children with nothing better to do. they were the embodiments of ideas; as the people thought in their hearts so they projected themselves into the objects they created. the greatest painters the world has seen, and many others who would be greatest in any other time, were contemporaries of luther. they had a gospel to preach no less sacred to them than was his to him; it was the glad tidings of the kingdom of this world: the splendor, the loveliness, the wonder and the nobility of human life. when, with young eyes, they looked out upon the world in its spring-tide, they found it not the vale of tears that they had been told; they found it a rapture. they saw the naked body not vile but beautiful. [sidenote: leonardo, - ] leonardo da vinci was a painter of wonder, but not of naïve admiration of things seen. to him the miracle of the world was in the mystery of knowledge,--and he took all nature as his province. he gave his life and his soul for the mastery of science; he observed, he studied, he pondered everything. from the sun in the heavens to the insect on the ground, nothing was so large as to impose upon him, nothing too small to escape him. weighing, measuring, experimenting, { } he dug deep for the inner reality of things; he spent years drawing the internal organs of the body, and other years making plans for engineers. when he painted, there was but one thing that fascinated him: the soul. to lay bare the mind as he had dissected the brain; to take man or woman at some self-revealing pose, to surprise the hidden secret of personality, all this was his passion, and in all this he excelled as no one had ever done, before or since. his battle picture is not some gorgeous and romantic cavalry charge, but a confused melée of horses snorting with terror, of men wild with the lust of battle or with hatred or with fear. his portraits are either caricatures or prophecies: they lay bare some trait unsuspected, or they probe some secret weakness. is not his portrait of himself a wizard? does not his medusa chill us with the horror of death? is not beatrice d'este already doomed to waste away, when he paints her? [sidenote: the last supper] the last supper had been treated a hundred times before him, now as a eucharistic sacrament, now as a monastic meal, now as a gathering of friends. what did leonardo make of it? a study of character. jesus has just said, "one of you will betray me," and his divine head has sunk upon his breast with calm, immortal grief. john, the beloved, is fairly sick with sorrow; peter would be fiercely at the traitor's throat; thomas darts forward, doubting, to ask, "lord, is it i?" every face expresses deep and different reaction. there sits judas, his face tense, the cords of his neck standing out, his muscles taut with the supreme effort not to betray the evil purpose which, nevertheless, lowers on his visage as plainly as a thunder cloud on a sultry afternoon. throughout life leonardo was fascinated with an enigmatic smile that he had seen somewhere, perhaps in verocchio's studio, perhaps on the face of some { } woman he had known as a boy. his first paintings were of laughing women, and the same smile is on the lips of john the baptist and dionysus and leda and the virgin and st. anne and mona lisa! what was he trying to express? vasari found the "smile so pleasing that it was a thing more divine than human to behold"; ruskin thought it archaic, müntz "sad and disillusioned," berenson supercilious, and freud neurotic. reymond calls it the smile of prometheus, faust, oedipus and the sphinx; pater saw in it "the animalism of greece, the lust of rome, the reverie of the middle ages with its spiritual ambitions and imaginary loves, the return to the pagan world, the sins of the borgias." though some great critics, like reinach, have asserted that mona lisa [sidenote: mona lisa] is only subtle as any great portrait is subtle, it is impossible to regard it merely as that. it is a psychological study. and what means the smile? in a word, sex,--not on the physical side so studied and glorified by other painters, but in its psychological aspect. for once leonardo has stripped bare not the body but the soul of desire,--the passion, the lust, the trembling and the shame. there is something frightening about leda caught with the swan, about the effeminate dionysus and john the baptist's mouth "folded for a kiss of irresistible pleasure." if the stories then told about the children of alexander vi and about margaret of navarre and anne boleyn were true, mona lisa was their sister. everything he touched acquires the same psychological penetration. his adoration of the magi is not an effort to delight the eye, but is a study, almost a criticism, of christianity. all sorts of men are brought before the miraculous babe, and their reactions, of wonder, of amazement, of devotion, of love, of skepticism, of scoffing, and of indifference, are perfectly recorded. { } [sidenote: the venetians] after the cool and stormy spring of art came the warm and gentle summer. life became so full, so beautiful, so pleasant, so alluring, that men sought for nothing save to quaff its goblet to the dregs. venice, seated like a lovely, wanton queen, on her throne of sparkling waters, drew to her bosom all the devotees of pleasure in the whole of europe. her argosies still brought to her every pomp and glory of vestment with which to array her body sumptuously; her lovers lavished on her gold and jewels and palaces and rare exotic luxuries. how all this is reflected in her great painters, the bellinis and giorgione and titian and tintoretto! life is no longer a wonder to them but a banquet; the malady of thought, the trouble of the soul is not for them. theirs is the realm of the senses, and if man could live by sense alone, surely he must revel in what they offer. they dye their canvasses in such blaze of color and light as can be seen only in the sunset or in the azure of the mediterranean, or in tropical flowers. how they clothe their figures in every conceivable splendor of orphrey and ermine, in jewels and shining armor and rich stuff of silk and samite, in robe of scarlet or in yellow dalmatic! every house for them is a palace, every bit of landscape an enchanted garden, every action an ecstasy, every man a hero and every woman a paragon of voluptuous beauty. the portrait is one of the most characteristic branches of renaissance painting, for it appealed to the newly aroused individualism, the grandiose egotism of the so optimistic and so self-confident age. after leonardo no one sought to make the portrait primarily a character study. titian and raphael and holbein and most of their contemporaries sought rather to please and flatter than to analyse. [sidenote: titian, c. - ] but withal there is often a truth to nature that make many { } of the portraits of that time like the day of judgment in their revelation of character. titian's splendid harmonies of scarlet silk and crimson satin and gold brocade and purple velvet and silvery fur enshrine many a blend of villainies and brutal stupidities. what is more cruelly realistic than the leer of the satyr clothed as francis, king of france; than the bovine dullness of charles v and the lizard-like dullness of his son; or than that strange combination of wolfish cunning and swinish bestiality with human thought and self-command that fascinates in raphael's portrait of leo x and his two cardinals? on the other hand, what a profusion of strong and noble men and women gaze at us from the canvases of that time. they are a study of infinite variety and of surpassing charm. the secularization of art proceeded even to the length of affecting religious painting. susanna and magdalen and st. barbara and st. sebastian are no longer starved nuns and monks, bundled in shapeless clothes; they become maidens and youths of marvellous beauty. even the virgin and christ were drawn from the handsomest models obtainable and were richly clothed. this tendency, long at work, found its consummation in raphael sanzio of urbino. [sidenote: raphael, - ] it is one of those useful coincidences that seem almost symbolic that raphael and luther were born in the same year, for they were both the products of the same process--the decay of catholicism. when, for long ages, a forest has rotted on the ground, it may form a bed of coal, ready to be dug up and turned into power, or it may make a field luxuriant in grain and fruit and flowers. from the deposits of medieval religion the miner's son of mansfeld extracted enough energy to turn half europe upside down; from the same fertile swamp raphael culled the most exquisite { } blossoms and the most delicious berries. to change the metaphor, luther was the thunder and raphael the rainbow of the same storm. [sidenote: religious art] the chief work of both of them was to make religion understanded of the people; to adapt it to the needs of the time. when faith fails a man may either abandon the old religion for another, or he may stop thinking about dogma altogether and find solace in the mystical-aesthetic aspect of his cult. this second alternative was worked to its limit by raphael. he was not concerned with the true but with the beautiful. by far the larger part of his very numerous pictures have religious subjects. the whole bible--which luther translated into the vernacular--was by him translated into the yet clearer language of sense. even now most people conceive biblical characters in the forms of this greatest of illustrators. delicacy, pathos, spirituality, idyllic loveliness--everything but realism or tragedy--are stamped on all his canvases. "beautiful as a raphael madonna" is an italian proverb, and so skilfully selected a type of beauty is there in his virgins that they are neither too ethereal nor too sensuous. divine tenderness, motherhood at its holiest, gazes calmly from the face of the sistine madonna, "whose eyes are deeper than the depths of waters stilled at even." the simple mind, unsophisticated by lore of the pre-raphaelite school, will worship a raphael when he will but revel in a titian. strangely touched by the magic of this passionate lover both of the church and of mortal women, the average man of that day, or of this, found, and will find, glad tidings for his heart in the very color of mary's robe. "whoever would know how christ transfigured and made divine should be painted, must look," says vasari, on raphael's canvases. the church and the papacy found an ally in raphael, { } whose pencil illustrated so many triumphs of the popes and so many mysteries of religion. in his disputa (so-called) he made the secret of transubstantiation visible. in his great cartoon of leo i turning back attila he gave new power to the arm of leo x. his parnassus and school of athens seemed to make philosophy easy for the people. indeed, it is from them that he has reaped his rich reward, for while the pharisees of art pick flaws in him, point out what they find of shallowness and of insincerity, the people love him more than any other artist has been loved. it is for them that he worked, and on every labor one might read as it were his motto, "i will not offend even one of these little ones." if raphael's art was safe in his own hands there can be little doubt that it hastened the decadence of painting [sidenote: decadence of religious art] in the hands of his followers. his favorite pupil, giulio romano, caught every trick of the master and, like the devil citing scripture, painted pictures to delight the eye so licentious that they cannot now be exhibited. andrea del sarto sentimentalized the virgin, turning tenderness to bathos. correggio, the most gifted of them all, could do nothing so well as depict sensual love. his pictures are hymns to venus, and his women, saints and sinners alike, are houris of an erotic paradise. has the ecstasy of amorous passion amounting almost to mystical transport ever been better suggested than in the marvellous light and shade of his jupiter and io? these and many other contemporary artists had on their lips but one song, a paean in praise of life, the pomps and glories of this goodly world and the delights and beauties of the body. but to all men, save those loved by the gods, there comes some moment, perhaps in the very heyday of success and joy and love, when a sudden ruin falls upon the world. the death of one loved more than self, { } disease and pain, the betrayal of some trust, the failure of the so cherished cause--all these and many more are the gates by which tragedy is born. and the beauty of tragedy is above all other beauty because only in some supreme struggle can the grandeur of the human spirit assert its full majesty. in shakespeare and michelangelo it is not the torture that pleases us, but the triumph over circumstance. [sidenote: michelangelo, - ] no one has so deeply felt or so truly expressed this as the florentine sculptor who, amidst a world of love and laughter, lived in wilful sadness, learning how man from his death-grapple in the darkness can emerge victor and how the soul, by her passion of pain, is perfected. he was interested in but one thing, man, because only man is tragic. he would paint no portraits--or but one or two--because no living person came up to his ideal. all his figures are strong because strength only is able to suffer as to do. nine-tenths of them are men rather than women, because the beauty of the male is strength, whereas the strength of the woman is beauty. only in a few of his early figures does he attain calm,--in a madonna, in david or in the men bathing, all of them, including the madonna with its figures of men in the background, intended to exhibit the perfection of athletic power. but save in these early works almost all that michelangelo set his hand to is fairly convulsed with passion. leda embraces the swan at the supreme moment of conception; eve, drawn from the side of adam, is weeping bitterly; adam is rousing himself to the hard struggle that is life; the slaves are writhing under their bonds as though they were of hot iron; moses is starting from his seat for some tremendous conflict. every figure lavished on the decoration of the sistine chapel reaches, when it does not surpass, the limit of human physical development. sibyl and prophet, { } adam and eve, man and god are all hurled together with a riot of strength and "terribilità." the almost supernatural terror of michelangelo's genius found fullest scope in illustrating the idea of predestination that obsessed the reformers and haunted many a catholic of that time also. in the last judgment [sidenote: the last judgment] the artist laid the whole emphasis upon the damnation of the wicked, hurled down to external torment by the sentence, "depart from me, ye cursed," uttered by christ, not the meek and gentle man of sorrows, but the _rex tremendae majestatis_, a hercules, before whom mary trembles and the whole of creation shudders. a quieter, but no less tragic work of art is the sculpture on the tomb of lorenzo de' medici at florence. the hero himself sits above, and both he and the four allegorical figures, two men and two women, commonly called day and night, morning and evening, are lost in pensive, eternal sorrow. so they brood for ever as if seeking in sleep and dumb forgetfulness some anodyne for the sense of their country's and their race's doom. but it is not all pain. titian has not made joy nor raphael love nor leonardo wonder so beautiful as michelangelo has made tragedy. his sonnets breathe a worship of beauty as the symbol of divine love. he is like the great, dark angel of victor hugo: et l'ange devint noir, et dit:--je suis l'amour. mais son front sombre était plus charmant que le jour, et je voyais, dans l'ombre où brillaient ses prunelles, les astres à travers les plumes de ses ailes. the contrast between the fertility of italian artistic genius and the comparative poverty of northern europe is most apparent when the northern painters copied most closely their transalpine brothers. the taste for italian pictures was spread abroad by the many { } travelers, and the demand created a supply of copies and imitations. antwerp became a regular factory of such works, whereas the germans, cranach, dürer and holbein were profoundly affected by italy. of them all holbein [sidenote: hans holbein the younger, - ] was the only one who could really compete with the italians on their own ground, and that only in one branch of art, portraiture. his studies of henry viii, and of his wives and courtiers, combine truth to nature with a high sense of beauty. his paintings of more and erasmus express with perfect mastery the finest qualities of two rare natures. [sidenote: albert dürer, - ] dürer seldom succeeded in painting pictures of the most beautiful type, but a few of his portraits can be compared with nothing save leonardo's studies. the whole of a man's life and character are set forth in his two drawings of his friend pirckheimer, a strange blend of the philosopher and the hog. and the tragedy is that the lower nature won; in there is but a potential coarseness in the strong face; in the swine had conquered and but the wreck of the scholar is visible. as an engineer and as a student of aesthetics dürer was also the northern leonardo. his theory of art reveals the secret of his genius: "what beauty is, i know not; but for myself i take that which at all times has been considered beautiful by the greater number." this is making art democratic, bringing it down from the small coterie of palace and mansion to the home of the people at large. dürer and his compeers were enabled to do this by exploiting the new german arts of etching and wood-engraving. pictures were multiplied by hundreds and thousands and sold, not to one patron but to the many. characteristically they reflected the life and thoughts of the common people in every homely phase. pious subjects were numerous, because religion bulked large in the common thought, { } but it was the religion of the popular preacher, translating the life of christ into contemporary german life, wholesome and a little vulgar. the people love marvels and they are very literal; what could be more marvellous and more literal than dürer's illustrations of the apocalypse in which the dragon with ten horns and seven heads, and the lamb with seven horns and seven eyes are represented exactly as they are described? dürer neither strove for nor attained anything but realism. "i think," he wrote, "the more exact and like a man a picture is, the better the work. . . . others are of another opinion and speak of how a man should be . . . but in such things i consider nature the master and human imaginations errors." it was life he copied, the life he saw around him at nuremberg. but dürer, to use his own famous criterion of portraiture, [sidenote: - ] painted not only the features of germany, but her soul. three of his woodcuts depict german aspirations so fully that they are the best explanation of the reformation, which they prophesy. the first of these, the knight, death and the devil, shows the christian soldier riding through a valley of supernatural terrors. "so ist des menchen leben nichts anderes dann eine ritterschaft auf erden," is the old german translation of job vii, , following the vulgate. erasmus in his _handbook of the christian knight_ had imagined just such a scene, and so deeply had the idea of the soldier of christ sunk into the people's mind that later generations interpreted dürer's knight as a picture of sickingen or hutten or one of the bold champions of the new religion. in the st. jerome peacefully at work in his panelled study, translating the bible, while the blessed sun shines in and the lion and the little bear doze contentedly, is not luther foretold? but the german study, { } that magician's laboratory that has produced so much of good, has also often been the alembic of brooding and despair. more than ever before at the opening of the century men felt the vast promises and the vast oppression of thought. new science had burst the old bonds but, withal, the soul still yearned for more. the vanity of knowledge is expressed as nowhere else in dürer's melancholia, one of the world's greatest pictures. surrounded by scientific instruments,--the compass, the book, the balance, the hammer, the arithmetical square, the hour-glass, the bell--sits a woman with wings too small to raise her heavy body. far in the distance is a wonderful city, with the glory of the northern lights, but across the splendid vision flits the little bat-like creature, fit symbol of some disordered fancy of an overwrought mind. [sidenote: the grotesque] closely akin to the melancholy of the renaissance is the love of the grewsome. in dürer it took the harmless form of a fondness for monstrosities,--rhinoceroses, bearded babies, six-legged pigs and the like. but holbein and many other artists tickled the emotions of their contemporaries by painting long series known as the dance of death, in which some man or woman typical of a certain class, such as the emperor, the soldier, the peasant, the bride, is represented as being haled from life by a grinning skeleton. typical of the age, too, was the caricature now drawn into the service of the intense party struggles of the reformation. to depict the pope or luther or the huguenots in their true form their enemies drew them with claws and hoofs and ass's heads, and devil's tails, drinking and blaspheming. even kings were caricatured,--doubly significant fact! [sidenote: architecture] as painting and sculpture attained so high a level of maturity in the sixteenth century, one might suppose that architecture would do the same. in truth, { } however, architecture rather declined. very often, if not always, each special art-form goes through a cycle of youth, perfection, and decay, that remind one strongly of the life of a man. the birth of an art is due often to some technical invention, the full possibilities of which are only gradually developed. but after the newly opened fields have been exhausted the epigoni can do little but recombine, often in fantastic ways, the old elements; public taste turns from them and demands something new. [sidenote: churches] so the supreme beauty of the medieval cathedral as seen at pisa or florence or perugia or rheims or cologne, was never equalled in the sixteenth century. as the church declined, so did the churches. take st. peter's at rome, colossal in conception and enormously unequal in execution. with characteristic pride and self-confidence pope julius ii to make room for it tore down the old church, and other ancient monuments, venerable and beautiful with the hoar of twelve centuries. even by his contemporaries the architect, bramante, was dubbed ruinante! he made a plan, which was started; then he died. in his place were appointed san gallo and raphael and michelangelo, together or in turn, and towers were added after the close of the sixteenth century. the result is the hugest building in the world, and almost the worst proportioned. after all, there is something appropriate in the fact that, just as the pretensions of the popes expanded and their powers decreased, so their churches should become vaster and yet less impressive. st. peter's was intended to be a marble thunderbolt; but like so many of the papal thunders of that age, it was but a _brutum fulmen_ in the end! the love for the grandiose, carried to excess in st. peter's, is visible in other sixteenth century ecclesiastical buildings, such as the badia at florence. small { } as this is, there is a certain largeness of line that is not gothic, but that goes back to classical models. st. etienne du mont at paris is another good example of the influence of the study of the ancients upon architecture. it is difficult to point to a great cathedral or church built in germany during this century. in england portions of the colleges at oxford and cambridge date from these years, but these portions are grafted on to an older style that really determined them. the greatest glory of english university architecture, the chapel of king's college at cambridge, was finished in the first years of the century. the noble fan-vaulting and the stained-glass windows will be remembered by all who have seen them. [sidenote: ecclesiastic architecture] after the reformation ecclesiastical architecture followed two diverse styles; the protestants cultivated excessive plainness, the catholics excessive ornament. the iconoclasts had no sense for beauty, and thought, as luther put it, that faith was likely to be neglected by those who set a high value on external form. moreover the protestant services necessitated a modification of the medieval cathedral style. what they wanted was a lecture hall with pews; the old columns and transepts and the roomy floor made way for a more practical form. the catholics, on the other hand, by a natural reaction, lavished decoration on their churches as never before. every column was made ornate, every excuse was taken for adding some extraneous embellishment; the walls were crowded with pictures and statues and carving to delight, or at least to arrest, the eye. but it happened that the noble taste of the earlier and simpler age failed; amid all possible devices to give effect, quiet grandeur was wanting. [sidenote: castles] what the people of that secular generation really built with enthusiasm and success were their own { } dwellings. what are the castles of chambord and blois and the louvre and hampton court and heidelberg but houses of play and pleasure such as only a child could dream of? king and cardinal and noble vied in making tower and gable, gallery and court as of a fairy palace; banqueting hall and secret chamber where they and their playmates could revel to their heart's content and leave their initials carved as thickly as boys carve them on an old school desk. and how richly they filled them! a host of new arts sprang up to minister to the needs of these palace-dwellers: our museums are still filled with the glass and enamel, the vases and porcelain, the tapestry and furniture and jewelry that belonged to francis and catharine de' medici and leo x and elizabeth. how perfect was the art of many of these articles of daily use can only be appreciated by studying at first hand the salt-cellars of cellini, or the gold and silver and crystal goblets made by his compeers. examine the clocks, of which the one at strassburg is an example; the detail of workmanship is infinite; even the striking apparatus and the dials showing planetary motions are far beyond our own means, or perhaps our taste. when peter henlein invented the watch, using as the mainspring a coiled feather, he may not have made chronometers as exact as those turned out nowadays, but the "nuremberg eggs"--so called from their place of origin and their shape, not a disk, but a sphere--were marvels of chasing and incrustation and jewelry. [sidenote: love of beauty] the love of the beautiful was universal. the city of that time, less commodious, sanitary, and populous than it is today, was certainly fairer to the eye. enough of old nuremberg and chester and siena and perugia and many other towns remains to assure us that the red-tiled houses, the overhanging storeys, the high gables and quaint dormer windows, presented a { } far more pleasing appearance than do our lines of smoky factories and drab dwellings. [sidenote: music] the men so greedy of all delicate sights and pleasant, would fain also stuff their ears with sweet sounds. and so they did, within the limitations of a still undeveloped technique. they had organs, lutes, viols, lyres, harps, citherns, horns, and a kind of primitive piano known as the clavichord or the clavicembalo. many of these instruments were exquisitely rich and delicate in tone, but they lacked the range and volume and variety of our music. almost all melodies were slow, solemn, plaintive; the tune of luther's hymn gives a good idea of the style then prevalent. when we read that the churches adopted the airs of popular songs, so that hymns were sung to ale-house jigs and catches from the street, we must remember that the said jigs and love-songs were at least as sober and staid as are many of the tunes now expressly written for our hymns. the composers of the time, especially palestrina [sidenote: palestrina, - ] and orlando lasso, [sidenote: lasso, c. - ] did wonders within the limits then possible to introduce richness and variety into song. [sidenote: art and religion] art was already on the decline when it came into conflict with the religious revivals of the time. the causes of the decadence are not hard to understand. the generation of giants, born in the latter half of the fifteenth century, seemed to exhaust the possibilities of artistic expression in painting and sculpture, or at least to exhaust the current ideas so expressible. guido reni and the caracci could do nothing but imitate and recombine. and then came the battle of protestant and catholic to turn men's minds into other channels than that of beauty. even when the reformation was not consciously opposed to art, it shoved it aside as a distraction from the real business of life. thus it has come { } about in protestant lands that the public regards art as either a "business" or an "education." luther himself loved music above all things and did much to popularize it,--while erasmus shuddered at the psalm-singing he heard from protestant congregations! of painting the reformer spoke with admiration, but so rarely! what could art be in the life of a man who was fighting for his soul's salvation? calvin saw more clearly the dangers to the soul from the seductions of this world's transitory charm. images he thought idolatrous in churches and he said outright: "it would be a ridiculous and inept imitation of the papists to fancy that we render god more worthy service in ornamenting our temples and in employing organs and toys of that sort. while the people are thus distracted by external things the worship of god is profaned." so it was that the puritans chased all blandishments not only from church but from life, and art came to be looked upon as a bit immoral. [sidenote: counter-reformation] but the little finger of the reforming pope was thicker than the puritan's loins; where calvin had chastised with whips sixtus v chastised with scorpions. adrian vi, the first catholic reformer after luther, could not away with "those idols of the heathen," the ancient statues. clement vii for a moment restored the old régime of art and licentiousness together, having perino del vaga paint his bathroom with scenes from the life of venus in the manner of giulio romano. but the council of trent made severe regulations against nude pictures, in pursuance of which daniel da volterra was appointed to paint breeches on all the naked figures of michelangelo's last judgment and on similar paintings. sixtus v, who could hardly endure the laocoon and apollo belvidere, was bent on destroying the monuments of heathendom. the ruin was complete when to her cruel hate the church added { } her yet more cruel love. along came the jesuits offering, like pedlars, instead of the good old article a substitute guaranteed by them to be "just as good," and a great deal cheaper. painting was sentimentalized and "moralized" under their tuition; architecture adopted the baroque style, gaudy and insincere. the church was stuffed with gewgaws and tinsel; marble was replaced by painted plaster and saintliness by sickliness. section . books [sidenote: numbers of books published] the sixteenth was the first really bookish century. there were then in germany alone about , works printed, or reprinted. if each edition amounted to --a fair average, for if many editions were smaller, some were much larger--that would mean that about a million volumes were offered to the german public each year throughout the century. there is no doubt that the religious controversy had a great deal to do with the expansion of the reading public, for it had the same effect on the circulation of pamphlets that a political campaign now has on the circulation of the newspaper. the following figures show how rapidly the number of books published in germany increased during the decisive years. in there were , in , in , , in , , and . many of these books were short, controversial tracts; some others were intended as purveyors of news pure and simple. some of these broadsides were devoted to a single event, as the _neue zeitung: die schlacht des türkischen kaisers_, [sidenote: ] others had several items of interest, including letters from distant parts. occasionally a mere lampoon would appear under the title of _neue zeitung_, corresponding to our funny papers. but these substitutes for modern journals were both rare and irregular; the world then got along with much { } less information about current events than it now enjoys. nor was there anything like our weekly and monthly magazines. the new age was impatient of medieval literature. the schoolmen, never widely read, were widely mocked. the humanists, too, fell into deep disgrace, charged with self-conceit, profligacy and irreligion. they still wandered around, like the sophists in ancient greece, bemoaning their hard lot and deploring the coarseness of an unappreciative time. their real fault was that they were, or claimed to be, an aristocracy, and the people, who could read for themselves, no longer were imposed on by pretensions to esoteric learning and a ciceronian style. even the medieval vernacular romances no longer suited the taste of the new generation. a certain class continued to read _amadis of gaul_ or _la morte d'arthur_ furtively, but the arbiters of taste declared that they would no longer do. the puritan found them immoral; the man of the world thought them ridiculous. ascham asserts that "the whole pleasure" of _la morte d'arthur_, "standeth in two special points, in open manslaughter and bold bawdry." the century was hardly out when cervantes published his famous and deadly satire on the knight errant. [sidenote: poetry] but as the tale of chivalry decayed, the old metal was transmuted into the pure gold of the poetry of ariosto, tasso and spenser. the claim to reality was abandoned and the poet quite frankly conjured up a fantastic, fairy world, full of giants and wizards and enchantments and hippogryphs, and knights of incredible pugnacity who rescue damsels of miraculous beauty. well might the italian, before luther and loyola came to take the joy out of life, lose himself in the honeyed words and the amorous adventures of the hero who went mad for love. another generation, and { } tasso must wind his voluptuous verses around a religious epic. edmund spenser, the puritan and englishman, allegorized the whole in such fashion that while the conscience was soothed by knowing that all the knights and ladies represented moral virtues or vices, the senses were titillated by mellifluous cadences and by naked descriptions of the temptations of the bower of bliss. and how british that queen elizabeth of england should impersonate the principal virtues! poetry was in the hearts of the people; song was on their lips. the early spring of italy came later to the northern latitudes, but when it did come, it brought with it marot and ronsard in france, wyatt and surrey in england. more significant than the output of the greater poets was the wide distribution of lyric talent. not a few compilations of verses offer to the public the songs of many writers, some of them unknown by name. england, especially, was "a nest of singing birds," rapturously greeting the dawn, and the rimes were mostly of "love, whose month is always may." each songster poured forth his heart in fresh, frank praise of his mistress's beauty, or in chiding of her cruelty, or in lamenting her unfaithfulness. there was something very simple and direct about it all; nothing deeply psychological until at the very end of the century shakespeare's "sugared sonnets" gave his "private friends" something to think about as well as something to enjoy. [sidenote: wit] if life could not be all love it could be nearly all laughter. wit and humor were appreciated above all things, and satire awoke to a sense of her terrible power. two statues at rome, called pasquino and marforio, were used as billboards to which the people affixed squibbs and lampoons against the government and public men. erasmus laughed at everything; { } luther and murner belabored each other with ridicule; a man like peter aretino owed his evil eminence in the art of blackmailing to his wit. [sidenote: rabelais, c. - ] but the "master of scoffing," as bacon far too contemptuously called him, was rabelais. his laughter is as multitudinous as the ocean billows, and as wholesome as the sunshine. he laughed not because he scorned life but because he loved it; he did not "warm both hands" before the fire of existence, he rollicked before its blaze. it cannot be said that he took a "slice of life" as his subject, for this would imply a more exquisite excision than he would care to make; rather he reached out, in the fashion of his time, and pulled with both hands from the dish before him, the very largest and fattest chunk of life that he could grasp. "you never saw a man," he said of himself, "who would more love to be king or to be rich than i would, so that i could live richly and not work and not worry, and that i might enrich all my friends and all good, wise people." like whitman he was so in love with everything that the mere repetition of common names delighted him. it took pages to tell what pantagruel ate and still more pages to tell what he drank. this giant dressed with a more than royal lavishness and when he played cards, how many games do you suppose rabelais enumerated one after the other without pausing to take breath? two hundred and fourteen! so he treated everything; his appetite was like gargantua's mouth. this was the very stamp of the age; it was gluttonous of all pleasures, of food and drink and gorgeous clothes and fine dwellings and merry-making without end, and adventure without stint or limit. almost every sixteenth-century man was a pantagruel, whose lust for living fully and hotly no satiety could cloy, no fear of consequences { } dampen. the ascetic gloom and terror of the middle ages burned away like an early fog before the summer sun. men saw the world unfolding before them as if in a second creation, and they hurled themselves on it with but one fear, that they should be too slow or too backward to garner all its wonder and all its pleasure for themselves. [sidenote: tales of vagabonds] and the people were no longer content to leave the glory of life to their superiors. they saw no reason why all the good things should be preserved like game for the nobles to hunt, or inclosed like commons, for the pasturage of a few aristocratic mutton-heads. so in literature they were quite content to let the fastidious gentry read their fill of poetry about knights wandering in fairy-lands forlorn, while they themselves devoured books about humbler heroes. the picaresque novel in spain and its counterparts, till eulenspiegel or reinecke vos in the north, told the adventures of some rascal or vagabond. living by his wits he found it a good life to cheat and to gamble, to drink and to make love. [sidenote: plays] for those who could not concentrate on a book, there was the drama. from the middle ages, when the play was a vehicle of religious instruction, it developed in the period of the renaissance into a completely secular mirror of life. in italy there was an exquisite literary drama, turning on some plot of love or tale of seduction, and there was alongside of this a popular sort of farce known as the commedia dell' arte, in which only the outline of the plot was sketched, and the characters, usually typical persons as the lover, his lady, the bragging captain, the miser, would fill in the dialogue and such comic "business" as tickled the fancy of the audience. somewhat akin to these pieces in spirit were the { } shrovetide farces written in germany by the simple nuremberger who describes himself in the verses, literally translatable: hans sachs is a shoe- maker and poet, too. the people, always moral, delighted no less in the rough fun of these artless scenes than in the apothegms and sound advice in which they abounded. [sidenote: the spirit of the sixteenth century] the contrast of two themes much in the thought of men, typifies the spirit of the age. the one motiv is loud at the beginning of the reformation but almost dies away before the end of the century; the other, beginning at the same time, rises slowly into a crescendo culminating far beyond the boundaries of the age. the first theme was the prodigal son, treated by no less than twenty-seven german dramatists, not counting several in other languages. to the protestant, the younger son represented faith, the elder son works. to all, the exile in the far country, the riotous living with harlots and the feeding on husks with swine, meant the life of this world with its pomps and vanities, its lusts and sinful desires that become as mast to the soul. the return to the father is the return to god's love here below and to everlasting felicity above. to those who can believe it, it is the most beautiful story in the world. [sidenote: faust] and it is a perfect contrast to that other tale, equally typical of the time, the fable of faust. though there was a real man of this name, a charlatan and necromancer who, in his extensive wanderings visited wittenberg, probably in , and who died about - , his life was but a peg on which to hang a moral. he became the type of the man who had sold his soul to the devil in return for the power to know everything, to do everything and to enjoy everything in this world. { } the first printed _faust-book_ ( ) passed for three centuries as a protestant production, but the discovery of an older and quite different form of the legend in changed the whole literary problem. it has been asserted now that the faust of this unknown author is a parody of luther by a catholic. he is a professor at wittenberg, he drinks heartily, his marriage with helena recalls the catholic caricature of luther's marriage; his compact with the devil is such as an apostate might have made. but it is truer to say that faust is not a caricature of luther, but his devilish counterpart, just as in early christian literature simon magus is the antithesis of peter. faust is the man of satan as luther was the man of god; their adventures are somewhat similar but with the reverse purpose. and faust is the sixteenth century man as truly as the prodigal or pantagruel. to live to the full; to know all science and all mysteries, to drain to the dregs the cup crowned with the wine of the pleasure and the pride of life: this was worth more than heaven! the full meaning of the parable of salvation well lost for human experience was not brought out until goethe took it up; but it is implied both in the german faust-books and in marlowe's play. [sidenote: greatness of the sixteenth century] many twentieth-century men find it difficult to do justice to the age of the reformation. we are now at the end of the period inaugurated by columbus and luther and we have reversed the judgments of their contemporaries. religion no longer takes the place that it then did, nor does the difference between catholic and protestant any longer seem the most important thing in religion. moreover, capitalism and the state, both of which started on their paths of conquest then, are now attacked. again, the application of any statistical method makes the former ages seem to shrink in comparison { } with the present. in population and wealth, in war and in science we are immeasurably larger than our ancestors. many a merchant has a bigger income than had henry viii, and many a college boy knows more astronomy than did kepler. but if we judge the greatness of an age, as we should, not by its distance from us, but by its own achievement, by what its poets dreamed and by what its strong men accomplished, the importance of the sixteenth century can be appreciated. [sidenote: an age of aspiration] it was an "experiencing" age. it loved sensation with the greediness of childhood; it intoxicated itself with rabelais and titian, with the gold of peru and with the spices and vestments of the orient. it was a daring age. men stood bravely with luther for spiritual liberty, or they gave their lives with magellan to compass the earth or with bruno to span the heavens. it was an age of aspiration. it dreamed with erasmus of the time when men should be christ-like, or with more of the place where they should be just; or with michelangelo it pondered the meaning of sorrow, or with montaigne it stored up daily wisdom. and of this time, bone of its bone and flesh of its flesh, was born the world's supreme poet with an eye to see the deepest and a tongue to tell the most of the human heart. truly such a generation was not a poor, nor a backward one. rather it was great in what it achieved, sublime in what it dreamed; abounding in ripe wisdom and in heroic deeds; full of light and of beauty and of life! { } chapter xiv the reformation interpreted the historians who have treated the reformation might be classified in a variety of ways: according to their national or confessional bias, or by their scientific methods or by their literary achievement. for our present purpose it will be convenient to classify them, according to their point of view, into four leading schools of thought which, for want of better names i may call the religious-political, the rationalist, the liberal-romantic, and the economic-evolutionary. like all categories of things human these are but rough; many, if not most, historians have been influenced by more than one type of thought. when different philosophies of history prevail at the same time, an eclecticism results. the religious and political explanations were at their height in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, though they survived thereafter; the rationalist critique dominates the eighteenth century and lasts in some instances to the nineteenth; the liberal-romantic school came in with the french revolution and subsided into secondary importance about , when the economists and darwinians began to assert their claims. section . the religious and political interpretations. (sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) [sidenote: early protestants] the early protestant theory of the reformation was a simple one based on the analogy of scripture. god, it was thought, had chosen a peculiar people to serve him, for whose instruction and guidance, particularly in view of their habitual backsliding, he raised up a { } series of witnesses to the truth, prophets, apostles and martyrs. god's care for the jews under the old dispensation was transferred to the church in the new, and this care was confined to that branch of the true church to which the particular writer and historian happened to belong. [sidenote: the name "reformation"] the word "reformation," far older than the movement to which it applies _par éminence_, indicates exactly what its leaders intended it should be. "reform" has been one of the perennial watchwords of mankind; in the middle ages it was applied to the work of a number of leaders like rienzi, and was taken as the program of the councils of constance and basle. luther adopted it at least as early as , in a letter to duke george stating that "above all things a common reformation of the spiritual and temporal estates should be undertaken," and he incorporated it in the title of his greatest german pamphlet. the other name frequently applied by luther and his friends to their party was "the gospel." in his own eyes the wittenberg professor was doing nothing more nor less than restoring the long buried evangel of jesus and paul. "luther began," says richard burton, "upon a sudden to drive away the foggy mists of superstition and to restore the purity of the primitive church." it would be easy but superfluous to multiply _ad libitum_ quotations showing that the early protestants referred everything to the general purposes of providence and sometimes to the direct action of god, or to the impertinent but more assiduous activity of the devil. it is interesting to note that they were not wholly blind to natural causes. luther himself saw, as early as , the connection between his movement and the revival of learning, which he compared to a john the baptist preparing the way for the preaching of the gospel. luther also saw, what many of his { } followers did not, that the reformation was no accident, depending on his own personal intervention, but was inevitable and in progress when he began to preach. "the remedy and suppression of abuses," said he in , "was already in full swing before luther's doctrine arose . . . and it was much to be feared that there would have been a disorderly, stormy, dangerous revolution, such as münzer began, had not a steady doctrine intervened." english protestant historians, while fully adopting the theory of an overruling providence, were disposed to give due weight to secondary, natural causes. foxe, while maintaining that the overthrow of the papacy was a great miracle and an everlasting mercy, yet recognized that it was rendered possible by the invention of printing and by the "first push and assault" given by the ungodly humanists. burnet followed foxe's thesis in a much better book. while printing many documents he also was capable, in the interests of piety, of concealing facts damaging to the protestants. for his panegyric he was thanked by the parliament. the work was dedicated to charles ii with the flattering and truthful remark that "the first step that was made in the reformation was the restoring to your royal ancestors the rights of the crown and an entire dominion over all their subjects." the task of the contemporary german protestant historian, seckendorf, was much harder, for the thirty years war had, as he confesses, made many people doubt the benefits of the reformation, distrust its principles, and reject its doctrines. he discharged the thankless labor of apology in a work of enormous erudition, still valuable to the special student for the documents it quotes. [sidenote: catholics] the catholic philosophy of history was to the protestant as a seal to the wax, or as a negative to a { } photograph; what was raised in one was depressed in the other, what was light in one was shade in the other. the same theory of the chosen people, of the direct divine governance and of satanic meddling, was the foundation of both. that luther was a bad man, an apostate, begotten by an incubus, and familiar with the devil, went to explain his heresy, and he was commonly compared to mohammed or arius. bad, if often trivial motives were found for his actions, as that he broke away from rome because he failed to get a papal dispensation to marry. the legend that his protest against indulgences was prompted by the jealousy of the augustinians toward the dominicans to whom the pope had committed their sale, was started by emser in , and has been repeated by peter martyr d'anghierra, by cochlaeus, by bossuet and by most catholic and secular historians down to our own day. apart from the revolting polemic of dr. sanders, who found the sole cause of the reformation in sheer depravity, the catholics produced, prior to , only one noteworthy contribution to the subject, that of bossuet, bishop of meaux. [sidenote: bossuet] his _history of the variations of the protestant churches_, written without that odious defamation of character that had hitherto been the staple of confessional polemic, and with much real eloquence, sets out to condemn the reformers out of their own mouths by their mutual contradictions. truth is one, bossuet maintains, and that which varies is not truth, but the protestants have almost as many varieties as there are pastors. never before nor since has such an effective attack been made on protestantism from the christian standpoint. with persuasive iteration the moral is driven home: there is nothing certain in a religion without a central authority; revolt is sure to lead to indifference and atheism in opinion, and to the overthrow of all established order in civil { } life. the chief causes of the reformation are found in the admitted corruption of the church, and in the personal animosities of the reformers. the immoral consequences of their theories arc alleged, as in luther's ideas about polygamy and in zwingli's denial of original sin and his latitudinarian admission of good heathens to heaven. [sidenote: secular historians] a great deal that was not much biassed by creed was written on the reformation during this period. it all goes to show how completely men of the most liberal tendencies were under the influence of their environment, for their comments were almost identical with those of the most convinced partisans. for the most part secular historians neglected ecclesiastical history as a separate discipline. edward hall, the typical protestant chronicler, barely mentions religion. camden apologizes for touching lightly on church history and not confining himself to politics and war, which he considers the proper subject of the annalist. buchanan ignores the reformation; de thou passes over it with the fewest words, fearing to give offence to either papists or huguenots. jovius has only a page or two on it in all his works. in one place he finds the chief cause of the reformation in a malignant conjunction of the stars; in another he speaks of it as a revival of one of the old heresies condemned at constance. polydore vergil pays small attention to a schism, the cause of which he found in the weakness of men's minds and their propensity to novelty. the one valuable explanation of the rise of protestantism contributed by the secular historians of this age was the theory that it was largely a political phenomenon. that there was much truth in this is evident; the danger of the theory was in its over-statement, and in its too superficial application. how deeply the reformation appealed to the political needs { } of that age has only been shown in the nineteenth century; how subtly, how unconsciously the two revolutions often worked together was beyond the comprehension of even the best minds of that time. the political explanation that they offered was simply that religion was a hypocritical pretext for the attainment of the selfish ends of monarchs or of a faction. even in this there was some truth, but it was far from being the larger part. [sidenote: ] vettori in his _history of italy_ mentions luther merely to show how the emperor used him as a lever against the pope. guicciardini [sidenote: guicciardini] accounts for the reformation by the indignation of the germans at paying money for indulgences. from this beginning, honest or at least excusable in itself, he says, luther, carried away with ambition and popular applause, nourished a party. the pope might easily have allowed the revolt to die had he neglected it, but he took the wrong course and blew the tiny spark into a great flame by opposing it. a number of french writers took up the parable. brantôme says that he leaves the religious issue to those who know more than he does about it, but he considers a change perilous, "for a new religion among a people demands afterwards a change of government." he thought luther won over a good many of the clergy by allowing them to marry. martin du bellay found the cause of the english schism in henry's divorce and the small respect the pope had for his majesty. davila, de mézeray and daniel, writing the history of the french civil wars, treated the huguenots merely as a political party. so they were, but they were something more. even hugo grotius could not sound the deeper causes of the dutch revolt and of the religious revolution. [sidenote: sleidan] the first of all the histories of the german reformation { } was also, for at least two centuries, the best. though surpassed in some particulars by others, sleidan united more of the qualities of a great historian than anyone else who wrote extensively on church history in the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries: fairness, accuracy, learning, skill in presentation. in words that recall ranke's motto he declared that, though a protestant, he would be impartial and set forth simply "rem totam, sicut est acta." "in describing religious affairs," he continues, "i was not able to omit politics, for, as i said before, they almost always interact, and in our age least of all can they be separated." withal, he regards the reformation as a great victory for god's word, and luther as a notable champion of the true religion. in plain, straightforward narrative, without much philosophic reflection, he sets forth,--none better,--the diplomatic and theological side of the movement without probing its causes or inquiring into the popular support on which all the rest was based. [sidenote: sarpi] greater art and deeper psychological penetration than sleidan compassed is found in the writings of paul sarpi, "the great unmasker of the tridentine council," as milton aptly called him. this friar whose book could only be published on protestant soil, this historian admired by macaulay as the best of modern times and denounced by acton as fit for newgate prison, has furnished students with one of the most curious of psychological puzzles. omitting discussion of his learning and accuracy, which have recently been severely attacked and perhaps discredited, let us ask what was his attitude in regard to his subject? it is difficult to place him as either a protestant, a catholic apologist or a rationalist. the most probable explanation of his attacks on the creed in which he believed and of his favorable presentation of the acts of the { } heretics he must have anathematized, is that he was a catholic reformer, one who ardently desired to purify the church, but who disliked her political entanglements. it is not unnatural to compare him with adrian vi and contarini who, in a freer age, had written scathing indictments of their own church; one may also find in döllinger a parallel to him. whatever his bias, his limitations are obviously those of his age; his explanations of the protestant revolt, of which he gave a full history as introductory to his main subject, were exactly those that had been advanced by his predecessors: it was a divine dispensation, it was caused by the abuses of the church and by the jealousy of augustinian and dominican friars. [sidenote: harrington] a brilliant anticipation of the modern economic school of historical thought is found in the _oceana_ of harrington, who suggested that the causes of the revolution in england were less religious than social. when henry viii put the confiscated lands of abbey and noble into the hands of scions of the people, harrington thought that he had destroyed the ancient balance of power in the constitution, and, while leveling feudalism and the church, had raised up unto the throne an even more dangerous enemy. section . the rationalistic critique. (the eighteenth century) while the "philosophers" of the enlightenment were not the first to judge the reformation from a secular standpoint, they marked a great advance in historical interpretation as compared with the humanists. the latter had been able to make of the whole movement nothing but either a delusion or a fraud inspired by refined and calculated policy. the philosophers saw deeper into the matter than that; though for them, also, religion was false, originating, as voltaire put it, when { } the first knave met the first fool. but they were able to see causes of religious change and to point out instructive analogies. [sidenote: montesquieu] montesquieu showed that religions served the needs of their adherents and were thus adapted by them to the prevailing civil organization. after comparing mohammedanism and christianity he said that the north of europe adopted protestantism because it had the spirit of independence whereas the south, naturally servile, clung to the authoritative catholic creed. the divisions among protestants, too, corresponded, he said, to their secular polity; thus lutheranism became despotic and calvinism republican because of the circumstances in which each arose. the suppression of church festivals in protestant countries he thought due to the greater need and zest for labor in the north. he accounted for the alleged fact that protestantism produced more free-thinkers by saying that their unadorned cult naturally aroused a less warm attachment than the sensuous ritual of romanism. [sidenote: voltaire] one of the greatest of historians was voltaire. none other has made history so nearly universal as did he, peering into every side of life and into every corner of the earth. no authority imposed on him, no fact was admitted to be inexplicable by natural laws. it is true that he was not very learned and that he had strong prejudices against what he called "the most infamous superstition that ever brutalized man." but with it all he brought more freedom and life into the story of mankind than had any of his predecessors. for his history of the reformation he was dependent on bossuet, sarpi, and a few other general works; there is no evidence that he perused any of the sources. but his treatment of the phenomena is wonderful. { } beginning with an enthusiastic account of the greatness of the renaissance, its discoveries, its opulence, its roll of mighty names, he proceeds to compare the reformation with the two contemporaneous religious revolutions in mohammedanism, the one in africa, the other in persia. he does not probe deeply, but no one else had even thought of looking to comparative religion [sidenote: comparative religion] for light. in tracing the course of events he is more conventional, finding rather small causes for large effects. the whole thing started, he assures us, in a quarrel of augustinians and dominicans over the spoils of indulgence-sales, "and this little squabble of monks in a corner of saxony, produced more than a hundred years of discord, fury, and misfortune for thirty nations." "england separated from the pope because king henry fell in love." the swiss revolted because of the painful impression produced by the jetzer scandal. the reformation, in voltaire's opinion, is condemned by its bloodshed and by its appeal to the passions of the mob. the dogmas of the reformers are considered no whit more rational than those of their opponents, save that zwingli is praised for "appearing more zealous for freedom than for christianity. of course he erred," wittily comments our author, "but how humane it is to err thus!" the influence of montesquieu is found in the following early economic interpretation in the _philosophic dictionary_: there are some nations whose religion is the result of neither climate nor government. what cause detached north germany, denmark, most of switzerland, holland, england, scotland, and ireland [sic] from the roman communion? poverty. indulgences . . . were sold too dear. the prelates and monks absorbed the whole revenue of a province. people adopted a cheaper religion. [sidenote: scotch historians] of the two scotch historians that were the most faithful students of voltaire, one, david hume, imbibed { } perfectly his skepticism and scorn for christianity; the other, william robertson, [sidenote: robertson] everything but that. presbyterian clergyman as was the latter, he found that the "happy reformation of religion" had produced "a revolution in the sentiments of mankind the greatest as well as the most beneficial that has happened since the publication of christianity." such an operation, in his opinion, "historians the least prone to superstition and credulity ascribe to divine providence." but this providence worked by natural causes, specially prepared, among which he enumerates: the long schism of the fourteenth century, the pontificates of alexander vi and julius ii, the immorality and wealth of the clergy together with their immunities and oppressive taxes, the invention of printing, the revival of learning, and, last but not least, the fact that, in the writer's judgment, the doctrines of the papists were repugnant to scripture. with breadth, power of synthesis, and real judiciousness, he traced the course of the reformation. he blamed luther for his violence, but praised him--and here speaks the middle-class advocate of law and order--for his firm stand against the peasants in their revolt. [sidenote: hume] inferior to robertson in the use of sources as well as in the scope of his treatment, hume was his superior in having completely escaped the spell of the supernatural. his analysis of the nature of ecclesiastical establishments, with which he begins his account of the english reformation, is acute if bitter. he shows why it is that, in his view, priests always find it their interest to practice on the credulity and passions of the populace, and to mix error, superstition and delusion even with the deposit of truth. it was therefore incumbent on the civil power to put the church under governmental regulation. this policy, inaugurated at that time and directed against the great evil done to { } mankind by the church of rome, in suppressing liberty of thought and in opposing the will of the state, was one cause, though not the largest cause, of the reformation. other influences were the invention of printing and the revival of learning and the violent, popular character of luther and his friends, who appealed not to reason but to the prejudices of the multitude. they secured the support of the masses by fooling them into the belief that they were thinking for themselves, and the support of the government by denouncing doctrines unfavorable to sovereignty. the doctrine of justification by faith, hume thought, was in harmony with the general law by which religions tend more and more to exaltation of the deity and to self-abasement of the worshipper. tory as he was, he judged the effects of the reformation as at first favorable to the execution of justice and finally dangerous by exciting a restless spirit of opposition to authority. one evil result was that it exalted "those wretched composers of metaphysical polemics, the theologians," to a point of honor that no poet or philosopher had ever attained. [sidenote: gibbon] the ablest and fairest estimate of the reformation found in the eighteenth century is contained in the few pages edward gibbon devoted to that subject in his great history of _the decline and fall of the roman empire_. "a philosopher," he begins, "who calculates the degree of their merit [_i.e._ of zwingli, luther and calvin] will prudently ask from what articles of faith, above or against our reason they have enfranchised the christians," and, in answering this question he will "rather be surprised at the timidity than scandalized by the freedom of the first reformers." they adopted the inspired scriptures with all the miracles, the great mysteries of the trinity and incarnation, the theology of the four or six first councils, the athanasian creed with its damnation of all who did { } not believe in the catholic faith. instead of consulting their reason in the article of transubstantiation, they became entangled in scruples, and so luther maintained a corporeal and calvin a real presence in the eucharist. they not only adopted but improved upon and popularized the "stupendous doctrines of original sin, redemption, faith, grace and predestination," to such purpose that "many a sober christian would rather admit that a wafer is god than that god is a cruel and capricious tyrant." "and yet," gibbon continues, "the services of luther and his rivals are solid and important, and the philosopher must own his obligations to these fearless enthusiasts. by their hands the lofty fabric of superstition, from the abuse of indulgences to the intercession of the virgin, has been levelled with the ground. myriads of both sexes of the monastic profession have been restored to the liberties and labors of social life." credulity was no longer nourished on daily miracles of images and relics; a simple worship "the most worthy of man, the least unworthy of the deity" was substituted for an "imitation of paganism." finally, the chain of authority was broken and each christian taught to acknowledge no interpreter of scripture but his own conscience. this led, rather as a consequence than as a design, to toleration, to indifference and to skepticism. wieland, on the other hand, frankly gave the opinion, anticipating nietzsche, that the reformation had done harm in retarding the progress of philosophy for centuries. the italians, he said, might have effected a salutary and rational reform had not luther interfered and made the people a party to a dispute which should have been left to scholars. [sidenote: goethe] goethe at one time wrote that lutherdom had driven quiet culture back, and at another spoke of the { } reformation as "a sorry spectacle of boundless confusion, error fighting with error, selfishness with selfishness, the truth only here and there heaving in sight." again he wrote to a friend: "the character of luther is the only interesting thing in the reformation, and the only thing, moreover, that made an impression on the masses. all the rest is a lot of bizarre trash we have not yet, to our cost, cleared away." in the last years of his long life he changed his opinion somewhat for, if we can trust the report of his conversations with eckermann, he told his young disciple that people hardly realized how much they owed to luther who had given them the courage to stand firmly on god's earth. the treatment of the subject by german protestants underwent a marked change under the influence of pietism and the enlightenment. just as the earlier orthodox school had over-emphasized luther's narrowness, and had been concerned chiefly to prove that the reformation changed nothing save abuses, so now the leader's liberalism was much over-stressed. it was in view of the earlier protestant bigotry that lessing [sidenote: lessing] apostrophized the wittenberg professor: "luther! thou great, misunderstood man! thou hast freed us from the yoke of tradition, who is to free us from the more unbearable yoke of the letter? who will finally bring us christianity such as thou thyself would now teach, such as christ himself would teach?" german robertsons, though hardly equal to the scotch, were found in mosheim and schmidt. both wrote the history of the protestant revolution in the endeavor to make it all natural. in mosheim, indeed, the devil still appears, though in the background; schmidt is as rational and as fair as any german protestant could then be. { } section . the liberal-romantic appreciation. (circa -c. ) at about the end of the eighteenth century historiography underwent a profound change due primarily to three influences: . the french revolution and the struggle for political democracy throughout nearly a century after ; . the romantic movement; . the rise of the scientific spirit. the judgment of the reformation changed accordingly; the rather unfavorable verdict of the eighteenth century was completely reversed. hardly by its extremest partisans in the protestant camp has the importance of that movement and the character of its leaders been esteemed so highly as it was by the writers of the liberal-romantic school. indeed, so little had confession to do with this bias that the finest things about luther and the most extravagant praise of his work, was uttered not by protestants, but by the catholic döllinger, the jew heine, and the free thinkers, michelet, carlyle, and froude. [sidenote: the french revolution] the french revolution taught men to see, or misled them into construing, the whole of history as a struggle for liberty against oppression. naturally, the reformation was one of the favorite examples of this perpetual warfare; it was the revolution of the earlier age, and luther was the great liberator, standing for the rights of man against a galling tyranny. [sidenote: condorcet] the first to draw the parallel between reformation and revolution was condorcet in his noble essay on _the advance of the human spirit_, written in prison and published posthumously. luther, said he, punished the crimes of the clergy and freed some peoples from the yoke of the papacy; he would have freed all, save for the false politics of the kings who, feeling instinctively that religious liberty would bring political enfranchisement, banded together against the { } revolt. he adds that the epoch brought added strength to the government and to political science and that it purified morals by abolishing sacerdotal celibacy; but that it was (like the revolution, one reads between the lines) soiled by great atrocities. in the year , the institute of france announced as the subject for a prize competition, "what has been the influence of the reformation of luther on the political situation of the several states of europe and on the progress of enlightenment?" the prize was won by charles de villers [sidenote: villers] in an essay maintaining elaborately the thesis that the gradual improvement of the human species has been effected by a series of revolutions, partly silent, partly violent, and that the object of all these risings has been the attainment of either religious or of civil liberty. after arguing his position in respect to the reformation, the author eulogizes it for having established religious freedom, promoted civil liberty, and for having endowed europe with a variety of blessings, including almost everything he liked. thus, in his opinion, the reformation made protestant countries more wealthy by keeping the papal tax-gatherers aloof; it started "that grand idea the balance of power," and it prepared the way for a general philosophical enlightenment. [sidenote: guizot] the thesis of villers is exactly that maintained, with more learning and caution, by guizot. according to him: the reformation was a vast effort made by the human race to secure its freedom; it was a new-born desire to think and judge freely and independently of all ideas and opinions, which until then europe had received or been bound to receive from the hands of antiquity. it was a great endeavor to emancipate the human reason and to call things by their right names. it was an insurrection of the human mind against the absolute power of the spiritual estate. { } [sidenote: romantic movement] but there was more than politics to draw the sympathies of the nineteenth century to the sixteenth. a large anthology of poetical, artistic and musical tributes to luther and the reformation might be made to show how congenial they were to the spirit of that time. one need only mention werner's drama on the subject of luther's life ( ), mendelssohn's "reformation symphony" ( - ), meyerbeer's opera "the huguenots" ( ), and kaulbach's painting "the age of the reformation" (c. ). in fact the reformation was a romantic movement, with its emotional and mystical piety, its endeavor to transcend the limits of the classic spirit, to search for the infinite, to scorn the trammels of traditional order and method. [sidenote: mme. de staël] all this is reflected in mme. de staël's enthusiastic appreciation of protestant germany, in which she found a people characterized by reflectiveness, idealism, and energy of inner conviction. she contrasted luther's revolution of ideas with her own countrymen's revolution of acts, practical if not materialistic. the german had brought back religion from an affair of politics to be a matter of life; had transferred it from the realm of calculated interest to that of heart and brain. [sidenote: heine] much the same ideas, set forth with the most dazzling brilliancy of style, animate heine's too much neglected sketch of german religion and philosophy. to a french public, unappreciative of german literature, heine points out that the place taken in france by _belles lettres_ is taken east of the rhine by metaphysics. from luther to kant there is one continuous development of thought, and no less than two revolutions in spiritual values. luther was the sword and tongue of his time; the tempest that shattered the old oaks of hoary tyranny; his hymn was the marseillaise of the spirit; he made a revolution and not with { } rose-leaves, either, but with a certain, "divine brutality." he gave his people language, kant gave them thought; luther deposed the pope; robespierre decapitated the king; kant disposed of god: it was all one insurrection of man against the same tyrant under different names. under the triple influence of liberalism, romanticism and the scientific impulse presently to be described, most of the great historians of the middle nineteenth century wrote. if not the greatest, yet the most lovable of them all, was jules michelet, [sidenote: michelet] a free-thinker of huguenot ancestry. his _history of france_ is like the biography of some loved and worshipped genius; he agonizes in her trials, he glories in her triumphs. and to all great men, her own and others, he puts but one inexorable question, "what did you do for the people?" and according to their answer they stand or fall before him. it is just here that one notices (what entirely escaped previous generations), that the "people" here means that part of it now called, in current cant, "the bourgeoisie," that educated middle class with some small property and with the vote. for the ignorant laborer and the pauper michelet had as little concern as he had small patience with king and noble and priest. one thing that he and his contemporaries prized in luther was just that bourgeois virtue that made him a model husband and father, faithfully performing a daily task for an adequate reward. luther's joys, he assures us, were "those of the heart, of the man, the innocent happiness of family and home. what family more holy, what home more pure?" but he returns ever and again to the thought that the huguenots were the republicans of their age and that, "luther has been the restorer of liberty. if now we exercise in all its fullness this highest prerogative of human intelligence, it is to him we are indebted for it. { } to whom do i owe the power of publishing what i am now writing, save to this liberator of modern thought?" michelet employed his almost matchless rhetoric not only to exalt the reformers to the highest pinnacle of greatness, but to blacken the character of their adversaries, the obscurantists, the jesuits, catherine de' medici. [sidenote: froude] english liberalism found its perfect expression in the work of froude. built up on painstaking research, readable as a novel, cut exactly to the prejudices of the english protestant middle class, _the history of england from the fall of wolsey to the defeat of the spanish armada_ won a resounding immediate success. froude loved protestantism for the enemies it made, and as a mild kind of rationalism. the reformers, he thought, triumphed because they were armed with the truth; it was a revolt of conscience against lies, a real religion over against "a superstition which was but the counterpart of magic and witchcraft" and which, at that time, "meant the stake, the rack, the gibbet, the inquisition dungeons and the devil enthroned." it was the different choice made then by england and spain that accounted for the greatness of the former and the downfall of the latter, for, after the spaniard, once "the noblest, grandest and most enlightened people in the known world," had chosen for the saints and the inquisition, "his intellect shrivelled in his brain and the sinews shrank in his self-bandaged limbs." [sidenote: liberals] practically the same type of opinion is found in the whole school of middle-century historians. "our firm belief is," wrote macaulay, "that the north owes its great civilization and prosperity chiefly to the moral effect of the protestant reformation, and that the decay of the southern countries is to be mainly ascribed to the great catholic revival." it would be pleasant, { } were there space, to quote similar enthusiastic appreciations from the french scholars quinet and thierry, the englishman herbert spencer and the americans motley and prescott. they all regarded the reformation as at once an enlightenment and enfranchisement. even the philosophers rushed into the same camp. carlyle worshipped luther as a hero; emerson said that his "religious movement was the foundation of so much intellectual life in europe; that is, luther's conscience animating sympathetically the conscience of millions, the pulse passed into thought, and ultimated itself in galileos, keplers, swedenborgs, newtons, shakespeares, bacons and miltons." back of all this appreciation was a strong unconscious sympathy between the age of the reformation and that of victoria. the creations of the one, protestantism, the national state, capitalism, individualism, reached their perfect maturity in the other. the very moderate liberals of the latter found in the former just that "safe and sane" spirit of reform which they could thoroughly approve. [sidenote: german patriots] the enthusiasm generated by political democracy in france, england and america, was supplemented in germany by patriotism. herder first emphasized luther's love of country as his great virtue; arndt, in the napoleonic wars, counted it unto him for righteousness that he hated italian craft and dreaded french deceitfulness. fichte, at the same time, in his fervent _speeches to the german nation_, called the reformation "the consummate achievement of the german people," and its "perfect act of world-wide significance." freytag, at a later period, tried to educate the public to search for a german state at once national and liberal. in his _pictures from the german past_, largely painted from sixteenth-century models, he places all the high-lights on "deutschtum" and "bürgertum," { } and all the shade on the foreigners and the junkers. with freytag as a german liberal may be classed d. f. strauss, who defended the reformers for choosing, rather than superficial culture, "the better part," "the one thing needful," which was truth. [sidenote: scientific spirit] it is now high time to say something of the third great influence that, early in the nineteenth century, transformed historiography. it was the rise of the scientific spirit, of the fruitful conception of a world lapped in universal law. for two centuries men had gradually become accustomed to the thought of an external nature governed by an unbreakable chain of cause and effect, but it was still believed that man, with his free will, was an exception and that history, therefore, consisting of the sum total of humanity's arbitrary actions, was incalculable and in large part inexplicable. but the more closely men studied the past, and the more widely and deeply did the uniformity of nature soak into their consciousness, the more "natural" did the progress of the human race seem. when it was found that every age had its own temper and point of view, that men turned with one accord in the same direction as if set by a current, long before any great man had come to create the current, the influence of personality seemed to sink into the background, and that of other influences to be preponderant. [sidenote: hegel] quite inevitably the first natural and important philosophy of history took a semi-theological, semi-personal form. the philosopher hegel, pondering on the fact that each age has its own unmistakable "time-spirit" and that each age is a natural, even logical, development of some antecedent, announced the doctrine of ideas as the governing forces in human progress. history was but the development of spirit, or the realization of its idea; and its fundamental law was the necessary "progress in the consciousness of freedom." the { } oriental knew that one is free, the greek that some are free, the germans that all are free. in this third, or teutonic, stage of evolution, the reformation was one of the longest steps. the characteristic of modern times is that the spirit is conscious of its own freedom and wills the true, the eternal and the universal. the dawn of this period, after the long and terrible night of the middle ages, is the renaissance, its sunrise the reformation. in order to prove his thesis, hegel labors to show that the cause of the protestant revolt in the corruption of the church was not accidental but necessary, inasmuch as, at the catholic stage of progress, that which is adored must necessarily be sensuous, but at the lofty german level the worshipper must look for god in the spirit and heart, that is, in faith. the subjectivism of luther is due to german sincerity manifesting the self-consciousness of the world-spirit; his doctrine of the eucharist, conservative as it seems to the rationalist, is in reality a manifestation of the same spirituality, in the assertion of an immediate relation of christ to the soul. in short, the essence of the reformation is said to be that man in his very nature is destined to be free, and all history since luther's time is but a working out of the implications of his position. if only the germanic nations have adopted protestantism, it is because only they have reached the highest state of spiritual development. [sidenote: baur] the philosopher's truest disciple was ferdinand christian baur, of whom it has been said that he rather deduced history than narrated it. with much detail he filled in the outline offered by the master, in as far as the subject of church history was concerned. he showed that the reformation (a term to which he objected, apparently preferring division, or schism) was bound to come from antecedents already in full operation before luther. at most, he admitted, the { } personal factor was decisive of the time and place of the inevitable revolution, but said that the most powerful personality would have been helpless but for the popularity of the ideas expressed by him. like hegel, he deduced the causes of the movement from the corruption of the medieval church, and like him he regarded all later history as but the tide of which the first wave broke in . the true principle of the movement, religious autonomy and subjective freedom, he believed, had been achieved only for states in the sixteenth century, but thereafter logically and necessarily came to be applied to individuals. [sidenote: ranke] from the hegelian school came forth the best equipped historian the world has ever seen. save the highest quality of thought and emotion that is the prerogative of poetic genius, leopold von ranke lacked nothing of industry, of learning, of method and of talent to make him the perfect narrator of the past. it was his idea to pursue history for no purpose but its own; to tell "exactly what happened" without regard to the moral, or theological, or political lesson. thinking the most colorless presentation the best, he seldom allowed his own opinions to appear. in treating the reformation he was "first an historian and then a christian." there is in his work little biography, and that little psychological; there is no dogma and no polemic. from hegel he derived his belief in the "spirit" of the times, and nicely differentiated that of the renaissance, the reformation and the counter-reformation. he was the first to generalize the use of the word "counter-reformation"--coined in and obtaining currency later on the analogy of "counter-revolution." the causes of the reformation ranke found in "deeper religious and moral repugnance to the disorders of a merely assenting faith and service of 'works,' and, secondarily, in the assertion of the { } rights and duties residing in the state." quite rightly, he emphasized the result of the movement in breaking down the political power of the ecclesiastical state, and establishing in its stead "a completely autonomous state sovereignty, bound by no extraneous considerations and existing for itself alone." of all the ideas which have aided in the development of modern europe he esteemed this the most effective. would he have thought so after ? [sidenote: buckle] a new start in the search for fixed historical laws was made by henry thomas buckle. his point of departure was not, like that of hegel, the universal, but rather certain very particular sociological facts as interpreted by comte's positivism. because the same percentage of unaddressed letters is mailed every year, because crimes vary in a constant curve according to season, because the number of suicides and of marriages stands in a fixed ratio to the cost of bread, buckle argued that all human acts, at least in the mass, must be calculable, and reducible to general laws. at present we are concerned only with his views on the reformation. the religious opinions prevalent at any period, he pointed out, are but symptoms of the general culture of that age. protestantism was to catholicism simply as the moderate enlightenment of the sixteenth century was to the darkness of the earlier centuries. credulity and ignorance were still common, though diminishing, in luther's time, and this intellectual change was the cause of the religious change. buckle makes one strange and damaging admission, namely that though, according to his theory, or, as he puts it, "according to the natural order," the "most civilized countries should be protestant and the most uncivilized catholic [sic]," it has not always been so. in general buckle adopts the theory of the reformation { } as an uprising of the human mind, an enlightenment, and a democratic rebellion. whereas henry hallam, who wrote on the relation of the reformers to modern thought, is a belated eighteenth-century rationalist, doubtless lecky is best classified as a member of the new school. his _history of the rise and influence of the spirit of rationalism_ is partly hegelian, partly inspired by buckle. his main object is to show how little reason has to do with the adoption or rejection of any theology, and how much it is dependent on a certain spirit of the age, determined by quite other causes. he found the essence of the reformation in its conformity to then prevalent habits of mind and morals. but he thought it had done more than any other movement to emancipate the mind from superstition and to secularize society. [sidenote: protestants] it is impossible to do more than mention by name, in the short space at my command, the principal protestant apologists for the reformation, in this period. whereas ritschl gave a somewhat new aspect to the old "truths," merle d'aubigné won an enormous and unmerited success by reviving the supernatural theory of the protestant revolution, with such modern connotations and modifications as suited the still lively prejudices of the evangelical public of england and america; for it was in these countries that his book, in translation from the french, won its enormous circulation.[ ] [sidenote: döllinger] an extremely able adverse judgment of the reformation was expressed by the catholic döllinger, the most theological of historians, the most historically-minded of divines. he, too, thought luther had really { } founded a new religion, of which the center was the mystical doctrine, tending to solipsism, of justification by faith. the very fact that he said much good of luther, and approved of many of his practical reforms, made his protest the more effective. it is noticeable that when he broke with rome he did not become a protestant. [ ] the preface of the english edition of claims that whereas, since , only copies were sold in france, between , and , were sold in england and america. section . the economic and evolutionary interpretations. ( to the present) the year saw the launching of two new theories of the utmost importance. these, together with the political developments of the next twelve years, completely altered the view-point of the intellectual class, as well as of the peoples. in relation to the subject under discussion this meant a reversal of historical judgment as radical as that which occurred at the time of the french revolution. the three new influences, in the order of their immediate importance for historiography, were the following: . the publication of marx's _zur kritik der politischen Ökonomie_ in , containing the germ of the economic interpretation of history later developed in _das kapital_ ( ) and in other works. . the publication of darwin's _origin of species_, giving rise to an evolutionary treatment of history. . the bismarckian wars ( - ), followed by german intellectual and material hegemony, and the defeat of the old liberalism. this lasted only until the great war ( - ), when germany was cast down and liberalism rose in more radical guise than ever. [sidenote: marx] karl marx not only viewed history for the first time from the point of view of the proletariat, or working class, but he directly asserted that in the march of mankind the economic factors had always been, in the last analysis, decisive; that the material basis of life, { } particularly the system of production, determined, in general, the social, political and religious ideas of every epoch and of every locality. revolutions follow as the necessary consequence of economic change. in the scramble for sustenance and wealth class war is postulated as natural and ceaseless. the old hegelian antithesis of idea versus personality took the new form of "the masses" versus "the great man," both of whom were but puppets in the hands of overmastering determinism. as often interpreted, marx's theory replaced the hegelian "spirits of the time" by the classes, conceived as entities struggling for mastery. this brilliant theory suffered at first in its application, which was often hasty, or fantastic. as the economic factor had once been completely ignored, so now it was overworked. its major premise of an "economic man," all greed and calculation, is obviously false, or rather, only half true. men's motives are mixed, and so are those of aggregates of men. there are other elements in progress besides the economic ones. the only effective criticism of the theory of economic determination is that well expressed by dr. shailer mathews, that it is too simple. self-interest is one factor in history, but not the only one. [sidenote: bax] exception can be more justly taken to the way in which the theory has sometimes been applied than to its formulation. belfort bax, maintaining that the revolt from rome was largely economic in its causes, gave as one of these "the hatred of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, obviously due to its increasing exactions." luther would have produced no result had not the economic soil been ready for his seed, and with that soil prepared he achieved a world-historical result even though, in bax's opinion, his character and intellect were below those of the average english village grocer-deacon who sold sand for sugar. luther, { } in fact, did no more than give a flag to those discontented with the existing political and industrial life. strange to say, bax found even the most radical party, that of the communistic anabaptists, retrograde, with its program of return to a golden age of gild and common land. a somewhat better grounded, but still inadequate, solution of the problem was offered by karl kautsky. [sidenote: kautsky] he, too, found the chief cause of the revolt in the spoliation of germany by rome. in addition to this was the new rivalry of commercial classes. unlike bax, kautsky finds in the anabaptists socialists of whom he can thoroughly approve. the criticism that must be made of these and similar attempts, is that the causes picked out by them are too trivial. to say that the men who, by the thousands and tens of thousands suffered martyrdom for their faith, changed that faith simply because they objected to pay a tithe, reminds one of the ancient catholic derivation of the whole movement from luther's desire to marry. the effect is out of proportion to the cause. but some theorists were even more fantastic than trivial. when professor s. n. patten traces the origins of revolutions to either over-nutrition or under-nutrition, and that of the reformation to "the growth of frugalistic concepts"; when mr. brooks adams asserts that it was all due to the desire of the people for a cheaper religion, exchanging an expensive offering for justification by faith and mental anguish, which cost nothing, and an expensive church for a cheap bible--we feel that the dish of theory has run away with the spoon of fact. the climax was capped by the german sociologist friedrich simmel, who explained the reformation by the law of the operation of force along the line of least resistance. the reformers, by sending the soul straight to god, spared it the detour via the { } priest, thus short-circuiting grace, as it were, and saving energy. [sidenote: lamprecht] the genius who first and most fully worked out a tenable economic interpretation of the lutheran movement was karl lamprecht, who stands in much the same relation to marx as did ranke to hegel, to wit, that of an independent, eclectic and better informed student. lamprecht, as it is well known, divides history into periods according to their psychological character--perhaps an up-to-date hegelianism--but he maintains, and on the whole successfully, that the temper of each of these epochs is determined by their economic institutions. thus, says he, the condition of the transition from medieval to modern times was the development of a system of "money economy" from a system of "natural economy," which took place slowly throughout the th, th, th and th centuries. "the complete emergence of capitalistic tendencies, with their consequent effects on the social, and, chiefly through this, on the intellectual sphere, must of itself bring on modern times." lamprecht shows how the rise of capitalism was followed by the growth of the cities and of the culture of the renaissance in them, and how, also, individualism arose in large part as a natural consequence of the increased power and scope given to the ego by the possession of wealth. this individualism, he thinks, strengthened by and strengthening humanism, was made forever safe by the reformation. it is a momentous error, as lamprecht rightly points out, to suppose that we are living in the same era of civilization, psychologically considered, as that of luther. our subjectivism is as different from his individualism as his modernity was from medievalism. the eighteenth century was a transitional period from the one to the other. { } one of the chief characteristics of the reformation, continues lamprecht, seen first in the earlier mystics, was the change from "polydynamism," or the worship of many saints, and the mediation of manifold religious agencies, to "monodynamism" or the direct and single intercourse of the soul with god. still more different was the world-view of the nineteenth century, built on "an extra-christian, though not yet anti-christian foundation." in the very same year in which lamprecht's volume on the german reformation appeared, another interpretation, though less profound and less in the economic school of thought, was put forth by a. e. berger. [sidenote: berger] he found the four principal causes of the reformation in the growth of national self-consciousness, the overthrow of an ascetic for a secular culture, individualism, and the growth of a lay religion. the reformation itself was a triumph of conscience and of "german inwardness," and its success was due to the fact that it made of the church a purely spiritual entity. the most brilliant essay in the economic interpretation of the origins of protestantism, though an essay in a very narrow field, was that of max weber [sidenote: weber] which has made "capitalism and calvinism" one of the watchwords of contemporary thought. the intimate connection of the reformation and the merchant class had long been noticed, _e.g._ by froude and by thorold rogers. but weber was the first to ask, and to answer, the question what it was that made protestantism particularly congenial to the industrial type of civilization. in the first place, calvinism stimulated just those ethical qualities of rugged strength and self-confidence needful for worldly success. in the second place, protestantism abolished the old ascetic ideal of labor for the sake of the next world, and substituted for it the conception of a calling, that is, of doing { } faithfully the work appointed to each man in this world. indeed, the word "calling'" or "beruf," meaning god-given work, is found only in germanic languages, and is wanting in all those of the latin group. the ethical idea expressed by luther and more strongly by calvin was that of faithfully performing the daily task; in fact, such labor was inculcated as a duty to the point of pain; in other words it was "a worldly asceticism." finally, calvin looked upon thrift as a duty, and regarded prosperity, in the old testament style, as a sign of god's favor. "you may labor in that manner as tendeth most to your success and lawful gain," said the protestant divine richard baxter, "for you are bound to improve all your talents." and again, "if god show you a way in which you may lawfully get more than in another way, if you refuse this and choose the less gainful way, you cross one of the ends of your calling, and you refuse to be god's steward." it would be instructive and delightful to follow the controversy caused by weber's thesis. some scholars, like knodt, denied its validity, tracing capitalism back of the spirit of fugger rather than of calvin; but most accepted it. fine interpretations and criticisms of it were offered by cunningham, brentano, kovalewsky and ashley. so commonly has it been received that it has finally been summed up in a brilliant but superficial epigram used by chesterton, good enough to have been coined by him--though it is not, i believe, from his mint--that the reformation was "the revolution of the rich against the poor." [sidenote: darwinism] contemporary with the economic historiography, there was a new intellectual criticism reminding one superficially of the voltairean, but in reality founded far more on darwinian ideas. the older "philosophers" had blamed the reformers for not coming up to a modern standard; the new evolutionists censured { } them for falling below the standard of their own age. moreover, the critique of the new atheism was more searching than had been that of the old deism. until nietzsche, the prevailing view had been that the reformation was the child, or sister, of the renaissance, and the parent of the enlightenment and the french revolution. "we are in the midst of a gigantic movement," wrote huxley, "greater than that which preceded and produced the reformation, and really only a continuation of that movement." "the reformation," in the opinion of tolstoy, "was a rude, incidental reflection of the labor of thought, striving after the liberation of man from the darkness." "the truth is," according to symonds, "that the reformation was the teutonic renaissance. it was the emancipation of the reason on a line neglected by the italians, more important, indeed, in its political consequences, more weighty in its bearing on rationalistic developments than was the italian renaissance, but none the less an outcome of the same grand influence." william dilthey, in the nineties, labored to show that the essence of the reformation was the same in the religious fields as that of the best thought contemporary to it in other lines. [sidenote: nietzsche] but these ideas were already obsolescent since friedrich nietzsche had worked out, with some care, the thought that "the reformation was a re-action of old-fashioned minds, against the italian renaissance." one might suppose that this furious antichrist, as he wished to be, would have thought well of luther because of his opinion that the saxon first taught the germans to be unchristian, and because "luther's merit is greater in nothing than that he had the courage of his sensuality--then called, gently enough, 'evangelic liberty.'" but no! with frantic passion nietzsche charged: "the reformation, a duplication { } of the medieval spirit at a time when this spirit no longer had a good conscience, pullulated sects, and superstitions like the witchcraft craze." german culture was just ready to burst into full bloom, only one night more was needed, but that night brought the storm that ruined all. the reformation was the peasants' revolt of the human spirit, a rising full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing. it was "the rage of the simple against the complex, a rough, honest misunderstanding, in which (to speak mildly) much must be forgiven." luther unraveled and tore apart a culture he did not appreciate and an authority he did not relish. behind the formula "every man his own priest" lurked nothing but the abysmal hatred of the low for the higher; the truly plebeian spirit at its worst. [sidenote: acceptance of nietzsche's opinion] quite slowly but surely nietzsche's opinion gained ground until one may say that it was, not long ago, generally accepted. "our sympathies are more in unison, our reason less shocked by the arguments and doctrines of sadolet than by those of calvin," wrote r. c. christie. andrew d. white's popular study of _the warfare of science and theology_ proved that protestant churches had been no less hostile to intellectual progress than had the catholic church. "the reformation, in fact," opined j. m. robertson, "speedily overclouded with fanaticism what new light of free thought had been glimmering before, turning into bibliolaters those who had rationally doubted some of the catholic mysteries and forcing back into catholic bigotry those more refined spirits who, like sir thomas more, had been in advance of their age." "before the lutheran revolt," said henry c. lea, "much freedom of thought and speech was allowed in catholic europe, but not after." similar opinions might be collected in large number; i { } mention only the works of bezold and the brief but admirably expressed articles of professor george l. burr, and that of lemonnier, who places in a strong light the battle of the renaissance, intellectual, indifferent in religion and politics, but aristocratic in temper, and the reformation, reactionary, religious, preoccupied with medieval questions and turning, in its hostility to the governing orders, to popular politics. the reaction of the reformation on religion was noticed by the critics, who thus came to agree with the conservative estimate, though they deplored what the others had rejoiced in. long before nietzsche, j. burckhardt had pointed out that the greatest danger to the papacy, secularization, had been adjourned for centuries by the german reformation. it was this that roused the papacy from the soulless debasement in which it lay; it was thus that the moral salvation of the papacy was due to its mortal enemies. [sidenote: troeltsch] the twentieth century has seen two brilliant critiques of the reformation from the intellectual side by scholars of consummate ability, ernst troeltsch and george santayana. the former begins by pointing out, with a fineness never surpassed, the essential oneness and slight differences between early protestantism and catholicism. the reformers asked the same questions as did the medieval schoolmen and, though they gave these questions somewhat different answers, their minds, like those of other men, revealed themselves far more characteristically in the asking than in the reply. "genuine early protestantism . . . was an authoritative ecclesiastical civilization (kirchliche zwangskultur), a claim to regulate state and society, science and education, law, commerce, and industry, according to the supernatural standpoint of revelation." the reformers separated early and with cruel violence from the humanistic, philological, and philosophical { } theology of erasmus because they were conscious of an essential opposition. luther's sole concern was with assurance of salvation, and this could only be won at the cost of a miracle, not any longer the old, outward magic of saints and priestcraft, but the wonder of faith occurring in the inmost center of personal life. "the sensuous sacramental miracle is done away, and in its stead appears the miracle of faith, that man, in his sin and weakness, can grasp and confidently assent to such a thought." thus it came about that the way of salvation became more important than the goal, and the tyranny of dogma became at last unbearable. troeltsch characterizes both his own position and that of the reformers when he enumerates among the ancient dogmas taken over naïvely by luther, that of the existence of a personal, ethical god. finely contrasting the ideals of renaissance and reformation, [sidenote: renaissance vs. reformation] he shows that the former was naturalism, the latter an intensification of religion and of a convinced other-worldliness, that while the ethic of the former was based on "affirmation of life," that of the latter was based on "calling." even as compared with catholicism, troeltsch thinks, supererogatory works were abolished because each protestant christian was bound to exert himself to the utmost at all times. the learned professor hazards the further opinion that the spirit of the renaissance amalgamated better with catholicism and, after a period of quiescence, burst forth in the "frightful explosion" of the enlightenment and revolution, both more radical in catholic countries than in protestant. but troeltsch is too historically-minded to see in the reformation only a reaction. he believes that it contributed to the formation of the modern world by the development of nationalism, individualism (qualified by the objectively conceived sanction of bible and christian community), moral health, and, { } indirectly, by the introduction of the ideas of tolerance, criticism, and religious progress. moreover, it enriched the world with the story of great personalities. protestantism was better able to absorb modern elements of political, social, scientific, artistic and economic content, not because it was professedly more open to them, but because it was weakened by the memory of one great revolt from authority. but the great change in religion as in other matters came, troeltsch is fully convinced, in the eighteenth century. [sidenote: santayana] if troeltsch has the head of a skeptic with the heart of a protestant, santayana's equally irreligious brain is biased by a sentimental sympathy for the catholicism in which he was trained. the essence of his criticism of luther, than whom, he once scornfully remarked, no one could be more unintelligent, is that he moved away from the ideal of the gospel. saint francis, like jesus, was unworldly, disenchanted, ascetic; protestantism is remote from this spirit, for it is convinced of the importance of success and prosperity, abominates the disreputable, thinks of contemplation as idleness, of solitude as selfishness, of poverty as a punishment, and of married and industrial life as typically godly. in short, it is a reversion to german heathendom. but santayana denies that luther prevented the euthanasia of christianity, for there would have been, he affirms, a catholic revival without him. with all its old-fashioned insistence that dogma was scientifically true and that salvation was urgent and fearfully doubtful, protestantism broke down the authority of christianity, for "it is suicidal to make one part of an organic system the instrument for attacking the other part." it is the beauty and torment of protestantism that it leads to something ever beyond its ken, finally landing its adherent in a pious skepticism. under the solvent of self-criticism { } german religion and philosophy have dropped, one by one, all supernaturalism and comforting private hopes and have become absorbed in the duty of living manfully the conventional life of the world. positive religion and frivolity both disappear, and only "consecrated worldliness" remains. some support to the old idea that the reformation was a progressive movement has been recently offered by eminent scholars. [sidenote: recent opinions] g. monod says that the difference between catholicism and protestantism is that the former created a closed philosophy, the latter left much open. "the reformation," according to h. a. l. fisher, "was the great dissolvent of european conservatism. a religion which had been accepted with little question for years, which had dominated european thought, moulded european customs, shaped no small part of private law and public policy . . . was suddenly and sharply questioned in all the progressive communities of the west." bertrand russell thinks that, while the renaissance undermined the medieval theory of authority in a few choice minds, the reformation made the first really serious breach in that theory. it is just because the fight for liberty (which he hardly differentiates from anarchism) began in the religious field, that its triumph is now most complete in that field. we are still bound politically and economically; that we are free religiously is due to luther. it is an evil, however, in mr. russell's opinion, that subjectivism has been fostered in protestant morality. a similar opinion, in the most attenuated form, has been expressed by salomon reinach. "instead of freedom of faith and thought the reformation produced a kind of attenuated catholicism. but the seeds of religious liberty were there, though it was only after two centuries that they blossomed and bore fruit, { } thanks to the breach made by luther in the ancient edifice of rome." [sidenote: german nationalists] a judicious estimate is offered by imbart de la tour, to the effect that, though the logical result of some of luther's premises would have been individual religion and autonomy of conscience, as actually worked out, "his mystical doctrine of inner inspiration has no resemblance whatever to our subjectivism." his true originality was his personality which imposed on an optimistic society a pessimistic world-view. it is true that the revolution was profound and yet it was not modern: "the classic spirit, free institutions, democratic ideals, all these great forces by which we live are not the heritage of luther." as the wave of nationalism and militarism swept over europe with the bismarckian wars, men began to judge the reformation as everything else by its relation, real or fancied, to racial superiority or power. even in germany scholars were not at all clear as to exactly what this relation was. paul de lagarde idealized the middle ages as showing the perfect expression of german character and he detested "the coarse, scolding luther, who never saw further than his two hobnailed shoes, and who by his demagogy, brought in barbarism and split germany into fragments." nevertheless even he saw, at times, that the reformation meant a triumph of nationalism, and found it significant that the basques, who were not a nation, should have produced, in loyola and xavier, the two greatest champions of the anti-national church. the tide soon started flowing the other way and scholars began to see clearly that in some sort the reformation was a triumph of "deutschtum" against the "romanitas" of latin religion and culture. treitschke, as the representative of this school, trumpeted forth that "the reformation arose from the good { } german conscience," and that, "the reformer of our church was the pioneer of the whole german nation on the road to a freer civilization." the dogma that might makes right was adopted at berlin--as acton wrote in --and the mere fact that the reformation was successful was accounted a proof of its rightness by historians like waitz and kurtz. naturally, all was not as bad as this. a rather attractive form of the thesis was presented by karl sell. whereas, he thinks, protestantism has died, or is dying, as a religion, it still exists as a mood, as bibliolatry, as a national and political cult, as a scientific and technical motive-power, and, last but not least, as the ethos and pathos of the germanic peoples. [sidenote: the great war] in the great war luther was mobilized as one of the german national assets. professor gustav kawerau and many others appealed to the reformer's writings for inspiration and justification of their cause; and the german infantry sang "ein' feste burg" while marching to battle. even outside of germany the war of meant, in many quarters, the defeat of the old liberalism and the rise of a new school inclined, even in america--witness mahan--to see in armed force rather than in intellectual and moral ideas the decisive factors in history. many scholars noticed, in this connection, the shift of power from the catholic nations, led by france, to the protestant peoples, germany, england and america. some, like acton, though impressed by it, did not draw the conclusion ably presented by a belgian, emile de laveleye, that the cause of national superiority lay in protestantism, but it doubtless had a wide influence, partly unconscious, on the verdict of history. [sidenote: reaction against german ideals] but the recoil was far greater than the first movement. paul sabatier wrote (in ) that until protestantism had enjoyed the esteem of thoughtful { } men on account of its good sense, domestic and civic virtues and its openness to science and literary criticism. this high opinion, strengthened by the prestige of german thought, was shattered, says our authority, by the results of the franco-prussian war, its train of horrors, and the consequences to the victors, who raved of their superiority and attributed to luther the result of sedan. the great war loosed the tongues of all enemies of luther. "literary and philosophic germany," said denys cochin in an interview, "prepared the evolution of the state and the cult of might. . . . the haughty and aristocratic reform of luther both prepared and seconded the aberration." [sidenote: paquier] paquier has written a book around the thesis: "nothing in the present war would have been alien to luther, for like all germans of to-day, he was violent and faithless. the theory of nietzsche is monstrous, but it is the logical conclusion of the religious revolution accomplished by luther and of the philosophical revolution accomplished by kant." he finds the causal nexus between luther and hindenburg in two important doctrines and several corollaries. first, the doctrine of justification by faith meant the disparagement of morality and the exaltation of the end at the expense of the means. secondly, luther deified the state. finally, in his narrow patriotism, luther is thought to have inspired the reckless deeds of his posterity. on the other hand some french protestants, notably weiss, have sought to show that the modern doctrines of prussia were not due to luther but were an apostasy from him. practically all the older methods of interpreting the reformation have survived to the present; to save space they must be noticed with the utmost brevity. { } [sidenote: protestants] the protestant scholars of the last sixty years have all, as far as they are worthy of serious notice, escaped from the crudely supernaturalistic point of view. their temptation is now, in proportion as they are conservative, to read into the reformation ideas of their own. harnack [sidenote: harnack] sees in luther, as he does in christ and paul and all other of his heroes, exactly his own german liberal evangelical mind. he is inclined to admit that luther was little help to the progress of science and enlightenment, that he did not absorb the cultural elements of his time nor recognize the right and duty of free research, but yet he thinks the reformation more important than any other revolution since paul simply because it restored the true, _i.e._ pauline and harnackian theology. loisy's criticism of him is brilliant: "what would luther have thought had his doctrine of salvation by faith been presented to him with the amendment 'independently of beliefs,' or with this amendment, 'faith in the merciful father, for faith in the son is foreign to the gospel of jesus'?" the same treatment of mohammedanism, as that accorded by harnack to christianity would, as loisy remarks, deduce from it the same humanitarian deism as that now fashionable at berlin. i should like to speak of the work of below and wernle, of böhmer and köhler, of fisher and walker and mcgiffert, and of many other protestant scholars, by which i have profited. but i can only mention one other protestant tendency, that of some liberals who find the reformation (quite naturally) too conservative for them. laurent wrote in this sense in - , and he was followed by one of the most thoughtful of protestant apologists, charles beard. [sidenote: beard] beard saw in the reformation the subjective form of religion over against the objectivity of catholicism, and also, "the first great triumph of the scientific spirit"--the { } renaissance, in fact, applied to theology. and yet he found its work so imperfect and even hampering at the time he wrote ( ) that the chief purpose of his book was to advocate a new reformation to bring christianity in complete harmony with science. [sidenote: philosophers] several philosophers have, more from tradition than creed, adopted the protestant standpoint. eucken thinks that "the reformation became the animating soul of the modern world, the principle motive-force of its progress. . . . in truth, every phase of modern life not directly or indirectly connected with the reformation has something insipid and paltry about it." windelband believes that the reformation arose from mysticism but conquered only by the power of the state, and that the stamp of the conflict between the inner grace and the outward support is of the _esse_ of protestanism. william james was also in warm sympathy with luther who, he thought, "in his immense, manly way . . . stretched the soul's imagination and saved theology from puerility." james added that the reformer also invented a morality, as new as romantic love in literature, founded on a religious experience of despair breaking through the old, pagan pride. [sidenote: catholics] while many catholics, among them maurenbrecher and gasquet, labored fruitfully in the field of the reformation by uncovering new facts, few or none of them had much new light to cast on the philosophy of the period. janssen [sidenote: janssen] brought to its perfection a new method applied to a new field; the field was that of _kulturgeschichte_, the method that of letting the sources speak for themselves, but naturally only those sources agreeable to the author's bias. in this way he represented the fifteenth century as the great blossoming of the german mind, and the reformation as a blighting frost to both culture and morality. pastor's [sidenote: pastor] work, though dense with fresh knowledge, offers no connected { } theory. the reformation, he thinks, was a shock without parallel, involving all sides of life, but chiefly the religious. it was due in germany to a union of the learned classes and the common people; in england to the caprice of an autocrat. from the learned uproar of denifle's school emerges the explanation of the revolt as the "great sewer" which carried off from the church all the refuse and garbage of the time. grisar's far finer psychology--characteristically jesuit--tries to cast on luther the origin of the present destructive subjectivism. grisar's proof that "the modern infidel theology" of germany bases itself in an exaggerated way on the luther of the first period, is suggestive. [sidenote: acton] though the reformation was one of lord acton's favorite topics, i cannot find on that subject any new or fruitful thought at all in proportion to his vast learning. his theory of the reformation is therefore the old catholic one, stripped of supernaturalism, that it was merely the product of the wickedness and vagaries of a few gifted demagogues, and the almost equally blamable obstinacy of a few popes. he thought the english bishop creighton too easy in his judgment of the popes, adding, "my dogma is not the special wickedness of my own spiritual superiors, but the general wickedness of men in authority--of luther and zwingli and calvin and cranmer and knox, of mary stuart and henry viii, of philip ii and elizabeth, of cromwell and louis xiv, james and charles, william, bossuet and ken." acton dated modern times from the turn of the th and th centuries, believing that the fundamental characteristic of the period is the belief in conscience as the voice of god. he says, that "luther at worms is the most pregnant and momentous fact in our history," but he confesses himself baffled by the problem, which is, to his mind, why luther did not return to the church. luther, alleges acton, gave up { } all the doctrines commonly insisted on as crucial and, then or later, dropped predestination, and admitted the necessity of good works, the freedom of the will, the hierarchical constitution, the authority of tradition, the seven sacraments, the latin mass. in fact, says acton, the one bar to his return to the church was his belief that the pope was antichrist. it is notable that none of the free minds starting from catholicism have been attracted to the protestant camp. renan prophesied that st. paul and protestantism were coming to the end of their reign. paul sabatier carefully proved that the modernists owed nothing to luther, and their greatest scholar, loisy, succinctly put the case in the remark, "we are done with partial heresies." [sidenote: anglicans] the anglicans have joined the romanists to denounce as heretics those who rebelled against the church which still calls anglicans heretics. neville figgis, having snatched from treitschke the juxtaposition "luther and machiavelli," has labored to build up around it a theory by which these two men shall appear as the chief supports of absolutism and "divine right of kings." figgis thinks that with the reformation religion was merely the "performance for passing entertainment," but that the state was the "eternal treasure." a far more judicious and unprejudiced discussion of the same thesis is offered in the works of professor a. f. pollard. he sees both sides of the medal for, if religion had become a subject of politics, politics had become matter of religion. he thinks the english reformation was primarily a revolt of the laity against the clergy. [sidenote: other schools] the liberal estimate of the reformation fashionable a hundred years ago has also been revived in an elaborate work of mackinnon, and is assumed in obiter dicta by such eminent historians as a. w. benn, { } e. p. cheyney, c. borgeaud, h. l. osgood and woodrow wilson. finally, professor j. h. robinson has improved the old political interpretation current among the secular historians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. the essence of the lutheran movement he finds in the revolt from the roman ecclesiastical state. section . concluding estimate the reader will expect me, after having given some account of the estimates of others, to make an evaluation of my own. of course no view can be final; mine, like that of everyone else, is the expression of an age and an environment as well as that of an individual. [sidenote: causes of the reformation] the reformation, like the renaissance and the sixteenth-century social revolution, was but the consequence of the operation of antecedent changes in environment and habit, intellectual and economic. there was the widening and deepening of knowledge, due in one aspect to the invention of printing, in the other to the geographical and historical discoveries of the fifteenth century and the consequent adumbration of the idea of natural law. even in the later schoolmen, like biel and occam, still more in the humanists, one finds a much stronger rationalism than in the representative thinkers of the middle ages. the general economic antecedent was the growth in wealth and the change in the system of production from gild and barter to that of money and wages. this produced three secondary results, which in turn operated as causes: the rise of the moneyed class, individualism, and nationalism. all these tendencies, operating in three fields, the religious, the political and the intellectual, produced the reformation and its sisters, the renaissance and the social revolution of the sixteenth century. the reformation--including in that term both the protestant movement and the catholic reaction--partly occupied { } all these fields, but did not monopolize any of them. there were some religious, or anti-religious, movements outside the reformation, and the lutheran impulse swept into its own domain large tracts of the intellectual and political fields, primarily occupied by renaissance and revolution. [sidenote: religious aspect] ( ) the _gêne_ felt by many secular historians in the treatment of religion is now giving way to the double conviction of the importance of the subject and of its susceptibility to scientific study. religion in human life is not a subject apart, nor is it necessary to regard all theological revolts as obscurantist. as a rationalist[ ] has remarked, it is usually priests who have freed mankind from taboos and superstitions. indeed, in a religious age, no effective attack on the existing church is possible save one inspired by piety. [sidenote: parallels to the reformation] many instructive parallels to the reformation can be found both in christian history and in that of other religions; they all markedly show the same consequences of the same causes. the publication of christianity, with its propaganda of monotheism against the roman world and its accentuation of faith against the ceremonialism of the jewish church, resembled that of luther's "gospel." marcion with his message of pauline faith and his criticism of the bible, was a second-century reformer. the iconoclasm and nationalism of the emperor leo furnish striking similarities to the protestant revolt. the movements started by the medieval mystics and still more by the heretics wyclif and huss, rehearsed the religious drama of the sixteenth century. many revivals in the protestant church, such as methodism, were, like the original movement, returns to personal piety and biblicism. the old catholic schism in its repudiation of the papal supremacy, and even modernism, notwithstanding its { } disclaimers, are animated in part by the same motives as those inspiring the reformers. in judaism the sadducees, in their bibliolatry and in their opposition to the traditions dear to the pharisees, were protestants; a later counterpart of the same thing is found in the reform the karaites by anan ben david. mohammed has been a favorite subject for comparison with luther by the catholics, but in truth, in no disparaging sense, the proclamation of islam, with its monotheism, emphasis on faith and predestination, was very like the reformation, and so were several later reforms within mohammedanism, including two in the sixteenth century. many parallels could doubtless be adduced from the heathen religions, perhaps the most striking is the foundation of sikhism by luther's contemporary nanak, who preached monotheism and revolted from the ancient ceremonial and hierarchy of caste. what is the etiology of religious revolution? the principal law governing it is that any marked change either in scientific knowledge or in ethical feeling necessitates a corresponding alteration in the faith. all the great religious innovations of luther and his followers can be explained as an attempt to readjust faith to the new culture, partly intellectual, partly social, that had gradually developed during the later middle ages. [sidenote: faith vs. works] the first shift, and the most important, was that from salvation by works to salvation by faith only. the catholic dogma is that salvation is dependent on certain sacraments, grace being bestowed automatically (_ex opere operato_) on all who participate in the celebration of the rite without actively opposing its effect. luther not only reduced the number of sacraments but he entirely changed their character. not they, but the faith of the participant mattered, and { } this faith was bestowed freely by god, or not at all. in this innovation one primary cause was the individualism of the age; the sense of the worth of the soul or, if one pleases, of the ego. this did not mean subjectivism, or religious autonomy, for the reformers held passionately to an ideal of objective truth, but it did mean that every soul had the right to make its personal account with god, without mediation of priest or sacrament. another element in this new dogma was the simpler, and yet more profound, psychology of the new age. the shift of emphasis from the outer to the inner is traceable from the earliest age to the present, from the time when homer delighted to tell of the good blows struck in fight to the time when fiction is but the story of an inner, spiritual struggle. the reformation was one phase in this long process from the external to the internal. the debit and credit balance of outward work and merit was done away, and for it was substituted the nobler, or at least more spiritual and less mechanical, idea of disinterested morality and unconditioned salvation. the god of calvin may have been a tyrant, but he was not corruptible by bribes. we are so much accustomed to think of dogma as the _esse_ of religion that it is hard for us to do justice to the importance of this change. really, it is not dogma so much as rite and custom that is fundamental. the sacramental habit of mind was common to medieval christianity and to most primitive religions. for the first time luther substituted for the sacramental habit, or attitude, its antithesis, an almost purely ethical criterion of faith. the transcendental philosophy and the categorical imperative lay implicit in the famous _sola fide_. [sidenote: monism] the second great change made by protestantism was more intellectual, that from a pluralistic to a monistic { } standpoint. far from the conception of natural law, the early protestants did little or nothing to rationalize, or explain away, the creeds of the catholics, but they had arrived at a sufficiently monistic philosophy to find scandal in the worship of the saints, with its attendant train of daily and trivial miracles. to sweep away the vast hierarchy of angels and canonized persons that made catholicism quasi-polytheistic, and to preach pure monotheism was in the spirit of the time and is a phenomenon for which many parallels can be found. instructive is the analogy of the contemporary trend to absolutism; neither god nor king any longer needed intermediaries. [sidenote: political and economic aspects] ( ) in two aspects the reformation was the religious expression of the current political and economic change. in the first place it reflected and reacted upon the growing national self-consciousness, particularly of the teutonic peoples. [sidenote: nationalism and teutonism] the revolt from rome was in the interests of the state church, and also of germanic culture. the break-up of the roman church at the hands of the northern peoples is strikingly like the break-up of the roman empire under pressure from their ancestors. indeed, the limits of the roman church practically coincided with the boundaries of the empire. the apparent exception of england proves the rule, for in britain the roman civilization was swept away by the german invasions of the fifth and following centuries. that the reformation strengthened the state was inevitable, for there was no practical alternative to putting the final authority in spiritual matters, after the pope had been ejected, into the hands of the civil government. congregationalism was tried and failed as tending to anarchy. but how little the reformation was really responsible for the new despotism and the divine right of kings, is clear from a comparison with { } the greek church and the turkish empire. in both, the same forces which produced the state churches of western europe operated in the same way. selim i, a bigoted sunnite, after putting down the shi'ite heresy, induced the last caliph of the abbasid dynasty to surrender the sword and mantle of the prophet; thereafter he and his successors were caliphs as well as sultans. in russia ivan the terrible made himself, in , head of the national church. [sidenote: capitalism] protestantism also harmonized with the capitalistic revolution in that its ethics are, far more than those of catholicism, oriented by a reference to this world. the old monastic ideal of celibacy, solitude, mortification of the flesh, prayer and meditation, melted under the sun of a new prosperity. in its light men began to realize the ethical value of this life, of marriage, of children, of daily labor and of success and prosperity. it was just in this work that protestantism came to see its chance of serving god and one's neighbor best. the man at the plough, the maid with the broom, said luther, are doing god better service than does the praying, self-tormenting monk. moreover, the accentuation of the virtues of thrift and industry, which made capitalism and calvinism allies, but reflected the standards natural to the bourgeois class. it was by the might of the merchants and their money that the reformation triumphed; conversely they benefited both by the spoils of the church and by the abolition of a privileged class. luther stated that there was no difference between priest and layman; some men were called to preach, others to make shoes, but--and this is his own illustration--the one vocation is no more spiritual than the other. no longer necessary as a mediator and dispenser of sacramental grace, the protestant clergyman sank inevitably to the same level as his neighbors. { } [sidenote: intellectual aspect] ( ) in its relation to the renaissance and to modern thought the reformation solved, in its way, two problems, or one problem, that of authority, in two forms. though anything but consciously rational in their purpose, the innovating leaders did assert, at least for themselves, the right of private judgment. appealing from indulgence-seller to pope, from pope to council, from council to the bible and (in luther's own words) from the bible to christ, [sidenote: individualism] the reformers finally came to their own conscience as the supreme court. trying to deny to others the very rights they had fought to secure for themselves, yet their example operated more powerfully than their arguments, even when these were made of ropes and of thumb-screws. the delicate balance of faith was overthrown and it was put into a condition of unstable equilibrium; the avalanche, started by ever so gentle a push, swept onward until it buried the men who tried to stop it half way. dogma slowly narrowing down from precedent to precedent had its logical, though unintended, outcome in complete religious autonomy, yes, in infidelity and skepticism. [sidenote: vulgarization of the renaissance] protestantism has been represented now as the ally, now as the enemy of humanism. consciously it was neither. rather, it was the vulgarization of the renaissance; it transformed, adapted, and popularized many of the ideas originated by its rival. it is easy to see now that the future lay rather outside of both churches than in either of them, if we look only for direct descent. columbus burst the bounds of the world, copernicus those of the universe; luther only broke his vows. but the point is that the repudiation of religious vows was the hardest to do at that time, a feat infinitely more impressive to the masses than either of the former. it was just here that the religious movement became a great solvent of conservatism; it made the masses think, passionately if not { } deeply, on their own beliefs. it broke the cake of custom and made way for greater emancipations than its own. it was the logic of events that, whereas the renaissance gave freedom of thought to the cultivated few, the reformation finally resulted in tolerance for the masses. logically also, even while it feared and hated philosophy in the great thinkers and scientists, it advocated education, up to a certain point, for the masses. [sidenote: the reformation a step forward] in summary, if the reformation is judged with historical imagination, it docs not appear to be primarily a reaction. that it should be such is both _a priori_ improbable and unsupported by the facts. the reformation did not give _our_ answer to the many problems it was called upon to face; nevertheless it gave the solution demanded and accepted by the time, and therefore historically the valid solution. with all its limitations it was, fundamentally, a step forward and not the return to an earlier standpoint, either to that of primitive christianity, as the reformers themselves claimed, or to the dark ages, as has been latterly asserted. [ ] s. reinach: _cultes, mythes et religions_, iv, . { } bibliography preliminary . unpublished sources. the amount of important unpublished documents on the reformation, though still large, is much smaller than that of printed sources, and the value of these manuscripts is less than that of those which have been published. it is no purpose of this bibliography to furnish a guide to archives. though the quantity of unpublished material that i have used has been small, it has proved unexpectedly rich. in order to avoid repetition in each following chapter, i will here summarize manuscript material used (most of it for the first time), which is either still unpublished or is in course of publication by myself. see _luther's correspondence_, transl. and ed. by preserved smith and c. m. jacobs, ff; _english historical review_, july ; _scottish historical review_, jan. ; _harvard theological review_, april ; _the n. y. nation_, various dates . from the bodleian library, i have secured a copy of an unpublished letter and other fragments of luther, press mark, montagu d. , fol. , and auct. z. ii, . from the british museum i have had diplomatic correspondence of robert barnes, cotton mss., vitellius b xxi, foil. ff.; a letter of albinianus tretius to luther, add. ms. , , fol. b ff; and a portion of john foxe's _collection of letters and papers_, harleian ms , fol. . from the pennsylvania historical society, philadelphia, collection of autographs made by ferdinand j. dreer, unpublished and hitherto unused letters of erasmus, james vi of scotland ( ), leo x, hedio, farel to calvin, forster, melanchthon, charles v, albrecht of mansfeld, henry viii, francis i ( ), catherine de' medici, grynaeus, viglius van zuichem, alphonso d'este, philip marnix, camden, tasso, machiavelli, pius iv, vassari, borromeo, alesandro ottavio de' medici (afterwards leo xi), clement viii, sarpi, emperor ferdinand, william of nassau ( ), maximilian iii, paul eber ( ), rudolph ii, henry iii, philip ii, emanuel philibert, henry iv, scaliger, mary queen of scots, robert dudley (leicester), filippo strozzi, and others. from wellesley college a patent of charles v., dated worms, march , , granting mining rights to the count of belalcazar. unpublished. prom the american hispanic society of new york unpublished letter of henry iv of france to du font, on his conversion, and letter of henry vii of england to ferdinand of aragon. . general works _encyclopaedia britannica_.[ ] - . (many valuable articles of a thoroughly scientific character). _the new international encyclopaedia_, f. (equally valuable). _realencyklopädie für protestantische theologie und kirche_.[ ] vols. leipzig. - . (indispensable to the student of church history; the schaff-herzog encyclopedia of religions knowledge, vols., ff, though in part based on this, is far less valuable for the present subject). wetzer und welte: _kirchenlexikon oder encyclopädie der katholischen theologie und ihrer hülfswissenschaften_. zweite auflage von j. card. hergenröther und f. kaulen. freiburg im breisgau. - . vols. (valuable). _die religion in geschichte und gegenwart_, hg. von h. gunkel, o. scheel, f. m. schiele. vols. - . _the cambridge modern history_, planned by lord acton, edited by a. w. ward, g. w. prothero, stanley leathes. london and new york. ff. vol. . _the renaissance_. . vol. . _the reformation_. . vol. . _the wars of religion_. . vol. . _tables and index_. . vol. . _maps_. . (a standard co-operative work, with full bibliographies). _weltgeschichte, hg.v.j. von pflugk-harttung: das religiöse zeitalter_, - . berlin. . (a co-operative work, written by masters of their subjects in popular style. profusely illustrated). e. lavisse et a. rambaud: _histoire générale du ive siècle à nos jours. tome iv renaissance et réforme, les nouveaux mondes - _. . tome v. _les guerres de religion - _. . r. l. poole: _historical atlas of modern europe_. . w. r. shepherd: _historical atlas_. . ramsay muir: _hammond's new historical atlas for students_. . a list of general histories of the reformation will be found in the bibliography to the last chapter. an excellent introduction to the bibliography of the public documents of all countries will be found in the _encyclopaedia britannica_, s.v. "record." chapter i. the old and the new section . _the world_ on economic changes see bibliography to chapter xi; on exploration, chapter ix; on universities, chapter xiii, . on printing: j. janssen: _a history of the german people from the close of the middle ages_, transl. by m. a. mitchell and a. m. christie. d english ed. volumes. - . a. w. pollard: _fine books_. . t. l. de vinne: _the invention of printing_. . veröffentlichungen der gutenberg-gesellschaft. ff. h. meisner und j. luther: _die erfindung der buchdruckerkunst_. . article "typography" in encyclopedia britannica. (the author defends the now untenable thesis that printing originated in holland, though the numerous and valuable data given by himself point clearly to mayence as the cradle of the art). sections and . _the church, causes of the reformation_ sources. c. mirbt: _quellen sur geschichte des papsttums und der römischen katholizismus_.[ ] . (convenient and scholarly; indispensable to any one who has not a large library at command). _the missal_, compiled from the missale romanum. . _the priest's new ritual_, compiled by p. griffith. . (the rites of the roman church, except the mass, partly in latin, partly in english). _the catechism of the council of trent_, translated into english by j. donovan. . _corpus juris canonici_, post curas a. l. richteri instruxit aemilius friedberg. vols. - . _codex juris canonici_, pii x jussu digestus, benedicti xv auctoritate promulgatus. . thomas aquinas: _summa theologiae_. many editions; the best, with a commentary by cardinal cajetan ( - ) in _opera omnia, iussu impensaque leonis xiii pp_. vols. - . ff. _the summa theologica of st. thomas aquinas_, translated by the fathers of the english dominican province. ff. (in course of publication, as yet, vols). von der hardt: _magnum oecumenicum constantiense concilium_. vols. . d. mansi: _conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio_. vols. - . venice. ff. (identical reprint, paris, ). most of the best literature of the th and th centuries, e.g., the works of chaucer, langland, boccaccio and petrach [transcriber's note: petrarch?]. special works of ecclesiastical writers, humanists, nationalists and heretics quoted below. v. hasak: _der christliche glaube des deutschen volkes beim schlusse des mittelalters_. . (a collection of works of popular edification prior to luther). g. berbig: "_die erste kursächsische visitation im ortland franken_." _archiv für reformationsgeschichte_, iii. - ; iv. - . - . treatises. e. friedberg: _lehrbuch des katholischen und evangelischen kirchenrechts_.[ ] leipzig. . l. pastor: _history of the popes from the close of the middle ages_. english translation,[ ] vols. - edited by antrobus, vols. - edited by r. kerr. ff. (exhaustive, brilliantly written, catholic, a little one-sided). mandel creighton: _a history of the papacy - _. vols. ff. (good, but in large part superseded by pastor). f. gregorovius: _a history of rome in the middle ages_, translated by a. hamilton. vols and . . (brilliant). _schaff's history of the christian church_. vol. , part . the middle ages. - , by d. s. schaff. . (a scholarly summary, warmly protestant). j. schnitzer: _quellen und forschungen zur geschichte savonarolas_. vols. - . j. schnitzer: _savonarola im streite mit seinem orden und seinem kloster_. . h. lucas: _fra girolamo savonarola_.[ ] . h. c. lea: _an historical sketch of sacerdotal celibacy_.[ ] vols. . (lea's valuable works evince a marvelously wide reading in the sources, but are slightly marred by an insufficient use of modern scholarship). h. c. lea: _a history of auricular confession and indulgences in the latin church_. vols. . aloys schulte: _die fugger in rom, - _. vols. leipzig. . (describes the financial methods of the church. the second volume consists of documents). e. rodocanachi: _rome au temps de jules ii et de léon x_. . h. böhmer: _luthers romfahrt_. . (the latter part of this work gives a dark picture of the corruption of rome at the beginning of the th century). section . _the mystics_ sources. w. r. inge: _life, light and love_. . (selections from eckart, tauler, suso, ruysbroeck, etc.). h. denifle: "_m. eckeharts lateinische schriften und die grundanschauung seiner lehre_." _archiv für literaturund sprachgeschichte_. ii. - . _meister eckeharts schriften und predigten aus dem mittelhochdeutschen_ übersetzt von h. buttner. vols. . _h. seuses deutsche schriften_ übertragen von w. lehmann. vols. . _j. taulers predigten_, übertragen von w. lehmann. vols. . thomas à kempis: _imitatio christi_. (so many editions and translations of this celebrated work that it is hardly necessary to specify one). _the german theology_, translated by susannah winkworth. . treatises. kuno francke: "_medieval german mysticism_." _harvard theological review_, jan., . g. siedel: _die mystik taulers_. . m. windstosser: _Étude sur la 'théologie germanique.'_ . w. preger: _geschichte der deutschen mystik im mittelalter_. vols. - . _history and life of the rev. john tauler, with sermons_, translated by susannah winkworth. . m. maeterlinck: _ruysbroeck and the mystics_, with selections from ruysbroeck, translated by j. t. stoddard. . j. e. g. de montmorency: _thomas à kempis, his age and his book_. . a. r. burr: _religious confessions and confessants_. . (the best psychological study of mysticism). section . _pre-reformers_ sources. _j. wyclif's select english works_, ed. by t. arnold. - . vols. _j. wyclif's english works hitherto unprinted_, ed. f. matthew. . f. palacky: _documenta magistri j. hus_. . _the letters of john huss_, translated by h. b. workman and r. m. pope. . wyclif's latin works have been edited in many volumes by the wyclif society of london, the last volume being the _opera minora_, . john huss: _the church_, translated by d. s. schaff. . treatises. h. c. lea: _a history of the inquisition in the middle ages_. vols. . g. m. trevelyan: _england in the age of wyclif_[ ]. . f. a. gasquet: _the eve of the reformation_[ ]. . f. palacky: geschichte von böhmen.[ ] ff. vols. j. h. wylie: _the council of constance to the death of john hus_. . h. b. workman: _the dawn of the reformation_. the age of hus. . count f. lützow: _the hussite wars_. . count f. lützow: _the life and times of master john hus_. . d. s. schaff: _the life of john hus_. . section . _nationalizing the churches_ most of the bibliography in this chapter is given below, in the chapters on germany, england and france. freher et struvius. _rerum german icarum scriptores_. ( .) pp. - : "gravamina germanicae nationis . . . ad caesarem maximilianum contra sedem romanam." c. g. f. walch: _monumenta medii aevi_. ( .) pp. - . "gravamina nationis germanicae adversus curiam romanam, tempore nicolai v papae." b. gebhardt: _die gravamina der deutschen nation gegen den römischen hof_. . _documents illustrative of english church history_, compiled by henry gee and w. j. hardy. . a. werminghoff: _geschichte der kirchenverfassung deutschlands im mittelalter_. band i.[ ] . a. störmann: _die städtischen gravamina gegen den klerus_. . section . _the humanists_ sources. _the utopia of sir thomas more_. ralph robinson's translation, with roper's life of more and some of his letters. edited by g. sampson and a. guthkelch. with latin text of the utopia. . (bohn's libraries). _der briefwechsel des mutianus rufus_, bearbeitet von c. krause. . _j. reuchlins briefwechsel_, hg. von l. geiger. . e. böcking: _hutteni opera_. - . vols. _epistolae obscurorum virorum_: the latin text with an english translation, notes and an historical introduction by f. g. stokes. . _des. erasmi roterodami opera omnia_, curavit j. clericus. - . vols. _des. erasmi roterodami opus epistolarum_, ed. p. s. allen. ff. (a wonderful edition of the letters, in course of publication. as yet vols). _the colloquies of des. erasmus_, translated by n. bailey, ed. by e. johnson. . vols. _the praise of folly_. written by erasmus and translated by john wilson , edited by mrs. p. s. allen. . _the epistles of erasmus_, translated by f. m. nichols. - . vols. (to ). _the ship of fools_, translated by alexander barclay. vols. . (sebastian brandt's _narrenschiff_ in the old translation). treatises. p. monnier: _le quattrocento_. vols. . (work of a high order). l. geiger: _renaissance und humanismus in italien und deutschland_. . (in oncken's series). d ed. . j. burckhardt: _die cultur der renaissance in italien_. . auflage von l. geiger. berlin. . (almost a classic). p. villari: _niccolò machiavelli and his times_, translated by mrs. villari[ ]. vols. . w. h. hutten: _sir thomas more_. . j. a. froude: _the life and letters of erasmus_. london. . (charmingly written, but marred by gross carelessness). e. emerton: _erasmus_. new york. . g. v. jourdan: _the movement towards catholic reform in the early xvi century_. . a. humbert: _les origines de la théologie moderne_. paris. . (brilliant). a. renaudet: _préréforme et humanisme à paris - _. . chapter ii. germany general _list of references on the history of the reformation in germany_, ed. by g. l. kieffer, w. w. rockwell and o. h. pannkoke, . dahlmann-waitz: _quellenkunde der deutschen geschichte_.[ ] . g. wolf: _quellenkunde der deutschen reformationsgeschichte_. vols. - . a. morel-fatio: _historiographie de charles-quint_. pt. . b. j. kidd: _documents illustrative of the continental reformation_. . t. m. lindsay: _a history of the reformation_. vol. , in germany. . j. janssen: _op. cit._ k. lamprecht: deutsche geschichte, vols. and . . t. brieger: _die reformation_. (in pflugk-harttung's _weltgeschichte: das religiöse zeitalter - _. ; also printed separately in enlarged form). g. mentz: _deutsche geschichte - _. . (the best purely political summary). m. de foronda y aguilera: _estancias y viajes del emperador carlos v, desde el dia de su nacimiento hasta el de su muerte_. . section . _luther_ bibliography in catalogue of the british museum. _dr. martin luther's werke_. kritische gesamtausgabe, von knaake und andern. weimar. ff. (the standard edition of the reformer's writings, in course of publication, approaching completion. as yet have appeared more than fifty volumes of the works, and, separately numbered: die deutsche bibel, vols., and tischreden, vols.). _dr. martin luther's briefwechsel_, bearbeitet von e. l. enders (vols. ff. fortgesetzt von g. kawerau). ff. (in course of publication; as yet volumes). _luther's briefe_, herausgegeben von w. l. m. de wette. vols. - . _luther's primary works_, translated by h. wace and c. a. buchheim. . _the works of martin luther_, translated and edited by w. a. lambert, t. j. schindel, a. t. w. steinhaeuser, a. l. steimle and c. m. jacobs. ff. (to be complete in ten volumes; as yet ). _luther's correspondence and other contemporary letters_, translated and edited by preserved smith. vol. , . vol. ii, in collaboration with c. m. jacobs, . _conversations with luther, selections from the table talk_, translated and edited by preserved smith and h. p. gallinger. . _melanchthonis opera_, ed. bretschneider und bindseil. ff. in corpus reformatorum vols. i-xxviii. j. köstlin: _martin luther_, fünfte auflage besorgt von g. kawerau. vols. . (the standard biography. the english translation made from the edition of in no wise represents the scholarship of the last edition). a. hausrath: _luther's leben_, neue auflage von h. von schubert. . (excellent). h. grisar: _luther_. english translation by f. m. lamond. ff. (six volumes, representing the german three. a learned, somewhat amorphous work, from the catholic standpoint, but not unfair). h. denifle: _luther und lutherthum in der ersten entwicklung_[ ]. vols. ff. (g. p. gooch calls "denifle's eight hundred pages hurled at the memory of the reformer among the most repulsive books in historical literature"; nevertheless the author is so wonderfully learned that much may be acquired from him). a. c. mcgiffert: _martin luther, the man and his work_. . preserved smith: _the life and letters of martin luther_[ ]. . o. scheel: _martin luther, vom katholizismus zur reformation_.[ ] vols. . (detailed study of luther until . warmly protestant). w. w. rockwell: _die doppelehe des landgrafen philipp von hessen_. . (work of a high order). sections - . _the revolution_ _deutsche reichstagsakten unter karl v_, herausgegeben von a. kluckhohn and a. wrede. ff. (four volumes to have appeared). _nuntiaturberichte aus deutschland nebst ergänzenden aktenstücken_, herausgegeben durch das königliche preussische institut in rom. erste abtheilung - . ff. (as yet have appeared vols. - , - ). emil sehling: _die evangelischen kirchenordungen des xvi jahrhunderts_. vols. - . e. armstrong: _the emperor charles v_[ ]. vols. . christopher hare: _a great emperor_. . (popular). o. clemen: _flugschriften aus der reformationszeit_. vols. - . o. schade: _satiren und pasquille aus der reformationszeit_.[ ] vols. . h. barge: _der deutsche bauernkrieg in zeitgenossischen, quellenzeugnissen_. vols. (no date, published about . a small and cheap selection from the sources turned into modern german). j. s. schapiro: _social reform and the reformation_. . (gives some of the texts and a good treatment of the popular movement). e. belfort bax: _the peasants' war in germany_. . (based chiefly on janssen, and unscholarly, but worth mentioning considering the paucity of english works). see also articles carlstadt, karlstadt, t. münzer, sickingen, etc. in the _encyclopaedia of religious knowledge_ and other works of reference. w. stolze: _der deutsche bauermkrieg_. . p. wappler: _die täuferbewegung in thüringen - _. . b. bax: _rise and fall of the anabaptists_. . p. wappler: _die stellung kursuchsens und landgraf philipps von hefssen zur täuferbewegung_. . f. w. schirrmacher: _briefe und akten zur geschicte des religionsgespräches zu marburg und des reichstages zu ausburg, _. . h. von schubert: _bekenntnisbildung und religionspolitik - _. . w. gussmann: _quellen und forschungen zur geschichte des augsburgischen glaubensbekenntnises_. die ratschläge der evangelischen reichsstände zum reichstag zu augsburg. vols. . _politische korrespondenz des herzog und kurfürst moritz von sachsen_, hg. v. e. brandenburg. vols. (as yet), , . s. cardauns: _zur geschichte der kirchlichen unions--und reformbestrebungen - _. . p. heidrich: _karl v und die deutschen protestanten am vorabend des schmalkaldischen krieges_. vols. - . g. mentz: _johann friedrich_, vol. , . see also the works cited above by armstrong, pflugk-harttung, janssen, pastor, _the cambridge modern history_, and documents in kidd. section . _scandinavia, poland, and hungary_ documents in kidd, and treatment in _the cambridge modern history_. _ada pontificum danica_, band vi - . udgivet af a. krarup og j. lindbaek. . c. f. allen; _histoire de danemark_, traduite par e. beauvois, vols. . p. b. watson: _the swedish revolution under gustavus vasa_. . _specimen diplomatarii norvagici . . . ab vetustioribus inde temporibus usque ad finem seculi xvi_. ved gr. fougner lundh. . j. lund: histoire de norvège . . . traduite par g. moch. . _norges historie, fremstillet for det norske folk af_ a. bugge, e. hertzberg, o. a. johnsen, yngvar nielsen, j. e. sars, a. taranger. . c. zivier: _neuere geschichte polens_. band i. - . . t. wotschke: _geschichte der reformation in polen_. . a. berga. _pierre skarga - _. Étude sur la pologne du xvie siècle et le protestantisme polonais. . f. e. whitton: _a history of poland_. . (popular). chapter iii. switzerland section . _zwingli_ _ulrichi zwinglii opera_ ed. schuler und schulthess, vols. - . _ulrich zwinglis werke_, hg. von egli, finsler und köhler, ff. (corpus reformatorum, vols. ff). as yet, vols. i, ii, iii, vii, viii. _ulrich zwingli's selected works_, translated and edited by s. m. jackson. . _the latin works and correspondence of huldreich zwingli_, ed. s. m. jackson, vol. i, . _vadianische briefsammlung_, hg. von e. arbenz und h. wartmann, - . vols. and supplements. _der briefwechsel der brüder ambrosius und thomas blaurer_, hg. von t. schiess, vols. - . _johannes kesslers sabbata_, hg. von e. egli and r. schoch. . (reliable source for the swiss reformation - ). _documents in kidd_. s. m. jackson: _huldreich zwingli_. . w. köhler: "zwingli" in pflugk-harttung's _im morgenrot der reformation_, . e. egli: _schweizerische reformationsgeschichte_. band i, - . . f. humbel: _ulrich zwingli und seine reformation im spiegel der gleichzeitigen schweizerischen volkstümlichen literatur_. . _cambridge modern history_, lindsay, etc. h. barth: _bibliographie der schweizer geschichte_. vols. f. bibliography in g. wolf, _quellenkunde_, vol. . on jetzer see _religion in geschichte und gegenwart_, s.v. "jetzer prozess," and r. reuss: "le procès des dominicains de berne," _revue de l'histoire des religions_, , ff. p. burckhardt: _h. zwingli_. . w. köhler: ulrich zwingli.[ ] . _ulrich zwingli: zum gedächtnis der zürcher reformation_, - , ed. h. escher, . (sumptuous and valuable). _amtliche sammlung der älteren eidgenössischen abschiede_, abt. und . ff. j. strickler: _aktensammlung zur schweizer reformationsgeschichte_. . j. dierauer: _geschichte der schweizerischen eidgenossenschaft_. band iii. . hadorn: _kirchengeschichte der reform_. _schweiz_. . g. tobler: _aktensammlung zur geschichte der berner reformation_. . e. egli: _analecta reformatoria_. vols. - . section . _calvin_ bibliography in wolf: _quellenkunde_, ii. _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_[ ], pub. par a. l. herminjard. vols. ff. _calvini opera omnia_, ed. g. baum, e. cunitz, e. reuss, vols. ff. (_corpus reformatorum_ vols. - ). john calvin: _the institutes of the christian religion_, translated by j. allen. ed. by b. b. warfield. vols. . _the letters of john calvin_, compiled by j. bonnet, translated from the original latin and french. vols. . j. calvin: _institution de la religion chrestienne_, réimprimée, sous la direction d' a. lefranc par h. chatelain et j. pannir. . _the life of john calvin_ by theodore beza, translated by h. beveridge. . a. lang: _johann calvin_. . w. walker: _j. calvin_. . (best biography). h. y. reyburn: _john calvin_. . j. doumergue: _jean calvin_. as yet vols. - . e. knodt: _die bedeutung calvins und calvinismus für die protestantische welt_. . (extensive bibliography and review of recent works). e. troeltsch: "calvin," _hibbert journal_, viii, ff. t. c. hall: "was calvin a reformer or a reactionary?" _hibbert journal_, vi, ff. Étienne giran: _sébastien castellion_. . (severe judgment of calvin from the liberal protestant standpoint). allan menzies: _the theology of calvin_. . h. d. foster: _calvin's programme for a puritan state in geneva - _. . f. brunetière: "l'oeuvre littéraire de calvin." _revue des deux mondes_, série, clxi, pp. ff. ( ). e. lobstein: _kalvin und montaigne_. . chapter iv france sources. a. molinier, h. hauser, e. bourgeois (et autres): _les sources de l'histoire de france depuis les origines jusqu'en _. deuxième partie. le xvie siècle, - , par. ii. hauser. vols. - . (valuable, critical bibliography of sources). _recueil générale des anciennes lois francaises_, par isambert, decrusy, armet. tomes - ( - ). ff. _ordonnances des rois de france_. règne de françois i. vols. - . michel de l'hôpital: oeuvres complètes, ed. dufey. vols. - . _journal d'un bourgeois de paris sons le règne de françois ier ( - )_, ed. par l. lalanne. . _commentaires de blaise de monluc_, ed. p. courtreault. vols. ff. _mémoires-journaux du duc de guise - _, ed. michaud et poujoulat. . _oeuvres complètes de pierre de bourdeille, seigneur de brantôme_, ed. par l. lalanne, vols. - . _histoire ecclésiastique des Églises reformées au royaume de france_, ed. g. baum et e. cunitz, vols. - . (this history first appeared anonymously in in vols. the place of publication is given as antwerp, but probably it was really geneva. the author has been thought by many to be theodore beza.) _memoires of the duke of sully_. english translation in bohn's library. vols. no date. crespin: _histoire des martyrs, persecutés et mis à mort pour la verité de l' Évangile_. ed. of . _mémoires de martin et de guillaume du bellay_, ed. par v. l. bourilly et f. vindry. vols. - . _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_, pub. par a. l. herminjard. vols. ff. j. fraikin: _nonciatures de la france_. vol. i, clement vii, . _lettres de catherine de médicis_, publiées par h. de la ferrière et b. de puchesse. vols. paris. - . _catalogue générale de la bibliothèque nationale_. actes royaux. vol. i, . literature. a. m. whitehead: _gaspard de coligny_. . louis batiffol: _the century of the renaissance_, translated from the french by e. f. buckley, with an introduction by j. e. c. bodley. . j. w. thompson: _the wars of religion in france - _. . e. lavisse: _histoire de france_. tome cinquième. i. les guerres d' italie. la france sous charles viii, louis xii et françois i, par h. lemonnier. . ii. la lutte contre la maison d'autriche. la france sous henri ii, par h. lemonnier. . tome sixième. i. la réforme et la ligue. l'Édit de nantes ( - ), par j. h. mariéjol. . (standard work). h. m. baird: _the rise of the huguenots in france_, vols. . h. m. baird: _the huguenots and henry of navarre_. vols. . h. n. williams: _henri ii_. . e. marcks: _gaspard von coligny_: sein leben und das frankreich seiner zeit. . (excellent, only volume i, taking coligny to , has appeared). p. imbart de la tour: _les origines de la réforme_. i. la france moderne. . ii. l'eglise catholique et la crise de la renaissance. . iii. l'Évangélisme ( - ). . (excellent work, social and cultural rather than political). e. sichel: _catherine de' medici and the french reformation_. . e. sichel: _the later years of catherine de' medici_. . c. e. du boulay: _historia universitatis parisiensis_. tomus vi. . j. michelet: _histoire de france_. vols. - . first edition ff. (a beautiful book; though naturally superseded in part, it may still be read with profit). w. heubi: _françois i et le mouvement intellectuel en france_. . a. autin: _l' Échec de la réforme en france au xvi, siècle_. contribution à l' histoire du sentiment religieux. . l. romier: _les origines politiques des guerres de religion_. vols. - . l. romier: "les protestants français à la veille des guerres civiles," _revue historique_, vol. , , pp. lff, ff. e. armstrong: _the french wars of religion_. . c. g. kelley: _french protestantism - _. johns hopkins university studies, vol. xxxvi, no. . . n. weiss: _la chambre ardente_. . chapter v. the netherlands h. pirenne: _bibliographie de l'histoire de belgique_. catalogue des sources et des ouvrages principaux relatifs à l'histoire de tous les pays-bas jusq'en .[ ] . sources: kervyn de lettenhove: _relations politiques des pays-bas et d'angleterre_. vols. - . (covers - ). _resolution der staaten-generaal - _. door n. japikse. as yet vols. ( - .) - . _corpus documentorum inquisitionis_ . . . _neerlandicae_ . . . uitgegeven door p. predericq. vols. - , ff. _bibliotheca reformatoria neerlandica_ . . . uitgegeven door s. cramer en f. pijper. - . vols. _collectanea van gerardus geldenhauer noviomagus_ . . . uitgegeven . . . door j. prinsen. . _la chasse aux luthériens des pays-bas_. souvenirs de francisco de enzinas. paris. . (memoirs of a spanish protestant in the netherlands. this edition is beautifully illustrated). _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, publiée . . . par m. gachard. - . vols. correspondance de philippe ii sur les affaires des pays-bas, publiee . . . par m. gachard. vols. - . h. grotius: _the annals and history of the low country-wars_, rendered into english by t. m[anley]. . calendar of state papers, foreign, of elizabeth, ed. j. stevenson and others. london - . ( volumes to date; much material on the netherlands). literature. h. pirenne: _histoire de belgique_. vols and . - . (standard work. a german translation by f. arnheim was published of the third volume in , before the french edition, and of the th volume, revised and slightly improved, in ). p. j. blok: _history of the people of the netherlands_. translated by ruth putnam. part , , part , . (also a standard work). e. grossart: _charles v et philippe ii_. . felix rachfahl: _wilhelm von oranien und der niederländische aufstand_. vols. and . - . ruth putnam: _william the silent_ (heroes of the nations). . p. kalkoff: _anfänge der gegenreformation in den niederlanden_. . (monograph of value). _geschiedenis van de hervorming en de hervormde kerk der nederlanden_, door j. reitsma. derde, bijgewerkte en vermeerderde druk beworkt door l. a. von langeraad . . . en bezorgd door f. reitsma. . j. i. motley: _the rise of the dutch republic_. . (a classic, naturally in part superseded by later research). j. f. motley: _the life and death of john of oldenbarneveld_. . j. c. squire: _william the silent_. ( ). chapter vi. england - bibliographies in _cambridge modern history_, and in the _political history of england_, by pollard and fisher, for which see below. sources: _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii_, arranged by j. s. brewer, j. gairdner and r. h. brodie. vols. (monumental). similar series of "calendars of state papers" have been published for english papers preserved at rome ( vol. ), spain, ( vols.), venice ( vols), ireland ( vols.), domestic of edward vi, mary, elizabeth and james ( vols.), foreign edward vi ( vol.), mary ( vol.), elizabeth ( vols. to ). milan ( vol. ). _the english garner_: tudor tracts - , ed. e. arber. vols. - . _documents illustrative of english church history_, compiled by h. gee and w. j. hardy. . _select statutes and other constitutional documents - _, ed. g. w. prothero.[ ] . _the statutes of the realm_, printed by command of george iii. ff. _select cases before the king's council in star chamber_, ed. i. s. leadam. vol. , - . selden society. . original letters, ed. by sir h. ellis. st series, vols. ; d series vols. ; series vols. . literature: h. a. l. fisher: _political history of england - _. new edition . (political history of england edited by w. hunt and r. l. poole, vol. . standard work). a. f. pollard: _political history of england - _. . (political history of england ed. by hunt and poole, vol. . standard work). a. d. innes: _england under the tudors_. . h. gee: _the reformation period_. . (handbooks of english church history). j. gairdner: _lollardy and the reformation_. vols. ff. (written by an immensely learned man with a very strong high-church anglican bias). preserved smith: "luther and henry viii," _english historical review_, xxv, ff, . preserved smith: "german opinion of the divorce of henry viii," _english historical review_, xxvii, ff, . preserved smith: "hans luft of marburg," _nation_, may , . preserved smith: "news for bibliophiles," _nation_, may , . (on early english translations of luther). preserved smith: "martin luther and england," _nation_, dec. , . preserved smith: "complete list of works of luther in english," _lutheran quarterly_, october, . e. r. adair: "the statute of proclamations," _english historical review_, xxxii, ff. . lord ernest hamilton: _elizabethan ulster_. ( ). peter guilday: _the english catholic refugees on the continent - _. vol. . . (brilliant study). a. f. pollard: _england under protector somerset_. . a. f. pollard: _henry viii_. . a. f. pollard: _thomas cranmer_. . j. h. pollen: _the english catholics in the reign of elizabeth_. . f. a. gasquet: _the eve of the reformation_. new ed. . e. b. merriman: _the life and letters of thomas cromwell_. vols. . (valuable). a. o. meyer: _england und die katholische kirche unter elizabeth_. . (thorough and brilliant). said to be translated into english, . l. trésal: _les origines du schisme anglican - _. . a. j. klein: _intolerance in the reign of elizabeth_. . j. a. froude: _history of england from the fall of wolsey to the armada_. vols. - . (still the best picture of the time. strongly royalist and protestant, some errors in detail, brilliantly written). _dictionary of national biography_, ed. by leslie stephens and sidney lee. vois. - . carlos b. lumsden: _the dawn of modern england - _. . richard bagwell: _ireland under the tudors_. vols. . h. holloway: _the reformation in ireland_. . mrs. j. r. green: _the making of ireland and its undoing - _. first edition ; revised and corrected . (nationalist; interesting). h. n. birt: _the elizabethan religions settlement_. . w. walch: _england's fight with the papacy_. . r. g. usher: _the rise and fall of high commission_. . _die wittenberger artikel von _, hg. von g. mentz. . r. g. usher: _the presbyterian movement - _. . chapter vii. scotland sources. _acts of the parliament of scotland_. vols. ff. b. j. kidd: _documents of the continental reformation_, , pp. - . _calendar of state papers relating to scotland - _. vols. ed. m. j. thorpe. . _state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_ - , ed. j. bain and w. k. boyd. vols. ff. _hamilton papers, - _, ed. j. bain. much in the english calendars for which see bibliography to chap. vi. john knox's works, ed. laing, - . r. lindsay of pitscottie: _historie and cronicles of scotland_, ed. a. j. g. mackay. - . vols. _satirical poems of the time of the reformation_, ed. j. cranstoun. vols. . john knox: _the history of the reformation of religion in scotland_, ed. by cuthbert lennox. . literature: p. hume brown: _history of scotland_. vols. - . w. l. mathieson: _politics and religion; a study of scottish history from reformation to revolution_. vols. . d. h. fleming: _the reformation in scotland_. . (strongly protestant). g. christie: _the influence of letters on the scottish reformation_. . a. lang: _john knox and the reformation_. . j. crook: _john knox the reformer_. . a. b. hart, "john knox," in _american historical review_, xiii, - . (brilliant character study). r. s. rait: "john knox," in _quarterly review_, vol. , . a. lang: _the mystery of mary stuart_. . lady blennerhassett: _maria stuart, königin von schottland_. . a. lang: _a history of scotland_. vols. - . p. hume brown: _john knox_. vols. . h. cowan: _john knox_. . a. r. macewen: _a history of the church in scotland_. vol. i ( - ), ; vol. ii ( - ), . (good). a. lang: "casket letters," _encyclopaedia britannica_, . p. hume brown: _surveys of scottish history_. . (philosophical). chapter viii. the counter reformation sections and . _the papacy and italy - _. sources: c. mirbt: _op. cit._ consilium delectorum cardinalium et aliorum praelatorum de emendanda ecclesia . in mansi: _sacrorum conciliorum et decretorum collectio nova_, , supplement , pp. - . the same in german with luther's notes in _luther's werke_, weimar, vol. . literature: l. von pastor: _a history of the popes from the close of the middle ages_. english translation ed. by r. f. kerr. vols. - . ff. (these volumes cover the period - . standard work dense with new knowledge). l. von pastor: _geschichte der päpste seit dem ausgang des mittelalters_. band vi. ; vii. . (of these volumes of the german, covering the years - , there is as yet no english translation). p. herre: _papsttum und papstwahl im zeitalter philipps, ii_. . j. mccabe: _crises in the history of the papacy_. . (popular). mandel creighton: _op. cit._ l. von ranke: _history of the popes, their church and state, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries_, translated from the german by sarah austin. vol. , . (translation of ranke's _die römischen päpste_, of which the first edition appeared - . a classic). h. m. vaughan: _the medici popes_. . (popular, sympathetic). g. droysen: _geschichte der gegenreformation_. . (oncken's series). e. rodocanachi: "la réformation en italic," _revue des deux mondes_, march, . lord acton: _lectures on modern history_, , pp. ff. j. a. symonds: _the catholic reaction_. vols. . g. monod: "la réforme catholique," _revue historique_, vol. cxxi ( ). b. wiffen: _life and writings of juan de valdes_. . c. hare: _men and women of the italian reformation_. ( ). _kirche und reformation_. unter mitwirkung von l. v. pastor, w. schnyder, l. schneller usw. hg. von j. scheuber. . "counter-reformation" in the _catholic encyclopaedia_. g. benrath: _geschichte der reformation in venedig_. . j. burckhardt: _op. cit._ section . _the council of trent_ sources: _concilium tridentinum_. diariorum, actorum, epistularum, tractatuum nova collectio. edidit societas goerresiana. ff. in course of publication; as yet have appeared vols. - , , . j. susta: _die römische kurie und das komil von trient unter pius iv_. aktenstucke zur geschichte des konzils von trient. vols. - . le plat: _monumenta ad historiam concilii tridentini spectantia_. vols. - . _the canons and decrees of the sacred and ecumenical council of trent_, translated by j. waterworth. . reprint, chicago, . g. drei: "per la storia del concilio de trento. lettere inedite del segretario camille olivo ." _archivio storico italiano_ . p. schaff: _the creeds of christendom_. vol. , . (latin text and english translation of canons and decrees). _the cathechism of the council of trent_, translated into english by j. donovan. . literature: j. a. froude: _lectures on the council of trent_. . p. sarpi: _the historie of the councel of trent_. . (translation from the italian, which first appeared ). a. harnack: _lehrbuch der dogmengeschichte_,[ ] , vol. iii, pp. ff. english translation, vol. vii, pp. - . ranke's remark that there was no good history of the council of trent holds good today. the best, as far as it goes, is in pastor. section . _the jesuits_ sources: bibliothèque de la compagnie de jésus. i ère partie: bibliographie par les pères de backer. ème partie par a. carayan. nouvelle ed. par c. sommervogel. vols. - . corrections et additions par e. m. rivière. . _monumenta historica societatis jesu_, edita a patribus ejusdem societatis. madrid, - . volumes. _cartas de san ignacio de loyola_, vols. - . _acta sanctorum_, july . . _the autobiography of st. ignatius_, english translation ed. by j. f. x. o'connor. . _letters and instructions of st. ignatius loyola_, translated by d. f. o'leary and ed. by a. goodier. . _the spiritual exercises of st. ignatius loyola_. spanish and english, by j. rickaby, s. j. . _beati petri canisii, s. j., epistulae et acta_, ed. o. braunsberger. vols. as yet. - . literature. h. boehmer: _les jésuites_. ouvrage traduit de l'allemand avec une introduction et des notes par g. monod. . (standard work though very concise). e. gothein: _ignatius von loyola und die gegenreformation_. . a. mccabe: _a candid history of the jesuits_. . (hostile but not unveracious). b. duhr: geschichte der jesuiten in den ländern deutscher zunge im ten jahrhundert. band i. . h. fouqueray: _histoire de la compagnie de jésus en france_. vols. - . e. l. taunton: _the jesuits in england_. . francis thompson: _saint ignatius loyola_. . (i mention this book by "a seventeenth century poet born into the nineteenth century" on account of the author's fame). s. brou: _st. françois xavier_. vols. paris, . j. m. cros: _st. françois de xavier_, vols. toulouse, . on xavier see also mirbt, _op cit._, no. , a. d. white: warfare of science and theology, , ii, - , and pastor. _life of st. francis xavier_ by edith a. stewart, with translations from his letters by d. macdonald. . (popular and sympathetic). w. g. jayne: _vasco da gama and his successors_ ( ), on xavier, pp. ff. section . _the inquisition and the index_ sources: p. fredericq: _corpus documentorum inquisitionis neerlandicae_, vols. , ., ff. l. von pastor: _allegemeine dekrete der römischen inquisition - _. . _mandament der keyserlijcken maiesteit_, vuytghegeven int iaer xlvi. louvain. . one hundred facsimile copies printed for a. m. huntington at the de vinne press, new york, . _catalogi librorum reprobatorum & praelegendorum ex iudicio academiae louaniensis_, pinciae. mdli. mandato dominorum de consilio sanctae generalis inquisitionis. one hundred facsimile copies printed for a. m. huntington at the de vinne press, new york, . _catalogus librorum qui prohibentur mandato illustrissimi & rev. d. d. ferdinand de valdes_, hispalen. archiepiscopi, inquisitoris generalis hispaniae, . one hundred facsimile copies printed at de vinne press, . literature. h. c. lea: _a history of the inquisition in spain_. vols. - . characterized by wide reading and the use of many manuscripts which lea had copied from all european archives. a really wonderful work. the manuscripts on which it is based are still in his library in philadelphia. i have been kindly allowed by his son and daughter to look over those on spanish protestantism. h. c. lea: _the inquisition in the spanish dependencies_. . p. fredericq: "les récents historiens catholiques de l'inquisition en france," _revue historique_, cix, , pp. ff. (a scathing criticism of the apologists of the inquisition who have written against lea). e. n. adler: _auto de fé and the jew_. . e. schäfer: _beiträge zur geschichte des spanischen protestantismus und der inquisition_. vols. . g. bushbell: _reformation und inquisition in italien um die mitte des xvi jahrhunderts_. . f. h. reusch: _der index der verbotenen bücher_. vols. . (standard). j. hilgers: _der index der verbotenen bücher_. . (apologetic). h. c. lea: _chapters from the religious history of spain connected with the inquisition_. . (chiefly on the index). articles: "inquisition," "holy office," &c. in the _encylopaedia of religion and ethics, protestantische realencyclopädie, catholic encyclopedia_, &c. g. h. putnam: _the censorship of the church of rome_. vols. . chapter ix. the iberian peninsula and the expansion of europe section . _spain_ sources: _colección de documentos ineditos para la historia de españa_. vols. ff. _nueva colección de documentos ineditos &c_. vols. - . _calendar of letters, despatches and state papers, spanish_, &c., vols. covering - , except - . to date. a. morel-fatio: _historiographie de charles quint_. . (contains a new french version of the commentaries of charles v). f. l. de gomara: _annals of the emperor charles v_, ed. by r. b. merriman. . literature. rafael altamira y crevea: _historia de españa_, tomo iii,[ ] . (the best general history, very largely social, written in easy, popular style). c. e. chapman: _the history of spain_. . (based on altamira). e. b. merriman: _the rise of the spanish empire_. vols., to . . (doubtless the future volumes of the excellent work will be even more valuable for our present purpose). k. häbler: _geschichte spaniens unter den habsburgern_, band , . (standard work for the period of charles v). martin a. s. hume: _spain, its greatness and decay - _. . (popular). m. a. s. hume: _philip ii of spain_. . e. gossart: _charles v et philip ii_. . e. a. armstrong: _charles v_. second ed. . vols. w. h. prescott: _history of the reign of philip ii, king of spain_. - . (unfinished, a classic). h. c. lea: _the moriscos in spain: their conversion and expulsion_. . bratli: _philippe ii, roi d'espagne_, . (an unhappy attempt to whitewash philip; uses some new material). m. philippson: _westeuropa im zeitalter von philip ii, elizabeth und heinrich iv_. . section . _the expansion of europe_ w. h. prescott: _history of the conquest of mexico_. . (a classic). w. h. prescott: _history of the conquest of peru_. . h. vander linden: "alexander vi and the bulls of demarcation," _american historical review_, xxii, , pp ff. i. a. wright: _early history of cuba_, - . . c. de lannoy et h. van der linden: _l'expansion coloniale des peuples européens_. vol. . portugal et espagne. . e. g. bourne: _spain in america_. . (excellent). s. ruge: _geschichte des zeitalters der entdeckungen_. . (oncken: allgemeine geschichte). p. leroy-beaulieu: _de la colonisation chez les peuples modernes_. st ed. . th ed. . vols. j. winsor: _narrative and critical history of america_, vols. , , , . h. morse stephens: _the story of portugal_. . g. young: _portugal old and young_. . _the commentaries of the great afonso dalboquerque_, ed. by w. de g. birch. vols. - . k. g. jayne: _vasco da gama and his successors_. ( ). k. waliszewski: _ivan le terrible_. . _the principal navigations, voyages, traffiques and discoveries of the english nation_, by r. hakluyt. vols. . _purchas his pilgrimes_, by s. purchas. vols. . f. g. davenport: _european treaties bearing on the history of the united states and its dependencies_. . w. c. abbott: _the expansion of europe_. vols. . chapter x social conditions as the sources for this chapter would include all the extant literature and documents of the period, it is impossible to do more than mention a few of those particularly referred to. moreover, as most political histories now have chapters on social and economic conditions, a great deal on the subject will be found in the previous bibliographies. _general_ sources: wm. harrison's _description of england_ ( , revised and enlarged ) ed. f. j. furnivall. ff. parts. _social tracts_, ed. a. lang from arber's _english garner_. . literature. _handwörterbuch der staatswissenschaften_,[ ] ed. j. conrad, w. a. lexis, e. loening. vols. - . (standard). _wörterbuch der volkswirtschaft_,[ ] hg. von l. elster. vols. . _social england_, ed. by h. d. traill and j. s. mann. vol. . henry viii to elizabeth. . (standard work, originally published ). s. b. fay: _the hohenzollern household_. . _a catalogue of french economic documents from the th, th and th centuries_, published by the john crerar library, chicago, . h. van houtte: _documents pour servir à l' histoire des prix de à _. . cavaignac: "la population de l'espagne vers ." _séances et travaux de l'académie des sciences morales et politiques, e année_, , pp. ff. (puts the population at ten to twelve millions). j. culevier: _les dénombrements de foyers en brabant (xvie et xviie siècles.)_ . w. cunningham: _essay on western civilization in its economic aspect_. vol. . . j. beloch: "die bevölkerung europas zur zeit der renaissance." _zeitschrift für sozialwissenschaft_, iii, , pp. - . d. j. hill: _a history of diplomacy in the international development of europe_. vol. . . c. h. haring: "american gold and silver production in the first half of the sixteenth century," _quarterly journal of economics_, may, . c. h. haring: _trade and navigation between spain and the indies in the time of the hapsburgs_. . l. felix: der einfluss von staat und recht auf die entwicklung des eigenthums. te hälfte, te abteilung. . g. wiebe: _zur geschichte der preisrevolution der . und . jahrhunderten_, in von miaskowski: _staats und sozialwissenschaftliche beiträge_, ii, . . (important.) g. d' avenel: _histoire économique de la propriété, des salaires, des denrées et de tous les prix en général - _. vols. ff. (wonderfully interesting work). g. d' avenel: _découvertes d'histoire sociale_. . (brief summary of his larger work). w. naudé: _die getreidehandelspolitik der europäischen staaten von ten bis zum ten jahrhundert_. . n. s. b. gras: _the evolution of the english corn market_. . a. p. usher: _the history of the grain trade in france_. - . . k. häbler: _die wirtschaftliche blüte spaniens im . jahrhundert und ihr verfall_. . b. moses: "the economic condition of spain in the th century." _american historical association reports_. . e. p. cheyney: _social changes in england in the sixteenth century as reflected in contemporary literature_. part i, rural changes. . a. luschin von ebengreuth: _allgemeine münzkunde und geldgeschichte des mittelalters und der neueren zeit_. . section . _life of the people_ sources: _das zimmersche chronik_,[ ] hg. v. k. a. barack. vols. - . _social germany in luther's time_, the memoirs of bartholomew sastrow, translated by a. d. vandam. . t. tusser: _a hundred points of good husbandrie_. . (later expanded as: five hundred points of good husbandry united to as many of good huswifery. ). l. von pastor; _die reise kardinals luigi d'aragona - _. . (ergänzungen und erläuterungen zu janssens geschichte des deutschen volkes. band iv, teil ). baldassare castiglione: _the book of the courtier_. english translation by opdycke. . _the seconde parte of a register: being a calendar of manuscripts under that title intended for publication by the puritans_. . by a. peel. vols. . treatises: e. b bax: _german society at the close of the middle ages_. . p. v. b. jones: _household of a tudor nobleman_. . w. b. rye: _england as seen by foreigners in the days of elizabeth and james i_. . c. l. powell: _english domestic relations, - : a study of matrimony and family life in theory and practice as revealed in the literature, law and history of the period_. . w. kawerau: _die reformation und die ehe_. . p. s. allen: _the age of erasmus_. . k. e. greenfield: _sumptuary laws of nürnberg_. . preserved smith: "some old blue laws," _open court_, april, . h. almann: _das leben des deutschen volkes bem beginn der neuzeit_. . e. s. bates: _touring in _. . t. f. ordish: _the early london theatres_. . j. cartwright: _baldassare castiglione_. vols. . j. l. pagel: _geschichte der medizin. zweite auflage von k. südhoff_. . a. h. buck: _the growth of medicine from the earliest times to about _. . h. haeser: _geschichte der medicin_. band ii.[ ] . f. h. garrison: _an introduction to the history of medicine_. . j. lohr: _methodisch-kritische beiträge zur geschichte der sittlichkeit des klerus, besonders der erzdiözese köln am ausgang des mittelalters_. . h. a. krose: _der einfluss der konfession auf die sittlichkeit nach den ergebnissen der statistik_. . henri (j. a.) baudrillart: _histoire du luxe privé et public depuis l'antiquité jusqu' à nos jours_. vol. , moyen age et renaissance. . chapter xi the capitalistic revolution many of the books referred to in the last chapter and many general histories have chapters on the subject. their titles are not repeated here. _english economic history_. select documents ed. by a. e. bland, p. a. brown and r. h. tawney. . (with helpful bibliographies and well-selected material). h. g. rosedale: _queen elizabeth and the levant company_. . e. levasseur: _histoire des classes ouvrières et de l' industrie en france avant _.[ ] vols. - . g. avenel: _paysuns et ouvriers depuis sept cent ans_.[ ] . w. cunningham: _the growth of english industry and commerce, during the early and middle ages_.[ ] . modern times.[ ] . w. j. ashley: _the economic organisation of england_. . (brief, brilliant). g. unwin: _the industrial organization of england in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries_. . (scholarly). a. p. usher: _the industrial history of england_. . j. w. burgon: _life and times of sir t. gresham_. vols. . o. noël: _histoire du commerce du monde_. vols. - . h. g. selfridge: _the romance of commerce_. . j. a. williamson: _maritime enterprise - _. . j. strieder: _die inventar der firma fugger aus dem jahre _. . j. strieder: _zur genesis des modernen kapitalismus_. . j. strieder: _studien zur geschichte kapitalistischer organisationsformen: monopole, kartelle, und aktiengesellschaften im mittelalter und zu beginn der neuzeit_. . (highly important). clive day: _history of commerce_. . w. mück: _der mansfelder kupferschieferbergbau_. . r. ehrenberg: _das zeitalter der fugger_. band i, . c. a. herrick: _history of commerce and industry_. . (text-book). m. p. rooseboom: _the scottish staple in the netherlands, - _. . w. sombart: _krieg und kapitalismus_. . w. sombart: _der moderne kapitalismus?_ vols. in . - . l. brentano: _die anfänge des modernen kapitalismus_. . a. schulte: _die fugger in rom_. vols. . maxime kowalewsky: _die ökonomische entwicklung europas bis zum beginn der kapitalistischen wirtschaftsform_. _aus dem russischen übersetzt von a. stein_. vol. . . (important). e. e. prothero: _english farming past and present_. . e. f. gay: "inclosures in england in the th century," _quarterly journal of economics_, vol. , . e. f. gay: _zur geschichte der einhegungen in england_. . (berlin dissertation). j. s. leadam: _the domesday of inclosures_. . j. e. t. rogers: _six centuries of work and wages_. . j. e. t. rogers: _a history of agriculture and prices in england_. vols. iii and iv, - . . (a classic). j. klein: _the mesta: a study in spanish economic history_. . r. h. tawney: _the agrarian problem in the sixteenth century_. . w. stolze: _zur vorgeschichte des bauernkrieges_. (_staatsund sozialwissenschaftliche forschungen, hg. von g. schmoller_. band , heft ). . j. hayem: _les grèves dans les temps modernes. mémoires et documents pour servir à l'histoire du commerce et de l'industrie en france_. . l. feuchtwanger: "geschichte der sozialen politik und des armenwesens im zeitalter der reformation." _jahrbuch für gesetzgebung_, , xxxii, and , xxxiii. j. s. schapiro: _social reform and the reformation_. . g. uhlhorn: _die christliche liebestätigkeit_. . e. m. leonard: _the early history of english poor relief_. . o. winckelmann: "die armenordnungen von nürnberg ( ), kitzingen ( ), regensburg ( ) und ypern ( )," _archiv für reformationsgeschichte_, x, and xi, . j. l. vives: _concerning the relief of the poor_, tr. by m. m. sherwood. . _liber vagatorum_, reprinted, with luther's preface, in luther's werke, weimar, vol. xxvi, pp. ff. brooks adams: _the new empire_. . (fanciful). k. lamprecht: _zum vërstandnis der wirtschaftlichen und sozialen wandlungen in deutschland vom - . jahrhundert_. . _shakespeare's england_, by various authors. vols. . chap. xi, g. unwin: "commerce and coinage." h. schönebaum: "antwerpens blütezeit im xvi. jahrhundert." _archiv für kulturgeschichte_, xiii. . o. winckelmann: "ueber die ältesten armenordnungen der reformationszeit." _historische vierteljahrschrift_, xvii. - . stella kramer: _the english craft gilds and the government_. . _niederländische akten und urkunden zur geschichte der hanse und zur deutschen seegeschichte . . . bearbeitet von r. häpke_. band i ( - ). . w. cunningham: _progress of capitalism in england_. . chapter xii main currents of thought section . _biblical and classical scholarship_ _novum instrumentum omne, diligenter ab erasmo rot. recognitum et emendatum_. _basileae_. _ _. (nearly editions catalogued in the bibliotheca erasmiana. in erasmi opera omnia, , vol. vi.) _novum testamentum graece et latine in academia complutensi noviter impressum_. _ _. _vetus testamentum multiplici lingua nunc primum impressum_. _in hac praeclarissima complutensi universitate_. . c. r. gregory: _die textkritik des neuen testaments_. parts. - . articles "bible," in _encyclopaedia britannica_, _encyclopaedia of religion and ethics_, _protestantische realencyklopädie_, and _die religion in geschichte und gegenwart_. e. von dobschütz: _the influence of the bible on civilization_. . f. falk: _die bibel am ausgange des mittelalters, ihre kenntnis und ihre verbreitung_. . martin luther's _deutsche bibel_, in sämmtliche werke, weimar, separately numbered, vols. i, ii, iii, v. k. fullerton: "luther's doctrine and criticism of scripture," _bibliotheca sacra_, jan. and april, . h. zerener: _studien über das beginnende eindringen der lutherischen bibelübersetzung in der deutschen literatur_. . _lutherstudien zur . jahrhundertfeier der reformation, von den mitarbeitern der weimarer lutherausgabe_. . pp. ff. k. a. meissinger: _luther's exegese in der frühzeit_. . o. reichert: _martin luther's deutsche bibel_. . sir h. h. howorth: "the biblical canon according to the continental reformers," _journal of theological studies_, ix, ff. ( - ). j. p. hentz: _history of the lutheran version of the bible_. . d. lortsch: _histoire de la bible en france_. . a. w. pollard: _records of the english bible_. . s. c. macauley: "the english bible," _quarterly review_, oct. , pp. ff. w. canton: _the bible and the anglo-saxon people_. . h. t. peck: _a history of classical philology_. . sir j. e. sandys: "scholarship," chap. ix in _shakespeare's england_, . sir j. e. sandys: _a history of classical scholarship_. vol. ii, . (standard). h. hallam: _introduction to the literature of europe in the th, th and th centuries_. - . (very comprehensive, in part antiquated, somewhat external but on the whole excellent). section . _history_ treatises: e. fueter: _geschichte der neueren historiographie_. . french translation, revised, . (work of brilliance: philosophical, reliable, readable). m. ritter: "studien über die entwicklung der geschichtswissenschaft." _historische zeitschrift_, cit. ( ). ff. e. menke-glückert: die geschichtschreibung der reformation und gegenreformation. bodin und die begründung der geschichtsmethodologie durch bartholomäus keckermann. . p. joachimsen: _geschichtsauffassung und geschichtschreibung in deutschland unter dem einfluss des humanismus_. teil i. . g. l. burr: "the freedom of history," _american historical review_, xxii, f. . a. morel-fatio: _historiographie de charles-quint_. . f. c. baur: _die epochen der kirchlichen geschichtschreibung_. . l. von ranke: _zur kritik neueren geschichtschreiber_.[ ] . g. wolf: _quellenkunde der deutschen reformationsgeschichte_. vol. i, ; vol. ii, . article, "history" in _encyclopedia americana_, ed. of . originals. n. machiavelli: _istorie fiorentine_. (to ). first ed. - . numerous editions, and english translation by c. e. detmold: the historical, political and diplomatic writings of n. machiavelli. vols. . francesco guicciardini: _storia fiorentina_. ( - ). first published . _istoria d' italia_. ( - ). first edition - ; numerous editions since, and english translation by g. fenton: the historie of guicciardini. . benvenuto cellini: _life_, translated by r. h. h. cust. vols. . (the original text first correctly published by o. bacci, . many english translations). paulus jovius: _historiarum sui temporis libri. xlv. ( - )_. - . polydore vergil: _anglicae historiae libri. xxvii, (to )_. first edition, to , basle, ; d ed. . (i use the edition of . the best criticism is in h. a. l. fisher's political history of england - , pp. ff.) polydore vergil: _de rerum inventoribus libri octo_. . d ed., enlarged, . caesar baronius: _annales ecclesiastici_ (to ). rome. - . _ecclesiastica historia . . . secundum centurias, a m. flacio, et aliis_. magdeburg. - . h. bullinger: _reformationsgeschichte, hg. von j. j. hottinger und h. h. vögeli_. vols. - . (index to this in preparation by w. wuhrmann; bullinger's correspondence will also soon appear). joan. sleidani: _de statu religionis et reipublicae, carolo quinto caesare, commentariorum libri xxvi_. . (my edition, , vols., was owned formerly by i. döllinger). joannis cochlaei: _historia de actis et scriptis m. lutheri - _. coloniae. . (critique in a. herte's dissertation, die lutherbiographie des j. cochlaeus. ). j. mathesius: _siebzehn predigten von den historien des herrn doctoris martini luthers_. st ed. ; new ed. by lösche. . _mémoires de martin et de guillaume du bellay_: ( - ). st ed. . critical ed. by v. l. bourrilly and fleury vindry, ff. blaise de monluc: _commentaires_ ( - ); st ed. ; critical ed. by p. courtreault. - . _oeuvres de p. de bourdeille, seigneur de brantôme_, ed. l. lalanne. vols. ff. j. j. scaliger: _opus novum de emendatione temporum_. , . _histoire ecclésiastique des églises françaises réformées_. pub. par baum et cunitz. vols. - . (attributed, with probability, to beza; first published ). jean bodin: _methodus ad facilem historiarum cognitionem_, . peter martyr d' anghiera: _opus epistolarum_. _ _. (this rare edition at harvard. the work is a history in the form of letters, partly fictitious, partly genuine. cf. j. bernays: peter martyr anghierensis und sein opus epistolarum. ). ignatius de loyola: autobiography. _monumenta societatis jesu_, ser. iv, tom. , . english translation ed. by j. f. x. o'connor. . george buchanan: _rerum scoticarum historia_. edinburgh. . (cf. m. meyer-cohn: g. buchanan als publizist und historiker maria stuarts. ). john knox: _the history of the reformation of religion within the realm of scotland_. (first incomplete edition, ; critical complete edition by d. laing, , in vol. of knox's works. cf. a. lang: "knox as historian," _scottish historical review_, ii, , pp. ff). john foxe: _acts and monuments of the christian martyrs_. _ _. (the ms that i have compared with fox is harleian ms of the british museum, endorsed: "john fox's collection of letters and papers on theological matters," fol. ). nicholas sanders: _de origine et progressu schismatis anglicani_. . edward hall: _the union of the noble and illustrious families of lancaster and york, _. published as hall's chronicle, . raphael holinshed: _chronicles of england, scotland and ireland_. vol. , . john stow: _the chronicles of england from brute unto this present year of christ _. second edition, _the annals of england_, . section . _political theory_ sources: erasmus: _institutio principis christiani_, in opera omnia, , iv, . _the utopia of sir thomas more_ (english and latin) edited by g. sampson with an introduction by a. guthkelch. . n. machiavelli: _the prince_. (innumerable editions and translations). h. jordan: _luthers staatsauffassung_. . (extracts from his works). zwingli: _de vera et falsa religione_, werke ed. egli, finsler und köhler, iii, ( ), ff. calvin: _institutio_, ed. , cap. xvi. l. vives: _de communione rerum_. . _vindiciae contra tyrannos, sive de principis in populum populique in principem legitima potestate_. stephano iunio bruto celta auctore. . francisci hotmani: _francogallia_. _nune quartum ab auctore recognita_. . e. de la boétie: _discours de la servitude volontaire_. in oeuvres complètes pub. par p. bonnefon. , pp. ff. _de jure magistratuum in subditos_ [by beza]. _the works of mr. richard hooker_, ed. j. keble. vols. . j. bodin: _les six livres de la république_. . g. buchanan: _de jure regni apud scotos_. . j. de mariana: _de rege et regis institutione_. . literature: lord acton: "freedom in christianity," ( ), in _the history of freedom and other essays_, ed. j. n. figgis and r. v. lawrence. . w. a. dunning: _a history of political theories_. _ancient and medieval_. . _from luther to montesquieu_. . j. n. figgis: _studies in political thought from gerson to grotius_.[ ] . j. mackinnon: _a history of modern liberty_. vol. . the age of the reformation. . l. cardauns: _die lehre vom widerstandsrecht des volkes gegen die rechtmässige obrigkeit im luthertum und im calvinismus des sechzehnten jahrhunderts_. . r. chauviré: _jean bodin, auteur de la république_. . j. kreutzer: _zwinglis lehre von der obrigkeit_. . f. meinecke: "luther über christlichen geminwesen und christlichen staat," _historische zeitschrift_, band , pp. ff, . j. faulkner: "luther and economic questions," _papers of the am. ch. hist. soc._, d ser. vol. ii, . k. d. macmillan: _protestantism in germany_. . k. sell: "der zusammenhang von reformation und politischer freiheit." _abh. in theolog. arbeiten aus dem rhein. wiss. predigerverein_. neue folge. . . l. h. waring: _the political theories of martin luther_. . g. von schulthess-rechberg: _luther, zwingli und calvin in ihren ansichten über das verhältnis von staat und kirche_. . k. rieker: "staat und kirche nach lutherischer, reformierter, moderner anschauung," _hist. vierteljahrschrift_, i, ff. . e. troeltsch: _die soziallehren der christlichen kirchen und gruppen_. . h. l. osgood: "the political ideas of the puritans." _political science quarterly_, vi, . e. treumann: _die monarchomachen_. _erne darstellung der revolutionären staatslehren des xvi jahrhundert - _. . a. elkan: _die publizistik der bartholomäusnacht und mornays vindiciae contra tyrannos_. . h. d. foster: "the political theories of the calvinists," _american historical review_, xxi, ff. ( ). paul van dyke: "the estates of pontoise," _english historical review_, , pp. ff. e. armstrong: "political theory of the huguenots," _english historical review_, iv, ff, . k. gläser: "beiträge zur geschichte der politischen literatur frankreichs in der zweiten hälfte des . jahrhundert." _zeitschrift für französische sprache und literatur_. vols. , , , , ; - . w. sohm: "die soziallehren melanchthons." _historische zeitschrift_, cxv, pp. - . . lord acton: _history of freedom_, pp. - . (reprint of introduction to l. a. burd's edition of the prince of machiavelli.) . john morley: _miscellanies_, th series. . ff. "machiavelli." dr. armaingaud: _montaigne pamphlétaire_. _l'Énigme du contr'un_. . j. jastrow: "kopernikus' münz- und geld-theorie." _archiv für sozialwissenschaft und sozialpolitik_, xxxviii, ff. . k. kautsky: _communism in central europe in the time of the reformation_. . e. jenks: _a short history of english law_. . a. esmein: _histoire du droit français_.[ ] . (and later editions). s. schröder: deutsche rechtsgeschichte.[ ] . walter platzhoff: _die theorie von der mordbefugnis der obrigkeit im xvi. jahrhundert_. ebinger's historische studien, . o. h. pannkoke: "_the economic teachings of the reformation_." in a collection of essays entitled _four hundred years_, . g. schmoller: _zur geschichte der nationalökonomischen ansichten in deutschland während der reformationsperiode_. . f. g. ward: _darstellung und würdigung der ansichten luthers über staat und gesellschaft_. . section . _science_ j. p. richter: _the literary works of leonardo da vinci_. vols. . _les manuscrits de léonard de vinci de la bibliothèque de l'institut_. publiés en facsimile avec transcription littérale, traduction française . . . par ch. ravaisson-molien. vols. - . _leonardo da vinci's notebooks_; arranged and rendered into english by e. mccurdy. . leonardo de vinci: _notes et dessins sur la génération_. . léonard de vinci: _feuillets inédits conservés à windsor_. vols. ff. _institute di studi vinciani:--per il ivo centenario della morte di leonardo da vinci_. . a. c. klebs: _leonardo da vinci and his anatomical studies_. . hieronymi cardani: _opera omnia_. . vols. w. w. r ball: _a short account of the history of mathematics_. . m. cantor: _vorlesungen über geschichte der mathematik_. vol. ( - ). . h. g. zeuthen: _geschichte der mathematik in . und . jahrhundert_. . articles, "algebra" and "mathematics" in _encyclopedia britannica_. maximilien marie: _histoire des sciences mathématiques et physiques_, vols. and . - . f. cajori: _history of mathematics_.[ ] . david e. smith: _rara arithmetica_. a catalogue of the arithmetics written before the year mdci, with a description of those in the library of g. a. plimpton. . f. dannemann: _grundriss einer geschichte der naturwissenschaften_.[ ]. vols. . w. a. locy: _biology and its makers_.[ ] . w. a. locy: _the main currents of zoölogy_. . e. l. greene: _landmarks of botanical history_. part . . (smithsonian miscellaneous collections, vol. ). j. v. carus: _geschichte der zoölogie bis auf joh. müller und ch. darwin_. . f. cajori: _a history of physics in its elementary branches_. . conradi gesneri: _historiae animalium_, libb. iii, vols. - . wm. gilbert . . . _on the loadstone and magnetic bodies_ . . . a translation by p. f. mottelay. . e. gerland: _geschichte der physik von den ältesten zeiten bis zum ausgange des achtzehnten jahrhunderts_. . (work of high philosophical and scientific value). j. c. brown: _a history of chemistry from the earliest times till the present day_. . f. j. moore: _a history of chemistry_. . t. e. thorpe: _a history of chemistry_. vols. - . _quaestiones novae in libellum de sphaera johannis de sacro bosco, collectae ab ariele bicardo_. wittenberg, . (library of mr. g. a. plimpton, new york). s. günther: _geschichte der erdkunde_. . articles, "geography" and "map" in _encyclopaedia britannica_. l. gallois: _les géographes allemands de la renaissance_, . _n. copernici de revolutionibus orbium caelestium_ libri vi. (first edition ; i use the edition of basle, ). l. prowe: _nikolaus coppernicus_. vols. - . (standard). wohlwill: "melanchthon und kopernicus," in _mitteilungen zur geschichte der medizin und der naturwissenschaften_, iii, , . _luther on copernicus_, bindseil: lutheri colloquia, vols. - , vol. ii, p. . (this is the best text; the stronger form of the same saying, in which luther called copernicus a fool, seems to have been retouched by aurifaber). a. d. white: _the warfare of science and theology_, vols. . vol. i, pp. ff. a. müller: _nikolaus copernicus_. . dorothy stimson: _the gradual acceptance of the copernican theory of the universe_. . (excellent). w. w. bryant: _history of astronomy_. . article, "navigation," in _encyclopaedia britannica_. section . _philosophy_ the works of luther, melanchthon, calvin, zwingli, &c. _the workes of sir thomas more_, . (passage quoted, p. h). _de trinitatis erroribus per m. servetum_. (printed, ; i use the ms copy at harvard). _m. serveti christianismi restitutio_. (i use the ms copy at harvard). e. p. k. müller: _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_. . _canons and decrees of the council of trent_, translated by t. a. buckley. . thomas cajetan's commentary on aquinas, in the standard edition of the _summa_, ff. _catechism of the council of trent_, translated into english by j. donovan. . altensteig: _lexicon theologicum_. . a. harnack: _a history of dogma_, translated from the third edition by n. buchanan. vols. . a. harnack: _lehrbuch der dogmengeschichte_.[ ] . vol. iii. e. troeltsch: _geschichte der christlichen religion_. . (kultur der gegenwart). e. m. jones: _spiritual reformers of the th and th centuries_. . o. ritschl: _dogmengeschichte des protestantismus_, i, ii, hälfte, . a. c. mcgiffert: _protestant thought before kant_. . j. gottschick: _luther's theologie_. . francis bacon: _novum organum_, bk. i, aphorisms xv, lxv, and lxxix; essays i, (truth), iii, (of unity in religion), xxxv, (prophecy). advancement of learning, bk. ix. _montaigne's essays_, passim (numerous editions and excellent english translation by florio). w. lyly: _euphues and atheos_ (edited by e. arber, ). r. ascham: _the schoolmaster_. . _janssen-pastor_[ ] ii, f (on the godless painters of nuremberg; cf. also m. thausing: a dürer, translated by f. a. eaton, , ii. f.) françois rabelais: _oeuvres_ (numerous editions and translations). j. m. robertson: _a short history of freethought_.[ ] vols. . _colloque de jean bodin des secrets caches et des choses sublimes_. traduction française du colloquium heptaplomeres, par r. chauviré. . f. von bezold: "jean bodins colloquium heptaplomeres und der atheismus des . jahrhunderts," _historische zeitschrift_, cxiii, - . _jordani bruni opera_, ed. fiorentino. vols. - . _giordano brunos gesammelte werke, verdeutscht und erläutert von l. kuhlenbeck_. vols. - . w. boulting: _giordano bruno: his life, thought and martyrdom_. ( ). l. kuhlenbeck: _giorduno bruno, seine lehre von gott, von der unsterblichkeit und von der willensfreiheit_. . w. pater: _gaston de la tour_. . j. r. charbonnel: _l'Éthique de giordano bruno et le deuxième dialogue de spaccio_, traduction. . j. owen: _the skeptics of the italian renaissance_.[ ] . j. owen: _the skeptics of the french renaissance_. . a. m. fairbairn; "tendencies of european thought in the age of the reformation," _cambridge modern history_, ii, chap. . _allegemeine geschichte der philosophie_. (kultur der gegenwart, teil i, abt. v.) . w. windelband: die neuere philosophie. e. cassirer: _das erkenntnisproblem in der philosophie und wissenschaft der neuen zeit_. vol. i.[ ] . (excellent. first edition, - ). r. adamson: _a short history of logic_. . h. höffding: _a history of modern philosophy_. english translation. vols. . r. eucken: _the problem of human life as viewed by the great thinkers_. english translation. . j. m. baldwin: _dictionary of philosophy and psychology_. vols. - . j. r. charbonnel: _la pensée italienne au xvie siècle_. . a. bonilla y san martin: _luis vives y la filosofía del renacimiento_. . chapter xiii the temper of the times section . _tolerance and intolerance_ lord acton: _the history of freedom_. . "the protestant theory of persecution," pp. - . (essay written in ). t. ruffini: _religious liberty_, translated by j. p. heyes. . n. paulus: _protestantismus und toleranz_. . g. l. burr: "anent the middle ages." _american historical review_. , pp. - . p. wappler: _die stellung kursachsens und philipps von hessen zur täuferbewegung_. . _encyclopaedia of religion and ethics_, ix, s. v. "persecution." s. castellion: traité des hérétiques. a savoir, si on les doit persécuter. ed. a. olivet. genève. . p. wappler: inquisition und ketzerprozess zu zwickau. . j. a. faulkner: "_luther and toleration_," _papers of american church history society_, second series, vol. iv, pp. ff. . k. völker: _toleranz und intoleranz im zeitalter der reformation_. . w. e. h. lecky: _a history of the rise and influence of the spirit of rationalism in europe_. vols. . chapter iv, "persecution" (in vols. and both). _erasmi opera_, , ix, ff. proposition iii. h. hermelinck: _der toleranzgedanke_. . _the workes of sir thomas more_, , pp. ff. (a dialogue of sir thomas more, ). montaigne: _essays_, book ii, no. xix. a. j. klein: _intolerance in the reign of elizabeth_. . r. lewin: _luther's stellung zu den juden_. . r. h. murray: _erasmus and luther: their attitude to toleration_. . section . _witchcraft_ _papers of the american historical association_, iv, pp. - . bibliography of witchcraft by g. l. burr. n. paulus: hexenwahn und hexenprozess, vornehmlich im . jahrhundert. . g. l. burr: _the witch persecutions_. translations and reprints issued by the university of pennsylvania, vol. , no. , . g. l. burr: _the fate of dietrich flade_. . j. hansen: _zauberwahn, inquisition und hexenprozess im mittelalter, und die entstehung der grossen hexenverfolgung_. . f. von bezold: "jean bodin als okkultist und seine demonomanie." _historische zeitschrift_, cv. ff. ( ). gosson: _the school of abuse_ ( ), ed. e. arber, , p. . de praestigiis demonum . . . authore joanne wiero . . . . johannis wieri: _de lamiis_. . reginald scott: _the discoverie of witchcraft, wherein the lewde dealing of witches and witchmongers is notably detected . . . whereunto is added a treatise upon the nature and substance of spirits and devils_. . reprinted by b. nicholson, . w. notestein: _a history of witchcraft in england - _. . w. e. h. lecky: _a history of the rise and influence of the spirit of rationalism in europe_. vols. . vol. , chaps. i, and ii. montaigne: _essays_, vol. iii, no. xi. h. c. lea: _a history of the inquisition in the middle ages_. vol. iii, ff. g. l. kittredge: "a case of witchcraft," _american historical review_, xxiii, pp. ff, . c. mirbt: _quellen zur geschichte des papsttums und des römischen katholizismus_.[ ] . p. . (bull, summis desiderantes). g. roskoff: _geschichte des teufels_. . a. graf: _il diavolo_. . h. c. lea: _the inquisition in spain_, , vol. iv, chaps. and . _statutes of the realm_, eliz. : an act agaynst inchantmentes and witchcraftes. ( - ). t. de cauzons: _la magie et la sorcellerie en france_. vols. ( ). e. klinger: _luther und der deutsche volksaberglaube_. . (palaestra, vol. ). section . _education_ _album academiae vitebergensis - _, band i, ed. k. e. förstemann, . band ii, . band iii indices, . (reprint of vol. i, ). j. c. h. weissenborn: _akten der erfurter universität_. vols. . g. buchanan: "anent the reformation of the university of st. andros," in _buchanan's vernacular writings_, ed. p. hume brown, . _the statutes of the faculty of arts and of the faculty of theology at the period of the reformation, of st. andrews' university_, ed. r. k. hannay, . k. hartfelder: _melancthoniana paedogogica_. . f. v. n. painter: _luther on education_, including a historical introduction and a translation of the reformer's two most important educational treatises. . _mandament der keyserlijcker maiesteit, vuytghegeven int jaer xlvi_. louvain. . ( facsimiles printed for a. m. huntington at the de vinne press, n. y., . contains lists of books allowed in schools in the netherlands). c. borgeaud: _histoire de l' université de genève_. vols. , . j. m. höfer: _die stellung des des. erasmus und j. l. vives zur pädagogik des quintilian_. (erlangen dissertation). . f. watson: _vives and the renascence education of women_. . p. monroe: _cyclopedia of education_. vols. - . k. a. schmid: _geschichte der erziehung vom anfang bis auf unserer zeit_. vols. in . - . (standard). a. zimmermann: _die universitäten englands im . jahrhundert_. . a. zimmermann: _england's "öffentliche schulen" von der reformation bis zur gegenwart_, (stimmen aus maria-lach. vol. ). f. p. graves: _a history of education during the middle ages and the transition to modern times_. . "die frequenz der deutschen universitäten in früherer zeit," _deutsches wochenblatt_, , pp. ff. p. monroe: a text-book of the history of education. . (standard text-book). w. s. monroe: _a bibliography of education_. . g. mertz: _das schulwesen der deutschen reformation_. . f. paulsen: _geschichte des gelehrten unterrichts in deutschland_.[ ] vols. - . w. sohm: _die schule johann sturms_. . j. ficker: _die anfänge der akademischen studien in strassburg_. . _shakespeare's england_, . vols. ch. "education" by sir j. e. sandys. a. roersch: _l' humanisme belge à l' époque de la renaissance_. . sir t. elyot: _the boke named the governour_. . (new edition by h. h. s. croft. vols. ). _melanchthonis opera omnia_, xi, ff. "declamatio de corrigendis adolescentiae studies." ( ). e. ascham: _the schole master_. . (i use the reprint in the english works of r. ascham, ed. j. bennet, ). m. fournier: _les statuts et privilèges des universités françaises depuis leur fondation jusqu'en _. vols. - . f. bacon: _the advancement of learning_, book ii. elizabethan oxford: reprints of rare tracts ed. by c. plumer. . _grace book [greek delta] containing records of the university of cambridge - _, ed. by j. venn. . _registres des procès-verbaux de la faculté de théologie de paris, pub. par a. clerval_. tome i. . ( - ). j. h. lupton: _a life of john colet_. new ed. . (first printed . on st. paul's school, pp. , ff.) w. h. woodward: _des. erasmus concerning the aim and method of education_. . (fine work). f. p. graves: _peter ramus and the educational reformation of the th century_. . _encyclopaedia britannica_, articles "universities" and "schools." altamira y crevea: _historia de españa_,[ ] iii, ff. ( ). f. gribble: _the romance of the cambridge colleges_. ( ). j. b. mullinger: _a history of the university of cambridge_. . g. c. brodrick: _a history of the university of oxford_. . c. headlam: _the story of oxford_. . w. h. woodward: _studies in education during the age of the renaissance_ - . a. bonilla y san martin: _luis vives y la filosofía del renacimiento_. . a. lefranc: histoire du collège de france depuis ses origines jusqu' à la fin du premier empire. . p. feret: _la faculté de théologie de paris_. _Époque moderne_. vols. - . w. friedensburg: _geschichte der universität wittenberg_. . section . _art_ very fine reproductions of the works of the principal painters of the time are published in separate volumes of the series, klassiker der kunst in gesamtausgaben, deutsche verlags-anstalt, stuttgart und leipzig. a brief list of standard criticisms of art, many of them well illustrated, follows: k. woermann: _geschichte der kunst aller zeiten und völker_. band .[ ] . s. reinach: _apollo_.[ ] . (also english translation. marvelously compressed and sound criticism). j. a. symonds: _the italian renaissance_. the fine arts. . l. pastor: _history of the popes_. (much on art at rome, passim). b. berenson: _north italian painters of the renaissance_. . b. berenson: _central italian painters of the renaissance_. . b. berenson: _the venetian painters of the renaissance_.[ ] . b. berenson: the florentine painters of the renaissance.[ ] . giorgio vasari: _lives of the most eminent painters, sculptors and architects_, newly translated by g. du c. de vere. vols. - . (other editions). e. lanciani: _the golden days of the renaissance in rome_. . e. müntz: histoire de l' art pendant la renaissance. vols. - . j. crowe and g. cavalcaselle: _history of italian painting_. ff. l. dimier: _french painting in the sixteenth century_. . l. f. freeman: _italian sculptors of the renaissance_. . h. janitschek: _geschichte der deutschen malerei_. . h. a. dickenson: _german masters of art_. . e. bertaux: _rome de l' avènement de jules ii à nos jours_.[ ] . m. reymond: _l' education de léonard_. . w. pater: "leonardo da vinci," in the volume called _the renaissance_, . (though much attacked this is, in my opinion, the best criticism of leonardo). s. freud: _leonardo da vinci_. . w. von seidlitz: _leonardo da vinci_. vols. . (excellent). osvald sirén: _leonardo da vinci_. . leonardo da vinci: _a treatise on painting_, translated from the italian by j. f. rigaud. london. . c. j. holmes: _leonardo da vinci_. _proceedings of the british academy_. . e. müntz: _raphael, sa vie, son oeuvre et son temps_. . w. pater: "raphael," in _miscellaneous studies_, . (first written : fine criticism). edward mccurdy: _raphael santi_. . h. grimm: _life of michael angelo_, tr. by f. e. bunnètt. vols. new ed. . crowe and cavalcasselle: _life and times of titian_. . h. thode: _michelangelo und das ende der renaissance_. vols. - . l. dorez: "nouvelles recherches sur michel-ange et son entourage," bibliothèque de l' École des chartes. vol. , pp. ff. ( ), vol. , pp. ff. ( ). romain roland: _vie de michel-ange_.[ ] . _the sonnets of michael angela buonarroti_, translated into english by j. a. symonds. (my copy, venice, has no date). r. w. emerson: _essay on michaelangelo_. a. dürer's _schriftliche nachlass_, ed. e. heidrich. . m. thausing: _a. dürer_.[ ] . (english translation from st ed. by f. a. eaton. ). _albrecht dürers niederländische reise_, hg. van j. veth und s. müller. vols. . a. b. chamberlain: _hans holbein the younger_. vols. . a. michel: _histoire de l'art depuis les premiers temps chrétiens jusqu' à nos jours_. vols. - . c. h. moore: _the character of renaissance architecture_. . r. bloomfield: _a history of french architecture from the reign of charles viii till the death of mazarin_. vols. . section . _belles lettres_ note: the works of the humanists, theologians, biblical and classical scholars, historians, publicists and philosophers have been dealt with in other sections of this bibliography. representative poets, dramatists and writers of fiction for the century (up to but not including the age of shakespeare in england or of henry iv in france) are the following: italian: ariosto, a. f. grazzini, m. bandello, t. tasso, berni, guarini. french: margaret of navarre, c. marot, rabelais, joachim du bellay, ronsard, montaigne. english: lyndesay, skelton, wyatt, surrey, anonymous poets in tottel's miscellany, sidney, e. spenser, donne, lyly, heywood, kyd, peele, greene, lodge, nash, marlowe. german: hans sachs, fischart, t. murner, anonymous till eulenspiegel and faustbuch, b. waldis. spanish: the picaresque novel, la vida de lazarillo de tormes y de sus fortunas y adversidades. portuguese: camoens. as it is not my purpose to give even a sketch of literary history, but merely to illustrate the temper of the times from the contemporary belles lettres, only a few suggestive works of criticism can be mentioned here. h. hallam: _introduction to the literature of europe in the th, th and th centuries_. - . (old, but still useful). j. a. symonds: _italian literature_. . g. lanson: _histoire de la littérature française_.[ ] . c. h. c. wright: _a history of french literature_. . c. thomas: _a history of german literature_. . e. wolff: _faust und luther_. . _the cambridge history of english literature_, vol. iii, renaissance and reformation. . j. j. jusserand: _histoire littéraire du peuple anglais_. tome ii, de la renaissance à la guerre civile. . (also english translation: a beautiful work). winifred smith: _the commedia dell' arte_. . (notable). a. tilley: _the literature of the french renaissance_. vols. . chapter xiv the reformation interpreted the purpose of the following list is not to give the titles of all general histories of the reformation, but of those books and articles in which some noteworthy contribution has been made to the philosophical interpretation of the events. many an excellent work of pure narrative character, and many of those dealing with some particular phase of the reformation, are omitted. all the noteworthy historical works published prior to are listed in the bibliography to chapter xii, section , and are not repeated here. the chronological order is here adopted, save that all the works of each writer are grouped together. in every case i enter the book under the year in which it first appeared, adding in parentheses the edition, if another, which i have used. francis bacon ( - ): essay lviii; also essays i, iii, xxxv; novum organum bk. i, aphorisms xv and lxv; advancement of learning, bk. ix, and i. jacques-auguste de thou (thuanus): _historiae sui temporis_. - . hugo grotius: _annales et historiae de rebus belgicis_. . (written ff). william camden: _annales rerum anglicarnm et hibernicarum regnante elizabetha_. pars i, ; pars ii, . agrippa d'aubigné: _histoire universelle_. - . paolo sarpi: _istoria del concilio tridentino_. . (p. sarpi: histoire du concile du trente, french translation by amelot de la houssaie. ). arrigo caterino davila: _storia delle guerre civili di francia_. . giulio bentivoglio: _guerra di fiandria_. - . famiano strada: _de bello belgico decades duo_. - . francois eudes, [called] de mézeray: _histoire de france_. - . david calderwood ( - ): _history of the kirk of scotland_, ed. t. thompson, - . lord herbert of cherbury: _life and reign of henry viii_. . thomas fuller: _church history_, . (ed. brewer, vols. ). j. harrington: _oceana_, . (harrington's works, , pp. , ). sforza pallavicino: _istoria del concilio di trento_. - . _annales ecclesiastici . . . auctore reynaldo_, ed. j. d. mansi. tomi - . lucae. . (oderic reynaldus, who died , was a continuator of baronius, covering the period in church history - ). jean claude: défense de la réformation. . . . . (english translation: an historical defense of the reformation. ). gilbert burnet: _history of the reformation of the church of england_. vols. , , . (ed. by pocock, vols. ff). louis maimbourg: _histoire du luthéranisme_. . pierre jurieu: _histoire du calvinisme et celle du papisme mises en parallèle_. . (english translation, vols. ). veit ludwig von seckendorf: _commentarius historicus et apologeticus de lutheranismo_. - . jacques benigne bossuet: _histoire des variations des églises protestantes_. . (i have used the editions of and ). pierre bayle: _dictionnaire historique et critique_, ., s.v. "luther," "calvin," &c. gabriel daniel: _histoire de france_. . jeremy collier: _ecclesiastical history_, vols. - . (ed. lathbury, vols. ). rapin thoyras: _histoire d'angleterre_. ff. johann lorenz mosheim: _institutiones historiae christianae recentiores_. . montesquieu: _esprit des lois_, , livre xxiv, chaps. , , ; livre xxv, chap. , , . frederick ii (called the great) of prussia: _de la superstition et de la religion_. . (oeuvres, , i, ff). voltaire: _essai sur les moeurs et l' esprit des nations, et sur les principaux faits de l' histoire depuis charlemagne jusqu'à louis xiii_. . (_cf_. also a passage in his dictionnaire philosophique). david hume: _history of england from the invasion of julius caesar to the revolution of _. the volumes on the tudor period came out in . william robertson: _a history of scotland_. . william robertson: _history of the reign of the emperor charles v_. . edward gibbon: _the decline and fall of the roman empire_. - . (on the reformation, chap. liv, end). _encyclopédie_, , s.v. "luthéranisme." (anonymous article). johann gottfried von herder: _das weimarische gesangbuch_, , vorrede. herder: _briefe das studium der theologie betreffend_, . (sämtliche werke, teil ). herder: _briefe zur beförderung der humanität_, - . (samtliche werke, teil ). michael ignaz schmidt: _geschichte der deutschen_. aeltere geschichte (to ), ff. neuere geschichte ( - ), ff. jakob gottlieb planck: _geschichte des protestantischen lehrbegriffs_, vols. - . [m. j. a. n. de caritat, marquis] de condorcet: _esquisse d'un tableau historique des progrès de l' Ésprit humain_. . (i use the fourth edition, , pp. ff.) f. a. de chateaubriand: _essai historique sur les révolutions_, . (oeuvres, ). chateaubriand: _analyse raisonnée de l'histoire de france_. (oeuvres, , tome ). friedrich von hardenberg (called novalis): _die christenheit oder europa_, (novalis' schriften hg. von minor, , band ii. also english translation). johann wolfgang von goethe ( - ): _sämtliche werke_, jubiläumsausgabe, no date, stuttgart and berlin, i, and ii, , and other obiter dicta for which see the excellent index. see also gespräche mit eckermann, , english translation in bohn's library, p. . friedrich schiller: _geschichte des abfalles der vereinigten niederlande von der spanischen regierung_. . ( d ed., much changed, ; translation in bohn's library). cf. also schiller's letter to goethe, sept. , , in schiller's briefe, hg. von f. jonas, , vi, . christoph martin wieland ( - ). his opinion, in is given in _diary &c of henry crabb robinson_, ed. t. sadler, vols., , i, , and in "charakteristik lulhers," in pantheon der deutschen, . charles de villers: _essai sur l'esprit et l'influence de la réforme de luther_. . (english translation by james mill, ). william roscoe: _life and pontificate of leo x_. . j. g. fichte: _reden an die deutsche nation_, . nr. . mme. de staël: _de l'allemagne_. . e. m. arndt: _ansichten und aussichten der deutschen geschichte_. . arndt: _vom worte und vom kirchenliede_. . arndt: _christliches und türkisches_. , pp. ff. arndt: _vergleichende völkergeschichte_. . friedrich von schlegel: _geschichte der alten und neuen literatur_. . (sämtliche werke, , ii, ff). schlegel: _philosophie der geschichte_. . (english translation in bohn's library). joseph de maistre: _de l'église gallicane_. , cap. . (oeuvres, , ii, ff). de maistre: _lettres sur l'inquisition espagnole_. ff. (oeuvres ii). john lingard: _history of england_, vols. , . ff. g. w. f. hegel: _philosophie der geschichte_. lectures delivered first - , published as vol. ix of his werke by e. gans, . (english translation by j. sibree, , in bohn's library). leopold von ranke: _geschichte der romanischen und germanischen völker von - _. band i, (bis ). . appendix: zur kritik neuerer geschichtschreiber. ranke: _die römischen päpste, ihre kirche und ihr staat im xvi. und xvii. jahrhiindert_. - . (many editions and translations of this and other works of ranke). ranke: _deutsche geschichte im zeitalter der reformation_. - . ranke: _zwölf bücher preussischer geschichte_. band i und ii, . ranke: _die osmannen und die spanische monarchie im . und . jahrhundert_. . c. h. de rouvroy, comte de saint-simon: _nouveau christianisme_, oeuvres, , vii, ff. (written ). henry hallam: _constitutional history of england from the accession of henry vii to the death of george ii_. . hallam: _introduction to the literature of europe in the th, th and th centuries_. - . a. thierry: _vingt-cinq letters sur l'histoire de france_. . françois-pierre-guillaume guizot: _histoire de la civilisation en europe_. . (english transl. by hazlitt. ). guizot: _histoire de la civilisation en france_. vols. . philipp marheineke: _geschichte der deutschen reformation_. vols. - . heinrich leo: _geschichte der niederlanden_. vols. - . leo: _lehrbuch der universalgeschichte_, vols. - . friedrich von raumer: _geschichte europas seit dem ende des . jahrhundert_. - . a. vinet: _moralistes des . and . siècles_. (lectures given - ). h. martin: _histoire de france_. - . heinrich heine: _zur geschichte der religion und philosophie in deutschland_. . jules michelet: _memoires de luther écrits par lui-même, traduits et mis en ordre_. . michelet et quinet: _les jésuites_. . michelet: _histoire de france_, vols. - , ff. j. h. merle d'aubigné: _histoire de la réformation du . siècle_. vols. - . (english translation, ). thomas babington macauley: "on ranke's history of the popes," , published in his _essays_, . there are also remarks on the effect of the reformation in his _history of england_, ff. john carl ludwig gieseler: _lehrbuch der kirchengeschichte_. band iii, abteilung , . (many later editions, and an english translation). jaime balmes: _el protestantismo comparado con el catolicismo en sus relaciones con la civilizacion europea_. vols. - . (english translation as, protestantism and catholicism compared, d ed. ). thomas carlyle: _heroes and hero-worship_. . philarète chasle: "la renaissance sensuelle: luther, rabelais, skelton, folengo," _revue des deux mondes_, march, . edgar quinet: _le génie des religions_. . quinet: (see michelet). quinet: _le christianisme et la révolution française_. . johann joseph ignaz von döllinger: _die reformation_. vols. - . döllinger: _luther, eine skizze_. . döllinger: _kirche und kirchen_. , p. . döllinger: _vorträge über die wiedervereinigungsversuche zwischen den christlichen kirchen und die aussichten einer künftigen union_. . f. c. baur: _lehrbuch der christlichen dogmengeschichte_. . baur: _die epochen der kirchlichen geschichtschreibung_. . baur: _geschichte der christlichen kirche_, band iv, . e. forcade: "la réforme et la révolution," _revue des deux mondes_, feb. . william corbbett: _a history of the protestant "reformation" in england and ireland, showing how that event has impoverished and degraded the main body of the people in these countries_. . napoleon roussel: _les nations catholiques et les nations protestantes comparées sous le triple rapport du bien-être, des lumières et de la moralité_. . william h. prescott: _history of the reign of philip ii, king of spain_. - . john lothrop motley: _the rise of the dutch republic_. . motley: _history of the united netherlands from the death of william the silent to the synod of dort_. - . motley: _life and death of john of barneveldt_. . james anthony froude: _history of england from the fall of wolsey to the death of elizabeth_. (later: to the spanish armada). - . froude: _short studies on great subjects_. - . froude: _the divorce of catharine of aragon_. . froude: _the life and letters of erasmus_. . froude: _lectures on the council of trent_. . henry thomas buckle: _history of civilization in england_. - . paul de lagarde: "ueber das verhältnis des deutschen staates zu theologie, kirche und religion." _deutsche schriften_, , pp. ff. (written in , first printed ). david friedrich strauss: _ulrich von hutten_. . gustav freytag: _bilder aus der deutschen vergangenheit_. - . ferdinand gregorovius: _geschichte der stadt rom im mittelalter_. - . lord acton: many essays and articles, beginning about , mostly collected in his _history of freedom and other essays_, , and _historical essays and studies_, . acton: _lectures on modern history_. . (i use the edition; the lectures were delivered in - ). acton: _letters to mary gladstone_, ed. h. paul, . jacob burckhart: _die cultur der renaissance in italien_. . (english translation by s. g. c. middlemore, ). twentieth ed. by l. geiger, . w. stubbs: _lectures on european history_. . (delivered - ). françois laurent: _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_. vols. vol. viii: la réforme. (no date, circa ). vol. xvii: la religion de l'avenir. . vol. xviii: philosophie de l'histoire. . (pp. ff). john william draper: _history of the intellectual development of europe_. . draper: _history of the conflict of science and religion_. . w. e. h. lecky: _history of the rise and influence of the spirit of rationalism in europe_. . k. p. w maurenbrecher: _karl v und die deutschen protestanten_. . maurenbrecher: _england im reformationszeitalter_. . maurenbrecher: _studien und skizzen zur geschichte der reformationszeit_. . maurenbrecher: _geschichte der katholischen reformation_. . henry charles lea: _superstition and force_. . lea: _historical sketch of sacerdotal celibacy_. . lea: _chapters from the religious history of spain connected with the inquisition_. . lea: _history of auricular confession and indulgences in the latin church_. . lea: _history of the inquisition in spain_. - . lea: "the eve of the reformation," _cambridge modern history_, ii, . ludwig häusser: _geschichte des zeitalters der reformation_. - . frederic seebohm: _the oxford reformers_, . seebohm: _the era of the protestant revolution_. . h. h. milman: _savonarola, erasmus and other essays_. . eichhoff: dr. martin luther: _ stimmen namhafter männer aus jahrhunderten_. . george park fisher: _the reformation_. . (new ed. ). john richard green: _short history of the english people_. . green: _history of the english people_, vols. - . john addington symonds: _the renaissance in italy_, vols. - . symonds: "renaissance," article in _encyclopaedia britannica_, th, th, th ed. johannes janssen: _geschichte des deutschen volkes seit dem ausgange des mittelalters_, - . (twentieth ed. of vols. , ; eighteenth ed. of vols. - , by l. pastor, ff). emile de laveleye: _le protestantisme et le catholicisme dans leurs rapports avec la liberté et la prosperité des peuples_, . richard watson dixon: _history of the church of england from the abolition of the roman jurisdiction_, vols. - . friedrich nietzsche: _menschliches, allzumenschliches_. , p. . nietzsche: _die fröhliche wissenschaft_. , sections , , , . (and other obiter dicta, cf. werke, vii, ). pasquale villari: _niccolò machiavelli e i suoi tempi_. . (english transl., ). ludwig (von) pastor: _die kirchliche unionsbestrebungen unter karl v_, . pastor: _geschichte der päpste seit dem ausgange des mittelalters_, vols. - . (english translation of german vols. - , making vols, ed. by antrobus and kerr). h. m. baird: _the rise of the huguenots in france_. . baird: _the huguenots and henry of navarre_. . georg christian bernhard pünjer: _geschichte der christlichen religionsphilosophie seit der reformation_. bände. - . (english translation of the first volume as, _history of the christian philosophy of religion from the reformation to kant_, by w. hastie. ). j. e. thorold rogers: _history of agriculture and prices in england_, vol. iv, , pp. ff. rogers: _the economic interpretation of history_, , pp. ff. k. w. nitzsch: _geschichte des deutschen volkes bis zum augsburger religionsfriede_, hg. von matthäi, - . heinrich von treitschke: "luther und die deutsche nation," . (english translation in _germany, france, russia and islam_, , ff. other criticisms of the reformation may be found in his other works, e.g., _deutsche geschichte im . jahrhundert_, teil,[ ] , pp. , ). charles beard: _the reformation of the sixteenth century in its relation to modern thought and knowledge_. . a. stern: _die socialisten der reformationszeit_. . matthew arnold: _st. paul and protestantism_. . adolf (von) harnack: _martin luther in seiner bedeutung für die geschichte der wissenschaft und der bildung_. (fifth ed. ). harnack: _m. luther und die grundlegung der reformation_. . harnack: _lehrbuch der dogmengeschichte_, band iii, . (fourth ed. , and english translation by neil buchanan, ). harnack: _das wesen des christentums_. . (english translation, _what is christianity_? ). harnack: "die bedeutung der reformation innerhalb der allgemeinen religionsgeschichte," _reden und aufsätze_, baud ii, teil ii, . harnack: "die reformation," _internationale monatsschrift_, xi, . m. monnier: _la réforme, de luther à shakespeare_. (histoire de la littérature moderne). . leo tolstoy: _thoughts and aphorisms_. - . tolstoy's works, english, , xix, f. philip schaff: _history of the christian church_. vol. vi, the german reformation. . vol. vii, the swiss reformation. . f. von bezold: _die reformation_. . (in oncken's allgemeine geschichte in einzeldarstellungen). f. von bezold, e. gotheim und r. koser: _staat und gesellschaft der neueren zeit_. . (die kultur der gegenwart, teil ii, abteilung v). william cunningham: _growth of english industry and commerce during the early and middle ages_. . (fourth ed. ). cunningham: _growth of english industry and commerce in modern times_. . ( d ed. ). cunningham: _western civilization in its economic aspects in ancient times_. . cunningham: _western civilization in its economic aspects in modern times_. . (i also have the advantage of having taken notes of dr. cunningham's lectures at columbia university, november, ). rudolph cristoph eucken: _die lebensanschauungen der grossen denker_. . ( th ed. : english translation, _the problem of human life_, by w. hough and boyce gibson, ). f. simmel: _soziale differenzierung_. . robert flint: history of the philosophy of history. . c. borgeaud: _the rise of modern democracy in old and new england_. translated by mrs. b. hill. preface by c. h. firth. . (first published in french periodicals - ). herbert l. osgood: "the political ideas of the puritans," _political science quarterly_, vi, ff., ff., . wilhelm dilthey: "auffassung und analyse des menschen im . und . jahrhundert." _archiv für die geschichte der philosophie_, iv, ( ) ff., v, ( ), ff. dilthey: "die glaubenslehre der reformatoren," _preussiche jahrbücher_, lxxv, ( ), pp. ff. dilthey: "weltanschauung und analyse des menschen seit renaissance und reformation." _gesammelte schriften_, ii, . e. a. freeman: historical essays, th series, . karl lamprecht: _zum verstãndnis der wirtschaftlichen und sozialen wandlungen in deutschland vom. . bis zum . jahrhundert_. . lamprecht: _deutsche geschichte_, band , - . otto pfleiderer: _philosophy and development of religion_. (gifford lectures at edinburgh), , vol. ii, pp. ff. pfleiderer: "luther as the founder of protestant civilization." in _evolution and theology_, , pp. - . (address given ). e. belfort bax: _german society at the close of the middle ages_. . bax: _the peasants' war in germany_. . bax: _the rise and fall of the anabaptists_. . (large portions of the three works by bax have been reprinted in his _german culture past and present_. ). brooks adams: _the law of civilisation and decay_. . brooks adams: _the new empire_. . karl kautsky: _vorläufer des neuren sozialismus_, band i, "der kommunismus in der deutschen reformation," . (communism in central europe in the time of the reformation, transl. by j. l. and e. g. mulliken. ). a. berger: _die kulturaufgaben der reformation_. . ([ ] ). berger: _m. luther in kulturgeschichtlicher darstellung_, parts, , , . berger: _ursachen und ziele der deutschen reformation_. . berger: _sind humanismus und protestantismus gegensätzig?_ , h. hauser: "de l'humanisme et de la réforme en france," _revue historique_, july-aug. . karl sell: "die wissenschaftliche aufgaben einer geschichte der christlichen religion," _preussische jahrbücher_, xcviii. ( ), ff. sell: _christentum und weltgeschichte seit der reformation_. . sell: _der zusammenhang von reformation und politischer freiheit_. abhandlungen in theologischen arbeiten aus dem rheinischen wissenschaftlichen predigerverein. n. f. . . john mackinnon robertson: _a short history of freethought_. . ([ ] ). robertson: _a short history of christianity_. . ([ ] ). s. n. patten: _the development of english thought_. a study in the economic interpretation of history. . (fanciful). ferdinand brunetière: "l'oeuvre littéraire de calvin." _revue des deux mondes_, oct. , . brunetière: "l'oeuvre de calvin." ( ). _discours de combat_, ii, , pp. ff. williston walker: _the reformation_. . walker: _a history of the christian church_. . a. loisy: l'Évangile et l'Église. . (answer to harnack's wesen des christentums). a. lang: _history of scotland_, i, , p. . a. f. pollard: _henry viii_. . a. f. pollard: _thomas cranmer_. . pollard: _political history of england - _. . james gairdner: _the english church in the sixteenth century_ ( - ). . j. gairdner: chapters in the _cambridge modern history_, ii, . gairdner: _lollardy and the reformation_. vols. ff. mandell creighton: _a history of the papacy_, vol. , . e. armstrong: _the emperor charles v_. . h. lemonnier: _histoire de france_ (ed. par e. lavisse), v, - . james harvey robinson: "the study of the lutheran revolt," _american historical review_, viii, . . j. h. robinson: "the reformation," _encyclopaedia britannica_, . auguste sabatier: _les religions d'autorité et la religion de l'esprit_. . ([ ] . english translation ). (h. m.) alfred baudrillart: _l'Église catholique, la renaissance, le protestantisme_. . (english translation by mrs. philip gibbs. ). w. h. frere: _the english church in the reigns of elizabeth and james i_, . h. a. l. fisher: _a political history of england - _. . fisher: _the republican tradition in europe_, , pp. ff. j. h. mariéjol: _histoire de france_ (ed. par e. lavisse), tome vi, . e. p. cheyney: _the european background of american history_, , p. . o. hegemann: _luther in katholischem urteil_. . friedrich heinrich suso denifle: _luther and luthertum in der ersten entwicklung_, i, ; ii, hg. von a. m. weiss, . max weber: "die protestantische ethik und der 'geist' des kapitalismus," _archiv für sozialwissenschaft und sozialpolitik_, xx and xxi, . george santayana: _reason in religion_, , pp. - . santayana: _winds of doctrine_, , pp. - . santayana: _egotism in german philosophy_, , pp. ff., . p. imbart de la tour: _les origines de la réforme_, vols. - . p. imbart de la tour: "luther et l'allemagne," in _revue de métaphysique et morale_, , p. . david j. hill: _a history of diplomacy in the international development of europe_, vol. , , pp. f, . a. w. benn: _a history of english rationalism in the eighteenth century_, , pp. f. j. mackinnon: _a history of modern liberty_, vol. iii, the age of the reformation, . t. m. lindsay: _a history of the reformation_. vols. - . h. böhmer: _luther im lichte der neueren forschung_. . ( d. ed. , d. , th , each much changed). ernst troeltsch: _bedeutung des protestantismus für die entstehung der modernen welt_. . ( d ed. ; english translation, "protestantism and progress." ). troeltsch: _protestantisches christentum und kirche in der neuzeit_, . (kultur der gegenwart, i, teil iv, ). d ed. . troeltsch: "protestantismus und kultur," in _die religion in geschichte und gegenwart_, . troeltsch: _die soziallehren der christlichen kirchen und gruppen_, . troeltsch: "renaissance und reformation," _historische zeitschrift_, cx. ff., . troeltsch: "die kulturbedeutung des kalvinimus," _internationale wochenschrift_, iv, . troeltsch: "luther und der protestantismus," _neue rundschau_, oct. . t. brieger: "die reformation." in _weltgeschichte - _, ed. pflugk-harttung, . (published separately, enlarged, ). f. loofs: _luther's stellung zum mittelalter und zur neuzeit_. . horst stephan: _luther in den wandlungen seiner kirche_. . a. kalthoff: _das zeitalter der reformation_. . otto pfleiderer: _die entwicklung des christentums_. . joseph fabre: _la pensée moderne, de luther à leibnitz_. . f. lepp: _schlagwörter des reformationszeitalters_. . paul sabatier: _les modernistes_, (translated, _modernism_, , pp. ff). paul sabatier: _l'orientation religieuse de la france actuelle_, . (translated, _france today, its religious orientation_, , pp. - ). john morley: _miscellanies_, fourth series, , pp. ff. r. eckert: _luther im urteil bedeutender männer_. . ( d ed., expanded, ). e. boutroux: _science et religion dans la philosophie contemporaine_, , p. . l. zscharnack: "reformation und humanismus im urteil der deutschen aufklärung," _protestantische monatshefte_, , xii, ff, ff. f. rachfahl: "kalvinismus und kapitalismus," _internationale wochenschrift_, iii, . e. fueter: "die weltgeschichtliche bedeutung des calvinismus." _wissen und leben_, ii, , pp. ff. e. fueter: _geschichte der neueren historiographie_. . (french translation, ). e. fueter: _geschichte des europäischen staatensystems - _. . w. windelband: _allgemeine geschichte der philosophie_, p. . (_kultur der gegenwart_, teil i, abt. , ). solamon reinach: _orpheus_, . jacob salwyn schapiro: _social reform and the reformation_. . f. katzer: _luther und kant_. . emil knodt: _die bedeutung calvins und des calvinismus für die protestantische welt_. . jaeger: "germanisierung des christentums," _religion in geschichte und gegenwart_, . a. dide: _j. j. rousseau, le protestantisme et la révolution française_. ( ). j. rivain: _politique, morale, religion; sur l'esprit protestant; protestantisme et progrès; l'Église et l'État_. . c. burdach: "sinn und ursprung der worte renaissance und reformation." königliche-preussische akademie der wissenschaften, _sitzungsberichte_, , pp. - . w. köhler: _idee und persönlichkeit in der kirchengeschichte_. . w. köhler: "luther," in _morgenrot der reformation_, hg. von pflugk-harttung, . w. köhler: _martin luther und die deutsche reformation_. . w. köhler in _religion in geschichte und gegenwart_, . i, ff. köhler: "erasmus," . (_klassiker der religion_). köhler: _dr. m. luther, der deutsche reformator_. . h. t. andrews: "the social principles and effects of the reformation." in _christ and civilization_, ed. j. b. patten, sir p. w. bunting and a. e. garvie, . fernand mouret: _histoire générale de l'Église_. tome . la renaissance et la réforme. . ([ ] ). a. humbert: _les origines de la théologie moderne_, . hartmann grisar: _luther_. vols. - . preserved smith: _life and letters of martin luther_, . (especially the preface to the second edition, ). preserved smith: "justification by faith," _harvard theological review_, . preserved smith: "luther," _international encyclopaedia_, . preserved smith: "the reformation - ." _bibliotheca sacra_, jan. . preserved smith: "english opinion of luther," _harvard theological review_, . hillaire belloc: "the results of the reformation." _catholic world_, jan. . p. wernle: _renaissance und reformation_. . alfred plummer: _the continental reformation_. . maxime kowalewsky: _die ökonomische entwicklung europas bis zum beginn der kapitalistischen wirtschaftsform_. aus dem russischen überstezt von a. stein. vol. vi, , pp. ff. j. b. bury: _a history of freedom of thought_. . g. l. burr: "anent the middle ages," _american historical review_, . burr: "the freedom of history," _american historical review_, jan. . w. j. ashley: _economic organization of england_, , pp. ff. a. elkan: "entstehung und entwicklung des begriffs 'gegenreformation,'" _historische zeitschrift_, cxii, pp. - , . e. m. hulme: _the renaissance, the protestant revolution and the catholic reformation_. . (second ed. ). g. wolf: _quellenkunde der deutschen reformationsgeschichte_, vols. , . a. e. harvey: "economic self-interest in the german anti-clericalism of the th and th centuries," _american journal of theology_, . harvey: "economic aspects of the reformation," _lutheran survey_, aug. , , pp. - . harvey: "martin luther in the estimate of modern historians," _american journal of theology_, july, . w. p. paterson: "religion," chap. of _german culture_, ed. by w. p. paterson, . john dewey: _german philosophy and politics_. . h. cohen: _deutschtum und judentum_. . g. kawerau: _luther's gedanken über den krieg_. . g. monod: "la réforme catholique," _revue historique_, cxxi, , esp. pp. f. f. s. marvin: _progress and history_, . (essays by various authors). shailer mathews: _the spiritual interpretation of history_, , esp. pp. ff. frank puaux: "la réformation jugée par claude et jurieu." _bulletin de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme_, juillet-sept. . l. marchaud: _la réformation: ses causes, sa nature, ses consequences_. . n. weiss: "pour le quatrième centénaire de la réformation," _bulletin de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme_, , pp. ff. k. d. macmillan: _protestantism in germany_. . georg von below: _die ursachen der reformation_, . h. m. gwatkin: "reformation," in _encyclopaedia of religion and ethics_, . alfred fawkes: "papacy," _ibid._ max lenz: "luthers weltgeschichtliche stellung," _preussische jahrbücher_, clxx, . chalfant robinson: "some economic aspects of the protestant reformation doctrines." _princeton theological review_, october . arthur cushman mcgiffert: "luther and the unfinished reformation." address given at union seminary oct. , , published in the _union seminary bulletin_, . _revue de métaphysique et morale_, sept.-dec., . special number on the reformation with important articles by c. a. bernouilli, imbart de la tour, n. weiss, f. buisson, f. watson, frederic palmer, e. doumergue and others. w. k. boyd: "political and social aspects of luther's message," _south atlantic quarterly_, jan., . h. scholz: "die reformation und der deutsche geist." _preussische jahrbücher_, clxx, , . f. heiler: _luther's religionsgeschichtliche bedeutung_. . f. t. teggart: _the processes of history_, , pp. ff. lucy h. humphrey: "french estimates of luther," _lutheran quarterly_, april, . (interesting study). j. paquier: _luther et l'allemagne_. . wilbur cross abbott: _the expansion of europe - _. vols. . h. e. barnes: "history," _encyclopaedia americana_, . george foot moore: _history of religions: judaism, christianity, mohammedanism_. . p. hume brown: _surveys of scottish history_. . (essays posthumously collected). j. haller: _die ursachen der reformation_. . f. arnold: _die deutsche reformation in ihren beziehungen zu den kulturverhältnissen des mittelalters_. . d. h. bauslin: _the lutheran movement of the sixteenth century_. . { } index aalst, . aberdeen, university of, . abgarus, . abyssinia, . acontius, j., . acton, lord, , , , , . adams, b., . adrian vi, pope, appeal to germany, f., . and luther, , . and inquisition, , , . pontificate, f., . in spain, . and art, . aerschot, duke of, . aeschylus, . aesop, . africa, , , , , f., , , , . agriculture, ff. agrippa of nettesheim, h. c., , , , f. aigle, . aix-in-provence, . alamanni, l., . albertinus, a., . albertus magnus, . albigenses, . albuquerque, a. d', . alcalá, university of, , , , . aleander, j., , , , , . alençon, . charles, duke of, . aleppo, . alesius, a., . alexander vi, pope, f., , , , . algiers, . allenstein, . almeida, f. d', . altdorf, . alva, duke of, defeats german protestants, . besieges metz, . regent of the netherlands, , ff., . and england, , , f. art of war, . amazon, . america, , , , , ff., , , , , . gold and silver from, ff. amboise, . tumult of, f. amboyna, . ameaux, . ammonius, a., . amsterdam, , , f., , . amyot, . anabaptists, . in germany, ff. and melanchthon, . and polygamy, . in sweden, . in poland, . in transylvania, . in switzerland, ff. in netherlands, , f., f., . in england, , , . in italy, , . and council of trent, . and bible, . communism, . persecuted, f. for toleration, . judged by bax and kautsky, . andalusia, f. andelot, . andrea del sarto, . anghierra, p. m. d', . anjou, francis, dnke of, f., , , . anne boleyn, queen of england, , f., , , f., , , . anne of cleves, queen of england, f. anne, queen of france, f. _anthology_, . antwerp, , ff., , f., , , , , , , , , . trade, ff., f., . charity, . art, . appenzell, . aquaviva, . aquinas, t., , , , , , , . arabs, f., . aragon, . arbuthnot, a., . archangel, . arcimboldi, . aretino, p., . argyle, earl of, . ariosto, , , , , ff., , . aristarchus, . aristophanes, . aristotle, , , f., , , , , , , , . reaction against, f. armentières, . armstrongs, . arndt, . arras, league of, ff. art, , , . [transcriber's note: ?] gothic, . rewards of artists, . history of, f. painting, ff. architecture, ff. reformation and counter-reformation, ff. artois, . arzila, . ascham, r., , f., f., f., , . ashley, . asia, f., , . aske, r., . askewe, a., . atahualpa, . atlantic, , , , . aubigné, m. d', . aubigné, t. a. d', f. augsburg, , , , . diet of ( ), , . diet of ( ), , ff. diet of ( ), , . diet of ( ), . religious peace of, , ff., , . confession, f., , , , , . banks, f., f. pauperism, f. augustine, , , , . augustinian friars, , , , . australia, . austria, ff., , , , . rudolph iv, duke of, . don john of, ff., . matthew, archduke of, ff. auvergne, . avicenna, . avignon, popes at, , . azores, , . aztecs, f. babington, a., . bacon, f., , , f., , , , , , . on effect of the reformation, f. baden, , . badius, j., . balboa, . baldwin, j., . bale, j., . balearic isles, . baltic, , . bamberg, , . bandini, p. a., . baptista mantuanus, . baptists, . barbarossa, . barbary, . barcelona, , . university of, , . barnabites, . barnes, r., . baronius, c., . barton, e., . basil iii, czar, . basle joins swiss confederacy, . center of humanism, , . reformation, f., , . council of, f., , , f., . university of, , . baur, f. c., f. bavaria, , , , , , . bax, b., f. baxter, r., , . bayard, . beard, c., . beaton, d., f., . beatus rhenanus, . becket, t., , . beda, n., . beirut, . beham, b., , . beham, h. s., , . belgium, , . belgrade, . bellay, j. du, , . bellay, m. du, , . bellay, r. du, . bellinis, . below, g. von, . bembo, p., , , . benedict, st., . bengal, . ben mosheh, g., . benn, a. w., . ber, l., . berger, a. e., . bernard, st., , . berne, ff., , f., f., f., , . berni, f., . berquin, l. de, . berthelier, p., . berwick, . berwickshire, . besançon, university of, . bessarion, . beucklessen, f. beza, t., , , , , , , , . bezold, . bible first printed, . number of editions, . vulgate, , , , , . french, , , , , . german, , , , , f., , f. english, f., , , , , , ff., , , f. swedish, . polish, . greek, , , , , ff. dutch, . spanish, . new latin translations, , f. italian, . hebrew, . complutensian polyglot, f. authority of, , f., , f., , ff. exegesis and criticism of, ff. by valla, , f. by lefèvre, f. by colet, . by reuchlin, . by erasmus, , ff. by luther, f. new translations condemned, , , , , ff. price of, . popularity, f. effect of bibliolatry, , f. illustrated by raphael, . _biblia pauperum_, , . biel, g., , . bijns, a., . bion, . blaurer, a., . blaurer, t., . blaurock, g., . blois, , . states general, . blue laws, ff., ff. boccaccio, f., . bodin, j., , , f., , . on religion, . on witchcraft, , f. boece, h., . bohemia, ff., , , . bohemian brethren, f., , . böhm, h., . böhmer, . boiardo, . bologna, . university of, , , , , . concordat of, f., , . bolsec, j., , , . bombasius, . boniface viii, pope, , , f. bonivard, . bonn, . bonner, . books numbers of, , f. prices of, . royalties, f. literature, - . borgeaud, c., . borgia family, , . caesar, , , . lucretia, , . borgia, f., . borneo, . borromeo, c., , . borthwick, d., note. bossuet, f. botero, j., . bothwell, earl of, ff. boucher, j., , , . bourbon, anthony of, , , . bourbon, charles, constable of, , , . bourbon, charles, cardinal of, . bourgeoisie, , , , ff. bourges, . university of, , . pragmatic sanction of, f. archbishop of, . boyneburg, . brabant, , , , , , . population, . brahe, t., . bramante, . brandenburg, , , . population, . joachim i, elector of, . joachim ii, elector of, , . albert of, grand master of the teutonic order, , . john, margrave of, . brandenburg-culmbach, albert of, . brant, s., . _ship of fools_, , . brantôme, , , , . brask, j., . brazil, , , , . breda, . brederode, . brentano, . brenz, . brescia, , , . brethren of the common life, , , . briçonnet, w., ff. brielle, . bristol, . brittany, , . brothers of mercy, . browne, r., . brück, g., . bruges, , . bruno, , , f. brunswick, henry, duke of, . brussels, , , , , ff., , , , , , , . bucer, m., , , , , , f., , , , , . buchanan, g., , f., , . buckingham, duke of, . buckle, h. t., . budé, w., , , f., , . bugenhagen, j., . bullinger, h., , , , , , , , , , , . burckhardt, j., . burghley, w. cecil, lord, , f., f., , . burgos, . burgundy, free county of, , , , , . philip the good, duke of, . charles the bold, duke of, . burgundy (france), . burnet, g., . burr, g. l., . busleiden, j., . butts, w., f. cabot, s., . cabral, . cabrières, . cadiz, , f. cairo, . cajetan, t. de vio, cardinal, , f., , , , . calais, , , , , calcagnini, c., . calderon, . calendar, reform of the, f. calicut, f. calixtus iii, pope, . calvin, g., . calvin, i., . calvin, j.: and _german theology_, . doctrine of the eucharist, , f. and lutherans, . and zwingli, , f., . and bohemian brethren, . early life, f. and erasmus, , . and luther, , f. conversion, . _institutes of the christian religion_, ff., , , , . doctrine of predestination, ff., . in italy, , . in geneva, ff., . at strassburg, . at colloquy of ratisbon, . marriage, . social reform, ff., . persecutes, ff., f. and servetus, f. international position, f. death and character, f. and french reformation, , , f. and rabelais, f. and french bible, . political theory, , , f., . influence in netherlands, . influence in england, , f., . influence in scotland, . and bolsec, . and council of trent, . and index, . on torture, . on amusements, . biblical exegesis, , . on usury, . and free thought, . and witchcraft, . and art, . judged by gibbon, f. judged by christie, . calvinism barred by peace of augsburg, . and lutheranism, , f. in scandinavia, . in poland, f. international, f. in france, ff. in netherlands, ff. in scotland, . in spain, . in italy, . political effect, , . and capitalism, f. camden, . cambrai treaty of, . archbishopric of, . cambridge, university of, , , , , . and reformation, f. cambridgeshire, . camoens, , f. campanus, . campeggio, . canisius, p., , . cano, s. del, . canon law, f., , , . canossa, . cape of good hope, , . cape verde islands, , . capitalism, - , - . and reformation, , f., . origins, ff. first great fortunes, f. banking, ff. mining, f. commerce, ff. manufacture, ff. gilds, ff. agriculture, ff. bourgeoisie, ff. proletariat, ff. pauperism, ff. capito, w., , , , , , . cappel first peace of, . battle of, f. capuchins, , . caracci, . caracciolo, m., . caraffa, j. p., see paul iv. cardan, j., f., . carlstadt, a. bodenstein of, , , , , , , , , , . carlyle, t., . carpi, berengar of, . cartier, j., , . cartwright, t., . cassander, , . castellio, s., , f. castiglione, b., , , . castile, , f. cateau-cambrésis, treaty of, , , . catechisms, , , , f. catharine of aragon, queen of england, , f., f., . catharine howard, queen of england, . catharine parr, queen of england, . catharine de' medici, queen of france, marriage, f. character, . policy, ff. "flying squadron," . and st. bartholomew, f. as seen by huguenots, f. death, . and pius v, . invents corsets, . and machiavelli, . and art, . judged by michelet, . catholic church (see also papacy and counter-reformation). revolt from, . history in later middle ages, - . heir of the roman empire, , . abuses, f. wealth, . temporal power, , , f. attacked by luther, , . intolerance, ff. celibacy, sacerdotal, effect on race, , . vow not kept, . rejected by wyclif, . repudiated by luther, , . in england, , . and inquisition, . cellarius, c., . cellini, b., , , , . censorship of the press, ff., f. cerdagne, . cerratani, b., . cervantes, , . ceuta, . ceylon, , . chambre ardente, f. chancellor, r., . chapuis, , . charles v, emperor, heir of burgundy and spain, , . elected emperor, . crowned, . religious policy, ff., ff., f., , note. conquers tunis, . war with france, , ff., , . schmalkaldic war, , . abdicates, , . in netherlands, , . suppresses rebellion of ghent, f. and england, ff., , f. and papacy, ff. and inquisition, . character, , . betrothed to mary tudor, . and moors, . and russia, . finance, . in spain, . and fuggers, . portrait, . charles viii, king of france, , . charles ix, king of france, , ff., f. charron, p., . chartres, . chateaubriand, edict of, . chaucer, g., . cheshire, . chesterton, g. k., . cheyney, e. p., f. chieregato, f., , . children, f., . china, . christian ii, king of denmark, norway, and sweden, . christian iii, king of denmark, , . christianity, , , , f. christie, r. c., . cicero, , , . ciceronians, f. cisneros, g. de, . civita vecchia, . clement of rome, . clement v, pope, . clement vii, pope, , . and charles v, , . and henry viii, , pontificate, ff., . forbids duelling, f. and copernicus, . and art, . clement viii, pope, . clenoch, m., . clergy morals, , f. power of, f. denounced by wyclif, . attacked in _gravamina_, . assailed by luther, . in netherlands, . reform in england, . in scotland, f., . pay of, . position of, ff. spoliation, f. cleves, . william, duke of, . clocks and watches, invention of, f., . cochin, d., . cochin (india), . cochin-china, . cochlaeus, , , . coeur, j., . cognac, league of, . cole of faversham, . colet, j., , , , f., , , . coligni, g. de, , , ff., . cologne, , , , , . university of, , , , , . reformation of, , , . counter-reformation of, . colonna family, . vittoria, . columbus, c., , f., , , f., f. commerce, ff., ff. communism, , . como, . compass, invention of, , f. compostella, . condé, prince of, , f. condorcet, . congo, . constance, council of, ends great schism, . deals with heresy, , f. reforms, f., . memory of, , , . constantinople, , , . consubstantiation, , . contarini, g., , , , , , . coornheert, d. v., , . cop, . copenhagen, university of, . copernicus, n. bible quoted against, . economic theory, . trigonometry, . life, . astronomy, , ff. _de revolutionibus orbium caelestium_, . reception of his theory, ff., . influence on philosophy, ff. cordus, e., . correggio, . corsica, . cortez, h., f. cossacks, f. cotta, u., . counter-reformation, - . turns back protestants, . spanish spirit, . and art, f. origin of word, . courtenay, w., . coutras, battle of, . coverdale, m., f., , , f. cox, r., . cracow, , . university of, . craig, j., . cranach, l., , . cranmer, t., , , f., f., . creighton, m., . crépy, peace of, , . crespin, . cromwell, t. alliance with france, . and reformation, , ff., ff., f. death, . fortune, . and machiavelli, . cuba, . cugnatis, i. de, . cumberland, . cunningham, w., . cusa, n. of, , , . damascus, . dancing, . daniel, g., . dante, , . danzig, f., . darnley, lord, f. dauphiné, . davila, . delft, . demonology, , ff. demosthenes, . denifle, . denmark and lübeck, . early emigration, . reformation, ff. population, . church property, . dessau, league of, . deventer, school, , . diaz, b., . digby, e., . digges, l., . dillenburg, , . dilthey, w., . diodorus, . dionysius the areopagite, , f. dispensations, papal, f. dolet, s., , , , f. döllinger, i., f. dominic, st., , . dominicans, , , , . donatus, latin grammar of, f., . dordrecht, . doria, a., . douai, , . drake, f., ff., . dress, f. drinking, , f. dublin, . dudley, edmond, . dudley, guilford, , . duelling, f. dundee, . durand, . dürer, a., . at basle, . in netherlands, , , ff., . and mexican spoils, . property, . art, ff. east indies, f., . eck, j., f., f., f., , . eckhart, f. edinburgh, f., , , . treaty of, f. education, - . method, f., f. curriculum, f. effect of reformation, f., . edward ii, king of england, . edward vi, king of england, foreign policy, . and reformation, . birth, . reign, - . and scotland, . a law of, . and gilds, . and bible, . schools, . accomplishments, . edwards, j., f. egmont, l., count of, , , , . egmont, n. of, . egypt, . einsiedeln, , . eisenach, , . eleanor, queen of france, . elizabeth, queen of england, and st. bartholomew, . and netherlands, , , . birth, . heir to the throne, f. character, . religious policy, ff., ff. refuses to marry, . foreign policy, ff. and popes, , f., f. and ireland, , . and knox, . and mary, queen of scots, . censorship, . government, , . navy, . dancing, . commercial policy, . and bible, . and liberty, f. skepticism, . tolerance, . accomplishments, . and universities, . and art, . and spenser, . elizabeth of valois, queen of spain, . ely, h., . elyot, t., , . emden, . emerson, r. w., . empson, r., , . emser, j., . england pays peter's pence, . church of, f., , . literature, . and french calvinists, , , . and netherlands, , f., , , , . foreign policy under henry viii, ff., , . reformation, ff., ff. reformation parliament, ff. dissolution of monasteries, f., . alliance with schmalkaldic league, f., f. pilgrimage of grace, ff. religious parties and statistics, , , , f., . book of common prayer, , f., , . social disorders, ff. catholic reaction, ff. war with france, , . conversion of masses to protestantism, f. thirty-nine articles, f., . finances, f., . war with spain, , ff., . rebellion of northern earls, f., . buccaneers, f., . puritanism, ff. and scotland, , f. censorship, . population, , . coinage, , . navy, , f. criminal law, f. army, . clergy, . brigandage, . commerce, f., ff. gilds, f. inclosures, ff. agriculture, ff. serfs, . regulation of labor, . poor-relief, f. and polydore vergil, . chronicles, . skeptics, ff. witchcraft, , . schools, f. universities, . enzinas, f., . epictetus, . _epistolae obscurorum virorum_, . erasmus, . _enchiridion militis christiani_, , , , . on worship of saints, f. and colet, . early life and works, - . _praise of folly_, . "philosophy of christ," , , . _colloquies_, f., f. latin style, f., f. foresees reformation, . and luther, ff., , , , . _diatribe on free will_, , . edits new testament, , f. and zwingli, f., f., . and farel, f. and calvin, , . biblical criticism, . on persecution, , , f. influence in france, . and netherlands, , ff. and henry viii, , and english reformation, f. on polygamy, , . influence in italy, . and index, ff. income, . on war, . on german inns, f. anecdote, . on treatment of women, . political theory, , f. edits fathers, . on roman capitol, . on books, . biographies, . and witchcraft, . on education, , , . portrait, . on hymn-singing, . wit, . erastus, t., . erfurt, , , , . university of, f., . eric xiv, king of sweden, . ermeland, . esch, j., . essex, . earl of, . esthonia, . estienne family, , . henry, . henry, junior, . robert, , eton, f. eucharist, doctrine of the, , ff., , , f., , , , , . eucken, . euclid, , . eugene iv, pope, . euripides, . exeter, . exploration, f., - . _exsurge domine_, f. eyemouth, . faber, see le fèvre and lefèvre. fagius, , . fallopius, . farel, w., f., , f., , , f. farnese, a., ff. farnese, o., . faust, f. ferdinand, emperor, , . and württemberg, , . and luther, . opposes german reforms, . elected king of romans, . tolerates lutherans, . becomes emperor, , . in hungary, . and elizabeth, . and council of trent, , f. commercial grants, . ferdinand, king of aragon, , , , , . ferrara, f. alphonso, duke of, . renée, duchess of, , , . university of, , . fichte, . ficino, m., . field, j., . figgis, n., . finland, , . fish, s., , . fisher, g. p., . fisher, h. a. l., . fisher, j., f., , , . fisher, r., . fitzherbert, . flacius illyricus, , . flanders, f., , , , , . flemings, . flodden, battle of, , , . florence, f., , , , f., , , . florida, . flushing, . folengo, . _formula of concord_, f. forzio, b., . fox, e., . foxe, j., , f., . france universities, f. reformation, , ff. invades italy, , . gallican church, , , , . war with germany, , , , , , ff., , . relations with switzerland, . calvin, . condition, , . royal pedigrees, . renaissance, . expansion of, f. wars of religion, ff., . failure of protestantism, ff. war with england, , , , . civilization, . and scotland, . and council of trent, . jesuits in, f. censorship, . population, , . wealth, ff. army, . coinage, f. finance, , , , . duelling, . trade, f. serfs, . poor-relief, . memoirs, . republicans, ff. skeptics, ff. franche comté, see burgundy, free county of. francis, st., , , . francis i, king of france, candidate for imperial throne, . and zwingli, f. and calvin, . character, f., f. and lnther, , . alliance with german protestants, . death, . and waldenses, . army, , . finance, , , . on gambling, . collège de france, . portrait, . and art, . francis ii, king of france, f., , , . francis, dauphin, . franciscans, , , . francke, s., , . franconia, . franeker, university of, . frankenhausen, . frankfort-on-the-oder, university of, , . frankfort-on-the-main, , , , , . treaty of, . frauenburg, . frederic iii, emperor, . frederic i, king of denmark, f. free will, , ff. freiburg-in-the-breisgau, university of, . freiburg in switzerland, , . freytag, g., f. friesland, , , , . froben, j., , , . frobisher, m., . froude, j. a., , , . frundsherg, , . fugger, bank of, , , ff. family, , , f. anthony, . james, f. jerome, . raymond, . funk, . fust, j., . gaetano di tiene, . galateo, j., . galen, , . galileo, , f. gama, vasco da, , f., ff. gambling, . gandia, duke of, . garland, john of, . garv, n., . gascony, . gasquet, . gelasius, pope, . gembloux, battle of, . geneva evangelized by zwingli's missionaries, , . calvin at, ff. constitution, f. theocracy, ff. immigration, f., , . libertines, f. capital of protestantism, . under beza, . knox at, f. dancing, . witch persecution, , . school, , f. university, . genoa, , , , , . gentillet, . germaine de foix, queen of spain, . _german theology, the_, . germany universities, , , f. mystics, ff. nationalism, ff. humanism, . condition, ff. peasants' war, - , . causes, ff. _twelve articles_, f. suppression, f. luther, f. effect of, , , , f. rebellion of the knights, f., . religious statistics, f. effect of religious controversy, . french calvinists in, . and netherlands, ff. ascham's opinion of, . civilization, . and italy, . and spain, . counter-reformation, . and council of trent, . jesuits in, ff. censorship, . and reformation, . population, , . coinage, . inns, f. mines, f. trade, f. agriculture, . serfs, . labor, f. poor-relief, f. constitution, f. reform of calendar, . witch hunt, f. schools, . books, . gertruidenberg, . gesner, c., f. ghent, f., , , f., f., . pacification of, , . ghislieri, see pius v. giberti, m., . gibbon, e., , f. gilbert, h., f. gilbert, w., , . gilds, ff., f., ff. giorgione, . gipsies, . giulio romano, , . giustiniani, . glarus, , , . glasgow, ; . university of, . glencairn, earl of, . gloucester, . goa, , , . goch, j. pupper of, . goethe, j. w. von, , f. gold, production of, ff., f. gonzalez, . gosson, . gotha, . gouge, j., . granada, , . granvelle, a. p., ff. gratius, o., . _gravamina_, f. gravelines, battle of, . great schism, . greek, , , ff. classics, ff. gregory vii, pope, . gregory xi, pope, , . gregory, xiii, pope, and st. bartholomew, f., . and elizabeth, f., . pontificate, f. reform of calendar, . gregory xiv, pope, . greifswald, university of, , . grenoble, . gresham, t., . grey, lady jane, ff., . gribaldi, m., f. grimani, . grisar, h., . grisons, confederacy of, f. groningen, , . groote, g., . grotius, h., , . gruet, j., . grumbach, . guadegni, t., . guam, . guelders, , , , . guicciardini, f., , , , . guicciardini, l., . guinea, . guinegate, . guines, , f., . guise claude, duke of, . francis, duke of, f., f., , , . henry, duke of, f., , f. guizot, . gustavus vasa, king of sweden, f. gutenberg, j., f. haarlem, , . hagenau, . hague, . haiti (espaniola, hispaniola), , . hales, j., . hall, e., , , . hallam, h., . hamburg, , , . hamilton, p., . haring, c. h., . harnack, a. von, . harrington, . harrison, , . harzhorn, e., . haug bank, . hawkins, , . health, public, f., ff. hebrew, f., , . hegel, f. hegius, . heidelberg, ; heilsberg, . heimburg, gregory of, . heine, h., , f. helmont, . helmstadt, university of, . henlein, p., . henry vii, king of england, , . henry viii, king of england, and france, , . character, ff. and luther, , f., . empson and dudley, . and scotland, , . and charles v, f. "defender of the faith," . divorce from catharine, f., f., , . supreme head of the church, ff., . will, , . and ireland, , . finances, . government, , . navy, . commercial policy, . and polydore vergil, . and sanders, . and melanchthon, . and education, . portrait, . henry ii, king of france character, f. suppresses protestantism, f. death, f. and council of trent, . income, . henry iii, king of france, , ff., . henry iv, king of france, . policy, , , . leader of huguenots, ff. character, f. conversion, f. edict of nantes, f. henry d'albret, king of navarre, . henry, king of portugal, , . heracleides, . herder, . herodotus, . hertford, . hesse, , , . philip, landgrave of, suppresses peasants' revolt, . calls conference at marburg, . attacks würzburg and bamberg, . signs protest, . restores ulrich of wurttemberg, . commits bigamy, . expels henry of brunswick, . captivity, , . and zwingli, . heywood, j., . hindoos, . hippocrates, . historiography in the sixteenth century, - . humanistic, ff. memoirs, . chronicles, . biography, f. church history, ff. later treatment of reformation, see reformation. hobbes, t., . höchstetter, c., . hochstraten, j., . hoen, , f. hofen, u. t. von, . hoffberg, p. von, . hoffmann, m., , . holbein, h., , , , , . holland, , . anabaptists, . reformation, , , , . war with spain, , f., f., , . population, . hollinshed, r., . holyrood, . homer, . hooker, r., f., , . hooper, . horn, count of, , . hotman, f., , , , , . howard of effingham, lord, . hübmaier, b., . huguenots origin of the name, . character, f. history, ff. guaranteed liberty of worship, f. in netherlands, , . and england, . politics, ff. caricatured, . judged by french secular historians, . judged by michelet, . hulst, f. van der, . humanism patronized by papacy, . prepares for reformation, , . turns against luther, ff. in poland, . in netherlands, f. in scotland, . decay, . hume, d., ff. hungary, , , , . universities, . huss, j. protected by a university, . death, , . life and work, ff. influence on luther, , , f., , . influence in poland, . followers in bohemia, . on index, . hussites, , , . hütlin, m., . hutten, u. von, . mocks julius ii, . publishes valla's _donation of constantine_, , , . character and work, f. supports rebellion of knights, . incites peasants, . and luther, . taunts erasmus, . commercial ideas, . hutton, m., . huxley, . iceland, . idria, . imbart de la tour, p., . incas, f. independents, , f. _index of prohibited books_, , , , , , , ff., . congregation of, . _index expurgatorius_, f. effect, f. and copernicus, . and weyer, . india, , ff., , , . indians (american), ff. individualism, , , , , . indulgences, letters of first printed, . theory and practice of, f. denounced by wyclif, . denounced by huss, . erasmus's opinion of, . attacked by luther, f. in denmark, . in switzerland, . in netherlands, . and fuggers, . inghirami, . ingolstadt, . university of, , . innocent iii, pope, , . innocent viii, pope, f., , . inquisition in netherlands, ff., . spanish, , ff., . in venice, . and loyola, . medieval, . procedure, . penalties, . number of victims, f. scope, . in spanish dependencies, . roman, f. _index_, , . in portugal, . suppresses books on anatomy, . and philosophy, . and bruno, . judged by modern catholics, f. and witchcraft, , . judged by froude, . institoris, h., . intelligence, growth of, f. intelligentsia, f. inventions, ff. ireland, - , , . jesuits in, . and inquisition, . isabella, queen of castile, , , . isabella of portgual, queen of spain, . isocrates, . italy first printers in, . lack of national feeling, , . and renaissance, , f., . decadence, . invaded by france, , . civilization, . and reformation, ff. jesuits in, . population, f., . coinage, f. hospitals, . banks, f. trade, . reform of calendar, . universities, . ivan iv, czar, , , . ivry, battle of, . jagiello dynasty, . james iv, king of scotland, , . james v, king of scotland, , , f., f., . james vi, king of scotland, , f., , , . james, w., , . jane seymour, queen of england, . janizaries, , . jansen, . jansenists, . janssen, j., . japan, , , , . jarnac, battle of, . java, , . jena, university of, . jerome, st., , . jerome of prague, , . jerusalem, , , . jesus christ, , , . jesuits, - . in poland, f. in bohemia, . in france, , , . in netherlands, . in england, , f. origins, , f. and paul iv, . at council of trent, f. typical, . organization, f. obedience, f. growth, f. combat heresy, ff. foreign missions, ff. decay, ff. casuistry, , . in portugal, . and tyrannicide, . and philosophy, . colleges, , f. art, . judged by michelet, . jetzer, j., , . jewel, j., , , . jews, ff., , , . joan d'albret, queen of navarre, , . joan of arc, . joanna, queen of spain, , . john the baptist, . john xxiii, pope, . john iii, king of portugal, , . john iii, king of sweden, . jonas, j., , . josephus, . jovius, p., ff., . jud, l., . julius ii, pope, f., , , , . julius iii, pope, f., , . justification by faith only, lefèvre, , . luther, f., , , , , . contarini, . at ratisbon colloquy, . in france, , . in england, , . in italy, , . at council of trent, f. historical estimate of the doctrine, f. kaiserberg, g. of, . kant, i., , , f. kaulbach, . kautsky, k., . kawerau, o., . keller, l., . kempis, thomas à, _imitation of christ_, , f., . kent, . kett, . khair-ed-din, . knodt, . knollys, . knox, j., . at geneva, , f. in england, , , . political theory, , f., , ff. character, f. early life, . _monstrous regiment of women_, . and mary, ff. on women, , . and buchanan, . as an historian, f. koberger, a., . köhler, w., . kohlhase, j., . königsberg, , . koran, , . kovalewsky, . kurdistan, . kurtz, . küstrin, j. von, , . la boétie, f. lactantius, . ladrones, . lagarde, p. de, . lamprecht, k., . lancaster, john of, . landau, . landstuhl, . lang, a., . lang, m., . languedoc, . la rochelle, , , , , . las casas, b. de, . laski, j., , . lasso, o., . lateran council, fifth, , f., . latimer, h., , , , , . latin, , , , ff. classics, ff. la tour, . laurent, . laveleye, e. de, . laynez, , . lea, h. c., , . lecky, . lefèvre d'Étaples, j., early life, . biblical work, , , , , . justification by faith, , . and farel, . and calvin, . and french reformation, ff., f. le fèvre, p., , . leghorn, . leicester, robert dudley, earl of, , . leinster, . leipheim, . leipzig university of, , . debate, f., , . interim, . lemnius, s., f. lemonnier, . leo x. character and policy, , . finance, . concordat of bologna, . and diet of augsburg ( ), . and indulgences, ff. condemns luther, . and charles v, , . death, . attacked by sachs, . and henry viii, . oratory of divine love, . and sapienza, . portrait, . and art, . leo, emperor, . leon, p. de, . leonardo da vinci, income, . scientific work, f., f. anatomy, . physics, f. astronomy, . on necromancy, . art, ff. lepanto, battle of, , , . lerma, duke of, f. leslie, j., . lessing, . levant, . lewis, king of hungary, . leyden, . john of, f. university of, , . l'hôpital, m. de, , , . liège, , . lilienstayn, j., . lille, , . lima, . lincolnshire, , . lisbon, , , , , . lister, g., . lithuania, ff. livonia, . livy, . lochleven, . loisy, a., , . lollards, , , . lombardy, . london, , , . first printers in, . netherlanders in, . and reformation, , , f. population, . credit, . and theater, . brothels, . death-rate, f. trade, , f., , . pauperism, . loretto, . lorraine, . charles, cardinal of, , f. lotto, l., . lotzer, . louis xi, king of france, , . louis xii, king of france, , f. louvain, university of, , , , , , , , , . loyola, i., early life, f. conversion, f. and luther, , . first disciples, f. _spiritual exercises_, f. founds company of jesus, f. death, . autobiography, . judged by lagarde, . lübeck, , f., . lublin, . union of, . lucca, , . lucerne, , . ludolph of saxony, . luther, c. von bora, , . luther, m. career changes in his life-time, . alludes to new world, , . and university of wittenberg, . influenced by mystics, ff. nationalism, , f. early life, ff. becomes a friar, . inner development, ff. journey to italy, , . summoned to augsburg ( ), f. debates with eck, f. condemned by catholic church, . burns bull and canon law, . at diet of worms, f., , , , . under ban of the empire, . at wartburg, . opposes radicals, ff., ff. and peasants' war, , , f., f. wins german ruling classes, . reforms church service and government, f. illnesses, . marriage, f., . death, , note. real estate and income, , . anecdotes, f., . closes brothels, f. doctrines, opinions and character doctrine of eucharist, (see controversy with zwingli). justification by faith only, . declares councils can err, . literary genius, , . political theory, , , ff., . opinion of polygamy, , , , . virulence, . character, f. opinion of theater, . on sunday observance, . on aristotle, . opinion of war, . on hunting, . on reformation, , f. on lying, . on marriage, , f. on education, , , . commercial ideas, f., . on poor relief, . biblical criticism, f., . refutes koran, . on copernican theory, . philosophy, ff. on toleration, ff. on witchcraft, , f. on art and music, , . writings translates valla on _donation of constantine_, . lectures on bible, . _ninety-five theses_, , . _address to the christian nobility_, ff., , , . _babylonian captivity of church_, f., , , . translation of bible, f., , f., f. _on monastic vows_, . _bondage of the will_, f., . hymns, , , , . catechisms, , , . _jack sausage_, . _schmalkaldic articles_, . _against the papacy at rome_, . _table talk_, . influence and relations with contemporaries lefèvre, . hutten, . general influence, , f., , . sachs, f. deserted by humanists, ff. and erasmus, ff., , . and zwingli, ff., ff., , f. and melanchthon, . invited to denmark, . hailed by bohemian brethren, . and calvin, , , f. more, . influence in france, ff., . influence in netherlands, ff. and henry viii, , f., , . influence in england, ff., f., , , . influence in scotland, ff. influence in italy, ff., . influence on catholic reform, . _index_, . loyola, , . lemnius, . and raphael, f. and dürer, . caricatured, . and faust, . judged by posterity, sleidan, , . earily biographers, . des périers, . montaigne, f. charron, . bruno, . r. burton, . early catholics, . bossuet, . vettori, . guicciardini, . brantôme, . robertson, . hume, . gibbon, f. wieland, . goethe, . lessing, . condorcet, . and french revolution, ff. and romantic movement, ff. mme. de staël, . heine, f. michelet, f. carlyle, . emerson, . herder, . arndt, . german patriots, f. hegel, . döllinger, f. bax, f. nietzsche, f. troeltsch, . santayana, . imhart de la tour, . lagarde, . the great war, f. paquier, . harnack, . loisy, . w. james, . grisar, . acton, . secularization of the world, . lutheranism, in england, , , . in germany, , f. in france, ff. in netherlands, ff. in italy, f., . and papacy, . in spain, f. political theory, , . luxemburg, , . lyly, j., . lyndsay, d., , note, , . lyons, , , , . waldenses, . and reformation, , , . maastricht, , . macalpine, j., . macaulay, , . mcgiffert, a. c., . machiavelli, n. _the prince_, , . and _index_, f. on war, ff. ethics, f. on classics, . as an historian, . political theory, ff., , f., . and christianity, , . mackinnon, . madagascar, . madeira, , . madrid, . treaty of, f., . madgeburg, , , . _magdeburg centuries_, f. magellan, f., , f., . magni, o., . magrath, . maitland, . majorca, . malabar, . malacca, . malay peninsula, , . maldonato, . malines, f., . malory, t. _la morte d'arthur_, . malta, . manchester, . manners, ff. manresa, , . manichaeans, . mansfeld, , , . mantua, . benedict of, . isabella d'este, marchioness of, , . manz, f., . marburg, colloquy at, f. university of, , , . marcellus ii, pope, . marcion, , . marcourt, a. de, . marcus aurelius, . margaret d 'angoulême, queen of navarre, , , , . and reformation, f., f. margaret tudor, queen of scotland, , . mariana, . marignano, battle of, , , , . marlowe, c., , . marnix, p. van, . marot, c., , , , , , . marranos, , . marriage, prohibited degrees, f. protestant regulation of, , . catholic reform, . esteemed, f. marsiglio of padua, . mary, mother of jesus, worshiped, , , , , . mary of burgundy, empress, , . mary tudor, queen of england, , . foreign policy, , . and netherlands, f. succession, f. marriage, f., . religious policy, ff. and knox, , . censorship, . commercial policy, . and universities, . mary tudor, queen of france, , , . mary of hapsburg, queen of hungary, , , . mary of lorraine, queen of scotland, , , , . mary stuart, queen of scots, and england, , , f., , , , , , . execution, f., f. marriage with francis ii, , , . birth, . and knox, ff. marriage with darnley, . marriage with bothwell, f. casket letters, f. deposed, , f. dress, . and buchanan, . martyr, peter, see vermigli and anghierra. marx, c., f. masuccio, . mathesius, . mathews, s., . matthews, t., . matthys, j., f. maurenbrecher, . maurer, h., . maurolycus, . maximilian i, emperor, and julius ii, . and luther, . policy, f. death, . and netherlands, , , . maximilian ii, emperor, , , . mayence, f., , , . albert, elector of, , , . berthold, elector of, . mayenne, duke of, ff., . mayr, c., . meaux, , , , . mecca, . medici, de', family, , , . lorenzo the magnificent, , . lorenzo ii, f. alexander, , . cosimo, . medina, , ff. medina sidonia, duke of, . mediterranean, , . melanchthon, p. doctrine of eucharist, . and luther, , , , . and peasants' war, , . at marburg colloquy, . drafts augsburg confession, . on polygamy, , . reforms cologne, . negotiates with catholics, . attacked by lutherans, , . and zwingli, . and calvin, . and servetus, . and france, , . and england, , , , f. and scotland, . on _index_, . salary, . and lemnius, . and bible, . political theory, , . and copernicus, f. persecutes, f. on education, . mendelssohn, . mercator, g., . merindol, . metz, , . mexico, , f., f. meyerbeer, . mézeray, de, . michaelangelo, , ff., , . michelet, j., , f. middleburg, . milan, f., , f., f., . milne, w., . miltitz, c. von, . milton, j., , , , . _mirabilia urbis romae_, . mirandola, pico della, ff., , , . miritzsch, m., . mississippi, . modena, . mohács, battle of, . mohammedanism, , , f., , f., . moluccas, , . monarchy, f., . moncontour, battle of, . money value of, in the sixteenth century, ff., f. coins, ff. interest, f. power of, . monod, g., . monopolies, , , ff. mons, battle of, , . montaigne, m. de, and new world, . and reformation, f. on torture, . on classics, f. and la boétie, f. skepticism, f. on toleration, . on witchcraft, f. montauban, . . montbéliard, . monte, a. c. del, . montesquieu, . montluc, b. de, , . moutmorency, a. de, , , . montpellier, . mook, battle of, . moors, , , f. morals, ff. of clergy, , f. morata, o., . moravians, see bohemian brethren. moray, earl of, , f. more, t. _utopia_, , , , , f., , . debt to lefèvre, . and reformation, , ff., , . on henry viii, , . death, f. on persecution, f., . drinks only water, . on hunting, . marriages, f. and bibles, . and religion, f., . and witchcraft, . portrait, . judged by robertson, moriscos, , f., . morley, lord, . mornay, p. duplessis, , f. morocco, . morone, . mortmain, statute of, . morton, earl of, . moschus, . moscow, . mosheim, . motley, . mountjoy, lord, . mühlberg, battle of, , . mühlhausen in thuringia, . mülhausen in alsace, . munich, . münster, f., . münster, s., , . münster, t., , , f., , , , . muret, . murner, t., , . muscovy, , f., . music, . mutian, , . myconius, , . mystics, - , . naarden, . namur, . nanak, . nantes university of, . edict of, f., , . naples french in, , . spanish, , , f. reformation, f. population, . narva, . nash, t., . nassau, . louis of, ff., . nationalism rise of, . effect on church, - . in france, . naumburg, bishop of, . negroes, , , . neo-platonism, , . nesbit, j., . netherlands mystics, f. charles v, . and french calvinists, , . constitution, ff. mary, regent of, , , . margaret of austria, regent of, . relations with the empire, f. reformation, ff., ff. and spain, ff., ff., . and alva, ff. northern provinces declare independence, ff., . "beggars," ff., . and england, , f. civilization, . jesuits, f. censorship, . population, , . post office, . commerce, ff. agriculture, . serfs, . poor-relief, f. reform of calendar, . newcastle, . nice, truce of, , . nicholas v, pope, , , . nicoletto, . nietzsche, f., f. niklashausen, piper of, . nîmes, . bishop of, . nobility, , f., . nola, . norfolk, . duke of, f. norman, r., . normandy, . north, t., . northumberland, john dudley, duke of, f., . norway, , , . norwich, , . novara, battle of, . noyen, . nuremberg, , , , , , , , . humanism, . diet of ( ), f., . diet of ( ), f. "godless painters," , . revolts from rome, . peace of, . dürer, , . poor-relief, . occam, william of, f., , , , . ochino, b., , , , , . oecolampadius, j., ff., f., , , , , , , . oldenbarneveldt, j. van, , . olivetan, , , . orange, anne, princess of, , . orange, charlotte, princess of, . orange, william, prince of, , , ff., . character, , . elected statholder of holland, . death, , . and england, . orellana, . orinoco, . orleans, university of, . reformation, , , . states general, f. osgood, h. l., . osiander, a., , , . oudewater, . overyssel, . oxford, university of, , , , , , , . oxfordshire, . pacific ocean, , . paciolus, l., . pack, o. von, . paderborn, university of, . padua, university of, , . paget, lord, . palatinate, , , , , . frederic iii, elector palatine, , . palermo, . palestrina, , . palma, university of, . pampeluna, f. papacy history of in the later middle ages, - . triumphs over councils, . secularization, . patronizes art and letters, . denounced by wyclif, . rejected by bohemian brethren, . attacked by marsiglio, . assailed by valla, . rejected by luther, ff., , . dependent on spain, . history, - , - . and turks, . finance, . judged by creighton and acton, , . paquier, . paracelsus, t., , , f. paraguay, . paré, a., f. paris first printers at, . university of, , , , f., ff., , , , , , , , , . college of montaigu, , f., . parlement of, , f., , , , . and reformation, , ff., , , , . jesuits, . besieged by henry iv, f., . population, . credit, . constabulary, . brothels, . hospitals, . trade, . parker, . parma, duke of, , . parma, margaret of, , f. pascal, b., . passau, convention of, . pastor, a., . pastor, l. von, f. patten, s. n., . paul the apostle, , f., , , , , , , . paul ii, pope, . paul iii, . and oecumenical council, , f. and luther, . alliance with charles v, . and margaret of navarre, . and rabelais, . and england, ff. pontificate, ff. reforms, ff. foreign policy, . and jesuits, . and inquisition, . and american indians, . and sapienza, , . and artists, , . and copernicus, , . and philosophy, . paul iv, , , , , f. paulet, sir a., . paulus diaconus, . pauperism, ff. pausanias, . pavia, battle of, , , , , . penz, g., , . périers, des, . perrin, a., . persia, . perth, . peru, , ff., f. pescia, domenico da, . petrarch, . petri, l., . petri, o., . pfefferkorn, j., . philibert, e., . philip iv of france, , . philip the handsome of hapsburg, , . philip ii, king of spain, , . and france, , ff., . on st. bartholomew, . and netherlands, ff., ff., . marriage with mary of england, f. and elizabethan england, ff., , , . and papacy, ff. and council of trent, . finances, . character and policy, ff. and portugal, . and turks, f. portrait, . philippine islands, f. philosophy, - . reformers, ff. skeptics, ff. science, ff. piacenza, , picardy, , . piccolomini family, . piedmont, . pindar, . pinkie, battle of, . pirckheimer, w., , , . pisa, . council of ( ), . schismatic council of ( ), . pistoia, . pius ii, pope, , f., , . pius iv, pope, ff., ff. pius v, pope, f., , f., , . pizarro, f. plato, , , , , , . pliny the elder, . plutarch, , , . pocock, r., . podiebrad, . poggio, , . poissy, colloquy of, f., . poitiers, diana of, . poitou, . poland, pays peter's pence, . suzerain of prussia, . literature, . constitution, f. wars, f., . reformation, - . henry iii, , . civilization, . counter-reformation, . and council of trent, . jesuits, . population, . gilds, . reform of calendar, . pole, r., ff., , , , , . political theory, - . the state as power, ff. republicanism, ff. church and state, ff. constitution, ff. tyrannicide, . radicals, f. economic, ff. pollard, a. f., . polybius, . polygamy, , , , . pomponazzi, p., , , . ponet, j., f. pontano, . pontoise, estates of, . porta, j. b., della, . portsmouth, . portugal exploration, , . literature, . civilization, . and council of trent, . jesuits, . colonies, ff., , ff. inquisition, , . annexed to spain, , . decadence, ff. population, . navy, . commerce, . reform of calendar, . porzio, s., . posen, , . post office, f., . praemunire, statute of, f., . prague, university of, , . predestination, doctrine of, ff., , , . prescott, . pressburg, university of, . prices, , , ff. wheat, f. animals, . groceries, . drygoods, f. metals, . real estate, . books, . rise of, , f., . priscillian, . printing, , ff., , f., f. probst, j., , . proletariat, ff. prostitution, f. protestantism origin of the name, . period of expansion, , f. varieties of, f. in france, ff. judged by renan, . provisors, statute of, , . prudentius, . prussia, , , , , . ptolemy, , note, . puglia, francis da, . pulci, . puritans, , , , , ff, , , , , . quakers, . quinet, e., . quirini, . rabelais, f., . and reformation, f., , f. given a benefice, . anarchism, . philosophy, . love of life, . racau, . racovian catechism, . radewyn, . raleigh, w., . ramus, p., . ranke, l. von, , , , f. raphael, sanzi, , , ff., . ratisbon league of, . diet of, . book of, . colloquy of, , . recorde, r., reinach, s., . reformation antecedents, ff. causes, - , f. and renaissance, , f., ff., , f., f. and morals, f. and capitalism, . historiography in th century, ff. and state, ff. and education, ff. and art, f., f. and books, . parallels to, f. religious changes, ff. political and economic changes, f. intellectual changes, f. the word, . various interpretations, - . protestant, ff., f. catholic, ff., f. political, ff. economic, , , ff. rationalist, ff. french revolutionary, ff. romantic, ff. liberal, ff., . scientific, ff. darwinian, ff. teutonic, f., . _reformation of the emperor frederic iii_, . _reformation of the emperor sigismund_, f. reinhold, e., , . rembrandt, . renaissance, . and reformation, , f., ff., , f., , f. in france, . in netherlands, . renan, . renard, f. renaudie, f. reni, g., . requesens, l., . reuchlin, j., f., . reval, . rheims, , . rheticus, g. j., , ff. rhodes, . ribadeneira, . riccio, d., . richmond, duke of, , . ridley, , . riga, , . rink, m., . ritschl, . robertson, j. m., . robertson, w., , . robespierre, . robinson, j. h., . rode, h.. . rodrigo, . rogers, j., . rohrbach, j., , . rome and luther, , . sack of, , , , . population, . university of, , . administration, , . pilgrimages, . prostitutes, . and copernicus, . st. peter's church, . pasquino and marforio, . rönnow, . ronsard, p. de, f., . rosenblatt, w., . rostock, university of, . roth, c., . rotterdam, , . rouen, , . rousillon, . rovere family, , . rubeanus, c., , f. rudolph ii, emperor, . russell, b., . russia, f., , . ruthenians, . rüxner, g., . ruysbroeck, john of, , . saal, m. von der, . sabatier, p., f., . sachs, h., f., . sacraments catholic doctrine of, , . protestant doctrine of, ff., , , , f. sacro bosco, j. de, . sadoleto, , . st. andrews, , , . st. bartholomew, massacre of, f., f., , . st. david's, . st. gall, , , , . st. quentin, battle of, . saints, worship of, f., , , . salamanca, university of, , . salerno, university of, . salisbury, . salmeron, , . samosata, paul of, . sanchez, f., . samson, b., . sanders, n., , , . sandomir, . san gallo, . santayana, g., f. saracens, . saragossa, university of, . sardinia, . sarpi, p., , , , , f. _satyre menippée_, f. savonarola, ff., , , savoy, , , , , f., . charles iii, duke of, . louise of, . saxony division into albertine and ernestine, note. albertine george, duke of, , , , , , , f., . henry, duke of, . maurice, duke and elector of, . alliance with charles v, f. attacks john frederic, . becomes elector, . captures magdeburg, . turns against charles v, , . death, . and council of trent, . ernestine nationalism, . indulgences, . mentioned, . peasants' war, ff. anabaptists, , . becomes lutheran, . brigandage, . church property, . frederic, elector of, , , . supports luther, , , , , , . john, elector of, , , , . signs protest, . votes against ferdinand, . john frederic the elder, elector and duke of, . expels bishop of naumburg, . defeated and captured by charles v, . freed, . loses electoral vote, . john frederic the younger, duke of, . scaliger, j. j., , . scandinavia, , ff., . schaffhausen, , , . schärtlin, . scheldt barred by holland, . schenck, m., . schenitz, j., . schleswig-holstein, . schmalkalden, league of, ff., , , f., f. schmalkaldic war, ff., , , , , . schmidt, . schönberg, . schools, , , ff. schoonhoven, . schwenckfeld, c. von, . schwyz, , . science, - . inductive method, . mathematics, ff. zoölogy, f. anatomy, f. physics, ff. geography, f. astronomy, ff. schools, . scotland and england, , , f., f., . condition, ff. and france, f., f. reformation, ff., ff., f. the kirk, , f. black acts, . population, f., . theater, . duelling, . brigandage, . serfdom, . scott, r., f. scotus, duns, . sea power, f. sebastian, king of portugal, . seckendorf, . selim i, sultan, , . sell, k., . semblançay, . seneca, . serfdom, f., f., f. seripando, . servetus, m., f., , f., . severn, . seville, , , , f. university of, . seymour, t., . shakespeare, w., , , , . sicily, , . sickingen, f. von, , f., , , . sidney, h., . sidney, p., , . siena, , . sievershausen, battle of, . sigismund, emperor, . sigismund i, king of poland, ff. sigismund ii, king of poland, ff. sigismund iii, king of poland, . sigüenza, university of, . sikhism, . silver, production of, ff., f. simmel, f., . simons, m., . sixtus iv, pope, , . sixtus v, pope, , , f., f., . skelton, j., . sleidan, f., f. smith, h.. . socinians, . somascians, . somerset, e. seymour, duke of, , , . sophocles, . soto, h. de, . sozini, f., , , . sozini, l., , , . spain universities, , . charles v, . literature, . and netherlands, , ff., , . and england, f., , ff., , f. armada, f., , . civilization, . and papacy, ff. and counter-reformation, . jesuits, . colonies, , , f., ff. inquisition, ff. censorship, . unification, . revolt of communes, , f., , , . revolt of hermandad, , , . empire, . cortes, f. and portugal, f. and moors, f. population, ff. coinage, . finances, , . navy, f. clergy, . trade, f. the mesta, . reform of calendar, . judged by froude, . spencer, h., . spenser, e., , , f. spinoza, b., . spires, . diet of ( ), . diet of ( ), , , . diet of ( ), . diet of ( ), . sprenger, j., . spurs, battle of the, . staël, de, . sterling, . steven báthory, king of poland, . stevin, s., , . stockholm, , . stourbridge, . stow, j., . strabo, . strassburg, , , , , , , , , . strauss, d. f., . stühlingen, , . stunica, d., . suffolk, . charles brandon, duke of, . henry grey, duke of, . suleiman, sultan, , . sully, duke of, , , . sumatra, , . surrey, earl of, . suso, h., . sussex, . swabia, ff., . sweden universities, . reformation, , f. christian ii, . war with poland, . population, . a law of, . church property, . switzerland, , f. reformation, - . civilization, . population, . symonds, j. a., , . syria, , . taborites, . tacitus, , . tangier, . tapper, . tartaglia, n., , . tartars, , . tasso, t., , , , f. tauler, j., , . tetzel, j., f. teutonic order, , f., , , . tewkesbury, j., . theater, , ff. theatines, , . theocritus, . theognis, . thierry, . thorn, . edict of, . thou, de, , . thucydides, . tierra del fuego, . tintoretto, . titian, f. tobacco, . toledo, , . enriquez de, . toleration, - . peace of augsburg, . edict of nantes, f. and bible, . intolerance of catholics, ff. intolerance of protestants, ff. renaissance, . reformation, f., . tolstoy, l., . tordesillas, treaty of, . torgau, league of, . torquemada, . toul, , . toulouse, . tournai, , . tours, , . transubstantiation, rejected by wyclif, . rejected by taborites, . attacked by melanchthon and luther, , . lateran council, . in augsburg confession, . in england, , . and council of trent, . transylvania, f. treitschke, f., . trent, council of, - . and protestants, , , f., . decrees in france, . reforms, , , , ff., . decrees in england, f. opening, , . and pius iv, . preparation, ff. constitution, f. dogmatic decrees, ff., . result, f. and index, ff. and charity, . political theory, . and reason, . and louvain, . and art, . judged by sarpi, . trèves, , , f. university of, , . diet of trèves-cologne, . trie, william, . trinity college, dublin, , . troeltsch, e., ff. tübingen, university of, . tunis, . tunstall, c., , , , turks, capture constantinople, . war with germany, , , , . war with hungary, . conquer transylvania, . alliance with france, . and papacy, . and spain, . empire, ff. army, . trade, . tuscany, . duke of, . tyler, wat, . tyndale, w., f., , , , f., . udal, n., , . ukraine, . ulm, , . ulster, . unitarians, f., , , , , . universities in fifteenth century, f. and reformation, . reform of, . and henry viii, . pay of professors, . in sixteenth century, ff. unterwalden, , . upsala, university of, . uri, , . ursulines, . usingen, . usury, , f., f. utrecht, , , , , , , . union of, , . vaga, p. del, . valais, f. valangin, . valdes, j. de, . valence, university of, . valencia, . university of, . valla, l., , ff., . _donation of constantine_, , . _annotations on new testament_, , f. _dialogue on free will_, , . _on monastic life_, . _on pleasure_, . vallière, j., . van dyke, . varthema, l. de, . vasari, g., f., , . vassy, massacre of, . velasco, . velasquez, . venezuela, . venice, , , . war with julius ii, . alliance with france, . and reformation, f. inquisition, , . trade, , , . population, . coinage, f. bank, . church property, . art, . verdun, , . vergerio, p. p., , . vergil, polydore, , . vermigli, p. m., , , , . verona, . vespucci, a., , f. vettori, . vienna, f. concordat of, . university of, , , , . vienne, , . vieta, f., f. villalar, battle of, . villavicenzio, l. da, . villers, c. de, . villiers, f. vilvorde, f. vitrier, j., , . vives, l., f., , , , . voes, h., . volmar, m., . voltaire, , f. volterra, d. da, . wages and salaries, ff., f. waitz, . waldenses, , , . waldo, p., . waldseemüller, m., . wales, , , , , . arthur, prince of, f. walker, w., . walloons, , f. walsingham, , . walsingham, f., . warham, w., . warsaw, compact of, , . waterford, . wealth of the world, ff. weber, m., . wedderburn, james, . wedderburn, john, . weinsberg, . weiss, n., . welser bank, f. werner, . wernle, . westeras, diet of, . west indies, , f., , . westmoreland, . weyer, j., f. white, andrew d., . widmanstetter, a., . wied, h. von, . wieland, . wilna, . wilson, w., . winchester, , . wishart, g., f. witchcraft, , , - . ancient magic, f. the witch, f. the devil, . the inquisition, . protestantism, f. the witch hunt, ff. growing skepticism, ff. wittenberg, , ff., f., , , , note, f., , , , f. university of, , , , , , , , ff., , , f. concord, . articles, . wolsey, t., , , . character and policy, f., , . and reformation, f., . death, . women, position of, , f. worms, . concordat of, . diet of ( ), . diet of ( ), ff., , , . diet of ( ), . edict of, , , , , , . colloquy of, , . wullenwever, g., . württemberg, , . ulrich, duke of, , , . wurzach, . würzburg, , , , . wyatt, sir t. (conspirator), . wyatt, sir t. (poet), . wyclif, j., . life and doctrine, ff., , . condemned at constance, f. and reformation, , , , . and bible, . xavier, f., , f., , . xenophon, . ximénez, , . yorkshire, f., . ypres, . zapolya, j., . zasius, u., . zeeland, , , f., ff. zierickzee, . zug, , . zuiderzee, battle of, . zütphen, , . henry of, . zurich anabaptists, , , . joins swiss confederacy, . zwingli, . reformation, ff. theocracy, . defeat at cappel, ff. bullinger, . english bible printed at, . dancing, . brothels, . university, . zwickau, f. zwilling, g., , . zwingli, a., . zwingli, u. and luther, ff., f., . death, , . and melanchthon, . and calvin, , . early life, ff. mocks indulgences, f. at zurich, . a reformer, ff. marriage, . and erasmus, . and anabaptists, ff., . political schemes, f. _true and false religion_, . _exposition of the christian faith_, . first peace of cappel, . at battle of cappel, f. character, . influence in france, . doctrine of the eucharist, ff., , . influence in england, , . and council of trent, . on _index_, . biblical exegesis, . political theory, . on usury, f. on reason, . on education, . judged by bossuet, . judged by voltaire, . judged by gibbon, . zwolle, . * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. | | | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this | | text. for a complete list, please see the end of this | | document. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * german culture past and present by ernest belfort bax author of "jean paul marat," "the religion of socialism," "the ethics of socialism," "the roots of reality," etc., etc. london: george allen & unwin, ltd. ruskin house museum street, w.c. _first published in _ [_all rights reserved_] contents chapter page introductory:--situation in the sixteenth century i. the reformation movement ii. popular literature of the time iii. the folklore of reformation germany iv. the sixteenth-century german town v. country and town at the end of the middle ages vi. the revolt of the knighthood vii. general signs of religious and social revolt viii. the great rising of the peasants and the anabaptist movement ix. post-mediÆval germany x. modern german culture preface the following pages aim at giving a general view of the social and intellectual life of germany from the end of the mediæval period to modern times. in the earlier portion of the book, the first half of the sixteenth century in germany is dealt with at much greater length and in greater detail than the later period, a sketch of which forms the subject of the last two chapters. the reason for this is to be found in the fact that while the roots of the later german character and culture are to be sought for in the life of this period, it is comparatively little known to the average educated english reader. in the early fifteenth century, during the reformation era, german life and culture in its widest sense began to consolidate themselves, and at the same time to take on an originality which differentiated them from the general life and culture of western europe as it was during the middle ages. to those who would fully appreciate the later developments, therefore, it is essential thoroughly to understand the details of the social and intellectual history of the time in question. for the later period there are many more works of a generally popular character available for the student and general reader. the chief aim of the sketch given in chapters ix and x is to bring into sharp relief those events which, in the author's view, represent more or less crucial stages in the development of modern germany. for the earlier portion of the present volume an older work of the author's, now out of print, entitled _german society at the close of the middle ages_, has been largely drawn upon. reference, as will be seen, has also been made in the course of the present work to two other writings from the same pen which are still to be had for those desirous of fuller information on their respective subjects, viz. _the peasants' war_ and _the rise and fall of the anabaptists_ (messrs. george allen & unwin). german culture past and present introductory the close of the fifteenth century had left the whole structure of mediæval europe to all appearance intact. statesmen and writers like philip de commines had apparently as little suspicion that the state of things they saw around them, in which they had grown up and of which they were representatives, was ever destined to pass away, as others in their turn have since had. society was organized on the feudal hierarchy of status. in the first place, a noble class, spiritual and temporal, was opposed to a peasantry either wholly servile or but nominally free. in addition to this opposition of noble and peasant there was that of the township, which, in its corporate capacity, stood in the relation of lord to the surrounding peasantry. the township in germany was of two kinds--first of all, there was the township that was "free of the empire," that is, that held nominally from the emperor himself (_reichstadt_), and secondly, there was the township that was under the domination of an intermediate lord. the economic basis of the whole was still land; the status of a man or of a corporation was determined by the mode in which they held their land. "no land without a lord" was the principle of mediæval polity; just as "money has no master" is the basis of the modern world with its self-made men. every distinction of rank in the feudal system was still denoted for the most part by a special costume. it was a world of knights in armour, of ecclesiastics in vestments and stoles, of lawyers in robes, of princes in silk and velvet and cloth of gold, and of peasants in laced shoe, brown cloak, and cloth hat. but although the whole feudal organization was outwardly intact, the thinker who was watching the signs of the times would not have been long in arriving at the conclusion that feudalism was "played out," that the whole fabric of mediæval civilization was becoming dry and withered, and had either already begun to disintegrate or was on the eve of doing so. causes of change had within the past half-century been working underneath the surface of social life, and were rapidly undermining the whole structure. the growing use of firearms in war; the rapid multiplication of printed books; the spread of the new learning after the taking of constantinople in , and the subsequent diffusion of greek teachers throughout europe; the surely and steadily increasing communication with the new world, and the consequent increase of the precious metals; and, last but not least, vasco da gama's discovery of the new trade route from the east by way of the cape--all these were indications of the fact that the death-knell of the old order of things had struck. notwithstanding the apparent outward integrity of the system based on land tenures, land was ceasing to be the only form of productive wealth. hence it was losing the exclusive importance attaching to it in the earlier period of the middle ages. the first form of modern capitalism had already arisen. large aggregations of capital in the hands of trading companies were becoming common. the roman law was establishing itself in the place of the old customary tribal law which had hitherto prevailed in the manorial courts, serving in some sort as a bulwark against the caprice of the territorial lord; and this change facilitated the development of the bourgeois principle of private, as opposed to communal, property. in intellectual matters, though theology still maintained its supremacy as the chief subject of human interest, other interests were rapidly growing up alongside of it, the most prominent being the study of classical literature. besides these things, there was the dawning interest in nature, which took on, as a matter of course, a magical form in accordance with traditional and contemporary modes of thought. in fact, like the flicker of a dying candle in its socket, the middle ages seemed at the beginning of the sixteenth century to exhibit all their own salient characteristics in an exaggerated and distorted form. the old feudal relations had degenerated into a blood-sucking oppression; the old rough brutality, into excogitated and elaborated cruelty (aptly illustrated in the collection of ingenious instruments preserved in the torture-tower at nürnberg); the old crude superstition, into a systematized magical theory of natural causes and effects; the old love of pageantry, into a lavish luxury and magnificence of which we have in the "field of the cloth of gold" the stock historical example; the old chivalry, into the mercenary bravery of the soldier, whose trade it was to fight, and who recognized only one virtue--to wit, animal courage. again, all these exaggerated characteristics were mixed with new elements, which distorted them further, and which foreshadowed a coming change, the ultimate issue of which would be their extinction and that of the life of which they were the signs. the growing tendency towards centralization and the consequent suppression or curtailment of the local autonomies of the middle ages in the interests of some kind of national government, of which the political careers of louis xi in france, of edward iv in england, and of ferdinand and isabella in spain were such conspicuous instances, did not fail to affect in a lesser degree that loosely connected political system of german states known as the holy roman empire. maximilian's first reichstag in caused to be issued an imperial edict suppressing the right of private warfare claimed and exercised by the whole noble class from the princes of the empire down to the meanest knight. in the same year the imperial chamber (_reichskammer_) was established, and in the imperial aulic council. maximilian also organized a standing army of mercenary troops, called _landesknechte_. shortly afterwards germany was divided into imperial districts called circles (_kreise_), ultimately ten in number, all of which were under an imperial government (_reichsregiment_), which had at its disposal a military force for the punishment of disturbers of the peace. but the public opinion of the age, conjoined with the particular circumstances, political and economic, of central europe, robbed the enactment in a great measure of its immediate effect. highway plundering and even private war were still going on, to a considerable extent, far into the sixteenth century. charles v pursued the same line of policy as his predecessor; but it was not until after the suppression of the lower nobility in , and finally of the peasants in , that any material change took place; and then the centralization, such as it was, was in favour of the princes, rather than of the imperial power, which, after charles v's time, grew weaker and weaker. the speciality about the history of germany is, that it has not known till our own day centralization on a national or racial scale like england or france. at the opening of the sixteenth century public opinion not merely sanctioned open plunder by the wearer of spurs and by the possessor of a stronghold, but regarded it as his special prerogative, the exercise of which was honourable rather than disgraceful. the cities certainly resented their burghers being waylaid and robbed, and hanged the knights wherever they could; and something like a perpetual feud always existed between the wealthier cities and the knights who infested the trade routes leading to and from them. still, these belligerent relations were taken as a matter of course; and no disgrace, in the modern sense, attached to the occupation of highway robbery. in consequence of the impoverishment of the knights at this period, owing to causes with which we shall deal later, the trade or profession had recently received an accession of vigour, and at the same time was carried on more brutally and mercilessly than ever before. we will give some instances of the sort of occurrence which was by no means unusual. in the immediate neighbourhood of nürnberg, which was _bien entendu_ one of the chief seats of the imperial power, a robber-knight leader, named hans thomas von absberg, was a standing menace. it was the custom of this ruffian, who had a large following, to plunder even the poorest who came from the city, and, not content with this, to mutilate his victims. in june he fell upon a wretched craftsman, and with his own sword hacked off the poor fellow's right hand, notwithstanding that the man begged him upon his knees to take the left, and not destroy his means of earning his livelihood. the following august he, with his band, attacked a nürnberg tanner, whose hand was similarly treated, one of his associates remarking that he was glad to set to work again, as it was "a long time since they had done any business in hands." on the same occasion a cutler was dealt with after a similar fashion. the hands in these cases were collected and sent to the bürgermeister of nürnberg, with some such phrase as that the sender (hans thomas) would treat all so who came from the city. the princes themselves, when it suited their purpose, did not hesitate to offer an asylum to these knightly robbers. with absberg were associated georg von giech and hans georg von aufsess. among other notable robber-knights of the time may be mentioned the lord of brandenstein and the lord of rosenberg. as illustrating the strictly professional character of the pursuit, and the brutally callous nature of the society practising it, we may narrate that margaretha von brandenstein was accustomed, it is recorded, to give the advice to the choice guests round her board that when a merchant failed to keep his promise to them, they should never hesitate to cut off _both_ his hands. even franz von sickingen, known sometimes as the "last flower of german chivalry," boasted of having among the intimate associates of his enterprise for the rehabilitation of the knighthood many gentlemen who had been accustomed to "let their horses on the high road bite off the purses of wayfarers." so strong was the public opinion of the noble class as to the inviolability of the privilege of highway plunder that a monk, preaching one day in a cathedral and happening to attack it as unjustifiable, narrowly escaped death at the hands of some knights present amongst his congregation, who asserted that he had insulted the prerogatives of their order. whenever this form of knight-errantry was criticized, there were never wanting scholarly pens to defend it as a legitimate means of aristocratic livelihood; since a knight must live in suitable style, and this was often his only resource for obtaining the means thereto. the free cities, which were subject only to imperial jurisdiction, were practically independent republics. their organization was a microcosm of that of the entire empire. at the apex of the municipal society was the bürgermeister and the so-called "honorability" (_ehrbarkeit_), which consisted of the patrician clans or _gentes_ (in most cases), those families which were supposed to be descended from the original chartered freemen of the town, the old mark-brethren. they comprised generally the richest families, and had monopolized the entire government of the city, together with the right to administer its various sources of income and to consume its revenue at their pleasure. by the time, however, of which we are writing, the trade-guilds had also attained to a separate power of their own, and were in some cases ousting the burgher-aristocracy, though they were very generally susceptible of being manipulated by the members of the patrician class, who, as a rule, could alone sit in the council (_rath_). the latter body stood, in fact, as regards the town, much in the relation of the feudal lord to his manor. strong in their wealth and in their aristocratic privileges, the patricians lorded it alike over the townspeople and over the neighbouring peasantry, who were subject to the municipality. they forestalled and regrated with impunity. they assumed the chief rights in the municipal lands, in many cases imposed duties at their own caprice, and turned guild privileges and rights of citizenship into a source of profit for themselves. their bailiffs in the country districts forming part of their territory were often more voracious in their treatment of the peasants than even the nobles themselves. the accounts of income and expenditure were kept in the loosest manner, and embezzlement clumsily concealed was the rule rather than the exception. the opposition of the non-privileged citizens, usually led by the wealthier guildsmen not belonging to the aristocratic class, operated through the guilds and through the open assembly of the citizens. it had already frequently succeeded in establishing a representation of the general body of the guildsmen in a so-called great council (_grosser rath_), and in addition, as already said, in ousting the "honorables" from some of the public functions. altogether the patrician party, though still powerful enough, was at the opening of the sixteenth century already on the decline, the wealthy and unprivileged opposition beginning in its turn to constitute itself into a quasi-aristocratic body as against the mass of the poorer citizens and those outside the pale of municipal rights. the latter class was now becoming an important and turbulent factor in the life of the larger cities. the craft-guilds, consisting of the body of non-patrician citizens, were naturally in general dominated by their most wealthy section. we may here observe that the development of the mediæval township from its earliest beginnings up to the period of its decay in the sixteenth century was almost uniformly as follows:[ ] at first the township, or rather what later became the township, was represented entirely by the circle of _gentes_ or group-families originally settled within the mark or district on which the town subsequently stood. these constituted the original aristocracy from which the tradition of the _ehrbarkeit_ dated. in those towns founded by the romans, such as trier, aachen, and others, the case was of course a little different. there the origin of the _ehrbarkeit_ may possibly be sought for in the leading families of the roman provincials who were in occupation of the town at the coming of the barbarians in the fifth century. round the original nucleus there gradually accreted from the earliest period of the middle ages the freed men of the surrounding districts, fugitive serfs, and others who sought that protection and means of livelihood in a community under the immediate domination of a powerful lord, which they could not otherwise obtain when their native village-community had perchance been raided by some marauding noble and his retainers. circumstances, amongst others the fact that the community to which they attached themselves had already adopted commerce and thus become a guild of merchants, led to the differentiation of industrial functions amongst the new-comers, and thus to the establishment of craft-guilds. another origin of the townsfolk, which must not be overlooked, is to be found in the attendants on the palace-fortress of some great overlord. in the early middle ages all such magnates kept up an extensive establishment, the greater ecclesiastical lords no less than the secular often having several castles. in germany this origin of the township was furthered by charles the great, who established schools and other civil institutions, with a magistrate at their head, round many of the palace-castles that he founded. "a new epoch," says von maurer, "begins with the villa-foundations of charles the great and his ordinances respecting them, for that his celebrated capitularies in this connection were intended for his newly established villas is self-evident. in that proceeding he obviously had the roman villa in his mind, and on the model of this he rather further developed the previously existing court and villa constitution than completely reorganized it. hence one finds even in his new creations the old foundation again, albeit on a far more extended plan, the economical side of such villa-colonies being especially more completely and effectively ordered."[ ] the expression "palatine," as applied to certain districts, bears testimony to the fact here referred to. as above said, the development of the township was everywhere on the same lines. the aim of the civic community was always to remove as far as possible the power which controlled them. their worst condition was when they were immediately overshadowed by a territorial magnate. when their immediate lord was a prince, the area of whose feudal jurisdiction was more extensive, his rule was less oppressively felt, and their condition was therefore considerably improved. it was only, however, when cities were "free of the empire" (_reichsfrei_) that they attained the ideal of mediæval civic freedom. it follows naturally from the conditions described that there was, in the first place, a conflict between the primitive inhabitants as embodied in their corporate society and the territorial lord, whoever he might be. no sooner had the township acquired a charter of freedom or certain immunities than a new antagonism showed itself between the ancient corporation of the city and the trade-guilds, these representing the later accretions. the territorial lord (if any) now sided, usually though not always, with the patrician party. but the guilds, nevertheless, succeeded in ultimately wresting many of the leading public offices from the exclusive possession of the patrician families. meanwhile the leading men of the guilds had become _hommes arrivés_. they had acquired wealth, and influence which was in many cases hereditary in their family, and by the beginning of the sixteenth century they were confronted with the more or less veiled and more or less open opposition of the smaller guildsmen and of the newest comers into the city, the shiftless proletariat of serfs and free peasants, whom economic pressure was fast driving within the walls, owing to the changed conditions of the times. the peasant of the period was of three kinds: the _leibeigener_ or serf, who was little better than a slave, who cultivated his lord's domain, upon whom unlimited burdens might be fixed, and who was in all respects amenable to the will of his lord; the _höriger_ or villein, whose services were limited alike in kind and amount; and the _freier_ or free peasant, who merely paid what was virtually a quit-rent in kind or in money for being allowed to retain his holding or status in the rural community under the protection of the manorial lord. the last was practically the counterpart of the mediæval english copyholder. the germans had undergone essentially the same transformations in social organization as the other populations of europe. the barbarian nations at the time of their great migration in the fifth century were organized on a tribal and village basis. the head man was simply _primus inter pares_. in the course of their wanderings the successful military leader acquired powers and assumed a position that was unknown to the previous times, when war, such as it was, was merely inter-tribal and inter-clannish, and did not involve the movements of peoples and federations of tribes, and when, in consequence, the need of permanent military leaders or for the semblance of a military hierarchy had not arisen. the military leader now placed himself at the head of the older social organization, and associated with his immediate followers on terms approaching equality. a well-known illustration of this is the incident of the vase taken from the cathedral of rheims, and of chlodowig's efforts to rescue it from his independent comrade-in-arms. the process of the development of the feudal polity of the middle ages is, of course, a very complicated one, owing to the various strands that go to compose it. in addition to the german tribes themselves, who moved _en masse_, carrying with them their tribal and village organization, under the overlordship of the various military leaders, were the indigenous inhabitants amongst whom they settled. the latter in the country districts, even in many of the territories within the roman empire, still largely retained the primitive communal organization. the new-comers, therefore, found in the rural communities a social system already in existence into which they naturally fitted, but as an aristocratic body over against the conquered inhabitants. the latter, though not all reduced to a servile condition, nevertheless held their land from the conquering body under conditions which constituted them an order of freemen inferior to the new-comers. to put the matter briefly, the military leaders developed into barons and princes, and in some cases the nominal centralization culminated, as in france and england, in the kingly office; while, in germany and italy, it took the form of the revived imperial office, the spiritual overlord of the whole of christendom being the pope, who had his vassals in the prince-prelates and subordinate ecclesiastical holders. in addition to the princes sprung originally from the military leaders of the migratory nations, there were their free followers, who developed ultimately into the knighthood or inferior nobility; the inhabitants of the conquered districts forming a distinct class of inferior freemen or of serfs. but the essentially personal relation with which the whole process started soon degenerated into one based on property. the most primitive form of property--land--was at the outset what was termed _allodial_, at least among the conquering race, from every social group having the possession, under the trusteeship of his head man, of the land on which it settled. now, owing to the necessities of the time, owing to the need of protection, to violence, and to religious motives, it passed into the hands of the overlord, temporal or spiritual, as his possession; and the inhabitants, even in the case of populations which had not been actually conquered, became his vassals, villeins, or serfs, as the case might be. the process by means of which this was accomplished was more or less gradual; indeed, the entire extinction of communal rights, whereby the notion of private ownership is fully realized, was not universally effected even in the west of europe till within a measurable distance of our own time.[ ] from the foregoing it will be understood that the oppression of the peasant, under the feudalism of the middle ages, and especially of the later middle ages, was viewed by him as an infringement of his rights. during the period of time constituting mediæval history, the peasant, though he often slumbered, yet often started up to a sudden consciousness of his position. the memory of primitive communism was never quite extinguished, and the continual peasant-revolts of the middle ages, though immediately occasioned, probably, by some fresh invasion, by which it was sought to tear from the "common man" yet another shred of his surviving rights, always had in the background the ideal, vague though it may have been, of his ancient freedom. such, undoubtedly, was the meaning of the jacquerie in france, with its wild and apparently senseless vengeance; of the wat tyler revolt in england, with its systematic attempt to envisage the vague tradition of the primitive village community in the legends of the current ecclesiastical creed; of the numerous revolts in flanders and north germany; to a large extent of the hussite movement in bohemia, under ziska; of the rebellion led by george doza in hungary; and, as we shall see in the body of the present work, of the social movements of reformation germany, in which, with the partial exception of ket's rebellion in england a few years later, we may consider them as virtually coming to an end. for the movements in question were distinctly the last of their kind. the civil wars of religion in france, and the great rebellion in england against charles i, which also assumed a religious colouring, open a new era in popular revolts. in the latter, particularly, we have clearly before us the attempt of the new middle class of town and country, the independent citizen, and the now independent yeoman, to assert supremacy over the old feudal estates or orders. the new conditions had swept away the special revolutionary tradition of the mediæval period, whose golden age lay in the past with its communal-holding and free men with equal rights on the basis of the village organization--rights which with every century the peasant felt more and more slipping away from him. the place of this tradition was now taken by an ideal of individual freedom, apart from any social bond, and on a basis merely political, the way for which had been prepared by that very conception of individual proprietorship on the part of the landlord, against which the older revolutionary sentiment had protested. a most powerful instrument in accommodating men's minds to this change of view, in other words, to the establishment of the new individualistic principle, was the roman or civil law, which, at the period dealt with in the present book, had become the basis whereon disputed points were settled in the imperial courts. in this respect also, though to a lesser extent, may be mentioned the canon or ecclesiastical law--consisting of papal decretals on various points which were founded partially on the roman or civil law--a juridical system which also fully and indeed almost exclusively recognized the individual holding of property as the basis of civil society (albeit not without a recognition of social duties on the part of the owner). learning was now beginning to differentiate itself from the ecclesiastical profession, and to become a definite vocation in its various branches. crowds of students flocked to the seats of learning, and, as travelling scholars, earned a precarious living by begging or "professing" medicine, assisting the illiterate for a small fee, or working wonders, such as casting horoscopes, or performing thaumaturgic tricks. the professors of law were now the most influential members of the imperial council and of the various imperial courts. in central europe, as elsewhere, notably in france, the civil lawyers were always on the side of the centralizing power, alike against the local jurisdictions and against the peasantry. the effects of the conquest of constantinople in , and the consequent dispersion of the accumulated greek learning of the byzantine empire, had, by the end of the fifteenth century, begun to show themselves in a notable modification of european culture. the circle of the seven sciences, the quadrivium, and the trivium, in other words, the mediæval system of learning, began to be antiquated. scholastic philosophy, that is to say, the controversy of the scotists and the thomists, was now growing out of date. plato was extolled at the expense of aristotle. greek, and even hebrew, was eagerly sought after. latin itself was assuming another aspect; the renaissance latin is classical latin, whilst mediæval latin is dog-latin. the physical universe now began to be inquired into with a perfectly fresh interest, but the inquiries were still conducted under the ægis of the old habits of thought. the universe was still a system of mysterious affinities and magical powers to the investigator of the renaissance period, as it had been before. there was this difference, however; it was now attempted to _systematize_ the magical theory of the universe. while the common man held a store of traditional magical beliefs respecting the natural world, the learned man deduced these beliefs from the neo-platonists, from the kabbala, from hermes trismegistos, and from a variety of other sources, and attempted to arrange this somewhat heterogeneous mass of erudite lore into a system of organized thought. the humanistic movement, so called, the movement, that is, of revived classical scholarship, had already begun in germany before what may be termed the _sturm und drang_ of the renaissance proper. foremost among the exponents of this older humanism, which dates from the middle of the fifteenth century, were nicholas of cusa and his disciples, rudolph agricola, alexander hegius, and jacob wimpheling. but the new humanism and the new renaissance movement generally throughout northern europe centred chiefly in two personalities, johannes reuchlin and desiderius erasmus. reuchlin was the founder of the new hebrew learning, which up till then had been exclusively confined to the synagogue. it was he who unlocked the mysteries of the kabbala to the gentile world. but though it is for his introduction of hebrew study that reuchlin is best known to posterity, yet his services in the diffusion and popularization of classical culture were enormous. the dispute of reuchlin with the ecclesiastical authorities at cologne excited literary germany from end to end. it was the first general skirmish of the new and the old spirit in central and northern europe. but the man who was destined to become the personification of the humanist movement, us the new learning was called, was erasmus. the illegitimate son of the daughter of a rotterdam burgher, he early became famous on account of his erudition, in spite of the adverse circumstances of his youth. like all the scholars of his time, he passed rapidly from one country to another, settling finally in basel, then at the height of its reputation as a literary and typographical centre. the whole intellectual movement of the time centres round erasmus, as is particularly noticeable in the career of ulrich von hutten, dealt with in the course of this history. as instances of the classicism of the period, we may note the uniform change of the patronymic into the classical equivalent, or some classicism supposed to be the equivalent. thus the name erasmus itself was a classicism of his father's name gerhard, the german name muth became mutianus, trittheim became trithemius, schwarzerd became melanchthon, and so on. we have spoken of the other side of the intellectual movement of the period. this other side showed itself in mystical attempts at reducing nature to law in the light of the traditional problems which had been set, to wit, those of alchemy and astrology: the discovery of the philosopher's stone, of the transmutation of metals, of the elixir of life, and of the correspondences between the planets and terrestrial bodies. among the most prominent exponents of these investigations may be mentioned philippus von hohenheim or paracelsus, and cornelius agrippa of nettesheim, in germany, nostrodamus in france, and cardanus in italy. these men represent a tendency which was pursued by thousands in the learned world. it was a tendency which had the honour of being the last in history to embody itself in a distinct mythical cycle. "doctor faustus" may probably have had an historical germ; but in any case "doctor faustus," as known to legend and to literature, is merely a personification of the practical side of the new learning. the minds of men were waking up to interest in nature. there was one man, copernicus, who, at least partially, struck through the traditionary atmosphere in which nature was enveloped, and to his insight we owe the foundation of astronomical science; but otherwise the whole intellectual atmosphere was charged with occult views. in fact, the learned world of the sixteenth century would have found itself quite at home in the pretensions and fancies of our modern theosophist and psychical researchers, with their notions of making erstwhile miracles non-miraculous, of reducing the marvellous to being merely the result of penetration on the part of certain seers and investigators of the secret powers of nature. every wonder-worker was received with open arms by learned and unlearned alike. the possibility of producing that which was out of the ordinary range of natural occurrences was not seriously doubted by any. spells and enchantments, conjurations, calculations of nativities, were matters earnestly investigated at universities and courts. there were, of course, persons who were eager to detect impostors: and amongst them some of the most zealous votaries of the occult arts--for example, trittheim and the learned humanist, conrad muth or mutianus, both of whom professed to have regarded faust as a fraudulent person. but this did not imply any disbelief in the possibility of the alleged pretensions. in the faust-myth is embodied, moreover, the opposition between the new learning on its physical side and the old religious faith. the theory that the investigation of the mysteries of nature had in it something sinister and diabolical which had been latent throughout the middle ages, was brought into especial prominence by the new religious movements. the popular feeling that the line between natural magic and the black art was somewhat doubtful, that the one had a tendency to shade off into the other, now received fresh stimulus. the notion of compacts with the devil was a familiar one, and that they should be resorted to for the purpose of acquiring an acquaintance with hidden lore and magical powers seemed quite natural. it will have already been seen from what we have said that the religious revolt was largely economical in its causes. the intense hatred, common alike to the smaller nobility, the burghers, and the peasants, of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, was obviously due to its ever-increasing exactions. the chief of these were the _pallium_ or price paid to the pope for an ecclesiastical investiture; the _annates_ or first year's revenues of a church fief; and the _tithes_ which were of two kinds, the great tithe paid in agricultural produce, and the small tithe consisting in a head of cattle. the latter seems to have been especially obnoxious to the peasant. the sudden increase in the sale of indulgences, like the proverbial last straw, broke down the whole system; but any other incident might have served the purpose equally well. the prince-prelates were in some instances, at the outset, not averse to the movement; they would not have been indisposed to have converted their territories into secular fiefs of the empire. it was only after this hope had been abandoned that they definitely took sides with the papal authority. the opening of the sixteenth century thus presents to us mediæval society, social, political, and religious, in germany as elsewhere, "run to seed." the feudal organization was outwardly intact; the peasant, free and bond, formed the foundation; above him came the knighthood or inferior nobility; parallel with them was the _ehrbarkeit_ of the less important towns, holding from mediate lordship; above these towns came the free cities, which held immediately from the empire, organized into three bodies, a governing council in which the _ehrbarkeit_ usually predominated, where they did not entirely compose it, a common council composed of the masters of the various guilds, and the general council of the free citizens. those journeymen, whose condition was fixed from their being outside the guild-organizations, usually had guilds of their own. above the free cities in the social pyramid stood the princes of the empire, lay and ecclesiastic, with the electoral college, or the seven electoral princes, forming their head. these constituted the feudal "estates" of the empire. then came the "king of the romans"; and, as the apex of the whole, the pope in one function and the emperor in another, crowned the edifice. the supremacy, not merely of the pope but of the complementary temporal head of the mediæval polity, the emperor, was acknowledged in a shadowy way, even in countries such as france and england, which had no direct practical connection with the empire. for, as the spiritual power was also temporal, so the temporal political power had, like everything else in the middle ages, a quasi-religious significance. the minds of men in speculative matters, in theology, in philosophy, and in jurisprudence, were outgrowing the old doctrines, at least in their old forms. in theology the notion of salvation by the faith of the individual, and not through the fact of belonging to a corporate organization, which was the mediæval conception, was latent in the minds of multitudes of religious persons before expression was given to it by luther. the aversion to scholasticism, bred by the revived knowledge of the older greek philosophies in the original, produced a curious amalgam; but scholastic habits of thought were still dominant through it all. the new theories of nature amounted to little more than old superstitions, systematized and reduced to rule, though here and there the later physical science, based on observation and experiment, peeped through. in jurisprudence the epoch is marked by the final conquest of the roman civil law, in its spirit, where not in its forms, over the old customs, pre-feudal and feudal. the subject of germany during that closing period of the middle ages, characterized by what is known as the revival of learning and the reformation, is so important for an understanding of later german history and the especial characteristics of the german culture of later times, that we propose, even at the risk of wearying some readers, to recapitulate in as short a space as possible, compatible with clearness, the leading conditions of the times--conditions which, directly or indirectly, have moulded the whole subsequent course of german development. owing to the geographical situation of germany and to the political configuration of its peoples and other causes, mediæval conditions of life as we find them in the early sixteenth century left more abiding traces on the german mind and on german culture than was the case with some other nations. the time was out of joint in a very literal sense of that somewhat hackneyed phrase. at the opening of the sixteenth century every established institution--political, social, and religious--was shaken and showed the rents and fissures caused by time and by the growth of a new life underneath it. the empire--the holy roman--was in a parlous way as regarded its cohesion. the power of the princes, the representatives of local centralized authority, was proving itself too strong for the power of the emperor, the recognized representative of centralized authority for the whole german-speaking world. this meant the undermining and eventual disruption of the smaller social and political unities,[ ] the knightly manors with the privileges attached to the knightly class generally. the knighthood, or lower nobility, had acted as a sort of buffer between the princes of the empire and the imperial power, to which they often looked for protection against their immediate overlord or their powerful neighbour--the prince. the imperial power, in consequence, found the lower nobility a bulwark against its princely vassals. economic changes, the suddenly increased demand for money owing to the rise of the "world-market," new inventions in the art of war, new methods of fighting, the rapidly growing importance of artillery, and the increase of the mercenary soldier, had rendered the lower nobility, as an institution, a factor in the political situation which was fast becoming negligible. the abortive campaign of franz von sickingen in only showed its hopeless weakness. the _reichsregiment_, or imperial governing council, a body instituted by maximilian, had lamentably failed to effect anything towards cementing together the various parts of the unwieldy fabric. finally, at the reichstag held in nürnberg, in december , at which all the estates were represented, the _reichsregiment_, to all intents and purposes, collapsed. the reichstag in question was summoned ostensibly for the purpose of raising a subsidy for the hungarians in their struggle against the advancing power of the turks. the turkish movement westward was, of course, throughout this period, the most important question of what in modern phraseology would be called "foreign politics." the princes voted the proposal of the subsidy without consulting the representatives of the cities, who knew the heaviest part of the burden was to fall upon themselves. the urgency of the situation, however, weighed with them, with the result that they submitted after considerable remonstrance. the princes, in conjunction with their rivals, the lower nobility, next proceeded to attack the commercial monopolies, the first fruits of the rising capitalism, the appanage mainly of the trading companies and the merchant magnates of the towns. this was too much for civic patience. the city representatives, who, of course, belonged to the civic aristocracy, waxed indignant. the feudal orders went on to claim the right to set up vexatious tariffs in their respective territories, whereby to hinder artificially the free development of the new commercial capitalist. this filled up the cup of endurance of the magnates of the city. the city representatives refused their consent to the turkish subsidy and withdrew. the next step was the sending of a deputation to the young emperor karl, who was in spain, and whose sanction to the decrees of the reichstag was necessary before their promulgation. the result of the conference held on this occasion was a decision to undermine the _reichsregiment_ and weaken the power of the princes, by whom and by whose tools it was manned, as a factor in the imperial constitution. as for the princes, while some of their number were positively opposed to it, others cared little one way or the other. their chief aim was to strengthen and consolidate their power within the limits of their own territories, and a weak empire was perhaps better adapted for effecting this purpose than a stronger one, even though certain of their own order had a controlling voice in its administration. as already hinted, the collapse of the rebellious knighthood under sickingen, a few weeks later, clearly showed the political drift of the situation in the _haute politique_ of the empire. the rising capitalists of the city, the monopolists, merchant princes, and syndicates, are the theme of universal invective throughout this period. to them the rapid and enormous rise in prices during the early years of the sixteenth century, the scarcity of money consequent on the increased demand for it, and the impoverishment of large sections of the population, were attributed by noble and peasant alike. the whole trend of public opinion, in short, outside the wealthier burghers of the larger cities--the class immediately interested--was adverse to the condition of things created by the new world-market, and by the new class embodying it. at present it was a small class, the only one that gained by it, and that gained at the expense of all the other classes. some idea of the class-antagonisms of the period may be gathered from the statement of ulrich von hutten about the robber-knights already spoken of, in his dialogue entitled "predones," to the effect that there were four orders of robbers in germany--the _knights_, the _lawyers_, the _priests_, and the _merchants_ (meaning especially the new capitalist merchant-traders or syndicates). of these, he declares the robber-knights to be the least harmful. this is naturally only to be expected from so gallant a champion of his order, the friend and abettor of sickingen. nevertheless, the seriousness of the robber-knight evil, the toleration of which in principle was so deeply ingrained in the public opinion of large sections of the population, may be judged from the abortive attempts made to stop it, at the instance alike of princes and of cities, who on this point, if on no other, had a common interest. in , for example, at the reichstag held in gelnhausen in that year, certain of the highest princes of the empire made a representation that, at least, the knights should permit the gathering in of the harvest and the vintage in peace. but even this modest demand was found to be impracticable. the knights had to live in the style required by their status, as they declared, and where other means were more and more failing them, their ancient right or privilege of plunder was indispensable to their order. still, hutten was right so far in declaring the knight the most harmless kind of robber, inasmuch as, direct as were his methods, his sun was obviously setting, while as much could not be said of the other classes named; the merchant and the lawyer were on the rise, and the priest, although about to receive a check, was not destined speedily to disappear, or to change fundamentally the character of his activity. the feudal orders saw their own position seriously threatened by the new development of things economic in the cities. the guilds were becoming crystallized into close corporations of wealthy families, constituting a kind of second _ehrbarkeit_ or town patriciate; the numbers of the landless and unprivileged, with at most a bare footing in the town constitution, were increasing in an alarming proportion; the journeyman workman was no longer a stage between apprentice and master craftsman, but a permanent condition embodied in a large and growing class. all these symptoms indicated an extraordinary economic revolution, which was making itself at first directly felt only in the larger cities, but the results of which were dislocating the social relations of the middle ages throughout the whole empire. perhaps the most striking feature in this dislocation was the transition from direct barter to exchange through the medium of money, and the consequent suddenly increased importance of the rôle played by usury in the social life of the time. the scarcity of money is a perennial theme of complaint for which the new large capitalist-monopolists are made responsible. but the class in question was itself only a symptom of the general economic change. the seeming scarcity of money, though but the consequence of the increased demand for a circulating medium, was explained, to the disadvantage of the hated monopolists, by a crude form of the "mercantile" theory. the new merchant, in contradistinction to the master craftsman working _en famille_ with his apprentices and assistants, now often stood entirely outside the processes of production, as speculator or middleman; and he, and still more the syndicate who fulfilled the like functions on a larger scale (especially with reference to foreign trade), came to be regarded as particularly obnoxious robbers, because interlopers to boot. unlike the knights, they were robbers with a new face. the lawyers were detested for much the same reason (cf. _german society at the close of the middle ages_, pp. - ). the professional lawyer class, since its final differentiation from the clerk class in general, had made the roman or civil law its speciality, and had done its utmost everywhere to establish the principles of the latter in place of the old feudal law of earlier mediæval europe. the roman law was especially favourable to the pretensions of the princes, and, from an economic point of view, of the nobility in general, inasmuch as land was on the new legal principles treated as the private property of the lord; over which he had full power of ownership, and not, as under feudal and canon law, as a _trust_ involving duties as well as rights. the class of jurists was itself of comparatively recent growth in central europe, and its rapid increase in every portion of the empire dated from less than half a century back. it may be well understood, therefore, why these interlopers, who ignored the ancient customary law of the country, and who by means of an alien code deprived the poor freeholder or copyholder of his land, or justified new and unheard-of exactions on the part of his lord on the plea that the latter might do what he liked with his own, were regarded by the peasant and humble man as robbers whose depredations were, if anything, even more resented than those of their old and tried enemy--the plundering knight. the priest, especially of the regular orders, was indeed an old foe, but his offence had now become very rank. from the middle of the fifteenth century onwards the stream of anti-clerical literature waxes alike in volume and intensity. the "monk" had become the object of hatred and scorn throughout the whole lay world. this view of the "regular" was shared, moreover, by not a few of the secular clergy themselves. humanists, who were subsequently ardent champions of the church against luther and the protestant reformation--men such as murner and erasmus--had been previously the bitterest satirists of the "friar" and the "monk." amongst the great body of the laity, however, though the religious orders came in perhaps for the greater share of animosity, the secular priesthood was not much better off in popular favour, whilst the upper members of the hierarchy were naturally regarded as the chief blood-suckers of the german people in the interests of rome. the vast revenues which both directly in the shape of _pallium_ (the price of "investiture"), _annates_ (first year's revenues of appointments), _peter's-pence_, and recently of _indulgences_--the latter the by no means most onerous exaction, since it was voluntary--all these things, taken together with what was indirectly obtained from germany, through the expenditure of german ecclesiastics on their visits to rome and by the crowd of parasitics, nominal holders of german benefices merely, but real recipients of german substance, who danced attendance at the vatican--obviously constituted an enormous drain on the resources of the country from all the lay classes alike, of which wealth the papal chair could be plainly seen to be the receptacle. if we add to these causes of discontent the vastness in number of the regular clergy, the "friars" and "monks" already referred to, who consumed, but were only too obviously unproductive, it will be sufficiently plain that the protestant reformation had something very much more than a purely speculative basis to work upon. religious reformers there had been in germany throughout the middle ages, but their preachings had taken no deep root. the powerful personality of the monk of wittenberg found an economic soil ready to hand in which his teachings could fructify, and hence the world-historic result. the peasant revolts, sporadic the middle ages through, had for the half-century preceding the reformation been growing in frequency and importance, but it needed nevertheless the sudden impulse, the powerful jar given by a luther in , and the series of blows with which it was followed during the years immediately succeeding, to crystallize the mass of fluid discontent and social unrest in its various forms and give it definite direction. the blow which was primarily struck in the region of speculative thought and ecclesiastical relations did not stop there in its effects. the attack on the dominant theological system--at first merely on certain comparatively unessential outworks of that system--necessarily of its own force developed into an attack on the organization representing it, and on the economic basis of the latter. the battle against ecclesiastical abuses, again, in its turn, focussed the ever-smouldering discontent with abuses in general; and this time, not in one district only, but simultaneously over the whole of germany. the movement inaugurated by luther gave to the peasant groaning under the weight of baronial oppression, and the small handicraftsman suffering under his _ehrbarkeit_, a rallying-point and a rallying cry. in history there is no movement which starts up full grown from the brain of any one man, or even from the mind of any one generation of men, like athene from the head of zeus. the historical epoch which marks the crisis of the given change is, after all, little beyond a prominent landmark--a parting of the ways--led up to by a long preparatory development. this is nowhere more clearly illustrated than in the reformation and its accompanying movements. the ideas and aspirations animating the social, political, and intellectual revolt of the sixteenth century can each be traced back to, at least, the beginning of the fifteenth century, and in many cases farther still. the way the german of luther's time looked at the burning questions of the hour was not essentially different from the way the english wyclifites and lollards, or the bohemian hussites and taborites viewed them. there was obviously a difference born of the later time, but this difference was not, i repeat, essential. the changes which, a century previously, were only just beginning, had, meanwhile, made enormous progress. the disintegration of the material conditions of mediæval social life was now approaching its completion, forced on by the inventions and discoveries of the previous half-century. but the ideals of the mass of men, learned and simple, were still in the main the ideals that had been prevalent throughout the whole of the later middle ages. men still looked at the world and at social progress through mediæval spectacles. the chief difference was that now ideas which had previously been confined to special localities, or had only had a sporadic existence among the people at large, had become general throughout large portions of the population. the invention of the art of printing was, of course, largely instrumental in effecting this change. the comparatively sudden popularization of doctrines previously confined to special circles was the distinguishing feature of the intellectual life of the first half of the sixteenth century. among the many illustrations of the foregoing which might be given, we are specially concerned here to note the sudden popularity during this period of two imaginary constitutions dating from early in the previous century. from the fourteenth century we find traces, perhaps suggested by the prester john legend, of a deliverer in the shape of an emperor who should come from the east, who should be the last of his name; should right all wrongs; should establish the empire in universal justice and peace; and, in short, should be the forerunner of the kingdom of christ on earth. this notion or mystical hope took increasing root during the fifteenth century, and is to be found in many respects embodied in the spurious constitutions mentioned, which bore respectively the names of the emperors sigismund and friedrich. it was in this form that the hussite theories were absorbed by the german mind. the hopes of the messianists of the "holy roman empire" were centred at one time in the emperor sigismund. later on the rôle of messiah was carried over to his successor, friedrich iii, upon whom the hopes of the german people were cast. _the reformation of kaiser sigismund_, originally written about , went through several editions before the end of the century, and was as many times reprinted during the opening years of luther's movement. like its successor, that of friedrich, the scheme attributed to sigismund proposed the abolition of the recent abuses of feudalism, of the new lawyer class, and of the symptoms already making themselves felt of the change from barter to money payments. it proposed, in short, a return to primitive conditions. it was a scheme of reform on a biblical basis, embracing many elements of a distinctly communistic character, as communism was then understood. it was pervaded with the idea of equality in the spirit of the taborite literature of the age, from which it took its origin. the so-called _reformation of kaiser sigismund_ dealt especially with the peasantry--the serfs and villeins of the time; that attributed to friedrich was mainly concerned with the rising population of the towns. all towns and communes were to undergo a constitutional transformation. handicraftsmen should receive just wages; all roads should be free; taxes, dues, and levies should be abolished; trading capital was to be limited to a maximum of , _gulden_; all surplus capital should fall to the imperial authorities, who should lend it in case of need to poor handicraftsmen at per cent.; uniformity of coinage and of weights and measures was to be decreed, together with the abolition of the roman and canon law. legists, priests, and princes were to be severely dealt with. but, curiously enough, the middle and lower nobility, especially the knighthood, were more tenderly handled, being treated as themselves victims of their feudal superiors, lay and ecclesiastic, especially the latter. in this connection the secularization of ecclesiastical fiefs was strongly insisted on. as men found, however, that neither the emperor sigismund, nor the emperor friedrich iii, nor the emperor maximilian, upon each of whom successively their hopes had been cast as the possible realization of the german messiah of earlier dreams, fulfilled their expectations, nay, as each in succession implicitly belied these hopes, showing no disposition whatever to act up to the views promulgated in their names, the tradition of the imperial deliverer gradually lost its force and popularity. by the opening of the lutheran reformation the opinion had become general that a change would not come from above, but that the initiative must rest with the people themselves--with the classes specially oppressed by existing conditions, political, economic, and ecclesiastical--to effect by their own exertions such a transformation as was shadowed forth in the spurious constitutions. these, and similar ideas, were now everywhere taken up and elaborated, often in a still more radical sense than the original; and they everywhere found hearers and adherents. the "true inwardness" of the change, of which the protestant reformation represented the ideological side, meant the transformation of society from a basis mainly corporative and co-operative to one individualistic in its essential character. the whole polity of the middle ages industrial, social, political, ecclesiastical, was based on the principle of the group or the community--ranging in hierarchical order from the trade-guild to the town corporation; from the town corporation through the feudal orders to the imperial throne itself; from the single monastery to the order as a whole; and from the order as a whole to the complete hierarchy of the church as represented by the papal chair. the principle of this social organization was now breaking down. the modern and bourgeois conception of the autonomy of the individual in all spheres of life was beginning to affirm itself. the most definite expression of this new principle asserted itself in the religious sphere. the individualism which was inherent in early christianity, but which was present as a speculative content merely, had not been strong enough to counteract even the remains of corporate tendencies on the material side of things, in the decadent roman empire; and infinitely less so the vigorous group-organization and sentiment of the northern nations, with their tribal society and communistic traditions still mainly intact. and these were the elements out of which mediæval society arose. naturally enough the new religious tendencies in revolt against the mediæval corporate christianity of the catholic church seized upon this individualistic element in christianity, declaring the chief end of religion to be a personal salvation, for the attainment of which the individual himself was sufficing, apart from church organization and church tradition. this served as a valuable destructive weapon for the iconoclasts in their attack on ecclesiastical privilege; consequently, in religion, this doctrine of individualism rapidly made headway. but in more material matters the old corporative instinct was still too strong and the conditions were as yet too imperfectly ripe for the speedy triumph of individualism. the conflict of the two tendencies is curiously exhibited in the popular movements of the reformation-time. as enemies of the decaying and obstructive forms of feudalism and church organization, the peasant and handicraftsman were necessarily on the side of the new individualism. so far as negation and destruction were concerned, they were working apparently for the new order of things--that new order of things which _longo intervallo_ has finally landed us in the developed capitalistic individualism of the twentieth century. yet when we come to consider their constructive programmes we find the positive demands put forward are based either on ideal conceptions derived from reminiscences of primitive communism, or else that they distinctly postulate a return to a state of things--the old mark-organisation--upon which the later feudalism had in various ways encroached, and finally superseded. hence they were, in these respects, not merely not in the trend of contemporary progress, but in actual opposition to it; and therefore, as lassalle has justly remarked, they were necessarily and in any case doomed to failure in the long run. this point should not be lost sight of in considering the various popular movements of the earlier half of the sixteenth century. the world was still essentially mediæval; men were still dominated by mediæval ways of looking at things and still immersed in mediæval conditions of life. it is true that out of this mediæval soil the new individualistic society was beginning to grow, but its manifestations were as yet not so universally apparent as to force a recognition of their real meaning. it was still possible to regard the various symptoms of change, numerous as they were, and far-reaching as we now see them to have been, as sporadic phenomena, as rank but unessential overgrowths on the old society, which it was possible by pruning and the application of other suitable remedies to get rid of, and thereby to restore a state of pristine health in the body political and social. biblical phrases and the notion of divine justice now took the place in the popular mind formerly occupied by church and emperor. all the then oppressed classes of society--the small peasant, half villein, half free-man; the landless journeyman and town-proletarian; the beggar by the wayside; the small master, crushed by usury or tyrannized over by his wealthier colleague in the guild, or by the town-patriciate; even the impoverished knight, or the soldier of fortune defrauded of his pay; in short, all with whom times were bad, found consolation for their wants and troubles, and at the same time an incentive to action, in the notion of a divine justice which should restore all things, and the advent of which was approaching. all had biblical phrases tending in the direction of their immediate aspirations in their mouths. as bearing on the development and propaganda of the new ideas, the existence of a new intellectual class, rendered possible by the new method of exchange through money (as opposed to that of barter), which for a generation past had been in full swing in the larger towns, must not be forgotten. formerly land had been the essential condition of livelihood; now it was no longer so. the "universal equivalent," money, conjoined with the printing press, was rendering a literary class proper, for the first time, possible. in the same way the teacher, physician, and the small lawyer were enabled to subsist as followers of independent professions, apart from the special service of the church or as part of the court-retinue of some feudal potentate. to these we must add a fresh and very important section of the intellectual class which also now for the first time acquired an independent existence--to wit, that of the public official or functionary. this change, although only one of many, is itself specially striking as indicating the transition from the barbaric civilization of the middle ages to the beginnings of the civilization of the modern world. we have, in short, before us, as already remarked, a period in which the middle ages, whilst still dominant, have their force visibly sapped by the growth of a new life. to sum up the chief features of this new life: industrially, we have the decline of the old system of production in the countryside in which each manor or, at least, each district, was for the most part self-sufficing and self-supporting, where production was almost entirely for immediate use, and only the surplus was exchanged, and where such exchange as existed took place exclusively under the form of barter. in place of this, we find now something more than the beginnings of a national-market and distinct traces of that of a world-market. in the towns the change was even still more marked. here we have a sudden and hothouse-like development of the influence of money. the guild-system, originally designed for associations of craftsmen, for which the chief object was the man and the work, and not the mere acquirement of profit, was changing its character. the guilds were becoming close corporations of privileged capitalists, while a commercial capitalism, as already indicated, was raising its head in all the larger centres. in consequence of this state of things, the rapid development of the towns and of commerce, national and international, and the economic backwardness of the country-side, a landless proletariat was being formed, which meant on the one hand an enormous increase in mendicancy of all kinds, and on the other the creation of a permanent class of only casually-employed persons, whom the towns absorbed indeed, but for the most part with a new form of citizenship involving only the bare right of residence within the walls. similar social phenomena were, of course, manifesting themselves contemporaneously in other parts of europe; but in germany the change was more sudden than elsewhere, and was complicated by special political circumstances. the political and military functions of that for the mediæval polity of germany, so important class, the knighthood, or lower nobility, had by this time become practically obsolete, mainly owing to the changed conditions of warfare. but yet the class itself was numerous, and still, nominally at least, possessed of most of its old privileges and authority. the extent of its real power depended, however, upon the absence or weakness of a central power, whether imperial or state-territorial. the attempt to reconstitute the centralized power of the empire under maximilian, of which the _reichsregiment_ was the outcome, had, as we have seen, not proved successful. its means of carrying into effect its own decisions were hopelessly inadequate. in it was already weakened, and became little more than a "survival" after the reichstag held at nürnberg in . thus this body, which had been called into existence at the instance of the most powerful estates of the empire, was "shelved" with the practically unanimous consent of those who had been instrumental in creating it. but if the attempt at imperial centralization had failed, the force of circumstances tended partly for this very reason to favour state-territorial centralization. the aim of all the territorial magnates, the higher members of the imperial system, was to consolidate their own princely power within the territories owing them allegiance. this desire played a not unimportant part in the establishment of the reformation in certain parts of the country--for example, in würtemberg, and in the northern lands of east prussia which were subject to the grand master of the teutonic knights. the time was at hand for the transformation of the mediæval feudal territory, with its local jurisdictions and its ties of service, into the modern bureaucratic state, with its centralized administration and organized system of salaried functionaries subject to a central authority. the religious movement inaugurated by luther met and was absorbed by all these elements of change. it furnished them with a religious _flag_, under cover of which they could work themselves out. this was necessary in an age when the christian theology was unquestioningly accepted in one or another form by wellnigh all men, and hence entered as a practical belief into their daily thoughts and lives. the lutheran reformation, from its inception in down to the peasants' war of , at once absorbed, and was absorbed by, all the revolutionary elements of the time. up to the last-mentioned date it gathered revolutionary force year by year. but this was the turning point. with the crushing of the peasants' revolt and the decisively anti-popular attitude taken up by luther, the religious movement associated with him ceased any longer to have a revolutionary character. it henceforth became definitely subservient to the new interests of the wealthy and privileged classes, and as such completely severed itself from the more extreme popular reforming sects. up to this time, though by no means always approved by luther himself or his immediate followers, and in some cases even combated by them, the latter were nevertheless not looked upon with disfavour by large numbers of the rank and file of those who regarded martin luther as their leader. nothing could exceed the violence of language with which luther himself attacked all who stood in his way. not only the ecclesiastical, but also the secular heads of christendom came in for the coarsest abuse; "swine" and "water-bladder" are not the strongest epithets employed. but this was not all; in his _treatise on temporal authority and how far it should be obeyed_ (published in ), whilst professedly maintaining the thesis that the secular authority is a divine ordinance, luther none the less expressly justifies resistance to all human authority where its mandates are contrary to "the word of god." at the same time, he denounces in his customary energetic language the existing powers generally. "thou shouldst know," he says, "that since the beginning of the world a wise prince is truly a rare bird, but a pious prince is still more rare." "they" (princes) "are mostly the greatest fools or the greatest rogues on earth; therefore must we at all times expect from them the worst, and little good." farther on, he proceeds: "the common man begetteth understanding, and the plague of the princes worketh powerfully among the people and the common man. he will not, he cannot, he purposeth not, longer to suffer your tyranny and oppression. dear princes and lords, know ye what to do, for god will no longer endure it? the world is no more as of old time, when ye hunted and drove the people as your quarry. but think ye to carry on with much drawing of sword, look to it that one do not come who shall bid ye sheath it, and that not in god's name!" again, in a pamphlet published the following year, , relative to the reichstag of that year, luther proclaims that the judgment of god already awaits "the drunken and mad princes." he quotes the phrase: "deposuit potentes de sede" (luke i. ), and adds "that is your case, dear lords, even now when ye see it not!" after an admonition to subjects to refuse to go forth to war against the turks, or to pay taxes towards resisting them, who were ten times wiser and more godly than german princes, the pamphlet concludes with the prayer: "may god deliver us from ye all, and of his grace give us other rulers!" against such utterances as the above, the conventional exhortations to christian humility, non-resistance, and obedience to those in authority, would naturally not weigh in a time of popular ferment. so, until the momentous year , it was not unnatural that, notwithstanding his quarrel with münzer and the zwickau enthusiasts, and with others whom he deemed to be going "too far," luther should have been regarded as in some sort the central figure of the revolutionary movement, political and social, no less than religious. but the great literary and agitatory forces during the period referred to were of course either outside the lutheran movement proper or at most only on the fringe of it. a mass of broadsheets and pamphlets, specimens of some of which have been given in a former volume (_german society at the close of the middle ages_, pp. - ), poured from the press during these years, all with the refrain that things had gone on long enough, that the common man, be he peasant or townsman, could no longer bear it. but even more than the revolutionary literature were the wandering preachers effective in working up the agitation which culminated in the peasants' war of . the latter comprised men of all classes, from the impoverished knight, the poor priest, the escaped monk, or the travelling scholar, to the peasant, the mercenary soldier out of employment, the poor handicraftsman, of even the beggar. learned and simple, they wandered about from place to place, in the market place of the town, in the common field of the village, from one territory to another, preaching the gospel of discontent. their harangues were, as a rule, as much political as religious, and the ground tone of them all was the social or economic misery of the time, and the urgency of immediate action to bring about a change. as in the literature, so in the discourses, biblical phrases designed to give force to the new teaching abounded. the more thorough-going of these itinerant apostles openly aimed at nothing less than the establishment of a new christian commonwealth, or, as they termed it, "the kingdom of god on earth." footnotes: [ ] we are here, of course, dealing more especially with germany; but substantially the same course was followed in the development of municipalities in other parts of europe. [ ] _einleitung_, pp. , . [ ] cf. von maurer's _einleitung zur geschichte der mark-verfassung_; gomme's _village communities_; laveleye, _la propriété primitive_; stubbs's _constitutional history_; also maine's works. [ ] it should be remembered that germany at this time was cut up into feudal territorial divisions of all sizes, from the principality, or the prince-bishopric, to the knightly manor. every few miles, and sometimes less, there was a fresh territory, a fresh lord, and a fresh jurisdiction. chapter i the reformation movement the "great man" theory of history, formerly everywhere prevalent, and even now common among non-historical persons, has long regarded the reformation as the purely personal work of the augustine monk who was its central figure. the fallacy of this conception is particularly striking in the case of the reformation. not only was it preceded by numerous sporadic outbursts of religious revivalism which sometimes took the shape of opposition to the dominant form of christianity, though it is true they generally shaded off into mere movements of independent catholicism within the church; but there were in addition at least two distinct religious movements which led up to it, while much which, under the reformers of the sixteenth century, appears as a distinct and separate theology, is traceable in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the mystical movement connected with the names of meister eckhart and tauler. meister eckhart, whose free treatment of christian doctrines, in order to bring them into consonance with his mystical theology, had drawn him into conflict with the papacy, undoubtedly influenced luther through his disciple, tauler, and especially through the book which proceeded from the latter's school, the _deutsche theologie_. it is, however, in the much more important movement, which originated with wyclif and extended to central europe through huss, that we must look for the more obvious influences determining the course of religious development in germany. the wyclifite movement in england was less a doctrinal heterodoxy than a revolt against the papacy and the priestly hierarchy. mere theoretical speculations were seldom interfered with, but anything which touched their material interests at once aroused the vigilance of the clergy. it is noticeable that the diffusion of lollardism, that is of the ideas of wyclif, if not the cause of, was at least followed by the peasant rising under the leadership of john ball, a connection which is also visible in the tziska revolt following the hussite movement, and the peasants' war in germany which came on the heels of the lutheran reformation. how much huss was directly influenced by the teachings of wyclif is clear. the works of the latter were widely circulated throughout europe; for one of the advantages of the custom of writing in latin, which was universal during the middle ages, was that books of an important character were immediately current amongst all scholars without having, as now, to wait upon the caprice and ability of translators. huss read wyclif's works as the preparation for his theological degree, and subsequently made them his text-books when teaching at the university of prague. after his treacherous execution at constance, and the events which followed thereupon in bohemia, a number of hussite fugitives settled in southern germany, carrying with them the seeds of the new doctrines. an anonymous contemporary writer states that "to john huss and his followers are to be traced almost all those false principles concerning the power of the spiritual and temporal authorities and the possession of earthly goods and rights which before in bohemia, and now with us, have called forth revolt and rebellion, plunder, arson, and murder, and have shaken to its foundations the whole commonwealth. the poison of these false doctrines has been long flowing from bohemia into germany, and will produce the same desolating consequences wherever it spreads." the condition of the catholic church, against which the reformation movement generally was a protest, needs here to be made clear to the reader. the beginning of clerical disintegration is distinctly visible in the first half of the fourteenth century. the interdicts, as an institution, had ceased to be respected, and the priesthood itself began openly to sink itself in debauchery and to play fast and loose with the rites of the church. indulgences for a hundred years were readily granted for a consideration. the manufacture of relics became an organized branch of industry; and festivals of fools and festivals of asses were invented by the jovial priests themselves in travesty of sacred mysteries, as a welcome relaxation from the monotony of prescribed ecclesiastical ceremony. pilgrimages increased in number and frequency; new saints were created by the dozen; and the disbelief of the clergy in the doctrines they professed was manifest even to the most illiterate, whilst contempt for the ceremonies they practised was openly displayed in the performance of their clerical functions. an illustration of this is the joke of the priests related by luther, who were wont during the celebration of the mass, when the worshippers fondly imagined that the sacred formula of transubstantiation was being repeated, to replace the words _panis es et carnem fiebis_, "bread thou art and flesh thou shalt become," by _panis es et panis manebis_, "bread thou art and bread thou shalt remain." the scandals as regards clerical manners, growing, as they had been, for many generations, reached their climax in the early part of the sixteenth century. it was a common thing for priests to drive a roaring trade as moneylenders, landlords of alehouses and gambling dens, and even in some cases, brothel-keepers. papal ukases had proved ineffective to stem the current of clerical abuses. the regular clergy evoked even more indignation than the secular. "stinking cowls" was a favourite epithet for the monks. begging, cheating, shameless ignorance, drunkenness, and debauchery, are alleged as being their noted characteristics. one of the princes of the empire addresses a prior of a convent largely patronized by aristocratic ladies as "thou, our common brother-in-law!" in some of the convents of friesland, promiscuous intercourse between the sexes was, it is said, quite openly practised, the offspring being reared as monks and nuns. the different orders competed with each other for the fame and wealth to be obtained out of the public credulity. a fraud attempted by the dominicans at bern, in , _with the concurrence of the heads of the order throughout germany_, was one of the main causes of that city adopting the reformation. in addition to the increasing burdens of investitures, annates, and other papal dues, the brunt of which the german people had directly or indirectly to bear, special offence was given at the beginning of the sixteenth century by the excessive exploitation of the practice of indulgences by leo x for the purpose of completing the cathedral of st. peter's at rome. it was this, coming on the top of the exactions already rendered necessary by the increasing luxury and debauchery of the papal court and those of the other ecclesiastical dignitaries, that directly led to the dramatic incidents with which the lutheran reformation opened. the remarkable personality with which the religious side of the reformation is pre-eminently associated was a child of his time, who had passed through a variety of mental struggles, and had already broken through the bonds of the old ecclesiasticism before that turning-point in his career which is usually reckoned the opening of the reformation, to wit--the nailing of the theses on to the door of the schloss-kirche in wittenberg on the st of october, . martin luther, we must always bear in mind, however, was no protestant in the english puritan sense of the word. it was not merely that he retained much of what would be deemed by the old-fashioned english protestant "romish error" in his doctrine, but his practical view of life showed a reaction from the ascetic pretensions which he had seen bred nothing but hypocrisy and the worst forms of sensual excess. it is, indeed, doubtful if the man who sang the praises of "wine, women, and song" would have been deemed a fit representative in parliament or elsewhere by the british nonconformist conscience of our day; or would be acceptable in any capacity to the grocer-deacon of our provincial towns, who, not content with being allowed to sand his sugar and adulterate his tea unrebuked, would socially ostracise every one whose conduct did not square with his conventional shibboleths. martin luther was a child of his time also as a boon companion. the freedom of his living in the years following his rupture with rome was the subject of severe animadversions on the part of the noble, but in this respect narrow-minded, thomas münzer, who, in his open letter addressed to the "soft-living flesh of wittenberg," scathingly denounces what he deems his debauchery. it does not enter into our province here to discuss at length the religious aspects of the reformation; but it is interesting to note in passing the more than modern liberality of luther's views with respect to the marriage question and the celibacy of the clergy, contrasted with the strong mediæval flavour of his belief in witchcraft and sorcery. in his _de captivitate babylonica ecclesiæ_ ( ) he expresses the view that if, for any cause, husband or wife are prevented from having sexual intercourse they are justified, the woman equally with the man, in seeking it elsewhere. he was opposed to divorce, though he did not forbid it, and recommended that a man should rather have a plurality of wives than that he should put away any of them. luther held strenuously the view that marriage was a purely external contract for the purpose of sexual satisfaction, and in no way entered into the spiritual life of the man. on this ground he sees no objection in the so-called mixed marriages, which were, of course, frowned upon by the catholic church. in his sermon on "married life" he says: "know therefore that marriage is an outward thing, like any other worldly business. just as i may eat, drink, sleep, walk, ride, buy, speak, and bargain with a heathen, a jew, a turk, or a heretic, so may i also be and remain married to such an one, and i care not one jot for the fool's laws which forbid it.... a heathen is just as much man or woman, well and shapely made by god, as st. peter, st. paul, or st. lucia." nor did he shrink from applying his views to particular cases, as is instanced by his correspondence with philip von hessen, whose constitution appears to have required more than one wife. he here lays down explicitly the doctrine that polygamy and concubinage are not forbidden to christians, though, in his advice to philip, he adds the _caveat_ that he should keep the matter dark to the end that offence might not be given. "for," says he, "it matters not, provided one's conscience is right, what others say." in one of his sermons on the pentateuch[ ] we find the words: "it is not forbidden that a man have more than one wife. i would not forbid it to-day, albeit i would not advise it.... yet neither would i condemn it." other opinions on the nature of the sexual relation were equally broad; for in one of his writings on monastic celibacy his words plainly indicate his belief that chastity, no more than other fleshly mortifications, was to be considered a divine ordinance for all men or women. in an address to the clergy he says: "a woman not possessed of high and rare grace can no more abstain from a man than from eating, drinking, sleeping, or other natural function. likewise a man cannot abstain from a woman. the reason is that it is as deeply implanted in our nature to breed children as it is to eat and drink."[ ] the worthy janssen observes in a scandalized tone that luther, as regards certain matters relating to married life, "gave expression to principles before unheard of in christian europe";[ ] and the british nonconformist of to-day, if he reads these "immoral" opinions of the hero of the reformation, will be disposed to echo the sentiments of the ultramontane historian. the relation of the reformation to the "new learning" was in germany not unlike that which existed in the other northern countries of europe, and notably in england. whilst the hostility of the latter to the mediæval church was very marked, and it was hence disposed to regard the religious reformation as an ally, this had not proceeded very far before the tendency of the renaissance spirit was to side with catholicism against the new theology and dogma, as merely destructive and hostile to culture. the men of the humanist movement were for the most part free-thinkers, and it was with them that free-thought first appeared in modern europe. they therefore had little sympathy with the narrow bigotry of religious reformers, and preferred to remain in touch with the church, whose then loose and tolerant catholicism gave freer play to intellectual speculations, provided they steered clear of overt theological heterodoxy, than the newer systems, which, taking theology _au grand sérieux_, tended to regard profane art and learning as more or less superfluous, and spent their whole time in theological wrangles. nevertheless, there were not wanting men who, influenced at first by the revival of learning, ended by throwing themselves entirely into the reformation movement, though in these cases they were usually actuated rather by their hatred of the catholic hierarchy than by any positive religious sentiment. of such men ulrich von hutten, the descendant of an ancient and influential knightly family, was a noteworthy example. after having already acquired fame as the author of a series of skits in the new latin and other works of classical scholarship, being also well known as the ardent supporter of reuchlin in his dispute with the church, and as the friend and correspondent of the central humanist figure of the time, erasmus, he watched with absorbing interest the movement which luther had inaugurated. six months after the nailing of the theses at wittenberg, he writes enthusiastically to a friend respecting the growing ferment in ecclesiastical matters, evidently regarding the new movement as a kilkenny-cat fight. "the leaders," he says, "are bold and hot, full of courage and zeal. now they shout and cheer, now they lament and bewail, as loud as they can. they have lately set themselves to write; the printers are getting enough to do. propositions, corollaries, conclusions, and articles are being sold. for this alone i hope they will mutually destroy each other." "a few days ago a monk was telling me what was going on in saxony, to which i replied: 'devour each other in order that ye in turn may be devoured (_sic_).' pray heaven that our enemies may fight each other to the bitter end, and by their obstinacy extinguish each other." thus it will be seen that hutten regarded the reformation in its earlier stages as merely a monkish squabble, and failed to see the tremendous upheaval of all the old landmarks of ecclesiastical domination which was immanent in it. so soon, however, as he perceived its real significance, he threw himself wholly into the movement. it must not be forgotten, moreover, that, although hutten's zeal for humanism made him welcome any attempt to overthrow the power of the clergy and the monks, he had also an eminently political motive for his action in what was, in some respects, the main object of his life, viz. to rescue the "knighthood," or smaller nobility, from having their independence crushed out by the growing powers of the princes of the empire. probably more than one-third of the manors were held by ecclesiastical dignitaries, so that anything which threatened their possessions and privileges seemed to strike a blow at the very foundations of the imperial system. hutten hoped that the new doctrines would set the princes by the ears all round; and that then, by allying themselves with the reforming party, the knighthood might succeed in retaining the privileges which still remained to them, but were rapidly slipping away, and might even regain some of those which had been already lost. it was not till later, however, that hutten saw matters in this light. he was, at the time the above letter was written, in the service of the archbishop albrecht of mainz, the leading favourer of the new learning amongst the prince-prelates, and it was mainly from the humanist standpoint that he regarded the beginnings of the reformation. after leaving the service of the archbishop he struck up a personal friendship with luther, instigated thereto by his political chief, franz von sickingen, the leader of the knighthood, from whom he probably received the first intimation of the importance of the new movement to their common cause. when, in , the young emperor, charles v, was crowned at aachen, luther's party, as well as the knighthood, expected that considerable changes would result in a sense favourable to their position from the presumed pliability of the new head of the empire. his youth, it was supposed, would make him more sympathetic to the newer spirit which was rapidly developing itself; and it is true that about the time of his election charles had shown a transient favour to the "recalcitrant monk." it would appear, however, that this was only for the purpose of frightening the pope into abandoning his declared intention of abolishing the inquisition in spain, then regarded as one of the mainstays of the royal power, and still more to exercise pressure upon him, in order that he should facilitate charles's designs on the milanese territory. once these objects were attained, he was just as ready to oblige the pope by suppressing the new anti-papal movement as he might possibly otherwise have been to have favoured it with a view to humbling the only serious rival to his dominion in the empire. immediately after his coronation he proceeded to cologne, and convoked by imperial edict a reichstag at worms for the following th of january, . the proceedings of this famous reichstag have been unfortunately so identified with the edict against luther that the other important matters which were there discussed have almost fallen into oblivion. at least two other questions were dealt with, however, which are significant of the changes that were then taking place. the first was the rehabilitation and strengthening of the imperial governing council (_reichsregiment_), whose functions under maximilian had been little more than nominal. there was at first a feeling amongst the states in favour of transferring all authority to it, even during the residence of the emperor in the empire; and in the end, while having granted to it complete power during his absence, it practically retained very much of this power when he was present. in constitution it was very similar to the french "parliaments," and, like them, was principally composed of learned jurists, four being elected by the emperor and the remainder by the estates. the character and the great powers of this council, extending even to ecclesiastical matters during the ensuing years, undoubtedly did much to hasten on the substitution of the civil law for the older customary or common law, a matter which we shall consider more in detail later on. the financial condition of the empire was also considered; and it here first became evident that the dislocation of economic conditions, which had begun with the century, would render an enormously increased taxation necessary to maintain the imperial authority, amounting to five times as much as had previously been required. it was only after these secular affairs of the empire had been disposed of that the deliberations of the reichstag on ecclesiastical matters were opened by the indictment of luther in a long speech by aleander, one of the papal nuncios, in introducing the pope's letter. in spite of the efforts of his friends, luther was not permitted to be present at the beginning of the proceedings; but subsequently he was sent for by the emperor, in order that he might state his case. his journey to worms was one long triumph, especially at erfurt, where he was received with enthusiasm by the humanists as the enemy of the papacy. but his presence in the reichstag was unavailing, and the proceedings resulted in his being placed under the ban of the empire. the safe-conduct of the emperor was, however, in his case respected; and in spite of the fears of his friends that a like fate might befall him as had befallen huss after the council of constance, he was allowed to depart unmolested. on his way to wittenberg luther was seized, by arrangement with his supporter, the kurfürst of saxony, and conveyed in safety to the castle of wartburg, in thüringen, a report in the meantime being industriously circulated by certain of his adherents, with a view of arousing popular feeling, that he had been arrested by order of the emperor and was being tortured. in this way he was secured from all danger for the time being, and it was during his subsequent stay that he laid the foundations of the literary language of germany. says a contemporary writer,[ ] an eye-witness of what went on at worms during the sitting of the reichstag: "all is disorder and confusion. seldom a night doth pass but that three or four persons be slain. the emperor hath installed a provost, who hath drowned, hanged, and murdered over a hundred men." he proceeds: "stabbing, whoring, flesh-eating (it was in lent) ... altogether there is an orgie worthy of the venusberg." he further states that many gentlemen and other visitors had drunk themselves to death on the strong rhenish wine. aleander was in danger of being murdered by the lutheran populace, instigated thereto by hutten's inflammatory letters from the neighbouring castle of ebernburg, in which franz von sickingen had given him a refuge. the fiery humanist wrote to aleander himself, saying that he would leave no stone unturned "till thou who earnest hither full of wrath, madness, crime, and treachery shalt be carried hence a lifeless corpse." aleander naturally felt exceedingly uncomfortable, and other supporters of the papal party were not less disturbed at the threats which seemed in a fair way of being carried out. the emperor himself was without adequate means of withstanding a popular revolt should it occur. he had never been so low in cash or in men as at that moment. on the other hand, sickingen, to whom he owed money, and who was the only man who could have saved the situation under the circumstances, had matters come to blows, was almost overtly on the side of the lutherans; while the whole body of the impoverished knighthood were only awaiting a favourable opportunity to overthrow the power of the magnates, secular and ecclesiastic, with sickingen as a leader. such was the state of affairs at the beginning of the year . the ban placed upon luther by the reichstag marks the date of the complete rupture between the reforming party and the old church. henceforward, many humanist and humanistically influenced persons who had supported him withdrew from the movement and swelled the ranks of the conservatives. foremost amongst these were pirckheimer, the wealthy merchant and scholar of nürnberg, and many others, who dreaded lest the attack on ecclesiastical property and authority should, as indeed was the case, issue in a general attack on all property and authority. thomas murner, also, who was the type of the "moderate" of the situation, while professing to disapprove of the abuses of the church, declared that luther's manner of agitation could only lead to the destruction of all order, civil no less than ecclesiastical. the two parties were now clearly defined, and the points at issue were plainly irreconcilable with one another or involved irreconcilable details. the printing-press now for the first time appeared as the vehicle for popular literature; the art of the bard gave place to the art of the typographer, and the art of the preacher saw confronting it a formidable rival in that of the pamphleteer. similarly in the french revolution, modern journalism, till then unimportant and sporadic, received its first great development, and began seriously to displace alike the preacher, the pamphlet, and the broadside. the flood of theological disquisitions, satires, dialogues, sermons, which now poured from every press in germany, overflowed into all classes of society. these writings are so characteristic of the time that it is worth while devoting a few pages to their consideration, the more especially because it will afford us the opportunity for considering other changes in that spirit of the age, partly diseased growths of decaying mediævalism and partly the beginnings of the modern critical spirit, which also find expression in the literature of the reformation period. footnotes: [ ] _sämmtliche werke_, vol. xxxiii. pp. - . [ ] quoted in janssen, _ein zweites wort an meine kritiker_ , p. . [ ] _geschichte des deutschen volkes_, vol. ii. p. . [ ] quoted in janssen, bk. ii. . chapter ii popular literature of the time in accordance with the conventional view the reichstag at worms was a landmark in the history of the reformation. this is, however, only true as regards the political side of the movement. the popular feeling was really quite continuous, at least from to . with the latter year and the collapse of the peasant revolt a change is noticeable. in the reformation, as a great upstirring of the popular mind of central europe, in contradistinction to its character as an academic and purely political movement, reached high-water mark, and may almost be said to have exhausted itself. until the latter year it was purely a revolutionary movement, attracting to itself all the disruptive elements of its time. later, the reactionary possibilities within it declared themselves. the emancipation from the thraldom of the catholic hierarchy and its papal head, it was soon found, meant not emancipation from the arbitrary tyranny of the new political and centralizing authorities then springing up, but, on the contrary, rather their consecration. the ultimate outcome, in fact, of the whole business was, as we shall see later on, the inculcation of the non-resistance theory as regards the civil power, and the clearing of the way for its extremest expression in the doctrine of the divine right of kings, a theory utterly alien to the belief and practice of the mediæval church. the reichstag of worms, by cutting off all possibility of reconciliation, rather gave further edge to the popular revolutionary side of the movement than otherwise. the whole progress of the change in public feeling is plainly traceable in the mass of ephemeral literature that has come down to us from this period, broadsides, pamphlets, satires, folk-songs, and the rest. the anonymous literature to which we more especially refer is distinguished by its coarse brutality and humour, even in the writings of the reformers, which were themselves in no case remarkable for the suavity of their polemic. hutten, in some of his later vernacular poems, approaches the character of the less-cultured broadside literature. to the critical mind it is somewhat amusing to note the enthusiasm with which the modern dissenting and puritan class contemplates the period of which we are writing--an enthusiasm that would probably be effectively damped if the laudators of the reformation knew the real character of the movement and of its principal actors. the first attacks made by the broadside literature were naturally directed against the simony and benefice-grabbing of the clergy, a characteristic of the priestly office that has always powerfully appealed to the popular mind. thus the "courtisan and benefice-eater" attacks the parasite of the roman court, who absorbs ecclesiastical revenues wholesale, putting in perfunctory _locum tenens_ on the cheap, and begins:-- i'm fairly called a simonist and eke a courtisan, and here to every peasant and every common man my knavery will very well appear. i called and cried to all who'd give me ear, to nobleman and knight and all above me: "behold me! and ye'll find i'll truly love ye." in another we read:-- the paternoster teaches well how one for another his prayers should tell, thro' brotherly love and not for gold, and good those same prayers god doth hold. so too saith holy paul right clearly, each shall his brother's load bear dearly. but now, it declares, all that is changed. now we are being taught just the opposite of god's teachings:-- such doctrine hath the priests increased, whom men as masters now must feast, 'fore all the crowd of simonists, whose waxing number no man wists, the towns and thorps seem full of them, and in all lands they're seen with shame. their violence and knavery leave not a church or living free. a prose pamphlet, apparently published about the summer of , shortly after luther's ex-communication, was the so-called "wolf song" (_wolf-gesang_), which paints the enemies of luther as wolves. it begins with a screed on the creation and fall of adam, and a dissertation on the dogma of the redemption; and then proceeds: "as one might say, dear brother, instruct me, for there is now in our times so great commotion in faith come upon us. there is one in saxony who is called luther, of whom many pious and honest folk tell how that he doth write so consolingly the good evangelical (_evangelische_) truth. but again i hear that the pope and the cardinals at rome have put him under the ban as a heretic; and certain of our own preachers, too, scold him from their pulpits as a knave, a misleader, and a heretic. i am utterly confounded, and know not where to turn; albeit my reason and heart do speak to me even as luther writeth. but yet again it bethinks me that when the pope, the cardinal, the bishop, the doctor, the monk, and the priest, for the greater part are against him, and so that all save the common men and a few gentlemen, doctors, councillors, and knights, are his adversaries, what shall i do?" "for answer, dear friend, get thee back and search the scriptures, and thou shalt find that so it hath gone with all the holy prophets even as it now fareth with doctor martin luther, who is in truth a godly christian and manly heart and only true pope and apostle, when he the true office of the apostles publicly fulfilleth.... if the godly man luther were pleasing to the world, that were indeed a true sign that his doctrine were not from god; for the word of god is a fiery sword, a hammer that breaketh in pieces the rocks, and not a fox's tail or a reed that may be bent according to our pleasure." seventeen noxious qualities of the wolf are adduced--his ravenousness, his cunning, his falseness, his cowardice, his thirst for robbery, amongst others. the popes, the cardinals, and the bishops are compared to the wolves in all their attributes: "the greater his pomp and splendour, the more shouldst thou beware of such an one; for he is a wolf that cometh in the shape of a good shepherd's dog. beware! it is against the custom of christ and his apostles." it is again but the song of the wolves when they claim to mix themselves with worldly affairs and maintain the temporal supremacy. the greediness of the wolf is discernible in the means adopted to get money for the building of st. peter's. the interlocutor is warned against giving to mendicant priests and monks. we have given this as a specimen of the almost purely theological pamphlet; although, as will have been evident, even this is directly connected with the material abuses from which the people were suffering. another pamphlet of about the same date deals with usury, the burden of which had been greatly increased by the growth of the new commercial combinations already referred to in the introduction, which combinations dr. eck had been defending at bologna on theological grounds, in order to curry favour with the augsburg merchant-prince, fuggerschwatz.[ ] it is called "concerning dues. hither comes a poor peasant to a rich citizen. a priest comes also thereby, and then a monk. full pleasant to read." a peasant visits a burgher when he is counting money, and asks him where he gets it all from. "my dear peasant," says the townsman, "thou askest me who gave me this money. i will tell thee. there cometh hither a peasant, and beggeth me to lend him ten or twenty gulden. thereupon i ask him an he possesseth not a goodly meadow or corn-field. 'yea! good sir!' saith he, 'i have indeed a good meadow and a good corn-field. the twain are worth a hundred gulden.' then say i to him: 'good, my friend, wilt thou pledge me thy holding? and an thou givest me one gulden of thy money every year i will lend thee twenty gulden now.' then is the peasant right glad, and saith he: 'willingly will i pledge it thee.' 'i will warn thee,' say i, 'that an thou furnishest not the one gulden of money each year, i will take thy holding for my own having.' therewith is the peasant well content, and writeth him down accordingly. i lend him the money; he payeth me one year, or may be twain, the due; thereafter can he no longer furnish it, and thereupon i take the holding, and drive away the peasant therefrom. thus i get the holding and the money. the same things do i with handicraftsmen. hath he a good house? he pledgeth that house until i bring it behind me. therewith gain i much in goods and money, and thus do i pass my days." "i thought," rejoined the peasant, "that 'twere only the jew who did usury, but i hear that ye also ply that trade." the burgher answers that interest is not usury, to which the peasant replies that interest (_gült_) is only a "subtle name." the burgher then quotes scripture, as commanding men to help one another. the peasant readily answers that in doing this they have no right to get advantage from the assistance they proffer. "thou art a good fellow!" says the townsman. "if i take no money for the money that i lend, how shall i then increase my hoard?" the peasant then reproaches him that he sees well that his object in life is to wax fat on the substance of others; "but i tell thee, indeed," he says, "that it is a great and heavy sin." whereupon his opponent waxes wroth, and will have nothing more to do with him, threatening to kick him out in the name of a thousand devils; but the peasant returns to the charge, and expresses his opinion that rich men do not willingly hear the truth. a priest now enters, and to him the townsman explains the dispute. "dear peasant," says the priest, "wherefore camest thou hither, that thou shouldst make of a due[ ] usury? may not a man buy with his money what he will?" but the peasant stands by his previous assertion, demanding how anything can be considered as bought which is only a pledge. "we priests," replies the ecclesiastic, "must perforce lend moneys for dues, since thereby we get our living"; to which, after sundry ejaculations of surprise, the peasant retorts: "who gave to you the power? i well hear ye have another god than we poor people. we have our lord jesus christ, who hath forbidden such money-lending for gain." hence it comes, he goes on, that land is no longer free; to attempt to whitewash usury under the name of due or interest, he says, is just the same as if one were to call a child christened friedrich or hansel, fritz or hans, and then maintain it was no longer the same child. they require no more jews, he says, since the christians have taken their business in hand. the townsman is once more about to turn the peasant out of his house when a monk enters. he then lays the matter before the new-comer, who promises to talk the peasant over with soft words; for, says he, there is nothing accomplished with vainglory. he thereupon takes him aside and explains it to him by the illustration of a merchant whose gain on the wares he sells is not called usury, and argues that therefore other forms of gain in business should not be described by this odious name. but the peasant will have none of this comparison; for the merchant, he says, needs to incur much risk in order to gain and traffic with his wares; while money-lending on security is, on the other hand, without risk or labour, and is a treacherous mode of cheating. finding that they can make nothing of the obstinate countryman, the others leave him; but he, as a parting shot, exclaims: "ah, well-a-day! i would to have talked with thee at first, but it is now ended. farewell, gracious sir, and my other kind sirs. i, poor little peasant, i go my way. farewell, farewell, due remains usury for ever more. yea, yea! due, indeed!" the above specimens of the popular writing of the time must suffice. but for the reader who wishes to further study this literature we give the titles, which sufficiently indicate their contents, of a selection of other similar pamphlets and broadsheets: "a new epistle from the evil clergy sent to their righteous lord, with an answer from their lord. most merry to read" ( ). "a great prize which the prince of hell, hight lucifer, now offereth to the clergy, to the pope, bishops, cardinals, and their like" ( ). "a written call, made by the prince of hell to his dear devoted, of all and every condition in his kingdom" ( ). "dialogue or converse of the apostolicum, angelica, and other spices of the druggist, anent dr. martin luther and his disciples" ( ). "a very pleasant dialogue and remonstrance from the sheriff of gaissdorf and his pupil against the pastor of the same and his assistant" ( ). the popularity of "karsthans," an anonymous tract, amongst the people is illustrated by the publication and wide distribution of a new "karsthans" a few months later, in which it is sought to show that the knighthood should make common cause with the peasants, the _dramatis personæ_ being karsthans and franz von sickingen. referring to the same subject we find a "dialogue which franciscus von sickingen held fore heaven's gate with st. peter and the knights of st. george before he was let in." this was published in , almost immediately after the death of sickingen. "a talk between a nobleman, a monk, and a courtier" ( ). "a talk between a fox and a wolf" ( ). "a pleasant dialogue between dr. martin luther and the cunning messenger from hell" ( ). "a conversation of the pope with his cardinals of how it goeth with him, and how he may destroy the word of god. let every man very well note" ( ). "a christian and merry talk, that it is more pleasing to god and more wholesome for men to come out of the monasteries and to marry, than to tarry therein and to burn; which talk is not with human folly and the false teachings thereof, but is founded alone in the holy, divine, biblical, and evangelical scripture" ( ). "a pleasant dialogue of a peasant with a monk that he should cast his cowl from him. merry and fair to read" ( ). the above is only a selection taken haphazard from the mass of fugitive literature which the early years of the reformation brought forth. in spite of a certain rough but not unattractive directness of diction, a prolonged reading of them is very tedious, as will have been sufficiently seen from the extracts we have given. their humour is of a particularly juvenile and obvious character, and consists almost entirely in the childish device of clothing the personages with ridiculous but non-essential attributes, or in placing them in grotesque but pointless situations. of the more subtle humour, which consists in the discovery of real but hidden incongruities, and the perception of what is innately absurd, there is no trace. the obvious abuses of the time are satirized in this way _ad nauseam_. the rapacity of the clergy in general, the idleness and lasciviousness of the monks, the pomp and luxury of the prince-prelates, the inconsistencies of church traditions and practices with scripture, with which they could now be compared, since it was everywhere circulated in the vulgar tongue, form their never-ending theme. they reveal to the reader a state of things that strikes one none the less in english literature of the period--the intense interest of all classes in theological matters. it shows us how they looked at all things through a theological lens. although we have left this phase of popular thought so recently behind us, we can even now scarcely imagine ourselves back into it. the idea of ordinary men, or of the vast majority, holding their religion as anything else than a very pious opinion absolutely unconnected with their daily life, public or private, has already become almost inconceivable to us. in all the writings of the time, the theological interest is in the forefront. the economic and social groundwork only casually reveals itself. this it is that makes the reading of the sixteenth-century polemics so insufferably jejune and dreary. they bring before us the ghosts of controversies in which most men have ceased to take any part, albeit they have not been dead and forgotten long enough to have acquired a revived antiquarian interest. the great bombshell which luther cast forth on june , , in his address to the german nobility,[ ] indeed, contains strong appeals to the economical and political necessities of germany, and therein we see the veil torn from the half-unconscious motives that lay behind the theological mask; but, as already said, in the popular literature, with a few exceptions, the theological controversy rules undisputed. the noticeable feature of all this irruption of the _cacoethes scribendi_ was the direct appeal to the bible for the settlement not only of strictly theological controversies but of points of social and political ethics also. this practice, which even to the modern protestant seems insipid and played out after three centuries and a half of wear, had at that time the to us inconceivable charm of novelty; and the perusal of the literature and controversies of the time shows that men used it with all the delight of a child with a new toy, and seemed never tired of the game of searching out texts to justify their position. the diffusion of the whole bible in the vernacular, itself a consequence of the rebellion against priestly tradition and the authority of the fathers, intensified the revolt by making the pastime possible to all ranks of society. footnotes: [ ] see appendix c. [ ] we use the word "due" here for the german word _gült_. the corresponding english of the time does not make any distinction between _gült_ or interest, and _wucher_ or usury. [ ] _an der christlichen adel deutscher nation._ chapter iii the folklore of reformation germany now in the hands of all men, the bible was not made the basis of doctrinal opinions alone. it lent its support to many of the popular superstitions of the time, and in addition it served as the starting-point for new superstitions and for new developments of the older ones. the pan-dæmonism of the new testament, with its wonder-workings by devilish agencies, its exorcisms of evil spirits and the like, could not fail to have a deep effect on the popular mind. the authority that the book believed to be divinely inspired necessarily lent to such beliefs gave a vividness to the popular conception of the devil and his angels, which is apparent throughout the whole movement of the reformation, and not least in the utterances of the great luther himself. indeed, with the reformation there comes a complete change over the popular conception of the devil and diabolical influences. it is true that the judicial pursuit of witches and witchcraft, in the earlier middle ages only a sporadic incident, received a great impulse from the bull of pope innocent viii (dec. , ), entitled _summis desideruntes_, to which has been given the title of _malleus maleficorum_, or _the hammer of sorcerers_, directed against the practice of witchcraft; but it was especially amongst the men of the new spirit that the belief in the prevalence of compacts with the devil, and the necessity for suppressing them, took root, and led to the horrible persecutions that distinguished the "reformed" churches on the whole even more than the catholic. luther himself had a vivid belief, tinging all his views and actions, in the ubiquity of the devil and his myrmidons. "the devils," says he, "are near us, and do cunningly contrive every moment without ceasing against our life, our salvation, and our blessedness.... in woods, waters, and wastes, and in damp, marshy places, there are many devils that seek to harm men. in the black and thick clouds, too, there are some that make storms, hail, lightning, and thunder, that poison the air and the pastures. when such things happen, the philosophers and the physicians ascribe them to the stars, and show i know not what causes for such misfortunes and plagues." luther relates numerous instances of personal encounters that he himself had had with the devil. a nobleman invited him, with other learned men from the university of wittenberg, to take part in a hare hunt. a large, fine hare and a fox crossed the path. the nobleman, mounted on a strong, healthy steed, dashed after them, when, suddenly, his horse fell dead beneath him, and the fox and the hare flew up in the air and vanished. "for," says luther, "they were devilish spectres." again, on another occasion, he was at eisleben on the occasion of another hare-hunt, when the nobleman succeeded in killing eight hares, which were, on their return home, duly hung up for the next day's meal. on the following morning, horses' heads were found in their place. "in mines," says luther, "the devil oftentimes deceives men with a false appearance of gold." all disease and all misfortune were the direct work of the devil; god, who was all good, could not produce either. luther gives a long history of how he was called to a parish priest, who complained of the devil's having created a disturbance in his house by throwing the pots and pans about, and so forth, and of how he advised the priest to exorcise the fiend by invoking his own authority as a pastor of the church. at the wartburg, luther complained of having been very much troubled by the satanic arts. when he was at work upon his translation of the bible, or upon his sermons, or engaged in his devotions, the devil was always making disturbances on the stairs or in the room. one day, after a hard spell of study, he lay down to sleep in his bed, when the devil began pelting him with hazel-nuts, a sack of which had been brought to him a few hours before by an attendant. he invoked, however, the name of christ, and lay down again in bed. there were other more curious and more doubtful recipes for driving away satan and his emissaries. luther is never tired of urging that contemptuous treatment and rude chaff are among the most efficacious methods. there was, he relates, a poor soothsayer, to whom the devil came in visible form, and offered great wealth provided that he would deny christ and never more do penance. the devil provided him with a crystal, by which he could foretell events, and thus become rich. this he did; but nemesis awaited him, for the devil deceived him one day, and caused him to denounce certain innocent persons as thieves. in consequence, he was thrown into prison, where he revealed the compact that he had made, and called for a confessor. the two chief forms in which the devil appeared were, according to luther, those of a snake and a sheep. he further goes into the question of the population of devils in different countries. on the top of the pilatus at luzern, he says, is a black pond, which is one of the devil's favourite abodes. in luther's own country there is also a high mountain, the poltersberg, with a similar pond. when a stone is thrown into this pond, a great tempest arises, which often devastates the whole neighbourhood. he also alleges prussia to be full of evil spirits (!!). devilish changelings, luther said, were often placed by satan in the cradles of human children. "some maids he often plunges into the water, and keeps them with him until they have borne a child." these children are placed in the beds of mortals, and the true children are taken out and hurried away. "but," he adds, "such changelings are said not to live more than to the eighteenth or nineteenth year." as a practical application of this, it may be mentioned that luther advised the drowning of a certain child of twelve years old, on the ground of its being a devil's changeling. somnambulism is, with luther, the result of diabolical agency. "formerly," says he, "the papists, being superstitious people, alleged that persons thus afflicted had not been properly baptized, or had been baptized by a drunken priest." the irony of the reference to superstition, considering the "great reformer's" own position, will not be lost upon the reader. thus, not only is the devil the cause of pestilence, but he is also the immediate agent of nightmare and of nightsweats. at mölburg in thüringen, near erfurt, a piper, who was accustomed to pipe at weddings, complained to his priest that the devil had threatened to carry him away and destroy him, on the ground of a practical joke played upon some companions, to wit, for having mixed horse-dung with their wine at a drinking bout. the priest consoled him with many passages of scripture anent the devil and his ways, with the result that the piper expressed himself satisfied as regarded the welfare of his soul, but apprehensive as regarded that of his body, which was, he asserted, hopelessly the prey of the devil. in consequence of this, he insisted on partaking of the sacrament. the devil had indicated to him when he was going to be fetched, and watchers were accordingly placed in his room, who sat in their armour and with their weapons, and read the bible to him. finally, one saturday at midnight, a violent storm arose, that blew out the lights in the room, and hurled the luckless victim out of a narrow window into the street. the sound of fighting and of armed men was heard, but the piper had disappeared. the next morning he was found in a neighbouring ditch, with his arms stretched out in the form of a cross, dead and coal-black. luther vouches for the truth of this story, which he alleges to have been told him by a parish priest of gotha, who had himself heard it from the parish priest of mölburg, where the event was said to have taken place. amongst the numerous anecdotes of a supernatural character told by "dr. martin" is one of a "poltergeist," or "robin goodfellow," who was exorcised by two monks from the guest-chamber of an inn, and who offered his services to them in the monastery. they gave him a corner in the kitchen. the serving-boy used to torment him by throwing dirty water over him. after unavailing protests, the spirit hung the boy up to a beam, but let him down again before serious harm resulted. luther states that this "brownie" was well known by sight in the neighbouring town (the name of which he does not give). but by far the larger number of his stories, which, be it observed, are warranted as ordinary occurrences, as to the possibility of which there was no question, are coloured by that more sinister side of supernaturalism so much emphasised by the new theology. the mediæval devil was, for the most part, himself little more than a prankish rübezahl, or robin goodfellow; the new satan of the reformers was, in very deed, an arch-fiend, the enemy of the human race, with whom no truce or parley might be held. the old folklore belief in _incubi_ and _succubi_ as the parents of changelings is brought into connection with the theory of direct diabolic begettal. thus luther relates how friedrich, the elector of saxony, told him of a noble family that had sprung from a _succubus_: "just," says he, "as the melusina at luxembourg was also such a _succubus_, or devil." in the case referred to, the _succubus_ assumed the shape of the man's dead wife, and lived with him and bore him children, until, one day, he swore at her, when she vanished, leaving only her clothes behind. after giving it as his opinion that all such beings and their offspring are wiles of the devil, he proceeds: "it is truly a grievous thing that the devil can so plague men that he begetteth children in their likeness. it is even so with the nixies in the water, that lure a man therein, in the shape of wife or maid, with whom he doth dally and begetteth offspring of them." the change whereby the beings of the old naïve folklore are transformed into the devil or his agents is significant of that darker side of the new theology, which was destined to issue in those horrors of the witchcraft-mania that reached their height at the beginning of the following century. one more story of a "changeling" before we leave the subject. luther gives us the following as having come to his knowledge near halberstadt, in saxony. a peasant had a baby, who sucked out its mother and five nurses, besides eating a great deal. concluding that it was a changeling, the peasant sought the advice of his neighbours, who suggested that he should take it on a pilgrimage to a neighbouring shrine of the mother of god. while he was crossing a brook on the way an impish voice from under the water called out to the infant, whom he was carrying in a basket. the brat answered from within the basket, "ho, ho!" and the peasant was unspeakably shocked. when the voice from the water proceeded to ask the child what it was after, and received the answer from the hitherto inarticulate babe that it was going to be laid on the shrine of the mother of god, to the end that it might prosper, the peasant could stand it no longer, and flung basket and baby into the brook. the changeling and the little devil played for a few moments with each other, rolling over and over, and crying, "ho, ho, ho!" and then they disappeared together. luther says that these devilish brats may be generally known by their eating and drinking too much, and especially by their exhausting their mother's milk, but they may not develop any certain signs of their true parentage until eighteen or nineteen years old. the princess of anhalt had a child which luther imagined to be a changeling, and he therefore advised its being drowned, alleging that such creatures were only lumps of flesh animated by the devil or his angels. some one spoke of a monster which infested the netherlands, and which went about smelling at people like a dog, and whoever it smelt died. but those that were smelt did not see it, albeit the bystanders did. the people had recourse to vigils and masses. luther improved the occasion to protest against the "superstition" of masses for the dead, and to insist upon his favourite dogma of faith as the true defence against assaults of the devil. among the numerous stories of satanic compacts, we are told of a monk who ate up a load of hay, of a debtor who bit off the leg of his hebrew creditor and ran off to avoid payment, and of a woman who bewitched her husband so that he vomited lizards. luther observes, with especial reference to this last case, that lawyers and judges were far too pedantic with their witnesses and with their evidence; that the devil hardens his clients against torture, and that the refusal to confess under torture ought to be of itself sufficient proof of dealings with the prince of darkness. "towards such," says he, "we would show no mercy; i would burn them myself." black magic or witchcraft he proceeds to characterize as the greatest sin a human being can be guilty of, as, in fact, high treason against god himself--_crimen læsæ majestatis divinæ_. the conversation closes with a story of how maximilian's father, the emperor friedrich, who seems to have obtained a reputation for magic arts, invited a well-known magician to a banquet, and on his arrival fixed claws on his hands and hoofs on his feet by his cunning. his guest, being ashamed, tried to hide the claws under the table as long as he could, but finally he had to show them, to his great discomfiture. but he determined to have his revenge, and asked his host whether he would permit him to give proofs of his own skill. the emperor assenting, there at once arose a great noise outside the window. friedrich sprang up from the table, and leaned out of the casement to see what was the matter. immediately an enormous pair of stag's horns appeared on his head, so that he could not draw it back. finding the state of the case, the emperor exclaimed: "rid me of them again! thou hast won!" luther's comment on this was that he was always glad to see one devil getting the better of another, as it showed that some were stronger than others. all this belongs, roughly speaking, to the side of the matter which regards popular theology; but there is another side which is connected more especially with the new learning. this other school, which sought to bring the somewhat elastic elements of the magical theory of the universe into the semblance of a systematic whole, is associated with such names as those of paracelsus, cornelius agrippa, and the abbot von trittenheim. the fame of the first-named was so great throughout germany that when he visited any town the occasion was looked upon as an event of exceeding importance.[ ] paracelsus fully shared in the beliefs of his age, in spite of his brilliant insights on certain occasions. what his science was like may be imagined when we learn that he seriously speaks of animals who conceive through the mouth of basilisks whose glance is deadly, of petrified storks changed into snakes, of the stillborn young of the lion which are afterwards brought to life by the roar of their sire, of frogs falling in a shower of rain, of ducks transformed into frogs, and of men born from beasts; the menstruation of women he regarded as a venom whence proceeded flies, spiders, earwigs, and all sorts of loathsome vermin; night was caused, not by the absence of the sun, but by the presence of the stars, which were the positive cause of the darkness. he relates having seen a magnet capable of attracting the eyeball from its socket as far as the tip of the nose; he knows of salves to close the mouth so effectually that it has to be broken open again by mechanical means, and he writes learnedly on the infallible signs of witchcraft. by mixing horse-dung with human semen he believed he was able to produce a medium from which, by chemical treatment in a retort, a diminutive human being, or _homunculus_, as he called it, could be produced. the spirits of the elements, the sylphs of the air, the gnomes of the earth, the salamanders of the fire, and the undines of the water, were to him real and undoubted existences in nature. strange as all these beliefs seem to us now, they were a very real factor in the intellectual conceptions of the renaissance period, no less than of the middle ages, and amidst them there is to be found at times a foreshadowing of more modern knowledge. many other persons were also more or less associated with the magical school, amongst them franz von sickingen. reuchlin himself, by his hebrew studies, and especially by his introduction of the kabbala to gentile readers, also contributed a not unimportant influence in determining the course of the movement. the line between the so-called black magic, or operations conducted through the direct agency of evil spirits, and white magic, which sought to subject nature to the human will by the discovery of her mystical and secret laws, or the character of the quasi-personified intelligent principles under whose form nature presented herself to their minds, had never throughout the middle ages been very clearly defined. the one always had a tendency to shade off into the other, so that even roger bacon's practices were, although not condemned, at least looked upon somewhat doubtfully by the church. at the time of which we treat, however, the interest in such matters had become universal amongst all intelligent persons. the scientific imagination at the close of the middle ages and during the renaissance period was mainly occupied with three questions: the discovery of the means of transmuting the baser metals into gold, or otherwise of producing that object of universal desire; to discover the elixir vitæ, by which was generally understood the invention of a drug which would have the effect of curing all diseases, restoring man to perennial youth, and, in short, prolonging human life indefinitely; and, finally, the search for the philosopher's stone, the happy possessor of which would not only be able to achieve the first two, but also, since it was supposed to contain the quintessence of all the metals, and therefore of all the planetary influences to which the metals corresponded, would have at his command all the forces which mould the destinies of men. in especial connection with the latter object of research may be noted the universal interest in astrology, whose practitioners were to be found at every court, from that of the emperor himself to that of the most insignificant prince or princelet, and whose advice was sought and carefully heeded on all important occasions. alchemy and astrology were thus the recognized physical sciences of the age, under the auspices of which a copernicus and a tycho brahe were born and educated. footnotes: [ ] cf. sebastian franck, _chronica_, for an account of a visit of paracelsus to nürnberg. chapter iv the sixteenth-century german town from what has been said the reader may form for himself an idea of the intellectual and social life of the german town of the period. the wealthy patrician class, whose mainstay politically was the _rath_, gave the social tone to the whole. in spite of the sharp and sometimes brutal fashion in which class distinctions asserted themselves then, as throughout the middle ages, there was none of that aloofness between class and class which characterizes the bourgeois society of the present day. each town, were it great or small, was a little world in itself, so that every citizen knew every other citizen more or less. the schools attached to its ecclesiastical institutions were practically free of access to all the children whose parents could find the means to maintain them during their studies; and consequently the intellectual differences between the different classes were by no means necessarily proportionate to the difference in social position. so far as culture and material prosperity were concerned, the towns of bavaria and franconia, munich, augsburg, regensburg, and perhaps, above all, nürnberg, represented the high-water mark of mediæval civilization as regards town life. on entering the burg, should it have happened to be in time of peace and in daylight, the stranger would clear the drawbridge and the portcullis without much challenge; passing along streets lined with the houses and shops of the burghers, in whose open frontages the master and his apprentices and _gesellen_ plied their trades, discussing eagerly over their work the politics of the town, and at this period probably the theological questions which were uppermost in men's minds, our visitor would make his way to some hostelry, in whose courtyard he would dismount from his horse, and, entering the common room, or _stube_, with its rough but artistic furniture of carved oak, partake of his flagon of wine or beer, according to the district in which he was travelling, whilst the host cracked a rough and possibly coarse jest with the other guests, or narrated to them the latest gossip of the city. the stranger would probably find himself before long the object of interrogatories respecting his native place and the object of his journey (although his dress would doubtless have given general evidence of this), whether he were a merchant or a travelling scholar or a practiser of medicine; for into one of those categories it might be presumed the humble but not servile traveller would fall. were he on a diplomatic mission from some potentate he would be travelling at the least as a knight or a noble, with spurs and armour, and, moreover, would be little likely to lodge in a public house of entertainment. in the _stube_ he would probably see, drinking heavily, representatives of the ubiquitous _landsknechte_, the mercenary troops enrolled for imperial purposes by the emperor maximilian towards the end of the previous century, who in the intervals of war were disbanded and wandered about spending their pay, and thus constituted an excessively disintegrative element in the life of the time. a contemporary writer[ ] describes them as the curse of germany, and stigmatizes them as "unchristian, god-forsaken folk, whose hand is ever ready in striking, stabbing, robbing, burning, slaying, gaming, who delight in wine-bibbing, whoring, blaspheming, and in the making of widows and orphans." presently, perhaps, a noise without indicates the arrival of a new guest. all hurry forth into the courtyard, and their curiosity is more keenly whetted when they perceive by the yellow knitted scarf round the neck of the new-comer that he is an _itinerans scholasticus_, or travelling scholar, who brings with him not only the possibility of news from the outer world, so important in an age when journals were non-existent and communications irregular and deficient, but also a chance of beholding wonder-workings, as well as of being cured of the ailments which local skill had treated in vain. already surrounded by a crowd of admirers waiting for the words of wisdom to fall from his lips, he would start on that exordium which bore no little resemblance to the patter of the modern quack, albeit interlarded with many a latin quotation and great display of mediæval learning. "good people and worthy citizens of this town," he might say, "behold in me the great master ... prince of necromancers, astrologer, second mage, chiromancer, agromancer, pyromancer, hydromancer. my learning is so profound that were all the works of plato and aristotle lost to the world i could from memory restore them with more elegance than before. the miracles of christ were not so great as those which i can perform wherever and as often as i will. of all alchemists i am the first, and my powers are such that i can obtain all things that man desires. my shoe-buckles contain more learning than the heads of galen and avicenna, and my beard has more experience than all your high schools. i am monarch of all learning. i can heal you of all diseases. by my secret arts i can procure you wealth. i am the philosopher of philosophers. i can provide you with spells to bind the most potent of the devils in hell. i can cast your nativities and foretell all that shall befall you, since i have that which can unlock the secrets of all things that have been, that are, and that are to come."[ ] bringing forth strange-looking phials, covered with cabalistic signs, a crystal globe and an astro-labe, followed by an imposing scroll of parchment inscribed with mysterious hebraic-looking characters, the travelling student would probably drive a roaring trade amongst the assembled townsmen in love-philtres, cures for the ague and the plague, and amulets against them, horoscopes, predictions of fate, and the rest of his stock-in-trade. as evening approaches, our traveller strolls forth into the streets and narrow lanes of the town, lined with overhanging gables that almost meet overhead and shut out the light of the afternoon sun, so that twilight seems already to have fallen. observing that the burghers, with their wives and children, the work of the day being done, are all wending toward the western gate, he goes along with the stream till, passing underneath the heavy portcullis and through the outer rampart, he finds himself in the plain outside, across which a rugged bridle-path leads to a large quadrangular meadow, rough and more or less worn, where a considerable crowd has already assembled. this is the _allerwiese_, or public pleasure-ground of the town. here there are not only high festivities on sundays and holidays, but every fine evening in summer numbers of citizens gather together to watch the apprentices exercising their strength in athletic feats, and competing with one another in various sports, such as running, wrestling, spear-throwing, sword-play, and the like, wherein the inferior rank sought to imitate and even emulate the knighthood, whilst the daughters of the city watched their progress with keen interest and applauding laughter. as the shadows deepen and darkness falls upon the plain, our visitor joins the groups which are now fast leaving the meadow, and re-passes the great embrasure just as the rushlights begin to twinkle in the windows and a swinging oil-lamp to cast a dim light here and there in the streets. but as his company passes out of a narrow lane debouching on to the chief market-place, their progress is stopped by the sudden rush of a mingled crowd of unruly apprentices and journeymen returning from their sports, with hot heads well beliquored. then from another side-street there is a sudden flare of torches, borne aloft by guildsmen come out to quell the tumult and to send off the apprentices to their dwellings, whilst the watch also bears down and carries off some of the more turbulent of the journeymen to pass the night in one of the towers which guard the city wall. at last, however, the visitor reaches his inn by the aid of a friendly guildsman and his torch; and retiring to his chamber, with its straw-covered floor, rough oaken bedstead, hard mattress, and coverings not much better than horse-cloths, he falls asleep as the bell of the minster tolls out ten o'clock over the now dark and silent city. such approximately would have been the view of a german city in the sixteenth century as presented to a traveller in a time of peace. more stirring times, however, were as frequent--times when the tocsin rang out from the steeple all night long, calling the citizens to arms. by such scenes, needless to say, the year of the peasants' war was more than usually characterized. in the days when every man carried arms and knew how to use them, when the fighting instinct was imbibed with the mother's milk, when every week saw some street brawl, often attended by loss of life, and that by no means always among the most worthless and dissolute of the inhabitants, every dissatisfaction immediately turned itself into an armed revolt, whether it were of the apprentices or the journeymen against the guild-masters, the body of the townsmen against the patriciate, the town itself against its feudal superior, where it had one, or of the knighthood against the princes. the extremity to which disputes can at present be carried without resulting in a breach of the peace, as evinced in modern political and trade conflicts, exacerbated though some of them are, was a thing unknown in the middle ages, and indeed to any considerable extent until comparatively recent times. the sacred right of insurrection was then a recognized fact of life, and but very little straining of a dispute led to a resort to arms. in the subsequent chapters we have to deal with the more important of those outbursts to which the ferment due to the dissolution of the mediæval system of things, then beginning throughout central europe, gave rise, of which the religious side is represented by what is known as the reformation. footnotes: [ ] sebastian franck, _chronica_, ccxvii. [ ] cf. trittheim's letter to wirdung of hasfurt regarding faust. _j. tritthemii epistolarum familiarum_, , bk. ii. ep. ; also the works of paracelsus. chapter v country and town at the end of the middle ages for the complete understanding of the events which follow it must be borne in mind that the early sixteenth century represents the end of a distinct historical period; and, as we have pointed out in the introduction, the expiring effort, half-conscious and half-unconscious, of the people to revert to the conditions of an earlier age. nor can the significance be properly gauged unless a clear conception is obtained of the differences between country and town life at the beginning of the sixteenth century. from the earliest periods of the middle ages of which we have any historical record, the _markgenossenschaft_, or primitive village community of the germanic race, was overlaid by a territorial domination, imposed upon it either directly by conquest or voluntarily accepted for the sake of the protection indispensable in that rude period. the conflict of these two elements, the mark organization and the territorial lordship, constitutes the marrow of the social history of the middle ages. in the earliest times the pressure of the overlord, whoever he might be, seems to have been comparatively slight, but its inevitable tendency was for the territorial power to extend itself at the expense of the rural community. it was thus that in the tenth and eleventh centuries the feudal oppression had become thoroughly settled, and had reached its greatest intensity all over europe. it continued thus with little intermission until the thirteenth century, when from various causes, economic and otherwise, matters began to improve in the interests of the common man, till in the fifteenth century the condition of the peasant was better than it has ever been, either before or since within historical times, in northern and western europe. but with all this, the oppressive power of the lord of the soil was by no means dead. it was merely dormant, and was destined to spring into renewed activity the moment the lord's necessities supplied a sufficient incentive. from this time forward the element of territorial power, supported in its claims by the roman law, with its basis of private property, continued to eat into it until it had finally devoured the old rights and possessions of the village community. the executive power always tended to be transferred from its legitimate holder, the village in its corporate capacity, to the lord; and this was alone sufficient to place the villager at his mercy. at the time of the reformation, owing to the new conditions which had arisen and had brought about in a few decades the hitherto unparalleled rise in prices, combined with the unprecedented ostentation and extravagance more than once referred to in these pages, the lord was supplied with the requisite incentive to the exercise of the power which his feudal system gave him. consequently, the position of the peasant rapidly changed for the worse; and although at the outbreak of the movement not absolutely _in extremis_, according to our notions, yet it was so bad comparatively to his previous condition and that less than half a century before, and tended as evidently to become more intolerable, that discontent became everywhere rife, and only awaited the torch of the new doctrines to set it ablaze. the whole course of the movement shows a peasantry, not downtrodden and starved but proud and robust, driven to take up arms not so much by misery and despair as by the deliberate will to maintain the advantages which were rapidly slipping away from them. serfdom was not by any means universal. many free peasant villages were to be found scattered amongst the manors of the territorial lords, though it was but too evidently the settled policy of the latter at this time to sweep everything into their net, and to compel such peasant communes to accept a feudal overlordship. nor were they at all scrupulous in the means adopted for attaining their ends. the ecclesiastical foundations, as before said, were especially expert in forging documents for the purpose of proving that these free villages were lapsed feudatories of their own. old rights of pasture were being curtailed, and others, notably those of hunting and fishing, had in most manors been completely filched away. it is noticeable, however, that although the immediate causes of the peasant rising were the new burdens which had been laid upon the common people during the last few years, once the spirit of discontent was aroused it extended also in many cases to the traditional feudal dues to which, until then, the peasant had submitted with little murmuring, and an attempt was made by the country-side to reconquer the ancient complete freedom of which a dim remembrance had been handed down to them. the condition of the peasant up to the beginning of the sixteenth century--that is to say, up to the time when it began to so rapidly change for the worse--may be gathered from what we are told by contemporary writers, such as wimpfeling, sebastian brandt, wittenweiler, the satires in the _nürnberger fastnachtspielen_, and numberless other sources, as also from the sumptuary laws of the end of the fifteenth century. all these indicate an ease and profuseness of living which little accord with our notions of the word "peasant". wimpfeling writes: "the peasants in our district and in many parts of germany have become, through their riches, stiff-necked and ease-loving. i know peasants who at the weddings of their sons or daughters, or the baptism of their children, make so much display that a house and field might be bought therewith, and a small vineyard to boot. through their riches, they are oftentimes spendthrift in food and in vestments, and they drink wines of price." a chronicler relates of the austrian peasants, under the date of , that "they wore better garments and drank better wine than their lords"; and a sumptuary law passed at the reichstag held at lindau, in , provides that the common peasant man and the labourer in the towns or in the field "shall neither make nor wear cloth that costs more than half a gulden the ell, neither shall they wear gold, pearls, velvet, silk, nor embroidered clothes, nor shall they permit their wives or their children to wear such." respecting the food of the peasant, it is stated that he ate his full in flesh of every kind, in fish, in bread, in fruit, drinking wine often to excess. the swabian, heinrich müller, writes in the year , nearly two generations after the change had begun to take place: "in the memory of my father, who was a peasant man, the peasant did eat much better than now. meat and food in plenty was there every day, and at fairs and other junketings the tables did wellnigh break with what they bore. then drank they wine as it were water, then did a man fill his belly and carry away withal as much as he could; then was wealth and plenty. otherwise is it now. a costly and a bad time hath arisen since many a year, and the food and drink of the best peasant is much worse than of yore that of the day labourer and the serving man." we may well imagine the vivid recollections which a peasant in the year had of the golden days of a few years before. the day labourers and serving men were equally tantalized by the remembrance of high wages and cheap living at the beginning of the century. a day labourer could then earn, with his keep, nine, and without keep, sixteen groschen[ ] a week. what this would buy may be judged from the following prices current in saxony during the second half of the fifteenth century. a pair of good working-shoes cost three groschen; a whole sheep, four groschen; a good fat hen, half a groschen; twenty-five cod-fish, four groschen; a wagon-load of firewood, together with carriage, five groschen; an ell of the best homespun cloth, five groschen; a scheffel (about a bushel) of rye, six or seven groschen. the duke of saxony wore grey hats which cost him four groschen. in northern rhineland about the same time a day labourer could, in addition to his keep, earn in a week a quarter of rye, ten pounds of pork, six large cans of milk, and two bundles of firewood, and in the course of five weeks be able to buy six ells of linen, a pair of shoes, and a bag for his tools. in augsburg the daily wages of an ordinary labourer represented the value of six pounds of the best meat, or one pound of meat, seven eggs, a peck of peas, about a quart of wine, in addition to such bread as he required, with enough over for lodging, clothing, and minor expenses. in bavaria he could earn daily eighteen pfennige, or one and a half groschen, whilst a pound of sausage cost one pfennig, and a pound of the best beef two pfennige, and similarly throughout the whole of the states of central europe. a document of the year , from ehrbach in the swabian odenwald, describes for us the treatment of servants by their masters. "all journeymen," it declares, "that are hired, and likewise bondsmen (serfs), also the serving men and maids, shall each day be given twice meat and what thereto longith, with half a small measure of wine, save on fast days, when they shall have fish or other food that nourisheth. whoso in the week hath toiled shall also on sundays and feast days make merry after mass and preaching. they shall have bread and meat enough, and half a great measure of wine. on feast days also roasted meat enough. moreover, they shall be given, to take home with them, a great loaf of bread and so much of flesh as two at one meal may eat." again, in a bill of fare of the household of count joachim von oettingen in bavaria, the journeymen and villeins are accorded in the morning, soup and vegetables; at midday, soup and meat, with vegetables, and a bowl of broth or a plate of salted or pickled meat; at night, soup and meat, carrots, and preserved meat. even the women who brought fowls or eggs from the neighbouring villages to the castle were given for their trouble--if from the immediate vicinity, a plate of soup with two pieces of bread; if from a greater distance, a complete meal and a cruse of wine. in saxony, similarly, the agricultural journeymen received two meals a day, of four courses each, besides frequently cheese and bread at other times should they require it. not to have eaten meat for a week was the sign of the direst famine in any district. warnings are not wanting against the evils accruing to the common man from his excessive indulgence in eating and drinking. such was the condition of the proletariat in its first inception, that is, when the mediæval system of villeinage had begun to loosen and to allow a proportion of free labourers to insinuate themselves into its working. how grievous, then, were the complaints when, while wages had risen either not at all or at most from half a groschen to a groschen, the price of rye rose from six or seven groschen a bushel to about five-and-twenty groschen, that of a sheep from four to eighteen groschen, and all other articles of necessary consumption in a like proportion![ ] in the middle ages, necessaries and such ordinary comforts as were to be had at all were dirt cheap; while non-necessaries and luxuries, that is, such articles as had to be imported from afar, were for the most part at prohibitive prices. with the opening up of the world-market during the first half of the sixteenth century, this state of things rapidly changed. most luxuries in a short time fell heavily in price, while necessaries rose in a still greater proportion. this latter change in the economic conditions of the world exercised its most powerful effect, however, on the character of the mediæval town, which had remained substantially unchanged since the first great expansion at the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth centuries. with the extension of commerce and the opening up of communications, there began that evolution of the town whose ultimate outcome was to entirely change the central idea on which the urban organization was based. the first requisite for a town, according to modern notions, is facility of communication with the rest of the world by means of railways, telegraphs, postal system, and the like. so far has this gone now that in a new country, for instance, america, the railway, telegraph lines, etc., are made first, and the towns are then strung upon them, like beads upon a cord. in the mediæval town, on the contrary, communication was quite a secondary matter, and more of a luxury than a necessity. each town was really a self-sufficing entity, both materially and intellectually. the modern idea of a town is that of a mere local aggregate of individuals, each pursuing a trade or calling with a view to the world-market at large. their own locality or town is no more to them economically than any other part of the world-market, and very little more in any other respect. the mediæval idea of a town, on the contrary, was that of an organization of groups into one organic whole. just as the village community was a somewhat extended family organization, so was, _mutatis mutandis_, the larger unit, the township or city. each member of the town organization owed allegiance and distinct duties primarily to his guild, or immediate social group, and through this to the larger social group which constituted the civic society. consequently, every townsman felt a kind of _esprit de corps_ with his fellow-citizens, akin to that, say, which is alleged of the soldiers of the old french "foreign legion" who, being brothers-in-arms, were brothers also in all other relations. but if every citizen owed duty and allegiance to the town in its corporate capacity, the town no less owed protection and assistance, in every department of life, to its individual members. as in ancient rome in its earlier history, and as in all other early urban communities, agriculture necessarily played a considerable part in the life of most mediæval towns. like the villages, they possessed each its own mark, with its common fields, pastures, and woods. these were demarcated by various landmarks, crosses, holy images, etc.; and "the bounds" were beaten every year. the wealthier citizens usually possessed gardens and orchards within the town walls, while each inhabitant had his share in the communal holding without. the use of this latter was regulated by the rath or council. in fact, the town life of the middle ages was not by any means so sharply differentiated from rural life as is implied in our modern idea of a town. even in the larger commercial towns, such as frankfurt, nürnberg, or augsburg, it was common to keep cows, pigs, and sheep, and, as a matter of course, fowls and geese, in large numbers within the precincts of the town itself. in frankfurt in the pigsties in the town had become such a nuisance that the rath had to forbid them _in the front_ of the houses by a formal decree. in ulm there was a regulation of the bakers' guild to the effect that no single member should keep more than twenty-four pigs, and that cows should be confined to their stalls at night. in nürnberg in again, the rath had to interfere with the intolerable nuisance of pigs and other farm-yard stock running about loose in the streets. even in a town like münchen we are informed that agriculture formed one of the staple occupations of the inhabitants, while in almost every city the gardeners' or the wine-growers' guild appears as one of the largest and most influential. it is evident that such conditions of life would be impossible with town-populations even approaching only distantly those of to-day; and, in fact, when we come to inquire into the size and populousness of mediæval german cities, as into those of the classical world of antiquity, we are at first sight staggered by the smallness of their proportions. the largest and most populous free imperial cities in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, nürnberg and strassburg, numbered little more than , resident inhabitants within the walls, a population rather less than that of (say) many an english country town at the present time. such an important place as frankfurt-am-main is stated at the middle of the fifteenth century to have had less than , inhabitants. at the end of the fifteenth century dresden could only boast of about , . rothenburg on the tauber is to-day a dead city to all intents and purposes, affording us a magnificent example of what a mediæval town was like, as the bulk of its architecture, including the circuit of its walls, which remain intact, dates approximately from the sixteenth century. at present a single line of railway branching off from the main line with about two trains a day is amply sufficient to convey the few antiquaries and artists who are now its sole visitors, and who have to content themselves with country-inn accommodation. yet this old free city has actually a larger population at the present day than it had at the time of which we are writing, when it was at the height of its prosperity as an important centre of activity. the figures of its population are now between , and , . at the beginning of the sixteenth century they were between , and , . a work written and circulated in manuscript during the first decade of the sixteenth century, "a christian exhortation" (_ein christliche mahnung_), after referring to the frightful pestilences recently raging as a punishment from god, observes, in the spirit of true malthusianism, and as a justification of the ways of providence, that "an there were not so many that died there were too much folk in the land, and it were not good that such should be lest there were not food enough for all." great population as constituting importance in a city is comparatively a modern notion. in other ages towns became famous on account of their superior civic organization, their more advantageous situation, or the greater activity, intellectual, political, or commercial, of their citizens. what this civic organization of mediæval towns was, demands a few words of explanation, since the conflict between the two main elements in their composition plays an important part in the events which follow. something has already been said on this head in the introduction. we have there pointed out that the rath or town council, that is, the supreme governing body of the municipality, was in all cases mainly, and often entirely, composed of the heads of the town aristocracy, the patrician class or "honorability" (_ehrbarkeit_), as they were termed, who on the ground of their antiquity and wealth laid claim to every post of power and privilege. on the other hand were the body of the citizens enrolled in the various guilds, seeking, as their position and wealth improved, to wrest the control of the town's resources from the patricians. it must be remembered that the towns stood in the position of feudal over-lords to the peasants who held land on the city territory, which often extended for many square miles outside the walls. a small town like rothenburg, for instance, which we have described above, had on its lands as many as , peasants. the feudal dues and contributions of these tenants constituted the staple revenue of the town, and the management of them was one of the chief bones of contention. nowhere was the guild system brought to a greater perfection than in the free imperial towns of germany. indeed, it was carried further in them, in one respect, than in any other part of europe, for the guilds of journeymen (_cesellenverbände_), which in other places never attained any strength or importance, were in germany developed to the fullest extent, and of course supported the craft-guilds in their conflict with the patriciate. although there were naturally numerous frictions between the two classes of guilds respecting wages, working days, hours, and the like, it must not be supposed that there was that irreconcilable hostility between them which would exist at the present time between a trade-union and a syndicate of employers. each recognized the right to existence of the other. in one case, that of the strike of bakers towards the close of the fifteenth century, at colmar in elsass, the craft-guilds supported the journeymen in their protest against a certain action of the patrician rath, which they considered to be a derogation from their dignity. like the masters, the journeymen had their own guild-house, and their own solemn functions and social gatherings. there were, indeed, two kinds of journeymen-guilds: one whose chief purpose was a religious one, and the other concerning itself in the first instance with the secular concerns of the body. however, both classes of journeymen-guilds worked into one another's hand. on coming into a strange town a travelling member of such a guild was certain of a friendly reception, of maintenance until he procured work, and of assistance in finding it as soon as possible. interesting details concerning the wages paid to journeymen and their contributions to the guilds are to be found in the original documents relating exclusively to the journeymen-guilds, collected by georg schanz.[ ] from these and other sources it is clear that the position of the artisan in the towns was in proportion much better than even that of the peasants at that time, and therefore immeasurably superior to anything he has enjoyed since. in south germany at this period the average price of beef was about two denarii[ ] a pound, while the daily wages of the masons and carpenters, in addition to their keep and lodging, amounted in the summer to about twenty, and in the winter to about sixteen of these denarii. in saxony the same journeymen-craftsmen earned on the average, besides their maintenance, two groschen four pfennige a day, or about one-third the value of a bushel of corn. in addition to this, in some cases the workmen had weekly gratuities under the name of "bathing money"; and in this connection it may be noticed that a holiday for the purpose of bathing once a fortnight, once a week, or even oftener, as the case might be, was stipulated for by the guilds, and generally recognized as a legitimate demand. the common notion of the uniform uncleanliness of the mediæval man requires to be considerably modified when one closely investigates the condition of town life, and finds everywhere facilities for bathing in winter and summer alike. untidiness and uncleanliness, according to our notions, there may have been in the streets and in the dwellings in many cases, owing to inadequate provisions for the disposal of refuse and the like; but we must not therefore extend this idea to the person, and imagine that the mediæval craftsman or even peasant was as unwholesome as, say, the east european peasant of to-day. when the wages received by the journeymen artisans are compared with the prices of commodities previously given, it will be seen how relatively easy were their circumstances; and the extent of their well-being may be further judged from the wealth of their guilds, which, although varying in different places, at all times formed a considerable proportion of the wealth of the town. the guild system was based upon the notion that the individual master and workman was working as much in the interest of the guild as for his own advantage. each member of the guild was alike under the obligation to labour, and to labour in accordance with the rules laid down by his guild, and at the same time had the right of equal enjoyment with his fellow-guildsmen of all advantages pertaining to the particular branch of industry covered by the guild. every guildsman had to work himself _in propriâ personâ_; no contractor was tolerated who himself "in ease and sloth doth live on the sweat of others, and puffeth himself up in lustful pride." were a guild-master ill and unable to manage the affairs of his workshop, it was the council of the guild, and not himself or his relatives, who installed a representative for him and generally looked after his affairs. it was the guild again which procured the raw material, and distributed it in relatively equal proportions amongst its members; or where this was not the case, the time and place were indicated at which the guildsman might buy at a fixed maximum price. every master had equal right to the use of the common property and institutions of the guild, which in some industries included the essentials of production, as, for example, in the case of the woollen manufacturers, where wool-kitchens, carding-rooms, bleaching-houses and the like were common to the whole guild. needless to say, the relations between master and apprentices and master and journeymen were rigidly fixed down to the minutest detail. the system was thoroughly patriarchal in its character. in the hey-day of the guilds, every apprentice and most of the journeymen regarded their actual condition as a period of preparation which would end in the glories of mastership. for this dear hope they were ready on occasion to undergo cheerfully the most arduous duties. the education in handicraft, and, we may add, the supervision of the morals of the blossoming members of the guild, was a department which greatly exercised its administration. on the other hand, the guild in its corporate capacity was bound to maintain sick or incapacitated apprentices and journeymen, though after the journeymen had developed into a distinct class, and the consequent rise of the journeymen-guilds, the latter function was probably in most cases taken over by the latter. the guild laws against adulteration, scamped work, and the like, were sometimes ferocious in their severity. for example, in some towns the baker who misconducted himself in the matter of the composition of his bread was condemned to be shut up in a basket which was fixed at the end of a long pole, and let down so many times to the bottom of a pool of dirty water. in the year two grocers, together with a female assistant, were burnt alive at nürnberg for adulterating saffron and spices, and a similar instance happened at augsburg in . from what we have said it will be seen that guild life, like the life of the town as a whole, was essentially a social life. it was a larger family, into which various blood families were merged. the interest of each was felt to be the interest of all, and the interest of all no less the interest of each. but in many towns, outside the town population properly speaking, outside the patrician families who generally governed the rath, outside the guilds, outside the city organization altogether, there were other bodies dwelling within the walls and forming _imperia in imperiis_. these were the religious corporations, whose possessions were often extensive, and who, dwelling within their own walls, shut out from the rest of the town, were subject only to their own ordinances. the quasi-religious, quasi-military order of the teutonic knights (_deutscher orden_), founded at the time of the crusades, was the wealthiest and largest of these corporations. in addition to the extensive territories which it held in various parts of the empire, it had establishments in a large number of cities. besides this there were, of course, the orders of the augustinians and carthusians, and a number of less important foundations, who had their cloisters in various towns. at the beginning of the sixteenth century, the pomp, pride, and licentiousness of the teutonic order drew upon it the especial hatred of the townsfolk; and amid the general wreck of religious houses none were more ferociously despoiled than those belonging to this order. there were, moreover, in some towns, the establishments of princely families, which were regarded by the citizens with little less hostility than that accorded to the religious orders. such were the explosive elements of town life when changing conditions were tending to dislocate the whole structure of mediæval existence. the capture of constantinople by the turks in had struck a heavy blow at the commerce of the bavarian cities which had come by way of constantinople and venice. this latter city lost one by one its trading centres in the east, and all oriental traffic by way of the black sea was practically stopped. it was the dutch cities which inherited the wealth and influence of the german towns when vasco da gama's discovery of the cape route to the east began to have its influence on the trade of the world. this diversion of oriental traffic from the old overland route was the starting-point of the modern merchant navy, and it must be placed amongst the most potent causes of the break-up of mediæval civilization. the above change, although immediately felt by the german towns, was not realized by them in its full importance either as to its causes or its consequences for more than a century; but the decline of their prosperity was nevertheless sensible, even now, and contributed directly to the coming upheaval. the impatience of the prince, the prelate, the noble, and the wealthy burgher at the restraints which the system of the middle ages placed upon his activity as an individual in the acquisition for his own behoof, and the disposal at his own pleasure, of wealth, regardless of the consequences to his neighbour, found expression, and a powerful lever, in the introduction from italy of the roman law in place of the old canon and customary law of europe. the latter never regarded the individual as an independent and autonomous entity, but invariably treated him with reference to a group or social body, of which he might be the head or merely a subordinate member; but in any case the filaments of custom and religious duty attached him to a certain humanity outside himself, whether it were a village community, a guild, a township, a province, or the empire. the idea of a right to individual autonomy in his dealings with men never entered into the mediæval man's conception. hence the mere possession of property was not recognized by mediæval law as conferring any absolute rights in its holder to its unregulated use, and the basis of the mediæval notions of property was the association of responsibility and duty with ownership. in other words, the notion of _trust_ was never completely divorced from that of _possession_. the roman law rested on a totally different basis. it represented the legal ethics of a society on most of its sides brutally and crassly individualistic. that that society had come to an end instead of evolving to its natural conclusion--a developed capitalistic individualism such as exists to-day--was due to the weakness of its economic basis, owing to the limitation at that time of man's power over nature, which deprived it of recuperative and defensive force, thereby leaving it a prey not only to internal influences of decay but also to violent destructive forces from without. nevertheless, it left a legacy of a ready-made legal system to serve as an implement for the first occasion when economic conditions should be once more ready for progress to resume the course of individualistic development, abruptly brought to an end by the fall of ancient civilization as crystallized in the roman empire. the popular courts of the village, of the mark, and of the town, which had existed up to the beginning of the sixteenth century with all their ancient functions, were extremely democratic in character. cases were decided on their merits, in accordance with local custom, by a body of jurymen chosen from among the freemen of the district, to whom the presiding functionaries, most of whom were also of popular selection, were little more than assessors. the technicalities of a cut-and-dried system were unknown. the catholic-germanic theory of the middle ages proper, as regards the civil power in all its functions, from the highest downward, was that of the mere administrator of justice as such; whereas the roman law regarded the magistrate as the vicegerent of the _princeps_ or _imperator_, in whose person was absolutely vested as its supreme embodiment the whole power of the state. the divinity of the emperors was a recognition of this fact; and the influence of the roman law revived the theory as far as possible under the changed conditions, in the form of the doctrine of the divine right of kings--a doctrine which was totally alien to the catholic feudal conception of the middle ages. this doctrine, moreover, received added force from the oriental conception of the position of the ruler found in the old testament, from which protestantism drew so much of its inspiration. but apart from this aspect of the question, the new juridical conception involved that of a system of rules as the crystallized embodiment of the abstract "state," given through its representatives, which could under no circumstances be departed from, and which could only be modified in their operation by legal quibbles that left to them their nominal integrity. the new law could therefore only be administered by a class of men trained specially for the purpose, of which the plastic customary law borne down the stream of history from primitive times, and insensibly adapting itself to new conditions but understood in its broader aspects by all those who might be called to administer it, had little need. the roman law, the study of which was started at bologna in the twelfth century, as might naturally be expected, early attracted the attention of the german emperors as a suitable instrument for use on emergencies. but it made little real headway in germany itself as against the early institutions until the fifteenth century, when the provincial power of the princes of the empire was beginning to overshadow the central authority of the titular chief of the holy roman empire. the former, while strenuously resisting the results of its application from above, found in it a powerful auxiliary in their courts in riveting their power over the estates subject to them. as opposed to the delicately adjusted hierarchical notions of feudalism, which did not recognize any absoluteness of dominion either over persons or things, in short for which neither the head of the state had any inviolate authority as such, nor private property any inviolable rights or sanctity as such, the new jurisprudence made corner-stones of both these conceptions. even the canon law, consisting in a mass of papal decretals dating from the early middle ages, and which, while undoubtedly containing considerable traces of the influence of roman law, was nevertheless largely customary in its character, with an infusion of christian ethics, had to yield to the new jurisprudence, and that too in countries where the reformation had been unable to replace the old ecclesiastical dogma and organization. the principles and practice of the roman law were sedulously inculcated by the tribe of civilian lawyers who by the beginning of the sixteenth century infested every court throughout europe. every potentate, great and small, little as he might like its application by his feudal overlord to himself, was yet only too ready and willing to invoke its aid for the oppression of his own vassals or peasants. thus the civil law everywhere triumphed. it became the juridical expression of the political, economical, and religious change which marks the close of the middle ages and the beginnings of the modern commercial world. it must not be supposed, however, that no resistance was made to it. everywhere in contemporary literature, side by side with denunciations of the new mercenary troops, the _landsknechte_, we find uncomplimentary allusions to the race of advocates, notaries, and procurators who, as one writer has it, "are increasing like grasshoppers in town and in country year by year." whenever they appeared, we are told, countless litigious disputes sprang up. he who had but the money in hand might readily defraud his poorer neighbour in the name of law and right. "woe is me!" exclaims one author, "in my home there is but one procurator, and yet is the whole country round about brought into confusion by his wiles. what a misery will this horde bring upon us!" everywhere was complaint and in many places resistance. as early as we find the bavarian estates vigorously complaining that all the courts were in the hands of doctors. they demanded that the rights of the land and the ancient custom should not be cast aside; but that the courts as of old should be served by reasonable and honest judges, who should be men of the same feudal livery and of the same country as those whom they tried. again in , when the evil had become still more crying, we find the estates of würtemberg petitioning duke ulrich that the supreme court "shall be composed of honourable, worthy, and understanding men of the nobles and of the towns, who shall not be doctors, to the intent that the ancient usages and customs should abide, and that it should be judged according to them in such wise that the poor man might no longer be brought to confusion." in many covenants of the end of the fifteenth century, express stipulation is made that they should not be interpreted by a doctor or licentiate, and also in some cases that no such doctor or licentiate should be permitted to reside or to exercise his profession within certain districts. great as was the economical influence of the new jurists in the tribunals, their political influence in the various courts of the empire, from the _reichskammergericht_ downwards, was, if anything, greater. says wimpfeling, the first writer on the art of education in the modern world: "according to the loathsome doctrines of the new jurisconsults, the prince shall be everything in the land and the people naught. the people shall only obey, pay tax, and do service. moreover, they shall not alone obey the prince but also them that he has placed in authority, who begin to puff themselves up as the proper lords of the land, and to order matters so that the princes themselves do as little as may be reign." from this passage it will be seen that the modern bureaucratic state, in which government is as nearly as possible reduced to mechanism and the personal relation abolished, was ushered in under the auspices of the civil law. how easy it was for the civilian to effect the abolition of feudal institutions may be readily imagined by those cognizant of the principles of roman law. for example, the roman law, of course, making no mention of the right of the mediæval "estates" to be consulted in the levying of taxes or in other questions, the jurist would explain this right to his too willing master, the prince, as an abuse which had no legal justification, and which, the sooner it were abolished in the interest of good government the better it would be. all feudal rights as against the power of an overlord were explained away by the civil jurist, either as pernicious abuses, or, at best, as favours granted in the past by the predecessors of the reigning monarch, which it was within his right to truncate or to abrogate at his will. from the preceding survey will be clearly perceived the important rôle which the new jurisprudence played on the continent of europe in the gestation of the new phase which history was entering upon in the sixteenth century. even the short sketch given will be sufficient to show that it was not in one department only that it operated; but that, in addition to its own domain of law proper, its influence was felt in modifying economical, political, and indirectly even ethical and religious conditions. from this time forth feudalism slowly but surely gave place to the newer order, all that remained being certain of its features, which, crystallized into bureaucratic forms, were doubly veneered with a last trace of mediæval ideas and a denser coating of civilian conceptions. this transitional europe, and not mediæval europe, was the europe which lasted on until the eighteenth century, and which practically came to an end with the french revolution. footnotes: [ ] one silver groschen = - / d. [ ] the authorities for the above data may be found in janssen, i., vol. i., bk. iii., especially pp. - . [ ] _zur geschichte der deutschen gesellenverbände._ leipzig, . [ ] c. / d. the denarius was the south german equivalent of the north german pfennig, of which twelve went to the groschen. chapter vi the revolt of the knighthood we have already pointed out in more than one place the position to which the smaller nobility, or the knighthood, had been reduced by the concatenation of causes which was bringing about the dissolution of the old mediæval order of things, and, as a consequence, ruining the knights both economically and politically--economically by the rise of capitalism as represented by the commercial syndicates of the cities; by the unprecedented power and wealth of the city confederations, especially of the hanseatic league; by the rising importance of the newly developed world-market; by the growing luxury and the enormous rise in the prices of commodities concurrently with the reduction in value of the feudal land-tenures; and by the limitation of the possibilities of acquiring wealth by highway robbery, owing to imperial constitutions, on the one hand, and increased powers of defence on the part of the trading community, on the other--politically, by the new modes of warfare in which artillery and infantry, composed of comparatively well-drilled mercenaries (_landsknechte_), were rapidly making inroads into the omnipotence of the ancient feudal chivalry, and reducing the importance of individual skill or prowess in the handling of weapons, and by the development of the power of the princes or higher nobility, partly due to the influence which the roman civil law now began to exercise over the older customary constitution of the empire, and partly to the budding centralism of authority--which in france and england became a national centralization, but in germany, in spite of the temporary ascendancy of charles v, finally issued in a provincial centralization in which the princes were _de facto_ independent monarchs. the imperial constitution of , forbidding private war, applied, it must be remembered, only to the lesser nobility and not to the higher, thereby placing the former in a decidedly ignominious position as regards their feudal superiors. and though this particular enactment had little immediate result, yet it was none the less resented as a blow struck at the old knightly privilege. the mental attitude of the knighthood in the face of this progressing change in their position was naturally an ambiguous one, composed partly of a desire to hark back to the haughty independence of feudalism, and partly of sympathy with the growing discontent among other classes and with the new spirit generally. in order that the knights might succeed in recovering their old or even in maintaining their actual position against the higher nobility, the princes, backed as these now largely were by the imperial power, the co-operation of the cities was absolutely essential to them, but the obstacles in the way of such a co-operation proved insurmountable. the towns hated the knights for their lawless practices, which rendered trade unsafe and not infrequently cost the lives of the citizens. the knights for the most part, with true feudal hauteur, scorned and despised the artisans and traders who had no territorial family name and were unexercised in the higher chivalric arts. the grievances of the two parties were, moreover, not identical, although they had their origin in the same causes. the cities were in the main solely concerned to maintain their old independent position, and especially to curb the growing disposition at this time of the other estates to use them as milch cows from which to draw the taxation necessary to the maintenance of the empire. for example, at the reichstag opened at nürnberg on november , --to discuss the questions of the establishment of perpetual peace within the empire, of organizing an energetic resistance to the inroads of the turks, and of placing on a firm foundation the imperial privy council (_kammergericht_) and the supreme council (_reichsregiment_)--at which were represented twenty-six imperial towns, thirty-eight high prelates, eighteen princes, and twenty-nine counts and barons--the representatives of the cities complained grievously that their attendance was reduced to a farce, since they were always out-voted, and hence obliged to accept the decisions of the other estates. they stated that their position was no longer bearable, and for the first time drew up an act of protest, which further complained of the delay in the decisions of the imperial courts; of their sufferings from the right of private war, which was still allowed to subsist in defiance of the constitution; of the increase of customs-stations on the part of the princes and prince-prelates; and, finally, of the debasement of the coinage due to the unscrupulous practices of these notables and of the jews. the only sympathy the other estates vouchsafed to the plaints of the cities was with regard to the right of private war, which the higher nobles were also anxious to suppress amongst the lower, though without prejudice, of course, to their own privileges in this line. all the other articles of the act of protest were coolly waived aside. from all this it will be seen that not much co-operation was to be expected between such heterogeneous bodies as the knighthood and the free towns, in spite of their common interest in checking the threateningly advancing power of the princes and the central imperial authority in so far as it was manned and manipulated by the princes. amid the decaying knighthood there was, as we have already intimated, one figure which stood out head and shoulders above every other noble of the time, whether prince or knight, and that was franz von sickingen. he has been termed, not without truth, "the last flower of german chivalry," since in him the old knightly qualities flashed up in conjunction with the old knightly power and splendour with a brightness hardly known even in the palmiest days of mediæval life. it was, however, the last flicker of the light of german chivalry. with the death of sickingen and the collapse of his revolt the knighthood of central europe ceased any longer to play an independent part in history. sickingen, although technically only one of the lower nobility, was deemed about the time of luther's appearance to hold the immediate destinies of the empire in his hand. wealthy, inspiring confidence and enthusiasm as a leader, possessed of more than one powerful and strategically situated stronghold, he held court at his favourite residence, the castle of the landstuhl, in the rhenish palatinate, in a style which many a prince of the empire might have envied. as honoured guests were to be found attending on him humanists, poets, minstrels, partisans of the new theology, astrologers, alchemists, and men of letters generally--in short, the whole intelligence and culture of the period. foremost amongst these, and chief confidant of sickingen, was the knight, courtier, poet, essayist, and pamphleteer, ulrich von hutten, whose pen was ever ready to champion with unstinted enthusiasm the cause of the progressive ideas of his age. he first took up the cudgels against the obscurantists on behalf of humanism as represented by erasmus and reuchlin, the latter of whom he bravely defended in his dispute with the inquisition and the monks of cologne, and in his contributions to the _epistolæ obscurorum virorum_ we see the youthful ardour of the renaissance in full blast in its onslaught on the forces of mediæval obstruction. unlike most of those with whom he was first associated, hutten passed from being the upholder of the new learning to the rôle of champion of the reformation; and it was largely through his influence that sickingen took up the cause of luther and his movement. sickingen had been induced by charles v to assist him in an abortive attempt to invade france in , from which campaign he had returned without much benefit either material or moral, save that charles was left heavily in his debt. the accumulated hatred of generations for the priesthood had made sickingen a willing instrument in the hands of the reforming party, and believing that charles now lay to some extent in his power, he considered the moment opportune for putting his long-cherished scheme into operation for reforming the constitution of the empire. this reformation consisted, as was to be expected, in placing his own order on a firm footing, and of effectually curbing the power of the other estates, especially that of the prelates. sickingen wished to make the emperor and the lower nobility the decisive factors in his new scheme of things political. the emperor, it so happened, was for the moment away in spain, and sickingen's colleagues of the knightly order were becoming clamorous at the unworthy position into which they found themselves rapidly being driven. the feudal exactions of their princely lieges had reached a point which passed all endurance, and since they were practically powerless in the reichstags, no outlet was left for their discontent save by open revolt. impelled not less by his own inclinations than by the pressure of his companions, foremost among whom was hutten, sickingen decided at once to open the campaign. hutten, it would appear, attempted to enter into negotiations for the co-operation of the towns and of the peasants. so far as can be seen, strassburg and one or two other imperial cities returned favourable answers; but the precise measure of hutten's success cannot be ascertained, owing to the fact that all the documents relating to the matter perished in the destruction of sickingen's castle of ebernburg. it should be premised that on august th, previous to this declaration of war, a "brotherly convention" had been signed by a number of the knights, by which sickingen was appointed their captain, and they bound themselves to submit to no jurisdiction save their own, and pledged themselves to mutual aid in war in case of hostilities against any one of their number. through this "treaty of landau," sickingen had it in his power to assemble a considerable force at a moment's notice. consequently, a few days after the issue of the above manifesto, on august , , sickingen was able to start from the castle of ebernburg with an army of , foot and , knights, besides artillery, in the full confidence that he was about to destroy the position of the palatine prince-prelate and raise himself without delay to the chief power on the rhine. by an effective piece of audacity, that of sporting the imperial flag and the burgundian cross, franz spread abroad the idea that he was acting on behalf of the emperor, then absent in spain; and this largely contributed to the result that his army speedily rose to , knights and , footmen. the imperial diet at nürnberg now intervened, and ordered sickingen to cease the operations he had already begun, threatening him with the ban of the empire and a fine of , marks if he did not obey. to this summons franz sent a characteristically impudent reply, and light-heartedly continued the campaign, regardless of the warning which an astrologer had given him some time previously, that the year or would probably be fatal to him. it is evident that this campaign, begun so late in the year, was regarded by sickingen and the other leaders as merely a preliminary canter to a larger and more widespread movement the following spring, since on this occasion the swabian and franconian knighthood do not appear to have been even invited to take part in it. after an easy progress, during which several trifling places, the most important being st. wendel, were taken, franz with his army arrived on september th before the gates of trier. he had hoped to capture the town by surprise, and was indeed not without some expectation of co-operation and help from the citizens themselves. on his arrival he shot letters within the walls summoning the inhabitants to take his part against their tyrant; but either through the unwillingness of the burghers to act with knights, or through the vigilance of the archbishop, they were without effect. the gates remained closed; and in answer to sickingen's summons to surrender, richard replied that he would find him in the city if he could get inside. in the meantime sickingen's friends had signally failed in their attempts to obtain supplies and reinforcements for him, in the main owing to the energetic action of some of the higher nobles. the archbishop of trier showed himself as much a soldier as a churchman; and after a week's siege, during which sickingen made five assaults on the city, his powder ran out, and he was forced to retire. he at once made his way back to ebernburg, where he intended to pass the winter, since he saw that it was useless to continue the campaign, with his own army diminishing and the hoped-for supplies not appearing, whilst the forces of his antagonists augmented daily. in his stronghold of ebernburg he could rely on being secure from all attack until he was able to again take the field on the offensive, as he anticipated doing in the spring. in spite of the obvious failure of the autumnal campaign, the cause of the knighthood did not by any means look irretrievably desperate, since there was always the possibility of successful recruitments the following spring. ulrich von hutten was doing his utmost in würtemberg and switzerland to scrape together men and money, though up to this time without much success, while other emissaries of sickingen were working with the same object in breisgau and other parts of southern germany. relying on these expected reinforcements, franz was confident of victory when he should again take the field, and in the meantime he felt himself quite secure in one or other of his strong places, which had recently undergone extensive repairs and seemed to be impregnable. in this anticipation he was deceived, for he had not reckoned with the new and more potent weapons of attack which were replacing the battering-ram and other mediæval besieging appliances. franz retired to his strong castle of the landstuhl to await the onslaught of the princes which followed in the spring. after heavy bombardment sickingen was mortally wounded on may th, and the place was immediately surrendered. the next day the princes entered the castle, where, in an underground chamber, their enemy lay dying. he was so near his end that he could scarcely distinguish his three arch-enemies one from the other. "my dear lord," he said to the count palatine, his feudal superior, "i had not thought that i should end thus," taking off his cap and giving him his hand. "what has impelled thee, franz," asked the archbishop of trier, "that thou hast so laid waste and harmed me and my poor people?" "of that it were too long to speak," answered sickingen, "but i have done nought without cause. i go now to stand before a greater lord." here it is worthy of remark that the princes treated franz with all the knightliness and courtesy which were customary between social equals in the days of chivalry, addressing him at most rather as a rebellious child than as an insurgent subject. the prince of hesse was about to give utterance to a reproach, but he was interrupted by the count palatine, who told him that he must not quarrel with a dying man. the count's chamberlain said some sympathetic words to franz, who replied to him: "my dear chamberlain, it matters little about me. it is not i who am the cock round which they are dancing." when the princes had withdrawn, his chaplain asked him if he would confess; but franz replied: "i have confessed to god in my heart," whereupon the chaplain gave him absolution; and as he went to fetch the host "the last of the knights" passed quietly away, alone and abandoned. it is related by spalatin that after his death some peasants and domestics placed his body in an old armour-chest, in which they had to double the head on to the knees. the chest was then let down by a rope from the rocky eminence on which stands the now ruined castle, and was buried beneath a small chapel in the village below. the scene we have just described in the castle vault meant not merely the tragedy of a hero's death, nor merely the destruction of a faction or party, it meant the end of an epoch. with sickingen's death one of the most salient and picturesque elements in the mediæval life of central europe received its death-blow. the knighthood as a distinct factor in the polity of europe henceforth existed no more. spalatin relates that on the death of sickingen the princely party anticipated as easy a victory over the religious revolt as they had achieved over the knighthood. "the mock emperor is dead," so the phrase went, "and the mock pope will soon be dead also." hutten, already an exile in switzerland, did not many months survive his patron and leader, sickingen. the rôle which erasmus played in this miserable tragedy was only what was to be expected from the moral cowardice which seemed ingrained in the character of the great humanist leader. erasmus had already begun to fight shy of the reformation movement, from which he was about to separate himself definitely. he seized the present opportunity to quarrel with hutten; and to hutten's somewhat bitter attacks on him in consequence he replied with ferocity in his _spongia erasmi adversus aspergines hutteni_. hutten had had to fly from basel to mülhausen and thence to zürich, in the last stages of syphilitic disease. he was kindly received by the reformer, zwingli of zürich, who advised him to try the waters of pfeffers, and gave him letters of recommendation to the abbot of that place. he returned, in no wise benefited, to zürich, when zwingli again befriended the sick knight, and sent him to a friend of his, the "reformed" pastor of the little island of "ufenau," at the other end of the lake, where after a few weeks' suffering he died in abject destitution, leaving, it is said, nothing behind him but his pen. the disease from which hutten suffered the greater part of his life, at that time a comparatively new importation and much more formidable even than nowadays, may well have contributed to an irascibility of temper and to a certain recklessness which the typical free-lance of the reformation in its early period exhibited. hutten was never a theologian, and the reformation seems to have attracted him mainly from its political side as implying the assertion of the dawning feeling of german nationality as against the hated enemies of freedom of thought and the new light, the clerical satellites of the roman see. he was a true son of his time, in his vices no less than in his virtues; and no one will deny his partiality for "wine, women, and play." there is reason, indeed, to believe that the latter at times during his later career provided his sole means of subsistence. the hero of the reformation, luther, with whom melanchthon may be associated in this matter, could be no less pusillanimous on occasion than the hero of the new learning, erasmus. luther undoubtedly saw in sickingen's revolt a means of weakening the catholic powers against which he had to fight, and at its inception he avowedly favoured the enterprise. in some of the reforming writings luther is represented as the incarnation of christian resignation and mildness, and as talking of twelve legions of angels and deprecating any appeal to force as unbefitting the character of an evangelical apostle. that such, however, was not his habitual attitude is evident to all who are in the least degree acquainted with his real conduct and utterances. on one occasion he wrote: "if they (the priests) continue their mad ravings it seems to me that there would be no better method and medicine to stay them than that kings and princes did so with force, armed themselves and attacked these pernicious people who do poison all the world, and once for all did make an end of their doings with weapons, not with words. for even as we punish thieves with the sword, murderers with the rope, and heretics with fire, wherefore do we not lay hands on these pernicious teachers of damnation, on popes, on cardinals, bishops, and the swarm of the roman sodom--yea, with every weapon which lieth within our reach, _and wherefore do we not wash our hands in their blood?_"[ ] it is, however, in a manifesto published in july , just before sickingen's attack on the archbishop of trier, for which enterprise it was doubtless intended as a justification, that luther expresses himself in unmeasured terms against the "biggest wolves," the bishops, and calls upon "all dear children of god and all true christians" to drive them out by force from the "sheep-stalls." in this pamphlet, entitled _against the falsely called spiritual order of the pope and the bishops_, he says: "it were better that every bishop were murdered, every foundation or cloister rooted out, than that one soul should be destroyed, let alone that all souls should be lost for the sake of their worthless trumpery and idolatry. of what use are they who thus live in lust, nourished by the sweat and labour of others, and are a stumbling-block to the word of god? they fear bodily uproar and despise spiritual destruction. are they wise and honest people? if they accepted god's word and sought the life of the soul, god would be with them, for he is a god of peace, and they need fear no uprising; but if they will not hear god's word, but rage and rave with bannings, burnings, killings, and every evil, what do they better deserve than a strong uprising which shall sweep them from the earth? _and we would smile did it happen._[ ] as the heavenly wisdom saith: 'ye have hated my chastisement and despised my doctrine; behold, i will also laugh at ye in your distress, and will mock ye when misfortune shall fall upon your heads.'" in the same document he denounces the bishops as an accursed race, as "thieves, robbers, and usurers." swine, horses, stones, and wood were not so destitute of understanding as the german people under the sway of them and their pope. the religious houses are similarly described as "brothels, low taverns, and murder dens," he winds up this document, which he calls his "bull," by proclaiming that "all who contribute body, goods, and honour that the rule of the bishops may be destroyed are god's dear children and true christians, obeying god's command and fighting against the devil's order"; and, on the other hand, that "all who give the bishops a willing obedience are the devil's own servants, and fight against god's order and law."[ ] no sooner, however, did things begin to look bad with sickingen than luther promptly sought to disengage himself from all complicity or even sympathy with him and his losing cause. so early as december , , he writes to his friend wenzel link: "franz von sickingen has begun war against the palatine. it will be a very bad business." (_franciscus sickingen palatino bellum indixit, res pessima futura est._) his colleague, melanchthon, a few days later, hastened to deprecate the insinuation that luther had had any part or lot in initiating the revolt. "franz von sickingen," he wrote, "by his great ill-will injures the cause of luther; and notwithstanding that he be entirely dissevered from him, nevertheless whenever he undertaketh war he wisheth to seem to act for the public benefit, and not for his own. he doth even now pursue a most infamous course of plunder on the rhine." in another letter he says: "i know how this tumult grieveth him (luther),"[ ] and this respecting the man who had shortly before written of the princes that their tyranny and haughtiness were no longer to be borne, alleging that god would not longer endure it, and that the common man even was becoming intelligent enough to deal with them by force if they did not mend their manners. a more telling example of the "don't-put-him-in-the-horse-pond" attitude could scarcely be desired. that it was characteristic of the "great reformer" will be seen later on when we find him pursuing a similar policy anent the revolt of the peasants. after the fall of the landstuhl all sickingen's castles and most of those of his immediate allies and friends were of course taken, and the greater part of them destroyed. the knighthood was now to all intents and purposes politically helpless and economically at the door of bankruptcy, owing to the suddenly changed conditions of which we have spoken in the introduction and elsewhere as supervening since the beginning of the century: the unparalleled rise in prices, concurrently with the growing extravagance, the decline of agriculture in many places, and the increasing burdens put upon the knights by their feudal superiors, and last, but not least, the increasing obstacles in the way of the successful pursuit of the profession of highway robbery. the majority of them, therefore, clung with relentless severity to the feudal dues of the peasants, which now constituted their main, and in many cases their only, source of revenue; and hence, abandoning the hope of independence, they threw in their lot with the authorities, the princes, lay and ecclesiastic, in the common object of both, that of reducing the insurgent peasants to complete subjection. footnotes: [ ] italics the present author's. [ ] italics the present author's. [ ] _sämmtliche werke_ vol. xxviii. pp. - . [ ] _corpus reformatorum_, vol. i. pp. - . chapter vii general signs of religious and social revolt peasant revolts of a sporadic character are to be met with throughout the middle ages even in their halcyon days. some of these, like the jacquerie in france and the revolt associated with the name of wat tyler in england, were of a serious and more or less extended character. but most of them were purely local and of no significance, apart from temporary and passing circumstances. by the last quarter of the fifteenth century, however, peasant risings had become increasingly numerous and their avowed aims much more definite and far-reaching than, as a rule, were those of an earlier date. in saying this we are referring to those revolts which were directly initiated by the peasantry, the serfs, and the villeins of the time, and which had as their main object the direct amelioration of the peasant's lot. movements of a primarily religious character were, of course, of a somewhat different nature, but the tendency was increasingly, as we approach the period of the reformation, for the two currents to merge one in the other. the echoes of the hussite movement in bavaria at the beginning of the century spread far and wide throughout central europe, and had by no means spent their force as the century drew towards its close. from this time forward recurrent indications of social revolt with a strong religious colouring, or a religious revolt with a strong social colouring, became chronic in the germanic lands and those adjacent thereto. as an example may be taken the movement of hans boheim, of niklashausen, in the diocese of würzburg, in franconia, in , and which is regarded by some historians as the first of the movements leading directly up to those of the lutheran reformation. hans claimed a divine mission for preaching the gospel to the common man. hans preached asceticism and claimed niklashausen as a place of pilgrimage for a new worship of the virgin. there was little in this to alarm the authorities till hans announced that the queen of heaven had revealed to him that there was to be no lay or spiritual authority, but that all men should be brothers, earning their bread by the sweat of their brows, paying no more imposts or dues, holding land in common, and sharing alike in all things. the movement went on for some months, spreading rapidly in the neighbouring territories. at last hans was seized by armed men while asleep and hurried to würzburg. the affair caused immense commotion, and by the sunday following, it is stated, , armed peasants assembled at niklashausen. led by a decayed knight and his son, , of them marched to würzburg, demanding their prophet at the gate of the bishop's castle. by promises and cajolery, they were induced to disperse by the prince-bishop, who, as soon as he saw they were returning home in straggling parties, treacherously sent a body of his knights after them, killing some and taking others prisoners. two of the ringleaders were beheaded outside the castle, and at the same time the prophet hans boheim was burnt to ashes. thus ended a typical religio-social peasant revolt of the half-century preceding the great reformation movement. in the oppressed and plundered villeins of kempten revolted, but the movement was quelled by the emperor himself after a compromise. a great rising took place in elsass (alsace) in among the feudatories of the bishop of strassburg, with the usual object of freedom for the "common man," abolition of feudal exactions, church reformation, etc. this movement is interesting, as having first received the name of the _bundschuh_. it was decided that as the knight was distinguished by his spurs, so the peasant should have as his device the common shoe of his class, laced from the ankle through to the knee by leathern thongs, and the banner whereon this emblem was depicted was accordingly made. the movement was, however, betrayed and mercilessly crushed by the neighbouring knighthood. a few years later a similar movement, also having the _bundschuh_ for its device, took place in the regions of the upper and middle rhine. this movement created a panic among all the privileged classes, from the emperor down to the knight. the situation was discussed in no less than three separate assemblies of the states. it was, however, eventually suppressed for the time being. a few years later, in , it again burst forth under the leadership of an active adherent of the former movement, one joss fritz, in baden, at the village of lehen, near the town of freiburg. the organization in this case, besides being widespread, was exceedingly good, and the movement was nearly successful when at the last moment it was betrayed. even in switzerland there were peasant risings in the early years of the sixteenth century. about the same time the duchy of würtemberg was convulsed by a movement which took the name of the "poor conrad." its object was the freeing of the "common man" from feudal services and dues and the abolition of seignorial rights over the land, etc. but here again the movement was suppressed by duke ulrich and his knights. another rising took place in baden in . three years previously, in , occurred the great hungarian peasant rebellion under george daze. under the able leadership of the latter the peasants had some not inconsiderable initial successes, but this movement also, after some weeks, was cruelly suppressed. about the same time, too, occurred various insurrectionary peasant movements in the styrian and carinthian alpine districts. similar movements to those referred to were also going on during those early years of the fifteenth century in other parts of europe, but these, of course, do not concern us. the deep-reaching importance and effective spread of such movements was infinitely greater in the middle ages than in modern times. the same phenomenon presents itself to-day in backward and semi-barbaric communities. at first sight one is inclined to think that there has been no period in the world's history when it was so easy to stir up a population as the present, with our newspapers, our telegraphs, our aeroplane, our postal arrangements, and our railways. but this is just one of those superficial notions that are not confirmed by history. we are similarly apt to think that there was no age in which travel was so widespread and formed so great a part of the education of mankind as at present. there could be no greater mistake. the true age of travelling was the close of the middle ages, or what is known as the renaissance period. the man of learning, then just differentiated from the ecclesiastic, spent the greater part of his life in earning his intellectual wares from court to court and from university to university, just as the merchant personally carried his goods from city to city in an age in which commercial correspondence, bill-brokers, and the varied forms of modern business were but in embryo. it was then that travel really meant education, the acquirement of thorough and intimate knowledge of diverse manners and customs. travel was then not a pastime, but a serious element in life. in the same way the spread of a political or social movement was at least as rapid then as now, and far more penetrating. the methods were, of course, vastly different from the present; but the human material to be dealt with was far easier to mould, and kept its shape much more readily when moulded, than is the case nowadays. the appearance of a religious or political teacher in a village or small town of the middle ages was an event which keenly excited the interest of the inhabitants. it struck across the path of their daily life, leaving behind it a track hardly conceivable to-day. for one of the salient symptoms of the change which has taken place since that time is the disappearance of local centres of activity and the transference of the intensity of life to a few large towns. in the middle ages every town, small no less than large, was a more or less self-sufficing organism, intellectually and industrially, and was not essentially dependent on the outside world for its social sustenance. this was especially the case in central europe, where communication was much more imperfect and dangerous than in italy, france, or england. in a society without newspapers, without easy communication with the rest of the world, where the vast majority could neither read nor write, where books were rare and costly, and accessible only to the privileged few, a new idea bursting upon one of these communities was eagerly welcomed, discussed in the council chamber of the town, in the hall of the castle, in the refectory of the monastery, at the social board of the burgess, in the workroom, and, did it but touch his interests, in the hut of the peasant. it was canvassed, too, at church festivals (_kirchweihe_), the only regular occasion on which the inhabitants of various localities came together. in the absence of all other distraction, men thought it out in all the bearings which their limited intellectual horizon permitted. if calculated in any way to appeal to them it soon struck root, and became a part of their very nature, a matter for which, if occasion were, they were prepared to sacrifice goods, liberty, and even life itself. in the present day a new idea is comparatively slow in taking root. amid the myriad distractions of modern life, perpetually chasing one another, there is no time for any one thought, however wide-reaching in its bearings, to take a firm hold. in order that it should do so in the _modern mind_, it must be again and again borne in upon this not always too receptive intellectual substance. people require to read of it day after day in their newspapers, or to hear it preached from countless platforms, before any serious effect is created. in the simple life of former ages it was not so. the mode of transmitting intelligence, especially such as was connected with the stirring up of political and religious movements, was in those days of a nature of which we have now little conception. the sort of thing in vogue then may be compared to the methods adopted in india to prepare the mutiny of , when the mysterious cake was passed from village to village, signifying that the moment had come for the outbreak. the sense of _esprit de corps_ and of that kind of honour most intimately associated with it, it must also be remembered, was infinitely keener in ruder states of society than under a high civilization. the growth of civilization, as implying the disruption of the groups in which the individual is merged under more primitive conditions, and his isolation as an autonomous unit having vague and very elastic moral duties to his "country" or to mankind at large, but none towards any definite and proximate social whole, necessarily destroys that communal spirit which prevails in the former case. this is one of the striking truths which the history of these peasant risings illustrates in various ways and brings vividly home to us. chapter viii the great rising of the peasants and the anabaptist movement[ ] the year following the collapse of franz sickingen's rebellion saw the first mutterings of the great movement known as the peasants' war, the most extensive and important of all the popular insurrections of the middle ages, which, as we have seen in a previous chapter, had been led up to during the previous half-century by numerous sporadic movements throughout central europe having like aims. the first actual outbreak of the peasants' war took place in august , in the black forest, in the village of stühlingen, from an apparently trivial cause. it spread rapidly throughout the surrounding districts, having found a leader in a former soldier of fortune, hans müller by name. the so-called evangelical brotherhood sprang into existence. on the new movement becoming threatening it was opposed by the swabian league, a body in the interests of the germanic federation, its princes, and cities, whose function it was to preserve public tranquillity and enforce the imperial decrees. the peasant army was armed with the rudest weapons, including pitchforks, scythes, and axes; but nothing decisive of a military character took place this year. meanwhile the work of agitation was carried on far and wide throughout the south german territories. preachers of discontent among the peasantry and the former towns were everywhere agitating and organizing with a view to a general rising in the ensuing spring. negotiations were carried on throughout the winter with nobles and the authorities without important results. a diversion in favour of the peasants was caused by duke ulrich of würtemberg favouring the peasants' cause, which he hoped to use as a shoeing-horn to his own plans for recovering his ancestral domains, from which he had been driven on the grounds of a family quarrel under the ban of the empire in . he now established himself in his stronghold of hohentwiel, in würtemberg, on the swiss frontier. by february or the beginning of march peasant bands were organizing throughout southern germany. early in march a so-called peasants' parliament was held at memmingen, a small swabian town, at which the principal charter of the movement, the so-called "twelve articles," was adopted. this important document has a strong religious colouring, the political and economic demands of the peasants being led up to and justified by biblical quotations. they all turn on the customary grievances of the time. the "twelve articles" remain throughout the chief bill of rights of the south german peasantry, though there were other versions of the latter current in certain districts. what was said before concerning the local sporadic movements which had been going en for a generation previously applies equally to the great uprising of . the rapidity with which the ideas represented by the movement, and in consequence the movement itself, spread, is marvellous. by the middle of april it was computed that no less than , peasants, besides necessitous townsfolk, were armed and in open rebellion. on the side of the nobles no adequate force was ready to meet the emergency. in every direction were to be seen flaming castles and monasteries. on all sides were bodies of armed countryfolk, organized in military fashion, dictating their will to the countryside and the small towns, whilst disaffection was beginning to show itself in a threatening manner among the popular elements of not a few important cities. a slight success gained by the swabian league at the upper swabian village of leipheim in the second week of april did not improve matters. in easter week, , it looked indeed as if the "twelve articles" at least would become realized, if not the christian commonwealth dreamed of by the religious sectaries established throughout the length and breadth of germany. princes, lords, and ecclesiastical dignitaries were being compelled far and wide to save their lives, after their property was probably already confiscated, by swearing allegiance to the christian league or brotherhood of the peasants and by countersigning the "twelve articles" and other demands of their refractory villeins and serfs. so threatening was the situation that the archduke ferdinand began himself to yield, in so far as to enter into negotiations with the insurgents. in many cases the leaders and chief men of the bands were got up in brilliant costume. we read of purple mantles and scarlet birettas with ostrich plumes as the costume of the leaders, of a suite of men in scarlet dress, of a vanguard of ten heralds, gorgeously attired. as lamprecht justly observes (_deutsche geschichte_, vol. v. p. ): "the peasant revolts were, in general, less in the nature of campaigns, or even of an uninterrupted series of minor military operations, than of a slow process of mobilization, interrupted and accompanied by continual negotiations with lords and princes--a mobilization which was rendered possible by the standing right of assembly and of carrying arms possessed by the peasants." the smaller towns everywhere opened their gates without resistance to the peasants, between whom and the poorer inhabitants an understanding commonly existed. the bands waxed fat with plunder of castles and religious houses, and did full justice to the contents of the rich monastic wine-cellars. early in april occurred one of the most notable incidents. it was at the little town of weinsberg, near the free town of heilbronn, in würtemberg. the town, which was occupied by a body of knights and men-at-arms, was attacked on easter sunday by the peasant bands, foremost among them being the "black troop" of that knightly champion of the peasant cause, florian geyer. it was followed by a peasant contingent, led by one jäcklein rohrbach, whose consuming passion was hatred of the ruling classes. the knights within the town were under the leadership of count von helfenstein. the entry of rohrbach's company into weinsberg was the signal for a massacre of the knightly host. some were taken prisoners for the moment, including helfenstein himself, but these were massacred next morning in the meadow outside the town by "jäcklein," as he was called. the events at weinsberg produced in the first instance a horror and consternation which was speedily followed by a lust for vengeance on the part of the privileged orders. in franconia and middle germany the peasant movement went on apace. in franconia one of its chief seats was the considerable town of rothenburg, on the tauber. the episcopal city of würzburg was also entered and occupied by the peasant bands in coalition with the discontented elements of the town. the sacking of churches and throwing open of religious houses characterized proceedings here as elsewhere. the locking up of a large peasant host in würzburg was undoubtedly a source of great weakness to the movement. in the east, in the tyrol and salzburg, there were similar risings to those farther west. in the latter case the prince-bishop was the obnoxious oppressor. the most interesting of the local movements was, however, in many respects that of thomas münzer in the town of mülhausen, in thuringia. thomas münzer is, perhaps, the best known of all the names in the peasants' revolt. in addition to the ultra-protestantism of his theological views, münzer had as his object the establishment of a communistic christian commonwealth. he started a practical exemplification of this among his own followers in the town itself. up to the beginning of may the insurrection had carried everything before it. truchsess and his men of the swabian league had proved themselves unable to cope with it. matters now changed. knights, men-at-arms, and free-lances were returning from the italian campaign of charles v after the battle of pavia. everywhere the revolt met with disaster. the mülhausen insurgents were destroyed at frankenhausen by forces of the count of hesse, of the duke of brunswick, and of the duke of saxony. this was on may th. three days before the defeat at frankenhausen, on may th, a decisive defeat was inflicted on the peasants by the forces of the swabian league, under truchsess, at böblingen, in würtemberg. savage ferocity signalized the treatment of the defeated peasants by the soldiery of the nobles. jäcklein rohrbach was roasted alive. truchsess with his soldiery then hurried north and inflicted a heavy defeat on the franconian peasant contingents at königshaven, on the tauber. these three defeats, following one another in little more than a fortnight, broke the back of the whole movement in germany proper. in elsass and lorraine the insurrection was crushed by the hired troops and the duke of lorraine; eastward, on the little river luibas. in the austrian territories, under the able leadership of michael gaismayr, one of the lesser nobility, it continued for some months longer, and the fear of gaismayr, who, it should be said, was the only man of really constructive genius the movement had produced, maintained itself with the privileged classes till his murder in the autumn of , at the instance of the bishop of brixen. the great peasant insurrection in germany failed through want of a well-thought-out plan and tactics, and, above all, through a want of cohesion among the various peasant forces operating in different sections of the country, between which no regular communications were kept up. the attitude of martin luther towards the peasants and their cause was base in the extreme. his action was mainly embodied in two documents, of which the first was issued about the middle of april, and the second a month later. the difference in tone between them is sufficiently striking. in the first, which bore the title, "an exhortation to peace on the twelve articles of the peasantry in swabia," luther sits on the fence, admonishing both parties of what he deemed their shortcomings. he was naturally pleased with those articles that demanded the free preaching of the gospel and abused the catholic clergy, and was not indisposed to assent to many of the economic demands. in fact, the document strikes one as distinctly more favourable to the insurgents than to their opponents. "we have," he wrote, "no one to thank for this mischief and sedition, save ye princes and lords, in especial ye blind bishops and mad priests and monks, who up to this day remain obstinate and do not cease to rage and rave against the holy gospel, albeit ye know that it is righteous, and that ye may not gainsay it. moreover, in your worldly regiment, ye do naught otherwise than flay and extort tribute, that ye may satisfy your pomp and vanity, till the poor, common man cannot, and may not, bear with it longer. the sword is on your neck. ye think ye sit so strongly in your seats, that none may cast you from them. such presumption and obstinate pride will twist your necks, as ye will see." and again: "god hath made it thus that they cannot, and will not, longer bear with your raging. if ye do it not of your free will, so shall ye be made to do it by way of violence and undoing." once more: "it is not peasants, my dear lords, who have set themselves up against you. god himself it is who setteth himself against you to chastise your evil-doing." he counsels the princes and lords to make peace with their peasants, observing with reference to the "twelve articles" that some of them are so just and righteous that before god and the world their worthiness is manifested, making good the words of the psalm that they heap contempt upon the heads of the princes. whilst he warns the peasants against sedition and rebellion, and criticizes some of the articles as going beyond the justification of holy writ, and whilst he makes side-hits at "the prophets of murder and the spirits of confusion which had found their way among them," the general impression given by the pamphlet is, as already said, one of unmistakable friendliness to the peasants and hostility to the lords. the manifesto may be summed up in the following terms: both sides are, strictly speaking, in the wrong, but the princes and lords have provoked the "common man" by their unjust exactions and oppressions; the peasants, on their side, have gone too far in many of their demands, notably in the refusal to pay tithes, and most of all in the notion of abolishing villeinage, which luther declares to be "straightway contrary to the gospel and thievish." the great sin of the princes remains, however, that of having thrown stumbling-blocks in the way of the gospel--_bien entendu_ the gospel according to luther--and the main virtue of the peasants was their claim to have this gospel preached. it can scarcely be doubted that the ambiguous tone of luther's rescript was interpreted by the rebellious peasants to their advantage and served to stimulate, rather than to check, the insurrection. meanwhile, the movement rose higher and higher, and reached thuringia, the district with which luther personally was most associated. his patron, and what is more, the only friend of toleration in high places, the noble-minded elector friedrich of saxony, fell ill and died on may th, and was succeeded by his younger brother johann, the same who afterwards assisted in the suppression of the thuringian revolt. almost immediately thereupon luther, who had been visiting his native town of eisleben, travelled through the revolted districts on his way back to wittenberg. he everywhere encountered black looks and jeers. when he preached, the münzerites would drown his voice by the ringing of bells. the signs of rebellion greeted him on all sides. the "twelve articles" were constantly thrown at his head. as the reports of violence towards the property and persons of some of his own noble friends reached him his rage broke all bounds. he seems, however, to have prudently waited a few days, until the cause of the peasants was obviously hopeless, before publicly taking his stand on the side of the authorities. on his arrival in wittenberg, he wrote a second pronouncement on the contemporary events, in which no uncertainty was left as to his attitude. it is entitled, "against the murderous and thievish bands of peasants."[ ] here he lets himself loose on the side of the oppressors with a bestial ferocity. "crush them" (the peasants), he writes, "strangle them and pierce them, in secret places and in sight of men, he who can, even as one would strike dead a mad dog!" all having authority who hesitated to extirpate the insurgents to the uttermost were committing a sin against god. "findest thou thy death therein," he writes, addressing the reader, "happy art thou: a more blessed death can never overtake thee, for thou diest in obedience to the divine word and the command of romans xiii. , and in the service of love, to save thy neighbour from the bonds of hell and the devil." never had there been such an infamous exhortation to the most dastardly murder on a wholesale scale since the albigensian crusade with its "strike them all: god will know his own"--a sentiment indeed that luther almost literally reproduces in one passage. the attitude of the official lutheran party towards the poor countryfolk continued as infamous after the war as it had been on the first sign that fortune was forsaking their cause. like master, like man. luther's jackal, the "gentle" melanchthon, specially signalized himself by urging on the feudal barons with scriptural arguments to the blood-sucking and oppression of their villeins. a humane and honourable nobleman, heinrich von einsiedel, was touched in conscience at the _corvées_ and heavy dues to which he found himself entitled. he sent to luther for advice upon the subject. luther replied that the existing exactions which had been handed down to him from his parents need not trouble his conscience, adding that it would not be good for _corvées_ to be given up, since the "common man" ought to have burdens imposed upon him, as otherwise he would become overbearing. he further remarked that a severe treatment in material things was pleasing to god, even though it might seem to be too harsh. spalatin writes in a like strain that the burdens in germany were, if anything, too light. subjects, according to melanchthon, ought to know that they are serving god in the burdens they bear for their superiors, whether it were journeying, paying tribute, or otherwise, and as pleasing to god as though they raised the dead at god's own behest. subjects should look up to their lords as wise and just men, and hence be thankful to them. however unjust, tyrannical, and cruel the lord might be, there was never any justification for rebellion. a friend and follower of luther and melanchthon--martin butzer by name--went still farther. according to this "reforming" worthy a subject was to obey his lord in everything. this was all that concerned him. it was not for him to consider whether what was enjoined was, or was not, contrary to the will of god. that was a matter for his feudal superior and god to settle between them. referring to the doctrines of the revolutionary sects, butzer urges the authorities to extirpate all those professing a false religion. such men, he says, deserve a heavier punishment than thieves, robbers, and murderers. even their wives and innocent children and cattle should be destroyed (_ap. janssen_, vol. i. p. ). luther himself quotes, in a sermon on "genesis," the instances of abraham and abimelech and other old testament worthies, as justifying slavery and the treatment of a slave as a beast of burden. "sheep, cattle, men-servants and maid-servants, they were all possessions," says luther, "to be sold as it pleased them like other beasts. it were even a good thing were it still so. for else no man may compel nor tame the servile folk" (_sämmtliche werke_, vol. xv. p. ). in other discourses he enforces the same doctrine, observing that if the world is to last for any time, and is to be kept going, it will be necessary to restore the patriarchal condition. capito, the strassburg preacher, in a letter to a colleague, writes lamenting that the pamphlets and discourses of luther had contributed not a little to give edge to the bloodthirsty vengeance of the princes and nobles after the insurrection. the total number of the peasants and their allies who fell either in fighting or at the hands of the executioners is estimated by anselm in his _berner chronik_ at , . it was certainly not less than , . for months after the executioner was active in many of the affected districts. spalatin says: "of hanging and beheading there is no end." another writer has it: "it was all so that even a stone had been moved to pity, for the chastisement and vengeance of the conquering lords was great." the executions within the jurisdiction of the swabian league alone are stated at , . truchsess's provost boasted of having hanged or beheaded , with his own hand. more than , fugitives were recorded. these, according to a swabian league order, were all outlawed in such wise that any one who found them might slay them without fear of consequences. the sentences and executions were conducted with true mediæval levity. it is narrated in a contemporary chronicle that in one village in the henneberg territory all the inhabitants had fled on the approach of the count and his men-at-arms save two tilers. the two were being led to execution when one appeared to weep bitterly, and his reply to interrogatories was that he bewailed the dwellings of the aristocracy thereabouts, for henceforth there would be no one to supply them with durable tiles. thereupon his companion burst out laughing, because, said he, it had just occurred to him that he would not know where to place his hat after his head had been taken off. these mildly humorous remarks obtained for both of them a free pardon. the aspect of those parts of the country where the war had most heavily raged was deplorable in the extreme. in addition to the many hundreds of castles and monasteries destroyed, almost as many villages and small towns had been levelled with the ground by one side or the other, especially by the swabian league and the various princely forces. many places were annihilated for having taken part with the peasants, even when they had been compelled by force to do so. fields in these districts were everywhere laid waste or left uncultivated. enormous sums were exacted as indemnity. in many of the villages peasants previously well-to-do were ruined. there seemed no limit to the bleeding of the "common man," under the pretence of compensation for damage done by the insurrection. the condition of the families of the dead and of the fugitives was appalling. numbers perished from starvation. the wives and children of the insurgents were in some cases forcibly driven from their homesteads and even from their native territory. in one of the pamphlets published in anent the events of that year we read: "houses are burned; fields and vineyards lie fallow; clothes and household goods are robbed or burned; cattle and sheep are taken away; the same as to horses and trappings. the prince, the gentleman, or the nobleman will have his rent and due. eternal god, whither shall the widows and poor children go forth to seek it?" referring to the lutheran campaign against friars and poor scholars, beggars, and pilgrims, the writer observes: "think ye now that because of god's anger for the sake of one beggar, ye must even for a season bear with twenty, thirty, nay, still more?" the courts of arbitration, which were established in various districts to adjudicate on the relations between lords and villeins, were naturally not given to favour the latter, whilst the fact that large numbers of deeds and charters had been burnt or otherwise destroyed in the course of the insurrection left open an extensive field for the imposition of fresh burdens. the record of the proceedings of one of the most important of these courts--that of the swabian league's jurisdiction, which sat at memmingen--in the dispute between the prince-abbot of kempten and his villeins is given in full in baumann's _akten_, pp. - . here, however, the peasants did not come off so badly as in some other places. meanwhile, all the other evils of the time, the monopolies of the merchant-princes of the cities and of the trading-syndicates, the dearness of living, the scarcity of money, etc., did not abate, but rather increased from year to year. the catholic church maintained itself especially in the south of germany, and the official reformation took on a definitely aristocratic character. according to baumann (_akten, vorwort_, v, vi), the true soul of the movement of consisted in the notion of "divine justice," the principle "that all relations, whether of political, social, or religious nature, have got to be ordered according to the directions of the 'gospel' as the sole and exclusive source and standard of all justice." the same writer maintains that there are three phases in the development of this idea, according to which he would have the scheme of historical investigation subdivided. in upper swabia, says he, "divine justice" found expression in the well-known "twelve articles," but here the notion of a political reformation was as good as absent. in the second phase, the "divine justice" idea began to be applied to political conditions. in tyrol and the austrian dominions, he observes, this political side manifested itself in local or, at best, territorial patriotism. it was only in franconia that all territorial patriotism or "particularism" was shaken off and the idea of the unity of the german peoples received as a political goal. the franconian influence gained over the würtembergers to a large extent, and the plan of reform elaborated by weigand and hipler for the heilbronn parliament was the most complete expression of this second phase of the movement. the third phase is represented by the rising in thuringia, and especially in its intellectual head, thomas münzer. here we have the doctrine of "divine justice" taking precedence of all else and assuming the form of a thoroughgoing theocratic scheme, to be realized by the german people. this division baumann is led to make with a view to the formulation of a convenient scheme for a "codex" of documents relating to the peasants' war. it may be taken as, in the main, the best general division that can be put forward, although, as we have seen, there are places where, and times when, the practical demands of the movement seem to have asserted themselves directly and spontaneously apart from any theory whatever. of the fate of many of the most active leaders of the revolt we know nothing. several heads of the movement, according to a contemporary writer, wandered about for a long time in misery, some of them indeed seeking refuge with the turks, who were still a standing menace to imperial christendom. the popular preachers vanished also on the suppression of the movement. the disastrous result of the peasants' war was prejudicial even to luther's cause in south germany. the catholic party reaped the advantage everywhere, evangelical preachers, even, where not insurrectionists, being persecuted. little distinction, in fact, was made in most districts between an opponent of the catholic church from luther's standpoint and one from karlstadt's or hubmayer's. amongst seventy-one heretics arraigned before the austrian court at ensisheim, only one was acquitted. the others were broken on the wheel, burnt, or drowned. there were some who were arrested ten or fifteen years later on charges connected with the revolt. treachery, of course, played a large part, as it has done in all defeated movements, in ensuring the fate of many of those who had been at all prominent. in fairness to luther, who otherwise played such a villainous rôle in connection with the peasants' movement, the fact should be recorded that he sheltered his old colleague, karlstadt, for a short time in the augustine monastery at wittenberg, after the latter's escape from rothenburg. wendel hipler continued for some time at liberty, and might probably have escaped altogether had he not entered a protest against the counts of hohenlohe for having seized a portion of his private fortune that lay within their power. the result of his action might have been foreseen. the counts, on hearing of it, revenged themselves by accusing him of having been a chief pillar of the rebellion. he had to flee immediately, and, after wandering about for some time in a disguise, one of the features of which is stated to have been a false nose, he was seized on his way to the reichstag which was being held at speier in . tenacious of his property to the last, he had hoped to obtain restitution of his rights from the assembled estates of the empire. some months later he died in prison at neustadt. of the victors, truchsess and frundsberg considered themselves badly treated by the authorities whom they had served so well, and frundsberg even composed a lament on his neglect. this he loved to hear sung to the accompaniment of the harp as he swilled down his red wine. the cruel markgraf kasimir met a miserable death not long after from dysentery, whilst cardinal matthaus lang, the archbishop of salzburg, ended his days insane. of the fate of other prominent men connected with the events described, we have spoken in the course of the narrative. the castles and religious houses, which were destroyed, as already said, to the number of many hundreds, were in most cases not built up again. the ruins of not a few of them are visible to this day. their owners often spent the sums relentlessly wrung out of the "common man" as indemnity in the extravagances of a gay life in the free towns or in dancing attendance at the courts of the princes and the higher nobles. the collapse of the revolt was indeed an important link in the particular chain of events that was so rapidly destroying the independent existence of the lower nobility as a separate status with a definite political position, and transforming the face of society generally. life in the smaller castle, the knight's _burg_ or tower, was already tending to become an anachronism. the court of the prince, lay or ecclesiastic, was attracting to itself all the elements of nobility below it in the social hierarchy. the revolt of gave a further edge to this development, the first act of which closed with the collapse of the knights' rebellion and death of sickingen in . the knight was becoming superfluous in the economy of the body politic. the rise of capitalism, the sudden development of the world-market, the substitution of a money medium of exchange for direct barter--all these new factors were doing their work. obviously the great gainers by the events of the momentous year were the representatives of the centralizing principle. but the effective centralizing principle was not represented by the emperor, for he stood for what was after all largely a sham centralism, because it was a centralism on a scale for which the germanic world was not ripe. princes and margraves were destined to be bearers of the _territorial_ centralization, the only real one to which the german peoples were to attain for a long time to come. accordingly, just as the provincial _grand seigneur_ of france became the courtier of the king at paris or versailles, so the previously quasi-independent german knight or baron became the courtier or hanger-on of the prince within or near whose territory his hereditary manor was situate. the eventful year was truly a landmark in german history in many ways--the year of one of the most accredited exploits of doctor faustus, the last mythical hero the progressive races have created; the year in which martin luther, the ex-monk, capped his repudiation of catholicism and all its ways by marrying an ex-nun; the year of the definite victory of charles v. the german emperor, over francis i. the french king, which meant the final assertion of the "holy roman empire" as being a national german institution; and last, but not least, the year of the greatest and the most widespread popular movement central europe had yet seen, and the last of the mediæval peasant risings on a large scale. the movement of the eventful year did not, however, as many hoped and many feared, within any short time rise up again from its ashes, after discomfiture had overtaken it. in , it is true, the genius of gaismayr succeeded in resuscitating it, not without prospect of ultimate success, in the tyrol and other of the austrian territories. in this year, moreover, in other outlying districts, even outside german-speaking populations, the movement flickered. thus the traveller between the town of bellinzona, in the swiss canton of ticino, and the bernardino pass, in canton graubünden, may see to-day an imposing ruin, situated on an eminence in the narrow valley just above the small italian-speaking town of misox. this was one of the ancestral strongholds of the family, well known in italian history, of the trefuzios or trevulzir, and was sacked by the inhabitants of misox and the neighbouring peasants in the summer of , contemporaneously with gaismayr's rising in the tyrol. a connection between the two events would be difficult to trace, but the destruction of the castle of misox, if not a purely spontaneous local effervescence, looks like an afterglow of the great movement, such as may well have happened in other secluded mountain valleys. the peasants' war in germany we have been considering is the last great mediæval uprising of the agrarian classes in europe. its result was, with some few exceptions, a riveting of the peasant's chains and an increase of his burdens. more than , castles and religious houses were destroyed in germany alone during . many priceless works of mediæval art of all kinds perished. but we must not allow our regret at such vandalism to blind us in any way to the intrinsic righteousness of the popular demands. the elements of revolution now became absorbed by the anabaptist movement, a continuation primarily in the religious sphere of the doctrines of the zwickau enthusiasts and also in many respects of thomas münzer. at first northern switzerland, especially the towns of basel and zürich, were the headquarters of the new sect, which, however, spread rapidly on all sides. persecution of the direst description did not destroy it. on the contrary, it seemed only to have the effect of evoking those social and revolutionary elements latent within it which were at first overshadowed by more purely theological interests. as it was, the hopes and aspirations of the "common man" revived this time in a form indissolubly associated with the theocratic commonwealth, the most prominent representative of which during the earlier movement had been thomas münzer. but, notwithstanding resemblances, it is utterly incorrect, as has sometimes been done, to describe any of the leaders of the great peasant rebellion of as anabaptists. the anabaptist sect, it is true, originated in switzerland during the rising, but it was then confined to a small coterie of unknown enthusiasts, holding semi-private meetings in zürich. it was from these small beginnings that the great anabaptist movement of ten years later arose. it is directly from them that the anabaptist movement of history dates its origin. movements of a similar character, possessing a strong family likeness, belong to the mental atmosphere of the time in germany. the so-called zwickau prophets, for example, nicholas storch and his colleagues, seem in their general attitude to have approached very closely to the principles of the anabaptist sectaries. but even here it is incorrect to regard them, as has often been done, as directly connected with the latter; still more as themselves the germ of the anabaptist party of the following years. thomas münzer, the only leader of the movement of who seems to have been acquainted with the zürich enthusiasts, was by no means at one with them on many points, notably refusing to attach any importance to their special sign, rebaptism. chief among the zürich coterie may be mentioned konrad grebel, at whose house the sect first of all assembled. at first the anabaptist movement at zürich was regarded as an extreme wing of the party of the church reformer, zwingli, in that city, but it was not long before it broke off entirely from the latter, and hostilities, ensuing in persecution for the new party, broke out. to understand the true inwardness of the anabaptist and similar movements, it is necessary to endeavour to think oneself back into the intellectual conditions of the period. the biblical text itself, now everywhere read and re-read in the german language, was pondered and discussed in the house of the handicraftsman and in the hut of the peasant, with as much confidence of interpretation as in the study of the professional theologian. but there were also not a few of the latter order, as we have seen, who were becoming disgusted with the trend of the official reformation and its leading representatives. the bible thus afforded a _point d'appui_ for the mystical tendencies now becoming universally prominent--a _point d'appui_ lacking to the earlier movements of the same kind that were so constantly arising during the middle ages proper. seen in the dim religious light of a continuous reading of the bible and of very little else, the world began to appear in a new aspect to the simple soul who practised it. all things seemed filled with the immediate presence of deity. he who felt a call pictured himself as playing the part of the hebrew prophet. he gathered together a small congregation of followers, who felt themselves as the children of god in the midst of a heathen world. did not the fall of the old church mean that the day was at hand when the elect should govern the world? it was not so much positive doctrines as an attitude of mind that was the ruling spirit in anabaptism and like movements. similarly, it was undoubtedly such a sensitive impressionism rather than any positive dogma that dominated the first generation of the christian church itself. how this acted in the case of the earlier anabaptists we shall presently see. the new zürich sect, by one of those seemingly inscrutable chances in similar cases of which history is full, not only prospered greatly but went forth conquering and to conquer. it spread rapidly northward, eastward, and westward. in the course of its victorious career it absorbed into itself all similar tendencies and local groups and movements having like aims to itself. as was natural under such circumstances, we find many different strains in the developed anabaptist movement. the theologian bullinger wrote a book on the subject, in which he enumerates thirteen distinct sects, as he terms them, in the anabaptist body. the general tenets of the organization, as given by bullinger, may be summarized as follows: they regard themselves as the true church of christ well pleasing to god; they believe that by rebaptism a man is received into the church; they refuse to hold intercourse with other churches or to recognize their ministers; they say that the preachings of these are different from their works, that no man is the better for their preaching, that their ministers follow not the teaching of paul, that they take payment from their benefices, but do not work by their hands; that the sacraments are improperly served, and that every man, who feels the call, has the right to preach; they maintain that the literal text of the scriptures shall be accepted without comment or the additions of theologians; they protest against the lutheran doctrine of justification by faith alone; they maintain that true christian love makes it inconsistent for any christian to be rich, but that among the brethren all things should be in common, or, at least, all available for the assistance of needy brethren and for the common cause; that the attitude of the christian towards authority should be that of submission and endurance only; that no christian ought to take office of any kind, or to take part in any form of military service; that secular authority has no concern with religious belief; that the christian resists no evil and therefore needs no law courts nor should ever make use of their tribunals; that christians do not kill or punish with imprisonment or the sword, but only with exclusion from the body of believers; that no man should be compelled by force to believe, nor should any be slain on account of his faith; that infant baptism is sinful and that adult baptism is the only christian baptism--baptism being a sacrament which should be reserved for the elect alone. such seem to represent the doctrines forming the common ground of the anabaptist groups as they existed at the end of the second decade of the fifteenth century. there were, however, as heinrich bullinger and his contemporary, sebastian franck, point out, numerous divergencies between the various sections of the party. many of these recalled other mediæval heretic sects, e.g. the cathari, the brothers and sisters of the spirit, the bohemian brethren, etc. for the first few years of its existence anabaptism remained true to its original theologico-ethical principles. the doctrine of non-resistance was strictly adhered to. the brethren believed in themselves as the elect, and that they had only to wait in prayer and humility for the "advent of christ and his saints," the "restitution of all things," the "establishment of the kingdom of god upon earth," or by whatever other phrase the dominant idea of the coming change was expressed. during the earlier years of the movement the anabaptists were peaceable and harmless fanatics and visionaries. in some cases, as in moravia, they formed separate communities of their own, some of which survived as religious sects long after the extinction of the main movement. in the earlier years of the fourth decade of the century, however, a change came over a considerable section of the movement. in central and south-eastern germany, notably in the moravian territories, barring isolated individuals here and there, the anabaptist party continued to maintain its attitude of non-resistance and the voluntariness of association which characterized it at first. the fearful waves of persecution, however, which successively swept over it were successful at last in partially checking its progress. at length the only places in this part of the empire where it succeeded in retaining any effective organization was in the moravian territories, where persecution was less strong and the communities more closely knit together than elsewhere. otherwise persecution had played sad havoc with the original anabaptist groups throughout central europe. meanwhile a movement had sprung up in western and northern germany, following the course of the rhine valley, that effectually threw the older movement of southern and eastern germany into the background. these earlier movements remained essentially religious and theological, owing, as cornelius points out (_münsterische aufruhr_, vol. ii. p. ), to the fact that they came immediately after the overthrow of the great political movement of . but although the older anabaptism did not itself take political shape, it succeeded in keeping alive the tendencies and the enthusiasm out of which, under favourable circumstances, a political movement inevitably grows. the result was, as cornelius further observes, an agitation of such a sweeping character that the fourth decade of the sixteenth century seemed destined to realize the ideals which the third decade had striven for in vain. the new direction in anabaptism began in the rich and powerful imperial city of strassburg, where peculiar circumstances afforded the brethren a considerable amount of toleration. it was in the year that anabaptism first made its appearance in strassburg. it was anabaptism of the original type and conducted on the old theologico-ethical lines. but early in the year there arrived in strassburg a much-travelled man, a skinner by trade, by name melchior hoffmann. he had been an enthusiastic adherent of the reformation, and it was not long before he joined the strassburg anabaptists and made his mark in their community. owing to his personal magnetism and oratorical gifts, melchior soon came to be regarded as a specially ordained prophet and to have acquired corresponding influence. after a few months hoffmann seems to have left strassburg for a propagandist tour along the rhine. the tour, apparently, had great success, the baptist communities being founded in all important towns as far as holland, in which latter country the doctrines spread rapidly. the anabaptism, however, taught by melchior and his disciples did not include the precept of patient submission to wrong which was such a prominent characteristic of its earlier phase. some time after his reception into the anabaptist body at strassburg, hoffmann, while in most other points accepting the prevalent doctrines of the brethren, broke entirely loose from the doctrine of non-resistance, maintaining, in theory at least, the right of the elect to employ the sword against the worldly authorities, "the godless," "the enemies of the saints." it was predicted, he maintained, that a two-edged sword should be given into the hands of the saints to destroy the "mystery of iniquity," the existing principalities and powers, and the time was now at hand when this prophecy should be fulfilled. the new movement in the north-west, in the lower rhenish districts, and the adjacent westphalia sprang up and extended itself, therefore, under the domination of this idea of the reign of the saints in the approaching millennium and of the notion that passive non-resistance, whilst for the time being a duty, only remained so until the coming of the lord should give the signal for the saints to rise and join in the destruction of the kingdoms of this world and the inauguration of the kingdom of god on earth. hoffmann's whole learning seems to have been limited to the bible, but this he knew from cover to cover. a diffusion of luther's translation of the bible had produced a revolution. the poorer classes, who were able to read at all, pored over the bible, together with such popular tracts or pamphlets commenting thereon, or treating current social questions in the light of biblical story and teaching, as came into their hands. the followers of the new movement in question acquired the name of melchiorites. hoffmann now published a book explanatory of his ideas, called _the ordinance of god_, which had an enormous popularity. it was followed up by other writings, amplifying and defending the main thesis it contained. outwardly the melchiorite communities of the north-west had the same peaceful character as those of south germany and moravia, holding as they did in the main the same doctrines. it was ominous, however, that melchior hoffmann was proclaimed as the prophet elijah returned according to promise. up to strassburg continued to be regarded as the chief seat of anabaptism, especially by melchior and his disciples. it was, they declared, to be the new jerusalem, from which the saints should march out to conquer the world. melchior, on his return journey to strassburg from his journey northwards, proclaimed the end of as the date of the second advent and the inauguration of the reign of the saints. owing to the excitement among the poorer population of the town consequent upon hoffmann's preaching, the prophet was arrested and imprisoned in one of the towers of the city wall. but came and went without the lord or his saints appearing, while poor hoffmann remained confined in the tower of the city wall. meanwhile the new anabaptism spread and fermented along the rhine, and especially in holland. in the latter country its chief exponent was a master baker at harleem, by name jan matthys, who seems to have been a born leader of men. while preaching essentially the same doctrines as hoffmann, with matthys a holy war, in a literal sense, was placed in the forefront of his teaching. with him there was to be no delay. it was the duty of all the brethren to show their zeal by at once seizing the sword of sharpness and mowing down the godless therewith. in this sense matthys completed the transformation begun by hoffmann. melchior had indeed rejected the non-resistance doctrine in its absolute form, but he does not appear in his teaching to have uniformly emphasized the point, and certainly did not urge the destruction of the godless as an immediate duty to be fulfilled without delay. with him was always the suggestion, expressed or implied, of waiting for the signal from heaven, the coming of the lord, before proceeding to action. with matthys there was no need for waiting, even for a day; the time was not merely at hand, it had already come. his influence among the brethren was immense. if melchior hoffmann had been elijah, jan matthys was elisha, who should bring his work to a conclusion. among matthys' most intimate followers was jan bockelson, from leyden. bockelson was a handsome and striking figure. he was the illegitimate son of one bockel, a merchant and bürgermeister of saevenhagen, by a peasant woman from the neighbourhood of münster, who was in his service. after jan's birth bockel married the woman and bought her her freedom from the villein status that was hers by heredity. jan was taught the tailoring handicraft at leyden, but seems to have received little schooling. his natural abilities, however, were considerable, and he eagerly devoured the religious and propagandist literature of the time. amongst other writings the pamphlets of thomas münzer especially fascinated him. he travelled a good deal, visiting mechlin and working at his trade for four years in london. returning home, he threw himself into the anabaptist agitation, and, scarcely twenty-five years old, he was won over to the doctrines of jan matthys. the latter with his younger colleague welded the anabaptist communities in holland and the adjacent german territories into a well-organized federation. they were more homogeneous in theory than those of southern and eastern germany, being practically all united on the basis of the hoffmann-matthys propaganda. the episcopal town of münster, in westphalia, like other places in the third decade of the sixteenth century, became strongly affected by the reformation. but that the ferment of the time was by no means wholly the outcome of religious zeal, as subsequent historians have persisted in representing it, was recognized by the contemporary heads of the official reformation. thus, writing to luther under date august , , his satellite, melanchthon, has the candour to admit that the imperial cities "care not for religion, for their endeavour is only toward domination and freedom." as the principal town of westphalia at this time may be reckoned the chief city of the bishopric of münster, this important ecclesiastical principality was held "immediately of the empire." it had as its neighbours ost-friesland, oldenburg, the bishopric of osnabrück, the county of marck, and the duchies of berg and cleves. its territory was half the size of the present province of westphalia, and was divided into the upper and lower diocese, which were separated by the territory of fecklenburg. the bishop was a prince of the empire and one of the most important magnates of north-western germany, but in ecclesiastical matters he was under the archbishop of köln. the diocese had been founded by charles the great. owing to a succession of events, beginning in , which for those interested we may mention may be found discussed in full detail in _the rise and fall of the anabaptists_ ( - ), by the present writer, the extreme wing of the reformation party had early gained the upper hand in the city, and subsequently became fused with the native anabaptists, who were soon reinforced by their co-religionists from the country round, as well as from the not far distant holland; for it should be said that the dutch followers of hoffmann and matthys had been energetic in carrying their faith into the towns of westphalia as elsewhere. without entering in detail into the events leading up to it, it is sufficient for our purpose to state that by a perfectly lawful election, held on february , , the government of münster was reconstituted and the anabaptists obtained supreme political power. hearing of the way things were going in münster, matthys and his followers had already taken up their abode in the city a little time before. the cathedral and other churches were stormed and sacked during the following days, while all official documents and charters dealing with the feudal relations of the town were given to the flames during the ensuing month. both the moderate protestant (lutheran) and the catholic burghers who had remained were indignant at the acts of destruction committed, and openly expressed their opposition. the result was their expulsion from the city; the condition of being allowed to remain became now the consent to rebaptism and the formal adoption of anabaptist principles. münster now took the place strassburg had previously held as the rallying point of the anabaptist faithful, whence a crusade against the powers of the world was to issue forth. the government of münster, though it officially consisted of the two bürgermeisters and the new council, to a man all zealous anabaptists, left the real power and initiative in all measures in the hands of jan matthys and of his disciple, jan bockelson, of leyden. the reign of the saints was now fairly begun. various attempts at an organized communism were made, but these appear to have been only partially successful. one day jan matthys with twenty companions, in an access of fanatical devotion, made a sortie from the town towards the bishop's camp. needless to say, the party were all killed. the great leader dead, jan bockelson became naturally the chief of the city and head of the movement. bockelson proved in every way a capable successor to matthys. a new constitution was now given by bockelson and the dutchmen, acting as his prophets and preachers. it was embodied in thirty-nine articles, and one of its chief features was the transference of power to twelve elders, the number being suggested by the twelve tribes of israel. the idea of reliving the life of the "chosen people," as depicted in the old testament, showed itself in various ways, amongst others by the notorious edict establishing polygamy. this measure, however, as karl kautsky has shown, there is good reason for thinking was probably induced by the economic necessity of the time, and especially by the enormous excess of the female over the male population of the city. otherwise the münsterites, like the anabaptists generally, gave evidence of favouring asceticism in sexual matters. considerations of space prevent us from going into further detail of the inner life of münster under the anabaptist regime during the siege at the hands of its overlord, the prince-bishop. this will be found given at length in the work already mentioned. as time went on famine began to attack the city. it is sufficient for our purpose to state that on the night of june , , the city was betrayed and that in a few hours the free-lances of the bishop were streaming in through all the gates. the street fighting was desperate; the anabaptists showed a desperate courage, even women joining in the struggle, hurling missiles from the windows upon their foes beneath. by midday on the th the city of münster, the new zion, passed over once more into the power of its feudal lord, franz von waldeck, and the reign of the saints had come to an end. the vengeance of the conquerors was terrible; all alike, irrespective of age or sex, were involved in an indiscriminate butchery. the three leaders, bockelson, krechting, and knipperdollinck, after being carried round captives as an exhibition through the surrounding country, were, some months afterwards, on january , , executed, after being most horribly tortured. their bodies were subsequently suspended in three cages from the top of the tower of the lamberti church. the three cages were left undisturbed until a few years ago, when the old tower, having become structurally unsafe, was pulled down and replaced, with questionable taste, by an ordinary modern steeple, on which, however, the original cages may still be seen. a papal legate, sent on a mission to münster shortly after the events in question, relates that as he and his retinue neared the latter town "more and more gibbets and wheels did we see on the highways and in the villages, where the false prophets and anabaptists had suffered for their sins." the münster incident was the culmination of the anabaptist movement. after the catastrophe the militant section rapidly declined. it did not die out, however, until towards the end of the century. the last we hear of it was in , when a formidable insurrection took place again in westphalia, under the leadership of one wilhelmson, the son of one of the escaped anabaptist preachers of münster. the movement lasted for five years. it was finally suppressed and wilhelmson burned alive at cleves on march , . meanwhile, soon after the fall of münster, the party split asunder, a moderate section forming, which shortly after came under the leadership of menno simon. this section, which soon became the majority of the party, under the name of mennonites, settled down into a mere religious sect. in fact, towards the end of the sixteenth century the anabaptist communities on the continent of europe, from moravia on the one hand to the extreme north-west of germany on the other, showed a tendency to develop into law-abiding and prosperous religious organizations, in many cases being officially recognized by the authorities. the anabaptist revolt of the fourth decade of the sixteenth century, though it may be regarded partly as a continuation or recrudescence, showed some differences from the peasant revolt of some years previously. the peasant rebellion, which reached its zenith in , was predominantly an agrarian movement, notwithstanding that it had had its echo among the poorer classes of the towns. the anabaptist movement proper, which culminated in the münster "reign of the saints" in - , was predominantly a townsman's movement, notwithstanding that it had a considerable support from among the peasantry. the anabaptists' leaders were not, as in the case of the peasants' war, in the main drawn from the class of the "man that wields the hoe" (to paraphrase the phraseology of the time); they were tailors, smiths, bakers, shoemakers, or carpenters. they belonged, in short, to the class of the organized handicraftsmen and journeymen who worked within city walls. a prominent figure in both movements was, however, the ex-priest or teacher. the ideal, or, if you will, the utopian, element in the movement of melchior hoffmann, jan matthys, and jan bockelson--the element which expressed the social discontent of the time in the guise of its prevalent theological conceptions--now occupied the first place, while in the earlier movement it was merely sporadic. after the close of the sixteenth century anabaptism lost all political importance on the continent of europe. it had, however, a certain afterglow in this country during the following century, which lasted over the times of the civil war and the commonwealth, and may be traced in the movements of the "levellers," the "fifth monarchy men," and even among the earlier quakers. footnotes: [ ] those interested will find the events briefly sketched in the present chapter exhaustively treated, with full elaboration of detail, in the two previous volumes of mine, _the peasant's war in germany_ and _the rise and fall of the anabaptists_ (messrs. george allen & unwin). [ ] amongst the curiosities of literature may be included the translation of the title of this manifesto by prof. t.m. lindsay, d.d., in the _encyclopædia britannica_, th edition (article, "luther"). the german title is "wider die morderischen und rauberischen rotten der bauern." prof. lindsay's translation is "_against the murdering, robbing rats [sic] of peasants_"! chapter ix post-mediÆval germany we have in the preceding chapters sought to give a general view of the social life, together with the inner political and economic movements, of germany during that closing period of the middle ages which is generally known as the era of the reformation. with the definite establishment of the reformation and of the new political and economic conditions that came with it in many of the rising states of germany, the middle ages may be considered as definitely coming to an end, notwithstanding that, of course, a considerable body of mediæval conditions of social, political, and economic life continued to survive all over europe, and certainly not least in germany. we have now to take a general and, so to say, panoramic view embracing three centuries and a half, dating from approximately the middle of the sixteenth century to the present time. our presentation, owing to exigencies of space, will necessarily take the form of a mere sketch of events and general tendencies, but a sketch that will, we hope, be sufficient to connect periods and to enable the reader to understand better than before the forces that have built up modern germany and have moulded the national character. in this long period of more than three centuries there are two world-historic events, or rather series of events, which stand out in bold relief as the causes which have moulded germany directly, and the whole of europe indirectly, up to the present day. these two epoch-making historical factors are ( ) the thirty years' war and ( ) the rise of the prussian monarchy. owing to the success of protestantism, with its two forms of lutheranism and calvinism in various german territories, the friction became chronic between catholic and protestant interests throughout the length and breadth of central europe. the emperor himself was chosen, as we know, by three ecclesiastical electors, the archbishops of köln, trier, and mainz, and by four princes, the pfalzgraf, called in english the elector palatine, the markgraves of saxony and brandenburg, and the king of bohemia. the princes and other potentates, owing immediate allegiance to the empire alone, were practically independent sovereigns. the reichstag, instituted in the fifteenth century, attendance at which was strictly limited to these immediate vassals of the empire, had proved of little effect. this was shown when in the middle of the sixteenth century protestantism had established itself in the favour of the mass of the german peoples. it was vetoed by the reichstag, with its powerful contingent of ecclesiastical members. of course here the economic side of the question played a great part. the ecclesiastical potentates and those favourable to them dreaded the spread of protestantism in view of the secularization of religious domains and fiefs. this, notwithstanding that there were not wanting bishops and abbots themselves who were not indisposed, as princes of the empire, to appropriate the church lands, of which they were the trustees, for their own personal possessions. after a short civil war an arrangement was come to at the treaty of passau in , which was in the main ratified by the reichstag held at augsburg in (the so-called peace of augsburg); but the arrangement was artificial and proved itself untenable as a permanent instrument of peace. during the latter part of the sixteenth century two magnates of the empire, the duke of bavaria on the catholic side and the calvinist, christian of anhalt, on the protestant, played the chief rôle, the lutheran markgrave of saxony taking up a moderate position as mediator. of the reichstag of augsburg it should be said that it had ignored the calvinist section of the protestant party altogether, only recognizing the lutheran. in the protestant union, which embraced lutherans and calvinists alike, was founded under the leadership of christian of anhalt. it was most powerful in southern germany. this was countered immediately by the foundation under maximilian, duke of bavaria, of a catholic league. the friction, which was now becoming acute, went on increasing till the actual outbreak of the thirty years' war in . the signal for the latter was given by the bohemian revolution in the spring of that year. the thirty years' war, as it is termed, which was really a series of wars, naturally falls into five distinct periods, each representing in many respects a separate war in itself. the first two years of the war ( - ) is occupied with the bohemian revolt against the attempt of the emperor to force catholicism upon the bohemian people and with its immediate consequences. it was accentuated by the attempt of the emperor matthias to compel them to accept the archduke ferdinand as king. this attempt was countered through the election by the bohemians of the pfalzgraf, friedrich v (the son-in-law of james i of england), who was called the winter king from the fact that his reign lasted only during the winter months; for though the protestant union, led by count thurn, had won several victories in and even threatened vienna, the austrian power was saved by tilly and the catholic league which came to its rescue. many of the protestant states, moreover, were averse to the palatine friedrich's acceptance of the bohemian crown. the bohemian movement was ultimately crushed by a force sent from spain, under the spanish general spinola. the final defeat took place at the battle of the white hill, near prague, november , . the second period of the war was concerned with the attempt of the catholic powers to deprive friedrich of his palatine dominions. here count mansfeld, with his mercenary army of free-lances, aided by christian of brunswick and others on the side of friedrich and the protestants, defeated tilly in . but later on tilly and the imperialists by a series of victories conquered the palatinate, which was bestowed upon maximilian of bavaria. mansfeld, notwithstanding that he had some successes later in the year , could not effectually redeem the situation, brunswick's army being entirely routed by tilly in the following year at the battle of stadtlohn, which virtually ended this particular campaign. the third period of the war, from to , is characterized by the intervention of the powers outside the immediate sphere of german or imperial interests. france, under richelieu, became concerned at the growing power of the hapsburgs, while james i of england began to show anxiety at his son-in-law's adverse fortunes, though without achieving any successful intervention. the chief feature of this campaign was the entry into the field of christian iv of denmark with a powerful army to join mansfeld and christian of brunswick in invading the imperial and austrian territories. but the savageries and excesses of mansfeld's troops had disgusted and alienated all sides. it was at this time that wallenstein, duke of friedland, was appointed general of the imperial troops, and soon after succeeded in completely routing mansfeld at the battle of dessau bridge in . four months later tilly completely defeated christian iv and his danes at lutter. wallenstein, on his side, followed up his success, driving mansfeld into hungary. mansfeld, in spite of some fugitive successes in the austrian dominions in the course of his retreat, was compelled by wallenstein to evacuate hungary, shortly after which he died. the campaign ended with the peace of lubeck in . the action of the emperor ferdinand in attempting to enforce the restitution of church lands in north germany was the proximate cause of the next great campaign, which constitutes the fourth period of the thirty years' war ( - ). the immediate occasion was, however, wallenstein's seizure of certain towns in mecklenburg, over which he claimed rights by imperial grant two years before. this, which may be regarded as the greatest period of the thirty years' war, was characterized by the appearance on the scene of gustavus adolphus, the swedish king. he was not in time, however, to prevent the sacking of magdeburg by the troops of tilly and poppenheim. the former, nevertheless, was defeated by the swedes at the important battle of breitenfeld in . the following year the imperial army was again defeated on the lach. thereupon gustavus occupied münchen, though he was subsequently compelled by wallenstein to evacuate the city. the last great victory of gustavus was at lützen in , at which battle the great leader met his death. wallenstein, who was now in favour of a policy of peace and political reconstruction, was assassinated in with the connivance of the emperor. on september th of the same year the protestant army, under bernhard of saxe-weimar, sustained an overwhelming defeat at nördlingen, and the peace of prague the following year ended the campaign. the fifth period, from to , has, as its central interest, the active intervention of france in the central european struggle. the swedes, notwithstanding the death of their king, continued to have some notable successes, and even approached to within striking distance of vienna. but richelieu now became the chief arbiter of events. the french generals condé and turenne invaded germany and the netherlands. victories were won by the new armies at rocroi, thionville, and at nördlingen, but vienna was not captured. the imperial troops were, however, again defeated at zumarshauen by condé, who also repelled an attempted diversion in the shape of a spanish invasion of france at the battle of lens in the spring of . the thirty years' war was finally ended in october of the same year at münster, by the celebrated treaty of westphalia. the above is a skeleton sketch in a few words of the chief features of that long and complicated series of diplomatic and military events known to history as the thirty years' war.[ ] the thirty years' war had far-reaching and untold consequences on germany itself and indirectly on the course of modern civilization generally. for close upon a generation central europe had been ravaged from end to end by hostile and plundering armies. rapine and destruction were, for near upon a third of the century, the common lot of the germanic peoples from north to south and from east to west. populations were as helpless as sheep before the brutal, criminal soldiery, recruited in many cases from the worst elements of every european country. the excesses of mansfeld's mercenary army in the earlier stages of the war created widespread horror. but the defeat and death of mansfeld brought no alleviation. the troops of wallenstein proved no better in this respect than those of mansfeld. on the contrary, with every year the war went on its horrors increased, while every trace of principle in the struggle fell more and more into the background. everywhere was ruin. the population became by the time the war had ended a mere fraction of what it was at the opening of the seventeenth century. some idea of the state of things may be gathered from the instance of augsburg, which during its siege by the imperialists was reduced from , to , inhabitants. what happened to the great commercial city of the fuggers was taking place on a scale greater or less, according to the district, all over german territory. we read of towns and villages that were pillaged more than a dozen times in a year. this terrific depopulation of the country, the reader may well understand, had vast results on its civilization. the whole great structure of mediæval and renaissance germany--its literature, art, and social life--was in ruins. at the close of the seventeenth century the old german culture had gone and the new had not yet arisen. but of this we shall have more to say in the next chapter. for the present we are chiefly concerned to give a brief sketch of the second great epoch-making event, or rather train of events, which conditioned the foundation and development of modern germany. we refer, of course, to the rise of the prussian monarchy. we should premise that the prussians are the least german of all the populations of what constitutes modern germany. they are more than half slavs. in the early middle ages the mark of brandenburg, the centre and chief province of the modern prussian state, was an outlying offshoot of the mediæval holy roman empire of the german nation, surrounded by barbaric tribes, slav and teuton. the chief slav people were the borussians, from which the name "prussian" was a corruption. the first outstanding historic fact concerning these baltic lands is that a certain adalbert, bishop of prague, at the end of the tenth century went north on a mission of enterprise for converting the prussian heathen. the neighbouring christian prince, the duke of poland, who had presumably suffered much from incursions of these pagan slavs, offered him every encouragement. the adventure ended, however, before long in the death of adalbert at the hands of these same pagan slavs. the first indication of the existence of a mark of brandenburg with its markgraves is in the eleventh century. there is, however, little definite historical information concerning them. the first of these markgraves to attract attention was albrecht the bear, one of the so-called ascanian line, the family hailing from the harz mountains. albrecht was a remarkable man for his time in every way. under him the markgravate of brandenburg was raised to be an electorate of the empire. the markgrave thus became a prince of the empire. it was albrecht the bear who first introduced a limited measure of peace and order into the hitherto anarchic condition of the mark and its adjacent territories. the ascanian line continued till , and was followed by a period of political anarchy and disturbance, until finally friedrich, count of hohenzollern, acquired the electorate, and became known as the elector friedrich i. meanwhile the order of the teutonic knights, who earlier began their famous crusade against the borussian heathens, had established themselves on the territories now known as east and west prussia. in spite of this fact and of the for long time dominant power of their polish neighbours, the hohenzollern rulers continued to acquire increased power and fresh territories. at the reformation albrecht, a scion of the hohenzollern family, who had been elected grand master of the teutonic order, adopted protestantism and assumed the title of duke of prussia. finally, in , the then elector of brandenburg, john sigismund, through his marriage with ann, daughter and heiress of albrecht friedrich, duke of prussia, came into possession of the whole of prussia proper, together with other adjacent territories. the prussian lands suffered much through the thirty years' war during the reign of john sigismund's successor, george wilhelm. but the latter's son, friedrich wilhelm, the so-called great elector, succeeded by his ability in repairing the ravages the war had made and raising the electorate immensely in political importance. he left at his death, in , the financial condition of the country in a sound state, with an effective army of , men. friedrich i, who followed him, held matters together and got prussia promoted to the rank of a kingdom in . his son, friedrich wilhelm i, by rigid economies succeeded in raising the financial condition of the kingdom to a still higher level. the military power of the monarchy he also developed considerably, and is famous in history for his mania for tall soldiers. we now come to the real founder of the prussian monarchy as a great european power, friedrich wilhelm i's son, who succeeded his father in as friedrich ii, and who is known to history as friedrich the great. friedrich no sooner came to the throne than he started on an aggressive expansionist policy for prussia. the opportunity presented itself a few months after his accession by the dispute as to the pragmatic sanction and maria theresa's right to the throne of austria. in the two wars which immediately followed, the prussian army overran the whole of silesia, and the peace of left the prussian king in possession of the entire country. east friesland had already been absorbed the year before on the death of the last duke without issue. in spite of the exhaustion of men and money in the two silesian wars, friedrich found himself ready with both men and money eleven years later, in , to embark upon what is known as the seven years' war. though without acquiring fresh territory by this war, the gain in prestige was so great that the prussian monarchy virtually assumed the hegemony of north germany, becoming the rival of austria for the domination of central europe, the position in which it remained for more than a century afterwards. nevertheless, after this succession of wars the condition of the country was deplorable. it was obvious that the first thing to do was the work of internal resuscitation. the extraordinary ability and energy of the king saved the internal situation. agriculture, industry, and commerce were re-established and reorganized. it was now that the cast-iron system of bureaucratic administration, where not actually created, was placed on a firm foundation. but in external affairs prussia continued to earn its character as the robber state of europe _par excellence_. in friedrich joined with austria in the first partition of poland, acquiring the whole of west prussia as his share. a few years later friedrich formed an anti-austrian league of german princes, under prussian leadership, which was the first overt sign of the conflict for supremacy in germany between prussia and austria, which lasted for wellnigh a century. by the time of his death--august , --friedrich had increased prussian territory to nearly , square miles and between five and six millions of population. under friedrich's nephew, friedrich wilhelm ii, while the rigour of bureaucratic administration, controlled by a monarchical absolutism, continued and was even accentuated, the absence of the able hand of friedrich the great soon made itself apparent. as regards external policy, however, prussia, while allowing territories on the left bank of the rhine to go to france, eagerly saw to the increase of her own dominions in the east to the extent of nearly doubling her superficial area by her participation in the second and third partitions of poland, which took place in and respectively. these external successes, or rather acts of spoliation, were, notwithstanding, counter-balanced at home by a degeneracy alike of the civil bureaucracy and of the army. the country internally, both as regards morale and effectiveness, had sunk far below its level under friedrich the great. this showed itself during the great napoleonic wars, when prussia had to undergo more than one humiliation at the hands of buonaparte, culminating in october with the collapse of the prussian armies at jena and auerstädt. the entry of napoleon in triumph into berlin followed. at the peace of tilsit, in , friedrich-wilhelm had to sign away half his kingdom and to consent to the payment of a heavy war indemnity, pending which the french troops occupied the most important fortresses in the country. following upon this moment of deepest national humiliation comes the period of the ministers stein and hardenberg, of the enthusiastic adjurations to patriotism of fischer and others, and of the activity of the "league of virtue" (_tugendbund_). it is difficult to understand the enthusiasm that could be aroused for the rehabilitation of an absolutist, bureaucratic, and militarist state, such as prussia was--a state in which civil and political liberty was conspicuous by its absence. but the fact undoubtedly remains that the men in question did succeed in pumping up a strong patriotic feeling and desire to free the country from the yoke of the foreigner, even if that only meant increased domestic tyranny. it must be admitted, however, that as a matter of fact not inconsiderable internal reforms were owing to the leading men of this time. stein abolished serfdom, and in some respects did away with the legal distinction of classes, thereby paving the way for the rise of the middle class, which at that time meant a progressive step. he also conferred rights of self-government upon municipalities. hardenberg inaugurated measures intended to ameliorate the condition of the peasants, while wilhelm von humboldt established the thorough if somewhat mechanical education system which was subsequently extended throughout germany. he also helped to found the university of berlin in . but at the same time the curse of prussia--militarism--was riveted on the people through the reorganization of the prussian army by those two able military bureaucrats, scharnhorst and gneisenau. in prussia concluded at kalicsh an alliance with russia, which austria joined. in the war which followed prussia was severely strained by losses in men and money. but at the congress of vienna the prussian kingdom received back nearly, but not quite, all it lost in . the acquirement, however, of new and valuable territories in westphalia and along the rhine, besides thuringia and the province of saxony, more than compensated for the loss of certain slav districts in the east, as thereby the way was prepared for the ultimate despotism of the prussian king over all germany. the success of prussian diplomacy in enslaving these erstwhile independent german lands in was crucial for the subsequent direction of prussian policy. it is time now to return once more to the internal conditions in the prussian state now dominant over a large part of northern germany. a constitution had been more than once talked of, but the despotism with its bureaucratic machinery had remained. now, after the conclusion of the napoleonic wars and the re-drawing of the prussian frontier lines by the peace of , the matter assumed an urgency it had not had before. following upon proclamations and promises, a patent was addressed to the new saxon provinces granting a national _landtag_, or diet, for the whole country. the drawing up of the constitution thus proclaimed in principle gave rise to heated conflicts. there was, as yet, no proletariat proper in prussia, and for that matter hardly any in the rest of germany. the handicraft system of production, and even the mediæval guild system, slightly modified, prevailed throughout the country. the middle class proper was small and unimportant, and hence liberalism, the theoretical expression of that class, only found articulate utterance through men of the professions. the new prussian territories in the west were largely tinctured with progressive ideas originating in the french revolution, while the east was dominated by reactionary feudal landowners, the notorious junker class--a class special to east prussian territories, including the eastern portion of the mark of brandenburg--whom the moderate conservative minister stein himself characterized as "heartless, wooden, half-educated people, only good to turn into corporals or calculating-machines." this class then, as ever since, opposed an increase of popular control and the progress of free institutions with might and main. friction arose between the government and liberal gymnastic societies and students' clubs. this culminated in the festival on the wartburg in october , when a bonfire was made of a book of police laws and uhlan stays and a corporal's stick. it was followed the next year by the assassination of the dramatist and political spy kotzebue by the student sand. panic seized the reactionists, and the austrian minister metternich, one of the chief pillars of absolutist principles in europe, induced the king to commit himself to the austrian system of repression. in the reactionary party succeeded in getting the projected constitution abandoned and the bureaucratic system of provincial estates established by royal warrant two years later ( ). the prussian police with their spies then became omnipotent, and a remorseless persecution of all holding liberal or democratic views ensued, the best-known writers on the popular side no less than the rank and file being arbitrarily arrested and kept in prison on any or no pretext. the amalgamation of the new districts into the prussian bureaucratic system was not accomplished without resistance. the rhine provinces especially, accustomed to easy-going government and light taxation under the old ecclesiastical princes, kicked vigorously against the prussian jack-boot. the discontent was so widespread indeed that some concessions had to be made, such as the retention of the code napoléon. what created most resentment, however, was the enactment of , which enforced compulsory universal military service throughout the monarchy. friedrich wilhelm also undertook to dragoon his subjects in the matter of religion, amalgamating the lutherans with other reformed bodies, under the name of the "evangelical church." in foreign politics, in the earlier part of the nineteenth century, during the napoleonic wars, prussia, as yet hardly recovered from her defeats under buonaparte, almost entirely followed the lead of austria. but perhaps the most important measure of the prussian government at this time was the foundation of the famous zollverein or customs union of various north german states in . the far-reaching character of this measure was only shown later, being, in fact, the means and basis by and on which the political and military ascendancy of prussia over all germany was assured. friedrich wilhelm iii, who died on june , , was succeeded by his son, friedrich wilhelm iv. the new reign began with an appearance of liberalism by a general amnesty for political offences. reaction, however, soon raised its head again, and friedrich wilhelm iv, in spite of his varnish of philosophical and literary tastes, was soon seen to be _au fond_ as reactionary as his predecessors. the conflict between the reaction of the government and the now widely spread liberal and democratic aspirations of the people resulted in prussia (as it did under similar circumstances in other countries) in the outbreak of the revolution of . it is necessary at this stage to take a brief survey of the political history of the germanic states of europe generally from the time of the peace of vienna, in , onwards, in order to understand fully the rôle played by the prussian monarchy in german history since ; for from this time the history of prussia becomes more and more bound up with that of the german peoples as a whole. during the napoleonic wars germany, as every one knows, was, generally speaking, in the grip of the french imperial power. to follow the vicissitudes and fluctuations of fortune throughout central europe during these years lies outside our present purpose. we are here chiefly concerned with the political development from the treaty of vienna, as signed on june , , onward. the treaty of vienna completed the work begun by napoleon--represented by the extinction of the mediæval "holy roman empire of the german nation" in --in making an end of the political configuration of the german peoples which had grown up during the middle ages and survived, in a more or less decayed condition, since the peace of westphalia, which concluded the thirty years' war. the three hundred separate states of which germany had originally consisted were now reduced to thirty-nine, a number which, by the extinction of sundry minor governing lines, was before long further reduced to thirty-five. these states constituted themselves into a new german confederation, with a federal assembly, meeting at frankfurt-on-the-main. the new federal council, or assembly, however, soon revealed itself as but the tool of the princes and a bulwark of reaction. the revolution of was throughout germany an expression of popular discontent and of democratic and even, to a large extent, of republican aspirations. the princely authorities endeavoured to stem the wave of popular indignation and revolutionary enthusiasm by recognizing a provisional self-constituted body, and sanctioning the election of a national representative parliament at frankfurt in place of the effete federal council. the archduke of austria, who was elected head of the new, hastily organized national government, was not slow to use his newly acquired power in the interests of reaction, thereby exciting the hostility of all the progressive elements in the parliament of frankfurt. when after some months it became obvious that the anti-progressive parties had gained the upper hand alike in austria and prussia, the friction between the democratic and constitutional parties became increasingly bitter. the prussian government meanwhile took advantage of the state of affairs to stir up the schleswig-holstein question, so-called, driving the danes out of schleswig, an insurrectionary movement in holstein having been already suppressed by the danish king. prussia, alarmed by the attitude of the powers, agreed to withdraw her troops from the occupied territories without consulting the frankfurt parliament, an act which involved friedrich wilhelm in conflict with the latter. the issues arising out of this dispute made it plain to every one that the parliament of all germany was impotent to enforce its decrees against one of the german powers possessed of a preponderating military strength. by the end of the revolution in vienna was completely crushed and a strongly reactionary government appointed by the new emperor. meanwhile in berlin the junkers and the reactionaries generally had already again come into power, a crisis having been caused by the attempt of the democratic section of the prussian national assembly, convened by the king in march, to reorganize the army on a popular democratic basis. we need scarcely say the prussian army has been the tool of junkerdom and reaction ever since. the last despairing attempt of the frankfurt parliament to give effect to the national germanic unity, which all patriotic germans professed to be eager for, was the offer of the imperial crown to the king of prussia. against this act, however, nearly half the members--i.e. all the advanced parties in the assembly--protested by refusing to take any part in it they had also declined to be associated with a previous motion for the exclusion of german austria from the new national unity, in the interest of prussian ascendancy. both these reactionary proposals, as we all know, at a later date became the corner-stones of the new prusso-german unity of bismark's creation. on this occasion, however, the prussian king refused to accept the office at the hands of the impotent frankfurt assembly, which latter soon afterwards broke up and eventually "petered out." meanwhile prussian troops, led by the reactionary military caste, were employed in the congenial task of suppressing popular movements with the sword in baden, saxony, and prussia itself. the two rival bulwarks of reaction, prussia and austria, were now so alarmed at the revolutionary dangers they had passed through that, for the nonce forgetting their rivalry, they cordially joined together in reviving, in the interests of the counter-revolution, the old reactionary federal assembly, which had never been formally dissolved, as it ought to have been on the election of the frankfurt parliament. reaction now went on apace. liberties were curtailed and rights gained in were abolished in most of the smaller states. henceforth the federal assembly became the theatre of the two great rival powers of the germanic confederation. both alike strove desperately for the hegemony of germany. the strength of prussia, of course, lay generally in the north, that of austria in the south. austria had the advantage of prussia in the matter of prestige. prussia, on the other hand, had the pull of austria in the possession of the machinery of the customs union. in general, however, the dual control of the germanic confederation was grudgingly recognized by either party, and on occasion they acted together. this was notably the case in the schleswig-holstein question, which had been smouldering ever since , and which came to a crisis in the danish war of , in which austria and prussia jointly took part. among the most reactionary of the junker party in the prussian parliament of was one count otto bismarck von schönhausen, subsequently known to history as prince bismarck ( - ). this man strenuously opposed the acceptance of the imperial dignity by the king of prussia at the hands of the frankfurt parliament in , on the ground that it was unworthy of the king of prussia to accept any office at the hands of the people rather than at those of his peers, the princes of germany. in count von bismarck was appointed a prussian representative in the revived princely and aristocratic federal assembly. here he energetically fought the hegemony hitherto exercised by austria. he continued some years in this capacity, and subsequently served as prussian minister in st. petersburg and again in paris. in the autumn of the new king of prussia, wilhelm i, who had succeeded to the throne the previous year, called him back to take over the portfolio of foreign affairs and the leadership of the cabinet. shortly after his accession to power he arbitrarily closed the chambers for refusing to sanction his army bill. his army scheme was then forced through by the royal fiat alone. on the reopening of the schleswig-holstein question, owing to the death of the king of denmark, german nationalist sentiment was aroused, which bismarck knew how to use for the aggrandisement of prussia. the danish war, in which the two leading german states collaborated and which ended in their favour, had as its result a disagreement of a serious nature between these rival, though mutually victorious, powers. in all these events the hand of bismarck was to be seen. he it was who dominated completely prussian policy from onwards. full of his schemes for the aggrandisement of prussia at the expense of austria, he stirred up and worked this quarrel for all it was worth, the upshot being the prusso-austrian war (the so-called seven weeks' war) of the summer of . the war was brought about by the arbitrary dissolution of the german confederation--i.e. the federal assembly--in which, owing to the alarm created by prussian insolence and aggression, austria had the backing of the majority of the states. this step was followed by bismarck's dispatching an ultimatum to hanover, saxony, and hesse cassel respectively, all of which had voted against prussia in the federal assembly, followed, on its non-acceptance, by the dispatch of prussian troops to occupy the states in question. hard on this act of brutal violence came the declaration of war with austria. at königgratz the prussian army was victorious over the austrians, and henceforth the hegemony of central europe was decided in favour of prussia. austria, under the treaty of prague (august , ), was completely excluded from the new organization of german states, in which prussia--i.e. bismarck--was to have a free hand. the result was the foundation of the north german confederation, under the leadership of prussia. it was to have a common parliament, elected by universal suffrage and meeting in berlin. the army, the diplomatic representation, the control of the postal and telegraphic services, were to be under the sole control of the prussian government. the north german confederation comprised the northern and central states of germany. the southern states--bavaria, baden, würtemberg, etc.--although not included, had been forced into a practical alliance with prussia by treaties. the customs union was extended until it embraced nearly the whole of germany. prussian aggression in luxemburg produced a crisis with france in , though the growing tension between prussia and france was tided over on this occasion. but bismarck only bided his time. the occasion was furnished him by the question of the succession to the spanish throne, in july . by means of a falsified telegram bismarck precipitated war, in which prussia was joined by all the states of germany. the subsequent course of events is matter of recent history. the establishment of the new prusso-german empire by the crowning of wilhelm i at versailles, with the empire made hereditary in the hohenzollern family, completed the work of bismarck and the setting of the prussian jack-boot on the necks of the german peoples. the prussian military and bureaucratic systems were now extended to all germany--in other words, the rest of the german peoples were made virtually the vassals and slaves of the prussian monarch. this time the king of prussia received the imperial crown at the hands of the kings, princes, and other hereditary rulers of the various german states. bismarck was graciously pleased to bestow unity and internal peace--a prussian peace--upon germany on condition of its abasement before the prussian corporal's stick and police-truncheon. such was the united germany of bismarck. germany meant for bismarck and his followers prussia, and prussia meant their own junker and military caste, under the titular headship of the hohenzollern. yet, strange to say, the peoples of germany willingly consented, under the influence of the intoxication of a successful war, to have their independence bartered away to prussia by their rulers. in this united germany of bismarck--a germany united under prussian despotism--they naïvely saw the realization of the dream of their thinkers and poets since the time of the napoleonic wars--which had become more than ever an inspiration from onwards--of an ideal unity of all german-speaking peoples as a national whole. it is unquestionable that many of these thinkers and poets would have been horrified at the prusso-bismarckian "unity" of "blood and iron," it was not for this, they would have said, that they had laboured and suffered. as a conclusion to the present chapter i venture to give a short summary of the internal, and especially of the economic, development of prussia since the franco-german war from an article which appeared in the _english review_ for december , by mr. h.m. hyndman and the present writer:-- "from onwards prussianized germany, by far the best-educated, and industrially and commercially the most progressive, country in europe, with the enormous advantage of her central position, was, consciously and unconsciously, making ready for her next advance. the policy of a good understanding with russia, maintained for many years, to such an extent that, in foreign affairs, berlin and st. petersburg were almost one city, enabled germany to feel secure against france, while she was devoting herself to the extension of her rural and urban powers of production. never at any time did she neglect to keep her army in a posture of offence. all can now see the meaning of this. "militarism is in no sense necessarily economic. but the strength of germany for war was rapidly increased by her success in peace. from the date of the great financial crisis of , and the consequent reorganization of her entire banking system, germany entered upon that determined and well-thought-out attempt to attain pre-eminence in the trade and commerce of the world of which we have not yet seen the end. from , when the german high commissioner, von rouleaux, stigmatized the exhibits of his countrymen as 'cheap and nasty,' special efforts were made to use the excellent education and admirable powers of organization of germany in this field. the government rendered official and financial help in both agriculture and manufacture. scientific training, good and cheap before, was made cheaper and better each year. railways were used not to foster foreign competition, as in great britain, by excessive rates of home freight, but to give the greatest possible advantage to german industry in every department. in more than one rural district the railways were worked at an apparent loss in order to foster home production, from which the nation derived far greater advantage than such apparent sacrifice entailed. the same system of state help was extended to shipping until the great german liners, one of which, indeed, was actually subsidized by england, were more than holding their own with the oldest and most celebrated british companies. "protection, alike in agriculture and in manufacture, bound the whole empire together in essentially imperial bonds. right or wrong in theory--which it is not here necessary to discuss--there can be no doubt whatever that this policy entirely changed the face of germany, and rendered her our most formidable competitor in every market. emigration, which had been proceeding on a vast scale, almost entirely ceased. the savings banks were overflowing with deposits. the position of the workers was greatly improved. not only were german colonies secured in africa and asia, which were more trouble than they were worth, but very profitable commerce with our own colonies and dependencies was growing by leaps and bounds, at the expense of the out-of-date but self-satisfied commercialists of old england. hence arose a trade rivalry, against which we could not hope to contend successfully in the long run, except by a complete revolution in our methods of education and business, to which neither the government nor the dominant class would consent. "this remarkable advance in germany, also, was accompanied by the establishment of a system of banking, specially directed to the expansion of national industry and commerce, a system which was clever enough to use french accumulations, borrowed at a low rate of interest, through the german jews who so largely controlled french financial institutions, in order still further to extend their own trade. it was an admirably organized attempt to conquer the world-market for commodities, in which the government, the banks, the manufacturers and the shipowners all worked for the common cause. meanwhile, both french and english financiers carefully played the game of their business opponents, and the great english banks devoted their attention chiefly to fostering speculation on the stock exchange--a policy of which the germans took advantage, just before the outbreak of war, to an extent not by any means as yet fully understood. "thus, at the beginning of the present year, in spite of the withdrawal, since the agadir affair, of very large amounts of french capital from the german market, germany had attained to such a position that only the united states stood on a higher plane in regard to its future in the world of competitive commerce. and this great and increasing economic strength was, for war purposes, at the disposal of the prussian militarists, if they succeeded in getting the upper hand in politics and foreign affairs." footnotes: [ ] works on the thirty years' war are numerous. many scholarly and exhaustive treatises on various aspects of the subject are, as might be expected, to be found in german. for general popular reading schiller's excellent piece of literary hack work (translated in bonn's library) may still be consulted, but perhaps the best short general history of the war with its entanglement of events is that by the late professor s.r. gardiner, of oxford, which forms one of the volumes of messrs. longman, green & co.'s series entitled "epochs of modern history." chapter x modern german culture it is important to distinguish between the meaning of the german term "kultur" and that commonly expressed in english by the word "culture." the word "kultur" in modern german is simply equivalent to our word "civilization," whereas the word "culture" in english has a special meaning, to wit, that of intellectual attainments. in this chapter we are chiefly concerned with the latter sense of the word. germany had a rich popular literature during the middle ages from the redaction of the _nibelungenlied_ under charles the great onwards. prominent among this popular literature were the love-songs of the minnesingers, the epics drawn from mediæval traditionary versions of the legend of troy, of the career of _alexander the great_, and, to come to more recent times, to legends of _charles the great and his court_, of _arthur and the holy grail_, the _nibelungenlied_ in its present form, and _gudrun_. the "beast-epic," as it was called, was also a favourite theme, especially in the form of _reynard the fox_. in another branch of literature we have collections of laws dating from the thirteenth century and known respectively from the country of their origin as the _sachsenspiegel_ and the _schwabenspiegel_. again, at a later date, followed the productions of the meistersingers, and especially of hans sachs, of nürnberg. then, again, we have the prose literature of the mystics, eckhart, tauler, and their followers. towards the close of the mediæval period we find an immense number of national ballads, of chap-books, not to mention the passion plays or the polemical theological writings of the time leading up to the reformation. luther's works, more especially his translation of the bible, powerfully helped to fix german as a literary language. the reformation period, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, was rich in prose literature of every description--in fact, the output of serious german writing continued unabated until well into the seventeenth century. but the thirty years' war, which devastated germany from end to end, completely swept away the earlier literary culture of the nation. in fact, the event in question forms a dividing line between the earlier and the modern culture of germany. in prose literature, the latter half of the seventeenth century, germany has only one work to show, though that is indeed a remarkable one--namely, grimmelshausen's _simplicissimus_, a romantic fiction under the guise of an autobiography of wild and weird adventure for the most part concerned with the thirty years' war. the rebirth of german literature in its modern form began early in the eighteenth century. leibnitz wrote in latin and french, and his culture was mainly french. his follower, christian wolf, however, first used the german language for philosophical writing. but in poetry, klopstock and wieland, and, in serious prose, lessing and herder, led the way to the great period of german literature. in this period the name of goethe holds the field, alike in prose and poetry. goethe was born in , and hence it was the last quarter of the century which saw him reach his zenith. next to goethe comes his younger contemporary, schiller. it is impossible here to go even briefly into the achievements of the bearers of these great names. they may be truly regarded in many important respects as the founders of modern german culture. around them sprang up a whole galaxy of smaller men, and the close of the eighteenth century showed a literary activity in germany exceeding any that had gone before. turning to philosophy, it is enough to mention the immortal name of immanuel kant as the founder of modern german philosophic thought and the first of a line of eminent thinkers extending to wellnigh the middle of the nineteenth century. the names of fichte, schelling, hegel, schopenhauer and others will at once occur to the reader. contemporaneously with the great rise of modern german literature there was a unique development in music, beginning with sebastian bach and continuing through the great classical school, the leading names in which are glück, haydn, mozart, beethoven, mendelssohn, schubert, etc. the middle period of the nineteenth century showed a further development in prose literature, producing some of the greatest historians and critics the world has seen. at this time, too, germany began to take the lead in science. the names of virchow, helmholtz, häckel, out of a score of others, all of the first rank, are familiar to every person of education in the present and past generation. the same period has been signalized by the great post-classical development in music, as illustrated by the works of schumann, brahms, and, above all, by the towering fame of richard wagner. from the last quarter of the eighteenth century onwards it may truly be said of germany that education is not only more generally diffused than in any other country of europe, but (as a recent writer has expressed it) "is cultivated with an earnest and systematic devotion not met with to an equal extent among other nations." the present writer can well remember some years ago, when at the railway station at breisach (baden) waiting one evening for the last train to take him to colmar, he seated himself at the table of the small station restaurant at which three tradesmen, "the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick-maker" of the place were drinking their beer. broaching to them the subject of the history of the town, he found the butcher quite prepared to discuss with the baker and the candlestick-maker the policy of charles the bold and louis xi as regards the possession of the district, as though it might have been a matter of last night's debate in the house or of the latest horse-race. where would you find this popular culture in any other country? germany possesses universities, polytechnic educational institutes, about higher schools (gymnasia), and nearly , elementary schools. every town of any importance throughout the german states is liberally provided in the matter of libraries, museums, and art collections, while its special institutions, music schools, etc., are famous throughout the world. the german theatre is well known for its thoroughness. every, even moderately sized, german town has its theatre, which includes also opera, in which a high scale of all-round artistic excellence is attained, hardly equalled in any other country. in fact, it is not too much to say that for long germany was foremost in the vanguard of educational, intellectual, and artistic progress. that the above is an over-coloured statement as regards the importance of germany for wellnigh a century and a half past in the history of human culture, in the sense of intellectual progress in its widest meaning, i venture to think that no one competent to judge will allege. is then, it may be asked, the railing of public opinion and the press of great britain and other countries outside germany and austria, against the germany of the present day, and the jeers at the term "german culture" wholly unjustified and the result of national or anti-german prejudice? that there has been much foolish vituperative abuse of the whole german nation and of everything german indiscriminately in the press of this and some other countries is undoubtedly true. but, however, our acknowledgment of this fact will not justify us in refusing to recognize the truth which finds expression in what very often looks like mere foolish vilification. the truth in question will be apparent on a consideration of the change that has come over the german people and german culture since the war of and the foundation of the modern german empire. the material and economic side of this change has been already indicated in a short summary in the quotation which closes the last chapter. but these changes, or advances if you will, on the material side, have been accompanied by a moral and material degeneration which has been only very partially counteracted at present by a movement which, though initiated before the period named, has only attained its great development, and hence influenced the national character, since the date in question. it is a striking fact that in the last forty-four years--the period of the new german empire--there has been a dearth of originality in all directions. in the earlier part of the period in question the survivors from the pre-imperial time continued their work in their several departments, but no new men of the same rank as themselves have arisen, either alongside of them or later to take their places. the one or two that might be adduced as partial exceptions to what has been above said only prove the rule. we have had, it is true, a multitude of men, more or less clever _epigoni_, but little else. again, it is, i think, impossible to deny that a mechanical hardness and brutality have come over the national character which entirely belie its former traits. it is a matter of common observation that in the last generation the german middle class has become noticeably coarsened, vulgarized, and blatant. again, although i am very far from wishing to attribute the crimes and horrors committed by the german army during the present war to the whole german nation, or even to the _rank and file_ of those composing the army, yet there is no doubt that some blame must be apportioned at least to the latter. the contrast is striking between the conduct of the german troops during the present war and that of , when they could declare that they were out "to fight french soldiers and not french citizens." such were the military ethics of bygone generations of german soldiers. they certainly do not apply to the german army of to-day. the popularity of such writers as von treitschke and bernhardi, respecting which so much has been written, is indeed significant of a vast change in german moral conceptions. the practical influence of nietzsche, who--with his corybantic whirl of criticism on all things in heaven above and on the earth beneath, a criticism not always coherent with itself--can hardly be termed a german chauvinist in any intelligible sense, has, i think, been much exaggerated. the importance of his theories, considered as an ingredient in modern german chauvinism, is not so considerable, i should imagine, as is sometimes thought. we come now to the movement already alluded to as a set-off and, within certain boundaries at least, a counteractive of the degeneracy exhibited in the german character since the foundation of the present imperial system. the rise and rapid growth of the social democratic movement is perhaps the most striking fact in the recent history of germany. the same may be said, of course, of the growth of socialism everywhere during the same period. but in germany it has for a generation past, or even more, occupied an exceptional position, alike as regards the rapidity of its increase, its direct influence on the masses, and its party organization. modern socialism, as a party doctrine, is, moreover, a product of the best period of nineteenth-century german thought and literature. its three great theoretical protagonists, marx, engels, and their younger contemporary, lassalle, all issued from the great hegelian movement of the first half of the nineteenth century. their propagandist activity, literary and otherwise, was in the german language. the analysis of the present capitalist system, forming the foundation of the demand for the communization of the means of production, distribution, and exchange, as resulting in a _human_ society as opposed to a _class_ society, and ultimately in the extinction of national barriers in a world-federation of socialized humanity--these principles were first appreciated, as a world-ideal, by the proletariat of germany, and they have unquestionably raised that proletariat to an intellectual rank as yet equalled by no other working-class in the world. it must be admitted, however, that with the colossal growth of the social democratic party in germany in numbers and the introduction into it of elements from various quarters, a certain deterioration, one may hope and believe only temporary, has become apparent in its quality. this applies, at least, to certain sections of the party. a sordid practicalism has made itself felt, due to a feverish desire to play an important rôle in the detail of current politics. personal ambition and the mechanical working of the party system have also had their evil influence in the movement in recent years. nevertheless, we have reason to believe that the core of the party is as sound and as true to principle as ever it was, and that on the restoration of international peace this will be seen to be the case. what interests us, however, specially, at the moment of writing, is the lamentable, yet undeniable, fact that german social democracy has, on this occasion, disastrously failed to prevent the outbreak of war, notwithstanding the vigour of its efforts to do so during the last week of july; and still more that it has failed up to date to stem the rising flood of militarism and jingoism in the german people. that before many months are over the scales will fall from the eyes of the masses of germany i am convinced, and not less that a revolutionary movement in germany will be one of the signs that will herald the dawn of a better day for germany and for europe. but meanwhile we must hold our countenances in patience. if we inquire the cause of the degeneracy we have been considering in the german character since the war of and the creation of the new empire--apart from those economic causes of change common to all countries in modern civilization--the answer of those who have followed the history of the period can hardly fail to be--bismarck and prussia. we have already seen in the short historical sketch given in the last chapter how the robber hand of prussia, in violation of all national treaty rights, had gradually succeeded in annexing wellnigh all the neighbouring german territories. but, notwithstanding this, the greater part of germany still remained outside the prussian monarchy. the policy of bismarck was first of all to cripple the rival claimant for the hegemony of central europe, austria. her complete subjugation being unfeasible, she had to be shut up rigorously to her immediate dominions on the eastern side of central europe, in order to leave the path clear for bismarck, by war or subterfuge, to absorb, under a system of nominally vassal states, the whole of the rest of germany into the system of the prussian monarchy. now, as we know, from its very foundation the hohenzollern-prussian monarchy has always been a more or less veiled despotism, based on working through a military and bureaucratic oligarchy. the army has been the dominant factor of the prussian state from the beginning of the eighteenth century onwards. prussia has been from the beginning of its monarchy the land of the drill-sergeant and the barracks. it is this system which the junker bismarck has riveted on the whole german people, with what results we now see. badenese, würtembergers, franconians, hanoverians, the citizens of the former free cities no less than the already absorbed westphalians, thuringians, silesians, mecklenburgers, were speedily all reduced to being the slaves of the prussian military system and of the prussian military caste. the naïve german peoples, as already pointed out, accepted this prussian domination as the realization of their time-honoured patriotic ideal of german unity. the fact of their subservience was emphasized in every way. the law of _lèse-majesté_ (_majestätsbeleidigung_), by which all criticism of the despotic head of the state or his actions is made a heinous criminal offence, to which severe penalties are attached, it is not too much to say is a law which brands the ruler who accepts it as a coward and a cur, and the legislature which passes it as a house, not of representative citizens, or even subjects for that matter, but of representative _slaves_. it must not be forgotten that the law in question strikes not only at public expressions of opinion in the press or on the platform, but at the most private criticism made in the presence of a friend in one's own room. the depths of undignified and craven meanness to which a monarch is reduced by being thus protected from criticism by the police-truncheon and the gaoler struck me especially as illustrated by the following incident which happened some years ago: shortly after the accession of the present kaiser, a conjurer was giving his entertainment in a swiss town. for one of the tricks he was going to exhibit he had occasion to ask the audience to send him up the names of a few public men on folded pieces of paper. his reception of the names written down was accompanied by the "patter" proper to his profession. on coming to the name of kaiser wilhelm ii he ventured the remark, "ah! i'd rather it had been the poor man just dead" (meaning the emperor frederick), "for i'm afraid this one's not much good." will it be believed that the whole diplomatic machinery was set on foot to induce the swiss government to prosecute the unfortunate entertainer, abortively of course, since it could not have been legally done? surely the head of a state who could allow his government to descend to such contemptible pettiness must be devoid of all sense of common self-respect, not to say personal dignity. and this is the fellow who claims to be hardly second in importance to his "dear old god"! in this connection it is only fair to recall the very different behaviour of king edward vii when an irish paper published not a mere criticism but an unquestionably libellous article reflecting on his private character. the police seized the copies of the paper and were prepared to take steps to prosecute, when the late king interfered and stopped even the confiscation of the paper. the least monarchical of us must, i think, admit that here we have a good illustration of the distinction between a man sure of his reputation and a cur nervously alarmed for his. this severe law of _lèse-majesté_ in bismarck's prusso-german empire is only an illustration of the way in which the german people have been made to grovel before the prussian jack-boot. the prussification of germany in matters military and in matters bureaucratic has gone on apace since . prussia, it is not too much to say, has hitherto consisted in a nation of slaves and tyrants and nothing else. it is the prussian governing class which has everywhere and in all departments "set the pace" since the empire was established. no man known to hold opinions divergent from those agreeable to the interests of the prussian governing class can hope for employment, be it the most humble, in any department of the public service. this is particularly noticeable in its effects in the matter of education. the inculcation of the brutal and blatant jingoism of von treitschke at the universities by professors eager for approval in high places has already been sufficiently animadverted upon in more than one work on modern germany. the defeat of prusso-german militarism will be an even greater gain to all that is best in germany herself than it will be to europe as a whole. _delenda est prussia_, understanding thereby not, of course, the inhabitants of prussian territory as such, but prussia as a state-system and as an independent power in europe, must be the watchword in the present crisis of every well-wisher of humanity, germany included. a united germany, if that be insisted upon, by all means let there be--a federation of all the german peoples with its capital, for that matter, as of old, at frankfurt-on-the-main, but with no dominant state and, if possible, excluding prussia altogether, but certainly as constituted at present. who knows but that a united states of germany may then prove the first step towards a united states of europe? but it is not alone to the political reconstruction of germany or of europe that those who take an optimistic view of the issue of the present european war look hopefully. the whole economic system of modern capitalism will have received a shock from which the beginnings of vast changes may date. apart from this, however, the avowed aim of the war, the destruction of prussian militarism and, indirectly, the weakening of military power throughout the world, should have immediate and important consequences. the brutalities and crimes committed in belgium and the north of france at the instigation of the military heads of this prusso-german army do but indicate exaggerations of the military spirit and attitude generally. von hindenburg is not the first who has given utterance to the devilish excuse for military crime and brutality that it is "more humane in the end, since it shortens war." to refute this transparent fallacy is scarcely necessary, since every historical student knows that military excesses and inhumanity do not shorten but prolong war by raising indignation and inflaming passions. the longest connected war known to history--the thirty years' war--is generally acknowledged to have been signalized by the greatest and most continuous inhumanity of any on record. but whether military crime has the effect claimed for it or not, we may fain hope that public opinion in europe will insist upon giving the "humane" commanders who "mercifully" endeavour to "shorten" war by drastic methods of this sort a severe lesson. a few such treated to the utmost penalties the ordinary criminal law prescribes to the crimes of arson, murder, and robbery would teach them and their like that war, if waged at all nowadays, must be waged decently and not "shortened" by such devices as those in question. if the present war with all its horrible carnage issues, even if only in the beginning of those changes which some of us believe must necessarily result from it--changes economical, political, and moral--then indeed it will not have been waged in vain. with the great intellectual powers of the germanic people devoted, not to the organization of military power and of national domination, but to furthering the realization of a higher human society; with the determination on the part of the best elements among every european people to work together internationally with each other, and not least with the new germany, to this end, and the great european war of will be looked back upon by future generations as the greatest world-historic example of the proverbial evil out of which good, and a lasting and inestimable good, has come for europe and the world. unwin brothers limited the gresham press woking and london. * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | page : distrtict replaced with district | | page : therin replaced with therein | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * the woodcutter of gutech, by w.h.g. kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ a very short book, and a fairly early one of the author's. the subject matter is the early days of the reformation, and the time at which the roman church was trying to prevent ordinary people from reading the bible in general, and the gospels in particular. the woodcutter with his son and his donkey are working in the forest, one evening, when a man asks them for directions to get out of the forest. they offer him a bed for the night, so he comes to their home, where he produces his wares, which consist of bibles, and he explains them to the enthralled family. although it is short this book makes a nice little audiobook. ________________________________________________________________________ the woodcutter of gutech, by w.h.g. kingston. chapter one. a traveller was making his way through the black forest in germany. a pack was on his back, of a size which required a stout man to carry it, and a thick staff was in his hand. he had got out of his path by attempting to make a short cut, and in so doing had lost his way, and had been since wandering he knew not where. yet he was stout of heart, as of limb, and a night spent in the depths of the forest would have concerned him but little had he not set a value upon time. "i have lost so much in my days of ignorance and folly," he kept saying, "that i must make up by vigilance what has been thus misspent. i wish that i had known better. however, i am now ready to spend all, and be spent in the work of the good master i serve." the ground was uneven, his load heavy, and the weather warm. still he trudged bravely on, consoling himself by giving forth, in rich full tones, a hymn of hans sachs of nuremburg, the favourite poet of protestant germany in those days. thus he went on climbing up the steep side of the hill, out of which dark rocks and tall trees protruded in great confusion. at last he got into what looked like a path. "all right now," he said to himself; "this must lead somewhere, and i have still an hour of daylight to find my way out of the forest. when i get to the top of this hill i shall probably be better able to judge what direction to take." he trudged on as before, now and then stopping to take breath, and then once more going on bravely. at length the sound of a woodman's axe caught his ear. "all right," said he. "i should not have allowed my heart to doubt about the matter. the good one who has protected me hitherto will still continue to be my guide and friend." he stopped to listen from which direction the sounds came. the loud crash of a falling tree enabled him better to judge, and by the light of the sinking sun, which found its way through the branches of the tall trees, he made directly towards the spot. he soon caught sight of an old man, stripped to his shirt and trousers, who with his gleaming axe was hewing the branches of the tree he had just felled. not far off stood a young boy with a couple of donkeys, which he was beginning to load with fagots, near a pile of which they stood. "friend woodman," said the traveller, as he got up to him, and the old man stood for a moment leaning on his axe, with an inquiring glance in his eye. "friend woodman, i have lost my way; can you help me to find it?" "not to-night, friend traveller," answered the woodman. "if i was to attempt to put you on your way, you would lose it again in five minutes. this is no easy country for a man ignorant of it to pass through without a guide, and neither i nor little karl there have time just now to accompany you. but you look like an honest man, and if you will come with me to my cottage, i will help you as far as i can to-morrow morning." "thank you," said the traveller. "i accept your offer." "well then, i have just made my last stroke," said the old man, lifting up his axe. "we will load our asses and be off. we have some way to go, as i live farther up the valley of gutech, and even i prefer daylight to darkness for travelling these wild paths. if you had not found me i cannot say when you would have got out of the forest." without further waste of words, the old man and young karl set to work to load the asses, strapping on the huge fagots with thongs of leather, while the patient animals, putting out their fore-legs, quietly endured all the tugs and pulls to which they were subjected. "that pack of yours seems heavy, friend traveller," said the old man, glancing at his companion; "let me carry it for you." "no, no! thanks to you," answered the traveller. "i am strong and hearty. i would not put that on your shoulders which i feel burdensome to my own." "then let us put it on the back of one of the asses," said the woodcutter; "it will make but little difference to our long-eared friend." "a merciful man is merciful to his beast," said the traveller. "the poor brutes seem already somewhat overloaded, and i should be unwilling to add to their pain for the sake of relieving myself." "then let karl, there, carry it; he is sturdy, and can bear it some little way, at all events," said the old man. "i would not place on young shoulders what i find tire a well-knit pair," said the traveller, glancing at young karl. "but perhaps he may like to get some of the contents of my pack inside his head," he added. "down his mouth, i suppose you mean," said the old man, laughing. "is it food or liquor you carry in your pack?" "no, indeed, friend," answered the traveller. "yet it is food, of a sort food for the mind, and better still, food for the soul. is your soul ever hungry, friend?" "i know not what you mean," answered the old man. "i have a soul, i know, for the priest tells me so; and so have my relatives who have gone before me, as i know to my cost; for they make me pay pretty roundly to get their souls out of purgatory. i hope karl there will in his turn pay for mine when i die." "ah, friend, yes, i see how it is," said the traveller. "your soul wants a different sort of nourishment from what it ever has had. i have great hopes that the contents of my pack will afford it that nourishment." the traveller was walking on all this time with the old man and karl, behind the asses. karl kept looking up in the former's face with an inquiring glance, the expression of his countenance varying as the traveller continued his remarks. "i will not keep you in suspense any longer," said the traveller. "my pack contains copies of that most precious book which has lately been translated into our mother tongue by dr martin luther, and from which alone we have any authority for the christian faith we profess. i have besides several works by the same learned author, as also works by other writers." "i wish that i could read them," said the old man, with a sigh; "but if i had the power i have not the time, and my eyes are somewhat dim by lamplight. karl there was taught to read last winter by a young man who was stopping at my cottage, and whom i took in, having found him with a broken leg in the forest." "oh, grandfather, why he taught you also to read almost as well as i do!" said karl. "all you have been wishing for has been a book in big print, and perhaps if the merchant has one he will sell it to you." "we will examine the contents of my pack when we get to your cottage, my friend, and i daresay something will be found to suit you," observed the traveller. "if you have made a beginning, you will soon be able to read these books, and i am sure when once you have begun you will be eager to go on." chapter two. the gloom of evening was settling down over the wild scene of mountain, forest, rock, and stream, when the traveller reached the woodman's hut. "you are welcome, friend, under the roof of nicholas moretz," said the old man, as he ushered his guest into his cottage. karl mean time unloading the asses, placed the fagots on a pile raised on one side of the hut. "here you can rest for the night, and to-morrow morning, when we proceed into the town to dispose of our fagots, you can accompany us without risk of losing your way," the woodcutter observed, pushing open the door. as he did so, a young girl ran out to meet him, and throwing her arms round his neck, received a kiss on her fair brow. she drew back with a bashful look when she saw the stranger. "sweet one, you must get another bowl and platter for our guest," said the old man. "as he has travelled far with a heavy load on his back, he will do justice to your cookery, mistress meta. she and the boy, my grandson," he added, turning to the traveller, "are my joy and comfort in life, now that my poor daughter has been taken from me." the traveller unstrapped his heavy pack from his shoulders, and placed it on a bench by the side of the wall; after which meta brought him a bowl of fresh water and a towel, that he might wash his hands and face, which they not a little required. while he was performing this operation she placed the supper which she had prepared upon the table, which, if somewhat coarse, was abundant. by this time karl came in, and the whole party took their seats on stools round the table. "let us bless god for the good things he bestows on us, and above all for the spiritual blessings he has so mercifully prepared for us," said the traveller. "i suppose you are a priest," said moretz, when the stranger had concluded. "i thank you for the prayer you have offered up for us." "no, my friend, i am no priest," answered the traveller. "my name is gottlieb spena. i am a humble man with a small amount of learning; but i am able to read god's blessed word, and that is my delight every day i live. my wish is to serve him, and i feel sure i can best do so by carrying this pack of books about the country, and disposing of them to those who desire to buy." "this is a new thing, surely," observed moretz. "i should like after supper to see some of these wonderful books you speak of, and to hear you read from the one you call `god's word;' and if i find the price is not too great, perhaps i may purchase one for meta and karl." the young girl's eyes sparkled as her grandfather spoke. "oh, i should like to have that book!" she exclaimed. "i have heard of it, though i knew not that it was to be sold, or that people were allowed to read it. i thought it was only for the priests to read." "blessed be god, for us unlearned ones who cannot understand the language in which it is written, it has been translated into our native tongue; and god has sent it as his message of love to all human beings, young and old, rich and poor. it is so easy, that he who runs may read. the youngest child may understand the message it gives, while it is equally suited to the wisest philosopher, and to the most powerful king on his throne." the young people hurried through their suppers while their guest was speaking, so eager were they to see the package opened. in those days thousands and tens of thousands of people in so-called christian lands had never seen a bible, though the translation made by dr martin luther was being spread in every direction throughout the length and breadth of germany by men like gottlieb spena, who carried packs filled with the sacred volume on their shoulders. they did the same afterwards in france, where the name of colporteurs [see note] was in consequence given to them. meta waited anxiously till her grandfather and their guest had finished their suppers, and then as rapidly as possible cleared away the bowls and platters which they had used. the book-hawker with a smile observed her anxiety, and placing his pack on the table, opened it, and exhibited to the admiring eyes of the spectators a number of volumes. "this," he said, taking out one, "is the old testament, or god's first message to man; and this is the new testament, his last message, in which he shows himself to us as a god of love, mercy, and pity, though by no means less a god of justice than he does in the old testament. but here he shows us clearly how his justice can be amply satisfied, without the sinner being punished as he deserves; how our sins may be blotted out by the one great sacrifice offered up. do you understand me, my friends? the sacrifice has been offered up, the debt has been paid, the obedience has been fulfilled by jesus christ, who came on earth and took upon himself the body and nature of man, sin excepted. he was obedient in all things--first by god's wish coming on earth, and then dutiful and loving to his parents, merciful and forgiving to those who persecuted him, ever going about and healing their infirmities, and teaching them the way of salvation. the good saviour allowed himself to be hung upon the cross; his hands and feet and sides were pierced; his blood was poured out for us,--ay, for us,--for you and me,--for the vilest of sinners. all this was done by the just one for the unjust. god tells us to believe in jesus, and that through believing we are saved,--in other words, that we should take hold of it by faith, and thus accomplish what that loving god, through the holy spirit, said: `the just shall live by faith.'" the young people drew in their breath, and gazed steadfastly at the speaker. to hear of sin and the cross was not new to them, for they had been at churches sometimes at holy days; but it was all a mummery and spectacle, with which the priests alone seemed to have to do. the truths now uttered were assuredly gaining some entrance into their minds. "i do not understand quite what you say, friend spena," said the old man; "but surely god does not intend to give us the blessings of heaven without our doing anything to merit it? he intends us to labour, and toil, and pay the priests, and perform penances, and go to mass, and make confession of our sins to the priests, before he could think of letting us into that blessed place." "i once thought as you do," answered the book-hawker. "when i read god's word, i learned to think very differently." as he spoke he opened the testament. "listen. the holy spirit says through the book, `god so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' here he says nothing about penances, or doing anything of that sort. listen again: a ruler of the jews, a learned man, paid a visit once to jesus, to ask him about the way of salvation, and his answer was, `ye must be born again.' he does not say you must do anything, or you must try to mend your ways, or you must alter your mode of living, you must go to confession, or pay for masses, or anything of that sort. the ruler could not at first at all understand the answer. our blessed lord then explained it in these words: `as moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.' now in the old testament we read of a circumstance which happened when the israelites were travelling through the desert, on their way out of the bondage of egypt to the land of promise. they were there bitten by fiery serpents, whose bite caused certain death. they felt themselves dying, and cried to be saved. god told moses to make a brazen serpent, and to raise it up in the midst of the camp, and directed him to inform the people that all those bitten by the serpent who looked up at the serpent should be saved. every one of them, without exception, who did thus look, was cured. you see, my friend, by putting the two accounts together, we see clearly what our lord means,-- not that we are to do anything in a way of obtaining merit, but simply look to him who hung on the cross, was thus lifted up for us, and is now seated on the right hand of god, pleading as the only mediator all he did for us. a king, when he bestows gifts, gives them through his grace. it is an insult to offer to purchase them. far more does god bestow his chief gifts as an act of grace. i do not say that he does not expect something in return; but he gives salvation freely, and will allow of nothing to be done beforehand, but simply that the gift should be desired, and its value appreciated, or partly appreciated; for we never can value it as it deserves." the woodcutter and his grandchildren listened earnestly to these and many other simple truths, as their guest went on reading and explaining portion after portion. nor did he omit to pray that god, through the holy spirit, would enlighten the minds of his hearers, and enable them to comprehend what he was reading and what he was saying. hour after hour thus passed by. several times did meta rise and trim the lamp. "must you hasten on your journey? or can you not rest here another day, and tell us more of those glorious things?" said the old man, placing his hand on spena's shoulder, and gazing earnestly into his face. "yes, i will stay, friend," answered the book-hawker, "if by so doing i can place more clearly before you the way of salvation." at length the inmates of the cottage and their guest lay down to rest on their rough couches, and angels looked down from heaven, rejoicing at what they there saw and heard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note: colporteurs, literally "neck-carriers;" because their packs were strung round their necks, or, rather, the strap went round their chests. chapter three. gottlieb spena was much the better for his day's rest, and the following morning set out with old moretz and his grandson on their weekly journey, when they went into the neighbouring town to dispose of their fagots. "and how came you to undertake this good work, friend?" asked the old man, as they journeyed. "in a few words i can answer you," said the book-hawker. "i was once a monk, a lazy drone. our convent was rich, and we had nothing to do except to appear for so many hours every day in church, and repeat or chant words, of the sense of which we did not for a moment trouble ourselves. copies of the blessed gospel, however, were brought among us, and certain works by dr martin luther, and friends of his, which stirred us up to read that gospel, and to see whether we held the faith it teaches, or were leading the lives it requires. first one and then another, and finally almost all of us came to the conclusion that we were not in any way living according to god's law, and that the whole system we supported was evil and wrong; and we all agreed to go forth into the world, and to become useful members of society. some, who had the gift of speaking, after a time became preachers of the gospel. as i had not that gift, and had but a small amount of learning, i resolved, by the advice of dr martin luther, to put a pack upon my shoulders, and to go forth and to distribute the written word through the land, and to speak a word in season, as god might give me opportunity. if the pope or tetzel can catch me i have no doubt that they will burn me as they burned john huss. but i have counted the cost, and i am prepared for that or anything else that can befall me. i have placed myself in god's hands, and fear not what man can do to me." "you are a brave man," said old moretz, grasping the book-hawker's hand; "and whatever you may say of yourself, i should say that you are a true preacher of god's word, and i pray that there may be many others like you going forth throughout our country." "amen," said spena, as the old man and he, warmly shaking each other's hand, parted. "i hope there may be very many better men than i am;" and he went on his way, selling his books and speaking a word in season; and thus a humble instrument, as he thought himself, bringing many souls to the knowledge of the truth, and to accept the free offers of eternal life through a simple, loving faith in christ jesus. we must here observe that before leaving the woodcutter's hospitable hut, gottlieb spena delivered the precious book into the custody of meta, bidding her an affectionate farewell, with the prayer that it might prove a blessing to her soul and to those dear to her. meta never failed to pass every moment she could steal from her daily avocations in perusing the new testament. when her grandfather and brother returned home from their work, she had always some fresh account to give them of which she had read; and from henceforth the old man and karl passed a part of every evening in reading it, while the great part of that day which god has given to toiling man as a day of rest was passed in gaining knowledge from its precious pages. old moretz had now got what he never before possessed. he understood the way of salvation through jesus christ, whom he loved and desired to serve. the more he saw of the love of god the more he felt his own sinfulness and unworthiness, and felt the need of a better righteousness than any good works of his own. the holy spirit was teaching him this and other truths from the scriptures. meta and karl also were daily growing in knowledge and grace. they had before been contented and cheerful, but it was the mere happiness of health and freedom from sorrow. now they possessed a joy which nothing could take away from them. they relied with simplicity and confidence on god's word. they knew that which he said he would do. "if grandfather is taken from us, or you are taken, karl, i know we shall be parted but for a short time. we shall meet again and be happy, oh, so happy!" exclaimed meta, as karl came in one day when his work was over, and found her ever and anon glancing at her bible, which lay open on the table, while she was engaged in some business about the cottage. moretz soon found that those who hold to the truth are often called upon to suffer for the truth. so it has been from the beginning. god requires faith, but he desires us to prove our faith. other men, like spena, were traversing the country, not only like him distributing books, but openly preaching the principles of the reformation. they did so in many places, at great hazard to themselves. the papists, where they could, opposed and persecuted them, as the apostle paul before his conversion did the christians he could get hold of, haling them to prison, to torture, and to death. moretz often went into the town of hornberg to sell his fagots. even he was not without his enemies. as he and karl were one day driving their asses laden with wood into the town, they encountered a long string of pack-horses which had brought in their cargoes and were now returning. behind them rode a big, burly man, dressed as a farmer, on a stout, strong horse. he scowled on moretz, who was about to pass him, and roughly told him to move his asses and himself out of the way. he had an old grudge against moretz, who had resisted an unjust attempt to seize some land to which the rich man had no right. "with pleasure, master johann herder. i would not wish to occupy your place, as i doubt not you would not wish to fill mine." "what does he mean?" exclaimed herder; but moretz had already done as he was bid, and got quickly out of the way. herder went on some little distance, muttering to himself, and then stopped and looked in the direction moretz had taken. ordering his servants to proceed with the animals, he wheeled round his horse and slowly followed the woodcutter. moretz quickly disposed of his fagots among his usual customers, and was about to return home when he saw a large crowd in the square assembled round a man who was addressing them from a roughly-raised platform. moretz could not resist the temptation of joining the crowd, for a few words which reached his ears interested him greatly. he got as close up to the speaker as he could with his asses, on the backs of which he and karl were mounted. the preacher wore a monk's dress, but instead of a crucifix he held a book in his hand, which moretz and karl guessed rightly was the bible. he argued that it being god's revelation to man, it was sufficient for all that man requires to show him the way by which he might get out of his fallen state and obtain eternal happiness. "are we then," he asked, "to be guided by this book, or to be directed by men who say things directly opposed to this book? the priests have taught you that there is a purgatory. it was a notion held by the heathen nations, but god's ancient people, the jews, knew nothing of it, and this book says not a word about it. a man has been going about the country, sent by the pope, selling bits of paper, which he tells the people will get the souls of their friends and their own souls out of this purgatory. he makes them pay a somewhat high price for these pieces of paper, and if we look at them at their real value, a prodigiously high price. now the bible says, `the soul that sinneth it shall surely die.' `believe on the lord jesus christ, and thou shalt be saved.' it nowhere says if we are ever so great sinners, and die in our sins, our friends may buy the means by which we can escape the consequence of sin. it does, however, say that however great a sinner you are, if you turn to jesus christ, and trust to him, you will be saved; and it gives us the account of the thief on the cross, who, even at the last moment, trusting to jesus, was saved." thus the preacher continued arguing from the bible, showing from it numberless falsehoods put forth by the church of rome. then he put very clearly and forcibly the simple gospel before the people,--man's fallen state; the love of christ which induced him to come on earth to draw man out of that fallen state, if he would accept the means freely offered to him. still, unhappily, man continued to "love darkness rather than light, because his deeds are evil;" and thus do the cardinals and bishops and priests, who are the ruling powers of the church of rome, endeavour to keep the minds of people in ignorance, that they may draw money from the pockets of their dupes, and continue to live on in indolence and vice. chapter four. while he was speaking a large body of people, led on by a man on horseback, and accompanied by several priests, were seen advancing at the farther end of the square. many of the people fled, but the preacher boldly kept his ground, as did moretz and karl, who, indeed, scarcely heeded the movement of the people surrounding him. in another minute moretz found himself dragged from his pack-saddle by a couple of men, and looking up, he saw johann herder frowning down upon him. he struggled to free himself, for his muscles were well-knit, and he had lost but little of his vigour. he succeeded in getting near enough to karl to whisper, "fly away home and look after meta. god will take care of me. do not be afraid. keep up your spirits, karl. off!--off! quick! quick!" he had scarcely uttered these words before he was again seized by two additional men, who set on him, and he saw that to struggle further was useless. "bring him along," said herder, "with the other prisoners. the magistrates will quickly adjudge the case. i knew that i should some day have my revenge," he whispered into the old man's ear, "and i intend to make you feel it bitterly." moretz was thankful to see that karl had made his escape, and without opposition followed his captors to the hall where the magistrates were sitting. they had resolved to prevent any public preaching in their town. while the magistrates' officers were making prisoners, several men rallied round the preacher, and before he could be seized, got him down from the platform in their midst, and then retired down the street, no one venturing to attack them. moretz, with six or seven more prisoners, was placed before the magistrates, several priests being present, eager to obtain their condemnation. moretz was asked how he dared stop and listen to an heretical preacher, and whether he thought the preacher was speaking the truth, or falsehood? "had i thought he had been speaking falsehood, i would not have stopped to listen to him," answered the old man, boldly. "he spoke things, too, which i know are to be found in the word of god, and i am sure that all in that book is true." "evidently a fearful heretic!" exclaimed the magistrates. "we must make an example of him, and put a stop to this sort of thing. in the meantime, to prison with him!" "stay," said one. "though guilty of listening, perchance he will recant, and acknowledge himself in error." "indeed i will not," answered the old man. "i believe god rather than man, and will not deny the truths he has taught me." "off with him!--off with him! you see there is no use discussing matters with a heretic," exclaimed some of the other magistrates. the other prisoners were now tried. two or three only of them, were, however, committed to prison, the others acknowledging themselves in error. of these, however, several as they went away muttered words complimentary neither to their judges nor to the pope and his cardinals. moretz, with several other prisoners, was marched off under a strong guard to the prison. it was a dark, old, gloomy building, which had been a castle, but having been partly dismantled, had been fitted up again for its present purpose. it contained several long passages, both above ground and under ground, leading to arched cells with strong oak doors plated with iron. into one of these dungeons moretz was now thrust. there he was left in solitude. there was but little light, but he discovered a heap of straw in one corner, on which he sat himself down. "well," he thought, "other people have been shut up in prison cells worse than this, and christians too." and then he thought of paul and silas in the prison at philippi, and how they had spent their time in praying and singing praises to god. "that is just what i ought to do," he said to himself; but he did not pray so much for himself as for his dear little meta and karl, that god would take care of them, and deliver him in his own good time, if it was his will to do so. then he began to sing, for spena had left a book of hymns, the words of several of which he had already learned by heart. "the feet of paul and silas were in the stocks," he said to himself, "then surely i am better off than they were; i ought to praise god for that;" and so he sang on right cheerfully. however, not being accustomed to sit long, he soon got up and walked about his cell. he could make but few paces without turning. a gleam of light came through an aperture in the upper part of the wall. "i am not much below ground, at all events," he observed; and it set him thinking, always lifting up his heart in prayer to god. chapter five. meanwhile karl had returned home with the donkeys. poor meta was greatly grieved and alarmed when she heard the sad news. "those cruel men will be killing dear grandfather, as they killed john huss," she said, looking with tearful eyes at karl. "we can pray for him, however, that is one comfort." they did not fail to do as meta said; not only night and morning, but several times during the day; before karl set off on his expedition into the forest to cut wood, and when he returned, or when he went into the town to sell his fagots. "when grandfather told me to run away, he intended that i should work hard to support you, meta, and so i will." meta was accustomed to be alone. she was a happy-hearted girl, and used to sing and amuse herself very well, when she knew that her grandfather and brother would soon return to her. the case was very different now. her great comfort was reading the bible. she had more time to do that than formerly. without it she felt sure she would have broken down altogether. still, occasionally, she felt her spirits sink so low that she could not help wishing to accompany karl into the forest. "i can take the book and read to him when he stops to rest or to eat his dinner; and i can talk to him and cheer him up, for he must feel quite as sad as i do, i know." karl gladly agreed to her proposal, so the next day, shutting up the cottage, they set out together. the way was rough, but meta was well accustomed to tread it, and without encountering any danger they reached the part of the forest in which karl usually laboured. meta carried out her plan just as she had proposed, and karl, though he rested longer than had been his wont, got through more work than usual. for several days she did the same, very much to her own and karl's satisfaction. on one occasion she was seated on a piece of timber, with her book on her knees, reading, while karl sat on the ground at her feet, eating his frugal meal, but slowly though, for every now and then he looked up to ask her the meaning of certain passages, or to make some remark. they were thus employed, entirely absorbed in the subject. some slight noises reached their ears, but if their attention was drawn to them they thought they were caused by the asses which were browsing near brushing among the bushes. meta read on. at length she stopped, when, looking up, she saw standing near her, and gazing with a look of astonishment, a gentleman in a rich hunting suit, a short sword by his side, a horn hung round his neck, and a jewelled dagger in his belt. his white beard and moustache, and his furrowed cheeks, showed that he was already advanced in life, though he looked active and strong. a pleasant smile passed over his countenance, as meta, littering an exclamation of astonishment, gazed up at him. karl started to his feet, and instinctively put himself in an attitude of defence. "do not be alarmed, my young friends," said the gentleman. "i wish to serve you rather than to do you any harm. what is that book you are reading from, little maiden?" "the bible, sir, god's word," answered meta, without hesitation. "a very blessed book, and a very blessed message it contains," observed the gentleman. "but how came you young foresters to possess it, and to learn to read it?" "i learned at herr gellet's school," answered meta, "and a good man who came by this way, sold us the book at a small price. it is worth ten times the sum we gave, i am sure of that." "and where do you live?" asked the gentleman. meta told him. "and is your grandfather sick, that he is not with you?" he inquired. "alas! he has been cast into prison for listening to a preacher of god's word," said meta, "and we know not what they are going to do with him, whether they will burn him, as they have done others, or keep him shut up." the nobleman, for such by his appearance they supposed him to be, continued looking with great interest at meta, while she was speaking. having made further inquiries about the old woodcutter, he joined several of his companions who had been standing all the time at a little distance, scarcely perceived till now by meta and karl. one of them had been holding his horse, which he mounted, and rode away, conversing with him through the forest. karl having made up his fagots, proceeded homewards, talking with meta as they went, about the interview with the nobleman, and wondering who he could be. "i wonder whether he is the count furstenburg, whose castle is, i know, some short distance off, though i have never been up to it. i have several times seen the tops of the towers over the trees. yet whenever i have heard his name mentioned he has been spoken of as a fierce, cruel lord, tyrannical both to his dependants and even to those of his own family. i know i have heard of all sorts of bad things about him, but grandfather never likes to speak of him." "then i am sure that noble cannot be the count furstenburg," said meta: "he spoke so gently and looked so kindly at us." scarcely had they entered their cottage than they heard horses' hoofs approaching it. karl ran out to see who it was, while meta was preparing the supper. "oh, meta!" exclaimed karl, running back, "it is that dreadful man, johann herder, our grandfather's great enemy! his coming bodes us no good." they consulted whether they should bolt the door, but meta advised that they should show no alarm; and as herder could easily break open the door, it would be useless to try and keep him out. in another minute herder entered the cottage. he cast a frowning glance around him. "where is your grandfather?" he asked. "i am afraid, sir, he is in prison," answered meta. "why is he there?" he asked again. "karl says, because he was listening to a preacher of the gospel," answered meta. "he was assisting in creating a disturbance rather," observed herder. "i am sure grandfather is not the man to do that," exclaimed karl. "i was with him, and he was as quiet as any man could be." "then you ought to have been taken prisoner too," exclaimed the farmer. "i must see to that. and what book is that you have by your side, maiden?" he asked, glancing at meta's bible, which she was prepared to read. "god's word, sir," said meta, firmly. "we always read it before sitting down to meals. it is by reading it that we learn of salvation. this book says, `faith cometh by hearing,' or reading god's word, and by faith we are saved." "those are strange doctrines you are speaking," said the rough man, yet feeling, perhaps, more than he was willing to acknowledge, the force of her words, and greatly struck by her calmness and bravery. "they cannot be new, sir," answered meta, "for they were written by the apostles themselves, nor are they strange, for the same reason." "i came not to discuss such matters," said herder, turning away. "my reason for coming here was to tell your grandfather that he must move out of this cottage, as i have bought it. as he is not here, i give you the notice, and let me tell you that the opinions you utter are very dangerous. they are not such as to please the priests or bishop; take care, therefore, what you are about." without further words, herder turned round, unwilling it seemed to look any longer on the young girl and her brother who had so boldly confronted him. leaving the cottage, he mounted his horse and rode off. the young people could not help being alarmed. it would be a sad thing to have to leave their old home, and for their grandfather, when he got out of prison, to be obliged to seek for a new one. his other threats also boded them no good. they had, however, strength the rough man knew nothing of. as soon as they were again alone, they knelt down and prayed for protection, nor failed to obtain the comfort prayer will always bring. they then returned to the table and partook of their yet untasted supper. before it was finished, a knock was heard at the door. "shall i open it?" asked karl. "perhaps it is herr herder come back again." "oh, no!" said meta, "he would not knock. we should not be afraid to open the door." karl withdrew the bolt, and who should he see but the book-hawker, gottlieb spena! they recognised him at once. he entered, and saluting them, kindly inquired for their grandfather. "i trust he has not been taken from you," he said, with an expression of anxiety. "indeed he has, sir," said meta, "but not by death;" and in a few words she explained what had happened. "that is very sad, but god will protect you, my children," he observed, placing his pack, as he had before done, in a corner of the room. "we must try and obtain his liberation. the people of germany will no longer submit to persecution. however, i trust that, by some means, your grandfather's liberation may be obtained." meta and karl warmly thanked their friend, and begged him to partake of their humble fare. this he did, seeing that there was abundance. suddenly he exclaimed, "i have thought of a plan. i will endeavour to gain admittance to your grandfather, and if so, i trust the means may be given him to escape from the prison." as it was somewhat late, the book-hawker gladly availed himself of the shelter of the hut for the night, while he amply repaid his young hosts by reading and expounding the scriptures to them, greatly to their satisfaction. chapter six. the old woodcutter sat in his cell, his spirits yet unbroken, and resolved, as at first, to adhere to the faith. still, accustomed as he had been to a life in the open air, his spirits occasionally flagged and his health somewhat suffered. often and often he thought to himself, as he examined the walls of his prison, "if i had an iron tool of some sort, i doubt if these walls would long contain me." but everything he had possessed had been taken from him when he was first brought to prison, and not even a nail could he find with which to work as he proposed. he was seated on his heap of straw, and the gaoler entered with his usual fare of brown bread and water. "i have a message for you, old man," said the gaoler, who, though rough in appearance, spoke sometimes in a kind tone. "a holy monk wishes to see you, and bade me tell you so." "i have no desire to see a monk," answered moretz. "he cannot make me change my faith, and it would be time lost were he to come to me." "but he brings you a message from your grandchildren," said the gaoler. "he bade me say that if you refused to see him--" moretz thought an instant. "let him come then," he answered. the gaoler nodded and took his departure. in a short time he returned, ushering in a sturdy, strong-looking man in a monk's dress. the gaoler retired, closing the door. "you do not know me, friend moretz," said his visitor, in a low voice. "i have been admitted, that i might give you spiritual comfort and advice," he said, in a louder tone, "and i gladly accepted the office." his visitor talked for some time with moretz, producing from under his dress a book from which he read, though not without difficulty, by the gleam of light which came in through the small opening which has been spoken of. from another pocket he produced two iron instruments carefully wrapped up, so as not to strike against each other. "here is a strong chisel," he said, "and here is a stout file. i have heard of people working their way through prison walls with worse instruments than these. now farewell, friend moretz. the time i am allowed to remain with you is ended, and the gaoler will be here anon to let me out of the prison." "i fear you run a great risk," said moretz, warmly thanking his visitor. "for the lord's people i am ready to run any risk," was the answer, and just then the gaoler was heard drawing back the bolts. the friar took his departure. the old woodcutter was once more left alone. he had piled up his straw on the side of the wall on which the opening was placed. he now carefully drew it back, and began working away at a stone which had before been hidden by it. his success surpassed his expectations. there had been a drain or a hole left for some purpose, carelessly filled up. thus hour after hour he scraped away, carefully replacing the straw directly he heard the gaoler's step near his door. what a sweet thing is liberty! the woodcutter's chief difficulty was to hide the rubbish he dug out, the straw being scarcely sufficient for that purpose. as he was working, however, he let his chisel drop. he thought the stone on which it dropped emitted a hollow sound. he worked away in consequence, to remove it, and great was his satisfaction to find beneath a hole of some size. he was now able to labour with more confidence. in a short time he had removed the stone from the wall, giving him an aperture of sufficient size to pass through. the earth beyond was soft. and now he dug and dug away, following up the hole in the pavement. he was afraid sometimes that his hands covered with earth might betray him, but the gaoler's lantern was dim, and he managed always to conceal them as much as possible when the man entered. at length he felt sure from the height he had worked that he was near the surface of the earth on the outside. he now feared lest it might fall in during the daytime, and this made him hesitate about working except during the hours of the night. he had saved up as many crusts of bread as his pockets would hold, in order, should it become necessary for him to lie concealed for any length of time, that he might have wherewith to support life. and now the time arrived when he believed that he should be able to extricate himself altogether. he waited till the gaoler had paid his last visit, and then watched anxiously till the thickening gloom in his cell showed him that night was approaching. he had all along of course worked in darkness, so that it being night made no difference to him. he now dug away bravely, and as he had not to carry the earth into the hole, he made great progress. at length, working with his chisel above his head, he felt it pierce through the ground. greater caution was therefore necessary, lest the falling earth should make a noise. the fresh air which came down restored his strength, and in a few minutes he was able to lift himself out of the hole. he did not, however, venture to stand up, but lying his length on the ground, gazed around him. the dark walls of the old castle rose up on one side. on the other, at the bottom of a steep bank, was the moat, partly filled up, however, with rubbish. beyond, another bank had to be climbed, and beyond that again was the wild open country, the castle being just outside the walls of the town. he quickly formed his plan. slowly crawling on, he slid down the bank, and then stopped to see what course he should take. there appeared to be no sentries on the watch on that side of the castle, it being supposed probably that escape of any prisoners was impossible. he was thus able more boldly to search for a passage across the moat. the night was cloudy and the wind blew strong, which, though he was in consequence not so well able to find his way, prevented him being seen or heard. at length, partly wading and partly scrambling over the rubbish, he reached the opposite bank. he waited to rest, that he might the more rapidly spring up the bank. he gained the top, when looking back and seeing no one, he hurried along the open ground. he stopped not till he had obtained the shelter of some brushwood, which formed, as it were, the outskirts of the forest. he was well aware that, as at daylight his escape would be discovered, and that he could easily be tracked, he must make the best speed his strength would allow. he knew the country so well that he had no difficulty in finding his way even in the dark. he could not, however, venture to return to his own cottage. there was no lack of hiding-places where he might remain till the search after him had somewhat slackened. at length, weary from his exertion, and having overrated his strength, he sat himself down to rest, as he thought in safety, for a few minutes. his eyelids closed in slumber, and, unconsciously to him, hour after hour had passed away. the sound of horns and the cries of huntsmen were heard in the forest. they awoke old moretz from his sleep. he started up, but it was too late to conceal himself. a horseman in a rich costume, which showed his rank, was close to him. "whither away, old friend?" he exclaimed, as moretz instinctively endeavoured to conceal himself in some brushwood near at hand. he stopped on hearing the voice of the huntsman. "my lord," he answered, "i throw myself upon your mercy. i am guiltless of any crime, and was cast unjustly into prison, from which i have made my escape. if i am retaken, my life will be forfeited." "that is strange," exclaimed the nobleman. "i will do my best to protect you, but i cannot venture to dispute with the law, as i might have done once on a time. as we came along we met a gang of persons, hunting, they told us, for an escaped prisoner. there is no time to be lost. here!" and the nobleman called to one of his attendants, a tall man, very similar in figure to the woodcutter. "here; change dresses with my old friend, and do you, as you are a bold forester and a strong, active young man, climb up into the thickest tree, and hide yourself as best you can till these hunters of their fellow-men have passed by." the nobleman's orders were speedily obeyed, and moretz, dressed in his livery, mounted the groom's horse and rode on with the party. the groom, meantime, who had put on the old man's clothes, affording no small amusement to his companions, climbed up into a thick tree, as he had been directed to do by his master. "we will send thee a livery, my man, in which thou may'st return home soon, and satisfy thy hunger, which may be somewhat sharpened by longer abstinence than usual," said the count, as he rode on. scarcely had these arrangements been made, when the party from the gaol in search of the fugitive came up. "has the count furstenburg seen an old man in a woodcutter's dress wandering through the forest?" inquired their leader, in a tone which sounded somewhat insolent. "the count furstenburg is not accustomed to answer questions unless respectfully asked," replied the noble; "and so, master gaoler, you must follow your own devices, and search for your prisoner where you may best hope to find him." then sounding his horn, he and his whole party rode on together through the forest, taking care to keep old moretz well in their midst. making a wide circuit, the count led them back to the castle. chapter seven. the woodcutter's astonishment at hearing who had rescued him, and where he was to find shelter, was very great. he had always entertained a great dread of the count, who, from common report, was looked upon as a cruel tyrant. the count's first care on reaching the castle was to send a servant with a livery in which the groom might return home, directing him in the same package to bring back the old woodcutter's clothes. he gave him also another message: it was to visit the cottage on his return, and to give little meta and karl the joyous information that their grandfather was out of prison and in safe keeping. "and now, my friend, i will have a few words with you in my private room," said the count, as the old man stood, cap in hand, gazing at him with astonishment. "i know you better than you suppose," he said, as moretz entered the room; and he told him of the interview he had had with his grandchildren. "i rejoice to see the way in which you are bringing them up. how is it you have taught them so to love the bible? do you know about it yourself?" moretz seeing no cause for concealment, told the count of the visit of gottlieb spena, the book-hawker. "that is strange indeed," said the count. "from the same gottlieb spena i also, my friend, have learned the same glorious truths. you have, i doubt not, always heard me spoken of as a bad, cruel man. so i was, but i have been changed. god has found me out, and in his love and mercy has showed me the way by which i may escape the punishment most justly due to my misdeeds; and not only that, but due also to me had i never committed one-tenth part of the crimes of which i have been guilty." it was strange to hear the once proud count thus speaking to the humble woodcutter, as to a brother or a friend. for many weeks the old man was sheltered safely within the walls of the castle. not only had the count, but all his house, abandoned the faith of rome, many of them having truly accepted the offers of salvation. at length, so widely had spread the doctrines of the reformation, that the authorities at hornberg no longer ventured to persecute those who professed it, and moretz did not, therefore, require the count's protection. meta and karl had remained at the cottage, notwithstanding the threats of herr herder. every day, however, they had been expecting to receive another order to quit their home. one morning, as they were seated at breakfast, before karl went out to his work, a knock was heard at the door. karl ran to it, wondering who it could be at that early hour. a shriek of joy escaped meta's lips as, the door opening, she saw her grandfather, and the next instant she and karl were pressed in his arms. great changes had of late taken place in germany, and the authorities who had imprisoned moretz no longer ventured to proceed as they had before done. the peasants, oppressed for centuries by the owners of the soil, and treated like slaves, had long been groaning for the blessings of civil liberty. on several occasions they had revolted against their lords, but their rebellions had always been put down with bloodshed and fearful cruelties. once more the same desire to emancipate themselves had sprung up in all parts of the country. this desire did not arise in consequence of the progress of the reformation. it had existed before, and luther and the other reformers who had been aware of it had used every means to induce the people to bear their burdens, and to wait till, in god's good time, a better heart should be put into their rulers, and they should be induced to grant them that liberty which was theirs by right. unhappily, however, men are too fond of attempting to right themselves rather than trust to god. while, as has been said, this desire for civil liberty was extending, so also was the reformation making great progress. many abandoned popery without embracing the gospel, and these were the people especially who desired to right themselves by the sword. scarcely had old moretz returned to his hut, than he was visited by several of the peasants, small farmers and others, who came to urge him to join the band they were forming in the neighbourhood. his imprisonment and its cause had become known, as had also the way he had escaped. among others, greatly to his surprise, his old enemy, johann herder, rode up to his door. "we were foes once, but i wish to be your foe no longer, and i have come to invite you to join our noble cause." "i am thankful to see you, master herder," said moretz, "but i cannot promise to join any cause without knowing its objects." "they are very simple," answered his guest. "we consider that all men are equal. we wish to right ourselves, and to deprive our tyrants of their power." "but if they refuse to agree to your demands, how then will you proceed?" asked moretz. "we will burn their castles and their towns, and put them to death," was the answer. "that surely is not the way to induce people to act rightly," answered moretz. "the bible nowhere says that we should not be soldiers, but the gospel does say very clearly that we should do violence to no man--that we should love our enemies and do good to them that persecute us. burning houses and putting people to death is not in accordance with the will of god: of that i am sure." "but the gospel gives us freedom, and we have accepted the gospel, and therefore have a right to liberty," answered herder. "the liberty of which the gospel speaks is very different from that which you desire, my friend," said moretz. "the freedom which that gives us is freedom from superstition, from the tyranny of satan, from the fear of man, from the dread of the misfortunes and sufferings to which people are liable. no, friend herder, i cannot join you." much more was said on both sides. moretz remained firm; and herder went away, indignant that one to whom he had offered to be reconciled--very much against his own feelings--should have refused to join what, in his smaller knowledge of the gospel plan, he considered right and justifiable. herder had become a protestant, and knew enough about the truth to be aware that christians are bound to forgive their enemies. he also was convinced that the saints cannot hear prayer, that purgatory is a fiction, and that confession should be made to god and not to man. but he had no grace in his heart. he prided himself greatly on having visited old moretz and expressed himself ready to become his friend. moretz, on the other hand, had accepted not only the letter but the spirit of the gospel. he knew himself by nature to be a sinner. he had given his heart to god. he desired to please him by imitating the example of his blessed son, and he trusted for salvation alone to the complete and perfect sacrifice made on the cross. moretz soon found that the proposed rebellion had commenced in various districts, and that already several peasant bands had proceeded to acts of violence. immediately he thought that the castle of the count of furstenburg might be attacked, and he accordingly set out to warn him of the danger. had he been able to write he would have sent karl, but he was sure that his warning would more likely be attended to if he went himself. he was aware that he ran a great danger if he were to encounter any of the peasants, who would look upon him, should they discover his object, as a traitor to their cause. he therefore made his way across the country, avoiding all public paths, and keeping as much as possible out of sight of anybody he met. he at length reached the castle in safety. the count could at first scarcely believe the information he gave him. it was impossible that the peasants should dare attack the castles of the nobles. moretz convinced him, however, at last. he sat for some time without speaking, while he rested his head on his hands, bending over the table. his lips were moving in prayer. "i will not oppose these poor people," he said, at length. "i will rather reason with them, and bring them to a knowledge of their error. if i were to defend the castle i might kill a good many, and perhaps succeed in driving them away. if i cannot persuade them to give up their enterprise, i may perhaps come and pay you a visit. i would rather abandon my castle than slay my fellow-creatures. i am grateful to you, my friend, for bringing me the warning, as it will give me time for consideration how to act." chapter eight. moretz returned, as he had come, to his cottage. karl soon after arrived, having gone out into the forest for wood. he reported having seen large bodies of men armed in every possible way collecting at a distance, but he kept himself out of sight, for fear they might compel him to accompany them. in the meantime the count remained, as he had determined, at his post. the day after moretz had visited him, the report was brought that a large body of men were approaching the castle. acting according to his resolution, in the plainest dress he ever wore he mounted his charger and rode forward to meet them. as he appeared he was welcomed with a loud shout, and several persons, detaching themselves from the crowd, approached him. "we have come, friend furstenburg," they said, "to invite you to join our noble cause. we will give you military rank, and make you one of our leaders; but we can allow no nobles among us, and therefore it must be understood that you will sink your title." "this is a strange proposal to make to me, my friends," answered the count, after the insurgents had explained their objects and plans. "you profess to be guided by god's word, and yet you undertake to act in direct opposition to it. when the israelites were led forth to attack their enemies they were under the guidance of god, and made especial instruments for the punishment of evil-doers, who had long obstinately refused to acknowledge him. you, who have no right to claim being led by god, take upon yourselves to punish those whom you choose to consider your enemies. when christ came a better law was established, and by that law we are taught to forgive our enemies, and leave their punishment to god, and not to attempt to take it into our own hands." again and again the insurgent leaders urged the count to accept their offers, refusing to listen to his arguments. he saw, by the gestures and the expressions they used, that they would probably take him by force. to avoid this was very important, and he therefore requested further time to consider the matter. some of them evidently desired to enter the castle with him, but this he declined; observing that if he was to act freely, he must be left at liberty. fortunately they were persuaded to allow him to depart, and he safely reached the gates of his castle. the insurgents on this marched off in the direction of other castles, whose owners they hoped to enlist in their cause. the count, on entering, ordered the gates to be closed, and then summoning his retainers, told them that he had resolved to abandon the castle, rather than kill any of the misguided people who might come to attack it. he gave them their choice of remaining within the open gates, or obtaining safety by concealing themselves in the neighbourhood. "i have no children, and my distant heir has no right to blame me for my conduct," he said, when remonstrated with for this proceeding. "i have, besides, one to whom i am first answerable, and he i am sure approves of it." there was, however, a large amount of plate and valuables of various sorts in the castle: these he had carried to a place of concealment, such as most buildings of the sort in those days were provided with. these arrangements were not concluded till nearly midnight. he then set out unaccompanied, and took his way to the hut of old moretz. the next day, when the insurgents returned, they found the castle of furstenburg deserted. some of their leaders urged them to burn it to the ground, in consequence of having been tricked, by its owner. they were about to rush in, when an old man, who had remained concealed close to the gates, presented himself before them. "what are you about to do, my friends?" he exclaimed. "is this the way you show your love of liberty? because a man does not approve of your mode of proceeding, are you right in destroying his property, and injuring him in every way you can? you speak of the tyranny of your rulers--is not this greater tyranny? i am one of yourselves, and know what you all feel. i feel the same. i desire that our people should have their rights; but i am very sure that by the way you are proceeding you will not obtain them. a just cause cannot be supported by unjust means." moretz, for it was he, spoke more to the same effect. happily, herder was not with the party, or his success might have been different. at length they were convinced by his arguments, and consented to depart without destroying the castle. after they had gone to a considerable distance, moretz hurried back to the count with the good news. "alas!" said the old noble, "it matters, in truth, but little to me. i am childless, and almost friendless; for with those i once associated i have no longer a desire to mix; and, except that i may live a few years longer, and forward the noble cause of the reformation, i should be ready even now to lay down life." "count," said the old man, rising and standing before him, "you say that you are childless--but are you really so? you once had a daughter?" "i had, but i cruelly drove her from my door; but i know that she is dead; for, having taken every possible means for her discovery, i could gain no tidings; and i am very sure, knowing her disposition, that ere this, had she been alive, she would have sought a reconciliation. of the death of her husband i received tidings. he died fighting in the spanish army against barbarossa, and on hearing that my child was left a widow, my heart relented towards her. but tell me, friend, have you any tidings of my daughter?" "you surmise too rightly, count, that your daughter is dead," answered the woodcutter. "she died in this humble cottage, and in these arms; but before she died she had given birth to a child,--a girl,--who was brought up by my poor daughter, till she herself was also carried to the grave, leaving behind her a son,--young karl yonder." "and my grandchild? where is she?" exclaimed the count, casting a glance at meta. "you see her there, count," answered the woodcutter. they were seated in the porch of the cottage. below it ran a stream, where meta, aided by karl, was busily washing. the first thing, perhaps, in the once proud noble's mind was:-- "and can a descendant of mine be thus employed?" the next instant, however, rising from his seat, he hurried down the bank, calling meta to him. she was quickly by his side. "child," he said, "which of us is your grandfather, think you?" as he spoke he drew her towards him, and gazed in her face. "yes, yes, i recognise the features of my own lost daughter!" he exclaimed. "we will ever love old moretz, and be grateful to him," he said, pressing a kiss on meta's brow. "but i am your grandfather, and you must try and give me some of the love you bear him." again and again the count expressed his gratitude to old moreu. "and above all things," he added, "that you have brought her up as a true christian protestant. had you returned her to me as an ignorant papist, as i was long ago, my happiness would have been far less complete." it was some time before meta could understand the change in her circumstances, never having indeed been told who was her mother, and believing always that she was karl's sister. the poor lad was the only one whose spirits sunk at what he heard, when he was told that he should lose his companion. a right feeling, however, soon rose in his bosom, and he rejoiced at meta's change of fortune. the peasant-army meantime increased in numbers, and a vast concourse, under a fanatical leader, thomas munser, marched through the land, burning castles and towns which refused to admit them, and committing all sorts of atrocities. there were several similar bands. the people in the black forest rallied round john muller of bulgenbach. wearing a red cap and a red cloak, he rode from village to village, ordering the church bells to summon the people to his standard. several noblemen were compelled to join them. among others, the famous geotz von ber lichengen was forced to put himself at the head of the rebel army. many towns, unable to withstand them, opened their gates, and the citizens received them with acclamations. dr martin luther and many other leaders of the reformation exerted all their influence to induce the peasants to return to their homes. they wrote, they preached, and showed how such proceedings were opposed to the principles of the gospel. at length a large army, raised by the ex-emperor of germany, was sent against the insurgents, while the nobles, in every direction taking courage, banded together to put down the insurrection. fearfully did they retaliate on the unhappy people for the insults they had received. seldom could the insurgent bands withstand the well-trained forces sent against them, and a large part of the country was deluged in blood, the fugitives in most instances being slaughtered without mercy. chapter nine. the band which set forth from the neighbourhood of gutech was not more successful than others. although at first they captured and burned a number of castles and entered several towns, in which they levied contributions from the inhabitants, they at length encountered the imperial forces. not an instant could they withstand the well-trained troops of germany, but fled before them like chaff before the wind. on reaching the neighbourhood of their own homes they, gathering courage, showed a bolder front than before. it would have been happier for the misguided men had they continued their flight. old moretz would not consent to eat the bread of idleness, and had declined the bounty freely offered him by the count. he and karl had gone farther from home than usual on their daily avocation, when their ears were attracted by what appeared to be the din of battle in the distance. they climbed a height in the neighbourhood, whence, from between the trees, they could look down on an open space in the distance, with a rapid stream on one side. here a large body of peasants were collected, while another body in front were desperately engaged with some imperial troops, as they appeared to be by their glittering arms and closely serried ranks. "may god have mercy on them!--for they will have no mercy on each other," exclaimed moretz, as, leaning his hand on karl's shoulder, he stood gazing eagerly down on the raging fight, and scarcely able to retain the young lad, who, had he been alone, would probably have rushed down and joined it. the peasants who had hitherto borne the brunt of the battle--being evidently the best armed and bravest--were now driven back on the main body. the latter, seized with a panic, gave way, the imperialists pursuing them, cutting to pieces with their sharp swords, or running through with their pikes, all they overtook. moretz and his grandson watched the fugitives and their pursuers. the latter, like a devastating conflagration or a fierce torrent, swept all before them, till they disappeared in the distance. "we may be able to help some of the unfortunate people who may yet survive," observed the old man. "oh, yes--yes. let us hurry on, grandfather," exclaimed karl. "i fancy that even at this distance i have seen more than one attempt to rise, and then fall back again to the ground." moretz and karl soon reached the spot where the conflict began. from thence, far, far away, was one long broad road covered thickly with the dead and dying and badly wounded. the old man and boy moved among the ghastly heaps, giving such assistance as they were able to those who most needed it. karl ran to the stream to bring water, for which many were crying out, while moretz, kneeling down, bound up the poor fellows' wounds. he had thus tended several of the unfortunate men, when he saw a person at a little distance trying to lift himself up on his arm. he had several times made the attempt, when he once more fell back with a groan. moretz hurried towards him. in the features, pallid from loss of blood and racked with pain, he recognised those of herr herder. "ah, old man! have you come to mock at me?" exclaimed the latter, as he saw moretz approaching. moretz made no answer, but kneeling down, lifted up the farmer's head, and put the bowl of water he carried to his lips. herder eagerly took a draught of the refreshing liquid. "where are you hurt?" asked moretz, "that i may wash and bind up your wounds." herder pointed to his side and then to one of his legs. aided by karl, who now came up, moretz took off herder's clothes, and with the linen which he had collected from the slain, having first washed his wounds, he bound them carefully up. "we must carry you out of this, for the imperialists returning, will too likely kill all they find alive," said moretz. "you cannot carry me," said herder, faintly: "you would sink under my weight." "i will try," answered moretz. "karl will help me." with a strength of which the old man seemed incapable, he lifted the bulky form of the farmer on his shoulders, and telling karl to support his wounded leg, he hurried towards the hill from which he had lately descended. "but you can never carry me up that hill," said herder, as he gazed at the height above their heads. "no," answered moretz; "but there is a cave near its foot. i can there conceal you till your enemies have gone away; and i will then get some friend to assist me in carrying you to my hut. you will be safe in the cave, at all events, for few know of it; and as soon as the soldiers have disappeared i will get the assistance of a friend to carry you on." old moretz, as he staggered on, had several times to stop and recover strength, for the farmer's body was very heavy. at length, however, he reached the cavern he spoke of. having deposited his burden, and left karl to watch him, he climbed the height, whence he could observe the proceedings of the imperialists. he had not long to wait. as he had seen them advancing like a rushing torrent, now they returned like the ebb of the ocean. as he had feared, they appeared to be slaughtering those they found still stretched alive on the ground. on they went, till there were none to kill, and then, the trumpet collecting them in more compact order, they marched onwards in the direction whence they had come. moretz, having found a neighbour in whom he had confidence, he returned to the cavern, and together they carried herder up to his cottage. "i have but poor fare to offer you, herr herder," he said, "but such as it is i freely present it to you." "what makes you thus take care of me?" said herder, scarcely noticing the remark. "i never did you any good. i have been your enemy for many years." "god's blessed word says--`love your enemies, do good to them who hate and ill-use you.' if you had treated me far worse than you have done, still i should desire to help you." "ah! you conquer me, moretz," said herder, after a long silence. "i have no doubt that the bible says as you tell me; but i did not think that any one would thus act according to its commands." "nor would they," answered moretz, "unless the holy spirit had changed their hearts. the natural man may read the commands over and over again, but he takes no heed of them." thus moretz frequently spoke to his guest. karl also often read the bible to him. one day they received a visit from gottlieb spena. he was on his way to the castle of furstenburg. before he left the woodcutter's hut herder declared that he now understood how christ had died to save him from the just consequences of his sin. meta grew into a noble-looking young lady, and married a protestant baron, who ever stood up boldly for the faith. she never forgot her kind guardian nor her foster-brother--karl. she provided a comfortable house for old moretz, and watched over him affectionately till, in extreme old age, he quitted this world for one far better. karl became the head steward of her estates, and ever proved himself a true and faithful man, as he had been an honest and good boy. spena was greatly instrumental in spreading the glorious truths of the gospel throughout the country, but at length, venturing into a part of europe where the papists were supreme, he was seized and accused of being a recreant monk. refusing to abjure the faith, he--as were many others at that time--was condemned to the flames, and became one of the noble army of martyrs who will one day rise up in judgment against that fearful system of imposture and tyranny which condemned them to suffering and death. there was one district where the insurrection was put down without bloodshed. it was that of the truly pious and protestant prince, the elector of saxony. the power of the word there produced its effect. luther, friedrich myconius, and others went boldly among them, and, by their eloquent arguments, induced them to abandon their designs. thus, at length, peace was restored to the land of luther, although these proceedings of the misguided peasants for a time greatly impeded the progress of the reformation. the end. the king's daughters, how two girls kept the faith, by emily sarah holt. ________________________________________________________________________ you will enjoy this book about the time when mary was queen of england, following the rise of protestantism during henry the eighth's and edward the sixth's reigns. mary was a catholic, and during her reign there was a time when people with the protestant faith were apt to be tortured and burnt at the stake. so the king of the title is the king of heaven, and his daughters are those women who retain their faith even up to the moment when they die in the flames. the subtitle is "how two girls kept the faith". the problem with killing saintly mothers is that they may leave young children behind them, and a great deal of this book deals with the three young children of one such woman. the edition used was not registered in the copyright library, but it appears to have been a rather badly printed pirated version. it was not an easy job to create this e-book, but i believe the author would approve of what we have done for you. ________________________________________________________________________ the king's daughters, how two girls kept the faith, by emily sarah holt. chapter one. choosing a new gown. "give you good den, master clere!" said a rosy-faced countrywoman with a basket on her arm, as she came into one of the largest clothier's shops in colchester. it was an odd way of saying "good evening," but this was the way in which they said it in . the rosy-faced woman set down her basket on the counter, and looked round the shop in the leisurely way of somebody who was in no particular hurry. they did not dash and rush and scurry through their lives in those days, as we do in these. she was looking to see if any acquaintance of hers was there. as she found nobody she went to business. "could you let a body see a piece of kersey, think you? i'd fain have a brown or a good dark murrey 'd serve me--somewhat that should not show dirt, and may be trusted to wear well.--good den, mistress clere!--have you e'er a piece o' kersey like that?" master nicholas clere, who stood behind the counter, did not move a finger. he was a tall, big man, and he rested both hands on his counter, and looked his customer in the face. he was not a man whom people liked much, for he was rather queer-tempered, and as mistress clere was wont to remark, "a bit easier put out than in." a man of few words, but those were often pungent, was nicholas clere. "what price?" said he. "well! you mustn't ask me five shillings a yard," said the rosy-faced woman, with a little laugh. that was the price of the very best and finest kersey. "shouldn't think o' doing," answered the clothier. "come, you know the sort as 'ill serve me. shilling a yard at best. if you've any at eightpence--" "haven't." "well, then i reckon i must go a bit higher." "we've as good a kersey at elevenpence," broke in mrs clere, "as you'd wish to see, alice mount, of a summer day. a good brown, belike, and not one as 'll fade--and a fine thread--for the price, you know. you don't look for kersey at elevenpence to be even with that at half-a-crown, now, do you? but you'll never repent buying this, i promise you." mrs clere was not by any means a woman of few words. while she was talking her husband had taken down the kersey, and opened it out upon the counter. "there!" said he gruffly: "take it or leave it." there were two other women in the shop, to whom mrs clere was showing some coarse black stockings: they looked like mother and daughter. while alice mount was looking at the kersey, the younger of these two said to the other-- "isn't that alice mount of bentley?--she that was had to london last august by the sheriffs for heresy, with a main lot more?" "ay, 'tis she," answered the mother in an undertone. "twenty-three of them, weren't there?" "thereabouts. they stood to it awhile, if you mind, and then they made some fashion of submission, and got let off." "so they did, but i mind master maynard said it was but a sorry sort. he wouldn't have taken it, quoth he." the other woman laughed slightly. "truly, i believe that, if he had a chance to lay hold on 'em else. he loves bringing folk to book, and prison too." "there's margaret thurston coming across," said the younger woman, after a moment's pause. "i rather guess she means to turn in here." when people say "i guess" now, we set them down at once as americans; but in everybody in england said it. our american cousins have kept many an old word and expression which we have lost. see note two. in another minute a woman came in who was a strong contrast to alice mount. instead of being small, round, and rosy, she was tall and spare, and very pale, as if she might have been ill not long before. she too carried a basket, but though it was only about half as large as alice's, it seemed to try her strength much more. "good den, neighbour!" said alice, with a pleasant smile. "good den, alice. i looked not to find you here. what come you after?" "a piece of kersey for my bettermost gown this summer. what seek you?" "well, i want some linsey for mine. go you on, and when you've made an end i'll ask good master clere to show me some, without mistress clere's at liberty sooner." alice mount was soon satisfied. she bought ten yards of the brown kersey, with some black buckram to line it, and then, as those will who have time to spare, and not much to occupy their thoughts, she turned her attention to helping margaret thurston to choose her gown. but it was soon seen that margaret was not an easy woman to satisfy. she would have striped linsey; no, she wouldn't, she would have a self colour; no, she wouldn't, she would have a little pattern; lastly, she did not know which to have! what did master clere think? or what would alice recommend her? master clere calmly declined to think anything about it. "take it or leave it," said he. "you'll have to do one or t'other. might as well do it first as last." margaret turned from one piece to another with a hopelessly perplexed face. there were three lying before her; a plain brown, a very dark green with a pretty little pattern, and a delicate grey, striped with a darker shade of the same colour. "brown's usefullest, maybe," said she in an uncertain tone. "green's none so bad, though. and that grey's proper pretty--it is a gentlewoman's gown. i'd like that grey." the grey was undoubtedly ladylike, but it was only fit for a lady, not for a working man's wife who had cooking and cleaning to do. a week of such work would ruin it past repair. "you have the brown, neighbour," said alice. "it's not the prettiest, maybe, but it 'll look the best when it's been used a while. that grey 'll never stand nought; and the green, though it's better, 'll not wear even to the brown. you have the brown now." still margaret was undecided. she appealed to mrs clere. "why, look you," responded that talkative lady, "if you have yonder green gown, you can don it of an even when your master comes home from work, and he'll be main pleased to see you a-sitting in the cottage door with your bit o' needlework, in a pretty green gown." "ay, so he will!" said margaret, suddenly making up as much mind as she had. "i thank you mistress clere. i'll have the green, master clere, an' it please you." now, alice mount had offered a reason for choosing the brown dress, and mrs clere had only drawn a picture; but margaret was the sort of woman to be influenced by a picture much more than by a solid reason. so the green linsey was cut off and rolled up--not in paper: that was much too precious to be wasted on parcels of common things. it was only tied with string, and each woman taking her own package, the two friends were about to leave the shop, when it occurred to mrs mount to ask a question. "so you've got bessy foulkes at last, mistress clere?" "ay, we have, alice," was the answer. "and you might have said, `at long last,' trow. never saw a maid so hard to come by. i could have got twenty as good maids as she to hire themselves, while bess was thinking on it." "she should be worth somewhat, now you have her, if she took such work to come by," observed margaret thurston. "oh, well, she'll do middling. she's a stirring maid over her work: but she's mortal quiet, she is. not a word can you get out of her without 'tis needed. and for a young maid of nineteen, you know, that's strange fashions." "humph!" said master nicholas, rolling up some woollen handkerchiefs. "the world 'd do with another or twain of that fashion." "now, nicholas, you can't say you get too much talk!" exclaimed his wife turning round. "why amy and me, we're as quiet as a couple of mice from morning till night. aren't we now?" "can't i?" said nicholas, depositing the handkerchiefs on a shelf. "well, any way, you've got no call to it. nobody can say i talk too much, that i know: nor yet amy." "you know, do you?" said her husband coolly. "well, then, i need not to say it." "now, neighbours, isn't that too bad?" demanded mrs clere, as nicholas moved away to attend to another customer. "i never was a rattle, not i. but 'tis right like men: they take in their heads that all women be talkers, and be as still as you will, they shall write you down a chatterbox. well, now, can't i tempt you with nought more? stockings, or kerchiefs, or a knitted cap? well, then, good den. i don't so well like the look of them clouds yonder; we shall have rain afore night, take my word for it. farewell!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ mulberry-colour, much like that we call plum-colour or prune. note . they say, "i want to _have you go_," when we should say, "i want _you, to go_." queen elizabeth would have used the former expression. chapter two. who took care of cissy? the clothier's shop which we entered in the last chapter was in balcon or balkerne lane, not far from its northern end. the house was built, as most houses then were, with the upper storey projecting beyond the lower, and with a good deal of window in proportion to the wall. the panes of glass were very small, set in lead, and of a greenish hue; and the top of the house presented two rather steeply sloped gables. houses in that day were more picturesque than they have been for the last two hundred years, though they have shown a tendency in recent times to turn again in that direction. over master clere's door--and over every door in the street--hung a signboard, on which some sign was painted, each different from the rest, for signs then served the purpose of numbers, so that two alike in the same street would have caused confusion. as far as eye could see ran the gaily-painted boards--blue lion, varied by red, black, white, and golden lions; white hart, king's head, golden hand, vine, wheelbarrow, star, cardinal's hat, crosskeys, rose, magpie, saracen's head, and katherine wheel. master nicholas clere hung out a magpie: why, he best knew, and never told. his neighbours sarcastically said that it was because a magpie lived there, meaning mistress clere, who was considered a chatterbox by everybody except herself. our two friends, margaret thurston and alice mount, left the shop together, with their baskets on their arms, and turning down a narrow lane to the left, came out into high street, down which they went, then along wye street, and out at bothal's gate. they did not live in colchester, but at much bentley, about eight miles from the town, in a south-easterly direction. "i marvel," said margaret, as the two pursued their way across the heath, "how bessy foulkes shall make way with them twain." "do you so?" answered alice. "truly, i marvel more how she shall make way with the third." "what, mistress amy?" alice nodded. "but why? there's no harm in her, trow?" "she means no harm," said alice. "but there's many an one, meg, as doesn't mean a bit of harm, and does a deal for all that. i'm feared for bessy." "but i can't see what you're feared for." "these be times for fear," said alice mount. "neighbour, have you forgot last august?" "eh! no, trust me!" cried margaret. "didn't i quake for fear, when my master came in, and told me you were taken afore the justices! truly, i reckoned he and i should come the next. i thank the good lord that stayed their hands!" "'tis well we be on the heath," said alice, glancing round, as if to see whether they could be overheard. "if we spake thus in the streets of colchester, neighbour, it should cost us dear." "well, i do hate to be so careful!" "folks cannot have alway what they would," said alice, "but you know, neighbour, bessy foulkes is one of us." "well, what then? so's master clere." alice made no answer. "what mean you, alice mount? master clere's a gospeller, and has been this eight years or more." "i did not gainsay it, meg." "nay, you might not gainsay it, but you looked as if you would if you opened your mouth." "well, neighbour, my brother at stoke nayland sells a horse by nows and thens: and the last time i was yonder, a gentleman came to buy one. there was a right pretty black one, and a bay not quite so well-looking. says the gentleman to gregory, `i'd fainer have the black, so far as looks go; but which is the better horse?' quoth gregory, `well, master, that hangs on what you mean to do with him. if you look for him to make a pretty picture in your park, and now and then to carry you four or five mile, why, he'll do it as well as e'er a one; but if you want him for good, stiff work, you'd best have the bay. the black's got no stay in him,' saith he. so, meg, that's what i think of master clere--he's got no stay in him. i doubt he's but one of your fair-weathered folks, that'll side with truth when she steps bravely forth in her satin gown and her velvet slippers; but when she comes in a threadbare gown and old clouted shoes, then she's not for their company. there's a many of that sort." "and you think master clere's one?" said margaret, in a tone which sounded as if she did not think so. "i'm feared he is. i'd not say it if there wasn't need. but if you see bess afore i do--and you are more like, for you go into town oftener--do drop a word to her to be prudent." "tell elizabeth foulkes to be prudent!" exclaimed margaret, laughing. "nay, that were carrying coals to newcastle!" "well, and the day may come for that, if the pits there be used up. meg, have you ne'er noted that folks oftener come to trouble for want of their chief virtue than from overdoing it?" "nay, alice, nor i don't think it, neither." "well, let be!" said alice, shifting the basket to her other arm. "them that lives 'll see it." "but what mean you touching mistress amy! you said you were feared she'd make trouble for bess." "ay, i am: but that's another matter. we've fault-found enough for one even. who be them two afore us?" "what, those bits of children? why, they're two of jack johnson's, of thorpe." "they look as if they'd got too much to carry," said alice, as they came up to the children. they were now about half way to bentley. the younger, a boy of about six, held one ear of a large jar full of meal, and the other was carried by his sister, whose apparent age was eight. they were plodding slowly along, as if afraid of spilling their meal, for the jar was pretty full. "well, cis, thou hast there a load!" was margaret's greeting. the little girl turned her head to see who spoke, but she only said gravely, "ay." a very grave, demure little maiden she seemed to be. "whither go you?" asked alice mount. "we're going home," said the small boy. "what, a matter of five miles, with that jar? why, you'll drop in the road! couldn't nobody have fetched it but you?" "there wasn't nobody," said the little boy; and his sister looked up to say, in her grave way,-- "you know mother's gone to heaven." "and who looks after you?" "will looks after baby," answered cissy demurely, "and i look after will." "and who looks after thee?" asked alice much amused. "i'm older than i look," replied cissy, drawing herself up; but she was not big enough to go far. "i'm nine--going in ten. i can make porridge, and clean the room and wash baby. and will's learning to wash himself, and then he'll be off my hands." it was irresistibly funny to hear this small mite talk like a woman, for she was very small of her age; and alice and margaret could not help laughing. "well, but thou knowest thou canst not do a many things that must be done. who takes care of you all? i dare be bound thou does thy best: but somebody there must be older than thee. who is it now?" "have you e'er an aunt or a grandmother?" added margaret. cissy looked up quietly into alice's face. "god takes care of us," she said. "father helps when his work's done; but when he's at work, god has to do it all. there's nobody but god." alice and margaret looked at each other in astonishment. "poor little souls!" cried margaret. "oh, but we aren't!" said cissy, rather more eagerly. "god looks after us, you know. he's sure to do it right, father says so." alice mount laid her hand softly on cissy's head. "ay, little maid, god will do it right," she said. "but maybe he'd let me help too, by nows and thens. thou knowest the black bear at much bentley--corner of lane going down to thorpe?" yes, cissy knew the black bear, as her face showed. "well, when thou gets to the black bear, count three doors down the lane, and thou'lt see a sign with a bell. that's where i live. thee rap at the door, and my daughter shall go along with you to thorpe, and help to carry the meal too. maybe we can find you a sup of broth or milk while you rest you a bit." "oh, thank you!" said cissy in her grown-up way. "that will be good. we'll come." chapter three. rose. "poor little souls!" repeated margaret thurston, when the children were out of hearing. alice mount looked back, and saw the small pair still toiling slowly on, the big jar between them. it would not have been a large jar for her to carry, but it was large and heavy too for such little things as these. "however will they get home!" said she. "nobody to look after them but `god and father'!" the moment she had said it, her heart smote her. was that not enough? if the lord cared for these little ones, did it matter who was against them? how many unseen angels might there be on that road, watching over the safety of the children, and of that homely jar of meal for their sakes? it was not the first time that angels had attended to springs of water and cakes baken on the coals. no angel would dream of stopping to think whether such work degraded him. it is only men who stoop low enough for that. the highest work possible to men or angels is just doing the will of god: and god was the father of these little ones. "what is their father?" asked alice mount. "johnson? oh, he is a labouring man--a youngish man, only four-and-thirty: his mistress died a matter of six months back, and truly i know not how those bits of children have done since." "they have had `god and father,'" said alice "well, i've no doubt he's a good father," answered margaret. "john johnson is as good a man as ever stepped, i'll say that for him: and so was helen a rare good woman. i knew her well when we were maids together. those children have been well fetched up, take my word for it." "it must have been a sad matter to lose such a wife," said alice. "well, what think you?" answered margaret, dropping her voice. "agnes love told me--jack love's wife, that dwells on the heath--you'll maybe know her?" "ay, i know her, though not well." "i've known her ever since she was a yard long. well, she told me, the even it happed came jack johnson to their house, and when she oped the door, she was fair feared of him, he looked so strange--his face all white, and such a glitter of his eyes--she marvelled what had taken him. and says he, `agnes, my helen's gone.' `gone? oh dear!' says she. `ay, she's gone, thank god!' says he. well, agnes thought this right strange talk, and says she, `jack johnson, what can you mean? never was a better woman than your helen, and you thanking god you've lost her!' `nay, agnes, could you think that?' says he. `i'm thanking god because now i shall never see her stand up on the waste by lexden road,' says he. `she's safe from that anguish for evermore!' and you know what that meant." yes, alice mount knew what that meant--that allusion to the waste ground by colchester town wall on the road to lexden, where the citizens shot their rubbish, and buried their dead animals, or threw them unburied, and burned their martyrs. it was another way of saying what the voice from heaven had cried to the apostle--"blessed are the dead that die in the lord from henceforth!" "it's a marvel they haven't done somewhat to them loves afore now," said margaret, after a minute's silence. "i thought they had?" replied alice. "wasn't john love up afore the sheriff once at any rate?" "oh, ay, they've had him twice o'er; don't you mind they gat them away in the night the last time, and all his goods was taken to the queen's use? but now, see, he's come back, and they let him alone. they've done all they mean to do, i reckon." "god grant it!" said alice, with a sigh. "meg, i cannot forget last august. twenty-two of us had up afore the bishop, and we only escaped by the very skin of our teeth, as saith job. ay me! i sometimes marvel if we did well or no, when we writ our names to that submission." "truly, neighbour, so have i," replied margaret rather bluntly. "i would not have set mine thereto, i warrant you." alice sighed heavily. "god knoweth we meant not to deny his truth," said she; "and he looketh on the heart." after that they were silent till they came to much bentley. turning down the lane which led to thorpe, they came in sight of a girl of twenty years, sitting on a low stool at the door of the third cottage in the lane, weaving worsted lace on a pillow with bobbins. over the door hung a signboard bearing a bell painted blue. the lace-maker was a small-built girl, not in any way remarkable to look at, with smooth dark hair, nicely kept, and a rosy face with no beauty about it, but with a bright, kind-hearted expression which was better than outside beauty. if a person accustomed to read faces had been there, he might perhaps have said that the small prominent chin, and the firm setting of the lips, suggested that rose allen occasionally had a will of her own. the moment that rose saw who was coming, she left her stool with a bright smile which lighted up all her face, and carrying the stool in one hand, and her lace pillow in the other, disappeared within the house. "she's quick at her work, yonder maid," said margaret. "ay, she's a good lass, my rose!" was her mother's answer. "you'll come in and sit a bit, neighbour?" "well, thank you, i don't mind if i do--at any rate till them children comes up," responded margaret, with a little laugh. "will you have me while then?" "ay, and as long after as you've a mind," said alice heartily, leading the way into her cottage. as margaret had a mile yet to walk, for she lived midway between much bentley and thorpe, she was glad of a rest. in the kitchen they found rose, very busy with a skillet over the fire. there was no tea in those days, so there was no putting on of the kettle: and rose was preparing for supper a dish of boiled cabbage, to which the only additions would be bread and cheese. in reply to her mother's questions, she said that her step-father had been in, but finding his wife not yet come from market, he had said that he would step into the next neighbour's until she came, and rose was to call him when supper was ready. william mount, the second husband of alice, was twenty years older than his wife, their ages being sixty-one and forty-one. he was a tall, grey, grave-looking man,--a field labourer, like most of the dwellers in much bentley. this was but a small place, nestling at one corner of the large park of the earl of oxford, the owner of all the property for some distance round. of course he was _the_ great man in the esteem of the much bentley people. during the reign of edward the sixth, when protestantism was in favour at court, lord oxford had been a protestant like other people; but, also like many other people, he was one of those of whom it has been well said that: "he's a slave who dare not be in the right with two or three." lord oxford was a slave in this sense--a slave to what other people said and thought about him--and very sad slavery it is. i would rather sweep a crossing than feel that i did not dare to say what i believed or disbelieved, what i liked or did not like, because other people would think it strange. it is as bad as being in egyptian bondage. yet there are a great many people quite contented to be slaves of this kind, who have not half so much excuse as lord oxford. if he went against the priests, who then were masters of everything, he was likely to lose his liberty and property, if not his life; while we may say any thing we like without need to be afraid. it is not always an advantage to have a great deal to lose. the poor labourers of much bentley, who had next to no property at all, and could only lose liberty and life, were far braver than the earl whom they thought such a grand man, and who carried a golden wand before the queen. supper was over at the blue bell, and margaret thurston was thinking about going home, when a little faint rap came on the door of the cottage. rose opened it, and saw a big jar standing on the door-sill, a little boy sitting beside it, and an older girl leaning against the wall. "please, we're come," said cissy. chapter four. on the way to thorpe. "please, we're come," said cissy. "we've been a good while getting here, but we--oh, it isn't you!" "what isn't me?" said rose, laughing--for people said _me_ where it should have been i, then, as they do still. "i rather think it is me; don't you?" "yes, but you are not she that spake to us on the road," said cissy. "somebody told us to call here as we went down the lane, and her daughter should go home with us, and help us to carry the big jar. perhaps you're the daughter?" "well, i guess i am," answered rose. "where's home?" "it's at the further end of thorpe." "all right. come in and rest you, and i'll fetch a sup of something to do you good, poor little white faces." rose took a hand of each and led them forward. "mother, here be two bits of maypoles," said she, "for they be scarce fatter; and two handfuls of snow, for they be scarce rosier--that say you promised them that i should go home with them and bear their jar of meal." "so i did, rose. bring them in, and let them warm themselves," answered mrs mount. "give them a sup of broth or what we have, to put a bit of life in them; and at after thou shalt bear them company to thorpe. poor little souls! they have no mother, and they say god looks after them only." "then i shall be in his company too," said rose softly. then, dropping her voice that the children might not hear, she added, "mother, there's only that drop of broth you set aside for breakfast; and it's scarce enough for you and father both. must i give them that?" alice mount thought a moment. she had spoken before almost without thinking. "daughter," she said, "if their father, which is also ours, had come with them visible to our eyes, we should bring forth our best for him; and he will look for us to do it for the little ones whose angels see his face. ay, fetch the broth, rose." perhaps cissy had overheard a few words, for wheel the bowl of broth was put into her hands, she said, "can you spare it? didn't you want it for something else than us?" "we can spare it, little maid," said alice, with a smile. "sup it up," added rose, laying her hand on the child's shoulder; "and much good may it do thee! then, when you are both warmed and rested, i'll set forth with you." cissy did not allow that to be long. she drank her broth, admonished will by a look to finish his--for he was disposed to loiter,--and after sitting still for a few minutes, rose and put down the bowl. "we return you many thanks," she said in her prim little way, "and i think, if you please, we ought to go home. father 'll be back by the time we get there; and i don't like to be away when he comes. mother bade me not. she said he'd miss her worse if he didn't find me. you see, i've got to do for mother now, both for father and the children." alice mount thought it very funny to hear this little mite talking about "the children," as if she were not a child at all. "well, tarry a minute till i tie on my hood," said rose. "i'll be ready before you can say, `this is the house that jack built.'" "what do you with the babe, little maid, when you go forth?" asked alice. "baby?" said cissy, looking up. "oh, we leave her with ursula felstede, next door. she's quite safe till we come back." rose now came in from the inner room, where she had been putting on her hood and mantle. there were no bonnets then. what women called bonnets in those days were close thick hoods, made of silk, velvet, fur, or woollen stuff of some sort. nor had they either shawls or jackets--only loose mantles, for out-door wear. rose took up the jar of meal. "please, i can carry it on one side," said cissy rather eagerly. "thou mayest carry thyself," said rose. "that's plenty. i haven't walked five miles to-day. i'm a bit stronger than thou, too." little will had not needed telling that he was no longer wanted to carry the jar; he was already off after wild flowers, as if the past five miles had been as many yards, though he had assured cissy at least a dozen times as they came along that he did not know how he was ever to get home, and as they were entering bentley had declared himself unable to take another step. cissy shook her small head with the air of a prophetess. "will shouldn't say such things!" said she. "he said he couldn't walk a bit further--that i should have to carry him as well as the jar--and i don't know how i could, unless i'd poured the meal out and put him in, and he'd never have gone, i'm sure; and now, do but look at him after those buttercups!" "he didn't mean to tell falsehoods," said rose. "he was tired, i dare say. lads will be lads, thou knowest." "oh dear, i don't know how i'm to bring up these children to be good people!" said cissy, as gravely as if she had been their grandmother. "ursula says children are great troubles, and i'm sure it's true. if there's any place where will should be, that's just where he always isn't; and if there's one spot where he shouldn't be, that's the place where you commonly find him. baby can't walk yet, so she's safe; but whatever i shall do when she can, i'm sure i don't know! i can't be in all the places at once where two of them shouldn't be." rose could not help laughing. "little maid," she said kindly, "thy small shoulders will never hold the world, nor even thy father's cottage. hast thou forgot what thou saidst not an half-hour gone, that god takes care of you all?" "oh yes, he takes big care of us," was cissy's answer. "he'll see that we have meat and clothes and so forth, and that father gets work. but he'll hardly keep will and baby out of mischief, will he? isn't that too little for him?" "the whole world is but a speck, little cicely, compared with him. if he will humble himself to see thee and me at all, i reckon he is as like to keep will out of mischief as to keep him alive. it is the very greatness of god that _he_ can attend to all the little things in the world at once. they are all little things to him. hast thou not heard that the lord jesus said the very hairs of our heads be numbered?" "yea, sir thomas read that one eve at ursula's." sir thomas tye was the vicar of much bentley. "well," said rose, "and isn't it of more importance to make will a good lad than to know how many hairs he's got on his head? wouldn't thy father think so?" "for sure he would," said cissy earnestly. "and isn't god thy father?" just as rose asked that, a tall, dark figure turned out of a lane they were passing, and joined them. it was growing dusk, but rose recognised the vicar of whom they had just been speaking. most priests were called "sir" in those days. "christ bless you, my children!" said the vicar. both rose and cissy made low courtesies, for great respect was then paid to a clergyman. they called them priests, for very few could read the bible, which tells us that the only priest is our lord jesus christ. a priest does not mean the same thing as a clergyman, though too many people thoughtlessly speak as if it did. a priest is a man who offers a sacrifice of some living thing to god. so, as jesus christ, who offered himself, is our sacrifice, and there can never be any other, there cannot be any priests now. there are a great many texts which tell us this, but i will only mention one, which you can look out in your bibles and learn by heart: the tenth verse of the tenth chapter of the epistle to the hebrews. it is easy to remember two tens. cissy was a little frightened when she saw that sir thomas walked on with them; but rose marched on as if she did not care whether he came or not. for about a year after queen mary's accession sir thomas had come pretty regularly to the prayer-meetings which were held sometimes at the blue bell, and sometimes at ursula felstede's at thorpe, and also sometimes at john love's on the heath. he often read the bible to them, and gave them little sermons, and seemed as kind and pleasant as possible. but when queen mary had been about a year on the throne, and it could be plainly seen which way things were going--that is, that she would try to bring back the popish religion which her brother had cast off--sir thomas began to come less often. he found it too far to john love's and to thorpe; and whenever the meeting was at the blue bell, which was only a few hundred yards from the vicarage,--well, it certainly was odd that sir thomas was always poorly on that night. still, nobody liked to think that he was making believe; but alice mount said so openly, and rose had heard her. chapter five. in difficulties. cissy johnson was not old enough to understand all the reasons why her father distrusted the priest; but she knew well that "father didn't like him," and like the dutiful little girl she was, she was resolved not to make a friend of any one whom her father disliked, for she knew that he might have good reasons which she could not understand. but cissy had been taught to be civil to everybody, and respectful to her betters-- lessons of which a little more would not hurt some folks in the present day. people make a great mistake who think that you cannot both be respectful to others and independent for yourself. the bible teaches us to do both. being in this state of mind, cissy was decidedly pleased to see her father coming up from the other end of the lane. "oh, here's father!" she said to rose; and little will ran on joyfully to meet him. "well, my lad!" was johnson's greeting to his boy. "so thou and cissy have got back? it's a right long way for such as thou." little will suddenly remembered that he was exceedingly tired, and said so. "thou'd better go to bed," said her father, as they came up with the girls. "well, cis, who hast thou picked up?--i'm right thankful to you," he added, looking at rose, "for giving my little maid a helping hand. it's a long way for such little ones, all the way from the heath, and a heavy load for little arms, and i'm main thankful. will you come in a bit and rest you?" he said to rose. but rose declined, for she knew her mother would expect her to come back at once. she kissed cissy, and told her, whenever she had a load to carry either way, to be sure she looked in at the blue bell, when rose would help her if she possibly could: and giving the jar to johnson, she bade him good-night, and turned back up the lane. sir thomas had walked on, as rose supposed: at any rate, he was not to be seen. she went nearly a mile without seeing any one, until margaret thurston's cottage came in sight. as rose began to go a little more slowly, she heard footsteps behind her, and the next minute she was joined--to her surprise--by the priest. "my daughter," he said, in a soft, kind voice, "i think thou art rose allen?" rose dropped a courtesy, and said she was. "i have been wishful to speak with some of thy father's household," said sir thomas, in the same gentle way: "so that i am fain to meet thee forth this even. tell me, my child, is there illness in the house or no?" rose breathed quickly: she guessed pretty well what was coming. "no, father," she answered; "we are all in good health, god be thanked for that same." "truly. i am glad to hear thee so speak, my daughter, and in especial that thou rememberest to thank god. but wherefore, then, being in good health, have ye not come to give thanks to god in his own house, these eight sundays past? ye have been regular aforetime, since ye were back from the bishop's court. surely it is not true--i do hope and trust it is not true, that ye be slipping yet again into your past evil ways of ill opinions and presumptuous sin?" the reason why the mounts had not been to church was because the services were such as they could no longer join in. queen mary had brought back the popish mass, and all the images which king edward had done away with; so that to go to church was not to worship god but to worship idols. and so terrible was the persecution mary had allowed to be set up, that the penalty for refusing to do this was to be burnt to death for what she called heresy. it was a terrible position for a young girl in which rose allen stood that night. this man not only held her life in his hands, but also those of her mother and her step-father. if he chose to inform against them, the end of it might be death by fire. for one moment rose was silent, during which she cried silently but most earnestly to god for wisdom and courage--wisdom to keep her from saying what might bring them into needless danger, and courage to stand true and firm to god and his truth. "might i be so bold as to pray you, father," she said at last, "to ask at my mother the cause of such absence from mass? you wot i am but a young maid, and under direction of mine elders." sir thomas tye smiled to himself. he thought rose a very cautious, prudent girl, who did not want to bring herself into trouble. "so be it, my daughter," said he in the same gentle way. "doubtless it was by direction of thine elders that then wert absent aforetime, ere ye were had up to the bishop." he meant it as a question, by which he hoped to entangle poor rose. she was wise enough not to answer, but to let it pass as if he were merely giving his own opinion, about which she did not wish to say anything. "crafty girl!" thought sir thomas. then he said aloud,--"the festival of our lady cometh on apace: ye will surely have some little present for our blessed lady?" the virgin mary was then called "our lady." "we be but poor folks," said rose. "truly, i know ye be poor folks," was the priest's reply. "yet even poor folks do oft contrive to pleasure their friends by some little present. and if ye might bring no more than an handful of daisies from the field, yet is our lady so gracious that she will deign to accept even so small an offering. ye need not be empty-handed." "i trust we shall do our duty," said poor rose, in great perplexity. "father, i cry you mercy if i stay me here, for i would fain speak with the woman of this cot." "so do, my daughter," was the soft reply, "and i will call here belike, for i do desire to speak with thurston." poor rose was at her wit's end. her little manoeuvre had not succeeded as she hoped. she wanted to be rid of the unwelcome company of the priest; and now it seemed as if, by calling on margaret thurston instead of going straight home, she would only get more of it. however, she must do it now. she had nothing particular to say to margaret, whom she had already seen that day, though her mother had said after margaret was gone, that she wished she had told her something, and rose meant to use this remark as furnishing an excuse. she tapped, lifted the latch, and went in, the priest following. john thurston sat by the fire cutting clothes-pegs; margaret was ironing clothes. thurston rose when he saw the priest, and both received him reverently. feeling that her best chance of escaping the priest was to proceed immediately, rose drew margaret aside, and told her what her mother had said; but margaret, who was rather fond of talking, had something to say too, and the precious minutes slid by. meanwhile the priest and thurston went on with their conversation: and at last rose, saying she really could not stay any longer, bade them good-bye, and went out. but just as margaret was opening the door to let her out, sir thomas said a few words in reply to thurston, which rose could not but overhear. "oh, master clere is a worthy man enough. if he hath gone somewhat astray in times past, that shall now be amended. mistress cicely, too, is an honest woman that wist how to do her duty. all shall be well there. i trust, john thurston, that thou shalt show thyself as wise and well ruled as he." rose heard no more. she passed out into the night, and ran nearly all the way home. "why, rose, how breathless art thou, maid!" said the other when she came in. "well i may, mother!" cried rose. "there is evil ahead for us, and that not a little. father tye overtook me as i came back, and would know of me why we had not been to mass these eight sundays; and i staved him off, and prayed him to ask of you. and, mother, he saith master clere the draper, though he have gone somewhat astray, is now returned to his duty, and you wot what that meaneth. and i am feared for us, and bessy too." "the good lord have mercy on us!" said alice mount. "amen!" responded william mount gravely. "but it had best be such mercy as he will, alice, not such as we would. on one matter i am resolved--i will sign no more submissions. i fear we have done it once too often." "o father, i'm so fain to hear you say it!" cried rose. "art thou so, daughter?" he answered a little sadly. "have a care thy quick tongue bring thee not into more trouble than need be. child, to refuse that submission may mean a fiery death. and we may not--we must not--shrink from facing death for him who passed through death for us. lord, grant us thy grace to stand true!" and william mount stood up with uncovered head, and looked up, as we all do instinctively when we speak to him who dwelleth in the heavens. "who hath abolished death!" was the soft response of alice. chapter six. rose asks a favour. "you'll not find no better, search all colchester through!" said mrs clere, to a fat woman who did not look particularly amiable, holding up some worsted florence, drab with a red stripe. "well, i'm not so sure," replied the cross-looking customer. "tomkins, now, in wye street, they showed me some kendal frieze thicker nor that, and a halfpenny less by the yard." "tomkins!" said mrs clere, in a tone not at all flattering to the despised tomkins. "why, if that man knows a kendal frieze from a piece of black satin, it's all you can look for. never bred up to the business, _he_ wasn't. and his wife's a poor good-for-nought that wouldn't know which end of the broom to sweep with, and his daughters idle, gossiping hussies that'll drive their husbands wild one o' these days. don't talk to me about tomkins!" and mrs clere turned over the piece of florence as roughly as if it had been tomkins instead of itself. "it was right good frieze," said the customer doubtfully. "then you'd better go and buy it," snapped mrs clere, whom something seemed to have put out that morning, for she was generally better-tempered than that. "well, but i'm not so sure," repeated the customer. "it's a good step to wye street, and i've lost a bit o' time already. if you'll take tenpence the ell, you may cut me off twelve." "tenpence the fiddlesticks!" said mrs clere, pushing the piece of worsted to one side. "i'll not take a farthing under the shilling, if you ask me while next week. you can just go to tomkins, and if you don't find you've got to darn his worthless frieze afore you've done making it up, why, my name isn't bridget clere, that's all. now, rose allen, what's wanting?" "an't please you, mistress clere, black serge for a girdle." "suit yourself," answered mistress clere, giving three pieces of serge, which were lying on the counter, a push towards rose. "well, audrey wastborowe, what are you standing there for? ben't you a-going to that tomkins?" "well, nay, i don't think i be, if you'll let me have that stuff at elevenpence the ell. come now, do 'ee, mistress clere!" "i'm not to be coaxed, i tell you. shilling an ell, and not a bit under." "well! then i guess i shall be forced to pay it. but you'll give me good measure?" "i'll give you as many ells as you give me shillings, and neither more nor less. twelve? very good." mrs clere measured off the florence, tied it up, received the twelve shillings, which audrey drew from her pocket as slowly as possible, perhaps fancying that mrs clere might relent, and threw it into the till as if the coins were severely to blame for something. audrey took up her purchase, and went out. "whatever's come to mistress clere?" asked a young woman who stood next to rose, waiting to be served. "she and audrey wastborowe's changed tempers this morrow." "something's vexed her," said rose. "i'm sorry, for i want to ask her a favour, when i've done my business." "she's not in a mood for favour-granting," said the young woman. "that's plain. you'd better let be while she's come round." "nay, i can't let be," whispered rose in answer. "now or never, is it? well, i wish you well through it." mistress clere, who had been serving another customer with an ounce of thread--there were no reels of thread in those days; it was only sold in skeins or large hanks--now came to rose and the other girl. "good-morrow, gillian mildmay! what's wanting?" "good-morrow, mistress clere! my mother bade me ask if you had a fine marble cloth, about five shillings the ell, for a bettermost gown for her." mrs clere spoke a little less crossly, but with a weary air. "marbled cloth's not so much worn as it was," she said; "but i have a fair piece that may serve your turn. it's more nor that, though. i couldn't let it go under five and eightpence." "mother'll want it better cheap than that," said gillian. "_i_ think that'll not serve her, mistress clere. but i want a pair of tawny sleeves, an't like you, wrought with needlework." sleeves, at this time, were not a part of the dress, but were buttoned in as the wearer chose to have them. gillian found these to suit her, paid for them, and went away. mrs clere turned to rose. "now, then, do be hasteful, rose allen; i'm that weary!" "you seem so in truth, mistress clere. i'm feared you've been overwrought," said rose, in a sympathising tone. "overwrought? ay, body and soul too," answered mrs clere, softening a little in response to rose's tone. "well! folks know their own troubles best, i reckon, and it's no good harrying other folks with them. what priced serge would you have?" "about eighteenpence, have you some?" "one and eightpence; and one and fourpence. the one-and-fourpenny's right good, you'll find." "thank you, i'll take the one-and-fourpenny: it'll be quite good enough for me. well, i was going to ask you a favour, mistress clere; but seeing you look so o'erwrought, i have no mind to it." "oh, it's all in the day's work. what would you?" asked mrs clere, rather more graciously. "well, i scarce like to tell you; but i _was_ meaning to ask you the kindness, if you'd give leave for bessy foulkes to pass next saint's day afternoon with us. if you could spare her, at least." "i can spare bessy foulkes uncommon well!" said mrs clere irascibly. "why, mistress clere! has bessy--" rose began in an astonished tone. mrs clere's servant, elizabeth foulkes, was her dearest friend. "you'd best give mistress elizabeth foulkes the go by, rose allen. she's a cantankerous, ill-beseen hussy, and no good company for you. she'll learn you to do as ill as herself, if you look not out." "but what has bessy done?" "gone into school-keeping," said mrs clere sarcastically. "expects her betters to go and learn their hornbook of her. set herself up to tell all the world their duty, and knows it a sight better than they do. that's what mistress elizabeth's done and doing. ungrateful hussy!" "i couldn't have thought it!" said rose, in a tone of great surprise, mixed with disappointment. "bessy's always been so good a maid--" "good! don't i tell you she's better than every body else? tell you what, rose allen, being good's all very well, but for a young maid to stick herself up to be better than her neighbours 'll never pay. i don't hold with such doings. if bess'd be content to be the best cook, or the best cleaner, in colchester, i'd never say nought to her; but she's not content; she'd fain be the best priest and the best school-master too. and that isn't her work, preaching isn't; dressing meat and scouring pans and making beds is what she's called to, and not lecturing folks at market cross." "has bessy been preaching at the market cross?" asked rose in genuine horror, for she took mrs clere's statements literally. "that's not while to-morrow," said mrs clere in the same sarcastic tone. "she's giving the lecture at home first, to get perfect. i promise you i'm just harried out of my life, what with one thing and another!" "well, i'd like to speak with bessy, if i might," said rose in some perplexity. "we've always been friends, bessy and me; and maybe she'd listen to me--or, any ways, to mother. could you kindly give leave for her to come, mistress clere?" "you may have her, and keep her, for all the good she is to me," answered the clothier's wife, moving away. "mind she doesn't give you the malady, rose allen: that's all i say! it's a fair infection going about, and the great doctors up to london 'll have to come down and look to it--see if they don't! oh, my lady can go if it like her--she's so grand now o' days i'm very nigh afeared of her. good-morrow!" and rose went out with her parcel, lost in wonder as to what could be the matter--first with mistress clere, and then with her friend elizabeth. chapter seven. the clouds begin to gather. "methinks that becomes me better. what sayest thou, bess?" two girls were standing in an upper room of nicholas clere's house, and the younger asked this question of the elder. the elder girl was tall, of stately carriage and graceful mien, with a very beautiful face: but her whole aspect showed that she thought nothing about herself, and never troubled her head to think whether she was pretty or ugly. the younger, who was about seventeen, was not nearly so handsome; but she would have been pleasant enough to look at if it had not been for a silly simper and a look of intensely satisfied vanity, which quite spoiled any prettiness that she might have had. she had just fastened a pair of ear-rings into her ears, and she was turning her head from one side to the other before the mirror, as she asked her companion's opinion of the ornaments. there are some savages--in polynesia, i think--who decorate themselves by thrusting a wooden stick through their lips. to our european taste they look hideous, honestly, i cannot see that they who make holes in their lips in order to ornament themselves are any worse at all than they who make holes in their ears for the same purpose. the one is just as thorough barbarism as the other. when amy clere thus appealed to her to express an opinion, elizabeth foulkes looked up from her sewing and gave it. "no, mistress amy; i do scarce think it." "why, wouldst thou better love these yellow ones?" "to speak truth, mistress amy, i think you look best without either." "dear heart, to hear the maid! wouldst not thou fain have a pair, bess?" "nay, mistress amy, that would i not." "wherefore?" "because, as methinks, such tawdry gewgaws be unworthy a christian profession. if you desire my thought thereon, mistress amy, you have it now." "forsooth, and thou mightest have kept it, for all i want of it. `tawdry gewgaws,' indeed! i tell thee, bess; these be three shillings the pair." "they may be. i would not pay three half-pence for them." "bess, 'tis ten thousand pities thou art not a nun." "i would rather be what i am, mistress." "i rather not be neither," said amy flippantly. in those days, they always put two nots together when they meant to speak strongly. they did not see, as we do now, that the one contradicts the other. "well, mistress amy, you have no need," said elizabeth quietly. "and as to christian profession--why, bess, every lady in the land wears ear-rings, yea, up to the queen's grace herself. prithee who art thou, to set thee up for better than all the ladies in england, talking of christian profession as though thou wert a priest?" "i am mistress clere's servant-maid; but i set not myself up to be better than any, so far as i know." "thee hold thy peace! whether goeth this lace or the wide one best with my blue kirtle?" "the narrower, i would say. mistress amy, shall you have need of me this next wednesday afternoon?" "why? what's like to happen wednesday afternoon?" "saint chrysostom's like to happen, an't please you; and mistress granted me free leave to visit a friend, if so be you lacked me not." "what fashion of a friend, trow? a jolly one?" elizabeth looked a little amused. "scarce after your fashion, mistress amy." "what, as sad and sober as thyself?" "well-nigh." "then i'll not go with thee. i mean to spend saint chrysostom with mary boswell and lucy cheyne, and their friends: and i promise thee we shall not have no sadness nor sedateness in the company." "that's very like," answered elizabeth. "as merry as crickets, _we_ shall be. dost not long to come withal?" "i were liefer to visit rose, if it liked you." "what a shame to call a sad maid by so fair a name! oh, thou canst go for all me. thy company's never so jolly i need shed tears to lose it." and with this rather uncomplimentary remark, amy left the room, with the blue ear-rings in her ears and the yellow ones in her hand. elizabeth waited till her piece of work was finished. then folding it up and putting it away in a drawer, she ran down to prepare supper,--a task wherein amy did not offer to help her, though it was usual then for the mistress of the house and her daughters to assist in the cooking. about two o'clock on the afternoon of the following wednesday, a tap on the door of the blue bell called rose to open it, and she greeted her friend elizabeth with much pleasure. rose had finished her share of the household work (until supper), and she took her lace pillow and sat down in the window. elizabeth drew from her pocket a couple of nightcaps, and both girls set to work. mrs mount was sewing also in the chimney-corner. "and how be matters in colchester, bess, at this present?" "the clouds be gathering for rain, or i mistake," said elizabeth gravely. "you know the thing i mean?" alice mount had put down her work, and she looked grave too. "bess! you never mean we shall have last august's doings o'er again?" "that do i, alice, and more. i was last night at the king's head, where you know they of our doctrine be wont to meet, and master pulleyne was there, that good man that was sometime chaplain to my lady's grace of suffolk: he mostly puts up at the king's head when he cometh to town. and quoth he, `there shall shortly be another search made for gospel books,--ay, and gospellers belike: and they be not like to 'scape so well as they did last year.' and john love saith--he was there, john love of the heath; you know him?--well, he saith he heard master simnel the bailiff to swear that the great doctors of colchester should find it warm work ere long. there's an ill time coming, friends. take you heed." "the good lord be our aid, if so be!" said alice. "but what shall master clere do, bessy?" asked rose. "he hath ever been a gospeller." "he hath borne the name of one, rose. god knoweth if he be true. i'm 'feared--" elizabeth stopped suddenly. "that he'll not be staunch?" said alice. "he is my master, and i will say no more, alice. but this may i say-- there's many in colchester shall bear faggots ere they burn. ay, and all over england belike." those who recanted had to carry a faggot, as if owning themselves worthy to be burned. "thou'rt right there, bess. the lord deliver us!" "some thinketh we have been too bold of late. you see, john love coming home again, and nothing done to him, made folks think the worst was over." "isn't it then?" said rose. "master benold says he misdoubts if 'tis well begun." "master benold the chandler?" "of east hill--ay. he was at the king's head last night. so was old mistress silverside, and mistress ewring the miller's wife, and johnson--they call him alegar--down at thorpe." "call him alegar! what on earth for?" asked rose indignantly. elizabeth laughed. "well, they say he's so sour. he'll not dance, nor sing idle songs, nor play quoits and bowls, but loveth better to sit at home and read; so they call him alegar." alegar is malt vinegar; the word vinegar was then used only of white wine vinegar. "he's not a bit sour!" cried rose. "i've seen him with his little lad and lass; and right good to them he was. it's a shame to call folks names that don't fit them!" "nay, i don't call him no names, but other folks do. did you know his wife, that died six months gone?" "no, but i've heard her well spoken of." "then you've heard truth. those children lost a deal when they lost her, and so did poor johnson. well, he'll never see her burn: that's one good thing!" "ay," said alice, "and that's what he said himself when she died. well, god help us to stand firm! have you been asked any questions, bess?" "not yet," said elizabeth quietly, "but i look for it every day. have you?" "not i; but our rose here foregathered with the priest one even of late, and he was set to know why we came not to church these eight weeks past. she parried his darts right well; but i look to hear more thereabout." chapter eight. not a bit afeard. alice mount had only just spoken when the latch was lifted by margaret thurston. "pray you, let me come in and get my breath!" said she; "i'm that frighted i can scarce stand." "come in, neighbour, and welcome," replied alice; and rose set a chair for margaret. "what ails you? is there a mad bull about, or what?" "mad bull, indeed! a mad bull's no great shakes. not to him, any way." "well, i'd as soon not meet one in our lane," said alice; "but who's _him_?" "_him's_ the priest, be sure! met me up at top o' the lane, he did, and he must needs turn him round and walk by me. i well-nigh cracked my skull trying to think of some excuse to be rid of him; but no such luck for me! on he came till we reached hither, and then i could bear no more, and i said i had to see you. he said he went about to see you afore long, but he wouldn't come in to-day; so on he marched, and right thankful was i, be sure. eh, the things he asked me! i've not been so hauled o'er the coals this year out." "but what about, marry?" "gramercy! wherefore i came not to mass, and why master didn't: and what i believed and didn't believe, and wherefore i did this and didn't do that, till i warrant you, afore he left off, i was that moithered i couldn't have told what i did believe. i got so muggy i only knew one thing under the sun, and that was that i'd have given my best gown for to be rid of him." "well, you got free without your best gown, margaret," said rose. "may be i have, but i feel as if i'd left all my wits behind me in the lane, or mayhap in the priest's pocket. whatever would the man be at? we pay our dues to the church, and we're honest, peaceable folks: if it serve us better to read our bible at home rather than go look at him hocus-pocussing in the church, can't he let us be? truly, if he'd give us something when we came, there'd be some reason for finding fault; nobody need beg me to go to church when there's sermon: but what earthly good can it do any mortal man to stare at a yellow cross on father tye's back? and what good do you ever get beyond it?" sermons have always been a protestant institution, in this sense, that the more pure and scriptural the church has been, the more sermons there have generally been, while whenever the clergy have taken up with foolish ceremonies and have departed from the bible, they have tried to do away with preaching. and of course, when very few people could read their bibles, there was more need of preaching than there is now, when nearly everybody can read. very, very few poor people could read a word in . it was put down as something remarkable, in the case of cissy's father, that he could "read a little." saint paul says that it pleased god by preaching to save them that believe ( corinthians one ), but he never says "by hearing music," or "by looking at flowers, or candles, or embroidered crosses." those things can only amuse our eyes and ears; they will never do our souls any good. how can they? the only thing that will do good to our souls is to get to know god better: and flowers, candles, music, and embroidery, cannot teach us anything about god. "what laugh you at, rose?" asked elizabeth. "only margaret's notion that it could do no man good to stare at the cross on father tye's back," said rose, trying to recover her gravity. "well, the only animal made with a cross on his back is an ass," said margaret; "and one would think a man should be better than an ass; but if his chief business be to make himself look like one, i don't see that he is so much better." this amused rose exceedingly. elizabeth foulkes, though the same age as rose, was naturally of a graver turn of mind, and she only smiled. "well! if i haven't forgot all i was charged with, i'd better give my message," said margaret; "but father tye's well-nigh shook all my wits out of my head. robin purcas came by this morrow, and he lifted the latch, and gave me a word from master benold, that i was to carry on-- for he's got a job of work at saint osyth, and won't be back while friday--saith he, on friday even, master pulleyne and the scots priest, that were chaplains to my lady of suffolk, shall be at the king's head, and all of our doctrine that will come to hear shall be welcome. will you go?" "verily, that will i," replied alice heartily. "you see, if father tye should stir up the embers and get all alight again, maybe we shalln't have so many more sermons afterward; so we'd best get our good things while we can." "ay, there may be a famine of hearing the words of the lord," said alice gravely. "god avert the same, if his will is!" "johnson, he says he's right sure master simnel means to start of his inquirations. alice, think you you could stand firm?" alice mount sighed and half shook her head. "i didn't stand over firm last august, margaret," said she: "and only the lord knows how i've since repented it. if he'll keep me true--but i'm feared of myself." "well, do you know i'm not a bit feared? it's true, i wasn't tried in august, when you were: but if i had been, be sure i'd never have signed that submission that you did. i wouldn't, so!" "maybe not, neighbour," answered alice meekly. "i was weak." "now, mother," said rose, who could bear no longer, "you know you stood forth best of anybody there! it was father that won her to sign, margaret; she never would have done it if she'd been left to herself. i know she wouldn't." "then what didst thou sign for, rose?" was the reply. rose went the colour of her name. her mother came at once to her help, as rose had just done to hers. "why, she signed because we did, like a dutiful maid as she is alway: and it was our faults, margaret. may god forgive us!" "well, but after all, it wasn't so very ill, was it?" asked margaret, rather inconsistently with what she had said before: but people are not always consistent by any means. "did you promise anything monstrous wrong? i thought it was only to live as became good christians and faithful subjects." "nay, meg, it was more than that. we promised right solemnly to submit us to the church in all matters, and specially in this, that we did believe the sacrament to be christ's body, according to his words." "why, so do we all believe," said margaret, "_according to his words_. have you forgot the tale father tye did once tell us at the king's head, of my lady elizabeth the queen's sister, that when she was asked what she did believe touching the sacrament, she made this answer? "`christ was the word that spake it, he took the bread, and brake it; and what that word did make it, that i believe, and take it.'" "that was a bit crafty, methinks," said rose. "i love not such shifts. i would rather speak out my mind plainly." "ay, but if you speak too plainly, you be like to find you in the wrong place," answered margaret. "that would not be the wrong place wherein truth set me," was rose's earnest answer. "that were never the wrong place wherein god should be my company. and if the fire were too warm for my weakness to bear, the holy angels should maybe fan me with their wings till i came to the covert of his tabernacle." "well, that's all proper pretty," said margaret, "and like a book as ever the parson could talk: but i tell thee what, rose allen, thou'lt sing another tune if ever thou come to smithfield. see if thou doesn't." and rose answered, "`the word that god putteth in my mouth, that will i speak.'" chapter nine. come to the preaching. "dorothy denny, art thou never going to set that kettle on?" "oh, deary me! a body never has a bit of peace!" "that's true enough of me, but it's right false of thee. thou's nought but peace all day long, for thou never puts thyself out. i dare be bounden, if the queen's grace and all her noble company were to sup in this kitchen at five o' the clock, i should come in and find never a kettle nor a pan on at the three-quarter past. if thy uncle wasn't a sloth, and thine aunt a snail, i'm not hostess of the king's head at colchester, thou'rt no more worth thy salt--nay, salt, forsooth! thou'rt not worth the water. salt's one and fourpence the raser, and that's a deal too much to give for thee. now set me the kettle on, and then teem out that rubbish in the yard, and run to the nests to see if the hens have laid: don't be all day and night about it! run, doll!--eh deary me! i might as well have said, crawl. there she goes with the lead on her heels! if these maids ben't enough to drive an honest woman crazy, my name's not philippa wade." and mistress wade began to put things tidy in the kitchen with a promptitude and celerity which dorothy denny certainly did not seem likely to imitate. she swept up the hearth, set a chair before the table, fresh sanded the floor and arranged the forms in rows, before dorothy reappeared, carefully carrying something in her apron. "why, thou doesn't mean to say thou'st done already?" inquired her mistress sarcastically. "thou'st been all across the yard while i've done no more than sand the floor and side things for the gathering. what's that in thine apron? one of the queen's majesty's jewels?" "it's an _egg_, mistress." "an egg! an _egg_?" demanded mrs wade, with a burst of hearty laughter; for she laughed, as she did everything else, with all her might. "is that all thou'st got by thy journey? marry, but i would have tarried another day, and fetched two! poor father pulleyne! so he's but to have one _egg_ to his supper? if them hens have laid no more, i'm a dutchwoman! see thou, take this duster, and dust the table and forms, and i'll go and search for eggs. if ever a mortal woman--" mistress wade was in the yard before she got further, and dorothy was left to imagine the end of the sentence. before that leisurely young woman had finished dusting the first form, the landlady reappeared with an apronful of eggs. "i marvel whither thou wentest for thy _egg_, doll. here be eighteen thou leftest for me to gather. it's no good to bid thee be 'shamed, for thou dost not know how, i should in thy place, i'll warrant thee. verily, i do marvel whatever the world's a-coming to!" before mrs wade had done more than empty her apron carefully of the eggs, a soft rap came on the door; and she called out,-- "come within!" "please, i can't reach," said a little voice. "open the door, doll," said mrs wade; and in came three children--a girl of nine, a boy of six, and a baby in the arms of the former. "well, what are you after? come for skim milk! i've none this even." "no, please. please, we're come to the preaching." "_you're_ come to the preaching? why, you're only as big as mice, the lot of you. whence come you?" "please, we've come from thorpe." "you've come from thorpe! you poor little bits of things! all that way!" cried mrs wade, whose heart was as large as her tongue was ready. "why, i do believe you're cicely johnson. you are so grown i didn't know you at first--and yet you're no bigger than a mouse, as i told you. have you had any supper?" "no, mistress. please, we don't have supper, only now and then. we shall do very well, indeed, if we may stay for the preaching." "you'll sit down there, and eat some bread and milk, before you're an hour older. poor little white-faced mortals as ever i did see! but you've never carried that child all the way from thorpe?--doll didst ever see such children?" "they're proper peaked, mistress," said dorothy. [see note .] "oh no!" answered the truth-loving cissy. "i only carried her from the gate. neighbour ursula, she bare her all the way." "thou'rt an honest lass," said mrs wade, patting cissy on the head. "there, eat that." and she put a large slice of bread into the hand of both will and cissy, setting a goodly bowl of milk on the table between them. "that's good!" commented will, attacking the milk-bowl immediately. cissy held him back, and looked up into mrs wade's kindly and capacious face. "but please we haven't got any money," she said anxiously. "marry come up! to think i'd take money from such bits of things as you! i want no money, child. the good lord, he pays such bills as yours. and what set you coming to the preaching? did your father bid you?" [see note .] "father likes us to come," said cissy, when her thanks had been properly expressed; "but he didn't bid us--not to-night. mother, she said we must always come if we could. i'm feared baby won't understand much: but will and me, we'll try." "i should think not!" replied mrs wade, laughing. "why, if you and will can understand aught that'll be as much as need be looked for. how much know you about it?" "please, we know about the lord jesus," said cissy, putting her hands together, as if she were going to say her prayers. "we know that he died on the cross for us, so that we should not be punished for our sins, and he sends the holy ghost to make us good, and the bible, which is god's word, and we mustn't let anybody take it away from us." "well, if you know that much in your little hearts, you'll do," said the landlady. "there's many a poor heathen doesn't know half as much as that. ay, child, you shall 'bide for the preaching if you want, but you're too soon yet. you've come afore the parson. eat your bread and milk up, and 'bide where you are; that's a snug little corner for you, where you'll be warm and safe. is father coming too, and neighbour ursula?" "yes, they're both coming presently," said cissy. the next arrival was that of two gentlemen, the preacher and a friend. after this people began to drop in, at first by twos and threes, and as the time drew near, with more rapidity. the mounts and rose allen came early; elizabeth foulkes was late, for she had hard work to get away at all. last of anybody was margaret thurston and with her a tall, strong-looking man, who was john thurston, her husband. john johnson found out the corner where his children were, and made his way to them; but rose allen had been before him, and was seated next to cissy, holding the little hand in hers. on the other side of little will sat an old lady with grey hair, and a very sweet, kind face. she was mrs silverside, the widow of a priest. by her was mrs ewring the miller's wife, who was a little deaf, and wanted to get near the preacher. when the room was full, mr pulleyne, who was to preach that evening, rose and came forward to the table, and gave out the forty-second psalm. they had no hymn-books, as we have. there were just a few hymns, generally bound up at the end of the prayer-book, which had been written during the reign of good king edward the sixth; but hardly any english hymns existed at all then. they had one collection of metrical psalms-- that of sternhold and hopkins, of which we never sing any now except the hundredth--that version known to every one, beginning-- "all people that on earth do dwell." the psalms they sang then sound strange to us now but we must remember they did not sound at all strange to those who sang them. here are two verses of the forty-second. "like as the hart doth pant and bray, the well-springs to obtain, so doth my soul desire alway with thee, lord, to remain. my soul doth thirst, and would draw near the living god of might; oh, when shall i come and appear in presence of his sight! "the tears all times are my repast, which from mine eyes do slide; whilst wicked men cry out so fast, `where now is god thy guide?' alas! what grief is it to think the freedom once i had! therefore my soul, as at pit's brink, most heavy is and sad." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . peaked: very thin and pinched-looking. note . come up. an exclamation of surprise, then often used. chapter ten. brought out, to be brought in. loud and full rang the volume of voices in the kitchen of the king's head at colchester, that winter evening. they did not stand up in silence and let a choir do it for them, while they listened to it as they might to a german band, and with as little personal concern. when men's hearts are warm with patriotism, or overflowing with loyalty, they don't want somebody else to sing _rule, britannia_, or _god save the queen_; the very enjoyment lies in doing it themselves. nobody would dream of paying another person to go to a party or to see a royal procession for him. well, then, when we prefer to keep silent, and hear somebody sing god's praises instead of doing it ourselves, what can it mean except that our hearts are not warm with love and overflowing with thankfulness, as they ought to be? and cold hearts are not the stuff that makes martyrs. there was plenty of martyr material in the king's head kitchen that night--from old agnes silverside to little cissy johnson; from the learned priest, mr pulleyne, to many poor men and women who did not know their letters. they were not afraid of what people would say, nor even of what people might do. and yet they knew well that it was possible, and even likely, that very terrible things might be done to them. their feeling was,--well, let them be done, if that be the best way i can glorify god. let them be done, if it be the way in which i can show that i love jesus christ. let them be done, if by suffering with him i can win a place nearer to him, and send a thrill of happiness to the divine and human heart of the saviour who paid his heart's blood to ransom me. so the hymn was not at all too long for them, though it had fifteen verses; and the sermon was not too long, though it lasted an hour and a half. when people have to risk their lives to hear a sermon is not the time when they cry out to have sermons cut shorter. they very well knew that before another meeting took place at the king's head, some, and perhaps all of them, might be summoned to give up liberty and life for the love of the lord jesus. mr pulleyne took for his text a few words in the rd verse of the sixth chapter of deuteronomy. "he brought us out from thence, that he might bring us in." he said to the people:-- "`he brought us out'--who brought us? god, our maker; god, that loved the world. `he brought us out'--who be we? poor, vile, wicked sinners, worms of the earth, things that he could have crushed easier than i can crush a moth. from whence? from egypt, the house of bondage; from sin, self, satan--the only three evil things there be: whereby i mean, necessarily inwardly, utterly evil. thence he brought us out. friends, we must come out of egypt; out from bondage; out of these three ill things, sin, and self, and satan: god will have us out. he will not suffer us to tarry in that land. and if we slack [hesitate, feel reluctant] to come out, he will drive us sharp thence. let us come out quick, and willingly. there is nothing we need sorrow to leave behind; only the task-master, satan; and the great monster, sin; and the slime of the river wherein he lieth hid, self. he will have at us with his ugly jaws, and bite our souls in twain, if we have not a care. let us run fast from this land where we leave behind such evil things. "but see, there is more than this. god had an intent in thus driving us forth. he did not bring us out, and leave us there. nay, `he brought us out that he might bring us in.' in where? into the holy land, that floweth with milk and honey; the fair land where nothing shall enter that defileth; the safe land where in all the holy mountain nothing shall hurt nor destroy; his own land, where he hath his throne and his temple, and is king and father of them that dwell therein. look you, is not this a good land? are you not ready to go and dwell therein? do not the clusters of its grapes--the hearing of its glories--make your mouths water? see what you shall exchange: for a cruel task-master, a loving father; for a dread monster, an holy city; for the base and ugly slime of the river, the fair paving of the golden streets, and the soft waving of the leaves of the tree of life, and the sweet melody of angel harps. truly, i think this good barter. if a man were to exchange a dead rat for a new-struck royal, [see note ] men would say he had well traded, he had bettered himself, he was a successful merchant. lo, here is worse than a dead rat, and better than all the royals in the king's mint. will ye not come and trade? "now, friends, ye must not misconceive me, as though i did mean that men could buy heaven by their own works. nay, heaven and salvation be free gifts--the glorious gifts of a glorious god, and worthy of the giver. but when such gifts are set before you but for the asking, is it too much that ye should rise out of the mire and come? "`he brought them out, that he might bring them in.' he left them not in the desert, to find their own way to the holy land. marry, should they ever have come there? i trow not. nay, no more than a babe of a month old, if ye set him down at bothal's gate, could find his way to the moot hall. but he dealt not with them thus. he left them not to find their own way. he brought them, he led them, he showed them where to plant their feet, first one step, then another, as mothers do to a child when he learneth first to walk. `as a nurse cherisheth her children,' the apostle saith he dealt with his converts: and the lord useth yet tenderer image, for `as a mother comforteth her babe,' saith he, `will i comfort you.' yea, he bids the prophet esaias to learn them, `line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little'--look you, how careful is god of his nurse-children. `feed my lambs,' saith he: and lambs may not nibble so hard as sheep. they take not so full a mouthful; they love the short grass, that is sweet and easily cropped. we be all lambs afore we be sheep. sheep lack much shepherding, but lambs yet more. both be silly things, apt to stray away, and the wolf catcheth them with little trouble. now, if a dog be lost, he shall soon find his way back; but a lamb and a babe, if they be lost, they are utterly lost; they can never find the way. look you, the lord likeneth his people to lambs and babes, these silly things that be continually lost, and have no wit to find the way. so, brethren, _he_ finds the way. he goeth after that which is lost, until he find it. first he finds the poor silly lamb, and then he leadeth it in the way wherein it shall go. he `brings us in' to the fair green pastures and by the still waters--brings us in to the safe haven where the little boats lie at rest--brings us in to the king's banquet-hall where the feast is spread, and the king himself holdeth forth hands of welcome.-- he stretched not forth the cold sceptre; he giveth his own hand--that hand that was pierced for our sins. what say i? nay, `he shall gird himself, and shall come forth and serve them'--so great honour shall they attain which serve god, as to have him serve them. "now, brethren, is this not a fair lot that god appointeth for his people? a king to their guide, and a throne to their bed, and angels to their serving-men--verily these be folks of much distinction that be so served! but, look you, there is one little point we may not miss--`if we suffer, we shall reign.' there is the desert to be passed. there is the jordan to be forded. there is the cross to bear for the master that bare the cross for us. yea, we shall best bear our cross by looking well and oft on his cross. ah! brethren, he standeth close beside; he hath borne it all; he knoweth where the nails run, and in what manner they hurt. yet a little patience, poor suffering soul! yet a little courage; yet a little stumbling over the rough stones of the wilderness: and then the golden city, and the royal banquet-hall, and the king that brought us out despite all the egyptians, that brought us in despite all the dangers of the desert,--the king, our shield, and guide, and father, shall come forth and serve us." old agnes silverside, the priest's widow, sat with her hands clasped, and her eyes fixed on the preacher. as he ended, she laid her hand upon rose allen's. "my maid," she said, "never mind the wilderness. the stones be sharp, and the sun scorching, and the thirst sore: but one sight of the king in the golden city shall make up for all!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . ten shillings; this was then the largest coin made. chapter eleven. unexpected lodgings. "now then, who goes home?" cried the cheerful voice of mrs wade, when the sermon was over. "you, mistress benold?--you, alice mount?--you, meg thurston? you'd best hap your mantle well about your head. mistress silverside, this sharp even: yon hood of yours is not so thick, and you are not so young as you were once. now, adrian purcas, thee be off with johnson and mount; thou'rt not for my money. agnes love, woman, i wonder at you! coming out of a november night with no thicker a mantle than that old purple thing, that i'm fair tired of seeing on you. what's that? `can't afford a new one?' go to southampton! there's one in my coffer that i never use now. here, doll! wherever is that lazy bones? gather up thy heels, wilt thou, and run to my great oak coffer, and bring yon brown hood i set aside. now don't go and fetch the red one! that's my best sunday gear, and thou'rt as like to bring red when i tell thee brown as thou art to eat thy supper.--well, alice?" "i cry you mercy, hostess, for troubling of you; but master and me, we're bidden to lie at the mill. mistress ewring's been that good; but there's no room for rose, and--" "then rose can turn in with dorothy, and i'm fain on't if she'll give her a bit of her earnestness for pay. there's not as much lead to her heels in a twelvemonth as would last doll a week.--so this is what thou calls a brown hood, is it? i call it a blue apron. gramercy, the stupidness o' some folks!" "please you, mistress, there was nought but that in the coffer." "what coffer?" "the walnut, in the porch-chamber." "well, if ever i did! i never spake a word of the walnut coffer, nor the porch-chamber neither, i told thee the great oak coffer, and that's in my chamber, as thou knows, as well as thou knows thy name's dorothy. put that apron back where thou found it, and bring me the brown hood from the oak coffer. dear heart, but she'll go and cast her eyes about for an oak hood in a brown coffer, as like as not! she's that heedless. it's not for lack of wit; she could if she would.--why, what's to be done with yon little scraps! you can never get home to thorpe such a night as this. johnson! you leave these bits o' children with me, and i'll send them back to you to-morrow when the cart goes your way for a load of malt. there's room enough for you; you'd all pack in a thimble, well-nigh.--nay, now! hast thou really found it? now then, agnes love, cast that over you, and hap it close to keep you warm. pay! bless the woman, i want no pay! only some day i'd like to hear `inasmuch' said to me. good even!" "you'll hear that, mistress wade!" said agnes love, a pale quiet-looking woman, with a warm grasp of mistress wade's hand. "you'll hear that, and something else, belike--as we've heard to-night, the king will come forth and serve you. eh, but it warms one's heart to hear tell of it!" "ay, it doth, dear heart, it doth! good-night, and god bless thee! now, master pulleyne, i'll show you your chamber, an' it like you. rose allen, you know the way to dorothy's loft? well, go you up, and take the little ones with you. it's time for babes like them to be abed. doll will show you how to make up a bed for them. art waiting for some one, bessy?" "no, mistress wade," said elizabeth foulkes, who had stood quietly in a corner as though she were; "but if you'd kindly allow it, i'd fain go up too and have a chat with rose. my mistress gave me leave for another hour yet." "hie thee up, good maid, and so do," replied mrs wade cheerily, taking up a candlestick to light mr pulleyne to the room prepared for him, where, as she knew from past experience, he was very likely to sit at study till far into the night. dorothy lighted another candle, and offered it to rose. "see, you'll lack a light," said she. "nay, not to find our tongues," answered rose, smiling. "ah, but to put yon children abed. look you in the closet, rose, as you go into the loft, and you'll see a mattress and a roll of blankets, with a canvas coverlet that shall serve them. you'll turn in with me." "all right, doll; i thank you." "you look weary, doll," said elizabeth. "weary? eh, but if you dwelt with our mistress, you'd look weary, be sure. she's as good a woman as ever trod shoe-leather, only she's so monstrous sharp. she thinks you can be there and back before you've fair got it inside your head that you're to go. i marvel many a time whether the angels 'll fly fast enough to serve her when she gets to heaven. marry come up but they'll have to step out if they do." rose laughed, and led the way upstairs, where she had been several times before. inns at that time were built like continental country inns are now, round a square space, with a garden inside, and a high archway for the entrance, so high that a load of hay could pass underneath. there were no inside stairs, but a flight led up to the second storey from the courtyard, and a balcony running all round the house gave access to the bedrooms. rose, however, went into none of the rooms, but made her way to one corner, where a second steep flight of stairs ran straight up between the walls. these the girls mounted, and at the top entered a low door, which led into a large, low room, lighted by a skylight, and occupied by little furniture. at the further end was a good-sized bed covered with a patchwork quilt, but without any hangings--the absence of these indicating either great poverty or extremely low rank. there was neither drawers, dressing-table, nor washstand. a large chest beside the bed held all dorothy's possessions, and a leaf-table which would let down was fixed to the wall under a mirror. a form in one corner, and two stools, made up the rest of the furniture. in a corner close to the entrance stood another door, which rose opened after she had set up the leaf-table and put the candle upon it. then, with elizabeth's help, she dragged out a large, thick straw mattress, and the blankets and coverlet of which dorothy had spoken, and made up the bed in one of the unoccupied corners. a further search revealed a bolster, but no pillows were forthcoming. that did not matter, for they expected none. "now then, children, we'll get you into bed," said rose. "will must say his prayers first," said cissy anxiously. "of course. now, will, come and say thy prayers, like a good lad." will knelt down beside the bed, and did as he was told in a shrill, sing-song voice. odd prayers they were; but in those days nobody knew any better, and most children were taught to say still queerer things. first came the lord's prayer: so far all was right. then will repeated the ten commandments and the creed, which are not prayers at all, and finished with this formula:-- "matthew, mark, luke and john, bless the bed that i lie on: four corners to my bed, four angels at their head; one to read, and one to write, and one to guard my bed at night. "and now i lay me down to sleep, i pray that christ my soul may keep; if i should die before i wake, i pray that christ my soul may take; wake i at morn, or wake i never, i give my soul to christ for ever." after this strange jumble of good things and nonsense, will jumped into bed, where the baby was already laid. it was cissy's turn next. ever since it had been so summarily arranged by mrs wade that the children were to stay the night at the king's head, cissy had been looking preternaturally solemn. now, when she was desired to say her prayers, as a prelude to going to bed, cissy's lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. "why, little maid, what ails thee?" asked rose. "it's father," said cissy, in an unsteady voice. "i don't know however father will manage without me. he'll have to dress his own supper. i only hope he'll leave the dish for me to wash when i get home. no body never put father and me asunder afore!" "little maid," answered elizabeth, "mistress wade meant to save thee the long walk home." "oh, i know she meant it kind," replied cissy, "and i'm right thankful: but, please, i'd rather be tired than father be without me. we've never been asunder afore--never!" chapter twelve. trying on the armour. "oh, thy father 'll do right well!" said rose encouragingly. "i dare be bound he thought it should be a pleasant change for thee." "ay, i dare say father thought of us and what we should like," said cissy. "he nodded to mistress wade, and smiled on me, as he went forth; so of course i had to 'bide. but then, you see, i'm always thinking of father." "i see," said rose, laughing; "it's not, how shall i do without father? but, how can father do without me?" "that's it," replied cissy, nodding her capable little head. "he'll do without will and baby--not but he'll miss them, you know; but they don't do nothing for him like _me_." this was said in cissy's most demure manner, and rose was exceedingly amused. "and, prithee, what dost thou for him?" said she. "i do everything," said cissy, with an astonished look. "i light the fire, and dress the meat, [note ] and sweep the floor. only i can't do all the washing yet; neighbour ursula has to help me with that. but about father--please, when i've said the paternoster [the lord's prayer], and the belief, and the commandments, might i ask, think you, for somebody to go in and do things for father? i know he'll miss me very ill." "thou dear little-soul!" cried rose. but cissy was looking up at elizabeth, whom she dimly discerned to be the graver and wiser of the two girls. elizabeth smiled at her in that quiet, sweet way which she usually did. "little cissy," she said, "is not god thy father, and his likewise? and thinkest thou fathers love to see their children happy and at ease, or no?" "father likes us to be happy," said cissy simply. "and `your father knoweth,'" softly replied elizabeth, "`that ye have need of all these things.'" "oh, then, he'll send in ursula, or somebody," responded cissy, in a contented tone. "it'll be all right if i ask him to see to it." and cissy "asked him to see to it," and then lay down peacefully, her tranquillity restored, by the side of little will, and all the children were asleep in a few minutes. "now, bessy, we can have our talk." so saying, rose drew the stools into a corner, out of the way of the wind, which came puffing in at the skylight in a style rather unpleasant for november, and the girls sat down together for a chat. "how go matters with you at master clere's, bessy?" "oh, middling. i go not about to complain, only that i would mistress amy were a bit steadier than she is." "she's a gadabout, isn't she?" "nay, i've said all i need, and maybe more than i should." "doth master clere go now to mass, bessy?" "oh, ay, as regular as any man in the town, and the mistress belike. the net's drawing closer, rose. the time will soon come when even you and i, low down as we are, shall have to make choice, with death at the end of one way." "ay, i'm afeard so," said rose gravely. "bessy, think you that you can stand firm?" "firm as a rock, if god hold me up; weak and shifting as water, if he hold me not." "ay, thou hast there the right. but we are only weak, ignorant maidens, bessy." "then is he the more likely to hold us up, since he shall see we need it rather. if thou be high up on the rock, out of reach of the waves, what matter whether thou be a stone weight or a crystal vessel? the waters beat upon the rock, not on thee." "but one sees them coming, bess." "well, what if thou dost? they'll not touch thee." "eh, bess, the fire 'll touch us, be sure!" "it'll touch our flesh--the outward case of us--that which can drop off and turn to dust. it can never meddle with rose allen and elizabeth foulkes." "bessy, i wish i had thy good courage." "why, rose, art feared of death?" "not of what comes after, thank god! but i'm feared of pain, bessy, and of dying. it seems so shocking, when one looks forward to it." "best not look forward. maybe 'tis more shocking to think of than to feel. that's the way with many things." "o bessy! i can't look on it calm, like that. it isn't nature." "nay, dear heart, 'tis grace, not nature." "and thou seest, in one way, 'tis worser for me than for thee. thou art thyself alone; but there's father and mother with me. how could i bear to see them suffer?" "the lord will never call thee to anything, rose, which he will not give thee grace to bear. be sure of that. well, i've no father--he's in heaven, long years ago. but i've a good mother at stoke nayland, and i'd sooner hurt my own head than her little finger, any day i live. dear maid, neither thou nor i know to what the lord will call us. we do but know that on whatever journey he sendeth us, himself shall pay the charges. thou goest not a warfare at thine own cost. how many times in god's word is it said, `fear not?' would the lord have so oft repeated it, without he had known that we were very apt to fear?" "ah!" said rose, sighing, "and the `fearful' be among such as are left without the gate. o bessy, if that fear should overcome me that i draw back! i cannot but think every moment shall make it more terrible to bear. and if one held not fast, but bought life, as soon as the fire were felt, by denying the truth! i am feared, dear heart! i'm feared." "it shall do thee no hurt to be feared of thyself, only lose not thine hold on god. `hold _thou_ me up, and i shall be safe.' but that should not be, buying life, bessy, but selling it." "i know it should be bartering the life eternal, for the sake of a few years, at most, of this lower life. yet life is main sweet, bessy, and we are young. `all that a man hath will he give for his life.'" "think not on the life, rose, nor on what thou givest, but alone on him for whom thou givest it. is he not worth the pain and the loss? couldst thou bear to lose _him_?--him, who endured the bitter rood [cross] rather than lose thee. that must never be, dear heart." "i do trust not, verily; yet--" "what, not abed yet?" cried the cheery voice of mrs wade. "i came up but to see if you had all you lacked. doll's on her way up. i reckon she shall be here by morning. a good maid, surely, but main slow. what! the little ones be asleep? that's well. but, deary me, what long faces have you two! are you taking thought for your funeral, or what discourse have you, that you both look like judges?" "something like it, hostess," said elizabeth, with her grave smile. "truly, we were considering that which may come, and marvelling if we should hold fast." the landlady set her arms akimbo, and looked from one of the girls to the other. "why, what's a-coming?" said she. "nay, we know not what, but--" "dear heart, then i'd wait till i did! i'll tell you what it is--i hate to have things wasted, even an old shoe-latchet; why, i pity to cast it aside, lest it should come in for something some day. now, my good maids, don't waste your courage and resolution. just you keep them till they're wanted, and then they'll be bright and ready for use. you're not going to be burned to-night; you're going to bed. and screwing up your courage to be burned is an ill preparation for going to bed, i can tell you. you don't know, and i don't, that any one of us will be called to glorify the lord in the fires. if we are, depend upon it he'll show us how to do it. now, then, say your prayers, and go to sleep." "i thank you, hostess, but i must be going home." "good-night, then, bessy, and don't sing funeral dirges over your own coffin afore it comes from the undertaker. what, doll, hast really got here? i scarce looked to see thee afore morning. good-night, maids." and mrs wade bustled away. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . at this time they used the word _meat_ in the sense of food of any kind--not butchers meat only. chapter thirteen. a dark night's errand. "must you be gone, bessy?" said dorothy denny, sitting down on the side of her bed with a weary air. "eh, i'm proper tired! thought this day 'd never come to an end, i did. couldn't you tarry a bit longer?" "i don't think i ought, dorothy. your mistress looked to see rose abed by now, 'twas plain; and mine gave me leave but till eight o' the clock. i'd better be on my way." "oh, you're one of that sort that's always thinking what they _ought_, are you? that's all very well in the main; but, dear heart! one wants a bit of what one would like by nows and thens." "one gets that best by thinking what one ought," said elizabeth. "ay, but it's all to come sometime a long way off; and how do i know it'll come to me? great folks doesn't take so much note of poor ones, and them above 'll very like do so too." "there's only one above that has any right to bid aught," answered elizabeth, "and he takes more note of poor than rich, doll, as you'll find by the bible. good-night, rose; good-night, dorothy." and elizabeth ran lightly down the stairs, and out so into the street. she had a few minutes left before the hour at which mrs clere had enjoined her to be back, so she did not need to hurry, and she went quietly on towards balcon lane, carrying her lantern--for there were no street lamps, and nobody could have any light on a winter evening except what he carried with him. just before she turned the corner of the lane she met two women, both rather heavily laden. elizabeth was passing on, when her steps were arrested by hearing one of them say,-- "i do believe that's bess foulkes; and if it be--" elizabeth came to a standstill. "yes, i'm bess foulkes," she said. "what of that?" "why, then, you'll give me a lift, be sure, as far as the north hill. i've got more than i can carry, and i was casting about for a face i knew." "i've not much time to spare," said elizabeth; "but i'll give you a lift as far as saint peter's--i can't go further. margaret thurston, isn't it? i must be in by eight; i'll go with you till then." "i've only to go four doors past saint peter's, so that'll do well. you were at the preaching, weren't you, this even?" "ay, and i thought i saw you." "yes, i was there. he talked full bravely. i marvel if he'd stand if it came to it. i don't think many would." "i misdoubt if any would, without god held them up." "margaret says she's sure she would," said the other woman. "oh, ay, i don't doubt myself," said margaret. "then i cry you mercy, but i doubt you," replied elizabeth. "i'm sure you needn't! i'd never flinch for pope nor priest." "maybe not; but you might for rack or stake." "it'll ne'er come to that here. queen mary's not like to forget how colchester folk all stood with her against lady jane." "she mayn't; but think you the priests shall tarry at that? and she'll do as the priests bid her." "ay, they say my lord of winchester, when he lived, had but to hold up his finger, and she'd have followed him, if it were over london bridge into the thames," said the other woman. "and the like with my lord cardinal, that now is." by "my lord of winchester" she meant bishop gardiner, who had been dead rather more than a year. the cardinal was reginald pole, the queen's third cousin, who had lately been appointed archbishop of canterbury, in the room of the martyred cranmer, "why, the queen and my lord cardinal were ever friends, from the time they were little children," answered margaret. "ay, there was talk once of her wedding with him, if he'd not become a priest. but i rather reckon you're right, my maid: a priest's a priest, without he's a gospeller; and there's few of them will think more of goodness and charity than of their own order and of the church." "goodness and charity? marry, there's none in 'em!" cried margaret. "howbeit, here's the green sleeves, where i'm bound, and i'm beholden to you, bessy, for coming with me. good even." elizabeth returned the greeting, and set off to walk back at a quick pace to balcon lane. she had not gone many steps when she was once more stopped, this time by a young man, named robert purcas, a fuller, who lived in the neighbouring village of booking. "bessy," said he. "it is thou, i know well, for i heard thee bid margaret thurston good den, and i should know thy voice among a thousand." "i cannot 'bide, robin. i'm late, even now." "tarry but one minute, bessy. trust me, thou wouldst if--" "well, then, make haste," said elizabeth, pausing. "thou art friends with alice mount, of bentley, and she knows mistress ewring, the miller's wife." "ay; well, what so?" "bid alice mount tell master ewring there's like to be a writ out against him for heresy and contumaciousness toward the church. never mind how i got to know; i know it, and that's enough. he, and mistress silverside, and johnson, of thorpe, be like enough to come into court. bessy, take heed to thy ways, i pray thee, that thou be not suspect." no thought of herself had caused elizabeth foulkes to lay her hand suddenly on the buttress of saint peter's, beside her. the father who was so dear to little cissy was in imminent danger; and cissy had just been asking god to send somebody to see after him. elizabeth's voice was changed when she spoke again. "they must be warned," she said. "robin, thou and i must needs do this errand to-night. i shall be chidden, but that does not matter. canst thou walk ten miles for the love of god?" "i'd do that for the love of thee, never name god." elizabeth did not answer the words. there was too much at stake to lose time. "then go thou to thorpe, and bid johnson get away ere they take him. mistress wade has the children, and she'll see to them, or alice mount will. i must--" "thou'd best not put too much on alice mount, for will mount's as like as not to be in the next batch." "lord, have mercy on us! i'll go warn them--they are with mistress ewring at the mill; and then i'll go on to mistress silverside. make haste, robin, for mercy's sake!" and, without waiting for anything more, elizabeth turned and ran up the street as fast as she dared in the comparative darkness. streets were very rough in those days, and lanterns would not light far. old mistress silverside lived in tenant's lane, which was further off than the mill. elizabeth ran across from the north hill to boucher's street, and up that, towards the gate, beyond which the mill stood on the bank of the colne. mr ewring, the miller, was a man who kept early hours; and, as elizabeth ran up to the gate, she saw that the lights were already out in the windows of the mill. the gate was closed. elizabeth rapped sharply on the window, and the shutter was opened, but, all being dark inside, she could not see by whom. "prithee, let me through the gate. i've a message of import for master ewring, at the mill." "gate's shut," said the gruff voice of the gatekeeper. "can't let any through while morning." "darnell, you'll let me through!" pleaded elizabeth. "i'm servant to master clere, clothier, of balcon lane, and i'm sent with a message of grave import to the mill." "tell master clere, if he wants his corn ground, he must send by daylight." and the wooden shutter was flung to. elizabeth stood for an instant as if dazed. "i can't get to them," she said to herself. "there's no chance that way. i must go to tenant's lane." she turned away from the gate, and went round by the wall to the top of tenant's lane. "pray god i be in time to warn somebody! we are all in danger, we who were at the preaching to-night, and mistress wade most of all, for it was in her house. i'll go to the king's head ere i go home." thus thinking, elizabeth reached mrs silverside's, and rapped at the door. once--twice--thrice--four times. not a sound came from inside, and she was at last sorrowfully compelled to conclude that nobody was at home. down the lane she went, and came out into high street at the bottom. "then i can only warn mistress wade. i dare be bound she'll let the others know, as soon as morning breaks. i do trust that will be time enough." she picked her way across high street, and had just reached the opposite side, when her arm was caught as if in an iron vice, and she felt herself held fast by greater strength than her own. "hussy, what goest thou about?" said the stern voice of her master, nicholas clere. chapter fourteen. stopped on the way. nicholas clere was a man of one idea at once; and people of that sort do a great deal of good when they get hold of the right idea, and a great deal of harm when a wrong idea gets hold of them. once let notion get into the head of nicholas, and no reasoning nor persuasion would drive it out. he made no allowances and permitted no excuses. if a thing looked wrong, then wrong it must be, and it was of no use to talk to him about it. that he should have found elizabeth, who had been ordered to come home at eight o'clock, running in the opposite direction at half-past eight, was in his eyes an enormity which admitted of no explanations. that she either had been in mischief, or was then on her way to it, were the only two alternatives possible to the mind of her master. and circumstances were especially awkward for elizabeth, since she could not give any explanation of her proceedings which would clear her in the eyes of her employers. nicholas clere, like many other people of prejudiced minds and fixed opinions, had a mind totally unfixed in the one matter of religion. his religion was whatever he found it to his worldly advantage to be. during king edward's reign, it was polite and fashionable to be a protestant; now, under queen mary, the only way to make a man's fortune was to be a roman catholic. and though nicholas did not say even to himself that it was better to have plenty of money than to go to heaven when he died, yet he lived exactly as if he thought so. during the last few years, therefore, nicholas had gradually been growing more and more of a papist, and especially during the last few weeks. first, he left off attending the protestant meetings at the king's head; then he dropped family prayer. papists, whether they be the genuine article or only the imitation, always dislike family prayer. they say that a church is the proper place to pray in, though our lord's bidding is, "when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy father which is in secret." the third step which nicholas took was to go to mass, and command all his household to follow him. this had elizabeth hitherto, but quite respectfully, declined to do. she was ready to obey all orders of her earthly master which did not interfere with her higher duty to god almighty. but his holy word--not her fancy, nor the traditions of men-- forbade her to bow down to graven images; or to give his glory to any person or thing but himself. and elizabeth knew that she could not attend mass without doing that. a piece of consecrated bread would be held up, and she would be required to worship it as god. and it was not god: it could neither see, nor hear, nor speak; it was not even as like god as a man is. to worship a bit of bread because christ likened his body to bread, would be as silly as to worship a stone because the bible says, "that _rock_ was christ." it was evident that he was speaking figuratively, just as he spoke when he said, "i am the door of the sheep," and "i am the morning star." who in his senses would suppose that christ meant to say that he was a wooden door? it is important that we should have true ideas about this, because there are just now plenty of foolish people who will try to persuade us to believe that that poor, powerless piece of bread is god himself. it is insulting the lord god almighty to say such a thing. look at the th psalm, from the fifth verse to the eight, and you will see how god describes an idol, which he forbids to be worshipped: and then look at the th and th verses of the th chapter of saint matthew, and you will see that the lord jesus distinctly says that you are not to believe anybody who tells you that he is come before you see him. when he really does come, nobody will want any telling; we shall all see him for ourselves. so we find from his own words in every way that the bread and wine in the sacrament are just bread and wine, and nothing more, which we eat and drink "in remembrance of him," just as you might keep and value your mother's photograph in remembrance of her. but i am sure you never would be so silly as to think that the photograph was her own real self! this was the reason why elizabeth foulkes would not go to mass. every sunday morning mrs clere ordered her to go, and elizabeth quietly, respectfully, but firmly, told her that she could not do so. elizabeth had god's word to uphold her; god forbade her to worship idols. it was not simply that she did not like it, nor that somebody else had told her not to do it. nothing can excuse us if we break the laws of our country, unless the law of our country has broken god's law; and elizabeth would have done very wrong to disobey her mistress, except when her mistress told her to disobey god. what god said must be her rule; not what she thought. generally speaking, mrs clere called elizabeth some ugly names, and then let her do as she liked. up to this time her master had not interfered with her, but she was constantly expecting that he would. she was not afraid of answering for herself; but she was terribly afraid for her poor friends. to tell him that she was on her way to warn them of danger, and beg them to escape, would be the very means of preventing their escape, for what he was likely to do was to go at once and tell the priests, in order to win their favour for himself. "hussy, what goest thou about?" came sternly from nicholas clere, as he held her fast. "master, i cry you mercy. i was on my way home, and i was turned out of it by one that prayed me to take a word of grave import to a friend." elizabeth thought she might safely say so much as that. "i believe thee not," answered nicholas. "all young maids be idle gadabouts, if they be not looked to sharply, and thou art no better than the rest. whither wert thou going?" "i have told all i may, master, and i pray you ask no further. the secret is not mine, but theirs that sent me and should have received my message." in those days, nothing was more usual than for secret messages to be sent from one person to another. it was not safe then, as it is now, for people to speak openly. freedom always goes hand in hand with protestantism. if england should ever again become a roman catholic country--which many people are trying hard to make her--englishmen will be no longer free. nicholas clere hesitated a moment. elizabeth's defence was not at all unlikely to be true. but he had made up his mind that she was in fault, and probabilities must not be allowed to interfere with it. "rubbish!" said he. "what man, having his eyes in his head, should trust a silly maid with any matter of import? women can never keep a secret, much less a young jade like to thee. tell no more lies, prithee." and he began to walk towards balcon lane, still firmly holding elizabeth by the arm. "master, i beseech you, let me go on my way!" she pleaded earnestly. "i will tarry up all night, if it be your pleasure, to make up for one half-hour now. truly as i am an honest maid, i have told you the truth, and i am about nothing ill." "tush, jade! hold thy tongue. thou goest with me, and if not peaceably, then by force." "will you, of your grace, master, let me leave my message with some other to take instead of me? may i have leave to speak, but one moment, with mistress wade, of the king's head? she would find a trusty messenger to go forward." "tell me thy message, and if it be truly of any weight, then shall it be sent," answered nicholas, still coldly, but less angrily than before. could she tell him the message? would it not go straight to the priest, and all hope of escape be thus cut off? like nehemiah, elizabeth cried for wisdom. "master, i cry you mercy yet again, but i may not tell the message." "yet thou wouldst fain tell mistress wade! thou wicked hussy, thou canst be after no good. what message is this, which thou canst tell mistress wade, but mayest not tell me? i crede thee not a word. have forward, and thy mistress shall deal with thee." chapter fifteen. silence under difficulties. elizabeth foulkes was almost in despair. her master held her arm tight, and he was a strong man--to break away from him was simply impossible-- and to persuade him to release her seemed about as unlikely. still she cried, "master, let me go!" in tones that might have melted any softer heart than that of nicholas clere. "step out!" was all he said, as he compelled elizabeth to keep pace with him till they reached balcon lane. mrs clere was busy in the kitchen. she stopped short as they entered, with a gridiron in her hand which she had cleaned and was about to hang up. "well, this is a proper time of night to come home, mistress! marched in, too, with thy master holding of thee, as if the constable had thee in custody! this is our pious maid, that can talk nought but bible, and says her prayers once a day oftener nor other folks! i always do think that sort no better than hypocrites. what hath she been about, nicholas? what saith she?" "a pack o' lies!" said nicholas, harshly. "whined out a tale of some message of dread import that somebody, that must not be named, hath sent her on. i found her hasting with all speed across the high street, the contrary way from what it should have been. you'd best give her the strap, wife. she deserves it, or will ere long." nicholas sat down in the chimney-corner, leaving mistress clere to deal with the offender. elizabeth well knew that the strap was no figure of speech, and that mistress clere when angry had no light hand. girls were beaten cruelly in those days, and grown women too, when their mothers or mistresses chose to punish them for real or supposed offences. but elizabeth foulkes thought very little of the pain she might suffer, and very much of the needed warning which had not been given. and then, suddenly, the words flashed across her, "thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven." then the warning was better let alone, if it were god's will. she rose with a calmer face, and followed mistress clere to the next room to receive her penalty. "there!" said that lady, when her arm began to ache with beating elizabeth. "that'll do for a bit, i hope. perhaps thou'lt not be so headstrong next time. i vow, she looks as sweet as if i'd given her a box of sugar plums! i'm feared thou'd have done with a bit more, but i'm proper tired. now, speak the truth: who sent thee on this wild-goose chase?" "mistress, i was trusted with a secret. pray you, ask me not." "secret me no secrets! i'll have it forth." "not of me," said elizabeth, quietly, but firmly. "highty-tighty! and who art thou, my lady?" "i am your servant, mistress, and will do your bidding in everything that toucheth not my duty to god almighty. but this i cannot." "i'll tell thee what, hussy! it was never good world since folks set up to think for themselves what was right and wrong, instead of hearkening to the priest, and doing as they were bid, thou'rt too proud, bess foulkes, that's where it is, with thy pretty face and thy dainty ways. go thou up and get thee abed--it's on the stroke of nine: and i'll come and lock thee in. dear heart, to see the masterfulness of these maids!" "mistress," said elizabeth, pausing, "i pray you reckon me not disobedient, for in very deed i have ever obeyed you, and yet will, touching all concerns of yours: but under your good leave, this matter concerns you not, and i have no freedom to speak thereof." "in very deed, my lady," said mistress clere, dropping a mock courtesy, "i desire not to meddle with your ladyship's high matters of state, and do intreat you of pardon that i took upon me so weighty a matter. go get thee abed, hussy, and hold thine idle tongue!" elizabeth turned and went upstairs in silence. words were of no use. mistress clere followed her. in the bedroom where they both slept, which was a loft with a skylight, was amy, half undressed, and employed in her customary but very unnecessary luxury of admiring herself in the glass. "amy, i'm going to turn the key. here's an ill maid that i've had to take the strap to: see thou fall not in her ways. i'll let you out in the morning." so saying, mistress clere locked the door, and left the two girls together. like most idle folks. amy clere was gifted with her full share of curiosity. the people who do the world's work, or who go about doing good, are not usually the people who want you to tell them how much miss smith gave for her new bonnet, or whom mr robinson had yesterday to dinner. they are a great deal too busy, and generally too happy, to give themselves the least trouble about the bonnet, or to feel the slightest interest in the dinner-party. but idle people--poor pitiable things!--who do not know what to do with themselves, are often very ready to discuss anything of that sort which considerately puts itself in their way. to have something to talk about is both a surprise and a delight to them. no sooner had mrs clere shut the door than amy dropped her edifying occupation and came up to elizabeth, who had sat wearily down on the side of the bed. "why, bess, what ails mother? and what hast thou been doing? thou mayest tell me; i'll not make no mischief, and i'd love dearly to hear all about it." if experience had assured elizabeth foulkes of anything, it was that she might as safely repeat a narrative to the town-crier as tell it to amy clere. "i have offenced mistress," said she, "and i am sorry thereat: yet i did but what i thought was my duty. i can say no more thereanent, mistress amy." "but what didst thou, bessy? do tell me." elizabeth shook her head. "best not, mistress amy. leave it rest, i pray you, and me likewise, for of a truth i am sore wearied." "come, bessy, don't be grumpy! let's know what it was. life's monstrous tiresome, and never a bit of play nor show. i want to know all about it." "maybe there'll be shows ere long for you, mistress amy," answered elizabeth gravely, as a cold shiver ran through her to think of what might be the consequence of her untold message. well! cissy's father at any rate would be safe: thank god for that! "why will there? hast been at one to-night?" "no." elizabeth checked herself from saying more. what a difference there was between amy's fancies and the stern realities she knew! "there's no lugging nought out of thee!" said amy with a pout. "thou'rt as close shut as an oyster shell." and she went back to the mirror, and began to plait her hair, the more conveniently to tuck it under her night-cap. oh, how elizabeth longed for a safe confidant that night! sometimes she felt as though she must pour out her knowledge and her fears--to amy, if she could get no one else. but she knew too well that, without any evil intention, amy would be certain to make mischief from sheer love of gossip, the moment she met with any one who would listen to her. "mistress amy, i'm right weary. pray you, leave me be." "hold thy tongue if thou wilt. i want nought with thee, not i," replied amy, with equal crossness and untruth, since, as she would herself have expressed it, she was dying to know what elizabeth could have done to make her mother so angry. but amy was angry herself now. "get thee abed, mistress glum-face; i'll pay thee out some day: see if i don't!" elizabeth's reply was to kneel down for prayer. there was one safe confidant, who could be relied upon for sympathy and secrecy: and he might be spoken to without words. it was well; for the words refused to come. only one thing would present itself to elizabeth's weary heart and brain: and that was the speech of little cissy, that, "it would be all right if she asked god to see to it." a sob broke from her, as she sent up to heaven the one petition of which alone she felt capable just then--"lord, help me!" he would know how and when to help. elizabeth dropped her trouble into the almighty hands, and left it there. then she rose, undressed, and lay down beside amy, who was already in bed. amy clere was not an ill-natured girl, and her anger never lasted long. when she heard elizabeth's sob, her heart smote her a little: but she said to herself, that she was "not going to humble herself to that crusty bess," so she turned round and went to sleep. chapter sixteen. the storm breaks. when the morning came, amy's good temper was restored by her night's rest, and she was inclined to look on her locking-in as a piece of amusement. "i vow, bess, this is fun!" said she, "i've twenty minds to get out on the roof, and see if i can reach the next window. it would be right jolly to wake up ellen mallory--she's always lies abed while seven; and i do think i could. wilt aid me?" ellen mallory was the next neighbour's daughter, a girl of about amy's age; and seven o'clock was considered a shocking late hour for rising in . "mistress amy, i do pray you never think of such a thing," cried elizabeth, in horror. "you'll be killed!" "well, i'm not wishful to be killed," answered amy lightly: "i only want some fun while we are shut up here. i marvel when mother shall come to let us out. she'll have to light the fire herself if she does not; that's one good thing!" elizabeth thought it a very undutiful idea; but she was silent. if she had but had wings like a dove, how gladly would she have flown to warn her friends! she well knew that mrs clere was not likely to be in the mood to grant a favour and let her go, after what had happened the night before. to go without leave was a thing which elizabeth never contemplated. that would be putting herself in the wrong. but her poor friends, would they escape? how if robert purcas had been stopped, as she had? i was strange, but her imagination did not dwell nearly so much upon her own friend, rose, as on little cissy. if johnson were taken, if he were martyred, what would become of little cissy? the child had crept into elizabeth's heart, before she was aware. suddenly amy's voice broke in upon her thoughts. "come, bess, art in a better mood this morrow? i'll forgive thee thy miss-words last night, if thou'lt tell me now." all the cross words there had been the night before had come from amy herself; but elizabeth let that pass. "mistress amy," said she, "this matter is not one whereof i may speak to you or any other. i was charged with a secret, and bidden not to disclose the same. think you i can break my word?" "dear heart! i break mine many a time in the week," cried amy, with a laugh. "i'm not _nigh_ so peevish as thou." "but, mistress amy, it is not right," returned elizabeth earnestly. before amy could answer, mrs clere's heavy step was heard approaching the door, and the key turned in the lock. amy, who sat on the side of the bed swinging her feet to and fro for amusement, jumped down. "mother, you'll get nought from her. i've essayed both last night and this morrow, and i might as well have held my tongue." "go and light the fire," said mrs clere sternly to elizabeth. "i'll have some talk with thee at after." elizabeth obeyed in silence. she lighted the fire and buttered the eggs, and swept the house, and baked the bread, and washed the clothes, and churned the butter--all with a passionate longing to be free, hidden in her heart, and constant ejaculatory prayers--silent ones, of course-- for the safely of her poor friends. mrs clere seemed to expect elizabeth to run away if she could, and she did not let her go out of her sight the whole day. the promised scolding, however, did not come. supper was over, and the short winter day was drawing to its close, when nicholas clere came into the kitchen. "here's brave news, wife!" said he, "what thinkest? here be an half-dozen in the town arrest of heresy--and some without, too." "mercy on us! who?" demanded mrs clere. "why, master benold, chandler, and master bongeor, glazier, and old mistress silverside, and mistress ewring at the mill--these did i hear. i know not who else." and suddenly turning to elizabeth, he said, "hussy, was this thine errand, or had it ought to do therewith?" all the passionate pain and the earnest longing died out of the heart of elizabeth foulkes. she stood looking as calm as a marble statue, and almost as white. "master," she said, quietly enough, "mine errand was to warn these my friends. god may yet save them, if it be his will. and may he not lay to your charge the blood that will otherwise be shed!" "mercy on us!" cried mrs clere again, dropping her duster. "why, the jade's never a bit better than these precious friends of hers!" "i'm sore afeared we have been nourishing a serpent in our bosoms," said nicholas, in his sternest manner. "i had best see to this." "well, i wouldn't hurt the maid," said his wife, in an uneasy tone; "but, dear heart! we must see to ourselves a bit. we shall get into trouble if such things be tracked to our house." "so we shall," answered her husband. "i shall go, speak with the priest, and see what he saith. without"--and he turned to elizabeth--"thou wilt be penitent, and go to mass, and do penance for thy fault." "i am willing enough to do penance for my faults, master," said elizabeth, "but not for the warning that i would have given; for no fault is in it." "then must we need save ourselves," replied nicholas: "for the innocent must not suffer for the guilty. wife, thou wert best lock up this hussy in some safe place; and, daughter, go thou not nigh her. this manner of heresy is infectious, and i would not have thee defiled therewith." "nay, i'll have nought to do with what might get me into trouble," said amy, flippantly. "bessy may swallow the bible if she likes; i shan't." elizabeth was silent, quietly standing to hear her doom pronounced. she knew it was equivalent to a sentence of death. no priest, consulted on such a subject would dare to leave the heretic undenounced. and she had no friends save that widowed mother at stoke nayland--a poor woman, without money or influence; and that other friend who would be sure to stand by her,--who, that he might save others, had not saved himself. nicholas took up his hat and marched out, and mrs clere ordered elizabeth off to a little room over the porch, generally used as a lumber room, where she locked her up. "now then, think on thy ways!" said she. "it'll mayhap do thee good. bread and water's all thou'lt get, i promise thee, and better than thy demerits. dear heart! to turn a tidy house upside-down like this, and all for a silly maid's fancies, forsooth! i hope thou feels ashamed of thyself; for i do for thee." "mistress, i can never be ashamed of god's truth. to that will i stand, if he grant me grace." "have done with thy cant! i've no patience with it." and mistress clere banged the door behind her, locked it, and left elizabeth alone till dinner-time, when she carried up a slice of bread-- only one, and that the coarsest rye-bread--and a mug of water. "there!" said she. "thou shouldst be thankful, when i've every bit of work on my hands in all this house, owing to thy perversity!" "i do thank you, mistress," said elizabeth, meekly. "would you suffer me to ask you one favour? i have served you well hitherto, and i never disobeyed you till now." it was true, and mrs clere knew it. "well, the brazen-facedness of some hussies!" cried she. "prithee, what's your pleasure, mistress? would you a new satin gown for your trial, and a pearl-necklace? or do you desire an hundred pounds given to the judges to set you free? or would you a petition to the queen's majesty, headed by mr mayor and my lord of oxenford?" elizabeth let the taunts go by her like a summer breeze. she felt them keenly enough. nobody enjoys being laughed at; but he is hardly worth calling a man who allows a laugh to turn him out of the path of duty. "mistress," she said, quietly, "should you hear of any being arrested for heresy, would you do me so much grace as to let me know the name? and the like if you hear of any that have escaped?" mrs clere looked down into the eyes that were lifted to her, as elizabeth stood before her. quiet, meek, tranquil eyes, without a look of reproach in them, with no anxiety save that aroused for the fate of her friends. she was touched in spite of herself. "thou foolish maid!" said she. "why couldst thou not have done as other folks, and run no risks? i vow i'm well-nigh sorry for thee, for all thy perversity. well, we'll see. mayhap i will, if i think on't." "thank you, mistress!" said elizabeth gratefully, as mistress clere took the mug from her, and left the little porch-chamber as before, locking her prisoner in the prison. chapter seventeen. rose hears the news. while elizabeth foulkes was passing through these experiences, the mounts, rose allen, and the children, had gone back to much bentley as soon as morning broke. rose took the little ones home to thorpe, and they met johnson just at the door of his own cottage. "truly, friend, i am much beholden to you," said he to rose, "for your kindly care of my little ones. but, i pray you, is it true what i heard, that mistress silverside is arrest for heresy?" rose looked up in horrified astonishment. "why, we left them right well," she said, "but five hours gone. i brought the children o'er to you so soon as they had had their dinner. is it true, think you?" "nay, that would i fain know of you, that were in town twelve hours later than i," answered johnson. "then, in very deed, we heard nought," said rose. "i do trust it shall prove but an ill rumour." "may it be so! yet i cannot but fear it be true. robin purcas came to me last night, and i could not but think he should have told me somewhat an' he might: but he found father tye in mine house, and might not speak. they both tarried so long," added johnson, with a laugh, "that i was fain to marvel if each were essaying to outsit the other; but if so, father tye won, for love of the heath came for robin and took him away ere the priest were wearied out. if any straitness do arise against the gospellers, love had best look out." "ay, they know him too well to leave him slip through their fingers again," replied rose. "that do they, verily. well, dear hearts, and have ye been good children?" "we've tried," said cissy. "they've been as good as could be," answered rose. "father, did anybody come and see to you? i asked the lord to see to it, because i knew you'd miss me sore," said cissy anxiously, "and i want to know if he did." "ay, my dear heart," replied johnson, smiling as he looked down on her. "ursula felstede came in and dressed dinner for me, and margaret thurston looked in after, and she washed some matters and did a bit of mending; and at after i had company--father tye, and robin purcas, and jack love. so thou seest i was not right lonesome." "he took good care of you. father," said cissy, looking happy. it was evident that cissy lived for and in her father. whatever he was, for good or evil, that she was likewise. "well, i've got to look in on margaret thurston," said rose, "for i did a bit of marketing for her this morrow in the town, and i have a fardel to leave. she was not at home when we passed, coming. but now, i think i'd better be on my way, so i'll wish you good den, johnson. god bless you, little ones!" "good den, rose!" said cissy. "and you'll learn me to weave lace with those pretty bobbins?" "that will i, with a very good will, sweet heart," said rose, stooping to kiss cissy. "weave lace!" commented her father. "what, what is the child thinking, that she would fain learn to weave lace?" "oh, father, please, you won't say nay!" pleaded cissy, embracing her father's arm with both her own. "i want to bring you in some money." cissy spoke with a most important air. "you know, of an even, i alway have a bit of time, after will and baby be abed, and at times too in the day, when will's out with george felstede, and i'm minding baby; i can rock her with my feet while i make lace with my hands. and you know, father, will and baby 'll be growing big by and bye, and you won't have enough for us all without we do something. and rose says she'll learn me how, and that if i have a lace pillow--and it won't cost very much, father!--i can alway take it up for a few minutes by nows and thens, when i have a bit of time, and then, don't you see, father? i can make a little money for you. please, _please_ don't say i mustn't!" cried cissy, growing quite talkative in her eagerness. johnson and rose looked at each other, and rose laughed; but though cissy's father smiled too, he soon grew grave, and laid his hand on his little girl's head, as she stood looking up earnestly. "nay, my little maid, i'll never say nought of the sort. if rose here will be so good as to learn thee aught that is good, whether for body or soul, i will be truly thankful to her, and bid thee do the like and be diligent to learn. good little maid! god bless thee!" then, as cissy trotted into the cottage, well pleased, johnson added, "bless the little maid's heart! she grows more like her mother in heaven every day. i'll never stay the little fingers from doing what they can. it'll not bring much in, i reckon, but it'll be a pleasure to the child, and good for her to be ever busy at something, that she mayn't fall into idle ways. think you not so, rose?" "indeed, and it so will, johnson," answered rose; "not that i think cissy and idle ways 'll ever have much to do one with the other. she's not one of that sort. but i shouldn't wonder if lace-weaving brings in more than you think. i've made a pretty penny of it, and i wasn't so young as cissy when i learned the work, and it's like everything else-- them that begin young have the best chance to make good workers. she'll be a rare comfort to you, cissy, if she goes on as she's begun." johnson did not reply for a moment. when he did, it was to say, "well, god keep us all! i'm right thankful to you, rose, for all your goodness to my little maid. good den!" when she had returned the "good evening," rose set off home, and walked rather fast till she came to margaret thurston's cottage. after the little business was transacted between her and margaret, rose inquired if they had heard of mistress silverside's arrest. both margaret and her husband seemed thunderstruck. "nay, we know nought thereof," answered thurston, "pray god it be not true! there'll be more an' it so be." "i fear so much," said rose. she did not tell her mother, for alice had not been well lately, and rose wished to spare her an apprehension which might turn out to be quite unfounded, or at least exaggerated. but she told her step-father, and old mount looked very grave. "god grant it be not so!" said he. "but if it be, rose, thou wist they have our names in their black list of heretics." "ay, father, i know they have." "god keep us all!" said william mount, looking earnestly into the fire. and rose knew that while he might intend to include being kept safe, yet he meant, far more than that, being kept true. when john love called at johnson's cottage to fetch robert purcas, the two walked about a hundred yards on the way to bentley without either speaking a word. then robert suddenly stopped. "look you, love! what would you with me? i cannot go far from thorpe to-night. i was sent with a message to johnson, and i have not found a chance to deliver it yet." "must it be to-night? and what chance look you for?" "ay, it must!" answered robert earnestly. "what i look for is yon black snake coming out of his hole, and then slip i in and deliver my message." love nodded. he knew well enough who the black snake was. "then maybe you came with the like word i did. was it to warn johnson to 'scape ere the bailiff should be on him?" "ay, it was. and you?" "i came to the same end, but not alone for johnson. robin, thou hadst best see to thyself. dost know thou art on the black list." "i've looked for that, this many a day. but so art thou, love; and thou hast a wife to care for, and i've none." "i'm in danger anyway, rob, but there's a chance for thee. think of thy old father, and haste thee, lad." robert shook his head. "i promised to warn johnson," he said; "and i gave my word for it to one that i love right dearly. i'll not break my word. no, love; i tarry here till i've seen him. the lord must have a care of my old father if they take me." love found it impossible to move robert from his resolution. he bade him good-night and turned away. chapter eighteen. what befell some of them. for half-an-hour, safely hidden behind a hedge, robert purcas watched the door of johnson's cottage, until at last he saw the priest come out, and go up the lane for a short distance. then he stopped, looked round, and gave a low, peculiar whistle. a man jumped down from the bank on the other side of the lane, with whom the priest held a long, low-toned conversation. robert knew he could not safely move before they were out of the way. at length they parted, and he just caught the priest's final words. "good: we shall have them all afore the even." "that you shall not, if god speed me!" said robert to himself. the priest went up the lane towards bentley, and the man who had been talking with him took the opposite way to thorpe. when his footsteps had died away, robert crept out from the shelter of the hedge, and made his way in the dark to johnson's cottage. a rap on the door brought cissy. "who is it, please?" she said, "because i can't see." "it is robin purcas, cis. i want a word with thy father." "come in, robin!" called johnson's voice from within. "i could see thou wert bursting with some news not to be spoken in the presence but just gone. what ails thee, man?" "ay, i was, and i promised to tell you. jack, thou must win away ere daylight, or the bailiff shall be on thee. set these little ones in safe guard, and hie thee away with all the speed thou mayest." "is it come so near?" said johnson, gravely. "father, you're not going nowhere without me!" said cissy, creeping up to him, and slipping her hand in his. "you can leave will and baby with neighbour ursula: but i'll not be left unless you bid me--and you won't father? you can never do without me? i must go where you go." "she's safe, i reckon," said robert, answering johnson's look: "they'd never do no mischief to much as she. only maybe she'd be more out of reach if i took her with me. they'll seek to breed her up in a convent, most like." cissy felt her father's hand tighten upon hers. "i'm not going with you, nor nobody!" said she. "i'll go with father. nobody'll get me nowhere else, without they carry me." johnson seemed to wake up, as if till then he had scarcely understood what it all meant. "god bless thee for the warning, lad!" he said. "now hie thee quick, and get out of reach thyself cis, go up and fetch a warm wrap for baby, and all her clothes; i'll take her next door. i reckon will must tarry there too. it'd be better for thee, cis: but i'll not compel thee, if thy little heart's set on going with me. thoul't have to rough it, little maid." "i'll not stop nowhere!" was cissy's determination. robert bade them good-bye with a smile, closed the door, and set off down the lane as fast as the darkness made it prudent. he did not think it wise to go through the village, so he made a _detour_ by some fields, and came into the road again on the other side of thorpe. he had not gone many yards, when he became aware that a number of lights were approaching, accompanied by a noise of voices. robert turned straight round. if he could get back to the stile which led into the fields, he would be safer: and if not, still it would be better to be overtaken than to meet a possible enemy face to face. he would be less likely to be noticed in the former case than in the latter--at least so he thought. there must be a good number of people coming behind him, judging from the voices. at length they came up with him. "pray you, young man, how far be we from thorpe?" "you are very nigh, straight on," was robert's answer. "do you belong there?" "no, i'm nigh a stranger to these parts: i'm from the eastern side of the county. i can't tell you much about folks, if that be your meaning." "and what do you here, if you be a stranger?" "i've a job o' work at saint osyth, at this present." "what manner of work?" "i'm a fuller by trade." robert had already recognised that he was talking to the bailiff's searching party. every minute that he could keep them was a minute more for johnson and the little ones. "know you a man named johnson?" "what, here?" "ay, at thorpe." robert pretended to consider. "well, let's see--there's will johnson the miller, and luke johnson the weaver, and--eh, there's ever so many johnsons! i couldn't say to one or another, without i knew more." "john johnson; he's a labouring man." "well, there is johnsons that lives up by the wood, but i'm none so sure of the man's name. i think it's andrew, but i'll not say, certain. it may be john; i couldn't speak, not to be sure." "let him be, gregory; he knows nought," said the bailiff. robert touched his cap, and fell behind. the bailiff suddenly turned round. "what's your own name?" it was a terrible temptation! if he gave a false name, the strong probability was that they would pass on, and he would very likely get safe away. it was johnson of whom they were thinking, not himself. but that would enable them to reach johnson's cottage a minute sooner, and it would be a cowardly lie. no! robert purcas had not so learned christ. he gave his name honestly. "robert purcas! if that's not on my list--" said the bailiff, feeling in his pocket. "ay, here it is--stay! _william_, purcas, of booking, fuller, aged twenty, single; is that you?" "my name is robert, not william," said the young man. "but thou art a fuller? and single? and aged twenty?" "ay, all that is so." "dost thou believe the bread of the sacred host to be transmuted after consecration into the body of christ, so that no substance of bread is left there at all?" "i do not. i cannot, for i see the bread." "he's a heretic!" cried simnel. "robert or william, it is all one. take the heretic!" and so robert purcas was seized, and carried to the moot hall in colchester--a fate from which one word of falsehood would have freed him, but it would have cost him his father's smile. the moot hall of colchester was probably the oldest municipal building in england. it was erected soon after the conquest, and its low circular arches and piers ornamented the high street until , when the town vandals were pleased to destroy it because it impeded the traffic. robert was taken into the dungeon, and the great door slammed to behind him. he could not see for a few minutes, coming fresh from the light of day: and before he was able to make anything out clearly, an old lady's voice accosted him. "robert purcas, if i err not?" she said. "i am sorry to behold thee here, friend." "truly, mistress, more than i am, that am come hither in christ's cause." "ay? then thou art well come." "methinks it is mistress silverside?" "thou sayest well. i shall have company now," said the old lady with a smile. "methought some of my brethren and sisters should be like to have after." "i reckon," responded purcas, "we be sure at the least of our father's company." the great door just then rolled back, and they heard the gaoler's voice outside. "gramercy, but this is tidy work!" cried he. "never had no such prisoners here afore. i don't know what to do with 'em. there, get you in! you aren't the first there." there was a moment's pause, and then mrs silverside and robert, who were looking to see what uncommon sort of prisoners could be at hand, found that their eyes had to come down considerably nearer the floor, as the gaoler let in, hand in hand, cissy and will johnson, followed by their father. chapter nineteen. "father's come too!" "why, my dear hearts!" cried old mrs silverside, as the children came in. "how won ye hither?" "please, we haven't been naughty," said will, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. "father's come too, so it's all right," added cissy in a satisfied tone. mrs silverside turned to robert purcas. "is not here a lesson for thee and me, my brother? our father is come too: god is with us, and thus it is all right." "marry, these heretics beareth a good brag!" said wastborowe the gaoler to his man. it is bad grammar now to use a singular verb with a plural noun; but in it was correct english over the whole south of england, and the use of the singular with the singular, or the plural with the plural, was a peculiarity of the northern dialect. "they always doth," answered the under-gaoler. "will ye be of as good courage, think you," asked wastborowe, "the day ye stand up by colne water?" "god knoweth," was the reverent answer of mrs silverside. "if he holds us up, then shall we stand." "they be safe kept whom he keepeth," said johnson. "please, mr wastborowe," said cissy in a businesslike manner, "would you mind telling me when we shall be burned?" the gaoler turned round and stared at his questioner. "thou aren't like to be burned, i reckon," said he with a laugh. "i must, if father is," was cissy's calm response. "it'll hurt a bit, i suppose; but you see when we get to heaven afterwards, every thing will be so good and pleasant, i don't think we need care much. do you, please, mr wastborowe?" "marry come up, thou scrap of a chirping canary!" answered the gaoler, half roughly and half amused. "if babes like this be in such minds, 'tis no marvel their fathers and mothers stand to it." "but i'm not a baby, mr wastborowe!" said cissy, rather affronted. "will and baby are both younger than me. i'm going in ten, and i takes care of father." mr wastborowe, who was drinking ale out of a huge tankard, removed it from his lips to laugh. "mighty good care thou'lt take, i'll be bound!" "yes, i do, mr wastborowe," replied cissy, quite gravely; "i dress father's meat and mend his clothes, and love him. that's taking care of him, isn't it?" the gaoler's men, who were accustomed to see every body in the prison appear afraid of him, were evidently much amused by the perfect fearlessness of cissy. wastborowe himself seemed to think it a very good joke. "and who takes care of thee?" asked he. cissy gave her usual answer. "god takes care of me." "and not of thy father?" said wastborowe with a sneer. the sneer passed by cissy quite harmlessly. "god takes care of all of us," she said. "he helps father to take care of me, and he helps me to take care of father." "he'll be taken goodly care of when he's burned," said the gaoler coarsely, taking another draught out of the tankard. cissy considered that point. "please, mr wastborowe, we mustn't expect to be taken better care of than the lord jesus; and he had to suffer, you know. but it won't signify when we get to heaven, i suppose." "heretics don't go to heaven!" replied wastborowe. "i don't know what heretics are," said cissy; "but every body who loves the lord jesus is sure to get there. satan would not want them, you know; and jesus will want them, for he died for them. he'll look after us, i expect. don't you think so, mr wastborowe?" "hold thy noise!" said the gaoler, rising, with the empty jug in his hand. he wanted some more ale, and he was tired of amusing himself with cissy. "hush thee, my little maid!" said her father, laying his hand on her head. "is he angry, father?" asked cissy, looking up. "i said nothing wrong, did i?" "there's somewhat wrong," responded he, "but it's not thee, child." meanwhile wastborowe was crossing the court to his own house, jug in hand. opening the door, he set down the jug on the table, with the short command, "fill that." "you may tarry till i've done," answered audrey, calmly ironing on. she was the only person in the place who was not afraid of her husband. in fact, he was afraid of her when, as he expressed it, she "was wrong side up." "come, wife! i can't wait," replied wastborowe in a tone which he never used to any living creature but audrey or a priest. audrey coolly set down the iron on its stand, folded up the shirt which she had just finished, and laid another on the board. "you can, wait uncommon well, john wastborowe," said she; "you've had as much as is good for you already, and maybe a bit to spare. i can't leave my ironing." "am i to get it myself, then?" asked the gaoler, sulkily. "just as you please," was the calm response. "i'm not going." wastborowe took up his jug, went to the cellar, and drew the ale for himself, in a meek, subdued style, very different indeed from the aspect which he wore to his prisoners. he had scarcely left the door when a shrill voice summoned him to-- "come back and shut the door, thou blundering dizzard! when will men ever have a bit of sense?" the gaoler came back to shut the door, and then, returning to the dungeon, showed himself so excessively surly and overbearing, that his men whispered to one another that "he'd been having it out with his mistress." before he recovered his equanimity, the bailiff returned and called him into the courtyard. "hearken, wastborowe: how many of these have you now in ward? well-nigh all, methinks." and he read over the list. "elizabeth wood, christian hare, rose fletcher, joan kent, agnes stanley, margaret simson, robert purcas, agnes silverside, john johnson, elizabeth foulkes." "got 'em all save that last," said wastborowe, "who is she? i know not the name. by the same token, what didst with the babe? there were three of johnson's children, and one in arms." "left it wi' jane hiltoft," said the gaoler, gruffly. "i didn't want it screeching here." the bailiff nodded. "maybe she can tell us who this woman is," said he; and stepping a little nearer the porter's lodge, he summoned the porter's wife. mrs hiltoft came to the door with little helen johnson in her arms. "well, i don't know," said she. "i'll tell you what: you'd best ask audrey wastborowe; she's a bit of a gossip, and i reckon she knows everybody in colchester, by name and face, if no more. she'll tell you if anybody can." the bailiff stepped across the court, and rapped at the gaoler's door. he was desired by a rather shrill voice to come in. he just opened the door about an inch, and spoke through it. "audrey, do you know aught of one elizabeth foulkes?" "liz'beth what-did-you-say?" inquired mrs wastborowe, hastily drying her arms on her apron, and coming forward. "elizabeth foulkes," repeated the bailiff. "what, yon lass o' clere's the clothier? oh, ay, you'll find her in balcon lane, at the magpie. a tall, well-favoured young maid she is-- might be a princess, to look at her. what's she been doing, now?" "heresy," said the bailiff, shortly. "heresy! dear, dear, to think of it! well, now, who could have thought it? but master clere's a bit unsteady in that way, his self, ain't he?" "oh nay, he's reconciled." "oh!" the tone was significant. "why, was you wanting yon maid o' mistress clere's?" said the porter's wife. "you'll have her safe enough, for i met amy clere this even, and she said her mother was downright vexed with their bess, and had turned the key on her. i did not know it was her you meant. i've never heard her called nought but bess, you see." "then that's all well," said maynard. "i'll tarry for her till the morrow, for i'm well wearied to-night." chapter twenty. led to the slaughter. the long hours of that day wore on, and nobody came again to elizabeth in the porch-chamber. the dusk fell, and she heard the sounds of locking up the house and going to bed, and began to understand that neither supper nor bed awaited her that night. elizabeth quietly cleared a space on the floor in the moonlight, heaping boxes and baskets on one another, till she had room to lie down, and then, after kneeling to pray, she slept more peacefully than queen mary did in her palace. she was awoke suddenly at last. it was broad daylight, and somebody was rapping at the street door. "amy!" she heard mistress clere call from her bedchamber, "look out and see who is there." amy slept at the front of the house, in the room next to the porch-chamber. elizabeth rose to her feet, giving her garments a shake down as the only form of dressing just then in her power, and looked out of the window. the moment she did so she knew that one of the supreme moments of her life had come. before the door stood mr maynard, the bailiff of colchester--the man who had marched off the twenty-three prisoners to london in the previous august. everybody who knew him knew that he was a "stout papist," to whom it was dear delight to bring a protestant to punishment. elizabeth did not doubt for an instant that she was the one chosen for his next victim. just as amy clere put her head out of the window. mr maynard, who did not reckon patience among his chief virtues, and who was tired of waiting, signed to one of his men to give another sharp rap, accompanied by a shout of--"open, in the queen's name!" "saints, love us and help us!" ejaculated amy, taking her head in again. "mother, it's the queen's men!" "go down and open to 'em," was mrs clere's next order. "eh, i durstn't if it was ever so!" screamed amy in reply. "may i unlock the door and send bessy?" "thee do as thou art bid!" came in the gruff tones of her father. "come, i'll go with thee," said her mother. "tell master bailiff we're at hand, or they'll mayhap break the door in." a third violent rap enforced mrs clere's command. "have a bit of patience, master bailiff!" cried amy from her window. "we're a-coming as quick as may be. let a body get some clothes on, do!" somebody under the window was heard to laugh. then mrs clere went downstairs, her heavy tread followed by the light run of her daughter's steps; and then elizabeth heard the bolts drawn back, and the bailiff and his men march into the kitchen of the magpie. "good-morrow, mistress clere. i am verily sorry to come to the house of a good catholic on so ill an errand. but i am in search of a maid of yours, by name elizabeth foulkes, whose name hath been presented a afore the queen's grace's commission for heresy. is this the maid?" mr maynard, as he spoke, laid his hand not very gently on amy's shoulder. "eh, bless me, no!" cried amy, in terror. "i'm as good a catholic as you or any. i'll say aught you want me, and i don't care what it is-- that the moon's made o' green cheese, if you will, and i'd a shive last night for supper. don't take _me_, for mercy's sake!" "i'm not like," said mr maynard, laughing, and giving amy a rough pat on the back. "you aren't the sort i want." "you're after bess foulkes, aren't you?" said mrs clere. "amy, there's the key. go fetch her down. i locked her up, you see, that she should be safe when wanted, i'm a true woman to queen and church, i am, master bailiff. you'll find no heresy here, outside yon jade of a bessy." mrs clere knew well that suspicion had attached to her husband's name in time past, which made her more desirous to free herself from all complicity with what the authorities were pleased to call heresy. amy ran upstairs and unlocked the door of the porch-chamber. "bessy, the bailiff's come for thee!" a faint flush rose to elizabeth's face as she stood up. "now do be discreet, bessy, and say as he says. bless you, it's only words! i told him i'd say the moon was made o' green cheese if he wanted. why shouldn't you?" "mistress amy, it would be dishonour to my lord, and i am ready for anything but that." "good lack! couldst not do a bit o' penance at after? bess, it's thy life that's in danger. do be wise in time, lass." "it is only this life," said elizabeth quietly, "and `he that saveth his life shall lose it.' they that be faithful to the end shall have the crown of life.--master bailiff, i am ready." the bailiff looked up at the fair, tall, queenly maiden who stood before him. "i trust thou art ready to submit to the church," he said. "it were sore pity thou shouldst lose life and all things." "nay, i desire to win them," answered elizabeth. "i am right ready to submit to all which it were good for me to submit to." "come, well said!" replied the bailiff; and he tied the cord round her hands, and led her away to the moot hall. just stop and think a moment, what it would be to be led in this way through the streets of a town where nearly everybody knew you, as if you had been a thief or a murderer!--led by a cord like an animal about to be sold--nay, as our master, christ, was led, like a sheep to the slaughter! fancy what it would be, to a girl who had always been respectable and well-behaved to be used in this way: to hear the rough, coarse jokes of the bystanders and of the men who were leading her, and not to have one friend with her--not one living creature that cared what became of her, except that lord who had once died for her, and for whom she was now, for aught she knew, upon her way to die! and even he _seemed_ as if he did not care. men did these things, and he kept silence. don't you think it was hard to bear? when elizabeth reached the moot hall and was taken to the prison, for an instant she felt as if she had reached home and friends. mrs silverside bade her welcome with a kindly smile, and robert purcas came up and kissed her--people kissed each other then instead of shaking hands as we do now,--and elizabeth felt their sympathy a true comfort. but she was calm under her suffering until she caught sight of cissy. then an exclamation of pain broke from her. "o cissy, cissy; i am so sorry for thee!" "o bessy, but i'm so glad! don't say you're sorry." "why, cissy, how canst thou be glad? dost know what it all signifieth?" "i know they've taken father, and i'm sorry enough for that; but then father always said they would some day. but don't you see why i'm glad? they've got me too. i was always proper 'feared they'd take father and leave me all alone with the children; and he'd have missed us dreadful! now, you see, i can tend on him, and do everything for him; and that's why i'm glad. if it had to be, you know." elizabeth looked up at cissy's father, and he said in a husky voice,-- "`of such is the kingdom of heaven.'" chapter twenty one. before the commissioners. "bessy," said cissy in a whisper, "do you think they'll burn us all to-day?" "i reckon, sweet heart, they be scarce like to burn thee." "but they'll have to do to me whatever they do to father!" cried cissy, earnestly. "dear child, thou wist not what burning is." "oh, but i've burnt my fingers before now," said cissy, with an air of extensive experience which would have suited an old woman. "it's not proper pleasant: but the worst's afterwards, and there wouldn't be any afterwards, would there? it would be heaven afterwards, wouldn't it? i don't see that there's so much to be 'feared of in being burnt. if they didn't burn me, and did will and baby, and--and father"--and cissy's voice faltered, and she began to sob--"that would be dreadful--dreadful! o bessy, won't you ask god not to give them leave? they couldn't, could they, unless he did?" "nay, dear heart, not unless he did," answered elizabeth, feeling her own courage strengthened by the child's faith. "then if you and i both ask him _very_ hard,--o bessy! don't you think he will?" before elizabeth could answer, johnson said--"i wouldn't, cis." "you wouldn't, father! please why?" "because, dear heart, he knoweth better than we what is good for us. sometimes, when folk ask god too earnestly for that they desire, he lets them have it, but in punishment, not in mercy. it would have been a sight better for the israelites if they hadn't had those quails. dost thou mind how david saith, `he gave them their desire, but sent leanness withall into their souls?' i'd rather be burnt, cis, than live with a lean soul, and my father in heaven turning away his face from me." cissy considered. "father, i could never get along a bit, if you were so angry you wouldn't look at me!" "truly, dear heart, and i would not have my father so. ask the lord what thou wilt, cis, if it be his will; only remember that his will is best for us--the happiest as well as the most profitable." "wilt shut up o' thy preachment?" shouted wastborowe, with a severe blow to johnson. "thou wilt make the child as ill an heretic as thyself, and we mean to bring her up a good catholic christian!" johnson made no answer to the gaoler's insolent command. a look of great pain came into his face, and he lifted his head up towards the sky, as if he were holding communion with his father in heaven. elizabeth guessed his thoughts. if he were to be martyred, and his little helpless children to be handed over to the keeping of priests who would teach them to commit idolatry, and forbid them to read the bible-- that seemed a far worse prospect in his eyes than even the agony of seeing them suffer. that, at the worst, would be an hour's anguish, to be followed by an eternity of happy rest: but the other might mean the loss of all things--body and soul alike. little will did not enter into the matter. he might have understood something if he had been paying attention, but he was not attending, and therefore he did not. but cissy, to whom her father was the centre of the world, and who knew his voice by heart, understood his looks as readily as his words. "father!" she said, looking at him, "don't be troubled about us. i'll never believe nobody that says different from what you've learned us, and i'll tell will and baby they mustn't mind them neither." and elizabeth added softly--"`i will be a god to thee, and to thy seed after thee.' `leave thy fatherless children; i will preserve them alive.'" "god bless you both!" said johnson, and he could say no more. the next day the twelve prisoners accused of heresy were had up for examination before the commissioners, sir john kingston, mr roper, and mr boswell, the bishop's scribe. six of them--elizabeth wood, christian hare, rose fletcher, joan kent, agnes stanley, and margaret simson--were soon disposed of. they had been in prison for a fortnight or more, they were terribly frightened, and they were not strong in the faith. they easily consented to be reconciled to the church--to say whatever the priests bade them, and to believe--or pretend to believe-- all that they were desired. robert purcas was the next put on trial. the bishop's scribe called him (in the account he wrote to his master) "obstinate, and a glorious prating heretic." what this really meant was that his arguments were too powerful to answer. he must have had considerable ability, for though only twenty years of age, and a village tradesman, he was set down in the charge-sheet as "lettered," namely, a well-educated man, which in those days was most extraordinary for a man of that description. "when confessed you last?" asked the commissioners of purcas. "i have not confessed of long time," was the answer, "nor will i; for priests have no power to remit sin." "come you to church, to hear the holy mass?" "i do not, nor will i; for all that is idolatry." "have you never, then, received the blessed sacrament of the altar?" "i did receive the supper of the lord in king edward's time, but not since: nor will i, except it be ministered to me as it was then." "do you not worship the sacred host?" that is, the consecrated bread in the lord's supper. "those who worship it are idolaters!" said robert purcas, without the least hesitation: "that which there is used is bread and wine only." "have him away!" cried sir john kingston. "what need to question further so obstinate a man?" so they had him away--not being able to answer him--and agnes silverside was called in his stead. she was very calm, but as determined as purcas. "come hither, mistress!" said boswell, roughly. "why, what have we here in the charge-sheet? `agnes silverside, _alias_ smith, _alias_ downes, _alias_ may!' hast thou had four husbands, old witch, or how comest by so many names?" "sir," was the quiet answer, "my name is smith from my father, and i have been thrice wed." the commissioners, having first amused themselves by a little rough joking at the prisoner's expense, inquired which of her husbands was the last. "my present name is silverside," she replied. "and what was he, this silverside?--a tanner or a chimney-sweep?" "sir, he was a priest." the commissioners--who knew it all beforehand--professed themselves exceedingly shocked. god never forbade priests to marry under the old testament, nor did he ever command christian ministers to be unmarried men: but the church of rome has forbidden her priests to have any wives, as saint paul told timothy would be done by those who departed from the faith: [see one timothy four .] thus "teaching for doctrines the commandments of men." [see matthew fifteen verse .] chapter twenty two. gently handled. when the commissioners had tormented the priest's widow as long as they thought proper, they called on her to answer the charges brought against her. "dost thou believe that in the blessed sacrament of the altar the bread and wine becometh the very body and blood of christ, so soon as the word of consecration be pronounced?" "nay: it is but bread and wine before it is received; and when it is received in faith and ministered by a worthy minister, then it is christ flesh and blood spiritually, and not otherwise." "dost though worship the blessed sacrament?" "truly, nay: for ye make the sacrament an idol. it ought not to be worshipped with knocking, kneeling or holding up of hands." "wilt thou come to church and hear mass?" "that will i not, so long as ye do worship to other than god almighty. nothing that is made can be the same thing as he that made it. they must needs be idolators, and of the meanest sort, that worship the works of their own hands." "aroint thee, old witch! wilt thou go to confession?" "neither will i that, for no priest hath power to remit sin that is against god. to him surely will i confess: and having so done, i have no need to make confession to men." "take the witch away!" cried the chief commissioner. "she's a froward, obstinate heretic, only fit to make firewood." the gaoler led her out of the court, and john johnson was summoned next. "what is thy name, and how old art thou?" "my name is john johnson; i am a labouring man, of the age of four and thirty years." "canst read?" "but a little." "then how darest thou set thee up against the holy doctors of the church, that can read latin?" "cannot a man be saved without he read latin?" "hold thine impudent tongue! it is our business to question, and thine to answer. where didst learn thy pestilent doctrine?" "i learned the gospel of christ jesus, if that be what you mean by pestilent doctrine, from master trudgeon at the first. he learned me that the sacrament, as ye minister it, is an idol, and that no priest hath power to remit sin." "dost thou account of this trudgeon as a true prophet?" "ay, i do." "what then sayest thou to our saviour christ's word to his apostles, `whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them'?" "marry, i say nought, without you desire it." "what meanest by that?" "why, you are not apostles, nor yet the priests that be now alive. he said not, `whosesoever sins sir thomas tye shall remit, they are remitted unto them.'" "thou foolish man, sir thomas tye is successor of the apostles." "well, but it sayeth not neither, `whosesoever sins ye and your successors do remit.' i'll take the words as they stand, by your leave. to apostles were they said, and to apostles will i leave them." "the man hath no reason in him!" said kingston. "have him away likewise." "please your worships," said the gaoler, "here be all that are indicted. there is but one left, and she was presented only for not attending at mass nor confession." "bring her up!" and elizabeth foulkes stepped up to the table, and courtesied to the representatives of the queen. "what is thy name?" "elizabeth foulkes." "how old art thou?" "twenty years." "art thou a wife?" girls commonly married then younger than they do now. the usual length of human life was shorter: people who reached sixty were looked upon as we now regard those of eighty, and a man of seventy was considered much as one of ninety or more would be at the present time. "nay, i am a maid," said elizabeth. the word maid was only just beginning to be used instead of servant; it generally meant an unmarried woman. "what is thy calling?" "i am servant to master nicholas clere, clothier, of balcon lane." "art colchester-born?" "i was born at stoke nayland, in suffolk." "and wherefore dost thou not come to mass?" "because i hold the sacrament of the altar to be but bread and wine, which may not be worshipped under peril of idolatry." "well, and why comest not to confession?" "because no priest hath power to remit sins." "hang 'em! they are all in a story!" said the chief commissioner, wrathfully. "but she's a well-favoured maid, this: it were verily pity to burn her, if we could win her to recant." what a poor, weak, mean thing human nature is! the men who had no pity for the white hair of agnes silverside, or the calm courage of john johnson, or even the helpless innocence of little cissy: such things as these did not touch them at all--these very men were anxious to save elizabeth foulkes, not because she was good, but because she was beautiful. it is a sad, sad blunder, which people often make, to set beauty above goodness. some very wicked things have been done in this world, simply by thinking too much of beauty. admiration is a good thing in its proper place; but a great deal of mischief comes when it gets into the wrong one. whenever you admire a bad man because he is clever, or a foolish woman because she is pretty, you are letting admiration get out of his place. if we had lived when the lord jesus was upon earth, we should not have found people admiring him. he was not beautiful. "his face was marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men." and would it not have been dreadful if we had admired pontius pilate and judas iscariot, and had seen no beauty in him who is "altogether lovely" to the hearts of those whom the holy ghost has taught to love him? so take care what sort of beauty you admire, and make sure that goodness goes along with it. we may be quite certain that however much men thought of elizabeth's beautiful face, god thought very little of it. the beauty which he saw in her was her love to the lord jesus, and her firm stand against what would dishonour him. this sort of beauty all of us can have. oh, do ask god to make you beautiful in _his_ eyes! no sooner had the chief commissioner spoken than a voice in the court called out,-- "pray you, worshipful sirs, save this young maid! i am her mother's brother, thomas holt of colchester, and i do you to wit she is of a right good inclination, and no wise perverse. i do entreat you, grant her yet another chance." then a gentleman stepped forward from the crowd of listeners. "worshipful sirs," said he, "may i have leave to take charge of this young maiden, to the end that she may be reconciled to the church, and obtain remission of her errors? truly, as master commissioner saith, it were pity so fair a creature were made food for the fire." "who are you?--and what surety give you?" asked sir john. sir thomas tye rose from his seat on the bench. "please it, your worships, that is master ashby of this town, a good catholic man, and well to be trusted. if your worships be pleased to show mercy to the maid, as indeed i would humbly entreat you to do, there were no better man than he to serve you in this matter." the priest having spoken in favour of mr ashby the commissioners required no further surety. "art thou willing to be reformed?" they asked elizabeth. "sirs," she answered cautiously, "i am willing to be shown god's true way, if so be i err from it." this was enough for the commissioners. they wanted to get her free, and they therefore accepted from her words which would probably have been used in vain by the rest. mr ashby was charged to keep and "reconcile" her, which he promised to do, or to feed her on barley bread if she proved obstinate. as elizabeth turned to follow him she passed close by robert purcas, whom the gaoler was just about to take back to prison. "`thou hast set them in slippery places,'" whispered purcas as she passed him. "keep thou true to christ. o elizabeth, mine own love, keep true!" the tears rose to elizabeth's eyes. "pray for me, robin," she said. and then each was led away. chapter twenty three. respite. the commissioners who tried these prisoners were thoroughly worldly men, who really cared nothing about the doctrines which they burned people for not believing. had it been otherwise, when queen elizabeth came to the throne, less than two years afterwards, these men would have shown themselves willing to suffer in their turn. but most of them did not do this--seldom even to the extent of losing promotion, scarcely ever to that of losing life. they simply wheeled round again to what they had been in the reign of edward the sixth. it is possible to respect men who are willing to lose their lives for the sake of what they believe to be true, even though you may think them quite mistaken. but how can you respect a man who will not run the risk of losing a situation or a few pounds in defence of the truth? it is not possible. after the trial of the colchester prisoners, the commissioners passed on to other places, and the town was quiet for a time. mrs silverside, johnson and the children, and purcas, remained in prison in the moot hall, and elizabeth foulkes was as truly a prisoner in the house of henry ashby. at first she was very kindly treated, in the hope of inducing her to recant. but as time went on, things were altered. mr ashby found that what elizabeth understood by "being shown god's true way," was not being argued with by a priest, nor being commanded to obey the church, but being pointed to some passage in the bible which agreed with what he said; and since what he said was not in accordance with the bible, of course he could not show her any texts which agreed with it. the church of rome herself admits that people who read the bible for themselves generally become protestants. does not common sense show that in that case the protestant doctrines must be the doctrines of the bible? why should rome be so anxious to shut up the bible if her own doctrines are to be found there? above four months passed on, and no change came to the prisoners, but there had not been any fresh arrests. the other gospellers began to breathe more freely, and to hope that the worst had come already. mrs wade was left at liberty; mr ewring had not been taken; surely all would go well now! how often we think the worst must be over, just a minute before it comes upon us! a little rap on margaret thurston's door brought her to open it. "why, rose! i'm fain to see thee, maid. come in." "my mother bade me tell you, margaret," said rose, when the door was shut, "that there shall be a scripture reading in our house this even. will you come?" "that will we, right gladly, dear heart. at what hour?" "midnight. we dare not afore." "we'll be there. how fares thy mother to-day?" "why, not over well. she seems but ill at ease. her hands burn, and she is ever athirst. 'tis an ill rheum, methinks." "ay, she has caught a bad cold," said margaret. "rose, i'll tell you what--we'll come a bit afore midnight, and see if we cannot help you. my master knows a deal touching herbs; he's well-nigh as good as any apothecary, though i say it, and he'll compound an herb drink that shall do her good, with god's blessing, while i help you in the house. what say you? have i well said?" "indeed, margaret, and i'd be right thankful if you would, for it'll be hard on father if he's neither mother nor me to do for him--she, sick abed, and me waiting on her." "be sure it will! but i hope it'll not be so bad as that. well, then, look you, we'll shut up the hut and come after you. you haste on to her, and when i've got things a bit tidy, and my master's come from work--he looked to be overtime to-night--we'll run over to bentley, and do what we can." rose thanked her again, and went on with increased speed. she found her mother no better, and urged her to go to bed, telling her that margaret was close at hand. it was now about five in the afternoon. alice agreed to this, for she felt almost too poorly to sit up. she went to bed, and rose flew about the kitchen, getting all finished that she could before margaret should arrive. it was saturday night, and the earliest hours of the sabbath were to be ushered in by the "reading." only a few neighbours were asked, for it was necessary now to be very careful. half-a-dozen might be invited, as if to supper; but the times when a hundred or more had assembled to hear the word of god were gone by. would they ever come again? they dared not begin to read until all prying eyes and ears were likely to be closed in sleep; and the reader's voice was low, that nobody might be roused next door. few people could read then, especially among the labouring class, so that, except on these occasions, the poorer gospellers had no hope of hearing the words of the lord. the reading was over, and one after another of the guests stole silently out into the night--black, noiseless shadows, going up the lane into the village, or down it on the way to thorpe. at length the last was gone except the thurstons, who offered to stay for the night. john thurston lay down in the kitchen, and margaret, finding alice mount apparently better, said she would share rose's bed. alice mount's malady was what we call a bad feverish cold, and generally we do not expect it to do anything more than make the patient very uncomfortable for a week. but in queen mary's days they knew very much less about colds than we do, and they were much more afraid of them. it was only six years since the last attack of the terrible sweating sickness--the last ever to be, but they did not know that--and people were always frightened of anything like a cold turning to that dreadful epidemic wherein, as king edward the sixth writes in his diary, "if one took cold he died within three hours, and if he escaped, it held him but nine hours, or ten at the most." it was, therefore, a relief to hear alice say that she felt better, and urge rose to go to bed. "well, it scarce seems worth while going to bed," said margaret. "what time is it? can you see the church clock, rose?" "we can when it's light," said rose; "but i think you'll not see it now." margaret drew back the little curtain, but all was dark, and she let it drop again. "it'll be past one, i reckon," said she. "oh, ay; a good way on toward two," was rose's answer. "rose, have you heard aught of bessy foulkes of late?" "nought. i've tried to see her, but they keep hot so close at master ashby's there's no getting to her." "and those poor little children of johnson's. they're yet in prison, trow?" "oh, ay. i wish they'd have let us have the baby jane hiltoft has it. she'll care it well enough for the body: but for the soul--" "oh, when johnson's burned--as he will be, i reckon--the children 'll be bred up in convents, be sure," was margaret's answer. "nay! i'll be sure of nought so bad as that, as long as god's in heaven." "there's no miracles now o' days, rose." "there's god's care, just as much as in elijah's days. and, margaret, they've burned little children afore now." "eh, don't, rose! you give me the cold chills!" "what's that?" rose was listening intently. "what's what?" said margaret, who had heard nothing. "that! don't you hear the far-off tramp of men?" they looked at each other fearfully. margaret knew well enough of what rose thought--the bailiff and his searching party. they stopped their undressing. nearer and nearer came that measured tread of a body of men. it paused, went on, came close under the window, and paused again. then a thundering rattle came at the door. "open, in the queen's name!" then they knew it had come--not the worst, but that which led to it--the beginning of the end. rose quietly, but quickly, put her gown on again. before she was ready, she heard her step-father's heavy tread as he went down the stairs; heard him draw the bolt, and say, as he opened the door, in calm tones-- "good-morrow, master bailiff. pray you enter with all honour, an' you come in the queen's name." just then the church clock struck two. two o'clock on the sabbath morning! chapter twenty four. rose's fiery ordeal. "art thou come, dear heart?" said alice mount, as her daughter ran hurriedly into her bedchamber. "that is well. rose, the master is come, and calleth for us, and he must find us ready." there was no time to say more, for steps were ascending the stairs, and in another minute master simnel entered--the bailiff of colchester hundred, whose office it was to arrest criminals within his boundaries. he was a rough, rude sort of man, from whom women were wont to shrink. "come, mistress, turn out!" said he. "we'll find you other lodgings for a bit." "master, i will do mine utmost," said alice mount, lifting her aching head from the pillow; "but i am now ill at ease, and i pray you, give leave for my daughter to fetch me drink ere i go hence, or i fear i may scarce walk." we must remember that they had then no tea, coffee, or cocoa; and they had a funny idea that cold water was excessively unwholesome. the rich drank wine, and the poor thin, weak ale, most of which they brewed themselves from simple malt and hops--not at all like the strong, intoxicating stuff which people drink in public-houses now. mr simnel rather growlingly assented to the request. rose ran down, making her way to the dresser through the rough men of whom the kitchen was full, to get a jug and a candlestick. as she came out of the kitchen, with the jug in her right hand and the candle in her left, she met a man--i believe he called himself a gentleman--named edmund tyrrel, a relation of that tyrrel who had been one of the murderers of poor edward the fifth and his brother. rose dropped a courtesy, as she had been taught to do to her betters in social position. mr tyrrel stopped her. "look thou, maid! wilt thou advise thy father and mother to be good catholic people?" catholic means _general_; and for any one church to call itself the catholic church, is as much as to say that it is the only christian church, and that other people who do not belong to it are not christians. it is, therefore, not only untrue, but most insulting to all the christians who belong to other churches. saint paul particularly warned the church of rome not to think herself better than other churches, as you will see in the eleventh chapter of the epistle to the romans, verses to . but she took no heed, and keeps calling herself _the_ catholic church, as if nobody could be a christian who did not belong to her. no protestant church has ever committed this sin, though some few persons in several denominations may have done so. however, rose was accustomed to the word, and she knew what mr tyrrel meant. so she answered, gently-- "master, they have a better instructor than i, for the holy ghost doth teach them, i hope, which i trust shall not suffer them to err." [see note .] mr tyrrel grew very angry. he remembered that rose had been before the magistrates before on account of protestant opinions, "why art thou still in that mind, thou naughty hussy?" cried he. "marry, it is time to look upon such heretics indeed." naughty was a much stronger word then than it is now. it meant, utterly worthless and most wicked. brave rose allen! she lifted her eyes to the face of her insulter, and replied,--"sir, with that which you call heresy, do i worship my lord god, i tell you truth." "then i perceive you will burn, gossip, with the rest for company's sake," said mr tyrrel, making a horrible joke. "no, sir, not for company's sake," said rose, "but for my christ's sake, if so be i be compelled; and i hope in his mercies, if he call me to it, he will enable me to bear it." never did apostle or martyr answer better, nor bear himself more bravely, than this girl! mr tyrrel was in the habit of looking with the greatest reverence on certain other young girls, whom he called saint agnes, saint margaret, and saint katherine--girls who had made such answers to pagan persecutors, twelve hundred years or so before that time: but he could not see that the same scene was being enacted again, and that he was persecuting the lord jesus in the person of young rose allen. he took the candle from her hand, and she did not resist him. the next minute he was holding her firmly by the wrist, with her hand in the burning flame, watching her face to see what she would do. she did nothing. not a scream, not a word, not even a moan, came from the lips of rose allen. all that could be seen was that the empty jug which she held in the other hand trembled a little as she stood there. "wilt thou not cry?" sneered tyrrel as he held her,--and he called her some ugly names which i shall not write. the answer was as calm as it could be. "i have no cause, thank god," said rose tranquilly; "but rather to rejoice. you have more cause to weep than i, if you consider the matter well." when people set to work to vex you, nothing makes them more angry than to take it quietly, and show no vexation. that is, if they are people with mean minds. if there be any generosity in them, then it is the way to make them see that they are wrong. there was no generosity, nor love of justice, in edmund tyrrel. when rose allen stood so calmly before him, with her hand on fire, he was neither softened nor ashamed. he burned her till "the sinews began to crack," and then he let go her hand and pushed her roughly away, calling her all the bad names he could think of while he did so. "sir," was the meek and christlike response, "have you done what you will do?" surely few, even among martyrs, have behaved with more exquisite gentleness than this! the maiden's hand was cruelly burnt, and her tormentor was adding insult to injury by heaping false and abominable names upon her: and the worst thing she had to say to him was simply to ask whether he wished to torture her any more! "yes," sneered tyrrel. "and if thou think it not well, then mend it!" "`mend it'!" repeated rose. "nay! the lord mend you, and give you repentance, if it be his will. and now, if you think it good, begin at the feet, and burn to the head also. for he that set you a-work shall pay you your wages one day, i warrant you." and with this touch of sarcasm--only just enough to show how well she could have handled that weapon if she had chosen to fight with it--rose calmly went her way, wetted a rag, and bound up her injured hand, and then drew the ale and carried it to her mother. "how long hast thou been, child!" said her mother, who of course had no notion what had been going on downstairs. "ay, mother; i am sorry for it," was the quiet reply. "master tyrrel stayed me in talk for divers minutes." "what said he to thee?" anxiously demanded alice. "he asked me if i did mean to entreat you and my father to be good catholics; and when i denied the same, gave me some ill words." rose said nothing about the burning, and as she dexterously kept her injured hand out of her mother's sight, all that alice realised was that the girl was a trifle less quick and handy than usual. "she's a good, quick maid in the main," said she to herself: "i'll not fault her if she's upset a bit." while rose was helping her mother to dress, the bailiff was questioning her step-father whether any one else was in the house. "i'm here," said john thurston, rising from the pallet-bed where he lay in a corner of the little scullery. "you'd best take me, if you want me." "take them all!" cried tyrrel. "they be all in one tale, be sure." "were you at mass this last sunday?" said the bailiff to thurston. he was not quite so bad as tyrrel. "no, that was i not," answered thurston firmly. "wherefore?" "because i will not worship any save god almighty." "why, who else would we have you to worship?" "nay, it's not who else, it's what else. you would have me to worship stocks and stones, that cannot hear nor see; and cakes of bread that the baker made overnight in his oven. i've as big a throat as other men, yet can i not swallow so great a notion as that the baker made him that made the baker." "of a truth, thou art a naughty heretic!" said the bailiff; "and i must needs carry thee hence with the rest. but where is thy wife?" ay, where was margaret? nobody had seen her since the bailiff knocked at the door. he ordered his men to search for her; but she had hidden herself so well that some time passed before she could be found. at length, with much laughter, one of the bailiff's men dragged her out of a wall-closet, where she crouched hidden behind an old box. then the bailiff shouted for alice mount and rose to be brought down, and proceeded to tie his prisoners together, two and two,--rose contriving to slip back, so that she should be marched behind her parents. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . this part of the story is all quite true, and i am not putting into rose's lips, in her conversation with mr tyrrel, one word which she did not really utter. chapter twenty five. in colchester castle. the whole population of much bentley seemed to have turned out to witness the arrest at the blue bell. some were kindly and sympathising, some bitter and full of taunts; but the greater number were simply inquisitive, neither friendly nor hostile, but gossipping. it was now four o'clock, a time at which half the people were up in the village, and many a woman rose an hour earlier than her wont, in order to see the strange sight. there were the carpenters with baskets of tools slung over their shoulders; the gardeners with rake or hoe; the labourers with their spades; the fishermen with their nets. the colne oyster-fishery is the oldest of all known fisheries in england, and its fame had reached imperial rome itself, nearly two thousand years ago, when the emperor caligula came over to england partly for the purpose of tasting the colchester oyster. the oysters are taken in the colne and placed in pits, where they are fattened till they reach the size of a silver oyster preserved among the town treasures. in april or may, when the baby oyster first appears in the river, it looks like a drop from a tallow candle; but in twenty-four hours the shell begins to form. the value of the oyster spawn (as the baby oysters are called) in the river, is reckoned at twenty thousand pounds; and from five to ten thousand pounds' worth of oysters is sold every year. "well, master mount, how like you your new pair o' bracelets?" said one of the fishermen, as william mount was led out, and his hands tied with a rough cord. "friend, i count it honour to bear for my lord that which he first bare for me," was the meek answer. "father tye 'll never preach a better word than that," said a voice in the crowd. mr simnel looked up as if to see who spoke. "go on with thy work, old cage-maker!" cried another voice. "we'll not find thee more gaol-birds to-day than what thou hast." "you'd best hold your saucy tongues," said the nettled bailiff. "nay, be not so tetchy, master simnel!" said another. the same person never seemed to speak twice; a wise precaution, since the speaker was less likely to be arrested if he did not repeat the offence. "five slices of meat be enough for one man's supper." this allusion to the number of the prisoners, and the rapacity of the bailiff, was received with laughter by the crowd. the bailiff's temper, never of the best, was quite beyond control by this time. he relieved it by giving mount a heavy blow, as he pushed him into line after tying his wife to him. "hit him back, father mount!" cried one of the voices. william mount shook his head with a smile. "i'll hit some of you--see if i don't!" responded the incensed bailiff, who well knew his own unpopularity. "hush, fellows!" said an authoritative voice. "will ye resist the queen's servants?" john thurston and his wife were next tied together, and placed behind the mounts, the crowd remaining quiet while this was being done. then they brought rose allen, and fastened her, by a cord round her wrists, to the same rope. "eh, lord have mercy on the young maid!" said a woman's voice in a compassionate tone. "young witch, rather!" responded a man, roughly. "hold thy graceless tongue, jack milman!" replied a woman's shrill tones. "didn't rose allen make broth for thee when we were both sick, and go out of a cold winter night a-gathering herbs to ease thy pain? be shamed to thee, if thou knows what shame is, casting ill words at her in her trouble!" just as the prisoners were marched off, another voice hitherto silent seemed to come from the very midst of the crowd. it said,-- "be ye faithful unto death, and christ shall give you a crown of life." "take that man!" said the bailiff, stopping. but the man was not to be found. nobody knew--at least nobody would own--who had uttered those fearless words. so the prisoners were marched away on the road to colchester. they went in at bothal's gate, up bothal street, and past the black friars' monastery to the castle. colchester castle is one of the oldest castles in england, for it was built by king edward the elder, the son of alfred the great. it is a low square mass, with the largest norman keep, or centre tower, in the country. the walls are twelve feet thick, and the whole ground floor, and two of the four towers, are built up perfectly solid from the bottom, that it might be made as strong as possible. it was built with roman bricks, and the roman mortar still sticks to some of them. builders always know roman mortar, for it is so much harder than any mortar people know how to make now--quite as hard as stone itself. the chimneys run up through the walls. the prisoners were marched up to the great entrance gate, on the south side of the castle. the bailiff blew his horn, and the porter opened a little wicket and looked out. "give you good-morrow, master bailiff. another batch, i reckon?" "ay, another batch, belike. you'll have your dungeons full ere long." "oh, we've room enough and to spare!" said the porter with a grin. "none so many, yet. two men fetched in yestereven for breaking folks' heads in a drunken brawl; and two or three debtors; and a lad for thieving, and such; then master maynard brought an handful in this morrow--moot hall was getting too full, he said." "ay so? who brought he?" "oh, alegar o' thorpe, and them bits o' children o' his, that should be learning their hornbooks i' school sooner than be here, trow." "you'd best teach 'em, tom," suggested mr simnel with a grim smile. "now then, in with you!" and the prisoners were marched into the castle dungeon. in the corner of the dungeon sat john johnson, his bible on his knee, and beside him, snuggled close to him, cissy. little will was seated on the floor at his father's feet, playing with some bits of wood. johnson looked up as his friends entered. "why, good friends! shall i say i am glad or sorry to behold you here?" "glad," answered william mount, firmly, "if so we may glorify god." "i'm glad, i know," said cissy, jumping from the term, and giving a warm hug to rose. "i thought god would send somebody. you see, father was down a bit when we came here this morning, and left everybody behind us; but you've come now, and he'll be ever so pleased. it isn't bad, you know--not bad at all--and then there's father. but, rose, what have you done to your hand? it's tied up." "hush, dear! only hurt it a bit, cissy. don't speak of it," said rose in an undertone; "i don't want mother to see it, or she'll trouble about it, maybe. it doesn't hurt much now." cissy nodded, with a face which said that she thoroughly entered into rose's wish for silence. "eh dear, dear! that we should have lived to see this day!" cried margaret thurston, melting into tears as she sat down in the corner. "rose!" said her father suddenly, "thy left hand is bound up. hast hurt it, maid?" rose's eyes, behind her mother's back, said, "please don't ask me anything about it!" but alice turned round to look, and she had to own the truth. "why, maid! that must have been by the closet where i was hid, and i never heard thee scream," said margaret. "nay, meg, i screamed not." "lack-a-day! how could'st help the same?" "didn't it hurt sore, rose?" asked john thurston. "not nigh so much as you might think," answered rose, brightly. "at the first it caused me some grief; but truly, the more it burned the less it hurt, till at last it was scarce any hurt at all." "but thou had'st the pot in thine other hand, maid; wherefore not have hit him a good swing therewith?" "truly, meg, i thank god that he held mine hand from any such deed. `the servant of the lord must not strive.' i should thus have dishonoured my master." "marry, but that may be well enough for angels and such like. _we_ dwell in this nether world." "rose hath the right," said william mount. "we may render unto no man railing for railing. `if we suffer as christians, happy are we; for the spirit of glory and of god resteth upon us.' let us not suffer as malefactors." "you say well, neighbour," added john thurston. "we be called to the defence of god's truth, but in no wise to defend ourselves." "nay, the lord is the avenger of all that have none other," said alice. "but let me see thine hand, child, maybe i can do thee some ease." "under your good leave, mother, i would rather not unlap it," replied rose. "truly, it scarce doth me any hurt now; and i bound it well with a wet rag, that i trow it were better to let it be. it shall do well enough, i cast no doubt." she did not want her mother to see how terribly it was burned. and in her heart was a further thought which she would not put into words--if they shortly burn my whole body, what need is there to trouble about this little hurt to my hand? chapter twenty six. shutting the door. once more the days wore on, and no fresh arrests were made; but no help came to the prisoners in the castle and the moot hall, nor to elizabeth foulkes in the keeping of mr ashby. two priests had talked to elizabeth, and the authorities were beginning to change their opinion about her. they had fancied from her quiet, meek appearance, that she would be easily prevailed upon to say what they wanted. now they found that under that external softness there was a will of iron, and a power of endurance beyond anything they had imagined. the day of examination for all the prisoners--the last day, when they would be sentenced or acquitted--was appointed to be the rd of june. on the previous day the commissioners called elizabeth foulkes before them. she came, accompanied by mr ashby and her uncle; and they asked her only one question. "dost thou believe in a catholic church of christ, or no?" of course elizabeth replied "yes," for the bible has plenty to say of the church of christ, though it never identifies it with the church of rome. they asked her no more, for boswell, the scribe, interposed, and begged that she might be consigned to the keeping of her uncle. the commissioners assented, and holt took her away. it looks very much as if boswell had wanted her to escape. she was much more carelessly guarded in her uncle's house than in mr ashby's, and could have got away easily enough if she had chosen. she was more than once sent to open the front door, whence she might have slipped out after dark with almost a certainty of escape. it was quite dark when she answered the last rap. "pray you," asked an old man's voice, "is here a certain young maid, by name elizabeth foulkes?" "i am she, master. what would you with me?" "a word apart," he answered in a whisper. "be any ears about that should not be?" elizabeth glanced back into the kitchen where her aunt was sewing, and her two cousins gauffering the large ruffs which both men and women then wore. "none that can harm. say on, my master." "bessy, dost know my voice?" "i do somewhat, yet i can scarce put a name thereto." "i am walter purcas, of booking." "robin's father! ay, i know you well now, and i cry you mercy that i did no sooner." "come away with me, bessy!" he said, in a loud whisper. "i have walked all the way from booking to see if i might save thee, for robin's sake, for he loves thee as he loveth nought else save me. mistress wade shall lend me an horse, and we can be safe ere night be o'er, in the house of a good man that i know in a place unsuspect. o bessy, my dear lass, save thyself and come with me!" "save thyself!" the words had been addressed once before, fifteen hundred years back, to one who did not save himself, because he came to save the world. before the eyes of elizabeth rose two visions--one fair and sweet enough, a vision of safety and comfort, of life and happiness, which might be yet in state for her. but it was blotted out by the other--a vision of three crosses reared on a bare rock, when the one who hung in the midst could have saved himself at the cost of the glory of the father and the everlasting bliss of his church. and from that cross a voice seemed to whisper to her--"if any man serve me, let him follow me." "verily, i am loth you should have your pain for nought," said she, "but indeed i cannot come with you, though i do thank you with all my heart. i am set here in ward of mine uncle, and for me to 'scape away would cause penalty to fall on him. i cannot save myself at his cost. and should not the papists take it to mean that i had not the courage to stand to that which they demanded of me? nay, father purcas, this will i not do, for so should i lose my crown, and dim the glory of my christ." "bessy!" cried her aunt from the kitchen, "do come within and shut the door, maid! here's the wind a-blowing in till i'm nigh feared o' losing my ears, and all the lace like to go up the chimney, while thou tarriest chatting yonder. what gossip hast thou there? canst thou not bring her in?" "bessy, _come_!" whispered purcas earnestly. but elizabeth shook her head. "the lord bless you! i dare not." and she shut the door, knowing that by so doing, she virtually shut it upon life and happiness--that is, happiness in this life. elizabeth went quietly back to the kitchen, and took up an iron. she scarcely knew what she was ironing, nor how she answered her cousin dorothy's rather sarcastic observations upon the interesting conversation which she seemed to have had. a few minutes later her eldest cousin, a married woman, who lived in a neighbouring street, lifted the latch and came in. "good even, mother!" said she. "well, doll, and jenny! so thou gave in at last, bess? i'm fain for thee. it's no good fighting against a stone wall." "what dost thou mean, chrissy?" "what mean i? why, didn't thou give in? lots o' folks is saying so. set thy name, they say, to a paper that thou'd yield to the pope, and be obedient in all things. i hope it were true." "true! that i yielded to the pope, and promised to obey him!" cried elizabeth in fiery indignation. "it's not true, christian meynell! tell every soul so that asks thee! i'll die before i do it. where be the commissioners?" "thank the saints, they've done their sitting," said mrs meynell, laughing: "or i do believe this foolish maid should run right into the lion's den. mother, lock her up to-morrow, won't you, without she's summoned?" "where are they?" peremptorily demanded elizabeth. "sitting down to their supper at mistress cosin's," was the laughing answer. "don't thou spoil it by rushing in all of a--" "i shall go to them this minute," said elizabeth tying on her hood, which she had taken down from its nail. "no man nor woman shall say such words of me. good-night, aunt; i thank you for all your goodness, and may the good lord bless you and yours for ever farewell!" and amid a shower of exclamations and entreaties from her startled relatives, who never expected conduct approaching to this, elizabeth left the house. she had not far to go on that last walk in this world. the white hart, where the commissioners were staying, was full of light and animation that night when she stepped into it from the dark street, and asked leave to speak a few words to the queen's commissioners. "what would you with them?" asked a red-cheeked maid who came to her. "that shall they know speedily," was the answer. the commissioners were rather amused to be told that a girl wanted to see them: but when they heard who it was, they looked at each other with raised eyebrows, and ordered her to be called in. they had finished supper, and were sitting over their wine, as gentlemen were then wont to do rather longer than was good for them. elizabeth came forward to the table and confronted them. the commissioners themselves were two in number, sir john kingston and dr chedsey; but the scribe, sheriff, and bailiffs were also present. "worshipful sirs," she said in a clear voice, "i have been told it is reported in this town that i have made this day by you submission and obedience to the pope. and since this is not true, nor by god's grace shall never be, i call on you to do your duty, and commit me to the queen's highness' prison, that i may yet again bear my testimony for my lord christ." there was dead silence for a moment. dr chedsey looked at the girl with admiration which seemed almost reverence. sir john kingston knit his brows, and appeared inclined to examine her there and then. boswell half rose as if he would once more have pleaded with or for her. but maynard, the sheriff, whom nothing touched, and who was scarcely sober, sprang to his feet and dashed his hand upon the table, with a cry that "the jibbing jade should repent kicking over the traces this time!" he seized elizabeth, marched her to the moot hall, and thrust her into the dungeon: and with a bass clang as if it had been the very gate of doom, the great door closed behind her. chapter twenty seven. at the bar. the great hall of the moot hall in colchester was filling rapidly. every townsman, and every townswoman, wanted to hear the examination, and to know the fate of the prisoners--of whom there were so many that not many houses were left in colchester where the owners had not some family connection or friend among them. into the hall, robed in judicial ermine, filed the royal commissioners, sir john kingston, and dr chedsey, followed by boswell, the scribe, robert maynard and robert brown the sheriffs, several priests, and many magistrates and gentlemen of the surrounding country. having opened the court, they first summoned before them william bongeor, the glazier, of saint michael's parish, aged sixty, then thomas benold, the tallow-chandler, and thirdly, robert purcas. they asked purcas "what he had to say touching the sacrament." "when we receive the sacrament," he answered, "we receive bread in an holy use, that preacheth remembrance that christ died for us." the three men were condemned to death: and then agnes silverside was brought to the bar. she was some time under examination, for she answered all the questions asked her so wisely and so firmly, that the commissioners themselves were disconcerted. they took refuge, as such men usually did, in abuse, calling her ugly names, and asking "if she wished to burn her rotten old bones?" helen ewring, the miller's wife, followed: and both were condemned. then the last of the moot hall prisoners, elizabeth foulkes, was placed at the bar. "dost thou believe," inquired dr chedsey, "that in the most holy sacrament of the altar, the body and blood of christ is really and substantially present?" elizabeth's reply, in her quiet, clear voice, was audible in every part of the hall. "i believe it to be a substantial lie, and a real lie." "shame! shame!" cried one of the priests on the bench. "horrible blasphemy!" cried another. "what is it, then, that there is before consecration?" asked dr chedsey. "bread." "well said. and what is there after consecration?" "bread, still." "nothing more?" "nothing more," said elizabeth firmly. "the receiving of christ lies not in the bread, but is heavenly and spiritual only." "what say you to confession?" "i will use none, seeing no priest hath power to remit sin." "will you go to mass?" "i will not, for it is idolatry." "will you submit to the authority of the pope?" elizabeth's answer was even stronger than before. "i do utterly detest all such trumpery from the bottom of my heart!" they asked her no more. dr chedsey, for the sixth and last time, assumed the black cap, and read the sentence of death. "thou shalt be taken from here to the place whence thou earnest, and thence to the place of execution, there to be burned in the fire till thou art dead." never before had chedsey's voice been known to falter in pronouncing that sentence. he had spoken it to white-haired men, and delicate women, ay, even to little children; but this once, every spectator looked up in amazement at his tone, and saw the judge in tears. and then, turning to the prisoner, they saw her face "as it were the face of an angel." before any one could recover from the sudden hush of awe which had fallen upon the court, elizabeth foulkes knelt down, and carried her appeal from that unjust sentence to the higher bar of god almighty. "o lord our father!" she said, "i thank and praise and glorify thee that i was ever born to see this day--this most blessed and happy day, when thou hast accounted me worthy to suffer for the testimony of christ. and, lord, if it be thy will, forgive them that thus have done against me, for they know not what they do." how many of us would be likely to thank god for allowing us to be martyrs? these were true martyrs who did so, men and women so full of the holy ghost that they counted not their lives dear unto them,--so upheld by god's power that the shrinking of the flesh from that dreadful pain and horror was almost forgotten. we must always remember that it was not by their own strength, or their own goodness, but by the blood of the lamb, that christ's martyrs have triumphed over death and satan. then elizabeth rose from her knees, and turned towards the bench. like an inspired prophetess she spoke--this poor, simple, humble servant-girl of twenty years--astonishing all who heard her. "repent, all ye that sit there!" she cried earnestly, "and especially ye that brought me to this prison: above all thou, robert maynard, that art so careless of human life that thou wilt oft sit sleeping on the bench when a man is tried for his life. repent, o ye halting gospellers! and beware of blood-guiltiness, for that shall call for vengeance. yea, if ye will not herein repent your wicked doings,"--and as elizabeth spoke, she laid her hand upon the bar--"this very bar shall be witness against you in the day of judgment, that ye have this day shed innocent blood!" oh, how england needs such a prophetess now! and above all, those "halting gospellers," the men who talk sweetly about charity and toleration, and sit still, and will not come to the help of the lord against the mighty! they sorely want reminding that christ has said, "he that is not with us is against us." it is a very poor excuse to say, "oh, i am not doing any harm." are you doing any good? that is the question. if not, a wooden post is as good as you are. and are you satisfied to be no better than a wooden post? what grand opportunities there are before boys and girls on the threshold of life! what are you going to do with your life? remember, you have only one. and there are only two things you can do with it. you must give it to somebody--and it must be either god or satan. all the lives that are not given to god fall into the hands of satan. there are very few people who say to themselves deliberately, now, i will not give my life to god. they only say, oh, there's plenty of time; i won't do it just now; i want to enjoy myself. they don't know that there is no happiness on earth like that of deciding for god. and so they go on day after day, not deciding either way, but just frittering their lives away bit by bit, until the last day comes, and the last bit of life, and then it is too late to decide. would you like such a poor, mean, valueless thing as this to be the one life which is all you have? would you not rather have a bright, rich, full life, with god himself for your best friend on earth, and then a triumphal entry into the golden city, and the singer's harp, and the victor's palm, and the prince's crown, and the king's "well done, good and faithful servant?" do you say, yes. i would choose that, but i do not know how? well, then, tell the lord that. say to him, "lord, i want to be thy friend and servant, and i do not know how." keep on saying it till he shows you how. he is sure to do it, for he cares about it much more than you do. never fancy for one minute that god does not want you to go to heaven, and that it will be hard work to persuade him to let you in. he wants you to come more than you want it. he gave his own son that you might come. "greater love hath no man than this." now, will you not come to him--will you not say to him, "lord, here am i; take me"? are you going to let the lord jesus feel that all the cruel suffering which he bore for you was in vain? he is ready to save you, if you will let him; but he will not do it against your will. how shall it be? chapter twenty eight. the song of triumph. elizabeth foulkes was the last prisoner tried in the moot hall. the commissioners then adjourned to the castle. here there were six prisoners, as before. the first arraigned was william mount. he was asked, as they all were--it was the great test question for the marian martyrs--what he had to say of the sacrament of the altar, which was another name for the mass. "i say that it is an abominable idol," was his answer. "wherefore comest thou not to confession?" "sirs, i dare not take part in any popish doings, for fear of god's vengeance," said the brave old man. brave! ay, for the penalty was death. but what are they, of whom there are so many, whose actions if not words say that they dare not refuse to take part in popish doings, for fear of man's scorn and ridicule? poor, mean cowards! it was not worth while to go further. william mount was sentenced to death, and john johnson was brought to the bar. neither were they long with him, for he had nothing to say but what he had said before. he too was sentenced to die. then alice mount was brought up. she replied to their questions exactly as her husband had done. she was satisfied with his answers: they should be hers. once more the sentence was read, and she was led away. then rose allen was placed at the bar. so little had the past daunted her, that she did more than defy the commissioners: she made fun of them. standing there with her burnt hand still in its wrappings, she positively laughed satan and all his servants to scorn. they asked her what she had to say touching the mass. "i say that it stinketh in the face of god! [see note ] and i dare not have to do therewith for my life." "are you not a member of the catholic church?" "i am no member of yours, for ye be members of antichrist, and shall have the reward of antichrist." "what say you of the see of the bishop of rome?" "i am none of his. as for his see, it is for crows, kites, owls, and ravens to swim in, such as you be; for by the grace of god i will not swim in that sea while i live, neither will i have any thing to do therewith." nothing could overcome the playful wit of this indomitable girl. she punned on their words, she laughed at their threats, she held them up to ridicule. this must be ended. for the fourth time dr chedsey assumed the black cap. rose kept silence while she was condemned to death. but no sooner had his voice ceased than, to the amazement of all who heard her, she broke forth into song. it was verily: "the shout of them that triumph, the song of them that feast." she was led out of the court and down the dungeon steps, singing, till her voice filled the whole court. "yea, though i walk through death's dark vale, yet will i fear none ill; thy rod, thy staff doth comfort me, and thou art with me still." which was the happier, do you think, that night? dr chedsey, who had read the sentence of death upon ten martyrs? or young rose allen, who was to be burned to death in five weeks? when rose's triumphant voice had died away, the gaoler was hastily bidden to bring the other two prisoners. the commissioners were very much annoyed. it was a bad thing for the people who stood by, they thought, when martyrs insisted on singing in response to a sentence of execution. they wanted to make the spectators forget such scenes. "well, where be the prisoners?" said sir john kingston. "please, your worships, they be at the bar!" answered the gaolor, with a grin. "at the bar, man? but i see nought. be they dwarfs?" "something like," said the gaoler. he dragged up a form to the bar, and lifted on it, first, will johnson, and then cissy. "good lack! such babes as these!" said sir john, in great perplexity. he felt it really very provoking. here was a girl of twenty who had made fun of him in the most merciless manner, and had the audacity to sing when condemned to die, thus setting a shocking example, and awakening the sympathy of the public: and here, to make matters worse, were two little children brought up as heretics! this would never do. it was the more awkward from his point of view, that cissy was so small that he took her to be much younger than she was. "i cannot examine these babes!" said he to chedsey. dr chedsey, in answer, took the examination on himself. "how old art thou, my lad?" said he to will. will made no answer, and his sister spoke up for him. "please, sir, he's six." "and what dost thou believe?" asked the commissioner, half scornfully, half amused. "please, we believe what father told us." "who is their father?" was asked of the gaoler. "johnson, worshipful sirs: alegar, of thorpe, that you have sentenced this morrow." "gramercy!" said sir john. "take them down, wastborowe,--take them down, and carry them away. have them up another day. such babes!" cissy heard him, and felt insulted, as a young woman of her age naturally would. "please, sir, i'm not a baby! baby's a baby, but will's six, and i'm going in ten. and we are going to be as good as we can, and mind all father said to us." "take them away--take them away!" cried sir john. wastborowe lifted will down. "but please--" said cissy piteously--"isn't nothing to be done to us? mayn't we go 'long of father?" "ay, for the present," answered wastborowe, as he took a hand of each to lead them back. "but isn't father to be burned?" "come along! i can't stay," said the gaoler hastily. even his hard heart shrank from answering yes to that little pleading face. "but please, oh please, they mustn't burn father and not us! we _must_ go with father." "wastborowe!" sir john's voice called back. "take 'em down, tom," said wastborowe to his man,--not at all sorry to go away from cissy. he ran back to court. "we are of opinion, wastborowe," said dr chedsey rather pompously, "that these children are too young and ignorant to be put to the bar. we make order, therefore, that they be discharged, and set in care of some good catholic woman, if any be among their kindred; and if not, let them be committed to the care of some such not akin to them." "please, your worships, i know nought of their kindred," said the gaoler scratching his head. "jane hiltoft hath the babe at this present." "what, is there a lesser babe yet?" asked dr chedsey, laughing. "ay, there is so: a babe in arms." "worshipful sirs, might it please you to hear a poor woman?" "speak on, good wife." "sirs," said the woman who had spoken, coming forward out of the crowd, "my name is ursula felstede, and i dwell at thorpe, the next door to johnson. the babes know me, and have been in my charge aforetime. may i pray your good worships to set them in my care? i have none of mine own, and would bring them up to mine utmost as good subjects and honest folks." "ay so? and how about good catholics?" "sirs, father tye will tell you i go to mass and confession both." "so she doth," said the priest: "but i misdoubt somewhat if she be not of the `halting gospellers' whereof we heard this morrow in the moot hall." "better put them in charge of the black sisters of hedingham," suggested dr chedsey. "come you this even, good woman, to the white hart, and you shall then hear our pleasure. father tye, i pray you come with us to supper." dr chedsey had quite recovered from his emotions of the morning. "meanwhile," said sir john, rising, "let the morrow of lammas be appointed for the execution of those sentenced." [see note .] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . rose's words are given as she spoke them: but it must be remembered that they would not sound nearly so strong to those who heard them as they do to us. note . lammas is the second of august. chapter twenty nine. man proposes. mrs cosin, the landlady of the white hart, prepared a very good supper for the commissioners. these gentlemen did not fare badly. first, they had a dish of the oysters for which the town was famous, then some roast beef and a big venison pasty, then some boiled pigeons, then two or three puddings, a raspberry pie, curds and whey, cheese, with a good deal of malmsey wine and old sack, finishing up with cherries and sweet biscuits. they had reached the cherry stage before they began to talk beyond mere passing remarks. then the priest said:-- "i am somewhat feared, master commissioners, you shall reckon colchester an infected place, seeing there be here so many touched with the poison of heresy." "it all comes of self-conceit," said sir john. "nay," answered dr chedsey. "self-conceit is scarce wont to bring a man to the stake. it were more like to save him from it." "well, but why can't they let things alone?" inquired sir john, helping himself to a biscuit. "they know well enough what they shall come to if they meddle with matters of religion. why don't they leave the priest to think for them?" dr chedsey was silent: not because he did not know the answer. the time was when he, too, had been one of those now despised and condemned gospellers. in edward the sixth's day, he had preached the full, rich gospel of the grace of god: and now he was a deserter to the enemy. some of such men--perhaps most--grew very hard and stony, and seemed to take positive pleasure in persecuting those who were more faithful than themselves: but there were a few with whom the spirit of god continued to strive, who now and then remembered from whence they had fallen, and to whom that remembrance brought poignant anguish when it came upon them. dr chedsey appears to have been one of this type. let us hope that these wandering sheep came home at last in the arms of the good shepherd who sought them with such preserving tenderness. but the sad truth is that we scarcely know with certainty of one who did so. on the accession of elizabeth, when we might have expected them to come forward and declare their repentance if it were sincere, they did no such thing: they simply dropped into oblivion, and we lose them there. it is a hard and bitter thing to depart from god: how hard, and how bitter, only those know in this world who try to turn round and come back. it will be known fully in that other world whence there is no coming back. dr chedsey, then, was silent: not because he did not understand the matter, but because he knew it too well. sir john had said the protestants "knew what they would come to": that was the stake and the fire. but those who persecuted christ in the person of his elect--what were they going to come to? it was not pleasant to think about that. dr chedsey was very glad that it was just then announced that a woman begged leave to speak with their worships. "it shall be yon woman that would fain take the children, i cast no doubt," said sir john: "and we have had no talk thereupon. shall she have them or no?" "what say you, father tye?" "truly, that i have not over much trust in felstede's wife. she was wont of old time to have bible-readings and prayer-meetings at her house; and though she feigneth now to be reconciled and catholic, yet i doubt her repentance is but skin deep. the children were better a deal with the black nuns. yet--there may be some time ere we can despatch them thither, and if you thought good, felstede's wife might have them till then." "good!" said sir john. "call the woman in." ursula felstede was called in, and stood courtesying at the door. sir john put on his stern and pompous manner in speaking to her. "it seemeth best to the queen's grace's commission," said he, "that these children were sent in the keeping of the sisters of hedingham: yet as time may elapse ere the prioress cometh to town, we leave them in thy charge until she send for them. thou shalt keep them well, learn them to be good catholics, and deliver them to the black nuns when they demand it." ursula courtesied again, and "hoped she should do her duty." "so do i hope," said the priest. "but i give thee warning, ursula felstede, that thy duty hath not been over well done ere this: and 'tis high time thou shouldst amend if thou desire not to be brought to book." ursula dropped half-a-dozen courtesies in a flurried way. "please it, your reverence, i am a right true catholic, and shall learn the children so to be." "mind thou dost!" said sir john. dr chedsey meanwhile had occupied himself in writing out an order for the children to be delivered to ursula, to which he affixed the seal of the commission. armed with this paper, and having taken leave of the commissioners, with many protests that she would "do her duty," ursula made her way to the castle gate. "who walks so late?" asked the porter, looking out of his little wicket to see who it was. "good den, master style. i am james felstede's wife of thorpe, and i come with an order from their worships the commissioners to take johnson's children to me; they be to dwell in my charge till the black sisters shall send for them." "want 'em to-night?" asked the porter rather gruffly. "well, what say you?--are they abed? i'm but a poor woman, and cannot afford another walk from thorpe. i'd best take 'em with me now." "you're never going back to thorpe to-night?" "well, nay. i'm going to tarry the night at my brother's outside east gate." "bless the woman! then call for the children in the morning, and harry not honest folk out o' their lives at bed-time." and style dashed the wicket to. "now, then, kate! be those loaves ready? the rogues shall be clamouring for their suppers," cried he to his wife. katherine style, who baked the prison bread, brought out in answer a large tray, on which three loaves of bread were cut in thick slices, with a piece of cheese and a bunch of radishes laid on each. these were for the supper of the prisoners. style shouted for the gaoler, and he came up and carried the tray into the dungeon, followed by the porter, who was in rather a funny mood, and--as i am sorry to say is often the case--was not, in his fun, careful of other people's feelings. "now, johnson, hast thou done with those children?" said he. "thou'd best make thy last dying speech and confession to 'em, for they're going away to-morrow morning." johnson looked up with a grave, white face. little cissy, who was sitting by rose allen, at once ran to her father, and twined her arm in his, with an uneasy idea of being parted from him, though she did not clearly understand what was to happen. "where?" was all johnson seemed able to say. "black nuns of hedingham," said the porter. he did not say anything about the temporary sojourn with ursula felstede. johnson groaned and drew cissy closer to him. "don't be feared, father," said cissy bravely, though her lips quivered till she could hardly speak. "don't be feared: we'll never do anything you've told us not." "god bless thee, my darling, and god help thee!" said the poor father. "little cissy, he must be thy father now." and looking upwards, he said, "lord, take the charge that i give into thine hands this night! be thou the father to these fatherless little ones, and lead them forth by a smooth way or a rough, so it be the right way, whereby they shall come to thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacle. keep them as the apple of thine eye; hide them under the covert of thy wings! i am no more in the world; but these are in the world: keep them through thy name. give them back safe to my helen and to me in the land that is very far-off, whereinto there shall enter nothing that defileth. lord, i trust them to no man, but only unto thee! here me, o lord my god, for i rest on thee. let no man prevail against thee. i have no might against this company that cometh against me, neither know i what to do; but mine eyes are upon thee." chapter thirty. "they won't make me!" "what! agnes bongeor taken to the moot hall? humph! they'll be a-coming for me next. i must get on with my work. let's do as much as we can for the lord, ere we're called to suffer for him. thou tookest my message to master commissary, doll?" dorothy denny murmured something which did not reach the ear of mrs wade. "speak up, woman! i say, thou tookest my message?" "well, mistress, i thought--" "a fig for thy thought! didst give my message touching johnson's children?" "n-o, mistress, i,--" "beshrew thee for an unfaithful messenger. dost know what the wise king saith thereof? he says it is like a foot out of joint. hadst ever thy foot out o' joint? i have, and i tell thee, if thou hadst the one foot out of joint, thou wouldst not want t'other. i knew well thou wert an ass, but i did not think thee unfaithful. why didst not give my message?" there were tears in dorothy's eyes. "mistress," said she, "forgive me, but i will not help you to run into trouble, though you're sore set to do it. it shall serve no good purpose to keep your name for ever before the eyes of master commissary and his fellows. do, pray, let them forget you. you'll ne'er be safe, an' you thrust yourself forward thus." "safe! bless the woman! i leave the lord to see to my safety. i've no care but to get his work done." "well, then he's the more like to have a care of you; but, mistress, won't you let dorothy denny try to see to you a bit too?" "thou'rt a good maid, doll, though i'm a bit sharp on thee at times; and thou knows thou art mortal slow. howbeit, tell me, what is come of those children? if they be in good hands, i need not trouble." "ursula felstede has them, mistress, till the black nuns of hedingham shall fetch them away." "ursula felstede! `unstable as water.' that for ursula felstede. black nuns shall not have 'em while philippa wade's above ground. i tell thee, dorothy, wherever those little ones go, the lord's blessing 'll go with them. dost mind what david saith? `i have been young, and now am old; and yet saw i never the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging their bread.' and i want them, maid,--part because i feel for the little ones, and part because i want the blessing. why, that poor little cicely 'll be crying her bits of eyes out to part with `father.' doll, i'll go down this even, if i may find leisure, to ursula felstede, and see if i cannot win her to give me the children. i shall tell her my mind first, as like as not: and much good may it do her! but i'll have a try for 'em--i will." "folks saith, mistress, the prisoners be in as good case as may be: always reading and strengthening one another, and praising god." "i'm fain to hear it, dorothy. ah, they be not the worst off in this town. if the lord were to come to judge the earth this even, i'd a deal liefer be one of them in the moot hall than be of them that have them in charge. i marvel he comes not. if he had been a man and not god, he'd have been down many a time afore now." about six o'clock on a hot july evening, ursula felstede heard a tap at her door. "come in! o mistress wade, how do you do? will you sit? i'm sure you're very welcome," said ursula, in some confusion. "i'm not quite so sure of it, ursula felstede: but let be. you've johnson's children here, haven't you?" "ay, i have so: and i tell you that will's a handful! seems to me he's worser to rule than he used. he's getting bigger, trow." "and cicely?" "oh, she's quiet enough, only a bit obstinate. won't always do as she's told. i have to look after her sharp, or she'd be off, i do believe." "i'd like to see her, an't please you." "well, to be sure! i sent 'em out to play them a bit. i don't just know where they are." "call that looking sharp after 'em?" ursula laughed a little uneasily. "well, one can't be just a slave to a pack of children, can one? i'll look out and see if they are in sight." "thank you, i'll do that, without troubling you. now, ursula felstede, i've one thing to say to you, so i'll say it and get it over. those children of johnson's have the lord's wings over them: they'll be taken care of, be sure: but if you treat them ill, or if you meddle with what their father learned them, you'll have to reckon with him instead of the queen's commissioners. and i'd a deal sooner have the commissioners against me than have the lord. be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do but fear him which after he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell. yea, i say unto thee, fear him!" and mrs wade walked out of the door without saying another word. she was going to look for the children. the baby she had already seen asleep on ursula's bed. little will she found in the midst of a group of boys down by the brook, one of whom, a lad twice his size, was just about to fight him when mrs wade came up. "now, jack tyler, if thou dost not want to be carried to thy father by the scuff of thy neck, like a cat, and well thrashed to end with, let that lad alone.--will, where's thy sister?" little will, who looked rather sheepish, said,-- "over there." "where's _there_?" "on the stile. she's always there when we're out, except she's looking after me." "thou lackest looking after." "philip tye said he'd see to me: and then he went off with jem morris, bird-nesting." "cruel lads! well, you're a proper lot! it'd do you good, and me too, to give you a caning all round. i shall have to let be to-night, for i want to find cicely." "well, you'll see her o' top o' the stile." little will turned back to his absorbing amusement of bulrush-plaiting, and mrs wade went up to the stile which led to the way over the fields towards colchester. as she came near, sheltered by the hedge, she heard a little voice. "yea, though i walk in vale of death, yet will i fear no ill: thy rod, thy staff, doth comfort me, and thou art with me still." mrs wade crept softly along till she could see through the hedge. the stile was a stone one, with steps on each side, such as may still be seen in the north of england: and on the top step sat cissy, resting her head upon her hand, and looking earnestly in the direction of colchester. "what dost there, my dear heart?" mrs wade asked gently. "i'm looking at father," said cissy, rather languidly. she spoke as if she were not well, and could not care much about anything. "`looking at father'! what dost thou mean, my child?" "well, you see that belt of trees over yonder? when the sun shines, i can see all hallows' tower stand up against it. you can't see it to-day: it does not shine; but it's there for all that. and father's just behind in the castle: so i haven't any better way to look at him. only god looks at him, you know; they can't bar him out. so i come here, and look as far as i can, and talk to god about father. i can't see father, but he's there: and i can't see god, but he's there too: and he's got to see to father now i can't." the desolate tone of utter loneliness in the little voice touched mrs wade to the core of her great warm heart. "my poor little cicely!" she said. "doth ursula use thee well?" "yes, i suppose so," said cissy, in a quiet matter-of-fact way; "only when i won't pray to her big image, she slaps me. but she can't make me do it. father said not. it would never do for god to see us doing things father forbade us, because he's shut up and can't come to us. i'm not going to pray to that ugly thing: never! and if it was pretty, it wouldn't make any difference, when father said not." "no, dear heart, that were idolatry," said mrs wade. "yes, i know," replied cissy: "father said so. but ursula says the black sisters will make me, or they'll put me in the well. i do hope god will keep away the black sisters. i ask him every day, when i've done talking about father. i shouldn't like them to put me in the well!" and she shuddered. evidently ursula had frightened her very much with some story about this. "but god would be there, in the well, wouldn't he? they won't make me do it when father said not!" chapter thirty one. sumptuous apartments. "well, be sure! who ever saw such a lad? sent out to play at four o' the clock, and all o'er mud at five! where hast thou been, will? speak the truth, now!" "been down by the brook rush-plaiting," said little will, looking as if his mind were not quite made up whether to cry or to be sulky. "the mischievousness of lads! didn't i tell thee to mind and keep thy clothes clean?" "you're always after clothes! how could i plait rushes and keep 'em clean?" "and who told you to plait rushes, master impudence? take that." _that_ was a sound box on the ear which ursula delivered by way of illustration to her remarks. "what's become o' phil tye? i thought he was going to look after thee." "well, he did, a bit: then he and jem morris went off bird-nesting." "i'll give it him when i see him! where's cicely?" "she's somewhere," said will, looking round the cottage, as if he expected to see her in some corner. "i reckon i could have told thee so much. did mistress wade find you?" "she was down at the brook: but she went after cis." "well, thou'lt have to go to bed first thing, for them clothes must be washed." will broke into a howl. "it isn't bed-time nor it isn't washing-day!" "it's bed-time when thou'rt bidden to go. as to washing-day, it's always washing-day where thou art. never was such a boy, i do believe, for getting into the mud. thou'rt worser ten times o'er than thou wert. i do wish lads 'd stop babes till they're men, that one could tuck 'em in the cradle and leave 'em! there's never a bit of peace! i would the black ladies 'd come for you. i shall be mighty thankful when they do, be sure." "mistress wade 'll have us," suggested master william, briskly, looking up at ursula. "hold that pert tongue o' thine! mistress wade's not like to have you. you're in my care, and i've no leave to deliver you to any save the black ladies." "well! i wouldn't mind camping out a bit, if you're so set to be rid of us," said will, reflectively. "there's a blanket you've got rolled up in the loft, that 'd make a tent, and we could cut down poles, if you'll lend us an axe; and--" "you cut down poles! marry come up! you're not about to have any of my blankets, nor my axes neither." "it wouldn't be so bad," will went on, still in a meditative key, "only for dinner. i don't see where we should get that." "i see that you're off to bed this minute, and don't go maundering about tents and axes. you cut down poles! you'd cut your fingers off, more like. now then, be off to the loft! not another word! march!" just as ursula was sweeping will upstairs before her, a rap came on the door. "there! didn't i say a body never had a bit of peace?--go on, will, and get to bed; and mind thou leaves them dirty clothes on the floor by theirselves: don't go to dirt everything in the room with 'em.--walk in, mistress wade! so you found cis?" "ay, i found her," said the landlady, as she and cissy came in together. "cis, do thou go up, maid, and see to will a bit. he's come in all o'er mud and mire, and i sent him up to bed, but there's no trusting him to go. see he does, prithee, and cast his clothes into the tub yonder, there's a good maid." cissy knew very well that ursula spoke so amiably because mrs wade was there to hear her. she went up to look after her little brother, and the landlady turned to ursula. "now, ursula felstede, i want these children." "then you must ask leave from the queen's commissioners, mistress wade. eh, i couldn't give 'em up if it were ever so! i daren't, for the life o' me!" mrs wade begged, coaxed, lectured, and almost threatened her, but for once ursula was firm. she dared not give up the children, and she was quite honest in saying so. mrs wade had to go home without them. as she came up, very weary and unusually dispirited, to the archway of the king's head, she heard voices from within. "i tell you she's not!" said dorothy denny's voice in a rather frightened tone; "she went forth nigh four hours agone, and whither i know not." "that's an inquiry for me," said mrs wade to herself, as she sprang down from her old black mare, and gave her a pat before dismissing her to the care of the ostler, who ran up to take her. "good jenny! good old lass!--is there any company, giles?" she asked of the ostler. "mistress, 'tis master maynard the sheriff and he's making inquiration for you. i would you could ha' kept away a bit longer!" "dost thou so, good giles? well, i would as god would. the sheriff had best have somebody else to deal with him than doll and bab." and she went forward into the kitchen. barbara, her younger servant, who was only a girl, stood leaning against a dresser, looking very white and frightened, with the rolling-pin in her hand; she had evidently been stopped in the middle of making a pie. dorothy stood on the hearth, fronting the terrible sheriff, who was armed with a writ, and evidently did not mean to leave before he had seen the mistress. "i am here, mr maynard, if you want me," said mrs wade, quite calmly. "well said," answered the sheriff, turning to her. "i have here a writ for your arrest, my mistress, and conveyance to the bishop's court at london, there to answer for your ill deeds." "i am ready to answer for all my deeds, good and ill, to any that have a right to question me. i will go with you.--bab, go and tell giles to leave the saddle on jenny.--doll, here be my keys; take them, and do the best thou canst. i believe thee honest and well-meaning, but i'm feared the house shall ne'er keep up its credit. howbeit, that cannot be helped. do thy best, and the lord be with you! as to directions, i were best to leave none; maybe they should but hamper thee, and set thee in perplexity. keep matters clean, and pay as thou goest--thou wist where to find the till; and fear god--that's all i need say. and if it come in thy way to do a kind deed for any, and in especial those poor little children that thou wist of, do it, as i would were i here: ay, and let cissy know when all's o'er with her father. and pray for me, and i'll do as much for thee--that we may do our duty and please god, and for bodily safety let it be according to his will.--now, master maynard, i am ready." four days later, several strokes were rang on the great bell of the bishop's palace at fulham. the gaoler came to his gate when summoned by the porter. "here's a prisoner up from colchester--philippa wade, hostess of the king's head there. have you room?" "room and to spare. heresy, i reckon?" "ay, heresy,--the old tale. there must be a nest of it yonder down in essex." "there's nought else all o'er the country, methinks," said the gaoler with a laugh. "come in, mistress; i'll show you your lodging. his lordship hath an apartment in especial, furnished of polished black oak, that he keepeth for such as you. pray you follow me." mrs wade followed the jocose gaoler along a small paved passage between two walls, and through a low door, which the gaoler barred behind her, himself outside, and then opened a little wicket through which to speak. "pray you, sit down, my mistress, on whichsoever of the chairs you count desirable. the furniture is all of one sort, fair and goodly; far-fetched and dear-bought, which is good for gentlewomen, and liketh them: fast colours the broidery, i do ensure you." mrs wade looked round, so far as she could see by the little wicket, everything was black--even the floor, which was covered with black shining lumps of all shapes and sizes. she touched one of the lumps. there, could be no doubt of its nature. the "polished black oak" furniture was cobs of coal, and the sumptuous apartment wherein she was to--lodged was bishop bonner's coal-cellar. chapter thirty two. "ready! ay, ready!" it was the evening of the first of august. the prisoners in the castle, now reduced to four--the mounts, rose, and johnson--had held their bible-reading and their little evening prayer-meeting, and sat waiting for supper. john and margaret thurston, who had been with them until that day, were taken away in the morning to undergo examination, and had not returned. the prisoners had not yet heard when they were to die. they only knew that it would be soon, and might be any day. yet we are told they remained in their dungeons "with much joy and great comfort, in continual reading and invocating the name of god, ever looking and expecting the happy day of their dissolution." we should probably feel more inclined to call it a horrible day. but they called it a happy day. they expected to change their prison for a palace, and their prison bonds for golden harps, and the prison fare for the fruit or the tree of life, and the company of scoffers and tormentors for that of seraphim and cherubim, and the blessed dead: and above all, to see his face who had laid down his life for them. supper was late that evening. they could hear voices outside, with occasional exclamations of surprise, and now and then a peal of laughter. at length the door was unlocked, and the gaoler's man came in with four trenchers, piled on each other, on each of which was laid a slice of rye-bread and a piece of cheese. he served out one to each prisoner. "want your appetites sharpened?" said he with a sarcastic laugh. "because, if you do, there's news for you." "prithee let us hear it, bartle," answered mount, quietly. "well, first, writs is come down. moot hall prisoners suffer at six to-morrow, on the waste by lexden road, and you'll get your deserving i' th' afternoon, in the castle yard." "god be praised!" solemnly responded william mount, and the others added an amen. "well, you're a queer set!" said bartle, looking at them. "i shouldn't want to thank nobody for it, if so be i was going to be hanged: and that's easier of the two." "we are only going home," answered william mount. "the climb may be steep, but there is rest and ease at the end thereof." "well, you seem mighty sure on't. i know nought. priests say you'll find yourselves in a worser place nor you think." "nay! god is faithful," said johnson. "have it your own way. i wish you might, for you seem to me a deal tidier folks than most that come our way. howbeit, my news isn't all told. alegar, your brats be gone to hedingham." "god go with them!" replied johnson; but he seemed much sadder to hear this than he had done for his own doom. "and margaret thurston's recanted. she's reconciled and had to better lodging." it was evident, though to bartle's astonishment, that the prisoners considered this the worst news of all. "and john thurston?" "ah, they aren't so sure of him. they think he'll bear a faggot, but it's not certain yet." "god help and strengthen him!" "and mistress wade, of the king's head, is had up to london to the bishop." "god grant her his grace!" "i've told you all now. good-night." the greeting was returned, and bartle went out. he was commissioned to carry the writ down to the moot hall. not many minutes later, wastborowe entered the dungeon with the writ in his hand. the prisoners were conversing over their supper, but the sight of that document brought silence without any need to call for it. "hearken!" said wastborowe. "at six o'clock in the morning, on the waste piece by lexden road, shall suffer the penalty of the law these men and women underwritten:--william bongeor, thomas benold, robert _alias_ william purcas, agnes silverside _alias_ downes _alias_ smith _alias_ may, helen ewring, elizabeth foulkes, agnes bowyer." with one accord, led by mr benold, the condemned prisoners stood up and thanked god. "`agnes bowyer'," repeated wastborowe in some perplexity. "your name's not bowyer; it's bongeor." "bongeor," said its bearer. "is my name wrong set down? pray you, mr wastborowe, have it put right without delay, that i be not left out." "i should think you'd be uncommon glad if you were!" said he. "nay, but in very deed it should grieve me right sore," she replied earnestly. "let there not be no mistake, i do entreat you." "i'll see to it," said wastborowe, as he left the prison. the prisoners had few preparations to make. each had a garment ready--a long robe of white linen, falling straight from the neck to the ankles, with sleeves which buttoned at the wrist. there were many such robes made during the reign of mary--types of those fairer white robes which would be "given to every one of them," when they should have crossed the dark valley, and come out into the light of the glory of god. only agnes bongeor and helen ewring had something else to part with. with agnes in her prison was a little baby only a few weeks old, and she must bid it good-bye, and commit it to the care of some friend. helen ewring had to say farewell to her husband, who came to see her about four in the morning; and to the surprise of elizabeth foulkes, she found herself summoned also to an interview with her widowed mother and her uncle holt. "why, mother!" exclaimed elizabeth in astonishment, "i never knew you were any where nigh." "didst thou think, my lass, that aught 'd keep thy mother away from thee when she knew? i've been here these six weeks, a-waiting to hear. eh, my pretty mawther, [see note ] but to see this day! i've looked for thee to be some good man's wife, and a happy woman,--such a good maid as thou always wast!--and now! well, well! the will of the lord be done!" "a happy woman, mother!" said elizabeth with her brightest smile. "in all my life i never was so happy as this day! this is my wedding day-- nay, this is my crowning day! for ere the sun be high this day, i shall have seen the face of christ, and have been by him presented faultless before the light of the glory of god. mother, rejoice with me, and rejoice for me, for i can do nothing save rejoice. glory be to god on high, and on earth peace, good-will towards men!" there was glory to god, but little good-will towards men, when the six prisoners were marched out into high street, on their way to martyrdom. yet only one sorrowful heart was in the dungeon of the moot hall, and that was agnes bongeor's, who lamented bitterly that owing to the mis-spelling of her name in the writ, she was not allowed to make the seventh. she actually put on her robe of martyrdom, in the _hope_ that she might be reckoned among the sufferers. now, when she learned that she was not to be burned that day, her distress was poignant. "let me go with them!" she cried. "let me go and give my life for christ! alack the day! the lord counts me not worthy." the other six prisoners were led, tied together, two and two, through high street and up to the head gate. first came william bongeor and thomas benold; then mrs silverside and mrs ewring; last, robert purcas and elizabeth foulkes. they were led out of the head gate, to "a plot of ground hard by the town wall, on the outward side," beside the lexden road. there stood three great wooden stakes, with a chain affixed to each. the clock of saint mary-at-walls struck six as they reached the spot. around the stakes a multitude were gathered to see the sight. mr ewring, with set face, trying to force a smile for his wife's encouragement; mrs foulkes, gazing with clasped hands and tearful eyes on her daughter; thomas holt and all his family; mr ashby and all his; ursula felstede, looking very unhappy; dorothy denny, looking very sad; old walter purcas, leaning on his staff, from time to time shaking his white head as if in bitter lamentation; a little behind the others, mrs clere and amy; and in front, busiest of the busy, sir thomas tye and nicholas clere. there they all were, ready and waiting, to see the moot hall prisoners die. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . girl. this is a suffolk provincialism. chapter thirty three. how they went home. arrived at the spot where they were to suffer, the prisoners knelt down to pray: "but not in such sort as they would, for the cruel tyrants would not suffer them." foremost of their tormentors at this last moment was nicholas clere, who showed an especial spite towards elizabeth foulkes, and interrupted her dying prayers to the utmost of his power. when elizabeth rose from her knees and took off her outer garments--underneath which she wore the prepared robe--she asked the bailiff's leave to give her petticoat to her mother; it was all the legacy in her power to leave. even this poor little comfort was denied her. the clothes of the sufferers were the perquisite of the sheriffs' men, and they would not give them up. elizabeth smiled--she did nothing but smile that morning--and cast the petticoat on the ground. "farewell, all the world!" she said. "farewell, faith! farewell, hope!" then she took the stake in her arms and kissed it. "welcome, love!" ay, faith and hope were done with now. a few moments, and faith would be lost in sight; hope would be lost in joy; but love would abide for ever and ever. her mother came up and kissed her. "my blessed dear," she said, "be strong in the lord!" they chained the two elder men at one stake; the two women at another: elizabeth and robert together at the last. the sheriff's men put the chain round them both, and hammered the other end fast, so that they should not attempt to escape. escape! none of them dreamed of such a thing. they cared neither for pain nor shame. to their eyes heaven itself was open, and the lord christ, on the right hand of the father, would rise to receive his servants. nor did they say much to each other. there would be time for that when all was over! were they not going the journey together? would they not dwell in happy company, through the long years of eternity? the man who was nailing the chain close to where elizabeth stood accidentally let his hammer slip. he had not intended to hurt her; but the hammer came down heavily upon her shoulder and made a severe wound. she turned her head to him and smiled on him. then she lifted up her eyes to heaven and prayed. her last few moments were spent in alternate prayer and exhortation of the crowd. the torch was applied to the firewood and tar-barrels heaped around them. as the flame sprang up, the six martyrs clapped their hands: and from the bystanders a great cry rose to heaven,-- "the lord strengthen them! the lord comfort them! the lord pour his mercies upon them!" ah, it was not england, but rome, who burned those marian martyrs! the heart of england was sound and true; she was a victim, not a persecutor. just as the flame reached its fiercest heat, there was a slight cry in the crowd, which parted hither and thither as a girl was borne out of it insensible. she had fainted after uttering that cry. it was no wonder, said those who stood near: the combined heat of the august sun and the fire was scarcely bearable. she would come round shortly if she were taken into the shade to recover. half-an-hour afterwards nothing could be seen beside the lexden road but the heated and twisted chains, with fragments of charred wood and of grey ashes. the crowd had gone home. and the martyrs had gone home too. no more should the sun light upon them, nor any heat. the lamb in the midst of the throne had led them to living fountains of water, and they were comforted for evermore. "who was that young woman that swooned and had to be borne away?" asked a woman in the crowd of another, as they made their way back into the town. the woman appealed to was audrey wastborowe. "oh, it was amy clere of the magpie," said she. "the heat was too much for her, i reckon." "ay, it was downright hot," said the neighbour. something beside the heat had been too much for amy clere. the familiar face of elizabeth foulkes, with that unearthly smile upon it, had gone right to the girl's heart. for amy had a heart, though it had been overlaid by a good deal of rubbish. the crowd did not disperse far. they were gathered again in the afternoon in the castle yard, when the mounts and johnson and rose allen were brought out to die. they came as joyfully as their friends had done, "calling upon the name of god, and exhorting the people earnestly to flee from idolatry." once more the cry rose up from the whole crowd,-- "lord, strengthen them, and comfort them, and pour thy mercy upon them!" and the lord heard and answered. joyfully, joyfully they went home and the happy company who had stood true, and had been faithful unto death, were all gathered together for ever in the starry halls above. to two other places the cry penetrated: to agnes bongeor weeping in the moot hall because she was shut out from that blessed company; and to margaret thurston in her "better lodging" in the castle, who had shut herself out, and had bought life by the denial of her lord. the time is not far-off when we too shall be asked to choose between these two alternatives. not, perhaps, between earthly life and death (though it may come to that): but between faith and unfaithfulness, between christ and idols, between the love that will give up all and the self-love that will endure nothing. which shall it be with you? will you add your voice to the side which tamely yields the priceless treasures purchased for us by these noble men and women at this awful cost? or will you meet the romanising enemy with a firm front, and a shout of "no fellowship with idols!--no surrender of the liberty which our fathers bought with their heart's blood!" god grant you grace to choose the last! when mrs clere reached the magpie, she went up to amy's room, and found her lying on the bed with her face turned to the wall. "amy! what ailed thee, my maid?--art better now?" "mother, we're all wrong!" "dear heart, what does the child mean?" inquired the puzzled mother. "has the sun turned thy wits out o' door?" "the sun did nought to me, mother. it was bessie's face that i could not bear. bessie's face, that i knew so well--the face that had lain beside me on this pillow over and over again--and that smile upon her lips, as if she were half in heaven already--mother it was dreadful! i felt as if the last day were come, and the angels were shutting me out." "hush thee, child, hush thee! 'tis not safe to speak such things. heretics go to the ill place, as thou very well wist." "names don't matter, do they, mother? it is truth that signifies. whatever names they please to call bessie foulkes, she had heaven and not hell in her face. that smile of hers never came from satan. i know what his smiles are like: i've seen them on other faces afore now. he never had nought to do with her." "amy, if thy father hears thee say such words as those, he'll be proper angry, be sure!" amy sat up on the bed. "mother, you know that bessie foulkes loved god, and feared him, and cared to please him, as you and i never did in all our lives. do folks that love god go to satan? does he punish people because they want to please him? i know little enough about it, alack-the-day! but if an angel came from heaven to tell me bessie wasn't there this minute, i could not believe him." "well, well! think what you will, child, only don't say it! i've nothing against bess being in heaven, not i! i hope she may be, poor lass. but thou knowest thy father's right set against it all, and the priests too; and, amy, i don't want to see _thee_ on the waste by lexden road. just hold thy tongue, wilt thou? or thou'lt find thyself in the wrong box afore long." "mother, i don't think bessie foulkes is sorry for what happened this morning." "maybe not, but do hold thy peace!" "i can hold my peace if you bid me, mother. i've not been a good girl, but i mean to try and be better. i don't feel as if i should ever care again for the gewgaws and the merrymakings that i used to think all the world of. it's like as if i'd had a glimpse into heaven as she went in, and the world had lost its savour. but don't be feared, mother; i'll not vex you, nor father neither, if you don't wish me to talk. only-- nobody 'll keep me from trying to go after bessie!" chapter thirty four. dorothy takes a message. "now then, attend, can't you? how much sugar?" "please, sister mary, my head does ache so!" "no excuses, cicely! answer at once." a long sobbing sigh preceded the words--"half a pound." "now get to your sewing. cicely, i must be obeyed; and you are a right perverse child as one might look for with the training you have had. let me hear no more about headache: it's nothing but nonsense." "but my head does ache dreadfully, sister." "well, it is your own fault, if it do. two mortal hours were you crying last night,--the stars know what for!" "it was because i didn't hear nothing about father," said poor cissy sorrowfully. "mistress wade promised she--" "mistress wade--who is that?" "please, she's the hostess of the king's head: and she said she would let me know when--" "when what?" "when father couldn't have any pain ever any more." "do you mean that you wish to hear your father is dead, you wicked child?" cissy looked up wearily into the nun's face. "he's in pain now," she said; "for he is waiting, and knows he will have more. but when it has come, he will have no more, never, but will live with god and be happy for ever and ever. i want to know that father's happy." "how can these wicked heretics fall into such delusions?" said sister mary, looking across the room at sister joan, who shook her head in a way which seemed to say that there was no setting any bounds to the delusions of heretics. "foolish child, thy father is a bad man, and bad men do not go to heaven." "father's not a bad man," said cissy, not angrily, but in a tone of calm persuasion that nothing would shake. "i cry you mercy, sister mary, but you don't know him, and somebody has told you wrong. father's good, and loves god; and people are not bad when they love god and do what he says to them. you're mistaken, please, sister." "but thy father does not obey god, child, because he does not obey the church." "please, i don't know anything about the church. father obeys the bible, and that is god's own word which he spoke himself. the church can't be any better than that." "the church, for thee, is the priest, who will tell thee how to please god and the holy mother, if thou wilt hearken." "but the priest's a man, sister: and god's book is a great deal better than that." "the priest is in god's stead, and conveys his commands." "but i've got the commands, sister mary, in the book; and god hasn't written a new one, has he?" "silly child! the church is above any book." "oh no, it can't be, sister, please. what father bade me do his own self must be better than what other people bid me; and so what god says in his own book must be better than what other people say, and the church is only people." "cicely, be silent! thou art a very silly, perverse child." "i dare say i am, sister, but i am sure that's true." sister joan was on the point of bidding cissy hold her tongue in a still more authoritative manner, when one of the lay sisters entered the room, to say that a woman asked permission to speak with one of the teaching sisters. "what is her name?" "she says her name is denny." "denny! i know nobody of that name." "oh, please, is her name dorothy?" asked cissy, eagerly. "if it's dorothy denny, mrs wade has sent her--she's mrs wade's servant. oh, do let me--" "silence!" said sister mary. "i will go and speak with the woman." she found in the guest-chamber a woman of about thirty, who stood dropping courtesies as if she were very uncomfortable. very uncomfortable dorothy denny was. she did not know what "nervous" meant, but she was exceedingly nervous for all that. in the first place, she felt extremely doubtful whether if she trusted herself inside a convent, she would ever have a chance of getting out again; and in the second she was deeply concerned about several things, of which one was cissy. "what do you want, good woman?" "please you, madam, i cry you mercy for troubling of you, but if i might speak a word with the dear child--" "what dear child?" asked the nun placidly. dorothy's fright grew. were they going to deny cissy to her, or even to say that she was not there? "please you, good sister, i mean little cis--cicely johnson, an' it like you, that i was sent to with a message from my mistress, the hostess of the king's head in colchester." "cicely johnson is not now at liberty. you can give the message to me." "may i wait till i can see her?" plainly, dorothy was no unfaithful messenger when her own comfort only was to be sacrificed. sister mary considered a moment; and then said she would see if cicely could be allowed to have an interview with her visitor. bidding dorothy sit down, she left the room. for quite an hour dorothy sat waiting, until she began to think the nuns must have forgotten her existence, and to look about for some means of reminding them of it. there were no bells in sitting-rooms at that time, except in the form of a little hand-bell on a table, and for this last dorothy searched in vain. then she tried to go out into the passage, in the hope of seeing somebody; but she was terrified to find herself locked in. she did not know what to do. the window was barred with an iron grating; there was no escape that way. poor dorothy began to wonder whether, if she found herself a prisoner, she could contrive to climb the chimney, and what would become of her after doing so, when she heard at last the welcome sound of approaching steps, and the key was turned in the lock. the next minute cissy was in dorothy's arms. "o dorothy! dear dorothy! tell me quick--father--" cissy could get no further. "he is at rest, my dear heart, and shall die no more." cissy was not able to answer for the sobs that choked her voice, and dorothy smoothed her hair and petted her. "nay, grieve not thus, sweet heart," she said. "oh no, it is so wicked of me!" sobbed poor cissy. "i thought i should have been so glad for father: and i can only think of me and the children. we've got no father now!" "nay, my dear heart, thou hast as much as ever thou hadst. he is only gone upstairs and left you down. he isn't dead, little cissy: he's alive in a way he never was before, and he shall live for ever and ever." neither dorothy nor cissy had noticed that a nun had entered with her, and they were rather startled to hear a voice out of the dark corner by the door. "take heed, good woman, how thou learn the child such errors. that is only true of great saints; and the man of whom you speak was a wicked heretic." "i know not what sort of folks your saints are," said dorothy bravely: "but my saints are folks that love god and desire to please him, and that john johnson was, if ever a man were in this evil world. an _evil_ tree cannot bring forth good fruit." the nun crossed herself, but she did not answer. "it would be as well if folks would be content to set the bad folks in prison, and let the good ones be," said dorothy. "cissy, our mistress is up to london to the bishop." "will they do somewhat to her?" "god knoweth!" said dorothy, shaking her head sorrowfully. "i shall be fain if i may see her back; oh, i shall!" "oh, i hope they won't!" said cissy, her eyes filling again with tears. "i love mistress wade." chapter thirty five. nobody left for cissy. "please, dorothy, what's become of rose allen? and bessy foulkes? and mistress mount, and all of them?" "all gone, my dear heart--all with thy father." "are they all gone?" said cissy with another sob, "isn't there one left?" "not one of them." "then if we came out, we shouldn't find nobody?" "prithee reckon not, cicely," said the nun, "that thou art likely to come out. there is no such likelihood at all whilst our good queen reigneth; and if it please god, she shall have a son after her that shall be true to the catholic faith, as she is, and not suffer evil courses and naughty heretics to be any more in the realm. ye will abide here till it be plainly seen whether god shall grant to thee and thy sister the grace of a vocation; and if not, it shall be well seen to that ye be in care of good catholic folk, that shall look to it ye go in the right way. so prithee, suffer not thy fancy to deceive thee with any thought of going forth of this house of religion. when matters be somewhat better established, and the lands whereof the church hath been robbed are given back to her, and all the religious put back in their houses, or new ones built, then will england be an isle of saints as in olden time, and men may rejoice thereat." cissy listened to this long speech, which she only understood in part, but she gathered that the nuns meant to keep her a prisoner as long as they could. "but sister joan," said she, "you don't know, do you, what god is going to do? perhaps he will give us another good king or queen, like king edward. i ask him to do, every day. but, please, what is a vocation?" "thou dost, thou wicked maid? i never heard thee." "but i don't ask you, sister joan. i ask god. and i think he'll do it, too. what is a vocation, please?" "what i'm afeared thou wilt never have, thou sinful heretic child--the call to become a holy sister." "who is to call me? i am a sister now; i'm will's and baby's sister. nobody can't call me to be a sister to nobody else," said cissy, getting very negative in her earnestness. sister joan rose from her seat. "the time is up," said she. "say farewell to thy friend." "farewell, dorothy dear," said cissy, clinging to the one person she knew, who seemed to belong to her past, as she never would have thought of doing to dorothy denny in bygone days. "please give mistress wade my duty, when she comes home, and say i'm trying to do as father bade me, and i'll never, never believe nothing he told me not. you see they couldn't do nothing to me save burn me, as they did father, and then i should go to father, and all would be right directly. it's much better for them all that they are safe there, and i'll try to be glad--thought here's nobody left for me. father'll have company: i must try and think of that. i thought he'd find nobody he knew but mother, but if they've all gone too, there'll be plenty. and i suppose there'll be some holy angels to look after us, because god isn't gone away, you see: he's there and here too. he'll help me still to look after will and baby, now i haven't"--a sob interrupted the words--"haven't got father. good-bye, dolly! kiss me, please. nobody never kisses me now." "thou poor little dear!" cried dorothy, fairly melted, and sobbing over cissy as she gave her half-a-dozen kisses at least. "the lord bless thee, and be good to thee! i'm sure he'll take proper vengeance on every body as isn't. i wouldn't like to be them as ill-used thee. they'll have a proper bill to pay in the next world, if they don't get it in this. poor little pretty dear!" "you will drink a cup of ale and eat a manchet?" asked sister joan of dorothy. a manchet was a cake of the best bread. "no, i thank you, sister, i am not a-hungered," was the answer. "but, dolly, you did not come all the way from colchester?" said cissy. "ay, i did so, my dear, in the miller's cart, and i'm journeying back in the same. i covenanted to meet him down at the end of yonder lane at three o'clock, and methinks i had best be on my way." "ay, you have no time to lose," responded sister joan. dorothy found mr ewring waiting for her at the end of the lane. "have you had to eat, dorothy?" was his first question when she had climbed up beside him. "never a bite or sup in _that_ house, master, i thank you," was dorothy's rejoinder. "if i'd been starving o' hunger, i wouldn't have touched a thing." "have you seen the children?" "i've seen cissy. that was enough and to spare." "what do they with her?" "they are working hard with both hands to make an angel of her at the soonest--that's what they are doing. it's not what they mean to do. they want to make her a devil, or one of the devil's children, which comes to the same thing: but the lord 'll not suffer that, or i'm a mistaken woman. they are trying to bend her, and they never will. she'll break first. so they'll break her, and then there'll be no more they can do. that's about where it is, master ewring." "why, dorothy, i never saw you thus stirred aforetime." "maybe not. it takes a bit to stir me, but i've got it this even, i can tell you." "i could well-nigh mistake you for mistress wade," said mr ewring with a smile. "eh, poor mistress! but if she could see that poor little dear, it would grieve her to her heart. master ewring, how long will the lord bear with these sons of satan!" "ah, dorothy, that's more than you or i can tell. `many shall be purified, and made white, and tried': that is all we know." "how much is many?" asked dorothy almost bitterly. "not one too many," said the miller gravely: "and not one too few. we are called to wait until our brethren be accomplished that shall suffer. it may be shorter than we think. but, dorothy, who set you among the prophets? i rather thought you had not over much care for such things." "master ewring, i've heard say that when a soldier's killed in battle, another steppeth up behind without delay to fill his place. there's some places wants filling at colchester, where the firing's been fierce of late: and when most of the old warriors be killed, they'll be like to fill the ranks up with new recruits. and if they be a bit awkward, and don't step just up to pace, maybe they'll learn by and by, and meantime the others must have patience." "the lord perfect that which concerneth thee!" said the miller, with much feeling. "dorothy, was your mistress not desirous to have brought up these little ones herself?" "she was so, master ewring, and i would with all my heart she could. poor little dears!" "i would have taken the lad, if it might have been compassed, when he was a bit older, and have bred him up to my own trade. the maids should have done better with good mistress wade." "eh, master, little cicely's like to dwell in other keeping than either, and that's with her good father and mother above." "the lord's will be done!" responded mr ewring. "if so be, she at least will have little sorrow." chapter thirty six. into the lion's mouth. "give you good den, master hiltoft! may a man have speech of your prisoner, mistress bongeor?" "you're a bold man, master ewring." "wherefore?" "wherefore! sotting your head in the lion's mouth! i should have thought you'd keep as far from moot hall as you could compass. yourself not unsuspected, and had one burned already from your house--i marvel at you that you hide not yourself behind your corn-measures and flour-sacks, and have a care not to show your face in the street. and here up you march as bold as hector, and desire to have speech of a prisoner! well--it's your business, not mine." "friend, mine hearth is desolate, and i have only god to my friend. do you marvel that i haste to do his work whilst it is day, or that i desire to be approved of him?" "you go a queer way about it. i reckon you think with the old saw, [proverb.] `the nearer the church the further from heaven'!" "that is true but in some sense. verily, the nearer some churches, and some priests, so it is. may i see mistress bongeor?" "ay, you would fain not commit yourself, i see, more than may be. come, you have a bit of prudence left. so much the better for you. come in, and i'll see if wastborowe's in a reasonable temper, and that hangs somewhat on the one that audrey's in." the porter shut the gate behind mr ewring, and went to seek wastborowe. just then jane hiltoft, coming to her door, saw him waiting, and invited him to take a seat. "fine morning, master." "ay, it is, jane. have you yet here poor johnson's little maid?" "i haven't, master, and i feel fair lost without the dear babe. a rare good child she was--never see a better. the black ladies of hedingham has got her, and i'm all to pieces afeard they'll not tend her right way. how should nuns (saving their holy presences) know aught about babes and such like? eh dear! they'd better have left her with me. i'd have taken to her altogether, if simon'd have let me--and i think he would after a bit. and she'd have done well with me, too." "ay, jane, you'd have cared her well for the body, i cast no doubt." "dear heart, but it's sore pity, master ewring, such a good man as you cannot be a good catholic like every body else! you'd save yourself ever so much trouble and sorrow. i cannot think why you don't." "we should save ourselves a little sorrow, jane; but we should have a deal more than we lost." "but how so, master? it's only giving up an opinion." "maybe so, with some: but not with us. they that have been taught this way by others, and never knew christ for themselves--with them, as you say, it were but the yielding of opinion: but to us that know him, and have heard his voice, it would be the betraying of the best friend in earth or heaven. and we cannot do that, jane hiltoft--not even for life." "nay, that stands to reason if it were so, master ewring; but, trust me, i know not what you mean, no more than if you spake latin." "read god's book, and pray for his spirit, and you shall find out, jane.--well, hiltoft?" "wastborowe says you may see mistress bongeor if you'll give him a royal farthing, but he won't let you for a penny less. he's had words with their audrey, and he's as savage as denis of siccarus." "who was he, hiltoft?" answered mr ewring with a smile, as he felt in his purse for the half-crown which was to be the price of his visit to agnes bongeor. "eh, i don't know: i heard master doctor say the other day that his dog was as fierce as him." "art sure he said not `syracuse'?" "dare say he might. syracuse or siccarus, all's one to me." at the door of the dungeon stood the redoubtable wastborowe, his keys hanging from his girdle, and looking, to put it mildly, not particularly amiable. "want letting out again by and by?" he inquired with grim satire, as mr ewring put the coin in his hand. "if you please, wastborowe. you've no writ to keep me, have you?" "haven't--worse luck! only wish i had. i'll set a match to the lot of you with as much pleasure as i'd drink a pot of ale. it'll never be good world till we're rid of heretics!" "there'll be satan left then, methinks, and maybe a few rogues and murderers to boot." "never a one as bad as you lutherans and gospellers! get you in. you'll have to wait my time to come out." "very well," said mr ewring quietly, and went in. he found agnes bongeor seated in a corner of the window recess, with her bible on her knee; but it was closed, and she looked very miserable. "well, my sister, and how is it with you?" "as 'tis like to be, master ewring, with her whom the lord hath cast forth, and reckons unworthy to do him a service." "did he so reckon abraham, then, at the time of the offering up of isaac? isaac was not sacrificed: he was turned back from the same. yet what saith the lord unto him? `because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thou shalt be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice.' see you, his good will thereto is reckoned as though he had done the thing. `the lord looketh on the heart.' doubt thou not, my good sister, but firmly believe, that to thee also faith is counted for righteousness, and the will passeth for the deed, with him who saith that `if thou be christ's then art thou abraham's seed.'" "that's comforting, in truth," said poor agnes. "but, master ewring, think you there is any hope that i may yet be allowed to witness for my lord before men in very deed? to have come so near, and be thrust back! is there no hope?" agnes bongeor was not the only one of the sufferers in this persecution who actually coveted and longed for martyrdom. if the imperial crown of all the world had been laid at their feet, they would have reckoned it beneath contempt in comparison with that crown of life promised to such as are faithful unto death. not faithful _till_ death, but _unto_ it. "i know not what the lord holds in reserve for thee, my sister. i only know that whatsoever it be, it is that whereby thou mayest best glorify him. is that not enough? if more glory should come to him by thy dying in this dungeon after fifty years' imprisonment, than by thy burning, which wouldst thou choose? speak truly." agnes dropped her face upon her hands for a moment. "you have the right, master ewring," said she, when she looked up again. "i fear i was over full of myself. let the lord's will be done, and his glory ensured, by his doing with me whatsoever he will. i will strive to be patient, and not grieve more than i should." "therein wilt thou do well, my sister. and now i go--when as it shall please wastborowe," added mr ewring with a slight smile of amusement, and then growing grave,--"to visit one in far sorer trouble than thyself." "eh, master, who is that?" "it is margaret thurston, who hath not been, nor counted herself, rejected of the lord, but hath of her own will rejected him. she bought life by recanting." "eh, poor soul, how miserable must she be! tell her, if it like you, that i will pray for her. maybe the lord will grant to both of us the grace yet to be his witnesses." mr ewring had to pass four weary hours in the dungeon before it pleased wastborowe to let him out. he spent it in conversing with the other prisoners,--all of whom, save agnes bongeor, were arrested for some crime,--and trying to do them good. at last the heavy door rolled back, and wastborowe's voice was heard inquiring, in accents which did not sound particularly sober,-- "where's yon companion that wants baking by lexden road?" "i am here, wastborowe," said mr ewring, rising. "good den, friends. the lord bless and comfort thee, my sister!" and out he went into the summer evening air, to meet the half-tipsy gaoler's farewell of,-- "there! take to thy heels, old shortbread, afore thou'rt done a bit too brown. thou'lt get it some of these days!" chapter thirty seven. "remember!" mr ewring only returned wastborowe's uncivil farewell by a nod, as he walked up high street towards east gate. at the corner of tenant's lane he turned to the left, and went up to the castle. a request to see the prisoner there brought about a little discussion between the porter and the gaoler, and an appeal was apparently made to some higher authority. at length the visitor was informed that permission was granted, on condition that he would not mention the subject of religion. the condition was rejected at once. mr ewring had come to talk about that and nothing else. "then you'd best go home," said bartle. "can't do to have matters set a-crooked again when they are but now coming straight. margaret thurston's reconciled, and we've hopes for john, though he's been harder of the two to bring round. never do to have folks coming and setting 'em all wrong side up. do you want to see 'em burned, my master?" "i want to see them true," was mr ewring's answer, "the burning doesn't much matter." "oh, doesn't it?" sneered bartle. "you'll sing another tune, master ewring, the day you're set alight." "methinks, friend, those you have burned sang none other. but how about a thousand years hence? bartholomew crane, what manner of tune wilt thou be singing then?" "time enough to say when i've got it pricked, master," said bartle: but mr ewring saw from his uneasiness that the shot had told. people were much more musical in england three hundred years ago than now. nearly everybody could sing, or read music at sight: and a lady was thought very poorly educated if she could not "set"--that is, write down a tune properly on hearing it played. writing music they called "pricking" it. mr ewring did not stay to talk with bartle; he bade him good-bye, and walked up tenant's lane on his way home. but before he had gone many yards, an idea struck him, and he turned round and went back to the castle. bartle was still in the court, and he peeped through the wicket to see who was there. "good lack! you're come again!" "i'm come again," said mr ewring, smiling. "bartle, wilt take a message to the thurstons for me?" "depends," said bartle with a knowing nod. "what's it about? if you want to tell 'em price of flour, i don't mind." "i only want you to say one word to either of them." "come, that's jolly! what's the word?" "remember!" bartle scratched his head. "remember what? there's the rub!" "leave that to them," said mr ewring. "well,--i--don't--know," said bartle very slowly. "mayhap _i_ sha'n't remember." "mayhap that shall help you," replied the miller, holding up an angelet, namely, a gold coin, value shillings pence--the smallest gold coin then made. "shouldn't wonder if that strengthened my wits," said bartle with a grin, as the little piece of gold was slipped through the wicket. "that's over a penny a letter, bain't it?" "fivepence. it's good pay." "it's none so bad. i'm in hopes you'll have a few more messages, master ewring. they're easy to carry when they come in a basket o' that metal." "ah, bartle! wilt thou do that for a gold angelet which thou wouldst not for the love of god or thy neighbour? beware that all thy good things come not to thee in this life--which can only be if they be things that pertain to this life alone." "this life's enough for me, master: it's all i've got." "truth, friend. therefore cast it not away in folly." "in a good sooth, master ewring, i love your angelets better than your preachment, and you paid me not to listen to a sermon, but to carry a message. good den!" "good den, bartle. may the lord give thee good ending!" bartle stood looking from the wicket until the miller had turned the corner. "yon's a good man, i do believe," said he to himself. "i marvel what they burn such men for! they're never found lying or cheating or murdering. why couldn't folks let 'em alone? we shouldn't want to hurt 'em, if the priests would let us alone. marry, this would be a good land if there were no priests!" bartle shut the wicket, and prepared to carry in supper to his prisoners. john and margaret thurston were not together. the priests were afraid to let them be so, lest john, who stood more firmly of the two, should talk over margaret. they occupied adjoining cells. bartle opened a little wicket in the first, and called john to receive his rations of brown bread, onions, and weak ale. "i promised to give you a message," said he, "but i don't know as it's like to do you much good. it's only one word." "should be a weighty one," said john. "what is it?" "`remember!'" "ah!" john thurston's long-drawn exclamation, which ended with a heavy sigh, astonished bartle. "there's more in it than i reckoned, seemingly," said he as he turned to margaret's cell, and opened her wicket to pass in the supper. "here's a message for you, meg, from master ewring the miller. let's see what _you'll_ say to it--`remember!'" "`remember!'" cried margaret in a pained tone. "don't i always remember? isn't it misery to me to remember? and can't i guess what he means--`remember from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works'? eh, then there's repentance yet for them that have fallen! `i will fight against thee, _except_ thou repent.' god bless you, bartle: you've given me a buffet and yet a hope." "that's a proper powerful word, is that!" said bartle. "never knew one word do so much afore." there was more power in that one word from holy writ than bartle guessed. the single word, sent home to their consciences by the holy ghost, brought quit different messages to the two to whom it was sent. to john thurston it did not say, "remember from whence thou hast fallen." that was the message with which it was charged for margaret. but to john it said, "call to remembrance the former days, in which, after that ye were illuminated, ye endured a great flight of afflictions ... knowing in yourselves that ye have in heaven a better and an enduring substance. cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward." that was john's message, and it found him just on the brink of casting his confidence away, and stopped him. mr ewring had never spent an angelet better than in securing the transmission of that one word, which was the instrument in god's hand to save two immortal souls. as he reached the top of tenant's lane, he met ursula felstede, carrying a large bundle, with which she tried to hide her face, and to slink past. the miller stopped. "good den, ursula. wither away?" "truly, master, to the whitster's with this bundle." the whitster meant what we should now call a dyer and cleaner. "do you mind, ursula, what the prophet daniel saith, that `many shall be purified and made white'? methinks it is going on now. white, as no fuller on earth can white them! may you and i be so cleansed, friend! good den." ursula courtesied and escaped, and mr ewring passed through the gate, and went up to his desolated home. he stood a moment in the mill-door, looking back over the town which he had just left. "`the night cometh, when no man can work,'" he said to himself. "grant me, lord, to be about thy business until the master cometh!" and he knew, while he said it, that in all likelihood to him that coming would be in a chariot of fire, and that to be busied with that work would bring it nearer and sooner. chapter thirty eight. filling the ranks. as mr ewring stood looking out, he saw somebody coming up from the gate towards the mill--a girl, who walked slowly, as if she felt very hot or very tired. the day was warm, but not oppressively so; and he watched her coming languidly up the road, till he saw that it was amy clere. what could she want at the mill? mr ewring waited to see. "good den, mistress amy," said he, as she came nearer. amy looked up as if it startled her to be addressed. "good den, master ewring. father's sending some corn to be ground, and he desired you to know the last was ground a bit too fine for his liking: would you take the pains to have it coarser ground, an' it please you?" "i will see to it, mistress amy. a fine even, methinks?" "ay, right fair," replied amy in that manner which shows that the speaker's thoughts are away elsewhere. but she did not offer to go; she lingered about the mill-door, in the style of one who has something to say which she is puzzled or unwilling to bring out. "you seem weary," said mr ewring, kindly; "pray you, sit and rest you a space in the porch." amy took the seat suggested at once. "master clere is well, i trust?--and mistress clere likewise?" "they are well, i thank you." mr ewring noticed suddenly that amy's eyes were full of tears. "mistress amy," said he, "i would not by my good-will be meddlesome in matters that concern me not, but it seemeth me all is scarce well with you. if so be that i can serve you any way, i trust you will say so much." "master ewring, i am the unhappiest maid in all colchester." "truly, i am right sorry to hear it." "i lack one to help me, and i know not to whom to turn. you could, if--" "then in very deed i will. pray give me to wit how?" amy looked up at him. "master ewring, i set out for heaven, and i have lost the way." "why, mistress amy! surely you know well enough--" "no, i don't," she said, cutting him short. "lack-a-day! i never took no heed when i might have learned it: and now have i no chance to learn, and everything to hinder. i don't know a soul i could ask about it." "the priest," suggested mr ewring a little constrainedly. this language astonished him from nicholas clere's daughter. "i don't want the priest's way. he isn't going himself; or if he is, it's back foremost. master ewring, help me! i mean it. i never wist a soul going that way save bessy foulkes: and she's got there, and i want to go _her_ way. what am i to do?" mr ewring did not speak for a moment. he was thinking, in the first place, how true it was that "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church"; and in the second, what very unlikely subjects god sometimes chooses as the recipients of his grace. one of the last people in colchester whom he would have expected to fill elizabeth foulkes' vacant place in the ranks was the girl who sat in the porch, looking up at him with those anxious, earnest eyes. "mistress amy," he said, "you surely know there is peril in this path? it were well you should count the cost afore you enter on it." "where is there not peril?" was the answer. "i may be slain of lightning to-morrow, or die of some sudden malady this next month. can you say surely that there is more peril of burning than of that? if not, come to mine help. i must find the way somehow. master ewring, i want to be _safe_! i want to feel that it will not matter how or when i go, because i know whither it shall be. and i have lost the way. i thought i had but to do well and be as good as i could, and i should sure come out safe. and i have tried that way awhile, and it serves not. first, i can't be good when i would: and again, the better i am-- as folks commonly reckon goodness--the worser i feel. there's somewhat inside me that won't do right; and there's somewhat else that isn't satisfied when i have done right; it wants something more, and i don't know what it is. master ewring, you do. tell me!" "mistress amy, what think you religion to be?" "nay, i always thought it were being good. if it's not that, i know not what it is." "but being good must spring out of something. that is the flower. what is the seed--that which is to make you `be good,' and find it easy and pleasant?" "tell me!" said amy's eyes more than her words. "my dear maid, religion is fellowship; living fellowship with the living lord. it is neither being good nor doing good, though both will spring out of it. it is an exchange made between you and the lord christ: his righteousness for your iniquity; his strength for your weakness; his rich grace for your bankrupt poverty of all goodness. mistress amy, you want christ our lord, and the holy ghost, which he shall give you--the new heart and the right spirit which be his gift, and which he died to purchase for you." "that's it!" said amy, with a light in her eyes. "but how come you by them?" "you may have them for the asking--if you do truly wish it. `whosoever _will_, let him take the water of life.' know you what saint austin saith? `thou would'st not now be setting forth to find god, if he had not first set forth to find thee.' `for by grace ye are saved, through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of god.' keep fast hold of that, mistress amy." "that 'll do!" said amy, under her breath. "i've got what i want now-- if he'll hearken to me. but, o master ewring, i'm not fit to keep fellowship with him!" "dear maid, you are that which the best and the worst man in the world are--a sinner that needeth pardon, a sinner that can be saved only through grace. have you the chance to get hold of a bible, or no?" "no! father gave up his to the priest, months agone. i never cared nought about it while i had it, and now i've lost the chance." "trust the lord to care for you. he shall send you, be sure, either the quails or the manna. he'll not let you starve. he has bound himself to bring all safe that trust in him. and--it looks not like it, verily, yet it may be that times of liberty shall come again." "master ewring, i've given you a deal of trouble," said amy, rising suddenly, "and taken ever so much time. but i'm not unthankful, trust me." "my dear maid, how can christian men spend time better than in helping a fellow soul on his way towards heaven? it's not time wasted, be sure." "no, it's not time wasted!" said amy, with more feeling than mr ewring had ever seen her show before. "farewell, dear maid," said he. "one thing i pray you to remember: what you lack is the holy ghost, for he only can show christ unto you. i or others can talk of him, but the spirit alone can reveal him to your own soul. and the spirit is promised to them that ask him." "i'll not forget, master. good even, and god bless you!" mr ewring stood a moment longer to watch amy as she ran down the road, with a step tenfold more light and elastic than the weary, languid one with which she had come up. "god bless the maid!" he said half aloud, "and may he `stablish, strengthen, settle' her! `he hath mercy on whom he will have mercy.' but we on whom he has had it aforetime, how unbelieving and hopeless we are apt to be! verily, the last recruit that i looked to see join christ's standard was nicholas clere's daughter." chapter thirty nine. the last martyrdom. "good-morrow, mistress clere! any placards of black velvet have you?" a placard with us means a large handbill for pasting on walls: in queen mary's time they meant by it a double stomacher,--namely an ornamentation for the front of a dress, put on separate from it, which might either be plain silk or velvet, or else worked with beautiful embroidery, gold twist, sometimes even pearls and precious stones. mrs clere came in all haste and much obsequiousness, for it was no less a person than the mayoress of colchester who thus inquired for a black velvet placard. "we have so, madam, and right good ones belike. amy, fetch down yonder box with the bettermost placards." amy ran up the little ladder needful to reach the higher shelves, and brought down the box. it was not often that mrs clere was asked for her superior goods, for she dealt chiefly with those whose purses would not stretch so far. "here, madam, is a fine one of carnation velvet--and here a black wrought in gold twist; or what think you of this purple bordered in pearls?" "that liketh me the best," said the mayoress taking up the purple velvet. "what cost it, mistress clere?" "twenty-six and eightpence, madam, at your pleasure." "'tis dear." "nay, madam! pray you look on the quality--velvet of the finest, and pearls of right good colour. you shall not find a better in any shop in the town." and mrs clere dexterously turned the purple placard to the light in such a manner that a little spot on one side of it should not show. "or if this carnation please you the better--" "no, i pass not upon that," said the mayoress; which meant, that she did not fancy it. "will you take four-and-twenty shillings, mistress clere?" it was then considered almost a matter of course that a shopkeeper must be offered less than he asked; and going from shop to shop to "cheapen" the articles they wanted was a common amusement of ladies. mrs clere looked doubtful. "well, truly, madam, i should gain not a penny thereby; yet rather than lose your good custom, seeing for whom it is--" "very good," said the mayoress, "put it up." amy knew that the purple placard had cost her mother shillings pence, and had been slightly damaged since it came into her hands. she knew also that mrs clere would confess the fraud to the priest, would probably be told to repeat the lord's prayer three times over as a penance for it, would gabble through the words as fast as possible, and would then consider her sin quite done away with, and her profit of shillings pence cheaply secured. she knew also that the mayoress, in all probability, was aware that mrs clere's protestation about not gaining a single penny was a mere flourish of words, not at all meant to be accepted as a fact. "is there aught of news stirring, an' it like you, madam?" asked mrs clere, as she rolled up the placard inside out, and secured it with tape. "i know of none, truly," answered the mayoress, "save to-morrow's burning, the which i would were over for such spectacles like me not-- not that i would save evil folks from the due penalty of their sins, but that i would some less displeasant manner of execution might be found. truly, what with the heat, and the dust, and the close crowds that gather, 'tis no dainty matter to behold." "you say truth, madam. indeed, the last burning we had, my daughter here was so close pressed in the crowd, and so near the fire, she fair swooned, and had to be borne thence. but who shall suffer to-morrow, an' it like you? for i heard nought thereabout." mrs clere presented the little parcel as she spoke. "only two women," said the mayoress, taking her purchase: "not nigh so great a burning as the last--so very likely the crowd shall be less also." the crowd was not much less on the waste place by the lexden road, when on the th of september, , those two martyrs were brought forth to die: agnes bongeor, full of joy and triumph, praising god that at length she was counted worthy to suffer for his name's sake; margaret thurston, the disciple who had denied him, and for whom therefore there could be no triumph; yet, even now, a meek and fervent appeal from the heart's core, of "lord, thou knowest that i love thee!" as the chain was being fastened around them a voice came from the crowd--one of those mysterious voices never to be traced to a speaker, perpetually heard at martyrdoms. "`he remembered that they were but flesh.' `he hath remembered his covenant forever.' `according to thy mercy, remember thou me!'" only margaret thurston knew who spoke three times that word never to be forgotten, once a terrible rebuke, now and evermore a benediction. so went home the last of the colchester martyrs. as mr ewring turned back, he caught sight of dorothy denny, and made his way back to her. "you come to behold, do you, dorothy?" said he, when they had turned into a quiet side street, safe from hostile ears. "ay, master, it strengthens me," she said. "thou'rt of the right stuff, then," he answered. "it weakens such as be not." "eh, i'm as weak as any one," replied dorothy. "what comforts me is to see how the good lord can put strength into the very feeblest lamb of all his flock. it seems like as if the shepherd lifted the lamb into his arms, so that it had no labour to carry itself." "ay, 'tis easy to bear a burden, when you and it be borne together," said mr ewring. "dorothy, have you strength for that burden?" "master ewring, i've given up thinking that i've any strength for any thing, and then i just go and ask for it for everything, and methinks i get along best that way." "ay, so? you are coming on fast, dorothy. many christian folks miss that lesson half their lives." "well, i don't know but they do the best that are weak," said dorothy. "look you, they know it, and know they must fetch better strength than their own; so they don't get thinking they can manage the little things themselves, and only need ask the lord to see to the greet ones." "it's true, dorothy. i can't keep from thinking of poor jack thurston; he must be either very hard or very miserable. let us pray for him, dorothy. i'm afeared it's a bad sign that he isn't with them this morrow." "you think he's given in, master ewring?" "i'm doubtful of it, dorothy." they walked on for a few minutes without speaking. "i'll try to see jack again, or pass in a word to him," said mr ewring reflectively. "eh, master ewring don't you go into peril! the lord's cause can't afford to lose you. don't 'ee, now!" "dorothy," said mr ewring with a smile, "if the lord's cause can't afford to lose me, you may be very sure it won't lose me. `the lord reigneth, be the people never so impatient.' he is on the throne, not the priests. but in truth, dorothy, the lord can afford anything: he is able of these stones to raise up children unto abraham. `he himself knew what he would do,' touching the miracle of the loaves: andrew didn't know, and philip hadn't a notion. let us trust him, dorothy, and just go forward and do our duty. we shall not die one moment before the master calleth us." chapter forty. god save the queen! "come and sit a bit with me, will. i scarce ever see you now." will johnson, a year older and bigger, scrambled up on the garden seat, and cissy put her arm round him. from having been very small of her age, cissy was suddenly shooting up into a tall, slim, lily-like girl, nearly as white as a lily, and as delicate-looking. "how are you getting on with the ladies, will?" "oh, middling." "you know you must learn as much as you can, will, of aught they teach you that is good. we're being better learned than father could have learned us, in book-learning and such; and we must mind and pay heed, the rather because maybe we sha'n't have it long." "i wish you wouldn't talk so about--father. you're for ever talking about him," said will uneasily, trying to wriggle himself out of his sister's clasp. "not talk about father!" exclaimed cissy indignantly. "will, whatever do you mean? i couldn't bear not to talk about father! it would seem like as we'd forgotten him. and you must never forget him--never!" "i don't like talking about dead folks. and--well it's no use biding it. look here. cissy--i'm going to give up." "give up what?" cissy's voice was very low. there might be pain and disappointment in it, but there was no weakness. "oh, all this standing out against the nuns. you can go on, if you like being starved and beaten and made to kneel on the chapel floor, and so forth; but i've stood it as long as i can. and--wait a bit, cis; let me have my say out--i can't see what it signifies, not one bit. what can it matter whether i say my prayers looking at yon image or not? if i said them looking at the moon, or at you, you wouldn't say i was praying to you or the moon. i'm not praying to _it_; only, if they think i am, i sha'n't get thrashed and sent to bed hungred. don't you see? that can't be idolatry." cissy was silent till she had felt her way through the mist raised by will's subterfuge into the clear daylight of truth. "shall i tell you what it would be, will?" "well? some of your queer notions, i reckon." "idolatry, with lying and cheating on the top of it. do you think they make it better?" "cis, don't say such ugly words!" "isn't it best to call ugly things by their right names?" "well, any way, it won't be my fault: it'll be theirs who made me do it." "theirs and yours too, will, if you let them make you." "i tell you, cissy, i can't stand it!" "father stood more than that," said cissy in that low, firm voice. "oh, don't be always talking about father! he was a man and could bear things. i've had enough of it. god almighty won't be hard on me, if i do give in." "hard, will! do you call it hard when people are grieved to the heart because you do something which they'd lay down their lives you shouldn't do? the lord did lay down his life for you: and yet you say that you can't bear a little hunger and a few stripes for him!" "cis, you don't know what it is. you're a maid, and i dare say they don't lay on so hard on you. it's more than a little, i can tell you." cissy knew what it was far better than will, for he was a strong boy, on whom hardships fell lightly, while she had to bear the blows and the hunger with a delicate and enfeebled frame. but she only said,-- "will, don't you care for me?" "of course i do, cis." "i think the only thing in the world that could break my heart would be to see you or nell `giving in', as you call it. i couldn't stand that, will. i can stand anything else. i hoped you cared for god and father: but if you won't heed them, i must see if you will listen to me. it would kill me, will." "oh, come, cis, don't talk so." "won't you go on trying a bit longer, will? any day the tide may turn. i don't know how, but god knows. he can bring us out of this prison all in a minute. you know he keeps count of the hairs on our heads. now, will, you know as well as i do what god said,--he did not say only, `thou shalt not worship them,' but `thou shalt not bow down to them.' oh will, will! have you forgotten all the texts father taught us?--are you forgetting father himself?" "cis, i wish you wouldn't!" "i wish _you_ wouldn't, will." "you don't think father can hear, do you?" asked will uncomfortably glancing around. "i hope he can't, indeed, or he'll be sore grieved, even in heaven, to think what his little will's coming to." "oh, well--come, i'll try a bit longer, cis, if you--but i say, i do hope it won't be long, or i _can't_ stand it." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ that night, or rather in the early hours of the following morning, a horseman came spurring up to the head gate of colchester. he alighted from his panting horse, and threw the reins on its neck. "gate, ho!" nothing but silence came in answer. "gate, ho!" cried the horseman in a louder voice. "somebody there?" asked the gatekeeper in a very sleepy voice. "tarry a minute, will you? i'll be with you anon." "tarry!" repeated the horseman with a contemptuous laugh. "thou'd not want me to tarry if thou knewest what news i bring." "good tidings, eh? let's have 'em!" said the gatekeeper in a brisker voice. "take them. `god save the queen!'" "call that tidings? we've sung that this five year." "nay you've never sung it yet--not as you will. how if it be `god save queen elizabeth'?" the gate was dashed open in the unsleepiest way that ever gate was moved. "you never mean--is the queen departed?" "queen mary is gone to her reward," replied the horseman gravely. "god save queen elizabeth!" "god be thanked, and praised!" "ay, england is free now. a man may speak his mind, and not die for it. no more burnings, friend! no more prison for reading of god's word! no more hiding of men's heads in dens and caves of the earth! god save the queen! long live the queen! may the queen live for ever!" it is not often that the old british lion is so moved by anything as to roar and dance in his inexpressible delight. but now and then he does it; and never did he dance and roar as he did on that eighteenth of november, . all over england, men went wild with joy. the terrible weight of the chains in which she had been held, was never truly felt until they were thus suddenly knocked from the shackled limbs. old, calm, sober-minded people--nay, grave and stern, precise and rigid-- every manner of man and woman--all fairly lost their heads, and were like children in their frantic glee that day men who were perfect strangers were seen in the streets shaking hands with each other as though they were the dearest friends. women who ordinarily would not of thought of speaking to one another were kissing each other and calling on each other to rejoice. nobody calmed down until he was so worn-out that wearied nature absolutely forced him to repose. it was seen that day that however she had been oppressed, compelled to silence, or tortured into apparent submission, england was protestant. the prophets had prophesied falsely, and the priests borne rule, but the people had not loved to have it so, as they very plainly showed. colchester had declared for mary five years before, because she was the true heir who had the right to reign, and rebellion was not right because her religion was wrong: but now that god delivered them from her awful tyranny, colchester was not behind the rest of england in giving thanks to him. we are worse off now. the prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means. it has not reached to the point it did then; but how soon will it do so?--for, last and worst of all, the people love to have it so. may god awake the people of england! for his mercies' sake, let us not have to say, england flung off the chains of bondage and the sin of idolatry under queen elizabeth; but she bound them tight again, of her own will, under queen victoria! chapter forty one. a blessed day. "dorothy! dorothy denny! wherever can the woman have got to?" mr ewring had already tapped several times with his stick on the brick floor of the king's head kitchen, and had not heard a sound in answer. the clock ticked to and fro, and the tabby cat purred softly as she sat before the fire, and the wood now and then gave a little crackle as it burned gently away, and those were all the signs of life to be seen on the premises. getting tired at last, mr ewring went out into the courtyard, and called in his loudest tones--"do-ro-thy!" he thought he heard a faint answer of "coming!" which sounded high up and a long way off: so he went back to the kitchen, and took a seat on the hearth opposite the cat. in a few minutes the sound of running down stairs was audible, and at last dorothy appeared--her gown pinned up behind, her sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and her entire aspect that of a woman who had just come off hard and dirty work. "eh, master ewring! but i'm sorry to have kept you a-waiting. look you, i was mopping out the--dear heart, but what is come to you? has the resurrection happened? for your face looks nigh too glad for aught else." the gladness died suddenly away, as those words brought to mr ewring the thought of something which could not happen--the memory of the beloved face which for thirty years had been the light of his home, and which he should behold in this world never any more. "nay, dorothy--nay, not that! yet it will be, one day, thank god! and we have much this morrow to thank god for, whereof i came to tell thee." "why, what has come, trow?" the glad light rose again to mr ewring's eyes. "gideon has come, and hath subdued the midianites!" he answered, with a ring of triumph in his voice. "king david is come, and the philistines will take flight, and israel shall sit in peace under his vine and fig-tree. may god save elizabeth our queen!" "good lack, but you never mean _that_!" cried dorothy in a voice as delighted as his own. "why then, mistress 'll be back to her own, and them poor little dears 'll be delivered from them black snakes, and there 'll be bible-reading and sermons again." "ay, every one of them, i trust. and a man may say what he will that is right, without looking first round to see if a spy be within hearing. we are free, dorothy, once more." "eh, but it do feel like a dream! i shall have to pinch myself to make sure i'm awake. but, master, do you think it is sure? she haven't changed, think you?" mr ewring shook his head. "the lady elizabeth suffered with us," he said, "and she will not forsake us now. no, dorothy, she has not changed: she is not one to change. let us not distrust either her or the lord. ah, he knew what he would do! it was to be a sharp, short hour of tribulation, through which his church was to pass, to purify, and try, and make her white: and now the land shall have rest forty years, that she may sing to him a new song on the sea of glass. those five years have lit the candle of england's church, and as our good old bishop said in dying, by god's grace it shall never be put out." "well, sure, it's a blessed day!" "dorothy, can you compass to drive with me to hedingham again? i think long till those poor children be rescued. and the nuns will be ready and glad to give them up; they'll not want to be found with protestant children in their keeping--children, too, of a martyred man." "master ewring, give me but time to get me tidied and my hood, and i'll go with you this minute, if you will. i was mopping out the loft. when mistress do come back, she shall find her house as clean as she'd have had it if she'd been here, and that's clean enough, i can tell you." "right, friend, `faithful in a little, faithful also in much.' dorothy, you'd have made a good martyr." "me, master?" mr ewring smiled. "well, whether shall it be to-morrow, or leave over sunday?" "if it liked you, master, i would say to-morrow. poor little dears! they'll be so pleased to come back to their friends. i can be ready for them--i'll work early and late but i will. did you think of taking the little lad yourself, or are they all to bide with me?" "i'll take him the minute he's old enough, and no more needs a woman's hand about him. you know, dorothy, there be no woman in mine house-- now." "well, he'll scarce be that yet, i reckon. howbeit, the first thing is to fetch 'em. master, when think you mistress shall be let go?" "it is hard to say, dorothy, for we've heard so little. but if she be in the bishop of london's keeping, as she was, i cast no doubt she shall be delivered early. doubtless all the bishops that refuse to conform shall be deprived: and he will not conform, without he be a greater rogue than i think." there was something of the spirit of the earliest christians when they had all things common, in the matter-of-course way in which it was understood on both sides that each was ready to take charge, at any sacrifice of time, money, or ease, of children who had been left fatherless by martyrdom. early the next morning, the miller's cart drew up before the door of the king's head, and dorothy, hooded and cloaked, with a round basket on her arm, was quite ready to get in. the drive to hedingham was pleasant enough, cold as the weather was; and at last they reached the barred gate of the convent. dorothy alighted from the cart. "i'll see you let in, dorothy, ere i leave you," said he, "if indeed i have to leave you at all. i should never marvel if they brought the children forth, and were earnest to be rid of them at once." it did not seem like it, however, for several knocks were necessary before the wicket unclosed. the portress looked relieved when she saw who was there. "what would you?" asked she. mr ewring had given dorothy advice how to proceed. "an' it like you, might i see the children? cicely johnson and the little ones." "come within," said the portress, "and i will inquire." this appeared more promising. dorothy was led to the guest-chamber, and was not kept waiting. only a few minutes had elapsed when the prioress herself appeared. "you wish to see the children?" she said. "i wish to take them with me, if you please," answered dorothy audaciously. "i look for my mistress back shortly, and she was aforetime desirous to bring them up. i will take the full charge of them, with your leave." "truly, and my leave you shall have. we shall be right glad to be rid of the charge, for a heavy one it has been, and a wearisome. a more obstinate, perverse, ungovernable maid than cicely never came in my hands." "thank the lord!" said dorothy. "poor creatures!" said the prioress. "i suppose you will do your best to undo our teaching, and their souls will be lost. howbeit, we were little like to have saved them. and it will be well, now for the community that they should go. wait, and i will send them to you." dorothy waited half-an-hour. at the end of that time a door opened in the wainscot, which she had not known was there, and a tall, pale, slender girl of eleven, looking older than she was, came forward. "dorothy denny!" said cissy's unchanged voice, in tones of unmistakable delight. "oh, they didn't tell me who it was! are we to go with _you_?--back to colchester? has something happened? do tell me what is going to become of us." "my dear heart, peace and happiness, if it please the lord. master ewring and i have come to fetch you all. the queen is departed to god, and the lady elizabeth is now queen; and the nuns are ready enough to be rid of you. if my dear mistress come home safe--as please god, she shall--you shall be all her children, and master ewring hath offered to take will when he be old enough, and learn him his trade. your troubles be over, i trust the lord, for some while." "it's just in time!" said cissy with a gasp of relief. "oh, how wicked i have been, not to trust god better! and he was getting this ready for us all the while!" chapter forty two. what they found at the king's head. mr ewring had stayed at the gate, guessing that dorothy would not be long in fulfilling her errand. he cast the reins on the neck of his old bay horse, and allowed it to crop the grass while he waited. many a short prayer for the success of the journey went up as he sat there. at last the gate was opened, and a boy of seven years old bounded out of it and ran up to the cart. "master ewring, is that you? i'm glad to see you. we're all coming. is that old tim?" "that's old tim, be sure," said the miller. "pat him, will, and then give me your hand and make a long jump." will obeyed, just as the gate opened again, and dorothy came out of it with the two little girls. little nell--no longer baby--could walk now, and chatter too, though few except cissy understood what she said. she talked away in a very lively manner, until dorothy lifted her into the cart, when the sight of mr ewring seemed to exert a paralysing effect upon her, nor was she reassured at once by his smile. "dear heart, but it 'll be a close fit!" said dorothy. "how be we to pack ourselves?" "cissy must sit betwixt us," answered the miller; "she's not quite so fat as a sack of flour. take the little one on your knees, dorothy; and will shall come in front of me, and take his first lesson in driving tim." they settled themselves accordingly, will being highly delighted at his promotion. "well, i reckon you are not sorry to be forth of that place?" suggested mr ewring. "oh, so glad!" said cissy, under her breath. "and how hath will stood out?" was the next question, which produced profound silence for a few seconds. then will broke forth. "i haven't, master ewring--at least, it's cissy's doing, and she's had hard work to make me stick. i should have given up ever so many times if she'd have let me. i didn't think i could stand it much longer, and it was only last night i told her so, and she begged and prayed me to hold on." "that's an honest lad," said mr ewring. "and that's a dear maid," added dorothy. "then cissy stood out, did she?" "cissy! eh, they'd never have got _her_ to kneel down to their ugly images, not if they'd cut her head off for it. she's just like a stone wall. nell did, till cissy got hold of her and told her not; but she didn't know what it meant, so i hope it wasn't wicked. you see, she's so little, and she forgets what is said to her." "ay, ay; poor little dear!" said dorothy. "and what did they to you, my poor dears, when you wouldn't?" "oh, lots of things," said will. "beat us sometimes, and shut us in dark cupboards, and sent us to bed without supper. one night they made cissy--" "never mind, will," said cissy blushing. "but they'd better know," said will stoutly. "they made cissy kneel all night on the floor of the dormitory, tied to a bed-post. they said if she wouldn't kneel to the saint, she should kneel without it. and sister mary asked her how she liked saying her prayers to the moon." "cruel, hard-hearted wretches!" exclaimed dorothy. "then they used to keep us several hours without anything to eat, and at the end of it they would hold out something uncommon good, and just when we were going to take it they'd snatch it away." "i'll tell you what, if i had known that a bit sooner, they'd have had a piece of my mind," said dorothy. "with some thorns on it, i guess," commented the miller. "eh, dear, but i marvel if i could have kept my fingers off 'em! and they beat thee, will?" "hard," said will. "and thee, cissy?" "yes--sometimes," said cissy quietly. "but i did not care for that, if they'd have left alone harassing will. you see, he's younger than me, and he doesn't remember father as well. if there hadn't been any right and wrong about it, i could not have done what would vex father." tim trotted on for a while, and will was deeply interested in his driving lesson. about a mile from colchester, mr ewring rather suddenly pulled up. "love! is that you?" he said. john love, who was partly hidden by some bushes, came out and showed himself. "ay, and i well-nigh marvel it is either you or me," said he significantly. "truly, you may say so. i believe we were aforetime the best noted `heretics' in all colchester. and yet here we be, on the further side of these five bitter years, left to rejoice together." "love, i would your agnes would look in on me a time or two," said dorothy. "i have proper little wit touching babes, and she might help me to a thing or twain." "you'll have as much as the nuns, shouldn't marvel," said love, smiling. "but i'll bid agnes look in. you're about to care for the little ones, then?" "ay, till they get better care," said dorothy, simply. "you'll win the lord's blessing with them. good den! by the way, have you heard that jack thurston's still staunch?" "is he so? i'm right glad." "ay, they say--bartle it was told a neighbour of mine--he's held firm till the priests were fair astonied at him; they thought they'd have brought him round, and that was why they never burned him. he'll come forth now, i guess." "not a doubt of it. there shall be some right happy deliverances all over the realm, and many an happy meeting," said mr ewring, with a faint sigh at the thought that no such blessedness was in store for him, until he should reach the gate of the celestial city. "good den, jack." they drove in at the north gate, down balcon lane, with a passing greeting to amy clere, who was taking down mantles at the shop door, and whose whole face lighted up at the sight, and turned through the great archway into the courtyard of the king's head. the cat came out to meet them, with arched back and erect tail, and began to mew and rub herself against dorothy, having evidently some deeply interesting communication to make in cat language; but what it was they could not even guess until they reached the kitchen. "sure," said dorothy, "there's somebody here beside barbara. run in, my dears," she added to the children. "methinks there must be company in the kitchen, and if bab be all alone to cook and serve for a dozen, she'll be fain to see me returned. tell her i'm come, and will be there in a minute, only i'd fain not wake the babe, for she's weary with unwonted sights." little helen had fallen asleep in dorothy's arms. cissy and will went forward into the kitchen. barbara was there, but instead of company, only one person was seated in the big carved chair before the fire, furnished with red cushions. that was the only sort of easy chair then known. "ah, here they are!" said an unexpected voice. "the lord be praised! i've all my family safe at last." dorothy, coming in with little helen, nearly dropped her in astonished delight. "mistress wade!" cried mr ewring, following her. "truly, you are a pleasant sight, and i am full fain to welcome you back. i trusted we should so do ere long, but i looked not to behold you thus soon." "well, and you are a pleasant sight, master ewring, to her eyes that for fourteen months hath seen little beside the sea-coals [note ] in the bishop of london's coalhouse. that's where he sets his prisoners that be principally [note ] lodged, and he was pleased to account of me as a great woman," said mrs wade, cheerily. "but we have right good cause to praise god, every one; and next after that to give some thanks to each other. i've heard much news from bab, touching many folks and things, and thee not least, doll. trust me, i never guessed into how faithful hands all my goods should fall, nor how thou shouldst keep matters going as well as if i had been here mine own self. thou shalt find in time to come that i know a true friend and an honest servant, and account of her as much worth. so you are to be my children now and henceforth?--only i hear, master ewring, you mean to share the little lad with me. that's right good. what hast thou to say, little cicely?" "please, mistress wade, i think god has taken good care of us, and i only hope he's told father." "dear child, thy father shall lack no telling," said mr ewring. "he is where no shade of mistrust can come betwixt him and god, and he knows with certainty, as the angels do, that all shall be well with you for ever." cissy looked up. "please, may we sing the hymn rose did, when she was taken down to the dungeon?" "sing, my child, and we will join thee." "praise god, from whom all blessings flow, praise him, all creatures here below; praise him above, ye heavenly host, praise father, son, and holy ghost!" "dear heart! but that's sweet!" said dorothy, wiping her eyes. "truth! but they sing it better _there_," responded mr ewring softly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . coals.--all coal then came to london by sea. note . principally: handsomely. the end. none an open letter on translating by dr. martin luther, - translated from: "sendbrief von dolmetschen" in _dr. martin luthers werke_, (weimar: hermann boehlaus nachfolger, ), band , teil ii, pp. - by gary mann, ph.d. assistant professor of religion/theology augustana college rock island, illinois preface wenceslas link to all believers in christ: the wise solomon says in proverbs : "the people who withhold grain curse him. but there is a blessing on those who sell it." this verse speaks truly concerning all that can serve the common good or the well-being of christendom. this is the reason the master in the gospel reprimands the unfaithful servant like a lazy scoundrel for having hidden and buried his money in the ground. so that this curse of the lord and the entire church might be avoided, i must publish this letter which came into my possession through a good friend. i could not withhold it, as there has been much discussion about the translating of the old and new testaments. it has been charged by the despisers of truth that the text has been modified and even falsified in many places, which has shocked and startled many simple christians, even among the educated who do not know any hebrew or greek. it is devoutly hoped that with this publication the slander of the godless will be stopped and the scruples of the devout removed, at least in part. it may even give rise to more writing on such matters and questions such as these. so i ask all friends of the truth to seriously take this work to heart and faithfully pray to god for a proper understanding of the divine scriptures towards the improvement and increase of our common christendom. amen. nuremberg sept. , . to the honorable and worthy n., my favorite lord and friend. grace and peace in christ, honorable, worthy and dear lord and friend. i received your writing with the two questions or queries requesting my response. in the first place, you ask why i, in the rd chapter of romans, translated the words of st. paul: "arbitramur hominem iustificari ex fide absque operibus" as "we hold that the human will be justified without the works of the law but only by faith." you also tell me that the papists are causing a great fuss because st. paul's text does not contain the word sola (alone), and that my changing of the words of god is not to be tolerated. secondly, you ask if the departed saints intercede for us. regarding the first question, you can give the papists this answer from me--if you so desire. on the first hand, if i, dr. luther, had thought that all the papists together were capable of translating even one passage of scripture correctly and well, i would have gathered up enough humility to ask for their aid and assistance in translating the new testament into german. however, i spared them and myself the trouble, as i knew and still see with my own eyes that not one of them knows how to speak or translate german. it is obvious, however, that they are learning to speak and write german from my translations. thus, they are stealing my language from me--a language they had little knowledge of before this. however, they do not thank me for this but instead use it against me. yet i readily grant them this as it tickles me to know that i have taught my ungrateful students, even my enemies, to speak. secondly, you might say that i have conscientiously translated the new testament into german to the best of my ability, and that i have not forced anyone to read it. rather i have left it open, only doing the translation as a service to those who could not do it as well. no one is forbidden to do it better. if someone does not wish to read it, he can let it lie, for i do not ask anyone to read it or praise anyone who does! it is my testament and my translation--and it shall remain mine. if i have made errors within it (although i am not aware of any and would most certainly be unwilling to intentionally mistranslate a single letter) i will not allow the papists to judge for their ears continue to be too long and their hee-haws too weak for them to be critical of my translating. i know quite well how much skill, hard work, understanding and intelligence is needed for a good translation. they know it less than even the miller's donkey for they have never tried it. it is said, "the one who builds along the pathway has many masters." it is like this with me. those who have not ever been able to speak correctly (to say nothing of translating) have all at once become my masters and i their pupil. if i were to have asked them how to translate the first two words of matthew "liber generationis" into german, not one of them would have been able to say "quack!" and they judge all my works! fine fellows! it was also like this for st. jerome when he translated the bible. everyone was his master. he alone was entirely incompetent as people, who were not good enough to clean his boots, judged his works. this is why it takes a great deal of patience to do good things in public for the world believes itself to be the master of knowledge, always putting the bit under the horse's tail, and not judging itself for that is the world's nature. it can do nothing else. i would gladly see a papist come forward and translate into german an epistle of st. paul's or one of the prophets and, in doing so, not make use of luther's german or translation. then one might see a fine, beautiful and noteworthy translation into german. we have seen that bungler from dresden play master to my new testament. (i will not mention his name in my books as he has his judge and is already well-known). he does admit that my german is good and sweet and that he could not improve it. yet, anxious to dishonor it, he took my new testament word for word as it was written, and removed my prefaces and glosses, replacing them with his own. then he published my new testament under his name! dear children, how it pained me when his prince in a detestable preface condemned my work and forbid all from reading luther's new testament, while at the same time commending the bungler's new testament to be read--even though it was the very same one luther had written! so no one thinks i am lying, put luther's and the bungler's new testaments side by side and compare them. you will see who did the translation for both. he has patched it in places and reordered it (and although it does not all please me) i can still leave it be for it does me no particular harm as far as the document is concerned. that is why i never intended to write in opposition to it. but i did have a laugh at the great wisdom that so terribly slandered, condemned and forbade my new testament, when it was published under my name, but required its reading when published under an other's name! what type of virtue is this that slanders and heaps shame on someone else's work, and then steals it, and publishes it under one's own name, thereby seeking glory and esteem through the slandered work of someone else! i leave that for his judge to say. i am glad and satisfied that my work (as st. paul also boasts ) is furthered by my enemies, and that luther's work, without luther's name but that of his enemy, is to be read. what better vengeance?! returning to the issue at hand, if your papist wishes to make a great fuss about the word "alone" (sola), say this to him: "dr. martin luther will have it so and he says that a papist and an ass are the same thing." sic volo, sic iubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas. (i will it, i command it; my will is reason enough) for we are not going to become students and followers of the papists. rather we will become their judge and master. we, too, are going to be proud and brag with these blockheads; and just as st. paul brags against his madly raving saints, i will brag over these asses of mine! they are doctors? me too. they are scholars? i am as well. they are philosophers? and i. they are dialecticians? i am too. they are lecturers? so am i. they write books? so do i. i will go even further with my bragging: i can exegete the psalms and the prophets, and they cannot. i can translate, and they cannot. i can read holy scriptures, and they cannot. i can pray, they cannot. coming down to their level, i can do their dialectics and philosophy better than all of them put together. plus i know that not one of them understands aristotle. if, in fact, any one of them can correctly understand one part or chapter of aristotle, i will eat my hat! no, i am not overdoing it for i have been educated in and have practiced their science since my childhood. i recognize how broad and deep it is. they, too, know that everything they can do, i can do. yet they handle me like a stranger in their discipline, these incurable fellows, as if i had just arrived this morning and had never seen or heard what they know and teach. how they do so brilliantly parade around with their science, teaching me what i grew beyond twenty years ago! to all their shouting and screaming i join the harlot in singing: "i have known for seven years that horseshoe nails are iron." so this can be the answer to your first question. please do not give these asses any other answer to their useless braying about that word "sola" than simply "luther will have it so, and he says that he is a doctor above all the papal doctors." let it remain at that. i will, from now on, hold them in contempt, and have already held them in contempt, as long as they are the kind of people that they are--asses, i should say. and there are brazen idiots among them who have never learned their own art of sophistry--like dr. schmidt and snot-nose, and such like them. they set themselves against me in this matter, which not only transcends sophistry, but as st. paul writes, all the wisdom and understanding in the world as well. an ass truly does not have to sing much as he is already known for his ears. for you and our people, however, i shall show why i used the word "sola"--even though in romans it wasn't "sola" i used but "solum" or "tantum". that is how closely those asses have looked at my text! however, i have used "sola fides" in other places, and i want to use both "solum" and "sola". i have continually tried translating in a pure and accurate german. it has happened that i have sometimes searched and inquired about a single word for three or four weeks. sometimes i have not found it even then. i have worked meister philip and aurogallus so hard in translating job, sometimes barely translating lines after four days. now that it has been translated into german and completed, all can read and criticize it. one can now read three or four pages without stumbling one time--without realizing just what rocks and hindrances had once been where now one travels as as if over a smoothly-cut plank. we had to sweat and toil there before we removed those rocks and hindrances, so one could go along nicely. the plowing goes nicely in a clear field. but nobody wants the task of digging out the rocks and hindrances. there is no such thing as earning the world's thanks. even god cannot earn thanks, not with the sun, nor with heaven and earth, or even the death of his son. it just is and remains as it is, in the devil's name, as it will not be anything else. i also know that in rom. , the word "solum" is not present in either greek or latin text--the papists did not have to teach me that--it is fact! the letters s-o-l-a are not there. and these knotheads stare at them like cows at a new gate, while at the same time they do not recognize that it conveys the sense of the text--if the translation is to be clear and accurate, it belongs there. i wanted to speak german since it was german i had spoken in translation--not latin or greek. but it is the nature of our language that in speaking about two things, one which is affirmed, the other denied, we use the word "solum" only along with the word "not" (nicht) or "no" (kein). for example, we say "the farmer brings only (allein) grain and no money"; or "no, i really have no money, but only (allein) grain"; "i have only eaten and not yet drunk"; "did you write it only and not read it over?" there are a vast number of such everyday cases. in all these phrases, this is a german usage, even though it is not the latin or greek usage. it is the nature of the german tongue to add "allein" in order that "nicht" or "kein" may be clearer and more complete. to be sure, i can also say "the farmer brings grain and no (kein) money", but the words "kein money" do not sound as full and clear as if i were to say, "the farmer brings allein grain and kein money." here the word "allein" helps the word "kein" so much that it becomes a clear and complete german expression. we do not have to ask about the literal latin or how we are to speak german--as these asses do. rather we must ask the mother in the home, the children on the street, the common person in the market about this. we must be guided by their tongue, the manner of their speech, and do our translating accordingly. then they will understand it and recognize that we are speaking german to them. for instance, christ says: ex abundatia cordis os loquitur. if i am to follow these asses, they will lay the original before me literally and translate it as: "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." is that speaking with a german tongue? what german could understand something like that? what is this "abundance of the heart?" no german can say that; unless, of course, he was trying to say that someone was altogether too magnanimous, or too courageous, though even that would not yet be correct, as "abundance of the heart" is not german, not any more than "abundance of the house", "abundance of the stove" or "abundance of the bench" is german. but the mother in the home and the common man say this: "what fills the heart overflows the mouth." that is speaking with the proper german tongue of the kind i have tried for, although unfortunately not always successfully. the literal latin is a great barrier to speaking proper german. so, as the traitor judas says in matthew : "ut quid perditio haec?" and in mark : "ut quid perditio iste unguenti facta est?" subsequently, for these literalist asses i would have to translate it: "why has this loss of salve occurred?" but what kind of german is this? what german says "loss of salve occurred"? and if he does understand it at all, he would think that the salve is lost and must be looked for and found again; even though that is still obscure and uncertain. now if that is good german why do they not come out and make us a fine, new german testament and let luther's testament be? i think that would really bring out their talents. but a german would say "ut quid, etc.." as "why this waste?" or "why this extravagance?" even "it is a shame about the ointment"--these are good german, in which one can understand that magdalene had wasted the salve she poured out and had done wrong. that was what judas meant as he thought he could have used it better. now when the angel greets mary, he says: "greetings to you, mary, full of grace, the lord is with you." well up to this point, this has simply been translated from the simple latin, but tell me is that good german? since when does a german speak like that--being "full of grace"? one would have to think about a keg "full of" beer or a purse "full of" money. so i translated it: "you gracious one". this way a german can at last think about what the angel meant by his greeting. yet the papists rant about me corrupting the angelic greeting--and i still have not used the most satisfactory german translation. what if i had used the most satisfactory german and translated the salutation: "god says hello, mary dear" (for that is what the angel was intending to say and what he would have said had he even been german!). if i had, i believe that they would have hanged themselves out of their great devotion to dear mary and because i have destroyed the greeting. yet why should i be concerned about their ranting and raving? i will not stop them from translating as they want. but i too shall translate as i want and not to please them, and whoever does not like it can just ignore it and keep his criticism to himself, for i will neither look at nor listen to it. they do not have to answer for or bear responsibility for my translation. listen up, i shall say "gracious mary" and "dear mary", and they can say "mary full of grace". anyone who knows german also knows what an expressive word "dear"(liebe) is: dear mary, dear god, the dear emperor, the dear prince, the dear man, the dear child. i do not know if one can say this word "liebe" in latin or in other languages with so much depth of emotion that it pierces the heart and echoes throughout as it does in our tongue. i think that st. luke, as a master of the hebrew and greek tongues, wanted to clarify and articulate the greek word "kecharitomene" that the angel used. and i think that the angel gabriel spoke with mary just as he spoke with daniel, when he called him "chamudoth" and "ish chamudoth, vir desiriorum", that is "dear daniel." that is the way gabriel speaks, as we can see in daniel. now if i were to literally translate the words of the angel, and use the skills of these asses, i would have to translate it as "daniel, you man of desires" or "daniel, you man of lust". oh, that would be beautiful german! a german would, of course, recognize "man", "lueste" and "begirunge" as being german words, although not altogether pure as "lust" and "begir" would be better. but when those words are put together you get "you man of desires" and no german is going to understand that. he might even think that daniel is full of lustful desires. now wouldn't that be a fine translation! so i have to let the literal words go and try to discover how the german says what the hebrew "ish chamudoth" expresses. i discover that the german says this, "you dear daniel", "you dear mary", or "you gracious maiden", "you lovely maiden", "you gentle girl" and so on. a translator must have a large vocabulary so he can have more words for when a particular one just does not fit in the context. why should i talk about translating so much? i would need an entire year were i to point out the reasons and concerns behind my words. i have learned what an art and job translating is by experience, so i will not tolerate some papal ass or mule as my critic, or judge. they have not tried the task. if anyone does not like my translations, they can ignore it; and may the devil repay the one who dislikes or criticizes my translations without my knowledge or permission. should it be criticized, i will do it myself. if i do not do it, then they can leave my translations in peace. they can each do a translation that suits them--what do i care? to this i can, with good conscience, give witness--that i gave my utmost effort and care and i had no ulterior motives. i have not taken or wanted even a small coin in return. neither have i made any by it. god knows that i have not even sought honor by it, but i have done it as a service to the blessed christians and to the honor of the one who sits above who blesses me every hour of my life that had i translated a thousand times more diligently, i should not have deserved to live or have a sound eye for even a single hour. all i am and have to offer is from his mercy and grace--indeed of his precious blood and bitter sweat. therefore, god willing, all of it will also serve to his honor, joyfully and sincerely. i may be insulted by the scribblers and papists but true christians, along with christ, their lord, bless me. further, i am more than amply rewarded if just one christian acknowledge me as a workman with integrity. i do not care about the papists, as they are not good enough to acknowledge my work and, if they were to bless me, it would break my heart. i may be insulted by their highest praise and honor, but i will still be a doctor, even a distinguished one. i am certain that they shall never take from me until the final day. yet i have not just gone ahead, ignoring the exact wording in the original. instead, with great care, i have, along with my helpers, gone ahead and have kept literally to the original, without the slightest deviation, wherever it appeared that a passage was crucial. for instance, in john christ says: "him has god the father set his seal upon (versiegelt)." it would be more clear in german to say "him has god the father signified (gezeiehent)" or even "god the father means him." but rather than doing violence to the original, i have done violence to the german tongue. ah, translating is not every one's skill as some mad saints think. a right, devout, honest, sincere, god-fearing christian, trained, educated, and experienced heart is required. so i hold that no false christian or divisive spirit can be a good translator. that is obvious given the translation of the prophets at worms which although carefully done and approximating my own german quite closely, does not show much reverence for christ due to the jews who shared in the translation. aside from that it shows plenty of skill and craftsmanship there. so much for translating and the nature of language. however, i was not depending upon or following the nature of language when i inserted the word "solum" (alone) in rom. as the text itself, and st. paul's meaning, urgently necessitated and demanded it. he is dealing with the main point of christian doctrine in this passage--namely that we are justified by faith in christ without any works of the law. in fact, he rejects all works so completely as to say that the works of the law, though it is god's law and word, do not aid us in justification. using abraham as an example, he argues that abraham was so justified without works that even the highest work, which had been commanded by god, over and above all others, namely circumcision, did not aid him in justification. instead, abraham was justified without circumcision and without any works, but by faith, as he says in chapter : "if abraham is justified by works, he may boast, but not before god." however, when all works are so completely rejected--which must mean faith alone justifies--whoever would speak plainly and clearly about this rejection of works would have to say "faith alone justifies and not works." the matter itself and the nature of language necessitates it. "yet", they say, "it has such an offensive tone that people infer from it that they need not do any good works." dear, what are we to say? is it not more offensive for st. paul himself to not use the term "faith alone" but spell it even more clearly, putting the finishing touches on it by saying "without the works of the law?" gal. [ . ] says that "not by works of the law" (as well as in many other places) for the phrase "without the works of the law" is so ever offensive, and scandalous that no amount of revision can help it. how much more might people learn from "that they need not do any good works", when all they hear is preaching about the works themselves, stated in such a clear strong way: "no works", "without works", "not by works"! if it is not offensive to preach "without works", "not by works", "no works", why is it offensive to preach "by faith alone"? still more offensive is that st. paul does not reject just ordinary works, but works of the law! it follows that one could take offense at that all the more and say that the law is condemned and cursed before god and one ought only do what is contrary to the law as it is said in rom. : "why not do evil so that there might be more good?" which is what that one divisive spirit of our time was doing. should one reject st. paul's word because of such 'offense' or refrain from speaking freely about faith? gracious, st. paul and i want to offend like this for we preach so strongly against works, insisting on faith alone for no other reason than to offend people that they might stumble and fall and learn that they are not saved by good works but only by christ's death and resurrection. knowing that they cannot be saved by their good works of the law, how much more will they realize that they shall not be saved by bad works, or without the law! therefore, it does not follow that because good works do not help, bad works will; just as it does not follow that because the sun cannot help a blind person see, the night and darkness must help him see. it astounds me that one can be offended by something as obvious as this! just tell me, is christ's death and resurrection our work, what we do, or not? it is obviously not our work, nor is it the work of the law. now it is christ's death and resurrection alone which saves and frees us from sin, as paul writes in rom. : "he died for our sin and arose for our righteousness." tell me more! what is the work by which we take hold of christ's death and resurrection? it must not be an external work but only the eternal faith in the heart that alone, indeed all alone, which takes hold of this death and resurrection when it is preached through the gospel. then why all this ranting and raving, this making of heretics and burning of them, when it is clear at its very core, proving that faith alone takes hold of christ's death and resurrection, without any works, and that his death and resurrection are our life and righteousness? as this fact is so obvious, that faith alone gives, brings, and takes a hold of this life and righteousness--why should we not say so? it is not heretical that faith alone holds on to christ and gives life; and yet it seems to be heresy if someone mentions it. are they not insane, foolish and ridiculous? they will say that one thing is right but brand the telling of this right thing as wrong--even though something cannot be simultaneously right and wrong. furthermore, i am not the only one, nor the first, to say that faith alone makes one righteous. there was ambrose, augustine and many others who said it before me. and if one is to read and understand st. paul, the same thing must be said and not anything else. his words, as well, are blunt--"no works"--none at all! if it is not works, it must be faith alone. oh what a marvelous, constructive and inoffensive teaching that would be, to be taught that one can be saved by works as well as by faith. that would be like saying that it is not christ's death alone that takes away our sin but that our works have something to do with it. now that would be a fine way of honoring christ's death, saying that it is helped by our works, and that whatever it does our works can also do--that we are his equal in goodness and power. this is the devil itself for he cannot ever stop abusing the blood of christ. therefore the matter itself, at its very core, necessitates that one say: "faith alone makes one righteous." the nature of the german tongue teaches us to say it in the same way. in addition, i have the examples of the holy fathers. the dangers confronting the people also compel it so they do not continue to hang onto works and wander away from faith, losing christ, especially at this time when they have been so accustomed to works they have to be pulled away from them by force. it is for these reasons that it is not only right but also necessary to say it as plainly and forcefully as possible: "faith alone saves without works!" i am only sorry i did not add "alle" and "aller", and said "without any (alle) works or any (aller) laws." that would have stated it most effectively. therefore, it will remain in the new testament, and though all the papal asses rant and rave at me, they shall not take it away from me. let this be enough for now. i will have to speak more about this in the treatise "on justification" (if god grants me grace). on the other question as to whether the departed saints intercede for us. for the present i am only going to give a brief answer as i am considering publishing a sermon on the beloved angels in which i will respond more fully on this matter (god willing). first, you know that under the papacy it is not only taught that the saints in heaven intercede for us--even though we cannot know this as the scripture does not tell us such--but the saints have been made into gods, and that they are to be our patrons to whom we should call. some of them have never existed! to each of these saints a particular power and might has been given--one over fire, another over water, another over pestilence, fever and all sorts of plagues. indeed, god must have been altogether idle to have let the saints work in his place. of this atrocity the papists themselves are aware, as they quietly take up their pipes and preen and primp themselves over this doctrine of the intercession of the saints. i will leave this subject for now--but you can count on my not forgetting it and allowing this primping and preening to continue without cost. and again, you know that there is not a single passage from god demanding us to call upon either saints or angels to intercede for us, and that there is no example of such in the scriptures. one finds that the beloved angels spoke with the fathers and the prophets, but that none of them had ever been asked to intercede for them. why even jacob the patriarch did not ask the angel with whom he wrestled for any intercession. instead, he only took from him a blessing. in fact, one finds the very opposite in revelation as the angel will not allow itself to be worshipped by john. [rev. ] so the worship of saints shows itself as nothing but human nonsense, our own invention separated from the word of god and the scriptures. as it is not proper in the matter of divine worship for us to do anything that is not commanded by god (and that whoever does is putting god to the test), it is therefore also not advisable or tolerable for one to call upon the saints for intercession or to teach others to do so. in fact, it is to be condemned and people taught to avoid it. therefore, i also will not advise it and burden my conscience with the iniquities of others. it was difficult for me to stop from worshipping the saints as i was so steeped in it to have nearly drowned. but the light of the gospel is now shining so brightly that from now on no one has an excuse for remaining in the darkness. we all very well know what we are to do. this is itself a very risky and blasphemous way to worship for people are easily accustomed to turning away from christ. they learn quickly to trust more in the saints than in christ himself. when our nature is already all too prone to run from god and christ, and trust in humanity, it is indeed difficult to learn to trust in god and christ, even though we have vowed to do so and are therefore obligated to do so. therefore, this offense is not to be tolerated whereby those who are weak and of the flesh participate in idolatry, against the first commandment and our baptism. even if one tries nothing other than to switch their trust from the saints to christ, through teaching and practice, it will be difficult to accomplish, that one should come to him and rightly take hold of him. one need not paint the devil on the door--he will already be present. we can finally be certain that god is not angry with us, and that even if we do not call on the saints for intercession, we are secure for god has never commanded it. god says that god is a jealous god granting their iniquities on those who do not keep his commandments [ex. ]; but there is no commandment here and, therefore, no anger to be feared. since, then, there is on this side security and on the other side great risk and offense against the word of god, why should we go from security into danger where we do not have the word of god to sustain, comfort and save us in the times of trial? for it is written, "whoever loves danger will perish by it" [ecclus. ], and god's commandment says, "you shall not put the lord your god to the test" [matt. ]. "but," they say, "this way you condemn all of christendom which has always maintained this--until now." i answer: i know very well that the priests and monks seek this cloak for their blasphemies. they want to give to christendom the damage caused by their own negligence. then, when we say, "christendom does not err," we shall also be saying that they do not err, since christendom believes it to be so. so no pilgrimage can be wrong, no matter how obviously the devil is a participant in it. no indulgence can be wrong, regardless of how horrible the lies involved. in other words, there is nothing there but holiness! therefore to this you reply, "it is not a question of who is and who is not condemned." they inject this irrelevant idea in order to divert us from the topic at hand. we are now discussing the word of god. what christendom is or does belongs somewhere else. the question here is: "what is or is not the word of god? what is not the word of god does not make christendom." we read that in the days of elijah the prophet there was apparently no word from god and no worship of god in israel. for elijah says, "lord, they have killed your prophets and destroyed your altars, and i am left totally alone" [i kings ]. here king ahab and others could have said, "elijah, with talk like that you are condemning all the people of god." however god had at the same time kept seven thousand [i kings ]. how? do you not also think that god could now, under the papacy, have preserved his own, even though the priests and monks of christendom have been teachers of the devil and gone to hell? many children and young people have died in christ. for even under the anti-christ, christ has strongly sustained baptism, the bare text of the gospel in the pulpit, the lord's prayer, and the creed. by this means he sustained many of his christians, and therefore also his christendom, and said nothing about it to these devil's teachers. now even though christians have done some parts of the papal blasphemy, the papal asses have not yet proved that they did it gladly. still less does it prove that they even did the right thing. all christians can err and sin, but god has taught them to pray in the lord's prayer for the forgiveness of sins. god could very well forgive the sins they had to unwillingly, unknowingly, and under the coercion of the antichrist commit, without saying anything about it to the priests and monks! it can, however, be easily proven that there has always been a great deal of secret murmuring and complaining against the clergy throughout the world, and that they are not treating christendom properly. and the papal asses have courageously withstood such complaining with fire and sword, even to the present day. this murmuring proves how happy christians have been over these blasphemies, and how right they have been in doing them! so out with it, you papal asses! say that this is the teaching of christendom: these stinking lies which you villains and traitors have forced upon christendom and for the sake of which you murderers have killed many christians. why each letter of every papal law gives testimony to the fact that nothing has ever been taught by the counsel and the consent of christendom. there is nothing there but "districte precipiendo mandamus" ["we teach and strictly command"]. that has been your holy spirit. christendom has had to suffer this tyranny. this tyranny has robbed it of the sacrament and, not by its own fault, has been held in captivity. and still the asses would pawn off on us this intolerable tyranny of their own wickedness as a willing act and example of christendom--and thereby acquit themselves! but this is getting too long. let this be enough of an answer to your questions for now. more another time. excuse this long letter. christ our lord be with us all. amen. martin luther, your good friend. the wilderness, september , * * * * * this text was translated for project wittenberg by dr. gary mann in and was placed by him in the public domain. you may freely distribute, copy or print this text, providing the information in this statement remains attached. please direct any comments or suggestions to: rev. robert e. smith of the walther library at concordia theological seminary. e-mail: cfwlibrary@crf.cuis.edu surface mail: n. clinton st., ft. wayne, in usa phone: ( ) - fax: ( ) - transcriber's note: page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/bartholomewsastr sastiala [illustration: charles the fifth.] bartholomew sastrow being the memoirs of a german burgomaster translated by albert d. vandam. introduction by herbert a. l. fisher, m.a. _with illustrations_. london archibald constable & co ltd contents part i introduction chapter i abominable murder of my grandfather--my parents and their family--fatal misadventure of my father--troubles at stralsund--appeal of the evangelical preachers chapter ii my student's days at greifswald--victor bole and his tragical end--a servant possessed by the devil--my brother johannes' preceptors and mine--my father's never-ending law suits chapter iii showing the ingratitude, foolishness and wickedness of the people, and how, when once infected with a bad spirit, it returns with difficulty to common-sense--smiterlow, lorbeer, and the duke of mecklenberg--fall of the seditious regime of the forty-eight chapter iv dr. martin luther writes to my father--my studies at rostock and at greifswald--something about my hard life at spires--i am admitted as a public notary--dr. hose chapter v stay at pforzheim--margrave ernest--my extreme penury at worms, followed by great plenty at a receiver's of the order of st. john's--i do not lengthen this summary, seeing that but for my respect for the truth, i would willingly pass over many episodes in silence chapter vi travels in italy--what happened to me in rome--i take steps to recover my brother's property--i become aware of some strange particulars--i suddenly leave rome chapter vii from rome to stralsund, by viterbo, florence, mantua, trent, innspruck, ratisbon and nuremberg--various adventures part ii chapter i i am appointed pomeranian secretary--something about my diurnal and nocturnal journeys with the chancellor--missions in the camps--dangers in the wake of the army chapter ii a twelve months' stay at augsburg during the diet--something about the emperor and princes--sebastian vogelsberg--concerning the interim journey to cologne chapter iii how i held for two years the office of _solicitator_ at the imperial chamber at spires--visit to herr sebastian münster--journey to flanders--character of king philip--i leave the prince's service part iii chapter i arrival at greifswald--betrothal and marriage--an old custom--i am in peril--martin weyer, bishop chapter ii severe difficulties after my marriage--my labours and success as a law-writer and notary, and subsequently as a procurator--an account of some of the cases in which i was engaged chapter iii the greifswald council appoints me the city's secretary--delicate mission to stralsund--burgomaster christopher lorbeer and his sons--journey to bergen--i settle at stralsund illustrations charles the fifth _frontispiece_ martin luther stettin, wittenberg, spires the diet of augsburg an execution at the time of the reformation ferdinand the first melanchthon view of stralsund introduction if we wish to understand the pedestrian side of german life in the sixteenth century, i know of no better document than the autobiography of bartholomew sastrow. this hard-headed, plain-spoken pomeranian notary cannot indeed be classed among the great and companionable writers of memoirs. here are no genial portraits, no sweet-tempered and mellow confidings of the heart such as comfortable men and women are wont to distil in a comfortable age. the times were fierce, and passion ran high and deep. one might as well expect to extract amiability from the rough granite of an icelandic saga. there is no delicacy, no charm, no elevation of tone in these memoirs. everything is seen through plain glass, but seen distinctly in hard and fine outlines, and reported with an objectivity which would be consistently scientific, were it not for some quick touches of caustic humour, and the stored hatreds of an active, unpopular and struggling life. nobody very readily sympathizes with bitter or with prosperous men, and when this old gentleman took up his pen to write, he had become both prosperous and bitter. he had always been a hard hitter, and at the age of seventy-five set himself down to compose a fighting apologia. if the ethics are those of mr. tulliver, senior, we must not be surprised. is not the blood-feud one of the oldest of teutonic institutions? i frankly confess that i do not find mr. bartholomew sastrow very congenial company, though i am ready to acknowledge that he had some conspicuous merits. many good men have been naughty boys at school, and it is possible that even distinguished philanthropists have tippled brandy while orbilius was nodding. if so, an episode detailed in these memoirs may be passed over by the lenient reader, all the more readily since the sastrovian oats do not appear to have been very wildly or copiously sown. it is clear that the young man fought poverty with pluck and tenacity. he certainly had a full measure of teutonic industry, and it argues no little character in a man past thirty years of age to attend the lectures of university professors in order to repair the defects of an early education. i also suspect that any litigant who retained sastrow's services would have been more than satisfied with this swift and able transactor of business, who appears to have had all the combativeness of bishop burnet, with none of his indiscretion. he was just the kind of man who always rows his full weight and more than his weight in a boat. but, save for his vigorous hates, he was a prosaic fellow, given to self-gratulation, who never knew romance, and married his housemaid at the age of seventy-eight. a modern german writer is much melted by sastrow's protestantism, and apparently finds it quite a touching spectacle. sastrow was of course a lutheran, and believed in devils as fervently as his great master. he also conceived it to be part of the general scheme of things that the sastrows and their kinsmen, the smiterlows, should wax fat and prosper, while all the plagues of egypt and all the afflictions of job should visit those fiends incarnate, the horns, the brusers and the lorbeers. for some reason, which to me is inscrutable, but which was as plain as sunlight to sastrow, a superhuman apparition goes out of its way to help a young pomeranian scribe, who upon his own showing is anything but a saint, while the innocent maidservant of a miser is blown up with six other persons no less blameless than herself, to enforce the desirability of being free with one's money. this, however, is the usual way in which an egoist digests the popular religion. bartholomew sastrow was born at greifswald, a prosperous hanseatic town, in . the year of his birth is famous in the history of german protestantism, for it witnessed the publication of luther's three great reformation tracts--the _appeal to the christian nobility of the german nation_, the _babylonish captivity_, and the _freedom of a christian man_. it seemed in that year as if the whole of germany might be brought to make common cause against the pope. the clergy, the nobility, the towns, the peasants all had their separate cause of quarrel with the old régime, and to each of these classes in turn luther addressed his powerful appeal. for a moment puritan and humanist were at one, and the printing presses of germany turned out a stream of literature against the abuses of the papal system. the movement spread so swiftly, especially in the north, that it seemed a single spontaneous popular outburst. but the harmony was soon broken. the rifts in the political and social organization of germany were too deep to be spanned by any appeal to merely moral considerations. the emperor charles v, himself half-spanish, set his face against a movement which was directly antagonistic to the imperial tradition. the peasants revolted, committed excesses, and were ruthlessly crushed, and the violence of anabaptists and ignorant men threw discredit on the lutheran cause. then, too, dogmatic differences began to reveal themselves within the circle of the reformers themselves. there were disputes as to the exact significance and philosophic explanation of the lord's supper. a conference was held at marburg, in , under the auspices of philip of hesse, with a view to adjusting the differences between the divines of saxony and switzerland, but luther and zwingli failed to arrive at a compromise. the lutheran and the reformed churches now definitely separated, and the divisions of the protestants were the opportunity of the catholic church. the emperor tried in vain to reconcile germany to the old faith. rival theologians met, disputed, formulated creeds in the presence of temporal princes and their armed retainers. in the diet of augsburg forbade protestant teaching and ordered the restoration of church property. then a protestant league was signed at smalkald by john of saxony, by hesse, brunswick-luneberg, anhalt, and several towns, and the emperor was defied. this was in . it was the beginning of the religious wars of germany, the beginning of that tremendous duel which lasted till the peace of westphalia in , the duel between the league of smalkald and charles v, between gustavus adolphus and wallenstein, between the protestant north and the catholic south. in the initial stage of this combat the great military event was the rout of the smalkaldic allies at muhlberg, in april, , where charles captured john frederic of saxony, transferred his dominions--save only a few scattered territories in thuringia--to his ally, maurice, and reduced all north germany save the city of magdeburg. it seemed for a moment as if this battle might decide the contest. charles summoned a diet at augsburg in , and carried all his proposals without opposition. he strengthened his political position by the reconstitution of the imperial chamber, by the organization of the netherlands into a circle of the empire, and by the formation of a new military treasury. he obtained the consent of the diet to a religious compromise called the interim which, while insisting on the seven sacraments in the catholic sense, vaguely agreed to the lutheran doctrine of justification by faith, and declared that the two questions of the communion in both kinds and the celibacy of clergy were to be left till the summoning of a free christian council. the strict lutheran party--and pomerania was a stronghold of strict lutheranism--regarded the interim as a base betrayal of protestant interests. their pamphleteers called it the _interitum_, or the death-blow, and the conversion of a prince like joachim of brandenburg to such a scheme was regarded as an ominous sign for the future. in reality, however, the success of the emperor rested upon the most brittle foundations. that he was chilly, reserved, un-german, and therefore unpopular was something, but not nearly all. the princes of germany had conquered practical independence in the thirteenth century, and were jealous of their prerogatives. the hanseatic towns formed a republican confederacy in the north, corresponding to the swiss confederacy in the south. there was no adequate central machinery, and the jesuit order was only just preparing to enter upon its career of german victories. the spanish troops made themselves detestable, outraging women--a dire offence in a nation so domestic as germany--and there was standing feud between the famous castilian infantry and the german lansquenets. the popes did not like the emperor's favourite remedy of a council, and busily thwarted his ecclesiastical schemes. henry ii of france was on the watch for german allies against a powerful rival. the allies were ready. a great spiritual movement can never be stifled by the issue of one battle. for good or evil, men had taken sides; interests intellectual, moral, and material had already been invested either in the one cause or the other; there had been brutal iconoclasm; there had been ardent preaching, so simple and moving that ignorant women understood and wept; there had been close and stubborn dogmatic controversy; there had been the shedding of blood, and the upheavals in towns, and the building of a new church system, and the growth of a new religious literature. almost a whole generation had now been consumed in this controversy, a controversy which touched all lives, and cemented or divided families. the children were reading luther's bible, and singing luther's hymns, and learning luther's short catechism. could it be expected that such a river should suddenly lose itself in the sand? nevertheless there is something surprising in the quick revolution of the story. in maurice of saxony intrigues with the protestants, and in the following year definitely goes over to their side. in the emperor has to flee for his life, and the peace of passau seals the victory of the protestant cause. one of the first provinces to be conquered for lutheranism was the duchy of pomerania. john bugenhagen, himself a pomeranian and the historian of pomerania, was the chief apostle of this northern region, and those who visit the baltic churches will often see his sable portrait hanging side by side with huss and luther on the whitewashed walls. sastrow gives us an excellent picture of the various forces which co-operated with the teaching of bugenhagen to effect the change. in eastern pomerania there was the violent propaganda of dr. amandus, who wanted a clean sweep of images, princes, and established powers. there was the democratic movement in stralsund, led by the turbulent rolof moller, who, accusing the council of malversation, revolutionized the constitution of his city. there was the mob of workmen who were only too glad of an excuse to plunder the priests and break the altars. but side by side with greed and violence there was the moral revolt against "the fables, the absurdities, and the impious lies" of the pulpit, and against the vices of priest and monk. the recollection of the early days of puritan enthusiasm, when the fathers of the protestant movement preached the gospel to large crowds in the open air, as, for instance, under "st. george's churchyard elm" at stralsund, remained graven on many a lowly calendar. even the texts of these sermons were remembered as epochs in spiritual life. sastrow records how, ceding to the request of a great number of burgesses, mr. ketelhot (being detained in the port of stralsund by contrary winds), preached upon matthew xi. : "come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and i will give you rest"; and then upon john xvi. : "verily, verily, i say unto you, whatsoever ye shall ask the father in my name, he will give it you"; and, finally: "go ye therefore and teach all nations." the general pride in civic monuments proved to be stronger than the iconoclastic mood. certainly the high altar in the nicolai kirche at stralsund--probably the most elaborate specimen of late fifteenth-century wood carving which still survives in germany--would have received a short shrift from cromwell's ironsides. it was burgomaster nicholas smiterlow, of stralsund, who brought protestantism into the sastrow family. he had seen luther in , had heard him preach at wittenberg, and became a convert to the "true gospel." smiterlow's daughter anna married nicholas sastrow, a prosperous brewer and cornfactor of greifswald, and nicholas deserted the mass for the sermon. their eldest son, john, was sent to study at wittenberg, where he made the acquaintance of luther and melanchthon. he became something, of a scholar, wrote in praise of the english divine, robert barns, and was crowned poet laureate by charles v in . the second son was bartholomew, author of these memoirs. three years after his arrival the family life at greifswald was rudely disturbed. bartholomew's father had the misfortune to commit manslaughter (uncharitable people called it murder), and greifswald was made too hot to hold the peccant cornfactor. the father of our chronicler lived in banishment for several years, while his wife brought up the children at greifswald, and carried on the family business. it happened that bartholomew's great-uncle, burgomaster nicholas smiterlow the second, of stralsund, was at that time residing at greifswald. he possessed the avuncular virtues, had his great-nephew taught latin, and earned his eternal gratitude. in time the heirs of the slain man were appeased and , marks of blood-money enabled the elder sastrow to return to his native city. he did not, however, remain long in greifswald, but sold his house and settled in the neighbouring city of stralsund, the home of his wife's relations. bartholomew received his early education at greifswald and stralsund, but in was sent to rostock (a university had been founded in this town in ), where he studied under two well-known pupils of luther and melanchthon, burenius and heinrich welfius (wulf). the teaching combined the chief elements of humanism and of protestant theology, the works of cicero and terence on the one hand, and the _de anima_ of melanchthon on the other. meanwhile ( - ) there were great disturbances in stralsund. an ambitious demagogue of lubeck, george wullenweber, had involved the hanseatic league in a danish war. smiterlow and nicolas sastrow thought that the war was wrong and foolish, and that it would endanger the interests of stralsund. but a democracy, when once bitten by the war frenzy, is hard to curb, and regards moderation in the light of treason. stralsund rose against its conservative council, forced smiterlow to resign and compelled the elder sastrow to remain a prisoner in his house for the period of a year. father and son never forgot or forgave these years of plebeian uproar. for them the art of statesmanship was to avoid revolution and to keep the people under. "i recommend to my children submission to authority, no matter whether pilate or caiaphas governs." this was the last word of bartholomew's political philosophy. in - the forces of the hanse were defeated both by land and sea, and the war party saw the error of its ways. sastrow was released, and his uncle-in-law was restored to office to die two years later, in . but meanwhile things had gone ill with the sastrow finances. some skilful but dishonest ladies had purchased large consignments of cloth, not to speak of borrowing considerable sums of money from nicholas sastrow, and declined to pay their bill. during his imprisonment nicholas had been unable to sell the stock of salt which he had laid in with a view to the schonen herring season. a certain mrs. bruser, wife of a big draper, with a hardy conscience, had bought , florins' worth of the sastrow cloth of the dishonest ladies. the sastrows determined to get the money out of the brusers. bruser first avowed the debt, and then repudiated it, taking a mean advantage of the civic troubles of stralsund and the decline of the smiterlow-sastrow interest. thereupon began litigation which was not to cease for thirty-four years. the case was heard before the town court of stralsund, then before the council of stralsund, then before the _oberhof_ or appellate court of lubeck, and finally before the imperial court of spires. bartholomew accompanied his father on the lubeck journey, obtained his first insight into legal chicanery, and was, no doubt, effectually inoculated with the anti-bruser virus. in the elder sastrow obtained permission to return to greifswald, and bartholomew attended for a year the lectures of the greifswald professors. the family circumstances, however (there were by this time five daughters and three sons), were too straitened to support the youth in idleness. accordingly, in june, , the two eldest sons left their home, partly to seek their fortunes, but more especially to watch the great bruser case, which was winding its slow and slippery course through the reticulations of the imperial court at spires. there is no need to anticipate the lively narrative of bartholomew's experiences in this home of litigation long-drawn-out. the reader will, however, note that he was lucky enough to come in for a diet, and has an excellent story to tell of how the emperor was inadvertently horsewhipped by a swabian carter. on may , , sastrow received the diploma of imperial notary, and a month later he left spires and entered the chancellerie of margrave ernest of baden, at pforzheim. this, however, was destined to prove but a brief interlude. in the summer of sastrow is in the service of a receiver of the order of st. john, christopher von löwenstein, who, after his turkish wars, was living a frolicsome old age among his frisian stallions, his huntsmen and his hounds. the picture of this frivolous old person, with his dwarf, his mistress, and his chaplain, is drawn with some spirit. sastrow, who had so long felt the pinch of poverty, was now luxuriating in good fare and fine raiment. he has little to do, plenty to eat and drink, and his festivity was untempered by moral considerations. "do not think to become a doctor in my house," said the genial host, and it must be confessed that the surroundings were not propitious to the study of the institutes. the news of john sastrow's death put an end to this jollity. the poet laureate had been crossed in love, and sought oblivion in italy. the panegyrist of barns entered the service of a cardinal, and died at acquapendente, without explaining theological inconsistencies, pardonable perhaps in lovelorn poets. bartholomew determined to recover the property of his deceased brother, and set out for italy on april , . he walked to venice over the brenner, thence took ship to ancona, and then travelled over the apennines to rome, by way of loretto. the council was sitting at trent, but theological gossip does not interest our traveller so much as the alto voices in the church choirs, and "the tomb of the infant simeon, the innocent victim of the jews." nor is he qualified to play the rôle of intelligent tourist among the antiquities and art treasures of italy. he was not a benvenuto cellini, still less a nathaniel hawthorne, bent on instructing the philistine in the art of cultured enthusiasm. "a magnificent palace, a church all of marble, variously tinted and assorted with perfect art, twelve lions and lionesses, two tigers and an eagle that is all i remember of florence." many modern tourists may not remember as much without sastrow's excuses. italy was by this time by no means a safe place for a german. paul iii was recruiting mercenaries to help the emperor to fight the league of smalkald, and the spanish inquisition was industriously raging in rome. it was sufficient to be a german to be suspected of heresy, and for the heretic, the pyre and the gibbet were ready prepared. it would be difficult to conceive a moment less propitious for aesthetic enjoyment. "not a week without a hanging," says sastrow, who was apparently careful to attend these lugubrious ceremonies. the excellence of the roman wine increased the risk of an indiscretion, and by july sastrow had determined that it would be well to extricate himself from the perils of rome. his reminiscences of the papal capital are vivid and curious. we seem to see the cardinal sweating in his shirt sleeves under the hot italian sun, while his floor is being watered. heavy-eyed oxen of the campagna are dragging stone and marble through the streets to build the farnese palace and splendid houses for the cardinals; the whole town is a tumult of building and unbuilding. streets are destroyed to improve a view. if one of the effects of a celibate clergy is to promote immorality, another is to improve the cuisine of the taverns. upon both topics sastrow is eloquent, and there are too many confirmations from other quarters to permit us to doubt the substantial accuracy of his indictment. by august , , sastrow was back at stralsund. through the good offices of dr. knipstrow, the general superintendent, he secured a post in the ducal chancellerie at wolgast. his acuteness and industry obtained the respect of the pomeranian chancellor, james citzewitz, and he was given the most important business to transact. on march , , he accompanied the ducal chancellors in the character of notary on a mission to the emperor. ten years before the dukes of pomerania had joined the league of smalkald, and they were now thoroughly alarmed at the imperial victory at muhlberg, and anxious to make their peace with charles. the journey of the envoys is full of historical interest. sastrow had to cross the field of muhlberg and received ocular assurance of the horrors of the war and of the barbarities practised by the spanish troops. he was a spectator of the humiliation of the landgrave philip of hesse, at halle, and to his narrative alone we owe the knowledge of the ironical laugh of the prince, and the angry threat of the emperor. from halle the pomeranian envoys followed charles to augsburg, having the good fortune to fall in with the drunken but scriptural duke frederick iii of liegnitz, of whose wild doings sastrow can tell some surprising tales. it must have been an astonishing experience, this life at augsburg, while the diet was sitting. the gravest theological and political problems, problems affecting the destiny of the empire, were being handled in an atmosphere of unabashed debauchery and barbarism. every one, layman and clerk, let himself go. joachim of brandenburg consented to the interim for a bribe, and the cardinal granvelle, like talleyrand afterwards, was able to build up an enormous fortune out of "the sins of germany." in the midst of the coarse revels of the town the horrid work of the executioner was everywhere manifest. and, meanwhile, the grim emperor dines silently in public, seeming to convey a sullen rebuke to the garrulous hospitality of his brother ferdinand, and to the loose morals of the princes. the cause of the pomeranian mission did not much prosper at augsburg, and sastrow and his friends pursued the emperor to brussels, where they were at last able to effect the desired reconciliation. for the services rendered on this occasion sastrow was made the pomeranian solicitor at the court of spires. the second spires residence was clearly a period of honourable and not ungainful activity. sastrow is busy with ducal cases; he makes another journey to the netherlands in order to present cardinal granvelle with some golden flagons, and has occasion to admire the treasures of the great flemish cities. the seagirt stralsund, with its thin gusty streets, high gables, red gothic gateways and tall austere whitewashed churches could not, of course, show the ample splendours of brussels or antwerp. then, too, upon this flemish voyage he saw king philip and was impressed by the young man's stupid face and stiff spanish formality. such a contrast to his father charles! again he was sent on a mission to basle, carrying information about pomerania to sebastian munster, the "german strabo," as he loved to hear himself called, that it might be incorporated in that learned scholar's universal cosmography. in , however, sastrow became aware that his position was being undermined by the councillors at stettin. he accordingly gave up his ducal appointment, and determined to confine himself to private practice. he marries a wife (january , ), settles at greifswald, and builds up a prosperous business, and from this date his memoirs are mostly concerned with the cases in which he was engaged. there is yet one more change of place and occupation to be noticed in this bustling life. in sastrow was enticed to stralsund by the offer of the post of secretary, and for the next eight-and-forty years, till his death in , he lived in that town, battling in the full stream of municipal politics, councillor in , burgomaster in , and frequently chosen to represent the city on embassies and other ceremonial occasions. a _rubricken bock_, or collection of municipal diplomata testifies to another branch of his useful activities. enemies were as plentiful as gooseberries, and he never wanted for litigation. his second marriage created a scandal, and furnished an occasion for the foeman to scoff. but the choleric old gentleman was fully capable of taking care of himself. "at stralsund," he says, "i fell full into the infernal caldron, and i have roasted there for forty years." but he took good heed that the enemy should roast likewise, and at the age of seventy-five began to lay the fire. the first two parts of the memoirs were composed in , the third at the end of , doubtless on the basis of some previous diary. they were composed for the benefit of his children, that they might enjoy the roasting. we too now can look on while the flames crackle. herbert a. l. fisher. new college, oxford. part i chapter i abominable murder of my grandfather--my parents and their family--fatal misadventure of my father--troubles at stralsund--appeal of the evangelical preachers my father was born in , in the village of rantzin, in the inn close to the cemetery, on the road to anclam. even before his marriage, my grandfather, johannes sastrow, exceeded by far in worldly goods, reputation, power and understanding, the horns, a family established at rantzin. hence, those horns, frantic with jealousy, constantly attacked him, not only with regard to his property, but also in the consideration he enjoyed among his fellow-men; they did not scruple to attempt his life. not daring to act openly, they incited one of their labourers to go drinking to the inn, to pick a quarrel with its host, and to fall upon him. their inheritance, in fact, was so small that they only needed one ploughmaster. what was the upshot? my grandfather, who was on his guard, got wind of the affair, and took the offensive. the emissary had such a cordial reception as to be compelled to beat a retreat "on all fours," and even this was not accomplished without difficulty. the enmity of the horns obliged my grandfather to look to his security. about the year , in virtue of a friendly agreement with the old overlord johannes osten von quilow, he redeemed his vassalage (lastage), and acquired the citizenship of greifswald, where he bought a dwelling at the angle of the butchers' street. thither he gradually transferred his household goods. johannes sastrow, therefore, left the ostens and became a citizen before my father's birth. the infamous attempt occurred in this way. in , there was a christening not far from rantzin, namely at gribon, where there lived a horn. in his capacity of a near relative my grandfather received an invitation, and as the distance was short, he took my father, who was then about seven, with him. the horns took advantage of the opportunity; on the pretext of paying a visit to their cousin, they repaired to gribon. they had come down in the world, and they no longer minded either the company or the fare of the peasantry; consequently, during the meal that followed they sat down at the same table with my grandfather. when they had drunk their fill towards nightfall, they all got up together to have a look at the stables. they fancied they were among themselves; as it happened one of our relatives was hiding in a corner, and heard them discuss matters. they intended to watch sastrow's going, to gallop after him and intercept him on the road, and to kill him and his child. my grandfather, having been warned, immediately took the advice not to delay his departure for a moment. taking his son by the hand, he started there and then. alas, the atrocious murderers who were lying in wait for him in a clearing, trampled him under their horses' hoofs, inflicted ever so many wounds; then, their rage not being spent, they dragged him to a large stone on the road, and which may be seen unto this day, chopped off his right hand at the wrist, and left him for dead on the spot. the child had crept into some damp underwood, inaccessible to horses; the fast gathering darkness saved him from being pursued. the labourers on the horn farm, driven by curiosity, had mounted their cattle; they picked up the victim, and pulled the child from his hiding place. one of them galloped to rantzin, whence he returned with a cart on which they laid the wounded man, who scarcely gave a sign of life, and, in fact, breathed his last at the entrance to the village. the nearest relatives realized the inheritance of the orphan, sold the house, the proceeds of the whole amounting to , florins.[ ] lords who allow their vassals to amass similar sums are rare nowadays. the child was brought up carefully; he was taught to read, to write and to cipher, afterwards he was sent to antwerp and to amsterdam to get a knowledge of business. when he was old enough to manage his own affairs, he bought the angle of long street and of huns' street, on the right, towards st. nicholas' church, that is, two dwelling houses and two shops in huns' street.[ ] one of these houses he made his residence; the other he converted into a brewery, and on the site of the shops he built the present front entrance. all this cost a great deal of trouble and money. he was an attractive young fellow with an assured bit of bread, so he had no difficulty in obtaining the hand of the daughter of the late bartholomäi smiterlow, and the niece of nicholas smiterlow, the burgomaster of stralsund.[ ] young and pretty, rather short than tall, but with exquisitely shaped limbs, amiable, clever, unpretending, an excellent managers, and exceedingly careful in her conduct, my mother unto her last hour was an honest and god-fearing woman. my father's register shows that the marriage took place in , the sunday after st. catherine's day; the husband, as i often heard him say, was still short of five and twenty. at the fast just before advent, in , providence granted the young couple a son who was named johannes, after his paternal grandfather; he died in , at aquapendente, in italy. in , _in vigilia nativitatis mariae_, my sister anna was born; she died on august , , at the age of seventy-seven; she was the widow of peter frobose, burgomaster of greifswald. on tuesday, august , , at six in the morning, i came into the world and was named bartholomäi, after my maternal grandfather. i leave to my descendants the task of recording my demise, to which i am looking forward anxiously in my seventy-fifth winter. the year witnessed the birth of my sister catherine, a charming, handsome creature, amiable, loyal and pious. when my brother johannes returned from the university of wittemberg, she asked him what was the latin for "this is certainly a good-looking girl?" "profecto formosa puella," was the answer. "and how do they say, 'yes, not bad?'" was the next question. "sic satis," replied johannes. some time after that, three students from wittemberg, young fellows of good family, stopped for a short while in our town, and christian smiterlow asked his father, the burgomaster, to let them stay with him. the burgomaster, who had three grown-up daughters, invited my sister catherine. naturally, the young people talked to and chaffed each other, and the lads themselves made some remarks in latin, which would, perhaps, have not sounded well in german to female ears. one of them happened to exclaim: "profecto formosa puella!" "sic satis!" retorted catherine, and thereupon the students became afraid that she had understood the whole of their lively comments. in catherine married christopher meyer, an only son, but an illiterate, dissipated, lazy and drunken oaf, who spent all his substance, and ruined a servant girl while my sister was in childbed. god punished him for his misdeeds by bringing abject misery and a loathsome disease upon him, but catherine died at twenty-six, weary of life. my sister magdalen was born in ; she died a single woman at twenty-two. these five children were born to my parents in greifswald; the last three saw the light at stralsund; namely, in , christian, who lived till he was sixty; in , barbara, who only reached eighteen; and in , gertrude. from their very earliest age my sisters were taught by my mother the household and other work appropriate to their sex. one day while gertrude, who was then about five, was plying her distaff--the spinning wheel was not known then--my brother johannes announced the news that the emperor, the king of the romans, the electors, the princes and counts, in short all the great nobles, were to foregather at a diet. "what for?" asked gertrude. "to look to the proper government of the world," was the answer. "good lord," sighed the child, "why don't they forbid little girls to spin." the pest of took away my mother, gertrude, magdalen and catherine. as her daughters were weeping bitterly my mother said: "why do you weep? rather ask the lord to shorten my sufferings." she died on july . on the th it was gertrude's turn. magdalen was also dying; she left her bed to get her own shroud and that of gertrude out of the linen press, and bade me be careful to fling only a little earth on her sister's grave, because she herself would soon be put into it; after which she returned to her bed and expired on july , the morning after gertrude's burial. magdalen was the tallest and most robust of my sisters, an accomplished manageress, hardworking, and her head screwed tightly on her shoulders. catherine sent me all this news on september , two days before her own death of the plague. she did not try to disguise her approaching end; on the contrary, she prayed fervently for it, and bade me be resigned to it. she had had two children by her worthless husband; i undertook the care of the boy, christopher meyer, and my sister frobose at greifswald mothered the girl, who was but scantily provided for. christopher gave me much trouble; neither remonstrance nor punishment proved of any avail; when he grew up he would not settle down, and practically followed in the footsteps of his father, yielding to dissipation, and indulging in all kinds of vice. nevertheless, i made him contract a good marriage which gave him a kind of position. he left two sons; the elder was placed by his guardians at dantzig, with most respectable people, who, however, declined to keep him. the younger remained with me for two years, going to school meanwhile, and causing me greater trouble than was consistent with my advanced age. but i had hoped to do some good with him; alas! he was so bent upon following his father's example as to make me rejoice getting rid of the cub. my sister barbara had been sent to greifswald; when the plague abated, my father recalled her, for he was old, wretched and bowed down with care. barbara was only fifteen, very pretty, amiable and hardworking. she married bernard classen, then a widower for the second time. my father did not like this son-in-law, against whom he had acted in the law courts for the other side; but classen was not to be shaken off, and finally obtained my father's consent. the wedding took place on st. martin's day (november ), . on my return from spires, i paid a visit to the young couple; my brother-in-law showed me the window of his study ornamented with my monogram and name, taking care to mention that he had paid a stralsund mark to the glazier; i loosened my purse-strings and counted the sum to him, but the proceeding did not commend itself to me after the protestations of friendship my father had conveyed to me from classen's part.[ ] in , at the diet of worms, where doctor martin luther so courageously made his confession of faith, duke bagislaw x, the grandfather of the two dukes at present reigning, received from his imperial majesty charles v the solemn investiture under the open sky and with the standards unfurled, to the great displeasure of the elector of brandenburg. the imperial councillors were instructed to bring the two competitors to an agreement at nuremberg, or to refer the matter further to his majesty in case of the failure of negotiations. in occurred the disturbances in connexion with rolof moller, a young man of about thirty, if that. his grandfather had been burgomaster, and in consequence he had detained in his possession a register of the revenues and privileges of the city. having summoned a number of citizens to the monastery of st. john, he tried to prove by means of said register the enormous revenues of the city, and to accuse the council of malversation; after which he invaded the town hall, took the councillors to task, and treated them all like so many thieves, including one of his own relatives, herr schroeder, whom he reproached with being small in stature, but big in scoundrelism. burgomaster zabel oseborn indignantly denied the accusation, and worked himself into such a state of excitement that he had to be conveyed home. in consequence of these slanders moller constituted himself a following among the burghers; his numerous adherents chose forty-eight of their own (double the number of the members of the council), to exercise the chief power; the council saw its influence annulled, an act defining the limits of its competence and rules for its conduct was presented for signature to the councillors, and they were furthermore required to take the oath. herr nicholas smiterlow alone resisted; hence, during the whole period of their domination, namely up to , the forty-eight made him pay for his courage by unheard-of persecutions. the primary cause of this agitation, so disastrous to the city, was the absence of a permanent record-office. the burgomasters, or the secretary, took the secret papers home with them[ ]; at the magistrate's death those documents passed to the children and grandchildren, then fell into the hands of strangers; and the natural result were indiscreet revelations hurtful to the public weal. johannes bugenhagen, the pomeranian, and rector of the school of treptow on the rega, converted several monks of the monastery of belbuck to the pure faith. they left the monastery. among them should be mentioned herr christian ketelhot, herr johannes kurcke, and herr george von ukermünde, whom the stralsund people chose as their preacher. but when, after three sermons at st. nicholas', he saw the citizens resolved to keep him, in spite of the council who forbade him the pulpit, when he saw the papist clergy increase their threats, and the dukes expel ketelhot and kurcke from treptow, he was siezed with fear and went away in secret.[ ] johannes kurcke was about to set sail for livonia, intending to engage in commerce there, when he was detained at stralsund to preach, in the first place in the st. george's cemetery, then at the cloister of st. catherine, and finally at st. nicholas'. he died in , and was buried at st. george's. ketelhot had been prior of the monastery of belbuck during sixteen weeks. at the instigation of the abbot johannes boldewan, the same who had given him the prior's hood, he left for the living of stolpe, and preached the gospel there for some time. the slanders of the priests induced the prince to prohibit him. in vain did he claim the right to justify himself by word of mouth and in writing before the sovereign, the prelates, the lords and the cities. he failed to obtain a hearing or even a safe-conduct. as a consequence he went to mecklenburg, intending to adopt a trade; but unable to find a suitable master, he came to stralsund determined to take ship for livonia. contrary winds kept him for several weeks in port; this gave him the opportunity of hearing the fables, absurdities and impious lies delivered from the pulpit; he beheld the misconduct of the priests, their debauchery, drunkenness, gluttony, fornication, adultery and worse. acceding to the wish of a great number of burghers, and the church of st. george's being too small to hold the crowd, he preached on the sunday before ascension day under the great lime tree of the cemetery. he first took for his text matthew xi. : "come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and i will give you rest"; then john xvi. : "verily, verily, i say unto you, whatsoever ye shall ask the father in my name, he will give it you"; and finally: "go ye therefore and teach all nations." in spite of the opposition of the council, which felt inclined to yield to the frantic protestation of the clergy, the burghers practically forced ketelhot to come into the city, and made him preach at st. nicholas'. in , duke bogislaw, accompanied by four hundred horsemen, proceeded to nuremberg to settle his disagreement with the elector of brandenburg. among his suite were burgomaster nicholas smiterlow and his son christian. the lad, lively and strong for his age, made his horse curvet and prance, so that it threw him and crushed him with all its weight. young smiterlow was deformed all his life; but when it became evident that there was no remedy, his father sent him to the university of wittemberg; but for the accident he would have placed him in business at lubeck. on his way home duke bogislaw stopped at wittemberg to see luther, the turbulent monk. before they had exchanged many words, the prince in a jocular tone said: "master doctor, you had better let me confess to you." luther, however, replied very quickly: "no, no, gracious lord! your highness is too exalted a penitent, and i am too lowly to give him absolution." luther was thinking of the august birth of his interlocutor, who, moreover, was exceedingly tall of stature, but the duke took the reply as an allusion to the gravity of his backslidings, and dismissed luther without inviting him to his table. during the absence of duke bogislaw, the images were destroyed at stralsund as i am going to narrate. on monday of holy week, , frau schermer sent her servant to st. nicholas' for a box containing relics which she wished to have repaired.[ ] some workmen, noticing that a sacred object was being taken away, began to knock down everything; their constantly increasing numbers ran riot in the churches and in the convents; the altars were overtoppled, and the images thrown to the four winds. with the exception of the custodian of st. john's, monks and priests fled from the city. thereupon the council issued an order that everybody had to bring back his loot on the following wednesday to the old market. the burghers only obeyed reluctantly; they only restored the wooden images, but the more valuable ones were not to be found. two women were brought before the council; the woman bandelwitz deliberately defied the burgomaster, looked him straight into the face and addressed him as follows: "what dost thou want with me, johannes heye? why hast thou summoned me before thee? what crime have i committed?" "thou shalt know very soon," replied the burgomaster, and had her put under lock and key. the same fate befell the other woman. in the market place the partisans of the old doctrines had taken to arms and were much excited, while the evangelists loudly expressed their indignation at this double incarceration. bailiff (or sheriff) schroeder made his appearance on horseback, and showed with a kind of affectation a communion cup he had confiscated, and swore to "do" for all the evangelicals. leaping on to a fishmonger's bench, l. vischer cried in a thundering voice: "rally to me all those who wish to live and die for the gospel."[ ] the greater number rallied to his side. from the windows of the town house the councillors had been watching the scene, and they began to fear for their personal safety when they should wish to go home. rolof moller went upstairs to make the situation clear to them; the two women were discharged after an imprisonment of less than an hour, and the council asked the burghers to let the matter rest there, professing their goodwill towards them; but the crowd, slow to abate its anger, occupied the place up to four o'clock, after which the councillors could make their way without danger. when duke bogislaw returned, the stralsund council endeavoured to persuade his highness that the destruction of the images had taken place in spite of them. in his great anger the prince would not hear of any justification; he accused the people of stralsund of having failed in their duty towards religion as well as against the sovereign who was the patron of the city's churches. he added that the devil would bring them to account for it. the duke died on september of the same year at stettin, leaving two sons, george and barnim.[ ] the disturbances, nevertheless, continued, for the burghers saw with displeasure that the council, following the example of princes george and barnim, persisted in popish practices, thereby delaying the progress of evangelism. on the monday of st. john, , rolof moller, at the head of a big troop of men, made his appearance in the old market place and, mounted also on a fishmonger's stall, began addressing the people, who applauded him. the dissensions between the magistrates and the burghers became more accentuated every day, and plainly foretold the ruin of public business. moller observed no measure in his attacks on the council. he was just about thirty, clever, and, with an attractive personality, he might count upon being sooner or later elected burgomaster. it was only a question of time. his presumption blinded him to the reality; intoxicated with popular favour, he allowed himself certain excesses against the council, took his flight before his wings had grown, and dragged a number of people down with him in his fall. the city itself did not recover from the effects of all this for close upon a century. burgomaster nicholas smiterlow, a personage of great consideration, a clever spokesman, and of a firm and generous disposition, was a member of the council for seventeen years. duke bogislaw, who fully appreciated his work, took him to the conference at nuremberg. the journey enabled the burgomaster to hear the gospel preached in its purity, and to become aware of the fatal error of papism. at wittemberg he heard luther preach. as a consequence, he was the first to proclaim the wholesome doctrine in open council, though the opposition of that body prevented him from supporting the propagators of the true faith when they kept within reasonable limits. he interposed between the council, the princes, and the exalted personages of the land, who were still wedded to papism, and rolof moller, the forty-eight, and their adherents who wished to carry things with too high a hand. smiterlow told the council to show themselves less unbending with the burghers in all just and reasonable things. on the other hand, he exhorted the citizens to show more deference to the magistrates, giving the former the assurance that the preachers should not be molested, and that the gospel should not be hampered in its course. unfortunately, his efforts failed on both sides. then the crisis occurred. the ringleaders--among the most turbulent, franz wessel, l. vischer, bartholomäi buchow, hermann meyer and nicholas rode lifted rolof moller from his fishmonger's bench--took him to the town house, and made him take his seat in the burgomaster's chair.[ ] the council was compelled to accept rolof and christopher lorbeer as burgomasters, and eight of the citizens as councillors. in order to save their heads, the magistrates found themselves compelled to share with their sworn enemies both the small bench of the four burgomasters and the larger bench of twenty-four councillors. as for smiterlow, his was the fate of those who interfere between two contending parties, the peacemakers invariably coming to grief like the iron between the anvil and the hammer. when rolof moller entered the burgomaster's pew smiterlow left it, and inasmuch as his consummate experience foretold him of his danger he came to greifswald with his two sons to ask my mother's hospitality.[ ] the tolerance shown at this conjuncture by the young princes george and barnim was due to two reasons. in the first place they expected to get the upper hand of the city without much trouble after it became worn out with domestic dissensions. secondly, a band of zealots, with dr. johannes amandus at their head, scoured the country, especially eastern pomerania, inciting the people to break the images, and preaching from the pulpit the sweeping away of all refuse, princes included. in the eyes of the papists, those people and the evangelicals were but one and the same set, and as their number happened to be imposing, the princes considered it prudent to lay low. the flight of the priests and monks gave the magistrates the opportunity of listening to the preaching of christian ketelhot and his colleagues. in a short while the council's eyes were opened to the true light, and in accord with the forty-eight and the burghers themselves, they assigned the churches to the evangelical preachers; the monastery, that is, the supreme direction of all the ministers and servitors of the church being confided to ketelhot, who exercised it for twenty-three years, in fact, up to the day of his death. canons and vicars had taken the precaution to collect all the specie, valuables and title deeds, amounting to considerable sums; they entrusted to certain councillors of greifswald chests and lockers filled with chalices, rich chasubles and various holy vessels. they occasionally converted these into money and handed to the debtors certain annuities at half-price. consequently, the hospitals, churches, and pious foundations lost both their capital and their income. a long time after these events the sons of my relative, christian schwartz, dispatched to me for restitution to the council of stralsund, a sailor's locker which had stood for forty years under their father's bed. it contained velvet chasubles embroidered with silver and pearls, in addition to a couple of silver crucifixes. though their rules forbade the monks of st. john to touch coined metal, the father custodian did not scruple to carry away with him all that the convent held in clinking coin and precious objects. called to the ministry by a small group of citizens who had not given a thought to the question of his salary, ketelhot had no other resource for his daily sustenance than the city "wine cellar" and _the king arthur_.[ ] he found hospitable board and good company, but the life was detrimental to his studies. a jew with whom he flattered himself he was studying the _lingua sancta_ induced him to announce from the pulpit the _error a judaeo conceptus_. as a consequence the council promptly appointed johannes knipstro as superintendent at stralsund. he was the first that bore the title there, and ketelhot neither suffered in consideration, rank, nor benefices. he remained all his life _primarius pastor_, and his effigy at st. nicholas, facing the pulpit, is inscribed with the words: _repurgator ecclesiae sundensis_. appointed in , knipstro, by his talent and solicitude, succeeded in leading ketelhot back to the right path, for he broke for ever with the _error_. the two ministers lived in the most brotherly understanding. ketelhot was no more jealous of the superintendent than knipstro, took umbrage at the title of _primarius pastor_. they were not vainglorious, as were later on runge and kruse. gradually the dukes admitted that the evangelicals, far from making common cause with the zealots of eastern pomerania, energetically opposed them. the stralsund preachers were henceforth left in peace; they were more firmly established in their functions, and neither the council nor the citizens were any longer molested for having called them. i now beg to resume the story of my family from the year . my parents started house-keeping in the midst of plenty; they had a mill and a brewery, sold their corn, butter, honey, wool and feathers, and were even blessed with the superfluous. everything was so cheap that it seemed easy to make money. it seemed as if the golden age had returned. nevertheless, prosperity had to make room for misfortune. in the course of that year ( ), in fact, george hartmann, the son-in-law of doctor stroïentin,[ ] bought of my father a quantity of butter. a violent discussion having occurred between them, hartmann, who was on his way to burgomaster peter kirchschwanz with a short sword belonging to the latter, went instead to his mother-in-law to pour his grievances into her ears. this haughty and purse-proud woman, full of contempt for very humble folk because she happened to have married a doctor and a ducal counsellor (i omit for charity's sake some details which i shall tell my children by word of mouth), that woman, i say, presented her son-in-law with a hatchet, saying: "there, go to market with this piece of money, and buy a bit of courage." emboldened by a safe-conduct of the prince, which doctor stroïentin had got for him, hartmann fell in with my father at the top of the sporenmacher strasse. he was going to the public weigh-house to have a case of honey weighed, and he had not as much as a pocket knife wherewith to repel an assailant armed with a sword and a hatchet. he rushed into a spurmaker's shop, getting hold of a large pitchfork, but the bystanders wrenched it out of his hands; moreover, they prevented him taking refuge in the gallery. thereupon my father snatched up a long stick with an iron prod standing against the wall, and going back into the street, shouted: "let the fellow who wants to take my life come out and show himself." at these words, hartmann issued from an adjoining workshop. not satisfied with his short sword and his hatchet, he had taken a hammer from the anvil and flung it at my father, who warded it with his stick, though only partly, for my father spat blood for several days. the hatchet went the same way, and just caught my father on the shoulder. the double exploit having imbued him with the idea that the game was won, the aggressor made a rush with his bare sword, but my father spitted him on his iron-prodded pole, and hartmann dropped down dead. this is the true account of this deplorable accident. i am quite aware of the version invented by the ill-will of the others, which is to the effect that my father having found hartmann altogether disarmed behind the stove in the spurmaker's room, straightway killed him on the spot. these are vain rumours, _nugae sunt, fabulae sunt_. my father sought asylum with the "black" monks, to whom he was known. they hid him at the top of the church in a recess near the vault. in a little while doctor stroïentin, at the head of his servants and of a numerous group of followers, came to search every nook and corner of the convent. naturally, he went into the church, and the fugitive, fancying it was all over with him, was going to speak in order to prove his innocence; fortunately providence closed his lips and shut his enemies' eyes. in the middle of the night the monks smuggled him over the wall. keeping to the high road, he succeeded in reaching neuenkirchen, where a peasant's cart, sent by his father-in-law, was waiting for him. he managed to squeeze himself into a sack of fodder by the side of a sack of barley. doctor stroïentin stopped the vehicle on the road. the driver told him he was going to stralsund. "what have you got there?" asked the doctor, beating the sacks with him. "barley and my fodder," was the answer. "have not you noticed any one going in a great hurry either on horseback or on foot?" "yes; i saw a man galloping as hard as he could in the direction of horst. i may have been mistaken, but i fancy it was sastrow, of greifswald, and i was wondering why he should be scouring the highway at that hour of night." stroïentin wanted to hear no more. he turned his horse's head as fast as it would go in the direction of horst. my father reached stralsund without further trouble; the council gave him a safe-conduct, which was only a broken reed in the way of a guarantee, for he had to deal with proud, rich and powerful enemies. doctor stroïentin, his highness' counsellor, took particular advantage of the fact that hartmann enjoyed the protection of duke george. my father went from pillar to post in denmark, at lubeck, at hamburg, and other spots; finally, he appeased his suzerain by paying him a considerable sum in cash; then, after long-drawn negotiations, his father-in-law succeeded in reconciling him with his adversaries. the expiatory fine was , marks, but greifswald, where the family of the deceased resided, remained closed to him. nor did the , marks prove any benefit to the son of hartmann; the contrary has been the case. misfortune pursued him without cessation in his health, his wealth, his wife and children. at the gates of stralsund stood the monastery of st. brigitta; monks and nuns inhabited different parts. a wall divided the gardens. it was, however, by no means high enough to prove an obstacle to a nimble climber. it is the monks that did the cooking, and the dishes came to the nuns in a kind of lift large enough for one person. how the vow of chastity was observed was proved on the day of the invasion of the convent, when the skeletons, head and bones of new-born children were found everywhere. at the period of the invasion of the churches and the monasteries, franz wessel, who at that time had discharged the functions of councillor for more than a twelvemonth, was charged with preventing at st. catherine's the abstraction of precious objects. in order to cut short the idolatrous practices, he had a trench dug at the door of the garden of eighteen ells long, in which the images were buried. on the holy thursday, between four and six in the morning, the nuns whose retreat had been attacked were taken to st. catherine's. wessel received them courteously on the threshold of the cloister, took the abbess by the hand and intoned the popish hymn _veni, sponsa salvatoris_, etc. the abbess begged of him to cease this joking, and rather to welcome her with some flagons of wine. wessel objected that the hour was too early to begin drinking. i have narrated the circumstances which compelled burgomaster nicholas smiterlow to take refuge at my mother's with his two sons, nicholas and bertrand. the first-named, a doughty young man, good-looking and of independent character, had with great credit to himself terminated his studies. i have rarely seen such beautiful handwriting as his. impatient to see the world, he felt himself cramped in pomerania, and when he heard that emperor charles had an army in italy, he induced his father to give him an outfit and to allow him to join it. provided with a well-lined purse, he joined the imperial troops, took part in the storming and sacking of rome, got a great deal of loot, but fell ill and died. fate proved not more lenient to doctor zutfeld wardenberg, also the son of a burgomaster. berckmann and other writers have made him pass as a great prelate. be this as it may; he certainly fancied himself a member of the trinity which rules the universe. in his official functions he observed no law but his own sweet will. his own house contained a prison, and he behaved as if the council did not exist. in short, he wound up by setting the magistrates against him to such an extent that one night he judged it prudent to leave the city. his brother, joachim, opened the gates to him without authority--a piece of daring which cost him ten weeks of imprisonment in the blue tower. at the sacking of rome, zutfeld wardenberg tried to hide himself among the invalids of a hospital. he was soon discovered, killed, and everything taken away from him. in the church of st. mary, at stralsund, stands the handsome mausoleum he had prepared for himself, together with an epitaph setting forth his titles, but his body lies somewhere at rome, no one knows where. burgomaster smiterlow was as frank in his speech as he was open of heart. when he conversed in the street his strong and clear voice could be heard a couple of yards off. all his speeches began with "yes, in the name of jesus." one day, after dinner, he went into his stables where, as a rule, he had three horses; he saw one of his stablemen strike one of the animals with a pitchfork, saying, in imitation of himself, "in the name of jesus." smiterlow snatched the implement away from him, then stuck it between his shoulders so that he dropped down, and quietly remarked: "now and again i cause people to cry 'in the name of all the devils.'" according to the custom of the papists, my mother went at half-past twelve, especially during lent, to recite a pater noster and an ave maria before each of the three altars of her ordinary church. she always took her little bartholomäi with her. on one occasion i sat down on the steps of the first altar and began to relieve nature; when she passed on to the second, i followed her and continued the operation, which i finished on the third. when my mother perceived what had occurred she rushed home in hot haste and sent a servant with a broom to repair the mischief. seeing how young she was when separated from her husband and left with four young children, it is not surprising that my mother had moments of sadness and discouragement. one day that she was cutting up some dry fish, a piece fell from the block. i picked it up. without noticing my mother stooped at the same time, and as i was rising, the edge of the hatchet cut my forehead. the scar was never effaced. the lord be praised, though, the accident had no further consequence. hartmann's family having received satisfaction, my father appointed to meet his wife and his children at the manse of neuenkirchen. it was in the autumn and the pears were ripe. after having shaken down and eaten as many as they could, the children began to pelt each other with them. a big pear dropped under the hoofs of a couple of horses tied to a large pear tree. when i stooped to get hold of it, one of the animals dealt me a severe kick at the temple. there was general consternation, and the wound being seemingly dangerous, we came back immediately to town, and i was taken to the doctor. the dukes george and barnim came to stralsund with four hundred horsemen; they received homage and confirmed the privileges of the city. as for the claims of the priests, it was decided to refer them to the imperial chamber. burgomasters, councillors, burghers, preachers (in all about threescore), were summoned to depose on oath before the imperial commissioners, sitting at greifswald. the lawsuit cost the city a considerable sum; the clergy practically flung the money away, but the rector, hippolytus steinwer, began to perceive that the chances were turning against them, and one day he was found dead. it was believed he had strangled himself from vexation. that event put an end to the litigation. the priests returned one after another to stralsund. gradually the sobered citizens began to open their eyes to the serious prejudice which was being done to public and private interests by the agitation of moller. on the other hand, the princes had learned to know smiterlow during the journey to nuremberg; they were also aware of the esteem in which he had been held by their father. all those feelings showed themselves on the occasion of the rendering of homage. rolof moller was obliged to leave the city, and burgomaster smiterlow re-entered it on august , . moller, after a stay of several years at stettin, received permission to come back to stralsund, smiterlow giving his consent; but scarcely a fortnight after his return had gone by when he died, it was said, of grief; and the assumption was sufficiently plausible. hence, smiterlow spent the time of his exile at my mother's, at greifswald, while his house at stralsund sheltered my father. the wives of the two banished men went constantly and at all seasons from one town to another, through hail, snow, rain, frost and cold, and also to the great detriment of their purse and their health. i have often been told afterwards i was a restless, energetic child. i often went up to the tower of st. nicholas's, and on one occasion i made the round of it outside. my mother, standing on the threshold of her house, facing the church, was a witness of the feat, and dared scarcely breathe until her son came down safe and skin-whole. it would appear that little bartholomäi had his reward at her hands. while at greifswald i had already been sent to school. besides reading, i was taught declension, comparisons and conjugation, according to the grammar of donat; after which we passed to torrentinus. on palm sunday i was selected to intone the _quantus_; the preceding years i had sung at first the short, then the long _hic est_. what an honour for the child and for the parents! it was a real feast, for as a rule the sharpest boys are chosen those who, undeterred by the crowds of priests and laymen, bring out their clearest notes, especially for the _quantus_. the continuation of this story will, however, soon show how, from being sanguine, my temperament became melancholy, and how my gaiety and recklessness vanished. chapter ii my student's days at greifswald--victor bole and his tragical end--a servant possessed by the devil--my brother johannes' preceptors and mine--my father's never-ending law suits having acquired the certainty that the hartmanns would never consent to my father's return to greifswald, my parents, like the conscientious married couple they were, desired to bear in common the domestic burdens. in the spring of my mother, after having let her dwelling at greifswald, joined her husband at stralsund, where he had the freeman's right and a tumble-down old house. my maternal grandfather, christian schwarz, at that time city treasurer, kept me with him in order to let me pursue my studies. i underwent the ceremonial of installation, a kind of burlesque function of initiation applied to novices. my tutor was george normann, of the island of rügen, who terminated his career in the service of the king of sweden. i was the reverse of a studious boy and fonder of roving about with my relative in his journeys about greifswald than of books. as a consequence my mental progress was in proportion to my efforts. there was at greifswald a burgomaster named victor bole, belonging to a notable family of the island of rügen. before he attained his civic honours he was a good evangelical and a zealous friend of the preachers, but his apostasy was thorough. as much as he had supported the ministry before his election, as much did he oppose them afterwards. i remember seeing him at the meetings of the corporation seated in the front place in virtue of his dual quality of eldest member and burgomaster, more or less in liquor, browbeating and talking everybody down (in high-german always). as he had taken part in several expeditions, fighting was the invariable theme of his discourses. he generally summoned the musicians, cymbal players and pipers before him. "dost thou know a war cry?" he asked of a piper. "yes, certainly," was the reply, while shrill notes rent the air. but the burgomaster was beaming. "this, at any rate, is a useful kind of fellow; while that knipstro of stralsund stammers in the pulpit about _pap_, _pap_, _pap_, i am sure he could play a war cry. then what's the good of him?" "those who laugh last laugh loudest," says the proverb. that same year, , the king of the may was bertrand smiterlow. i walked in front of him carrying his crown. bole did smiterlow the honour to prance by his side, being very pleased to parade his servants and his horses, of the latter of which he had four in his stable. if the skies had shown a little bit more clement we should have been very happy. but though it was the st may, there was not a bud nor a blade of grass to be seen. on the contrary, the snow powdered our procession with large flakes, both on coming and on going. as a consequence everybody was in a hurry to get back again. odd to relate, the seed did not seem to suffer. after they had presented the crown to the may king in the city, everybody galloped back to his own roof tree. when the burgomaster reached his house he was taken with such violent colic that he had scarcely time to hand his horse to his servant before he dropped down dead. his neck was entirely twisted round, and his face was black. as a matter of course, people ascribed it to a visitation of god for having made fun of those who preached his word. in the states were called together at stettin to ratify the pact of succession between the elector of brandenburg and the dukes of pomerania. the deputy of greifswald, burgomaster gaspard bunsaw, my mother's first cousin, took me with him as page, or rather as companion, and also to enable me to see something new. our host had a magnificent garden; on the banks of a vast lake uprose a vast tower with an inside staircase, closed by a trap. one day that the company was amusing itself in watching the carps from that tower, i hauled myself up to the window out of curiosity, but i forgot the yawning trap door behind me, and was flung right to the bottom. it was a miracle that i did not break my neck, or, at any rate, my arms and my legs. heaven preserved me by means of its angels, who frustrate the tricks of the evil one. at the age of five, nicholas, the eldest son of bertrand smiterlow, was already much taller and stronger than i; this incarnate fiend worried all the children of the neighbourhood, and instead of reprimanding him, his father took no notice of the complaints against him. this indulgence bore such excellent fruit that in order to prevent disputes and perhaps personal violence between young nicholas' father and the neighbours, christian schwarz considered it advisable to take nicholas to live with him, and so we shared the same bed. one morning as we were dressing on the big locker at the foot of the bed, the youngster, without saying a word and out of sheer mischief, hit me right in the chest and made me tumble backward, a downright dangerous fall. the grandfather gave a dinner-party to his children and other people. late in the evening the servants came with links to take their masters home. while they were waiting for that purpose, nicholas began to play them tricks, which they endured from fear of the grandfather. rendered bold by impunity, nicholas struck some of the servants on the lips, but one of these retorted by a box on the ears which sent nicholas whining to his grandfather. after the banquet the lanterns were lighted, and everybody was preparing to get home quietly when bertrand smiterlow, drawing his knife, rushed at the offending servant, who was lighting his master on his way, and wounded him seriously in the shoulder. on account of all this christian schwarz preferred to send me back to stralsund to leaving me to enjoy the risky society of nicholas. the boy grew up and his faults with him, for they amused his father, who encouraged them while nobody dared to say a word in protest. nicholas had reached the age of twenty-seven when travelling to rostock, he stopped for the night at roevershagen. some travellers, knowing his quarrelsome character, preferred to take themselves and their conveyance to the inn opposite. one of these had a sporting dog, which, running about, found its way into the hostel where smiterlow was staying. the latter tied up the animal, did not send it back, and next morning the rightful owner saw it being taken away on a leash. naturally, the man claimed his dog. smiterlow, instead of giving him a civil answer, takes aim at him; the other, more prompt, quickly fires a bullet into the thigh. smiterlow, in his wounded condition, got as far as rostock, had his wound attended to; nevertheless died a few days later in consequence. the merchant continued his route without troubling himself, and no one lodged a complaint. bertrand smiterlow contracted the itch in the back; father and son, therefore, had their just reward. heaven preserve me from criticizing the descendants of herr smiterlow, to whom i am doubly related, but i trust that mine will bring up their children in a more severe discipline and in the respect of their fellow-men. in the english pest which had already been spoken of during the previous year, carried away many people at stralsund. my mother had two attacks, from both of which she fortunately recovered. being _enceinte_ with my brother christian, she ordered, like the good housewife she was, a general cleaning before her confinement. it so happened that we had a servant-girl who was possessed. nobody had the faintest suspicion of this. when, at the moment of cleaning the kitchener and cooking utensils, she began noisily to fling about saucepans, frying-pans, etc., crying at the top of her voice, "i want to get out, i want to get out." her mother, who lived in the zinngiesser strasse (pewterers' street), had to take her back. the poor girl was taken several times in a sleigh to st. nicholas's, and they exorcised her after the sermon. her case, as far as the answers tended to show, was as follows: the mother had brought new cheese at the market. in her absence, the daughter had opened the cupboard and made a large breach in the cheese; the mother, on her return, had expressed the wish that the devil might take the perpetrator of this thing, and from that moment dated the "possession." the girl had, nevertheless, been to communion since; how, then, could the evil one have kept his position? the priest, interrogated on that point, had answered: "the scoundrel, who has hidden himself under a bridge, lets the honest man pass over his head"; in other words, during the sacramental act, the evil one hid himself under the girl's tongue. the evil one was excommunicated and exorcised by the faithful on their bended knees. the formula of exorcism was received with derision. when the priest summoned him to go, he exclaimed: "i am agreeable, but you do not expect me to go with empty hands. i want this, and that, and the other." if they refused him one thing he asked for something quite different; and inasmuch as one of the faithful had remained "covered" during prayers, the evil one politely snatched up his hat, and if god had let him have his own way, hair and skin would have accompanied the headgear. at about the same period i witnessed an analogous fact. frau kron, an honest and pious matron, was possessed by a demon; the minister was preparing to drive it out at all costs when frau wolff entered. she was a young woman who surpassed her sisters in the art of beautifying her face, arranging her cap, and posing before the looking glass. when the evil spirit caught sight of her, he shouted. "ah, you are here, are you? just wait a bit till i arrange your cap before the mirror. your ears shall tingle, i can tell you." to come back to our own servant. when the power of mischief noticed that the time for tormenting her had passed away, and that the lord was granting the prayers of the faithful, the evil one asked in a mocking tone a pane of the belfry's window, which request was no sooner accorded to him than the pane shivered into ever so many splinters. the girl, however, ceased to be possessed; she married in the village, and had several children. my brother johannes had for his first tutor herr aepinus, before the latter had his doctor's degree,[ ] and afterwards hermannus bonus,[ ] who would have been pleased to settle at stralsund with fifty florins per annum, but the council of that particular period did not contain one member who had had a university training. like the princes the council inclined towards papism, and looked askance at men of letters; hence, it rejected bonnus' overtures. the latter soon afterwards became the tutor of the young king of denmark, for whose use he composed his _praecepta grammaticae_, which was much more easy than the donat grammar, and prevails to the present day under the title of the _grammatica bonni_. at his return from denmark, bonnus was appointed superintendent at lubeck, where he is interred _honorifice_ behind the choir. when my brother left the school at lubeck, my parents made many heavy sacrifices to keep him at wittemberg for several years, where, notwithstanding some _delicta juventutis_, he studied with advantage. my tutor's name was matthias brassanus. at the outset of his career he had been a monk at the monastery of camp, but at the suppression of the institution he had lived at wittemberg at the cost of the prince, like leonard meisisch, the future court preacher and minister at wolgast, and afterwards pastor at altenkirchen--a downright epicurean pig! brassanus, on the other hand, was a small, polite, temperate, well-bred, evenly balanced man. after his stay at wittemberg he became the preceptor of george and johannes smiterlow, and afterwards _rector scholae_. their worships of lubeck having prevailed upon the council of stralsund to part with this able teacher, brassanus devoted the whole of his life successfully directing the school of lubeck. i profited as much by the lessons as my natural restlessness of character permitted. there was a great deal of aptitude, but the application failed. in the winter time i ran amusing myself on the floating ice with my fellow-scholars of my own age. johannes gottschalk, our ringleader, always got scot-free, thanks to his long legs, while the rest of the gang (and i was invariably with them) took many enforced footbaths in order to get safely to the banks. my father, in crossing the bridge had occasion more than once to witness the prowess of his son, who received many a sound drubbing when he came to dry himself before the stove, for my father was a choleric gentleman. in summer i was in the habit of bathing with my chums behind lorbeer's grange, which at present is my property. burgomaster smiterlow, having noticed me from his garden, told of me, and one day, while i was still asleep, my father planted himself in front of my bed, flourishing a big stick. he spoke very loudly while placing himself into position, and i was obliged to open my eyes. the sight of the club told me that my hour had come; i burst into tears and pleaded for mercy. "very well, my good sir," said my father; when he called me "my good sir" it was a bad sign. "very well, my good sir, you have been bathing; now allow me to rub you down." saying which, he got hold of his weapon, pulled my shirt over my head, and did frightful execution. my parents brought us up carefully. my father was somewhat hasty, and now and again his anger carried him beyond all bounds. i put him out of temper one day when he was in the stable and i at the door. he caught up a pitchfork and flung it at me. i had just time to get out of the way; the pitchfork stuck into a bath made of oak, and they had much trouble to get it out. in that way the evil one was frustrated in all his designs against me by providence. in a similar case, my mother, who was gentleness and tenderness itself, came running to the spot. "strike harder," she said, "the wicked boy deserves all he gets." at the same time she slyly held back the arm of her husband, preventing the stick from coming down too heavily. oh, my children, pray that the knowledge may be vouchsafed to you of bringing up your family in the way they should go. correct them temperately, without compromising either their health or their intelligence, but at the same time do not imitate the apes who from excess of tenderness, smother their young. rector brassanus insisted upon his pupils being present when he preached. some were clever enough to get away on the sly; they went to buy pepper cakes, and repaired afterwards to the dram shop. the trick was done before there was time to look round. when the sermon drew to its close, every one was in his place again, and we went back to school as if nothing had happened. one day, however, we drank so much brandy that i felt horribly sick and vomited violently, and found it impossible either to keep on my legs or to articulate a syllable. the strongest of my schoolfellows took me home. my parents were under the impression that i was seriously ill; had they suspected the real cause of my malady, their treatment would have been less tender. when, at last, i avowed the truth, the fear of punishment had long ago vanished. the adventure was productive of some good. it inspired me with a thorough disgust for brandy, so that i could not even bear the smell of it. my daily playmate was george smiterlow, for we were neighbours, nearly relatives, and of about the same age, i being but a year older than he. one day he cut me with his knife between the index and the thumb, and i still bear the scar. as i was whittling a piece of wood, my sister anna snatched it away from me, and in trying to get it back again, i drove the chisel into my right thigh up to the handle. master joachim gelhaar, an excellent _chirurgus_, renowned far and wide, began by probing the wound, and by getting the bad blood out of it; after which he dressed it with a cabbage leaf which was constantly kept moist. i was just recovering the use of my leg again when i took it into my head to go to the wood with my schoolfellows, for it was always difficult for me to keep still. the fatigue thus incurred caused a relapse. next morning i dragged myself as far as the surgeon, who suspected my excursion, and swore at seeing a month of his efforts wasted. i should have been in a nice predicament if he had complained to my father. in , on the monday before st. bartholomew, they burned at stralsund, bischof, a tailor who had outraged his own daughter, aged twelve. the fellow was so strong that he jumped from the pyre when the fire had destroyed his bonds, but the executioner plunged his knife into him, and flung him back into the flames. the following happened in june, . a young fellow, good-looking, and with most fascinating manner, but by no means well enough in worldly goods, courted a more or less well-preserved widow, notwithstanding her nine children of her first husband, which subsequently she increased by another nine of her second. tempted by the amiability, the appearance, and the demeanour of the youngster, the dame consented to be his wife. the happy day was already fixed, the viands ordered, and the preparations completed, but the bridegroom was at a loss how to pay for his wedding clothes, the customary presents and other things. hence, one fine evening he left the city, and in the early morn reached the village of putten, where, espying a ladder on a peasant's cart, he puts it against the wall of the church, breaks one of its windows, gets inside, forces the reliquary, possessing himself of the chalices, other holy vessels, all the gold and silver work, not forgetting the wooden box containing the money. after which, taking the way whence he had come, he flung away the box and entered the city laden with the spoil. a local cowherd, driving his cattle to the field, happened to pick up the box. at the selfsame moment the sight of the ladder and of the broken window sets the whole of the place, rector, beadle, clerk, and peasantry, mad with excitement. the whole village is up in arms; the neighbouring roads are scoured in search of the perpetrator of the sacrilege. at twelve o'clock, the cowherd comes back with the box. he is arrested; the patrons of the church, who reside in the city, have him put to the torture. he confesses to the theft. there was, nevertheless, the absolute impossibility for him to have got rid of the stolen objects, inasmuch as he had been guarding his cattle during the five or six hours that had gone by between the robbery and his arrest; the slightest inquiry would have conclusively proved his innocence. in spite of this, the confession dragged from the poor wretch by unbearable pain, appears most conclusive. condemned there and then, he is there and then put on the wheel. the real culprit watched the execution with the utmost composure. the proceeds of this first crime were, however, by no means sufficient to defray the cost of the wedding, and the bridegroom forced another church. he took a reliquary and a holy vessel, reduced them to fragments, and tried to sell them to some goldsmiths at greifswald. this time he was unable to lead the pursuers off the scent. having been arrested in the house of my wife's parents, he was racked alive, and his body left to the carrion birds. a similar tragedy took place between the easter and whitsun of . i anticipate events, because the horror of them was pretty well equal, but there was a great difference in the procedure. in the one case, deplorable acts, at variance with all wisdom, and disgraceful to christians; in the other place, a thoroughly laudable conduct, consistent with right and reason. on his return from leipzig, whither he had gone to buy books, johannes altingk, the son of the late werner altingk, a notable citizen and bookseller of stralsund, was killed on the road from anelam to greifswald. in consequence of active inquiries, two individuals on whom rested grave suspicions, were incarcerated at wolgast. but the case was proceeded with more methodically than the one i have just narrated. the magistrates went with the instruments of torture to the prisoner, who seemed the least resolved. he made a complete avowal. his companion and he had put up for the night at an inn at grosskistow; johannes altingk had taken his seat at their table and shared their meal. then, before going to bed, he had paid for all three, showing at the same time a well filled purse. the scoundrels had at once made up their minds between them to kill him at a little distance from the inn on the foot-road, intersected here and there by deep ruts, and where consequently there was only room to pass in single file. "next morning, then, when the young bookseller was marching along between his fellow-travellers, i struck him at the back of the head;" said the accused. "the blow knocked him off his feet; we soon made an end of him altogether, and flung his body to the bottom of the deep bog. with my part of the spoil i bought myself this hat and this pair of shoes." after this interrogatory, the judges, accompanied by the executioner and his paraphernalia, went to the second prisoner, who denied everything. it was in vain they pressed him and told him of his accomplice's avowal; he went on denying everything. when they were confronted, the one who had been first examined repeated all the particulars of the crime, beseeching the other to prevent a double martyrdom, inasmuch as the truth would be dragged from them by torture, and the punishment was unavoidable. no doubt the stralsund authorities, those who had judged the above named perpetrator of the sacrilege, would have put the accused on the rack without the least compunction or ceremony, _de simplice et piano, sine strepitu judicii, quemadmodum deus procedere solet_. at wolgast, on the contrary, though the hangman had orders to hold himself in readiness, _ad actum propinquum_, the magistrates preferred to exercise some delay. the prince had the bog examined, but no body was found there. when taken to the spot, the prisoner who had confessed his guilt recognized the place of the murder, without being able, however, to point it out accurately. the landlord and his wife at gross-kistow, when examined carefully, denied having lodged any one at the period indicated. finally, a messenger of the brandenburg march brought the news that an assassin condemned to death confessed to having killed in pomerania a young librarian, for which crime two individuals were under lock and key at wolgast. when taxed with having almost caused the death of innocent people by false avowals, the self-confessed murderer replied that death seemed to him preferable to the "criminal question," as that kind of torture was called. their acquittal was pronounced on their taking the oath to bring no further action. but this only shows the precautions to be taken before applying the instruments of torture to merely suspected men. on the other hand, it has been shown over and over again that some of the guilty hardened to that kind of thing will allow themselves to be torn to pieces sooner than avow. in that year ( ) duke george died in the prime of his life. his second wife was the sister to margrave joachim; they got rid of her for about , florins, and she subsequently married a prince of anhalt, but finally she eloped with a falconer. my mother having realized all her property at greifswald, my parents really possessed a considerable fortune in sterling coin, and they called my father "the rich man of the passen strasse." it wanted, however, but a few years to shake his credit and to impair the happiness of his family. without exaggeration, two women, named lubbeke and engeln were the principal causes of our reverses. not content to buy on credit our cloth, which they resold to heaven knows who, they borrowed of my father, fifty, a hundred, and as much as a hundred and fifty crowns on the slightest pretext. the crown in those days was worth eight and twenty shillings of lubeck. they promised to refund at eight and twenty and a half, and to settle for their purchases at the same rate; but if now and again they happened to make a payment on account of a hundred florins, they took care to buy at the same time goods for double the amount. my mother did not look kindly upon those two customers; she imagined that her money would be better invested at five per cent., and she spared neither warnings, prayers, nor tears to dissuade my father from trusting them. she even took pastor knipstrow and others into her confidence to that effect. finally, the account came to a considerable amount, while the debtors were unable to pay as much as twenty florins. then it transpired what had become of the cloth. the mother of one townsman, jacob leveling, had had florins of it; the wife of another, hermann bruser, , florins. hermann bruser was a big cloth merchant who sold retail much cheaper than any of his fellow-tradesmen. my father having taken proceedings against his two customers as well as against the woman bruser, the latter and her husband promised to pay the , florins. nicholas rode, who had married bruser's sister, and the syndic of the city, johannes klocke, afterwards burgomaster, induced my father to accept that arrangement, and bruser secured conditions after having signed an acknowledgment beginning as follows: "i, together with my legitimate wife, declare to be duly and lawfully indebted to etc., etc." the syndic had drawn up this act with his own hand. he had affixed his signature to it, and his seal, and rode had in the latter two respects done the same. but the period of the first payment coinciding with the tumult against nicholas smiterlow, bruser, one of the ringleaders, thought he could have the whip hand of my father as well as of the burgomaster. on his refusal to pay, the case came before the court once more; and then, while denying his debt, in spite of the formal terms of his declaration, bruser denounced as usurious agreements obtained by litigation. klocke and rode assisted him with their advice and influence; the first-named, in his capacity of a lawyer, conducted the suit, and quoting the _leges et doctorum opiniones_, easily convinced his non-legally educated colleagues of the council. the westphalian cyriacus erckhorst, the son-in-law of rode, and a velvet merchant, plotted on his side. there were golden florins for the all-powerful burgomaster lorbeer, and pieces of dress-material for mrs. burgomaster; so that, after long arguments on both sides, bruser was allowed to swear that he was ignorant of the affair, which, moreover, was tainted with usury. my father could not conceive that this personage would have the audacity to deny his signature, and, supported in his supposition by burgomaster nicholas smiterlow, he did not appeal against the judgment, and at the next sitting bruser appeared at the bar of the inner court, took the oath, and offered to comply with the second part of the order; only, in consequence of the absence of his witness he claimed a delay of a twelvemonth and a day, which was accorded to him; after which my father appealed to the council of stralsund and afterwards to that of lubeck. in due time my father started for lubeck, and took me with him. at rostock, we lodged at the sign of _the hop_, in the market place. my father had a considerable sum upon him to pay cash for his purchases of salt, salted cod-fish and soap, and as a measure of precaution, he carried that money in his small clothes, for mecklenburg was infested by footpads and highwaymen. while undressing, he dropped his purse under the bed, an accident which he did not notice until next day about twelve o'clock, when we had reached bukow. as the court was just about to open it fell to my lot to take the road back to rostock _per pedes_. on that day i could get no further than berkentin, but very early next morning i was at rostock. naturally, i rushed to the inn and to the room. luckily the servants had not made the beds. i soon espied the little bag and was in time to take the coach to wismar. my father, uneasy on my account, was already reproaching himself for having let me go. their worships of lubeck condemned bruser to keep his written promise; he then appealed to the imperial chamber. the suit dragged along for several years; finally, the supreme decision was to the effect that it had been well judged, but improperly thrown into appeal in the first instance, and that in the second it had been faultily judged and properly sent for appeal. the defendant was condemned to pay the costs to be determined by the judge. and now i may be permitted to give an instance of the disloyalty of the procurators of the imperial chamber. doctor simeon engelhardt, my father's procurator, did not hesitate to write to him that he had won his case, and asked for the bill of costs of the two previous instances, so that he might hand them to the taxing judge and apply for execution. he added that the trouble he had taken with the affair seemed to him to warrant special fees. my parents, elated with the news, promptly transmitted the bill of costs and their fees for the execution. engelhardt produced the _cedula expensarum_; bruser's procurator requested copy, not without pretending to raise objection. engelhardt delivered the required copy, leaving to the judge the case of designating the winning party; in other words, the one who had the right to present the _designatio expensarum_. well, that right was adjudged to bruser, who drew up the _cedula_ after _ours_. engelhardt was compelled to hold his tongue and my father had to pay florins. that point having been settled, they passed to the second _membrum_ of the stralsund judgment; namely, whether the conditions stipulated for by my father were tainted with usury? after such an expensive and protracted lawsuit, the court, considering that bruser had failed in his attempt to bring proof, condemned him to fulfil his engagements. against that sentence he appealed to lubeck. having been non-suited there, he wished to have recourse to the imperial chamber, but we signified opposition to the _exceptio devolutionis_. according to us, he had not complied with the privilege of lubeck. bruser's procurator maintained the contrary. the whole of the discussion bore entirely on the sense of the word "_wann_" inserted in the lubeck _vidimus_. was it a _conjunctio causalis, cum posteaquam_, or an _adverbium temporis, quando_? after long-drawn debates, the appeal was rejected, and bruser had all the costs to pay. then, to frustrate his adversary, he pleaded poverty on oath, although he gave to his daughter as many pearls and jewels as a burgomaster's girl could possibly pretend to. foreseeing the upshot of the lawsuit, he had already disposed of one of his houses; after which he bestirred himself to safeguard his dwelling-house, his cellar and his various other property from being seized. nicholas rode, he who had signed the obligation, deposed to that effect, a document professedly anterior to my father's claim, an act constituting in his favour a general mortgage on all bruser's property. as a matter of course, this led to a new lawsuit, which occupied respectively the courts of stralsund and of lubeck and the imperial chamber. the latter registered rode's appeal at the moment the protestant states denied its jurisdiction. a suspension of six years was the result, but after the reconstitution of the chamber and the closure of the debates, i did not succeed, in spite of two years' stay at spires, in getting a judgment. weary of being involved in law for thirty-four years, my father wound up by acquitting the heirs of rode of all future liabilities in consideration of a sum of one thousand florins. as it happened the original debt was seventeen hundred and five and twenty florins; in addition to this, my father had refunded to bruser one hundred and sixty-four florins expenses, his own costs exceeded a thousand florins and he had waited forty years for his money. the whole affair was nothing short of a downright calamity to our family; it interrupted my studies and caused the death of my brother johannes. "_dimidium plus toto_," says hesiod, and the maxim is above all wise in connexion with a law-suit at the imperial chamber. writing, as i do, for the edification of my children, i consider it useful to mention here the subsequent fate of our godless adversaries. the seventy-fifth psalm says: "for in the hand of the lord there is a cup, and the wine is red, and he poured out of the same, but the dregs thereof all the wicked of the earth shall wring them out and drink them." yes, the almighty has comforted me, he has permitted me to see the scattering of my enemies. the two principal ones, hermann bruser and his fraudulent wife, fell into abject misery; they lived for many years on the bounty of parents and friends; finally the husband became valet of joachim burwitz who from the position of porter and general servant at the school when i was young had risen to be the secretary of the king of sweden. the devil, however, twisted bruser's neck at stockholm. he was found in his master's wardrobe, his face all distorted. his daughter, dowered _in fraudem mei patris_, did, for all that, not escape very close acquaintance with poverty. she sold her houses and her land; and at her death her husband became an inmate of the asylum of the holy ghost, where he is to this day. bruser's son, it is true, rose to be a secretary in sweden, but far from prospering, he committed all kind of foolish acts everywhere. his first wife, the daughter of burgomaster gentzkow,[ ] died of grief at stralsund, where he had left her with her children at his departure for sweden. he was found dead one morning in his room; his descendants are vegetating some in the city, some in the country. the author of the plot, the honest dispenser of advice, johannes klocke, managed to keep his wealth, but he was racked with gout and had to be carried in a chair to the town hall; he died after having suffered martyrdom for many years. the four sons of nicholas rode were reduced to beggary; the house bruser sold in order to cheat my father actually belongs to my son-in-law. as for burgomaster christopher lorbeer, so skilled in prolonging law-suits, does he not expiate, he and his, every day, the wrong in having lent himself to corruption. erckhorst, the man who tempted him, was robbed while engaged in transporting from one town to another two large bundles of velvet, silk, jewellery and pearls, the whole being estimated at several thousands of florins. his second wife was the byword of the city for her levity of conduct; at every moment she was caught in her own dwelling-house and in the most untoward spots committing acts of criminal intercourse with her apprentices. what had been saved from the thieves was devoured by his wife's paramours. absolutely at a loss to reinstate himself in his former position, erckhorst made an end of his life by stabbing himself. my father's other debtor, the woman leveling, was left a widow with an only son. her property in houses and in land yielded, it was said, a golden florin and a fowl per day. that fortune, nevertheless, melted away, and leveling, worried by her creditors, was obliged to quit her house with nothing but what she stood up in. lest her son, a horrible ne'er-do-well of fifteen, should spend his nights in houses of ill-fame, she kept a mistress for him at home; after that she married him at such an early age as to astonish everybody, but he cared as much about the sanctity of marriage as a dog cares about lent. during the ceremonies connected with rendering homage to duke philip, the duchess lodged at leveling's and stood godmother to his new-born daughter, which honour had not the slightest effect in changing the scandalous life he led with a concubine. one night, in company with a certain valentin buss, he emptied the baskets in the pond of the master of the fishmongers. an arrant thief, he was fast travelling towards the gallows. buss, who wound up by going to prison, would have been hanged but for leveling, who in order to redeem himself parted to the council with his last piece of ground, namely, that in which his father's body rested in the church. one day at the termination of the sermon, leveling, sword in hand, pursued my father, who had just time to reach his domicile and to shut the door in his face. on the other hand, master sonnenberg, who sheltered the old woman leveling while she was negotiating with her creditors, was not content with egging on her son to all sorts of evil deeds, but had the effrontery to say to my father: "i'll tame you so well that you shall come and eat out of my hands." after having squandered his inheritance, leveling died in the most abject poverty; his daughter marie, the duchess' goddaughter, sells fish in the market. such was the end of the wealthy popinjay. mother and son followed the traditions of their family without having profited by the lessons of the past; one of the woman leveling's relatives was, in fact, that burgomaster wulf wulflam, reputed the richest man on that part of the coast,[ ] whose wife was so fond of show and splendour that at her second marriage she sent for the prince's musicians from stettin and walked from her house to the church on an english carpet. for her own wear she only used the finest riga flax. so much vainglory was punished by the god of justice, who expels from his kingdom the proud and haughty. the only thing she had finally left of all her magnificence was a silver bowl with which she went begging from door to door. "charity," she cried, "for the poor rich woman." one day she asked from one of her former servants a shift and some linen for a collar to it. moved with pity, the latter did not refuse. "madame," she said, "this linen was made of the flax you used for your own wear. i have carefully picked it up, cleaned and spun it."[ ] the arrangement made by the levelings with their creditors gave to my father the passage of the muhlen-strasse. inasmuch as the premises were tumbling to pieces, masons, carpenters, stonecutters and plasterers were soon set to work and began by expelling the rats, mice and doubtful human creatures that had taken up their quarters there. the best tenement adjoining the city wall with a beautiful look-out on the moats and the open country was occupied by the concubine of zabel lorbeer. she was one of the three maries, and had presented him with either seven or eight bastards. my father, finding the door locked one morning, ordered the workmen to knock down the wall which fell on the bed where the scamp and the girl were sleeping; the only thing they could do was to get out of the way as quickly as possible. lorbeer brought up his progeny according to the principles that guided him; and finally had his son beheaded to save him the disgrace of the gallows. a short digression is necessary in connexion with the three maries.[ ] they were sisters, exceedingly good-looking, but the poet's "_et quidem servasset, si non formosa fuisset_," essentially applied to them. many traps are laid for beauty, and they one after another fell into them. they lived on their charms, being particularly careful about their appearance and dress in order to attract admirers. their attempts to obtain such notice were seconded by an unspeakable old crone, anna stranck, who had been a downright messalina in her time, and of whom it was said that she could reckon on the whole of the city among her parentage, although she had neither husband nor children, but that she had had illicit intercourse with every male, young, old and middle-aged, fathers, sons and brothers. anna stranck invented for the use of the three maries a kind of loose coif, the fashion of which our womenkind have religiously preserved; even those who have discarded it wearing a velvet hood based upon that model. they brought their hair, black or grey about two inches down on the forehead. then came as many inches of gold lace or embroidery, so that the real cap, intended to keep the head warm did not in the least cover the brain. i am purposely quoting the name of anna stranck, for it is well to remind people to whom the headgear was due in the first instance; and may it please our dames to preserve it for ever in memory of the woman, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother of their husbands. i now resume my personal narrative. during the rebuilding of this new property, i was fetching and carrying all the while. one day my father sent me to our own house for the luncheon for himself and for the carpenters. the workmen were just knocking down a chimney; they were working higher than the chimney on a gangway made of boards which at each extremity overlapped the stays. a great number of large nails were strewn about the scaffolding. i climbed up, with my arms full of provisions, but scarcely did i set my foot on the gangway than the gangway toppled over and i was flung into space, the nails descending in a shower on my head. i just happened to fall by the side of the open chimney; half an ell more or less and i should have been through its aperture on the ground floor. as it was, the accident proved sufficiently serious. i had dislocated my right elbow and horribly bruised my arm. they took me home, whence my mother took me to master joachim gelhaar. he was absent, and inasmuch as the case seemed urgent, they had recourse to the barber in the old market, who dressed the bruises without noticing that the bone was dislocated. next morning master gelhaar came. a simple glance was sufficient for him; he grasped my arm, pulled and twisted it and put the bones back into their sockets. but the limb was bruised and swollen and twisted. i shall never forget the pain i suffered. in a little while, though, i was enabled to go about the house as usual with one arm in a sling, and the other available for our childish pastimes. the old beams and rafters of the premises under repair were stacked at our place. one day, while perched on one of the piles, i struck out with a hammer in my left hand; one of the beams rolled down and my leg was caught between it and the other wood. the pain made me cry out lustily, but it was impossible to disengage my leg. my mother was not strong enough for the task, and making sure that my leg was crushed, she shouted and fetched the navvies and the brewery workmen; they delivered me. when she was certain that no harm had come to me, my mother, still excited, treated me to a good drubbing. on new year's day, , my father was elected dean of the corporation of drapers.[ ] chapter iii showing the ingratitude, foolishness and wickedness of the people, and how, when once infected with a bad spirit, it returns with difficulty to common-sense--smiterlow, lorbeer and the duke of mecklenburg--fall of the seditious regime of the forty-eight the ecclesiastical affairs of stralsund had assumed more or less regular conditions; the gospel was preached in all the churches without opposition either on the part of the princes or of the council. smiterlow had sanctioned the return of rolof moller. nevertheless, peace was not maintained for long, lubeck, rostock, stralsund and wismar having revolted against their magistrates. in fact, at the death of king frederick of denmark, george wullenweber,[ ] burgomaster of lubeck, having for his acolyte marx meyer, decided to declare war upon duke christian of holstein. according to wullenweber, the conquest of denmark was a certainty; and inasmuch as the magistrates of lubeck, belonging to the old families, looked with apprehension on the enterprise, they were deposed and sixty burghers added to their successors. marx meyer was a working blacksmith with a handsome face and figure. being a skilful farrier he had accompanied the cavalry in several campaigns, and his conduct both with regard to his comrades and the enemy had been such as to gain for him the highest grades. he was created a knight in england and amassed a considerable fortune. his rise in the world filled him, however, with inordinate pride and vanity. nothing in the way of sumptuous garments and golden ornaments seemed good enough to emphasize his knightly dignity. he had a crowd of retainers and a stable full of horses, for like the majority of folk of low birth, he knew of no bounds in his prosperity. odd to relate, he was courted by people of good condition; women both young, rich and well-born fell in love with this, and it would appear that he gave them no cause to regret their infatuation. i have read a letter written to him by one of the foremost ladies of quality of hamburg: "my dear marx, after having visited all the chapels, you might for once in a way come to the cathedral." may his death be accounted as an instance of everlasting justice. in june the councillors of the wendish cities,[ ] apprehending a disaster and being moreover exceedingly grieved at this struggle against the excellent duke of holstein, foregathered at hamburg to consider the state of affairs. wullenweber, however, presumptuous as was his wont, became more obstinate than ever and rejected with scorn most acceptable terms of peace. hence, the stralsund delegate, burgomaster nicholas smiterlow, addressed the following prophetic words to him: "i have been present at many negotiations, but never have i seen matters treated like this, signor george. you will knock your head against the wall and you shall fall on your beam end." after that apostrophe, wullenweber, furious with anger, left the council-chamber, made straight for his inn, had his and meyer's horses saddled and both took the way back to lubeck, where immediately after his arrival wullenweber summoned his undignified council and the aforementioned sixty burghers, who between them decree in the twinkling of an eye a levy of troops; dispatching meanwhile to the council of stralsund a blatant sedition-monger, johannes holm, with verbal instructions and a missive couched substantially as follows: "wullenweber is zealously working to bring principalities and kingdoms under the authority of the cities, but the opposition of burgomaster smiterlow has driven him from the diet. in spite of this, the struggle is bound to continue, so it lays with you to act." nothing more than that was wanted to stir the whole of the citizens against smiterlow. the forty-eight came to tender their condolence to burgomaster lorbeer who was secretly jealous of his colleague. pretending to be greatly concerned, he exclaimed: "this is too much, impossible to defend him any longer." his hearers took it for granted that smiterlow was left to their discretion, while, according to lorbeer himself, the ambiguous words merely signified: "smiterlow has so many enemies that i can no longer come to his aid." at smiterlow's return, the fire so skilfully fed by lorbeer broke into flame. people hailed each other with the cry, "nicholas the pacific is here." the delegate had to deliver an account of his mission to the burghers summoned to that effect at six in the morning, at the town hall, with the city-gates closed and the cannon taken out of the arsenal and placed in position in the old markets the crowd poured into the streets, and at the town hall itself people were crushing the life out of each other. when nicholas smiterlow came to his statement that he had opposed wullenweber's warlike motions, there was a hurricane of cries, curses and insults; it sounded as if they had all gone stark mad at once. it was proposed to fling the speaker out of the window; an axe was flung at the councillors' bench and in endeavouring to intercept the weapon the worshipful master kasskow was severely wounded. one individual placed himself straight in front of the burgomaster. "you scum of the earth," he yelled; "did you not unjustly fine me twenty florins? now it is my turn." "what's your name?" asked smiterlow. "that's right," he said on its being given; "it was a piece of injustice, he ought to have had the gallows. i was sheriff at the time and the council instructed me to fine you twenty florins. my register of fines can show you that i did not keep them for myself, but spent them for the good of the city." his interlocutor wished to hear no more and disappeared in the crowd. it should also be noted that the beggars who generally hung about the burgomaster's dwelling were all the while vociferating under the windows of the town hall. "fling nicholas the pacific down to us," they shouted; "we'll cut him up and play ball with the pieces." one of the forty-eight having asked, "what do you think of it, my worthy burghers?" the rabble yelled, "yes, yes," without the faintest idea of the nature of the question. somebody thereupon observed, "why are you shouting 'yes'? are you willing to hand over the public chest?" thereupon there was an equally unanimous and stentorian "no." unquestionably the devil had occasion on that day to laugh at the people in his sleeve. this martyring of the first burgomaster, an eminent, virtuous man, who had, moreover, attained a certain age, was prolonged till seven o'clock at night. finally, he received the order not to leave his quarters. similar injunctions were inflicted on my father in his capacity of nephew by marriage to the burgomaster, and to joachim rantzow for having exclaimed, "gently, gently; at least give people a chance to explain themselves." the soldiers and sailors were enjoined at the sound of the drum to man the galleys, and a strict watch was kept. at night a strong squad encamped in front of smiterlow's dwelling; the soldiers, among other pastimes, amused themselves with firing at the front door; the bullets passed out at the other side of the passage through a circular glazed aperture. there were many hours of anguish for the burgomaster, his wife and children, who expected at every moment to have their home invaded by the mob. on the monday of st. john they elected two burgomasters, namely, joachim prütze, the erewhile town clerk, an honest and sensible man, and johannes klocke, the actual town clerk and syndicus. seven burghers were elected councillors; with the exception of secretary johannes senckestack, who had had no hand in the thing, they were all honest, uninteresting folk, as simple-minded as they were upright and virtuous. johannes tamme, for instance, a worthy and straightforward man, replied to the artizans and others who came to complain of the bad state of business: "make your mind easy; it will change now that seven capable people form part of the council." antique simplicity indeed. nicholas baremann boasted of earning ten marks each time he left his home. one day he went into the cellar to look at a barrel of salt-fish, he was accompanied by a servant who was not altogether right in his head. in those days men wore round their necks a very narrow collar of pleated tulle. while the master was bending over the fish, the servant with one blow of his hatchet clean cut his head off. instead of taking flight he quietly went back to his work. when interrogated about the motive of his crime, he replied that his master presented his neck so gently as to make the operation merely child's play. in spite of his unquestionable mental state, the murderer was broken alive on the wheel. my father was practically imprisoned for fifteen months in his own house, whence resulted an enormous loss to his own business, for in view of the coming herring-fair at falsterbo, in the province of schonen,[ ] his cellar and hall were packed with luneburg salt; there was also a considerable quantity of dried cod, besides a big assortment of cloth, and amidst all this he was forbidden to cross the threshold of his house and no one was allowed to come and see him. my mother was, moreover, pregnant at the time, and as the date of her confinement drew near my father asked for leave to take up his quarters with a neighbour until it was over. his petition was refused, and at the critical moment he found himself compelled to get into the adjoining house by the roof. he was also prevented from personally inviting the godparents. george wullenweber and his undisciplined followers opened the hostilities by sea and by land. in this bitter struggle the duke of holstein preserved the advantage, though he fought as one against two, but the almighty was on his side. humiliated by these reverses, with their prestige diminished and threatened with an ignominious fall, the fribbling authors of the war expected to save everything by substituting another chief for wullenweber. after a week of negotiations the emissaries of lubeck, rostock, and stralsund assembled at wismar offered to duke albrecht of mecklenburg the throne of denmark. the act, drawn up in due form and signed and sealed by lubeck, rostock and wismar was dispatched to stralsund, the signature and seal of which was wanting to it. the fine phrases of the lubeckian message got the better of the opposition of the council; the forty-eight broke open the casket containing the great seal, affixed it to the document and sent it back to wismar. every rule had been strictly observed; the duke of mecklenburg invited the representatives of the cities for the next day to a banquet, at which the act was to be handed to him. but during the morning itself the delegates of stralsund, under the pretext of wishing to examine the parchment, asked to look at it, and christopher lorbeer, borrowing a pocket-knife of his colleague, franz wessel, cut the strings of the stralsund seal, after which they made off as far as their carriage would let them. they were half-way to rostock while the other ambassadors were still waiting for them with dinner. undeterred by this, albrecht, accompanied by his wife, her ladies, servants, horses and dogs, took the road to copenhagen, like a legitimate sovereign. lorbeer himself, his children, and the rest of his relations have sung in all manner of keys the resolute--others would say, the audacious--conduct he displayed on that occasion; nobody, whether townsman, rustic or alien was to remain ignorant of the feat; and to this day people keep repeating that burgomaster lorbeer, scorning all danger (_non enim sine periculo facinus magnum et memorabile_), made himself illustrious by this signal act, by this heroic exploit. if, however, we turn the leaf, what do we read? _qui periculum amat peribit in eo_; real courage will never be confounded with reckless audacity. that the act was provided with the great seal of stralsund is a fact known to the representatives of lubeck, rostock and wismar, who handled the document on the strength of which, when ratified by the forty-eight, duke albrecht went and shut himself up in copenhagen, where he sustained a siege, and practically obliged stralsund to make the same sacrifices for him the other cities had made. consequently, one has the right to ask: "where was the advantage of detaching the seal?" if lorbeer had utilized his energy in keeping in port vessels, soldiers and ammunition, then he would have rendered a signal service, and, besides, prevented the waste of much money. do lorbeer's admirers imagine that duke albrecht would not have avenged the outrage when once his throne was consolidated? the least he would have done was to close the sound against us, and to hamper our commerce everywhere. verily they are right, the citizens who keep on praising the mad trick of lorbeer. burgomaster smiterlow bore his enforced retirement with admirable patience. instead of meddling with public affairs, he assiduously read the holy scriptures, and spent most of his time in prayer. he finally knew by heart the psalms of david. as a daily visitor to his home, i can say that no bitter word ever fell from his lips. he often repeated, "they are my fellow-citizens; the lord will move their spirit. it is my duty to suffer for the love of my children." our gracious prince, duke philip, sent to request the liberation of the burgomaster. the envoys were told that the answer would be sent to them to the hostel. the discussion was a very long one, after which they deputed the very host of the envoys, hermann meier, together with nicholas rode, the one as illiterate as the other, and both densely ignorant on every subject. hermann meier, who was a native of parow, had amassed much property in cash, in land, and in houses. being the owner of the two villages of parow, he had practically for his vassals his uncles and his cousins, whom he ruled at his will. nicholas rode was a well-to-do merchant, but who had never associated with people of condition. hermann meier had undertaken to address the envoys, but he began to stumble at the first sentence, and finally, stricken dumb altogether, he left his colleague behind, rushed from the room, and went helter-skelter down the stairs. when he reached the yard, he fell altogether ill with excitement. nevertheless, he plucked up his courage and went back--to apologize, as one would suppose. not at all. scorning all exordium, and without even giving the envoys their titles, he went straight to the point. "the council and the forty-eight," he said, "have decided in the name of the citizens that we should signify to you as follows: inasmuch as they did not consult the prince to inflict the confinement, they shall not consult him to annul it." verily, a speech worthy of the orator and of those who sent him, _similes habent labra lactucas_. i wonder what would happen if somebody took it into his head to-day to address a prince in that manner. considering that all the magistrates of that period were of most mediocre capacity (i am using a mild term), two suppositions are admissible. it was either the intention of the forty-eight to make the young duke ridiculous by choosing such delegates, or the three or four intelligent members of the council declined this foolish mission. the embassy had, however, one result. my father was summoned to the town hall, where he was told that he could recover his freedom in consideration of a fine of a hundred marks. he wished to know what fault he had committed, and was told not to "argufy." "hundred marks or the collar. you can take your choice." as a matter of course my father chose the former, although the only crime that could be imputed to him was his marriage with the niece of burgomaster smiterlow. the same mode of procedure was applied to the case of joachim rantzow, an honest and honoured citizen, who subsequently became a member of the council. shortly after this councillors nicholas rode and nicholas bolte came to enjoin burgomaster smiterlow, in conjunction with two of his relatives, to sign a document already engrossed and provided with the wax for three seals. according to them it was the only means to end his captivity and to avoid all further and even more serious dangers. in this piece of writing burgomaster smiterlow confessed to having been a traitor to the city, a perjurer, guilty of the most infamous conduct, and to have forfeited all his rights. the two councillors made it their special business to paint the situation in the most sombre colours. terror-stricken and dissolved in tears, the burgomaster's wife implored her husband to accede to the request of these two fanatics until the lord himself could come to his aid. unmanned by all this, smiterlow asked my father to seal the act with him. "no," exclaimed the latter, "i shall not sign your dishonour." but his two sons-in-law, overcome by the tears of their mother-in-law, affixed their seals. thereupon the burgomaster, escorted by the two councillors, his two sons-in-law and my father, repaired to the town hall. on their way, he went into the st. nicholas' church, knelt down in the stall near the great st. christopher, and said a short prayer. the council of the forty-eight was holding its meeting in the summer council-room. requested by christopher lorbeer to resume his usual seat, smiterlow refused. "i cannot do so," he said, "after the document i have just signed." nevertheless, they insisted until he took his seat. then he addressed them, reminding them that he had travelled in the city's service a hundred and odd days (i have forgotten the exact number, for i was only sixteen years old). "if it can be proved that i have spent one florin unnecessarily, been guilty of one neglect or caused a single prejudice, i am ready to yield all i possess and my life besides. if, on the other hand, i can show my innocence, then can i count upon the same protection as that enjoyed by the other citizens; that is, frequent the churches, cross the bridges, appear in the market place, and attend to my business in all freedom and security." the reply being affirmative, he rose from his seat, wished the council a peaceful term of administration, and, followed by his nearest relatives, went back to his home. the situation remained the same until . strong in the consciousness of his own honesty, and leaving the forty-eight to govern at their own sweet will, smiterlow remained perfectly tranquil in his retirement. he was an assiduous churchgoer, and when the weather was fine, took excursions into the country accompanied by his daughters, his sons-in-law, my parents and their family. his jovial disposition delighted them all. on the other hand, the forty-eight were constantly assailed by fear. the success of the war became more and more doubtful, in spite of the sacrifice of hundreds of lives, in spite of the pillaging of the town hall, in spite of the enormous sums wasted--thrown into the water, it would be more correct to say. they converted the bells of the city and of the villages into money; all these took the road to lubeck, where, to our disgrace be it said, the mark of stralsund can still be seen on a bronze pile-driver. twice did the citizens, from the highest to the lowest, pay the tax of the hundredth halfpenny on the strength of their oath. when they saw their power tottering, the forty-eight imitated the unjust steward of st. luke, and compelled the community to confirm, renew and extend the infamous declaration violently dragged from the council of . the new act had apparently some good in it. it enjoined upon the magistrates judicious rules of conduct which, however, were not at all within their competence. in reality, the ancient council acknowledged to have incurred by its resistance a fine which was remitted to them by their magnanimous successors. it took the engagement to favour the cause of the forty-eight. no dissension, misunderstanding, accusation or recrimination, whether relating to the past or the present, would in future be tolerated. any contravention to that effect entailed upon the councillors the loss of their dignities; upon other citizens, the loss of their civic rights; upon women and children, a fine of fifty florins, payable by the father or husband, and going to the fund for public buildings. that much was decided on the friday after candlemas, . nevertheless, the forty-eight kept trembling in their shoes. the very next year witnessed the promulgation of another decree, threatening with the utmost bodily penalty any and every one, young or old, rich or poor, magistrate or simple burgher who should decline the responsibility of the expedition to denmark, or should influence others on the subject. this act was transcribed sequentially to that of , with the formula: given under our administration anno and day as above. hence it was antedated. it was a clumsy trick, for a unique act does not admit of a codicil. but does the ass ever succeed in hiding its ears? in , on the day of _esto mihi_, duke philip married, at the castle of torgau, fräulein marie, sister of the duke of saxony, johannes friedrich. the marriage rites were performed by dr. martin luther, who after the ceremony said to the husband: "gracious prince and lord, should the event so much desired be somewhat tardy in coming, let not your highness be discouraged. _saxum_ means stone, and nothing can be drawn from a rock without time or patience. your highness shall be included in my prayers: _semen tuum non deficit_." the duchess, in fact, gave birth to her first child only about four years later. the punishment of the wicked and the triumph of the just marched abreast, _inclusio unius est exclusio alterius et e contra_. amidst the torments of hell the damned watch the bliss of the happy ones whom they have persecuted on earth. i am bound to insist upon this antithesis while pursuing my narrative. i expect no thanks, for men are so thin-skinned as to cause them to quiver at the slightest touch; and that is the reason why all those who have written on stralsund, such as thomas kantzow, valentin eichstedt,[ ] and johannes berckmann passed their pens to their successors when they got as far as . i have no desire to flatter or to find fault, but i intend to speak the real truth, however disagreeable it may turn out to be. my sole concern is to preserve the dignity of history. if people will take the trouble to read carefully the authors just named, and especially berckmann, otherwise the augustine monk, his impertinent libels will enable them to appreciate the usefulness of the present pages. the approval of honest folk is the only reward i care for; the rest is of no consequence. it is almost incredible that the duke of mecklenburg should have committed the blunder of yielding to the suggestions of wullenweber, whom all good citizens virtually disavowed. never was there a more unjust war. in disposing of a country which, on no assumption whatever, could possibly belong to them, the cities caused an incalculable prejudice to the duke of holstein, the lord's anointed, the legitimate, well-beloved, and expected sovereign. he showed great firmness. the leader of a powerful army, and master of its communications by sea and by land, he was fully aware of his superiority to an adversary who, shut up in copenhagen, only thought of pleasure, hunts and banquets. in spite of his just resentment, magnanimous christian obtained a victory over himself, and while the surrender of the city was being negotiated, he sent provisions to the duchess of mecklenburg, at that time in childbed. this was tantamount to giving her charity. after the retreat of duke albrecht, charles made a triumphal entry into copenhagen, where he was crowned in , and the presence at the pomp and ceremony of the coronation of the ambassadors of the cities was calculated to give him complete satisfaction. as for the duke of mecklenburg, he had learned to his cost the folly of disregarding the words of the holy spirit: "my son, fear thou the lord and the king, and meddle not with them that are given to change: for their calamity shall rise suddenly; and who knoweth the ruin of them both?" (proverbs xxiv. , ). at lubeck the pitiful collapse of the council brought about the reinstatement of the old magistracy. in a spirit of pacification they gave wullenweber the captaincy of bergendorf; but wullenweber, while crossing the territory of the abbey of werden, was seized by order of christopher, bishop of bremen, who handed him over to his brother, duke heindrich of brunswick. after a cruel captivity at wolfenbüttel, and in consequence of indictments as numerous as they were grave (especially from lubeck, represented by his secretary), he was sentenced to death in september, , and his body quartered. at the taking of the fortress of wardenburg, duke christian captured marx meyer, his brother gerard meyer, and a notorious danish priest. these three were executed by the sword, quartered, and their bodies shown on the rack to the great satisfaction of the danish people and the honest lubeckenaars so long oppressed. nicholas nering, a citizen of those parts, had sold to johannes krossen a farm with all its live stock and belongings, but, according to him, he had reserved for himself the foal of a handsome mare, if it should happen to be a colt, and a colt it turned out to be. at the period of its weaning, in , he claimed the young animal. krossen contested the claim. thereupon, according to the evidence of his step-son, peter klatteville, who was about fifteen, and whose evidence was recorded in the black register of the court, nering, not to be outdone, mounted his black horse, the lad trotting barefooted by his side, and both went at five a.m. to krossen's farm. nering got the colt out of the stables while the youngster kept watch. nering hid his spoil for three weeks at schwartz's, at the new mill, and after having made peter promise to keep the secret on the penalty of the most terrible punishment. different is the version recorded in the new register, written on parchment and bound in white sow's skin. "in , on the monday after _reminiscere_, nicholas nering, accused of pillage, has confessed before the court that riding along the frankische landstrasse, after passing the gate, he noticed three colts; that moved by a wicked inspiration, he had gone up to them and thrown the leash over one of these, and fastened it to the pommel of his saddle, and in that way brought it to his own stables. after having heard the above confession, it was decided to take nicholas nering outside the city and hang him on the gallows." nicholas nering's bad reputation did not dispose the council in his favour; hence all his friends had employed him to restore the colt in order to prevent the matter going into the courts, but he had proved obstinate. while he was in his cell, he repeated that he was indifferent to death, but that he deplored the calamities which his execution would entail. it was an evident proof of his having concocted a scheme of vengeance with his confidants. this became obvious enough after his death, when his kindred left the city and began setting fire to mills, homesteads and villages of the neighbourhood, and recruiting accomplices by sheer weight of money. two of these malefactors were taken at bart, and put on the rack. at stralsund they arrested ten individuals at once, among others, christian parow, the dean of the drapers, and johannes blumenow, the dean of the shoemakers. young peter klatteville confessed to having set the new mill on fire at the instigation of his mother, nering's widow. three were put on the rack; they declared having received of parow ten marks for committing the crime, and the ministers who conducted them to the execution had much trouble to make them retract the accusation in the presence of the crowd. the following is the version in the _annales_ of berckmann, one of the ministers: "this is what i have personally seen. when parow took his stroll in the market place, the raven of barber grellen ran to peck at his legs, so that parow considered it the best part of valour to quit the place. i am bound to admit, though, that this bird was in the habit of annoying the peasants who happened to wear wide linen breeches. parow, who was an old man, did not pay sufficient attention to his appearance as to have his breeches properly pulled up like those of his companions; hence, there is nothing to prove that providence made use of the raven to declare which kind of death parow deserved." berckmann is simply nothing more nor less than satan's slave when he tries to make parow odious. it is true that this worthy man signed and sealed the avowal of his forfeit; the act happened to fall into my hands when i was secretary of the city. i destroyed it, in that way saving an honourable family from future affronts, without causing any damage to the public welfare. besides, this concession was known to every one. it had in the opinion of those who gave themselves time to think the same value as that of burgomaster smiterlow branding himself as a traitor and an infamous creature. during the inquiry, everybody could see how incensed parow was with the nerings. if he did give them ten marks, it was because the money was extorted from him bit by bit by a certain smit who perished on the rack. nering's stepson klatteville even declares that parow came one day to his mother and had a long conversation with her. he does not know what parow said to her, but he seemed heartbroken at the behaviour of the nerings, for he wept like a child and went away weeping. in the draper's company no one ever objected to sitting next to him at table, except olaff lorbeer, a ridiculous personage, and the son of one of the principal faction-mongers. he always overwhelmed the good old man with his coarse allusions. johannes blumenow, condemned to death on tuesday, was only led to the scaffold on the following thursday. i saw the execution. the corpse remained on the wheel, wrapped up by means of a cord in the blue dress he wore every day. this was done in order to prevent the crows from going to work too quickly. this blumenow, a lively, though grey-haired fellow, the dean of the shoemakers, was the wealthiest of the forty-eight. he was very ambitious for the burgomastership which, he flattered himself, he could discharge better than any body. at the last burgomaster's banquet, that of nicholas sonnenberg, frau blumenow said to the matron next to her: "i did not wish to come, but i ought to know what to do when our turn comes to give the banquet." i have seen blumenow busy cleaning skins and during that time many a notable personage clad in furs bowed down before him with more respect than before any former burgomaster. berckmann attributes no other wrong to him than that of having induced nering to renounce his citizenship (that is honest enough); but, he insinuates they had made up their minds to ruin him because he had in his possession the famous act elaborated by the forty-eight. what a pity it is that berckmann sets so little store by the truth. who compelled him to commit so many foolish fabrications to paper? with a little trouble on his part he could have learnt that about forty years previously a priest had been assassinated in his dwelling. the murderer remained unknown until blumenow, being put to the torture, confessed to being the author of the crime. he had counted upon a big sum of money, but the victim did not possess more than a few pence. that, my very dear berckmann, was what brought blumenow to the scaffold. the sedition mongers had taken their precautions so well in the act of and in its appendix that, but for the nering lawsuits, the honest part of the community would have never had the joy of seeing their oppressors pay for their misdeeds. i have already recounted the pitiful end of rolof moller; the whole of his line was overtaken with similar punishment. his eldest son, george, who had been my schoolfellow at rostock, was only a stripling when he caught a nameless disease through frequenting a certain class of women. he wanted to play the young country squire, did little work and spent much. his stepfather took him away from his studies, and sent him to england to learn the language of the country, and then to antwerp, to get an insight into business. the young fellow, however, continued his spendthrift ways, and it became necessary to recall him. rolof moller's second son, for a mere trifle, stabbed in the open street his cousin with whom he had been drinking claret at an apothecary's. the name of moller is fated to be extinguished in a short time. what shall i say about burgomaster lorbeer, the instigator of the three riots, and especially of the third against smiterlow? everybody is aware of the contempt into which he fell even during his lifetime, and of the horrible malady that carried him slowly to the grave. after his death his wife and daughters still believed themselves to be the masters, as in the days when visiting an estate of the city they were greeted with the formula of reception, "be welcome, dear ladies, on thy lands," and when the passers-by hailed them with a "god preserve you, young and dear burgomasters." this deference had inflated their presumption to such an extent that they lost all respect for both the council and the law courts. they ended up by exhausting the divine patience. the master-miller nicholas hildebrand was not the least influential among the forty-eight. a busybody, self-interested, he meddled with everything that could bring water to his milldam. having had certain private reasons for retiring to wolgast, he intrigued so barefacedly as to compel the duke to imprison him; and inasmuch as nobody dreamt of interceding for him, he spent the whole winter in a cell. at his discharge his legs were frost-bitten and he was eaten up with vermin. another active and restless firebrand, the erewhile tailor marschmann, who came to wolgast to escape his creditors, kept hildebrand company the whole of the winter. knigge took to making false coin; but for doctor gentzkow, whose step-daughter he had married, the capital sentence passed on him would not have been commuted into banishment. christian herwig died in abject misery. they had given him the nickname of count christian, because in his prosperous days he strutted about in his best dress, one hand on his hip, and taking up the whole width of the street by himself. his wife became an inmate of the st. john's asylum. one of his daughters, a downright slattern, had to beg her bread and was found dead one morning; the rest vegetated in the most sordid conditions. nicholas loewe, a quarrelsome creature who tried to look like a captain in his white dress set off with red velvet, in the end considered himself lucky at the st. john's asylum to don the grey small clothes provided for him by charity. long before his death he became stone blind. his daughter anna was the talk of the town. i could easily extend this list, for, as far as i recollect, not one of those sedition-mongers escaped the punishment inflicted by the almighty on rebels unto the third and fourth generations. stralsund, there is no doubt, is likely to feel for a long while the pernicious effects of rolof moller; but just as history praises cambyses, that arch-tyrant, _monstrum hominis el vera cloaca diaboli_ for having ordered the death of the prevaricating judge and for having had his skin nailed on the judgment seat; so on one point, and on one only, are the sedition-mongers entitled to commendation. they replaced the banquets of the burgomaster and the councillors by presents of goldsmith's work or by a piece of silver. nowadays the city receives from the burgomaster a piece of silver-gilt; a councillor merely gives a piece of silverwork. the guilds have also done away with the banquets of reception and election. instead of foolishly wasting their money in gormandizing, the new dean or the new companion offers a present of silver which does duty at the fêtes and gatherings, so that nowadays the wooden and pewter goblets have made room for silver tankards. on twelfth night the council and the corporations make a display of their treasure, to show to the public that it is not only intact, but increased. after the tragedy of the passion comes the glory of easter day. nicholas smiterlow had suffered civil death; and among certain individuals on the magistrates' bench the password had gone round to prevent his resurrection. when, however, the disastrous issue of the war but too plainly confirmed the prophecies of the old burgomaster, the ironical nickname of "pacific" became the chief claim to his glory. councillors and burghers in plenary meeting assembled, dispatched two of the former to him with the request for him to repair to the town hall. burgomaster lorbeer tried to stop the mission by rubbing his arm and saying that the letter of avowal signed by smiterlow was a most indispensable document on that occasion, inasmuch as it was a question of annulling it. his attempt to redress the balance of his own game by a delay of twenty-four hours was a failure. his objection was simply put aside, and the secretary went at once to blumenow's for the said letter, together with the pact imposed by the forty-eight. when smiterlow entered the council-room all the burghers cried, "here is our beloved father, nicholas the pacific." he was conducted to his former seat, above lorbeer's; they begged him to give them the help of his experience, and they promised that henceforth he should be exempt from all missions and embassies. standing on the treasury chest, so as to afford a sight to everybody, the secretary tore the famous agreement into two, and detached smiterlow's seal from it. but the burghers were not at all satisfied, and shouted to him to stick his penknife into and to lacerate the letter of avowal in a similar fashion. and thus ended the domination of the forty-eight. faithful--perhaps too faithful--to his habit, the ex-augustine monk berckmann limns smiterlow in the falsest colours. he fancies he is using irony when he exclaims, "burgomaster nicholas smiterlow was a fine specimen of a man, conscious of his own worth, handsome, eloquent, prudent and wise, and enjoying much consideration from princes and nobles." it so happens that all this is simply so much bare truth, and added to all these merits, smiterlow had the fear of god and a wide knowledge of the scriptures. the _annales_ of master gerhard droege quote him as the oldest patron and protector of the evangelical ministries; hence, everything that berckmann writes in connexion with or about him is inexact. here is an instance. berckmann states that smiterlow was confined to his bed twelve weeks, while in reality he was taken ill one sunday and died the next tuesday, in . his son george, my junior by a twelvemonth, was burgomaster for twenty-two years. he had inherited all his father's virtues; he went through similar ordeals, and was vouchsafed the same comforts from on high, and i see no reason to modify my letter to duke ernest ludwig. that prince, egged on by the caballers of his court, exclaimed at the news of smiterlow's demise, "i had two enemies at stralsund. smiterlow is dead, and the devil will soon take sastrow." i wrote to his highness as follows: "gracious prince and lord,--the defunct burgomaster was neither bad naturally nor of base condition. his loyalty towards your highness and stralsund never failed, as could be proved by his numerous services. if he could have changed a farthing into a florin to the advantage of the city he would unquestionably have done so. neither he nor his ever cheated the treasury. hard-working, just and incorruptible, his speech expressing the feelings of his heart he, was a slave to duty, and severe or lenient as circumstances and persons dictated. not at all obstinate, he was particularly amenable to reason, for the public weal was his sole guide. he administered the law with the strictest impartiality. a foe to dissipation and excess, he led a useful and retired life; though frugal and saving, he never remained behind where honour demanded the spending of money. the greatest harmony prevailed between him, his wife, and his servants. though he had not pursued the ordinary course of studies, he was endowed with supreme wisdom. he had a most wonderful memory, and an equally wonderful gift of elocution. as a loyal subject, i can but address to god one prayer. the king of the persians, darius, prayed for as many zopyres as a pomegranate contains pips; may your highness be enabled to count as many smiterlows in the city and in the fields, not to mention the court; and while including the latter i wish to cast no reflection on any one. what then are we to think of those who dare to slander the defunct and to blacken his character in your highness' eyes, besides causing grief to his wife, his children and his friends?" everybody on the other hand would freely admit that rolof moller was overbearing, presumptuous, crafty, greedy, ungrateful, relentless, and turbulent. smiterlow and moller were so utterly different in character as to be unable to breathe the same air. at the council, in church, nay in the city itself, the presence of one was sufficient to drive away the other. great, therefore, was the surprise when george smiterlow married moller's niece. how would people, for whom the space of a large city seemed insufficient, agree under the same roof, at the same board, in the same bed? what strange _communicatio idiomatum_ was going to result from that marriage? hence, i should openly disadvise the election of such a smiterlow for the council, and least of all should i make him a burgomaster, for they have many more of their mother's than of the father's characteristics; _in hac lucta duarum diversarum naturarum_ the mollers appear to have had the advantage. nevertheless, this new generation is still sufficiently young to be susceptible of improvement. from the bottom of my heart i wish it may be so, for the sake both of its reputation and its welfare. i have written the foregoing pages somewhat oppressed by the thought of the ill-will i am drawing on my devoted head in praising smiterlow at the expense of rolof moller. the descendants of the latter will never forgive me. but i derive consolation and strength from the appreciation of educated men. they know that the historian's duty is to go straight for his aim, and to proclaim the truth, whether for good or evil, whether it pleases or displeases, and let come what may. i recommend to my children submission to the authorities, no matter whether pilatus or caiaphas governs. for the good of their soul and the welfare of their body they ought never to make pacts with sedition-mongers. chapter iv dr. martin luther writes to my father--my studies at rostock and at greifswald--something about my hard life at spires--i am admitted as a public notary--dr. hose my parents recalled me in , having discovered that at greifswald i more often accompanied my grandfather in his strolls than sat over my books. i attended school during the stay of a twelvemonth at the paternal home. one instance will show into what kind of hands the chief power had fallen. in , duke philip, travelling to rügen with his wife, made his first entry into stralsund, and burgomaster christopher lorbeer, who fancied himself to be the incarnation of eloquence, made the following speech to him: "philip, by the grace of god, duke of stettin, pomerania, of the cassubes and the wends, prince of rügen, and count of gutzkow, the council is indeed very pleased to see you. be welcome." in subsequent days i have often been chaffed about this speech; usher michael kussow, among others, never opened the door to me without crying out, the moment he caught sight of me, "and indeed philip, by the grace of god ..." my brother johannes had been admitted _magister_--the first of thirteen--at wittemberg, and on leaving he brought with him a letter from dr. luther to my father, who, in consequence of the bruser-leveling lawsuit, had stayed away for many years from the communion table. the letter was couched as follows: "to the honourable guildmaster, nicholas sastrow, my good friend: grace and peace be with you. your dear son, _magister_ johannes, after having expressed to me his sorrow at your having kept away for many years from the holy communion table--which absence is calculated to create a bad example--has requested me to rescue you from that dangerous path. not one hour of our lives in reality belongs to ourselves. his filial solicitude, therefore, induced me to send you these present lines. let me exhort you as a christian, as a brother, according to the precept of christ, to change your resolution, and well to remember the much greater sufferings of the son of god, who forgave his executioners. bear in mind that at your last hour you will be bound to forgive, as a brigand who is tied to the gallows forgives. wait for the decision of the court before whom your suit is pending, but do not forget that nothing prevents you from participating in the holy supper. if it were otherwise i myself and our princes would have to remain away from the holy board until our differences with the papists be settled. leave the matter in the hands of the law, and say to yourself for the comfort of your conscience: 'it is the judge's place to decide where lies the right; meanwhile, i forgive those who have wronged me and i will partake of the holy communion.' you consider yourself as having been wronged. you have had recourse to the courts; it is they who shall decide. nothing can be more simple. take in a friendly spirit this exhortation which was prompted to me at the instance of your son. may god watch over you, amen. wednesday after _miser. dni_. . martinus luther." [illustration: martin luther. _from a drawing by_ lucas cranach.] i trust my descendants will transmit religiously from generation to generation the autograph of the saintly man to whom the whole world owes gratitude and affection. together with this letter, and as a proof of the wise outlay of the paternal allowance, my brother brought home with him a number of his _poemata_ printed in a volume. my parents' means not admitting of his being maintained in a foreign land, he spent nearly four years at home, studying all the while. besides the _progymnasmata quaedam_, issued from the lubeck press in , he published in at rostock an _elegia de officio principis_ dedicated to duke magnus of mecklenberg; and in the same year at lubeck, a _querela de ecclesia_ and the _epicidion martyris christi doctoris ruberti barns_, which caused a good deal of trouble both to him and his printer.[ ] at the advice of my brother, my parents sent me to study at rostock with arnoldus burenius and henricus lingensis. my brother, who became intimately acquainted with the latter, wrote to him that i had already gone through the ceremony of initiation; but the students found out that since then i had gone back to school at stralsund, and each day my entrance at the _lectorium_ caused a fearful tumult.[ ] the _depositor_ having pulled me by my cloak, i hurled a large inkstand which i happened to have in my hand at him. the ink soaked his long grey mantle with black fastenings, a fashionable garment of the time. verily, i got my reward, when, for the sake of peace, i submitted a second time to the ordeal. it literally rained blows. the _depositor_ pressed my upper lip with his wooden razor and the wound was a long while healing, for no sooner did it close up than my food, and, above all, salted things inflamed it once more. the two _magistri_ directed in common the purses (scholarships or otherwise) of the arnsburg, which was the most numerous, as it consisted of thirty students. we took our meals at jacob broecker's, and we paid sixteen florins per annum for our breakfast and two other meals, _plus_, in the summer afternoons, some curdled milk or other refreshments. at the end of two years my parents complained of the expense involved in my stay at rostock; they were, moreover, displeased at my leaning towards theology. in fact, i felt neither old enough nor sufficiently advanced in learning to choose between the different faculties, but being unwilling to relinquish my studies i exposed my difficult position to my tutors, who at once decided to forego their fees, and also induced our host broecker to feed me for eight florins per annum. truly, i had to lay the table, attend at meals, to clear it, and in addition to this to look after young broecker, who was about my size and who was afterwards confined at ribbenitz, to dress and undress him, to clean his shoes and to arrange his books. on the other hand, there were certain services to be rendered to _magister_ h. lingenfis. i had to brush his shoeleather, make his bed, keep his room heated, accompany him to church and to other places, and to carry his lantern in winter. it seemed very hard to me at first not to be served any longer, and not to sit down to meals with my college chums, but there was no help for it. besides, we had fallen into good hands. arnoldus burenius read us twice cicero's _offices_, which he interpreted in a thoroughly artistic manner, and afterwards the orations _pro milone_, _pro rege deiotaro_, _pro marco marcello_, _pro roscio amerino_, _pro domo sua_, and the _de aruspicum responsis_, the _epistolae familiares_, the long and beautiful chapter _ad quintum fratrem_, the _rhetorica ad herennium_, etc. his colleague expounded terence, the _dialectica molleri_, even the _sphaera joannis de sacrobusto_, the _theoriae planetarum_, the _computum ecclesiasticum spangenbergii_, the _libellus de anima philippi_, and finally he presided over useful _exercitia styli et disputationum_. my bedroom fellows were franz von stetten and johannes vegesack, the nephew of the bishop of dorpat, who kept him on a grand footing, and allowed him the staff of servants of a grand seigneur rather than that of a youngster. vegesack practised all kind of sword-play, but i have heard that after the death of the bishop, he became a schoolmaster in livonia. my private tutor, danquart, coached him in the _praecepta grammaticae_, gave him themes to treat in german, and corrected his exercises. the money we received from our parents had to be handed to our tutor lingenfis; he gave it back to us as we needed it. we were bound to make notes of even our most trifling expenses. my tutors showed much interest in me, either out of consideration for my brother or because of my own unwearied application. i, on the other hand; served them zealously and faithfully, and was always at their bidding. the cross looks of my fellow-students, however, suggested the advisability of a change of residence; my brother counselled greifswald. in duke philip came to greifswald for the ceremony of receiving homage. the exiles came with him; some held the tail, others the harness of his horse. my father was specially invited by the prince to hold the stirrup. the duke took up his quarters at hannemann's, his wife with the stoïentins. frau stoïentin, her daughter, her grandson, and all the relatives, when doing obeisance to the princess, claimed the upholding of the decree of expulsion against my father. the duchess specially recommended two of her principal officers to transmit the request to her august spouse; but the latter's reply effectually prevented her from returning to the charge, and the gates of greifswald were reopened to my father. i left rostock in . my stay at home was, nevertheless, very short. i soon transferred myself and my books to greifswald, where i rented a room with joachim loewenhagen, the pastor that was to be of st. nicholas' at stralsund. master anthony walter who shortly afterwards became rector of the paedagogium of stettin, instructed me in the _dialectica caesarii_. master kismann explained and interpreted ovid's _fasti_. on christmas day, , a vessel hailing from colberg, and laden with barrels for falsterbo, anchored at stralsund. the coopers were in a great state of excitement, declared an embargo, and would not even allow the cargo to be sold at stralsund.[ ] in vain did the council guarantee proceedings against the purchaser of that merchandise; they went on agitating, refused to buy the barrels themselves, and replied with blows to those who spoke common sense. one burgher died from the consequences of their ill-treatment. they finally destroyed the barrels. five people were arrested. johannes vogt, their dean, fled to garpenhagen, but he was brought back to stralsund and placed under lock and key. there was but a narrow escape from the executioner's sword. the coopers were summoned to the town hall, where the prisoners made their appearance with the iron collar round their necks and their hands and feet fettered. the corporation was fined four marks per head. its privileges were withdrawn; it had, moreover, to rebuild at its own expense part of the city walls. i have already mentioned that my brother _magister joannes_, had various _poemata_ published at lubeck and rostock. from the latter city he returned by stage coach to stralsund in company of heinrich sonnenberg and a woman. by their side rode johannes lagebusch and a good-looking young man, hermann lepper, who had been to the mint at gadebusch to exchange old florins for new coin. that money was in the carriage. a gang of thieves, or rather highwaymen, got wind of the affair. in consequence of the mild laws of repression, these gentry swarmed throughout mecklenburg, and the names of the noblest families figured among them, which fact gave substance to the poet who wrote: nobilis et nebulo parvo discrimine distant, sic nebulo magnus nobilis esse potest. of course these lines do not apply to many honourable personages belonging to the nobility. but to return to my story. when the travellers had got beyond the village of willershagen they left the coach, and, provided with their firearms proceeded on foot, for the country was by no means safe. instead of prudently escorting the vehicle the two horsemen went on in front. the brigands came up with them and entered into conversation. suddenly one of them snatched the loaded pistol lagebusch was carrying at his saddle-bow--the fashion of carrying two had not come in--fired it at lepper, who was galloping back to the carriage, killing him there and then, while lagebusch set spurs to his horse in time to warn sonnenberg, who hid himself in the brushwood. my brother, armed with a pole, and standing with his back against the carriage to prevent an attack from behind, offered a stout and not unsuccessful resistance. he managed to wound in the thigh an assailant who, carried away by his horse, bit the dust further up the road. but another miscreant, charging furiously, sliced away a piece of my brother's skull as big as a crown (the fragment of bone that adhered to the skin was the size of a ducat), and at the same time dealt him a deep gash at the throat. as a matter of course, my brother lost consciousness; nay, was left for dead while the bandits sacked the carriage, caught the horse of their wounded comrade, but seeing that he could not be transported, abandoned him and decamped with their spoil. they, however, did not take the carriage team. in a little while sonnenberg emerged from his hiding-place, and, with the aid of the driver, hauled my brother into the carriage. the woman bandaged his head and kept it on her knees. lepper's body was placed between the legs of the wounded young man, and in that condition they reached ribbenitz, where the surgeon closed the gash in the neck by means of pins. the rostock council promptly sent its officials to the spot. the brigand was conveyed to the city, but almost immediately after his being lodged in prison, he died without naming his accomplices. there was, moreover, no great difficulty in finding them out, but their friends succeeded in hushing up the whole affair; the authorities acted very mildly. the dead robber was nevertheless judged and beheaded. his head remained for many years exposed on a pike. lagebusch brought the news to stralsund, and the council immediately offered my father a closed carriage with four horses. we started that same night, provided with mattresses, and reached ribbenitz next morning after daybreak. my brother was very weak. while the horses were stabled and after the court had drawn up a detailed report, we gave lepper an honourable and christian burial. we began our homeward journey at dusk, going slowly all through the night, and got to stralsund at midday. master joachim gelhaar attended to my brother, but in spite of his acknowledged skill, he did not succeed in curing the wound of the neck; the improvement of one day was counteracted the next. in the end they discovered that the surgeon of ribbenitz had closed the wound askew; the edges did not join, and one had been flattened by means of a large copper pin, the head of which had disappeared. master joachim repaired the mischief, not without causing great pain to his patient, who, however, promptly regained his health. after reading the _epicedion ruberti barns_, the king of england sent ambassadors to threaten lubeck, the book having been issued from johannes balhorn's presses. although the author had no connexion with the city, the council nevertheless apologized for him on the ground of his youth. he had simply aimed at giving a _specimen doctrinae_, but to pacify the king, balhorn was banished, and had to leave the city at sunrise. he was allowed to return a few months later. the costly bruser lawsuit had deprived my parents of the means of sending us to study in foreign countries, so they bought two horses and dispatched me and my brother to spires to watch the progress of the affair, and to do as best we could for ourselves. we started from stralsund on june , . our parents accompanied us as far as greifswald, where we stopped one day to bid good-bye to our grandmother and the rest of the family. i was in high spirits. johannes was dull and depressed. "dear son," said our mother, "why this sadness? look at bartholomäi, how gay he is." "my brother," replied johannes, "has no care weighing on his mind; he has no thought for the future." we made for stettin, then for berlin and wittemberg; in fact, "we rode straight on," as people say. at wittemberg, johannes ran against dr. martin luther, standing before the bookshop near the cemetery. dr. luther shook hands with me. philip melanchthon and other learned personages gave us letters of introduction to the procurators and advocates of spires. half-way between erfurt and gotha there is a big inn where we halted for half a day to rest our horses and to mend our clothes. we settled our bill before going to bed. next morning on reaching gotha my brother found he had lost his purse; he had left it under his pillow. it was a great misfortune, for we were not overburdened with means, and the look of the inn left but little hope of getting our own back again. immediately after my horse had had its feed, i retraced my steps, galloping all the way. when i reached the hotel i tied up my horse and in the twinkling of an eye ran up to the room with the servant at my heels. we both flung ourselves on the purse. i had the luck of laying hands on it first, but i fancied he was entitled to a tip. if either the girl or the young man had come near the bed after our going we should have never seen our money again. in spite of the gathering darkness, i was in the saddle again, for it would have been unwise to spend the night alone under such a roof. half a mile (german) farther there was a nice village, and as night had set in altogether i made up my mind to stop there. the inn was full of peasants. it happened to be sunday, and these worthy folk, who had noticed my riding by like possessed two hours before, said to each other: "well, we were mistaken after all. it's his highness' messenger." thereupon the host told the servant to look to my horse; nothing would induce him to let me do it myself. he, moreover, insisted on my sitting down to the table immediately; they brought me boiled and roast meats and excellent wine. the peasants in their turn show me all kinds of attentions, and when i mention the settlement of my bill before going to bed, the host declares that he could not hear of such a thing, and moreover swears by all his household gods that he'll not let me go in the morning without a good basin of soup, and that if i were to stay for a week he would not accept a farthing, because he could never do enough for his gracious prince. they put me into a very white and very soft bed, where i slept long and soundly. while i was enjoying every comfort, my poor brother was bemoaning his imprudence of having sent me to look for the purse. i did not know the country, the hotel had a queer appearance. i had not returned, although it had been settled that the town gates should be opened to let me pass. my brother's anxiety may therefore be readily imagined. he dispatched an express messenger with a description of myself, and that of the horse; the messenger passed the inn at the very moment i was starting. he recognized me and informed me of my brother's anxiety. at spires we put up at the _arbour_, and when our horses were sufficiently rested my brother sold them to the landlord of the _crown_. we could not afford, though, to stay at the inn, so we rented a small room with one bed, and with this we had to be content for more than five weeks. at meal times we went to eat three or four rolls under the city walls, after which we drank half a measure of wine at the tavern. the days when bartholomäi sastrow led the dance, and feasted at the big wine cellars like _könig arthur_ and the _rathskeller_ were over. philip melanchthon had recommended us to his half-brother, doctor johannes hochel, procurator, and to doctor jacob schenck, advocate at the imperial chamber. thanks to the latter, johannes found bed and board, _mensa splendida et delicata_ at the provost's of the chapter, a great personage occupying the handsomest mansion of spires, the habitual quarters of the emperor. this provost entertained daily a number of guests, but he himself lived upon fowl broth and apothecary's stuff prescribed by his doctor. he was fond of listening to the discussions of his guests, some of whom sided with luther and others with the pope. if, at the end of the debate, he now and again added a few words, it was simply to admit that he had never read "st. paul," but that, on the other hand, he had read in terence: "_bonorum extortor, legum contortor_." he was practically in the same boat with the bishop of wurzburg, who is reported to have said: "i thank heaven that i have never read 'st. paul,' for i should have become a heretic just like luther." on august , dr. hochel obtained a place for me at dr. frederick reiffstock's, one of the oldest procurators of the imperial chamber, a most learned lawyer and excellent practitioner, who was altogether unlike the majority of the procurators at spires. he had spent several years of his youth at rome as auditor of the "rote" (ecclesiastical jurisdiction). he was very conscientious and energetic. at the issue of the sittings, he immediately wrote to the party whose case had been called; then, the moment the minutes and other documents had been copied by his principal clerk, he sealed the whole, and deposited it in a large box on the table of his office. when this or that messenger came to announce his next departure the procurator examined the box to see whether there was anything to dispatch in that direction, and he marked on the outside wrapper the vail to be given according to the condition of the roads or their distance from the main ones. his practice was made up of princes, nobles, and eminent personages. one day he replied to duke albrecht of mecklenburg who had sent him a case, that, unless new facts could be adduced, he advised the withdrawal of the suit. the fees were nevertheless very considerable. the duke handed the case to dr. leopold dick, who allowed himself to be directed to the _juramentum calumniae_ and lost the whole affair. my master had four sons, all of whom took their doctor's degree. the three elder had returned, one from france, the two others from leipzig; hence i had three horses to take care of, and three rooms to keep heated. doctor reiffstock was determined i should not be idle. one day he placed before me a bundle of documents as thick as my hand but very well written. he told me to copy them, and then to collate them carefully with his second clerk. i was under the impression that it was a most important affair; when it was finished the procurator told me that he simply wished to give me something to do. on december , , an imposing deputation of the protestant states repudiated as suspect the imperial chamber, and declared its decisions and enactments null and void until its complete reformation. the procurators immediately reduced their staff, and dr. reiffstock dismissed me, which grieved me very much. as i foresaw, my parents would think me guilty of some grave misconduct, but a letter from johannes soon undeceived them. though a writer's place could easily be had away from spires, i would not leave my brother or the city before the termination of the lawsuit. we also hoped that the chamber would be reconstituted at the next diet. for all these reasons combined i entered into the service of my father's procurator, simeon engelhardt. i might as well have taken service in hell. dr. engelhard was an honest man, but he and his family belonged to the schwenkfeld sect.[ ] he had three daughters and a son between eight and nine whom i had to teach his declensions and conjugations. the matron of the establishment was a virago of the worst description, mean and bitter-spoken, who grudged her husband his food. often and often did i see her snatch the glass from his lips. people may think she did it for the best, lest he should get drunk. not in the least; she did that kind of thing at the family table; besides, his worst enemy could not have called him a wine-bibber. the pewter goblet of each child (there were two grown-up daughters) held about the contents of a pigeon's seed-box. the cup was filled once with wine, twice with mayence beer (an abominable concoction), after which you were at liberty to swill as much water as you pleased. as for the two servants and the two scribes, the pittance was meagre indeed. a piece of meat not as big as an egg, floating in beef tea pellucid to a degree. this was followed by cabbages, turnips, lentils, herbs, oatmeal porridge, dried potatoes, etc., even on fish days. at the end of the meal a goblet (?) of wine. whoever was thirsty after that--a by no means uncommon state of things--could go and pull the well-rope. truly, it would be difficult to say how much water i swallowed in that house. dr. simeon engelhardt had nearly as many lawsuits on hand as dr. reiffstock, about four hundred. each document was copied four times. the first remained with the principal bundle of papers, the second was sent to the client, the third and fourth went to the registry of the court which kept one, wrote the word "productum" on the other, and dispatched it immediately by the beadle to the procurator of the opposing party. there were two sittings per week, sometimes a third for fiscal cases. the copying of the protocol and of the acts imposed very hard work upon us. being only two clerks, there was no time, on court days, for swallowing a piece of bread. on the other hand, the mistress of the house took no notice of anything like that. what her daughters or the servant girls could have done, namely, laying the table, bringing the cold or hot water for washing up, clearing the table and getting rid of the dish-water; all this came to bartholomäi's share, whether he happened to be head over heels in other work or not, and the master of the house did not dare to utter a syllable. amidst the biggest stress of business, when we did without our meals, the lady cried across the yard: "bartholomäi, will you mind troubling yourself to come and throw the dish-water away?" and as if the satire was not obvious enough, she added: "look at the lazy scamp. he has not attended to the water at all." i was forbidden to go out without asking, even to call upon my brother. nor was this all. in the morning i saved the servant girls marketing; a basket slung on my arm like gretchen, i bought the provisions for the household; cabbages, turnips, bread, and what not, and when i came back there was faultfinding without end for not having haggled enough. on washing day, which came round too often to please me, i pumped the water. when the pump was out of order it was i who went down the well to repair the mischief. and i was not a child, but a young man of twenty-three. i was paying for the good times of stralsund. at each visit my brother was bewailing my fate and preaching patience. "in days to come, when you shall have a wife, children, and servants of your own, you will be able to tell them of your less happy days." when mistress engelhardt was in her "tantrums," she went about for a week without addressing a friendly word to her husband. at such periods her son solomon would come into the office to tell me that his father was a dissipated brute who had not slept with his mother for a week, etc., etc. the youngest of the girls fell ill and died; her mother put the corpse into a sack in guise of a coffin. an old crone carried it to the cemetery on her back. one can only hope that she dug a grave and placed her burden into it, for no one accompanied the dead child; no one superintended the burial. thanks to his capital practice, made up of the nobles and the cities paying him yearly retaining fees, thanks also to the avarice of this virago, dr. engelhardt easily put aside two thousand florins per annum. he lent money to the client-cities at interest. for two years running i made payments of two thousand florins each on a simple receipt. in , on his return from italy, the emperor hurried on his preparations for a war against the duke of juliers. ulm and augsburg cast some magnificent pieces of field artillery, with their carriages and wheels; and as it was considered easier to transport the carriages separately, a numberless troop of swabian carters was engaged. his imperial majesty stayed at spires, the artillery not being ready. autumn overtook him, and as the roads of the netherlands were very bad at that season, his majesty, to his great vexation, had to defer the attack. one day, being on horseback, he hustled a waggoner whose team proceeded too slowly to his taste, and spoke, moreover, very harshly to him. the swabian, who had no idea of the identity of his interlocutor, merely made a grimace and shrugged his shoulders. a smart rap with a riding crop from the emperor was the result. so far from submitting, however, the stubborn clown promptly belabours his assailant's head with his whip, uttering imprecations all the while: "may the thunder strike and blast you, you scum of a spaniard," and so forth. of course the emperor's suite laid hold of him, and he had to pay dearly for his mistake. not so dearly, though, as he might have done if the colonels entrusted with inquiries and the drawing up of the indictment had not purposely dragged the thing along to let the emperor's anger spend itself. charles had forgotten all about the affair. he probably thought that his orders had been carried out and that the swabian culprit was comfortably swinging from this or that gibbet, when the said colonels and captains humbly submitted the reasons for his being pardoned. there was first of all the ignorance of the waggoner, secondly the often excessive roughness of the spaniards towards these poor swabians. furthermore, there was the august leniency of all great potentates and the gratitude of which the army would feel bound to give proof, if it were exercised upon such an occasion as the present. the prince relented to the extent of deciding that the culprit should have his nose cut off in memory of the assault. the colonels and the captains expressed their respectful gratitude, and the condemned man learnt the commutation of his sentence with great joy. they cut off his nose flush with his face. he bore the operation with a good grace, and for the remainder of his life sang the praises of the emperor. for many years he could be seen urging his cattle along the roads between the rhine and the danube. i happened to come several times into contact with him at the inns. i asked him before other travellers about the nature of the accident that had cost him his nose, whether he had left it in the french country. "nay, nay," he replied, and with great glee recounted his adventure, showering blessings on his imperial majesty. while the emperor was warring in africa, martin van rosse[ ] profited by the diversion to work his own will in the netherlands. he had, for instance, imposed a ransom on antwerp on the penalty of burning it to the ground. his majesty, having learnt that he was conducting the expedition as a landsknecht, felt curious to get a glimpse of this personage. martin van rosse was warned too late; the emperor was already there. he pulled up his horse before the rebel. the latter, dropping on his knee, begged that the past might be forgotten, and swore to shed his last drop of blood for the emperor, who touched him lightly with his stick on the shoulder, and forgave him everything. "we forgive you, martin," he said, "but do not begin again." on february , , the diet was opened at spires. i have heard it said that the elector palatine lewis always endeavoured to dissuade his majesty from choosing that town, because his _mathematicus_ had predicted that he should die at spires. in consequence of this, perhaps, he presented himself in person to the emperor at the very beginning of the session, and at the end of a few days took his leave to return to heidelberg, where he died on march . in default of a church, the elector of saxony had religious service performed in a tavern where he had put up a seat for the ministers. lutes, fifes, cornets, trumpets and violins, instead of an organ, constituted a most agreeable concert. the elector's horse was a most robust animal, and there was a stepping stone attached to his saddle. on the eve of maundy thursday at sunset twenty-four flagellants of both sexes marched by in their shirts, their faces covered with pieces of stuff into which were cut holes for their eyes and mouth, their backs sufficiently bare for the birch provided with steel-pointed hooks to touch the flesh. it was a hideous spectacle, the hooks tearing pieces of flesh away, and causing the blood to trickle down to the ground. the penitents advanced very slowly, one by one, in two single files, divided as it were by spanish gentlemen of high degree, each carrying a thick wax candle. the whole street was lighted with them. when they reached the church of the barefooted carmelites the procession fell on its knees and dragged itself from the porch to the crucifix in the choir in that way. near the entrance the surgeons dressed the wounds; rumour had it that two corpses were carried away. the emperor washed the feet of twelve poor men; the king of the romans did the same. care had however been taken to ascertain that those people were in good health; nay, their feet had been washed beforehand. the two sovereigns with napkins round their waists merely dried the feet, after which they waited upon the poor at table. "friends," they cordially said to them, "eat and drink." like all gatherings of eminent personages, this diet entailed a rise in the prices of food, but especially of fish. a rhine salmon cost sixteen crowns; for half of one the purveyor of the duke of mecklenburg paid eight crowns. a spanish gentleman who had taken up his quarters with an amiable widow who was looking to his comfort, became imbued with the idea that she would not refuse him her favours; so one night he crept into her bed; but the widow having got hold of a knife plunged it into his body and killed him there and then. of course, she did not know how to get rid of the body; but though certain of her own ruin, she did not stir from her home. her anguish at the prospect of the consequences had reached its height when the emperor, informed of the real state of the case, sent to reassure her. the spaniards came to take the body of their countryman, and to perform the last duties to it. on march , , the emperor granted the privilege of a coat of arms to my brother johannes, and conferred the title of poet laureate[ ] on him, in recognition of a poem dedicated to him. johannes stigelius also offered the emperor a _scriptum poeticum_. his majesty replied to him through the pen of his vice-chancellor, seigneur jean de naves: "_carmen placet imperatori; poeta petat, quid velit habebit; si voluerit esse nobilis, erit; si poeta laureatus, erit id quoque; sed pecuniam non petat, pecuniam, non habebit._" it might serve as a warning to stralsund not to lavish its money on the first comer who thinks fit to dedicate some poor rhymes to it. on may , , i was made a notary by imperial diploma. prelate otto truchess, of waldburg, bestowed upon my brother a gold chain for a _carmen gratulatorium_ on the occasion of his recent installation in the see of augsburg. doctor christopher hose, ex-procurator and advocate of stralsund, who had been struck off on account of his evangelical faith, had built himself a handsome residence at worms. he came to spires during the diet. a veteran practitioner, a straightforward and agreeable man, he was a favourite with his colleagues, and especially with the young ones. he was, however, highly esteemed by everybody, and nobody minded him exposing the astute moves of his adversaries. a learned doctor had invited him and several colleagues, master engelhardt among the number. when i got there with my lantern to escort my master home, the evening cup was being poured out, and whether i liked it or not, the host and dr. hose, who were acquainted with my family's circumstances, made me sit down at the lower end of the table and offered me cakes, pastry, etc. thereupon master engelhardt got up brusquely and wanted to go. "seeing that my servant is sitting down, i had better go. at any rate i shall not sit down again unless he remains standing to attend to me," he said. dr. hose, however, went on with his little speech to me. "look you here, pomeranian," he remarked, "the words 'procurator at the imperial court' are simply synonymous with those of hardened rogue, and that is the gist of the matter." (the latter was a favourite interjection of his.) "at your age," he went on, "i was also with a procurator who run up costs very heavily with his clients without doing much for them. now, just listen to this story. a franconian gentleman entrusted a most important case to my master, gave him a considerable retaining fee, and promised him another big sum at the end of the year. when the case had been put upon the rolls, the procurator put the documents relating to it into a bag, showing the names of the parties to the suit in large letters; after which he suspended the bag in the usual way with many others in the registry room with which you are familiar. at the end of the year he claimed his fees, announcing at the same time the termination of the suit and his hurrying on of the judgment. the client added to the sum agreed upon a gratification and a present for us, the engrossing and copying clerks. nevertheless, he fancied the affair was dragging along, and one fine day he came to spires and rung at our door, and on its being opened my master a once recognized the visitor. you are aware that procurators generally have their own rooms facing the door, in order to see who came in and went out. thereupon my master runs to the registry chamber, takes down the bag in question, and places it on the table. after which he has the franconian shown in, receiving him very cordially, imbuing him at the same time with the idea that he never loses sight of his documents. he also tells him that he was constantly demanding the execution of the judgment, but that he will insist still more strongly, and will send an express to his noble client. the latter departed exceedingly satisfied, after having offered a rich gift to the procurator's lady. well, as a fact, the lawsuit was not even in its first stage. "take my word for it," he went on, "the procurators of the imperial chamber are past-masters of trickery, and that's the gist of the matter. if you have made up your mind to practise at spires, pomeranian, you must provide yourself with three bags: one for the money, one for the documents, and the third for patience. in the course of the suit you will see the purse get flatter, the documents grow bigger, and patience desert altogether; but you will comfort yourself with the thought that the emperor writes to you: 'we, charles v, by the grace of god roman emperor, perpetual aggrandizer of the germanic empire, king of spain, the two sicilies, jerusalem, hungary, dalmatia, etc., assure our dear and faithful bartholomäi sastrow, of our grace and goodwill.' think of the pleasure and the honour of receiving that missive, while you are sitting in the inglenook amidst your family. assuredly it is money well spent." that was the manner of dr. hose's discourse. the diet dissolved. king ferdinand with his two sons, maximilian and ferdinand, reconducted the landgrave. at their return there was a terrible storm, accompanied by hailstones as big as hazel nuts. in spires itself several hundred florins worth of windows were broken. the cavalry, hussars and royal trabans fled panic-stricken; it was nothing less than a general rout, and the gathering darkness increased the confusion. the runaways only reached spires after the gates were closed, and lay down in the outer moats in order to save their lives. king ferdinand appeared on the scene, absolutely alone. he called and knocked, shouted his name, and finally succeeded in finding some one who recognized him, when of course the gates were thrown open, and they sped towards him with many torches. the first question of the king was about his sons; nobody had seen them come up. thereupon more confusion, shouting, questioning, and contemplated saddling of horses; but just in the nick of time the princes rode up, escorted by a small number of men. the trabans pleaded mortal danger in excuse for their neglect of duty, and their wounds in fact confirmed the plea, for the king, having made them strip, could see how the hailstones had literally riddled their bodies. all declared that their mounts no longer answered the bit. the reconstitution of the imperial chamber was adjourned. i should have regretted returning to the paternal roof before our lawsuit was in a fair way of being settled; on the other hand, life at master engelhardt's was intolerable in consequence of his accursed wife, who was a fiend incarnate. her dreadful character inspired me from that day forward with an aversion for petticoat government, and i am likely to preserve it until i draw my last breath. my father's interest dictated resignation, for my stay at spires in hurrying up affairs also saved expenses of procedure and of correspondence, the latter of which threatened to be heavy now and again, when a messenger had to be dispatched to stralsund. i was sufficiently versed in the scribal art and in high-german to find employment elsewhere. i was offered a post at the chancellerie of the margrave ernest of baden and hochberg, landgrave of sansenberg, overlord of roetteln and badenweiler, etc., whose residence was at pforzheim. it was only six miles (german) distant from spires, and i accepted. i and my fellow-scribe had been constantly engaged in engrossing deeds. as a rule these were petitions addressed either to the emperor or to some prince in behalf of the jews of swabia or of the palatinate, who paid largely. our master left us free in that respect. he knew that we were not inclined to work for nothing. eager to earn money we even encroached upon our hours of sleep in order to get all the possible benefit of the diet. we had, furthermore, the tips of clients in return for our promise not to neglect their affairs. the receipts were dropped into a solid iron box, secured to the window of the office. dr. engelhardt kept the key of it. we estimated the treasure at a hundred crowns, and looked forward with joy to its division. when i was about to leave, the procurator came into the office, opened the box in my presence, and emptied it. we gloated over the admirable collection of florins, crowns, and other specimens of beautiful german and welch coinage. master engelhardt gave me a crown, another to my fellow-clerk, and pocketed the rest. stupefied and dumbstricken we saw him walk away with the proceeds of our vigils and our labour. no! dr. hose did not libel master engelhardt. chapter v stay at pforzheim--margrave ernest--my extreme penury at worms, followed by great plenty at a receiver's of the order of st. john--i do not lengthen this summary, seeing that but for my respect for the truth, i would willingly pass over many episodes in silence my brother accompanied me as far as rheinhausen. from thence i got to bruchsall, the residence of the bishop of spires, then to heidelsheim, brettheim, and at last to _patria philippi_, pforzheim. i entered upon my duties at the chancellerie on june , . my brother johannes went with his master to the baths of zell, where he met with an honourable, young, and good-looking girl from esslingen. the young girl's guardian and her kinsfolk (licentiates, the syndic of esslingen, and other notables) allowed the couple to plight their troth, subject to the consent of our parents. it was agreed that my brother should proceed to italy to get his doctor's degree, that he should get married on his return, and take his wife with him to pomerania. johannes asked me to go to esslingen to see the young girl and her family; her birth, character and dowry left nothing to desire. we wrote home each on his side; my parents opposed a categorical refusal. after that i never saw my brother really in good spirits. the young girl married a wealthy goldsmith of strasburg. when my mother informed us that she and her husband gave their consent, it was, alas, too late. poor johannes, undermined by regret, was visibly wasting away. pforzheim is not a large place, and it has only one church. the town lies in a hollow amidst smiling plains, watered by a clear, health-giving stream, swarming with delicate fish. it is a charming place in the summer. the neighbouring lofty mountains are covered with dense, almost impenetrable forests full of game. though lying in a valley, the castle commands the town. there are among the population a great many learned, modest, pleasant and well brought-up men. all the necessities of life, both in good and bad health, are at hand: apothecaries, barbers, innkeepers, artisans, etc.; in addition to these there are the canticles and sermons of the evangelical religion. the life at court was conducted on economical principles, but on a very decent footing, however, and without the slightest attempt at parsimony unworthy of a prince. yet the difference between their usages and those of pomerania was great. the meals consisted of meat, fish, vegetables, dried figs, oatmeal porridge, cabbages and a fair ration of bread, and in a pewter goblet some ordinary wine, unfortunately in insufficient quantity, especially in summer. the counsellors were, however, served a second time. there was always plenty of work; there was a secretary of seventy, and a chancellor not much his junior, and the most morose of all doctors of law. in margrave ernest concluded a pact of succession with his nephews; the negotiations were only waiting for an exchange of deeds. i was entrusted with the engrossing of one copy. the text was so long that it would scarcely hold on one skin of parchment; it was, therefore, necessary to write very close and small. i was rather frightened, for the chancellor was difficult to please; one might scrape and scratch till the erasure was invisible; he would light a candle in plain daylight, hold the deed before the flame, find out the flaw, and tear up the document while giving a strong reprimand. i had been working at that copy for forty-eight hours, when all of a sudden an omission of at least a line struck me all at once. i had never been in such an awkward position in my life. i might count on several days' imprisonment; the only thing that could save me was a stratagem. the castle was on the heights, the chancellerie at the foot of them in the town itself. when the bugle sounded for dinner i stopped behind till everybody was gone; then in the twinkling of an eye i got hold of a cat, dipped its tail into the ink, and let it loose on the skin of parchment; the deed was all smeared over, the marks of the animals feet as distinct as possible. i shut it up and went to my meal. when it was over i let my colleagues go first; as they opened the door the cat flew at them, and on the table they caught sight of its latest masterpiece. at that moment i entered, and they showed me the disaster, explaining at the same time how the cat "went" for them. naturally i played at being in despair, equally naturally they all tried to comfort me, and thus i came with flying colours out of what threatened to be an ugly scrape. whenever a condemned man was led to execution, margrave ernest made him come to him in order to reconcile himself with him. after having asked pardon of him for his compulsory sternness, he recommended him to show himself firm and bold, the blood of jesus christ having been shed not in order to save the righteous, but the unjust. then he shook hands with him, and the wretched man was led away. the margrave had his apartments right over the principal entrance of the castle, so as to see everybody that came in or went out. one day he caught sight of the head cook taking away such a magnificent carp that its tail showed from under his cloak. "just listen," exclaimed his highness; "the next time you rob me, either take a carp less big or a longer cloak." while they were putting wine in his highness's cellar, two cooks who were going into the town passed by; one had a couple of capons stuffed away in his belt. the margrave called them to lend a hand, and wishing to be quick they flung off their cloaks. the scamp was not thinking about the birds, which began to peck at his arms while he was pulling the rope; thereupon they called all the serving wenches out to enjoy the spectacle. there is no need to add that they were the laughingstock of them all. as there was to be a diet at worms, i was anxious to have an interview with my brother. in order to save time i hired a trotter, which carried me in a day to spires, and back the next morning to pforzheim. the return journey, though, nearly cost me my life. i was leaving the hotel of brettheim when i was hailed by a horseman coming out of another inn. "whither are you going?" he asked. "to pforzheim." "that's capital; that's my road; we'll ride together." a mile farther on a side path of which i knew enabled us to cut across the country, but at its other end they had put down four poles. instead of turning back i urged my horse, which at first puts a forepaw betwixt the poles; it does not free itself in time, gets its hind leg in the wrong place, and finally falls on its left side. my companion shouts to me to catch hold of the animal's head to prevent its moving; then he jumps down himself, unbridles and unharnesses my mount, and after having told me to leave go its head, starts it with a smart stroke of his riding whip, while i am on the ground seated in my saddle, and with one spur caught in the belly-band. had i been alone and without divine help, i should have been dragged along and dashed to pieces. when all danger was over, the horseman told me that our roads parted on that spot. in vain did i remind him of his intention to go to pforzheim; he wished me good-night, recommending me to the care of god and all his angels. i was anxious to offer him a finger's breadth of wine at the next inn; he declined my offer, on the pretext that its acceptance would cause too great a delay. i shall never cease to believe that my saviour was a holy angel. johannes approved of my intention to leave pforzheim for worms, where the diet would most probably proceed with the reconstitution of the imperial chamber. then would be the right moment to return to spires. the margrave when i left, sent me half a golden florin, besides a court dress. all at once there grew under my right nostril a pustule as big as a grain of barley; i punctured it frequently, and there came more blood from it than one could have imagined, but the kind of tumour did not disappear, not even when the surgeon whom i consulted cut it. it kept growing again, so, in order to destroy its root, as he said, he rubbed it with what i suppose was _aqua fortis_, for it caused me a horrible pain. i suffered most when going to spires, owing to the cold and the wind; my nose swelled enormously. on april my brother accompanied me to hütten, a mile and a half distant from spires. there we parted, weeping bitterly; we had a presentiment that we should never see each other again, or even write. next morning johannes started for italy. his imperial majesty being detained in the netherlands with gout, the king of the romans opened the diet of worms on march , . only a small number of princes came, so the emperor, when he arrived, prorogued the diet until the next year. the spiteful, impious and fiendish wife of procurator engelhardt had made my life at spires a misery, but at worms i suffered hunger and thirst and all the wretchedness of downright distress. i wish this to be remembered not only by my children, but by all those who happen to read me. i carried the whole of my belongings upon me, namely: the court dress given to me at pforzheim, two shirts, a sword with a silver tip to its sheath, and the six florins the margrave had sent me, the whole constituting but a scant provision. the absence of the emperor interfered with my livelihood; there was little work to do for copyists, and under those unfavourable conditions i stayed for twelve weeks. a canon, brother to johannes' employer, gave me shelter during the first fortnight, after which he left for mayence. the envoy of the dukes of pomerania, maurice domitz, captain of ukermünde, who knew my family very well, put, it is true, his purse at my disposal, knowing as he did that he would be reimbursed at stralsund; the syndic of lubeck was also at worms with franz von sitten, my rostock chum; neither the one nor the other would have refused to do me a service; borrowing meant, however, imposing new sacrifices upon my parents, so i preferred to suffer privation. my nose caused me severe pain for a long while; when it gave me some respite, my mornings and afternoons were spent in walks, either with my countrymen from mecklenburg, pomerania or lubeck, or with the friends i had made in worms. nobody had any idea of my being as poor as i was. at the dinner hour, when everybody repaired to the inn, i bought a pfenning's worth of bread, and the public fountain supplied the drink gratis; it was very rare that i took a little soup with a piece of meat as big as an egg in it, at the eating house. the owner of the establishment allowed me, in consideration of a kreutzer, to spend the night on a wooden seat; a bed would have cost half a batz (a batz was equal to about a penny of those days), and the wooden seat seemed preferable, inasmuch as i had sufficient "live stock" of my own, without picking up that of others. i sold the silver tip of my sword sheath, an iron tip as it seemed to me, to meet all my requirements. i subsequently disposed of one of my two shirts for what it would fetch; the six florins had melted away, and i wanted the wherewithal to buy dry bread. when my remaining shirt was dirty i went to wash it in the rhine, and waited in the sun while it was drying; all this was so much money saved, no cost of laundry, soap, ironing or pleating. my small clothes fell on my heels; i myself could no longer repair them. the "snip" at worms would have asked not less than a batz; at spires, on the other hand, it would have been done for half the price. so i made up my mind to go to spires. i only reached the outer fortifications after the closing of the gates. dying with hunger, thirst and fatigue, i lay down in the moat where i almost perished with cold. next morning, at the tailor's, after having undressed, i sat huddled up all the while he was mending my clothes. i went back to worms at a "double quick," having done twelve miles to save half a batz. the constant want of nourishment had made me weak, and with my blood in a bad state, incapable of holding a pen if i had found any copying to do. my distress was at its worst when one of my kindest acquaintances the secretary of the bishop of strasburg, informed me that being in need of a writer, he was going to recommend me to his master, but the prelate said no because pomeranians professed the evangelical religion. finally, through the good offices of the secretary of the order of st. john, the chancellor succeeded in getting me a place at the receiver's of the said order. great indeed, was the deliverance, and joy reigned in my heart instead of despondency. it was only later on that my eyes were opened to the dangers of my new condition. on july , , then, christopher von loewenstein, receiver of the order of st. john for lower and upper germany (he had been present at the taking of rhodes by the turks), engaged my services as a scribe. he promised me a complete dress and boots, such as his other servants received, but he did not stipulate the amount of my salary; he gave me to understand, though, that i should have no reason to grumble. the function of receiver consisted in collecting the revenues of the various commanderies on account of the knights of rhodes actually at malta. at the demise of a commander, the receiver takes possession of the property of the defunct, and despatches it with the ordinary interest by means of bills of exchange to the grand master of the order, who at that time was a frankish gentleman, don jean de homedes. the grand master confers for life the vacant benefice upon this or that knight who has distinguished himself before the enemy. the right of installing the new commander belongs to the receiver, who derives enormous profits from his office. my master had, moreover, seven commanderies of his own; he was, therefore, perfectly justified in having eight horses in his stable like a great noble. he gave me the money to take the coach to oppenheim, whence i was to proceed by water to mayence, where he himself was to make a stay of several days. mayence, frankfurt and niederweisel were the three commanderies which most often required his personal attention. niederweisel is an imperial town of the wetterau, between butzbach and fribourg. herr von loewenstein spent the greater part of the year in a magnificent dwelling, replete with every imaginable comfort; spacious dwellings kept in excellent condition had been erected around a vast court; granges, stables, riding school, brewery and bakery, kitchens, atop of which were the refectory and the servants' quarters; at one end of the court the master himself occupied a handsome room and dressing-room, affording an uninterrupted view of the whole. a deep moat crossed by a drawbridge ran round the structure. and i, after having wanted the strictly necessary at worms, found myself suddenly wading in plenty. the effect of the abrupt change of fortune may easily be imagined. though short in height, my master had won his benefices by his bravery at the siege of rhodes. in his riper age he remained the soldier he had been in his youth. daily feasting, succulent cheer, washed down by copious libations--a numerous company always around him--his revenues enabled him to lead that kind of expensive existence. the commandery being on the high road, landsknecht and horseman, sure of liberal entertainment, regularly made a halt there; the neighbours themselves were not more sparing with their visits; in short, gaming, feasting and drinking took up all the time. the commander had practically a concubine under his own roof. he chose her with an eye to beauty, dressed and adorned her according to his means; when he wished a little more freedom, he married her to one of his equerries, gave her a home at butzbach, and provided her against want. butzbach being within a stone's throw of niederweisel, he reserved to himself the option of seeing her when he liked. in my time, he lived with marie koenigstein, the daughter of the defunct town clerk of mayence; she was, moreover, his god-daughter, and by her father's will his ward. beauty, education, excellent manners, kindliness: all these and many other qualities were hers. why had she not met with a more staid and sober guardian? she was about eighteen, when one fine day the commander came to mayence in a closed carriage, sent for the young girl, told her to get in for a few moments and drove her as fast as the horses would carry them to neiderweisel. so effectually did he hide her that for seven or eight weeks her brothers and relations did not know what had become of her. finally, by dint of gifts, the commander succeeded in mollifying the brother, whom he sent to the grand master of the order. as for marie, she had everything she could wish for in the matter of silken gowns, gold-embroidered cuffs and sable furs. i was lucky enough to find favour with the commander. every peasant-tenant of the seven commanderies held his homestead on a lease; and i had a crown for each renewal. i wore a dress like that of the equerries. madame marie looked to my shirts, handkerchiefs and night-caps and kept them in good condition. a nice well furnished room, close to the drawbridge did duty both as a bedchamber and study. i had my meals at the commander's board with his guests, marie, the chaplain and the three equerries. well fitting clothes, a sword with a silver sheath-tip, and a golden ring on my little finger contributed greatly to transform me into a young gallant; my pitiful figure of worms was completely transformed; i improved physically and found favour in the eyes of the fair. as for my duties, they were not very heavy; the only commanderies that gave us trouble now and again were those of the landgrave of hesse; they grudgingly settled their dues in consequence of the antipathy of the landgrave, for my master, who did not worry himself much about religious matters, was neither a papist nor a lutheran, only knight of the order. the intrigues of the court compelled herr von loewenstein, therefore, to summon the hessian commanderies before the tribunals; and the results, as far as i was concerned, were frequent journeys to cassel and to the chancellerie of marburg. the commander had a rich collection of bits, bridles, saddles and saddle-cloths; he kept three equerries, though only one bore that title; the stable held seven or eight young stallions from friesland that had been bought at the frankfort fair. when the commander went out on horseback, a frequent occurrence, i accompanied him with the equerries; he made us change our mounts each time and entrusted us with horses costing between sixty and seventy, while he himself only rode an indifferent cob not worth half-a-score of florins. his horses were all of the same colour; when he grew tired of that colour he sold the cattle at half-price or gave them away, just to get rid of them. on one occasion he fancied a good ambling animal; he had happened to meet with a dappled grey, strong, clean-limbed and a capital pacer. it was valued at a hundred crowns; he, however, soon afterwards offered it to the elector of mayence who was very anxious for it and reserved it for his personal use. the commander kept a fool of about eighteen, but who had been downright mad from the day of his birth. on one occasion the fellow entered his master's room and told him that he had been embracing the cowherd's daughter in the shed. he spoke out plainly without the least disguise. "after dinner, we mean to begin again in the same spot," he added. "beware of st. valentine's evil," said the commander. "yes, sir, at the stroke of twelve, at the grange; your grace will be able to bear witness to it." the commander hurried up and arrived _opere operato_. he sent to friburg for the operator and signified his sentence to the fool who kicked against it. the commander, however, promised him a pair of crimson boots. "true, will your grace give me your hand on the promise?" said the idiot. the commander gave him his hand; thereupon the fool exclaimed: "come, master johannes, make haste." the operator stretched him on a bench, where the other servants kept him motionless, for at the first cut of the razor he began to resist. master johannes proceeded quickly and surely.[ ] ... the patient remained for nine days on his back on a narrow couch, bound hand and foot so that he could not move an inch. the commander had given instructions to treat him with every care. master johannes very soon deemed the fool sufficiently recovered to get rid of him, but at the commander's wish he kept him for some time longer in his room to the great annoyance of master johannes' young and good-looking wife; the latter had a strong objection to the fool's telling all sorts of tales about herself and her husband, on whose doings he spied night and day. he became a great nuisance, for in spite of his operation he grew fat and saucy, and at the death of the commander, landgrave philippe sent for him to come to cassel. the chaplain was a fine specimen of the young debauchee. instead of preaching the pure doctrine of luther he performed mass twice a week in the chapel of the commandery. to get to the chapel he had to go through the servants' refectory just at breakfast time. he simply sat down, got hold of a spoon and dipped it into the soup. "master johannes," said we, "you know it is forbidden to eat before the mass?" "nonsense," he replied; "the saviour gets through bolts and locks; the soup won't stop him." herr von loewenstein owned an old ape, a strong customer, who could get into formidable passions. the animal, which was kept on a chain, would only allow its master, the baker and myself, to come near it. most dangerous was it when showing its teeth, as if laughing. when i sat down within its reach, i dared not get up without its leave; perched on my shoulder, it amused itself by scratching my head, and i had to wait till it got tired; then i shook hands with it and i was allowed to go. one day a landsknecht, a handsome, well built fellow, tempted by the prospect of a good meal, came into the commandery. he carried a javelin, and the ape, who unfortunately was free of his chain, jumped at him, and after having wrenched the weapon from him, bit him in several places that it was most pitiful to see; after which it crossed the moat, climbed to its master's window, opened it, and made its way into the room. with one glance the commander perceived that the animal was in a rage; he endeavoured to soothe it with kindly words. it so happened that a silver dagger was lying near the window sill; our ape ties it round its waist; thereupon the commander gently draws the weapon from its sheath, plunges it into the animal, and notwithstanding its bites, holds it pinned down until the breath is out of it. there is no denying that an ape is a terrible creature when it gets on in years and grows big. after the harvest our master wished to go partridge-hawking, for his hawks were well trained. as his dapple-grey was being brought round--the one that ambled so capitally--the unexpected visit of several strange horsemen interrupted the party; the commander gave me his hawk, telling me to go without him. just as i am getting my right leg over the saddle the bird beat its wings, the horse frightened, gets out of hand of the groom, and i am caught in the stirrup; more concerned for the hawk than for my safety, i drop backward, the horse continues to plunge, drags me along, kicking me all the while, the commander and his frightened guests looking powerlessly on. luckily my shoe and my left hose give way and stick to the stirrup, while i am left on the ground, with nothing more serious, though, than a couple of swollen limbs. nevertheless, on that day i had a very narrow escape from death. the elector of saxony and the landgrave of hesse constantly raising levies against the duke of brunswick, the commandery swarmed with colonels and captains.[ ] they offered me the post of secretary; the arrangement was, in fact, concluded, but i did not wish to go except with the consent of the commander. he granted me my leave, though giving me to understand that i should not expect to return to his service after the war. and inasmuch as the war was to be a short one, the warning gave me food for reflection. the winter was coming on; i certainly had no wish for a repetition of my privations at worms. i remained, for the following lines recurred to my memory: _si qua sede sedes, et erat tibi commoda sedes illâ sede sede, nec ab illâ sede recede_. several companies of landsknechten were reviewed; and nothing could have been more diverting than to watch the inspector examine the weapons and the shape of the men, their dress and their gait. he made them march past him rather twice than once. how each man tried to hide his shortcomings, and how those who were "passed" as fit blew themselves, and swaggered and talked loud and boastfully like the hirelings they were. the war came to an end on october , with the capture of duke henry of brunswick and his son, charles victor; his second son, philippe, hastened to rome to ask for help of the pope. at the autumn fair herr von loewenstein took up his quarters at frankfurt with the whole of his household for six weeks. my old chum, franz von stiten, coming across me once more, i told him everything about my position, and when i had given him the address of the house of the knights of st. john, he arranged to come and pay me a visit one morning before the commander was stirring. and, in fact, he came, and had a long conversation with marie, to whom he gave particulars about my parents, birth, and family circumstances. the information still further disposed the damsel in my favour; in short, i am bound to confess that i lost all claim to the meritorious reputation of joseph the chaste. since then i have acknowledged my sin to the almighty, and i have sufficiently expiated it during my journey to rome to count upon my pardon; besides, amidst the privations, dangers and trials which i am about to relate, however just the punishment may have been, the divine mercy has never failed me, sending me protection and deliverance as it did in its admirable ways. while my master drank and gamed with his guests (he was rarely alone, and in frankfurt less than elsewhere) i read, in the quietude of my own room, the _institutes_, which i nearly always carried about with me. in vain did herr von loewenstein tell me again and again not to expect to become a doctor of law while i was with him. i did not fear any opposition from that quarter. in february my master having been summoned to spires, the habitual residence of the superior of the order for germany, only left marie and myself behind at mayence. a letter from my parents, telling me of the death of my brother in rome, made me decide upon my journey to rome. there was not the slightest trace left of the sufferings i had undergone at worms; my health was excellent, i had a well-stocked wardrobe, and my purse was fairly lined. on the other hand, the loose morals of the knights of st. john were calculated to take me to hell rather than to heaven; the money earned in such a service could not bring luck; it was better to spend it on the high roads, and to cut myself adrift from such a reprehensible mode of life. undoubtedly the time had come. besides, it was absolutely necessary to ascertain the circumstances of my brother's death; i knew the sum of money he had with him, and the idea of his having spent it in so short a time was inadmissible. i told my reasons, though not all, to marie; we parted on the most amicable footing. in the letter she gave me for the commander, she informed him of the sum she had given me at my departure, leaving it to him to increase it. herr von loewenstein wished me happiness and luck, and advised me, if i valued my life, to abstain in italy, but above all in rome, from all theological controversy; finally, he added a double ducat to marie's gift. from spires i went a little out of my way to see my friends at pforzheim; after having said goodbye to them i began my long journey, alone and on foot, under the holy safeguard of the almighty. chapter vi travels in italy--what happened to me in rome--i take steps to recover my brother's property--i become aware of some strange particulars--i suddenly leave rome i started from mayence on april , , and after crossing an unknown country by bad roads, i reached kempten, an ancient imperial city at the foot of the alps, and the see of an important abbey. the unpleasant parts of the journey hitherto had been solitude and fatigue, when at a quarter of an hour from kempten there appeared two wolves of very good size. they were making for a plantation of oaks on the other side of the road, but when they got to the highway, at a stone's throw from where i was, they stopped "to take stock of me." evidently they were going to make a mouthful of my poor, insignificant person. what was i to do? to beat a retreat was practically to invite their pursuit. to advance was to lessen at every step the distance dividing us. trusting to god's good will, i kept marching on, and the wolves disappeared in the underwood. i hurried on, to escape the double risk of meeting the carnivora again or to find the city gates shut against me, for night was coming on apace. at the hostelry nobody seemed surprised at the meeting, for the neighbouring mountains swarmed with large packs of the animals. what they wondered at was the manner in which i got out of the danger. i offered thanks to the lord. i lay two nights at kempten, because i was told not to venture alone in those mountains, where wild beasts and murderers prevailed. meanwhile three hollanders, proceeding to rome and to naples, arrived at the inn; it was the very opportunity i wanted; other travellers going to venice joined our little caravan. every evening, or at least one out of every two, we plunged our feet into running water; it proved a sovereign remedy against fatigue, recommended by the hollanders. the council was sitting at trent. before that town we made a halt in the middle of the day, in one of the burghs called markets, because they are too large for a village and too small for a town, notwithstanding their having a few stone houses. after having cooled our feet in the running stream we prepared for ourselves a meal of hot milk, eggs, and other eatables we had managed to find. the host and hostess who had been invited to the feast were most obliging; they foresaw a fat bill. having had a good rest and plenty of food and drink, and having paid our reckoning, we bade them goodbye, and we already were at a considerable distance when a horseman came galloping after us, signalling us to stop by raising his hat. he brought me the satchel of brown damask that contained the whole of my fortune. i had left it behind lying on the table. the man absolutely refused to accept any reward. i wonder if i could find any instance of such disinterestedness in our country? at easter i heard most delicious singing in the trent churches. i have heard the musicians of duke ulrich of würtenberg (and they were a subject of pride with him), of the elector of saxony, of the king of the romans, not to mention those of the emperor, but what a difference. old men, with beards almost reaching to their waists, sang the upper notes with a purity and skill fit to compare with those of the most accomplished youngster. trent boasts of the most elegant castle of germany and italy. i also saw there the tomb of the child simeon, the innocent victim of the jews.[ ] a great personage had posted from venice to the council; the rider, who was to take the carriage back, allowed me for a trifle to mount the second horse. it was agreed that i should wait for my companions at _the white lion_ in venice. at a short distance from trent one gets into lombardy. after a lone and difficult journey across the alps, during which there is nothing to be seen but the sky and the mountains rearing their heads against the clouds, it was like entering into another world. the air was balmy, the country revelling in green; and if i had wanted a thousand florins' worth of cherries, i could have got them far more easily than in pomerania in the middle of june. lombardy is a beautiful land, of fertile and well cultivated plains. the trees are planted at thirty feet from each other, with an interval of sixty feet between each row; the vine extends its branches from one tree to another, and the grapes ripen between pears and apples. the corn grows between the trees; at the end of the fields there are reservoirs the water of which is distributed every morning by means of locks into the irrigation canals. the country resembles a vast prairie. the sun sheds his rays the whole day; no wonder that the earth is so fruitful. there are two crops of grain every year. from trent to venice there are also many important towns and castles. i reached venice towards the end of april. the public promenade helped me to kill the time while waiting for the arrival of my companions; and as my dress attracted the notice of the children in the street, who pursued me with the cry: "_tu sei tedesco, percio luterano!_" i had it altered to the welch fashion. an aged priest, travelling with a servant to attend to his horse, had left the low countries with the mad intention of visiting the holy sepulchre; my companions practically catechized him on the subject of religion, and the poor man showed himself so little versed that i came to his aid by pretending to be a roman catholic. in acknowledgment of the service i had rendered him, he paid my reckoning at the inn, and wished to take me with him at his expense to jerusalem. i cannot say if he saw his own household gods again, but he did not shake my resolution to proceed to rome. venice and its environs, especially murano, where the most precious glass is manufactured, would be sufficient to claim one's interest and attention for a whole twelvemonth; but our resources required husbanding, and we proceeded to chioggia to embark in a big ship sailing for ancona. contrary winds kept us in port a considerable time; to pass the time we played skittles outside the walls. we carried our daggers at our backs in walloon fashion, which caused us to be summoned before the authorities. how did we dare to appear in public armed with daggers--a crime which was punished with hanging in italy? in consideration of our presumed ignorance of the law, mercy would be shown to us this once, but we ought to take it as a warning. the magistrates inquired whence we came, and whence we hailed, etc., and their astonishment was intense when they learnt that my country was two hundred leagues away on the shores of the baltic, and was called pomerania. then the interrogatory went on: "do you profess the catholic religion?" "yes," i answered. "do you admit the doctrine of our holy father, the pope?" "what is your opinion with regard to the mother of god, the saints and the celebration of mass?" "in our country the church teaches that at the moment st. john baptized christ, god the father spoke these words: 'this is my beloved son, in whom i am well pleased; listen to him.' the doctrine of the son of god and of the apostles is, therefore, the pure catholic doctrine; and whosoever preaches it deserves belief. with regard to the blessed virgin mary, the saints and the mass, we entirely submit to the word of god." finally, on our statement that we were going to rome, the magistrates, inclining their heads with a smile, recommended us to god's keeping and to his holy angels. at the first favourable wind we took ship, provided with the quantity of provisions the pilot had told us. after having passed ravenna and other beautiful cities of the adriatic, we cast anchor at ancona, a town driving a considerable trade, and provided with an excellent port in the shape of a half moon, affording shelter from the most violent tempests. here our company was still further increased by a certain petrus from the low countries, a handsome young fellow, tall and well set up, who for a long time had been soldiering in welch countries. he made us go round by our lady of loretto, a locality famed for the indulgences granted to its pilgrims. it would be difficult to conceive anything more wild than the country--a veritable brigands' haunt. the town has but one long street, at the end of which there is a small chapel, the tenement reputed to have been occupied by the virgin mary at nazareth and transported thence by the angels. in a niche there is an image of the virgin, alleged to be the work of st. luke. for a certain consideration a priest will rub the rosaries against the image, and under those conditions the pilgrim obtains so many indulgences that he would not part with them for an empire. the quills of the porcupine constitute one of the principal articles for sale at loretto. i saw a great many of those animals alive; they are about the size of a hedgehog. i ornamented my hat with a large leaden medal of the virgin surmounted by three quills fastened with a silken thread, and each with a small flag at the end. i also saw at loretto a live chamois, the only one i ever beheld, though chamois are not rare in that country, and above all in the alps. the flesh of the chamois is preferred to that of the deer. i have tasted it; i have even worn several pair of small clothes of chamois leather; it is excellent, and you can wash it like linen, and the skin remains as soft as ever. petrus was known everywhere, and principally in the mountains. without ever having studied to that effect, he could pride himself upon being a good musician and being able to sing at sight. in every town he took us straight to a monastery, where the young monks hailed him by his name, feasted him, bringing him wine and refreshment; then they sang a piece of music, drank a cup of wine, and we took our leave. this petrus was a precious travelling companion; added to his knowledge of the country, he had a most agreeable disposition, _et comes facundus in via pro vehiculo est_. he told us where he was born and how many years he had lived in italy, far away from his parents, whom, however, he was most anxious to see again. i, in my turn, told him the business that called me to rome; he offered to accompany me on the return journey. the voyage from milan and across france was delightful, he said; he was familiar with the roads as far as the low countries. i was delighted with the proposal, which, as will be seen, was wellnigh fatal to me. in rome, after having settled us in a hostelry, petrus gave me his address, and we agreed to meet often. on may , , i presented myself at the house of doctor gaspard hoyer, who, at the first glance, knew my identity by my likeness to magister johannes. he changed my straw hat, ornamented with the holy relic which i had bought at loretto, for a black biretta of italian fashion, a headgear very much worn in those days at rome. he had with him gerard schwartz, the younger brother of master arndt schwartz, and in talking together we discovered that we had left trent on the same day without having fallen in with each other, schwartz having travelled by way of ferrara. he was a very scholarly young man, and a near kinsman of dr. hoyer. i never saw him again; and one day, when i asked master arndt schwartz, he told me that gerard had come back to stralsund mentally affected, and that subsequently he disappeared. i have got an idea that he had contracted an illness in rome which he dared not avow to his relatives. master gaspard hoyer had only learnt of the death of my brother thirteen days before my arrival, in a letter from my father. the news had grieved and surprised him, but there remained the fact that my parents in pomerania had been informed more promptly of the misfortune than an inhabitant of rome. i conceived many tragic suspicions, on the subject of which i could only trust to god. dr. hoyer proved his goodwill by accompanying me to the cardinal count de st. flore,[ ] whose servant my late brother had been; he presented me, exposed my wretched situation, and renewed the request he had preferred at the receipt of my father's letter. the cardinal was exquisitely sympathetic; he had promptly communicated with his steward at acquapendente, and he expected the reply, together with my brother's belongings, at every moment. nevertheless, master hoyer had to wait until july without receiving another summons to call. he considered my presence necessary, and on our way he told me that he and the cardinal had offered my brother a canonry at lubeck, and that in consequence of his refusal my brother had become strongly suspected of lutheranism. we were taken at once to the cardinal, who handed me five-and-twenty golden crowns, three double ducats, two golden florins, two rose nobles, one florin of hungary, three angelots (french money), a golden chain of twenty and a half crowns, three golden rings (the first being a seal, the second a keepsake, and the third set with a turquoise), worth seven and a half crowns, another half-crown in gold, and three juliuses. i was told at the same time that my brother had spent thirty crowns in clothes, that during his illness he had bequeathed twenty crowns to the poor, and that his tombstone had cost another thirty. according to roman custom, the servants had divided his wardrobe among themselves. the cardinal said also to me: "_legit aliquoties libros mihi admodum suspectos, et quanquam admonui eum, ut non legeret, tamen deprehendi saepius legentem._" after this he asked me several questions of interest about pomerania. was it as hot there as in rome? the cardinal, in fact, was sitting in his shirt sleeves, in a large room whose window panes were made of linen instead of glass; the floor was constantly sprinkled with water, which by a nice contrivance ran away. my reply caused the cardinal to exclaim: "_o utinam et romae ejusmodi temperatum aërem haberemus._" after master hoyer had thanked him in both our names, we took our leave. "did you hear what the cardinal said?" asked the doctor, when we were in the streets once more. "no doubt i did," was the answer. "yes," he remarked, "master johannes' stay at acquapendente was a very short one; and yet, no german was ever less fond of italian fruit, fresh figs, melons, etc., than he." people ought to know that those fruits are delicious, but harmful to those who are not used to them. many a german on his first arrival yields to the temptation, and pays for the imprudent act with his life. besides, dr. hoyer had not had the slightest anxiety with regard to my brother, whom only very recently he had met in the street. i left the money and the trinkets with dr. hoyer until my departure. master gaspard hoyer was an honest, loyal and obliging little man; may the lord watch over him. in order to make my money hold out, he took a good deal of trouble to find me a place with the superintendent of the hospitium of santa-brigitta, an aged swedish priest, who took boarders from among the advocates, procurators and suitors of the tribunal of the rote. to cook, to wash up, to make the beds, to lay the table, and to clear it, to bring the wine from the cellar, and to serve it, these were my functions, for which i received half a crown per month. apparently they were satisfied with my culinary talent; it is true, i had only to prepare the soup, called "minestra"; the other dishes came from the tavern. in rome, where there are so many people who cannot publicly live with a woman, and where it swarms with suitors and pleaders who would find it difficult to keep up a house, there are excellent taverns, providing fish, flesh, game, poultry roast, boiled pasties, and delicate wines; in short, everything necessary to a princely banquet. one day, while at meat, my master announced the happy tidings of the death of dr. luther; the heresiarch had met with the end he deserved; a legion of devils had swooped down upon him, and a horrible din had put all those around him to flight. luther himself had bellowed like a bull, and at the last moment he had uttered a terrible yell; his spirit went on haunting the house. the boarders vied with each other in falling foul of "that abominable luther," that limb of satan, doomed, like all the other demons, to everlasting fire. the only one who did not join in this charitable colloquy was a procurator of the rote; he only opened his lips to murmur now and again: "_o jesu, fili dei, miserere mei_," to the tune of that famous italian song, to which there seems no end, "_fala lilalela_." my master, who performed mass at the chapel of the hospitium, hit upon the idea to take me as his acolyte; my ignorance of the various movements and my lukewarmness to learn, made him exclaim: "_profecto tu es lutheranus!_" "_sum christianus_," i replied, "my schooling in my native country, and my daily work at spires by the receiver of the order of st. john, left me no leisure to think of mass." i am bound to confess that as we went on, the suspicions of my new master did not fail to inspire me with fears for my safety. my master officiated at all the masses on saints' days, both in town and in the neighbourhood; there were as many as three on the same day; and as the journey from one church to the other was long, and we left at daybreak to return very late at night, our satchel contained a large flagon of wine and substantial food. each altar was completely prepared for mass; our master halted before the altar nearest to the entrance, put on his chasuble and said a mass. the first one i heard; then we departed for another church, and there, while my master officiated, i sat down behind the altar, my satchel on my knee, and ate a comfortable morsel, and washed it down with a moderately full cup. at meal time the priest noted the deficiency, and asked me for an explanation; i frankly confessed my inability to prolong the fast, which after all i was not bound to observe, inasmuch as i did not say mass. the explanation was more or less graciously received. this visit to the various stations enabled me to see and to learn a great many in a short time, for my master, who knew the city thoroughly, was very pleased to show me its curiosities, and often went a long way round for my sake. rome has close upon one hundred and fifty churches, seven of which count as principal ones. there are many abbeys, convents and asylums. i did not see all these buildings, and the majority of those i saw did not strike me as remarkable. at the door of each church a tablet tells the dates of the pilgrimages and the number of indulgences to be gained; the general list of the pilgrimages and of the indulgences is also sold separately. the annual number of stations or pilgrimages exceeds a hundred; hence, one can redeem all one's sins at least a dozen times; that is, eleven times more than is necessary, and one is furthermore gratified with a hundred thousand years of indulgences. o, good jesus, why didst not thou remain in heaven, if our salvation is after all to depend upon holy popes and their magnificent indulgences, notwithstanding which they have to go and join the devils in hell. a special mention is due to the asylum of the holy spirit, the pride of rome, and which is considered by the wise as the most meritorious work of christendom. rome contains a mass of single folk of both sexes; the pope's _entourage_ consists of fifteen or sixteen cardinals, whose establishments are kept on a footing as good as that of the courts of our princes of germany. then there are about a hundred bishops having servants, and several thousand prelates, canons and priests with their servitors. i refrain from numbering the young monks, who keep their vow of chastity as a dog observes lent. nor should we forget the assessors, advocates, procurators, notaries and pleaders of a hundred different countries who crowd the law courts. all these are forbidden to have a wife. nevertheless, thousands of them shelter under their roofs persons of the fair sex, supposed cooks, washerwomen and chambermaids. and now calculate the number of disorderly women. they, however, enjoy a wonderful liberty, and it is safer to wound or even to kill a man in rome than to treat roughly an importunate harlot. at vespers, great lords, pope, cardinals, bishops and prelates send for these "damsels of joy." they come to their homes in male disguise; the others know exactly where to find them. the courtesans sell their wares at a high price, for they stroll about attired in velvet, damasks, silks, and resplendent in gold. they cannot sell their favours cheaply, inasmuch as they pay a heavy tax, which, together with the proceeds of masses, constitutes the revenues of the priests with which rome swarms. if one wishes to ascertain the revenues of an ecclesiastic, he asks: "how many harlots?" and the figures show whether he, the ecclesiastic, is more or less favoured. no wonder, then, that, privileged in that manner, magnificently dressed and kept in splendour, prostitutes come to rome from all parts. it is worthy of notice that the young girls of rome emulate the others with zest. (dr. hoyer's cook, a native of nuremburg, must have been once a beautiful creature. her master always called her madonna margarita.) at thirty or thirty-five, when they find their admirers desert them, these persons become cooks, laundresses, serving wenches, without, however, disdaining a good windfall. the result was this: they smothered, they flung into the cloaca, they drowned in the tiber more new-born than there were massacred at bethlehem. herod after all was an impious and barbaric tyrant, and resorted to this butchery in order to defend his crown. yet by whom were the poor innocents in rome deprived of baptism and life? by their mothers, by those to whom they owed their birth, by the saints of this world, the vicars of christ. to cure the evil by means established by god himself was not to be thought of, marriage having been declared incompatible with the sacerdotal office. pope sixtus iv, however, having set his heart upon stopping those horrible murders, restored from roof to cellar the asylum of the holy spirit, tumbling to ruin, and enlarged it by several handsome structures; he established an important brotherhood there, at the head of which he inscribed his own name, an example followed by many cardinals. each member of the fraternity has the privilege of choosing for himself a confessor; and power was given to said confessor to give plenary absolution once when the penitent was in a state of good health; when dying, an unlimited number of times, even for the cases usually reserved for the apostolic see. the wards of the hospital are handsome and roomy, the beds and appurtenances leave nothing to desire. the sick of every country are treated with unremitting care; when they are cured they pay, if they are able and willing; but the very poor are sent away dressed in new clothes from head to foot, and provided with some money. the staff is composed of sick-nurses of both sexes, physicians and surgeons; the establishment has, moreover, an excellent dispensary abundantly stocked with everything, and recourse to which was often had from outside. the institution--apart from the hospital--brings up foundlings and orphans; the governors have the boys taught this or that trade, according to their aptitude or taste, nor are the girls allowed to remain idle. while still very young they begin to knit, to spin, to sew and to weave; in fact, under the direct supervision of the mistresses attached to the establishment, they are taught all the occupations of their sex. if one of the inmates wishes to get married, he or she must inform the administrators either directly or through an intermediary. inquiries are made about the suitors, about their means of maintaining a family, etc. the girls get a modest marriage-portion, an outfit, household goods and utensils, and at whitsuntide six or seven unions are celebrated at the institution on the same day. truly, it is a great institution, which seems to defy all criticism. in spite of enormous expenses, the existence of the establishment is assured by its resources. of course sixtus iv. has contributed largely from his private purse, but those contributions were as nothing to the practically incredible sums collected by the courtesans throughout christendom in aid of the hospital, germany included, and even pomerania, if i may trust to the recollections of my young days. one day, while taking a stroll with dr. hoyer, i ventured to ask him if he had no wish to come back to his native country, where he had friends, relatives, property and livings. he said he had not such a wish, in consequence of the difference of religion, adding: "may my countrymen amend their ways and become converted, like all those who have turned away from the true and primitive catholic doctrine." "but," replied i, "it's we who have the true and primitive catholic doctrine in its purity." dr. hoyer retorted: "it is written, 'ye shall know them by their fruits.' well, let them show me anywhere in germany an institution to be compared to the hospital and the asylum of the holy spirit." "i know this saying of christ," i remarked, "and i turn it against the papists. good fruits, indeed; a life of abomination, the murder of innocent creatures, a premium on debauch by picking up the new-born. the pope, the cardinals, bishops, prelates, canons, their servants, monks, assessors and other hangers-on of the priesthood, would not all these be better off in taking to themselves wives? for as much as the almighty condemns fornication, as much does he recommend to the priest, as well as to the layman, the holy state of marriage, the antidote to the roman horrors of a certain kind. do not we read in the epistles of paul: 'marriage is honourable among all things'? and if so, there would be no more murdering of innocents, mothers and fathers would themselves look after their offspring, the asylum of the holy spirit would become useless, an immense saving would be effected, and everybody would have a clear conscience with regard to that kind of thing." dr. hoyer did not answer me, but what a wry face he pulled! rome contains a great number of handsome mansions, for the popes, in order to perpetuate their memory, erect three-storied and four-fronted palaces; whole streets of houses are demolished if in any way they obstruct the view. the material employed is a magnificently hard stone; there is a popular saying to that effect: "in rome, great blocks of marble, great personages, great scoundrels." nor are the cardinals and bishops satisfied with modest buildings, least of all with humble huts; as a consequence, the stone masons always have their hands full. buffaloes, a species of very strong oxen, convey the stones, which are hoisted up in the easiest possible manner, by means of curious engines. on corpus christi day there is a grand procession, in which the pope takes part. the streets through which he passes are bestrewn with green, the houses are ornamented with rich hangings, there is the firing of cannon, and clever pieces of fireworks are let off from the various palaces; naturally there is an immense crowd, and people could walk on each other's heads; the smallest window has a number of spectators. at the castle of st. angelo there was an admirable piece of fireworks in the shape of a sun; the whole structure seemed to be ablaze. at st. peter's there was a discharge of heavy artillery, and the cannons of st. angelo and of the cardinals replied to the salute. there was so much smoke and so much noise that one could neither hear nor see anything. at last both subsided, and then the pope appeared on the balcony, where they presented a book bound in gold to him, from which he read, but i could not catch a word he said. all at once the whole of the enormous throng, thousands of people, fall on their knees, i alone remain standing; those around me stare at me with stupefaction, thinking, no doubt, that i have taken leave of my senses. when the reading was over (it was a short one) the pope blessed the people, who cried: "_vivat papa paulus, vivat_." close to the church of maria de pace stands the huge statue of pasquin, which every morning denounces, without ceremony and with impunity, as it were, the mistakes and crimes of the great ones of the land, the cardinals and the pope paul iii were often taken to task; numberless were the allusions with reference to his acquisition of the cardinal's hat. a german, who had come to rome for absolution, confessed, among other things, to having spoken ill of the pope. the confessor was greatly perplexed. it was difficult to account this as a sin to the penitent, when at any minute the latter might hear the pope insulted openly; on the other hand, to refrain from condemnation on the ground that the case was a common one at rome was virtually discrediting the papacy in the estimation of the germans. clever man that he was, the confessor asked: "_ubi maledixisti pontifici, in patriâ vel hic romae?_" "_in patriâ_." was the answer. "_o!_" exclaimed the priest, "_commisisti grande peccatum; romae licet pontifici maledicere, in patriâ vero non._" at that time the pope was recruiting, to the sound of the drum, troops to aid the emperor against the lutherans. about , foot soldiers and light horse, both exceedingly well-equipped, enlisted. they mustered at bologna; the pope's grandson octavius, governor of st. angelo,[ ] received the command of the contingent. the spanish inquisition grew more and more energetic in order to arouse the religious ardour of the horse and foot soldiers. a spaniard, convicted of lutheranism, was paraded seated on a horse, covered to its hoofs with placards representing the devil; the gallows were erected close to the pyre in front of sancta maria super minervam. the poor wretch was hanged and his body burnt; after which a chattering monk demonstrated at length the temporal and spiritual dangers of the lutheran heresy. the cardinals gave a grand banquet in honour of duke philip of brunswick. a well-born spaniard slipped in among the servants of the prelate where the entertainment took place. that nation is greatly addicted to pilfering. most people know the answer of emperor charles v to the spaniards, who wished to induce him to suppress the habitual drunkenness of the germans: "it would practically remove the opportunity of spaniards to do a bit of robbery now and again," said charles. fancying that such an opportunity had come, the spaniard got hold of some bread and a flagon of wine, hid himself under the table, the cloths of which reached to the floor. in the event of his being caught, he was ready with the plea of a practical joke, knowing that the host was himself very fond of them. two of his servants were posted near the great mansion. the banquet was not over before midnight, and the stewards of his eminence, worn out with fatigue, considered that the silver would not take wing when the doors were shut. they therefore left it where it was, merely shutting the doors behind them. emerging from his hiding-place, the spaniard introduces his confederates, and they all carry away as much as they can. the spoil is sold to the jews, with the exception of the least cumbersome pieces, which the scoundrel intends to keep for making a show of his own; and then the three depart in the direction of naples as fast as their horses will carry them. his eminence's retainers having gone to bed late, were not up betimes, and their astonishment on entering the banquetting hall may easily be imagined. their flesh crept. how were they going to avoid being sent to prison? were they to preserve silence about the affair, or inform the cardinal? they decided upon the latter course. they were locked up, and couriers were dispatched in hot haste to warn the innkeepers; the express order of the pope was to bring back to rome any person in whose possession the stolen objects were found. it so befell that, tired and hungry, the spaniard stopped at a hostelry; they laid the table for him, but at the sight of the earthenware he waxed indignant. "what's the meaning of this?" he bellowed. "am i a nothing at all?" thereupon he orders his servant to bring out his own silver. the landlord, who had ample time, in the kitchen, to look at it, recognized it from its description, sent for reinforcements, and his three customers were taken back to rome. when interrogated, the spaniard denounced the jews as receivers; his money was taken from him, the silver was found at the jews' houses, and they were immediately put under lock and key. a great number of jews dwell in rome, practically confined to one long street, closed at both ends. any one who should be imprudent enough to come out of that street during passion week, commemorating, as it does, the martyrdom of christ, would infallibly be murdered. when easter is gone jews are as secure as they were before; they go everywhere, and transact their business without being hampered or molested. the two receivers were the principal and the richest members of their tribe; thousands of crowns were offered for their ransom, but it was all in vain. the five criminals perished on the gallows, erected by the st. angelo bridge, the spaniard in the centre, a copper crown on his head, to single him out as king of the thieves. in fact, no week went by without a hanging. i was an eye-witness of the following. the hangman was about to push a condemned man from the ladder, when a friendly voice in the crowd cried: "_messere nicolao, confide in uno dio!_" to which the thief replied: "_messere, si._" at the same moment he was hurled into space. i have often seen the strappado given; among others, to priests guilty of having said more than one mass per day, a practice considered hurtful to the interest of their fellow-priests. a pulley is fixed to the coping of the roof; in the middle of the rope there is a stick which stops the rope running along the groove farther than that. the culprit, his hands tied behind his back, is attached to the one end of the rope, which is in the street. after that he is hoisted up and left to fall suddenly to within a yard of the ground. in that way the wrists pass over the head, and the shoulders are dislocated. after three hoistings he is unbound, taken into the house, where his limbs are set, an operation which the _lictores_ perform with the greatest ease in virtue of their great practice. there are, however, patients who remain maimed all their lives; on the other hand, i have known a priest, who, in consideration of a julius, consented to suffer those three turns. i was beginning to think about my homeward journey, and felt greatly perplexed about it. the dog-days were drawing near, and northern folk are unable to bear them in italy. on the other hand, along the whole of my route war was raging, and the welch soldiers are a hundred times greater devils than the germans; though in germany itself it would have been a difficult task to get through the lines of those formidable imperial cohorts, the savage bands of bohemians, and, in fine, the protestant army. was i to prolong my stay in rome? wisdom said no. i remembered but too well cardinal st. flore remark about my brother, "_frustra eum admonui, ut non legeres libros suspectos_." moreover, my opinion on the asylum of the holy spirit had scandalized dr. hoyer, and the provider of the st. brigitta institute had exclaimed with an oath: "_profecto tu es lutheranus_." the spanish inquisition was acting with the utmost rigour; and inasmuch as the wine was excellent i was very nigh forgetting for a little while the prudent counsel of my former master, the commander of st. john. consequently, after ripe reflection, full of trust in the almighty, and also counting on the faithful company of petrus, i told dr. hoyer of my impending departure. he considered it incumbent on him to point out the dangers of the journey, but perceiving that my mind was fully made up, he handed me my brother's property and gave me a letter for my father. i parted with the swede _bonâ cum veniâ_, seeing that he gave me a crown for the six weeks i had served him. i had told my friend petrus that until my going i should confide to dr. hoyer the valuables the cardinal had restored to me. from that particular moment he talked about leaving rome, especially as the enlisting had begun, and the mercenaries were almost immediately after their registration dispatched to bologna. we finally fixed our departure for july . god, once more, took me under his wing. i had become acquainted with a companion of my own age, named nicholas, the son of a tailor at lubeck. he told me that after many years stay at rome he wished to see his own country again, but that he had not the necessary money for the journey. if i did not mind paying his expenses on the road, he would reimburse them at lubeck, and consider himself my debtor ever afterwards. i was really glad at his request, for i considered him a man of honour and most loyal. he was, moreover, thoroughly master of italian, which i knew very badly. i therefore thanked providence who sent me a _comitem mente fideque parem_. on the eve of our departure i went to inform petrus of the excellent news. he turned pale, grew low-spirited, and did not utter a syllable. i ascribed his coolness to something that had annoyed him, and told him that we should come for him very early in the morning. after a moment's hesitation he said "yes," and walked away. next morning nicholas and i, prepared and equipped for our journey, knocked at his door. petrus lodged with poor people; he was a simple landsknecht, and, according to his landlady, he carried all his belongings on his back. the woman then told us that petrus, after leaving us, had promptly enlisted and betaken himself off, from fear of his creditors and in spite of his promise to pay them all with the money he was shortly expecting. let my children give praise to the almighty who saved my life at the moment i was blindly going to trust it to the mercy of a vagrant mercenary. no doubt that, shortly after leaving the city, he would have killed me in some solitary spot, of which there is no lack in the neighbourhood of rome. not a soul would have troubled about what had become of me. the least he would have done to me was to rob me of everything i possessed before letting me go free, and, as i am ignorant of the language of the country, i cannot help shuddering at the thought of the fate that was in store for me. and here i record, for the benefit of my children, the prediction of that sainted doctor martin luther. "war," he had said, "will make germany expiate her sins. it shall be staved off while i live, but the moment i am gone it will break out." now, he went to sleep in the lord on february of this year ( ) at eisleben, his natal town; and the historians have stated that the preparations for war commenced in february at the moment he fell ill. i myself had superabundant proofs in april of both the emperor and the pope arming on all sides; and it was at the beginning of june that the cardinal of trent reached rome, dispatched by his imperial majesty to hurry the departure of the , italian foot-soldiers and the light horsemen. chapter vii from rome to stralsund, by viterbo, florence, mantua, trent, innspruck, ratisbon and nuremberg--various adventures on the morning of july , , in my twenty-sixth year, i left rome with my faithful companion nicholas. my gold was sewn up in my neck collar, the chain in my small clothes. in the way of luggage i had a small satchel containing a shirt and the poems composed by my brother at spires and in rome; slung across my shoulders i wore a kind of strap to which i tied my cloak in the day. i had my sword by my side and a rosary dangling from the belt, like a soldier joining his regiment. we had agreed (it being a question of life and death) that i should pretend to be dumb; hence nicholas did not stir from my side for a moment wherever i went. the landsknechten, who spoke to me on the road without receiving an answer, were informed by him of my pretended infirmity. "what a pity," they said; "and such a handsome fellow, too. never mind," they added, "he'll none the less split those brigands of lutherans lengthwise." "you may be sure of that," replied my comrade, and thanks to this stratagem we got across the lines of the welch soldiery. on the morning after our leaving rome, duke octavius went by, posting. he was accompanied by five people. when we got to ronciglione, about two miles from viterbo, we made up our minds to sup there, and go to bed afterwards, in order to arrive early in the city fresh and hearty, though not before daylight, inasmuch as we wanted to lay in a stock of things. scarcely had we sat down to table when a turbulent crowd of soldiers invaded the inn; the host told us to remain quiet, for he was shaking in his shoes for himself. the bandits commenced by flinging him out of his own door; the larder was pillaged, and after having drunk to their heart's content, they staved in the barrels and swamped the cellars with the wine. it was an abominable bit of business and unquestionably the welch, and latin mercenaries are greater ruffians than the german landsknechten; at any rate, if we are to judge from what they did in a friendly country, and virtually under the very eyes of the pope. they invited us to accompany them to viterbo, in spite of nicholas pointing out to them that night was coming on apace, and that the gates would be shut. "we'll get in for all that," they said. we were bound to follow them. we got there about midnight, and they were challenged by the guard. "who goes there?" he asked. "soldiers of duke octavius," was the answer, and thereupon the gate was opened. i recommend the following to the meditation of my children; let them compare my adventure with that of simon grynaeus, related at length in the writings of philip melanchthon, selneccerus, camerarius, manlius and other learned personages. in grynaeus, then professor of mathematics at heidelberg, came to see melanchthon at the diet of spires; he heard faber, one of his old acquaintances, emit from the pulpit many errors in connexion with transubstantiation. having gone up to him when they came out of church, they started a discussion, and faber, on the pretext of wishing to resume it, invited him to come to his inn the next morning. melanchthon and his friends dissuaded grynaeus from going. the next day, at the dinner hour, a weakly-looking old man stopped manlius at the entrance to the hall asking him where grynaeus was to be found, the process-servers, according to him, being on the look out to arrest him. thereupon the various learned men who had foregathered there immediately conducted grynaeus out of the town, and waited on the banks until he had crossed the rhine; they had come upon the law-officers three or four houses away from the inn; luckily the latter neither knew them nor grynaeus. as for the old man, there was no further trace of him; they made sure it was an angel. i myself am inclined to think it was some pious nicodemus who, having got wind of the wicked designs of faber, made it his business to frustrate them without compromising himself. now for my own adventure. we entered viterbo in the middle of the night. prudence dictated the avoidance of the mercenaries' lodgings, for a meeting with petrus would have been fatal to us; as it happened, the soldiers swarmed everywhere. wandering from house to house, and devoured with anxiety, we invoked the lord, our last hope. and behold a man of forty and of excellent appearance accosted us. we had never seen him, and not a syllable had fallen from our lips. we were dressed in the welch fashion; everybody, even in plain daylight, would have taken us for soldiers. well, without the slightest preamble, he addressed us in our own language. "you are germans," he said, "and in a welch country; don't forget it. if the podesta lays hold of you, it means the strappado, and perhaps worse. you are making for germany." (how did he know, except by reading our thoughts?) "let me put you into the right road." dumb with astonishment, we followed him in silence as far as the gates of the town; he exchanged a few words with the custodian, who, in his own gibberish, said to us: "for the love of you, friends, i'll disobey my orders, which expressly forbid me to open the gates before dawn. you'll find nothing in the faubourg, i warn you; the soldiers have pillaged and burnt everything, but you'll not die for being obliged to do one night without food and drink." saying which he showed us out and promptly shut the gates upon us. who had been our guide? i am still asking myself the question. as for us, reassured by the consciousness of the divine presence; and in our hearts we gave praise for this miraculous deliverance. the faubourg, destroyed by fire, was simply a mass of ruins. we slept in the open air on the straw of a barn where the wheat is threshed out by oxen and horses. it was daylight when we opened our eyes, and the first thing we saw was a gallows. towards midday we got as far as montefiascone, a pretty town famed for its muscat wine. thanks be to god, we continued our journey without being again alarmed, and we did not catch sight of any mercenaries until we came to bologna. we halted at montefiascone until the evening and enjoyed the roast fowls and savoury dishes, but the oppressive heat interfered with our appetite, though the bottle was more frequently appealed to. a story is told a of traveller who was in the habit of getting his servant to taste the wine at every hostelry they stopped.[ ] "_est_," said the latter if the wine was bad, "_est, est_" if it was passable, "_est, est, est_" if it was good. and his master either continued his route or dismounted according to the signal. at montefiascone, however, the servant did not fail to cry: "_est, est, est_," and his master drank so long as to contract an inflammation, of which he died. when the relatives inquired about the cause of his death, the servant replied: "_est, est, est facit quod dominus meus hic jacet_," and in his grief he kept repeating: "_o est, est, est, dominus meus mortuus est_." on july we reached acquapendente, where my brother died, i visited the church without being able to discover his burial place. to ask questions would have been tantamount to betraying ourselves, considering that the germans were the butt of public hatred. sienna, an important town with a celebrated university, is called _siena virgo_, though it lost its virginity long ago. from a neighbouring mountain one notices two small burghs; the one is called cent, the other nonagent. the pope being at sienna, a monk undertook to show him _centum nonaginta civitates_. when he got his holiness to the top he showed him the two places in question. lovely florence is the pearl of italy. at the entrance to each town they said to us, "liga la spada" (tie the hilt to the sheath). at florence we had to give up our weapons. if we had only crossed the city a man would have accompanied us to restore them at the other gate, but on our declaring that we were going to stay until the evening our swords were taken from us, and the hilts provided with a wooden label, part of which they gave us to keep. besides, some one came into the city with us, and, among other useful information, showed us a beautiful hostelry where they treated us remarkably well for our money. a magnificent palace, a church entirely constructed of variegated marble, adjusted with marvellous skill and art, a dozen lions and lionesses, two tigers and an eagle, that is all i remember. there were ever so many other curiosities to see, but our heads were full of germany. when the heat of the day abated we pursued our journey; our arms were restored to us on our presenting part of the label. after having crossed mount scarperia, which fully deserves its name, seeing that it constitutes the most fatal passage of italy to shoeleather and feet, we got to bologna in the morning of july . bologna is a big city belonging to the pope (_bononia grassa, padua la passa_), and endowed with a famous university. the town was teeming with mercenaries, so we were not particularly anxious to stop in it. at some distance from bologna begins a canal dug by the hand of man. there the lord caused us to meet with an inhabitant of mantua who had just enlisted. we proposed to hire a boat as far as ferrara together. "whither are you going?" he asked. as we had the appearance of soldiers, and as he might conceive some surprise at seeing us turn our backs on headquarters, we hit upon the idea of telling him that our master was at the council of trent. "oh," he remarked, "you are going farther, then?" we said neither "yes" nor "no." he knew a little latin, like myself, and so i no longer kept up my part of a dumb man before him. he professed but small regard for the pope and papism. "how dare you," i exclaimed, "talk in that way in italy, and on the very territory of the church? and why, if these are your opinions, do you take service against the evangelicals?" "what does it matter?" he replied; "i am not risking the loss of a cardinal's hat. i am a fighting man, and fight for those who pay me." when we got near to the pô, he said: "ferrara lies no doubt in your most direct road to germany, but what could you see there of interest? it is only a big town of the old style. you had better come to mantua, the country of virgil, a handsome, pleasant, and strong city, with a superb castle. the rest you are likely to get in the boat will compensate for your coming out of your way. i'll go on shore just before ferrara, and will get a boatman; the place is famed for its fat geese, which, at this season of the year, one eats smoking hot from the spit. i'll bring one back with me, together with bread and wine, and i shall only be gone a little while." ferrara, with its famous university, its actual importance, and ancient origin, unquestionably aroused our curiosity. nevertheless, the advice of our soldier-friend was not to be despised, because by going up the pô, we advanced in spite of the heat. our guide soon came back, bringing with him everything he had promised. the boatman whom he brought was simply in his shirt sleeves, and drank at one draught a whole measure of heavy wine we offered him; then, flinging the towing rope over his shoulder, he towed us to mantua, ostiglia being our halting place for the night. having got to mantua in the morning of july , we were enabled to wander through the town before dinner time. our expectations were in no way disappointed. after having shown us the castle and the principal buildings, our amiable soldier-friend insisted upon entertaining us at the inn. "are you provided with small change that is current everywhere?" he asked us. "the fact is," he went on, "that the landlords pursue a regular system of cheating. they refuse to take your small money, so that you are obliged to change a crown, and then at the next inn they decline to accept the coin given to you except under its value. give me a crown, and i'll get you money for it which is current as far as trent." he brought back good pieces of silver, not to the amount of one crown, but of two crowns, asking us to accept the value of the second as a present, "because," he said, "i consider you very honest and straightforward companions." when we were outside the walls, he gave us full particulars of the route we were to take, recommended us to the safeguard of all the angels, and gave us his blessing. "it is worth more in the sight of the almighty and against the devil than the blessing of pope paul at rome by his own sacred hands." this was indeed a happy meeting, and we had reason to be grateful to the lord. not far from mantua, at a spot where the road branches off into four different directions, we came upon two travellers coming from verona. if we had said one pater more or less with our good friend we should have missed them, which would have been a pity, for they turned out to be my former fellow-travellers from kempten to rome, who, having pushed as far as naples, had returned by way of venice; they were making for home by milan and france. they wished me to go their way, and i was very willing; but as nicholas was altogether of a different mind, it would have been wrong to vex the comrade god had so marvellously provided for me. when i told them all about petrus, my interlocutors had no doubt about the danger i had incurred by my imprudent confidence. italians are not of much account. germans, after a long stay in that country, end up by not being worth anything at all; and the proverb to that effect is a true one: "_tedesco italianato è un diavolo incarnato._" i learnt later on, both from writing and from oral news, about the troubles between france and the low countries, and about the obstacles we should have encountered if we had selected the route of milan. it gave me a new subject for being grateful to the lord. we passed near enough to verona to catch a glimpse of the buildings, to judge by which it must be a big town. at trent, where both languages are spoken, and even more german than italian, my pretended infirmity ceased, and it was nicholas' turn to be mute, for the lubeckian dialect is not understood until one gets to brunswick. in italy the scorpions slip in everywhere; into the rooms, under the beds, in the sheets. hence they place before the windows scorpion oil, that is oil in which one of these reptiles has been drowned. when put on the sting the oil stops the effect of the poison. personally, i never caught a glimpse of a scorpion during the whole of my stay in italy. on july we reached botzen, a town of importance, famed for its rich mines. on the th we were at brixen, a pleasant burgh, prettily situated. its chapter enjoys great consideration. dr. gaspard hoyer was its canon, and died there. the augsburg troops under the orders of sebastian schaertlin[ ] had carried the castle of ehrenberg. king ferdinand tried to enter the place with the aid of the miners of botzen, but the pay ran short, and, greatly vexed, the savage horde, which, though by no means devout, after all preferred luther to the pope, made its way home. between brixen and sterzing we had the misfortune of falling in with them. at the sight of our italian dress, and our soldier-like equipment, they shook their spears. "kill the papists; down with the welch scum," they cried. nicholas, who was accustomed to enact the spokesman, uttered a few words in his own dialect; thereupon the imprecations grew louder. "they belong to the low countries; they are no better than the italians." "brothers," i shouted, "you make a mistake. we are faithful germans, lutherans and evangelicals like yourselves. hence, no violence." thereupon we fell a-talking to each other. they complained bitterly of the king, and of his pretensions to carry on a war without a red cent. "kicks instead of pay," they said. "we are much obliged. we are going back to our mines, where, at any rate, we can earn something." we parted quite cordially, and i once more recommended my faithful nicholas to hold his tongue for the future, and to let me do the talking. innspruck, the capital of the tyrol, is a moderately big town with long streets, consisting largely of stables for some thousands of horses, for the kings, the austrian archdukes and their suites frequently halt there. the objurgations of the miners of botzen induced us to change our dress according to the german fashion. our most direct route lay by ulm, cannstadt, spires, frankfurt, then by hesse and brunswick. there are, as it happens, two routes from innspruck, the one for bavaria, the other for swabia. having met at the city gates some people who professed to be going to germany, we followed them without further inquiry. what then was our surprise at getting, not into swabia, but into bavaria, to hall and to ratisbon. well, as we learnt later on, at that very moment the numerous troops the emperor was expecting from france and spain were preparing to enter swabia; the papal troops, whom the imperial messages left little or no truce, arrived at landshut, while all the protestant forces, with the elector of saxony and the landgrave of hesse at their head, occupied the country. but for the lord constituting himself our guide we should have run innumerable perils. we intended to go from hall to ratisbon on a raft, but on the overladen craft there was a horse stamping about in a most disquieting manner, causing the water to well up between the disjointed timber. we preferred to land and to tire our legs to swallowing more water than was necessary to our thirst. half a league down the stream, the pole-men having got rid of the horse, drew near the shore once more to renew their offers of service. we remained faithful, however, to solid earth. when we got to the beautiful monastery of ebersberg, our curiosity tempted us to get an idea of the results of a mendicant's life. as such we humbly and contritely addressed the chancellor, when we entered the abbot's presence. "we have come all the way from rome; our resources are exhausted," we said. after having promised us to do what he can, the chancellor begins to inquire about the italian army. "we left it at bologna," we replied; "it was being reviewed. you'll see it very shortly." this had the effect of turning the saintly dwelling upside down. the monks crowded round the abbot and took to running hither and thither as if bereft of their senses, because for a monastery situated as this was, in the open country, roman mercenaries or schmalkalden soldiers were practically one and the same thing. and inasmuch as our humble persons were forgotten in all this confusion, i said to nicholas: "let us go to the inn and show these 'frocked' individuals that we can do without their soup. a snap for that business, unless we have been too inexperienced at it." we ordered the best dishes and washed them down with generous wine. the echoes of our gay repast must have reached the monastery, and when we had paid our reckoning, we pursued our journey. we stopped four days in the big and beautiful city of ratisbon. king ferdinand, his wife, his daughters and the court ladies in gorgeous dresses, lodged in the principal square, the houses of which where elegantly decorated. we saw the carriage sent by the duke of mantua to his betrothed. it was entirely white, and perfectly built; the iron was replaced everywhere by silver, even for the smallest nail. the team consisted of four magnificent white mares, without the tiniest spot; the harness was of silver, and their crups were ornamented with three rings of the precious metal. dressed in white silk, with boots and whip of the same colour, and silver spurs, the coachman slowly drove thrice round the square. it was very evident that both the emperor and the king were using all their energy. night and day, at home and beyond the frontier, strict guard was kept. the army of bohemia was encamped beyond the danube, while the germans occupied the head of the bridge on the side of the city. we were warned of the danger of venturing among the bohemians; between these madmen and the german soldiers there was nearly every day a fresh dispute resulting in wounds which often proved fatal. on the other hand, the protestant troops were on the move, and it was most difficult to cross their lines. we could, however, not remain in ratisbon. so we plucked up our courage and started, decided not to lose our heads in case of arrest, but to ask to be taken before the superior officer, for, after all, we had no need to fear an interrogatory. what was the danger of saying whence we came and whither we were going? our lot was, moreover, in the hands of him who in italy had confided us to the protection of his angels.[ ] we trudged straight on to nuremberg. the weather was fine, the roads good, and the inns well provisioned. nuremberg is the _oculus germaniae_. "germany," according to the italians, "has but one eye, nuremberg." nuremberg harbours the tradesmen, augsburg the big merchants. we stayed three days in this interesting city, the study of whose civil and ecclesiastical institutions is by no means a waste of time. we there completed our german attire by doublets with short waists. it seemed to me unnecessary to hide the gold and jewels any longer in my clothes, for in spite of the eighty miles from our own native land, we already fancied ourselves in it. the lord of plawe had taken up his quarters at our hostelry. he was a bohemian of important station, an experienced soldier, and a cool-headed, prudent, and clever personage, enjoying much favour with the electors and the princes. he was known by all the dignitaries of france, germany, and italy. his history may prove interesting to my children. the lord of plawe had no children, and to prevent the lapse of his fiefs to the suzerain lord, he prevailed upon his wife to pretend being pregnant, and arranged with a shepherd of the neighbourhood, a strong, robust fellow, whose wife was genuinely in that condition. the newborn being of the male sex, it was carried clandestinely to the castle, where they had great rejoicings, a magnificent christening with high-born godparents. seven years later, however, the lady of plawe really gave birth to a son; the two children were brought up like brothers. when he came of age the elder visited the courts, and received a cordial welcome everywhere. the father died, and the elder, feeling himself cramped at home, abandoned the property to the younger in consideration of a yearly allowance. the mother is taken ill in her turn, and before her death reveals to her own child the whole of the secret. the elder, whose allowance is stopped, institutes a claim, and is answered that he is the mere son of a shepherd. the affair is referred to king ferdinand, the suzerain lord, the lords of prawe bearing the title of burgrave of mesnia, and first chancellor of the kingdom of bohemia. to prove his parentage he produced the many letters in which his father recommended him in special terms to the emperor, and to the princes as his lawful heir. several important personages, the majority belonging to the evangelicals took an interest in his case, and provided largely for his maintenance. the principal welch and german universities all declared that he proved his affiliation. king ferdinand, though, leant to the other side, no doubt _ratione papisticae religionis_. under these difficult circumstances, this gentleman considered it better not to take service in the war between the emperor and the league of schmalkalden, inasmuch as he would neither be unfaithful to his master nor to his conscience. the catastrophe which he dreaded nevertheless overtook him. about six months after the termination of the war, when, probably, he felt exceedingly pleased with himself on account of his clever abstention, he was laid by the heels by order of king ferdinand, shipped on a raft, and taken to hungary; and from that time he was no more heard of. on august we only reached nordhausen in the harz mountains, just as they were closing the city gates, but sufficiently early, though, to notice ten corpses tied to as many posts. the guard, which had been reinforced, was inclined to leave us outside. they pointed to the men that had been executed. "if they are there, it is because they deserved it," we answered; "ours is a different case." when we got inside we could not find a shelter anywhere. i inquired for the dwelling of the burgomaster and found him at home. after the few customary inquiries about our names, our place of birth and our destination, the burgomaster questioned us about the beginning of the hostilities. we told him what we knew, and then exposed our embarrassing situation to him. "never during this painful journey, not even in italy, had we met with such inhuman conduct," we said. "we are not asking for charity. we are willing to pay for what we get; nobody shall have cause to complain of us. we ask you, therefore, to direct us to a respectable place of shelter." our very sordid appearance did not prevent the burgomaster from considering us altogether inoffensive, and, like a man of sense, he explained apologetically, "our citizens," he remarked, "are still under the influence of a strong alarm, for we know for certain that a band subsidized by the confederate of hell who reigns at rome is scouring the saxon country, poisoning wells and pastures and setting fire to everything else. the proof of it is in the ten executed men whom you must have noticed at your arrival. their crime admits of no doubt." "agreed," i replied, "but if our conscience were in the least reproaching us, do you think we should have the courage to present ourselves before the first magistrate of the town?" the burgomaster told one of his servants to take us with his compliments to a certain private individual, who happened to be a butcher with a stock of beautiful, luscious meat. on the hearth the beef was simmering in a large pot, no doubt to be retailed hot next morning. we asked him for some of that; then inquired about the liquor he could offer us. "i have got some excellent nordhausen beer," he said. we, however, were used to wine. "cannot you give us some wine? that's what we want with our meat." "if you care to pay for it. it's so much per measure." "here's the money." "do you want any fish?" "yes; let us have a comfortable evening after this rough day. come and sit yourself down with us and keep us company." he stared at us very hard, not knowing what to think. in spite of his knowing look, he behaved very well to us. when our hunger and thirst were appeased, the butcher asked us whether we would go to bed or remain where we were. "bring us some clean straw, and that will be enough for us. we shall not have the trouble of dressing in the morning," we answered. besides the straw he gave us pillows, downright excellent beds, and snowy sheets; hence, in wishing him good-night, we assured him that we were born to understand each other. next morning, the one who was the first to rise found the door bolted; we were obliged to wait for our host. we settled the reckoning with him, and the servant who had prepared our couch got a tip. we stopped a day and a half at luneburg, which we reached on august , and in view of our approaching meeting with our nearest and dearest, we paid attention to our dress. we crossed the burgh of moelln, where eulenspiegel lies buried, but at lubeck a messenger who caught us up informed me that my uncle andreas schwartz was living at moelln with his wife and children, and begged of me to retrace my steps. i spent a whole day with him, and when we had chatted to our heart's content he provided me with a horse and attendant as far as lubeck. at the city gate i wanted to turn short; perhaps i was still feeling the effect of the stirrup cup. my horse gave way, and for a moment the rider and the animal lay motionless. they were under the impression that i had broken the left thigh bone; but i got up safe and well. at lubeck my faithful travelling companion loyally repaid his debt. i took the coach, and at last, after a journey of eight weeks' (eighteen days of which had been spent in resting at various places, the distance from rome to stralsund being german miles, and consequently five times as many welch ones), i heard the "welcome" from my father, mother, brother and five sisters, all of whom were in excellent health. together with dr. hoyer's letter, i handed over the objects restored by cardinal st. flore according to the inventory. my parents gave me two of the rings. as i was as sore as the most foundered horse, my mother had a bath prepared for me twice a week, and she herself rubbed my thigh with curd soap, so that my limbs soon recovered their usual suppleness. part ii chapter i i am appointed pomeranian secretary--something about my diurnal and nocturnal journeys with the chancellor--missions in the camps--dangers in the wake of the army when i had recovered from the fatigue of my travels, i came to the conclusion that a life of monotony and frequent visits to the tavern were not at all to my taste. the day would come when i had a wife and children to maintain; i therefore wanted a means of livelihood. i voted for the scribal occupation, and had recourse to the influence of superintendent-general knipstrow to obtain a position at the chancellery of wolgast. our friend's efforts having been successful, i was summoned to wollin, where the prince was going to hold a diet. the journey by coach enabled me to make ample acquaintance both with the councillors and with my colleagues. i entered upon my duties on november , . the staff of the chancellery was composed of jacob citzewitz, chancellor; erasmus hausen, accountant-general; joachim rust, proto-notary; johannes gottschalk, lawrence dinnies, christopher labbun and heinrich altenkuke, secretaries. i need only mention for form's sake valentine von eichstedt, a student from greifswald, whom the chancellor wished to initiate in the dispatch of current affairs. valentine hung about the office, now and again copying a fragment of a letter. he was wretchedly dressed; his poor blue jacket scarcely reached to his waist, while, on the other hand, his hose fell over his boots. rust and gottschalk refused to have him at the clerks' table; he had his meals lower down with the servants. in spite of this, valentine, at the retirement of erasmus hausen, was appointed to the audit office through the influence of the chancellor. in order to get him into the habit of pleading he was entrusted with the cases that were settled by mutual agreement; after which he was sent to wittenberg to finish his studies, and in a very short period he became accountant-general. a few years later citzewitz gave up his position of chancellor to him. the protégé paid his benefactor in the usual way of the world, and on that chapter i myself could say a great deal. the experience i had gained at the imperial chamber and in the chancelleries compelled rust and gottschalk to acknowledge that i could handle my pen, and inasmuch as the chancellor preferred my work to theirs, they seized every opportunity to do me harm. i had only to ask them for a few materials for this or that work to be sure to get it badly done and teeming with inaccuracies. the dissolution of the league of schmalkalden[ ] and the threatening attitude of the emperor imparted a feverish activity to the correspondence which was being exchanged between our princes, the elector of brandenburg and the elector of saxony. the latter spent the winter very sadly at altenburg. chancellor jacob citzewitz was the soul of these negotiations; his experience of imperial and provincial diets, his learning heightened by eloquence, the personal consideration he enjoyed, his imposing figure, his lofty mind, and his assiduous labours all these, in fact, singled him out to represent the princes both in the councils and on more solemn occasions. being fully aware of the weightiness of his task, he wholly devoted himself to it; all the enactments of the princes were drawn up by his pen and defied criticism. when citzewitz at the termination of a debate asked: "who undertakes the inditing?" all the councillors cried in chorus: "that's solomon's business," for that was the nickname they had bestowed upon him. day and night, on horseback or on wheels, i scoured the highways in company of the chancellor. starting from berlin in the evening, we reached stettin the next afternoon in sufficient time to present the report. then there were the nights spent at work with the chancellor, who dictated to me the decisions to be submitted to the council on the morrow. i made a fair draft of them before the sitting, so that immediately after their having been read they could be sealed and dispatched. if my children should wish to compute the amount of labour i gave to the court and to stralsund they will derive a salutary lesson from the reward these labours have brought me in my old days: _in fine laborum_, ingratitude. owing to those constant journeys i did not spend four weeks in six months at wolgast, and still less at the chancellery. i lodged with master ernest, the cook of his serene highness duke philip, and of his august father and grandfather. ernest was an honest and god-fearing man. the year was an anxious one for the courts of stettin and wolgast, and the news that the duke of wurtemberg had tendered his submission accelerated the departure of a mission to the emperor. it was instructed to deny all participation of the princes in the league of schmalkalden. the envoys of duke barnim were dr. falcke, in the capacity of chancellor, and captain jacob putkammer; those of duke philip, captain moritz damitz and heinrich normann. i was designated to accompany those four personages, and on march we started by way of silesia. at zittau we were obliged to leave damitz in the doctor's hands; after which we crossed the forest of bohemia and reached lertmeritz; next to prague, the principal and best fortified town of the kingdom. we spent several days there in order to get an idea of the condition of affairs. the dislike of the bohemians to march against the elector of saxony was evident, but king ferdinand brought heavy pressure to bear upon them, he called up many of his troops both from silesia and from hungary. these hungarian horsemen, called husards, happen to be pitiless brigands. the king had placed them under the command of sebastian von der weitmülen, who, at the beginning of the war, had been appointed regent of the kingdom. the headquarters were at eger, where this soldiery cut the children's hands and feet off to put them into their hats instead of plumes. the councillors sent me to reconnoitre in the direction of eger, at schlackenwerth, and at schlackenwald. my guide followed on foot. he was an intelligent lad, speaking both german and bohemian. i ascertained that the bohemians had cut down the trees in the wood, and as such made the route impassable for the horse and artillery, it was even impossible for the landsknechten to cross it with their standards flying. after that, the councillors sent me to the castle of gaspard pflug, to whom the states of the country had entrusted the command of the troops.[ ] he was very reserved. "what are we to do?" he said, looking perplexed. "the elector of saxony is our ally, our co-religionist; we cannot leave him to his fate. on the other hand, ferdinand is our king. are we to jeopardize our liberties?" gaspard pflug, having taken refuge at magdeburg after the capture of the elector, built himself opposite the cathedral an elegant dwelling, where he ended his days, the king having confiscated his property. while the elector encamped before leipzig, the emperor overran the algau and swabia, imposing heavy fines and big garrisons to the towns forced to capitulate. the spaniards committed every excess, and above all, in wurtemberg.[ ] on april and the sun assumed so sombre an aspect that everybody rushed to the threshold of his house; both experts and scientific men foretold strange events. [illustration: stettin. wittenberg. spires. _from old prints_.] one day i was strolling alone outside lertmeritz around the walls (for the time hung heavily on my hands), when an individual, his eyes blazing with anger, assailed me without warning, vilifying me and trying to fling me into the moat. he was evidently under the impression of having come upon a spy. i endeavoured to convince him to the contrary; the difficulty was to understand each other. finally, with hands clasped together as if they were bound, i gave him to understand with a sign of the head that i was ready to enter the town with him. thanks to heaven, he consented to this, although he did not cease his imprecations. before i had fairly entered our hostelry two members of the council came to ask our deputies to forbid their people to leave the city and the promenading on the walls. "we know very well that we have nothing to fear from you," they said, "but our citizens are quick to take umbrage, and just now one of your folk narrowly escaped coming to grief." on april the news came to lertmeritz that two days previously the elector of saxony had been made a prisoner. immediately leaving bohemia we started in the direction of torgau, but to get to the camp at wittemberg the perils were endless, for the spanish troops, whose lines we had to cross, shrank from no misdeeds.[ ] hence it was resolved that i should go to wittenberg to get a safe-conduct--a decision against which i protested. "how am i to pass without the smallest bit of parchment?" "never mind," exclaimed damitz; "the lord is the best safeguard." "in that case," i retorted, "are you not yourselves under the divine protection?" my argument was, however, in vain; my life weighed less in the balance than that of my superiors. in my capacity of a member of the missions to bohemia and to the camp of the elector, i wore a yellow gorget which was the insignia of the protestants. i was obliged to hide it in my breast and to replace it with the one bought for me, the red gorget of the imperialists. and thus i started. if they had caught me with the double insignia upon me, my account would soon have been settled. i should have been slung up on the nearest tree. i crossed mühlberg, where the elector, wounded in the cheek, had been made a prisoner on the very spot where his passion for the chase caused so much damage to his unfortunate subjects. wherever the eye turned there were signs of the recent battle; broken lances, shattered muskets, and torn-up harnesses littered the ground, and all along the road soldiers dying of their wounds and from want of sustenance. around wittenberg itself all the villages were deserted; the inhabitants had taken flight without leaving anything behind them. here, the corpse of a peasant, a group of dogs fighting for the entrails; there, a landsknecht with just a breath of life left to him, but the body putrefying, his arms stretched out at their widest, and his legs far enough apart to put a bar between them. at the end of my journey and within sight of the spanish troops i passed a spaniard, who said to me: "my good and handsome horseman, your service with the emperor is but of recent date." i rode a few steps further; then, undoing my gorget, i rubbed it against my boot to make it appear less new. at last, i reached the camp, where i lost several days in fruitless endeavours. every now and again there was firing from wittenberg. some pomeranian horse-troopers with whom i had made acquaintance warned me not to keep to the high road if i should venture in that direction, but to go at random in order to avoid becoming a butt. a couple of steps in front of me a ball whizzed so closely past an individual's head that the shock or the fright felled him to the ground, where he was picked up for dead. from that moment i suspended my strolls. dr. seld, the vice-chancellor, whom i succeeded in seeing,[ ] did not disguise the deep irritation of the emperor. i answered that neither duke philip nor his brother, barnim, notwithstanding the former's marriage with the sister of the elector of saxony, had given the slightest assistance to the protestants, either in money, men or deeds, and that it would not be difficult for his majesty to convince himself of this. nevertheless my negotiations made no progress. it was said in the camp that after the defeat of the elector, when christopher carlowitzi[ ] the principal counsellor of maurice, came to salute the emperor, whose docile instrument he was, the latter exclaimed: "well, carlowitz, what is going to happen?" "everything is in your majesty's hands," carlowitz replied. "yes, yes, something will happen," was the retort. and when the elector bent the knee before the emperor, saying, "most clement emperor and lord," king ferdinand interrupted with, "ah, so he is your emperor now? but what about ingoldstadt?[ ] wait a while. we shall soon settle your account." and when the death sentence was delivered, ferdinand insisted upon its prompt execution. the marquis de saluces, on the other hand, repeated to the emperor, even before the arrival of the elector of brandenburg, that the best sheep in his flock was the elector of saxony, and that his execution would rouse the whole of germany. as i found it impossible to get a safe-conduct, i returned to torgau, and immediately after hearing my report, our embassy ordered its carriages and took the direct road to stettin. inasmuch as the elector of brandenburg loudly promised his good offices with the emperor, the princes dispatched me with a letter of thanks to him to the camp at wittenberg. they also prompted the language i was to hold to the vice-chancellor and to the other imperial counsellors.[ ] to accelerate matters they prepared six relays of horses for me, with precise indications on paper as to their whereabouts, though i started from wolgast on a pitiful cart-horse, equipped anyhow, for neither saddle, bridle nor stirrups were in condition. they thought that it did not matter, as i had to change animals at a short distance. so far so good. but neither at the first, second, third, fourth nor fifth stage was there a sign of a horse. the last stage was brandenburg--the old. abraham gatzkow, a gentleman of lower pomerania, had indeed provided a downright good and properly equipped saddle-horse for me, only on the day of my arrival he had mounted it for a ride to the camp, so that the same jade carried me to the end of my journey. on june i alighted at the tent of the elector of brandenburg, and when presenting my dispatch, i begged of chancellor weinleben to spare me a long stay. next morning when i called again, he exclaimed: "oh, the affair takes more time than you think," which remark did not prevent my insisting upon an answer on june , inasmuch as the elector went several times a day to the emperor, and that therefore he had no lack of opportunity to broach the subject. moreover, there was need for urgency; they had just thrown a bridge across the elbe and the emperor had transferred his quarters to the other side of the river, a sure sign of his approaching departure. to all which arguments on my part, chancellor weinleben angrily replied: "the interests of princes are discussed with minds at rest. just look at the presumption of a simple messenger. wait till you are told to go and then go. here, this is the elector's reply. take it, go, and leave me in peace." i stopped at the first dense clump of trees in the wood, opened the letter, and immediately turned my horse's head. "what do you want now?" yelled the chancellor, when he caught sight of me. "am i not to have any peace from you?" "my gracious masters," i replied, "have authorized me to open the letter of his electoral highness and to act in consequence. the letter i have just read proves once more the brotherly feelings of the elector, but as he is striking his tent, i think it necessary respectfully to remind him of his generous assurances. i shall wait for him at his leaving the emperor's presence, for i am bound to bring back to wolgast something more than vague words." at this little speech the chancellor altered his tone. he ceased to address me familiarly as "thou," and, in fact, made somewhat exaggerated apologies, swearing by all his gods that in reality he had not the faintest idea of the affair, but that henceforth he was my staunch ally and that his master should not leave the emperor without ardently pleading the cause of our princes. when the elector went to the imperial tent i followed him at a distance, and the moment he got into the saddle again i galloped on his track, for i foresaw his departure for berlin. i was just at the head of the bridge of boats, which was entirely unprovided with parapets or barriers, when i espied coming from the opposite side a heavy cart. time was precious. i pursue my quarry, and my right stirrup catches in the wheel and my valiant mount, in spite of its prancing and rearing, cannot extricate itself, or even hold its own against four strong draught horses. there is no room to turn, and there seems not even a possibility of saving myself by sacrificing the animal; both it and i seem inevitably doomed to perish by drowning. as for any human help, i do not as much as expect it. even if they could have assisted me, the spaniards at the end of the bridge would have been particularly careful not to do so. just fancy their delight at seeing a german making a plunge with his horse into the elbe; the sight would have been too delightful willingly to forego it. when our distress is at its height, when neither our father nor our mother is able to save us, providence stretches forth his protecting hand. it happened then, by this merciful grace; the rotten strap suddenly gave way, leaving the stirrup entangled in the wheel and freeing my leg. it was a startling confirmation of the divine word that the righteous shall see good come out of evil; for had the equipment been brand-new, of the most solid leather and even embroidered with gold and pearls, that harness would have sent me into the stream as food for the fishes. at last i managed to join the elector. he sent me word that the opportunity for interceding with the emperor in behalf of the princes of pomerania had not presented itself, but that the counsellors he left behind with the emperor would look to the affair and keep the dukes informed of everything. why had i not gone to the bottom of the elbe? in the camp itself the tale went round that the king of the romans, duke maurice, and after them, the emperor had made a very careful inspection of the church of the castle of willemberg, having been led to believe (the emperor and the king especially) that lamps and wax tapers were constantly burning day and night on luther's tomb, and that prayers were said there just as in the romish churches before the relics of the saints. at treuenbrietzen i made my report to chancellor citzewitz. as he was awaiting the arrival of the pomeranian counsellors who were to accompany the emperor to halle, he sent me to retain quarters and to give notice to the brunswicker captain, werner hahn, to have twenty horsemen ready at bitterfeld on june . on the morning of the th, in fact, the mission alighted at the general hostelry outside bitterfeld. the captain of the husard-escort had, however, given the preference to an inn in the town. seeing no sign of the brunswickers, the counsellors put up their carriage, so that the captain at his return was under the impression that the mission was gone, and meeting with the horsemen, ordered them to face about, he being convinced that the deputies had taken another route. evening was drawing near; my business was finished, the quarters had been retained, the supper ordered, and the beds ready. i had taken advantage of the opportunity to renew my wardrobe, and, with my new clothes on, i took a stroll outside the gates through which the mission had to pass. espying from the top of a mound a troop of advancing horsemen, i went back in hot haste afraid of a reprimand. at the same moment two spanish bandits, half-naked, for their rags scarcely covered them, ran after me across the fields, the one on foot, the other on a kind of wretched farmer's cob--apparently stolen--and with a pistol at the saddle bow. casting a careful look round to assure themselves that there were no witnesses to their contemplated deed, one had already raised his pistol when the brunswicker horsemen arrived on the spot. "_sunt isti ex tuâ parte?_" he asked. "_senior, si_," i quickly answered. "ah, landsknecht, landsknecht," he said, replacing his weapon, and followed by his companion, making off as fast as he could. the adventures of that evening were, however, not at an end. i found the gates of the town shut, and a trumpeter galloping along the walls and blowing with all his might. i had not the faintest idea of what it all meant, when the captain of husards appeared upon the spot, recognizes, and hails me. "what are you doing here, and what has happened?" he asked. "why are the gates shut, and why is the alarm being sounded?" while confessing my total ignorance, i began to ask about the ambassadors; thereupon great surprise of the captain at their being waited for. the matter seemed all the more strange to him in that he on the road fell in with some spanish horsemen, who told him that they had been sent to meet a mission. what if our counsellors should have been attacked by these people, decoyed into the wood, and plundered? of course, i felt very anxious to inform the brunswicker captain, so that he might send a reconnoitring party in the direction of bitterfeld. finally, the noise ceased in the town, and the gates were reopened. i immediately reported matters to w. hahn, who in the early morning sent out his horsemen. an hour afterwards there appeared upon the scene abraham gatzkow, the same gentleman from lower pomerania who had been instructed to keep a fresh horse for me for the last stage from brandenburg-the-old to the camp at wittenberg. the envoys had sent him on in front, impatient to know why the escort had failed to appear at the appointed spot, a mishap which prejudiced them against me. odd to relate, neither sleidan nor beuter mentions the alarm to which i referred just now; hence, some further particulars will not be deemed superfluous. nothing is more frequent in the army and less easy to prevent than the stealing of horses. if an animal takes your fancy, some scoundrel is ready to get it for you for a matter of six or eight crowns. if you keep it six or eight weeks elsewhere, so as to change its habits, and change its tail, its mane and other peculiarities, you may safely bring it back to the camp. a certain german gentleman proceeded in that way with the stallion of a spaniard; he sent it away to his estates. when the affair had been forgotten the animal reappeared. it so happened that the german horsemen (eight squadrons at the lowest computation) encamped in the middle of a delightful plain, watered by the saale, while the whole of the infantry of their nation was quartered in the town; a providential circumstance, for if the foot had come to the aid of the horse, there would have been nothing short of a massacre. the emperor, therefore, was well inspired in ordering at once the closing of all the gates. the spaniards occupied the height around the castle. at dusk, when taking the horses to be watered, a spanish lad recognizes the stallion, cries out that it belongs to his master and wants to lead it away. the young german groom resists, and is supported by three or four of his countrymen. the spaniard rallies a dozen, and the german immediately finds himself at the head of a score. the two parties increase every minute, and the first shots are fired. posted on the heights, the spaniards have the advantage of the position, their balls going through the walls of the tents, kill several gentlemen who are seated at table; the germans give as good as they get. a spanish lord issues from the town with words of peace from the emperor; he has magnificent golden chains round his neck and is riding a superb animal. at the sight of him there is a general cry: "fire on the dog of a spaniard." he advances, nevertheless, on the bridge, but a projectile brings down his mount, which rolls into the saale, and is drowned there with his master, the wearer of the beautiful collar. nine days before this, at wittenberg, a rotten strap had, with the help of god, saved my life. the gentleman covered with gold and dressed in velvet, on the other hand, miserably perished. the emperor, while all this was going on, sent the son of king ferdinand, the archduke maximilian (afterwards emperor). he felt convinced that it would suffice to restore order, but the moment the archduke opened his lips the germans repeated the cry: "down with the spaniard." the archduke was wounded in the right arm, which he wore during several weeks in a black sling. the emperor himself had to come forth. "dear germans," he said, "i know you to be without reproach. i therefore ask you to be calm. you shall be indemnified fully and in every respect, and on my imperial word, to-morrow you shall see the spaniards strung up on the highest gibbets." this promise had the effect of quieting the riot, and the gates were opened. the inquiry having shown that the loss of the germans amounted to eighteen grooms or stablemen besides seven horses, and that of the opposing party to not less than seventy men, the emperor, though professing to be ready to make good the value of the horse and even to punish the spaniards according to his promise, expressed the hope that the germans would consider themselves sufficiently avenged, inasmuch as their adversaries had suffered four times more than they had. during the evening of june , the electors of saxony and brandenburg made their entry into halle with the landgrave philip of hesse in their midst. at six in the afternoon of the next day the landgrave "made honourable amends" in the great hall of the imperial quarters in the presence of the electors, princes, foreign potentates, ambassadors, counts, colonels, captains, and in one word, of everybody who could find room inside or catch a glimpse of the scene through the windows. but while his chancellor, on his knees, close against him, humbly craved pardon, philip, ever inclined to raillery, smiled with an air of bravado, and to such a degree as to make the emperor exclaim, while threatening him with his outstretched index: "go on; i'll teach you to laugh." alas, he kept his word. our counsellors decided to leave me behind incognito at the imperial camp with a gentleman of lower pomerania named george von wedel, who having murdered his cousin and having been exiled by duke barnim, had entered the emperor's service with nine-and-twenty horse troopers. his goodwill towards our mission and my instances finally got him his pardon. that was how the horse on which i had left wolgast was to carry me as far as augsburg. having started from halle on june , the emperor stopped three days at naumberg. on the th, very early in the morning, he was at the general headquarters at some distance beyond the wall. he wore a violet cap and a black cloak trimmed with velvet several inches wide. suddenly there was a shower, and immediately the emperor sent for a hat and a grey felt cloak to the town; but meanwhile he turned the cloak he wore and kept his headdress under it. poor man, who spent untold gold on the war, and who stood bareheaded in the rain rather than spoil his clothes. the spanish escort of the landgrave preceded his imperial majesty by a day's march, and committed unheard-of excesses. next morning the corpses were strewn where the emperor passed. women and girls suffered the most terrible outrages; as for the men, after having suspended them by their genital parts, the barbarians tortured them to make them reveal the places where they had hidden their money, after which, with one stroke of their swords, flush with the abdomen, they detached the victim. the emperor slept at coburg, in franconia. the german horsemen took up their quarters in the adjacent villages. every house was deserted, the dwellings of the nobility as well as the peasant's farms; nowhere was there a soul to be seen, for, having been sorely tried the previous day by the passage of the spaniards, the population dreaded renewed scenes of horror. in one house we found a _membrum virile_; elsewhere, stretched on a bed a bloodstained body, exactly in the condition in which those abominable miscreants had put them one after the other. the servants of von wedel dug a grave by my orders for the corpse and the _membrum virile_. our first encampment after that was a village amidst fertile plains. i unsaddled my horse in order to let it graze in peace until the morning. in the same spot there was a handsome gentleman's dwelling, in its open courtyard a wagon with four strong horses; on the wagon two barrels of exquisite wine. capons, poultry and pheasants were running about in all directions. i leave people to imagine the massacre, and how, on our return to our tent, we quickly plucked, boiled and roasted the game. we were the absolute masters. there was nothing to fear; the granary was full to overflowing, and we replenished our sacks to the very edge. in short, horses, vehicle and wine, and everything else was carried away. the barrels were emptied on our way; the team was sold at nuremberg for what it would bring, for we ourselves had had it very cheaply. the sight of our plenty attracted the notice of duke frederick von liegnitz,[ ] so we invited him to share it. two joyous damsels in gorgeous silk attire were of the party and performed their duty well. the servants also shared in the feast which was prolonged till dawn. the nights, however, were very short. it was full daylight when, wishing to saddle my horse, i discovered it had been stolen. immediately, according to 'the usages and customs of war, i chose the best nag at hand, currycombed, bridled and mounted it in the space of a few minutes. on july , towards midday, the emperor made his entry into bamberg with a numerous suite. the elector of saxony occupied a house on the outside of the town on the right, just at the turn of the road, so that he could watch the city and the country. the captive was at the window just as his imperial majesty passed, mounted on a small spanish horse. he made a profound bow; thereupon the emperor burst out laughing sarcastically, and stared at him as long as he could. the spaniards took with them from bamberg four hundred women, girls and female servants, and did not let them go until they reached nuremberg. the fathers, husbands and brothers followed in their wake; the father looking for his daughter, the husband for his better half, the brother for his sister; at nuremberg each found his own again. oh, those spaniards! what a nation, to dare do such things after the cessation of hostilities, in a friendly country and under the very eyes of the sovereign. the latter, however, displayed a relentless severity. each evening they put up a gibbet as well as his tent, and the former did not remain long untenanted, but it was all in vain. i suddenly came across my horse in a meadow near the nuremberg gates. i put my saddle on its back, and left the animal i had taken at coburg. his majesty journeyed by small stages in consequence of the excessive heat. the diet, in fact, was summoned only for september . this slowness gave me the leisure to ride with george von wedel on the flank of the army, from its head to its tail. it was an interesting spectacle, this mass of men under arms and in battle order; here germans, farther on spaniards. in the evening we returned to our own. far from keeping to the highway, the soldiers marched straight in front of them, making a roadway four times wider than the ordinary one, upsetting all obstacles, knocking down enclosures and filling in moats and ditches. one day the restive horse of george von wedel insisted on getting into the ranks of the spanish, who could not or would not get out of the way, and as the rider cried angrily: "very well, let the french kill thee, then," a half-drunken soldier, mistaking the words, retorted: "_senor mio, no soy frances, mas soy un espanol_." the spaniards, in fact, think themselves much superior to the french. as we were getting near nuremberg there was no longer any need for me to hide myself. i took up my quarters at the hotel selected by duke frederick von liegnitz, at that period trying to interest the emperor in his paternal affairs. that prince was never sober, and at the refusal of his counsellors, he caroused with the suite of margrave johannes. one day the duke and six servitors of the margrave cut the right sleeves out of their doublets and their shirts. with bare arms, their hose undone so as to show their shirts, their heads uncovered, and list slippers on their feet, the seven persons marched in single file behind the town musicians, playing with all their might, and went after dinner to the duke henry of brunswick's. prince frederick held in one hand a set of dice, and in the other a quantity of gold pieces; naturally the crowd ran with them, the foreigners foremost, italians and spaniards delighted to see "these sots of germans" go by. the wine produced such a strong effect that liegnitz, on entering the apartment of the duke, stumbled across the table, both hands foremost. there was only one dice left, and not a trace of the gold. he was unable to utter a syllable, and dropped on the floor. four brunswick gentlemen carried him to a bed on the story above. the emperor, it is said, was very angry at the germans making such a show of themselves. it would be a mistake to conclude that prince frederick's education had been neglected, for only a few days beforehand, though he had also been drinking, i was quite surprised at the many stories of the old testament he narrated without quoting the sacred text; he even applied some of them very ingenuously to his own situation. certainly there can be nothing surpassing a careful education, provided the holy spirit guides the young man when he becomes responsible for his own acts; that is what we ought to pray for to the almighty. as for the consequences of drunkenness, that inexhaustible fount of many sins, the duke von liegnitz was a terrible example of them. one night when he could no longer find some one in the humour to "keep up with him," he came to my door, trying to beguile me out of my bed. i finally told him that to sit drinking at such an hour was beyond my strength, and that i humbly begged his serene highness to husband both our healths. he resigned himself, though reluctantly, to take "no" for an answer. i took good care not to open. after a fortnight's stay, the emperor left nuremberg. duke frederick was so matutinal on the day of departure that on arriving about six o'clock at the imperial residence, he was told the emperor had been gone for at least two hours. not daring to follow the sovereign, he merely sent two counsellors to augsburg. i had bought at nuremberg a handsome rapier which i wore with a spanish belt. one morning after breakfast, being alone, i fell asleep in my chair. when i awoke i found that a skilful thief had cleverly unfastened it and carried it away. i bought another weapon, and when i had settled my bill, saddled my horse and made for augsburg, where i landed three days before the emperor. prince frederick went back to his own country with his suite; he never improved. two students were returning to their homes; _en route_ they breakfast at liegnitz, and feeling jovial and gay they started singing. the duke, who was in his cups, was annoyed at the noise, had them apprehended, conducted outside the town, and beheaded. next morning, before recommencing his libations, he took a ride with some of his counsellors in the direction of the place of execution. at the sight of the blood he begins to ask questions, and is informed that the executed men are the two students he sentenced the previous day. "what had they done?" he asked in the greatest surprise. at the end of one of his orgies he ordered his counsellors to lock him up in prison on bread and water. if they disobeyed him they would answer with their heads. the dungeon already held several occupants. his highness was taken to it, and the gaoler received the strictest instructions. when the fumes of his wine had vanished, the duke, in a livelier mood, conversed for a while with the other prisoners; then he shouted to the warder to let him out. "i am too strictly forbidden to do so," was the answer. he, nevertheless, went to inform the counsellors; the latter delayed for three days, during which time the prince left not a moment respite to the turnkeys. finally, the counsellors came themselves; they heard his shouting and his supplications, but they remembered his threat to have their heads off, and they knew that on that subject he did not jest. he had to reassure them over and over again before he was allowed to go free. three years later the same prince journeyed to stettin for no other purpose than to have a drinking bout with some of the courtiers. at the news of his coming, duke barnim went away with everybody except the women. at his arrival the visitor found neither the duke nor any gentlemen of the least standing, and at the castle they sent him into the town to a house assigned to him as his quarters. an old man lay dying there, and they naturally expected that this would shorten liegnitz's visit. the very opposite happened. the prince comfortably settled himself at the dying man's bedside, recited passages from the scriptures to him until his last moment, and closed his eyes when the breath was out of him. the collector valentin presenting himself, poor box in hand, the duke dropped a few crowns into it; after this, he sent for mourning cloth for two cloaks, one for himself, one for valentin, with whom, he said, he wished to accompany the corpse to the cemetery. the duchess, however, would not hear of this. he was therefore quartered in the castle, just above the chancellerie, and opposite the women's quarters, so that they could converse from one window to another. i had been to the kitchen. as i was crossing the courtyard, the duke, passing his head out of the window and making a speaking trumpet of his hands, shouted with all his might to me: "hi-there!" i knew him from nuremberg, and was consequently familiar with the manner of treating him, so i answered: "hello!" at which he was delighted. "what a nice fellow," he cried. "for heaven's sake, come up; we'll keep each other company, and try to enliven each other." i thanked him humbly and continued my way. duke barnim's absence being somewhat prolonged, his guest liegnitz had eventually to think about going. the princely presents of the duchess made him comfortable for some time. health, welfare, country, were all ruined by his roystering conduct. when drink had killed him, his wife, a duchess of mecklenburg, saw herself and her children reduced to the direst privation. she had to inform not only her equals, but the magistrates of stralsund of her distress, and to declare herself unable to bring up her son according to his rank. she merely asked for slight help, scarcely more than alms. the council of stralsund sent her a few crowns by one of the messengers she dispatched in all directions. [illustration: the diet of augsburg. _from an old engraving_.] chapter ii a twelve months' stay at augsburg during the diet--something about the emperor and princes--sebastian vogelsberg--concerning the interim--journey to cologne on july , , i dismounted at an inn in the wine market at augsburg. the host was a person of consideration, and endowed with good sense; he was a master of one of the corporations. the latter had administered the city's affairs for more than a century. during a similar number of years the corporations of nuremberg had ceded their power in that respect to the patricians. the augsburg corporations, being evangelicals, had sided against the emperor; consequently his imperial majesty proposed to exclude them at the forthcoming diet from the government, in favour of the aristocracy, which had remained faithful to the ancient faith. i took two rooms (each with an alcove, or sleeping closet, attached to it), of which the host had no need for his travelling patrons. the ambassadors settled in one; the other was set apart for their administration, which was composed of jacob citzewitz, chancellor; two secretaries of duke barnim, and myself. i sold my horse with its equipment, which was not worth much. i took what i could get for it; fodder was very dear, and the animal was no longer of the least use to me. the emperor and his army arrived at the end of july. the landgrave remained behind at donauwerth, under the guard of a spanish detachment, while the elector, brought to augsburg, took up his quarters with the welsers, two houses away from the imperial residence, and on the other side of a kind of alley by the side of my inn. a passage made between these two houses by means of a bridge thrown over the alley provided communication between the apartments of his imperial majesty and those of the elector. the captive prince had his own kitchens. his chancellor, von monkwitz, was always near him; he was served by his own attendants, so that the spaniards had no pretext to enter his room or his sleeping closet. the duke of alva and other gentlemen of the imperial suite constantly kept him company; the time was spent in pleasant conversations and equally agreeable recreations. they had arranged a list for the jousts in the courtyard of the dwelling, which was as superb a mansion as any royal one. the elector went out on horseback to the beautiful sites and spots of the town, namely, the various gardens, cultivated with much art. he had been very fond from his youth of swordplay, and while he remained well and active he indulged in all kinds of martial exercise. they therefore left him to superintend the assaults at arms, but he did not stir without an escort of spanish soldiers. he was left free to read what he pleased, except in the latter days, namely, after his refusal to accept the interim. at donauwerth, on the other hand, the landgrave had a guard even in his own apartment. if he looked out of the window two spaniards craned their necks by his side. drums and fifes told him of the guard coming on duty and of the guard that was being relieved. armed sentries watched in the prisoner's room; they were relieved once during the night, and when those coming on duty entered the room, the others, when the shrill music had ceased, drew the curtains of the bed aside, saying: "we commit him to your care. keep a good watch." the emperor's words to the landgrave, "i'll teach you to laugh," were not an empty threat. before retiring to rest, his imperial majesty, to the terror of many, had a gibbet erected in front of the town hall; by the side of the gibbet, the strapado, and, facing it, a scaffold at about an ordinary man's height from the ground. this was intended to hold the rack, and the beheading, the strangulating, the quartering, and kindred operations were to be carried out on it. the emperor had sent to spain for his secretary, a grandee, it will be seen directly, who stood high in his favour. as the said secretary sailed down the elbe, coming from torgau, a faithful subject of the captive elector hid himself in a wood on the bank of the stream. he was a skilful arquebusier, and when the craft was well within range, he fired a shot. they brought the emperor a corpse. the mortal remains of the secretary were taken to spain in a handsome coffin; the murderer fled across hungary in the direction of turkey, but active pursuit resulted in his capture, and he was dispatched to augsburg. he was driven in an open cart from st. ulrich to the town hall, by way of the wine market. hence, the elector had the extreme annoyance of seeing him pass under his windows. the condemned man had between his knees a pole, to which his right hand was tied as high as possible. in the midst of the drive, the sword severed the wrist from the arm; hemorrhage was prevented by dressing the wound, and the hand was nailed to a post put up in the street for the purpose. in front of the town hall the poor wretch was taken from the cart and was put on the rack. the landsknechten quartered at augsburg had not received their pay for several months. it was to come out of the fines imposed upon the landgrave and the towns. the rumour ran that the fines had been paid, but that the duke of alva had lost the money gaming with the elector, so that the troops were still waiting. in the thick of all this, a number of soldiers made their way into the rooms of the ensigns, carrying off three standards, unfurling them, and marching in battle array to the wine market. near the spot where the arquebusier had had his hand severed from his wrist, a proud spaniard, impelled by the mad hope of securing the imperial favour by rendering his name for ever glorious, flung himself into the advancing ranks and tried to get hold of a standard; behind it, however, marched three men with big swords, and one of these split the intruder in two just as he would have split a turnip. "_qui amat periculum, peribit in eo_." thus it is written. roused to great excitement by the coming of the column, the spanish soldiers promptly occupied the streets adjoining the market. the elector was transferred to the imperial quarters, lest he should be carried off. the population were getting afraid of being pillaged in case the idea of paying themselves should present itself to the landsknechten. the tradesmen were more uneasy than the rest, for in expectation of the coming diet their shops were crammed with precious wares, rich silk stuffs, golden and silvern objects, diamonds and pearls. there was an indescribable tumult to the accompaniment of cries and people foregathering in knots, though most of them barricaded themselves in their houses and armed themselves with pikes, muskets, or anything they could lay hands on. in short, as sleidan expresses it, "the day bade fair to be spent in armed alarm." the emperor sent to ask the mercenaries what they wanted. "money or blood," replied the arquebusiers, their weapons reposing on the left arm, the lighted match in their right hands, and dangerously near the vent-hole. his imperial majesty promised them their arrears within twenty-four hours, but before dispersing they claimed impunity for what they had done, which demand the emperor granted. next day they received their pay and were disbanded at the same time. now for the end of the adventure. secret orders were given to accompany the ringleaders on their road, and at the first offensive remark on their part with regard to the emperor to call in armed assistance, and to bring them back to augsburg. as a consequence, at the end of two or three days, some of the firebrands, having their wallets well-lined and sitting round frequently re-filled flagons at the inn, began to hold forth without more reserve than if they were on the territory of prester john. the last thought in their minds was about informers being among them. "we'll give him soldiers for nothing--this charles of ghent![ ] may the quartan fever get hold of him. we'll teach him how to behave. may the lightning blast him," and so forth. not for long though. the words had scarcely left their lips than they were seized, taken to augsburg, and hanged in front of the town hall, each with a little flag fluttering from the tab of their small clothes. [illustration: an execution at the time of the reformation. _from a drawing by_ lucas cranach.] two spaniards, probably guilty of robbery, as was their custom, were strung up at the same gibbet. towards night the hangman came with his cart, cut the ropes and took the bodies of the seditious men outside the town. after which there appeared a gang of spaniards who, with more ceremony, detached their countrymen, and placed them in a bier covered with a kind of white linen. then they spread the funeral cloth over them, and the procession started. young scholars dressed in white cloaks marched at its head, intoning psalms; the rest, in handsome dresses and carrying lighted tapers, followed two by two. they proceeded in that manner to the church given up to the spaniards for their worship, where the two bodies were buried. it is difficult to withhold solemn funerals from thieves when you yourself are an incorrigible thief. the italian and spanish troops were distributed in the towns of the algau and swabia. memmingen and kempten compounded their liability to quarter them respectively for thirty thousand and twenty thousand florins. thereupon a certain imperial commissioner hit upon the idea of presenting himself in various towns as having been instructed to quarter a couple of hundred spaniards for the winter. the terror-stricken burghers implored him to spare them such a scourge, and considered themselves only too happy to present the commissioner with a little gratification of two, three, and four hundred crowns, paid on the nail. thanks to that ingenious system, the commissioner managed to pocket some important sums. but the rumour of the thing having reached the emperor's ears, the cheat was arrested, sentenced to death, and executed in front of the town hall at augsburg. the work of the hangman began by strangulation. the patient (?) was placed on a wooden seat against the rail of the scaffold, his forehead tightly bound in case of convulsions, his arms bound behind his back, and fastened to the balustrade. the hangman, after having flung a rather short rope round his neck, slipped a thick stick down his nape, and began to twist it round in the manner they press bales of wares. when the wretch was strangled, he was undressed except his shirt, laid out on a board, the hangman lifted the shirt, cut away the sexual parts, ripped open the body from bottom to top, removed the intestines, and threw them into a pail under the board, and finally cut the body into four quarters. george von wedel stayed at my hotel. he invited the duke of brunswick and his steward to dinner, and chose me as the third guest. the repast consisted of six courses; the first was soup with a capon in it. i know that our landlady paid a crown for the bird, and that she charged wedel a crown per head. i did not forget to mention to my host and my fellow guests that at rome i had seen the hanging of the spaniard, his servants, and the two jews. the duke was delighted at my recollecting this, and he himself reminded us that the banquet had been given in his honour. his account of the story was, however, much longer than mine. while awaiting the arrival of the pomeranian delegates, i borrowed two hundred crowns of the captive elector of saxony, for my functions at the diet necessitated a decent appearance, considering that i was called upon to confer with grand personages, such as the vice-chancellor seld, the bishop of arras and dr. johannes marquardt, imperial counsellor. besides, everything was horribly dear at augsburg; there was no possibility of getting along without money. our ambassadors arrived on st. matthew's day (september ). i immediately refunded the two hundred crowns. since we left wittenberg i had never missed an opportunity of speaking to the imperial counsellors and advisers, sometimes to one, then to another. more than once, for instance, i happened to be riding by the side of the bishop of arras, _intimus consiliarius imperatoris_. i solicited his intervention for a safe-conduct for our princes, in order that they might come and plead their cause in person, or be represented by some high dignitaries. the kindly tone of his answers afforded me much hope, although he abstained from all positive promises. one evening between nuremberg and augsburg chance made me alight at the hostelry where lazarus von schwendi was putting up.[ ] at that time he was a beardless young man. we supped together, and he declared quite spontaneously that, having been sent by the emperor to the brandenburg march as far as the pomeranian frontiers to get information about the attitude of the dukes during the late war, he had not been able to find the slightest charge against them. he further stated that he had written to that effect to the emperor, and he announced his intention of repeating it to him by word of mouth. in spite of this evidence, when i saw the bishop of arras, his father, messire de granvelle, the most trusty adviser of his imperial majesty, dr. seld and dr. marquardt at augsburg, they seemed to vie with each other at looking askance at me, and at formulating a refusal in hard, haughty terms and entirely unexpected by me; such as: "_bannus decernetur contra principes tuos_."[ ] our dukes sent their principal advisers. to do them justice, they spared neither time nor trouble, but it was all in vain, for the bishop of arras went as far as to growl at them: "to suppose the emperor capable of punishing innocent people as your princes pretend to be; that alone already constitutes the crime of treason against the sovereign, and deserves chastisement." his imperial majesty closed his ears to the truth; he was determined to act against the dukes of pomerania. at wittenberg dr. seld had said to me: "we are going to examine the challenge of ingoldstadt and will note for reference its instances of audacity, its offensive expressions, and its provocations. his imperial majesty means to show to the whole of the empire that he is neither deficient in german blood nor in power to chastize as he thinks fit no matter whom." this was an allusion to the following passage of the document defying him: "and we inform charles that we consider him a traitor to his duty to god, a perjurer towards us, and the german nation, and deserving the divine punishment, and also as too devoid of noble and german blood to carry out his threats." our ambassadors paid daily visits to the important ecclesiastical personages. they went in couples, save chancellor citzewitz, who considered himself, not unjustly, capable of dispensing with assistance. he laboured, however, under the disadvantage of "repeating himself," and of wearying his listeners. the chancellor of the elector of cologne, to whom citzewitz paid a visit one night, said the next day to two of our ambassadors: "what is your chancellor thinking of? he constantly repeats the same things. does he credit me with so short a memory as to forget in three or four days the _status causae vestrorum principum_, or does he imagine that our affairs leave me sufficient leisure to listen to his never ending litanies. he reminds me of a hen about to lay. at first she flutters to the top of the open barn door, clucking, 'an egg, an egg.' then she gets a little higher up to the hay-loft: 'an egg, an egg; i want to lay an egg.' from there she goes up to the rafters: 'look out, friends, look out. i am going to lay an egg.' finally, when she has cackled to her heart's content, she goes back to her nest and produces the tiniest imaginable egg. i prefer the goose who squats silently on the dung-heap and lays an egg as big as a child's head." the archbishop of cologne would not forgive our princes for having secularized the monastery of neu-camp, a branch of the parent institution of alt-camp, in the diocese of cologne. besides, the clergy of pomerania had become suspect to him ever since its choice for the see of cammin had fallen upon the pious, able and learned chancellor bartholomew schwabe. hence, the terms in which the emperor forbade our princes to recognize the new dignitary as such were the reverse of courteous, and he moreover summoned the chapters to augsburg to take the oath of fidelity and do homage, pending his own selection of a chief for them. the princes, the chapters, the landed gentry, and the towns, with the exception of colberg, appealed; the pomeranian mission was entrusted with the negotiations; the states also delegated martin weyer, canon of cammin, who subsequently became a bishop. nor was the elector of brandenburg in the emperor's good books. where then could we find somebody successfully to intercede for us? all my supplications were in vain, for at courts and in large towns _causae perduntur quae paupertate reguntur_. finally, dr. marquardt hinted discreetly that a well trained small horse would be very useful to him to proceed to the council, according to imperial etiquette. i immediately wrote to pomerania, whence they sent me a pretty animal, with instructions to buy an equipment to match. the present, supplemented by three "portuguese,"[ ] seemed to please the doctor mightily, and he accepted everything without much persuasion. the melting of double ducats and rhenish florins gave us some excellent gold of crown standard, which served to make two cups, each weighing seven marks. citzewitz took them several times to messire de granvelle without finding the opportunity of offering them to him. these were indeed untimely scruples. that present, or even one of double its value, would no more have been refused then than it was later on at brussels. in fact, in return for his friendly offices with the emperor, granvelle willingly submitted to be presented with gold, silver, and precious objects, so that at his departure there were several vans and numerous mules laden with them. when he was asked what were the contents of that long convoy, he answered: "_peccata germaniae_!" after many fruitless efforts our ambassadors found themselves reduced to inactivity, and compelled as a pastime to read two latin pamphlets they received. the one dealt with the personality and acts of "_carolus quintus_"; the title of the other was, "_de horum temporum statu_," with pasquin and marforio as interlocutors in roman fashion. there were ten flag-companies of landsknechten quartered at augsburg, besides the spaniards and germans accompanying the emperor, while the outskirts held spanish and italian fighting men. six hundred horsemen from the low countries and more than twelve flag-companies of spaniards, who had been quartered during the winter at biberach, were posted on the shores of lake constance; seven hundred neapolitan horsemen, who had wintered at wissemburg, lay in the nordgau. the days, therefore, were truly spent in "armed alarm," but there was also extraordinary splendour, pomp, and magnificence. augsburg, in fact, had the honour of having within its walls his imperial majesty, his royal majesty, all the electors in person, with imposing suites; the elector of brandenburg with his wife; the cardinal of trent, duke heindrich of brunswick and his two sons, charles victor and philip; margrave albert; duke wolfgang, count palatine; duke augustus; duke albert of bavaria; the duke of cleves; herr wolfgang, grand master of the teutonic order; the bishop of eichstedt; his grace of naumberg, julius pflug; abbé weingarten; madame marie, the sister of the emperor, who was accompanied by her niece, the dowager of lorraine; the wife of the margrave; the duchess of bavaria, and the envoys of the foreign potentates. the king of denmark was represented by a learned and prudent man, who had given proof of his wisdom in many a mission, namely, petrus suavenius, the same who had accompanied luther to worms and had returned with him. the king of poland was represented by stanislas lasky, a magnificent, experienced, learned, eloquent and elegant, amiable, great magnate, and most charming _in familiari colloquio_. [illustration: ferdinand the first. _from an old print._] it is almost impossible to enumerate the crowd of vicars, counts and other personages of note, but i must not forget the jew michael, who aped the great lord, and showed himself off on horseback in gorgeous clothes, golden chains round his neck, and escorted by ten or a dozen servants, all jews, but who might have fairly passed muster as horse troopers. michael himself had an excellent appearance; he was said to be the son of one of the counts of rheinfeld. the old hereditary marshal von pappenheim, who had grown very short-sighted, came up with him one day, and, not content with taking off his hat, made him a low bow, as to a superior. when he discovered his mistake, he vented his anger very loudly: "may the lightning blast you, you big scoundrel of a jew," he bellowed. the presence of so many princesses, countesses and other noble dames, handsome, and attired in a way that baffles my powers of description, afforded daily opportunities for banquets, welch and german dances. king ferdinand was rarely without guests. he gave magnificent receptions, splendid ballets, and beautiful concerts by a numerous and well trained band of vocal and instrumental performers. behind the king's chair there stood a chattering jester; his master had frequent "wit combats" with him. the king kept up the conversation at table, and his tongue was never still for a moment. one evening i saw at his reception, a spanish gentleman, with a cloak reaching to his heels, dancing an "algarda" or "passionesa" (i do not know the meaning of either word) with a young damsel. they both jumped very high, advancing and retreating, without ceasing to face each other. it was most charming. after that another couple performed a welch dance. the emperor, on the contrary, far from giving the smallest banquet, kept nobody near him; neither his sister, nor his brother, nor his nieces, nor the duchess of bavaria, nor the electors, nor any of the princes. after church, when he reached his apartments, he dismissed his courtiers, giving his hand to everybody. he had his meals by himself, without speaking a word to his attendants. one day, returning from church, he noticed the absence of carlowitz. "_ubi est noster carlovitius?_" he asked of duke maurice. "most gracious emperor," replied the latter, "he feels somewhat feeble." immediately the emperor turned to his physician. "vesalius, gy zult naar carlowitz gaan, die zal iets wat ziek zyn, ziet dat gy hem helpt." (anglicé, "you had better go and see carlowitz. he is not well; you may be able to do something for him.") i have often been present (at spires, at worms, at augsburg, and at brussels) at the emperor's dinner. he never invited his brother, the king. young princes and counts served the repast. there were invariably four courses, consisting altogether of six dishes. after having placed the dishes on the table, these pages took the covers off. the emperor shook his head when he did not care for the particular dish; he bowed his head when it suited, and then drew it towards him. enormous pasties, large pieces of game, and the most succulent dishes were carried away, while his majesty ate a piece of roast, a slice of a calf's head, or something analogous. he had no one to carve for him; in fact, he made but a sparing use of the knife. he began by cutting his bread in pieces large enough for one mouthful, then attacked his dish. he stuck his knife anywhere, and often used his fingers while he held the plate under his chin with the other hand. he ate so naturally, and at the same time so cleanly, that it was a pleasure to watch him. when he felt thirsty, he only drank three draughts; he made a sign to the _doctores medicinae_ standing by the table; thereupon they went to the sideboard for two silver flagons, and filled a crystal goblet which held about a measure and a half. the emperor drained it to the last drop, practically at one draught, though he took breath two or three times. he did, however, not utter a syllable, albeit that the jesters behind him were amusing. now and again there was a faint smile at some more than ordinarily clever passage between them. he paid not the slightest attention to the crowd that came to watch the monarch eat. the numerous singers and musicians he kept performed in church, and never in his apartment. the dinner lasted less than an hour, at the termination of which, tables, seats, and everything else were removed, there remaining nothing but the four walls hung with magnificent tapestry. after grace they handed the emperor the quills of feathers wherewith to clean his teeth. he washed his hands and took his seat in one of the window recesses. there, everybody could go up and speak to him, or hand a petition, and argue a question. the emperor decided there and then. the future emperor maximilian was more assiduously by the side of the emperor than by that of his father. duke maurice soon made acquaintance with the bavarian ladies, and at his own quarters melancholy found no place, for he lodged with a doctor of medicine who was the father of a girl named jacqueline, a handsome creature if ever there was one. she and the duke bathed together and played cards every day with margrave albrecht.[ ] one day, the latter, thinking he was going to have the best of the game, ventured several crowns. "very well," answered the damsel; "equal stakes. mine against yours." "put down your money," retorted the margrave, "and the better player wins." all this in plain and good german, while jacqueline gave him her most charming smile. such was their daily mode of life. the town gossiped about it, but the devil himself was bursting with pleasure. clerics or laymen, every one among those notable personages did as he pleased. i myself have seen young margrave albrecht, as well as other young princes, drinking and playing "truc" with certain bishops of their own age, but of inferior birth.[ ] at such moments they made very light of titles. the margrave cried abruptly; "your turn, priest. i'll wager your stroke isn't worth a jot." the bishop was often still more coarse, inviting his opponent to accompany him outside to perform a natural want. the young princes squatted down by the side of the noblest dames on the floor itself, for there were neither forms nor chairs; merely a magnificent carpet in the middle of the room, exceedingly comfortable to stretch one's self at full length upon. one may easily imagine the kissing and cuddling that was going on.[ ] both princes and princesses spent their incomes in banquets of unparalleled splendour. they arrived with their money caskets full to overflowing, but in a little while they were compelled to take many a humiliating step in order to obtain loans; the rates were ruinous, but anything, rather than leave augsburg defeated and humbled in their love of display. several sovereigns, among others the duke of bavaria, had received from their subjects thousands of dollars as "play money." they lost every penny of it. our ambassadors lived very retired. they neither invited nor were invited; nevertheless, when a visitor came, they were bound to offer a collation, and to amuse their guests. one day they entertained jacob sturm of strasburg.[ ] during dinner the conversation turned on cammin. sturm gave us the history of that bishopric, of its foundation, of its expansion. then he told us of the ancient prerogatives of the dukes of pomerania; of the negotiations set on foot seven years before at the diet of ratisbon. in short, it was as lucid, as complete, and as accurate a summary of the subject as if he had just finished studying it. our counsellors greatly admired his wonderful memory. verily, he was a superior, experienced, eloquent, and prudent man, who had had his share in many memorable days from an imperial as well as from a provincial view; for, in spite of his heresy, the emperor had at various times entrusted him with important missions. without him, sleidan could have never written his history. he avows it frankly, and renders homage to sturm in many passages of his _commentaries_. nobody throughout the empire realized to the same degree as he the motto: "_usus me genuit, mater me peperit memoria_." a person of note having asked him if the towns of the league of schmalkalden were all at peace with the emperor, he answered: "_constantia tantum desideratur_."[ ] it would be impossible better to express both the isolation of constance and the mistake to which the protestants owed their reverses. should my children have a desire to know what sturm was like facially, they will only have to look at my portrait, which bears such a remarkable resemblance to him as to have baffled apelles to improve upon it.[ ] our ambassadors also received the visits of musculus and lepusculus, but each came by himself. the moment for serious debate had struck, for the interim was being gradually drawn up. the time for jesting had gone by; the only thing to do was to get at the root of matters.[ ] i sometimes brought my countryman, friend, and co-temporary valerius krakow home with me. he was secretary to carlowitz, and, excluded as they were from all negotiations, our counsellors were glad to learn from his lips what was being plotted. during the campaign he had not stirred from the side of carlowitz, who, in reward for his services, had got him into the chancellerie of prince maurice. another countryman of mine who came to see us was the traban simon plate, one of my old acquaintances, for we had pursued our studies together more or less usefully at greifswald, under george normann. the counsellors did not care for him, for he was of no earthly use to them. the trabans had some respectable, honest, well set-up and plucky fellows in their ranks, and enjoyed a certain amount of consideration. the emperor was particular about their dress; they wore black velvet doublets, cloaks with large bands of velvet, and the spanish head-dress of the same material. plate was never tired of praising his fellow-soldier sleeping next to him, and the ambassadors gave him leave to bring his friend. he wore a most beautiful golden chain. plate had not exaggerated. finally he even took umbrage at the favour shown to the new comer, so that one day he exclaimed: "no doubt he is very upright and honest. he has shown his courage, consequently he pleases the emperor. it is a pity, though, that he is not a gentleman by birth." the remark, i am bound to say, displeased our ambassadors greatly, and above all chancellor citzewitz; but let my children look to it. i have heard many pomeranian nobles hold the same language. according to them, intelligence, sound judgment and ability were the exclusive appanage of birth. plate showed himself in a better light on another occasion. our counsellors had received several visits, and some flagons had been joyously emptied. when our guests were gone, moritz damis, captain of ukermünde, a rollicking, lively creature, suddenly took a fancy to go to the court ball which was taking place that evening, not in the apartments of the emperor, but in those of his sister and niece, who likewise occupied the fugger mansion in the wine market. his colleagues, who had not forgotten the emperor's threat to the landgrave, "i'll teach you to laugh," were afraid of a scandal, and pointed out that our princes were in disgrace; but damitz got angry. "our princes will give me money, but they cannot give me health," he exclaimed. "what am i doing here? why should i deny myself the sight of such rejoicings? how am i to keep alive? i may as well make up my mind never to cast eyes on pomerania again." saying which, he rushed down the stairs; a counsellor tried to hold him back by his golden chain, the links of which, however, broke, and our captain ran to the ball. simon plate had remained perfectly cool, and they asked him to follow the madcap. there was no difficulty for plate to get inside the ball-room, and the first person of note of whom he caught sight was the puissant and renowned warrior-chief, johannes walther von hirnheim,[ ] moodily walking to and fro at the lower end of the room. damitz had noticed standing close by the dancers a handsome woman gorgeously dressed and glittering with jewels, and in less time than it takes to tell he had addressed her: "charming creature," he said, "are you not going to dance?" "oh no, sir," was the answer; "dancing is only fit for young people, and i am an old woman." "what, are you married?" asked the captain. "i could have sworn that you were only a girl, and if i were told to choose with the most beautiful woman here, my choice would fall upon you." "ah, sir, you are merely jesting." "and what is your husband's name?" the captain went on unabashed. "johannes walther von hirnheim." "johannes walther? oh, i know him well." the husband, somewhat curious with regard to the captain's conversation, had drawn near, though still continuing to walk up and down in silence. damitz, though, taking no notice of either him or simon plate, continued his interrogatory. "have you any children?" "no; god has ordained it otherwise." "ah, if i had such a wife, i know what i am. god would soon grant us children." this incursion of the captain into the physical domain induced simon plate to interfere, to turn the conversation, and to take damitz back to his domicile. in december our ambassadors decided to send one of their body to pomerania, and heindrich normann was selected for the journey. it was bitterly cold, and normann endeavoured to provide against it. he put on a linen nightcap, over that a fur one, and a second of cloth, with a big muffler fastened behind and in front (just as the peasantry still wear it), and finally a thick hat, embroidered in silk. on his hands white thread gloves, chamois leather ones lined with fur; over these, and over the latter again thicker gloves of wolf's skin. his body was encased in a linen shirt, a knitted tightly-fitting garment in the italian fashion; over that a vest of red english cloth, a doublet wadded with cotton, another lined jacket, a long coat of wool trimmed with wolf's skin, covering the whole; finally, on his feet, linen socks, louvain gaiters reaching above the knee, cloth hose, stockings lined with sheep's skin, and high boots. when everybody had done giving special commissions, the servants hoisted him into the saddle, for he could have never got into it without their help. he went as far as donauwerth; when he got there, his equipment decidedly seemed to him too uncomfortable. as, however, he had no desire to be frozen to death, he turned his horse's head and made for the good city of augsburg. inasmuch as the narrative of sleidan is very incomplete, i am going to write the story of sebastian vogelsberg. having been an eye-witness, i made it my business to note down his last speeches. vogelsberg was tall and of imposing appearance, his width being in proportion to his height; in short, a handsome, well-proportioned man with a head as round as a ball, a beard reaching to his waist, and an open face. no painter could have found a better model for a manly man. he had a certain amount of education. according to some people, he had been a schoolmaster in italy. count wilhelm von fürstenberg, who entered the "paid" service of the belligerent monarchs as a colonel, took him as a semi-secretary, semi-accountant. vogelsberg, having been promoted to an ensignship, rendered distinguished service in the field; ambitious, glib of tongue, not to say eloquent and rarely at a loss what to do, he quickly attained the grade of captain, and high and mighty potentates soon preferred him to fürstenberg. the latter felt most annoyed at this, belonging as he did to a class of men to whom merit is inseparable from birth. he constantly inveighed against vogelsberg, who, in his turn, did not spare his rival. pamphlets were printed on both sides. the count appears to have begun; he appealed to his peers, their honour seemed to him at stake. the protestant states sided with vogelsberg, their co-religionist, while the popish camp swore mortal hatred to him. weary of fruitless polemics, and knowing full well that it would have been folly to take the law into his own hands, vogelsberg decided upon bringing an action before the imperial chamber for damages for defamation of character. i was at the time clerk to his procurator, dr. engelhardt; consequently, i knew every particular of the affair. after protracted debates, the court finding for vogelsberg, condemned count wilhelm to a fine of four hundred florins, a sentence which caused wilhelm's brother, frederick von fürstenberg, and everybody who bore the title of count to consider themselves the injured parties. three _causae proægoumenae_, to use the language of the dialecticians, may be plainly discerned in this drama; namely, religion, the soldierly qualities of vogelsberg, and the hostility of the nobles and papists. we may add two _causae procatarcticae_: the first, mentioned by sleidan, to the effect that a twelvemonth previously vogelsberg had taken a regiment of landsknechten to the king of france; the second, which i saw with my own eyes at wissenburg on the rhine, that vogelsberg had built himself in that imperial town a beautiful mansion of hewn stone with the arms of france, three big _fleurs de lis_ artistically sculptured over the door. the papists, feeling confident that in the probable event of a new war of religion, the valiant captain would give them a great deal of trouble, and thirsting as they did for his blood, like a deer in summer pants for cooling streams, they took time by the forelock. their skill in exploiting with his imperial majesty the _causae irritatrices_ stood them in good stead. they were instrumental in getting two doctors of their following appointed as judges. the one was german, and the other welch, but both promptly pronounced a sentence of death which was immediately carried out. on february , , shortly after eight in the morning, an ensign-corps of soldiers from the outskirts of "our lady," and two other ensign-corps from the outskirts of "st. jacob," took up their position in the square of the town hall. sleidan says the scaffold was erected for the purpose of executing vogelsberg. this is an error on sleidan's part. the scaffold had been there for six months, and had served many times. an officer from the welch, whom they call _magister de campo_ was detached from the troops with about thirty men to fetch the condemned man from the peilach tower. the latter was brought back to the sound of drums and fifes. vogelsberg wore a black velvet dress and a welch hat embroidered with silk. at his entrance into the circle surrounding the scaffold he caught sight of count reinhard von solms, whose nose was half-eaten away by disease, and ritter conrad von boineburg. without taking any notice of the count, a relentless papist, who detested him on account of fürstenberg, he asked of the ritter: "herr conrad, is there any hope?" "dear bastian," replied boineburg, "may god help you." "certainly, he will help me," was vogelsberg's rejoinder. and with his firmest step, his head erect, and his usual assurance, he climbed the steps to the scaffold. he looked for a long while at the crowd. all the windows were occupied by members of the nobility. at those of the town hall there were serried rows of electors, princes of the church and of the empire, barons, counts, and knights. in a manly voice and as steady a tone as if he were at the head of his troops, vogelsberg began to speak: "your serenissime highnesses, highnesses, excellencies, noble, puissant, valiant seigneurs and friends. as i am this day ..." at that moment the _magister de campo_ (quarter-master-general) told the executioner to proceed with his duty, but the latter, addressing the condemned man, said: "gracious sir, i shall not hurry you. speak as long as you please." thereupon vogelsberg went on: "i am to lose my life by order of the emperor, our very merciful and gracious master, and i now will tell you the cause of my death-warrant. it is for having raised ten ensign-companies last summer for the coronation of the praiseworthy king of france. no felonious act can be imputed to me during the ten years i served the emperor. as i am innocent, i beseech of you to keep me in kind memory, and to pity my undeserved misfortunes. watch over my kindred, so that they may not come to grief on account of all this, and may benefit by the fruit of my services, for the whole of my life was that of an honest man. i am being sacrificed to the implacable resentment of that infamous lazarus schwendi." the latter was at the window facing the scaffold, and suddenly disappeared, but vogelsberg did not interrupt his speech. "he came to me to wissemburg to tell me that he was in disgrace in consequence of the murder of a spanish gentleman in the suite of his imperial majesty, and that the spaniards were also looking for me. he proposed to me to fly to france together, and borrowed two hundred crowns of me. i even gave him a horse as a present for his advice. well, the traitor took me straight to the spaniards. while i was in prison i asked him, for my personal need, for some of the crowns i had lent him, but he turned a deaf ear to all my requests. i beg of you to be on your guard against that skunk of a thief who bears the name of lazarus schwendi. no one ought to have any dealings with him. he has even dared to denounce to his imperial majesty his serenissimo highness the elector palatine as having entered into a league with the king of france. it is an infamous slander. if i had another life to stake, i should stake it on that. i have been refused the last assistance of a minister, of a confessor--a refusal which has no precedent. i nevertheless die innocent and redeemed by the blood of jesus christ." after this he walked round the circle, though above it, asking everybody to forgive him as he forgave everybody. then he seated himself. the executioner divided his long beard into two and knotted the two ends together on the skull. having craved his pardon, and invited him to say a pater and the credo, he performed his office. the head rolled like a ball from the scaffold to the ground; the executioner caught it by the beard and placed it between the legs of the body, spreading a cloak over the whole, except the feet which showed from under it. after that the officer and his thirty arquebusiers went to fetch jacob mantel and wolf thomas, of heilbron, who had been brought to augsburg at the same time as vogelsberg. thomas was left at the foot of the scaffold. mantel walked round the platform and said a few words, which many people could not hear. as his stiff leg made it difficult for him to kneel down, the executioner slipped a footstool under the paralyzed limb. he failed to sever the head at the first stroke, and had to finish the operation below; then he once more covered up the body. there only remained wolf thomas. to judge by his dress and bearing he was not an ordinary man. he stared fixedly at the feet of vogelsberg, showing from under the cloak; then he took his eyes off, and told those around that he had been a loyal and faithful soldier for twenty-seven years, and that he died absolutely innocent, his sole crime consisted in having served the king of france during three months, as many an honest noble and squire had done before him without incurring the least punishment. he asked those around to forgive him as he forgave them, and to pray for him as he would intercede in their favour, he being firmly assured of a place near the almighty. he asked those who promised to say a pater and the _credo_ for him to hold up their hands. after that he was beheaded. at the termination of the triple execution the executioner cried in a loud voice from the scaffold: "in the name of his imperial majesty it is expressly forbidden to any one to serve the king of france on the penalty of sharing the fate of these three men." the death of vogelsberg caused universal regret. the unanimous opinion was that a soldier of such mettle was worth his weight in gold to a warlike monarch. sleidan alleges erroneously that the two judges exculpated lazarus von schwendi. it was the emperor who caused to be printed and distributed everywhere a small proclamation of half a sheet, declaring schwendi free from all blame, inasmuch as he strictly carried out the imperial orders, and that the speech of vogelsberg was obviously dictated by the desire to escape the most fully deserved punishment. the king of france, it was said, was so displeased at the cry of the executioner from the scaffold that by his orders the marquis de saluces, on his return from germany, was arrested and beheaded. this was the nobleman who at wittenberg had disadvised the execution of the elector of saxony. in april, augsburg witnessed the arrival of muleg-hassan, king of tunis. thirteen years previously he had been driven forth by barbarossa; subsequently he was re-established on his throne by the emperor, but his eldest son had ousted him and put his eyes out. a fugitive and wretched, he came to place himself under the protection of the emperor, and was soon joined in his exile by one of his sons. i often met these two on horseback, in company of lasky, the polish ambassador, who spoke their language. as the pope opposed, against all expectation, the holding at trent of a christian, free and impartial council, and experience having taught people besides that the learned men of both parties would never come to an agreement, the states of the empire proposed to his imperial majesty to confide to a restricted number of learned and god-fearing men the task of drawing up a document for the furtherance of the reign of god and the preservation of the public peace. in pursuance of this the emperor delegated personally the bishop of mayence, dr. george sigismund seld, and dr. heindrich hase. the king of the romans selected messire gandenz von madrutz. the elector of mayence chose his bishop suffragan; the elector of treves, johannes von leyen, canon of treves and of wurzburg; the elector of cologne, his provincial; the elector palatine, ritter wolf von affenstein; the elector of saxony, dr. fachs; the elector of brandenburg, eustacius von schlieben. the princes selected the bishop of augsburg, dr. heinrichmann; the duke of bavaria, dr. eck. the prelates selected the abbé von weingarten; the counts, count hugo de montfort; the towns: strasburg, jacob sturm; ulm, george besserer. these personages met on friday, february , , but they failed to agree, which might have easily been foreseen. the ecclesiastical members of the diet took advantage of the opportunity to have the book of the interim composed respectively by the bishop of naumburg, johannes pflug; by the bishop suffragan of mayence, appointed a little later on to the see of meiseburg, and by the court preacher to the elector of brandenburg, johannes agricola, otherwise eisleben, who coveted the bishopric of cammin. the imperial assent to this had to be obtained; they set to work in the following manner. the elector of brandenburg and his wife lived on a sumptuous footing at augsburg. the elector was fond of display; the electress, the daughter of a king of poland, was even more lavish than her spouse. the dearth of everything and the frequency and the profusion of the entertainments had already for a long time reduced the finances of his serene highness to a critical state. seven years previously, at the gathering of ratisbon, dr. conrad holde had already lent the prince close upon six thousand crowns. their repayment had been constantly, but unsuccessfully demanded. finally, at augsburg, in default of ready money, he received the written promise of repayment in four instalments at the dates of the frankfurt fairs. it was duly signed and sealed. nothing was wanting to its perfect legality; the most suspicious would have been satisfied. nevertheless, the payments were not made when due, and the creditor instituted proceedings before the imperial chamber. the elector did not know which way to turn; there was not a purse open to him. he was absolutely at a loss how to get his wife and his numerous suite decently away from augsburg when the bishop of salzburg made an end of his embarrassments by advancing him sixteen thousand hungarian florins on the duly executed promise of their being repaid in a short time. but the principal condition of the loan was that the elector of brandenburg should present to his imperial majesty the work of the three above-named personages, and bind himself and his subjects to submit to its provisions. the elector of saxony instructed christopher carlowitz to send a copy of the "interim" to philip melanchthon.[ ] the latter's reply was singularly devoid of courage. it was supposed to be inspired by the theologians of wittenberg and leipzig, who in that way sounded the first notes of "adiaphorism." carlowitz promptly communicated this epistle everywhere. it aroused general surprise, as well as the most opposed feelings; grief and consternation among the adherents to the augsburg confession, matchless jubilation among the catholics. and the lord alone knows how they bellowed it about in the four corners of germany, how they availed themselves of it to proclaim their victory. [illustration: melanchthon. _from a drawing by_ lucas cranach.] the ecclesiastical electors sent melanchthon's letter, together with the book, to the pope, and what with backslidings and plotting the pear was very soon ripe. the publication of the "interim" took place on may , at four o'clock in the afternoon, in presence of the states assembled. the emperor had it printed in latin and in german. in the first proofs handed to the emperor the passage from st. paul, "_justificati fide pacem habemus_," was altogether changed by the suppression of the word _fide_; the confessionists protested energetically, and confounded the would-be authors of the fraud. the stern tone of the act of promulgation stopped neither speeches nor scathing writings. sterling refutations were published even outside germany; the two best known are the latin treatise of calvin, which spread all over the empire--in italy, in france, in poland, etc.; and a piece of writing in german, which was more to the taste of everybody, and one of whose authors was Æpinus, superintendent of hamburg. seigneur de granvelle and his son, the bishop of arras, strongly persuaded the elector of saxony to adhere to the "interim," in order to regain his freedom, but the prince remained faithful to the confession of augsburg. thereupon they took away his books; there was no meat on his table on fast days, and his chaplain, whom he had kept with him with the consent of the emperor, had to fly in disguise. the landgrave, on the other hand, who did not care to profess greater wisdom than the fathers of the church, consented to recommend the book to his subjects, and begged to be pardoned for the sake of christ and all his saints. at the closure of the diet, i took, like his imperial majesty, the road to the low countries. the stay of the emperor at ulm brought about the dismissal of the council, which was replaced by more devoted creatures. the six ministers were bidden to accept the "interim." four of them were not to be shaken, and they were led away captive in the suite of the emperor; the other two, in spite of their apostasy, had to leave wives and children, and scant consideration was shown to them. at spires, the prior of the barefooted carmelites was, like all the brothers of his monastery, a good evangelical, though all had preserved the dress of their order. during four years i had seen him going to and fro in the town, dressed in his monk's frock; each sunday he went into the pulpit and the church was crowded to the very porch. never did he breathe a word about the pope or about luther, but he was a master of pure doctrine, and at the approach of the emperor he fled in a layman's dress. worms and the whole of the country lost their preachers. landau possessed a select group of learned and distinguished ministers, because the town offered many advantages; a delightful situation, excellent fare, and a splendid vineyard at the very gates of the town; but the ministers had to abandon the place to the popish priests, scamps without experience, without instruction, without piety, and without decency. i often had occasion afterwards to go to landau, where the advocate of my father, dr. engelhardt, resided. one sunday, at the termination of the mass, i heard a young and impudent good-for-nothing hold forth from the pulpit in the following strain: "the lutherans are opposed to the worship of mary and the saints. now, my friends, be good enough to listen to this. the soul of a man who had just died got to the door of heaven, and peter shut it in his face. luckily, the mother of god was taking a stroll outside with her sweet son. the deceased addresses her, and reminds her of the paters and the aves he has recited to her glory, the candles he has burned before her images. thereupon mary says to jesus, 'it's the honest truth, my son.' the lord, however, objected, and addressed the supplicant: 'hast thou never read that i am the way and the door to everlasting life?' he asks. 'if thou art the door, i am the window,' replies mary, taking the 'soul' by the hair and flinging it into heaven through the open casement. and now i ask you, is it not the same whether you enter paradise by the door or by the window? and those abominable lutherans dare to maintain that one must not invoke the virgin mary." that was the kind of scandalous irreligion exhibited in the places where formerly the healthy evangelical doctrine was preached. the landgrave's submission to the "interim" only brought him into contempt. his wife, who had hastened to spires to beseech the emperor, was allowed to remain day and night with the prisoner during his week's stay there. at the departure for worms i saw the landgrave pass at eight in the morning, with his escort of spaniards with long arquebuses. they hemmed him in in front, behind, and at the sides, while he himself was bestriding a broken-down nag with empty and open holsters, and the hilt of his sword securely tied to its sheath. a serried crowd of strangers and inhabitants, women and servants, old and young, were pressing around his escort, as if there had been an order given to that effect. they cried: "here goes the wretched rebel, the felon, the scoundrel that he is." they said worse things which, from certain scruples, i abstain from repeating. it looked like the procession of a vulgar malefactor who was being taken to the scaffold. pure chance made me an eye-witness of a diverting scene at augsburg. i have already said that duke maurice had ingratiated himself very much with the bavarian court ladies. one sunday, in december, when the weather was fine, he was ready to go out in a sleigh. i happened to be at the door with several others, who also heard the following dialogue. carlowitz came down the stairs of the chancellerie in hot haste, exclaiming: "whither is your highness going?" "to munich," was the answer. "but your highness has an audience to-morrow with the emperor." "i am going to munich," repeated the duke. thereupon carlowitz: "if, thanks to me, the electoral dignity is practically yours, it is nevertheless true that your frivolity causes you to be despised of their majesties and of all honourable people." maurice merely laid the whip on his horses, which started off at a gallop, carlowitz shouting at the top of his voice: "very well, then; go to the devil, and may heaven blast you and your sledge." when the prince returned, carlowitz announced his intention of going to leipzig. "if i miss the new year's fair," he said, "i shall lose several thousand crowns." the elector had only one means to make him stay, namely, to count out the sum to him. as the restoration of the imperial chamber necessitated my return to spires to watch my father's lawsuit, i wrote to pomerania to be dispensed from following the emperor. this is the answer from our princes. "greetings to our loyal and well-beloved. our counsellors have informed us of thy request, which we should willingly grant thee if it were not prejudicial to our interests and those of the country, and which thou hast up to the present administered. we therefore invite thee to exercise some patience, and to serve us with zeal and fidelity as heretofore; inclined as we are to recall thee after the diet to give thee unquestionable proofs of our great satisfaction, as well as the means satisfactorily to bring to an end the paternal affairs. we rely on thy obedience, and bind ourselves to confirm all our promises as above. given under our hand at stettin-the-old, sunday after st. james, in the year ." i had lived uninterruptedly for a twelvemonth at augsburg, save for one ride to munich, a city well worth seeing. the diet being about to dissolve, i bought a horse, an acquisition which that big dreamer of a normann deferred from day to day. of course, the inevitable happened. the moment the emperor had announced his forthcoming departure everybody wanted horses, and he who had ordered himself a handsome dress, sold it at half-price in order to get a roadster. normann, who, in spite of my warnings, had waited till the eleventh hour, unable to find a suitable mount, took mine, which had been well fed and looked after in anticipation of the long journey. i by no means relished this unceremonious proceeding, but i could not help myself, and was compelled to put up with a seat on a big fourgon, in which i placed the golden cups intended for granvelle. at ulm, martin weyer decided that normann should give me back my horse when we reached spires, and that he should go the rest of the way by the rhine. when we got to spires, normann was not to be found there, and we finally learnt that he had gone to the baths of zell with the chimerical hope of getting rid of his pimples which disfigured him. i confided the two pieces of goldsmith's work to dr. louis zigler, the procurator to our princes, then went by coach to oppenheim, and by water to mayence. on september our ship reached cologne, and next morning i went in search of a good horse to pursue my route in company of friends, when, whom should i meet in the street but normann. as a consequence, i was obliged to change my inn, and to part with my company. normann was in treaty for a horse, which he finally bought. in that way we were both provided for, but without a servant, each man taking care of his own horse; however, the ostlers were excellent, and there was no need to watch; one had only to command. we started for the low countries on september , the emperor going down the rhine in a boat. next day, at the branching off of the high road, we hesitated. on inquiring at the nearest inn we were told that one road led to maestricht, and the other to aix-la-chapelle. the first-named was the shorter by six miles; on the other hand, aix-la-chapelle is the famous city founded by charlemagne. it contains the royal throne, it is the city where the emperor is crowned after his election at frankfurt. after we had discussed the "for" and "against" at some length, we hit upon the idea of giving our horses their heads, and leaving the bridles on their necks. by some subtle and mysterious intuition the animals chose, according to our secret desire, the road to aix-la-chapelle. the city itself is large and in ancient style. the country around is barren, the soil consisting of coal, stone and slate. previous to the foundation of the city it was simply a wilderness. there are some excellent mineral springs; the bath, constructed in beautiful hewn stone, is square, and about fourteen feet long; three steps enable one to sit down with the water up to the throat, or to be immersed at a small depth. except the baths of the landgravate of baden, i know of no other arrangement equally comfortable. at the town hall, castle, and arsenal of charlemagne there are hundreds of thousands of sharp iron arrows stowed away in closed chests. on entering the church one immediately notices an ivory and gold armchair, fastened with exceeding great art. at the lower end of the nave, to the west, a huge crown of at least twelve feet diameter is suspended. i do not know the nature of the material, but it is gilt and painted in colours. in the way of relics there are the hose of joseph. they are only shown at stated times, but whoever has the privilege of seeing them has a great many of his sins remitted. on september we reached brussels in brabant, and there i received the order to go back to my country, the functions of solicitor to the imperial chamber having been conferred upon me. hence, on st. denis' day, i began this journey of more than a hundred miles, alone and across unknown countries, with abominable roads, above all in westphalia. i was often obliged to stay the night at places which were more than suspect, and when only half-way my horse came to grief in consequence of normann's former rough usage. i had to swop it, paying a sum of money besides, and was unfortunate enough to have come across a veritable crock which i was obliged to keep, there being no help for it. finally, through good and evil i reached wolgast on all saints' day. chapter iii how i held for two years the office of _solicitator_ at the imperial chamber at spires--visit to herr sebastian münster--journey to flanders--character of king philip--i leave the princes' service as soon as my nomination was drawn up, i was dispatched with it to chancellor citzewitz, at his estate of muttrin, near dantzig. the principal personages of the land had come to consult him, and he kept me for more than ten days with him in excellent company, making me share their favourite recreation, and the thing that bored me most, namely, the chase, to which the country admirably lends itself. i returned with the chancellor to stettin, where my warrant of appointment was duly signed and sealed. at wolgast duke philip interrogated me at length in his own study, and with no one else present, on the condition of affairs at augsburg and brussels. he was much surprised at my boldness in having given him such a plain and straightforward account of the doings of the court. "if only one of your letters had been intercepted, they would have strung you up at the nearest tree," he said. this was no exaggeration on his part; and supposing such a catastrophe had happened, he would, in spite of everything, have remained a prince of the empire, while there would have been an end of me. of course, my behaviour gave him the measure of my devotion to him. he promised me a good horse; besides this, the ducal kitchen provided all that was necessary for a farewell banquet, and, in fact, at supper some pages brought us two hares from the prince's larder. i received a hundred crowns for my loyal services, and an appointment of one hundred and forty per annum; the cost of copying and dispatch of messengers being charged to their highnesses. i went to say good-bye to my parents at stralsund. my mother had ordered for my sister chains and clasps which the goldsmith had as yet not delivered. i paid for them, and, moreover, left thirty crowns at home. "use them, if there be any need. i'll manage to make both ends meet with what remains." duke philip had given me a strong and lively hunter. behind the saddle i had a small saddle-bag, like the court messengers. my brother christian accompanied me as far as leipzig, where we wished to be for the fair. our journey was an uneventful one, except that one day in mesnia, having lost our way, we came at the end of a big forest upon a small tenement which was the residence of a poor gentleman. the fast gathering darkness compelled us to knock at the noble's dwelling, which was inhabited by a young widow of only a few weeks' standing with her mother-in-law. the bad-tempered old woman roughly refused us shelter. "go wherever you like," she snarled. her daughter-in-law, on the other hand, said; "we did not expect any one, and we do not keep an inn, but it is getting darker and darker, and you would have to go a long way before finding one. if you will be content with our humble accommodation, you may remain for the night." at these words the other one storms and raves. "may the devil take you and them. you have found some youngsters who are to your taste, and you have already forgotten my son." i tried to appease her. "we have never before been in this country," i said to her; "at daybreak we'll be able to find our way. you need not be afraid of our using unsuitable language or doing aught that is not right, and we'll be satisfied with whatever accommodation you can give us, as long as our horses have some fodder and some straw. for all this we'll willingly pay." the virago, however, turned a deaf ear to this. if we were not the lovers of her daughter-in-law why should we have come at this late hour in the neighbourhood where no stranger ever came? the young woman was very patient throughout. after having provided us with hay and straw for our horses, she took us to a lofty room of very modest appearance. there was no man or woman servant to be seen; our supper, though, was none the worse for it. after she had set all our provisions before us, our hostess sat down and told us the sad existence she was leading. the bed was moderately comfortable, and the sheets were clean. we paid more than was asked. at leipzig i stopped two days to rest my horse. i gave my brother the wherewithal for his return journey, and continued my way alone. the country as far as frankfurt was known to me. from butzbach i went by niederweisel and the hundfruck, a route i had often pursued with my former master, the commander of st. john. it is more direct than by friburg, but it swarms with highway robbers. as i was walking my horse up the slope of the forest i caught sight of two horsemen who were evidently bent on waiting for me, as they posted themselves, the one to the left and the other to the right of the road, and when i was between them they began interpellating me in a gruff voice. "from what country?" "from pomerania." "what hast thou got in thy valise?" "letters." "whither art thou going?" "to spires." "to whom dost thou belong?" "to the dukes of pomerania. here is my safe-conduct." thereupon one of them became more friendly. "and how is his highness duke philip, that excellent prince? i knew him very well at heidelberg." and on my recommendation for them to go their way and to let me go mine, they looked at me very hard for a few moments, but did not follow me. i sold my horse and equipment at frankfurt, and went down the main as far as mayence, whence, going up the rhine, i got to oppenheim, and by the coach to worms and spires. i reached the latter town on january , . i hired a room with a dressing closet at a clothshearer's, who was also a councillor. i also boarded with him, like many young doctors of law and other notable persons detained at spires by their functions or by their wish to get practical experience. dr. simeon engelhardt, who, by the express act of a formal decision of his imperial majesty, had not been reinstated in his office of procurator any more than his brother-in-law, the licentiate bernard mey and johannes helfmann had transferred his household goods to landau. at his recommendation, dr. johannes portius, for procurator, and i brought him so many clients that he would accept no fees from me. engelhardt remained my advocate, notwithstanding the inconvenience of the distance between us. how often have i walked the four miles between spires and landau! by starting at the closing of the gates, i reached landau for the hour fixed for their opening; the morning sufficed to transact my business with the doctor, and my return journey was accomplished in the afternoon. nor did engelhardt claim any fees, but i remember having taken to him a client who for a single act paid him twenty crowns without his asking. the correspondence, thanks to the pomeranian couriers always at my disposal, was equally cheap. the lloytz of stettin chose me as their solicitor.[ ] martin weyer, in the "cammin" affair, did the same. there were others, and all, except weyer, paid me handsomely. i was getting well known among the procurators, and i finally acted _pro principale vel adjuncto notario_. i earned, then, sufficient to live comfortably without having recourse to the paternal purse. i even could put aside the whole of my appointments, and something over. the chief benefit, however, lay in the acquisition of experience, the fruits of which have extended to the whole of my family, because my pen has always been the sole means of livelihood. if that business be well learnt and well carried out, it leaves no one to starve. folks may mention the word scribe with as much contempt as they please; the fact remains that i have had many a choice morsel, and drunk delicious draughts through being a scribe. from spires i wrote to sebastian münster that their highnesses were particularly anxious not to hurry the printing of his excellent _cosmographie_, because a special messenger was to bring him a description of pomerania the moment it was finished, and that it would prove not the least valuable ornament of his work. he sent word that it was impossible for him to delay; his step-son was so deeply engaged in the undertaking that he would be ruined if he missed the next lent fair at frankfurt. i transmitted the reply to pomerania; the same messenger brought back a big bundle of notes, unfortunately incomplete, as they pointed out to me. i promptly sent them to sebastian münster, promising to let him have the rest the moment i received them. he kindly sent me an autograph letter, which my children will find joined to that of dr. martin luther.[ ] it struck me that an interview with sebastian münster would enable me to inform our princes accurately. the imperial chamber had its vacation. it was an excellent opportunity to see alsace, flowing with corn and wine, so many handsome towns, the seat of the margrave of baden, bishops and courts, and, above all, the city of basle. hence, i undertook the journey on foot, an affair of about sixty miles there and back. at strasburg i lodged at my friend's, daniel capito, a poor home, but we took our meals at the tavern of the _ammeister_.[ ] in the church at basle i saw the stone statue of desiderius erasmus, of rotterdam. i invited herr lepusculus, the fugitive of augsburg, to dinner, and we talked of many interesting things. i also became well acquainted with sebastian münster, who gave me a most hearty welcome. a huge room of his house contained a quantity of plates, either cast, engraved on wood or on copper. they had come from germany, italy or france; they were geographical, astronomical, or mathematical drawings, representing pieces of engineering work for the use of miners, and views of cities, countries, castles, or convents, that were to figure in his _cosmographie_. he was most anxious for me to stay with him, so that he might show me the objects of interest connected with the town; unfortunately, my time was too short. after having taken leave of münster and lepusculus, i went back to spires on foot. i was just in time for a message from pomerania relative to the lawsuit between duke barnim and the town of stolpe. the latter, on the pretext of an attempt against its privileges, had deputed simon wolder to attend upon the emperor. wolder was a young jackanapes without education, but pushing and cunning, and by dint of intriguing he obtained the confirmation of the said privileges, and for himself the imperial safeguard. the people of stolpe had their triumph, and to judge by their swaggering one would have concluded they had no longer anything in common with their prince and lord. duke barnim, though, having entered the town amidst his soldiers, summoned the council and the burghers to the town hall, and when he got them there, he forbade those who had had a hand in the intriguing to stir, while the others should stand aside. the majority of those present changed their positions; the rest, and notably the burgomaster schwabe, a near relation to the bishop of cammin, were imprisoned at stettin, at greiffenberg, and at treptow, while simon wolder fled to the emperor, who was fighting the white moors (?) in africa. he succeeded in obtaining from the emperor the categorical order for releasing the prisoners, on the express penalty of being put "under the ban"; but that injunction arrived too late. the friends of the prisoners humbly interceded for them, and each liberation was bought at a heavy fine and after a long detention. as for wolder, far from resting on his oars, he pursued his intrigues at the imperial court, ingratiating himself with the princes, the nobles, and the cities. he enjoyed great favour; he dressed magnificently. where did the money for all this display come from? in short, at the restoration of the imperial chamber, an action was begun. the dukes of pomerania had unquestionably cause for anxiety, for their relations with the emperor were already very strained, and the latter's victory made him very disinclined to exercise much consideration to the partisans of the augsburg confession. simon wolder was jubilant; he looked upon the business as good as won; judges and assessors were papists, and their highnesses under a cloud of imperial disgrace. we devoted the most serious attention at spires to the suit; procurator ziegler and advocate johannes kalte amply did their duty; if need had been, i was there to spur them on. at stettin, on the contrary, martin weyer and dr. schwallenberger, to whom the affair was entrusted, were mere sluggards whose conduct was disgraceful. we shall meet with schwallenberger again. in may our counsellors wrote to me to take the two golden cups to brussels to them. the rumour ran, in fact, that the emperor's son was coming from spain in great pomp; and our envoys hoped to secure, through the influence of certain important personages, his intercession with the emperor. i started immediately, going down the rhine as far as the meuse, and pursuing my journey by land by way of s'hertogenbosch (bois le due) and louvain. when i had delivered my precious deposit, the wish to see something of flanders impelled me to ghent. it is a big city, formerly endowed with important privileges. for instance, the emperor could impose no taxes in flanders or demand anything without the assent of the said city. charles v has deprived it of its privileges. he has razed a convent and several houses to the ground, and on their site built a castle with huge, deep moats filled with water, besides other remarkable outworks, so that the city is at his mercy. in the centre of ghent there rises a high steeple. i climbed to the top, and it is from there that the emperor and his brother ferdinand chose the spot whereon to build their fortress; they traced there, _propriis manibus_, their symbolum in red chalk. the castle where charles v saw the light is a decrepit, unsightly kind of tenement, surrounded by water, and accessible only by a drawbridge. at the head of the bridge, on the parapet, there are two bronze statues; one is kneeling, and behind it there is the second with uplifted sword. tradition has it that they represent two men condemned to death, father and son, for whom no executioner could be found. they then promised the father a full pardon if he would behead his son. at his refusal the offer was made to the son, who accepted it with joy and gratitude, and severed his father's head from the trunk. in antwerp i met with herr heinrich buchow, the future counsellor of stralsund. we had both heard much about the house of gaspard duitz, about a good mile distant from the city. people compared it to the castle of trent, some even said that it was handsomer. we obtained a letter from the owner to his steward, who showed us everything, and really rumour had not been guilty of exaggeration. though there were a great number of them, each room was differently decorated; each contained a bed and a table. the hangings were of the same colour as the bed-curtains, and the cloth on the table which was either of velvet or damask, black, red or violet, as the case might be. musical instruments everywhere, but varying in every room. here a kettledrum; there polish viols, elsewhere lutes, harps, zithers, hautboys, bassoons, swiss fifes, etc. the girl who showed us over the place quite correctly played the kettledrum, the viol and the lute. in front of the house a beautiful garden cultivated with art, and enhanced by many exotics. further on a zoological collection. the ground floor has one hall of such magnificence that one day madame marie entertained her brother there. the emperor, having looked and appreciated everything, asked: "to whom, sister mine, belongs this house?" "to our treasurer." "well," rejoined the emperor, "our treasurer evidently knows the science of profit-making." this gaspard duitz, an italian by birth, a shrewd and even cunning merchant, had exercised commerce on a large scale at antwerp, and failed twice if not three times. when he had thousands upon thousands of crowns in hand, he asked his creditors for five years' delay. madame marie, for instance, gave him such letters of respite. of course, those rogueries made him very wealthy, and when madame marie was in need of money, her treasurer came to her aid. a house in antwerp, which had cost him thousands of florins, not having realized his expectations--the drawbacks of a structure becoming only apparent after it is finished--he had it razed to the ground and rebuilt according to his taste. the count maximilian van buren (the same who, in the schmalkalden campaign, took the dutch horsemen to the emperor), having heard of duitz's famous country seat, "invited himself" to it. master gaspard treated his visitor magnificently, showed him everything, and when taking leave inquired if perchance the count had noticed some fault or shortcoming in the decorations or general disposition of the whole; for, if such were the case, he would alter it, even if he had to send for artists from venice or rome. "no," replied the count; "the only thing wanting is a high gallows at the entrance, with gaspard duitz securely swinging from it." that was the count's acknowledgment of his host's hospitality, and he might have added: "with a crown on his head, as an arch-thief."[ ] from antwerp i went to malines. what an admirable country! louvain, brussels and antwerp, three big and handsome cities, are at an equal distance from each other, and malines, which one always has to cross to get to either, stands in the centre. along the route there are magnificent castles and lordly dwellings. malines is a pretty city, though the smallest of the four; the water is brought there _labore et industriâ hominum_, and enables one to reach antwerp by boat. i saw the damage caused by the lightning of august , , when it fell on a powder magazine, which was entirely destroyed, together with the outer wall; huge quarters were hurled on the roofs of houses. there was a great loss of life and property. at malines i went to see vogel heine, who, in the days of maximilian i, the great-great-grandfather of the present emperor, went in advance to prepare the night quarters. the emperor had left him sufficient to live upon; the woman who took care of him had her lodging and firing. heine was so old and so decrepit as to be unable to stir from a room that was constantly heated. people gave the woman a small tip to see her charge, and in that way she made for herself a small income instead of wages. from louvain i took the most direct and shortest road to juliers and cologne; at the latter place i put up at _the angel_. the host had a raven that spoke, and even understood what was said to it. if, in the evening, there was a knock at the door, the bird asked: "is anybody knocking?" "yes," replied the new-comer. but as the travellers' room happened to be at the back of the house, overlooking the rhine, nobody stirred, and the knocking was repeated, the bird, on its part, repeating the same question. "can't you hear?" said the claimant for admission, out of patience, and knocking much louder, so that they could hear it from the travellers' room. naturally, the servant came to open the door, and endeavoured to mollify the would-be guest's anger by saying that they had heard no knocking. thereupon the other called him a liar, or at any rate treated him as such; thereupon the cage with the bird in it was pointed out as evidence, and everything was well. the bird, upon the whole, was most remarkable, and many great personages made the most tempting offers for it, which were always refused. six or seven years later, when i visited cologne again, i inquired what had become of the bird, and its owner told me that he was then at law with a gentleman who, coming in drunk, had drawn his sword and cut the bird's head off. the host assured me that he would sooner have lost three hundred crowns. after having gone up the rhine as far as mayence, i took the coach to spires. in june king philip, the emperor's son, came to spires with a numerous suite. his father had appointed the cardinal of trent, a seigneur de madrutz, as his marshal. the king was then about twenty-two years of age, my junior by seven. his far from intellectual face gave little hope of his equalling his father one day. the elector of heidelberg, the other counts palatine, the ecclesiastical electors, all of them in their state carriages, attended on him when he went to church. well, i often saw his father under similar circumstances. when he came out of his apartments and mounted his horse in the courtyard, where princes and electors already in the saddle awaited him, he was the first to take his hat off. if it happened to rain, so much the worse. he remained bare-headed, and was not the less affable either in speech or gesture. he held out his hand to everybody, and did the same when he came back. when, at the foot of the staircase, he turned out, faced his escort, took off his hat, and bade them farewell in a gracious manner. king philip, on the contrary, was most exacting with the electors and the princes, though many of them were old men. while the latter dismounted at the door of the church, philip went in without troubling about them, making signs behind his back with his hands for them to march by his side, but they merely followed him. after the service they accompanied the king back to the palace. he jumped down, and went up the stairs without a look or a word of farewell. his marshal had, nevertheless, told him that there was a great difference between spanish and german princes. as a proof of this, he quoted to him the paternal example, as typified by the consideration shown to the german nobles by the emperor, but philip answered: "between myself and my father, the difference is as great, for he is only the son of a king; i am the son of an emperor." after having officially made their appearance, the princes promptly left for their own states. philip spent a few more days hunting and going about, his suite being reduced to fourteen or twelve horses, and then the duke of aarschot came for him, by order of the emperor, to take him with a magnificent escort to brussels. notwithstanding my constant reminders to them of the mortal danger of delay, the stettin authorities were terribly slow in sending me the most indispensable documents for the serious lawsuit against the town of stolpe. as some people, moreover, were attempting to discredit me with duke barnim, i wrote to chancellor falck, who answered me: "you do not deserve the slightest reproach. all the neglect is on this side; but, in truth, the whole of your letter is so much arabic to me, because i have not the faintest idea of the lawsuit itself." that is how things are managed at courts. on the banks of the rhine it is the custom to organize at twelfth night a complete court--king, marshal, steward, cup-bearer, etc. as a matter of course, the court fool is indispensable. the charges are drawn for by lot; each pays part of the expenses; alone the fool is exempt. in there gathered round our table a young baron from the low countries, a bright young fellow, with considerable experience of the world, also several persons of consideration who were detained at spires by their law business. it fell to my lot to be king, with the baron for my marshal. as for the fool, chance had picked out our host, the priest, and nature seemed really to have created him for the part. in my capacity of king i had a many-coloured hooded cloak of english linen made for him. when we had visitors, and, thanks to the gay baron, this happened frequently, our host put on his cloak and took our guests to task. we shook with laughter, but he himself fared very well by it, for his buffoonery brought him many silver and even gold pieces. he bought himself silver bells for his cap, and his cloak became spangled with gold and silver coins. this went on until "kingdom" time, which is celebrated one sunday evening between twelfth night and shrovetide. there are three or four kingdoms each sunday, and the masked people of both sexes go from one gathering to another in fancy dress and accompanied by musicians. they have the right of three dances with those who give the entertainments. all this afforded capital opportunities for every kind of dissipation and debauch. one evening, for instance, it happened that a husband and his wife, after having danced together, divided for the second dance and came together for the third, without, however, recognizing each other. side by side they went to another house, and having understood each other's desires by the pressure of their hands, they indulged their sudden fancy on their way in the penumbra of a clothworker's shop in the market place, and never did the hallowed joys of matrimony taste like the forbidden fruit of infidelity; at any rate, so each imagined. being anxious to know who was his partner, the swain cut a snippet from her dress and, moreover, made her a present of a gold piece, then both joined the rest of the company. the husband was a chamois-leather dresser, and next morning some one came to buy a skin, and tendered a large coin. as he had no change himself, he took his wife's satchel and found the golden piece, which he recognized at once. when the customer was gone, the dame had to show the gown she wore on the previous evening, the husband confronted her with the abstracted piece of stuff. denial was impossible, but the one happened to be as guilty as the other. we gave our fool ample opportunity to adorn his dress. at the carnival he made himself conspicuous by many pleasant quips and pranks; the marshal also did wonders, standing erect before his majesty, and zealously attending upon him by bringing up the dishes, carving the viands, and cleaning the table with many genuflections and kissing of hands. the king paid very dearly for his three or four hours' reign. our host was a careless, irresponsible creature, more fit for the life of camps or of courts than for the priesthood; a gambler, a rogue, a boaster, a drunkard, a brawler, and an adept at jesting and practical joking. he did not care whether his boarders were papists or evangelicals. he was one of the three who celebrated early mass at the cathedral. his young boarders, the graduates, were fond of cards, and clever gamblers. they thought that a seasoned gamester like their host must necessarily be a valuable adviser, so they spent their night round the board. about three in the morning their landlord cried: "brothers, don't you move; i am going to say mass. but it will be short and sweet; just long enough to blow the dust off the altar, and i'll be back." and he was as good as his word. it was a custom to place, during the night of good friday, a crucifix in one of the lateral chapels, and the three priests who said early mass were deputed to watch over it. long files of matrons prostrated themselves, face downward, and deposited their offerings. on one occasion, towards three in the morning, the reverend guardians who no longer expected contributors, divided the receipts and began to gamble. thanks to his long practice, our host won every penny to the annoyance of his colleagues. a quarrel ensued at the foot of the cross, followed by blows; our man being the strongest, the victory and the money remained with him. in "rogation week" the clergy in their richest vestments, and carrying crosses, banners, and relics, perambulate the fields, followed by crowds of men and women. a young priest, thinking this a propitious time for an assignation, left the procession, and disappeared among the standing corn, whither a young damsel went after him. two workmen, though, had noticed the manoeuvre; they watched for the opportune moment, surprised the couple, and only left the "black beetle" after having stripped him of his gown and surplice, both which "proofs positive" they brought to the dean of the chapter. i have not the least doubt that the king of spain interceded in favour of our princes. assiduous solicitations, but above all the goldsmiths' work and the gratifications so much prized at courts and in large cities, mollified the influential counsellers, the seigneur de granvelle, his son, the bishop of arras, and others. the emperor finally consented to an arrangement, one of the conditions of which was the payment of a fine of ninety thousand florins. the imperial chancellerie demanded three thousand florins for engrossing the act of reconciliation, which i could have done as elegantly in one day. the bishop of arras, to whom reverted half the chancellery fees, abandoned them in our favour, but he lost nothing by his generosity. in sum, this little matter cost two hundred thousand florins. one of the conditions imposed upon our princes was the acceptance of the "interim." the pomeranian clergy unanimously rejected this work of satan. the council of stralsund summoned the ministers before it to forbid them pronouncing the word "interim" from the pulpit, and, above all, to add any ill-sounding expression to it on the penalty of being deposed from their sacred office. as for the doctrines themselves, they were at liberty to weigh and to refute them by the holy scriptures. but superintendent johannes freder, an obstinate and narrow-minded man, replied that as a good shepherd he neither could nor would deliver his flock to the rage of devouring wolves, for to do this would be to imperil his own body and soul. he furthermore said that if he were dismissed god would provide, and that, moreover, men of education were not liked at stralsund. the council adjourned the meeting, and two of its members intimated his dismissal to freder. the next day the ministers presented a petition signed by all except johannes niemann. they claimed their liberty of conscience and their right to serve the cause of truth by denouncing from the pulpit the damnable abominations of the "interim." "one must obey god rather than men," they said. the impetuous alexis grosse and johannes berckmann were conspicuous by their anger. they hurled the most offensive accusations against honest niemann, and tried to carry things with such a high hand that the council, greatly irritated, decided there and then upon the dismissal of grosse, after payment of the arrears due to him. the other preachers expected the same fate, but matters went no farther, so niemann would have risked nothing by adding his signature to that of his colleagues. besides, the interim was assailed from every direction; the attacks were made in german, in latin, in italian, in french, and in spanish. every line was weighed and refuted in the name of the holy word. the pope, for very shame, did not know where to hide his face. let my children bear in mind the high degree of fortune attained by the emperor. at the summit of that prosperity, when everything seemed to proceed according to his desires, he imagined that unhindered he could break his promise to undertake nothing against the augsburg confession. for love of the pope, he contemplated ruining the unshakable stronghold of luther. from that moment the emperor's star waned; all his enterprises failed. instead of being razed to the ground, luther's stronghold was, on the contrary, furnished with solid ramparts, and to-day it counts powerful defenders in germany, such as the duke of prussia, the margrave of baden, the margrave ernest von pforzheim, and others, while among other nations the number of champions inspired by the blood of the martyrs is constantly on the increase. that stronghold shall set its enemies at defiance for evermore. at stettin they went on blackening my character so effectually that dr. schwallenberg succeeded in getting himself sent on a mission to repair the effects of my supposed neglect. on my side, i had made up my mind to resign the functions of solicitor, and to leave spires in december. i wrote to that effect to chancellor citzewitz, giving him the motives for my decision. at his arrival dr. schwallenberg took up his quarters at a canon's of his acquaintance--an easy method of being boarded and lodged for nothing; he had retrenched in that way all along the route, though taking care to put down his expense in the usual manner. when i presented myself at his summons, he was at table; he did not ask me to sit down, adopted a haughty tone, and even wished me to serve him. i, however, protested energetically. "this is not part of my duty. if there was an attempt to impose it upon me, i should refuse it; in that respect i have finished my apprenticeship. on the other hand, the advocate and i are very anxious to have your views on the affairs of our princes which have entailed so much writing upon me, at present without any result. will you please name your own time?" "i'll see the advocate by himself," replied schwallenberg. and, in fact, he went to the lawyer, but instead of entering upon the discussion of the urgent questions, he insinuated that i was a fifth wheel on the coach. "get him dismissed, and his emoluments will increase your modest fees," he remarked. the advocate was an honourable man. he replied that i was being slandered, and that he did not care about earning money by means of a cabal. thereupon dr. schwallenberg went for a trip to strasburg. at his return the arguments of the case were ready, but he refused to read them, alleging that they had to be submitted to the dukes. i dispatched a messenger, who also carried a missive from schwallenberg. the latter then departed for the diet of ratisbon. in due time came the princes' answer, and feeling certain that it related to the lawsuit, i opened it and read as follows: "very learned, dear and faithful! we are pleased to express to thee our particular satisfaction at thy diligence at re-establishing our affairs, so greatly compromised by our solicitor that without thy arrival on the spot they would have entirely lapsed. as for the arguments thou hast elaborated with the advocate, we have ordered them to be returned to thee the moment our counsellors shall have examined and according to need amended them. we also authorize thee to go to the diet of ratisbon at our cost, etc." it would be difficult to conceive blacker treachery. for at least a twelvemonth i had despatched messenger after messenger for instructions. in spite of that, all the delay had been imputed to me. a rogue presented as his work arguments not one word of which belonged to him; he had not even taken the trouble to read the documents. and while the princes tendered him their thanks, my disgrace was complete. i had no longer anything to expect from my fellow-men; the almighty, however, chose that moment to make my innocence patent to every one, and to confound my enemies. thus was mordecai laden with honours after the ignominious fall of haman. yes, even before the arguments were sent back from pomerania, the chamber delivered the following judgment: "in the matter of the town of stolpe and of simon wolder against his grace barnim, duke of pomerania, etc., we decide and declare that the said duke is acquitted of all the charges and obligations advanced against him by the plaintiffs." what hast thou to say against that, infamous libeller? hide thy head with shame, vile hypocrite! the feelings with which i despatched a special messenger to the duke may easily be imagined. it may be equally taken for granted that i did not mince matters in pointing out the merits of dr. schwallenberg. and although his diabolical machinations had filled my heart with sadness, they turned to my profit and my salvation, so true it is that the lord converts evil into good. i was, however, strengthened in my decision to abandon the office of solicitor, and, above all, the princes' service, and that notwithstanding citzewitz's offer, both verbal and in writing, of a profitable position at the chancellerie of wolgast. i had become disgusted with the life at courts. a new career was open to me in a town where, though the devil and his acolytes have not quite given up the game, there is nevertheless a means of enjoying one's self and to live and die according to god's precepts. my sister, who was married to peter frubose, burgomaster of greifswald, proposed to me to marry her sister-in-law. as i expected to be at greifswald on new year's day, i wrote to her to arrange the wedding before the carnival. a cabinet messenger, who was going home for good, sold me a young grey trotting horse, with its bridle and saddle. everything being wound up and settled with the advocates and procurators, etc., and having taken regular leave of them, i bade farewell to spires on december , , so disgusted with the imperial chamber as to have made up my mind never to return to it during my life. i had remained in foreign parts for five years in the interests of my father's lawsuit, in addition to the two years i had spent in behalf of the dukes of pomerania. these years were not altogether without result. in fact, both in the chancelleries of margrave ernest and of the commander of st. john, as well as at the secretary's office of our dukes and at the diets, i furthered my own affairs and amassed more money than many a doctor. it had all been done by my talent as a law writer, an art which is neither taught in bartolus nor in baldus, but which requires much application, memory, readiness to oblige and constant practice. truly, i had worked day and night, and, as this narrative shows, incurred many dangers. many folk after me, dazzled by my success, tried in their turn to become law writers, but they very soon succumbed to the monotony of the business, to the incessant labour, to the protracted vigils, to hunger, thirst, cares and dangers. barely one in a hundred succeeds. i reached stettin on december , and, all things considered, there was nothing to grumble at in the welcome i received. the counsellors, among whom were schwallenberg's confederates, heard my explanations at length as they said on behalf of the prince. i was warned that they had agreed upon baulking me of an audience. the next day they informed me that the duke was as pleased with the energy i had shown as with the tenour of my report, and that i was authorized to bring a plaint against schwallenberg. as for the prince's promise of a gratification, he had not forgotten it, and he asked me to exercise patience for a few days. he evidently wished to consult with the court of wolgast. i answered as follows: "great is my joy to learn that my lord and master appreciates my devotion and acknowledges how undeserved was my disgrace. i should be grieved to have to attack dr. schwallenberger on the eve of my marriage. the evidence, however, is conclusive; the duke is more interested than i in the punishment of the rogue. what, after all, have i to gain by a lawsuit now that the prince, heaven be praised, thanks me by word of mouth and in writing? nor is it possible for me to wait here for the promised recompense. i prefer to come back after the wedding." when they became aware of my determination to abandon the court for the city, all the counsellors intoned a "hallelujah." there was an instantaneous change of language and behaviour to me. they were lavish with offers of service, but the first sentence of chancellor citzewitz at our meeting was: "a plague upon the bird that will not wait for the stroke of fortune." here ends the story of my life previous to my marriage. part iii chapter i arrival at greifswald--betrothal and marriage--an old custom--i am in peril--martin weyer, bishop i reached greifswald on january , , at nightfall. i was thirty years old. after i had written to stralsund for my parents' consent, and had conferred with my greifswald relatives and those of my future wife, the invitations for the betrothal were sent out on both sides. on january , in the chapel of the grey friars, at eight in the morning, master matthew frubose made a solemn promise to give me his daughter, in the presence of the burgomasters, councillors, and a large number of notable burghers. burgomaster bunsow gave me a loan of two hundred florins. the worshipful council had been obliged to suppress the dances at weddings, because the manner in which the men whirled the matrons and damsels round and round had become indecent. those who infringed the order, no matter what was their condition, were cited before the minor court. it so happened that a week after our betrothal my intended and i were invited to a wedding at one of the principal families. when the wedding banquet was over, my betrothed came back to me, and, being ignorant of the council's orders, i danced with her, but most quietly, and a very short time. notwithstanding this, an officer of the court came the next morning and summoned me to appear. at the first blush i could scarcely credit such an instance of incivility. moreover, it boded ill, and i could not help foreseeing struggles, animosities, and persecution in this manner of bidding me welcome by a satellite of the hangman after an absence of eight years. does not the poet say, _omina principiis semper inesse solent_? i was very indignant, and ran to the eldest of the burgomasters. he pointed out to me that urgent and severe proceedings were necessary against the coarse licence of the students and others, but my case being entirely different, he promised to stay all proceedings. i had not said a word about the dowry, and least of all had i inquired as to its amount; but my sister told me that my father-in-law gave his daughter two hundred florins. i made no answer. my chief concern was to get a wife. according to my brother's calculations, one hundred marks yearly would suffice to keep the house. experience told me a different story. i went to stralsund for my wedding clothes and other necessary things. my father gave me some sable furs he had had for many years. i bought the cloth for the coat as well as the rest of my marriage outfit. my father had put in pledge the things i intended offering to my bride. i was obliged to redeem them. among several other objects there was a piece of velvet for collarettes for my betrothed and my sister. at frankfurt-on-the-main i had bought a dagger ornamented with silver. those various purchases exhausted my stock of money. although i had invited my numerous stralsund relatives on both sides in good time, only johannes gottschalk, my old schoolfellow and colleague at the chancellerie of wolgast, came to my wedding. he made me a present of a golden florin of lubeck. my marriage took place at greifswald on february , . as i was one of the last to "mount the stone," it may be interesting to give an account of that old custom. at three in the afternoon, and just before the celebration of the marriage service, the bridegroom was conducted to the market place between two burgomasters, or, in default of these, between the two most prominent wedding guests. at one of the angles of the place there was a square block of stone, on which the bridegroom took up his position, the guests ranging themselves in good order about fifty paces away. the pipers gave him a morning greeting lasting about five or six minutes, after which he resumed his place in the wedding procession. the purpose of the ceremony, according to tradition, was to give everybody an opportunity of addressing some useful remark to the bridegroom at that critical moment. these remarks were often more forcible and outspoken than flattering, and were not always distinguished by their strict adherence to the truth. johannes bunsow, the son of the burgomaster, had been a suitor for my wife's hand; the preliminary arrangements to the marriage were as good as completed, and the invitations to the betrothal festivities were about to be sent out when everything was broken off, in consequence of the exacting demands of the proud wife of the burgomaster from the parents of the girl. the burgomaster's wife was considerably upset about all this. it so happened that on the wedding-day at the breakfast my wife was seated between the dames bunsow and gruwel. my father, who was her cavalier, sat opposite. all at once, the burgomaster's wife said to the bride, "eat, my girl, eat, for this is the happiest day of thy life. i had made other plans for thy happiness, but thou didst not fall in with them. the culprit is either thy brother or his wife. keep thy husband at a distance, for if thou givest him an inch he will take an ell; therefore, be 'stand-offish' with him in the beginning." at these words dame gruwel exclaimed: "good heaven, what sad advice! make thy mind easy, child; there are many happy days in store for thee." eighteen months later, as we were standing talking in the street, peter and matthew schwarte and i, dame bunsow who went by, spoke to us. with the admirable volubility that distinguishes the women of greifswald, she had a word for all of us. "dear cousins," she said to the schwartes, "how do you do? how are your wives? and how are your children?" then, turning to me, "and how are you, cousin? how is your wife? i need not ask you about the children. you are having a good year of it. in these hard days one may as well save the bread." "that's farthest from our thoughts," i answered, "but that's because my wife is not 'stand-offish' enough with me." she knew what i was driving at, turned crimson, and went away without saying another word. a week after my marriage, on the sunday, i returned to stettin, as had been agreed upon. it was a fatiguing, not to say dangerous journey, because of the inundations. from the moment of my marriage the devil seemed to have declared war against me. it was, i suppose, his revenge for my having disappointed him by leaving the court, where i might have proved of great service. on the other hand, his master, our lord and saviour, took me under his protection. a very heavy snowfall had been succeeded by a sudden thaw, the effect of a warm and continuous rain. as a consequence, the overflowing of banks everywhere, the mill-stream near ukermünde had swept away the roadway at several spots. on the very day of my departure, a van laden, among other things, with a case of sealed letters, registers, documents and parchments, had passed that way, coming from wolgast. our travellers, knowing that they were on the high road, went ahead. suddenly the horses fell into a deep rut; the cart was overturned, and only by a mighty effort did beasts and men escape drowning. they had to spend the night at ukermünde to dry the letters. i came to the spot of the accident in the afternoon. i was gaily trotting along, for i was following the highway and the fresh traces of the vehicle from wolgast. my good fortune befriended me in the shape of a miller's lad who was standing by the water. he called out and showed me a little lower down, to the right, the way to a small burgh, having passed which i should find a long road and a bridge, the only available passage left. though night was gathering fast, i ventured into the sodden road, beaten by big muddy waves. my horse was soon breast deep in the water, the force of the current threatening at every moment to sweep it off its legs. the poor beast was perfectly conscious of its danger, and reared whenever it felt the ground slipping away. finally, the journey was accomplished without serious mishap, though it was completely dark when i got to the inn at ukermünde, where the travellers from wolgast and the host himself could scarcely believe their eyes. i felt confident of having faithfully served duke barnim; i was, therefore, justified in my expectation of a princely remuneration. heaven forbid that i should impute unfairness to this excellent gentleman, but part of the counsellors connected by birth with the people of stolpe, were dissatisfied with the issue of the lawsuit, while others, such as martin weyer, had disgraced themselves by assisting schwallenberg in his intrigues. in short, they discussed me so well that the prince only allowed me five and twenty florins as a gratification, while duke philip, whose business had not given me a hundredth part of the worry, presented me with five and twenty crowns. the court at wolgast had waited to see what stettin should do. later on it employed me in a great many cases yielding large fees and spreading my name throughout the country. from wolgast they sent me for my wedding a wild boar and four deer; at stettin, the marshal told me that they intended to do likewise, but no one had paid any further attention to the matter. on returning from stettin night overtook me on the heath. it was infested with wolves, boars, and other dangerous animals; moreover, strange apparitions and terrible noises were often seen and heard there. i saw nothing; i heard nothing; and, besides, felt not in the least afraid. i have already mentioned that the discussion with regard to the bishopric of cammin had been brought before the imperial diet.[ ] canon martin weyer, the delegate of the chapter, was on most friendly terms with the bishop of arras; they had studied together at bologna. in the course of their discussions on the subject, they put themselves this question: if the deposition of the bishop is to be persisted in, where can we find a candidate agreeable to the emperor, and not too antipathetic to the dukes of pomerania? thereupon his grace of arras conceived the idea of proposing weyer himself. at first, the latter opposed the project altogether, objecting that he was not of the popish religion. his interlocutor assured him, however, that there was a means of arranging with the legate to obtain a dispensation. briefly, when restored to favour, the dukes of pomerania asked the emperor to accept as bishop of cammin martin weyer, their faithful subject, servitor and counsellor, and besides, a saintly man, almost an angel. he soon laid bare the bottom of his heart, _honores enim mutant mores et magistratus virum docet_. at the manifest instigation of the legate and of the bishop of arras, the new prelate sent his secretary to rome to render homage to the pope, who afterwards granted the bulls _in optimâ formâ_. i fancied the time had come for martin weyer largely to remunerate the services i had rendered him as his solicitor at the imperial chamber during two years, but to my written requests he answered with very bad grace when he answered at all. i must admit that having been for a twelvemonth or so weyer's companion at augsburg, and during the journey to the low countries, i did, perhaps, not treat him with sufficient ceremony according to his taste. i deemed it sufficient to address him as "your grace," without the "serenissime," and that vexed him. besides, he failed to digest the defeat of schwallenberg and his gang, not the least accessory to which he had been. i have seen at the chancellerie of wolgast a missive from weyer to duke philip couched in the following terms: "from the authentic copy herewith of the papal bulls, your grace" (he did not add "serenissime") "will perceive that his holiness, yielding to his inclination for my person even more than to your grace's recommendation, has entrusted me with the spiritual government of cammin." the affair ended in a convocation of one day at cammin, where weyer was assisted by dr. tauber, of wittenberg, invested with the title of chancellor. it was positively stated that he had promised him fifteen hundred golden florins. i went to the convocation with the delegates of greifswald to try to drag something from the new bishop, and finally, canon von wolde succeeded in getting thirty crowns for me. i had therefore an opportunity of witnessing a sitting of the diet. two tables covered with black velvet cloths had been placed in the hall fifteen paces apart. at the one sat duke bogislaw, acting for himself and in the name of his brothers, at that time absent from the country. standing before him were the marshal ulrich schwerin, the chancellor citzewitz, and several counsellors and delegates of the states. the bishop occupied the other table, tauber standing by his side; and in front the episcopal counsellors and the delegates of the chapter. each party exposed at length the rights with which it was invested. citzewitz having said, "the princes are lords of the chapter," dr. tauber replied, "yes, _sed secundum quid_? his grace," turning towards the bishop, "is in plenary possession of the right of administration of the chapter." ulrich schwerin, who was not well versed in letters, asked the meaning of _secundum quid_. "it's a term of contempt," said citzewitz; "it's tantamount to saying that the dukes are princes like those on the playing cards." schwerin's angry face was worth watching. "a plague upon the scoundrel for treating our princes like playing card personages." from that time tauber was known throughout the land as the doctor _secundum quid_. after a most lengthy disputation, each party presented its formula for the convocation of the bishop to the diets and sittings. that of the princes was as follows: "to our venerable chief prelate, counsellor, dear and faithful seignor martin, bishop of cammin. our greetings, dear, venerable and beloved! the welfare of our countries and of the common fatherland forbidding us from further delay in the convocation of a diet, we have decided to hold it on the ... in our city of stettin, where we graciously request you to be present on the said day, to hear our intentions." as for the bishop, his formula was indited somewhat differently: "to the high and venerable in god, the seignor martin, bishop of cammin, our signal friend. our friendly greeting, high and venerable in god, and signal friend. the welfare of our countries and of our common fatherland forbidding us from further delay in the convocation of a diet, we have decided to hold it on the ... in our city of stettin, where we amicably request you to be present on the said day." i never knew the issue of the debate, and took no trouble to find out, as at the conclusion of the first sitting i embraced an opportunity of returning home by carriage. i am disposed to think that the chapter had better remain under the authority of the house of pomerania. princely titles are best suited to born princes; people of mediocre condition do not know how to bear them. they carry their heads too high, and their would-be magnificence exceeds all bounds. chapter ii severe difficulties after my marriage--my labours and success as a law-writer and notary, and subsequently as a procurator--an account of some of the cases in which i was engaged i trust my children may be enabled to read the following attentively and remember the same as my justification. they will learn that i devoted every moment to my work, and avoided all useless expense, that i kept away from the tavern, went but rarely to weddings or banquets, and only entertained guests when not to do so would have been unbecoming, as, for instance, on occasions of family feasts or of civic repasts. it is--thanks to that retired life, scarcely diversified by the rare indulgence of a favourite dish washed down by a copious libation--that i have been enabled to amass a sufficient competence to make the devil and his acolytes burst with envy. their jealousy goes as far as to accuse me of having arrived very poor at stralsund, and to have ransomed the city, magnified my travelling expenses, and abused the custody of the seals. this third part of the story of my life will explain the origin of my fortune. stralsund has never been instrumental in making my position, and i have never proved false to my oath. my monetary provision after my wedding consisted of gottschalk's golden florin, hence, two florins of current coin; my savings and the gratifications were nothing more than a memory. i had nothing to expect from my father. we were in a bare and cold tenement we had rented; in default of a boiler my wife did the washing in an earthen jar. without money and without a livelihood, i did not dare to ask my father-in-law for the promised two hundred florins, for he had warned me that it was my father's duty to begin paying up. i was obliged to listen to the humiliating words, "to get married without anything to live upon." my wife herself was getting fretful; a loaf of fine flour on our table set her grumbling as a luxury beyond our means. she said to her mother, "you did not advise me; you simply handed me over." a friend of her childhood, a burgomaster's daughter, had married a wealthy old man. wallowing in luxury, the owner of two houses (i was his tenant), she overwhelmed us with jokes, and asked my wife what she intended to do with her swallow's tail, alluding to the sword i continued to wear. what a deplorable beginning! god's help has, nevertheless, enabled me to provide during the space of forty-six years for my wants and those of my family. it was not a small affair, considering that the maintenance and starting in life of my children cost more than nine thousand florins, and my household, one year with another, three hundred florins. i, moreover, own a well appointed house, and am enabled to live _ex fructibus pecuniae salvo capitali_, and for the last forty-six years could truthfully say: "i am better off to-day than yesterday." and i have accomplished all this with my pen. thanks be to the lord. the people of the city asked me to be their scribe. the richest grain merchant, a personage without merit save that of his money, dictated a long petition to me, intended for the sovereign. he was pleased with my editing and writing of it, and he asked me how much he owed me. as i did not care to accept any remuneration, he flung two schellings of lubeck on the table, exclaiming, "don't be an ass. have you not got your paunch to fill?" from the lips of any one else this would have savoured of sarcasm, but that man meant no harm. the public and private courses of the _artistae, philosophi et jurisperiti_ of greifswald could only be profitable to a scribe and notary; hence, i spent every available moment attending them. i hired a room in the priory building, and was there from morn till night, only going home to dine, and coming back immediately afterwards. my first clerk was the son of master peter schwarz, but i could do nothing with him; then i took martin speckin, who by now is a rich young fellow. his greifswald people brought him to me; part of his duty was to keep my room at the priory sufficiently heated, and to precede me with the lantern when i went out. he was a zealous servitor. meanwhile, i incurred everybody's criticism, and my wife showed her displeasure pretty openly. people, she said, thought it disgraceful for me to return to school once more. my maternal grandmother asked me if as yet i had not learnt to keep a family. the remarks did not affect me in the least. i continued attending the lectures of joachim moritz, and day by day it appeared to me i got a better understanding of the practice of law. my interest in useful literature also increased day by day. _crescit amor studii quantum ipsa scientia crescit_. not less true did the other proverb begin to appear: _crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit_. i also followed the public courses of balthazar rau, to-day dr. rau of the _libellus de anima_ of philip melanchthon. nor was i ashamed to join his _discipuli privati_, to whom he expounded at his house the _dialectica_ of the same author. i felt very satisfied with myself for doing all this, and on february , , the imperial chamber inscribed my name on the roll of its notaries, on the presentation of duke philip. my eldest son saw the light on august of the same year. the confinement was a most critical one, and through the midwife's blundering, he had a stiff neck for his life.[ ] on september he was christened, and received the name of johannes. his two godfathers were the burgomasters gaspard bunsow and peter gruwel, and his great-grandmother stood as his godmother. my eldest daughter, catherine, was born on december , , and christened the next day.[ ] the wife of v. prien, a daughter of the house of maltzan, had taken possession of the fief of schorsow, in virtue of the privilege accorded to noble damsels by the laws of mecklenburg. when she died, and even before she was buried, the maltzans of mecklenburg violently invaded the fief. joachim maltzan, of osten and of nerung, who had helped his cousins by sending them reinforcements, was cited before the imperial chamber, in _poenam fractae pacis_. as he was most uneasy about the issue of the suit, dr. b. vom walde and chancellor citzewitz advised him to send me to spires provided with counsel's opinion of joachim moritz. i complied with their wish, though the journey was exceedingly inconvenient to me. joachim maltzan provided me with two completely equipped horses, and the necessary funds; the chancellor and the doctor promised me a handsome gratification at my return. instead of a servant, i took my brother christian, and we started on the sunday of quasimodo (the sunday after easter). at spires i fully instructed both procurator and advocate. the document drawn up by moritz elicited their praise. they had no idea of the existence on the shores of the baltic of a lawyer of that merit. they soon considered their client as being out of his difficulties, and, my mind at rest, i set out for my return journey to pomerania. i got there at whitsuntide. when sending back the horses to maltzan, i added my report, which put an end to his anxiety, and at the same time forwarded an account of my expenses day by day, the price of each meal, etc., leaving him to decide the amount of my honorarium. well, the moment he felt reassured, maltzan did not show the least inclination to settle with me; on the contrary, he accused me of having been too lavish. "look at the fellow, and then consider the copious meals he took. may all the evils of job befall thee." that was his favourite objurgation. in vain did i call to my aid the two counsellors who, as it were, had forced my hand. maltzan turned a deaf ear to all my requests. at the beginning he would have given hundreds to get over his difficulties, but now he sang out, "i have broken the rope, and i do not care." he was very rich, but very mean and coarse beyond description. one night at wolgast, i saw him send his hose at bedtime to be repaired. when early next morning the tailor brought the garment back, he asked a florin for his work. maltzan refused to give more than a schelling, and overwhelmed the poor wretch with curses. the latter had, however, to take what he could get. maltzan, who could neither write nor read, was obliged to have a secretary, but in consequence of his avarice, he had to be content with mediocre individuals. dr. gentzkow found him one who was satisfied with earning his food and a small salary. after a couple of years, during which his master had dragged him about with him to rostock and elsewhere, everybody knew him as maltzan's servant. he knew all maltzan's investments, as well as the dates of his revenues being due; it was he who stored away the money in linen bags. "put a hundred crowns into each bag, and place them in a line," said maltzan. "in that way, i can see at a glance where i am; ten bags make a thousand crowns." one fine morning the secretary stamped a blank sheet of paper with the seal of his employer, departed for rostock, took on credit at the ordinary tradesman's as much velvet, satin and damask as he could conveniently carry away, filled in the blank sheet in his master's name, then returned and took from each bag only ten crowns in order to dissimulate his theft. after that he went collecting the outstanding debts, farmers' and tenants' rents, etc., and disappeared with a sum sufficient to remunerate a good secretary for a decade of years or more. maltzan himself had the annoyance of having to make good the merchant's losses. he had never been married, and his property, amounting to a hundred thousand golden florins, fell to two cousins, who spent it in feasting, swilling, and riotous living. one died burdened with debt; the other is alive, but in a similar position. ill-gotten goods do not last. the only means of bringing maltzan to book seemed to me to inform the spires procurator of everything, and to ask him to write to maltzan that he was going to lose his case in default of some documents that had remained in my possession. duke philip immediately recommended me to hand them over on the penalty of being held responsible for all the damages that might accrue. i promptly replied that i would bring them into court, where i should have the honour of presenting my respects to signor maltzan, and to claim at the same time the salary due to me. this had the effect of making the generous gentleman swear like a devil incarnate, to the vast joy and diversion of the prince and the counsellors, who took great pleasure in pouring oil upon the flames. maltzan was obliged to count out to me there and then a hundred crowns, which was much more than i had originally asked, and he received, besides, a severe reprimand. my energy in the matter was fully acknowledged, and they added: "if ever we should ask you a similar service, you may refuse to render it without the fear of displeasing us." the sacristan of müggenwald committed homicide. the lord of the manor, who wished to get him out of the trouble, entrusted the case to me. a relative of the victim had retained dr. nicholas gentzkow and christian smiterlow for the prosecution. i obtained a verdict for the accused. dr. johannes knipstrow having announced from the pulpit, in the name and by order of the prince, that master j. runge was going to succeed him in the office of superintendent, the greifswald council considered the nomination as an infringement of its rights. its _syndicus_ at stralsund, dr. gentzkow, formulated before me, a public notary convened for the purpose, both a verbal and written protest, of the latter of which i delivered a duly executed duplicate to the council of greifswald, the legitimate charge for the same being three crowns. bartholomew, of greifswald, a most intelligent, but also an exceedingly depraved goldsmith, had established himself at stralsund with his son-in-law, nicholas schladenteuffel. as their expenditure exceeded their income, bartholomew made counterfeit coin, lubeck, rostock, wismar and stralsund currency. the schellings supposed to issue from the latter city's mint contained nothing but copper. by means of some tartaric composition he made them look so wonderfully like silver as to deceive everybody. in a very short time both the city and the country were inundated with this spurious coin, for nicholas made large purchases of cattle for the slaughter-houses. finally, in september , when the farmers and peasantry came to pay their rent, the suspicions of the ducal land-steward were aroused, and the fraud discovered. the witnesses' depositions pointing unanimously to a cattle-dealer of stralsund, the prince wrote to the council, asking it if they struck money of that description. at that very time schladenteuffel was going his business rounds. warning was given, and one morning, when he came back to the city with some cattle, he was apprehended and taken to prison, where his wife and five accomplices promptly joined him. among the latter there was one of the vicious sedition-mongers mentioned in the first part of my recollections, namely, nicholas knigge. he was, in reality, the leader of the gang; he furnished both the copper and the silver, and he found an outlet in sweden for sham silver, spoons, goblets, jugs, etc. dr. gentzkow, whose daughter he had married, had his sentence changed to one of lifelong banishment. bartholomew, although the people who came to arrest him were close upon his heels, managed to escape. in the semmlow strasse there lived a very rich merchant named c. middleburgh. his sordid avarice kept him away from church. on the other hand, he carried on an extensive and harmful traffic. he exported bogislaw schillings and other good coin; he also got hold of gold and silver pieces, and clipped those that appeared to him to be overweight. in spite of this, he did not benefit by his wealth. one day he took the rostock coach, but instead of coming down at midday to dine with the other travellers, he had a sleep. when the company returned and while the ostler put in the horses, he asked the price of the meal. he was told it was two schellings. "very well," he said; "i have earned two schellings by going to sleep." he was always ready to lend money on silver plate--of course at high interest. he lived and scraped money for many, many years. his widow continued his trafficking; she was, however, less cautious, and fell into the hands of scoundrels, who reduced her to beggary. to come back to middelburg. on october , , at two in the afternoon, he found himself in possession of a big cask containing twelve barrels of gunpowder of twenty-four pounds each; hence in all weighing two hundred and eighty-eight pounds. close to the cask there sat a young servant weaving some kind of woollen lace, and, as it was very cold, she had a small stove filled with charcoal under her feet. at that moment there appeared upon the scene old tacke and made a payment of a hundred bogislaw schellings, which, having been carefully counted by middelburg, were left on the table while he went to the stable for a moment. during his short absence, the servant stirs the incandescent charcoal, a spark of which falls on the floor and ignites the grains of powder; the house and the next to it are blown up; walls, beams, rafters come crashing down with a horrible noise. the city imagines that the end of the world has arrived. of the young girl herself they found a foot here, an arm there, a leg elsewhere, and fragments of flesh pretty well everywhere. it was never known what had become of the hundred schellings that were lying on the table or of the furniture. one servant-girl was dug out from the ruins without a hurt; she was more fortunate than the brother-in-law of the burgomaster of riga. they managed to drag him out by sawing some rafters beneath which he was buried, but he died of his wounds on the third day. two children, though stark dead when picked up, still held a slice of bread and butter in their tiny hands. three persons from the country, a mother and daughter and the latter's intended husband, who had stopped before the house to make some purchases for their new home, were killed outright on the spot. there were in all seven people killed. the neighbours brought an action against middelburg which he had to settle. even as far as the passen-strasse my father had the window of his entrance hall broken; the stove in one of the upper rooms cracked and could never be used again; a hook used for hanging the salmon to be smoked, and belonging to middelburg, was found in the gutter on our roof. the advice of some well-meaning people, and ever growing necessity caused me to make up my mind to practise as procurator at the aulic court of wolgast, though counsellor joachim moritz, who boarded with my uncle, tried to dissuade me. as a professor of law at greifswald, a jurisconsult of the court, and an assessor of the tribunal, he had had some close experience of the idiocy, the ignorance, and the underhand methods of my future colleagues. "_procuratorum officium vilissimum est_," he said to me. in fact, with the exception of dr. picht, the procurators were but little versed _in grammaticâ vel jure_. when their dean, who was a judge at brandenburg, and a mecklenburg counsellor, came up for his degree of _licenctiâ juris_ at rostock, he referred to an insolvent litigant, "_non est solvendus_," which provoked the repartee of the promoter: "_recte dicit dominus licentiandus, quia non est ligatus_." one day at rostock we happened to take our dinner at the same table with this procurator and the burgomaster of brandenburg who, however, was fairly well versed in the _grammatica_. the conversation turned on a witch who was in prison at brandenburg, and who professed to be pregnant by the devil. the burgomaster having put the question, "_quod diabolus cum muliere rem habere et impregnare eam posset?_" our licentiate replied without wincing: "_imo possibile est, nam diabolus furat semen a viribus et perfert ad mulieribus_." simon telchow, another procurator, for a long while master auditor at eldenow, and who was married to a damsel of noble birth, after having set up as a brewer at greifswald, had "to shut up" shop and come back to his pen. having contracted at court a taste for drink, he never went to bed without being "muddled." as a matter of course, he was not very matutinal. he, moreover, only practised _pro nudo procuratore_, and his clients had to provide themselves with an advocate. _in causis mandatorum_, when the _mandatarii_ eluded execution, telchow asked for an _arctiorem mandatum_. sworn procurators there were none in those days, and as the procedure in general was oral, any one endowed with the "gift of the gab" could present himself at the bar. since then things have changed to the glory of the prince and the advantage of litigants. the experience i had gained at spires was most useful to me in my new career. the judges, the chancellor, and the litigants themselves seemed to listen to me with pleasure; nay, this or that party who had not entrusted me with his cause, made me, nevertheless, accept his money, because he wished to retain my services, if the occasion required, or, at any rate, deprive his opponent of them. people came to fetch me from the country with chariot and horses to mediate between them. i was brought back in the same manner, and each time, besides the hard cash i received, i was laden with all kinds of provisions, hares, shoulders of mutton, haunches of venison or of wild boar, magnificent hams, quarters of bacon, butter, cheese, and eggs by the dozen, bundles upon bundles of flax. my reception at home may be easily imagined. there was no longer any risk of hearing the sad complaint, "mother, you did not advise me; you simply handed me over." peter thun, of schleminn, a violent-tempered man, and but too prompt to fire a shot or to draw the sword, was at constant loggerheads with his neighbour ber. they were joint owners of a nice pond. ber claimed the exclusive enjoyment of the half adjoining his estate, and which also happened to be the better stocked with fish. thun, on the other hand, maintained that the whole of the pond was joint property. ber having planted hemp along the common road, thun sent his cattle to graze there, and went himself on horseback so that his mount might trample the plant down. finally, a lot of peasants went under the personal command of thun to ber's windmill, and promptly sapped its foundations, so that it came down with a crash. naturally, the law is set in motion. thun is condemned to indemnify ber _constrictibus_; then comes an appeal to the imperial chamber, which upholds the first verdict with _executoriales cum refusione expensarum_; the total amounting to about nine hundred florins. puffed up with his success and purse-proud besides, ber applauded each scurvy trick his people played his enemy. thun, on the other hand, was not a man to be played with. one of ber's servants (in fact, his illegitimate son, a young, brazen and robust fellow), finally assailed thun. the latter stood his ground valiantly, but his affrighted wife seized his arm; the bastard's sword went right through him. thun's only heir was his nephew, a minor, the succession was most involved, and its liquidation cost me a great deal of trouble and a number of fatiguing journeys. my honorarium was fixed at twenty florins per annum. i only took ten from the minor, because i never returned from schleminn empty-handed. later on, his guardians made it up to me in presents of money and in kind; they provided for my building operations splendid oaks, which made magnificent joists. in sum, this affair yielded a good three hundred crowns to me. h. smeker, of wüstenfeld, was a character who ruined himself in litigation and in building. he left this or that structure which was ready to be roofed in to be spoilt by the rain or the snow, after which he had it completely razed to the ground. a mecklenburger named negendanck was, it would appear, one of his important creditors. to get his claim settled he employed a means rather common in his country. one night he arrived at wüstenfeld at the head of a troop of armed horsemen. smeker was asleep in his room, and his wife, who had just been brought to bed, lay in an adjoining closet. lievetzow, her brother, a handsome young fellow, had been accommodated with a room near the drawbridge. negendanck, swearing and bellowing, orders the bridge to be lowered. lievetzow, in his shirt, issues from his room and tries to appease him by informing him of the condition of his sister. negendanck replies with a shot which kills the defenceless and scantily-dressed stripling on the spot. then, taking the passage by storm, he gets as far as the invalid's room, lays his hand upon everything, shatters the silver chest, which he knew where to find, takes whatever he likes, and finally drags the body of her brother to the foot of the sister's bed. smeker, who had been awakened by the noise, had taken flight in his nightgown. knowing the moat to be fordable, he had crossed it with the water shoulders high, and after making for the stables, had taken refuge in a kind of bog inaccessible to the horsemen. negendanck took all the horses and cattle away with him. naturally, the imperial chamber was finally called upon to try the affair. a rule having been granted to prove his allegations, smeker came to greifswald to enlist my services. he was an old man with a grey head and short beard; a fluffy white gown with large pleats and black girdle reached to his feet. in short, the feathers pretty well indicated the nature of the bird. i had so often heard them call out at spires, "smoker _contra_ negendanck," "the duke heindrich of mecklenburg _contra_ heindrich smoker," as to make the name familiar to me. to my question if he was the identical smoker, he replied in a surly tone, "my name is smeker, not smoker." he produced a host of witnesses, many of whom lived in outlying regions of pomerania or mecklenburg; their hearing involved constant travelling. smeker would have never got out of the difficulty by himself, in consequence of his want of ready money. the moment he found himself in possession of some, he got hold of the horse of one of his peasantry as if to ride to the nearest village, and never drew rein until he got to spires. if, during his journey, the money ran short, he borrowed from people who all knew him and were sure of being repaid by his son mathias. not only did he pay nothing to his procurator, dr. schwartzenberg, but the latter had to feed him, to advance the chancellery fees, and to look to his return journey. mathias, on the other hand, was most open-handed. his secretary, who came to greifswald in order to watch the proceedings, lavished claret wine and tarts on the commissaries, and even sent some to my wife. each session was worth from between fifty to seventy crowns to me. that secretary appreciated my trouble like a true expert. said inquiry brought me about two hundred and fifty crowns. on the occasion of a suit before the imperial chamber, and in which little heindrich gained the day against big heindrich--that was the designation of smeker respectively of himself and his adversary--the duke of mecklenburg, the latter carried off all smeker's sheep. among the flock there was an old ram, accustomed to get a bit of bread at meal times from his master's hands. the animals either escaped, or perhaps the duke had them driven back to wüstenfeld. at any rate, the ram appeared at the head of the flock, its appetite sharpened by the march, and, moreover, fond of bread, ran towards the table. no sooner did smiterlow catch sight of it than he got up, doffed his hat, and bade it welcome. "what an agreeable surprise!" he exclaimed. "_bene veneritis!_ the soup of princes is not to thy taste, it appears, inasmuch as thou comest back already." but smeker caught at the chance of another lawsuit at spires which brought me twenty crowns. his son and his son-in-law, who did their best to save the considerable paternal fortune, hit upon the idea to credit the suzerain, duke heindrich, with the intention of retiring the fiefs. starting from that gratuitous supposition, they pointed out to the old man that the journeys to spires became more and more difficult to him; that, moreover, he incurred the risk of being dispossessed, and that, in such a case, his son would have the greatest possible trouble to be reinstated. what, on the other hand, could be more simple than the averting of the blow by a pretended renunciation in favour of mathias? he, the father, would take up his quarters for some time in a house close by, which he liked very much; he should always come and take his meals with his sons, or merely eat and drink there when he liked; they would give him a young, nice and bright peasant girl to take care of him, for in spite of his age he refused to dispense with female company. heindrich smeker, having been prevailed upon, signed an act duly engrossed on vellum, which the principal county gentlemen of mecklenburg attested with their seals, and to which duke heindrich promptly affixed his ratification. when the old man's eyes opened to the deception it was too late. he was furious, and accused his son of having enacted the traitor to him, calling him all kind of names. then he begged of me to bring the affair before the imperial chamber, but i had an excellent excuse for refusing, as i was only a notary. his robust constitution enabled him to make another journey to spires--on a cart-horse as usual. having been politely bowed out by dr. schwartzenberg, he simply wasted his breath with the other procurators--all of whom knew him. finally, schwartzenberg gave him the money to go home. like a dutiful son, mathias loyally kept his promise and showed his father every attention and consideration. he invited his father to his table or had his meals taken to him. he sent him beer and wine, and there was always a capital bed at his disposal when the fancy took him to lay at his former domicile. it was the sweetest existence imaginable, but the administration of his property was denied to him. the worshipful council of rostock having been cited before the imperial chamber by the kindred of an individual named von der lühe, who had been beheaded for highway robbery, the commissaries entrusted with the case took me as their notary in the inquiry made at rostock, and as delegate notary in the inquiry set on foot by the plaintiffs. the _attestationes_ and the _sententia definitiva_ conclusively proved my assiduity in the matter; hence my honorarium amounted to four hundred crowns, _plus_ a present in silver worth fifty crowns. the counsellor anthony drache, a most pious gentleman, had only one brother who was drowned and left no issue. drache pretended to reduce the widow's share, in accordance with the feudal laws of pomerania; but besides his fiefs or hereditary tenures of land, the deceased possessed considerable property, the dividing of which was to be effected according to the urban or local statutes. duke philip, of blessed memory, having carried the affair into court, the trustee of the widow confided the case to me. i worked it up very conscientiously, assisted as i was by my particular studies, by the courses i had followed of joachim moritz and other professors at greifswald, and finally by my private consultations with moritz, who was good enough to give me his directions _in specie_. i had a verdict on all counts, though dr. gentzkow was on the other side, which, moreover, could count on the sympathy of the judges and even of the prince. this success had the effect of spreading my name throughout the land, and it prompted dr. gentzkow to propose my appointment as secretary to the council of stralsund. my client gave me twenty crowns, a quantity of butter and a flitch of bacon. chancellor citzewitz took me with him to stettin, and afterwards to stargardt to assist him in a personal lawsuit. there was no question of honorarium, for we were both of opinion that his kindness to me warranted such gratuitous service. in the owstin family had a lengthy lawsuit with reference to a village which citzewitz finally took away from them. in my capacity of notary to the owstins, i received forty crowns for my work. when valentin von eichstadt, the new chancellor, married his daughter to an owstin, he bore his predecessor a grudge for his success in the matter. meanwhile, the grand marshal of the court of wolgast, ulrich schwerin, became involved in litigation with dr. b. vom walde; the latter and citzewitz took sides against schwerin and eichstadt, and each tried to harm the other as much as possible. duke ernest louis intervened. the report of his displeasure was maliciously exaggerated. in a fit of despair citzewitz stabbed himself to death. j. vom kalen, at that time high bailiff of rügen (although he could neither read nor write), had sentenced an individual for having caught a small fish in the stream flowing past his garden. the angler appealed against the sentence, probably at the instigation of expert people, wishing to do the bailiff a good turn. the latter had entrusted the affair to me, merely saying that when i got to wolgast i should get to know what it was "all about"; but when i presented myself and obtained communication of the documents, i declined to move in the matter. i nevertheless considered myself entitled to the three crowns i had received as a deposit; besides, they were not claimed. the city of pasewalk had to stand the brunt of a man named fürstenberg, who, because matters did not always proceed according to his wishes, had renounced his citizenship. not satisfied with that, he one night nailed to the post before the city gates a placard threatening to set fire to the place. he was almost as good as his word, for he set fire to several barns outside the walls. he was arrested at lebus, and confined in the tower of the castle. the duke chose me to assist the two counsellors entrusted with the prosecution by the authorities of pasewalk. the prisoner was put to the rack in our presence, judged the next day, and beheaded by the sword. to our great surprise the council allowed us to depart without offering the smallest present. on the other hand, the duke sent to my home two measures of rye, worth at that time about ten florins. holste, the governor of the convent of puddegla, an eccentric and even dangerous young man, came to greifswald to entrust me with his law affairs. he promised to remunerate me largely, and as an earnest gave me ten crowns. shortly afterwards he had a difference with the duke, who had him confined to his quarters, but i succeeded in settling the affair to the satisfaction of both. my client was short of money for the time being, but the convent of puddegla is situated on the banks of a beautiful lake teeming with fish (as a rule monks are not in the habit of choosing the worst spots). there was an abundance of enormous cray-fish, of various kinds of perch, of breams an ell long, of fat eels, of carp as black as soot and having only one eye, the fat and flesh having closed the other; they were indeed fit for a king's table. holste filled my conveyance with victuals of that description, and i was glad to cry quits with him for some time to come. it was well i felt so disposed, for in a short time he got another affair on his hands. at first he thought that the advice of his maternal uncle george vom kalen, and three captains from rügen would be sufficient to settle matters, and as a matter of course he invited them to his small property at wusterhausen, where he filled them with food and drink night and day. it was all in vain; their brain refused to suggest a way out of the difficulty except that he should send for me, which recommendation he followed. i drew up a humble petition to the duke. as i intended to leave early the next morning, holste gave me six crowns, for the liquor that was in him already rendered him more generous than usual and than there was any occasion, considering the state of his revenues. the gentlemen caroused till deep into the night, for long after i had retired i was awakened by george vom kalen steadying himself by grasping my pillow. he came to propose to me to transact his law business for the future. as i was by no means anxious for that practice, i declined, though in most guarded terms. notwithstanding this refusal, my interlocutor drew three crowns from his wallet, and slipped them into my purse, which he took from under my pillow. his two companions follow his example, and present me each with two crowns. in vain do i point out to them that i cannot accept what i have not earned, and i take the seven coins from my purse to hand them back. thereupon george vom kalen tells me plainly that if i persist in refusing this money, he will flay me alive as i am lying there. knowing the people with whom i had to deal, i deemed it more prudent to listen no longer to my scruples. the company resumed their drinking, and by the time i was back at greifswald with my thirteen crowns in my pocket, they were probably still snoring stretched under the table. a small farmer had got his step-daughter with child. when the truth leaked out, the girl's mother moved heaven and earth to shield her husband from the death penalty by flight. as for her daughter, her only child, to fling her upon the world in that condition was exposing her to disgrace, to starvation, and perhaps to everlasting punishment. at the request of some friends, i personally went to wolgast and presented a petition to be handed immediately to the prince. after considerable waiting, i saw him come out of his apartment. "why does this woman speak of her daughter and not of her husband?" he asked. "because he has taken flight," i answered; "besides, considering the heinousness of the crime, she is afraid that to mention him will not avail much." "you lawyers," retorted his highness, "you have a way of presenting things, of polishing and whitening the most atrocious and blackest horrors. it really requires some experience to determine whether your petitions are compatible either with law, equity, or religion. i am bound to remember that god has entrusted me with the punishment of gross and impious excesses. i shall not decide upon this case to-day, but think it over." these are the words of a just, but nevertheless merciful prince, and the petitioner had the proof of it. michael hovisch, the son of poor peasants, had been brought up from his earliest years in town, put to school, and then into a business establishment. he succeeded in gaining the confidence of his employers, who sent him to sweden and denmark. gradually he began to operate on his own account. modest in behaviour, neat, and even elegant in appearance, he could aspire to a good match. meanwhile captain dechow took it into his head to claim him for gratuitous and enforced seignorial labour. an old ducal farm had to be rebuilt. in vain did hovisch offer a considerable sum instead. dechow resolved to constrain him by imprisonment. he was a relentless despot, who tried to make himself conspicuous by oppressing the peasantry and, wherever it could be done, also the urban populations. hovisch was compelled to take flight. at the request of some personages whom i was anxious to oblige, and being moreover strongly interested in the young fellow himself, i personally presented to duke philip a petition in which the vexatious proceedings of the captain were set forth at length. i defy people to guess the prince's reply. here it is: "that my subjects load thee with butter, eggs, cheese, poultry, geese, sheep and the rest, is all very well, nay, perfect in its way," he said. "take my word for it, though," he went on, "that i can manage to govern them rightly enough with the assistance of my captain without your meddling." i told citzewitz plainly that if the oppressed were thus deprived of their right of humble petition there was "no saying" how things would end. "dechow," remarked citzewitz, "is an arbitrary, hasty brute, but he has managed to ingratiate himself with the duke. fortunately, his highness has been warned. i'll recur to the subject when i get an opportunity; there must be a change." dechow left wolgast for lubeck, where the people soon got tired of him. michael hovisch was never again heard of. it was the last time i took it into my head to present a petition, and especially to wait for its answer. to sum up, in the space of two years, the occupation of procurator, and, above all, of notary, brought me eleven hundred and four and twenty crowns in hard cash. _magister_ j. schoenefeld acted as notary in four cases before the court presided over by dr. von walde. duke philip was the plaintiff. as it happened, schoenefeld was too old to proceed energetically; the going from "pillar to post" frightened him; besides, people had become more exacting. he therefore decided upon handing his documents over to me, and they contained several interesting items. the prince, for instance, summoned lutke maltzan to prove his right to the fiefs of sarow, gantzkendorf, and carin. maltzan declined, pleading prescription in virtue of thirty years' possession. the fiefs in question had belonged to jacob voss, nephew and ward of berendt maltzan, surnamed "the bad." (berckmann and other historians amply explain the reasons for the sobriquet.) the uncle having advanced two hundred or three hundred florins on the lands of his nephew, persuaded the latter to go to the war with a couple or so of horses. he made sure of never beholding him again. jacob voss, a model of honour and courage, distinguished himself in many a campaign, and the esteem in which he was held by all enabled him to borrow the necessary sum to redeem the paternal property. he gave notice to berendt maltzan of his intention to refund the money at the new year, and at the appointed time he arrived at his uncle's--a fortified domicile, most appropriate to his brigandage, rapine and exactions. for several days maltzan loaded him with kindness, they drank together, played cards and diced; in short, honest jacob voss, instead of redeeming his lands, lost the borrowed money. his despair and his thirst for vengeance prompted him to extreme measures, and with a servant expressly engaged for the purpose, he several times set fire to his former possessions. thereupon his uncle enjoined his tenants to proceed to his nephew's capture. one sunday voss and his companion having fallen asleep in the wood near gantzkendorf, which they intended to burn down that night, were discovered by a little dog of some peasants gathering nuts; and not later than the monday following berendt maltzan had the son of his sister "racked" alive. during the journey jacob voss apostrophized the tenants at labour by their names. "johannes, peter, nicholas," he exclaimed, "can you understand this horrible and ignominious death for claiming my own property?" to come back to the suit of the prince against maltzan. the judge sent the document to the faculty of law at leipzig, which asked an honorarium of forty crowns. its decision, the seal of which was broken in the presence of the parties as represented by their counsel and read there and then, concluded in favour of maltzan, to the great vexation of the ducal advisers, chancellor citzewitz severely reprimanding dr. von walde for not having opened the reply in order to amend it. an appeal was entered at the imperial chamber, and the case only ended several years after my establishment at stralsund. the parties paid me more than one thousand crowns. towards a dane said to christopher von der lanckin, of rügen, that the willow bow-nets for the catching of fish in the danish fashion would be more profitable to him than two big houses he had at stralsund. in fact from the time two of those contrivances arrived, christopher, who had been very hampered in money matters, settled his debts very quickly. struck with the result, two notable burghers of stralsund, namely councillor conrad oseborn and olof lorbeer, the son of the burgomaster, went into partnership with some of their kindred, and promptly exploited the invention. the new nets, though, in consequence of their size, obstructed the entrance to the streams; the fish no longer passed, and it meant ruin to the inhabitants of the interior. there were protests on all sides. duke philip wrote to stralsund; the council replied ironically that fish not being taken by hand, everybody was free to ply for it as he liked. an inquiry was set on foot, the prince prohibited the big bow-nets, and had those belonging to lorbeer seized. thereupon the whole gang began to shout that the liberties of the city were in peril, a galley was fitted out to guard the nets, and finally, stralsund resorted to law. if, in taking the succession of schoenefeld, i had suspected my countrymen of being so unreasonable as they were in this instance, i should certainly have declined the brief, albeit that my presence counterbalanced the hostility of the inquiring magistrate. in his examination c. von der lanckin stated loyally that from his point of view, the danish bow-nets were excellent, inasmuch as they had enabled him to pay his debts, but that on his faith and honour of a gentleman the new contrivance would ruin the country. the deposition of the fishermen was very clear: "whosoever will rid us of those nets will no longer need to go to church or to say paters. we ask for nothing else from heaven from morn till night." in spite of everything, stralsund persisted in its wrong. finally, on the opinion of counsel and the verdict of september , , the duke gained his cause, and the city was condemned in costs. on the spur of the moment the council wanted to lodge an appeal, but it thought the better of it. the suit had lasted twelve years, and had bred between the two parties a feeling of misunderstanding which only vanished with the death of the prince. as there had been two hundred and fifty witnesses, the six hundred crowns i received in fees was, i take it, not an excessive remuneration. chapter iii the greifswald council appoints me the city's secretary--delicate mission to stralsund--burgomaster christopher lorbeer and his sons--journey to bergen--i settle at stralsund the greifswald magistrates, who had the opportunity of seeing me daily at work, gradually arrived at the conclusion that i could not be altogether devoid of merit, considering that highly placed personages and even the prince himself entrusted me with important affairs. schoenefeld, being no longer up to the standard required, they offered me his charge on the condition of my completely relinquishing my practice as procurator. in consequence of this, on december , , i was appointed secretary to the city of greifswald. [illustration: view of stralsund. _from an old print_.] the first burgomaster of stralsund, christopher lorbeer, had two sons, who spent their time in the chase, in the taverns, and at the brilliant receptions of the nobility and of the opulent burgher class. they took it for granted that they might do anything they liked, and operated with dogs and nets on greifswald territory. it so happened, though, that several young nobles and rich burghers of the latter town had excellent packs of hounds, and were, in consequence, often invited by the prince. as a matter of course, they objected to this poaching on the part of the lorbeers. one day the two parties came face to face, and the attitude of the greifswald people caused the others to face about and to abandon their nets. as a balm to their wounded pride, the lorbeers, lying in ambush at the inn at testenhagen, assailed pistol in hand a carter from greifswald, maltreated him, and finally carried off his best horse. the greifswald council wrote to stralsund in the most measured terms, as ought to be done among neighbours. the reply was supercilious, and couched in most intemperate terms. i was, therefore, instructed to draw up an appeal to the duke. the moment was unquestionably exceedingly well chosen, considering the behaviour of stralsund in the matter of the bow-nets. and although the reports of that lawsuit were as yet not published, i was familiar with them, and had no difficulty in conceiving the irritation of the prince against the lorbeers. i nevertheless disadvised having recourse to his intervention; i deemed it more prudent to go to stralsund and discuss the matter. the moment i had presented my credentials the stralsund council met in solemn assembly. one of them received me most graciously, and introduced me. burgomaster lorbeer's polite anxiety to make room for me on the bench of the council showed to me his secret hope of seeing me betray the interests of my clients, and of metaphorically falling at his feet. after the usual civilities, i pointed out to the meeting the seriousness of the case, going fully into the facts in a firm and perhaps somewhat plain language, reminding them of the imperial "orders" with regard to the preservation of the public peace. nor did i scruple to represent, as a good neighbour ought to have done, the danger of obstinacy, above all with a prince who was already more or less displeased. i could read the exoneration for this bold speech on many a countenance, but christopher lorbeer and his staunch adherents, who were not accustomed to hear the truth to their faces, turned colour; their hitherto affable looks changed into scowls, and the burgomaster, beside himself with anger, rose and said: "thou art too eager to break thy first lance. i beg to submit that this man be strictly watched." "and clapped into gaol if necessary," i retorted. thereupon lorbeer walked out, and i was dismissed without being reconducted as i had been introduced. in a little while, word was sent that the affair requiring further examination, the answer would be communicated later on. a couple of hours afterwards dr. gentzkow, the syndic, sent for me to come to the st. nicholas' church. "i am obliged to admit," he said, "that your language was justified in law as in fact, but master christopher has taken mortal offence at it, inasmuch as he is not accustomed to have people adopt this tone with him, or to hear himself and his sons taxed with disturbing the public peace. he can do you a great deal of good or a great deal of harm. his influence, both in the city and in the country, is immense. in short, if the council have rightly interpreted your message, the greifswald folk desire to terminate this affair in a friendly manner; very well, let us appoint a day at reinberg to arrange matters as good neighbours should. i am asking you for your best endeavours to bring this about." the stralsund people made their preparations for the day in question by slaughtering a great many birds and game, by roasting and boiling the same, and by broaching casks upon casks of beer and wine. besides the principal burghers of the city related to them by blood and in thorough sympathy, the lorbeers invited their friends from the neighbourhood, and their young boon companions, who appeared armed with pistols, arquebuses and spikes, so that the gathering looked more like a call to arms than like a friendly meeting. consequently, some of the councillors and citizens of stralsund secretly warned the people of greifswald to send no one to the spot, and my father was particularly cautioned not to let me go, for that i should surely be killed. the greifswald magistrates remained coy, and did not reply a word to the invitation; then, at the very hour of the invasion of reinberg by the lorbeer band, they wrote that if the horse were returned to them in three days they would return the nets sequestrated in just reprisal. if this were not done, the prince would be requested to dispense justice. at the news of greifswald's abstention from the quasi-festivities the lorbeer camp broke into an avalanche of imprecations and threats. wound up with drink, they swore that they would murder everybody. nevertheless, before the three days had expired, a stable-man brought back the horse, receiving in return the nets; and so there was an end of that disagreement. there was a time when "milord" burgomaster christopher lorbeer did pretty well as he liked with everybody without meeting with any resistance, and as a matter of course, his wife and children followed suit. odd to relate, my mission was coincident with the heyday of his fortune, and it was really owing to a few simple words from my lips that his star suddenly waned. he did not mind being treated as ungodly, and as a soul likely to incur eternal punishment, and when i say this i am speaking on the authority of his eldest son, but he objected to being accused of endangering the public peace, or, in other words, to forfeiting his honour; it is that which put him beside himself. his annoyance at having failed in his contemplated revenge against greifswald and against me seriously undermined his health. a most painful illness confined him to his bed for six months, during which no one was allowed to see him. it seemed a terrible retribution which profoundly moved both the city and the country. the burgomaster's victims raised their voices, and the exactions by which he had hitherto kept up his grand style of living were at an end. when his wife attempted to revictual the establishment as of old, she met with refusals. a grain dealer to whom she had sent her pigs to fatten brought them back to her, pretending "hard times." she was beginning to "ride the high horse" with him, but he pointed to the room of the burgomaster, saying: "don't forget that 'i command you' is lying there." after a protracted agony, which practically reduced him to the condition of a mere animal, christopher lorbeer died on october , , and was buried in the choir of the st. nicholas' church, by the side of my mother and my two sisters, and under the same flagstone where my father subsequently lay. the council, greatly affected by his death, let three weeks pass before naming a successor to the deceased; after which the syndic, n. gentzkow, and the first secretary, anthony lickow, were solemnly and joyously elected to the dignity. though as yet my emoluments were not fixed, the greifswald council had already given me several proofs of its high confidence. at stralsund, on the other hand, i was the constant butt of the violent enmity of the most notable citizens, who would have rent me to pieces if they had got hold of me. stralsund being thus closed to me, no place was more suitable as a residence than greifswald, where i was born and had many of my kindred. but the owner of the house i rented made me very uncomfortable with his mania for transforming the dwelling into a storehouse for the most lumbering material, such as wood, stone, mortar, sand, etc.; he also used the place for the weddings of his servants, without the least regard for my wife, whether she was sick or in childbed. all our objections were met with the same answer: "if you do not like it you had better move." hence, i finally made the acquisition of a house in the fischhandler strasse (fishmonger street), belonging to johannes velschow, the father-in-law of brand hartmann. its price was three hundred and fifty florins, payable in four quarterly instalments. brand hartmann was the son of that george hartmann with whom my father had had such grave differences. he felt very wroth at seeing the house his father had built for his use pass into my possession, but the sale was effected in due legal form. i had given the deposit (god's pfenning) and put down the first hundred florins in the presence of several councillors and notable burghers. masons and carpenters were set to work at once. the front door had to be widened, the heavy roof to be strengthened, the rooms, stables, cellar and yard to be overhauled. my father had had a great deal of building done in his days and gained much experience. he came to superintend matters. now and again he somewhat bullied the workmen, and even dismissed them, replacing them by others. looking back on all this, i cannot help wondering at my audacity, for my purse was practically empty, and the workmen had to be paid on saturdays. with god's help my practice provided the necessary money every week. my profession took me away from home a great deal; hence, there was some delay in the building operations, but for every florin i lost in that way, i earned ten and more elsewhere. on september , , duke philip, with a numerous suite stopped at stralsund for the night and was entertained by the council. he was going to bergen, in the island of rügen, where he stayed until october , and at his return he lay once more at stralsund, equally at the expense of the city. the aim of the journey was to check the encroachments of the jasmund nobility, which, not content with cutting down the forest of stubenitz for its own benefit, conceded the same rights to others--for a consideration. the prince took me with him as secretary. the aristocracy having proposed a friendly settlement, there was much parleying, during which the duke was at a loss to kill time. he was lodged in the apartments of the prior at the monastery of bergen, and which looked out upon the courtyard, and spent hours in watching from his windows the pages and valets and their constant bickerings, quarrels and fights. he could even hear their opinions of him. one day, when standing in his usual coign of vantage while four polish violins performed several pieces of music in the room itself, he heard a valet below saying to his fellow, "the people of stralsund have much better musicians than their prince. what he has got is simply ridiculous. duke bogislaw keeps four trumpeters and a kettledrum player; they, at any rate, produce some effect. but this prince up there, with his caterwauling things, is absurd." the duke sent prior gottschalck to ascertain who was talking in that strain, but gottschalck, having noticed a relative of his in the group, made them a sign to be off, and went upstairs, saying that they had been too quick for him, and that he had failed to recognize any one. the prince promptly repeated to his familiars word for word what he had heard on the art of keeping up his rank, and long afterwards he was fond of reminding them of the incident. another anecdote: a lot of boys were noisily playing in the courtyard, and one of the most turbulent was the illegitimate son of the bailiff (his real father having sent him to school, though he bore the name of his putative parent, arndts, the tailor of bergen). his highness having given order to drive the yelling beggars away and to box their ears if necessary, the footmen executed his orders to the letter, right and left. the prince noticed, though, that they spared arndts, and he shouted that he more than any of the others deserved correction, but the servant to whom the recommendation was addressed simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "do you hear me?" cried the duke; "rub it into the little devil." "oh, no," replied the flunkey. "oh, yes, lay it on thickly." "nay, nay; heaven preserve me from doing such a thing." "and why, what's to prevent you?" "what? to trounce the son of a bailiff! i should repent it afterwards." at these words the duke burst out laughing. he told the story to every one, even in the bailiff's presence. on one occasion the boy was sent for and placed by the side of his father. his eyes, his nose, his head and his legs were compared with those of his sire. the governor of cammin, after having made the lad march up and down the room, said to the bailiff, "that's your son, right enough; he is shaped like you." the attempt at conciliation having failed, the parties met at the monastery in a large room provided with chairs, seats and two tables, one for his highness, the other for the _pares curiae_. i took place at the latter in my capacity of _notarius judicii_. the chancellor, in his master's name, gave a summary of the facts, after which, the prince, rising from his seat, came to the second table, and there, facing me, he made a long speech, not at all badly composed. i only give its conclusion: "in your presence, master notary, i maintain having been animated by most friendly intentions towards my subjects, but they rejected all attempts at settling matters. in consequence of this, and as a guarantee of my rights, i command you to state everything that has happened, including the present declaration, and to draw up a duly attested act which you shall remit to me in consideration of your lawful remuneration." the matter did not go farther that day, but the duke instructed me to pursue the inquiry jointly with the governor of cammin, which took us several days. the "instrument" gave me a great deal of trouble, filling, as it did, seven of the largest skins of parchment, constituting fourteen sheets. it contained more matter than a quire of paper. there was no room to affix my signature and the _signum notariatus_ at the end of the deed, according to custom, so i made an impression in wax of my seal engraved on lead, and suspended it from the string holding the sheets together. his highness, without asking, gave me a fee of thirty crowns. _magister_ joachim moritz, _professor juris_ at greifswald and ducal counsellor, had never been to stralsund, and knew nobody there. at my return from bergen he asked me to "put him up" at my father's, which i was very glad to do. having risen early to see the city, he went shortly after seven into st. nicholas' to hear the sermon. zabel lorbeer, who caught sight of him, mistook him for his former boon companion, george steinkeller. the likeness between these two seems to have been so striking as to have deceived people generally. many a gentleman upon beholding moritz on the bench at wolgast, said to his neighbour, "and where the devil did steinkeller get his knowledge of the law from, to constitute him a judge?" lorbeer, then, coming from behind, takes moritz by the ears and shakes him for full a minute, the professor, altogether nonplussed, asking himself all the while who it could be giving him such an energetic welcome. he made sure it was me. finally, he managed to turn round, and lorbeer, perceiving his mistake, was most profuse with apologies. moritz was fond of relating the adventure, especially in the hearing of the stralsunders, and no one enjoyed the story more than the duke. the stralsund council took the opportunity of my visit (which happened during the very week of burgomaster lorbeer's funeral), to offer me the position of secretary. my surprise may easily be imagined. i considered myself so compromised in the eyes of the stralsunders that, without the company of the governor of cammin and the commission i held of the prince, i should not have deemed myself safe in the city. those overtures, though, caused me as much pleasure as they did to my kindred; nevertheless, i felt bound not to give a definite answer until i was relieved of my engagement at greifswald, although i had not taken the oath. being anxious to hasten my return, the stralsund council sent me a messenger to greifswald with a saddle-horse. i pointed out to my friends and to the magistrates at greifswald that, although i had to a certain extent begun my functions, there had as yet been no positive agreement; not a syllable had been uttered, for instance, about salary. why then should i decline the important stralsund appointment? my uncle and godfather, burgomaster bertram smiterlow, summoned the council to the chancellerie, and a fixed salary of eighty florins was allotted to me. never had a secretary been so well paid. i asked to let the matter stand over till the next morning, so that i might consult with my family. my wife's relatives implored me to accept; my father-in-law, a centenarian, promised me, with tears in his eyes, a hundred florins if i stayed. at the instance of all these, i declared myself ready to receive the luck-penny (the earnest-money) commensurate with the dignity of the office and of the council, it being, furthermore, understood that i should be allowed to remain at the chancellerie and not be elected to the council. the _camerarii_ counted me out eight crowns as earnest-money, and my predecessor, johannes schoenefeld, sent me word to engross my own act of appointment. more than one precedent justified me in expecting about a year's salary as earnest-money, but after some hesitation i took the eight crowns. my father-in-law was anxiously waiting for the result of the interview. i flung the money on the table. "just look, father," i exclaimed, "did i not sell myself at my worth? you had better get your hundred florins ready." but he had apparently recovered from his first depression, and seemed not at all touched by my obvious sacrifice, for he said tetchily, "if it suits you to go, very well, go; but you'll not have one florin as far as i am concerned." i felt hurt, although i fully intended to refuse the hundred florins, lest my brother-in-law should look askance at me. i put the stralsund horse up in burgomaster smiterlow's stable, my own not being ready. my first impulse was to send it back the same day. then i began to reflect that it would be better to draw up my "act of appointment"; after that, the letter to the stralsund council would not take long. in drawing up the act, i could, however, not help noticing that neither the period nor the place of payment was stated, and next morning i went to ask schoenefeld about all this. he told me that i should receive two florins one day from this person, and half a florin the next from another, so that at the end of the year the eighty florins would be complete. i certainly did congratulate myself for having kept a back door open, for the misunderstanding was very serious, casual instalments and fixed appointments being by no means the same thing. after leaving schoenefeld, i ran against burgomaster smiterlow and the _camerarii_ in the market-place, and told them that if schoenefeld's version was true, i preferred returning the wretched earnest-money. "your conduct will surprise them," they replied. "to summon the council at such a short notice is no more possible than to take back the earnest-money without its leave." i, on the other hand, maintained that it was yet time to arrange affairs. "should i be deserving of the magistrates' confidence if i were so incapable of conducting my own affairs? i am going to the burgomaster at once to deposit the earnest-money on his daughter's table. she'll know right enough to whom to hand it. after which i shall get into the saddle and take the road to stralsund." thereupon the council was summoned. i went to tell my wife, her brother, and my sister whom he had married. my wife, not satisfied with shedding tears, declared categorically that she should not leave greifswald. she would take a room somewhere and earn her living knitting. my sister and her husband were also much excited. "what shall you do with your nice house?" said my sister. "why vex our parents? stop here out of consideration for them; here where there are so many opportunities of being useful to them." an old aunt, a sensible, upright and honest matron whom my wife had called to her aid was the only one to express a contrary opinion. "dear nephew," she said, "though i should be too pleased to keep you near me, for after god you are the prop of my old age, i'm bound to admit that there is no comparison between the post of greifswald and that of stralsund. if i placed an obstacle to your stroke of good fortune, my conscience would reproach me afterwards, so take my advice and carry out your plan. do you remember how your wife mourned her mother? does she still cry at the mention of her name? well, she'll get just as used to living at stralsund." my wife's tears flowed all the faster at these words. the messenger from stralsund went to saddle my horse. booted and spurred i joined him almost immediately, and had the animal brought round to burgomaster smiterlow's door where, somewhat impatiently, i awaited on the steps his return from the town hall. he told me that no secretary in the past had received the appointments allotted to me, and that no secretary in the future was likely to receive them, and yet i had still found better; hence the council felt most reluctant to hamper my career and sent their best wishes for my welfare. i immediately got into the saddle and left the town, avoiding our house, on the threshold of which i could see my wife standing surrounded by her kindred. it was on november , . my residence at greifswald dated from january , . during that period my earnings amounted to five thousand three hundred florins, exclusive of presents in kind, which often exceeded the strictly necessary. here ends the third part of the story of my life. the end index aarschot, acquapendente, xx. , , aepinus, johannes, , affenstein, ritter wolf von, agricola, johannes, aix-la-chapelle, , , albrecht, duke of mecklenburg, , , , , , alexander iii., algau, , alpinus, johannes, alsace, alsen, island of, altenkirchen, altenkuke, heinrich, altingk, johannes, , werner, alva, duke of, , amandus, dr. johannes, xv., ammeister, amsterdam, anclam, ancona, xx. , anelam, anglus, dr. antonius, anhault, xii. _annales pomeraniae_, , , antwerp, xxiii. , , , _appeal to the christian nobility_, xi. arndts, , arnsburg, arras, bishop of, , , , , , ascagne, count st. florian, artopaeus, herr petrus, augsburg, xiii., xxii., , , , , , - , , - , , , , , , bishop of, augustus, duke, babylonish captivity, the, xi. baden, , margrave of, xix. , badenweiler, balhorn, bamberg, , barbarossa, baremann, nicholas, barns, xx. barnes, , , barth, basle, xxiii., , bavaria, duke albert of, , , duchess of, becker, peter, belbuck, , benter, ber, berckmann, johannes, , , , , , , , , bergen, , berkentin, berlin, , bensançon, besserer, george, beuter, biberach, _bilder aus der deutschen kulturgeschichte_, bischof, bitterfeld, , blumenow, johannes, , , , bole, victor, bogislaw x., duke, , , , , , duke barnim, , , , , , , , , , , , , , duke george, , , , , boineburg, ritter conrad von, bois le duc, boldewan, abbot, , bologna, , , , , , , bolte, nicholas, bonus, herrman, bonnus, botzen, , brabant, brandenburg, xxiii., , , , , culmbach, elector of, , , , , wachim of, xiii., xxiii. brandenburg-the-old, brassanus, matthias, , bremen, christopher, bishop of, brenner, xx. brettheim, brixen, , broecker, jacob, bruchsall, brunswick, duke henry of, , , , duke philip of, brunswick-luneberg, xii. bruser, hermann, , , , , bruser, leveling, bruser, mrs. xviii., xix. brussels, xxiii., , , , , , buchow, bartholomäi, buchow, heindrich, bugenhagen, johannes, bukow, bunsaw, gaspard, , , bunsow, dame, bunsow, johannes, , burgrave of mesnia, burenius arnoldus, xvii., burn, count maximilian, burnet, bishop, x. burtenbach, captain schaerthin von, burwitz, joachim, buss, valentine, butzbach, , , calvin, , camerarius, cammin, , , , , bishop of, , , , cannstadt, capito daniel, carin, carlowitz, christopher, , , , , , carmelites, cassel, cassules, castle of st. angelo, cellini, benvenuto, xx. charlemagne, , charles v., xii., xiii., xxii., , , , , , , , , citzewitz, jacob, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , citzewitz, james, xxii. classen, bernard, , clerike, jacob, cleves, anne of, cleves, duchy of, , duke of, , coburg, , colburg, , cologne, , , elector of, compestella, constance, copenhagen, , _cosmographie_, munster's, , damitz, captain moritz, , , , , danquart, dantzig, , , _de anima_, xvii. dechow, captain, , denmark, king of, deux fonts, prince, devonne, dialectica caesarii, dick, dr. leopold, düren, dinnies, laurence, domitz, maurice, donat, donauwerth, , dorpat, bishop of, drache, anthony, droege, gerard, , duitz, gaspard, , , eck, dr., , eger, eichstedt, valentin, , bishop of, einfriedlaw, eisleben, , elbe, , eldenow, _emek habakha_, engelhardt, dr. simeon, , , , , , , , , , engeln, _epitome annalium pomerania_, erasmus, desiderius, erckhorst, cyriacus, , erfurt, ernest, margrave, , , , esslingen, faber, fachs, dr., falck, chancellor, falcke, dr., falsterbo, , farnese, peter aloys, _fasti_, ovid's, ferrara, , ferdinand, king, , , , , , , florence, franconia, frankfurt, , , , , , , , frederick, iii., duke, xxii., , , frederick, king of denmark, , freder, johannes, _freedom of a christian man_, xi. frese, widow, friesland, fribourg, , , friedrich, johannes, , frobose, peter, , , frock, otto, froment, frubose, matthew, furstenburg, count wilhelm, , frederick von, , gadebusch, gantzkendorf, , garpenhagen, gatzkow, abraham, gelhaar, joachim, , , geneva, , gentzkow, dr. nicholas, , , , , , , burgomaster nicholas, ghent, charles of, goeslin, margaret, gotha, gottschalk, heinrich, johannes, , , , , prior, _grammatica bonni_, granvelle, cardinal, xxiii. nicholas, perremot de, , , , , greiffenberg, greifswald, xi. xvii., xix., xxiv., , - , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , - grellen, barber, gribou, grosse, alexis, gruwel, peter, , gruyère, count michael de, grynaeus, simon, , guelderland, gutzkow, count, , hahn, werner, , halle, xxii., , hamburg, , , hannemann, hartmann, brand, george, , , , , hase, dr. heinrich, , hausen, erasmus, , hawthorne, xx. heidelberg, , , elector of, heidelsheim, heimsdorff, heindrich, duke, , heinrichmann, dr., helfmann, johannes, henry ii. of france, xiv. henry viii., hentzer, heine vogel, hertogenbosch, herwig, christian, hesiod, hesse, philip of, xii. hildebrand, nicholas, hirnheim, johannes walther von, hochberg, hochel, dr. johannes, holde, dr. conrad, holme, johannes, holste, , holstein, duke christian, , , homedes, jean de, horns, the family of, , hose, dr. christopher, , , hovisch, michael, , hoyer, dr. gaspard, , , , , , , hundfruck, hutten, ulrich, von, ingoldstadt, innspruck, _itinerarium germanicae_, juliers, duke of, , kalen, george von, kalen, j. von, kalte, johannes, kantzow, thomas, kasskow, master, kempe, george, kempten, , , , ketelhot, christian, xvi., , , , , _king arthur_, kirchschwarz, kismann, klatteville, peter, , kloche, johannes, , krugge, nicholas, , knipstrow, dr. xxii., , , , , , koenigstein, krahow, valerius, krossen, johannes, krou, frau, kruse, , kurcke, johannes, kussow, michael, labbun, christopher, lagebusch, johannes, , , lanckin, christopher von der, , landau, , landshut, lasky, stanislas, , leipzig, , , , , , , , lepper, hermann, , , lepusculus, , , lertmeritz, , , leveling, , , marie, lezen, johannes von, lickow, liegnitz, xxii. duke frederick von, , , , lievetzow, lingensis, heinrich, , , livonia, lloytz, the, of stettin, loewe, nicholas, loewenstein, christopher von, , , , loewenhagen, joachim, lorbeer, christopher, , , , , , , , - , , , , , , - , olaff, , zabel, , , loretto, xx., lorraine, dowager of, louvain, , lubeck, xvii., xix., , , , , , , - , - , , , , , , , , , , , , lubbeke, ludwig, duke ernest, lake, constance, lühe von der, luther, martin, xi.-xvii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , madrid, madrutz, gandenz von, , maestricht, magdeburg, xiii., malines, manlius, mantel, jacob, mantua, , , duke of, marburg, xii., marforio, marie, fräulein, of saxony, maries, the three, , marquardt, johannes, , , , marschmann, mattzan, berendt, , joachim, , , - lutke, maurice, duke, , , , mauritz, maximilian, archduke, , , mayence, , , , , , , , bishop of, elector of, mecklenburg, , , , , , , , meisisch, leonard, meiseburg, memmingen, melanchthon, philip, xvi., xvii., , , , mesnia, mense, mey, bernard, meyer, christopher, , meyer, gerard, meyer, hermann, , meyer, marx, - , middleburgh, c. , milan, , , moller, rolof, xv., , , , , , , , , , , , moller, george, monkwitz, von, montefiascone, montfort, count hugo von, moritz, joachim, , , , , , mount scarperia, muggenwald, muhlberg, xxii., , , , muleg hassan, king of tunis, munich, munster, sebastian, , , , musculus, muthrin, nares, naumberg, bishop of, naumberg, duke of, naves, seigneur jean, negendanck, , nering, nicholas, , , , , nerung, new camp, neuenkirchen, nicholas, , , , niederweisel, , , , niemann, johannes, , nordgau, nordhauser, normann, george, , , , , heinrich, , nuremburg, , , , , , , , octavius, duke, , _offices_, cicero's, offing, oppenheim, , , ornans, oseborn, zabel, , osnaburgh, osten, , ostiglia, ovid, palatine, count, elector of, pappenheim, marshal von, parow, christian, , pasewalk, pasquin, paul iii., pope, , petrus, , , , , pflug, gaspard, , johannes, julius, , pforzheim, xix., , , , , ernest von, philip, duke, , , , , , , , , , , philip i., , philip v. of spain, picht, dr., place moland, plate simon, - plawe, pô, , poland, king of, pomerania, xii., xv., , , , , , , , , , , , duke of, _pomeranus_, portius, dr. johannes, _praecepta grammaticae_, prestor, john, prien, v., prussia, duke of, pritze, joachim, puddegla, putkammer, dr., putten, quilow, johannes osten von, ranke, rantzau, count johannes, , rantzin, , rantzow, joachim , ratisbon, , , , diet of, rau, balthazar, ravenna, reiffstock, dr. frederick, , , , reinburg, rheinfeld, rheinhausen, rhodes, , ribbenitz, , richter, rhode, nicholas, , , , , roetteln, roevershagen, rode, nicholas, , rome, , , , , , rostock, xvii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , rosse, martin van, rotterdam, rubricken, bock, xxiv., rugen, , , , , prince of, runge, , rust, joachim, , sachsen, st. angelo, governor of, st. brigitta, , , st. flore, cardinal, count de, , , st. simon, duke, st. alrich, saluces, marquis de, , salzburg, sandow, sansenberg, sarow, sastrow, amnistia, anna, barbara, , bartholomew, ix., x., xv., xvi., xix., xx.-xxiv., , , , , , catherine, , , christian, gertrude, jeremy, john, xx., , , , , , , , , , , , magdalen, sastrow, nicholas, xvi., xvii., xviii., , saxony, duke of, elector of, , , , , , , , , , john of, xii., xiii. maurice of, xiii., xv., schaerlini, schenck, dr. jacob, schermer, frau, schladenteuffel, nicholas, schlackenwerth, schlemm, , schlieben, eustacius, schmalkalden, league of, , , , , , schwallenberg, , schoenfeld, johannes, , , , , schorsow, schwede, bailiff, , schwabe, bartholomew, , schwallenberger, dr., , , , , schwarte, matthew, peter, schwartz, arndt, christian, , , , schwartzenberg, , schwartz, dr. peter, schwendi, lazarus von, schwendi, lazarus, , , schwenkfeld, gaspard von, schwerin, marshal ulrich, , seld, dr. george sigismund, , , , selneccerus, senckestack, johannes, sickermann, heindrich, siena, virgo, sievershausen, , silesia, , , sitten, nanz von, sixtus iv., pope, , skramon, admiral peter, sleidan, , , , , , , , smalkald, xxi., xxii. smeker, h., , , , smiterlow, anna, xvi. bartholamäi, bertrand, , , , , - christian, , , smiterlow, george, , , , johannes, nicholas, xvi., xviii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , solms, count reinhard, sonnenberg, nicholas, , , heinrich, speckin, martin, spires, xii., xix., xxiii., , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , stargurdt, stainbruck, steinkiller, steinwer, canon hippolytus, , sterzing, stettin, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , stiten, franz von, , storentin, frau, stochkolm, stolpe, , , , , stralsund, xv., xvi.-xix., xxiv., , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - stranck, anna, , strasburg, , , , , , bishop of, stroïentin, dr. valentin, - stubenitz, forest of, sturm, jacob, , , , suave, peter, suavenius, petrus, svendsburg, swabia, , , , , tauber, dr., , telchow, simon, , terence, xvii. testenhagen, thomas, wolf, thun, peter, , tollenstein, torgau, , , castle of, torrentius, trent, xx., , , , , , cardinal of, council of, trepstow, , treuenbrietzen, treves, elector of, truchess, prelate otto, tulliver, sen., mr., x. tunis, king of, ulm, , , , , ulrich, duke, upsal, archbishop of, ukermünde, geo. von, , , , , , valentine, , _valley of tears_, venice, , verona, , virgil, vischer, l., , viterbo, vogelsberg, sebastian, , - vogt, johannes, voss, jacob, walde, dr. b. von, , , wallenstein, xii. walter, anthony, wardenburg, zutfeld, , wedel, george von, , , , weingarten, abbé von, , weinleben, chancellor, welch, welfius, heinrich, xvii. welsers, wessels, franz, , , westphalia, xiii., wetteran, wetzlar, weitmulen, sebastian von, wezer, martin, , , , , - willemberg, castle of, willershagen, wismar, , , , , wissemberg, , , , wittenberg, xvi., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , wolde, canon von, wolder, simon, , wolfenbuttel, wolff, frau, wolgang, wolgast, xxii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , worms, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , wulflam, wulf, wullenweber, george, xvii., , - , , , , , wurzburg, bishop of, , wustenfeld, , wustenhausen, zell, , ziegesar, ziegler, zigler, dr. louis, zittau, zober, zwingli, xii. footnotes: [footnote : at the beginning of the sixteenth century the monetary unit in pomerania was the golden florin, which within a fraction was equivalent to the rhenish florin and represented eight francs, sixty-five centimes, regard being had to the fact that the value of silver compared to that of gold was a third more than to-day. the golden florin was divided into forty-eight schellings (not shillings), sixteen of which constituted a mark; the schelling again was divided into twelve pfenning. the schelling of hamburg and of lubeck were worth double that of stralsund.--translator.] [footnote : house property was classified in three categories: dwelling houses (_häuser_), shops (_buden_), which were very light constructions set apart for trade or for accommodating strangers, and cellars (_keller_), or places below the level of the ground floor. the scale of house-tax was for booths, stalls or shops half, for cellars a quarter of that due for dwelling-houses. a census of gives for stralsund houses, , booths or shops, and cellars; of which numbers dwelling houses, booths and cellars are not tenanted. to these figures must be added for the faubourgs or beyond the gates tenements of lesser importance. on the site of the house in huns' street stands or stood a few years ago the hotel jarmer. an inscription on its frontage recalls the birth of jeremy sastrow. according to a competent etymological authority, the name of the hunnenstrasse in greifswald has not the faintest connexion with the huns, but is simply a low german corruption of hundestrasse, _platea canum_, like in lubeck and in barth. in the latter town the thoroughfare thus designated was the locale of the prince's pack of hounds.--translator.] [footnote : nicholas smiterlow, who was councillor in and burgomaster in , enacted an important part at stralsund at a period when the political influence of that city spread far beyond its walls. events pleaded loudly in favour of the resolute and prudent burgomaster against his adventurous adversary, george wullenweber. in spite of his dislike to popular agitation, smiterlow was "one of the first and best upholders of the reformation," if we are to believe the evidence of a chronicler of the sixteenth century. he died in july, . hailing originally from greifswald, he had got married at stralsund in . the smiterlows, schmiterlows, or smiterloews interpreted their name in the sense of "smiters of lions." their arms represented a man wielding a club and a lion by his side. it was said that during the crusades their ancestor had laid low one of those animals with the blow of a club.--translator.] [footnote : it was the custom to give a present to a relative or to a friend as a contribution to the furnishing of his house.--translator.] [footnote : when sastrow became secretary of stralsund he took care to collect, under the title of "rubrikenbuch" all the documents relating to the privileges and property of the city; a collection which proved useful to the magistrates in office and which is of interest to-day as a contribution to the local history.--translator.] [footnote : the ancient monastery of belbuck, near treptow on the rega, became, under abbot boldewan, a nursery of learning. from thence came george von ukermünde, who was the first to preach the reformed doctrine at stralsund; the impassioned preacher kurcke or kureke; ketelhot, born in , died in , whom the chronicler berckmann calls the "apostle of stralsund and the founder of the holy doctrine"; peter suave, the pioneer of the reformation in denmark and holstein; and finally, johannes bugenhagen, famous under the name of _pomeranus_, born in , died in , pastor at wittemberg since , the author of the first historical work on pomerania, the translator of the bible into low-german, and the veritable organizer of protestantism into those northern regions. duke bogislaw x, displeased with the spirit that prevailed at belbuck, suppressed that institution in ; the dispersion of the monks only resulted in the prompter diffusion of the new doctrines. the chronology of the history of the reformation at stralsund remained uncertain up to , in which year the archives of the imperial chamber, forgotten at wetzlar, brought to light the documents in connexion with the lawsuit brought by canon hippolytus steinwer against stralsund, in order to despoil the city of certain revenues and privileges. the principal dates may be fixed as follows: .--first conflict of the city with the catholic clergy who refuse to be taxed; zutfeld wardenburg, administrator of the diocese, flies to rome. or end of .--arrival of the first reformed monks and preachers, george kempe, heindrich sichermann, george von ukermünde. .--first preachings of ketelhot (at easter), and of kurcke on st. michael's day. .--the monday after palm sunday (april ), the churches and convents are invaded; suppression of catholic worship. .--the sunday after all saints' (november ), official recognition of the reformation through the promulgation of the ecclesiastical and scholastic ordinances of johannes alpinus. with regard to political events the confusion was the same. otho frock, the recent historian of pomerania, made it his business to apply the remedy, and the following are the results arrived at. , from may to june.--installation of the forty-eight; voluntary exile of smiterlow. , january.--frustrated attempt of smiterlow to return to stralsund with the support of the hanseatic towns. (probably april ).--riotous election of rolof moller and christopher lorbeer as burgomasters, of franz wessel, hermann meyer and six other partisans of the reformation as councillors. (at st. john).--entry into stralsund of dukes george and barnim; the rendering of homage and confirmation of privileges. (july ?).--rolof moller leaves stralsund, and on august or smiterlow returns. .--return and death of rolof moller.--translator.] [footnote : there are various versions of the origin of this famous tumult. according to some documents the servant's mistress was a widow named frese, who lived in the old market.--translator.] [footnote : the fishmonger's bench or stall of vischer reminds one of that of the reformer froment, preaching on the place molard at geneva, just as the departure of the nuns of st. brigitta, at stralsund, reminds one, though not quite so seriously, of the flitting from geneva of the sisters of santa clara.--translator.] [footnote : in the ducal house of pomerania the law of succession admitted all the sons indistinctly to the throne. they reigned in common, but if an understanding was impossible, the county was divided between them. in the whole of pomerania was united under the sceptre of bogislaw x. at the death of this able prince, which took place in , dukes george and barnim wielded power conjointly, in spite of their utterly opposed sentiments. george remained faithful to the old belief; barnim, on the other hand, proceeded to the university of wittemberg, and in had accompanied luther to leipzig when he was disputing with eck. the honour accrued to barnim in his capacity of rector, a dignity seldom conferred upon a student. george died in , leaving an only son, philippe. the division of pomerania long desired by barnim occurred the following year. barnim's chance gave him eastern pomerania as far as the swine, and with stettin as a residence. to his nephew, philip i, fell western pomerania, of which wolgast became once more the capital. that agreement, concluded for ten years, was renewed in , and its effects were prolonged until , at which date there was a new reunion under bogislaw xiv, of the stettin branch, who died in , the last of the house. the franchises of stralsund, in fact, were so extensive as to reduce the authority of the princes to a mere nominal rule. the bond between them only consisted of a kind of perfunctory rendering of homage and the payment of a small tribute, the amount of which had been fixed once for all. the suzerain only entered the city after a notice of three months. in , with the political and religious crisis at its height, the rendering of homage was preceded by protracted negotiations. no safe-conduct, though delivered by the prince, was valid at stralsund unless it was countersigned by the council. the city exercised its jurisdiction not only within its walls, but in its exterior domains. though exempt from military obligations as far as the reigning dukes were concerned, the city imposed compulsory service both by sea and by land on its citizens. it had the power to conclude treaties and was its sole arbiter with regard to peace or war. these privileges were preserved by stralsund during the whole of the sixteenth century, in spite of the decline of the hanseatic bond.--translator.] [footnote : franz wessel, born at stralsund, september , , died may , , was the son of a brewer of the lange strasse. at a very early age--when scarcely more than twelve--he embraced a commercial career and made long stays in foreign countries, besides pilgrimages to trèves, aix-la-chapelle, einfriedlaw, and st. james of compostella. in he was back at stralsund, and was one of the most energetic and first promoters of the reformation. councillor in , burgomaster in , he played a scarcely less important political part. wessel is the author of a curious piece of writing on divine worship at stralsund at the period of papistry. the very year of his death, gerard droege, who had been brought up in his house, published his biography at rostock.--translator.] [footnote : christopher lorbeer, who was councillor in , burgomaster in , and who died in , belonged to a much respected family of stralsund and enjoyed great consideration there.--translator.] [footnote : according to tradition king arthur or artus, chief of the knights of the round table, lived in the sixth century. he and his companions had devoted themselves to the recovery of the holy grail. arthur himself is supposed to have conquered sweden and norway. on the other hand, the historian johannes magnus, archbishop of upsal, who died in , mentions a swedish arthur famed for his doughty deeds, and he adds: "even in our days, there exist in certain towns along the baltic, for instance at dantzig and stralsund, houses, _domus arthi_, on which the term illustrious has been bestowed; it is there that the notables foregather for the relaxation of their minds, as if it were a kind of school of the highest courtesy and amenity." hence in the trading cities of the north the magnificent structures set apart for public and private rejoicings, as well as for commercial transactions, were intimately bound up with the tradition of a legendary hero. if i am not mistaken, only one of those buildings still remains, namely, the _artushof_ of dantzig, which does duty as an exchange, and the ancient halls of which were the scene of the interview of the german emperor and the czar in september, . the local chroniclers assert that the _artushof_ of stralsund was built with the ransom of duke eric of saxony, taken prisoner by the city troops in the great fire of june , , completely destroyed it. on its site stands the official residence of the military governor of the place. when near his end ketelhot expressed his regret at having, at that period of his scant resources, too eagerly accepted the burgher's hospitality. johannes knipstro (knypstro or knipstrow), born may , , at sandow in the march, was at first a franciscan monk. he and ketelhot are considered as the most active propagators of the reformation at stralsund. but for the earnings of his wife, it is said, he would have been compelled to beg his bread, his salary being too small to keep body and soul together. she was an erewhile nun, and provided for both with her needle. knipstro became superintendent-general at wolgast in , and professor of theology at greifswald. he died october , .--translator.] [footnote : doctor and ducal councillor valentin stroïentin was the friend of ulrich von hutten. bugenhagen dedicated his _pomerania_ to him. he died in .] [footnote : johannes aepinus (in german hoeck or hoch, high), was born in at ziegesar in the urich, and died in superintendent at hamburg, where he had discharged the ministry since . aepinus laboured hard at ecclesiastical and scholastic reform. many writings, especially against the interim, came from his pen.--translator.] [footnote : hermann bonnus, born in , near osnaburgh; he preached the new doctrine at greifswald, stralsund and copenhagen, and died on february , , superintendent at lubeck, a post which had been confided to him in . bonnus has written a chronicle of lubeck.--translator.] [footnote : nicholas gentzkow, doctor of law, born december , , the son of a shoemaker, according to the annalist berckmann, and deceased february , , was elected burgomaster of stralsund in . he, nevertheless, remained syndic, that is, legal adviser to the city, just as, after his admission to the council, sastrow continued his functions of protonotary, or first secretary. sastrow, who had many disagreements with gentzkow, as, in fact, with others, succeeded him in the dignity of burgomaster. gentzkow left a diary of which zober published extracts in .--translator.] [footnote : wulf wulflam, the head of the patricians of stralsund, and illustrious in virtue of his warlike exploits, treated on a footing of equality with the crowned heads of the fourteenth century.--translator.] [footnote : the same story is related of the schwerin family at lubeck.--translator.] [footnote : a jocular allusion to the three maries of bethany, viz., the mother of james the minor and sister of the virgin; the mother of the apostles james and john, and mary of magdala.--translator.] [footnote : the dean of the drapers had precedence of the deans of all the other corporations; in all the ceremonies he came immediately after the council.--translator.] [footnote : george wullenweber was born about , probably at hamburg. when the political and religious struggle broke out at lubeck, he was settled there as a merchant, and he distinguished himself by being in the front rank clamouring for changes. at the end of february, , he was elected councillor and afterwards burgomaster. from that moment the whole of his attempts tended in the direction of the restoration of the commercial monopoly the hanseatic cities had so long possessed on the shores of the baltic. the aim was to close those ports to the dutch merchant navy, and to cause the influence of lubeck to prevail in the three scandinavian kingdoms. in the spring of , lubeck made up its mind to come to close quarters with the dutch, those detested rivals. a well-equipped fleet stood out to sea; the erewhile landsknecht, marcus meyer, who began by being a blacksmith at hamburg, and had married the rich widow of a burgomaster, assumed the command of the mercenaries. the others had, however, been forewarned, and only some unimportant captures were made. meyer, after having confiscated english merchandize found on board of the captured craft, made the mistake of landing on the english coast to revictual; he was arrested for piracy and taken to london. by a whim of henry viii, jealous of the power of the netherlands and of charles v, marx meyer, instead of being put to death, received a knighthood and immediately served as an intermediary between the king and wullenweber in the more or less serious negotiations they started. this first campaign had cost much, and its issue was not very profitable. the dutch fleet had got some good prizes, and pillaged on the schonen (swedish) coast some of the factories belonging to the hanseatic combination. the complaints of the traders themselves became general. was the war to be pursued? a diet foregathered at hamburg in march, , in order to come to an understanding. wullenweber was received with universal recrimination; his haughty attitude drew from the stralsund delegate the famous and prophetic reminder recorded by sastrow a few pages further on. the proud burgomaster left the place at the end of a few days, angry and embittered at heart; in spite of this, an armistice of four years was signed: naturally, wullenweber felt it incumbent to retrieve this check. the elective throne of denmark had become vacant through the death of frederick i of holstein: his son, christian iii, was unfavourably disposed towards the hanseatic cities. under those circumstances wullenweber hit upon the idea of the candidature of christian ii, who had been deposed and afterwards confined to the castle of sunderburg in the island of alsen. a condottiere of high birth, christopher of oldenburg, accepted the chief command of the expedition. but the bold burgomaster, not satisfied with the restoration of christian ii., offered to duke albrecht of mecklenburg the crown of sweden at that time borne by gustavus wasa. that monarch had committed the blunder of not showing himself sufficiently grateful for the aid lent to him by lubeck in days gone by. the beginnings of the campaign were successful. copenhagen opened even its doors to the count of oldenburg. christian iii, however, had secured an able captain in count johannes rantzau, who, leaving the enemy to carry on his devastations in sealand, boldly came to invest lubeck, inflicted a bloody defeat on marx meyer and captured eight vessels of war. wullenweber understood that it was time to make concessions; his partners retired from the councils, and on november , , the very curious convention with rantzau was concluded at stockeldorf by which the lubeckers were left free to continue warring in denmark in favour of christian ii, but bound themselves to cease hostilities in holstein. the candidates for the danish throne increased. albrecht of mecklenburg and even count christopher laid more and more stress upon their pretensions; wullenweber, in order to conciliate the emperor, put forward at the eleventh hour the name of a personage agreeable to the house of hapsburg, namely, count palatine frederick, the son-in-law of christian ii. the war went on with christian iii, whose cause gustavus wasa had espoused. marx meyer fell into the hands of the enemy; left prisoner on parole, he broke his pledge, made himself master of the very castle of warburg that had been assigned to him as a residence, and his barbaric and cruel incursions terrified the country all round. the naval battle of borholm on june , , was not productive of a decisive result, a storm having dispersed the opposing fleets, but on june johannes rantzau scored a victory on land in denmark; and finally, on june , at svendsburg, the lubeck fleet fell without firing a shot into the hands of admiral peter skramon. added to all these catastrophes, lubeck was threatened with being put outside the pale of the empire; the game was evidently lost. nevertheless peace with christian iii was only signed on february , . marx meyer, after a splendid defence, surrendered warburg, on the condition of his retiring with the honours of war; in spite of their promise, the danes tried and executed him together with his brother on june , . on july of the same year copenhagen capitulated, after having sustained a twelve months' investment, aggravated by famine. christian iii gave their liberty to duke albrecht of mecklenburg and to count christopher, although he inflicted repeated humiliations on the latter. as for the duke, the adventure left him crestfallen for a long while. at lubeck the men of the old regime obtained power once more, wullenweber having resigned towards the end of august, . in the beginning of october, while crossing the territory of the archbishop of bremen, the brother of his enemy, duke heinrich the younger, of brunswick, he was arrested, taken to the castle of rothenburg, and put on the rack as a traitor, an anabaptist and a malefactor. after which he was transferred to the castle of stainbrück, between brunswick and hildesheim, and flung into a narrow dungeon, where to this day the following inscription records the event: "here george wullenweber suffered, - ." finally, on september , a court of aldermen summoned at tollenstein, near wolfenbüttel, by heindrich of brunswick, sentenced the wretched man to suffer death by the sword, a sentence which was carried out immediately, the executioner quartering the body and putting it on the wheel. such was the deplorable end of the man whose ambition had dreamt the political and commercial domination of his country in the north of europe. according to a sailor's ditty of old, "the people of lubeck are regretting every day the demise of master george wullenweber." the historian waitz has devoted three volumes to the career of the famous burgomaster; the purely literary men and dramatic authors, kruse and gutzkow, have also seized upon this dramatic figure.--translator.] [footnote : under the name of wends, the sclavs settled on the shores of the baltic, engaged in maritime traffic, and became the founders of the hanseatic league. in the sixteenth century the kernel of that confederation still consisted of the group of the six wendish cities: "lubeck the chief one, hamburg, luneburg, rostock, stralsund and wismar."--translator.] [footnote : the hanseatic league had established its most important factories, and above all for the herring traffic, in schonen; enormous fairs were being held there from the beginning of july to the end of november. the centre of all this commerce was falsterbo, at the extreme southwest of sweden.--translator.] [footnote : valentin eichstedt died in as chancellor of wolgast. he wrote the life of duke philip i, an _epitome annalium pomerania_ and _annales pomeraniae_. johannes berckmann, a former monk of the order of st. augustine, and preacher, an eye-witness of the scenes of the reformation at stralsund, is the author of a chronicle of that city which was published in by mohnike and gober. sastrow has now and again borrowed from him for events anterior to his personal recollections; he nevertheless rarely misses an opportunity of attacking his fellow-worker in history. this may have been due to hatred of the popular party and perhaps to professional jealousy, apart from the fact of berckmann being more favourable to his patron christopher lorbeer than to burgomaster nicholas smiterlow. born about the end of the fifteenth century, berckmann died in .--translator.] [footnote : robert barnes, chaplain to henry viii, and sent by the latter to wittemberg in order to consult the theologians on the subject of henry's divorce from catherine of arragon. at his return to london he showed so much zeal for the new faith that henry sent him to the tower. he recanted in order to recover his freedom; then overwhelmed with remorse fled to wittemberg and stayed there several years with bugenhagen under the name of dr. antonius anglus. henry viii, after his rupture with the pope, reinstated barnes as his chaplain and entrusted him with the negotiations of his marriage with anne of cleves; but when the divorce took place, barnes was brought before parliament and was burned july , . he wrote the lives of the roman pontiffs from st. peter to alexander iii.--translator.] [footnote : arnold büren, the son of a peasant, took his name from the hamlet of büren, in westphalia, in the neighbourhood of which he was born, in . he spent fifteen years at wittemberg with luther and melanchthon. the latter recommended him to the duke of mecklenburg, henry the pacific, as a tutor to his son magnus, who was reported to be the most learned prince of his times. to büren belongs the credit of having restored the prestige of the university of rostock, seriously impaired by the pest and by the troubles of the reformation. he died on september , . his tomb is in st. mary's, at rostock; among the scutcheons adorning it are the genevese key and eagle.--translator.] [footnote : the herring fishery and the brewing industry gave a great importance to the coopers' guild, which was moreover protected against foreign competition by ancient enactments.--translator.] [footnote : gaspard von schwenkfeld, born in at the castle of offing, in silesia, died at ulm in . entered into holy orders, he reproached luther with restoring the reign of literal interpretation and with neglecting the spirit. banished from silesia as a fanatic, he made his way to southern germany, and stayed at strasburg, augsburg, spires and ulm. for some time he seemed to incline towards the anabaptists, but soon parted from them to found a particular sect. he taught that god reveals himself in direct communication to every man, and that regeneration is accomplished by the spiritual life and not by outward means of grace. his profound conviction and great piety gained him many adherents, notably in swabia and silesia. a colony of his persecuted disciples settled in philadelphia, u.s.--translator.] [footnote : at the head of the bands recruited by the duke of cleves and the king of denmark, martin van rosse, or von rossheim, acting in concert with the french troops, had ravaged brabant. not only did the duke of cleves retain guelderland, on which charles v pretended to have claims, but he continued his intrigues with france and denmark. to put an end to these, charles, in , got together , men, spaniards, italians and germans, and proceeded down the rhine. the fortified place of düren having been carried by assault, the duke considered himself lucky to be able to conclude a peace which only cost him guelderland, and martin van rosse took service once more with the emperor.--translator.] [footnote : sastrow has the whole of the grant of poet laureate, with the full description of the arms conferred. in reality it was not a patent of nobility in the proper significance of the term.--translator.] [footnote : les especes enlevées, il renferma la bourse et le fou de s'écrier: "monseigneur, appelez votre coquin de prêtre (il ne le calumnioit point) qu'on le taille à son tour. votre grace sait qu'il a engrossé une fille de butzbach." on suspendit derrière le poêle les angelots cousus dans un sachet.] [footnote : duke henry of brunswick endeavoured to hold his own against the protestant princes, but in , abandoned by the mercenaries, he was compelled to surrender to the landgrave philip of hesse.--translator.] [footnote : on the subject of the child simeon, the following may be read with interest in the martyrology of the israelites, entitled _emek habakha_, or _the valley of tears_ (published by julian sée, ): "at that period ( ), a scoundrel named enzo, of trent, in italy, killed a child of two years old with the name of simeon and flung it secretly into a pond, not far from the house of the jew samuel without any one having seen the deed. immediately, as usual, the jews were accused of it. at the order of the bishop their houses were entered into; the child, of course, was not found, and everybody went back to his home. the body was found afterwards. the bishop, after having had it examined on the spot itself, ordered the arrest of all the jews, who were harassed and tortured to such a degree as to confess to a thing which had never entered their mind. only one among them, a very old man, named moses, refused to avow this signal falsehood and died under his torture. may the lord reward him according to his piety." two christians, learned and versed in the law came from padua to judge for themselves. the wrath of the inhabitants of trent was kindled against them and they were nearly killed. the bishop condemned the jews, heaped bitterness upon them, tortured them with red-hot pincers, finally burned them, and their guiltless souls ascended to heaven. he subsequently took possession of all their property as he had intended, and filled his cellars with spoil. the child was already reported as admitted among the saints, and was supposed to perform miracles. the bishop disseminated the announcement of it throughout all the provinces, crowds rushed to see, and they did not come empty-handed. all the people of that country began to show great hatred to the jews in the spots where they resided, and ceased to speak peacefully to them. meanwhile, the bishop having asked the pope to canonize the child, considering that it was among the saints, the pope sent one of his cardinals with the title of legate to examine the affair more closely, and the latter did not fail before long to discover that it was nothing but an imposture and fancy. he also wished to see the corpse; the corpse was embalmed. thereupon the cardinal began to jeer; he declared in the presence of the people that it was nothing but sheer deception. the people, however, became furious against him; he was obliged to flee and to take refuge in a neighbouring town. when there he sent for all the documents relating to the avowals of the unfortunate jews and the measures taken against them, had the servant of the scoundrel who killed the child arrested, and the latter declared that the crime had been committed by order of the bishop in order to ruin the jews. the cardinal took the servant with him to rome, gave an account of his mission to the pope, who refused to canonize the child as the bishop kept asking him. the child was only "beatified," but up to the present ( ) it has not been "canonized." still, it was canonized in , and its "day" is celebrated with great pomp at trent on march .--translator.] [footnote : ascagne, count of st. florian and cardinal, was the son of constance farnese, daughter of pope paul iii.--translator.] [footnote : duke octavius was the son of peter-aloys farnése.--translator.] [footnote : this epicure was prelate of augsburg, johannes fugger, who in reality travelled for the sole purpose of getting a knowledge of the different vintages. his servant had the following words cut on his tombstone: "_est, est, est et propter nimium est; dominus meus mortuus est._" the defunct left a legacy to empty so many bottles of wine on his grave once a year, a ceremony replaced nowadays by a distribution of bread to the poor. the wine of montefiascone owes its name of _est, est, est_ to this adventure.--translator.] [footnote : the famous captain schaertlin von burtenbach had received the command of the protestant forces, among which figured the contingents of ulm and augsburg: the successful night-surprise against the fortress of ehrenberg-klause marks the beginning of the war of schmalkalden. from that moment schaertlin, having become master of the passages of the tyrol, could stop the reinforcements despatched from italy to the emperor; he could descend into the plain and drive away the council of trent. the citizens of augsburg, though, being anxious for the safety of their own town, pressed him to come back. "he obeyed, racked," says one of his own companions, "by the same despair that hannibal felt when recalled from italy by carthage." the taking of the same fortress by mauritz of saxony in compelled charles v to leave innspruck in hot haste.--translator.] [footnote : here follows a very unsavoury passage, showing the lamentable want of cleanliness even among the educated middle classes in the sixteenth century throughout europe, for the particulars given by sastrow did not apply to germany only.--translator.] [footnote : it is not the final dissolution brought about by the defeat of mühlberg. a passage from sleidan explains the league of schmalkalden at the end of . "the embassies of the protestants, which were not agreed, foregathered with the hope of being enabled to deliberate more efficiently. but inasmuch as the 'allied of the religion' gave no help, and the confederates of luneburg and pomerania did not assist in anything, inasmuch as the other states and towns of saxony were most sparing with their subsidies, as there came nothing from france, and the army dwindled down day by day because the soldiers took their discharge on account of the season and other discomforts, it was proposed to adopt one of three measures: to give battle, to retire and put the soldiers into winter quarters, or to make peace. the discussion resulted in a hint to make peace. but because the emperor, who was aware of the state of things through his spies, proposed too onerous conditions, it was decided to take the whole of the army into saxony. in consequence of all this, the war was by no means successfully conducted."--translator.] [footnote : gaspard pflug, the chief of the protestant party in bohemia, must not be mistaken for julius pflug, bishop of naumburg, one of the three men who drew up "the interim."--translator.] [footnote : sastrow gives only one specimen, but i cannot reproduce it.--translator.] [footnote : after the victory of mühlberg, the imperial army went to lay siege to wittenberg, which finally capitulated at the advice of johannes friedrich of sachsen himself.--translator.] [footnote : the jurist, george sigismund seld, born in , the son of a goldsmith at augsburg, had become vice-chancellor at the death of nares. his deputies were johannes marquardt of baden, and heinrich hase, formerly counsellor to the count palatine and the prince of deux-ponts. seld died in .--translator.] [footnote : christopher von carlowitz, born at heimsdorff, near dresden, on december , , died on january , . he was the able counsellor of the valiant but changeable maurice of saxony, who, as is well known, deserted the protestant side for that of the emperor, and was rewarded with the electoral dignity of which his kinsman and neighbour johannes-friedrich was deprived. a few years later, maurice, at the head of the vanquished of mühlberg, recommenced the struggle against the emperor, and in imposed upon that monarch the peace of passau. in july maurice met with a glorious death on the battlefield of sievershausen, where the margrave of brandenburg suffered a defeat.--translator.] [footnote : it was at ingoldstadt that the challenge of the protestant princes was presented to charles v. by a young squire, accompanied by a trumpeter. the emperor simply sent word to the two messengers that he granted them a safe-conduct; as for those by whom they were sent, he should know how to deal with them. that is the modern version of ranke. according to sastrow there were two challenges and he gives them both. the first was brought to landshut by a gentleman accompanied by a trumpeter. charles refused to receive him. the second is that of ingoldstadt, and is posterior by three weeks to the other. it was presented on september . "this missive," adds sastrow, "has been the cause of all the great ills that have befallen germany, and i verily believe that wishing to chastise the german nation for her sins, god allowed it to be written with infernal ink. neither sleidan nor beuter mentions it; it seems to me that there was an attempt to garble or altogether to suppress it."--translator.] [footnote : sastrow had no easy task for his diplomatic beginnings: charles v had gained the crushing victory of mühlberg over the german protestants on april , ; the league of schmalkalden had ceased to exist; its chiefs, the elector johannes-friedrich of sachsen and the landgrave of hesse, philip the magnanimous, were both prisoners. though they were members of that league since , the dukes of pomerania had, it is true, observed a neutral attitude during the latter years; nevertheless, the emperor's resentment inspired them, not without reason, with great fear. preparations for defence commenced everywhere; greifswald and stralsund strengthened and increased their fortifications. finally, the dukes obtained their pardon, in consideration of humiliating excuses, the acceptance of the interim, and the payment of a large contribution, towards which stralsund contributed , florins.--translator.] [footnote : the duke frederick iii von liegnitz in silesia, born in , had become reigning duke in . his ill-regulated conduct caused him to be called "the extravagant." finally, the emperor ordered him to be deposed. frederick iii, who died in , spent the last six years of his life dependent upon private charity at the castle of liegnitz. heindrich xi, his son and successor, followed his example in every respect. far distant from silesia, in a mountainous region of switzerland, there lived at that period another offshoot of an illustrious princely house, namely, count michael de gruyère, who, the last of his race, was soon compelled to abandon to his creditors even the manor of his ancestors by a curious coincidence the two incorrigible spendthrifts met at the french court and became, it appears intimately acquainted, for the noble silesian paid a visit to the french noble in at his seat at devonne, near geneva. it would be impossible to conceive a better matched couple. michael, finding his guest to be suffering from fever caused by a fall from his horse at lyons, took him to the castle of gruyère. true to his custom, frederick soon asked for a loan, and obtained a big sum which the count himself had borrowed. when it came to repayment they fell out; there was a lawsuit at friburg, and the duke, ordered to refund, gave some jewels as security, which, after all, were not redeemed. a letter from the countess de gruyère says, in fact, that count michael, holding several precious stones of great beauty, having belonged to the duke von liegnitz, has pledged part of them with the lords of lucerne and another part with various people of friburg. an innkeeper of that town with whom the prince had lodged put a distraint on certain jewels and other objects. frederick succeeded in leaving the country, as usual, without paying.--translator.] [footnote : those who refused to charles v the title of emperor called him charles of ghent.--translator.] [footnote : lazarus von schwendi was born in . after a brilliant university career at basle and strasburg, he entered the service of charles v, who employed him both in warfare and in diplomatic negotiations. it was he who was ordered to arrest, at wissemburg, sebastian vogelsberg, who, in spite of the emperor's prohibition, had taken service with france, and was relentlessly executed as an example to schaerlin and other protestant captains who had taken refuge at the court of the king. schwendi became a member of the imperial council for german affairs. he went through all the campaigns in germany, the low countries and hungary. in he was appointed general-in-chief against the turks. he retired to alsace, and died there in may, , bequeathing to strasburg ten thousand florins for poor students.--translator.] [footnote : nicholas perrenot de granvelle, born at ornans (doubs) in , died at augsburg in . he was the most influential minister of charles v. his son, anthony, who was born at besançon in , inherited the paternal omnipotence. appointed bishop of arras at twenty-three years of age, he died a cardinal at madrid in .--translator.] [footnote : these "portuguese" golden coins were pieces of mark and often served as presents.--translator.] [footnote : margrave albrecht of brandenburg-culmbach, nicknamed alcibiades, was born in and died in . these two princes were fated to oppose each other in at sievershausen, where maurice, though victorious, perished. he had been ordered to reduce albrecht to order, as the latter continued to trouble the peace of the empire.--translator.] [footnote : "truc" was a kind of game of skill, not unlike billiards, but more like bagatelle. there is a reproduction from an ancient picture of a "truc" board in richter's _bilder aus der deutschen kulturgeschichte_, vol. ii. p. .--translator.] [footnote : at a grand ball at the court of philip v of spain, the duke de saint simon saw nearly two centuries later the ladies seated on the carpet covering the floor of one of the reception rooms.--translator.] [footnote : jacob sturm, of sturmeck, the great magistrate and reformer of strasburg, "the ornament of the german nobility," and who undertook not less than ninety-one missions between and . he was born at strasburg in , and died therein .--translator.] [footnote : of all the towns of upper germany constance was the last to submit to the emperor. on august , , it was suddenly placed without the ban of the empire, and on the same day a contingent of spaniards endeavoured to take it by force. though surprised, the inhabitants took up arms. the enemy, already master of the advanced part of the town, made for the bridge over the rhine, and it was feared that they would enter pell-mell with the retreating defenders. at that critical moment, a burgher who was hard pressed by two spaniards, performed an act of heroism; he took hold of his adversaries, and recommending his soul to god, dragged them into the stream with him, giving his townsmen time to close the gates. constance escaped for the nonce, but, after having vainly waited for help, it had to capitulate on the following october .--translator.] [footnote : sastrow's portrait is wanting in the collection of portraits of the burgomasters of stralsund. the passage above suggests sastrow's likeness to jacob sturm.--translator.] [footnote : the "interim" was the document drawn up by charles v in , which, until the decision of a general church convocation, was to guide both catholics and protestants, which document was disliked by both.--translator.] [footnote : johannes walther von hirnheim belonged to an old knightly family and had no children by his wife margaret goeslin.--translator.] [footnote : in , after the promulgation of the "interim," melanchthon and some other theologians proposed a _modus vivendi_ which was called the "leipzig interim." they accepted the jurisdiction of bishops, confirmation and last unction, fasts and feasts, even those of the _corpus domini_, and nearly the whole of the ancient canon of the mass. all this, according to them, was so much _adiophora_, in other words, things of no importance, to submit to which was perfectly permissible for the sake of the unity and peace of the church. this concession, which was considered as a sign of weakness by many, caused an animated polemical strife.--translator.] [footnote : the lloytz were the richest merchants of stettin. they went bankrupt in for twenty "tuns" of gold, i.e. for , pounds sterling. half a century later the council of stettin still attributed the bad state of business to that failure.--translator.] [footnote : the letter of the celebrated geographer is in latin and reads as follows: "i received thy letter dated from spires january , together with a large bundle of manuscripts and maps coming from pomerania. the ducal chancellor citzewitz when i saw him promised me those documents before christmas without fail. we even waited for another month, and nothing having come, we proceeded with our work. the same thing happened with the duchy of cleves. in the one case as in the other, i decline all responsibility, for in both i gave the rulers of those countries ample notice. herr petrus artopaeus asks me to send thee the map of pomerania, which he dispatched to me from augsburg two years ago. i comply with his wish; thou no doubt knowest what to do with it. at the frankfurt fair i shall write to the chancellor of pomerania; i am too busy to do so at present: we are printing the last sheets of the _cosmographiae_; the printer must be ready to offer this costly work for sale at the next fair, and it must be illustrated with a number of figures. among the things sent from pomerania, i have found the drawing of a big black fish with an explanation which i detach from it in order for thee to copy it clearly, for i have my doubts about the word '_braunfisch_' (if i have read aright), and even stronger doubts with regard to the english and spanish. i shall feel obliged by thy writing me those names more distinctly and to send them to me at the easter vacation by one of the many merchants from basle who pass through spires on their return from the fair. meanwhile, i wish thee good health! basle, wednesday after _riminiscere_ (the second sunday in lent)." the printer of the _cosmographie_ was h. petri. artopaeus points out the theologian peter becker as the author of the description of pomerania largely consulted by münster.--translator.] [footnote : a very ancient custom obliged the ammeister, or first magistrate of strasburg, regularly to take his two meals per day during his year of office at the expense of the city, at "the lantern," unless he preferred the stewpans patronized by his own tribe. the table was open to every one willing to pay the fixed price. "_ad istum prandium omnibus et incolis et peregrinis pro certo pretio accedere licet_," says the _itinerarium germaniae_ of hentzer, who visited strasburg in . seven years later a gentleman from the march mentions also in his journal the _ammeisterstube_ (the _ammeister's_ room), where the _ammeister_ and two _stadmeister_ take their daily meals. everybody is free to go in and to be served by paying. each tribe (set) has its particular stewpan. what becomes of the _ammeister's_ usual haunt when the _ammeister_ is a member of that particular tribe? nevertheless, the establishment mostly patronized is that of the grain market, which is conveniently situated. among other strictly observed formalities are the blessing and the grace, announced by the rapping with a wand, and the proceedings are always opened by a reminder of the submission due to the authorities. the custom no doubt had its origin in the provisions for public order which induced the magistrates of geneva to close all the taverns in . they were replaced by five so-called abbeys, each having at its head one of the four syndics or their lieutenant; but after a few weeks, this reform, the idea of which had been brought, perhaps, from strasburg by calvin had to be abandoned. the _ammeister_ for being too feeble to eat twice a day at the expense of the city, the supper was suppressed. it would appear, however, that the magistrates "forgot themselves" at table, for the council of fifteen made an order in obliging the _ammeister_ to be at the town hall at one o'clock. "the magistrates too often only appeared at the senate and at the chancellerie between three and four o'clock," says a chronicler. apparently the order did not remedy the evil, as in it was decided to do away with the ancient institution.--translator.] [footnote : an allusion to the thief whose execution sastrow saw in rome.--translator.] [footnote : the bishopric of cammin had been secularized; the importance of the debate bore wholly upon the revenues.--translator.] [footnote : this son, who became a doctor of law and who died in without issue, had a very hasty temper. on one occasion he drew his sword at a sitting of the council whither his father had sent him to present a document. on another occasion he shook the hall by violently striking the magisterial bench with his fist, while his father kept saying: "gently, johannes, gently."--translator.] [footnote : it is to his two daughters catherine and amnistia, and to his two sons-in-law heinrich gottschalk and jacob clerike, and to their children, that sastrow has dedicated his _memoirs_, his son being already dead.--translator.] * * * butler & tanner, the selwood printing works, frome, and london. produced from scanned images of public domain material from the google print project.) the pocket bible the full series of the mysteries of the people ::or:: history of a proletarian family across the ages by eugene sue _consisting of the following works_: the gold sickle; or, _hena the virgin of the isle of sen_. the brass bell; or, _the chariot of death_. the iron collar; or, _faustina and syomara_. the silver cross; or, _the carpenter of nazareth_. the casque's lark; or, _victoria, the mother of the camps_. the poniard's hilt; or, _karadeucq and ronan_. the branding needle; or, _the monastery of charolles_. the abbatial crosier; or, _bonaik and septimine_. the carlovingian coins; or, _the daughters of charlemagne_. the iron arrow-head; or, _the buckler maiden_. the infant's skull; or, _the end of the world_. the pilgrim's shell; or, _fergan the quarryman_. the iron pincers; or, _mylio and karvel_. the iron trevet; or, _jocelyn the champion_. the executioner's knife; or, _joan of arc_. the pocket bible; or, _christian the printer_. the blacksmith's hammer; or, _the peasant code_. the sword of honor; or, _the foundation of the french republic_. the galley slave's ring; or, _the family lebrenn_. published uniform with this volume by the new york labor news co. city hall place new york city the pocket bible or christian the printer a tale of the sixteenth century by eugene sue in two volumes vol. i. translated from the original french by daniel de leon new york labor news company. copyright , by the new york labor news co. index volume part i. the society of jesus. introduction chapter. i. the theft ii. the neophyte iii. the sale of indulgences iv. the "test of the lutherans" v. monsieur john vi. the franc-taupin vii. brother st. ernest-martyr viii. in the garret ix. the penitent x. loyola and his disciples xi. mother and daughter xii. herve's dementia xiii. calvinists in council xiv. hena's diary xv. diary of st. ernest-martyr xvi. the tavern of the black grape xvii. the cottage of robert estienne xviii. for better and for worse xix. on the road to paris xx. january , volume part ii--the huguenots. introduction chapter i. the queen's "flying squadron" ii. anna bell iii. the avengers of israel iv. gaspard of coligny v. family flotsam vi. the battle of roche-la-belle vii. "contre-un" viii. st. bartholomew's night ix. the siege of la rochelle x. the lambkins' dance xi. capture of cornelia xii. the duke of anjou xiii. the bill is paid epilogue translator's preface. the epoch covered by this, the th story of eugene sue's dramatic historic series, entitled _the mysteries of the people; or, history of a proletarian family across the ages_, extends over the turbulent yet formative era known in history as the religious reformation. the social system that had been developing since the epoch initiated by the th story of the series, _the abbatial crosier; or, bonaik and septimine_, that is, the feudal system, and which is depicted in full bloom in the th story of the series, _the iron trevet; or, jocelyn the champion_, had been since suffering general collapse with the approach of the bourgeois, or capitalist system, which found its first open, or political, expression in the reformation, and which was urged into life by luther, calvin and other leading adversaries of the roman catholic regime. the history of the reformation, or rather, of the conflict between the clerical polity which symbolized the old and the clerical polity which symbolized the new social order, is compressed within the covers of this one story with the skill at once of the historian, the scientist, the philosopher and the novelist. the various springs from which human action flows, the various types which human crises produce, the virtues and the vices which great historic conflicts heat into activity--all these features of social motion, never jointly reproduced in works of history, are here drawn in vivid colors and present a historic canvas that is prime in the domain of literature. in view of the exceptional importance of some of the footnotes in which sue refers the reader to the pages of original authorities in french cited by him, the pages of an accessible american edition are in those cases either substituted or added in this translation. daniel de leon. new york, february, . part i the society of jesus introduction. what great changes, sons of joel, have taken place in paris since the time when our ancestor eidiol the parisian skipper lived in this city, in the ninth century, at the time of the northman invasion! how many changes even since , when our ancestor jocelyn the champion fell wounded beside etienne marcel, who was assassinated by john maillart and the royalists! the population of this great city now, in the year , runs up to about four hundred thousand souls; daily new houses rise in the suburbs and outside the city walls, whose boundaries have become too narrow, although they enclose from twelve to thirteen thousand houses. but now, the same as in the past, paris remains divided into four towns, so to speak, by two thoroughfares that cross each other at right angles. st. martin, prolonged by st. james street, traverses the city from east to west; st. honoré, prolonged by st. antoine street, traverses it from north to south. the louvre is the quarter of the people of the court; the quarter of the bastille, of the arsenal, filled with arms, and of the temple is that of the people whose profession is war; the quarter of the university is that of the men of letters; finally the quarter of notre dame and st. germain, where lie the convents of the cordeliers, of the chartreux, of the jacobins, of the augustinians, of the dominicans and of many other hives of monks and nuns besides the monasteries that are scattered throughout the city, is that of the men of the church. the merchants, as a general thing, occupy the center of paris towards st. denis street; the manufacturers are found in the eastern, the shabbiest of all the quarters, where, for one liard, workingmen can find lodging for the night. the larger number of the bourgeois houses as well as all the convents are now built of stone, and are no longer frame structures as they formerly were. these modern buildings, topped with slate or lead roofs and ornamented with sculptured facades, become every day more numerous. likewise with crimes of all natures; their increase is beyond measure. with nightfall, murderers and bandits take possession of the streets. their numbers rise to twenty-five or thirty thousand, all organized into bands--the _guilleris_, the _plumets_, the _rougets_, the _tire-laines_,[ ] the latter of whom rob bourgeois, who are inhibited from carrying arms. the _tire-soies_,[ ] a more daring band, fall upon the noblemen, who are always armed. the _barbets_ disguise themselves as artisans of several trades, or as monks of several orders and introduce themselves into the houses for the purpose of stealing. besides these there are the bands of _mattes_ or _fins-mattois_, skilled cut-purses and pick-pockets; and finally the _mauvais-garçons_,[ ] the most redoubtable of all, who publicly, for a price chaffered over and finally agreed upon, offer their daggers to whomsoever wishes to rid himself of an enemy. nor is this the worst aspect presented by the crowded city. paris runs over with lost women and courtesans of all degrees. never yet did immorality, to which the royal court, the church and the seigniory set so shocking a pace, cause such widespread ravages. a repulsive disease imported from america by the spaniards since the conquests of christopher columbus poisons life at its very source. finally, paris presents a nameless mixture of fanaticism, debauchery and ferocity. above the doors of houses of ill fame, images of male and female saints are seen in their niches, before which thieves, murderers and courtesans uncover and bend the knee as they hurry by, bent on their respective pursuits. the tire-laines, the guilleris and other brigands burn candles at the altars of the virgin or pay for masses for the success of their crimes in contemplation. superstition spreads in even step with criminality. pious physicians are cited who regularly take the weekly communion, and who, bought by impatient heirs, poison with their pharmaceutical concoctions the rich patients, whose decease is too slow in arriving. the most horrid felonies have lost their dreadfulness, especially since the papal indulgences, sold for cash, insure absolution and impunity to the criminals. the virtues of the hearth and all good morals seem to have fled to the bosom of those families only who have discarded the paganism of rome and, although styled heretics, practice the simplicity of evangelical morality. one of these families is that of christian the printer, the great-grandchild of jocelyn the champion's son, who, due to the rapid progress made by the printing press, which rendered manuscript books useless and unnecessarily expensive, found it ever more difficult to earn his living at his trade of copyist and illuminator of manuscripts. accordingly, after the death of his father, who was the son of jocelyn the champion and continued to live at vaucouleurs after witnessing the martyrdom of joan of arc, allan lebrenn moved to paris, induced thereto by john saurin, a master-printer of this city who, having during a short sojourn at vaucouleurs been struck by the young man's intelligence at his trade, promised to aid him in finding work in the large city. he accepted the offer and speedily succeeded in his new field. he married in , died in , and left a son, melar lebrenn, who was born in and was the father of christian the printer. melar lebrenn followed his father's occupation, and worked long after his father's death in john saurin's establishment, where his services were highly appreciated. but after john saurin's death, melar lebrenn, who had in the meantime married and had three children, christian and two daughters, was dismissed by saurin's successor, a man named noel compaign. compaign was a religious bigot. he was incensed at what he termed melar lebrenn's unbelief, hounded him with odious calumnies, and spoke of him to the other members of the guild as dishonest and otherwise unfit. melar lebrenn soon felt the effect of these calumnies; his trade went down; his savings were consumed; his family was breadless; he had nothing left to him but the legends and relics of his family, that were handed down from generation to generation. under these circumstances melar lebrenn made one more and desperate effort to rise to his feet. he knew by reputation henry estienne, the most celebrated printer of the last century. estienne's goodness of heart as well as his knowledge were matters of common repute. melar lebrenn decided to turn to him, but he found estienne strongly prejudiced against him through the calumnies that compaign had circulated. but melar lebrenn was not yet discouraged. he explained to estienne circumstantially the reason of compaign's hatred, and offered estienne to serve him on trial. the offer was accepted, and melar lebrenn soon acquitted himself so well both as a typesetter and a reader of proof, that master henry estienne, judging from the falseness of the accusations concerning melar lebrenn's skill at his trade, concluded he was equally wronged in his private character. from that time on, estienne took a deep interest in melar and was soon singularly attached to him, as much by reason of his skill, as for the probity of his character and the kindness of his heart. the two daughters of melar lebrenn were carried away by the pest that swept over paris in ; his wife survived them only a short time; and melar himself died in . his only surviving child, christian, married bridget ardouin, an embroiderer in gold and silver thread. christian entered the printing establishment of henry estienne as an apprentice at his twelfth year. after the death of the venerated henry estienne, christian remained under the employ of robert estienne, his father's heir in virtue and his superior in scientific acquirements. the editions that robert estienne issued of the old greek, hebrew or latin authors are the admiration of the learned by the correctness of the text, the beauty of the type, and the perfection of the printing. among other things he published a pocket edition of the new testament, translated into french, a veritable masterpiece of typography. the bonds that united master robert estienne and his workman christian lebrenn became of the closest. three children were born of the marriage of christian lebrenn with bridget ardouin--a boy, born in , and at the commencement of this history eighteen years of age; a girl in , and a boy in . the latter is named odelin; he is an apprentice in the establishment of master raimbaud, one of the most celebrated armorers of paris. the eldest son is named hervé, in memory of his mother's father, and he follows his father christian's profession of printer. the girl is named hena in remembrance of the virgin of the isle of sen. chapter i. the theft. it was one evening towards the middle of the month of august of . christian lebrenn occupied a modest house situated at about the center of the exchange bridge. almost all the other bridges thrown over the two arms of the seine are, like this one, lined with houses and constitute a street under which the river flows. the kitchen, where the meals were taken, was on the first floor, even with the street; behind this room, the door and window of which opened upon the public thoroughfare, was a smaller one, used for bed chamber by hervé, christian's eldest son, and the younger brother odelin, the apprentice at master raimbaud's. at the time, however, when this narrative opens, odelin was absent from paris, traveling in italy with his master, who had gone to milan in order to study the process by which the milanese armors, as celebrated as those of toledo, were manufactured. the upper floor of christian's house consisted of two rooms. one of these he occupied himself with his wife bridget; his daughter hena occupied the other. finally, a garret that served as storeroom for winter provisions, topped the house and had a window that opened upon the river. on this evening christian was in an animated conversation with his wife. it was late. the children were both asleep. a lamp lighted the room of the husband and wife. near the window, with its small lozenge-shaped panes fastened between ribs of lead, lay the embroideries at which bridget and hena had been at work. in the rear of this rather spacious chamber stood the conjugal bed, surmounted with its canopy and enclosed by its curtains of orange serge. a little further away was a little book-case containing in neat rows the volumes in the printing of which christian and his father contributed at the printing establishment of masters henry and robert estienne. in the same case christian kept under lock his family legends and relics, together with whatever else that he attached special value to. above the case an old cross-bow and battle axe hung from the wall. it was always well to have some arms in the house in order to repel the attacks of bandits who had of late grown increasingly bold. two flat leather covered coffers for clothes and a few stools completed the humble furnishings of the room. christian seemed greatly troubled in mind. bridget, looking no less concerned than her husband, dropped the work that she expected to finish by lamp-light, and stepped towards her husband. with his eyes fixed upon the ground, his elbows upon his knees and his head in his hands, the latter observed: "there can be no doubt. the person who stole the money, here, in this room, out of that case, and without breaking the lock, must be familiar with our house." "i can assure you, christian, since yesterday when we discovered the theft, i have been in a continuous fever." "none but we and our children enter this room." "no, excepting our customers or their employees. but as i am well aware that the barbets are bold and wily enough to put on the disguise of honest merchants, whenever occasion demands it, in order to gain access to a house and steal, and that they might play that trick upon me under the pretext of bringing an order for some embroidery, neither hena nor i ever leave the room when a stranger is with us." "i am ransacking my mind for the intimate acquaintance who could have entered the room," the printer proceeded as if communing with himself with painful anxiety. "occasionally, lefevre spends an evening with us; i have come up into this room with him several times when he requested me to read some of our family legends to him." "but, my friend, it is a long time since we have seen lefevre; you yourself were wondering the other day what may have become of him; moreover, it is out of all question to suspect your friend, a man of austere morals, always wrapt in science." "god prevent my suspecting him! i was only going over the extremely small number of persons who visit us familiarly." "then there is my brother. the fellow is, true enough, a soldier of adventure; he has his faults, grave faults, but--" "ah, bridget, josephin has for you and our children so tender a love, so touching--i hold him capable of doing almost anything in a hostile country, as is customary with people of his vocation; but he, who almost every day sits at our hearth--he, commit a theft in our house? such a thought never crossed my mind--and never will!" "oh, i thank you for these words! i thank you!" "and did you suppose that i suspected your brother? no! a thousand times, no!" "what shall i say? the vagabond life that he has led since his early youth--the habits of violence and rapine with which the 'franc-taupins,' the 'pendards,' and the other soldiers of adventure who are my brother's habitual companions are so justly reproached, might have caused suspicion to rise in some prejudiced mind, and--but my god--christian--what ails you, tell me what ails you?" cried bridget, seeing her husband hide his face between his hands in utter despair, and then suddenly rise and pace the room, as if pursued by a thought from which he sought to flee. "my friend," insisted bridget, "what sudden thought has struck and afflicts you? there are tears in your eyes. your face is strangely distorted. answer me, i pray you!" "i take heaven to witness," cried the artisan, raising his hands heavenward with a face that betrayed the tortures of his heart, "the loss of the twenty gold crowns, that we gathered so laboriously, is a serious matter to me; it was our daughter's dower; but that loss is as nothing beside--" "beside what? let me know!" "no. oh, no! it is too horrible!" "christian, what have you in mind?" "leave me! leave me!" but immediately regretting the involuntary rudeness, the artisan took bridget's hands in his own, and said to her in a deeply moved voice: "excuse me, poor, dear wife. you see, when i think of this affair i lose my head. when, at the printing shop, to-day, the horrible suspicion flashed through my mind, i feared it would drive me crazy! i struggled against it all i could--but a minute ago, as i was running over with you our intimate acquaintances who might be thought guilty of the theft, the frightful suspicion recurred to me. that is the reason of my distress." christian threw himself down again upon his stool; again a shudder ran over his frame and he hid his face between his hands. "tell me, my friend, what is the suspicion that assails you and that you so violently resist? impart it to me, i pray you." after a painful struggle with himself that lasted several minutes, the artisan murmured in a faint voice as if every word burnt his lips: "like myself, you noticed, recently--since about the time of odelin's departure for milan--you noticed, like myself, that a marked change has been coming over the nature and the habits of hervé." "our son!" cried bridget stupefied; and she added: "mercy! would you suspect him of so infamous an act?" christian remained steeped in a gloomy silence that bridget, distracted with grief as she was, did not at first venture to disturb. presently she proceeded: "impossible! hervé, whom we brought up in the same principles as his brother--hervé, who never was away from us--" "bridget, i told you, the suspicion is horrible; i have struggled against it with all my might," and the artisan's voice was smothered with sobs. "and yet, if after all it should be so! if our son is indeed the guilty one!" "my friend, your suspicion bereaves me of my senses. you love hervé so dearly, and your judgment is always so sound, your mind so penetrating, that i can not conceive how so unjustifiable a thought could take possession of you. our son is continuously at the printing shop, at your side, as hena is at mine; better than anyone else should you know your son's heart." bridget remained silent for a moment and then proceeded while scalding tears rolled down her cheeks: "oh, i feel it, even if your suspicion is never justified, it will embitter the rest of my life! oh, to think our son capable of stealing!" "and for that very reason there is no one else in the world but you, and you alone, to whom i confide the horrid suspicion. oh, bridget, it is more than a suspicion. let us not exaggerate matters; let us not be unnecessarily cast down; let us calmly look into the affair; let us carefully refresh our memories; we may arrive--may god hear my words--at the conclusion that the suspicion is unfounded. as i was just saying, a great change has lately come over hervé. you noticed the singular manifestations as well as i." "yes, recently, he, who formerly was so cheerful, so open, so affectionate, has of late been cold and somber, dreamy and silent. he has grown pale and thin; he is quickly irritated. shortly before the departure of our little odelin, he often and without cause scolded the poor boy, for whom he always before had only kind words. and often since then, have i had occasion to reproach hervé for his rudeness, i should almost say harshness towards his sister, whom he dearly loved. he now seems to avoid her company. at times i simply cannot understand his conduct towards her. why, only yesterday, when you and he came home from the printing shop, after embracing you, as is her custom, hena offered her forehead to her brother--but he rudely pushed her aside." "i did not notice that; but i did notice the growing indifference of hervé towards his sister. what mystery can lie below that?" "and yet, my friend, we love all our children equally. hervé might feel hurt if we showed any preference for hena or odelin. but we do not. we are equally kind to all the three." "yes, indeed. we shall have to look elsewhere for the cause of the change that afflicts us. can it be that, without our knowledge, he keeps bad company? there is one circumstance in this affair that has struck me. paternal love does not blind me. i see great aptitudes in hervé. not to mention the gift of an easy flowing eloquence that is exceptional at his age, he has become an excellent latinist. owing to his aptitude in that direction he has more than once been chosen to gather precious manuscripts at the houses of some men of letters, who are the friends of master robert estienne. usually our son attended to such work with accuracy and despatch. of late, however, his absence from the shop on such errands is often long, unnecessarily so and also frequent, and he does not attend properly to his errands, sometimes does not attend to them at all. master robert estienne has complained to me in a friendly way, saying that hervé should be watched, that he was drawing near his eighteenth year and might contract acquaintances that would be cause of trouble for us later." "on that very subject, my friend, only a few days ago i was reproaching hervé for his estrangement from the friends of his boyhood, all of whom are good and honest lads. he flees their company and spurns their cordial advances. the only person with whom he seems to be intimate is fra girard, the franciscan friar and son of our neighbor the mercer." "i would prefer some other company for our son, but not that i accuse fra girard of being, like so many other monks, an improper person to associate with. he is said to be of austere morals, but being older than hervé, he has, i am afraid, gained considerable influence over him, and rendered him savagely intolerant. several of the artisans at the shop of master estienne are, like he himself, partisans of the religious reform; some are openly so, despite the danger that their outspokenness entails, others more privately. more than once did our son raise his voice with excessive violence against the new ideas which he calls heresies. and yet he knows that you and i share them." "alas! my friend, what woman, what mother would not share the reform ideas, seeing that they reject auricular confession? did we not find ourselves compelled to stop our daughter from attending the confessional on account of the shameful questions that a priest dared to put to her and which, in the candor of her soul, she repeated to us? but to return to hervé, even though, in some respects, i dislike his intimacy with fra girard and fear it may tend to render him intolerant, the influence of the monk, the austerity of whose morals is commented upon, must have had the effect of keeping far from our son's mind an act so ugly that we can not mention it without shedding tears of sorrow," added bridget wiping her moist eyes; "hervé's piety, my friend, becomes daily more fervent; as you know, the unhappy boy imposes upon himself, at the risk of impairing his health, ever longer fasts. did i not discover from the traces of blood upon his shirt that on certain days he carries close to his skin a belt that is furnished within with sharp iron pricks? that is not the conduct of a hypocrite! he sought to conceal from all eyes the secret macerations that he inflicts upon himself in penitence. it was only accidentally that i discovered the fact. i deplore such fanaticism; but his fanaticism may also be a safeguard. the very exaggeration to which hervé carries his religious principles must strengthen him against temptation. heaven be blessed! you were right, christian; by closely considering the circumstances, we can come at no other conclusion than that such suspicions are unfounded. our son is innocent, do you not think so, christian?" gloomy and pensive the artisan listened to his wife without interrupting her. he replied: "no, dear wife; fanaticism is no safeguard against evil. alas! differently from you, the more i consider the facts that you adduce--i hardly dare say so to you--my suspicions, so far from being removed, grow in weight. yes, i believe our son guilty." "great god! what a horrible thought!" "i believe our son is sincere in his devout practices, however exaggerated these may be. but i also know that one of the most frightful consequences of fanaticism is that it clouds and perverts the most elemental principles of right and wrong, of justice and injustice, with those whom it dominates. religious faith substitutes morality." "but theft, seeing that i must mention the word--theft--how can fanaticism excuse that? you must be mistaken upon that subject!" "listen, bridget. a few days ago--and it was the recollection of the circumstance that first awoke my suspicions--a few days ago one of our fellow workmen at the shop expressed himself with indignation at the traffic of indulgences that has recently been carried on in paris, and he said emphatically that besides the immorality of the trade that was being practiced in the pope's name, the extortion of money by such means from ignorance and from popular credulity was nothing short of a fraud practiced upon the people. and do you know the answer that our son made? 'that is a lie! it is impious! the money that is devoted to a pious deed, even if it be the fruit of a theft, of a murder, is purified and sanctified from the moment that it is employed to the greater glory of the lord!'" bridget grew pale, and murmured in a voice smothered by sobs: "oh! now i fear--i also fear! may god have mercy upon us!" "do you now understand how, if our son is indeed guilty of the shameful act which we hesitate to impugn to him, in his blind fanaticism the unhappy boy will have believed that he was doing a meritorious act if he employed the money in some such work of devotion as ordering the saying of masses?" chapter ii. the neophyte. as christian was saying these words, he heard, first at a distance and soon after on the exchange bridge itself, the loud clang of several bells and the sharp twirl of metal rattles, intercepted with a lugubrious psalmody, at the close of which the noise of bells and rattles became deafening. no less astonished than his wife, the artisan rose from his seat, opened the window, and saw a long procession filing before the house. at its head marched a detachment of archers carrying their cross-bows on their left shoulders and long thick wax candles in their right hands; behind them came several dominican monks in their white robes and black cowls, ringing the bells and turning the rattles; after these followed a cart drawn by two horses caparisoned in black and silver network. the four sides of the cart were of considerable height and constituted a huge quadrangular transparency, lighted from within, and representing the figures of men and women of all ages, together with children, plunged up to the waist in a sea of flames, and, amid desperate contortions, raising their suppliant arms towards an image of god seated on a throne. on each of the four sides of the wagon and above the painting the following inscription was to be seen, printed in thick black and red letters: pray for the souls in purgatory to-morrow at the church of the convent of st. dominic the indulgence will raise its throne. pray and give for the poor souls that are in purgatory. four monks equipped with long gilded staves, topped with glass lanthorns, on which also souls in torture were painted, marched on either side of the cart. a large number of other dominican monks carrying a large silver crucifix at their head, followed the cart. the monks chanted in a loud voice the following lugubrious psalm of penitence: _"de profundis clamavi ad te, domine;_ _domine, exaudi vocem meam._ _fiant aures tuæ intendentes_ _in vocem deprecationis meæ!"_[ ] every time, at the close of the funereal chant, the clatter of bells and rattles was struck up anew as the procession marched along. finally, a second detachment of archers brought up the rear. a crowd of ragged men and women, all with cynic and even ruffianly faces, almost all night-strollers, if not worse, followed in the wake of the march. they held one another by the arms, sang, crossed themselves and shouted: "glory to the holy father!" "he sends us indulgences!" "we need them!" "blessings upon him!" interspersed between these exclamations, coarse and even obscene jokes were exchanged. the mob nevertheless bore the impress of conviction in the most deplorable of superstitions. a large number of the inhabitants of the houses built upon the bridge threw open their windows as the procession filed by; some of these reverently knelt down at their windows. after the procession had passed and the noise sounded only from a distance, christian re-shut the window of his room, and said to his wife in voice that was even sadder than before: "alas, this procession seems to me to bode us only ill." "i do not understand you, my friend." "you saw, bridget, the picture on the transparency of the cart that these monks surrounded. it represented the souls in purgatory, writhing in flames. the dominican monks, whom the pope has delegated to sell plenary indulgences, also sell the ransoming of souls in pain. all those who share that belief are convinced that, by means of money, they are able to snatch from the flames of purgatory, not only the near relatives or friends whom they imagine exposed to such torture, but also strangers to them. could not hervé have thought to himself: 'with the gold that i purloin from my father i shall be able to ransom twenty souls--fifty souls from purgatory'?" "say no more, christian, say no more!" cried bridget with a shudder; "say no more! my doubts, alas! almost turn into certainty;" but suddenly interrupting herself and listening in the direction of the door of the room, she added in a low voice: "listen--listen." husband and wife remained silent. in the midst of the profound silence of the night they heard a noise that sounded like the intermittent strapping of a body. a thought flashed through christian's mind; he motioned his wife not to stir; took up the lamp, and gently opened the door leading to the wooden staircase through which the lower floor was reached. leaning over the banister with his hand shading the lamp, christian saw hervé, whom, no doubt, the clatter of bells and rattles of the procession had awakened, kneeling in only his shirt and trousers upon the floor and inflicting a rude discipline upon his sides and shoulders by means of a cat-o'-nine-tails, the thongs of which ended in knots. the lad flagellated himself with such intense exaltation that he did not notice the proximity of his father on the staircase, although the light shed by the lamp projected its rays into the lower hall. bridget had followed her husband with tears in her eyes, walking on tip-toe. he felt the trembling hand of his wife upon his shoulder and in his ear the whispered words of distress that forced themselves through her sobs: "oh, the unhappy boy!" "come, my dear wife; the moment is favorable to obtain a confession from our son." "and if he confesses, let everything be pardoned," replied the indulgent mother. "he must have succumbed to an impulse of fanatical charity." with the lamp in his hand the artisan descended into the kitchen with his wife without seeking to conceal their approach. the sound of their steps and the creak of the wooden staircase under their feet finally attracted hervé's attention. he suddenly turned his head, and, seeing his father and mother, rose from the floor with a start as if propelled by a spring. in his surprise the lad dropped his instrument of torture. christian's son was almost eighteen years of age. his once open, happy and blooming face, that breathed frankness, had become pale and somber; his unsteady, restless eyes seemed to eschew observation. the unexpected presence of his parents seemed at first to cause him a painful impression; he looked embarrassed; but doubtlessly calling himself to account for the unguarded impulse of false shame, he said resolutely without raising his eyes: "i was administering a discipline to myself--i thought i was alone--i was fulfilling a penance--" "my son," replied the artisan, "seeing that you are up, sit down upon that chair--your mother and i have serious matters to speak about with you; we shall be better here than upstairs, where our voice might wake up your sister." not a little astonished, the lad sat down, on a stool. christian also sat down; bridget remained standing near her husband, leaning upon his shoulder, with her eyes resting compassionately upon her son. "my boy," said christian, "i wish, first of all, to assure you that neither i nor your mother have ever thought of crossing you in the religious practices that you have of late been indulging in with all the impetuous ardor of a neophyte. but seeing that the occasion presents itself, i wish to make some observations to you upon the subject in all fatherly love." "i listen, father; speak." "you, as well as your sister and brother, have been brought up by us in the evangelical doctrine--love one another, do not unto others what you would not like to be done to, pardon those who trespass against you, pity the sinners, help the sorrowful, honor those who repent, be industrious and honest. these few words sum up the eternal morality that your mother and myself have preached and held up to you since your infancy as the example to be followed. when you reached riper years of intelligence i sought to inculcate in your mind that belief of our fathers that we are immortal, body and soul, and that after what is called death, a moment of transition between the existence that ends and that which begins, we are born again, or, rather, continue to live, spirit and matter, in other spheres, thus rising successively, at each of those stages of our eternal existence, towards infinite perfection equal to that of the creator." "that, father, is heresy, and flies in the face of catholic dogma." "be it so. i do not force the belief upon you. every man is free to strive in his religious aspirations after his own ideal of the relations between the creator and the creature. the freedom to do so is the most priceless attribute of the soul, the sublimest right of human conscience." "there is no religion in the world beside the catholic religion, the revealed religion," put in hervé in a sharp voice. "all other belief is false--" "my friend," said christian interrupting his son, "i do not wish to enter into a theological discussion with you. you have of late lost your former happy disposition, you seem to mistrust us, you grow more and more reserved and taciturn, your absences from the printing shop are becoming frequent and are prolonged beyond all measure; your nature, once so pleasant and buoyant, has become irritable and sour, even to the point of rudeness towards your brother odelin before his departure for milan. besides that and since, your asperity towards your sister is ever more marked--and yet you know that she loves you dearly." at these last words a thrill ran over hervé's frame. at the mention of his sister, his physiognomy grew more intensely somber and assumed an undefinable expression. for a moment he remained silent, whereupon his voice, that sounded sharp and positive shortly before in his answers regarding religious matters, became unsteady as he stammered: "at times i am subject to fits of bad humor that i pray god to free me of. if--i have been--rude--to my sister--it is without meaning to. i entertain a strong affection for her." "we are certain of that, my child," bridget replied; "your father only mentions the circumstance as one of the symptoms of the change that we notice in you, and that so much alarms us." "in short," christian proceeded, "we regret to see you give up the company of the friends of your childhood, and no longer share the innocent pleasures that become your age." hervé's voice, that seemed so much out of his control when his sister hena was the topic, became again harsh and firm: "the friends whom i formerly visited are worldly, they are running to perdition; the thoughts that to-day engage me are not theirs." "you are free to choose your connections, my friend, provided they be honorable. i see you have become an intimate friend of fra girard, the franciscan monk--" "god sent him across my path--he is a saint! his place is marked in paradise." "i shall not dispute the sanctity of fra girard; he is said to be a man of probity, and i believe it. i must admit, however, that i would have preferred to see you form some other friendship; the monk is several years your senior; you seem to have a blind faith in him; i fear lest the fervor of his zeal may render you intolerant, and lead you to share his own excessive religious exaltation. for all that, i never reproached you for your intimacy with fra girard--" "despite anything that you could have done or said, father, i would have seen to my own salvation. god before the family." "and do you imagine, my son, that we could be opposed to your welfare?" asked bridget in an accent of affectionate reproach. "do you not know how much we love you? are not all our thoughts dictated by our attachment to you? can you doubt our affection?" "happiness lies in the faith, and the faith comes to us from heaven. there is no welfare outside of the bosom of the church." "it would have become you better to answer your mother's kind words with other terms," observed christian, as he saw his wife hurt and saddened by the harshness of hervé's words. "if your faith comes from heaven, filial love also is a celestial sentiment; may god forfend that it be weakened in your heart--in fine, may god forfend that fra girard's influence over you should tend to pervert, despite himself and despite yourself, your sense of right and wrong." "i do not understand you, father." the artisan cast a significant look at bridget, who, guessing her husband's secret thoughts, felt assailed by mortal anguish. "i shall explain myself more clearly," christian continued. "do you remember a few days ago at the shop when some of our fellow workmen expressed indignation at the traffic in indulgences?" "yes, father; and i withered the blasphemous utterances with the contempt that they deserved. indulgences open the gates of heaven." "one of our fellow workingmen loudly likened the commerce in indulgences to a theft," christian proceeded, unable completely to overcome his emotion, while bridget in vain sought to catch the eyes of her son, who, from the start of this conversation held his eyes nailed to the floor. "upon hearing so severe an opinion expressed upon the indulgences," christian added, "you, my son, shouted that all money, even if it proceeded from theft, became holy if devoted to pious works; you said so, did you not? you thereby justified a reprehensible action." "it is my conviction." after a momentary silence the artisan again resumed: "my boy, you were surely awakened to-night, as we ourselves were, by the noise of the procession. it was the procession of indulgences." "yes, father--and in order to render my prayers for the deliverance of the souls in purgatory more efficacious, i macerated myself." "the monks claim that the souls in purgatory can be ransomed by money; do they not make the claim?" "it is the doctrine of the catholic church, father. the church can not err." "hervé, let me suppose that you find on the street a purse full of gold; would you believe yourself justified to dispose of it in behalf of the souls in purgatory, without first inquiring after the rightful owner of the purse?" "i would not hesitate a minute to do what you said. i would take it to the church." christian and bridget exchanged looks of distress at this answer. their suspicions were almost confirmed. they now counted at least with hervé's frankness. convinced that all means were legitimate in order to compass the salvation of souls in pain, he would assuredly admit the theft. the artisan proceeded: "my son, we never set you the example of duplicity. particularly at this moment when we must appeal to your frankness, we shall speak without circumlocution. i have this to say to you: the fruits of your mother's laborious savings and my own have been recently purloined; the sum amounted to twenty gold crowns." hervé remained impassable and silent. "the theft was committed yesterday or the day before," pursued christian, painfully affected by his son's impassiveness. "the money was deposited in the case in our bedroom, and could have been taken away by none except a person familiar in our house." with his hands crossed over his knees and his eyes on the floor, hervé remained silent, impenetrable. "your mother and i first cudgeled our brains to ascertain who could have committed the guilty act," christian proceeded, driving the point nearer and nearer home, and he added slowly, accentuating these last words: "it then occurred to us that, seeing the theft was justifiable by your convictions--that is to say, that it was legitimate if committed for the sake of some pious work--you might--in a moment of mental aberration--have appropriated the sum for the purpose of consecrating it to the ransoming of souls in purgatory." the husband and wife awaited their son's answer with mortal anxiety. christian watched him closely and observed that, despite hervé's apparent impassiveness, a slight flush suffused his face; although the lad did not raise his eyes, he cast furtive glances at his parents. the somber and guilty glances, caught by christian, surprised and distressed him. he no longer doubted his son's guilt, he even despaired of drawing from the lad a frank admission that might somewhat have extenuated the ugly action. christian continued with a penetrating voice: "my son, i have acquainted you with the painful suspicions that weigh upon our hearts--have you no answer to make?" "father," said hervé firmly and tersely, "i have not touched your money." "he lies," thought the desolate artisan to himself; "it is our own son who committed the theft." "hervé," cried bridget with her face bathed in tears and throwing herself at the feet of her son, around whom she threw her arms, "my son, be frank--we shall not scold you! good god, we believe in the sincerity of your new convictions--they are your only excuse! you certainly must have believed that with the aid of that money, which lay idle on the shelf of the book-case, you might redeem poor souls from the tortures of purgatory. the charitable purpose of such a superstition might, aye, it is bound to, carry away a young head like yours. i repeat to you; we shall look upon that as your excuse; we shall accept the excuse, in the hope of leading you back again to more wholesome ideas of good and evil. from your point of view, so far from your action being wrongful, it must have seemed meritorious to you. why not admit it? is it shame that restrains you, my poor boy? fear not. the secret will remain with your father and me." and embracing the lad with maternal warmth, bridget added: "do not the principles in which we brought you up make us feel sure that, despite your temporary blindness, you will know better in the future? could you possibly become confirmed in dishonesty, you, my son? you who until now gave us so much cause for happiness? come, hervé, make a manly effort--tell us the truth--you will thereby change our sorrow into joy; your confession will prove your frankness and your confidence in our indulgence and tenderness. you still are silent?--not a word--you have not a word for me?" cried the wretched woman, seeing her son remaining imperturbable. "what! we who should complain, are imploring you! you should be in tears, and yet it is i alone who weep! you should be at our feet, and i am at yours! and yet you remain like a piece of icy marble! oh, unhappy child!" "mother," repeated hervé with inflexible voice without raising his eyes, "i have not touched your money." in despair at such insensibility, bridget rose and threw herself convulsively sobbing into the arms of her husband: "i am a mother to be pitied." "my son," now said christian in a severe tone, "if you are guilty--and i regret but too deeply that i fear you are--learn this: even if you should have employed the money that has been purloined from my room in what you term 'pious works,' you would not therefore be less guilty of a theft, do you understand?--a theft in all the disgraceful sense of the word! i was not mistaken! it has turned out so! by means of unworthy sophisms, your friend fra girard has perverted your one-time sense of right and wrong! oh, whatever insane or impostor monks may say to the contrary, human and divine morality will always condemn theft, whatever the disguises or hypocritical pretexts may be under which it is committed. to believe that such a disgraceful action deserves no punishment--worse yet, that it is meritorious--by reason of the fruits thereof being consecrated to charitable works, is about the most monstrous mental aberration that can ever insult the conscience of an honest man!" christian thereupon supported and led bridget in tears back towards the staircase, took up the lamp, and walked upstairs with these parting words to his son: "may heaven open your eyes, my son and inspire you with repentance!" imperturbable as ever, hervé did not seem to hear his father's last words. when the latter re-entered his own room with his wife and closed the door, the young man, who had remained in the dark, threw himself down upon his knees, picked up his instrument of discipline and began flagellating himself with savage fury. the lad smothered the cries that the pain involuntarily forced from him, and, a prey to delirious paroxysms, only murmured from time to time, with bated breath, the name of his sister hena. chapter iii. the sale of indulgences. the morning after the trying night experienced by christian and his wife, a large crowd filled the church of the dominican convent. it was a bizarre crowd. it consisted of people of all conditions. thieves and mendicants, artisans, bourgeois and seigneurs, lost women and devout old dames, ladies of distinction and plebeian women and children of all ages, elbowed one another. they were all attracted by that day's religious celebration; they crowded especially near the choir. this space was shut off by an iron railing four feet in height; it was to be the theater of the most important incidents in the ceremony. among the spectators nearest to the choir stood hervé lebrenn together with his friend fra girard. the franciscan monk was about twenty-five years of age, and of a cadaverous, austere countenance. the mask of asceticism concealed an infernal knave gifted with superior intelligence. the monk enveloped his young companion, so to speak, with a fascinating gaze; the latter, apparently a prey to profound preoccupation, bent his head and crossed his arms over his breast. "hervé," said fra girard in a low voice, "do you remember the day when in a fit of despair and terror you came to me to confession--and confessed a thing that you hardly dared admit to yourself?" "yes," answered hervé with a shudder and dropping his eyes still lower; "yes, i remember the day." "i then told you," the franciscan proceeded to say, "that the catholic church, from which you were separated from childhood by an impious education, afforded consolation to troubled hearts--even better, held out hope--still better than that, gave positive assurance even to the worst of sinners, provided they had faith. by little and little our long and frequent conversations succeeded in causing the divine light to penetrate your mind, and the scales dropped from your eyes. the faith that i then preached to you, has since filled and now overflows your soul. fasting, maceration and ardent prayer have smoothed the way for your salvation. the hour of your reward has arrived. blessed be the lord!" fra girard had hardly uttered these words when the deep notes of the organ filled with a melancholic harmony the lugubrious church into which the light of day broke only through narrow windows of colored glass. a procession that issued from the interior of the dominican cloister entered the church and marched around the aisles. the cortege was headed by four footmen clad in red, the papal livery, who held aloft four standards upon which the pontifical coat-of-arms was emblazoned; they were followed by priests in surplices surrounding a cross and chanting psalms of penitence; behind these came another platoon of papal footmen, bearing a stretcher covered with gold cloth, and in the center of which, on a cushion of crimson velvet, lay a red box containing the bull of leo x empowering the order of st. dominic to dispense indulgences. several censer-bearers walked backward before the stretcher, and stopped from time to time in order to swing their copper and silver censers from which clouds of perfumed vapor issued and circled upward. a dominican prior walked behind the stretcher clasping a large cross of red wood in his arms; this dignitary--a man in the full vigor of age, tall of stature and so corpulent that his paunch threatened to burst his frock--was the apostolic commissioner entrusted with the sale of indulgences; a heavy black beard framed in his high-colored face; the monk's triumphant gait and the haughty looks that he cast around him pointed him out as the hero of the approaching ceremony. he was followed by a long line of penitentiaries and sub-apostolic commissioners with white wands in their hands. a last squad of papal footmen, holding by leather straps a huge coffer also covered with crimson velvet and locked with three gilded clasps, closed the procession. a slit, similar to that of the poor-boxes in churches, was cut into the lid of the coffer. through it the moneys were to be dropped by the purchasers of indulgences, or by the faithful, anxious to redeem the souls in purgatory. when the procession, at the passage of which the crowd prostrated itself religiously, completed the circuit of the church, the papal footmen who bore the banners grouped them as trophies upon the main altar, before which the stretcher, covered with gold cloth, the bull, and the big coffer were processionally borne. the apostolic commissioner with the cross of red wood in his hand placed himself near the coffer; the penitentiaries ranked themselves in front of several confessionals that were set up for the occasion near the choir, and all of which bore the pontifical arms. the excitement and curiosity awakened by the procession together with the peals of the organ and the chant of the priests excited a considerable agitation in the church. by degrees quiet was restored, the kneeling faithful rose again to their feet, and all eyes turned impatiently towards the choir. hervé, who had been one of the first to prostrate himself, was among the last to rise; the lad was a prey to profound agony; perspiration bathed his now livid face; he was hardly able to breathe. turning his wandering eyes towards fra girard, he said to the monk in broken accents: "oh, if i only can rely upon your promises! the moment has arrived when i must believe. i tremble!" "oh, man of little faith!" answered the franciscan with severity and pointing to the papal commissioner, who was preparing to speak; "listen--and repent that you doubted. ask god to pardon you." the silence became profound; the dealer in indulgences deftly rolled up the sleeves of his robe, just as a juggler in the market would have done in order not to be hindered in the tumultuous motions of his performance, and pointing to the red cross which he placed beside him, he cried in a stentorian voice fit to make the glass windows of the building rattle: "in the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost, amen![ ] you see this cross, my beloved brothers? well, this cross is as efficacious as the cross of jesus christ! you will ask me, how so? my answer is that this is, so to speak, the symbol of the indulgences that our holy father has commissioned me to dispense. but what are these indulgences? you will then ask? what they are, my brothers? they are the most precious gift, the most miraculous, the most wonderful that the lord has ever bestowed upon his faithful! therefore, i say unto you--come, come to me; i shall give you letters furnished with the seal of our holy father, and thanks to these letters, my brothers--would you believe it?--not only will the sins that you have committed be pardoned, but they will give you absolution for the sins that you desire to commit!" "did you hear that?" fra girard whispered to hervé. "one can obtain absolution both for the sins that he has committed, and for the sins that he intends to commit!" "but--there--are--things--crimes and outrages," stammered hervé with secret horror, "that, may be, one can not obtain absolution for! oh, woe is me! i feel myself sliding down a fatal slope! "listen," replied the franciscan, "listen to the end; you will then understand." the mass of people that were crowded in the church received with indescribable signs of satisfaction the words uttered by the dominican seller of indulgences; especially did those whose purses were well lined hail with delight the prospect of their salvation if they but took the precaution of equipping themselves in advance with an absolution that embraced the past, the present and the future. the apostolic commissioner observed the magic effect that his words produced; in a jovial and familiar tone he proceeded to harangue the audience amidst violent contortions of both face and limbs: "now, let us have a heart-to-heart talk, my brothers; let us reason together. let us suppose that you wish to undertake a voyage into some strange country that is infested with thieves; fearing that you will be rifled of all that you carry about you before you attain the end of your journey, you do not wish to take your money with you. what do you do? you take your money to a banker, do you not? you allow him a slight profit, and he furnishes you with a draft, by means of which the money that you deposited with him is paid over to you in the strange country, upon your arrival there. do you understand me well, my beloved brothers?" "yes," answered several of the faithful; "we understand--proceed with your discourse." "miserable sinners!" replied the dominican suddenly changing his jovial tone into a thundering voice. "miserable sinners! you understand me, say you? and yet you hesitate to buy from me for the small price of a few crowns a draft of salvation! what! despite all the sins that you may render yourselves guilty of during the voyage of life, infested as that road is with diabolical temptations that are infinitely more dangerous than thieves, this draft will be paid to you in paradise in the divine money of eternal salvation by the almighty, upon whom we, the bankers of souls, have drawn in your name--and yet you hesitate to insure to yourselves at so small a cost your share of the celestial enjoyments reserved for the blissful! no! no! you will not hesitate, my brothers! you will buy my indulgences!" the dominican now proceeded to say with a resumption of familiar and even paternal solicitude. "nor is this all, my brothers; my indulgences do not save the living only, they redeem the dead! aye, the dead, be they even as hardened as lucifer himself! but, you may ask, how can your indulgences deliver the dead?" cried the merchant of salvation again shouting at the top of his voice, "how will my indulgences save the dead? can it be that you do not hear the voices of your parents, your friends, even of strangers to you--but what does that matter, seeing that you are christians?--can it be that you do not hear their frightful concert of maledictions, of groans, of gnashing of teeth which rises from the bottom of the abyss of fire, where those poor souls are writhing in the furnace of purgatory--where they writhe, waiting for the mercy of god or the pious works of man to deliver them from their dreadful tortures? can it be that you do not hear those miserable sinners, the piteous meanings of those unhappy people, who from the bottom of the yawning gulf where the flames are devouring them cry out to you: 'oh, ye stony hearts! we are enduring frightful torture! an alms would deliver us! you can give it! will you refuse to give it?' will you refuse, my brothers? no! i know you will give the alms. i know you will give it when you consider that the very instant your gold crowns drop into this trunk," (pointing to it) "crack--psitt--the soul pops out of purgatory and flies into heaven like a dove liberated from its cage! amen! empty your purses, empty your purses, my friends!" the majority of the audience before the dominican seemed little concerned about the deliverance of souls in pain. however blind their superstitious belief, it had a certain charitable side, but that side had no attraction whatever for the faithful ones who were attracted only by the expectation of being able, by means of indulgences, to give a loose, in perfect security of conscience, to whatever excesses or crimes they had in mind. a man with a gallows-bird face named pichrocholle, one of the mauvais-garçons who hired out their homicidal daggers to the highest bidder, said in a low voice to a tire-laine, another bandit, and one of the worst of his kind: "as truly as the franc-taupin whom i was speaking about to you a short time ago saved my life at the battle of marignan, i would not give six silver sous for the redemption of the souls in purgatory! oh, if i only were rich enough to purchase a good letter of absolution--'sdeath!--i would pay for it gladly and spot-cash, too! once the papal absolution is in your pocket, your hand is firmer at its work; it does not tremble when dispatching your man! with an absolution duly executed, you can defy the fork of satan on the judgment day. but by st. cadouin, what do i care for the souls in purgatory! i laugh at their deliverance! and you, grippe-minaud?" "i confess," answered the tire-laine, "i bother as little about the souls in purgatory as about an empty purse. but tell me, pichrocholle," added grippe-minaud with a pensive air, "letters of absolution are too dear for poor devils like ourselves--suppose we stole one of those blessed letters from the commissioner, would the theft be a sin?" "'sdeath! how could it be? does it not give absolution in advance? but those jewels are kept too safely to be pilfered." while the mauvais-garçon and the tire-laine were exchanging these observations, the apostolic commissioner rolled his sleeves still higher, and continued his sermon, interspersing his words with smiles or violent gestures according as the occasion demanded: "but, my brothers, you will say to me: you puff your indulgences a good deal; nevertheless there are such frightful crimes, crimes that are so abominable, so monstrous that your indulgences could never reach them! you are mistaken, my brothers. no! a thousand times no! my indulgences are so good, they are so sure, they are so efficacious, so powerful that they absolve everything--yes, everything! do you want an example? let us suppose an impossible thing--let us suppose that someone were to rape the holy mother of god--an abominable act of sacrilege!"[ ] a long murmur expressive of dreadful suspense and hope received these last words of the trafficker in indulgences; a boundless horizon was opened for all manner of the blackest and most unheard-of felonies. among others in the crowd, hervé remained hanging upon the lips of the dominican; the lad was seized with dizziness; he imagined himself oppressed by a nightmare. the hollow-sounding voice of fra girard awoke him to reality. with a triumphant accent the franciscan whispered to his disciple: "an insult to the mother of god herself would be pardoned! even such a crime would be reached by an indulgence! did you hear him? did you? an indulgence would cover even that!" a tremor ran through hervé from head to foot; he made no answer, hid his face in his hands, and feeling himself reel like an intoxicated man and even his knees to yield under him, the lad found himself obliged to lean upon the arms of the franciscan, who contemplated him with an expression of infernal joy. the merchant of indulgences had paused for a moment upon uttering his abominable supposition in order the better to assure himself of its effect; he then proceeded in a stentorian voice: "you tremble, my brothers! so much the better! that proves that you appreciate in the fulness of its horror the sacrilege which i cited as an example! now, then, the more horrible the sacrilege, all the more sovereign is the virtue of my indulgences, seeing that they give absolution therefor! yes, my brothers, whatever the sacrilege that you may commit, you will be pardoned--provided you pay for it--provided you pay bountifully for it! that is clearer than day! our lord god will have no power over you, he ceases to be god, having assigned his pardoning power to the pope. but, you may still ask, why does our holy father so bountifully distribute the boon of his indulgences? why?" repeated the dominican in a voice of deep lament; "why? alas! alas! alas! my brothers, it is in order to be enabled, thanks to the returns from the sales of these indulgences, to rebuild the basilica of st. peter and st. paul in rome with such splendor that there is none to match it in the world. indeed, none other must be like that basilica, which contains the sacred bodies of the two apostles! and this notwithstanding--would you believe it, my brothers?--the cathedral of rome is in such a state of dilapidation that the holy bones, the sacrosanct bones of st. peter and st. paul are so constantly exposed to the peltings of rain and hail, they are so soiled and dishonored by dust and vermin that they are falling to pieces!" a shudder of painful indignation ran over the faithful crowd assembled before the dominican when thus informed that the relics of the apostles were exposed to the inclemencies of the weather and the soilure of vermin as a result of the dilapidated state of the basilica of rome, while, since then, the most marvelous monument of architecture that immortalizes the genius of michael angelo, was reared to the admiration of the world. perceiving the effect made by his peroration, the dominican proceeded in a thundering voice: "no, my brothers! no! the sacred ashes of the apostles shall no longer remain in dirt and disgrace! no! indulgence has set up its throne in the church of st. dominic!" and pointing to the large coffer and beating with his fists a tattoo upon the lid, the apostolic commissioner added with the roar of a bull: "now, bring your money! bring it, good people! bring plenty! i shall put you the example of charity. i consecrate this gold piece to the redemption of souls in purgatory!" and pulling out of his pocket a half ducat which he held up glistening to the eyes of the crowd, he dropped it into the coffer through the slit in the lid, upon which he continued to strike with his fists, keeping time to his words as he cried: "fetch your money! fetch it, good people! fetch your ducats!" the front ranks of the crowd broke in response to the summons of the trafficker in indulgences and hastened to empty their purses. but the dominican held back the surging crowd with a gesture of his hand and said: "one more word, my dear brothers! do you see these confessionals decorated with the armorial bearings of the holy father? the priests who will take your confessions represent the apostolic penitentiaries of rome on the occasions of grand jubilees. all those who wish to participate in the three principal indulgences will proceed to these confessionals and will conscientiously notify the confessor of the amount of money that they are disposed to deprive themselves of in order to obtain the following favors: "the first is the absolute remission of all sins--past, present and future. "the second is freedom from participation in the works of the holy church, such as fasts, prayers, pilgrimages and macerations of all nature. "the third--listen carefully, my brothers, pay particular attention to the last words, as the saying is--this indulgence exceeds all that the most faithful believers can wish for!" "listen," whispered fra girard to hervé; "listen, and repent your having doubted the resources of the faith." "oh, i doubt no longer, and yet i hardly dare to hope," murmured the son of christian with bated breath, while the dominican proceeded to announce aloud: "the third favor, my brothers, gives you the right to choose a confessor, who, every time that you fear you are about to die, will be bound--by virtue of the letter of absolution that you will have purchased and which you will display before him--to give you absolution not only for your ordinary sins, but also for those greater crimes the remission of which is reserved to the apostolic see, to wit, bestiality, the crime against nature, parricide and incest." the dominican had hardly pronounced these words when hervé's features became frightful to behold. the lad's eyes shot fire, and a smile of the damned curled his lips as fra girard stooped down to him and whispered in his ear: "did i deceive you? the indulgence is absolute, even for incest." "finally, my brothers," the apostolic commissioner proceeded to say, "the fourth favor consists in redeeming souls from purgatory. for this favor, my brothers, it is not necessary, as for the three first ones, to be contrite of heart and to confess. no, no! it is enough if you drop your offerings in this coffer. you will thereby snatch the souls of the dead from the tortures that they are undergoing; and you will be moreover contributing towards the holy work of restoring the basilica of st. peter and st. paul at rome. now, then, my brothers," he added, thumping anew upon the coffer, "come forward with your money! come forward with your ducats! come!" upon this last exhortation the railing of the choir was thrown open. the small number of the charitably disposed who wished to deliver the souls in pain began filing before the coffer into which they dropped their offerings after making the sign of the cross; the confessionals, however, in which the pontifical penitentiaries took their seats, ready to issue letters of absolution, were immediately besieged by a mob of men and women, anxious to obtain impunity in the eyes of heaven and of their own conscience for sins ranging from the most venial up to monstrous deeds that cause nature to shudder. it was a frightful sight, the spectacle presented by the mob around these confessionals crowding to the quarry of impunity for crime. good god! your vicars order and exploit the traffic! behold human conscience upturned, shaken at its very foundation, losing even the sense of discrimination between vice and virtue! the moral sense is perverted, it is smothered by sacrilegious superstition! mankind is lashed to a vertigo of folly and evil by the assurance of impunity, feeling certain, oh, god of justice! of having you for an accomplice! souls, until then innocent, no longer recoil before any passion however execrable, the bare thought of which is a crime! does not the pope of rome absolve for all eternity, in exchange for a few gold crowns, even parricide and incest? if only its faith is strong enough the incestuous or parricidal heart knows, feels itself absolved! oh, in honor at least to the religious sentiment--the divine gift implanted in man's heart, whatever the dogma may be in which it is wrapped--there are catholic priests of austere morals who, despite their intolerance, have, in these accursed times, indignantly repudiated the monstrous idolatries and savage fetichism that even ancient paganism knew nothing of! no! no! christ, your celestial gospel is and will remain the most scathing condemnation of the horrors that are committed in your venerated name. those papal penitentiaries in the confessionals emblazoned with the pontifical arms, those new dealers in merchandise in the temple dare to sell for cash patents of salvation! alas! after a few hurried words exchanged with fra girard, hervé was one of the first to hurry to the confessionals and kneel down; he did not long remain there; those near him heard the papal penitentiary first utter a cry of surprise; silence ensued, broken by the intermittent sobs of the lad; the chinking of the money that was being counted out to the priest in the confessional announced the close of the absolutional conversation. hervé issued out of the tribunal of penitence holding a parchment with a convulsive clutch, closely followed by fra girard; he cleaved the compact mass of people, and withdrew to one of the lateral chapels; there he knelt down before a sanctuary of the virgin that a lamp illumined, and by its light read the letter of absolution that he had just bought with his father's money. the pontifical letter was couched in the following terms: may our lord jesus christ have mercy upon you [here followed a blank space into which the name of the owner of the letter was to be inserted]; may he absolve you by the virtue of the holy passion. and i, in virtue of the apostolical power in me vested, do hereby absolve you from all ecclesiastical censures, judgments and punishments that you may have deserved; furthermore _of all excesses, sins and crimes that you may have committed, however grave and enormous these may be, and whatever the cause thereof_, even if such sins and crimes be those reserved to our holy father the pope and to the apostolic see--_such as bestiality, the sin against nature, parricide and incest_. i hereby efface from you all traces of inability, all the marks of infamy that you may have drawn upon yourself on such occasions; i induct you anew as a participant of the sacraments of the church; i re-incorporate you in the community of saints; i restore you to the innocence and purity that you were in at the hour of your baptism, so that, at the hour of your death, the door through which one passes to the place of torments and pain shall be closed to you, while on the contrary, the gate that leads to the paradise of joy shall be wide open to you, _and should you not die speedily, oh, my son! this token of mercy shall remain unalterable until your ultimate end_. in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost, amen! brother john tezel, apostolic commissioner, signed by his own hand.[ ] without rising from his knees hervé frequently interrupted the reading of the document with suppressed signs of pleased and blissful astonishment. the absolution that he was now the owner of extended to the past, it covered the present, it reached the future. as fra girard called the purchaser's attention to the fact, the document bore no date and thereby extended the apostolic efficacy over all the sins, all the crimes that the holder of the indulgence might commit to the end of his days. hervé folded the parchment and inserted it into the scapulary that hung from his neck under his shirt, bowed down till his forehead touched the slab of the floor at the foot of the sanctuary and kissed it devoutly. alas! the unfortunate lad was sincere in his frightful thankfulness towards the divine power that granted him the remission. his mind being led astray by a detestable influence, he felt himself, he believed himself, absolved of all the wrongs that his delirious imagination raved over. fra girard contemplated the prostrate lad with an expression of sinister triumph. the latter suddenly rose and, as if seized with a vertigo, staggered towards the railing of the chapel. the franciscan held him back by the arm, and pointing at the image of the virgin, arrayed in a flowing robe of silver cloth studded with pearls, and her head crowned with a golden crown that glistened in the semi-darkness of the dimly-lighted sanctuary, said in a solemn voice: "behold the image of the mother of our savior, and remember the words of the apostolic commissioner. even if the horrible sacrilege that he mentioned were a feasible thing, it could be absolved by the letter that you now own. if that is so, and it may not be doubted, what then becomes of the remorse and the terrors that have assailed you during the last three months? since the day when, distracted with despair by the discovery of the frightful secret that had lain concealed in the bottom of your heart, you came to me, and yielding, despite yourself, to the irresistible instinct that whispered to you: 'only in faith will you be healed,' you confessed your trials to me--since that day you have hourly realized that your instinct guided you rightly and that my words were true. to-day you are assured of a place in paradise. hervé--do you hear me?" "i hear," and after a moment of pensiveness: "oh, celestial miracle for which, with my forehead in the dust, i rendered thanks to the mother of our savior. yes, since a minute ago, from the moment that i became the owner of this sacred schedule, my conscience has regained its former serenity, my mind is in peace, my heart is full of hope. i now only need to will and to dare--i shall will, i shall dare! mine is the bliss of paradise!" hervé uttered these words with calm conviction. he did not lie. no, his conscience was serene, his mind at peace, his heart full of hope, even the lines on his face seemed suddenly transfigured; their savage and tormented expression made room for a sort of blissful ecstasy, a slight flush again enlivened the cheeks that frequent fasts, macerations and mental conflicts had paled. the monk smiled silently at the metamorphosis; he took hervé by the arm, walked with him out of the church, and as the two stepped out upon the street said to him: "you have now entered upon the path of salvation; your faith has been tried--will you still hesitate to join the ranks of the militants, who openly preach and cause this faith to triumph, the miraculous efficacy of which you have yourself experienced this day? think of the glory of our holy mother the church." "speak not now to me of such things. my thoughts are elsewhere--they are near my sister hena." "very well; but, hervé, never forget what i have often told you, and that your modesty makes you disregard. your intelligence is exceptional; your erudition extensive; heaven has endowed you with the precious gift of a persuasive eloquence; the monastic orders, especially the one to which i belong, i say so in all humility, recruit themselves carefully with young men whose gifts give promise of a brilliant future; this is enough to tell you of what priceless value you would be to our order; you could make with us a rapid and brilliant career; you might even become the prior of our monastery. but i shall not pursue this subject; you are not listening to me; we shall take up the matter later. where are you going so fast?" "i am going back to my father, to the printing shop of master robert estienne." "be prudent--above all, no indiscretion!" "girard," answered hervé with a slightly moved voice and after a second's reflection, "i know not what may happen during the next few days; i will, and i shall dare; can i at all events count upon obtaining asylum in your cell?" "whatever the hour of the day or night may be, you may ring at the little gate of the convent, where the faithful repair who come to ask our assistance for the dying; ask the brother gateman for me; that will let you in and you will find an inviolable asylum within our walls; you will there be sheltered from all pursuit." "i thank you for the promise, and i rely upon it. adieu. think of me in your prayers." "adieu, and let me see you soon again," answered the franciscan as he followed with his eyes the rapidly retreating figure of hervé. "whatever may happen," added fra girard to himself, "he now belongs to us, body and soul. such acquisitions are precious in these days of implacable struggle against heresy. god be praised!" chapter iv. the "test of the lutherans." at the time of this narrative there rose at about the middle of st. john of beauvais street a large, new house built in the simple and graceful style recently imported from italy. upon a gilt sign, ornamented with the symbolical arms of the university of paris, and placed immediately over the door, the inscription: robert estienne, printer was painted in bold letters. heavy iron bars protected the windows of the ground floor against any bold attempts that might be contemplated by the bandits that the city was infested with, and the defensive precaution was completed by a heavy sheet of iron fastened with heavy nails to an already solid and massive door that was surmounted by a sculptured allegory of the arts and sciences, an elegant piece of work from the chisel of one of the best pupils of primaticio, a celebrated italian artist whom francis i called to france. the house belonged to master robert estienne, the celebrated printer, the worthy successor of his father in that learned industry, and one of the most erudite men of the century. profoundly versed in the latin, greek and hebrew languages, master robert estienne raised the art of printing to a high degree of perfection. passionately devoted to his art, he lavished so much care upon the publications that issued from his establishment, that not only did he himself correct the proofs of the latin, greek and hebrew works which he printed, but he furthermore stuck the revised proofs to his office door and kept them there for a certain time with the offer of a reward to whomsoever should point out an error or blemish. among the handsomest works published by master robert estienne were a bible and a new testament, both translated into french. these two productions were the admiration of the learned and the source of profound uneasiness to the sorbonne[ ] and the clergy, who felt as alarmed as irritated to see the press popularize the textual knowledge of the holy books that condemned a mass of abuses, idolatrous practices and exactions which the church of rome had for centuries been introducing into the catholic cult. robert estienne was recently wedded to perrine bade, a young and handsome woman, the daughter of another learned printer, and herself well versed in the latin. the home of robert estienne presented the noble example of those bourgeois families whose pure morals and virile domestic virtues so strongly contrasted with the prevalent corruption of those days. accused of being a partisan of the religious reformation, and both the sorbonne and parliament, both of which were bound by personal and material interests to the catholic cause, having expressed their anger at him, robert estienne would long before have been dragged to the pyre as a heretic, but for the powerful protection of princess marguerite of valois, the sister of francis i, a woman of letters, of daring spirit, a generous nature, and withal secretly inclined to the reform. the king himself, who loved the arts and letters more out of vanity and the desire to imitate the princes of italy than out of true intellectual loftiness, extended his protection to robert estienne, whom he considered an illustrious man whose glory would reflect upon his prince as a maecenas. his rare mental equipment, his talent, and, last not least, the considerable wealth that he had inherited from his father and increased by his own labor, had won for the celebrated printer numerous and bitter enemies: his fellow tradesmen were jealous of the inimitable perfection of his works: the members of the sorbonne, of the parliament and of the court, among all of whom the king and his evil genius, the cardinal and chancellor duprat, distributed the goods confiscated from the heretics, had many times and oft expected to be about to enrich themselves with the plunder of robert estienne's establishment. but ever, thanks to the potent influence of princess marguerite, the printer's adversaries had remained impotent in their machinations against him. nevertheless, knowing but too well how capricious and precarious royal favor is, robert estienne was ever ready for the worst with the serenity of the wise man and the clear conscience of a man of honor, while the affection of his young wife was a source of inexhaustible support in his struggle with the evil-minded. the workshop of master robert estienne occupied the ground floor of the house. his artisans, all carefully selected by himself, and almost all of whom were the sons of workmen whom his father had employed before him, were worthy of the confidence that he reposed in them. more than once did they have to repel with arms the assaults of fanatical bandits, egged on by the monks, who pointed at the printing shop as a hot-bed of diabolical inventions that should be demolished and burned down. the populace, ignorant and credulous, rushed upon the house of robert estienne, and but for the courage displayed by the defenders of the establishment, the place would have been looted. due to such possibilities many employers felt under the necessity of building around themselves a sort of bodyguard composed of their own workmen. the famous goldsmith benvenuto cellini, whom francis i invited from florence to settle in paris, was in such constant dread of the jealousy of the french and italian artists, that he never went out upon the street without being accompanied by several of his pupils, all armed to the teeth. and not long ago he had sustained a regular siege in the little castle of neste of which the king had made him a present. the fray lasted two full days; victory remained with benvenuto and his private garrison; and francis i was highly amused at the occurrence. such is the order that reigns in the city, such the security enjoyed by the citizens in these sad days. robert estienne's establishment resembled an arsenal as much as it did a printing shop. pikes, arquebuses and swords hung near the presses, the composers' cases or the stone tables. although it was night, christian remained on this evening at the shop; he remained behind upon his master's request, and was waiting for him. the artisan's face, which had borne the marks of worry since the conversation that he had with his son hervé on the preceding night, now looked cheerful. when hervé returned from the church of st. dominic, long after the customary hour for work to be begun at master estienne's shop, and saw his father surprised and displeased at the renewed absence from work, he said hypocritically: "please do not judge me by appearances; be sure, father, that i shall again be worthy of you--you will pardon me a fatal slip. i begin to realize the danger of the influence that i was blindly yielding to." saying this, the lad had hastened to make good the lost time, and diligently set to work. shortly after, the conversation among the workingmen turned accidentally upon the sale of indulgences, which they condemned with renewed energy. so far from violently taking up the cudgels for the nefarious traffic, as he had done on previous occasions, hervé remained silent and even looked confused. christian drew favorable conclusions from his son's embarrassment. "our last night's conversation must have borne good fruit," thought the artisan to himself; "the poor boy's eyes must have been opened; he must have realized that fanaticism was driving him down into an abyss. patience! the principles in which i brought him up will win the upper hand. i may now hope for the better." when towards the close of the day's work he was notified by master estienne that he wished to speak with him, and was asked to remain behind, christian told his son to inform bridget of the reason of his anticipated delay, in order that she be not alarmed at not seeing him home at the usual hour. when he was finally left alone at the shop, he continued the paging of a latin book by the light of a lamp. in the midst of this work he was interrupted by one of his friends named justin, a pressman in the shop. some urgent presswork had kept him in a contiguous room. surprised at finding christian still at work, justin said: "i did not expect to find you here so late, dear comrade. the hour for rest has sounded." "master estienne sent me word asking that i wait for him after the shop closed. he wishes to speak with me." "that fits in with my plans. i had meant to call at your house this evening and propose a trip for to-morrow to montmartre, in order to visit the place that you know of--the more i think of the matter, the more convinced am i that we could select no better place for our purpose." "i am inclined to believe you after all the details that you have given me upon the matter. but are you quite certain that the place offers us all the requisite guarantees of secrecy and safety?" "in order to convince ourselves fully upon the matter, i wished to examine the place once more with you. it is a long time since i was there. maybe the place is no longer what it was. well, shall we make the investigation to-morrow evening?" "yes; i think it is high time for us to set to work, and organize our army, justin! i can see no other means to combat our powerful enemies; they seem almost all-powerful. from day to day they become more threatening. on their side they have force, numbers, power, audacity, the judges, the trained soldiers, the priests, the jailers and executioners, moss-grown tradition, the ferocious fanaticism of a populace whose mind is poisoned and who are misled by the monks. and we, what have we? this," added christian pointing to a printing press that stood in the center of the shop, "that instrument, that lever of irresistible force--thought--the mind! courage, my friend! let us, humble soldiers of reason, know how to wait. the printing press will change the face of the earth--and all our casqued, mitred and crowned tyrants will have seen their day! the printing press will be the weapon of emancipation!" "as well as you, christian, i have faith in that future, whether it be near or far away. thought, subtle as light itself, will penetrate everywhere. the midnight darkness of ignorance will be dispelled, and freedom will dart its rays upon all. let us to work, christian. the moment we shall have chosen our place, we will put our projects into execution. i shall be at your house to-morrow evening. the moon will be up late; her light will guide us; and--" here justin interrupted himself saying: "here is our master; i shall leave you. until to-morrow! i shall be promptly on time." "till to-morrow," answered christian as his friend left by a door of the shop that opened upon a deserted side street. master robert estienne, a man of about thirty years of age, was of middle size, and of a firm, kind and at once serious physiognomy. his eyes sparkled with intelligence; a few premature lines furrowed his wide forehead; study and concentration of mind had begun to thin out his hair. he wore a coat and puffed-out hose of black taffeta; a white crumpled cap sat upon his head, and seemed fastened under his chin by a light and closely cropped beard that ended in a point. "christian," said robert estienne, "i have a service to ask of you, a great service." "speak, master estienne; you know the feelings that i entertain for your house and all that concerns you; i am as devoted to you as my father was to yours. if it pleases god," added the artisan smothering a sigh, "it will be so with my son towards yours." "these long-continued relations between our two families honor them both, christian. it is for that reason that i do not hesitate to ask a great service from you. this is the matter: as you know, my house is a thorn in the side of my enemies; without mentioning the assault that it had to sustain against the wretched fanatics whom the monks aroused against it, the place is constantly spied upon. the persecutions redouble in number and vehemence against all those who are suspected of favoring the religious reformation, especially since printed placards violently hostile to the church of rome were posted over night in the streets of paris. john morin, the criminal lieutenant and worthy instrument of cardinal-chancellor duprat, who keeps himself informed by the miserable spy who goes under the name of gainier, keeps paris in a state of terror through his police searches. only the other day he issued an order by which the sergeants of the gendarmes are empowered at all hours of the day or night to search from cellar to garret the residence of whomsoever is accused of heresy. i am among these. despite the protection of princess marguerite, it may happen that, at any moment, my domicile is invaded by the lackeys of duprat's lieutenant." "that is unfortunately true; your enemies are powerful and numerous." "well, now, christian, a man whom i love like my own brother, an honorable man, foe to the priests, and proscribed by them, has asked me for asylum. he is here since last evening, in hiding. i am in constant apprehension of having my house searched, and my friend's place of refuge discovered. his life is at stake." "great god! i can understand your uneasiness. your friend is, indeed, in great peril." "driven to this extremity, i determined to turn to you. it occurred to me that your happy obscurity saves you from the espionage that pursues me. could you extend hospitality to my friend for two or three days, and take him this very evening to your house? you would be running no risk." "with all my heart!" "i shall never forget this service," said master robert estienne, warmly pressing the artisan's hand; "i knew i could count upon your generosity." "all i wish to remind you of, sir, is that the asylum is as humble as it is safe." "the proscribed man has for several months been accustomed to travel from city to city; more than once, the generous apostle has spent the night in the woods and the day in some dark cavern. any place of refuge is good to him." "that being so, i have this proposition to make to you. i live, as you know, on the exchange bridge; there is a garret under the roof of the house; it is so very low one can hardly stand in it; but it is sufficiently ventilated by a little window that opens upon the river. to-morrow morning, after my son and i shall have left the house to come to the shop, my wife--i shall have to take her into the secret, but i answer for her as for myself--" "i know it, bridget deserves your full confidence; you may tell her everything." "well, then, to-morrow morning, after we shall have left the house, my wife will send my daughter on some errand or other, and will, during her absence, transport to the garret a mattress, some bed linen and whatever else may be necessary in order to render the refuge bearable. to-night, however, our guest will have to resign himself to a simple quilt for bedding; but a night is soon over--" "that matters little. but how is he to be taken to your house to-night without the knowledge of your family? i know your domestic habits. your wife and children are now waiting for you to take supper in the ground floor room, the door of which opens on the bridge. they will all see you come in with the stranger. then also, it occurs to me, does not your wife's brother, the old franc-taupin, join you almost every evening at meals? that is an additional difficulty to be overcome." "that is true; and i do not intend to take him into the secret, although his faults--and these are numerous with the poor soldier of adventure--are wholly counterbalanced in my eyes by his devotion to my family; he fairly worships his sister and her children." "how, then, shall we manage this evening?" "i shall take the proscribed man to my house as an old friend whom i met and invited to supper. as customary, my son and daughter will withdraw to their rooms after the meal, and my wife, her brother the franc-taupin, if he calls this evening, and i will remain alone with my guest. i shall then request my wife's brother to go out for a pot of wine in order that we close the day pleasantly. the wine is sold at a tavern near the wharf and at some little distance from my house. i shall profit by the franc-taupin's absence in order to apprize my wife in a few words of the secret; my guest will go up into the garret: and when my brother-in-law returns i shall tell him that our guest feared it would grow too late, and left, requesting me to present his regards to the franc-taupin and bid him adieu. as you see, the matter can be safely and secretly arranged." "yes, very well. but, christian, there is a matter that i must seriously call your attention to. it is not an impossible thing that, despite all your precautions, the proscribed man may be discovered in your house by the police of duprat's lieutenant; it is my duty to remind you that, in such an event, you run the risk of imprisonment, perhaps even of a severer, more terrible punishment; remember that justice can not be relied upon in these days. the ecclesiastical tribunals are implacable; it is with them--torture or death." "master estienne, do you think me accessible to fear?" "no, i know your devotion to me. but i wish you to feel sure that were it not for the strictness of the surveillance that is kept over my house, and that renders it impossible for me to offer asylum to the friend whom i entrust to you, i would not then expose you to dangers that i would otherwise be anxious myself to brave. i first thought of hiding him in my cottage at st. ouen; that country-seat is secluded and far enough from the village. but for several reasons that i am not yet free to communicate to you, my friend should remain hidden in the very heart of paris. i repeat it, christian: if, however improbable, it should betide that you are put to trouble, if harm should come to you by reason of the service that you will have rendered me, your wife and your children will find protection and support in my family." "master estienne, i shall never forget that my father, laboring under the shameless calumnies of the successor of the printer john saurin, would have himself and his family died of hunger and despair but for the generous assistance of your father. whatever i may do, never could i pay that debt of gratitude to you and yours. my modest havings and myself are at your disposal." "my father acted like an upright man, that was all; but if you absolutely insist upon considering yourself in our debt, your noble assistance in this instance will be to us one more proof of your gratitude. but i have not yet told you all, worthy christian. yielding no doubt to a feeling of delicacy, you have not asked me in behalf of whom i solicited asylum with you." "the proscribed man is worthy of your friendship; he is an apostle, master estienne; need i know more?" "without imparting to you a secret that is not mine, i feel free to inform you that this proscribed man is the bravest of the apostles of the reformation. i owe only to your personal attachment the service that you render to me, seeing that, in granting asylum to my friend, you are not yet aware whether you are in accord with his ideas. your generous action is dictated by your affection towards me and mine; in my turn, i now contract a debt of gratitude towards you and yours. and once upon this subject, christian," added master estienne in penetrating accents, "allow me frankly to state my thoughts to you with respect to your son. we have recently talked more than once upon the worry that he caused you; i regret the circumstance doubly; i expected great things from hervé. he has developed a variety of aptitudes in other directions besides the mechanical part of our art in which he begins to excel. the lad's precocious knowledge, his exceptional eloquence--all these qualities ranked him in my eye among that small number of men who are destined to shine in whatever career they embrace. finally, that which enhanced with me hervé's intellectual powers was the goodness of his heart and the straightforwardness of his character. but his habits have latterly become irregular; his one-time affectionate, open and communicative nature has undergone a change. i have hitherto refrained from letting him perceive the grief that his conduct caused me. in the midst of all this i imagine he has preserved some love and respect for me. would you authorize me to have a serious and paternal conversation with him? it may have a salutary effect." "i thank you, master estienne, for your kind offer. i am glad to be able to say that i have reasons to think that since to-day my son has turned to better thoughts; that a sudden and happy change has come over him, because--" christian could not finish his sentence. madam estienne, a handsome young woman of a sweet and grave countenance, precipitately entered the shop and handing to her husband an open letter said to him in a moved voice: "read, my friend; as you will see, there is not a minute to lose;" and turning aside to christian: "can we count with you?" "absolutely and in all things, madam." "there is no longer any doubt!" cried master estienne after he read the letter. "our house will be searched, this very night perhaps; they are on my friend's tracks." "i shall run for him," said madam estienne; "christian and he will go out by the side street. i think the house is watched on the st. john of beauvais street side." "master estienne," said the artisan to his employer, "in order to make assurance doubly sure i shall go down to the end of the side alley and reconnoiter whether the passage is clear; i shall explore it thoroughly." "go, my friend, you will find us in the small yard with the proscribed man." christian left the shop, crossed the small yard, drew the bolt of a door that opened into the side alley and stepped out. he found the lane completely deserted, from end to end not a soul was in sight. although it was night there was light enough to see a long distance ahead. having convinced himself that the issue was safe, christian returned to the door of the yard where he found master estienne pressing in his own the hand of a man of middle size and clad in plain black. "master estienne," said christian to his employer, "the alley is deserted; we can go out without being seen by anyone." "adieu, my friend," said master estienne in a trembling voice to the proscribed man. "you may rely upon your guide as upon me. follow him and observe all that he may recommend to you for your safety. may heaven protect your precious life!" "adieu! adieu!" answered the unknown who seemed to be no less moved than the printer; saying which he followed christian. after issuing from the alley and walking for a while in the direction of the exchange bridge, the two men arrived at a gate which they had to pass in order to cross the cour-dieu. at that place their progress was delayed by a compact mass of people who were gathered near the gate, in the center of which was a turnstile intended to keep horses and wagons from entering the square. many patrolmen were seen among the crowd. "what is the meaning of this gathering?" inquired christian from a man of athletic carriage, with the sleeves of his shirt turned up, a blood-bespattered apron and a long knife by his side. "st. james!" exclaimed the butcher in a tone of pious satisfaction; "the reverend franciscan fathers of the cour-dieu have been struck by a good idea." "in what way?" again christian asked. "what is their idea? inform us of what is going on." "the good monks have placed upon the square in front of the door of their convent a lighted chapel at the foot of a beautiful station of the holy virgin, and a mendicant monk stands on either side of the statue, with a club in one hand and a purse in the other--" "and what is the purpose of the chapel and the mendicant monks and their clubs?" "st. james!" and the butcher crossed himself; "thanks to that chapel the lutheran dogs can be discovered as they pass by." "how can they be recognized?" "if they pass before the chapel without kneeling down at the feet of the holy virgin, and without dropping a piece of money into the purse of the mendicant monks, it is a proof that the painim are heretics--they are immediately set upon, they are slain, they are torn to shreds. listen! do you hear that?" indeed, at that moment, piercing shrieks half drowned by an angry roar of many voices went up from the interior of the cour-dieu. as the turnstile allowed a passage to only one person at a time, the approaches of the square were blocked by a crowd that swelled from moment to moment and that was swayed with the ardent desire to witness the _test of the lutherans_, as the process was called. every time that the cries of a victim ceased, the clamor subsided, and the mob awaited the next execution. the butcher resumed: "that painim has ceased to scream--his account is settled. may the fire of st. anthony consume those laggards who are getting so slowly through the gate! i shall not be able to witness the killing of a single one of those accursed fellows!" "my friend," said the mysterious companion of christian to the butcher, "those lutherans must be very great criminals, are they not? i ask you because i am a stranger here--" a score of voices charitably hastened to answer the unknown man, who, together with christian was so completely hemmed in by the crowd that they had no choice but patiently to wait for their turn at the turnstile. "poor man, where do you come from?" said some, addressing the unknown. "what! you ask whether the lutherans are criminals? why, they are infamous brigands!" and thereupon they vied with one another in citing the felonies that the reformers were guilty of: "they read the bible in french!" "they do not confess!" "they do not sing mass!" "they believe neither in the pope, nor the saints, nor in the virginity of mary, nor in holy relics!" "nor in the blood of our savior!--nor in the drop of milk of his holy mother!--nor in the miraculous tooth of st. loup!" "and what do those demons substitute for the holy mass? abominable incantations and orgies!" "yes, yes--it is so!" "i, who now speak to you, knew the son of a tailor who was once caught in the net of those ministers of the devil. i'll tell you what he saw--he told me all about it the next day. the lutherans assembled at night--at midnight--in a large cave, men, young girls and women to celebrate their _luthery_. a rich bourgeois woman, who lived on the same street with the tailor attended the incantation with her two daughters. when all the canting hypocrites were assembled, their priest donned a robe of goatskin with a headgear of spreading oxhorns; he then took a little child, spread the poor little fellow upon a table lighted by two tall wax candles, and, while the other heretics sang their psalms in french, interspersed with magical invocations, their priest cut the child's throat!" "the assassins! the monsters! the demons!" "the priest of lucifer thereupon gathered the child's blood in a vase and sprinkled the assembly with the warm gore! he then tore out the child's heart and ate it up! that closed the celebration of the luthery." "holy st. james, and shall we not bleed these sons of satan to the last man?" cried the butcher, carrying his hand to his knife, while the proscribed man exchanged significant glances with christian and remarked to those standing near him: "can such monstrosities be possible? could such things have happened?" "whether they are possible! why, brother st. lawrence-on-the-gridiron, a reverend carmelite who is my confessor, told me, marotte, there never was an assembly of those heretics held without at least one or two little children being sacrificed." "jesus, god! everybody knows that," pursued the first narrator; "the tailor's son that i am talking about witnessed the heretical orgy; he saw everything with his own eyes; then, after the lutherans had been sprinkled with the child's blood as a sort of baptism, their priest spoke up and said: 'now, take off your clothes, and pray to god in our fashion. long live hell and the luthery!' as soon as he said this, he put out the two wax candles, whereupon all the he and she canting hypocrites, with as much clothing on as adam and eve, men, women and young girls, all thrown helter-skelter in the dark--well, you understand--it is an abomination!"[ ] "what a horror! malediction upon them!" "mercy! may god protect us from such heretics!" "confession! such infamies portend the end of the world!" "brother st. lawrence-on-the-gridiron, the reverend carmelite friar, my confessor, told me, marotte, that all the lutheries closed in the same fashion. the good father felt so indignant that he gave me accurate details upon the devilish heretics; they were details that made my cheeks burn red and hot like a piece of coal." these snatches of reports, that summed up the stupid and atrocious calumnies spread about by the monks against the reformers, were interrupted by new shrieks and vociferations that went up from the cour-dieu. listening with secret disgust and silent indignation to the calumnious indignities that were huckstered about by an ignorant and credulous populace, christian and the unknown man in his charge had followed the stream of the crowd, and presently found themselves under the vault of the gate that led to the square, whence they could take in at a glance what was happening there. a sort of altar lighted with wax candles rose in front of the main entrance to the franciscan convent; a life-sized statue of the virgin wrought in wood and gorgeously attired in a robe of gold brocade and with her face painted like a picture, surmounted the altar. several franciscan monks, among whom christian recognized fra girard were stationed near the lighted chapel. two of them, holding large velvet purses in their hands, were posted one on either side of the statue. a large crowd of tattered men and women, of cynical, repulsive or brutal countenances, all armed with clubs and grouped near the door of the convent, stood waiting for the moment when, at a signal from the monks, they were to rush upon the ill-starred passer-by who was designated as suspected of heresy. each passer-by had inevitably to cross the square at only a slight distance from the statue of the virgin. if they knelt down before it and dropped their alms into the purse of the mendicant friars, no danger threatened them. but if they failed to fulfil this act of devotion, the ferocious band that stood in waiting would be let loose at the signal from the monks, and would rush upon the lutheran, beat him with their sticks, and not infrequently leave him lying dead upon the square. all the persons who were just ahead of christian and the unknown man proceeded straight to the altar, and either out of fear or out of piety knelt down before the image of the virgin and then rose and deposited their offerings in the purse held out by the franciscans. a man, still young but frail and short of stature, behind whom christian stood, said to himself in an undertone just as he was about to thread the turnstile and emerge into the square: "i am a catholic, but by the blood of god! i prefer to be cut to pieces rather than submit to such extortion. may the devil take the monks!" "you will be wrong," said christian to him in a low voice. "i revolt as much as you at the indignity. but what is to be done against force? submit to the ignominy." "i shall protest at the peril of my life! such excesses dishonor religion," the man answered christian, and stepping out of the gate into the square with a firm step, he crossed the place without turning his head in the direction of the altar. hardly, however, had he passed by when the tattered mob who stood near the monks, ready at the latters' beck, rushed forward in pursuit of the unhappy fellow; they overtook him, surrounded, and bawled at him: "heretic!" "lutheran!" "he insults the image of the mother of the savior!" "down on your knees!" "the canting hypocrite!" "down on your knees!" "death to the heretic!" while these fanatics surrounded their victim, christian said to his companion: "let us profit by the tumult to escape from these ferocious beasts; unfortunately it were idle to seek to snatch that senseless but stout-hearted man from the clutches of his assailants." christian and the unknown man in turn stepped out of the gate into the square and were hurriedly walking towards the opposite issue without stopping at the altar when, being caught sight of by the monks, the latter cried out: "there go two other heretics! they are trying to escape without kneeling before the holy virgin! stop them! bring them back and make them empty their purses!" the voices of the franciscans did not reach the ears of the demoniac pack, greedy as it was for its prey; they emitted savage yells as they beat to death, not a heretic, but a catholic, whose sin consisted in refusing to submit to an adoration imposed upon him in a brutal manner, and which he otherwise would cheerfully have complied with. after the unhappy fellow had bravely defended himself with his cane, the only weapon that he carried, he was finally overwhelmed by numbers and fell livid, bleeding, and almost unconscious upon the pavement. a horrid-looking shrew seized him by the hair and while she dragged the almost lifeless body towards the altar other dastards from the dregs of the mob struck him in the face with their feet. "mercy!" cried the unhappy fellow in a faint voice. "jesus!--my god!--have pity upon me!--they are murdering a good catholic!" these were the brave fellow's last words. his voice was soon heard no more. the butcher with whom christian had exchanged a few words ran towards and joined the assassin mob. he piously knelt down before the statue of the virgin, then rose, drew his knife, and brandishing it in the air cried: "st. james! let me bleed the damned lutheran! it will be worth an indulgence to me! you know, bleeding is my profession!" the sanguinary sally was received with loud outbursts of laughter; room was made for the butcher near the bleeding body; he squatted upon its still palpitating chest, slashed his knife through the prostrate man's throat, cut the head from the trunk, seized it by the hair, and, holding up the shocking trophy to the gaze of the mob, he cried with wild ecstasy: "the heretic dog would not bow down before the mother of the savior--he shall now plant his forehead on the pavement at her feet!" so said, so done. followed by the demented band at his heels, the butcher ran back to the altar, holding the livid head in his hands, red and streaming with the warm blood of the victim; he knelt down himself, and slammed the head face down upon the ground at the feet of mary, amidst the savage acclaim of his fellow assassins, all of whom piously threw themselves down upon their knees like himself. "oh, monsieur, this is frightful!" murmured christian suffocating for breath as his companion and he stepped out of the square. "to think that such horrors are perpetrated in the name of the benign mother of christ! oh, the wretches, as stupid as they are bloodthirsty!" "ignorance, misery and fanaticism!--that is their excuse. let us not blame these unhappy people; they are what the monks have made them," answered the unknown with a bitter and desolate smile. "oh, these monks, these monks! when will society be finally purged of the infernal breed!" christian and his companion hastened their steps towards the artisan's house, nor dared they to turn and look behind. chapter v. monsieur john. "fear not; i have a certain means of regaining the good graces of my family"--such were among the last words said by hervé to fra girard as they stepped out of the church of st. dominic, where he purchased the letter of indulgence that absolved him in advance from all his future misdeeds. hervé was, alas! true to his promise. back long in advance of his father that evening under the paternal roof, he pursued his plan of infernal hypocrisy, and succeeded in awaking in his mother's breast the same hopes for the better that he awoke in the breast of christian. seeing hervé pray her feelingly to suspend her judgment with regard to himself on the theft that he was suspected of; seeing him admit that, however late, he now realized the fatal effect of a dangerous influence over himself; finally, seeing her son respond with unexpected effusiveness to the affectionate greeting of his sister, bridget said to herself, as christian had done: "let us hope; hervé is returning to better sentiments; the painful conversation of last night has borne its fruit; our remonstrances have had a salutary effect upon him; the principles that we have inculcated in him, will regain their sway. let us hope!" with a heart, now as brimful of joy as it was of distress on the previous evening, the happy mother busied herself with preparing the evening meal. no less joyful than bridget at the return of hervé's tenderness, hena was radiant with happiness, and the sentiment enhanced her beauty. barely in her seventeenth year, lithesome and generously built, the young girl wore her golden-blonde hair braided in two strands coiled over her head and crowning her blooming cheeks. the gentleness of her features, that were of angelic beauty, would have inspired the divine raphael sanzio. white as a lily, she had a lily's chaste splendor; candor and kindness stood out clear in the azure of her eyes. often did those eyes rest upon that naughty yet so dearly beloved brother, of whom the poor child had feared she was disliked. seated beside him, and engaged at some needle-work, she now felt herself, as in former days, filled with sweet confidence in hervé, while the latter, once more affectionate and jovial as ever before, entertained himself pleasantly with his sister. by a tacit accord, neither made any allusion to the recent and painful past, and chatted as familiarly as if their fraternal intimacy had never suffered the slightest jar. despite his self-control and profound powers of dissimulation, hervé was ill at ease; he felt the necessity of speaking, and sought distraction in the sound of words in order to escape the obsession of his secret thoughts. he rambled at haphazard from one subject to the other. brother and sister were thus engaged as bridget absented herself for a moment on the floor above in pursuit of some household duty. "hervé," the young girl was saying to her brother, thoughtfully, "your account interests me greatly. how old would you take that monk to be?" "i could not tell; perhaps twenty-five." "he had a face that was at once handsome, sad and benign, did he not? his beard is of a somewhat lighter hue than his auburn hair; his eyes are black, and he is very pale; he has a sympathetic countenance." while thus chatting with her brother, hena proceeded to sew and could not notice the expression of surprise that hervé's face betrayed. his feelings notwithstanding, he answered: "that is a very accurate description. one must have observed a person very attentively in order to preserve so life-like a picture of him. but what induces you to believe that the monk in question is the handsome auburn-haired monk, whose picture you have just sketched?" "why, did you not just tell me, dear brother, that you recently witnessed a touching action of which a monk was the author? well, it struck me that probably he was the friar that i described. but proceed with the story." "but who is that monk? where did you see him? how did you happen to know him?" hervé interrogated his sister in short, set words, inspired by an ill-suppressed agonizing feeling of jealousy. the naïve girl, however, mistaking the sentiment that prompted her brother's question, answered him merrily: "oh! oh! seigneur hervé, you are very inquisitive. first finish your story; i shall tell you afterwards." affecting a pleasant tone, hervé replied as he cast upon his sister a sharp and penetrating look: "oh! oh! mademoiselle hena, you twit me with being inquisitive, but, it seems to me, that you are no less so. never mind, i shall accommodate you. well, as i was saying, when passing this morning by the porch of st. merry's church, i saw a crowd gathered, and i inquired the reason. i was answered that a babe, six months old at the most, had been left over night at the portal of the church." "poor little creature!" "at that moment a young monk parted the crowd, took up the child in his arms, and with tears in his eyes and his face marked with touching compassion, he warmed with his breath the numb hands of the poor little waif, wrapped the baby carefully in one of the long sleeves of his robe, and disappeared as happy as if he carried away a treasure. the crowd applauded, and i heard some people around me say that the monk belonged to the order of the augustinians and was called brother st. ernest-martyr." "why 'martyr'--and he so charitable?" "you do not seem to know, sister, that when taking orders a monk renounces his family names and assumes the name of some saint--such as st. peter-in-bonds, or st. sebastian-pierced-with-arrows, or st. lawrence-on-the-gridiron, or st. anthony-with-the-pig--" "oh, what mournful names! they make one shudder. but the last one is really grotesque." "well," proceeded hervé, without detaching his prying eyes from hena, "brother st. ernest-martyr was hastily walking away with his precious burden when i heard someone remark: "'i am quite sure the good monk will take the poor little one to mary la catelle'--" "i thought so!" exclaimed hena ingenuously; "i knew it was he; it is my monk!" "how, your monk?" asked bridget smiling, her heart dilating with joy as she descended the stairs and saw her son and daughter engaged in cordial conversation as was their former wont. "of what monk are you talking, hena, with so much unction?" "do you not know, mother, la catelle and her school? do you remember that charming woman?" "certainly, i do. i remember the young widow mary la catelle. the school that she founded for poor children is a work of touching charity, which, however, also owes a good deal to john dubourg, the linen draper of st. denis street, and to another rich bourgeois, monsieur laforge. they both generously sustain la catelle and her sister martha, the wife of poille, the architect, who shares with her the maternal cares that she bestows upon poor orphans whom she takes up in her house--a place which has justly earned the name of 'the house of god'." "do you remember, mother," hena proceeded with her reminiscences, "that when we went to the house of la catelle, it happened to be school hour?" "yes, an augustinian monk was instructing a group of children who stood around him or sat at his feet, and some were seated on his knees." "well mother, i listened to the monk as he was explaining to the children the parable of: 'wicked are they who live on the milk of a sheep, who clothe themselves in her fleece, and yet leave the poor beast without pasture.' he uttered upon that subject words imprinted with such sweet and tender charity, and yet so easy for the intelligence of children to grasp, that tears came to my eyes." "and i shared your sister's emotion, hervé," replied bridget, addressing her son, who, silent and absorbed in his own thoughts, had dropped out of the conversation. "you can not imagine with what charming benignity the young monk instructed those little ones; he measured his words to their intelligence, in order to indoctrinate them with the simple and pure evangelical morality. mary la catelle assured us that his knowledge was no less than his virtue." two raps at the street door from without interrupted the conversation. "at last!" said bridget to hervé. "this is surely your father. the streets are not quite safe at night. i prefer to see him indoors. i hardly think we shall see my brother this evening. the hour for supper is long gone by," observed bridget, stepping towards her husband, to whom hervé had opened the house door. christian came in accompanied with the unknown personage, a young man of, however, a striking countenance by reason of its expression of deliberate firmness. his black eyes, instinct with intelligence and fire, were set so close that they imparted a singular character to his pale and austere visage. at the sight of the unexpected visitor bridget made a gesture of surprise. "dear wife," said christian, "i have brought monsieur john along for supper. he is an old friend whom i accidentally met to-day." "he is welcome to our house," answered bridget, while the two children looked at the stranger with curiosity. as was her custom, hena embraced her father affectionately; but hervé, looking at him with a timid and repentant eye, seemed doubtful whether to follow his sister's example. the artisan opened his arms to his son and whispered in his ear as he pressed him to his heart: "i have not forgotten your fair promises of this morning," and turning to his guest: "this is my family--my daughter is an embroiderer, like her mother; my eldest son is, like myself, a printer in monsieur robert estienne's workshop; my second son, who is apprenticed to an armorer, is now traveling in italy. thanks to god our children are wise and industrious, and deserve to be loved as my worthy wife and i love them." "may the blessing of god continue upon your family," answered monsieur john in an affectionate voice, while hena and her brother arranged the covers and set upon the table the dishes that had been prepared for the family meal. "bridget," said christian, "where is your brother?" "i had just been wondering at his absence, my friend; i would feel uneasy, if it were not that i rely upon his bravery, his long sword--in short, upon his general appearance, which is not exactly attractive to sneaking night thieves," added bridget with a smile. "neither tire-laines nor guilleris will be very anxious to attack a franc-taupin. we need not wait for him; if he comes he will know how to make up for lost time at table, and will take double mouthfuls." the family and their guest sat down to table, with monsieur john placed between christian and bridget. addressing her, he said: "such order and exquisite propriety reigns in this house, madam, that the housekeeper deserves to be complimented." "household duties are a pleasure to me and to my daughter, monsieur; order and cleanliness are the only luxuries that we, poor people, can indulge in." "_sancta simplicitas!_" said the stranger, and he proceeded with a smile: "it is a good and old motto--holy simplicity. you will pardon me, madam, for having spoken in latin. it was an oversight on my part." "by the way of latin," put in the artisan, addressing his wife, "did lefevre drop in during the day?" "no, my friend; i am as much surprised as yourself at the increasing rareness of his calls; formerly few were the days that he did not visit us; perhaps he is sick, or absent from paris. i shall inquire after him to-morrow." "lefevre is a learned latinist," said christian, addressing monsieur john; "he is one of my oldest friends; he teaches at the university. he is a rough and tough mountaineer from savoy. but under his rude external appearance beats an excellent heart. we think very highly of him." christian was about to proceed when he was interrupted by the following ditty that came from the street, and was sung by a sonorous voice: "a franc-taupin had an ash-tree bow, all eaten with worms, and all knotted its cord; his arrow was made out of paper, and plumed, and tipped at the end with a capon's spur. _derideron, vignette on vignon! derideron!_" "it is uncle! his favorite song announces him!" said hena joyfully, as she rose to open the house-door. chapter vi. the franc-taupin. josephin, bridget's brother, surnamed tocquedillon the franc-taupin, stepped into the room. a soldier of adventure since his fifteenth year, he had run away from the paternal home, and soon thereafter enrolled with the franc-taupins, a sort of irregular militia, whose duty it was to dig the trenches intended to cover the approaches of the assailants at the siege of a city. these mercenary soldiers were named "franc-taupins" because, like the franc archers, they were "frank" or free from taxation, and because their underground work bore great resemblance to that of the _taupe_--mole. once out of their trenches, the saying was, the franc-taupins displayed but little courage. whether justly or unjustly, the poltroonery of the franc-taupin became proverbial, as evidenced by the favorite song of bridget's brother. this personage, however, was anything but a poltroon. just the reverse. after he had twice or three times turned up the earth at as many sieges, he disdained to belong to a corps of such cowardly renown, and enrolled in another irregular militia, one that stood in general dread--the adventurers or pendards, of whom a contemporaneous writer drew the following and, unfortunately, but too truthful picture: "what a vagabond, flagitious, murderous set are these pendards! they are deniers of god, ravishing wolves, violators of women, devourers of the people! they drive the good man out of his house, empty his pot of wine and sleep in his bed. their garb matches their disorderly habits. they wear shirts with long sleeves, open in front and exposing their hirsute chests; their streaked hose do not cover their flesh; their calves are left bare and they carry their socks in their belts for fear of wearing them out. poultry trembles in the hen-coops at their approach, and so does bacon in the pantry. brawling, roistering, audacious, ever with their mouths wide open, they love nothing better than to guzzle in company the wine that they have jointly stolen." despite his intrepidity in war, and without resembling at all points this picture of the pendards, tocquedillon the franc-taupin, preserved strong features of the same. for all that, however, he adored, venerated his sister, and from the moment that he sat down at her hearth he would seem metamorphosed. nothing in either his words or his conduct would then recall the audacious adventurer. timid, affectionate, realizing how unbecoming the slang of the tavern or of even worse places would be in the presence of bridget's children, of whom he was as fond as of her herself, he always controlled himself and never uttered in their presence any but decorous language. for christian he had as much love as respect. as the saying goes, he would have gone through fire for the family. the franc-taupin was at this time about thirty years of age; he was lean, bony and about six feet high. scarred with innumerable wounds, and partly blinded in battle, he wore a large black patch over his left eye. he kept his hair close cropped, his beard cut into a point under his chin, and his moustache twisted upward. his nose was pimply through excessive indulgence in wine, and his thick-lipped mouth, slit from ear to ear, exposed two rows of desultory shark's teeth every time that, as a true roisterer, he gave a loose to his imperturbable mirthfulness. the moment he stepped into the room, the franc-taupin deposited his old and weather-beaten sword in a corner, embraced his sister and her two children, shook hands cordially with christian, bowed respectfully to the unknown man, and timidly took his usual place at the family table. christian came to the relief of his brother-in-law's embarrassment and said to him jovially: "we would have felt uneasy at your absence, josephin, if we did not know that you are of those who, with their swords at their side, defy the world and are able to defend themselves against all assailants." "oh, brother, the best sword in the world will not protect one against a surprise; the surprise that i have just experienced has knocked me down. as my surprise tastes strongly of salt, i am dying with thirst--allow me to empty a cup." after his cup was emptied the franc-taupin proceeded with a scared look: "by the bowels of st. quenet, what did i see! i'm quite certain that i am not deceived; i have only one eye left, but it is good for two. by all the devils, i saw him! i saw him distinctly! a singular encounter!" "whom did you see, josephin?" "i saw, just now, just before nightfall, here, in paris, captain don ignatius loyola, a spanish nobleman--a devil of a fighter and an inveterate lover of amorous adventures--a terrible man." at the mentioning of ignatius loyola's name the guest at christian's table shuddered, while christian himself asked the franc-taupin: "but who is that spanish captain the sight of whom in paris affects you so greatly?" "did you really know the man?" inquired monsieur john in an accent of deep interest. "did you know ignatius loyola personally?" "i should think i did! i was his page." "and so, loyola was a captain?" again inquired monsieur john, more and more interested in what the franc-taupin said. "you must, then, have some information on the man's life, his character, his habits. please tell us something about him." "by the bowels of st. quenet! i was continuously with him for three whole months! by all the devils, i never left his side, either day or night!" "what were his morals?" "oh! oh! friend guest, i would not like to answer that question in my sister's presence--it is too racy a story." "friend christian," said monsieur john, "i notice that you are surprised at my curiosity concerning the spanish captain. you will some day understand that the information in question interests you as well. it will be an interesting history for you to know." "hena, hervé," said the artisan, "supper is nearly ended, my children; it is growing late; you may retire." "and i," put in bridget, "have some embroidery to finish; i shall go upstairs and work at it with hena; i shall come down later and put away the dishes. you can call for me, christian, if you need anything. you and josephin can entertain our guest." hervé embraced his father with an affectation of increased tenderness, and withdrew to his bedroom; bridget and her daughter went upstairs. the unknown man and christian remained alone with the franc-taupin, and the latter proceeded, laughing: "my sister and her children being out of the way, my tongue is at freedom. tell me, brother, did you ever hear the story of the greyhound? the handsomest bitches sighed after him; he remained insensible to all their tender growls; one day a monk's frock was thrown upon him, and he immediately became as amorous as one possessed. well, captain loyola was as possessed for love adventures as the greyhound in the story, without, however, having need of a monk's frock to give him the start; and--but i was almost forgetting. do you know, brother, in whose company i saw the fire-eater and hell-rake this evening? with your friend lefevre." christian remained for an instant speechless with astonishment; and turning to monsieur john, he said: "i must admit that great is my astonishment. lefevre, whose name i mentioned to you before, is an austere man, wholly absorbed in scientific pursuits and in study. what can he have in common with the spanish libertine? i am unable to explain the mystery." "if you are surprised, brother, no less so am i," replied the franc-taupin. "captain loyola, whom fourteen or fifteen years ago i knew as the handsomest, gayest and most dissolute of cavaliers, dressed in velvets, silks and lace, looks to-day as tattered as any tramp or starving beggar. the transformation is so radical, that i never would have thought of looking for my frisky spanish captain under the black smock-frock of a halepopin, had it not been for lefevre, who, stopping me near the booths of the market place, which i was then crossing, inquired after you. it was then that i looked more attentively at his seedy companion and recognized--don ignatius!" "the man's relations astonish me so much, josephin, that i am no less impatient than our guest to hear you." "well, it was in the year , during the siege of pampeluna," the adventurer began, "and shortly after my enrollment with the franc-taupins. i was digging a trench with them before the place; we were throwing up the earth like veritable moles. the spaniards made a sortie in order to destroy our works. at the first shot of the spanish arquebuses, all my companions threw themselves flat down, with their noses in the hole. their cowardice angered me. i took up my pick and rushed into the melee, plying my improvised weapon upon the spaniards. a blow with a mace over my head knocked me down half dead. when i recovered consciousness i found myself lying upon the battle field among several of our men, all prisoners like myself. a company of spanish arquebusiers surrounded us. their captain, with the visor of his casque raised and mounted upon a moorish horse as black as ebony, the housings of which were of red velvet embroidered with silver, was wiping his long, blood-stained sword upon the animal's mane. the captain was don ignatius loyola. moustache turned up in castilian style, goatee, an olive complexion, intrepid mien, haughty and martial bearing--such was his portrait. he had noticed me pounding his soldiers with my pick, and took a fancy both to my pick and my youth. when he saw that i had regained consciousness, he started to laugh and addressed me in french: 'will you be my page? your wideawake face denotes an intelligent scapegrace; i shall furnish you a silver-embroidered red livery and a ducat a month, and you can eat your fill at my residence.' oh, brother, an offer to eat my fill, to me whose stomach had long been as hollow as the barrel of st. benoit and as open as an advocate's purse! the prospect of putting on a beautiful silver-embroidered livery, when my hose had for some time been reporting to me from which corner the wind blew! the thought of pocketing every month a ducat, when all my earnings during the whole campaign had so far been a wooden bowl that i plundered somewhere, and that i used for a hat! in token of glad acceptance i seized my pick that lay near me, threw it as far away as i could, and i told don ignatius that i accepted, and would follow him to the very devil's residence. the long and short of the affair was that i entered pampeluna with my new master." "i feel more and more mystified," interjected christian; "what service could a page, ignorant of the country's language, render to don ignatius?" "the devil take it! that was the very reason why i was employed by the cunning slyboots of a don ignatius. no sooner did i arrive at his residence, than an old majordomo, the only one of his men who spoke french, rigged me up in new clothes, from my feet to my head,--puffed hose of red velvet, white satin jacket, short cloak with silver trimmings, ruffs and bonnet after the spanish style. thus behold me, brother, attired as a genuine court page. in those days i had both my eyes--two luminaries of deviltry, besides the cunning nose of a fox cub. thus dressed up in spick and span dashing new clothes, the majordomo led me to captain loyola, 'do you know,' he asked me, 'why i take you, a frenchman, for my page? it is because, as you do not know spanish, you can not choose but be discreet towards the people in my house and those outside.'" "that is not badly planned," remarked christian; "don ignatius had, i suppose, many amorous secrets to conceal?" "by the bowels of st. quenet! i knew him to have as many as three sweethearts at a time: a charming merchant's wife, a haughty marchioness, and a bedeviled gipsy girl, the most beautiful daughter of bohemia that ever trilled a tambourine. but captain loyola, a veritable franc-taupin in matters of love, courted behind concealed trenches. he reveled in mystery. 'what is not known does not exist' was, with him, a favorite maxim that the old majordomo, his master's echo, often repeated to me." "'what is not known does not exist,'" repeated monsieur john pensively. "yes, judging by the motto, the man must be just what he has been described to me to be." "just listen," josephin proceeded; "i shall describe to you the experiences that i made the first evening that i served don ignatius as page. you will then be able to judge of the scamp's calibre. a fifteen-days' truce was agreed upon between the french and the spaniards, as a result of the sortie at which i was taken prisoner. as a longheaded man, captain loyola proposed to profit by the truce in his amorous intrigues. towards midnight he summoned me to his side. the devil! if the fellow looked martial in battle outfit, he looked frisky in his court costume! a jacket slashed with gold-embroidered velvet, puffed hose of white satin, shoes turned like a crawfish, plumed bonnet, a gold bejeweled chain on his neck! what shall i say? he shone and glittered, and besides, smelled of balsam! a veritable muskrat! he hands for me to carry a silken ladder and a guitar; takes his dagger and sword; and wraps himself up to the eyes in a taffeta mantle of light yellow. the old majordomo opens a secret door to us; we issue out of the house; after crossing a few narrow streets, we arrive at a deserted little square. my master glides under a balcony that is shut with lattices, takes the guitar from my hands, and there you have him warbling his roundelay. in response to the carol of the moustachioed nightingale, one of the shutters of the balcony opens slightly, and a bouquet of pomegranate blossoms drops at our feet. don ignatius picks it up, extracts from amidst the flowers a little note concealed among them, and gives me the guitar together with the bouquet to hold for him. i imagined our evening performance concluded. by the bowels of st. quenet, it had only commenced! don ignatius fanned the sparks of his libidinousness with his guitarade, on the same principle that one fans the sparks of his thirst by chewing on a pork-rind dipped in mustard. but by the way of thirst, brother, let us imbibe that pot; appetite comes with eating, but thirst goes with drinking. he who drinks without being thirsty drinks for the thirst that is to come. thirst is an animal's quality, but to crave for drink is a quality of man. by st pansard and st. goguelu, let's moisten, let's moisten our whistles! our tongues will dry up soon enough! unhappy shrove-tuesday, the patron of pots and sausages--and the devil take the pope and all his friarhood!" "josephin," said christian, smiling and filling the franc-taupin's cup, as he broke into the midst of the latter's flow of bacchic invocations, "i know you to be an expert in the matter of quaffing, but our guest and myself are more curious about the end of your story." "god's head! as truly as the mere shadow of a carmelite convent is enough to cure any woman of sterility, i shall not allow the end of the adventure of don ignatius to drown at the bottom of this cup! there, it is now empty!" saying this, the franc-taupin passed the back of his hand over his moustache, moist with wine, wiped it dry, and proceeded: "well, as i was saying, after his guitarade, don ignatius proceeded with his nocturnal adventure on the streets of pampeluna. we moved away, and pulled up next before a pretentious dwelling. my master plants himself under a balcony at some distance from the main entrance; passes his long sword over to me to keep with the guitar, and retains no weapon other than his dagger; he then disengages himself of his mantle also, which he throws over my arm and says to me: 'you will hold the lower end of the ladder while i climb up to the balcony; you will then keep a sharp lookout near the door of this house; if you see anyone go in, you will run quickly under this window and clap your hands twice; i shall hear your signal.' this being agreed upon, don ignatius himself claps his hands three times. immediately thereupon i see through the darkness of the night, a white form lean over the balustrade and drop us a cord. my master ties his ladder to it; the white form draws it up; the upper end of the ladder is fastened to the balcony; i steady it by holding the lower rung in my hands; and there you have captain loyola clambering up nimbly and light of heel, like a tom-cat running over a roof-pipe. as to myself, no less distressed than the dog of the cook who is turning the roast on the spit over a fire, and looks at the savory meat out of the corner of his eyes without partaking of it, i run and place myself in ambush near the door. the devil! a few minutes later, what is that i see? several seigneurs, lighted by lackeys with torches in their hands turn into the street. one of them walks straight to the door near which i stand on the watch, and enters the house where my master is regaling himself. obedient to the watchword, but forgetting that the flames of the torches are lighting me, i run to the balcony and clap my hands twice. by the bowels of st. quenet, i am perceived! two lackeys seize me at the moment when, notified by my signal, captain loyola is straddling the balustrade in order to descend into the street. he is recognized by the light of the torches. 'it is he!' 'there he is!' cry the seigneurs who stand in a bunch in the street. although discovered, don ignatius glides bravely down the ladder, touches ground and calls: 'halloa, there, page, my sword!' 'don ignatius of loyola, i am don alonzo, the brother of donna carmen,' says one of the cavaliers. 'i am ready to give you satisfaction,' answers the captain proudly. but by the bowels of st. quenet, it was with don ignatius's duels as with his amorous appointments: before the one was well finished the next commenced. suddenly, the man whom i had seen enter the house, in short, the husband, don hercules luga, appeared at the balcony; he held a bleeding sword in his hand. he leans forward into the street and cries: 'friends, justice is done to the woman! there now remains justice to be done to her accomplice. hold him. i am coming down!'" "poor woman!" said christian. "the death that he was the cause of must have horrified the libertine." "him? the devil! horrified at so little? judge for yourself. at the moment he learned of the death of his inamorata he receives his sword from the hands of don alonzo, who had taken it away from me. don ignatius pricks its point into the tip of his shoe, and without winking bends the blade in order to satisfy himself on its temper. that shows how frightened he was at the death of his lady-love. the husband, don hercules, comes out of the house, steps up to my master and says to him: 'don ignatius of loyola, i received you as a friend at my hearth; you have led my wife astray; you are a felon, unworthy of knighthood!' and what do you imagine, brother, is the answer that captain loyola made to that? if you can guess, i shall be willing to die of thirst. but no; a pox on these funereal prognostics! i prefer to drink, to drink until my soles sweat wine!" "proceed, josephin; proceed with your story." "'don hercules,' answers captain loyola loftily, 'in leading carmen astray, it was not _your_ woman[ ] that i led astray, but _a_ woman, as any other! you insult me by accusing me of a felony. you shall pay dearly, and on the spot, for such an insult. i shall kill you like a dog.'" "did you grasp that? can you imagine a more odious subtlety?" asked christian of monsieur john. "what a hypocritical distinction! the libertine seduced the unfortunate woman, but not his friend's wife--only the _woman_, as a _woman_! just god, such subtle quibbling! and that while his victim's corpse is still warm!" "that is, indeed, the man as he has been described to me," repeated the guest, with a pensive air. "what i am learning is a revelation to me." "the issue of the duel could not be doubtful," proceeded the franc-taupin. "captain loyola enjoyed the reputation of being the most skilful swordsman in spain. he fully deserved his reputation. don hercules drops dead upon the ground. don alonzo endeavors to avenge his sister and brother-in-law, but the young man is readily disarmed by don ignatius, who, raising his sword, says: 'your life belongs to me; you have insulted me by sharing the unworthy suspicions of don hercules, who accused me of having betrayed his friendship. but go in peace, young man, repent your evil thoughts--i pardon you!' after which captain loyola repaired to the gypsy girl and spent with her the rest of the night. i heard the two (always like the cook's dog) laugh, sing and carouse, clinking their glasses filled with spanish wine. we returned home at dawn. now tell me, brother christian, what do you think of the gallant? you may judge by the experience of that night the number of pretty women whom the captain loyolized!" "oh, the man's infernal hypocrisy only deepens the blackness of his debaucheries and swordsman's prowess!" absorbed in his private thoughts, monsieur john remained in a brown study. presently he said to the franc-taupin: "you followed loyola to war. was the captain's regiment well disciplined? how did he treat his soldiers?" "his soldiers? by the bowels of st. quenet! imagine, not men, but iron statues, that, with but a gesture, a wink of his eye, don ignatius either moved or petrified, as he chose. broken in and harnessed to his command like so many machines, he said: 'go!'--and they went, not only into battle but whithersoever he ordered. they were no longer themselves, but he. what the devil, captain loyola controlled men and women like horses--by the identical methods." "what methods, let us hear them, josephin." "well, one day a wild stallion of cordova was brought to him; the animal was savage, a veritable demon; two strong stablemen were hardly able to hold him by the halter. don ignatius ordered the wild beast to be taken to a small enclosed yard, and remained there alone with him. i was outside, behind the gate. first i heard the stallion neigh with fury, then with pain, and then there was silence. two hours later captain loyola issued from the yard mounted on the animal which steamed with foam and still trembled with fear, but as docile as a curate's mule." "that is wonderful!" cried christian. "was the man possessed of a magic charm with which to curb wild beasts?" "exactly so, brother, and his talisman consisted in a set of reins so fearfully and skilfully contrived that, if the horse yielded passive obedience to the hand that guided him, he felt no pain whatever; but at the slightest show of resistance, captain loyola set in motion a certain steel saw contrivance supplied with sharp points and fastened in the bit. immediately the animal would neigh with pain, remain motionless and sink down upon his haunches, whereupon don ignatius would pat it with his hand and give it some cream cakes. by the bowels of st. quenet! iron reins and cream cakes--this was the trick wherewith the captain loyolized men, women and horses!" "and did his soldiers love him, despite his inflexible yoke?" asked monsieur john. "did they love him? the devil! do you forget the cream cakes? puddings, sausages, capons, fatted geese, pouches filled with val-de-peñas wine, gay wenches, high jinks in the barracks; in the enemy's country, free pillage, free rape, fire, blood and sack, and long live the saturnalia! these were the cream cakes of captain loyola. whenever occasion required, he would treat his soldiers to these dainties out of his own pocket like a magnificent seigneur; but to allow his soldiers to reflect, to think, to reason, to will?--never! to ask why this and why that? never! 'kill,' the captain would say, and the response was: 'listen, he says kill--we kill!' but it is your friend, your brother, your father, your sister, your mother that he orders you to kill. 'makes no difference, he said kill--we kill, and we kill;' and then come the cream cakes and more cream cakes, otherwise the reins begin to play, and they play so severely--clubbings, strappings, croppings of ears, hanging by the limbs and other devices of the devil. 'our dear master,' often did the old majordomo say to me, 'our dear master is everything to all of us, provided all of us let him have his own will untrammeled; omnipotence is the secret joy of the dear don ignatius; to possess a woman, curb a mettlesome horse, manoeuvre his men of iron as one bends a reed--that is his enjoyment! he delights in absorbing souls. as to bodies, he fondles, caresses, indulges, dandles, fattens and greases them--provided they move at his will.' it is ever so, he who holds the soul holds the body." christian hesitated to believe the account of the franc-taupin; he could hardly give credence to the monstrous description. monsieur john looked less surprised, but more alarmed. he said to josephin, who, having wished to help himself to some more wine, sighed at finding the pot empty: "but by what combination of circumstances could ignatius loyola, such as you described him to us and such as, i do believe, he was, metamorphose himself to the extent of coming here, to paris, and seat himself on the benches of the montaigu college among the youngest of the students?" "what!" cried christian, stupefied. "is ignatius loyola to-day a simple student?" "he attended the college," replied monsieur john; "and one day he submitted to be publicly whipped in punishment for a slip of memory. there is something unexplainable, or frightful, in such humility on the part of such a man." "ignatius loyola! the debauchee, the skilful swordsman! the haughty nobleman, did he do that?" cried christian. "can it be possible?" "by the bowels of st. quenet, brother," put in the franc-taupin in his turn, "as well tell me that the monks of citeaux left their kegs empty after vintage! even such a thing would sound less enormous than that captain loyola slipped down his hose to receive a flogging! the devil take me!" cried the franc-taupin vainly trying to extract a few more drops from the pot. "i am choked with surprise!" "but you must not be allowed to choke with thirst, good josephin," put in christian, smiling and exchanging a look of intelligence with monsieur john. "the pot is empty. as soon as your story is ended, and in order to feast our guest, i shall have to ask you to go to the tavern that you know of and fetch us a pot of argenteuil wine. that is agreed, brother." "st. pansard, have pity upon my paunch! by my faith, brother, the pots are empty. i guess the reason why. one time i used to drink it all--now i leave nothing. did you say a pot of wine? amen!" said the franc-taupin rising from his seat. "we shall furnish our guest with a red border, like a cardinal! yes, brother, it is agreed. and so i shall go for the pot, but not for one only--for two, or three." "not so fast, first finish your story; i am interested in it more than you can imagine," said monsieur john with great earnestness. "i must again ask you: to what do you, who knew loyola so well, attribute this incredible change?" "may my own blood smother me; may the quartain fever settle my hash, if i understand it! a few hours ago i strained my remaining eye fit to give it a squint, in contemplating don ignatius. seeing him so threadbare, so wan, so seedy and leaning upon his staff, i had not the courage to remind him of me. by the bowels of st. quenet, i felt ashamed of having been page to the worn-out old crippled hunch-back." "how is that! you described him as having been such a fine-looking cavalier and such a skilful swordsman--and yet he was hunch-backed?" "he was crippled through two wounds that he received at the siege of pampeluna. the devil! all the fathers, all the brothers, all the husbands whose daughters, sisters and wives the captain loyolized, would have felt themselves thoroughly revenged if, like myself, they had seen him writhe like one possessed and howling like a hundred wolves from the pain of his wounds. by the bowels of the pope, what horrible grimaces the man made!" "but how could so intrepid a man display such weakness at pain?" "not at the pain itself; not that. on the contrary. as a result of his wounds he voluntarily endured positive torture, beside which his first agonies were gentle caresses." "and why did he submit to such tortures? can you explain that?" "yes. the truce between the spaniards and the french lasted several days. at its close captain loyola mounted his horse, and placing himself at the head of his forces ordered a sortie. he made havoc among the enemy; but in the melee he received two shots from an arquebus. one of them fractured his right leg just below the knee, the other took him under the left hip. my gallant was carried to his house and we laid him in his bed. do you know what were the first words that don ignatius uttered? they were these: 'death and passion, i may remain deformed all my life!' and would you believe it? captain loyola wept like a woman! aye, he wept, not with pain, no, by the bowels of st. quenet, but with rage! you may imagine how crossed the handsome and roistering cavalier felt at the prospect. imagine a limping cripple strolling under balconies and warbling his love songs! imagine such a figure running after the señoras! what a sight it would be to have such a disjointed lover throwing himself at their feet at the risk of being unable to pick himself up again and yelling with pain: 'oh, my leg! oh, my knee!' just think of such a lame duck attempting to try conclusions with jealous and irate husbands and brothers, arms in hand! don ignatius must have thought of all that--and wept!" "it is almost incomprehensible that a man of his temper could be so enamoured of his physical advantages," remarked christian. "not at all!" replied monsieur john thoughtfully. "oh, what an abyss is the human soul! i now think i understand--" but suddenly breaking off he asked the franc-taupin: "accordingly, don ignatius was dominated by the fear of remaining crippled for life?" "that was his only worry. but i must hurry on. i have a horror of empty wine pots. my present worry is about the wine spigot. well, all the same, after healing, captain loyola's legs remained, as he feared, of unequal length. 'oh, dogs! jews! pagan surgeons!' bawled don ignatius when he made the discovery. 'fetch me here the robed asses! the brothers of beelzebub! i shall have them quartered!' summoned in great hurry, the poor wretches of surgeons hastened to don ignatius. they trembled; turned and turned him about; they examined and re-examined his leg; after all of which, the slashers of christian flesh and sawers of christian bones declared that they could render captain loyola as nimble of foot as ever he was. 'a hundred ducats to each of you if you keep your promise!' he cried, already seeing himself prancing on horseback, prinking in his finery, strutting about, warbling love songs under balconies, parading, and above all loyolizing. 'yes, señor; the lameness will disappear,' answered the bone-setters, 'but, we shall have, first of all, to break your leg over again, where it was fractured before; in the second place, señor, we shall have to cut away the flesh that has grown over the bone below your knee; in the third place, we shall have to saw off a little bone that protrudes; that all being done, no doe of the forest will be more agile than your excellency.' 'break, re-set, cut off, saw off, by the death of god!' cried captain loyola 'provided i can walk straight! go ahead! start to work!'" "but that series of operations must have caused him frightful pain!" "by the bowels of st. quenet! when the protruding bone was being sawed off, the grinding of captain loyola's teeth drowned the sound of the saw's teeth. the contortions that he went through made him look like a veritable demon. his suffering was dreadful." "and did he heal?" "perfectly. but there still remained the left thigh in its bandages. the fraternity of surgeons swore that that limb would be as good if not better than before the injury that it sustained. at the end of six weeks captain loyola rose and tried to walk. he did walk. glory to the bone-setters! he no longer limped of the right leg; but, the devil! his left thigh had shrunk by two inches by reason of a tendon that was wounded. and there was my gallant still hobbling, worse than ever. it had all to be done over again." "don ignatius's fury must have been fierce!" "howling tigers and roaring lions would have been as bleating lambs beside captain loyola in his boiling rage. 'dear, sweet master,' his old majordomo said to him, 'the saints will help you; why despair? the surgeons performed a miracle on your right leg; why should not they be equally able to do the same thing on your left thigh?' the drowning man clings to a straw. 'halloa, page, run to the surgeons!' yelled my master at me; 'bring them here instantly!' the surgeons came. 'here they are, señor.' 'i suffered the pangs of death for the cure of my right leg; i am willing to suffer as much or worse for the lengthening of my left thigh. can you do it?' said don ignatius to the bones-setters. whereupon they fell to feeling, pressing, kneading and manipulating the twisted thigh of the patient; without desisting from their work at the member after a while they raised their heads and mumbled between their teeth: 'señor, yes, we can free you from this limp--but, firstly, we shall have to strap you down upon your back, where you will have to lie, motionless, for two months; secondly, a strap will have to be passed under your arms and fastened firmly to the head of your couch; thirdly, a weight of fifty pounds will have to be adjusted to a ring and fastened to your left leg, to the end that the weight slowly, steadily, and constantly distend your thigh. the result will then be obtained, seeing you will be held firm and motionless by the two straps, the one that binds you down to your bed and the other, under your arms, that holds you to the head of your couch. with the aid of these contrivances, your thigh will be restored to its normal condition at the end of two months, and the does of the forest will then be less agile than your excellency.' 'do it!' was loyola's answer. 'strap, distend, stretch me out, blood of god, provided i can walk!'" "that is frightful!" cried christian. "it is the 'wooden horse' torture, prolonged beyond the point of human endurance." "by the bowels of st. quenet! there is nothing beyond endurance to a gallant who is determined not to hobble. don ignatius underwent the torture for the two months. the old majordomo and myself nursed our master. at times he screamed--oh, such screams! they were heard a thousand feet from the house. exhausted with pain, his eyelids would droop in sleep, but only to be suddenly reawakened with a start by his shooting pains. at such times the sounds that he emitted were screams no longer, but the howlings of the damned. at the end of two months of insomnia and continuous agony, which left nothing but the skin on his bones, but during which he was held up at least with the hope of final cure, captain loyola's surgeons held a consultation, and allowed him to leave his bed of torture. he rose, walked--but, the devil! not only was his left thigh not sufficiently lengthened, but his right knee, that had been previously operated upon, had become ossified from lying motionless for so long a time! captain loyola said not a word; he became livid as a corpse and dropped unconscious to the floor. we all thought he was dead. the next day the majordomo notified me that our master did no longer need a page. my wages were paid me; i left spain and returned to france with other prisoners who had been set free. after all that, and after the lapse of fourteen or fifteen years, i ran a few hours ago across don ignatius, near a booth on the market place, in the company of your friend lefevre. that, brother, ends my story. jarnigoy! is it not racy? but by the bowels of st. quenet, my tongue is parched; it cleaves to the roof of my mouth; my whistle burns; it is on the point of breaking out into flame; help! help! wine! wine! let the wine act as water to put out the fire! i shall now run out for the promised nectar of argenteuil!" added the franc-taupin, rising from his seat. "i shall be back in a jiffy! and then we shall drinkedrille, drinkedraille, gaily clink glasses with our guest. a full pot calls for a wide throat!" so saying, josephin went out, singing in a sonorous voice his favorite refrain: "a franc-taupin had an ash-tree bow, all eaten with worms, and all knotted its cord; his arrow was made out of paper, and plumed, and tipped at the end with a capon's spur. _derideron, vignette on vignon! derideron!_" chapter vii. brother st. ernest-martyr. the moment the franc-taupin left the house the stranger said to christian: "your brother-in-law's story is a revelation to me. the past life of ignatius loyola explains to me his present life." "but who is that man? whence the interest, curiosity and even alarm that he seems to inspire you with?" christian was saying these words when his wife descended from the floor above. the sight of her reminded him it was urgent that the stranger be taken to the garret before the return of josephin. "bridget," he accordingly said to his wife, "has hena gone to bed?" "yes; both the dear children have retired for the night." "master robert estienne has confided a secret to me and asked of me a service, dear bridget. for two or three days we are to hide monsieur john, our guest of this evening, in this house. the garret seems to me to offer a safe retreat. i have temporarily got your brother out of the way. take our refugee upstairs; i shall remain here to wait for josephin." bridget took up again the lamp that she had deposited upon the table, and said to the stranger as she prepared to lead the way upstairs: "come, monsieur; your secret will remain with christian and myself; you may rely upon our discretion." "i am certain of that, madam," answered monsieur john; "i shall never forget your generous hospitality;" and addressing the artisan: "could you join me later, after your brother-in-law has gone? i should like to speak with you." "i shall join monsieur after josephin's departure," christian answered the stranger, who followed bridget to the upper loft. the latter two had both withdrawn when suddenly an uproar was heard in the street. peals of laughter were interspersed with the plaintive cries of a woman. although quite familiar with these nocturnal disorders, seeing that the guilleris, the mauvais-garçons, the tire-laines and other bandits infested the streets at night, and not infrequently disturbed the carousals of the young seigneurs bent upon their debauches, christian's first impulse was to go out to the help of the woman whose cries resounded ever more plaintive. considering, however, that no decent woman would venture outside of her house at such a late hour, and, above all, fearing that by interfering in the affray he might provoke an assault upon his house and thereby put the safety of his guest in jeopardy, he contented himself with partly opening the window, whereupon, by the light of the torches held by several pages dressed in rich liveries, he saw three seigneurs, evidently just come from some orgy, surrounding a woman. the seigneurs were in an advanced stage of intoxication and sought to drag the woman after them; she resisted and held her arms closely clasped around a large cross that stood in the center of the bridge. the woman cried imploringly: "oh, leave me, seigneurs. in the name of heaven, leave me! mercy! have pity for a woman--mercy, seigneurs!" "may the flames of st. anthony consume me if you do not come with us, strumpet!" yelled one of the seigneurs, seizing the woman by the waist. "a street walker to put on such airs! come, my belle, either walk or we shall strip you on the spot!" "you are mistaken, seigneurs," answered the poor creature panting for breath in the unequal struggle; "i am an honest widow." "honest and a widow!" exclaimed one of the debauchees. "'sdeath, what a windfall! we shall marry you over again." saying which the seigneurs tried anew to tear their victim from the foot of the cross to which she clung with terror and screamed aloud for help. attracted by the cries, a young monk, who happened to be in a nearby side street, ran to the scene, saw the distressed condition of the persecuted woman, and rushed at her aggressors, saying in a deeply moved voice: "oh, brothers, to outrage a woman at the very foot of the cross! that is a cowardly act, condemned by god!" "what business is that of yours, you frockist, you convent rat!" cried one of the assailants, stepping towards the monk with a menacing gesture. "do you know whom it is that you are talking with? do you know that i have the power, not only to kill you, but to excommunicate you, you beggar? i am the marquis of fleurange, the colonel of the regiment of normandy, and over and above that, bishop of coutances. so, then, go your ways quickly and without further ado, you tonsured knave and mumbler of masses. if you do not, i shall use my spiritual powers and my temporal powers--i shall excommunicate you and run you through with my sword!" "oh, brother st. ernest-martyr! come to my help! it is i, mary la catelle!" cried the young widow, as she recognized the monk by the light of the torches. "for pity's sake stand by me!" "oh, my brothers!" cried the monk indignantly, running towards mary. "the woman whom you are outraging is a saint! she gathers the little children that are left unprotected; she instructs them; she is blessed by all who know her; she is entitled to your respect." "if she is a saint, i am a bishop--and between a female saint and a bishop the relations are close!" answered the marquis of fleurange with a winey guffaw. "she loves children! 'sdeath, she shall be delighted! i shall swell her family!" "you shall kill me before you reach her!" cried the monk, vigorously thrusting the marquis back. the latter, being heavily in his cups, reeled, swore and blasphemed, while brother st. ernest-martyr threw himself between the widow, who clung to the cross, and her assailants. crossing his arms over his chest, he looked defiantly at the seigneurs and said to them challengingly, as he barred their way to their victim: "come forward, if you will; but you will have to kill me before you touch this woman!" "insolent frockist! you dare threaten us and to raise your hand against me!" yelled the colonel-bishop furious and tottering on his unsteady limbs; and drawing his sword in its scabbard out of his baldric, he took it in both his hands, and struck so hard a blow with its heavy hilt upon the forehead of the monk, that the latter was dazed by the blow, staggered backward, and fell bleeding from an ugly scalp wound at the feet of mary la catelle. despite the caution that his guest's safety imposed upon him, christian could no longer remain a passive witness of such acts of brutality; he entertained a respectful esteem for the young widow whose virtuous life he was acquainted with; moreover, he feared lest the monk, who had so generously interposed between the drunken seigneurs and their victim, be subjected to further maltreatment. christian shut the window, armed himself with a heavy iron bar, slipped quietly out of his house, shut the door after him without making any noise, in order to prevent its being known from whence he came, and, seeing several of his neighbors, whom the disturbance had drawn to their windows, he shouted: "to your clubs, my friends, to your clubs! will you allow women to be assailed, and defenseless men to be killed? to your clubs, my friends, to your clubs! let us save the victims!" saying this, christian ran resolutely upon the three seigneurs and their pages. at that very moment, the franc-taupin returned upon the bridge with the pot of argenteuil wine that he had gone after. seeing the artisan by the light of the torches and hearing him summon the neighbors to their clubs, the franc-taupin deposited the pot of wine at the threshold of the door, drew his sword and rushed to the fray crying: "by the bowels of st. quenet, here i am! my fine blade has not taken the air for a long time! it itches in my hands! death to the enemies of the good people of paris! death to the nobles and their pages!" several of christian's neighbors answered his summons and issued from their houses, some armed with clubs, others with pikes. for a moment the three seigneurs stood their ground bravely; they drew close abreast of one another and drew their swords. their pages, however, as much out of fear of being hurt in the broil as out of mischief, suddenly put out their torches and screamed: "seigneurs! there is a squad of armed constables coming this way! there, on the bridge! look out! run who run can!" upon shouting this lie the pages ran off as fast as their legs could carry them and left their masters and their assailants in utter darkness. the three seigneurs did not feel much concern on the score of the constables, who never dared to suppress the disorders of the nobility; but realizing that they had to do with eight or ten determined men, the assailants of the defenseless woman profited by the darkness in which they found themselves to slip away upon the heels of their pages, while christian's neighbors called for lanthorns in order to raise the wounded man. the artisan ran back into his house, lighted, and came out with a taper. by the light the monk was discovered stretched out at the foot of the cross, with his head bathed in the blood that ran profusely from his scalp wound. on her knees beside him, and weeping tears of thankfulness, mary la catelle sought to staunch the wound of her defender. brother st. ernest-martyr was carried into christian's house with the help of the franc-taupin and some neighbors. the artisan offered asylum also to the widow, who was almost fainting with fright. commissioned by her husband to conduct the stranger to the garret, the only window of which opened upon the river, bridget remained ignorant of what was occurring upon the street. when, however, she returned downstairs, great was her surprise and alarm at the sight of mary la catelle, pale, her dress thrown into disorder, and leaning against a table compassionately contemplating the wounded young monk. the latter was slowly regaining consciousness, thanks to the attention that he was receiving from the artisan and the franc-taupin. "good god!" cried bridget, hastening to approach the young widow. "look at the poor monk covered with blood. what has happened, mary?" "i was delayed at a friend's longer than i had expected; her maid servant accompanied me home; we were crossing the bridge when several swaggering seigneurs approached and made insulting remarks to us. the poor servant was frightened and ran away, leaving me alone. the men sought to drag me away with them. brother st. ernest-martyr happening by, came to my rescue; he received on the forehead a blow with the hilt of a sword and fell bleeding at my feet. happily your husband and several neighbors rushed to our help; thanks to them we escaped further maltreatment from our assailants; but the poor monk is wounded." "dear sister, let me have some fresh water and some lint," said the franc-taupin to bridget. having often been wounded in war the soldier of adventure had some knowledge of the dressing of wounds. "i shall go upstairs for the lint, and bring my daughter down to help you," answered bridget as she proceeded to the storey above. slightly recovered from her own fright, mary la catelle drew nearer to the monk with deepening interest. the franc-taupin looked around and said to christian: "what has become of your guest? did he show the white feather? i would have preferred he were a braver man." "no, no, josephin. our guest left the house shortly before the disturbance on the street; he feared it was growing too late for him." "why did he not wait for me? i would have escorted him home safely after emptying our pot of argenteuil. but, coming to think of it," the franc-taupin broke off, while he left christian to hold up the head of the friar, "i shall pour a few drops of wine down the wounded man's throat; the devil! wine has the miraculous power of being as helpful to the sick as to the well;" and taking up the pot he approached it to his own lips. "before administering the potion to others let me try it myself--it is the duty of all prudent pharmacists to assure themselves of the quality of their own medicine." while the franc-taupin was thoroughly "trying" the beverage, bridget came down again with her daughter. the latter had hastily put on her clothes. her brother also, whom the noise had awakened, dressed himself and came out of his room. hervé was on the point of inquiring from his father what was the cause of the commotion in the house when his eyes alighted upon st. ernest-martyr, and he recognized the man whom his sister hena had ingenuously called "her monk." a flash of lightning shot from hervé's eyes and for an instant his looks assumed a ferocious expression. the lad, however, controlled his sentiments and closely watched his sister and the friar, to the latter of whom the franc-taupin was administering a few mouthfuls of the comforting wine. speedily recalled to himself by the strengthening elixir, brother st. ernest-martyr opened his eyes. before him he saw, like a celestial apparition, the angelic countenance of hena, who, with eyes moist with pity, held out to her uncle with a trembling hand the lint that he was using to dress the wound of the monk whose head christian held in his hands. when he had completely regained consciousness and collected his thoughts, the monk became aware of the solicitude with which he was surrounded by the family that had taken him in; tears of gratitude and tenderness welled up in his eyes and rolled down his face, which, pale with the loss of blood, recalled the touching beauty that painters impart to the image of christ. the expression of ineffable gratitude on the monk's countenance gave it at the moment so sweet a charm that hervé trembled with suppressed rage. his anger was such that it even threatened to break out when he surprised the eyes of the monk and of his sister once as they accidentally met. the lad noticed that both dropped their eyes and seemed embarrassed. these circumstances escaped all the other members of the family. brother st. ernest-martyr turned his head towards christian and said to him in a feeble voice: "it is to you, no doubt, monsieur, that i owe my life. and yet i am a stranger to you. may heaven place it some day in my power to attest to you the gratitude with which i am penetrated. i thank you for your help." "brother," answered the artisan, "i would have fulfilled my duty as a christian by assisting you even if you were a stranger to me; but often did our mutual friend mary la catelle speak to us of you and of the esteem that you deserve. besides, my wife often was present when you were teaching the little ones. she has preserved cherished recollections of the evangelical morality that you preached to them." "oh, we could never sufficiently praise the good brother!" exclaimed mary la catelle. "what is known of him is like nothing beside the numerous acts of charity that he practices in secret--" "sister, sister," said the monk, blushing with modesty and interrupting the widow, "do not exaggerate my poor deserts; i love little ones; to instruct them is a pleasure to me and their affection more than rewards me for the little that i do for them. my duty squares with my pleasure." "well, brother, i shall say no more," replied mary la catelle; "i shall not say how highly i think of you, and how i but re-echo the sentiments of all who know you; i shall say nothing of how, a short time ago, you rushed to my defense at the risk of your life; i shall not say how, only yesterday, a man who fell into the river near the isle of notre dame was being carried down stream and about to sink when you threw yourself--" "dear sister," insisted brother st. ernest-martyr with a melancholy smile, and again interrupting the widow whose praises of the monk placed hervé upon the rack, "your style of not saying things is too transparent. oblige me; draw a veil over the acts that you refer to; anyone else would have done as much. we all in this world owe assistance to our fellows." as the young monk spoke these words, his eyes involuntarily again encountered hena's; he sought to flee from their influence upon him; he rose from his stool, and said to christian: "adieu, monsieur; i am only a poor friar of the order of st. augustine; i can only preserve the deepest gratitude for your timely help. believe me, the remembrance of yourself and of your sympathetic family will always be present in my mind. may the blessing of god rest upon your house." "what, brother," interposed the artisan, "your wound is barely dressed, and you would leave the house so soon? rest yourself a little longer; you are still too weak to proceed on your route." "it is late, and i feel quite strong enough to return to my convent. i went with the superior's consent to carry some consolation to a good old priest of notre dame who lies dangerously ill. night is now far advanced, allow me to withdraw. i think that the fresh air will do me good," and respectfully bowing to hena and her mother, blushingly he said to mary la catelle: "to-morrow will be school day, dear sister; i hope i shall be able to go to your house as usual, and give the children their lessons." "may it please god that you can keep your promise, dear brother," answered the young widow; "but i am less courageous than you; i would not dare to return home to-night any more; i shall request bridget to be so kind as to afford me asylum for the night." "do you imagine, dear mary, that i would have allowed you to go?" answered christian's wife. "you shall share hena's bed." after the monk's wound was dressed, the franc-taupin had remained silent, sharing, as he did, the interest felt by the whole family, hervé, alas, only excepted, in poor brother st. ernest-martyr. the latter's modest bearing, the sweetness of his countenance, the good words that all had for him, deeply moved josephin, who, his soldier's manners and the adventurous life he led notwithstanding, was susceptible to generous emotions. seeing the friar, after expressing his thanks anew to christian, move towards the door, the franc-taupin took up his sword, put on his hat, and said: "my reverend man, you shall not go out alone. i shall escort you to the augustinian convent. it is common with blows received on the skull, to be followed after a while by dizziness. you might be seized with such a fit on your way. let me offer you my arm." "thanks, josephin," said bridget affectionately; "thanks for your kind thoughtfulness, my friend. do accompany the worthy monk." "i am obliged to you for your offer," answered the monk to the franc-taupin; "but i can not consent to your troubling yourself by escorting me. the function with which i am clad, besides my robe, will be ample protection against marauders." "your robe! were it not that i know how worthy a man is inside of it, i would let it depart alone. by the bowels of st. quenet! i have no love for frockists. monkeys do not watch houses like dogs, they do not draw the plow like oxen, they do not carry loads like horses. very much like the useless monkey, monks do not till the soil like the peasant, they do not defend the country like the soldier, they do not heal the sick like the physician. by the bowels of st. quenet! these frockists deafen their neighborhood with the clatter of their bells, on the theory that the mass that is well rung is half said. they mumble their prayers in order to earn their fat soups, not to save souls. you, however, my reverend man, you who plow the field of science, you who defend the oppressed, you who comfort the sorrowful, you who sacrifice your life for others, you who are the prop of the poor, you who indoctrinate the little ones like a good evangelical doctor--you are not one of those mumblers of prayers, of those traffickers in masses, although you wear their costume. it might, therefore, well happen that some gang of mauvais-garçons, or of tire-laines, or of the associates of these _in partibus_, mendicant monks, might scent the honest man under your frock, and hurt you out of sheer hatred of good. for that reason you shall take my arm, by the devil, and i shall escort you whether you want it or not." at first alarmed at the unconventionality of the franc-taupin's words, the family of christian soon felt easier, and, so far from interrupting him, took pleasure in listening to him bestowing, after his own fashion, praise upon the friar. hena, above all, seemed with her ingenuous and delighted smile to applaud her uncle, while hervé, on the contrary, was hardly able to repress his annoyance, and cast jealous side glances at st. ernest-martyr. the monk answered the franc-taupin: "my dear brother, if the larger part of my brotherhood are, indeed, such as you depict them, i would request you rather to pity and pardon them; if they are different from what you take them for, if they are worthy beings, pray devoutly that they may persevere in the right path. you offer me your arm; i accept it. if i were to refuse you, you might think that i resent your satirical outburst." "resent! you, my reverend man! one might as well expect ferocity from the lamb. good night, sister; good night, children," added the franc-taupin as he embraced bridget, hena and hervé successively. "the only one wanting to my hugs is my little odelin. but by the bowels of st. quenet! i shall not do like the paymaster of my company, who pockets the pay of the absent men. when the darling apprentice to the armorer is back again, i shall pay him the full arrears of hugs due him." "the dear boy!" observed bridget tenderly, as her thoughts flew to her absent son. "may he soon again be back in our midst! it looks so long to us before his return." "his absence grieves me as much as it does you," interjected christian. "it seems to me so long since his place is vacant at our hearth." "you will see him return to us grown up, but so grown that we shall hardly know him," put in hena. "how we shall celebrate his return! what a joy it will be to us to make him forget the trials of the journey! what a delight it will be to hear him tell us all about his trip to milan, his experiences on the road, and his excursions in italy!" hervé alone had not a word on the absence of his brother. rising from the seat into which he had dropped for a moment, the young monk took leave of the artisan, saying: "may the heavens continue to bless your hospitality and your happy home, the sanctuary of the domestic virtues that are so rare in these days!" "the devil, my friend! your words are golden!" exclaimed the franc-taupin, as he offered the monk the support of his arm. "whenever i step into this poor but dear house, it seems to me i leave the big devil of hell behind me at the door; and whenever i go out again, i feel as if i am quitting paradise. look out! who knows but beelzebub, the wicked one with the cloven hoofs, is waiting for me outside? but to-night, seeing me in your company, my reverend man, he will not dare to grab me. come, let's start, reverend sir!" so saying, the franc-taupin left with the monk; bridget led la catelle to hena's chamber; and christian climbed up to the garret for a chat with monsieur john. left alone in the lower apartment, his fists clenched and his lips drawn tight together, hervé murmured moodily: "oh, that monk--that accursed monk!" the lad relapsed into gloomy thoughts; suddenly he resumed: "what a scheme! yes, yes--it will remove even the shadow of a suspicion. i shall follow the inspiration, whether it proceed from the devil or from god--" hervé did not finish his sentence. he listened in the direction of the staircase by which mary la catelle, bridget and hena and his father had just mounted to the floor above. chapter viii. in the garret. cautiously climbing the ladder that led up to the garret, christian found the stranger seated upon the sill of the narrow window that opened upon the river. the moon, then on the wane, was rising in a sky studded with stars, and shed her pale light upon the austere visage of the unknown guest. drawn from his absorbing thoughts, he turned towards christian: "i thought i heard some noise toward the bridge. has anything happened?" "some seigneurs, out on a carousal, attempted to do violence to a woman. several of our neighbors rushed to her aid with me and my brother-in-law. thanks be to god, mary la catelle is safe." "what!" cried monsieur john with deep concern, breaking in upon the artisan's report. "was that worthy widow, who is associated with john dubourg, the draper of st. denis street, with etienne laforge, the rich bourgeois of tournay, and the architect poille in the charitable work of gathering abandoned orphans, in peril? poor woman, her charity, the purity of her principles and her devotion to the little ones entitle her to the esteem of all right-minded people." "the task that she has imposed upon herself bristles with dangers. the monks and friars of her quarter suspect her of partaking of the ideas and hopes of the reformers. already has she been locked up in the chatelet, and her school been closed. thanks, however, to the intervention of one of her relatives, who is in the service of princess marguerite, a protector of the reform, mary was set at liberty and her school was re-opened. but the persecutions of the heretics are redoubling, and i apprehend fresh dangers for our friend, whose faith is unshakable." "yes, the persecutions are redoubling," rejoined monsieur john thoughtfully. "monsieur christian lebrenn, i know i can unbosom myself to you with all frankness. i am a stranger in paris; you know the city. could i find within the walls, or even without, some secluded spot where about a hundred persons could be gathered secretly and safely? i must warn you, these persons belong to the reformation." the artisan reflected for a moment and answered: "it would be difficult and dangerous to assemble so large a number of people within paris. gainier, the chief spy of the criminal lieutenant, expends undefatigable activity to discover and denounce all assemblages that he suspects. his agents are spread everywhere. so considerable a gathering would undoubtedly call their attention. outside of paris, however, we need not apprehend the same watchfulness. i may be able to indicate some safe place to you. but before proceeding farther, i should make a confidential disclosure to you. a friend of mine and myself contemplate printing secretly a few handbills intended to propagate the reform movement. we are in the hope that, scattered through paris, or posted over night on the walls, these placards may stir public opinion. only one obstacle has, so far, held us back--the finding of some safe and secluded place, where, without danger of being detected, we might set up our little printing establishment. i understand from my friend that he has at last found a suitable place for our purpose. it may turn out to be suitable for yours also." "is the house outside the walls of paris?" "it is not a house; it is an abandoned quarry situated on montmartre. my friend was born in that suburb; his mother still lives there; he is familiar with every nook and corner of that rocky hill. he is of the opinion that a certain wide and deep grotto which he inspected will guarantee to us the seclusion and safety that we are in search of. if he is not mistaken, the meeting that you have mentioned to me might be held at montmartre. to-morrow evening i am to go with my friend to look the place over. when i shall have done so, i shall acquaint you with the circumstances, and if the place is fit, you may fix the day of your gathering." "suppose that your excursion to montmartre to-morrow evening satisfies you that the quarry is suitable for my meeting, that it offers perfect safety; in what manner could the people, whom i shall convoke, be furnished with the necessary directions to find the place?" "i think that would be an easy matter, after the locality had been carefully inspected. i shall be able to furnish you to-morrow with the full particulars." "monsieur christian, could you also tell me where i could find some trustworthy person whom i could commission to carry the letters of convocation to certain persons, who, in their turn, would notify their friends?" "i shall carry those letters myself, if you will, monsieur. i realize the gravity of such a mission." "in the name of the cause that we both serve, monsieur christian, i thank you heartily for your generous offer," replied the stranger with effusion. "oh, the times bode evil. the conversation that we had this evening with your brother-in-law was almost a revelation to me concerning the singular man, the intrepid swordsman, the former runner of gallant adventures, whose darksome dealings i was previously acquainted with." "ignatius loyola? and what may be his scheme?" "some slight overtures made by him to a man whom i hold worthy of all credence, and whom he hoped to capture, were reported to me. i was thereby enabled to penetrate the infernal project pursued by ignatius loyola, and--" bridget's voice, sounding from the middle of the ladder that led up to the garret, and cautiously calling her husband, interrupted the unknown. christian listened and heard his wife say: "come down quick; i heard hervé come out of his room; i hear him coming upstairs; he may want to see us." the artisan made a sign to his guest that he had nothing to fear, and quickly descended the stairs into a dark closet, the only door of which opened into the chamber occupied by himself and his wife. christian had just time to close noiselessly the door of the closet and to sit down, when hervé rapped gently at his father's door and called him. bridget opened and said to her son: "what do you want, my child?" "dear parents, grant me a few words with you." "gladly," responded christian, "but let us go downstairs. our poor friend mary la catelle is sharing your sister's bed; the woman needs rest; our conversation might disturb her sleep." chapter ix. the penitent. father, mother and son proceeded downstairs to the room on the ground floor where the distressing scene of the night before was enacted. hardly had they touched the lowermost step of the staircase when hervé threw himself upon his knees, took his father's hands, kissed them tearfully and murmured in a smothered voice: "i beg your pardon--for my past conduct--pardon me--my good parents!" "god be praised! we were not deceived in the boy," was the thought that rushed to the minds of christian and bridget as they exchanged a look of profound satisfaction. "the unfortunate lad has been touched by repentance." "my son," said the artisan, "rise." "no, not before i have obtained from you and my mother forgiveness for my infamous act;" and he added, amid sobs: "it was myself, i, your son--it was i who stole your gold!" "hervé," replied christian, deeply moved by the manifestations of remorse which he took to be sincere, "last night, in this same room, your mother and i said to you: 'if you forgot yourself for a moment and committed the theft, admit it--you will be forgiven.'" "and we shall gladly keep our promise," added bridget. "we pardon you, seeing that you repent. rise." "oh, never more so than at this moment am i penetrated with the unworthiness of my conduct. good god! so much kindness on your part, and so much baseness on mine! my whole life shall be consecrated to the atonement of my infamy!" said hervé, rising from the floor. "i shall not conceal it from you, my boy," proceeded christian with paternal kindness. "i was quite prepared for this admission of your guilt. certain happy symptoms that your mother and myself noticed to-day, led us to expect your return to the right path, to the principles of honesty in which we brought you up." "did i not tell you so, yesterday?" broke in bridget. "could our son really become unworthy of our tenderness, unworthy of the example that we set to him, as well as to his sister and brother? no; no; we will regain him; he will see the error of his ways. so you see, dear, dear boy," she added embracing him effusively, "i knew you better than you knew yourself! blessed be god for your return to the path of righteousness!" the consummate hypocrite threw himself upon his mother's neck, and answering her caresses with feigned affection, said in a moved voice: "good father, good mother, the confession of my shameful act earned your pardon for me. later i hope your esteem for me may return, when you will have been able to judge of the sincerity of my remorse. let me tell you the cause of my repentance, the suddenness of which may astonish you." "a sweet astonishment, thanks be to god. speak, speak, my son!" "you surmised rightly, father. yes, led astray, corrupted by the counsel of fra girard, i pilfered your money for the purpose of consecrating it to works that i took to be pious." "ah, it is with pride both for us and yourself that i say it," cried bridget; "never once, while we suspected you, did we believe you capable of the guilty act out of love for gold, out of a craving for selfish enjoyment, or out of cupidity! no, a thousand times no!" "thanks! oh, thanks, good mother, to do me at least that justice, or, rather, to do it to the bringing up that i owe you! no; the fruit of my larceny has not been dissipated in prodigality. no; i did not keep it like a miser, out of love for gold. the gold pieces were all thrown into the chest of the apostolic commissioner of indulgences, for the purpose of obtaining the redemption of the souls in purgatory." "i believe you, my son. the charitable and generous side of that idolatry, that is so profitable to the cupidity of the church of rome, must have had its fascination for your heart. but how did you discover the fraud of that monastic traffic? explain that to me." "this morning, after i deposited my offering in the chest of indulgences that was set up in the church of st. dominic, i heard the apostolic commissioner preach. oh, father, all the still lingering sentiments of honor within me revolted at his words. my eyes were suddenly opened; i fathomed the depth of the abyss that blind fanaticism leads to. do you know what that monk, who claimed to speak in the name of the almighty, dared to say to the mass of people gathered in the church? 'the virtue of my indulgences is so efficacious,' the monk cried out, 'so very efficacious, that, even if it were possible for any man to have raped the mother of our savior, that crime without name would be remitted to him by the virtue of my indulgences. so, then, buy them, my brothers! bring, bring your money! rummage in your purses, rummage'--" christian and his wife listened to their son's tale in silent affright. the sacrilegious words which the lad reported to them caused them to shiver with horror and their own horror explained to them the repentance and remorse of hervé. "oh, i now see it all, my child!" cried christian. "the sacrilegious monstrosity was a revelation to you! it shocked you back to your senses! yes, your eyes were suddenly opened to the light; you conceived a horror for those infamous priests; you recoiled with dread from the fatal slope down which superstition was driving you!" "yes, father, the monstrous thought was a revelation to me; the veil was torn; i regained my sight. i was to be either the dupe or the accomplice of these abominable frauds. disgust and indignation recalled me to myself. it was to me as if i awoke from a painful dream. when i recalled that, for several months, i had been dominated by the influence of fra girard, i cursed the detestable charm under which the man had held me captive, and which was alienating me from a cherished, a venerated family. i cursed the devilish sophisms, which, exactly as you expressed it, father, were corrupting in my mind the most elemental principles of right and wrong, and led me to the commission of a theft, an act that was doubly infamous seeing that it was perpetrated under the trusting security of the paternal roof! oh, mother, in the measure that i thus regained the possession of my soul, overwhelmed with shame as i was, and torn with remorse, i felt there was but one way of safety--repentance! only one hope--your pardon! only one refuge--your love. i have returned to you, beloved parents." christian and bridget could not suspect their son's sincerity. they reposed faith in his repentance, in the return of his filial devotion, in the horror that the past inspired him with. father and mother devoutly rendered thanks to god for having restored their son to them. when the two closed their eyes in sleep that night their last thought concerned their son hervé--alas, a treacherous happiness. chapter x. loyola and his disciples. the day after the proscribed stranger and friend of robert estienne had found an asylum in the home of christian, the latter sallied forth after dark with his friend justin for the purpose of inspecting the abandoned quarry where the two expected to be able to set up their secret press. the secluded spot was also expected speedily to serve as the trysting place for the leaders of the reformation in paris. the late moon was rising when the two artisans arrived in the neighborhood of the abbey of montmartre. they struck a road to the left of the church, leading to a hillock crowned with a cross. arrived there they descended a steep path at the bottom of which was the entrance to the quarry. "unless the recollections of my childhood deceive me," said justin to christian, "i'm under the impression that this quarry formerly had two openings--one being this, through which we are about to enter, the other, the issue of a sort of underground gallery, located at the opposite slope of the hill, and through which the descent is steep down to the bottom of the quarry. i even recall that a portion of the gallery bore traces of some very ancient masonry." "it probably is one of those places of refuge that, centuries ago, were dug into the bowels of the earth by the inhabitants of these regions, in the days of the invasions of the northman pirates."[ ] "quite probable. at the same time, seeing it is well to be prepared for all emergencies, this quarry can be rendered an all the safer meeting place for our friends of the reformation by placing a watchman at each entrance. the alarm being given from either side, escape could then be safely made by the other. the agents of the criminal lieutenant have a hundred eyes and as many ears. we cannot take too many precautions." "if your recollections are correct, that double entrance would be a priceless fact. the meeting place would be doubly guarded." "we can easily make sure of that," said justin. saying this he fumbled in his pocket for his tinder and flint, while christian drew out of his pocket the butt of a candle that he had provided himself with for the occasion. the jagged opening of the grotto was overhung by an abutting ledge of lime rock, covered with a few inches of earth overgrown with briars and furze. a rather abrupt path led to the species of platform that lay under the beetling rock. the two artisans stepped in. they did not light their candle at first for fear it would be extinguished by the wind. but after having groped their way through the dark for a few paces, they struck a light, and presently the feeble flame of the candle threw its light into the wide though low-arched cavern. a huge boulder, about five or six feet high and from eight to ten through, that doubtlessly had been loosened and dropped from the walls of the cave, seemed to mark the further extremity of the underground walk. "i now remember the place exactly," said justin; "the inside opening of the gallery that i spoke of to you must be on the other side of the stone. let's move on. we are on the right path." saying this, and followed by his friend, justin stepped into a narrow space left between the natural wall and the boulder. suddenly they heard the noise of footsteps and the voices of several persons drawing near from the side of the opening through which they had themselves shortly before entered the cavern. as much surprised as alarmed, the first motion of justin was to extinguish the candle, and approaching his lips to the ear of christian he whispered: "let us not budge from this spot. we may here remain unseen, should these people come this way." the two artisans held their breath and remained motionless in their hiding place, wondering with as much astonishment as anxiety who it might be that was resorting at so late an hour to so solitary a spot. the personages who penetrated into the quarry had also equipped themselves with lighting materials. one of them lighted a large wax candle, the reddish glare of which illuminated the features of the new arrivals, seven in number. the one who came in last, cast around him soon as the torch was lighted, looks indicative of the retreat being familiar to him. he walked with difficulty, and he stooped low as he leaned upon a heavy staff much resembling a crutch. yet he seemed to be a man in the maturity of life. black, threadbare and shabby clothes outlined his tall and robust stature. a spanish ruff of doubtful white set off his long and olive-hued visage that terminated in a pointed beard. his head was almost bare of hair. his dominating eyes, his imperious brow, the haughty carriage of his head--all imparted to his strongly marked physiognomy the impression of absolute inflexibility. that personage stepped forward. it was ignatius loyola. his six companions were james lainez, a spaniard; alfonso salmeron, inigo of bobadilla, and rodriguez of azevedo, portuguese; francis xavier, a french nobleman; and lastly, peter lefevre, a native of the mountains of savoy, the same who, for ten years, had been the intimate friend of christian lebrenn. francis xavier held the lighted wax candle. lefevre carried on his shoulder a large bundle. motionless and mute the six disciples of loyola fixed their eyes upon their master, not in order to discover his thoughts--they were incapable of such audacity--but in order to forestall his will, whatever it might be. looking around in silent contemplation of the interior of the grotto, loyola broke the silence in a solemn voice: "i greet thee, secret retreat, where, as formerly in the cavern of manres, i have often meditated, and matured my purposes!" he then sat down upon a nearby stone, crossed his hands over his staff, leaned his chin upon his hands, let his eyes travel slowly over his disciples, who, impassive as statues stood beside him, and, after an instant of silent meditation resumed: "my children, i said to you this evening: 'come!' you came, ignorant of whither i was leading you. why did you follow me? answer, xavier. to hear one of my disciples is to hear them all--to hear one of them to-day, is to hear all those who are to follow them from age to age--all will be but the distant echoes of my thought." "master, you said to us: 'come!' we came. command, and you shall be obeyed." "without inquiring whither i led you; without even seeking to ascertain what i might demand of you? answer, lefevre." "master, we followed you without reflecting--without inquiring." "why without reflecting, without inquiring? answer, lainez." "the members of the body obey the will that directs them; they do not interrogate that will; they obey." "xavier," resumed loyola, "plant your candle in some interstice of that boulder. lefevre, deposit your bundle at your feet. it contains your sacerdotal vestments and the articles necessary to celebrate the holy sacrifice of the mass." francis xavier planted the lighted candle firmly between two stones. lefevre deposited his bundle on the ground. the other disciples remained standing, their eyes lowered. still keeping his seat, and with his chin resting on the handle of his staff, loyola resumed: "francis xavier, when i first met you on the benches of the university--what was then your nature? what were your habits?" "master, i was passionately given to the pleasures of life." "and you, inigo of bobadilla?" "master, all obstacles upset me. i was weak and pusillanimous. my spirit lacked energy. my nature was cowardly and springless." "and you, john lainez?" "master, i had excessive confidence in myself. extreme vanity--" "and you, rodriguez of azevedo?" "master, my heart ran over with tenderness. a touching act, an affectionate word, was enough to bring the tears to my eyes. i was kind to all, was ever eager to run to the help of our fellow men. i was of a confiding and accessible nature." "and you, alfonso salmeron?" "master, pride dominated me. i was proud of my vigor of bone and of my intelligence. i deemed myself a superior man." "and you, john lefevre?" "master, my mountaineer tenacity never looked upon any obstruction but to overcome it. i brooked no contradiction." "aye! such were you. and what are you now? answer, john lefevre. to hear one of you is to hear all the rest." "master, we are no longer ourselves. your soul has absorbed ours. we are now the instruments of your will. we are the body, you the spirit. we are submissive slaves, you the inflexible master. we are the clubs, you the hand. without your animating breath we are but corpses." "how did you arrive at this complete self-effacement? in what manner was the absorption of your personalities in mine effected?" "master, the study of your _spiritual exercises_ effected the miracle." loyola seemed satisfied. with his chin resting upon his two hands crossed over the head of his heavy staff, he remained silent for a moment. presently he resumed: "yes, that you were; now you are this. and i myself, what was i, and what have i become? i shall tell you. i was a haughty grandee of viscaya, a handsome cavalier, a valiant captain, a daring seducer, and lucky swordsman. the hand of god suddenly smote me in war and rendered me a cripple. great was my despair! to renounce women, dueling, horses, the battle, the command of my regiment, which i had broken in, drilled and fashioned by military discipline! nailed to a couch of tortures, which i welcomed in the hope of removing my deformity, i was seized by grace! i felt myself full of strength and of energy. i was possessed of an invincible craving for dominion. at that juncture the holy ghost said to me: 'devote thyself to the triumph of the catholic church. thy dominion shall extend in the measure of thy faith.' i then asked myself what services could i render the catholic church. i looked around me. what did i see? the spirit of liberty, that pestilential emanation of a fallen humanity, everywhere at war with authority, that sacred emanation of divinity. i promised to myself to curb the spirit of liberty with the inflexible curb of authority, identically as i had formerly subjugated indomitable horses. the goal being set, what were the means to reach it? i looked for them. i wished first to experiment upon myself, to determine upon myself the extent to which, sustained by faith in the idea a man pursues, he can shake off his former self. rich by birth, i begged my bread; a haughty grandee, i exposed myself to outrage; a skilful swordsman, i submitted to insult; sumptuous in my habits of dress, careful of my personal appearance, i have lived in rags and in the gutter. ignorant of letters, i took my seat at the age of thirty among children on the benches of the montaigu college, where any slight inattention was visited upon me with the whip. some of my purposes, being detected by orthodox priests, earned for me their persecution and i was ostracised. i stood it all without a murmur. from that time, certain that i could demand from my disciples the sacrifices i imposed upon myself, i made you that which you are required to be. you have said it. you are the members, i the spirit; you are the instrument, i the will. the hour for action has come; our work calls us. what work is that?" "that work is the insurance of the reign of authority upon earth." "what authority?" "master, there is but one. the authority of god, visibly incarnated in his vicar, the pope, who is in rome." "do you understand by that the spiritual or the temporal authority?" "master, he who has authority over the soul must have authority over the body also. he who dictates the divine law must dictate the human law also." "what must the pope be?" "pontiff and emperor of the catholic world." "who, under him, is to govern the nations?" "the clergy." "must temporal authority, accordingly, also belong to the roman catholic and apostolic church?" "all authority flows from god. his ministers are by divine right the masters of the nations, and must be invested with full authority." "is that, then, the work in hand?" "yes, master." "are there any obstacles to its accomplishment?" "enormous ones." "what are they?" "first of all, the kings." "next?" queried loyola impatiently. "next?" "the indocility of the bourgeois classes." "next?" "the new heresy known by the name of the reformation." "next?" "the printing press, that scourge that every day and everywhere spreads its ravages." "next?" "the too publicly scandalous habits of the ecclesiastics." "and lastly?" "often the ineptness, the feebleness, the insatiable cupidity and the excesses of the papacy." "these, then, are the obstacles to the absolute rule of the catholic world by her church?" "yes, master." "is it possible to overcome these obstacles?" "we can, master, provided your spirit speaks through our mouths, and your will dictates our actions." "all honor to the lord--let's begin with the kings. what are they with regard to the popes?" "their rivals." "what should they be?" "their first subjects." "would it not be preferable for the greater glory and security of the catholic church that royalty were abolished?" "that would be preferable." "how are kings to be absolutely subordinated to the popes? or, rather, how is royalty to be destroyed?" "by causing all its subjects to rise against it." "by what process?" "by unchaining the passions of an ignorant populace; by exploiting the old commune spirit of the bourgeoisie; by fanning the hatred of the seigneurs, once the peers of kings in feudal days; by setting the people against one another." "is there a last resort for the riddance of kings?" "the dagger, or poison." "do you understand by that that a member of the church may and has the right to stab a king; may and has the right to poison a king?" "master, it is not the part of a monk to kill a king, whether openly or covertly. the king should first be paternally admonished, then excommunicated, then declared forfeit of royal authority. after that _his execution falls to others_."[ ] "and who is it that declares kings forfeit of royal authority, and thus places them under the ban of mankind, and outside the pale of human and divine law?" "either the people's voice, or an assembly of priests and theologians, or the decision of men of sense."[ ] "suppose royal authority is overthrown by murder, or otherwise, will not the power thereby fall either into the hands of the nobility and the seigneurs, or into those of the bourgeoisie, or into the hands of the populace?" "yes, but only for a short interval. if the power falls into the hands of the populace, the seigneurs, that is, the nobility and the bourgeoisie, are to be turned against the populace. if the power should fall into the hands of the bourgeoisie, then the populace and the nobility are to be turned against the bourgeoisie; finally, in case the power falls into the hands of the nobility, the bourgeoisie and the populace are to be turned against the nobility." "civil war being over, what will be the state of things?" "all powers being annihilated, the one destroyed by the other, only the catholic church will remain standing, imperishable." "you spoke of operating upon the populace, upon the bourgeoisie, upon the nobility, to the end of using these several classes for the overthrow of royal power, and subsequently of letting them loose against one another. what lever will you operate upon them?" "the direction of their conscience, especially that of their wives, through the confessional." "in what manner do you expect to be able to direct their conscience?" "by establishing maxims so sweet, so flexible, so comfortable, so complaisant to men's passions, vices and sins that the larger number of men and women will choose us for their confessors, and will thereby hand over to us the direction of their souls.[ ] to direct the souls of the living is to secure the empire of the world." "let us consider the application of this doctrine," said loyola. "suppose i am a monk, you, i suppose," he added addressing his disciples successively, "are my confessor. i say to you: 'father, it is forbidden, under penalty of excommunication, to doff, even for an instant, the garb of our order. i accuse myself of having put on lay vestments.'" "'my son,' i would answer," responded one of the disciples of ignatius, "'let us distinguish. if you doffed your religious garb in order not to soil it with some disgraceful act, such as going on a pickpocket expedition, or patronizing a gambling house, or indulging in debauchery, you obeyed a sentiment of shame, and you do not then deserve excommunication.'"[ ] "now," resumed loyola, "i am a trustee, under obligation to pay a life annuity to someone or other, and i desire his death that i may be free of the obligation; or, say, i am the heir of a rich father, and am anxious to see his last day--i accuse myself of harboring these sentiments." "'my son,' i would answer, 'a trustee may, without sin, desire the death of those who receive a pension from his trust, for the reason that what he really desires is, not the death of his beneficiary, but the cancellation of the debt. my son,' i would answer the penitent, 'you would be committing an abominable sin were you, out of pure wickedness, to desire the death of your father; but you commit no manner of sin if you harbor the wish, not with parricidal intent, but solely out of impatience to enjoy his inheritance.'"[ ] "i am a valet, and have come to accuse myself of acting as go-between in the amours of my master, and, besides, of having robbed him." "'my son,' i would answer, 'to carry letters or presents to the concubine of your master, even to assist him in scaling her window by holding the ladder, are permissible and indifferent matters, because, in your quality of servant, it is not your will that you obey, but the will of another.[ ] as to the thefts that you have committed, it is clear that if, driven by necessity, you have been forced to accept wages that are too small, you are justified in recouping your legitimate salary in some other way.'"[ ] "i am a swordsman. i accuse myself before the penitential tribunal of having fought a duel." "'my son,' i would answer, 'if in fighting you yielded, not to a homicidal impulse, but to the legitimate call to avenge your honor, you have committed no sin.'"[ ] "i am a coward. i rid myself of my enemy by murdering him from ambush. i come to make the admission to you, my confessor, and to ask absolution." "'my son,' i would answer, 'if you committed the murder, not for the sake of the murder itself, but in order to escape the dangers which your enemy might have thrown you into, in that case you have not sinned at all. in such cases it is legitimate to kill one's enemy in the absence of witnesses.'"[ ] "i am a judge. i accuse myself of having rendered a decision in favor of one of the litigants, in consideration of a present made to me by him." "'where is the wrong in that, my son?' i would ask. 'in consideration of a present you rendered a decision favorable to the giver of the gift. could you not, by virtue of your own will, have favored whom you pleased? you stand in no need of absolution.'"[ ] "i am a usurer. i accuse myself of having frequently derived large profits from my money. have i sinned according to the law of the church?" "'my son,' i would answer, 'this is the way you should in future conduct yourself in such affairs: someone asks a loan of you. you will answer: "i have no money to loan, but i have some ready to be honestly invested. if you will guarantee to reimburse me my capital, and, besides that, to pay me a certain profit, i shall entrust the sum in your hands so that you may turn it to use. but i shall not loan it to you."[ ] for the rest, my son, you have not sinned, if, however large the interest you may have received from your money, the same was looked upon by you simply as a token of gratitude, and not a condition for the loan.[ ] go in peace, my son.'" "i am a bankrupt. i accuse myself of having concealed a considerable sum from the knowledge of my creditors." "'my son,' i would answer, 'the sin is grave if you retained the sum out of base cupidity. but if your purpose was merely to insure to yourself and your family a comfortable existence, even some little luxury, you are absolved.'"[ ] "i am a woman. i accuse myself of having committed adultery, and of having in that way obtained considerable wealth from my paramour. may i enjoy that wealth with an easy conscience?" "'my daughter,' i would answer, 'the wealth acquired through gallantry and adultery has, it is true, an illegitimate source. nevertheless, its possession may be considered legitimate, seeing that no human or divine law pronounces against such possession.'"[ ] "i have stolen a large sum. i accuse myself of the theft, and ask for your absolution." "'my son,' i would answer, 'it is a crime to steal, unless one is driven thereto by extreme necessity; and even less so if grave reasons prompt the act.'"[ ] "i am rich, but i give alms sparingly, if at all. i accuse myself." "'my son,' i would answer, 'charity towards our fellows is a christian duty. nevertheless, if superfluity is needed by you, you commit no sin by not depriving yourself of those things which, in your eyes, are necessaries.[ ] i absolve you.'" "i coveted a certain inheritance. i accuse myself of having poisoned the man from whom i was to inherit. may i retain the property?" "'my son,' i would answer, 'the possession of property, acquired by unworthy means, and even through manslaughter, is legitimate, so far as possession is concerned. you may retain the property.'"[ ] "i am summoned to take an oath. my conscience forbids, my interest orders me to commit perjury. you are my confessor. i wish to consult you on the matter." "'you can, my son, reconcile your interest and your conscience. this way--i suppose you will be asked: "do you swear you did not commit such and such an act?" you will answer aloud: "i swear before god and man that i have not committed that act," and then you add mentally: "_on such and such a day_." or, you are asked: "do you swear you will never do such or such a thing?" you will answer: "i swear," and mentally you add: "_unless i change my mind; in which case i shall do the thing_."'"[ ] "i am an unmarried woman. i have yielded to a seducer. i fear the anger and reproaches of my family." "'my daughter,' i would answer, 'take courage. a woman of your age is free to dispose of her body and herself. have all the lovers you please. i absolve you.'"[ ] "i am a woman, passionately addicted to gambling. i accuse myself of having purloined some moneys from my husband, in order to repay my losses at the gaming table." "'my daughter,' i would answer, 'seeing that, between man and wife, everything is, or ought to be, in common, you have not sinned by drawing from the common purse.[ ] you may continue to do so. i absolve you.'" "i am a woman. i love ornaments. i accuse myself." "'my daughter,' i would answer, 'if you ornament yourself without impure intentions, and only in order to satisfy your natural taste for ornamentation, you do not sin.'"[ ] "i accuse myself of having seduced the wife of my best friend." "'my son,' i would answer, 'let us distinguish: if you treacherously seduced the woman just because she was the wife of your best friend, then you have sinned. but if you seduced her, as you might have done any other woman, you have not outraged friendship.[ ] it is a natural thing to desire the possession of a handsome woman. you have not sinned. there is no occasion for absolution.'" "well done!" exclaimed loyola. "but i notice you grant absolution for all that human morality and the fathers of the church condemn." "master, you said: 'absolved penitents will never complain.'" "what is the object of the complaisance of your doctrines in all circumstances?" "at this season an incurable corruption reigns among mankind. rigor would estrange them from us. our tolerance for their vices is calculated to deliver the penitents to us, body and soul. by leaving to us the direction of their souls, this corrupt generation will later relinquish to us the absolute education of their children. we will then raise those generations as may be suitable, by taking them in charge from the cradle to the grave; by molding them; by petrifying them in such manner that, their appetites being satisfied, and their minds for all time delivered from the temptation of those three infernal rebels--reason, dignity and freedom--those generations will bless their sweet servitude, and will be to us, master, what we are to you--servile slaves, body and soul, mere corpses!" "among the obstacles that our work will, or may encounter, you mentioned the papacy." "yes, master, because the elections of the sacred college may call to the pontifical throne popes that are weak, stupid or vicious." "what is the remedy at such a juncture?" "to organize, outside of the papacy, of the college of cardinals, of the episcopacy, of the regular clergy and of the religious orders, a society to whose members it shall be strictly forbidden ever to be elected pope, or to accept any catholic office, however high or however low the office may be. thus this society will ever preserve its independence of action for or against the church, free to oppose or uphold its chief." "what shall be the organization of that redoubtable society?" "a general, elected by its own members, shall have sovereign direction over it." "what pledge are its members to take towards him?" "dumb, blind and servile obedience." "what are they to be in his hands?" "that which we are in yours, o, master! instruments as docile as the cane in the hand of the man who leans upon it." "what will be the theater of the society's work?" "the whole world." "into what parts will it divide the universe?" "into provinces--the province of france, the province of spain, the province of germany, the province of england, the province of india, the province of asia, and others. each will be under the government of a 'provincial,' appointed by the general of the society." "the society being organized, what name is it to assume?" "the name of the society of jesus." "in what manner is the society of jesus to become a counterpoise to the papacy, and, if need be, dominate the papacy itself, should the latter swerve from the route it should pursue in order to insure the absolute government of the nations of the world to the catholic church?" "independent of the established church, from whom it neither expects nor demands aught--neither the purple, nor the cross, nor benefices--the society of jesus, thanks to its accommodating and tolerant doctrines, will speedily conquer the empire of the human conscience. it will be the confessor of kings and lackeys, of the mendicant monk and the cardinal, of the courtesan and the princess, the female bourgeois and her cook, of the concubine and the empress. the concert of this immense clientage, acting as one man under the breath of the society of jesus, and inspired by its general, will insure to him such a power that, at a given moment, he will be able to dictate his orders to the papacy, threatening to unchain against it all the consciences and arms over which he disposes. the general will be more powerful than the pope himself." "besides its action upon the conscience, will the society of jesus dispose over any other and secondary levers?" "yes, master, and very effective ones. whosoever, whether lay or clerical, poor or rich, woman or man, great or small, will blindly surrender his soul to the direction of the society of jesus, will always and everywhere, and against whomsoever, be sustained, protected, favored, defended and held scathless by the society and its adherents. the penitent of a jesuit will see the horizon of his most ardent hopes open before him; the path to honors and wealth will be smoothed before his feet; a tutelary mantle will cover his defects, his errors and his crimes; his enemies will be the society's enemies; it will pursue them, track them, overtake them and smite them, whoever and wherever they may be, and with all available means. thus the penitent of a jesuit may aspire to anything. to incur his resentment will be a dread ordeal." "accordingly, you have faith in the accomplishment of our work?" "an absolute faith." "from whom do you derive that faith?" "from you, master; from you, ignatius loyola, whose breath inspires us; from you, our master, him through whom we live." "the work is immense--to dominate the world! and yet there are only seven of us." "master, when you command, we are legion." "seven--only seven, my sons--without other power than our faith in our work." "master, faith removes mountains. command." "oh, my brave disciples!" exclaimed ignatius loyola rising and supporting himself with his staff. "what joy it is to me to have thus imbued you with my substance, and nourished you with the marrow of my doctrine! be up! be up! the moment for action has come. that is the reason i have caused you to gather this evening here at montmartre, where i have so often come to meditate in this hollow, this second to that cavern of manres, where, in spain, after long years of concentration, i at last perceived the full depth, the immensity of my work. yes, in order to weld you together in this work, i have broken, bent and absorbed your personalities. i have turned you into instruments of my will as docile as the cane in the hand of the man who leans upon it. yes, i have captured your souls. yes, you are now only corpses in my hands. oh, my dear corpses! my canes! my serfs! my slaves! glorify your servitude. it delivers to you the empire of the world! you will be the masters of all the men! you will be supreme rulers of all the women!" loyola's disciples listened to him in devout silence. for a moment he remained steeped in the contemplation of his portentous ambition, meditating universal domination. presently he proceeded: "we must prepare ourselves by means of the holy sacrifice of the mass for the last act of this great day. we must receive the body of jesus, we who constitute his intrepid militia! we the jesuits!" and addressing himself to lefevre: "you have brought with you the necessaries for the celebration of mass. yonder rock"--pointing to the boulder behind which christian and justin were concealed--"yonder rock will serve us for altar. come, to work, my well-beloved disciple." lefevre opened the bundle which he had taken charge of. he drew from it a surplice, a chasuble, a bible, a stole, a chalice, a little box of consecrated wafers, and two small flasks with wine and water. he clothed himself in sacerdotal garb, while one of the disciples took the wax candle, knelt down and lighted the improvised altar upon which the other jesuits were engaged in disposing the rest of the requisites for the celebration of the divine sacrifice. it was done before loyola and his disciples. the voice of lefevre, as he droned the liturgy, alone disturbed the silence of the solitude upon which the wax candle cast a flickering ruddy glow. the time for communion having come, the seven founders of the society of jesus received the eucharist with unction. the service over, loyola rose again to his feet, and with an inspired mien said to his disciples: "and now, come, come." he walked away, limping and followed by his acolytes, leaving behind them the religious implements on the block of stone. soon as the jesuits moved away, christian and justin cautiously emerged from their hiding place, astounded at the secret they had just had revealed to them. christian could still hardly believe that lefevre, one of his oldest friends, and whose sentiments inclined him to the reformation, had become a priest, and was one of the most ardent sectarians of loyola. "they are gone," justin whispered to his companion; "i have not a drop of blood left in my veins. let's flee!" "what imprudence! we might run against those fanatics. i doubt not they will come back. let us wait till they have departed." "no, no! i will not stay here another minute. i am overcome with fear." "then let us try to escape by the other issue, which, as you were telling me, runs behind this rock. come, be brave!" "i am not sure whether that passage is not now obstructed. it would be dangerous to enter it without a light. a light would betray us. let's return upon our steps." more and more frightened, justin walked rapidly towards the entrance of the quarry. christian followed, unwilling to leave him alone. the moment they were about to emerge from the subterranean cavern, their ears were struck by the sound of human voices coming from above. the moon was now high in the sky, and lighted the only path that led to the abbey. "we can not leave this place without being seen," observed justin in a low and anxious voice. "those men have gathered upon the platform above the entrance of the cave." "listen," said christian, yielding to an irresistible impulse of curiosity; "listen, they are talking." the artisans remained motionless and mute. for a moment a solemn silence reigned. presently the voice of ignatius loyola reached them as if it descended from heaven. "do you swear?" came from the founder of the society of jesus. "do you swear in the name of the living god?" "in the name of god," responded the jesuits. "we swear! we shall obey our master!" "my sons," loyola's voice resumed solemnly, "from this place you can see the four cardinal points of that world whose empire i parcel out among you, valiant soldiers of the society of jesus. down yonder, towards the north, lie the land of the muscovite, germany, england. to you, germany, england and the land of the muscovite--john lainez." "master, your will be done!" "yonder, to the east, turkey, asia, the holy land. to you, turkey, asia and the holy land--rodriguez of acevedo." "master, your will be done!" "yonder, towards the west, the new america and the indies. to you, the new america and the indies--alfonso salmeron." "master, your will be done!" "yonder, to the south, africa, italy, spain, portugal, the islands of corsica and sardinia, and the balearic isles. to you, africa, italy, spain, portugal, the islands of corsica and sardinia and the balearic isles--inigo of bobadilla. behold your empire." "master, your will be done!" "finally, here at our feet, paris, the capital of france, a world in itself. to you, paris, to you, france--john lefevre." "master, your will be done!" "beginning with to-morrow, gird up your loins. depart, staff in hand, alone, unknown. to work, soldiers of jesus! to work, jesuits! the kingdom of earth is ours! to-morrow i depart for rome, to offer or force upon the pope our invincible support." loyola's voice died away. hearing the sectarians descending from the platform, christian and justin hurried back to their hiding place, behind the huge rock upon which were the implements that lefevre had used in the celebration of the mass. the latter soon came back, followed by his companions. he doffed his sacerdotal vestments, and approached the improvised altar to gather the sacred vessels. so busied, his hand struck against the chalice, which rolled down and fell behind the rock at the place where the two artisans were crowding themselves from sight. john lefevre walked back of the rock after the chalice which had fallen close to christian's feet. the latter saw the jesuit approach; stoop down and pick up the vase, without seeming, in the demi-gloom, to notice his old friend, whom his hand almost touched, and rejoin the other disciples. "lefevre has seen us!" thought christian to himself. "it is impossible he should not have noticed us. and yet, not a word, not a gesture betrayed upon his countenance the astonishment and uneasiness into which he must have been plunged by our presence at this place, and the knowledge that we are in possession of the secret of his society." while christian was absorbed by these thoughts, lefevre, ever imperturbable, returned to his bag the objects which he used in celebrating the mass, walked out of the cavern with his companions, and whispered a few words into the ear of loyola. a slight tremor ran through the frame of the latter, who, however, immediately recovered his composure, and whispered back his answer to lefevre. the latter lowered his head in token of acquiescence. thereupon the founder of the society of jesus and his disciples disappeared in the windings of the road and reached paris. such was the origin of that infernal society. chapter xi. mother and daughter. as soon as christian returned home, late towards midnight, he hastened to communicate to his guest the occurrences at montmartre. monsieur john concluded it was urgent to assemble the chiefs of the reformation in the abandoned quarry, where there was no danger of apprehending the return of the jesuits, seeing that ignatius loyola was to depart immediately for rome, while his disciples were to scatter to the distant countries parceled out to them. finally, if, as christian persisted with good reason in believing, lefevre had noticed the presence of the two artisans at the jesuit conventicle, it would be an additional reason to keep them from returning to the spot. accordingly, monsieur john decided to convoke the chiefs of the reformation in paris for six o'clock in the afternoon of the following day at montmartre. to this effect he prepared a letter giving the directions to the trysting place. justin was to proceed in time to make certain that the second issue was practicable. furthermore, it was agreed between bridget and her husband that she would absent herself together with her daughter before sunset, in order to allow the stranger to leave the house unnoticed by hena. on his part, christian was to pretend an invitation to supper with a friend, in order to engage his son's company in a walk, and was to dismiss him when he thought that monsieur john had departed. the program was carried out as agreed. when bridget and hena returned home after a short walk along the banks of the seine, the proscribed man had quitted his hospitable refuge, and betaken him to the montmartre gate, where christian was to await him, and conduct him to the place of meeting. the artisan's wife and daughter busied themselves at their trade of embroidery. they worked in silence by the light of a lamp--bridget musing over hervé's repentance, while hena, lost in revery, frequently allowed her needle to drop inactive on her lap. the young girl was absorbed in her own thoughts, a stranger to what went on around her. the hour of nine struck from the distant clock in the tower of st. james-of-the-slaughter-house. "nine o'clock," observed bridget to herself. "my son can not be long in coming back. with what joy shall i not embrace him this evening! what a heavy load did not his repentance roll off my heart! the dear child!" and addressing hena without removing her eyes from her needlework: "god be blessed! dear child, you will no longer have cause to complain of hervé's indifference. no, no! and when my little odelin comes back from italy we shall then all live together again, happy as of old. i am awaiting with impatience the return of master raimbaud, the armorer, who will bring us back our gentle odelin." not receiving any answer from her daughter, bridget looked up and said to her: "i have been speaking to you some time, dear daughter. you do not seem to hear me. why are you so absentminded?" hena remained silent for an instant, then she smiled and answered naïvely: "singular as it may be, why should i not tell you, mother? it would be the first time in my life that i kept a secret from you." "well, my child, what is the reason of your absent-mindedness?" "it is--well, it is brother st. ernest-martyr, mother." dropping her embroidery, bridget contemplated her daughter with extreme astonishment. hena, however, proceeded with a candid smile: "does that astonish you, mother? i am, myself, a good deal more astonished." hena uttered these words with such ingenuousness, her handsome face, clear as her soul, turned to her mother with such trustfulness, that bridget, at once uneasy and confident--uneasy, by reason of the revelation; confident, by reason of hena's innocent assurance--said to her after a short pause: "indeed, dear daughter, i am astonished at what i learn from you. you saw, it seems to me, brother st. ernest-martyr only two or three times at our friend mary la catelle's, before that unhappy affair of the other evening on the bridge." "yes, mother. and that is just the extraordinary thing about it. since day before yesterday i constantly think of brother st. ernest-martyr. and that is not all. last night i dreamt of him!" "dreamt of him!" exclaimed bridget. so far from evading her mother's gaze, hena's only answer was two affirmative nods of the head, which she gave, opening wide her beautiful blue eyes, in which the childlike and charming astonishment, that her own sentiments caused her, was depicted. "yes, mother; i dreamt of him. i saw him picking up at the door of a church a poor child that shook with cold. i saw him pick up the child, hold it in his arms, warm it with his breath, and contemplate it with so pitying and tender an air, that the tears forced themselves to my eyes. i was so moved that i woke up with a start--and i really wept!" "that dream is singular, my daughter!" "singular? no! the dream is explainable enough. day before yesterday hervé was telling me of the charitable nature of brother st. ernest-martyr. that same evening we saw the poor monk carried into our house with his face bleeding. that i should have been deeply impressed, and should have dreamt of him, i understand. but what i do not understand is that when i am awake, wide awake, i should still think of him. look, even now, when i shut my eyes"--and, smiling, hena suited the action to the words--"i still see him as if he stood there, with that kind face of his that he turns upon the little children." "but, my dear daughter, when you think of brother st. ernest-martyr, what is the nature of your thoughts?" hena pondered for an instant, and then answered: "i would not know how to explain it to you, mother. when i think of him i say to myself: 'how good, how generous, how brave is brother st. ernest-martyr! day before yesterday he braved the sword to defend mary la catelle; another day, on the notre dame bridge, he leaped into the water to save an unhappy man who was drowning; he picks up little deserted children, or gives them instruction with so much interest and affection that their own father could not display more solicitude in them.'" "thinking over it, dear child, there is nothing in all that but what is perfectly natural. the brother is an upright man. your thoughts turn upon his good deeds. that's quite simple." "no, mother, it is not quite so simple as you put it! are not you all that is best in this world? is not my father as upright a man as brother st. ernest-martyr? are not you two my beloved and venerated parents? and yet--that is what puzzles me, how comes it that i oftener think of him than of either of you?" and after a pause the young maid added in an accent of adorable candor: "i tell you, mother, it is truly extraordinary!" several impatient raps, given at the street door interrupted the conversation. bridget said to her daughter: "open the window, and see who it is that knocks. probably it is your brother." "yes, mother; it is he; it is hervé," said hena, opening the window. she descended to the floor below. "my god!" thought bridget to herself in no slight agitation. "how am i to interpret the confidence of hena? her soul is incapable of dissimulation. she has told me the whole truth, without being aware of the sentiments the young monk awakens in her. i can hardly wait to inform christian of this strange discovery!" the sound of hervé's steps hurriedly ascending the stairs drew bridget from her brown study. she saw her son rush in, followed by his sister. as he stepped into the room he cried with a troubled countenance: "oh, mother! mother!" and embracing her tenderly he added: "oh, mother! what sad news i bring you!" "dear child, what is it?" "our poor mary la catelle--" "what has happened to her?" "this evening, as i was about to leave the printing shop, father asked me to accompany him part of the way. he was going to a friend's, with whom he was to take supper this evening. father said: 'la catelle's house is on our way, we shall drop in and inquire whether she is still suffering from her painful experience of the other evening'--" "yesterday morning," bridget broke in, "after i took her home with your sister, we left mary calm and at ease. she is a brave woman." "notwithstanding her firm nature and her self-control, she succumbed to the reaction of that night's excitement. last night she was seized with a high fever. she was bled twice to-day. a minute ago we found her in a desperate state. a fatal end is apprehended." "poor mary!" exclaimed hena, clasping her hands in despair, and her eyes filling with tears. "what a misfortune! this news overwhelms me with sorrow!" "unhappily her sister-in-law left yesterday for meaux with her husband," remarked hervé. "la catelle, at death's door, is left at this moment to the care of a servant." "hena, quick, my cloak!" said bridget rising precipitately from her seat. "i can not leave that worthy friend to the care of mercenary hands. i shall run to her help." "good, dear mother, you but forestall father's wishes," observed hervé, as his sister hurried to take bridget's cloak out of a trunk. "father told me to hurry and notify you of this misfortune. he said he knew how attached you were to our friend, and that you would wish to spend the night at her bed, and render her the care she stands in need of." wrapping herself in her cloak, bridget was about to leave the house. "mother," said hena, "will you not take me with you?" "how can you think of such a thing, child, at this hour of night!" "sister, it is for me to escort mother," put in hervé; and, with a tender voice, accompanied with the offer of his forehead for bridget to kiss, the hypocrite added: "is it not the sweetest of my duties to watch over you, good mother?" "oh," said bridget, moved, and kissing her son's forehead, "i recognize you again, my son!" with this passing allusion to the painful incidents of the last few days, which she had already forgiven, the unsuspecting mother proceeded: "a woman of my age runs no risk on the street, my son; besides, i do not wish your sister to remain alone in the house." "i am not afraid, mother," hena responded. "i shall bolt the door from within. i shall feel easier that way than to have you go out without company at this hour of night. why, mother, remember what happened to la catelle night before last! let hervé go with you." "mother," put in hervé, "you hear what my dear sister says." "children, we are losing precious time. let us not forget that, at this hour, our friend may be expiring in the hands of a stranger. good-bye!" "how unlucky that just to-day our uncle should have gone to st. denis!" put in hervé with a sigh. but seeming to be struck with an idea he added: "mother, why could not both hena and i accompany you?" "oh, darling brother, you deserve an embrace, twenty embraces, for that bright thought," said the young girl, throwing her arms around hervé's neck. "it is agreed, mother, we shall all three go together." "impossible. the house can not be left alone, children. who will open the door to your father when he comes home? besides, did not master simon send us yesterday a little bag of pearls to embroider on the velvet gown for the duchess of etampes? the pearls are of considerable value. i would feel very uneasy if these valuable articles remained without anybody to watch them. knowing you are here, hervé, i shall feel easy on that score," remarked bridget with a look of affectionate confidence that seemed to say to her son: "yesterday you committed larceny; but you are now again an honorable boy; to-day i can entrust you with the guardianship of my treasure." hervé divined his mother's thoughts. he raised her hand to his lips and said: "your trust in me shall be justified." "still, this very evening, shortly before nightfall, we left the house all alone for a walk along the river," objected hena. "why should we run any greater risk now, if we go out all three of us?" "dear daughter, it was then still light; the shops of our neighbors were still open; burglars would not have dared to make a descent upon us at such a time. at this hour, on the contrary, all the shops being closed, and the streets almost deserted, thieves are in season." "and it is just at such an hour that you are going to expose yourself, mother." "i have nothing about me to tempt the cupidity of thieves. good-bye! good-bye, my children!" bridget said hastily, and embracing hena and her brother: "to-morrow morning, my dear girl, your father will take you to la catelle's, where you will find me. we shall return home together. hervé, light me downstairs." preceded by her son, who carried the lamp, bridget quickly descended the stairs and left the house. chapter xii. herve's dementia. no sooner had hervé closed the street door upon his mother than he slowly re-ascended the stairs to the upper chamber, saying to himself: "it will take my mother an hour to reach la catelle's house; at least as long to return; father will not be home until midnight; i have two full hours to myself. they shall be turned to profit." pressing with a convulsive hand against his heart the scapulary containing tezel's letter of absolution, hervé entered the room in which hena was left alone. from the threshold hervé saw his sister on her knees. astonished at her posture, he stepped towards her and asked: "hena, what are you doing?" "i was praying to god that he may guard mother, and restore our friend to health," answered the young girl, rising; and she proceeded with a sigh: "my heart feels heavy. may no misfortune threaten us." saying this, the confiding girl sat down to her embroidery. her brother took a seat beside her on a stool. after a few seconds he broke the silence: "hena, do you remember that about three months ago i suddenly changed towards you?" not a little surprised at these opening words, the young girl answered: "why recall those evil days, brother? thank heaven, they are over; they will not return." "do you remember," hervé proceeded without noticing his sister's words, "do you remember that, so far from returning, i repelled your caresses?" "i do not wish to remember that, hervé; i do not think of it now." "hena, the reason was i had made a strange discovery in my heart--i loved you!" the young girl dropped her needle, turned suddenly towards her brother, and, fixing upon him her astonished eyes, looked at him for a moment in silence. thereupon, smiling, and in accents of tender reproach, she said: "how! were you so long making the discovery that you loved me? and did the discovery seem to you--strange?" "yes," answered hervé, ignoring the childlike reproach implied in his sister's words; "yes, the discovery was slow--yes, it seemed to me strange. long did i struggle against that sentiment; my nights were passed sleepless." "you slept no more because you loved me? that's odd!" "because i loved you--" "come, hervé, it is not handsome to joke about so painful a subject. do you forget the sorrow that fell on us all when, all of a sudden, we saw you become so somber, so silent, and almost to seem indifferent to us? our dear little odelin, who departed since then to milan with master raimbaud, was probably less saddened by the thought of leaving us, than by your coolness for us all." "remorse gave me neither peace, nor rest. alas, i say correctly, remorse." "remorse?" repeated the young girl stupefied. "i do not understand you." "the tortures of my soul, coupled with a vague instinct of hope, drove me to the feet of a holy man. he listened to me at the confessional. he unrolled before my eyes the inexhaustible resources of the faith. well, my remorse vanished; peace re-entered my heart. now, hena, i love you without remorse and without internal struggles. i love you in security." "well, if that is the game, i shall proceed with my embroidery," said the young girl; and picking up her needle, she resumed her work, adding in a playful tone: "seeing that the seigneur hervé loves me without remorse and in security, all is said--although, for my part, i do not fathom those big words 'struggles' and 'tortures' with regard to the return of the affection of the seigneur hervé for a sister who loves him as much as she is beloved." but speedily dropping the spirit of banter and sadly raising her eyes to her brother's, she continued: "here, my friend, i must quit jesting. you have long suffered. you seemed whelmed with a secret sorrow. come, what was the cause? i am still in the dark thereon. acquaint me with it." "the cause was love for you, hena!" "still at it? come, hervé, i am but a very ignorant girl, beside you who know latin. but when you say that the cause of your secret sorrow was your attachment for me--" "i said love, hena--" "love, attachment, tenderness--is it not all one?" "you spoke to me day before yesterday of brother st. ernest-martyr." "i did. and only a short time ago i was talking about him with mother--" suddenly breaking off, hena exclaimed: "good god! dear, good mother! when i think of her being all alone at this hour on the street, without anyone to protect her!" "be not alarmed. our mother runs no danger whatever." "may heaven hear you, hervé!" "let us return to brother st. ernest-martyr, of whom you were just before speaking with mother. do you love the monk in the same manner that you love me?" "can the two things be compared? i have spent my life beside you; you are my brother--on the other hand, i have seen that poor monk but five or six times, and then for a minute only." "you love him--do not lie!" "my god! in what a tone you speak, hervé. i have nothing to conceal." "do you love that monk?" "certainly--just as one loves all that is good and just. i know the generous actions of brother st. ernest-martyr. you, yourself, only a few days ago, told me a very touching deed done by him." "do you constantly think of the monk?" "constantly, no. but this very evening i was saying to mother that i was astonished i thought so frequently of him." "hena, suppose our parents thought of marrying you, and that the young monk, instead of being a clergyman, was free, could become your husband and loved you--would you wed him?" "what a crazy supposition!" "let us suppose all i have said--that he is not a monk and loves you; if our parents gave their consent to the marriage, would you accept that man for your husband?" "dear brother, you are putting questions to me--" "you would wed him with joy," hervé broke in with hollow voice, fixing upon his sister a jealous and enraged eye that escaped her, seeing the embroidery on which she was engaged helped her conceal the embarrassment that the singular interrogatory to which she was being subjected threw her into. nevertheless, the girl's natural frankness regained the upper hand, and without raising her eyes to her brother, hena answered: "why should i not consent to wed an honorable man, if our parents approved the marriage?" "accordingly, you love the monk! yes, you love him passionately! the thought of him obsesses you. your grief and the sorrow that day before yesterday you felt when he was carried wounded into the house, the tears i surprised in your eyes--all these are so many symptoms of your love for him!" "hervé, i know not why, but your words alarm me, they disconcert me, they freeze my heart, they make me feel like weeping. i did not feel that way this evening when i conversed with mother about brother st. ernest-martyr. besides, your face looks gloomy, almost enraged." "i hate that monk to death!" "my god! what has he done to you?" "what has he done to me?" repeated hervé. "you love him! that is his crime!" "brother!" cried hena, rising from her work to throw herself on the neck of her brother and holding him in a tight embrace. "utter not such words! you make me wretched!" convulsed with despair, hervé pressed his sister passionately to his breast and covered her forehead and hair with kisses, while hena, innocently responding to his caresses, whispered with gentle emotion: "good brother, you are no longer angry, are you? if you only knew my alarm at seeing you look so wicked!" a heavy knock resounded at the street door, followed immediately by the sonorous and merry voice of the franc-taupin singing his favorite song: "a franc-taupin had an ash-tree bow, all eaten with worms, and all knotted its cord; _derideron, vignette on vignon!! derideron!_" a tremor ran through hervé. quickly recalling himself, he ran to the casement, opened it, and leaning forward, cried out: "good evening, uncle!" "dear nephew, i am back from st. denis. i did not wish to return to paris without telling you all good-day!" "oh, dear uncle, a great misfortune has happened! la catelle is dying. she sent for mother, who left at once. i could not accompany her, being obliged to remain here with hena in father's absence. we feel uneasy at the thought that mother may have to come back all alone on this dark night." "all alone! by the bowels of st. quenet, of what earthly use am i, if not to protect my sister!" replied josephin. "i shall start on a run to la catelle's, and see your mother home. be not uneasy, my lad. when i return i shall embrace you and your sister, if you are not yet in bed." the franc-taupin hastened away. hervé shut the window, and returned in a state of great excitement to hena, who inquired: "why did you induce uncle to go to-night after mother? she is to stay all night at la catelle's. why do you not answer me? why is your face so lowering? my god! what ails you? brother, brother, do not look upon me with such eyes! i am trembling all over." "hena, i love you--i love you carnally!" "i--do not comprehend--what--you say. i do not understand your words. you now frighten me. your eyes are bloodshot." "the kind of love you feel for that monk--that love i feel for you! i love you with a passionate desire." "hervé, you are out of your mind. you do not know what you say!" "i must possess you!" "good god, am i also going crazy? do my eyes--do my ears deceive me?" "hena--you are beautiful! sister, i adore you--" "do not touch me! mercy! hervé, brother, you are demented! recognize me--it is i--hena--your own sister--it is i who am here before you--on my knees." "come, come into my arms!" "help! help! mother! father!" "mother is far away--father also. we are alone--in the dark--and i have received absolution! you shall be mine, will ye nil ye!" the monster, intent upon accomplishing his felony in obscurity, knocked down the lamp with his fist, threw himself upon hena, and gripped her in his arms. the girl slipped away from him, reached the staircase that led to the lower floor, and bounded down. hervé rushed after her, and seized her as she was about to clear the lowest steps. the distracted child called for help. holding her with one hand, her brother tried to gag her with the other, lest her cries be heard by the neighbors. suddenly the street door was thrown open, flooding the room with moonlight, and disclosing bridget on the threshold. thunderstruck, the mother perceived her daughter struggling in the arms of her brother, and still, though in a smothered voice, crying: "help! help!" the wretch, now rendered furious at the danger of his victim's escaping him, and dizzy with the vertigo of crime, did not at first recognize bridget. he flung hena behind him, and seizing a heavy iron coal-rake from the fireplace, was about to use it for a club, not even recoiling before murder in order to free himself from an importunate witness. already the dangerous weapon was raised when, by the light of the moon, the incestuous lad discovered the features of his mother. "save yourself, mother," cried hena between her sobs; "he is gone crazy; he will kill you. only your timely help saved me from his violent assault." "infamous boy!" cried the mother. "that, then, was your purpose in removing me from the house. god willed that half way to la catelle's i met her brother-in-law--" "be gone!" thundered back hervé, a prey to uncontrollable delirium; and raising the iron coal-rake which he had lowered under the first impulse of surprise at the sight of his mother, he staggered towards bridget yelling: "be gone!" "matricide! dare you raise that iron bar against me--your mother?" "all my crimes are absolved in advance! incest--parricide--all are absolved! be gone, or i kill you!" hardly were these appalling words uttered, when the sound of numerous and rapidly approaching steps penetrated into the apartment through the door that bridget had left open. almost immediately a troop of patrolling archers, under the command of a sergeant-at-arms, and led by a man in a black frock with the cowl drawn over his head, halted and drew themselves up before the house of christian. the franc-taupin had met them a short distance from the exchange bridge. a few words, exchanged among the soldiers, notified him of the errand they were on. alarmed at what he overheard, he had quickly retraced his steps and followed them at a distance. the sergeant in command stepped in at the very moment that hervé uttered the last menace to his mother. "does christian lebrenn dwell here?" asked the soldier. "answer quickly." ready to sink distracted, bridget was not at first able to articulate a word. hena gathered strength to rise from the floor where hervé had flung her, and ran to bridget, into whose arms she threw herself. hervé dropped at his feet the iron implement he had armed himself with, and remained motionless, savage of mien, his arms crossed over his breast. the man whose face was hidden by the cowl of his black frock--that man was john lefevre, the disciple of ignatius loyola--whispered a few words in the ear of the sergeant. the latter again addressed bridget, now in still more peremptory tones: "is this the dwelling of christian lebrenn, a typesetter by trade?" "yes," answered bridget, and greatly alarmed by the visit of the soldiers, she added: "my husband is not at home. he will not be back until late." "you are the wife of christian lebrenn?" resumed the sergeant, and pointing to hena and then to hervé: "that young girl and that young man are your children, are they not? by order of monsieur john morin, the criminal lieutenant, i am commissioned to arrest christian lebrenn, a printer, his wife, his son and his daughter as being charged with heresy, and to take them to a safe place." "my husband is not at home!" cried bridget, her first thought being to the safety of christian, although herself stupefied with fear at the threatened arrest. that instant, and standing a few steps behind the archers, the franc-taupin, taller by a head than the armed troop before him, caught the eyes of bridget. with a sign he warned her to keep silent. he then bent his long body in two, and vanished. "do you want to make us believe your husband is not at home?" resumed the sergeant. "we shall search the house." then turning to his men: "bind the hands of that young man, of the young girl and of the woman, and keep guard over the prisoners." john lefevre, his face still concealed under the cowl of his frock, could not be recognized by bridget. he knew the inmates of the house, at whose hearth he had often sat as a friend. he motioned to the sergeant to follow him, and taking a lanthorn from the hand of one of the archers, mounted the stairs, entered the chamber of the married couple, and pointing with his finger to a cabinet in which christian kept his valuables, said to him: "the papers in question must be in there, in a little casket of black wood." the key stood in the lock of the cabinet. the sergeant opened the two doors. from one of the shelves he took down a casket of considerable proportions. "that is the one," said john lefevre. "give it to me. i shall place it in the hands of monsieur the criminal lieutenant." "that christian must be hiding somewhere," remarked the sergeant, looking under the bed, and behind the curtains. "it is almost certain," answered john lefevre. "he rarely goes out at night. there is all the greater reason to expect to find him in at this hour, seeing he spent part of last night out of the house." "why did they not try to arrest him during the day at the printing office of monsieur estienne?" the sergeant inquired while keeping up his search. "he could not have been missed there." "as to that, my friend, i shall say, in the first place, that, due to the untoward absence of monsieur the criminal lieutenant, who was summoned early this morning to cardinal duprat's palace, our order of arrest could not be delivered until too late in the evening. in the second place, you know as well as i that the artisans of monsieur estienne are infected with heresy; they are armed; and might have attempted to resist the arrest of their companion. no doubt the archers would have prevailed in the end. but christian might have made his escape during the struggle, whereas the chances were a thousand to one he could be taken by surprise at his house, in the dark, along with his family." "and yet he still escapes us," observed the sergeant, after some fresh searches. noticing the door of hena's chamber, he entered and rummaged that room also, with no better results, and said: "nothing in this direction either." "come, let us investigate the garret. give me the lanthorn, and follow me. if he is not there either, then we must renounce his capture for to-night. fortunately we got the woman and the children--besides this," added the jesuit, tapping upon the casket under his arm. "we shall find christian, sure enough." saying this, john lefevre opened the panel leading to the nook where stood the ladder to the attic; he climbed it, followed by the sergeant, arrived in the garret which had served as refuge to the unknown, noticed the mattress, some crumbs of bread and the remains of some fruit, pens and an inkhorn on a stool, and, scattered over the floor, fragments of paper covered with a fine and close handwriting. "somebody was hiding here, and spent some time, too!" exclaimed the sergeant excitedly. "this mattress, these pens, indicate the presence of a stranger of studious habits;" and running to the dormer window that opened upon the river, he mused: "can christian have made his escape by this issue?" while the archer renewed his search, vainly rummaging every nook and corner of the garret, john lefevre carefully collected the bits of paper that were strewn over the floor, assorted them, and kneeling down beside the stool, on which he placed the lanthorn, examined the manuscript intently. suddenly a tremor ran over his frame, and turning to the sergeant he said: "there is every reason to believe that christian lebrenn is not in the house. i think i can guess the reason of his absence. nevertheless, before quitting the place we must search the bedroom of his two sons. it is in the rear of the ground floor room. let us hurry. your expedition is not yet ended. we shall probably have to leave paris to-night, and carry our investigation further." "leave paris, reverend father?" "yes, perhaps. but i shall first have to notify the criminal lieutenant. what a discovery! to be able at one blow to crush the nest of vipers!--_ad majorem dei gloriam!_"[ ] john lefevre and the sergeant re-descended to the ground floor. after a few whispered words to the soldier, the jesuit departed, carrying with him the casket in which the chronicles of the lebrenn family were locked. the chamber occupied by hervé was ransacked as vainly as had been the other apartments of the house. during these operations bridget had striven to allay the fright of her daughter. hervé, somber and sullen, his hands bound like his mother's and sister's, remained oblivious to what was happening around him. giving up the capture of christian, the sergeant returned to his prisoners and announced to bridget that he was to carry both her and her children away with him. the poor woman implored him to take pity on her daughter who was hardly able to keep her feet. the sergeant answered harshly, that if the young heretic was unable to walk she would be stripped and dragged naked over the streets. finally, addressing his archers, he concluded: "three of you are to remain in this house. when christian raps to be let in you will open the door, and seize his person." bridget could not repress a moan of anguish at hearing the order. christian, she reflected, was fatedly bound to fall into the trap, as he would return home unsuspecting. the three archers locked themselves up on the ground floor. the others, led by their chief, left the house, and, taking bridget and her two children with them, marched away to lead them to prison. "for mercy's sake," said the unhappy mother to the sergeant, "untie my hands that i may give my daughter the support of my arm. she is so feeble that it will be impossible for her to follow us." "that's unnecessary," answered the sergeant. "on the other side of the bridge you will be separated. you are not to go to the same prison as your daughter." "good god! where do you mean to take her to?" "to the augustinian convent. you are to go to the chatelet. come, move on, move quickly." hervé, who had until then remained sullenly impassive, said impatiently to the sergeant: "if i am to be taken to a convent, i demand to go to the cordeliers." "the criminal lieutenant is to decide upon that," replied the sergeant. after a short wait, the archers took up their march. alas! how shall the pain and desolation of hena and her mother be described at learning they were not to be allowed even the consolation of suffering this latest trial in each other's company? nevertheless, a ray of hope lighted bridget's heart. her last words with the sergeant had been exchanged near the cross that stood in the middle of the bridge, and close to which the archers were passing at the time. christian's wife saw the franc-taupin on his knees at the foot of the crucifix, gesticulating wildly, raising his head and crying out like a frantic devotee: "lord! lord! _thy eye has seen everything. thy ear has heard everything_; there is nothing hidden from thee. have pity upon me, miserable sinner, that i am! thanks to thee _he will be saved_. i hope so! in the name of the most holy trinity." "there is a good catholic who will not fail to be saved," said the sergeant, making the sign of the cross and looking at the kneeling figure of the franc-taupin, who furiously smote his chest without intermission, while the archers redoubled their pace and marched away, dragging their prisoners behind them. "god be blessed!" said bridget to herself, understanding the information that josephin meant to convey. "my brother has seen everything and heard everything. he will remain in the neighborhood of the house. he expects to save christian from the danger that threatens him. he will inform christian that his daughter has been taken to the augustinian convent and i to the chatelet prison." such indeed was the purpose of the franc-taupin. when the archers had disappeared he drew near to christian's house and contemplated it sadly and silently by the light of the moon. accidentally his eyes fell upon a scapulary that had dropped near the threshold. he recognized it, having more than once seen it hanging on the breast of hervé. the strings of the relic had snapped during the struggle of hena with her brother, and the bag being thus detached from hervé's neck it had slipped down between his shirt and his jacket, and dropped to the ground. the franc-taupin picked up the relic, and opened it mechanically. finding therein the letter of absolution, he ran his eye hurriedly over the latter, and at once replaced it in the scapulary. chapter xiii. calvinists in council. while the events narrated in the previous chapter were occurring at his house, christian lebrenn was climbing in the company of his mysterious guest the slope of montmartre, along the path that led to the abbey. "monsieur lebrenn," said monsieur john, who had been in deep silence, "i should feel guilty of an act of ingratitude and of mistrust were i any longer to withhold from you my name. perhaps it is not unknown to you. i am john calvin." "i feel happy, monsieur, in having given asylum to the chief of the reformation, to the valiant apostle who has declared war to catholicism, and who propagates the new ideas in france." "alas, our cause already counts its martyrs by the thousands. who knows but i may soon be added to their number? my life is in the hands of the lord." "our enemies are powerful." "among these, the most redoubtable ones will be the jesuits, the sectarians whose secret you surprised. their purposes were not so well concealed but that i already had intimation of the endeavors of their chief to gather around himself active, devoted and resolute men. hence the lively interest i felt in the narrative of your relative, the one-time page of ignatius loyola, when the latter was still a military chieftain. that revelation, coupled with yours, has given me the key to the character of the founder of the society of jesus, his craving after power, and the means that he uses in order to satisfy his ambition. the military discipline, that turns the soldier into a passive instrument of his captain, is to be applied to the domination of souls, which are to be rendered no less passive, no less servile. his project is to center in himself, to direct and to subjugate human conscience, thanks to a doctrine that extenuates and encourages the most detestable passions. ignatius loyola said the word: 'the penitent of a jesuit will see the horizon of his most ardent hopes open before him; all paths will be smoothed before his feet; a tutelary mantle will cover his defects, his errors and his crimes; to incur his resentment will be a dreaded ordeal.'" "i shuddered as i heard that man distribute the empire of the world among his disciples in the name of such an impious doctrine. it cannot choose--the painful admission must be made--but impart to the jesuits a formidable power until man be regenerated. thanks, however, to god, the reformation also now counts fervent adepts." "the disciples of the reformation are still few in number, but their influence upon the masses of the people is no less extensive, due to the moral force of our doctrine. all straightforward, pure and generous souls are with us. men of learning, poets, merchants, enlightened artisans like yourself, monsieur lebrenn; rich men, bourgeois, artists, professors; even military men will gather this evening at our meeting to confess the true evangelium." "civil war is a fearful extremity. all the same, the day may come when the men of arms will be needed by the reformation." "may that untoward day never arrive! my opinion is that patience, resignation and respect for the laws and the crown should be carried to the utmost limit possible. nevertheless, should the sword have to be drawn, not for the purpose of imposing the evangelical church through violence, but for the purpose of defending our lives, and the lives of our brothers, i should not, then, hesitate to call upon the men of arms who are partisans of the reformation. among these, it is my belief, we shall number a young man who has barely emerged from adolescence, and who gives promise of becoming a great captain at maturer age. he is called gaspard of coligny. his father bore himself bravely in the late wars of italy and germany. he died leaving his sons still in their childhood. madam coligny raised them in the evangelical faith. about a year ago i found a place of refuge under her roof, at her castle of chatillon-on-the-loing, in burgundy. i there met her eldest son, gaspard. the precocious intellectual maturity of the lad, his devotion to our cause, awakened in me the best of hopes. he will be one of the pillars of the new temple--besides a terrible enemy raised against the pope and satan." "monsieur," put in christian, interrupting john calvin in a low voice, "we are shadowed. i have noticed for some little while three men not far behind us, who seem to be timing their steps to ours." "let us stop, let us allow them to pass. we shall ascertain whether they are bent upon following us. they may be friends, like ourselves bound to our assembly." christian and john calvin halted. shortly they were passed by three men clad in dark colors, and all three carrying swords. one of these seemed, as he passed closely by john calvin, to scan his face intently in the moonlight. a moment later, after having proceeded a little distance with his friends, he left them, retraced his steps, and walking towards christian and his companion, said, courteously touching his cap with his hand: "monsieur calvin, i am happy to meet you." "monsieur coligny!" exclaimed the reformer gladly. "you did come--as i hoped you would." "it was natural i should respond to the summons of him whose doctrines i share, and for whom my mother entertains so much esteem and affection." "are the two gentlemen you are with of our people, monsieur coligny?" "yes. one is french, the other a foreigner, both devoted to our cause. i have felt safe to bring them to our assembly. i vouch for them, as for myself. the foreigner is a german prince, charles of gerolstein, a cousin of the prince of deux-ponts, and, like him, one of the boldest followers of luther. my other friend, a younger son of count neroweg of plouernel, one of the great seigneurs of brittany and auvergne, is as zealous in favor of the reformation as his elder brother for the maintenance of the privileges and dominion of the church of rome." "sad divisions of the domestic hearth!" observed john calvin with a sigh. "it is to be hoped the truth of the evangelium may penetrate and enlighten all the hearts of the great family of christ!" "may that era of peace and harmony soon arrive, monsieur calvin," replied gaspard of coligny. "the arrival of that great day is anxiously desired by my friend gaston, the viscount of plouernel and captain of the regiment of brittany. with all his power has he propagated the reformation in his province. to draw you his picture with one stroke, i shall add that my mother has often said to me i could not choose a wiser and more worthy friend than gaston neroweg, the viscount of plouernel." "the judgment of a mother, and such a mother as madam coligny, is not likely to go astray regarding her son's choice of his friends," answered john calvin. "our cause is the cause of all honorable people. i would like to express to your friends my great gratification at the support they bring to us." gaspard of coligny stepped ahead to inform his friends of john calvin's wish that they be introduced to him. upon hearing the name of the viscount of plouernel, christian had started with surprise. accident was bringing him in friendly contact with one of the descendants of the nerowegs, that stock of frankish seigneurs which the sons of joel the gaul had, in the course of generations, so often encountered, to their sorrow. he felt a sort of instinctive repulsion for the viscount of plouernel, and cast upon him uneasy and distrustful looks as, accompanied by gaspard of coligny and prince charles of gerolstein, he stepped towards john calvin. while the latter was exchanging a few words with his new friends, christian examined the descendant of neroweg with curiosity. his features reproduced the typical impress of his race--bright-blonde hair, aquiline nose, round and piercing eyes. nevertheless, the artisan was struck by the expression of frankness and kindness that rendered the young man's physiognomy attractive. "gentlemen," said john calvin, whose voice interrupted the meditations of christian, "i am happy, in my turn, to introduce you to one of ours, monsieur lebrenn, a worthy coadjutor in the printing office of our friend robert estienne. monsieur lebrenn has incurred no little danger in affording hospitality to me. moreover, it is to him we are indebted for the discovery of the locality where we are to meet to-night." "monsieur," replied gaspard of coligny addressing christian with emotion, "my friends and i share the sentiments of gratitude that monsieur john calvin entertains for you." "besides that, monsieur lebrenn," added neroweg, the viscount of plouernel, "i am delighted to meet one of the assistants of the illustrious robert estienne. all that we, men of arms and war, have to place at the service of the cause of religious liberty is our sword; but you and your companions in your pursuit, you operate a marvelous talisman--the press! glory to that invention! light follows upon darkness. no longer is holy writ, in whose name the church of rome imposed so many secular idolatries upon the people, an impenetrable mystery. its truth owes to the press its second revelation. finally, thanks to the effect of the press, the hope is justified that evangelical fraternity will one day reign on earth!" "you speak truly, monsieur plouernel. yes, the invention of the press bears the mark of god's hand," observed john calvin. "but the night advances. our friends are surely waiting for us. let us move on, and join them." with gaspard of coligny on one side, and the viscount of plouernel on the other, john calvin, the great promoter of the new doctrines, proceeded to climb the slope of the hill of montmartre. much to his regret, the extreme astonishment that the affable words of the descendant of the plouernels threw him into, deprived christian of the power to formulate an answer. he followed john calvin in silence, without noticing that, for some time, prince charles of gerolstein was examining him with increasing attention. this seigneur, a man in the full vigor of life, tall of stature, of a strong but open countenance, fell a little behind his friends and joined christian, whom he thus addressed after walking a few steps beside him: "believe me, monsieur, if, a minute ago, i failed to render just praise, as my friends did, to the courageous hospitality you accorded john calvin, i do not, therefore, appreciate any the less the generosity of your conduct. it was that your name fell strangely upon my senses. it awoke within me numerous recollections--family remembrances." "my name, prince?" "spare me that princely title. christ said: 'all men are equal before god.' we are all brothers. your name is lebrenn? is armorican brittany the cradle of your family?" "yes, monsieur. it is." "did your family live near the sacred stones of karnak, before the conquest of gaul by julius caesar?" christian looked at charles of gerolstein without attempting to conceal his astonishment at meeting a stranger acquainted with incidents that ran back so many centuries in his family's history. the prince pursued his interrogatory: "towards the middle of the eighth century, one of your ancestors, ewrag by name, and son of vortigern, one of the most intrepid defenders of the independence of brittany, and grandson of amael, who knew charlemagne, left his native land to take up his home in the lands of the far north." "yes, after the great armorican insurrection. during that uprising the bretons appealed for aid to the northman pirates, who had established themselves at the mouth of the loire. ewrag afterwards embarked for the north with those sea-faring peoples." "did he not leave behind two brothers?" "rosneven and gomer." "ewrag, who first settled down in denmark, had a grandson named gaëlo. in the year he was one of the pirate chiefs who came down and besieged paris under the command of old rolf, later duke of normandy. gaëlo was recognized as a member of your family by eidiol, at that time dean of the parisian skippers." "yes, indeed. gaëlo was taken wounded into the house of my ancestor eidiol. while dressing the wound of the northman pirate, the words 'brenn--karnak' were discovered, traced with indelible letters on his arm. it was a custom, often followed in those disastrous days, when ware or slavery frequently scattered a family to the four winds. they hoped, thanks to the indelible marks, to recognize one another should fresh upheavals happen to throw them again in one another's way." "after wedding the beautiful shigne, one of the buckler maidens who joined the expedition of rolf, gaëlo returned to the north. since then there have been no tidings of him." "yes. for all these past centuries we have remained in ignorance concerning that branch of our family. but, monsieur, i cannot understand how you, a german prince, can possess such exact information of my humble family, which, besides, is of gallic race. i wish you would explain yourself." christian was interrupted by john calvin, who, turning back, said to him: "here we are at the top of the hill. which path are we to follow now out of the many in sight? be so good as to lead us out of this maze." "i shall walk ahead, and show you the path to follow," answered christian. as christian hastened his steps to take the lead of the group, the prince of gerolstein said to him: "i can not at this moment carry on the conversation that for a thousand reasons i am anxious to hold with you. where could i meet you again?" "i live on the exchange bridge, facing the right side of the cross as you come from the louvre." "i shall call upon you to-morrow evening, monsieur lebrenn;" and extending his hand to the artisan, prince charles of gerolstein added: "give me your hand, christian lebrenn, we are of the same blood. the cradle of my own stock is old armorican gaul. the course of the centuries, and the accidents of conquest have raised my house to sovereign rank, but it is of plebeian origin." after cordially clasping the hand of the amazed christian, the prince rejoined john calvin and his friends. at that moment, justin, who had been stationed on the lookout at the head of the rocky path that led to the quarry, walked rapidly up to his fellow workman, saying: "i had begun to feel uneasy. all the persons who have been convoked to the meeting have arrived long ago. i counted sixty-two. i am here on the lookout. master robert estienne requested one of our friends to plant himself near the mouth of the excavation leading to the underground issue of the cavern. you know that gallery, cut behind the large rock, which recently sheltered us from the eyes of loyola and his disciples. i inspected the passage this morning. it is open." "in case of danger you will run and notify the assembly. i understand." "from his side also master robert estienne's friend will give the alarm in case of need. it is not likely the quarry will be invaded by both passages at once. one will always remain free. our friends can deliberate in perfect safety." "if the gathering is not disturbed by some accident, friend justin, i shall return by this path and we shall reenter paris together." "agreed. our arrangements are made." a moment later, christian, john calvin and his friends entered the quarry. there they found assembled the leading partisans of the reformation in paris--lawyers, literary men, rich merchants, seigneurs, courtiers and men of arms and of science. thus, besides gaspard of coligny, prince charles of gerolstein and the viscount of plouernel, there were present the following personages of distinction: john dubourg, a parisian draper of st. denis street; etienne laforge, a rich bourgeois; anthony poille, an architect, and brother-in-law of mary la catelle, who, herself, had been invited as one of the most useful promoters of the reformation; clement marot, one of the most renowned poets of those days; a young and learned surgeon named ambroise paré, the hope of his art and science, a charitable man who opened his purse even to the sufferers whom he attended; and bernard palissy, a potter, whose work will be imperishable, and who is as well versed in alchemy as he is celebrated in sculpture. a small number of chiefs of guilds were also present. the guilds, being plunged in ignorance, were still under the influence of the monks, and entertained a blind hatred for the reformation. a few wax candles, brought along by several of the persons present, lighted the bowels of the cavern and threw a flickering glamor upon those grave and thoughtful faces. when john calvin entered the cavern he was recognized by some of the reformers. his name immediately flew from mouth to mouth. those who had not yet seen him drew nearer to contemplate him. the resolute stamp of his character was reflected upon his pensive countenance. a profound silence ensued. the reformers ranked themselves in a circle around their apostle. he stepped upon a block of stone in order to be better heard, and proceeded to address them: "my dear brothers, i have just traversed the larger portion of france. i have conferred with most of our pastors and friends in order to determine in concert with them the articles of faith of the evangelical religion, the basis of which was laid by the immortal luther. if the formula of our common belief is adopted by you, such as it has been adopted by most of our friends, the unity of the reformed church will be an established thing. this is our credo:[ ] "'we believe and confess that there is one only god, a sole, spiritual, eternal, invisible, infinite, incomprehensible, immutable essence, who is all-powerful, all-wise, all-good, all-just and all-merciful.'" "that we believe; that we confess," answered the reformers. "'we believe and confess,'" continued calvin, "'that god manifests himself as such to man by creation, and by the preservation and guidance of creation; furthermore, by the revelation of his word, gathered by moses, and which constitutes what we call holy writ, contained in the canonical books of the old and the new testament.'" "that is the book; the only book; the code of good and evil; the instructor of men and of children alike; the divine source of all goodness, all power, all consolation, all hope!" responded the reformers. "moses was a disciple of the priests of memphis. i can well see how he gave out this or that egyptian dogma, as emanating from divine revelation--but that remains, however, a hypothesis. i do not accept the pretended sacredness of the texts," said christian lebrenn, apart; while calvin continued: "'we believe and confess that the word contained in the sacred books, which proceed from god to man, is the norm of all truth; that it is not allowable for man to change the same in aught; that custom, judgments, edicts, councils and miracles must in no manner be opposed to holy writ, but, on the contrary, must be reformed by it.'" "we want the word of god pure and simple. we want it disengaged of all the romish impostures, that, for centuries, have falsified and perverted it," the reformers replied. "here," said christian, again to himself, "here starts the freedom of inquiry. that is the reason for my adherence to the reformation." calvin resumed: "'we believe and confess that holy writ teaches us that the divine essence consists of three persons--the father, the son and the holy ghost, and that this trinity is the source of all visible and invisible things. that is our belief.'" "it is an article of faith with us; it is the foundation of our religion," chorused the reformers, while christian lebrenn added, to himself: "this also belongs to the domain of hypothesis--and of religious absurdities. one more article of faith to be rejected." "'we believe and confess,'" continued calvin, "'that man, having been born pure and clean in the image of god, is, through his own sin, fallen from the grace he had received, and that all the descendants of adam are tainted with original sin, down to the little children in their mothers' wombs. that is our belief on these subjects.'" "we are bound to accept all that is found in the sacred books. the will of the lord is impenetrable--let it be done in all things. our reason must humble itself before that which seems incomprehensible," was the response of the reformers. "oh, god of love and mercy!" exclaimed christian lebrenn, apart. "to proclaim in thy name that thy will smites the unborn child even in its mother's womb! just god! thou who knowest all things--past, present and to come--thou knewest thy creature, man, who is not but because thou hast said, be! was bound to fall into sin. thou knewest it. generations upon generations, all guiltless of the sin of the first man, were to undergo the terrible chastisement that it has pleased thee to inflict upon them. thou knewest it. and yet, thou art supposed to have said: 'man, you will fall into sin. the original stain shall mark your children even in their mothers' wombs'! merciful god! pardon the infirmity of my intellect. i cannot believe a father will devote his own children to eternal misery. i cannot believe a father can take pleasure in allowing his children's mind to waver between justice and injustice, especially when he knows beforehand they are fatedly certain to elect iniquity, and when he knows the consequence of their choice will be fearful to themselves and to all their posterity. just god! what is the constant aim of the thoughts and efforts of every honorable man, within the limits of his faculties? to give his children such an education as will keep them from the path of vice; an education that may justify him to say: 'my children will be upright men!' and yet, thou, almighty god, thou art supposed to have said: 'i _will_ that the evil inclinations of my children carry the day over the good ones; i _will_ that they become criminals, and that they be forever damned!' never shall i accept such a doctrine." john calvin continued his credo: "'we believe and confess that, as a consequence of original sin, man, corrupt of body, blind of mind, and depraved of heart, has lost all virtue, and, although he has still preserved some discernment of right and wrong, falls into darkness when he aspires to understand god with the aid of his own intelligence and human reason. finally, although he should have the will to choose between right and wrong, his will being the captive of sin, he is fatedly devoted to wrong, is destined to malediction, and is not free to choose the right but by the grace of god.'" "such," responded the reformers, "is the will of the lord. we fall into darkness if we strive to understand god with the aid of our own reason." "no! no!" christian said to himself, "god never said: 'my creatures, instead of loving me and adoring me in all the splendor of my glory, shall adore me in the darkness of their intelligence, dimmed by my will.' no! god has not said: 'man, you shall be fatedly devoted to wrong! you shall be for all time a captive of sin! i enclose you within an iron circle from which there is no escape but by my grace!' if god's omnipotence made man sinful or good, why punish or reward him? another article of faith to be rejected." "'we believe and confess,'" calvin proceeded, "'that jesus christ, being god's wisdom and his eternal son, clad himself in our flesh to the end of being both god and man in one person. we worship him so entirely in his divinity, that we strip him of his humanity. we believe and confess that god, by sending us his son, wished to show his ineffable goodness toward us, and by delivering him to death and raising him from the dead, wished that justice be done and heavenly life be gained for us.'" "glory to god!" cried the reformers. "he has sent us his son to redeem us with his blood! god has been crucified for the salvation of man!" communing with himself, christian lebrenn only said: "another absurdity laid by calvin at the door of the godhead. can god condemn man for the pleasure of afterwards redeeming him? o, christ! poor carpenter of nazareth, the friend of the afflicted, the penitent and the disinherited, you do not wrap yourself in an impenetrable cloud. i see your pale and sweet smile encircled by a bloody aureola, and bearing a stamp that is truly human. your divine words are accessible even to the intelligence of children. your evangelical morality should and will be the code of all humankind. the chains of the slave will be broken, said you now more than fifteen hundred years ago; and yet, the pharisees, who call themselves your priests, have, during all these centuries, owned slaves, later serfs, and to-day they count their vassals by the thousands. love ye one another, said you; and yet, the pharisees, who call themselves your priests, caused, and to this hour continue to cause, torrents of christian blood to flow. i do not share the belief of the reformers, but i remain with them body and soul so long as they combat the cruelties, the iniquities and the idolatries of the roman church! i remain body and soul with them so long as they devote their lives to the triumph of your doctrine, o, christ! in the name of equality and human fraternity! in that does the real strength lie, the real power of the reformation. of what concern to us are those mosaic dogmas concerning original sin, the fatedness of evil, the inherent wickedness of man? the reformation _acts_ valiantly, it _acts_ generously, it _acts_ in a christian spirit in seeking to restore your church, o, christ! to its simplicity and pristine purity by combating the pope of rome." calvin continued: "'we believe and confess that, thanks to the sacrifice our lord jesus christ offered on the cross, we are reconciled to god and fit to be held and looked upon as just before him. accordingly, we believe that we owe to jesus christ our full and perfect deliverance. we believe and confess that, without disparagement of virtues and deserving qualities, we depend upon them for the remission of our sins only through our faith, and the law of jesus christ.'" "the law and faith in jesus christ is embraced in that" responded the reformers. "it is our code. the law and faith in jesus christ--that means love towards our fellow men; it means equality; it means fraternity; it means revolt against the idolatries, in whose name the greatest malefactors are and believe themselves absolved of their crimes by the purchase of indulgences! only through faith and the practice of the evangelical law will our sins be remitted." "'we believe and confess,'" proceeded calvin, "'that whereas jesus christ has been given us as the only intermediary between us and god, and since he recommends to us that we withdraw into seclusion in order to address, in private and in his name, our prayers to his father, all the inventions of men concerning the intercession of martyred saints is but fraud and deception, schemed in order to lead mankind aside from the straight and narrow path. furthermore, we hold purgatory to be an illusion of the same nature, likewise monastic vows, pilgrimages, the ordinance of celibacy to clergymen, auricular confession, and the ceremonial observance of certain days when a meat diet is forbidden. finally we consider illusions the indulgences and other idolatrous practices through which grace and salvation are expected, and we regard them as human inventions calculated to shackle human conscience.'" "that is the essence of the reformation," said christian lebrenn, apart. "the reform of action, the militant reform. hence it is that my dignity as a man, my mind and my heart are with it. it is a long step towards the reign of pure reason, planted upon the freedom of inquiry. the road is cleared. man is in direct communion and communication with god through prayer, without the intervention of any church. no more popes--the incarnation of divine and human autocracy, as ignatius loyola understands it! no more dissolute and savage pontiffs, claiming to be your vicars, o, god of mercy! no more saints, no more purgatory! down goes the traffic in indulgences! no more monastic vows--the idle monks shall become honest and industrious citizens! no more priestly celibacy--the pastors shall themselves become heads of families! no more auricular confession--a bar to ignatius loyola, whose aim is to take possession of the conscience of mankind by means of the tribunal of penitence; through the conscience of mankind, the soul of man; through the soul, the body; and thus to rear the most frightful theocratic tyranny! o, sweet carpenter of nazareth! may the reformation triumph! may your evangelical law in all its pristine purity become the law of the world! the power of the casqued, the mitred or the crowned oppressors will then have ceased to be! no more kings, no more priests, no more masters!" "no more popes! no more cardinals, or bishops! no more idolatry! no more celibacy! no more adoration of images! no more confession! no more intermediaries between god and man! such is our confession, such our belief," cried the reformers in answer to calvin, who continued: "'we believe and confess those romish inventions to be pure idolatries. we reject them. sustained by the authority of the sacred books, by the words and acts of the apostles--i timothy ; john ; matthew and ; luke , and ; the epistle to the romans , and other evangelical texts--we believe and confess that where the word of god is not received there is no church. therefore we reject the assemblages of the papacy, whence divine truth is banished, where the sacraments are corrupted, adulterated and falsified, while superstitious and idolatrous practices flourish and thrive in their midst.'" "yes," answered the assembled reformers, "let us draw away from the usurping roman church--that impure babylon; that sink of all vices; that notorious harlot; that poisoned well, whence flow all the ills that afflict humanity! no more popes, bishops, priests or monks!" "'we believe and confess,'" calvin continued, "'that all men are true pastors wherever they may be, provided they are pure of heart, and that they recognize for sole sovereign and universal bishop our lord jesus christ. therefore we repudiate the papacy; we protest that no church, even if it call itself "catholic," can lay claim to any authority or dominion over any other church.'" "therefore we do repudiate the church of rome! christ is our pope, our bishop! there should be no intermediary between him and us!" responded the reformers. "'we believe and confess,'" calvin went on, "'that the offices of pastors, deans and deacons must proceed from the election of their own people, whose confidence they will thus show they have earned. we believe that, in order to exercise their functions, they should concentrate within them the general rules of the church, without attempting to decree, under the shadow of the service of god, any rules to bind human conscience.'" "freedom of conscience--that means human emancipation!" christian exclaimed to himself. "all honor to the reformation for proclaiming that great principle! may it remain faithful thereto!" the reformers meanwhile answered: "yes, we wish to elect our own pastors, as they were elected in the primitive church;" and john calvin continued: "'we believe and confess that there are but two sacraments--baptism, that cleanses us of the soilure of original sin; and communion, which nourishes us, vivifies us spiritually by the substance of jesus christ, a celestial mystery accessible only through faith. "'finally, we believe and confess that god has willed that the peoples on earth be governed; that he has established elective or hereditary kingdoms, principalities, republics and other forms of government. we therefore hold as unquestionable that their laws and statutes must be obeyed, their tributes and imposts paid, and all the duties that belong to citizens and subjects must be fulfilled with a frank and good will, even if such governments be iniquitous, _provided the sovereign empire of god remains untouched_. therefore we repudiate those who would reject government and authority, and who would throw society into confusion through the introduction of community of goods among men, and thereby upset the order of justice.'" "no! no!" was christian's muttered comment at these words. "man must not submit to an iniquitous authority! no! no! john calvin himself realizes the offensiveness to human dignity of such a resignation, and its contradiction to the very spirit of the reformation. is not the reformation itself a legitimate revolt against the iniquity of the pontifical authority, and, if need be, against whatever temporal power might seek to impose the roman cult upon the reformers? indeed, after having set up the principle, 'the peoples must submit to their governments, even if these be iniquitous,' calvin adds, '_provided the sovereign empire of god remains untouched_.' no obedience is due an authority that would raise its hand against the sacred rights of man, or aught that flows therefrom." "such, dear brothers," concluded john calvin, "is our confession of faith. do you accept it?" "yes, yes!" cried the reformers. "we accept it. we shall practice it. we shall uphold it, at the risk of our property, our freedom and our life! we swear!" "this, then, is the confession of faith of those 'heretics' whom the catholic clergy represents to ignorant and duped people as monsters steeped in all manner of crimes, and vomited upon earth out of hell, as inveterate foes of god and man," said calvin. "what do these 'heretics' confess? they confess the fundamental dogmas of the christian church, as revealed by the divinity itself. but these 'heretics' reject the inventions, the abuses, the idolatries and the scandals of the church of the popes. in that lies our crime, an unpardonable crime! we attack the cupidity, the pride and the despotism of the priesthood! "here, on this very spot where we are now gathered in council in order to confess the most sacred of rights, the freedom of conscience, seven priests have pledged themselves with a terrible oath to secure the absolute omnipotence of rome over the souls of men, and to found the reign of theocratic government over the whole earth! the new organization is named the society of jesus. it is intended to and will become a formidable instrument in the hands of our enemies. the circumstance is a symptom of the dangers that threaten us. let us prepare to combat that new militia everywhere it may show itself. "our credo, our confession of faith is fixed. this confession will be that of all the evangelical churches of france. and, now, what attitude must we assume in the face of the redoubled persecutions that we are threatened with? shall we submit to them with resignation, or shall we repel force with force? i request our friend robert estienne to express his views upon this head." "it is my opinion," replied robert estienne, "that we should address fresh petitions to king francis i, praying that it may please him to allow us to exercise our religion in peace, while conforming ourselves to the laws of the kingdom. should our petition be denied, then we should draw from the strength of our convictions the necessary fortitude to sustain persecution to the extreme limit possible. beyond that we shall have to take council again." "i share the opinion of robert estienne," said john dubourg. "let us resign ourselves. an upright man should drain the cup of bitterness and pain sooner than let loose upon his country the horrors of a fratricidal conflict." "monsieur coligny, what is your opinion?" "monsieur," replied the young noble, "i am, i think, the youngest man in this assemblage; i shall accept the opinion that may prevail." "speak. you are a man of arms. we should know your opinion," returned calvin. "since you insist, monsieur," coligny began, "i should here declare that my family owes a good deal to the kindness of the king. it has pleased him to entrust me--me who am barely passed the age of youth--with a company of his army. i am, accordingly, bound to him by bonds of gratitude. but there is to me a sentiment superior to that of gratitude for royal favors--that sentiment is the duty that faith imposes. while deploring the cruel extremities of civil war, which i hold in horror; while deeply regretting ever to have to draw my sword against the king, or, rather, against his ill-omened advisers, i should feel constrained to resort to that fatal extremity if, persecution having reached the limits of endurance, it became necessary to defend the lives of our brothers, driven face to face with the alternative, 'die, or abjure your faith!' as to pronouncing myself with regard to the opportune moment for the conflict, in case, which god forfend, the conflict must break out, i leave the decision to more experienced heads than my own. at the moment of action, my property, my sword, my life--all shall be at the service of our cause. i shall do my duty--all my duty." ambroise paré, the surgeon, was the next to speak. "both christ and my professional duties," he said, "command me to bestow my care upon friend and enemy alike. i could not, accordingly, brothers, bring hither any but words of peace. let us be inflexible in our belief. but let us force our persecutors themselves to acknowledge our moderation. let us tire their acts of violence with our patience and resignation. let us leave the swords sheathed." "patience, nevertheless, has bounds!" objected the viscount of plouernel. "has not our resignation lasted long enough? does it not embolden the audacity of our enemies? would you resort yet again to humble petitions? very well. let us pray, let us implore, once more. but if we are answered with a denial of justice, let us, then, resolutely stand up against our persecutors. we are the majority, in several mercantile cities, and several provinces. let us, then, repel force with force. our enemies will recoil before our attitude, and will then do justice to our legitimate wishes. i hold that to carry our forbearance any further would be to expose our party to be decimated day by day. then, when the hour of battle shall have come--it is fatedly bound to come--we shall find ourselves stripped of our best forces. in short, let us make one more peaceful effort to secure the free exercise of our religion. should our appeal be denied--to arms!" "brothers," advised prince charles of gerolstein, "i am a foreigner among you. i come from germany. i there assisted at the struggles and the triumph of the reformation preached by the great luther. in our old germany we did not appeal and request. we affirmed the right of man to worship his creator according to his own conscience. workingmen, seigneurs, bourgeois--all proclaimed in chorus: 'we refuse to bend under the yoke of rome; whosoever should seek to impose it upon us by the sword will be resisted with the sword.' to-day, the reformation in germany defies its enemies. germany is not france; but men are men everywhere. everywhere resolution has the name of resolution, nor are its consequences anywhere different. we are bound to uphold our rights by our arms." "monsieur christian lebrenn, what is your opinion on the grave subject before us?" asked calvin. the printer replied: "history teaches us that to request from popes and kings a reform of superstition and tyranny is absolutely idle. never will the church of rome voluntarily renounce the idolatries and abuses that are the sources of its wealth and power. never will a catholic king--consecrated by the church and leaning upon it for support, as it leans upon him--voluntarily recognize the reformation. the reformation denies the authority of the pope. to attack the pope is to attack royal authority. to overthrow the altar is to shatter the throne. all authority is interdependent. what is it that we demand? the peaceful exercise of our creed, while conforming to the laws of the kingdom. but the laws of the kingdom expressly forbid the exercise of all creeds, except that of the catholic church. either we must confess our faith and then expose ourselves to the rigors of the law, or escape them by abjuration; or, yet, resist them, arms in hand. are we to obtain edicts of tolerance? we should entertain no such hope. but, even granted we obtained them, our security would be under no better safeguard. an edict is revocable. the end of it all is fatedly one of three conclusions--abjuration, martyrdom, or revolt. the blood of martyrs is fruitful, but the blood of soldiers, battling for the most sacred of rights, is also fruitful. we neither should, nor can we, i hold, hope for either the authorization, or tolerance, of our cult. sooner or later, driven to extremities by persecution, we shall find ourselves compelled to repel violence with violence. let us boldly face the terrible fact. but, suppose, for the sake of our peace of conscience, we said: 'it still depends upon the church of rome and the king of france to put an end to the torture of our brothers, and to prevent the evils of a civil and religious war.' to that end a decree conceived in these terms will suffice: '_everyone may freely and publicly exercise his religion under the obligation to respect the religion of others_.' such a decree, so just and simple, consecrating, as it does, the most inviolable of rights, is the only equitable and peaceful solution of the religious question. do you imagine that such a decree would be vouchsafed to our humble petition?" "neither king nor pope, neither bishops, priests nor monks would accept such a decree," was the unanimous answer. christian continued: "nevertheless, in order to place the right on our side, let us draw up one last petition. if it is rejected, let us then run to arms, and exterminate our oppressors. it is ever by insurrection that liberty is won." "will brother bernard palissy let us know his views?" asked calvin when christian had finished. with a candor that breathed refinement, the potter replied: "i am but a poor fashioner of earthen pots. seeing the issue is to shatter them resolutely--according to the opinion of our friend the printer--i shall tell you what happened to me the other day. i was wondering how it came about that the evangelical religion--benign, charitable, peaceful, full of resignation, asking for naught but for a modest place in the sun of the good god in behalf of its little flock--should have so many inveterate enemies. being a little versed in alchemy, 'let's see,' said i to myself, 'when, mixing the varnish, colors and enamel with which i decorate my pottery, i encounter some refractory substance, what do i do? i submit it to the alembic. i decompose it. in that way i ascertain the different substances of which it consists. well now, let me submit the enemies of the reformation to the alembic in order to ascertain what there is in their composition to render them so very refractory.' first of all, i submit to my philosophic alembic the brains of a canon. i ask him: 'why are you such a violent enemy of the evangelical faith?' 'why!' the canon makes answer, 'because, your clergymen being men of science as well as preachers, our flocks will also want to hear us preach as men of knowledge. now, then, i know nothing about preaching, and still less about reading or writing. since my novitiate i have been accustomed to taking my comfort, to ignorance, to idleness. that's the reason i sustain the church of rome, which sustains my ignorance, my delightful comfort and my idleness.' through with that monk, i experimented with the head of an abbot. it resisted the alembic. it shook itself away, bit, roared with vindictive choler, resisting strenuously to have that which it contained within seen by me. nevertheless, i succeeded in separating its several parts, to wit: the black and vicious choler, on one side; ambition and pride, on the other; lastly, the silent thoughts of murder that our abbot nourished towards his enemies. that done, i discovered that it was his arrogance, his greed and his vindictiveness that kept him in a refractory temper toward the humility of the evangelical church. i afterwards experimented upon a counsellor of parliament, the finest gautier one ever laid eyes upon. having distilled my gallant in my alembic i found that his bowels contained large chunks of church benefices, which had fattened him so much that he almost burst in his hose. seeing which i said to him: 'come, now, be candid, is it not in order to preserve your large chunks of church benefices that you would institute proceedings against the reformers? isn't it damnable?' 'what is there damnable in that?' he asked me. 'if it were damnable there must be a terrible lot of damned people, seeing that in our sovereign court of parliament, and in all the courts of france, there are very few counsellors or presidents without some slice of an ecclesiastical benefice which helps them to keep up the gilding, the trappings, the banquets and the smaller delights of the household, as well as the grease in the kitchen. now, then, you devil's limb of a potter' (he was talking to me) 'if the reformation were to triumph, would not all our benefices run to water, and, along with them, all our small and large pleasures? that's why we burn you up, you pagans!' at hearing which i cried: 'oh, poor christians, where are you at? you have against you the courts of parliament and the great seigneurs, all of whom profit from ecclesiastical benefices. so long as they will be fed upon such a soup they will remain your capital enemies.' that is my reason, brothers, for believing we shall be persecuted all our lives. let us therefore take refuge with our captain and protector jesus christ, who one day will wipe out the infliction of the wicked and the wrong that will have been done us.[ ] therefore, let us suffer; let us be resigned, even unto martyrdom; and, according to the judgment of a poor potter, let us not break the pots. of what use are broken pots?" "will our celebrated poet clement marot acquaint us with his views?" asked calvin. "brothers," said the man thus called upon, "our friend bernard palissy, one of the great artists of these days--and of all future days--spoke to you in his capacity of a potter. i, a poet, shall address you on the profit that can be drawn from my trade for our cause. why not make one more endeavor to use the methods of persuasion before resorting to the frightful extremity of civil war? why not endeavor to draw the world over to our side by the charm of the evangelical word? listen, the other day a thought flashed through my mind. the women are better than we. this acknowledgment is easily made in the presence of our sister, mary la catelle, whom i see here. she is the living illustration of the truth of what i say. none among us, even the foremost, excels her in tenderness or pity for the afflicted, in delicate and touching care for deserted children. i therefore say the women are better than we, are more accessible than we to pure, lofty and celestial sentiments. furthermore, to them life is summed up in one word--_love_. from terrestrial love to divine love it is but one aspiration higher. let us endeavor to elevate the women to that sublime sphere. the common but just saying, little causes often produce great results, has inspired me with the following thought. i asked myself: 'what do the women usually sing, whether they be bourgeois or workingmen's wives?' love songs. the impure customs of our times have given these songs generally a coarse, if not obscene turn. as a rule, the mind and the heart become the echo of what the mouth says, of what the ear hears, of what engages our thoughts. would it not be a useful thing to substitute those licentious songs with chaste ones that attract through love? hence i have considered the advisability of putting in verse and to music the sacred canticles of the bible which are so frequently perfumed with an adorable poetic flavor. my hope is that little by little, penetrated by the ineffable influence of those celestial songs, the women who sing them will soon be uttering their sentiments, not with the lips only but from the depth of their hearts. our aspirations will then be realized." clement marot was about to recite some of the charming verses composed by himself, when justin suddenly broke in upon the assemblage crying: "danger! danger! a troop of archers and mounted patrolmen are coming up the road to the abbey. i have seen the glitter of their casques. flee by the opposite issue of the quarry!" a great tumult ensued upon the artisan's words. justin took up one of the candles, ran to the gallery that was masked by the huge boulder, and entered the narrow passage, ordering all the others to follow him. "brothers!" cried out the viscount of plouernel, "let all those of us who are men of arms remain here and draw our swords. the patrol will not dare to lay hands upon any of us. the court must reckon with our families. as to you, calvin, and the rest of our friends whom no privilege shelters from the pursuit of our enemies, let them flee!" "you can leave the place in all safety," added gaspard of coligny; "the armed patrol, finding us ready to cross irons with them, will not push their search any further." "should they push forward so far as to discover this other issue," put in prince charles of gerolstein, "we shall charge upon them vigorously, and shall force them back far enough to leave the passage free for our retreat." john calvin, whose life was so precious to the evangelical church, was the first to follow upon the heels of the torch-bearer justin. the other reformers pressed close behind. the gallery, narrow at the entrance, widened by degrees, until it opened into an excavation surrounded by bluffs, up one of which a narrow path wound itself to the very top of the ravine, with the tierred fields and woods stretching beyond on the further slope of the hill of montmartre. robert estienne, clement marot, bernard palissy and ambroise paré remained close to calvin. christian lebrenn assisted mary la catelle to cross the rocky ground. when the fugitives were all again assembled in the hollow of the excavation, john calvin addressed them, saying: "before separating, brothers, i renew to you the express recommendation not to attempt a rebellion, which, especially at this season, would only subserve the cause of our enemies. resignation, courage, perseverance, hope--such must be our watchwords for the present. our hour will come. assured, after this night's council, of the adhesion of the reformers of paris to the credo of the evangelical church, i shall continue my journey through france to engage our brothers in the provinces to imitate the example of paris by opposing the violence of our enemies with patience." and turning to christian: "monsieur lebrenn, you uttered a sentiment the profoundness of which has impressed me strongly. a simple decree to the effect that all are free to profess publicly their own creed while respecting the creed of others, you said, would prevent frightful disasters. let the blood, that may some day flow, fall upon those who, by denying justice, will have kindled the flames of civil war! anathema upon them! for the very reason that equity and right are on our side we are in duty bound to redouble our moderation." after touching adieus, exchanged by calvin and his co-religionists, it was agreed to return to paris in separate groups of threes and fours, to the end of not awakening the suspicion of the guards at the montmartre and st. honoré gates, who were no doubt apprized of the expedition of the patrol against a nocturnal assembly of heretics held on montmartre. day was about to dawn. john calvin, robert estienne, clement marot, ambroise paré, bernard palissy and a few others ascended the path that led out of the ravine, and took their way across-fields in the direction of the st. honoré gate. other little groups formed themselves, each striking in a different direction. christian, justin, john dubourg, laforge, who was another rich bourgeois, mary la catelle and her brother-in-law the architect poille, took the road to the montmartre gate, where they arrived at sunrise. although their group consisted of only six persons, they decided, out of excessive caution, not to enter paris but by twos--first john dubourg and laforge; then mary la catelle and her brother-in-law; lastly justin and christian. their entrance, thought they, would awaken no suspicion, seeing that already the peasants, carrying vegetables and fruit for the market, crowded in the neighborhood of the gate with their carts. soon separated from their friends in the midst of the medley of market carts, justin and christian were but a few steps from the arched entrance of the gate when suddenly they heard a loud clamor, and these words, repeated by a mob of voices: "lutherans! lutherans! death to the heretics!" a pang of apprehension shot through the hearts of christian and his companion. some of their companions who preceded them must have been recognized at the gate. to rush to their assistance would have been but to share their fate. "let us not attempt to enter paris at this hour," suggested justin to christian, "we are workmen in the printing shop of robert estienne. that would be enough to cause us to be suspected of heresy. gainier, the spy of the criminal lieutenant, has surely given the mob our description. let us go around the rampart and enter by the bastille of st. antoine. that gate is so far from montmartre that it is possible the alarm has not been given from that side." "my wife and children would be in mortal agony not to see me home this morning," answered christian. "i shall make the attempt to go through, under shelter of the tumult which, unhappily for our friends, seems to be on the increase. do you hear those ferocious cries?" "i do not care to run the danger. adieu, christian. i have neither wife nor children. my prolonged absence will cause uneasiness to no one. i prefer to go to the bastille of st. antoine. we shall meet shortly, i hope, at the printing shop. may god guard you!" the two friends separated. christian, whose anxiety increased every minute, thinking of mary la catelle and those with her, decided to enter paris at all risks. nevertheless, noticing not far from where he stood a peasant driving a cart filled with vegetables and overspread with a cloth held up by hoops, he said to the rustic, drawing a coin from his pocket: "friend, i am exhausted with fatigue. i need a little rest. would you be so good as to take me in your cart only as far as the center of the city?" "gladly, climb in and go to sleep, if you can," answered the peasant as he pocketed the coin. christian climbed in, ensconced himself in a corner of the wagon and raised a little fold of the cloth in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on outside, seeing the tumult waxed louder and more threatening. alas! hardly had the wagon passed through the gate and entered the city when christian saw at a little distance mary la catelle, her brother-in-law poille, john dubourg and laforge--all four manacled. a troop of archers held back with difficulty the furious mob that loudly clamored for the lives of the "heretics," those "heathens," those "lutheran stranglers of little children"! pale, yet calm, the four victims looked serenely upon the surging mass of fanatics. with her eyes raised to heaven and her arms crossed over her bosom, mary la catelle seemed resigned to martyrdom. the imprecations redoubled. already the most infuriate of the populace were picking up stones to stone the victims to death. the wagon in which christian was concealed slowly pursued its way and saved the artisan the harrowing spectacle of the mob's murderous preparations. later he learned the details of the arrest of his friends. la catelle and her brother-in-law, who had long ago been reported by the spy gainier as hardened heretics, had been recognized and seized by the agents of the criminal lieutenant, who had been posted since midnight at the montmartre gate. john dubourg and laforge, who came a few steps behind la catelle, having yielded to a generous impulse and run to her assistance, were, in punishment for the very nobility of their act, likewise suspected, arrested and manacled. christian also learned later that lefevre was the informer against the meeting of the reformers at montmartre. the bits of paper lefevre had picked up while directing the search of the sergeant in the garret of christian's house, proved to be bits of calvin's draft convoking the assembly, and on one of these the word montmartre was to be read. armed with this evidence, lefevre had hastened to impart his suspicions to the criminal lieutenant, and caused the patrol to be ordered afield; but these, finding themselves confronted with the seigneurs at the entrance of the quarry, and seeing these determined to resist them, had not dared to effect an arrest. christian jumped out of the wagon in the center of paris and hastened his steps towards his house. hardly had he stepped upon the exchange bridge when he saw the franc-taupin running towards him. josephin had watched all night for the artisan's return. he informed him of the arrest of his wife and children, of the danger that awaited him if he entered his house, and induced him to take refuge in a place of safety. chapter xiv. hena's diary. after being separated from her mother, hena lebrenn was taken to the augustinian convent and locked up. one day during her confinement she narrated the incidents of her incarceration in a letter destined for bridget, but which never reached the ill-starred mother, due to a series of distressful circumstances. hena wrote: "december, . at the convent of the augustinians. "joy of heaven! i am given the assurance, dear mother, that you will receive this letter. my thoughts run wild in my head. i wish i could tell you, all at once, all that has happened to me since our separation until this moment. alas! i have so many things to communicate to you. you all--yourself and my good father, and my uncle josephin--will be so astonished, and perhaps so chagrined, to know that this very day-- "but i must go back with my narrative, and begin with that unhappy day when we were led away, you to the chatelet prison, i to this place. i am ignorant of what may have happened to you and to father. all my questions on those topics have ever remained unanswered. they assure me you are in good health--that is all. i hope so; i believe it. what interest could they have in deceiving me regarding your lives? "well, i was brought to this place in the dark of night, and locked up in a little cell, without having seen a soul except the turning-box attendant. what would it avail to tell you how i wept? in the morning the attendant informed me that i would be visited at noon by the madam superior. i asked leave to write to my family in order to inform them of my whereabouts. i was answered that the mother abbess would have to decide about that. she called upon me at noon. at first, i thought i had before me a lady of the court, so superbly ornamented she was. there was nothing in her dress to recall the religious garb. she is young and handsome. methought i could read kindness on her face. i threw myself at her feet, imploring her to have pity upon me, and to have me taken to my parents. this was her answer: "'my dear daughter, you have been brought up in impiety. you are here in order to labor at your salvation. when you are sufficiently instructed in our holy roman catholic and apostolic religion, you shall take the eternal vows to enter our order of the augustinians. you will then be allowed to see your parents again. you are not to leave this cell before taking the veil. you will be allowed out every day only to take a little walk under the archway of the cloister, in the company of one of our sisters. it depends upon yourself how promptly you will have gained the religious instruction necessary to enter our order, after which you will be allowed to receive your family once a week in the convent parlor.' "'but, madam,' i answered the abbess, 'i have not the religious vocation. even if i had, i would not take vows without the sanction of my father.' "'your father is in heaven; he is our lord god. your mother also is in heaven; she is the holy virgin mary. your obedience is due to those divine parents, not to your carnal and heretical parents. these have infected you with a pestilential heresy. the lord, in his mercy, has willed, for the salvation of your soul, that you be removed from that school of perdition. the pale of our holy mother the church is open to you. come back to it. be docile and you shall be happy. otherwise, greatly to my regret, i shall employ rigor, and constrain you to your own welfare. beginning with to-morrow, one of our brothers of the order of st. augustine will come to impart religious instruction to you. you are to have no intercourse with your parents before you have taken the vows. it depends, then, upon yourself how soon you will see your parents again. think it over well.' "without wishing to hear me any further, the mother superior left me alone. "the choice left to me was to embrace the monastic life, or give up the hope of ever seeing you again, dear father! dear mother! the bare thought made me shudder. i thought of resisting the orders of the abbess. i thought that, if they were made to know my determination, they would set me free. great was my error! "towards evening one of the sisters came and proposed to take a walk with me under the archway of the cloister. i declared to her that no human power could compel me to take vows that would forever separate me from my beloved parents. the nun, a woman with a sharp and wicked face, recommended to me to think before speaking, adding that, if i obstinately refused salvation, they would know how to lead me to obedience by severe treatment. our promenade ended, i returned to my cell. my supper was brought to me. i went to bed steeped in sadness. "at midnight i was rudely waked up. the old turning-box attendant came in, accompanied by four others, large and strong women. one of them carried a lanthorn. i was afraid. i sat up on my couch, and asked what they wanted of me. "'rise and follow us,' answered the old nun. i hesitated to obey. she then added: 'no resistance, otherwise these sisters will take you by force.' "i resigned myself. i started to put on my dress, but the nun threw upon my couch a sort of horsehair sack which she had brought with her. "'that is the only dress you are henceforth to use!' she said. "i robed myself in the haircloth, and was about to put on my shoes when the nun again put in: "'you are to walk barefoot. your rebellious flesh must be mortified.' "the expression on the faces of that woman and of her companions looked to me pitiless. i realized the uselessness of resistance or of prayer. barefoot and clad in the haircloth i followed the nuns. one of them lighted our way with her lanthorn. we crossed the cloister and several long passages. a solitary low window, shaded from within by a red curtain through which a bright light shone, opened upon one of these passages. while passing the place i heard a man's voice singing, accompanying himself on an arch-lute. the song was received with peals of laughter that proceeded from several men and women, gathered in the apartment. their words reached our ears distinctly. they seemed to me to be such as no honorable woman should hear. "the nun hastened her steps, and we entered a little court. one of the turning-box attendants opened a door; by the light of the lanthorn i noticed a staircase that descended under ground. seized with fear i drew back, but pushing me forward by the shoulders the nun said: "'go on! go on! we are taking you to a place where you will meditate at leisure over your obstinacy.' "i followed the turning-box attendant with the lanthorn. i descended the steps of the stone staircase. the moisture froze my naked feet. at the bottom of the staircase was a vaulted gallery upon which several doors opened. one of them was opened, and i was made to step into a vault where i saw a box shaped like a coffin and filled with ashes, a wooden prie-dieu surmounted by a cross, and near the bed of ashes an earthen pitcher and a piece of bread on the floor. "'this is to be your dwelling place until you shall have recovered from your stubbornness,' said the nun to me. 'if solitude and mortification do not subdue your rebellious spirit, recourse shall be had to other chastisements.' "i was left alone in the vault without a light. when the door was closed and locked upon me, i threw myself upon my couch of ashes. i was shivering with cold. the haircloth smarted me insupportably. the darkness frightened me. i recalled, poor dear mother, my own little chamber near yours, my bed that was so neat and white, and the kiss that every evening you came into my room and gave me before i fell asleep. i sobbed aloud. little by little my tears ceased to flow. numb with cold i slumbered till morning, the light of day reaching me through the airhole of my dungeon. i admit it, dear mother, and you will forgive my weakness, dejected by the sufferings of that first night, fearing i would be condemned to remain a long time in that dungeon, i resigned myself to agree to all that might be demanded of me. i wished above all to quit that gloomy place. i awaited impatiently the return of the nun, in order to make my submission to her. no one came, neither that day nor for about a week. i thought i would lose my senses. every minute i shivered with fear. the very silence of that species of tomb inspired me with wild terrors. i moaned and called out to you, dear father and mother, as if you could hear me. i then fell down upon my couch of ashes, worn out. how sad was my soul! "by little and little, however, i became accustomed to my prison, to my haircloth robe, to my bread, black and hard. calmness returned to me. i said to myself: 'i am the victim of a wicked scheme. my parents have taught me it was our duty to sustain courageously the trials of life, and never to bow down before cowardice or slander. i shall perish in this convent, or leave it to return to my family.' i now waited for the nun, no longer in order to make my submission to her, but to announce to her my firm determination to resist her wishes. vain expectations! for about another week no one came near. instead of weakening, my determination grew more exalted in my solitude. i spent my days thinking of you. often did the tension of my mind become so strong that i imagined i saw, i heard you. i then was no longer in that subterraneous dungeon; i was by your side, at our house. every morning at awakening, i invoked heaven's blessing upon you. then i would say to myself: 'good morning, father, good morning, mother.' i would tell you all about my affliction and my sufferings; you encouraged me not to succumb in my cruel trial. your wise and tender words comforted me. then also my thoughts would wander to-- "i have hesitated to tell you the truth. but you taught me to abhor untruth and dissimulation. i shall continue. only, dear mother, i know not whether, when you receive this letter, you will still be a prisoner and separated from father. if, on the contrary, you are again together, perhaps you should not let him know the passage you are about to read. perhaps, and it is my ardent hope, father is ignorant of the circumstance that he whom i called brother--did--in a fit of insanity-- "my hand trembles at the bore recollection of that incident. "during that horrible evening, before your unexpected return home, before i could understand the meaning of hervé's words, he had himself enlightened me concerning the nature of the feelings that i entertained for brother st. ernest-martyr. i have no doubt of it, at this hour. it was love i entertained for him. in the depth of my prison, during my nights of affliction, i could not prevent myself from thinking of you, without my thoughts running to him. "that is the admission that a minute ago i hesitated to make. if that attachment is a guilty one, good mother, forgive me, it is involuntary. "my thoughts wandered in my prison, beloved parents, no less to brother st. ernest-martyr than to yourselves, resolved, as i was, to die here or rejoin you. suddenly a cruel thought, that had not before occurred to me, flashed through my mind. to live by your side would be to live under the same roof with hervé! i attributed--i still attribute the occurrences of that fatal night to a temporary derangement of his reason. you, no doubt, withheld the incident from father's knowledge. hervé, once again returned to sanity, must have cursed his temporary aberration. his repentence must have moved you. one is indulgent towards crazy people! nevertheless the mere thought of seeing him again caused me to shudder. the only hope that had hitherto sustained me, the hope of spending my life near you, as of yore, drooped its wings. it seemed to me impossible ever after to support the sight of hervé. as i was a prey to these new and painful thoughts, one morning the door of my cell was opened and the turning-box attendant entered, followed by the other nuns. "'are you now more docile?' she asked. 'do you now consent to receive the religious instruction necessary to take the vows of the order of the augustinians?' "'no!' i screamed. 'you will gain nothing from me, either by persuasion, or force. i shall remain faithful to my belief!' "at a sign from the nun two of the turning-box attendants fell upon me. despite all my struggles, my tears, and my cries, they stripped me of my haircloth robe, the only clothing i had on; they held me fast; and their two other companions flagellated me mercilessly. shame and pain--my shoulders and bosom ran blood under the lacerating lashing--wrung from me a cowardly entreaty. i promised absolute submission. my obedience appeased my torturers. i was taken back to my nun's cell. for a first proof of my submission i was to consent that very day to confess to one of the augustinian monks under whose direction the convent stood, and one of whom was to be charged with imparting religious instruction to me. towards noon i was conducted to the chapel. oh, mother, what a surprise was in store for me! at the very first words that the monk, who occupied the confessional, addressed to me, i recognized the voice of st. ernest-martyr. i took myself for saved. i gave him my name; i informed him of our arrest; i conjured him to hunt up my father and my dear uncle josephin, who surely must have remained at large, and notify them where you and i were held in confinement. alas, my hopes were but short-lived! brother st. ernest-martyr, himself an object of suspicion to the other monks and especially to the abbot of the convent, was not allowed to go out. for several days he had been a prisoner in his own cell, which he left only to fulfil his ministry in the augustinian convent, which he reached through an underground passage that joined the two monasteries. i asked him whether it would be possible for him to have a letter reach my family. he doubted whether i would be allowed to write; furthermore, he did not, on his part, see any means by which my missive could reach its destination, such was the surveillance under which he himself was held. i narrated to him the recent ordeals and the trials that i underwent since my entrance in the convent. i heard him cry in the dark. i then entreated him to counsel me. he answered: "'sister, even if you experienced a decided religious vocation, and your parents gave their consent, even then i would urge you to reflect before pronouncing those eternal vows. but you have not that vocation, you are kept here against your will and without your parents' knowledge. what is to be done under such trying circumstances? to refuse to receive the veil, as you have hitherto done, is to expose yourself to fresh ill-treatment and severities, under which you would perish; to enter a religious order, even if forced thereto, is to renounce forever all tender family joys. before deciding, sister, endeavor to gain time. i shall help you by urging upon our abbess the necessity of delay in order to complete your religious education. your father and uncle have undoubtedly set on foot inquiries concerning your whereabouts. keep up the hope that their efforts will be successful. your father will move robert estienne, and he the princess marguerite to obtain your liberation. rely upon my ardent wish to be useful to you. it is my duty to console you, and to sustain you in your cruel plight. i shall not fall short in my duty.' "this, dear mother, was the advice of brother st. ernest-martyr. i followed it. in the meantime it remained impossible for him either to leave the convent, or write to you. he dared not trust such a secret to any of the other monks. they would in all likelihood have betrayed him to the abbot. "alas, dear mother, yet another misfortune was to befall me; brother st. ernest-martyr ceased to be my religious instructor. a few days after our first conference he was replaced by another augustinian monk. "so many afflictions threw me upon a sick bed. i became seriously ill. by the grief that the absence of st. ernest-martyr caused me i realized how much i loved him. of this love he is ignorant; he does not even suspect it; he shall never know it. my heart breaks at the mere thought of what remains for me to tell you. "the new augustinian monk, who was charged to catechise me, inspired me with such instinctive repulsion that i could not conceal its manifestations. he complained to the mother superior of my ill will towards him. the abbess summoned me before her, and notified me that, whether instructed or not, i was to take the vow the day after the next, adding that i would then be allowed to see my family. "i entreated the superior to grant me one more day to reflect upon so grave a step. my entreaty was granted. i then reasoned as follows: to refuse to become a nun is to expose myself to renewed acts of violence and flagellations the very recollection of which render me purple with shame; it is also to renounce the only hope of seeing from time to time my beloved parents. on the other hand i feel that my love for brother st. ernest-martyr will end but with my life; seeing i can not be his, to renounce him is to renounce the world, and all family joys. why, then, not take the veil? "i was alone, without an adviser, weakened with suffering, beset by nuns who alternately resorted to persuasion and threats. i despaired of ever finding the means of informing you of my fate, good mother. i resigned myself to take the vow-- "this morning the ceremony was celebrated. i was christened in religion with a sad name. i am called st. frances-in-the-tomb. to-night i am to spend in prayers in the chapel of the virgin, according to the custom for maids who have taken the veil. "my vows being pronounced, the abbess caused me to be supplied with writing material--paper, pen and ink--promising me that this letter would be forwarded to my family. "i am wrong for having taken so grave a step without your consent, good mother, and without the consent of father. "i break off at this place. the convent clock strikes nine. i am to be taken to the chapel, where i am to watch all night. may god have mercy upon me. "to-morrow, good mother, i shall finish this letter which i shall carry concealed in my corsage. i shall tell you then what were my thoughts. "until to-morrow, mother. i shall then close my confidences." the sequel of this chronicle will instruct you, sons of joel, concerning the events that led to christian's coming into possession of the letter of the ill-starred hena, as also of the following fragments of the diary written by ernest rennepont, in religion st. ernest-martyr, during the time that he also was held a prisoner under surveillance in the augustinian convent. chapter xv. diary of st. ernest-martyr. "lord god! have mercy upon me! i have just seen the young girl. i have confessed her in the convent of our augustinian sisters. she is imprisoned there. they wish to compel her to take the vows. poor victim! "when i recognized her voice; when, in the shadow of the confessional, i perceived her angelic face, my heart thrilled with an insensate joy. i then trembled, and wept. oh, thou who seest to the bottom of the heart of man, thou knowest, my god! my first thought was to leave the tribunal of penitence. i did not deem myself worthy of sitting in that place. but in her distress, the child had only me for her support. she thanked thee, oh, my god! with such fervor for having sent me across her path, that my first impulse weakened, and i remained." * * * * * "to thee, my divine master, i make my confession. yes; the first time i saw that young girl at the house of mary la catelle, as i was engaged in teaching the children at her school, i was struck by the beauty of hena lebrenn, her modesty, her candor, her grace! without knowing it, mary la catelle rendered still more profound the deep impression her friend had made upon me, by recounting to me her virtues, her goodness, the truthfulness of her character. yes; i confess it; since that day, and despite my reason that said to me: 'such a love is insane;' despite my faith that whispered to me: 'such a love is guilty;' despite all, the mad passion, the criminal passion gained every day a more powerful sway over my being. our meeting to-day, by unveiling to me without reserve that ingenuous and charming soul, has forever riveted my chains. i love her passionately. i shall carry that love with me to the grave--" * * * * * "impossible to leave my convent! i am the object of constant surveillance. suspicion and hatred mount guard around me. how is hena's family to be apprized of the constraint she is placed under? the days are passing away. i shudder at the thought of the mother superior compelling her to pronounce the vows, regardless of the observations i made to her that hena's religious instruction is not yet sufficiently advanced. were i sufficient of a wretch to listen to the voice of an execrable selfishness, i would rejoice at the thought that hena, not being granted to me, would be none else's after her ordination as a nun. no! were it in my power, i would restore the unfortunate girl to her family. i would open the gates of the convent--" * * * * * "a family!--a wife!--children!--the tenderest of sentiments, the dearest, the most sacred that can elevate the soul to the height of thy providential purposes, o, heavenly father!--a family--that ineffable sanctuary of domestic virtues--is forever barred to me! a curse upon those who founded the first convents! "and who is it that bars me from that sanctuary? is it thy will, o, god of justice--thou who gavest a companion to man? no! no! neither the word revealed by the prophets, nor the word of thy son, our redeemer, ever said to thy priests: 'you shall remain without the pale of mankind; you are above, or below, the duties imposed by the sacred mission of assuring the happiness of a wife, raising children in the love and practice of right, and giving them the bread of the soul and the bread of the body!' "the reformers, those heretics, they have remained faithful to thy divine precepts. their pastors are husbands and fathers." * * * * * "at this moment the noise and the songs of orgy penetrate to the very recesses of my cell. mysteries of corruption and debauchery! the poor, ignorant people believe in the celibacy of the monks and the chastity of the nuns! monks and nuns give themselves over to all manner of abominations!" * * * * * "before ever i met hena at the home of mary la catelle, thou knowest, oh, my god! i was seized with the justice of the reforms that were proclaimed in thy name by the lutherans. i was in communion with them, if not in the communion of lips, at least in that of the soul. the adoration of images and saints, the arrogance of the clergy, auricular confession which places infamous priests in possession of the secrets of the domestic hearth, the redemption of sins and souls for a money price, the traffic in indulgences--so many iniquities, so many outrages against morality, rendered me indignant. my soul opened to the light." * * * * * "i have had a strange dream! "having become a pastor of the reformed religion, i had married hena. we lived in a village, located in a smiling valley. i gave lessons to the lads. hena gathered the girls around her. god blessed our union. two beautiful children drew closer the bonds of our mutual tenderness. oh, sacred family joys! hena, my beloved wife!" * * * * * "fool that i am! instead of allowing my thoughts to dwell upon that dream, could i but tear it out of my memory. until now i had, at least, found some bitter comfort in the word--_impossible_. i am a monk. an insurmountable obstacle separates me from hena. my grief fed upon the most mournful of thoughts. astray in a labyrinth from which there was no exit, no ray of hope penetrated to the depth of my despair. "but now, after that tempting dream, i find myself saying: "'and yet i could be happy. i could embrace the evangelical religion, become one of its pastors, remain guiltless of faithlessness to my vow of devoting myself to the service of god, and yet wed hena. the reform ministers are not held to celibacy.'" * * * * * "mercy, oh, my god! however intense the hope, it has evaporated. i have fallen back into the very depth of despair. in order to wed hena, she must love me! can her heart ever have beaten for a man clad in a monk's frock?" * * * * * "who made me a monk? could i, at the age of thirteen, be endowed with judgment enough to decide upon my vocation, and understand the significance of monastic vows? was it not in mere obedience to my father that i entered as a novice the order of the augustinian monks? that was my first step in religious life. subsequently, partly through lassitude, partly through habit, partly through submission, i proceeded to consecrate myself to this gloomy and sterile life. i bowed before the paternal will. thus goes the world! to my elder brother freedom to choose his career and a wife; to him the hereditary patrimony; to him family joys; to me the cloister; to me the vows that shackle me to celibacy and poverty! such are the iniquities of the catholics." * * * * * "a slow fever undermines and consumes me. i am only the shadow of my former self. "the religious education that every day i impart to hena in the shadow of the confessional is torture to me. i have become so nervously sensitive that the sweet sound of my penitent's voice makes every fiber of my brain to twitch. her breath, that occasionally reaches my face through the grating of the confessional, makes my forehead to be bathed in perspiration that burns, and then freezes my temples. i have not the courage to endure this torture any longer. i shall go crazy. to see, to feel near me the young girl the thought of whom fills my soul, and to be forever on guard, in order to restrain myself, to watch every single word i utter, its inflection, my hardly repressed sighs, the tears that her sorrows and my own draw from my eyes in order to conceal my secret from her! i am at the end of my strength. fever and sleeplessness have used up my life. i can hardly drag myself from my cell to the church of the augustinian monks. call me to your bosom, o lord god! have pity upon me. mercy! shorten my torments!" * * * * * "there is no longer any doubt. hena will be forced to take the vows. yesterday i went to the convent of the augustinian sisters to inform the mother superior that my weakened health commanded me absolute rest, and i could not continue the religious education of the young novice. "'is hena lebrenn at last in a condition to take the veil?' she asked me. "'not yet,' i answered. "'in that case,' replied the mother superior, 'the lord will enlighten her with his grace when it shall please him. it is his concern. obedient to the orders i have from my ecclesiastical superiors, the girl must take the veil within a week. some other of our augustinian brothers will take charge of completing the education of the novice, somehow or other. it is the reverend father lefevre who sent her here. she has a brother who also was snatched from perdition. the task was easy with him. so far from refusing to take the vows, he requested to be allowed to enter the order of the cordeliers, and has been taken to their convent and placed near fra girard. the father and mother are devil-possessed heretics. a curse upon them.' "and thus, in violation of all law and equity the two children have been wrested from their family, and will evermore be separated from it. i would give my life to inform christian lebrenn and his wife of the fate that is reserved for his daughter. alas, there is no means of seeing them." * * * * * "to-morrow hena takes the vows at the convent of the augustinian sisters. i was informed of it by the monk who replaced me as her catechiser. my god! the poor girl is lost forever to her family. "and yet a glimmer of hope remains. the surveillance at first exercised over me becomes less rigorous, now that my life is ebbing away, and i hardly leave my couch. if this evening, to-night, i can leave the convent, i shall notify monsieur lebrenn of the imminent danger that threatens his daughter. perchance, thanks to the influence of robert estienne, the princess marguerite may yet be able to obtain the freedom of hena before she has taken the veil. "my god! vouchsafe my prayer and deliver me speedily of life. i shall ask to be buried in my frock, where i keep hidden these leaves, the only confidants of my love." chapter xvi. the tavern of the black grape. "the black grape" was the device roughly painted on the escutcheon of a tavern that served for rendezvous to all sorts of bandits, who at that season infested the city of paris. even the archers of the patrol held in awe the semi-underground cut-throats' resort. they never ventured into the tortuous and dark alley at about the middle of which the old sign of the black grape, well known by all the thieves, creaked and swung to the wind. three men, seated at a table in one of the nooks of that haunt, were discussing some important project, judging from the mystery in which they wrapped their conversation. pichrocholle, the mauvais-garçon, and his pal grippe-minaud, the tire-laine, who, several months before, had attended the sale of indulgences in st. dominic's church, were two of the interlocutors in the consultation they were for some time holding with josephin, the franc-taupin. strange transformation! the adventurer, once a man of imperturbable good nature, was unrecognizable. his now somber and even savage physiognomy revealed a rooted grief. he left his pot of wine untouched. what stronger evidence of his grief! "st. cadouin!" said pichrocholle with a tone and gesture of devout invocation. "we are here alone. you can now tell us what you want of us, josephin." "pichrocholle, i met you in the war--" "yes, i was an arquebusier in the company of monsieur monluc. i got tired of killing in battle, and without profit to myself, italians, spaniards, swiss and flemings, whom i did not know, and decided to kill for cash frenchmen whom i did know. i became a mauvais-garçon. i now place my dagger and my sword at the service of whoever pays me. tit for tat." "'tis but to be a soldier, only in another manner," explained grippe-minaud. "but this trade requires a certain courage that i do not possess. i prefer to tackle honest bourgeois on their way home at night without any other weapon than--their lanthorns." "pichrocholle," proceeded the franc-taupin, "i saved your life at the battle of marignan. i extricated you from two lansquenets, who, but for my help, would have put you through a disagreeable quarter of an hour. i believe i bore myself as a true comrade." "st. cadouin! do you take me for an ingrate? if you have any service to ask of me, speak freely without fear of a refusal." "when i ran across you a few minutes ago, it occurred to me you were the man i needed--" "is it some enemy you wish to rid yourself of? all you have to do is to place me before him." josephin shook his head negatively, and pointed with his finger at his own long sword, that lay across the table before him. it would have been quite enough for such a contingency. "you are yourself able to rid yourself of an enemy," replied the mauvais-garçon. "i know it. what, then, is the job?" the franc-taupin proceeded with a tremulous voice while a tear rolled down from his eye: "pichrocholle, i had a sister--" "how your voice trembles! you could not look any sadder. pichrocholle, the pots are empty, and no money to fill them with!" said grippe-minaud. "'sdeath, my sister!" cried the franc-taupin in despair. "there is a void in my heart that nothing can fill!" and he hid his face in his hands. "a void is useful when it is made in the purse of a bourgeois," commented grippe-minaud, while his companion remarked: "come, now, josephin, you had a sister. is it that you have lost her? proceed with your story." "she is dead!" murmured the franc-taupin, gulping down a sob; but recovering, he added: "i still have a niece--" "a niece?" asked the mauvais-garçon. "is it she we must help? is she young and handsome--?" the bandit stopped short at the fierce look that the franc-taupin shot at him. presently he resumed: "i knew you one time for a jollier fellow." "i laugh no more," rejoined the franc-taupin with a sinister smile. "my cheerfulness is gone! but let us come to the point. my sister died in prison. i succeeded at least in being allowed to see her before she closed her eyes, and to receive her last wishes. she leaves behind three children--a girl and two boys, but the elder does not count." "how's that? explain the mystery." "i am coming to that. my sister's daughter was seized and taken to the convent of the augustinian sisters, where she is now detained." "st. cadouin! what is there to complain about? to have a niece in a convent, is almost like having an angel on your side in paradise!" saying which the mauvais-garçon crossed himself devoutly by carrying his thumb from his nose to his chin, and then across from one corner to the other of his mouth. "oh!" exclaimed grippe-minaud, "and i have neither sister, daughter nor niece in a convent! they would pray for the remission of my sins. i could then be unconcerned for the hereafter, like a fish in the water!" "and their prayers would not cost you a denier!" added pichrocholle with a sigh. "oh, if only my daughter mariotte had not run away at the age of fourteen with a jail-bird, she would now be in a convent, praying for her good father, the tire-laine! by the confession! that was the dream of my life," whereupon the thief crossed himself as the mauvais-garçon had done. the words of the two bandits suited the franc-taupin. they were fresh proofs of the mixture of superstition and crime that marked the bandits' lives. their fanaticism squared with his own projects. he proceeded with his story, to which his two comrades listened attentively: "my niece has no religious vocation. she was taken to the convent, and is held there by force. she must come out. will you help me to carry her off?' "st. cadouin!" cried the mauvais-garçon, terror stricken, and crossing himself anew. "that would be sacrilege!" "to violate a holy place!" came from grippe-minaud, who grew pale and crossed himself like pichrocholle. "by the confession! my hair stands on end at the bare thought of such a thing!" dumb and stupefied, the two brigands looked at each other with dilated eyes. the franc-taupin seemed in no wise disconcerted by their scruples. after a moment of silence he proceeded: "mauvais-garçons and tire-laines are good catholics, i know. therefore, be easy, my devout friends, i have the power to absolve you." "are you going to make us believe you are an apostolic commissioner?" "what does it matter, provided i guarantee to you a plenary indulgence? eh, comrades!" "you--you--josephin? you are mocking us! and yet you claim you have lost your taste for mirth!" separated from the two thieves by the full length of the table, the franc-taupin placed his sword between his legs, planted his bare dagger close before him, and then drew a parchment out of the pocket of his spacious hose. it was hervé's letter of absolution, which the franc-taupin had picked up from the threshold of his sister's house when the lebrenn family was arrested. he unfolded the apostolic schedule; and holding it open in plain view of both the brigands, he said to them: "look and read--you can read." "a letter of absolution!" exclaimed the mauvais-garçon and the tire-laine, with eyes that glistened with greed as they carefully ran over the parchment. "it bears the seals, the signatures--there is nothing lacking!" "i saw day before yesterday a schedule like that in the hands of the count of st. mexin, who paid me two ducats to dispatch a certain fat advocate, a husband who stands in the way of the love affairs of the advocatess with the young seigneur," said the mauvais-garçon. "by the confession!" cried grippe-minaud, re-crossing himself. "the letter is complete! it gives remission even for _reserved cases_. thanks to this absolution, one can do anything! anything, without danger to his soul!" after reading and contemplating with ecstasies the apostolic schedule, the two bandits exchanged a rapid and meaning look, which, however, did not escape the franc-taupin, thoroughly on his guard as he was. he drew back quickly, rose from his seat, dashed the precious parchment back into his pocket, took a few steps away from the table, and standing erect, his right foot forward, his sword in one hand, his dagger in the other, thus addressed the two desperadoes: "by the bowels of st. quenet, my lads! i knew you for too good a brace of catholics not to wish to stab me to death in order to get possession of this absolving schedule, which remits all past, present and future crimes. come on, my dare-devils, i have only one eye left, but it is a good one!" "you are crazy! it is not right to mistrust an old friend that way," expostulated pichrocholle. "you misunderstood our intentions." "we only wanted to examine more closely that blessed and priceless letter," added the tire-laine. "by the confession! happy man that you are to possess such a treasure!" and he crossed himself. "saints of paradise, but grant me such a windfall, and i shall burn twenty wax candles come candlemas!" "it depends upon you whether you shall own this treasure or not," proceeded the adventurer. "i shall give you this letter of absolution, if you help me, to-night, to carry off my niece from the convent of the augustinian sisters. by virtue of this apostolic schedule, you will be absolved of all your sins--past, present and future, and of this night's sacrilege for good measure. thenceforth, you will be privileged fairly to swim in crime, without concern for your souls, as pichrocholle just said. paradise will then be guaranteed to you!" "but," remarked the mauvais-garçon, shaking his head, "this letter absolves only one christian--we are two." "the job being done, you will cast dice for the schedule," josephin answered readily. "there will be one to lose and one to gain. the chances are equal for you both." the two bandits consulted each other with their eyes. pichrocholle spoke up: "but how do you come into possession of that letter? those absolutions are the most expensive. st. cadouin! the least that they cost, i hear, is twenty-five gold crowns." "it is none of your business from whom i hold the schedule. 'sdeath, my sister! all the gold in the world will not pay for the tears that piece of parchment has caused to flow!" answered the franc-taupin, whose visage expressed a profound grief as he thought of the revelations bridget made to him about hervé. recovering his composure the adventurer added: "will you, yes or no, both of you, lend me a strong hand to-night, in order to carry off my niece from the convent of the augustinian sisters, and for another expedition? it is a double game we have to play." "st. cadouin! we are to make two strokes. you never told us about that--" "the second expedition is but child's play. to seize a little casket." "what does the casket contain?" queried the tire-laine, all interest. "only papers," answered the franc-taupin, "besides a few trinkets of no value. moreover, seeing you are scrupulous catholics, i shall add, for the sake of the peace of your souls, that the casket which i wish to recover, was stolen from my brother-in-law. you will be aiding a restitution." "josephin, you are trying to deceive us!" remarked the mauvais-garçon. "people do not attach so much importance to a bunch of papers and worthless trinkets." "when the casket is in our possession you may open it--if there be any valuables in it, they shall be yours." "there is nothing to say to that," rejoined pichrocholle, looking at the tire-laine. "that's fair, eh? we shall accept the proposition." "quite fair," returned the latter. "but let us proceed in order. the abduction of the nun--by the navel of the pope! i shiver at the bare thought. should the cast of the dice not give me the letter of absolution, i remain guilty of a sacrilege!" "that is your risk," answered the franc-taupin; "but if you gain the indulgence--there you are, my catholic brother, safe for all eternity, whatever crimes you may commit." "by the limbs of satan! i know that well enough! it is that very thing that lures me." "and me too," put in the other brigand. "but how are we to manage things in order to enter the convent?" "i shall explain my plan to you. my brother-in-law is in hiding for fear of being arrested. my niece, who was taken to the augustinian convent, was compelled to take the vows to-day." "how do you know that?" "i had gone, as latterly i often get into the humor of doing, and planted myself before my sister's house--and dreamed." "to what end?" "in order to contemplate that poor house, deserted to-day, and where, every time i returned from the country, bridget, her husband and her children gave me a pleasant reception. you devout fellows talk of paradise. that house was a paradise to me. so that, even to-day, i roamed into the neighborhood as an erring soul, my eyes fastened upon that closed window where i had so often seen the dear faces of my sister and her daughter smiling upon me when i knocked at their door--" the expression on the face, the tone of the voice of the franc-taupin, touched even the two bandits, hardened men though they were. josephin smothered a sob and proceeded: "as i was saying a short while ago, i was roaming around the house when i saw a monk approaching me. oh, a good monk! so pale, so worn that i had trouble to recognize him. but he, although he had met me only once, recognized me by my port and by the plaster on my eye. he asked me whether he could have a speedy word with my sister, or my brother-in-law. 'my sister is dead, and my brother-in-law is in hiding,' i answered the monk. he thereupon informed me that my niece was locked up in the convent of the augustinian sisters, where he, an augustinian monk, was her confessor; that, himself subjected several months to a rigorous sequestration, he had only just succeeded in coming out, seeing that the surveillance under which he was held had somewhat begun to relax. poor monk, he looked so wan, so emaciated, so feeble that he could hardly keep himself on his feet. uninformed concerning the misfortunes of our family, his errand was to impart to the parents of my niece what he knew about her. he ran the risk, in the event of his outing being discovered, of being pursued and punished. i took him to the place where my brother-in-law has found a safe retreat. on the way thither i learned the following from the monk: my niece took the veil to-day. according to the custom in such cases, she is to pass the night alone in prayer in the oratory of the virgin, which is separated from the church of the convent by an enclosure of the cloister. now, attention, my lads, to the directions that the monk gave me. the walls of the court-yard of the chapel run along st. benoit's alley. just before sunset, i went over the place and examined the walls. they are not very high. we can easily scale them, while one of us will keep watch on the outside." "that shall be i!" broke in grippe-minaud nervously. "that post for me! i have the eye of a lynx and the ear of a mole!" "you shall be the watcher. pichrocholle and i shall scale the wall. the monk will be waiting for me near the chapel, ready to aid us should anyone attempt to oppose my niece's abduction. i shall find her in the oratory; she will follow me; we shall force open one of the garden gates; and before dawn i shall have the daughter with her father, who is in perfect safety. immediately after, it will then be just early dawn, we shall undertake the second expedition." "the casket that we are to take?" "nothing easier. we shall go, all three, to montaigu college, and shall ask the porter for the number of abbot lefevre's chamber. he is the thief of the casket." "horns of moses!" cried grippe-minaud crossing himself. "an abbot! to raise our hands against another anointed of the lord!" "two sacrileges in one day!" added the mauvais-garçon shaking his head thoughtfully. "that weighs heavy on one's conscience." "what about the letter of absolution!" interjected the franc-taupin impatiently. "by the devil, whose frying pan you are afraid of, my precious catholics! have you faith--yes or no?" "that's so," responded pichrocholle, "there is the schedule of absolution. it covers us! thanks to its beneficent virtue, one of us shall be white as the inside of a snowball." "accordingly," the franc-taupin proceeded, "we shall ask for abbot lefevre, under the pretext of some urgent matter that we must communicate to him; we go up to his room; we knock at the door. our man will still be in bed. we throw ourselves upon him. you two bind and gag him. i shall look for the casket in question--and shall find it. i am certain of that. we then tie our abbot to the bed, keeping him gagged all the while, lest he scream and give the alarm. we close the door after us--and we make tracks for the nearest place of safety." "oh, that would be the merest child's play, provided no priest were concerned," broke in the tire-laine; "besides the abduction of your niece, the violation of a sanctuary!" "yesterday i despatched my seventh man," put in the mauvais-garçon. "accordingly, my conscience is not very well at ease, because, to obtain absolution for a murder, i would have to pay more than the murder fetches me. but a lay murder is but a peccadillo beside a sacrilege!--and then, if after the expedition that you propose to us, the dice should fail to give me the apostolic schedule? what then! st. cadouin! i would dream only of the eternal flames ever after." "that is your risk," again replied josephin imperturbably. "the hour approaches. have you decided? is it yes? is it no? must i look for assistance elsewhere?" "when will you deliver the letter to us?" "just as soon as my niece is safely with her father, and the casket is in my hands. agreed?" "and if you deceive us? if after the expeditions have been successfully carried out, you refuse to deliver the letter to us?" "by the bowels of st. quenet! and if, taking advantage of a moment when i may not be on my guard, you should stab me to-night, that you may seize the letter before rendering me the services which i expect of you? the risks are equal, and compensate each other. enough of words!" "oh, josephin, such a suspicion against me--me your old comrade in arms!" "by the confession! to take us--us who have drunk out of the same pot, for capable of so unworthy an action!" "god's blood! night draws near. we shall need some time to prepare for the escalade," ejaculated the franc-taupin. "for the last time--yes or no?" the two bandits consulted each other for a moment with their eyes. at the end of the consultation pichrocholle reached out his hand to the franc-taupin, saying: "upon the word of a mauvais-garçon, and by the salvation of my soul--'tis done! you can count with me to the death." "upon the word of a tire-laine, and by the salvation of my soul--'tis done! you may dispose of me." "to work!" ordered the franc-taupin. josephin left the tavern of the black grape accompanied by the two bandits. chapter xvii. the cottage of robert estienne. the cottage or country-house, that robert estienne owned near st. ouen, on the st. denis road, was located in a secluded spot, and at a considerable distance from the village. the byroad which led to the entrance of the residence ran upon a gate of grated iron near a little lodge occupied by the gardener and his wife. the principal dwelling rose in the center of a garden enclosed by a wall. the day after that on which the franc-taupin, the mauvais-garçon and the tire-laine held their conference at the tavern of the black grape, michael, robert estienne's gardener, having returned from the field late in the afternoon, and being not a little out of sorts at not finding his wife alison at their home, the key of which she had carried away with her, was grumbling, storming and blowing upon his fingers numb with the december chill. finally his wife, no doubt returning from the village, hove in sight, and wended her way towards the gate. "where the devil did you go to?" michael called out to alison as he saw her from a distance. "could you not at least have left the key in the door? the devil take those forgetful women!" "i went--to confession," answered the gardener's wife avoiding her husband's eyes, and pushing open the gate. "i took the key with me because you were afield." "to confession!--to confession!" replied michael with a growl. "and i was freezing to death." "all the same i must see to my salvation. you sent me this morning with a letter to our master. the curate was good enough to wait for me at the confessional after dinner. i availed myself of his kindness." "very well. but, may the devil take it! i wish you would try to gain paradise without exposing me to be frozen to death." the couple had barely stepped into the lodge when michael stopped to listen in the direction of the gate and said, surprisedly: "i hear the gallop of a horse!" the brave michael stepped out again, looked through the grating of the gate, recognized robert estienne, and called out: "alison, come quick; it is our master!" saying this the gardener threw open the gate to robert estienne. the latter alighted from his horse, and giving the reins to his servant said: "good evening, michael. any news?" "oh, monsieur, many things--" "does my guest run any danger? has any indiscretion been committed?" "no, thanks to god, monsieur. you may be easy on that score. you can rely upon my wife as upon myself. no one suspects at the village that there is anyone hiding at the house." "what, then, has happened, since my last call? alison brought me this morning a note from the friend to whom i am giving asylum. but although the note urged my coming here, it indicated nothing serious." "no doubt the person who is here, monsieur, reserves for his own telling the news that he is no longer alone at the house." "how is that?" "day before yesterday, the tall one-eyed fellow who comes here from time to time, and always at night, called in broad daylight, mounted upon a little cart, drawn by a donkey and filled with straw. he told me to watch the cart, and he went in search of your guest. the two came out together, and out of the straw in the cart they pulled--a monk!" "a monk, say you!--a monk!" "yes, monsieur, a young monk of the order of saint augustine, who looked as if he had not another hour to live, so pale and weak was he." "and what has become of him?" "he remained here, and your guest said to me: 'michael, i beg you to keep the arrival of the monk an absolute secret. i shall inform monsieur estienne of the occurrence. your master will approve the measures i have taken.'" "did you follow his recommendation?" "yes, monsieur, but that is not all. last night the big one-eyed fellow came back just before dawn. he was on horseback, and behind him, wrapped in a cloak on the crupper of his mount, he brought--a nun! i went immediately to notify your guest. he came out running, and almost fainted away at the sight of the nun. bathed in tears he returned with her into the house, while the big one-eyed man rode off at a gallop. it was daylight by that time. finally, towards noon to-day, the big one-eyed man returned once more, but this time clad in a peasant's blouse and cap. he brought a little casket to your guest, and then went off--" astounded at what the gardener was telling him, robert estienne walked up to the house, where he rapped in the nature of a signal--two short raps and then, after a short pause, a third. instantly christian opened the door. "my friend, what is the matter? what has happened?" cried robert estienne, struck by the profound change in the appearance of the artisan, who threw himself into the arms of his patron, murmuring between half-smothered sobs: "my daughter!--my daughter!" robert estienne returned christian's convulsive embrace, and under the impression that some irreparable misfortune had happened, he said in sympathetic accents: "courage, my friend! courage!" "she has been found!" cried christian. the light of unspeakable joy shone in his eyes. "my child has been restored to me! she is here! she is with me!" "true?" asked robert estienne, and recalling the gardener's words he added: "was she the nun?" "it is hena herself! but come, come, monsieur; my heart overflows with joy. my head swims. oh, never have i needed your wise counsel as much as now! what am i now to do?" christian and his patron had all this while remained at the entrance of the vestibule. they walked into a contiguous apartment. "for heaven's sake, my dear christian, be calm," remarked robert estienne. "let me know what has happened. needless to add that my advice and friendship are at your service." recovering his composure, and wiping with the back of his hand the tears that inundated his face, the artisan proceeded to explain: "you are aware of the arrest of my wife, my daughter and my eldest son at our house. i would also have been arrested had i been found at home. my brother-in-law, who lingered in the neighborhood of my house, notified me of the danger i ran, and made me retrace my steps. thanks to josephin and yourself i found a safe refuge, first in paris itself, and then here, in this retreat which seemed to you to offer greater security." "did i not by all that but repay a debt of gratitude? your hospitality to john calvin is probably the principal cause of the persecution that you and your family have been the victims of. despite my pressing solicitations, princess marguerite, whose influence alone has hitherto protected me against my enemies, declined to attempt aught in your behalf. cardinal duprat said to her: 'madam, the man in whom you are interesting yourself is one of the bitterest enemies of the king and the church. if we succeed in laying hands upon that christian lebrenn he shall not escape the gallows, which he has long deserved!' such set animosity towards you, a workingman and obscure artisan, passes my comprehension." "i now know the cause of that bitter animosity, monsieur estienne. before proceeding with my narrative, the revelation is due to you. it may have its bearings upon the advice that i expect from you." christian opened the casket that contained the chronicles of his family, brought to him that very noon by the franc-taupin. he took from the casket a scroll of paper and placed it in robert estienne's hand, saying: "kindly read this, monsieur. the manuscripts to which this note refers are the family chronicles that i have occasionally spoken of to you." robert estienne took the note and read: "ignatius loyola, general of the society of jesus "a. m. d. g. "(_ad majorem dei gloriam_) "despite the incorrectness of their style and other defects of form, the within manuscripts may, especially since the invention of the printing press, become a weapon of great mischief. "this narrative, transmitted from century to century at the domestic hearth to obscure generations of common people could not, before the invention of the printing press, have any evil effect further than to perpetuate execrable traditions within a single family. it is so no longer. these rhapsodies are stamped with the race hatred borne by the gauls towards the franks, the conquered towards the conquerors, the serf towards the seigneur, the subject towards the crown and the church. to-day these rhapsodies could be multiplied indefinitely through the printing press, and thus diffused among the evil-minded people, ever but too prone to rebellion against the pontifical and royal authorities. enlightened by these narratives upon historical events that should forever be a _closed book_ to them, if they are to entertain a feeling of blind submission, a sense of respect, and a wholesome dread for the throne and the altar, the evil-minded common people would in the future engage with ever greater audacity in those revolts that not a single century has hitherto been wholly free from,--a state of things that the society of jesus, with the aid of god, will reduce to order. "therefore, it is urgent that these manuscripts be destroyed without delay, as proposed by our beloved son lefevre, and that the traditions of the _lebrenn_ family be shattered by the following means: "to cause the father and mother to be sentenced as heretics. the proofs of their heresy are plentiful. the torture and the pyre for the infamous wretches. "to lock up in a convent the son and the daughter (hena and hervé) now in paris, and compel them to take the vows. "as to the youngest son, odelin, fifteen years of age, and at present traveling in italy with master raimbaud, an armorer, who is also reported to be a heretic, the return of the lad to paris must be awaited, and then the identical course pursued towards him--capture him, lock him up in a convent, and compel him to take the vows. he is fifteen years old. despite the taint of his early bringing-up, it will be easy to operate upon a child of that age. if, contrary to all likelihood, he can not be reduced to reason, he shall be kept in the convent until eighteen. then he shall be pronounced guilty of heresy, and burned alive. "_i insist_--it is important, not only to destroy the said manuscripts, but also to shatter the traditions of the lebrenn family, and extinguish the same, either by delivering it to the secular arm on crimes of heresy, or by burying its last scions forever in the shadow of the cloister. "the fact must be kept well in mind--there is no such thing as small enemies. the slightest of causes often produces great effects. at a given moment, on the occasion of a rebellion, one resolute man may be enough to carry the populace with him. due to its secular traditions, the lebrenn family might produce such a man. such an eventuality must be prevented; the family must be uprooted. "if, supposing the impossible, the measures herein indicated should fail of success, if this dangerous stock should perpetuate itself, then, it is necessary that our order, equally perpetual, always keep its eye upon these _lebrenns_, who are certain to generate infamous scoundrels. "the instance of this family is one instance among the thousand that go to prove the necessity of the register i have often mentioned. i order that one be kept in each division by the provincial of our society. i order that the names of the families upon whom the attention of our society should be particularly directed, be inscribed in these registers. these records, preserved and transmitted from century to century, will furnish our society the means of surveillance and of action upon future generations. such is my will. "our beloved son lefevre will therefore start the register for the _province of france_ by entering in it the name of the _lebrenn_ family. there shall also be entered the names of _robert estienne_, of _gaspard of coligny_, of the _prince of gerolstein_, of _ambroise paré_, of _clement marot_, of _bernard palissy_, of the _viscount of plouernel_ and of others, too numerous to recite at this place, but who will be found on the heretics' lists furnished by gainier to the criminal lieutenant, who shall furnish the said documents without delay to our beloved son lefevre, whom may god guard. "i. l." "ignatius loyola!" explained christian translating the initials i and l pronounced by robert estienne, who gazed upon the artisan dumbfounded. the latter proceeded with a mournful and bitter tone: "the orders of ignatius loyola were followed. my wife--" and he choked a sob, "my wife was arrested and imprisoned for a heretic. blessed be thou, oh, god! she died in prison. her death saved her, no doubt, from the stake! my daughter was taken to the convent of the augustinian sisters, where the poor child was yesterday compelled to pronounce eternal vows. my son hervé--oh, the monster no longer deserves to be called a son--" "what is there against him?" "a letter of my daughter, written to her mother, whose death she was not aware of, put me on the scent of a horrible secret. this morning i questioned my brother-in-law, who, happier than i, had the opportunity of seeing bridget in her prison. he unveiled to me a distressful mystery--" "proceed with your tale, my friend." wiping away the cold perspiration that bathed his forehead, the artisan went on to say: "hervé entered the convent of the cordeliers, not against his will, but joyfully! he will not part from fra girard, the demon who led him astray. they are now waiting for my son odelin to return from italy. alas, the boy is on his way to paris and i have not been able to notify master raimbaud of what has happened, not knowing where to address a letter to him. they will fall into the hands of our enemies." "just heavens!" exclaimed robert estienne, struck by a sudden thought and breaking in upon christian. "there can be no doubt about it. a minute ago, as i listened to your account of how the orders of ignatius loyola were followed, i wondered how--even in these sad days when the freedom and lives of our citizens are at the mercy of the good or ill will of cardinal duprat and his agent, the criminal lieutenant, john morin--i wondered how the plot concocted against your whole family could be executed with such rapidity. i now wonder no longer. ignatius loyola exercises a powerful influence over the cardinal, who has joined the society of jesus." "is, then, the society of jesus already so highly connected?" "no doubt about it! when i went to entreat the intercession of princess marguerite in behalf of mary la catelle, john dubourg, laforge and others of our friends, my protectress inquired from me whether i knew a certain nobleman, still young of years and lame of foot, who almost every day held protracted conferences with the cardinal, over whom he wielded an absolute sway. thanks to the information i had from you, i was able to enlighten the princess concerning the chief of the new order of jesuits. it is evident that it was with the connivance of the cardinal that ignatius loyola was enabled to smite your family. but what i could not yet understand was the reason that drove that man to pursue you with such inveteracy and to aim at your very life." "ignatius loyola undoubtedly does not pardon my having surprised the secret of his order. lefevre, one of his disciples and a former friend of mine, saw me on the occasion of that fatal night concealed behind a big boulder at the bottom of the quarry. he affected not to notice me, in order not to awaken my suspicions, and the very next day he led the archers of the patrol to my house, seized my family papers, with which i had made him acquainted, and climbed to the garret, where, finding some scraps of letters left behind him by john calvin, he must by those means have been put upon the track of the council of the reformers held at montmartre. only an hour or two after the arrival of our co-religionists the quarry was invaded by the archers." "but how did your family chronicles and the note about them fall back into your hands?" "also through the efforts of my wife's brother, the soldier of adventure i have often spoken of to you. josephin, that is my brother-in-law's name, was going to our house when bridget and my children were arrested. he saw them taken away. he also saw a man, clad in a black frock, with the cowl over his head, carry off the casket that contained our legends. that man was my friend lefevre. once out of my house, and no longer deeming it necessary to conceal his face, he raised his cowl and josephin recognized him. the discovery was a revelation to me. that night my brother-in-law could not attempt to free my wife and children from the hands of the archers. he remained in the neighborhood on the watch for me. it was by him i was apprized of the arrest of my family. at length, yesterday, having encountered near my house an augustinian monk, who left the convent surreptitiously, he learned from him that my daughter had been made to take the veil. once posted upon where hena was to be found, the franc-taupin decided to abduct her from the cloister, helped therein by two other resolute fellows. he succeeded in the perilous undertaking. finally, having no doubt that the casket containing my family chronicles was in lefevre's possession, he repaired early in the morning to montaigu college with his two trusty companions, and took away from the jesuit the casket in which, jointly with our family chronicles, was the note of ignatius loyola. these he brought to me at noon to-day." "what devotion! thanks to the brave adventurer, your daughter is restored to you! the monk to whom you have extended hospitality is, i suppose, the same who escaped from the convent, and placed the franc-taupin in position to deliver your daughter. the situation begins to look less dangerous." "yes, monsieur estienne. and now i implore you, lighten my path with your advice. my head swims. i am a prey to cruel perplexities." "are you afraid your daughter may be traced to this house?" "that fear is terrible enough, but is not what troubles me most." "what is it that troubles you?" christian sobbed aloud: "you do not yet know all. the monk is brother st. ernest-martyr." "he is a true disciple of christ! often did mary la catelle tell me he inclined towards the reformation." "listen, monsieur estienne. the monk was hardly in the house, where he arrived worn to a skeleton by a slow fever, when he lost consciousness. i gave him all the care i could. i divested him of his frock, laid him in my bed, and watched over him. a few leaves of paper dropped out of his clothes. i picked them up. as i ran my eyes over them i read the name of my daughter. i admit that i yielded to an impulse of curiosity, blameworthy, perhaps, but irresistible. i opened the leaves. what a discovery!" "the leaves of paper--" "contained fragments of a sort of diary, to which the thoughts of the young monk were confided. from them i learned that he was chosen for the confessor and instructor of my daughter at the convent of the augustinian sisters--and he became enamored of her. he loves hena to distraction!" "does he know you to be aware of his secret?" "yes. when he recovered consciousness he saw the fragments of his journal in my hands. he uttered a cry of fear. 'be calm,' i said to him; 'it is the soul of an honest man that stands reflected in these revelations. i can only pity you.'" "is your daughter here in the house with him?" "my daughter," answered christian, turning to robert estienne a face bathed in tears, "my daughter is not aware of the young monk's passion--and, in her turn, she loves him." "unhappy child!" "her love is killing her. it was one of the reasons that decided her to take the veil. she has told me all, with her natural candor." "have hena and the young monk met since they are here?" "no. the poor young man--his name was ernest rennepont before he took orders--the moment he learned from me of my daughter's presence in the house, wanted to deliver himself forthwith to the superior of his order, lest we be all taken for accomplices in his flight. i firmly objected to his determination, seeing it meant the loss of his life." "then these young folks are unaware that their love is reciprocated?" "it will be her death, monsieur estienne, it will be her death! i lose my head endeavoring to find a way out of this tangle of ills. what am i to do? what shall i decide? i asked you to come to me without saying why, because i rely upon your great wisdom. you may, perhaps, be able to light the chaos of these afflictions which cause me to stagger with despair. i see only pitfalls and perils around us." christian paused. robert estienne remained a few minutes steeped in silent reflection. "my friend," said the latter, "you know the life of luther as well as i. that great reformer, a monk like ernest rennepont, and, like him, one time full of faith in the roman church, withdrew from her fold on account of the scandals that he witnessed. do you think ernest rennepont is ready to embrace the reformation?" "i do not know his intentions in that regard. but when he saw i was informed of his love for hena, he exclaimed: 'miserable monk that i am, by loving hena i have committed a crime in the eyes of the church. and yet, god is my witness, the purity of my love would do honor to any upright man, not condemned to celibacy.'" "let us return to luther. that reformer always took the stand with irresistible logic against the celibacy of clergymen--" "great god!" cried christian breaking in upon robert estienne. "what recollections your words awaken in my memory! the fragments of the diary written by the unfortunate monk mention a dream in which he saw himself a pastor of the evangelical religion, and husband of hena, giving, like herself, instruction to little children." "why should not ernest rennepont conform his conduct with the precepts of luther?" "oh, monsieur!" murmured christian, carrying both his hands to his burning temples. "hope and doubt disturb my reason. i dare not give myself over to such a thought, out of fear that i be miserably disillusioned. and yet, your words bear the stamp of wisdom and good will." "my friend, let us reason calmly. control your anxiety for a moment. the young monk is a man of heart; we may not doubt that. has not his conduct during these recent circumstances increased your affection for him?" "it is true. i esteem him greatly." "does not, as he expressed it, his pure and noble love for hena do honor to any upright man?" "i firmly believe so after reading the pages which ernest rennepont believed he wrote for none but his own eyes." "now, my friend, let us suppose he embraces the reformed religion. his knowledge, his good habits and his liking for teaching little children--all that would render him worthy of being a minister of the new church. i feel almost certain our friend would present his name with joy to our brothers for election, and these will acclaim him their pastor. never could the evangelical word have a worthier interpreter." "oh, monsieur estienne, have mercy! do not cheer my heart with such supreme hopes, destined, perhaps, to be dashed." "alas, you have suffered so much, that i can well understand your hesitation to foster a consoling hope. but reflect an instant, and you will admit that the hope is in no wise an exaggerated one. let us sum up--ernest rennepont renounces his order, embraces the reformation, is chosen a pastor, and he can then contract marriage. granting all this, do you not believe your daughter will consent to the union, if you approve of it?" "she is dying of that fatal love, believing herself separated from ernest rennepont by an unbridgeable chasm of impossibilities. she surely would not refuse to wed the man she loves." "well, then, my friend, what other obstacles do you see? do not these expectations, so far from being deceptive, become certainties? does not the grief of the unfortunate couple change into ineffable bliss? you remain worried, dejected." "monsieur estienne, the project is too beautiful!" "christian! how can you, a man of sense and firmness, succumb to such weakness of spirit!" "the death of my wife, the lamentable position in which my beloved daughter finds herself, the crime of the wretch whom i can no longer call my son--so many sorrows, heaped one upon the other, have cracked the springs of my soul. i feel myself overwhelmed and nerveless." "and yet, at no time have you been in greater need of energy. you say, my friend, that the plan is too beautiful? but, should it be realized, do you not still run grave dangers? do you forget that your freedom and life are both threatened? do you forget that, at this very hour, they are seeking to track ernest rennepont and your daughter? regain courage with the hope of triumphing over your enemies. we must carry on the struggle without truce or let." "thanks, monsieur estienne; thanks! your words comfort me. yes; nevertheless, the plan you propose and which would snatch my daughter from the despair that is killing her--that plan is yet far from being accomplished." "this is what i shall do. should the errand embarrass you, i shall myself see ernest rennepont, shall propose to him to embrace the reformation and become a pastor of the new church in order to verify his dream--provided hena accepts the union. when we shall have made sure of ernest rennepont's consent, you shall see your daughter. i do not believe there is any doubt about her answer. the marriage being agreed upon, we must make haste. the disappearance of hena and the forceful restitution of your family archives will redouble the zeal of your persecutors. neither you, your daughter, nor her husband would any longer be safe in the neighborhood of paris. i have already considered the emergency when this retreat would cease to offer security to you. i have a friend who is a printer in la rochelle, a fortified town, rich, industrious, well armed, wholly devoted to the reformation, and so full of reliance on the power of her municipal franchise, her ramparts and the bravery of her numerous inhabitants, as confidently to defy our enemies. you and yours will be there in perfect safety. you can live there on the fruit of your labor. better than anyone else, i know how skilled a mechanic you are. finally, if you should have to leave paris before the return of odelin--" "oh, monsieur estienne, i tremble at the thought of that lefevre on the watch for the lad's return in order to kidnap him! what a blow that would be to me! what a fate have our enemies in store for my poor odelin!" "i shall take charge of that. to-morrow i shall see madam raimbaud. her husband has probably notified her when she may expect him home from italy. if so, and even otherwise, your brother-in-law, the franc-taupin, who already has given you so many proofs of his devotion, will be able to aid us in preventing your son from being kidnapped. i greatly rely upon his assistance." "may heaven hear you!" "travelers from italy usually enter paris by the bastille gate." "yes. besides, seeing that master raimbaud, like most all armorers, resides in the neighborhood of that fortress, it is almost certain he will come by the suburb of st. antoine. that point is settled." "if madam raimbaud is informed upon the date of her husband's arrival, the franc-taupin must be placed on watch along the road from italy, or near the bastille. he will then warn your son not to enter the city, and deliver to him a letter from you directing him to meet you in la rochelle. i shall take charge of supplying odelin with the necessary funds for the journey. when in la rochelle, near you, he will continue his armorer's trade. and now, christian, i share your prevision. the times are approaching when, more than ever, there will be work for those whose occupation is the forging of implements of war. come, courage! let us reserve ourselves for the struggle." "how can i express my gratitude to you. you think of everything." "my friend, for the space of two generations your family and mine have mutually rendered each other so many services that it is impossible to say on which side the debt lies heavier. let us not lose an instant's time. take me to ernest rennepont. so soon as i shall know his mind, i shall inform you. you will then propose the marriage to your daughter with the caution that the occasion requires. in her present delicate condition, after all the sufferings she has undergone, care must be taken not to shock her even with joy. joy may kill, as well as despair." christian led robert estienne to the apartment of the young monk, and leaving the two alone, impatiently awaited the issue of their interview, whereupon he was to see hena. chapter xviii. for better and for worse. sister st. frances-in-the-tomb, as hena lebrenn was christened in religion, occupied in the cottage a chamber contiguous to that of her father. the young girl still wore the nun's garb. the pallor of her visage, framed in the folds of her coif and her long white veil, was hardly distinguishable from the dull whiteness of the linen. pain and resignation were traced on her features, that emaciation rendered almost transparent. seated near a window, her hands clasped over her knees, and her large blue eyes raised to heaven, she seemed to contemplate without seeing them the somber clouds which the north wind drove before it with weird moanings. hena's thoughts turned upon the events of the last three days. despite her decision to devote herself to a nun's life, as the only means of again seeing her family, to live never again under the same roof with her brother whose passion for her inspired the maid with invincible horror, and to bury forever in the chilly shadows of the cloister her fatal love for st. ernest-martyr--despite these sentiments, on the night that, her vows being pronounced, she was praying in the solitude of the virgin's chapel, she welcomed her uncle josephin as a liberator, and never hesitated an instant to flee with him from the convent of the augustinian sisters. she was ignorant of her mother's fate. the hope of soon, after so cruel a separation, being again in the embrace of the parents she loved so dearly, occupied all her thoughts. when, upon seeing christian again, the young girl learned of her mother's death, the persecutions that he himself was the object of, and the presence of brother st. ernest-martyr in the same retreat, her head reeled. weakened by suffering and bewildered by so many unexpected events, the girl's mind threatened for a moment to go astray. her native vigor carried, however, the day. she said to herself: "my duty is clear. i shall stay near my father. i shall endeavor with my tenderness to soften his sorrow for the loss of my mother. he must flee this place. i shall accompany him in his exile. i shall also take my mother's place to my brother odelin. i shall not endeavor to forget brother st. ernest-martyr. but, while preserving this love sacred in the recesses of my heart, to you, o, my god, i pray--grant through your infinite mercy that this love do not kill me--grant to preserve my life for the sake of my father, who stands in need of my care and my affection!" such were the reflections of the young girl, when, some hours after his interview with robert estienne, she saw christian enter her chamber. the printer's face reflected suppressed happiness. tears, sweet tears they now were, flowed from his eyes. despite his desire not to betray his joy before his daughter, lest he cause her too deep an emotion, he could not withhold pressing her repeatedly to his heart, and covering her face with kisses. touched by such tender effusion, and struck by the change in her father's appearance, hena cried: "god be praised, father, you bring me good news! are you no longer pursued? you will no longer have to keep in hiding?" christian shook his head, and still holding his daughter in his arms, contemplated her, enraptured. he sat down; placed her on his knees, as a little child is placed; and in a voice that trembled with emotion, said: "yes, my dear hena; yes, my beloved child, i have good news for you--but not what you thought. we are soon to leave this retreat, where our persecutors might discover us, and we shall go far away from here, in order to escape all pursuit." "and yet, father, your voice trembles with joy. i read happiness on your face." "the good, the unexpected tidings that i bring--concern you--you alone--" "me alone, father?" "no; not you alone--what is good to you, is it not good to me also?" hena looked at her father, surprised. the latter hesitated to say more, fearing the consequences of too sudden a revelation. he paused for a moment and proceeded: "do you know, my child, what the pastor of the reformed religion is?" "i believe he is a minister of the evangelium; is it not?" "yes, the pastors spread the evangelical word. but, contrary to the catholic priests, who are condemned to celibacy by the church, the ministers of the reformed cult are free to contract matrimony, and to fulfil its obligations." a smile of sadness flitted over hena's lips. her father followed her closely with his eyes. he fathomed her secret thoughts. "the right of its ministers to be husbands and fathers, recognized by the evangelical church, has induced several catholic priests to break with rome and embrace the reformation." dropping her head upon her father's shoulder, hena wept. christian drew himself slightly back in order to raise the tear-bedewed visage of his daughter, whom he still kept upon his knees, his arms around her, and his heart beating with hope. "hena, no doubt you have been thinking to yourself: 'alas, brother st. ernest-martyr is a catholic priest!'" "you have guessed my thoughts, dear father. i thought to myself there was nothing for me but to bow before so fatal a state of things. but let us talk about that good news which you seem so anxious to impart to me." "very well, dear child--but in order not to have to return again to a matter painful to you, i shall begin by saying that brother st. ernest-martyr, or rather ernest rennepont, which is his real name, withdraws himself from the catholic church and embraces the reformation." christian felt hena trembling convulsively upon his knees. the poor child carried both her hands to her face, whence fresh drops of tears flowed down upon her robe. "my dear child," resumed the artisan, hardly able to repress his gladness, "there is still another confession which i expect from your frankness. you are saying to yourself, are you not: 'ernest rennepont abjured his vows--he is free--he can now choose a wife--if he would only love me!'" "father, good father, let us drop such thoughts!" "oh, my beloved child!" cried the artisan radiant with joy. "oh, my only support, my only consolation! courage! courage! not now any more in order to resist sorrow--but to defend you--from the transports that an unexpected happiness often causes us--" "an unexpected happiness, father?" "yes, the gladsome tidings that i bring to you are--first, ernest rennepont's resolution to become a pastor of the evangelical church. thus he is free to marry, without discontinuing his services to god. yes, and do you know, hena, that if the most cherished wish of his heart is verified, do you know, hena, who would be the wife of his choice? it would be--it would be you--you, my treasure! ernest rennepont loves you to distraction since the day he first saw you at mary la catelle's." despite the precautions taken by her father, hena could not resist the shock of the revelation. still holding his daughter upon his knees, christian saw her lose color, her head dropped upon his shoulder, she lost consciousness. he rose, carried the girl to her bed, at the head of which he knelt down, and awaited the end of the crisis that the excess of joy had brought on. a moment later he heard a rap at the door. he asked: "is it you, monsieur estienne?" "yes--and i am not alone." "do not come in now," answered christian. "hena is in a swoon. i fear that in recovering consciousness the sight of her betrothed might cause an immediate relapse." certain motions of hena, and the light flush that by degrees returned to her cheeks, announced the girl's gradual recovery. her eyes remained half shut. she turned her haggard face towards her father. presently, fixing upon him her still partly veiled eyes, she seemed to interrogate her confused recollections. "no, my dear child," said the artisan; "it is not a dream. you are not the sport of an illusion. ernest rennepont renounces the monastic life; he embraces the evangelical creed, of which he will be a pastor. he has long loved you with the purest and noblest love. i surprised the secret of his soul. never did father wish for his daughter a husband more worthy of esteem and affection." and pointing with his finger to the door: "he is there, accompanied by our friend, monsieur estienne. do you feel yourself strong enough to receive them, my poor, dear child? would you like to have them come in?" "he loves me!" cried hena, taking her father's hands and kissing them. "he loves me, also! since when?" "yes, yes--he will tell you all that himself," answered christian with a smile of ineffable happiness. "he is there. he awaits but your consent to come to you, my dear child." hena sat up on her couch, placed one of her hands on her heart to restrain its throbs and still too much moved to speak, made to her father an affirmative sign. the artisan thereupon introduced robert estienne, supporting on his arm ernest rennepont. at that moment the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard from the yard. yielding to an involuntary sense of uneasiness, christian ran to the window, and was at once put at ease at seeing his brother-in-law the franc-taupin alighting from his mount. hena and ernest rennepont, strangers to what went on around them, saw but each other. when the young man was near enough to the couch on which hena was seated, he dropped on his knees before her, clasped his hands, and raised up to her his pale visage, now radiant with celestial bliss. unable to utter a word, the two contemplated each other, absorbed. robert estienne could not hold back the tears that gathered in his eyes. the artisan stepped towards the two lovers, took hena's hand, placed it in ernest rennepont's, who had remained on his knees, and said in a voice broken with emotion: "be betrothed--never have nobler hearts been worthier of each other." christian was pronouncing these solemn words when the franc-taupin entered. already informed by his brother-in-law of the mutual love of the two young folks, the soldier of adventure thrilled with joy at seeing them united. "know the rest, my friend," said the artisan to josephin. "my daughter and he who from this day is my son owe their liberty to you. you are entitled to know all that concerns them. ernest rennepont renounces his monastic vows; he abjures catholicism and embraces the reformation, of which he is to be a pastor. as you know, the evangelical pastors can marry." "it is my advice that the marriage be promptly concluded," answered the franc-taupin in a low voice as he led christian and robert estienne to the window, while the betrothed couple remained under the spell of a profound ecstasy, hearing nothing, seeing nothing of what happened around them. the franc-taupin proceeded in a low voice: "i have come from paris in a hurry. i heard an announcement made to the sound of trumps, to the effect that sister st. frances-in-the-tomb and brother st. ernest-martyr are adjudged relapsed, and subject to the punishment visited upon such a sin--the stake!" "the stake!" muttered robert estienne, shivering with horror, while making an instant sign intended to check an exclamation of terror that christian was on the point of giving vent to. "time presses," proceeded the franc-taupin. "my brother-in-law, his daughter and the young monk must leave this house this very night. it will not be safe to-morrow." "i am of your opinion," answered robert estienne. "this is the way we shall proceed: you, josephin, will return to paris on the spot with a letter from me to one of our pastors, urging him to come here this very evening in order to take the abjuration of ernest rennepont, and give his nuptial benediction to the betrothed couple. immediately after, hena and her husband will set out, with you, and christian, who will take my horse. his daughter will ride on the crupper." "the young monk shall ride behind me on my nag," said the franc-taupin. "i shall escort the fugitives to a distance of five or six leagues from paris." "when you come back here bring with you lay clothes for the young couple," said robert estienne, handing his purse to the franc-taupin. "you will also pay the price of your nag to the stableman from whom you have the animal. ernest rennepont shall keep it, and ride on it with christian and his daughter to la rochelle. only there will they all three be safe. there is not an instant to lose. quick, to horse, josephin, to horse! the lives of us all are at stake." the franc-taupin left hurriedly, casting a tender look upon hena and ernest rennepont. the two, their hearts in heaven, remained ignorant of the new dangers that threatened them. the eyes of the society of jesus were open. * * * * * midnight soon arrived. robert estienne, christian, his daughter, ernest rennepont and the franc-taupin assembled in the parlor of the country house, the unsafe refuge that they were soon to quit. an old man, with long white hair, the pastor of the evangelical church, responded to the call of robert estienne, in order to receive the abjuration of the betrothed couple and bestow upon them his nuptial benediction. a table with a few wax candles stood at the rear of the apartment. on the table were also an ink-horn, pens, paper, and a little pocket bible with silver clasps. hena and ernest rennepont were in front of the table. behind it stood the pastor. robert estienne, christian and the franc-taupin assisted the betrothed couple. the agitation caused by so many unexpected events, and the intoxication of repressed happiness animated the recently pallid countenances of the bride and bridegroom. wrapped in meditation, and their thoughts turning to the past, they raised their souls to god in a transport of speechless gratitude. they implored the mercy of their creator. there was nothing terrestrial in their love. they saw in the consecration of their marriage only the right to devote themselves to each other, to vie in mutual sacrifices and abnegation, and to serve the holy cause of progress. they knew the perils that the apostles of the new doctrine must confront. taking from the table a sheet of paper, the pastor read in a solemn voice the following act of abjuration: "'on this th day of december, , appeared before us ernest rennepont, called in his religion brother st. ernest-martyr, and louise hena lebrenn, called in her religion sister st. frances-in-the-tomb, who declare they desire to renounce the roman idolatry, and swear to confess the evangelical religion, to live and die in the faith, and to participate in the holy sacrament of communion. upon these conditions louise hena lebrenn and ernest rennepont have been informed that they will be admitted to the evangelical church'[ ]--be pleased to sign the act of abjuration." hena and ernest signed the act with steady hands. thereupon they knelt down upon two seats brought in by christian and the franc-taupin. the pastor resumed, and addressed the couple with a moved voice: "you, hena lebrenn, and you, ernest rennepont, will you live together in the marriage state that god himself has instituted, and which st. paul represents as among the most honorable of conditions? if that is your intention, hena lebrenn and ernest rennepont, make your will known. are you willing to be united to each other?" "yes," answered ernest, raising his eyes as if to take heaven for his witness. "yes," answered hena in her turn. "then," resumed the pastor, "may the lord deign to bless your wishes. you, ernest rennepont, do you declare, here before god, that you have taken and do hereby take hena lebrenn, here present, for your wife? do you promise to live holily with her, to be true to her, as is the duty of a good and faithful husband, and god commands you by his word?" "yes!" answered ernest rennepont. "and you, hena lebrenn, do you declare here before god, that you have taken and do hereby take ernest rennepont, here present, for your husband? do you promise to love him, to live holily with him, and to keep your troth to him as is the duty of a faithful wife, and as god commands you by his word?" "yes," answered hena, with her eyes modestly cast down. "keep your promises to each other," said the pastor in conclusion. "seeing god has united you in the sacred bonds of matrimony, live together in peace, in unity, in purity, helpful to each other, and faithful to your pledge, obedient to the divine command. oh, lord god! lord of wisdom and of goodness!" added the evangelical pastor, joining his venerable hands in prayer, "since it has pleased thee to call this man and this woman to the holy state of matrimony--should it be thy will that children be born to them, cause them, as worthy husband and wife, to raise their offspring in piety and to train them to virtue."[ ] the touching solemnity of the ceremony was suddenly interrupted by the precipitate entrance of michael, the gardener. pale and distracted he rushed to the house and threw the door open, crying: "monsieur estienne--malediction upon me! you are betrayed!" a moment of silent stupor ensued upon these words. hena threw herself instinctively into her father's arms. ernest rennepont approached her. the franc-taupin dashed to the window and listened in the direction of the yard, while the pastor raised his eyes heavenward, saying: "oh, lord, if thou reservest me for martyrdom, the victim is ready, may thy will be done!" "we are betrayed, michael?" cried robert estienne. "who could have betrayed us?" "my wife--oh, that accursed confession! alison revealed to our curate that a monk and a nun were here in hiding. my wife has just admitted it to me amid tears. the curate departed post haste to paris, immediately after confessing and extracting the secret from her. death and a curse upon the infamous wretch!" and throwing himself at the feet of robert estienne, michael cried with clasped hands: "my good and worthy master! do not take me for a wicked or dishonorable man. i am not guilty of the treason!" "to horse!" bellowed the franc-taupin. "we must depart at once! the curate will have notified his bishop, the bishop will have notified cardinal duprat, and he will have issued orders to the criminal lieutenant. by this time the archers must be on the road to st. ouen. let us lose not an instant--to horse! mine is saddled--have yours saddled, monsieur estienne. christian will take his daughter on the crupper of his horse. i shall take ernest rennepont on my nag--and, away at a gallop! we shall soon be out of reach." putting the word to the deed, the franc-taupin dashed out of the parlor, dragging ernest rennepont with him almost against his will. realizing the wisdom of the franc-taupin's orders, christian put one arm around hena, sustained and led her in the steps of the franc-taupin. robert estienne and the pastor hastened to follow them, while the despairing gardener lamented his fate, repeating: "that accursed confession! the infamous curate!" the franc-taupin was hurrying his horse out of the stable and robert estienne was precipitately saddling his own with the help of michael, when alison, running in all in a flurry from the bypath that led to the outer gate of the cottage, cried: "oh, my poor man, all is lost! the mounted archers are here! i heard the tramp of their horses down the avenue. i saw their muskets glistening through the hedges along the road." "is the iron gate locked?" asked the franc-taupin, the only one to preserve coolness in the presence of the imminent danger. "is the gate strong?" "it is strong and locked--double locked," answered the gardener. "the key is in my house." "it will take them some time to force the gate," observed the franc-taupin; and addressing robert estienne: "is there any issue, besides the gate, to leave the place?" "none other--the garden is enclosed by a wall." "is the wall high?" "about ten feet." "then," replied the franc-taupin, "we need not despair." at that moment the clank of sabres and muskets was heard down the principal avenue, and a voice called out: "open! in the name of the king, open!" "there are the archers!" cried hena stricken with terror. "it is done for us!" "i shall deliver myself up!" cried ernest rennepont, rushing out towards the alley. "the archers may thereby be induced not to push their search any further. may the all-powerful god protect you!" the franc-taupin seized hena's bridegroom by the sleeve of his coat, and prevented him from taking another step. turning to the gardener, he asked: "have you a ladder?" "yes, sir." "fetch it quick." michael obeyed, while the archers redoubled their clamor and threatened to force the gate if it was not opened. "monsieur estienne," said the franc-taupin, "go forward quickly and speak with the archers. ask them what brings them here, at this hour. engage them in conversation all you can. keep them outside. gain time. i take charge of the rest. if you can succeed in keeping the soldiers off for about ten minutes, we shall have won. they will find no one else at the house." robert estienne turned to christian, who still held hena in his arms: "come, christian! courage! coolness! the situation is hedged in with dangers; but it is not forlorn." saying this he walked to the iron gate, at the moment when the gardener reappeared carrying a long ladder on his shoulder. "what is there outside of the garden," asked the franc-taupin, "a highroad or fields?" "fields, sir; they are separated from the walls by a path and hedges. beyond are meadows, as far as the eye extends." josephin listened a moment, and noticing that the clamor of the archers at the gate had subsided, he said: "courage! all's well! monsieur estienne is parleying with the soldiers. we shall have time to flee." and addressing the gardener: "lead us quickly to the furthest end of the garden." michael led the fugitives along a narrow path. after having walked about three hundred paces, he stepped before a wall, against which he placed the ladder. "quick!" ordered the franc-taupin, again stopping to listen. "the archers are becoming impatient. they are about to force the gate." christian was the first to ascend the ladder; he climbed to the top of the wall, straddled it, and, stooping down, reached his hand out to hena. he took firm hold of her, raised her, and seated her, still holding her in his arms, in front of him on the top of the wall, where he was successively joined by ernest rennepont and the franc-taupin. the latter drew the ladder up, with the help of the gardener, tipped it over to the other side, and quickly planted it outside the wall. one by one the fugitives descended and alighted upon a path bordered by thick and high hedges. "we are saved!" cried christian, passionately clasping hena to his heart. "we are saved, my dear child!" "not yet!" came thundering upon their ears. an archer rose from behind the hedge where he had been lying in ambush. immediately he sounded the alarm at the top of his voice: "here, comrades! here! this way!" to leap over the hedge at a bound; to seize the archer by the throat with one hand, while with the other he drew his sword--these were the rapid moves of the franc-taupin. it was too late. the alarm given by the soldier was heard. several other foot soldiers, who came on the cruppers of the mounted archers, and were posted around the walls, hurried to the spot, preceded by a sergeant, and all cried in chorus: "kill all who resist! keep only the monk and the nun alive!" a melee ensued in the semi-darkness of the night. after superhuman efforts to tear his daughter from the soldiers, christian was hewed down with a sword. ernest rennepont and hena remained in the hands of the armed men. after almost strangling the soldier who had given the alarm, the franc-taupin profited by the darkness to creep on hands and feet to a hedge under which he blotted himself from sight. from his hiding place he heard christian drop to the ground and call out in a fainting voice: "i am killed--help! help!" the artisan was left for dead by the archers. obedient to the orders from their chief, their main object was the capture of the monk and the nun, whom they now carried safely away. little by little silence returned to the sequestered region. soon the sound of a retreating troop of horsemen announced the departure of the archers for paris. the franc-taupin emerged from his place of concealment, ran to christian, knelt beside him, opened his coat and shirt soaked in blood, and placed his hand upon his heart. he felt it beat. "there is but one chance of safety for christian," said the franc-taupin to himself. "if the gardener has not been arrested, he will consent to grant asylum to the wounded man. let me endeavor to snatch my brother-in-law from death--after that, i swear, you shall be avenged, oh, my sister! avenged shall be also your daughter, whose horrid fate i well foresee!" michael and his wife consented to take in the wounded man, and nurse him in robert estienne's house. the latter and the pastor were taken prisoners to paris by the archers. chapter xix. on the road to paris. on the st of january, , a few weeks after the seizure of hena lebrenn and ernest rennepont at the cottage of master robert estienne, two riders crossed the charenton bridge on their way to paris. master raimbaud, the armorer, one of the riders, was a man in robust middle age, and of an open and resolute countenance. his headgear consisted of a broad-brimmed felt hat; he wore a coat of mail over his jacket, and large traveling boots on his sturdy legs. a cutlass hung from his side, his holsters were furnished with pistols, and his wide brown coat flowed down over the crupper of his horse. the other rider, odelin lebrenn, was then just fifteen. his candid and pleasant features, slightly browned by the sun of italy, recalled those of his sister hena. a black bonnet, ornamented with a little red feather and placed slightly aslant over the lad's blonde hair, left wholly exposed the smiling face that radiated with increasing joy in the measure that he approached the end of his journey. the apprentice and his master were at that moment ascending a steep hill, at a steady pace. despite the steepness of the hill, however, odelin's mount frequently broke out into a trot, surreptitiously urged thereto by the spurs of the boy. master raimbaud smiled under his brown beard, as he guessed the cause of odelin's impatience, while he himself kept his own horse well in hand. he had just once more baffled the innocent manoeuvre of his apprentice, who had run ahead: "well, odelin," he called after him, "there is your horse again breaking out into a trot. one would think he'd got the devil at his heels." "master raimbaud, it is not my fault," answered the youngster, somewhat abashed, and reining in, to his regret. "my horse forces my hand. it must be the flies that torment him. that's why he runs ahead." "god's head! flies in the month of january, my boy!" replied the armorer jovially, as he came abreast of his apprentice. "you must be thinking yourself still in summer on the roads of milan." "well, i shall not insist on my fib, master raimbaud. i must admit to you that the nearer we approach paris, where my mother, and father, and sister, and brother, and my good uncle josephin are expecting me, i feel such a thrill of joy, that without my knowledge my spurs approach the flanks of my horse--and then the beast starts trotting." "i can understand your impatience, my lad. it does credit to your heart. but endeavor to control yourself a little. we have ridden a long stretch to-day. we should not wind our horses. certain of the joy in wait for you, what is the use of running after it?" "that's true, master raimbaud," replied odelin, red with emotion and his eyes dimmed with moisture. "within two hours i shall see again all those whom i love; i shall embrace them--" "and i shall add to their happiness at seeing you back again, by telling them how well pleased i have been with you during our trip." "how could i otherwise than endeavor to please you, master raimbaud? if i were your own son you could not treat me with greater tenderness, or more attention." "for the simple reason that a worthy son would not behave differently toward me than yourself, my little odelin. such are the fruits of the bringing up you have received from your worthy father and your excellent mother." "oh, master raimbaud, when i think of the caresses that await me!" "look to your spurs, my lad! look to your spurs. we shall now soon be at the top of the hill. stop your horse a moment. one of the straps of your valise is loose. fasten it." "oh, heaven! if i had lost my valise!" cried the apprentice, reddening at the thought. stopping his horse, he turned in his saddle, and hastened to fasten the strap, enumerating with childish glee as he did so the treasures contained in the bag: "had i lost you, my dear valise, it would then have been adieu to my little presents--the brooch of chiseled silver for my mother, the quintus curtius printed in bologna for my good and learned father, a vermillion pin for my handsome sister hena, a bronze writing case, with all its accessories, for the studious hervé--" "and that famous flask of imola wine for your uncle, the franc-taupin, who will be delighted to taste the italian nectar." "that's not all, master raimbaud; i also have for my uncle a fine steel milanese dagger, which i forged myself at the workshop of master gaspard during my idle moments. oh, dear uncle, i would fear to offend him if i brought him a wine flask only." "come, the strap is now fast. let us resume our way. once we reach the top of the hill we shall start on a trot, my impatient fellow. i said a trot, did you understand? no galloping! we must husband the strength of our mounts." master raimbaud and his apprentice resumed their route at a rapid pace. already they descried in the distant horizon the numerous spires and belfries of the churches of paris. as they were passing before an isolated house on the road, the battered sign of which announced it as a roadside tavern, they heard someone loudly call out to them: "master raimbaud! odelin! halloa! halloa, there!" "it is my uncle!" cried the lad, startled, and quickly making his horse rear on its haunches. "i recognize my uncle's voice!" "he must have come out to meet us, apprized by my wife of the day of our arrival," explained the armorer, also reining in. but looking to the right, and to the left, and all around him, he added, not a little surprised: "where the devil may the franc-taupin be niched? he is not in heaven, i suppose, although the voice seemed to come from above." no less astonished than his patron, odelin also looked in all directions, when he saw, emerging from the tavern which they had ridden by, a tall capuchin friar with his face almost wholly concealed in the cowl of his frock, and a chaplet of large beads girdling his waist. the monk moved with long strides towards the travelers. "good god!" cried odelin as the cowl of the monk who ran towards them was blown back by the wind. "my uncle josephin has become a capuchin friar!" "god's head!" exclaimed the armorer, sharing the astonishment of his apprentice. "may the fire of my forge consume me if i ever expected to see such a metamorphosis! the franc-taupin a capuchin friar!" seeing that his nephew, upon whom he kept his eyes fixed, was about to jump down to the ground, the soldier of fortune checked him with a wave of his hand, saying: "remain on horseback, my boy!" and addressing the armorer: "master raimbaud, let us go into the tavern. it is a safe place, and there is a stable for your horses. we have matters to talk over." "halt here? no, indeed! i am in too great a hurry to embrace my wife. a few hours later, if you should feel so disposed, we may empty a pot of wine at my own house, my gay friend!" answered the armorer, misunderstanding the franc-taupin's invitation. "everything in its season. business before pleasure. i wish to be back in paris before night. so, then, good-bye!" "master raimbaud, you can not enter paris before dark and without great precautions," said the franc-taupin in a low voice. "follow me into the tavern. you can stable your horses there, and i shall impart to you grave tidings, the saddest that you can imagine--but not a word of that to odelin." "be it so! let us go in," answered master raimbaud, turning his horse's head, while evil presentiments assailed him. ignorant of the secret information whispered by his uncle to the armorer, the apprentice followed the two into the tavern, asking himself with increasing wonderment how the franc-taupin could have become a friar. josephin pulled down over his face the cowl of his frock and led the two travelers to the yard of the tavern, from which access was had to the stable. "unsaddle the horses, my friend," said master raimbaud to odelin, "and give them feed. join us in the tavern when that is attended to." "what, master raimbaud, are we to stay here when we are barely two hours from paris!" "mind the horses, my boy. i shall tell you afterwards why we must stop here." obedient to his master's orders, odelin unwillingly alighted and threw himself upon his uncle's neck, saying with a voice broken with affectionate remembrances: "my dear uncle! how are mother, father, sister and brother? all well at home?" without answering his nephew, josephin held him in a close embrace. the boy felt upon his cheeks the tears that flowed from his uncle's eyes. "uncle, you weep!" "with joy, my boy!" answered josephin in a broken voice. "it is out of joy to see you after such a long absence." and disengaging himself from his nephew's arms, he proceeded: "you will join us presently. ask the tavern-keeper the way to the room in the attic facing the road." then turning to the armorer: "come, master raimbaud, come!" overjoyed at having met his uncle, and consoling himself with the thought that, after all, the hour of seeing his family, so impatiently awaited, might not be greatly delayed, odelin busied himself with unsaddling the horses and furnishing them with provender. the goodhearted boy, thereupon, in his hurry to offer the franc-taupin the little presents he brought him from italy, rummaged in his valise for the flask of imola wine and the dagger that he himself forged for him. the boy was anxious to show his affection to josephin even before he was back home in paris. the franc-taupin led master raimbaud to a room on the top floor of the tavern, facing the highroad. there he informed the armorer of the death of bridget and of the capture of hena and ernest rennepont, who were since held imprisoned as relapsed sinners; and, finally, of christian's departure for la rochelle. the franc-taupin's hopes had been verified. the presence of his brother-in-law at robert estienne's country house was not suspected. the last ineffectual searches, undertaken by the archers at the house, sheltered him against any further visitations. the influence of princess marguerite, and the luster shed upon the reign of francis i by the marvelous productions of robert estienne's printing establishment, combined to save the printing master once more--alas, it was to be the last time!--from the hatred of his enemies. although a relapsed monk and nun were found on his premises, he was set free and left unmolested. accordingly, christian awaited in safety the time when, healed of his wound by the skill of the surgeon ambroise paré, who visited him secretly, he could take his departure for la rochelle. the casket containing the narratives of the lebrenn family had been concealed by the franc-taupin with admirable foresight among the brush of the garden, on the very night after the archers seized hena. as soon as christian was able to undertake the journey, he assumed the disguise of a traveling seller of chaplets and relics. the religious traffic was essential to his safety along the road. carrying on his back his pack of religious trumpery, among which his family legends were secreted, he tramped to la rochelle, where he arrived safe and sound. dumbfounded by these revelations, seeing the deep interest he harbored for christian and his family, master raimbaud exclaimed in distraction: "poor odelin! what an unexpected blow for the unhappy boy! only a short time ago the mere thought of seeing his family threw him into transports of joy--and now he is to learn--oh, it is horrible!" "horrible!" echoed the franc-taupin in sinister accents. "but blood calls for blood! a soldier of adventure since my fifteenth year, already i had become a wolf--now i shall be a tiger! the reformers will draw the sword to avenge their martyrs--no quarter for the assassin priests! by my sister's death!" proceeded the franc-taupin, livid with rage and raising his clenched fist heavenward, "call me a wooden-bowled cripple and a lame poltroon if i do not tear up the papists with my very teeth! but," restraining himself, he resumed: "let us consider what now most presses. master raimbaud, here is a letter from your wife. i know its contents. she conjures you not to go back to your establishment, and to take shelter in the place of safety that she mentions. she will join you there in order to consider with you what is to be done. she is a cautious and resolute woman." "my good martha alarms herself unnecessarily," observed the armorer after reading his wife's letter. "however violent the persecution of the reformers may be, and although a heretic myself, i have nothing to fear. i work for several seigneurs of the court; i have fashioned their finest arms; they will not refuse me their protection." "master raimbaud, do the papist court jays, with the feathers of peacocks and the talons of vultures, owe you any money?" "indeed, they owe me large sums." "they will burn you to cancel their debts. make no doubt of that." "god's head! you may be telling the truth, josephin! i must consider that." "well, then, return secretly to paris; remain in hiding a few days, gather all your valuables--and flee to la rochelle. place yourself beyond the reach of the tigers' claws. it is the best thing you can do." "but what of the poor lad--odelin?" "my nephew and myself will accompany you to la rochelle. i scent battle and carnage in that quarter. when i say 'battle' i see things red. here is to the red! i love wine--i shall drink blood! oh, blood! you shall flow streaming and warm from the breast of the papists, like wine from the bung-hole of a cask. by my sister's death! oh, for the day when i shall avenge bridget--hena--my two poor martyrs!" after a moment's silent reflection the armorer blurted out: "my head reels under so many afflictions. i forgot to ask you where is christian's daughter, hena?" "she is a prisoner at the chatelet. her trial is on," and burying his face in his hands the soldier of adventure added in heartrending tones: "she will be pronounced guilty, sentenced, and brought to the stake--burned alive as a relapsed nun." "great god, is such barbarity possible?" "hena!" josephin proceeded without answering master raimbaud, "you sweet and dear creature! image of my sister! poor child whom, when a baby, i rocked upon my knees--you shall be avenged--" the franc-taupin could not utter another word; he broke down into sobs. "unhappy christian!" exclaimed master raimbaud pitifully. "what must not have been his agony!" "we had to fabricate a tale before we could induce him to depart," answered the franc-taupin, wiping his burning eye with the back of his hand. "monsieur estienne assured christian that the princess had obtained grace for hena's life, but under the condition that she was to spend her existence in some convent far away from paris. christian then decided to flee and preserve himself for his only remaining child, odelin. he is now safe at la rochelle." "and hervé? you have not mentioned him." "by my sister's death! do not mention the name of that monster. i could strangle him with my own hands, child of bridget's though he be. he has joined the cordelier monks. he has already preached in their church upon the necessity of exterminating the heretics. the queen was present on the occasion. they extol the eloquence of the young monk. death and damnation!" shivering with horror and disgust, the franc-taupin proceeded after a pause: "never again mention the monster's name in my hearing! may hell swallow him up!" uninformed upon the events that led to hervé's taking orders, the armorer was no less stupefied at the news of the young man's having become a monk than at hearing josephin give vent to his execration of his sister's son. nevertheless, unwilling to aggravate the sorrow of the franc-taupin, he refrained from dwelling upon a subject that so greatly inflamed him. "the tidings you have brought me have so upset me that it did not yet occur to me to ask you the reason for your assuming the garb you wear--" "the reason is quite simple," josephin broke in; "i was described to the spies of the criminal lieutenant; and probably informed against by the two bandits who helped me in the abduction of my niece from the convent. my size and the plaster over my eye make me an easy mark for capture. i took the robe of a capuchin mendicant because it best enables me to conceal my face. these friars have no convent of their own in the city. a few of them straggle into paris from time to time from their hives at chartres or bourges, to pick up crumbs. if any one of them, coming from chartres, addresses me, i would say: 'i am from bourges.' to those from bourges i shall say: 'i am from chartres.' i have been established in this tavern for the last three days. i told the inn-keeper that i expected a stranger upon business of my order. i pay for my lodging regularly every morning. the inn-keeper has not manifested any curiosity about me. thus, in short, runs the explanation of my disguise. for your own guidance, master raimbaud, i shall add that the exasperation of the catholics against the reformers is just now at white heat. they even talk of slaughtering the huguenots in mass." "what are these threats, this increased hatred, attributed to?" "to certain printed placards clandestinely posted on the walls of paris by the activity of christian's friend justin. the placards scourge the priests, the monks and all other papists. a large number of heretics have already been arrested and sentenced to the stake; others have been massacred by the brutified populace--that _huge she-greyhound, with bloody craw_, as the monks say when they refer to the poor and ignorant masses. you may judge from that what dangers you would run in paris, were you to attempt to enter the city openly, you who are pointed at as a heretic. my nephew odelin runs the same danger. they are ready to seize him the moment he steps into your house." "what! they want to arrest a child?" "children become men with time--and they fear men. i should have stabbed you to death, ignatius loyola, when i was your page! it is you who order the father and mother to be burned as heretics, and the three children to be clapped into cloisters to the end of uprooting a stock that you pronounce accursed! but the father has escaped death, and i shall know how to thwart your search after his last child! after that--battle and carnage! by my sister's death--i shall cause the blood of papists to run like water. time presses--let us make haste. you can not return home, master raimbaud, any more than my nephew could safely step into your house. this is the plan i submitted to monsieur robert estienne, and which he approves: i have provided myself with a second capuchin frock for odelin. he and i will go to paris, our bags on our backs, without awakening suspicion. we shall turn in at a friend's on st. honoré street, where monsieur estienne will call to see us. it is a safe place. monsieur estienne has taken upon himself the painful task of informing odelin concerning the misfortunes that have smitten his family. to-morrow evening we leave paris again in our disguise, and i shall take my nephew to his father at la rochelle. should you also decide to change your residence, and to move to la rochelle with your wife, we may agree upon some town near paris in which odelin and myself could join you. this is for you to consider and decide." "your plan seems wise to me, josephin; i shall probably decide to follow it. from what is happening in paris, i perceive i would not be safe there." "well, then, master raimbaud, leave the horses behind in the tavern. one of your employees may come to-morrow for them. do not enter paris until after dark and keep your head well hooded. proceed straight to the house that your wife mentions to you--" the franc-taupin was interrupted in the directions he was issuing by the entrance of his nephew, holding in one hand a flask wrapped in fine paper, and in the other a steel dagger. he held out the two objects with a radiant face to josephin, saying with exquisite kindness: "dear uncle, i forged this dagger for you out of the best steel there was in milan; i bring you this flask of old imola wine for you to celebrate this happy day and to drink to the speedy reunion of our family." so poignant was the contrast between the lad's words and the sad reality of which he still remained in ignorance, that master raimbaud and the franc-taupin exchanged sad glances and remained silent. josephin's cowl, now resting wholly upon his shoulders, left his face entirely exposed. so visible were the traces of sorrow and mental suffering that face revealed, that odelin, now seeing his uncle for the first time wholly uncovered, drew back a step. immediately he also noticed the profound sadness of master raimbaud. alarmed at the silence of the two, odelin felt oppressed. he felt a vague presentiment of some great misfortune. touched by the token of his nephew's affection, the franc-taupin took the flask and the dagger, examined the weapon, placed it in his belt under his frock, and muttered to himself: "ah, a good blade. you are given to me by the son--you shall wreak vengeance for the mother, the father--and their daughter!" he then placed the flask down beside him, and embracing odelin, added aloud: "thank you, my dear boy. the dagger will be useful to me. as to the flask--tastes change--i drink wine no more. now to business. i have a note for you from your father. post yourself upon its contents." "but am i not to see father shortly, at home?" not a little astonished, odelin read: my dearly beloved odelin.--do everything your uncle josephin may tell you, without asking any questions. do not feel alarmed. i shall soon embrace you. i love you as ever, from the bottom of my heart. your father, christian. despite his vague and increasing uneasiness, odelin felt quieted by those words of his father's: "i shall soon embrace you." he said to the franc-taupin: "what must i do, uncle?" the soldier of fortune took a bundle from his bed, drew out of it a capuchin's robe, and said to his nephew: "the first thing to do, my boy, is to put this robe over your clothes, and when we are out of doors you will take care to keep the cowl over your face, as i am doing now." "i?" asked odelin, startled. "am i to put on such a costume?" but recalling the instructions of his father, he added: "i forgot that father wrote me to obey you, uncle, without asking any reasons for your orders. i shall put on the robe, immediately." "fine," said master raimbaud, forcing a smile on his lips in order to quiet odelin. "there you are, from an armorer's apprentice transformed into a capuchin's apprentice! the change does not seem to be to your taste, my little friend." "it is my father's will, master raimbaud. i but obey. truth to say, however, i do not fancy a monk's garb." "i am a better papist than yourself, little odelin," put in the franc-taupin ironically, as he helped his nephew to don his disguise; "i love the monks so well that i hope soon to start bestowing upon every one of them whom i may meet--the red skullcap of a cardinal! now, shoulder that wallet and bend your back; and then with a dragging leg, and neck stuck out, we shall imitate as well as we can the gait of that roman catholic and apostolic vermin." "how comical i shall look to mother and to my sister hena when they see me arrive thus accoutred!" observed odelin with a smile. "dear uncle, if father is the only one informed of my disguise, i shall knock at the door of our house, and beg for an alms with a nasal twang. just think of their surprise when i throw up my cowl! _corpo di bacco!_ as the italians say, we shall laugh till the tears run down our cheeks." "your idea is not bad," answered the franc-taupin, embarrassed. "but it is getting late. bid master raimbaud good-bye, and let us depart." "is master raimbaud to stay here?" "yes, my boy--" "who is to see to the horses?" "do not trouble yourself about that; they will have their provender." the armorer embraced his apprentice, whom he loved almost as an own son and bade him be of good cheer. "your adieu sounds sad, master raimbaud, and as if our separation were to be a long one," observed odelin with moistening eyes. "uncle! oh, uncle! my alarm returns, it grows upon me. i can not account for the sadness of master raimbaud, and i do not understand the mystery of this disguise to enter paris--" "my dear boy, remember your father's instructions," said josephin. "put me no questions to which i can not now make an answer." the boy resigned himself with a sigh. shouldering his wallet, he descended after his uncle. as the latter heard the clink of odelin's spurs on the stairs, he turned to him: "i forgot to make you take off your spurs. remove them while i go and pay the inn-keeper. wait for me outside at the cross road." "uncle, may i put into my wallet a few little presents that i bring from italy for the family?" "do about that as you please," answered the franc-taupin. while odelin walked into the stable to remove his spurs and take out of his valise the articles which he wished to take with him, josephin went to settle his score with the inn-keeper. the latter, who hugged his taproom, did not see young odelin come down in his capuchin vestments. to the franc-taupin he said: "you leave us early, my reverend. i hoped you would pay us a longer visit. but i can understand that you are in a hurry to reach paris to witness the great ceremony." "what ceremony have you in mind, my good man?" "a traveler informed us that the bells and the chimes have been ringing in paris with might and main since morning. all the houses along the road that the superb procession is to traverse were decorated with tapestry by orders of the criminal lieutenant, who also ordered that a lighted wax candle be held at every window. he also told us that the king, the queen and all the princes, as well as a crowd of great seigneurs and high dignitaries were to assist at the ceremony--the most magnificent that will yet have been seen--" "good evening, my host," said josephin, anxious to put an end to the conversation and join his nephew who waited for him outside. to himself he was saying: "what can the ceremony be that the inn-keeper has been informed about? after all, the event can only be favorable to us. the crowds that the streets will be filled with will facilitate our passage, and help us to reach unperceived the retreat designated by monsieur estienne." the franc-taupin and his nephew walked rapidly towards paris where they arrived as the sun was dipping the western horizon. chapter xx. january , . january , ! alas, that date must remain inscribed in characters of blood in our plebeian annals, o, sons of joel! if there is justice on earth or in heaven--and i, christian lebrenn, who trace these lines, believe in an avenging, an expiatory justice--some day, on that distant day predicted by victoria the great, the st of january may be also a day fatal to the race of crowned executioners, the princes, the nobles, and the infamous romish priests. you are about to contemplate, o, sons of joel--you are about to contemplate the pious work of that king francis i, that chivalrous king, that very christian king, as the court popinjays love to style him. a chivalrous king--he is false to his troth! a knightly king--he sells under the auctioneer's hammer the seats on the courts of justice and in the tribunals of religion! a very christian king--he wallows in the filthiest of debauches! in order to impart a flavor of incest to adultery, he shares with one of his own sons, the husband of catherine de medici, the bed of the duchess of etampes. finally, he expires tainted with a loathsome disease after ten years of frightful sufferings! at this season, however, the miscreant is still in full health, and is engaged in honoring god, his saints and his church with a human holocaust. hypocrisy and ferocity! a magnificent solemnity was that day to be the object of edification to all the good catholics of paris, as the inn-keeper announced to the franc-taupin. read, o sons of joel, the ordinance posted in paris by order of the very christian king francis i: on thursday the st day of january, , a solemn procession will take place in the honor of god our creater, of the glorious virgin mary, and of all the blessed saints in paradise. our seigneur, king francis i, has been informed of the errors that are rife in these days, and of the placards and heretical books that are posted or scattered around the streets and thoroughfares of paris by the vicious sectarians of luther, and other blasphemers of the sacred sacrament of the altar, the which accursed scum of society aims at the destruction of our catholic faith and of the constitutions of our mother, the holy church of god. therefore, our said seigneur francis i has held a council, and, in order to repair the injury done to god, has decided to order a general procession, the same to close with the torture and execution of several heretics. at the head of the procession shall be carried the sacred eucharist and the most precious relics of the city of paris. first, on the th day of the said month of january, proclamation shall be made to the sound of trumpets, throughout the thoroughfares of paris, ordering that the streets through which the said procession is to pass shall be swept clean, and all the houses ornamented with beautiful tapestry. the owners of the said houses shall stand before their doors, bare-headed and holding a lighted taper in their hands.--_item_, on the wednesday following, the th of the said month, the principals of all the universities of paris shall meet and orders shall be issued to them to cause the students of the said colleges to be locked up, with the express injunction that the same shall not be allowed outside until the procession shall have passed, in order to obviate confusion and tumult. furthermore the students shall fast on the eve and the day of the procession.--_item_, provosts of the merchant guilds and the aldermen of the city of paris shall cause barriers to be raised at the crossing of the streets through which the said procession is to pass, in order to prevent the people from crossing the lines of the marchers. two soldiers and two archers shall be placed in charge of each one of the said barriers.--_item._ halting places shall be erected in the middle of st. denis and st. honoré streets, at the cross-of-trahoir, and at the further end of the notre dame bridge, the latter of which shall be decorated with a gilded lanthorn, historical paintings of the holy sacrament, and a dais of evergreen from which shall hang a number of crowns, and bannerets bearing the following sacred device: ipsi peribunt, tu autem permanebis (_they shall perish, but you, holy mother church, shall remain forever_). the same device shall be inscribed on the cards attached to the swarm of little birds that are to be set free along the passage of the said procession.[ ] the program of the ceremony was followed out point by point. the franc-taupin and odelin entered paris by the gate of the bastille of st. antoine. they were wrapped in their capuchin hoods, and took the route of st. honoré street. that thoroughfare was lighted by the tapers which, obedient to the royal decree, the householders held at the doors of their dwellings. lavish tapestries, hangings and rich cloths ornamented with greens carpeted the walls of the houses from top to bottom. men, women and children crowded the windows. a lively stream of people moved about gaily, loudly admiring the splendors of the feast. arrived near the arcade of eschappes, which ran into st. honoré street, the franc-taupin and odelin were forced to halt until the procession had passed before they could cross the street. all the crossings were closed with barriers and guarded by soldiers and archers. thanks to the respect that their monastic garb inspired, josephin and his nephew were allowed to clear the barrier which separated them from the first ranks of the procession, and finally to fall in line with the same. romish idolatry and royal pride exhibited themselves in the midst of the pomp and circumstance of the occasion. king, queen, princes, princesses, cardinals, archbishops, marshals, courtiers, ladies in waiting, high dignitaries of the courts of justice, magistrates, consuls, bourgeois, guilds of artisans--all were about to batten upon the torture and death of the heretics, whose only crime consisted in the practice of the evangelical doctrine in its pristine purity. read, o, sons of joel, the narrative of this execrable ceremony, transmitted by a spectator, an ardent catholic and fervent royalist, dom felibien. preserve the pages in our family annals, they are the irrefutable witnesses of the religious fanaticism of those days of ignorance, under clerical domination and monarchic despotism. dom felibien says: "at the head of the procession marched the swiss of the king's guard. they preceded the queen, who was richly attired in a robe of black velvet lined with lynx skin. she rode a white palfrey with housings of frizzled gold cloth, and was accompanied by mesdames the king's daughters, likewise richly accoutred in robes of crimson satin embroidered with gold thread, and riding beautiful and splendidly caparisoned palfreys. many other dames and princesses, besides a troop of knights, seneschals and palace dignitaries on horseback, pages, lackeys and swiss guards on foot marched beside the queen. "after her came the cordelier monks in large numbers, carrying many relics, each holding a little lighted taper with profound devotion. "after these came the preaching jacobin friars, also carrying many relics. each bore a chaplet of notre dame, and all were devoutly engaged in prayer to god. "after these, the augustinian monks, marching in similar order, and also carrying many relics. "after these, the carmelites, in the same order, and, in their wake all the parish priests of the city of paris, each with his cross, robed in their capes, and carrying relics surrounded with numerous tapers. "after these, the collegiates of the churches, carrying many relics and holy bodies, the latter surrounded by many tapers. "after these, the mathurins, dressed all in white. they marched devoutly wrapped in prayer and holding tapers. "after these, the friars of st. magloire carrying the shrine of monsieur st. magloire. "after these, the friars of st. germain-des-prez, carrying the shrine of monsieur st. germain-le-vieil, who, as far back as man's memory went, had never before been known to leave the precincts of st. germain. to the right of the holy body, the said friars, each with a lighted white wax candle; to the left, the friars of st. martin-of-the-fields, carrying the shrine of st. paxant, a martyr. the two shrines abreast and beside each other. "after these the relics of monsieur st. eloi in the shrine of the said saint, carried by locksmiths, each wearing a hat of flowers. "after these, monsieur st. benoit, with other shrines containing the bodies of saints belonging to the said city. "after that, a huge relic of solid gold and inestimable value, studded with precious stones and enclosing the bones of several saints, the whole carried on the shoulders of sixteen bourgeois of the city of paris. beside this relic was to be seen that of the great st. philip, an exquisite coffer from notre dame of paris. "after these, came in beautiful order the shrines of madam st. genevieve, carried by eighteen men, naked (except for their shirts), with hats of flowers on their heads, and by four monks, also in their shirts, with bare legs and feet. then the shrine of monsieur st. martel, reverently carried by the goldsmiths, dressed in dress of state. that shrine also had not in the memory of man been carried beyond the bridge of notre dame. in order to secure the safe and orderly carriage of these shrines through the large concourse of people, all of whom were curious to see and draw near them, a number of archers and other officers were detailed to escort the same. "after these, the monks of st. genevieve and st. victor, barefooted, each holding a lighted taper and praying to god with great devotion. "after these, the canons and priests of st. germain-of-auxerre, chanting canticles of praise put to music. "after these, the secular doctors and regulars of the four faculties of the university of paris. the rector and his beadles, the latter carrying before him their maces of gold and silver. "after these, the doctors of theology and medicine in large numbers dressed in their sacerdotal and other garbs, each holding a lighted wax candle. "after these came, marching in beautiful order on both sides of the street, the swiss guards of the king, dressed in the velvet of his livery, each armed with his halberd. the fifers and war drummers marched two by two at the head of the said swiss guards, beating upon their drums and blowing their fifes in funeral notes. "after these, the hautboys, trumpets, cornet and clarion players, all in the king's livery, and melodiously intoning the beautiful hymn _pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium_, etc., which is the hymn of the holy sacrament, and which moved all the bystanders to tears, such was its power. "after these, monsieur savigny, one of the captains of the king's guards, establishing order and preventing tumult during the procession. "after him, came the king's heralds-at-arms, clad in their jackets of silver cloth. "after them, the choristers of the same seigneur, those attached to the domestic service as well as those attached to the holy chapel of the palace. they marched together, singing: _o salutaris hostia_, and other beautiful anthems. "after these, ten priests robed in chasubles, their heads bare, and carrying the relic of monsieur st. louis, once king of france, encased and studded with quantities of precious stones of inestimable value. "after these, the holy and precious relic of the holy crown of thorns of our lord and savior jesus christ, an inestimable relic which, as far back as the memory of man runs, was never before carried in any procession whatever, and caused the hair to stand on end of all those who saw it, and rendered them charmed with god, as they considered his blessed passion. "after this, the true cross on which our lord jesus christ was crucified. it was taken from the holy chapel, besides another piece of the said true cross from notre dame of paris. "after that the rod of aaron, an old relic; the holy iron of the lance wherewith longus pierced the precious side of our savior jesus christ; one of the holy nails with which he was nailed to the cross; the sponge, the carcan, the chain with which our lord was fastened to the pillar; his immaculate robe; the sheet in which he was wrapped in the tomb as in a winding-cloth; the napkins of his babyhood; the reed stuck into his hand when he was crowned with thorns; the table of stone which the children of israel hewed in the desert; a drop of the precious blood of our lord jesus; finally a drop of milk of the glorious virgin mary, mother of god. the which beautiful relics, all taken from the treasury of the holy chapel, were accompanied and carried by ten archbishops and bishops dressed in their pontifical vestments, and marching two by two. "after these, the ambassadors from the emperor, from the king of england, from venice, and other potentates and seigneurs. "after these, and marching abreast, the cardinals of tournon, veneur and givry; the bishop of soissons; and monsieur gabriel of saluces, carrying a beautiful relic of a cross studded with several precious stones. "after these, knights with their battle-axes escorting the precious and sacred body of our lord jesus christ at the sacrament of the altar, which was carried by monsieur the bishop of paris on a cross under a canopy of crimson velvet spangled with gold fleur-de-lis, the canopy being borne aloft by our seigneurs, the king's sons, to wit, monsieur the dauphin, monsieur of orleans, monsieur of angoulème, and monsieur of vendosme, all the said princes bareheaded, and clad in robes of black velvet with heavy gold borders and lined with white satin, and near them several counts and barons to relieve them. "after these, came the king our sire, bareheaded, in great reverence. he was clad in a robe of black velvet lined with black silk, girded with a girdle of taffeta, and in his hand a large white wax candle furnished with a holder of crimson velvet. beside him, the cardinal of lorraine, to whom, every time the holy sacrament rested at the halting places, the said seigneur our king passed the wax candle, while he himself made his prayers with his hands joined. seeing the which, there was none among the spectators, whether grown or little, who did not weep warm tears, and who did not pray to god for the king whom the said people saw in such great devotion, and performing so devout an act and so worthy of remembrance for all time. and it may well be presumed that neither jew nor infidel present, seeing the example of the king and his good people, failed of being converted to the catholic faith. "after these, the parliaments, with the ushers walking before, each with a staff in his hands; the four notaries; the clerks of the criminal courts, dressed in scarlet gowns and wearing their furred hats; messieurs the presidents with their mantles over their shoulders and their mortars on their heads; the chiefs of departments, and the counsellors, in red robes. "after these, the chief justices, and heads of the treasury and the mint; the comptrollers of the city of paris, each with a lighted white wax candle in his hand, and clad in their parti-colored robes of red and blue, the city colors. "finally, the archers, the cross-bowmen, and the arquebusiers of paris, dressed in their uniforms, and each holding a wax candle."[ ] such was that great catholic procession! the procession wound its way through st. honoré, st. denis and st. james-of-the-slaughterhouse streets, and then crossed the notre dame bridge. cages full of birds were opened, and the little feathered brood flew from their prisons with open wings. the procession deployed on the square before the parvise of the cathedral of notre dame. all the surrounding houses, tapestried from top to bottom, were lined with spectators at the windows, on the cornices, the shafts of pillars and the roofs. as they stood waiting for the procession to go by near the arcade of eschappes, the franc-taupin and his nephew caught sight of hervé among the cordelier monks, whose garb he wore. "my brother!" cried odelin, making to rush forward towards hervé and embrace him. "there is my brother!" but josephin seized his nephew by the arm, and whispered to him: "my boy, if a single move made by you draws attention upon us, we shall be discovered and arrested." odelin's exclamation, being drowned by the psalmody of the cordeliers, did not reach the ears of hervé. the latter did not even notice his brother, whose face was partially covered by his cowl. the cordeliers passed by, then the augustinians, the carmelites, the dominicans, the genevievians, the jacobins, and many other monks of differently shaped and colored garbs. josephin sought to place the greatest distance possible between himself and hervé. he fell in line with the mathurins, who brought up the rear of the division of monks. odelin began to feel disturbed in mind. the events in which he had already that day participated, his apprehensions regarding his family, the sight of his brother in the habits of a cordelier monk, the preparations for the torture and death of the heretics, a spectacle that he now saw himself forced to witness--everything combined to harass his mind with perplexities. at times odelin imagined himself under the obsession of a nightmare. his uncertain and almost stumbling step was noticed by the superior of the mathurins, who expressed his surprise thereat to josephin. the franc-taupin merely answered that this was the first time the novice attended an execution of heretics. the procession having arrived before the parvise of notre dame, each division of which it was composed took the place assigned to it. a stage, covered with rich tent-cloth was prepared for king francis i, the queen, the princes and princesses of the royal family, the court ladies, the cardinals, the archbishops, the marshals, the presidents of the parliaments, and the principal courtiers. the pyre faced the royal platform at a convenient distance, in order that the noble assemblage be annoyed neither by the heat nor smoke of the fire, and yet could follow closely the cruel details of the tragedy. the pyre consisted of a heap of fagots from fifteen to twenty feet long, and about six or seven feet high. close to the pyre rose six machines. each consisted of a perpendicular beam, the bottom driven into the earth and the top furnished with an iron clamp in the socket of which a cross-beam was attached. this beam could be made to tip forward over the fagots. at the forward extremity of the cross-beam, and hanging from chains, was an iron chair provided with a back and foot-board after the fashion of a swing. to the rear extremity of the cross-beam ropes and pulleys were attached, holding it down to the ground. the franc-taupin contemplated with horror those implements of torture, while he gave his support to poor odelin, who shook convulsively. the superior of the mathurins, who happened to stand near josephin, addressed him with a smile: "perhaps you do not understand the value of those machines which we shall shortly see put into operation?" "no, dear brother, you are right. i have no idea of what those machines are for in this affair." "they are an invention due to the genius of our sire the king, to whom the men put to the torture for coining false money already owe the rack on which they are executed.[ ] to-day the application of these new machines, which you are contemplating with so much interest, is inaugurated in our good city of paris. the process is very simple, besides ingenious. when the pyre is well aflame, the patient is chained fast to the chair which you see there, dangling from the end of that cross-beam; then, the beam acting as a lever, he is, by slacking and pulling in the ropes at the other end, alternately sunk down into the flames and pulled out again, to be re-plunged, and so on, until, after being plunged and re-plunged, death ensues. do you now understand the process?" "clearly, my reverend. death by fire, as formerly practiced, put too speedy an end to the patient's torture." "altogether too speedy. a few minutes of torture and all was over, and the heretic breathed his last breath--" "and now," broke in the franc-taupin, "thanks to this royal invention by our sire francis i, whom may god guard, the patient is afforded leisure to burn slowly--he can relish the fagot and inhale the flame! how superb and meritorious an invention!" "it is that, my dear brother! your expressions are correct--quite so--_relish_ the fagot--_inhale_ the flame. it is calculated that the agony of the patients will now last from twenty to thirty minutes. "there are to-night three such pyres raised in paris," the superior of the mathurins proceeded to explain. "the one before us, a second at the market place, and the third at the cross-of-trahoir. after our good sire shall have assisted at the executions in this place, he will be able to visit the two others on his way back to the louvre."[ ] the colloquy with the monk was interrupted by a great noise. from mouth to mouth ran the word: "silence! silence! the king wishes to speak!" during the franc-taupin's conversation with the mathurin, the king, his family, the court, the high dignitaries of the church and of the kingdom had taken their seats on the platform. anne of pisseleu, duchess of etampes, who shared her favors between francis i and his eldest son, drew the eyes of the multitude upon herself with the costliness of her apparel, which was as dazzling as her beauty, then at its prime. the royal courtesan cast from time to time a look of superb triumph upon her two rivals--the queen of france, and catherine de medici, the wife of henry, the king's son. the young princess, at that season barely sixteen years of age, born in florence, the daughter of laurent de medici and niece of pope clement vii, presented a perfect type of italian beauty. pale with chestnut hair, and white of skin, her black, passionate and crafty eyes frequently lingered surreptitiously with an expression of suppressed hatred upon the duchess of etampes. whenever their eyes met accidentally, catherine de medici had for her a charming smile. conspicuous among the great seigneurs seated on the platform were the constable of montmorency, duke claude of guise and his brother cardinal john of lorraine, the crapulous, dissolute prince immortalized by rabelais under the name of "panurge." these guises--princes of lorraine, ambitious, greedy, haughty and turbulent--whom francis i at once flattered and curbed, inspired him with so much apprehension that he was wont to allude to them in his conversations with the dauphin in these words: "be on your guard; i shall leave you clothed in a coat, they will leave you in your shirt." in close proximity to the guises stood john lefevre, the disciple of ignatius loyola, chatting with great familiarity with cardinal duprat. already the jesuits had gained a footing at the court of francis i; they dominated the chancellor, the evil genius of that king. and what was that sovereign, physically and morally? here is his picture, as left by the writers of his time: "six feet high; broad-shouldered, wide of girth, round faced, fat, ruddy of complexion, with short cropped hair, long beard, and a prominent nose"--features that betray sensual appetites. the sire walked towards his throne, swaying to right and left. the heavy colossus affected the gait and postures of a gladiator. he sat down, or rather dropped into his seat. all present on the platform rose to their feet with heads uncovered, the women excepted. he addressed himself to the princes, the princesses of his family, and the dignitaries of the church and the kingdom: "it will not seem strange to you, messieurs, if you do not find in me the mien, the countenance and the words, which i have been in the habit of being seen in and of using on previous occasions when i called you together. to-day, i do not address you as a king and master addresses his subjects and servitors. i speak as being myself the subject and servitor of the king of kings, of the master of masters--the all-powerful god. "some wicked blasphemers, people of little note and of less doctrine, have, contrary to the honor of the holy sacrament, machinated, said, proffered and written many great blasphemies. on account thereof i have willed that this solemn procession be held, in order to invoke the grace of our redeemer. i order that rigorous punishment be inflicted upon the heretics, as a warning to all others not to fall into the said damnable opinions, while admonishing the faithful to persevere in their doctrines, the wavering to become firm, and those who have strayed away to return to the path of the holy catholic faith, in which they see me persevere, together with the spiritual prelates. "therefore, messieurs, i entreat and admonish you--let all my subjects keep watch and guard, not only over themselves, but also over their families, and especially over their children, and cause these to be so properly instructed that they may not fall into evil doctrines. i also order that each and all shall denounce whomsoever they may happen to know, or to suspect, of being adherents to the heresy, without regard to any bonds, whether of family or of friendship. as to myself," added francis i in a thundering voice, "on the same principle that, had i an arm infected with putrefaction, i would cause it to be separated from my body, so if ever, should it unhappily so befall, any child of mine relapse into the said damnable heresies, i shall be ready to immolate, and to deliver him as a sacrifice to god."[ ] the discourse of francis i was listened to amid religious silence, and applauded enthusiastically. the prostituted pack of clergymen, courtiers and warriors who surrounded the very christian king knew the trick how to inherit the property of heretics. to burn or massacre the reformers was to coin money for the royal pack, the sovereign having the right to transmit to the good catholics the wealth confiscated from condemned heretics. but, to kill the heretics, to torture them, to burn them alive, that did not satisfy the pious monarch. human thought was to be shackled. the sovereign proceeded with his allocution: "it is notorious that the pestilence of heresy spreads in all directions with the aid of the printing press. my chancellor shall now read a decree issued by me abolishing the printing press in my estates under pain of death." the chancellor, cardinal duprat, read in a loud voice the decree of that _father of letters_, as the court popinjays styled francis i with egregious adulation: "we, francis i, by the grace of god, king of france.--it is our will, and we so order, and it pleases us to prohibit and forbid all printers in general, and of whatever rank and condition they may be, to print anything, under pain of hanging. "such is our good pleasure. francis."[ ] come! one more effort; listen to the end of this tale, o, sons of joel. my hand trembles as i trace these lines, my eyes are veiled in tears, my heart bleeds. but i must proceed with my story. after the reading of the edict which prohibited the printing press in france under pain of death, the criminal lieutenant stepped forward to receive the orders of the chancellor. he turned to the king, and the king commanded that the heretics be put to the torture and death without further delay. the gallant chat among the courtiers was hushed, and the eyes of the royal assembly turned towards the pyre. the franc-taupin and odelin stood in the midst of the mathurins, close to the spot of execution. not far from them were ranked the cordeliers. standing between fra girard and the superior general of his order, hervé seemed to be the object of the dignitary's special solicitude. both the sons of christian lebrenn were about to witness the execution. their sister hena, sentenced together with ernest rennepont to the flames as a relapsed and sacrilegious heretic, was to figure, along with her bridegroom, among the victims. the frightful spectacle passed before the eyes of odelin like a vision of death. without making a single motion, without experiencing a shiver, without dropping a tear, petrified with terror, the lad gazed--like him, who, a prey to some stupefying dream, remains motionless, stretched upon his bed. it was a horrible nightmare! the order to proceed having gone from francis i and been transmitted to the mathurin monks, several of these proceeded to the portico of the basilica of notre dame, whither the culprits had first been taken to make the _amende honorable_ on their knees before the church. one of the patients had his tongue cut out for preferring charges against the catholic clergy on his way from prison to the parvise.[ ] the mathurins led the victims in procession to the pyre. as they approached, all the religious orders intoned in a sonorous voice the funeral psalmody-- _de profundis clamavi ad te, domine!_ the heretics, to the number of six, marched two by two, bareheaded and barefooted, holding lighted tapers in their hands. john dubourg and his friend etienne laforge led; behind them came st. ernest-martyr supporting the architect poille. the wretched man had his tongue cut out. blood streamed from his mouth, and dyed his long white shirt red. mary la catelle and hena, called in religion sister st. frances-in-the-tomb, came next. their feet were bare, their hair hung down loose upon their shoulders. they were clad in long white shifts held at the waist with a cord. hena pressed against her heart a little pocket bible which christian had printed in the establishment of robert estienne, and which she was allowed to keep. it was a cherished volume from which the lebrenn family often read together of an evening, and which recalled to hena a whole world of sweet remembrances. hervé recognized his sister among the condemned heretics. a thrill ran through his frame, a deadly pallor overcast his countenance, and, turning his face away, he leaned for support on the arm of fra girard. the executioners had set fire to the fagots, which soon presented the sight of a sheet of roaring flames. as the prisoners arrived at the place of their torture and death, and caught sight of the seats swaying over the lambent flames, they readily surmised the cruel torments to which they were destined. in her terror, poor hena began to emit heartrending cries, and she clung to the arm of mary la catelle. the taper and the little pocket bible which she held rolled to the ground. the holy book fell upon a burning ember and began to blaze. one of the executioners stamped out the fire with his heels and threw the book aside. it fell near the franc-taupin. josephin stooped down quickly, picked up the precious token and dropped it into the pocket of his wide frock. petrified with terror, odelin only gazed into space. the frightful cries of his sister were hardly heard by him, drowned as they were by the buzz and throb of the arteries in his own temples. the executioners were at work. hena and the other five martyrs were seized, placed in their respective seats, and chained fast. all the six levers were then set in motion at once, and dipped over the fire. it was a spectacle, an atrocious spectacle--well worthy of a king! the victims were plunged into the furnace, then raised up high in the air with clothes and hair ablaze, to be again swallowed up in the flaming abyss, again to be raised out of it, in order once more to be precipitated into its fiery embrace![ ] odelin still gazed, motionless, his arms crossed over his breast, and rigid as if in a state of catalepsy. the franc-taupin looked at his unhappy niece hena every time the lever raised her in the air, and also every time it hurled her down into the abyss of flames. he counted the _plungings_, as the superior of the mathurins humorously called them. he counted twenty-five of them. at the first few descents poor hena twisted and writhed in her seat while emitting piercing cries; in the course of a few subsequent descents the cries subsided into moans; when she disappeared in the burning crater for the sixteenth time she was heard to moan no more. she was either expiring or dead. the machine continued to dip twenty-five times--it was only a blackened, half naked corpse, the head of which hung loose and beat against the back of the seat. the franc-taupin followed also with his eyes ernest rennepont, who was placed face to face with hena. the unhappy youth did not emit a single cry during his torment, he did not even utter a wail. his eyes remained fixed upon his bride. etienne laforge, john dubourg and mary la catelle gave proof of the sublimest courage. they were heard singing psalms amidst the flames that devoured them. of these latter, only anthony poille, whose tongue had been cut out, was silent. the death rattle finally silenced the voice of the heretics. it was but charred corpses that the executioners were raising and dropping. when the frightful vision ceased, odelin dropped to the ground, a prey to violent convulsions. two monks helped the franc-taupin carry the young novice into a neighboring house. but before leaving the spot of hena's torture and death, josephin stopped an instant before the brazier which was finishing the work of consuming the corpses. there the franc-taupin pronounced the following silent imprecation: "hate and execration for the papist executioners, kings, priests and monks! war, implacable war upon this infamous religion that tortures and burns to death those who are refractory to its creed! reprisals and vengeance! by my sister's death; by the agony of her daughter, plunged twenty-five times into the fiery furnace--i swear to put twenty-five papist priests to death!" after odelin recovered consciousness, uncle and nephew resumed their way to the place of refuge on st. honoré street, where robert estienne was found waiting for them. the generous friend was proscribed. the next day he was to wander into exile to geneva. it was with great difficulty that princess marguerite had obtained grace for his life. he informed odelin of his father's flight to la rochelle and of bridget's death. he pressed upon josephin the necessity of leaving paris with odelin and proceeding on the spot to la rochelle, lest he fall into the clutches of the police spies who were on the search for them. at the same time he placed in josephin's hands the necessary funds for the journey, and took charge of notifying master raimbaud should he also be willing to take refuge in la rochelle. it was agreed between the three that the franc-taupin and his nephew would wait two days for master raimbaud at etampes. the directions of robert estienne were instantly put into execution. that same night odelin and josephin left paris, and reached etampes without difficulty, thanks to the monastic garb which cleared the way for them. at etampes master raimbaud and his wife joined them before the expiration of the second day, and the four immediately took the road to la rochelle, where they arrived on february , . the four fugitives inquired for the dwelling of christian lebrenn. his family, alas! was now reduced to three members--father, son and the brave josephin. the franc-taupin delivered to his brother-in-law the pocket bible which he picked up near the pyre, the tomb of hena--that bible is now added to the relics of the lebrenn family. end of volume one. part ii. the huguenots. introduction. thirty-four years have elapsed since the martyrdom of hena lebrenn, ernest rennepont and the other heretics who were burned alive before the parvise of notre dame, in the presence of king francis i and his court on january , . to-day, i, antonicq lebrenn, son of odelin and grandson of christian the printer, proceed with the narrative broken off above. safely established at la rochelle, christian was joined in that city by his son odelin and josephin, the franc-taupin. already shattered in body on account of the profound sorrow caused by the death of his wife bridget and the revelation concerning the incestuous attempt made by his son hervé, the news of the frightful death of his daughter hena overwhelmed my grandfather. he did not long survive that last blow. he languished about a year longer, wrote the narrative of which the following one is the sequel, and died on december of the same year at la rochelle, where he exercised his printer's trade at the establishment of master auger, a friend of robert estienne. the latter himself ended his days in exile at geneva. odelin lebrenn, my father, devoted himself, as in his youth, to the armorer's trade. he worked in the establishment of master raimbaud, who also settled down in la rochelle in . the old armorer drove a lucrative trade in his beautiful arms, with england. thanks to their energy and their municipal franchises, the rochelois, partisans of the reformation by an overwhelming majority, and protected by the well-nigh impregnable position of their city, experienced but slightly the persecutions that dyed red the other provinces of gaul until the day when the protestants took up arms against their oppressors. the hour of revolt having sounded, the rochelois were bound to be the first to take the field. having married in marcienne, the sister of captain mirant, one of the ablest and most daring sailors of la rochelle, my father had three children from this marriage--theresa, born in ; me, antonicq, born in ; and marguerite, born in . i embraced the profession of my father, who, upon the death of master raimbaud, deceased without heirs, succeeded to the latter's business. about four years ago, the hardship of the times brought to la rochelle, where, together with other protestants he sought refuge, louis rennepont, a nephew of brother st. ernest-martyr, the bridegroom of hena, who was burned together with her. informed by his father of the tragic death of the augustinian monk, louis rennepont conceived a horror for the creed of rome, in whose name such atrocities were committed, and after his father's death he entered the evangelical church. an advocate in the parliament of paris, and indicted for heresy, he escaped the stake by his flight to la rochelle. one day, as he strolled along the quay before our house, my father's sign--_odelin lebrenn, armorer_--caught his eye. he stepped in to inquire into our relationship with hena lebrenn. from us he gathered the information that hena was his uncle's wife, married to him by a reformed pastor. louis rennepont, from that time almost a relative of ours, continued to visit the house. he soon seemed smitten with the grace and virtues of my sister theresa. his love was reciprocated. he was a young man of noble heart, and of a modest and industrious disposition. stripped of his patrimony by the sentence of heresy, he earned his living at la rochelle with his profession of advocate. my father appreciated the merits of louis rennepont, and granted him my sister theresa. they were married in . their happiness justifies my father's hopes. my youngest sister marguerite disappeared from the paternal home at the age of eight, under rather mysterious circumstances which i shall here state. since his establishment at la rochelle, my father was animated by a lively desire to take us all--mother, sisters and myself--to brittany, on a kind of pious pilgrimage to the scene of our family's origin, near the sacred stones of karnak. the journey by land was short, but the religious war included in those days brittany also in its ravages. my father feared to risk himself and family among the warring factions. his brother-in-law mirant, the sailor, having to cross from la rochelle to dover, proposed that my father take ship with him on his brigantine. the vessel was to touch at vannes, the port nearest karnak. our pilgrimage accomplished, we were to set sail for dover, whither my father frequently consigned arms, and where he would have the opportunity of a personal interview with his correspondent in that place. after that, my uncle mirant was to return to france with a cargo of merchandise. our absence would not exceed three weeks. my father accepted the proposition with joy. shortly before the day of our departure my sister marguerite was taken sick. the distemper was not dangerous, but it prevented her from joining in the trip, the day for which was set and could not be postponed. my parents left her behind in the charge of her god-mother, an excellent woman, the wife of john barbot, a master copper-smith. we departed for vannes on board the brigantine of captain mirant. my sister marguerite recovered soon after. her god-mother frequently took her out for a walk beyond the ramparts. one day the child was playing with other little girls near a clump of trees, and strayed away from dame barbot. when her god-mother looked for her to take her home, the child was nowhere to be found. the most diligent searches, instituted for weeks and months after the occurrence, were all in vain. the child had been abducted; the kidnappers remained undiscovered. marguerite was wept and her loss grieved over by us all. our pilgrimage to karnak, the cradle of the family of joel, left a profound, an indelible impression upon me. i shall later return to some of the consequences of that trip. captain mirant, my mother's brother, a widower after only a few years' marriage, had a daughter named cornelia. i loved her from early infancy as a sister. as we grew up our affection for each other waxed warmer. our parents expected to see us man and wife. cornelia gave promise by her virtue and bravery of resembling one of those women belonging to the heroic age of gaul, and of approving herself worthy of her ancestry. having lost her mother when still a child, my cousin occasionally accompanied her father on his rough sea voyages. the character of the young girl, like her beauty, presented a mixture of virility, grace and strength. at the time when this narrative commences, cornelia was sixteen years of age, myself twenty. we were betrothed, and our families had decided that we were to be united in wedlock three or four years later. my grand-uncle the franc-taupin yielded, shortly after his arrival at la rochelle, to the solicitations of my grandfather christian, who, feeling his approaching dissolution, entreated the brave soldier of adventure not to separate himself from his nephew, soon surely to be an orphan. the franc-taupin adjourned the execution of his resolution to avenge the death of bridget and hena. he remained near my father odelin and enrolled himself with the archers of the city. as a consequence of our family sorrows, he gave up his former disorderly life. the guardianship of his nephew, then still a lad, brought him new duties. he earned by his merit the post of sergeant of the city militia. but when the massacre of vassy caused the protestants to rise from one end of gaul to the other, and these finally ran to arms, the franc-taupin departed to join the insurgents. he was elected the chief of his band, and proved himself pitiless in his acts of reprisal. he had sworn to revenge the papist atrocities committed upon his sister and niece. the provinces of anjou and saintonge took a large part in the religious ware that broke out. my father, although married several years before, left his establishment to enlist himself among the volunteers of the protestant army, and deported himself bravely under the orders of coligny, condé, lanoüe and dandelot. he was twice wounded. i accompanied him in the second armed uprising of , when, alas! i had the misfortune of losing him. i took the field at his side as a volunteer, leaving in la rochelle my mother, my sister theresa, then the wife of louis rennepont, and my cousin cornelia, who desired to join her father, captain mirant, on a cruise against the royal ships, while i was to combat on land in the army of coligny. chapter i. the queen's "flying squadron." the abbey of st. severin, situated on the limoges road not far from the town of malraye, belonged to the order of st. bernard. before the beginning of the religious wars, the abbey was a splendid monument, built by the hands of _jacques bonhomme_,[ ] like so many other monasteries that dot the soil of france. as a church vassal, jacques bonhomme transported either upon his own back, or, to the still greater injury of field agriculture, with the help of oxen, the stones, the lumber, the sand and the lime requisite for the erection of these pretentious monastic residences. he thereupon carried to the idling monks the tithes on his corn, on his cattle, on his poultry, on his eggs, on his butter, on his wine, on his oil, on the fleece of his sheep, on his honey, on his linen, in short, the prime of all that he produced with the sweat of his brow. then came the corvee[ ]--to till the convent lands, to sow, weed and gather the crops thereon; to keep the convent roads in repair; to irrigate its meadows; to dredge its ponds; to serve as watchman; and finally to lay down his life in its defense against the roving bands of vagabonds and robbers. in return for all these services--when either old, or sick, or exhausted with toil, jacques bonhomme could work no more--he was allowed to hold out his bowl at the gate of the monastery, when the monks would occasionally deign to fill it with greasy water from their kitchen. when the church vassal was at his last breath, stretched upon the straw in his hut, the good fathers came to assist and solace him with their _oremus_.[ ] "god created man for sorrow and poverty," they would say to him; "you have suffered--god is pleased; you shall enjoy a famous seat in paradise. yours will be the delights of the celestial mansion." when the spirit of the reformation penetrated some of the provinces, jacques bonhomme began to lend an ear to a new theory. "poor, ignorant people, poor duped and defrauded people," said the pastors of the new church; "offerings to saints, masses, and purgatory are idolatries, tricks, frauds, sacrilegious inventions with the aid of which the priests and monks appropriate to themselves the silver laid by fools upon the altars and at the feet of wooden and stone images. good men! read the sacred book. you will discover that god forbids the traffic on which thousands of frocked and tonsured idlers grow fat." in sight of such a revelation, based as it was upon the texts of holy writ, jacques bonhomme said to himself in his own rustic common sense: "'tis so! i have been cheated, duped and robbed all these centuries by the church of rome!" thereupon jacques bonhomme turned himself loose upon the convents and churches; he overthrew, broke and profaned the altars, the relics and the statues of saints that had so long been the objects of his veneration. on the other hand, in the provinces where the population remained under the mental domination of the clergy, jacques bonhomme turned himself loose upon the houses of huguenots, set them on fire, slaughtered the men, violated the women, and dashed the brains of old men and children against the walls. occupied before the religious wars by the bernardine monks, the abbey of st. severin had been repeatedly sacked, like so many other monastic resorts in the districts of poitou, berri and limousin. reared on an admirable site--the slope of a hill shaded by a thick forest--the convent clearly revealed the traces of a sack, freshly undergone: shattered windows, doors broken open or torn from their hinges, portions of the walls blackened by fire, and the capitals of the columns mutilated by the discharge of arquebuses and the fury of the devastators. one day, towards the middle of the month of june, , as the sun drew near the western horizon, the silence around the ruins of the abbey of st. severin was disturbed by the arrival of two squadrons of light cavalry belonging to the catholic army. the cavalcade escorted a long convoy of pack-mules, the men in charge of whom wore the colors and arms of the royal house of france and of the house of lorraine. the convoy entered the yard of the cloister. the lackeys unloaded the mules and took possession of the deserted abbey. true to their name, the horsemen were armed in the lightest manner, with burgundian helmets and breastplates, together with armlets and gauntlets, besides thigh-pieces partly covered by their boots; small arquebuses, only three feet long and well polished, hung from their saddle pommels, and short swords and iron maces completed their outfit. the armed corps had for its commandant count neroweg of plouernel, a man beyond sixty years of age, of rough, haughty and martial mien. from head to foot he was covered with armor damascened in gold. his turkish silver-grey horse was cased at the neck, chest and crupper in light flexible sheets of chiseled and richly gilt steel. its orange-colored velvet housings and saddle were ornamented with green and silver lace, the heraldic colors of the house of plouernel. the jacket or floating coat that the count wore above his armor was also of orange-colored velvet, and likewise embroidered with green and silver thread. the commandant of the detachment alighted from his horse; ordered the monastery to be searched; set up watches and sent out pickets over the principal roads that led to the place. he then remounted and rode away in the direction of limoges, escorted by only one of the two squadrons. immediately after the departure of the count, the quartermasters of queen catherine de medici, assisted by her serving-men and those of charles of guise, cardinal of lorraine, fell to work on the task of imparting to the devastated halls of the abbey the most presentable appearance possible, with the view of lodging the queen and the prelate whose arrival they expected. the mules, to the number of more than sixty, carried a complete traveling equipment on their pack-saddles, or in large trunks strapped to their backs--tent cloths, lambrequins, tapestry, easels, dismantled beds, curtains, mattresses, silver vessels, besides an abundance of eatables and wines with the necessary kitchen utensils, and even ice, in leather bags. the valets set to work with a will, and with a promptitude truly marvelous they tapestried the apartments destined for the queen and for the cardinal by hanging rich cloths, provided in advance with gilt hooks, from nails that they deftly drove along the upper edges of the walls. they then fitted out the two rooms with the necessary furniture brought by the mules. a chamber, separated from that of the queen by a small passage was likewise prepared for the reception of the sovereign's four maids of honor. the pages, the knights, the chamberlains, the officers and the equerries were all quartered, as in time of war, in the outhouses of the abbey, the vast kitchen of which was invaded by the master cook and his aides, who prepared supper, while the stewards spread the royal table in the refectory of the monastery. shortly before sunset forerunners announced the approach of the queen. upon the heels of the forerunners came a vanguard, and immediately after, several armed squadrons, in the center of which was the royal litter, enclosed with hangings of gold-embroidered violet velvet and carried by two mules, likewise in trappings of violet velvet. a second litter, not so richly decorated and empty at the time, was reserved for those maids of honor who might tire of riding. these maids, however, together with their governess, had preferred to cover the distance on the backs of their richly caparisoned palfreys, the necks, flanks and cruppers of which were decked in embroidered velvet emblazoned with the arms of the royal house of france. pages and equerries followed the maids of honor. the rear was brought up by the litter of the cardinal of lorraine, wrapped in purple taffeta hangings and surrounded by several leading dignitaries and princes of the church. before entering the yard of the abbey the prelate put his head out of his litter, and ordered one of his gentlemen-in-waiting to summon before him the commandant of the escort. charles of guise, cardinal of lorraine, was at that time forty-six years of age. his otherwise handsome features, now marred by debauchery, reflected shrewdness, craft, and above all haughtiness, these being the dominant traits of his character. count neroweg of plouernel, who was summoned by the prelate, approached the litter. "monsieur," said the cardinal in an imperious tone, "do you answer for the safety of the queen and myself?" "yes, monsieur cardinal." "have you taken sufficient precautions against any surprise on the part of the huguenot band known by the name of the 'avengers of israel' and captained by a felon nicknamed the 'one-eyed'?" "monsieur cardinal, i answer with my life for the safety of the queen. the huguenot forces need not alarm us. his majesty's army covers our escort. marshal tavannes is notified of the queen's arrival; he has undoubtedly kept clear the route followed by her majesty. i told your eminence before that it would have been better to push straight ahead until we joined the army of marshal tavannes, instead of spending the night at this abbey." "do you imagine the queen and i can travel like a couple of troopers, without alighting for rest?" "monsieur cardinal," replied count neroweg of plouernel haughtily, "it is not for others to remind me of the respect i owe her majesty." "monsieur!" exclaimed the cardinal angrily, "you seem to forget that you are addressing a prince of the house of lorraine. be more respectful!" "monsieur cardinal, if you know the history of your house, i know the history of mine. pepin of heristal, the grandfather of charlemagne, from whom you pretend to descend, was but a rather insignificant specimen when the house of neroweg, illustrious in germany long before the frankish conquest, was already established in gaul for two centuries on its salic domains of auvergne, which it held from the sword of one of its own ancestors, a leude of clovis--" "lower your tone, monsieur! do not oblige me to remind you that colonel plouernel, your brother, is one of the military chiefs of the rebels who have risen in arms against the church and the crown." the colloquy was interrupted at this point by the arrival of a page who hurried to announce to the cardinal the entry of the queen into the cloister. leaving count neroweg under the stigma of insinuated treason, the prelate stepped down from his litter in order to hasten to the queen's side and render her his homage. catherine de medici was then in her fiftieth year. not now was she, as on that fateful january , , merely a princess, and the young butt of the arrows of the duchess of etampes. since then, francis i had died and had been succeeded to the throne by her husband as henry ii, who, dying later from the consequences of an accident at a tourney, left her queen regent--absolute monarch. in point of appearance also catherine de medici was now her complete self. she preserved the traces of her youthful beauty. a slight corpulence impaired in nothing the majesty of her stature. her shoulders, arms and hands--all of a dazzling whiteness--would, thanks to the perfection of their lines, have presented a noble model for a sculptor. her hair preserved its pristine blackness, and was on this evening covered by the hood of a damask mantle, violet like her trailing robe, which exposed a front of brass. cunning, perfidy, cruelty, were stamped upon her striking countenance. catherine de medici leaned upon the arm of her lover, the cardinal of lorraine, and entered the abbey, followed by her maids of honor, a bevy of ravishing young girls. the maids of honor of catherine de medici indulged in these days, and by express orders of their mistress, in the strangest of doings. the ironical title was given them of the "queen's flying squadron." indeed, according as her policy might require, catherine de medici commanded her maids of honor to prostitute themselves and take for their lovers the young seigneurs whom she wished to attract to her party, or whose secrets she wished to fathom. occasionally the queen even pointed out to her nymphs such court folks as she wished to be rid of. in such instances, rené, the court perfumer, prepared the most subtle poisons and the surest to boot, wherewith the young maids impregnated the gloves of their lovers, or the petals of a flower, or smelling boxes, or the sugar plums which they offered to the victims designated to them. it was a customary saying of catherine de medici to her new female recruits: "my little one, you are free to worship at the shrine of diana, or at that of venus, but if you sacrifice to the little god cupid, have an eye to the breadth of your waist."[ ] after supper the cardinal of lorraine remained alone with the queen. the maids of honor entertained themselves in a chamber adjoining the royal apartment. there were four of them, each of a different type of beauty. the youngest was eighteen years of age. a veneer of grace and elegance concealed the precocious degradation of the four beauties. they were superbly dressed. catherine de medici loved luxury; on their travels the members of her suite took with them, laden in trunks strapped to the backs of mules, complete outfits of splendid apparel. one of the maids of honor, blanche of verceil, was temporarily absent. diana of sauveterre, the senior of the queen's squadron, was a white and pink beauty of the blonde type. she wore a blue waist ornamented with open gold lace-work; her coif, made of white taffeta and surmounted with little curled feathers of blue and silver, marked with its point the middle of her forehead, whence, widening in two rounded wings to either side over her temples, it exposed an opulent growth of blonde hair combed back from the roots. clorinde of vaucernay, a dainty little creature with black hair and blue eyes, was clad in a waist and skirt of pale yellow damask threaded with silver; her bonnet, made of the same material, was embroidered with pearls. finally, anna bell, the youngest and most beautiful of all, seemed to unite in her single person the different charms of the other maids of honor. elegant of stature and with a skin of dazzling white, her thick light-brown hair contrasted marvelously with her eye-brows, jet-black like the long eyelashes which partly veiled her large, soft, brown eyes. the maid's rose-colored satin coat fell in graceful folds upon her robe of white satin. her pink bonnet was surmounted by little white frizzled feathers. anna bell seemed to be in a mood of profound melancholy. seated slightly apart from her companions, with her elbows leaning on a window that opened upon the enclosure of the abbey, she dreamily contemplated the starry sky, lending but an absentminded attention to the conversation of her sister maids of honor. "did i understand you to say there were philters that could make men amorous?" asked clorinde of vaucernay. "yes, indeed," replied diana of sauveterre. "the effectiveness of certain philters is indisputable. in support of what i say i shall quote madam noirmoutier. she succeeded in pouring a few drops of a certain liquid into monsieur langeais's glass. before the repast was over, the young seigneur was crazy in love with her." "and yet there are people who remain incredulous concerning the efficacy of love potions," returned the first speaker. "what about you, anna bell, are you among the unbelievers?" "sincere love is the only philter that can effect prodigies," anna bell sighed as she answered. at that moment blanche of verceil joined her companions. hers was a masculine, brown-complexioned and tall type of beauty. the maid's abundant black hair and thick eyebrows would have imparted the stamp of harshness to her face were it not for the smile of merry raillery that habitually flitted over her cherry-red lips, which were accentuated by a light-brown down. she held in her hand several sheets of paper, and said gaily to her companions: "i have come to share with you, my darlings, a bit of good luck that has befallen me." "good! distribute your good things," cried diana of sauveterre. "this morning, just as we were mounting our horses," began blanche of verceil, "a page arrived from paris, sent to me by my dear brissac. the page brought me sugar plums, fresh flowers wonderfully preserved, and a letter full of love. but that is not all. the letter, which i could not read until a few minutes ago, contained a treasure--an inestimable treasure--the newest _pasquils_, the most daring and most biting that have yet appeared! they are a true intellectual treat." "what a windfall! and against whom are they directed?" asked diana of sauveterre. "innocent creature that you are!" blanche of verceil returned. "against whom can they be written if not against the queen, against the cardinal, against the court, and against the maids of honor of the queen's 'flying squadron'? it is all of us who are the butts of the satirists." "those vicious people treat us with scant courtesy," exclaimed the black-haired clorinde of vaucernay. "but, at any rate, we are sung in superb and royal company. by venus and cupid, we should feel proud." "come, blanche, read us the verses," diana of sauveterre suggested. "the queen may send for us any moment before she retires." instead of complying at once with diana's request, blanche of verceil pointed to anna bell, who remained in silent abstraction, and in a low voice said to her companions: "decidedly, the little one is in love. her ears do not prick up at the sound of that tickling word _pasquil_--a divine tid-bit of wit and wickedness the salt of which is worth a hundred fold, a thousand fold more than all the sugar of the candies." "i wager she is dreaming awake of the german prince of whom she speaks in her slumbers. how indiscreet sleep is! poor thing, she thinks her secret is well kept," rejoined clorinde of vaucernay. "blanche, the pasquils," again cried diana, impatiently. "i burn with curiosity to hear them." "honor to whom honor is due. we shall commence with our good dame the queen;" and with these words blanche read: "people ask, what's the resemblance 'tween catherine and jesebel: one, the latter, ruined israel, and the former ruins france; extreme malice marked the latter, malice's self the former is; finally, the judgment fell of a providence divine caused the dogs to eat up jesebel, while the carcass rank of catherine in this point doth differ much: it not even the dogs will munch."[ ] the maids of honor broke out into peals of laughter. anna bell, still pensively seated apart at the open casement, let her eyes wander over space, a stranger to the hilarity of her companions. she paid no attention to the reading of the verses. "you will yet see, in the event of our good dame catherine's being taken unawares and swallowing some of the sugar plums destined for her victims, that the rascally dogs may fear the remains of our venerable sovereign are poisoned--and will run away from her carcass," said clorinde of vaucernay. "that pasquil should be read to the queen. if she is in a good humor she will have a good laugh over it," put in diana of sauveterre. "indeed, few things amuse her more than bold and witty verses," acquiesced blanche. "do you remember how, when she read the 'marvelous discourses' from the satirical pen of the famous printer robert estienne, the good dame laughed heartily and said: 'there is some truth in that! but they do not know it all--how would it be if they were more fully posted!'[ ] now, listen. after the queen, monsieur the cardinal, that is a matter of course. he is supposed to be dead--they wish he were--that also is natural. here is his epitaph written in advance: "the cardinal, who, in his hours of life kept heaven, sea and earth all seething o'er, in hell now carries on his furious strife, and 'mong the damned, as erst 'mong us makes war. "why is it that upon his tomb is showered the holy water in such rare profusion? it is that there the torch of war lies lowered, and all fear lest it flare to new confusion."[ ] "poor monsieur cardinal!" exclaimed diana of sauveterre. "what a villainous calumny! he, such a poltroon as he, for a guise--he is the most craven of all cravens--to compare him with a bolt of war!" "no, not a bolt, but a torch," blanche corrected. "he rests satisfied with holding the torch of war, like madam gondi, the governess of the royal princes and princesses, held the torch of venus to light the amours of the late king henry ii, whose worthy go-between, or, to speak more plainly, whose cyprian, she was." "as for me," said clorinde of vaucernay, "i highly commend the queen for having placed, as governess over her children, her own husband's go-between. it is a sort of hereditary office which can not be entrusted to hands too worthy, and should be perpetuated in titled families." "accordingly," said blanche, "gondi, faithful to the duties of her cyprian employment, took charge of carrying the first love letter from mademoiselle margot[ ] to young henry of guise, whom we are about to meet in the army of marshal tavannes. hence evil tongues are saying: 'in these days, it is not the men who fall on their knees before the women, but the women who fall on their knees before the men and entreat them for amorous mercy.'"[ ] "nothing wonderful in that!" replied clorinde. "is it not for a queen to take the first step towards her subjects? what are we? queens. what are the men? our subjects. besides that, henry of guise is so handsome, so brave, so amorous! although he is barely eighteen years old, all the women are crazy over him--i first of all. my arms are open to him." "oh, clorinde! if biron were to hear you!" cried diana of sauveterre. "he has heard me," answered clorinde. "he knows that in pledging constancy, exception is always implied for an encounter with henry of guise. but let us hear the other pasquils, blanche!" "the next one," announced blanche, "is piquant. it alludes to the new custom that the queen has borrowed from spain. it alludes to the title of _majesty_ that she wishes to be addressed by, as well as her children: "the kingdom of france, to perdition while lagging, has seized from the spaniard his heathenish bragging: it rigs up a mortal in godhead's travesty, and when his estate with hypocrisy's smelling, i plainly can see, and without any telling, our majesty's booked--to be stript of majesty."[ ] "that last line is humorous," laughed clorinde. "'our majesty's booked--to be stript of majesty.'" "for want of the thing we take the name--that is enough to impose upon the fools," said diana of sauveterre. blanche pointed to their companion who was still seated by the window, now with her forehead resting on her hands, and said: "look at anna bell. in what black melancholy is she plunged?" "to the devil with melancholy!" answered diana. "one has to fall in love with some german prince in order to look so pitiful!" "who may the prince charming be?" blanche inquired. "we know nothing of the secrets of that languishing maid, except a few words uttered by her in her sleep--'prince--germany!--germany!--my heart is all yours. alas, my love can not be shared.'" "can anna bell be german?" asked clorinde. "ask our good dame catherine about that. she is no doubt acquainted with the mystery of anna bell's birth, and may enlighten you on what you want to know. as for me, i know nothing about it." "the german prince has turned her head and made her forget poor solange altogether," said clorinde. "the most famous preachers, among them burning-fire and fra hervé the cordelier, failed to draw the marquis of solange back to the fold of the church. anna bell undertook his conversion, and, by grace from above--or from below--by virtue of her blue eyes or of her charming hips, the huguenot became an ardent catholic." "but to whom does he render his devotions?" asked clorinde, meaningly. "to the church, or to the chapel of our little friend?" the maids of honor laughed uproariously and clorinde continued: "but let us return to our pasquils." "this one," resumed blanche of verceil, "is odd on account of its form--and the climax is droll. judge for yourselves: "the poor people endure everything; the men-at-arms ravage everything; the holy church pensions everything; the favorites demand everything; the cardinal grants everything; the parliament registers everything; the chancellor seals everything; the queen-mother runs everything; and only the devil laughs at everything; because the devil will take everything."[ ] the loud hilarity of the maids of honor, whom the wind-up of the last pasquil amused intensely, finally attracted the attention of anna bell. her face bore the impress of profound sadness; her eyes were moist. fearing that she was the object of her companions' jests, the maid furtively wiped away her tears, stepped slowly towards the other young women, and let herself down beside blanche of verceil. "we are somewhat after the fashion of the devil--we laugh about everything," said clorinde to her. "you alone, anna bell, among us all, are as sad as a wife who sees her husband return from a long voyage, or beholds her gallant depart for the wars. what is the reason of your despondency?" anna bell forced a smile, and answered: "forget me, as the wife forgets her husband. to-day i feel in a sad humor." "the remembrance, perhaps, of a bad dream?" suggested blanche of verceil, ironically. "or perhaps bad news from a handsome and absent friend?" "no, dear blanche," replied anna bell, blushing, "i am affected only by a vague sorrow--without cause or object. besides, as you are aware, i am not of a gay disposition." "oh, god!" broke in diana of sauveterre, excitedly. "by the way of dreams, i must tell you i had a most frightful one last night. i saw our escort attacked by the huguenot bandits called the avengers of israel." "their chief is said to be a devilish one-eyed man, who attacks monks and priests by choice," said blanche, "and, when he takes them prisoner, flays their skulls. he calls that raising them to the cardinalate, coifing them with the red cap!" "it is enough to make one shiver with terror. one hears nothing but reports of such atrocities," exclaimed clorinde. "we need not fear that we shall fall into the hands of that reprobate," said diana reassuringly. "we have attended a special mass for the success of our journey." "i place but slight reliance upon the mass, my dear diana, but a very strong one upon count neroweg of plouernel, who commands our escort," replied blanche. "the huguenot bandits will not dare to approach our armed squadrons and light cavalry. the saber is a better protection to us than the priest's cowl." "may god preserve us!" laughed diana. "all the same, i would not regret undergoing a scare, or even running a certain degree of risk of being carried off, together with the accessory consequences--anything to see the frightened face of the cardinal, who is as lily-livered as a hare." "to tell the truth, i do not understand these charges of cowardice that you fling at the cardinal, after so many proofs of valor given by him," said blanche. diana of sauveterre burst out laughing again. "you must be joking," she said, "when you speak of the 'bravery' of the cardinal, and of the 'proofs of valor' given by him." "no, indeed, my dear diana," replied blanche. "i am talking seriously. first of all, did he not carry bravery to the point of charging old diana of poitiers, as he would have done a citadel? did he not accomplish another exploit in passing from the arms of diana into those of our good queen catherine, though she be loaded with years and corpulence? besides, we know," she added with a sinister smile, "that to play the gallant with catherine is at times to court death. these are the reasons why i look upon the cardinal as a caesar." "you would be talking to the point, my dear, if, instead of braving the one-eyed man, who has such a reputation for ferocity, the cardinal were now to turn to the assault of some one-eyed woman," said clorinde of vaucernay. "if heaven is just," said diana, "it will yet place the huguenot bandit face to face with the cordelier hervé. then would we see terrible things. the monk commands a company of catholics, all desperate men. for arms he has a chaplet, the beads of which are arquebus balls, and a heavy iron crucifix which he uses for a mace. all heretics who fall into the hands of the troop of fra hervé are put to death with all manner of refined tortures, whether they be men or women, old men or children. but do let us return to our pasquils." "the best are still to come. they are the cleverest and drollest, but they are in prose;" and blanche continued reading: "new works belonging to the court library. "the _pot-pourri of the affairs of france_, translated from the italian into french by the queen of france. "the _general goslings' record_, by the cardinal of bourbon. a collection of racy stories. "the _history of ganymede_, by the duke of anjou, the queen's favorite son." "the dear prince surely did not write that book without a collaborator," cried diana of sauveterre, laughing. "i wager the lovely odet, the son of count neroweg of plouernel, his aide-de-camp, must have helped the duke of anjou in his work. the two youngsters have become inseparable, day--and night!" "_o, italiam! italiam!_ o, italy, the rival of gomorrah and of lesbos!" exclaimed clorinde, laughing boisterously. "you speak latin, my dear?" asked diana, amused. "simply out of shame," replied clorinde, "in order not to frighten the modesty of the maids of honor, my pretty chickens." "i have a horror of the little hermaphrodites," agreed blanche. "they are decked out like women--gaudy ruffles, jewelry in their ears, fans in their hands! may venus protect us from the reign of those favorites! may the fires of hell consume the popinjays! but to proceed with the pasquil. attention, my dears: "_singular treatise on incest_, by monsignor the archbishop of lyons, recently published and dedicated to mademoiselle grisolles, his sister. a pretty couple! "monsignor archbishop studies reserved cases--in the confessional, in order to put them into practice. "_sermons_, by the reverend father burning-fire, faithfully compiled by the street-porters of paris. "_the perfect pig_, by monsieur villequier, revised, corrected and considerably enlarged by madam villequier. boar and sow!" the maids of honor roared out aloud as they heard the burlesque title, and they repeated in chorus--"the perfect pig!"[ ] "now comes the last and best," proceeded blanche. "we are again the theme, together with our good dame catherine. ours the honors, as ever. meditate upon these dainties: "manifesto of the court ladies. "_be it known to all by these presents that the court ladies have no less repentance than sins, as appears from the following lamentations_. "catherine de medici, the king's mother. "my god, my heart, feeling the approach of death, apprehends thy wrath and my eternal damnation when i consider how many sins i have committed, as well with my body as through the violent death of others, even of near relatives--all in order to reign. how i have raised my children in vice, blasphemy and perfidy, and my daughters in unchaste licence, to the point of tolerating and even authorizing a brothel at my court. france made me what i am. i unmake her all i can. with the good king david i say--_tibi soli peccavi_."[ ] "that is carrying fiction to great lengths," laughed diana of sauveterre. "i do not believe our good dame catherine is capable of repenting any of the things laid to her door by the malignant pasquil--neither her debaucheries nor any of her other evil deeds--unchastities or assassinations." "the word 'brothel' is rather impertinent when applied to us!" clorinde exclaimed. "they should have said, like our dear rabelais, 'an abbey of thalamia,' or 'a monastery of cyprus, of which the queen is the mother abbess.' that would have been elegant--without doing violence to the truth. a 'brothel'--fie! fie! nasty word! we are the priestesses of venus--only that!" "i was not aware, dearest, that you had become a model of prudishness!" returned blanche of verceil with exquisite mockery. "when you ply a trade you must be willing to accept its name, and be indifferent to the word with which it is designated;" and she proceeded to read: "manifesto of the maids of honor. "oh! oh! oh! my god! what is to become of us, lord! oh, what will be of us, if thou dost not extend to us thy vast, very vast mercy! we cry out to thee in a loud voice that it may please thee to forgive us the many carnal sins we have committed with kings, cardinals, princes, knights, abbots, preachers, poets, musicians and all manner of other folks of all conditions, trades and quality, down to muleteers, pages and lackeys, and even further down--people corroded with disease and soaked in preservatives! therefore do we say with the good madam villequier: 'oh, lord, mercy! grant us mercy! and if we can not find a husband, let us join the order of the magdalens!' "done at chercheau, voyage to nerac. "_signed_, cucufin. "(with the permission of monsignor the archbishop of lyons.)"[ ] such was the cynicism and moral turpitude of the wretched girls, corrupted and gangrened to the core as they were since early childhood by the perversions of an infamous court and the example as well as the advice of catherine de medici, that this scorching satire, more than any of the other pasquils, provoked the boundless hilarity of the "flying squadron." all sense of decorum was blotted out. anna bell alone blushed and dropped her eyes. the gay guffaws of the beautiful sinners were interrupted by the solemn entrance of their governess. "silence!" she commanded. "silence, young ladies! her majesty is close by, in conference with monseigneur the cardinal." "oh, dear countess!" answered blanche of verceil, endeavoring to smother the outbursts of her laughter. "if you only knew what a wicked pasquil we have just read! according to the author it would seem that we emerge from our dormitory like the goddess truth out of her fountain, or with as scant clothing on our limbs as madam eve in her paradise." "less noise, you crazy lasses! less noise!" ordered the governess; and addressing anna bell: "come, dearest, the queen wishes to have a talk with you after her conference with his excellency the cardinal. you are to wait for her summons in a cabinet, which is separated from the queen's apartment by the little corridor. when you hear her bell ring three times, the usual summons, you are to go in." anna bell went out with the governess, leaving her lightheaded and lighthearted companions in the room laughing and exchanging witticisms upon the pasquils. chapter ii. anna bell. catherine de medici and cardinal charles of lorraine were in the midst of a conversation that started immediately after supper. the prelate, complaisant, sly and attentive to the slightest word of the italian woman, showed himself alternately reserved and familiar, according to the turn that the conversation took. the queen, on the other hand, intent, not so much upon what the retainer of the guises said, as upon fathoming what he suppressed, at once hated and feared him, and sought to surprise upon his face the hidden secrets of his thoughts. both the one and the other stood on their guard, the two accomplices in intrigue and crime vying with each other in dissimulation and perfidy, the italian woman crafty, the prelate cautious. "monsignor cardinal," remarked catherine de medici with a touch of irony in her tone, "you remind me at this moment--you must excuse the comparison, i am a huntress you know--" "your majesty unites all the deities--juno on her throne, diana in the woods, venus in her temple of cytheria--" "mercy, monsignor cardinal, let us drop those mythological queens. they are old, they have lived their time--diana, with the rest of them; they now inhabit the empyrean." the pointed allusion to his amours with old diana of poitiers, duchess of valentinois, stung the haughty prelate to the quick. he meant to give tit for tat, and, in his turn hinting at his present amours with the queen herself, he replied: "i perceive, madam, that the death of the duchess of valentinois has not yet disarmed your jealousy. and yet, i feel hope re-rising in my heart--" catherine de medici had yielded herself to the prelate out of political calculation, the same as he himself had laid siege to her out of political ambition. the italian woman affected not to have understood the cardinal's hint at their intimate relations, and darting upon him her viper's glance, proceeded: "as i was saying, monsignor, when i begged you to excuse a comparison which i borrow from falconry, your oratorical circumlocutions remind me of a falcon's evolutions when he rises in the air to swoop down upon his prey. i have been searching through the mists of your discourse for the prey you are in pursuit of, and am unable to discover it. you induced me to join my son of anjou in the army with the view of reviving the spirits of the catholic chiefs. meseems my faithful subjects should be sufficiently encouraged by the deaths of the duke of deux-ponts, of monsieur condé, and of dandelot, the brother of coligny,--three of the most prominent chiefs of the huguenot party, and all three carried off within a month. these are all fortunate events."[ ] "we see god's hand in that, madam," observed the cardinal. "these three sudden deaths are providential. they are utterances from god." "'providential,' as you say monsignor cardinal," pursued the queen. "nevertheless, the huguenots are pushing the campaign with great vigor, while the catholic chiefs are flagging. you thought my presence at the camp of roche-la-belle would exert a favorable influence upon the fate of the campaign. accordingly, i am on the way to join our army. now, however, you indicate to me that this journey might lead to unexpected discoveries. you even dropped the word 'treason.' once more i must say to you, monsignor cardinal, i see in all this the evolutions of the falcon, but not yet the prey that it threatens. in short, if there is treason, tell me where it lies. if there is a traitor, name him. speak out plainly." "very well, madam. there is a plot concocted by marshal tavannes. the revelation seems to cause your majesty to start. i beg your leave to go into the details of the affair. you will then be instructed upon its purpose." "monsignor cardinal, no act of treason can surprise me. all i care to understand is the cause that brings the treason about. please continue your revelations." "i have it from good authority that marshal tavannes is negotiating with monsieur coligny. in present circumstances, negotiations smack of treason." "and what do you presume, monsignor cardinal, is the purpose of the negotiations between tavannes and coligny?" "to induce your majesty's son, the duke of anjou, to embrace the reformation and join the huguenots." "is my son of anjou supposed to be implicated in the plot? that, indeed, would mightily surprise me." "yes, madam. the emperor of germany and monsieur coligny have promised to the duke of anjou, in case he consents to go over to the reformers, the sovereignty of the low countries, of saintonge and of poitou. they hope to drive the young prince into open revolt against his reigning brother, his majesty charles ix." "monsignor cardinal, your insinuations, affecting as they do a son of the royal house of france, are of so grave a nature that i am bound to presume you have, ready at hand, the proofs of the plot which you are revealing to me. i demand that you produce the proofs instantly." "i am at the orders of my queen. i now hasten to spread before your majesty's eyes the correspondence relating to the plot. here is a letter from his majesty philip ii of spain, who was the first to get wind of the scheme, through one of his agents in the low countries. furthermore, here are the written propositions from his catholic majesty and the holy father for common action with your majesty against the huguenot rebellion and heresy." "what are the propositions of his catholic majesty and venerated pontiff?" "king philip ii and our holy father pius v offer to your majesty, besides the five thousand walloon and italian soldiers that now reinforce our army, a new corps of six thousand men--under the condition that your majesty remove marshal tavannes and place the supreme command of the troops in the hands of the duke of alva." "accordingly," replied catherine de medici, fixing her eyes upon the cardinal, "our two allies, his holiness and king philip ii demand that the duke of alva, a spanish general, be the commandant in chief of the french forces?" "that is their condition, madam. but it is also agreed that the duke of alva is to exercise a nominal command only, and that the military operations shall be conducted by my brother of aumale and my nephew henry of guise, who are to be his immediate subalterns." catherine de medici remained impassive, betraying neither astonishment nor anger at the proposition to deliver the command of the french royal troops to the duke of alva, the pestiferous menial of philip ii, and to strengthen the duke's hand with the support of the brother and the nephew of the prelate. the queen seemed to reflect. after a short pause she said to the cardinal: "the proposition is not inacceptable. it may serve as the basis for some combination that we may offer later." despite his self-control, the cardinal's face betrayed his secret joy. the queen seemed not to notice it, and proceeded: "the first thing to do would then be to withdraw my son of anjou from the command of the army." "the principal thing to do, madam, would be to remonstrate with the young prince, and to separate him from his present evil advisers." "that, indeed, would be the wisest course to pursue, if that plot exists, as i very much fear it can not be doubted in sight of the proofs you have presented to me. and yet, i must be frank to confess, i feel some repugnance against placing the duke of alva at the head of our army. i would be afraid, above all, of displeasing the other military chiefs and high dignitaries of our court. the measure will seem an outrage to them." "i have the honor of reminding your majesty that, in that case, my brother and my nephew will be joined to the duke of alva." "you may feel certain, monsignor cardinal, that, without the express condition of messieurs of aumale and guise being joined to the spanish generalissimo, i would not for a moment have lent an ear to the scheme." thrown off the scent by the queen, the prelate answered enthusiastically: "oh, madam, i swear to god the throne has not a more faithful supporter than the house of guise." "the fraud! the scamp!" said the italian woman to herself. "i have probed his thoughts! i scent his treason! but i am compelled to conceal my feelings and to humor his family, however heartily i abhor it." one of the queen's pages, posted outside the door of the apartment and authorized at certain emergencies of the service to enter the queen's cabinet without being called, parted the portieres, and bowing respectfully, said: "madam, the count of la riviere, captain of the guards of the duke of anjou, has just arrived from camp, and requests to be introduced to your majesty immediately." "bring him in," answered catherine de medici. and as the page was about to withdraw, she added: "should monsieur gondi arrive this evening, or even later in the night, let me be notified without delay." the page bowed a second time, and withdrew. the queen's last words seemed to cause the cardinal some uneasiness. he asked with surprise: "does madam expect monsieur gondi?" "gondi must have received a letter from me at poitiers, in which i ordered him to meet me at the camp of my son, instead of pursuing his route to paris." the guisard had not quite recovered from his surprise when the count of la riviere, captain of the guards of the duke of anjou, was ushered in by the page. catherine de medici said to the prelate with a sweet smile: "we shall see each other again to-night, monsignor cardinal. i shall need the advice of my friends in these sad complications. i shall want yours." charles of lorraine understood that he was expected to withdraw; he bowed respectfully to the queen and left the apartment, a prey to racking apprehensions. the captain of the guards of the duke of anjou stepped forward, and presenting a letter to catherine de medici, said: "madam, my master ordered me to place this letter in your majesty's own hands." "is my son's health good?" inquired the queen, taking the missive. "what is the news in the army?" "my master is in admirable health, madam. yesterday there was a skirmish of vanguards between us and the huguenots. the affair was of little importance--only a few men killed on either side." catherine broke the seal on the letter. as her eyes ran over its contents, her face, which at first was rigid with apprehension, gradually relaxed, and reflected gladness and profound satisfaction. "the guisard," she muttered to herself, "dared accuse my son of negotiating with admiral coligny. the infamous calumniator!" and turning to her son's ambassador: "my son informs me of your plan, monsieur. you wish to serve god, the king and france. your arm and your heart are at our disposal?" "madam, i am anxious to emulate monsieur montesquiou--and to rid the king of one of his most dangerous enemies." "you will surpass monsieur montesquiou if you succeed! one coligny is worth ten condés. but are you sure of the man whom my son mentions?" "the man swore by his soul that he would not falter. he received six thousand livres on account of the fifty thousand promised to him. the rest is not to be paid until the thing is done. that is our guarantee." "provided he is not assailed with some silly qualms of conscience. but how did you become acquainted with the fellow?" "yesterday, as i just had the honor of advising your majesty, there was a skirmish at our outposts. admiral coligny charged in person, and dominic, that is the name of the man in question, led one of his master's relay horses by the reins--" "he is, then, in the service of monsieur coligny?" "yes, madam; since infancy he has been attached to the admiral's house. during the engagement he was separated from him. two of our armed men were on the point of despatching dominic, as we despatch all huguenots, when, seeing me, he cried out 'quarter!' 'who are you?' i asked him. 'i am a servant of monsieur the admiral,' he answered. it suddenly flashed through my mind what profit we could draw from the man. relying upon attaching him to me by the bonds of gratitude, i granted him his life. later the proposition was made to him of causing the admiral to drink a potion that we would furnish him with, and of a rich reward for himself." "if your prisoner agreed readily to all," said the queen, raising her head, "there is reason to suspect him." "on the contrary, madam, he hesitated long. it was the magnitude of the promised sum that silenced his scruples. my master placed a certain powder in his hands and instucted him how to use it. the thing may be considered done." "how is our man to explain his return to the heretic camp?" "very easily, madam. he will say that he was made a prisoner by us and escaped. the admiral will not suspect a servant who was raised in his house." "i hardly dare hope for success! in one month we have been rid of three enemies--the duke of deux-ponts, condé and dandelot. now it will be coligny's turn! when is the man to leave our camp and rejoin the huguenots?" "this very night." "accordingly--to-morrow--" "if it shall please god, madam, our holy church and the kingdom will have triumphed over a redoubtable enemy." "how i wish it were to-morrow!" exclaimed catherine de medici in a hollow voice, as the page, reappearing at the portiere, announced: "madam, monsieur gondi and another rider are alighting from their horses. obedient to your majesty's orders i have hastened to give you the news, and await your orders." "summon gondi to me," said the italian woman; and addressing the count of la riviere: "go and take rest, monsieur; you may depart early in the morning; you shall have a letter from me for my son. whether the scheme succeed or not, we shall reward your zeal for the triumph of the catholic faith and the service of the king--two sacred interests." "will your majesty allow me to remind her that maurevert has just received the necklace of the order of st. michael for having put the huguenot captain, monsieur mouy to death, after having penetrated into the camp of the reformers under the pretext that he renounced the catholic faith and embraced the reformation? i would wish to be the object of a like distinction." "monsieur la riviere, you shall be as satisfied with us as we are with you. assassination, committed in the service of the king, deserves to be rewarded. you shall be decorated knight of the order of st. michael." the captain of the guards of the duke of anjou saluted the queen and withdrew as monsieur gondi entered in traveling costume. this italian shared with his countryman birago the confidence of catherine de medici. delighted, the queen took two steps towards gondi, saying with impatient curiosity: "what tidings from bayonne?" "madam, i do not come alone. i bring with me the reverend father lefevre, one of the luminaries of the faith, a pupil and disciple of the celebrated ignatius loyola, the founder of the order of jesuits." "but what is the result of your particular mission?" "at the very first words with which i broached the matter to the duke of alva, he stopped me, saying: 'monsieur gondi, the reverend father lefevre is just about to proceed to the queen for the purpose of considering with her the matter that brings you here. he has received the instructions of my master and of the holy father. he will disclose those instructions to the queen.' it was impossible for me to draw anything further from the duke of alva. accordingly, i had no choice but to return, madam, and to bring father lefevre to you." "this is strange. what sort of a man is the jesuit?" "an impenetrable man. you can neither divine his thoughts, nor pick the lock of his secrets. you may judge for yourself when you shall have him before you. he requests an audience this very evening." "and my daughter? what news from my poor elizabeth?" "the health of the queen of spain declines steadily, madam. she no longer leaves her bed." "alas, gondi, we one of these days shall hear that philip ii has poisoned my daughter, as we learned last year that he caused his own son, don carlos, to be put to death. oh, philip! thou crowned monk! thou vampire that feedst on human blood!" and after a short pause: "fetch me the jesuit." gondi left and returned almost immediately, accompanied by the one-time friend of christian the printer. the queen made a sign to gondi to be left alone with the jesuit. "you are father lefevre, and belong to the society of jesus? i understand that our holy father and the king of spain have charged you with a mission to me. speak, i am listening." "madam, the holy father and his majesty philip ii are very much displeased--with you. deign to acquaint yourself with this letter from his holiness." the jesuit extracted from a silk wallet a schedule sealed with the pontifical seal, carried it respectfully to his lips, and handed it over to catherine de medici. the queen broke the seal and read: madam and dearly beloved daughter: in no way and for no reason whatever should you spare the enemies of god. i have issued orders to the commander of my troops, the count of santa fiore, that _he cause all the huguenots that may fall into the hands of his soldiers to be_ killed on the spot. accordingly, no human considerations for persons or things should induce you to spare the enemies of god, they never having spared either god or yourself. only through the complete extermination of the heretics will the king be able to restore his noble kingdom to the old religion. the felons must be put to just torture and death. receive, madam, our apostolic benediction. pius.[ ] after reading the apostolic schedule, catherine de medici placed it upon a table and proceeded: "i see, reverend father, that both at rome and madrid i am charged with tolerance towards the huguenots. i am blamed with prolonging the war. the two courts see in all this a political calculation on my part, whence it follows that if i continue to displease rome and madrid measures will be taken--" "the holy father, the vicar of god on earth, has the power to release subjects from obedience to their sovereign, if he falls into heresy, deals with the same, or tolerates it." "proceed, reverend father." "the confirmatory bull of his holiness paul iv is formal--the pope of rome, by virtue of his divine right, is vested with power to excommunicate, suspend and depose all kings guilty of divine _lese majesté_, or tolerant toward that irremissible crime. after which, the throne being declared vacant, it devolves upon the first good catholic--who make take possession." "that sounds like a threat, directed at my son charles ix and at myself." "it is a paternal warning, madam." "in plain words, my son runs the risk of seeing himself deposed by the pope." "a disagreeable possibility, madam." "reverend father, assuming the throne is declared vacant--by whom will our holy father have it filled? surely not by a bourbon, seeing the house of bourbon is heretical. consequently, the good catholic rome and spain have in view probably is young henry of guise, the descendant of charlemagne, according to the theory of the house of lorraine." "that is a temporal question which does not concern me, madam. it is, however, a notable fact that young henry of guise, son of the martyr of orleans, carries a name that is dear to all catholics." "accordingly, the purpose of your mission, reverend father, is to convey a threat to me? but why blame me, a woman, with the slowness of the military operations against the huguenots?" "it is believed, madam, that you would look with too much disfavor upon a chief who would insure speedy triumph to the catholic armies, and that you deliberately hamper the military operations by inciting rivalry among the several captains and setting them at odds. the strategic mistake of allowing the duke of deux-ponts to penetrate into the very heart of france and carry a reinforcement of troops to the huguenots is laid to your door. the junction of the two army corps is now an accomplished fact." "the duke of deux-ponts!" exclaimed catherine de medici with a sinister smile. "you do not seem to know what has befallen that heretic chief. but, before speaking of the miscreant, i wish to put you in condition to appreciate the facts concerning myself. i shall be frank--my interests command it." "madam, i am ready to hear." "in order that you may have the key to my falsely interpreted conduct, i shall begin by making the following declaration to you--i have no religion! does such an introduction, perchance, astonish or shock you?" "by no means." "then, my reverend father, we shall be able to understand each other. you justify--according to what is reported of your order--tolerance for vice, provided appearances are saved. now, then, i have no religion. it follows that i concern myself only with promoting my own ambition." "frankness can not be carried further." "with the same outspokenness i shall add that i love power--to rule is life to me. i have been compared to queen brunhild. it is said i wink at precocious debauchery among my children with the view of unnerving and stupefying them. it is claimed i sow the seed of jealousy, intrigue and lechery among them." "those things are said--and many more, and more grave, madam." "some credence must be accorded to _hear say_, reverend father. at least, in what concerns myself, people are rarely wide of the mark. but let me proceed. the religious wars have furnished me with the means of alternately cropping the crests, now with the aid of the ones, then with the aid of the others, of both the catholic and the protestant seigneurs, who, during my husband's reign, conceived the design of restoring their old feudal sovereignties. i still have the house of guise to contend with, as brunhild of old had the stewards of the palace on her hands. thus i combated the reformation, or gave comfort to the huguenots against the catholics, according as political exigencies dictated. at present i am well acquainted with the purposes of the protestants, and i know how to conduct myself in order to annihilate them--when the moment shall have come to strike the decisive blow." "you have unfolded to me your theories, madam, but you have recited not a single act in support of your predilection for our holy church. we require proofs." "now let us pass to acts, reverend father. a few minutes ago you mentioned the name of the duke of deux-ponts, who hurried from germany in aid of the huguenots condé, coligny and his brother dandelot." "the hydra-heads of the heresy, madam." "well, reverend father, already the hydra has three heads less. the duke of deux-ponts is dead; monsieur dandelot is dead; the prince of condé is dead!" the jesuit, though stupefied, contemplated catherine de medici challengingly. "perhaps you would like to have some details concerning these great events," the imperturbable queen pursued. "i shall satisfy your curiosity. the day following his junction with the protestant army, the duke of deux-ponts was poisoned. that is the word which is current. but you, reverend father, and myself, look to facts, not words. the duke of deux-ponts was poisoned with a cup of spanish wine, that was poured out to him by a young beauty. two days later, dandelot, who suffered of a slow fever, was coaxed by another young beauty to swallow a pharmaceutical potion that quickly carried away both the disease and the patient. at the battle of jarnac, the prince of condé, who had surrendered his sword to d'argence under promise that his life would be safe, was shot down dead with a pistol by montesquiou, a captain of my son of anjou's guards. the occurrence came near turning my son crazy, such was his joy! when notified of what had happened, he hastened to the spot to see the corpse with his own eyes. he kicked it, and danced over and around it. it was a delirium! finally, for fun, the thought struck him of placing the corpse across a she-ass, with the head dangling down on one side, the legs on the other. on that distinguished mount he returned the defunct general to the protestant army, amid the hootings and cat-calls of our own soldiers.[ ] that is the way my children treat their heretical relatives. will his holiness still insist that we deal with the huguenots, or that we have any consideration for the enemies of the church?" "oh, madam!" cried the jesuit, almost choking with glee. "i lack words to express to you my admiration." "and yet you claimed," proceeded catherine de medici with a hyena-like smirk, "that i favored the huguenots! would the guisards, the holy father or philip ii do better than i? hardly has the campaign opened when condé, the soul of the french protestant party, has ceased to breathe; the duke of deux-ponts, the soul of the german party, has ceased to live; and dandelot, one of the ablest protestant generals, is also dead. nor is that all!" added the italian woman, taking from the table the letter of the duke of anjou, freshly brought to her by the captain of her son's guards, and passing it over to lefevre, "read this!" the jesuit took the letter, and, after informing himself of its contents, cried, contemplating the queen with ecstasy: "so that we may expect, to-morrow, to see coligny effect a junction with his brother dandelot!" "well, now, do you not think i have done a good deal of work?" "oh, you have accomplished and even exceeded all that the holy father and the king of spain could have asked!" "and yet, i still have information for you." saying this, the queen rang twice the bell near her. a page appeared. "bring me," ordered catherine, "the ebony casket that you will find in my chamber, on the table near my bed." the page went out and catherine turned again to the jesuit: "you surely know prince franz of gerolstein by name and reputation?" "i know, madam, that the principality of that heretical family is a hot-bed of pestilence. we keep our eyes open upon that nest of miscreants." "the duke of deux-ponts appointed as commander of his troops the aged general wolfgang of mansfeld, but did so with the recommendation that the active direction of operations be entrusted to the prince of gerolstein, a young, but one of the ablest german generals. this very night one of my maids of honor is to depart--" the re-entrance of the page broke off the queen's sentence. he deposited the casket beside catherine and withdrew. "you were saying, madam," observed father lefevre, "that one of your maids of honor was to depart this very night--" "you seem to relish deeply my communications, reverend father, and yet it was only a few minutes ago that you almost treated me like a huguenot woman." "mercy, madam, a truce of raillery. the unexpected and happy tidings you have imparted to me were not known by the holy father and the king of spain when i left them. i declare to you, madam, that these events modify profoundly my mission to your court." "well, reverend father, i am constantly saying to the spanish ambassador and the papal legate in france: 'wait--let me do--have patience.' but all to no avail. the holy father yields to the inspirations of the agents of the cardinal of lorraine, while philip ii dreams of the dismemberment of france and desires to place henry of guise on the throne. in that philip ii plays a risky game, reverend father! to overthrow the reigning dynasty of france would be to set a bad example to the people, and to deal a mortal blow to monarchy itself. we are living in frightful times. everything conspires against royalty. the huguenots, at least some of them who style themselves the most advanced in politics, proclaim the people's right to federate in a republic after the fashion of the swiss cantons. and even you, my reverend fathers, you also attack royal authority by preaching the doctrine of regicide." "that is true, madam; we maintain that the kings who do not labor for the greater glory of the church must be smitten from the throne." "neither my sons nor i refuse to labor for the greater glory of the church. it must be a matter of indifference to the holy father whether the huguenots are exterminated by us or by the guises, or by spain. what advantage could the court of rome derive from suppressing the dynasty of valois?" "his holiness sees clearly through the game of the king of spain. he will never favor philip's ambitious designs to the injury of your dynasty--unless obliged thereto by your resistance to the court of rome. we aim at the extirpation of heresy by the extermination of the huguenots; and i have been commissioned, madam, to urge you to prosecute the war with vigor--" "the war!" broke in the queen impatiently, and with marked contempt and irony. "how come you, a jesuit, a man of keenness and science, to make yourself the echo of the pope and of philip ii, two nearsighted intellects? let us reason together, my reverend father. would you, if you want to kill your enemy, choose the time when he is on his guard and armed? would you not wait for when he sheathed his sword and was peacefully asleep in his house? and in order to lead him to that state of apparent security, would you not approach him with a smile on your lips, your hand outstretched, and with the words: 'let us forget our enmity'?" "but for the success of such tactics our enemy must have confidence in us." "protestations of friendship are supported by oaths." "oh! oh! vain hope! your majesty errs if you believe you can lull the suspicions of the huguenots with oaths." "i am of the school of machiavelli, reverend father; as such i have faith in the efficacy of oaths. listen to this passage from the volume entitled _the prince_. i learned it by heart; it deals upon this very subject: 'the animals whose appearance a prince must know how to assume are the _fox_ and the _lion_. the former defends himself but poorly against the wolf, while the latter readily falls into the snares laid for him. from the fox a prince will learn how to be adroit, from the lion how to be strong. whoever disdains the method of the fox knows nothing of governing men. in other words, a prince neither can nor should keep his word, except when he can do so without injury to himself. the thing is to play his part well, and to know when to feign and dissimulate. to cite but one instance: pope alexander vi made deception his life-work. this notwithstanding, despite his well known faithlessness, he succeeded in all his artifices, protestations and oaths.' did you hear, reverend father," added the italian woman interrupting her recitation and laying stress upon the word _oaths_, and she proceeded: "'never before did any prince break his word more frequently, or respect his pledges less, because he was master of the art of governing.'[ ] alexander vi was an incestuous pope; he committed murder and sacrilege, yet there were those who believed they could rely upon his oath. i am said to be an incestuous mother; i am said to have caused blood to flow in streams; i am said to have caused my enemies to be poisoned; all these and many more misdeeds are imputed to me. very well! now, all this notwithstanding, they will place faith in my oaths. judge the future by the past. remember that after the revocation of the edict of amboise, the huguenot party allowed itself to be trepanned by the edict of longjumeau, confirmed by our royal word. but let us now pass to another line of argument, my reverend father. please hand me yonder casket--not the one the page just brought in, the other." the jesuit placed on the table before the queen the casket that she pointed out. she opened it with a little key suspended from her waist, and took out of it a scroll of paper which she handed to father lefevre. "inform yourself on this document, reverend father," she said. father lefevre read as follows: "summary of the matters primarily agreed upon between the duke of montmorency, constable; the duke of guise, grand master and peer of france; and marshal st. andré, for the conspiracy of the triumvirate, and subsequently discussed at the entrance of the sacred and holy council of trent, and agreed upon by the parties herein concerned at their private council held against the heretics and the king of navarre, because of his maladministration of the affairs of charles ix, minor king of france, the which king of navarre is a partisan of the new sect which now infests france." the jesuit looked surprised. deeply interested, he asked: "how is your majesty in possession of this secret pact?" "it matters not how." the jesuit proceeded to read: "in order that the affair be conducted under the highest authority, it is agreed to vest the superintendence of the whole plan in the very catholic king of all the spains, philip ii, who shall conduct the enterprise. he is to remonstrate with the king of navarre on the score of the support that he affords to the new religion; and if the said navarrais proves intractable, the said king philip ii is to endeavor to draw him over to him with the promise of the restitution of navarre, or some other gift of great profit or emolument. by these means the said king philip ii is to soften him, to the end of inducing him to conspire against the heretical sect. if he still resists, king philip ii shall raise the necessary forces in spain, and fall unexpectedly upon the territory of navarre, which he will be easily able to be overrun, while the duke of guise, declaring himself at the same time _chief of the catholic confession_, shall from his side gather armed men, and, thus pressed from two sides, the territory of navarre can be easily seized." "so you see, reverend father, the pact dates back to --eight years ago--and already then did francis of guise declare himself _chief of the catholic confession_, under the protection of the king of spain. neither myself, the regent, nor my son, the king of france, although then a minor, is at all taken into consideration." the jesuit proceeded to read aloud: "the emperor of germany and other princes who have remained catholic shall block the passages to france during the war in that country, in order to prevent the protestant princes from coming to the aid of the navarrais, and they will also see to it that the swiss cantons remain quiet. to that end it will be necessary that the catholic cantons declare war upon the protestant ones, and that the pope give all the assistance in his power to the said catholic cantons, and that he subsidize them with money and other necessaries for the war. "while war is thus keeping france and switzerland busy, the duke of savoy shall fall unexpectedly upon geneva and lausanne, shall seize the two cities, _and shall put all the inhabitants who resist to the sword, and all the others shall be thrown into the lake_, without distinction of age or sex, to the end that all may be made to feel that divine providence has compensated for the postponement of punishment with its grandeur, and wills that the children suffer for the heresy of their parents, obedient to the biblical text." "oh, we must all admit, madam," exclaimed the jesuit, interrupting his reading, "duke francis of guise is nourished with the marrow of catholicism--" "we of the house of valois will suck the identical bone, and we will verify the dream of the guisard, who was assassinated the very day after he signed this pact--" again the jesuit proceeded to read: "the same in france. for good and just reasons _all the heretics, without distinction, must be massacred at one blow_. the peace shall be put to that use. and this mission of exterminating all the members of the new religion shall be entrusted to the duke of guise, who shall, moreover, be charged with entirely effacing the name and stock of the lineage of the navarrian bourbons, lest from them there may arise some one to undertake the revenge of these acts, or the restoration of the new religion. all these matters are to be kept in mind. "matters being thus disposed of in france, it will be well to invade protestant germany with the aid of the emperor and the bishops, and to restore that country to the holy apostolic see. to this end, the duke of guise _shall lend the emperor and other catholic princes all the moneys proceeding from the confiscations and spoils of so many nobles and rich bourgeois_, killed _in france_ as heretics. the duke of guise shall be later reimbursed from the _spoils of the lutherans, who, by reason of the same taint of heresy shall have been killed in germany_. "the cardinals of the sacred college have no doubt that, in the same manner, all the other kingdoms can be turned into the flocks of the apostolic shepherd. but, first of all, may it please god to help and favor these purposes, they being holy and full of piety."[ ] "holy and full of piety were these catholic purposes!" exclaimed the reverend father lefevre laying the pact of the triumvirate upon the table. "alas, death palsied the hand of the duke of guise at the very beginning of his great work!" "the lord evidently wished, my reverend father, to reserve for us, the valois, the execution of the project that the guisard organized with a motive of purely personal ambition. i shall hatch the bloody egg that the lorrainian laid. but the chick can not break the egg except during peace. then the huguenots will have ceased to be on their guard; then they will be dozing in false security. the work of extermination will be accomplished with the help of a peace that we shall have brought about. all will be killed--men and women, children and the aged. not one heretic will escape the avenging sword. let rome and madrid give me time to move! let pius v and philip ii give over harassing me continually with their threats on the ground that the war is dragging along! are hostilities to be suddenly stopped? no, indeed! i must profit, as i have already profited, by all opportunities to destroy as many huguenots as possible, especially their leaders. the duke of alva is right: 'one salmon is worth more than a thousand minnows.' at the first favorable juncture i shall negotiate peace with the protestants, and grant them all they may demand. the more favorable the treaty shall be to the huguenots, all the smoother will the rope run that is to strangle them. when the edict is promulgated it shall be scrupulously carried out, in order to induce our adversaries to disarm. at the right moment we shall organize the general massacre, for one day, all over france." "the holy father and the king of spain shall be posted on your majesty's project. they will be notified that it is thanks to you, the duke of deux-ponts, dandelot and the prince of condé _have been dismissed to appear before their natural judge_." "people of your cloth, my reverend father," replied the queen, "know how to impart an ingenious and peculiar turn to the description of events." "madam, seeing we are considering those people in whose behalf we simply advance the hour of final judgment, i wish above all to recommend to the attention of your majesty that most dangerous german prince--franz of gerolstein." "the young prince came last year to my court shortly before the reformers took up arms. he is brilliant, daring and gifted with great military talent. it was due to his influence that the duke of deux-ponts decided to bring to the protestant army the reinforcement it received of german troops. to-day franz of gerolstein is the real head of the forces over which wolfgang of mansfeld exercises but titular authority." "do you expect to deliver the church of that pestilential gerolstein?" "one of my maids of honor is to take charge of that delicate mission, my reverend father--" and stopping suddenly short and listening in the direction of a little door that communicated with the apartment, catherine de medici asked: "did you not hear a sound, something like a suppressed cry outside there?" "no, madam." "it seems to me i heard a voice behind that door. throw it open," whispered catherine to father lefevre; "see, i beg you, if there is someone listening!" the jesuit rose, pushed open the door, looked out, and returned: "madam, i can see nobody; the corridor is dark." "i must have deceived myself. it must have been the moaning of the wind that i heard." "madam," said father lefevre as he resumed his seat, "once we are considering dangerous persons, i request you to mention to your generals two heretics in particular--odelin lebrenn and his son, armorers by trade, who serve in the admiral's army as volunteers. i would urge you to recommend to your generals that they spare the lives of both heretics if they are ever taken prisoners." "did i understand you correctly, my reverend father? the lives of the two miscreants are to be spared?" "the grace extended to them will be but a short respite, which we would put to profit by wresting from them certain valuable secrets with the aid of the rack--before dismissing them to their supreme judge." "those are details, my reverend father, with which i can not burden myself. upon such matters you must treat with count neroweg of plouernel, the chief of my escort." at the name of neroweg of plouernel the jesuit gave a slight start. with a face expressive of gratification he remarked: "madam, providence seconds my wishes. there is none fitter than the count of plouernel for me to address myself to in this affair." "let us return to more weighty questions, my reverend father. i have still two words to say to you concerning the cardinal of lorraine. this evening the guisard strove to make me believe that marshal tavannes, the commandant of the army of my son of anjou, was treating secretly with coligny. according to the cardinal, the plot is to offer my son the sovereignty of the low countries, besides guyenne and other provinces, upon condition that he embrace the reformed religion. have you received any inkling of these projects through your spies? unless your own interests render it necessary for you to deceive me on this head, answer me truthfully. i know how to hear and bear the full truth on all matters." the jesuit reflected for a moment; he then made answer: "yes, madam; we are informed on those negotiations--indeed, it is due to that very information that it was decided to send me upon the present mission to your majesty." "and, with the view of thwarting the plot, did the cardinal of lorraine induce philip ii to propose the duke of alva to me for general-in-chief of the catholic army, with young henry of guise, the cardinal's nephew, and his brother, the duke of aumale, as alva's lieutenants?" "the proposition was made to the king of spain. it is true." "who, no doubt, received it favorably?" "yes, madam. but his catholic majesty was not then aware of the latest happenings which you communicated to me, the same as he is still ignorant of your resolution to put an end to the heresy when the moment shall have come to strike the decisive blow, as you explained it." "you are now informed on the contents of the letter which i showed you from my son of anjou, regarding the project against coligny. the cardinal lied knowingly when he accused my son of dealing with the admiral. of course he knows the marshal and my son will stoutly deny the charge. he merely seeks to arouse doubts and suspicions in my mind, hoping i may be frightened into transferring the command of the french army into the hands of the duke of alva and his nephew." "the cardinal's falsehood, madam, did not lack skill. it was an adroit diplomatic move." "now, my reverend father, let me sum up our interview--war upon the huguenots, merciless war, while it lasts; thereupon the offer or acceptance of a peace, which is to be utilized by us in preparing their extermination. that is my line of conduct." "my mission to you is ended, madam. to-morrow i shall take my departure and return to inform the king of spain and the holy father of the happy deeds done, and those in contemplation, all of which guarantee the execution of your promises for the future." "my reverend father, is it in my power to bestow any favor upon you, to grant you a present? it is a right enjoyed by all negotiators." "madam, we care but little for the goods and honors of this world. all i shall ask of you is to cause your son, king charles ix, to change his confessor, and take one from our society, the reverend father auger. he is an able and accommodating man, skilful in understanding everything, permitting everything--and advising everything." "i promise you i shall induce my son charles to take father auger for his confessor. good night, my reverend father, go and rest. i shall see you to-morrow before your departure and deliver to you a letter for the holy father." the queen rang twice the little bell that lay at her elbow. a page entered: "conduct the reverend father to count neroweg of plouernel." she then rang again, not twice, but three times. after bowing to catherine de medici the jesuit withdrew upon the steps of the page. almost immediately anna bell stepped into the apartment through the door that opened upon the corridor. catherine de medici was struck by the pallor and the troubled, almost frightened, looks of her maid of honor as she presented herself upon the summons of the bell. fastening a penetrating look upon anna bell, the queen said: "you look very pale, dearest; your hands tremble; you seem unable to repress some violent emotion." "may your majesty deign to excuse me--" "what is the cause of your great agitation?" "fear, madam. i was hurrying to answer your summons, and--as i crossed the dark corridor--whether it was an illusion or reality, i know not, madam, i thought i saw a white figure float before me--" "it must be the ghost of some deceased belle, who, expecting still to find here the sturdy abbot of the monastery, came to pay him a nocturnal visit. but let us leave the dead to themselves, and turn our thoughts to the living. i love you, my pet, above all your companions." "your majesty has taken pity upon a poor girl." "yes; it is now about eight or nine years ago, that, as paula, one of my women, was crossing the chatelet square, she saw an old bohemian wench holding a little girl by the hand. struck by the beauty and comeliness of the little one, paula offered to buy her. the gypsy quickly closed the bargain. paula told me the story. i desired to see her protegé. it turned out to be yourself. the bohemian woman must have kidnapped you from some huguenot family, i fear, judging from a little lead medal that hung from your neck and bore the legend--_a pastor calling the sheep of the church out of the desert_--a common expression in the cabalistic cant of those depraved people." "alas! madam, i preserve no other memento of my family--you will pardon me for having kept the medal." "well, from the instant that paula brought you before me i was charmed with your childish gracefulness. i had you carefully trained in the art of pleasing, and placed you among my maids of honor." "your majesty enjoys my unbounded gratitude. whenever you commanded i obeyed, even when you exacted a sacrifice--whatever it may have cost me--" "you are alluding, my pet, to the conversion of the marquis of solange! i said to you: 'solange is a huguenot; he is influential in his province; should war break out again, he may become a dangerous enemy to me; he contemplates leaving the court;--make him love you, and be not cruel to him; a handsome lass like you is well worth a mass.' the bargain was struck. we now have one catholic more, and one virgin less." anna bell hid her face, purple with shame. without seeming to notice the young girl's confusion, catherine de medici proceeded: "by the virtue of your beautiful eyes solange has become a fervent catholic and one of my most faithful servitors. you gave me in that instance proof of your complete devotion. for the rest, it was a sweet sacrifice on your part, my pet; solange is an accomplished nobleman, young, handsome, brave and witty. it is not now about that lover that we have business on hand. i have other plans for you. i am thinking of marrying you. i wish to make a princess of you, and verify the most cherished of your secret wishes--which i have guessed. anna bell, you do not love solange; you never loved him; and you nourish in the recesses of your heart a desperate passion for the young prince franz of gerolstein." "good god! madam. have pity upon me! mercy!" "there is nothing pitiful in the matter. the prince is made to be loved. his reputation for bravery, magnificence and gallantry ran ahead of him to my court, where you saw him last year. he often conversed with you tête-a-tête. when other women sought to provoke him with their allurements your face grew somber. oh, nothing escapes me! affairs of state do not absorb me to the point that i can not follow, with the corner of my eye, the cooings of my maids of honor. it is my mental relaxation. i love to see beauty in its youth devote itself to the cult of venus, and put in practice the saying of rabelais' thalamite--'_do what you please!_' how often did i not seat myself among you, my dear girls, to chat about your gallants, your appointments, your infidelities! what delightful tales did we not tell! how you all led the poor youngsters by the nose! truth to say, they returned you tit for tat, and with usury, to the greater glory of the goddess aphrodite! and yet, my pet, although i had trained you a true professional of the abbey of thalamia, with cupid for your god and voluptuousness for your patron saint, you ever remained out of your element among your companions. serious and melancholy, you are a sort of nun among my other maids. what you need is devoted and faithful love; a husband whom you can adore without remorse; a brood of children to love. that is the reason, my pet, why i wish to marry you to franz of gerolstein." "it pleases your majesty to mock me--take pity upon poor anna." "no joke! you admit you love the young and handsome german prince. i can read in your soul better than you could yourself. i shall tell you what your thoughts are at this moment: 'yes, i love franz of gerolstein! but a deep abyss separates us two, and will always separate me from him. he is in the camp opposed to that of the queen, my benefactress; he is the head of a sovereign house; he is ignorant of my passion, and if he did know, he never could think of wedding me! what am i? a poor girl picked up from the street. i already have had one gallant. besides, catherine de medici's maids of honor enjoy a bad, a deservedly bad, reputation. the satires and the pasquils designate us with the appellation of the queen's flying squadron. i should be crazy to think of marriage with franz of gerolstein--'" "madam, take pity upon me!" broke in anna bell, no longer able to restrain her tears. "even if what you say is true, even if you read to the very core of my thoughts--please do not sport with my secret sorrows." "my pet, hand me the little casket of sandal wood, ribbed in gold, that lies upon yonder table. it contains wonderful things." anna bell obeyed. the queen selected one of the little keys attached to her girdle and opened the casket. nothing could be more fascinating to the eyes than the contents of the chest--embroidered and perfumed gloves, smelling apples, dainty-looking vermillion confectionery boxes, filled with sugar plums of all colors, and several vials of gold and crystal. catherine de medici picked out one of these, reclosed the casket carefully and returned it to anna bell. the maid of honor replaced it upon the table and returned to the queen. smiling benignly and holding up the golden, glistening vial before her victim, the queen said: "do you see this, my pet? this little vial encloses the love of franz of gerolstein." "what a suspicion!" was the thought that flashed through anna bell's mind and froze her to the floor. but the terror-stricken girl quickly regained her self-control at that critical moment. "i must not," was the second thought that flashed through her mind close upon the first, "i must not allow the queen to notice that i know her purpose." "do you believe, my pet, in the potency of love-philters?" "this evening," answered the young girl with an effort to control her emotions, "this very evening clorinde of vaucernay was telling us, madam, that a lady of the court succeeded by means of one of those enchanted potions in captivating a man who, before then, had a strong dislike for her." "you, then, believe in the potency of philters?" "certainly, madam," answered anna bell anxious not to awaken the queen's suspicions; "i must have full confidence in their efficacy, seeing it is proved by such incontestable facts." "the merest doubt on the subject is unallowable, my pet; to doubt would be to shut one's eyes and deny the light of day. now, my little beauty, the philter contained in this vial, is put together by ruggieri, my alchemist, under the conjunction of marvelously favorable planets. it is of such virtue that only a few drops, if poured out by a woman who wishes to be loved by a man, would suffice to turn him permanently amorous of her. take this philter, my pet--go and find your prince charming. let him drink the contents of this vial--and grant him the gift of an amorous mercy." anna bell no longer suspected, she comprehended the queen's intentions. for a moment she was seized with terror and remained silent, mechanically holding the vial in her hand. the queen, on her part, attributing the stupor and silence of anna bell to an excess of joy, or, perhaps, to the apprehension caused her by the thought of the many and great dangers to overcome in order to approach her prince, proceeded to allay her fears: "poor dear girl, you are as speechless as if, awakened with a start from a dream, you find it a reality. you are surely asking yourself what to do in order to reach franz? nothing easier--provided your courage is abreast of your love." controlling her troubled mind, anna bell answered with composure: "i hope, madam, i do not lack courage." "listen to me carefully. we are only a few leagues from the enemy's army. i shall issue orders to count neroweg of plouernel to furnish you with a safe conduct up to the huguenot outposts. you shall be carried in one of my own litters, drawn by two mules. by dawn to-morrow morning you can not fail to run against some scout or other making the rounds of the protestant camp--" "great god! madam. i tremble at the bare thought of falling into the hands of the huguenots!" "if your courage fail you, all will run to water. but you may be quite certain that you run no risk whatever. the huguenots do not kill women--especially not such handsome ones as yourself. you will be merely the prisoner of the miscreants." "and what am i to do then, madam?" "you will say to those who will arrest you: 'messieurs, i am one of the queen's maids of honor; i was on my way to join her majesty; the leader of my litter struck a wrong road; please take me to prince franz of gerolstein.' the rest will go of itself. the huguenots will take you to the prince. like the nobleman that he is, my little beauty, he will keep you at his lodgings or in his tent, he will yield you the place of honor at his table--and--in his bed. you will have more than one opportunity to improve franz's wine with a few drops of the philter." the queen's instructions were interrupted at this point by the entrance of a page who came to announce that count neroweg of plouernel prayed for admission to the queen's presence upon pressing and important matters. catherine ordered the page to introduce the count, and she bade anna bell godspeed, kissing her on the forehead and adding these last instructions: "prepare immediately for your journey, my pet. the count of plouernel will appoint the guide who is to accompany you. one of my equerries will get a litter ready. i expect to see you again before your departure." the maid of honor followed the queen's instructions. seeing that the interview with the count of plouernel lasted longer than she had anticipated, catherine de medici was prevented from seeing anna bell again, and sent her a note to depart without delay. towards one o'clock in the morning the maid of honor mounted in one of the queen's litters, left the abbey of st. severin. chapter iii. the avengers of israel. the sun was rising. its early rays gilded the crest of a forest about a league distant from st. yrieix, a large burg that served as the center of the protestant encampment. a chapel, formerly dedicated to st. hubert by an inveterate hunter, raised its dilapidated walls on the edge of the wood, the skirts of which were now guarded by mounted scouts, posted at long intervals. the chapel had been devastated during the religious wars. its belfries, the capitals and the friezes of its portico were broken; its windows were smashed in; the statue of st. hubert, the patron of hunters, lay decapitated in the midst of other debris, along with that of the seigneur who founded the holy shrine, chosen by him for his sepulcher. the fragments of his marble image, representing him lying prone, with hands joined in prayer, hunting horn slung over his shoulder, his favorite greyhound stretched at his feet--all lay strewn around the mortuary vault, now gaping wide open and cumbered with ruins. the interior of the chapel now served as a stable, and also as guardhouse to a picket squad of the huguenot army, posted at the spot. the pickets' horses, ready saddled and bridled, stood drawn up in double row in one of the low-roofed aisles and on either side of a door that communicated with the old vestry. for want of forage the beasts were eating the green leaves of large bunches of branches thrown at their feet. the riders, either standing, or seated, or stretched out at full length, wrapped in their cloaks, were not dressed in uniform. their offensive and defensive arms, however, dissimilar and worn, were in usable condition. this band of huguenot volunteers took the name of the avengers of israel. josephin, the franc-taupin, named by the catholics "the one-eyed," was their commander. on all occasions the avengers of israel approved themselves animated by an intrepidity that was matchless, always claiming for themselves the post of greatest danger, and always found first in battle. the indomitable courage of the franc-taupin, his exceptional skill in guerilla warfare, his pitiless hatred for the papists, upon whom he swore to avenge the fate of his sister bridget and his niece hena, earned for him the leadership of these resolute men. on this day, at sunrise, the commander presided at a species of tribunal consisting of several of his companions in arms, all seated in the midst of the ruins of the chapel of st. hubert. the years had whitened the hair and beard of the franc-taupin, without impairing the fiber of his energy. an old rust-covered steel breastplate over his chest answered the purpose of corselet; his wide hose of red cloth were half covered by a pair of high leather boots heavy with dust; at his belt, which also contained his cartridges, hung a short stick suspended from a piece of pack-thread, and indented with sixteen notches--each tallying the death of a priest or monk. the dagger of fine milan steel, a present from odelin, hung on the franc-taupin's right side, while at his left he wore a long sword with an iron hilt. the franc-taupin's bronzed and haggard features, rendered all the more sinister by the large black patch which covered one eye, were at this moment expressive of sardonic cruelty. he was sitting in judgment upon a cordelier, a man of tall and robust build, who was captured in the early morning prowling in the forest. some letters found about his person proved that the tonsured gentleman was a spy of the royalist army, and one of the avengers of israel recognized him as one of the monks who took part in the carnage of mirebeau, where nearly twelve hundred huguenot prisoners were put to death with frightful refinements of cruelty. surrounded by several of his companions, who, like himself, were seated upon the ruins of the altar, the franc-taupin drew his dagger and was engaged in leisurely sharpening it upon a stone that he held between his knees, without looking at the monk who, livid with rage and terror, and standing a few steps aside with his arms tied behind his back, was uttering maledictions at the top of his voice: "accursed and sacrilegious wretches! you abuse your strength! the hand of the lord will fall heavy upon you! heretical dogs!" the franc-taupin calmly sharpened his dagger. "good!" he exclaimed. "be brave, my reverend! disgorge your monastic bile! crack your apostolic hide! it will not make your fate any worse. be prepared for the worst, and you will still be far behind what i have in store for you. we care nothing for your threats." "neither can anything render your fate worse than it will be, reprobates," howled the cordelier, "when the whole pack of you, to the very last one, will be hurled into the pit of everlasting flames!" "by my sister's death!" the franc-taupin answered. "you make a mistake to mention 'flames.' you remind me of what i never forget--the fate of my niece, who, poor innocent creature, was plunged twenty-five times into the burning pyre. brothers, instruct the tonsured fellow upon our reasons for enrolling ourselves in the corps of the avengers of israel, and why we are pitiless." accordingly, while the franc-taupin continued to whet his dagger, one of the huguenot soldiers thus addressed the monk: "monk, listen! in full peace, after the edict of orleans, my house was invaded during my absence by a band of fanatics. the vicar of the parish led them. my old and blind father, who remained at home in my house, was strangled to death. it is to avenge my father that i enrolled myself with the militia of the avengers of israel. therefore, death to the papist church! death to all the tonsured felons!" "marshal montluc held command in guyenne," continued a second huguenot. "six soldiers, attached to his ordnance company, lodged at our farm-house. one day they forced the cellar door, drank themselves drunk, and violated my brother's wife. wounded with cutlass cuts in his endeavor to defend her, he dragged himself bleeding to the headquarters of marshal montluc to demand justice. montluc ordered him to be hanged! monk, i have sworn to avenge my brother! death to the papists!" "i also am from guyenne, like my companion," came from another huguenot. "one sunday, relying upon the edict of longjumeau, i attended services with my mother and sister. a company of marshal montluc's swashbucklers, led by a chaplain, invaded the temple, chased out the women, locked up the men in the building, and set it on fire. there were sixty-five of us inside, all without arms. nine succeeded in making their escape from the flames. the rest, burned, smothered by the smoke, or crushed under the falling roof, all perished. the women and young girls were dragged to a nearby enclosure; they were stripped to the skin; they were then compelled at the point of pikes to dance naked before the papist soldiers; and were finally forced to submit to the lechery of their persecutors. my mother was killed in her endeavor to save my sister from that crowning outrage; nine months later my sister died in childbed of the fruit of her rape. monk, i swore to avenge my sister! i swore to avenge my mother! death to the papist seigneurs and nobles!" "i come from montaland, near limoges," a fourth huguenot proceeded. "three months after the new edict, i attended services with my young son. a band of peasants, led by two carmelites and one dominican, rushed into the temple. my poor boy's head--he was not yet fifteen--was cut off with a scythe, and stuck upon a pole. monk, i swore to avenge my son! death to the whole monastic vermin!" "was it i, perchance, who committed the acts that you are seeking to avenge?" howled the cordelier. "cowardly felons!" at this the franc-taupin interrupted the sharpening of his dagger, cast a sardonic look at the monk, and cried: "oh! oh! this is the seventeenth time i hear that identical remark--you being the seventeenth tonsured gentleman whom i sentence. do you see this little stick? i cut a notch in it at each reprisal. when i shall have reached twenty-five the bill will be settled--my sister's daughter was plunged twenty-five times into the furnace, at the order of the catholic priests, the agents of the pope. "monk, it stands written in the bible: 'life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.'[ ] well, now, instead of burning you, as should be done, i purpose to make you a cardinal." saying this the soldier of fortune described with the point of his dagger a circle around his head. the monk understood the meaning of the frightful pantomime. the avengers of israel threw him down and held him fast at the foot of the altar. the franc-taupin passed his thumb along the edge of his weapon, and sat down upon his haunches beside the patient. at that moment one of the riders rushed precipitately into the chapel, shouting: "a good prize! a good prize! a maid of honor of jezebel!" the arrival of the captive girl suspended the torture of the monk who remained pinioned at the feet of josephin. the franc-taupin rose, and cast a look upon the female captive, who was none other than anna bell. the features of the hardened soldier relaxed, a tremor ran over his frame, he hid his face in his hands and wept. it seemed to him as if he saw in the young captive hena, the poor martyr he so deeply mourned! the otherwise inexorable man remained for a moment steeped in desolate thoughts, in the midst of the profound silence of the avengers of israel. the maid of honor stood cold with fright. she realized she was in the power of the terrible one-eyed man, the ferocity of whom spread terror among the catholics. the franc-taupin passed the back of his hand over his burning and hollow eye, the fierce fire of which seemed kindled into fiercer flame by the tear that had just bathed it. turning with severity to anna bell he ordered her to step nearer: "you are a maid of honor to the queen?" with a trembling voice anna bell replied: "yes, monsieur, i belong to her majesty the queen." "where do you come from?" "from meilleret. tired with travel, i stopped for rest at the village. from there i proceeded on my journey to join the queen.--my guide lost his way. your riders stopped my litter.--have pity upon me and order that i be taken to monsieur the prince of gerolstein. i think i may rely upon his courtesy." "at what hour did you leave meilleret?" "about one this morning." "you lie! it is hardly five o'clock now--you traveled in a litter--it takes more than eight hours to come from meilleret to this place on horseback and riding fast." "monsieur, i conjure you, have me taken to the prince of gerolstein--it is the only favor i entreat of your kindness," cried anna bell, trembling and stammering. struck by the insistence with which the maid of honor requested to be taken to prince franz of gerolstein, the franc-taupin contemplated her with mistrust. suddenly he ordered: "search the woman!" two huguenots executed the order, and extracted from anna bell's pockets a purse, a letter and the gold vial. the franc-taupin opened the letter, the seal of which was broken; read it; looked puzzled over a passage in the missive and remained for a moment thoughtful. but immediately struck by a sudden inspiration, he darted a fierce glance at the maid of honor, examined the gold vial in silence, and holding it up to anna bell, said: "woman, what does that vial contain?" with a great effort, anna bell replied, "i--i--know not." "oh, you know not!" cried the franc-taupin, breaking out in a sardonic guffaw. "miserable creature. you seem to have the audacity of a criminal." he stepped slowly towards the young girl, seized her by the arm, and holding the vial to her lips, cried: "drink it on the spot, or i stab you to death!" anna bell, terror-stricken and fainting, dropped upon her knees, crying: "mercy! mercy! i beg of you, mercy! pity! mercy!" "poisoner!" exclaimed the franc-taupin. the maid of honor crouched still lower upon her knees, hid her face in her hands, and sobbed aloud. the huguenots looked at one another stupefied. again silence reigned. "brothers," said the franc-taupin, breaking the silence, "listen to the letter that you have just taken from this woman's pocket: "a courier from my son charles has arrived from paris, my pet, compelling me to have an immediate conference with the cardinal. i can not see you before your departure. adieu, and courage. you will reach your prince. i forgot one important recommendation to you. the philter must be emptied quickly after the stopper is removed from the vial. "the letter is signed 'c. m.'--catherine de medici! here we have it! the queen sends one of her strumpets to poison franz of gerolstein!" still under the shock of the cowardly assassination of condé, and of the recent deaths by poison of the duke of deux-ponts and the admiral's brother, the huguenots broke out into imprecations. the youth and beauty of the maid of honor only rendered her criminal designs all the more execrable in their eyes. the moment was critical. anna bell made a superhuman effort--a last endeavor to escape the fate that threatened her. she rose on her knees and with clasped hands cried: "mercy! listen to me! i shall confess everything!" "o, hena," cried the franc-taupin with savage exaltation. "poor martyr! i shall avenge your death upon this infamous creature--beautiful like yourself--young like yourself! throw together outside of the chapel the branches that our horses have bared of their leaves. the wood is green--it will burn slowly. we'll tie the poisoner and the monk back to back upon the pyre the instant i have ordained him a cardinal." in chorus the huguenots shouted: "to the pyre with the monk and the poisoner!" anna bell's mind began to wander. livid and shivering she crouched in a heap upon the ground, her voice choked in her throat, already rigid with terror, and escaped only in convulsive sobs. the avengers of israel hurried to heap up the bare branches around a tall oak-tree planted before the portico of the chapel. the franc-taupin stepped towards the cordelier, who muttered in an agonizing voice, "_miserere mei, domine--miserere!_" again the solemnity of ordaining the monk a cardinal was suddenly interrupted. the sound of an approaching and numerous cavalcade reached the avengers of israel. a moment later prince franz of gerolstein appeared at the head of a mounted troop. the personage who now stepped upon the scene was the grandson of charles of gerolstein, who in assisted at the council of the calvinists in the quarry of montmartre, together with christian the printer. the young prince was twenty-five years of age. the short visor of his helmet exposed his features. their regularity and symmetry were perfect; they expressed at once benevolence and resolution. of tall and wiry build, the young man's heavy black cuirass, worn german fashion, and his thick armlets, seemed not to weigh upon him. his wide hose, made of scarlet cloth, were almost overlapped by his long boots of buff leather armed with silver spurs. a wide belt of white taffeta--the protestants' rallying sign--was fastened with a knot on one side. immediately upon entering the chapel the prince addressed the franc-taupin: "comrades, i have just learned that your scouts have arrested one of the queen's maids of honor--" before the franc-taupin had time to answer the prince, anna bell jumped up, ran to franz, and threw herself at his feet, crying: "for mercy's sake, monsieur, deign to hear me!" franz of gerolstein recognized the young girl at once. he reached out his hand to her and made her rise, saying: "i remember to have met you, mademoiselle, at the french court, last year. be comforted. there must be some untoward misunderstanding in regard to you." anna bell in turn seized the prince's hands and covered them with kisses and tears. "i am innocent of the horrible crime that they charge me with!" she cried. "prince," broke in the franc-taupin, "the woman must die! the wretch is a poisoner; she is an emissary of catherine de medici; and you were singled out for her victim. we are about to do justice to the case." "no pity for the prostitutes of the italian woman! none for her messengers of death!" cried several huguenots. but franz of gerolstein interposed, saying: "my friends, i can not believe in the crime that you charge this young girl with. i knew her at the court of france. i often spoke with her. whatever the deplorable reputation of her companions, she is a happy exception among them." "oh! thank you, monsieur," exclaimed anna bell in accents of ineffable gratitude. "thank you, for testifying so warmly in my favor--" "prince, the hypocrite had her mask on when she conversed with you!" insisted the inexorable franc-taupin. "read this letter from the queen. you will learn from it the reason why her maid of honor threw herself intentionally into the hands of our outposts, and immediately requested to be taken to your tent. as to this vial," he turned to anna bell, "does it contain poison, yes or no?" "monsieur, do not allow appearances to deceive you--if you only knew!" cried anna bell, in distress. franz of gerolstein cast upon the maid of honor a frigid look; then, turning away his head, he stepped towards the door of the chapel. anna bell rushed after the prince, fell again at his feet, clasped his knees and cried: "monsieur, do not forsake me! in the name of your mother, deign to listen to me! it is not death i fear--what i fear is your contempt--i am innocent!" the accent of truthfulness often touches the most prejudiced of hearts. moved, despite himself, franz of gerolstein stopped, and looking down upon the maid of honor with pain and pity, said: "i grant your prayer--i wish still to doubt the crime that you are accused of--explain the mystery of your movements." he looked around, and noticing the vestry door that led from one of the aisles of the chapel, he added, "come, mademoiselle, i shall listen to you without witnesses in yonder private place." with an effort anna bell arose, and with staggering steps she followed franz of gerolstein into the vestry. arrived there, the maid of honor collected her thoughts for a moment, and then addressed the young huguenot prince with a trembling voice in these words: "monsieur, before god who hears me--here is the truth: last evening, shortly before midnight, at the abbey of st. severin where the queen halted for rest, she summoned me to her, and after reminding me of all that i owed to her generosity, because," and anna bell broke down weeping, "i am a waif, picked up from the street--out of charity--one of the queen's serving-women bought me about ten years ago, as she informed me, from a bohemian woman who made me beg before the parvise of notre dame in paris--" "how came you to become a maid of honor to catherine de medici?" "the woman who took me in showed me to the queen, and, to my misfortune!--to my disgrace!--the queen interested herself in me!" "to your misfortune? to your disgrace?" "monsieur," answered anna bell as if the words were wrung from her heart, "alas! although barely beyond girlhood, two years ago, thanks to the principles and the instructions that i received, and the examples set to me, my education was perfect and complete, i was found worthy of forming part of the queen's 'flying squadron'!" "i understand you! poor girl!" "that is not all, monsieur. the day came when i was to prove my gratitude to the queen. it happened during the truce in the religious wars. the marquis of solange, although a protestant, often came to court. he was to be detached from his cause, monsieur. he had manifested some inclination towards me. the queen called me apart. 'the marquis of solange loves you,' she said; 'he will sacrifice his faith to you--provided you are not cruel towards him.' i yielded to the pressure from the queen. i had no consciousness of the indignity of my conduct until the day when--" anna bell could proceed no further; she seemed to strangle with confusion, and was purple with shame. suddenly frightful cries, proceeding from the interior of the chapel, startled the oppressive silence in the vestry. the cries were speedily smothered, but again, ever and anon, and despite the gag that suppressed them, they escaped in muffled roars of pain. frightened at these ominous sounds, the maid of honor precipitately took refuge by the prince's side, seeming to implore his protection and muttering amid sobs: "monsieur--do you hear those cries--do you hear the man's moans?" "oh!" answered franz of gerolstein, visibly depressed with grief. "forever accursed be they, who, through their ferocity, were the first to provoke these acts of cruel reprisal!" the moans that reached the vestry gradually changed into muffled and convulsive rattles that grew fainter and fainter. silence prevailed once more. the expiring monk was ordained cardinal by the franc-taupin. "i arrived in time, mademoiselle, to rescue you from the vengeance of those pitiless men," resumed the prince. "the candor of your words would denote the falseness of the accusations raised against you. and yet, this letter from the queen, this vial, would seem to furnish convincing testimony against you." "last evening," anna bell proceeded, "notified by our governess that the queen wished to speak to me, i awaited her orders in a dark corridor that separated my chamber from the queen's apartments. at the very moment i was about to open the door i heard your name mentioned, monsieur. the queen was speaking about you with father lefevre, a priest of the society of jesus, one of the counselors of the king of spain." "to what purpose was my name mentioned by the queen and the jesuit?" "it seems that, in their opinion, monsieur, you are a redoubtable enemy, and the queen promised father lefevre to rid herself of you. one of her maids of honor was to be commissioned to execute the murder through poison. the maid of honor chosen was myself. madam catherine selected me for this horrible deed. frightened at what i had overheard, an involuntary cry of horror escaped me. almost immediately i heard footsteps approach the door of the queen's apartment. luckily i had time to regain my own chamber without being heard or even suspected of having overheard the queen's words. presently she rang for me. the queen began by reminding me of her acts of kindness to me, and added she decided to fulfil the dearest and most secret wishes of my heart. 'anna bell,' she said, 'you no longer love the marquis of solange; you have transferred your affections to the prince of gerolstein, whom you saw at court last year.' take this vial. it contains a philter that makes one beloved. a guide will take you to the outposts of the huguenots; you will fall into their hands; you will then ask to be taken to the prince of gerolstein. he is a nobleman, he will take pity upon you, he will lodge you in his tent. love will inspire you. you will find the opportunity to pour a few drops of this philter into franz of gerolstein's cup--thus you will reach your prince'--and these are the words which the queen repeated to me in her letter." "and guessing that the philter was poison, and fearing to awaken the queen's suspicions, you feigned readiness to accept the mission of death? that, i suppose, is the complement of your story?" "yes, monsieur. i hoped to warn you to be on guard against the dangers that threaten you!" exhausted by so many emotions, and crushed with shame, the poor girl dropped down upon one of the benches in the vestry, hid her face in her hands, and wept convulsively. the revelation, bearing as it did the stamp of irresistible candor, awakened in the heart of franz of gerolstein a deep interest for the ill-starred young woman. "mademoiselle," he said to her in a firm yet kind tone, "i believe in your sincerity--i believe your account of your misfortunes." "now, monsieur, i can die." "dismiss such mournful thoughts--perhaps an unexpected consolation awaits you. owing to certain details that you mentioned concerning your early years, i am almost certain i know your parents. you must have been born at la rochelle, and was not your father an armorer?" "yes!" cried anna bell. "yes! i remember how the sight of glistening arms delighted my eyes in my childhood." "did you not, at the time you were kidnapped from your family, wear any collar or other trinket that you may have preserved?" "i wore around my neck, and have preserved ever since, a little lead medal. i have it here attached to this chain." franz of gerolstein ran to the door of the vestry and called for josephin. the franc-taupin approached, stepping slowly, and engaged in imparting the latest notch to the stick that hung from his cartridge belt: "seventeen! there are still eight wanting before we reach twenty-five! oh! my bill shall be paid, by my sister's death! my bill shall be paid!" franz of gerolstein inquired from the franc-taupin: "what was the age of odelin's child when she was kidnapped!" with a look of surprise the franc-taupin answered: "the poor child was eight years old. it is now ten years since the dear little girl disappeared." "did she wear anything by which she might be identified?" pursued franz. "she wore from her neck," said the franc-taupin with a sigh, "a medal of the church of the desert, like all other protestant children. it was a medal that i presented to her mother the day of the little creature's birth." franz of gerolstein held before the franc-taupin the medal that anna bell had just given him, and said: "do you recognize this medal? josephin, this young girl was kidnapped from her family ten years ago--she carried this medal from her neck--" "oh!" cried the franc-taupin, looking at anna bell with renewed confusion. "she is odelin's daughter! that accounts for my having been from the first struck with her resemblance to hena." "do you, monsieur, know my parents?" it was now anna bell's turn to ask. "pray tell me where i can find them." but overcome with emotion, the franc-taupin said: "but oh! what a shame for the family! what a disgrace! a maid of honor to the queen!" the franc-taupin was quickly drawn from his mixed emotions of sorrow and joy. more important work was soon to be done. an officer entered the vestry, bringing orders from admiral coligny for the vanguards and outposts to fall back without delay toward st. yrieix. franz of gerolstein immediately conveyed the admiral's orders to the avengers of israel, who crowded behind the officer, and then turned to anna bell, saying: "mademoiselle, come; remount your litter. we shall escort you to st. yrieix. i shall impart to you on the road tidings concerning your family--of which i am a member." "what a revelation to odelin--and to antonicq!" the franc-taupin thought to himself, "when they learn within shortly, at st. yrieix, that this unfortunate creature--the disgraced and dishonored maid of honor to the queen is the daughter of the one and the sister of the other!" the avengers of israel and the squadron of german horsemen, with franz of gerolstein at their head, completed their reconnoisance about the forest and fell back upon st. yrieix. the chapel of st. hubert remained deserted and wrapped in silence. the morning breeze swung the body of the monk as it hung limp from a branch of the oak-tree in front of the portico of the holy place. horrible to look at were the features of the corpse. they preserved the impress of the cordelier's last agonies. the skin was ripped from the head. it had the appearance of being covered with a red skull cap. abominable reprisals, without a doubt; and yet less abominable than the crimes of which they record the expiatory vengeance. chapter iv. gaspard of coligny. the burg of st. yrieix stood in the center of the staked-in camp occupied by the army of admiral coligny. an inflexible disciplinarian, admiral coligny maintained rigorous order among his troops. never was pillage allowed; never marauding. his soldiers always paid for all that they demanded from city folks or peasants. he went even further. whenever it happened that, scared at the approach of armed forces, the peasants fled from their villages, the officers, executing the express orders of admiral coligny, left in the houses the price of the vegetables and forage with which the soldiers provisioned themselves and their beasts in the absence of the masters of the place. finally, as a necessary and terrible example--thieves caught redhanded were inexorably hanged, and the stolen objects tied to their feet. finally there never were seen at the huguenot camps the swarms of women of ill fame that ordinarily encumbered the baggage of the catholic army, and that, according to the ancient practice, were placed under the supervision of the "king of the ribalds." the habits of the protestants in the army of admiral coligny were pious, austere and upright. this notwithstanding, the admiral found it impossible to impose rigid discipline upon the numerous bands that from time to time attached themselves to his main forces, usually conducted a guerilla warfare, and emulated the royalists in rapine and cruelty. the admiral, the princes of orange, of nassau and of gerolstein, the sons of the prince of condé who was assassinated upon orders from the duke of anjou, young henry of bearn, besides many other protestant chiefs, occupied several houses at st. yrieix. the ancient priory served as the admiral's quarters. early in the morning, as was his wont, admiral coligny left his lodgings accompanied by his servants, to attend the prayers held in the huguenot camp and called the "prayer of the guard." the officers and soldiers of the admiral's post, together with those of some neighboring ones, filled on these occasions the courtyard of the priory, and standing erect, bareheaded, silent, they awaited in meditation the hour of raising their souls to god. old soldiers grey of beard and seamed with scars; young recruits, barely beyond adolescence; rich noblemen, raised in the spacious halls of castles; field laborers, as well as artisans from the cities, who rallied to the defense of the "church of the desert"--all animated with an ardent faith, would there unite upon the level of evangelical equality. the seigneur, battling side by side with his vassal for the holy cause of freedom of conscience, saw in him only a brother. thus germinated among the protestants the tendencies toward fraternity that were later to cause the distinctions of castes and races, so much prized by royalists, to vanish. a slight murmur, betokening the affection and respect that he inspired, greeted the admiral's arrival. the rude fatigues of many wars had bent his tall and one-time straight figure. his white hair and beard, together with the pallor of his noble visage, now profoundly changed since the death of his brother, who was treacherously poisoned, imparted to the aspect of the supreme chieftain of the protestant armies a venerable and touching expression. encased from his neck down in armor of burnished iron, without any ornament whatever, and half concealed under a flowing cloak of white cloth--the huguenot color--the admiral was bareheaded. beside him stood the brave francis of lanoüe, a young breton nobleman. courage, honor, kindness, were stamped upon his manly and loyal countenance. a sort of steel arm, artistically forged by odelin lebrenn, with the aid of which monsieur lanoüe could guide his horse, replaced the arm that the daring captain had lost in battle. when the murmur that greeted the admiral's arrival subsided, one of the pastors, feron by name, who attended the army, uttered in a benign voice the following short prayer: "our trust lies in god, who made the heavens and the earth. "our father and savior, since it has pleased you, in the midst of the dangers of war, to preserve us last night and until this day, may it please you to cause us to employ it wholly in your service. oh, heavenly father! our brothers rely upon our vigilance. they rely upon us, their defenders. deign by your grace to help us in faithfully fulfilling our charge, without negligence, or cowardice. finally, may it please you, o lord of hosts, to change these calamitous times into happy times where justice and religion shall reign! not then shall we any longer be reduced to the necessity of defending ourselves; then will your holy name be glorified more and more the world over! all these things, o lord, our father! o, good god! we beg of you in the name and by the grace of our savior jesus christ. we pray to you to increase our faith which we now confess, saying: i believe in god the omnipotent father, and in his son the redeemer. "may the blessing of god the father, the grace and the mercy of our lord jesus christ remain and dwell forevermore among us in the communion of the holy ghost. "amen!"[ ] "amen!" responded admiral coligny devoutly and in a grave voice. "amen!" answered the soldiers. the morning prayer had been said. while the admiral was religiously attending morning service in the courtyard at his headquarters, dominic, the servant of his household who was captured shortly before by the royalists, was engaged in executing the crime plotted by the duke of anjou jointly with the captain of his guards. dominic stepped into the chamber of coligny; he moved about cautiously, with eyes and ears alert, watching from all sides whether he was either seen or heard; he approached a table on which, standing beside several scrolls of paper, was an earthen bowl containing a refreshing drink that coligny was in the habit of taking every morning, and which his faithful equerry nicholas mouche always prepared for him. mouche was at the moment at prayers with the admiral, together with the rest of the household servants. dominic purposely did not join his comrades that morning; he figured upon their absence to carry out his nefarious deed. the poisoner took up the earthen bowl to drop the poison in. for an instant he hesitated. brought up in the house of coligny and ever treated by his master with paternal kindness, the thoughts of the wretch for an instant conjured up the past before him. then cupidity stifled pity in the assassin's breast. he took out of his pocket a scent-bag containing some grey powder, shook the contents into the bowl, and stirred it, in order to mix the poison well with the liquid. dominic was placing the bowl back from where he took it when he heard steps approaching. quickly and tremblingly he slid away from the table. it was odelin lebrenn, bringing back the admiral's casque, which was sent to him to repair, it having been bent in the day before by a ball from a large arquebus while the admiral was on a reconnoitering expedition. although serving as a volunteer with his son antonicq in the protestant army, odelin exercised his trade with the help of a portable forge. thirty-three years had elapsed since the day when he returned to paris with master raimbaud. he was now bordering on his forty-eighth year. his beard and hair were grizzled with grey. his features betokened frankness and resolution. odelin had not seen dominic since his capture by the catholics. he now congratulated him heartily upon his escape from the enemy, but remarking the wretch's pallor, he added: "what is the matter, my dear dominic? you look ashy pale." "i do not know--what--you mean--" stammered dominic, saying which the poisoner rushed out precipitately. the hurry of the man's departure, his pallor and flutter, awakened the armorer's suspicion; but these thoughts were quickly crowded out of his mind by the sudden appearance of his son antonicq, who ran in with flustered face and tears in his eyes, crying: "oh, father! come quick! in heaven's name come to the prince of gerolstein who is just back to camp with uncle josephin, the franc-taupin." at this moment, nicholas mouche, the admiral's confidential equerry entered his master's room. not seeing the face of either odelin or his son, both having their backs turned to the door, he cried out in surprise and alarm: "who are you? what are you doing here?" but instantly recognizing the armorer and his son, for whom he entertained warm esteem, he added: "excuse me, my dear lebrenn, i did not recognize you at first. excuse me. you and your son are really members of the household. your presence here need not alarm me for my master's safety." "i brought back monsieur coligny's casque," odelin explained, "and my son came after me. i do not yet know the cause of his excitement. see how flustered his face is! what extraordinary thing has happened, my boy?" "my sister--marguerite--whom we thought lost forever--has been found--" "great god!" "come, father--the prince--and my uncle--will tell you all about it--they will narrate to you the extraordinary affair--" "what!" exclaimed nicholas mouche, looking at odelin. "is the poor child who disappeared so long ago found again! heaven be praised!" "oh, i can not yet believe such a happy thing possible!" said odelin, his heart beating between doubt and hope. "come, father, you will know all!" "adieu!" said the armorer to nicholas, as he followed his son, no less wrought up than the young man. "poor father!" mused the old equerry as he followed odelin with his eyes. "provided only he is not running after some cruel disappointment!" approaching his master's writing table to assure himself that the admiral was supplied with ink, nicholas's eyes fell upon the earthen bowl. he noticed that it was full to the brim--untouched. "monsieur the admiral has not taken a single mouthful of his chicory water! truth to say, in point of taking care of himself, the dear old hero is as thoughtless as a child! but here he is! he shall not escape a lecture;" and addressing coligny, who now returned to his room after prayers, the equerry said in a tone of familiar reproach that his long years of service justified: "well, monsieur admiral; what about your chicory water! the bowl is as full as when i brought it in early this morning--" "that is so," answered coligny with a smile. "the trouble lies with you. you make the drink so frightfully bitter that i postpone all i can the hour of gulping it down." "that is an odd reason, monsieur admiral! is not the bitterness of the drink the very thing that gives it virtue? monsieur, you are going to drink it now--on the spot--and before me!" "come, let us compromise--i promise you that the bowl shall be empty within the next hour. are the horses saddled and bridled?" "yes, monsieur. if we ride out this morning i shall bring along julien the basque and dominic to take charge of your relay horses. the poor fellow dominic, despite the mishap of the day before yesterday, which might have cost him dear, begged me this morning to choose him as one of the footmen to accompany you to-day, if there is to be any engagement." "dominic is a worthy servant." "what else should he be? was he not brought up in your house, monsieur, and the son of one of your oldest servants, the worthy forester of the woods of chatillon?" "oh, my dear house of chatillon, my meadows, my woods, my vines, my grain fields, my thrifty laborers--am i ever to see you again?" remarked coligny with a melancholic sigh. "oh, the country life! the family life!" the admiral remained in silent meditation for a moment, then he added: "leave me alone. i have some writing to do." the equerry left the room. monsieur coligny stepped slowly towards the table, drew a campstool near, and sat down upon it. with his forehead resting on his hand he remained long lost in revery, musing to himself: "why should this thought have come to me to-day, more than any other day? i know not. god inspires me. let us listen to his warnings. at any rate, it is well to have our accounts clear with heaven. besides, it is my duty to answer before god and men the accusations that are preferred against me. it is my duty to answer the capital and defaming sentence that has been hurled against me and mine." taking a scroll from the table, the admiral read: "as the principal author of and leader in the conspiracy and rebellion gotten up against the king and his state, the said sieur of coligny is sentenced to be hanged and strangled upon the greve square, and subsequently to be exposed from the gibbet of montfaucon. his goods revert to and are confiscate by the king. his children are declared forfeit of their noble rank, infamous, and disqualified from holding office or owning any property in the kingdom. fifty thousand gold ecus are promised to whomsoever will deliver the said sieur of coligny, dead or alive. the children of his brother dandelot are likewise declared infamous." coligny flung back upon the table the scroll containing the extract of the royal decree, registered in the parliament of paris on may , , and raising his tearful eyes heavenward, exclaimed in accents of profound grief: "my poor and good brother! they killed you treacherously by poison! your children are orphans, with none but myself for their support--and now a price is set upon my own life! to-day, to-morrow, in battle, or otherwise, god may call me to him! oh, let me at least carry with me the consolation that my own and my brother's orphans will remain entrusted to worthy hands!" coligny remained long absorbed in meditation. he then took a sheet of paper, a pen, and again concentrating his thoughts, proceeded to write his testament:[ ] of all his creatures, god has created man the most worthy. accordingly, it is man's duty, during his life, to do all he can to glorify the lord, render evidence of his faith, set a good example to his fellows, and, to the extent of his powers, leave his children in comfort, if it has pleased god to afford him any. although our days are numbered before god, nothing is more uncertain than the hour when it will please him to call us away. we must keep ourselves so well prepared that we may not be taken by surprise. for this reason i have decided to draw up the present writing, in order that those who may remain behind me, may hear my intentions and know my wishes. in the first place, after invoking the name of god, i make to him a summary confession of my faith, imploring him that the same may serve me at the hour when it shall please him to call me away, because he knows that i make this confession with my heart and affection, and in the full sincerity of my soul. i believe in what is contained in the old and the new testament, as being the true word of god, to which and from which nothing may be added or taken away, as it orders us. lastly, i seek in jesus christ and through him alone my salvation and the remission of my sins, according as he has promised. i subscribe to the confession of faith of the reformed church in this kingdom. i wish to live and die in this faith, judging myself happy, indeed, if i must suffer on that account. i know i am accused of having attempted against the life of the king, of the queen, and of messeigneurs the king's brothers; i protest before god that i never had the wish or the intention of doing so. i am also accused of ambition, on account of my having taken up arms with the reformers; i protest that only the interest of religion, and the necessity of defending my own life and the lives of my family made me take up arms. upon this head i confess that my greatest guilt lies in not having resented the injustices and the murders perpetrated upon my brothers. i had to be driven to take up arms by the dangers and the plots of which i myself was the object. but i also say it before god, i have endeavored by all means available to pacify, fearing nothing so much as civil war, and foreseeing that the same would carry in its wake the ruin of this kingdom, whose preservation i have ever desired. i write this because, ignorant of the hour when it will please god to call me away, i do not wish to leave my children with the brand of infamy and rebellion. i have taken up arms, not against the king, but against those whose tyranny compelled the reformers to defend their lives. i knew in my heart that they often acted against the wishes of the king, according to several letters and instructions that prove the fact. i know i must appear before the throne of god and there receive judgment. may he condemn me if i lie when i say that my warmest desire is to see the king served in all purity, obedient to his orders, and that the kingdom of france be preserved. on these conditions i would gladly forget all that concerns me personally--injuries, insults, outrages, confiscation of my estates--provided the glory of god and public tranquility are assured. to that end i am determined to occupy myself to my last breath. i wish this to be known, in order not to leave a wrong impression concerning myself after my death. i request and order that my children be always brought up to the love and fear of god; that they continue their studies up to the age of fifteen, without interruption. i hold those years to be better employed in that manner than if they are sent to a court, or placed in the suite of some seigneur. above all do i request their tutors never to allow them to keep bad or vicious company. we are all too much inclined to evil, by our own nature. i request that my children be frequently reminded of this, in order that they may know that such is my desire, as i have often expressed it to them myself. i request that my children be brought up with those of my brother dandelot, as he himself expressed in his testament the wish that they should be. that the ones and the others take for their example the warm and fraternal friendship that always existed between my brother and myself. loving all my children equally, i expect that each will receive as my successors that which is accorded to them by the usages of the country where my estates are situated (if the confiscation with which they are attainted cease). i request that the jewelry belonging to my deceased wife be equally divided between my two daughters. i desire that my eldest son take the name of chatillon; gaspard, my second son, the name of dandelot; and charles, the third, that of la breteche. i request madam dandelot, my sister-in-law, to keep near her my two daughters, so long as she may remain in widowhood. should she marry again, i request madam la rochefoucauld, my niece, to take charge of them. having learned that they burned down the college founded by me at chatillon, i desire and expect that it be re-built, because it is a public good with the aid of which god may be honored and glorified. i order that my servants and pensioners be paid all that may be due to them on the day of my decease, and do grant them, besides, a year's wages. in recognition of my great satisfaction with lagrele, the preceptor of my children, for the care he has bestowed upon them, i bequeath to him one thousand francs. to nicholas mouche and his wife joan, in reward of their good offices to me and my deceased wife, i bequeath five hundred francs, and an annual stipend of seventeen measures of wheat during their lives, because they have so many children. when it shall please god to call me away, i desire, if it be possible, that my body be taken to my chatillon home, to be there interred beside my wife, without any funeral pomp or other ceremony than that of the reformed religion. and in order that the above provisions be carried out, i request monsieur the count of chatillon, my brother; monsieur la rochefoucauld, my nephew; and messieurs lanoüe and saragosse, to be the executors of these my last wishes. above all do i recommend to them _the education and instruction of my children_. i consecrate them to the service of god, entreating them to cause my children always to deport and guide themselves by his holy spirit, and to so behave that their actions contribute to his glory, to the public welfare, and to the pacification of the kingdom. i pray to god to be pleased with the benediction that i bestow upon my children, to the end of attracting upon them the blessing of heaven. as to myself, offering to the lord the sacrifice of jesus christ in the redemption of my sins, i pray to him that he may receive my soul and grant to it the blessed and eternal life that awaits the resurrection of the body. finally, i request messieurs la rochefoucauld, saragosse and lanoüe, to be the tutors and guardians of my children. coligny was just finishing this testament, every line of which breathed sincerity, straightforwardness, wisdom, modesty, the tenderest of domestic virtues, faith in the holiness of his cause, love for france, and horror of civil war, when monsieur lanoüe entered the room with indignation stamped upon his features. he held an open letter in his hand, and was about to address coligny, when the admiral forestalled him, saying: "my friend, i have just written your name at the foot of my testament, requesting you and monsieur la rochefoucauld kindly to accept the office of guardians to my children, and those of my brother;" and extending his hand to lanoüe: "you accept, do you not, this mark of my friendship and confidence? brought up under your eyes, my nephews and my children, if it please god, will be honorable men and women." "monsieur," answered lanoüe with profound emotion, "in heart, at least, i shall be worthy of the sacred mission that you honor me with." "may people some day be able to say of my children and nephews: 'they have the virtues of lanoüe!' god will then have granted my last prayer. i entrust this testament to your hands, my friend. keep it safe." "it is not sealed, monsieur." "both my friends and my enemies are free to read it. what a man says to god men may hear," replied the admiral with ancient loftiness. "here i am now, settled with myself," the noble soldier proceeded to say; "now let us consider the military preparations for the day." "oh, what a war!" cried lanoüe. "no, it is war no longer; it is treachery; it is assassination! i have a letter from paris. they send me a copy of a missive to the duke of alençon from his brother, in the maurevert affair." "the cowardly assassin of mouy?" "yes, the cowardly assassin maurevert, who came to our camp with the mask of friendship, and who, profiting by the darkness of night and the defenselessness of mouy asleep, stabbed him to death, and immediately took flight. listen, admiral, listen now to this! this is what charles ix, the present king of france, writes to his brother: "to my brother the duke of alençon. "my brother, in reward for the signal service rendered to me by charles of louvier, sieur of maurevert, the bearer of these presents, it being he who killed mouy, _in the way that he will narrate to you_, i request you, my brother, to bestow upon him the collar of my order, he being chosen and elected by the brothers of the said order a member of the same; and furthermore to see to it that he, the said maurevert, be gratified by the denizens and residents of my good city of paris _with some worthy present_ in keeping with his deserts, while i pray god, my brother, that he keep you under his holy and worthy protection. "done at plessis-les-tours, the st day of june, . "your good brother "charles."[ ] the admiral listened stupefied. "never," observed lanoüe after reading the royal schedule, "never yet was the glorification of assassination carried further than this! oh, monsieur admiral, you often made the remark--'you, as well as i and so many others, are attached by heart and principle, if not to the king, still to the crown.' but this house of valois will yet cover itself with so many crimes that it will inspire hatred for monarchy. do we not already see springing up the desire for a federal republic, like the federated swiss cantons? the desire already has spread among many men of honorable purposes, and it gains new supporters every day." nicholas mouche appeared at this moment at the threshold of the door. "i wager," he said to himself, "that the wholesome drink of chicory water still lies forgotten." and approaching his master, he added: "well, monsieur admiral, the hour has elapsed!" "what hour?" asked coligny, whose thoughts were absorbed in the painful reminiscences awakened by lanoüe's words, "what do you mean?" "your morning drink!" answered the trusty equerry; and turning from his master: "monsieur lanoüe, i entreat you; join me in making the admiral listen to reason. he knows that his surgeon, monsieur ambroise paré, strongly recommended to him chicory water when in the field, because the admiral often is twelve and fifteen hours at a stretch on horseback, without once taking off his boots. well, he refuses to follow the orders of his physician." "you hear the complaint of your worthy servant, monsieur admiral," remarked lanoüe smiling. "i agree with him; he is right. you should follow the orders of master ambroise paré." "come, come--it shall be as monsieur nicholas wishes," said coligny, taking the bowl from the table. he looked at the greenish color of the decoction with visible repugnance, and carried the bowl to his lips. at that very instant odelin lebrenn rushed into the chamber, dashed the earthen vessel from coligny's hands and crushed it under his feet, crying: "thank god! i arrived in time!" lanoüe, nicholas mouche and coligny were stupefied. breathless with excitement and winded from a long and rapid run, odelin lebrenn leaned with one hand against the table. he made a sign that he wished to speak but could not yet. finally he stammered out: "a second later--and monsieur coligny would have been poisoned--by the potion--he was about--to drink!" "great god!" cried lanoüe, growing pale, while nicholas mouche trembled like an aspen leaf as he looked at his master. "explain yourself, monsieur lebrenn!" commanded the admiral. "this morning, when you were away from the room with your servants at prayer, i came in to bring back your casque. i found dominic here." "that is so," said nicholas mouche; "he did not go to prayer with the rest." "without being surprised at finding dominic in his master's room," odelin proceeded, "i noticed, notwithstanding, that he was pale and confused. later, god be blessed, i recalled the circumstance that, as i came in, i saw him quickly step away from the table on which stood the vessel which, as nicholas afterwards told me, held the drink you take every morning, monsieur admiral. into that drink, into that chicory water, dominic dropped the poison." "he!" exclaimed coligny, horrified. "impossible! a servant raised under my own roof since his early childhood!" "oh, the wretch!" cried nicholas mouche. "this morning, seeing me prepare the potion, dominic asked me to let him attend to the matter. i saw in that only a warning to be careful." "my god!" put in lanoüe, who had remained dumb with horror and indignation. "providence can allow such crimes, only to inspire the world with execration for their perpetrators. can such wickedness be, monsieur lebrenn?" "dominic has confessed all. the instigators of the murder are the duke of anjou and the count of la riviere, a captain of the duke's guards. the temptation of a vast sum decided the assassin to undertake the deed." "oh, catherine de medici, your children approve themselves worthy of you! they emulate the example you have set them!" exclaimed lanoüe. "but how did you discover the crime, monsieur lebrenn? tell us." "what i noticed this morning would have awakened my suspicions on the spot, were it not for the hurried arrival of my son and the tidings he brought me. i followed him in a great hurry. as we were passing by the inn that lies not far from my place and where the horses of monsieur coligny are stabled, i saw dominic come out, riding bareback. his nag bore evidence of having been bridled in great haste. dominic departed at a gallop. the man's frightened looks and his hurry to get off revived my first suspicions. i ran after him calling out: 'hold him!' 'hold him!' my uncle, the franc-taupin, together with some others of his men, happened to be in the wretch's way. they jumped at the bridle of his horse, and held him fast. as i caught up with them i shouted to him point-blank: 'you poisoned the admiral!' surprise, fear and remorse immediately drew from him a full confession of his crime. 'it is true,' he answered. 'i repent it. the duke of anjou offered me a large sum to poison my master--i yielded--the poison was handed to me--and i returned to camp in order to commit the murder.' the instant i heard this, i ran hither, leaving dominic in the care of my son." "monsieur lebrenn," said coligny, grasping odelin's hands with warmth, "it is thirty and odd years ago that i met your worthy father at one of the first councils of the reformers on montmartre. i was then quite young, while your father, an artisan employed at the printing establishment of robert estienne already had rendered valiant services to the cause. it is sweet to me to owe my life to you--to you, his worthy son." "the cannon!" suddenly called out lanoüe, listening to a muffled and rumbling sound that came from afar, carried into the room by the early morning breeze, "it is the rumbling sound of approaching cannon wheels. the detonations succeed each other rapidly." "nicholas," said coligny, without indicating any surprise, "look at my pocket-watch. it must now be nearly ten o'clock." "yes, monsieur," answered the equerry after consulting the watch; "it is nearly ten." "la rochefoucauld has executed my orders punctually. it shall not be long before we shall see one of his officers arrive. lanoüe, let us be ready to jump on horseback." and turning to his equerry: "order the horses brought to the door of the priory. monsieur lebrenn, i count upon having your son at my side, as usual in action, to carry my orders." "here he is, monsieur," answered odelin as antonicq entered. "where is the wretch, my son?" "father, he repeated his confession, again accusing the duke of anjou and the captain of the duke's guards with having driven him to the commission of the crime, which he seemed deeply to repent. the exasperated soldiers executed instant justice upon the poisoner. they hanged him. his corpse is now swinging from the branch of an oak."[ ] at this moment a huguenot officer covered with dust appeared at the threshold of the door. monsieur coligny said to him: "i was waiting for you. is the skirmish opened? are all doing their duty well?" "yes, monsieur. a few companies of the royal army answered our attack, and have crossed the stream that covered their front." "monsieur la rochefoucauld must have feigned a retreat towards the hill of haut moulin, behind which are massed the twenty cavalry squadrons of the prince of gerolstein. have all my orders been executed?" "yes, monsieur. at the very moment that he despatched me to you, monsieur la rochefoucauld was executing the retreat. the prince was in command of his cavalry. all the forces are in line of battle." "all goes well," observed coligny to lanoüe; "i ordered the prince's squadrons not to dismask and charge until the royal troops, drawn into disorder by their pursuit of our men, shall have arrived at the foot of the hill. we may expect a good result." "monsieur la rochefoucauld also ordered me to make an important communication to you. from some royalist prisoners we learned this morning that the queen and the cardinal arrived in the camp of the duke of anjou." upon hearing of catherine de medici's arrival, the admiral reflected for an instant, then drew near the table, dashed a few words down on a sheet of paper and handed it to the officer, saying: "monsieur, return at your fastest, and deliver this order to monsieur la rochefoucauld." and addressing lanoüe as the officer left on the wings of the wind on his errand: "the presence of the queen in the royal camp may suggest to marshal tavannes the idea of engaging in a decisive action. come, my friend," he added, leaving the chamber, "i wish to consult with the princes of orange and nassau before taking horse." chapter v. family flotsam. almost immediately upon the arrival of monsieur la rochefoucauld's aide at the admiral's quarters, odelin lebrenn and antonicq hastened to reach their lodgings, where anna bell awaited them. the meeting between father and daughter was delayed through the discovery of the crime that coligny was to be the victim of. odelin lebrenn had set up his armorer's establishment on the ground floor of a house in st. yrieix which the inhabitants had abandoned. franz of gerolstein, together with several noblemen of his suite and their pages, occupied a set of rooms on the floor above, below them being also the quarters of odelin, his son and the franc-taupin. a straw couch, large enough to accommodate the three, stood at the rear of the apartment. near a wide, open fireplace lay the hammers, the anvil and the portable forge requisite for the armorer's work. day was now far advanced. since morning anna bell had not left the lodging. seated on a wooden bench, and her head reclined upon her hands, she expectantly turned her ears from time to time toward the street. the recent agonizing bustle of the camp was now followed by solitude and silence. all the troops, a few companies excepted that were left in charge of the baggage, had marched out beyond the burg and its entrenchments, in order to form in battle array about one league from the admiral's headquarters, he having prepared for a possible general engagement. odelin lebrenn's first interview with anna bell was both tender and painful. the father found again his daughter, once dearly beloved and long wept as lost. but he found her soiled with the title of maid of honor of catherine de medici! with distressing frankness the wretched girl confessed to her father the disorders of her past life. anna bell was just finishing her narrative when the general call to arms resounded. antonicq went to his post beside monsieur coligny, after listening to the revelations of his sister; a few minutes later odelin also, yielding to the imperious voice of duty, left his weeping daughter, to join the cavalry squadron in which he served as volunteer. left alone, anna bell fell a prey to cruel anxieties. her father, her brother and franz of gerolstein were about to run the dangers of a battle. the confession wrung from her lips by a terrific necessity seemed to render all the more profound, all the more grievous the love of the young girl for the prince. now less than ever did she expect her affection to be returned. still she experienced a sort of bitter consolation in the thought that franz of gerolstein was no longer ignorant of her passionate devotion, and that, in order to save him from poison, she risked her own life. the chaos of distressing thoughts, now rendered all the more painful by her uneasiness for those whom she loved, plunged anna bell into inexpressible agony. she counted the hours with increasing anxiety. toward night the roll of drums and blare of trumpets resounded from afar. the young girl trembled and listened. presently she could distinguish the approaching tramp of horses' hoofs, and not long thereafter she heard them stop before the lodging. running to the door, she opened it in the hope of seeing her brother and father. instead, she saw a page in the livery of the prince of gerolstein holding a second horse by the reins. "monsieur," asked anna bell anxiously of the lad, "what news of the battle?" "there was no battle, mademoiselle, only a lively engagement of outposts. the royalists were worsted," and swallowing a sigh, while tears appeared in his eyes, he added, "but unfortunately my poor comrade wilhelm, one of the prince of gerolstein's pages, was killed in the skirmish. i am leading back his horse." "and the prince?" inquired anna bell, nervously. "he has not been wounded?" "no, mademoiselle. i am riding ahead of monsieur; he is returning with his squadrons," answered the page, alighting from his horse, and his sighs and sobs redoubled, while the tears rolled down his cheeks. at ease on the score of franz of gerolstein's life, anna bell had some words of consolation for the afflicted page. "i am sorry for you," she said; "to lose a friend at your age." "oh, mademoiselle. i loved him so dearly--he died so valiantly! an arquebusier was taking aim at the prince. wilhelm threw himself in front and received the ball in his chest. he dropped, never to rise again." "generous lad!" exclaimed anna bell, and silently she thought: "to die for franz! under his own eyes. that is a death to be envied!" "poor wilhelm!" continued the page sadly, "his last words were for his mother. he asked me, if ever i return home again, to carry to her a sash that she embroidered for him, and which he left at our lodging together with his gala suit." the lad's words seemed to have suggested an unexpected line of thought to anna bell, when she suddenly saw odelin from a distance, returning at full gallop in the company of other horsemen. she cried: "there is father! thank god, he is not wounded. but where is brother?" not daring, out of a sense of modesty, to be seen by the strangers who accompanied her father, anna bell stepped back into the room. odelin led his horse to a stable where also the horses of franz of gerolstein were kept, and hastened back to join his daughter in the house. the girl ran to him, kissed his hands respectfully several times, and said: "thank heaven, father, you are safe and sound--but brother, dear antonicq, did he also come off scathless?" "you may feel at ease," answered odelin, embracing his daughter, "antonicq is not wounded. together with other volunteers he is escorting a number of prisoners to places of safety in the camp. poor child, great must have been your anxiety since i left you. come to your father's arms!" "oh, i counted the hours--the minutes--" "let me embrace you again--and yet again," said odelin with tears in his eyes, and fondly holding her in his arms. "oh, divine power of happiness! it brings with it the balm of forgetfulness of the past! i have found you again--dear child! in one day, years of sorrow are blotted out!" hardly able to repress her tears, anna bell responded unrestrainedly to odelin's caresses. his ineffable clemency was not belied. "father," she said, "would you have me disarm you while we wait for antonicq? your cuirass must tire you. let me unbuckle it." "thank you, child," the armorer answered, as he stepped to a lanthorn that hung from the wall, and lighted the same to dispel the shadows that began to invade the apartment. he then took off his casque, loosened his belt, and returned to his daughter: "but i shall remain armed. the admiral issued orders that the troops rest a few hours, take supper, and hold themselves ready to march at a minute's notice." "my god--is there another battle pending?" "i do not know the projects of admiral coligny; all i know--and that is all that is of importance to me--i know we have a few hours to ourselves. sit down there, dear child, so that the light of the lanthorn may fall upon your face--i wish to behold you at my leisure. this morning tears darkened my eyes almost continuously." and after contemplating anna bell for a while with tender and silent curiosity, odelin resumed: "yes, your sweet beauty is such as your charming little girl's face gave promise of. oh! how often did i not leave my anvil and drop my hammer to fondle your blonde head! your hair has grown darker. in your infancy you were as blonde as my sister hena. many a line in your face recalls hers. she and i resembled each other. but your beautiful brown and velvety eyes have remained the same--neither in color nor shape have they changed. i find the dimple still on your chin, and the two little ones on your cheeks each time you laughed, they also are still there--and you were always laughing--my dear, dear child!" "oh! how happy those days must have been to me!" murmured the young girl, as she recalled with bitter sorrow the hours of her innocent childhood. "i then was near you, father, and near mother--and besides--" anna bell could not finish the sentence. the distressed girl broke down sobbing. "heaven and earth!" cried up the armorer, whose features, shortly before illumined with happiness, now were overcast with grief. "to think that you had to beg your bread! my poor child--perhaps beaten by the gypsy woman who kidnapped you from the loving paternal roof!" "father," replied the poor girl with a look of profound grief, "those days of misery were not my worst days. oh, that i had always remained a beggar!" "i understand your thoughts, unhappy child! let us drop those sad recollections!" and stamping the floor furiously odelin added: "oh, infamous queen! thou art the monster who debauched my child! a curse upon thee and thy execrable brood!" after a painful silence, odelin proceeded abruptly: "do! i conjure you! let us never again return to the past. let us endeavor to bury it in everlasting oblivion!" "alas, father, even if your clemency were to forget, my conscience will ever remember. it will every day remind me that i am a disgrace to my family. oh, god! my cheeks tingle with shame at the bare thought of meeting my sister--and mother!" "your mother! you know not the depths of a mother's love, indulgence and compassion. you return to her soiled, but repentant, and your mother will forgive. besides, you are not guilty--you are the victim of, not the accomplice in, your past life. your heart has remained pure, your instincts honest and lofty; your tears, your remorse, your apprehensions prove it to me. no, no! be not afraid. your mother and sister will receive you with joy, with confidence. i am certain henceforth your life will be ours, pure, modest, industrious! oh, i know it--it is only that that causes my heart to bleed, and my pity for you to redouble; you are never to experience the austere yet sweet joys of a wife--and a mother!" odelin remained for a moment steeped in silent rumination. after a pause he proceeded: "it is the severe punishment for a sin that it is allowed to none but your own family to absolve you of. but your sister's children will be your own. your brother also is to marry. cornelia, his sweetheart, is worthy of our affection. you will silence the cravings of your own heart in loving their children as you would have done your own. they will also love you. you will spend your life near them and us. come, take a father's word for it--the domestic hearth is an inexhaustible source of consolation for the sorrowful--an inexhaustible source of sweet joys and healthy pleasures." these warm and affectionate words moved anna bell so profoundly that, dropping down upon her knees before her father, she covered his hands and face with kisses and tears; and raising her eyes up to him, and contemplating him with a kind of respectful admiration, "oh, father!" she exclaimed, "living image of god! your goodness and compassion are like only unto his!" "because you suffer, my poor child," replied odelin, his eyes moist with tears. and raising his daughter from the floor and placing her beside him, he put his arm around her and covered her with renewed caresses. "it is because you are to suffer still more--it is because you love--it is because you are bound to love--and without hope!" the armorer proceeded with solemnity. "only this once, and never again shall i mention this painful love. if i, your father, touch upon such a subject with you, the reason is that it is impossible for me to blame the choice of your heart. franz of gerolstein, by the strength of his character, the generosity of his sentiments, the loftiness of his whole life, deserves to be loved passionately. alas, but for that unhappy past, your love needed not be hopeless. only a few hours ago, speaking about you at a halt made by our troops, franz of gerolstein remarked to me: 'oh, that honor, the only barrier i may never leap, should separate me forever from your daughter!' it was not a hollow consolation the prince was offering me. i know franz's contempt for distinctions of rank. moreover we are of the same blood, our family comes from one stock; but that fatal past--that is the unbridgeable abyss that separates us forever from the prince. that is why you inspire me with so much pity. yes, you are all the more endeared to me because you suffer, and by reason of your future sufferings, poor dear child, so guiltless of the sins you have committed!" added odelin with renewed tenderness. "but be brave, be brave, my child! your hopeless love is at least honorable and pure; you can nourish it without shame, in the secret recesses of your heart. i shall say not another word upon that ill-starred passion. when you are back among us and, although surrounded by our affection, i shall see you at times lost in revery, sad, and moist of eye, believe me, poor distressed soul, your father will sympathize with your grief; each tear you drop will fall upon my heart." odelin was uttering these last words when his son hurried into the apartment, looking sad and even bewildered. anna bell jumped up to meet the young man, saying: "thank god, brother, i see you back safe and sound!" such was the preoccupation of antonicq that, without answering his sister, without taking notice of her, and even gently pushing her aside, he approached his father, and taking him apart to the other end of the room, spoke to him in a low and excited voice. painfully affected at seeing herself pushed out of the way by her brother, who seemed to have neither a word nor a look for her in response to the gladness that she expressed at his safe return from battle, the young girl imagined herself despised by him. "alas!" thought the maid of honor, "my brother will not forgive my past life; only a father's heart is capable of indulgence. great god! if my sister, my mother, were also to receive me with such disdain--perchance aversion! i would rather die than expose myself to such treatment!" antonicq continued to speak with his father in a low voice. suddenly odelin seemed to shudder, and hid his face in his hands. profound silence ensued. anna bell, more and more the prey of the shyness and mistrust that conscious guilt inspires in a repentant soul, imagined herself the subject of the mysterious conversation between her father and brother. odelin's features, lowering and angry, betokened disgust and indignation. the words escaped him: "and yet, despite such revolting horrors, i am bound to him by a sacred bond! oh, a curse upon the day that brought us together again! a curse upon the fatal discovery! but once i shall have fulfilled that last duty, may heaven ever after deliver me of his hated presence! listen," added the armorer, and again lowering his voice, he spoke to his son with intense earnestness, closing with the statement: "such is my plan!" the conversation was again renewed in undertones between father and son. anna bell had caught only fragments of her father's remarks. she was convinced they spoke of her--and yet, only a minute before, odelin was so lovingly indulgent towards his erring daughter. in vain did the young girl seek to fathom the cause of so sudden a change. what could the fatal discovery be that antonicq had just imparted to his father, and seemed suddenly to incite his indignation and anger? did she not lay her past life bare to her father in all sincerity of heart? what could she be accused of that she had not voluntarily confessed? a prey to profound anxiety, the young girl's heart sank within her; her limbs trembled as she saw her father hurriedly take up his sword and casque, and make ready to leave with antonicq. the young man stepped to the couch of straw and pulled out of it a long, wide cloak of a brown material with a scarlet hood attached, such as was common among the rochelois,[ ] and helped his father to wrap himself in it over his armor; odelin then put on his casque, threw the hood over it, and, without either look or word to his daughter, who, trembling and with frightened eyes followed his movements, went out, followed by his son. long did anna bell weep. when her tears ran dry, the young girl turned her face to the future with sinister resolution. she considered herself an object of disgust and aversion to her brother and father. forsaken by them, an unbridgeable abyss--honor--separated her forever from franz of gerolstein. nothing was left but to die. suddenly a flash of joy lightened her eyes, red with recent tears. she rose, stood erect, and looking about said: "yes, to die. but to die under franz's eyes--to die for him, like the young page killed this very day by throwing himself in the path of the bullet that was to fell his master. the army is to return to battle. the clothes, the horse of the page who was killed to-day are all here!" as these thoughts seethed in her mind, anna bell's eyes fell upon some sheets of paper, a pen and ink in a broken cup lying on the mantlepiece. the girl took them down with a sigh: "oh, father! oh, brother! despite your contempt and aversion, my last thoughts will be of you!" * * * * * hervé lebrenn, the incestuous wretch who raised a matricidal hand against his mother, fra hervé, the cordelier, as he was called in the royal army, deserved but too well the reputation for a fiery preacher and leader of implacable sectarians. his sermons, lighted by a savage style of eloquence, and coupled to acts of ferocity in battle, inspired the catholics with fanatic admiration. wounded and made a prisoner in the course of the engagement of that day, he was taken pinioned to st. yrieix and locked up in a dark cellar. the cellar door opened. the light of a lanthorn partially dispelled the gloom of the subterranean cell. seated on the ground with his shoulders against the wall, fra hervé saw a man enter, wrapped in a brown mantle, the scarlet hood of which, being wholly thrown over his head, concealed the face of the nocturnal visitor. the visitor was odelin lebrenn. he closed the door behind him, placed the lanthorn on the floor, and almost convulsed with wracking emotions, silently contemplated his brother, who had not yet recognized him. odelin saw him now for the first time since the day when, still a lad returning from italy with master raimbaud, the armorer, he involuntarily witnessed the torture and death of his sister hena and brother st. ernest-martyr. hervé also attended the solemnity of his sister's execution, in the company of fra girard, his evil genius. odelin lebrenn looked with mute horror upon his imprisoned brother. the lanthorn, placed upon the floor, threw upward a bright light streaked with hard, black shadows upon the cadaverous, ascetic and haggard features of hervé. his large, bald forehead, yellow and dirty, was tied in a blood-stained bandage. the blood had flowed down from his wound, dried up on one of his protruding cheek bones, and coagulated in the hairs of his thick and matted beard. his brown and threadbare coat, patched up in a score of places, was held around his waist by a cord from which hung a chaplet of arquebus balls with a small crucifix of lead. rusty iron spurs were fastened with leather straps to his muddy feet, shod in sandals. fra hervé, unable to distinguish his brother's face, shadowed as it was by the hood of the mantle, turned his head slowly towards the visitor, and kneeling down with an expression of gloomy disdain, said in a hollow voice: "is it death? i am ready!" the cordelier thereupon bowed down his large bald head, and raising his fettered hands towards the roof of the cellar muttered in a low voice the funeral invocation of the dying. odelin threw back his hood, took up the lanthorn, and held it so as to throw a clear light upon his face. "brother!" he called out to the monk in a voice that betrayed his profound emotion. "i am odelin lebrenn!" without rising from his knees, fra hervé threw himself back, and examined for a moment the face of odelin. at length he recognized him, and, a sudden flash of hatred illumining his hollow eyes and an infernal smile curling his livid lips, he cried: "god has sent you! i shall spit out the truth into the face of the apostate! oh, that your father were also here!" "respect his memory--our father is dead!" "did he die impenitent?" "he died in his faith!" "he died damned!" replied fra hervé with a savage guffaw. "everlastingly damned! the corruptor of my youth! the heretical leper! the sink of pestilence! damned along with his wife! it was thy will, oh, god! in thy wrath thou didst so decree it. the flames of hell will be doubly hot to them! forever and ever will they be face to face with the spectacle of their daughter, damned through their acts, and damned like themselves, writhing in the midst of everlasting fires!" "do not take upon your lips the names of our sister, the poor martyr, or of our mother, you wretched fanatic, author of all their sufferings!" "'our' mother! 'our' father! 'our' sister!" echoed back the monk, with an outburst of sardonic laughter. "look at the renegate! he dares invoke bonds that are snapped, and are abhorred! man--i have no father but the vicar of christ! no mother but the church! no brothers but faithful catholics. outside of that holy family--holy, thrice holy!--i see only savage beasts, bent in their demoniacal rage upon tearing into shreds the sacred body of my holy mother! and i kill them! i throttle them! i immolate them to god, the avenger! oh, how i grieve to think that you did not fall, like the likes of you, under my heavy iron crucifix, which the holy father blessed! what more beautiful holocaust could i offer to the implacable anger of the lord, than to say to him as abraham did on the mountain: 'lord! may the vapor of this blood rise to your nostrils. this blood is twofold expiatory! it is my blood, it is the blood of my family!'" "blood! always blood!" echoed odelin, shivering with disgust and horror. "hervé, blood has intoxicated you. like so many other priests, you are the prey of a savage frenzy. a bloodthirsty dementia has dethroned your reason. i have for you the pity that a furious madman inspires. after a desperate resistance you fell into the power of a corps of protestant horsemen. my son was among them; he identified you by the mournful celebrity that surrounds your name. his companions were of a mind to kill you on the spot. he obtained from them a postponement of your execution under the pretext that your death would be more exemplary before the assembled ranks of our soldiers. my son's views prevailed. you were taken to this place, to this cellar belonging to the priory occupied by admiral coligny, who, thanks to god, escaped this day being poisoned, escaped the latest abominable crime planned against him. you were taken to this cell. my son just notified me of your capture and of his desire to save you. i share his wishes--seeing that, unfortunately, we are both children of one father. but for that i would have left you to your fate. your religion commands you to kill me; mine commands me to save you. i shall untie your hands; you shall throw this mantle over your shoulders and lower the hood over your head. my son is the only watchman. he offered to the sentinel placed on guard over you to take his place. the offer was accepted. we shall leave this cell together. the rochelois mantle will conceal your frock and remove suspicion. you will follow me. i am known to all the people and soldiers whom we may meet in crossing the courtyard of the admiral's house. i hope to secure your flight with the aid of this disguise. that duty, a sacred one to me, i fulfil in the name of our parents who are no more--in the name of those cherished beings who loved us so dearly." "oh, god, the avenger!" exclaimed hervé with savage exaltation. "ever does thy anger strike thy enemies with blindness! themselves they break the chains of their immolators! themselves they deliver themselves defenseless into the hands of their implacable enemies!" and stretching out his fettered hands to his brother, the monk added: "oh, thou vile instrument of the king of kings! free these hands from their bonds! there is still work for them to do in cropping the bloody field of heresy! there are still supporters of satan for these hands to exterminate!" calm and sad, odelin loosed the fetters from fra hervé's hands. hardly did the monk regain the free use of his arms than, darting a tiger's look at his brother, he took two steps back, seized the heavy string of leaden balls that hung from his girdle, swung it like a sling, and, before his liberator, who stood stupefied at the brusque assault, had time to protect himself, smote him several times on the head with the heavy chaplet. although considerably deadened by odelin's casque, the violent blows staggered the armorer. for a moment he seemed to reel on his feet, but instantly recovering himself, he drew his sword at the very moment that fra hervé returned to the charge. odelin parried the blows, and, cutting with a back-stroke the string that held the balls, caused them to slip off and roll down at the feet of the monk. odelin immediately threw his sword aside, but carried away with rage and indignation, he dashed upon his brother, seized him by the throat, threw him to the ground and pinned him down with his knees upon his chest. in this struggle, fra hervé, weakened by his wound, had the disadvantage. he furiously bit odelin's hand. the pain drew a piercing cry from odelin. the noise was heard by antonicq, who stood on guard at the outside of the door. the young man rushed in and saw his father at close quarters with the monk, who, in his rage, kept his teeth in odelin's flesh and sought, after having penetrated to the bone, to crush his brother's thumb between his teeth. exasperated at the sight, antonicq picked up his father's sword and dealing with the handle of the weapon a crushing blow upon fra hervé's cheek, knocked in several of his teeth and compelled him to release his prey. odelin rose. panting with fury and exhausted by the violence of the struggle, the cordelier sank upon his knees; tore off the bandage from his head, thereby leaving a deep, gaping wound exposed; and trembling with silent, savage rage, sought to staunch the blood that poured in streams out of his mouth. "my son, look at that monk," observed odelin to antonicq with a broken voice. "there was a time when that man was full of tenderness and respect for my father and mother. he cherished my sister and me. brought up like myself in the practice of justice, and gifted with exceptional intelligence, he was the joy, the pride, the hope of our family. look at him now; shudder; there you see him the handiwork of the infamous clergy of the papacy!" "oh, it is horrible!" exclaimed antonicq, hiding his face in his hands. and, suddenly startled by the sound of a distant tumult that reached the depth of the cell across the profound silence of the night, the young man listened for a moment and said: "father, do you hear that noise? the troops are on the march. the cavalry is moving." "yes," answered odelin, listening in turn. "the admiral must have decided to surprise the royalist army before daybreak. the forces will be shortly on the march. you remain on guard at the door of the cellar. this prisoner is the object of so much hatred that they are likely to come for him any moment, to put him to death before we deliver battle. his cell will be found empty. you will answer that the man was my brother and that i wished him to escape punishment. before mounting your horse, come for me at my lodging. we left your poor sister there. our sudden departure must have seemed strange to her, and may have caused her anxiety. in my confusion i never thought of giving her a word of comfort. let us make haste." and throwing his rochelois cloak to fra hervé, odelin continued: "if you care to escape death, put that cloak on and come. towards you, and despite yourself, i shall act as a brother." "and i will pursue you with revengeful hatred, apostate!" answered the monk with implacable resentment, rising to his feet and donning the cloak. "the lord delivers me through your hand. he has his purpose. i shall be the exterminator of your heretical kin! march--lead my way out--save me! god orders it--obey!" thanks to the disguise of fra hervé, who was wrapped in a rochelois cloak like a large number of protestant volunteers, odelin succeeded in aiding him to escape from the grounds of the priory where he was a prisoner. the two thereupon crossed the streets of st. yrieix, these being crowded with soldiers hastening in silence to their several posts. intending to surprise the enemy in the morning by a forced night march, the admiral ordered the assembly of the forces to be done without beat of drum. odelin and fra hervé saw not far from them the franc-taupin and the avengers of israel as they crossed the road on their way to the prison of the cordelier whom they were to execute. a few minutes later, led by his brother to the furthest end of the camp, fra hervé vanished in the dark, taking long strides, and hurling threats of vengeance and anathema at his liberator. odelin hastened to return to his own lodging in order to comfort his daughter and embrace her before going to battle. anna bell had vanished. the room was empty. there was a letter left by her upon the armorer's anvil. chapter vi. the battle of roche-la-belle. the protestant army, about twenty-five thousand strong, marched out of st. yrieix in profound silence at about one o'clock in the morning. the black and sinuous line of battalions and squadrons was hardly distinguishable from the surrounding darkness of the night, lighted only by the scintillations of the stars. the column followed the winding of the whitish road which was lost to sight in the distant horizon in the direction towards roche-la-belle, the royalist encampment. the measured step of the foot soldiers, the sonorous tramp of the cavalry, the clinking of the armors, the jolting and rumbling of artillery wheels--all these noises merged into one muffled and solemn sound. scouts, alert with eye and ear, and pistol in hand, preceded the vanguard. at the head of the vanguard rode admiral coligny, with two young men, one on either side--henry of bearn, the son of the brave joan of albert, queen of navarre, and condé, a son of the prince of condé, whom montesquiou assassinated. other protestant leaders, among them lanoüe and saragosse, followed in the admiral's suite. on that morning the admiral rode a superb silver-grey turkish horse that was wounded under him at jarnac, and which he preferred to all other mounts. a light iron mail covered the neck, chest and crupper of the spirited steed. coligny himself wore his habitual armor of polished iron devoid of ornament. his strong high boots reached up as far as his cuisses. his floating white and wire-sleeved cloak allowed his cuirass to be seen. his old battle sword hung from his belt. the butts of his long pistols peeped from under his saddle-bow. he rode bowed down by years, sorrows and the trials of so many campaigns. his venerable head seemed to bend under the weight of his casque. he guided his horse with his left hand. his right, gloved, reclined upon his cuisse. suddenly he straightened up in the saddle, reined in his horse, and said in a grave voice: "halt, messieurs!" the order was repeated from rank to rank back to the rearmost of the rear guard. one of the volunteers, who served as aide-de-camp to the admiral, rode forward at a gallop to carry to the scouts the order to stop. an almost imperceptible shimmer began to whiten the horizon and announced the approach of dawn. a tepid breeze rose from the west, and became strong enough to chase the few clouds before it. these grew denser; at first they veiled the stars; soon they seemed to invade the whole firmament. coligny attentively examined the aspect of the skies, communicated his opinion to his escort, and said to his lieutenants: "a west wind, rising at dawn, generally presages a rainy day. messieurs, we shall have to push the attack in lively style before the rain comes down upon us, otherwise the fire of our infantry will be almost useless." and addressing lanoüe: "my friend, the chiefs of divisions have my orders; let them be drawn up for battle." lanoüe and several other officers rode off to execute the instructions of the admiral. at this spot the road crossed a vast plateau more than a league wide, upon which the protestant army deployed its lines and took up its positions. coligny had lanoüe and john of soubise for his lieutenants. prince louis of nassau commanded the right wing; la rochefoucauld the center, with henry of bearn, condé, the prince of orange, wolfgang of mansfeld and the prince of gerolstein under his orders; finally, the left was in charge of saragosse. colonels piles and baudine covered the right wing with their regiments; colonels rouvray and pouilly the left. the lancers and the artillery were distributed along the two wings, while a strong cavalry force, consisting of twenty squadrons, held itself in reserve, ready to ride into action supported by several regiments of infantry. in the measure that the light of dawn rendered the distant horizon more distinct, the belfry of the church of roche-la-belle, the fortified town occupied by the royalists, and lying about half a league away, could be discerned from the highest point of the plateau where the protestant forces were deploying their lines. a black line along the dawn that dimly lighted the horizon marked the royalist entrenchments. soon as the army was drawn up in battle formation, coligny said to antonicq, one of the volunteers who served as aide-de-camp: "monsieur lebrenn, convey to colonel plouernel my orders to push forward with his regiment and six companies of auxiliaries. recommend to him above all to execute his march in the profoundest silence possible, without either beat of drums or blare of trumpets. the enemy must be taken by surprise. the colonel is to seize the lake road, which is strongly defended. when that post is carried, return and notify me." antonicq left at a gallop for the extreme right wing, the post of colonel plouernel, the younger brother of count neroweg of plouernel, who commanded the escort of queen catherine de medici the day of her arrival at the abbey of st. severin. the religious feuds threw the two brothers into opposite camps--a not infrequent occurrence in those unhappy days. in the course of the civil wars, the colonel, like so many other protestants, sought refuge in the city of la rochelle. odelin thanks to the family archives left to him by his father christian, knew that the printer had met and was greatly gratified by the courtesy of colonel plouernel on the occasion of one of the first councils held by the reformers in the quarry of montmartre, when he was known as the knight of plouernel. one day, at la rochelle, odelin saw the knight, who had become a colonel in the huguenot army, enter his smithy. he came to purchase arms, and noticing on the shield of the shop the name of lebrenn, inquired from the armorer whether any relationship existed between him and the artisan once employed in the printing establishment of robert estienne. odelin answered that he was a son of the artisan, and, agreeably impressed by the cordiality with which the colonel spoke of his father, entered into friendly relations with the nobleman, finding a singular charm in an acquaintance with one of the descendants of that old frankish family whose path the sons of joel had so often crossed, arms in hand, across the ages. in short, prizing more and more the noble character, the generous heart and the artless manners of colonel plouernel, a man free from all taint of family haughtiness and imbued, as much as any, with the democratic principles of the reformation, odelin informed the scion of the ancient house of plouernel of the accidental circumstance concerning the hereditary feud between the two families both before and since the conquest of clovis, and communicated to him the passages of the domestic chronicles touching upon those historic facts. by little and little an intimate friendship sprang up between odelin and colonel plouernel. the latter, having married during one of the truces of the civil war a young lady of vannes, from whom he had two little boys, was forced to seek refuge in la rochelle with them and his wife when at last war broke out anew. he hired a few vacant rooms from odelin, being anxious to leave madam plouernel with a family the virtues of which he appreciated. for antonicq, odelin's son, he felt an almost paternal affection, there being many years' difference between their ages. being, thanks to his bravery, his reputation, his military talents, and his experience in the field, greatly esteemed among the protestants, colonel plouernel commanded in this campaign a regiment composed almost exclusively of bretons. his soldiers, however, although brave and zealous, were, like all other volunteers, unfortunately prone to disregard discipline; being, moreover, but ill broken to the pursuit of arms, they often failed to appreciate the authority of skilful and prudent tactics, preferring to listen to their own blind intrepidity. the breton regiment, together with the company of auxiliaries, numbered about three thousand men. they stood drawn up for battle at the furthest extremity of the right wing, when antonicq, the carrier of the admiral's orders, arrived at a gallop before their front ranks. some, being field laborers, wore the ancient loose gallic blouse, with hose fastened around the waist by a belt, and woolen bonnets on their heads; others, being either artisans or bourgeois from the cities, wore wide hose, jackets laced in front in the burgundian style, or brigandines, or coats of mail or other defensive equipments, according to their several tastes. the men's headgear also offered a varied aspect: casques, morions, bassinets, slouch hats, bonnets ribbed with two iron hoops. neither were the offensive arms more uniform--lances, pikes, halberds, antique swords, cross-bows, iron maces, cutlasses, hunting arquebuses, field arquebuses, and pistols all being visible. several wood-cutters and their helpers were armed with hatchets, and some had scythes with the edge turned out. the only uniform, or article common to all, was a belt or shoulder sash of white material. these men, although presenting a rather unmilitary appearance, displayed spirit and ardor. more than once did it happen that the fury of their onslaught overthrew the best royal troops, both infantry and cavalry, despite the latter's long military training and discipline. armed like a german rider, with black casque, black cuirass and white cloak, colonel plouernel bestrode a powerful breton bay mare, caparisoned in scarlet. when antonicq approached him he was in conversation with several officers of his regiment. among these was the pastor feron, a man gifted with exceptional energy, and of austere and resolute mien. often did he, like so many other ministers of the reformed religion, march to battle at the head of a troop, singing psalms like the old bards of gaul who marched in advance of the warriors singing their heroic chants. more than once wounded, the clergyman feron inspired the protestants with as much confidence as veneration. antonicq transmitted the orders of admiral coligny to colonel plouernel. the latter immediately faced his troops and said to the captains who surrounded him: "the admiral does us the honor of entrusting to us the lead in the attack. we shall prove ourselves worthy of the distinction. we are to take the royal army by surprise. it will soon be day, but the slope of this hill, along the foot of which runs the road that we are to follow, will hide us from the enemy's pickets. we shall be able to reach the edge of the lake without being seen. foreseeing the attack with which we are charged, i have just commissioned the franc-taupin to proceed with a picked body of determined men of his own corps and sound for a ford across the lake. return to your companies. order the drummers and trumpeters to remain quiet, and all your men to observe scrupulous silence." "brothers," remonstrated pastor feron with elation, "why conceal our approach from the philistines? does not the lord lead the children of israel? let us place our reliance on him only, and the proud towers of zion will crumble before the breath of the eternal. let us march to the attack, not like timid and slinking thieves, but openly, bravely, like true soldiers of god! it was under the open sky that david vanquished goliath!" "yes, yes. no underhanded tactics!" cried several officers. "let us march straight upon the enemy, singing praises to the lord. he is with us. we shall vanquish." "my friends," said colonel plouernel, "follow my advice. let us proceed with caution. the royal army is much our superior in numbers. we must make up with tactics for our inferiority. let us arrive noiselessly before the vanguard of the enemy, you will not then lack for opportunity to prove your valor. place yourselves at the head of your companies, and forward at the double quick, only in the profoundest silence." the authority enjoyed by colonel plouernel, the wisdom of his orders, the confidence of the volunteers in his bravery and military skill once more carried the day over the seething impatience of his captains, although pastor feron looked displeased with a manoeuvre in which he imagined he saw a weakness and dissimulation unworthy of the children of israel. the officers took their posts, and the column advanced in silence, with its right covered by the ridge of a long hill that completely masked it on the side of the enemy's entrenchment. the road that the column followed crossed a wide field covered with wild roses, their petals heavy with the dew of night, and spreading an aromatic odor far and wide. colonel plouernel inhaled with delight the early morning fragrance, and addressing antonicq, who rode beside him, said: "oh, my boy! this sweet perfume, these wild smells, remind me of the moors of brittany. i draw them in with full lungs." "brittany! it is the dream of my life! when i was still a boy my father took us to vannes, on a pilgrimage to the sacred stones of karnak. they rise not far from the spot where stood the cradle of our family at the time of julius caesar. i being then too young to understand it, my father only gave me a short account of our family history. since then i have read it from beginning to end. i now have but one uppermost desire, and my father shares it. it is, should god put an end to these disastrous wars, to leave la rochelle and settle down in vannes. we may be able to purchase a patch of land on the seashore, near the stones of karnak." "those sacred stones, the surviving witnesses of the voluntary sacrifice of your ancestress hena, the virgin of the isle of sen--that old armorica, the independence of which your ancestor vortigern defended so valiantly against the son of charlemagne!" "you may judge, colonel, what memories are awakened within us by that single word--brittany." "well, my boy, it occurred to me quite recently that your and your father's wishes may easily be realized." "how?" "by virtue of his primogeniture, my brother is the sole owner of the vast hereditary domains belonging to our family in auvergne and in brittany. but the father of my dear wife jocelyne, a good and honest breton who resides in brittany, owns an estate that lies not far from karnak, along the seashore. judging from what your father has told me of your family traditions, the estate is bound to consist, partly at least, of the fields once owned by your ancestor joel the brenn of the tribe of karnak. now, then, if god should grant us peace again, nothing would be easier for me than to obtain from my wife's father either the sale or lease of a portion of those fields, and you could then settle down there with your family." "oh, colonel! i should be pleased to owe to you the happiness of living in brittany, near the cradle of my family, together with father and mother, and my sisters, and cornelia my sweetheart, who will then be my wife!" "and yet, strange to say, my boy, your ancestors and mine have hated and fought each other across the ages. i must admit the fact--the law of nature justified the terrible reprisals of the conquered upon their conquerors, in those days of frightful oppression. it required the rude school of the religious wars to join in one common belief the children of joel the gaul and of neroweg the frank, as your father puts it. that first step in evangelical fraternity marks an immense progress. thus will traditional hatreds cool down little by little, and race antagonisms will be wiped out, as they have been wiped out between our two families, once such bitter enemies--" "and now," antonicq completed the sentence, "united by the bonds of firm friendship. may the same be kept ever green among our descendants." "it is my fervent hope, my dear antonicq. i am bringing up my children in that feeling. more than once have i cited to them incidents from your family legends, to the end that their young minds may be penetrated with the sense that the rights, the privileges, the titles of which the nobility boasts so loudly, and which it guards so jealously, have for their principle or origin the abominable acts of violence that conquest brings in its train." during the conversation between colonel plouernel and antonicq the regiment pursued its march under shelter of the ridge that it skirted. the further end of the ridge sloped gradually down to the level of the field, watered by the lake and the stream which protected the front of the royal camp. the attacking column, which, obedient to the orders of the admiral, marched in silence, was expected to reach the open before sunrise, and thus be able to open the assault unexpectedly upon the strongly entrenched outposts, that were planted on the lake road. the execution of the plan was frustrated by the martial impatience of the volunteers, whom pastor feron in his exaltation drove to a fever heat of excitement with his blind faith in the irresistible power of the arm of israel. the huguenots were still half an hour's march from the enemy when the pastor, who marched ahead of the silent drummers, suddenly intoned in a ringing voice the psalm well known to the protestants: "the eternal looks down from above, night and day from out the skies, on all men bestowing love, and nothing escapes his eyes. "from his throne august, the holy king and just sees below distinctly, of man the distant race, through th' abyss of space sees it all distinctly. "nor camps nor yet gendarmes, nor all the strong alarms can ever save a king! nor iron nor courage are of a good usage, oh, lord, without thy aid. "yes, god his wings doth spread, on us his grace doth shed. and ever mounteth guard o'er those who him esteem. none other worthy deem but only him regard." no sooner had the pastor struck up the psalm with its biblical poetry, than each couplet was repeated in chorus by the huguenots. nothing could be more solemn than that choir of three thousand male and sonorous voices, rising from the silent plain, and seeming to salute with a martial hymn the first rays of that day of battle. nevertheless, sadly inopportune, the canticle announced to the enemy the approach of the protestants. driven to despair by the infraction of the admiral's orders, colonel plouernel sought at first to restore silence by addressing himself to the foremost companies. vain hope; vain entreaties. the soldiers wrought themselves up with their own voice. "oh, this lack of discipline will ever be fatal to us!" observed colonel plouernel to antonicq. "thus have we almost always either endangered the success of a battle, or even lost the day that otherwise would positively have been ours! but the error is committed. the enemy is informed of our proximity. let it at least be announced resolutely!" and addressing the drummers: "boys, beat the double-quick!" the drums immediately resounded without however drowning the voices of the protestants--an imposing military orchestra. the column hastened its steps. after half an hour's rapid march its front ranks debouched into the open field. piercing a heavy bank of clouds, the first rays of the sun crimsoned the face of a wide lake into which emptied a stream that itself was fed by a number of streamlets which descended from an elevated plateau, dominated by the burg of roche-la-belle. the lake and main stream were hemmed in on the side of the royal entrenchments, and constituted the enemy's first line of defense. a thick chestnut forest rose to the left of the lake. the lake road ran at right angles, and was fortified by an earthwork, furnished with embrasures, and these armed with falconets. this light artillery could sweep the whole length of the water-courses, which had to be crossed in order to attack a palisaded ground, which, crenelated with loop-holes for the use of arquebusiers, completed the defenses of the catholic army. finally, a number of heavy guns, mounted upon a high embankment, could also play upon the water-course. a cross-fire thus rendered the crossing doubly dangerous. this particular peril would have been almost wholly escaped had the admiral's orders been obeyed. had the attacking column arrived noiselessly at break of day and taken the royalists by surprise when still rolled in slumbers, and before they could hurry to their light and heavy guns and form their ranks, the huguenots could have crossed the stream and, soon supported by their whole army corps, could have led a powerful attack upon the enemy's position. it happened otherwise. the reverberations of the hymn sung by the huguenots sounded the reveille to the enemy, and frustrated the admiral's plans. from all sides the drums of the catholics were sounding the call to arms when the first company of the protestants debouched upon the plain. colonel plouernel ordered a halt, alighted from his horse, gathered his captains around him and, in order to avoid further mishaps said to them: "we can no longer hope to take the enemy by surprise. i shall now communicate to you my new plan of attack." hardly had colonel plouernel uttered these words when they heard a lively rattle of arquebus fire from the lake road. he turned his eyes in that direction, unable at first to conjecture against whom the fire could be directed, seeing that he and his forces were beyond the reach of the shot. immediately, however, the ricochetting of the balls over the surface of the lake attracted the colonel's attention, and he soon perceived here and there, at a considerable distance from one another, several casqued heads just above the surface of the water, and ever and anon diving below with the view of escaping the fire of the arquebusiers. "it is the franc-taupin and his avengers of israel. they have been sounding for a ford across the lake and the stream!" exclaimed the colonel in high glee. "their information will be of great use to us." but immediately he cried out: "oh! one of the brave men has been struck!" indeed, one of the avengers of israel, who, following the example of the franc-taupin, and in order not to offer his full body to the aim of the enemy, crouched lower and lower in the measure that, as he drew nearer to the reed-covered edge of the lake, the water grew shallower--one of the avengers of israel was struck by a bullet full in the head. he straightened up with a convulsive movement, threw his arms in the air, reeled, and then dropped, immediately disappearing under the water, whose surface at the spot reddened with his blood. the franc-taupin, together with his other companions, continued to drag themselves up through the reeds as far as the shore of the lake. once there, the balls could not reach them. they picked up their arms and munitions, which they had left close to the bank, put on their cross-belts, and walked towards the group of officers whom they saw at a distance, standing near the last undulation of the ridge that still masked their column. antonicq, who had alighted from his horse together with colonel plouernel, ran to meet the franc-taupin and threw his arms around the brave old soldier, saying: "heaven be thanked, you have had a narrow escape from death!" "good morning, my boy!" answered josephin. "but quit your embracings--you will get wet; i am streaming water. in my young days i played the mole, now in my old age i play the crawfish--so cease embracing me. besides, i am angry with you and your father--it was due to you two that the scoundrel hervé escaped death. we found his prison empty last night. who but you winked at the demon's escape? i did not know that you were placed on guard over him." "uncle, the bonds of blood--" "by my sister's death! did he respect the bonds of blood!" and stepping towards colonel plouernel, he said: "colonel, this is the result of our explorations: we arrived here before dawn; we left our horses at the ruined farm-house that you see yonder; we then took to the water. the royalists were not on the watch. the lake is fordable by cavalry from the point where the reeds run obliquely into the water. the stream is fordable in all parts by infantry. the water is not more than four feet deep at its deepest, and the bottom is hard. if you wish to flank the entrenchment on the lake road, you will have to ride up about three thousand feet on the side of the chestnut wood. there you will find, running into the marsh, a long and wide jetty. ten men can walk abreast on it. it abutts on a palisaded earthwork that can be easily taken. it is the weak side of the enemy's defenses. you may rely upon the accuracy of these facts, colonel. i made the reconnoissance myself." "i know you are reliable, josephin," answered colonel plouernel. "the information you bring me confirms me in the plan of attack that i have projected." and stepping back to the group of officers whom pastor feron had just joined, the colonel said: "gentlemen, the following is my plan--we would incur a useless loss of men were we to make a front attack upon the lake road fortifications, and the palisaded fort. the enemy is up. the stream that we would have to wade is swept from right and left by a cross artillery fire. we will divide our forces into three corps. the first, which i shall command, will attempt to cross the stream, however perilous the feat, to the end of attracting the enemy's fire upon us, while our second corps, masked by the chestnut grove, shall march up to the jetty of the swamp in order to take the road fortifications on the flank. finally, our third corps will move upon that other entrenchment which you see yonder where the stream crosses. the attack being thus made upon three points at once, the bulk of the army that comes close behind us will support our action. the engagement will be hot. let us spare the blood of our men all we can. courage and prudence." "still prudence! still hesitation! notwithstanding the lord fights for our rights!" exclaimed pastor feron with burning enthusiasm. "we but puff up the pride of the philistines by not daring to attack them in front! pusillanimity! lack of faith in god!" "to divide our forces instead of overwhelming the enemy by concentrating them upon one point?" put in one of the principal officers. "did you consider that, colonel plouernel?" the exasperated colonel cried: "rely upon my mature experience--to make a front attack, and in mass, upon the enemy's position is as foolhardy an enterprise as it is fraught with danger." "intrepidity is the strength of the children of israel!" cried the pastor in a louder voice. "united the children of israel are invincible! let us all march! side by side! like brothers, forward! high our heads and without fear! the finger of god points us the way!" "yes, yes! let us attack in mass and with fury!" echoed most of the officers. "forward all! holding close together, nothing can resist us! god is with us!" alas, once again, as happened so often before in our wars, and to the greater misfortune of our arms, blind foolhardiness, inexperience, lack of discipline, and an exaggerated faith in the triumph of the cause, prevailed over the wise counsels of an officer who had grown grey in harness, and whose military science matched his bravery. first the captains, soon the soldiers also, successively informed from rank to rank upon the subject of the deliberation, and wrought up by the burning words of the pastor, objected to a division of the forces, deeming that such a move would weaken them; and, above all, fearing to seem to waver in sight of the foe, they demanded aloud to be led in mass against the enemy. colonel plouernel, who had a long experience with breton volunteers, and was too well acquainted with their proverbial stubbornness, abandoned all thought of winning them over to his views. seeing the men elated to the point of delirious heroism, he calmly said to the officers: "is it your wish? well, let us march! drummers, beat to the charge! forward, at the enemy! battle, all along the line!" colonel plouernel then drew his sword, clasped antonicq's hand, and said: "my friend, we are marching to slaughter. if you escape the carnage that i foresee, take my last adieus to my wife and little boys, and also to your worthy father." "these brave fellows are crazy! we shall be mowed down," observed the franc-taupin in turn to antonicq. "i would die without first having done my twenty-five catholic priests to death! the devil still owes me seven of them. be firm, my boy. let us not be separated from each other. we shall then at least both have the same stream for our tomb. to think of it! i who in my young days loved wine so well, now to die in water!" the column set itself in motion in a compact mass, at a quick pace, and with drums beating at its head. before the drummers marched pastor feron, who again intoned a psalm that was speedily taken up in chorus by the protestants in the midst of a veritable hailstorm of balls and bullets: "god ever was both my life and my light! death, i defy thee! what have i to fear? god's my support with his infinite might! have i not from him my title quite clear? "when the malignants did fire on me, when they expected to tear out my heart, have i not seen them all thrown down by thee, scattered, and smitten, and struck by thy dart? "come, let a whole camp surround me on all sides, never my heart will be shaken with fright! close by my side, oh! the lord ever strides, need i to fear of a foe any blight?" the battle raged with fury. colonel plouernel's apprehensions were realized. despite prodigies of intrepidity, his column, as it waded through the stream in serried and compact ranks, was received in front and from the two flanks by a terrific cross-fire of arquebuses and artillery. three-fourths of the volunteers fell under the torrent of lead, even before reaching the middle of the stream. wondering at the length of this vanguard attack, the successful execution of which he considered certain by entrusting it to colonel plouernel. admiral coligny suddenly saw antonicq lebrenn riding back at top speed with his thigh pierced by a bullet. informed by antonicq of the reason of the disastrous result of the encounter, the admiral promptly ordered colonels bueil and piles to proceed at their swiftest with their respective regiments to the jetty, and take the road entrenchment from the flank. soubise, la rochefoucauld and saragosse received and, with their wonted skill, executed another set of orders. within shortly battle was engaged all along the line, changing the aspect of the conflict. the huguenots' artillery responded to and silenced the fire from the opposite side. attacked in front, from the right and the left, the royalists were dislodged from their entrenchments near the lake. they retired behind the palisaded ground, from which they kept up a murderous fire. but the palisade was broken through. first the infantry, then the cavalry of the protestants rushed through the breaches. a stubborn melee ensued, and was at its height when the muffled rumbling of distant thunder, immediately followed by heavy rain-drops from the blackening sky overhead, announced the approach of the storm that coligny had that morning predicted.[ ] * * * * * i, antonicq lebrenn, who write this account, am overcome with grief in completing it. its close revives sad memories. after i informed admiral coligny of the check sustained by the column of colonel plouernel, the kindhearted old man insisted that his own surgeon dress my wound. though painful, the wound did not prevent me from keeping in the saddle. after being attended by the surgeon, i hastened back to the thick of the battle. a large body of cavalry, commanded by marshal tavannes, with the duke of anjou, brother of charles ix, and young henry of guise at his side, covered the right wing of the royalist camp. against that armed body of heavy and light troopers admiral coligny hurled twenty squadrons of horsemen under the command of prince franz of gerolstein. it was at that moment that i rejoined the battle. the thunder claps, now succeeding one another with increasing frequency and vehemence, drowned the roar of the artillery. the storm was soon to break out in all its fury. the protestant cavalry was advancing at a gallop three ranks deep upon the catholic horsemen. sword in hand, franz of gerolstein led, a few paces in advance of his troopers. the prince was accompanied by his knights and pages. among the latter was anna bell. the dashing sight soon disappeared from before my eyes in the cloud of pistol smoke, and the dust raised by the horses, as the two opposing masses of riders met each other, pistol in hand and exchanged fire. suddenly i heard my father's voice calling to me: "god sends you, my son! come and fight by my side." "father," i said to him drawing up my horse beside his own, he being on the right wing of our army and at the end of a line composed of rochelois volunteer horsemen who followed upon the heels of the charging contingent of the prince of gerolstein, "did you have time to see my sister again after you left me last night?" "alas, no; but i found a letter that she left behind, and--" my father could proceed no further. two regiments of mounted arquebusiers under the command of count neroweg of plouernel, the colonel's brother, made a charge upon us with the object of isolating us from the german troopers. the manoeuvre succeeded. the impetuosity of the charge threw our ranks into disorder. the enemy broke through them. we could no longer fight in line. a general melee ensued. it was a combat of man to man. despite the disorder i managed to remain at my father's side. fate drove us, him and me, face to face with count neroweg of plouernel, at whose side rode his son odet, a lad of sixteen years, and a great favorite with the duke of anjou. i heard the count cry to him: "courage, my boy! strike hard, and kill as many of the enemy as you can! prove yourself worthy of the house of neroweg!" almost immediately thereupon i saw the count rise in his stirrups. his sword was on the point of striking my father when the latter crushed the shoulder of neroweg with a pistol shot fired at close range. the count dropped his sword and uttered a piercing cry. his son raised his light arquebus and took aim at my father, just then engaged in replacing his pistol in its holster. instantly, driven by two digs of my spurs, my horse bounded forward, striking the steed of odet of plouernel breast against breast; at the very moment that odet discharged his arquebus upon my father, i struck the lad so furious a blow with my saber that his casque and skull were cleaved in two. odet stretched out his arms, and dropped backward bleeding upon the crupper of his horse. in the meantime, my own steed, wounded in the loins by a severe cut, collapsed. in falling, the heavy animal rolled over me, pressing with its full weight upon my wounded thigh. pain deprived me of the strength to extricate myself. several combatants trampled me under foot. my corselet was torn open under the iron hoofs of the horses. my morion was knocked in and flattened; pressed by its walls my skull felt as if cramped by a vise. my eyes began to swim; i was about to faint, but a frightful vision so stirred my soul at that moment that i seemed to revive. the melee left in its wake upon the field of carnage the dead, the dying, and the wounded among whom i lay. the spectacle i saw took place not far from my right. a few paces from me, my father, unhorsed by the arquebus of young odet of plouernel, raised himself livid, and sank again in a sitting posture, carrying his hands to his cuirass which a bullet had perforated. that same instant the diabolical cry smote my ears: "kill all! kill all!" and then, in the midst of the roll of thunder overhead, and across the surrounding sheen of lightning flashes, there appeared before my eyes--fra hervé, mounted upon a small black horse with long flowing mane, clad in his brown frock rolled up to his knees, and exposing his fleshless legs, naked like his feet which were strapped in spurred sandals wherewith he kicked his horse's flank and urged it onward. a fresh bandage covered his recent wound and girded his hairless skull. his hollow eyes sparkled with savage fury. armed with a long cutlass that dripped blood he continued to cry: "kill all! kill all!" the monk led to carnage a band of gallows-birds, the scum and refuse of the catholic army, whose duty it was to despatch the wounded with iron maces, axes and knives. hervé recognized his brother odelin, who, with one hand upon his wound and the other on the ground, was essaying to rise to his feet. an expression of satanic hatred lighted the face of the cordelier. he jumped down from his horse, and emitted a roar of ferocious triumph. my father gave himself up for lost. nevertheless he made an attempt to soften the heart of his executioner, saying: "hervé, brother! i have a wife and children. last night i saved your life!" "lord!" cried the priest, gasping for breath and raising his fiery eyes and blood-stained cutlass to the thundering and lightning-lighted heaven above. "god of vengeance! god of the catholics! receive as a holocaust the blood of cain!" and fra hervé precipitated himself upon his brother, threw him down, squatted upon his chest, seized his hair with one hand and with the other brandished the cutlass. odelin uttered a cry of horror, closed his eyes and offered his throat. the fratricide was accomplished. fra hervé rose bespattered with his brother's blood, kicked the corpse with his foot, and jumped back upon his horse yelling: "kill all! slaughter all the wounded!" my senses, until then held in suspense by the very terror of the frightful spectacle, now abandoned me. i completely lost consciousness. the carnage continued. when i recovered from my swoon, i was lying on the straw in our smithy and lodging at st. yrieix. the franc-taupin and colonel plouernel sat beside my couch. from them i learned the issue of the battle of roche-la-belle. it was disastrous to the royalists; they were roundly routed. the violent thunder storm, followed by a deluge of rain, did not allow admiral coligny to pursue the retreating catholic army. the victorious protestants re-entered st. yrieix. the franc-taupin and his avengers of israel, happening to pass by the spot where i lay motionless under my horse, not far from my father's corpse, with his throat cut by fra hervé, recognized me and laid me upon a wagon used for transporting the munitions of the artillery. the field of battle was ours. with the help of his companions, the franc-taupin piously dug a grave in which they buried my father. later i learned from the prince of gerolstein the sad fate that overtook my sister, and i also found the letter which she wrote to my father. the unfortunate girl, imagining herself despised and forsaken by us, decided, she wrote, to die, and bade us her heartrending adieus. desirous that my father and his co-religionists be apprized of the dark and bloody schemes of catherine de medici, anna bell reported in her letter the secret conversation which the queen had with father lefevre on the subject of the reformers--a conversation that she overheard at the abbey of st. severin. after having thus attested her attachment to us to the very end, she obtained the consent of the prince's page she had spoken with, to don the clothes and ride the horse of the lad who was killed at the skirmish of that morning. she looked forward to meeting death beside franz of gerolstein. alas! her wish was realized. she joined the prince. as much surprised as alarmed at the girl's purpose, he vainly entreated her to withdraw until after the shock between the two mounted forces. neither anna bell nor franz of gerolstein was wounded at the first encounter. but shortly after, as the german horsemen were re-crossing the stream in pursuit of the enemy's cavalry, my sister was struck in the breast by a stray bullet from the fleeing enemy, and fell from her horse into the river, where she was drowned, without franz, who was carried along by the impetus of his troopers' charge, being able to return in time to save her. finally, informed by my account concerning the double encounter of his brother, count neroweg, and odet his son, with my father and myself, colonel plouernel learned later that both had perished in the fight, leaving him the head of the house, and sole heir of its vast domains. victorious at roche-la-belle, the protestants were destined to suffer a serious defeat in september of the same year. the royal and protestant armies met in poitou, near the town of montcontour. coligny, much the inferior in numbers, manoeuvred his forces with his customary skill, and entrenched himself behind the river dive. sheltered by that almost impregnable position, he wished to wait for the reinforcements promised by montgomery, who was in almost complete possession of gascony. but, as had happened so many times before, to the misfortune of the cause, and despite all his firmness, coligny saw himself constrained to yield to the headlong impatience of his army, the greater part of which consisted of volunteers. the campaign had lasted a long time. captains and soldiers had left their families, their property, their farms, their fields and their homes to fly to the defense of their religion. they were anxious to return to their hearths. accordingly, hoping by means of a victory to be able once more to impose peace upon charles ix and reconquer the free exercise of their religion, they were loud in their demand for battle. coligny yielded. on september , , he delivered battle to an army almost twice the size of his own. despite the prodigies of bravery displayed by the huguenots, and although the royalists sustained heavy losses, victory remained with the catholics. nevertheless, after montcontour, as after jarnac, so far from allowing himself to be disheartened by a reverse that he had foreseen and that he had vainly sought to avoid, coligny executed so threatening a retreat that the catholic army dared not pursue him. on the very night after the defeat, the protestant chieftains, assembled at parthenay, despatched couriers to scotland, germany and switzerland appealing to their co-religionists for support; collected the shattered fragments of their armies; threw strong garrisons into niort, st. jean-d'angely, saintes and la rochelle; crossed the charente; marched into gascony to join montgomery, who was the master of that province; and coligny renewed hostilities with success, choosing as the basis of his operations the rivers tarn and garonne. armed bands of intrepid protestants harassed and tired out the royal forces. charles ix and his mother took the huguenots for annihilated after the defeats of jarnac and montcontour. it was otherwise. the defeated men reappeared more determined, more numerous, more zealous in the defense of their rights. catherine de medici, more and more convinced that peace, and not war, offered the sole means to put an end to the huguenots, turned her thoughts more resolutely than ever before to the execution of the infernal project that francis of guise conceived at the time of the triumvirate, and which she confided to the jesuit lefevre. she caused overtures to be made to coligny looking to a new treaty of peace. the royal advances were met. the admiral, together with several other protestant chiefs, deputed as the plenipotentiaries of the huguenots, held long conferences with the envoys of charles ix, and finally, on august , , a new edict, the most favorable yet granted to the protestants, was signed at st. germain. the document provided in substance: the memory of all past events is blotted out by both parties. freedom of conscience is implicitly granted throughout the kingdom. none is henceforth to be constrained to commit any act forbidden by his conscience in religious matters. no distinction exists between catholics and protestants in the matter of admission to the colleges, universities, hospitals, asylums, or any other institution of learning or of public charity. none shall be prosecuted for past actions. coligny and all other protestant chiefs are declared good and loyal subjects. protestants are qualified to hold all royal, seigniorial or municipal offices. all decrees rendered against the huguenots shall be stricken from the judicial records. finally, and in order to guarantee the execution of the said edict, charles ix places, as pledges for the term of two years, the cities of la rochelle, cognac, montauban, and la charite, in the hands of the princes of navarre, of condé and of twenty other protestant princes, the said towns to be places of _refuge_ for all those who might not yet venture to return to their own homes.[ ] alas! those who, in the language of the edict, _might not yet venture to return to their own homes_, despite the peace being signed, promulgated and sworn to, justly suspected some new trap concealed under the lying peace. antonicq lebrenn did not take his leave of admiral coligny and monsieur lanoüe until after the close of the war. they were informed by him of the revelations contained in anna bell's letter to her father odelin, the letter wherein the maid of honor of catherine de medici reported the conversation which she overheard between the infamous queen and the jesuit lefevre, in the course of which the queen disclosed to the jesuit her project of lulling the suspicions of the huguenots with the false appearance of a peace, to the end of taking them by surprise, unarmed and confiding, and exterminating them on one day throughout the kingdom. the project seemed so monstrous to coligny that he looked upon it as only a chimera of delirious wickedness, and held it for impracticable, if only on the ground of there not being murderers enough to execute the butchery. the admiral deceived himself. there never is a lack of murderers in the catholic party. these rise by the thousand at the voice of the roman priests. all priests are potential murderers with a patent from their faith. chapter vii. "contre-un."[ ] towards the end of the month of august in the year , the lebrenn family was gathered one evening in the large hall that served for storeroom to the arms turned out by the establishment of antonicq lebrenn, who continued his father's trade at la rochelle. the room had the appearance of an arsenal. on the shelves along the walls lay arms of all sorts in profusion--swords, daggers, sabers, cutlasses, pikes, halberds, battle maces and axes; further off, long and short-barreled arquebuses, pistols and some firearms of a novel fashion. these were light and easy to handle, an invention of the celebrated gaspard of milan, who gave them the name of "muskets;" finally, there was a large display of casques, morions, cuirasses, corselets, brigandines, armlets, shields and bucklers, some of the latter made of iron, others of wood inlaid with sheets of steel. the workshop, with its furnaces, anvils and other utensils, was situated behind the storeroom, where, on this day the lebrenn family, six in number, were congregated--marcienne, odelin's widow; antonicq, her son; theresa, his sister, married three years before to louis rennepont, the nephew of brother st. ernest-martyr; josephin, the franc-taupin; captain mirant, marcienne's brother; his daughter cornelia, the betrothed of antonicq; and finally john barbot, a boilermaker, the widower of jacqueline barbot, who was the god-mother of anna bell, and who died two years previously. in the assemblage were also the two artisans of the establishment, bois-guillaume and roland, besides a fifteen-year-old apprentice whom they nicknamed "serpentin." although it was the hour for rest, these different personages were not idle. marcienne, odelin's widow, spun at her wheel. clad in black, she had made up her mind to remain in mourning for the rest of her life in memory of the tragic deaths of her husband and her daughter, anna bell. the widow's pronounced features, the cast of her face at once serious, firm and kind, preserved the primitive type of the women of the _santones_, a race which, according to what historians tell us, preserved itself pure from times immemorial, almost without admixture with foreign strains since the olden days of gaul. theresa, marcienne's eldest daughter, was busy sewing, and from time to time cast a glance of maternal solicitude upon her child, who lay asleep in a cradle that off and on she rocked with her foot. theresa expected with increasing anxiety the return of her husband, louis rennepont, who, several weeks before, left for paris, whither he was deputed by the rochelois, owing to the vague yet increasing apprehensions entertained by the protestants, due to the circumstance that coligny, together with almost all the protestant leaders, was drawn to paris on the occasion of the marriage of henry of bearn to the king's sister marguerite. theresa's headgear was the time-honored and common one of the women of the region--a high, white and pointed coif, adjusted to the coil of her tresses. her robe, made of grey bolting-cloth, was slashed with a red front-piece, that partly covered her white and starched chemisette. from the belt of her apron hung two long silver chains, at the lower end of which were attached her penknife, scissors, a pin-cushion, some keys, and other utensils inseparable from a good housekeeper. near theresa rennepont and behind her, cornelia mirant, her cousin, the betrothed of antonicq, was ironing some household linen. the face of cornelia also preserved in all their purity the characteristics of a santone woman of the heroic days of gaul. a luxurious head of light chestnut hair with a golden glint, twisted into strands and wound into a thick-topknot on her head; a white and ruddy skin; a small forehead; light eyebrows of a shade less brilliant than her hair and penciled in an almost straight line above her orange-brown, flashing and resolute eyes; a straight nose, prolonged in almost a straight line from the forehead, as seen in the lofty statues of antiquity; a pair of fleshy and cherry-red lips; a pronounced chin;--these features imparted to cornelia's face a strikingly lofty stamp. the girl's tall stature, her flexible neck, her well rounded shoulders, her white and strong arms, the gentle contour of her bosom, recalled the noble proportions of the greek pallas athene. with this virile appearance, cornelia united the sportiveness, and the sweet and coy charms of a maid. dressed rochelois fashion like her cousin, theresa, she had, in order to be at greater ease, rolled up the sleeves of her robe, and the strong muscles of her arms, which were white as marble, rose and fell with every impression of the hot iron upon the linen that she was smoothing. ever and anon, however, the iron remained inactive for a moment. at such moments cornelia raised her head to listen more attentively to the reading with which antonicq was entertaining the assembled family; and her eyes would then bend upon him, not with any furtive tenderness, but, on the contrary, endeavoring to meet his own gaze with the serene confidence of a betrothed bride. cornelia's father, captain mirant, one of the most intrepid seamen of la rochelle, a man still in the full strength of his years, was engaged at sketching some defenses that he deemed requisite to the safety of the port. near the captain sat his chum, john barbot, the boilermaker of the isle of rhe. his wife, anna bell's god-mother, had died of grief. she never could pardon herself for the loss of her god-child; after long years of weeping over what she deemed her own negligence, the poor woman sank into her grave. not wishing to sit idly by, john barbot was furbishing a steel corselet with as much care as he would have done one of the magnificent copper basins with artistic relievos, or one of his tinplated iron sheets, which, set up in his boilermaker's shop, shone with the glitter of gold or silver. a man of exceptional courage, above all of great self-possession in the hour of danger, barbot had taken part in the late religious wars. among other scars he wore one inflicted by a saber cut, dealt so furiously that, after cropping the boilermaker's left ear, it plowed through his cheek and carried away the tip of his nose. despite the mutilation, john barbot's face preserved an expression of unalterable good nature. the franc-taupin polished the barrel of an arquebus just taken, tarnished and defaced, from the forge. the old leader of the avengers of israel, the man to whom circumstances had imparted an implacable ferocity towards papists, still always carried, hanging from a string fastened to the buttonhole of his coat, the little piece of wood on which, by means of notches, he kept tally of the catholic priests whom he killed in reprisal for the death of his sister and the torture of hena. the notches had now reached the number of twenty-four. the implacable avenger was seated on the other side of the cradle of theresa's child, and shared the mother's duties of lightly rocking it. whenever the child woke up, the franc-taupin would drop the barrel of the arquebus on his knees and smile to the baby--at least as hard as the franc-taupin could smile. he lived on a small pension granted to him by the municipality of la rochelle, in reward for the long years of service that he rendered in the capacity of sergeant of the city archers. josephin transferred to antonicq, to antonicq's sister and to their mother the devoted attachment of which he gave so many signal proofs to christian lebrenn and his wife bridget, to their daughter hena and their son odelin. finally, the two artisans employed in the shop, bois-guillaume and roland, as well as serpentin the apprentice, occupied themselves with something or other connected with their trade, more for the sake of keeping their hands busy than for actual work, while they listened to antonicq, who was reading aloud. antonicq read the _contre-un_, a work written by estienne of la boetie,[ ] who died about nine years before. never yet did reason, human dignity, the sense of justice, the holy love for freedom, the whole-souled horror for tyranny, speak a language more eloquent and more warm from the heart than the language spoken in that immortal book. it was a cry of execration, an anathema against oppression. the avenging cry, leaping from the indignant soul of a great citizen, caused all noble hearts to vibrate responsively. those pages, every word of which breathes ardent conviction, steeled the faith of all the honorable people, who finally at the end of their patience with the monstrous crimes that royalty, the accomplice or tool of the church of rome, was still soiled with in this century, were seriously considering, the same as the low countries were doing, the advisability of following the example of the swiss cantons, which federated themselves in a republic. the work of estienne of la boetie, by calling upon all the oppressed to resistance _against-one_ who oppresses them, laid bare to them, with terse and pitiless logic, the despicable causes of their _voluntary servitude_, the original title of that admirable work. antonicq lebrenn continued to read the _contre-un_ amid the profound silence maintained by the assembled family: "there are three species of tyrants, i speak of wicked princes: the first have the kingdom by popular election; the second by force of arms; the third by inheritance. those who acquired it by the right of war deport themselves as on conquered territory; those who are born kings are usually no better; nourished in the blood of tyranny, they take in the tyrant's nature with their milk, and look upon their people as hereditary serfs. he, to whom the people conferred the state, should (it would seem) be more endurable, and so would he be, i hold, if, seeing himself raised above all others and flattered by the undefinable thing called grandeur, he did not generally bend his energies to preserve the power that the people loaned him, and to transmit the same to his own children. "accordingly, to speak truthfully, i do perceive that there is some difference between these different tyrants. but if one is to choose, the difference ceases. the act of reigning remains virtually the same--the elective ones govern as if they had bulls to tame; the conquering ones look upon their people as their prey; hereditary kings see in their subjects natural slaves. "speaking intelligently, it is a great misfortune to be subject to a master of whom one can never be certain that he will be good, seeing he ever has it in his power to be bad whenever it should so please him. i do not mean at this point to debate the question, to wit, whether republics are better than monarchy? if i wished to consider that question, i should first wish to know, what rank monarchy is to take among republics, or if monarchy can at all rank with republics, considering the difficulty of believing that there could be anything public in a government where _all belongs to one_? "i wish i could understand how it happens that so many citizens, so many men, so many cities, so many nations often endure only a tyrant, who has no power except that given to him; who has no power to harm them but because of their own power to endure him! what! a million men, miserably held in subjection, their necks under the yoke, not compelled by force, but enchanted and charmed by the word one, neither the power of whom they need fear, seeing he stands alone; nor the qualities of whom they should love, seeing that, as to them, he is inhuman and savage! such is the weakness among us, men! "oh, good god! what can that be? what name shall we call the thing by? what peculiar calamity is it? or what vice? or, rather, what calamitous vice? to see a vast number, not obey, but serve! not governed, but tyrannized! with neither property, nor parents, nor children, nor yet their own lives that they may call their own! suffer plunderings, pillagings, cruelties, not at the hands of an army, not at the hands of a camp of barbarians, against which one would shed his blood and risk his life--but endure all that from only one! not from a hercules, or a sampson, but from a single mannikin, generally the most cowardly, the most effeminate of the nation, at that! not accustomed to the powder of battles, but even hardly to the dust of tourneys! can we give to that the name of cowardice? are we to say that those who remain in subjection are poltroons? that two, that three, that four should fail to defend themselves against one, that would be singular enough, yet possible; in which case we could justly say it is faint-heartedness. but when a hundred, when a thousand endure everything from only one, can it then be said that they do not want, that they dare not lay hands upon him, and that it is not a case of cowardice, but rather of disdain and contempt? if so, what monstrous vice is this that deserves not the title of cowardice, that finds no name villainous enough to designate it by, that nature disowns having brought forth, and that the tongue of men refuses to name?" the eloquent malediction of the blindness of subjugated peoples drew a unanimous cry of admiration from the lebrenn family. antonicq interrupted his reading for a moment. "oh, the book is right!" gravely observed odelin's widow. "what monstrous vice can that be that bends under the yoke of only one? it is not cowardice! the most cowardly, when they see they are a thousand against one, will not be afraid to attack him. that book is right. what may be the name of the nameless vice?" antonicq proceeded: "it is the people who subjugate themselves; who cut their own throats; who, having the choice between being subject or free, leave their freedom for a yoke; who give their consent to their own ruin, or rather purchase the same. if the recovery of their freedom would have to cost something, it is not i who would press them to the act, although that which man should hold dearest is the recovery of his natural rights, or, to be accurate, from beast to return to man's estate. "but no! i do not demand such boldness from the people. what! if, in order to have its liberty, the people need but to will it, can there be a nation on earth to consider the price too dear, being able to regain the boon by wishing? who would hesitate to recover a boon that should be redeemed with the price of his blood, a boon, which if lost, all honorable men must esteem life a burden and death a relief? "but no! the more do tyrants pillage, the more do they exact, the more do they ruin, the more do they destroy,--all the more are they paid to do it, all the more are they served, and all the more do they fortify themselves. "and yet, if nothing were to be allowed to them, if no obedience were to be yielded to them, and that without combat, without striking a blow, they would remain naked, undone, and would cease to be anything--like roots, that, lacking nourishment, become a dry, dead branch." "right!" put in the franc-taupin. "again that book is right. there are donkey-men and lion-men. say to a donkey: 'roar, jump, bite your enemy!' he will not listen. say to the brute: 'donkey you are, donkey you will be, remain donkey. one does not even expect of you that you rise to the caesarian heroism of a kick! no, you peaceful beast! all that we ask is that you remain quiet, motionless, stubborn, and do not go to the mill! aye, my donkey friends, what could the millers do, and their helpers, if, despite all their cudgels, the millions of donkeys, having passed the word along the line, refused point blank to march? will the millers and their helpers shower blows upon you? perhaps, but are you spared any blows when you do march? beaten whether you march or stand still, you might as well stand still and ruin the miller.' yes," added the franc-taupin, his face assuming a sad expression; "but how was this unhappy people even to conceive the bare thought of such an inert resistance? have the monks not monked their brains from the cradle to the grave: 'go, thou beast of burden, lick the hand that smites you--bless the burden that crushes your limbs, and galls your spine to the quick--thy salvation hereafter is to be bought by the torments you endure on earth--to the monks belong thy broad back--they straddle it in order to lead you to paradise!' and," proceeded the franc-taupin, more and more incensed, "should anyone attempt to wrest the besotted wretches from the grip of the monkery, why, then, quick, and quicker than quick!--the jail, the cutlass, the pyre, and torture! thus came my sister bridget to die in prison, and her daughter to be burned alive, and christian to die of grief, and odelin, his son, to have his throat cut by his own brother, fra hervé, the cordelier! that is the long and short of it!" these words, which recalled so many painful losses to the memory of the lebrenn family, were followed by a mournful silence. tears rolled down the cheeks of marcienne, odelin's widow; her wheel stopped whirring; her head dropped upon her breast and she muttered: "my mourning will be like my sorrow, eternal! oh, my children, there are two places that will ever remain vacant at our hearth--your father's and your sister's. the poor girl doubted our indulgence and our love for her!" "oh, catherine de medici! infamous queen! mother of execrable sons! will the hour of vengeance ever sound!" exclaimed captain mirant. "even the perversest of people shudder at the crimes of the crowned monsters! their acts are endured, and yet a breath could throw them down! oh, well may we ask in the language of la boetie's book: 'what is the nameless vice that causes millions of people to submit voluntarily to a power that is abhorred?'" "we huguenots, at least, showed our teeth to the monsters," put in barbot the boilermaker. "nevertheless, to talk shop, i must confess our mistake. it was our duty to throw into the furnace and melt once for all that old royal boiler in which for a thousand and odd years the kings have been boiling jacques bonhomme, and serving him up in all manner of sauces for their repasts. once that boiler is melted, the devil's kitchen would be done for!" "yes, indeed, comrade," replied captain mirant, "we made that mistake, and yet we were the most daring among the oppressed! and we made the mistake notwithstanding we were repeatedly imposed upon and betrayed by treacherous edicts. may it please god that this last edict do not fare like the previous ones, and that louis rennepont may speedily bring us tidings from paris to dispel our apprehensions!" "brother," observed marcienne, "i can not but mistrust the pledges of charles ix and his mother. alas, i can not forget the revelations made in the letter to her father by my poor daughter before she leaped voluntarily to death at the battle of roche-la-belle. catherine and her sons are well capable of scheming the massacre that she confided to the jesuit lefevre. at the same time we must not forget that admiral coligny, so prudent, so wise, so experienced a man, in short, better qualified than anyone else to appreciate the situation, seeing he is in close touch with the court, reposes full confidence in the peace. did he not give us positive proof of his sense of security by inducing the protestants to restore to the king, before the date fixed by the edict, the fortified towns of asylum that were placed in their power?" "oh, sister, sister!" interjected captain mirant. "i shall ever congratulate myself upon having been on the board of aldermen among those who most decidedly opposed the relinquishing of la rochelle! thank god, this fortified place remains to us. here at least we may feel safe. i very much fear the loyalty of the admiral may not be a match for the duplicity of the italian woman." "i must say that i am increasingly impatient for my husband's return home," observed theresa. "he will have had an interview with admiral coligny; he will have expressed to him the fears and misgivings of the rochelois. at least we shall know for certain whether we are to feel safe or not." "do you call that living?" cried captain mirant. "why should we, honorable people, be kept ever in suspense as though we were criminals! mistrust ever sits in our hearts! our ears ever are on the watch, our hands on our swords! whence come these mortal alarms? the reason is that, despite our old municipal franchises, despite the ramparts of our town, we are, after all, the subjects of the king, instead of belonging to ourselves, like the swiss cantons, that are freely federated in a republic! oh, liberty! liberty! shall our eyes ever see your reign among us?" "yes!" answered antonicq. "yes! we would see that beautiful reign if the admirable sentiments of la boetie could be made to penetrate the souls of our people! but listen, i shall read on: "oh, liberty! so great, so sweet a boon, that, once lost misfortune follows inevitably, and even the enjoyments that may remain behind wholly lose their taste and flavor, being tainted with servitude! liberty is not desired by men for no other reason, it seems to me, than that, if they were to desire it, they would have it! one would think they refuse the priceless conquest only because it is so easily won! the beasts (may god help me!) where men are too deaf to hear, scream in their ears--_long live freedom!_ many animals die the moment they are captured. fishes lose their lives with their element: they die unable to survive their natural franchise! if animals recognized rank in their midst they would turn liberty into--_nobility!_ from the largest to the smallest, when caught, they offer so emphatic a resistance with nails, horns, feet, or beaks that they sufficiently declare how highly they prize what they are losing. when caught, they give us so many manifest tokens of how thoroughly they realize their misfortune that, if they continue to live, it is rather to mourn over their lost freedom than to accommodate themselves to servitude. "poor, miserable people! poor senseless beings! oh, ye nations stubbornly addicted to your own evil! blind to your weal! you allow yourselves to be carried away, to be ravished of the best that you have, of the prime of your revenue; your fields to be pillaged; your homes to be robbed; your paternal furniture and heirlooms to be taken for spoils! your life is such that you may say nothing is your own. would it be that wise unless you are tolerant of the thief who plunders you, and the accomplice of the murderer who slays you? are you not traitors to yourselves? you sow your fields for him to gorge himself! you furnish your houses in order to furnish matter for his burglaries! you bring up your daughters that there may be food for his debauches! you bring up your sons that he may lead them to slaughter and turn them into the instruments of his greed and the executors of his revenges. you stint your bodies that he may revel in the delights you are deprived of, and wallow in lecherous and vile pursuits! "true enough, physicians advise not to lay hands upon wounds that are incurable. perhaps i act not wisely in seeking to give advice to the people in this matter. they have long lost consciousness; they are no longer aware of their ailment; the disease is mortal!" "the reproach is severe, and, i think, unmerited," objected odelin's widow. "did not estienne of la boetie himself, who died only nine years ago, see the protestants thrice run to arms in the defense of their faith?" "sister," asked captain mirant, "did the whole people run to arms? alas, no! the majority, the masses--blind, ignorant, wretched, and dominated by the monks--have they not ever risen at the command of their clerical misleaders, and fallen with fanatical rage upon what they call the 'heretics'? even among ourselves, is it not a small majority that realizes the truth of what christian your husband's father used to say, when he warned the protestants that neither religious nor any other freedom could ever be permanently secured so long as royalty, the hereditary accomplice of the church, was left standing? do not the majority of protestants, even admiral coligny himself, entertain respect and love, if not for kings, at least for the monarchy? do they not seek to place that institution beyond the reach of the religious wars? sister, boetie's book tells the truth: the masses of the people, degraded, brutified, besotted and kept in ignorance by hereditary serfdom no longer feel the gall of servitude. does it, therefore, follow the disease is incurable, and fatal? no! no! in that respect i look to better things than does la boetie. history, in accord therein with the chronicles of your husband's family, proves that a slow and mysterious progress is taking its course across the ages. serfs replaced slaves; vassals replaced serfs; some day, vassalage also will disappear as did slavery and serfdom! the religious wars of our century are another step toward ultimate freedom. the revolt against the throne will closely follow the revolt against the church. but, alas! how many years are yet to elapse before the arrival of the day foretold by victoria the great--as narrated in your family history!"[ ] "oh, the genius of tyranny is so resourceful in infernal plans to protect its empire!" exclaimed antonicq. "do you remember, uncle, how surprised you and i were at the account, given us by some travelers who returned from paris, of the infinite number of public festivities--tourneys, tilts, processions--gotten up to keep the people amused?" "yes, and we listened to their report as to a fairy tale," interjected cornelia. "we wondered how the people could feel so giddyheaded in paris; how they could crowd to festivities given upon places that were still dyed red with the blood of martyrs, and still warm with the ashes of pyres!" "cornelia," replied antonicq, proud of the noble words of his bride, "tyrants rule less, perhaps, through force that terrorizes than through corruption that depraves. listen to these profound and awful words of la boetie upon this very subject: "no better insight can be got into the craftiness of tyrants to brutify their subjects than from the measure that cyrus adopted towards the lydians after he took possession of sardis, the principal city of lydia, and reduced to his mercy croesus, the rich king, and carried him off a prisoner of war. cyrus was notified that the people of sardis rose in rebellion. he speedily reduced them to order, but unwilling to put so beautiful a place to the sack, and also to be himself put to the trouble of garrisoning the city with a large force in order to keep it safe, he hit upon a master scheme to make sure of his conquest. he set up in sardis a large number of public houses for debauchery, and issued a decree commanding the people to frequent these brothels. that garrison answered his purpose so well that never after did he have to draw the sword against the lydians. "indeed, no bird is more easily caught with bird-lime, no fish is more securely hooked with an appetizing bait, than the masses of the people are lured to servitude by the tickle of the smallest feather, which, as the saying goes, is passed over their lips. theaters, games, farces, spectacles, gladiators, strange beasts, medals, pictures and other trifles were, to the peoples of antiquity, the charms of servitude, the price of their freedom, the instruments of tyranny. "these lures kept the people under the yoke. thus, mentally unnerved, they found the pastimes pleasant, they were amused by the idle spectacles that were paraded before their eyes, and they were habituated to obedience as fully, but not as usefully to themselves, as little children, who, in order to gladden their eyes with the brilliant pictures of illuminated books insensibly learn to read. "the tyrant romans furthermore resorted to the plan of feasting the populace, which can be led by nothing so readily as by the pleasures of the mouth. the cleverest of them all would not have dropped his bowl of soup to recover the liberty of the republic of plato. the tyrants made bountiful donations of wheat, of wine and corn. whereupon the cry went up lustily--_long live the king!_ the dullards did not realize they were receiving but a small portion of what belonged to them, and that even the portion which they received the tyrant would not have it to give, but for his first having taken it away from themselves." "_the cleverest of them all would not have dropped his bowl of soup to recover the republic_," repeated captain mirant. "the fact is shockingly, distressfully true! men become animals when they sacrifice everything to perverse instincts and vulgar appetites. nevertheless, a curse upon all tyrants! it is they who incite these very appetites, in order to rule the heart through the stomach, and the mind through the eyes, by attracting the peoples to tourneys, tilts and such other pageants, amusements that are but disgraceful badges of servitude, and must be paid for by the fruit of the labor of the slaves themselves!" "go to, poor jacques bonhomme!" added the franc-taupin. "fill up your paunch, but bend your back! pay for the gala! gnaw at the bones cast to you, and cry 'thanks!' oh, if only you knew! if only you wanted to! with one shake of your shoulders, both the tyrants and their cohorts would be thrown to the ground!" "no! no!" interjected antonicq. "do not imagine that our tyrants catherine de medici and charles ix are defended mainly by the arquebusiers of their bodyguards, their light mounted horse and their footmen in arms! not at all! just listen to this passage from la boetie's book: "i shall now touch upon a point that is the secret spring of the sway, the support and the foundation of tyranny. he who imagines that the halberdiers of the guard constitute the safety and the bulwark of tyrants is, i hold, greatly in error. no; it is not arms that defend a tyrant. at first blush the point may not be granted, nevertheless it is true. it is only four or five men among his accomplices who uphold a tyrant and who keep the country in servitude to him. it has ever been only five or six who have a tyrant's ear, and are invited by him to be the accomplices of his cruelties, the sharers in his amusements, the go-betweens in his debaucheries, the co-partners in his plunder, these five or six hundred have, in turn, under them five or six who are to them what they themselves are to the tyrant--and these five or six hundred have, in turn, under them five or six thousand thieves among whom they have caused the government of the provinces and the administration of the funds to be distributed, in order that they may cater to the avarice and the cruelty of the tyrant, in order that they may promptly execute his orders, and be ready to do so much mischief that they can hold their places only under the shadow of his authority, nor be able to escape the just punishment of their offences but through him. wide and long is the train that follows these latter ones. whoever cares to amuse himself in tracing the threads of this woof will see that, not the six thousand only, but hundreds of thousands, aye millions depend through that cord upon the tyrant, who, with the aid of the same, can (as jupiter boasts in homer) pull over to himself all the gods by pulling at the chain." "well put! never before has the centralized power of royalty, that fearful engine of tyranny, been more lucidly laid bare!" cried captain mirant. "i am more and more convinced--the federation of the provinces, each independent as to itself, but mutually united by the common bond of their common interests, like the republic of the swiss cantons, is the sole guarantee of freedom. commune and federation!" "now," said antonicq, "do not fail to admire the penetration with which estienne of la boetie traces back the secret punishment that is visited upon tyrants, and the awful consequences of tyranny itself. he says: "from the moment a king has declared himself a tyrant, then, not merely a swarm of thieves and skip-jacks, but all those who are moved by ardent ambition, or overpowering greed, gather around him, and assist him in order to have a share in the booty, and to be, under the great tyrant, petty tyrants themselves. thus it happens with highwaymen and pirates. one set holds the roads, the other rifles the travelers; one set lies in ambush, the other is on the watch; one set massacres, the other plunders. "hence it comes that the tyrant is never loved, and never loves. friendship is a sacred gift, a holy boon! it never exists but among honorable people, it never arises but through mutual esteem. it is preserved, not so much through gifts as by upright conduct. that which makes one friend feel sure of another is the knowledge he has of the other's integrity. the security he holds from his friend is the latter's good character, his faith, his constancy. no friendship can exist where cruelty, disloyalty and injustice hold sway. when malignant people meet, they meet to plot, not for companionship! they do not mutually aid if they mutually fear one another. they are not friends, they are accomplices in crime and felony. "this is the reason why, as the saying goes, there is honor among thieves at the distribution of the booty. they supplement one another, and they are unwilling, by falling out, to reduce their strength. "in that begins the punishment of tyrants. when they die, their execrated name is blackened by the ink of a thousand pens, their reputation is torn to shreds; even their bones, pilloried by posterity, chastise them for their wicked lives. let us then learn to be upright; let us raise our eyes to heaven; let us implore it to bestow upon us the love of virtue. as to me, meseems nothing is so contrary to god as tyranny, and that he reserves for tyrants some special chastisement." "oh, my children!" exclaimed odelin's widow, "that book which breathes such hatred for tyranny and such generous indignation towards cowards that one must doubt divine justice if he can lightly submit to iniquity;--that book, every page of which bears the imprint of the love of virtue and the execration of evil;--that book should be placed in the hands of every lad about to enter manhood. it would be a wholesome and strong nourishment to their souls. from it they would gather a horror for that cowardly and blind voluntary servitude, and then all, in the name of justice, of human dignity, of right, and of honesty, would rise _against-one_, the title of those sublime pages, and they would proclaim everywhere--commune and federation!" "but, aunt," timidly suggested cornelia, "should not that book be also for girls who reach maturity? they become wives and mothers. should not they also be nourished in the love of justice and in the abhorrence of tyranny, to the end that they may bring up their children to virile principles, regain for woman equal rights with man, and share both the self-denial and the dangers of their husbands when the hour of battle and of sacrifice shall have come?" cornelia looked so beautiful as she gave utterance to these patriotic sentiments that all the members of the lebrenn family turned their eyes admiringly toward the young girl. "oh, my brave one!" exclaimed antonicq, rising and taking cornelia's hands in his own with a transport of love. "how proud i am of your love! what generous duties does it not impose upon me! well, it is to be to-morrow--the happy day for you and me--the day when we are to be joined in wedlock!" hardly had antonicq finished his sentence when the tramp of a horse's hoofs was heard in the street. it stopped at the armorer's door. theresa rennepont rose with a start, and ran to the door crying: "my husband!" chapter viii. st. bartholomew's night. the presentiment of the young wife did not deceive her. the door opened and theresa fell into the arms of louis rennepont. the joy of the lebrenn family over the return of one of its members from a distant journey dominated at first all other feelings and thoughts. immediately after the first outpourings of affection the same question escaped at once from all lips: "what tidings from paris, and about admiral coligny?" alas! it was only then that the members of the lebrenn family noticed the profound alteration of louis rennepont's appearance, and his wife, who had been scrutinizing the young man's face with eager and uneasy curiosity, suddenly cried: "great god! louis, your hair has turned grey!" indeed, when louis rennepont left la rochelle towards the end of the previous month, not a thread of silver whitened his raven locks. now they were streaked with broad bands of grey! he seemed to have aged ten years. such a change must have been produced by some terrible and sudden emotion. theresa's exclamation was followed by a mournful silence. all eyes were fixed upon louis rennepont with increasing anxiety. he answered his wife with a trembling voice: "yes, theresa; yes, my friends; my hair turned grey in one night--the night before st. bartholomew's day--the night of the d of this month of august, of this year, !" and still shuddering with terror, his chest convulsed with repressed sobs, the young man hid his face in his hands and muttered: "my god! my god!" presently the young man recovered sufficient composure to proceed. "do you all remember," he said, solemnly addressing the stupefied members of his family, "the infernal scheme of catherine de medici that our poor anna bell overheard during the queen's conversation with loyola's disciple lefevre at the abbey of st. severin?" "great god!" cried antonicq. "the scheme of massacring all the protestants, disarmed by the peace?" "the massacre, begun in paris under my own eyes, during the night before st. bartholomew," answered louis rennepont with an effort, "that massacre is proceeding at this very hour in almost all the large cities of france!" "oh!" exclaimed captain mirant. "in sight of such a stupendous crime one's head is seized with vertigo--one is not certain of himself--one asks himself whether he is awake, or dreams." "by my sister's death! we are not dreaming!" ejaculated the franc-taupin. "friends, if we look down at a stream running under our feet, it often happens that, for a moment, our head turns. that is what we are now experiencing. we see at our feet a torrent flowing, a torrent of blood--the blood of our brothers!" "a curse upon my head," thundered the boilermaker barbot, raising his clenched fist to the ceiling, "if the blood of the catholics does not run, if not in torrents, at least drop by drop, before la rochelle! let them come and attack us!" "they will come," put in captain mirant. "they are surely on the march now! our ramparts shall be our grave! god be thanked, we shall not be slaughtered like cattle in the shambles! we shall die like men!" cornelia, pale and motionless like a statue of sorrow, her arms crossed over her palpitating bosom, and her face bathed in tears, remained in mute consternation until this moment. the girl now took two steps towards her betrothed and said to him in a trembling voice: "antonicq, to-morrow we were to be married--people in mourning do not marry. from this instant i wear mourning for our brothers, massacred on st. bartholomew's night! a woman owes obedience to her husband, according to our laws--iniquitous, degrading laws! i wish to remain free until after the war." "cornelia, the hour of sacrifices has sounded," answered antonicq with a trembling voice; "my courage shall vie with yours." "we have paid our tribute to human weakness," observed odelin's widow, smothering a sob; "let us now bravely face the magnitude of the disaster that has smitten our cause. louis, we listen to your account of st. bartholomew's night." "when a few weeks ago i left for paris, i concluded i would, in passing through poitiers, angers and orleans, visit several of our pastors in order to ascertain whether they also shared our apprehensions. some i found completely set at ease by the loyal execution of the last edict, above all by the certainty of the marriage of henry of bearn with the sister of charles ix. they looked upon this as a pledge of the good intentions of the king, and of the end of the religious conflicts. other pastors, on the contrary, felt vaguely uneasy. being convinced that joan of albert was poisoned by catherine de medici, they saw with no little apprehension what they considered the heedless confidence that admiral coligny placed in the court. but in short, the vast majority of our brothers felt perfectly at ease. "immediately upon my arrival at paris i proceeded to bethisy street, the residence of admiral coligny. i expressed to him the fears that agitated the rochelois concerning his life, so precious to our cause, and their mistrust of charles ix and his mother. the admiral's answer was: 'the only thing that keeps me back at court is the almost positive prospect of flanders and the low countries rising against the bloodthirsty tyranny of philip ii. only the support of france could insure the success of the revolt. if those rich industrial provinces secede from spain, they will be the promised land to our brothers. these will find there a refuge, not as to-day, behind the ramparts of a very few cities of safety, but either in the walloon provinces, which will have become french territory under solid guarantees for their freedom, or in the low countries, which will be federated upon a republican plan, in imitation of the swiss cantons, under the protectorate of the prince of nassau. by family tradition, and on principle, i am attached to the monarchic form of government. but i am well aware that many of our brothers, you of la rochelle among them, shocked at the crimes of the reigning house, are strongly inclined towards a republic. to these, the federation of the low countries, should the same be established, will offer a form of government to their taste.' 'but, admiral,' i replied, 'suppose our suspicions prove true, and the help that the king and his mother have so long been holding out the prospect of proves to be but a lure to hide some new trap?' 'i do not think so,' rejoined admiral coligny, 'although it may be. one must be ready for anything from catherine de medici and her son.' 'but,' i cried, 'admiral, how can you, despite such doubts entertained by yourself, remain here at court, among your mortal enemies! do you take no precautions to protect yourself against a possible, if not probable, act of treachery?' 'my friend,' was the admiral's reply given in a grave and melancholy tone, 'for long years i have conducted that sort of war which, above all others, is the most frightful and atrocious--civil war. it inspires me with insurmountable horror. an uprising in flanders and the low countries offers me the means of putting an end to the shedding of french blood and of securing a new and safe country to our brothers. it will be one way or the other--either the king's promises are sincere, or they are not. if they are i would consider it a crime to wreck through impatience or mistrust the success of a plan that promises so favorable a future to the protestants.' 'and if the king should not be sincere,' i inquired, 'if his promises have no object other than to gain time to the end of insuring the success of some new and frightful treachery?' 'in that event, my friend, i shall be the victim of the treachery,' calmly answered coligny. 'is it my life they are after? i have long since offered it up as a sacrifice to god. moreover, only day before yesterday, i declared to the king that, after the suppression of the revolt at mons, as a consequence of which lanoüe, my best friend, fell a prisoner into the hands of the spaniards, france should no longer hesitate to give her support to the insurrection of the low countries against philip ii.' 'and what did the king say to that? did he give you any guarantee of his honest intentions?' 'the king,' coligny answered me, 'said this to me: "_my good father, here are the nuptials of my sister margot approaching; grant me only a week longer of pleasures and enjoyment, after which, i swear to you, by the word of a king, you and your friends will all be satisfied with me._"'" at this passage louis rennepont interrupted his narrative and cried with a shudder: "would you believe it, my friends, charles ix addressed these ambiguous and perfidious words to coligny on the th of august--and on the night of the rd the massacre of our brothers took place!" "oh, these kings!" exclaimed marcienne, raising her eyes to heaven. "these kings! the sweat of our brows no longer suffices to slake their thirst. they are glutted with that--they now joke preparatorily to murder!" "by my sister's death!" shouted the franc-taupin, furiously. "the admiral must have been smitten with blindness. acquainted as he was from a long and bitter experience with that tyrant whelp, that tiger cub, how is it he did not take warning from the double sense that the king's words carried! what imprudence!" "alas, far from it!" said louis rennepont. "in answer to the remarks i made to him, calling his attention to the suspiciousness of the king's words, a suspiciousness rendered all the more glaring by reason of the tyrant's character, the admiral merely replied: 'if they are after my life, would they not long ago have killed me, in the course of these six months that i have been at court?' 'but monsieur,' i observed, 'it is not your life only that is threatened; they probably aim also at the lives of all our protestant leaders. our enemies rely upon your example, upon your presence at court, and upon the festivities of the marriage of henry of bearn, to attract our principal men to paris--then to strike them all down at the giving of a signal, and to massacre the rest of our brothers all over france. do you forget the scheme that catherine de medici talked over with the jesuit lefevre?' 'no, no, my friend,' he replied serenely, 'my heart and my judgment refuse to believe such a monstrous plan possible; it exceeds the bounds of human wickedness. the most reckless tyrants, whose names have caused the earth to grow pale, never dreamed of anything even remotely approaching such a horrible crime--it would be nameless!" "that crime now has a name--it is called 'st. bartholomew's night'!" said cornelia with a shudder. "what will be the name of the vengeance?" "mayhap the vengeance will be called the 'siege of la rochelle'!" answered captain mirant, the girl's father. "our walls are strong, and resolute are our hearts." "the war will be a bloody one!" interjected master barbot the boilermaker. louis rennepont proceeded with his narrative: "i left admiral coligny, unable to awaken his suspicions. he went to his chatillon home, spent two days in that retreat so beloved of him, and returned to paris on the th of august, the eve of the marriage of henry of bearn and princess marguerite. the union of a protestant prince with a catholic princess, in which so many of us saw the end of the religious struggles, drew to paris almost all the protestant leaders. i shall mention, among those whom i visited, monsieur la rochefoucauld, monsieur la force, and brave colonel piles. apprehending no treason, they all shared the expectations of coligny with respect to the revolt in the low countries. the feeling of safety that prevailed among my brothers gained upon me also. the marriage of henry of bearn and princess marguerite took place on the th of this month. from that day to the st there was a perpetual round of splendid festivities and general merrymaking at court and in the city. i took up my lodgings at the sign of the swan, on st. thomas-of-the-louvre street, not far from the residence of monsieur coligny. the inn-keeper was of our people. on the d he came to my room at about nine in the morning and said to me with surprise not unmixed with alarm: 'something strange is going on. i just learned that the provosts of each quarter of the city are going from house to house inquiring about the religion of the tenants, and noting down the huguenots. the reason given is that a general census of the population is wanted. subsequently,' the inn-keeper proceeded to say, 'the regiment of the arquebusiers of the guard entered paris. finally, i learn that last night a large number of arms, especially cutlasses and daggers, were transported to the city hall. i received this information from my niece. she is a catholic and a chamber maid of the duchess of nevers. the taking of a list of the huguenots in town, the arrival of a whole regiment of arquebusiers of the guard, and finally the conveying of such large stores of arms to the city hall, seem to me to foreshadow some plot against the protestants. i wish you would notify the admiral of these occurrences.' the inn-keeper's advice seemed wise to me. i hastened to bethisy street and knocked at the admiral's house. he was not home. as was his habit, he had departed early in the morning to the louvre. his old equerry nicholas mouche, to whom i imparted some of my information, seemed not a little startled. we agreed to proceed to the entrance of the palace and wait for the admiral. we were passing by the cloister of st. germain-l'auxerois, where several houses were in the course of construction, when we caught sight of coligny returning on foot and followed by two of his serving men. he was reading a letter, and walked slowly. we hastened our steps to meet him. suddenly we were blinded by the flash of a firearm, fired from the ground floor window of one of the houses contiguous to the cloister. nicholas mouche rushed to his master, screaming: 'help! the admiral is assassinated! help! help!'" a cry of horror leaped from the lips of all the members of the lebrenn family, who followed breathlessly the report of louis rennepont. captain mirant exclaimed: "murder and treason! to kill that great man in such a way! vengeance! vengeance!" "no," put in louis rennepont with a painful effort. "monsieur coligny, killed by a bullet, would at least have met a soldier's death. i followed close upon the heels of nicholas mouche and reached him at the moment when coligny, pale but calm, pointed to the window from which the shot was fired, and said: 'the shot came from there.' the arquebus was loaded with two balls. one carried off the admiral's left thumb, while the other lodged in his arm near the elbow. weakened by the loss of blood, that ran profusely, coligny said to nicholas mouche: 'if i leaned upon your arm i could walk to my house--proceed!' in fact, he walked home. several protestant officers happened to be not far behind. upon learning of the crime that was committed, they forced their way into the house where the would-be assassin had lain in ambush. they were informed that he fled through a rear door, where a saddled horse, held by a page in the guise livery, stood waiting for him. their searches proved vain. no trace of the assassin could they find." "the guises! always the guisards, either directly guilty, or the accomplices of assassins!" exclaimed odelin's widow with a shudder. "with how much blood have not those lorrainian princes reddened their hands since the butcheries of vassy! but did monsieur coligny's wound prove fatal?" "no, unfortunately for the admiral--because the very next day--" louis rennepont broke off suddenly. "do you want to know, mother, whether the guises were accomplices in the attempted murder upon the admiral? yes, they had their hands in that fresh misdeed, at the instigation of the queen-mother. and here a plot begins to unroll itself, the deep villainy of which would seem incredible if catherine de medici and her son were not known. presently i shall tell you from whom i have my information; it is reliable. in line with the conversation which she had with the jesuit lefevre, and which anna bell overheard, catherine de medici hated and feared the guises no less than she did the admiral. her scheme was to cause the admiral to be assassinated by the guises; then to rid herself of them through the protestants; and finally to rid herself of the protestants by the king's soldiers. does such an infernal combination seem impracticable to you? well, it came near succeeding. this was the plot: the guises continued to slander the admiral by accusing him of having suborned poltrot who killed francis of guise at the siege of orleans; the old family hatred burned as implacable as ever. on the day after the marriage of henry of bearn, the queen and her son charles ix said with much unction to henry of guise that, in order to preserve the confidence of the huguenots and the admiral, it was necessary to seem to give him a pledge of reconciliation, to request of him that the flames of hatred, so long burning in the breasts of the two families, be extinguished, and to offer him the hand of friendship. all the more reassured by the cordial advance, the admiral was expected to be thrown still more off his guard, and his assassination was considered all the more certain! the queen offered for the deed a man after her own and the king's heart--maurevert, surnamed the 'king's killer,' since his assassination of brave mouy, a crime for which the felon received the collar of the order of st. michael. the queen's advice was relished. young guise gave his hand to the old admiral, and two days later monsieur coligny, on his return from the louvre, received a load of arquebus shot from--maurevert!" louis rennepont stopped for a moment, and then proceeded amid the profound silence of the family: "by wounding, instead of killing coligny, the 'king's killer' ruined the project of the queen and her son. they had counted upon the murder of the admiral to incite a great tumult in paris; their agents were to scatter among the mob the information that the heinous murder was the work of the guisards; the exasperated huguenots were expected to run to arms and avenge coligny's death with the massacre of the whole guise family and their partisans; that done, the royal troops were in turn to overwhelm the protestants, on the pretext of being guilty of a flagrant breach of the edict of pacification. the last massacre was to extend from paris all over france, under the guise of a vindication of the outraged edict of pacification. machiavelli could not have plotted better. the arquebus shot of maurevert would have rid charles ix at once of coligny, the guises and the protestants. the 'king's killer' having missed fire, another course had to be pursued, and, above all, the reformers had to be convinced that maurevert's attempt was merely an act of individual vengeance. accordingly charles ix hastened to the admiral's residence. the tiger-cub wept. he called the old admiral his 'good father.' he promised, 'upon the word of a king, however high the station of the would-be murderers, they should not escape just punishment.' i was an eye-witness of those tears and royal protestations; many of our brothers, myself among them, remained near the bed where coligny lay while awaiting the surgeon. we were present at that interview with charles ix--" "then you saw him, louis, that tiger with the face of a man?" asked cornelia with a curiosity born of disgust and horror. "how does the monster look?" "pale and atrabilious of face, with dull, glassy eyes, and a sleepy look, as if the fervent catholic and crowned murderer were ever dreaming of crime," answered louis rennepont. "now watch the sanguinary craftiness of that pupil of machiavelli's, to whom neither pledge nor oath is aught but a more effective form of perfidy. would you believe it, that after having expressed sympathy for the wounds of his 'good father,' and after having pledged his royal word to secure justice, the first words of charles ix were: 'i shall forthwith issue orders to close the gates of paris, so that none shall leave the city; the murderer will not be able to flee. moreover, i authorize, or rather i strongly urge the protestant seigneurs, to whom i have offered the hospitality of the louvre during the nuptial festivals of my sister margot, to summon their friends near them for safeguard.'" "i perceive the trick of the tiger," broke in captain mirant. "by closing the gates of paris he prevented the escape of the huguenots whom he had consigned to death!" "no doubt," added master barbot the boilermaker, "the same as by inducing the protestant seigneurs, who were lodged at the louvre, to summon their friends to them, charles ix only aimed at having them more ready at hand for his butchers!" "the issue proved that such were the secret designs of the king," replied louis rennepont. "but haste was urgent. if tidings of the attempted murder of the admiral reached the provinces, the huguenots would be put on their guard. the queen assembled her council that very night, and presided at its meeting. these were the members at the council: the king charles ix; his brother, the duke of anjou; the bastard of angouleme; the duke of nevers; birago and gondi, the queen's messengers of evil. it was decided that the butchery should start at early dawn. the provosts of the merchants, all exemplary catholics, had, under pretext of taking a general census, drawn up full lists of all the huguenots in the city. their places of residence being thus accurately indicated, the assassins would know exactly where to go. the next question that came up was whether henry of bearn also was to be killed. catherine de medici and her son, the king, were strongly in favor, and urged the necessity of the murder. the other councillors, however, more scrupulous than their monarchs, objected that the whole world would be shocked at the assassination of a prince whose throat was cut, so to say, under the very eyes of the mother and brother of his wife. moreover, the young prince was lightheaded, unsteady of purpose, they thought, and without any rooted religious belief. it would be easy, they concluded, either by means of promises or threats to cause him to abjure the reformed religion. the death of the prince of condé was also long discussed. twice the decision was in favor. but his brother-in-law, the duke of nevers, saved him by guaranteeing the prince's abjuration. for the rest, the lad, only the rallying ground of the huguenots and without personal valor, inspired but little fear, especially if compared with coligny. towards one o'clock in the morning, the young duke of guise was summoned to the louvre and introduced to the council. the principal leadership of the carnage was offered to and accepted by him. a strange thing happened. at the last moment, charles ix was assailed by some slight qualms of conscience at the thought of the murder of the admiral, the old man whom that very morning he had addressed with the title of 'my good father.' but the king's hesitance was short-lived. his last words were: 'by the death of god! seeing you think the admiral should be killed, i will it, too; but i demand that all the huguenots be killed, all, to the last one, that there may not be one left alive to reproach me with the admiral's death'!" "oh, just god!" exclaimed odelin's widow, raising her hands to heaven. "since you consented to the unheard-of deed, oh, god of vengeance, you must have reserved some frightful punishment for him! oh, you gave your consent to that palace plot! to that nocturnal council! there charles ix, armed with sovereign power, and certain of the ferocious obedience of his soldiers and his minions, like an assassin in ambush in the edge of a forest, laid in the dark the infamous, bloody and cowardly trap into which, when they awoke, so many of our brothers, who went to sleep confiding in the law, in their right and in the oath of that prince, fell to their death! how many times did he not swear in the presence of god and man to respect the edict of peace! yes, you allowed those horrors, o, god of vengeance, to the end that this frankish royalty and the roman church, its eternal accomplice, soon may fall under the general execration that the massacre of st. bartholomew will arouse! death to kings! death to their infamous accomplices, the nobles and priests!" the lebrenn family joined with hearts and lips in the widow's imprecations. when the excitement again subsided louis rennepont proceeded: "before retiring that night to my inn, i walked through a large number of streets. at least in appearance they were quiet. i met many of our brothers. alarmed at the attempted murder of the admiral, several had tried to leave paris. they found the gates rigorously closed by orders of charles ix. back at night in my inn, i did not find the keeper, upon whom i relied for further information. broken with fatigue and agitated by vague fears, i threw myself in my clothes upon my bed and fell asleep. at about three in the morning i was awakened by my inn-keeper. he was trembling with terror. 'the death of all the protestants of paris is decreed,' he whispered to me; 'the massacre is to begin at daybreak. my niece, the chambermaid of the duchess of nevers, overheard some words about the plot; she hastened to warn me. i have notified all our brothers who are lodged here. they have all fled. your only chance to escape the carnage is to join the first gang of the cut-throats whom you may run across; you must pretend to be of them; you may in that way be able to reach some place of safety. for a sign among themselves they have a white paper cross attached to their hats, and a white shirt sleeve slipped like an armlet over the sleeve of their coats. their password is: "god and the king!" flee! flee! may the lord protect you! thanks to my niece i have a safe retreat in the palace of nevers.' while the inn-keeper was giving me these last directions, there came through my window, which i had left open on that hot and sultry night of august, the measured tintinnabulation of the large bell in the tower of the palace. the sound seemed to leap strangely from the depths of the silence in which the city was shrouded. 'it is the signal for the massacre!' cried my inn-keeper, leaving the room precipitately and whispering his last warnings to me: 'flee! you have not a minute to spare; my house is marked! it will be instantly assaulted by the butchers!'" "great god!" cried theresa, louis rennepont's young wife, pressing her child distractedly to her breast, and unable to hold back her tears. and addressing her husband: "you are here, near us, safe and sound, poor friend! and yet i shiver. i weep at the thought of the cruel agonies that you must have undergone. did you follow the inn-keeper's advice, and assume the signs of the catholics?" "it was my only safety. i cut a cross of white paper and stuck it in my hat; i cut off a shirt sleeve and thrust my right arm through it; i then sallied out into the street. it was still silent and deserted. but the funeral knell from all the paris churches had by that time joined the clangor of the tower bell, which then was ringing at its loudest. windows were thrown open. little by little lights appeared in them." "malediction upon the people of paris!" cried odelin's widow. "it seems most of them were accomplices in the butchery!" "alas, yes, mother! to their eternal shame, the fact must be admitted; the people of paris were the accomplices of charles ix, and our butchers! the people and a considerable portion of the bourgeoisie, being drugged by the fanaticism of the monks, did take part in the massacre. some, yielding to the fear of being suspected, obeyed the orders of the provosts, and placed lights at their windows at the sound of the first strokes of the bells that they heard. my first thought was to run to the residence of the admiral and notify him of the projected butchery. as i entered bethisy street i saw men emerging from several houses; all carried white crosses in their hats and their arms in shirt sleeves. they brandished pikes, swords and cutlasses, and cried: 'god and the king! kill! kill all the huguenots!' they then gathered into groups, drew themselves up before certain doors that bore the mark of a cross in white chalk, beat upon and broke them down, and rushed in yelling: 'kill! kill the huguenots!' "i was rushing towards the residence of the admiral when i saw a battalion of arquebusiers of the guard turn into bethisy street. the troop was headed by the young duke henry of guise, accompanied by his uncle aumale and the bastard of angouleme, brother of charles ix. all three were clad in war armor. pages carrying lighted torches preceded them. among the soldiers were interspersed a large number of catholic cut-throats, recognizable by the signs which i also wore. i mixed with them. the crowd arrived before coligny's residence. the soldiers knocked at the main door with the butts of their arquebuses. it was instantly opened. despite the prompt obedience shown, all the serving-men of coligny found in the corridor and the yard were promptly done to death. the guises and the bastard of angouleme, surrounded by their pages, remained outside in front of the facade of the house at the foot of the porch, the stairs of which led to the vestibule. duke henry of guise made a sign; instantly his equerry besmes, followed by captains cosseins, cardillac, altain and petrucci, rushed forward with a detachment of soldiers and dashed up the stairs to the first floor, on which the admiral's room was. i realized the admiral was lost, and remained unobserved below among the catholics, where the details of the murder were soon reported. awakened by the outcry of his servants, and the tumult on the street, the admiral guessed the fate that awaited him. his faithful nicholas mouche and pastor merlin were with him. they had watched all night at his bedside. 'our hour has come; let us commend our souls to god!' said coligny, with which words he rose from his bed, threw a morning gown over his shoulders and knelt down. the minister and his old servant knelt down beside him. the three began to pray. the door was broken in. besmes, the equerry of henry of guise, was the first to enter, sword in hand, leading in his captains. he walked straight to coligny, who, having finished his prayer was rising from the floor serene and dignified. 'is it you who are the admiral?' shouted besmes; 'well, you shall die!' 'the will of god be done! young man, you shorten my life only a few days,' answered coligny. these were that great man's last words. besmes seized him by the throat with one hand, and with the other thrust his sword through him. the old man sank on his knees. captain cardillac threw him down, and opened his throat with one slash of his dagger. the other officers despatched merlin and nicholas mouche. "i had remained below. there i witnessed an even more execrable scene. only a minute or two after the murderers had rushed upstairs, the duke of guise stepped closer to the facade of the house and called out impatiently in a ringing voice: 'well, besmes! is it done?' thereupon a casement was thrown open on the first floor; the equerry appeared at the window holding his bloody sword in his hand, and answered: 'yes, monseigneur! it is done! he is dead!' 'then throw the corpse down to us that we may see it!' commanded henry of guise. besmes vanished, and reappeared dragging, with the aid of captain cosseins, the corpse of admiral coligny; the two raised it--meseems i still behold the grey head of the venerable old man, pale and limp, as the body was pushed out of the window, with his lifeless arms swinging in space. besmes and the captain made a final effort; the corpse was precipitated upon the pavement, where it rolled down at the feet of the duke of guise. coligny was clad only in the morning gown that he had hurriedly put on. thus half-naked and still warm he was hurled out of the window. the venerable head rebounded upon the cobblestones and reddened them with blood. the victim had fallen on his face. the duke of guise stooped down, and, aided by the bastard of angouleme, turned the corpse over on its back, wiped with his sash the blood that covered the admiral's august visage, contemplated it for a moment with ferocious glee, and then kicked the white head with the tip of his boot, crying: 'at last! dead at last--thoroughly dead!' the duke then turned to his henchmen: 'comrades, let us proceed with our work! the pope wills it! the king so orders it!' almost fainting with sickening horror and unable to move, i witnessed this cannibal scene--it was only the prelude for another and still more horrifying one. the dukes of guise and of aumale and the bastard of angouleme departed with their soldiers from monsieur coligny's courtyard. almost immediately the same was invaded by a band of men, women and children in rags. they were a troop hideous to look upon, as they brandished their sticks, butcher knives and iron bars, under the leadership of a cordelier monk who held a jagged cutlass in one hand and a crucifix in the other, yelling at the top of his voice: 'god and the king!' the howlings of the mob kept time to the monk's yells. two men with hang-dog looks carried torches before the monk. the moment that he recognized the corpse of our martyr, the cordelier emitted a screech of infernal glee, threw himself upon the lifeless body of the admiral, squatted down upon its chest, sawed at the neck with his cutlass, severed the head from the trunk, seized it by its grey locks, and held it up to the mob, crying in a resonant, though cracked voice: 'this is the share of the holy father! i shall send him coligny's head to rome!'[ ]--that monk," added louis rennepont in a tremulous voice, and answering a cry of execration that leaped from the hearts of his listeners, "that monk, o shame and o misfortune!--that monk was the assassin of odelin! oh, may god have pity upon us!" "fra hervé!" exclaimed all the members of the lebrenn family in chorus. a silence of terror and horror reigned in the armorer's hall. "i wish to come quickly to an end with these monstrosities," proceeded louis rennepont, catching his voice. "after the tiger come the jackals, after the ferocious beasts the unclean ones. hardly had fra hervé severed the admiral's head from his trunk, amid the hideous acclamations of the ragged crew, when they fell upon the corpse. its feet and hands were cut off. the entrails were torn out of the abdomen and were struggled for by the human jackals. the sacrilegious mutilations seemed to go beyond the boundaries of the horrible, and yet the limit was not reached. women, veritable furies, pounced upon the bleeding limbs, and--but i dare say no more before mother, or before cornelia, nor before you, my wife. the stentorian voice of fra hervé finally silenced the tumult and quelled the anthropophagous orgie. 'brothers!' he cried, 'to the pope i shall send the head of this huguenot carrion, but let us carry the stripped carcass to the gibbet of montfaucon! it is there that should be exposed the remains of the villain who has infested france with his heresy, and lacerated the bosom of our holy mother the roman catholic and apostolic church!' 'to montfaucon with the huguenot carrion!' howled the ferocious band. a procession was improvised. fra hervé sheathed his cutlass, planted the admiral's head on the point of a pike, and raised the trophy in one hand. in the other he waved aloft his crucifix, and, lighted by his two torch-bearers, headed the procession. the now shapeless remnants of the corpse were tied to a rope, a team of cut-throats harnessed to it, and the bloody lump was dragged through the gutters. the procession marched to the cry of 'to montfaucon with the huguenot carrion! god and the king!' at that moment, and despite the terror that held me rooted to the ground, my inn-keeper's last suggestions occurred to me. montfaucon was situated outside of the walls of paris. no doubt some city gate would be opened to the cordelier's band. i joined it, in the hope of escaping from paris. we left the courtyard of monsieur coligny's house. it was now broad day. before proceeding to montfaucon, fra hervé wished to exhibit his bloody trophy to the eyes of charles ix and his mother. we directed our course to the louvre. other scenes of carnage were taking place there. the protestant seigneurs and officers who came in the suite of the princes of bearn and condé to participate in the wedding festivities of the king's sister, were lodged at the palace. relying upon the royal hospitality, they were taken by surprise while asleep, dragged half naked to the courtyard, and there either brained or stabbed to death. among others whom i recognized at a distance were morge, pardillan, st. martin, besides the brave veterans piles, baudine and puy-vaud. they struggled in their shirts against the soldiers who beat them down with their halberds, and then stripped the corpses of their last shreds of clothing. the moanings, the imprecations of the victims, the streams of steaming blood through which we tramped, and that often reached our ankles, made my head reel. the butchers laid the corpses out in rows in front of the facade of the louvre. the bodies were yet warm; many a bloody limb still seemed to palpitate; the corpses lay stripped naked, upon their backs. i counted over four hundred. suddenly there appeared catherine de medici accompanied by her maids of honor and other ladies of the court. she mounted a terrace from which a full sight of the carnage could be had. they came--" louis rennepont stopped short. he hid his face in his hands. "alas! i have to inform you of something still more horrible than anything i have yet said! the furies who profaned the corpse of coligny were beings, who, depraved by misery and ignorance, and besotted by a brutish paganism, yielded obedience to fanatic promptings. but catherine de medici and the women of her suite were brought up in the splendors of court life, and yet they came to mock and insult the bodies of the dead. and would you believe it--" but again louis rennepont found it impossible to proceed. "no!" he cried; "i shall not soil your ears with the nameless infamies of those worse than harpies.[ ] while catherine de medici, her maids of honor and a bevy of court ladies were amusing themselves on the terrace, fra hervé, still carrying coligny's head on the point of the pike, addressed to the queen a few words that i did not hear, my attention being at that moment diverted by the appearance of charles ix at the balcony of one of the windows of the louvre. the king held a long arquebus in his hand; a page carried another of identical shape and stood behind his master ready to pass it over to him. suddenly i saw the king lower the arm, take aim, blow upon the fuse on the cock, approach it to the pan--and the shot departed. charles ix raised his arquebus, looked into the distance, and started to laugh--pleased as a hunter who has brought down his game. the monster with a human face was firing upon the huguenots who were fleeing from the butchery in the st. germain quarter, and were attempting to escape death by swimming across the seine. "after haranguing catherine de medici, fra hervé resumed his march to montfaucon at the head of his band, dragging behind them the now shapeless remains of the admiral. i had to cross paris almost from one end to the other in the wake of fra hervé's procession. in the course of the march my eyes encountered fresh horrors. we ran across marshal tavannes, the commander of the royal army at the battle of roche-la-belle. at the head of a regiment of the guards he was urging his men and the mobs to massacre, shouting to them: 'kill! bleed them! bleed them! a bleeding is good in august as well as in may!' and his men did the bleeding. they bled so well that the gutters ran no longer water but blood. the smoldering hatreds of neighbors against neighbors were now given a loose to, under the pretext of religious fervor. among a thousand atrocities that i witnessed on that frightful day, i shall mention but one, because it exceeds any other that i have yet mentioned. when i first arrived in paris, and despite the apprehensions that were uppermost on my mind, i often went to the lectures of the illustrious scientist remus. the man's renown, he being one of the most celebrated professors at the university, besides enjoying the reputation of a foremost philanthropist of these days, attracted me. i found students, grown-up men and even greyheads crowding around his chair. well, holding close to fra hervé's band, i passed by the house of remus, which the cut-throats had invaded. a large concourse of people blocked our way, and interrupted our march for awhile. the mob clamored aloud for the life of the celebrated scientist. the most frantic in their cries for the murder were a bunch of pupils, between fourteen and fifteen years of age, whom two monks--a carmelite and a dominican--had in lead. the assassins finally pushed remus, half naked, out of his house. the unhappy man, already wounded in many places, and blinded by the blood that streamed down his face, staggered like a drunken man, and held his hands before him. i see him yet--he falls to the ground, they despatch him, and thereupon the pupils, boys yet, throw themselves upon the corpse of the scientist, rip his bowels open, tear out the steaming entrails, turn the body around, raise the bloody shirt that barely covered it, and thrash the corpse with its own intestines amid roars of laughter, while they shout: 'remus has whipped enough of us, it is now our turn to whip him.' "fra hervé's band again resumed its march. it arrived at one of the city gates that leads to the gibbet of montfaucon. as i had hoped, the gate was thrown open before the cordelier. i slackened my pace, fell to the rear of the procession, and, at the first practicable turn on the road, i jumped aside and blotted myself out of sight in a wheat field. the tall stalks concealed me completely. i waited till fra hervé's band was a safe distance away. i crept to the road that encircles the ramparts and towards sunset i arrived, worn out with fatigue, at an inn where i spent the night, giving myself out for a good catholic. early in the morning i started for etampes. they had just finished the carnage when i arrived! it was still going on in orleans when i passed that city. at blois, at angers, at poitiers--the same massacres of our brothers. thus, after long years of hypocrisy and craftiness, the pact of the triumvirate inspired by francis of guise, the butcher of vassy, was finally carried out. oh, my friends! not for nothing did catherine de medici say to the jesuit lefevre: 'induce the holy father and philip ii to be patient; let us lull the reformers with a false sense of safety; i shall hatch the bloody egg that the guise laid--on one day, at the same hour, the huguenots will be exterminated in france.' the italian woman kept her promise. the shell of the egg, nursed in her bosom, has broken, and the extermination has leaped out full armed." odelin's widow rose to her feet pale and stately. she raised one of her venerable hands to heaven, and with a gesture of malediction she uttered these words, solemnly, amidst the profound silence of her family: "be they eternally accursed of god and man, who, from this day or in the centuries to come, do not repudiate the church of rome, that infamous church, the only church that has ever given birth to such misdeeds!" "by my sister's death!" cried the franc-taupin. "shall the voice of estienne of la boetie be hearkened to at last? shall we at last see _all_ leagued _against one?_ the oppressed, the artisans, the plebs, finally annihilate the oppressor and crush royalty?" hardly had the franc-taupin finished speaking when james henry, the mayor of la rochelle, entered precipitately, and addressing louis rennepont, said: "my friend, the few words dropped by you to some of the people whom you met on your arrival, have flown from mouth to mouth and thrown the city into a state of alarm! is it true that monsieur coligny has been assassinated?" "monsieur coligny has been assassinated! all the protestant leaders are murdered!" answered louis rennepont. "all the protestants of paris were massacred on st. bartholomew's night! at etampes, at orleans, at blois, at tours, at poitiers, the work of extermination is still in progress. it was expected to steep in blood the rest of france as well. it is a fact!" "to arms! and may the lord protect us!" shouted james henry vigorously. "let us make ready for a desperate defense. la rochelle is now the only safe city left to the huguenots. charles ix will not be long in laying siege to us. i shall order the belfry to ring. the city council shall be in session within an hour. it shall proclaim la rochelle in a state of danger. to arms! war to the knife against the king and his catholics, against the assassins of our brothers! to arms!" chapter ix. the siege of la rochelle. for the first time in their lives did charles ix, his mother and her priests discover that there was a limit to endurance. the crime so long elaborated, so skilfully planned, and carried out with incredible audacity, so far from annihilating the reformation gave it fresh life, steeled its nerves, and rendered it unconquerable. hardly had two months elapsed since the massacres of st. bartholomew, when, not huguenots only, but a considerable portion of the catholic party itself, in open revolt at the cruel excesses of the court, the fanaticism of the papacy and the subjection of france to the exactions of philip ii, took up arms, and made common cause with the huguenots in order to bring about the triumph not only of the religious but of a political reformation also. the new adversaries of charles ix and his mother took the name of the "politicals." alarmed at the renewed and more threatening attitude of the now so unexpectedly reinforced huguenots, the king endeavored once more to beguile them with false promises. he doubled and twisted, sought to deal and compromise. it was too late. a fourth religious war broke out. several provinces federated together upon a republican plan. la rochelle became the fortified center of the protestants. against that city charles ix concentrated and directed all his forces in the course of the last month of the year --less than six months after st. bartholomew's night. la rochelle, situated at the further extremity of a wide and safe bay, presented the aspect of an elongated trapezium, the wide side of which was about three thousand feet in length, while the narrow one was only twelve hundred feet, and faced the sea. the city extended from north-east to southwest, and stretched between the salt marshes of rompsai, maubec and tasdon, on the east, and those of the new gate, on the west. these marshes, then partly dried or turned into meadows, were intersected by a large number of canals the locks of which enabled the land to be readily inundated, and presented an impassable barrier to any hostile force. the entrance of the port was at the center of the sea frontage, and at the further end of the bay. it was defended by the two large towers of chaine and st. nicholas, both built of brick, equipped with cannon, and also used for powder magazines. to the right and left of the two towers, and leaving between them the narrow port entrance, extended a wall made of cut stone which at high tide was washed by the waves. the wall reached, to the east, the st. nicholas gate, and, to the west, the lantern gate, at the summit of which was a beacon to guide the sailors by night. from that side the city was unapproachable by an armed force except along a narrow tongue of land which joined the suburb of tasdon with the st. nicholas gate. furthermore, besides the water-filled fosse, scipio vergano, a skilful italian engineer, employed by us, the rochelois, had raised an additional protection to this gate by a sort of double counter-guard made of earth, and flanking the entrance of the port. the eastern front which extended from the st. nicholas gate to the congues gate, was along its whole extent but a poor wall, flanked by two round towers. it was one of the weak sides of our city. the western front ran in a straight line from the lantern tower to the bastion that we called the bastion of the evangelium. this portion of the fortifications consisted of a wall flanked by a large number of small and closely built towers, with occasional terraces. in the middle of this long line of defenses, which the large number of canals rendered almost unapproachable, scipio vergano cut the new gate, flanked with a solid bastion. finally the north front extended from the bastion of the evangelium to the congues gate, a distance of nearly two thousand five hundred feet. the left extremity of that vast and very vulnerable front was defended by the bastion of the evangelium, which was itself protected by a terrace of earth. in the center and the highest spot of the line rose the demi-bastion of the old fountain. true enough, it commanded the whole plain, but both the slightness of its projection and the insufficiency of its flanks unfitted it for real purposes of defense. this bastion covered the ramparts but imperfectly. such, oh, sons of joel, was the aspect of the fortifications of la rochelle, the bulwark of the reformation and of freedom, the holy city against which charles ix was about to hurl his catholic hordes and the most powerful army ever commanded by his generals. i, antonicq lebrenn, kept a sort of diary of the siege of la rochelle, and of the defense made by its inhabitants, among whom our own family combated gloriously. * * * * * september , .--informed of the massacre of st. bartholomew, and foreseeing that the huguenots would once more take up arms, the rochelois placed their city in a state of defense. james henry, the mayor, took an accurate census of the inhabitants. the serviceable part was divided into eight companies, exclusive of the colonel, the name given to the ninth, in which the mayor and aldermen, all anxious to share the perils of the other citizens, are enrolled. the respective captains elected over these bodies are: james david, louis gargouillaud, peter portier, john colin, charles chalemont, marie mari, mathurin the elder, and bonneaud. these are all made members of the council of the commune. the aldermen and other councilmen who command no company, are charged with inspecting the posts, and shall be on guard, day and night, in the ranks of the colonel. besides these, six other companies are formed of volunteer foot-soldiers, each a hundred and twenty men strong. the chiefs of these are: dessarts, montalembert, la riviere, de lys, bretin, called the norman, and virolet. all these captains, men well known for their bravery, took a glorious part in the last civil wars. the magistrates are engaged in increasing the food supply of the city, so long as the sea is still open to them. captain mirant, the father of cornelia, my betrothed, is charged with the command of a foraging flotilla. he is to go for wheat to the coast of brittany, and for ammunitions to england. the daring sailor will know how to elude the royalist corsairs, or to give them battle. cornelia is to accompany her father on the voyage, and will combat like a true gallic woman. we bade each other good-bye this morning. september , .--yesterday there arrived at la rochelle colonel plouernel, who is now head and heir of that powerful house by the death of count neroweg of plouernel and his son viscount odet, both killed at the battle of roche-la-belle in the encounter with my father and myself. the colonel left his wife and children with his father-in-law at the manor of mezlean, situated near the sacred stones of karnak--a fief which includes among its dependencies a house, a large garden and several fields that once belonged to our ancestor joel before the conquest of gaul by julius caesar. september , .--during the last few days a large number of fugitives who escaped the massacre of st. bartholomew arrived at la rochelle. there are to-day in our city fifty noblemen of the neighborhood, together with their families, besides sixty ministers of the reformed religion. over fifteen hundred soldiers, who deserted the royal army with arms and baggage, have come over to us. october , .--mayor james henry and the city council, who are charged with watching over the safety of the city, display marvelous activity. a military council has been established with colonel plouernel and my uncle the franc-taupin as members. my uncle is an expert in matters appertaining to siege work, and especially in mining and counter-mining. the military council is strengthening the fortifications, and throwing up fresh ones. new batteries have been set up at all the weak points that might invite an attack between the congues gate and the bastion of the evangelium. a redoubt is being raised on notre dame church, and upon one of its remaining towers two large cannons, capable of sweeping the surrounding fields far and wide, are being raised and mounted. other engines of bombardment are mounted upon the platforms of all the belfries that are strong enough to support the weight and shock of artillery. the towers of aix, of st. catherine, of verdiere and of crique are all armed in this way. noticing that certain portions of the moat between the congues gate and the evangelium bastion are poorly flanked, the franc-taupin proposed the construction of what he calls _taupinieres_, that is, casemates, the protected embrasures of which are on a level with the ground, and can open an almost subterranean, and therefore destructive fire upon the enemy. the casemates are being constructed. men, women and children labor at the fortifications with inexpressible enthusiasm. november , .--a heroic decision was taken yesterday. it recalls the decision that our ancestors albinik the sailor and his wife meroë saw put into execution when the bretons, to the end of famishing the army of julius caesar, reduced to ashes their rich and fertile fields, turning the same into a desert that extended from nantes to vannes![ ] yesterday, by order of the mayor of la rochelle, all the houses of the suburb of st. eloi, and of the quarters of salines, volliers and patere, were torn down or burned by their owners. no place is to be left to the enemy under shelter of which they can approach the city, and render the investment more dangerous to us. november , .--monsieur biron has received considerable reinforcements and advance supplies of siege material with which to invest our city. he set up his camp before the city with headquarters at st. andré. colonel strozzi, one of the ablest officers of the catholic army, occupies puy-liboreau; colonel st. martin occupies gord with twelve hundred men under him; colonel goas is encamped at rompsai with six companies of artillery; and monsieur du guast, a minion of the duke of anjou, the brother of king charles ix, is at aytre with two regiments of veterans. we prepared for these dispositions of the enemy. the inhabitants of aytre left only ruins for du guast to house in. december , .--the enemy's army is steadily receiving reinforcements, and extending its lines. the land blockade is tightening. every day there are bloody skirmishes between us and the royalists. they lose heavily at this game. relying upon their numbers, they venture far into the network of our defenses. these are cut up by moats and protected by walls, where, amid the labyrinth of hardly distinguishable paths across the salt marshes, we find many available places to hide in ambush, and our arquebusiers easily decimate the catholics. when, surprised, they seek to pursue us, they are swallowed up in the depths of the turf-pits the surface of which is covered by a greenish weed that they have not learned to distinguish from the grass of the prairie. it has so far been a war of ambuscades, similar to the patriotic resistance that the armoricans offered on their moors, their marshes and their forests, against the soldiers of the son of charlemagne, in the days of our ancestor vortigern.[ ] december , .--yesterday was fought a stubborn encounter at the font suburb where, led from rich springs, there pours into a reservoir the water that an aqueduct takes into the city. the catholics took possession of the place for the purpose of turning off the water and depriving la rochelle of it. they succeeded. my uncle, the franc-taupin, and his friend barbot, the boilermaker of the isle of rhe, proposed to enter the aqueduct, which had been allowed to run dry, and in that way to arrive under the camp of the enemy's troops at font, and then blow them up with a mine. unfortunately their proposition was not favored. an open attack was preferred. it cost us many men, and font remained in the hands of the catholics. the canals have been cut. but the village fountains and wells furnish us with enough water. january , .--in order still more to tighten the land blockade, the enemy has erected two forts at the entrance of the bay, on the roadstead in front of the inside port, thereby compelling our vessels to run the gauntlet of those batteries in order to reach the city. january , .--our friend master barbot, the boilermaker, achieved day before yesterday a deed, unmatched, i think, in the annals of military exploits. not far from the counterscarp of the evangelium bastion, stands a mill which we call brande, and where captain normand placed a small advanced day guard. at night they returned to the city, leaving at the mill their arms and only one sentinel. evening before last, colonel strozzi, profiting by the moonlight, marched at the head of a strong detachment, supported by two light pieces of artillery, to the attack of the mill, where master barbot was alone on guard. barbot decided to remain firmly at his post, which he did, discharging one after the other upon the assailants the arquebuses which were left loaded on the gunrack of the post. our friend made simultaneously a great noise, counterfeiting a variety of voices, with the view of causing the enemy to believe that the mill was strongly defended. on hearing the rattle of the arquebus shots, captain normand ran to the parapet of the bastion, and shouted to master barbot to hold out and that reinforcements were hurrying to his support! the road was circuitous and therefore rather long. as a consequence, before our men could reach the bastion of the mill, which lay on the other side of the moat, and despite all his intrepidity, master barbot found himself on the point of yielding. his ammunition had run out. he parleyed, and demanded quarter for himself and his pretended garrison. colonel strozzi granted quarter to our friend, who, stepping out, revealed the fact that his garrison consisted of himself alone. furious at the discovery, strozzi was about to hang master barbot, when captain normand's men arrived at the double quick, routed the royalists and snatched our intrepid boilermaker from their clutches. january , .--god be blessed! my mother, my sister theresa rennepont, cornelia, my betrothed, and several other brave rochelois women had a narrow escape last night. the brigantines of captain mirant, charged with the duty of provisioning la rochelle with munitions of war and grain, frequently set sail for the shores of brittany or for dover, and re-entered our port with their cargoes of supplies. to the end of blocking these excursions, or rendering them too perilous to be frequently attempted, the royalists brought from the port of brouage the hull of a large dismantled vessel. they filled the same with sand, and sank it at the entrance of the bay that leads to our port. the water in that spot being shallow, the sunken hull was thus turned into a species of half-submerged pontoon, and was mounted with a number of artillery pieces which, jointly with those on the redoubts raised by the enemy on the opposite sides of the bay, could cross their fires upon any of our ships that either left or entered the roadstead. yesterday the city council decided that during the night, at low tide, the vessel, left dry upon the sand banks by the outflowing sea, was to be set on fire. the audacious stroke--audacious because those who were commissioned to execute it had to leave the city by the two mills gate, and were forced to heap up the combustibles around the hull under the fire of the soldiers on guard--the audacious expedition did not otherwise require military skill. it only required stout hearts; it devolved upon the rochelois women, at their unanimous and pressing demand. "the blood and lives of the men, already numerically inferior to the besiegers, should," said they, "be preserved for battle." the brave women assembled, about three hundred strong, together with a goodly number of children of about twelve years who insisted upon accompanying their mothers. the troop consisted of bourgeois women, noble ladies, female servants, and wives of artisans, fishermen and merchants. among these, and foremost among them--i mention it proudly--were my mother, my sister theresa, and cornelia mirant, recently returned from one of her father's foraging expeditions to brittany. at about three in the morning they started from the city, carrying bundles of dry kindling wood and packages of hay. a strong wind was blowing. deep darkness favored their march under the guidance of a fisherman's wife who bore the nickname of the _bombarde_, by reason of her having extinguished one of the enemy's projectiles. due to her often dragging for oysters and clams, which abounded on our coasts, the bombarde was acquainted with the safe passages between the rocks and the quicksands that strewed the bay. she led the rochelois women through the darkness. the following is cornelia's own and thrilling account of the affair: "thanks to the darkness, the whistling wind, and our silent footsteps, we approached within an arquebus shot of the vessel's hull without being noticed by the royalists. your mother, marching among the front ranks between theresa and myself, and often, like ourselves, sinking up to her knees in water or mud, steadfastly refused to be relieved of the weight of the bundle of kindlings that she carried. we were a short distance from the vessel, the lights of which guided us from afar through the mist, when the soldier on watch took alarm, and called out: 'who goes there!' 'fire! fire' answered your mother. it was the signal agreed upon. we covered on a run the short distance that separated us from the hull, and rapidly heaped up along its flanks the kindling wood and straw that we brought with us. the soldier fired upon us at haphazard in the dark, and called his companions to arms. they hastened upon the bridge with the cannoniers, but unable to take aim upon us at so short a distance, and from above down, they left the cannons alone and sent us through the darkness a shower of arquebus shots that struck several of us. the bullets whistled. one of them carried off my bonnet. your mother, sister and myself were close together, but we could not see one another on account of the darkness. 'cornelia, are you wounded?' they asked. 'no! and you?' 'we neither!' answered your mother; and again she called out: 'firm, my daughters! fire!' thereupon she and the bombarde, who had just lighted a link dipped in sulphur set fire to the first bundles of wood and straw. their example was followed simultaneously at a score of different places, despite fresh arquebus discharges from the royalists. in a minute thick clouds of smoke enveloped the hull. the flaming combustibles cast their reflection upon the puddles of water on the sandbanks, and beyond them upon the two towers of the port. we could see as clearly as by day. the royalists, however, blinded with the smoke which the wind blew upon them, together with wide sheets of flame, could no longer see to fire upon us. thus protected, we threw three relays of combustibles upon the flames along the flanks of the accursed hull, which was so saturated with salt water and coated with ooze that, despite the heat, it could only be made to sweat by the flames. when our combustibles were exhausted, we were compelled, in order to effect a safe retreat, to profit by the last clouds of smoke that, concealing us from the enemy's eyes, prevented them from aiming upon us. we returned to the city carrying the dead bodies of five of our troop. among these was marie caron, the worthy wife of our neighbor the mercer. she was shot stone dead by a bullet in the left temple. her son, a lad of thirteen, had his arm broken. we also helped back a number of women and girls of our band who were more or less seriously wounded. there were fifteen of these. our only sorrow was to have failed in carrying our enterprise to a successful end."[ ] such, sons of joel, was the intrepidity and courage of the rochelois women during the siege of the city. do they not approve themselves worthy daughters of the gallic women of the old heroic times? february , .--the brother of charles ix, the duke of anjou, arrived yesterday at the royal camp to assume the supreme command of the army. he is accompanied by his two cousins, henry of bearn and condé. the two apostates, after seeing their co-religionists and best friends slaughtered under their very eyes on st. bartholomew's night, gave the kiss of peace and forgetfulness to charles ix, and now follow his army to the siege of la rochelle. these degenerate sons of joan of albert, and of condé have come to battle beside the butchers of their families. among the other seigneurs and captains in the suite of the duke of anjou are the duke of montpensier, the dauphin prince of auvergne, the dukes of guise and aumale, the dukes of longueville and bouillon, the marquis of mayenne, the duke of nevers, anthony and claude of bauffremont, rené of voyer, viscount of paulmy, the duke of uzes, the bastard of angouleme, marshal cossé, the count of retz, and many other illustrious seigneurs. among the most noted captains is old marshal montluc, a tiger with a human face. the presence of the experienced general, with whom age has not softened his proverbial ferocity, sufficiently announces that, if la rochelle should fall into the power of the enemy, we shall be put to the sword, to the very last one of us. february , .--the brave francis of lanoüe joined us at la rochelle, thanks to a curious agreement with charles ix. the revolt of the low countries, so ardently wished for by coligny, miscarried through the treachery of the french court, whose anxiety to please the pope and philip ii was so thoroughly attested by the massacres of st. bartholomew's night, that all expectation of seeing it give serious support to a republican insurrection in one of the provinces of the spanish monarchy had to be abandoned. lanoüe, deceived by the same hopes that deceived the admiral, whom the lying promises of catherine de medici and her son had kept in paris, went to mons in order to concert measures with the chiefs of the proposed uprising; made an unsuccessful effort to call the people to arms; was taken prisoner, and thus escaped st. bartholomew's night by the merest accident. every day more alarmed at the indomitable attitude of the huguenots, and aware of the influence lanoüe enjoyed among them, charles ix demanded his liberation at the hands of philip ii, obtained it, summoned the huguenot leader to the louvre, and said to him: "i place confidence in your word. go to la rochelle. induce the protestants to surrender and submit. should they refuse, i want you to promise me that you will return, and surrender yourself to me at discretion." "i consent," was lanoüe's answer; "i shall go to la rochelle. should it appear to me, in all conscience, that the resistance of the huguenots is hopeless, i shall do all in my power to induce them to capitulate. but should it appear to me that the chances are favorable to them, i shall induce them to persevere, shall tender them my services. if they decline my offer i shall return and surrender myself to you." such is the confidence that an upright man inspires even in hardened criminals, that charles ix accepted lanoüe's word. lanoüe sent ahead a courier to the mayor of la rochelle to inform him of his compact with the king and request admittance to the city. the city council assembled. some of the members severely condemned lanoüe for lowering himself to the point of dealing with charles ix; others, a considerable majority, realized the value of lanoüe's assistance, and favored the acceptance of his services. he was introduced into the city. his patriotic words brought all dissidents over to his side. he inspected the defensive works of the place, and being convinced that it could repel the royalist attack, was invested with the supreme command of the troops, under the surveillance of the aldermen. february , .--the presence of lanoüe among us already bears magnificent fruit. he introduces discipline among our troops. no longer are the murderous skirmishes tolerated in which so many of our men ran foolhardily to death. he curbs the ardor of the hotheads; drills the volunteers in the handling of their arms and in the precision of military evolutions, and he substitutes the tactics of prudence for the rashness of blind bravery and unthinking enthusiasm that have been the bane of the protestant arms. march , .--faithful to his word, lanoüe yesterday left la rochelle and returned to the camp of charles ix where he surrendered himself a prisoner. from the moment that he took command, our sallies caused great damage to the enemy, but also cost us dearly. we were not able to repair our losses, seeing that our communications by land are cut off, while the enemy is constantly receiving strong reinforcements. we now number only , men able to carry arms. the enemy, on the other hand, has to-day , men in line, and sixty cannon. the siege is conducted with consummate skill by scipio vergano, the identical engineer who fortified la rochelle. the traitor knows the strong and the weak points of the place. accordingly he has concentrated all the attacking forces of the catholics upon the bastion of the evangelium. their batteries keep up an incessant fire upon that side of our city. finally we begin to lack for munitions of war. the works raised by the enemy at the mouth of the bay render difficult the entrance of the ships upon which we depend for provisions. both powder and grain are running low. captain mirant's flotilla sailed to england for munitions of war, and to brittany for food. the vessels are daily expected. if unfavorable winds should delay their return, or if they fail to run the gauntlet of the enemy's outer harbor fortifications, a fearful dirth will soon set in. having considered the grave difficulties of our situation, lanoüe was of the opinion that we could not long resist the pressure of forces five or six times stronger than our own. he endeavored to induce the city council to parliamentarize with the duke of anjou, with the end in view of obtaining an honorable capitulation and favorable terms of peace, adding that he, lanoüe had pledged his word as a man to encourage and aid the rochelois to resistance so long as he believed resistance to be effective; but that, so soon as he considered resistance futile, he would urge the besieged to capitulate, promising, should his advice not be accepted, to surrender himself a prisoner to the king. after a solemn session, under the presidency of mayor james henry, who, worn out and almost dying with fatigue and in consequence of his wounds, but steeled by his republican energy, administered his office, the city council declared by a large majority that the rochelois would resist the catholics to the death. lanoüe thereupon left the city. oh, sons of joel! fail not to admire the resolute posture of the mayor, aldermen and heads of the civic military forces of la rochelle! those generous citizens did not take up arms out of ambition, or cupidity, as was the case with the majority of the captains in the army of charles ix--faithless mercenaries; swordsmen, who sell their skins and kill as a trade by which to live; fighters by profession; men to whom war, for whatever cause, whether just or otherwise, holy or unhallowed, is a lucrative pursuit. no; the rochelois fought in defense of their freedom, their rights, their hearths. only the consciousness that the struggle is in behalf of the most sacred of causes can beget prodigies of heroism. all honor to those brave men! shame and execration upon professional men of war. * * * * * the above fragments on the siege of la rochelle, written by me, antonicq lebrenn, take us down to the middle of the month of may, , when the following events occurred. chapter x. the lambkins' dance. the city hall of la rochelle, an edifice that was almost wholly re-built nearly a century ago, in the year , is one of the most beautiful monuments that patriotism and the love for one's city can boast. catholic faith has raised up as high as the clouds the spired cathedrals where the priests, oh, christ! exalt the assassination of the huguenots, and preach the extermination of heretics. the cult of the communal franchises has reared city halls, the cradles of our liberties, the civic sanctuaries, where, upon the banner of the commune, oath is taken to die for freedom--as did the communiers, at whose side our ancestor fergan the quarryman fought in the days of louis the lusty.[ ] the municipal monument that we, rochelois, are so justly proud of, consists of a vast central building, flanked by two pavilions with pointed roofs. its principal facade--ornamented with twenty-seven lofty arches, the triple entablature of which disappears under garlands of leaves and fruits chiseled in the stone--is surmounted by a crenelated terrace festooned with thick wreaths of acanthus leaves. from the top of each of the two pavilions a belfry of marvelous architectural beauty pierces the air. the one to the left presents to the wondering eye the sight of a gilt iron cage, that is no less admirably constructed than its dome, carved on the outside as delicately as a piece of lace-work, and held up by three stone figures of colossal stature. one must renounce the task of describing the profusion of crockets that jut out from the walls, and represent sphinxes and chimeras executed with boldness and grace. one must renounce the task of describing the stone festoons that embellish the edifice from its base to its pinnacles, or the infinite wreaths of fruit or flowers that clamber up the ogive moldings, doors and windows, that weave their lintels together, wind themselves around the pillars and columns, and finally crown the capitals. the aspect is that of a mass of verdure--flowers and leaves in bud and full bloom--suddenly petrified by some magic power. this imperfect description can only impart a partial idea of the material beauty of the city hall of la rochelle. but the edifice had, if the word may be used, a soul, a breath, a voice! it was the daring soul, the powerful breath, the patriotic voice of the commune that seemed to animate the mass of stone of which the antique edifice was built. there, especially since the war, and as life centers in the heart, centered the pulsations of the city. all energy started there and rushed back thither. it was there that the sovereign power of the urban republic, represented by the mayor and aldermen whom the citizens elected, had its seat.[ ] assembled night and day at the city hall in sufficient number to meet all emergencies, the valiant ediles never left the hall of the council but to mount the ramparts, or join in sallies against the enemy's redoubts. not infrequently theirs was also the task of calming, controlling or even suppressing popular tumults, engendered by the sufferings of these days. such was the complex and arduous task reserved for morrisson, the successor of james henry, who died in consequence of his wounds and overexertion. glorify the commune, sons of joel, and its heroic defenders. well, on that day, towards the middle of may, , a tumultuous mob, made up exclusively of women and children--the able-bodied men were on the ramparts, or taking a few hours' rest--invaded the square of the city hall of la rochelle, crying with the heartrending fury that hunger inspires: "bread!" "bread!" no less haggard, no less pinched with hunger than their children, a considerable number of these women, having combatted beside the men of la rochelle in repelling the royalist attacks, had heads bandaged in blood-stained handkerchiefs, or carried their arms in slings. several children, of ten or twelve years of age, also bore the marks of wounds received in battle whither they accompanied their mothers. the mob, embittered and exhausted by the trials and all manner of privations that resulted from the long siege, saw with terror the approach of famine. since the day before the baker shops had been closed for want of flour. the supply of food was nearly exhausted. the wretched crowd clamored aloud for bread; they also clamored for morrisson, the new mayor, and head of the commune. morrisson appeared at the portico of the city hall and stepped towards the mob. he was at once beloved, feared and respected. still at the age of vigorous manhood, he wore an iron corselet and arm-pieces, while a heavy sword hung from his side. he jumped upon one of the stone balustrades placed at either side of the door, motioned for silence, and addressed the crowd in a sonorous, firm and yet paternal voice: "my children! the council is in session. i have no time to lose in speechmaking. delegate to me one from among you. let her inform me what it is that you want. i shall answer." the bombarde, acclaimed with one voice as the delegate of her companions, pushed her way forward and approached the mayor: "mayor, we are hungry, and want bread! the bakers have neither corn nor flour. the butchers' stalls are closed. two days ago only a few handfuls of beans and peas were distributed. since then nothing more has come. before the siege most of us lived off our fisheries, and we asked help from nobody. to-day every fisherman's boat that ventures out of port is sunk under the cannon balls of the royalist redoubts. what are we to do? we cannot remain without food; we are hungry; we want bread for our children and ourselves!" "yes!" echoed the rochelois women with loud cries. "bread! bread! morrisson, we must have bread!" after this explosion of outcries and complaints, silence was restored, and the mayor resumed in a moved voice: "poor dear women! you want bread, and how do you expect me to give you any? there is not a single grain of wheat in the city granary. but we are hourly expecting captain mirant's brigantines. they bring from england a cargo of powder, and from brittany a cargo of wheat. they are anchored only eight leagues from here, near the coast, at the port of redon. they cannot, in the absence of a favorable wind, run into la rochelle. the chances are a hundred to one that the adverse wind, which has been blowing all these days, will change. it may change almost at any moment. it may be changing now. if it does, the city will again be supplied for several months. for the present, there is left to us a precious resource, so far neglected--the clams and oysters. we must turn our hands to that. you understand me?" "mayor! do you know that it is now as dangerous to go out for clams as to march upon a battery?" answered the bombarde. "to go out for clams is to run into the jaws of death!" "i know it--and if the brigantines of captain mirant do not run into port to-day, my wife and two daughters will go out with you to-night, at one in the morning, when the tide will be low, and dig for clams," was morrisson's stoic reply. "it will be done! count upon us, mayor!" replied the bombarde. "if the brigantines of captain mirant do not arrive before night, we shall put up with hunger until night--and then we shall go out and dig for clams. those of us who will be killed on the banks will no longer need anything. that is agreed upon, in god's name!" as the bombarde was uttering these last words, the detonations of several discharges of artillery that shattered the window panes in the city hall announced the enemy was about to renew the cannonade which it had suspended in the morning. almost at the same instant the sonorous sound of clarion blasts was heard drawing nearer and nearer, and presently a large number of women of all conditions, marching at the heels of a pastor on a white horse, ahead of which marched the clarion-blower, turned into caille square. "to the ramparts, my sisters! to the ramparts!" shouted the pastor with martial exaltation. "the lord of hosts will steel your arms! your husbands, your fathers, your brothers and your sons are battling for the triumph of liberty. come to their help! to the ramparts! to the ramparts! the enemy is about to storm the bastion of the evangelium! long live the commune!" "to the ramparts, my brave women! and to-night, after clams on the banks, as perilous an expedition as battle itself!" cried morrisson, while the bombarde and her companions, joining the other crowd of rochelois women, repeated in chorus the following psalm, led by the pastor: "o, lord do guide these feeble women, with souls ablaze, inflamed as strong men! break our foes like oreb! break them like proud zeeb! throw down those wicked kings and princes, who in their fury, and their ire, laugh at our tears and distress dire, who devastate our glad provinces! who are as a torrent wildly boiling, a tempest, wildly rushing, rolling, a hurricane, impetuous driven, the tops of haughty mountains lashes, a hellish flame that turns to ashes, the rooks by lightning struck and riven! "may, oh, lord! the storm of thy wrath strew thy foes away from our path! may, oh, lord! thy thunders and fire, smite thy foes! oh, smite with thy ire!" the bastion of the evangelium, upon which the enemy had long been concentrating all their forces, formed a sharply protruding angle. its flanks were not sufficiently protected by other works of defense. accordingly, by directing against the left flank of the bastion the fire of their principal batteries, the enemy had opened a breach in the rampart by the repeated pounding of their shots. at the place where the breach was effected, the upper part of the earthworks, to a width of about fifty feet, crumbled down into the moat, filling it up so fully as to render an assault practicable. thanks to this mass of debris which answered the purpose of a bridge, the assailants could cross the fosse on a run, could scale the last steps of the last wall already laid in ruins, and could enter the city, provided they could bear down the defenders who stood in the breach. from the top of the bastion the eye swept the plain far and wide. a cannon-shot off, the long line of the enemy's trenches could be seen, stretching from the suburb of st. eloi on the edge of the salt marshes, to the suburb of colombier. that line bounded the field from end to end; it intercepted the roads to limoges and nantes at the crossings of which the batteries were erected which broke a breach through the bastion. the whole stretch between the trenches of the besiegers and the fortifications of the city--one time covered with trees and houses--now lay bare, exposed, devastated, and deeply furrowed by the projectiles. beyond the desert waste, lay the enemy's entrenchments--earthworks strengthened with gabions and trunks of trees, and here and there crenelated with the embrasures for their batteries. behind that line of earthworks, the tops of the officers' tents, surmounted with bannerets and floating pennants, could be seen. finally, on the extreme horizon rose the undulating and woody hills. the breach once made, the catholics suspended their fire in order to open it again shortly before marching to the assault. it was in answer to the thunder of the cannonade, which announced an imminent and decisive attack, that the old pastor crossed the square of the city hall at the head of his bevy of rochelois women, recruited the bombarde and her companions, and wended his course to the bastion of the evangelium. at that place about one-half of the defenders of la rochelle were gathered, ready for a stubborn conflict. the other troops, distributed in other places, were to be on the alert to repel other attacks. the council of defense foresaw that the enemy, while hurling one column against the breach, would undoubtedly attempt a simultaneous assault upon other places; consequently women were commissioned to close up the breach as best they might with logs of wood and other material. colonel plouernel, upon whom the defense of the bastion that day devolved, and captain gargouillaud, in charge of the artillery, gave their last orders. the bourgeois cannoniers were pointing their pieces in advance upon the open and absolutely exposed ground which the royalists had to cross when they sallied from their trenches in order to reach the opposite side of the fosse where the breach was effected. the breach was wide; nevertheless, before they could reach the parapet, the besiegers would have to clamber over a heap of debris ten or eleven feet high, on the top of which a redoubtable engine of defense was mounted, and placed in charge of the women of la rochelle. this engine of war, an invention of master barbot the boilermaker, received the name of the _censer_. it consisted of a huge copper basin, holding a ton, suspended from iron chains at the end of a long beam that revolved upon an axis, and was so adjusted to a post firmly set in the ground, that by means of a slight motion imparted to the beam, the huge caldron would empty upon the heads of the assailants the deadly fluid that it was filled with, to wit, a mixture of boiling tar, sulphur and oil. a number of rochelois women, theresa rennepont and cornelia my betrothed among them, were busy either keeping up the fire under the copper basin, or pouring into it the oil, tar and sulphur from little kegs that lay near at hand. with her sleeves rolled back above her elbows, and leaving her strong white arms exposed, cornelia stirred the steaming mixture with an iron rod supplied with a wooden handle. master barbot--his head covered with an iron morion, his chest protected with a brigandine, and his cutlass and dagger by his side--leaned upon the barrel of his arquebus and smiled complacently upon his invention. from time to time he would address the women and girls at work. "courage, my brave girl!" he said to cornelia. "mix up the oil well with the tar and sulphur. make the mixture thick, soft, and toothsome, like those omelettes made of eggs, flour and cheese that you are so skilled in dishing up, and which your good father and myself relish so much! but the devil take those dainty thoughts! in these days of dearth one may deem himself happy if he but have a handful of beans. by the way of famine and of your father--the heavy clouds that are rising yonder in the south almost always announce a change of wind. mayhap we shall see this very day the brigantines of captain mirant, loaded with wheat and powder, sailing before the wind into port, every inch of sail spread to the breeze, and successfully running the gauntlet of the royalist guns. long live the commune!" "may god hear you, master barbot! i would then embrace my father this very day, and the threatened famine would be at end," answered cornelia without interrupting her work of stirring the mixture, into which theresa rennepont just emptied a bucketful of sulphur--on account of which master barbot called out to her: "no more sulphur, my dear theresa. the tar and oil must predominate in the infernal broth. the sulphur is thrown in only to improve the taste by pleasing the eye with the pretty bluish flame, that gambols on the surface of the incandescent fluid. now, my little girls, turn the beam just a little to one side in order to remove the basin from the fire without cooling off the broth. we shall swing it back over the fire the instant the catholics run to the assault--then we shall dish up the broth to them, hot and nice." while these rochelois women were thus engaged in preparing the censer, others rolled enormous blocks of stone--the debris of the bastion that was shattered by the enemy's cannonade--and placed them in such positions over the breach that a child's finger could hurl them down upon the assaulting column. others rolled barrels of sand, which after having served for protection to the arquebusiers on the ramparts, were likewise to be rolled down the steep declivity which the enemy had to climb. finally, a large number of women were busy preparing stretchers for the wounded. these women worked under the direction of marcienne, odelin's widow. theresa and cornelia, left for a moment at leisure from their work on the censer, came over to the widow, and were presently joined by louis rennepont and antonicq. "mother," said antonicq, tenderly addressing marcienne, "when i left the house this morning at dawn you were asleep; i could not tell you good-bye--embrace me!" marcienne understood what her son meant. a murderous assault was about to be engaged. perhaps they were not to meet again alive. she took antonicq in her arms, and pressing him to her breast she said in a moved yet firm voice: "blessings upon you, my son, who never caused me any grief! if, like your father, you should die in battle against the papists, you will have acted like an upright man to the very end. should i succumb, you will carry with you my last blessing. and you also, cornelia," added marcienne, "i bless you, my child. i shall die happy in the knowledge that antonicq found in you a heart worthy of his own in virtue and bravery. you have been the best of daughters to your parents--you will likewise be a tender wife to your husband." odelin's widow was giving expression to these sentiments when louis rennepont, after exchanging in a low voice a few words with his wife theresa, words such as the solemnity of the occasion prompted, cried out aloud: "look yonder! there, under us--among the debris of the breach--is not that the franc-taupin? your uncle seems to be emerging from underground. he must be preparing some trick of his trade." "it is he, indeed!" exclaimed antonicq, no less surprised than his brother-in-law. "and there is my apprentice serpentin also--who is following the franc-taupin out of the hole." these words drew the attention of cornelia, theresa and odelin's widow. they looked down the steep slope formed by the ruins of that portion of the bastion that the enemy had demolished. the franc-taupin had emerged from a narrow and deep excavation, dug under the ruins. a lad of thirteen or fourteen years followed him. they covered up the opening that had given them egress. after doing so, serpentin, the apprentice of the armorer antonicq, went down upon his knees, and moving backward on all fours, uncoiled, under the directions of the franc-taupin, a long thin fuse, the other end of which was deep down the excavation which they had just covered. still moving towards the parapet, serpentin continued to uncoil the fuse, and, upon orders from the franc-taupin, stopped at about twenty paces from the wall and sat down on a stone. "halloa, uncle!" cried antonicq, leaning over the edge of one of the embrasures. "here we are; come and join us." hearing his nephew's voice, the franc-taupin raised his head, made him a sign to wait, and after giving serpentin some further directions, the aged soldier clambered over the ruins with remarkable agility for a man of his years, and walked over to where antonicq stood waiting for him. "where do you come from, uncle?" "well, my boy, what do you expect of me? a _taupin_ i was in my young days, and now in my old days i relapse into my old trade. i come from underground, through a shaft that i dug through the ruins with the aid of serpentin, about a hundred paces from here. there i laid a mine, right in the middle of the breach where the good catholics will soon be running to the assault. the moment i see them there i shall lovingly set the fuse on fire--and, triple petard! the st. bartholomew lambkins will leap up in the air yelling and spitting fire like five hundred devils, their heads down, their legs skyward. the dance will end with a shower of shattered limbs." "well schemed, my old mole!" said master barbot. "fire below, fire above, like the beautiful sheets that i hammer on the anvil. the burning lava of my censer will blaze over the skulls of the royalists, your fuse will blaze under the soles of their feet, and hurl the miscreants into the air capering, turning somersaults, whirling, cavorting, and--" but suddenly breaking off, master barbot let himself down upon the ground, and joining the word to the deed, called out: "down upon your faces, everybody! look out for the bullets!" master barbot's advice was quickly followed. everybody near him threw himself down flat at the very moment that a volley of bullets whistled overhead or struck the parapet, some ricocheting and upturning gabions and logs of wood, others plowing their way through the debris where the imperturbable serpentin was seated near the fuse that led down to the mine. despite the danger, the brave lad did not budge from his post. a lucky accident willed it that none of the besieged was wounded by this first salvo of artillery. master barbot, the first one to rise to his feet, cast his eyes upon the enemy's batteries, which were still partly wrapped in the clouds of smoke from the first discharge, perceived the first ranks of the assaulting column sallying from its trenches, and instantly gave the signal: "everyone to his post! the enemy is advancing!" "to arms! rochelois, to arms!" master barbot's call, was answered by a long roll of drums, ordered by colonel plouernel. his strong and penetrating voice rose above the din, and his words were heard: "soldiers, to the ramparts! cannoniers, to your pieces! fire, all along the line!" "may god guard you, mother, sister, cornelia!" said antonicq. "may god guard you, my wife!" said louis rennepont. "so long, comrade barbot!" cried the franc-taupin, pulling a tinder box from his pocket and sliding down the slope of the breach to rejoin serpentin. "i shall get myself ready to make the limbs of those st. bartholomew lambkins scamper through the air." "and you, my brave girls, to the censer!" cried master barbot to the rochelois women. "replace the caldron over the fire, and, when you hear me give the order: 'serve it hot!' turn it and empty it over the heads of the assailants. you others, hold your levers ready near those stones and hogsheads of sand. when you hear me say: 'roll!' push hard and let it all come down upon them." suddenly, fresh but more distant and redoubling detonations of artillery in the direction of the congues gate announced the enemy's intention of making a diversion by attempting two simultaneous attacks upon the city. the pastor arrived at that moment upon the ramparts at the head of his troop of women whom the bombarde and her companions had joined. some reinforced the women charged with rolling the stones upon the assailants; others organized themselves to transport the wounded; finally a third set, armed with cutlasses, pikes and axes, made ready to resist the assailants at close quarters. at the head of these the bombarde brandished a harpoon. his best marksmen had been placed by colonel plouernel in the underground casemates, thereby forming, on the other side of the circumvallation, a second line of defense, the loop-holes of which, bearing a strong resemblance to the airholes of a cavern, allowed a murderous fire to be directed upon the enemy. finally, the companies of arquebusiers were massed upon the breach, which was defended by heaped-up beams and gabions that the rochelois women assisted in bringing together. a solemn silence reigned among the besieged during the short interval of time that the royalists occupied in rushing through the distance that separated them from the outer edge of our moat. all of us felt that the fate of la rochelle depended upon the issue of the assault. old marshal montluc was in chief command of the catholics. monsieur du guast, at the head of six battalions of veteran swiss troops, led the column, with marshal montluc in the center, and in the rear colonel strozzi, one of the best officers of the catholic army. his task was to reinforce and sustain the attack in case the first companies wavered, or were repulsed. these troops advanced in good order, drums beating, trumpets blaring, colors flying, and captained by the flower of the nobility--the dukes of guise and aumale, the bastard of angouleme, henry of bearn, who was now the king's brother-in-law, and henry of condé. the two renegates now were in arms against our cause. finally, there were also mayenne, biron, cosseins, d'o, chateau-vieux, and innumerable other noble captains, all crowding near the king's brother, the duke of anjou, who marched in the center at the side of marshal montluc. the moment that the front ranks of the vanguard reached the thither side of the fosse, alderman gargouillaud considered the enemy to be within reach of his cannoniers, and gave the order for a plunging and ricocheting fire. the effect of the salvo was deadly. the thunder-struck vanguard wavered and recoiled. the rochelois gained time to reload their pieces. a second discharge, fully as deadly as the first, mowed down as many as before, and increased the indecision of the assailants. old marshal montluc, biron and cosseins revived the shaken courage of their troops, held them, and forced them back. the dash was made. leaving the dead and wounded behind, the column crossed the moat; it answered with its arquebuses those of the besieged as it pushed up the slope of the breach, receiving the cross fire from the casemates upon both its flanks, while, from the companies ranged upon the ramparts, its front was met with a hailstorm of bullets. despite severe losses, the royalists steadily climbed up the slope of the breach. the franc-taupin and his aide, who until that instant lay flat upon their faces behind a heap of debris, suddenly rose and ran towards the circumvallation as fast as their legs could carry them. they had fired the fuse. hardly were they at a safe distance, when the mine took fire under the feet of the enemy. a frightful explosion threw up a spout of earth, dust and rocks, interspersed with jets of fire, fulgent like lightning through thick clouds of smoke. the smoke slowly dissipated. the slope of the breach reappeared to view. it was torn up and cut through by a deep and wide cleft, the sides of which were strewn with the dismembered bodies of the dead and dying. the soldiers of the vanguard who escaped the disaster were seized with terror, turned upon their heels, rushed back upon their center, trampled it down, threw it into a panic, and spread consternation, crying that the passage of the breach was mined under the feet of the besiegers. the ranks were broken; confusion reigned, the rout commenced. the rochelois cannoniers now worked their pieces in quick succession, and plowed wide gaps into the compact mass of the fleeing invaders, while the franc-taupin, standing beside one of the embrasures and calmly crossing his hands behind his back, remarked to master barbot: "well, comrade, there they are--heads, arms, trunks, legs. they have danced the saraband to the tune of my mine. i have given a ball to the catholics, to the defenders of the throne and the altar!" "ha! ha!" replied the boilermaker. "the st. bartholomew lambkins are going back faster than they came. should they come back again i shall dish up to them my steaming basin in order to comfort the lacerated feelings of those cut-throats whom the pope has blessed." the royalist soldiers could not be rallied by their officers until they were beyond the reach of our guns. they were then re-formed into a new column. the most daring of their captains placed themselves resolutely at their head in order to lead them back to the assault. preceding this phalanx of intrepid men by several paces, a cordelier monk, holding a crucifix in one hand and a cutlass in the other, rushed forward to be the first to storm the breach, shouting in a piercing voice the ominous slogan of st. bartholomew's night: "god and the king!" the monk's example and the enthusiasm of the captains carried the assailants away. they forgot their recent panic, and turned about face to renew the struggle, shouting in chorus "god and the king!" in vain did the fire of the besieged make havoc among them. they closed ranks; they rushed forward at the double quick; they ran up the slope of the breach; they even passed beyond the chasm produced by the late mine explosion. at that moment master barbot called out to the rochelois women in charge of the censer: "quick! quick! my daughters! pour it down hot upon the catholic vermin! anoint the devout papists with our holy and consecrated oil!" and immediately turning to the other set of women charged with rolling stones down upon the enemy's heads, "to work, my brave women!" shouted the boilermaker. "crush the infamous pack to dust! exterminate the brood of satan!" instantly a flood of incandescent oil, bitumen and sulphur poured down like a wide sheet of flame upon the front ranks of the besiegers. they recoiled, trampled down the ranks behind them, and emitted hideous cries of anguish. every drop of the molten liquid bored a hole through the flesh to the bone. at the same moment enormous blocks of stone and masses of sand rolled, rapid and irresistible, down the slope of the breach, overthrowing, breaking, crushing, smashing whatever stood in their way. joined to this murderous defense was the frightfully effective fire of our arquebusiers, who shot unerringly, at close range, themselves safe, upon a foe in disorder. and yet, however decimated and broken, the royalists stuck to the assault until they finally reached the circumvallation. the exchange of arquebus shots then ceased and a furious hand-to-hand struggle ensued with swords, cutlasses and pikes. no quarter was given. the conflict was pitiless. the rochelois women, among them cornelia, armed with the iron rod of the censer, and the bombarde, brandishing her harpoon, vied with the men in deeds of daring. these rochelois women were everywhere among the male combatants, and cut a wide swath with their weapons, wielded by their white yet nervy arms, after the fashion of the gallic women who made a front to the legions of caesar. twice did colonel plouernel, captain normand, alderman gargouillaud, master barbot, antonicq lebrenn, louis rennepont and their fellow defenders drive the catholics back beyond the breach; twice did the catholics, superior in numbers, drive the rochelois back to the terrace of the rampart. thus did the battle fluctuate, when mayor morrisson came to the aid of the protestants with a fresh troop of citizens. the timely reinforcement changed the face of the struggle. for a third time rolled back beyond the breach, the assailants were precipitated into the pits or whipped down the slope. their rout then became complete, wild, disordered. our arquebusiers, whose fire had stopped during the hand-to-hand conflict, now took aim again, and decimated the fleeing, while our artillery mowed them down. this time the royalist rout was complete--final. those of them who escaped the carnage, made haste to place themselves behind the shelter of their own lines. victory to the rochelois! oh, sons of joel, victory! long live the commune! chapter xi. capture of cornelia. the victory of the rochelois was a bloody one, and dearly did we pay for it. we numbered over eleven hundred of our people killed or disabled, men and women. cornelia mirant received a wound upon the neck; the bombarde perished in the breach. marcienne, odelin's widow, was struck by a bullet and killed near the rampart as she was bringing aid to a wounded soldier; antonicq's arm was run through by a pike; colonel plouernel was carried to his house in a nearly dying condition with two arquebus shots in his chest. louis rennepont, his wife theresa, master barbot, the franc-taupin and serpentin, his assistant in mining, came safe and sound out of the engagement. the rochelois gathered in the dead and wounded. the lebrenn family carried to their house the corpse of odelin's widow. a sad funeral march! but, alas, in these distressful times the exigencies of the public weal have precedence over the holiest of sorrows. one enjoys leisure to weep over his dead only after having avenged them. the triumph of a day does not remove the apprehensions for the morrow. the royalist assault, so valiantly repelled by the people of la rochelle, might be renewed the very next day, due to the large reserve forces of the catholic army, only a small portion of which took part in the attack upon the bastion of the evangelium. the city council urged all the remaining able-bodied citizens to proceed without delay to repair the breach, seeing that the moon, then at her full, would light them at their work during the whole night. fresh defenses were to be immediately raised upon the side of the assaulted bastion. then, also, famine was staring the city in the face. precautions were needed against that emergency. captain mirant's ships, which were to revictual the city and replenish its magazines of war, still failed to be descried at sea, notwithstanding a strong wind rose from the southwest towards sunset. the last bags of beans were distributed among the combatants, whose exhaustion demanded immediate attention after the day's conflict. the supply barely sufficed to allay the pangs of hunger. consequently, in order to insure food for the next day, the women and children were summoned by the aldermen to be at the two mills gate by one o'clock in the morning, the hour of low tide, and favorable for the digging of clams. the gathering of these mollusks offered a precious resource to the besieged, but it was as perilous as battle itself. the bayhead redoubt, raised by the royalists at the extremity of the tongue of land that ran deep into the offing, could sweep with its cannon the beach on which the clams were to be dug. towards one in the morning the city hall bell rang the summons. upon hearing the agreed-upon signal, the rochelois women of all conditions issued forth with those of their children who were considered strong enough to join the expedition. each was equipped with a basket. they met at the two mills gate where they found the wife and two daughters of morrisson the mayor. they set the example of public spirit. accordingly, while the male population of la rochelle was busily engaged in repairing the breach, the women and children sallied forth from the city in search of provisions for all. although smarting from her wound, and despite the protests of antonicq, cornelia mirant determined to share with theresa rennepont the risks of the nocturnal expedition after clams. she joined the troop of women and children. about four or five hundred rochelois women issued forth from the two mills gate, situated near the lantern tower, in search of clams to feed the population. they were soon upon the beach. bounded on the right by a ledge of rocks, the beach extended to the left as far as the roadstead in front of the inner port of la rochelle, a roadstead narrowed towards its entrance by two tongues of land, each of which was armed with a hostile redoubt. the bayhead redoubt could at once cover with its fire the narrow entrance of the bay, and sweep the full length and breadth of the beach upon which the rochelois women now scattered and were actively engaged in picking up at the foot of the rocks, aided by the light of the moon, the mollusks that they came in search of. at the start the bayhead redoubt gave them no trouble, although the enemy's attention must undoubtedly have been attracted by the large number of white head-covers and scarlet skirts, the time-honored costume of the rochelois women. already the baskets were handsomely filling with clams--the "celestial manna" as mayor morrisson called them--when suddenly a bright flash of light threw its reflection upon the small puddles of water on the beach, a detonation was heard, and a light cloud of smoke rose above the redoubt. a shiver ran over the clam-digging rochelois women, and profound silence took the place of their previous chatter. "the royalists have seen us!" said theresa rennepont to cornelia. "they have begun firing upon us." "no!" cried cornelia with mixed joy and alarm as she looked in the direction of the battery. "the enemy is firing upon my father's brigantines! there they are! there they are, at last! god be praised! if they enter port, la rochelle is saved from famine! do you see them, theresa? do you see, yonder, their white sails glistening in the moonlight? the ships are drawing near. they come laden with victory to us!" and the young maid, moved with a joy that overcame her alarm, raised her beautiful face to heaven, and in a voice quivering with enthusiasm exclaimed: "oh, lord! guard my father's life! grant victory to the sacred cause of freedom!" all thought of the clams was instantly dropped. the women pressed close to the water's edge; with eyes fixed upon the ships, they awaited anxiously the issue of the combat upon which depended the victualing of their city. it was a solemn moment; an imposing spectacle. the further extremities of the two tongues of land that enclosed the outer bay and left but a narrow entrance to the port, threw their black profiles upon the waves, silvered by the moon. the four brigantines were sailing in single file before the wind with a full spread of canvas, towards the dangerous passage which they had to enter under the cross fire of the enemy's redoubts. a rapid and frightful cannonade followed upon the first shot which had startled the women. already the first one of the four vessels had entered the passage, when, despite the firmness of her nature, cornelia emitted a cry of distress and said in consternation to theresa: "look, the mast of the forward brigantine is down! it must have been struck by a ball! good god, my father is lost if he should be on that vessel--dismantled--unable to move--exposed to the fire of the enemy!" "all is lost! alas, all is lost!" "the brigantines are returning to the open sea!" "captain mirant flees without giving battle! without answering the enemy's fire! without giving back a single shot!" "come, let us return to our clams--henceforth the only resource of la rochelle! let us continue picking up clams!" "no! my father is not fleeing from battle," answered cornelia. "by sailing back he means to tow the dismantled ship out of harm's way. no, captain mirant is not fleeing from battle! do you not see that his vessels are now lying to? they are not sailing away!" the words of cornelia, who was long familiar with nautical manoeuvres, thanks to the many voyages she made on board her father's vessels, revived the hopes of the rochelois women. their eyes returned with renewed anxiety to the entrance of the port. but, alas, as they did so, none perceived that soldiers of the royal army were coming out of the bayhead redoubt, and, screened by the shadows cast by the rocks that were strewn to the right of the beach, were silently creeping nearer behind the massive blocks. "what did i tell you?" cornelia proceeded to explain. "the brigantines are sailing back again into the passage. the forward one, with the dismantled vessel in tow, is opening fire upon the royalist redoubt. no! captain mirant's cannons have not lost their speech!" and so it was. the brigantine that had the dismantled vessel in tow sailed intrepidly into the passage, returning the enemy's fire from both broadsides. the enemy's redoubts, especially the bayhead, being the better equipped, replied to the brigantine. suddenly, however, a cry of terror escaped from all breasts. the brigantine that led was enveloped in a thick smoke which here and there was reddened by the ruddy glow of flames. the agony of the women of la rochelle redoubled. their attention, held captive by the spectacle in the bay, prevented their noticing the catholic soldiers, who, in increasing numbers, were approaching, hidden behind the last rocks of the ledge. suddenly the echoes around the rocks repeated, like the reverberations of thunder, the roar of a tremendous explosion. the dismantled vessel, which carried a full load of powder, was blown into the air after being set on fire, not by the enemy, but by captain mirant himself; and, as it blew up, it partly dismantled the bayhead redoubt. the manoeuvre was successful. not only was the redoubt crippled, but a large number of the soldiers and cannoniers who manned it perished under the ruins of their own batteries. so soon as the intrepid mariner saw one of his vessels disabled from proceeding on its voyage, he had taken her in tow; veered about with the end in view of withdrawing his flotilla from the enemy's fire long enough to enable him to perfect his newly conceived strategy; heaped inflammable materials upon the disabled ship; left the powder in her hold; transferred the sailors to his own bottom; veered again; sailed under full canvas before the wind straight into the passage; and leading in tow the floating incendiary machine which he had just improvised, set it on fire, and cut the cable just before arriving in front of the redoubt, convinced, by his intimate acquaintance with the currents along the coast, that they would drive ashore and against the redoubt the floating firebrand loaded with powder, which, when exploding, would shake the royalist battery to pieces. it happened as captain mirant calculated. once the redoubt was in ruins, captain mirant had nothing to fear except from the inferior battery raised on the opposite tongue of land. the bold mariner now proceeded on his course followed by his remaining vessels, deliberately answering the inoffensive shots from the opposite side. finally, with only the perforation of some of their sails, and a few bullets lodged in their sides, the three vessels steered straight towards the entrance of the interior port of la rochelle, which they were to save from famine, and re-supply with munitions of war. "god be praised! the city is saved! may my father have come off safe and sound from the combat!" cried cornelia, while the other rochelois women loudly acclaimed with shouts of joy and hope the brilliant triumph of the captain. the last of the three brigantines had just entered the port when the rattle of arquebus shots resounded from behind the rocks which bordered the beach to the right of where the rochelois women were assembled. it rained bullets. women and children, mortally wounded, dropped dead around theresa and cornelia. the unexpected attack of the royalist soldiers in ambush threw the unfortunate women into a panic. they had come wholly unarmed, bent upon gathering clams along the beach, and not looking for danger except from the batteries of bayhead. it happened that a part of that garrison consisted of troops of the guard of the duke of anjou, under the command of the marquis of montbar, one of the prince's favorites, and the most noted debauchee of the whole royalist army. so soon as he perceived the rochelois women spread along the beach, the marquis set his soldiers in motion, ordered them to slide out of the redoubt, and to creep noiselessly, under cover of the rocks and of the shadows that they projected, with the object in view of massacring a large number of the heroic women, whose intrepidity the royalists had more than once tasted to their sorrow, and of seizing several of them for the orgies of the duke of anjou's tent. accordingly, after unmasking his ambuscade by the first round of arquebus shots, the marquis of montbar rushed with his soldiers upon the startled and panic-stricken women, crying: "kill all the old ones! take the handsomest and youngest prisoners! god's blood! you can easily distinguish the pretty girls from the old and ugly! the moon is bright!" the scene that followed was frightful to behold. many of the "old" ones were ruthlessly butchered, as ordered by the catholic captain. others, having escaped the fire of the arquebuses and the ensuing carnage, finding themselves unarmed, and unable to resist the soldiers, sought safety in flight in the direction of the two mills gate. still others stood their ground and defended themselves with the energy of despair against the guards who sought to seize them. among the latter was cornelia, who, in the turmoil, was separated from theresa rennepont as both sought to reach the city. the marquis of montbar, happening to be near where cornelia was struggling in the hands of several soldiers, and struck by the beauty of the girl, called out to his men: "take care you do not hurt her--keep her alive! god's blood, she is a royal morsel! i reserve her for monseigneur the duke of anjou." cornelia, whose wound was re-opened in her struggle with the soldiers, felt herself losing strength and consciousness through loss of blood. she fell in a faint at the feet of montbar. by his orders two of his guards raised her by her feet and shoulders, and carried her away like a corpse. several other rochelois women, who were likewise carried off captive to the bayhead redoubt, now lying in ruins through captain mirant's manoeuvre, were that night victims of the brutality of both captains and soldiers. finally many others succeeded in reaching the two mills gate at the moment that a company of protestants, attracted by the sound of arquebus shots, sallied from the city and were hastening to the beach. alas, it was too late! already the inrushing tide was submerging the dead and the dying victims of the royalist ambush. already the water reached the foot of the rocks and intercepted the progress of the rochelois. they could not pursue the enemy who, among other prisoners, carried away the inanimate body of captain mirant's daughter at the very hour that the daring mariner weighed anchor in the port of la rochelle amidst the acclamations of the inhabitants. chapter xii. the duke of anjou. the headquarters of the royal army were at the suburb of font, now in ruins. the duke of anjou, brother of king charles ix, occupied at font, in the center of the royal encampment, a house that went by the name of the "reservoir," since within its yard lay the reservoir into which the waters were gathered that the now destroyed aqueduct conducted into la rochelle. the prince's headquarters, although wrecked by the war, were repaired, and made fit for the royal guest, thanks to the industry of his valets, who upholstered and equipped the ruins with a mass of tapestries and furniture which the pack-mules carried in the wake of the army. the prince's oratory, where, either in sacrilegious derision, or perhaps yielding to a mixture of fanaticism and lewdness, he both performed his orisons and indulged his debaucheries, was tapestried in violet velvet, garlanded with fringes that were gathered up by gold and silver tassels. daylight never penetrated the voluptuous retreat, which only a vermillion chandelier illumined with its candles of perfumed wax. on one side of the apartment stood a prayer-stool surmounted with an ivory crucifix; on the opposite side was a thickly cushioned lounge. a turkish carpet covered the floor. a velvet portiere, closed at this moment, communicated with an inside room. it was about eight in the evening. cornelia mirant, captured on the beach of la rochelle the night before by the marquis of montbar, had just been introduced by him into the oratory of the duke of anjou. a feverish agitation imparted an unwonted glow to the countenance of the young girl. her eyes glistened; her beauty was particularly radiant; a certain coquetish touch was noticeable in the arrangement of her hair; her rochelois clothing, torn to shreds during the previous night's encounter, had been changed for a robe of poppy-red brocade. a broad embroidered scarf supported and concealed her right hand. the wound she received the day before on the neck had been dressed with care by one of the duke's own surgeons. monsieur montbar--a youth barely twenty years of age, but whose delicate features were prematurely blighted by incontinence--had exchanged his war armor for the apparel of the court. his hair was artistically curled. from his ears hung a pair of earrings encrusted with precious stones; jet black frills hung down from his wrists and encased his hands; a short mantle was thrown over his shoulders; tight-fitting hose and a toque garnished with a brooch of rubies completed his dainty outfit. the marquis had just brought cornelia into the oratory, and was saying to her: "my pretty saucebox, you are now in the oratory of the prince of anjou, brother of our well-beloved king charles ix." "one feels as if in a palace of fairies!" answered cornelia looking around with feigned and childish wonderment. "oh, what splendid tapestries! what gorgeous ornaments! it seems i must be dreaming, monseigneur! can it be possible that the prince, so great a prince, deigns to cast his eyes upon so poor a girl as i?" "come, my pretty lassy, do not cast down your eyes. be sincere--you shall ever after feel the glory of having been, if but for one day, the mistress of the king of france's brother. but what are you thinking about?" "monseigneur, all this that is happening to me seems a dream. no! you are making sport of a poor girl. monseigneur the duke of anjou does not think of me." "you will see him in a minute, i assure you; he is just now in conference with fra hervé, his confessor." and turning towards the still closed portiere, he proceeded: "i hear the curtains drawn back, and steps in the neighboring room--it is monseigneur." hardly had the marquis pronounced these last words when the drapery was raised, giving passage to the duke of anjou. the prince was then twenty-eight years of age; overindulgence had weakened his gait, and imparted to his effeminate physiognomy a wily aspect, and a suggestion of cruelty and hypocrisy to his smile; added to this, excessive ornamentation rendered his appearance trivial and even sinister. monsieur montbar took a few steps towards the duke, whispered in his ear and pointed to cornelia. the girl thrilled with suppressed emotion; her right hand, hidden in the wide folds of her scarf, seemed to twitch convulsively and involuntarily to rise to her bosom. she contemplated the prince with mixed horror and curiosity. her eyes glistened, but she quickly lowered them before the libidinous glance of the prince, who, while speaking with the marquis, regarded her covetously. he said to his favorite: "you are right, my pet; her beauty gives promise of great delight; leave us alone; i may call you in again." the marquis of montbar withdrew. left alone with cornelia, the duke of anjou stepped to the lounge, stretched himself out upon it nonchalantly with his head resting on the cushion, pulled a gold comfit-holder from his pocket, took a pastille out of it, masticated it, and after a few minutes of silent revery said to the rochelois: "approach, my pretty girl!" cornelia raised her eyes heavenward. her countenance became inspired. a slight pallor overcast it. her glistening eyes grew moist. distress was stamped on her features as she muttered to herself: "adieu, father! adieu, antonicq! the hour of self-sacrifice has sounded for me!" surprised at the immobility of cornelia, whose face he could not see distinctly, the duke of anjou sat up and repeated impatiently: "approach! you seem to be deaf, as well as mute. i told you to approach. by god's death, hurry up! come and lie down beside me!" cornelia, without the prince's noticing her motions, disengaged her arm from the folds of the scarf, and stepped deliberately towards the lounge on which he had again stretched himself out. again he motioned her to approach, saying: "come here, i tell you. i would fear to damn myself forever by contact with such a satanic heretic as you, but for fra hervé's promise to give me absolution after our amorous encounter." and rising from his soft lounge, the prince opened his arms to cornelia. the girl approached; she bowed down; then, quick as thought she seized the duke by the hair with her left hand, at the same time drawing out of the folds of her scarf her right hand armed with a short sharp steel dagger with which she struck the prince several blows in the region of the heart, crying: "die, butcher of my brothers! die, cowardly assassin of women and children!" the duke of anjou wore under his jacket a coat of mail of steel so close meshed and well tempered that cornelia's dagger broke under the blows that she dealt, while the frightened prince called out for help, gasping: "murder! she assassinates me! murder!" at the prince's cries and the noise of the struggle between them the marquis of montbar, together with several domestics of the royal household, hurried into the oratory, from the contiguous room where they always stood in waiting; they flung themselves upon cornelia and seized her by the wrists, while the prince, freed from the grasp of the brave maid, ran livid and demented to his prayer-stool, where he threw himself down upon his knees, and, with lips white with terror, shivering in every part of his body, and with his teeth clattering in his head, he stammered: "almighty god, thanks be to thee! thou hast protected thy unworthy servitor!" and bending low, till his forehead touched the ground, the terrified libertine smote his chest exclaiming: "_mea culpa! mea culpa! mea maxima culpa!_"[ ] while the duke of anjou was thus giving thanks to his god for having escaped the dagger of the young protestant girl, she, held firmly by the seigneurs and retainers who heaped upon her insults and threats of death, stood erect with proud front, defied them with steady eyes, and preserved a disdainful silence. holding himself responsible for the conduct of the huguenot girl, whom he had taken to his master's bed, the marquis of montbar drew his sword and was about to run her through, when the prince, rising from his prayer-stool cried out: "do not kill her, my pet! oh, no, she must not die so soon!" the favorite re-sheathed his sword. the duke of anjou, now pale with rage, staggered to his lounge and sat down. he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, cast a look of implacable hatred upon cornelia, and after regarding her in silence for a moment, said: "well, my pretty lass--so you meant to assassinate me!" "yes--because you are the worthy son of catherine de medici, the worthy brother of charles ix; because you suborned an assassin to poison coligny!" the duke of anjou remained unmoved, and remarked with a cruel smile: "you are a resolute girl, resolute in word and deed. i came near learning as much at my cost! what is your name?" "cornelia mirant." "what! you are the daughter of the mariner who last night almost threw into utter ruins our bayhead redoubt? you are the daughter of the devilish huguenot who has just revictualed la rochelle?" the cordelier fra hervé had just raised the portiere and was about to step into the oratory, when he heard the young girl declare her name to be cornelia mirant. the monk immediately stopped. half-hidden by the tapestry, he remained on the threshold of the room and listened to the rest of the dialogue between the huguenot girl and the prince. "you must be a girl of honorable habits. how came you to yield so readily to the propositions of the marquis?" "in the hope of being able to strike you dead with the dagger that i found in the tent of your officer," boldly answered cornelia. "a new judith, you seem to see in me a modern holofernes! everything about you breathes courage, honor, chastity. by god! i am becoming interested in you. you have wished my death--well, i wish that you live. so brave a girl should not die." "what, monseigneur! shall this wretch escape punishment!" cried the marquis of montbar, while cornelia thought to herself with a shudder: "i dread the clemency of the son of catherine de medici more than i do his ire." "yes, my pet," answered the duke of anjou to his minion; "to-day i am in a merciful mood. i shall practice the evangelical morality of jesus our savior; i shall return good for evil! i wish well to this haughty republican girl, worthy of the days of sparta and rome! i wish the brave girl so well that--here is my sentence: pinion the virgin's arms firmly; have her watched carefully in order that she may not do away with herself; and then throw her to the common soldiers of the camp. by god's death! the gay fellows will have a dainty repast! take away from my sight the immaculate virgin, who will not be a virgin much longer!" "oh! mercy! mercy! death sooner! the most horrible death! mercy!" stammered cornelia, aroused from her stupor; and dropping upon her knees at the feet of the duke of anjou, she raised to him her hands in supplication, and implored in heartrending accents: "martyrdom! for mercy's sake, martyrdom!" the prince turned to his favorites: "let the pretty heretic be taken to the garrison on the spot--on the spot, my pets. we shall follow and witness the sport of our soldiers." already was cornelia being dragged away when fra hervé suddenly interposed. the courtiers bowed low before the confessor of the duke of anjou. "my son," said the cordelier, stepping straight towards the prince, "revoke the order you have given. the heretic should not be thrown to the soldiers." "father," broke in the duke of anjou with exasperation, "are you aware the girl tried to assassinate me?" "i know it all--both the attempted crime and its failure. you shall revoke your order." "god's blood! reverend father, seeing you know it all, i declare, notwithstanding my profound respect for you, that i insist upon my revenge. my orders shall be executed." "my son, you are but a child," answered fra hervé in a tone of disdainful superiority; and leaning towards the prince the monk whispered in his ear, while cornelia, now recognizing fra hervé, shuddered from head to foot. "i dreaded the clemency of the prince--the monk's mercy terrifies me. oh, lord god, my only hope lies in you!" "as god lives, my reverend father, you are right! i am but a child!" cried the duke of anjou, beaming with infernal joy after listening to the confidential remarks whispered to him by the monk. he then again addressed his favorites: "take the heretic girl to the reverend father's cell. but, good father, keep a watchful eye upon her. her life is now as precious to you as to me." cornelia was led away upon the steps of the fratricidal monk. chapter xiii. the bill is paid. fra hervé lived in the house of the reservoir of the font suburb in a sort of cellar that was vaulted, somber and damp as a cave, and which one time served as the direct communication to the aqueduct by means of a stone staircase, closed from above by a trap door. the monk's gloomy lodging was reached through a corridor that opened into one of the rooms situated on the ground floor, and, since the siege, transformed into a hall reserved for the officers of the duke of anjou. the interior of fra hervé's retreat revealed the austerity of the man's cenobitic habits. a wooden box, filled with ashes and resembling a coffin, served him for bed. a stool stood before a rough hewn table on which were an hour-glass, a breviary, a skull and an iron lamp. the latter cast a pale light over the cave, in a corner of which a heavy trap door masked the now disused stone staircase, the entrance to which had been walled from within by the royalists, in order to prevent a surprise from that quarter, seeing the water was turned off. taken to the gloomy cell, cornelia found herself alone with the monk. she was aware there was no hope of escape or of mercy for her. the cell had no issue other than the corridor that connected with the hall of the prince's officers of the guard, which was constantly crowded with the prince's retinue. fra hervé's face was emaciated. his forehead, over which a few locks of grey hair tumbled in disorder, was bony and lustrous as the skull upon his table. except for the somber luster of his hollow eyes, one would at first sight take the scarred and fleshless head of the monk for that of a corpse. he was seated on the stool. cornelia, standing before him, shuddered with horror. she found herself alone with the monster who, at the battle of roche-la-belle, cut the throat of odelin, the father of antonicq, her betrothed. fra hervé remained meditative for a moment, and then addressed the young girl in a hollow voice: "you are aware of the fate that monseigneur the duke of anjou reserved for you in punishment for your attempted murder? you were to be thrown to the soldiers of the garrison--" "i am in your power--what do you want of me?" interrupted cornelia. "the salvation of your soul." "my soul belongs to god. i have lived and i shall die in my faith, and in execration for the catholic church." "this is but another evidence of the impiousness of the lebrenn family, a family of reprobates, of accursed people, to whom this poor creature was soon to be joined by even closer bonds than those that already join her to them!" "what! you know--?" "a rochelois prisoner informed me that you were the betrothed of antonicq, the son of him who was my brother." "monk, i shall not invoke to you the bonds of family--you have reddened your hands with your brother's blood. i shall not invoke your pity--you are pitiless. but, seeing that no heretics have been burnt for quite a while, i hope you will consent to cause me to be condemned to the pyre for a hardened heretic. i abhor the pope, his church and his priests! i abhor them as i do kings. i execrate all monks, and the whole tonsured fraternity." cornelia calculated upon exasperating the cordelier to fury, and thus to wrest from him the order to be taken to immediate execution--her only refuge from the threats of the duke of anjou. but the unfortunate girl deceived herself. fra hervé listened to her impassively, and resumed: "you are cunning. you aspire to martyrdom because death will protect you from the outrage that you fear. i am not your dupe. there will be no pyre for you!" "woe is me!" murmured the young girl, seeing her last hope dashed. "woe is me! i am lost!" "you are saved--if you will!" fra hervé proceeded to say. "what do i hear?" cried cornelia perceiving a new glimmer of hope. "what must i do? speak!" "publicly abjure your heresy! renounce satan and your father! humbly implore our holy roman catholic and apostolic church to receive you into her bosom at her mercy and discretion. the soilure, now upon you, being washed off, you shall take the eternal vows and shall bury in the shadow of the cloister the criminal life you have led in the past. choose: either immediate abjuration, or--to the soldiers. these pious catholics will slake their amorousness upon you." "oh, lord! oh, lord!" exclaimed cornelia, seized with terror, and her head reeling. "am i awake? am i dreaming? can a man, a priest, outrage a woman's modesty to such an extent? a curse upon you, wretch!" "what audacity! 'outrage' a 'woman'!" put in fra hervé with a wild and diabolical guffaw. "is there such a thing as a heretic being a '_woman_'? no! a heretic is a female, like the she-wolf in the jungle. is there such a thing as outrage with a she-wolf?" "mercy!" stammered cornelia in despair. "have mercy upon me!" "no mercy!" answered fra hervé sententiously. "you shall enter a cloister, or--you shall be given over to the lust of the soldiers. it shall be so! and now, keep your eyes upon this hour-glass," added the monk, pointing to the instrument for marking time that stood near the dead man's skull. "should you, when the water is run down, not have decided instantly to abjure and to depart this very night to a convent, you shall be delivered to the catholic soldiers!" and the monk, resting his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand, remained silent as he looked with fixed eyes at the running of the water from the upper into the lower bulb of the clepsydra, while fondling his heavy chaplet with the hand that remained free. "what am i to do?" the protestant girl asked herself. "what am i to do in this extremity? almighty god, have mercy upon me!" "one-half of the water has run down!" observed fra hervé in his sepulchral voice. "decide! there is still time!" at the lugubrious announcement cornelia's mind began to wander; still, one lucid thought rose clear above the growing vertigo that obsessed the young girl's thoughts--the thought of putting an end to her life. her bewildered eyes sought to penetrate here and there the dark recesses of the cell, which the dim light of the lamp threw heavily into the shade. they sought mechanically for some article that she might use as a weapon with which to inflict death upon herself. suddenly cornelia's eyes bulged out in amazement. she held her breath and remained petrified, thinking herself the sport of a vision. fra hervé, because of his eyes being fixed upon the hour-glass and his back turned to the trap door that masked the stone stairs leading to the aqueduct, could not take in what was happening. but cornelia saw the trap door rise noiselessly, inexplicably; presently, in the measure that it rose, the two hands and then the two arms that raised it heaved in sight; simultaneously there appeared the top of an iron casque, and an instant later the face under the casque--and cornelia recognized antonicq--her betrothed, antonicq lebrenn! "the water will run out before you have time to say an _ave_," warned the cordelier in a hollow voice, without removing his eyes from the clepsydra, and he added: "heretic! heretic! make haste! abjure your idolatry! if not you shall be thrown to the soldiers, you shall be given to the good catholics of the whole army!" the imminence of the danger and the prospect of safety restored the young girl's presence of mind. the instant her eyes discovered her betrothed she became silent, motionless, watchful. the last threats of the monk reached antonicq's ears at the moment when he had completely raised the trap door, and wrung from him despite himself an exclamation of fury. fra hervé turned sharply around and bounded from his seat in bewilderment at the sight of the young man leaping into the room from underground. cornelia, in full control of herself, and remembering that the monk's cell was separated from the hall of the officers of the guard by a short corridor of only about twenty paces, ran back to the door that opened on the corridor intending to close it, and bolt it from within. fra hervé divined the young girl's purpose, and, meaning to prevent it, precipitated himself upon her. that instant antonicq reached his betrothed, disengaged her from the clutches of the monk, seized him by the shoulders and flung him back violently. free once more, cornelia quickly carried out her purpose. she closed the door gently, and bolted and barred it from within, thus shielding herself and antonicq behind a barrier that the officers of the duke of anjou would consume considerable time before they could succeed in breaking down. at the very moment that cornelia closed the door fra hervé sounded the alarm in a sufficiently penetrating voice to be heard in the hall of the guards: "help! treason! to arms! help! the huguenots!" but instantly the cordelier's voice expired upon his lips. a vigorous hand seized him by the throat, the blade of a dagger shone in the air and twice plunged into the fratricide's breast. he fell over backward, bathed in his own blood, straightened himself for an instant, foamed at the mouth, and breathed his last;--and a muffled voice cried "_twenty-five_--the bill is paid. now i can die in peace. my sister and her daughter are avenged! the ransom of the crime is paid in full." the franc-taupin had emerged from under ground after antonicq, and preceded captain mirant, who rushed to his daughter's embrace while the franc-taupin stabbed the fratricidal monk to death. "let us flee!" said cornelia to her father and her betrothed, after responding to their demonstrations of tenderness. "the monk's cries reached the hall of the guards at the head of the corridor. i hear them coming. do you hear those steps? the sound of those approaching voices?" "we have nothing to fear. your presence of mind, my dear girl, has insured our safe retreat. they will find it no easy task to enter the cell. the door is thick, the bolt solid," remarked the franc-taupin, examining and fastening more tightly the bolt with imperturbable calmness. "cornelia, antonicq, and you, captain mirant, descend to the aqueduct quickly, and wait for me just this side of the mine that i planted in the underground passage, and near which master barbot and the sailors are waiting for our signal." turning to serpentin, the apprentice, who also came in after captain mirant the franc-taupin said: "come here, my gay fellow--bring me the little machine and implements. we shall serve up a peppery broth to the royalists." cornelia, her father and antonicq hastened to descend the stairs of the underground passage that the trap door masked. hardly had they disappeared, leaving the franc-taupin and the apprentice behind in fra hervé's cell, when they heard violent knocks given at the door, and a confused noise of voices calling out: "fra hervé! fra hervé!" the marquis of montbar was heard saying: "a minute ago he cried: 'help! treason!' he now makes no answer. the witch may have strangled the reverend father!" and the voices outside continued to cry tumultuously: "fra hervé! fra hervé! we can not get in! the door is bolted from within. the devil take it! open to us, fra hervé! we come to help you!" "quick! bring levers and an axe--or, better yet, let us break in the door!" the voice of the marquis of montbar was again heard to say. "run for a company of my soldiers! we shall wait here. hurry up!" "oh! oh!" observed the franc-taupin, after silently listening to the observations from the other side of the door, to which he had glued his ears. "the royalists are inviting themselves in large numbers to the banquet that i am preparing for them! and why not? when there is broth for five guests, there is enough for ten, if the housekeeper is economical. just wait, my friends! my broth is cooking! it is so toothsome that a single spoonful will do the work for twenty or thirty persons." "master josephin, here are the implements and the little machine," said serpentin in a low voice, as he drew out of a bag that he brought suspended from his shoulders and handed over to the franc-taupin a heavy iron box about one foot long and six inches high and wide. the box, filled full with powder, was pierced in the center by a narrow slit through which a sulphured fuse was inserted. the franc-taupin took in his hands the redoubtable petard, examined the structure of the door minutely, and after a moment's reflection inserted the iron box with no little difficulty under the lower hinge. the franc-taupin then rose, and patting the apprentice upon the cheek said to him in a low voice: "tell me, my lad, why do i place the little machine so tightly between the floor and the hinge?" serpentin reflected for a moment, scratched his ear, and then reeled off his answer after the fashion of a boy who recites his lesson: "master, you place the little machine in that way in order that, when it blows up, it may tear up the door along with the hinge; the torn up hinge will tear up the masonry in which it is fastened; the torn up masonry will tear up a part of the wall; and the torn up wall will bring down the ceiling. as a result of all this the debris will roll down upon the st. bartholomew lambkins, whose flesh will have been scratched by the flying fragments of the little machine which will have been hurled in all directions, and will have whistled and ricocheted like artillery balls." "wise--wise answer, my lad," observed the franc-taupin pinching the apprentice's ear with a satisfied look. "continue to profit by my lessons in this manner, and you will become an accomplished miner, and you then will be able to contribute handsomely towards the scattering into fragments of a goodly number of papists and royalists. now, off with you, hurry down the stone steps, and wait for me at the bottom." serpentin obeyed. the franc-taupin knelt down at the threshold of the door, took from his belt a horn of powder and spilt along the floor a sufficient quantity to quite cover up the fuse. thereupon, retreating on his knees, he laid down a long train of powder. the train skirted fra hervé's corpse and ended at the opening of the trap door, down which he descended. josephin stopped on the stair so that only his head appeared above the level of the flooring. listening in the direction of the door, behind which he could hear a confused noise of voices, he said to himself: "the catholic vermin is swarming behind the door, but i still have time to cut my _twenty-fifth_ notch." he took the little stick which he habitually carried hung on a string from a buttonhole of his jacket, pulled out his dagger, and cutting into the wood, the aged soldier said: "hena, my sister's daughter, was plunged twenty-five times into the flames by the priests of the church of rome. i have just put to death my twenty-fifth roman catholic and apostolic priest!" as he murmured these words to himself, josephin contemplated the corpse of fra hervé, stretched out upon his back in a pool of blood, with stiffened arms, clenched fists and half bent knees. the light from the lamp shed its pale luster upon the monk's face upon which the agony of death was still stamped. the jaws were close set; foam oozed out at the lips; the corpse's glassy and fixed eyes still seemed to preserve their threatening aspect from the depth of their cavities. "oh!" exclaimed the franc-taupin with a terrible sigh, "how many times, alas! how very many times, seated at the hearth of my poor sister, when the unfortunate being who lies there dead and still foaming at his mouth with rage was a little boy, how often i took him and his younger brother odelin upon my knees! caressed their little blonde heads! kissed their plump cheeks! joining in their infantine amusements, i entertained them, i gladdened them with my franc-taupin songs! in those days hervé equalled his brother in the gentleness of his character and the kindness of his heart. the two were the joy, the pride, the hope of my sister and of christian! but one day a monk, a demon, fra girard, took possession of the mind of unhappy hervé, dominated it, led it astray, corrupted it, and debased it forever! oh! priests of rome! priests of rome! a curse upon you! alas! out of the sweet boy, whom i loved so dearly, you made a bloodthirsty fanatic, a wrathful madman, a fratricide--and it became my duty to smite him with my dagger--him--him--my own sister's child!" the franc-taupin was drawn from his revery by the ringing sound of blows struck with maces and the butts of arquebuses against the door from without, and splintering its woodwork, while, rising above the tumult, the voice of the marquis of montbar was heard crying: "to work! strike hard! harder still! break in the door!" "well! the hour has come for the st. bartholomew lambkins to dance in the air!" said the franc-taupin. without hurrying, without losing his calmness, he pulled from his pocket a tinder box, a wick and a flint and steel. striking upon the flint with the iron, he hummed between his teeth the old song that the memories of odelin's and hervé's infancy had recalled to his mind: "a franc-taupin had an ash-tree bow, all eaten with worms, and all knotted its cord; his arrow was made out of paper, and plumed, and tipped at the end with a capon's spur. _derideron, vignette on vignon! derideron!_" during the song of the old soldier, who calmly continued to strike at the flint, the blows aimed at the door redoubled in violence. presently it was heard to crack, yield, break, and one of its fragments fell inside the apartment. immediately thereupon josephin applied the lighted wick to the train of powder and vanished underground letting down the heavy trap door over his head. the train of powder took fire, shot along its course as rapid as a flash of lightning, and reached the fuse of the petard, which exploded with a great crash at the very moment when the door, finally broken through, offered a passage to the marquis of montbar, closely followed by his henchmen. like himself, they were blown up, mutilated or killed by the fragments of the iron box which flew into pieces. the masonry of the door, being torn down by the explosion, ripped the rest of the wall after it, bringing down the ceiling which fell in a heap upon the heads of the royalists. cornelia, antonicq, master barbot, captain mirant and six resolute mariners who accompanied him but whose help was not needed, were soon joined at the bottom of the aqueduct by the apprentice and the franc-taupin. josephin forthwith blew up the mine that he had laid at that place in order completely to obstruct the passage of the royalists in case they attempted to pursue the fugitives. the whole party soon arrived safe and sound at la rochelle, where they met louis rennepont and his wife, a prey to mortal anxiety upon the issue of the enterprise, which had that morning been planned, upon theresa's bringing back from the beach the news of cornelia's capture and reservation for the duke of anjou. * * * * * the bloody defeat, sustained by the royalists at the assault of the bastion of the evangelium, was the presage of the raising of the siege of la rochelle. after two other stubbornly contested encounters, at which the royalist forces were again repulsed, the duke of anjou commissioned several seigneurs as parliamentarians to the rochelois with propositions of peace. the majority of the city council took the stand that the huguenots refused to lay down arms until a new royal edict consecrated their rights and their liberty. the minority of the city council, aware of the worthlessness of all royal edicts, favored breaking with royalty for all time. the view of the majority prevailed. commissioners were appointed by both sides, to agree upon the bases of a new edict. the catholic commissioners were the seigneur of la vauguyon, rené of villequier, francis of la baume, the count of suze, the seigneur of malicorne, marshal montluc, armand of gontaut-biron, and the count of retz. the rochelois commissioners were two bourgeois, morrisson the mayor, and captain gargouillaud. the reformers stoutly maintained their position, and stipulated for the same, not in the name of their own city only, but in the name of all the reformers of the protestant republican union. these stipulations were subsequently rejected by the union, so soon as they became known, upon the just ground of the rest of the union's not having been consulted, and of its declining to recognize the royal authority. thus, thanks to their bold insurrection and their heroic resistance the rochelois imposed upon charles ix the new edict of july , . this edict consecrated and extended all the rights previously conquered by the reformers. a clause in this edict, which was a crushing document to the catholic party, provided: "that all armed insurrections which took place after the night of august , , are amnestied." thus charles ix was made to admit that the reformers had justly drawn the sword to avenge the crime of st. bartholomew's night! thus the siege of la rochelle was disgracefully raised by the catholic army. this expedition cost the king immense sums of money, and he lost in the course of the several assaults upon the city, and also from sickness, about twenty-two thousand men. among the seigneurs and captains killed during the siege were the duke of aumale, clermont, tallard, cosseins, du guast, etc., besides over three hundred subaltern officers. thus you see, oh, sons of joel! the glorious issue to the rochelois of the siege of their city once more consecrates this truth, so often inscribed in the annals of our plebeian family: "never falter! let us struggle, let us battle without flagging. it is fatedly decreed that, only and ever through force, arms in hand, through insurrection, we can conquer our freedom and our rights, which are ever denied to us, ignored and violated by our eternal foes--royalty and the church of rome." epilogue. on this day, the th of september, , i, antonicq lebrenn, now in my sixty-first year, close, on our farm of karnak, this legend of our family, which is the continuation of the narrative written and bequeathed to us by my grandfather christian the printer and friend of robert estienne. immediately upon the raising of the siege of la rochelle i married cornelia mirant. shortly after i put into execution a project that i had long been fondly nursing--that of moving to brittany and establishing myself in the neighborhood of the cradle of my family. before leaving la rochelle, colonel plouernel, who recovered from his wounds sustained in the siege, renewed his offer of leasing out to me a farm belonging to the seigniorial estate of mezlean, a patrimony of his wife's father, and known as the karnak farm by reason of its being in the close neighborhood of the druid stones that bear that name. these stones are still extant, ranged in wide avenues, as they stood in the days of julius caesar, when our ancestress hena, the virgin of the isle of sen, offered herself to the gods as a holocaust, in the hope of causing them to render the arms of the gauls victorious in their impending struggle for independence. i accepted colonel plouernel's offer, an offer that also pleased cornelia and her father, who, as he continued almost constantly to travel by water between la rochelle and vannes, a port located near karnak, foresaw, as happened in fact, that he would spend near us all the time that he did not spend aboard ship. i sold my armorer's shop. leaving my sister theresa and her husband louis rennepont at la rochelle, where the latter practiced the profession of law, and taking with us my uncle the franc-taupin, who promised to himself the pleasure of rocking our children on his knees and singing to them his franc-taupin songs, as he had done to my father odelin, my ill-starred aunt hena, and my uncle hervé of sad memory, we departed from la rochelle and settled down on our farm of karnak on october of the year . my sister theresa and her husband louis rennepont still reside in the old protestant city. every year they come to see us. thanks to the numerous trips that his profession compelled him to make to paris, my brother-in-law came in contact with several huguenots who were well informed on current events. his conversations with them, together with extracts from several books that were published concerning leading public men and important occurrences, furnished him with copious materials which he left with me. these materials enable me here to make a summary sketch of the leading events since the siege of la rochelle was raised: the edict of pacification of la rochelle was not wholly satisfactory to the huguenots of the other provinces. the example of the low countries, then in successful revolt against the monarchic-clerical power of spain, and organized upon the republican pattern, inspired their brothers in france to renewed efforts. the "politicals" gained new recruits every day. the prince of condé, ashamed of his act of desertion, fled the court and issued a manifesto from strasburg repudiating his abjuration. measures were in train to renew the war, and to overthrow charles ix, when his death gave a new turn to affairs. the monster expired in , barely twenty-four years of age and haunted by his bloody deeds. "oh! nurse, nurse!" he would cry in agonies of terror; "oh! nurse, how much blood--it is st. bartholomew's blood! oh! how many murders--how many victims struggling to escape under the sword. i see them--oh! what wicked councillors i had! oh, god! oh, god! have mercy upon me!"[ ] charles ix was followed by his brother the duke of anjou, who, in the meantime, had been elected king of poland. apprized by his mother of his brother's decease, he fled his polish kingdom, and mounted the french throne under the name of henry iii. true to his family traditions, henry iii sought at first to violate the edict of la rochelle. finding this act of treachery unfeasible, he vacillated between extreme reaction and progress. this course earned for him the suspicion of the catholic clergy and he was assassinated by a dominican monk, james clement, in . war again broke out, with henry of bearn now at the head of the huguenots, to whom he returned during the reign of henry iii. henry of bearn now claimed the crown by inheritance as henry iv, besieged paris, and was finally crowned, but not until he once more abjured protestantism. his reign was benign and favorable to the reformation. in the edict of nantes was signed, granting the huguenots absolute freedom of conscience. the policy of henry iv enraged the priesthood, and he also fell a victim to the assassin's knife. the assassin's name was francis ravaillac. "nine days after the death of henry iv, on tuesday, may , , an altercation took place between monsieur leomenie and father cotton in full council. leomenie said to the jesuit that it was he _and his society of jesus that murdered the king_. on that same day, ravaillac, being interrogated by the commission, answered _in accordance with the maxims of the jesuits mariana, becanus and others, whose writings recommend the killing of a tyrant_." the death of henry iv conjured away the danger that rome, the empire and spain saw themselves threatened with--the christian republic and the perpetual peace of europe. the fresh murder, also committed at the instigation of the disciples of loyola, had fatal consequences. but sooner or later right triumphs over wrong, justice over iniquity. therefore, oh, sons of joel! no faltering. some day the universal republic will unfurl the red banner of freedom, and will break the yoke both of the roman church and of this royalty that has oppressed gaul for so many centuries. as to our own family, cornelia mirant with whom i have now been married thirty-seven years, gave me after twenty years of our wedded life, a son whom i have named stephan. we have lived on our farm near the sacred stones of karnak, and not far from craigh, the high hill upon which, according to our family traditions, stood the house of our ancestor joel in the days of julius caesar. my uncle the franc-taupin remained with us to the end of his long and eventful life. he died on the th of november, . my brother-in-law louis rennepont continues to exercise his profession at la rochelle. the youngest of his sons, marius rennepont, embraced the career of merchant mariner and sailed away, when still very young, on board a merchant vessel commanded by one of captain mirant's friends. captain mirant died in . that same year we lost our old friend master barbot, the boilermaker of the isle of rhe. i preserved amicable relations to the end with colonel plouernel, since the battle of roche-la-belle the head of his house. shortly before his death we visited upon his invitation the old castle of plouernel, where our ancestor den-brao the mason was buried alive together with other serfs in the donjon constructed by themselves, and out of which fergan the quarryman, den-brao's son, rescued his own child, a poor boy whose blood was to assist the incantations of azenor the pale, the mistress of neroweg vi. nothing is left to-day of that feudal edifice but imposing ruins. its place is now taken by a magnificent castle built in the style of the renaissance, and raised at the foot of the mountain. colonel plouernel's son remained faithful to the reformed religion, but, after his death, his son abjured protestantism and took up his residence at the court of louis xiii, the successor of henry iv, with whom he became a favorite. the new head of the family never returned to his own castle, which, together with the vast domains attached to it, is ruled by the bailiffs of the seigniories of plouernel and mezlean. once, on the occasion of a trip to the port of vannes, i met a traveler just arrived from germany, who informed me of the death of prince charles of gerolstein, a descendant of one of the branches of our plebeian family whose ancestor was gaëlo, one of the companions of old rolf, the chief of the northman pirates. prince charles left a son behind, heir of his principality, who remains faithful to the reformed religion. our life has run peaceful and happy at this place. we cultivate our fields, and they satisfy our wants. my son stephan, now sixteen years of age, helps me in my field labors. he is of a kind, timid and diffident disposition, although born of so intrepid a mother as cornelia. he will, i hope, live peacefully here, unless the civil discords, which already begin to threaten the minority of louis xiii, should extend into brittany. i shall here close this narrative which my grandfather christian the printer began under the reign of francis i. i shall join it to the archives and relics of our family together with the pocket bible printed by my grandfather, and which his daughter hena, baptized in religion sister st. frances-in-the-tomb, held in her hands before she was plunged twenty-five times into the flames on the st of january, , under the eyes of king francis i, to the greater glory of the roman catholic and apostolic church. the end. footnotes: [ ] tire-laines means literally wool-pluckers. [ ] tire-soies: literally silk-pluckers. [ ] mauvais-garçons; literally bad boys. [ ] from the bowels of the earth i have cried up to thee, o, lord; o, lord, give ear unto my voice. may thy ears be ready to listen to the voice of my supplications. [ ] this whole sermon la a reproduction from the records of the time. see merle d'aubigné, _history of the reformation in the xvi century_, vol. . p. . (pp. , , edition h. w. hagemann publishing co., new york, .) [ ] we consider it our duty to cite literally the monstrous fact against which the heart rises in revolt, and reason feels indignant: "sub commissariis insuper ac praedicatoribus veniarum imponere ut si quis, per impossibile. _dei genetricem_, semper virginem violasset, quod eundem indulgentiarum vigore absolvere posset luce clarius est...."--(l'ositiones fratris j. tezelil, quibus defendit indulgentias contra lutherum. theses , and ). cited by merle d'aubigné, _history of the reformation in the xvi century_, p. , edition h. w. hagemann publishing co., new york, . [ ] merle d'aubigné. _history of the reformation in the xvi century_, vol. i, pp. , . (p. , edition h. w. hagemann publishing co., new york, .) [ ] the seat of the university of paris. [ ] for these horrible calumnies spread by the clergy against the reformation, see de thou, vol. i, book ii, p. . [ ] in spanish, as well as french, "woman" and "wife" are the same word. loyola punned upon the word. [ ] for a thrilling account of one of these invasions, see "the iron arrow head," the tenth of this series. [ ] "executio ad alios pertinet."--bellarmin, vol. i, chap. vii, p. . [ ] mariana, _de rege, vol. i_, chap. vi, p. . [ ] "'alas', the monk explained, ' ... men have arrived at such a pitch of corruption now-a-days, that unable to make them come to us, we must e'en go to them, otherwise they would cast us off altogether; ... our casuists have taken under consideration the vices to which people of various conditions are most addicted, with a view of laying down maxims which ... are so gentle that he must be a very impracticable subject indeed who is not pleased with them.'"--blaise pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vi, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] _practice according to the school of the society of jesus (praxis ex societatis jesu schola)._ the passage reads: "si habitum dimmittat ut furetur occulte, vel fornicetur."--treatise , example , number . also in diana: "ut eat incognitus ad lupanar."--cited by blaise pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vi, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father gaspar hurtado, _on the subject of sins (de sub. pecc._), diff. ; diana, p. ; treatise , r. .--cited by blaise pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father anthony escobar of mendoza, _exposition of uncontroverted opinions in moral theology_, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vi, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father etienne bauny, _summary of sins_ ( ), sixth edition, pp. , .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vi, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] "non ut malum pro malo reddat, sed ut conservet honorem." are the words of reginaldus, in _practice according to the school of the society of jesus_, book , no. , p. . also lessius, _concerning justice (de justitia)_, book , chap. , division , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vii, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] sanchez, _moral theology_, book , chap. , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] molina, vol. , treatise , division , no. . also escobar, _moral theology_, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father bauny, _summary of sins_, chap. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] "media benevolentia."--escobar, _moral theology_, treatise , example , no. . , .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] lessius, confirmed by escobar, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] lessius, book , chap. , division ; approved and endorsed by escobar: "quamvis mulier illicite acquirat, licite tamen retinet acquisita." treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] lessius, book , chap. , division . also escobar, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] vasquez, _treatise upon alms_, chap. . so, also, diana.--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter vi, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] escobar, treatise , example , no. ; treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter viii, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] sanchez, part , book , chap. , no. ; filiutius, treatise , chap. , nos. , .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter ix, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father bauny, _summary of sins_, p. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter ix, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] escobar, chapter on thieving, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter ix, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] "ob naturalem fastus inclinationem"--escobar, treatise , example , no. .--cited by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter ix, pp. , , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] father bauny, _summary of sins_, p. .--alluded to by pascal, _letters to a provincial_, letter ix, p. , edition houghton, osgood & co., boston, . [ ] to the greater glory of god. [ ] confession of faith of the english reformers.--theodore de beze, _ecclesiastical annals_, vol. , pp. - . [ ] this charming passage is to be found in _the book of master bernard palissy_; quoted in the _protestant review_, vol. i, p. . [ ] form adopted by the consistory [ ] protestant marriage service, according to the psalms of david; translated into french by clement marot, geneva. [ ] _history of the town of paris_, by dom felibien, of the congregation of st. maur; paris, , vol. v, p. . also given in the _registers of the town hall of paris_, and the _registers of the parliaments_, folios - . [ ] dom felibien, _history of the town of paris_, vol. v, pp. - ; _french ceremonial_, pp. and following; _registers of the town hall of paris_, etc. [ ] de thou, _history of france_, book i, p. . [ ] these monstrosities seem to exceed the boundaries of the possible. let us quote literally the text of the historians: "on the evening of the same day (january , ) the six culprits were taken to the parvise of notre dame, where the fires were prepared to burn them. above the pyres rose a sort of scaffolding on which the patients were tied fast. the fire was then lighted under them, and the executioners, gently slacking the rope of the lever, allowed the miscreants to dip down to the level of the flames, in order that they be caused to feel the sharpest smart; they were then raised up again, kept hanging ablaze in midair, and, after having been several times put through that painful torment, they were dropped into the flames where they expired." (_history of france_ by father daniel of the society of jesus, vol. iv, page , paris, .) "on the said day (january , ) in the presence of the king, the queen and all the court, and after the aforesaid remonstrances, the six heretics were brought forward to make the _amende honorable_ before the church of notre dame of paris, and immediately after they were burned alive." (_acts and deeds of the kings of france and england_, by jean bouchet. poitiers, , in-folio, pp. - .) "in order to purge their sin, the said heretics were burned to death on the said day (january , ) at several places, as the king passed by, while in vain the poor sufferers cried and implored him for mercy." (_history of the state of religion_, by jean sleidan. , vol. ix, p. ). (quotations from catholic works.) [ ] _exhortation of the king of france against the heretics_, jean bouchet, poitiers, , in-folio, p. . [ ] on the subject of this decree, which was later forcibly annulled, see _extracts of the registers of the parliament of paris_, lxxvi, folio , collated and extracted by m. taillandier.--cited in the introduction to the _history of the printing press in paris, memoirs of the society of antiquaries_, vol. xii. [ ] it was no infrequent occurrence to cause the tongues of heretics to be cut out, in order to prevent them from confessing aloud the evangelical doctrine as they marched to the stake.--see the following citation, from theodore of beze. [ ] "among those burnt at paris that day, january , , were: john dubourg, a merchant-draper of paris, living in st. denis street, at the sign of the black horse; etienne laforge, of tournay, but long an inhabitant of paris, a man very rich and very charitable; a schoolmistress named mary la catelle; and anthony poille, an architect formerly of meaux, and blessed of god in that he carried off the palm among the martyrs, for having been the most cruelly treated. he had his tongue cut out, as more fully it is set forth in the book of the martyrs."--_ecclesiastical chronicles_, theodore of beze, vol. i, p. . [ ] "jacques bonhomme," literally goodman jack, or jack drudge. [ ] contribution in forced labor. [ ] latin: "let us pray." [ ] brantoine, _illustrious women_, vol. ix, p. . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, p. . [ ] the queen's words are historical. the book was _marvelous discourses on catherine de medici_, by robert estienne, geneva, . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, p. . [ ] that was the familiar appellation at court of princess marguerite, the daughter of catherine of medici and henry ii, so famous for her excesses. she married henry iv, who later divorced her. [ ] de thou, _history of france_, book lxxiv, p. . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, supplement, p. . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, supplement, p. . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, p. . it is impossible to cite in full this all too true satire on the abominable morals of the court of france in the sixteenth century. [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, supplement, pp. , . [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, supplement, p. . [ ] "driven thereto by the cardinal of lorraine, who blamed the conduct of the duke of anjou, the queen came to the army in person in order to enlighten herself upon the mistake of not having engaged battle before the enemy's forces had effected a junction, that is, after the death of the duke of deux-ponts, who was poisoned by some wine presented to him by a wine merchant of avallon. her majesty wished to take the field with marshal tavannes."--_memoirs of gaspard of sault, seigneur of tavannes._ pp. - . [ ] letters of pius v. march -april , , at catena--_life of pius_ v, p. . [ ] de thou, _history of france_, lxxxv, p. . [ ] machiavelli, _the prince_, chap. . [ ] _journal and memoirs of francis of lorraine_, duke of aumale and of guise, containing the affairs of france and the negotiations with scotland, italy and germany, pp. - . [ ] exodus , - . [ ] morning prayer of the guard, .--_protestant review_, vol. i, p. . [ ] the document, here reproduced, is the literal testament of admiral coligny, taken from the original manuscripts of the national library, collection of puy, vol. lxxxi. this document, of so great a historic value, was first published in full in by the historical society of french protestants, vol. i. p. . that which, in our estimation, imparts a double interest to the testament, is the circumstance that it was written by the admiral during the war (june, ) after the battle of jarnac and before the battle of montcontour. [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, p. . the original of this monstrous letter was deposited among the manuscripts of the national library of france by decree of the convention, the th, ventose, year ii of the republic. the immortal constitutionals wished thus to nail royalty once more to the pillory of history. [ ] "while the admiral was in camp, dominic, one of his chamber valets, convicted of having tried to poison his master, was hanged.... having been captured by la riviere, captain of the guard of the duke of anjou, he was overwhelmed with promises; he was made to expect everything, if he would poison his master. dominic yielded, received money and a poisonous powder, and returned to the camp of monsieur coligny."--de thou, _history of france_, vol. v, p. - . see the same historian on the poisoning of the duke of deux-ponts, of dandolet, and others. [ ] inhabitants of the fortified city of la rochelle. [ ] for the details of this battle, see de thou, vol. v. p. ; _memoires of gaspard of sault_, seigneur of tavannes, vol. i, p. and following. _memoires of francis of lanoüe_, vol. i, p. , and following. [ ] _memories of the state of france under charles ix_, vol. , pp. - . [ ] "contre-un" (against-one) is the title at a book written in the sixteenth century by estienne of la boetie against monarchy. [ ] la boétie is to-day known mainly through the friendship that united him to montaigne, and which inspired the latter to write one of his most charming passages. la boétie was born in sarlat, november , ; he died in germignat, near bordeaux, august , . he left several works, all of which are to-day almost unknown. unquestionably the most curious of his productions is the one mentioned by montaigne in these terms: "my power of handling not being such that i dare to offer as a fine piece richly painted and set off according to art, i have therefore thought best to borrow one of estienne of la boetie, and such a one as will honor and adorn all the rest of my work: namely, a discourse that he called _voluntary servitude_, which others have since further baptized the _contre-un_, a piece written in his younger years, by way of essay, in honor of liberty against tyranny, and which has since been in the hands of several men of great learning and judgment, not without singular and merited commendation, for it is finely written and as full as anything can possibly be."--montaigne, essays, book i, chap. . [ ] an allusion to the vision of victoria, depicted in "the casque's lark," the fifth of this series. [ ] it is certain that admiral coligny's head departed for rome; whether it ever arrived there is not known. mandelot, the governor of lyons, acknowledged receipt of a letter from charles ix ordering the nobleman "_to arrest the carrier of the head, and to take the same away from him_."--extracts from the correspondence of mandelot, published by m. paulin, paris, , p. . [ ] out of respect for our female readers we dare not here quote the _register journal of l'etoile_, page , where is found _in extenso_ the conversation, marked by a savage obscenity, between the queen and the court ladies who accompanied her. the conversation is confirmed by all contemporaneous historians. [ ] see "the brass bell," number two in this series. [ ] see "the carlovingian coins," the ninth of this series. [ ] see, on the siege of la rochelle, the daring manoeuvres of captain mirant; the combat sustained by barbot the boilermaker, single-handed against two companies; the firing of the stranded ship _l'ensensoir_ by the rochelois women, and their heroism in the combats in which they took part, _history of la rochelle and of the country of aunis_, by arcère , vols. in quarto. i refer my readers to that excellent work in order that those who would wish to certify the facts may see that all the episodes herein narrated concerning the siege of la rochelle are strictly historic. [ ] as thrillingly recounted in "the pilgrim's shell," the twelfth work of this series. [ ] as an instance of the proud and noble bearing of the staunch republicans in this council, the story is told that when it was found that in the passport issued by the duke of anjou the rochelois were designated as "rebels," they refused to accept it, and anjou was forced to send another passport.--_history of la rochelle_, by arcere, p. . [ ] "i am guilty, i am guilty, i am very guilty." [ ] _register journal of l'etoile_, p. . chronicles of the schÖnberg-cotta family by two of themselves. new york: dodd, mead & company, publishers. publisher's note. to those unfamiliar with the history of luther and his times, the title of this unique work may not sufficiently indicate its character. the design of the author is to so reproduce the times of the reformation as to place them more vividly and impressively before the mind of the reader than has been done by ordinary historical narratives. she does this with such remarkable success, that it is difficult to realize we are not actually hearing luther and those around him speak. we seem to be personal actors in the stirring scenes of that eventful period. one branch of the cotta family were luther's earliest, and ever after, his most intimate friends. under the title of "chronicles" our author makes the members of this family, (which she brings in almost living reality before us), to record their daily experiences as connected with the reformation age. this diary is fictitious, but it is employed with wonderful skill in bringing the reader face to face with the great ideas and facts associated with luther and men of his times, as they are given to us by accredited history, and is written with a beauty, tenderness and power rarely equalled. i. elsè's story. friedrich wishes me to write a chronicle of my life. friedrich is my eldest brother. i am sixteen, and he is seventeen, and i have always been in the habit of doing what he wishes; and therefore, although it seems to me a very strange idea, i do so now. it is easy for friedrich to write a chronicle, or anything else, because he has thoughts. but i have so few thoughts, i can only write what i see and hear about people and things. and that is certainly very little to write about, because everything goes on so much the same always with us. the people around me are the same i have known since i was a baby, and the things have changed very little; except that the people are more, because there are so many little children in our home now, and the things seem to me to become less, because my father does not grow richer: and there are more to clothe and feed. however, since fritz wishes it, i will try; especially as ink and paper are the two things which are plentiful among us, because my father is a printer. fritz and i have never been separated all our lives until now. yesterday he went to the university at erfurt. it was when i was crying at the thought of parting with him that he told me his plan about the chronicle. he is to write one, and i another. he said it would be a help to him, as our twilight talk has been--when always, ever since i can remember, we two have crept away in summer into the garden, under the great pear-tree, and in winter into the deep window of the lumber-room inside my father's printing-room, where the bales of paper are kept, and old books are piled up, among which we used to make ourselves a seat. it may be a help and comfort to fritz, but i do not see how it ever can be any to me. he had all the thoughts, and he will have them still. but i--what shall i have for his voice and his dear face, but cold, blank paper, and no thoughts at all! besides, i am so very busy, being the eldest; and the mother is far from strong, and the father so often wants me to help him at his types, or to read to him while he sets them. however, fritz wishes it, and i shall do it. i wonder what his chronicle will be like! but where am i to begin? what is a chronicle? two of the books in the bible are called "chronicles" in latin--at least fritz says that is what the other long word[ ] means--and the first book begins with "adam," i know, because i read it one day to my father for his printing. but fritz certainly cannot mean me to begin so far back as that. of course i could not remember. i think i had better begin with the oldest person i know, because she is the furthest on the way back to adam; and that is our grandmother von schönberg. she is very old--more than sixty--but her form is so erect, and her dark eyes so piercing, that sometimes she looks almost younger than her daughter, our precious mother, who is often bowed down with ill-health and cares. [footnote : paralipomenon.] our grandmother's father was of a noble bohemian family, and that is what links us with the nobles, although my father's family belongs to the burgher class. fritz and i like to look at the old seal of our grandfather von schönberg, with all its quarterings, and to hear the tales of our knightly and soldier ancestors--of crusader and baron. my mother, indeed, tells us this is a mean pride, and that my father's printing-press is a symbol of a truer nobility than any crest of battle-axe or sword; but our grandmother, i know, thinks it a great condescension for a schönberg to have married into a burgher family. fritz feels with my mother, and says the true crusade will be waged by our father's black types far better than by our great-grandfather's lances. but the old warfare was so beautiful, with the prancing horses and the streaming banners! and i cannot help thinking it would have been pleasanter to sit at the window of some grand old castle like the wartburg, which towers above our town, and wave my hand to fritz, as he rode, in flashing armour, on his war-horse, down the steep hill side, instead of climbing up on piles of dusty books at our lumber-room window, and watching him, in his humble burgher dress, with his wallet (not too well filled), walk down the street, while no one turned to look. ah, well! the parting would have been as dreary, and fritz himself could not be nobler. only i cannot help seeing that people do honour the bindings and the gilded titles, in spite of all my mother and fritz can say; and i should like my precious book to have such a binding, that the people who could not read the inside, might yet stop to look at the gold clasps and the jewelled back. to those who can read the inside, perhaps it would not matter. for of all the old barons and crusaders my grandmother tells us of, i know well none ever were or looked nobler than our fritz. his eyes are not blue, like mine--which are only german cotta eyes, but dark and flashing. mine are very good for seeing, sewing, and helping about the printing; but his, i think, would penetrate men's hearts and command them, or survey a battle-field at a glance. last week, however, when i said something of the kind to him, he laughed, and said there were better battle-fields than those on which men's bones lay bleaching; and then there came that deep look into his eyes, when he seems to see into a world beyond my reach. but i began with our grandmother, and here i am thinking about friedrich again. i am afraid that he will be the beginning and end of my chronicle. fritz has been nearly all the world to me. i wonder if that is why he is to leave me. the monks say we must not love any one too much; and one day, when we went to see aunt agnes, my mother's only sister, who is a nun in the convent of nimptschen, i remember her saying to me when i had been admiring the flowers in the convent garden, "little elsè, will you come and live with us, and be a happy, blessed sister here?" i said, "_whose_ sister, aunt agnes? i am fritz's sister! may fritz come too?" "fritz could go into the monastry at eisenach," she said. "then i would go with him," i said. "i am fritz's sister, and i would go nowhere in the world without him." she looked on me with a cold, grave pity, and murmured, "poor little one, she is like her mother, the heart learns to idolize early. she has much to unlearn. god's hand is against all idols." that is many years ago; but i remember as if it were yesterday, how the fair convent garden seemed to me all at once to grow dull and cheerless at her words and her grave looks, and i felt it damp and cold like a church-yard; and the flowers looked like made flowers; and the walls seemed to rise like the walls of a cave, and i scarcely breathed until i was outside again, and had hold of fritz's hand. for i am not at all religious. i am afraid i do not even wish to be. all the religious men and women i have ever seen do not seem to me half so sweet as my poor dear mother; nor as kind, clever, and cheerful as my father; nor half as noble and good as fritz. and the lives of the saints puzzle me exceedingly, because it seems to me that if every one were to follow the example of st. catherine, and even our own st. elizabeth of hungary, and disobey their parents, and leave their little children, it would make everything so very wrong and confused. i wonder if any one else ever felt the same, because these are thoughts i have never even told to fritz; for he _is_ religious, and i am afraid it would pain him. our grandmother's husband fled from bohemia on account of religion; but i am afraid it was not the right kind of religion, because no one seems to like to speak about it; and what fritz and i know about him is only what we have picked up from time to time, and put together for ourselves. nearly a hundred years ago, two priests preached in bohemia, called john huss and jerome of prague. they seem to have been dearly beloved, and to have been thought good men during their life-time; but people must have been mistaken about them, for they were both burnt alive as heretics at constance in two following years--in and ; which of course proves that they could not have been good men, but exceedingly bad. however, their friends in bohemia would not give up believing what they had learned of these men, although they had seen what end it led to. i do not think this was strange, because it is so very difficult to make oneself believe what one ought, as it is, and i do not see that the fear of being burned even would help one to do it; although, certainly, it might keep one silent. but these friends of john huss were many of them nobles and great men, who were not accustomed to conceal their thoughts, and they would not be silent about what huss had taught them. what this was, fritz and i never could find out, because my grandmother, who answers all our other questions, never would tell us a word about this. we are, therefore, afraid it must be something very wicked indeed. and yet, when i asked one day if our grandfather (who, we think, had followed huss), was a wicked man, her eyes flashed like lightning, and she said vehemently,-- "better never lived or died!" this perplexes us, but perhaps we shall understand it, like so many other things, when we are older. great troubles followed on the death of huss. bohemia was divided into three parties, who fought against each other. castles were sacked, and noble women and little children were driven into caves and forests. our forefathers were among the sufferers. in the conflict reached its height; many were beheaded, hung, burned alive, or tortured. my grandfather was killed as he was escaping, and my grandmother encountered great dangers, and lost all the little property which was left her, in reaching eisenach, a young widow with two little children, my mother and aunt agnes. whatever it was that my great grandfather believed wrong, his wife did not seem to share it. she took refuge in the augustinian convent, where she lived until my aunt agnes took the veil, and my mother was married, when she came to live with us. she is as fond of fritz as i am, in her way; although she scolds us all in turn, which is perhaps a good thing, because as she says, no one else does. and she has taught me nearly all i know, except the apostles' creed and ten commandments, which our father taught us, and the paternoster and ave mary which we learned at our mother's knee. fritz, of course, knows infinitely more than i do. he can say the cisio janus (the church calendar) through without one mistake, and also the latin grammar, i believe; and he has read latin books of which i cannot remember the names; and he understands all that the priests read and sing, and can sing himself as well as any of them. but the legends of the saints, and the multiplication table, and the names of herbs and flowers, and the account of the holy sepulchre, and of the pilgrimage to rome,--all these our grandmother has taught us. she looks so beautiful, our dear old grandmother, as she sits by the stove with her knitting, and talks to fritz and me, with her lovely white hair and her dark bright eyes, so full of life and youth, they make us think of the fire on the hearth when the snow is on the roof, all warm within, or, as fritz says,-- "it seems as if her heart lived always in the summer, and the winter of old age could only touch her body." but i think the summer in which our grandmother's soul lives must be rather a fiery kind of summer, in which there are lightnings as well as sunshine. fritz thinks we shall know her again at the resurrection day by that look in her eyes, only perhaps a little softened. but that seems to me terrible, and very far off; and i do not like to think of it. we often debate which of the saints she is like. i think st. anna, the mother of mary, mother of god, but fritz thinks st. catherine of egypt, because she is so like a queen. besides all this, i had nearly forgotten to say i know the names of several of the stars, which fritz taught me. and i can knit and spin, and do point stitch, and embroider a little. i intend to teach it to all the children. there are a great many children in our home and more every year. if there had not been so many, i might have had time to learn more, and also to be more religious; but i cannot see what they would do at home if i were to have a vocation. perhaps some of the younger ones may be spared to become saints. i wonder if this should turn out to be so, and if i help them, if any one ever found some little humble place in heaven for helping some one else to be religious. because then there might perhaps be hope for me after all. * * * * * our father is the wisest man in eisenach. the mother thinks, perhaps, in the world. of this, however, our grandmother has doubts. she has seen other places besides eisenach, which is perhaps the reason. he certainly is the wisest man i ever saw. he talks about more things that i cannot understand than any one else i know. he is also a great inventor. he thought of the plan of printing books before any one else, and had almost completed the invention before any press was set up. and he always believed there was another world on the other side of the great sea, long before the admiral christopher columbus discovered america. the only misfortune has been that some one else has always stepped in just before he had completed his inventions, when nothing but some little insignificant detail was wanting to make everything perfect, and carried off all the credit and profit. it is this which has kept us from becoming rich,--this and the children. but the father's temper is so placid and even, nothing ever sours it. and this is what makes us all admire and love him so much, even more than his great abilities. he seems to rejoice in these successes of other people just as much as if he had quite succeeded in making them himself. if the mother laments a little over the fame that might have been his, he smiles and says,-- "never mind, little mother. it will be all the same a hundred years hence. let us not grudge any one his reward. the world has the benefit if we have not." then if the mother sighs a little over the scanty larder and wardrobe, he replies,-- "cheer up, little mother, there are more americas yet to be discovered, and more inventions to be made. in fact," he adds, with that deep far seeing look of his, "something else has just occurred to me, which, when i have brought it to perfection, will throw all the discoveries of this and every other age into the shade." and he kisses the mother and departs into his printing-room. and the mother looks wonderingly after him, and says,-- "we must not disturb the father, children, with our little cares. he has great things in his mind, which we shall all reap the harvest of some day." so, she goes to patch some little garment once more, and to try to make one day's dinner expand into enough for two. what the father's great discovery is at present, fritz and i do not quite know. but we think it has something to do, either with the planets and the stars, or with that wonderful stone the philosophers have been so long occupied about. in either case, it is sure to make us enormously rich all at once; and, meantime, we may well be content to eke out our living as best we can. * * * * * of the mother i cannot think of anything to say. she is just the mother--our own dear, patient, loving, little mother--unlike every one else in the world; and yet it seems as if there was nothing to say about her by which one could make any one else understand what she is. it seems as if she were to other people (with reverence i say it) just what the blessed mother of god is to the other saints. st. catherine has her wheel and her crown, and st. agnes her lamb and her palm, and st. ursula her eleven thousand virgins; but mary, the ever-blessed, has only the holy child. she is the blessed woman, the holy mother, and nothing else. that is just what the mother is. she is the precious little mother, and the best woman in the world, and that is all. i could describe her better by saying what she is not. she never says a harsh word to any one nor of any one. she is never impatient with the father, like our grandmother. she is never impatient with the children, like me. she never complains or scolds. she is never idle. she never looks severe and cross at us, like aunt agnes. but i must not compare her with aunt agnes, because she herself once reproved me for doing so; she said aunt agnes was a religious, a pure, and holy woman, far, far above her sphere or ours; and we might be thankful, if we ever reached heaven, if she let us kiss the hem of her garment. * * * * * yes, aunt agnes is a holy woman--a nun; i must be careful what i say of her. she makes long, long prayers, they say,--so long that she has been found in the morning fainting on the cold floor of the convent church. she eats so little that father christopher, who is the convent confessor and ours, says he sometimes thinks she must be sustained by angels. but fritz and i think that, if that is true, the angel's food cannot be very nourishing; for, when we saw her last, through the convent grating, she looked like a shadow in her black robe, or like that dreadful picture of death we saw in the convent chapel. she wears the coarsest sackcloth, and often, they say, sleeps on ashes. one of the nuns told my mother, that one day when she fainted, and they had to unloose her dress, they found scars and stripes, scarcely healed, on her fair neck and arms, which she must have inflicted on herself. they all say she will have a very high place in heaven; but it seems to me, unless there is a very great difference between the highest and lowest places in heaven, it is a great deal of trouble to take. but, then, i am not religious; and it is altogether so exceedingly difficult to me to understand about heaven. will every one in heaven be always struggling for the high places? because when every one does that at church on the great festival days, it is not at all pleasant; those who succeed look proud, and those who fail look cross. but, of course, no one will be cross in heaven, nor proud. then how will the saints feel who do _not_ get the highest places? will they be pleased or disappointed? if they are pleased, what is the use of struggling so much to climb a little higher? and if they are not pleased, would that be saint-like? because the mother always teaches us to choose the lowest places, and the eldest to give up to the little ones. will the greatest, then, _not_ give up to the little ones in heaven? of one thing i feel sure: if the mother had a high place in heaven, she would always be stooping down to help some one else up, or making room for others. and then, what _are_ the highest places in heaven? at the emperor's court, i know, they are the places nearest him; the seven electors stand close around the throne. but can it be possible that any would ever feel at ease, and happy, so very near the almighty? it seems so exceedingly difficult to please him here, and so very easy to offend him, that it does seem to me it would be happier to be a little further off, in some little quiet corner near the gate, with a good many of the saints between. the other day, father christopher ordered me such a severe penance for dropping a crumb of the sacred host; although i could not help thinking it was as much the priest's fault as mine. but he said god would be exceedingly displeased; and fritz told me the priests fast and torment themselves severely sometimes, for only omitting a word in the mass. then the awful picture of the lord christ, with the lightnings in his hand! it is very different from the carving of him on the cross. why did he suffer so? was it, like aunt agnes, to get a higher place in heaven? or, perhaps, to have the right to be severe, as she is with us? such very strange things seem to offend and to please god, i cannot understand it at all; but that is because i have no vocation for religion. in the convent, the mother says, they grow like god, and so understand him better. is aunt agnes, then, more like god than our mother? that face, still and pale as death; those cold, severe eyes; that voice, so hollow and monotonous, as if it came from a metal tube or a sepulchre, instead of from a heart! is it with that look god will meet us, with that kind of voice he will speak to us? indeed, the judgment-day is very dreadful to think of; and one must indeed need to live many years in the convent not to be afraid of going to heaven. oh, if only our mother were the saint--the kind of good woman that pleased god--instead of aunt agnes, how sweet it would be to try and be a saint then; and how sure one would feel that one might hope to reach heaven, and that, if one reached it, one would be happy there! * * * * * aunt ursula cotta is another of the women i wish were the right kind of saint. she is my father's first cousin's wife; but we have always called her aunt, because almost all little children who know her do,--she is so fond of children, and so kind to every one. she is not poor like us, although cousin conrad cotta never made any discoveries, or even nearly made any. there is a picture of st. elizabeth of thuringia, our sainted landgravine, in our parish church, which always makes me think of aunt ursula. st. elizabeth is standing at the gate of a beautiful castle, something like our castle of the wartburg, and around her are kneeling a crowd of very poor people--cripples, and blind, and poor thin mothers, with little hungry-looking children--all stretching out their hands to the lady, who is looking on with such kindly compassionate looks, just like aunt ursula; except that st. elizabeth is very thin and pale, and looks almost as nearly starved as the beggars around her, and aunt ursula is rosy and fat, with the pleasantest dimples in her round face. but the look in the eyes is the same--so loving, and true, and earnest, and compassionate. the thinness and pallor are, of course, only just the difference there must be between a saint who fasts, and does so much penance, and keeps herself awake whole nights saying prayers, as st. elizabeth did, and a prosperous burgher's wife, who eats and sleeps like other people, and is only like the good landgravine in being so kind to every one. the other half of the story of the picture, however, would not do for aunt ursula. in the apron of the saint, instead of loaves of bread are beautiful clusters of red roses. our grandmother told us the meaning of this. the good landgravine's husband did not quite like her giving so much to the poor; because she was so generous she would have left the treasury bare. so she used to give her alms unknown to him. but on this day when she was giving away those loaves to the beggars at the castle gate, he happened suddenly to return, and finding her occupied in this way, he asked her rather severely what she had in her apron. she said "roses!" "let me see," said the landgrave. and god loved her so much, that to save her from being blamed, he wrought a miracle. when she opened her apron, instead of the loaves she had been distributing, there were beautiful flowers. and this is what the picture represents. i always wanted to know the end of the story. i hope god worked another miracle when the landgrave went away, and changed the roses back into loaves. i suppose he did, because the starving people look so contented. but our grandmother does not know. only in this, i do not think aunt ursula would have done the same as the landgravine. i think she would have said boldly if cousin cotta had asked her, "i have loaves in my apron, and i am giving them to these poor starving subjects of yours and mine," and never been afraid of what he would say. and then, perhaps, cousin cotta--i mean the landgrave's--heart would have been so touched, that he would have forgiven her, and even praised her, and brought her some more loaves. and then instead of the bread being changed to flowers, the landgrave's heart would have been changed from stone to flesh, which does seem a better thing. but when i once said this to grandmother, she said it was very wrong to fancy other ends to the legends of the saints, just as if they were fairy tales; that st. elizabeth really lived in that old castle of the wartburg, not more than three hundred years ago, and walked through those very streets of eisenach, and gave alms to the poor here, and went into the hospitals, and dressed the most loathsome wounds that no one else would touch, and spoke tender loving words to wretched outcasts no one else would look at. that seems to me so good and dear of her; but that is not what made her a saint, because aunt ursula and our mother do things like that, and our mother has told me again and again that it is aunt agnes who is like the saint, and not she. it is what she suffered, i suppose, that has made them put her in the calendar; and yet it is not suffering in itself that makes people saints, because i do not believe st. elizabeth herself suffered more than our mother. it is true she used to leave her husband's side and kneel all night on the cold floor, while he was asleep. but the mother has done the same as that often and often. when any of the little ones has been ill, how often she has walked up and down hour after hour, with the sick child in her arms, soothing and fondling it, and quieting all its fretful cries with unwearying tender patience. then st. elizabeth fasted until she was almost a shadow; but how often have i seen our mother quietly distribute all that was nice and good in our frugal meals to my father and the children, scarcely leaving herself a bit, and hiding her plate behind a dish that the father might not see. and fritz and i often say how wasted and worn she looks; not like the mother of mercy as we remember her, but too much like the wan pale mother of sorrows with the pierced heart. then as to pain, have not i seen our mother suffer pain compared with which aunt agnes or st. elizabeth's discipline must be like the prick of a pin. but yet all that is not the right kind of suffering to make a saint. our precious mother walks up and down all night not to make herself a saint, but to soothe her sick child. she eats no dinner, not because she chooses to fast, but because we are poor, and bread is dear. she suffers, because god lays suffering upon her, not because she takes it on herself. and all this cannot make her a saint. when i say anything to compassionate or to honour her, she smiles and says,-- "my elsè, i chose this lower life instead of the high vocation of your aunt agnes, and i must take the consequences. we cannot have our portion both in this world and the next." if the size of our mother's portion in the next world were to be in proportion to its smallness in this, i think she might have plenty to spare; but this i do not venture to say to her. there is one thing st. elizabeth did which certainly our mother would never do. she left her little father less children to go into a convent. perhaps it was this that pleased god and the lord jesus christ so very much, that they took her up to be so high in heaven. if this is the case, it is a great mercy for our father and for us that our mother has not set her heart on being a saint. we sometimes think, however, that perhaps although he cannot make her a saint on account of the rules they have in heaven about it, god may give our mother some little good thing, or some kind word, because of her being so very good to us. _she_ says this is no merit, however, because of her loving us so much. if she loved us less, and so found it more a trouble to work for us; or if we were little stranger beggar children she _chose_ to be kind to, instead of her own, i suppose god would like it better. there is one thing, moreover, in st. elizabeth's history which once brought fritz and me into great trouble and perplexity. when we were little children and did not understand things as we do now, but thought we ought to try and imitate the saints, and that what was right for them must be right for us, and when our grandmother had been telling us about the holy landgravine privately selling her jewels, and emptying her husband's treasury to feed the poor, we resolved one day to go and do likewise. we knew a very poor old woman in the next street, with a great many orphan grandchildren, and we planned a long time together before we thought of the way to help her like st. elizabeth. at length the opportunity came. it was christmas eve, and for a rarity there were some meat, and apples, and pies in our storeroom. we crept into the room in the twilight, filled my apron with pies, and meat, and cakes, and stole out to our old woman's to give her our booty. the next morning the larder was found, despoiled of half of what was to have been our christmas dinner. the children cried, and the mother looked almost as distressed as they did. the father's placid temper for once was roused, and he cursed the cat and the rats, and wished he had completed his new infallible rat trap. our grandmother said very quietly,-- "thieves more discriminating than rats or mice have been here. there are no crumbs, and not a thing is out of place. besides, i never heard of rats or mice eating pie-dishes." fritz and i looked at each other, and began to fear that we had done wrong, when little christopher said-- "i saw fritz and elsè carry out the pies last night." "elsè! fritz!" said our father, "what does this mean?" i would have confessed, but i remembered st. elizabeth and the roses, and said, with a trembling voice-- "they were not pies you saw, christopher, but roses." "roses," said the mother very gravely, "at christmas!" i almost hoped the pies would have reappeared on the shelves. it was the very juncture at which they did in the legend; but they did not. on the contrary, everything seemed to turn against us. "fritz," said our father very sternly, "tell the truth, or i shall give you a flogging." this was a part of the story where st. elizabeth's example quite failed us. i did not know what she would have done if some one else had been punished for her generosity; but i felt no doubt what i must do. "o father!" i said, "it is my fault--it was my thought! we took the things to the poor old woman in the next street for her grandchildren." "then she is no better than a thief," said our father, "to have taken them. fritz and elsè, foolish children, shall have no christmas dinner for their pains and elsè shall, moreover, be locked into her own room for telling a story." i was sitting shivering in my room, wondering how it was that things succeeded so differently with st. elizabeth and with us, when aunt ursula's round pleasant voice sounded up the stairs, and in another minute she was holding me laughing in her arms. "my poor little elsè! we must wait a little before we imitate our patron saint; or we must begin at the other end. it would never do, for instance, for me to travel to rome with eleven thousand young ladies like st. ursula." my grandmother had guessed the meaning of our foray, and aunt ursula coming in at the time, had heard the narrative, and insisted on sending us another christmas dinner. fritz and i secretly believed that st. elizabeth had a good deal to do with the replacing of our christmas dinner; but after that, we understood that caution was needed in transferring the holy example of the saints to our own lives, and that at present we must not venture beyond the ten commandments. yet to think that st. elizabeth, a real canonized saint--whose picture is over altars in the churches--whose good deeds are painted on the church windows, and illumined by the sun shining through them--whose bones are laid up in reliquaries, one of which i wear always next my heart--actually lived and prayed in that dark old castle above us, and walked along these very streets--perhaps even had been seen from this window of fritz's and my beloved lumber-room. only three hundred years ago! if only i had lived three hundred years earlier, or she three hundred years later, i might have seen her and talked to her, and asked her what it was that made her a saint. there are so many questions i should like to have asked her. i would have said, "dear st. elizabeth, tell me what it is that makes you a saint? it cannot be your charity, because no one can be more charitable than aunt ursula, and she is not a saint; and it cannot be your sufferings, or your patience, or your love, or your denying yourself for the sake of others, because our mother is like you in all that, and she is not a saint. was it because you left your little children, that god loves you so much? or because you not only did and bore the things god laid on you, as our mother does, but chose out other things for yourself, which you thought harder?" and if she were gentle (as i think she was), and would have listened, i would have asked her, "holy landgravine, why are things which were so right and holy in you, wrong for fritz and me?" and i would also have asked her, "dear st. elizabeth, my patroness, what is it in heaven that makes you so happy there?" but i forgot--she would not have been in heaven at all. she would not even have been made a saint, because it was only after her death, when the sick and crippled were healed by touching her body, that they found out what a saint she had been. perhaps, even, she would not herself have known she was a saint. and if so, i wonder if it can be possible that our mother is a saint after all, only she does not know it. * * * * * fritz and i are four or five years older than any of the children. two little sisters died of the plague before any more were born. one was baptized, and died when she was a year old, before she could soil her baptismal robes. therefore we feel sure she is in paradise. i think of her whenever i look at the cloud of glory around the blessed virgin in st. george's church. out of the cloud peep a number of happy child-faces--some leaning their round soft cheeks on their pretty dimpled hands, and all looking up with such confidence at the dear mother of god. i suppose the little children in heaven especially belong to her. it must be very happy, then, to have died young. but of that other little nameless babe who died at the same time none of us ever dare to speak. it was not baptized, and they say the souls of little unbaptized babes hover about for ever in the darkness between heaven and hell. think of the horror of falling from the loving arms of our mother into the cold and the darkness, to shiver and wail there for ever, and belong to no one. at eisenach we have a foundling hospital, attached to one of the nunneries founded by st. elizabeth, for such forsaken little ones. if st. elizabeth could only establish a foundling somewhere near the gates of paradise, for such little nameless outcast child-souls! but i suppose she is too high in heaven, and too far from the gates to hear the plaintive cries of such abandoned little ones. or perhaps god, who was so much pleased with her for deserting her own little children, would not allow it. i suppose the saints in heaven who have been mothers, or even elder sisters like me, leave their mother's hearts on earth, and that in paradise they are all monks and nuns like aunt agnes and father christopher. next to that little nameless one came the twin girls chriemhild (named after our grandmother), and atlantis, so christened by our father on account of the discovery of the great world beyond the sea which he had so often thought of, and which the great admiral christopher columbus accomplished about that time. then the twin boys boniface pollux and christopher castor; their names being a compromise between our father, who was struck with some remarkable conjunction of their stars at their birth, and my mother, who thought it only right to counterbalance such pagan appellations with names written in heaven. then another boy, who only lived a few weeks; and then the present baby, thekla, who is the plaything and darling of us all. * * * * * these are nearly all the people i know well; except, indeed, martin luther, the miner's son, to whom aunt ursula cotta has been so kind. he is dear to us all as one of our own family. he is about the same age as fritz, who thinks there is no one like him. and he has such a voice, and is so religious, and yet so merry withal; at least at times. it was his voice and his devout ways which first drew aunt ursula's attention to him. she had seen him often at the daily prayers at church. he used to sing as a chorister with the boys of the latin school of the parish of st. george, where fritz and he studied. the ringing tones of his voice, so clear and true, often attracted aunt ursula's attention; and he always seemed so devout. but we knew little about him. he was very poor, and had a pinched, half-starved look when first we noticed him. often i have seen him on the cold winter evenings singing about the streets for alms, and thankfully receiving a few pieces of broken bread and meat at the doors of the citizens; for he was never a bold and impudent beggar as some of the scholars are. our acquaintance with him, however, began one day which i remember well. i was at aunt ursula's house, which is in george street, near the church and school. i had watched the choir of boys singing from door to door through the street. no one had given them anything: they looked disappointed and hungry. at last they stopped before the window where aunt ursula and i were sitting with her little boy. that clear, high, ringing voice was there again. aunt ursula went to the door and called martin in, and then she went herself to the kitchen, and after giving him a good meal himself, sent him away with his wallet full, and told him to come again very soon. after that, i suppose she consulted with cousin conrad cotta, and the result was that martin luther became an inmate of their house, and has lived among us familiarly since then like one of our own cousins. he is wonderfully changed since that day. scarcely any one would have thought then what a joyous nature his is. the only thing in which it seemed then to flow out was in his clear true voice. he was subdued and timid like a creature that had been brought up without love. especially he used to be shy with young maidens, and seemed afraid to look in a woman's face. i think they must have been very severe with him at home. indeed, he confessed to fritz, that he had often as a child been beaten till the blood came for trifling offences, such as taking a nut, and that he was afraid to play in his parents' presence. and yet he would not hear a word reflecting on his parents. he says his mother is the most pious woman in mansfeld, where his family live, and his father denies himself in every way to maintain and educate his children, especially martin, who is to be the learned man of the family. his parents are inured to hardships themselves, and believe it to be the best early discipline for boys. certainly poor martin had enough of hardship here. but that may be the fault of his mother's relations at eisenach, who, they hoped, would have been kind to him, but who do not seem to have cared for him at all. at one time he told fritz he was so pinched and discouraged by the extreme poverty he suffered, that he thought of giving up study in despair, and returning to mansfeld to work with his father at the smelting furnaces, or in the mines under the mountains. yet indignant tears start to his eyes if any one ventures to hint that his father might have done more for him. he was a poor digger in the mines, he told fritz, and often he had seen his mother carrying firewood on her shoulders from the pine-woods near mansfeld. but it was in the monastic schools, no doubt, that he learned to be so shy and grave. he had been taught to look on married life as a low and evil thing; and, of course, we all know it cannot be so high and pure as the life in the convent. i remember now his look of wonder when aunt ursula, who is not fond of monks, said to him one day, "there is nothing on earth more lovely than the love of husband and wife, when it is in the fear of god." in the warmth of her bright and sunny heart, his whole nature seemed to open like the flowers in summer. and now there is none in all our circle so popular and sociable as he is. he plays on the lute, and sings as we think no one else can. and our children all love him, he tells them such strange, beautiful stories about enchanted gardens and crusaders, and about his own childhood, among the pine-forests and the mines. it is from martin luther, indeed, that i have heard more than from any one else, except from our grandmother, of the great world beyond eisenach. he has lived already in three other towns, so that he is quite a traveller, and knows a great deal of the world, although he is not yet twenty. our father has certainly told us wonderful things about the great islands beyond the seas which the admiral columbus discovered, and which will one day, he is sure, be found to be only the other side of the indies and tokay and araby. already the spaniards have found gold in those islands, and our father has little doubt that they are the ophir from which king solomon's ships brought the gold for the temple. also, he has told us about the strange lands in the south, in africa, where the dwarfs live, and the black giants, and the great hairy men who climb the trees and make nests there, and the dreadful men-eaters, and the people who have their heads between their shoulders. but we have not yet met with any one who have seen all those wonders, so that martin luther and our grandmother are the greatest travellers fritz and i are acquainted with. martin was born at eisleben. his mother's is a burgher family. three of her brothers live here at eisenach, and here she was married. but his father came of a peasant race. his grandfather had a little farm of his own at mora, among the thuringian pine-forests; but martin's father was the second son; their little property went to the eldest, and he became a miner, went to eisleben, and then settled at mansfeld, near the hartz mountains where the silver and copper lie buried in the earth. at mansfeld martin lived until he was nineteen. i should like to see the place. it must be so strange to watch the great furnaces, where they fuse the copper and smelt the precious silver, gleaming through the pine woods, for they burn all through the night in the clearings of the forest. when martin was a little boy he may have watched by them with his father, who now has furnaces and a foundry of his own. then there are the deep pits under the hills, out of which come from time to time troops of grim-looking miners. martin is fond of the miners; they are such a brave and hardy race, and they have fine bold songs and choruses of their own which he can sing, and wild original pastimes. chess is a favorite game with them. they are thoughtful too, as men may well be who dive into the secrets of the earth. martin, when a boy, has often gone into the dark, mysterious pits and winding caverns with them, and seen the veins of precious ore. he has also often seen foreigners of various nations. they come from all parts of the world to mansfeld for the silver,--from bavaria and switzerland, and even from the beautiful venice, which is a city of palaces, where the streets are canals filled by the blue sea, and instead of waggons they use boats, from which people land on the marble steps of the palaces. all these things martin has heard described by those who have really seen them, besides what he has seen himself. his father also frequently used to have the schoolmasters and learned men at his house, that his sons might profit by their wise conversation. but i doubt if he can have enjoyed this so much. it must have been difficult to forget the rod with which once he was beaten fourteen times in one morning, so as to feel sufficiently at ease to enjoy their conversation. old count gunther of mansfeld thinks much of martin's father, and often used to send for him to consult him about the mines. their house at mansfeld stood at some distance from the school-house which was on the hill, so that, when he was little, an older boy used to be kind to him, and carry him in his arms to school. i daresay that was in winter, when his little feet were swollen with chilblains, and his poor mother used to go up to the woods to gather faggots for the hearth. his mother must be a very good and holy woman, but not, i fancy, quite like our mother; rather more like aunt agnes. i think i should have been rather afraid of her. martin says she is very religious. he honours and loves her very much, although she was very strict with him, and once, he told fritz, beat him, for taking a nut from their stores, until the blood came. she must be a brave, truthful woman, who would not spare herself or others; but i think i should have felt more at home with his father, who used so often to kneel beside martin's bed at night, and pray god to make him a good and useful man. martin's father, however, does not seem so fond of the monks and nuns, and is therefore, i suppose, not so religious as his mother is. he does not at all wish martin to become a priest or a monk, but to be a great lawyer, or doctor, or professor at some university. mansfeld, however, is a very holy place. there are many monasteries and nunneries there, and in one of them two of the countesses were nuns. there is also a castle there, and our st. elizabeth worked miracles there as well as here. the devil also is not idle at mansfeld. a wicked old witch lived close to martin's house, and used to frighten and distress his mother much, bewitching the children so that they nearly cried themselves to death. once even, it is said, the devil himself got up into the pulpit, and preached, of course in disguise. but in all the legends it is the same. the devil never seems so busy as where the saints are, which is another reason why i feel how difficult it would be to be religious. martin had a sweet voice, and loved music as a child, and he used often to sing at people's doors as he did here. once, at christmas time, he was singing carols from village to village among the woods with other boys, when a peasant came to the door of his hut, where they were singing, and said in a loud gruff voice, "where are you, boys?" the children were so frightened that they scampered away as fast as they could, and only found out afterwards that the man with a rough voice had a kind heart, and had brought them out some sausages. poor martin was used to blows in those days, and had good reason to dread them. it must have been pleasant, however, to hear the boys' voices carolling through the woods about jesus born at bethlehem. voices echo so strangely among the silent pine-forests. when martin was thirteen he left mansfeld and went to magdeburg, where the archbishop ernest lives, the brother of our elector, who has a beautiful palace, and twelve trumpeters to play to him always when he is at dinner. magdeburg must be a magnificent city, very nearly, we think, as grand as rome itself. there is a great cathedral there, and knights and princes and many soldiers, who prance about the streets; and tournaments and splendid festivals. but our martin heard more than he saw of all this. he and john reineck of mansfeld (a boy older than himself, who is one of his greatest friends), went to the school of the franciscan cloister, and had to spend their time with the monks, or sing about the streets for bread, or in the church-yard when the franciscans in their grey robes went there to fulfill their office of burying the dead. but it was not for him, the miner's son, to complain, when, as he says, he used to see a prince of anhalt going about the streets in a cowl begging bread, with a sack on his shoulders like a beast of burden, insomuch that he was bowed to the ground. the poor prince, martin said, had fasted and watched and mortified his flesh until he looked like an image of death, with only skin and bones. indeed, shortly after he died. at magdeburg also, martin saw the picture of which he has often told us. "a great ship was painted, meant to signify the church, wherein there was no layman, not even a king or prince. there were none but the pope with his cardinals and bishops in the prow, with the holy ghost hovering over them, the priests and monks with their oars at the side; and thus they were sailing on heavenward. the laymen were swimming along in the water around the ship. some of them were drowning; some were drawing themselves up to the ship by means of ropes, which the monks, moved with pity, and making over their own good works, did cast out to them to keep them from drowning, and to enable them to cleave to the vessel and to go with the others to heaven. there was no pope, nor cardinal, nor bishop, nor priest, nor monk in the water, but laymen only." it must have been a very dreadful picture, and enough to make any one afraid of not being religious, or else to make one feel how useless it is for any one except the monks and nuns, to try to be religious at all. because however little merit any one had acquired, some kind monk might still be found to throw a rope out of the ship and help him in; and, however many good works any layman might do, they would be of no avail to help him out of the flood, or even to keep him from drowning, unless he had some friends in a cloister. i said martin was merry; and so he is, with the children, or when he is cheered with music or singing. and yet, on the whole, i think he is rather grave, and often he looks very thoughtful, and even melancholy. his merriment does not seem to be so much from carelessness as from earnestness of heart, so that whether he is telling a story to the little ones, or singing a lively song, his whole heart is in it,--in his play as well as in his work. in his studies fritz says there is no one at eisenach who can come near him, whether in reciting, or writing prose or verse, or translating, or church music. master trebonius, the head of st. george's school, is a very learned man and very polite. he takes off his hat, fritz says, and bows to his scholars when he enters the school, for he says that "among these boys are future burgomasters, chancellors, doctors, and magistrates." this must be very different from the masters at mansfeld. master trebonius thinks very much of martin. i wonder if he and fritz will be burgomasters or doctors one day. martin is certainly very religious for a boy, and so is fritz. they attend mass very regularly, and confession, and keep the fasts. from what i have heard martin say, however, i think he is as much afraid of god and christ and the dreadful day of wrath and judgment as i am. indeed i am sure he feels, as every one must, there would be no hope for us were it not for the blessed mother of god who may remind her son how she nursed and cared for him, and move him to have some pity. but martin has been at the university of erfurt nearly two years, and fritz has now left us to study there with him; and we shall have no more music, and the children no more stories until no one knows when. * * * * * these are the people i know. i have nothing else to say except about the things i possess, and the place we live in. the things are easily described. i have a silver reliquary, with a lock of the hair of st. elizabeth in it. that is my greatest treasure. i have a black rosary with a large iron cross which aunt agnes gave me. i have a missal, and part of a volume of the nibelungen lied; and besides my every-day dress, a black taffetas jacket and a crimson stuff petticoat, and two gold ear-rings, and a silver chain for holidays, which aunt ursula gave me. fritz and i between us have also a copy of some old latin hymns, with woodcuts, printed at nürnberg. and in the garden i have two rose bushes; and i have a wooden crucifix carved in rome out of wood which came from bethlehem, and in a leather purse one gulden my godmother gave me at my christening; and that is all. the place we live in is eisenach, and i think it a beautiful place. but never having seen any other town, perhaps i cannot very well judge. there are nine monasteries and nunneries here, many of them founded by st. elizabeth. and there are i do not know how many priests. in the churches are some beautiful pictures of the sufferings and glory of the saints; and painted windows, and on the altars gorgeous gold and silver plate, and a great many wonderful relics which we go to adore on the great saint's days. the town is in a valley, and high above the houses rises the hill on which stands the wartburg, the castle where st. elizabeth lived. i went inside it once with our father to take some books to the elector. the rooms were beautifully furnished with carpets and velvet-covered chairs. a lady dressed in silk and jewels, like st. elizabeth in the pictures, gave me sweetmeats. but the castle seemed to me dark and gloomy. i wondered which was the room in which the proud mother of the landgrave lived, who was so discourteous to st. elizabeth when she came a young maiden from her royal home far away in hungary; and which was the cold wall against which she pressed her burning brow, when she rushed through the castle in despair on hearing suddenly of the death of her husband. i was glad to escape into the free forest again, for all around the castle, and over all the hills, as far as we can see around eisenach, it is forest. the tall dark pine woods clothe the hills; but in the valleys the meadows are very green beside the streams. it is better in the valleys among the wild flowers than in that stern old castle, and i did not wonder so much after being there that st. elizabeth built herself a hut in a lowly valley among the woods, and preferred to live and die there. it is beautiful in summer in the meadows, at the edge of the pine woods, when the sun brings out the delicious aromatic perfume of the pines, and the birds sing, and the rooks caw. i like it better than the incense in st. george's church, and almost better than the singing of the choir, and certainly better than the sermons which are so often about the dreadful fires and the judgment-day, or the confessional where they give us such hard penances. the lambs, and the birds, and even the insects, seem so happy, each with its own little bleat, or warble, or coo, or buzz of content. it almost seems then as if mary, the dear mother of god, were governing the world instead of christ, the judge, or the almighty with the thunders. every creature seems so blithe and so tenderly cared for i cannot help feeling better there than at church. but that is because i have so little religion. ii. extracts from friedrich's chronicle. erfurt, . at last i stand on the threshold of the world i have so long desired to enter. elsè's world is mine no longer; and yet, never until this week did i feel how dear that little home-world is to me. indeed, heaven forbid i should have left it finally. i look forward to returning to it again, nevermore, however, as a burden on our parents, but as their stay and support, to set our mother free from the cares which are slowly eating her precious life away, to set our father free to pursue his great projects, and to make our little elsè as much a lady as any of the noble baronesses our grandmother tells us of. although, indeed, as it is, when she walks beside me to church on holidays, in her crimson dress, with her round, neat, little figure in the black jacket with the white stomacher, and the silver chains, her fair hair so neatly braided, and her blue eyes so full of sunshine,--who can look better than elsè? and i can see i am not the only one in eisenach who thinks so. i would only wish to make all the days holidays for her, and that it should not be necessary when the festival is over for my little sister to lay aside all her finery so carefully in the great chest, and put on her aschputtel garments again, so that if the fairy prince we used to talk of, were to come, he would scarcely recognise the fair little princess he had seen at church. and yet no fairy prince need be ashamed of our elsè even in her working, every-day clothes;--he certainly would not be the right one if he were. in the twilight, when the day's work is done, and the children are asleep, and she comes and sits beside me with her knitting in the lumber-room or under the pear tree in the garden, what princess could look fresher or neater than elsè, with her smooth fair hair braided like a coronet? who would think that she had been toiling all day, cooking, washing, nursing the children. except, indeed, because of the healthy colour her active life gives her face, and for that sweet low voice of hers, which i think women learn best by the cradles of little children. i suppose it is because i have never yet seen any maiden to compare to our elsè that i have not yet fallen in love. and, nevertheless, it is not of such a face as elsè's i dream, when dreams come, or even exactly such as my mother's. my mother's eyes are dimmed with many cares; is it not that very worn and faded brow that makes her sacred to me? more sacred than any saintly halo! and elsè, good, practical little elsè, she is a dear household fairy; but the face i dream of has another look in it. elsè's eyes are good, as she says, for seeing and helping; and sweet, indeed, they are for loving--dear, kind, true eyes. but the eyes i dream of have another look, a fire like our grandmother's, as if from a southern sun; dim, dreamy, far-seeing glances, burning into the hearts, like the ladies in the romances, and yet piercing into heaven, like st. cecilia's when she stands entranced by her organ. she should be a saint, at whose feet i might sit and look through her pure heart into heaven, and yet she should love me wholly, passionately, fearlessly, devotedly, as if her heaven were all in my love. my love! and who am i that i should have such dreams? a poor burgher lad of eisenach, a penniless student of a week's standing at erfurt! the eldest son of a large destitute family, who must not dare to think of loving the most perfect maiden, in the world, when i meet her, until i have rescued a father, mother, and six brothers and sisters from the jaws of biting poverty. and even in a dream it seems almost a treachery to put any creature above elsè. i fancy i see her kind blue eyes filling with reproachful tears. for there is no doubt that in elsè's heart i have no rival, even in a dream. poor, loving, little elsè! yes, she must be rescued from the pressure of those daily fretting cares of penury and hope deferred, which have made our mother old so early. if i had been in the father's place, i could never have borne to see winter creeping so soon over the summer of her life. but he does not see it. or if for a moment her pale face and the grey hairs which begin to come seem to trouble him, he kisses her forehead, and says, "little mother, it will soon be over; there is nothing wanting now but the last link to make this last invention perfect, and then--" and then he goes into his printing-room; but to this day the missing link has never been found. elsè and our mother, however, always believe it will turn up some day. our grandmother has doubts. and i have scarcely any hope at all, although, for all the world, i would not breathe this to any one at home. to me that laboratory of my father's, with its furnace, its models, its strange machines, is the most melancholy place in the world. it is like a haunted chamber,--haunted with the helpless, nameless ghosts of infants that have died at their birth,--the ghosts of vain and fruitless projects; like the ruins of a city that some earthquake had destroyed before it was finished, ruined palaces that were never roofed, ruined houses that were never inhabited, ruined churches that were never worshipped in. the saints forbid that my life should be like that! and yet what it is which has made him so unsuccessful, i can never exactly make out. he is no dreamer. he is no idler. he does not sit lazily down with folded arms and imagine his projects. he makes his calculations with the most laborious accuracy; he consults all the learned men and books he has access to. he weighs, and measures, and constructs the neatest models possible. his room is a museum of exquisite models, which seem as if they must answer, and yet never do. the professors, and even the elector's secretary, who has come more than once to consult him, have told me he is a man of remarkable genius. what can it be, then, that makes his life such a failure? i cannot think; unless it is that other great inventors and discoverers seem to have made their discoveries and inventions as it were _by the way_, in the course of their every-day life. as a seaman sails on his appointed voyage to some definite port, he notices drift-wood or weeds which must have come from unknown lands beyond the seas. as he sails in his calling from port to port, the thought is always in his mind; everything he hears groups itself naturally around this thought; he observes the winds and currents; he collects information from mariners who have been driven out of their course, in the direction where he believes this unknown land to lie. and at length he persuades some prince that his belief is no mere dream, and like the great admiral christopher columbus, he ventures across the trackless unknown atlantic and discovers the western indies. but before he was a discoverer, he was a mariner. or some engraver of woodcuts thinks of applying his carved blocks to letters, and the printing-press is invented. but it is in his calling. he has not gone out of his way to hunt for inventions. he has found them in his path, the path of his daily calling. it seems to me people do not become great, do not become discoverers and inventors by trying to be so, but by determining to do in the very best way what they have to do. thus improvements suggest themselves, one by one, step by step; each improvement is tested as it is made by practical use, until at length the happy thought comes, not like an elf from the wild forest, but like an angel on the daily path; and the little improvements become the great invention. there is another great advantage, moreover, in this method over our father's. if the invention never comes, at all events we have the improvements, which are worth something. every one cannot invent the printing-press or discover the new indies; but every engraver may make his engravings a little better, and every mariner may explore a little further than his predecessors. yet it seems almost like treason to write thus of our father. what would elsè or our mother think, who believe there is nothing but accident or the blindness of mankind between us and greatness? not that they have learned to think thus from our father. never in my life did i hear him say a grudging or depreciating word of any of those who have most succeeded where he has failed. he seems to look on all such men as part of a great brotherhood, and to rejoice in another man hitting the point which he missed, just as he would rejoice in himself succeeding in something to-day which he failed in yesterday. it is this nobleness of character which makes me reverence him more than any mere successes could. it is because i fear, that in a life of such disappointments my character would not prove so generous, but that failure would sour my temper and penury degrade my spirit as they never have his, that i have ventured to search for the rocks on which he made shipwreck, in order to avoid them. all men cannot return wrecked, and tattered, and destitute from an unsuccessful voyage, with a heart as hopeful, a temper as generous, a spirit as free from envy and detraction, as if they brought the golden fleece with them. our father does this again and again; and therefore i trust his argosies are laid up for him as for those who follow the rules of evangelical perfection, where neither moth nor rust can corrupt. i could not. i would never return until i could bring what i had sought, or i should return a miserable man, shipwrecked in heart as well as in fortune. and therefore i must examine my charts, and choose my port and my vessel carefully, before i sail. all these thoughts came into my mind as i stood on the last height of the forest, from which i could look back on eisenach, nestling in the valley under the shadow of the wartburg. may the dear mother of god, st. elizabeth, and all the saints, defend it evermore! but there was not much time to linger for a last view of eisenach. the winter days were short; some snow had fallen in the previous night. the roofs of the houses in eisenach were white with it, and the carvings of spire and tower seemed inlaid with alabaster. a thin covering lay on the meadows and hill-sides, and light feather-work frosted the pines. i had nearly thirty miles to walk through forest and plain before i reached erfurt. the day was as bright and the air as light as my heart. the shadows of the pines lay across the frozen snow, over which my feet crunched cheerily. in the clearings, the outline of the black twigs were pencilled dark and clear against the light blue of the winter sky. every outline was clear, and crisp, and definite, as i resolved my own aims in life should be. i knew my purposes were pure and high, and i felt as if heaven must prosper me. but as the day wore on, i began to wonder when the forest would end, until, as the sun sank lower and lower, i feared i must have missed my way; and at last as i climbed a height to make a survey, to my dismay it was too evident i had taken the wrong turning in the snow. wide reaches of the forest lay all around me, one pine-covered hill folding over another; and only in one distant opening could i get a glimpse of the level land beyond, where i knew erfurt must lie. the daylight was fast departing; my wallet was empty. i knew there were villages hidden in the valleys here and there; but not a wreath of smoke could i see, nor any sign of man, except here and there faggots piled in some recent clearing. towards one of these clearings i directed my steps, intending to follow the wood-cutters' track, which i thought would probably lead me to the hut of some charcoal burner, where i might find fire and shelter. before i reached this spot, however, night had set in. the snow began to fall again, and it seemed too great a risk to leave the broader path to follow any unknown track. i resolved, therefore, to make the best of my circumstances. they were not unendurable. i had a flint and tinder, and gathering some dry wood and twigs, i contrived with some difficulty to light a fire. cold and hungry i certainly was, but for this i cared little. it was only an extra fast, and it seemed to me quite natural that my journey of life should commence with difficulty and danger. it was always so in legend of the saints, romance, or elfin tale, or when anything great was to be done. but in the night, as the wind howled through the countless stems of the pines, not with the soft varieties of sound it makes amidst the summer oak-woods, but with a long monotonous wail like a dirge, a tumult awoke in my heart such as i had never known before. i knew these forests were infested by robber-bands, and i could hear in the distance the baying and howling of the wolves; but it was not fear which tossed my thoughts so wildly to and fro, at least not fear of bodily harm. i thought of all the stories of wild huntsmen, of wretched guilty men, hunted by packs of fiends; and the stories which had excited a wild delight in elsè and me, as our grandmother told them by the fire at home, now seemed to freeze my soul with horror. for was not i a guilty creature, and were not the devils indeed too really around me?--and what was to prevent their possessing me? who in all the universe was on my side? could i look up with confidence to god? he loves only the holy. or to christ? he is the judge; and more terrible than any cries of legions of devils will it be to the sinner to hear his voice from the awful snow-white throne of judgment. then, my sins rose before me--my neglected prayers, penances imperfectly performed, incomplete confessions. even that morning, had i not been full of proud and ambitious thoughts--even perhaps vainly comparing myself with my good father, and picturing myself as conquering and enjoying all kinds of worldly delights? it was true, it could hardly be a sin to wish to save my family from penury and care; but it was certainly a sin to be ambitious of worldly distinction, as father christopher had so often told me. then, how difficult to separate the two? where did duty end, and ambition and pride begin? i determined to find a confessor as soon as i reached erfurt, if ever i reached it. and yet, what could even the wisest confessor do for me in such difficulties? how could i ever be sure that i had not deceived myself in examining my motives, and then deceived him, and thus obtained an absolution on false pretences, which could avail me nothing? and if this might be so with future confessions, why not with all past ones? the thought was horror to me, and seemed to open a fathomless abyss of misery yawning under my feet. i could no more discover a track out of my miserable perplexities than out of the forest. for if these apprehensions had any ground, not only the sins i had failed to confess were unpardoned, but the sins i had confessed and obtained absolution for on false grounds. thus it might be that at that moment my soul stood utterly unsheltered, as my body from the snows, exposed to the wrath of god, the judgment of christ, and the exulting cruelty of devils. it seemed as if only one thing could save me, and that could never be had. if i could find an infallible confessor, who could see down into the depth of my heart, and back into every recess of my life, who could unveil me to myself, penetrate all my motives, and assign me the penances i really deserved, i would travel to the end of the world to find him. the severest penances he could assign, after searching the lives of all the holy eremites and martyrs, for examples of mortification, it seemed to me would be light indeed, if i could only be sure they were the right penances and would be followed by a true absolution. but this it was, indeed, impossible i could ever find. what sure hope then could i ever have of pardon or remission of sins? what voice of priest or monk, the holiest on earth, could ever assure me i had been honest with myself? what absolution could ever give me a right to believe that the baptismal robes, soiled as they told me "before i had left off my infant socks," could once more be made white and clean? then, for the first time in my life the thought flashed on me, of the monastic vows, the cloister and the cowl. i knew there was a virtue in the monastic profession which many said was equal to a second baptism. could it be possible that the end of all my aspirations might after all be the monk's frock? what then would become of father and mother, dear elsè, and the little ones? the thought of their dear faces seemed for an instant to drive away these gloomy fears, as they say a hearth-fire keeps off the wolves. but then a hollow voice seemed to whisper, "if god is against you, and the saints, and your conscience, what help can you render your family or any one else?" the conflict seemed more than i could bear. it was so impossible to me to make out which suggestions were from the devil and which from god, and which from my own sinful heart; and yet it might be the unpardonable sin to confound them. wherefore for the rest of the night i tried not to think at all, but paced up and down reciting the ten commandments, the creed, the paternoster, the ave maria, the litanies of the saints, and all the collects and holy ejaculations i could think of. by degrees this seemed to calm me, especially the creeds and the paternoster, whether because these are spells the fiends especially dread, or because there is something so comforting in the mere words, "our father," and "the remission of sins," i do not know. probably for both reasons. and so the morning dawned, and the low sunbeams slanted up through the red stems of the pines; and i said the ave maria, and thought of the sweet mother of god, and was a little cheered. but all the next day i could not recover from the terrors of that solitary night. a shadow seemed to have fallen on my hopes and projects. how could i tell that all which had seemed most holy to me as an object in life might not be temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil; and that with all my labouring for my dear ones at home, my sins might not bring on them more troubles than all my successes could avert? as i left the shadow of the forest, however, my heart seemed to grow lighter. i shall always henceforth feel sure that the wildest legends of the forests may be true, and that the fiends have especial haunts among the solitary woods at night. it was pleasant to see the towers of erfurt rising before me on the plain. i had only one friend at the university; but that is martin luther, and he is a host in himself to me. he is already distinguished among the students here; and the professors expect great things of him. he is especially studying jurisprudence, because his father wishes him to be a great lawyer. this also is to be my profession, and his counsel, always so heartily given, is of the greatest use to me. his life is, indeed, changed since we first knew him at eisenach, when aunt ursula took compassion on him, a destitute scholar, singing at the doors of the houses in st. george street for a piece of bread. his father's hard struggles to maintain and raise his family have succeeded at last; he is now the owner of a foundry and some smelting-furnaces, and supports martin liberally at the university. the icy morning of martin's struggles seems over, and all is bright before him. erfurt is the first university in germany. compared with it, as martin luther says, the other universities are mere private academies. at present we have from a thousand to thirteen hundred students. some of our professors have studied the classics in italy, under the descendents of the ancient greeks and romans. the elector frederic has, indeed, lately founded a new university at wittemberg, but we at erfurt have little fear of wittemberg outstripping our ancient institution. the humanists, or disciples of the ancient heathen learning, are in great force here, with mutianus rufus at their head. they meet often, especially at his house, and he gives them subjects for latin versification, such as the praises of poverty. martin luther's friend spalatin joined these assemblies; but he himself does not, at least not as a member. indeed, strange things are reported of their converse, which make the names of poet and philosopher in which they delight very much suspected in orthodox circles. these ideas mutianus and his friends are said to have imported with the classical literature from italy. he has even declared and written in a letter to a friend, that "there is but one god, and one goddess, although under various forms and various names, as jupiter, sol, apollo, moses, christ; luna, ceres, proserpine, tellus, mary." but these things he warns his disciples not to speak of in public. "they must be veiled in silence," he says, "like the eleusinian mysteries. in the affairs of religion we must make use of the mask of fables and enigmas. let us by the grace of jupiter, that is of the best and highest god, despise the lesser gods. when i say jupiter, i mean christ and the true god." mutianus and his friends also in their intimate circles speak most slightingly of the church ceremonies, calling the mass a comedy, and the holy relics ravens' bones;[ ] speaking of the service of the altar as so much lost time: and stigmatizing the prayers at the canonical hours as a mere baying of hounds, or the humming, not of busy bees, but of lazy drones. if you reproached them with such irreverent sayings, they would probably reply that they had only uttered them in an esoteric sense, and meant nothing by them. but when people deem it right thus to mask their truths, and explain away their errors, it is difficult to distinguish which is the mask and which the reality in their estimation. it seems to me also that they make mere intellectual games or exercises out of the most profound and awful questions. [footnote : that is, skeletons left on the gallows for the ravens to peck at.] this probably, more than the daring character of their speculations, deters martin luther from numbering himself among them. his nature is so reverent in spite of all the courage of his character. i think he would dare or suffer anything for what he believed true; but he cannot bear to have the poorest fragment of what he holds sacred trifled with or played with as a mere feat of intellectual gymnastics. his chief attention is at present directed, by his father's especial desire, to roman literature and law, and to the study of the allegories and philosophy of aristotle. he likes to have to do with what is true and solid; poetry and music are his delight and recreation. but it is in debate he most excels. a few evenings since, he introduced me to a society of students, where questions new and old are debated and it was glorious to see how our martin carried off the palm; sometimes swooping down on his opponents like an eagle among a flock of small birds, or setting down his great lion's paw and quietly crushing a host of objections, apparently unaware of the mischief he had done, until some feeble wail of the prostrate foe made him sensible of it, and he withdrew with a good-humored apology for having hurt any one's feelings. at other times he withers an unfair argument or a confused statement to a cinder by some lightning-flash of humor or satire. i do not think he is often perplexed by seeing too much of the other side of a disputed question. he holds the one truth he is contending for, and he sees the one point he is aiming at, and at that he charges with a force compounded of the ponderous weight of his will, and the electric velocity of his thoughts, crushing whatever comes in his way, scattering whatever escapes right and left, and never heeding how the scattered forces may reunite and form in his rear. he knows that if he only turns on them, in a moment they will disperse again. i cannot quite tell how this style of warfare would answer for an advocate, who had to make the best of any cause he is engaged to plead. i cannot fancy martin luther quietly collecting the arguments from the worst side, to the end that even the worst side may have fair play; which is, i suppose, often the office of an advocate. no doubt, however, he will find or make his calling in the world. the professors and learned men have the most brilliant expectations as to his career. and what is rare (they say), he seems as much the favorite of the students as of the professors. his nature is so social; his musical abilities and his wonderful powers of conversation make him popular with all. and yet, underneath it all, we who know him well can detect at times that tide of thoughtful melancholy, which seems to lie at the bottom of all hearts which have looked deeply into themselves or into life. he is as attentive as ever to religion, never missing the daily mass. but in our private conversations, i see that his conscience is anything but at ease. has he passed through conflicts such as mine in the forest on that terrible night? perhaps through conflicts as much fiercer and more terrible, as his character is stronger and his mind deeper than mine. but who can tell? what is the use of unfolding perplexities to each other, which it seems no intellect on earth can solve? the inmost recesses of the heart must always, i suppose, be a solitude, like that dark and awful sanctuary within the veil of the old jewish temple, entered only once a year, and faintly illumined by the light without, through the thick folds of the sacred veil. if only that solitude were indeed a holy of holies--or, being what it is, if we only need enter it once a year, and not carry about the consciousness of its dark secrets with us everywhere. but, alas! once entered we can never forget it. it is like the chill, dark crypts underneath our churches, where the masses for the dead are celebrated, and where in some monastic churches the embalmed corpses lie shrivelled to mummies, and visible through gratings. through all the joyous festivals of the holidays above, the consciousness of those dark chambers of death below seems to creep up; like the damps of the vaults through the incense, like the muffled wail of the dirges through the songs of praise. erfurt, _april_, . we are just returned from an expedition which might have proved fatal to martin luther. early in the morning, three days since, we started to walk to mansfeld on a visit to his family, our hearts as full of hope as the woods were full of song. we were armed with swords; our wallets were full; and spirits light as the air. our way was to lie through field and forest, and then along the banks of the river holme, through the golden meadow where are so many noble cloisters and imperial palaces. but we had scarcely been on our way an hour when martin, by some accident, ran his sword into his foot. to my dismay the blood gushed out in a stream. he had cut into a main artery. i left him under the care of some peasants, and ran back to erfurt for a physician. when he arrived, however, there was great difficulty in closing the wound with bandages. i longed for elsè or our mother's skillful fingers. we contrived to carry him back to the city. i sat up to watch with him. but in the middle of the night his wound burst out bleeding afresh. the danger was very great, and martin himself giving up hope, and believing death was close at hand, committed his soul to the blessed mother of god. merciful and pitiful, knowing sorrow, yet raised glorious above all sorrow, with a mother's heart for all, and a mother's claim on him who is the judge of all, where indeed can we so safely flee for refuge as to mary? it was edifying to see martin's devotion to her, and no doubt it was greatly owing to this that at length the remedies succeeded, the bandages closed the wound again, and the blood was stanched. many an ave will i say for this to the sweet mother of mercy. perchance she may also have pity on me. o sweetest lady, "eternal daughter of the eternal father, heart of the indivisible trinity," thou seest my desire to help my own careworn mother; aid me, and have mercy on me, thy sinful child. erfurt, _june_, . martin luther has taken his first degree. he is a fervent student, earnest in this as in everything. cicero and virgil are his great companions among the latins. he is now raised quite above the pressing cares of penury, and will probably never taste them more. his father is now a prosperous burgher of mansfeld, and on the way to become burgomaster. i wish the prospects at my home were as cheering. a few years less of pinching poverty for myself seems to matter little, but the cares of our mother and elsè weigh on me often heavily. it must be long yet before i can help them effectually, and meantime the bright youth of my little elsè, and the very life of our toilworn patient mother, will be wearing away. for myself i can fully enter into what martin says, "the young should learn especially to endure suffering and want; for such suffering doth them no harm. it doth more harm for one to prosper without toil than it doth to endure suffering." he says also, "it is god's way, of beggars to make men of power, just as he made the world out of nothing. look upon the courts of kings and princes, upon cities and parishes. you will there find jurists, doctors, councillors, secretaries, and preachers who were commonly poor, and always such as have been students, and have risen and flown so high through the quill that they are become lords." but the way to wealth through the quill seems long; and lives so precious to me are being worn out meantime, while i climb to the point where i could help them! sometimes i wish i had chosen the calling of a merchant, men seem to prosper so much more rapidly through trade than through study; and nothing on earth seems to me so well worth working for as to lift the load from their hearts at home. but it is too late. rolling stones gather no moss. i must go on now in the track i have chosen. only sometimes again the fear which came over me on that night in the forest. it seems as if heaven were against me, and that it is vain presumption for such as i even to hope to benefit any one. partly, no doubt, it is the depression, caused by poor living, which brings these thoughts. martin luther said so to me one day when he found me desponding. he said he knew so well what it was. he had suffered so much from penury at magdeburg, and at eisenach had even seriously thought of giving up study altogether and returning to his father's calling. he is kind to me and to all who need, but his means do not yet allow him to do more than maintain himself. or rather, they are not his but his father's, and he feels he has no right to be generous at the expense of his father's self-denial and toil. i find life looks different, i must say, after a good meal. but then i cannot get rid of the thought of the few such meals they have at home. not that elsè writes gloomily. she never mentions a thing to sadden me. and this week she sent me a gulden, which she said belonged to her alone, and she had vowed never to use unless i would take it. but a student who saw them lately said our mother looked wan and ill. and to increase their difficulties, a month since the father received into the house a little orphan girl, a cousin of our mother's, called eva von schönberg. heaven forbid that i should grudge the orphan her crust, but when it makes a crust less for the mother and the little ones, it is difficult to rejoice in such an act of charity. erfurt, _july_, . i have just obtained a nomination on a foundation, which will, i hope, for the present at least, prevent my being any burden on my family for my own maintenance. the rules are very strict, and they are enforced with many awful vows and oaths which trouble my conscience not a little, because, if the least detail of these rules to which i have sworn is even inadvertently omitted, i involve myself in the guilt of perjury. however, it is a step onward in the way to independence; and a far heavier yoke might well be borne with such an object. we (the beneficiaries on this foundation) have solemnly vowed to observe the seven canonical hours, never omitting the prayers belonging to each. this insures early rising, which is a good thing for a student. the most difficult to keep is the midnight hour, after a day of hard study; but it is no more than soldiers on duty have continually to go through. we have also to chant the _miserere_ at funerals, and frequently to hear the eulogy of the blessed virgin mary. this last can certainly not be called a hardship, least of all to me who desire ever henceforth to have an especial devotion to our lady, to recite daily the rosary, commemorating the joys of mary, the salutation, the journey across the mountains, the birth without pain, the finding of jesus in the temple, and the ascension. it is only the vows which make it rather a bondage. but, indeed, in spite of all, it is a great boon. i can conscientiously write to elsè now, that i shall not need another penny of their scanty store, and can even, by the next opportunity, return what she sent, which, happily, i have not yet touched. _august_, . martin luther is very dangerously ill; many of the professors and students are in great anxiety about him. he has so many friends; and no wonder! he is no cold friend himself, and all expect great honour to the university from his abilities. i scarcely dare to think what his loss would be to me. but this morning an aged priest who visited him inspired us with some hope. as martin lay, apparently in the last extremity, and himself expecting death, this old priest came to his bed-side, and said gently, but in a firm tone of conviction,-- "be of good comfort, my brother, you will not die at this time; god will yet make a great man of you, who shall comfort many others. whom god loveth and proposeth to make a blessing, upon him he early layeth the cross, and in that school, who patiently endure learn much." the words came with a strange kind of power, and i cannot help thinking that there is a little improvement in the patient since they were uttered. truly, good words are like food and medicine to body and soul. erfurt, _august_, . martin luther is recovered! the almighty, the blessed mother, and all the saints be praised. the good old priest's words have also brought some especial comfort to me. if it could only be possible that those troubles and cares which have weighed so heavily on elsè's early life and mine, are not the rod of anger, but the cross laid on those god loveth! but who can tell? for elsè, at least, i will try to believe this. the world is wide in these days, with the great new world opened by the spanish mariners beyond the atlantic, and the noble old world opened to students through the sacred fountains of the ancient classics, once more unsealed by the revived study of the ancient languages; and this new discovery of printing, which will, my father thinks, diffuse the newly unsealed fountains of ancient wisdom in countless channels among high and low. these are glorious times to live in. so much already unfolded to us! and who knows what beyond? for it seems as if the hearts of men everywhere were beating high with expectation; as if, in these days, nothing were too great to anticipate, or too good to believe. it is well to encounter our dragons at the threshold of life; instead of at the end of the race--at the threshold of death; therefore, i may well be content. in this wide and ever widening world, there must be some career for me and mine. what will it be? and what will martin luther's be? much is expected from him. famous every one at the university says he must be. on what field will he win his laurels? will they be laurels or palms? when i hear him in the debates of the students, all waiting for his opinions, and applauding his eloquent words, i see the laurel already among his black hair, wreathing his massive, homely forehead. but when i remember the debate which i know there is within him, the anxious fervency of his devotions, his struggle of conscience, his distress at any omission of duty, and watch the deep melancholy look which there is sometimes in his dark eyes, i think not of the tales of the heroes, but of the legends of the saints, and wonder in what victory over the old dragon he will win his palm. but the bells are sounding for compline, and i must not miss the sacred hour. iii. elsè's chronicle. eisenach, . i cannot say that things have prospered much with us since fritz left. the lumber-room itself is changed. the piles of old books are much reduced, because we have been obliged to pawn many of them for food. some even of the father's beautiful models have had to be sold. it went terribly to his heart. but it paid our debts. our grandmother has grown a little querulous at times lately. and i am so tempted to be cross sometimes. the boys eat so much and wear out their clothes so fast. indeed, i cannot see that poverty makes any of us better, except it be my mother, who needed improvement least of all. _september_, . the father has actually brought a new inmate into the house, a little girl, called eva von schönberg, a distant cousin of our mother. last week he told us she was coming, very abruptly. i think he was rather afraid of what our grandmother would say, for we all know it is not of the least use to come round her with soft speeches. she always sees what you are aiming at, and with her keen eyes cuts straight through all your circumlocutions, and obliges you to descend direct on your point, with more rapidity than grace. accordingly, he said, quite suddenly, one day at dinner,-- "i forgot to tell you, little mother, i have just had a letter from your relations in bohemia. your great-uncle is dead. his son, you know, died before him. a little orphan girl is left with no one to take care of her. i have desired them to send her to us. i could do no less. it was an act, not of charity, but of the plainest duty. and besides," he added, apologetically, "in the end it may make our fortunes. there is property somewhere in the family, if we could get it; and this little eva is the descendant of the eldest branch. indeed, i do not know but that she may bring many valuable family heirlooms with her." these last observations he addressed especially to my grandmother, hoping thereby to make it clear to her that the act was one of the deepest worldly wisdom. then turning to the mother, he concluded,-- "little mother, thou wilt find a place for the orphan in thy heart, and heaven will no doubt bless us for it." "no doubt about the room in my daughter's heart!" murmured our grandmother; "the question, as i read it, is not about hearts, but about larders and wardrobes. and, certainly," she added, not very pleasantly, "there is room enough there for any family jewels the young heiress may bring." as usual, the mother came to the rescue. "dear grandmother," she said, "heaven, no doubt, will repay us; and besides, you know, we may now venture on a little more expense, since we are out of debt." "there is no doubt, i suppose," retorted our grandmother, "about heaven repaying you; but there seems to me a good deal of doubt whether it will be in current coin." then, i suppose fearing the effect of so doubtful a sentiment on the children, she added rather querulously, but in a gentler tone,-- "let the little creature come. room may be made for her soon in one way or another. the old creep out at the church-yard gate, while the young bound in at the front door." and in a few days little eva came; but, unfortunately without the family jewels. but the saints forbid i should grow mercenary or miserly, and grudge the orphan her crust! and who could help welcoming little eva? as she lies on my bed asleep, with her golden hair on the pillow, and the long lashes shading her cheek, flushed with sleep and resting on her dimpled white hand, who could wish her away? and when i put out the lamp (as i must very soon) and lie down beside her, she will half awake, just to nestle into my heart, and murmur in her sleep, "sweet cousin elsè!" and i shall no more be able to wish her gone than my guardian angel. indeed i think she is something like one. she is not quite ten years old; but being an only child, and always brought up with older people, she has a quiet, considerate way, and a quaint, thoughtful gravity, which sits with a strange charm on her bright, innocent, child-like face. at first she seemed a little afraid of our children, especially the boys, and crept about everywhere by the side of my mother, to whom she gave her confidence from the beginning. she did not so immediately take to our grandmother, who was not very warm in her reception; but the second evening after her arrival, she deliberately took her little stool up to our grandmother's side, and seating herself at her feet, laid her two little, soft hands on the dear, thin, old hands, and said,-- "you must love me, for i shall love you very much. you are like my great-aunt who died." and, strange to say, our grandmother seemed quite flattered; and ever since they have been close friends. indeed she commands us all, and there is not one in the house who does not seem to think her notice a favour. i wonder if fritz would feel the same! our father lets her sit in his printing-room when he is making experiments, which none of us ever dared to do. she perches herself on the window-sill, and watches him as if she understood it all, and he talks to her as if he thought she did. then she has a wonderful way of telling the legends of the saints to the children. when our grandmother tells them, i think of the saints as heroes and warriors. when i try to relate the sacred stories to the little ones, i am afraid i make them too much like fairy tales. but when little eva is speaking about st. agnes or st. catherine, her voice becomes soft and deep, like church music; and her face grave and beautiful, like one of the child-angels in the pictures; and her eyes as if they saw into heaven. i wish fritz could hear her. i think she must be just what the saints were when they were little children, except for that strange, quiet way she has of making every one do what she likes. if our st. elizabeth had resembled our little eva in that, i scarcely think the landgravine-mother would have ventured to have been so cruel to her. perhaps it is little eva who is to be the saint among us; and by helping her we may best please god, and be admitted at last to some humble place in heaven. eisenach, _december_. it is a great comfort that fritz writes in such good spirits. he seems full of hope as to his prospects, and already he has obtained a place in some excellent institution, where, he says, he lives like a cardinal, and is quite above wanting assistance from any one. this is very encouraging. martin luther, also, is on the way to be quite a great man, fritz says. it is difficult to imagine this; he looked so much like any one else, and we are all so completely at home with him, and he talks in such a simple, familiar way to us all--not in learned words, or about difficult, abstruse subjects, like the other wise men i know. certainly it always interests us all to hear him, but one can understand all he says--even i can; so that it is not easy to think of him as a philosopher and a great man. i suppose wise men must be like the saints: one can only see what they are when they are at some distance from us. what kind of great man will martin luther be, i wonder? as great as our burgomaster, or as master trebonius? perhaps even greater than these; as great, even, as the elector's secretary, who came to see our father about his inventions. but it is a great comfort to think of it, especially on fritz's account; for i am sure martin will never forget old friends. i cannot quite comprehend eva's religion. it seems to make her happy. i do not think she is afraid of god, or even of confession. she seems to enjoy going to church as if it were a holiday in the woods; and the name of jesus seems not terrible, but dear to her, as the name of the sweet mother of god is to me. this is very difficult to understand. i think she is not even very much afraid of the judgment-day; and this is the reason why i think so:--the other night, when we were both awakened by an awful thunder-storm, i hid my face under the clothes, in order not to see the flashes, until i heard the children crying in the next room, and rose of course, to soothe them, because our mother had been very tired that day, and was, i trusted, asleep. when i had sung and talked to the little ones, and sat by them till they were asleep, i returned to our room, trembling in every limb; but i found eva kneeling by the bed-side, with her crucifix pressed to her bosom, looking as calm and happy as if the lightning flashes had been morning sunbeams. she rose from her knees when i entered; and when i was once more safely in bed, with my arm around her, and the storm had lulled a little, i said,-- "eva, are you not afraid of the lightning?" "i think it might hurt us, cousin elsè," she said; "and that was the reason i was praying to god." "but, eva," i said, "supposing the thunder should be the archangel's voice! i always think every thunder-storm may be the beginning of the day of wrath--the dreadful judgment-day. what should you do then?" she was silent a little, and then she said,-- "i think i should take my crucifix and pray, and try to ask the lord christ to remember that he died on the cross for us once. i think he would take pity on us if we did. besides, cousin elsè," she added, after a pause, "i have a sentence which always comforts me. my father taught it me when i was a very little girl, in the prison, before he died. i could not remember it all, but this part i have never forgotten: '_god so loved the world, that he gave his only son._' there was more, which i forgot; but that bit i always remembered, because i was my father's only child, and he loved me so dearly. i do not quite know all it means; but i know they are god's words, but i feel sure that it means that god loves us very much, and that he is in some way like my father." "i know," i replied, "the creed says, 'god, the father almighty;' but i never thought that the almighty father meant anything like our own father. i thought it meant only that he is very great, and that we all belong to him, and that we ought to love him. are you sure, eva, it means _he loves us_?" "i believe so, cousin elsè," said eva. "perhaps it does mean that he loves _you_, eva," i answered. "but you are a good child, and always have been, i should think; and we all know that god loves people who are good. that sentence says nothing, you see, about god loving people who are not good. it is because i am never sure that i am doing the things that please him, that i am afraid of god and of the judgment-day." eva was silent a minute, and then she said,-- "i wish i could remember the rest of the sentence. perhaps it might tell." "where does that sentence come from, eva?" i asked. "perhaps we might find it. do you think god said it to your father from heaven, in a vision or a dream, as he speaks to the saints?" "i think not, cousin elsè," she replied thoughtfully; "because my father said it was in a book, which he told me where to find, when he was gone. but when i found the book, a priest took it from me, and said it was not a good book for little girls; and i never had it again. so i have only my sentence, cousin elsè. i wish it made you happy, as it does me." i kissed the darling child and wished her good night; but i could not sleep. i wish i could see the book. but perhaps, after all, it is not a right book; because (although eva does not know it) i heard my grandmother say her father was a hussite, and died on the scaffold for believing something wrong. in the morning eva was awake before me. her large dark eyes were watching me, and the moment i woke she said,-- "cousin elsè, i think the end of that sentence has something to do with the crucifix; because i always think of them together. you know the lord jesus christ is god's only son, and he died on the cross for us." and she rose and dressed, and said she would go to matins and say prayers for me, that i might not be afraid in the next thunder-storm. it must be true, i am sure, that the cross and the blessed passion were meant to do us some good; but then they can only do good to those who please god, and that is precisely what it is so exceedingly difficult to find out how to do. i cannot think, however, that eva can in any way be believing wrong, because she is so religious and so good. she attends most regularly at the confessional, and is always at church at the early mass, and many times besides. often, also, i find her at her devotions before the crucifix and the picture of the holy virgin and child in our room. she seems really to enjoy being religious, as they say st. elizabeth did. as for me, there is so very much to do between the printing, and the house, and our dear mother's ill health, and the baby, and the boys, who tear their clothes in such incomprehensible ways, that i feel more and more how utterly hopeless it is for me ever to be like any of the saints--unless, indeed, it is st. christopher, whose legend is often a comfort to me, as our grandmother used to tell it to us, which was in this way:-- offerus was a soldier, a heathen, who lived in the land of canaan. he had a body twelve ells long. he did not like to obey, but to command. he did not care what harm he did to others, but lived a wild life, attacking and plundering all who came in his way. he only wished for one thing--to sell his services to the mightiest; and as he heard that the emperor was in those days the head of christendom, he said, "lord emperor, will you have me? to none less will i sell my heart's blood." the emperor looked at his samson strength, his giant chest, and his mighty fists, and he said, "if thou wilt serve me for ever, offerus, i will accept thee." immediately the giant answered, "to serve you _for ever_ is not so easily promised; but as long as i am your soldier, none in east or west shall trouble you." thereupon he went with the emperor through all the land, and the emperor was delighted with him. all the soldiers, in the combat as at the wine-cup, were miserable, helpless creatures compared with offerus. now the emperor had a harper who sang from morning till bed-time; and whenever the emperor was weary with the march this minstrel had to touch his harp-strings. once, at eventide, they pitched the tents near a forest. the emperor ate and drank lustily; the minstrel sang a merry song. but as, in his song, he spoke of the evil one, the emperor signed the cross on his forehead. said offerus aloud to his comrades, "what is this? what jest is the prince making now?" then the emperor said, "offerus, listen: i did it on account of the wicked fiend, who is said often to haunt this forest with great rage and fury." that seemed marvellous to offerus, and he said, scornfully, to the emperor, "i have a fancy for wild boars and deer. let us hunt in this forest." the emperor said softly, "offerus, no! let alone the chase in this forest, for in filling thy larder thou mightst harm thy soul." then offerus made a wry face, and said, "the grapes are sour; if your highness is afraid of the devil, i will enter the service of this lord, who is mightier than you." thereupon he coolly demanded his pay, took his departure, with no very ceremonious leave-taking, and strode off cheerily into the thickest depths of the forest. in a wild clearing of the forest he found the devil's altar, built of black cinders: and on it, in the moonlight gleamed the white skeletons of men and horses. offerus was in no way terrified, but quietly inspected the skulls and bones; then he called three times in a loud voice on the evil one, and seating himself fell asleep, and soon began to snore. when it was midnight, the earth seemed to crack, and on a coal-black horse he saw a pitch-black rider, who rode at him furiously, and sought to bind him with solemn promises. but offerus said, "we shall see." then they went together through the kingdoms of the world, and offerus found him a better master than the emperor; needed seldom to polish his armour, but had plenty of feasting and fun. however, one day as they went along the high-road, three tall crosses stood before them. then the black prince suddenly had a cold, and said, "let us creep round by the bye-road." said offerus, "methinks you are afraid of those gallows trees," and, drawing his bow, he shot an arrow into the middle cross. "what bad manners!" said satan, softly; "do you not know that he who in his form as a servant is the son of mary, now exercises great power?" "if that is the case," said offerus, "i came to you fettered by no promise; now i will seek further for the mightiest, whom only i will serve." then satan went off with a mocking laugh, and offerus went on his way asking every traveller he met for the son of mary. but, alas! few bear him in their hearts; and no one could tell the giant where the lord dwelt, until one evening offerus found an old pious hermit, who gave him a night's lodging in his cell, and sent him next morning to the carthusian cloister. there the lord prior listened to offerus, showed him plainly the path of faith, and told him he must fast and pray, as john the baptist did of old in the wilderness. but he replied, "locusts and wild honey, my lord, are quite contrary to my nature, and i do not know any prayers. i should lose my strength altogether, and had rather not go to heaven at all in that way." "reckless man!" said the prior. "however, you may try another way: give yourself up heartily to achieve some good work." "ah! let me hear," said offerus; "i have strength for that." "see, there flows a mighty river, which hinders pilgrims on their way to rome. it has neither ford nor bridge. carry the faithful over on thy back." "if i can please the saviour in that way, willingly will i carry the travellers to and fro," replied the giant. and thereupon he built a hut of reeds, and dwelt thenceforth among the water-rats and beavers on the borders of the river, carrying pilgrims over the river cheerfully, like a camel or an elephant. but if any one offered him ferry-money, he said, "i labour for eternal life." and when now, after many years, offerus's hair had grown white, one stormy night a plaintive little voice called to him, "dear, good, tall offerus, carry me across." offerus was tired and sleepy, but he thought faithfully of jesus christ, and with weary arms seizing the pine trunk which was his staff when the floods swelled high, he waded through the water and nearly reached the opposite bank; but he saw no pilgrim there, so he thought, "i was dreaming," and went back and lay down to sleep again. but scarcely had he fallen asleep when again came the little voice, this time very plaintive and touching, "offerus, good, dear, great, tall offerus, carry me across." patiently the old giant crossed the river again, but neither man nor mouse was to be seen, and he went back and lay down again, and was soon fast asleep; when once more came the little voice, clear and plaintive, and imploring, "good, dear giant offerus, carry me across." the third time he seized his pine-stem and went through the cold river. this time he found a tender, fair little boy, with golden hair. in his left hand was the standard of the lamb; in his right, the globe. he looked at the giant with eyes full of love and trust, and offerus lifted him up with two fingers; but, when he entered the river, the little child weighed on him like a ton. heavier and heavier grew the weight, until the water almost reached his chin; great drops of sweat stood on his brow, and he had nearly sunk in the stream with the little one. however, he struggled through, and tottering to the other side, set the child gently down on the bank, and said, "my little lord, prithee, come not this way again, for scarcely have i escaped this time with life." but the fair child baptized offerus on the spot, and said to him, "know all thy sins are forgiven; and although thy limbs tottered, fear not, nor marvel, but rejoice; thou hast carried the saviour of the world! for a token, plant thy pine-trunk, so long dead and leafless, in the earth; to-morrow it shall shoot out green twigs. and henceforth thou shalt be called not offerus, but christopher." then christopher folded his hands and prayed and said, "i feel my end draws nigh. my limbs tremble; my strength fails; and god has forgiven me all my sins." thereupon the child vanished in light; and christopher set his staff into the earth. and so on the morrow, it shot out green leaves and red blossoms like an almond. and three days afterwards the angels carried christopher to paradise. this is the legend which gives me more hope than any other. how sweet it would be, if, when i had tried in some humble way to help one and another on the way to the holy city, when the last burden was borne, and the strength was failing, the holy child should appear to me and say, "little elsè, you have done the work i meant you to do--your sins are forgiven;" and then the angels were to come and take me up in their arms, and carry me across the dark river, and my life were to grow young and bloom again in paradise like st. christopher's withered staff! but to watch all the long days of life by the river, and carry the burdens, and not know if we are doing the right thing after all--that is what is so hard! sweet, when the river was crossed, to find that in fulfilling some little, humble, every-day duty, one had actually been serving and pleasing the mightiest, the saviour of the world! but if one could only know it _whilst one was_ struggling through the flood, how delightful that would be! how little one would mind the icy water, or the aching shoulders, or the tottering, failing limbs! eisenach, _january_, . fritz is at home with us again. he looks as much a man now as our father, with his moustache and his sword. how cheerful the sound of his firm step and his deep voice makes the house! when i look at him sometimes, as he tosses the children and catches them in his arms, or as he flings the balls with christopher and pollux, or shoots with bow and arrows in the evenings at the city games, my old wish recurs that he had lived in the days when our ancestors dwelt in the castles in bohemia, and that fritz had been a knight, to ride at the head of his retainers to battle for some good cause,--against the turks, for instance, who are now, they say, threatening the empire, and all christendom. my little world at home is wide indeed, and full enough for me, but this burgher life seems narrow and poor for him. i should like him to have to do with men instead of books. women can read, and learn, and think, if they have time (although, of course, not as well as men can); i have even heard of women writing books. st. barbara and st. catherine understood astronomy, and astrology, and philosophy, and could speak i do not know how many languages. but they could not have gone forth armed with shield and spear like st. george of cappadocia, to deliver the fettered princess and slay the great african dragon. and i should like fritz to do what women can_not_ do. there is such strength in his light, agile frame, and such power in his dark eyes; although, certainly after all he had written to us about his princely fare at the house at erfurt, where he is a beneficiary, our mother and i did not expect to have seen his face looking so hollow and thin. he has brought me back my godmother's gulden. he says he is an independent man, earning his own livelihood, and quite above receiving any such gratuities. however, as i devoted it to fritz i feel i have a right to spend it on him, which is a great comfort, because i can provide a better table than we can usually afford, during the few days he will stay with us, so that he may never guess how pinched we often are. i am ashamed of myself, but there is something in this return of fritz which disappoints me. i have looked forward to it day and night through all these two years with such longing. i thought we should begin again exactly where we left off. i pictured to myself the old daily life with him going on again as of old. i thought of our sitting in the lumber-room, and chatting over all our perplexities, our own and the family's, and pouring our hearts into each other's without reserve or fear, so that it was scarcely like talking at all, but like thinking aloud. and, now, instead of our being acquainted with every detail of each other's daily life, so that we are aware what we are feeling without speaking about it, there is a whole history of new experience to be narrated step by step, and we do not seem to know where to begin. none of the others can feel this as i do. he is all to the children and our parents that he ever was, and why should i expect more? indeed, i scarcely know what i did expect, or what i do want. why should fritz be more to me than to any one else? it is selfish to wish it, and it is childish to imagine that two years could bring no change. could i have wished it? do i not glory in his strength, and in his free and manly bearing! and could i wish a student at the great university of erfurt, who is soon to be a bachelor of arts, to come and sit on the piles of old books in our lumber-room, and to spend his time in gossiping with me? besides, what have i to say? and yet, this evening, when the twilight-hour came round for the third time since he returned, and he seemed to forget all about it, i could not help feeling troubled, and so took refuge here by myself. fritz has been sitting in the family-room for the last hour, with all the children round him, telling them histories of what the students do at erfurt; of their poetical club, where they meet and recite their own verses, or translations of the ancient books which have been unburied lately, and yet are fresher, he says, than any new ones, and set every one thinking; of the debating meeting, and the great singing parties where hundreds of voices join, making music fuller than any organ,--in both of which martin luther seems a leader and a prince; and then of the fights among the students, in which i do not think martin luther has joined, but which, certainly, interest christopher and pollux more than anything else. the boys were standing on each side of fritz, listening with wide open eyes; chriemhild and atlantis had crept close behind him with their sewing; little thekla was on his knee, playing with his sword-girdle; and little eva was perched in her favourite place on the window-sill, in front of him. at first she kept at a distance from him, and said nothing; not, i think, from shyness, for i do not believe that child is afraid of any one or any thing, but from a quaint way she has of observing people, as if she were learning them through like a new language, or, like a sovereign making sure of the character of a new subject before she admits him into her service. the idea of the little creature treating our fritz in that grand style! but it is of no use resisting it. he has passed through his probation like the rest of us, and is as much flattered as the grandmother, or any of us, at being admitted into her confidence. when i left, eva, who had been listening for some time with great attention to his student-stories, had herself become the chief speaker, and the whole party were attending with riveted interest while she related to them her favourite legend of st. catherine. they had all heard it before, but in some way when eva tells these histories they always seem new. i suppose it is because she believes them so fervently; it is not as if she were repeating something she had heard, but quietly narrating something she has seen, much as one would imagine an angel might who had been watching unseen while it all happened. and, meantime, her eyes, when she raises them, with their fringe of long lashes, seem to look at once into your heart and into heaven. no wonder fritz forgets the twilight-hour. but it is strange he has never once asked about our chronicle. of that, however, i am glad, because i would not for the world show him the narrative of our struggles. can it be possible i am envious of little eva--dear, little, loving, orphan eva? i do rejoice that all the world should love him. yet, it was so happy to be fritz's only friend; and why should a little stranger child steal my precious twilight-hour from me? well, i suppose aunt agnes was right, and i made an idol of fritz, and god was angry, and i am being punished. but the saints seemed to find a kind of sacred pleasure in their punishments, and i do not; nor do i feel at all the better for them, but the worse--which is another proof how hopeless it is for me to try to be a saint. eisenach, _february_. as i wrote those last words in the deepening twilight, two strong hands were laid very gently on my shoulders, and a voice said-- "sister elsè, _why_ can you not show me your chronicle?" i could make no reply. "you are convicted," rejoined the same voice. "do you think i do not know where that gulden came from? let me see your godmother's purse." i began to feel the tears choking me; but fritz did not seem to notice them. "elsè," he said, "you may practise your little deceptive arts on all the rest of the family, but they will not do with me. do you think you will ever persuade me you have grown thin by eating sausages and cakes and wonderful holiday puddings every day of your life? do you think the hungry delight in the eyes of those boys was occasioned by their every-day, ordinary fare? do you think," he added, taking my hands in one of his, "i did not see how blue and cold, and covered with chilblains, these little hands were, which piled up the great logs on the hearth when i came in this morning?" of course i could do nothing but put my head on his shoulder and cry quietly. it was of no use denying anything. then he added rapidly, in a low deep voice-- "do you think i could help seeing our mother at her old devices, pretending she had no appetite, and liked nothing so much as bones and sinews?" "o fritz," i sobbed, "i cannot help it. what am i to do?" "at least," he said, more cheerfully, "promise me, little woman, you will never make a distinguished stranger of your brother again, and endeavour by all kinds of vain and deceitful devices to draw the whole weight of the family cares on your own shoulders." "do you think it is a sin i ought to confess, fritz?" i said; "i did not mean it deceitfully; but i am always making such blunders about right and wrong. what can i do?" "does aunt ursula know?" he asked rather fiercely. "no; the mother will not let me tell any one. she thinks they would reflect on our father; and he told her only last week, he has a plan about a new way of smelting lead, which is, i think, to turn it all into silver. that would certainly be a wonderful discovery; and he thinks the elector would take it up at once, and we should probably have to leave eisenach and live near the electoral court. perhaps even the emperor would require us to communicate the secret to him, and then we should have to leave the country altogether; for you know there are great lead-mines in spain; and if once people could make silver out of lead, it would be much easier and safer than going across the great ocean to procure the native silver from the indian savages." fritz drew a long breath. "and meantime?" he said. "well, meantime," i said, "it is of course, sometimes a little difficult to get on." he mused a little while, and then he said-- "little elsè, i have thought of a plan which may, i think, bring us a few guldens--until the process of transmuting lead into silver is completed." "of course," i said, "after that we shall want nothing, but be able to give to those who do want. and oh, fritz! how well we shall understand how to help people who are poor. do you think that is why god lets us be so poor ourselves so long, and never seems to hear our prayers?" "it would be pleasant to think so, elsè," said fritz, gravely; "but it is very difficult to understand how to please god, or how to make our prayers reach him at all--at least when we are so often feeling and doing wrong." it cheered me to see that fritz does not despair of the great invention succeeding one day. he did not tell me what his own plan is. does fritz, then, also feel so sinful and so perplexed how to please god? perhaps a great many people feel the same. it is very strange. if it had only pleased god to make it a little plainer. i wonder if that book eva lost would tell us anything! after that evening the barrier between me and fritz was of course quite gone, and we seemed closer than ever. we had delightful twilight talks in our lumber-room, and i love him more than ever. so that aunt agnes would, i suppose, think me more of an idolater than before. but it is very strange that idolatry should seem to do me so much good. i seem to love all the world better for loving fritz, and to find everything easier to bear, by having him to unburden everything on, so that i had never fewer little sins to confess than during the two weeks fritz was at home. if god had only made loving brothers and sisters and the people at home the way to please him, instead of not loving them too much, or leaving them all to bury one's self in a cold convent, like aunt agnes! little eva actually persuaded fritz to begin teaching her the latin grammar! i suppose she wishes to be like her beloved st. catherine, who was so learned. and she says all the holy books, the prayers and the hymns, are in latin, so that she thinks it must be a language god particularly loves. she asked me a few days since if they speak latin in heaven. of course i could not tell. i told her i believed the bible was originally written in two other languages, the languages of the greeks and the jews, and that i had heard some one say adam and eve spoke the jews' language in paradise, which i suppose god taught them. but i have been thinking over it since, and i should not wonder if eva is right. because, unless latin is the language of the saints and holy angels in heaven, why should god wish the priests to speak it everywhere, and the people to say the ave and paternoster in it? we should understand it all so much better in german; but of course if latin is the language of the blessed saints and angels, that is a reason for it. if we do not always understand, they do, which is a great comfort. only i think it is a very good plan of little eva's to try and learn latin; and when i have more time to be religious, perhaps i may try also. iv. extracts from friedrich's chronicle. erfurt, . the university seems rather a cold world after the dear old home at eisenach. but it went to my heart to see how our mother and elsè struggle, and how worn and thin they look. happily for them, they have still hope in the great invention, and i would not take it away for the world. but meantime, i must at once do something to help. i can sometimes save some viands from my meals, which are portioned out to us liberally on this foundation, and sell them; and i can occasionally earn a little by copying themes for the richer students, or sermons and postils for the monks. the printing-press has certainly made that means of maintenance more precarious; but printed books are still very dear, and also very large, and the priests are often glad of small copies of fragments of the postils, or orations of the fathers, written off in a small, clear hand, to take with them on their circuits around the villages. there is also writing to be done for the lawyers, so that i do not despair of earning something: and if my studies are retarded a little, it does not so much matter. it is not for me to aspire to great things, unless, indeed, they can be reached by small and patient steps. i have a work to do for the family. my youth must be given to supporting them by the first means i can find. if i succeed, perhaps christopher or pollux will have leisure to aim higher than i can; or, perhaps, in middle and later life i myself shall have leisure to pursue the studies of these great old classics, which seem to make the horizon of our thoughts so wide, and the world so glorious and large, and life so deep. it would certainly be a great delight to devote one's self, as martin luther is now able to do, to literature and philosophy. his career is opening nobly. this spring he has taken his degree as master of arts, and he has been lecturing on aristotle's physics and logic. he has great power of making dim things clear, and old things fresh. his lectures are crowded. he is also studying law, in order to qualify himself for some office in the state. his parents (judging from his father's letters) seem to centre all their hopes in him; and it is almost the same here at the university. great things are expected of him; indeed there scarcely seems any career that is not open to him. and he is a man of such heart, as well as intellect, that he seems to make all the university, the professors as well as the students, look on him as a kind of possession of their own. all seem to feel a property in his success. just as it was with our little circle at eisenach, so it is with the great circle at the university. he is _our_ master martin; and in every step of his ascent we ourselves feel a little higher. i wonder, if his fame should indeed spread as we anticipate, if it will be the same one day with all germany? if the whole land will say exultingly by-and-by--_our_ martin luther? not that he is without enemies; his temper is too hot and his heart too warm for that negative distinction of phlegmatic negative natures. _june_, . martin luther came to me a few days since, looking terribly agitated. his friend alexius has been assassinated, and he takes it exceedingly to heart; not only, i think, because of the loss of one he loved, but because it brings death so terribly near, and awakens again those questionings which i know are in the depths of his heart, as well as of mine, about god, and judgment, and the dark, dread future before us, which we cannot solve, yet cannot escape nor forget. to-day we met again, and he was full of a book he had discovered in the university library, where he spends most of his leisure hours. it was a latin bible, which he had never seen before in his life. he marvelled greatly to see so much more in it than in the evangelia read in the churches, or in the collections of homilies. he was called away to lecture, or, he said, he could have read on for hours. especially one history seems to have impressed him deeply. it was in the old testament. it was the story of the child samuel and his mother hannah. "he read it quickly through," he said, "with hearty delight and joy; and because this was all new to him, he began to wish from the bottom of his heart that god would one day bestow on him such a book for his own." i suppose it is the thought of his own pious mother which makes this history interest him so peculiarly. it is indeed a beautiful history, as he told it me, and makes one almost wish one had been born in the times of the old hebrew monarchy. it seems as if god listened so graciously and readily then to that poor sorrowful woman's prayers. and if we could only, each of us, hear that voice from heaven, how joyful it would be to reply, like that blessed child, "speak, lord, for thy servant heareth;" and then to learn, without possibility of mistake, what god really requires of each of us. i suppose, however, the monks do feel as sure of their vocation as the holy child of old, when they leave home and the world for the service of the church. it would be a great help if other people had vocations to their various works in life, like the prophet samuel and (i suppose) the monks, that we might all go on fearlessly, with a firm step, each in his appointed path, and feel sure that we are doing the right thing, instead of perhaps drawing down judgments on those we would die to serve, by our mistakes and sins. it can hardly be intended that all men should be monks and nuns. would to heaven, therefore, that laymen had also their vocation, instead of this terrible uncertainty and doubt that will shadow the heart at times, that we may have missed our path (as i did that night in the snow-covered forest), and, like cain, be flying from the presence of god, and gathering on us and ours his curse. _july_ , . there is a great gloom over the university. the plague is among us. many are lying dead who, only last week, were full of youth and hope. numbers of the professors, masters, and students have fled to their homes, or to various villages in the nearest reaches of the thuringian forest. the churches are thronged at all the services. the priests and monks (those who remain in the infected city) take advantage of the terror the presence of the pestilence excites, to remind people of the more awful terrors of that dreadful day of judgment and wrath which no one will be able to flee. women, and sometimes men, are borne fainting from the churches, and often fall at once under the infection, and never are seen again. martin luther seems much troubled in mind. this epidemic, following so close on the assassination of his friend, seems to overwhelm him. but he does not talk of leaving the city. perhaps the terrors which weigh most on him are those the preachers recall so vividly to us just now, from which there is no flight by change of place, but only by change of life. during this last week, especially since he was exposed to a violent thunder-storm on the high road near erfurt, he has seemed strangely altered. a deep gloom is on his face, and he seems to avoid his old friends. i have scarcely spoken to him. _july_ . to-day, to my great surprise, martin has invited me and several other of his friends to meet at his rooms on the day after to-morrow, to pass a social evening in singing and feasting. the plague has abated; yet i rather wonder at any one thinking of merry-making yet. they say, however, that a merry heart is the best safe-guard. _july_ . the secret of martin luther's feast is opened now. the whole university is in consternation. he has decided on becoming a monk. many think it is a sudden impulse, which may yet pass away. i do not. i believe it is the result of the conflict of years, and that he has only yielded, in this act, to convictions which have been recurring to him continually during all his brilliant university career. never did he seem more animated than yesterday evening. the hours flew by in eager, cheerful conversation. a weight seemed removed from us. the pestilence was departing; the professors and students were returning. we felt life resuming its old course, and ventured once more to look forward with hope. many of us had completed our academical course, and were already entering the larger world beyond--the university of life. some of us had appointments already promised, and most of us had hopes of great things in the future; the less definite the prospects, perhaps the more brilliant. martin luther did not hazard any speculations as to his future career; but that surprised none of us. his fortune, we said, was insured already; and many a jesting claim was put in for his future patronage, when he should be a great man. we had excellent music also, as always at any social gathering where martin luther is. his clear, true voice was listened to with applause in many a well-known song, and echoed in joyous choruses afterward by the whole party. so the evening passed, until the university hour for repose had nearly arrived; when suddenly, in the silence after the last note of the last chorus had died away, he bid us all farewell; for on the morrow, he said, he purposed to enter the augustinian monastery as a novice! at first, some treated this as a jest; but his look and bearing soon banished that idea. then all earnestly endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose. some spoke of the expectations the university had formed of him--others, of the career in the world open to him; but at all this he only smiled. when, however, one of us reminded him of his father, and the disappointment it might cause in his home, i noticed that a change came over his face, and i thought there was a slight quiver on his lip. but all,--friendly remark, calm remonstrance, fervent, affectionate entreaties,--all were unavailing. "to-day," he said, "you see me; after this you will see me no more." thus we separated. but this morning, when some of his nearest friends went to his rooms early, with the faint hope of yet inducing him to listen, while we pressed on him the thousand unanswerable arguments which had occurred to us since we parted from him, his rooms were empty, and he was nowhere to be found. to all our inquiries we received no reply but that master martin had gone that morning, before it was light, to the augustinian cloister. thither we followed him, and knocked loudly at the heavy convent gates. after some minutes they were slightly opened, and a sleepy porter appeared. "is martin luther here?" we asked. "he is here!" was the reply; not, we thought, without a little triumph in the tone. "we wish to speak with him," demanded one of us. "no one is to speak with him," was the grim rejoinder. "until when?" we asked. there was a little whispering inside, and then came the decisive answer, "not for a month at least." we would have lingered to parley further, but the heavy nailed doors were closed against us, we heard the massive bolts rattle as they were drawn, and all our assaults with fists or iron staffs on the convent gates, from that moment did not awaken another sound within. "dead to the world, indeed!" murmured one at length; "the grave could not be more silent." baffled, and hoarse with shouting, we wandered back again to martin luther's rooms. the old familiar rooms, where we had so lately spent hours with him in social converse; where i and many of us had spent so many an hour in intimate, affectionate intercourse,--his presence would be there no more; and the unaltered aspect of the mute, inanimate things only made the emptiness and change more painful by the contrast. and yet, when we began to examine more closely, the aspect of many things was changed. his flute and lute, indeed, lay on the table, just as he had left them on the previous evening. but the books--scholastic, legal, and classical--were piled up carefully in one corner, and directed to the booksellers. in looking over the well-known volumes, i only missed two, virgil and plautus; i suppose he took these with him. whilst we were looking at a parcel neatly rolled up in another place, the old man who kept his rooms in order came in, and said, "that is master martin's master's robe, his holiday attire, and his master's ring. they are to be sent to his parents at mansfeld." a choking sensation came over me as i thought of the father who had struggled so hard to maintain his son, and had hoped so much from him, receiving that packet. not from the dead. worse than from the dead, it seemed to me. deliberately self-entombed; deliberately with his own hands building up a barrier between him and all who love him best. with the dead, if they are happy, we may hold communion--at least the creed speaks of the communion of saints; we may pray to them; or, at the worst, we may pray for them. but between the son in the convent and the father at mansfeld the barrier is not merely one of stone and earth. it is of the impenetrable iron of will and conscience. it would be a _temptation_ now for martin luther to pour out his heart in affectionate words to father, mother, or friend. and yet, if he is right,--if the flesh is only to be subdued, if god is only to be pleased, if heaven is only to be won in this way,--it is of little moment indeed what the suffering may be to us or any belonging to us in this fleeting life, down which the grim gates of death which close it, ever cast their long shadow. may not martin serve his family better in the cloister than at the emperor's court, for is not the cloister the court of a palace more imperial?--we may say, the very audience-chamber of the king of kings. besides, if he had a vocation, what curse might not follow despising it? happy for those whose vocation is so clear that they dare not disobey it; or whose hearts are so pure that they would not if they dared! _july_ . these two days the university has been in a ferment at the disappearance of martin luther. many are indignant with him, and more with the monks, who, they say, have taken advantage of a fervent impulse, and drawn him into their net. some, however, especially those of the school of mutianus--the humanists--laugh, and say there are ways through the cloister to the court,--and even to the tiara. but those misunderstand martin. we who know him are only too sure that he will be a true monk, and that for him there is no gate from the cloister back into the world. it appears now that he had been meditating this step more than a fortnight. on the first of this month (july) he was walking on the road between erfurt and stotterheim, when a thunder-storm which had been gathering over the thuringian forest, and weighing with heavy silence on the plague-laden air, suddenly burst over his head. he was alone, and far from shelter. peal followed peal, succeeded by terrible silences; the forked lightning danced wildly around him, until at length one terrific flash tore up the ground at his feet, and nearly stunned him. he was alone, and far from shelter; he felt his soul equally alone and unsheltered. the thunder seemed to him the angry voice of an irresistible, offended god. the next flash might wither his body to ashes, and smite his soul into the flames it so terribly recalled; and the next thunder-peal which followed might echo like the trumpet of doom over him lying unconscious, deaf, and mute in death. unconscious and mute as to his body! but who could imagine to what terrible intensity of conscious, everlasting anguish his soul might have awakened; what wailings might echo around his lost spirit, what cries of unavailing entreaty he might be pouring forth? unavailing then! not, perhaps wholly unavailing now! he fell on his knees,--he prostrated himself on the earth, and cried in his anguish and terror, "help, beloved st. anne, and i will straightway become a monk." the storm rolled slowly away; but the irrevocable words had been spoken, and the peals of thunder, as they rumbled more and more faintly in the distance, echoed on his heart like the dirge of all his worldly life. he reached erfurt in safety, and, distrustful of his own steadfastness, breathed nothing of his purpose except to those who would, he thought, sustain him in it. this was no doubt the cause of his absent and estranged looks, and of his avoiding us during that fortnight. he confided his intention first to andrew staffelstein, the rector of the university, who applauded and encouraged him, and took him at once to the new franciscan cloister. the monks received him with delight, and urged his immediately joining their order. he told them he must first acquaint his father of his purpose, as an act of confidence only due to a parent who had denied himself so much and toiled so hard to maintain his son liberally at the university. but the rector and the monks rejoined that he must not consult with flesh and blood; he must "forsake father and mother, and steal away to the cross of christ." "whoso putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back," said they, "is not worthy of the kingdom of god." to remain in the world was peril. to return to it was perdition. a few religious women to whom the rector mentioned martin's intentions, confirmed him in them with fervent words of admiration and encouragement. did not one of them relent, and take pity on his mother and his father? and yet, i doubt if martin's mother would have interposed one word of remonstrance between him and the cloister. she is a very religious woman. to offer her son, her pride, to god, would have been offering the dearest part of herself; and women have a strength in self-sacrifice, and a mysterious joy, which i feel no doubt would have carried her through. with martin's father it would no doubt have been different. he has not a good opinion of the monks, and he has a very strong sense of paternal and filial duty. he, the shrewd, hard-working, successful peasant, looks on the monks as a company of drones, who, in imagining they are giving up the delights of the world, are often only giving up its duties. he was content to go through any self-denial and toil that martin, the pride of the whole family, might have scope to develop his abilities. but to have the fruit of all his counsel, and care, and work buried in a convent, will be very bitter to him. it was terrible advice for the rector to give his son. and yet, no doubt, god has the first claim; and to expose martin to any influence which might have induced him to give up his vocation, would have been perilous indeed. no doubt the conflict in martin's heart was severe enough as it was. his nature is so affectionate, his sense of filial duty so strong, and his honour and love for his parents so deep. since the step is taken, holy mary aid him not to draw back! _december_, . this morning i saw a sight i never thought to have seen. a monk, in the grey frock and cowl of the augustinians, was pacing slowly through the streets with a heavy sack on his shoulders. the ground was covered with snow, his feet were bare; but it was no unfrequent sight, and i was idly and half-unconsciously watching him pause at door after door, and humbly receiving any contributions that were offered, stow them away in the convent-sack, when at length he stopped at the door of the house i was in, and then, as his face turned up towards the window where i stood, i caught the eye of martin luther! i hurried to the door with a loaf in my hand, and, before offering it to him, would have embraced him as of old; but he bowed low as he received the bread, until his forehead nearly touched the ground, and, murmuring a latin "gratias," would have passed on. "martin," i said, "do you not know me?" "i am on the service of the convent," he said. "it is against the rules to converse or to linger." it was hard to let him go without another word. "god and the saints help thee, brother martin!" i said. he half turned, crossed himself, bowed low once more, as a maid-servant threw him some broken meat, said meekly, "god be praised for every gift he bestoweth," and went on his toilsome quest for alms with stooping form and downcast eyes. but how changed his face was! the flush of youth and health quite faded from the thin, hollow cheeks; the fire of wit and fancy all dimmed in the red, sunken eyes! fire there is indeed in them still, but it seemed to me of the kind that consumes--not that warms and cheers. they are surely harsh to him at the convent. to send him who was the pride and ornament of the university not six months ago, begging from door to door, at the houses of friends and pupils, with whom he may not even exchange a greeting! is there no pleasure to the obscure and ignorant monks in thus humbling one who was so lately so far above them? the hands which wield such rods need to be guided by hearts that are very noble or very tender. nevertheless, i have no doubt that brother martin inflicts severer discipline on himself than any that can be laid on him from without. it is no external conflict that has thus worn and bowed him down in less than half a year. i fear he will impose some severe mortification or himself for having spoken those few words to which i tempted him. but if it is his vocation, and if it is for heaven, and if he is thereby earning merits to bestow on others, any conflict could no doubt be endured! _july_, . brother martin's novitiate has expired, and he has taken the name of augustine, but we shall scarcely learn to call him by it. several of us were present a few days since at his taking the final vows in the augustinian church. once more we heard the clear, pleasant voice which most of us had heard, in song and animated conversation, on that farewell evening. it sounded weak and thin, no doubt with fasting. the garb of the novice was laid aside, the monk's frock was put on, and kneeling below the altar steps, with the prior's hands on his bowed head, he took the vow in latin:-- "i, brother martin, do make profession and promise obedience unto almighty god, unto mary, ever virgin, and unto thee, my brother, prior of this cloister, in the name and in the stead of the general prior of the order of the eremites of st. augustine, the bishop and his regular successors, to live in poverty and chastity after the rule of the said st. augustine until death." then the burning taper, symbol of the lighted and ever-vigilant heart, was placed in his hand. the prior murmured a prayer over him, and instantly from the whole of the monks burst the hymn, "veni sancte spiritus." he knelt while they were singing; and then the monks led him up the steps into the choir, and welcomed him with the kiss of brotherhood. within the screen, within the choir, among the holy brotherhood inside, who minister before the altar! and we, his old friends, left outside in the nave, separated from him for ever by the screen of that irrevocable vow! for ever! is it for ever? will there indeed be such a veil, an impenetrable barrier, between us and him at the judgment-day? and we outside? a barrier impassable for ever then, but not now, not yet. _january_, . i have just returned from another christmas at home. things look a little brighter there. this last year, since i took my master's degree, i have been able to help them a little more effectually with the money i receive from my pupils. it was a delight to take our dear, self-denying, loving elsè a new dress for holidays, although she protested her old crimson petticoat and black jacket were as good as ever. the child eva has still that deep, calm, earnest look in her eyes, as if she saw into the world of things unseen and eternal, and saw there what filled her heart with joy. i suppose it is that angelic depth of her eyes, in contrast with the guileless, rosy smile of the child-like lips, which gives the strange charm to her face, and makes one think of the pictures of the child-angels. she can read the church latin now easily, and delights especially in the old hymns. when she repeats them in that soft, reverent, childish voice, they seem to me deeper and more sacred than when sung by the fullest choir. her great favourite is st. bernard's "jesu dulcis memoria," and his "salve caput cruentatum;" but some verses of the "dies iræ" also are very often on her lips. i used to hear her warbling softly about the house, or at her work, with a voice like a happy dove hidden in the depths of some quiet wood,-- "querens me sedisti lassus," jesu mi dulcissime, domine coelorum, conditor omnipotens, rex universorum; quis jam actus sufficit mirari gestorum, quæ te ferie compulit salus miserorum. te de coelo caritas traxit animarum, pro quibus palatium deserens præclarum; miseram ingrediens vallum lacrymarum, opus durum suscipis, et iter amarum.[ ] [footnote : "jesu, sovereign lord of heaven, sweetest friend to me. king of all the universe, all was made by thee; who can know or comprehend the wonders thou has wrought, since the saving of the lost thee so low hath brought? thee the love of souls drew down from beyond the sky,-- drew thee from thy glorious home, thy palace bright and high! to this narrow vale of tears thou thy footsteps bendest: hard the work thou tak'st on thee, rough the way thou wendest."] the sonorous words of the ancient imperial language sound so sweet and strange, and yet so familiar from the fresh childish voice. latin seems from her lips no more a dead language. it is as if she had learned it naturally in infancy from listening to the songs of the angels, who watched her in her sleep, or from the lips of a sainted mother bending over her pillow from heaven. one thing, however, seems to disappoint little eva. she has a sentence taken from a book her father left her before he died, but which she was never allowed to see afterwards. she is always hoping to find the book in which this sentence was, and has not yet succeeded. i have little doubt myself that the book was some heretical volume belonging to her father, who was executed for being a hussite. it is to be hoped, therefore, she will never find it. she did not tell me this herself, probably because elsè, to whom she mentioned it, discouraged her in such a search. we all feel it is a great blessing to have rescued that innocent heart from the snares of those pernicious heretics, against whom our saxon nation made such a noble struggle. there are not very many of the hussites left now in bohemia. as a national party they are indeed destroyed, since the calixtines separated from them. there are, however, still a few dragging out a miserable existence among the forests and mountains; and it is reported that these opinions have not yet even been quite crushed in the cities, in spite of the vigorous measures used against them, but that not a few secretly cling to their tenets, although outwardly conforming to the church. so inveterate is the poison of heresy, and so great the danger from which little eva has been rescued. erfurt, _may _, . to-day once more the seclusion and silence which have enveloped martin luther since he entered the cloister have been broken. this day he has been consecrated priest, and has celebrated his first mass. there was a great feast at the augustinian convent; offerings poured in abundance into the convent treasury, and martin's father, john luther, came from mansfeld to be present at the ceremony. he is reconciled at last to his son (whom for a long time he refused to see); although not, i believe, to his monastic profession. it is certainly no willing sacrifice on the father's part. and no wonder. after toiling for years to place his favourite son in a position where his great abilities might have scope, it must have been hard to see everything thrown away just as success was attained, for what seemed to him a willful, superstitious fancy. and without a word of dutiful consultation to prepare him for the blow! having, however, at last made up his mind to forgive his son, he forgave him like a father, and came in pomp with precious gifts to do him honour. he rode to the convent gate with an escort of twenty horsemen, and gave his son a present of twenty florins. brother martin was so cheered by the reconciliation, that at the ordination feast he ventured to try to obtain from his father not only pardon, but sanction and approval. it was of the deepest interest to me to hear his familiar eloquent voice again, pleading for his father's approval. but he failed. in vain he stated in his own fervent words the motives that had led to his vow; in vain did the monks around support and applaud all he said. the old man was not to be moved. "dear father," said martin, "what was the reason of thy objecting to my choice to become a monk? why wert thou then so displeased, and perhaps art not reconciled yet? it is such a peaceful and godly life to live." i cannot say that brother martin's worn and furrowed face spoke much for the peacefulness of his life; but master john luther boldly replied in a voice that all at the table might hear,-- "didst thou never hear that a son must be obedient to his parents? and, you learned men, did you never read the scriptures, 'thou shalt honour thy father and thy mother?' god grant that those signs you speak of may not prove to be lying wonders of satan." brother martin attempted no defence. a look of sharp pain came over his face, as if an arrow had pierced his heart; but he remained quite silent. yet he is a priest; he is endued with a power never committed even to the holy angels--to transubstantiate bread into god--to sacrifice for the living and the dead. he is admitted into the inner circle of the court of heaven. he is on board that sacred ark which once he saw portrayed at magdeburg, where priests and monks sail safely amidst a drowning world. and what is more, he himself may, from his safe and sacred vessel, stoop down and rescue perishing men; perhaps confer unspeakable blessings on the soul of that very father whose words so wounded him. for such ends well may he bear that the arrow should pierce his heart. did not a sword pierce thine, o mournful mother of consolations? and he is certain of his vocation. he does not think as we in the world so often must, "is god leading me, or the devil? am i resisting his higher calling in only obeying the humbler call of every-day duty? am i bringing down blessings on those i love, or curses?" brother martin, without question, has none of these distracting doubts. he may well bear any other anguish which may meet him _in_ the ways of god, and _because_ he has chosen them. at least he has not to listen to such tales as i have heard lately from a young knight, ulrich von hutton, who is studying here at present, and has things to relate of the monks, priests, and bishops in rome itself which tempt one to think all invisible things a delusion, and all religion a pretence. v. elsè's chronicle. eisenach, _january_, . we have passed through a terrible time; if, indeed, we are through it! the plague has been at eisenach; and, alas! is here still. fritz came home to us as usual at christmas. just before he left erfurt the plague had broken out in the university. but he did not know it. when first he came to us he seemed quite well, and was full of spirits; but on the second day he complained of cold and shivering, with pain in the head, which increased towards the evening. his eyes then began to have a fixed, dim look, and he seemed unable to speak or think long connectedly. i noticed that the mother watched him anxiously that evening; and at its close, feeling his hands feverish, she said very quietly that she should sit up in his room that night. at first he made some resistance, but he seemed too faint to insist on anything; and as he rose to go to bed, he tottered a little, and said he felt giddy, so that my mother drew his arm within hers and supported him to his room. still i did not feel anxious; but when eva and i reached our room, she said, in that quiet, convincing manner which she had even as a child, fixing her large eyes on mine,-- "cousin elsè, fritz is very ill." "i think not, eva," i said; "and no one would feel anxious about him as soon as i should. he caught a chill on his way from erfurt. you know it was late when he arrived, and snowing fast, and he was so pleased to see us, and so eager in conversation that he would not change his things. it is only a slight feverish cold. besides, our mother's manner was so calm when she wished us good night. i do not think she is anxious. she is only sitting up with him for an hour or two to see that he sleeps." "cousin elsè," replied eva, "did you not see the mother's lip quiver when she turned to wish us good night?" "no, eva," said i; "i was looking at fritz." and so we went to bed. but i thought it strange that eva, a girl of sixteen, should be more anxious than i was, and i his sister. hope is generally so strong, and fear so weak, before one has seen many fears realized, and many hopes disappointed. eva, however, had always a way of seeing into the truth of things. i was very tired with the day's work (for i always rise earlier than usual when fritz is here, to get everything done before he is about), and i must very soon have fallen asleep. it was not midnight when i was roused by the mother's touch upon my arm. the light of the lamp she held showed me a paleness in her face and an alarm in her eyes which awoke me thoroughly in an instant. "elsè," she said, "go into the boys' room and send christopher for a physician. i cannot leave fritz. but do not alarm your father!" she added, as she crept again out of the room after lighting our lamp. i called christopher, and in five minutes he was dressed and out of the house. when i returned to our room eva was sitting dressed on the bed. she had not been asleep, i saw. i think she had been praying, for she held the crucifix in her clasped hands, and there were traces of tears on her cheek, although when she raised her eyes to me, they were clear and tearless. "what is it, cousin elsè?" she said. "when i went for a moment to the door of his room he was talking. it was his voice, but with such a strange, wild tone in it. i think he heard my step, although i thought no one would, i stepped so softly, for he called 'eva, eva!' but the mother came to the door and silently motioned me away. but _you_ may go, elsè," she added, with a passionate rapidity very unusual with her. "go and see him." i went instantly. he was talking very rapidly and vehemently, and in an incoherent way it was difficult to understand. my mother sat quite still, holding his hand. his eyes were not bright as in fever, but dim and fixed. yet he was in a raging fever. his hand, when i touched it, burned like fire, and his face was flushed crimson. i stood there quite silently beside my mother until the physician came. at first fritz's eyes followed me; then they seemed watching the door for some one else; but in a few minutes the dull vacancy came over them again, and he seemed conscious of nothing. at last the physician came. he paused a moment at the door, and held a bag of myrrh before him; then advancing to the bed, he drew aside the clothes and looked at fritz's arm. "too plain!" he exclaimed, starting back as he perceived a black swelling there. "it is the plague!" my mother followed him to the door. "excuse me, madam," he said; "life is precious, and i might carry the infection into the city." "can nothing be done?" she said. "not much!" he said bluntly; and then, after a moment's hesitation, touched by the distress in her face, he returned to the bed-side. "i have touched him," he murmured, as if apologizing to himself for incurring the risk; "the mischief is done, doubtless, already." and taking out his lancet he bled my brother's arm. then, after binding up the arm, he turned to me and said,-- "get cypress and juniper wood, and burn them in a brazier in this room, with rosin and myrrh. keep your brother as warm as possible--do not let in a breath of air!" and, he added, as i followed him to the door, "on no account suffer him to sleep for a moment,[ ] and let no one come near him but you and your mother." [footnote : an approved method of treatment of the plague in those times.] when i returned to the bed-side, after obeying these directions, fritz's mind was wandering; and although we could understand little that he said, he was evidently in great distress. he seemed to have comprehended the physician's words, for he frequently repeated, "the plague! the plague! i have brought a curse upon my house!" and then he would wander, strangely calling on martin luther and eva to intercede and obtain pardon for him, as if he were invoking saints in heaven; and occasionally he would repeat fragments of latin hymns. it was dreadful to have to keep him awake; to have to rouse him, whenever he showed the least symptom of slumber, to thoughts which so perplexed and troubled his poor brain. but on the second night the mother fainted away, and i had to carry her to her room. her dear thin frame was no heavy weight to bear. i laid her on the bed in our room, which was the nearest. eva appeared at the door as i stood beside our mother. her face was as pale as death. before i could prevent it, she came up to me, and taking my hands said,-- "cousin elsè, only promise me one thing;--if he is to die, let me see him once more." "i dare not promise anything, eva," i said; "consider the infection!" "what will the infection matter to me if he dies?" she said; "i am not afraid to die." "think of the father and the children, eva," i said; "if our mother and i should be seized next, what would they do?" "chriemhild will soon be old enough to take care of them," she said very calmly; "promise me, promise me, elsè, or i will see him at once." and i promised her, and she threw her arms around me, and kissed me. then i went back to fritz, leaving eva chafing my mother's hands. it was of no avail, i thought, to try to keep her from contagion, now that she had held my hands in hers. when i came again to fritz's bed-side he was asleep! bitterly i reproached myself; but what could i have done? he was asleep--sleeping quietly, with soft, even breathing. i had not courage to awake him; but i knelt down and implored the blessed virgin and all the saints to have mercy on me and spare him. and they must have heard me; for, in spite of my failure in keeping the physician's orders, fritz began to recover from that very sleep. our grandmother says it was a miracle; "unless," she added, "the doctor was wrong!" he awoke from that sleep refreshed and calm, but weak as an infant. it was delightful to meet his eyes when first he awoke, with the look of quiet recognition in them, instead of that wild, fixed stare, or that restless wandering; to look once more into his heart through his eyes. he looked at me a long time with a quiet content, without speaking, and then he said, holding out his hand to me,-- "elsè, you have been watching long here. you look tired; go and rest." "it rests me best to look at you," i said, "and see you better." he seemed too weak to persist, and after taking some food and cooling drinks, he fell asleep again, and so did i; for the next thing i was conscious of was our mother gently placing a pillow underneath my head, which had sunk on the bed where i had been kneeling, watching fritz. i was ashamed of being such a bad nurse; but our mother insisted on my going to our room to seek rest and refreshment. and for the next few days we took it in turns to sit beside him, until he began to regain strength. then we thought he might like to see eva; but when she came to the door, he eagerly motioned her away, and said,-- "do not let her venture near me. think if i were to bring this judgment of god on her!" eva turned away, and was out of sight in an instant; but the troubled, perplexed expression came back into my brother's eyes, and the feverish flush into his face, and it was long before he seemed calm again. i followed eva. she was sitting with clasped hands in our room. "oh, elsè," she said, "how altered he is! are you sure he will live, even now?" i tried to comfort her with the hope which was naturally so much stronger in me, because i had seen him in the depths from which he was now slowly rising again to life. but something in that glimpse of him seemed to weigh on her very life; and as fritz recovered, eva seemed to grow paler and weaker, until the same feverish symptoms came over her which he had learned so to dread, and then the terrible tokens, the plague-spots, which could not be doubted, appeared on the fair, soft arms, and eva was lying with those dim, fixed, pestilence-veiled eyes, and the wandering brain. for a day we were able to conceal it from fritz, but no longer. on the second evening after eva was stricken, i found him standing by the window of his room, looking into the street. i shall never forget the expression of horror in his eyes as he turned from the window to me. "elsè," he said, "how long have those fires been burning in the streets?" "for a week," i said. "they are fires of cypress-wood and juniper, and myrrh and pine gums. the physicians say they purify the air." "i know too well what they are," he said. "and, elsè," he said, "why is master bürer's house opposite closed?" "he has lost two children," i said. "and why are those other windows closed all down the street?" he rejoined. "the people have left, brother," i said; "but the doctors hope the worst is over now." "o just god!" he exclaimed, sinking on a chair and covering his face; "i was flying from thee, and i have brought the curse on my people!" then, after a minute's pause, before i could think of any words to comfort him, he looked up, and suddenly demanded,-- "who are dead in _this_ house, elsè?" "none, none," i said. "who are stricken?" he asked. "all the children and the father are well," i said, "and the mother." "then eva is stricken!" he exclaimed--"the innocent for the guilty! she will die and be a saint in heaven, and i, who have murdered her, shall live, and shall see her no more, for ever and for ever." i could not comfort him. the strength of his agony utterly stunned me. i could only burst into tears, so that he had to try to comfort me. but he did not speak; he only took my hands in his kindly, as of old, without saying another word. at length i said-- "it is not you who brought the plague, dear fritz; it is god who sent it!" "i know it is god!" he replied, with such an intense bitterness in his tone that i did not attempt another sentence. that night eva wandered much as i watched beside her; but her delirium was quite different from that of fritz. her spirit seemed floating away on a quiet stream into some happy land we could not see. she spoke of a palace, of a home, of fields of fragrant lilies, of white-robed saints walking among them with harps and songs, and of one who welcomed her. occasionally, too, she murmured snatches of the same latin hymns that fritz had repeated in his delirium, but in a tone so different, so child-like and happy! if ever she appeared troubled, it was when she seemed to miss some one, and be searching here and there for them; but then she often ended with, "yes, i know they will come; i must wait till they come." and so at last she fell asleep, as if the thought had quieted her. i could not hinder her sleeping, whatever the physician said; she looked so placid, and had such a happy smile on her lips. only once, when she had lain thus an hour quite still, while her chest seemed scarcely to heave with her soft, tranquil breathing, i grew alarmed lest she should glide thus from us into the arms of the holy angels; and i whispered softly, "eva, dear eva!" her lips parted slightly, and she murmured-- "not yet; wait till _they_ can come." and then she turned her head again on the pillow, and slept on. she awoke quite collected and calm, and then she said quietly-- "where is the mother?" "she is resting, darling eva." she gave a little contented smile, and then, in broken words at intervals, she said-- "now, i should like to see fritz. you promised i should see him again; and now if i die, i think he would like to see me once more." i went to fetch my brother. he was pacing up and down his room, with the crucifix clasped to his breast. at first, to my surprise, he seemed very reluctant to come; but when i said how much she wished it, he followed me quite meekly into her room. eva was resuming her old command over us all. she held out her hand, with a look of such peace and rest on her face. "cousin fritz," she said at intervals, as she had strength, "you have taught me so many things; you have done so much for me! now i wish you to learn my sentence, that if i go, it may make you happy, as it does me." then very slowly and distinctly she repeated the words--"'_god so loved the world, that he gave his only son._' cousin fritz," she added, "i do not know the end of the sentence. i have not been able to find it; but you must find it. i am sure it comes from a good book, it makes me love god so much to think of it. promise me you will find it, if i should die." he promised, and she was quite satisfied. her strength seemed exhausted, and in a few moments, with my arms round her as i sat beside her, and with her hand in fritz's, she fell into a deep, quiet sleep. i felt from that time she would not die, and i whispered very softly to fritz-- "she will not die; she will recover, and you will not have killed her; you will have saved her!" but when i looked into his face, expecting to meet a thankful, happy response, i was appalled by the expression there. he stood immovable, not venturing to withdraw his hand, but with a rigid, hopeless look in his worn, pale face, which contrasted terribly with the smile of deep repose on the sleeping face on which his eyes were fixed. and so he remained until she awoke, when his whole countenance changed for an instant to return her smile. then he said softly, "god bless you, eva!" and pressing her hand to his lips, he left the room. when i saw him again that day, i said-- "fritz, you have saved eva's life! she rallied from the time she saw you." "yes," he replied, very gently, but with a strange impassiveness in his face; "i think that may be true. i have saved her." but he did not go in her room again; and the next day, to our surprise and disappointment, he said suddenly that he must leave us. he said few words of farewell to any of us, and would not see eva to take leave of her. he said it might disturb her. but when he kissed me before he went, his hands and his lips were as cold as death. yet as i watched him go down the street, he did not once turn to wave a last good-bye, as he always used to do; but slowly and steadily he went on till he was out of sight. i turned back into the house with a very heavy heart; but when i went to tell eva fritz was gone, and tried to account for his not coming to take leave of her, because i thought it would give her pain (and it does seem to me rather strange of fritz), she looked up with her quiet, trustful, contented smile, and said,-- "i am not at all pained, cousin elsè. i know fritz had good reasons for it--some good, kind reasons--because he always has; and we shall see him again as soon as he feels it right to come." vi. friedrich's story. st. sebastian, erfurt, _january_ , . the irrevocable step is taken. i have entered the augustinian cloister. i write in martin luther's cell. truly i have forsaken father and mother, and all that was dearest to me, to take refuge at the foot of the cross. i have sacrificed everything on earth to my vocation, and yet the conflict is not over. i seem scarcely more certain of my vocation now than while i remained in the world. doubts buzz around me like wasps, and sting me on every side. the devil, transforming himself into an angel of light, perplexes me with the very words of scripture. the words of martin luther's father recur to me, as if spoken by a divine voice, "honour thy father and thy mother!" echoes back to me from the chants of the choir, and seems written everywhere on the white walls of my cell. and, besides the thunder of these words of god, tender voices seem to call me back by every plea of duty, not to abandon them to fight the battle of life alone. elsè calls me from the old lumber-room, "fritz' brother! who is to tell me now what to do?" my mother does not call me back; but i seem ever to see her tearful eyes, full of reproach and wonder which she tries to repress, lifted up to heaven for strength; and her worn, pale face, growing more wan every day. in one voice and one face only i seem never to hear or see reproach or recall; and yet, heaven forgive me, those pure and saintly eyes which seem only to say, "go on, cousin fritz, god will help thee, and i will pray!"--those sweet, trustful, heavenly eyes, draw me back to the world with more power than anything else. is it, then, too late? have i lingered in the world so long that my heart can never more be torn from it? is this the punishment of my guilty hesitation, that, though i have given my body to the cloister, god will not have my soul, which evermore must hover like a lost spirit about the scenes it was too reluctant to leave? shall i evermore, when i lift my eyes to heaven, see all that is pure and saintly there embodied for me in a face which it is deadly sin for me to remember? yet i have saved her life! if i brought the curse on my people by my sin, was not my obedience accepted? from the hour when, in my room alone, after hearing that eva was stricken, i prostrated myself before god, and not daring to take his insulted name on my lips, approached him through his martyred saint, and said, "holy sebastian, by the arrows which pierced thy heart, ward off the arrows of pestilence from my home, and i will become a monk, and change my own guilty name for thine,"--from that moment did not eva begin to recover, and from that time were not all my kindred unscathed? "cadent a latere tuo mille, et decem millia a dextris tuis; ad te autem non approprinquabit." were not the words literally fulfilled; and while many still fell around us, was one afterwards stricken in my home? holy sebastian, infallible protector against pestilence, by thy firmness when accused, confirm my wavering will; by thy double death, save me from the second death; by the arrows which could not slay thee, thou hast saved us from the arrow that flieth by day; by the cruel blows which sent thy spirit from the circus to paradise, strengthen me against the blows of satan; by thy body rescued from ignominious sepulture and laid in the catacombs among the martyrs, raise me from the filth of sin; by thy generous pleading for thy fellow sufferers amidst thine own agonies, help me to plead for those who suffer with me; and by all thy sorrows, and merits, and joys, plead--oh plead for me, who henceforth bear thy name! st. scholastica, _february_ . i have been a month in the monastery. yesterday my first probation was over, and i was invested with the white garments of the novitiate. the whole of the brotherhood were assembled in the church, when, kneeling before the prior, he asked me solemnly whether i thought my strength sufficient for the burden i purposed to take on myself. in a low, grave voice, he reminded me what those burdens are--the rough plain clothing; the abstemious living; the broken rest and long vigils; the toils in the service of the order; the reproach and poverty; the humiliations of the mendicant; and, above all, the renunciation of self-will and individual glory, to be a member of the order, bound to do whatever the superiors command, and to go whithersoever they direct. "with god for my help," i could venture to say, "of this will i make trial." then the prior replied,-- "we receive thee, therefore, on probation for one year; and may god, who has begun a good work in thee, carry it on unto perfection." the whole brotherhood responded in a deep amen, and then all the voices joined in the hymn,-- "magna pater augustine, preces nostras suscipe, et per eas conditori nos placare satage. atque rege gregem tuum, summum decus præsulum. amatorem paupertatis, te collaudant pauperes; assertorem veritatis amant veri judices; frangis nobis favos mellis de scripturis disserens. quæ obscura prius erant nobis plana faciens, tu de verbis salvatoris dulcem panem conficis, et propinas potum vitæ de psalmorum nectare. tu de vita clericorum sanctam scribis regulam, quam qui amant et sequunter viam tenent regiam, atque tuo sancto ductu redeunt ad patriam. regi regum salis, vita, decus et emperium; trinitati laus et honor sit per omne sæculum, qui concives nos ascribat supernorum civium."[ ] [footnote : "great father augustine, receive our prayers, and through them effectually reconcile the creator; and rule thy flock, the highest glory of rulers. the poor praise thee, lover of poverty; true judges love thee, defender of truth; breaking the honeycomb of the honey of scripture, thou distributest it to us. making smooth to us what before was obscure; thou, from the words of the saviour, furnishest us with wholesome bread, and givest to drink draughts of life from the nectar of the psalms. thou writest the holy rule for the life of priests, which, whosoever love and follow, keep the royal road, and by thy holy leading return to their fatherland. salvation to the king of kings, life, glory, and dominion; honour and praise be to the trinity throughout all ages, to him who declareth us to be fellow-citizens with the citizens of heaven."] as the sacred words were chanted, they mingled strangely in my mind with the ceremonies of the investiture. my hair was shorn with the clerical tonsure; my secular dress was laid aside; the garments of the novice were thrown on; and i was girded with the girdle of rope, whilst the prior murmured softly to me, that with the new robes i must put on the new man. then, as the last notes of the hymn died away, i knelt and bowed low to receive the prior's blessing, invoked in these words:-- "may god who hath converted this young man from the world, and given him a mansion in heaven, grant that his daily walk may be as becometh his calling; and that he may have cause to be thankful for what has this day been done." versicles were then chanted responsively by the monks, who, forming in procession, moved towards the choir, where we all prostrated ourselves in silent prayer. after this they conducted me to the great hall of the cloister, where all the brotherhood bestowed on me the kiss of peace. once more i knelt before the prior, who reminded me that he who persevereth to the end shall be saved; and gave me over to the direction of the preceptor, whom the new vicar-general staupitz has ordered to be appointed to each novice. thus the first great ceremony of my monastic life is over, and it has left me with a feeling of blank and disappointment. it has made no change that i can feel in my heart. it has not removed the world further off from me. it has only raised another impassable barrier between me and all that was dearest to me;--impassable as an ocean without ships, infrangible as the strongest iron, i am determined my _will_ shall make it; but to my _heart_, alas! thin as gossamer, since every faintest, wistful tone of love, which echoes from the past, can penetrate it and pierce me with sorrow. my preceptor is very strict in enforcing the rules order. trespasses against the rules are divided into four classes,--small, great, greater, and greatest, to each of which is assigned a different degree of penance. among the smaller are, failing to go to church as soon as the sign is given, forgetting to touch the ground instantly with the hand and to smite the breast if in reading in the choir or in singing the least error is committed; looking about during the service; omitting prostration at the annunciation or at christmas; neglecting the benediction in coming in or going out; failing to return books or garments to their proper places; dropping food; spilling drink; forgetting to say grace before eating. among the great trespasses are: contending, breaking the prescribed silence at fasts, and looking at women, or speaking to them, except in brief replies. the minute rules are countless. it is difficult at first to learn the various genuflexions, inclinations, and prostrations. the novices are never allowed to converse except in presence of the prior, are forbidden to take any notice of visitors, are enjoined to walk with downcast eyes, to read the scriptures diligently, to bow low in receiving every gift, and say, "the lord be praised in his gifts." how brother martin, with his free, bold, daring nature, bore those minute restrictions, i know not. to me there is a kind of dull, deadening relief in them, they distract my thoughts, or prevent my thinking. yet it must be true, my obedience will aid my kindred more than all my toil could ever have done whilst disobediently remaining in the world. it is not a selfish seeking of my own salvation and ease which has brought me here, whatever some may think and say, as they did of martin luther. i think of that ship in the picture at magdeburg he so often told me of. am i not in it,--actually _in_ it _now_? and shall i not hereafter, when my strength is recovered from the fatigue of reaching it, hope to lean over and stretch out my arms to them, still struggling in the waves of this bitter world? and save them! save them; yes, save their souls! did not my vow save precious lives? and shall not my fastings, vigils, disciplines, prayers be as effectual for their souls? and, then, hereafter, in heaven, where those dwell who, in virgin purity, have followed the lamb, shall i not lean over the jasper-battlements and help them from purgatory up the steep sides of paradise, and be first at the gate to welcome them in! and then, in paradise, where love will no longer be in danger of becoming sin, may we not be together for ever and for ever? and then, shall i regret that i abandoned the brief polluted joys of earth for the pure joys of eternity? shall i lament _then_ that i chose, according to my vocation, to suffer apart from them that their souls might be saved, rather than to toil with them for the perishing body? then! _then!_ i, a saint in the city of god! i, a hesitating, sinful novice in the augustinian monastery at erfurt, who, after resisting for years, have at last yielded up my body to the cloister, but have no more power than ever to yield up my heart to god! yet i am _in_ the sacred vessel; the rest will surely follow. do all monks have such a conflict? no doubt the devil fights hard for every fresh victim he loses. it is, it must be, the devil who beckons me through those dear faces, who calls me through those familiar voices; for _they_ would never call me back. they would hide their pain, and say, "go to god, if he calls thee; leave us and go to god." elsè, my mother, all would say that; if their hearts broke in trying to say it! had martin luther such thoughts in this very cell? if they are from the evil one, i think he had, for his assaults are strongest against the noblest; and yet i scarcely think he can have had such weak doubts as these which haunt me. he was not one of those who draw back to perdition; nor even of those who, having put their hand to the plough, _look_ back, as i, alas! am so continually doing. and what does the scripture say of such?--"they are not fit for the kingdom of god." no exception, no reserve--monk, priest, saint; if a man _look_ back, he is not fit for the kingdom of god. then what becomes of my hopes of paradise, or of acquiring merits which may aid others? _turn back_, draw back, i will _never_, although all the devils were to drive me, or all the world entice me, but _look_ back, who can help that? if a look can kill, what can save? mortification, crucifixion, not for a day, but daily;--i must die daily; i must be _dead_--dead to the world. this cell must to me be as a tomb, where all that was most living in my heart must die and be buried. was it so to martin luther? is the cloister that to those bands of rosy, comfortable monks, who drink beer from great cans, and feast on the best of the land, and fast on the choicest fish? the tempter! the tempter again! judge not, and ye shall not be judged. st. eulalia, erfurt, _february_ , . to-day one of the older monks came to me, seeing me, i suppose, look downcast and sad, and said, "fear not, brother sebastian, the strife is often hard at first; but remember the words of st. jerome: 'though thy father should lie before thy door weeping and lamenting, though thy mother should show thee the body that bore thee, and the breasts that nursed thee, see that thou trample them under foot, and go on straightway to christ.'" i bowed my head, according to rule, in acknowledgment of his exhortation, and i suppose he thought his words comforted and strengthened me; but heaven knows the conflict they awakened in my heart when i sat alone to-night in my cell. "cruel, bitter, wicked words!" my earthly heart would say; my sinful heart, that vigils, scourging, scarcely death itself, i fear, can kill. surely, at least, the holy father jerome spoke of heathen fathers and mothers. my mother would not show her anguish to win me back; she would say, "my son, my first-born, god bless thee; i give thee freely up to god." does she not say so in this letter which i have in her handwriting,--which i have and dare not look at, because of the storm of memories it brings rushing on my heart? is there a word of reproach or remonstrance in her letter? if there were, i would read it; it would strengthen me. the saints had that to bear. it is because those holy, tender words echo in my heart, from a voice weak with feeble health, that day by day and hour by hour, my heart goes back to the home at eisenach, and sees them toiling unaided in the daily struggle for bread, to which i have abandoned them, unsheltered and alone. then at times the thought comes, am i, after all, a dreamer, as i have sometimes ventured to think my father,--neglecting my plain, daily task for some atlantis? and if my atlantis is in paradise instead of beyond the ocean, does that make so much difference? if brother martin were only here, he might understand and help me; but he has now been nearly two years at wittemberg, where he is, they say, to lecture on theology at the elector's new university, and to be preacher. the monks seem nearly as proud of him as the university of erfurt was. yet, perhaps, after all, he might _not_ understand my perplexities. his nature was so firm and straightforward and strong. he would probably have little sympathy with wavering hearts and troubled consciences like mine. _march_ .--ss. perpetua and felicitas.-- erfurt, augustinian cloister. to-day i have been out on my first quest for alms. it seemed very strange at first to be begging at familiar doors, with the frock and the convent sack on my shoulders; but although i tottered a little at times under the weight as it grew heavy (for the plague and fasting have left me weak), i returned to the cloister feeling better and easier in mind, and more hopeful as to my vocation, than i had done for some days. perhaps, however, the fresh air had something to do with it, and, after all, it was only a little bodily exultation. but certainly such bodily loads and outward mortifications are not the burdens which weigh the spirit down. there seemed a luxury in the half-scornful looks of some of my former fellow-students, and in the contemptuous tossing to me of scraps of meat by some grudging hands; just as a tight pressure, which, in itself would be pain were we at ease, is relief to severe pain. perhaps, also, o holy perpetua and felicitas, whose day it is, and especially thou, o holy perpetua, who, after encouraging thy sons to die for christ, was martyred thyself, hast pleaded for my forsaken mother and for me, and sendest me this day some ray of hope. st. joseph.--_march_ .-- augustinian cloister, erfurt. st. joseph, whom i have chosen to be one of the twenty-one patrons whom i especially honour, hear and aid me to-day. thou whose glory it was to have no glory, but meekly to aid others to win their higher crowns, give me also some humble place on high; and not to me alone, but to those also whom i have left still struggling in the stormy seas of this perilous world. here, in the sacred calm of the cloister, surely at length the heart must grow calm, and cease to beat except with the life of the universal church,--the feasts in the calendar becoming its events. but when will that be to me? _march_ . has brother martin attained this repose yet? an aged monk sat with me in my cell yesterday, who told me strange tidings of him, which have given me some kind of bitter comfort. it seems that the monastic life did not at once bring repose into his heart. this aged monk was brother martin's confessor, and he has also been given to me for mine. in his countenance there is such a peace as i long for;--not a still, death-like peace, as if he had fallen into it after the conflict; but a living, kindly peace, as if he had won it through the conflict, and enjoyed it even while the conflict lasted. it does not seem to me that brother martin's scruples and doubts were exactly like mine. indeed, my confessor says that in all the years he has exercised his office, he has never found two troubled hearts troubled exactly alike. i do not know that brother martin doubted his vocation, or looked back to the world; but he seems to have suffered agonies of inward torture. his conscience was so quick and tender, that the least sin wounded him as if it had been the grossest crime. he invoked the saints most devoutly--choosing, as i have done from his example, twenty-one saints, and invoking three every day, so as to honour each every week. he read mass every day, and had an especial devotion for the blessed virgin. he wasted his body with fastings and watching. he never intentionally violated the minutest rule of the order; and yet the more he strove, the more wretched he seemed to be. like a musician whose ear is cultivated to the highest degree, the slightest discord was torture to him. can it then be god's intention that the growth of our spiritual life is only growing sensitiveness to pain? is this true growth?--or is it that monstrous development of one faculty at the expense of others, which is deformity or disease? the confessor said thoughtfully, when i suggested this-- "the world is out of tune, my son, and the heart is out of tune. the more our souls vibrate truly to the music of heaven, the more, perhaps, they must feel the discords of earth. at least it was so with brother martin; until at last, omitting a prostration or a genuflexion would weigh on his conscience like a crime. once, after missing him for some time, we went to the door of his cell, and knocked. it was barred, and all our knocking drew no response. we broke open the door at last, and found him stretched senseless on the floor. we only succeeded in reviving him by strains of sacred music, chanted by the choristers, whom we brought to his cell. he always dearly loved music, and believed it to have a strange potency against the wiles of the devil." "he must have suffered grievously," i said. "i suppose it is by such sufferings merit is acquired to aid others." "he did suffer agonies of mind," replied the old monk. "often he would walk up and down the cold corridors for nights together." "did nothing comfort him?" i asked. "yes, my son; some words i once said to him comforted him greatly. once, when i found him in an agony of despondency in his cell, i said, 'brother martin, dost thou believe in "the forgiveness of sins," as saith the creed?' his face lighted up at once." "the forgiveness of sins!" i repeated slowly. "father, i also believe in that. but forgiveness only follows on contrition, confession, and penance. how can i ever be sure that i have been sufficiently contrite, that i have made an honest and complete confession, or that i have performed my penance aright?" "ah, my son," said the old man, "these were exactly brother martin's perplexities, and i could only point him to the crucified lord, and remind him again of the forgiveness of sins. all we do is incomplete, and when the blessed lord says he forgiveth sins, i suppose he means the sins of _sinners_, who sin in their confession as in everything else. my son, he is more compassionate than you think, perhaps than any of us think. at least this is my comfort; and if, when i stand before him at last, i find i have made a mistake, and thought him more compassionate than he is, i trust he will pardon me. it can scarcely, i think, grieve him so much as declaring him to be a hard master would." i did not say anything more to the old man. his words so evidently were strength and joy to him, that i could not venture to question them further. to me, also, they have given a gleam of hope. and yet, if the way is not rough and difficult, and if it is not a hard thing to please almighty god, why all those severe rules and renunciations--those heavy penances for trifling offences? merciful we know he is. but the emperor may be merciful; and yet, if a peasant were to attempt to enter the imperial presence without the prescribed forms, would he not be driven from the palace with curses, at the point of the sword? and what are those rules at the court of heaven? if perfect purity of heart and life, who can lay claim to that? if a minute attention to the rules of an order such as this of st. augustine, who can be sure of having never failed in this? the inattention which caused the neglect would probably let it glide from the memory. and then, what is the worth of confession? christ is the saviour, but only of those who follow him. there _is_ forgiveness of sins, but only for those who make adequate confession. i, alas! have not followed him fully. what priest on earth can assure me i have ever confessed fully? therefore i see him merciful, gracious, holy--a saviour, but seated on a high throne, where i can never be sure petitions of mine will reach him; and, alas! one day to be seated on a great white throne, whence it is too sure his summoning voice will reach me. mary, mother of god, virgin of virgins, mother of divine grace--holy sebastian and all martyrs--great father augustine and all holy doctors, intercede for me, that my penances may be accepted as a satisfaction for my sins, and may pacify my judge. _march_ .--annunciation of the holy virgin. my preceptor has put into my hands the bible bound in red morocco which brother martin, he says, used to read so much. i am to study it in all the intervals which the study of the fathers, expeditions for begging, the services of the church, and the menial offices in the house which fall to the share of novices, allow. these are not many. i have never had a bible in my hands before, and the hours pass quickly indeed in my cell which i can spend in reading it. the preceptor, when he comes to call me for the midnight service, often finds me still reading. it is very different from what i expected. there is nothing oratorical in it, there are no laboured disquisitions, and no minute rules, at least in the new testament. i wish sometimes i had lived in the old jewish times, when there was one temple wherein to worship, certain definite feasts to celebrate, certain definite ceremonial rules to keep. if i could have stood in the temple courts on that great day of atonement, and seen the victim slain, and watched till the high priest came out from the holy place with his hands lifted up in benediction, i should have known absolutely that god was satisfied, and returned to my home in peace. yes, to my _home_! there were no monasteries, apparently, in those jewish times. family life was god's appointment then, and family affections had his most solemn sanctions. in the new testament, on the contrary, i cannot find any of those definite rules. it is all addressed to the heart; and who can make the heart right? i suppose it is the conviction of this which has made the church since then restore many minute rules and discipline, in imitation of the jewish ceremonial; for in the gospels and epistles i can find no ritual, ceremonial, or definite external rules of any kind. what advantage, then, has the new testament over the old? christ has come. "god so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son." this _ought_ surely to make a great difference between us and the jews. but how? _april_ .--st. gregory of nyssa. i have found, in my reading to-day, the end of eva's sentence--"god so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, _that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life_." how simple the words are!--"believeth;" that would mean, in any other book, "trusteth," "has reliance" in christ;--simply to confide in him, and then receive his promise not to perish. but _here_--in this book, in theology--it is necessarily impossible that believing can mean anything so simple as that; because, at that rate, any one who merely came to the lord jesus christ in confiding trust would have everlasting life, without any further conditions; and this is obviously out of the question. for what can be more simple than to confide in one worthy of confidence? and what can be greater than everlasting life? and yet we know, from all the teaching of the doctors and fathers of the church, that nothing is more difficult than obtaining everlasting life; and that, for this reason, monastic orders, pilgrimages, penances, have been multiplied from century to century; for this reason saints have forsaken every earthly joy, and inflicted on themselves every possible torment;--all to obtain everlasting life, which, if this word "believeth" meant here what it would mean anywhere but in theology, would be offered freely to every petitioner. wherefore it is clear that "believeth," in the scriptures, means something entirely different from what it does in any secular book, and must include contrition, confession, penance, satisfaction, mortification of the flesh, and all else necessary to salvation. shall i venture to send this end of eva's sentence to her? it might mislead her. dare i for her sake?--dare i still more for my own? one hour i have sat before this question; and whither has my heart wandered? what confession can retrace the flood of bitter thoughts which have rushed over me in this one hour? i had watched her grow from childhood into early womanhood; and until these last months, until that week of anguish, i had thought of her as a creature between a child and an angel. i had loved her as a sister who had yet a mystery and a charm about her different from a sister. only when it seemed that death might separate us did it burst upon me that there was something in my affection for her which made her not one among others, but in some strange sacred sense the only one on earth to me. and as i recovered came the hopes i must never more recall, which made all life like the woods in spring, and my heart like a full river set free from its ice-fetters, and flowing through the world in a tide of blessing. i thought of a home which might be, i thought of a sacrament which should transubstantiate all life into a symbol of heaven, a home which was to be peaceful and sacred as a church, because of the meek and pure, and heavenly creature who should minister and reign there. an then came to me that terrible vision of a city smitten by the pestilence which i had brought, with the recollection of the impulse i had had in the forest at midnight, and more than once since then, to take the monastic vows. i felt i was like jonah flying from god; yet still i hesitated until she was stricken. and then i yielded. i vowed if she were saved i would become a monk. not till she was stricken, whose loss would have made the whole world a blank to me: not till the sacrifice was worthless,--did i make it! and will god accept such a sacrifice as this? at least brother martin had not this to reproach himself with. he did not delay his conversion until his whole being had become possessed by an image no prayers can erase; nay, which prayer and holy meditations on heaven itself, only rivet on the heart, as the purest reflection of heaven memory can recall. brother martin, at least did not trifle with his vocation until too late. vii. elsè's story. _january_ . it is too plain now why fritz would not look back as he went down the street. he thought it would be looking back from the kingdom of god. the kingdom of god, then, is the cloister, and the world, _we_ are that!--father, mother, brothers, sisters, friends, home, that is the world! i shall never understand it. for if all my younger brothers say is true, either all the priests and monks are not in the kingdom of god, or the kingdom of god is strangely governed here on earth. fritz was helping us all so much. he would have been the stay of our parents' old age. he was the example and admiration of the boys, and the pride and delight of us all; and to _me_! my heart grows so bitter when i write about it, i seem to hate and reproach every one. every one but fritz; i cannot, of course, hate him. but why was all that was gentlest and noblest in him made to work towards this last dreadful step? if our father had only been more successful, fritz need not have entered on that monastic foundation at erfurt, which made his conscience so sensitive; if my mother had only not been so religious, and taught us to reverence aunt agnes as so much better than herself, he might never have thought of the monastic life; if i had been more religious he might have confided more in me, and i might have induced him to pause, at least, a few years before taking this unalterable step. if eva had not been so wilful, and insisted on braving the contagion from me, she might never have been stricken, and that vow might not yet, might never have been taken. if god had not caused him so innocently to bring the pestilence among us! but i must not dare to say another word of complaint, or it will become blasphemy. doubtless it is god who has willed to bring all this misery on us; and to rebel against god is a deadly sin. as aunt agnes said, "the lord is a jealous god," he will not suffer us to make idols. we must love him best, first, alone. we must make a great void in our heart by renouncing all earthly affections, that he may fill it. we must mortify the flesh, that we may live. what, then, is the flesh? i suppose all our natural affections, which the monks call our fleshly lusts. these fritz has renounced. then if all our natural affections are to die in us, what is to live in us? the "spiritual life," they say in some of the sermons, and "the love of god." but are not my natural affections my _heart_; and if i am not to love god with my heart, with the heart with which i love my father and mother, what am i to love him with? it seems to me, the love of god to us is something quite different from any human being's love to us. when human beings love us they like to have us with them; they delight to make us happy; they delight in our being happy, whether they make us so or not, if it is a right happiness, a happiness that does us good. but with god's love it must be quite different. he warns us not on any account to come too near him. we have to place priests, and saints, and penances between us and him, and then approach him with the greatest caution, lest, after all, it should be in the wrong way, and he should be angry. and, instead of delighting in our happiness, he is never so much pleased as when we renounce all the happiness of our life, and make other people wretched in doing so, as fritz, our own fritz, has just done. therefore, also, no doubt, the love god requires we should feel for him is something entirely different from the love we give each other. it must, i suppose, be a serious, severe, calm adoration, too sublime to give either joy or sorrow, such as had left its stamp on aunt agnes's grave impassive face. i can never, never even attempt to attain to it. certainly at present i have no time to think of it. thank heaven, thou livest still, mother of mercy! in _thy_ face there have been tears, real, bitter, human tears; in _thine_ eyes there have been smiles of joy, real, simple, human joy. thou wilt understand and have pity. yet oh, couldst not thou, even thou, sweet mother, have reminded him of the mother he has left to battle on alone? thou who art a mother, and didst bend over a cradle, and hadst a little lowly home at nazareth once? but i know my own mother would not even herself have uttered a word to keep fritz back. when first we heard of it, and i entreated her to write and remonstrate, although the tears were streaming from her eyes, she said, "not a word, elsè, not a syllable. shall not i give my son up freely to him who gave him to me. god might have called him away from earth altogether when he lay smitten with the plague, and shall i grudge him to the cloister? i shall see him again," she added, "once or twice at least. when he is consecrated priest, shall i not have joy then, and see him in his white robes at the altar, and, perhaps, even receive my creator from his hands!" "once or twice!--o mother!" i sobbed, "and in church, amongst hundreds of others! what pleasure will there be in that?" "elsè," she said softly, but with a firmness unusual with her, "my child, do not say another word. once i myself had some faint inclination to the cloister, which, if i had nourished it, might have grown into a vocation. but i saw your father, and i neglected it. and see what troubles my children have to bear! has there not also been a kind of fatal spell on all your father's inventions? perhaps god will at last accept from me in my son what i withheld in myself, and will be pacified towards us, and send us better days; and then your father's great invention will be completed yet. but do not say anything of what i told you to him!" i have never seen our father so troubled about anything. "just as he was able to understand my projects!" he said, "and i would have bequeathed them all to him!" for some days he never touched a model! but now he has crept back to his old follies and his instruments, and tells us there was something in fritz's horoscope which might have prepared us for this, had he only understood it a little before. however, this discovery, although too late to warn us of the blow, consoles our father, and he has resumed his usual occupations. eva looks very pale and fragile, partly, no doubt, from the effects of the pestilence; but when first the rumour reached us, i sought some sympathy from her, and said, "o eva, how strange it seems, when fritz always thought of us before himself, to abandon us all thus without one word of warning." "cousin elsè," she said, "fritz has done now as he always does. he _has_ thought of us first, i am as sure of it as if i could hear him say so. he thought he would serve us best by leaving us thus, or he would never have left us." she understood him best of all, as she so often does. when his letter came to our mother, it gave just the reasons she had often told me she was sure had moved him. it is difficult to tell what eva feels, because of that strange inward peace in her which seems always to flow under all her other feelings. i have not seen her shed any tears at all; and whilst i can scarcely bear to enter our dear old lumber-room, or to do anything i did with him, her great delight seems to be to read every book he liked, and to learn and repeat every hymn she learned with him. eva and the mother cling very closely together. she will scarcely let my mother do any household work, but insists on sharing every laborious task which hitherto we have kept her from, because of her slight and delicate frame. it is true i rise early to save them all the work i can, because they have neither of them half the strength i have, and i enjoy stirring about. thoughts come so much more bitterly on me when i am sitting still. but when i am kneading the dough, or pounding the clothes with stones in the stream on washing-days, i feel as i were pounding at all my perplexities; and that makes my hands stronger and my perplexities more shadowy, until even now i find myself often singing as i am wringing the clothes by the stream. it is so pleasant in the winter sunshine, with the brook babbling among the rushes and cresses, and little thekla prattling by my side, and pretending to help. but when i have finished my day's work, and come into the house, i find the mother and eva sitting close side by side; and perhaps eva is silent and my mother brushes tears away as they fall on her knitting; but when they look up, their faces are calm and peaceful, and then i know they have been talking about fritz. eisenach, _february_ . yesterday afternoon i found eva translating a latin hymn he loved, to our mother, and then she sang it through in her sweet clear voice. it was about the dear, dear country in heaven, and jerusalem the golden. in the evening i said to her-- "o eva, how can you bear to sing the hymns fritz loved so dearly? i could not sing a line steadily of any song he had cared to hear me sing! and he delighted always so much to listen to you. his voice would echo 'never, never more' to every note i sung, and the songs would all end in sobs." "but i do not feel separated from fritz, cousin elsè," she said, "and i never shall. instead of hearing that melancholy chant you think of, 'never, never more' echo from all the hymns he loved, i always seem to hear his voice responding, 'for ever and for evermore.' and i think of the time when we shall sing them together again." "do you mean in heaven, eva?" i said, "that is so very far off, if we ever reach it--" "not so very far off, cousin elsè," she said. "i often think it is very near. if it were not so, how could the angels be so much with us and yet with god?" "but life seems so long, now fritz is gone." "not so very long, cousin elsè," she said. "i often think it may be very short, and often i pray it may." "eva!" i exclaimed, "you surely do not pray that you may die?" "why not?" she said, very quietly. "i think if god took us to himself, we might help those we love better there than at eisenach, or perhaps even in the convent. and it is there we shall meet again, and there are never any partings. my father told me so," she added, "before he died." then i understood how eva mourns for fritz, and why she does not weep; but i could only say-- "o eva, do not pray to die. there are all the saints in heaven: and you help us so much more here!" _february_ . i cannot feel at all reconciled to losing fritz, nor do i think i ever shall. like all the other troubles, it was no doubt meant to do me good; but it does me none, i am sure, although of course, that is my fault. what did me good was being happy, as i was when fritz came back; and that is passed for ever. my great comfort is our grandmother. the mother and eva look on everything from such sublime heights; but my grandmother feels more as i do. often, indeed, she speaks very severely of fritz, which always does me good, because, of course, i defend him, and then she becomes angry, and says we are an incomprehensible family, and have the strangest ideas of right and wrong, from my father downward, she ever heard of; and then i grow angry, and say my father is the best and wisest man in the electoral states. then our grandmother begins to lament over her poor, dear daughter, and the life she has led, and rejoices, in a plaintive voice, that she herself has nearly done with the world altogether; and then i try to comfort her, and say that i am sure there is not much in the world to make any one wish to stay in it; and, having reached this point of despondency, we both cry and embrace each other, and she says i am a poor, good child, and fritz was always the delight of her heart, which i know very well;--and thus we comfort each other. we have, moreover, solemnly resolved, our grandmother and i, that, whatever comes of it, we will never call fritz anything but fritz. "brother sebastian, indeed!" she said, "your mother might as well take a new husband as your brother a new name! was not she married, and was not he christened in church? is not friedrich a good, honest name, which hundreds of your ancestors have borne? and shall we call him instead a heathen foreign name, that none of your kindred were ever known by?" "not heathen, grandmother," i ventured to suggest. "you remember telling us of the martyrdom of st. sebastian by the heathen emperor?" "do you contradict me, child?" she exclaimed. "did i not know the whole martyrology before your mother was born? i say it is a heathen name. no blame to the saint if his parents were poor benighted pagans, and knew no better name to give him; but that our fritz should adopt it instead of his own is a disgrace. my lips at least are too old to learn such new fashioned nonsense. i shall call him the name i called him at the font and in his cradle, and no other." yes, fritz! fritz! he is to us, and shall be always. fritz in our hearts till death! _february_ . we have just heard that fritz has finished his first month of probation, and has been invested with the frock of the novice. i hate to think of his thick, dark, waving hair clipped in the circle of the tonsure. but the worst part of it is the effect of his becoming a monk has had on the other boys, christopher and pollux. they, who before this thought fritz the model of everything good and great, seem repelled from all religion now. i have difficulty even in getting them to church. christopher said to me the other day-- "elsè, why is a man who suddenly deserts his family to become a soldier called a villain, while the man who deserts those who depend on him to become a monk is called a saint?" it is very unfortunate the boys should come to me with their religious perplexities, because i am so perplexed myself, i have no idea how to answer them. i generally advise them to ask eva. this time i could only say, as our grandmother had so often said to me,-- "you must wait till you are older, and then you will understand." but i added, "of course it is quite different: one leaves his home for god, and the other for the world." but christopher is the worst, and he continued,-- "sister elsè, i do not like the monks at all. you and eva and our mother have no idea how wicked many of them are. reinhardt says he has seen them drunk often, and heard them swear, and that some of them make a jest even of the mass, and that the priests' houses are not fit for any honest maiden to visit, and,-- "reinhardt is a bad boy," i said, colouring; "and i have often told you i do not want to hear anything he says." "but i, at all events, shall never become a monk or a priest," retorted christopher; "i think the merchants are better. woman cannot understand about these things," he added, loftily, "and it is better they should not; but i know; and i intend to be a merchant or a soldier." christopher and pollux are fifteen, and fritz is two-and-twenty; but _he_ never talked in that lofty way to me about women not understanding! it did make me indignant to hear christopher, who is always tearing his clothes, and getting into scrapes, and perplexing us to get him out of them, comparing himself with fritz, and looking down on his sisters; and i said, "it is only _boys_ who talk scornfully of women. men, true men, honour women." "the monks do not!" retorted christopher. "i have heard them say things myself worse than i have ever said about any woman. only last sunday, did not father boniface say half the mischief in the world had been done by women, from eve to helen and cleopatra?" "do not mention our mother eve with those heathens, christopher," said our grandmother, coming to my rescue, from her corner by the stove. "eve is in the holy scriptures, and many of these pagans are not fit for people to speak of. half the saints are women, you know very well. peasants and traders," she added sublimely, "may talk slightingly of women; but no man can be a true knight who does." "the monks do!" muttered christopher doggedly. "i have nothing to say about the monks," rejoined our grandmother tartly. and accepting this imprudent concession of our grandmother's christopher retired from the contest. _march_ . i have just been looking at two letters addressed to father johann braun, one of our eisenach priests, by martin luther. they were addressed to him as "the holy and venerable priest of christ and of mary." so much i could understand, and also that he calls himself brother martin luther, not brother augustine, a name he assumed on first entering the cloister. therefore certainly, i may call our fritz, brother friedrich cotta. _march_ , . a young man was at aunt ursula cotta's this evening, who told us strange things about the doings at annaberg. dr. tetzel has been there two years, selling the papal indulgences to the people; and lately, out of regard, he says, to the great piety of the german people, he has reduced their price. there was a great deal of discussion about it, which i rather regretted the boys were present to hear. my father said indulgences did not mean forgiveness of sins, but only remission of certain penances which the church had imposed. but the young man from annaberg told us that dr. john tetzel solemnly assured the people, that since it was impossible for them, on account of their sins, to make satisfaction to god by their works, our holy father the pope, who has the control of all the treasury of merits accumulated by the church throughout the ages, now graciously sells those merits to any who will buy, and thereby bestows on them forgiveness of sins (even of sins which no other priest can absolve), and a certain entrance into eternal life. the young man said, also, that the great red cross has been erected in the nave of the principal church, with the crown of thorns, the nails, and spear suspended from it, and that at times it has been granted to the people even to see the blood of the crucified flow from the cross. beneath this cross are the banners of the church, and the papal standard, with the triple crown. before it is the large, strong iron money chest. on one side stands the pulpit, where dr. tetzel preaches daily, and exhorts the people to purchase this inestimable favour while yet there is time, for themselves and their relations in purgatory,--and translates the long parchment mandate of the lord pope, with the papal seals hanging from it. on the other side is a table, where sit several priests, with pen, ink, and writing desk, selling the indulgence tickets, and counting the money into boxes. lately he told us, not only have the prices been reduced, but at the end of the letter affixed to the churches, it is added, "_pauperibus dentur gratis_." "freely to the poor!" that certainly would suit us! and if i had only time to make a pilgrimage to annaberg, if this is the kind of religion that pleases god, it certainly might be attainable even for me. if fritz had only known it before, he need not have made that miserable vow. a journey to annaberg would have more than answered the purpose. only, if the pope has such inestimable treasures at his disposal, why could he not always give them "freely to the poor," always and everywhere? but i know it is a sin to question what the lord pope does. i might almost as well question what the lord god almighty does. for he also, who gave those treasures to the pope, is he not everywhere, and could he not give them freely to us direct? it is plain these are questions too high for me. i am not the only one perplexed by those indulgences, however. my mother says it is not the way she was taught, and she had rather keep to the old paths. eva said, "if i were the lord pope, and had such a treasure, i think i could not help instantly leaving my palace and my beautiful rome, and going over the mountains and over the seas, into every city and every village; every hut in the forests, and every room in the lowest streets, that none might miss the blessing, although i had to walk barefoot, and never saw holy rome again." "but then," said our father, "the great church at st. peter's would never be built. it is on that, you know, the indulgence money is to be spent." "but jerusalem the golden would be built, uncle cotta!" said eva; "and would not that be better?" "we had better not talk about it, eva," said the mother. "the holy jerusalem _is_ being built; and i suppose there are many different ways to the same end. only i like the way i know best." the boys, i regret to say, had made many irreverent gestures during this conversation about the indulgences, and afterwards i had to speak to them. "sister elsè," said christopher, "it is quite useless talking to me. i hate the monks, and all belonging to them. and i do not believe a word they say--at least, not because they say it. the boys at school say this dr. tetzel is a very bad man and a great liar. last week reinhardt told us something he did, which will show you what he is. one day he promised to show the people a feather which the devil plucked out the wing of the archangel michael. reinhardt says he supposes the devil gave it to dr. tetzel. however that may be, during the night some students in jest found their way to his relic-box, stole the feather, and replaced it by some coals. the next day, when dr. tetzel had been preaching fervently for a long time on the wonders of this feather, when he opened the box there was nothing in it but charcoal. but he was not to be disconcerted. he merely said, 'i have taken the wrong box of relics, i perceive; these are some most sacred cinders--the relics of the holy body of st. laurence, who was roasted on a gridiron.'" "schoolboys' stories," said i. "they are as good as monks' stories, at all events," rejoined christopher. i resolved to see if pollux was as deeply possessed with this irreverent spirit as christopher, and therefore this morning, when i found him alone, i said, "pollux, you used to love fritz so dearly, you would not surely take up thoughts which would pain him so deeply if he knew of it." "i do love fritz," pollux replied, "but i can never think he was right in leaving us all; and i like the religion of the creeds and the ten commandments better than that of the monks." daily, hourly i feel the loss of fritz. it is not half as much the money he earned; although, of course, that helped us; we can do and struggle on without that. it is the influence he had over the boys. they felt he was before them in the same race and when he remonstrated with them about anything, they listened. but if i blame them, they think it is only a woman's ignorance, or a woman's superstition.--and boys, they say, cannot be like women. and now it is the same with fritz. he is removed into another sphere, which is not theirs; and if i remind them of what he did or said, they say, "yes, fritz thought so; but you know he has become a monk; but we do not intend ever to be monks, and the religion of monks and laymen are different things." _april_ . the spring is come again. i wonder if it sends the thrill of joy into fritz's cell at erfurt that it does into all the forests around us here, and into my heart! i suppose there are trees near him, and birds--little happy birds--making their nests among them, as they do in our yard, and singing as they work. but the birds are not monks. their nests are little homes, and they wander freely whither they will, only brought back by love. perhaps fritz does not like to listen to the birds now, because they remind him of home, and of our long spring days in the forest. perhaps, too, they are part of the world he has renounced; and he must be dead to the world! _april_ . we have had a long day in the forest, gathering sticks and dry twigs. every creature seemed so happy there! it was such a holiday to watch the ants roofing their nests with fir twigs, and the birds flying hither and thither with food for their nestlings; and to hear the wood-pigeons, which fritz always said were like eva, cooing softly in the depths of the forest. at mid-day we sat down in a clearing of the forest, to enjoy the meal we had brought with us. a little quiet brook prattled near us, of which we drank, and the delicate young twigs on the topmost boughs of the dark, majestic pines trembled softly, as if for joy, in the breeze. as we rested, we told each other stories. pollux began with wild tales of demon hunts, which flew with the baying of demon dogs through these very forests at midnight. then, as the children began to look fearfully around, and shiver, even at mid-day, while they listened, christopher delighted them with quaint stories of wolves in sheeps' clothing politely offering themselves to the farmer as shepherds, which, i suspect, were from some dangerous satirical book, but, without the application, were very amusing. chriemhild and atlantis had their stories of kobolds, who played strange tricks in the cow-stall; and of rübezahl and the misshapen dwarf gnomes, who guarded the treasures of gold and silver in the glittering caves under the mountains; and of the elves, who danced beside the brooks at twilight. "and i," said loving little thekla, "always want to see poor nix, the water-sprite, who cries by the streams at moonlight, and lets his tears mix with the waters, because he has no soul, and he wants to live for ever. i should like to give him half mine." we should all of us have been afraid to speak of these creatures, in their own haunts among the pines, if the sun had not been high in the heavens. even as it was, i began to feel a little uneasy, and i wished to turn the conversation from these elves and sprites, who, many think, are the spirits of the old heathen gods, who linger about their haunts. one reason why people think so is, that they dare not venture within the sound of the church bells; which makes some, again, think they are worse than poor, shadowy, dethroned heathen gods, and had, indeed, better be never mentioned at all. i thought i could not do better than tell the legend of my beloved giant offerus, who became christopher and a saint by carrying the holy child across the river. thekla wondered if her favourite nix could be saved in the same way. she longed to see him and tell him about it. but eva had still her story to tell, and she related to us her legend of st. catharine. "st. catharine," she said, "was a lady of royal birth, the only child of the king and queen of egypt. her parents were heathens, but they died and left her an orphan when she was only fourteen. she was more beautiful than any of the ladies of her court, and richer than any princess in the world; but she did not care for pomp, or dress, or all her precious things. god's golden stars seemed to her more magnificent than all the splendour of her kingdom, and she shut herself up in her palace, and studied philosophy and the stars until she grew wiser than all the wise men of the east. "but one day the diet of egypt met, and resolved that their young queen must be persuaded to marry. they sent a deputation to her in her palace, who asked her, if they could find a prince beautiful beyond any, surpassing all philosophers in wisdom, of noblest mind and richest inheritance, would she marry him? the queen replied, 'he must be so noble that all men shall worship him, so great that i shall never think i have made him king, so rich that none shall ever say i enriched him, so beautiful that the angels of god shall desire to behold him. if ye can find such a prince, he shall be my husband and the lord of my heart.' now, near the queen's palace there lived a poor old hermit in a cave, and that very night the holy mother of god appeared to him, and told him the king who should be lord of the queen's heart was none other than her son. then the hermit went to the palace and presented the queen with a picture of the virgin and child; and when st. catharine saw it her heart was so filled with its holy beauty that she forgot her books, her spheres, and the stars; plato and socrates became tedious to her as a twice-told tale, and she kept the sacred picture always before her. then one night she had a dream:--she met on the top of a high mountain a glorious company of angels, clothed in white, with chaplets of white lilies. she fell on her face before them, but they said, 'stand up, dear sister catharine, and be right welcome.' then they led her by the hand to another company of angels more glorious still, clothed in purple with chaplets of red roses. before these, again, she fell on her face, dazzled with their glory; but they said, 'stand up, dear sister catharine; thee hath the king delighted to honour.' then they led her by the hand to an inner chamber of the palace of heaven, where sat a queen in state; and the angels said to her, 'our most gracious sovereign lady, empress of heaven, and mother of the king of blessedness, be pleased that we present unto you this our sister, whose name is in the book of life, beseeching you to accept her as your daughter and handmaid.' then our blessed lady rose and smiled graciously, and led st. catharine to her blessed son; but he turned from her, and said sadly, 'she is not fair enough for me.' then st. catharine awoke, and in her heart all day echoed the words, '_she is not fair enough for me_;' and she rested not until she became a christian and was baptized. and then, after some years, the tyrant maximin put her to cruel tortures, and beheaded her because she was a christian. but the angels took her body, and laid it in a white marble tomb on the top of mount sinai, and the lord jesus christ received her soul, and welcomed her to heaven as his pure and spotless bride; for at last he had made her '_fair enough for him_.' and so she has lived ever since in heaven, and is the sister of the angels." after eva's legend we began our work again; and in the evening, as we returned with our faggots, it was pleasant to see the goats creeping on before the long shadows which evening began to throw from the forests across the green valleys. the hymns which eva sang as we went, seemed quite in tune with everything else. i did not want to understand the words; everything seemed singing in words i could not help feeling,-- "god is good to us all. he gives twigs to the ants, and grain to the birds, and makes the trees their palaces, and teaches them to sing; and will he not care for you?" then the boys were so good! they never gave me a moment's anxiety, not even christopher, but collected faggots twice as large as ours in half the time, and then finished ours, and then performed all kinds of feats in climbing trees and leaping brooks, and brought home countless treasures for thekla. these are the days that always make me feel so much better; even a little religious, and as if i could almost love god! it is only when i come back again into the streets, under the shadow of the nine monasteries, and see the monks and priests in dark robes flitting silently about with downcast eyes, that i remember we are not like the birds or even the ants, for they have never sinned, and that, therefore, god cannot care for us and love us as he seems to do the least of his other creatures, until we have become holy, and worked our way through that great wall of sin which keeps us from him and shadows all our life. eva does not feel thus. as we returned she laid her basket down on the threshold of st. george's church, and crossing herself with holy water, went softly up to the high altar, and there she knelt while the lamp burned before the holy sacrament. and when i looked at her face as she rose, it was beaming with joy. "you are happy, eva, in the church and in the forest," i said to her as we went home; "you seem at home everywhere." "is not god everywhere?" she said; "and has he not loved the world?" "but our _sins_!" i said. "have we not the saviour?" she said, bowing her head. "but think how hard people find it to please him," i said. "think of the pilgrimages, the penances, the indulgences!" "i do not quite understand all that," she said; "i only quite understand my sentence and the crucifix which tells us the son of god died for man. that _must_ have been for love, and i love him; and all the rest i am content to leave." "but to-night as i look at her dear child-like face asleep on the pillow, and see how thin the cheek is which those long lashes shade, and how transparent the little hand on which she rests, a cold fear comes over me lest god should even now be making her spirit "fair enough for him," and so too fair for earth and for us." _april_ . this afternoon i was quite cheered by seeing christopher and pollux bending together eagerly over a book, which they had placed before them on the window sill. it reminded me of fritz, and i went to see what they were reading. i found, however, to my dismay, it was no church-book or learned latin school-book; but, on the contrary, a german book full of woodcuts, which shocked me very much. it was called reinecke fuchs, and as far as i could understand made a jest of everything. there were foxes with monk's frocks, and even in cardinal's hats, and wolves in cassocks with shaven crowns. altogether it seemed to me a very profane and perilous book; but when i took it to our father, to my amazement he seemed as much amused with it as the boys, and said there were evils in the world which were better attacked by jests than by sermons. _april, st mark's day._ i have just heard a sermon about despising the world, from a great preacher, one of the dominican friars, who is going through the land to awaken people to religion. he spoke especially against money, which he called "delusion, and dross, and worthless dust, and a soul-destroying canker." to monks no doubt it may be so; for what could they do with it? but it is not so to me. yesterday money filled my heart with one of the purest joys i have ever known, and made me thank god as i hardly ever thanked him before. the time had come round to pay for some of the printing materials, and we did not know where to turn for the sum we needed. lately i have been employing my leisure hours in embroidering some fine venetian silk aunt ursula gave me; and not having any copies, i had brought in some fresh leaves and flowers from the forest and tried to imitate them, hoping to sell them. when i had finished, it was thought pretty, and i carried it to the merchant, who took the father's precious models, long ago. he has always been kind to us since, and has procured us ink and paper at a cheaper rate than others can buy it. when i showed him my work he seemed surprised, and instead of showing it to his wife, as i had expected, he said smiling,-- "these things are not for poor honest burghers like me. you know my wife might be fined by the sumptuary laws if she aped the nobility by wearing anything so fine as this. i am going to the wartburg to speak about a commission i have executed for the elector-frederick, and if you like i will take you and your embroidery with me." i felt dismayed at first at such an idea, but i had on the new dress fritz gave me a year ago, and i resolved to venture. it was so many years since i had passed through that massive gateway into the great court-yard; and i thought of st. elizabeth distributing loaves, perhaps, at that very gate, and inwardly entreated her to make the elector or the ladies of his court propitious to me. i was left standing what seemed to me a long time in an ante-room. some very gaily-dressed gentlemen and ladies passed me and looked at me rather scornfully. i thought the courtiers were not much improved since the days when they were so rude to st. elizabeth. but at last i was summoned into the elector's presence. i trembled very much, for i thought--if the servants are so haughty, what will the master be? but he smiled on me quite kindly, and said, "my good child, i like this work of thine; and this merchant tells me thou art a dutiful daughter. i will purchase this at once for one of my sisters, and pay thee at once." i was so surprised and delighted with his kindness that i cannot remember the exact words of what he said afterwards, but the substance of them was that the elector is building a new church at his new university town of wittemberg which is to have choicer relics than any church in germany. and i am engaged to embroider altar-cloths and coverings for the reliquaries. and the sum already paid me nearly covers our present debt. no! whatever that dominican preacher might say nothing would ever persuade me that these precious guldens, which i took home yesterday evening with a heart brimming over with joy and thankfulness, which made our father clasp his hands in thanksgiving, and our mother's eyes overflow with happy tears, are mere delusion, or dross, or dust. is not money what _we_ make it? dust in the miser's chests; canker in the proud man's heart; but golden sunbeams, streams of blessing earned by a child's labour and comforting a parent's heart, or lovingly poured from rich men's hands into poor men's homes. _april_ . better days seem dawning at last. dr. martin, who preaches now at the elector's new university of wittemberg, must, we think, have spoken to the elector for us, and our father is appointed to superintend the printing-press especially for latin books, which is to be set up there. and sweeter even than this, it must be from fritz that this boon comes to us. fritz, dear, unselfish fritz, is the benefactor of the family after all. it must have been he who asked dr. martin luther to speak for us. there, in his lonely cell at erfurt, he thinks then of us! and he prays for us. he will never forget us. his new name will not alter his heart. and, perhaps, one day, when the novitiate is over, we may see him again. but to see him as no more our fritz, but brother sebastian!--his home, the augustinian cloister!--his mother, the church!--his sisters, all holy women!--would it not be almost worse than not seeing him at all? we are all to move to wittemberg in a month, except pollux, who is to remain with cousin conrad cotta, to learn to be a merchant. christopher begins to help about the printing. there was another thing also in my visit to the wartburg, which gives me many a gleam of joy when i think of it. if the elector whose presence i so trembled to enter, proved so much more condescending and accessible than his courtiers,--oh, if it could only be possible that we are making some mistake about god, and that he after all may be more gracious and ready to listen to us than his priests, or even than the saints who wait on him in his palace in heaven! viii. fritz's story. erfurt, augustinian convent, _april_ . i suppose conflict of mind working on a constitution weakened by the plague, brought on the illness from which i am just recovering. it is good to feel strength returning as i do. there is a kind of natural irresistible delight in life, however little we have to live for, especially to one so little prepared to die as i am. as i write, the rooks are cawing in the church-yard elms, disputing and chattering like a set of busy prosaic burghers. but retired from all this noisy public life, two thrushes have built their nest in a thorn just under the window of my cell. and early in the morning they wake me with song. he flies hither and thither as busy as a bee, with food for his mate, as she broods secure among the thick leaves, and then he perches on a twig, and sings as if he had nothing to do but to be happy. all is pleasure to him, no doubt--the work as well as the singing. happy the creatures for whom it is god's will that they should live according to their nature, and not contrary to it. probably in the recovering from illness, when the body is still weak, yet thrilling with reviving strength, the heart is especially tender, and yearns more towards home and former life than it will when strength returns and brings duties. or, perhaps, this illness recalls the last,--and the loving faces and soft hushed voices that were around me then. yet i have nothing to complain of. my aged confessor has scarcely left my bed-side. from the first he brought his bed into my cell, and watched over me like a father. and his words minister to my heart as much as his hands to my bodily wants. if my spirit would only take the comfort he offers, as easily as i receive food and medicine from his hands! he does not attempt to combat my difficulties one by one. he says-- "i am little of a physician. i cannot lay my hand on the seat of disease. but there is one who can." and to him i know the simple-hearted old man prays for me. often he recurs to the declaration in the creed, "i believe in the forgiveness of sins." "it is the command of god," he said to me one day, "that we should believe in the forgiveness of sins; not of david's or peter's sins, but of _ours_, our own, the very sins that distress our consciences." he also quoted a sermon of st. bernard's on the annunciation. "the testimony of the holy ghost given in thy heart is this, 'thy sins are forgiven thee.'" yes, forgiven to all _penitents_! but who can assure me i am a true penitent? these words, he told me, comforted brother martin, and he wonders they do not comfort me. i suppose brother martin had "the testimony of the holy ghost in his heart;" but who shall give that to me? to me who resisted the vocation of the holy ghost so long; who in my deepest heart obey it so imperfectly still! brother martin was faithful, honest, thorough, single-hearted,--all that god accepts; all that i am not! the affection and compassion of my aged confessor often, however, comfort me, even when his words have little power. they make me feel a dim hope now and then that the lord he serves may have something of the same pity in his heart. erfurt, _april_ . the vicar-general, staupitz, has visited our convent. i have confessed to him. he was very gentle with me, and to my surprise proscribed me scarcely any penance, although i endeavored to unveil all to him. once he murmured, as if to himself, looking at me with a penetrating compassion, "yes, there is no drawing back. but i wish i had known this before." and then he added to me, "brother, we must not confuse suffering with sin. it is sin to _turn_ back. it may be anguish to _look_ back and see what we have renounced, but it is not necessarily sin, if we resolutely press forward still. and if sin mingles with the regret, remember we have to do not with a painted, but a real saviour; and he died not for painted, but for real sins. sin is never overcome by looking at it, but by looking away from it to him who bore our sins, yours and mine, on the cross. the heart is never won back to god by thinking we ought to love him, but by learning what he is, all worthy of our love. true repentance begins with the love of god. the holy spirit teaches us to know, and, therefore, to love god. fear not, but read the scriptures, and pray. he will employ thee in his service yet, and in his favour is life, and in his service is freedom." this confession gave me great comfort for the time. i felt myself understood, and yet not despaired of. and that evening, after repeating the hours, i ventured in my own words to pray to god, and found it solemn and sweet. but since then my old fear has recurred. did i indeed confess completely even to the vicar-general? if i had, would not his verdict have been different? does not the very mildness of his judgment prove that i have once more deceived myself--made a false confession, and, therefore, failed of the absolution! but it is a relief to have his positive command as my superior to study the holy scriptures, instead of the scholastic theologians, to whose writings my preceptor had lately been exclusively directing my studies. _april_ . i have this day, to my surprise, received a command, issuing from the vicar-general, to prepare to set off on a mission to rome. the monk under whose direction i am to journey i do not yet know. the thought of the new scenes we shall pass through, and the wonderful new world we shall enter on,--new and old,--fills me with an almost childish delight. since i heard it, my heart and conscience seem to have become strangely lightened, which proves, i fear, how little real earnestness there is in me. another thing, however, has comforted me greatly. in the course of my confession i spoke to the vicar-general about my family, and he has procured for my father an appointment as superintendent of the latin printing press, at the elector's new university of wittemberg. i trust now that the heavy pressure of pecuniary care which has weighed so long on my mother and elsè will be relieved. it would have been sweeter to me to have earned this relief for them by my own exertions. but we must not choose the shape or the time in which divine messengers shall appear. the vicar-general has, moreover, presented me with a little volume of sermons by a pious dominican friar, named tauler. these are wonderfully deep and heart-searching. i find it difficult to reconcile the sublime and enrapt devotion to god which inspires them, with the minute rules of our order, the details of scholastic casuistry, and the precise directions as to the measure of worship and honour, dulia, hyperdulia, and latria to be paid to the various orders of heavenly beings, which make prayer often seem as perplexing to me as the ceremonial of the imperial court would to a peasant of the thuringian forest. this dominican speaks as if we might soar above all these lower things, and lose ourselves in the one ineffable source, ground, beginning, and end of all being; the one who is all. dearer to me, however, than this, is an old manuscript in our convent library, containing the confessions of the patron of our order himself, the great father augustine. straight from his heart it penetrates into mine, as if spoken to me to-day. passionate, fervent, struggling, wandering, trembling, adoring heart, i feel its pulses through every line! and was this the experience of one who is now a saint on the most glorious heights of heaven? then the mother! patient, lowly, noble, saintly monica; mother, and more than martyr. she rises before me in the likeness of a beloved form i may remember, without sin, even here, even now. st. monica speaks to me with my mother's voice; and in the narrative of her prayers i seem to gain a deeper insight into what my mother's have been for me. st. augustine was happy, to breathe the last words of comfort to herself as he did, to be with her dwelling in one house to the last. this can scarcely be given to me. "that sweet habit of living together" is broken for ever between us; broken by my deliberate act. "for the glory of god!" may god accept it; if not, may he forgive! that old manuscript is worn with reading. it has lain in the convent library for certainly more than a hundred years. generation after generation of those who now lie sleeping in the field of god below our windows have turned over those pages. heart after heart has doubtless come, as i came, to consult the oracle of that deep heart of old times, so nearly shipwrecked, so gloriously saved. as i read the old thumbed volume, a company of spirits seems to breathe in fellowship around me, and i think how many, strengthened by these words, are perhaps, even now, like him who penned them, amongst the spirits of the just made perfect. in the convent library, the dead seem to live again around me. in the cemetery are the relics of the corruptible body. among these worn volumes i feel the breath of the living spirits of generations passed away. i must say, however, there is more opportunity for solitary communion with the departed in that library than i could wish. the books are not so much read, certainly, in these days, as the vicar-general would desire, although the augustinian has the reputation of being among the more learned orders. i often question what brought many of these easy comfortable monks here. but many of the faces give no reply to my search. no history seems written on them. the wrinkles seem mere ruts of the wheels of time, not furrows sown with the seeds of thought,--happy at least if they are not as fissures rent by the convulsions of inward fires. i suppose many of the brethren became monks just as other men become tailors or shoemakers, and with no further spiritual aim, because their parents planned it so. but i may wrong even the meanest in saying so. the shallowest human heart has depths somewhere, let them be crusted over by ice ever so thick, or veiled by flowers ever so fair. and i--i and this unknown brother are actually about to journey to italy, the glorious land of sunshine, and vines, and olives, and ancient cities--the land of rome, imperial, saintly rome, where countless martyrs sleep, where st. augustine and monica sojourned, where st. paul and st. peter preached and suffered,--where the vicar of christ lives and reigns? _may_ . the brother with whom i am to make the pilgrimage to rome, arrived last night. to my inexpressible delight it is none other than brother martin--martin luther! professor of theology in the elector's new university of wittemberg. he is much changed again since i saw him last, toiling through the streets of erfurt with the sack on his shoulder. the hollow, worn look, has disappeared from his face, and the fire has come back to his eyes. their expression varies, indeed, often from the sparkle of merriment to a grave earnestness, when all their light seems withdrawn inward; but underneath there is that kind of repose i have noticed in the countenance of my aged confessor. brother martin's face has, indeed, a history written on it, and a history, i deem, not yet finished. heidelberg, _may_ . i wondered at the lightness of heart with which i set out on our journey from erfurt. the vicar-general himself accompanied us hither. we travelled partly on horseback, and partly in wheeled carriages. the conversation turned much on the prospects of the new university, and the importance of finding good professors of the ancient languages for it. brother martin himself proposed to make use of his sojourn at rome, to improve himself in greek and hebrew, by studying under the learned greeks and rabbis there. they counsel me also to do the same. the business which calls us to rome is an appeal to the holy father, concerning a dispute between some convents of our order and the vicar-general. but they say business is slowly conducted at rome, and will leave us much time for other occupations besides those which are most on our hearts, namely, paying homage at the tombs of the holy apostles and martyrs. they speak most respectfully and cordially of the elector frederick, who must indeed be a very devout prince. not many years since, he accomplished a pilgrimage to jerusalem, and took with him the painter lucas cranach, to make drawings of the various holy places. about ten years since, he built a church dedicated to st. ursula, on the site of the small chapel erected in , over the holy thorn from the crown of thorns, presented to a former elector by the king of france. this church is already, they say, through the elector frederick's diligence, richer in relics than any church in europe, except that of assisi, the birth-place of st. francis. and the collection is still continually being increased. they showed me a book printed at wittemberg a year or two since, entitled "a description of the venerable relics," adorned with one hundred and nineteen woodcuts. the town itself seems to be still poor and mean compared with eisenach and erfurt; and the students, of whom there are now nearly five hundred, are at times very turbulent. there is much beer-drinking among them. in , three years since, the bishop of brandenburg laid the whole city under interdict for some insult offered by the students to his suite, and now they are forbidden to wear guns, swords, or knives. brother martin, however, is full of hope as to the good to be done among them. he himself received the degree of biblicus (bible teacher) on the th of march last year; and every day he lectures between twelve and one o'clock. last summer, for the first time, he was persuaded by the vicar-general to preach publicly. i heard some conversation between them in reference to this, which afterwards brother martin explained to me. dr. staupitz and brother martin were sitting last summer in the convent garden at wittemberg together, under the shade of a pear tree, whilst the vicar-general endeavoured to prevail on him to preach. he was exceedingly unwilling to make the attempt. "it is no little matter," said he to dr. staupitz, "to appear before the people in the place of god." "i had fifteen arguments," he continued in relating it to me, "wherewith i purposed to resist my vocation; but they availed nothing." at the last i said, "dr. staupitz, you will be the death of me, for i cannot live under it three months." "very well," replied dr. staupitz, "still go on. our lord god hath many great things to accomplish, and he has need of wise men in heaven as well as in earth." brother martin could not further resist, and after making a trial before the brethren in the refectory, at last, with a trembling heart, he mounted the pulpit of the little chapel of the augustinian cloister. "when a preacher for the first time enters the pulpit," he concluded, "no one would believe how fearful he is; he sees so many heads before him. when i go into the pulpit, i do not look on any one. i think them only to be so many blocks before me, and i speak out the words of my god." and yet dr. staupitz says his words are like thunder-peals. _yet!_ do i say? is it not _because_? he feels himself nothing; he feels his message everything; he feels god present. what more could be needed to make a man of his power a great preacher? with such discourse the journey seemed accomplished quickly indeed. and yet, almost the happiest hours to me were those when we were all silent, and the new scenes passed rapidly before me. it was a great rest to live for a time on what i saw, and cease from thought, and remembrance, and inward questionings altogether. for have i not been commanded this journey by my superiors, so that in accordance with my vow of obedience, my one duty at present is to travel; and therefore what pleasure it chances to bring i must not refuse. we spent some hours in nüremberg. the quaint rich carvings of many of the houses were beautiful. there also we saw albrecht dürer's paintings, and heard hans sachs, the shoemaker and poet, sing his godly german hymns. and as we crossed the bavarian plains, the friendliness of the simple peasantry made up to us for the sameness of the country. near heidelberg again i fancied myself once more in the thuringian forest, especially as we rested in the convent of erbach in the odenwald. again the familiar forests and green valleys with their streams were around me. i fear elsè and the others will miss the beauty of the forest-covered hills around eisenach, when they remove to wittemberg, which is situated on a barren, monotonous flat. about this time they will be moving! brother martin has held many disputations on theological and philosophical questions in the university of heidelberg; but i, being only a novice, have been free to wander whither i would. this evening it was delightful to stand in the woods of the elector palatine's castle, and from among the oaks and delicate birches rustling about me, to look down on the hills of the odenwald folding over each other. far up among them i traced the narrow, quiet neckar, issuing from the silent depths of the forest; while on the other side, below the city, it wound on through the plain to the rhine, gleaming here and there with the gold of sunset or the cold grey light of the evening. beyond, far off, i could see the masts of ships on the rhine. i scarcely know why, the river made me think of life, of mine and brother martin's. already he has left the shadow of the forests. who can say what people his life will bless, what sea it will reach, and through what perils? of this i feel sure, it will matter much to many what its course shall be. for me it is otherwise. my life, as far as earth is concerned, seems closed,--ended; and it can matter little to any, henceforth, through what regions it passes, if only it reaches the ocean at last, and ends, as they say, in the bosom of god. if only we could be sure that god guides the course of our lives as he does that of rivers! and yet, do they not say that some rivers lose themselves in sandwastes, and others trickle meanly to the sea through lands they have desolated into untenantable marshes? black forest, _may_ , . brother martin and i are now fairly on our pilgrimage alone, walking all day, begging our provisions and our lodgings, which he sometimes repays by performing a mass in the parish church, or by a promise of reciting certain prayers or celebrating masses on the behalf of our benefactors, at rome. these are, indeed, precious days. my whole frame seems braced and revived by the early rising, the constant movement in the pure air, the pressing forward to a definite point. but more, infinitely more than this, my heart seems reviving. i begin to have a hope and see a light which, until now, i scarcely deemed possible. to encourage me in my perplexities and conflicts, brother martin unfolded to me what his own had been. to the storm of doubt, and fear, and anguish in that great heart of his my troubles seem like a passing spring shower. yet to me they were tempests which laid my heart waste. and god, brother martin believes, does not measure his pity by what our sorrows are in themselves, but what they are to us. are we not all children, little children, in his sight? "i did not learn my divinity at once," he said, "but was constrained by my temptations to search deeper and deeper; for no man without trials and temptations can attain a true understanding of the holy scriptures. st. paul had a devil that beat him with fists, and with temptations drove him diligently to study the holy scriptures. temptations hunted me into the bible, wherein i sedulously read; and thereby, god be praised, at length attained a true understanding of it." he then related to me what some of these temptations were;--the bitter disappointment it was to him to find that the cowl, and even the vows and the priestly consecration, made no change in his heart; that satan was as near him in the cloister as outside, and he no stronger to cope with him. he told me of his endeavours to keep every minute rule of the order, and how the slightest deviation weighed on his conscience. it seems to have been like trying to restrain a fire by a fence of willows, or to guide a mountain torrent in artificial windings through a flower-garden, to bind his fervent nature by these vexatious rules. he was continually becoming absorbed in some thought or study, and forgetting all the rules, and then painfully he would turn back and retrace his steps; sometimes spending weeks in absorbing study, and then remembering he had neglected his canonical hours, and depriving himself of sleep for nights to make up the missing prayers. he fasted, disciplined himself, humbled himself to perform the meanest offices for the meanest brother; forcibly kept sleep from his eyes wearied with study, and his mind worn out with conflict, until every now and then nature avenged herself by laying him unconscious on the floor of his cell, or disabling him by a fit of illness. but all in vain; his temptations seemed to grow stronger, his strength less. love to god he could not feel at all; but in his secret soul the bitterest questioning of god, who seemed to torment him at once by the law and the gospel. he thought of christ as the severest judge, because the most righteous; and the very phrase, "the righteousness of god," was torture to him. not that this state of distress was continual with him. at times he gloried in his obedience, and felt that he earned rewards from god by performing the sacrifice of the mass, not only for himself, but for others. at times, also, in his circuits, after his consecration, to say mass in the villages around erfurt, he would feel his spirits lightened by the variety of the scenes he witnessed, and would be greatly amused at the ridiculous mistakes of the village choirs; for instance, their chanting the "kyrie" to the music of the "gloria." then, at other times, his limbs would totter with terror when he offered the holy sacrifice, at the thought that he, the sacrificing priest, yet the poor, sinful brother martin, actually stood before god "without a mediator." at his first mass he had difficulty in restraining himself from flying from the altar--so great was his awe and the sense of his unworthiness. had he done so, he would have been excommunicated. again, there were days when he performed the services with some satisfaction, and would conclude with saying, "o lord jesus, i come to thee and entreat thee to be pleased with whatsoever i do and suffer in my order; and i pray thee that these burdens and this straitness of my rule and religion may be a full satisfaction for all my sins." yet then again, the dread would come that perhaps he had inadvertently omitted some word in the service, such as "enim" or "æternum," or neglected some prescribed genuflexion, or even a signing of the cross; and that thus, instead of offering to god an acceptable sacrifice in the mass, he had committed a grievous sin. from such terrors of conscience he fled for refuge to some of his twenty-one patron saints, or oftener to mary, seeking to touch her womanly heart, that she might appease her son. he hoped that by invoking three saints daily, and by letting his body waste away with fastings and watchings, he should satisfy the law, and shield his conscience against the goad of the driver. but it all availed him nothing. the further he went on in this way, the more he was terrified. and then he related to me how the light broke upon his heart; slowly, intermittently, indeed; yet it has dawned on him. his day may often be dark and tempestuous; but it is day, and not night. dr. staupitz was the first who brought him any comfort. the vicar-general received his confession not long after he entered the cloister, and from that time won his confidence, and took the warmest interest in him. brother martin frequently wrote to him; and once he used the words, in reference to some neglect of the rules which troubled his conscience, "oh, my sins, my sins!" dr. staupitz replied, "you would be without sin, and yet you have no proper sins. christ forgives true sins, such as parricide, blasphemy, contempt of god, adultery, and sins like these. these are sins indeed. you must have a register in which stand veritable sins, if christ is to help you. you would be a painted sinner, and have a painted christ as a saviour. you must make up your mind that christ is a real saviour, and you a real sinner." these words brought some light to brother martin, but the darkness came back again and again; and tenderly did dr. staupitz sympathize with him and rouse him--dr. staupitz, and that dear aged confessor, who ministered also so lovingly to me. brother martin's great terror was the thought of the righteousness of god, by which he had been taught to understand his inflexible severity in executing judgment on sinners. dr. staupitz and the confessor explained to him that the righteousness of god is not _against_ the sinner who believes in the lord jesus christ, but _for_ him--not against us to condemn, but for us to justify. he began to study the bible with a new zest. he had had the greatest longing to understand rightly the epistle of st. paul to the romans, but was always stopped by the word "righteousness" in the first chapter and seventeenth verse, where paul says the righteousness of god is revealed by the gospel. "i felt very angry," he said, "at the term, 'righteousness of god;' for, after the manner of all the teachers, i was taught to understand it in a philosophic sense, of that righteousness by which god is just and punisheth the guilty. though i had lived without reproach, i felt myself to be a great sinner before god, and was of a very quick conscience, and had not confidence in a reconciliation with god to be produced by any work or satisfaction or merit of my own. for this cause i had in me no love of a righteous and angry god, but secretly hated him, and thought within myself, is it not enough that god has condemned us to everlasting death by adam's sin, and that we must suffer so much trouble and misery in this life? over and above the terror and threatening of the law, must he needs increase by the gospel our misery and anguish, and, by the preaching of the same, thunder against us his justice and fierce wrath? my confused conscience ofttimes did cast me into fits of anger, and i sought day and night to make out the meaning of paul; and at last i came to apprehend it thus: through the gospel is revealed the righteousness which availeth with god--a righteousness by which god, in his mercy and compassion, justifieth us; as is it written, '_the just shall live by faith._' straightway i felt as if i were born anew; it was as if i had found the door of paradise thrown wide open. now i saw the scriptures altogether in a new light--ran through their whole contents as far as my memory would serve, and compared them--and found that this righteousness was the more surely that by which he makes us righteous, because everything agreed thereunto so well. the expression, 'the righteousness of god,' which i so much hated before, became now dear and precious--my darling and most comforting word. that passage of paul was to me the true door of paradise." brother martin also told me of the peace the words, "i believe in the forgiveness of sins," brought to him, as the aged confessor had previously narrated to me; for, he said, the devil often plucked him back, and, taking the very form of christ, sought to terrify him again with his sins. as i listened to him, the conviction came on me that he had indeed drunk of the well-spring of everlasting life, and it seemed almost within my own reach; but i said-- "brother martin, your sins were mere transgressions of human rules, but mine are different." and i told him how i had resisted my vocation. he replied-- "the devil gives heaven to people before they sin; but after they sin, brings their consciences into despair. christ deals quite in the contrary way, for he gives heaven after sins committed, and makes troubled consciences joyful." then we fell into a long silence, and from time to time, as i looked at the calm which reigned on his rugged and massive brow, and felt the deep light in his dark eyes, the conviction gathered strength-- "this solid rock on which that tempest-tossed spirit rests is truth!" his lips moved now and then, as if in prayer, and his eyes were lifted up from time to time to heaven, as if his thoughts found a home there. after this silence, he spoke again and said-- "the gospel speaks nothing of our works or of the works of the law, but of the inestimable mercy and love of god towards most wretched and miserable sinners. our most merciful father, seeing us overwhelmed and oppressed with the curse of the law, and so to be holden under the same, that we could never be delivered from it by our own power, sent his only son into the world, and laid upon him the sins of all men, saying, 'be thou peter, that denier; paul, that persecutor, blasphemer, and cruel oppressor; david, that adulterer; that sinner that did eat the apple in paradise; that thief that hanged upon the cross; and briefly, be thou the person that hath committed the sins of all men, and pay and satisfy for them.' for god trifleth not with us, but speaketh earnestly and of great love, that christ is the lamb of god who beareth the sins of us all. he is just, and the justifier of him that believeth in jesus." i could answer nothing to this, but walked along pondering these words. neither did he say any more at that time. the sun was sinking low, and the long shadows of the pine trunks were thrown athwart our green forest-path, so that we were glad to find a charcoal-burner's hut, and to take shelter for the night beside his fires. but that night i could not sleep; and when all were sleeping around me, i rose and went out into the forest. brother martin is not a man to parade his inmost conflicts before the eyes of others, to call forth their sympathy or their idle wonder. he has suffered too deeply and too recently for that. it is not lightly that he has unlocked the dungeons and torture-chambers of his past life for me. it is as a fellow-sufferer and a fellow-soldier, to show me how i also may escape and overcome. it is surely because he is to be a hero and a leader of men that god has caused him to tread these bitter ways alone. a new meaning dawns on old words for me. there is nothing new in what he says, but it seems new to me, as if god had spoken it first to-day; and all things seem made new in its light. god, then, is more earnest for me to be saved than i am to be saved! "he so loved the world, that he gave his son." he loved not saints, not penitents, not the religious, not those who love him; but "the _world_," secular men, profane men, hardened rebels, hopeless wanderers and sinners! he gave not a mere promise, not an angel to teach us, not a world to ransom us, but his son--his only-begotten! so much did god love the world, sinners, me! i believe this; i must believe it; i believe in him who says it. how can i then do otherwise than rejoice? two glorious visions rise before me and begin to fill the world and all my heart with joy. i see the holiest, the perfect, the son made the victim, the lamb, the curse, willingly yielding himself up to death on the cross for me. i see the father--inflexible in justice yet delighting in mercy--accepting him, the spotless lamb whom he had given; raising him from the dead; setting him on his right hand. just, beyond all my terrified conscience could picture him, he justifies me the sinner. hating sin as love must abhor selfishness, and life death, and purity corruption, he loves me--the selfish, the corrupt, the dead in sins. he gives his son, the only-begotten, for me; he accepts his son, the spotless lamb, for me; he forgives me; he acquits me; he will make me pure. the thought overpowered me. i knelt among the pines and spoke to him who hears when we have no words, for words failed me altogether then. munich, _may_ . all the next day and the next that joy lasted. every twig, and bird, and dew-drop spoke in parables to me; sang to me the parable of the son who had returned from the far country, and as he went towards his father's house prepared his confession; but never finished the journey, for the father met him when he was yet a great way off; and never finished the confession, for the father stopped his self-reproaches with embraces. and on the father's heart what child could say, "make me as one of thy hired servants?" i saw his love shining in every dew-drop on the grassy forest glades; i heard it in the song of every bird; i felt it in every pulse. i do not know that we spoke much during those days, brother martin and i. i have known something of love; but i have never felt a love that so fills, overwhelms, satisfies, as this love of god. and when first it is "thou and i" between god and the soul, for a time, at least, the heart has little room for other fellowship. but then came doubts and questionings. whence came they! brother martin said from satan. "the devil is a wretched, unhappy spirit," said he, "and he loves to make us wretched." one thing that began to trouble me was, whether i had the right kind of faith. old definitions of faith recurred to me, by which faith is said to be nothing unless it is informed with charity and developed into good works, so that when it saith we are justified by faith, the part is taken for the whole--and it means by faith, also hope, charity, all the graces, and all good works. but brother martin declared it meaneth simply believing. he said,-- "faith is an almighty thing, for it giveth glory to god, which is the highest service that can be given to him. now, to give glory to god, is to believe in him; to count him true, wise, righteous, merciful, almighty. the chiefest thing god requireth of man is, that he giveth unto him his glory and divinity; that is to say, that he taketh him not for an idol, but for god; who regardeth him, heareth him, showeth mercy unto him, and helpeth him. for faith saith thus, 'i believe thee, o god, when thou speakest.'" but our great wisdom, he says, is to look away from all these questionings,--from our sins, our works, ourselves, to christ, who is our righteousness, our saviour, our all. then at times other things perplex me. if faith is so simple, and salvation so free, why all those orders, rules, pilgrimages, penances? and to these perplexities we can neither of us find any answer. but we must be obedient to the church. what we cannot understand we must receive and obey. this is a monk's duty, at least. then at times another temptation comes on me. "if thou hadst known of this before," a voice says deep in my heart, "thou couldst have served god joyfully in thy home, instead of painfully in the cloister; couldst have helped thy parents and elsè, and spoken with eva on these things, which her devout and simple heart has doubtless received already." but, alas! i know too well what tempter ventures to suggest that name to me, and i say, "whatever might have been, malicious spirit, _now_ i am a religious, a devoted man, to whom it is perdition to draw back!" yet, in a sense, i seem less separated from my beloved ones during these past days. there is a brotherhood, there is a family, more permanent than the home at eisenach, or even the order of st. augustine, in which we may be united still. there is a home in which, perhaps, we may yet be one household again. and meantime, god may have some little useful work for me to do here, which in his presence may make life pass as quickly as this my pilgrimage to rome in brother martin's company. benedictine monastery in lombardy. god has given us during these last days to see, as i verily believe, some glimpses into eden. the mountains with snowy summits, like the white steps of his throne; the rivers which flow from them and enrich the land; the crystal seas, like glass mingled with fire, when the reflected snow-peaks burn in the lakes at dawn or sunset; and then this lombard plain, watered with rivers which make its harvests gleam like gold; this garner of god, where the elms or chestnuts grow among the golden maize, and the vines festoon the trees, so that all the land seems garlanded for a perpetual holy day. we came through the tyrol by füssen, and then struck across by the mountains and the lakes to milan. now we are entertained like princes in this rich benedictine abbey. its annual income is , florins. "of eating and feasting," as brother martin says, "there is no lack;" for , florins are consumed on guests, and as large a sum on building. the residue goeth to the convent and the brethren. they have received us poor german monks with much honour, as a deputation from the great augustinian order to the pope. the manners of these southern people are very gentle and courteous; but they are lighter in their treatment of sacred things than we could wish. the splendour of the furniture and dress amazes us; it is difficult to reconcile it with the vows of poverty and renunciation of the world. but i suppose they regard the vow of poverty as binding not on the community, but only on the individual monk. it must, however, at the best, be hard to live a severe and ascetic life amidst such luxuries. many, no doubt, do not try. the tables are supplied with the most costly and delicate viands; the walls are tapestried; the dresses are of fine silk; the floors are inlaid with rich marbles. poor, poor splendours, as substitutes for the humblest _home_! bologna, _june_. we did not remain long in the benedictine monastery, for this reason: brother martin, i could see, had been much perplexed by their luxurious living; but as a guest, had, i suppose, scarcely felt at liberty to remonstrate, until friday came, when, to our amazement, the table was covered with meats and fruits, and all kinds of viands, as on any other day, regardless not only of the rules of the order, but of the common laws of the whole church. he would touch none of these dainties; but not content with this silent protest, he boldly said before the whole company, "the church and the pope forbid such things!" we had then an opportunity of seeing into what the smoothness of these italian manners can change when ruffled. the whole brotherhood burst into a storm of indignation. their dark eyes flashed, their white teeth gleamed with scornful and angry laughter, and their voices rose in a tempest of vehement words, many of which were unintelligible to us. "intruders," "barbarians," "coarse and ignorant germans," and other biting epithets, however, we could too well understand. brother martin stood like a rock amidst the torrent, and threatened to make their luxury and disorder known at rome. when the assembly broke up, we noticed the brethren gather apart in small groups, and cast scowling glances at us when we chanced to pass near. that evening the porter of the monastery came to us privately, and warned us that this convent was no longer a safe resting-place for us. whether this was a friendly warning, or merely a device of the brethren to get rid of troublesome guests, i know not; but we had no wish to linger, and before the next day dawned we crept in the darkness out of a side gate into a boat, which we found on the river which flows beneath the walls, and escaped. it was delightful to-day winding along the side of a hill, near bologna, for miles, under the flickering shade of trellises covered with vines. but brother martin, i thought, looked ill and weary. bologna. thank god, brother martin is reviving again. he has been on the very borders of the grave. whether it was the scorching heat through which we have been travelling, or the malaria, which affected us with catarrh one night when we slept with our windows open, or whether the angry monks in the benedictine abbey mixed some poison with our food, i know not; but we had scarcely reached this place when he became seriously ill. as i watched beside him i learned something of the anguish he passed through at our convent at erfurt. the remembrance of his sins and the terrors of god's judgment rushed on his mind, weakened by suffering. at times he recognized that it was the hand of the evil one which was keeping him down. "the devil," he would say, "is the accuser of the brethren, not christ. thou, lord jesus, art my forgiving saviour!" and then he would rise above the floods. again his mind would bewilder itself with the unfathomable--the origin of evil, the relation of our free will to god's almighty will. then i ventured to recall to him the words of dr. staupitz he had repeated to me: "behold the wounds of jesus christ, and then thou shall see the counsel of god clearly shining forth. we cannot comprehend god out of jesus christ. in christ you will find what god is, and what he requires. you will find him nowhere else, whether in heaven or on earth." it was strange to find myself, untried recruit that i am, thus attempting to give refreshment to such a veteran and victor as brother martin; but when the strongest are brought into single combats such as these, which must be single, a feeble hand may bring a draught of cold water to revive the hero between the pauses of the fight. the victory, however, can only be won by the combatant himself; and at length brother martin fought his way through once more, and as so often happens, just when the fight seemed hottest. it was with an old weapon he overcame--"_the just shall live by faith._" once more the words which have helped him so often, which so frequently he has repeated on this journey, came with power to his mind. again he looked to the crucified saviour; again he believed in him triumphant and ready to forgive on the throne of grace; and again his spirit was in the light. his strength also soon began to return; and in a few days we are to be in rome. rome. the pilgrimage is over. the holy city is at length reached. across burning plains, under trellised vine-walks on the hill-sides, over wild, craggy mountains, through valleys green with chestnuts, and olives, and thickets of myrtle, and fragrant with lavender and cistus, we walked, until at last the sacred towers and domes burst on our sight, across a reach of the campagna--the city where st. paul and st. peter were martyred--the metropolis of the kingdom of god. the moment we came in sight of the city brother martin prostrated himself on the earth, and, lifting up his hands to heaven, exclaimed-- "hail, sacred rome! thrice sacred for the blood of the martyrs here shed." and now we are within the sacred walls, lodged in the augustinian monastery, near to the northern gate, through which we entered, called by the romans the "porta del popolo." already brother martin has celebrated a mass in the convent church. and to-morrow we may kneel where apostles and martyrs stood! we may perhaps even see the holy father himself! are we indeed nearer heaven here? it seems to me as i felt god nearer that night in the black forest. there is so much tumult, and movement, and pomp around us in the great city. when, however, i feel it more familiar and home-like, perhaps it will seem more heaven-like. ix. elsè's story. eisenach, _april_. the last words i shall write in our dear old lumber-room, fritz's and mine! i have little to regret in it now, however, that our twilight talks are over for ever. we leave early to-morrow morning for wittemberg. it is strange to look out into the old street, and think how all will look exactly the same there to-morrow evening,--the monks slowly pacing along in pairs, the boys rushing out of school, as they are now, the maid-servants standing at the doors with the baby in their arms, or wringing their mops,--and we gone. how small a blank people seem to make when they are gone, however large the space they seemed to fill when they were present--except, indeed, to two or three hearts! i see this with fritz. it seemed to me our little world must fall when he, its chief pillar, was withdrawn. yet now everything seems to go on the same as before he became a monk,--except, indeed, with the mother and eva and me. the mother seems more and more like a shadow gliding in and out among us. tenderly, indeed, she takes on her all she can of our family cares; but to family joys she seems spiritless and dead. since she told me of the inclination she thinks she neglected in her youth towards the cloister, i understand her better,--the trembling fear with which she receives any good thing, and the hopeless submission with which she bows to every trouble, as to the blows of a rod always suspended over her, and only occasionally mercifully withheld from striking. in the loss of fritz the blow has fallen exactly where she would feel it most keenly. she had, i feel sure, planned another life for him. i see it in the peculiar tenderness of the tie which binds her to eva. she said to me to-day, as we were packing up some of fritz's books, "the sacrifice i was too selfish to make myself my son has made for me. o elsè, my child, give at once, _at once_, whatever god demands of you. what he demands must be given at last; and if only wrung out from us at last, god only knows with what fearful interest the debt may have to be paid." the words weigh on me like a curse. i cannot help feeling sometimes, as i know she feels always, that the family is under some fatal spell. but oh, how terrible the thought is that this is the way god exacts retribution!--a creditor, exacting to the last farthing for the most trifling transgression; and if payment is delayed, taking life or limb, or what is dearer, in exchange. i cannot bear to think of it. for if my mother is thus visited for a mistake, for neglecting a doubtful vocation, my pious, sweet mother, what hope is there for me, who scarcely pass a day without having to repent of saying some sharp word to those boys (who certainly are often very provoking), or doing what i ought not, or omitting some religious duty, or at least without envying some one who is richer, or inwardly murmuring at our lot,--even sometimes thinking bitter thoughts of our father and his discoveries! our dear father has at last arranged and fitted in all his treasures, and is the only one, except the children, who seems thoroughly pleased at the thought of our emigration. all day he has been packing, and unpacking, and repacking his machines into some specially safe corners of the great wagon which cousin conrad cotta has lent us for our journey. eva, on the other hand, seems to belong to this world as little as the mother. not that she looks depressed or hopeless. her face often perfectly beams with peace; but it seems entirely independent of everything here, and is neither ruffled by the difficulties we encounter, nor enhanced when anything goes a little better. i must confess it rather provokes me, almost as much as the boys do. i have serious fears that one day she will leave us, like fritz, and take refuge in a convent. and yet i am sure i have not a fault to find with her. i suppose that is exactly what our grandmother and i feel so provoking. lately she has abandoned all her latin books for a german book entitled "theologia teutsch," or "theologia germanica," which fritz sent us before he left the erfurt convent on his pilgrimage to rome. this book seems to make eva very happy; but as to me, it appears to me more unintelligible than latin. although it is quite different from all the other religious books i ever read, it does not suit me any better. indeed, it seems as if i never should find the kind of religion that would suit me. it all seems so sublime and vague, and so far out of my reach;--only fit for people who have time to climb the heights; whilst my path seems to lie in the valleys, and among the streets, and amidst all kinds of little every-day secular duties and cares, which religion is too lofty to notice. i can only hope that some day at the end of my life god will graciously give me a little leisure to be religious and to prepare to meet him, or that eva's and fritz's prayers and merits will avail for me. wittemberg, _may_, . we are beginning to get settled into our new home, which is in the street near the university buildings. martin luther, or brother martin, has a great name here. they say his lectures are more popular than any one's. and he also frequently preaches in the city church. our grandmother is not pleased with the change. she calls the town a wretched mud village, and wonders what can have induced the electors of saxony to fix their residence and found a university in such a sandy desert as this. she supposes it is very much like the deserts of arabia. but christopher and i think differently. there are several very fine buildings here, beautiful churches, and the university, and the castle, and the augustinian monastery; and we have no doubt that in time the rest of the town will grow up to them. i have heard our grandmother say that babies with features too large for their faces often prove the handsomest people when they grow up to their features. and so, no doubt, it will be with wittemberg, which is at present certainly rather like an infant with the eyes and nose of a full-grown man. the mud walls and low cottages with thatched roofs look strangely out of keeping with the new buildings, the elector's palace and church at the western end, the city church in the centre, and the augustinian cloister and university at the eastern extremity, near the elster gate, close to which we live. it is true that there are no forests of pines, and wild hills, and lovely green valleys here, as around eisenach. but our grandmother need not call it a wilderness. the white sand-hills on the north are broken with little dells and copses; and on the south, not two hundred rods from the town, across a heath, flows the broad, rapid elbe. the great river is a delight to me. it leads one's thoughts back to its quiet sources among the mountains, and onwards to its home in the great sea. we had no great river at eisenach, which is an advantage on the side of wittemberg. and then the banks are fringed with low oaks and willows, which bend affectionately over the water, and are delightful to sit amongst on summer evenings. if i were not a little afraid of the people! the father does not like eva and me to go out alone. the students are rather wild. this year, however, they have been forbidden by the rector to carry arms, which is some comfort. but the town's people also are warlike and turbulent, and drink a great deal of beer. there are one hundred and seventy breweries in the place, although there are not more than three hundred and fifty houses. few of the inhabitants send their children to school, although there are five hundred students from all parts of germany at the university. some of the poorer people, who come from the country around to the markets, talk a language i cannot understand. our grandmother says they are wends, and that this town is the last place on the borders of the civilized world. beyond it, she declares, there are nothing but barbarians and tartars. indeed, she is not sure whether our neighbors themselves are christians. st. boniface, the great apostle of the saxons, did not extend his labours further than saxony; and she says the teutonic knights who conquered prussia and the regions beyond us, were only christian colonists living in the midst of half-heathen savages. to me it is rather a gloomy idea, to think that between wittemberg and the turks and tartars, or even the savages in the indies beyond, which christopher columbus has discovered, there are only a few half-civilized wends, living in those wretched hamlets which dot the sandy heaths around the town. but the father says it is a glorious idea, and that, if he were only a little younger, he would organize a land expedition, and traverse the country until he reached the spaniards and the portuguese, who sailed to the same point by sea. "only to think," he says, "that in a few weeks, or months at the utmost, we might reach cathay, el dorado, and even atlantis itself, where the houses are roofed and paved with gold, and return laden with treasures!" it seems to make him feel even his experiments with the retorts and crucibles in which he is always on the point of transmuting lead into silver, to be tame and slow processes. since we have been here, he has for the time abandoned his alchemical experiments, and sits for hours with a great map spread before him, calculating in the most accurate and elaborate manner how long it would take to reach the new spanish discoveries by way of wendish prussia. "for," he remarks, "if i am never able to carry out the scheme myself, it may one day immortalize one of my sons, and enrich and ennoble the whole of our family!" our journey from eisenach was one continual fête to the children. for my mother and the baby--now two years old--we made a couch in the wagon, of the family bedding. my grandmother sat erect in a nook among the furniture. little thekla was enthroned like a queen on a pile of pillows, where she sat hugging her own especial treasures,--her broken doll, the wooden horse christopher made for her, a precious store of cones and pebbles from the forest, and a very shaggy disreputable foundling dog which she has adopted, and can by no means be persuaded to part with. she calls the dog nix, and is sure that he is always asking her with his wistful eyes to teach him to speak, and give him a soul. with these, her household gods, preserved to her, she showed little feeling at parting from the rest of our eisenach world. the father was equally absorbed with his treasures, his folios, and models, and instruments, which he jealously guarded. eva had but one inseparable treasure, the volume of the "theologia germanica," which she has appropriated. the mother's especial thought was the baby. chriemhild was overwhelmed with the parting with pollux, who was left behind with cousin conrad cotta, and atlantis was so wild with delight at the thought of the new world and the new life, from which she was persuaded all the cares of the old were to be extracted for ever, that, had it not been for christopher and me, i must say the general interest of the family would have been rather in the background. for the time there was a truce between christopher and me concerning "reinecke fuchs," and our various differences. all his faculties--which have been so prolific for mischief--seemed suddenly turned into useful channels, like the mischievous elves of the farm and hearth, when they are capriciously bent on doing some poor human being a good turn. he scarcely tried my temper once during the whole journey. since we reached wittemberg, however, i cannot say as much. i feel anxious about the companions he has found among the students, and often, often i long that fritz's religion had led him to remain among us, at least until the boys had grown up. i had nerved myself beforehand for the leave-taking with the old friends and the old home, but when the moving actually began, there was no time to think of anything but packing in the last things which had been nearly forgotten, and arranging every one in their places. i had not even a moment for a last look at the old house, for at the instant we turned the corner, thekla and her treasures nearly came to an untimely end by the downfall of one of the father's machines; which so discouraged thekla, and excited our grandmother, nix and the baby, that it required considerable soothing to restore every one to equanimity; and, in the meantime, the corner of the street had been turned, and the dear old house was out of sight. i felt a pang, as if i had wronged it, the old home which had sheltered us so many years, and been the silent witness of so many joys, and cares, and sorrows! we had few adventures during the first day, except that thekla's peace was often broken by the difficulties in which nix's self-confident but not very courageous disposition frequently involved him with the cats and dogs in the villages, and their proprietors. the first evening in the forest was delightful. we encamped in a clearing. sticks were gathered for a fire, round which we arranged such bedding and furniture as we could unpack, and the children were wild with delight at thus combining serious household work with play, whilst christopher foddered and tethered the horses. after our meal we began to tell stories, but our grandmother positively forbade our mentioning the name of any of the forest sprites, or of any evil or questionable creature whatever. in the night i could not sleep. all was so strange and grand around us, and it did seem to me that there were wailings and sighings and distant moanings among the pines, not quite to be accounted for by the wind. i grew rather uneasy, and at length lifted my head to see if any one else was awake. opposite me sat eva, her face lifted to the stars, her hands clasped, and her lips moving as if in prayer. i felt her like a guardian angel, and instinctively drew nearer to her. "eva," i whispered at last, "do you not think there are rather strange and unaccountable noises around us? i wonder if it can be true that strange creatures haunt the forests?" "i think there are always spirits around us, cousin elsè," she replied, "good and evil spirits prowling around us, or ministering to us. i suppose in the solitude we feel them nearer, and perhaps they are." i was not at all reassured. "eva," i said, "i wish you would say some prayers; i feel afraid i may not think of the right ones. but are you really not at all afraid?" "why should i be?" she said softly; "god is nearer us always than all the spirits, good or evil,--nearer and greater than all. and he is the supreme goodness. i like the solitude, cousin elsè, because it seems to lift me above all the creatures to the one who is all and in all. and i like the wild forests," she continued, as if to herself, "because god is the only owner there, and i can feel more unreservedly, that we, and the creatures, and all we most call our own, are his, and only his. in the cities, the houses are called after the names of men, and each street and house is divided into little plots, of each of which some one says, 'it is mine.' but here all is visibly only god's, undivided, common to all. there is but one table, and that is his; the creatures live as free pensioners on his bounty." "is it then sin to call anything our own?" i asked. "my book says it was this selfishness that was the cause of adam's fall," she replied. "some say it was because adam ate the apple that he was lost, or fell; but my book says it was 'because of his claiming something for his own; and because of his saying, i, mine, me, and the like.'" "that is very difficult to understand." i said, "am i not to say, _my_ mother, _my_ father, _my_ fritz? ought i to love every one the same because all are equally god's? if property is sin, then why is stealing sin? eva, this religion is quite above and beyond me. it seems to me in this way it would be almost as wrong to give thanks for what we have, as to covet what we have not, because we ought not to think we have anything. it perplexes me extremely." i lay down again, resolved not to think any more about it. fritz and i proved once, a long time ago, how useless it is for me, at least, to attempt to get beyond the ten commandments. but trying to comprehend what eva said so bewildered me, that my thoughts soon wandered beyond my control altogether. i heard no more of eva or the winds, but fell into a sound slumber, and dreamt that eva and an angel were talking beside me all night in latin, which i felt i ought to understand, but of course could not. the next day we had not been long on our journey when, at a narrow part of the road, in a deep valley, a company of horsemen suddenly dashed down from a castle which towered on our right, and barred our further progress with serried lances. "do you belong to erfurt?" asked the leader, turning our horses' heads, and pushing christopher aside with the butt end of his gun. "no," said christopher, "to eisenach." "give way, men," shouted the knight to his followers; "we have no quarrel with eisenach. this is not what we are waiting for." the cavaliers made a passage for us, but a young knight who seemed to lead them rode on beside us for a time. "did you pass any merchandise on your road?" he asked of christopher, using the form of address he would have to a peasant. "we are not likely to pass anything," replied christopher, not very courteously, "laden as we are." "what is your lading?" asked the knight. "all our worldly goods," replied christopher, curtly. "what is your name, friend, and where are you bound?" "cotta," answered christopher. "my father is the director of the elector's printing press at the new university of wittemberg." "cotta!" rejoined the knight more respectfully, "a good burgher name;" and saying this he rode back to the wagon, and saluting our father, surveyed us all with a cool freedom, as if his notice honoured us, until his eye lighted on eva, who was sitting with her arm round thekla, soothing the frightened child, and helping her to arrange some violets christopher had gathered a few minutes before. his voice lowered when he saw her, and he said,-- "this is no burgher maiden, surely? may i ask your name, fair fraülein?" he said, doffing his hat and addressing eva. she made no reply, but continued arranging her flowers, without changing feature or colour, except her lip curled and quivered slightly. "the fraülein is absorbed with her bouquet; would that we were nearer our schloss, that i might offer her flowers more worthy of her handling." "are you addressing me?" said eva at length, raising her large eyes, and fixing them on him with her gravest expression; "i am no fraülein, i am a burgher maiden; but if i were a queen, any of god's flowers would be fair enough for me. and to a true knight," she added, "a peasant maiden is as sacred as a queen." no one ever could trifle with that earnest expression of eva's face. it was his turn to be abashed. his effrontery failed him altogether, and he murmured, "i have merited the rebuke. these flowers are too fair, at least for me. if you would bestow one on me, i would keep it sacredly as a gift of my mother's or as the relics of a saint." "you can gather them anywhere in the forest," said eva; but little thekla filled both her little hands with violets, and gave them to him. "you may have them all if you like," she said; "christopher can gather us plenty more." he took them carefully from the child's hand, and, bowing low, rejoined his men who were in front. he then returned, said a few words to christopher, and with his troop retired to some distance behind us, and followed us till we were close to erfurt, when he spurred on to my father's side, and saying rapidly, "you will be safe now, and need no further convoy," once more bowed respectfully to us, and rejoining his men, we soon lost the echo of their horse-hoofs, as they galloped back through the forest. "what did the knight say to you, christopher?" i asked, when we dismounted at erfurt that evening. "he said that part of the forest was dangerous at present, because of a feud between the knights and the burghers, and if we would allow him, he would be our escort until we came in sight of erfurt." "that, at least, was courteous of him," i said. "such courtesy as a burgher may expect of a knight," rejoined christopher, uncompromisingly; "to insult us without provocation, and then, as a favour, exempt us from their own illegal oppressions! but women are always fascinated with what men on horseback do." "no one is fascinated with any one," i replied. for it always provokes me exceedingly when that boy talks in that way about women. and our grandmother interposed,--"don't dispute, children; if your grandfather had not been unfortunate, you would have been of the knights' order yourselves, therefore it is not for you to run down the nobles." "i should never have been a knight," persisted christopher, "or a priest or a robber." but it was consolatory to my grandmother and me to consider how exalted our position would have been, had it not been for certain little unfortunate hindrances. our grandmother never admitted my father into the pedigree. at leipsic we left the children, while our grandmother, our mother, eva, and i went on foot to see aunt agnes at the convent of nimptschen, whither she had been transferred, some years before, from eisenach. we only saw her through the convent grating. but it seemed to me as if the voice, and manner, and face were entirely unchanged since that last interview when she terrified me as a child by asking me to become a sister, and abandon fritz. only the voice sounded to me even more like a muffled bell used only for funerals, especially when she said, in reference to fritz's entering the cloister, "praise to god, and the blessed virgin, and all the saints. at last, then, he has heard my unworthy prayers; one at least is saved!" a cold shudder passed over me at her words. had she then, indeed, all these years been praying that our happiness should be ruined and our home desolated? and had god heard her? was the fatal spell, which my mother feared was binding us, after all nothing else than aunt agnes's terrible prayers? her face looked as lifeless as ever, in the folds of white linen which bound it into a regular oval. her voice was metallic and lifeless; the touch of her hand was impassive and cold as marble when we took leave of her. my mother wept, and said, "dear agnes, perhaps we may never meet again on earth." "perhaps not," was the reply. "you will not forget us, sister?" said the mother. "i never forget you," was the reply, in the same deep, low, firm, irresponsive voice, which seemed as if it had never vibrated to anything more human than an organ playing gregorian chants. and the words echo in my heart to this instant, like a knell. she never forgets us. nightly in her vigils, daily in church and cell, she watches over us, and prays god not to let us be too happy. and god hears her, and grants her prayers. it is too clear he does! had she not been asking him to make fritz a monk? and is not fritz separated from us for ever? "how did you like the convent, eva?" i said to her that night when we were alone. "it seemed very still and peaceful," she said. "i think one could be very happy there. there would be so much time for prayer. one could perhaps more easily lose self there, and become nearer to god." "but what do you think of aunt agnes?" "i felt drawn to her. i think she has suffered." "she seems to be dead alike to joy or suffering," i said. "but people do not thus die without pain," said eva very gravely. our house at wittemberg is small. from the upper windows we look over the city walls, across the heath, to the elbe, which gleams and sparkles between its willows and dwarf oaks. behind the house is a plot of neglected ground, which christopher is busy at his leisure hours trenching and spading into an herb-garden. we are to have a few flowers on the borders of the straight walk which intersects it,--daffodils, pansies, roses, and sweet violets and gilliflowers, and wallflowers. at the end of the garden are two apple trees and a pear tree, which had shed their blossoms just before we arrived, in a carpet of pink and white petals. under the shade of these i carry my embroidery frame, when the house work is finished; and sometimes little thekla comes and prattles to me, and sometimes eva reads and sings to me. i cannot help regretting that lately eva is so absorbed with that "theologia germanica." i cannot understand it as well as i do the latin hymns when once she has translated them to me; for these speak of jesus the saviour, who left the heavenly home and sat weary by the way seeking for us; or of mary his dear mother; and although sometimes they tell of wrath and judgment, at all events i know what it means. but this other book is all to me one dazzling haze, without sun, or moon, or stars, or heaven, or earth, or seas, or anything distinct,--but all a blaze of indistinguishable glory, which is god; the one who is all--a kind of ocean of goodness, in which, in some mysterious way, we ought to be absorbed. but i am not an ocean, or any part of one; and i cannot love an ocean, because it is infinite, or unfathomable, or all-sufficient, or anything else. my mother's thought of god, as watching lest we should be too happy and love any one more than himself, remembering the mistakes and sins of youth, and delaying to punish them until just the moment when the punishment would be most keenly felt, is dreadful enough. but even that is not to me so bewildering and dreary as this all-absorbing being in eva's book. the god my mother dreads has indeed eyes of severest justice, and a frown of wrath against the sinner; but if once one could learn how to please him, the eyes might smile, the frown might pass. it is a countenance; and a heart which might meet ours! but when eva reads her book to me, i seem to look up into heaven and see nothing but heaven--light, space, infinity, and still on and on, infinity and light; a moral light, indeed--perfection, purity, goodness; but no eyes i can look into, no heart to meet mine--none whom i could speak to, or touch, or see! this evening we opened our window and looked out across the heath to the elbe. the town was quite hushed. the space of sky above us over the plain looked so large and deep. we seemed to see range after range of stars beyond each other in the clear air. the only sound was the distant, steady rush of the broad river, which gleamed here and there in the starlight. eva was looking up with her calm, bright look. "thine!" she murmured, "all this is thine; and we are thine, and thou art here! how much happier it is to be able to look up and feel there is no barrier of our own poor ownership between us and him, the possessor of heaven and earth! how much poorer we should be if we were lords of this land, like the elector, and if we said, 'all this is mine!' and so saw only i and mine in it all, instead of god and god's!" "yes," i said, "if we _ended_ in saying i and mine; but i should be very thankful if god gave us a little more out of his abundance, to use for our wants. and yet, how much better things are with us then they were!--the appointment of my father as director of the elector's printing establishment, instead of a precarious struggle for ourselves; and this embroidery of mine! it seems to me, eva, sometimes, we might be a happy family yet." "my book," she replied thoughtfully, "says we shall never be truly satisfied in god, or truly free, unless all things are one to us, and one is all, and something and nothing are alike. i suppose i am not quite truly free, cousin elsè, for i cannot like this place quite as much as the old eisenach home." i began to feel quite impatient, and i said,--"nor can i or any of us ever feel any home quite the same again, since fritz is gone. but as to feeling something and nothing are alike, i never can, and i will never try. one might as well be dead at once." "yes," said eva gravely; "i suppose we shall never comprehend it quite, or be quite satisfied and free, until we die." we talked no more that night; but i heard her singing one of her favourite hymns:[ ]-- in the fount of life perennial the parched heart its thirst would slake, and the soul, in flesh imprisoned, longs her prison-walls to break,-- exile, seeking, sighing, yearning in her fatherland to wake. when with cares oppressed and sorrows, only groans her grief can tell, then she contemplates the glory which she lost when first she fell: memory of the vanished good the present evil can but swell. who can utter what the pleasures and the peace unbroken are where arise the pearly mansions, shedding silvery light afar-- festive seats and golden roofs, which glitter like the evening star? wholly of fair stones most precious are those radiant structures made; with pure gold, like glass transparent, are those shining streets inlaid; nothing that defiles can enter, nothing that can soil or fade. stormy winter, burning summer, rage within those regions never; but perpetual bloom of roses, and unfading spring for ever: lilies gleam, the crocus glows, and dropping balms their scents deliver; honey pure, and greenest pastures,--this the land of promise is liquid odours soft distilling, perfumes breathing on the breeze; fruits immortal cluster always on the leafy, fadeless trees. there no moon shines chill and changing, there no stars with twinkling ray-- for the lamb of that blest city is at once the sun and day; night and time are known no longer,--day shall never fade away. there the saints, like suns, are radiant,--like the sun at dawn they glow; crownèd victors after conflict, all their joys together flow; and, secure, they count the battles where they fought the prostrate foe. every stain of flesh is cleansèd, every strife is left behind; spiritual are their bodies,--perfect unity of mind; dwelling in deep peace for ever, no offense or grief they find. putting off their mortal vesture, in their source their souls they steep,-- truth by actual vision learning, on its form their gaze they keep,-- drinking from the living fountain draughts of living waters deep. time, with all its alternations, enters not those hosts among,-- glorious, wakeful, blest, no shade of chance or change o'er them is flung; sickness cannot touch the deathless, nor old age the ever young. there their being is eternal,--things that cease have ceased to be. all corruption there has perished,--there they flourish strong and free; thus mortality is swallowed up of life eternally. nought from them is hidden,--knowing him to whom all things are known all the spirit's deep recesses, sinless, to each other shown,-- unity of will and purpose, heart and mind for ever one. diverse as their varied labours the rewards to each that fall; but love, what she loves in others evermore her own doth call: thus the several joy of each becomes the common joy of all. where the body is, there ever are the eagles gathered; for the saints and for the angels one most blessed feast is spread,-- citizens of either country living on the self-same bread. ever filled and ever seeking, what they have they still desire; hunger there shall fret them never, nor satiety shall tire,-- still enjoying whilst aspiring, in their joy they still aspire. there the new song, new forever, those melodious voices sing,-- ceaseless streams of fullest music through those blessed regions ring! crownèd victors ever bringing praises worthy of the king! blessed who the king of heaven in his beauty thus behold, and, beneath his throne rejoicing, see the universe unfold,-- sun and moon, and stars and planets, radiant in his light unrolled. christ, the palm of faithful victors! of that city make me free; when my warfare shall be ended, to its mansions lead thou me; grant me, with its happy inmates, sharer of thy gifts to be! let thy soldier, still contending, still be with thy strength supplied; thou wilt not deny the quiet when the arms are laid aside; make me meet with thee for ever in that country to abide! [footnote : ad perennis vitæ fontem mens sitivit arida, claustra carnis præstò frangi clausa quærit anima, gliscit, ambit, electatur, exul frui patriâ. &c. &c. &c. (the translation only is given above.)] _passion week._ wittemberg has been very full this week. there have been great mystery-plays in the city church; and in the electoral church (_schloss kirche_) all the relics have been solemnly exhibited. crowds of pilgrims have come from all the neighbouring villages, wendish and saxon. it has been very unpleasant to go about the streets, so much beer has been consumed; and the students and peasants have had frequent encounters. it is certainly a comfort that there are large indulgences to be obtained by visiting the relics, for the pilgrims seem to need a great deal of indulgence. the sacred mystery-plays were very magnificent. the judas was wonderfully hateful,--hunchbacked, and dressed like a rich jewish miser; and the devils were dreadful enough to terrify the children for a year. little thekla was dressed in white, with gauze wings, and made a lovely angel--and enjoyed it very much. they wanted eva to represent one of the holy women at the cross, but she would not. indeed she nearly wept at the thought, and did not seem to like the whole ceremony at all. "it all really happened!" she said; "they really crucified him! and he is risen, and living in heaven; and i cannot bear to see it performed, like a fable." the second day there was certainly more jesting and satire than i liked. christopher said it reminded him of "reinecke fuchs." in the middle of the second day we missed eva, and when in a few hours i came back to the house to seek her, i found her kneeling by our bed-side, sobbing as if her heart would break. i drew her towards me, but i could not discover that anything at all was the matter, except that the young knight who had stopped us in the forest had bowed very respectfully to her, and had shown her a few dried violets, which he said he should always keep in remembrance of her and her words. it did not seem to me so unpardonable an offence, and i said so. "he had no right to keep anything for my sake!" she sobbed. "no one will ever have any right to keep anything for my sake; and if fritz had been here, he would never have allowed it." "little eva," i said, "what has become of your 'theologia teutsch?' your book says you are to take all things meekly, and be indifferent, i suppose, alike to admiration and reproach." "cousin elsè," said eva very gravely, rising and standing erect before me with clasped hands, "i have not learned the 'theologia' through well yet, but i mean to try. the world seems to me very evil, and very sad. and there seems no place in it for an orphan girl like me. there is no rest except in being a wife or a nun. a wife i shall never be, and therefore, dear, dear elsè," she continued, kneeling down again, and throwing her arms around me, "i have just decided--i will go to the convent where aunt agnes is, and be a nun." i did not attempt to remonstrate; but the next day i told the mother, who said gravely, "she will be happier there, poor child! we must let her go." but she became pale as death, her lip quivered, and she added,--"yes, god must have the choicest of all. it is in vain indeed to fight against him!" then, fearing she might have wounded me, she kissed me and said,--"since fritz left, she has grown so very dear! but how can i murmur when my loving elsè is spared to us?" "mother," i said, "do you think aunt agnes has been praying again for this?" "probably!" she replied, with a startled look. "she did look very earnestly at eva." "then, mother," i replied, "i shall write to aunt agnes at once, to tell her that she is not to make any such prayers for you or for me. for, as to me, it is entirely useless. and if you were to imitate st. elizabeth, and leave us, it would break all our hearts, and the family would go to ruin altogether." "what are you thinking of, elsè?" replied my mother meekly. "it is too late indeed for me to think of being a saint. i can never hope for anything beyond this, that god in his great mercy may one day pardon me my sins, and receive me as the lowest of his creatures, for the sake of his dear son who died upon the cross. what could you mean by my imitating st. elizabeth?" i felt reassured, and did not pursue the subject, fearing it might suggest what i dreaded to my mother. wittemberg, _june_ . and so eva and fritz are gone, the two religious ones of the family. they are gone into their separate convents, to be made saints, and have left us all to struggle in the world without them,--with all that helped us to be less earthly taken from us. it seems to me as if a lovely picture of the holy mother had been removed from the dwelling-room since eva has gone, and instead we had nothing left but family portraits, and paintings of common earthly things; or as if a window opening towards the stars had been covered by a low ceiling. she was always like a little bit of heaven among us. i miss her in our little room at night. her prayers seemed to hallow it. i miss her sweet, holy songs at my embroidery; and now i have nothing to turn my thoughts from the arrangements for to-morrow, and the troubles of yesterday, and the perplexities of to-day. i had no idea how i must have been leaning on her. she always seemed so child-like, and so above my petty cares--and in practical things i certainly understood much more; and yet, in some way, whenever i talked anything over with her, it always seemed to take the burden away,--to change cares into duties, and clear my thoughts wonderfully,--just by lightening my heart. it was not that she suggested what to do; but she made me feel things were working for good, not for harm--that god in some way ordered them--and then the right thoughts seemed to come to me naturally. our mother, i am afraid, grieves as much as she did for fritz; but she tries to hide it, lest we should feel her ungrateful for the love of her children. i have a terrible dread sometimes that aunt agnes will get her prayers answered about our precious mother also,--if not in one way, in another. she looks so pale and spiritless. christopher has just returned from taking eva to the convent. he says she shed many tears when he left her; which is a comfort. i could not bear to think that something and nothing were alike to her yet! he told me also one thing, which has made me rather anxious. on the journey, eva begged him to take care of our father's sight, which, she said, she thought had been failing a little lately. and just before they separated she brought him a little jar of distilled eye-water, which the nuns were skillful in making, and sent it to our father with sister ave's love. certainly my father has read less lately; and now i think of it, he has asked me once or twice to find things for him, and to help him about his models, in a way he never used to do. it is strange that eva, with those deep, earnest, quiet eyes, which seemed to look about so little, always saw before any of us what every one wanted. darling child! she will remember us, then, and our little cares. and she will have some eye-water to make, which will be much better for her than reading all day in that melancholy "theologia teutsch." but are we to call our eva, ave? she gave these lines of the hymn in her own writing to christopher, to bring to me. she often used to sing it, and has explained the words to me:-- "ave, maris stella dei mater alma atque semper virgo felix coeli porta. _sumens illud ave_ gabrielis ore funda nos in pace _mutans nomen evoe_." it is not an uncommon name, i know, with nuns. well, dearly as i loved the old name, i cannot complain of the change. sister ave will be as dear to me as cousin eva, only a little bit further off, and nearer heaven. her living so near heaven, while she was with us, never seemed to make her further off, but nearer to us all. now, however, it cannot, of course, be the same. our grandmother remains steadfast to the baptismal name. "receiving that ave from the lips of gabriel, the blessed mother transformed the name of our mother eva! and now our child eva is on her way to become saint ave,--god's angel ave in heaven!" _june_ . the young knight we met in the forest has called at our house to-day. i could scarcely command my voice at first to tell him where our eva is, because i cannot help partly blaming him for her leaving us at last. "at nimptschen!" he said; "then she was noble, after all. none but maidens of noble houses are admitted there." "yes," i said, "our mother's family is noble." "she was too heavenly for this world!" he murmured. "her face, and something in her words and tones, have haunted me like a holy vision, or a church hymn, ever since i saw her." i could not feel as indignant with the young knight as eva did. and he seemed so interested in our father's models, that we could not refuse him permission to come and see us again. yes, our eva was, i suppose, as he says, too religious and too heavenly for this world. only, as so many of us have, after all, to live in the world, unless the world is to come to an end altogether, it would be a great blessing if god had made a religion for us poor, secular people, as well as one for the monks and nuns. x. fritz's story. rome, augustinian convent. holy as this city necessarily must be, consecrated by relics of the church's most holy dead, consecrated by the presence of her living head, i scarcely think religion is as deep in the hearts of these italians as of our poor germans in the cold north. but i may mistake; feeling of all kinds manifests itself in such different ways with different characters. certainly the churches are thronged on all great occasions, and the festas are brilliant. but the people seem rather to regard them as holidays and dramatic entertainments, than as the solemn and sacred festivals we consider them in saxony. this morning, for instance, i heard two women criticizing a procession in words such as these, as far as the little italian i have picked up, enabled me to understand them:-- "ah, nina mia, the angels are nothing to-day; you should have seen our lucia last year! every one said she was heavenly. if the priests do not arrange it better, people will scarcely care to attend. besides, the music was execrable." "ah, the nuns of the cistercian convent understand how to manage a ceremony. they have ideas! did you see their bambino last christmas? such lace! and the cradle of tortoise-shell, fit for an emperor, as it should be! and then their robes for the madonna on her fêtes! cloth of gold embroidered with pearls and brilliants worth a treasury!" "yes," replied the other, lowering her voice, "i have been told the history of those robes. a certain lady who was powerful at the late holy father's court, is said to have presented the dress in which she appeared on some state occasion to the nuns, just as she wore it." "did she become a penitent, then?" "a penitent? i do not know; such an act of penitence would purchase indulgences and masses to last at least for some time." brother martin and i do not so much affect these gorgeous processions. these italians, with their glorious skies and the rich colouring of their beautiful land require more splendour in their religion than our german eyes can easily gaze on undazzled. it rather perplexed us to see the magnificent caparisons of the horses of the cardinals; and more especially to behold the holy father sitting on a fair palfrey, bearing the sacred host. in germany, the loftiest earthly dignity prostrates itself low before that ineffable presence. but my mind becomes confused. heaven forbid that i should call the vicar of christ an _earthly_ dignitary! is he not the representative and oracle of god on earth? for this reason,--no doubt in painful contradiction to the reverent awe natural to every christian before the holy sacrament,--the holy father submits to sitting enthroned in the church, and receiving the body of our creator through a golden tube presented to him by a kneeling cardinal. it must be very difficult for him to separate between the office and the person. it is difficult enough for us. but for the human spirit not yet made perfect to receive these religious honours must be overwhelming. doubtless, at night, when the holy father humbles himself in solitude before god, his self-abasement is as much deeper than that of ordinary christians as his exaltation is greater. i must confess that it is an inexpressible relief to me to retire to the solitude of my cell at night, and pray to him of whom brother martin and i spoke in the black forest; to whom the homage of the universe is no burden, because it is not mere prostration before an office, but adoration of a person. "holy, holy, holy, lord god almighty: heaven and earth are full of thy glory." holiness--to which almightiness is but an attribute, holy one, who hast loved and given thine holy one for a sinful world, _miserere nobis_! rome, _july_. we have diligently visited all the holy relics, and offered prayers at every altar at which especial indulgences are procured, for ourselves and others. brother martin once said he could almost wish his father and mother (whom he dearly loves) were dead, that he might avail himself of the privileges of this holy city to deliver their souls from purgatory. he says masses whenever he can. but the italian priests are often impatient with him because he recites the office so slowly. i heard one of them say, contemptuously, he had accomplished thirty masses while brother martin only finished one. and more than once they hurry him forward, saying "passa! passa!" there is a strange disappointment in these ceremonies to me, and, i think, often to him. i seem to expect so much more,--not more pomp, of that there is abundance; but when the ceremony itself begins, to which all the pomp of music, and processions of cavaliers, and richly-robed priests, and costly shrines, are mere preliminary accessories, it seems often so poor! the kernel inside all this gorgeous shell seems to the eye of sense like a little poor withered dust. to the eye of _sense_! yes, i forget. these are the splendours of _faith_, which faith only can behold. to-day we gazed on the veronica,--the holy impression left by our saviour's face on the cloth st. veronica presented to him to wipe his brow, bowed under the weight of the cross. we had looked forward to this sight for days; for seven thousand years of indulgence from penance are attached to it. but when the moment came brother martin and i could see nothing but a black board hung with a cloth, before which another white cloth was held. in a few minutes this was withdrawn, and the great moment was over, the glimpse of the sacred thing on which hung the fate of seven thousand years! for some time brother martin and i did not speak of it. i feared there had been some imperfection in my looking, which might affect the seven thousand years; but observing his countenance rather downcast, i told my difficulty, and found that he also had seen nothing but a white cloth. the skulls of st. peter and st. paul perplexed us still more, because they had so much the appearance of being carved in wood. but in the crowd we could not approach very close; and doubtless satan uses devices to blind the eyes even of the faithful. one relic excited my amazement much--the halter with which judas hanged himself! it could scarcely be termed a _holy_ relic. i wonder who preserved it, when so many other precious things are lost. scarcely the apostles; perhaps the scribes, out of malice. the romans, i observe, seem to care little for what to us is the kernel and marrow of these ceremonies--the exhibition of the holy relics. they seem more occupied in comparing the pomp of one year, or of one church, with another. we must not, i suppose, measure the good things done us by our own thoughts and feelings, but simply accept it on the testimony of the church. otherwise i might be tempted to imagine that the relics of pagan rome do my spirit more good than gazing on the sacred ashes or bones of martyrs or apostles. when i walk over the heaps of shapeless ruin, so many feet beneath which lies buried the grandeur of the old imperial city; or when i wander among the broken arches of the gigantic coliseum, where the martyrs fought with wild beasts,--great thoughts seem to grow naturally in my mind, and i feel how great truth is, and how little empires are. i see an empire solid as this coliseum crumble into ruins as undistinguishable as the dust of those streets, before the word of that once despised jew of tarsus, "in bodily presence weak," who was beheaded here. or, again, in the ancient pantheon, when the music of christian chants rises among the shadowy forms of the old vanquished gods painted on the walls, and the light streams down, not from painted windows in the walls, but from the glowing heavens above, every note of the service echoes like a peal of triumph, and fills my heart with thankfulness. but my happiest hours here are spent in the church of my patron, st. sebastian, without the walls, built over the ancient catacombs. countless martyrs, they say, rest in peace in these ancient sepulchres. they have not been opened for centuries; but they are believed to wind in subterranean passages far beneath the ancient city. in those dark depths the ancient church took refuge from persecution: there she laid her martyrs; and there, over their tombs, she chanted hymns of triumph, and held communion with him for whom they died. in that church i spend hours. i have no wish to descend into those sacred sepulchres, and pry among the graves the resurrection trump will open soon enough. i like to think of the holy dead, lying undisturbed and quiet there; of their spirits in paradise; of their faith triumphant in the city which massacred them. no doubt they also had their perplexities, and wondered why the wicked triumph, and sighed to god, "how long, o lord, how long?" and yet i cannot help wishing i had lived and died among them, and had not been born in times when we see satan appear, not in his genuine hideousness, but as an angel of light. for of the wickedness that prevails in this christian rome, alas, who can speak! of the shameless sin, the violence, the pride, the mockery of sacred things! in the coliseum, in the pantheon, in the church of st. sebastian, i feel an atom--but an atom in a solid, god-governed world, where truth is mightiest;--insignificant in myself as the little mosses which flutter on these ancient stones; but yet a little moss on a great rock which cannot be shaken--the rock of god's providence and love. in the busy city, i feel tossed hither and thither on a sea which seems to rage and heave at its own wild will, without aim or meaning--a sea of human passion. among the ruins, i commune with the spirits of our great and holy dead, who live unto god. at the exhibition of the sacred relics, my heart is drawn down to the mere perishable dust, decorated with the miserable pomps of the little men of the day. and then i return to the convent and reproach myself for censoriousness, and unbelief, and pride, and try to remember that the benefits of these ceremonies and exhibitions are only to be understood by faith, and are not to be judged by inward feeling, or even by their moral results. the church, the holy father, solemnly declare that pardons and blessings incalculable, to ourselves and others, flow from so many paternosters and aves recited at certain altars, or from seeing the veronica or the other relics. i have performed the acts, and i must at my peril believe in their efficacy. but brother martin and i are often sorely discouraged at the wickedness we see and hear around us. a few days since he was at a feast with several prelates and great men of the church, and the fashion among them seemed to be to jest at all that is most sacred. some avowed their disbelief in one portion of the faith, and some in others; but all in a light and laughing way, as if it mattered little to any of them. one present related how they sometimes substituted the words _panis es, et panis manebis_ in the mass, instead of the words of consecration, and then amused themselves with watching the people adore what was, after all, no consecrated host, but a mere piece of bread. the romans themselves we have heard declare, that if there be a hell, rome is built over it. they have a couplet,-- "vivere qui sancte vultis, discedite roma: omnia hic esse licent, non licet esse probum."[ ] [footnote : "ye who would live holily, depart from rome: all things are allowed here, except to be upright."] o rome! in sacredness as jerusalem, in wickedness as babylon, how bitter is the conflict that breaks forth in the heart at seeing holy places and holy character thus disjoined! how overwhelming the doubts that rush back on the spirit again and again, as to the very existence of holiness or truth in the universe, when we behold the deeds of satan prevailing in the very metropolis of the kingdom of god! rome, _august_. mechanically, we continue to go through every detail of the prescribed round of devotions, believing against experience, and hoping against hope. to-day brother martin went to accomplish the ascent of the santa scala--the holy staircase--which once, they say, formed part of pilate's house. i had crept up the sacred steps before, and stood watching him as, on his knees, he slowly mounted step after step of the hard stone, worn into hollows, by the knees of penitents and pilgrims. an indulgence for a thousand years--indulgence from penance--is attached to this act of devotion. patiently he crept half way up the staircase, when, to my amazement, he suddenly stood erect, lifted his face heavenward, and, in another moment, turned and walked slowly down again. he seemed absorbed in thought, when he rejoined me; and it was not until some time afterwards that he told the meaning of this sudden abandonment of his purpose. he said that, as he was toiling up, a voice, as if from heaven, seemed to whisper to him the old, well-known words, which had been his battle-cry in so many a victorious combat,--"_the just shall live by faith._" he seemed awakened, as if from a nightmare, and restored to himself. he dared not creep up another step; but, rising from his knees, he stood upright, like a man suddenly loosed from bonds and fetters, and, with the firm step of a freeman, he descended the staircase and walked from the place. _august_, . to-night there has been an assassination. a corpse was found near our convent gates, pierced with many wounds. but no one seems to think much of it. such things are constantly occurring, they say; and the only interest seems to be as to the nature of the quarrel which led to it. "a prelate is mixed up with it," the monks whisper: "one of the late pope's family. it will not be investigated." but these crimes of passion seem to me comprehensible and excusable, compared with the spirit of levity and mockery which pervades all classes. in such acts of revenge you see human nature in ruins; yet in the ruins you can trace something of the ancient dignity. but in this jesting, scornful spirit, which mocks at sacredness in the service of god, at virtue in woman, and at truth and honour in men, all traces of god's image seem crushed and trodden into shapeless, incoherent dust. from such thoughts i often take refuge in the campagna, and feel a refreshment in its desolate spaces, its solitary wastes, its traces of material ruin. the ruins of empires and of imperial edifices do not depress me. the immortality of the race and of the soul rises grandly in contrast. in the campagna we see the ruins of imperial rome; but in rome we see the ruin of our race and nature. and what shall console us for that, when the presence of all that christians most venerate is powerless to arrest it? were it not for some memories of a home at eisenach, on which i dare not dwell too much, it seems at times as if the very thought of purity and truth would fade from my heart. rome, _august_. brother martin, during the intervals of the business of his order, which is slowly winding its way among the intricacies of the roman courts, is turning his attention to the study of hebrew, under the rabbi elias levita. i study also with the rabbi, and have had the great benefit, moreover, of hearing lectures from the byzantine greek professor, argyropylos. two altogether new worlds seem to open to me through these men,--one in the far distances of time, and the other in those of space. the rabbi, one of the race which is a by-word and a scorn among us from boyhood, to my surprise seems to glory in his nation and his pedigree, with a pride which looks down on the antiquity of our noblest lineages as mushrooms of a day. i had no conception that underneath the misery and the obsequious demeanour of the jews such lofty feelings existed. and, yet, what wonder is it! before rome was built, jerusalem was a sacred and royal city; and now that the empire and the people of rome have passed for centuries, this nation, fallen before their prime, still exists to witness their fall. i went once to the door of their synagogue, in the ghetto. there were no shrines in it, no altars, no visible symbols of sacred things, except the roll of the law, which was reverently taken out of a sacred treasury and read aloud. yet there seemed something sublime in this symbolizing of the presence of god only by a voice reading the words which, ages ago, he spoke to their prophets in the holy land. "why have you no altar?" i asked once of one of the rabbis. "our altar can only be raised when our temple is built," was the reply. "our temple can only rise in the city and on the hill of our god. but," he continued, in a low, bitter tone, "when our altar and temple are restored, it will not be to offer incense to the painted image of a hebrew maiden." i have thought of the words often since. but were they not blasphemy? i must not dare recall them. but those greeks! they are christians, and yet not of our communion. as argyropylos speaks, i understand for the first time that a church exists in the east, as ancient as the church of western europe, and as extensive, which acknowledges the holy trinity and the creeds, but owns no allegiance to the holy father the pope. the world is much larger and older than elsè or i thought at eisenach. may not god's kingdom be much larger than some think at rome? in the presence of monuments which date back to days before christianity, and of men who speak the language of moses, and, with slight variations, the language of homer, our germany seems in its infancy indeed. would to god it were in its infancy, and that a glorious youth and prime may succeed, when these old, decrepit nations are worn out and gone! yet heaven forbid that i should call rome decrepit--rome on whose brow rests, not the perishable crown of earthly dominion, but the tiara of the kingdom of god. _september._ the mission which brought brother martin hither is nearly accomplished. we shall soon--we may at a day's notice--leave rome and return to germany. and what have we gained by our pilgrimage? a store of indulgences beyond calculation. and knowledge; eyes opened to see good and evil. ennobling knowledge! glimpses into rich worlds of human life and thought, which humble the heart in expanding the mind. bitter knowledge! illusions dispelled, aspirations crushed. we have learned that the heart of christendom is a moral plague-spot; that spiritual privileges and moral goodness have no kind of connection, because where the former are at the highest perfection, the latter is at the lowest point of degradation. we have learned that on earth there is no place to which the heart can turn as a sanctuary, if by a sanctuary we mean not merely a refuge from the punishment of sin, but a place in which to grow holy. in one sense, rome may, indeed, be called the sanctuary of the world! it seems as if half the criminals in the world had found a refuge here. when i think of rome in future as a city of the living, i shall think of assassination, treachery, avarice, a spirit of universal mockery, which seems only the foam over an abyss of universal despair; mockery of all virtue, based on disbelief in all truth. it is only as a city of the dead that my heart will revert to rome as a holy place. she has indeed built, and built beautifully, the sepulchres of the prophets. those hidden catacombs, where the holy dead rest, far under the streets of the city,--too far for traffickers in sacred bones to disturb them,--among these the imagination can rest, like those beatified ones, in peace. the spiritual life of rome seems to be among her dead. among the living all seems spiritual corruption and death. may god and the saints have mercy on me if i say what is sinful. does not the scum necessarily rise to the surface? do not acts of violence and words of mockery necessarily make more noise in the world than prayers? how do i know how many humble hearts there are in those countless convents there, that secretly offer acceptable incense to god, and keep the perpetual lamp of devotion burning in the sight of god? how do i know what deeper and better thoughts lie hidden under that veil of levity? only i often feel that if god had not made me a believer through his word, by the voice of brother martin in the black forest, rome might too easily have made me an infidel. and it is certainly true, that to be a christian at rome as well as elsewhere, (indeed, more than elsewhere) one must breast the tide, and must walk by faith, and not by sight. but we have performed the pilgrimage. we have conscientiously visited all the shrines; we have recited as many as possible of the privileged acts of devotion, paters and aves, at the privileged shrines. great benefits _must_ result to us from these things. but benefits of what kind? moral? how can that be? when shall i efface from my memory the polluting words and works i have seen and heard at rome? spiritual? scarcely; if by spiritual we are to understand a devout mind, joy in god, and nearness to him. when, since that night in the black forest, have i found prayer so difficult, doubts so overwhelming, the thoughts of god and heaven so dim, as at rome? the benefits, then, that we have received, must be ecclesiastical--those that the church promises and dispenses. and what are these ecclesiastical benefits? pardon? but is it not written that god gives this freely to those who believe on his son? peace? but is not that the legacy of the saviour to all who love him? what then? indulgences. indulgences from what? from the temporal consequences of sin? too obviously not these. do the ecclesiastical indulgences save men from disease, and sorrow, and death? is it, then, from the eternal consequences of sin? did not the lamb of god, dying for us on the cross, bear our sins there, and blot them out? what then remains, which the indulgences can deliver from? penance and purgatory. what then are penance and purgatory? has penance in itself no curative effect, that we can be healed of our sins by escaping as well as by performing it? have purgatorial fires no purifying powers, that we can be purified as much by repeating a few words of devotion at certain altars as by centuries of agony in the flames? all these questions rise before me from time to time, and i find no reply. if i mention them to my confessor, he says,-- "these are temptations of the devil. you must not listen to them. they are vain and presumptuous questions. there are no keys on earth to open these doors." are there any keys on earth to _lock_ them again, when once they have been opened? "you germans," others of the italian priests say, "take everything with such desperate seriousness. it is probably owing to your long winters and the heaviness of your northern climate, which must, no doubt, be very depressing to the spirits." holy mary! and these italians, if life is so light a matter to them, will not they also have one day to take death "with desperate seriousness," and judgment and eternity, although there will be no long winters, i suppose, and no heavy northern climate, to depress the spirits in that other world. we are going back to germany at last. strangely has the world enlarged to me since we came here. we are accredited pilgrims; we have performed every prescribed duty, and availed ourselves of every proffered privilege. and yet it is not because of the regret of quitting the holy city that our hearts are full of the gravest melancholy as we turn away from rome. when i compare the recollections of this rome with those of a home at eisenach, i am tempted in my heart to feel as if germany, and not rome, were the holy place, and our pilgrimage were beginning, instead of ending, as we turn our faces northward! xi. eva's story. cistercian convent, nimptschen, . life cannot, at the utmost, last very long, although at seventeen we may be tempted to think the way between us and heaven interminable. for the convent is certainly not heaven; i never expected it would be. it is not nearly so much like heaven, i think, as aunt cotta's home; because love seems to me to be the essential joy of heaven, and there is more love in that home than here. i am not at all disappointed. i did not expect a haven of rest, but only a sphere where i might serve god better, and, at all events, not be a burden on dear aunt cotta. for i feel sure uncle cotta will become blind; and they have so much difficulty to struggle on, as it is. and the world is full of dangers for a young orphan girl like me; and i am afraid they might want me to marry some one, which i never could. i have no doubt god will give me some work to do for him here, and that is all the happiness i look for. not that i think there are not other kinds of happiness in the world which are not wrong; but they are not for me. i shall never think it was wrong to love them all at eisenach as much as i did, and do, whatever the confessor may say. i shall be better all my life, and all the life beyond, i believe, for the love god gave them for me, and me for them, and for having known cousin fritz. i wish very much he would write to me; and sometimes i think i will write to him. i feel sure it would do us both good. he always said it did him good to talk and read the dear old latin hymns with me; and i know they never seemed more real and true than when i sang them to him. but the father confessor says it would be exceedingly perilous for our souls to hold such a correspondence; and he asked me if i did not think more of my cousin than of the hymns when i sang them to him, which, he says, would have been a great sin. i am sure i cannot tell exactly how the thoughts were balanced, or from what source each drop or pleasure flowed. it was all blended together. it was joy to sing the hymns, and it was joy for fritz to like to hear them; and where one joy overflowed into the other i cannot tell. i believe god gave me both; and i do not see that i need care to divide one from the other. who cares, when the elbe is flowing past its willows and oaks at wittemberg, which part of its waters was dissolved by the sun from the pure snows on the mountains, and which came trickling from some little humble spring on the sandy plains? both springs and snows came originally from the clouds above; and both, as they flow blended on together, make the grass spring and the leaf-buds swell, and all the world rejoice. the heart with which we love each other and with which we love god, is it not the same? only god is all good, and we are all his, therefore we should love him best. i think i do, or i should be more desolate here than i am, away from all but him. that is what i understand by my "theologia germanica," which elsè does not like. i begin with my father's legacy--"god so loved the world, that he gave his son;" and then i think of the crucifix, and of the love of him who died for us; and, in the light of these, i love to read in my book of him who is the supreme goodness, whose will is our rest, and who is himself the joy of all our joys, and our joy when we have no other joy. the things i do not comprehend in the book, i leave, like so many other things. i am but a poor girl of seventeen, and how can i expect to understand everything? only i never let the things i do not understand perplex me about those i do. therefore, when my confessor told me to examine my heart, and see if there were not wrong and idolatrous thoughts mixed up with my love for them all at eisenach, i said at once, looking up at him-- "yes, father, i did not love them half enough, for all their love to me." i think he must have been satisfied; for although he looked perplexed, he did not ask me any more questions. i feel very sorry for many of the nuns, especially for the old nuns. they seem to me like children, and yet not child-like. the merest trifles appear to excite or trouble them. they speak of the convent as if it were the world, and of the world as if it were hell. it is a childhood with no hope, no youth and womanhood before it. it reminds me of the stunted oaks we passed on düben heath, between wittemberg and leipsic, which will never be full-grown, and yet are not saplings. then there is one, sister beatrice, whom the nuns seem to think very inferior to themselves, because they say she was forced into the convent by her relatives, to prevent her marrying some one they did not like, and could never be induced to take the vows until her lover died,--which, they say, is hardly worthy of the name of a vocation at all. she does not seem to think so either, but moves about in a subdued, broken-spirited way, as if she felt herself a creature belonging neither to the church nor to the world. the other evening she had been on an errand for the prioress through the snow, and returned blue with cold. she had made some mistake in the message, and was ordered at once, with contemptuous words, to her cell, to finish a penance by reciting certain prayers. i could not help following her. when i found her, she was sitting on a pallet shivering, with the prayer-book before her. i crept into the cell, and, sitting down beside her, began to chafe her poor icy hands. at first she tried to withdraw them, murmuring that she had a penance to perform; and then her eyes wandered from the book to mine. she gazed wonderingly at me for some moments, and then she burst into tears, and said,-- "oh, do not do that! it makes me think of the old nursery at home. and my mother is dead; all are dead, and i cannot die." she let me put my arms round her, however; and, in faint, broken words, the whole history came out. "i am not here from choice," she said. "i should never have been here if my mother had not died; and i should never have taken the vows if _he_ had not died, whatever they had done to me; for we were betrothed, and we had vowed before god we would be true to each other till death. and why is not one vow as good as another? when they told me he was dead, i took the vows,--or, at least, i let them put the veil on me, and said the words as i was told, after the priest; for i did not care what i did. and so i am a nun. i have no wish now to be anything else. but it will do me no good to be a nun, for i loved eberhard first, and i loved him best; and now that he is dead, i love no one, and have no hope in heaven or earth. i try, indeed, not to think of him, because they say that is sin; but i cannot think of happiness without him, if i try for ever." i said, "i do not think it is wrong for you to think of him." her face brightened for an instant, and then she shook her head, and said,-- "ah, you are a child; you are an angel. you do not know." and then she began to weep again, but more quietly. "i wish you had seen him; then you would understand better. it was not wrong for me to love him once; and he was so different from every one else--so true and gentle, and so brave." i listened while she continued to speak of him, and, at last, looking wistfully at me, she said, in a low, timid voice, "i cannot help trusting you." and she drew from inside a fold of her robe a little piece of yellow paper, with a few words written on it, in pale, faded ink, and a lock of brown hair. "do you think it is very wrong?" she asked. "i have never told the confessor, because i am not quite sure if it is a sin to keep it; and i am quite sure the sisters would take it from me if they knew. do you think it is wrong?" the words were very simple--expressions of unchangeable affection, and a prayer that god would bless her and keep them for each other until better times. i could not speak, i felt so sorry; and she murmured, nervously taking her poor treasures from my hands, "you do not think it right. but you will not tell? perhaps one day i shall be better, and be able to give them up; but not yet. i have nothing else." then i tried to tell her that she _had_ something else;--that god loved her and had pity on her, and that perhaps he was only answering the prayer of her betrothed, and guarding them in his blessed keeping until they should meet in better times. at length she seemed to take comfort; and i knelt down with her, and we said together the prayers she had been commanded to recite. when i rose, she said thoughtfully, "you seem to pray as if some one in heaven really listened and cared." "yes," i said; "god does listen and care." "even to me?" she asked; "even for me? will he not despise me, like the holy sisterhood?" "he scorns no one; and they say the lowest are nearest him, the highest." "i can certainly never be anything but the lowest," she said. "it is fit no one here should think much of me, for i have only given the refuse of my life to god. and besides, i had never much power to think; and the little i had seems gone since eberhard died. i had only a little power to love; and i thought that was dead. but since you came, i begin to think i might yet love a little." as i left the cell she called me back. "what shall i do when my thoughts wander, as they always do in the long prayers?" she asked. "make shorter prayers, i think, oftener," i said. "i think that would please god as much." _august_, . the months pass on very much the same here; but i do not find them monotonous. i am permitted by the prioress to wait on the sick, and also often to teach the younger novices. this little world grows larger to me every week. it is a world of human hearts,--and what a world there is in every heart! for instance, aunt agnes! i begin now to know her. all the sisterhood look up to her as almost a saint already. but i do not believe she thinks so herself. for many months after i entered the cloister she scarcely seemed to notice me; but last week she brought herself into a low fever by the additional fasts and severities she has been imposing on herself lately. it was my night to watch in the infirmary when she became ill. at first she seemed to shrink from receiving anything at my hands. "can they not send any one else?" she asked sternly. "it is appointed to me," i said, "in the order of the sisterhood." she bowed her head, and made no further opposition to my nursing her. and it was very sweet to me, because in spite of all the settled, grave impassiveness of her countenance, i could not help seeing something there which recalled dear aunt cotta. she spoke to me very little; but i felt her large deep eyes following me as i stirred little concoctions of herbs on the fire, or crept softly about the room. towards morning she said, "child, you are tired--come and lie down;" and she pointed to a little bed beside her own. peremptory as were the words, there was a tone in them different from the usual metallic firmness in her voice--which froze elsè's heart--a tremulousness which was almost tender. i could not resist the command, especially as she said she felt much better; and in a few minutes, bad nurse that i was, i fell asleep. how long i slept i know not, but i was awakened by a slight movement in the room, and looking up, i saw aunt agnes's bed empty. in my first moment of bewildered terror i thought of arousing the sisterhood, when i noticed that the door of the infirmary which opened on the gallery of the chapel was slightly ajar. softly i stole towards it, and there, in the front of the gallery, wrapped in a sheet, knelt aunt agnes, looking more than ever like the picture of death which she always recalled to elsè. her lips, which were as bloodless as her face, moved with passionate rapidity; her thin hands feebly counted the black beads of her rosary; and her eyes were fixed on a picture of the _mater dolorosa_ with the seven swords in her heart, over one of the altars. there was no impassiveness in the poor sharp features and trembling lips then. her whole soul seemed going forth in an agonized appeal to that pierced heart; and i heard her murmur, "in vain! holy virgin, plead for me! it has been all in vain. the flesh is no more dead in me than the first day. that child's face and voice stir my heart more than all thy sorrows. this feeble tie of nature has more power in me than all the relationships of the heavenly city. it has been in vain--all, all in vain. i cannot quench the fires of earth in my heart." i scarcely ventured to interrupt her, but as she bowed her head on her hands, and fell almost prostrate on the floor of the chapel, while her whole frame heaved with repressed sobs, i went forward and gently lifted her, saying, "sister agnes, i am responsible for the sick to-night. you must come back." she did not resist. a shudder passed through her; then the old stony look came back to her face, more rigid then ever, and she suffered me to wrap her up in the bed, and give her a warm drink. i do not know whether she suspects that i heard her. she is more reserved with me than ever; but to me those resolute, fixed features, and that hard, firm voice, will never more be what they were before. no wonder that the admiration of the sisterhood has no power to elate aunt agnes, and that their wish to elect her sub-prioress had no seduction for her. she is striving in her inmost soul after an ideal, which, could she reach it, what would she be? as regards all human feeling and earthly life, _dead_! and just as she hoped this was attained, a voice--a poor, friendly child's voice--falls on her ear, and she finds that what she deemed death was only a dream in an undisturbed slumber, and that the whole work has to begin again. it is a fearful combat, this concentrating all the powers of life on producing death in life. can this be what god means? thank god, at least, that my vocation is lower. the humbling work in the infirmary, and the trials of temper in the school of the novices, seem to teach me more, and to make me feel that i _am_ nothing and have nothing in myself, more than all my efforts to _feel_ nothing. my "theologia" says, indeed, that true self-abnegation is freedom; and freedom cannot be attained until we are above the fear of punishment or the hope of reward. elsè cannot bear this; and when i spoke of it the other day to poor sister beatrice, she said it bewildered her poor brain altogether to think of it. but i do not take it in that sense. i think it must mean that love is its own reward; and grieving him we love, who has so loved us, our worst punishment. and that seems to me quite true. xii. elsè's story. wittemberg, _june_, . our eva seems happy at the convent. she has taken the vows, and is now finally sister ave. she has also sent us some eye-water for the father. but in spite of all we can do his sight seems failing. in some way or other i think my father's loss of sight has brought blessing to the family. our grandmother, who is very feeble now, and seldom leaves her chair by the stove, has become much more tolerant of his schemes since there is no chance of their being carried out, and listens with remarkable patience to his statements of the wonders he would have achieved had his sight only been continued a few years. nor does the father himself seem as much dejected as one would have expected. when i was comforting him to-day by saying how much less anxious our mother looks, he replied,-- "yes, my child, the præter pluperfect subjunctive is a more comfortable tense to live in than the future subjunctive, for any length of time." i looked perplexed, and he explained, "it is easier, when once one has made up one's mind to it, to say, 'had i had this i might have done that,' than, 'if i can have this i shall do that,'--at least it is easier to the anxious and excitable feminine mind." "but to you, father?" "to me it is a consolation at last to be appreciated. even your grandmother understands at length how great the results would have been if i could only have had eye-sight to perfect that last invention for using steam to draw water." our grandmother must certainly have put great restraint on her usually frank expression of opinion, if she has led our father to believe she had any confidence in that last scheme; for, i must confess, that of all our father's inventions and discoveries, the whole family consider this idea about the steam the wildest and most impracticable of all. the secret of perpetual motion might, no doubt, be discovered, and a clock be constructed which would never need winding up,--i see no great difficulty in that. it might be quite possible to transmute lead into gold, or iron into silver, if one could find exactly the right proportions. my father has explained all that to me quite clearly. the elixir which would prolong life indefinitely seems to me a little more difficult; but this notion of pumping up water by means of the steam which issues from boiling water and disperses in an instant, we all agree in thinking quite visionary, and out of the question; so that it is, perhaps, as well our poor father should not have thrown away any more expense or time on it. besides, we had already had two or three explosions from his experiments; and some of the neighbours were beginning to say very unpleasant things about the black art, and witchcraft; so that on the whole, no doubt, it is all for the best. i would not, however, for the world, have hinted this to him; therefore i only replied, evasively,-- "our grandmother has indeed been much gentler and more placid lately." "it is not only that," he rejoined; "she has an intelligence far superior to that of most women,--she comprehends. and then," he continued, "i am not without hopes that that young nobleman, ulrich von gersdorf, who comes here so frequently and asks about eva, may one day carry out my schemes. he and chriemhild begin to enter into the idea quite intelligently. besides, there is master reichenbach, the rich merchant to whom your aunt cotta introduced us; he has money enough to carry things out in the best style. he certainly does not promise much, but he is an intelligent listener, and that is a great step. gottfried reichenbach is an enlightened man for a merchant, although he is, perhaps, rather slow in comprehension, and a little over-cautious." "he is not over-cautious in his alms, father," i said; "at least dr. martin luther says so." "perhaps not," he said. "on the whole, certainly, the citizens of wittemberg are very superior to those of eisenach, who were incredulous and dull to the last degree. it will be a great thing if reichenbach and von gersdorf take up this invention. reichenbach can introduce it at once among the patrician families of the great cities with whom he is connected, and von gersdorf would promote it among his kindred knights. it would not, indeed, be such an advantage to our family as if pollux and christopher, or our poor fritz, had carried it out. but never mind, elsè, my child, we were children of adam before we were cottas. we must think not only of the family, but of the world." master reichenbach, indeed, may take a genuine interest in my father's plans, but i have suspicions of ulrich von gersdorf. he seems to me far more interested in chriemhild's embroidery than in our father's steam-pump; and although he continues to talk of eva as if he thought her an angel, he certainly sometimes looks at chriemhild as if he thought her a creature as interesting. i do not like such transitions; and, besides, his conversation is so very different, in my opinion, from master reichenbach's. ulrich von gersdorf has no experience of life beyond a boar-hunt, a combat with some rival knights, or a foray on some defenceless merchants. his life has been passed in the castle of an uncle of his in the thuringian forest; yet i cannot wonder that chriemhild listens, with a glow of interest on her face, as she sits with her eyes bent on her embroidery, to his stories of ambushes and daring surprises. but to me this life seems rude and lawless. ulrich's uncle was unmarried; and they had no ladies in the castle except a widowed aunt of ulrich's, who seems to be as proud as lucifer, and especially to pride herself on being able to wear pearls and velvet, which no burgher's wife may appear in. ulrich's mother died early. i fancy she was gentler and of a truer nobleness. he says the only book they have in the castle is an old illuminated missal which belonged to her. he has another aunt, beatrice, who is in the convent at nimptschen with our eva. they sent her there to prevent her marrying the son of a family with whom they had a hereditary feud. i begin to feel, as fritz used to say, that the life of these petty nobles is not nearly so noble as that of the burghers. they seem to know nothing of the world beyond the little district they rule by terror. they have no honest way of maintaining themselves, but live by the hard toil of their poor oppressed peasants, and by the plunder of their enemies. herr reichenbach, on the other hand, is connected with the patrician families in the great city of nürnberg; and although he does not talk much, he has histories to tell of painters and poets, and great events in the broad field of the world. ah, i wish he had known fritz! he likes to hear me talk of him. and then, moreover, herr reichenbach has much to tell me about brother martin luther, who is at the head of the eremite or augustine convent here, and seems to me to be the great man of wittemberg; at least people appear to like him or dislike him more than any one else here. _october_ , . this has been a great day at wittemberg. friar martin luther has been created doctor of divinity. master reichenbach procured us excellent places, and we saw the degree conferred on him by dr. andrew bodenstein of carlstadt. the great bell of the city churches, which only sounds on great occasions, pealed as if for a church festival; all the university authorities marched in procession through the streets; and after taking the vow, friar martin was solemnly invested with the doctor's robes, hat, and ring--a massive gold ring presented to him by the elector. but the part which impressed me most was the oath, which dr. luther pronounced most solemnly, so that the words, in his fine clear voice, rang through the silence. he repeated it after dr. bodenstein, who is commonly called carlstadt. the words in latin, herr reichenbach says, were these (he wrote them for me to send to eva),-- "juro me veritatem evangelicam viriliter defensurum;" which herr reichenbach translated, "_i swear vigorously to defend evangelical truth._" this oath is only required at one other university beside wittemberg--that of tübingen. dr. luther swore it as if he were a knight of olden times, vowing to risk life and limb in some sacred cause. to me, who not could understand the words, his manner was more that of a warrior swearing on his sword, than of a doctor of divinity. and master reichenbach says, "what he has promised he will do!" chriemhild laughs at master reichenbach, because he has entered his name on the list of university students, in order to attend dr. luther's lectures. "with his grave old face, and his grey hair," she says, "to sit among those noisy student boys!" but i can see nothing laughable in it. i think it is a sign of something noble, for a man in the prime of life to be content to learn as a little child. and besides, whatever chriemhild may say, if herr reichenbach is a little bald, and has a few grey hairs, it is not on account of age. grown men, who think and feel, in these stormy times, cannot be expected to have smooth faces and full curly locks, like ulrich von gersdorf. i am sure if i were a man twice as old as he is, there is nothing i should like better than to attend dr. luther's lectures. i have heard him preach once in the city church, and it was quite different from any other sermon i ever heard. he spoke of god and christ, and heaven and hell, with as much conviction and simplicity as if he had been pleading some cause of human wrong, or relating some great events which happened on earth yesterday, instead of reciting it like a piece of latin grammar, as so many of the monks do. i began almost to feel as if i might at last find a religion that would do for me. even christopher was attentive. he said dr. luther called everything by such plain names, one could not help understanding. we have seen him once at our house. he was so respectful to our grandmother, and so patient with my father, and he spoke so kindly of fritz. fritz has written to us, and has recommended us to take dr. martin luther for our family confessor. he says he can never repay the good dr. luther has done to him. and certainly he writes more brightly and hopefully than he ever has since he left us, although he has, alas! finally taken those dreadful, irrevocable vows. _march_, . dr. luther has consented to be our confessor; and thank god i do believe at last i have found the religion which may make me, even me, love god. dr. luther says i have entirely misunderstood god and the lord jesus christ. he seemed to understand all i have been longing for and perplexing myself about all my life, with a glance. when i began to falter out my confessions and difficulties to him, he seemed to see them all spread before him, and explained them all to me. he says i have been thinking of god as a severe judge, an exactor, a harsh creditor, when he is a rich giver, a forgiving saviour, yea, the very fountain of inexpressible love. "god's love," he said, "gives in such a way that it flows from a father's heart, the well-spring of all good. the heart of the giver makes the gift dear and precious; as among ourselves we say of even a trifling gift, 'it comes from a hand we love,' and look not so much at the gift as at the heart." "if we will only consider him in his works, we shall learn that god is nothing else but pure, unutterable love, greater and more than any one can think. the shameful thing is, that the world does not regard this, nor thank him for it, although every day it sees before it such countless benefits from him; and it deserves for its ingratitude that the sun should not shine another moment longer, nor the grass grow; yet he ceases not, without a moment's interval, to love us, and to do us good. language must fail me to speak of his spiritual gifts. here he pours forth for us, not sun and moon, nor heaven and earth, but his own heart, his beloved son, so that he suffered his blood to be shed, and the most shameful death to be inflicted on him, for us wretched, wicked, thankless creatures. how, then, can we say anything but that god is an abyss of endless, unfathomable love?" "the whole bible," he says, "is full of this,--that we should not doubt, but be absolutely certain, that god is merciful, gracious, patient, faithful, and true; who not only will keep his promises, but already has kept and done abundantly beyond what he promised, since he has given his own son for our sins on the cross, that all who believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life." "whoever believes and embraces this," he added, "that god has given his only son to die for us poor sinners, to him it is no longer any doubt, but the most certain truth, that god reconciles us to himself, and is favourable and heartily gracious to us." "since the gospel shows us christ the son of god, who, according to the will of the father, has offered himself up for us, and has satisfied for sin, the heart can no more doubt god's goodness and grace,--is no more affrighted, nor flies from god, but sets all its hope in his goodness and mercy." "the apostles are always exhorting us," he says, "to continue in the love of god,--that is, that each one should entirely conclude in his heart that he is loved by god; and they set before our eyes a certain proof of it, in that god has not spared his son, but given him for the world, that through his death the world might again have life. "it is god's honour and glory to give liberally. his nature is all pure love; so that if any one would describe or picture god, he must describe one who is pure love, the divine nature being nothing else than a furnace and glow of such love that it fills heaven and earth. "love is an image of god, and not a dead image, nor one painted on paper, but the living essence of the divine nature, which burns full of all goodness. "he is not harsh, as we are to those who have injured us. we withdraw our hand and close our purse, but he is kind to the unthankful and the evil. "he sees thee in thy poverty and wretchedness, and knows thou hast nothing to pay. therefore he freely forgives, and gives thee all." "it is not to be borne," he said, "that christian people should say, we cannot know whether god is favourable to us or not. on the contrary, we should learn to say, i know that i believe in christ, and therefore that god is my gracious father." "what is the reason that god gives?" he said, one day. "what moves him to it? nothing but unutterable love, because he delights to give and to bless. what does he give? not empires merely, not a world full of silver and gold, not heaven and earth only, but his son, who is as great as himself,--that is, eternal and incomprehensible; a gift as infinite as the giver, the very spring and fountain of all grace; yea, the possession and property of all the riches and treasures of god." dr. luther said also, that the best name by which we can think of god is father. "it is a loving, sweet, deep, heart-touching name; for the name of father is in its nature full of inborn sweetness and comfort. therefore, also, we must confess ourselves children of god; for by this name we deeply touch our god, since there is not a sweeter sound to the father, than the voice of the child." all this is wonderful to me. i scarcely dare to open my hand, and take this belief home to my heart. is it then, indeed, thus we must think of god? is he, indeed, as dr. luther says, ready to listen to our feeblest cry, ready to forgive us, and to help us? and if he is indeed like this, and cares what we think of him, how i must have grieved him all these years! not a moment longer! i will not distrust thee a moment longer. see, heavenly father, i have come back! can it, indeed, be possible that god is pleased when we trust him,--pleased when we pray, simply because he loves us? can it indeed be true, as dr. luther says, that love is our greatest virtue; and that we please god best by being kind to each other, just because that is what is most like him? i am sure it is true. it is so good, it must be true. then it is possible for me, even for me, to love god. how is it possible for me _not_ to love him? and it is possible for me, even for me, to be religious, if to be religious is to love god, and to do whatever we can to make those around us happy. but if this is indeed religion, it is happiness, it is freedom,--it is life! why, then, are so many of the religious people i know of a sad countenance, as if they were bond-servants toiling for a hard master? i must ask dr. luther. _april_, . i have asked dr. luther, and he says it is because the devil makes a great deal of the religion we see; that he pretends to be christ, and comes and terrifies people, and scourges them with the remembrance of their sins, and tells them they must not dare to lift up their eyes to heaven, because god is so holy, and they are so sinful. but it is all because he knows that if they _would_ lift their eyes to heaven, their terrors would vanish, and they would see christ there, not as the judge, and the hard, exacting creditor, but as the pitiful, loving saviour. i find it a great comfort to believe in this way in the devil. has he not been trying to teach me his religion all my life? and now i have found him out! he has been telling me lies, not about myself (dr. luther says he cannot paint us more sinful than we are), but lies about god. it helps me almost as much to hear dr. luther speak about the devil as about god--"the malignant, sad spirit," he says, "who loves to make every one sad." with god's help, i will never believe him again. but dr. luther said i shall, often; that he will come again and malign god, and assail my peace in so many ways, that it will be long before i learn to know him. i shuddered when he told me this; but then he reassured me, by telling me a beautiful story, which, he said, was from the bible. it was about a good shepherd and silly, wandering sheep, and a wolf who sought to devour them. "all the care of the shepherd," he said, "is in the tenderest way to attract the sheep to keep close to him; and when they wander, he goes and seeks them, takes them on his shoulder, and carries them safe home. all our wisdom," he says, "is to keep always near this good shepherd, who is christ, and to listen to his voice." i know the lord jesus christ is called the good shepherd. i have seen the picture of him carrying the lamb on his shoulder. but until dr. luther explained it to me, i thought it meant that he was the lord and owner of all the world, who are his flock. but i never thought that he cared for _me_ as his sheep, sought me, called me, watched me, even me, day by day. other people, no doubt, have understood all this before. and yet, if so, why do not the monks preach of it? why should aunt agnes serve him in the convent by penances and self-tormentings, instead of serving him in the world by being kind and helping all around? why should our dear, gentle mother, have such sad, self-reproachful thoughts, and feel as if she and our family were under a curse? dr. luther said that christ was "made a curse for us;" that he, the unspotted and undefiled lamb of god, bore the curse for us on the cross; and that we, believing in him, are not under the curse, but under the blessing--that we are blessed. this, then, is what the crucifix and the _agnus dei_ mean. doubtless many around me have understood all this long ago. i am sure, at least, that our eva understood it. but what inexpressible joy for me, as i sit at my embroidery in the garden, to look up through the apple-blossoms and the fluttering leaves, and to see god's love there;--to listen to the thrush that has built his nest among them, and feel god's love, who cares for the birds, in every note that swells his little throat;--to look beyond to the bright blue depths of the sky, and feel they are a canopy of blessing--the roof of the house of my father; that if clouds pass over, it is the unchangeable light they veil; that, even when the day itself passes, i shall see that the night itself only unveils new worlds of light; and to know that if i could unwrap fold after fold of god's universe, i should only unfold more and more blessing, and see deeper and deeper into the love which is at the heart of all! and then what joy again to turn to my embroidery, and, as my fingers busily ply the needle, to think-- "this is to help my father and mother; this, even this, is a little work of love. and as i sit and stitch, god is pleased with me, and with what i am doing. he gives me this to do, as much as he gives the priests to pray, and dr. luther to preach. i am serving him, and he is near me in my little corner of the world, and is pleased with me--even with me!" oh, fritz and eva! if you had both known this, need you have left us to go and serve god so far away? have i indeed, like st. christopher, found my bank of the river, where i can serve my saviour by helping all the pilgrims i can? better, better than st. christopher; for do i not _know the voice_ that calls to me-- "elsè! elsè! do this for me?" and now i do not feel at all afraid to grow old, which is a great relief, as i am already six-and-twenty, and the children think me nearly as old as our mother. for what is growing old, if dr. martin luther is indeed right (and i am sure he is), but growing daily nearer god, and his holy, happy home! dr. luther says our saviour called heaven his father's house. not that i wish to leave this world. while god wills we should stay here, and is with us, is it not home-like enough for us? _may_, . this morning i was busy making a favourite pudding of the father's, when i heard herr reichenbach's voice at the door. he went into the dwelling room, and soon afterwards chriemhild, atlantis, and thekla, invaded the kitchen. "herr reichenbach wishes to have a consultation," said chriemhild, "and we are sent away." i felt anxious for a moment. it seemed like the old eisenach days; but since we have been at wittemberg we have never gone into debt; so that, after thinking a little, i was reassured. the children were full of speculations what it would be about. chriemhild thought it was some affair of state, because she had seen him in close confabulation with ulrich von gersdorf as he came up the street, and they had probably been discussing some question about the privileges of the nobles and burghers. atlantis believed it had something to do with dr. martin luther, because herr reichenbach had presented the mother with a new pamphlet of the doctor's on entering the room. thekla was sure it was at last the opportunity to make use of one of the father's discoveries,--whether the perpetual clock, or the transmutation of metals, or the steam-pump, she could not tell; but she was persuaded that it was something which was to make our fortunes at last, because herr reichenbach looked so very much in earnest, and was so very respectful to our father. they had not much time to discuss their various theories when we heard herr reichenbach's step pass hurriedly through the passage, and the door closed hastily after him. "do you call that a consultation?" said chriemhild, scornfully; "he has not been here ten minutes." the next instant our mother appeared, looking very pale, and with her voice trembling as she said,-- "elsè, my child, we want you." "you are to know first, elsè," said the children. "well, it is only fair; you are a dear good eldest sister, and will be sure to tell us." i scarcely knew why, but my fingers did not seem as much under control as usual, and it was some moments before i could put the finishing stroke to my pudding, wash my hands, pull down the white sleeves to my wrists, and join them in the dwelling room, so that my mother reappeared with an impatience very unusual for her, and led me in herself. "elsè, darling, come here," said my father. and when he felt my hands in his, he added, "herr reichenbach left a message for thee. other parents often decide these matters for their children, but thy mother and i wish to leave the matter to thee.--couldst thou be his wife?" the question took me by surprise, and i could only say,-- "can it be possible he thinks of me?" "i see nothing impossible in that, my elsè," said my father; "but at all events herr reichenbach has placed that beyond a doubt. the question now is whether our elsè can think of him." i could not say anything. "think well before you reject him," said my father; "he is a good and generous man, he desires no portion with thee; he says thou wouldst be a portion for a king; and i must say he is very intelligent and well-informed, and can appreciate scientific inventions as few men in these days can." "i do not wish him to be dismissed," i faltered. but my tender-hearted mother said, laying my head on her shoulder,-- "yet think well, darling, before you accept him. we are not poor now, and we need no stranger's wealth to make us happy. heaven forbid that our child should sacrifice herself for us. herr reichenbach, is, no doubt, a good and wise man, but i know well a young maiden's fancy. he is little, i know--not tall and stalwart, like our fritz and christopher; and he is a little bald, and he is not very young, and rather grave and silent, and young girls--" "but, mother," i said, "i am not a young girl, i am six-and-twenty; and i do not think herr reichenbach old, and i never noticed that he was bald, and i am sure to me he is not silent." "that will do, elsè," said the grandmother, laughing from her corner by the stove. "son and daughter, let these two settle it together. they will arrange matters better than we shall for them." and in the evening herr reichenbach came again, and everything was arranged. "and that is what the consultation was about!" said the children, not without some disappointment. "it seems such an ordinary thing," said atlantis, "we are so used to seeing herr reichenbach. he comes almost every day." "i do not see that that is any objection," said chriemhild; "but it seems hardly like being married, only just to cross the street. his house is just opposite." "but it is a great deal prettier than ours," said thekla. "i like herr reichenbach; no one ever took such an interest in my drawings as he does. he tells me where they are wrong, and shows me how to make them right, as if he really felt it of some consequence; which it is, you know, elsè, because one day i mean to embroider and help the family, like you. and no one was ever so kind to nix as he is. he took the dog on his knee the other day, and drew out a splinter which had lamed him, which nix would not let any one else do but me. nix is very fond of herr reichenbach, and so am i. he is much wiser, i think, than ulrich, who teases nix, and pretends never to know my cats from my cows; and i do not see that he is much older; besides, i could not bear our elsè to live a step further off." and thekla climbed up on my lap and kissed me, while nix stood on his hind legs and barked, evidently thinking it was a great occasion. so that two of the family at least have given their consent. but none of the family know yet what herr reichenbach said to me when we stood for a few minutes by the window, before he left this evening. he said-- "elsè, it is god who gives me this joy. ever since the evening when you all arrived at wittemberg, and i saw you tenderly helping the aged and directing the young ones, and never flurried in all the bustle, but always at leisure to thank any one for any little kindness, or to help any one out of any little difficulty, i thought you were the light of this home, and i prayed god one day to make you the light of mine." ah! that shows how love veils people's faults; but he did not know fritz, and not much of eva. they were the true sunshine of our home. however, at all events, with god's help, i will do my very best to make herr reichenbach's home bright. but the best of all is, i am not afraid to accept this blessing. i believe it is god, out of his inexpressible love, as dr. luther says, who has given it me, and i am not afraid he will think me too happy. before i had dr. luther for my confessor, i should never have known if it was to be a blessing or a curse; but now i am not afraid. a chain seems to have dropped from my heart, and a veil from my eyes, and i can call god father, and take everything fearlessly from him. and i know gottfried feels the same. since i never had a vocation for the higher religious life, it is an especial mercy for me to have found a religion which enables a very poor every-day maiden in the world to love god and to seek his blessing. _june._ our mother has been full of little tender apologies to me this week, for having called gottfried (herr reichenbach says i am to call him so) old, and bald, and little, and grave. "you know, darling, i only meant i did not want you to accept him for our sakes. and after all, as you say, he is scarcely bald; and they say all men who think much lose their hair early; and i am sure it is no advantage to be always talking; and every one cannot be as tall as our fritz and christopher." "and after all, dear mother," said the grandmother, "elsè did _not_ choose herr reichenbach for your sakes; but are you quite sure he did not choose elsè for her father's sake? he was always so interested in the steam-pump!" my mother and i are much cheered by seeing the quiet influence herr reichenbach seems to have over christopher, whose companions and late hours have often caused us anxiety lately. christopher is not distrustful of him, because he is no priest, and no great favourer of monks and convents; and he is not so much afraid about christopher as we timid, anxious women were beginning to be. he thinks there is good metal in him; and he says the best ore cannot look like gold until it is fused. it is so difficult for us women, who have to watch from our quiet homes afar, to distinguish the glow of the smelting furnace from the glare of a conflagration. wittemberg, _september_, . this morning, herr reichenbach, christopher, and ulrich von gersdorf (who is studying here for a time) came in full of excitement, from a discussion they had been hearing between dr. luther and some of the doctors and professors of erfurt. i do not know that i quite clearly understand what it was about; but they seemed to think it of great importance. our house has become rather a gathering place of late; partly, i think, on account of my father's blindness, which always insures that there will be some one at home. it seems that dr. luther attacks the old methods of teaching in the universities, which makes the older professors look on him as a dangerous innovator, while the young delight in him as a hero fighting their battles. and yet the authorities dr. luther wishes to re-instate are older than those he attacks. he demands that nothing shall be received as the standard of theological truth except the holy scriptures. i cannot understand why there should be so much conflict about this, because i thought all we believed was founded on the holy scriptures. i suppose it is not; but if not, on whose authority? i must ask gottfried this one day when we are alone. the discussion to-day was between dr. andrew bodenstein, archdeacon of wittemberg, dr. luther, and dr. jodocus of eisenach, called trutvetter, his old teacher. dr. carlstadt himself, they said, seemed quite convinced; and dr. jodocus is silenced and is going back to erfurt. the enthusiasm of the students is great. the great point of dr. luther's attack seems to be aristotle, who was a heathen greek. i cannot think why these church doctors should be so eager to defend him; but herr reichenbach says all the teaching of the schools and all the doctrine of indulgences are in some way founded on this aristotle, and that dr. luther wants to clear away everything which stands as a screen between the students and the bible. ulrich von gersdorf said that our doctor debates like his uncle, franz von sickingen, fights. he stands like a rock on some point he feels firm on; and then, when his opponents are weary of trying to move him, he rushes suddenly down on them, and sweeps them away like a torrent. "but his great secret seems to be," remarked christopher, "that he believes every word he says. he speaks, like other men work, as if every stroke were to tell." and gottfried said, quietly, "he is fighting the battle of god with the scribes and pharisees of our days; and whether he triumph or perish, the battle will be won. it is a battle, not merely against falsehood, but for truth, to keep a position he has won." "when i hear him," said ulrich, "i wish my student days over, and long to be in the old castle in the thuringian forest, to give everything good there a new impulse. he makes me feel the way to fight the world's great battles is for each to conquer the enemies of god in his own heart and home. he speaks of aristotle and augustine; but he makes me think of the sloth and tyranny in the castle, and the misery and oppression in the peasant's hut, which are to me what aristotle and the schoolmen are to him." "and i," said christopher, "when he speaks, think of our printing press, until my daily toil there seems the highest work i could do; and to be a printer, and wing such words as his through the world, the noblest thing on earth." "but his lectures fight the good fight even more than his disputations," remarked gottfried. "in these debates he clears the world of the foe; but in his explanations of the psalms and the romans, he carries the battle within, and clears the heart of the lies which kept it back from god. in his attacks on aristotle, he leads you to the bible as the one source of truth; in his discourses on justification by faith he leads you to god as the one source of holiness and joy." "they say poor dr. jodocus is quite ill with vexation at his defeat," said christopher; "and that there are many bitter things said against dr. luther at erfurt." "what does that matter," rejoined ulrich, "since wittemberg is becoming every month more thronged with students from all parts of germany, and the augustinian cloister is already full of young monks, sent hither from various convents, to study under dr. luther? the youth and vigour of the nation are with us. let the dead bury their dead." "ah, children," murmured the grandmother, looking up from her knitting, "that is a funeral procession that lasts long. the young always speak of the old as if they had been born old. do you think our hearts never throbbed high with hope, and that we never fought with dragons? yet the old serpent is not killed yet. nor will he be dead when we are dead, and you are old, and your grandchildren take their place in the old fight, and think they are fighting the first battle the world has seen, and vanquishing the last enemy." "perhaps not," said gottfried; "but the last enemy will be overcome at last, and who knows how soon?" wittemberg, _october_, . it is a strong bond of union between herr reichenbach and me, our reverence and love for dr. luther. he is lecturing now on the romans and the psalms, and as i sit at my spinning-wheel, or sew, gottfried often reads to me notes from these lectures, or tells me what they have been about. this is a comfort to me also, because he has many thoughts and doubts which, were it not for his friendship with dr. luther, would make me tremble for him. they are so new and strange to me; and as it is i never venture to speak of them to my mother. he thinks there is great need of reformations and changes in the church. he even thinks christopher not far from right in his dislike of many of the priests and monks, who, he says, lead lives which are a disgrace to christendom. but his chief detestation is the sale of indulgences, now preached in many of the towns of saxony by dr. tetzel. he says it is a shameless traffic in lies, and that most men of intelligence and standing in the great cities think so. and he tells me that a very good man, a professor of theology--dr. john wesel,--preached openly against them about fifty years ago at the university of erfurt, and afterwards at worms and mainz; and that john of goch and other holy men were most earnest in denouncing them. and when i asked if the pope did not sanction them, he said that to understand what the pope is one needs to go to rome. he went there in his youth, not on pilgrimage, but on mercantile business, and he told me that the wickedness he saw there, especially in the family of the reigning pope, the borgia, for many years made him hate the very name of religion. indeed, he said it was principally through dr. luther that he had begun again to feel there could be a religion, which, instead of being a cloak for sin, should be an incentive to holiness. he says also that i have been quite mistaken about "reineke fuchs;" that it is no vulgar jest-book, mocking at really sacred things, but a bitter, earnest satire against the hypocrisy which practices all kinds of sin in the name of sacred things. he doubts even if the calixtines and hussites are as bad as they have been represented to be. it alarms me sometimes to hear him say these things. his world is so much larger than mine, it is difficult for my thoughts to follow him into it. if the world is so bad, and there is so much hypocrisy in the holiest places, perhaps i have been hard on poor christopher after all. but if fritz has found it so, how unhappy it must make him! can really religious people like fritz and eva do nothing better for the world, but leave it to grow more and more corrupt and unbelieving, while they sit apart to weave their robes of sanctity in convents. it does seem time for something to be done. i wonder who will do it? i thought it might be the pope; but gottfried shakes his head, and says, "no good thing can begin at rome." "or the prelates?" i asked one day. "they are too intent," he said, "on making their courts as magnificent as those of the princes, to be able to interfere with the abuses by which their revenues are maintained." "or the princes?" "the friendship of the prelates is too important to them, for them to interfere in spiritual matters." "or the emperor?" "the emperor," he said, "has enough to do to hold his own against the princes, the prelates, and the pope." "or the knights?" "the knights are at war with the all world," he replied; "to say nothing of their ceaseless private feuds with each other. with the peasants rising on one side in wild insurrection, the great nobles contending against their privileges on the other, and the great burgher families throwing their barbarous splendour into the shade as much as the city palaces do their bare robber castles, the knights and petty nobles have little but bitter words to spare for the abuses of the clergy. besides, most of them have relations whom they hope to provide for with some good abbey." "then the peasants!" i suggested. "did not the gospel first take root among peasants?" "_inspired_ peasants and fishermen!" he replied, thoughtfully. "peasants who had walked up and down the land three years in the presence of the master. but who is to teach our peasants now? they cannot read!" "then it must be the burghers," i said. "each may be prejudiced in favour of his order," he replied, with a smile; "but i do think if better days dawn, it will be through the cities. there the new learning takes root; there the rich have society and cultivation, and the poor have teachers; and men's minds are brightened by contact and debate, and there is leisure to think and freedom to speak. if a reformation of abuses were to begin, i think the burghers would promote it most of all." "but who is to begin it?" i asked. "has no one ever tried?" "many have tried," he replied sadly; "and many have perished in trying. while they were assailing one abuse, others were increasing. or while they endeavoured to heal some open wound, some one arose and declared that it was impossible to separate the disease from the whole frame, and that they were attempting the life of our holy mother the church." "who, then, will venture to begin?" i said. "can it be dr. luther? he is bold enough to venture anything; and since he has done so much good to fritz, and to you, and to me, why not to the whole church?" "dr. luther is faithful enough, and bold enough for anything his conscience calls him to," said gottfried, "but he is occupied with saving men's souls, not with reforming ecclesiastical abuses." "but if the ecclesiastical abuses came to interfere with the salvation of men's souls," i suggested, "what would dr. luther do then?" "we should see, elsè," said gottfried. "if the wolves attacked one of dr. luther's sheep, i do not think he would care with what weapon he rescued it, or at what risk." xiii. eva's story. nimptschen, . great changes have taken place during these last three years in aunt cotta's home. elsè has been married more than two years, and sends me wonderful narratives of the beauty and wisdom of her little margarethe, who begins now to lisp the names of mother, and father, and aunts. elsè has also taught the little creature to kiss her hand to a picture they have of me, and call it cousin eva. they will not adopt my convent name. chriemhild also is betrothed to the young knight, ulrich von gersdorf, who has a castle in the thuringian forest; and she writes that they often speak of sister ave, and that he keeps the dried violets still, with a lock of his mother's hair and a relic of his patron saint. chriemhild says i should scarcely know him again, he is become so earnest and so wise, and so full of good purposes. and little thekla writes that she also understands something of latin. elsè's husband has taught her; and there is nothing elsè and gottfried reichenbach like so much as to hear her sing the hymns cousin eva used to sing. they seem to think of me as a kind of angel sister, who was early taken to god, and will never grow old. it is very sweet to be remembered thus; but sometimes it seems as if it were hardly me they were remembering or loving, but what i was or might have been. would they recognize cousin eva in the grave, quiet woman of twenty-two i have become? for whilst in the old home time seems to mark his course like a stream by growth and life, here in the convent he seems to mark it only by the slow falling of the shadow on the silent dial--the shadow of death. in the convent there is no growth but growing old. in aunt cotta's home the year expanded from winter into spring, and summer, and autumn--seed-time and harvest--the season of flowers and the season of fruits. the seasons grew into each other, we knew not how or when. in the convent the year is sharply divided into december, january, february, march, and april, with nothing to distinguish one month from another but their names and dates. in our old home the day brightened from dawn to noon, and then mellowed into sunset, and softly faded into night. here in the convent the day is separated into hours by the clock. sister beatrice's poor faded face is slowly becoming a little more faded; aunt agnes's a little more worn and sharp; and i, like the rest, am six years older than i was six years ago, when i came here; and that is all. it is true, fresh novices have arrived, and have taken the irrevocable vows, and fair young faces are around me; but my heart aches sometimes when i look at them, and think that they, like the rest of us, have closed the door on life, with all its changes, and have entered on that monotonous pathway to the grave whose stages are simply growing old. some of these novices come full of high aspirations for a religious life. they have been told about the heavenly spouse, who will fill their consecrated hearts with pure, unutterable joys, the world can never know. many come as sacrifices to family poverty or family pride, because their noble parents are too poor to maintain them suitably, or in order that their fortunes may swell the dower of some married sister. i know what disappointment is before them when they learn that the convent is but a poor, childish mimicry of the world, with its petty ambitions and rivalries, but without the life and the love. i know the noblest will suffer most, and may, perhaps, fall the lowest. to narrow, apathetic natures, the icy routine of habit will more easily replace the varied flow of life. they will fit into their harness sooner, and become as much interested in the gossip of the house or the order, the election of superiors, or the scandal of some neighbouring nunnery, as they would have become in the gossip of the town or village they would have lived in, in the world. but warm hearts and high spirits--these will chafe and struggle, and dream they have reached depths of self-abasement, or soared to heights of mystical devotion, and then awake, with bitter self-reproaches, to find themselves too weak to cope with some small temptation, like aunt agnes. these i will help all i can. but i have learned, since i came to nimptschen, that it is a terrible and perilous thing to take the work of the training of our souls out of god's hands into our own. the pruning-knife in his hands must sometimes wound and seem to impoverish; but in ours it cuts, and wounds, and impoverishes, and does _not_ prune. we can, indeed, inflict pain on ourselves; but god alone can make pain healing, or suffering discipline. i can only pray that, however mistaken many may be in immuring themselves here, thou who art the good physician wilt take us, with all our useless self-inflicted wounds, and all our wasted, self-stunted faculties, and as we are and as thou art, still train us for thyself. the infirmary is what interests me most. having secluded ourselves from all the joys and sorrows and vicissitudes of common life, we seem scarcely to have left anything in god's hands, wherewith to try our faith and subdue our wills to his, except sickness. bereavements we cannot know who have bereaved ourselves of all companionship with our beloved for evermore on earth. nor can we know the trials either of poverty or of prosperity, since we can never experience either; but, having taken the vow of voluntary poverty on ourselves, whilst we can never call anything individually our own, we are freed from all anxieties by becoming members of a richly-endowed order. sickness only remains beyond our control; and, therefore, when i see any of the sisterhood laid on the bed of suffering, i think-- "_god has laid thee there!_" and i feel more sure that it is the right thing. i still instruct the novices; but sometimes the dreary question comes to me-- "for _what_ am i instructing them?" life has no future for them--only a monotonous prolonging of the monotonous present. i try to feel, "i am training them for eternity." but who can do that but god, who inhabiteth eternity, and sees the links which connect every moment of the little circles of time with the vast circumference of the everlasting future? but i do my best. catharine von bora, a young girl of sixteen, who has lately entered the convent, interests me deeply. there is such strength in her character and such warmth in her heart. but alas! what scope is there for these here? aunt agnes has not opened her heart in any way to me. true, when i was ill, she watched over me as tenderly as aunt cotta could; but when i recovered, she seemed to repel all demonstrations of gratitude and affection, and went on with that round of penances and disciplines, which make the nuns reverence her as so especially saintly. sometimes i look with longing to the smoke and lights in the village we can see among the trees from the upper windows of the convent. i know that each little wreath of smoke comes from the hearth of a home where there are father and mother and little children; and the smoke wreaths seem to me to rise like holy clouds of incense to god our father in heaven. but the alms given so liberally by the sisterhood are given at the convent-gate, so that we never form any closer connection with the poor around us than that of beggars and almoners; and i long to be their _friend_. sometimes i am afraid i acted in impatient self-will in leaving aunt cotta's home, and that i should have served god better by remaining there, and that, after all, my departure may have left some little blank it would not have been useless to fill. as the girls marry, aunt cotta might have found me a comfort, and, as "cousin eva," i might perhaps have been more of a help to elsè's children than i can be to the nuns here as sister ave. but whatever might have been, it is impatience and rebellion to think of that now; and nothing can separate me from god and his love. somehow or other, however, even the "theologia germanica," and the high, disinterested communion with god it teaches, seemed sweeter to me, in the intervals of an interrupted and busy life, than as the business of this uninterrupted leisure. the hours of contemplation were more blessed for the very trials and occupations which seemed to hinder them. sometimes i feel as if my heart also were freezing, and becoming set and hard. i am afraid, indeed, it would, were it not for poor sister beatrice, who has had a paralytic stroke, and is now a constant inmate of the infirmary. she speaks at times very incoherently, and cannot think at any time connectedly. but i have found a book which interests her; it is the latin gospel of st. luke, which i am allowed to take from the convent library and translate to her. the narratives are so brief and simple, she can comprehend them, and she never wearies of hearing them. the very familiarity endears them, and to me they are always new. but it is very strange that there is nothing about penance or vows in it, or the adoration of the blessed virgin. i suppose i shall find that in the other gospels, or in the epistles, which were written after our lady's assumption into heaven. sister beatrice likes much to hear me sing the hymn by bernard of clugni, on the perpetuity of joy in heaven:[ ]-- here brief is the sighing, and brief is the crying, for brief is the life! the life there is endless, the joy there is endless, and ended the strife. what joys are in heaven? to whom are they given? ah! what? and to whom? the stars to the earth-born, "best robes" to the sin-worn, the crown for the doom! o country the fairest! our country the dearest, we press towards thee! o sion the golden! our eyes are now holden, thy light till we see: thy crystalline ocean, unvexed by commotion, thy fountain of life; thy deep peace unspoken, pure, sinless, unbroken,-- thy peace beyond strife: thy meek saints all glorious, thy martyrs victorious, who suffer no more; thy halls full of singing, thy hymns ever ringing along thy safe shore. like the lily for whiteness, like the jewel for brightness, thy vestments, o bride! the lamb ever with thee, the bridegroom is with thee,-- with thee to abide! we know not, we know not, all human words show not, the joys we may reach; the mansions preparing, the joys for our sharing, the welcome for each. o sion the golden! my eyes are still holden, thy light till i see; and deep in thy glory, unveiled then before me, my king, look on thee! [footnote : hic breve vivitur, hic breve plangitur, hic breve fletur, non breve vivere, non breve plangere, retribuetur. o retributio! stat brevis actio, vita perennis, o retributio! coelica mansio stat lue plenis, etc. etc., etc.] _april_, . the whole of the augustinian order in saxony has been greatly moved by the visitation of dr. martin luther. he has been appointed deputy vicar-general in the place of dr. staupitz, who has gone on a mission to the netherlands, to collect relics for the elector frederic's new church at wittemberg. last april dr. luther visited the monastery of grimma, not far from us; and through our prioress, who is connected with the prior of grimma, we hear much about it. he strongly recommends the study of the scriptures and of st. augustine, in preference to every other book, by the brethren and sisters of his order. we have begun to follow his advice in our convent, and a new impulse seems given to everything. i have also seen two beautiful letters of dr. martin luther's, written to two brethren of the augustinian order. both were written in april last, and they have been read by many amongst us. the first was to brother george spenlein, a monk at memmingen. it begins, "in the name of jesus christ." after speaking of some private pecuniary matters, he writes:-- "as to the rest, i desire to know how it goes with thy soul; whether, weary of its own righteousness, it learns to breathe and to trust in the righteousness of christ. for in our age the temptation to presumption burns in many, and chiefly in those who are trying with all their might to be just and good. ignorant of the righteousness of god, which in christ is given to us richly and without price, they seek in themselves to do good works, so that at last they may have confidence to stand before god, adorned with merits and virtues,--which is impossible. thou, when with us, wert of this opinion, and so was i; but now i contend against this error, although i have not yet conquered it. "therefore, my dear brother, learn christ and him crucified; learn to sing to him, and, despairing of thyself, to say to him, 'lord jesus, thou art my righteousness, but i am thy sin. thou hast taken me upon thyself, and given to me what is thine; thou hast taken on thee what thou was not, and has given to me what i was not.' take care not to aspire to such a purity that thou shalt no longer seem to thyself a sinner; for christ does not dwell except in sinners. for this he descended from heaven, where he abode with the just, that he might abide with sinners. meditate on this love of his, and thou shalt drink in his sweet consolations. for if, by our labours and afflictions, we could attain quiet of conscience, why did he die? therefore, only in him, by a believing self-despair, both of thyself and of thy works, wilt thou find peace. for he has made thy sins his, and his righteousness he has made thine." aunt agnes seemed to drink in these words like a patient in a raging fever. she made me read them over to her again and again, and then translate and copy them; and now she carries them about with her everywhere. to me the words that follow are as precious. dr. luther says, that as christ hath borne patiently with us wanderers, we should also bear with others. "prostrate thyself before the lord jesus," he writes, "seek all that thou lackest. he himself will teach thee all, even to do for others as he has done for thee." the second letter was to brother george leiffer of erfurt. it speaks of affliction thus:-- "the cross of christ is divided throughout the whole world. to each his portion comes in time, and does not fail. thou, therefore, do not seek to cast thy portion from thee, but rather receive it as a holy relic, to be enshrined, not in a gold or silver reliquary, but in the sanctuary of a golden, that is, a loving and submissive heart. for if the wood of the cross was so consecrated by contact with the flesh and blood of christ that it is considered as the noblest of relics, how much more are injuries, persecutions, sufferings, and the hatred of men, sacred relics, consecrated not by the touch of his body, but by contact with his most loving heart and godlike will! these we should embrace, and bless, and cherish, since through him the curse is transmuted into blessing, suffering into glory, the cross into joy." sister beatrice delights in these words, and murmurs them over to herself as i have explained them to her. "yes, i understand; this sickness, helplessness,--all i have lost and suffered,--are sacred relics from my saviour; not because he forgets, but because he remembers me--he remembers me. sister ave, i am content." and then she likes me to sing her favourite hymn _jesu dulcis memoria_:-- o jesus, thy sweet memory can fill the heart with ecstasy; but passing all things sweet that be, thy presence, lord, to me. what hope, o jesus, thou canst render to those who other hopes surrender! to those who seek thee, o how tender! but what to those who find! with mary, ere the morning break, him at the sepulchre i seek,-- would hear him to my spirit speak, and see him with my heart. wherever i may chance to be, thee first my heart desires to see; how glad when i discover thee; how blest when i retain! beyond all treasures is thy grace;-- oh, when wilt thou thy steps retrace and satisfy me with thy face, and make me wholly glad? then come, oh, come, thou perfect king, of boundless glory, boundless spring; arise, and fullest daylight bring, jesus, expected long! _may_, . aunt agnes has spoken to me at last. abruptly and sternly, as if more angry with herself than repenting or rejoicing, she said to me this morning, "child, those words of dr. luther's have reached my heart. i have been trying all my life to be a saint, and so to reach god. and i have failed utterly. and now i learn that i am a sinner, and yet that god's love reaches me. the cross, the cross of christ, is my pathway from hell to heaven. i am not a saint. i shall never be a saint. christ is the only saint, the holy one of god; and he has borne my sins, and he is my righteousness. he has done it all; and i have nothing left but to give him all the glory, and to love, to love, to love him to all eternity. and i will do it," she added fervently, "poor, proud, destitute, and sinful creature that i am. i cannot help it; i must." but strong and stern as the words were, how changed aunt agnes's manner!--humble and simple as a child's. and as she left me for some duty in the house, she kissed my forehead, and said, "ah, child, love me a little, if you can,--not as a saint, but as a poor, sinful old woman, who among her worst sins has counted loving thee too much, which was perhaps, after all, among the least; love me a little, eva, for my sister's sake, whom you love so much." xiv. elsè's story. _august_, . yes, our little gretchen is certainly a remarkable child. although she is not yet two years old, she knows all of us by name. she tyranizes over us all, except me. i deny her many things which she cries for; except when gottfried is present, who, unfortunately, cannot bear to see her unhappy for a moment, and having (he says) had his temper spoilt in infancy by a cross nurse, has no notion of infant education, except to avoid contradiction. christopher, who always professed a supreme contempt for babies, gives her rides on his shoulder in the most submissive manner. but best of all, i love to see her sitting on my blind father's knee, and stroking his face with a kind of tender, pitiful reverence, as if she felt there was something missing there. i have taught her, too, to say fritz's name, when i show her the little lock i wear of his hair; and to kiss eva's picture. i cannot bear that they should be as lost or dead to her. but i am afraid she is perplexed between eva's portrait and the picture of the holy virgin, which i teach her to bow and cross her forehead before; because sometimes she tries to kiss the picture of our lady, and to twist her little fingers into the sacred sign before eva's likeness. however, by-and-by she will distinguish better. and are not eva and fritz indeed our family saints and patrons? i do believe their prayers bring down blessings on us all. for our family has bean so much blessed lately! the dear mother's face looks so bright, and has regained something of its old sweet likeness to the mother of mercy. and i am so happy, so brimful of happiness. and it certainly does make me feel more religious than i did. not the home-happiness only, i mean, but that best blessing of all, that came first, before i knew that gottfried cared for me,--the knowledge of the love of god to me,--that best riches of all, without which all our riches would be mere cares--the riches of the treasury of god freely opened to us in christ jesus our lord. gottfried is better than i ever thought he was. perhaps he really grows better every year; certainly he seems better and dearer to me. chriemhild and ulrich are to be married very soon. he has gone now to see franz von sickingen, and his other relations in the rhineland, and to make arrangements connected with his marriage. last year chriemhild and atlantis stayed some weeks at the old castle in the thuringian forest, near eisenach. a wild life it seemed to be, from their description, deep in the heart of the forest, in a lonely fortress on a rock, with only a few peasants' huts in sight; and with all kinds of strange legends of demon huntsmen, and elves, and sprites haunting the neighborhood. to me it seems almost as desolate as the wilderness where john the baptist lived on locusts and wild honey; but chriemhild thought it delightful. she made acquaintance with some of the poor peasants, and they seemed to think her an angel,--an opinion (atlantis says) shared by ulrich's old uncle and aunt, to say nothing of ulrich himself. at first the aged aunt hermentrude was rather distant; but on the schönberg pedigree having been duly tested and approved, the old lady at length considered herself free to give vent to her feelings, whilst the old knight courteously protested that he had always seen chriemhild's pedigree in her face. and ulrich says there is one great advantage in the solitude and strength of his castle,--he could offer an asylum at any time to dr. luther, who has of late become an object of bitter hatred to some of the priests. dr. luther is most kind to our little gretchen, whom he baptized. he says little children often understand god better than the wisest doctors of divinity. thekla has experienced her first sorrow. her poor little foundling, nix, is dead. for some days the poor creature had been ailing, and at last he lay for some hours quivering, as if with inward convulsions; yet at thekla's voice the dull, glassy eyes would brighten, and he would wag his tail feebly as he lay on his side. at last he died; and thekla was not to be comforted, but sat apart and shed bitter tears. the only thing which cheered her was christopher's making a grave in the garden for nix, under the pear tree where i used to sit at embroidery in summer, as now she does. it was of no use to try to laugh her out of her distress. her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears if any one attempted it. atlantis spoke seriously to her on the duty of a little girl of twelve beginning to put away childish things; and even the gentle mother tenderly remonstrated, and said one day, when dr. luther had asked her for her favourite, and had been answered by a burst of tears, "my child, if you mourn so for a dog, what will you do when real sorrows come?" but dr. luther seemed to understand thekla better than any of us, and to take her part. he said she was a child, and her childish sorrows were no more trifles to her than our sorrows are to us; that from heaven we might probably look on the fall of an empire as of less moment than we now thought the death of thekla's dog; yet that the angels who look down on us from heaven do not despise our little joys and sorrows, nor should we those of the little ones; or words to this effect. he has a strange sympathy with the hearts of children. thekla was so encouraged by his compassion, that she crept close to him and laid her hand in his, and said, with a look of wistful earnestness, "will nix rise again at the last day? will there be dogs in the other world?" many of us were appalled at such an irreverent idea; but dr. luther did not seem to think it irreverent. he said, "we know less of what that other world will be than this little one, or than that babe," he added, pointing to my little gretchen, "knows of the empires or powers of this world. but of this we are sure, the world to come will be no empty, lifeless waste. see how full and beautiful the lord god has made all things in this passing, perishing world of heaven and earth! how much more beautiful, then, will he make that eternal, incorruptible world! god will make new heavens and a new earth. all poisonous, and malicious, and hurtful creatures will be banished thence,--all that our sin has ruined. all creatures will not only be harmless, but lovely, and pleasant, and joyful, so that we might play with them. 'the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice's den.' why, then, should there not be little dogs in the new earth, whose skin might be fair as gold, and their hair as bright as precious stones?" certainly, in thekla's eyes, from that moment there has been no doctor of divinity like dr. luther. torgau, _november_ , . the plague is at wittemberg. we have all taken refuge here. the university is scattered, and many, also, of the augustinian monks. dr. luther remains in the convent at wittemberg. we have seen a copy of a letter of his, dated the th october, and addressed to the venerable father john lange, prior of erfurt monastery. "health. i have need of two secretaries or chancellors, since all day long i do nothing but write letters; and i know not whether, always writing, i may not sometimes repeat the same things. thou wilt see. "i am convent lecturer; reader at meals; i am desired to be daily parish preacher; i am director of studies, vicar (_i. e._, prior eleven times over), inspector of the fish-ponds at litzkau, advocate of the cause of the people of herzberg at torgau, lecturer on paul and on the psalms; besides what i have said already of my constant correspondence. i have rarely time to recite my canonical hours, to say nothing of my own particular temptations from the world, the flesh, and the devil. see what a man of leisure i am! "concerning brother john metzel i believe you have already received my opinion. i will see, however, what i can do. how can you think i can find room for your sardanapaluses and sybarites? if you have educated them ill, you must bear with those you have educated ill. i have enough useless brethren;--if, indeed, any are useless to a patient heart. i am persuaded that the useless may become more useful than those who are the most useful now. therefore bear with them for the time. "i think i have already written to you about the brethren you sent me. some i have sent to magister spangenburg, as they requested, to save their breathing this pestilential air. with two from cologne i felt such sympathy, and thought so much of their abilities, that i have retained them, although at much expense. twenty-two priests, forty-two youths, and in the university altogether forty-two persons are supported out of our poverty. but the lord will provide. "you say that yesterday you began to lecture on the sentences. to-morrow i begin the epistle to the galatians; although i fear that, with the plague among us as it is, i shall not be able to continue. the plague has taken away already two or three among us, but not all in one day; and the son of our neighbour faber, yesterday in health, to-day is dead; and another is infected. what shall i say? it is indeed here, and begins to rage with great cruelty and suddenness, especially among the young. you would persuade me and master bartholomew to take refuge with you. why should i flee? i hope the world would not collapse if brother martin fell. if the pestilence spreads, i will indeed disperse the monks throughout the land. as for me, i have been placed here. my obedience as a monk does not suffer me to fly; since what obedience required once, it demands still. not that i do not fear death--(i am not the apostle paul, but only the reader of the apostle paul)--but i hope the lord will deliver me from my fear. "farewell; and be mindful of us in this day of the visitation of the lord, to whom be glory." this letter has strengthened me and many. yes, if it had been our duty, i trust, like dr. luther, we should have had courage to remain. the courage of his act strengthens us; and also the confession of fear in his words. it does not seem a fear which hath torment, or which fetters his spirit. it does not even crush his cheerfulness. it is a natural fear of dying, which i also cannot overcome. from me, then, as surely from him, when god sees it time to die, he will doubtless remove the dread of death. this season of the pestilence recalls so much to me of what happened when the plague last visited us at eisenach! we have lost some since then,--if i ought to call eva and fritz lost. but how my life has been enriched! my husband, our little gretchen; and then so much outward prosperity! all that pressure of poverty and daily care entirely gone, and so much wherewith to help others! and yet, am i so entirely free from care as i ought to be? am i not even at times more burdened with it? when first i married, and had gottfried on whom to unburden every perplexity, and riches which seemed to me inexhaustible, instead of poverty, i thought i should never know care again. but is it so? have not the very things themselves, in their possession, become cares? when i hear of these dreadful wars with the turks, and of the insurrections and disquiets in various parts, and look round on our pleasant home, and gardens, and fields, i think how terrible it would be again to be plunged into poverty, or that gretchen ever should be; so that riches themselves become cares. it makes me think of what a good man once told me: that the word in the bible which is translated "rich," in speaking of abraham, in other places is translated "heavy;" so that instead of reading, "abraham left egypt _rich_ in cattle and silver and gold," we might read "_heavy_ in cattle, silver, and gold." yes, we are on a pilgrimage to the holy city; we are in flight from an evil world; and too often riches are weights which hinder our progress. i find it good, therefore, to be here in the small, humble house we have taken refuge in--gottfried, gretchen, and i. the servants are dispersed elsewhere; and it lightens my heart to feel how well we can do without luxuries which were beginning to seem like necessaries. dr. luther's words come to my mind; "the covetous enjoy what they have as little as what they have not. they cannot even rejoice in the sunshine. they think not what a noble gift the light is--what an inexpressibly great treasure the sun is, which shines freely on all the world." yes, god's common gifts are his most precious; and his most precious gifts--even life itself--have no root in _themselves_. not that they are _without_ root; they are _better_ rooted in the depths of his unchangeable love. it is well to be taught, by such a visitation even as this pestilence, the utter insecurity of everything here. "if the ship itself," as gottfried says, "is exposed to shipwreck, who, then, can secure the cargo?" henceforth let me be content with the only security dr. luther says god will give us,--the security of his presence and cure: "_i will never leave thee._" wittemberg, _june_, . we are at home once more; and, thank god, our two households are undiminished, save by one death--that of our youngest sister, the baby when we left eisenach. the professors and students also have returned. dr. luther, who remained here all the time, is preaching with more force and clearness. the town is greatly divided in opinion about him. dr. tetzel, the great papal commissioner for the sale of indulgences, has established his red cross, announcing the sale of pardons, for some months, at jüterbok and zerbst, not far from wittemberg. numbers of the townspeople, alarmed, i suppose, by the pestilence, into anxiety about their souls, have repaired to dr. tetzel, and returned with the purchased tickets of indulgence. i have always been perplexed as to what the indulgences really give. christopher has terrible stories about the money paid for them being spent by dr. tetzel and others on taverns and feasts; and gottfried says, "it is a bargain between the priests, who love money, and the people, who love sin." yesterday morning i saw one of the letters of indulgence for the first time. a neighbour of ours, the wife of a miller, whose weights have been a little suspected in the town, was in a state of great indignation when i went to purchase some flour of her. "see!" she said; "this dr. luther will be wiser than the pope himself. he has refused to admit my husband to the holy sacrament unless he repents and confesses to him, although he took his certificate in his hand." she gave it to me, and i read it. certainly, if the doctors of divinity disagree about the value of these indulgences, dr. tetzel has no ambiguity nor uncertainty in his language. "i," says the letter, "absolve thee from all the excesses, sins, and crimes which thou hast committed, however great and enormous they may be. i remit for thee the pains thou mightest have had to endure in purgatory. i restore thee to participation in the sacraments. i incorporate thee afresh into the communion of the church. i re-establish thee in the innocence and purity in which thou wast at the time of thy baptism. so that, at the moment of thy death, the gate by which souls pass into the place of torments will be shut upon thee; while, on the contrary, that which leads to the paradise of joy will be open unto thee. and if thou art not called on to die soon, this grace will remain unaltered for the time of thy latter end. "in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost, "friar john tetzel, commissary, has signed it with his own hand." "to think," said my neighbour, "of the pope promising my franz admittance into paradise; and dr. luther will not even admit him to the altar of the parish church? and after spending such a sum on it! for the friar must surely have thought my husband better off than he is, or he would not have demanded gold of poor struggling people like us." "but if the angels at the gate of paradise should be of the same mind as dr. luther?" i suggested, "would it not be better to find that out here than there?" "it is impossible," she replied; "have we not the holy father's own word? and did we not pay a whole golden florin? it is impossible it can be in vain." "put the next florin in your scales instead of in dr. tetzel's chest, neighbour," said a student, laughing, as he heard her loud and angry words; "it may weigh heavier with your flour than against your sins." i left them to finish the discussion. gottfried says it is quite true that dr. luther in the confessional in the city churches has earnestly protested to many of his penitents against their trusting to these certificates, and has positively refused to suffer any to communicate, except on their confessing their sins, and promising to forsake them, whether provided with indulgences or not. in his sermon to the people last year on the ten commandments, he told them forgiveness was freely given to the penitent by god, and was not to be purchased at any price, least of all with money. wittemberg, _july_ . the whole town is in a ferment to-day, on account of dr. luther's sermon yesterday, preached before the elector in the castle church. the congregation was very large, composed of the court, students, and townspeople. not a child or ignorant peasant there but could understand the preacher's words. the elector had procured especial indulgences from the pope in aid of his church, but dr. luther made no exception to conciliate him. he said the holy scriptures nowhere demand of us any penalty or satisfaction for our sins. god gives and forgives freely without price, out of his unutterable grace; and lays on the forgiven no other duty than true repentance and sincere conversion of the heart, resolution to bear the cross of christ, and do all the good we can. he declared also that it would be better to give money freely towards the building of st. peter's church at rome, than to bargain with alms for indulgences; that it was more pleasing to god to give to the poor, than to buy these letters, which, he said, would at the utmost do nothing more for any man than remit mere ecclesiastical penances. as we returned from the church together, gottfried said,-- "the battle-cry is sounded then at last! the wolf has assailed dr. luther's own flock, and the shepherd is roused. the battle-cry is sounded, elsè, but the battle is scarcely begun." and when we described the sermon to our grandmother, she murmured,-- "it sounds to me, children, like an old story of my childhood. have i not heard such words half a century since in bohemia? and have i not seen the lips which spoke them silenced in flames and blood? neither dr. luther nor any of you know whither you are going. thank god, i am soon going to him who died for speaking just such words! thank god i hear them again before i die! i have doubted long about them and about everything; how could i dare to think a few proscribed men right against the whole church? but since these old words cannot be hushed, but rise from the dead again, i think there must be life in them; eternal life. children," she concluded, "tell me when dr. luther preaches again; i will hear him before i die, that i may tell your grandfather, when i meet him, the old truth is not dead. i think it would give him another joy, even before the throne of god." wittemberg, _august_. christopher has returned from jüterbok. he saw there a great pile of burning faggots, which dr. tetzel had caused to be kindled in the market-place, "to burn the heretics," he said. we laughed as he related this, and also at the furious threats and curses that had been launched at dr. luther from the pulpit in front of the iron money-chest. but our grandmother said, "it is no jest, children; they have done it, and they will do it again yet!" wittemberg, _november_ , ; all saints' day. yesterday evening, as i sat at the window with gottfried in the late twilight, hushing gretchen to sleep, we noticed dr. luther walking rapidly along the street towards the castle church. his step was firm and quick, and he seemed too full of thought to observe anything as he passed. there was something unusual in his bearing, which made my husband call my attention to him. his head was erect and slightly thrown back, as when he preaches. he had a large packet of papers in his hand, and although he was evidently absorbed with some purpose, he had more the air of a general moving to a battle-field than of a theologian buried in meditation. this morning, as we went to the early mass of the festival, we saw a great crowd gathered around the doors of the castle church; not a mob, however, but an eager throng of well-dressed men, professors, citizens, and students; those within the circle reading some writing which was posted on the door, whilst around, the crowd was broken into little knots, in eager but not loud debate. gottfried asked what had happened. "it is only some latin theses against the indulgences, by dr. luther," replied one of the students, "inviting a disputation on the subject." i was relieved to hear that nothing was the matter, and gottfried and i quietly proceeded to the service. "it is only an affair of the university," i said. "i was afraid it was some national disaster, an invasion of the turks, or some event in the elector's family." as we returned, however, the crowd had increased, and the debate seemed to be becoming warm among some of them. one of the students was translating the latin into german for the benefit of the unlearned, and we paused to listen. what he read seemed to me very true, but not at all remarkable. we had often heard dr. luther say and even preach similar things. at the moment we came up the words the student was reading were,-- "it is a great error for one to think to make satisfaction for his sins, in that god always forgives gratuitously and from his boundless grace, requiring nothing in return but holy living." this sentence i remember distinctly, because it was so much like what we had heard him preach. other propositions followed, such as that it was very doubtful if the indulgences could deliver souls from purgatory, and that it was better to give alms than to buy indulgences. but why these statements should collect such a crowd, and excite such intense interest, i could not quite understand, unless it was because they were in latin. one sentence, i observed, aroused very mingled feelings in the crowd. it was the declaration that the holy scriptures alone could settle any controversy, and that all the scholastic teachers together could not give authority to one doctrine. the students and many of the citizens received this announcement with enthusiastic applause, and some of the professors testified a quiet approval of it; but others of the doctors shook their heads, and a few retired at once, murmuring angrily as they went. at the close came a declaration by dr. luther, that "whatever some unenlightened and morbid people might say, he was no heretic." "why should dr. luther think it necessary to conclude with a declaration that he is no heretic?" i said to gottfried as we walked home. "can anything be more full of respect for the pope and the church than many of these theses are? and why should they excite so much attention? dr. luther says no more than so many of us think!" "true, elsè," replied gottfried, gravely; "but to know how to say what other people only think, is what makes men poets and sages; and to dare to say what others only dare to think, makes men martyrs or reformers, or both." _november_ . it is wonderful the stir these theses make. christopher cannot get them printed fast enough. both the latin and german printing-presses are engaged, for they have been translated, and demands come for them from every part of germany. dr. tetzel, they say, is furious, and many of the prelates are uneasy as to the result; the new bishop has dissuaded dr. luther from publishing an explanation of them. it is reported that the elector frederick it not quite pleased, fearing the effect on the new university, still in its infancy. students, however, are crowding to the town, and to dr. luther's lectures, more than ever. he is the hero of the youth of germany. but none are more enthusiastic about him than our grandmother. she insisted on being taken to church on all saints' day, and tottering up the aisle, took her place immediately under dr. luther's pulpit, facing the congregation. she had eyes or ears for none but him. when he came down the pulpit stairs she grasped his hand, and faltered out a broken blessing. and after she came home she sat a long time in silence, occasionally brushing away tears. when gottfried and i took leave for the night, she held one of our hands in each of hers, and said,-- "children! be braver than i have been; that man preaches the truth for which my husband died. god sends him to you. be faithful to him. take heed that you forsake him not. it is not given to every one as to me to have the light they forsook in youth restored to them in old age. to me his words are like voices from the dead. they are worth dying for." my mother is not so satisfied. she likes what dr. luther says, but she is afraid what aunt agnes might think of it. she thinks he speaks too violently sometimes. she does not like any one to be pained. she cannot herself much like the way they sell the indulgences, but she hopes dr. tetzel means well, and she has no doubt that the pope knows best; and she is convinced that in their hearts all good people mean the same, only she is afraid, in the heat of discussion, every one will go further than any one intends, and so there will be a great deal of bad feeling. she thought it was quite right of dr. luther quietly to admonish any of his penitents who were imagining they could be saved without repentance; but why he should excite all the town in this way by these theses she could not understand; especially on all saints' day, when so many strangers came from the country, and the holy relics were exhibited, and every one ought to be absorbed with their devotions. "ah, little mother," said my father, "women are too tender-hearted for ploughmen's work. you could never bear to break up the clods, and tear up all the pretty wild flowers. but when the harvest comes we will set you to bind up the sheaves, or to glean beside the reapers. no rough hands of men will do that so well as yours." and gottfried said his vow as doctor of divinity makes it as much dr. luther's plain duty to teach true divinity, as his priestly vows oblige him to guard his flock from error and sin. gottfried says we have fallen on stormy times. for him that may be best, and by his side all is well for me. besides, i am accustomed to rough paths. but when i look on our little tender gretchen, as her dimpled cheek rests flushed with sleep on her pillow, i cannot help wishing the battle might not begin in her time. dr. luther counted the cost before he fixed these theses to the church door. it was this which made him do it so secretly, without consulting any of his friends. he knew there was risk in it, and he nobly resolved not to involve any one else--elector, professor, or pastor--in the danger he incurred without hesitation for himself. _december_, . in one thing we all agreed, and that is in our delight in dr. luther's lectures on st. paul's epistle to the galatians. gottfried heard them and took notes, and reported them to us in my father's house. we gather around him, all of us, in the winter evenings, while he reads those inspiring words to us. never, i think, were words like them. yesterday he was reading to us, for the twentieth time, what dr. luther said on the words, "who loved me, and gave himself for me." "read with vehemency," he says, "those words 'me,' and 'for me.' print this 'me' in thy heart, not doubting that thou art of the number to whom this 'me' belongeth; also, that christ hath not only loved peter and paul, and given himself for them, but that the same grace also which is comprehended in this 'me,' as well pertaineth and cometh unto us as unto them. for as we cannot deny that we are all sinners, all lost; so we cannot deny that christ died for our sins. therefore, when i feel and confess myself to be a sinner, why should i not say that i am made righteous through the righteousness of christ, especially when i hear he loved me and gave himself for me?" and then my mother asked for the passages she most delights in: "o christ, i am thy sin, thy curse, thy wrath of god, thy hell; and contrariwise, thou art my righteousness, my blessing, my life, my grace of god, my heaven." and again, when he speaks of christ being "made a curse for us, the unspotted and undefiled lamb of god wrapped in our sins, god not laying our sins upon us, but upon his son, that he, bearing the punishment thereof, might be our peace, that by his stripes, we might be healed." and again:-- "sin is a mighty conqueror, which devoureth all mankind, learned and unlearned, holy, wise, and mighty men. this tyrant flieth upon christ, and will needs swallow him up as he doth all other. but he seeth not that christ is a person of invincible and everlasting righteousness. therefore in this combat sin must needs be vanquished and killed; and righteousness must overcome, live, and reign. so in christ all sin is vanquished, killed, and buried; and righteousness remaineth a conqueror, and reigneth for ever. "in like manner death, which is an omnipotent queen and empress of the whole world, killing kings, princes, and all men, doth mightily encounter with life, thinking utterly to overcome it and to swallow it up. but because the life was immortal, therefore when it was overcome, it nevertheless overcame, vanquishing and killing death. death, therefore, through christ, is vanquished and abolished, so that now it is but a painted death, which, robbed of its sting, can no more hurt those that believe in christ, who is become the death of death. "so the curse hath the like conflict with the blessing, and would condemn and bring it to nought; but it cannot. for the blessing is divine and everlasting, therefore the curse must needs give place. for if the blessing in christ could be overcome, then would god himself be overcome. but this is impossible; therefore christ, the power of god, righteousness, blessing, grace, and life, overcometh and destroyeth those monsters, sin, death, and the curse, without war and weapons, in this our body, so that they can no more hurt those that believe." such truths are indeed worth battling for; but who, save the devil, would war against them? i wonder what fritz would think of it all. wittemberg, _february_, . christopher returned yesterday evening from the market-place, where the students have been burning tetzel's theses, which he wrote in answer to dr. luther's. tetzel hides behind the papal authority, and accuses dr. luther of assailing the holy father himself. but dr. luther says nothing shall ever make him a heretic; that he will recognise the voice of the pope as the voice of christ himself. the students kindled this conflagration in the market-place entirely on their own responsibility. they are full of enthusiasm for dr. martin, and of indignation against tetzel and the dominicans. "who can doubt," said christopher, "how the conflict will end, between all learning and honesty and truth on the one side, and a few contemptible avaricious monks on the other?" and he proceeded to describe to us the conflagration and the sayings of the students with as much exultation as if it had been a victory over tetzel and the indulgence-mongers themselves. "but it seems to me," i said, "that dr. luther is not so much at ease about it as you are. i have noticed lately that he looks grave, and at times very sad. he does not seem to think the victory won." "young soldiers," said gottfried, "on the eve of their first battle may be as blithe as on the eve of a tourney. veterans are grave before the battle. their courage comes _with_ the conflict. it will be thus, i believe, with dr. luther. for surely the battle is coming. already some of his old friends fall off. they say the censor at rome, prierias, has condemned and written against his theses." "but," rejoined christopher, "they say also that pope leo praised dr. luther's genius, and said it was only the envy of the monks which found fault with him. dr. luther believes the pope only needs to learn the truth about these indulgence-mongers to disown them at once." "honest men believe all men honest until they are proved dishonest," said gottfried drily; "but the roman court is expensive and the indulgences are profitable." this morning our grandmother asked nervously what was the meaning of the shouting she had heard yesterday in the market-place, and the glare of fire she had seen, and the crackling? "only tetzel's lying theses," said christopher. she seemed relieved. "in my early days," she said, "i learned to listen too eagerly to sounds like that. but in those times they burned other things than books or papers in the market-places." "tetzel threatens to do so again," said christopher. "no doubt they will, if they can," she replied, and relapsed into silence. xv. fritz's story. augustinian convent, mainz, _november_, . seven years have passed since i have written anything in this old chronicle of mine, and as in the quiet of this convent once more i open it, the ink on the first pages is already brown with time; yet a strange familiar fragrance breathes from them, as of early spring flowers. my childhood comes back to me, with all its devout simplicity; my youth, with all its rich prospects and its buoyant, ardent, hopes. my childhood seems like one of those green quiet valleys in my native forests, like the valley of my native eisenach itself, when that one reach of the forest, and that one quiet town with its spires and church bells, and that one lowly home with its love, its cares, and its twilight talks in the lumber room, were all the world i could see. youth rises before me like that first journey through the forest to the university of erfurt, when the world opened to me like the plains from the breezy heights, a battle-field for glorious achievement, an unbounded ocean for adventure and discovery, a vast field for noble work. then came another brief interval, when once again the lowly home at eisenach became to me dearer and more than all the wide world beside, and all earth and all life seemed to grow sacred and to expand before me in the light of one pure, holy, loving maiden's heart. i have seen nothing so heaven-like since as she was. but then came the great crash which wrenched my life in twain, and made home and the world alike forbidden ground to me. at first, after that, for years i dared not think of eva. but since my pilgrimage to rome, i venture to cherish her memory again. i thank god every day that nothing can erase that image of purity and love from my heart. had it not been for that, and for the recollection of dr. luther's manly, honest piety, there are times when the very existence of truth and holiness on earth would have seemed inconceivable, such a chaos of corruption has the world appeared to me. how often has the little lowly hearth-fire, glowing from the windows of the old home, saved me from shipwreck, when "for many days neither sun nor stars appeared, and no small tempest lay on me." for i have lived during these years behind the veil of outward shows, a poor insignificant monk, before whom none thought it worth while to inconvenience themselves with masks or disguises. i have spent hour after hour, moreover, in the confessional. i have been in the sacristy before the mass, and at the convent feast after it. and i have spent months once and again at the heart of christendom, in rome itself, where the indulgences which are now stirring up all germany are manufactured, and where the money gained by the indulgences is spent; _not_ entirely on the building of st. peter's or in holy wars against the turks! thank god that a voice is raised at last against this crying, monstrous lie, the honest voice of dr. luther. it is ringing through all the land. i have just returned from a mission through germany, and i had opportunities of observing the effect of the theses. the first time i heard of them was from a sermon in a church of the dominicans in bavaria. the preacher spoke of dr. luther by name, and reviled the theses as directly inspired by the devil, declaring that their wretched author would have a place in hell lower than all the heretics, from simon magus downward. the congregation were roused and spoke of it as they dispersed. some piously wondered who this new heretic could be who was worse even than huss. others speculated what this new poisonous doctrine could be; and a great many bought a copy of the theses to see. in the augustinian convent that evening they formed the subject of warm debate. not a few of the monks triumphed in them as an effective blow against tetzel and the dominicans. a few rejoiced and said these were the words they had been longing to hear for years. many expressed wonder that people should make so much stir about them, since they said nothing more than all honest men in the land had always thought. a few nights afterwards i lodged at the house of ruprecht haller, a priest in a franconian village. a woman of quiet and modest appearance, young in form but worn and old in expression, with a subdued, broken-spirited bearing, was preparing our supper, and whilst she was serving the table i began to speak to the priest about the theses of dr. luther. he motioned to me to keep silence, and hastily turned the conversation. when we were left alone he explained his reasons. "i gave her the money for an indulgence letter last week, and she purchased one from one of dr. tetzel's company," he said; "and when she returned her heart seemed lighter than i have seen it for years, since god smote us for our sins, and little dietrich died. i would not have had her robbed of that little bit of comfort for the world, be it true or false." theirs was a sad story, common enough in every town and village as regarded the sin, and only uncommon as to the longing for better things which yet lingered in the hearts of the guilty. i suggested her returning to her kindred or entering a convent. "she has no kindred left that would receive her," he said; "and to send her to be scorned and disciplined by a community of nuns--never!" "but her soul!" i said, "and yours?" "the blessed lord received such," he answered almost fiercely, "before the pharisees." "such received him!" i said quietly, "but receiving him they went and sinned no more." "and when did god ever say it was sin for a priest to marry?" he asked; "not in the old testament, for the son of elkanah the priest and hannah ministered before the lord in the temple, as perhaps our little dietrich," he added in a low tone, "ministers before him in his temple now. and where in the new testament do you find it forbidden?" "the church forbids it," i said. "since when?" he asked. "the subject is too near my heart for me not to have searched to see. and five hundred years ago, i have read, before the days of hildebrand the pope, many a village pastor had his lawful wife, whom he loved as i love bertha; for god knows neither she nor i ever loved another." "does this satisfy her conscience?" i asked. "sometimes," he replied bitterly, "but only sometimes. oftener she lives as one under a curse, afraid to receive any good thing, and bowing to every sorrow as her bitter desert, and the foretaste of the terrible retribution to come." "whatever is not of faith is sin," i murmured. "but what will be the portion of those who call what god sanctions sin," he said, "and bring trouble and pollution into hearts as pure as hers?" the woman entered the room as he was speaking, and must have caught his words, for a deep crimson flushed her pale face. as she turned away, her whole frame quivered with a suppressed sob. but afterwards, when the priest left the room, she came up to me and said, looking with her sad, dark, lustreless eyes at me, "you were saying that some doubt the efficacy of these indulgences? but do _you_? i cannot trust _him_," she added softly, "he would be afraid to tell me if he thought so." i hesitated what to say. i could not tell an untruth; and before those searching, earnest eyes, any attempt at evasion would have been vain. "you do _not_ believe this letter can do anything for me," she said; "_nor do i_." and moving quietly to the hearth, she tore the indulgence into shreds, and threw it on the flames. "do not tell him this," she said; "he thinks it comforts me." i tried to say some words about repentance and forgiveness being free to all. "repentance for me," she said, "would be to leave him, would it not?" i could not deny it. "i will _never_ leave him," she replied, with a calmness which was more like principle than passion. "he has sacrificed life for me; but for me he might have been a great and honoured man. and do you think i would leave him to bear his blighted life alone?" ah! it was no dread of scorn or discipline which kept her from the convent. for some time i was silenced. i dared neither to reproach nor to comfort. at length i said, "life, whether joyful or sorrowful, is very short. holiness is infinitely better than happiness here, and holiness makes happiness in the life beyond. if you felt it would be for _his_ good, you would do anything, at any cost to yourself, would you not?" her eyes filled with tears. "you believe, then, that there is some good left, even in me!" she said. "for this may god bless you!" and silently she left the room. five hundred years ago these two lives might have been holy, honourable, and happy; and now!-- i left that house with a heavy heart, and a mind more bewildered than before. but that pale, worn face; those deep, sad, truthful eyes; and that brow, that might have been as pure as the brow of a st. agnes, have haunted me often since. and whenever i think of it, i say,-- "god be merciful to them and to me, sinners!" for had not my own good, pure, pious mother doubts and scruples almost as bitter? did not she also live too often as if under a curse? who or what has thrown this shadow on so many homes? who that knows the interior of many convents dares to say they are holier than homes? who that has lived with, or confessed many monks or nuns, can dare to say their hearts are more heavenly than those of husband or wife, father or mother? alas! the questions of that priest are nothing new to me. but i dare not entertain them. for if monastic life is a delusion, to what have i sacrificed hopes which were so absorbing, and might have been so pure? regrets are burdens a brave man must cast off. for my little life what does it matter? but to see vice shamefully reigning in the most sacred places, and scruples, perhaps false, staining the purest hearts, who can behold these things and not mourn? crimes a pagan would have abhorred atoned for by a few florins; sins which the holy scriptures scarcely seem to condemn, weighing on tender consciences like crimes! what will be the end of this chaos? * * * * * the next night i spent in the castle of an old knight in the thuringian forest, otto von gersdorf. he welcomed me very hospitably to his table, at which a stately old lady presided, his widowed sister. "what is all this talk about dr. luther and his theses?" he asked; "only, i suppose, some petty quarrel between the monks! and yet my nephew ulrich thinks there is no one on earth like this little brother martin. you good augustinians do not like the black friars to have all the profit; is that it?" he asked laughing. "that is not dr. luther's motive, at all events," i said; "i do not believe money is more to him than it is to the birds of the air." "no, brother," said the lady; "think of the beautiful words our chriemhild read us from his book on the lord's prayer." "yes; you, and ulrich, and chriemhild, and atlantis," rejoined the old knight, "you are all alike; the little friar has bewitched you all." the names of my sisters made my heart beat. "does the lady know chriemhild and atlantis cotta?" i asked. "come, nephew ulrich," said the knight to a young man who just then entered the hall from the chase; "tell this good brother all you know of fraülein chriemhild cotta." we were soon the best friends and long after the old knight and his sister had retired, ulrich von gersdorf and i sat up discoursing about dr. luther and his noble words and deeds, and of names dearer to us both even than his. "then you are fritz!" he said musingly after a a pause; "the fritz they all delight to talk of, and think no one can ever be equal to. you are the fritz that chriemhild says her mother always hoped would have wedded that angel maiden eva von schönberg, who is now a nun at nimptschen; whose hymn-book "theologia teutsch" she carried with her to the convent. i wonder you could have left her to become a monk," he continued; "your vocation must have been very strong." at that moment it certainly felt very weak. but i would not for the world have let him see this, and i said, with as steady a voice as i could command, "i believe it was god's will." "well," he continued, "it is good for any one to have seen her, and to carry that image of purity and piety with him into cloister or home. it is better than any painting of the saints, to have that angelic, child-like countenance, and that voice sweet as church music, in one's heart." "it is," i said, and i could not have said a word more. happily for me, he turned to another subject and expatiated for a long time on the beauty and goodness of his little chriemhild, who was to be his wife, he said, next year; whilst through my heart only two thoughts remained distinct, namely, what my mother had wished about eva and me, and that eva had taken my "theologia teutsch" into the convent with her. it took some days before i could remove that sweet, guileless, familiar face, to the saintly, unearthly height in my heart, where only it is safe for me to gaze on it. but i believe ulrich thought me a very sympathizing listener, for in about an hour he said,-- "you are a patient and good-natured monk, to listen thus to my romances. however, she is your sister, and i wish you would be at our wedding. but, at all events, it will be delightful to have news for chriemhild and all of them about fritz." i had intended to go on to wittemberg for a few days, but after that conversation i did not dare to do so at once. i returned to the university of tübingen, to quiet my mind a little with greek and hebrew, under the direction of the excellent reuchlin, it being the will of our vicar-general that i should study the languages. at tübingen i found dr. luther's theses the great topic of debate. men of learning rejoiced in the theses as an assault on barbarism and ignorance; men of straightforward integrity hailed them as a protest against a system of lies and imposture; men of piety gave thanks for them as a defence of holiness and truth. the students enthusiastically greeted dr. luther as the prince of the new age; the aged reuchlin and many of the professors recognized him as an assailant of old foes from a new point of attack. here i attended for some weeks the lectures of the young doctor, philip melancthon (then only twenty one, yet already a doctor for four years), until he was summoned to wittemberg, which he reached on the th of august, . on business of the order, i was deputed about the same time on a mission to the augustinian convent at wittemberg, so that i saw him arrive. the disappointment at his first appearance was great. could this little unpretending-looking youth be the great scholar reuchlin had recommended so warmly, and from whose abilities the elector frederick expected such great results for his new university? dr. luther was among the first to discover the treasure hidden in this insignificant frame. but his first latin harangue, four days after his arrival, won the admiration of all; and very soon his lecture-room was crowded. this was the event which absorbed wittemberg when first i saw it. the return to my old home was very strange to me. such a broad barrier of time and circumstance had grown up between me and those most familiar to me! elsè, matronly as she was, with her keys, her stores, her large household, and her two children, the baby fritz and gretchen, was in heart the very same to me as when we parted for my first term at erfurt, her honest, kind blue eyes, had the very same look. but around her was a whole new world of strangers, strange to me as her own new life, with whom i had no links whatever. with chriemhild and the younger children, the recollection of me as the elder brother seemed struggling with their reverence for the priest. christopher appeared to look on me with a mixture of pity, and respect, and perplexity, which prevented my having any intimate intercourse with him at all. only my mother seemed unchanged with regard to me, although much more aged and feeble. but in her affection there was a clinging tenderness which pierced my heart more than the bitterest reproaches. i felt by the silent watching of her eyes how she had missed me. my father was little altered, except that his schemes appeared to give him a new and placid satisfaction, in the very impossibility of their fulfilment, and that the relations between him and my grandmother were much more friendly. there was at first a little severity in our grandmother's manner to me, which wore off when we understood how much dr. luther's teaching had done for us both; and she never wearied of hearing what he had said and done at rome. the one who, i felt, would have been entirely the same, was gone for ever; and i could scarcely regret the absence which left that one image undimmed by the touch of time, and surrounded by no barriers of change. but of eva no one spoke to me, except little thekla, who sang to me over and over the latin hymns eva had taught her, and asked if she sang them at all in the same way. i told her yes. they were the same words, the same melodies, much of the same soft, reverent, innocent manner. but little thekla's voice was deep and powerful, and clear like a thrush's; and eva's used to be like the soft murmuring of a dove in the depth of some quiet wood--hardly a voice at all--an embodied prayer, as if you stood at the threshold of her heart, and heard the music of her happy, holy, child-like thoughts within. no, nothing could ever break the echo of that voice to me. but thekla and i became great friends. she had scarcely known me of old. we became friends as we were. there was nothing to recall, nothing to efface. and cousin eva had been to her as a star or angel in heaven, or as if she had been another child sent by god out of some beautiful old legend to be her friend. altogether, there was some pain in this visit to my old home. i had prayed so earnestly that the blank my departure had made might be filled up; yet now that i saw it filled, and the life of my beloved running its busy course, with no place in it for me, it left a dreary feeling of exile on my heart. if the dead could thus return, would they feel anything of this? not the holy dead, surely. they would rejoice that the sorrow, having wrought its work, should cease to be so bitter--that the blank should, not, indeed, be filled (no true love can replace another), but veiled and made fruitful, as time and nature veil all ruins. but the holy dead would revisit earth from a home, a father's house; and that the cloister is not, nor can ever be. yet i would gladly have remained at wittemberg. compared with wittemberg, all the world seemed asleep. there it was morning, and an atmosphere of hope and activity was around my heart. dr. luther was there; and, whether consciously or not, all who look for better days seem to fix their eyes on him. but i was sent to mainz. on my journey thither i went out of my way to take a new book of dr. luther's to my poor priest ruprecht in franconia. his village lay in the depths of a pine forest. the book was the exposition of the lord's prayer in german, for lay and unlearned people. the priest's house was empty; but i laid the book on a wooden seat in the porch, with my name written in it, and a few words of gratitude for his hospitality. and as i wound my way through the forest, i saw from a height on the opposite side of the valley a woman enter the porch, and stoop to pick up the book, and then stand reading it in the door-way. as i turned away, her figure still stood motionless in the arch of the porch, with the white leaves of the open book relieved against the shadow of the interior. i prayed that the words might be written on her heart. wonderful words of holy love and grace i knew were there, which would restore hope and purity to any heart on which they were written. and now i am placed in this augustinian monastery at mainz in the rhineland. this convent has its own peculiar traditions. here is a dungeon in which, not forty years ago (in ), died john of wesel--the old man who had dared to protest against indulgences, and to utter such truths as dr. luther is upholding now. an aged monk of this monastery, who was young when john of wesel died, remembers him, and has often spoken to me about him. the inquisitors instituted a process against him, which was earned on, like so many others, in the secret of the cloister. it was said that he made a general recantation, but that two accusations which were brought against him he did not attempt in his defence to deny. they were these: "that it is not his monastic life which saves any monk, but the grace of god;" and "that the same holy spirit who inspired the holy scriptures alone can interpret them with power to the heart." the inquisitors burned his books; at which, my informant said, the old man wept. "why," he said, "should men be so inflamed against him? there was so much in his books that was good, and must they be all burned for the little evil that was mixed with the good? surely this was man's judgment, not god's--not his who would have spared sodom at abraham's prayer, for but ten righteous, had they been found there. o god," he sighed, "must the good perish with the evil?" but the inquisitors were not to be moved. the books were condemned and ignominiously burned in public; the old man's name was branded with heresy; and he himself was silenced, and left in the convent prison to die. i asked the monk who told me of this, what were the especial heresies for which john of wesel was condemned. "heresies against the church, i believe," he replied. "i have heard him in his sermons declare that the church was becoming like what the jewish nation was in the days of our lord. he protested against the secular splendours of the priests and prelates--against the cold ceremonial into which he said the services had sunk, and the empty superstitions which were substituted for true piety of heart and life. he said that the salt had lost its savour; that many of the priests were thieves and robbers, and not shepherds; that the religion in fashion was little better than that of the pharisees who put our lord to death--a cloak for spiritual pride, and narrow, selfish bitterness. he declared that divine and ecclesiastical authority were of very different weight; that the outward professing church was to be distinguished from the true living church of christ; that the power of absolution given to the priest was sacramental, and not judicial. in a sermon at worms, i once heard him say he thought little of the pope, the church, or the councils, as a foundation to build our faith upon. 'christ alone,' he declared, 'i praise. may the word of christ dwell in us richly!'" "they were bold words," i remarked. "more than that," replied the aged monk; "john of wesel protested that what the bible did not hold as sin, neither could he; and he is even reported to have said, 'eat on fast days, if thou art hungry.'" "that is a concession many of the monks scarcely need," i observed. "his life, then, was not condemned, but only his doctrine." "i was sorry," the old monk resumed, "that it was necessary to condemn him; for from that time to this, i never have heard preaching that stirred the heart like his. when he ascended the pulpit, the church was thronged. the laity understood and listened to him as eagerly as the religious. it was a pity he was a heretic, for i do not ever expect to hear his like again." "you have never heard dr. luther preach?" i said. "doctor luther who wrote those theses they are talking so much of?" he asked. "do the people throng to hear his sermons, and hang on his words as if they were words of life?" "they do," i replied. "then," rejoined the old monk softly, "let dr. luther take care. that was the way with so many of the heretical preachers. with john of goch at mechlin, and john wesel whom they expelled from paris, i have heard it was just the same. but," he continued, "if dr. luther comes to mainz, i will certainly try to hear him. i should like to have my cold, dry, old heart moved like that again. often when i read the holy gospels john of wesel's words come back. brother, it was like the breath of life." the last man that ventured to say in the face of germany that man's word is not to be placed on an equality with god's, and that the bible is the only standard of truth, and the one rule of right and wrong--this is how he died! how will it be with the next--with the man that is proclaiming this in the face of the world now? the old monk turned back to me, after we had separated, and said, in a low voice-- "tell dr. luther to take warning by john of wesel. holy men and great preachers may so easily become heretics without knowing it. and yet," he added, "to preach such sermons as john of wesel, i am not sure it is not worth while to die in prison. i think i could be content to die, if i could _hear_ one such again! tell dr. luther to take care; but nevertheless, if he comes to mainz i will hear him." the good, then, in john of wesel's words, has not perished, in spite of the flames. xvi. elsè's story. wittemberg, _july_ , . many events have happened since last i wrote, both in this little world and in the large world outside. our gretchen has two little brothers, who are as ingenious in destruction, and seem to have as many designs against their own welfare, as their uncles had at their age, and seem likely to perplex gretchen, dearly as she loves them, much as christopher and pollux did me. chriemhild is married, and has gone to her home in the thuringian forest. atlantis is betrothed to conrad winkelried, a swiss student. pollux is gone to spain, on some mercantile affairs of the eisenach house of cotta, in which he is a partner; and fritz has been among us once more. that is now about two years since. he was certainly much graver than of old. indeed he often looked more than grave, as if some weight of sorrow rested on him. but with our mother and the children he was always cheerful. gretchen and uncle fritz formed the strongest mutual attachment, and to this day she often asks me when he will come back; and nothing delights her more than to sit on my knee before his picture, and hear me tell over and over again the stories of our old talks in the lumber-room at eisenach, or of the long days we used to spend in the pine forests, gathering wood for the winter fires. she thinks no festival could be so delightful as that; and her favourite amusement is to gather little bundles of willow or oak twigs, by the river elbe, or on the düben heath, and bring them home for household use. all the splendid puppets and toys her father brings her from nüremberg, or has sent from venice, do not give her half the pleasure that she finds in the heath, when he takes her there, and she returns with her little apron full of dry sticks, and her hands as brown and dirty as a little wood-cutter's, fancying she is doing what uncle fritz and i did when we were children, and being useful. last summer she was endowed with a special apple and pear tree of her own, and the fruit of these she stores with her little fagots to give at christmas to a poor old woman we know. gottfried and i want the children to learn early that pure joy of giving, and of doing kindnesses, which transmutes wealth from dust into true gold, and prevents these possessions which are such good servants from becoming our masters, and reducing us, as they seem to do so many wealthy people, into the mere slaves and hired guardians of _things_. i pray god often that the experience of poverty which i had for so many years may never be lost. it seems to me a gift god has given me, just as a course at the university is a gift. i have graduated in the school of poverty, and god grant i may never forget the secrets poverty taught me about the struggles and wants of the poor. the room in which i write now, with its carpets, pictures, and carved furniture, is very different from the dear bare old lumber-room where i began my chronicle; and the inlaid ebony and ivory cabinet on which my paper lies is a different desk from the piles of old books where i used to trace the first pages slowly in a childish hand. but the poor man's luxuries will always be the most precious to me. the warm sunbeams, shining through the translucent vine-leaves at the open window, are fairer than all the jewel-like venetian glass of the closed casements which are now dying crimson the pages of dr. luther's commentary, left open on the window-seat an hour since by gottfried. but how can i be writing so much about my own tiny world, when all the world around me is agitated by such great fears and hopes? at this moment, through the open window, i see dr. luther and dr. philip melancthon walking slowly up the street in close conversation. the hum of their voices reaches me here, although they are talking low. how different they look, and are; and yet what friends they have become! probably, in a great degree, because of the difference. the one looks like a veteran soldier, with his rock-like brow, his dark eyes, his vigorous form, and his firm step; the other, with his high, expanded forehead, his thin worn face, and his slight youthful frame, like a combination of a young student and an old philosopher. gottfried says god has given them to each other and to germany, blessing the church as he does the world by the union of opposites, rain and sunshine, heat and cold, sea and land, husband and wife. how those two great men (for gottfried says dr. melancthon is great, and i know that dr. luther is) love and reverence each other! dr. luther says he is but the forerunner, and melancthon the true prophet; that he is but the wood-cutter clearing the forest with rough blows, that dr. philip may sow the precious seed; and when he went to encounter the legate at augsburg, he wrote, that if philip lived it mattered little what became of him. but _we_ do not think so, nor does dr. melancthon. "no one," he says, "comes near dr. luther, and indeed the heart of the whole nation hangs on him. who stirs the heart of germany--of nobles, peasants, princes, women, children--as he does with his noble, faithful words?" twice during these last years we have been in the greatest anxiety about his safety,--once when he was summoned before the legate at augsburg, and once when he went to the great disputation with dr. eck at leipsic. but how great the difference between his purpose when he went to augsburg, and when he returned from leipsic! at augsburg he would have conceded anything, but the truth about the free justification of every sinner who believes in christ. he reverenced the pope; he would not for the world become a heretic! no name of opprobrium was so terrible to him as that. at leipsic he had learned to disbelieve that the pope had any authority to determine doctrine, and he boldly confessed that the hussites (men till now abhorred in saxony as natural enemies as well as deadly heretics) ought to be honoured for confessing sound truth. and from that time both dr. luther and melancthon have stood forth openly as the champions of the word of god against the papacy. now, however, a worse danger threatens him, even the bull of excommunication which they say is now being forged at rome, and which has never yet failed to crush where it has fallen. dr. luther has, indeed, taught us not to dread it as a spiritual weapon, but we fear its temporal effects, especially if followed by the ban of the empire. often, indeed, he talks of taking refuge in some other land; the good elector, even himself, has at times advised it, fearing no longer to be able to protect him. but god preserve him to germany! _june_ , . this evening, as we were sitting in my father's house, christopher brought us, damp from the press, a copy of dr. luther's appeal to his imperial majesty, and to the christian nobility of the german nation, on the reformation of christendom. presenting it to our grandmother, he said,-- "here, madam, is a weapon worthy of the bravest days of the schönbergs, mighty to the pulling down of strongholds." "ah," sighed our mother, "always wars and fightings! it is a pity the good work cannot be done more quietly." "ah, grandmother," said my father, "only see how her burgher life has destroyed the heroic spirit of her crusading ancestors. she thinks that the holy places are to be won back from the infidels without a blow, only by begging their pardon and kissing the hem of their garments." "you should hear catherine krapp, dr. melancthon's wife!" rejoined our mother; "she agrees with me that these are terrible times. she says she never sees the doctor go away without thinking he may be immured in some dreadful dungeon before they meet again." "but remember, dear mother," i said, "your fears when first dr. luther assailed tetzel and his indulgences three years ago! and who has gained the victory there? dr. martin is the admiration of all good men throughout germany; and poor tetzel, despised by his own party, rebuked by the legate, died, they say, of a broken heart just after the great leipsic disputation." "poor tetzel!" said my father, "his indulgences could not bind up a broken heart. i shall always love dr. luther for writing him a letter of comfort when he was dying, despised and forsaken even by his own party. i trust that he who can pardon has had mercy on his soul." "read to us, christopher," said our grandmother; "your mother would not shrink from any battle-field if there were wounds there which her hands could bind." "no," said gottfried, "the end of war is peace,--god's peace, based on his truth. blessed are those who in the struggle never lose sight of the end." christopher read, not without interruption. many things in the book were new and startling to most of us:-- "it is not rashly," dr. luther began, "that i, a man of the people, undertake to address your lord-ships. the wretchedness and oppression that now overwhelm all the states of christendom, and germany in particular, force from me a cry of distress. i am constrained to call for help; i must see whether god will not bestow his spirit on some man belonging to our country, and stretch forth his hand to our unhappy nation." dr. luther never seems to think _he_ is to do the great work. he speaks as if he were only fulfilling some plain humble duty, and calling other men to undertake the great achievement; and all the while that humble duty _is_ the great achievement, and he is doing it. dr. luther spoke of the wretchedness of italy, the unhappy land where the pope's throne is set, her ruined monasteries, her decayed cities, her corrupted people; and then he showed how roman avarice and pride were seeking to reduce germany to a state as enslaved. he appealed to the young emperor, charles, soon about to be crowned. he reminded all the rulers of their responsibilities. he declared that the papal territory, called the patrimony of st. peter, was the fruit of robbery. generously holding out his hand to the very outcasts his enemies had sought to insult him most grievously by comparing him with, he said,-- "it is time that we were considering the cause of the bohemians, and re-uniting ourselves to them." at these words my grandmother dropped her work, and fervently clasping her hands, leant forward, and fixing her eyes on christopher, drank in every word with intense eagerness. when he came to the denunciation of the begging friars, and the recommendation that the parish priests should marry, christopher interrupted himself by an enthusiastic "vivat." when, however, after a vivid picture of the oppressions and avarice of the legates, came the solemn abjuration:-- "hearest thou this, o pope, not most holy, but most sinful? may god from the heights of his heaven soon hurl thy throne into the abyss!" my mother turned pale, and crossed herself. what impressed me most was the plain declaration:-- "it has been alleged that the pope, the bishops, the priests, and the monks and nuns form the estate spiritual or ecclesiastical; while the princes, nobles, burgesses, and peasantry form the secular estate or laity. let no man, however, be alarmed at this. _all christians constitute the spiritual estate: and the only difference among them is that of the functions which they discharge._ we have all one baptism, one faith, and it is this which constitutes the spiritual man." if this is indeed true, how many of my old difficulties it removes with a stroke! all callings, then, may be religious callings; all men and women of a religious order. then my mother is truly and undoubtedly as much treading the way appointed her as aunt agnes; and the monastic life is only one among callings equally sacred. when i said this to my mother, she said, "i as religious a woman as aunt agnes! no, elsè! whatever dr. luther ventures to declare, he would not say that. i do sometimes have a hope that for his dear son's sake god hears even my poor feeble prayers; but to pray night and day, and abandon all for god, like my sister agnes, that is another thing altogether." but when, as we crossed the street to our home, i told gottfried how much those words of dr. luther had touched me, and asked if he really thought we in our secular calling were not only doing our work by a kind of indirect permission, but by a direct vocation from god, he replied,-- "my doubt, elsè, is whether the vocation which leads men to abandon home is from god at all; whether it has either his command or even his permission." but if gottfried is right, fritz has sacrificed his life to a delusion. how can i believe that? and yet if he could perceive it, how life might change for him! might he not even yet be restored to us? but i am dreaming. _october_ , . more and more burning words from dr. luther. to-day we have been reading his new book on the babylonish captivity. "god has said," he writes in this, "'whosoever shall believe and be baptized shall be saved.' on this promise, if we receive it with faith, hangs our whole salvation. if we believe, our heart is fortified by the divine promise; and although all should forsake the believer, this promise which he believes will never forsake him. with it he will resist the adversary who rushes upon his soul, and will have wherewithal to answer pitiless death, and even the judgment of god." and he says in another place, "the vow made at our baptism is sufficient of itself, and comprehends more than we can ever accomplish. hence all other vows may be abolished. whoever enters the priesthood or any religious order, let him well understand that the works of a monk or of a priest, however difficult they may be, differ in no respect in the sight of god from those of a countryman who tills the ground, or of a woman who conducts a household. god values all things by the standard of faith. and it often happens that the simple labour of a male or female servant is more agreeable to god than the fasts and the works of a monk, because in these faith is wanting." what a consecration this thought gives to my commonest duties! yes, when i am directing the maids in their work, or sharing gottfried's cares, or simply trying to brighten his home at the end of the busy day, or lulling my children to sleep, can i indeed be serving god as much as dr. luther at the altar or in his lecture-room? i also, then, have indeed my vocation direct from god. how could i ever have thought the mere publication of a book would have been an event to stir our hearts like the arrival of a friend! yet it is even thus with every one of those pamphlets of dr. luther's. they move the whole of our two households, from our grandmother to thekla, and even the little maid, to whom i read portions. she says, with tears, "if the mother and father could hear this in the forest!" students and burghers have not patience to wait till they reach home, but read the heart-stirring pages as they walk through the streets. and often an audience collects around some communicative reader, who cannot be content with keeping the free, liberating truths to himself. already, christopher says, four thousand copies of the "appeal to the nobility" are circulating through germany. i always thought before of books as the peculiar property of the learned. but dr. luther's books are a living voice,--a heart god has awakened and taught, speaking to countless hearts as a man talketh with his friend. i can indeed see now, with my father and christopher, that the printing press is a nobler weapon than even the spears and broadswords of our knightly bohemian ancestors. wittemberg, _december_ , . dr. luther has taken a great step to-day. he has publicly burned the decretals, with other ancient writings, on which the claims of the court of rome are founded, but which are now declared to be forgeries; and more than this, he has burnt the pope's bull of excommunication against himself. gottfried says that for centuries such a bonfire as this has not been seen. he thinks it means nothing less than an open and deliberate renunciation of the papal tyranny which for so many hundred years has held the whole of western christendom in bondage. he took our two boys to see it, that we may remind them of it in after years as the first great public act of freedom. early in the morning the town was astir. many of the burghers, professors, and students knew what was about to be done; for this was no deed of impetuous haste or angry vehemence. i dressed the children early, and we went to my father's house. wittemberg is as full now of people of various languages as the tower of babel must have been after the confusion of tongues. but never was this more manifest than to-day. flemish monks from the augustine cloisters at antwerp; dutch students from finland; swiss youths, with their erect forms and free mountain gait; knights from prussia and lithuania; strangers even from quite foreign lands,--all attracted hither by dr. luther's living words of truth, passed under our windows about nine o'clock this morning, in the direction of the elster gate, eagerly gesticulating and talking as they went. then thekla, atlantis, and i mounted to an upper room, and watched the smoke rising from the pile, until the glare of the conflagration burst through it, and stained with a faint red the pure daylight. soon afterwards the crowds began to return: but there seemed to me to be a gravity and solemnity in the manner of most, different from the eager haste with which they had gone forth. "they seem like men returning from some great church festival," i said. "or from lighting a signal-fire on the mountains, which shall awaken the whole land to freedom," said christopher, as they rejoined us. "or from binding themselves with a solemn oath to liberate their homes, like the three men at grütly," said conrad winkelried, the young swiss to whom atlantis is betrothed. "yes," said gottfried, "fires which may be the beacons of a world's deliverance, and may kindle the death-piles of those who dared to light them, are no mere students' bravado." "who did the deed, and what was burned?" i asked. "one of the masters of arts lighted the pile," my husband replied, "and then threw on it the decretals, the false epistles of st. clement, and other forgeries, which have propped up the edifice of lies for centuries. and when the flames which consumed them had done their work and died away, dr. luther himself, stepping forward, solemnly laid the pope's bull of excommunication on the fire, saying amidst the breathless silence, 'as thou hast troubled the lord's saints, may the eternal fire destroy thee.' not a word broke the silence until the last crackle and gleam of those symbolical flames had ceased, and then gravely but joyfully we all returned to our homes." "children," said our grandmother, "you have done well; yet you are not the first that have defied rome." "nor perhaps the last she will silence," said my husband. "but the last enemy will be destroyed at last; and meantime every martyr is a victor." xvii. eva's story. i have read the whole of the new testament through to sister beatrice and aunt agnes. strangely different auditors they were in powers of mind and in experience of life; yet both met, like so many in his days on earth, at the feet of jesus. "he would not have despised me, even me," sister beatrice would say. "poor, fond creature, half-witted or half-crazed they call me; but he would have welcomed me." "_does_ he not welcome you?" i said. "you think so? yes, i think--i am sure he does. my poor broken bits and remnants of sense and love, he will not despise them. he will take me as i am." one day when i had been reading to them the chapter in st. luke with the parables of the lost money, the lost sheep, and the prodigal, aunt agnes, resting her cheek on her thin hand, and fixing her large dark eyes on me, listened with intense expectation to the end; and then she said,-- "is that all, my child? begin the next chapter." i began about the rich man and the unjust steward; but before i had read many words,-- "that will do," she said in a disappointed tone. "it is another subject. then not one of the pharisees came after all! if i had been there among the hard, proud pharisees--as i might have been when he began, wondering, no doubt, that he could so forget himself as to eat with publicans and sinners--if i had been there, and had heard him speak thus, eva, i must have fallen at his feet and said, 'lord, i am a pharisee no more--i am the lost sheep, not one of the ninety and nine--the wandering child, not the elder brother. place me low, low among the publicans and sinners--lower than any; but only say thou camest also to seek me, even _me_.' and, child, he would not have sent me away! but, eva," she added, after a pause, wiping away the tears which ran slowly over her withered cheeks, "is it not said anywhere that one pharisee came to him." i looked, and could find it nowhere stated positively that one pharisee had abandoned his pride, and self-righteousness, and treasures of good works, for jesus. it seemed all on the side of the publicans. aunt agnes was at times distressed. "and yet," she said, "i _have_ come. i am no longer among those who think themselves righteous, and despise others. but i must come in behind all. it is i, not the woman who was a sinner, who am the miracle of his grace; for since no sin so keeps men from him as spiritual pride, there can be no sin so degrading in the sight of the pure and humble angels, or of the lord. but look again, eva! is there not one instance of such as i being saved?" i found the history of nicodemus, and we traced it through the gospel from the secret visit to the popular teacher at night, to the open confession of the rejected saviour before his enemies. aunt agnes thought this might be the example she sought, but she wished to be quite sure. "nicodemus came in humility, to learn," she said. "we never read that he despised others, or thought he could make himself a saint." at length we came to the acts of the apostles, and there, indeed, we found the history of one, "of the straitest sect a pharisee," who verily thought himself doing god service by persecuting the despised nazarenes to death. and from that time aunt agnes sought out and cherished every fragment of st. paul's history, and every sentence of his sermons and writings. she had found the example she sought of the "pharisee who was saved"--in him who obtained mercy, "that in him first god might show forth the riches of his long-suffering to those who thereafter, through his word, should believe." she determined to learn latin, that she might read these divine words for herself. it was affecting to see her sitting among the novices whom i taught, carefully spelling out the words, and repeating the declensions and conjugations. i had no such patient pupil; for although many were eager at first, not a few relaxed after a few weeks' toil, not finding the results very apparent, and said it would never sound so natural and true as when sister ave translated it for them in german. i wish some learned man would translate the bible into german. why does not some one think of it? there is one german translation from the latin, the prioress says, made about thirty or forty years ago; but it is very large and costly, and not in language that attracts simple people. i wish the pope would spend some of the money from the indulgences on a new translation of the new testament. i think it would please god much more than building st. peter's. perhaps, however, if people had the german new testament they would not buy the indulgences; for in all the gospels and epistles i cannot find one word about buying pardons; and, what is more strange, not a word about adoring the blessed virgin, or about nunneries or monasteries. i cannot see that the holy apostles founded one such community, or recommended any one to do so. indeed there is so much in the new testament, and in what i have read of the old, about not worshipping any one but god, that i have quite given up saying any prayers to the blessed mother, for many reasons. in the first place, i am much more sure that our lord can hear us always than his mother, because he so often says so. and i am much more sure he can help, because i know all power is given to him in heaven and in earth. and in the next place, if i were quite sure that the blessed virgin and the saints could hear me always, and could help or would intercede, i am sure also that no one among them--not the holy mother herself--is half so compassionate and full of love, or could understand us so well, as he who died for us. in the gospels, he was always more accessible than the disciples. st. peter might be impatient in the impetuosity of his zeal. loving indignation might overbalance the forbearance of st. john the beloved, and he might wish for fire from heaven on those who refused to receive his master. all the holy apostles rebuked the poor mothers who brought their children, and would have sent away the woman of canaan; but he tenderly took the little ones into his arms from the arms of the mothers the disciples had rebuked. his patience was never wearied; he never misunderstood or discouraged any one. therefore i pray to him and our father in heaven alone, and _through_ him alone. because if he is more pitiful to sinners than all the saints, which of all the saints can be beloved of god as he is, the well-beloved son? he seems everything, in every circumstance, we can ever want. higher mediation we cannot find, tenderer love we cannot crave. and very sure i am that the meek mother of the lord, the disciple whom jesus loved, the apostle who determined to know nothing among his converts save jesus christ, and him crucified, will not regret any homage transferred from them to him. nay, rather, if the blessed virgin, and the holy apostles have heard how, through all these years, such grievous and unjust things have been said of their lord; how his love has been misunderstood, and he has been represented as hard to be entreated,--he who entreats sinners to come and be forgiven;--has not this been enough to shadow their happiness, even in heaven? a nun has lately been transferred to our convent, who came originally from bohemia, where all her relatives had been slain for adhering to the party of john huss, the heretic. she is much older than i am, and she says she remembers well the name of my family, and that my great-uncle, aunt agnes' father, died a _heretic_! she cannot tell what the heresy was, but she believes it was something about the blessed sacrament and the authority of the pope. she had heard that otherwise he was a charitable and holy man. was my father, then, a hussite? i have found the end of the sentence he gave me as his dying legacy:--"god so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, _that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life_." and instead of being in a book not fit for christian children to read, as the priest who took it from me said, it is in the holy scriptures! can it be possible that the world has come round again to the state it was in when the rulers and priests put the saviour to death, and st. paul persecuted the disciples as heretics? nimptschen, . a wonderful book of dr. luther's appeared among us a few weeks since, on the babylonish captivity; and although it was taken from us by the authorities, as dangerous reading for nuns, this was not before many among us had become acquainted with its contents. and it has created a great ferment in the convent. some say they are words of impious blasphemy; some say they are words of living truth. he speaks of the forgiveness of sins being free; of the pope and many of the priests being the enemies of the truth of god; and of the life and calling of a monk or nun as in no way holier than that of any humble believing secular man or woman,--a nun no holier than a wife or a household servant! this many of the older nuns think plain blasphemy. aunt agnes says it is true, and more than true; for, from what i tell her, there can be no doubt that aunt cotta has been a lowlier and holier woman all her life than she can ever hope to be. and as to the bible precepts, they certainly seem far more adapted to people living in homes than to those secluded in convents. often when i am teaching the young novices the precepts in the epistles, they say,-- "but sister ave, find some precepts for us. these sayings are for children, and wives, and mothers, and brothers, and sisters; not for those who have neither home nor kindred on earth." then if i try to speak of loving god and the blessed saviour, some of them say,-- "but we cannot bathe his feet with tears, or anoint them with ointment, or bring him food, or stand by his cross, as the good women did of old. shut up here, away from every one, how can we show him that we love him?" and i can only say, "dear sisters, you are here now; therefore surely god will find some way for you to serve him here." but my heart aches for them, and i doubt no longer, i feel sure god can never have meant these young, joyous hearts to be cramped and imprisoned thus. sometimes i talk about it with aunt agnes; and we consider whether, if these vows are indeed irrevocable, and these children must never see their homes again, the convent could not one day be removed to some city where sick and suffering men and women toil and die; so that we might, at least, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit and minister to the sick and sorrowful. that would be life once more, instead of this monotonous routine, which is not so much death as mechanism--an inanimate existence which has never been life. _october_, . sister beatrice is very ill. aunt agnes has requested as an especial favour to be allowed to share the attending on her with me. never was gentler nurse or more grateful patient. it goes to my heart to see aunt agnes meekly learning from me how to render the little services required at the sick-bed. she smiles, and says her feeble blundering fingers had grown into mere machines for turning over the leaves of prayer-books, just as her heart was hardening into a machine for repeating prayers. nine of the young nuns, aunt agnes, sister beatrice, and i, have been drawn very closely together of late. among the noblest of these is catherine von bora, a young nun, about twenty years of age. there is such truth in her full dark eyes, which look so kindly and frankly into mine, and such character in the firmly-closed mouth. she declines learning latin, and has not much taste for learned books; but she has much clear practical good sense, and she, with many others, delights greatly in dr. luther's writings. they say they are not books; they are a living voice. every fragment of information i can give them about the doctor is eagerly received, and many rumours reach us of his influence in the world. when he was near nimptschen, two years ago, at the great leipsic disputation, we heard that the students were enthusiastic about him, and that the common people seemed to drink in his words almost as they did our lord's when he spoke upon earth; and what is more, that the lives of some men and women at the court have been entirely changed since they heard him. we were told he had been the means of wonderful conversions; but what was strange in these conversions was, that those so changed did not abandon their position in life, but only their sins, remaining where they were when god called them, and distinguished from others, not by veil or cowl, but by the light of holy works. on the other hand, many, especially among the older nuns, have received quite contrary impressions, and regard dr. luther as a heretic, worse than any who ever rent the church. these look very suspiciously on us, and subject us to many annoyances, hindering our conversing and reading together as much as possible. we do, indeed, many of us wonder that dr. luther should use such fierce and harsh words against the pope's servants. yet st. paul even "could have wished that those were cut off" that troubled his flock; and the very lips of divine love launched woes against hypocrites and false shepherds severer than any that the baptist or elijah ever uttered in their denunciations from the wilderness. it seems to me that the hearts which are tenderest towards the wandering sheep will ever be severest against the seducing shepherds who lead them astray. only we need always to remember that these very false shepherds themselves are, after all, but wretched lost sheep, driven hither and thither by the great robber of the fold! . just now the hearts of the little band among us who owe so much to dr. luther are lifted up night and day in prayer to god for him. he is soon to be on his way to the imperial diet at worms. he has the emperor's safe-conduct, but it is said this did not save john huss from the flames. in our prayers we are much aided by his own commentary on the book of psalms, which i have just received from uncle cotta'a printing-press. this is now sister beatrice's great treasure, as i sit by her bed-side and read it to her. he says that "the mere frigid use of the psalms in the canonical hours, though little understood, brought some sweetness of the breath of life to humble hearts of old, like the faint fragrance in the air not far from a bed of roses." he says, "all other books give us the words and deeds of the saints, but this gives us their inmost souls." he calls the psalter "the little bible." "there," he says, "you may look into the hearts of the saints as into paradise, or into the opened heavens, and see the fair flowers or the shining stars, as it were, of their affections springing or beaming up to god, in response to his benefits and blessings." _march_, . news had reached me to-day from wittemberg which makes me feel indeed that the days when people deem they do god service by persecuting those who love him, are too truly come back. thekla writes me that they have thrown fritz into the convent prison at mainz, for spreading dr. luther's doctrine among the monks. a few lines sent through a friendly monk have told them of this. she sent them on to me. "my beloved ones," he writes, "i am in the prison where, forty years ago, john of wesel died for the truth. i am ready to die if god wills it so. his truth is worth dying for, and his love will strengthen me. but if i can i will escape, for the truth is worth living for. if, however, you do not hear of me again, know that the truth i died for is christ's, and that the love which sustained me is christ himself. and likewise that to the last i pray for you all, and for eva; and tell her that the thought of her has helped me often to believe in goodness and truth, and that i look assuredly to meet her and all of you again.--friedrich schÖnberg cotta." in prison and in peril of life! death itself cannot, i know, more completely separate fritz and me than we are separated already. indeed, of the death even of one of us, i have often thought as bringing us a step nearer, rending one veil between us. yet, now that it seems so possible,--that perhaps it has already come,--i feel there was a kind of indefinable sweetness in being only on the same earth together, in treading the same pilgrim way. at least we could help each other by prayer; and now, if he is indeed treading the streets of the heavenly city, so high above, the world does seem darker. but, alas! he may _not_ be in the heavenly city, but in some cold earthly dungeon, suffering i know not what! i have read the words over and over, until i have almost lost their meaning. he has no morbid desire to die. he will escape if he can, and he is daring enough to accomplish much. and yet, if the danger were not great, he would not alarm aunt cotta with even the possibility of death. he always considered others so tenderly. he says i have helped him, _him_ who taught and helped me, a poor ignorant child, so much! yet i suppose it may be so. it teaches us so much to teach others. and we always understood each other so perfectly with so few words. i feel as if blindness had fallen on me, when i think of him now. my heart gropes about in the dark and cannot find him. but then i look up, my saviour, to thee. "to thee the night and the day are both alike." i dare not think he is suffering; it breaks my heart. i cannot rejoice as i would in thinking he may be in heaven. i know not what to ask, but thou art with him as with me. _keep him close under the shadow of thy wing._ there we are _safe_, and there we are _together_. and oh, comfort aunt cotta! she must need it sorely. fritz, then, like our little company at nimptschen, loves the words of dr. luther. when i think of this i rejoice almost more than i weep for him. these truths believed in our hearts seem to unite us more than prison or death can divide. when i think of this i can sing once more st. bernard's hymn:-- salve caput cruentatum. hail! thou head, so bruised and wounded, with the crown of thorns surrounded, smitten with the mocking reed, wounds which may not cease to bleed trickling faint and slow. hail! from whose most blessed brow none can wipe the blood-drops now; all the bloom of life has fled, mortal paleness there instead thou before whose presence dread angels trembling bow. all thy vigor and thy life fading in this bitter strife; death his stamp on thee has set, hollow and emaciate, faint and drooping there. thou this agony and scorn hast for me a sinner borne! me, unworthy, all for me! with those wounds of love on thee, glorious face, appear! yet in this thine agony, faithful shepherd, think of me from whose lips of love divine sweetest draughts of life are mine; purest honey flows; all unworthy of thy thought, guilty, yet reject me not; unto me thy head incline,-- let that dying head of thine in mine arms repose. let me true communion know with thee in thy sacred woe, counting all beside but dross, dying with thee on thy cross;-- 'neath it will i die! thanks to thee with every breath jesus, for thy bitter death; grant thy guilty one this prayer: when my dying hour is near, gracious god, be nigh! when my dying hour must be, be not absent then from me; in that dreadful hour, i pray, jesus come without delay; see, and set me free. when thou biddest me depart, whom i cleave to with my heart. lover of my soul, be near, with thy saving cross appear,-- show thyself to me! xviii. thekla's story. wittemberg, _april_ , . dr. luther is gone. we all feel like a family bereaved of our father. the professors and chief burghers, with numbers of the students, gathered around the door of the augustinian convent this morning to bid him farewell. gottfried reichenbach was near as he entered the carriage, and heard him say, as he turned to melacthon, in a faltering voice, "should i not return, and should my enemies put me to death, o my brother, cease not to teach and to abide steadfastly in the truth. labour in my place, for i shall not be able to labour myself. if you be spared it matters little that i perish." and so he drove off. and a few minutes after, we, who were waiting at the door, saw him pass. he did not forget to smile at elsè and her little ones, or to give a word of farewell to our dear blind father as he passed us. but there was a grave steadfastness in his countenance that made our hearts full of anxiety. as the usher with the imperial standard who preceded him, and then dr. luther's carriage, disappeared round a corner of the street, our grandmother, whose chair had been placed at the door that she might see him pass, murmured, as if to herself,-- "yes, it was with just such a look they went to the scaffold and the stake when i was young." i could see little, my eyes were so blinded with tears; and when our grandmother said this, i could bear it no longer, but ran up to my room, and here i have been ever since. my mother and elsè and all of them say i have no control over my feelings; and i am afraid i have not. but it seems to me as if every one i lean my heart on were always taken away. first, there was eva. she always understood me, helped me to understand myself; did not laugh at my perplexities as childish, did not think my over-eagerness was always heat of temper, but met my blundering efforts to do right. different as she was from me (different as an angel from poor bewildered blundering giant christopher in elsè's old legend), she always seemed come down to my level and see my difficulties from where i stood, and so helped me over them; whilst every one else sees them from above, and wonders any one can think such trifles troubles at all. not, indeed, that my dear mother and elsè are proud, or mean to look down on any one; but elsè is so unselfish, her whole life is so bound up in others, that she does not know what more wilful natures have to contend with. besides, she is now out of the immediate circle of our every-day life at home. then our mother is so gentle; she is frightened to think what sorrows life may bring me with the changes that must come, if little things give me such joy or grief now. i know she feels for me often more than she dares let me see; but she is always thinking of arming me for the trials she believes must come, by teaching me to be less vehement and passionate about trifles now. but i am afraid it is useless. i think every creature must suffer according to its nature; and if god has made our capacity for joy or sorrow deep, we cannot fill up the channel and say, "hitherto i will feel; so far, and no further." the _waters are there_,--soon they will recover for themselves the old choked-up courses; and meantime they will overflow. eva also used to say, "that our armour must grow with our growth, and our strength with the strength of our conflicts; and that there is only one shield which does this, the shield of faith,--a living, daily trust in a living, ever-present god." but eva went away. and then nix died. i suppose if i saw any child now mourning over a dog as i did over nix, i should wonder much as they all did at me then. but nix was not only a dog to me. he was eisenach and my childhood; and a whole world of love and dreams seemed to die for me with nix. to all the rest of the world i was a little vehement girl of fourteen; to nix i was mistress, protector, everything. it was weeks before i could bear to come in at the front door, where he used to watch for me with his wistful eyes, and bound with cries of joy to meet me. i used to creep in at the garden gate. and then nix's death was the first approach of death to me, and the dreadful power was no less a power because its shadow fell first for me on a faithful dog. i began dimly to feel that life, which before that seemed to be a mountain-path always mounting and mounting through golden mists to i know not what heights of beauty and joy, did not end on the heights, but in a dark unfathomed abyss, and that however dim its course might be, it has, alas, no mists, or uncertainty around the nature of its close, but ends certainly, obviously, and universally in death. i could not tell any one what i felt. i did not know myself. how can we understand a labyrinth until we are through it? i did not even know it was a labyrinth. i only knew that a light had passed away from everything, and a shadow had fallen in its place. then it was that dr. luther spoke to me of the other world, beyond death, which god would certainly make more full and beautiful than this;--the world on which the shadow of death can never come, because it lies in the eternal sunshine, on the other side of death, and all the shadows fall on this side. that was about the time of my first communion, and i saw much of dr. luther, and heard him preach. i did not say much to him, but he let down a light into my heart which, amidst all its wanderings and mistakes, will, i believe, never go out. he made me understand something of what our dear heavenly father is, and that willing but unequalled sufferer--that gracious saviour who gave himself for our sins, even for mine. and he made me feel that god would understand me better than any one, because love always understands, and the greatest love understands best, and god is love. elsè and i spoke a little about it sometimes, but not much. i am still a child to elsè and to all of them, being the youngest, and so much less self-controlled than i ought to be. fritz understood it best; at least, i could speak to him more freely,--i do not know why. perhaps some hearts are made to answer naturally to each other, just as some of the furniture always vibrates when i touch a particular string of the lute, while nothing else in the room seems to feel it. perhaps, too, sorrow deepens the heart wonderfully, and opens a channel into the depths of all other hearts. and i am sure fritz has known very deep sorrow. what, i do not exactly know; and i would not for the world try to find out. if there is a secret chamber in his heart, which he cannot bear to open to any one, when i think his thoughts are there, would i not turn aside my eyes and creep softly away, that he might never know i had found it out? the innermost sanctuary of his heart is, however, i know, not a chamber of darkness and death, but a holy place of daylight, for god is there. hours and hours fritz and i spoke of dr. luther, and what he had done for us both; more, perhaps, for fritz than even for me, because he had suffered more. it seems to me as if we and thousands besides in the world had been worshipping before an altar-picture of our saviour, which we had been told was painted by a great master after a heavenly pattern. but all we could see was a grim, hard, stern countenance of one sitting on a judgment throne; in his hands lightnings, and worse lightnings buried in the cloud of his severe and threatening brow. and then, suddenly we heard dr. luther's voice behind us saying, in his ringing, inspiring tones, "friends, what are you doing? that is not the right painting. these are only the boards which hide the master's picture." and so saying, he drew aside the terrible image on which we had been hopelessly gazing, vainly trying to read some traces of tenderness and beauty there. and all at once the real picture was revealed to us, the picture of the real christ, with the look on his glorious face which he had on the cross, when he said of his murderers, "father, forgive them; they know not what they do;" and to his mother, "woman, behold thy son?" or to the sinful woman who washed his feet, "go in peace." fritz and i also spoke very often of eva. at least, he liked me to speak of her while he listened. and i never weary of speaking of our eva. but then fritz went away. and now it is many weeks since we have heard from him; and the last tidings we had were that little note from the convent-prison of mainz! and now dr. luther is gone--gone to the stronghold of his enemies--gone, perhaps, as our grandmother says, to martyrdom! and who will keep that glorious revelation of the true, loving, pardoning god open for us,--with a steady hand keep open those false shutters, now that he is withdrawn? dr. melancthon may do as well for the learned, for the theologians; but who will replace dr. luther to _us_, to the people, to working men and eager youths, and to women and to children? who will make us feel as he does that religion is not a study, or a profession, or a system of doctrines, but life in god; that prayer is not, as he said, an ascension of the heart as a spiritual exercise into some vague airy heights, but the lifting of the heart _to god_, to a heart which meets us, cares for us, loves us inexpressibly? who will ever keep before us as he does the "our father," which makes all the rest of the lord's prayer and all prayer possible and helpful? no wonder that mothers held out their children to receive his blessing as he left us, and then went home weeping, whilst even strong men brushed away tears from their eyes. it is true, dr. bugenhagen, who has escaped from persecution in pomerania, preaches fervently in his pulpit; and archdeacon carlstadt is full of fire, and dr. melancthon full of light; and many good, wise men are left. but dr. luther seemed the heart and soul of all. others might say wiser things, and he might say many things others would be too wise to say, but it is through dr. luther's heart that god has revealed his heart and his word to thousands in our country, and no one can ever be to us what he is. day and night we pray for his safety. _april_ . christopher has returned from erfurt, where he heard dr. luther preach. he told us that in many places his progress was like that of a beloved prince through his dominions, of a prince who was going out to some great battle for his land. peasants blessed him; poor men and women thronged around him and entreated him not to trust his precious life among his enemies. one aged priest at nüremberg brought out to him a portrait of savonarola, the good priest whom the pope burned at florence not forty years ago. one aged widow came to him and said her parents had told her god would send a deliverer to break the yoke of rome, and she thanked god she saw him before she died. at erfurt sixty burghers and professors rode out some miles to escort him into the city. there, where he had relinquished all earthly prospects to beg bread as a monk through the streets, the streets were thronged with grateful men and women, who welcomed him as their liberator from falsehood and spiritual tyranny. christopher heard him preach in the church of the augustinian convent, where he had (as fritz told me) suffered such agonies of conflict. he stood there now an excommunicated man, threatened with death; but he stood there as victor, through christ, over the tyranny and lies of satan. he seemed entirely to forget his own danger in the joy of the eternal salvation he came to proclaim. not a word, christopher said, about himself, or the diet, or the pope's bull, or the emperor, but all about the way a sinner may be saved, and a believer may be joyful. "there are two kinds of works," he said; "external works, our own works. these are worth little. one man builds a church; another makes a pilgrimage to st. peter's; a third fasts, puts on the hood, goes barefoot. all these works are nothing, and will perish. now, i will tell you what is the true good work. _god hath raised again a man, the lord jesus christ, in order that he may crush death, destroy sin, shut the gates of hell. this is the work of salvation._ the devil believed he had the lord in his power when he beheld him between two thieves, suffering the most shameful martyrdom, accursed both of heaven and man. but god put forth his might, and annihilated death, sin, and hell. christ hath won the victory. this is the great news! and we are saved by his work, not by our works. the pope says something very different. i tell you the holy mother of god herself has been saved, not by her virginity, nor by her maternity, nor by her purity, nor by her works, but solely by means of faith, and by the work of god." as he spoke the gallery in which christopher stood listening cracked. many were greatly terrified, and even attempted to rush out. dr. luther stopped a moment, and then stretching out his hand said, in his clear, firm voice, "fear not, there is no danger. the devil would thus hinder the preaching of the gospel, but he will not succeed." then returning to his text, he said, "perhaps you will say to me, 'you speak to us much about faith, teach us how we may obtain it.' yes, indeed, that is what i desire to teach you. our lord jesus christ has said, '_peace be unto you. behold my hands._' and this is as if he said, 'o man, it is i alone who have taken away thy sins, and who have redeemed thee, and now _thou hast peace_, saith the lord.'" and he concluded,-- "since god has saved us, let us so order our works that he may take pleasure therein. art thou rich? let thy goods be serviceable to the poor. art thou poor? let thy services be of use to the rich. if thy labours are useless to all but thyself, the services thou pretendest to render to god are a mere lie." christopher left dr. luther at erfurt. he said many tried to persuade the doctor not to venture to worms; others reminded him of john huss, burned in spite of the safe-conduct. and as he went, in some places the papal excommunication was affixed on the walls before his eyes; but he said, "if i perish, the truth will not." and nothing moved him from his purpose. christopher was most deeply touched with that sermon. he said the text, "_peace be unto you; and when he had so said jesus showed unto them his hands and his side_," rang through his heart all the way home to wittemberg, through the forests and the plain. the pathos of the clear true voice we may never hear again writes them on his heart; and more than that. i trust the deeper pathos of the voice which uttered the cry of agony once on the cross for us,--the agony which won the peace. yes; when dr. luther speaks he makes us feel we have to do with persons, not with things,--with the devil who hates us, with god who loves us, with the saviour who died for us. it is not holiness only and justification, or sin and condemnation. it is we sinning and condemned, christ suffering for us, and god justifying and loving us. it is all i and thou. he brings us face to face with god, not merely sitting serene on a distant imperial throne, frowning in terrible majesty, or even smiling in gracious pity, but coming down to us close, seeking us, and caring, caring unutterably much, that we, even we, should be saved. i never knew, until dr. luther drove out of wittemberg, and the car with the cloth curtains to protect him from the weather, which the town had provided, passed out of sight, and i saw the tears gently flowing down my mother's face, how much she loved and honoured him. she seems almost as anxious about him as about fritz; and she did not reprove me that night when she came in and found me weeping by my bed. she only drew me to her and smoothed down my hair, and said, "poor little thekla! god will teach us both how to have none other gods but himself. he will do it very tenderly; but neither thy mother nor thy saviour can teach thee this lesson without many a bitter tear." xix. fritz's story. ebernburg, _april_ , . a chasm has opened between me and my monastic life. i have been in the prison, and in the prison have i received at last, in full, my emancipation. the ties i dreaded impatiently to break have been broken for me, and i am a monk no longer. i could not but speak to my brethren in the convent of the glad tidings which had brought me such joy. it is as impossible for christian life not to diffuse itself as that living water should not flow, or that flames should not rise. gradually a little band of christ's freedmen gathered around me. at first i did not speak to them much of dr. luther's writings. my purpose was to show them that dr. luther's doctrine was _not_ his own, but god's. but the time came when dr. luther's name was on every lip. the bull of excommunication went forth against him from the vatican. his name was branded as that of the vilest of heretics by every adherent of the pope. in many churches, especially those of the dominicans, the people were summoned by the great bells to a solemn service of anathema, where the whole of the priests, gathered at the altar in the darkened building, pronounced the terrible words of doom and then, flinging down their blazing torches extinguished them on the stone pavement, as hope, they said, was extinguished by the anathema for the soul of the accursed. at one of these services i was accidentally present. and mine was not the only heart which glowed with burning indignation to hear that worthy name linked with those of apostates and heretics, and held up to universal execration. but, perhaps, in no heart there did it enkindle such a fire as in mine. because i knew the source from which those curses came, how lightly, how carelessly those firebrands were flung; not fiercely, by the fanaticism of blinded consciences, but daintily and deliberately, by cruel, reckless hands, as a matter of diplomacy and policy, by those who cared themselves neither for god's curse nor his blessing. and i knew also the heart which they were meant to wound; how loyal, how tender, how true; how slowly, and with what pain dr. luther had learned to believe the idols of his youth a lie; with what a wrench, when the choice at last had to be made between the word of god and the voice of the church, he had clung to the bible, and let the hopes, and trust, and friendships of earlier days be torn from him; what anguish that separation still cost him; how willingly, as a humble little child, at the sacrifice of anything but truth and human souls, he would have flung himself again on the bosom of that church to which, in his fervent youth, he had offered up all that makes life dear. "_they curse, but bless thou._" the words came, unbidden into my heart, and almost unconsciously from my lips. around me i heard more than one "amen;" but at the same time i became aware that i was watched by malignant eyes. after the publication of the excommunication, they publicly burned the writings of dr. luther in the great square. mainz was the first city in germany where this indignity was offered him. mournfully i returned to my convent. in the cloisters of our order the opinions concerning luther are much divided. the writings of st. augustine have kept the truth alive in many hearts amongst us; and besides this, there is the natural bias to one of our own order, and the party opposition to the dominicans, tetzel and eck, dr. luther's enemies. probably there are few augustinian convents in which there are not two opposite parties in reference to dr. luther. in speaking of the great truths, of god freely justifying the sinner because christ died, (the judge acquitting because the judge himself had suffered for the guilty), i had endeavoured to trace them, as i have said, beyond all human words to their divine authority. but now to confess luther seemed to me to have become identical with confessing christ. it is the truth which is assailed in any age which tests our fidelity. it is to _confess_ we are called, not merely to _profess_. if i profess, with the loudest voice and the clearest exposition, every portion of the truth of god except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, i am not confessing christ, however boldly i may be professing christianity. where the battle rages the loyalty of the soldier is proved; and to be steady on all the battle-fields besides is mere flight and disgrace to him if he flinches at that one point. it seems to me also that, practically, the contest in every age of conflict ranges usually round the person of one faithful, godsent man, whom to follow loyally is fidelity to god. in the days of the first judaizing assault on the early church, that man was st. paul. in the great arian battle, this man was athanasius--"_athanasius contra mundum_." in our days, in our land, i believe it is luther; and to deny luther would be for me who learned the truth from his lips, to deny christ. luther, i believe, is the man whom god has given to his church in germany in this age. luther, therefore, i will follow--not as a perfect example, but as a god-appointed leader. men can never be neutral in great religious contests; and if, because of the little wrong in the right cause, or the little evil in the good man, we refuse to take the side of right, we are, by that very act, silently taking the side of wrong. when i came back to the convent i found the storm gathering. i was asked if i possessed any of dr. luther's writings. i confessed that i did. it was demanded that they should be given up. i said they could be taken from me, but i would not willingly give them up to destruction, because i believed they contained the truth of god. thus the matter ended until we had each retired to our cells for the night, when one of the older monks came to me and accused me of secretly spreading lutheran heresy among the brethren. i acknowledged i had diligently, but not secretly, done all i could to spread among the brethren the truths contained in dr. luther's books, although not in his words, but in st. paul's. a warm debate ensued, which ended in the monk angrily leaving the cell, saying that means would be found to prevent the further diffusion of this poison. the next day i was taken into the prison where john of wesel died; the heavy bolts were drawn upon me, and i was left in solitude. as they left me alone, the monk with whom i had the discussion of the previous night said. "in this chamber, not forty years since, a heretic such as martin luther died." the words were intended to produce wholesome fear: they acted as a bracing tonic. the spirit of the conqueror who had seemed to be defeated there, but now stood with the victorious palm before the lamb, seemed near me. the spirit of the truth for which he suffered was with me; and in the solitude of that prison i learned lessons years might not have taught me elsewhere. no one except those who have borne them knows how strong are the fetters which bind us to a false faith, learned at our mother's knee, and riveted on us by the sacrifices of years. perhaps i should never have been able to break them. for me, as for thousands of others, they were rudely broken by hostile hands. but the blows which broke them were the accolade which smote me from a monk into a knight and soldier of my lord. yes; there i learned that these vows which have bound me for so many years are bonds, not to god, but to a lying tyranny. the only true vows, as dr. luther says, are the vows of our baptism--to renounce the world, the flesh, and the devil, as soldiers of christ. the only divine order is the common order of christianity. all other orders are disorder; not confederations within the church, but conspiracies against it. if, in an army, the troops choose to abandon the commander's arrangement, and range themselves, by arbitrary rules, in peculiar uniforms, around self-elected leaders, they would not be soldiers--they would be mutineers. god's order is, i think, the state to embrace all men, the church to embrace all christian men; and the kernel of the state and the type of the church is the family. he creates us to be infants, children--sons, daughters--husband, wife--father, mother. he says, obey your parents, love your wife, reverence your husband, love your children. as children, let the lord at nazareth be your model; as married, let the lord, who loved the church better than life, be your type; as parents, let the heavenly father be your guide. and if we, abandoning every holy name of family love he has sanctioned, and every lowly duty he has enjoined, choose to band ourselves anew into isolated conglomerations of men or women, connected only by a common name and dress, we are not only amiable enthusiasts--we are rebels against the divine order of humanity. god, indeed, may call some especially to forsake father and mother, and wife and children, and all things for his dearer love. but when he calls to such destinies, it is by the plain voice of providence, or by the bitter call of persecution; and then the martyr's or the apostle's solitary path is as much the lowly, simple path of obedience as the mother's or the child's. the crown of the martyr is consecrated by the same holy oil which anoints the head of the bride, the mother, or the child,--the consecration of love and of obedience. there is none other. all that is not duty is sin; all that is not obedience is disobedience; all that is not of love is of self; and self crowned with thorns in a cloister is as selfish as self crowned with ivy at a revel. therefore i abandon cowl and cloister for ever. i am no more brother sebastian, of the order of the eremites of st. augustine. i am friedrich cotta, margaret cotta's son, elsè and thekla's brother fritz. i am no more a monk. i am a christian--i am no more a vowed augustinian. i am a baptized christian, dedicated to christ from the arms of my mother, united to him by the faith of my manhood. henceforth i will order my life by no routine of ordinances imposed by the will of a dead man hundreds of years since. but day by day i will seek to yield myself, body, soul, and spirit to the living will of my almighty, loving god, saying to him morning by morning, "give me this day my daily bread. appoint to me this day my daily task." and he will never fail to hear, however often i may fail to ask. i had abundance of time for those thoughts in my prison; for during the three weeks i lay there i had, with the exception of the bread and water which were silently laid inside the door every morning, but two visits. and these were from my friend the aged monk who had first told me about john of wesel. the first time he came (he said) to persuade me to recant. but whatever he intended, he said little about recantation--much more about his own weakness, which hindered him from confessing the same truth. the second time he brought me a disguise, and told me he had provided the means for my escape that very night. when, therefore, i heard the echoes of the heavy bolts of the great doors die away through the long stone corridors, and listened till the last tramp of feet ceased, and door after door of the various cells was closed, and every sound was still throughout the building, i laid aside my monk's cowl and frock, and put on the burgher dress provided for me. to me it was a glad and solemn ceremony, and, alone in my prison, i prostrated myself on the stone floor, and thanked him who, by his redeeming death and the emancipating word of his free spirit, had made me a free man, nay, infinitely better, _his freedman_. the bodily freedom to which i looked forward was to me a light boon indeed, in comparison with the liberty of heart already mine. the putting on this common garb of secular life was to me like a solemn investiture with the freedom of the city and the empire of god. henceforth i was not to be a member of a narrow, separated class, but of the common family; no more to freeze alone on a height, but to tread the lowly path of common duty; to help my brethren, not as men at a sumptuous table throw crumbs to beggars and dogs, but to live amongst them--to share my bread of life with them; no longer as the forerunner in the wilderness, but, like the master, in the streets, and highways, and homes of men; assuming no nobler name than man created in the image of god, born in the image of adam; aiming at no loftier title than christian, redeemed by the blood of christ, and created anew, to be conformed to his glorious image. yes, as the symbol of a freedman, as the uniform of a soldier, as the armour of a sworn knight, at once freeman and servant, was that lowly burgher's dress to me; and with a joyful heart, when the aged monk came to me again, i stepped after him, leaving my monk's frock lying in the corner of the cell, like the husk of that old lifeless life. in vain did i endeavour to persuade my liberator to accompany me in my flight. "the world would be a prison to me, brother," he said with a sad smile. "all i loved in it are dead, and what could i do there, with the body of an old man and the helpless inexperience of a child? fear not for me," he added; "i also shall, i trust, one day dwell in a home; but not on earth!" and so we parted, he returning to the convent, and i taking my way, by river and forest, to this castle of the noble knight franz von sickingen, on a steep height at the angle formed by the junction of two rivers. my silent weeks of imprisonment had been weeks of busy life in the world outside. when i reached this castle of ebernburg, i found the whole of its inhabitants in a ferment about the summoning of dr. luther to worms. his name, and my recent imprisonment for his faith, were a sufficient passport to the hospitality of the castle, and i was welcomed most cordially. it was a great contrast to the monotonous routine of the convent and the stillness of the prison. all was life and stir; eager debates as to what it would be best to do for dr. luther; incessant coming and going of messengers on horse and foot between ebernburg and worms, where the diet is already sitting, and where the good knight franz spends much of his time in attendance on the emperor. ulrich von hutton is also here, from time to time, vehement in his condemnation of the fanaticism of monks and the lukewarmness of princes; and dr. bucer, a disciple of dr. luther's, set free from the bondage of rome by his healthful words at the great conference of the augustinians at heidelberg. _april_ , . the events of an age seem to have been crowded into the last month. a few days after i wrote last, it was decided to send a deputation to dr. luther, who was then rapidly approaching worms, entreating him not to venture into the city, but to turn aside to ebernburg. the emperor's confessor, glapio, had persuaded the knight von sickingen and the chaplain bucer, that all might easily be arranged, if dr. luther only avoided the fatal step of appearing at the diet. a deputation of horsemen was therefore sent to intercept the doctor on his way, and to conduct him, if he would consent, to ebernburg, the "refuge and hostelry of righteousness," as it has been termed. i accompanied the little band, of which bucer was to be chief spokesman. i did not think dr. luther would come. unlike the rest of the party, i had known him not only when he stepped on the great stage of the world as the antagonist of falsehood, but as the simple, straightforward, obscure monk. and i knew that the step which to others seemed so great, leading him from safe obscurity into perilous pre-eminence before the eyes of all christendom, was to him no great momentary effort, but simply one little step in the path of obedience and lowly duty which he had been endeavouring to tread so many years. but i feared. i distrusted glapio, and believed that all this earnestness on the part of the papal party to turn the doctor aside was not for his sake, but for their own. i needed not, at least, have distrusted dr. luther. bucer entreated him with the eloquence of affectionate solicitude; his faithful friends and fellow-travellers, jonas, amsdorf, and schurff, wavered, but dr. luther did not hesitate an instant. he was in the path of obedience. the next step was as unquestionable and essential as all the rest, although, as he had once said, "it led through flames which extended from worms to wittemberg, and raged up to heaven." he did not, however, use any of these forcible illustrations now, natural as they were to him. he simply said,-- "i continue my journey. if the emperor's confessor has anything to say to me, he can say it at worms. _i will go to the place to which i have been summoned._" and he went on, leaving the friendly deputation to return to ebernburg. i did not leave him. as we went on the way, some of those who had accompanied him told me through what fervent greetings and against what vain entreaties of fearful affection he had pursued his way thus far; how many had warned him that he was going to the stake, and had wept that they should see his face no more; how, through much bodily weakness and suffering, through acclamations and tears, he had passed on simply and steadfastly, blessing little children in the schools he visited, and telling them to search the scriptures; comforting the timid and aged, stirring up the hearts of all to faith and prayer, and by his courage and trust more than once turning enemies into friends. "are you the man who is to overturn the popedom?" said a soldier, accosting him rather contemptuously at a halting-place; "how will you accomplish that?" "i rely on almighty god," he replied, "whose orders i have." and the soldier replied reverently,-- "i serve the emperor charles; your master is greater than mine." one more assault awaited dr. luther before he reached his destination. it came through friendly lips. when he arrived near worms, a messenger came riding towards us from his faithful friend spalatin, the elector's chaplain, and implored him on no account to think of entering the city. the doctor's old fervour of expression returned at such a temptation meeting him so near the goal. "go tell your master," he said, "that if there were at worms as many devils as there are tiles on the roofs, yet would i go in." and he went in. a hundred cavaliers met him near the gates, and escorted him within the city. two thousand people were eagerly awaiting him, and pressed to see him as he passed through the streets. not all friends. fanatical spaniards were among them, who had torn his books in pieces from the book-stalls, and crossed themselves when they looked at him, as if he had been the devil; baffled partisans of the pope: and on the other hand, timid christians who hoped all from his courage; men who had waited long for this deliverence, had received life from his words, and had kept his portrait in their homes and hearts encircled like that of a canonized saint with a glory. and through the crowd he passed, the only man, perhaps, in it who did not see dr. luther through a mist of hatred or of glory, but felt himself a solitary, feeble, helpless man, leaning only, yet resting securely, on the arm of almighty strength. those who knew him best perhaps wondered at him most during those days which followed. not at his courage--that we had expected--but at his calmness and moderation. it was this which seemed to me most surely the seal of god on that fervent impetuous nature, stamping the work and the man as of god. we none of us know how he would have answered before that august assembly. at his first appearance some of us feared he might have been too vehement. the elector frederick could not have been more moderate and calm. when asked whether he would retract his books, i think there were few among us who were not surprised at the noble self-restraint of his reply. he asked for time. "most gracious emperor, gracious princes and lords," he said, "with regard to the first accusation, i acknowledge the books enumerated to have been from me. i cannot disown them. as regards the second, seeing that is a question of the faith and the salvation of souls, and of god's word, the most precious treasure in heaven or earth, i should act rashly were i to reply hastily. i might affirm less than the case requires, or more than truth demands, and thus offend against that word of christ, 'whosoever shall deny me before men, him will i also deny before my father who is in heaven.' wherefore i beseech your imperial majesty, with all submission, to allow me time that i may reply without doing prejudice to the word of god." he could afford to be thought for the time what many of his enemies tauntingly declared him, a coward, brave in the cell, but appalled when he came to face the world. during the rest of that day he was full of joy; "like a child," said some, "who knows not what is before him;" "like a veteran," said others, "who has prepared everything for the battle;" like both, i thought, since the strength of the veteran in the battles of god is the strength of the child following his father's eye, and trusting on his father's arm. a conflict awaited him afterwards in the course of the night, which one of us witnessed, and which made him who witnessed it feel no wonder that the imperial presence had no terrors for luther on the morrow. alone that night our leader fought the fight to which all other combats were but as a holiday tournament. prostrate on the ground, with sobs and bitter tears, he prayed,-- "almighty, everlasting god, how terrible this world is! how it would open its jaws to devour me, and how weak is my trust in thee! the flesh is weak, and the devil is strong! o thou my god, help me against all the wisdom of this world. do thou the work. it is for thee alone to do it; for the work is thine, not mine. i have nothing to bring me here. i have no controversy to maintain, not i, with the great ones of the earth. i too would that my days should glide along, happy and calm. but the cause is thine. it is righteous, it is eternal. o lord, help me; thou that art faithful, thou that art unchangeable. it is not in any man i trust. that were vain indeed. all that is in man gives way; all that comes from man faileth. o god, my god, dost thou not hear me? art thou dead? no; thou canst not die! thou art but hiding thyself. thou hast chosen me for this work. i know it. oh, then, arise and work. be thou on my side, for the sake of thy beloved son jesus christ, who is my defence, my shield and my fortress. "o lord, my god, where art thou? come, come; i am ready--ready to forsake life for thy truth, patient as a lamb. for it is a righteous cause, and it is thine own. i will not depart from thee, now nor through eternity. and although the world should be full of demons; although my body, which, nevertheless, is the work of thine hands, should be doomed to bite the dust, to be stretched upon the rack, cut into pieces, consumed to ashes, the soul is thine. yes; for this i have the assurance of thy word. my soul is thine. it will abide near thee throughout the endless ages. amen. o god, help thou me! amen!" ah, how little those who follow know the agony it costs to take the first step, to venture on the perilous ground no human soul around has tried! insignificant indeed the terrors of the empire to one who had seen the terrors of the almighty. petty indeed are the assaults of flesh and blood to him who has withstood principalities and powers, and the hosts of the prince of darkness. at four o'clock the marshal of the empire came to lead him to his trial. but his real hour of trial was over, and calm and joyful dr. luther passed through the crowded streets to the imperial presence. as he drew near the door, the veteran general freundsberg, touching his shoulder, said-- "little monk, you have before you an encounter such as neither i nor any other captains have seen the like of even in our bloodiest campaigns. but if your cause be just, and if you know it to be so, go forward in the name of god, and fear nothing. god will not forsake you." friendly heart! he knew not that our martin luther was coming _from_ his battle-field, and was simply going as a conqueror to declare before men the victory he had won from mightier foes. and so at last he stood, the monk, the peasant's son, before all the princes of the empire, the kingliest heart among them all, crowned with a majesty which was incorruptible, because invisible to worldly eyes; one against thousands who were bent on his destruction; one in front of thousands who leant on his fidelity; erect because he rested on that unseen arm above. the words he spoke that day are ringing through all germany. the closing sentence will never be forgotten-- "_here i stand. i cannot do otherwise. god help me. amen._" to him these deeds of heroism are acts of simple obedience; every step inevitable, because every step is duty. in this path he leans on god's help absolutely and only. and all faithful hearts throughout the land respond to his amen. on the other hand, many of the polished courtiers and subtle roman diplomatists saw no eloquence in his words, words which stirred every true heart to its depths. "that man," said they, "will never convince us." how should he? his arguments were not in their language, nor addressed to them, but to true and honest hearts; and to such they spoke. to men with whom eloquence means elaborate fancies, decorating corruption or veiling emptiness, what could st. paul seem but a "babbler?" all men of earnest purpose acknowledged their force;--enemies, by indignant clamour that he should be silenced: friends, by wondering gratitude to god who had stood by him. it was nearly dark when the diet broke up. as dr. luther came out, escorted by the imperial officers, a panic spread through the crowd collected in the street, and from every lip to lip was heard the cry,-- "they are taking him to prison." "they are leading me to my hotel," said the calm voice of him whom this day has made the great man of germany. and the tumult subsided. ebernburg, _june_, . dr. luther has disappeared! not one that i have seen knows at this moment where they have taken him, whether he is in the hands of friend or foe, whether even he is still on earth! we ought to have heard of his arrival at wittemberg many days since. but no inquiries can trace him beyond the village of mora in the thuringian forest. there he went from eisenach on his way back to wittemberg, to visit his aged grandmother and some of his father's relations, peasant farmers who live on the clearings of the forest. in his grandmother's lowly home he passed the night, and took leave of her the next morning; and no one has heard of him since. we are not without hope that he is in the hands of friends; yet fears will mingle with these hopes. his enemies are so many and so bitter; and no means would seem, to many of them, unworthy, to rid the world of such a heretic. while he yet remained at worms the romans strenuously insisted that his obstinacy had made the safe-conduct invalid; some even of the german princes urged that he should be seized; and it was only by the urgent remonstrances of others, who protested that they would never suffer such a blot on german honour, that he was saved. at the same time the most insidious efforts were made to persuade him to retreat, or to resign his safe-conduct in order to show his willingness to abide by the issue of a fair discussion. this last effort, appealing to dr. luther's confidence in the truth for which he was ready to die, had all but prevailed with him. but a knight who was present when it was made, seeing through the treachery, fiercely ejected the priest who proposed it from the house. yet through all assaults, insidious or open, dr. luther remained calm and unmoved, moved by no threats, ready to listen to any fair proposition. among all the polished courtiers and proud princes and prelates, he seemed to me to stand like an ambassador from an imperial court among the petty dignitaries of some petty province. his manners had the dignity of one who has been accustomed to a higher presence than any around him, giving to every one the honour due to him, indifferent to all personal slights, but inflexible on every point that concerned the honour of his sovereign. those of us who had known him in earlier days saw in him all the simplicity, the deep earnestness, the child-like delight in simple pleasures we had known in him of old. it was our old friend martin luther, but it seemed as if our luther had come back to us from a residence in heaven, such a peace and majesty dwelt in all he said. one incident especially struck me. when the glass he was about to drink of at the feast given by the archbishop of treves, one of the papal party, shivered in his hand as he signed the cross over it, and his friends exclaimed "poison!" he (so ready usually to see spiritual agency in all things) quietly observed that "the glass had doubtless broken on account of its having been plunged too soon into cold water when it was washed." his courage was no effort of a strong nature. he simply trusted in god, and really was afraid of nothing. and now he is gone. whether among friends or foes, in a hospital refuge such as this, or in a hopeless secret dungeon, to us for the time at least he is dead. no word of sympathy or counsel passes between us. the voice which all germany hushed its breath to hear is silenced. under the excommunication of the pope, under the ban of the empire, branded as a heretic, sentenced as a traitor, reviled by the emperor's own edict as "a fool, a blasphemer, a devil clothed in a monk's cowl," it is made treason to give him food or shelter, and a virtue to deliver him to death. and to all this, if he is living, he can utter no word of reply. meantime, on the other hand, every word of his is treasured up and clothed with the sacred pathos of the dying words of a father. the noble letter which he wrote to the nobles describing his appearance before the diet is treasured in every home. yet some among us derive not a little hope from the last letter he wrote, which was to lucas cranach, from frankfort. in it he says,-- "the jews may sing once more their 'io! io!' but to us also the easter-day will come, and then will we sing alleluia. a little while we must be silent and suffer. 'a little while,' said christ, 'and ye shall not see me; and again a little while and ye shall see me.' i hope it may be so now. but the will of god, the best in all things, be done in this as in heaven and earth. amen." many of us think it is a dim hint to those who love him that he knew what was before him, and that after a brief concealment for safety, "till this tyranny be overpast," he will be amongst us once more. i, at least, think so, and pray that to him this time of silence may be a time of close intercourse with god, from which he may come forth refreshed and strengthened to guide and help us all. and meantime, a work, not without peril, but full of sacred joy, opens before me. i have been supplied by the friends of dr. luther's doctrine with copies of his books and pamphlets, both in latin and german, which i am to sell as a hawker through the length and breadth of germany, and in any other lands i can penetrate. i am to start to-morrow, and to me my pack and strap are burdens more glorious than the armour of a prince of the empire; my humble pedlar's coat and staff are vestments more sacred than the robes of a cardinal or the weeds of a pilgrim. for am i not a pilgrim to the city which hath foundations! is not my yoke the yoke of christ? and am i not distributing, among thirsty and enslaved men, the water of life and the truth which sets the heart free? black forest, _may_ . the first week of my wandering life is over. to-day my way lay through the solitary paths of the black forest, which, eleven years ago, i trod with dr. martin luther, on our pilgrimage to rome. both of us then wore the monk's frock and cowl. both were devoted subjects of the pope, and would have deprecated, as the lowest depth of degradation, his anathema. yet at that very time martin luther bore in his heart the living germ of all that is now agitating men's hearts from pomerania to spain. he was already a freedman of christ, and he knew it. the holy scriptures were already to him the one living fountain of truth. believing simply on him who died, the just for the unjust, he had received the free pardon of his sins. prayer was to him the confiding petition of a forgiven child received to the heart of the father, and walking humbly by his side. christ he knew already as the confessor and priest; the holy spirit as the personal teacher through his own word. the fetters of the old ceremonial were indeed still around him, but only as the brown casings still swathe many of the swelling buds of the young leaves; which others, this may morning, cracked and burst as i passed along in the silence through the green forest paths. the moment of liberation, to the passer-by always seems a great, sudden effort; but those who have watched the slow swelling of the imprisoned bud, know that the last expansion of life which bursts the scaly cerements is but one moment of the imperceptible but incessant growth, of which even the apparent death of winter was a stage. but it is good to live in the spring time; and as i went on, my heart sang with the birds and the leaf-buds, "for me also the cerements of winter are burst,--for me and for all the land!" and as i walked, i sang aloud the old easter hymn which eva used to love:-- fone luctum, magdalena, et serena lacrymas; non es jam cermonis coena, non cur fletum exprimas; causae mille sunt lætandi, causae mille exultandi, alleluia resonet! suma risum, magdalena, frons nitescat lucida; denigravit omnis poena, lux coruscat fulgida; christus nondum liberavit, et de morte triumphavit: alleluia resonet! gaude, plaude magdalena, tumbâ christus exiit; tristis est per acta scena, victor mortis rediit; quem deflebis morientem, nunc arride resurgentem: alleluia resonet! tolle vultum, magdalena, redivivum obstupe: vide frons quam sit amoena, quinque plagas adspice; fulgem sicut margaritæ, ornamenta rovæ vitæ: alleluia resonet! vive, vive, magdalena! tua lux reversa est; guadiis turgesit vena, mortis vis obstersa est; maesti procul sunt dolores, læti redeant amores: alleluia resonet! yes, even in the old dark times, heart after heart, in quiet homes and secret convent cells, has doubtless learned this hidden joy. but now the world seems learning it. the winter has its robins, with their solitary warblings; but now the spring is here, the songs come in choruses,--and thank god i am awake to listen! but the voice which awoke this music first in my heart, among these very forests--and since then, through the grace of god, in countless hearts throughout this and all lands--what silence hushes it now? the silence of the grave, or only of some friendly refuge? in either case, doubtless, it is not silent to god. i had scarcely finished my hymn, when the trees became more scattered and smaller, as if they had been cleared not long since; and i found myself on the edge of a valley, on the slopes of which nestled a small village, with its spire and belfry rising among the wooden cottages, and flocks of sheep and goats grazing in the pastures beside the little stream which watered it. i lifted up my heart to god, that some hearts in that peaceful place might welcome the message of eternal peace through the books i carried. as i entered the village, the priest came out of the parsonage--an aged man, with a gentle, kindly countenance--and courteously saluted me. i offered to show him my wares. "it is not likely there will be anything there for me," he said, smiling. "my days are over for ballads and stories, such as i suppose your merchandise consists of." but when he saw the name of luther on the title-page of a volume which i showed him, his face changed, and he said in a grave voice, "do you know what you carry?" "i trust i do," i replied. "i carry most of these books in my heart as well as on my shoulders." "but do you know the danger?" the old man continued. "we have heard that dr. luther has been excommunicated by the pope, and laid under the ban of the empire; and only last week, a travelling merchant, such as yourself, told us that his body had been seen pierced through with a hundred wounds." "that was not true three days since," i said. "at least, his best friends at worms knew nothing of it." "thank god!" he said; "for in this village we owe that good man much. and if," he added timidly, "he has indeed fallen into heresy, it would be well he had time to repent." in that village i sold many of my books, and left others with the good priest, who entertained me most hospitably, and sent me on my way with a tearful farewell, compounded of blessings, warnings, and prayers. paris, _july_, . i have crossed the french frontier, and have been staying some days in this great, gay, learned city. in germany, my books procured me more of welcome than of opposition. in some cases, even where the local authorities deemed it their duty publicly to protest against them, they themselves secretly assisted in their distribution. in others, the eagerness to purchase, and to glean any fragment of information about luther, drew a crowd around me, who, after satisfying themselves that i had no news to give them of his present state, lingered as long as i would speak, to listen to my narrative of his appearance before the emperor at worms, while murmurs of enthusiastic approval, and often sobs and tears, testified the sympathy of the people with him. in the towns, many more copies of his "letter to the german nobles" were demanded than i could supply. but what touched me most was to see the love and almost idolatrous reverence which had gathered around his name in remote districts, among the oppressed and toiling peasantry. i remember especially, in one village, a fine-looking old peasant farmer taking me to an inner room where hung a portrait of luther, encircled with a glory, with a curtain before it. "see!" he said. "the lord of that castle," and he pointed to a fortress on an opposite height, "has wrought me and mine many a wrong. two of my sons have perished in his selfish feuds, and his huntsmen lay waste my fields as they choose in the chase; yet, if i shoot a deer, i may be thrown into the castle dungeon, as mine have been before. but their reign is nearly over now. i saw _that man_ at worms. i heard him speak, bold as a lion, for the truth, before emperor, princes, and prelates. god has sent us the deliverer; and the reign of righteousness will come at last, when every man shall have his due." "friend," i said, with an aching heart, "the deliverer came fifteen hundred years ago, but the reign of justice has not come to the world yet. the deliverer was crucified, and his followers since then have suffered, not reigned." "god is patient," he said, "and _we_ have been patient long, god knows; but i trust the time is come at last." "but the redemption dr. luther proclaims," i said, gently, "is liberty from a worse bondage than that of the nobles, and it is a liberty no tyrant, no dungeon, can deprive us of--the liberty of the sons of god;"--and he listened earnestly while i spoke to him of justification, and of the suffering, redeeming lord. but at the end he said-- "yes, that is good news. but i trust dr. luther will avenge many a wrong among us yet. they say he was a peasant's son like me." if i were dr. luther, and knew that the wistful eyes of the oppressed and sorrowful throughout the land were turned to me, i should be tempted to say-- "lord, let me die before these oppressed and burdened hearts learn how little i can help them!" for verily there is much evil done under the sun. yet as truly there is healing for every disease, remedy for every wrong, and rest from every burden, in the tidings dr. luther brings. but remedy of a different kind, i fear, from what too many fondly expect! it is strange, also, to see how, in these few weeks, the wildest tales have sprung up and spread in all directions about dr. luther's disappearance. some say he has been secretly murdered, and that his wounded corpse has been seen; others, that he was borne away bleeding through the forest to some dreadful doom; while others boldly assert that he will re-appear at the head of a band of liberators, who will go through the length and breadth of the land, redressing every wrong, and punishing every wrong-doer. truly, if a few weeks can throw such a haze around facts, what would a century without a written record have done for christianity; or what would that record itself have been without inspiration? the country was in some parts very disturbed. in alsace i came on a secret meeting of the peasants, who have bound themselves with the most terrible oaths to wage war to the death against the nobles. more than once i was stopped by a troop of horsemen near a castle, and my wares searched, to see if they belonged to the merchants of some city with whom the knight of the castle was at feud; and on one of these occasions it might have fared ill with me if a troop of landsknechts in the service of the empire had not appeared in time to rescue me and my companions. yet everywhere the name of luther was of equal interest. the peasants believed he would rescue them from the tyranny of the nobles; and many of the knights spoke of him as the assertor of german liberties against a foreign yoke. more than one poor parish priest welcomed him as the deliverer from the avarice of the great abbeys or the prelates. thus, in farm-house and hut, in castle and parsonage, i and my books found many a cordial welcome. and all i could do was to sell the books, and tell all who would listen, that the yoke luther's words were powerful to break was the yoke of the devil the prince of all oppressors, and that the freedom he came to republish was freedom from the tyranny of sin and self. my true welcome, however, the one which rejoiced my heart, was when any said, as many did, on sick-beds, in lowly and noble homes, and in monasteries-- "thank god, these words are in our hearts already. they have taught us the way to god; they _have_ brought us peace and freedom." or when others said-- "i must have that book. this one and that one that i know is another man since he read dr. luther's words." but if i was scarcely prepared for the interest felt in dr. luther in our own land, true german that he is, still less did i expect that his fame would have reached to paris, and even further. the night before i reached this city i was weary with a long day's walk in the dust and heat, and had fallen asleep on a bench in the garden outside a village inn, under the shade of a trellised vine, leaving my pack partly open beside me. when i awoke, a grave and dignified-looking man, who, from the richness of his dress and arms, seemed to be a nobleman, and, from the cut of his slashed doubtlet and mantle, a spaniard, sat beside me, deeply engaged in reading one of my books. i did not stir at first, but watched him in silence. the book he held was a copy of luther's commentary on the galatians, in latin. in a few minutes i moved, and respectfully saluted him. "is this book for sale?" he asked i said it was and named the price. he immediately laid down twice the sum, saying, "give a copy to some one who cannot buy." i ventured to ask if he had seen it before. "i have," he said. "several copies were sent by a swiss printer, frobenius, to castile. and i saw it before at venice. it is prohibited in both castile and venice now. but i have always wished to possess a copy that i might judge for myself. do you know dr. luther?" he asked, as he moved away. "i have known and reverenced him for many years," i said. "they say his life is blameless, do they not?" he asked. "even his bitterest enemies confess it to be so," i replied. "he spoke like a brave man before the diet," he resumed; "gravely and quietly, as true men speak who are prepared to abide by their words. a noble of castile could not have spoken with more dignity than that peasant's son. the italian priests thought otherwise; but the oratory which melts girls into tears from pulpits is not the eloquence for the councils of men. that monk had learned his oratory in a higher school. if you ever see dr. luther again," he added, "tell him that some spaniards, even in the emperor's court, wished him well." and here in paris i find a little band of devout and learned men, lefevre, farel, and briconnet, bishop of meaux, actively employed in translating and circulating the writings of luther and melancthon. the truth in them, they say, they had learned before from the book of god itself, namely, justification through faith in a crucified saviour leading to a life devoted to him. but jealous as the french are of admitting the superiority of anything foreign, and contemptuously as they look on us unpolished germans, the french priests welcome luther as a teacher and a brother, and are as eager to hear all particulars of his life as his countrymen in every town and quiet village throughout germany. they tell me also that the king's own sister, the beautiful and learned duchess margaret of valois, reads dr. luther's writings, and values them greatly. indeed, i sometimes think if he had carried out the intention he formed some years since, of leaving wittemberg for paris, he would have found a noble sphere of action here. the people are so frank in speech, so quick in feeling and perception; and their bright keen wit cuts so much more quickly to the heart of a fallacy than our sober, plodding, northern intellect. basel. before i left ebernburg, the knight ulrich von hutten had taken a warm interest in my expedition; had especially recommended me to seek out erasmus, if ever i reached switzerland; and had himself placed some copies of erasmus' sermons, "praise of folly," among my books. personally i feel a strong attachment to that brave knight. i can never forget the generous letter he wrote to luther before his appearance at the diet:--"_the lord hear thee in the day of trouble: the name of the god of jacob defend thee._ o my beloved luther, my reverend father, fear not; be strong. fight valiantly for christ. as for me, i also will fight bravely. would to god i might see how they knit their brows.... may christ preserve you." yes, to see the baffled enemies knit their brows as they did then, would have been a triumph to the impetuous soldier, but at the time he was prohibited from approaching the court. luther's courageous and noble defence filled him with enthusiastic admiration. he declared the doctor to be a greater soldier than any of the knights. when he heard of dr. luther's disappearance he would have collected a band of daring spirits like himself, and scoured the country in search of him. hutten's objects were high and unselfish. he had no mean and petty ambitions. with sword and pen he had contended against oppression and hypocrisy. to him the roman court was detestable, chiefly as a foreign yoke; the corrupt priesthood, as a domestic usurpation. he had a high ideal of knighthood, and believed that his order, enlightened by learning, and inspired by a free and lofty faith, might emancipate germany and christendom. personal danger he despised, and personal aims. yet with all his fearlessness and high aspirations, i scarcely think he hoped himself to be the hero of his ideal chivalry. the self-control of the pure true knight was too little his. in his visions of a christendom from which falsehood and avarice were to be banished, and where authority was to reside in an order of ideal knights, franz von sickingen, the brave good lord of ebernburg, with his devout wife hedwiga, was to raise the standard, around which ulrich and all the true men in the land were to rally. luther, erasmus, and sickingen, he thought--the types of the three orders, learning, knighthood, and priesthood,--might regenerate the world. erasmus had begun the work with unveiling the light in the sanctuaries of learning. luther had carried it on by diffusing the light among the people. the knights must complete it by forcibly scattering the powers of darkness. conflict is erasmus' detestation. it is luther's necessity. it is hutten's delight. i did not, however, expect much sympathy in my work from erasmus. it seemed to me that hutten, admiring his clear, luminous genius, attributed to him the fire of his own warm and courageous heart. however, i intended to seek him out at basel. circumstances saved me the trouble. as i was entering the city, with my pack nearly empty, hoping to replenish it from the presses of frobenius, an elderly man, with a stoop in his shoulders, giving him the air of a student, ambled slowly past me, clad in a doctor's gown and hat, edged with a broad border of fur. the keen small dark eyes surveyed me and my pack for a minute, and then reining in his horse he joined me, and said, in a soft voice and courtly accent, "we are of the same profession, friend. we manufacture, and you sell. what have you in your pack?" i took out three of my remaining volumes. one was luther's "commentary on the galatians;" the others, his "treatise on the lord's prayer," and his "letter to the german nobles." the rider's brow darkened slightly, and he eyed me suspiciously. "men who supply ammunition to the people in times of insurrection seldom do it at their own risk," he said. "young man, you are on a perilous mission, and would do well to count the cost." "i have counted the cost, sir," i said, "and i willingly brave the peril." "well, well," he replied, "some are born for battle-fields, and some for martyrdom; others for neither. let each keep to his calling,-- 'nequissimam pacem justissimo bello antifero' but 'those who let in the sea on the marshes little know where it will spread.'" this illustration from the dutch dykes awakened my suspicions as to who the rider was, and looking at the thin, sensitive, yet satirical lips, the delicate, sharply-cut features, the pallid complexion, and the dark keen eyes i had seen represented in so many portraits, i could not doubt with whom i was speaking. but i did not betray my discovery. "dr. luther has written some good things, nevertheless," he said. "if he had kept to such devotional works as this," returning to me "the lord's prayer," "he might have served his generation quietly and well; but to expose such mysteries as are treated of here to the vulgar gaze, it is madness!" and he hastily closed the "galatians." then glancing at the "letter to the nobles," he almost threw it into my hand, saying petulently,-- "that pamphlet is an insurrection in itself." "what other books have you?" he asked after a pause. i drew out my last copy of the "encomium of folly." "have you sold many of these?" he asked coolly. "all but this copy," i replied. "and what did people say of it?" "that depended on the purchasers," i replied. "some say the author is the wisest and wittiest man of the age, and if all knew where to stop as he does, the world would slowly grow into paradise, instead of being turned upside down as it is now. others, on the contrary, say that the writer is a coward, who has no courage to confess the truth he knows. and others, again, declare the book is worse than any of luther's and that erasmus is the source of all the mischief in the world, since if he had not broken the lock, luther would never have entered the door." "and _you_ think?" he asked. "i am but a poor pedlar, sir," i said; "but i think there is a long way between pilate's delivering up the glorious king he knew was innocent--perhaps began to see might be divine, and st. peter's denying the master he loved. and the lord who forgave peter knows which is which; which the timid disciple, and which the cowardly friend of his foes. but the eye of man, it seems to me, may find it impossible to distinguish. i would rather be luther at the diet of worms, and under anathema and ban, than either." "bold words!" he said, "to prefer an excommunicated heretic to the prince of the apostles!" but a shade passed over his face, and courteously bidding me farewell, he rode on. the conversation seemed to have thrown a shadow and chill over my heart. after a time, however, the rider slackened his pace again, and beckoned to me to rejoin him. "have you friends in basel?" he asked kindly. "none," i replied; "but i have letters to the printer frobenius, and i was recommended to seek out erasmus." "who recommended you to do that?" he asked. "the good knight ulrich von hutten," i replied. "the prince of all turbulent spirits!" he murmured gravely. "little indeed is there in common between erasmus of rotterdam and that firebrand." "ritter ulrich has the greatest admiration for the genius of erasmus," i said, "and thinks that his learning, with the swords of a few good knights, and the preaching of luther, might set christendom right." "ulrich von hutten should set his own life right first," was the reply. "but let us leave discoursing of christendom and these great projects, which are altogether beyond our sphere. let the knights set chivalry right, and the cardinals the papacy, and the emperor the empire. let the hawker attend to his pack, and erasmus to his studies. perhaps hereafter it will be found that his satires on the follies of the monasteries, and above all his earlier translation of the new testament, had their share in the good work. his motto is, 'kindle the light and the darkness will disperse of itself.'" "if erasmus," i said, "would only consent to share in the result he has indeed contributed so nobly to bring about!" "share in what?" he replied quickly; "in the excommunication of luther? or in the wild projects of hutten? have it supposed that he approves of the coarse and violent invectives of the saxon monk, or the daring schemes of the adventurous knight? no; st. paul wrote courteously, and never returned railing for railing. erasmus should wait till he find a reformer like the apostle ere he join the reformation. but, friend," he added, "i do not deny that luther is a good man, and means well. if you like to abandon your perilous pack, and take to study, you may come to my house, and i will help you as far as i can with money and counsel. for i know what it is to be poor, and i think you ought to be better than a hawker. and," he added, bringing his horse to a stand, "if you hear erasmus maligned again as a coward or a traitor, you may say that god has more room in his kingdom than any men have in their schools; and that it is not always so easy for men who see things on many sides to embrace one. believe also that the loneliness of those who see too much or dare too little to be partisans, often has anguish bitterer than the scaffolds of martyrs. but," he concluded in a low voice, as he left me, "be careful never again to link the names of erasmus and hutten. i assure you nothing can be more unlike. and ulrich von hutten is a most rash and dangerous man." "i will be careful never to forget erasmus," i said, bowing low, as i took the hand he offered. and the doctor rode on. yes, the sorrows of the undecided are doubtless bitterer than those of the courageous; bitterer as poison is bitterer than medicine, as an enemy's wound is bitterer than a physician's. yet it is true that the clearer the insight into difficulty and danger, the greater need be the courage to meet them. the path of the rude simple man who sees nothing but right on one side, and nothing but wrong on the other, is necessarily plainer than his who, seeing much evil in the good cause, and some truth at the foundation of all error, chooses to suffer for the right, mixed as it is, and to suffer side by side with men whose manners distress him, just because he believes the cause is on the whole that of truth and god. luther's school may not indeed have room for erasmus, nor erasmus's school for luther; but god may have compassion and room for both. at basel i replenished my pack from the stores of frobenius, and received very inspiriting tidings from him of the spread of the truth of the gospel (especially by means of the writings of luther) into italy and spain. i did not apply further to erasmus. near zurich, _july_. my heart is full of resurrection hymns. everywhere in the world it seems easter-tide. this morning, as i left zurich, and, climbing one of the heights on this side, looked down on the lake, rippled with silver, through the ranges of green and forest-covered hills, to the glorious barrier of far-off mountains, purple, and golden, and snow-crowned, which encircles switzerland, and thought of the many hearts which, during these years, have been awakened here to the liberty of the sons of god, the old chant of easter and spring burst from my lips:-- plandite coeli, rideat æther summus et imus gaudeat orbis! transivit atræ turba procellæ! subuit almæ gloria palmæ! surgite verni, surgite flores, germina pictis surgite campis! teneris mistæ violis rosæ; candida sparsis lilla calthis! currite plenis carmina venis, fundite lætum barbita metrum; namque revixit sicuti dixit pius illæsus funere jesus. plaudite montes, ludite fontes, resonent valles, repetant colles! io revixit. sicuti dixit pius illæsus funere jesus[ ] [footnote : smile praises, o sky! soft breathe them, o air, below and on high, and everywhere! awake thee, o spring! ye flowers, come forth, with thousand hues tinting the soft green earth! ye violets tender, and sweet roses bright, gay lent-lilies blended with pure lilies white. sweep tides of rich music the new world along, and pour in full measure, sweet lyres, your song! the black troop of storms has yielded to calm; tufted blossoms are peeping, and early palm. sing, sing, for he liveth! he lives, as he said;-- the lord has arisen, unharmed, from the dead! clap, clap your hands, mountains! ye valleys, resound! leap, leap for joy, fountains! ye hills, catch the sound! all triumph; he liveth! he lives, as he said:-- the lord has arisen, unharmed, from the dead!] and when i ceased, the mountain stream which dashed over the rocks beside me, the whispering grasses, the trembling wild-flowers, the rustling forests, the lake with its ripples, the green hills and solemn snow-mountains beyond--all seemed to take up the chorus. there is a wonderful, invigorating influence about ulrich zwingle, with whom i have spent many days lately. it seems as if the fresh air of the mountains among which he passed his youth were always around him. in his presence it is impossible to despond. while luther remains immovably holding every step of ground he has taken, zwingle presses on, and surprises the enemy asleep in his strongholds. luther carries on the war like the landsknechts, our own firm and impenetrable infantry; zwingle, like his own impetuous mountaineers, sweeps down from the heights upon the foe. in switzerland i and my books have met with more sudden and violent varieties of reception than anywhere else; the people are so free and unrestrained. in some villages, the chief men, or the priest himself, summoned all the inhabitants by the church bell, to hear all i had to tell about dr. luther and his work, and to buy his books; my stay was one constant _fête_, and the warm-hearted peasants accompanied me miles on my way, discoursing of zwingle and luther, the broken yoke of rome, and the glorious days of freedom that were coming. the names of luther and zwingle were on every lip, like those of tell and winkelried and the heroes of the old struggle of swiss liberation. in other villages, on the contrary, the peasants gathered angrily around me, reviled me as a spy and an intruding foreigner, and drove me with stones and rough jests from among them, threatening that i should not escape so easily another time. in some places they have advanced much further than among us in germany. the images have been removed from the churches, and the service is read in the language of the people. but the great joy is to see that the light has not been spread only from torch to torch, as human illumination spread, but has burst at once on germany, france, and switzerland, as heavenly light dawns from above. it is this which makes it not an illumination merely, but morning and spring! lefevre in france and zwingle in switzerland both passed through their period of storms and darkness, and both, awakened by the heavenly light to the new world, found that it was no solitude--that others also were awake, and that the day's work had begun, as it should, with matin songs. now i am tending northwards once more. i intend to renew my stores at my father's press at wittemberg. my heart yearns also for news of all dear to me there. perhaps, too, i may yet see dr. luther, and find scope for preaching the evangelical doctrine among my own people. for better reports have come to us from germany and we believe dr. luther is in friendly keeping, though where, is still a mystery. the prison of a dominican convent, franconia, _august_. all is changed for me. once more prison walls are around me, and through prison bars i look out on the world i may not re-enter. i counted this among the costs when i resolved to give myself up to spreading far and wide the glad tidings of redemption. it was worth the cost; it is worth whatever man can inflict--for i trust that those days have not been spent in vain. yesterday evening, as the day was sinking, i found my way once more to the parsonage of priest ruprecht in the franconian village. the door was open, but i heard no voices. there was a neglected look about the little garden. the vine was hanging untwined around the porch. the little dwelling, which had been so neat, had a dreary, neglected air. dust lay thick on the chairs, and the remains of the last meal were left on the table. and yet it was evidently not unoccupied. a book lay upon the window-sill, evidently lately read. it was the copy of luther's german commentary on the lord's prayer which i had left that evening many months ago in the porch. i sat down on a window seat, and in a little while i saw the priest coming slowly up the garden. his form was much bent since i saw him last. he did not look up as he approached the house. it seemed as if he expected no welcome. but when i went out to meet him, he grasped my hand cordially, and his face brightened. when, however, he glanced at the book in my hand, a deeper shade passed over his brow; and, motioning me to a chair, he sat down opposite me without speaking. after a few minutes he looked up, and said in a husky voice, "that book did what all the denunciations and terrors of the old doctrines could not do. it separated us. she has left me." he paused for some minutes, and then continued,--"the evening that she found that book in the porch, when i returned i found her reading it. 'see!' she said, 'at last some one has written a religious book for me! it was left here open, in the porch, at these words: "if thou dost feel that in the sight of god and all creatures thou art a fool, a sinner, impure, and condemned, ... there remaineth no solace for thee, and no salvation, unless in jesus christ. to know him is to understand what the apostle says,--'christ has of god been made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.' he is the bread of god--our bread, given to us as children of the heavenly father. to believe is nothing else than to eat this bread from heaven." and look again. the book says, "it touches god's heart when we call him father,"--and again, "_which art in heaven._" "he that acknowledges he has a father who is in heaven, owns that he is like an orphan on the earth. hence his heart feels an ardent longing, like a child living away from its father's country, amongst strangers, wretched and forlorn. it is as if he said, "alas! my father, thou art in heaven, and i, thy miserable child, am on earth, far from thee amid danger, necessity, and sorrow." 'ah, ruprecht,' she said, her eyes streaming with tears, 'that is so like what i feel,--so lost, and orphaned, and far away from home.' and then, fearing she had grieved me, she added, 'not that i am neglected. thou knowest i could never feel that. but oh, can it be possible that god would take me back, not after long years of penance, but _now_, and _here_, to his very heart?" "i could say little to teach her, but from that time this book was her constant companion. she begged me to find out all the passages in my latin gospels which speak of jesus suffering for sinners, and of god as the father. i was amazed to see how many there were. the book seemed full of them. and so we went on for some days, until one evening she came to me, and said, 'ruprecht, if god is indeed so infinitely kind and good, and has so loved us, we must obey him, must we not?' i could not for the world say no, and i had not the courage to say yes, for i knew what she meant." again he paused. "i knew too well what she meant, when, on the next morning, i found the breakfast laid, and everything swept and prepared as usual, and on the table, in printed letters on a scrap of paper, which she must have copied from the book, for she could not write, 'farewell. we shall be able to pray for each other now. and god will be with us, and will give us to meet hereafter, without fear of grieving him, in our father's house." "do you know where she is?" i asked. "she has taken service in a farm-house several miles away in the forest," he replied. "i have seen her once. she looked very thin and worn. but she did not see me." the thought which had so often suggested itself to me before, came with irresistible force into my mind then,--"if those vows of celibacy are contrary to the will of god, can they be binding?" but i did not venture to suggest them to my host. i only said, "let us pray that god will lead you both. the heart can bear many a heavy burden if the conscience is free!" "true," he said. and together we knelt down, whilst i spoke to god. and the burden of our prayer was neither more nor less than this, "our father which art in heaven, not our will, but thine be done." on the morrow i bade him farewell, leaving him several other works of luther's. and i determined not to lose an hour in seeking melancthon and the doctors of wittemberg, and placing this case before them. and now, perhaps, i shall never see wittemberg again! it is not often that i have ventured into the monasteries, but to-day a young monk, who was walking in the meadows of this abbey, seemed so interested in my books, that i followed him to the convent, where he thought i should dispose of many copies. instead of this, however, whilst i was waiting in the porch for him to return, i heard the sound of angry voices in discussion inside, and before i could perceive what it meant, three or four monks came to me, seized my pack, bound my hands, and dragged me to the convent prison, where i now am. "it is time that this pestilence should be checked," said one of them. "be thankful if your fate is not the same as that of your poisonous books, which are this evening to make a bonfire in the court." and with these words i was left alone in this low, damp, dark cell, with its one little slit high in the wall, which, until my eyes grew accustomed to it, seemed only to admit just light enough to show the iron fetters hanging from the walls. but what power can make me a captive while i can sing:-- mortis portis practis, fortis fortior vim sustulit; et per crucem regem trucem, infernorum perculit. lumen clarum tenebrarum sedibus resplenduit; dum salvare, recreare quod creavit, voluit. hinc creator, ne peccator, moreretur, moritur; cujus morte, nova sorte, vita nobis oritur.[ ] [footnote : lo, the gates of death are broken, and the strong man armed is spoiled, of his armour, which he trusted, by the stronger arm despoiled. vanquished is the prince of hell; smitten by the cross, he fell. that the sinner might not perish, for him the creator dies; by whose death, our dark lot changing, life again for us doth rise,] are not countless hearts now singing this resurrection hymn, to some of whom my hands brought the joyful tidings? in the lonely parsonage, in the forest and farm, hearts set free by love from the fetters of sin--in village and city, in mountain and plain! and at wittemberg, in happy homes, and in the convent, are not my beloved singing it too? _september_. yet the time seems long to lie in inaction here. with these tidings, "the lord is risen," echoing through her heart, would it not have been hard for the magdalene to be arrested on her way to the bereaved disciples before she could tell it? _october_. i have a hope of escape. in a corner of my prison i discovered, some days since, the top of an arch, which i believe must belong to a blocked-up door. by slow degrees--working by night, and covering over my work by day--i have dug out a flight of steps which led to it. this morning i succeeded in dislodging one of the stones with which the door-way had been roughly filled up, and through the space surveyed the ground outside. it was a portion of a meadow, sloping to the stream which turned the abbey mills. this morning two of the monks came to summon me to an examination before the prior, as to my heresies; but to-night i hope to dislodge the few more stones, and this very night, before morning dawn, to be treading with free step the forest covered hills beyond the valley. my limbs feel feeble with insufficient food, and the damp, close air of the cell; and the blood flows with feverish, uncertain rapidity through my veins; but, doubtless, a few hours on the fresh, breezy hills will set all this right. and yet once more i shall see my mother, and elsè, and thekla, and little gretchen, and all--all but one, who, i fear, is still imprisoned in convent walls. yet once more i trust to go throughout the land spreading the joyful tidings.--"the lord is risen indeed;" the work of redemption is accomplished, and he who once lived and suffered on earth, compassionate to heal, now lives and reigns in heaven, mighty to save. xx. thekla's story. tunnenberg, _may_, is the world really the same? was there really ever a spring like this, when the tide of life seems overflowing and bubbling up in leaf-buds, flowers, and song, and streams? it cannot be _only_ that god has given me the great blessing of bertrand de crèqui's love, and that life opens in such bright fields of hope and work before us two; or that this is the first spring i ever spent in the country. it seems to me that god is really pouring a tide of fresh life throughout the world. fritz has escaped from the prison at maintz, and he writes as if he felt this an easter-tide for all men. in all places, he says, the hearts of men are opening to the glad tidings of the redeeming love of god. can it be, however, that every may is such a festival among the woods, and that this solemn old forest holds such fairy holiday every year, garlanding its bare branches and strewing every brown nook which a sunbeam can reach, with showers of flowers, such as we strew on a bride's path? and then, who could have imagined that those grave old firs and stately birches could become the cradles of all these delicate-tufted blossoms and tenderly-folded leaflets, bursting on all sides from their gummy casings? and--joy of all joys!--it is not unconscious vegetable life only which thus expands around us. it is god touching every branch and hidden root, and waking them to beauty! it is not sunshine merely, and soft breezes; it is our father smiling on his works, and making the world fresh and fair for his children,--it is the healing touch and the gracious voice we have learned to know. "we are in the world, and the world was made by thee;" "_te deum laudamus_: we acknowledge thee, o saviour, to be the lord." our chriemhild certainly has a beautiful home. bertrand's home, also, is a castle in the country, in flanders. but he says their country is not like this forest-land. it has long been cleared by industrious hands. there are long stately avenues leading to his father's chateau; but all around, the land is level, and waving with grass and green or golden corn-fields. that, also, must be beautiful. but probably the home he has gone to prepare for me may not be there. some of his family are very bitter against what they call his lutheran heresy, and although he is the heir, it is very possible that the branch of the family which adheres to the old religion may wrest the inheritance from him. that, we think, matters little. god will find the right place for us, and lead us to it, if we ask him. and if it be in the town, after all, the tide of life in human hearts is nobler than that in trees and flowers. in a few months we shall know. perhaps he may return here, and become a professor at wittemberg, whither dr. luther's name brought him a year since to study. _june_, . a rumour has reached us, that dr. luther has disappeared on his way back from worms. this spring, in the world as well as in the forest, will doubtless have its storms. last night, the thunder echoed from hill to hill, and the wind wailed wildly among the pines. looking out of my narrow window in the tower on the edge of the rock, where i sleep, it was awful to see the foaming torrent below gleaming in the lightning-flashes, which opened out sudden glimpses into the depths of the forest, leaving it doubly mysterious. i thought of fritz's lonely night, when he lost himself in the forest; and thanked god that i had learned to know the thunder as his voice, and his voice as speaking peace and pardon. only, at such times i should like to gather all dear to me around me; and those dearest to me are scattered far and wide. the old knight ulrich is rather impetuous and hot-tempered; and his sister, ulrich's aunt, dame hermentrud, is grave and stately. fortunately, they both look on chriemhild as a wonder of beauty and goodness; but i have to be rather careful. dame hermentrud is apt to attribute any over-vehemence of mine in debate to the burgher cotta-blood; and although they both listen with interest to ulrich or chriemhild's version of dr. luther's doctrines, dame hermentrud frequently warns me against unfeminine exaggeration or eagerness in these matters, and reminds me that the ancestors of the gersdorf family were devout and excellent people long before a son was born to hans luther the miner. the state of the peasants distresses chriemhild and me extremely. she and ulrich were full of plans for their good when they came here to live; but she is at present almost exclusively occupied with the education of a little knightly creature, who came into the world two months since, and is believed to concentrate in his single little person all the ancestral virtues of all the gersdorfs, to say nothing of the schönbergs. he has not, dame hermantrud asserts, the slightest feature of resemblance to the cottas. i cannot, certainly, deny that he bears unmistakable traces of that aristocratic temper and that lofty taste for ruling which at times distinguished my grandmother, and, doubtless, all the gersdorfs from the days of adam downward, or at least from the time of babel. beyond that, i believe, few pedigrees are traced, except in a general way to the sons of noah. but it is a great honour for me to be connected, even in the humblest manner, with such a distinguished little being. in time, i am not without hopes that it will introduce a little reflex nobility even into my burgher nature: and meantime chriemhild and i secretly trace remarkable resemblances in the dear baby features to our grandmother, and even to our beloved, sanguine, blind father. it is certainly a great consolation that our father chose our names from the poems and the stars and the calendar of aristocratic saints, instead of from the lowly cotta pedigree. ulrich has not indeed by any means abandoned his scheme of usefulness among the peasantry who live on his uncle's estates. but he finds more opposition than he expected. the old knight, although ready enough to listen to any denunciations of the self-indulgent priests and lazy monks (especially those of the abbey whose hunting-grounds adjoin his own), is very averse to making the smallest change in anything. he says the boors are difficult enough to keep in order as it is; that if they are taught to think for themselves, there will be no safety for the game, or for anything else. they will be quoting the bible in all kinds of wrong senses against their rightful lords, and will perhaps even take to debating the justice of the hereditary feuds, and refuse to follow their knight's banner to the field. as to religion, he is quite sure that the ave and the pater are as much as will be expected of them; whilst dame hermentrud has most serious doubts of this new plan of writing books and reading prayers in the language of the common people. they will be thinking themselves as wise as the priests, and perhaps wiser than their masters. but ulrich's chief disappointment is with the peasants themselves. they seem as little anxious for improvement as the lords are for them, and are certainly suspicious to a most irritating degree of any schemes for their welfare issuing from the castle. as to their children being taught to read, they consider it an invasion of their rights, and murmur that if they follow the nobles in hunt and foray, and till their fields, and go to mass on sunday, the rest of their time is their own, and it is an usurpation in priest or knight to demand more. it will, i fear, be long before the dry, barren crust of their dull hard life is broken; and yet the words of life are for them as much as for us! and one great difficulty seems to me, that if they were taught to read, there are so few german religious books. except a few tracts of dr. luther's, what is there that they could understand? if some one would only translate the record of the words and acts of our lord and his apostles, it would be worth while then teaching every one to read. and if we could only get them to confide in us! there must be thought, and we know there is affection underneath all this reserve. it is a heavy heritage for the long ancestry of the gersdorfs to have bequeathed to this generation, these recollections of tyranny and this mutual distrust. yet ulrich says it is too common throughout the land. many of the old privileges of the nobles were so terribly oppressive in hard or careless hands. the most promising field at present seems to be among the household retainers. among these there is strong personal attachment; and the memory of ulrich's pious mother seems to have left behind it that faith in goodness which is one of the most precious legacies of holy lives. even the peasants in the village speak lovingly of her; of the medicine she used to distil from the forest-herbs, and distribute with her own hands to the sick. there is a tradition also in the castle of a bright maiden called beatrice who used to visit the cottage homes, and bring sunshine whenever she came. but she disappeared years ago, they say; and the old family nurse shakes her head as she tells me how the lady beatrice's heart was broken, when she was separated by family feuds from her betrothed, and after that she went to the convent at nimptschen, and has been dead to the world ever since. nimptschen! that is the living grave where our precious eva is buried. and yet where she is i am sure it can be no grave of death. she will bring life and blessings with her. i will write to her, especially about this poor blighted beatrice. altogether the peasants seem much less suspicious of the women of the gersdorf family than of the men. they will often listen attentively even to me. and when chriemhild can go among them a little more, i hope better days will dawn. _august_, . this morning we had a strange encounter. some days since we received a mysterious intimation from wittemberg, that dr. luther is alive and in friendly keeping, not far from us. to-day ulrich and i were riding through the forest to visit an outlying farm of the gersdorfs in the direction of eisenach, when we heard across a valley the huntsman's horn, with the cry of the dogs in full chase. in a few moments an opening among the trees brought us in sight of the hunt sweeping towards us up the opposite slopes of the valley. apart from the hunt, and nearer us, at a narrow part of the valley, we observed a figure in the cap and plumes of a knight, apparently watching the chase as we were. as we were looking at him, a poor bewildered leveret flew towards him, and cowered close to his feet. he stooped, and gently taking it up, folded it in the long sleeve of his tunic, and stepped quickly aside. in another minute, however, the hunt swept up towards him, and the dogs scenting the leveret, seized on it in its refuge, dragged it down, and killed it. this unusual little incident, this human being putting himself on the side of the pursued, instead of among the pursuers, excited our attention. there was also something is the firm figure and sturdy gait that perplexingly reminded us of some one we knew. our road lay across the valley, and ulrich rode aside to greet the strange knight. in a moment he returned to me, and whispered,-- "it is martin luther!" we could not resist the impulse to look once more on the kind honest face, and riding close to him we bowed to him. he gave us a smile of recognition, and laying his hand on ulrich's saddle said, softly, "the chase is a mystery of higher things. see how, as these ferocious dogs seized my poor leveret from its refuge, satan rages against souls, and seeks to tear from their hiding-place even those already saved. but the arm which holds them is stronger than mine. i have had enough of this kind of chase," he added; "sweeter to me the chase of the bears, wolves, boars, and foxes which lay waste the church, than that of these harmless creatures. and of such rapacious beasts there are enough in the world." my heart was full of the poor peasants i had been seeing lately. i never could feel afraid of dr. luther, and this opportunity was too precious to be thrown away. it always seemed the most natural thing in the world to open one's heart to him. he understood so quickly and so fully. as he was wishing us good-bye, therefore, i said (i am afraid, in that abrupt blundering way of mine),-- "dear dr. luther, the poor peasants here are so ignorant! and i have scarcely anything to read to them which they can understand. tell some one, i entreat you, to translate the gospels into german for them; such german as your 'discourse on the magnificat,' or 'the lord's prayer,' for they all understand that." he smiled, and said, kindly,-- "it is being done, my child. i am trying in my patmos tower once more to unveil the revelation to the common people; and, doubtless, they will hear it gladly. that book alone is the sun from which all true teachers draw their light. would that it were in the language of every man, held in every hand, read by every eye, listened to by every ear, treasured up in every heart. and it will be yet, i trust." he began to move away, but as we looked reverently after him he turned to us again, and said, "remember the wilderness was the scene of the temptation. pray for me, that in the solitude of my wilderness i may be delivered from the tempter." and waving his hand, in a few minutes he was out of sight. we thought it would be an intrusion to follow him, or to inquire where he was concealed. but as the hunt passed away, ulrich recognized one of the huntsmen as a retainer of the elector frederick at his castle of the wartburg. and now when every night and morning in my prayers i add, as usual, the name of dr. luther to those of my mother and father and all dear to me, i think of him passing long days and nights alone in that grim castle, looking down on the dear old eisenach valley, and i say, "lord, make the wilderness to him the school for his ministry to all our land." for was not our saviour himself led first into the wilderness, to overcome the tempter in solitude, before he came forth to teach, and heal, and cast out devils? _october_. ulrich has seen dr. luther again. he was walking in the forest near the wartburg, and looked very ill and sad. his heart was heavy on account of the disorders in the church, the falsehood and bitterness of the enemies of the gospel, and the impetuosity or lukewarmness of too many of its friends. he said it would almost have been better if they had left him to die by the hands of his enemies. his blood might have cried to god for deliverance. he was ready to yield himself to them as an ox to the yoke. he would rather be burned on live coals, than sleep away the precious years thus, half alive, in sloth and ease. and yet, from what ulrich gathered further from him of his daily life, his "sloth and ease" would seem arduous toil to most men. he saw the room where dr. luther lives and labours day and night, writing letters of consolation to his friends, and masterly replies, they say, to the assailants of the truth, and (better than all) translating the bible from hebrew and greek into german. the room has a large window commanding many reaches of the forest; and he showed ulrich the rookery in the tops of the trees below, whence he learned lessons in politics from the grave consultations of the rooks who hold their diet there; he also spoke to him of the various creatures in rock and forest which soothed his solitude, the birds singing among the branches, the berries, wild flowers, and the clouds and stars. but he alluded also to fearful conflicts, visible and audible appearances of the evil one; and his health seemed much shattered. we fear that noble loving heart is wearing itself out in the lonely fortress. he seems chafing like a war-horse at the echo of the distant battle; or a hunter at the sound of the chase; or, rather, as a captive general who sees his troops, assailed by force and stratagem, broken and scattered, and cannot break his chains to rally and to lead them on. yet he spoke most gratefully of his hospitable treatment in the castle; said he was living like a prince or a cardinal; and deprecated the thought that the good cause would not prosper without his presence. "i cannot be with them in death," he said, "nor they with me! each must fight that last fight, go through that passion alone. and only those will overcome who have learned how to win the victory before, and grounded deep in the heart that word, which is the great power against sin and the devil, that christ has died for each one of us, and has overcome satan for ever." he said also that if melancthon lived it mattered little to the church what happened to him. the spirit of elijah came in double power on elisha. and he gave ulrich two or three precious fragments of his translation of the gospels, for me to read to the peasants. _november_. i have gone with my precious bits of the german bible that is to be into many a cottage during this month,--simple narratives of poor, leprous, and palsied people, who came to the lord, and he touched them and healed their diseases; and of sinners whom he forgave. it is wonderful how the simple people seem to drink them in; that is, those who care at all for such things. "is this indeed what the lord christ is like?" they say; "then, surely, we may speak to him in our own words, and ask just what we want, as those poor men and women did of old. is it true, indeed, that peasants, women, and sick people could come straight to the lord himself? was he not always kept off from common people by a band of priests and saints? was he indeed to be spoken to by all, and he such a great lord?" i said that i thought it was the necessity of human princes, and not their glory, to be obliged to employ deputies, and not let each one plead his own case. they look greatest afar off, surrounded by the pomp of a throne, because in themselves they are weak and sinful, like other men. but he needed no pomp, nor the dignity of distance, because he is not like other men, but sinless and divine, and the glory is in himself, not in the things around him. then i had a narrative of the crucifixion to read; and many a tear have i seen stream over rough cheeks, and many a smile beam in dim aged eyes as i read this. "we seem to understand it all at once," an old woman said; "and yet there always seems something more in it each time." _december_. this morning i had a letter from bertrand,--the first for many weeks. he is full of hope; not, indeed, of recovering his inheritance, but of being at wittemberg again in a few weeks. i suppose my face looked very bright when i received it and ran with the precious letter to my own room; for dame hermentrud said much this evening about receiving everything with moderation, and about the propriety of young maidens having a very still and collected demeanour, and about the uncertainty of all things below. my heavenly father knows i do not forget that all things are uncertain; although, often, i dare not dwell on it. but he has given me this good gift--he himself--and i will thank him with an overflowing heart for it! i cannot understand dame hermentrud's religion. she seems to think it prudent, and a duty, to take everything god gives coolly, as if we did not care very much about it, lest he should think he had given us something too good for us, and grudge it to us, and take it away again. no; if god does take away, he takes away as he gave, in infinite love; and i would not for the world add darkness to the dark days, if they must come, by the bitter regret that i did not enjoy the sunshine whilst he gave it. for, indeed, i cannot help fearing sometimes, when i think of the martyrs of old, and the bitterness of the enemies of the good tidings now. but then i try to look up, and try to say, "safer, o father, in thy hands than in mine." and all the comfort of the prayer depends on how i can comprehend and feel that name, "father!" xxi. eva's story. cistercian convent, nimptschen, _september_ , . they have sent me several sheets of dr. luther's translation of the new testament, from uncle cotta's press at wittemberg. of all the works he ever did for god, this seems to me the mightiest and the best. none has ever so deeply stirred our convent. many of the sisters positively refuse to join in any invocation of the saints. they declare that it must be satan himself who has kept this glorious book locked up in a dead language out of reach of women and children and the common people. and the young nuns say it is so interesting, it is not in the least like a book of sermons, or a religious treatise. "it is like every-day life," said one of them to me, "with what every one wants brought into it; a perfect friend, so infinitely good, so near, and so completely understanding our inmost hearts. ah, sister eva," she added, "if they could only hear of this at home!" _october_. to-day we have received a copy of dr. luther's thesis against the monastic life. "there is but one only spiritual estate," he writes, "which is holy and makes holy, and that is christianity,--the faith which is the common right of all." "monastic institutions," he continues, "to be of any use ought to be schools, in which children may be brought up until they are adults. but as it is, they are houses in which men and women become children, and ever continue childish." too well, alas! i know the truth of these last words; the hopeless, childish occupation with trifles, into which the majority of the nuns sink when the freshness of youth and the bitter conflict of separation from all dear to the heart has subsided, and the great incidents of life have become the decorating the church for a festival, or the pomp attending the visit of an inspector or bishop. it is against this i have striven. it is this i dread for the young sisters; to see them sink into contented trifling with religious playthings. and i have been able to see no way of escape, unless, indeed, we could be transferred to some city and devote ourselves to the case of the sick and poor. dr. luther, however, admits of another solution. we hear that he has counselled the prior of the monastery at erfurt to suffer any monks who wish it freely to depart. and many, we have been told, in various monasteries, have already left, and returned to serve god in the world. monks can, indeed, do this. the world is open before them, and in some way they are sure to find occupation. but with us it is different. torn away from our natural homes, the whole world around us is a trackless desert. yet how can i dare to say this? since the whole world is the work of our heavenly father's hands, and may be the way to our father's house, will not he surely find a place for each of us in it, and a path for us through it? _november_ . nine of the younger nuns have come to the determination, if possible, to give up the conventual life, with its round of superstitious observances. this evening we held a consultation in sister beatrice's cell. aunt agnes joined us. it was decided that each should write to her relatives, simply confessing that she believed the monastic vows and life to be contrary to the holy scriptures, and praying to be received back into her family. sister beatrice and aunt agnes decided to remain patiently where they were. "my old home would be no more a home to me now than the convent," sister beatrice said. "there is liberty for me to die here, and an open way for my spirit to return to god." and aunt agnes said,-- "who knows but that there may be some lowly work left for me to do here yet! in the world i should be as helpless as a child, and why should i return to be a burden on my kindred." they both urged me to write to elsè or aunt cotta to receive me. but i can scarcely think it my duty. aunt cotta has her children around her. elsè's home is strange to me. besides, kind as every one has been to me, i am as a stray waif on the current of this world, and have no home in it. i think god has enabled me to cheer and help some few here, and while aunt agnes and sister beatrice remain, i cannot bear the thought of leaving. at all events i will wait. _november_ . fritz is in prison again. for many weeks they had heard nothing from him, and were wondering where he was, when a letter came from a priest called ruprect haller, in franconia. he says fritz came to his house one evening in july, remained the night, left next morning with his pack of lutheran books, intending to proceed direct to wittemberg, and gave him the address of aunt cotta there. but a few weeks afterwards a young monk met him near the dominican convent, and asked if he were the priest at whose house a pedlar had spent a night a few weeks before. the priest admitted it; whereon the young monk said to him, in a low, hurried accent,-- "write to his friends, if you know them, and say he is in the prison of the convent, under strong suspicion of heresy. i am the young monk to whom he gave a book on the evening he came. tell them i did not intend to betray him, although i led him into the net; and if ever they should procure his escape, and you see him again, tell him i have kept his book." the good priest says something also about fritz having been his salvation. and he urges that the most strenuous exertions should be made to liberate him, and any powerful friends we have should be entreated to intercede, because the prior of the dominican convent where he is imprisoned is a man of the severest temper, and a mighty hater of heretics. powerful friends! i know none whom we can entreat but god. it was in july, then, that he was captured, two months since. i wonder if it is only my impatient spirit! but i feel as if i _must_ go to aunt cotta. i have a feeling she will want me now. i think i might comfort her; for who can tell what two months in a dominican prison may have done for him? in our convent have we not a prison, low, dark, and damp enough to weigh the life out of any one in six weeks! from one of the massive low pillars hang heavy iron fetters, happily rusted now from disuse; and in a corner are a rack and other terrible instruments, now thrown aside there, on which some of the older nuns say they have seen stains of blood. when he was in prison before at mainz, i did not seem so desponding about his deliverance as i feel now. are these fears god's merciful preparations for some dreadful tidings about to reach us? or are they the mere natural enfeebling of the power to hope as one grows older? _december_, . many disappointments have fallen on us during the last fortnight. answer after answer has come to those touching entreaties of the nine sisters to their kindred, in various tones of feeling, but all positively refusing to receive them back to their homes. some of the relatives use the bitterest reproaches and the severest menaces. others write tenderly and compassionately, but all agree that no noble family can possibly bring on itself the disgrace of aiding a professed nun to break her vows. poor children! my heart aches for them, some of them are so young, and were so confident of being welcomed back with open arms, remembering the tears with which they were given up. now indeed they are thrown on god. he will not fail them; but who can say what thorny paths their feet may have to tread? it has also been discovered here that some of them have written thus to their relations, which renders their position far more difficult and painful. many of the older nuns are most indignant at what they consider an act of the basest treachery and sacrilege. i also am forbidden to have any more intercourse with the suspected sisters. search has been made in every cell, and all the lutheran books have been seized, whilst the strictest attendance is required at all the services. _february_ , . sister beatrice is dead, after a brief illness. the gentle, patient spirit is at rest. it seems difficult to think of joy associated with that subdued and timid heart, even in heaven. i can only think of her as _at rest_. one night after she died i had a dream, in which i seemed to see her entering into heaven. robed and veiled in white, i saw her slowly ascending the way to the gates of the city. her head and her eyes were cast on the ground, and she did not seem to dare to look up at the pearly gates, even to see if they were open or closed. but two angels, the gentlest spirits in heaven, came out and met her, and each taking one of her hands, led her silently inside, like a penitent child. and as she entered, the harps and songs within seemed to be hushed to music soft as the dreamy murmur of a summer noon. still she did not look up, but passed through the golden streets with her hands trustingly folded in the hands of the angels, until she stood before the throne. then from the throne came a voice, which said, "beatrice, it is i; be not afraid." and when she heard that voice, a quiet smile beamed over her face like a glory, and for the first time she raised her eyes; and sinking at his feet, murmured, "home!" and it seemed to me as if that one word from the low, trembling voice vibrated through every harp in heaven; and from countless voices, ringing as happy children's, and tender as a mother's, came back, in a tide of love and music, the word, "welcome home." this was only a dream; but it is no dream that she is there! she said little in her illness. she did not suffer much. the feeble frame made little resistance to the low fever which attacked her. the words she spoke were mostly expressions of thankfulness for little services, or entreaties for forgiveness for any little pain she fancied she might have given. aunt agnes and i chiefly waited on her. she was uneasy if we were long away from her. her thoughts often recurred to her girlhood in the old castle in the thuringian forest; and she liked to hear me speak of chriemhild and ulrich, and their infant boy. one evening she called me to her, and said, "tell my sister hermentrud, and my brother, i am sure they all meant kindly in sending me here; and it has been a good place for me, especially since you came. but tell chriemhild and ulrich," she added, "if they have daughters, to remember plighted troth is a sacred thing, and let it not be lightly severed. not that the sorrow has been evil for me; only i would not have another suffer. all, all has been good for me, and i so unworthy of all!" then passing her thin hands over my head as i knelt beside her, she said, "eva, you have been like a mother, a sister, a child,--everything to me. go back to your old home when i am gone. i like to think you will be there." then, as if fearing she might have been ungrateful to aunt agnes, she asked for her, and said, "i can never thank you enough for all you have done for me. the blessed lord will remember it; for did he not say, 'in that ye have done it unto the _least_.'" and in the night, as i sat by her alone, she said, "eva, i have dreaded very much to die. i am so very weak in spirit, and dread everything. but i think god must make it easier for the feeble such as me. for although i do not feel any stronger i am not afraid now. it must be because he is holding me up." she then asked me to sing; and with a faltering voice i sung, as well as i could, the hymn, _astant angelorum chori:_-- high the angel-choirs are raising heart and voice in harmony: the creator king still praising, whom in beauty there they see! sweetest strains from soft harps stealing, trumpet notes of triumph pealing; radiant wings and white robes gleaming, up the steps of glory streaming, where the heavenly bells are ringing, holy, holy, holy, singing to the mighty trinity! for all earthly care and sighing in that city cease to be! and two days after, in the grey of the autumn morning, she died. she fell asleep with the name of jesus on her lips. it is strange how silent and empty the convent seems, only because that feeble voice is hushed and that poor shadowy form has passed away! _february_, . sister beatrice has been laid in the convent church-yard with solemn mournful dirges and masses, and stately ceremonies, which seemed to me little in harmony with her timid, shrinking nature, or with the peace her spirit rests in now. the lowly mound in the church-yard, marked by no memorial but a wooden cross, accords better with her memory. the wind will rustle gently there next summer, through the grass; and this winter the robin will warble quietly in the old elm above. but i shall never see the grass clothe that earthly mound. it is decided that i am to leave the convent this week. aunt agnes and two of the young sisters have just left my cell, and all is planned. the persecutions against those they call the lutheran sisters increase continually, whilst severer and more open proceedings are threatened. it is therefore decided that i am to make my escape at the first favourable opportunity, find my way to wittemberg, and then lay the case of the nine nuns before the lutheran doctors, and endeavour to provide for their rescue. _february_ , . at last the peasant's dress in which i am to escape is in my cell, and this very night, when all is quiet, i am to creep out of the window of katherine von bora's cell, into the convent garden. aunt agnes has been nervously eager about my going, and has been busy secretly storing a little basket with provisions. but to-night, when i went into her cell to wish her good-bye, she quite broke down, and held me tight in her arms, as if she could never let me go, while her lips quivered, and tears rolled slowly over her thin furrowed cheeks. "eva, child," she said, "who first taught me to love in spite of myself, and then taught me that god is love, and that he could make me, believing in jesus, a happy, loving child again! how can i part with thee?" "thou wilt join me again," i said, "and your sister who loves thee so dearly!" she shook her head and smiled through her tears, as she said,-- "poor helpless old woman that i am, what would you all do with me in the busy life outside?" but her worst fear was for me, in my journey alone to wittemberg, which seemed to her, who for forty years had never passed the convent walls, so long and perilous. aunt agnes always thinks of me as a young girl, and imagines every one must think me beautiful, because love makes me so to her. she is sure they will take me for some princess in disguise. she forgets i am a quiet, sober-looking woman of seven-and-twenty, whom no one will wonder to see gravely plodding along the highway. but i almost made her promise to come to us at wittemberg; and at last she reproached herself with distrusting god, and said she ought never to have feared that his angels would watch over me. once more, then, the world opens before me; but i do not hope (and why should i wish?) that it should be more to me than this convent has been,--a place where god will be with me and give me some little loving services to do for him. but my heart does yearn to embrace dear aunt cotta and elsè once more, and little thekla. and when thekla marries, and aunt and uncle cotta are left alone, i think they may want me, and cousin eva may grow old among elsè's children, and all the grandchildren, helping one and another a little, and missed a little when god takes me. but chiefly i long to be near aunt cotta, now that fritz is in that terrible prison. she always said i comforted her more than any one, and i think i may again. xxii. elsè's story. _october_, . christopher has just returned from a journey to halle. they have dared once more to establish the sale of indulgences there, under the patronage of the young and self-indulgent archbishop albert of mainz. many of the students and the more thoughtful burghers are full of indignation at seeing the great red cross once more set up, and the heavenly pardons hawked through the streets for sale. this would not have been attempted, gottfried feels sure, had not the enemy believed that dr. luther's voice is silenced for ever. letters from him are, however, privately handed about among us here, and more than one of us know that he is in safe keeping not very far from us. _november_. gottfried has just brought me the letter from luther to the archbishop of mainz; which will at least convince the indulgence-mongers that they have roused the sleeping lion. he reminds the archbishop-elector that a conflagration has already been raised by the protest of one poor insignificant monk against tetzel; he warns him that the god who gave strength to that feeble human voice because its spoke his truth, "is living still, and will bring down the lofty cedars and the haughty pharoahs, and can easily humble an elector of mainz although there were four emperors supporting him." he solemnly requires him to put down that avaricious sale of lying pardons at mainz, or he will speedily publish a denunciation (which he has already written) against "the new school at halle." "for luther," he says, "is not dead yet." we are in great doubt how the archbishop will bear such a bold remonstrance. _november_ . the remonstrance has done its work. the prince archbishop has written a humble and apologetic letter to dr. luther, and the indulgences are once more banished from halle. at wittemberg, however, dr. luther's letters do not at all compensate for his absence. there is great confusion here, and not seldom there are encounters between the opposite parties in the streets. almost all the monks in the augustinian convent refused some weeks since to celebrate private masses or to adore the host. the gentle dr. melancthon and the other doctors at first remonstrated, but were at length themselves convinced, and appealed to the elector of saxony himself to abolish these idolatrous ceremonies. we do not yet know how he will act. no public alterations have yet been made in the church services. but the great event which is agitating wittemberg now is the abandonment of the cloister and the monastic life by thirteen of the augustinian monks. the pastor feldkirchen declared against priestly vows, and married some months since. but he was only a secular priest; and the opinions of all good men about the marriage of the priests of the parochial churches have long been undivided amongst us. concerning the monks, however, it is different. for the priests to marry is merely a change of state; for the monks to abandon their vows is the destruction of their order, and of the monastic life altogether. gottfried and i are fully persuaded they are right; and we honour greatly these men, who, disclaiming maintenance at other people's expense, are content to place themselves among the students at the university. more especially, however, i honour the older or less educated brethren, who, relinquishing the consideration and idle plenty of the cloister, set themselves to learn some humble trade. one of these has apprenticed himself to a carpenter; and as we passed his bench the other day, and watched him perseveringly trying to train his unaccustomed fingers to handle the tools, gottfried took off his cap and respectfully saluted him, saying,-- "yes, that is right. christianity must begin again with the carpenter's home at nazareth." in our family, however, opinions are divided. our dear, anxious mother perplexes herself much as to what it will all lead to. it is true that fritz's second imprisonment has greatly shaken her faith in the monks; but she is distressed at the unsettling tendencies of the age. to her it seems all destructive; and the only solution she can imagine for the difficulties of the times is, that these must be the latter days, and that when everything is pulled down, our lord himself will come speedily to build up his kingdom in the right way. deprived of the counsel of fritz and her beloved eva, and of dr. luther--in whom lately she had grown more to confide, although she always deprecates his impetuosity of language--she cannot make up her mind what to think about anything. she has an especial dread of the vehemence of the archdeacon carlstadt; and the mild melancthon is too much like herself in disposition for her to lean on his judgment. nevertheless, this morning, when i went to see them, i found her busily preparing some nourishing soup; which, when i asked her, she confessed was destined for the recusant monk who had become a carpenter. "poor creatures," she said apologetically, "they were accustomed to live well in the cloister, and i should not like them to feel the difference too suddenly." our grandmother is more than eighty now. her form is still erect, although she seldom moves from her arm-chair; and her faculties seem little dimmed, except that she cannot attend to anything for any length of time. sometimes i think old age to her is more like the tender days of early spring, than hard and frosty winter. thekla says it seems as if this life were dawning softly for her into a better; or as if god were keeping her, like moses, with undimmed eyes and strength unabated, till she may have the glimpse of the promised land, and see the deliverance she has so long waited for close at hand. with our children she is as great a favourite as she was with us; she seems to have forgotten her old ways of finding fault; either because she feels less responsibility about the third generation, or because she sees all their little faults through a mellowed light. i notice, too, that she has fallen on quite a different vein of stories from those which used to rivet us. she seems to pass over the legendary lore of her early womanhood, back to the experiences of her own stirring youth and childhood. the mysteries of our grandfather's history, which we vainly sought to penetrate, are all opened to gretchen and the boys. the saints and hermits, whose adventures were our delight, are succeeded by stories of secret hussite meetings to read the scriptures among the forests and mountains of bohemia; of wild retreats in caves, where whole families lived for months in concealment; of heart-rending captures or marvellous escapes. the heroes of my boys will be, not st. christopher and st. george, but hussite heretics! my dear mother often throws in a warning word to the boys, that those were evil times, and that people do not need to lead such wild lives now. but the text makes far more impression on the children than the commentary. our grandmother's own chief delight is still in dr. luther's writings. i have lately read over to her and my father, i know not how many times, his letter from the wartburg, "to the little band of christ at wittemberg," with his commentary accompanying it on the th psalm--"fret not thyself because of evildoers." our dear father is full of the brightest visions. he is persuaded that the whole world is being rapidly set right, and that it matters little, indeed, that his inventions could not be completed, since we are advancing at full speed into the golden age of humanity. thus, from very opposite points and through very different paths, he and my mother arrive at the same conclusion. we have heard from thekla that ulrich has visited dr. luther at the wartburg, where he is residing. i am so glad to know where he is. it is always so difficult to me to think of people without knowing the scene around them. the figure itself seems to become shadowy in the vague, shadowy, unknown world around it. it is this which adds to my distress about fritz. now i can think of dr. luther sitting in that large room in which i waited for the elector with my embroidery, so many years ago--looking down the steep over the folded hills, reaching one behind another till the black pines and the green waving branches fade into lovely blue beneath the golden horizon. and at sunset i seem to see how the shadows creep over the green valleys where we used to play, and the low sun lights up the red stems of the pines. or in the summer noon i see him sitting with his books--great folios, greek, and hebrew, and latin--toiling at that translation of the book of god, which is to be the blessing of all our people; while the warm sunbeams draw out the aromatic scent of the fir-woods, and the breezes bring it in at the open window. or at early morning i fancy him standing by the castle walls, looking down on the towers and distant roofs of eisenach, while the bell of the great convent booms up to him the hour; and he thinks of the busy life beginning in the streets, where once he begged for bread at aunt ursula cotta's door. dear aunt ursula, i wish she could have lived till now, to see the rich harvest an act of loving-kindness will sometimes bring forth. or at night, again, when all sounds are hushed except the murmur of the unseen stream in the valley below, and the sighing of the wind through the forest, and that great battle begins which he has to fight so often with the powers of darkness, and he tries to pray, and cannot lift his heart to god, i picture him opening his casement, and looking down on forest, rook, and meadow, lying dim and lifeless beneath him, glance from these up to god, and re-assure himself with the truth he delights to utter-- "_god lives still!_" feeling, as he gazes, that night is only hiding the sun, not quenching him, and watching till the grey of morning slowly steals up the sky and down into the forest. yes, dr. melancthon has told us how he toils and how he suffers at the wartburg, and how once he wrote, "are my friends forgetting to pray for me, that the conflict is so terrible?" no; gottfried remembers him always among our dearest names of kith and kindred. "but," he said to-day, "we must leave the training of our chief to god." poor, tried, perplexed saint elizabeth! another royal heart is suffering at the wartburg now, another saint is earning his crown through the cross at the old castle home; but not to be canonized in the papal calendar! _december_ . the chapter of the augustinian order in thuringia and misnia has met here within this last month, to consider the question of the irrevocable nature of monastic vows. they have come to the decision that in christ there is neither layman nor monk; that each is free to follow his conscience. _christmas day_, . this has been a great day with us. archdeacon carlstadt announced, some little time since, that he intended, on the approaching feast of the circumcision, to administer the holy sacrament to the laity under the two species of bread and wine. his right to do this having been disputed, he hastened the accomplishment of his purpose, lest it should be stopped by any prohibition from the court. to-day, after his sermon in the city church, in which he spoke of the necessity of replacing the idolatrous sacrifice of the mass by the holy supper, he went to the altar, and, after pronouncing the consecration of the elements in german, he turned towards the people, and said solemnly,-- "whosoever feels heavy laden with the burden of his sins, and hungers and thirsts for the grace of god, let him come and receive the body and blood of the lord." a brief silence followed his words, and then, to my amazement, before any one else stirred, i saw my timid, retiring mother slowly moving up the aisle, leading my father by the hand. others followed; some with reverent, solemn demeanour, others perhaps with a little haste and over-eagerness. and as the last had retired from the altar, the archdeacon, pronouncing the general absolution, added solemnly,-- "go, and sin no more." a few moments' pause succeeded, and then, from many voices here and there, gradually swelling to a full chorus, arose the agnus dei,-- "lamb of god, who takest away the sin of the world, have mercy on us. give us peace." we spent the christmas, as usual, in my father's house. wondering, as i did, at my mother's boldness, i did not like to speak to her on the subject; but, as we sat alone in the afternoon, while our dear father, gottfried, christopher and the children had gone to see the skating on the elbe, she said to me,-- "elsè, i could not help going. it seemed like the voice of our lord himself saying to me, '_thou_ art heavy laden-come!' i never understood it all as i do now. it seemed as if i _saw_ the gospel with my eyes,--saw that the redemption is finished, and that now the feast is spread. i forgot to question whether i repented, or believed, or loved enough. i saw through the ages the body broken and the blood shed for me on calvary; and now i saw the table spread, and heard the welcome, and i could not help taking your father's hand and going up at once." "yes, dear mother, you set the whole congregation the best example!" i said. "i!" she exclaimed. "do you mean that i went up before any one else? what! before all the holy men, and doctors, and the people in authority? elsè, my child, what have i done? but i did not think of myself, or of any one else. i only seemed to hear his voice calling me; and what could i do but go? and, indeed, i cannot care now how it looked! oh, elsè," she continued, "it is worth while to have the world thus agitated to restore this feast again to the church; worth while," she added with a trembling voice, "even to have fritz in prison for this. the blessed lord has sacrificed himself for us, and we are living in the festival. he died for sinners. he spread the feast for the hungry and thirsty. then those who feel their sins most must be not the last but the first to come. i see it all now. that holy sacrament is the gospel for me." _february_ , . the whole town is in commotion. men have appeared among us who say that they are directly inspired from heaven; that study is quite unnecessary--indeed, an idolatrous concession to the flesh and the letter; that it is wasting time and strength to translate the holy scriptures, since, without their understanding a word of greek or hebrew, god has revealed its meaning to their hearts. these men come from zwickau. two of them are cloth-weavers; and one is münzer, who was a priest. they also declare themselves to be prophets. nicholas storck, a weaver, their leader, has chosen twelve apostles and seventy-two disciples, in imitation of our lord. and one of them cried in awful tones, to-day through the streets,-- "woe, woe to the impious governers of christendom! within less then seven years the world shall be made desolate. the turk will overrun the land. no sinner shall remain alive. god will purify the earth by blood, and all the priests will be put to death. the saints will reign. the day of the lord is at hand. woe! woe!" opinions are divided throughout the university and the town about them. the elector himself says he would rather yield up his crown and go through the world a beggar than resist the voice of the lord. dr. melancthon hesitated, and says we must try the spirits whether they be of god. the archdeacon carlstadt is much impressed with them, and from his professorial chair even exhorts the students to abandon the vain pursuits of carnal wisdom, and to return to earn their bread, according to god's ordinance, in the sweat of their brow. the master of the boys' school called, from the open window of the school-room, to the citizens to take back their children. not a few of the students are dispersing, and others are in an excitable state, ready for any tumult. the images have been violently torn from one of the churches and burnt. the monks of the convent of the cordeliers have called the soldiers to their aid against a threatened attack. gottfried and others are persuaded that these men of zwickau are deluded enthusiasts. he says, "the spirit which undervalues the word of god cannot be the spirit of god." but among the firmest opponents of these new doctrines is, to our surprise, our charitable mother. her gentle, lowly spirit seems to shrink from them as with a heavenly instinct. she says, "the spirit of god humbles--does not puff up." when it was reported to us the other day that nicholas storck had seen the angel gabriel in the night, who flew towards him and said to him, "as for thee, thou shalt be seated on my throne!" the mother said,-- "it is new language to the angel gabriel, to speak of _his_ throne. the angels in old times used to speak of the throne of god." and when another said that it was time to sift the chaff from the wheat, and to form a church of none but saints, she said,-- "that would never suit me then. i must stay outside, in the church of redeemed sinners. and did not st. paul himself say, as dr. luther told us, 'sinners, of whom i am chief?'" "but are you not afraid," some one asked her, "of dishonouring god by denying his messengers, if, after all, these prophets should be sent from him?" "i think not," she replied quietly. "until the doctors are sure, i think i cannot displease my saviour by keeping to the old message." my father, however, is much excited about it; he sees no reason why there should not be prophets at wittemberg as well as at jerusalem; and in these wonderful days, he argues, what wonders can be too great to believe? i and many others long exceedingly for dr. luther. i believe, indeed, gottfried is right, but it would be terrible to make a mistake; and dr. luther always seems to see straight to the heart of a thing at once, and storms the citadel, while dr. melancthon is going round and round, studying each point of the fortifications. dr. luther never wavers in opinion in his letters, but warns us most forcibly against these delusions of satan. but then people say he has not seen or heard the "prophets." one letter can be discussed and answered long before another comes, and the living eye and voice are much in such a conflict as this. what chief could lead an army on to battle by letters? _february_ , . our dove of peace has come back to our home; our eva! this evening, when i went over with a message to my mother, to my amazement i saw her sitting with her hand in my father's, quietly reading to him the twenty-third psalm, while my grandmother sat listening, and my mother was contentedly knitting beside them. it seemed as if she had scarcely been absent a day, so quietly had she glided into her old place. it seemed so natural, and yet so like a dream, that the sense of wonder passed from me as it does in dreams, and i went up to her and kissed her forehead. "dear cousin elsè, is it you!" she said. "i intended to have come to you the first thing to-morrow." the dear, peaceful, musical voice, what a calm it shed over the home again! "you see you have all left aunt cotta," she said, with a slight tremulousness in her tone, "so i am come back to be with her always, if she will let me." there were never any protestations of affection between my mother and eva, they understand each other so completely. _february_ . yes, it is no dream. eva has left the convent, and is one of us once more. now that she has resumed all her old ways, i wonder more than ever how we could have got on without her. she speaks as quietly of her escape from the convent, and her lonely journey across the country, as if it were the easiest and most every-day occurrence. she says every one seemed anxious to help her and take care of her. she is very little changed. hers was not a face to change. the old guileless expression is on her lips--the same trustful, truthful light in her dark soft eyes; the calm, peaceful brow, that always reminded one of a sunny, cloudless sky, is calm and bright still; and around it the golden hair, not yet grown from its conventual cutting, clusters in little curls which remind me of her first days with us at eisenach. only all the character of the face seems deepened, i cannot say shadowed, but penetrated with that kind of look which i fancy must always distinguish the face of the saints above from those of the angels,--those who have suffered from those who have only sympathized; that deep, tender, patient, trusting, human look, which is stamped on those who have passed to the heavenly rapturous "_thy will be done_," through the agony of "_not my will, but thine_." at first gretchen met her with the kind of reverent face she has at church; and she asked me afterwards, "is that really the cousin eva in the picture?" but now there is the most familiar intimacy between them, and gretchen confidingly and elaborately expounds to cousin eva all her most secret plans and delights. the boys, also, have a most unusual value for her good opinion, and appear to think her judgment beyond that of ordinary women; for yesterday little fritz was eagerly explaining to her the virtues of a new bow that had been given him, formed in the english fashion. she is very anxious to set nine young nuns, who have embraced the lutheran doctrine, free from nimptschen. gottfried thinks it very difficult, but by no means impracticable in time. meanwhile, what a stormy world our dove has returned to!--the university well-nigh disorganized; the town in commotion; and no german bible yet in any one's hands, by which, as gottfried says, the claims of these new prophets might be tested. yet it does not seem to depress eva. she says it seems to her like coming out of the ark into a new world; and, no doubt, noah did not find everything laid out in order for him. she is quite on my mother's side about the prophets. she says, the apostles preached not themselves, but christ jesus the lord. if the zwickau prophets preach him, they preach nothing new; and if they preach themselves, neither god nor the angel gabriel gave them that message. our great sorrow is fritz's continued imprisonment. at first we felt sure he would escape, but every month lessens our hopes, until we scarcely dare speak of him except in our prayers. yet daily, together with his deliverance, gottfried and i pray for the return of dr. luther, and for the prosperous completion of his translation of the german bible, which gottfried believes will be the greatest boon dr. luther has given, or can ever give, to the german people, and through them to them christendom. _saturday_, _march_ , . the great warm heart is beating amongst us once more! dr. luther is once more dwelling quietly in the augustinian cloister, which he left for worms a year ago. what changes since then! he left us amid our tears and vain entreaties not to trust his precious life to the treacherous safe-conduct which had entrapped john huss to the stake. he returns unscathed and triumphant--the defender of the good cause before emperor, prelates, and princes--the hero of our german people. he left citizens and students for the most part trembling at the daring of his words and deeds. he returns to find students and burghers impetuously and blindly rushing on the track he opened, beyond his judgment and convictions. he left, the foremost in the attack, timidly followed as he hurried forward, braving death alone. he returns to recall the scattered forces, dispersed and divided in wild and impetuous pursuit. will, then, his voice be as powerful to recall and reorganize as it was to urge forward? he wrote to the elector, on his way from the wartburg, disclaiming his protection--declaring that he returned to the flock god had committed to him at wittemberg, called and constrained by god himself, and under mightier protection than that of an elector! "the sword," he said, "could not defend the truth. the mightiest are those whose faith is mightiest. relying on his master, christ, and on him alone, he came." gottfried says it is fancy, but already it seems to me i see a difference in the town--less bold, loud talking, than the day before yesterday; as in a family of eager, noisy boys, whose father is amongst them again. but after to-morrow, we shall be able to judge better. he is to preach in the city pulpit. _monday_, _march_ , . we have heard him preach once more. thank god, those days in the wilderness, as he called it, have surely not been lost days for dr. luther. as he stood again in the pulpit, many among the crowded congregation could not refrain from shedding tears of joy. in that familiar form and truthful, earnest face, we saw the man who had stood unmoved before the emperor and all the great ones of the empire--alone, upholding the truth of god. many of us saw, moreover, with even deeper emotion, the sufferer who, during those last ten months, had stood before an enemy more terrible than pope or emperor, in the solitude of the wartburg; and while his own heart and flesh were often well-nigh failing in the conflict, had never failed to carry on the struggle bravely and triumphantly for us his flock; sending masterly replies to the university of paris; smiting the lying traffic with indulgences, by one noble remonstrance, from the trembling hands of the archbishop of mainz; writing letter after letter of consolation or fatherly counsel to the little flock of christ at wittemberg; and, through all, toiling at that translation of the word of god, which is the great hope of our country. but older, tenderer, more familiar associations, mastered all the others when we heard his voice again--the faithful voice that had warned and comforted us so long in public and in private. to others, dr. luther might be the hero of worms, the teacher of germany, the st. george who had smitten the dragon of falsehood: to us he was the true, affectionate pastor; and many of us, i believe, heard little of the first words of his sermon, for the mere joy of hearing his voice again, as the clear, deep tones, vibrated through the silent church. he began with commending our faith. he said we had made much progress during his absence. but he went on to say, "we must have more than faith--we must have love. if a man with a sword in his hand happens to be alone, it matters little whether he keep it in the scabbard or not; but if he is in the midst of a crowd, he must take care to hold it so as not to hurt any one. "a mother begins with giving her infant milk. would it live if she gave it first meat and wine? "but, thou, my friend, hast, perhaps had enough of milk! it way be well for thee. yet let thy weaker, younger brother take it. the time was when thou also couldst have taken nothing else. "see the sun! it brings us two things--light and heat. the rays of light beam directly on us. no king is powerful enough to intercept those keen, direct, swift rays. but heat is radiated back to us from every side. thus, like the light, faith should ever be direct and inflexible; but love, like the heat, should radiate on all sides, and meekly adapt itself to the wants of all. "the abolition of the mass, you say," he continued, "is according to scripture. i agree with you. but in abolishing it, what regard had you for order and decency? you should have offered fervent prayers to god, public authority should have been applied to, and every one would have seen then that the thing came from god. "the mass is a bad thing; god is its enemy: it ought to be abolished; and i would that throughout the whole world it were superceded by the supper of the gospel. but let none tear any one away from it with violence. the matter ought to be committed to god. it is his word that must act, and not we. and wherefore? do you say? because i do not hold the hearts of men in my hand as the potter holds the clay in his. our work is to speak; god will act. let us preach. the rest belongs to him. if i employ force, what do i gain? changes in demeanour, outward shows, grimaces, shams, hypocrisies. but what becomes of sincerity of heart, of faith, of christian love? all is wanting where these are wanting; and for the rest i would not give the stalk of a pear. "what we want is the heart; and to win that, we must preach the gospel. then the word will drop to-day into one heart, to-morrow into another, and will so work that each will forsake the mass. god effects more than you and i and the whole world combined could attempt. he secures the heart; and when that is won, all is won. "i say not this in order to re-establish the mass. since it has been put down, in god's name let it remain so. but ought it to have been put down in the way it has been? st. paul, on arriving at the great city of athens, found altars there erected to false gods. he passed from one to another, made his own reflections on all, but touched none. but he returned peaceably to the forum, and declared to the people that all those gods were mere idols. this declaration laid hold on the hearts of some, and the idols fell without paul's touching them. i would preach, i would speak, i would write, but i would lay constraint on no one; for faith is a voluntary thing. see what i have done! i rose in opposition to the pope, to indulgences, and the papists; but i did so without tumult or violence. i pressed before all things the word of god; i preached, i wrote; i did nothing else. and while i was asleep, or seated at table in conversation with amsdorf and melancthon, over our wittemberg beer, that word which i had been preaching was working, and subverted the popedom as never before it was damaged by assault of prince or emperor. i did nothing; all was done by the word. had i sought to appeal to force, germany might by this time have been steeped in blood. and what would have been the result? ruin and desolation of soul and body. i therefore kept myself quiet, and left the word to force its own way through the world. know you what, the devil thinks when he sees people employ violence in disseminating the gospel among men? seated with his arms crossed behind hell fire, satan says, with a malignant look and hideous leer, 'ah, but these fools are wise men, indeed, to do my work for me!' but when he sees the word go forth and engage alone on the field of battle, then he feels ill at ease; his knees smite against each other, he shudders and swoons away with terror." quietly and reverently, not with loud debatings and noisy protestations of what they would do next, the congregation dispersed. the words of forbearance came with such weight from that daring, fearless heart, which has braved the wrath of popedom and empire above for god, and still braves excommunication and ban! _wednesday_, _march_ . yesterday again dr. luther preached. he earnestly warned us against the irreverent participation in the holy sacrament. "it is not the external eating, which makes the christian," he said; "it is the internal and spiritual eating, which is the work of faith, and without which all external things are mere empty shows and vain grimaces. now this faith consists in firmly believing that jesus christ is the son of god; that having charged himself with our sins and our iniquities, and having borne them on the cross, he is himself the sole, the all-sufficient expiation; that he ever appears before god; that he reconciles us to the father, and that he has given us the sacrament of his body in order to strengthen our faith in that unutterable mercy. if i believe these things, god is my defender: with him on my side, i brave sin, death, hell, and demons; they can do me no harm, nor even touch a hair of my head. this spiritual bread is the consolation of the afflicted, the cure of the sick, the life of the dying, food to the hungry, the treasure of the poor. he who is not grieved by his sins, ought not, then, to approach this altar. what would he do there? ah, did our conscience accuse us, did our heart feel crushed at the thought of our shortcomings, we could not then lightly approach the holy sacrament." there were more among us than the monk gabriel didymus (a few days since one of the most vehement of the violent faction, now sobered and brought to his right mind), that could say as we listened, "verily it is as the voice of an angel." but, thank god, it is not the voice of an angel, but a human voice vibrating to every feeling of our hearts--the voice of our own true, outspoken martin luther, who will, we trust, now remain with us to build up with the same word which has already cleared away so much. and yet i cannot help feeling as if his absence had done its work for us as well as his return. if the hands of violence can be arrested now, i cannot but rejoice they have done just as much as they have. now, let dr. luther's principle stand. abolish nothing that is not directly prohibited by the holy scriptures. _march_ . dr. luther's eight discourses are finished, and quiet is restored to wittemberg. the students resume their studies, the boys return to school; each begins with a lowly heart once more the work of his calling. no one has been punished. luther would not have force employed either against the superstitious or the unbelieving innovators. "liberty," he says, "is of the essence of faith." with his tender regard for the sufferings of others we do not wonder so much at this. but we all wonder far more at the gentleness of his words. they say the bravest soldiers make the best nurses of their wounded comrades. luther's hand seems to have laid aside the battle-axe, and coming among his sick and wounded and perplexed people here, he ministers to them gently as the kindest woman--as our own mother could, who is herself won over to love and revere him with all her heart. not a bitter word has escaped him, although the cause these disorders are risking is the cause for which he has risked his life. and there are no more tumults in the streets. the frightened cordelier monks may carry on their ceremonies without terror, or the aid of soldiery. all the warlike spirits are turned once more from raging against small external things, to the great battle beginning everywhere against bondage and superstition. dr. luther himself has engaged dr. melancthon's assistance in correcting and perfecting the translation of the new testament, which he made in the solitude of the wartburg. their friendship seems closer than ever. christopher's press is in the fullest activity, and all seem full of happy, orderly occupation again. sometimes i tremble when i think how much we seem to depend on dr. luther, lest we should make an idol of him; but thekla, who is amongst us again, said to me when i expressed this fear,-- "ah, dear elsè, that is the old superstition. when god gives us a glorious summer and good harvest, are we to receive it coldly and enjoy it tremblingly, lest he should send us a bad season next year to prevent our being too happy? if he sends the dark days, will he not also give us a lamp for our feet through them?" and even our gentle mother said,-- "i think if god gives us a staff, elsè, he _intends_ us to lean on it." "and when he takes it away," said eva, "i think he is sure to give us his own hand instead! i think what grieves god is, when we use his gifts for what he did _not_ intend them to be; as if, for instance, we were to _plant_ our staff, instead of _leaning_ on it; or to set it up as an image and adore it, instead of resting on it and adoring god. _then_, i suppose, we might have to learn that our idol was not in itself a support, or a living thing at all, but only a piece of lifeless wood." "yes," said thekla decidedly, "when god gives us friends, i believe he means us to love them as much as we can. and when he gives us happiness, i am sure he means us to enjoy it as much as we can. and when he gives soldiers a good general, he means them to trust and follow him. and when he gives us back dr. luther and cousin eva," she added, drawing eva's hand from her work and covering it with kisses, "i am quite sure he means us to welcome them with all our hearts, and feel that we can never make enough of them. o elsè," she added, smiling, "you will never, i am afraid, be set quite free from the old fetters. every now and then we shall hear them clanking about you, like the chains of the family ghost of the gersdorfs. you will never quite believe, dear good sister, that god is not better pleased with you when you are sad than when you are happy." "he is often nearest," said eva softly, "when we are sad." and thekla's lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears as she replied in a different tone,-- "i think i know that too, cousin eva." poor child, she has often had to prove it. her heart must often ache when she thinks of the perilous position of bertrand de crèqui among his hostile kindred in flanders. and it is therefore she cannot bear a shadow of a doubt to be thrown on the certainty of their re-union. the evangelical doctrine is enthusiastically welcomed at antwerp and other cities of the low countries. but, on the other hand, the civil and ecclesiastical authorities oppose it vehemently, and threaten persecution. _may_, . dr. luther has had an interview with mark stübner, the schoolmaster cellarius, and others of the zwickau prophets and their disciples. he told them plainly that he believed their violent, self-willed, fanatical proceedings were suggested, not by the holy spirit of love and truth, but by the spirit of lies and malice. yet he is said to have listened to them with quietness. cellarius, they say, foamed and gnashed his teeth with rage, but stübner showed more self-restraint. however, the prophets have all left wittemberg, and quiet is restored. a calm has come down on the place, and on every home in it--the calm of order and subjection instead of the restlessness of self-will. and all has been accomplished through the presence and the words of the man whom god has sent to be our leader, and whom we acknowledge. not one act of violence has been done since he came. he would suffer no constraint either on the consciences of the disciples of the "prophets," or on those of the old superstition. he relies, as we all do, on the effect of the translation of the bible into german, which is now quietly and rapidly advancing. every week the doctors meet in the augustinian convent, now all but empty, to examine the work done, and to consult about the difficult passages. when once this is accomplished, they believe god will speak through those divine pages direct to all men's hearts, and preachers and doctors may retire to their lowly subordinate places. xxiii. atlantis' story. chriemhild and i have always been the least clever of the family, and with much less that is distinctive about us. indeed, i do not think there is anything particularly characteristic about us, except our being twins. thekla says we are pure saxons, and have neither of us anything of the impetuous czech or bohemian blood; which may so far be good for me, because conrad has not a little of the vehement swiss character in him. every one always spoke of chriemhild and me, and thought of us together; and when they called us the beauties of the family, i think they chiefly meant that we looked pleasant together by contrast. thekla says god sends the flowers into the world as twins; contrasting with each other just as we did,--the dark-eyed violets with the fair primroses; golden gorse, and purple heather. chriemhild she used sometimes to call sister primrose, and me sister violet. chriemhild, however, is beautiful by herself without me,--so tall, and fair, and placid, and commanding-looking, with her large grey eyes, her calm broad brow, and her erect full figure, which always made her gentle manner seem condescending like a queen's. but i am nothing without chriemhild; only people used to like to see my small slight figure, and my black eyes and hair, beside hers. i wonder what conrad winkelried's people will think of me in that far-off mountainous switzerland whither he is to take me! he is sure they will all love me; but how can i tell? sometimes my heart flutters a great deal to think of leaving home, and elsè and the dear mother, and all. it is true chriemhild seemed to find it quite natural when the time came, but she is so different. every one was sure to be pleased with chriemhild. and i am so accustomed to love and kindness. they all know me so well here, and how much less clever i am than the rest, that they all bear with me tenderly. even thekla, who is often a little vehement, is always gentle with me, although she may laugh a little sometimes when i say anything more foolish than usual. i am so often making discoveries of things that every one else knew long since. i do not think i am so much afraid on my own account, because i have so little right to expect anything, and always get so much more than i deserve from our dear heavenly father and from every one. only on conrad's account i should like to be a little wiser, because he knows so many languages, and is so very clever. when i spoke to elsè about it once, she smiled and said she had the same kind of fears once, but if we ask him, god will always give us just the wisdom we want day by day. it is part of the "daily bread," she said. and certainly elsè is not learned, and yet every one loves her, and she does so much good in a quiet way. but then, although she is not learned, she seems to me wise in little things. and she used to write a chronicle when she was younger than i am. she told me so, although i have never seen it. i have been thinking that perhaps it is writing the chronicle that has made her wise, and therefore i intend to try to write one. but as at present i can think of nothing to say of my own, i will begin by copying a narrative conrad lent me to read a few days since, written by a young swiss student, a friend of his, who has just come to wittemberg from st. gall, where his family live. his name is johann kessler, and conrad thinks him very good and diligent. "_copy of johann kessler's narrative._ "as we were journeying towards wittemberg to study the holy scriptures, at jena we encountered a fearful tempest, and after many inquiries in the town for an inn where we might pass the night, we could find none, either by seeking or asking; no one would give us a night's lodging. for it was carnival time, when people have little care for pilgrims and strangers. so we went forth again from the town, to try if we could find a village where we might rest for the night. "at the gate, however, a respectable-looking man met us, and spoke kindly to us, and asked whither we journeyed so late at night, since in no direction could we reach house or inn where we could find shelter before dark night set in. it was, moreover, a road easy to lose; he counselled us, therefore, to remain all night where we were. "we answered,-- "'dear father, we have been at all the inns, and they sent us from one to another; everywhere they refused us lodging; we have, therefore, no choice but to journey further.' "then he asked if we had also inquired at the sign of the black bear. "then we said,-- "'we have not seen it. friend, where is it?' "then he led us a little out of the town. and when we saw the black bear, lo, whereas all the other landlords had refused us shelter, the landlord there came himself out at the gate to receive us, bade us welcome, and led us into the room. "there we found a man sitting alone at the table, and before him lay a little book. he greeted us kindly, asked us to draw near, and to place ourselves by him at the table. for our shoes (may we be excused for writing it) were so covered with mud and dirt, that we were ashamed to enter boldly into the chamber, and had seated ourselves on a little bench in a corner near the door. "then he asked us to drink, which we could not refuse. when we saw how cordial and friendly he was, we seated ourselves near him at his table as he had asked us, and ordered wine that we might ask him to drink in return. we thought nothing else but that he was a trooper, as he sat there, according to the custom of the country, in hosen and tunic, without armour, a sword by his side, his right hand on the pommel of his sword, his left grasping its hilt. his eyes were black and deep, flashing and beaming like a star, so that they could not well be looked at. "soon he began to ask what was our native country. but he himself replied,-- "'you are switzers. from what part of switzerland?" "we answered,-- "'from st gall.' "then he said,-- "if you are going hence to wittemberg, as i hear, you will find good fellow-countrymen there, namely, doctor hieronymus schurf, and his brother, doctor augustin.' "we said,-- "'we have letters to them.' and then we inquired, "'sir, can you inform us if martin luther is now at wittemberg, or if not, where he is?' "he said,-- "'i have reliable information that luther is not now at wittemberg. he will, however, soon be there. philip melancthon is there now; he teaches greek, and others teach hebrew. i counsel you earnestly to study both; for both are necessary in order to understand the holy scriptures.' "we said,-- "'god be praised! for if god spare our lives we will not depart till we see and hear that man; since on his account we have undertaken this journey, because we understood that he purposes to abolish the priesthood, together with the mass, as an unfounded worship. for as we have from our youth been destined by our parents to be priests, we would know what kind of instruction he will give us, and on what authority he seeks to effect such an object.' "after these words, he asked,-- "'where have you studied hitherto?' "answer, 'at basel.' "then he said, 'how goes it at basel? is erasmus of rotterdam still there, and what is he doing?" "'sir,' said we, 'we know not that things are going on there otherwise than well. also, erasmus is there, but what he is occupied with is unknown to any one, for he keeps himself very quiet, and in great seclusion.' "this discourse seemed to us very strange in the trooper; that he should know how to speak of both the schurfs, of philip, and erasmus, and also of the study of hebrew and greek. "moreover, he now and then used latin words, so that we deemed he must be more than a common trooper. "'friend,' he asked, 'what do they think in switzerland of luther.' "'sir, there, as elsewhere, there are various opinions. many cannot enough exalt him, and praise god that he has made his truth plain through him, and laid error bare; many, on the other hand, and among these more especially the clergy, condemn him as a reprobate heretic.' "then he said, 'i can easily believe it is the clergy that speak thus.' "with such conversation we grew quite confidential, so that my companion took up the little book that lay before him, and looked at it. it was a hebrew psalter. then he laid it quickly down again, and the trooper drew it to himself. and my companion said, 'i would give a finger from my hand to understand that language.' "he answered, 'you will soon comprehend it, if you are diligent; i also desire to understand it better, and practise myself daily in it.' "meantime the day declined, and it became quite dark, when the host came to the table. "when he understood our fervent desire and longing to see martin luther, he said,-- "'good friends, if you had been here two days ago, you would have had your wish, for he sat here at table, and' (pointing with his finger) 'in that place.' "it vexed and fretted us much that we should have lingered on the way; and we vented our anger on the muddy and wretched roads that had delayed us. "but we added,-- "'it rejoices us, however, to sit in the house and at the table where he sat.' "thereat the host laughed, and went out at the door. "after a little while, he called me to come to him at the door of the chamber. i was alarmed, fearing i had done something unsuitable, or that i had unwittingly given some offence. but the host said to me,-- "since i perceive that you so much wish to see and hear luther,--that is he who is sitting with you.' "i thought he was jesting, and said,-- "'ah, sir host, you would befool me and my wishes with a false image of luther!' "he answered,-- "'it is certainly he. but do not seem as if you knew this.' "i could not believe it; but i went back into the room, and longed to tell my companion what the host had disclosed to me. at last i turned to him, and whispered softly,-- "'the host has told me that is luther.' "he, like me, could not at once believe it, and said,-- "'he said, perhaps, it was hutten, and thou hast misunderstood him.' "and because the stranger's bearing and military dress suited hutten better than luther, i suffered myself to be persuaded he had said, 'it is hutten,' since the two names had a somewhat similar sound. what i said further, therefore, was on the supposition that i was conversing with huldrich ab hutten, the knight. "while this was going on, two merchants arrived, who intended also to remain the night; and after they had taken off their outer coats and their spurs, one laid down beside him an unbound book. "then he the host had (as i thought) called martin luther, asked what the book was. "'it is dr. martin luther's exposition of certain gospels and epistles, just published. have you not yet seen it?' "said martin, 'it will soon be sent to me.' "then said the host,-- "'place yourselves at table; we will eat.' "but we besought him to excuse us, and give us a place apart. but he said,-- "'good friends, seat yourselves at the table. i will see that you are welcome.' "when martin heard that he said,-- "'come, come, i will settle the score with the host by-and-by.' "during the meal, martin said many pious and friendly words, so that the merchants and we were dumb before him, and heeded his discourse far more than our food. among other things, he complained, with a sigh, how the princes and nobles were gathered at the diet at nürnberg on account of god's word, many difficult matters, and the oppression of the german nation, and yet seemed to have no purpose but to bring about better times by means of tourneys, sleigh-rides, and all kinds of vain, courtly pleasures; whereas the fear of god and christian prayer would accomplish so much more. "'yet these,' said he sadly, 'are our christian princes!' "'further, he said, 'we must hope that the evangelical truth will bring forth better fruit in our children and successors--who will never have been poisoned by papal error, but will be planted in the pure truth and word of god--than in their parents, in whom these errors are so deeply rooted that they are hard to eradicate.' "after this, the merchants gave their opinion, and the elder of them said,-- "'i am a simple, unlearned layman, and have no special understanding of these matters; but as i look at the thing, i say, luther must either be an angel from heaven or a devil from hell. i would gladly give ten florins to be confessed by him, for i believe he could and would enlighten my conscience.' "meantime the host came secretly to us and said,-- "'martin has paid for your supper.' "this pleased us much, not on account of the gold or the meal, but because that man had made us his guests. "after supper, the merchants rose and went into the stable to look after their horses. meanwhile martin remained in the room with us, and we thanked him for his kindness and generosity, and ventured to say we took him to be huldrich ab hutten. but he said,-- "'i am not he.' "thereon the host came, and martin said,-- "'i have to-night become a nobleman, for these switzers take me for huldrich ab hutten.' "and then he laughed at the jest, and said,-- "'they take me for hutten, and you take me for luther. soon i shall become markolfus the clown.' "and after this he took a tall beer-glass, and said, according to the custom of the country,-- "'switzers, drink after me a friendly draught to each other's welfare.' "but as i was about to take the glass from him, he changed it, and ordered, instead, a glass of wine, and said,-- "'beer is a strange and unwonted beverage to you. drink the wine.' "thereupon he stood up, threw his mantle over his shoulder, and took leave. he offered us his hand, and said,-- "'when you come to wittemberg, greet dr. hieronymus schurf from me.' "we said,-- "'gladly would we do that, but what shall we call you, that he may understand the greeting?' "he said,-- "'say nothing more than, _he who is coming_ sends you greeting. he will at once understand the words.' "thus he took leave of us, and retired to rest. "afterwards the merchants returned into the room, and desired the host to bring them more to drink, whilst they had much talk with him as to who this guest really was. "the host confessed he took him to be luther; whereupon they were soon persuaded, and regretted that they had spoken so unbecomingly before him, and said they would rise early on the following morning, before he rode off, and beg him not to be angry with them, or to think evil of them, since they had not known who he was. "this happened as they wished, and they found him the next morning in the stable. "but martin said, 'you said last night at supper you would gladly give ten florins to confess to luther. when you confess yourselves to him you will know whether i am martin luther or not.' "further than this he did not declare who he was, but soon afterwards mounted and rode off to wittemberg. "on the same day we came to naumburg, and as we entered a village (it lies under a mountain, and i think the mountain is called orlamunde, and the village nasshausen), a stream was flowing through it which was swollen by the rain of the previous day, and had carried away part of the bridge, so that no one could ride over it. in the same village we lodged for the night, and it happened that we again found in the inn the two merchants; so they, for luther's sake, insisted on making us their guests at this inn. "on the saturday after, the day before the first sunday in lent, we went to dr. hieronymus schurf, to deliver our letters of introduction. when we were called into the room, lo and behold! there we found the trooper martin, as before at jena; and with him were philip melancthon, justus jonas, nicolaus amsdorf, and dr. augustin schurf, who were relating to him what had happened at wittemberg during his absence. he greeted us, and, laughing, pointed with his finger and said, 'this is philip melancthon, of whom i spoke to you.'" * * * * * i have copied this to begin to improve myself, that i may be a better companion for conrad, and also because in after years i think we shall prize anything which shows how our martin luther won the hearts of strangers, and how, when returning to wittemberg an excommunicated and outlawed man, with all the care of the evangelical doctrine on him, he had a heart at leisure for little acts of kindness and words of faithful counsel. what a blessing it is for me, who can understand nothing of the "theologia teutsch," even in german, and never could have learned latin like eva, that dr. luther's sermons are so plain to me, great and learned as he is. chriemhild and i always understood them; and although we could never talk much to others, at night in our bed-room we used to speak to each other about them, and say how very simple religion seemed when he spoke of it,--just to believe in our blessed lord jesus christ, who died for our sins, and to love him, and to do all we can to make every one around us happier and better. what a blessing for people who are not clever, like chriemhild and me, to have been born in days when we are taught that religion is faith and love, instead of all of those complicated rules and lofty supernatural virtues which people used to call religion. and yet they say faith and love and humility are more really hard than all the old penances and good works. but that must be, i think, to people who have never heard, as we have from dr. luther, so much about god to make us love him; or to people who have more to be proud of than chriemhild and i and so find it more difficult to think little of themselves. xxiv. eva's story. wittemberg, _october_, . how strange it seemed at first to be moving freely about in the world once more, and to come back to the old home at wittemberg! very strange to find the places so little changed, and the people so much. the little room where elsè and i used to sleep, with scarcely an article of furniture altered, except that thekla's books are there instead of elsè's wooden crucifix; and the same view over the little garden, with its pear-tree full of white blossoms, to the elbe with bordering oaks and willows, all then in their freshest delicate early green; while the undulations of the level land faded in soft blues to the horizon. but, unlike the convent, all the changes in the people seemed to have been wrought by the touch of life rather than by that of death. in elsè's own home across the street, the ringing of those sweet childish voices, so new to me, and yet familiar with echoes of old tones and looks of our own well-remembered early days! and on elsè herself the change seemed only such as that which develops the soft tints of spring into the green of shadowing leaves. christopher has grown from the self-assertion of boyhood into the strength and protecting kindness of manhood. uncle cotta's blindness seems to dignify him and make him the central object of every one's tender, reverent care, while his visions grow brighter in the darkness, and more placid on account of his having no responsibility as to fulfilling them. he seems to me a kind of hallowing presence in the family, calling out every one's sympathy and kindness, and pathetically reminding us by his loss of the preciousness of our common mercies. on the grandmother's heart the light is more like dawn than sunset--so fresh, and soft, and full of hope her old age seems. the marks of fretting, daily anxiety, and care have been smoothed from dear aunt cotta's face; and although a deep shadow rests there often when she thinks of fritz, i feel sure sorrow is not now to her the shadow of a mountain of divine wrath, but the shadow of a cloud which brings blessing and hides light, which the sun of love drew forth, and the rainbow of promise consecrates. yet he has the place of the first-born in her heart. with the others, though not forgotten, i think his place is partly filled--but never with her. elsè's life is very full. atlantis never knew him as the elder ones did; and thekla, dearly as she learned to love him during his little sojourn at wittemberg, has her heart filled with the hopes of her future, or at times overwhelmed with its fears. with all it almost seems he would have in some measure to make a place again, if he were to return. but with aunt cotta the blank is as utterly a blank, and a sacred place kept free from all intrusion, as if it were a chamber of her dead, kept jealously locked and untouched since the last day he stood living there. yet surely he is not dead; i say so to myself and to her when she speaks of it, a thousand times. why, then, does this hopeless feeling creep over me when i think of him? it seems so impossible to believe he ever can be amongst us any more. if it would please god only to send us some little word! but since that letter from priest ruprecht haller, not a syllable has reached us. two months since, christopher went to this priest's village in franconia, and lingered some days in the neighbourhood, making inquiries in every direction around the monastery where he is. but he could hear nothing, save that in the autumn of last year, the little son of a neighbouring knight, who was watching his mother's geese on the outskirts of the forest near the convent, used to hear the sounds of a man's voice singing from the window of her tower where the convent prison is. the child used to linger near the spot to listen to the songs, which, he said, were so rich and deep--sacred, like church hymns, but more joyful than anything he ever heard at church. he thought they were easter hymns; but since one evening in last october he has never heard them, although he has often listened. nearly a year since now! yet nothing can silence those resurrection hymns in his heart! aunt cotta's great comfort is the holy sacrament. nothing, she says, lifts up her heart like that. other symbols, or writings, or sermons bring before her, she says, some part of truth; but the holy supper brings the lord himself before her. not one truth about him, or another, but _himself_; not one act of his holy life alone, nor even his atoning death, but his very person, human and divine,--_himself_ living, dying, conquering death, freely bestowing life. she has learned that to attend that holy sacrament is not, as she once thought, to perform a good work, which always left her more depressed than before with the feeling how unworthy and coldly she had done it; but to look off from self to him who finished _the good work_ of redemption for us. as dr. melancthon says,-- "just as looking at the cross is not the doing of a good work, but simply contemplating a sign which recalls to us the death of christ; "just as looking at the sun is not the doing of a good work, but simply contemplating a sign which recalls to us christ and his gospel; "so participating at the lord's table is not the doing of a good work, but simply the making use of a sign which brings to mind the grace that has been bestowed on us by christ." "but here lies the difference; symbols discovered by man simply recall what they signify, whereas the signs given by god not only recall the things, but further assure the heart with respect to the will of god." "as the sight of a cross does not justify, so the mass does not justify. as the sight of a cross is not a sacrifice, either for our sins or for the sins of others, so the mass is not a sacrifice." "there is but one sacrifice, there is but one satisfaction--jesus christ. beyond him there is nothing of the kind." i have been trying constantly to find a refuge for the nine evangelical nuns i left at nimptschen, but hitherto in vain. i do not, however, by any means despair. i have advised them now to write themselves to dr. luther. _october_, . the german new testament is published at last. on september the st it appeared; and that day, happening to be aunt cotta's birthday, when she came down among us in the morning, gottfried reichenbach met her, and presented her with two large folio volumes in which it is printed, in the name of the whole family. since then one volume always lies on a table in the general sitting-room, and one in the window of aunt cotta's bed-room. often now she comes down in the morning with a beaming face, and tells us of some verse she has discovered. uncle cotta calls it her diamond-mine, and says, "the little mother has found the el dorado after all!" one morning it was,-- "cast all your care on him, for he careth for you;' and that lasted her many days." to-day it was,-- "tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of god is shed abroad in our hearts by the holy ghost, which is given unto us." "eva," she said, "that seems to me so simple. it seems to me to mean, that when sorrow comes, then the great thing we have to do is, to see we do not lose hold of _patience_; she seems linked to all the other graces, and to lead them naturally into the heart, hand in hand, one by one. eva, dear child," she added, "is that what is meant?" i said how often those words had cheered me, and how happy it is to think that all the while these graces are illumining the darkness of the heart, the dark hours are passing away, until all at once hope steals to the casement and withdraws the shutters; and the light which has slowly been dawning all the time streams into the heart, "the love of god shed abroad by the holy ghost." "but," rejoined aunt cotta, "we cannot ourselves bring in experience, or reach the hand of hope, or open the window to let in the light of love; we can only look up to god, keep firm hold of patience, and _she will bring all the rest_." "and yet," i said, "_peace_ comes before _patience_, peace with god through faith in him who was delivered for our offences. all these graces do not lead us up to god. we have access to him first, and in his presence we learn the rest." yes, indeed, the changes in the wittemberg world since i left it, have been wrought by the hand of life, and not by that of death, or time, which is his shadow. for have not the brightest been wrought by the touch of the life himself? it is god, not time, that has mellowed our grandmother's character; it is god and not time that has smoothed the careworn wrinkles from aunt cotta's brow. it is life and not death that has all but emptied the augustinian convent, sending the monks back to their places in the world, to serve god and proclaim his gospel. it is the water of life that is flowing through home after home in the channel of dr. luther's german testament and bringing forth fruits of love, and joy, and peace. and we know it is life and not death which is reigning in that lonely prison, wherein the child heard the resurrection hymns, and that is triumphing now in the heart of him who sang them, wherever he may be! xxv. thekla's story. _october_, . once more the letters come regularly from flanders; and in most ways their tidings are joyful. nowhere throughout the world, bertrand writes, does the evangelical doctrine find such an eager reception as there. the people in the great free cities have been so long accustomed to judge for themselves, and to speak their minds freely. the augustinian monks who studied at wittemberg, took back the gospel with them to antwerp, and preached it openly in their church, which became so thronged with eager hearers, that numbers had to listen outside the doors. it is true, bertrand says, that the prior and one or two of the monks have been arrested, tried at brussels, and silenced; but the rest continue undauntedly to preach as before, and the effect of the persecution has been only to deepen the interest of the citizens. the great new event which is occupying us all now, however, is the publication of dr. luther's new testament. chriemhild writes that is the greatest boon to her, because being afraid to trust herself to say much, she simply reads, and the peasants seem to understand that book better than anything she can say about it; or even, if at any time they come to anything which perplexes them, they generally find that by simply reading on it grows quite clear. also, she writes, ulrich reads it every evening to all the servants, and it seems to bind the household together wonderfully. they feel that at last they have found something inestimably precious, which is yet no "privilege" of man or class, but the common property of all. in many families at wittemberg the book is daily read, for there are few of those who can read at all who cannot afford a copy, since the price is but a florin and a half. new hymns also are beginning to spring up among us. we are no more living on the echo of old songs. a few days since a stranger from the north sang before dr. luther's windows, at the augustinian convent, a hymn beginning,-- "es ist das heil uns kommen her." dr. luther desired that it might be sung again. it was a response from prussia to the glad tidings which have gone forth far and wide through his words! he said "he thanked god with a full heart." the delight of having eva among us once more is so great! her presence seems to bring peace with it. it is not what she says or does, but what she is. it is more like the effect of music than anything else i know. a quiet seems to come over one's heart from merely being with her. no one seems to fill so little space, or make so little noise in the world as eva, when she is there; and yet when she is gone, it is as if the music and the light had passed from the place. everything about her always seems so in tune. her soft, quiet voice, her gentle, noiseless movements, her delicate features, the soft curve of her cheek, those deep loving eyes, of which one never seems able to remember anything but that eva herself looks through them into your heart. all so different from me, who can scarcely ever come into a room without upsetting something, or disarranging some person, and can seldom enter on a conversation without upsetting some one's prejudices, or grating on some one's feelings! it seems to me sometimes as if god did indeed lead eva, as the psalm says, "by his eye;" as if he had trained her to what she is by the direct teaching of his gracious voice, instead of by the rough training of circumstances. and nevertheless, she never makes me feel her hopelessly above me. the light is not like a star, which makes one feel "how peaceful it must be there, in these heights," but brings little light upon our path. it is like a lowly sunbeam coming down among us, and making us warm and bright. she always makes me think of the verse about the saint who was translated silently to heaven, because he had "_walked with god_." yes, i am sure that is her secret. only i have a malicious feeling that i should like to see her for once thoroughly tossed out of her calm, just to be quite sure it is god's peace, and not some natural or fairy gift, or a stoical impassiveness from the "theologia teutsch." sometimes, i fancy for an instant whether it is not a little too much with eva, as if she were "translated" already; as if she had passed to _the other side_ of the deepest earthly joy and sorrow, at least as regards herself. certainly she has not as regards others. her sympathy is indeed no condescending alms, flung from the other side of the flood, no pitying glance cast down on grief she feels, but could never share. have i not seen her lip quiver, when i spoke of the dangers around bertrand, even when my voice was firm, and felt her tears on my face when she drew me to her heart. _december_, . that question at last is answered! i _have_ seen cousin eva moved out of her calm, and feel at last quite sure she is not "translated" yet. yesterday evening we were all sitting in the family room. our grandmother was dozing by the stove. eva and my mother were busy at the table, helping atlantis in preparing the dresses for her wedding, which is to be early in next year. i was reading to my father from dr. melancthon's new book, "the common places," (which all learned people say is so much more elegant and beautifully written than dr. luther's works, but which is to me only just a composed book, and not like all dr. luther's writings, a voice from the depths of a heart.) i was feeling like my grandmother, a little sleepy, and, indeed, the whole atmosphere around us seemed drowsy and still, when our little maid, lottchen, opened the door with a frightened expression, and before she could say anything, a pale tall man stood there. only eva and i were looking towards the door. i could not think who it was, until a low startled voice exclaimed "fritz!" and looking around at eva, i saw she had fainted. in another instant he was kneeling beside her, lavishing every tender name on her, while my mother stood on the other side, holding the unconscious form in her arms, and sobbing out fritz's name. our dear father stood up, asking bewildered questions--our grandmother awoke, and rubbing her eyes, surveyed the whole group with a puzzled expression, murmuring,-- "is it a dream? or are the zwickau prophets right after all, and is it the resurrection?" but no one seemed to remember that tears and endearing words and bewildered exclamations were not likely to restore any one from a fainting fit, until to my great satisfaction our good motherly elsè appeared at the door, saying, "what is it? lottchen ran over to tell me she thought there were thieves." then comprehending everything at a glance, she dipped a handkerchief in water, and bathed eva's brow, and fanned her with it, until in a few minutes she awoke with a short sobbing breath, and in a little while her eyes opened, and as they rested on fritz, a look of the most perfect rest came over her face, she placed her other hand on the one he held already, and closed her eyes again. i saw great tears falling under the closed eyelids. then looking up again and seeing my mother bending over her, she drew down her hand and laid it on fritz's, and we left those three alone together. when we were all safely in the next room, we all by one impulse began to weep. i sobbed,-- "he looks so dreadfully ill. i think they have all but murdered him." and elsè said,-- "she has exactly the same look on her face that came over it when she was recovering from the plague, and he stood motionless beside her, with that rigid hopeless tranquility on his face, just before he left to be a monk. what will happen next?" and my grandmother said in a feeble broken voice, "he looks just as your grandfather did when he took leave of me in prison. indeed, sometimes i am quite confused in mind. it seems as if things were coming over again. i can hardly make out whether it is a dream, or a ghost, or a resurrection." our father only did not join in our tears. he said what was very much wiser. "children, the greatest joy our house has known since fritz left has came to it to-day. let us give god thanks." and we all stood around him while he took the little velvet cap from his bald head and thanked god, while we all wept out our amen. after that we grew calmer; the overwhelming tumult of feeling, in which we could scarcely tell joy from sorrow, passed, and we began to understand it was indeed a great joy which had been given to us. then we heard a little stir in the house, and my mother summoned us back; but we found her alone with fritz, and would insist on his submitting to an unlimited amount of family caresses and welcomes. "come, fritz, and assure our grandmother that you are alive, and that you have never been dead," said elsè. and then her eyes filling with tears, she added, "what you must have suffered! if i had not remembered you before you received the tonsure, i should scarcely have known you now with your dark, long beard, and your white thin face." "yes," observed atlantis in the deliberate way in which she usually announces her discoveries, "no doubt that is the reason why eva recognized fritz before thekla did, although they were both facing the door, and must have seen him at the same time. she remembered him before he received the tonsure." we all smiled a little at atlantis' discovery, whereupon she looked up with a bewildered expression, and said, "do you think, then, she did _not_ recognize him? i did not think of that. probably, then, she took him for a thief, like lottchen!" fritz was deep in conversation with our mother, and was not heeding us, but elsè laughed softly as she patted atlantis' hand, and said,-- "conrad winkelried must have expressed himself very plainly, sister, before you understood him." "he did, sister elsè," replied atlantis gravely. "but what has that to do with eva?" when i went up to our room, eva's and mine, i found her kneeling by her bed. in a few minutes she rose, and clasping me in her arms, she said,-- "god is very good, thekla. i have believed that so long, but never half enough until to-night." i saw that she had been weeping, but the old calm had come back to her face, only with a little more sunshine on it. then, as if she feared to be forgetting others in her own happiness, she took my hand and said-- "dear thekla, god is leading us all through all the dark days to the morning. we must never distrust him any more!" and without saying another word we retired to rest. in the morning when i woke eva was sitting beside me with a lamp on the table, and the large latin bible open before her. i watched her face for some time. it looked so pure, and good, and happy, with that expression on it which always helped me to understand the meaning of the words, "child of god," "little children," as dr. melancthon says our lord called his disciples just before he left them. there was so much of the unclouded trustfulness of the "_child_" in it, and yet so much of the peace and depth which are of _god_. after i had been looking at her a while she closed the bible and began to alter a dress of mine which she had promised to prepare for christmas. as she was sewing, she hummed softly, as she was accustomed, some strains of old church music. at length i said-- "eva, how old were you when fritz became a monk?" "sixteen," she said softly; "he went away just after the plague." "then you have been separated twelve long years," i said. "god, then, sometimes exercises patience a long while." "it does not seem long now," she said; "we both believed we were separated by god, and separated for ever on earth." "poor eva," i said; "and this was the sorrow which helped to make you so good." "i did not know it had been so great a sorrow, thekla," she said with a quivering voice, "until last night." "then you had loved each other all that time," i said, half to myself. "i suppose so," she said in a low voice. "but i never knew till yesterday how much." after a short silence, she began again with a smile,-- "thekla, he thinks me unchanged during all those years; me, the matron of the novices! but oh, how he is changed! what a life-time of suffering on his face! how they must have made him suffer!" "god gives it to you as your life-work to restore and help him," i said. "o eva, it must be the best woman's lot in the world to bind up for the dearest on earth the wounds which men have inflicted. it must be joy unutterable to receive back from god's own hands a love you have both so dearly proved you were ready to sacrifice for him." "your mother thinks so too," she said. "she said last night the vows which would bind us together would be holier than any ever uttered by saint or hermit." "did our mother say that?" i asked. "yes," replied eva. "and she said she was sure dr. luther would think so also." xxvi. fritz's story. _december_ , . we are betrothed. solemnly in the presence of our family and friends eva has promised to be my wife; and in a few weeks we are to be married. our home (at all events, at first) is to be in the thuringian forest, in the parsonage belonging to ulrich von gersdorf's castle. the old priest is too aged to do anything. chriemhild has set her heart on having us to reform the peasantry, and they all believe the quiet and the pure air of the forest will restore my health, which has been rather shattered by all i have gone through during these last months, although not as much as they think. i feel strong enough for anything already. what i have lost during all those years in being separated from her! how poor and one-sided my life has been! how strong the rest her presence gives me, makes me to do whatever work god may give me! amazing blasphemy on god to assert that the order in which he has founded human life is disorder, that the love which the son of god compares to the relation between himself and his church sullies or lowers the heart. have these years then been lost? have i wandered away wilful and deluded from the lot of blessing god had appointed me, since that terrible time of the plague, at eisenach? have all these been wasted years? has all the suffering been fruitless, unnecessary pain? and, after all, do i return with precious time lost and strength diminished just to the point i might have reached so long ago! for eva i am certain this is not so; every step of her way, the loving hand has led her. did not the convent through her become a home or a way to the eternal home to many? but for me? no, for me also the years have brought more than they have taken away! those who are to help the perplexed and toiling men of their time, must first go down into the conflicts of their time. is it not this which makes even martin luther the teacher of our nation? is it not this which qualifies weak and sinful men to be preachers of the gospel instead of angels from heaven? the holy angels sang on their heavenly heights the glad tidings of great joy, but the shepherds, the fishermen, and the publican spoke it in the homes of men! the angel who liberated the apostles from prison said, as if spontaneously, from the fulness of his heart, "go speak to the people the words _of this life_." but the trembling lips of peter who had denied, and thomas who had doubted, and john who had misunderstood, were to speak the life-giving words to men, denying, doubting, misconceiving men, to tell what they knew, and how the saviour could forgive. the voice that had been arrested in cowardly curses by the look of divine pardoning love, had a tone in it the archangel michael's could never have! and when the pharisees, hardest of all, were to be reached, god took a pharisee of the pharisees, a blasphemer, a persecutor, one who could say, "i might also have confidence in the flesh," "i persecuted the church of god." was david's secret contest in vain, when slaying the lion and the bear, to defend those few sheep in the wilderness, he proved the weapons with which he slew goliath and rescued the host of israel? were martin luther's years in the convent of erfurt lost? or have they not been the school-days of his life, the armoury where his weapons were forged, the gymnasium in which his eye and hand were trained for the battle-field? he has seen the monasteries from within; he has felt the monastic life from within. he can say of all these internal rules, "i have proved them, and found them powerless to sanctify the heart." it is this which gives the irresistible power to his speaking and writing. it is this which by god's grace enables him to translate the epistles of paul the pharisee and the apostle as he has done. the truths had been translated by the holy spirit into the language of his experience, and graven on his heart long before; so that in rendering the greek into german he also testified of things he had seen, and the bible from his pen reads as if it had been originally written in german, for the german people. to me also in my measure these years have not been time lost. there are many truths that one only learns in their fulness by proving the bitter bondage of the errors they contradict. perhaps also we shall help each other and others around us better for having been thus trained apart. i used to dream of the joy of leading her into life. but now god gives her back to me enriched with all those years of separate experience, not as the eva of childhood, when i saw her last, but ripened to perfect womanhood; not merely to reflect my thoughts, but to blend the fulness of her life with mine. xxvii. eva's story. wittemberg, _january_, . how little idea i had how the thought of fritz was interwoven with all my life! he says he knew only too well how the thoughts of me was bound up with every hope and affection of his! but he contended against it long. he said that conflict was far more agonizing than all he suffered in the prison since. for many years he thought it sin to think of me. i never thought it sin to think of him. i was sure it was not, whatever my confessor might say. because i had always thanked god more than for anything else in the world, for all he had been to me, and had taught me, and i felt so sure what i could thank god for could not be wrong. but now it is _duty_ to love him best. of that i am quite sure. and certainly it is not difficult. my only fear is that he will be disappointed in me when he learns just what i am, day by day, with all the halo of distance gone. and yet i am not really afraid. love weaves better glories than the mists of distance. and we do not expect miracles from each other, or that life is to be a paradise. only the unutterable comfort of being side by side in every conflict, trial, joy, and supporting each other! if i can say "only" of that! for i do believe our help will be mutual. far weaker and less wise as i am than he is, with a range of thought and experience so much narrower, and a force of purpose so much feebler, i feel i have a kind of strength which may in some way, at some times even help fritz. and it is this which makes me see the good of these separated years, in which otherwise i might have lost so much. with him the whole world seems so much larger and higher to me, and yet during these years, i do feel god has taught me something, and it is a happiness to have a little more to bring him than i could have had in my early girlhood. it was for my sake, then, he made that vow of leaving us for ever! and aunt cotta is so happy. on that evening when he returned, and we three were left alone, she said, after a few minutes' silence-- "children, let us all kneel down, and thank god that he has given me the desire of my heart." and afterwards she told us what she had always wished and planned for fritz and me, and how she had thought his abandoning of the world a judgment for her sins; but how she was persuaded now that the curse borne for us was something infinitely more than anything she could have endured, and that it had been all borne, and nailed to the bitter cross, and rent and blotted out for ever. and now, she said, she felt as if the last shred of evil were gone, and her life were beginning again in us--to be blessed and a blessing beyond her utmost dreams. fritz does not like to speak much of what he suffered in the prison of that dominican convent, and least of all to me; because, although i repeat to myself, "it is over--over for ever!"--whenever i think of his having been on the dreadful rack, it all seems present again. he was on the point of escaping the very night they came and led him in for examination in the torture-chamber. and after that, they carried him back to prison, and seemed to have left him to die there. for two days they sent him no food; but then the young monk who had first spoken to him, and induced him to come to the convent, managed to steal to him almost every day with food and water, and loving words of sympathy, until his strength revived a little, and they escaped together through the opening he had dug in the wall before the examination. but their escape was soon discovered, and they had to hide in the caves and recesses of the forest for many weeks before they could strike across the country and find their way to wittemberg at last. but it is over now. and yet not over. he who suffered will never forget the suffering faithfully borne for him. and the prison at the dominican convent will be a fountain of strength for his preaching among the peasants in the thuringian forest. he will be able to say, "god can sustain in all trials. he will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able to bear. _i know it, for i have proved it._" and i think that will help him better to translate the bible to the hearts of the poor, than even the greek and hebrew he learned at rome and tübingen. xxviii. elsè's story. all our little world is in such a tumult of thankfulness and joy at present, that i think i am the only sober person left in it. the dear mother hovers around her two lost ones with quiet murmurs of content, like a dove around her nest, and is as absorbed as if she were marrying her first daughter, or were a bride herself, instead of being the established and honoured grandmother that she is. chriemhild and i might find it difficult not to be envious, if we had not our own private consolations at home. eva and fritz are certainly far more reasonable, and instead of regarding the whole world as centering in them, like our dear mother, appear to consider themselves made to serve the whole world, which is more christian-like, but must also have its limits. i cannot but feel it a great blessing for them that they have chriemhild and ulrich, and more especially gottfried and me, to look after their temporal affairs. for instance, house linen. eva, of course, has not a piece; and as to her bridal attire, i believe she would be content to be married in a nun's robe, or in the peasant's dress she escaped from nimptschen in. however, i have stores which, as gretchen is not likely to require them just yet, will, no doubt, answer the purpose. gretchen is not more than eight, but i always think it well to be beforehand; and my maidens had already a stock of linen enough to stock several chests for her, which, under the circumstances, seems quite a special providence. gottfried insists upon choosing her wedding dress. and my mother believes her own ancestral jewelled head-dress with the pearls (which once in our poverty we nearly sold to a merchant at eisenach) has been especially preserved for eva. it is well that atlantis, who is to be married on the same day, is the meekest and most unselfish of brides, and that her marriage outfit is already all but arranged. chriemhild and ulrich have persuaded the old knight to rebuild the parsonage; and she writes what a delight it is to watch it rising among the cottages in the village, and think of the fountain of blessing that house will be to all. our grandmother insists on working with her dear, feeble hands, on eva's wedding stores, and has ransacked her scanty remnants of former splendour, and brought out many a quaint old jewel from the ancient schönberg treasures. christopher is secretly preparing them a library of all dr. luther's and dr. melancthon's books, beautifully bound, and i do not know how many learned works besides. and the melancholy has all passed from fritz's face, or only remains as the depth of a river to bring out the sparkle of its ripples. the strain seems gone from eva's heart and his. they both seem for the first time all they were meant to be. just now, however, another event is almost equally filling our grandmother's heart. a few days since, christopher brought in two foreigners to introduce to us. when she saw them, her work dropped from her hands, and half rising to meet them, she said some words in a language strange to all of us. the countenances of the strangers brightened as she spoke, and they replied in the same language. after a few minutes' conversation, our grandmother turned to us, and said,-- "they are bohemians,--they are hussites. they know my husband's name. the truth he died for is still living in my country." the rush of old associations was too much for her. her lips quivered, the tears fell slowly over her cheeks, and she could not say another word. the strangers consented to remain under my father's roof for the night, and told us the errand which brought them to wittemberg. from generation to generation, since john huss was martyred, they said, the truth he taught had been preserved in bohemia, always at the risk, and often at the cost of life. sometimes it had perplexed them much that nowhere in the world beside could they hear of those who believed the same truth. could it be possible that the truth of god was banished to the mountain fastnesses? like elijah of old, they felt disposed to cry in their wilderness, "i, only i, am left." "but they could not have been right to think thus," said my mother, who never liked the old religion to be too much reproached. "god has always had his own who have loved him, in the darkest days. from how many convent cells have pious hearts looked up to him. it requires great teaching of the holy spirit and many battles to make a luther; but, i think, it requires only to touch the hem of christ's garment to make a christian. "yes," said gottfried, opening our beloved commentary on the galatians, "what dr. luther said is true indeed, 'some there were in the olden time whom god called by the text of the gospel and by baptism. these walked in simplicity and humbleness of heart, thinking the monks and friars, and such only as were annointed by the bishops, to be religious and holy, and themselves to be profane and secular, and not worthy to be compared to them. wherefore, they, feeling in themselves no good works to set against the wrath and judgment of god, did fly to the death and passion of christ, and were saved in this simplicity.'" "no doubt it was so," said the bohemian deputies. "but all this was hidden from the eye of man. twice our fathers sent secret messengers through the length and breadth of christendom to see if they could find any that did understand, that did seek after god, and everywhere they found carelessness, superstition, darkness, but no response." "ah," said my mother, "that is a search only the eye of god can make. yet, doubtless, the days were dark." "they came back without having met with any response," continued the strangers, "and again our fathers had to toil and suffer on alone. and now the sounds of life have reached us in our mountain solitudes from all parts of the world; and we have come to wittemberg to hear the voice which awoke them first, and to claim brotherhood with the evangelical christians here. dr. luther has welcomed us, and we return to our mountains to tell our people that the morning has dawned on the world at last." the evening passed in happy intercourse, and before we separated, christopher brought his lute, and we all sang together the hymn of john huss, which dr. luther has published among his own:-- "jesus christus nostra salus," and afterwards luther's own glorious hymn in german, "_nun freut euch lieben christen gemein_:" dear christian people, all rejoice; each soul with joy upspringing: pour forth one song with heart and voice, with love and gladness singing. give thanks to god, our lord above-- thanks for his miracles of love: dearly he hath redeemed us! the devil's captive bound i lay, lay in death's chains forlorn; my sins distressed me night and day-- the sin within me born; i could not do the thing i would, in all my life was nothing good, sin had possessed me wholly. my good works could no comfort shed, worthless must they be rated; my free will to all good was dead, and god's just judgments hated. me of all hope my sins bereft: nothing but death to me was left, and death was hell's dark portal. then god saw with deep pity moved my grief that knew no measure; pitying he saw, and freely loved,-- to save me was his pleasure. the father's heart to me was stirred, he saved me with no sovereign word, his very best it cost him. he spoke to his beloved son with infinite compassion, "go hence, my heart's most precious crown. be to the lost salvation; death, his relentless tyrant slay, and bear him from his sins away, with thee to live forever." willing the son took that behest, born of a maiden mother, to his own earth he came a guest, and made himself my brother. all secretly he went his way, veiled in my mortal flesh he lay, and thus the foe he vanquished. he said to me, "cling close to me, thy sorrows now are ending! freely i gave myself for thee, thy life with mine defending; for i am thine, and thou art mine, and where i am there thou shalt shine, the foe shall never reach us. true, he will shed my heart's life blood, and torture me to death: all this i suffer for thy good, this hold with earnest faith. death dieth through my life divine; i sinless bear those sins of thine, and so shalt thou be rescued. i rise again to heaven from hence, high to my father soaring, thy master there to be, and thence, my spirit on thee pouring; in every grief to comfort thee, and teach thee more and more of me, into all truth still guiding. what i have done and taught on earth, do thou, and teach, none dreading; that so god's kingdom may go forth, and his high praise be spreading; and guard thee from the words of men, lest the great joy be lost again; thus my last charge i leave thee." afterwards, at our mother's especial desire, eva and fritz sang a latin resurrection hymn from the olden time.[ ] [footnote : mundi renovatio nova parit gaudia, resurgente domino conresurgunt omnia; elementa serviunt, et auctoris sentiunt, quanta sint solemnia. &c. &c. &c. (the translation only is given above.)] the renewal of the world countless new joys bringeth forth: christ arising, all things rise-- rise with him from earth. all the creatures feel their lord-- feel his festal light outpoured. fire springs up with motion free, breezes wake up soft and warm; water flows abundantly, earth remaineth firm. all things light now skyward soar, solid things are rooted more; all things are made new. ocean waves, grown tranquil, lie smiling 'neath the heavens serene; all the air breathes light and fresh; our valley groweth green. verdure clothes the arid plain, frozen waters gush again at the touch of spring. for the frost of death is melted the prince of this world lieth low; and his empire strong among us, all is broken now. grasping him in whom alone he could nothing claim or own, his domain he lost. paradise is now regained, life has vanquished death; and the joys he long had lost, man recovereth. the cherubim at god's own word turn aside the flaming sword; the long-lost blessing is restored. the closed way opened free.[ ] [footnote : adam of st. victor, twelfth century.] the next morning the strangers left us; but all the day our grandmother sat silent and tranquil, with her hands clasped, in an inactivity very unusual with her. in the evening, when we had assembled again--as we all do now every day in the old house--she said quietly, "children, sing to me the 'nunc dimittis.' god has fulfilled every desire of my heart; and, if he willed it, i should like now to depart in peace to my dead. for i know they live unto him." afterwards, we fell into conversation about the past. it was the eve of the wedding-day of eva and fritz, and atlantis and conrad. and we, a family united in one faith, naturally spoke together of the various ways in which god had led us to the one end. the old days rose up before me, when the ideal of holiness had towered above my life, grim and stony, like the fortress of the wartburg (in which my patroness had lived), above the streets of eisenach, and when even christ the lord seemed to me, as dr. luther says, "a law-maker giving more strait and heavy commands than moses himself"--an irrevocable, unapproachable judge, enthroned far up in the cold spaces of the sky; and heaven, like a convent, with very high walls, peopled by nuns rigid as aunt agnes. and then the change which came over all my heart when i learned, through dr. luther's teaching, that god is love--is our father; that christ is the saviour, who gave himself for our sins, and loved us better than life; that heaven is our father's house; that holiness is simply loving god--who is so good, and who has so loved us, and, loving one another, that the service we have to render is simply to give thanks and to do good;--when, as dr. luther said, that word "our" was written deeply in my heart--that for _our_ sins he died--for mine,--that for all, for us, for _me_, he gave himself. and then fritz told us how he had toiled and tormented himself to reconcile god to him, until he found, through dr. luther's teaching, that our sins have been borne away by the lamb of god--the sacrifice not of man's gift, but of god's; "that in that one person, jesus christ, we had forgiveness of sins and eternal life;" that god is to us as the father to the prodigal son--entreating _us_ to be reconciled to him. and he told us also, how he had longed for a priest, who could know infallibly all his heart, and secure him from the deceitfulness and imperfectness of his own confessions, and assure him that, knowing all his sin to its depths, with all its aggravations, he yet pronounced him absolved. and at last he had found that priest, penetrating to the depths of his heart, tracing every act to its motive, every motive to its source, and yet pronouncing him absolved, freely, fully, at once--imposing no penance, but simply desiring a life of thanksgiving in return. "and this priest," he added, "is with me always; i make my confession to him every evening, or oftener, if i need it; and as often as i confess, he absolves, and bids me be of good courage--go in peace, and sin no more. but he is not on earth. he dwells in the holy of holies, which never more is empty, like the solitary sanctuary of the old temple on all days in the year but one. he ever liveth to make intercession for us!" then we spoke together of the two great facts dr. luther had unveiled to us from the holy scriptures, that there is one sacrifice of atonement, the spotless lamb of god, who gave himself once for our sins; and that there is but one priestly mediator, the son of man and son of god; that, in consequence of this, all christians are a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices; and the feeblest has his offering, which, through jesus christ, god delights to accept, having first accepted the sinner himself in the beloved. our mother spoke to us, in a few words, of the dreadful thoughts she had of god--picturing him rather as the lightning than the light; of the curse which she feared was lowering like a thunder-cloud over her life, until dr. luther began to show her that the curse has been borne for us by him who was made a curse for us, and removed for ever from all who trust in him. "and then," she said, "the holy supper taught me the rest. he bore for us the cross; he spreads for us the feast. we have, indeed, the cross to bear, but never more the curse; the cross from man, temptation from the devil, but from god nothing but blessing." but eva said she could not remember the time when she did not think god good and kind beyond all. there were many other things in religion which perplexed her; but this had always seemed clear, that god so loved the world, he gave his son. and she had always hoped that all the rest would be clear one day in the light of that love. the joy which dr. luther's writings had brought her was, she thought, like seeing the stains cleared away from some beautiful painting, whose beauty she had known but not fully seen--or like having a misunderstanding explained about a dear friend. she had always wondered about the hard penances to appease one who loved so much, and the many mediators to approach him; and it had been an inexpressible delight to find that these were all a mistake, and that access to god was indeed open--that the love and the sin,--life and death,--had met on the cross, and the sin had been blotted out, and death swallowed up of life. in such discourse we passed the eve of the wedding day. and now the day has vanished like a bright vision; our little gentle loving atlantis has gone with her husband to their distant home, the bridal crowns are laid aside, and eva and fritz in their sober every-day dress, but with the crown of unfading joy in their hearts, have gone together to their lowly work in the forest, to make one more of those hallowed pastor's homes which are springing up now in the villages of our land. but gretchen's linen-chest is likely to be long before it can be stored again. we have just received tidings of the escape of eva's friends, the nine nuns of nimptschen, from the convent, at last! they wrote to dr. luther, who interested himself much in seeking asylums for them. and now master leonard koppe of torgan has brought them safely to wittemberg concealed in his beer waggon. they say one of the nuns in their haste left her slipper behind. they are all to be received into various homes, and gottfried and i are to have the care of catherine von bora, the most determined and courageous, it is said, of all, from whose cell they effected their escape. i have been busy preparing the guest-chamber for her, strewing lavender on the linen, and trying to make it home-like for the young maiden who is banished for christ's sake from her old home. i think it must bring blessings to any home to have such guests. _june_, . our guest, the noble maiden catherine von bora, has arrived. grave and reserved she seems to be, although eva spoke of her as very cheerful, and light as well as firm of heart. i feel a little afraid of her. her carriage has a kind of majesty about it which makes me offer her more deference than sympathy. her eyes are dark and flashing, and her forehead is high and calm. this is not so remarkable in me, i having been always easily appalled by dignified persons; but even dr. luther, it seems to me, is somewhat awed by this young maiden. he thinks her rather haughty and reserved. i am not sure whether it is pride or a certain maidenly dignity. i am afraid i have too much of the homely burgher cotta nature to be quite at ease with her. our grandmother would doubtless have understood her better than either our gentle mother or i, but the dear feeble form seems to have been gradually failing since that meeting with the emissaries of the bohemian church. since the wedding she has not once left her bed. she seems to live more than ever in the past, and calls people by the names she knew them in her early days, speaking of our grandfather as "franz," and calling our mother "greta" instead of "the mother." in the past she seems to live, and in that glorious present, veiled from her view by so thin a veil. towards heaven the heart, whose earthly vision is closing, is as open as ever. i sit beside her and read the bible and dr. luther's books, and gretchen says to her some of the new german hymns, dr. luther's, and his translation of john huss's hymns. to-day she made me read again and again this passage,--"christian faith is not, as some say, an empty husk in the heart until love shall quicken it; but if it be true faith, it is a sure trust and confidence in the heart whereby christ is apprehended, so that christ is the object of faith; _yea, rather even, in faith christ himself is present_. faith therefore justifieth because it apprehendeth and possesseth this treasure, christ present. wherefore christ apprehended by faith, and dwelling in the heart, is the true christian righteousness." it is strange to sit in the old house, now so quiet, with our dear blind father downstairs, and only thekla at home of all the sisters, and the light in that brave, strong heart of our grandmother growing slowly dim; or to hear the ringing sweet childish voice of gretchen repeating the hymns of this glorious new time to the failing heart of the olden time. last night, while i watched beside that sick bed, i thought much of dr. luther alone in the augustinian monastery, patiently abiding in the dwelling his teaching has emptied, sending forth thence workers and teachers throughout the world; and as i pondered what he has been to us, to fritz and eva in their lowly hallowed home, to our mother, to our grandmother, to the bohemian people, to little gretchen singing her hymns to me, to the nine rescued nuns, to aunt agnes in the convent, and christopher at his busy printing-press, to young and old, religious and secular; i wonder what the new time will bring to that brave, tender, warm heart which has set so many hearts which were in bondage free, and made life rich to so many who were poor, yet has left his own life so solitary still. xxix. eva's story. thuringian forest, _july_, . it is certainly very much happier for fritz and me to live in the pastor's house than in the castle; down among the homes of men, and the beautiful mysteries of this wonderful forest land, instead of towering high above all on a fortified height. not of course that i mean the heart may not be as lowly in the castle as in the cottage; but it seems to me a richer and more fruitful life to dwell among the people than to be raised above them. the character of the dwelling seems to symbolize the nature of the life. and what lot can be so blessed as ours? linked to all classes that we may serve our master who came to minister among all. in education equal to the nobles, or rather to the patrician families of the great cities, who so far surpass the country proprietors in culture,--in circumstances the pastor is nearer the peasant, knowing by experience what are the homely trials of straitened means. little offices of kindness can be interchanged between us. muhme trüdchen finds a pure pleasure in bringing me a basket of her new-laid eggs as an acknowledgment of fritz's visits to her sick boy; and it makes it all the sweeter to carry food to the family of the old charcoal-burner in the forest-clearing that our meals for a day or two have to be a little plainer in consequence. i think gifts which come from loving contrivance and a little self-denial, must be more wholesome to receive than the mere overflowings of a full store. and i am sure they are far sweeter to give. our lowly home seems in some sense the father's house of the village; and it is such homes, such hallowed centres of love and ministry, which god through our luther is giving back to village after village in our land. but, as fritz says, i must be careful not to build our parsonage into a pinnacle higher than any castle, just to make a pedestal for him, which i certainly sometimes detect myself doing. his gifts seem to me so rich, and his character is, i am sure, so noble, that it is natural i should picture to myself his vocation as the highest in the world. that it is the highest, however, i am secretly convinced; the highest as long as it is the lowliest. the people begin to be quite at home with us now. there are no great gates, no moat, no heavy draw-bridge between us and the peasants. our doors stand open; and timid hands which could never knock to demand admittance at castle or convent gate can venture gently to lift our latch. mothers creep to the kitchen with their sick children to ask for herbs, lotions, or drinks, which i learned to distil in the convent. and then i can ask them to sit down, and we often naturally begin to speak of him who healed the sick people with a word, and took the little children from the mothers' arms to his to bless them. sometimes, too, stories of wrong and sorrow come out to me which no earthly balm can cure, and i can point to him who only can heal because he only can forgive. then fritz says he can preach so differently from knowing the heart-cares and burdens of his flock; and the people seem to so feel differently when they meet again from the pulpit with sacred words and histories which they have grown familiar with in the home. a few of the girls come to me also to learn sewing or knitting, and to listen or learn to read bible stories. fritz meanwhile instructs the boys in the scriptures and in sacred music, because the schoolmaster is growing old and can teach the children little but a few latin prayers by rote, and to spell out the german alphabet. i could not have imagined such ignorance as we have found here. it seems, fritz says, as if the first preachers of christianity to the germans had done very much for the heart of the nation what the first settlers did for its forests, made a clearing here and there, built a church, and left the rest to its original state. the bears and wolves which prowl about the forest, and sometimes in winter venture close to the thresholds of our houses, are no wilder than the wild legends which haunt the hearts of the peasants. on sundays they attire themselves in their holiday clothes, come to hear mass, bow before the sacred host, and the crucifix, and image of the virgin, and return to continue during the week their every-day terror-worship of the spirits of the forest. they seem practically to think our lord is the god of the church and the village, while the old pagan sprites retain possession of the forest. they appear scarcely even quite to have decided st. christopher's question, "which is the _strongest_, that i may worship him?" but, alas, whether at church or in the forest, the worship they have been taught seems to have been chiefly one of fear. the cobolds and various sprites they believe will bewitch their cows, set fire to their hay-stacks, lead them astray through the forest, steal their infants from the cradle to replace them by fairy changelings. their malignity and wrath they deprecate, therefore, by leaving them gleanings of corn or nuts, by speaking of them with feigned respect, or by christian words and prayer, which they use as spells. from the almighty god they fear severer evil. he, they think, is to sit on the dreadful day of wrath on the judgment throne to demand strict account of all their misdeeds. against his wrath also they have been taught to use various remedies which seem to us little better than a kind of spiritual spells; paters, aves, penances, confessions, indulgences. to protect them against the forest sprites they have secret recourse to certain gifted persons, mostly shrivelled, solitary, weird old women (successors, fritz says, of the old pagan prophetesses), who for money perform certain rites of white magic for them; or give them written charms to wear, or teach them magic rhymes to say. to protect them against god, they used to have recourse to the priest, who performed masses for them, laid ghosts, absolved sins, promised to turn aside the vengeance of offended heaven. but in both cases they seem to have the melancholy persuasion that the ruling power is hostile to them. in both cases, religion is not so much a _worship_ as a _spell_; not an approach to god, but an interposing of something to keep off the weight of his dreaded presence. when first we began to understand this, it used to cost me many tears. "how can it be," i said one day to fritz, "that all the world seems so utterly to misunderstand god?" "there is an enemy in the world," he said, solemnly, "sowing lies about god in every heart." "yet god is mightier than satan," i said; "how is it then that no ray penetrates through the darkness from fruitful seasons, from the beauty of the spring-time, from the abundance of the harvest, from the joys of home, to show the people that god is love?" "ah, eva," he said sadly, "have you forgotten that not only is the devil in the world, but sin in the heart? he lies, indeed, about god, when he persuades us that god grudges us blessings; but he tells the truth about ourselves when he reminds us that we are sinners, under the curse of the good and loving law. the lie would not stand for an instant if it were not founded on the truth. it is only by confessing the truth, on which his falsehood is based, that we can destroy it. we must say to the peasants, 'your fear is well founded. see _on that cross_ what your sin cost!'" "but the old religion displayed the crucifix," i said. "thank god, it did--it does!" he said. "but instead of the crucifix, we have to tell of a cross from which the crucified is gone; of an empty tomb and a risen saviour; of the curse removed; of god, who gave the sacrifice, welcoming back the sufferer to the throne." we have not made much change in the outward ceremonies. only, instead of the sacrifice of the mass, we have the feast of the holy supper; no elevation of the host, no saying of private masses for the dead; and all the prayers, thanksgivings, and hymns, in german. dr. luther still retains the latin in some of the services of wittemberg, on account of its being an university town, that the youth may be trained in the ancient languages. he said he would gladly have some of the services in greek and hebrew, in order thereby to make the study of those languages as common as that of latin. but here in the forest, among the ignorant peasants, and the knights, who, for the most part, forget before old age what little learning they acquired in boyhood, fritz sees no reason whatever for retaining the ancient language; and delightful it is to watch the faces of the people when he reads the bible or luther's hymns, now that some of them begin to understand that the divine service is something in which their hearts and minds are to join, instead of a kind of magic external rite to be performed for them. it is a great delight also to us to visit chriemhild and ulrich von gersdorf at the castle. the old knight and dame hermentrud were very reserved with us at first; but the knight has always been most courteous to me, and dame hermentrud, now that she is convinced that we have no intention of trenching on her state, receives us very kindly. between us, moreover, there is another tender bond since she has allowed herself to speak of her sister beatrice, to me known only as the subdued and faded aged nun; to dame hermentrud, and the aged retainers and villagers, remembered in her bright, but early blighted, girlhood. again and again i have to tell her sister the story of her gradual awakening from uncomplaining hopelessness to a lowly and heavenly rest in christ; and of her meek and peaceful death. "great sacrifices," she said once, "have to be made to the honour of a noble lineage, frau pastorin. i also have had my sorrows;" and she opened a drawer of a cabinet, and showed me the miniature portraits of a nobleman and his young boy, her husband and son, both in armour. "these both were slain in a feud with the family to which beatrice's betrothed belonged," she said bitterly. "and should our lines ever be mingled in one?" "but are these feuds never to die out?" i said. "yes," she replied sternly, leading me to a window, from which we looked on a ruined castle in the distance. "_that_ feud has died out. the family is extinct!" "the lord christ tells us to forgive our enemies," i said quietly. "undoubtedly," she replied; "but the von bernsteins were usurpers of our rights, robbers and murderers. such wrongs must be avenged, or society would fall to pieces." towards the peasants dame hermentrud has very condescending and kindly feelings, and frequently gives us food and clothing for them, although she still doubts the wisdom of teaching them to read. "every one should be kept in his place," she says. and as yet i do not think she can form any idea of heaven, except as of a well organized community, in which the spirits of the nobles preside loftily on the heights, while the spirits of the peasants keep meekly to the valleys; the primary distinction between earth and heaven being, that in heaven all will know how to keep in their places. and no doubt in one sense she is right. but how would she like the order in which places in heaven are assigned? "_the first shall be last, and the last first._" "_he that is chief among you, let him be as he that doth serve._" among the peasants sometimes, on the other hand, fritz is startled by the bitterness of feeling which betrays itself against the lords; how the wrongs of generations are treasured up, and the name of luther is chiefly revered from a vague idea that he, the peasant's son, will set the peasants free. ah, when will god's order be established in the world, when each, instead of struggling upwards in selfish ambition, and pressing others down in mean pride--looking up to envy, and looking down to scorn--shall look up to honour and look down to help! when all shall "by love serve one another?" _september_, . we have now a guest of whom i do not dare to speak to dame hermentrud. indeed, the whole history fritz and i will never tell to any here. a few days since a worn, grey-haired old man came to our house, whom fritz welcomed as an old friend. it was priest ruprecht haller, from franconia. fritz had told me something of his history, so that i knew what he meant, when in a quivering voice he said, abruptly, taking fritz aside,-- "bertha is very ill--perhaps dying. i must never see her any more. she will not suffer it, i know. can you go and speak a few words of comfort to her?" fritz expressed his readiness to do anything in his power, and it was agreed that priest ruprecht was to stay with us that night, and that they were to start together on the morrow for the farm where bertha was at service, which lay not many miles off through the forest. but in the night i had a plan, which i determined to set going before i mentioned it to fritz, because he will often consent to a thing which is once _begun_, which he would think quite impracticable if it is only _proposed_; that is, especially as regards anything in which i am involved. accordingly, the next morning i rose very early and went to our neighbour, farmer herder, to ask him to lend us his old grey pony for the day, to bring home an invalid. he consented, and before we had finished breakfast the pony was at the door. "what is this?" said fritz. "it is farmer herder's pony to take me to the farm where bertha lives, and to bring her back," i said. "impossible, my love!" said fritz. "but you see it is already all arranged, and begun to be done," i said; "i am dressed, and the room is all ready to receive her." priest ruprecht rose from the table, and moved towards me, exclaiming fervently,-- "god bless you!" then seeming to fear that he had said what he had no right to say, he added, "god bless you for the thought. but it is too much!" and he left the room. "what would you do, eva?" fritz said, looking in much perplexity at me. "welcome bertha as a sister," i said, "and nurse her until she is well." "but how can i suffer you to be under one roof?" he said. i could not help my eyes filling with tears. "the lord jesus suffered such to anoint his feet," i said, "and she, you told me, loves him, has given up all dearest to her to keep his words. let us blot out the past as he does, and let her begin life again from our home, if god wills it so." fritz made no further objection. and through the dewy forest paths we went, we three; and with us, i think we all felt, went another, invisible, the good shepherd of the wandering sheep. never did the green glades and forest flowers and solemn pines seem to me more fresh and beautiful, and more like a holy cathedral than that morning. after a little meek resistance bertha came back with fritz and me. her sickness seemed to me to be more the decline of one for whom life's hopes and work are over, than any positive disease. and with care, the grey pony brought her safely home. never did our dear home seem to welcome us so brightly as when we led her back to it, for whom it was to be a sanctuary of rest, and refuge from bitter tongues. there was a little room over the porch which we had set apart as the guest-chamber; and very sweet it was to me that bertha should be its first inmate; very sweet to fritz and me that our home should be what our lord's heart is, a refuge for the outcast, the penitent, the solitary, and the sorrowful. such a look of rest came over her poor, worn face, when at last she was laid on her little bed! "i think i shall get well soon," she said the next morning, "and then you will let me stay and be your servant; when i am strong i can work really hard and there is something in you both which makes me feel this like home." "we will try," i said, "to find out what god would have us do." she does improve daily. yesterday she asked for some spinning, or other work to do, and it seems to cheer her wonderfully. to-day she has been sitting in our dwelling-room with her spinning-wheel. i introduced her to the villagers who come in as a friend who has been ill. they do not know her history. _january_, . it is all accomplished now. the little guest-chamber over the porch is empty again, and bertha is gone. as she was recovering fritz received a letter from priest ruprecht, which he read in silence, and then laid aside until we were alone on one of our expeditions to the old charcoal-burner's in the forest. "haller wants to see bertha once more," he said, dubiously. "and why not fritz?" i said; "why should not the old wrong as far as possible be repaired, and those who have given each other up at god's commandment, be given back to each other by his commandment?" "i have thought so often, my love," he said, "but i did not know what you would think." so after some little difficulty and delay, bertha and priest ruprecht haller were married very quietly in our village church, and went forth to a distant village in pomerania, by the baltic sea, from which dr. luther had received a request to send them a minister of the gospel. it went to my heart to see the two go forth together down the village street, those two whose youth inhuman laws and human weakness had so blighted. there was a reverence about his tenderness to her, and a wistful lowliness in hers for him, which said, "all that thou hast lost for me, as far as may be i will make up to thee in the years that remain!" but as we watched her pale face and feeble steps, and his bent, though still vigorous form, fritz took my hands as we turned back into the house, and said,-- "it is well. but it can hardly be for long!" and i could not answer him for tears. xxx. elsè's story. wittemberg, _august_, . the slow lingering months of decline are over. yesterday our grandmother died. as i looked for the last time on the face that had smiled on me from childhood, the hands which rendered so many little loving services to me, none of which can evermore be returned to her, what a sacred tenderness is thrown over all recollection of her, how each little act of thoughtful consideration and self-denial rushes back on the heart, what love i can see glowing through the anxious care which sometimes made her a little querulous, especially with my father, although never lately. can life ever be quite the same again? can we ever forget to bear tenderly with little infirmities such as those of hers which seem so blameless now, or to prize with a thankfulness which would flood with sunshine our little cares, the love which must one day be silent to us as she is now? her death seems to age us all into another generation! she lived from the middle of the old world into the full morning of the new; and a whole age of the past seems to die with her. but after seeing those bohemian deputies and knowing that fritz and eva were married, she ceased to wish to live. she had lived, she said, through two mornings of time on earth, and now she longed for the daybreak of heaven. but yesterday morning, one of us! and now one of the heavenly host! yesterday we knew every thought of her heart, every detail of her life, and now she is removed into a sphere of which we know less than of the daily life of the most ancient of the patriarchs. as dr. luther says, an infant on its mother's breast has as much understanding of the life before it, as we of the life before us after death. "yet," he saith also, "since god hath made his world of earth and sky so fair, how much fairer that imperishable world beyond!" all seems to me clear and bright after the resurrection; but _now_? where is that spirit now, so familiar to us and so dear, and now so utterly separated? dr. luther said, "a christian should say, i know that it is thus i shall journey hence; when my soul goes forth, charge is given to god's kings and high princes, who are the dear angels, to receive me and convoy me safely home. the holy scriptures, he writes, teach nothing of purgatory, but tell us that the spirits of the just enjoy the sweetest and most delightful peace and rest. how they live there, indeed, we know not, or what the place is where they dwell. but this we know assuredly, they are in no grief or pain, but rest in the grace of god. as in this life they were wont to fall softly asleep in the guard and keeping of god and the dear angels, without fear of harm, although the devils might prowl around them; so after this life do they repose in the hand of god." "_to depart and be with christ is far better._" "_to-day in paradise with me._" "_absent from the body, at home with the lord._" everything for our peace and comfort concerning those who are gone depends on what those words "_with me_" were to them and are to us. where and how they live, indeed, we know not; with whom we know. the more then, o our saviour and theirs! we know of thee, the more we know of them. with thee, indeed, the waiting-time before the resurrection can be no cold drear ante-chamber of the palace. where thou art, must be light, love, and home. precious as dr. luther's own words are, what are they at a time like this, compared with the word of god he has unveiled to us? my mother, however, is greatly cheered by these words of his, "our lord and saviour grant us joyfully to see each other again hereafter. for our faith is sure, and we doubt not that we shall see each other again with christ in a little while; since the departure from this life to be with christ is less in god's sight, than if i go from you to mansfeld, or you took leave of me to go from wittemberg to mansfeld. this is assuredly true. a brief hour of sleep and all will be changed." wittemberg, _september_, . during this month we have been able often to give thanks that the beloved feeble form is at rest. the times seem very troublous. dr. luther thinks most seriously of them. rumours have reached us for some time of an uneasy feeling among the peasantry. fritz wrote about it from the thuringian forest. the peasants, as our good elector said lately, have suffered many wrongs from their lords; and fritz says they had formed the wildest hopes of better days from dr. luther and his words. they thought the days of freedom had come. and bitter and hard it is for them to learn that the gospel brings freedom now as of old by giving strength to suffer, instead of by suddenly redressing wrong. the fanatics, moreover, have been among them. the zwickau prophets and thomas münzer (silenced last year at wittemberg by luther's return from the wartburg), have promised them all they actually expected from luther. once more, they say, god is sending inspired men on earth, to introduce a new order of things, no more to teach the saints how to bow, suffer, and be patient; but how to fight and avenge themselves of their adversaries, and to reign. _october_, . now, alas, the peasants are in open revolt, rushing through the land by tens of thousands. the insurrection began in the black forest, and now it sweeps throughout the land, gathering strength as it advances, and bearing everything before it by the mere force of numbers and movements. city after city yields and admits them, and swears to their twelve articles, which in themselves they say are not so bad, if only they were enforced by better means. castle after castle is assailed and falls. ulrich writes in burning indignation at the cruel deaths they have inflicted on noble men and women, and on their pillaging the convents. fritz, on the other hand, writes entreating us not to forget the long catalogue of legalized wrongs which had lead to this moment of fierce and lawless vengeance. dr. luther, although sympathizing with the peasants by birth, and by virtue of his own quick and generous indignation at injustice, whilst with a prophet's plainness he blames the nobles for their exactions and tyranny, yet sternly demands the suppression of the revolt with the sword. he says this is essential, if it were only to free the honest and well-meaning peasantry from the tyranny of the ambitious and turbulent men who compel them to join their banner on pain of death. with a heart that bleeds at every severity, he counsels the severest measures as the most merciful. more than once he and others of the wittemberg doctors have succeeded in quieting and dispersing riotous bands of the peasants assembled by tens of thousands, with a few calm and earnest words. but bitter, indeed, are these times to him. the peasants whom he pities, and because he pities condemns, call out that he has betrayed them, and threaten his life. the prelates and princes of the old religion declare all this disorder and pillage are only the natural consequences of his false doctrine. but between them both he goes steadfastly forward, speaking faithful words to all. more and more, however, as terrible rumours reach us of torture, and murder, and wild pillage, he seems to become convinced that mercy and vigour are on the same side. and now he, whose journey through germany not three years since was a triumphal procession, has to ride secretly from place to place on his errands of peace-making, in danger of being put to death by the people if he were discovered! my heart aches for these peasants. these are not the pharisees who were "_not blind_," but understood only too well what they rejected. they are the "multitudes," the common people, who as of old heard the voice of love and truth gladly; for whom dying he pleaded, "they know not what they do." _april_, . the tide has turned. the army of the empire, under truchsess, is out. phillip of hesse, after quieting his own dominions, is come to saxony to suppress the revolt here. our own gentle and merciful elector, who so reluctantly drew the sword, is, they say, dying. the world is full of change! meantime, in our little wittemberg world, changes are in prospect. it seems probable that dr. luther, after settling the other eight nuns, and endeavouring also to find a home for catherine von bora, will espouse her himself. a few months since he tried to persuade her to marry glatz, pastor of orlamund, but she refused. and now it seems certain that the solitary augustinian convent will become a home, and that she will make it so. gottfried and i cannot but rejoice. in this world of tumult and unrest, it seems so needful that that warm, earnest heart should have one place where it can rest, one heart that will understand and be true to him if all else should become estranged, as so many have. and this, we trust, catherine von bora will be to him. reserved, and with an innate dignity, which will befit the wife of him whom god has called in so many ways to be the leader of the hearts of men, she has a spirit which will prevent her sinking into the mere reflection of that resolute character, and a cheerfulness and womanly tact which will, we hope, sustain him through many a depressing hour, such as those who wear earth's crowns of any kind must know. _december_, . this year has, indeed, been a year of changes. the peasant revolt is crushed. at frankenhausen, the last great victory was gained. thomas münzer was slain, and his undisciplined hosts fled in hopeless confusion. the revolt is crushed, alas! gottfried says, as men too generally crush their enemies when once in their power, exceeding the crime in the punishment, and laying up a store of future revolt and vengeance for future generations. the good and wise elector friedrich died just before the victory. it is well, perhaps, that he did not live to see the terrible vengeance that has been inflicted, the roadsteads lined with gibbets, torture returned by torture, insult by cruel mocking. the poor deluded people, especially the peasantry, wept for the good elector, and said, "ah, god, have mercy on us! we have lost our father!" he used to speak kindly to their children in the fields, and was always ready to listen to a tale of wrong. he died humbly as a christian; he was buried royally as a prince. shortly before his death, his chaplain, spalatin, came to see him. the elector gave him his hand, and said, "you do well to come to me. we are commanded to visit the sick." neither brother nor any near relative was with him when he died. the services of all brave men were needed in those stormy days. but he was not forsaken. to the childless, solitary sufferer, his faithful servants were like a family. "oh, dear children," he said, "i suffer greatly!" then joachim sack, one of his household, a silesian, said,-- "most gracious master, if god will, you will soon be better." shortly after the dying prince said,-- "dear children, i am ill indeed." and sack answered,-- "gracious lord, the almighty god sends you all this with a father's love, and with the best will to you." then the prince repeated softly, in latin, the words of job, "the lord gave, and the lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the lord." and once more he said,-- "dear children, i am very ill." and the faithful joachim comforted him again,--"my gracious master, the almighty god, sends it all to your electoral highness from the greatest love." the prince clasped his hands, and said,-- "_for that i can trust my good god!_" and added, "help me, help me, o my god." and after receiving the holy communion in both kinds, he called his servants around him, and said,-- "dear children, i entreat you, that in whatever i have done you wrong, by word or deed, you will forgive me for god's sake, and pray others to do the same. for we princes do much wrong often to poor people that should not be." as he spoke thus, all that were in the room could not restrain their tears, and seeing that, he said,-- "dear children, weep not for me. it will not be long with me now. but think of me, and pray to god for me." spalatin had copied some verses of the bible for him, which he put on his spectacles to read for himself. he thought much of luther, whom, much as he had befriended him, he had never spoken to, and sent for him. but it was in vain. luther was on the hartz mountains, endeavouring to quell the peasants' revolt. that interview is deferred to the world where all earthly distinctions are forgotten, but where the least christian services are remembered. so, "a child of peace," as one said, he departed, and rests in peace, through the high and only merits of the only son of god, in whom, in his last testament, he confessed was "all his hope." it was a solemn day for wittemberg when they laid him in his grave in the electoral church, which he had once so richly provided with relics. his body lying beneath it is the most sacred relic it enshrines for us now. knights and burghers met the coffin at the city gate; eight noblemen carried it, and a long train of mourners passed through the silent streets. many chanted around the tomb the old latin hymns, "in media vitæ," and "si bona suscipimur," and also the german, "from deepest need i cry to thee," and-- "in fried und freud fahr ich dahin." "i journey hence in peace and joy." the money which would in former times have purchased masses for his soul, was given to the poor. and dr. luther preached a sermon on that promise, "those who sleep in jesus, god will bring with him," which makes it needless, indeed, to pray for the repose of those who thus sleep. gretchen asked me in the evening what the hymn meant,-- "i journey hence in peace and joy." i told her it was the soul of the prince that thus journeyed hence. "the procession was so dark and sad," she said, "the words did not seem to suit." "that procession was going to the grave," said thekla, who was with us. "there was another procession, which we could not see, going to heaven. the holy angels, clothed in radiant white, were carrying the happy spirit to heaven, and singing, as they went, anthems such as that, while we were weeping here." "i should like to see that procession of the dear angels, aunt thekla," said gretchen. "mother says the good elector had no little children to love him, and no one to call him any tenderer name than 'your electoral highness' when he died. but on the other side of the grave he will not be lonely, will he? the holy angels will have tender names for him there, will they not?" "the lord jesus will, at all events," i said. "he calleth his own sheep by name." and gretchen was comforted for the elector. * * * * * not long after that day of mourning came a day of rejoicing to our household, and to all the friendly circle at wittemberg. quietly, in our house, on june the d, dr. luther and catherine von bora were married. a few days afterwards the wedding feast was held on the home-bringing of the bride to the augustinian cloister, which, together with "twelve brewings of beer yearly," the good elector john frederic has given luther as a wedding present. brave old john luther and his wife, and luther's pious mother came to the feast from mansfeld, and a day of much festivity it was to all. and now for six months, what luther calls "that great thing, the union and communion between husband and wife," hath hallowed the old convent into a home, whilst the prayer of faith and the presence of him whom faith sees, have consecrated the home into a sanctuary of love and peace. many precious things hath dr. luther said of marriage. god, he says, has set the type of marriage before us throughout all creation. each creature seeks its perfection through being blent with another. the very heaven and earth picture it to us, for does not the sky embrace the green earth as its bride? "precious, excellent, glorious," he says, "is that word of the holy ghost, 'the heart of the husband doth safely trust in her.'" he says also, that so does he honour the married state, that before he thought of marrying his catherine, he had resolved, if he should be laid suddenly on his dying bed, to be espoused before he died, and to give two silver goblets to the maiden as his wedding and dying gift. and lately he counselled one who was to be married, "dear friend, do thou as i did, when i would take my käthe. i prayed to our lord god with all my heart. a good wife is a companion of life, and her husband's solace and joy, and when a pious man and wife love each other truly, the devil has little power to hurt them. "all men," he said, "believe and understand that marriage is marriage, a hand a hand, riches are riches; but to believe that marriage is of god, and ordered and appointed by god; that the hand is made by god, that wealth and all we have and are is given by god, and is to be used as his work to his praise, that is not so commonly believed. and a good wife," he said, "should be loved and honoured, firstly, because she is god's gift and present: secondly, because god has endowed women with noble and great virtues, which, when they are modest, faithful, and believing, far overbalance their little failings and infirmities." wittemberg, _december_, . another year all but closed--a year of mingled storm and sunshine? the sorrow we dreaded for our poor thekla is come at last too surely. bertrand de créquy is dead! he died in a prison alone, for conscience' sake, but at peace in god. a stranger from flanders brought her a few words of farewell in his handwriting, and afterwards saw him dead, so that she cannot doubt. she seems to move about like one walking in a dream, performing every common act of life as before, but with the soul asleep. we are afraid what will be the end of it. gold help her! she is now gone for the christmas to eva and fritz. sad divisions have sprung up among the evangelical christians. dr. luther is very angry at some doctrines of karlstadt and the swiss brethren concerning the holy sacraments, and says they will be wise above what is written. we grieve at these things, especially as our atlantis has married a swiss, and dr. luther will not acknowledge them as brethren. our poor atlantis is much perplexed, and writes that she is sure her husband meaneth not to undervalue the holy supper, and that in very truth they find their saviour present there as we do. but dr. luther is very stern about it. he fears disorders and wild opinions will be brought in again, such as led to the slaughter of the peasants' war. yet he himself is sorely distressed about it, and saith often that the times are so evil the end of the world is surely drawing nigh. in the midst of all this perplexity, we who love him rejoice that he has that quiet home in the augustei, where "lord käthe," as he calls her, and her little son hänschen reign, and where the dear, holy angels, as luther says, watch over the cradle of the child. it was a festival to all wittemberg when little hans luther was born. luther's house is like the sacred hearth of wittemberg and of all the land. there in the winter evenings he welcomes his friends to the cheerful room with the large window, and sometimes they sing good songs or holy hymns in parts, accompanied by the lute and harp, music at which dr. luther is sure king david would be amazed and delighted, could he rise from his grave, "since there can have been none so fine in his days." "the devil," he says, "always flies from music, especially from sacred music, because he is a despairing spirit, and cannot bear joy and gladness." and in the summer days he sits under the pear tree in his garden, while käthe works beside him; or he plants seeds and makes a fountain; or he talks to her and his friends about the wonders of beauty god has set in the humblest flowers, and the picture of the resurrection he gives us in every delicate twig that in spring bursts from the dry brown stems of winter. more and more we see what a good wife god has given him in catherine von bora, with her cheerful, firm, and active spirit, and her devoted affection for him. already she has the management of all the finance of the household, a very necessary arrangement, if the house of luther is not to go to ruin, for dr. luther would give everything, even to his clothes and furniture, to any one in distress, and he will not receive any payment either for his books or for teaching the students. she is a companion for him, moreover, and not a mere listener, which he likes, however much he may laugh at her eloquence, "in her own department surpassing cicero's," and sarcastically relate how when first they were married, not knowing what to say, but wishing to "make conversation," she used to say, as she sat at her work beside him, "herr doctor, is not the lord high chamberlain in prussia the brother of the margrave?" hoping that such high discourse would not be too trifling for him! he says, indeed, that if he were to seek an obedient wife, he would carve one for himself out of stone. but the belief among us is, that there are few happier homes than dr. luther's; and if at any time catherine finds him oppressed with a sadness too deep for her ministry to reach, she quietly creeps out and calls justus jones, or some other friend, to come and cheer the doctor. often, also, she reminds him of the letters he has to write; and he likes to have her sitting by him while he writes, which is a proof sufficient that she can be silent when necessary, whatever jests the doctor may make about her "long sermons, which she certainly never would have made, if, like other preachers, she had taken the precaution of beginning with the lord's prayer!" the christian married life, as he says, "is a humble and a holy life," and well, indeed, is it for our german reformation that its earthly centre is neither a throne, nor a hermitage, but a lowly christian home. parsonage of gersdorf, _june_, . i am staying with eva while fritz is absent making a journey of inspection of the schools throughout saxony at dr. luther's desire, with dr. philip melancthon, and many other learned men. dr. luther has set his heart on improving the education of the children, and is anxious to have some of the revenues of the suppressed convents appropriated to this purpose before all are quietly absorbed by the nobles and princes for their own uses. it is a renewal of youth to me, in my sober middle age, to be here along with eva, and yet not alone. for the terror of my youth is actually under our roof with me. _aunt agnes_ is an inmate of fritz's home! during the pillaging of the convents and dispersing of the nuns, which took place in the dreadful peasants' war, she was driven from nimptschen, and after spending a few weeks with our mother at wittemberg, has finally taken refuge with eva and fritz. but eva's little twin children, heinz and agnes, will associate a very different picture with the name of aunt agnes from the rigid lifeless face and voice which used to haunt my dreams of a religious life, and make me dread the heaven, of whose inhabitants, i was told, aunt agnes was a type. perhaps the white hair softens the high but furrowed brow; yet surely there was not that kindly gleam in the grave eyes i remember, or that tender tone in the voice. is it an echo of the voices of the little ones she so dearly loves, and a reflection of the sunshine in their eyes? no; better than that even, i know, because eva told me. it is the smile and the music of a heart made as that of a little child through believing in the saviour. it is the peace of the pharisee, who has won the publican's blessing by meekly taking the publican's place. i confess, however, i do not think aunt agnes's presence improves the discipline of eva's household. she is exceedingly slow to detect any traces of original sin in eva's children, while to me, on the contrary, the wonder is that any creature so good and exemplary as eva should have children so much like other people's--even mine. one would have thought that her infants would have been a kind of half angels, taking naturally to all good things, and never doing wrong except by mistake in a gentle and moderate way. whereas, i must say, i hear frequent little wails of rebellion from eva's nursery, especially at seasons of ablution, much as from mine; and i do not think even our fritz ever showed more decided pleasure in mischief, or more determined self-will, than eva's little rosy heinz. one morning after a rather prolonged little battle between heinz and his mother about some case of oppression of little agnes, i suggested to aunt agnes-- "only to think that eva, if she had kept to her vocation, might have attained to the full ideal of the theologia teutsch, have become a st. elizabeth, or indeed far better?" aunt agnes looked up quickly-- "and you mean to say she is not better now! you imagine that spinning meditations all day long is more christian work for a woman than training these little ones for god, and helping them to fight their first battles with the devil!" "perhaps not, aunt agnes," i said, "but then, you see, i know nothing of the inside of a convent." "_i do_," said aunt agnes emphatically, "and also the inside of a nun's heart. and i know what wretched work we make of it when we try to take our education out of our heavenly father's hands into our own. do you think," she continued, "eva did not learn more in the long nights when she watched over her sick child than she could have learned in a thousand self-imposed vigils before any shrine? and to-night, when she kneels with heinz, as she will, and says with him, 'pray god forgive little heinz for being a naughty boy to-day,' and lays him on his pillow, and as she watches him fall asleep, asks god to bless and train the wilful little one, and then asks for pardon herself, do you not think she learns more of what 'forgiveness' means and 'our father' than from a year's study of the theologia teutsch?" i smiled and said, "dear aunt agnes, if fritz wants to hear eva's praises well sung, i will tell him to suggest to you whether it might not have been a higher vocation for her to remain a nun!" "ah! child," said aunt agnes, with a little mingling of the old sternness, and the new tenderness in her voice, "if you had learned what i have from those lips, and in this house, you could not, even in jest, bear to hear a syllable of reflection on either." indeed, even aunt agnes cannot honour this dear home more than i do. open to every peasant who has a sorrow or a wrong to tell, it is also linked with the castle; and linked to both, not by any class privileges, but because here peasants and nobles alike are welcomed as men and women, and as christian brothers and sisters. now and then we pay a visit to the castle, where our noble sister chriemhild is enthroned. but my tastes have always been burgher like, and the parsonage suits me much better than the castle. besides, i cannot help feeling some little awe of dame hermentrud, especially when my two boys are with me, they being apt to indulge in a burgher freedom in their demeanour. the furniture and arrangements of the castle are a generation behind our own at wittemberg, and i cannot at all make the boys comprehend the majesty of the gersdorf ancestry, nor the necessary inferiority of people who live in streets to those who live in isolated rock fortresses. so that i am reduced to the bible law of "honour to grey hairs" to enforce due respect to dame hermentrud. little fritz wants to know what the gersdorf ancestry are renowned for. "was it for learning?" he asked. i thought not, as it is only this generation who have learned to read, and the old knight even is suspected of having strong reasons for preferring listening to ulrich's reading to using a book for himself. "was it then for courage?" "certainly, the gersdorfs had always been brave." "with whom, then, had they fought?" "at the time of the crusades, i believed, against the infidels." "and since then?" i did not feel sure, but looking at the ruined castle of bernstein and the neighbouring height, i was afraid it was against their neighbours. and so, after much cross questioning, the distinctions of the gersdorf family seemed to be chiefly reduced to their having been gersdorfs, and having lived at gersdorf for a great many hundred years. then fritz desired to know in what way his cousins, the gersdorfs of this generation, are to distinguish themselves? this question also was a perplexity to me, as i know it often is to chriemhild. they must not on any account be merchants; and now that in the evangelical church the great abbeys are suppressed, and some of the bishoprics are to be secularized, it is hardly deemed consistent with gersdorf dignity that they should become clergymen. the eldest will have the castle. one of them may study civil law. for the others nothing seems open but the idling dependent life of pages and military attendants in the castles of some of the greater nobles. if the past is the inheritance of the knights, it seems to me the future is far more likely to be the possession of the active burgher families. i cannot but feel thankful for the lot which opens to our boys honourable spheres of action in the great cities of the empire. there seems no room for expansion in the life of those petty nobles. while the patrician families of the cities are sailing on the broad current of the times, encouraging art, advancing learning, themselves sharing all the thought and progress of the time, these knightly families in the country remain isolated in their grim castles ruling over a few peasants, and fettered to a narrow local circle, while the great current of the age sweeps by them. gottfried says, narrow and ill-used privileges always end in ruining those who bigotedly cling to them. the exclusiveness which begins by shutting others out, commonly ends in shutting the exclusive in. the lordly fortress becomes the narrow prison. all these thoughts passed through my mind as i left the rush-strewn floor of the hall where dame hermentrud had received me and my boys, with a lofty condescension, while, in the course of the interview, i had heard her secretly remarking to chriemhild how unlike the cousins were; "it was quite singular how entirely the gersdorf children were unlike the cottas!" but it was not until i entered eva's lowly home, that i detected the bitter root of wounded pride from which my deep social speculations sprang. i had been avenging myself on the schönberg-gersdorf past by means of the cotta-reichenbach future. yes; fritz and eva's lowly home is nobler than chriemhild's, and richer than ours; richer and nobler just in as far as it is more lowly and more christian! and i learned my lesson after this manner. "dame hermentrud is very proud," i said to eva, as i returned from the castle and sat down beside her in the porch, where she was sewing; "and i really cannot see on what ground." eva made no reply, but a little amused smile played about her mouth, which for the moment rather aggravated me. "do you mean to say she is _not_ proud, eva?" i continued controversially. "i did not mean to say that any one was not proud," said eva. "did you mean then to imply that she has anything to be proud of?" "there are all the ghosts of all the gersdorfs," said eva; "and there is the high ancestral privilege of wearing velvet and pearls, which you and i dare not assume." "surely," said i, "the privilege of possessing lucas cranach's pictures, and albrecht dürer's carvings, is better than that." "perhaps it is," said eva demurely; "perhaps wealth is as firm ground for pride to build on as ancestral rank. those who have neither, like fritz and i, may be the most candid judges." i laughed, and felt a cloud pass from my heart. eva had dared to call the sprite which vexed me by his right name, and like any other gnome or cobold, he vanished instantly. thank god our eva is cousin eva again, instead of sister ave; that her single heart is here among us to flash the light on our consciences just by shining, instead of being hidden under a saintly canopy in the shrine of some distant convent. _july_, . fritz is at home. it was delightful to see what a festival his return was, not only in the home, but in the village--the children running to the doors to receive a smile, the mothers stopping in their work to welcome him. the day after his return was sunday. as usual, the children of the village were assembled at five o'clock in the morning to church. among them were our boys, and chriemhild's, and eva's twins, heinz and agnes--rosy, merry children of the forest as they are. all, however, looked as good and sweet as if they had been children of eden, as they tripped that morning after each other over the village green, their bright little forms passing in and out of the shadow of the great beech-tree which stands opposite the church. the little company all stood together in the church before the altar, while fritz stood on the step and taught them. at first they sang a hymn, the elder boys in latin, and then all together in german; and then fritz heard them say luther's catechism. how sweetly the lisping, childish voices answered his deep, manly voice; like the rustling of the countless summer leaves outside, or the fall of the countless tiny cascades of the village stream in the still summer morning. "my dear child, what art thou?" he said. answer from the score of little hushed, yet ringing voices-- "i am a christian." "how dost thou know that?" "because i am baptized, and believe on my dear lord jesus christ." "what is it needful that a christian should know for his salvation?" answer--"the catechism." and afterwards, in the part concerning the christian faith, the sweet voices repeated the creed in german. "i believe in god the father almighty." and fritz's voice asked gently-- "what does that mean?" answer--"i believe that god has created me and all creatures; has given me body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my limbs, reason, and all my senses, and still preserves them to me; and that he has also given me my clothes and my shoes, and whatsoever i eat or drink; that richly and daily he provides me with all needful nourishment for body and life, and guards me from all danger and evil; and all this out of pure fatherly divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or deserving of mine. and for all this i am bound to thank and praise him, and also to serve and obey him. this is certainly true." again-- "i believe in jesus christ," &c. "what does that mean?" "i believe that jesus christ, true god, begotten of the father from eternity, and also true man, born of the virgin mary, is my lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned human creature, has purchased and won me from all sins, from death and from the power of the devil, not with silver and gold, but with his own holy precious blood, and with his innocent suffering and dying, that i may be his own, and i live in his kingdom under him, and serve him in endless righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, even as he is risen from the dead, and lives and reigns forever. this is certainly true." and again, "i believe in the holy ghost." "what does that mean?" "i believe that not by my own reason or power can i believe on jesus christ my lord, or come to him; but the holy ghost has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the right faith, as he calls all christian people on earth, gathers, enlightens, sanctifies them, and through jesus keeps them in the right and only faith, among which christian people he daily richly forgives all sins, to me and all believers, and at the last day will awaken me and all the dead, and to me and all believers in christ will give eternal life. this is certainly true." and again, on the lord's prayer, the children's voices began,-- "our father who art in heaven." "what does that mean?" "god will in this way sweetly persuade us to believe that he is our true father, and that we are his true children; that cheerfully and with all confidence we may ask of him as dear children ask of their dear fathers." and at the end, "what does amen mean?" "that i should be sure such prayers are acceptable to the father in heaven, and granted by him, for he himself has taught us thus to pray, and promised that he will hear us. amen, amen--that means, _yes, yes, that shall be done_." and when it was asked,-- "who receives the holy sacrament worthily?" softly came the answer,-- "he is truly and rightly prepared who has faith in these words, 'given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.' but he who doubts or disbelieves these words, is unworthy and unprepared; for the words, '_for you_,' need simple believing hearts." as i listened to the simple living words, i could not wonder that dr. luther often repeats them to himself, or rather, as he says, '_to god_,' as an antidote to the fiery darts of the wicked one. and so the childish voices died away in the morning stillness of the church, and the shadow of the bell-tower fell silently across the grassy mounds or wooden crosses beneath which rest the village dead; and as we went home, the long shadow of the beech-tree fell on the dewy village green. then, before eleven o'clock, the church bell began to ring, and the peasants came trooping from the different clearings of the forest. one by one we watched the various groups in their bright holiday dresses, issuing out of the depths of dark green shade, among them, doubtless, many a branch of the luther family who live in this neighbourhood. afterwards each door in the village poured out its contributions, and soon the little church was full, the men and women seated on the opposite sides of the church, and the aged gathered around the pulpit. fritz's text was eva's motto, "_god so loved the world._" simply, with illustrations such as they could understand, he spoke to them of god's infinite love, and the infinite cost at which he had redeemed us, and of the love and trust and obedience we owe him, and, according to dr. luther's advice he did not speak too long, but "called black black, and white white, keeping to one simple subject, so that the people may go away and say, '_the sermon was about this._'" for, as i heard dr. luther say, "we must not speak to the common people of high difficult things, or with mysterious words. to the church come little children, maid-servants, old men and women, to whom high doctrine teaches nothing. for, if they say about it, 'ah, he said excellent things, he has made a fine sermon!' and one asks, 'what about, then?' they reply, 'i know not.' let us remember what pains our lord christ took to preach simply. from the vineyard, from the sheepfold, from trees, he drew his illustrations, all that the people might feel and understand." that sermon of fritz's left a deep rest in my heart. he spoke not of justification, and redemption merely, but of the living god redeeming and justifying us. greater service can no one render us than to recall to us what god has done for us, and how he really and tenderly cares for us. in the afternoon, the children were gathered for a little while in the school-room, and questioned about the sermon. at sunset again we all met for a short service in the church, and sang evening hymns in german, after which the pastor pronounced the benediction, and the little community scattered once more to their various homes. with the quiet sunshine, and the light shed on the home by fritz's return, to-day seemed to me almost like a day in paradise. thank god again and again for dr. luther, and especially for these two great benefits given back to us through him--first, that he has unsealed the fountain of god's word from the icy fetters of the dead language, and sent it flowing through the land, everywhere wakening winter into spring; and secondly, that he has vindicated the sanctity of marriage and the home life it constitutes; unsealing the grave-stones of the convent gates, and sending forth the religion entranced and buried there to bless the world in a thousand lowly, holy, christian homes such as this. xxxi. thekla's story. wittemberg, _september_, . i have said it from my heart at last! yes, i am sure i say it from my heart, and if with a broken heart, god will not despise that. "_our father_ which art in heaven, _thy will, not mine be done_." i thought i could bear anything better than suspense; but i had no idea what a blank of despair the certainty would bring. then came dreadful rebellious thoughts, that god should let him die alone; and then recurred to my heart all they had said to me about not making idols, and i began to fear i had never really loved or worshipped god at all, but only bertrand; and then came a long time of blank and darkness into which no light of human or divine love or voices of comfort seemed in the least to penetrate. i thought god would never receive me until i could say, "thy will be done," and this i could not say. the first words i remember that seemed to convey any meaning at all to me were some of dr. luther's in a sermon. he said it was easy to believe in god's pardoning love in times of peace, but in times of temptation when the devil assailed the soul with all his fiery darts, he himself found it hard, indeed, to hold to the truth he knew so well, that christ was not a severe judge, or a hard exactor, but a forgiving saviour, indeed love itself, pure unalterable love. then i began to understand it was _the devil_, the malignant exacting evil spirit that i had been listening to in the darkness of my heart, that it was he who had been persuading me i must not dare to go to my father, before i could bring him a perectly submissive heart. and then i remembered the words, "come unto me, ye that are weary and heavy laden;" and, alone in my room, i fell on my knees, and cried, "o blessed saviour, o heavenly father, i am not submissive; but i am weary, weary and heavy-laden; and i come to thee. wilt thou take me as i am, and teach me in time to say, 'thy will be done!'" and he received me, and in time he has taught me. at least i can say so to-night. to-morrow, perhaps, the old rebellion will come back. but if it does, i will go again to our heavenly father and say again, "not submissive yet, only heavy-laden! father, take my hand, and say, begin again!" because amidst all these happy homes i felt so unnecessary to any one, and so unutterably lonely. i longed for the old convents to bury myself in, away from all joyous sounds. but, thank god, they were closed for me; and i do not wish for them now. dr. luther began to help me by showing me how the devil had been keeping me from god. and now god has helped me by sending through my heart again a glow of thankfulness and love. the plague has been at wittemberg again. dr. luther's house has been turned into an hospital; for dear as are his käthe and his little hans to him, he would not flee from the danger, any more than years ago, when he was a monk in the convent which is now his home. and what a blessing his strong and faithful words have been among us, from the pulpit, by the dying bed, or in the house of mourning. but it is through my precious mother chiefly that god has spoken to my heart, and made me feel he does indeed sustain, and care, and listen. she was so nearly gone. and now she is recovering. they say the danger is over. and never more will i say in my heart, "to me only god gives no home," or fear to let my heart entwine too closely round those god has left me to love, because of the anguish when that clasp is severed. i will take the joy and the love with all its possibilities of sorrow, and trust in god for both. perhaps, also, god may have some little work of love for me to do, some especial service even for me, to make me needed in the world as long as i am here. for to-day justus jonas, who has lost his little son in the plague, came to me and said,-- "thekla, come and see my wife. she says you can comfort her, for you can comprehend sorrow." of course i went. i do not think i said anything to comfort her. i could do little else but weep with her, as i looked on the little, innocent, placid, lifeless face. but when i left her she said i had done her good, and begged me to come again. so, perhaps, god has some blessed services for me to render him, which i could only have learned as he has taught me; and when we meet hereafter, bertrand and i, and hear that dear divine and human voice that has led us through the world, we _together_ shall be glad of all this bitter pain that we endured and felt, and give thanks for it for ever and for ever! xxxii. elsè's story. wittemberg, _may_, . of all the happy homes god has given to germany through dr. luther, i think none are happier than his own. the walls of the augustine convent echo now with the pattering feet and ringing voices of little children, and every night the angels watch over the sanctuary of a home. the birthdays of dr. luther's children are festivals to us all, and more especially the birthday of little hans the first-born was so. yet death also has been in that bright home. their second child, a babe, elizabeth, was early taken from her parents. dr. luther grieved over her much. a little while after her death he wrote to his friend hausmann: "grace and peace. my johannulus thanks thee, best nicholas, for the rattle, in which he glories and rejoices wondrously. "i have begun to write something about the turkish war, which will not, i hope, be useless. "my little daughter is dead; my darling little elizabeth. it is strange how sick and wounded she has left my heart, almost as tender as a woman's, such pity moves me for that little one. i never could have believed before what is the tenderness of a father's heart for his children. do thou pray to the lord for me, in whom fare-thee-well." catherine von bora is honoured and beloved by all. some indeed complain of her being too economical; but what would become of dr. luther and his family if she were as reckless in giving as he is? he has been known even to take advantage of her illness to bestow his plate on some needy student. he never will receive a kreuzer from the students he teaches, and he refuses to sell his writings, which provokes both gottfried and me, noble as it is of him, because the great profits they bring would surely be better spent by dr. luther than by the printers who get them now. our belief is, that were it not for mistress luther, the whole household would have long since been reduced to beggary, and dr. luther, who does not scruple to beg of the elector or of any wealthy person for the needs of others (although never for his own), knows well how precarious such a livelihood is. his wife does not, however, always succeed in restraining his propensities to give everything away. not long ago, in defiance of her remonstrating looks, in her presence he bestowed on a student who came to him asking money to help him home from the university, a silver goblet which had been presented to him, saying that he had no need to drink out of silver. we all feel the tender care with which she watches over his health, a gift to the whole land. his strength has never quite recovered the strain on it during those years of conflict and penance in the monastery at erfurt. and it is often strained to the utmost now. all the monks and nuns who have renounced their idle maintenance in convents for conscience' sake; all congregations that desire an evangelical pastor; all people of all kinds in trouble of mind, body, or estate, turn to dr. luther for aid or counsel, as to the warmest heart and the clearest head in the land. his correspondence is incessant, embracing and answering every variety of perplexity, from counselling evangelical princes how best to reform their states, to directions to some humble christian woman how to find peace for her conscience in christ. and besides the countless applications to him for advice, his large heart seems always at leisure to listen to the appeal of the persecuted far and near, or to the cry of the bereaved and sorrowful. where shall we find the spring of all this activity but in the _bible_, of which he says, "there are few trees in that garden which i have not shaken for fruit;" and in _prayer_, of which he, the busiest man in christendom, (as if he were a contemplative hermit) says, "prayer is the christian's business (das gebet ist des christen handwerk)." yes, it is the leisure he makes for prayer which gives leisure for all besides. it is the hours passed with the life-giving word which make sermons, and correspondence, and teaching of all kinds to him simply the out-pouring of a full heart. yet such a life wears out too quickly. more than once has mistress luther been in sore anxiety about him during the four years they have been married. once, in , when little hans was the baby, and he believed he should soon have to leave her a widow with the fatherless little one, he said rather sadly he had nothing to leave her but the silver tankards which had been presented to him. "dear doctor," she replied, "if it be god's will, then i also choose that you be with him rather than me. it is not so much i and my child even that need you as the multitude of pious christians. trouble yourself not about me." what her courageous hopefulness and her tender watchfulness have been to him, he showed when he said,-- "i am too apt to expect more from my käthe, and from melancthon, than i do from christ, my lord. and yet i well know that neither they nor any one on earth has suffered, or can suffer, what he hath suffered for me." but although incessant work may weigh upon his body, there are severer trials which weigh upon his spirit. the heart so quick to every touch of affection or pleasure cannot but be sensitive to injustice or disappointment. it cannot therefore be easy for him to bear that at one time it should be perilous for him to travel on account of the indignation of the nobles, whose relatives he has rescued from nunneries; and at another time equally unsafe because of the indignation of the peasants, for whom, though he boldly and openly denounced their made insurrection, he pleads fervently with nobles and princes. but bitterer than all other things to him, are the divisions among evangelical christians. every truth he believes flashes on his mind with such overwhelming conviction that it seems to him nothing but incomprehensible wilfulness for any one else not to see it. every conviction he holds, he holds with the grasp of one ready to die for it--not only with the tenacity of possession, but of a soldier to whom its defence has been intrusted. he would not, indeed, have any put to death or imprisoned for their misbelief. but hold out the hand of fellowship to those who betray any part of his lords trust, he thinks,--how dare he? are a few peaceable days to be purchased at the sacrifice of eternal truth? and so the division has taken place between us and the swiss. my gretchen perplexed me the other day, when we were coming from the city church, where dr. luther had been preaching against the anabaptists and the swiss, (whom he will persist in classing together,) by saying,-- "mother, is not uncle winkelried a swiss, and is he not a good man?" "of course uncle conrad is a good man, gretchen," rejoined our fritz, who had just returned from a visit to atlantis and conrad. "how can you ask such questions?" "but he is a swiss, and dr. luther said we must take care not to be like the swiss, because they say wicked things about the holy sacraments." "i am sure uncle conrad does not say wicked things," retorted fritz, vehemently. "i think he is almost the best man i ever saw. mother," he continued, "why does dr. luther speak so of the swiss?" "you see, fritz," i said, "dr. luther never stayed six months among them as you did; and so he has never seen how good they are at home." "then," rejoined fritz, sturdily, "if dr. luther has not seen them, i do not think he should speak so of them." i was driven to have recourse to maternal authority to close the discussion, reminding fritz that he was a little boy, and could not pretend to judge of good and great men, like dr. luther. but, indeed, i could not help half agreeing with the child. it was impossible to make him understand how dr. luther has fought his way inch by inch to the freedom in which we now stand at ease; how he detests the zwinglian doctrines, not so much for themselves, as for what he thinks they imply. how will it be possible to make our children, who enter on the peaceful inheritance so dearly won, understand the rough, soldierly vehemence, of the warrior race, who re-conquered that inheritance for them? as dr. luther says, "it is not a little thing to change the whole religion and doctrine of the papacy. how hard it has been to me, they will see in that day. now no one believes it!" god appointed david to fight the wars of israel, and solomon to build the temple. dr. luther has had to do both. what wonder if the hand of the soldier can sometimes be traced in the work of peace! yet, why should i perplex myself about this? soon, too soon, death will come, and consecrate the virtues of our generation to our children, and throw a softening veil over our mistakes. even now that dr. luther is absent from us at coburg, in the castle there, how precious his letters are; and how doubly sacred the words he preached to us last sunday from the pulpit, now that to-morrow we are not to hear him. he is placed in the castle at coburg, in order to be nearer the diet at augsburg, so as to aid dr. melancthon, who is there, with his counsel. the elector dare not trust the royal heart and straightforward spirit of our luther among the prudent diplomatists at the diet. mistress luther is having a portrait taken of their little magdalen, who is now a year old, and especially dear to the doctor, to send to him in the fortress. _june_, . letters have arrived from and about dr. luther. his father is dead--the brave, persevering, self-denying, truthful old man, who had stamped so much of his own character on his son. "it is meet i should mourn such a parent," luther writes, "who through the sweat of his brow had nurtured and educated me, and made me what i am." he felt it keenly, especially since he could not be with his father at the last; although he gives thanks that he lived in these times of light, and departed strong in the faith of christ. dr. luther's secretary writes, however, that the portrait of his little magdalen comforts him much. he has hung it on the wall opposite to the place where he sits at meals. dr. luther is now the eldest of his race. he stands in the foremost rank of the generations slowly advancing to confront death. to-day i have been sitting with mistress luther in the garden behind the augustei, under the shade of the pear-tree, where she so often sits beside the doctor. our children were playing around us--her little hänschen with the boys, while the little magdalen sat cooing like a dove over some flowers, which she was pulling to pieces, on the grass at our feet. she talked to me much about the doctor; how dearly he loves the little ones, and what lessons of divine love and wisdom he learns from their little plays. he says often, that beautiful as all god's works are, little children are the fairest of all; that the dear angels especially watch over them. he is very tender with them, and says sometimes they are better theologians than he is, for they trust god. deeper prayers and higher theology he never hopes to reach than the first the little ones learn--the lord's prayer and the catechism. often, she said, he says over the catechism, to remind himself of all the treasures of faith we possess. it is delightful too, she says, to listen to the heavenly theology he draws from birds and leaves and flowers, and the commonest gifts of god or events of life. at table, a plate of fruit will open to him a whole volume of god's bounty, on which he will discourse. or, taking a rose in his hand, he will say, "a man who could make one rose like this would be accounted most wonderful; and god scatters countless such flowers around us! but the very infinity of his gifts makes us blind to them." and one evening, he said of a little bird, warbling its last little song before it went to roost, "ah, dear little bird! he has chosen his shelter, and is quietly rocking himself to sleep, without a care for to-morrow's lodging; calmly holding by his little twig, and leaving god to think for him." in spring he loves to direct her attention to the little points and tufts of life peeping everywhere from the brown earth or the bare branches. "who," he said, "that had never witnessed a spring-time would have guessed, two months since, that these lifeless branches had concealed within them all that hidden power of life? it will be thus with us at the resurrection. god writes his gospel, not in the bible alone, but in trees, and flowers, and clouds, and stars." and thus, to mistress luther, that little garden, with his presence and his discourse, has become like an illuminated gospel and psalter. i ventured to ask her some questions, and, among others, if she had ever heard him speak of using a form of words in prayer. she said she had once heard him say "we might use forms of words in private prayer until the wings and feathers of our souls are grown, that we may soar freely upward into the pure air of god's presence." but _his_ prayers, she says, are sometimes like the trustful pleadings of his little boy hänschen with him; and sometimes like the wrestling of a giant in an agony of conflict. she said, also, that she often thanks god for the doctor's love of music. when his mind and heart have been strained to the utmost, music seems to be like a bath of pure fresh water to his spirit, bracing and resting it at once. i indeed have myself heard him speak of this, when i have been present at the meetings he has every week at his house for singing in parts. "the devil," he says--"that lost spirit--cannot endure sacred songs of joy. our passions and impatiences, our complainings and our cryings, our alas! and our woe is me! please him well; but our songs and psalms vex him and grieve him sorely." mistress luther told me she had many an anxious hour about the doctor's health. he is often so sorely pressed with work and care; and he has never recovered the weakening effects of his early fasts and conflicts. his tastes at table are very simple, his favourite dishes are herrings and pease-soup. his habits are abstemious, and when engrossed with any especial work, he would forget or go without his meals altogether if she did not press him to take them. when writing his commentary on the twenty-second psalm, he shut himself up for three days with nothing but bread and salt; until, at last, she had to send for a locksmith to break open the door, when they found him absorbed in meditation. and yet, with all his deep thoughts and his wide cares, like a king's or an archbishop's, he enters into his children's games as if he were a boy; and never fails, if he is at a fair on his travels, to bring the little ones home some gift for a fairing. she showed me a letter she had just received from him from coburg, for his little son hänschen. she allowed me to copy it. it is written thus:-- "grace and peace in christ to my heartily dear little son. "i see gladly that thou learnest well and prayest earnestly. do thus, my little son, and go on. when i come home i will bring thee a beautiful fairing. i know a pleasant garden, wherein many children walk about. they have little golden coats, and pick up beautiful apples under the trees, and pears, cherries, and plums. they dance and are merry, and have also beautiful little ponies, with golden reins and silver saddles. then i asked the man whose the garden is, whose children those were. he said, 'these are the children who love to pray, who learn their lessons, and are good.' then i said, 'dear man, i also have a little son; he is called hänsichen luther. might not he also come into the garden, that he might eat such apples and pears, and ride on such beautiful little ponies, and play with these children?' then the man said, 'if he loves to pray, learn his lessons, and is good, he also shall come into the garden--lippus and jost also (the little sons of melancthon and justus jonas); and when they all come together, they also shall have pipes, drums, lutes, and all kinds of music; and shall dance, and shoot with little bows and arrows.' "and he showed me there a fair meadow in the garden, prepared for dancing. there were many pipes of pure gold, drums, and silver bows and arrows. but it was still early in the day, so that the children had not had their breakfasts. therefore i could not wait for the dancing, and said to the man, 'ah, dear sir, i will go away at once, and write all this to my little son hänsichen, that he may be sure to pray and to learn well, and be good, that he also may come into this garden. but he has a dear aunt, lena; he must bring her with him.' then said the man, 'let it be so; go and write him thus.' "therefore, my dear little son hänsichen, learn thy lessons, and pray with a cheerful heart; and tell all this to lippus and justus too, that they also may learn their lessons and pray. so shall you all come together into this garden. herewith i commend you to the almighty god; and greet aunt lena, and give her a kiss from me.--thy dear father, "martin luther." some who have seen this letter say it is too trifling for such serious subjects. but heaven is not a grim and austere, but a most bright and joyful place; and dr. luther is only telling the child in his own childish language what a happy place it is. does not god our heavenly father do even so with us? i should like to have seen dr. luther turn from his grave letters to princes and doctors about the great augsburg confession, which they are now preparing, to write these loving words to his little hans. no wonder "catharine lutherinn," "doctoress luther," "mea dominus ketha," "my lord käthe," as he calls her, is a happy woman. happy for germany that the catechism in which our children learn the first elements of divine truth, grew out of the fatherly heart of luther, instead of being put together by a diet or a general council. one more letter i have copied, because my children were so interested in it. dr. luther finds at all times great delight in the songs of birds. the letter i have copied was written on the th april to his friends who meet around his table at home. "grace and peace in christ, dear sirs and friends! i have received all your letters, and understand how things are going on with you. that you, on the other hand, may understand how things are going on here, i would have you know that we, namely, i, master veit, and cyriacus, are not going to the diet at augsburg. we have, however, another diet of our own here. "just under our window there is a grove like a little forest, where the choughs and crows have convened a diet, and there is such a riding hither and thither, such an incessant tumult, day and night, as if they were all merry and mad with drinking. young and old chatter together, until i wonder how their breath can hold out so long. i should like to know if any of those nobles and cavaliers are with you; it seems to me they must be gathered here out of the whole world. "i have not yet seen their emperor; but their great people are always strutting and prancing before our eyes, not, indeed, in costly robes, but all simply clad in one uniform, all alike black, all alike grey-eyed, and all singing one song, only with the most amusing varieties between young and old, and great and small. they are not careful to have a great palace and hall of assembly, for their hall is vaulted with the beautiful, broad sky, their floor is the field strewn with fair, green branches, and their walls reach as far as the ends of the world. neither do they require steeds and armour; they have feathered wheels with which they fly from shot and danger. they are, doubtless, great and mighty lords, but what they are debating i do not yet know. "as far, however, as i understand through an interpreter, they are planning a great foray and campaign against the wheat, barley, oats, and all kinds of grain, and many a knight will win his spurs in this war, and many a brave deed will be done. "thus we sit here in our diet, and hear and listen with great delight, and learn how the princes and lords, with all the other estates of the empire, sing and live so merrily. but our especial pleasure is to see how cavalierly they pace about, whet their beaks, and furbish their armour, that they may win glory and victory from wheat and oats. we wish them health and wealth,--and that they may all at once be impaled on a quickset hedge! "for i hold they are nothing better than sophists and papists with their preaching and writing; and i should like to have these also before me in our assembly, that i might hear their pleasant voices and sermons, and see what a useful people they are to devour all that is on the face of the earth, and afterwards chatter no one knows how long! "to-day we have heard the first nightingale; for they would not trust april. we have had delightful weather here, no rain, except a little yesterday. with you, perhaps, it is otherwise. herewith i commend you to god. keep house well. given from the diet of the grain-turks, the th of april, anno . "martinus luther." yet, peaceful and at leisure as he seems, gottfried says the whole of germany is leaning now once more on the strength of that faithful heart. the roman diplomatists again and again have all but persuaded melancthon to yield everything for peace; and, but for the firm and faithful words which issue from "this wilderness," as luther calls the coburg fortress, gottfried believes all might have gone wrong. severely and mournfully has dr. luther been constrained to write more than once to "philip pusillanimity," demanding that at least he should not give up the doctrine of justification by faith, and abandon all to the decision of the bishops! it is faith which gives luther this clearness of vision. "it is god's word and cause," he writes, "therefore our prayer is certainly heard, and already he has determined and prepared the help that shall help us. this cannot fail. for he says, 'can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will i not forget thee. see, i have graven thee on the palms of my hands.' i have lately seen two miracles," he continues; "the first, as i was looking out of my window and saw the stars in heaven, and all that beautiful vaulted roof of god, and yet saw no pillars on which the master builder had fixed this vault; yet the heaven fell not, but all that grand arch stood firm. now, there are some who search for such pillars, and want to touch and grasp them, and since they cannot, they wonder and tremble as if the heaven must certainly fall, for no other reason but because they cannot touch and grasp its pillars. if they could lay hold on those, think they, then the heaven would stand firm! "the second miracle was--i saw great clouds rolling over us, with such a ponderous weight that they might be compared to a great ocean, and yet i saw no foundation on which they rested or were based, nor any shore which kept them back; yet they fell not on us, but frowned on us with a stern countenance, and fled. but when they had passed by, then shone forth both their foundation and our roof which had kept them back--the rainbow! truly a weak, thin, slight foundation and roof, which soon melted away into the clouds, and was more like a shadowy prism, such as we see through coloured glass, than a strong and firm foundation! so that we might well distrust that feeble dyke which kept back that terrible weight of waters. yet we found, in fact, that this unsubstantial prism could bear up the weight of waters, and that it guards us safely. but there are some who look rather at the thickness and massy weight of the waters and clouds, than at this thin, slight, narrow bow of promise. they would like to _feel the strength_ of that shadowy, evanescent arch, and because they cannot do this, they are ever fearing that the clouds will bring back the deluge." heavenly father, since one man who trusts thy word can thus uphold a nation, what could not thy word do for each of us if we would each of us thus trust it, and thee who speakest it. xxxiii. thekla's story. wittemberg, . the time i used to dread most of all in my life, after that great bereavement which laid it waste, is come. i am in the monotonous level of solitary middle age. the sunny heights of childhood, and even the joyous breezy slopes of youth, are almost out of sight behind me; and the snowy heights of reverend age, from which we can look over into the promised land beyond, are almost as far before me. other lives have grown from the bubbling spring into the broad and placid river, while mine is still the little narrow stream it was at first; only, creeping slow and noiseless through the flats, instead of springing gladly from rock to rock, making music wherever it came. yet i am content; absolutely, fully content. i am sure that my life also has been ordered by the highest wisdom and love; and that (as far as my faithless heart does not hinder it) god is leading me also on to the very highest and best destiny for me. i did not always think so. i used to fear that not only would this bereavement throw a shadow on my earthly life, but that it would stunt and enfeeble my nature for ever; that missing all the sweet, ennobling relationships of married life, even throughout the ages i should be but an undeveloped, one-sided creature. but one day i was reading in dr. luther's german bible the chapter about the body of christ, the twelfth of first corinthians, and great comfort came into my heart through it. i saw that we are not meant to be separate atoms, each complete in itself, but members of a body, each only complete through union with all the rest. and then i saw how entirely unimportant it is in what place christ shall set me in his body; and how impossible it is for us to judge what he is training us for, until the body is perfected and we see what we are to be in it. on the düben heath also, soon after, when i was walking home with elsè's gretchen, the same lesson came to me in a parable, through a clump of trees under the shade of which we were resting. often, from a distance, we had admired the beautiful symmetry of the group, and now, looking up, i saw how imperfect every separate tree was, all leaning in various directions, and all only developed on one side. if each tree had said, "i am a beech tree, and i ought to throw out branches on every side, like my brother standing alone on the heath," what would have become of that beautiful clump? and looking up through the green interwoven leaves to the blue sky i said,-- "heavenly father, thou art wise! i will doubt no more. plant me where thou wilt in thy garden, and let me grow as thou wilt! thou wilt not let me fail of my highest end." dr. luther also said many things which helped me from time to time, in conversation or in his sermons. "the barley," he said, "must suffer much from man. first, it is cast into the earth that it may decay. then, when it is grown up and ripe, it is cut and mown down. then it is crushed and pressed, fermented and brewed into beer. "just such a martyr also is the linen or flax. when it is ripe it is plucked, steeped in water, beaten, dried, hacked, spun, and woven into linen, which again is torn and cut. afterwards it is made into plaster for sores, and used for binding up wounds. then it becomes lint, is laid under the stamping machines in the paper mill, and torn into small bits. from this they make paper for writing and printing. "these creatures, and many others like them, which are of great use to us, must thus suffer. thus also must good, godly christians suffer much from the ungodly and wicked. thus, however, the barley, wine, and corn are ennobled; in man becoming flesh, and in the christian man's flesh entering into the heavenly kingdom." often he speaks of the "dear, holy cross, a portion of which is given to all christians." "all the saints," he said once, when a little child of one of his friends lay ill, "must drink of the bitter cup. could mary even, the dear mother of our lord, escape? all who are dear to him must suffer. christians conquer when they suffer; only when they rebel and resist are they defeated and lose the day." he, indeed, knows what trial and temptation mean. many a bitter cup has he had to drink, he to whom the sins, and selfishness, and divisions of christians are personal sorrow and shame. it is therefore, no doubt, that he knows so well how to sustain and comfort. those, he says, who are to be the bones and sinews of the church must expect the hardest blows. well i remember his saying, when, on the th of august, , before his going to coburg, he and his wife lay sick of a fever, while he suffered also from sciatica, and many other ailments,-- "god has touched me sorely. i have been impatient; but god knows better than i whereto it serves. _our lord god is like a printer who sets the letters backwards, so that here we cannot read them. when we are printed off yonder, in the life to come, we shall read all clear and straightforward._ meantime we must have patience." in other ways more than i can number he and his words have helped me. no one seems to understand as he does what the devil is and does. it is the _temptation_ in the sorrow which is the thing to be dreaded and guarded against. this was what i did not understand at first when bertrand died. i thought i was rebellious, and dared not approach god till i ceased to feel rebellious. i did not understand that the malignant one who tempted me to rebel also tempted me to think god would not forgive. i had thought before of affliction as a kind of sanctuary where naturally i should feel god near. i had to learn that it is also night-time, even "the hour of darkness," in which the prince of darkness draws near unseen. as luther says, "the devil torments us in the place where we are most tender and weak, as in paradise he fell not on adam, but on eve." inexpressible was the relief to me when i learned who had been tormenting me, and turned to him who vanquished the tempter of old to banish him now from me. for terrible as dr. luther knows that fallen angel to be,--"the antithesis," as he said, "of the ten commandments," who for thousands of years has been studying with an angel's intellectual power, or how most effectually to distress and ruin man,--he always reminds us that, nevertheless, the devil is a vanquished foe, that the victory has not now to be won; that, bold as the evil one is to assail and tempt the unguarded, a word or look of faith will compel him to flee "like a beaten hound." it is this blending of the sense of satan's power to tempt, with the conviction of his powerlessness to injure the believing heart, which has so often sustained me in dr. luther's words. but it is not only thus that he has helped me. he presses on us often the necessity of occupation. it is better, he says, to engage in the humblest work, than to sit still alone and encounter the temptations of satan. "oft in my temptations i have need to talk even with a child, in order to expel such thoughts as the devil possesses me with; and this teaches me not to boast as if of myself i were able to help myself, and to subsist without the strength of christ. i need one at times to help me who in his whole body has not as much theology as i have in one finger." "the human heart," he says, "is like a millstone in a mill: when you put wheat under it, it turns, and grinds, and bruises the wheat to flour; if you put no wheat it still grinds on, but then it is itself it grinds and wears away. so the human heart, unless it be occupied with some employment, leaves space for the devil, who wriggles himself in, and brings with him a whole host of evil thoughts, temptations, tribulations, which grind away the heart." after hearing him say this, i tried hard to find myself some occupation. at first it seemed difficult. elsè wanted little help with her children, or only occasionally. at home the cares of poverty were over, and my dear father and mother lived in comfort, without my aid. i used discontentedly to wish sometimes that we were poor again, as in elsè's girlish days, that i might be needed, and really feel it of some use to spin and embroider, instead of feeling that i only worked for the sake of not being idle, and that no one would be the better for what i did. at other times i used to long to seclude myself from all the happy life around, and half to reproach dr. luther in my heart for causing the suppression of the convents. in a nunnery, at least, i thought i should have been something definite and recognized, instead of the negative, undeveloped creature, i felt myself to be, only distinguished from those around by the absence of what made their lives real and happy. my mother's recovery from the plague helped to cure me of that, by reminding me of the home blessings still left. i began, too, to confide once more in god, and i was comforted by thinking of what my grandmother said to me one day when i was a little girl, crying hopelessly over a tangled skein and sobbing, "i shall never untangle it." "wind, dear child, _wind on_, inch by inch, undo each knot one by one, and the skein will soon disentangle itself." so i resolved to wind on my little thread of life day by day, and undo one little knot after another, until now, indeed, the skein has disentangled itself. few women, i think, have a life more full of love and interest than mine. i have undertaken the care of a school for little girls, among whom are two orphans, made fatherless by the peasants' war, who were sent to us; and this also i owe to dr. luther. he has nothing more at heart than the education of the young; nothing gives him more pain than to see the covetousness which grudges funds for schools; and nothing more joy than to see the little ones grow up in all good knowledge. as he wrote to the elector john from coburg twelve years ago:-- "the merciful god shows himself indeed gracious in making his word so fruitful in your land. the tender little boys and maidens are so well instructed in the catechism and scriptures, that my heart melts when i see that young boys and girls can pray, believe, and speak better of god and christ than all the convents and schools could in the olden time. "such youth in your grace's land are a fair paradise, of which the like is not in the world. it is as if god said, 'courage, dear duke john, i commit to thee my noblest treasure, my pleasant paradise; thou shalt be father over it. for under thy guard and rule i place it, and give thee the honour that thou shalt be my gardener and steward.' this is assuredly true. it is even as if our lord himself were your grace's guest and ward, since his word and his little ones are your perpetual guests and wards." for a little while a lady, a friend of his wife, resided in his house in order to commence such a school at wittemberg for young girls; and now it has become my charge. and often dr. luther comes in and lays his hands on the heads of the little ones, and asks god to bless them, or listens while they repeat the catechism or the holy scriptures. _december_ , . once more the christmas tree has been planted in our homes at wittemberg. how many such happy christian homes there are among us! our elsè's, justus jonas', and his gentle, sympathizing wife, who, dr. luther says, "always brings comfort in her kind pleasant countenance." we all meet at elsè's home on such occasions now. the voices of the children are better than light to the blind eyes of my father, and my mother renews her own maternal joys again in her grandchildren, without the cares. but of all these homes, none is happier or more united than dr. luther's. his child-like pleasure in little things makes every family festival in his house so joyous; and the children's plays and pleasures, as well as their little troubles, are to him a perpetual parable of the heavenly family, and of our relationship to god. there are five children in his family now; hans, the first born; magdalen, a lovely, loving girl of thirteen; paul, martin, and margaretha. how good it is for those who are bereaved and sorrowful that our christian festivals point forward and upward as well as backward; that the eternal joy to which we are drawing ever nearer is linked to the earthly joy which has passed away. yes, the old heathen tree of life, which that young green fir from the primeval forests of our land is said to typify, has been christened into the christmas tree. the old tree of life was a tree of sorrow, and had its roots in the evanescent earth, and at its base sat the mournful destinies, ready to cut the thread of human life. nature ever renewing herself contrasted mournfully with the human life that blooms but once. but our tree of life is a tree of joy, and is rooted in the eternal paradise of joy. the angels watch over it, and it recalls the birth of the second man--the lord from heaven--who is not merely "a living soul, but a life-giving spirit." in it the evanescence of nature, immortal as she seems, is contrasted with the true eternal life of mortal man. in the joy of the little ones, once more, thank god, my whole heart seems to rejoice; for i also have my face towards the dawn, and i can hear the fountain of life bubbling up whichever way i turn. only, _before_ me it is best and freshest! for it is springing up to life everlasting. _december_, . a shadow has fallen on the peaceful home of dr. luther: magdalen, the unselfish, obedient, pious, loving child--the darling of her father's heart--is dead; the first-born daughter, whose portrait, when she was a year old, used to cheer and delight him at coburg. on the th of this last september she was taken ill, and then luther wrote at once to his friend marcus crodel to send his son john from torgau, where he was studying, to see his sister. he wrote,-- "grace and peace, my marcus crodel. i request that you will conceal from my john what i am writing to you. my daughter magdalen is literally almost at the point of death--soon about to depart to her father in heaven, unless it should yet seem fit to god to spare her. but she herself so sighs to see her brother, that i am constrained to send a carriage to fetch him. they indeed loved one another greatly. may she survive to his coming! i do what i can, lest afterwards the sense of having neglected anything should torture me. desire him, therefore, without mentioning the cause, to return hither at once with all speed in this carriage; hither,--where she will either sleep in the lord or be restored. farewell in the lord." her brother came, but she was not restored. as she lay very ill, doctor martin said,-- "she is very dear to me; but, gracious god, if it is thy will to take her hence, i am content to know that she will be with thee." and as she lay in the bed, he said to her,-- "magdalenchen, my little daughter, thou wouldst like to stay with thy father; and thou art content also to go to thy father yonder." said she, "yes, dearest father; as god wills." then said the father,-- "thou darling child, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." then he turned away and said,-- "she is very dear to me. if the flesh is so strong, what will the spirit be?" and among other things he said,-- "for a thousand years god has given no bishop such great gifts as he has given me; and we should rejoice in his gifts. i am angry with myself that i cannot rejoice in my heart over her, nor give thanks; although now and then i can sing a little song to our god, and thank him a little for all this. but let us take courage; living or dying, we are the lord's. 'sive vivimus, sive moremur, domini sumus.' this is true, whether we take 'domini' in the nominative or the genitive: we are the lord's, and in him we are lords over death and life." then said master george rörer,-- "i once heard your reverence say a thing which often comforts me--namely, 'i have prayed our lord god that he will give me a happy departure when i journey hence. and he will do it; of that i feel sure. at my latter end i shall yet speak with christ my lord, were it for ever so brief a space.' i fear sometimes," continued master rörer, "that i shall depart hence suddenly, in silence, without being able to speak a word." then said dr. martin luther,-- "living or dying, we are the lord's. it is equally so whether you are killed by falling down stairs, or were sitting and writing, and suddenly should die. it would not injure me if i fell from a ladder and lay dead at its foot; for the devil hates us grievously, and might even bring about such a thing as that." when, at last, the little magdalen lay at the point of death, her father fell on his knees by her bed-side, wept bitterly and prayed that god would receive her. then she departed, and fell asleep in her father's arms. her mother was also in the room, but further off, on account of her grief. this happened a little after nine o'clock on the wednesday after the th sunday after trinity, . the doctor repeated often, as before said,-- "i would desire indeed to keep my daughter, if our lord god would leave her with me; for i love her very dearly. but his will be done; for nothing can be better than that for her." whilst she still lived, he said to her,-- "dear daughter, thou hast also a father in heaven: thou art going to him." then said master philip,-- "the love of parents is an image and illustration of the love of god, engraven on the human heart. if, then, the love of god to the human race is as great as that of parents to their children, it is indeed great and fervent." when she was laid in the coffin, doctor martin said,-- "thou darling lenichen, how well it is with thee!" and as he gazed on her lying there, he said,-- "ah, thou sweet lenichen, thou shalt rise again, and shine like a star; yes, like the sun!" they had made the coffin too narrow and too short, and he said,-- "the bed is too small for thee! i am indeed joyful in spirit, but after the flesh i am very sad, this parting is so beyond measure trying. wonderful it is that i should know she is certainly at peace, and that all is well with her, and yet should be so sad." and when the people who came to lay out the corpse, according to custom, spoke to the doctor, and said they were sorry for his affliction, he said,-- "you should rejoice. i have sent a saint to heaven; yes, a living saint! may we have such a death! such a death i would gladly die this very hour." then said one, "that is true indeed; yet every one would wish to keep his own." doctor martin answered,-- "flesh is flesh, and blood is blood. i am glad that she is yonder. there is no sorrow but that of the flesh." to others who came he said,-- "grieve not. i have sent a saint to heaven; yes, i have sent two such thither!" alluding to his infant elizabeth. as they were chanting by the corpse, "lord, remember not our former sins, which are of old," he said,-- "i say, o lord, not our former sins only, nor only those of old, but our present sins; for we are usurers, exactors, misers. yea, the abomination of the mass is still in the world!" when the coffin was closed, and she was buried, he said, "_there is indeed a resurrection of the body._" and as they returned from the funeral, he said,-- "my daughter is now provided for in body and soul. we christians have nothing to complain of; we know it must be so. we are more certain of eternal life than of anything else; for god who has promised it to us for his dear son's sake, can never lie. two saints of my flesh our lord god has taken, but not of my blood. flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom." among other things, he said,-- "we must take great care for our children, and especially for the poor little maidens; we must not leave it to others to care for them. i have no compassion on the boys. a lad can maintain himself wherever he is, if he will only work; and if he will not work, he is a scoundrel. but the poor maiden-kind must have a staff to lean on." and again,-- "i gave this daughter very willingly to our god. after the flesh, i would indeed have wished to keep her longer with me; but since he has taken her hence, i thank him." the night before magdalen luther died, her mother had a dream, in which she saw two men clothed in fair raiment, beautiful and young, come and lead her daughter away to her bridal. when, on the next morning, philip melancthon came into the cloister, and asked her how her daughter was, she told him her dream. but he was alarmed at it, and said to others,-- "those young men are the dear angels who will come and lead this maiden into the kingdom of heaven, to the true bridal." and the same day she died. some little time after her death, dr. martin luther said,-- "if my daughter magdalen could come to life again and bring with her to me the turkish kingdom, i would not have it. oh, she is well cared for; 'beati mortui qui in domino moriuntur.' who dies thus, certainly has eternal life. i would that i, and my children, and ye all could thus all depart; for evil days are coming. there is neither help nor counsel more on earth, i see, until the judgment day. i hope, if god will, it will not be long delayed; for covetousness and usury increase." and often at supper he repeated, "et multipicata sunt mala in terris." he himself made this epitaph, and had it placed on his magdalen's tomb:-- "dormio cum sanctis hic magdaleni lutheri filia, et hoc strato tecta quiesco meo, filia mortis eram peccati semine nata, sanguine sed vivo, christe, redempta tuo."[ ] [footnote : a friend has translated it thus:-- i, luther's daughter magdalen, here slumber with the blest; upon this bed i lay my head, and take my quiet rest. i was a child of death on earth, in sin my life was given; but on the tree christ died for me, and now i live in heaven.] in german,-- "here sleep i, lenichen, dr. luther's little daughter, rest with all the saints in my little bed; i who was born in sins, and must forever have been lost. but now i live and all is well with me, lord christ, redeemed with thy blood." yet indeed, although he tries to cheer others, he laments long and deeply himself, as many of his letters show. to jonas he wrote,-- "i think you will have heard that my dearest daughter magdalen is born again to the eternal kingdom of christ. but although i and my wife ought to do nothing but give thanks, rejoicing in so happy and blessed a departure, by which she has escaped the power of the flesh, the world, the turk, and the devil; yet such is the strength of natural affection, that we cannot part with her without sobs and groans of heart. they cleave to our heart, they remain fixed in its depths--her face, her words--the looks, living and dying, of that most dutiful and obedient child; so that even the death of christ (and what are all deaths in comparison with that?) scarcely can efface her death from our minds. do thou, therefore, give thanks to god in our stead. wonder at the great work of god who thus glorifies our flesh! she was, as thou knowest, gentle and sweet in disposition, and was altogether lovely. blessed be the lord jesus christ, who called and chose, and has thus magnified her! i wish for myself and all mine, that we may attain to such a death; yea, rather, to such a life, which only i ask from god, the father of all consolation and mercy." and again, to jacob probst, pastor at bremen-- "my most dear child, magdalen, has departed to her heavenly father, falling asleep full of faith in christ. an indignant horror against death softens my tears. i loved her vehemently. but in _that day_ we shall be avenged on death, and on him who is the author of death." and to amsdorf-- "thanks to thee for endeavouring to console me on the death of my dearest daughter. i loved her not only for that she was my flesh, but for her most placid and gentle spirit, ever so dutiful to me. but now i rejoice that she is gone to live with her heavenly father, and is fallen into sweetest sleep until that day. for the times are and will be worse and worse; and in my heart i pray that to thee, and to all dear to me, may be given such an hour of departure, and with such placid quiet, truly to fall asleep in the lord. '_the just are gathered, and rest in their beds._' 'for verily the world is as a horrible sodom.'" and to lauterbach-- "thou writest well, that in this most evil age death (or more truly, sleep) is to be desired by all. and although the departure of that most dear child has, indeed, no little moved me, yet i rejoice more that she, a daughter of the kingdom, is snatched from the jaws of the devil and the world; so sweetly did she fall asleep in christ." so mournfully and tenderly he writes and speaks, the shadow of that sorrow at the centre of his life overspreading the whole world with darkness to him. or rather, as he would say, the joy of that loving, dutiful child's presence being withdrawn, he looks out from his cold and darkened hearth, and sees the world as it is; the covetousness of the rich; the just demands, yet insurrectionary attempts of the poor; the war with the turks without, the strife in the empire within; the fierce animosities of impending religious war; the lukewarmness and divisions among his friends. for many years god gave that feeling heart a refuge from all these in the bright, unbroken circle of his home. but now the next look to him seems beyond this life; to death, which unveils the kingdom of truth and righteousness, and love, to each, one by one; or still more, to the glorious advent which will manifest it to all. of this he delights to speak. the end of the world, he feels sure, is near; and he says all preachers should tell their people to pray for its coming, as the beginning of the golden age. he said once--"o gracious god, come soon again! i am waiting ever for the day--the spring morning, when day and night are equal, and the clear, bright rose of that dawn shall appear. from that glow of morning i imagine a thick, black cloud will issue, forked with lightning, and then a crash, and heaven and earth will fall. praise be to god, who has taught us to long and look for that day. in the papacy, they sing-- 'dies iræ, dies illa;' but we look forward to it with hope; and i trust it is not far distant." yet he is no dreamer, listlessly clasping his hands in the night, and watching for the dawn. he is of the day, a child of the light; and calmly, and often cheerfully, he pursues his life of ceaseless toil for others, considerately attending to the wants and pleasures of all, from the least to the greatest; affectionately desirous to part with his silver plate, rather than not give a generous reward to a faithful old servant, who was retiring from his service; pleading the cause of the helpless; writing letters of consolation to the humblest who need his aid; caring for all the churches, yet steadily disciplining his children when they need it, or ready to enter into any scheme for their pleasure. wittemberg, . it seems as if dr. luther were as necessary to us now as when he gave the first impulse to better things, by affixing his theses to the doors of wittemberg, or when the eyes of the nation centred on him at worms. in his quiet home he sits and holds the threads which guide so many lives, and the destinies of so many lands. he has been often ailing lately, and sometimes very seriously. the selfish luxury of the rich burghers and nobles troubles him much. he almost forced his way one day into the elector's cabinet, to press on him the appropriation of some of the confiscated church revenues to the payment of pastors and schoolmasters; and earnestly, again and again, from the pulpit, does he denounce covetousness. "all other vices," he says, "bring their pleasures; but the wretched avaricious man is the slave of his goods, not their master; he enjoys neither this world nor the next. here he has purgatory, and there hell; while faith and content bring rest to the soul here, and afterwards bring the soul to heaven. for the avaricious lack what they have, as well as what they have not." never was a heart more free from selfish interests and aims than his. his faith is always seeing the invisible god; and to him it seems the most melancholy folly, as well as sin, that people should build their nests in this forest, on all whose trees he sees "the forester's mark of destruction." the tone of his preaching has often lately been reproachful and sad. elsè's gretchen, now a thoughtful maiden of three-and-twenty, said to me the other day,-- "aunt thekla, why does dr. luther preach some times as if his preaching had done no good? have not many of the evil things he attacked been removed? is not the bible in every home? our mother says we cannot be too thankful for living in these times, when we are taught the truth about god, and are given a religion of trust and love, instead of one of distrust and dread. why does dr. luther often speak as if nothing had been done?" and i could only say,-- "we see what has been done; but dr. luther only knows what he hoped to do. he said one day--'if i had known at first that men were so hostile to the word of god, i should have held my peace. i imagined that they sinned merely through ignorance.'" "i suppose, gretchen," i said, "that he had before him the vision of the whole of christendom flocking to adore and serve his lord, when once he had shown them how good he is. _we_ see what dr. luther has done. _he_ sees what he hoped, and contrasts it with what is left undone." xxxiv. the mother's story. i do not think there is another old man and woman in christendom who ought to be so thankful as my husband and i. no doubt all parents are inclined to look at the best side of their own children; but with ours there is really no other side to look at, it seems to me. perhaps elsè has sometimes a little too much of my anxious mind; but even in her tender heart, as in all the others, there is a large measure of her father's hopefulness. and then, although they have, perhaps, none of them quite his inventive genius, yet that seems hardly a matter of regret; because, as things go in the world, other people seem so often, at the very goal, to step in and reap the fruit of these inventions, just by adding some insignificant detail which makes the invention work, and gives them the appearance of having been the real discoverers. not that i mean to murmur for one instant against the people who have this little knack of just putting the finishing touch and making things succeed; that also, as the house-father says, is god's gift, and although it cannot certainly be compared to these great, lofty thoughts and plans of my husband's, it has more current value in the world. not, again, that i would for an instant murmur at the world. we have all so much more in it than we deserve (except, perhaps, my dearest husband, who cares so little for its rewards!) it has been quite wonderful how good every one has been to us. gottfried reichenbach, and all our sons-in-law, are like sons to us; and certainly could not have prized our daughters more if they had had the dowry of princesses! although i must candidly say i think our dear daughters without a kreutzer of dowry are worth a fortune to any man. i often wonder how it is they are such housewives, and so sensible and wise in every way, when i never considered myself at all a clever manager. to be sure their father's conversation was always very improving; and my dear blessed mother was a store-house of wisdom and experience. however, there is no accounting for these things. god is wonderfully good in blessing the humblest efforts to train up the little ones for him. we often think the poverty of their early years was quite a school of patience and household virtues for them all. even christopher and thekla, who caused us more anxiety at first than the others, are the very stay and joy of our old age; which shows how little we can foresee what good things god is preparing for us. how i used at one time to tremble for them both! it shocked elsè and me so grievously to see christopher, as we thought, quite turning his back on religion, after fritz became a monk; and what a relief it was to see him find in dr. luther's sermons and in the bible the truth which bowed his heart in reverence, yet left his character free to develop itself without being compressed into a mould made for other characters. what a relief it was to hear that he turned, not from religion, but from what was false in the religion then taught, and to see him devoting himself to his calling as a printer with a feeling as sacred as fritz to his work as a pastor! then our thekla, how anxious i was about her at one time! how eager to take her training out of god's hands into my own, which i thought, in my ignorance, might spare her fervent, enthusiastic, loving heart some pain. i wanted to tame down and moderate everything in her by tender warnings and wise precepts. i wanted her to love less vehemently, to rejoice with more limitation, to grieve more moderately. i tried hard to compress her character into a narrower mould. but god would not have it so. i can see it all now. she was to love and rejoice, and then to weep and lament, according to the full measure of her heart, that in the heights and depths to which god led her, she might learn what she was to learn of the heights and depths of the love which extends beyond all joy and below all sorrow. her character, instead of becoming dwarfed and stunted, as my ignorant hand might have made it, was to be thus braced, and strengthened, and rooted, that others might find shelter beneath her sympathy and love, as so many do now. i would have weakened in order to soften; god's providence has strengthened and expanded while softening, and made her strong to endure and pity as well as strong to feel. no one can say what she is to us, the one left entirely to us, to whom we are still the nearest and the dearest, who binds our years together by the unbroken memory of her tender care, and makes us young in her child-like love, and brings into our failing life the activity and interest of mature age by her own life of active benevolence. elsè and her household are the delight of our daily life; eva and fritz are our most precious and consecrated treasures, and all the rest are good and dear as children can be; but to all the rest we are the grandmother and the grandfather. to thekla we are "father" and "mother" still, the shelter of her life and the home of her affections. only, sometimes my old anxious fears creep over me when i think what she will do when we are gone. but i have no excuse for these now, with all those promises of our lord, and his words about the lilies and the birds, in plain german in my bible, and the very same lilies and birds preaching to me in colours and songs as plain from the eaves and from the garden outside my window. never did any woman owe so much to dr. luther and the reformation as i. christopher's religion; fritz and eva's marriage; thekla's presence in our home, instead of her being a nun in some convent-prison; all the love of the last months my dear sister agnes and i spent together before her peaceful death; and the great weight of fear removed from my own heart! and yet my timid, ease-loving nature, will sometimes shrink, not so much from what has been done, as from the way in which it has been done. i fancy a little more gentleness might have prevented so terrible a breach between the new and the old religions; that the peasant war might have been saved; and somehow or other (how, i cannot at all tell) the good people on both sides might have been kept at one. for that there are good people on both sides, nothing will ever make me doubt. indeed, is not one of our sons--our good and sober-minded pollux--still in the old church? and can i doubt that he and his devout, affectionate little wife, who visits the poor and nurses the sick, love god and try to serve him? in truth, i cannot help half counting it among our mercies that we have one son still adhering to the old religion; although my children, who are wiser than i, do not think so; nor my husband, who is wiser than they; nor dr. luther, who is, on the whole, i believe, wiser than any one. perhaps i should rather say, that great as the grief is to us and the loss to him, i cannot help seeing some good in our pollux remaining as a link between us and the religion of our fathers. it seems to remind us of the tie of our common creation and redemption, and our common faith, however dim, in our creator and redeemer. it prevents our thinking all christendom which belongs to the old religion quite the same as the pagans or the turks; and it also helps a little to prevent their thinking us such hopeless infidels. besides, although they would not admit it, i feel sure that dr. luther and the reformation have taught pollux and his wife many things. they also have a german bible; and although it is much more cumbrous than dr. luther's, and, it seems to me, not half such genuine, hearty german, still he and his wife can read it; and i sometimes trust we shall find by-and-by we did not really differ so very much about our saviour, although we may have differed about dr. luther. perhaps i am wrong, however, in thinking that great changes might have been more quietly accomplished. thekla says the spring must have its thunder-storms as well as its sunshine and gentle showers, and that the stone could not be rolled away from the sepulchre, nor the veil rent in the holy place without an earthquake. elsè's gottfried says the devil would never suffer his lies about the good and gracious god to be set aside without a battle; and that the dear holy angels have mighty wars to wage, as well as silent watch to keep by the cradles of the little ones. only i cannot help wishing that the reformers, and even dr. luther himself, would follow the example of the archangel michael in not returning railing for railing. of one thing, however, i am quite sure, whatever any one may say; and that is that it is among our great mercies that our atlantis married a swiss, so that through her we have a link with our brethren the evangelical christians who follow the zwinglian confession. i shall always be thankful for the months her father and i passed under their roof. if dr. luther could only know how they revere him for his noble work, and how one they are with us and him in faith in christ and christian love! i was a little perplexed at one time how it could be that such good men should separate, until thekla reminded me of that evil one who goes about accusing god to us, and us to one another. on the other hand, some of the zwinglians are severe on dr. luther for his "compromise with rome," and his "unscriptural doctrines," as some of them call his teaching about the sacraments. these are things on which my head is not clear enough to reason. it is always so much more natural to me to look out for points of agreement than of difference; and it does seem to me, that deep below all the differences good men often mean the same. dr. luther looks on holy baptism in contrast with the monastic vows, and asserts the common glory of the baptism and christian profession which all christians share, against the exclusive claims of any section of priests or monks. and in the holy supper, it seems to me simply the certainty of the blessing, and the reality of the presence of our saviour in the sacrament, that he is really vindicating, in his stand on the words, "this is my body." baptism represents to him the consecration and priesthood of all christians, to be defended against all narrow privileges of particular orders; the holy supper, the assured presence of christ, to be defended against all doubters. to the swiss, on the other hand, the contrast is between faith and form, letter and spirit. this is, at all events, what my husband thinks. i wish dr. luther would spend a few months with our atlantis and her conrad. i shall always be thankful _we_ did. lately, the tone of dr. luther's preaching has often been reproachful and full of warning. these divisions between the evangelical christians distress him so much. yet he himself, with that resolute will of his, keeps them apart, as he would keep his children from poison, saying severe and bitter things of the zwinglians, which sometimes grieve me much, because i know conrad winkelried's parish and atlantis' home. well, one thing is certain: if dr. luther had been like me, we should have had no reformation at all. and dr. luther and the reformation have brought peace to my heart and joy to my life, for which i would go through any storms. only, to leave our dear ones behind in the storms is another thing! but our dear heavenly father has not, indeed, called us to leave them yet. when he does call us, he will give us the strength for that. and then we shall see everything quite clearly, because we shall see our saviour quite clearly, as he is, know his love, and love him quite perfectly. what that will be we know not yet! but i am quite persuaded that when we do really see our blessed lord face to face, and see all things in his light, we shall all be very much surprised, and find we have something to unlearn, as well as infinitely much to learn; not pollux, and the zwinglians, and i only, but dr. philip melancthon, and dr. luther, and all! for the reformation, and even dr. luther's german bible, have not taken all the clouds away. still, we see through a glass darkly. but they have taught us that there is nothing evil and dark behind to be found out; only, much to be revealed which is too good for us yet to understand, and too bright for us yet to see. xxxv. eva's agnes's story. eisleben, . aunt elsè says no one in the world ought to present more thanksgivings to god than heinz and i, and i am sure she is right. in the first place we have the best father and mother in the world, so that whenever from our earliest years they have spoken to us about our father in heaven, we have had just to think of what they were on earth to us, and feel that all their love and goodness together are what god is; only (if we can conceive such a thing) much more. we have only had to _add_ to what they are, to learn what god is, not to take anything away; to say to ourselves, as we think of our parents, so kind in judging others, so loving, so true, god is like that--only the love is greater and wiser than our father's, tenderer and more sympathizing than our mother's (difficult as it is to imagine). and then there is just one thing in which he is unlike. his power is unbounded. he can give to us every blessing he sees it good to give. with such a father and mother on earth, and such a father in heaven, and with heinz, how can i ever thank our god enough? and our mother is so young still! our dear father said the other day, "her hair has not a tinge of grey in it, but is as golden as our agnes's." and her face is so fair and sweet, and her voice so clear and full in her own dear hymns, or in talking! aunt elsè says, it makes one feel at rest to look at her, and that her voice always was the sweetest in the world, something between church music and the cooing of a dove. aunt elsè says also, that even as a child she had just the same way she has now of seeing what you are thinking about--of _coming into_ your heart, and making everything that is good in it feel it is understood, and all that is bad in it feel detected and slink away. our dear father does not, indeed, look so young; but i like men to look as if they had been in the wars--as if their hearts had been well ploughed and sown. and the grey in his hair, and the furrows on his forehead--those two upright ones when he is thinking--and the firm compression of his mouth, and the hollow on his cheek, seem to me quite as beautiful in their way as our mother's placid brow, and the dear look on her lips, like the dawn of a smile, as if the law of kindness had moulded every curve. then, in the second place (perhaps i ought to have said in the first,) we have the "catechism." and aunt elsè says we have no idea, heinz and i, what a blessing that is to us. we certainly did not always think it a blessing when we were learning it. but i begin to understand it now, especially since i have been staying at wittemberg with aunt elsè, and she has told me about the perplexities of her childhood and early youth. always to have learned about god as the father who "cares for us every day"--gives us richly all things to enjoy, and "that all out of pure, fatherly, divine love and goodness; and of the lord jesus christ, that he has redeemed me from all sin, from death, and from the power of the devil, to be his own--redeemed me, not with gold and silver, but with his holy, precious blood;" and of the holy spirit, that "he dwells with us daily, calls us by his gospel, enlightens, and richly forgives;"--all this, she says, is the greatest blessing any one can know. to have no dark, suspicious thoughts of the good god, unconsciously drunk in from infancy, to dash away from our hearts--dr. luther himself says we have little idea what a gift that is to us young people of this generation. it used to be like listening to histories of dark days centuries ago, to hear aunt elsè speak of her childhood at eisenach, when dr. luther also was a boy, and used to sing for bread at our good kinswoman ursula cotta's door--when the monks and nuns from the many high-walled convents used to walk demurely in their dark robes about the streets; and aunt elsè used to tremble at the thought of heaven, because it might be like a convent garden, and all the heavenly saints like aunt agnes. our dear great-aunt agnes, how impossible for us to understand her being thus dreaded!--she who was the playmate of our childhood; and used to spoil us, our mother said, by doing everything we asked, and making us think she enjoyed being pulled about, and made a lion or a turk of, as much as we enjoyed it. how well i remember now the pang that came over heinz and me when we were told to speak and step softly, because she was ill, and then taken for a few minutes in the day to sit quite still by her bed-side with picture-books, because she loved to look at us, but could not bear any noise. and at last the day when we were led in solemnly, and she could look at us no more, but lay quite still and white, while we placed our flowers on the bed, and we both felt it too sacred and too much like being at church to cry--until our evening prayer-time came, and our mother told us that aunt agnes did not need our prayers any longer, because god had made her quite good and happy in heaven. and heinz said he wished god would take us all, and make us quite good and happy with her. but i, when we were left in our cribs alone, sobbed bitterly, and could not sleep. it seemed so terrible to think aunt agnes did not want us any more, and that we could do nothing more for her--she who had been so tenderly good to us! i was so afraid, also, that we had not been kind enough to her, had teased her to play with us, and made more noise than we ought; and that that was the reason god had taken her away. heinz could not understand that at all. he was quite sure god was too kind; and, although he also cried, he soon fell asleep. it was a great relief to me when our mother came round, as she always did the last thing to see if we were asleep, and i could sob out my troubles on her heart, and say-- "will aunt agnes never want us any more?" "yes, darling," said our mother; "she wants us now. she is waiting for us all to come to her." "then it was not because we teased her, and were noisy, she was taken away? we did love her so very dearly! and can we do nothing for her now?" then she told me how aunt agnes had suffered much here, and that our heavenly father had taken her _home_, and that, although we could not do anything for her now, we need not leave her name out of our nightly prayers, because we could always say, "thank god for taking dear aunt agnes home!" and so two things were written on my heart that night, that there was a place like home beyond the sky, where aunt agnes was waiting for us, loving us quite as much as ever, with god who loved us more than any one; and that we must be as kind as possible to people, and not give any one a moment's pain, because a time may come when they will not need our kindness any more. it is very difficult for me who always think of aunt agnes waiting for us in heaven, with the wistful loving look she used to have when she lay watching for heinz and me to come and sit by her bed-side, to imagine what different thoughts aunt elsè had about her when she was a nun. but aunt elsè says that she has no doubt that heinz and i, with our teasing, and our noise, and our love, were among the chief instruments of her sanctification. yes, those days of aunt elsè's childhood appear almost as far away from us as the days of st. elizabeth of hungary, who lived at the wartburg, used to seem from aunt elsè. it is wonderful to think what that miner's son, whom old john reineck remembers carrying on his shoulders to the school-house up the hill, here at eisleben, has done for us all. so completely that grim old time seems to have passed away. there is not a monastery left in all saxony, and the pastors are all married, and schools are established in every town, where dr. luther says the young lads and maidens hear more about god and christianity than the nuns and monks in all the convents had learned thirty years ago. not that all the boys and maidens are good as they ought to be. no; that is too plain from what heinz and i feel and know, and also from what our dear father preaches in the pulpit on sundays. our mother says sometimes she is afraid we of this generation shall grow up weak, and self-indulgent, and ease-loving, unlike our fathers who had to fight for every inch of truth they hold, with the world, the flesh, and the devil. but our dear father smiles gravely, and says, she need not fear. these three enemies are not slain yet and will give the young generation enough to do. besides, the pope is still reigning at rome, and the emperor is even now threatening us with an army, to say nothing of the turks, and the anabaptists, of whom dr. luther says so much. i knew very little of the world until two years ago, and not much, i am afraid, of myself. but when i was about fifteen i went alone to stay with aunt chriemnild and aunt elsè, and then i learned many things which in learning troubled me not a little, but now that they are learned make me happier than before, which our mother says is the way with most of god's lessons. before these visits i had never left home; and although heinz, who had been away, and was also naturally more thrown with other people as a boy than i was, often told me i knew no more of actual life than a baby, i never understood what he meant. i suppose i had always unconsciously thought our father and mother were the centre of the world to every one as well as to us; and had just been thankful for my lot in life, because i believed in all respects no one else had anything so good; and entertained a quiet conviction that in their hearts every one thought the same. and to find that to other people our lot in life seemed pitiable and poor, was an immense surprise to me, and no little grief! when we left our old home in the forest many years since, when heinz and i were quite children; and it only lingered in our memories as a kind of eden or fairy-land, where, amongst wild flowers, and green glades, and singing birds, and streams, we made a home for all our dreams, not questioning, however, in our hearts that our new home at eisleben was quite as excellent in its way. have we not a garden behind the house with several apple-trees, and a pond as large as any of our neighbours, and an empty loft for wet days--the perfection of a loft--for telling fairy tales in, or making experiments, or preparing surprises of wonderful cabinet work with heinz's tools? and has not our eisleben valley also its green and wooded hills, and in the forests around are there not strange glows all night from the great miners' furnaces to which those of the charcoal-burners in the thuringian forest are mere toys? and are there not, moreover, all kinds of wild caverns and pits from which, at intervals, the miners come forth, grimy and independent, and sing their wild songs in chorus as they come home from work? and is not eisleben dr. luther's birth-place? and have we not a high grammar-school which dr. luther founded, and in which our dear father teaches latin? and do we not hear him preach once every sunday? to me it always seemed, and seems still, that nothing can be nobler than our dear father's office of telling the people the way to heaven on sundays, and teaching their children the way to be wise and good on earth in the week. it was a great shock to me when i found every one did not think the same. not that every one was not always most kind to me; but it happened in this way. one day some visitors had been at uncle ulrich's castle. they had complimented me on my golden hair, which heinz always says is the colour of the princess' in the fairy tale. i went out at aunt chriemhild's desire, feeling half shy and half flattered, to play with my cousins in the forest. as i was sitting hidden among the trees, twining wreaths from the forget-me-nots my cousins were gathering by the stream below, these ladies passed again. i heard one of them say,-- "yes, she is a well-mannered little thing for a schoolmaster's daughter." "i cannot think whence a burgher maiden--the cottas are all burghers, are they not--should inherit those little white hands and those delicate features," said the other. "poor, too, doubtless, as they must be!" was the reply, "one would think she had never had to work about the house, as no doubt she must." "who was her grandfather?" "only a printer at wittemberg!" "only a schoolmaster!" and "only a printer!" my whole heart rose against the scornful words. was this what people meant by paying compliments? was this the estimate my father was held in in the world--he, the noblest man in it, who was fit to be the elector or the emperor? a bitter feeling came over me, which i thought was affection and an aggrieved sense of justice. but love is scarcely so bitter, or justice so fiery. i did not tell any one, nor did i shed a tear, but went on weaving my forget-me-not wreaths, and forswore the wicked and hollow world. had i not promised to do so long since, through my godsponsers, at my baptism? now, i thought, i was learning what all that meant. at aunt elsè's, however, another experience awaited me. there was to be a fair, and we were all to go in our best holiday dresses. my cousins had rich oriental jewels on their bodices; and although, as burgher maidens, they might not, like my cousins at the castle, wear velvets, they had jackets and dresses of the stiffest, richest silks, which uncle reichenbach had sent for from italy and the east. my stuff dress certainly looked plain beside them, but i did not care in the least for that; my own dear mother and i had made it together; and she had hunted up some old precious stores to make me a taffetas jacket, which, as it was the most magnificent apparel i had ever possessed, we had both looked at with much complacency. nor did it seem to me in the least less beautiful now. the touch of my mother's fingers had been on it, as she smoothed it round me the evening before i came away. and aunt elsè had said it was exactly like my mother. but my cousins were not quite pleased, it was evident; especially fritz and the elder boys. they said nothing; but on the morning of the fête, a beautiful new dress, the counterpart of my cousins', was laid at my bed-side before i awoke. i put it on with some pleasure, but, when i looked at myself in the glass--it was very unreasonable--i could not bear it. it seemed a reproach on my mother, and on my humble life and my dear, poor home at eisleben, and i sat down and cried bitterly, until a gentle knock at the door aroused me; and aunt elsè came in, and found me sitting with tears on my face and on the beautiful new dress, exceedingly ashamed of myself. "don't you like it, my child? it was our fritz's thought. i was afraid you might not be pleased." "my mother thought the old one good enough," i said in a very faltering tone. "it was good enough for my home. i had better go home again." aunt elsè was carefully wiping away the tears from my dress, but at these words she began to cry herself, and drew me to her heart, and said it was exactly what she should have felt in her young days at eisenach, but that i must just wear the new dress to the fête, and then i need never wear it again unless i liked; and that i was right in thinking nothing half so good as my mother, and all she did, because nothing ever was, or would be, she was sure. so we cried together, and were comforted; and i wore the green taffetas to the fair. but when i came home again to eisleben, i felt more ashamed of myself than of the taffetas dress or of the flattering ladies at the castle. the dear, precious old home, in spite of all i could persuade myself to the contrary, did look small and poor, and the furniture worn and old. and yet i could see there new traces of care and welcome everywhere--fresh rushes on the floors; a new white quilt on my little bed, made, i knew, by my mother's hands. she knew very soon that i was feeling troubled about something, and soon she knew it all, as i told her my bitter experiences of life. "your father, 'only a schoolmaster!'" she said, "and you yourself presented with a new taffetas dress! are these all your grievances, little agnes?" "_all_, mother!" i exclaimed; "and _only_!" "is your father anything else than a schoolmaster, agnes?" she said. "i am not ashamed of that for an instant, mother," i said; "you could not think it. i think it is much nobler to teach children than to hunt foxes, and buy and sell bales of silk and wool. but the world seems to me exceedingly hollow and crooked; and i never wish to see any more of it. oh, mother, do you think it was all nonsense in me?" "i think, my child, you have had an encounter with the world, the flesh, and the devil; and i think they are no contemptible enemies. and i think you have not left them behind." "but is not our father's calling nobler than any one's, and our home the nicest in the world?" i said; "and eisleben really as beautiful in its way as the thuringian forest, and as wise as wittemberg?" "all callings may be noble," she said; "and the one god calls us to is the noblest for us. eisleben is not, i think, as beautiful as the old forest-covered hills at gersdorf; nor luther's birth-place as great as his dwelling-place, where he preaches and teaches, and sheds around him the influence of his holy daily life. other homes may be as good as yours, dear child, though none can be so to you." and so i learned that what makes any calling noble is its being commanded by god, and what makes anything good is its being given by god; and that contentment consists not in persuading ourselves that our things are the very best in the world, but in believing they are the best for us, and giving god thanks for them. that was the way i began to learn to know the world. and also in that way i began better to understand the catechism, especially the part about the lord's prayer, and that on the second article of the creed, where we learn of him who suffered for our sins and redeemed us with his holy precious blood. i have just returned from my second visit to wittemberg, which was much happier than my first--indeed, exceedingly happy. the great delight of my visit, however, has been seeing and hearing dr. luther. his little daughter, magdalen, three years younger than i am, had died not long before, but that seemed only to make dr. luther kinder than ever to all young maidens--"the poor maiden-kind," as he calls them. his sermons seemed to me like a father talking to his children; and aunt elsè says he repeats the catechism often himself "to god" to cheer his heart and strengthen himself--the great dr. martin luther! i had heard so much of him, and always thought of him as the man nearest god on earth, great with a majesty surpassing infinitely that of the elector or the emperor. and now it was a great delight to see him in his home, in the dark wainscoted room looking on his garden, and to see him raise his head from his writing and smile kindly at us as he sat at the great table in the broad window, with mistress luther sewing on a lower seat beside him, and little margaretha luther, the youngest child, quietly playing beside them, contented with a look now and than from her father. i should like to have seen magdalen luther. she must have been such a good and loving child. but that will be hereafter in heaven! i suppose my feeling for dr. luther is different from that of my mother and father. they knew him during the conflict. we only know him as the conqueror, with the palm, as it were, already in his hand. but my great friend at wittemberg is aunt thekla. i think, on the whole, there is no one i should more wish to be like. she understands one in that strange way, without telling, like my mother. i think it is because she has felt so much. aunt elsè told me of the terrible sorrow she had when she was young. our dear mother and father also had their great sorrows, although they came to the end of their sorrow in this life, and aunt thekla will only come to the end of hers in the other world. but it seems to have consecrated them all, i think, in some peculiar way. they all, and dr. luther also, make me think of the people who, they say, have the gift, by striking on the ground, of discovering where the hidden springs lie that others may know where to dig for the wells. can sorrow only confer this gift of knowing where to find the hidden springs in the heart? if so, it must be worth while to suffer. only there are just one or two sorrows which it seems almost impossible to bear! but, as our mother says, our saviour has all the gifts in his hands; and "the greatest gift" of all (in whose hands the roughest tools can do the finest work) "is _love_!" and that is just the gift every one of us may have without limit. xxxvi. thekla's story. wittemberg, d _january_, . dr. luther has left wittemberg to-day for eisleben, his birth-place, to settle a dispute between the counts of mansfeld concerning certain rights of church patronage. he left in good spirits, intending to return in a few days. his three sons, john, martin, and paul, went with him. mistress luther is anxious and depressed about his departure, but we trust without especial cause, although he has often of late been weak and suffering. the dullness and silence which to me always seem to settle down on wittemberg in his absence are increased now doubtless by this wintry weather, and the rains and storms which have been swelling the rivers to floods. he is, indeed, the true father and king of our little world; and when he is with us all germany and the world seem nearer us through his wide-seeing mind and his heart that thrills to every touch of want or sorrow throughout the world. _february_. mistress luther has told me to-day that dr. luther said before he left he could "lie down on his death-bed with joy if he could first see his dear lords of mansfeld reconciled." she says also that he has just concluded the commentary on genesis, on which he has been working these ten years, with these words-- "_i am weak and can do no more. pray god he may grant me a peaceful and happy death._" she thinks his mind has been dwelling of late more than usual, even with him, on death, and fears he feels some inward premonition or presentiment of a speedy departure. so long he has spoken of death as a thing to be desired! yet it always makes our hearts ache to hear him do so. of the advent, as the end of all evil and the beginning of the kingdom, we can well bear to hear him speak, but not of that which if the end of all evil to him, would seem like the beginning of all sorrows to us. now, however, mistress luther is somewhat comforted by his letters, which are more cheerful than those she received during his absence last year, when he counselled her to sell all their wittemberg property, and take refuge in her estate at zöllsdorf, that he might know her safe out of wittemberg--that "haunt of selfishness and luxury"--before he died. his first letter since leaving wittemberg this time is addressed-- "to my kind and dear käthe lutherin, at wittemberg, grace and peace in the lord. "dear käthe,--to-day at half-past eight o'clock we reached halle, but have not yet arrived at eisleben; for a great anabaptist encountered us with water-floods and great blocks of ice, which covered the land, and threatened to baptize us all again. neither could we return, on account of the mulda. therefore we remain tranquilly here at halle, between the two streams. not that we thirst for water to drink, but console ourselves with good torgau beer and rhine wine, in case the saala should break out into a rage again. for we and our servants, and the ferrymen, would not tempt god by venturing on the water; for the devil is furious against us, and dwells in the water-floods; and it is better to escape him than to complain of him, nor is it necessary that we should become the jest of the pope and his hosts. i could not have believed that the saala could have made such a brewing, bursting over the causeway and all. now no more; but pray for us and be pious. i hold, hadst thou been here, thou hadst counselled us to do precisely what we have done. so for once we should have taken thy advice. herewith i commend you to god. amen. at halle, on the day of the conversion of st. paul. "martinus luther." four other letters she has received, one dated on the d of february, addressed-- "to my heartily beloved consort katherin lutherin, the zöllsdorfian doctoress, proprietress of the saümarkt, and whatever else she may be, grace and peace in christ; and my old poor (and, as know, powerless) love to thee! "dear käthe,--i became very weak on the road to eisleben, for my sins; although, wert thou here, thou wouldst have said it was for the sins of the jews. for near eisleben we passed through a village where many jews reside, and it is true, as i came through it, a cold wind came through my baret (doctor's hat), and my head, as if it would turn my brain to ice. "thy sons left mansfeld yesterday, because hans von jene so humbly entreated them to accompany him. i know not what they do. if it were cold, they might help me freeze here. since, however, it is warm again, they may do or suffer anything else they like. herewith i commend you and all the house to god, and greet all our friends. vigilia purificationis." and again-- eisleben. "to the deeply learned lady katherin, my gracious consort at wittemberg, grace and peace. "dear käthe,--we sit here and suffer ourselves to be tortured, and would gladly be away; but that cannot be, i think, for a week. thou mayest say to master philip that he may correct his exposition; for he has not yet rightly understood why the lord called riches thorns. here is the school in which to learn that" (_i. e._, the mansfeld controversies about property). "but it dawns on me that in the holy scriptures thorns are always menaced with fire; therefore i have all the more patience, hoping, with god's help, to bring some good out of it all. it seems to me the devil laughs at us; but god laughs him to scorn! amen. pray for us. the messenger hastes. on st. dorothea's day. m. l. (thy old lover)." dr. luther seems to be enjoying himself in his own simple hearty way, at his old home. nobles and burghers give him the most friendly welcome. the third letter mistress luther has received is full of playful tender answers to her anxieties about him. "to my dear consort katherin lutherin, doctoress and selftormentor at wittemberg, my gracious lady, grace and peace in the lord. "read thou, dear käthe, the gospel of john, and the smaller catechism, and then thou wilt say at once, 'all that in the book is said of me.' for thou must needs take the cares of thy god upon thee, as if he were not almighty, and could not create ten doctor martins, if the one old doctor martin were drowned in the saala. leave me in peace with thy cares i have a better guardian than thou and all the angels. it is he who lay in the manger, and was fondled on a maiden's breast; but who sitteth also now on the right hand of god the almighty father. therefore be at peace." and again-- "to the saintly anxious lady, katherin lutherin, doctorin zulsdorferin at wittemberg, my gracious dear wife, grace and peace in christ. "most saintly lady doctoress,--we thank your ladyship kindly for your great anxiety and care for us which prevented your sleeping; for since the time that you had this care for us, a fire nearly consumed us in our inn, close by my chamber door; and yesterday (doubtless by the power of your care), a stone almost fell on our head, and crushed us as in a mouse-trap. for in our private chamber during more than two days, lime and mortar crashed above us, until we sent for work-men, who only touched the stone with two fingers, when it fell, as large as a large pillow two hand-breadths wide. for all this we should have to thank your anxiety; had not the dear holy angels been guarding us also! i begin to be anxious that if your anxieties do not cease, at last the earth may swallow us up, and all the elements pursue us. dost thou indeed teach the catechism and the creed? do thou then pray and leave god to care, as it is promised. 'cast they burden on the lord, and he shall sustain thee.' "we would now gladly be free and journey homewards, if god willed it so. amen. amen. amen. on scholastica's day. the willing servant of your holiness, "martin luther." _february_ th. good news for us all at wittemberg! mistress luther has received a letter from the doctor, dated the th february, announcing his speedy return:-- "to my kind dear wife katharin lutherin von bora, at wittemberg. "grace and peace in the lord, dear käthe! we hope this week to come home again, if god will. god has shown us great grace; for the lords have arranged all through their referees, except two or three articles--one of which is that count gebhard and count albrecht should again become brothers, which i undertake to-day, and will invite them to be my guests, that they may speak to each other, for hitherto they have been dumb, and have embittered one another with severe letters. "the young men are all in the best spirits, make excursions with fools' bells on sledges--the young ladies also--and amuse themselves together; and among them also count gebhard's son. so we must understand god is _exauditor precum_. "i send to thee some game which the countess albrecht has presented to me. she rejoices with all her heart at the peace. thy sons are still at mansfeld. jacob luther will take good care of them. we have food and drink here like noblemen, and we are waited on well--too well, indeed--so that we might forget you at wittemberg. i have no ailments. "this thou canst show to master philip, to doctor pomer, and to doctor creuzer. the report has reached this place that doctor martin has been snatched away (_i. e._, by the devil), as they say at magdeburg and at leipzig. such fictions these countrymen compose, who see as far as their noses. some say the emperor is thirty miles from this, at soest, in westphalia; some that the frenchman is captive, and also the landgrave. but let _us_ sing and say, we will wait what god the lord will do.--eisleben, on the sunday valentini. m. luther, d." so the work of peace-making is done, and dr. luther is to return to us this week--long, we trust, to enjoy among us the peace-maker's beatitude. xxxvii. fritz's story. eisleben, . it has been quite a festival day at eisleben. the child who, sixty-three years since, was born here to john luther, the miner, returns to-day the greatest man in the empire, to arbitrate in a family dispute of the counts of mansfeld. as eva and i watched him enter the town to-day from the door of our humble happy home, she said,-- "he that is greatest among you shall be as he that doth serve." these ten last years of service have, however, aged him much! i could not conceal from myself that they had. there are traces of suffering on the expressive face, and there is a touch of feebleness in the form and step. "how is it," i said to eva, "that elsè or thekla did not tell us of this? he is certainly much feebler." "they are always with him," she said, "and we never see what time is doing, love; but only what he has done." her words made me thoughtful. could it be that such changes were passing on us also, and that we were failing to observe them? when dr. luther and the throng had passed, we returned into the house, and eva resumed her knitting, while i recommenced the study of my sermon; but secretly i raised my eyes from my books and surveyed her. if time had indeed thus been changing that beloved form, it was better i should know it, to treasure more the precious days he was so treacherously stealing. yet scarcely, with the severest scrutiny, could i detect the trace of age or suffering on her face or form. the calm brow was as white and calm as ever. the golden hair, smoothly braided under her white matronly cap, was as free from grey as even our agnes', who was flitting in and out of the winter sunshine, busy with household work in the next room. there was a roundness on the cheek, although, perhaps, its curve was a little changed; and when she looked up, and met my eyes, was there not the very same happy, child-like smile as ever, that seemed to overflow from a world of sunshine within? "no!" i said; "eva, thank god, i have not deluded myself! time has not stolen a march on you yet." "think how i have been shielded, fritz," she said. "what a sunny and sheltered life mine has been, never encountering any storm except under the shelter of such a home and such a love. but dr. luther has been so long the one foremost and highest, on whose breast the first force of every storm has burst." just then our heinz came in. "your father is trying to prove i am not growing old," she said. "who said such a thing of our mother?" asked heinz, turning fiercely to agnes. "no one," i said; "but it startled me to see the change in dr. luther, and i began to fear what changes might have been going on unobserved in our own home." "is dr. luther much changed?" said heinz. "i think i never saw a nobler face, so resolute and true, and with such a keen glance in his dark eyes. he might have been one of the emperor's greatest generals--he looks so like a veteran." "is he not a veteran, heinz?" said eva. "has he not fought all our battles for us for years? what did you think of him, agnes?" "i remember best the look he gave my father and you," she said. "his face looked so full of kindness; i thought how happy he must make his home." that evening was naturally a time, with eva and me, for going over the past. and how much of it is linked with dr. luther! that our dear home exists at all is, through god, his work. and more even than that: the freedom and peace of our hearts came to us chiefly at first through him. all the past came back to me when i saw his face again; as if suddenly flashed on me from a mirror. the days when he sang before aunt ursula cotta's door at eisenach--when the voice which has since stirred all christendom to its depths sang carols for a piece of bread. then the gradual passing away of the outward trials of poverty, through his father's prosperity and liberality--the brilliant prospects opening before him at the university--his sudden, yet deliberate closing of all those earthly schemes--the descent into the dark and bitter waters, where he fought the fight for his age, and, all but sinking, found the hand that saved him, and came to the shore again on the right side; and not alone, but upheld evermore by the hand that rescued him, and which he has made known to the hearts of thousands. then i seemed to see him stand before the emperor at worms, in that day when men did not know whether to wonder most at his gentleness or his daring--in that hour which men thought was his hour of conflict, but which was in truth his hour of triumph, after the real battle had been fought and the real victory won. and now twenty years more had passed away; the bible has been translated by him into german, and is speaking in countless homes; homes hallowed (and, in many instances, created) by his teaching. "what then," said eva, "has been gained by his teaching and his work?" "the yoke of tradition, and of the papacy, is broken," i said. "the gospel is preached in england, and, with more or less result, throughout germany. in denmark, an evangelical pastor has consecrated king christian iii. in the low countries, and elsewhere, men and women have been martyred, as in the primitive ages, for the faith. in france and in switzerland evangelical truth has been embraced by tens of thousands, although not in dr. luther's form, nor only from his lips." "these are great results," she replied; "but they are external--at least, we can only see the outside of them. what fruit is there in this little world, around us at eisleben, of whose heart we know something?" "the golden age is, indeed, not come," i said, "or the counts of mansfeld would not be quarrelling about church patronage, and needing dr. luther as a peace-maker. nor would dr. luther need so continually to warn the rich against avarice, and to denounce the selfishness which spent thousands of florins to buy exemption from future punishment, but grudges a few kreuzers to spread the glad tidings of the grace of god. if covetousness is idolatry, it is too plain that the reformation has, with many, only changed the idol." "yet," replied eva, "it is certainly something to have the idol removed from the church to the market, to have it called by a despised instead of by a hallowed name, and disguised in any rather than in sacred vestments." thus we came to the conclusion that the reformation had done for us what sunrise does. it had wakened life, and ripened real fruits of heaven in many places, and it had revealed evil and noisome things in their true forms. the world, the flesh and the devil remain unchanged; but it is much to have learned that the world is not a certain definite region outside the cloister, but an atmosphere to be guarded against as around us everywhere; that the flesh is not the love of kindred or of nature, but of _self in these_, and that the devil's most fiery dart is distrust of god. for us personally, and ours, how infinitely much dr. luther has done; and if for us and ours, how much for countless other hearts and homes unknown to us! _monday_, _february_ , . dr. luther administered the communion yesterday, and preached. it has been a great help to have him going in and out among us. four times he has preached; it seems to us, with as much point and fervour as ever. to-day, however, there was a deep solemnity about his words. his text was in matt. xi., "fear not, therefore; for there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed, and hid that shall not be known. what i tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light; and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye on the house-tops. and fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your father. but the very hairs of your head are all numbered." he must have felt feebler than he seemed, for he closed with the words-- "this, and much more, may be said from the passage; but i am too weak, and _here we will close_." eva seemed very grave all the rest of the day; and when i returned from the school on this morning, she met me with an anxious face at the door, and said-- "is the doctor better?" "i have not heard that he is ill," i said. "he was engaged with the arbitration again to-day." "i cannot get those words of his out of my head," she said; "they haunt me--'_here we will close_.' i cannot help thinking what it would be never to hear that faithful voice again." "you are depressed, my love," i said, "at the thought of dr. luther's leaving us this week. but by-and-by we will stay some little time at wittemberg, and hear him again there." "if god will!" she said gravely. "what god has given us, through him, can never be taken away." i have inquired again about him, however, frequently to-day, but there seems no cause for anxiety. he retired from the great hall where the conferences and the meals take place, at eight o'clock; and this evening, as often before during his visit, dr. jonas overheard him praying aloud at the window of his chamber. _thursday, th february_. the worst--the very worst--has come to pass! the faithful voice is, indeed, silenced to us on earth for ever. here where the life began it has closed. he who, sixty-three years ago, lay here a little helpless babe, lies here again a lifeless corpse. yet it is not with sixty-three years ago, but with three days since that we feel the bitter contrast. three days ago he was among us the counsellor, the teacher, the messenger of god, and now that heart, so open, so tender to sympathize with sorrows, and so strong to bear a nation's burden, has ceased to beat. yesterday it was observed that he was feeble and ailing. the princes of anhalt and the count albert of mansfeld, with dr. jonas and his other friends, entreated him to rest in his own room during the morning. he was not easily persuaded to spare himself, and probably would not have yielded then, had he not felt that the work of reconciliation was accomplished, in all save a few supplementary details. much of the forenoon, therefore, he reposed on a leathern couch in his room, occasionally rising, with the restlessness of illness, and pacing the room, or standing in the window praying, so that dr. jonas and coelius, who were in another part of the room, could hear him. he dined, however, at noon, in the great hall, with those assembled there. at dinner he said to some near him, "if i can, indeed, reconcile the rulers of my birth-place with each other, and then, with god's permission, accomplish the journey back to wittemberg, i would go home and lay myself down to sleep in my grave, and let the worms devour my body." he was not one weakly to sigh for sleep before night; and we now know too well from how deep a sense of bodily weariness and weakness that wish sprang. tension of heart and mind, and incessant work,--the toil of a daily mechanical labourer, with the keen, continuous thought of the highest thinker,--working as much as any drudging slave, and as intensely as if all he did was his delight,--at sixty-three the strong, peasant frame was worn out as most men's are at eighty, and he longed for rest. in the afternoon he complained of painful pressure on the breast, and requested that it might be rubbed with warm cloths. this relieved him a little; and he went to supper again with his friends in the great hall. at table he spoke much of eternity, and said he believed his own death was near; yet his conversation was not only cheerful, but at times gay, although it related chiefly to the future world. one near him asked whether departed saints would recognize each other in heaven. he said, yes, he thought they would. when he left the supper-table he went to his room. in the night,--last night,--his two sons, paul and martin, thirteen and fourteen years of age, sat up to watch with him, with justus jonas, whose joys and sorrows he had shared through so many years. coelius and aurifaber also were with him. the pain in the breast returned, and again they tried rubbing him with hot cloths. count albert came, and the countess, with two physicians, and brought him some shavings from the tusk of a sea-unicorn, deemed a sovereign remedy he took it, and slept till ten. then he awoke, and attempted once more to pace the room a little; but he could not, and returned to bed. then he slept again till one. during those two or three hours of sleep, his host albrecht, with his wife, ambrose, jonas, and luther's son, watched noiselessly beside him, quietly keeping up the fire. everything depended on how long he slept, and how he woke. the first words he spoke when he awoke sent a shudder of apprehension through their hearts. he complained of cold, and asked them to pile up more fire. alas! the chill was creeping over him which no effort of man could remove. dr. jonas asked him if he felt very weak. "oh," he replied, "how i suffer! my dear jonas, i think i shall die here, at eisleben, where i was born and baptized." his other friends were awakened, and brought in to his bed-side. jonas spoke of the sweat on his brow as a hopeful sign, but dr. luther answered-- "it is the cold sweat of death. i must yield up my spirit, for my sickness increaseth." then he prayed fervently, saying-- "heavenly father! everlasting and merciful god thou hast revealed to me thy dear son, our lord jesus christ. him have i taught; him have i experienced; him have i confessed; him i love and adore as my beloved saviour, sacrifice, and redeemer--him whom the godless persecute, dishonour, and reproach. o heavenly father, though i must resign my body, and be borne away from this life, i know that i shall be with him for ever. take my poor soul up to thee!" afterwards he took a little medicine, and, assuring his friends that he was dying, said three times-- "father, into thy hands do i commend my spirit. thou hast redeemed me, thou faithful god. truly _god hath so loved the world_!" then he lay quiet and motionless. those around sought to rouse him, and began to rub his chest and limbs, and spoke to him, but he made no reply. then jonas and coelius, for the solace of the many who had received the truth from his lips, spoke aloud, and said-- "venerable father, do you die trusting in christ, and in the doctrine you have constantly preached?" he answered by an audible and joyful "yes!" that was his last word on earth. then turning on his right side, he seemed to fall peaceably asleep for a quarter of an hour. once more hope awoke in the hearts of his children and his friends; but the physician told them it was no favourable symptom. a light was brought near his face; a death-like paleness was creeping over it, and his hands and feet were becoming cold. gently once more he sighed; and, with hands folded on his breast, yielded up his spirit to god without a struggle. this was at four o'clock in the morning of the th of february. and now, in the house opposite the church where he was baptized, and signed with the cross for the christian warfare, martin luther lies--his warfare accomplished, his weapons laid aside, his victory won--at rest beneath the standard he has borne so nobly. in the place where his eyes opened on this earthly life his spirit has awakened to the heavenly life. often he used to speak of death as the christian's true birth, and of this life as but a growing into the chrysalis-shell in which the spirit lives till its being is developed, and it bursts the shell, casts off the web, struggles into life, spreads its wings and sours up to god. to eva and me it seems a strange, mysterious seal set on his faith, that his birth-place and his place of death--the scene of his nativity to earth and heaven--should be the same. we can only say, amidst irrepressible tears, those words often on his lips, "o death! bitter to those whom thou leavest in life!" and "fear not, _god liveth still_." xxxviii. elsè's story. _march_, it is all over. the beloved, revered form is with us again, but luther our father, our pastor, our friend, will never be amongst us more. his ceaseless toil and care for us all have worn him out,--the care which wastes life more than sorrow,--care such as no man knew since the apostle paul, which only faith such as st. paul's enabled him to sustain so long. this morning his widow, his orphan sons and daughter, and many of the students and citizens went out to the eastern gate of the city to meet the funeral procession. slowly it passed through the streets, so crowded, yet so silent, to the city church where he used to preach. fritz came with the procession from eisleben, and eva, with heinz and agnes, are also with us, for it seemed a necessity to us all once more to feel and see our beloved around us, now that death has shown us the impotence of a nation's love to retain the life dearest and most needed of all. fritz has been telling us of that mournful funeral journey from eisleben. the counts of mansfeld, with more than fifty horsemen, and many princes, counts, and barons, accompanied the coffin. in every village through which they passed the church-bells tolled as if for the prince of the land; at every city gate magistrates, clergy, young and old, matrons, maidens, and little children, thronged to meet the procession, clothed in mourning, and chanting funeral hymns?--german evangelical hymns of hope and trust, such as he had taught them to sing. in the last church in which it lay before reaching its final resting-place at wittemberg, the people gathered around it, and sang one of his own hymns, "i journey hence in peace," with voices broken by sobs and floods of tears. thus day and night the silent body was borne slowly through the thuringian land. the peasants once more remembered his faithful affection for them, and everywhere, from village and hamlet, and from every little group of cottages, weeping men and women pressed forward to do honour to the poor remains of him they had so often misunderstood in life. after pastor bugenhagen's funeral sermon from luther's pulpit, melancthon spoke a few words beside the coffin in the city church. they loved each other well. when melancthon heard of his death he was most deeply affected, and said in the lecture-room,-- "the doctrine of the forgiveness of sins and of faith in the son of god, has not been discovered by any human understanding, but has been revealed unto us by god _through this man_ whom he has raised up." in the city church, beside the coffin, before the body was lowered into its last resting-place near the pulpit where he preached, dr. melancthon pronounced these words in latin, which caspar creutziger immediately translated into german,-- "every one who truly knew him, must bear witness that he was a benevolent, charitable man, gracious in all his discourse, kindly and most worthy of love, and neither rash, passionate, self-willed, or ready to take offence. and, nevertheless, there were also in him an earnestness and courage in his words and bearing such as become a man like him. his heart was true and faithful, and without falsehood. the severity which he used against the foes of the doctrine in his writings did not proceed from a quarrelsome or angry disposition, but from great earnestness and zeal for the truth. he always showed a high courage and manhood, and it was no little roar of the enemy which could appall him. menaces, dangers, and terror dismayed him not. so high and keen was his understanding, that he alone in complicated, dark, and difficult affairs soon perceived what was to be counselled and to be done. neither, as some think, was he regardless of authority, but diligently regarded the mind and will of those with whom he had to do. his doctrine did not consist in rebellious opinions made known with violence; it is rather an interpretation of the divine will and of the true worship of god, an explanation of the word of god, namely of the gospel of christ. now he is united with the prophets of whom he loved to talk. now they greet him as their fellow-labourer, and with him praise the lord who gathers and preserves his church. but we must retain a perpetual, undying recollection of this our beloved father, and never let his memory fade from our hearts." his effigy will be placed in the city church, but his living portrait is enshrined in countless hearts. his monuments are the schools throughout the land, every hallowed pastor's home, and above all, "the german bible for the german people!" wittemberg, _april_, . we stand now in the foremost rank of the generations of our time. our father's house on earth has passed away for ever. gently, not long after dr luther's death, our gentle mother passed away, and our father entered on the fulfilment of those never-failing hopes to which, since his blindness, his buoyant heart has learned more and more to cling. scarcely separated a year from each other, both in extreme old age, surrounded by all dearest to them on earth, they fell asleep in jesus. and now fritz, who has an appointment at the university, lives in the paternal house with his eva and our thekla, and the children. of all our family i sometimes think thekla's life is the most blessed. in our evangelical church, also, i perceive, god by his providence makes nuns; good women, whose wealth of love is poured out in the church; whose inner as well as whose outer circle is the family of god. how many whom she has trained in the school and nursed in the seasons of pestilence or adversity, live on earth to call her blessed, or live in heaven to receive her into the everlasting habitations! and among the reasons why her life is so high and loving, no doubt one is, that socially her position is one not of exaltation but of lowliness. she has not replaced, by any conventional dignities of the cloister, god's natural dignities of wife and mother. through life hers has been the _lowest_ place; therefore, among other reasons, i oft think in heaven it may be the _highest_. but we shall not grudge it her, eva and chriemhild and atlantis and i. with what joy shall we see those meek and patient brows crowned with the brightest crowns of glory and immortal joy! the little garden behind the augustei has become a sacred place. luther's widow and children still live there. those who knew him, and therefore loved him best, find a sad pleasure in lingering under the shadow of the trees which used to shelter him, beside the fountain and the little fish-pond which he made, and the flowers he planted, and recalling his words and his familiar ways; how he used to thank god for the fish from the pond, and the vegetables sent to his table from the garden; how he used to wonder at the providence of god, who fed the sparrows and all the little birds, "which must cost him more in a year than the revenue of the king of france;" how he rejoiced in the "dew, that wonderful work of god," and the rose, which no artist could imitate, and the voice of the birds. how living the narratives of the bible became when he spoke of them!--of the great apostle paul whom he so honoured, but pictured as "an insignificant-looking, meagre man, like philip melancthon;" or of the virgin mary, "who must have been a high and noble creature, a fair and gracious maiden, with a kind sweet voice;" or of the lowly home at nazareth, "where the saviour of the world was brought up as a little obedient child." and not one of us, with all his vehemence, could ever remember a jealous or suspicious word, or a day of estrangement, so generous and trustful was his nature. often, also, came back to us the tones of that rich, true voice, and of the lute or lyre, which used so frequently to sound from the dwelling-room with the large window, at his friendly entertainments, or in his more solitary hours. then, in twilight hours of quiet, intimate converse, mistress luther can recall to us the habits of his more inner home life--how in his sicknesses he used to comfort her, and when she was weeping would say, with irrepressible tears, "dear käthe, our children trust us, though they cannot understand; so must we trust god. it is well if we do; all comes from him." and his prayers morning and evening, and frequently at meals, and at other times in the day--his devout repeating of the smaller catechism "to god"--his frequent fervent utterance of the lord's prayer, or of psalms from the psalter, which he always carried with him as a pocket prayer-book. or, at other times, she may speak reverently of his hours of conflict, when his prayers became a tempest--a torrent of vehement supplication--a wrestling with god, a son in agony at the feet of a father. or, again, of his sudden wakings in the night, to encounter the unseen devil with fervent prayer, or scornful defiance, or words of truth and faith. more than one among us knew what reason he had to believe in the efficacy of prayer. melancthon, especially, can never forget the day when he lay at the point of death, half unconscious, with eyes growing dim, and luther came and exclaimed with dismay,-- "god save us! how successfully has the devil misused this mortal frame!" and then turning from the company towards the window, to pray, looking up to the heavens, he came (as he himself said afterwards), "as a mendicant and a suppliant to god, and pressed him with all the promises of the holy scriptures he could recall; so that god must hear me, if ever again i should trust his promises." after that prayer, he took melancthon by the hand, and said, "be of good cheer, philip, you will not die." and from that moment melancthon began to revive and recover consciousness, and was restored to health. especially, however, we treasure all he said of death and the resurrection, of heaven and the future world of righteousness and joy, of which he so delighted to speak. a few of these sayings i may record for my children. "in the papacy, they made pilgrimages to the shrines of the saints--to rome, jerusalem, st. jago--to atone for sins. but now, we in faith can make true pilgrimages which really please god. when we diligently read the prophets, psalms, and evangelists, we journey towards god, not through cities of the saints, but in our thoughts and hearts, and visit the true promised land and paradise of everlasting life. "the devil has sworn our death, but he will crack a deaf nut. the kernel will be gone." he had so often been dangerously ill that the thought of death was very familiar to him. in one of his sicknesses he said, "i know i shall not live long. my brain is like a knife worn to the hilt; it can cut no longer." "at coburg i used to go about and seek for a quiet place where i might be buried, and in the chapel under the cross i thought i could lie well. but now i am worse than then. god grant me a happy end! i have no desire to live longer." when asked if people could be saved under the papacy who had never heard his doctrine of the gospel, he said, "many a monk have i seen, before whom, on his death-bed, they held the crucifix, as was then the custom. through faith in his merits and passion, they may, indeed, have been saved." "what is our sleep," he said, "but a kind of death? and what is death itself but a night sleep? in sleep all weariness is laid aside, and we become cheerful again, and rise in the morning fresh and well. so shall we awake from our graves in the last day, as though we had only slept a night, and bathe our eyes and rise fresh and well. "i shall rise," he said, "and converse with you again. this finger, on which is this ring, shall be given to me again. all must be restored. 'god will create new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.' there all will be pure rapture and joy. those heavens and that earth will be no dry, barren sand. when a man is happy, a tree, a nosegay, a flower, can give him gladness. heaven and earth will be renewed, and we who believe shall be everywhere _at home_. here it is not so; we are driven hither and thither, that we may have to sigh for that heavenly fatherland." "when christ causes the trumpet to peal at the last day, all will come forth like the insects which in winter lie as dead, but when the sun comes, awake to life again; or as the birds who lie all the winter hidden in clefts of the rocks, or in hollow banks by the river sides, yet live again in the spring." he said at another time, "go into the garden, and ask the cherry-tree how it is possible that from a dry, dead twig, can spring a little bud, and from the bud can grow cherries. go into the house and ask the matron how it can be that from the eggs under the hen living chickens will come forth. for if god does thus with cherries and birds, canst thou not honour him by trusting that if he let the winter come over thee--suffer thee to die and decay in the ground--he can also, in the true summer, bring thee forth again from the earth, and awaken thee from the dead?" "o gracious god!" he exclaimed, "come quickly, come at last! i wait ever for that day--that morning of spring!" and he waits for it still. not now, indeed, on earth, "in what kind of place we know not," as he said; "but most surely free from all grief and pain, resting in peace and in the love and grace of god." we also wait for that day of redemption, still in the weak flesh and amidst the storm and the conflict; but strong and peaceful in the truth martin luther taught us, and in the god he trusted to the last. the end. elizabethan demonology an essay in illustration of the belief in the existence of devils, and the powers possessed by them, as it was generally held during the period of the reformation, and the times immediately succeeding; with special reference to shakspere and his works by thomas alfred spalding, ll.b. (lond.) barrister-at-law, honorary treasurer of the new shakspere society london to robert browning, president of the new shakspere society, this volume is dedicated. forewords. this essay is an expansion, in accordance with a preconceived scheme, of two papers, one on "the witches in macbeth," and the other on "the demonology of shakspere," which were read before the new shakspere society in the years and . the shakspere references in the text are made to the globe edition. the writer's best thanks are due to his friends mr. f.j. furnivall and mr. lauriston e. shaw, for their kindness in reading the proof sheets, and suggesting emendations. temple, october , . "we are too hasty when we set down our ancestors in the gross for fools for the monstrous inconsistencies (as they seem to us) involved in their creed of witchcraft."--c. lamb. "but i will say, of shakspere's works generally, that we have no full impress of him there, even as full as we have of many men. his works are so many windows, through which we see a glimpse of the world that was in him."--t. carlyle. analysis. i. . difficulty in understanding our elder writers without a knowledge of their language and ideas. . especially in the case of dramatic poets. . examples. hamlet's "assume a virtue." . changes in ideas and law relating to marriage. massinger's "maid of honour" as an example. . _sponsalia de futuro_ and _sponsalia de praesenti_. shakspere's marriage. . student's duty is to get to know the opinions and feelings of the folk amongst whom his author lived. . it will be hard work, but a gain in the end. first, in preventing conceit. . secondly, in preventing rambling reading. . author's present object to illustrate the dead belief in demonology, especially as far as it concerns shakspere. he thinks that this may perhaps bring us into closer contact with shakspere's soul. . some one objects that shakspere can speak better for himself. yes, but we must be sure that we understand the media through which he speaks. . division of subject. ii. . reasons why the empire of the supernatural is so extended amongst savages. . all important affairs of life transacted under superintendence of supreme powers. . what are these powers? three principles regarding them. . (i.) incapacity of mankind to accept monotheism. the jews. . roman catholicism really polytheistic, although believers won't admit it. virgin mary. saints. angels. protestantism in the same condition in a less degree. . francis of assisi. gradually made into a god. . (ii.) manichaeism. evil spirits as inevitable as good. . (iii.) tendency to treat the gods of hostile religions as devils. . in the greek theology. [greek: daimones]. platonism. . neo-platonism. makes the elder gods into daemons. . judaism. recognizes foreign gods at first. _elohim_, but they get degraded in time. beelzebub, belial, etc. . early christians treat gods of greece in the same way. st. paul's view. . the church, however, did not stick to its colours in this respect. honesty not the best policy. a policy of compromise. . the oracles. sosthenion and st. michael. delphi. st. gregory's saintliness and magnanimity. confusion of pagan gods and christian saints. . church in north europe. thonar, etc., are devils, but balda gets identified with christ. . conversion of britons. their gods get turned into fairies rather than devils. deuce. old nick. . subsequent evolution of belief. carlyle's abbot sampson. religious formulae of witchcraft. . the reformers and catholics revive the old accusations. the reformers only go half-way in scepticism. calfhill and martiall. . catholics. siege of alkmaar. unfortunate mistake of a spanish prisoner. . conditions that tended to vivify the belief during elizabethan era. . the new freedom. want of rules of evidence. arthur hacket and his madnesses. sneezing. cock-crowing. jackdaw in the house of commons. russell and drake both mistaken for devils. . credulousness of people. "to make one danse naked." a parson's proof of transubstantiation. . but the elizabethans had strong common sense nevertheless. people do wrong if they set them down as fools. if we had not learned to be wiser than they, we should have to be ashamed of ourselves. we shall learn nothing from them if we don't try to understand them. iii. . the three heads. . (i.) classification of devils. greater and lesser devils. good and bad angels. . another classification, not popular. . names of greater devils. horribly uncouth. the number of them. shakspere's devils. . (ii.) form of devils of the greater. . of the lesser. the horns, goggle eyes, and tail. scot's carnal-mindedness. he gets his book burnt, and written against by james i. . spenser's idol-devil. . dramatists' satire of popular opinion. . favourite form for appearing in when conjured. devils in macbeth. . powers of devils. . catholic belief in devil's power to create bodies. . reformers deny this, but admit that he deceives people into believing that he can do so, either by getting hold of a dead body, and restoring animation. . or by means of illusion. . the common people stuck to the catholic doctrine. devils appear in likeness of an ordinary human being. . even a living one, which was sometimes awkward. "the troublesome raigne of king john." they like to appear as priests or parsons. the devil quoting scripture. . other human shapes. . animals. ariel. . puck. . "the witch of edmonton." the devil on the stage. flies. urban grandier. sir m. hale. . devils as angels. as christ. . as dead friend. reformers denied the possibility of ghosts, and said the appearances so called were devils. james i. and his opinion. . the common people believed in the ghosts. bishop pilkington's troubles. . the two theories. illustrated in "julius caesar," "macbeth." . and "hamlet." . this explains an apparent inconsistency in "hamlet." . possession and obsession. again the catholics and protestants differ. . but the common people believe in possession. . ignorance on the subject of mental disease. the exorcists. . john cotta on possession. what the "learned physicion" knew. . what was manifest to the vulgar view. will sommers. "the devil is an ass." . harsnet's "declaration," and "king lear." . the babington conspiracy. . weston, alias edmonds. his exorcisms. mainy. the basis of harsnet's statements. . the devils in "lear." . edgar and mainy. mainy's loose morals. . the devils tempt with knives and halters. . mainy's seven devils: pride, covetousness, luxury, envy, wrath, gluttony, sloth. the nightingale business. . treatment of the possessed: confinement, flagellation. . dr pinch. nicknames. . other methods. that of "elias and pawle". the holy chair, sack and oil, brimstone. . firing out. . bodily diseases the work of the devil. bishop hooper on hygiene. . but devils couldn't kill people unless they renounced god. . witchcraft. . people now-a-days can't sympathize with the witch persecutors, because they don't believe in the devil. satan is a mere theory now. . but they believed in him once, and therefore killed people that were suspected of having to do with him. . and we don't sympathize with the persecuted witches, although we make a great fuss about the sufferings of the reformers. . the witches in macbeth. some take them to be norns. . gervinus. his opinion. . mr. f.g. fleay. his opinion. . evidence. simon forman's note. . holinshed's account. . criticism. . it is said that the appearance and powers of the sisters are not those of witches. . it is going to be shown that they are. . a third piece of criticism. . objections. . contemporary descriptions of witches. scot, harsnet. witches' beards. . have norns chappy fingers, skinny lips, and beards? . powers of witches "looking into the seeds of time." bessie roy, how she looked into them. . meaning of first scene of "macbeth." . witches power to vanish. ointments for the purpose. scot's instance of their efficacy. . "weird sisters." . other evidence. . why shakspere chose witches. command over elements. . peculiar to scotch trials of - . . earlier case of bessie dunlop--a poor, starved, half daft creature. "thom reid," and how he tempted her. her canny scotch prudence. poor bessie gets burnt for all that. . reason for peculiarity of trials of . james ii. comes from denmark to scotland. the witches raise a storm at the instigation of the devil. how the trials were conducted. . john fian. raising a mist. toad-omen. ship sinking. . sieve-sailing. excitement south of the border. the "daemonologie." statute of james against witchcraft. . the origin of the incubus and succubus. . mooncalves. . division of opinion amongst reformers regarding devils. giordano bruno. bullinger's opinion about sadducees and epicures. . emancipation a gradual process. exorcism in edward vi.'s prayer-book. . the author hopes he has been reverent in his treatment of the subject. any sincere belief entitled to respect. our pet beliefs may some day appear as dead and ridiculous as these. iv. . fairies and devils differ in degree, not in origin. . evidence. . cause of difference. folk, until disturbed by religious doubt, don't believe in devils, but fairies. . reformation shook people up, and made them think of hell and devils. . the change came in the towns before the country. fairies held on a long time in the country. . shakspere was early impressed with fairy lore. in middle life, came in contact with town thought and devils, and at the end of it returned to stratford and fairydom. . this is reflected in his works. . but there is progression of thought to be observed in these stages. . shakspere indirectly tells us his thoughts, if we will take the trouble to learn them. . three stages of thought that men go through on religious matters. hereditary belief. scepticism. reasoned belief. . shakspere went through all this. . illustrations. hereditary belief. "a midsummer night's dream." fairies chiefly an adaptation of current tradition. . the dawn of doubt. . scepticism. evil spirits dominant. no guiding good. . corresponding lapse of faith in other matters. woman's purity. . man's honour. . mr. ruskin's view of shakspere's message. . founded chiefly on plays of sceptical period. message of third period entirely different. . reasoned belief. "the tempest." . man can master evil of all forms if he go about it in the right way--is not the toy of fate. . prospero a type of shakspere in this final stage of thought. how pleasant to think this! elizabethan demonology. . it is impossible to understand and appreciate thoroughly the production of any great literary genius who lived and wrote in times far removed from our own, without a certain amount of familiarity, not only with the precise shades of meaning possessed by the vocabulary he made use of, as distinguished from the sense conveyed by the same words in the present day, but also with the customs and ideas, political, religious and moral, that predominated during the period in which his works were produced. without such information, it will be found impossible, in many matters of the first importance, to grasp the writer's true intent, and much will appear vague and lifeless that was full of point and vigour when it was first conceived; or, worse still, modern opinion upon the subject will be set up as the standard of interpretation, ideas will be forced into the writer's sentences that could not by any manner of possibility have had place in his mind, and utterly false conclusions as to his meaning will be the result. even the man who has had some experience in the study of an early literature, occasionally finds some difficulty in preventing the current opinions of his day from obtruding themselves upon his work and warping his judgment; to the general reader this must indeed be a frequent and serious stumbling-block. . this is a special source of danger in the study of the works of dramatic poets, whose very art lies in the representation of the current opinions, habits, and foibles of their times--in holding up the mirror to their age. it is true that, if their works are to live, they must deal with subjects of more than mere passing interest; but it is also true that many, and the greatest of them, speak upon questions of eternal interest in the particular light cast upon them in their times, and it is quite possible that the truth may be entirely lost from want of power to recognize it under the disguise in which it comes. a certain motive, for instance, that is an overpowering one in a given period, subsequently appears grotesque, weak, or even powerless; the consequent action becomes incomprehensible, and the actor is contemned; and a simile that appeared most appropriate in the ears of the author's contemporaries, seems meaningless, or ridiculous, to later generations. . an example or two of this possibility of error, derived from works produced during the period with which it is the object of these pages to deal, will not be out of place here. a very striking illustration of the manner in which a word may mislead is afforded by the oft-quoted line: "assume a virtue, if you have it not." by most readers the secondary, and, in the present day, almost universal, meaning of the word assume--"pretend that to be, which in reality has no existence;"--that is, in the particular case, "ape the chastity you do not in reality possess"--is understood in this sentence; and consequently hamlet, and through him, shakspere, stand committed to the appalling doctrine that hypocrisy in morals is to be commended and cultivated. now, such a proposition never for an instant entered shakspere's head. he used the word "assume" in this case in its primary and justest sense; _ad-sumo_, take to, acquire; and the context plainly shows that hamlet meant that his mother, by self-denial, would gradually acquire that virtue in which she was so conspicuously wanting. yet, for lack of a little knowledge of the history of the word employed, the other monstrous gloss has received almost universal and applauding acceptance. . this is a fair example of the style of error which a reader unacquainted with the history of the changes our language has undergone may fall into. ignorance of changes in customs and morals may cause equal or greater error. the difference between the older and more modern law, and popular opinion, relating to promises of marriage and their fulfilment, affords a striking illustration of the absurdities that attend upon the interpretation of the ideas of one generation by the practice of another. perhaps no greater nonsense has been talked upon any subject than this one, especially in relation to shakspere's own marriage, by critics who seem to have thought that a fervent expression of acute moral feeling would replace and render unnecessary patient investigation. in illustration of this difference, a play of massinger's, "the maid of honour," may be advantageously cited, as the catastrophe turns upon this question of marriage contracts. camiola, the heroine, having been precontracted by oath[ ] to bertoldo, the king's natural brother, and hearing of his subsequent engagement to the duchess of sienna, determines to quit the world and take the veil. but before doing so, and without informing any one, except her confessor, of her intention, she contrives a somewhat dramatic scene for the purpose of exposing her false lover. she comes into the presence of the king and all the court, produces her contract, claims bertoldo as her husband, and demands justice of the king, adjuring him that he shall not-- "swayed or by favour or affection, by a false gloss or wrested comment, alter the true intent and letter of the law." [footnote : act v. sc. i.] now, the only remedy that would occur to the mind of the reader of the present day under such circumstances, would be an action for breach of promise of marriage, and he would probably be aware of the very recent origin of that method of procedure. the only reply, therefore, that he would expect from roberto would be a mild and sympathetic assurance of inability to interfere; and he must be somewhat taken aback to find this claim of camiola admitted as indisputable. the riddle becomes somewhat further involved when, having established her contract, she immediately intimates that she has not the slightest intention of observing it herself, by declaring her desire to take the veil. . this can only be explained by the rules current at the time regarding spousals. the betrothal, or handfasting, was, in massinger's time, a ceremony that entailed very serious obligations upon the parties to it. there were two classes of spousals--_sponsalia de futuro_ and _sponsalia de praesenti_: a promise of marriage in the future, and an actual declaration of present marriage. this last form of betrothal was, in fact, marriage, as far as the contracting parties were concerned.[ ] it could not, even though not consummated, be dissolved by mutual consent; and a subsequent marriage, even though celebrated with religious rites, was utterly invalid, and could be set aside at the suit of the injured person. [footnote : swinburne, a treatise of spousals, , p. . in england the offspring were, nevertheless, illegitimate.] the results entailed by _sponsalia de futuro_ were less serious. although no spousals of the same nature could be entered into with a third person during the existence of the contract, yet it could be dissolved by mutual consent, and was dissolved by subsequent _sponsalia in praesenti_, or matrimony. but such spousals could be converted into valid matrimony by the cohabitation of the parties; and this, instead of being looked upon as reprehensible, seems to have been treated as a laudable action, and to be by all means encouraged.[ ] in addition to this, completion of a contract for marriage _de futuro_ confirmed by oath, if such a contract were not indeed indissoluble, as was thought by some, could at any rate be enforced against an unwilling party. but there were some reasons that justified the dissolution of _sponsalia_ of either description. affinity was one of these; and--what is to the purpose here, in england before the reformation, and in those parts of the continent unaffected by it--the entrance into a religious order was another. here, then, we have a full explanation of camiola's conduct. she is in possession of evidence of a contract of marriage between herself and bertoldo, which, whether _in praesenti_ or _in futuro_, being confirmed by oath, she can force upon him, and which will invalidate his proposed marriage with the duchess. having established her right, she takes the only step that can with certainty free both herself and bertoldo from the bond they had created, by retiring into a nunnery. [footnote : swinburne, p. .] this explanation renders the action of the play clear, and at the same time shows that shakspere in his conduct with regard to his marriage may have been behaving in the most honourable and praiseworthy manner; as the bond, with the date of which the date of the birth of his first child is compared, is for the purpose of exonerating the ecclesiastics from any liability for performing the ecclesiastical ceremony, which was not at all a necessary preliminary to a valid marriage, so far as the husband and wife were concerned, although it was essential to render issue of the marriage legitimate. . these are instances of the deceptions that are likely to arise from the two fertile sources that have been specified. there can be no doubt that the existence of errors arising from the former source--misapprehension of the meaning of words--is very generally admitted, and effectual remedies have been supplied by modern scholars for those who will make use of them. errors arising from the latter source are not so entirely recognized, or so securely guarded against. but what has just been said surely shows that it is of no use reading a writer of a past age with merely modern conceptions; and, therefore, that if such a man's works are worth study at all, they must be read with the help of the light thrown upon them by contemporary history, literature, laws, and morals. the student must endeavour to divest himself, as far as possible, of all ideas that are the result of a development subsequent to the time in which his author lived, and to place himself in harmony with the life and thoughts of the people of that age: sit down with them in their homes, and learn the sources of their loves, their hates, their fears, and see wherein domestic happiness, or lack of it, made them strong or weak; follow them to the market-place, and witness their dealings with their fellows--the honesty or baseness of them, and trace the cause; look into their very hearts, if it may be, as they kneel at the devotion they feel or simulate, and become acquainted with the springs of their dearest aspirations and most secret prayers. . a hard discipline, no doubt, but not more hard than salutary. salutary in two ways. first, as a test of the student's own earnestness of purpose. for in these days of revival of interest in our elder literature, it has become much the custom for flippant persons, who are covetous of being thought "well-read" by their less-enterprising companions, to skim over the surface of the pages of the wisest and noblest of our great teachers, either not understanding, or misunderstanding them. "i have read chaucer, shakspere, milton," is the sublimely satirical expression constantly heard from the mouths of those who, having read words set down by the men they name, have no more capacity for reading the hearts of the men themselves, through those words, than a blind man has for discerning the colour of flowers. as a consequence of this flippancy of reading, numberless writers, whose works have long been consigned to a well-merited oblivion, have of late years been disinterred and held up for public admiration, chiefly upon the ground that they are ancient and unknown. the man who reads for the sake of having done so, not for the sake of the knowledge gained by doing so, finds as much charm in these petty writers as in the greater, and hence their transient and undeserved popularity. it would be well, then, for every earnest student, before beginning the study of any one having pretensions to the position of a master, and who is not of our own generation, to ask himself, "am i prepared thoroughly to sift out and ascertain the true import of every allusion contained in this volume?" and if he cannot honestly answer "yes," let him shut the book, assured that he is not impelled to the study of it by a sincere thirst for knowledge, but by impertinent curiosity, or a shallow desire to obtain undeserved credit for learning. . the second way in which such a discipline will prove salutary is this: it will prevent the student from straying too far afield in his reading. the number of "classical" authors whose works will repay such severe study is extremely limited. however much enthusiasm he may throw into his studies, he will find that nine-tenths of our older literature yields too small a harvest of instruction to attract any but the pedant to expend so much labour upon them. the two great vices of modern reading will be avoided--flippancy on the one hand, and pedantry on the other. . the object, therefore, which i have had in view in the compilation of the following pages, is to attempt to throw some additional light upon a condition of thought, utterly different from any belief that has firm hold in the present generation, that was current and peculiarly prominent during the lifetime of the man who bears overwhelmingly the greatest name, either in our own or any other literature. it may be said, and perhaps with much force, that enough, and more than enough, has been written in the way of shakspere criticism. but is it not better that somewhat too much should be written upon such a subject than too little? we cannot expect that every one shall see all the greatness of shakspere's vast and complex mind--by one a truth will be grasped that has eluded the vigilance of others;--and it is better that those who can by no possibility grasp anything at all should have patient hearing, rather than that any additional light should be lost. the useless, lifeless criticism vanishes quietly away into chaos; the good remains quietly to be useful: and it is in reliance upon the justice and certainty of this law that i aim at bringing before the mind, as clearly as may be, a phase of belief that was continually and powerfully influencing shakspere during the whole of his life, but is now well-nigh forgotten or entirely misunderstood. if the endeavour is a useless and unprofitable one, let it be forgotten--i am content; but i hope to be able to show that an investigation of the subject does furnish us with a key which, in a manner, unlocks the secrets of shakspere's heart, and brings us closer to the real living man--to the very soul of him who, with hardly any history in the accepted sense of the word, has left us in his works a biography of far deeper and more precious meaning, if we will but understand it. . but it may be said that shakspere, of all men, is able to speak for himself without aid or comment. his works appeal to all, young and old, in every time, every nation. it is true; he can be understood. he is, to use again ben jonson's oft-quoted words, "not of an age, but for all time." yet he is so thoroughly imbued with the spirit and opinions of his era, that without a certain comprehension of the men of the elizabethan period he cannot be understood fully. indeed, his greatness is to a large extent due to his sympathy with the men around him, his power of clearly thinking out the answers to the all-time questions, and giving a voice to them that his contemporaries could understand;--answers that others could not for themselves formulate--could, perhaps, only vaguely and dimly feel after. to understand these answers fully, the language in which they were delivered must be first thoroughly mastered. . i intend, therefore, to attempt to sketch out the leading features of a phase of religious belief that acquired peculiar distinctness and prominence during shakspere's lifetime--more, perhaps, than it ever did before, or has done since--the belief in the existence of evil spirits, and their influence upon and dealings with mankind. the subject will be treated in three sections. the first will contain a short statement of the laws that seem to be of universal operation in the creation and maintenance of the belief in a multitudinous band of spirits, good and evil; and of a few of the conditions of the elizabethan epoch that may have had a formative and modifying influence upon that belief. the second will be devoted to an outline of the chief features of that belief, as it existed at the time in question--the organization, appearance, and various functions and powers of the evil spirits, with special reference to shakspere's plays. the third and concluding section, will embody an attempt to trace the growth of shakspere's thought upon religious matters through the medium of his allusions to this subject. * * * * * . the empire of the supernatural must obviously be most extended where civilization is the least advanced. an educated man has to make a conscious, and sometimes severe, effort to refrain from pronouncing a dogmatic opinion as to the cause of a given result when sufficient evidence to warrant a definite conclusion is wanting; to the savage, the notion of any necessity for, or advantage to be derived from, such self-restraint never once occurs. neither the lightning that strikes his hut, the blight that withers his crops, the disease that destroys the life of those he loves; nor, on the other hand, the beneficent sunshine or life-giving rain, is by him traceable to any known physical cause. they are the results of influences utterly beyond his understanding--supernatural,--matters upon which imagination is allowed free scope to run riot, and from which spring up a legion of myths, or attempts to represent in some manner these incomprehensible processes, grotesque or poetic, according to the character of the people with which they originate, which, if their growth be not disturbed by extraneous influences, eventually develop into the national creed. the most ordinary events of the savage's every-day life do not admit of a natural solution; his whole existence is bound in, from birth to death, by a network of miracles, and regulated, in its smallest details, by unseen powers of whom he knows little or nothing. . hence it is that, in primitive societies, the functions of legislator, judge, priest, and medicine man are all combined in one individual, the great medium of communication between man and the unknown, whose person is pre-eminently sacred. the laws that are to guide the community come in some mysterious manner through him from the higher powers. if two members of the clan are involved in a quarrel, he is appealed to to apply some test in order to ascertain which of the two is in the wrong--an ordeal that can have no judicial operation, except upon the assumption of the existence of omnipotent beings interested in the discovery of evil-doers, who will prevent the test from operating unjustly. maladies and famines are unmistakeable signs of the displeasure of the good, or spite of the bad spirits, and are to be averted by some propitiatory act on the part of the sufferers, or the mediation of the priest-doctor. the remedy that would put an end to a long-continued drought will be equally effective in arresting an epidemic. . but who, and of what nature, are these supernatural powers whose influences are thus brought to bear upon every-day life, and who appear to take such an interest in the affairs of mankind? it seems that there are three great principles at work in the evolution and modification of the ideas upon this subject, which must now be shortly stated. . (i.) the first of these is the apparent incapacity of the majority of mankind to accept a purely monotheistic creed. it is a demonstrable fact that the primitive religions now open to observation attribute specific events and results to distinct supernatural beings; and there can be little doubt that this is the initial step in every creed. it is a bold and somewhat perilous revolution to attempt to overturn this doctrine and to set up monotheism in its place, and, when successfully accomplished, is rarely permanent. the more educated portions of the community maintain allegiance to the new teaching, perhaps; but among the lower classes it soon becomes degraded to, or amalgamated with, some form of polytheism more or less pronounced, and either secret or declared. even the jews, the nation the most conspicuous for its supposed uncompromising adherence to a monotheistic creed, cannot claim absolute freedom from taint in this respect; for in the country places, far from the centre of worship, the people were constantly following after strange gods; and even some of their most notable worthies were liable to the same accusation. . it is not necessary, however, that the individuality and specialization of function of the supreme beings recognized by any religious system should be so conspicuous as they are in this case, or in the greek or roman pantheon, to mark it as in its essence polytheistic or of polytheistic tendency. it is quite enough that the immortals are deemed to be capable of hearing and answering the prayers of their adorers, and of interfering actively in passing events, either for good or for evil. this, at the root of it, constitutes the crucial difference between polytheism and monotheism; and in this sense the roman catholic form of christianity, representing the oldest undisturbed evolution of a strictly monotheistic doctrine, is undeniably polytheistic. apart from the virgin mary, there is a whole hierarchy of inferior deities, saints, and angels, subordinate to the one supreme being. this may possibly be denied by the authorized expounders of the doctrine of the church of rome; but it is nevertheless certain that it is the view taken by the uneducated classes, with whom the saints are much more present and definite deities than even the almighty himself. it is worth noting, that during the dancing mania of , not god, or christ, or the virgin mary, but st. vitus, was prayed to by the populace to stop the epidemic that was afterwards known by his name.[ ] there was a temple to st. michael on mount st. angelo, and augustine thought it necessary to declare that angel-worshippers were heretics.[ ] even protestantism, though a much younger growth than catholicism, shows a slight tendency towards polytheism. the saints are, of course, quite out of the question, and angels are as far as possible relegated from the citadel of asserted belief into the vaguer regions of poetical sentimentality; but--although again unadmitted by the orthodox of the sect--the popular conception of christ is, and, until the masses are more educated in theological niceties than they are at present, necessarily must be, as of a supreme being totally distinct from god the father. this applies in a less degree to the third person in the trinity; less, because his individuality is less clear. george eliot has, with her usual penetration, noted this fact in "silas marner," where, in mrs. winthrop's simple theological system, the trinity is always referred to as "them." [footnote : hecker, epidemics of the middle ages, p. .] [footnote : bullinger, p. . parker society.] . the posthumous history of francis of assisi affords a striking illustration of this strange tendency towards polytheism. this extraordinary man received no little reverence and adulation during his lifetime; but it was not until after his death that the process of deification commenced. it was then discovered that the stigmata were not the only points of resemblance between the departed saint and the divine master he professed to follow; that his birth had been foretold by the prophets; that, like christ, he underwent transfiguration; and that he had worked miracles during his life. the climax of the apotheosis was reached in , when a monk, preaching at paris, seriously maintained that st. francis was in very truth a second christ, the second son of god; and that after his death he descended into purgatory, and liberated all the spirits confined there who had the good fortune to be arrayed in the franciscan garb.[ ] [footnote : maury, histoire de la magie, p. .] . (ii.) the second principle is that of the manichaeists: the division of spirits into hostile camps, good and evil. this is a much more common belief than the orthodox are willing to allow. there is hardly any religious system that does not recognize a first source of evil, as well as a first source of good. but the spirit of evil occupies a position of varying importance: in some systems he maintains himself as co-equal of the spirit of good; in others he sinks to a lower stage, remaining very powerful to do harm, but nevertheless under the control, in matters of the highest importance, of the more beneficent being. in each of these cases, the first principle is found operating, ever augmenting the ranks; monodiabolism being as impossible as monotheism; and hence the importance of fully establishing that proposition. . (iii.) the last and most important of these principles is the tendency of all theological systems to absorb into themselves the deities extraneous to themselves, not as gods, but as inferior, or even evil, spirits. the actual existence of the foreign deity is not for a moment disputed, the presumption in favour of innumerable spiritual agencies being far too strong to allow the possibility of such a doubt; but just as the alien is looked upon as an inferior being, created chiefly for the use and benefit of the chosen people--and what nation is not, if its opinion of itself may be relied upon, a chosen people?--so the god the alien worships is a spirit of inferior power and capacity, and can be recognized solely as occupying a position subordinate to that of the gods of the land. this principle has such an important influence in the elaboration of the belief in demons, that it is worth while to illustrate the generality of its application. . in the greek system of theology we find in the first place a number of deities of varying importance and power, whose special functions are defined with some distinctness; and then, below these, an innumerable band of spirits, the souls of the departed--probably the relics of an earlier pure ancestor-worship--who still interest themselves in the inhabitants of this world. these [greek: daimones] were certainly accredited with supernatural power, and were not of necessity either good or evil in their influence or action. it was to this second class that foreign deities were assimilated. they found it impossible, however, to retain even this humble position. the ceremonies of their worship, and the language in which those ceremonies were performed, were strange to the inhabitants of the land in which the acclimatization was attempted; and the incomprehensible is first suspected, then loathed. it is not surprising, then, that the new-comers soon fell into the ranks of purely evil spirits, and that those who persisted in exercising their rites were stigmatized as devil-worshippers, or magicians. but in process of time this polytheistic system became pre-eminently unsatisfactory to the thoughtful men whom greece produced in such numbers. the tendency towards monotheism which is usually associated with the name of plato is hinted at in the writings of other philosophers who were his predecessors. the effect of this revolution was to recognize one supreme being, the first cause, and to subordinate to him all the other deities of the ancient and popular theology--to co-ordinate them, in fact, with the older class of daemons; the first step in the descent to the lowest category of all. . the history of the neo-platonic belief is one of elaboration upon these ideas. the conception of the supreme being was complicated in a manner closely resembling the idea of the christian trinity, and all the subordinate daemons were classified into good and evil geniuses. thus, a theoretically monotheistic system was established, with a tremendous hierarchy of inferior spirits, who frequently bore the names of the ancient gods and goddesses of egypt, greece, and rome, strikingly resembling that of roman catholicism. the subordinate daemons were not at first recognized as entitled to any religious rites; but in the course of time, by the inevitable operation of the first principle just enunciated, a form of theurgy sprang up with the object of attracting the kindly help and patronage of the good spirits, and was tolerated; and attempts were made to hold intercourse with the evil spirits, which were, as far as possible suppressed and discountenanced. . the history of the operation of this principle upon the jewish religion is very similar, and extremely interesting. although they do not seem to have ever had any system of ancestor-worship, as the greeks had, yet the jews appear originally to have recognized the deities of their neighbours as existing spirits, but inferior in power to the god of israel. "all the gods of the nations are idols" are words that entirely fail to convey the idea of the psalmist; for the word translated "idols" is _elohim_, the very term usually employed to designate jehovah; and the true sense of the passage therefore is: "all the gods of the nations are gods, but jehovah made the heavens."[ ] in another place we read that "the lord is a great god, and a great king above all gods."[ ] as, however, the jews gradually became acquainted with the barbarous rites with which their neighbours did honour to their gods, the foreigners seem to have fallen more and more in estimation, until they came to be classed as evil spirits. to this process such names as beelzebub, moloch, ashtaroth, and belial bear witness; beelzebub, "the prince of the devils" of later time, being one of the gods of the hostile philistines. [footnote : psalm xcvi. (xcv. sept.).] [footnote : psalm xcv. (xciv. sept.). maury, p. .] . the introduction of christianity made no difference in this respect. paul says to the believers at corinth, "that the things which the gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils ([greek: daimonia]), and not to god; and i would not that ye should have fellowship with devils;"[ ] and the septuagint renders the word _elohim_ in the ninety-fifth psalm by this [greek: daimonia], which as the christians had already a distinct term for good spirits, came to be applied to evil ones only. [footnote : i cor. x. .] under the influence therefore, of the new religion, the gods of greece and rome, who in the days of their supremacy had degraded so many foreign deities to the position of daemons, were in their turn deposed from their high estate, and became the nucleus around which the christian belief in demonology formed itself. the gods who under the old theologies reigned paramount in the lower regions became pre-eminently diabolic in character in the new system, and it was hecate who to the last retained her position of active patroness and encourager of witchcraft; a practice which became almost indissolubly connected with her name. numerous instances of the completeness with which this process of diabolization was effected, and the firmness with which it retained its hold upon the popular belief, even to late times, might be given; but the following must suffice. in one of the miracle plays, "the conversion of saul," a council of devils is held, at which mercury appears as the messenger of belial.[ ] [footnote : digby mysteries, new shakspere society, , p. .] . but this absolute rejection of every pagan belief and ceremony was characteristic of the christian church in its infancy only. so long as the band of believers was a small and persecuted one, no temptation to violate the rule could exist. but as the church grew, and acquired influence and position, it discovered that good policy demanded that the sternness and inflexibility of its youthful theories should undergo some modification. it found that it was not the most successful method of enticing stragglers into its fold to stigmatize the gods they ignorantly worshipped as devils, and to persecute them as magicians. the more impetuous and enthusiastic supporters did persecute, and persecute most relentlessly, the adherents of the dying faith; but persecution, whether of good or evil, always fails as a means of suppressing a hated doctrine, unless it can be carried to the extent of extermination of its supporters; and the more far-seeing leaders of the catholic church soon recognized that a slight surrender of principle was a far surer road to success than stubborn, uncompromising opposition. . it was in this spirit that the catholics dealt with the oracles of heathendom. mr. lecky is hardly correct when he says that nothing analogous to the ancient oracles was incorporated with christianity.[ ] there is the notable case of the god sosthenion, whom constantine identified with the archangel michael, and whose oracular functions were continued in a precisely similar manner by the latter.[ ] oracles that were not thus absorbed and supported were recognized as existent, but under diabolic control, and to be tolerated, if not patronized, by the representatives of the dominant religion. the oracle at delphi gave forth prophetic utterances for centuries after the commencement of the christian era; and was the less dangerous, as its operations could be stopped at any moment by holding a saintly relic to the god or devil apollo's nose. there is a fable that st. gregory, in the course of his travels, passed near the oracle, and his extraordinary sanctity was such as to prevent all subsequent utterances. this so disturbed the presiding genius of the place, that he appealed to the saint to undo the baneful effects his presence had produced; and gregory benevolently wrote a letter to the devil, which was in fact a license to continue the business of prophesying unmolested.[ ] this nonsensical fiction shows clearly enough that the oracles were not generally looked upon as extinguished by christianity. as the result of a similar policy we find the names and functions of the pagan gods and the earlier christian saints confused in the most extraordinary manner; the saints assuming the duties of the moribund deities where those duties were of a harmless or necessary character.[ ] [footnote : rise and influence of rationalism, i. p. .] [footnote : maury, p. , et seq.] [footnote : scot, book vii. ch. i.] [footnote : middleton's letter from rome.] . the church carried out exactly the same principles in her missionary efforts amongst the heathen hordes of northern europe. "do you renounce the devils, and all their words and works; thonar, wodin, and saxenote?" was part of the form of recantation administered to the scandinavian converts;[ ] and at the present day "odin take you" is the norse equivalent of "the devil take you." on the other hand, an attempt was made to identify balda "the beautiful" with christ--a confusion of character that may go far towards accounting for a custom joyously observed by our forefathers at christmastide but which the false modesty of modern society has nearly succeeded in banishing from amongst us, for balda was slain by loké with a branch of mistletoe, and christ was betrayed by judas with a kiss. [footnote : milman, history of latin christianity, iii. ; ix. .] . upon the conversion of the inhabitants of great britain to christianity, the native deities underwent the same inevitable fate, and sank into the rank of evil spirits. perhaps the juster opinion is that they became the progenitors of our fairy mythology rather than the subsequent devil-lore, although the similarity between these two classes of spirits is sufficient to warrant us in classing them as species of the same genus; their characters and functions being perfectly interchangeable, and even at times merging and becoming indistinguishable. a certain lurking affection in the new converts for the religion they had deserted, perhaps under compulsion, may have led them to look upon their ancient objects of veneration as less detestable in nature, and dangerous in act, than the devils imported as an integral portion of their adopted faith; and so originated this class of spirits less evil than the other. sir walter scott may be correct in his assertion that many of these fairy-myths owe their origin to the existence of a diminutive autochthonic race that was conquered by the invading celts, and the remnants of which lurked about the mountains and forests, and excited in their victors a superstitious reverence on account of their great skill in metallurgy; but this will not explain the retention of many of the old god-names; as that of the dusii, the celtic nocturnal spirits, in our word "deuce," and that of the nikr or water-spirits in "nixie" and old "nick."[ ] these words undoubtedly indicate the accomplishment of the "facilis descensus averno" by the native deities. elves, brownies, gnomes, and trolds were all at one time scotch or irish gods. the trolds obtained a character similar to that of the more modern succubus, and have left their impression upon elizabethan english in the word "trull." [footnote : maury, p. .] . the preceding very superficial outline of the growth of the belief in evil spirits is enough for the purpose of this essay, as it shows that the basis of english devil-lore was the annihilated mythologies of the ancient heathen religions--italic and teutonic, as well as those brought into direct conflict with the jewish system; and also that the more important of the teutonic deities are not to be traced in the subsequent hierarchy of fiends, on account probably of their temporary or permanent absorption into the proselytizing system, or the refusal of the new converts to believe them to be so black as their teachers painted them. the gradual growth of the superstructure it would be well-nigh impossible and quite unprofitable to trace. it is due chiefly to the credulous ignorance and distorted imagination, monkish and otherwise, of several centuries. carlyle's graphic picture of abbot sampson's vision of the devil in "past and present" will perhaps do more to explain how the belief grew and flourished than pages of explanatory statements. it is worthy of remark, however, that to the last, communication with evil spirits was kept up by means of formulae and rites that are undeniably the remnants of a form of religious worship. incomprehensible in their jargon as these formulae mostly are, and strongly tinctured as they have become with burlesqued christian symbolism and expression--for those who used them could only supply the fast-dying memory of the elder forms from the existing system--they still, in all their grotesqueness, remain the battered relics of a dead faith. . such being the natural history of the conflict of religions, it will not be a matter of surprise that the leaders of our english reformation should, in their turn, have attributed the miracles of the roman catholic saints to the same infernal source as the early christians supposed to have been the origin of the prodigies and oracles of paganism. the impulse given by the secession from the church of rome to the study of the bible by all classes added impetus to this tendency. in holy writ the reformers found full authority for believing in the existence of evil spirits, possession by devils, witchcraft, and divine and diabolic interference by way of miracle generally; and they consequently acknowledged the possibility of the repetition of such phenomena in the times in which they lived--a position more tenable, perhaps, than that of modern orthodoxy, that accepts without murmur all the supernatural events recorded in the bible, and utterly rejects all subsequent relations of a similar nature, however well authenticated. the reformers believed unswervingly in the truth of the biblical accounts of miracles, and that what god had once permitted to take place might and would be repeated in case of serious necessity. but they found it utterly impossible to accept the puerile and meaningless miracles perpetrated under the auspices of the roman catholic church as evidence of divine interference; and they had not travelled far enough upon the road towards rationalism to be able to reject them, one and all, as in their very nature impossible. the consequence of this was one of those compromises which we so often meet with in the history of the changes of opinion effected by the reformation. only those particular miracles that were indisputably demonstrated to be impostures--and there were plenty of them, such as the rood of boxley[ ]--were treated as such by them. the unexposed remainder were treated as genuine supernatural phenomena, but caused by diabolical, not divine, agency. the reforming divine calfhill, supporting this view of the catholic miracles in his answer to martiall's "treatise of the cross," points out that the majority of supernatural events that have taken place in this world have been, most undoubtedly, the work of the devil; and puts his opponents into a rather embarrassing dilemma by citing the miracles of paganism, which both catholic and protestant concurred in attributing to the evil one. he then clinches his argument by asserting that "it is the devil's cunning that persuades those that will walk in a popish blindness" that they are worshipping god when they are in reality serving him. "therefore," he continues, consciously following an argument of st. cyprianus against the pagan miracles, "these wicked spirits do lurk in shrines, in roods, in crosses, in images: and first of all pervert the priests, which are easiest to be caught with bait of a little gain. then work they miracles. they appear to men in divers shapes; disquiet them when they are awake; trouble them in their sleeps; distort their members; take away their health; afflict them with diseases; only to bring them to some idolatry. thus, when they have obtained their purpose that a lewd affiance is reposed where it should not, they enter (as it were) into a new league, and trouble them no more. what do the simple people then? verily suppose that the image, the cross, the thing that they have kneeled and offered unto (the very devil indeed) hath restored them health, whereas he did nothing but leave off to molest them. this is the help and cure that the devils give when they leave off their wrong and injury."[ ] [footnote : froude, history of england, cabinet edition, iii. .] [footnote : calfhill, pp. - . parker society.] . here we have a distinct charge of devil-worship--the old doctrine cropping up again after centuries of repose: "all the gods of our opponents are devils." nor were the catholics a whit behind the protestants in this matter. the priests zealously taught that the protestants were devil-worshippers and magicians;[ ] and the common people so implicitly believed in the truth of the statement, that we find one poor prisoner, taken by the dutch at the siege of alkmaar in , making a desperate attempt to save his life by promising to worship his captors' devil precisely as they did[ ]--a suggestion that failed to pacify those to whom it was addressed. [footnote : hutchinson's essay, p. . harsnet, declaration, p. .] [footnote : motley, dutch republic, ii. .] . having thus stated, so far as necessary, the chief laws that are constantly working the extension of the domain of the supernatural as far as demonology is concerned, without a remembrance of which the subject itself would remain somewhat difficult to comprehend fully, i shall now attempt to indicate one or two conditions of thought and circumstance that may have tended to increase and vivify the belief during the period in which the elizabethan literature flourished. . it was an era of change. the nation was emerging from the dim twilight of mediaevalism into the full day of political and religious freedom. but the morning mists, which the rising sun had not yet dispelled, rendered the more distant and complex objects distorted and portentous. the very fact that doubt, or rather, perhaps, independence of thought, was at last, within certain limits, treated as non-criminal in theology, gave an impetus to investigation and speculation in all branches of politics and science; and with this change came, in the main, improvement. but the great defect of the time was that this newly liberated spirit of free inquiry was not kept in check by any sufficient previous discipline in logical methods of reasoning. hence the possibility of the wild theories that then existed, followed out into action or not, according as circumstances favoured or discouraged: arthur hacket, with casting out of devils, and other madnesses, vehemently declaring himself the messiah and king of europe in the year of grace , and getting himself believed by some, so long as he remained unhanged; or, more pathetic still, many weary lives wasted day by day in fruitless silent search after the impossible philosopher's stone, or elixir of life. as in law, so in science, there were no sufficient rules of evidence clearly and unmistakably laid down for the guidance of the investigator; and consequently it was only necessary to broach a novel theory in order to have it accepted, without any previous serious testing. men do not seem to have been able to distinguish between an hypothesis and a proved conclusion; or, rather, the rule of presumptions was reversed, and men accepted the hypothesis as conclusive until it was disproved. it was a perfectly rational and sufficient explanation in those days to refer some extraordinary event to some given supernatural cause, even though there might be no ostensible link between the two: now, such a suggestion would be treated by the vast majority with derision or contempt. on the other hand, the most trivial occurrences, such as sneezing, the appearance of birds of ill omen, the crowing of a cock, and events of like unimportance happening at a particular moment, might, by some unseen concatenation of causes and effects, exercise an incomprehensible influence upon men, and consequently had important bearings upon their conduct. it is solemnly recorded in the commons' journals that during the discussion of the statute against witchcraft passed in the reign of james i., a young jackdaw flew into the house; which accident was generally regarded as _malum omen_ to the bill.[ ] extraordinary bravery on the part of an adversary was sometimes accounted for by asserting that he was the devil in the form of a man; as the volscian soldier does with regard to coriolanus. this is no mere dramatist's fancy, but a fixed belief of the times. sir william russell fought so desperately at zutphen, that he got mistaken for the evil one;[ ] and drake also gave the spaniards good reason for believing that he was a devil, and no man.[ ] [footnote : see also d'ewes, p. .] [footnote : froude, xii. .] [footnote : ibid. .] . this intense credulousness, childish almost in itself, but yet at the same time combined with the strong man's intellect, permeated all classes of society. perhaps a couple of instances, drawn from strangely diverse sources, will bring this more vividly before the mind than any amount of attempted theorizing. the first is one of the tricks of the jugglers of the period. "_to make one danse naked._ "make a poore boie confederate with you, so as after charms, etc., spoken by you, he unclothe himself and stand naked, seeming (whilest he undresseth himselfe) to shake, stamp, and crie, still hastening to be unclothed, till he be starke naked; or if you can procure none to go so far, let him onlie beginne to stampe and shake, etc., and unclothe him, and then you may (for reverence of the companie) seeme to release him."[ ] [footnote : scott, p. .] the second illustration must have demanded, if possible, more credulity on the part of the audience than this harmless entertainment. cranmer tells us that in the time of queen mary a monk preached a sermon at st. paul's, the object of which was to prove the truth of the doctrine of transubstantiation; and, after the manner of his kind, told the following little anecdote in support of it:--"a maid of northgate parish in canterbury, in pretence to wipe her mouth, kept the host in her handkerchief; and, when she came home, she put the same into a pot, close covered, and she spitted in another pot, and after a few days, she looking in the one pot, found a little young pretty babe, about a shaftmond long; and the other pot was full of gore blood."[ ] [footnote : cranmer, a confutation of unwritten verities, p. . parker society.] . that the audiences before which these absurdities were seriously brought, for amusement or instruction, could be excited in either case to any other feeling than good-natured contempt for a would-be impostor, seems to us now-a-days to be impossible. it was not so in the times when these things transpired: the actors of them were not knaves, nor were their audiences fools, to any unusual extent. if any one is inclined to form a low opinion of the elizabethans intellectually, on account of the divergence of their capacities of belief in this respect from his own, he does them a great injustice. let him take at once charles lamb's warning, and try to understand, rather than to judge them. we, who have had the benefit of three hundred more years of experience and liberty of thought than they, should have to hide our faces for very shame had we not arrived at juster and truer conclusions upon those difficult topics that so bewildered our ancestors. but can we, with all our boasted advantages of wealth, power, and knowledge, truly say that all our aims are as high, all our desires as pure, our words as true, and our deeds as noble, as those whose opinions we feel this tendency to contemn? if not, or if indeed they have anything whatsoever to teach us in these respects, let us remember that we shall never learn the lesson wholly, perhaps not learn it at all, unless, casting aside this first impulse to despise, we try to enter fully into and understand these strange dead beliefs of the past. * * * * * . it is in this spirit that i now enter upon the second division of the subject in hand, in which i shall try to indicate the chief features of the belief in demonology as it existed during the elizabethan period. these will be taken up in three main heads: the classification, physical appearance, and powers of the evil spirits. . (i.) it is difficult to discover any classification of devils as well authenticated and as universally received as that of the angels introduced by dionysius the areopagite, which was subsequently imported into the creed of the western church, and popularized in elizabethan times by dekker's "hierarchie." the subject was one which, from its nature, could not be settled _ex cathedrâ_, and consequently the subject had to grow up as best it might, each writer adopting the arrangement that appeared to him most suitable. there was one rough but popular classification into greater and lesser devils. the former branch was subdivided into classes of various grades of power, the members of which passed under the titles of kings, dukes, marquises, lords, captains, and other dignities. each of these was supposed to have a certain number of legions of the latter class under his command. these were the evil spirits who appeared most frequently on the earth as the emissaries of the greater fiends, to carry out their evil designs. the more important class kept for the most part in a mystical seclusion, and only appeared upon earth in cases of the greatest emergency, or when compelled to do so by conjuration. to the class of lesser devils belonged the bad angel which, together with a good one, was supposed to be assigned to every person at birth, to follow him through life--the one to tempt, the other to guard from temptation;[ ] so that a struggle similar to that recorded between michael and satan for the body of moses was raging for the soul of every existing human being. this was not a mere theory, but a vital active belief, as the beautiful well-known lines at the commencement of the eighth canto of the second book of "the faerie queene," and the use made of these opposing spirits in marlowe's "dr. faustus," and in "the virgin martyr," by massinger and dekker, conclusively show. [footnote : scot, p. .] . another classification, which seems to retain a reminiscence of the origin of devils from pagan deities, is effected by reference to the localities supposed to be inhabited by the different classes of evil spirits. according to this arrangement we get six classes:-- ( .) devils of the fire, who wander in the region near the moon. ( .) devils of the air, who hover round the earth. ( .) devils of the earth; to whom the fairies are allied. ( .) devils of the water. ( .) submundane devils.[ ] ( .) lucifugi. these devils' power and desire to injure mankind appear to have increased with the proximity of their location to the earth's centre; but this classification had nothing like the hold upon the popular mind that the former grouping had, and may consequently be dismissed with this mention. [footnote : cf. i hen. vi. v. iii. ; hen. vi. i. ii. ; coriolanus, iv. v. .] . the greater devils, or the most important of them, had distinguishing names--strange, uncouth names; some of them telling of a heathenish origin; others inexplicable and almost unpronounceable--as ashtaroth, bael, belial, zephar, cerberus, phoenix, balam (why he?), and haagenti, leraie, marchosias, gusoin, glasya labolas. scot enumerates seventy-nine, the above amongst them, and he does not by any means exhaust the number. as each arch-devil had twenty, thirty, or forty legions of inferior spirits under his command, and a legion was composed of six hundred and sixty-six devils, it is not surprising that the latter did not obtain distinguishing names until they made their appearance upon earth, when they frequently obtained one from the form they loved to assume; for example, the familiars of the witches in "macbeth"--paddock (toad), graymalkin (cat), and harpier (harpy, possibly). is it surprising that, with resources of this nature at his command, such an adept in the art of necromancy as owen glendower should hold harry percy, much to his disgust, at the least nine hours "in reckoning up the several devils' names that were his lackeys"? of the twenty devils mentioned by shakspere, four only belong to the class of greater devils. hecate, the principal patroness of witchcraft, is referred to frequently, and appears once upon the scene.[ ] the two others are amaimon and barbazon, both of whom are mentioned twice. amaimon was a very important personage, being no other than one of the four kings. ziminar was king of the north, and is referred to in "henry vi. part i.;"[ ] gorson of the south; goap of the west; and amaimon of the east. he is mentioned in "henry iv. part i.,"[ ] and "merry wives."[ ] barbazon also occurs in the same passage in the latter play, and again in "henry v."[ ]--a fact that does to a slight extent help to bear out the otherwise ascertained chronological sequence of these plays. the remainder of the devils belong to the second class. nine of these occur in "king lear," and will be referred to again when the subject of possession is touched upon.[ ] [footnote : it is perhaps worthy of remark that in every case except the allusion in the probably spurious henry vi., "i speak not to that railing hecate," (i hen. vi. iii. ii. ), the name is "hecat," a di-syllable.] [footnote : v. iii. .] [footnote : ii. iv. .] [footnote : ii. ii. .] [footnote : ii. i. . scot, p. .] [footnote : § .] . (ii.) it would appear that each of the greater devils, on the rare occasion upon which he made his appearance upon earth, assumed a form peculiar to himself; the lesser devils, on the other hand, had an ordinary type, common to the whole species, with a capacity for almost infinite variation and transmutation which they used, as will be seen, to the extreme perplexity and annoyance of mortals. as an illustration of the form in which a greater devil might appear, this is what scot says of the questionable balam, above mentioned: "balam cometh with three heads, the first of a bull, the second of a man, and the third of a ram. he hath a serpent's taile, and flaming eies; riding upon a furious beare, and carrieng a hawke on his fist."[ ] but it was the lesser devils, not the greater, that came into close contact with humanity, who therefore demand careful consideration. [footnote : p. .] . all the lesser devils seem to have possessed a normal form, which was as hideous and distorted as fancy could render it. to the conception of an angel imagination has given the only beautiful appendage the human body does not possess--wings; to that of a devil it has added all those organs of the brute creation that are most hideous or most harmful. advancing civilization has almost exterminated the belief in a being with horns, cloven hoofs, goggle eyes, and scaly tail, that was held up to many yet living as the avenger of childish disobedience in their earlier days, together perhaps with some strength of conviction of the moral hideousness of the evil he was intended, in a rough way, to typify; but this hazily retained impression of the author of evil was the universal and entirely credited conception of the ordinary appearance of those bad spirits who were so real to our ancestors of elizabethan days. "some are so carnallie minded," says scot, "that a spirit is no sooner spoken of, but they thinke of a blacke man with cloven feet, a paire of hornes, a taile, and eies as big as a bason."[ ] scot, however, was one of a very small minority in his opinion as to the carnal-mindedness of such a belief. he in his day, like those in every age and country who dare to hold convictions opposed to the creed of the majority, was a dangerous sceptic; his book was publicly burnt by the common hangman;[ ] and not long afterwards a royal author wrote a treatise "against the damnable doctrines of two principally in our age; whereof the one, called scot, an englishman, is not ashamed in public print to deny that there can be such a thing as witchcraft, and so mainteines the old error of the sadducees in denying of spirits."[ ] the abandoned impudence of the man!--and the logic of his royal opponent! [footnote : p. . see also hutchinson, essay on witchcraft, p. ; and harsnet, p. .] [footnote : bayle, ix. .] [footnote : james i., daemonologie. edinburgh, .] . spenser has clothed with horror this conception of the appearance of a fiend, just as he has enshrined in beauty the belief in the guardian angel. it is worthy of remark that he describes the devil as dwelling beneath the altar of an idol in a heathen temple. prince arthur strikes the image thrice with his sword-- "and the third time, out of an hidden shade, there forth issewed from under th' altar's smoake a dreadfull feend with fowle deformèd looke, that stretched itselfe as it had long lyen still; and her long taile and fethers strongly shooke, that all the temple did with terrour fill; yet him nought terrifide that fearèd nothing ill. "an huge great beast it was, when it in length was stretchèd forth, that nigh filled all the place, and seemed to be of infinite great strength; horrible, hideous, and of hellish race, borne of the brooding of echidna base, or other like infernall furies kinde, for of a maide she had the outward face to hide the horrour which did lurke behinde the better to beguile whom she so fond did finde. "thereto the body of a dog she had, full of fell ravin and fierce greedinesse; a lion's clawes, with power and rigour clad to rende and teare whatso she can oppresse; a dragon's taile, whose sting without redresse full deadly wounds whereso it is empight, and eagle's wings for scope and speedinesse that nothing may escape her reaching might, whereto she ever list to make her hardy flight." . the dramatists of the period make frequent references to this belief, but nearly always by way of ridicule. it is hardly to be expected that they would share in the grosser opinions held by the common people in those times--common, whether king or clown. in "the virgin martyr," harpax is made to say-- "i'll tell you what now of the devil; he's no such horrid creature, cloven-footed, black, saucer-eyed, his nostrils breathing fire, as these lying christians make him."[ ] but his opinion was, perhaps, a prejudiced one. in ben jonson's "the devil is an ass," when fitzdottrell, doubting pug's statement as to his infernal character, says, "i looked on your feet afore; you cannot cozen me; your shoes are not cloven, sir, you are whole hoofed;" pug, with great presence of mind, replies, "sir, that's a popular error deceives many." so too othello, when he is questioning whether iago is a devil or not, says-- "i look down to his feet, but that's a fable."[ ] and when edgar is trying to persuade the blind gloucester that he has in reality cast himself over the cliff, he describes the being from whom he is supposed to have just parted, thus:-- "as i stood here below, methought his eyes were two full moons: he had a thousand noses; horns whelked and wavèd like the enridgèd sea: it was some fiend."[ ] it can hardly be but that the "thousand noses" are intended as a satirical hit at the enormity of the popular belief. [footnote : act i. sc. .] [footnote : act v. sc. ii. l. .] [footnote : lear, iv. vi. .] . in addition to this normal type, common to all these devils, each one seems to have had, like the greater devils, a favourite form in which he made his appearance when conjured; generally that of some animal, real or imagined. it was telling of "the moldwarp and the ant, of the dreamer merlin, and his prophecies; and of a dragon and a finless fish, a clipwinged griffin, and a moulten raven, a couching lion, and a ramping cat,"[ ] that annoyed harry hotspur so terribly; and neither in this allusion, which was suggested by a passage in holinshed,[ ] nor in "macbeth," where he makes the three witches conjure up their familiars in the shapes of an armed head, a bloody child, and a child crowned, has shakspere gone beyond the fantastic conceptions of the time. [footnote : i hen. iv. iii. i. .] [footnote : p. , c. .] . (iii.) but the third proposed section, which deals with the powers and functions exercised by the evil spirits, is by far the most interesting and important; and the first branch of the series is one that suggests itself as a natural sequence upon what has just been said as to the ordinary shapes in which devils appeared, namely, the capacity to assume at will any form they chose. . in the early and middle ages it was universally believed that a devil could, of his own inherent power, call into existence any manner of body that it pleased his fancy to inhabit, or that would most conduce to the success of any contemplated evil. in consequence of this belief the devils became the rivals, indeed the successful rivals, of jupiter himself in the art of physical tergiversation. there was, indeed, a tradition that a devil could not create any animal form of less size than a barley-corn, and that it was in consequence of this incapacity that the magicians of egypt--those indubitable devil-worshippers--failed to produce lice, as moses did, although they had been so successful in the matter of the serpents and the frogs; "a verie gross absurditie," as scot judiciously remarks.[ ] this, however, would not be a serious limitation upon the practical usefulness of the power. [footnote : p. .] . the great reformation movement wrought a change in this respect. men began to accept argument and reason, though savouring of special pleading of the schools, in preference to tradition, though never so venerable and well authenticated; and the leaders of the revolution could not but recognize the absurdity of laying down as infallible dogma that god was the creator of all things, and then insisting with equal vehemence, by way of postulate, that the devil was the originator of some. the thing was gross and palpable in its absurdity, and had to be done away with as quickly as might be. but how? on the other hand, it was clear as daylight that the devil _did_ appear in various forms to tempt and annoy the people of god--was at that very time doing so in the most open and unabashed manner. how were reasonable men to account for this manifest conflict between rigorous logic and more rigorous fact? there was a prolonged and violent controversy upon the point--the reformers not seeing their way to agree amongst themselves--and tedious as violent. sermons were preached; books were written; and, when argument was exhausted, unpleasant epithets were bandied about, much as in the present day, in similar cases. the result was that two theories were evolved, both extremely interesting as illustrations of the hair-splitting, chop-logic tendency which, amidst all their straightforwardness, was so strongly characteristic of the elizabethans. the first suggestion was, that although the devil could not, of his own inherent power, create a body, he might get hold of a dead carcase and temporarily restore animation, and so serve his turn. this belief was held, amongst others, by the erudite king james,[ ] and is pleasantly satirized by sturdy old ben jonson in "the devil is an ass," where satan (the greater devil, who only appears in the first scene just to set the storm a-brewing) says to pug (puck, the lesser devil, who does all the mischief; or would have done it, had not man, in those latter times, got to be rather beyond the devils in evil than otherwise), not without a touch of regret at the waning of his power-- "you must get a body ready-made, pug, i can create you none;" and consequently pug is advised to assume the body of a handsome cutpurse that morning hung at tyburn. [footnote : daemonologie, p. .] but the theory, though ingenious, was insufficient. the devil would occasionally appear in the likeness of a living person; and how could that be accounted for? again, an evil spirit, with all his ingenuity, would find it hard to discover the dead body of a griffin, or a harpy, or of such eccentricity as was affected by the before-mentioned balam; and these and other similar forms were commonly favoured by the inhabitants of the nether world. . the second theory, therefore, became the more popular amongst the learned, because it left no one point unexplained. the divines held that although the power of the creator had in no wise been delegated to the devil, yet he was, in the course of providence, permitted to exercise a certain supernatural influence over the minds of men, whereby he could persuade them that they really saw a form that had no material objective existence.[ ] here was a position incontrovertible, not on account of the arguments by which it could be supported, but because it was impossible to reason against it; and it slowly, but surely, took hold upon the popular mind. indeed, the elimination of the diabolic factor leaves the modern sceptical belief that such apparitions are nothing more than the result of disease, physical or mental. [footnote : dialogicall discourses, by deacon and walker, th dialogue. bullinger, p. . parker society.] . but the semi-sceptical state of thought was in shakspere's time making its way only amongst the more educated portion of the nation. the masses still clung to the old and venerated, if not venerable, belief that devils could at any moment assume what form soever they might please--not troubling themselves further to inquire into the method of the operation. they could appear in the likeness of an ordinary human being, as harpax[ ] and mephistopheles[ ] do, creating thereby the most embarrassing complications in questions of identity; and if this belief is borne in mind, the charge of being a devil, so freely made, in the times of which we write, and before alluded to, against persons who performed extraordinary feats of valour, or behaved in a manner discreditable and deserving of general reprobation, loses much of its barbarous grotesqueness. there was no doubt as to coriolanus,[ ] as has been said; nor shylock.[ ] even "the outward sainted angelo is yet a devil;"[ ] and prince hal confesses that "there is a devil haunts him in the likeness of an old fat man ... an old white-bearded satan."[ ] [footnote : in the virgin martyr.] [footnote : in dr. faustus.] [footnote : coriolanus, i. x. .] [footnote : merchant of venice, iii. i. .] [footnote : measure for measure, iii. i. .] [footnote : i hen. iv., ii. iv. - .] . the devils had an inconvenient habit of appearing in the guise of an ecclesiastic[ ]--at least, so the churchmen were careful to insist, especially when busying themselves about acts of temptation that would least become the holy robe they had assumed. this was the ecclesiastical method of accounting for certain stories, not very creditable to the priesthood, that had too inconvenient a basis of evidence to be dismissed as fabricatious. but the honest lay public seem to have thought, with downright old chaucer, that there was more in the matter than the priests chose to admit. this feeling we, as usual, find reflected in the dramatic literature of our period. in "the troublesome raigne of king john," an old play upon the basis of which shakspere constructed his own "king john," we find this question dealt with in some detail. in the elder play, the bastard does "the shaking of bags of hoarding abbots," _coram populo_, and thereby discloses a phase of monastic life judiciously suppressed by shakspere. philip sets at liberty much more than "imprisoned angels"--according to one account, and that a monk's, imprisoned beings of quite another sort. "faire alice, the nonne," having been discovered in the chest where the abbot's wealth was supposed to be concealed, proposes to purchase pardon for the offence by disclosing the secret hoard of a sister nun. her offer being accepted, a friar is ordered to force the box in which the treasure is supposed to be secreted. on being questioned as to its contents, he answers-- "frier laurence, my lord, now holy water help us! some witch or some divell is sent to delude us: _haud credo laurentius_ that thou shouldst be pen'd thus in the presse of a nun; we are all undone, and brought to discredence, if thou be frier laurence."[ ] unfortunately it proves indubitably to be that good man; and he is ordered to execution, not, however, without some hope of redemption by money payment; for times are hard, and cash in hand not to be despised. [footnote : see the story about bishop sylvanus.--lecky, rationalism in europe, i. .] [footnote : hazlitt, shakspere library, part ii. vol. i. p. .] it is amusing to notice, too, that when assuming the clerical garb, the devil carefully considered the religious creed of the person to whom he intended to make himself known. the catholic accounts of him show him generally assuming the form of a protestant parson;[ ] whilst to those of the reformed creed he invariably appeared in the habit of a catholic priest. in the semblance of a friar the devil is reported (by a protestant) to have preached, upon a time, "a verie catholic sermon;"[ ] so good, indeed, that a priest who was a listener could find no fault with the doctrine--a stronger basis of fact than one would have imagined for shakspere's saying, "the devil can cite scripture for his purpose." [footnote : harsnet, p. .] [footnote : scot, p. .] . it is not surprising that of human forms, that of a negro or moor should be considered a favourite one with evil spirits.[ ] iago makes allusion to this when inciting brabantio to search for his daughter.[ ] the power of coming in the likeness of humanity generally is referred to somewhat cynically in "timon of athens,"[ ] thus-- "_varro's servant._ what is a whoremaster, fool? "_fool._ a fool in good clothes, and something like thee. 'tis a spirit: sometime 't appears like a lord; sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher with two stones more than 's artificial one: he is very often like a knight; and, generally, in all shapes that man goes up and down in, from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in." [footnote : scot, p. .] [footnote : othello, i. i. .] [footnote : ii. ii. .] "all shapes that man goes up and down in" seem indeed to have been at the devils' control. so entirely was this the case, that to constance even the fair blanche was none other than the devil tempting louis "in likeness of a new uptrimmed bride;"[ ] and perhaps not without a certain prophetic feeling of the fitness of things, as it may possibly seem to some of our more warlike politicians, evil spirits have been known to appear as russians.[ ] [footnote : king john, iii. i. .] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] . but all the "shapes that man goes up and down in" did not suffice. the forms of the whole of the animal kingdom seem to have been at the devils' disposal; and, not content with these, they seem to have sought further for unlikely shapes to assume.[ ] poor caliban complains that prospero's spirits "lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark,"[ ] just as ariel[ ] and puck[ ] (will-o'-th'-wisp) mislead their victims; and that "for every trifle are they set upon me: sometimes like apes, that mow and chatter at me, and after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount their pricks at my footfall. sometime am i all wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues, do hiss me into madness." and doubtless the scene which follows this soliloquy, in which caliban, trinculo, and stephano mistake one another in turn for evil spirits, fully flavoured with fun as it still remains, had far more point for the audiences at the globe--to whom a stray devil or two was quite in the natural order of things under such circumstances--than it can possibly possess for us. in this play, ariel, prospero's familiar, besides appearing in his natural shape, and dividing into flames, and behaving in such a manner as to cause young ferdinand to leap into the sea, crying, "hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" assumes the forms of a water-nymph,[ ] a harpy,[ ] and also the goddess ceres;[ ] while the strange shapes, masquers, and even the hounds that hunt and worry the would-be king and viceroys of the island, are ariel's "meaner fellows." [footnote : for instance, an eye without a head.--ibid.] [footnote : the tempest, ii. ii. .] [footnote : ibid. i. ii. .] [footnote : a midsummer night's dream, ii. i. ; iii. i. .] [footnote : i. ii. - .] [footnote : iii. iii. .] [footnote : iv. i. .] . puck's favourite forms seem to have been more outlandish than ariel's, as might have been expected of that malicious little spirit. he beguiles "the fat and bean-fed horse" by "neighing in likeness of a filly foal: and sometimes lurk i in a gossip's bowl, in very likeness of a roasted crab; and when she drinks, against her lips i bob, and on her withered dewlap pour the ale. the wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, sometime for three-foot stool[ ] mistaketh me; then slip i from her, and down topples she." and again: "sometime a horse i'll be, sometime a hound, a hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire; and neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn."[ ] with regard to this last passage, it is worthy of note that in the year , strange news came out of somersetshire, entitled "a dreadful discourse of the dispossessing of one margaret cowper, at ditchet, from a devil in the likeness of a headless bear."[ ] [footnote : a scotch witch, when leaving her bed to go to a sabbath, used to put a three-foot stool in the vacant place; which, after charms duly mumbled, assumed the appearance of a woman until her return.--pitcairn, iii. .] [footnote : iii. i. .] [footnote : hutchinson, p. .] . in heywood and brome's "witch of edmonton," the devil appears in the likeness of a black dog, and takes his part in the dialogue, as if his presence were a matter of quite ordinary occurrence, not in any way calling for special remark. however gross and absurd this may appear, it must be remembered that this play is, in its minutest details, merely a dramatization of the events duly proved in a court of law, to the satisfaction of twelve englishmen, in the year .[ ] the shape of a fly, too, was a favourite one with the evil spirits; so much so that the term "fly" became a common synonym for a familiar.[ ] the word "beelzebub" was supposed to mean "the king of flies." at the execution of urban grandier, the famous magician of london, in , a large fly was seen buzzing about the stake, and a priest promptly seizing the opportunity of improving the occasion for the benefit of the onlookers, declared that beelzebub had come in his own proper person to carry off grandier's soul to hell. in occurred the celebrated witch-trials which took place before sir matthew hale. the accused were charged with bewitching two children; and part of the evidence against them was that flies and bees were seen to carry into the victims' mouths the nails and pins which they afterwards vomited.[ ] there is an allusion to this belief in the fly-killing scene in "titus andronicus."[ ] [footnote : potts, discoveries. edit. cheetham society.] [footnote : cf. b. jonson's alchemist.] [footnote : a collection of rare and curious tracts relating to witchcraft, .] [footnote : iii. ii. , et seq.] . but it was not invariably a repulsive or ridiculous form that was assumed by these enemies of mankind. their ingenuity would have been but little worthy of commendation had they been content to appear as ordinary human beings, or animals, or even in fancy costume. the swiss divine bullinger, after a lengthy and elaborately learned argument as to the particular day in the week of creation upon which it was most probable that god called the angels into being, says, by way of peroration, "let us lead a holy and angel-like life in the sight of god's holy angels. let us watch, lest he that transfigureth and turneth himself into an angel of light under a good show and likeness deceive us."[ ] they even went so far, according to cranmer,[ ] as to appear in the likeness of christ, in their desire to mislead mankind; for-- "when devils will the blackest sins put on, they do suggest at first with heavenly shows."[ ] [footnote : bullinger, fourth decade, th sermon. parker society.] [footnote : cranmer, confutation, p. . parker society.] [footnote : othello, ii. iii. . cf. love's labour's lost, iv. iii. ; comedy of errors, iv. iii. .] . but one of the most ordinary forms supposed at this period to be assumed by devils was that of a dead friend of the object of the visitation. before the reformation, the belief that the spirits of the departed had power at will to revisit the scenes and companions of their earthly life was almost universal. the reforming divines distinctly denied the possibility of such a revisitation, and accounted for the undoubted phenomena, as usual, by attributing them to the devil.[ ] james i. says that the devil, when appearing to men, frequently assumed the form of a person newly dead, "to make them believe that it was some good spirit that appeared to them, either to forewarn them of the death of their friend, or else to discover unto them the will of the defunct, or what was the way of his slauchter.... for he dare not so illude anie that knoweth that neither can the spirit of the defunct returne to his friend, nor yet an angell use such formes."[ ] he further explains that such devils follow mortals to obtain two ends: "the one is the tinsell (loss) of their life by inducing them to such perrilous places at such times as he either follows or possesses them. the other thing that he preases to obtain is the tinsell of their soule."[ ] [footnote : see hooper's declaration of the ten commandments. parker society. hooper, .] [footnote : daemonologie, p. .] [footnote : cf. hamlet, i. iv. - ; and post, § .] . but the belief in the appearance of ghosts was too deeply rooted in the popular mind to be extirpated, or even greatly affected, by a dogmatic declaration. the masses went on believing as they always had believed, and as their fathers had believed before them, in spite of the reformers, and to their no little discontent. pilkington, bishop of durham, in a letter to archbishop parker, dated , complains that, "among other things that be amiss here in your great cares, ye shall understand that in blackburn there is a fantastical (and as some say, lunatic) young man, which says that he has spoken with one of his neighbours that died four year since, or more. divers times he says he has seen him, and talked with him, and took with him the curate, the schoolmaster, and other neighbours, who all affirm that they see him. _these things be so common here_ that none in authority will gainsay it, but rather believe and confirm it, that everybody believes it. if i had known how to examine with authority, i would have done it."[ ] here is a little glimpse at the practical troubles of a well-intentioned bishop of the sixteenth century that is surely worth preserving. [footnote : parker correspondence, . parker society.] . there were thus two opposite schools of belief in this matter of the supposed spirits of the departed:--the conservative, which held to the old doctrine of ghosts; and the reforming, which denied the possibility of ghosts, and held to the theory of devils. in the midst of this disagreement of doctors it was difficult for a plain man to come to a definite conclusion upon the question; and, in consequence, all who were not content with quiet dogmatism were in a state of utter uncertainty upon a point not entirely without importance in practical life as well as in theory. this was probably the position in which the majority of thoughtful men found themselves; and it is accurately reflected in three of shakspere's plays, which, for other and weightier reasons, are grouped together in the same chronological division--"julius caesar," "macbeth," and "hamlet." in the first-mentioned play, brutus, who afterwards confesses his belief that the apparition he saw at sardis was the ghost of caesar,[ ] when in the actual presence of the spirit, says-- "art thou some god, some angel, or some devil?"[ ] the same doubt flashes across the mind of macbeth on the second entrance of banquo's ghost--which is probably intended to be a devil appearing at the instigation of the witches--when he says, with evident allusion to a diabolic power before referred to-- "what man dare, i dare: approach thou like the rugged russian bear, the armed rhinoceros, or the hyrcan tiger, take any shape but that."[ ] [footnote : julius caesar, v. v. .] [footnote : ibid. iv. iii. .] [footnote : macbeth, iii. iv. .] . but it is in "hamlet" that the undecided state of opinion upon this subject is most clearly reflected; and hardly enough influence has been allowed to the doubts arising from this conflict of belief, as urgent or deterrent motives in the play, because this temporary condition of thought has been lost sight of. it is exceedingly interesting to note how frequently the characters who have to do with the apparition of the late king hamlet alternate between the theories that it is a ghost and that it is a devil which they have seen. the whole subject has such an important bearing upon any attempt to estimate the character of hamlet, that no excuse need be offered for once again traversing such well-trodden ground. horatio, it is true, is introduced to us in a state of determined scepticism; but this lasts for a few seconds only, vanishing upon the first entrance of the spectre, and never again appearing. his first inclination seems to be to the belief that he is the victim of a diabolical illusion; for he says-- "what art thou, that _usurp'st_ this time of night, together with that fair and warlike form in which the majesty of buried denmark did sometimes march?"[ ] and marcellus seems to be of the same opinion, for immediately before, he exclaims-- "thou art a scholar, speak to it, horatio;" having apparently the same idea as had coachman toby, in "the night-walker," when he exclaims-- "let's call the butler up, for he speaks latin, and that will daunt the devil."[ ] on the second appearance of the illusion, however, horatio leans to the opinion that it is really the ghost of the late king that he sees, probably in consequence of the conversation that has taken place since the former visitation; and he now appeals to the ghost for information that may enable him to procure rest for his wandering soul. again, during his interview with hamlet, when he discloses the secret of the spectre's appearance, though very guarded in his language, horatio clearly intimates his conviction that he has seen the spirit of the late king. [footnote : i. i. .] [footnote : ii. i.] the same variation of opinion is visible in hamlet himself; but, as might be expected, with much more frequent alternations. when first he hears horatio's story, he seems to incline to the belief that it must be the work of some diabolic agency: "if it assume my noble father's person, i'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, and bid me hold my peace;"[ ] although, characteristically, in almost the next line he exclaims-- "my father's spirit in arms! all is not well," etc. this, too, seems to be the dominant idea in his mind when he is first brought face to face with the apparition and exclaims-- "angels and ministers of grace defend us!-- be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damned, bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, be thine intents wicked or charitable, thou com'st in such a questionable shape, that i will speak to thee."[ ] for it cannot be supposed that hamlet imagined that a "goblin damned" could actually be the spirit of his dead father; and, therefore, the alternative in his mind must have been that he saw a devil assuming his father's likeness--a form which the evil one knew would most incite hamlet to intercourse. but even as he speaks, the other theory gradually obtains ascendency in his mind, until it becomes strong enough to induce him to follow the spirit. [footnote : i. ii. .] [footnote : i. iv. .] but whilst the devil-theory is gradually relaxing its hold upon hamlet's mind, it is fastening itself with ever-increasing force upon the minds of his companions; and horatio expresses their fears in words that are worth comparing with those just quoted from james's "daemonologie." hamlet responds to their entreaties not to follow the spectre thus-- "why, what should be the fear? i do not set my life at a pin's fee; and, for my soul, what can it do to that, being a thing immortal as itself?" and horatio answers-- "what if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, or to the dreadful summit of the cliff, that beetles o'er his base into the sea, and there assume some other horrible form, which might deprive your sovereignty of reason, and draw you into madness?" the idea that the devil assumed the form of a dead friend in order to procure the "tinsell" of both body and soul of his victim is here vividly before the minds of the speakers of these passages.[ ] [footnote : see ante, § .] the subsequent scene with the ghost convinces hamlet that he is not the victim of malign influences--as far as he is capable of conviction, for his very first words when alone restate the doubt: "o all you host of heaven! o earth! _what else?_ and shall i couple hell?"[ ] and the enthusiasm with which he is inspired in consequence of this interview is sufficient to support his certainty of conviction until the time for decisive action again arrives. it is not until the idea of the play-test occurs to him that his doubts are once more aroused; and then they return with redoubled force:-- "the spirit that i have seen may be the devil: and the devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps, out of my weakness and my melancholy, (as he is very potent with such spirits,) abuses me to damn me."[ ] and he again alludes to this in his speech to horatio, just before the entry of the king and his train to witness the performance of the players.[ ] [footnote : i. v. .] [footnote : ii. ii. .] [footnote : iii. ii. .] . this question was, in shakspere's time, quite a legitimate element of uncertainty in the complicated problem that presented itself for solution to hamlet's ever-analyzing mind; and this being so, an apparent inconsistency in detail which has usually been charged upon shakspere with regard to this play, can be satisfactorily explained. some critics are never weary of exclaiming that shakspere's genius was so vast and uncontrollable that it must not be tested, or expected to be found conformable to the rules of art that limit ordinary mortals; that there are many discrepancies and errors in his plays that are to be condoned upon that account; in fact, that he was a very careless and slovenly workman. a favourite instance of this is taken from "hamlet," where shakspere actually makes the chief character of the play talk of death as "the bourne from whence no traveller returns" not long after he has been engaged in a prolonged conversation with such a returned traveller. now, no artist, however distinguished or however transcendent his genius, is to be pardoned for insincere workmanship, and the greater the man, the less his excuse. errors arising from want of information (and shakspere commits these often) may be pardoned if the means for correcting them be unattainable; but errors arising from mere carelessness are not to be pardoned. further, in many of these cases of supposed contradiction there is an element of carelessness indeed; but it lies at the door of the critic, not of the author; and this appears to be true in the present instance. the dilemma, as it presented itself to the contemporary mind, must be carefully kept in view. either the spirits of the departed could revisit this world, or they could not. if they could not, then the apparitions mistaken for them must be devils assuming their forms. now, the tendency of hamlet's mind, immediately before the great soliloquy on suicide, is decidedly in favour of the latter alternative. the last words that he has uttered, which are also the last quoted here,[ ] are those in which he declares most forcibly that he believes the devil-theory possible, and consequently that the dead do not return to this world; and his utterances in his soliloquy are only an accentuate and outcome of this feeling of uncertainty. the very root of his desire for death is that he cannot discard with any feeling of certitude the protestant doctrine that no traveller does after death return from the invisible world, and that the so-called ghosts are a diabolic deception. [footnote : § , p. .] . another power possessed by the evil spirits, and one that excited much attention and created an immense amount of strife during elizabethan times, was that of entering into the bodies of human beings, or otherwise influencing them so as utterly to deprive them of all self-control, and render them mere automata under the command of the fiends. this was known as possession, or obsession. it was another of the mediaeval beliefs against which the reformers steadily set their faces; and all the resources of their casuistry were exhausted to expose its absurdity. but their position in this respect was an extremely delicate one. on one side of them zealous catholics were exorcising devils, who shrieked out their testimony to the eternal truth of the holy catholic church; whilst at the same time, on the other side, the zealous puritans of the extremer sort were casting out fiends, who bore equally fervent testimony to the superior efficacy and purity of the protestant faith. the tendency of the more moderate members of the party, therefore was towards a compromise similar to that arrived at upon the question how the devils came by the forms in which they appeared upon the earth. they could not admit that devils could actually enter into and possess the body of a man in those latter days, although during the earlier history of the church such things had been permitted by divine providence for some inscrutable but doubtless satisfactory reason:--that was catholicism. on the other hand, they could not for an instant tolerate or even sanction the doctrine that devils had no power whatever over humanity:--that was atheism. but it was quite possible that evil spirits, without actually entering into the body of a man, might so infest, worry, and torment him, as to produce all the symptoms indicative of possession. the doctrine of obsession replaced that of possession; and, once adopted, was supported by a string of those quaint, conceited arguments so peculiar to the time.[ ] [footnote : dialogicall discourses, by deacon and walker, rd dialogue.] . but, as in all other cases, the refinements of the theologians had little or no effect upon the world outside their controversies. to the ordinary mind, if a man's eyes goggled, body swelled, and mouth foamed, and it was admitted that these were the work of a devil, the question whether the evil-doer were actually housed within the sufferer, or only hovered in his immediate neighbourhood, seemed a question of such minor importance as to be hardly worth discussing--a conclusion that the lay mind is apt to come to upon other questions that appear portentous to the divines--and the theory of possession, having the advantage in time over that of obsession, was hard to dislodge. . one of the chief causes of the persistency with which the old belief was maintained was the utter ignorance of the medical men of the period on the subject of mental disease. the doctors of the time were mere children in knowledge of the science they professed; and to attribute a disease, the symptoms of which they could not comprehend, to a power outside their control by ordinary methods, was a safe method of screening a reputation which might otherwise have suffered. "canst thou not minister to a mind diseased?" cries macbeth to the doctor, in one of those moments of yearning after the better life he regrets, but cannot return to, which come over him now and again. no; the disease is beyond his practice; and, although this passage has in it a deeper meaning than the one attributed to it here, it well illustrates the position of the medical man in such cases. most doctors of the time were mere empirics; dabbled more or less in alchemy; and, in the treatment of mental disease, were little better than children. they had for co-practitioners all who, by their credit with the populace for superior wisdom, found themselves in a position to engage in a profitable employment. priests, preachers, schoolmasters--dr. pinches and sir topazes--became so commonly exorcists, that the church found it necessary to forbid the casting out of spirits without a special license for that purpose.[ ] but as the reformers only combated the doctrine of possession upon strictly theological grounds, and did not go on to suggest any substitute for the time-honoured practice of exorcism as a means for getting rid of the admittedly obnoxious result of diabolic interference, it is not altogether surprising that the method of treatment did not immediately change. [footnote : nd canon.] . upon this subject a book called "tryal of witchcraft," by john cotta, "doctor in physike," published in , is extremely instructive. the writer is evidently in advance of his time in his opinions upon the principal subject with which he professes to deal, and weighs the evidence for and against the reality of witchcraft with extreme precision and fairness. in the course of his argument he has to distinguish the symptoms that show a person to have been bewitched, from those that point to a demoniacal possession.[ ] "reason doth detect," says he, "the sicke to be afflicted by the immediate supernaturall power of the devil two wayes: the first way is by such things as are subject and manifest to the learned physicion only; the second is by such things as are subject and manifest to the vulgar view." the two signs by which the "learned physicion" recognized diabolic intervention were: first, the preternatural appearance of the disease from which the patient was suffering; and, secondly, the inefficacy of the remedies applied. in other words, if the leech encountered any disease the symptoms of which were unknown to him, or if, through some unforeseen circumstances, the drug he prescribed failed to operate in its accustomed manner, a case of demoniacal possession was considered to be conclusively proved, and the medical man was merged in the magician. [footnote : ch. .] . the second class of cases, in which the diabolic agency is palpable to the layman as well as the doctor, cotta illustrates thus: "in the time of their paroxysmes or fits, some diseased persons have been seene to vomit crooked iron, coales, brimstone, nailes, needles, pinnes, lumps of lead, waxe, hayre, strawe, and the like, in such quantities, figure, fashion, and proportion as could never possiblie pass down, or arise up thorow the natural narrownesse of the throate, or be contained in the unproportionable small capacitie, naturall susceptibilitie, and position of the stomake." possessed persons, he says, were also clairvoyant, telling what was being said and done at a far distance; and also spoke languages which at ordinary times they did not understand, as their successors, the modern spirit mediums, do. this gift of tongues was one of the prominent features of the possession of will sommers and the other persons exorcised by the protestant preacher john darrell, whose performances as an exorcist created quite a domestic sensation in england at the close of the sixteenth century.[ ] the whole affair was investigated by dr. harsnet, who had already acquired fame as an iconoclast in these matters, as will presently be seen; but it would have little more than an antiquarian interest now, were it not for the fact that ben jonson made it the subject of his satire in one of his most humorous plays, "the devil is an ass." in it he turns the last-mentioned peculiarity to good account; for when fitzdottrell, in the fifth act, feigns madness, and quotes aristophanes, and speaks in spanish and french, the judicious sir paul eithersides comes to the conclusion that "it is the devil by his several languages." [footnote : a true relation of the grievious handling of william sommers, etc. london: t. harper, (? ). the tryall of maister darrell, .] . but more interesting, and more important for the present purpose, are the cases of possession that were dealt with by father parsons and his colleagues in - , and of which dr. harsnet gave such a highly spiced and entertaining account in his "declaration of egregious popish impostures," first published in the year . it is from this work that shakspere took the names of the devils mentioned by edgar, and other references made by him in "king lear;" and an outline of the relation of the play to the book will furnish incidentally much matter illustrative of the subject of possession. but before entering upon this outline, a brief glance at the condition of affairs political and domestic, which partially caused and nourished these extraordinary eccentricities, is almost essential to a proper understanding of them. . the year was probably one of the most critical years that england has passed through since she was first a nation. standing alone amongst the european states, with even the netherlanders growing cold towards her on account of her ambiguous treatment of them, she had to fight out the battle of her independence against odds to all appearances irresistible. with sixtus plotting her overthrow at rome, philip at madrid, mendoza and the english traitors at paris, and mary of scotland at chartley, while a third of her people were malcontent, and james the sixth was friend or enemy as it best suited his convenience, the outlook was anything but reassuring for the brave men who held the helm in those stormy times. but although england owed her deliverance chiefly to the forethought and hardihood of her sons, it cannot be doubted that the sheer imbecility of her foes contributed not a little to that result. to both these conditions she owed the fact that the great armada, the embodiment of the foreign hatred and hostility, threatening to break upon her shores like a huge wave, vanished like its spray. medina sidonia, with his querulous complaints and general ineffectuality,[ ] was hardly a match for drake and his sturdy companions; nor were the leaders of the babington conspiracy, the representatives and would-be leaders of the corresponding internal convulsion, the infatuated worshippers of the fair devil of scotland, the men to cope for a moment with the intellects of walsingham and burleigh. [footnote : froude, xii. p. .] . the events which harsnet investigated and wrote upon with politico-theological animus formed an eddy in the main current of the babington conspiracy. for some years before that plot had taken definite shape, seminary priests had been swarming into england from the continent, and were sedulously engaged in preaching rebellion in the rural districts, sheltered and protected by the more powerful of the disaffected nobles and gentry--modern apostles, preparing the way before the future regenerator of england, cardinal allen, the would-be catholic archbishop of canterbury. among these was one weston, who, in his enthusiastic admiration for the martyr-traitor, edmund campion, had adopted the alias of edmonds. this jesuit was gifted with the power of casting out devils, and he exercised it in order to prove the divine origin of the holy catholic faith, and, by implication, the duty of all persons religiously inclined, to rebel against a sovereign who was ruthlessly treading it into the dust. the performances which harsnet examined into took place chiefly in the house of lord vaux at hackney, and of one peckham at denham, in the end of the year and the beginning of . the possessed persons were anthony tyrell, another jesuit who rounded upon his friends in the time of their tribulation;[ ] marwood, antony babington's private servant, who subsequently found it convenient to leave the country, and was never examined upon the subject; trayford and mainy, two young gentlemen, and sara and friswood williams, and anne smith, maid-servants. richard mainy, the most edifying subject of them all, was seventeen only when the possession seized him; he had only just returned to england from rheims, and, when passing through paris, had come under the influence of charles paget and morgan; so his antecedents appeared somewhat open to suspicion.[ ] [footnote : the fall of anthony tyrell, by persoun. see the troubles of our catholic forefathers, by john morris, p. .] [footnote : he was examined by the government as to his connection with the paris conspirators.--see state papers, vol. clxxx. , .] . with the truth or falsehood of the statements and deductions made by harsnet, we have little or no concern. western did not pretend to deny that he had the power of exorcism, or that he exercised it upon the persons in question, but he did not admit the truth of any of the more ridiculous stories which harsnet so triumphantly brings forward to convict him of intentional deceit; and his features, if the portrait in father morris's book is an accurate representation of him, convey an impression of feeble, unpractical piety that one is loth to associate with a malicious impostor. in addition to this, one of the witnesses against him, tyrell, was a manifest knave and coward; another, mainy, as conspicuous a fool; while the rest were servant-maids--all of them interested in exonerating themselves from the stigma of having been adherents of a lost cause, at the expense of a ringleader who seemed to have made himself too conspicuous to escape punishment. furthermore, the evidence of these witnesses was not taken until and , twelve and sixteen years after the events to which it related took place; and when taken, was taken by harsnet, a violent protestant and almost maniacal exorcist-hunter, as the miscellaneous collection of literature evoked by his exposure of parson darrell's dealings with will sommers and others will show. . among the many devils' names mentioned by harsnet in his "declaration," and in the examinations of witnesses annexed to it, the following have undoubtedly been repeated in "king lear":--fliberdigibet, spelt in the play flibbertigibbet; hoberdidance called hopdance and hobbididance; and frateretto, who are called morris-dancers; haberdicut, who appears in "lear" as obidicut; smolkin, one of trayford's devils; modu, who possessed mainy; and maho, who possessed sara williams. these two latter devils have in the play managed to exchange the final vowels of their names, and appear as modo and mahu.[ ] [footnote : in addition to these, killico has probably been corrupted into pillicock--a much more probable explanation of the word than either of those suggested by dyce in his glossary; and i have little doubt that the ordinary reading of the line, "pur! the cat is gray!" in act iii. vi. , is incorrect; that pur is not an interjection, but the repetition of the name of another devil, purre, who is mentioned by harsnet. the passage in question occurs only in the quartos, and therefore the fact that there is no stop at all after the word "pur" cannot be relied upon as helping to prove the correctness of this supposition. on the other hand, there is nothing in the texts to justify the insertion of the note of exclamation.] . a comparison of the passages in "king lear" spoken by edgar when feigning madness, with those in harsnet's book which seem to have suggested them, will furnish as vivid a picture as it is possible to give of the state of contemporary belief upon the subject of possession. it is impossible not to notice that nearly all the allusions in the play refer to the performance of the youth richard mainy. even edgar's hypothetical account of his moral failings in the past seems to have been an accurate reproduction of mainy's conduct in some particulars, as the quotation below will prove;[ ] and there appears to be so little necessity for these remarks of edgar's, that it seems almost possible that there may have been some point in these passages that has since been lost. a careful search, however, has failed to disclose any reason why mainy should be held up to obloquy; and the passages in question were evidently not the result of a direct reference to the "declaration." after his examination by harsnet in , mainy seems to have sunk into the insignificant position which he was so calculated to adorn, and nothing more is heard of him; so the references to him must be accidental merely. [footnote : "he would needs have persuaded this examinate's sister to have gone thence with him in the apparel of a youth, and to have been his boy and waited upon him.... he urged this examinate divers times to have yielded to his carnal desires, using very unfit tricks with her. there was also a very proper woman, one mistress plater, with whom this examinate perceived he had many allurements, showing great tokens of extraordinary affection towards her."--evidence of sara williams, harsnet, p. . compare king lear, act iii. sc. iv. ll. - ; note especially l. .] . one curious little repetition in the play of a somewhat unimportant incident recorded by harsnet is to be found in the fourth scene of the third act, where edgar says-- "who gives anything to poor tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; _that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew_; set ratsbane by his porridge," etc.[ ] [footnote : l. , et seq.] the events referred to took place at denham. a halter and some knife-blades were found in a corridor of the house. "a great search was made in the house to know how the said halter and knife-blades came thither, but it could not in any wise be found out, as it was pretended, till master mainy in his next fit said, as it was reported, that the devil layd them in the gallery, that some of those that were possessed might either hang themselves with the halter, or kill themselves with the blades."[ ] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] . but the bulk of the references relating to the possession of mainy occur further on in the same scene:-- "_fool._ this cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. "_edgar._ take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse;[ ] set not thy sweet heart on proud array: tom's a-cold. "_lear._ what hast thou been? "_edgar._ a serving-man, proud in heart and mind, that curled my hair, wore my gloves in my cap, served the lust of my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with her;[ ] swore as many oaths as i spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it; wine loved i deeply; dice dearly; and in women out-paramoured the turk: false of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling of silks, betray thy poor heart to woman; keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets,[ ] thy pen from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend."[ ] [footnote : cf. § , and note.] [footnote : cf. § , and note.] [footnote : placket probably here means pockets; not, as usual, the slip in a petticoat. tom was possessed by mahu, the prince of stealing.] [footnote : l. , et seq.] this must be read in conjunction with what edgar says of himself subsequently:-- "five fiends have been in poor tom at once; of lust, as obidicut; hobbididance, prince of dumbness; mahu, of stealing; modo, of murder; flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing; who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women."[ ] [footnote : act iv. i. .] the following are the chief parts of the account given by harsnet of the exorcism of mainy by weston--a most extraordinary transaction,--said to be taken from weston's own account of the matter. he was supposed to be possessed by the devils who represented the seven deadly sins, and "by instigation of the first of the seven, began to set his hands into his side, curled his hair, and used such gestures as maister edmunds present affirmed that that spirit was pride.[ ] heerewith he began to curse and to banne, saying, 'what a poxe do i heare? i will stay no longer among a company of rascal priests, but goe to the court and brave it amongst my fellowes, the noblemen there assembled.'[ ] ... then maister edmunds did proceede againe with his exorcismes, and suddenly the sences of mainy were taken from him, his belly began to swell, and his eyes to stare, and suddainly he cried out, 'ten pounds in the hundred!' he called for a scrivener to make a bond, swearing that he would not lend his money without a pawne.... there could be no other talke had with this spirit but money and usury, so as all the company deemed this devil to be the author of covetousnesse....[ ] [footnote : "a serving-man, proud of heart and mind, that curled my hair," etc.--l. ; cf. also l. . curling the hair as a sign of mainy's possession is mentioned again, harsnet, p. .] [footnote : "that ... swore as many oaths as i spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven."--l. .] [footnote : "keep ... thy pen out of lenders' books."--l. .] "ere long maister edmunds beginneth againe his exorcismes, wherein he had not proceeded farre, but up cometh another spirit singing most filthy and baudy songs: every word almost that he spake was nothing but ribaldry. they that were present with one voyce affirmed that devill to be the author of luxury.[ ] [footnote : "wine loved i deeply; dice dearly; and in women out-paramoured the turk."--l. .] "envy was described by disdainful looks and contemptuous speeches; wrath, by furious gestures, and talke as though he would have fought;[ ] gluttony, by vomiting;[ ] and sloth,[ ] by gasping and snorting, as though he had been asleepe."[ ] [footnote : "dog in madness, lion in prey."--l. .] [footnote : "wolf in greediness."--ibid.] [footnote : "hog in sloth."--l. .] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] a sort of prayer-meeting was then held for the relief of the distressed youth: "whereupon the spirit of pride departed in the forme of a peacocke; the spirit of sloth in the likenesse of an asse; the spirit of envy in the similitude of a dog; the spirit of gluttony in the forme of a wolfe."[ ] [footnote : the words, "hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey," are clearly an imperfect reminiscence of this part of the transaction.] there is in another part of "king lear" a further reference to the incidents attendant upon these exorcisms edgar says,[ ] "the foul fiend haunts poor tom in the voice of a nightingale." this seems to refer to the following incident related by friswood williams:-- "there was also another strange thing happened at denham about a bird. mistris peckham had a nightingale, which she kept in a cage, wherein maister dibdale took great delight, and would often be playing with it. this nightingale was one night conveyed out of the cage, and being next morning diligently sought for, could not be heard of, till maister mainie's devil, in one of his fits (as it was pretended), said that the wicked spirit which was in this examinate's sister[ ] had taken the bird out of the cage, and killed it in despite of maister dibdale."[ ] [footnote : act iii. sc. vi. l. .] [footnote : sara williams.] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] . the treatment to which, in consequence of his belief in possession, unfortunate persons like mainy and sommers, who were probably only suffering from some harmless form of mental disease, were subjected, was hardly calculated to effect a cure. the most ignorant quack was considered perfectly competent to deal with cases which, in reality, require the most delicate and judicious management, combined with the profoundest physiological, as well as psychological, knowledge. the ordinary method of dealing with these lunatics was as simple as it was irritating. bonds and confinement in a darkened room were the specifics; and the monotony of this treatment was relieved by occasional visits from the sage who had charge of the case, to mumble a prayer or mutter an exorcism. another popular but unpleasant cure was by flagellation; so that romeo's "not mad, but bound more than a madman is, shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented,"[ ] if an exaggerated description of his own mental condition is in itself no inflated metaphor. [footnote : i. ii. .] . shakspere, in "the comedy of errors," and indirectly also in "twelfth night," has given us intentionally ridiculous illustrations of scenes which he had not improbably witnessed, in the country at any rate, and which bring vividly before us the absurdity of the methods of diagnosis and treatment usually adopted:-- _courtesan._ how say you now? is not your husband mad? _adriana._ his incivility confirms no less. good doctor pinch, you are a conjurer; establish him in his true sense again, and i will please you what you will demand. _luciana._ alas! how fiery and how sharp he looks! _courtesan._ mark how he trembles in his extasy! _pinch._ give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.[ ] _ant. e._ there is my hand, and let it feel your ear. _pinch._ i charge thee, satan, housed within this man, to yield possession to my holy prayers, and to thy state of darkness his thee straight; i conjure thee by all the saints in heaven. _ant. e._ peace, doting wizard, peace; i am not mad. _pinch._ o that thou wert not, poor distressed soul![ ] after some further business, pinch pronounces his opinion: "mistress, both man and master are possessed; i know it by their pale and deadly looks: they must be bound, and laid in some dark room."[ ] but "good doctor pinch" seems to have been mild even to feebleness in his conjuration; many of his brethren in art had much more effective formulae. it seems that devils were peculiarly sensitive to any opprobrious epithets that chanced to be bestowed upon them. the skilful exorcist took advantage of this weakness, and, if he could only manage to keep up a flow of uncomplimentary remarks sufficiently long and offensive, the unfortunate spirit became embarrassed, restless, agitated, and finally took to flight. here is a specimen of the "nicknames" which had so potent an effect, if harsnet is to be credited:-- "heare therefore, thou senceless false lewd spirit, maister of devils, miserable creature, tempter of men, deceaver of bad angels, captaine of heretiques, father of lyes, fatuous bestial ninnie, drunkard, infernal theefe, wicked serpent, ravening woolfe, leane hunger-bitten impure sow, seely beast, truculent beast, cruel beast, bloody beast, beast of all blasts, the most bestiall acherontall spirit, smoakie spirit, tartareus spirit!"[ ] whether this objurgation terminates from loss of breath on the part of the conjurer, or the precipitate departure of the spirit addressed, it is impossible to say; it is difficult to imagine any logical reason for its conclusion. [footnote : the cessation of the pulse was one of the symptoms of possession. see the case of sommers, tryal of maister darrell, .] [footnote : iv. iv. , .] [footnote : ibid. .] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] . occasionally other, and sometimes more elaborate, methods of exorcism than those mentioned by romeo were adopted, especially when the operation was conducted for the purpose of bringing into prominence some great religious truth. the more evangelical of the operators adopted the plan of lying on the top of their patients, "after the manner of elias and pawle."[ ] but the catholic exorcists invented and carried to perfection the greatest refinement in the art. the patient, seated in a "holy chair," specially sanctified for the occasion, was compelled to drink about a pint of a compound of sack and salad oil; after which refreshment a pan of burning brimstone was held under his nose, until his face was blackened by the smoke.[ ] all this while the officiating priest kept up his invocation of the fiends in the manner illustrated above; and, under such circumstances, it is extremely doubtful whether the most determined character would not be prepared to see somewhat unusual phenomena for the sake of a short respite. [footnote : the tryall of maister darrell, , p. .] [footnote : harsnet, p. .] . another remarkable method of exorcism was a process termed "firing out" the fiend.[ ] the holy flame of piety resident in the priest was so terrible to the evil spirit, that the mere contact of the holy hand with that part of the body of the afflicted person in which he was resident was enough to make him shrink away into some more distant portion; so, by a judicious application of the hand, the exorcist could drive the devil into some limb, from which escape into the body was impossible, and the evil spirit, driven to the extremity, was obliged to depart, defeated and disgraced.[ ] this influence could be exerted, however, without actual corporal contact, as the following quaint extract from harsnet's book will show:-- "some punie rash devil doth stay till the holy priest be come somewhat neare, as into the chamber where the demoniacke doth abide, purposing, as it seemes, to try a pluck with the priest; and then his hart sodainly failing him (as demas, when he saw his friend chinias approach), cries out that he is tormented with the presence of the priest, and so is fierd out of his hold."[ ] [footnote : this expression occurs in sonnet cxliv., and evidently with the meaning here explained; only the bad angel is supposed to fire out the good one.] [footnote : harsnet, pp. , , .] [footnote : ibid. p. .] . the more violent or uncommon of the bodily diseases were, as the quotation from cotta's book shows[ ], attributed to the same diabolic source. in an era when the most profound ignorance prevailed with regard to the simplest laws of health; when the commoner diseases were considered as god's punishment for sin, and not attributable to natural causes; when so eminent a divine as bishop hooper could declare that "the air, the water, and the earth have no poison in themselves to hurt their lord and master man,"[ ] unless man first poisoned himself with sin; and when, in consequence of this ignorance and this false philosophy, and the inevitable neglect attendant upon them, those fearful plagues known as "the black death" could, almost without notice, sweep down upon a country, and decimate its inhabitants--it is not wonderful that these terrible scourges were attributed to the malevolence of the evil one. [footnote : see §§ , .] [footnote : i hooper, p. . parker society.] . but it is curious to notice that, although possessing such terrible powers over the bodies and minds of mortals, devils were not believed to be potent enough to destroy the lives of the persons they persecuted unless they could persuade their victims to renounce god. this theory probably sprang out of the limitation imposed by the almighty upon the power of satan during his temptation of job, and the advice given to the sufferer by his wife, "curse god, and die." hence, when evil spirits began their assaults upon a man, one of their first endeavours was to induce him to do some act that would be equivalent to such a renunciation. sometimes this was a bond assigning the victim's soul to the evil one in consideration of certain worldly advantages; sometimes a formal denial of his baptism; sometimes a deed that drives away the guardian angel from his side, and leaves the devil's influence uncounteracted. in "the witch of edmonton,"[ ] the first act that mother sawyer demands her familiar to perform after she has struck her bargain, is to kill her enemy banks; and the fiend has reluctantly to declare that he cannot do so unless by good fortune he could happen to catch him cursing. both harpax[ ] and mephistophiles[ ] suggest to their victims that they have power to destroy their enemies, but neither of them is able to exercise it. faust can torment, but not kill, his would-be murderers; and springius and hircius are powerless to take dorothea's life. in the latter case it is distinctly the protection of the guardian angel that limits the diabolic power; so it is not unnatural that gratiano should think the cursing of his better angel from his side the "most desperate turn" that poor old brabantio could have done himself, had he been living to hear of his daughter's cruel death.[ ] it is next to impossible for people in the present day to have any idea what a consolation this belief in a good attendant spirit, specially appointed to guard weak mortals through life, to ward off evils, and guide to eternal safety, must have been in a time when, according to the current belief, any person, however blameless, however holy, was liable at any moment to be possessed by a devil, or harried and tortured by a witch. [footnote : act ii. sc. i.] [footnote : the virgin martyr, act iii. sc. iii.] [footnote : dr. faustus, act i. sc. iii.] [footnote : othello, act v. sc. ii. .] . this leads by a natural sequence to the consideration of another and more insidious form of attack upon mankind adopted by the evil spirits. possession and obsession were methods of assault adopted against the will of the afflicted person, and hardly to be avoided by him without the supernatural intervention of the church. the practice of witchcraft and magic involved the absolute and voluntary barter of body and soul to the evil one, for the purpose of obtaining a few short years of superhuman power, to be employed for the gratification of the culprit's avarice, ambition, or desire for revenge. . in the strange history of that most inexplicable mental disease, the witchcraft epidemic, as it has been justly called by a high authority on such matters,[ ] we moderns are, by the nature of our education and prejudices, completely incapacitated for sympathizing with either the persecutors or their victims. we are at a loss to understand how clear-sighted and upright men, like sir matthew hale, could consent to become parties to a relentless persecution to the death of poor helpless beings whose chief crime, in most cases, was, that they had suffered starvation both in body and in mind. we cannot understand it, because none of us believe in the existence of evil spirits. none; for although there are still a few persons who nominally hold to the ancient faith, as they do to many other respectable but effete traditions, yet they would be at a loss for a reason for the faith that is in them, should they chance to be asked for one; and not one of them would be prepared to make the smallest material sacrifice for the sake of it. it is true that the existence of evil spirits recently received a tardy and somewhat hesitating recognition in our ecclesiastical courts,[ ] which at first authoritatively declared that a denial of the existence of the personality of the devil constituted a man a notorious evil liver, and depraver of the book of common prayer;[ ] but this was promptly reversed by the judicial committee of the privy council, under the auspices of two low church law lords and two archbishops, with the very vague proviso that "they do not mean to decide that those doctrines are otherwise than inconsistent with the formularities of the church of england;"[ ] yet the very contempt with which these portentous declarations of church law have been received shows how great has been the fall of the once almost omnipotent minister of evil. the ancient satan does indeed exist in some few formularies, but in such a washed-out and flimsy condition as to be the reverse of conspicuous. all that remains of him and of his subordinate legions is the ineffectual ghost of a departed creed, for the resuscitation of which no man will move a finger. [footnote : see dr. carpenter in _frazer_ for november, .] [footnote : see jenkins v. cooke, law reports, admiralty and ecclesiastical cases, vol. iv. p. , et seq.] [footnote : ibid. p. , sir r. phillimore.] [footnote : law reports, i probate division, p. .] . it is perfectly impossible for us, therefore, to comprehend, although by an effort we may perhaps bring ourselves to imagine, the horror and loathing with which good men, entirely believing in the existence and omnipresence of countless legions of evil spirits, able and anxious to perpetrate the mischiefs that it has been the object of these pages in some part to describe, would regard those who, for their own selfish gratification, deliberately surrendered their hopes of eternal happiness in exchange for an alliance with the devils, which would render these ten times more capable than before of working their wicked wills. to men believing this, no punishment could seem too sudden or too terrible for such offenders against religion and society, and no means of possible detection too slight or far-fetched to be neglected; indeed, it might reasonably appear to them better that many innocent persons should perish, with the assurance of future reward for their undeserved sufferings, than that a single guilty one should escape undetected, and become the medium by which the devil might destroy more souls. . but the persecuted, far more than the persecutors, deserve our sympathy, although they rarely obtain it. it is frequently asserted that the absolute truth of a doctrine is the only support that will enable its adherents successfully to weather the storms of persecution. those who assent to this proposition must be prepared to find a large amount of truth in the beliefs known to us under the name of witchcraft, if the position is to be successfully maintained; for never was any sect persecuted more systematically, or with more relentlessness, than these little-offending heretics. protestants and catholics, anglicans and calvinists, so ready at all times to commit one another to the flames and to the headsman, found in this matter common ground, upon which all could heartily unite for the grand purpose of extirpating error. when, out of the quiet of our own times, we look back upon the terrors of the tower, and the smoke and glare of smithfield, we think with mingled pity and admiration of those brave men and women who, in the sixteenth century, enriched with their blood and ashes the soil from whence was to spring our political and religious freedom. but no whit of admiration, hardly a glimmer of pity, is even casually evinced for those poor creatures who, neglected, despised, and abhorred, were, at the same time, dying the same agonizing death, and passing through the torment of the flames to that "something after death--the undiscovered country," without the sweet assurance which sustained their better-remembered fellow-sufferers, that beyond the martyr's cross was waiting the martyr's crown. no such hope supported those who were condemned to die for the crime of witchcraft: their anticipations of the future were as dreary as their memories of the past, and no friendly voice was raised, or hand stretched out, to encourage or console them during that last sad journey. their hope of mercy from man was small--strangulation before the application of the fire, instead of the more lingering and painful death at most;--their hope of mercy from heaven, nothing; yet, under these circumstances, the most auspicious perhaps that could be imagined for the extirpation of a heretical belief, persecution failed to effect its object. the more the government burnt the witches, the more the crime of witchcraft spread; and it was not until an attitude of contemptuous toleration was adopted towards the culprits that the belief died down, gradually but surely, not on account of the conclusiveness of the arguments directed against it, but from its own inherent lack of vitality.[ ] [footnote : see mr. lecky's elaborate and interesting description of the demise of the belief in the first chapter of his history of the rise of rationalism in europe.] . the history and phenomena of witchcraft have been so admirably treated by more than one modern investigator, as to render it unnecessary to deal exhaustively with a subject which presents such a vast amount of material for arrangement and comment. the scope of the following remarks will therefore be limited to a consideration of such features of the subject as appear to throw light upon the supernaturalism in "macbeth." this consideration will be carried out with some minuteness, as certain modern critics, importing mythological learning that is the outcome of comparatively recent investigation into the interpretation of the text, have declared that the three sisters who play such an important part in that drama are not witches at all, but are, or are intimately allied to, the norns or fates of scandinavian paganism. it will be the object of the following pages to illustrate the contemporary belief concerning witches and their powers, by showing that nearly every characteristic point attributed to the sisters has its counterpart in contemporary witch-lore; that some of the allusions, indeed, bear so strong a resemblance to certain events that had transpired not many years before "macbeth" was written, that it is not improbable that shakspere was alluding to them in much the same off-hand, cursory manner as he did to the mainy incident when writing "king lear." . the first critic whose comments upon this subject call for notice is the eminent gervinus. in evident ignorance of the history of witchcraft, he says, "in the witches shakspere has made use of the popular belief in evil geniuses and in adverse persecutors of mankind, and has produced a similar but darker race of beings, just as he made use of the belief in fairies in the 'midsummer night's dream.' this creation is less attractive and complete, but not less masterly. the poet, in the text of the play itself, calls these beings witches only derogatorily; they call themselves weird sisters; the fates bore this denomination, and the sisters remind us indeed of the northern fates or valkyries. they appear wild and weather-beaten in exterior and attire, common in speech, ignoble, half-human creatures, ugly as the evil one, and in like manner old, and of neither sex. they are guided by more powerful masters, their work entirely springs from delight in evil, and they are wholly devoid of human sympathies.... they are simply the embodiment of inward temptation; they come in storm and vanish in air, like corporeal impulses, which, originating in the blood, cast up bubbles of sin and ambition in the soul; they are weird sisters only in the sense in which men carry their own fates within their bosoms."[ ] this criticism is so entirely subjective and unsupported by evidence that it is difficult to deal satisfactorily with it. it will be shown hereafter that this description does not apply in the least to the scandinavian norns, while, so far as it is true to shakspere's text, it does not clash with contemporary records of the appearance and actions of witches. [footnote : shakspere commentaries, translated by f.e. bunnert, p. .] . the next writer to bring forward a view of this character was the rev. f.g. fleay, the well-known shakspere critic, whose ingenious efforts in iconoclasm cause a curious alternation of feeling between admiration and amazement. his argument is unfortunately mixed up with a question of textual criticism; for he rejects certain scenes in the play as the work of the inferior dramatist middleton.[ ] the question relating to the text will only be noticed so far as it is inextricably involved with the argument respecting the nature of the weird sisters. mr. fleay's position is, shortly, this. he thinks that shakspere's play commenced with the entrance of macbeth and banquo in the third scene of the first act, and that the weird sisters who subsequently take part in that scene are norns, not witches; and that in the first scene of the fourth act, shakspere discarded the norns, and introduced three entirely new characters, who were intended to be genuine witches. [footnote : of the witch scenes mr. fleay rejects act i. sc. i., and sc. iii. down to l. , and act iii. sc. v.] . the evidence which can be produced in support of this theory, apart from question of style and probability, is threefold. the first proof is derived from a manuscript entitled "the booke of plaies and notes thereof, for common pollicie," written by a somewhat famous magician-doctor, simon forman, who was implicated in the murder of sir thomas overbury. he says, "in 'macbeth,' at the globe, , the th april, saturday, there was to be observed first how macbeth and banquo, two noblemen of scotland, riding through a wood, there stood before them three women fairies, or nymphs, and saluted macbeth, saying three times unto him, 'hail, macbeth, king of codor, for thou shalt be a king, but thou shalt beget no kings,'" etc.[ ] this, if forman's account held together decently in other respects, would be strong, although not conclusive, evidence in favour of the theory; but the whole note is so full of inconsistencies and misstatements, that it is not unfair to conclude, either that the writer was not paying marvellous attention to the entertainment he professed to describe, or that the player's copy differed in many essential points from the present text. not the least conspicuous of these inconsistencies is the account of the sisters' greeting of macbeth just quoted. subsequently forman narrates that duncan created macbeth prince of cumberland; and that "when macbeth had murdered the king, the blood on his hands could not be washed off by any means, nor from his wife's hands, which handled the bloody daggers in hiding them, by which means they became both much amazed and affronted." such a loose narration cannot be relied upon if the text in question contains any evidence at all rebutting the conclusion that the sisters are intended to be "women fairies, or nymphs." [footnote : see furness, variorum, p. .] . the second piece of evidence is the story of macbeth as it is narrated by holinshed, from which shakspere derived his material. in that account we read that "it fortuned as makbeth and banquho journied toward fores, where the king then laie, they went sporting by the waie togither without other companie, saue onlie themselues, passing thorough the woods and fields, when suddenlie in the middest of a laund there met them three women in strange and wild apparell, resembling creatures of elder world, whome when they attentivelie beheld, woondering much at the sight, the first of them spake and said; 'all haile, makbeth, thane of glammis' (for he had latelie entered into that dignitie and office by the death of his father sinell). the second of them said; 'haile, makbeth, thane of cawder.' but the third said; 'all haile, makbeth, that heereafter shall be king of scotland.' ... afterwards the common opinion was that these women were either the weird sisters, that is (as ye would say) the goddesses of destinie, or else some nymphs or feiries, indued with knowledge of prophesie by their necromanticall science, because everiething came to passe as they had spoken."[ ] this is all that is heard of these "goddesses of destinie" in holinshed's narrative. macbeth is warned to "beware macduff"[ ] by "certeine wizzards, in whose words he put great confidence;" and the false promises were made to him by "a certeine witch, whome he had in great trust, (who) had told him that he should neuer be slaine with man borne of anie woman, nor vanquished till the wood of bernane came to the castell of dunsinane."[ ] [footnote : holinshed, scotland, p. , c. , l. .] [footnote : macbeth, iv. l. . holinshed, p. , c. , l. .] [footnote : ibid. l. .] . in this account we find that the supernatural communications adopted by shakspere were derived from three sources; and the contention is that he has retained two of them--the "goddesses of destinie" and the witches; and the evidence of this retention is the third proof relied on, namely, that the stage direction in the first folio, act iv. sc. i., is, "enter hecate and the _other_ three witches," when three characters supposed to be witches are already upon the scene. holinshed's narrative makes it clear that the idea of the "goddesses of destinie" was distinctly suggested to shakspere's mind, as well as that of the witches, as the mediums of supernatural influence. the question is, did he retain both, or did he reject one and retain the other? it can scarcely be doubted that one such influence running through the play would conduce to harmony and unity of idea; and as shakspere, not a servile follower of his source in any case, has interwoven in "macbeth" the totally distinct narrative of the murder of king duffe,[ ] it is hardly to be supposed that he would scruple to blend these two different sets of characters if any advantage were to be gained by so doing. as to the stage direction in the first folio, it is difficult to see what it would prove, even supposing that the folio were the most scrupulous piece of editorial work that had ever been effected. it presupposes that the "weird sisters" are on the stage as well as the witches. but it is perfectly clear that the witches continue the dialogue; so the other more powerful beings must be supposed to be standing silent in the background--a suggestion so monstrous that it is hardly necessary to refer to the slovenliness of the folio stage directions to show how unsatisfactory an argument based upon one of them must be. [footnote : ibid. p. . "a sort of witches dwelling in a towne of murreyland called fores" (c. , l. ) were prominent in this account.] . the evidence of forman and holinshed has been stated fully, in order that the reader may be in possession of all the materials that may be necessary for forming an accurate judgment upon the point in question; but it seems to be less relied upon than the supposition that the appearance and powers of the beings in the admittedly genuine part of the third scene of the first act are not those formerly attributed to witches, and that shakspere, having once decided to represent norns, would never have degraded them "to three old women, who are called by paddock and graymalkin, sail in sieves, kill swine, serve hecate, and deal in all the common charms, illusions, and incantations of vulgar witches. the three who 'look not like the inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet are on't;' they who can 'look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow;' they who seem corporal, but melt into the air, like bubbles of the earth; the weyward sisters, who make themselves air, and have in them more than mortal knowledge, are not beings of this stamp."[ ] [footnote : new shakspere society transactions, vol. i. p. ; fleay's shakspere manual, p. .] . now, there is a great mass of contemporary evidence to show that these supposed characteristics of the norns are, in fact, some of the chief attributes of the witches of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. if this be so--if it can be proved that the supposed "goddesses of destinie" of the play in reality possess no higher powers than could be acquired by ordinary communication with evil spirits, then no weight must be attached to the vague stage direction in the folio, occurring as it does in a volume notorious for the extreme carelessness with which it was produced; and it must be admitted that the "goddesses of destinie" of holinshed were sacrificed for the sake of the witches. if, in addition to this, it can be shown that there was a very satisfactory reason why the witches should have been chosen as the representatives of the evil influence instead of the norns, the argument will be as complete as it is possible to make it. . but before proceeding to examine the contemporary evidence, it is necessary, in order to obtain a complete conception of the mythological view of the weird sisters, to notice a piece of criticism that is at once an expansion of, and a variation upon, the theory just stated.[ ] it is suggested that the sisters of "macbeth" are but three in number, but that shakspere drew upon scandinavian mythology for a portion of the material he used in constructing these characters, and that he derived the rest from the traditions of contemporary witchcraft; in fact, that the "sisters" are hybrids between norns and witches. the supposed proof of this is that each sister exercises the special function of one of the norns. "the third is the special prophetess, whilst the first takes cognizance of the past, and the second of the present, in affairs connected with humanity. these are the tasks of urda, verdandi, and skulda. the first begins by asking, 'when shall we three meet again?' the second decides the time: 'when the battle's lost or won.' the third, the future prophesies: 'that will be ere set of sun.' the first again asks, 'where?' the second decides: 'upon the heath.' the third, the future prophesies: 'there to meet with macbeth.'" but their _rôle_ is most clearly brought out in the famous "hails":-- _ st. urda._ [past.] all hail, macbeth! hail to thee, thane of glamis! _ nd. verdandi._ [present.] all hail, macbeth! hail to thee, thane of cawdor! _ rd. skulda._ all hail, macbeth! thou shalt be king hereafter.[ ] this sequence is supposed to be retained in other of the sisters' speeches; but a perusal of these will soon show that it is only in the second of the above quotations that it is recognizable with any definiteness; and this, it must be remembered, is an almost verbal transcript from holinshed, and not an original conception of shakspere's, who might feel himself quite justified in changing the characters of the speakers, while retaining their utterances. in addition to this, the natural sequence is in many cases utterly and unnecessarily violated; as, for instance, in act i. sc. iii., where urda, who should be solely occupied with past matters, predicts, with extreme minuteness, the results that are to follow from her projected voyage to aleppo, and that without any expression of resentment, but rather with promise of assistance, from skulda, whose province she is thus invading. [footnote : in a letter to _the academy_, th february, , signed "charlotte carmichael."] [footnote : i have taken the liberty of printing this quotation as it stands in the text. the writer in _the academy_ has effected a rearrangement of the dialogue by importing what might be macbeth's replies to the three sisters from his speech beginning at l. , and alternating them with the different "hails," which, in addition, are not correctly quoted--for what purpose it is difficult to see. it may be added here that in a subsequent number of _the academy_, a long letter upon the same subject appeared from mr. karl blind, which seems to prove little except the author's erudition. he assumes the teutonic origin of the sisters throughout, and, consequently, adduces little evidence in favour of the theory. one of his points is the derivation of the word "weird" or "wayward," which, as will be shown subsequently, was applied to witches. another point is, that the witch scenes savour strongly of the staff-rime of old german poetry. it is interesting to find two upholders of the norn-theory relying mainly for proof of their position upon a scene (act i. sc. i.) which mr fleay says that the very statement of this theory (p. ) must brand as spurious. the question of the sisters' beards too, regarding which mr. blind brings somewhat far-fetched evidence, is, i think, more satisfactorily settled by the quotations in the text.] . but this latter piece of criticism seems open to one grave objection to which the former is not liable. mr. fleay separates the portions of the play which are undoubtedly to be assigned to witches from the parts he gives to his norns, and attributes them to different characters; the other mixes up the witch and norn elements in one confused mass. the earlier critic saw the absurdity of such a supposition when he wrote: "shakspere may have raised the wizard and witches of the latter parts of holinshed to the weird sisters of the former parts, but the converse process is impossible."[ ] is it conceivable that shakspere, who, as most people admit, was a man of some poetic feeling, being in possession of the beautiful norn-legend--the silent fate-goddesses sitting at the foot of igdrasil, the mysterious tree of human existence, and watering its roots with water from the sacred spring--could, ruthlessly and without cause, mar the charm of the legend by the gratuitous introduction of the gross and primarily unpoetical details incident to the practice of witchcraft? no man with a glimmer of poetry in his soul will imagine it for a moment. the separation of characters is more credible than this; but if that theory can be shown to be unfounded, there is no improbability in supposing that shakspere, finding that the question of witchcraft was, in consequence of events that had taken place not long before the time of the production of "macbeth," absorbing the attention of all men, from king to peasant, should set himself to deal with such a popular subject, and, by the magic of his art, so raise it out of its degradation into the region of poetry, that men should wonder and say, "can this be witchcraft indeed?" [footnote : shakspere manual, p. .] . in comparing the evidence to be deduced from the contemporary records of witchcraft with the sayings and doings of the sisters in "macbeth," those parts of the play will first be dealt with upon which no doubt as to their genuineness has ever been cast, and which are asserted to be solely applicable to norns. if it can be shown that these describe witches rather than norns, the position that shakspere intentionally substituted witches for the "goddesses of destinie" mentioned in his authority is practically unassailable. first, then, it is asserted that the description of the appearance of the sisters given by banquo applies to norns rather than witches-- "they look not like the inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet are on't." this question of applicability, however, must not be decided by the consideration of a single sentence, but of the whole passage from which it is extracted; and, whilst considering it, it should be carefully borne in mind that it occurs immediately before those lines which are chiefly relied upon as proving the identity of the sisters with urda, verdandi, and skulda. banquo, on seeing the sisters, says-- "what are these, so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet are on't? live you, or are you aught that man may question? you seem to understand me, by each at once her chappy finger laying upon her skinny lips: you should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so." it is in the first moment of surprise that the sisters, appearing so suddenly, seem to banquo unlike the inhabitants of this earth. when he recovers from the shock and is capable of deliberate criticism, he sees chappy fingers, skinny lips--in fact, nothing to distinguish them from poverty-stricken, ugly old women but their beards. a more accurate poetical counterpart to the prose descriptions given by contemporary writers of the appearance of the poor creatures who were charged with the crime of witchcraft could hardly have been penned. scot, for instance, says, "they are women which commonly be old, lame, bleare-eied, pale, fowle, and full of wrinkles.... they are leane and deformed, showing melancholie in their faces;"[ ] and harsnet describes a witch as "an old weather-beaten crone, having her chin and knees meeting for age, walking like a bow, leaning on a staff, hollow-eyed, untoothed, furrowed, having her lips trembling with palsy, going mumbling in the streets; one that hath forgotten her pater-noster, yet hath a shrewd tongue to call a drab a drab."[ ] it must be remembered that these accounts are by two sceptics, who saw nothing in the witches but poor, degraded old women. in a description which assumes their supernatural power such minute details would not be possible; yet there is quite enough in banquo's description to suggest neglect, squalor, and misery. but if this were not so, there is one feature in the description of the sisters that would settle the question once and for ever. the beard was in elizabethan times the recognized characteristic of the witch. in one old play it is said, "the women that come to us for disguises must wear beards, and that's to say a token of a witch;"[ ] and in another, "some women have beards; marry, they are half witches;"[ ] and sir hugh evans gives decisive testimony to the fact when he says of the disguised falstaff, "by yea and no, i think, the 'oman is a witch indeed: i like not when a 'oman has a great peard; i spy a great peard under her muffler."[ ] [footnote : discoverie, book i. ch. , p. .] [footnote : harsnet, declaration, p. .] [footnote : honest man's fortune, ii. i. furness, variorum, p. .] [footnote : dekker's honest whore, sc. x. l. .] [footnote : merry wives of windsor, act iv. sc. ii.] . every item of banquo's description indicates that he is speaking of witches; nothing in it is incompatible with that supposition. will it apply with equal force to norns? it can hardly be that these mysterious mythical beings, who exercise an incomprehensible yet powerful influence over human destiny, could be described with any propriety in terms so revolting. a veil of wild, weird grandeur might be thrown around them; but can it be supposed that shakspere would degrade them by representing them with chappy fingers, skinny lips, and beards? it is particularly to be noticed, too, that although in this passage he is making an almost verbal transcript from holinshed, these details are interpolated without the authority of the chronicle. let it be supposed, for an instant, that the text ran thus-- _banquo._ ... what are these so withered and so wild in their attire,[ ] that look not like the inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet are on't?[ ] live you, or are you ought that man may question?[ ] _macbeth._ speak if you can, what are you? _ st witch._ all hail, macbeth! hail to thee, thane of glamis![ ] _ nd witch._ all hail, macbeth! hail to thee, thane of cawdor![ ] _ rd witch._ all hail, macbeth! thou shall be king hereafter.[ ] this is so accurate a dramatization of the parallel passage in holinshed, and so entire in itself, that there is some temptation to ask whether it was not so written at first, and the interpolated lines subsequently inserted by the author. whether this be so or not, the question must be put--why, in such a passage, did shakspere insert three lines of most striking description of the appearance of witches? can any other reason be suggested than that he had made up his mind to replace the "goddesses of destinie" by the witches, and had determined that there should be no possibility of any doubt arising about it? [footnote : three women in strange and wild apparel,] [footnote : resembling creatures of elder world,] [footnote : whome when they attentivelie beheld, woondering much at the sight, the first of them spake and said;] [footnote : 'all haile, makbeth, thane of glammis' (for he had latelie entered into that dignitie and office by the death of his father sinell).] [footnote : the second of them said; 'haile, makbeth, thane of cawder.'] [footnote : but the third said; 'all haile, makbeth, that heereafter shalt be king of scotland.'] . the next objection is, that the sisters exercise powers that witches did not possess. they can "look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow, and which will not." in other words, they foretell future events, which witches could not do. but this is not the fact. the recorded witch trials teem with charges of having prophesied what things were about to happen; no charge is more common. the following, quoted by charles knight in his biography of shakspere, might almost have suggested the simile in the last-mentioned lines. johnnet wischert is "indicted for passing to the green growing corn in may, twenty-two years since or thereby, sitting thereupon tymous in the morning before the sun-rising, and being there found and demanded what she was doing, thou[ ] answered, i shall tell thee; i have been peeling the blades of the corn. i find it will be a dear year, the blade of the corn grows withersones [contrary to the course of the sun], and when it grows sonegatis about [with the course of the sun] it will be good cheap year."[ ] the following is another apt illustration of the power, which has been translated from the unwieldy lowland scotch account of the trial of bessie roy in . the dittay charged her thus: "you are indicted and accused that whereas, when you were dwelling with william king in barra, about twelve years ago, or thereabouts, and having gone into the field to pluck lint with other women, in their presence made a compass in the earth, and a hole in the midst thereof; and afterwards, by thy conjurations thou causedst a great worm to come up first out of the said hole, and creep over the compass; and next a little worm came forth, which crept over also; and last [thou] causedst a great worm to come forth, which could not pass over the compass, but fell down and died. which enchantment and witchcraft thou interpretedst in this form: that the first great worm that crept over the compass was the goodman william king, who should live; and the little worm was a child in the goodwife's womb, who was unknown to any one to be with child, and that the child should live; and, thirdly, the last great worm thou interpretedst to be the goodwife, who should die: _which came to pass after thy speaking_."[ ] surely there could hardly be plainer instances of looking "into the seeds of time, and saying which grain will grow, and which will not," than these. [footnote : sic.] [footnote : p. .] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. . cf. also ibid. pp. , , and , where the crime is described as "foreknowledge."] . perhaps this is the most convenient place for pointing out the full meaning of the first scene of "macbeth," and its necessary connection with the rest of the play. it is, in fact, the fag-end of a witches' sabbath, which, if fully represented, would bear a strong resemblance to the scene at the commencement of the fourth act. but a long scene on such a subject would be tedious and unmeaning at the commencement of the play. the audience is therefore left to assume that the witches have met, performed their conjurations, obtained from the evil spirits the information concerning macbeth's career that they desired to obtain, and perhaps have been commanded by the fiends to perform the mission they subsequently carry through. all that is needed for the dramatic effect is a slight hint of probable diabolical interference, and that macbeth is to be the special object of it; and this is done in as artistic a manner as is perhaps imaginable. in the first scene they obtain their information; in the second they utter their prediction. every minute detail of these scenes is based upon the broad, recognized facts of witchcraft. . it is also suggested that the power of vanishing from the sight possessed by the sisters--the power to make themselves air--was not characteristic of witches. but this is another assertion that would not have been made, had the authorities upon the subject been investigated with only slight attention. no feature of the crime of witchcraft is better attested than this; and the modern witch of story-books is still represented as riding on a broomstick--a relic of the enchanted rod with which the devil used to provide his worshippers, upon which to come to his sabbaths.[ ] one of the charges in the indictment against the notorious dr. fian ran thus: "fylit for suffering himself to be careit to north berwik kirk, as if he had bene souchand athoirt [whizzing above] the eird."[ ] most effectual ointments were prepared for effecting this method of locomotion, which have been recorded, and are given below[ ] as an illustration of the wild kind of recipes which shakspere rendered more grim in his caldron scene. the efficacy of these ointments is well illustrated by a story narrated by reginald scot, which unfortunately, on account of certain incidents, cannot be given in his own terse words. the hero of it happened to be staying temporarily with a friend, and on one occasion found her rubbing her limbs with a certain preparation, and mumbling the while. after a time she vanished out of his sight; and he, being curious to investigate the affair, rubbed himself with the remaining ointment, and almost immediately he found himself transported a long distance through the air, and deposited right in the very midst of a witches' sabbath. naturally alarmed, he cried out, "'in the name of god, what make i heere?' and upon those words the whole assemblie vanished awaie."[ ] [footnote : scot, book iii. ch. iii. p. .] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. . cf. also ibid. p. . scot, book iii. ch. vii. p. .] [footnote : "sundrie receipts and ointments made and used for the transportation of witches, and other miraculous effects. "rx. the fat of yoong children, & seeth it with water in a brazen vessell, reseruing the thickest of that which remaineth boiled in the bottome, which they laie up & keep untill occasion serveth to use it. they put hereinto eleoselinum, aconitum, frondes populeas, & soote." this is given almost verbatim in middleton's witch. "rx. sium, acarum vulgare, pentaphyllon, the bloud of a flittermouse, solanum somniferum, & oleum." it would seem that fern seed had the same virtue.--i hen. iv. ii. i.] [footnote : scot, book iii. ch. vi. p. .] . the only vestige of a difficulty, therefore, that remains is the use of the term "weird sisters" in describing the witches. it is perfectly clear that holinshed used these words as a sort of synonym for the "goddesses of destinie;" but with such a mass of evidence as has been produced to show that shakspere elected to introduce witches in the place of the norns, it surely would not be unwarrantable to suppose that he might retain this term as a poetical and not unsuitable description of the characters to whom it was applied. and this is the less improbable as it can be shown that both words were at times applied to witches. as the quotation given subsequently[ ] proves, the scotch witches were in the habit of speaking of the frequenters of a particular sabbath as "the sisters;" and in heywood's "witches of lancashire," one of the characters says about a certain act of supposed witchcraft, "i remember that some three months since i crossed a wayward woman; one that i now suspect."[ ] [footnote : § , p. .] [footnote : act v. sc. iii.] . here, then, in the very stronghold of the supposed proof of the norn-theory, it is possible to extract convincing evidence that the sisters are intended to be merely witches. it is not surprising that other portions of the play in which the sisters are mentioned should confirm this view. banquo, upon hearing the fulfilment of the prophecy of the second witch, clearly expresses his opinion of the origin of the "foreknowledge" he has received, in the exclamation, "what, can the devil speak true?" for the devil most emphatically spoke through the witches; but how could he in any sense be said to speak through norns? again, macbeth informs his wife that on his arrival at forres, he made inquiry into the amount of reliance that could be placed in the utterances of the witches, "and learned by the perfectest report that they had more in them than mortal knowledge."[ ] this would be possible enough if witches were the subjects of the investigation, for their chief title to authority would rest upon the general opinion current in the neighbourhood in which they dwelt; but how could such an inquiry be carried out successfully in the case of norns? it is noticeable, too, that macbeth knows exactly where to find the sisters when he wants them; and when he says-- "more shall they speak; for now i am bent to know, by the worst means, the worst,"[ ] he makes another clear allusion to the traffic of the witches with the devil. after the events recorded in act iv. sc. i., macbeth speaks of the prophecies upon which he relies as "the equivocation of the fiend,"[ ] and the prophets as "these juggling fiends;"[ ] and with reason--for he has seen and heard the very devils themselves, the masters of the witches and sources of all their evil power. every point in the play that bears upon the subject at all tends to show that shakspere intentionally replaced the "goddesses of destinie" by witches; and that the supposed norn origin of these characters is the result of a somewhat too great eagerness to unfold a novel and startling theory. [footnote : act i. sc. v. l. .] [footnote : mr. fleay avoids the difficulty created by this passage, which alludes to the witches as "the weird sisters," by supposing that these lines were interpolated by middleton--a method of criticism that hardly needs comment. act iii. sc. iv. l. .] [footnote : act v. sc. v. l. .] [footnote : ibid. sc. viii. l. .] . assuming, therefore, that the witch-nature of the sisters is conclusively proved, it now becomes necessary to support the assertion previously made, that good reason can be shown why shakspere should have elected to represent witches rather than norns. it is impossible to read "macbeth" without noticing the prominence given to the belief that witches had the power of creating storms and other atmospheric disturbances, and that they delighted in so doing. the sisters elect to meet in thunder, lightning, or rain. to them "fair is foul, and foul is fair," as they "hover through the fog and filthy air." the whole of the earlier part of the third scene of the first act is one blast of tempest with its attendant devastation. they can loose and bind the winds,[ ] cause vessels to be tempest-tossed at sea, and mutilate wrecked bodies.[ ] they describe themselves as "posters of the sea and land;"[ ] the heath they meet upon is blasted;[ ] and they vanish "as breath into the wind."[ ] macbeth conjures them to answer his questions thus:-- "though you untie the winds, and let them fight against the churches; though the yesty waves confound and swallow navigation up; though bladed corn be lodged, and trees blown down; though castles topple on their warders' heads; though palaces and pyramids do slope their heads to their foundations; though the treasure of nature's germens tumble all together, even till destruction sicken."[ ] [footnote : i. iii. , .] [footnote : act i. sc. iii. l. .] [footnote : ibid. l. .] [footnote : ibid. l. .] [footnote : ibid. ll. , .] [footnote : act iv. sc. i. ll. - .] . now, this command over the elements does not form at all a prominent feature in the english records of witchcraft. a few isolated charges of the kind may be found. in , for instance, a witch was burnt who confessed that she had caused all the tempests that had taken place in that year. scot, too, has a few short sentences upon this subject, but does not give it the slightest prominence.[ ] nor in the earlier scotch trials recorded by pitcairn does this charge appear amongst the accusations against the witches. it is exceedingly curious to notice the utter harmless nature of the charges brought against the earlier culprits; and how, as time went on and the panic increased, they gradually deepened in colour, until no act was too gross, too repulsive, or too ridiculously impossible to be excluded from the indictment. the following quotations from one of the earliest reported trials are given because they illustrate most forcibly the condition of the poor women who were supposed to be witches, and the real basis of fact upon which the belief in the crime subsequently built itself. [footnote : book iii. ch. , p. .] . bessie dunlop was tried for witchcraft in . one of the principal accusations against her was that she held intercourse with a devil who appeared to her in the shape of a neighbour of hers, one thom reed, who had recently died. being asked how and where she met thom reed, she said, "as she was gangand betwixt her own house and the yard of monkcastell, dryvand her ky to the pasture, and makand heavy sair dule with herself, gretand[ ] very fast for her cow that was dead, her husband and child that wer lyand sick in the land ill, and she new risen out of gissane,[ ] the aforesaid thom met her by the way, healsit[ ] her, and said, 'gude day, bessie,' and she said, 'god speed you, guidman.' 'sancta marie,' said he, 'bessie, why makes thow sa great dule and sair greting for ony wardlie thing?' she answered 'alas! have i not great cause to make great dule, for our gear is trakit,[ ] and my husband is on the point of deid, and one babie of my own will not live, and myself at ane weak point; have i not gude cause then to have ane sair hart?' but thom said, 'bessie, thou hast crabit[ ] god, and askit some thing you suld not have done; and tharefore i counsell thee to mend to him, for i tell thee thy barne sall die and the seik cow, or you come hame; and thy twa sheep shall die too; but thy husband shall mend, and shall be as hale and fair as ever he was.' and then i was something blyther, for he tauld me that my guidman would mend. then thom reed went away fra me in through the yard of monkcastell, and i thought that he gait in at ane narrower hole of the dyke nor anie erdlie man culd have gone throw, and swa i was something fleit."[ ] [footnote : weeping. i have only half translated this passage, for i feared to spoil the sad simplicity of it.] [footnote : child-bed.] [footnote : saluted.] [footnote : dwindled away.] [footnote : displeased.] [footnote : frightened.] this was the first time that thom appeared to her. on the third occasion he asked her "if she would not trow[ ] in him." she said "she would trow in ony bodye did her gude." then thom promised her much wealth if she would deny her christendom. she answered that "if she should be riven at horsis taillis, she suld never do that, but promised to be leal and trew to him in ony thing she could do," whereat he was angry. [footnote : trust.] on the fourth occasion, the poor woman fell further into sin, and accompanied thom to a fairy meeting. thom asked her to join the party; but she said "she saw na proffeit to gang thai kind of gaittis, unless she kend wherefor." thom offered the old inducement, wealth; but she replied that "she dwelt with her awin husband and bairnis," and could not leave them. and so thom began to be very crabit with her, and said, "if so she thought, she would get lytill gude of him." she was then demanded if she had ever asked any favour of thom for herself or any other person. she answered that "when sundrie persons came to her to seek help for their beast, their cow, or ewe, or for any barne that was tane away with ane evill blast of wind, or elf grippit, she gait and speirit[ ] at thom what myght help them; and thom would pull ane herb and gif her out of his awin hand, and bade her scheir[ ] the same with ony other kind of herbis, and oppin the beistes mouth, and put thame in, and the beist wald mend."[ ] [footnote : inquired.] [footnote : chop.] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. , et seq.] it seems hardly possible to believe that a story like this, which is half marred by the attempt to partially modernize its simple pathetic language, and which would probably bring a tear to the eye, if not a shilling from the pocket, of the most unsympathetic being of the present day, should be considered sufficient three hundred years ago, to convict the narrator of a crime worthy of death; yet so it was. this sad picture of the breakdown of a poor woman's intellect in the unequal struggle against poverty and sickness is only made visible to us by the light of the flames that, mercifully to her perhaps, took poor bessie dunlop away for ever from the sick husband, and weakly children, and the "ky," and the humble hovel where they all dwelt together, and from the daily, heart-rending, almost hopeless struggle to obtain enough food to keep life in the bodies of this miserable family. the historian--who makes it his chief anxiety to record, to the minutest and most irrelevant details, the deeds, noble or ignoble, of those who have managed to stamp their names upon the muster-roll of fame--turns carelessly or scornfully the page which contains such insignificant matter as this; but those who believe "that not a worm is cloven in vain; that not a moth with vain desire is shrivel'd in a fruitless fire, or but subserves another's gain," will hardly feel that poor bessie's life and death were entirely without their meaning. . as the trials for witchcraft increase, however, the details grow more and more revolting; and in the year we find a most extraordinary batch of cases--extraordinary for the monstrosity of the charges contained in them, and also for the fact that this feature, so insisted upon in macbeth, the raising of winds and storms, stands out in extremely bold relief. the explanation of this is as follows. in the year , king james vi. brought his bride, anne of denmark, home to scotland. during the voyage an unusually violent storm raged, which scattered the vessels composing the royal escort, and, it would appear, caused the destruction of one of them. by a marvellous chance, the king's ship was driven by a wind which blew directly contrary to that which filled the sails of the other vessels;[ ] and the king and queen were both placed in extreme jeopardy. james, who seems to have been as perfectly convinced of the reality of witchcraft as he was of his own infallibility, at once came to the conclusion that the storm had been raised by the aid of evil spirits, for the express purpose of getting rid of so powerful an enemy of the prince of darkness as the righteous king. the result was that a rigorous investigation was made into the whole affair; a great number of persons were tried for attempting the king's life by witchcraft; and that prince, undeterred by the apparent impropriety of being judge in what was, in reality, his own cause, presided at many of the trials, condescended to superintend the tortures applied to the accused in order to extort a confession, and even went so far in one case as to write a letter to the judges commanding a condemnation. [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. .] . under these circumstances, considering who the prosecutor was, and who the judge, and the effectual methods at the service of the court for extorting confessions,[ ] it is not surprising that the king's surmises were fully justified by the statements of the accused. it is impossible to read these without having parts of the witch-scenes in "macbeth" ringing in the ears like an echo. john fian, a young schoolmaster, and leader of the gang, or "coven" as it was called, was charged with having caused the leak in the king's ship, and with having raised the wind and created a mist for the purpose of hindering his voyage.[ ] on another occasion he and several other witches entered into a ship, and caused it to perish.[ ] he was also able by witchcraft to open locks.[ ] he visited churchyards at night, and dismembered bodies for his charms; the bodies of unbaptized infants being preferred.[ ] [footnote : the account of the tortures inflicted upon fian are too horrible for quotation.] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. .] [footnote : ibid. . he confessed that satan commanded him to chase cats "purposlie to be cassin into the sea to raise windis for destructioune of schippis." macbeth, i. iii. - .] [footnote : "fylit for opening of ane loke be his sorcerie in david seytounis moderis, be blawing in ane woman's hand, himself sittand att the fyresyde."--see also the case of bessie roy, i. ii. . the english method of opening locks was more complicated than the scotch, as will appear from the following quotation from scot, book xii. ch. xiv. p. :-- "a charme to open locks. take a peece of wax crossed in baptisme, and doo but print certeine floures therein, and tie them in the hinder skirt of your shirt; and when you would undoo the locke, blow thrice therein, saieing, 'arato hoc partico hoc maratarykin; i open this doore in thy name that i am forced to breake, as thou brakest hell gates. in nomine patris etc. amen.'" macbeth, iv. i. .] [footnote : "finger of birth-strangled babe, ditch-delivered by a drab." macbeth, iv. i. .] agnes sampsoune confessed to the king that to compass his death she took a black toad and hung it by the hind legs for three days, and collected the venom that fell from it. she said that if she could have obtained a piece of linen that the king had worn, she could have destroyed his life with this venom; "causing him such extraordinarie paines as if he had beene lying upon sharpe thornes or endis of needles."[ ] she went out to sea to a vessel called _the grace of god_, and when she came away the devil raised a wind, and the vessel was wrecked.[ ] she delivered a letter from fian to another witch, which was to this effect: "ye sall warne the rest of the sisteris to raise the winde this day at ellewin houris to stay the queenis cuming in scotland."[ ] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. . "toad, that under cold stone days and nights has thirty-one sweltered venom sleeping got." macbeth, iv. i. .] [footnote : ibid. .] [footnote : ibid. .] this is her confession as to the methods adopted for raising the storm. "at the time when his majestie was in denmarke, shee being accompanied by the parties before speciallie named, took a cat and christened it, and afterwards bounde to each part of that cat the cheefest parts of a dead man, and the severall joyntes of his bodie; and that in the night following the said cat was conveyed into the middest of the sea by all these witches, sayling in their riddles or cives,[ ] as is afore said, and so left the said cat right before the town of leith in scotland. this done, there did arise such a tempest in the sea as a greater hath not been seene, which tempest was the cause of the perishing of a vessell coming over from the town of brunt ilande to the town of leith.... againe, it is confessed that the said christened cat was the cause that the kinges majesties shippe at his coming forth of denmarke had a contrarie wind to the rest of his shippes...."[ ] [footnote : macbeth, i. iii. .] [footnote : pitcairn, reprint of newes from scotland, i. ii. . see also trial of ewsame mccalgane, i. ii. .] . it is worth a note that this art of going to sea in sieves, which shakspere has referred to in his drama, seems to have been peculiar to this set of witches. english witches had the reputation of being able to go upon the water in egg-shells and cockle-shells, but seem never to have detected any peculiar advantages in the sieve. not so these scotch witches. agnes told the king that she, "with a great many other witches, to the number of two hundreth, all together went to sea, each one in a riddle or cive, and went into the same very substantially, with flaggons of wine, making merrie, and drinking by the way in the same riddles or cives, to the kirke of north barrick in lowthian, and that after they landed they tooke hands on the lande and daunced a reill or short daunce." they then opened the graves and took the fingers, toes, and knees of the bodies to make charms.[ ] [footnote : pitcairn, i. ii. .] it can be easily understood that these trials created an intense excitement in scotland. the result was that a tract was printed, containing a full account of all the principal incidents; and the fact that this pamphlet was reprinted once, if not twice,[ ] in london, shows that interest in the affair spread south of the border; and this is confirmed by the publisher's prefatorial apology, in which he states that the pamphlet was printed to prevent the public from being imposed upon by unauthorized and extravagant statements of what had taken place.[ ] under ordinary circumstances, events of this nature would form a nine days' wonder, and then die a natural death; but in this particular case the public interest continued for an abnormal time; for eight years subsequent to the date of the trials, james published his "daemonologie"--a work founded to a great extent upon his experiences at the trials of . this was a sign to both england and scotland that the subject of witchcraft was still of engrossing interest to him; and as he was then the fully recognized heir-apparent to the english crown, the publication of such a work would not fail to induce a great amount of attention to the subject dealt with. in he ascended the english throne. his first parliament met on the th of march, , and on the th of the same month a bill was brought into the house of lords dealing with the question of witchcraft. it was referred to a committee of which twelve bishops were members; and this committee, after much debating, came to the conclusion that the bill was imperfect. in consequence of this a fresh one was drawn, and by the th of june a statute had passed both houses of parliament, which enacted, among other things, that "if any person shall practise or exercise any invocation or conjuration of any evil or wicked spirit, or shall consult with, entertain, feed, or reward any evil and wicked spirit,[ ] or take up any dead man, woman, or child out of his, her, or their grave ... or the skin, bone, or any other part of any dead person to be employed or used in any manner of witchcraft,[ ] ... or shall ... practise ... any witchcraft ... whereby any person shall be killed, wasted, pined, or lamed in his or her body or any part thereof,[ ] such offender shall suffer the pains of death as felons, without benefit of clergy or sanctuary." hutchinson, in his "essay on witchcraft," published in , declares that this statute was framed expressly to meet the offences exposed by the trials of - ; but, although this cannot be conclusively proved, yet it is not at all improbable that the hurry with which the statute was passed into law immediately upon the accession of james, would recall to the public mind the interest he had taken in those trials in particular and the subject in general, and that shakspere producing, as nearly all the critics agree, his tragedy at about this date, should draw upon his memory for the half-forgotten details of those trials, and thus embody in "macbeth" the allusions to them that have been pointed out--much less accurately than he did in the case of the babington affair, because the facts had been far less carefully recorded, and the time at which his attention had been called to them far more remote.[ ] [footnote : one copy of this reprint bears the name of w. wright, another that of thomas nelson. the full title is-- "newes from scotland, "declaring the damnable life of doctor fian, a notable sorcerer, who was burned at edenborough in januarie last, ; which doctor was register to the deuill, that sundrie times preached at north barricke kirke to a number of notorious witches; with the true examinations of the said doctor and witches as they uttered them in the presence of the scottish king: discouering how they pretended to bewitch and drowne his majestie in the sea, comming from denmarke, with such other wonderfull matters, as the like hath not bin heard at anie time. "published according to the scottish copie. "printed for william wright."] [footnote : these events are referred to in an existing letter by the notorious thos. phelippes to thos. barnes, cal. state papers (may , ), - , p. .] [footnote : such as paddock, graymalkin, and harpier.] [footnote : "liver of blaspheming jew," etc.--macbeth, iv. i. .] [footnote : "i will drain him dry as hay; sleep shall neither night nor day hang upon his pent-house lid; he shall live a man forbid: weary se'nnights, nine times nine, shall he dwindle, peak, and pine." macbeth, i. iii. - .] [footnote : the excitement about the details of the witch trials would culminate in . harsnet's book would be read by shakspere in .] . there is one other mode of temptation which was adopted by the evil spirits, implicated to a great extent with the traditions of witchcraft, but nevertheless more suitably handled as a separate subject, which is of so gross and revolting a nature that it should willingly be passed over in silence, were it not for the fact that the belief in it was, as scot says, "so stronglie and universallie received" in the times of elizabeth and james. from the very earliest period of the christian era the affection of one sex for the other was considered to be under the special control of the devil. marriage was to be tolerated; but celibacy was the state most conducive to the near intercourse with heaven that was so dearly sought after. this opinion was doubtless generated by the tendency of the early christian leaders to hold up the events of the life rather than the teachings of the sacred founder of the sect as the one rule of conduct to be received by his followers. to have been the recipients of the stigmata was a far greater evidence of holiness and favour with heaven than the quiet and unnoted daily practice of those virtues upon which christ pronounced his blessing; and in less improbable matters they did not scruple, in their enthusiasm, to attempt to establish a rule of life in direct contradiction to the laws of that universe of which they professed to believe him to be the creator. the futile attempt to imitate his immaculate purity blinded their eyes to the fact that he never taught or encouraged celibacy among his followers, and this gradually led them to the strange conclusion that the passion which, sublimed and brought under control, is the source of man's noblest and holiest feelings, was a prompting proceeding from the author of all evil. imbued with this idea, religious enthusiasts of both sexes immured themselves in convents; took oaths of perpetual celibacy; and even, in certain isolated cases, sought to compromise with heaven, and baffle the tempter, by rendering a fall impossible--forgetting that the victory over sin does not consist in immunity from temptation, but, being tempted, not to fall. but no convent walls are so strong as to shut great nature out; and even within these sacred precincts the ascetics found that they were not free from the temptations of their arch-enemy. in consequence of this, a belief sprang up, and spread from its original source into the outer world, in a class of devils called incubi and succubi, who roamed the earth with no other object than to tempt people to abandon their purity of life. the cases of assault by incubi were much more frequent than those by succubi, just as women were much more affected by the dancing manias in the fifteenth century than men;[ ]--the reason, perhaps, being that they are much less capable of resisting physical privation;--but, according to the belief of the middle ages, there was no generic difference between the incubus and succubus. here was a belief that, when the witch fury sprang up, attached itself as a matter of course as the phase of the crime; and it was an almost universal charge against the accused that they offended in this manner with their familiars, and hundreds of poor creatures suffered death upon such an indictment. more details will be found in the authorities upon this unpleasant subject.[ ] [footnote : hecker, epidemics of the middle ages, p. .] [footnote : hutchinson, p. . the witch of edmonton, act v. scot, discoverie, book iv.] . this intercourse did not, as a rule, result in offspring; but this was not universally the case. all badly deformed or monstrous children were suspected of having had such an undesirable parentage, and there was a great tendency to believe that they ought to be destroyed. luther was a decided advocate of this course, deeming the destruction of a life far preferable to the chance of having a devil in the family. in drayton's poem, "the mooncalf," one of the gossips present at the birth of the calf suggests that it ought to be buried alive as a monster.[ ] caliban is a mooncalf,[ ] and his origin is distinctly traced to a source of this description. it is perfectly clear what was the one thing that the foul witch sycorax did which prevented her life from being taken; and it would appear from this that the inhabitants of argier were far more merciful in this respect than their european neighbours. such a charge would have sent any woman to the stake in scotland, without the slightest hope of mercy, and the usual plea for respite would only have been an additional reason for hastening the execution of the sentence.[ ] [footnote : ed. , p. .] [footnote : tempest, ii. ii. , .] [footnote : cf. othello, i. i. . titus andronicus, iv. ii.] . in the preceding pages an endeavour has been made to delineate the most prominent features of a belief which the great reformation was destined first to foster into unnatural proportions and vitality, and in the end to destroy. up to the period of the reformation, the creed of the nation had been practically uniform, and one set of dogmas was unhesitatingly accepted by the people as infallible, and therefore hardly demanding critical consideration. the great upheaval of the sixteenth century rent this quiescent uniformity into shreds; doctrines until then considered as indisputable were brought within the pale of discussion, and hence there was a great diversity of opinion, not only between the supporters of the old and of the new faith, but between the reformers themselves. this was conspicuously the case with regard to the belief in the devils and their works. the more timid of the reformers clung in a great measure to the catholic opinions; a small band, under the influence possibly of that knight-errant of freedom of thought, giordano bruno, who exercised some considerable influence during his visit to england by means of his oxford lectures and disputations, entirely denied the existence of evil spirits; but the great majority gave in their adherence to a creed that was the mean between the doctrines of the old faith and the new scepticism. their strong common sense compelled them to reject the puerilities advanced as serious evidence by the catholic church; but they cast aside with equal vehemence and more horror the doctrines of the bruno school. "that there are devils," says bullinger, reduced apparently from argument to invective, "the sadducees in times past denied, and at this day also some scarce religious, nay, rather epicures, deny the same; who, unless they repent, shall one day feel, to their exceeding great pain and smart, both that there are devils, and that they are the tormentors and executioners of all wicked men and epicures."[ ] [footnote : bullinger, fourth decade, th sermon, p. , parker society.] . it must be remembered, too, that the emancipation from medievalism was a very gradual process, not, as we are too prone to think it, a revolution suddenly and completely effected. it was an evolution, not an explosion. there is found, in consequence, a great divergence of opinion, not only between the earliest and the later reformers, but between the statements of the same man at different periods of his career. tyndale, for instance, seems to have believed in the actual possession of the human body by devils;[ ] and this appears to have been the opinion of the majority at the beginning of the reformation, for the first prayer-book of edward vi. contained the catholic form of exorcism for driving devils out of children, which was expunged upon revision, the doctrine of obsession having in the mean time triumphed over the older belief. it is necessary to bear these facts in mind whilst considering any attempt to depict the general bearings of a belief such as that in evil spirits; for many irreconcilable statements are to be found among the authorities; and it is the duty of the writer to sift out and describe those views which predominated, and these must not be supposed to be proved inaccurate because a chance quotation can be produced in contradiction. [footnote : i tyndale, p. . parker society.] . there is great danger, in the attempt to bring under analysis any phase of religious belief, that the method of treatment may appear unsympathetic if not irreverent. the greatest effort has been made in these pages to avoid this fault as far as possible; for, without doubt, any form of religious dogma, however barbarous, however seemingly ridiculous, if it has once been sincerely believed and trusted by any portion of mankind, is entitled to reverent treatment. no body of great and good men can at any time credit and take comfort from a lie pure and simple; and if an extinct creed appears to lack that foundation of truth which makes creeds tolerable, it is safer to assume that it had a meaning and a truthfulness, to those who held it, that lapse of time has tended to destroy, together with the creed itself, than to condemn men wholesale as knaves and hypocrites. but the particular subject which has here been dealt with will surely be considered to be specially entitled to respect, when it is remembered that it was once an integral portion of the belief of most of our best and bravest ancestors--of men and women who dared to witness to their own sincerity amidst the fires of persecution and in the solitude of exile. it has nearly all disappeared now. the terrific hierarchy of fiends, which was so real, so full of horror three hundred years ago[ ], has gradually vanished away before the advent of fuller knowledge and purer faith, and is now hardly thought of, unless as a dead mediaeval myth. but let us deal tenderly with it, remembering that the day may come when the beliefs that are nearest to our hearts may be treated as open to contempt or ridicule, and the dogmas to which we most passionately cling will, "like an insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a wrack behind." [footnote : perhaps the following prayer, contained in thomas becon's "pomander," shows more clearly than the comments of any critic the reality of the terror:-- "an infinite number of wicked angels there are, o lord christ, which without ceasing seek my destruction. against this exceeding great multitude of evil spirits send thou me thy blessed and heavenly angels, which may deliver me from then tyranny. thou, o lord, hast devoured hell, and overcome the prince of darkness and all his ministers; yea, and that not for thyself, but for those that believe in thee. suffer me not, therefore, to be overcome of satan and of his servants, but rather let me triumph over them, that i, through strong faith and help of the blessed angels, having the victory of the hellish army, may with a joyful heart say, death, where is thy sting? hell, where is thy victory?--and so for ever and ever magnify thy holy name. amen." parker society, p. .] * * * * * . little attempt has hitherto been made, in the way of direct proof, to show that fairies are really only a class of devils who exercise their powers in a manner less terrible and revolting than that depicted by theologians; and for this reason chiefly--that the proposition is already more than half established when it has been shown that the attributes and functions possessed by both fairy and devil are similar in kind, although differing in degree. this has already been done to a great extent in the preceding pages, where the various actions of puck and ariel have been shown to differ in no essential respect from those of the devils of the time; but before commencing to study this phase of supernaturalism in shakspere's works as a whole, and as indicative, to a certain extent, of the development of his thought upon the relation of man to the invisible world about and above him, it is necessary that this identity should be admitted without a shadow of a doubt. . it has been shown that fairies were probably the descendants of the lesser local deities, as devils were of the more important of the heathen gods that were overturned by the advancing wave of christianity, although in the course of time this distinction was entirely obliterated and forgotten. it has also been shown, as before mentioned, that many of the powers exercised by fairies were in their essence similar to those exercised by devils, especially that of appearing in divers shapes. these parallels could be carried out to an almost unlimited extent; but a few proofs only need be cited to show this identity. in the mediaeval romance of "king orfeo" fairyland has been substituted for the classical hades.[ ] king james, in his "daemonologie," adopts a fourfold classification of devils, one of which he names "phairie," and co-ordinates with the incubus.[ ] the name of the devil supposed to preside at the witches' sabbaths is sometimes given as hecat, diana, sybilla; sometimes queen of elfame,[ ] or fairie.[ ] indeed, shakspere's line in "the comedy of errors," had it not been unnecessarily tampered with by the critics-- "a fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough,"[ ] would have conclusively proved this identity of character. [footnote : fairy mythology of shakspere, hazlitt, p. .] [footnote : daemonologie, p. . an instance of a fairy incubus is given in the "life of robin goodfellow," hazlitt's fairy mythology, p. .] [footnote : pitcairn, iii. p. .] [footnote : ibid. i. p. , and many other places.] [footnote : fairy has been altered to "fury," but compare peele, battle of alcazar: "fiends, fairies, hags that fight in beds of steel."] . the real distinction between these two classes of spirits depends on the condition of national thought upon the subject of supernaturalism in its largest sense. a belief which has little or no foundation upon indisputable phenomena must be continually passing through varying phases, and these phases will be regulated by the nature of the subjects upon which the attention of the mass of the people is most firmly concentrated. hence, when a nation has but one religious creed, and one that has for centuries been accepted by them, almost without question or doubt, faith becomes stereotyped, and the mind assumes an attitude of passive receptivity, undisturbed by doubts or questionings. under such conditions, a belief in evil spirits ever ready and watching to tempt a man into heresy of belief or sinful act, and thus to destroy both body and soul, although it may exist as a theoretic portion of the accepted creed, cannot possibly become a vital doctrine to be believed by the general public. it may exist as a subject for learned dispute to while away the leisure hours of divines, but cannot by any possibility obtain an influence over the thoughts and lives of their charges. mental disturbance on questions of doctrinal importance being, for these reasons, out of the question, the attention of the people is almost entirely riveted upon questions of material ease and advantage. the little lets and hindrances of every-day life in agricultural and domestic matters are the tribulations that appeal most incessantly to the ineradicable sense of an invisible power adverse to the interests of mankind, and consequently the class of evil spirits believed in at such a time will be fairies rather than devils--malicious little spirits, who blight the growing corn; stop the butter from forming in the churn; pinch the sluttish housemaid black and blue; and whose worst act is the exchange of the baby from its cot for a fairy changeling;--beings of a nature most exasperating to thrifty housewife and hard-handed farmer, but nevertheless not irrevocably prejudiced against humanity, and easily to be pacified and reduced into a state of fawning friendship by such little attentions as could be rendered without difficulty by the poorest cotter. the whole fairy mythology is perfumed with an honest, healthy, careless joy in life, and a freedom from mental doubt. "i love true lovers, honest men, good fellowes, good huswives, good meate, good drinke, and all things that good is, but nothing that is ill," declares robin goodfellow;[ ] and this jovial materialism only reflects the state of mind of the folk who were not unwilling to believe that this lively little spirit might be seen of nights busying himself in their houses by the dying embers of the deserted fire. [footnote : hazlitt, fairy mythology, p. .] . such seems to have been the condition of england immediately before the period of the great reformation. but with the progress of that revolution of thought the condition changes. the one true and eternal creed, as it had been deemed, is shattered for ever. men who have hitherto accepted their religious convictions in much the same way as they had succeeded to their patrimonies are compelled by this tide of opposition to think and study for themselves. each man finds himself left face to face with the great hereafter, and his relation to it. terrible doctrines are formulated, and press themselves with remorseless vigour upon his understanding--original sin, justification by faith, eternal damnation for even honest error of belief,--doctrines that throw an atmosphere of solemnity, if not gloom, about national thought, in which no fairy mythology can flourish. it is no longer questions of material ease and gain that are of the chief concern; and consequently the fairies and their doings, from their own triviality, fall far into the background, and their place is occupied by a countless horde of remorseless schemers, who are never ceasing in their efforts to drag both body and soul to perdition. . but it is in the towns, the centres of interchange of thought, of learning, and of controversy, that this revolution first gathers power; the sparsely populated country-sides are far more impervious to the new ideas, and the country people cling far longer and more tenaciously to the dying religion and its attendant beliefs. the rural districts were but little affected by the reformation for years after it had triumphed in the towns, and consequently the beliefs of the inhabitants were hardly touched by the struggle that was going on within so short a distance. we find a reginald scot, indeed, complaining, half in joke, half in sarcasm, that robin goodfellow has long disappeared from the land;[ ] but it is only from the towns that he has fled--towns in which the spirit of the cartwrights and the latimers, the barnhams and the delabers, is abroad. in the same cambridge where scot had been educated, a young student had hanged himself because the shadow of the doctrine of predestination was too terrible for him to live under;[ ] and such a place was surely no home for puck and his merry band. but in the country places, remote from the growl and trembling of this mental earthquake, he still loved to lurk; and even at the very moment when scot was penning the denial of his existence, he was nestling amongst the woods and flowers of avonside, and, invisible, whispering in the ear of a certain fair-haired youth there thoughts of no inconsiderable moment. and long time after that--after the youth had become a man, and had coined those thoughts into words that glitter still; after his monument had been erected in the quiet stratford churchyard--puck revelled, harmless and undisturbed, along many a country-side; nay, even to the present day, in some old-world nooks, a faint whispering rumour of him may still be heard. [footnote : scot, introduction.] [footnote : foxe, iv. p. .] . now, perhaps one of the most distinctive marks of literary genius is a certain receptivity of mind; a capability of receiving impressions from all surrounding circumstance--of extracting from all sources, whether from nature or man, consciously or unconsciously, the material upon which it shall work. for this process to be perfectly accomplished, an entire and enthusiastic sympathy with man and the current ideas of the time is absolutely essential, and in proportion as this sympathy is contracted and partial, so will the work produced be stunted and untrue; and, on the other hand, the more universal and entire it is, the more perfect and vital will be the art. bearing this in mind, and also the facts that shakspere's early training was effected in a little country village; that upon the verge of manhood, he came to london, where he spent his prime in contact with the bustle and friction of busy town life; and that the later years of his life were passed in the quiet retirement of the home of his boyhood--there would be good ground for an argument, _a priori_, even were there none of a more conclusive nature, that his earlier works would be found impregnated with the country fairy-myths with which his youth would come in contact; that the result of the labours of his middle life would show that these earlier reminiscenses had been gradually obliterated by the gloomier influence of ideas that were the result of the struggle of opposed theories that had not then ceased to rage in the towns, and that the diabolic element and questions relating thereto would predominate; and that, finally, his later works, written under the calmer influence of stratford life, would show a certain return to the fairy-lore of his earlier years. . but fortunately we are not left to rely upon any such hypothetical evidence in this matter, however probable it may appear. although the general reading public cannot be asked to accept as infallible any chronological order of shakspere's plays that dogmatically asserts a particular sequence, or to investigate the somewhat dry and specialist arguments upon which the conclusions are founded, yet there are certain groupings into periods which are agreed upon as accurate by nearly all critics, and which, without the slightest danger of error, may be asserted to be correct. for instance, it is indisputable that "love's labour's lost," "the comedy of errors," "romeo and juliet," and "a midsummer night's dream" are amongst shakspere's earliest works; that the tragedies of "julius caesar," "hamlet," "othello," "macbeth," and "lear" are the productions of his middle life, between and ; and that "a winter's tale" and "the tempest" are amongst the latest plays which he wrote.[ ] here we have everything that is required to prove the question in hand. at the commencement and at the end of his writings--when a youth fresh from the influence of his country nurture and education, and when a mature man, settling down into the old life again after a long and victorious struggle with the world, with his accumulated store of experience--we find plays which are perfectly saturated with fairy-lore: "the dream" and "the tempest." these are the poles of shakspere's thought in this respect; and in the centre, imbedded as it were between two layers of material that do not bear any distinctive stamp of their own, but appear rather as a medium for uniting the diverse strata, lie the great tragedies, produced while he was in the very rush and swirl of town life, and reflecting accurately, as we have seen, many of the doubts and speculations that were agitating the minds of men who were ardently searching out truth. it is worth noting too, in passing, that directly shakspere steps out of his beaten path to depict, in "the merry wives of windsor," the happy country life and manners of his day, he at the same time returns to fairyland again, and brings out the windsor children trooping to pinch and plague the town-bred, tainted falstaff. [footnote : for an elaborate and masterly investigation of the question of the chronological order of the plays, which must be assumed here, see mr. furnivall's introduction to the leopold shakspere.] . but this is not by any means all that this subject reveals to us about shakspere; if it were, the less said about it the better. to look upon "the tempest" as in its essence merely a return to "the dream"--the end as the beginning; to believe that his thoughts worked in a weary, unending circle--that the valley of the shadow of death only leads back to the foot of the hill difficulty--is intolerable, and not more intolerable than false. although based upon similar material, the ideas and tendencies of "the tempest" upon supernaturalism are no more identical with those of "a midsummer night's dream" than the thoughts of berowne upon things in general are those of hamlet, or hamlet's those of prospero. but before it is possible to point out the nature of this difference, and to show that the change is a natural growth of thought, not a mere retrogression, a few explanatory remarks are necessary. there is no more insufficient and misleading view of shakspere and his work than that which until recently obtained almost universal credence, and is even at the present time somewhat loudly asserted in some quarters; namely, that he was a man of considerable genius, who wrote and got acted some thirty plays more or less, simply for commercial purposes and nothing more; made money thereby, and died leaving a will; and that, beyond this, he and his works are, and must remain, an inexplicable mystery. the critic who holds this view, and finds it equally advantageous to commence a study of shakspere's work by taking "the tempest" or "love's labour's lost" as his text, is about as judicious as the botanist who would enlarge upon the structure of the seed-pod without first explaining the preliminary stages of plant growth, or the architect who would dilate upon the most convenient arrangement of chimney-pots before he had discussed the laws of foundation. the plays may be studied separately, and studied so are found beautiful; but taken in an approximate chronological order, like a string of brilliant jewels, each one gains lustre from those that precede and follow it. . for no man ever wrote sincerely and earnestly, or indeed ever did any one thing in such a spirit, without leaving some impress upon his work of his mental condition whilst he was doing it; and no such man ever continued his literary labours from the period of youth right through his manhood, without leaving behind him, in more or less legible character, a record of the ripening of his thought upon matters of eternal importance, although they may not be of necessity directly connected with the ostensible subject in hand. insincere men may ape sentiments they do not really believe in; but in the end they will either be exposed and held up to ridicule, or their work will sink into obscurity. sincerity in the expression of genuine thought and feeling alone can stand the test of time. and this is in reality no contradiction to what has just been said as to the necessity of a receptive condition of mind in the production of works of true genius. this capacity of receiving the most delicate objective impressions is, indeed, one essential; but without the cognate power to assimilate this food, and evolve the result that these influences have produced subjectively, it is, worse than useless. the two must co-exist and act and react upon one another. nor must we be induced to surrender these principles, in the present particular case, on account of the usual fine but vague talk about shakspere's absolute self-annihilation in favour of the characters that he depicts. it is said that shakspere so identifies himself with each person in his dramas, that it is impossible to detect the great master and his thoughts behind this cunningly devised screen. if this means that shakespere has always a perfect comprehension of his characters, is competent to measure out to each absolute and unerring justice, and is capable of sympathy with even the most repulsive, it will not be disputed for an instant. it is so true, that it is dangerous to take a sentence out of the mouth of any one of his characters and say for certain, "this shakspere thought," although there are many characters with whom every one must feel that shakspere identified himself for the time being rather than others. but if it is intended to assert that shakspere has so eliminated himself from his writings as to make it impossible to trace anywhere the tendencies of his own thought at the time when he was writing, it must be most emphatically denied for the reasons just stated. freedom from prejudice must be carefully dissociated from lack of interest in the motive that underlies the construction of each play. there is a tone or key-note in each drama that indicates the author's mental condition at the time when it was produced; and if several plays, following each other in brisk succession, all have the same predominant tone, it seems to be past question that shakspere is incidentally and indirectly uttering his own personal thought and experience. . if it be granted, then, that it is possible to follow thus the growth of shakspere's thought through the medium of his successive works, there is only one small point to be glanced at before attempting to trace this growth in the matter of supernaturalism. the natural history of the evolution of opinion upon matters which, for want of a more embracing and satisfactory word, we must be content to call "religious," follows a uniform course in the minds of all men, except those "duller than the fat weed that roots itself at ease on lethe's wharf," who never get beyond the primary stage. this course is separable into three periods. the first is that in which a man accepts unhesitatingly the doctrines which he has received from his spiritual teachers--customary not intellectual, belief. this sits lightly on him; entails no troublesome doubts and questionings; possesses, or appears to possess, formulae to meet all possible emergencies, and consequently brings with it a happiness that is genuine, though superficial. but this customary belief rarely satisfies for long. contact with the world brings to light other and opposed theories: introspection and independent investigation of the bases of the hereditary faith are commenced; many doctrines that have been hitherto accepted as eternally and indisputably true are found to rest upon but slight foundation, apart from their title to respect on account of age; doubts follow as to the claim to acceptance of the whole system that has been so easily and unhesitatingly swallowed; and the period of scepticism, or no-belief, with its attendant misery, commences--for although dagon has been but little honoured in the time of his strength, in his downfall he is much regretted. then comes that long, weary groping after some firm, reliable basis of belief: but heaven and earth appear for the time to conspire against the seeker; an intellectual flood has drowned out the old order of things; not even a mountain peak appears in the wide waste of desolation as assurance of ultimate rest; and in the dark, overhanging firmament no arc of promise is to be seen. but this is a state of mind which, from its very nature, cannot continue for ever: no man could endure it. while it lasts the struggle must be continuous, but somewhere through the cloud lies the sunshine and the land of peace--the final period of intellectual belief. out of the chaos comes order; ideas that but recently appeared confused, incoherent, and meaningless assume their true perspective. it is found that all the strands of the old conventional faith have not been snapped in the turmoil; and these, re-knit and strengthened with the new and full knowledge of experience and investigation, form the cable that secures that strange holy confidence of belief that can only be gained by a preliminary warfare with doubt--a peace that truly passes all understanding to those who have never battled for it,--as to its foundation, diverse to a miracle in diverse minds, but still, a peace. . if this be a true history of the course of development of every mind that is capable of independent thought upon and investigation of such high matters, it follows that shakspere's soul must have experienced a similar struggle--for he was a man of like passions with ourselves; indeed, to so acute and sensitive a mind the struggle would be, probably, more prolonged and more agonizing than to many; and it is these three mental conditions--first, of unthinking acceptance of generally received teaching; second, of profound and agitating scepticism; and, thirdly, of belief founded upon reason and experience--that may be naturally expected to be found impressed upon his early, middle, and later works. . it is impossible here to do more than indicate some of the evidence that this supposition is correct, for to attempt to investigate the question exhaustively would involve the minute consideration of a majority of the plays. the period of shakspere's customary or conventional belief is illustrated in "a midsummer night's dream," and to a certain extent also in the "comedy of errors." in the former play we find him loyally accepting certain phases of the hereditary stratford belief in supernaturalism, throwing them into poetical form, and making them beautiful. it has often before been observed, and it is well worthy of observation, that of the three groups of characters in the play, the country folk--a class whose manner and appearance had most vividly reflected themselves upon the camera of shakspere's mind--are by far the most lifelike and distinct; the fairies, who had been the companions of his childhood and youth in countless talks in the ingle and ballads in the lanes, come second in prominence and finish; whilst the ostensible heroes and heroines of the piece, the aristocrats of athens, are colourless and uninteresting as a dumb-show--the real shadows of the play. this is exactly the ratio of impressionability that the three classes would have for the mind of the youthful dramatist. the first is a creation from life, the second from traditionary belief, the third from hearsay. and when it has been said that the fairies are a creation from traditionary belief, a full and accurate description of them has been afforded. they are an embodiment of a popular superstition, and nothing more. they do not conceal any thought of the poet who has created them, nor are they used for any deeper purpose with regard to the other persons of the drama than temporary and objectless annoyance. throughout the whole play runs a healthy, thoughtless, honest, almost riotous happiness; no note of difficulty, no shadow of coming doubt being perceptible. the pert and nimble spirit of mirth is fully awakened; the worst tricks of the intermeddling spirits are mischievous merely, and of only transitory influence, and "the summer still doth tend upon their state," brightening this fairyland with its sunshine and flowers. man has absolutely no power to govern these supernatural powers, and they have but unimportant influence over him. they can affect his comfort, but they cannot control his fate. but all this is merely an adapting and elaborating of ideas which had been handed down from father to son for many generations. shakspere's puck is only the puck of a hundred ballads reproduced by the hand of a true poet; no original thought upon the connection of the visible with the invisible world is imported into the creation. all these facts tend to show that when shakspere wrote "a midsummer night's dream," that is, at the beginning of his career as a dramatic author, he had not broken away from the trammels of the beliefs in which he had been brought up, but accepted them unhesitatingly and joyously. . but there is a gradual toning down of this spirit of unbroken content as time wears on. putting aside the historical plays, in which shakspere was much more bound down by his subject-matter than in any other species of drama, we find the comedies, in which his room for expression of individual feeling was practically unlimited, gradually losing their unalloyed hilarity, and deepening down into a sadness of thought and expression that sometimes leaves a doubt whether the plays should be classed as comedies at all. shakspere has been more and more in contact with the disputes and doubts of the educated men of his time, and seeds have been silently sowing themselves in his heart, which are soon to bring forth a plenteous harvest in the great tragedies of which these semi-comedies, such as "all's well that ends well" and "measure for measure," are but the first-fruits. . thus, when next we find shakspere dealing with questions relating to supernaturalism, the tone is quite different from that taken in his earlier work. he has reached the second period of his thought upon the subject, and this has cast its attendant gloom upon his writings. that he was actually battling with questions current in his time is demonstrated by the way in which, in three consecutive plays, derived from utterly diverse sources, the same question of ghost or devil is agitated, as has before been pointed out. but it is not merely a point of theological dogma which stamps these plays as the product of shakspere's period of scepticism, but a theory of the influence of supernatural beings upon the whole course of human life. man is still incapable of influencing these unseen forces, or bending them to his will; but they are now no longer harmless, or incapable of anything but temporary or trivial evil. puck might lead night wanderers into mischance, and laugh mischievously at the bodily harm that he had caused them; but puck has now disappeared, and in his stead is found a malignant spirit, who seeks to laugh his fiendish laughter over the soul he has deceived into destruction. questions arise thick and fast that are easier put than answered. can it be that evil influences have the upper hand in this world? that, be a man never so honest, never so pure, he may nevertheless become the sport of blind chance or ruthless wickedness? may a hamlet, patiently struggling after truth and duty, be put upon and abused by the darker powers? may macbeth, who would fain do right, were not evil so ever present with him, be juggled with and led to destruction by fiends? may an undistinguishing fate sweep away at once the good with the evil--hamlet with laertes; desdemona with iago; cordelia with edmund? and above the turmoil of this reign of terror, is there no word uttered of a supreme good guiding and controlling the unloosed ill--no word of encouragement, none of hope? if this be so indeed, that man is but the puppet of malignant spirits, away with this life. it is not worth the living; for what power has man against the fiends? but at this point arises a further question to demand solution: what shall be hereafter? if evil is supreme here, shall it not be so in that undiscovered country,--that life to come? the dreams that may come give him pause, and he either shuffles on, doubting, hesitating, and incapable of decision, or he hurls himself wildly against his fate. in either case his life becomes like to a tale "told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying--nothing!" . it is strange to note, too, how the ebb of this wave of scepticism upon questions relating to the immaterial world is only recoil that adds force to a succeeding wave of cynicism with regard to the physical world around. "hamlet," "macbeth," and "othello" give place to "lear," "troilus and cressida," "antony and cleopatra," and "timon." so true is it that "unfaith in aught is want of faith in all," that in these later plays it would seem that honour, honesty, and justice were virtues not possessed by man or woman; or, if possessed, were only a curse to bring down disgrace and destruction upon the possessor. contrast the women of these plays with those of the comedies immediately preceding the hamlet period. in the latter plays we find the heroines, by their sweet womanly guidance and gentle but firm control, triumphantly bringing good out of evil in spite of adverse circumstance. beatrice, rosalind, viola, helena, and isabella are all, not without a tinge of knight-errantry that does not do the least violence to the conception of tender, delicate womanhood, the good geniuses of the little worlds in which their influence is made to be felt. events must inevitably have gone tragically but for their intervention. but with the advent of the second period all this changes. at first the women, like brutus' portia, ophelia, desdemona, however noble or sweet in character and well meaning in motive, are incapable of grasping the guiding threads of the events around them and controlling them for good. they have to give way to characters of another kind, who bear the form without the nature of women. commencing with lady macbeth, the conception falls lower and lower, through goneril and regan, cressida, cleopatra, until in the climax of this utter despair, "timon," there is no character that it would not be a profanity to call by the name of woman. . and just as womanly purity and innocence quail before unwomanly self-assertion and voluptuousness, so manly loyalty and unselfishness give way before unmanly treachery and self-seeking. it is true that the bad men do not finally triumph, but they triumph over the good with whom they happen to come in contact. in "king lear," what man shows any virtue who does not receive punishment for the same? not gloucester, whose loyal devotion to his king obtains for him a punishment that is only merciful in that it prevents him from further suffering the sight of his beloved master's misery; not kent, who, faithful in his self-denying service through all manner of obloquy, is left at last with a prayer that he may be allowed to follow lear to the grave; and beyond these two there is little good to be found. but "lear" is not by any means the climax. the utter despair of good in man or woman rises higher in "troilus and cressida," and reaches its culminating point in "timon," a fragment only of which is shakspere's. the pen fell from the tired hand; the worn and distracted brain refused to fulfil the task of depicting the depth to which the poet's estimate of mankind had fallen; and we hardly know whether to rejoice or to regret that the clumsy hand of an inferior writer has screened from our knowledge the full disclosure of the utter and contemptuous cynicism and want of faith with which, for the time being, shakspere was infected. . before passing on to consider the plays of the third period as evidence of shakspere's final thought, it will be well to pause and re-read with attention a summing-up of shakspere's teaching as it has been presented to us by one of the greatest and most earnest teachers of morality of the present day. every word that mr. ruskin writes is so evidently from the depth of his own good heart, and every doctrine that he enunciates so pure in theory and so true in practice, that a difference with him upon the final teaching of shakspere's work cannot be too cautiously expressed. but the estimate of this which he has given in the third lecture of "sesame and lilies"[ ] is so painful, if regarded as shakspere's latest and most mature opinion, that everybody, even mr. ruskin himself, would be glad to modify its gloom with a few rays of hope, if it were possible to do so. "what then," says mr. ruskin, "is the message to us of our own poet and searcher of hearts, after fifteen hundred years of christian faith have been numbered over the graves of men? are his words more cheerful than the heathen's (homer)? is his hope more near, his trust more sure, his reading of fate more happy? ah no! he differs from the heathen poet chiefly in this, that he recognizes for deliverance no gods nigh at hand, and that, by petty chance, by momentary folly, by broken message, by fool's tyranny, or traitor's snare, the strongest and most righteous are brought to their ruin, and perish without word of hope. he, indeed, as part of his rendering of character, ascribes the power and modesty of habitual devotion to the gentle and the just. the death-bed of katharine is bright with visions of angels; and the great soldier-king, standing by his few dead, acknowledges the presence of the hand that can save alike by many or by few. but observe that from those who with deepest spirit meditate, and with deepest passion mourn, there are no such words as these; nor in their hearts are any such consolations. instead of the perpetual sense of the helpful presence of the deity, which, through all heathen tradition, is the source of heroic strength, in battle, in exile, and in the valley of the shadow of death, we find only in the great christian poet the consciousness of a moral law, through which 'the gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to scourge us;' and of the resolved arbitration of the destinies, that conclude into precision of doom what we feebly and blindly began; and force us, when our indiscretion serves us, and our deepest plots do pall, to the confession that 'there's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.'"[ ] [footnote : rd edition, § .] [footnote : mr. ruskin has analyzed "the tempest," in "munera pulveris," § , et seqq., but from another point of view.] . now, it is perfectly clear that this criticism was written with two or three plays, all belonging to one period, very conspicuously before the mind. of the illustrative exceptions that are made to the general rule, one is derived from a play which shakspere wrote at a very early date, and the other from a scene which he almost certainly never wrote at all; the whole of the rest of the passage quoted is founded upon "hamlet," "macbeth," "othello," and "lear"--that is, upon the earlier productions of what we must call shakspere's sceptical period. but these plays represent an essentially transient state of thought. shakspere was to learn and to teach that those who most deeply meditate and most passionately mourn are not the men of noblest or most influential character--that such may command our sympathy, but hardly our respect or admiration. still less did shakspere finally assert, although for a time he believed, that a blind destiny concludes into precision what we feebly and blindly begin. far otherwise and nobler was his conception of man and his mission, and the unseen powers and their influences, in the third and final stage of his thought. . had shakspere lived longer, he would doubtless have left us a series of plays filled with the bright and reassuring tenderness and confidence of this third period, as long and as brilliant in execution as those of the second period. but as it is we are in possession of quite enough material to enable us to form accurate conclusions upon the state of his final thought. it is upon "the tempest" that we must in the main rely for an exposition of this; for though the other plays and fragments fully exhibit the restoration of his faith in man and woman, which was a necessary concurrence with his return from scepticism, yet it is in "the tempest" that he brings himself as nearly face to face as dramatic possibilities would allow him with circumstances that admit of the indirect expression of such thought. it is fortunate, too, for the purpose of comparing shakspere's earliest and latest opinions, that the characters of "the tempest" are divisible into the same groups as those of "the dream." the gross _canaille_ are represented, but now no longer the most accurate in colour and most absorbing in interest of the characters of the play, or unessential to the evolution of the plot. they have a distinct importance in the movement of the piece, and represent the unintelligent, material resistance to the work of regeneration that prospero seeks to carry out, and which must be controlled by him, just as sebastian and antonio form the intelligent, designing resistance. the spirit world is there too, but they, like the former class, have no independent plot of their own, and no independent operation against mankind; they only represent the invisible forces over which prospero must assert control if he would insure success for his schemes. ariel is, perhaps, one of the most extraordinary of all shakspere's creations. he is, indeed, formed upon a basis half fairy, half devil, because it was only through the current notions upon demonology that shakspere could speak his ideas. but he certainly is not a fairy in the sense that puck is a fairy; and he is very far indeed from bearing even a slight resemblance to the familiars whom the magicians of the time professed to call from the vasty deep. he is indeed but air, as prospero says--the embodiment of an idea, the representative of those invisible forces which operate as factors in the shaping of events which, ignored, may prove resistant or fatal, but, properly controlled and guided, work for good.[ ] lastly, there are the heroes and heroine of the play, now no longer shadows, but the centres of interest and admiration, and assuming their due position and prominence. [footnote : it is difficult to accept mr. ruskin's view of ariel as "the spirit of generous and free-hearted service" (mun. pul. § ); he is throughout the play the more-than-half-unwilling agent of prospero.] . it is probable, therefore, that it is not merely a student's fancy that in prospero's storm-girt, spirit-haunted island can be seen shakspere's final and matured image of the mighty world. if this be so, how far more bright and hopeful it is than the verdict which mr. ruskin finds shakspere to have returned. man is no longer "a pipe for fortune's fingers to sound what stop she please." the evil elements still exist in the world, and are numerous and formidable; but man, by nobleness of life and word, by patience and self-mastery, can master them, bring them into subjection, and make them tend to eventual good. caliban, the gross, sensual, earthly element--though somewhat raised--would run riot, and is therefore compelled to menial service. the brute force of stephano and trinculo is vanquished by mental superiority. even the supermundane spirits, now no longer thirsting for the destruction of body and soul, are bound down to the work of carrying out the decrees of truth and justice. man is no longer the plaything, but the master of his fate; and he, seeing now the possible triumph of good over evil, and his duty to do his best in aid of this triumph, has no more fear of the dreams--the something after death. our little life is still rounded by a sleep, but the thought which terrifies hamlet has no power to affright prospero. the hereafter is still a mystery, it is true; he has tried to see into it, and has found it impenetrable. but revelation has come like an angel, with peace upon its wings, in another and an unexpected way. duty lies here, in and around him in this world. here he can right wrong, succour the weak, abase the proud, do something to make the world better than he found it; and in the performance of this he finds a holier calm than the vain strivings after the unknowable could ever afford. let him work while it is day, for "the night cometh, when no man can work." . it is not a piece of pure sentimentality that sees in prospero a type of shakspere in his final stage of thought. it is a type altogether as it should be; and it is pleasing to think of him, in the full maturity of his manhood, wrapping his seer's cloak about him, and, while waiting calmly the unfolding of the mystery which he has sought in vain to solve, watching with noble benevolence the gradual working out of truth, order, and justice. it is pleasing to think of him as speaking to the world the great christian doctrine so universally overlooked by christians, that the only remedy for sin demanded by eternal justice "is nothing but heart's sorrow, and a clear life ensuing"--a speech which, though uttered by ariel, is spoken by prospero, who himself beautifully iterates part of the doctrine when he says-- "the rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, the sole drift of my purpose doth extend not a frown further."[ ] it is pleasant to dwell upon his sympathy with ferdinand and miranda--for the love of man and woman is pure and holy in this regenerate world: no more of troilus and cressida--upon his patient waiting for the evolution of his schemes; upon his faith in their ultimate success; and, above all, upon the majestic and unaffected reverence that appears indirectly in every line--"reverence," to adapt the words of the great teacher whose opinion about shakspere has been perhaps too rashly questioned, "for what is pure and bright in youth; for what is true and tried in age; for all that is gracious among the living, great among the dead, and marvellous in the powers that cannot die." [footnote : v. l. .] transcribed from the longmans, green and co. edition by david price, email ccx @coventry.ac.uk john knox and the reformation [john knox. from a posthumous portrait. beza's icones, : knox .jpg] to maurice hewlett preface in this brief life of knox i have tried, as much as i may, to get behind tradition, which has so deeply affected even modern histories of the scottish reformation, and even recent biographies of the reformer. the tradition is based, to a great extent, on knox's own "history," which i am therefore obliged to criticise as carefully as i can. in his valuable john knox, a biography, professor hume brown says that in the "history" "we have convincing proof alike of the writer's good faith, and of his perception of the conditions of historic truth." my reasons for dissenting from this favourable view will be found in the following pages. if i am right, if knox, both as a politician and an historian, resembled charles i. in "sailing as near the wind" as he could, the circumstance (as another of his biographers remarks) "only makes him more human and interesting." opinion about knox and the religious revolution in which he took so great a part, has passed through several variations in the last century. in the edinburgh review of (no. liii. pp. - ), is an article with which the present biographer can agree. several passages from knox's works are cited, and the reader is expected to be "shocked at their principles." they are certainly shocking, but they are not, as a rule, set before the public by biographers of the reformer. mr. carlyle introduced a style of thinking about knox which may be called platonically puritan. sweet enthusiasts glide swiftly over all in the reformer that is specially distasteful to us. i find myself more in harmony with the outspoken hallam, dr. joseph robertson, david hume, and the edinburgh reviewer of , than with several more recent students of knox. "the reformer's violent counsels and intemperate speech were remarkable," writes dr. robertson, "even in his own ruthless age," and he gives fourteen examples. { a} "lord hailes has shown," he adds, "how little knox's statements" (in his "history") "are to be relied on even in matters which were within the reformer's own knowledge." in scotland there has always been the party of cavalier and white rose sentimentalism. to this party queen mary is a saintly being, and their admiration of claverhouse goes far beyond that entertained by sir walter scott. on the other side, there is the party, equally sentimental, which musters under the banner of the covenant, and sees scarcely a blemish in knox. a pretty sample of the sentiment of this party appears in a biography ( ) of the reformer by a minister of the gospel. knox summoned the organised brethren, in , to overawe justice, when some men were to be tried on a charge of invading in arms the chapel of holyrood. no proceeding could be more anarchic than knox's, or more in accordance with the lovable customs of my dear country, at that time. but the biographer of , "a placed minister," writes that "the doing of it" (knox's summons) "was only an assertion of the liberty of the church, and of the members of the commonwealth as a whole, to assemble for purposes which were clearly lawful"--the purposes being to overawe justice in the course of a trial! on sentiment, cavalier or puritan, reason is thrown away. i have been surprised to find how completely a study of knox's own works corroborates the views of dr. robertson and lord hailes. that knox ran so very far ahead of the genevan pontiffs of his age in violence; and that in his "history" he needs such careful watching, was, to me, an unexpected discovery. he may have been "an old hebrew prophet," as mr. carlyle says, but he had also been a young scottish notary! a hebrew prophet is, at best, a dangerous anachronism in a delicate crisis of the church christian; and the notarial element is too conspicuous in some passages of knox's "history." that knox was a great man; a disinterested man; in his regard for the poor a truly christian man; as a shepherd of calvinistic souls a man fervent and considerate; of pure life; in friendship loyal; by jealousy untainted; in private character genial and amiable, i am entirely convinced. in public and political life he was much less admirable; and his "history," vivacious as it is, must be studied as the work of an old- fashioned advocate rather than as the summing up of a judge. his favourite adjectives are "bloody," "beastly," "rotten," and "stinking." any inaccuracies of my own which may have escaped my correction will be dwelt on, by enthusiasts for the prophet, as if they are the main elements of this book, and disqualify me as a critic of knox's "history." at least any such errors on my part are involuntary and unconscious. in knox's defence we must remember that he never saw his "history" in print. but he kept it by him for many years, obviously re-reading, for he certainly retouched it, as late as . in quoting knox and his contemporaries, i have used modern spelling: the letter from the state papers printed on pp. , , shows what the orthography of the period was really like. consultation of the original mss. on doubtful points, proves that the printed calendars, though excellent guides, cannot be relied on as authorities. the portrait of knox, from beza's book of portraits of reformers, is posthumous, but is probably a good likeness drawn from memory, after a description by peter young, who knew him, and a design, presumably by "adrianc vaensoun," a fleming, resident in edinburgh. { b} there is an interesting portrait, possibly of knox, in the national gallery of portraits, but the work has no known authentic history. the portrait of queen mary, at the age of thirty-six, and a prisoner, is from the earl of morton's original; it is greatly superior to the "sheffield" type of likenesses, of about ; and, with janet's and other drawings ( - ), the bridal medal of , and (in my opinion) the earl of leven and melville's portrait, of about - , is the best extant representation of the queen. the leven and melville portrait of mary, young and charming, and wearing jewels which are found recorded in her inventories, has hitherto been overlooked. an admirable photogravure is given in mr. j. j. foster's "true portraiture of mary, queen of scots" ( ), and i understand that a photograph was done in for the south kensington museum. a. lang. gibson place, st. andrews. chapter i: ancestry, birth, education, environment: (?)- "november , . "john knox, minister, deceased, who had, as was alleged, the most part of the blame of all the sorrows of scotland since the slaughter of the late cardinal." it is thus that the decent burgess who, in , kept the diurnal of such daily events as he deemed important, cautiously records the death of the great scottish reformer. the sorrows, the "cumber" of which knox was "alleged" to bear the blame, did not end with his death. they persisted in the conspiracies and rebellions of the earlier years of james vi.; they smouldered through the later part of his time; they broke into far spreading flame at the touch of the covenant; they blazed at "dark worcester and bloody dunbar"; at preston fight, and the sack of dundee by monk; they included the cromwellian conquest of scotland, and the shame and misery of the restoration; to trace them down to our own age would be invidious. it is with the "alleged" author of the sorrows, with his life, works, and ideas that we are concerned. john knox, son of william knox and of --- sinclair, his wife, { a} unlike most scotsmen, unlike even mr. carlyle, had not "an ell of pedigree." the common scoff was that each scot styled himself "the king's poor cousin." but john knox declared, "i am a man of base estate and condition." { b} the genealogy of mr. carlyle has been traced to a date behind the norman conquest, but of knox's ancestors nothing is known. he himself, in , when he "ruled the roast" in scotland, told the ruffian earl of bothwell, "my grandfather, my maternal grandfather, and my father, have served your lordship's predecessors, and some of them have died under their standards; and this" (namely goodwill to the house of the feudal superior) "is a part of the obligation of our scottish kindness." knox, indeed, never writes very harshly of bothwell, partly for the reason he gives; partly, perhaps, because bothwell, though an infamous character, and a political opponent, was not in - "an idolater," that is, a catholic: if ever he had been one; partly because his "history" ends before bothwell's murder of darnley in . knox's ancestors were, we may suppose, peasant farmers, like the ancestors of burns and hogg; and knox, though he married a maid of the queen's kin, bore traces of his descent. "a man ungrateful and unpleasable," northumberland styled him: he was one who could not "smiling, put a question by"; if he had to remonstrate even with a person whom it was desirable to conciliate, he stated his case in the plainest and least flattering terms. "of nature i am churlish, and in conditions different from many," he wrote; but this side of his character he kept mainly for people of high rank, accustomed to deference, and indifferent or hostile to his aims. to others, especially to women whom he liked, he was considerate and courteous, but any assertion of social superiority aroused his wakeful independence. his countrymen of his own order had long displayed these peculiarities of humour. the small scottish cultivators from whose ranks knox rose, appear, even before his age, in two strangely different lights. if they were not technically "kindly tenants," in which case their conditions of existence and of tenure were comparatively comfortable and secure, they were liable to eviction at the will of the lord, and, to quote an account of their condition written in , "were in more servitude than the children of israel in egypt." henderson, the writer of whom we have quoted, hopes that the agricultural class may yet live "as substantial commoners, not miserable cottars, charged daily to war and slay their neighbours _at their own expense_," as under the standards of the unruly bothwell house. this henderson was one of the political observers who, before the scottish reformation, hoped for a secure union between scotland and england, in place of the old and romantic league with france. that alliance had, indeed, enabled both france and scotland to maintain their national independence. but, with the great revolution in religion, the interest of scotland was a permanent political league with england, which knox did as much as any man to forward, while, by resisting a religious union, he left the seeds of many sorrows. if the lowland peasantry, from one point of view, were terribly oppressed, we know that they were of independent manners. in the chaplain of margaret tudor, the queen mother, writes to one adam williamson: "you know the use of this country. every man speaks what he will without blame. the man hath more words than the master, and will not be content unless he knows the master's counsel. there is no order among us." thus, two hundred and fifty years before burns, the lowland scot was minded that "a man's a man for a' that!" knox was the true flower of this vigorous lowland thistle. throughout life he not only "spoke what he would," but uttered "the truth" in such a tone as to make it unlikely that his "message" should be accepted by opponents. like carlyle, however, he had a heart rich in affection, no breach in friendship, he says, ever began on his side; while, as "a good hater," dr. johnson might have admired him. he carried into political and theological conflicts the stubborn temper of the border prickers, his fathers, who had ridden under the roses and the lion of the hepburns. so far knox was an example of the doctrine of heredity; that we know, however little we learn in detail about his ancestors. the birthplace of knox was probably a house in a suburb of haddington, in a district on the path of english invasion. the year of his birth has long been dated, on a late statement of little authority, as . { } seven years after his death, however, a man who knew him well, namely, peter young, tutor and librarian of james vi., told beza that knox died in his fifty-ninth year. dr. hay fleming has pointed out that his natal year was probably - , not , and this reckoning, we shall see, appears to fit in better with the deeds of the reformer. if knox was born in - , he must have taken priest's orders, and adopted the profession of a notary, at nearly the earliest moment which the canonical law permitted. no man ought to be in priest's orders before he was twenty-five; knox, if born in , was just twenty-five in , when he is styled "sir john knox" (one of "the pope's knights") in legal documents, and appears as a notary. { } he certainly continued in orders and in the notarial profession as late as march . the law of the church did not, in fact, permit priests to be notaries, but in an age when "notaires" were often professional forgers, the additional security for character yielded by holy orders must have been welcome to clients, and bishops permitted priests to practise this branch of the law. of knox's near kin no more is known than of his ancestors. he had a brother, william, for whom, in , he procured a licence to trade in england as owner of a ship of tons. even as late as , there were not a dozen ships of this burden in scotland, so william knox must have been relatively a prosperous man. in - , there was a william knox, a fowler or gamekeeper to the earl of westmoreland, who acted as a secret agent between the scots in english pay and their paymasters. we much later ( ) find the reformer's brother, william, engaged with him in a secret political mission to the governor of berwick; probably this william knew shy border paths, and he may have learned them as the lord westmoreland's fowler in earlier years. about john knox's early years and education nothing is known. he certainly acquired such latin (satis humilis, says a german critic) as scotland then had to teach; probably at the burgh school of haddington. a certain john knox matriculated at the university of glasgow in , but he cannot have been the reformer, if the reformer was not born till - . beza, on the other hand ( ), had learned, probably from the reformer, whom he knew well, that knox was a st. andrews man, and though his name does not occur in the university register, the register was very ill kept. supposing knox, then, to have been born in - , and to have been educated at st. andrews, we can see how he comes to know so much about the progress of the new religious ideas at that university, between and . "the well of st. leonard's college" was a notorious fountain of heresies, under gawain logie, the principal. knox very probably heard the sermons of the dominicans and franciscans "against the pride and idle life of bishops," and other abuses. he speaks of a private conversation between friar airth and major (about ), and names some of the persons present at a sermon in the parish church of st. andrews, as if he had himself been in the congregation. he gives the text and heads of the discourse, including "merry tales" told by the friar. { } if knox heard the sermons and stories of clerical scandals at st. andrews, they did not prevent him from taking orders. his greek and hebrew, what there was of them, knox must have acquired in later life, at least we never learn that he was taught by the famous george wishart, who, about that time, gave greek lectures at montrose. the catholic opponents of knox naturally told scandalous anecdotes concerning his youth. these are destitute of evidence: about his youth we know nothing. it is a characteristic trait in him, and a fact much to his credit, that, though he is fond of expatiating about himself, he never makes confessions as to his earlier adventures. on his own years of the wild oat st. augustine dilates in a style which still has charm: but knox, if he sowed wild oats, is silent as the tomb. if he has anything to repent, it is not to the world that he confesses. about the days when he was "one of baal's shaven sort," in his own phrase; when he was himself an "idolater," and a priest of the altar: about the details of his conversion, knox is mute. it is probable that, as a priest, he examined lutheran books which were brought in with other merchandise from holland; read the bible for himself; and failed to find purgatory, the mass, the intercession of saints, pardons, pilgrimages, and other accessories of mediaeval religion in the scriptures. { } knox had only to keep his eyes and ears open, to observe the clerical ignorance and corruption which resulted in great part from the scottish habit of securing wealthy church offices for ignorant, brutal, and licentious younger sons and bastards of noble families. this practice in scotland was as odious to good catholics, like quentin kennedy, ninian winzet, and, rather earlier, to ferrerius, as to knox himself. the prevalent anarchy caused by the long minorities of the stuart kings, and by the interminable wars with england, and the difficulty of communications with rome, had enabled the nobles thus to rob and deprave the church, and so to provide themselves with moral reasons good for robbing her again; as a punishment for the iniquities which they had themselves introduced! the almost incredible ignorance and profligacy of the higher scottish clergy (with notable exceptions) in knox's youth, are not matter of controversy. they are as frankly recognised by contemporary catholic as by protestant authors. in the very year of the destruction of the monasteries ( ) the abuses are officially stated, as will be told later, by the last scottish provincial council. though three of the four scottish universities were founded by catholics, and the fourth, edinburgh, had an endowment bequeathed by a catholic, the clerical ignorance, in knox's time, was such that many priests could hardly read. if more evidence is needed as to the debauched estate of the scottish clergy, we obtain it from mary of guise, widow of james v., the regent then governing scotland for her child, mary stuart. the queen, in december , begged pius iv. to permit her to levy a tax on her clergy, and to listen to what cardinal sermoneta would tell him about their need of reformation. the cardinal drew a terrible sketch of the nefarious lives of "every kind of religious women" in scotland. they go about with their illegal families and dower their daughters out of the revenues of the church. the monks, too, have bloated wealth, while churches are allowed to fall into decay. "the only hope is in the holy father," who should appoint an episcopal commission of visitation. for about forty years prelates have been alienating church lands illegally, and churches and monasteries, by the avarice of those placed in charge, are crumbling to decay. bishops are the chief dealers in cattle, fish, and hides, though we have, in fact, good evidence that their dealings were very limited, "sma' sums." not only the clergy, but the nobles and people were lawless. "they are more difficult to manage than ever," writes mary of guise (jan. , ). they are recalcitrant against law and order; every attempt at introducing these is denounced as an attack on their old laws: not that their laws are bad, but that they are badly administered. { } scotland, in brief, had always been lawless, and for centuries had never been godly. she was untouched by the first fervour of the franciscan and other religious revivals. knox could not fail to see what was so patent: many books of the german reformers may have come in his way; no more was wanted than the preaching of george wishart in - , to make him an irreconcilable foe of the doctrine as well as the discipline of his church. knox had a sincerely religious nature, and a conviction that he was, more than most men, though a sinner, in close touch with him "in whom we live and move and have our being." we ask ourselves, had knox, as "a priest of the altar," never known the deep emotions, which tongue may not utter, that the ceremonies and services of his church so naturally awaken in the soul of the believer? these emotions, if they were in his experience, he never remembered tenderly, he flung them from him without regret; not regarding them even as dreams, beautiful and dear, but misleading, that came through the ivory gate. to knox's opponent in controversy, quentin kennedy, the mass was "the blessed sacrament of the altar . . . which is one of the chief sacraments whereby our saviour, for the salvation of mankind, has appointed the fruit of his death and passion to be daily renewed and applied." in this traditional view there is nothing unedifying, nothing injurious to the christian life. but to knox the wafer is an idol, a god "of water and meal," "but a feeble and miserable god," that can be destroyed "by a bold and puissant mouse." "rats and mice will desire no better dinner than white round gods enough." { } the reformer and the catholic take up the question "by different handles"; and the catholic grounds his defence on a text about melchizedek! to knox the mass is the symbol of all that he justly detested in the degraded church as she then was in scotland, "that horrible harlot with her filthiness." to kennedy it was what we have seen. knox speaks of having been in "the puddle of papistry." he loathes what he has left behind him, and it is natural to guess that, in his first years of priesthood, his religious nature slept; that he became a priest and notary merely that he "might eat a morsel of bread"; and that real "conviction" never was his till his studies of protestant controversialists, and also of st. augustine and the bible, and the teaching of wishart, raised him from a mundane life. then he awoke to a passionate horror and hatred of his old routine of "mumbled masses," of "rites of human invention," whereof he had never known the poetry and the mystic charm. had he known them, he could not have so denied and detested them. on the other hand, when once he had embraced the new ideas, knox's faith in them, or in his own form of them, was firm as the round world, made so fast that it cannot be moved. he had now a pou sto, whence he could, and did, move the world of human affairs. a faith not to be shaken, and enormous energy were the essential attributes of the reformer. it is almost impossible to find an instance in which knox allows that he may have been mistaken: d'avoir toujours raison was his claim. if he admits an error in details, it is usually an error of insufficient severity. he did not attack northumberland or mary stuart with adequate violence; he did not disapprove enough of our prayer book; he did not hand a heretic over to the magistrates. while acting as a priest and notary, between , at latest, and , knox was engaged as private tutor to a boy named brounefield, son of brounefield of greenlaw, and to other lads, spoken of as his "bairns." in this profession of tutor he continued till . knox's personal aspect did not give signs of the uncommon strength which his unceasing labours demanded, but, like many men of energy, he had a perpetual youth of character and vigour. after his death, peter young described him as he appeared in his later years. he was somewhat below the "just" standard of height; his limbs were well and elegantly shaped; his shoulders broad, his fingers rather long, his head small, his hair black, his face somewhat swarthy, and not unpleasant to behold. there was a certain geniality in a countenance serious and stern, with a natural dignity and air of command; his eyebrows, when he was in anger, were expressive. his forehead was rather narrow, depressed above the eyebrows; his cheeks were full and ruddy, so that the eyes seemed to retreat into their hollows: they were dark grey, keen, and lively. the face was long, the nose also; the mouth was large, the upper lip being the thicker. the beard was long, rather thick and black, with a few grey hairs in his later years. { } the nearest approach to an authentic portrait of knox is a woodcut, engraved after a sketch from memory by peter young, and after another sketch of the same kind by an artist in edinburgh. compared with the peevish face of calvin, also in beza's icones, knox looks a broad-minded and genial character. despite the uncommon length to which knox carried the contemporary approval of persecution, then almost universal, except among the anabaptists (and any party out of power), he was not personally rancorous where religion was not concerned. but concerned it usually was! he was the subject of many anonymous pasquils and libels, we know, but he entirely disregarded them. if he hated any mortal personally, and beyond what true religion demands of a christian, that mortal was the mother of mary stuart, an amiable lady in an impossible position. of jealousy towards his brethren there is not a trace in knox, and he told queen mary that he could ill bear to correct his own boys, though the age was as cruel to schoolboys as that of st. augustine. the faults of knox arose not in his heart, but in his head; they sprung from intellectual errors, and from the belief that he was always right. he applied to his fellow-christians--catholics--the commands which early israel supposed to be divinely directed against foreign worshippers of chemosh and moloch. he endeavoured to force his own theory of what the discipline of the primitive apostolic church had been upon a modern nation, following the example of the little city state of geneva, under calvin. he claimed for preachers chosen by local congregations the privileges and powers of the apostolic companions of christ, and in place of "sweet reasonableness," he applied the methods, quite alien to the founder of christianity, of the "sons of thunder." all controversialists then relied on isolated and inappropriate scriptural texts, and biblical analogies which were not analogous; but knox employed these things, with perhaps unusual inconsistency, in varying circumstances. his "history" is not more scrupulous than that of other partisans in an exciting contest, and examples of his taste for personal scandal are not scarce. chapter ii: knox, wishart, and the murder of beaton: - our earliest knowledge of knox, apart from mention of him in notarial documents, is derived from his own history of the reformation. the portion of that work in which he first mentions himself was written about - , some twenty years after the events recorded, and in reading all this part of his memoirs, and his account of the religious struggle, allowance must be made for errors of memory, or for erroneous information. we meet him first towards the end of "the holy days of yule"--christmas, . knox had then for some weeks been the constant companion and armed bodyguard of george wishart, who was calling himself "the messenger of the eternal god," and preaching the new ideas in haddington to very small congregations. this wishart, knox's master in the faith, was a forfarshire man; he is said to have taught greek at montrose, to have been driven thence in by the bishop of brechin, and to have recanted certain heresies in . he had denied the merits of christ as the redeemer, but afterwards dropped that error, when persistence meant death at the stake. it was in bristol that he "burned his faggot," in place of being burned himself. there was really nothing humiliating in this recantation, for, after his release, he did not resume his heresy; clearly he yielded, not to fear, but to conviction of theological error. { a} he next travelled in germany, where a jew, on a rhine boat, inspired or increased his aversion to works of sacred art, as being "idolatrous." about - he was reading with pupils at cambridge, and was remarked for the severity of his ascetic virtue, and for his great charity. at some uncertain date he translated the helvetic confession of faith, and he was more of a calvinist than a lutheran. in july he returned to scotland; at least he returned with some "commissioners to england," who certainly came home in july , as knox mentions, though later he gives the date of wishart's return in , probably by a slip of the pen. coming home in july , wishart would expect a fair chance of preaching his novel ideas, as peace between scotland and protestant england now seemed secure, and arran, the scottish regent, the chief of the almost royal house of hamilton, was, for the moment, himself a protestant. for five days (august -september , ) the great cardinal beaton, the head of the party of the church, was outlawed, and wishart's preaching at dundee, about that date, is supposed by some { b} to have stimulated an attack then made on the monasteries in the town. but arran suddenly recanted, deserted the protestants and the faction attached to england, and joined forces with cardinal beaton, who, in november , visited dundee, and imprisoned the ringleaders in the riots. they are called "the honestest men in the town," by the treble traitor and rascal, crichton, laird of brunston in lothian, at this time a secret agent of sadleir, the envoy of henry viii. (november , ). by april , henry was preparing to invade scotland, and the "earnest professors" of protestant doctrines in scotland sent to him "a scottish man called wysshert," with a proposal for the kidnapping or murder of cardinal beaton. brunston and other scottish lairds of wishart's circle were agents of the plot, and in - our george wishart is found companioning with them. when cassilis took up the threads of the plot against beaton, it was to cassilis's country in ayrshire that wishart went and there preached. thence he returned to dundee, to fight the plague and comfort the citizens, and, towards the end of , moved to lothian, expecting to be joined there by his westland supporters, led by cassilis--but entertaining dark forebodings of his doom. there were, however, other wisharts, protestants, in scotland. it is not possible to prove that this reformer, though the associate, was the agent of the murderers, or was even conscious of their schemes. yet if he had been, there was no matter for marvel. knox himself approved of and applauded the murders of cardinal beaton and of riccio, and, in that age, too many men of all creeds and parties believed that to kill an opponent of their religious cause was to imitate phinehas, jael, jehu, and other patriots of hebrew history. dr. m'crie remarks that knox "held the opinion, that persons who, according to the law of god and the just laws of society, have forfeited their lives by the commission of flagrant crimes, such as notorious murderers and tyrants, may warrantably be put to death by private individuals, provided all redress in the ordinary course of justice is rendered impossible, in consequence of the offenders having usurped the executive authority, or being systematically protected by oppressive rulers." the ideas of knox, in fact, varied in varying circumstances and moods, and, as we shall show, at times he preached notions far more truculent than those attributed to him by his biographer; at times was all for saint-like submission and mere "passive resistance." { } the current ideas of both parties on "killing no murder" were little better than those of modern anarchists. it was a prevalent opinion that a king might have a subject assassinated, if to try him publicly entailed political inconveniences. the inquisition, in spain, vigorously repudiated this theory, but the inquisition was in advance of the age. knox, as to the doctrine of "killing no murder," was, and wishart may have been, a man of his time. but knox, in telling the story of a murder which he approves, unhappily displays a glee unbecoming a reformer of the church of him who blamed st. peter for his recourse to the sword. the very essence of christianity is cast to the winds when knox utters his laughter over the murders or misfortunes of his opponents, yielding, as dr. m'crie says, "to the strong propensity which he felt to indulge his vein of humour." other good men rejoiced in the murder of an enemy, but knox chuckled. nothing has injured knox more in the eyes of posterity (when they happen to be aware of the facts) than this "humour" of his. knox might be pardoned had he merely excused the murder of "the devil's own son," cardinal beaton, who executed the law on his friend and master, george wishart. to wishart knox bore a tender and enthusiastic affection, crediting him not only with the virtues of charity and courage which he possessed, but also with supernormal premonitions; "he was so clearly illuminated with the spirit of prophecy." these premonitions appear to have come to wishart by way of vision. knox asserted some prophetic gift for himself, but never hints anything as to the method, whether by dream, vision, or the hearing of voices. he often alludes to himself as "the prophet," and claims certain privileges in that capacity. for example the prophet may blamelessly preach what men call "treason," as we shall see. as to his actual predictions of events, he occasionally writes as if they were mere deductions from scripture. god will punish the idolater; a or b is an idolater; therefore it is safe to predict that god will punish him or her. "what man then can cease to prophesy?" he asks; and there is, if we thus consider the matter, no reason why anybody should ever leave off prophesying. { a} but if the art of prophecy is common to all bible-reading mankind, all mankind, being prophets, may promulgate treason, which knox perhaps would not have admitted. he thought himself more specially a seer, and in his prayer after the failure of his friends, the murderers of riccio, he congratulates himself on being favoured above the common sort of his brethren, and privileged to "forespeak" things, in an unique degree. "i dare not deny . . . but that god hath revealed unto me secrets unknown to the world," he writes { b}; and these claims soar high above mere deductions from scripture. his biographer, dr. m'crie, doubts whether we can dismiss, as necessarily baseless, all stories of "extraordinary premonitions since the completion of the canon of inspiration." { } indeed, there appears to be no reason why we should draw the line at a given date, and "limit the operations of divine providence." i would be the last to do so, but then knox's premonitions are sometimes, or usually, without documentary and contemporary corroboration; once he certainly prophesied after the event (as we shall see), and he never troubles himself about his predictions which were unfulfilled, as against queen elizabeth. he supplied the kirk with the tradition of supernormal premonitions in preachers--second-sight and clairvoyance--as in the case of mr. peden and other saints of the covenant. but just as good cases of clairvoyance as any of mr. peden's are attributed to catherine de medici, who was not a saint, by her daughter, la reine margot, and others. in knox, at all events, there is no trace of visual or auditory hallucinations, so common in religious experiences, whatever the creed of the percipient. he was not a visionary. more than this we cannot safely say about his prophetic vein. the enthusiasm which induced a priest, notary, and teacher like knox to carry a claymore in defence of a beloved teacher, wishart, seems more appropriate to a man of about thirty than a man of forty, and, so far, supports the opinion that, in , knox was only thirty years of age. in that case, his study of the debates between the church and the new opinions must have been relatively brief. yet, in , he already reckoned himself, not incorrectly, as a skilled disputant in favour of ideas with which he cannot have been very long familiar. wishart was taken, was tried, was condemned; was strangled, and his dead body was burned at st. andrews on march , . it is highly improbable that knox could venture, as a marked man, to be present at the trial. he cites the account of it in his "history" from the contemporary scottish narrative used by foxe in his "martyrs," and laing, knox's editor, thinks that foxe "may possibly have been indebted for some" of the scottish accounts "to the scottish reformer." it seems, if there be anything in evidence of tone and style, that what knox quotes from foxe in - is what knox himself actually wrote about - . mr. hill burton observes in the tract "the mark of knox's vehement colouring," and adds, "it is needless to seek in the account for precise accuracy." in "precise accuracy" many historians are as sadly to seek as knox himself, but his peculiar "colouring" is all his own, and is as marked in the pamphlet on wishart's trial, which he cites, as in the "history" which he acknowledged. there are said to be but few copies of the first edition of the black letter tract on wishart's trial, published in london, with lindsay's "tragedy of the cardinal," by day and seres. i regard it as the earliest printed work of john knox. { } the author, when he describes lauder, wishart's official accuser, as "a fed sow . . . his face running down with sweat, and frothing at the mouth like ane bear," who "spat at maister george's face, . . . " shows every mark of knox's vehement and pictorial style. his editor, laing, bids us observe "that all these opprobrious terms are copied from foxe, or rather from the black letter tract." but the black letter tract, i conceive, must be knox's own. its author, like knox, "indulges his vein of humour" by speaking of friars as "fiends"; like knox he calls wishart "maister george," and "that servand of god." the peculiarities of the tract, good and bad, the vivid familiar manner, the vehemence, the pictorial quality, the violent invective, are the notes of knox's "history." already, by , or not much later, he was the perfect master of his style; his tone no more resembles that of his contemporary and fellow-historian, lesley, than the style of mr. j. r. green resembles that of mr. s. r. gardiner. chapter iii: knox in st. andrews castle: the galleys: - we now take up knox where we left him: namely when wishart was arrested in january . he was then tutor to the sons of the lairds of langniddrie and ormiston, protestants and of the english party. of his adventures we know nothing, till, on beaton's murder (may , ), the cardinal's successor, archbishop hamilton, drove him "from place to place," and, at easter, , he with his pupils entered the castle of st. andrews, then held, with some english aid, against the regent arran, by the murderers of beaton and their adherents. { } knox was not present, of course, at beaton's murder, about which he writes so "merrily," in his manner of mirth; nor at the events of arran's siege of the castle, prior to april . he probably, as regards these matters, writes from recollection of what kirkcaldy of grange, james balfour, balnaves, and the other murderers or associates of the murderers of the cardinal told him in , or later communicated to him as he wrote, about - . with his unfortunate love of imputing personal motives, he attributes the attacks by the rulers on the murderers mainly to the revengeful nature of mary of guise; the cardinal having been "the comfort to all gentlewomen, and _especially to wanton widows_. his death must be revenged." { a} knox avers that the besiegers of st. andrews castle, despairing of their task, near the end of january made a fraudulent truce with the assassins, hoping for the betrayal of the castle, or of some of the leaders. { b} in his narrative we find partisanship or very erroneous information. the conditions were, he says, that ( ) the murderers should hold the castle till arran could obtain for them, from the pope, a sufficient absolution; ( ) that they should give hostages, as soon as the absolution was delivered to them; ( ) that they and their friends should not be prosecuted, nor undergo any legal penalties for the murder of the cardinal; ( ) that they should meanwhile keep the eldest son of arran as hostage, so long as their own hostages were kept. the government, however, says knox, "never minded to keep word of them" (of these conditions), "as the issue did declare." there is no proof of this accusation of treachery on the part of arran, or none known to me. the constant aim of knox, his fixed idea, as an historian, is to accuse his adversaries of the treachery which often marked the negotiations of his friends. from this point, the truce, dated by knox late in january , he devotes eighteen pages to his own call to the ministry by the castle people, and to his controversies and sermons in st. andrews. he then returns to history, and avers that, about june , , the papal absolution was presented to the garrison merely as a veil for a treasonable attack, but was rejected, as it included the dubious phrase, remittimus irremissibile--"we remit the crime that cannot be remitted." nine days later, june , he says, by "the treasonable mean" of arran, archbishop hamilton, and mary of guise, twenty-one french galleys, and such an army as the firth had never seen, hove into view, and on june summoned the castle to surrender. the siege of st andrews castle, from the sea, by the french then began, but the garrison and castle were unharmed, and many of the galley slaves and some french soldiers were slain, and a ship was driven out of action. the french "shot two days" only. on july the siege was renewed by land, guns were mounted on the spires of st. salvator's college chapel and on the cathedral, and did much scathe, though, during the first three weeks of the siege, the garrison "had many prosperous chances." meanwhile knox prophesied the defeat of his associates, because of "their corrupt life." they had robbed and ravished, and were probably demoralised by knox's prophecies. on the last day of july the castle surrendered. { } knox adds that his friends would deal with france alone, as "scottish men had all traitorously betrayed them." now much of this narrative is wrong; wrong in detail, in suggestion, in omission. that a man of fifty, or sixty, could attribute the attacks on beaton's murderers to mere revenge, specially to that of a "wanton widow," mary of guise (who had, we are to believe, so much of the cardinal's attentions as his mistress, mariotte ogilvy, could spare), is significant of the spirit in which knox wrote history. he had a strong taste for such scandals as this about the "wanton widow." wherever he touches on mary of guise (who once treated him in a spirit of banter), he deals a stab at her name and fame. on all that concerns her personal character and political conduct, he is unworthy of credit when uncorroborated by better authority. indeed knox's spirit is so unworthy that for this, among other reasons, archbishop spottiswoode declined to believe in his authorship of the "history." the actual facts were not those recorded by knox. as regards the "appointment" or arrangement of the scottish government with the castilians, it was not made late in january , but was at least begun by december - , . { a} on january , , a spy of england, stewart of cardonald, reports that the garrison have given pledges and await their absolution from rome. { b} with regard to knox's other statements in this place, it was not _after_ this truce, first, but before it, on november , that arran invited french assistance, if england would not include scotland in a treaty of peace with france. an english invasion was expected in february , and arran's object in the "appointment" with the garrison was to prevent the english from becoming possessed of the castle of st. andrews. far from desiring a papal pardon--a mere pretext to gain time for english relief--the garrison actually asked henry viii. to request the emperor, to implore the pope, "to stop and hinder their absolution." { c} knox very probably knew nothing of all this, but his efforts to throw the blame of treachery on his opponents are obviously futile. as to the honesty of his associates--before the death of henry viii. (january , ), the castilians had promised him not to surrender the place without his consent, and to put arran's son in his hands, promises which they also made, on henry's death, to the english government; in february they repeated these promises, quite incompatible with their vow to surrender if absolved. knox represents them as merely promising to henry that they would return arran's son, and support the plan of marrying mary stuart to prince edward of wales! { a} in march , english ships gathered at holy island, to relieve the castle. not on june , , as knox alleges, but before april , the papal absolution for the murderers arrived. they mocked at it; and the spy who reports the facts is told that they "would rather have a boll of wheat than all the pope's remissions." { b} whatever the terms of the papal remission, they had already, before it arrived, bound themselves to england not to accept it save with english concurrence; and england, then preparing to invade scotland, could not possibly concur. such was the honesty of knox's party, and we already see how far his "history" deserves to be accepted as historical. next, what is most surprising, knox's account of the month of ineffectual siege by the french, while he was actually in the castle, rests on a strange error of his memory. the contemporary diary, diurnal of occurrences dates the _sending_ (the arrival must be meant) of the french galleys, not on june , as knox dates their arrival, but on july . professor hume brown says that the diurnal gives the date as _june_ (a slip of the pen), "but knox had surely the best opportunity of knowing both facts" { a}--that is, the number of the galleys, and the date of their coming. despite his unrivalled opportunities of knowledge, knox did not know. it is not quite correct to say that "knox in his 'history' shows throughout a conscientious regard to accuracy of statement." whatever the number of the galleys (knox says twenty-one; the diurnal says sixteen), on july - , they are reported by lord eure, at berwick, as passing or having just passed eyemouth. { b} they did not therefore suffer for three weeks at the garrison's hands, or for three weeks desert the siege, but probably reached the scene of action before the date in the diurnal (july ), as, on july , the french ambassador in england heard that they were investing the castle. { c} allowing five or six days for transmission of news, they probably began the attack from the sea about july or , not, as knox says, on june . perhaps he is right in saying that the french galleys only fired for two days and retreated, rather battered, to dundee. land forces next attacked the hold, which surrendered on july (as was known in london on august ), that is, on the first day that the _land_ battery was erected. knox gives a much more full account of his own controversies, in april- june , than of political events. he first, on arrival at the castle, drew up a catechism for his pupils, and publicly catechised them on its tenets, in the parish kirk in south street. it is unfortunate that we do not possess this catechism. at the time when he wrote, knox was possibly more of "martin's" mind, as he familiarly terms luther, both as to the sacrament and as to the order of bishops, than he was after his residence in geneva. wishart, however, was well acquainted with helvetic doctrine; he had, as we saw, translated a helvetic confession of faith, perhaps with the view of introducing it into scotland, and knox may already have imbibed calvinism from him. he was not yet--he never was--a full-blown presbyterian, and, while thinking nothing of "orders," would not have rejected a bishop, if the bishop _preached_ and was of godly and frugal life. already sermons were the most important part of public worship in the mind of knox. in addition to public catechising he publicly expounded, and lectured on the fourth gospel, in the chapel of the castle. he doubted if he had "a lawful vocation" to _preach_. the castle pulpit was then occupied by an ex-friar named rough. this divine, later burned in england, preached a sermon declaring a doctrine accepted by knox, namely, that any congregation could call on any man in whom they "espied the gifts of god" to be their preacher; he offered knox the post, and all present agreed. knox wept, and for days his gloom declared his sense of his responsibility: such was "his holy vocation." the garrison was, confessedly, brutal, licentious, and rapacious, but they "all" partook of the holy communion. { } in controversy, knox declared the church to be "the synagogue of satan," and in the pope he detected and denounced "the man of sin." on the following sunday he proved, from daniel, that the roman church is "that last beast." the church is also anti-christ, and "the hoore of babylon," and knox dilated on the personal misconduct of popes and "all shavelings for the most part." he contrasted justification by faith with the customs of pardons and pilgrimages. after these remarks, a controversy was held between knox and the sub-prior, wynram, the scottish vicar of bray, knox being understood to maintain that no bishop who did not preach was really a bishop; that the mass is "abominable idolatry"; that purgatory does not exist; and that the tithes are not necessarily the property of churchmen--a doctrine very welcome to the hungry nobles of scotland. knox, of course, easily overcame an ignorant opponent, a friar, who joined in the fray. his own arguments he later found time to write out fully in the french galleys, in which he was a prisoner, after the fall of the castle. if he "wrate in the galleys," as he says, they cannot have been always such floating hells as they are usually reckoned. that knox, and other captives from the castle, were placed in the galleys after their surrender, was an abominable stretch of french power. they were not subjects of france. the terms on which they surrendered are not exactly known. knox avers that they were to be free to live in france, and that, if they wished to leave, they were to be conveyed, at french expense, to any country except scotland. buchanan declares that only the lives of the garrison and their friends were secured by the terms of surrender. lesley supports knox, { a} who is probably accurate. to account for the french severity, knox tells us that the pope insisted on it, appealing to both the scottish and french governments; and scotland sent an envoy to france to beg "that those of the castle should be sharply handled." men of birth were imprisoned, the rest went to the galleys. knox's life cannot have been so bad as that of the huguenot galley slaves under louis xiv. he was allowed to receive letters; he read and commented on a treatise written in prison by balnaves; and he even wrote a theological work, unless this work was his commentary on balnaves. these things can only have been possible when the galleys were not on active service. in a very manly spirit, he never dilated on his sufferings, and merely alludes to "the torment i sustained in the galleys." he kept up his heart, always prophesying deliverance; and once (june, ?), when in view of st. andrews, declared that he should preach again in the kirk where his career began. unluckily, the person to whom he spoke, at a moment when he himself was dangerously ill, denied that he had ever been in the galleys at all! { b} he was sir james balfour, a notorious scoundrel, quite untrustworthy; according to knox, he had spoken of the prophecy, in scotland, long before its fulfilment. knox's health was more or less undermined, while his spiritual temper was not mollified by nineteen months of the galleys, mitigated as they obviously were. it is, doubtless, to his "torment" in the galleys that knox refers when he writes: "i know how hard the battle is between the spirit and the flesh, under the heavy cross of affliction, where no worldly defence, but present death, does appear. . . . rests only faith, provoking us to call earnestly, and pray for assistance of god's spirit, wherein if we continue, our most desperate calamities shall turn to gladness, and to a prosperous end. . . . with experience i write this." in february or march, , knox was released; by april he was in england, and, while edward vi. lived, was in comparative safety. chapter iv: knox in england: the black rubric: exile: - knox at once appeared in england in a character revolting to the later presbyterian conscience, which he helped to educate. the state permitted no cleric to preach without a royal license, and knox was now a state licensed preacher at berwick, one of many "state officials with a specified mission." he was an agent of the english administration, then engaged in forcing a detested religion on the majority of the english people. but he candidly took his own line, indifferent to the compromises of the rulers in that chaos of shifting opinions. for example, the prayer book of edward vi. at that time took for granted kneeling as the appropriate attitude for communicants. knox, at berwick, on the other hand, bade his congregation sit, as he conceived that to have been the usage at the first institution of the rite. possibly the apostles, in fact, supped in a recumbent attitude, as cranmer justly remarked later (john xiii. ), but knox supposed them to have sat. in a letter to his berwick flock, he reminds them of his practice on this point; but he would not dissent from kneeling if "magistrates make known, as that they" (would?) "have done if ministers were willing to do their duties, that kneeling is not retained in the lord's supper for maintenance of any superstition," much less as "adoration of the lord's supper." this, "for a time," would content him: and this he obtained. { a} here knox appears to make the civil authority--"the magistrates"--governors of the church, while at the same time he does not in practice obey them unless they accept his conditions. this letter to the berwick flock must be prior to the autumn of , in which, as we shall see, knox obtained his terms as to kneeling. he went on, in his epistle to the berwickians, to speak in "a tone of moderation and modesty," for which, says dr. lorimer, not many readers will be prepared. { b} in this modest passage, knox says that, as to "the chief points of religion," he, with god's help, "will give place to neither man nor angel teaching the contrary" of his preaching. yet an angel might be supposed to be well informed on points of doctrine! "but as to ceremonies or rites, things of smaller weight, i was not minded to move contention. . . ." the one point which--"because i am but one, having in my contrary magistrates, common order, and judgments, and many learned"--he is prepared to yield, and that for a time, is the practice of kneeling, but only on three conditions. these being granted, "with patience will i bear that one thing, daily thirsting and calling unto god for reformation of that and others." { c} but he did not bear that one thing; he would _not_ kneel even after his terms were granted! this is the sum of knox's "moderation and modesty"! though he is not averse from talking about himself, knox, in his "history," spares but three lines to his five years' residence in england ( - ). his first charge was berwick ( - ), where we have seen he celebrated holy communion by the swiss rite, all meekly sitting. the second prayer book, of , when knox ministered in newcastle, bears marks of his hand. he opposed, as has been said, the rubric bidding the communicants kneel; the attitude savoured of "idolatry." the circumstances in which knox carried his point on this question are most curious. just before october , , a foreign protestant, johannes utenhovius, wrote to the zurich protestant, bullinger, to the effect that a certain vir bonus, scotus natione (a good man and a scot), a preacher (concionator), of the duke of northumberland, had delivered a sermon before the king and council, "in which he freely inveighed against the anglican custom of kneeling at the lord's supper." many listeners were greatly moved, and utenhovius prayed that the sermon might be of blessed effect. knox was certainly in london at this date, and was almost certainly the excellent scot referred to by utenhovius. the second prayer book of edward vi. was then in such forwardness that parliament had appointed it to be used in churches, beginning on november . the book included the command to kneel at the lord's supper, and any agitation against the practice might seem to be too late. cranmer, the primate, was in favour of the rubric as it stood, and on october , , addressed the privy council in a letter which, without naming knox, clearly shows his opinion of our reformer. the book, _as it stood_, said cranmer, had the assent of king and parliament--now it was to be altered, apparently, "without parliament." the council ought not to be thus influenced by "glorious and unquiet spirits." cranmer calls knox, as throckmorton later called queen mary's bothwell, "glorious" in the sense of the latin gloriosus, "swaggering," or "arrogant." cranmer goes on to denounce the "glorious and unquiet spirits, which can like nothing but that is after their own fancy, and cease not to make trouble and disquietude when things be most quiet and in good order." { } their argument (knox's favourite), that whatever is not commanded in scripture is unlawful and ungodly, "is a subversion of all order as well in religion as in common policy." cranmer ends with the amazing challenge: "i will set my foot by his to be tried in the fire, that his doctrine is untrue, and not only untrue but seditious, and perilous to be heard of any subjects, as a thing breaking the bridle of obedience and loosing them from the bond of all princes' laws." cranmer had a premonition of the troubled years of james vi. and of the covenant, when this question of kneeling was the first cause of the bishops' wars. but knox did not accept, as far as we know, the mediaeval ordeal by fire. other questions about practices enjoined in the articles arose. a "confession," in which knox's style may be traced, was drawn up, and consequently that "declaration on kneeling" was intercalated into the prayer book, wherein it is asserted that the attitude does not imply adoration of the elements, or belief in the real presence, "for that were idolatry." elizabeth dropped, and charles ii. restored, this "black rubric" which anglicanism owes to the scottish reformer. { a} he "once had a good opinion," he says, of the liturgy as it now stood, but he soon found that it was full of idolatries. the most important event in the private life of knox, during his stay at berwick, was his acquaintance with a devout lady of tormented conscience, mrs. bowes, wife of the governor of norham castle on tweed. mrs. bowes's tendency to the new ideas in religion was not shared by her husband and his family; the results will presently be conspicuous. in april , knox preached at newcastle a sermon on his favourite doctrine that the mass is "idolatry," because it is "of man's invention," an opinion not shared by tunstall, then bishop of durham. knox used "idolatry" in a constructive sense, as when we talk of "constructive treason." but, in practice, he regarded catholics as "idolaters," in the same sense as elijah regarded hebrew worshippers of alien deities, chemosh or moloch, and he later drew the inference that idolaters, as in the old testament, must be put to death. thus his was logically a persecuting religion. knox was made a king's chaplain and transferred to newcastle. he saw that the country was, by preference, catholic; that the life of edward vi. hung on a thread; and that with the accession of his sister, mary tudor, protestant principles would be as unsafe as under "umquhile the cardinal." knox therefore, "from the foresight of troubles to come" (so he writes to mrs. bowes, february , ), { b} declined any post, a bishopric, or a living, which would in honour oblige him to face the fire of persecution. at the same time he was even then far at odds with the church of england that he had sound reasons for refusing benefices. on christmas day, , { a} he preached at newcastle against papists, as "thirsting nothing more than the king's death, which their iniquity would procure." in two brief years knox was himself publicly expressing his own thirst for the queen's death, and praying for a jehu or a phinehas, slayers of idolaters, such as mary tudor. if any fanatic had taken this hint, and the life of mary tudor, catholics would have said that knox's "iniquity procured" the murder, and they would have had fair excuse for the assertion. meanwhile charges were brought against the reformer, on the ground of his christmas sermon of peace and goodwill. northumberland (january , - ) sends to cecil "a letter of poor knox, by the which you may perceive what perplexity the poor soul remaineth in at this present." we have not knox's interesting letter, but northumberland pled his cause against a charge of treason. in fact, however, the court highly approved of his sermon. he was presently again in what he believed to be imminent danger of life: "i fear that i be not yet ripe, nor able to glorify christ by my faith," he wrote to mrs. bowes, "but what lacketh now, god shall perform in his own time." { b} we do not know what peril threatened the reformer now (probably in march ), but he frequently, later, seems to have doubted his own "ripeness" for martyrdom. his reluctance to suffer did not prevent him from constant attendance to the tedious self-tormentings of mrs. bowes, and of "three honest poor women" in london. knox, at all events, was not so "perplexed" that he feared to speak his mind in the pulpit. in lent, , preaching before the boy king, he denounced his ministers in trenchant historical parallels between them and achitophel, shebna, and judas. later, young mr. mackail, applying the same method to the ministers of charles ii., was hanged. "what wonder is it then," said knox, "that a young and innocent king be deceived by crafty, covetous, wicked, and ungodly councillors? i am greatly afraid that achitophel be councillor, that judas bear the purse, and that shebna be scribe, comptroller, and treasurer." { a} this appears the extreme of audacity. yet nothing worse came to knox than questions, by the council, as to his refusal of a benefice, and his declining, as he still did, to kneel at the communion (april , ). his answers prove that he was out of harmony with the fluctuating anglicanism of the hour. northumberland could not then resent the audacities of pulpiteers, because the protestants were the only party who might stand by him in his approaching effort to crown lady jane grey. now all the king's preachers, obviously by concerted action, "thundered" against edward's council, in the lent or easter of . manifestly, in the old scots phrase, "the kirk had a back"; had some secular support, namely that of their party, which northumberland could not slight. meanwhile knox was sent on a preaching tour in buckinghamshire, and there he was when edward vi. died, in the first week of july . { b} knox's official attachment to england expired with his preaching license, on the death of edward vi. and the accession of mary tudor. he did not at once leave the country, but preached both in london and on the english border, while the new queen was settling herself on the throne. while within mary's reach, knox did not encourage resistance against that idolatress; he did not do so till he was safe in france. indeed, in his prayer used after the death of edward vi., before the fires of oxford and smithfield were lit, knox wrote: "illuminate the heart of our sovereign lady, queen mary, with pregnant gifts of the holy ghost. . . . repress thou the pride of those that would rebel. . . . mitigate the hearts of those that persecute us." in the autumn of , knox's health was very bad; he had gravel, and felt his bodily strength broken. moreover, he was in the disagreeable position of being betrothed to a very young lady, marjorie bowes, with the approval of her devout mother, the wife of richard bowes, commander of norham castle, near berwick, but to the anger and disgust of the bowes family in general. they by no means shared knox's ideas of religion, rather regarding him as a penniless unfrocked "scot runagate," whose alliance was discreditable and distasteful, and might be dangerous. "maist unpleasing words" passed, and it is no marvel that knox, being persecuted in one city, fled to another, leaving england for dieppe early in march . { } his conscience was not entirely at ease as to his flight. "why did i flee? assuredly i cannot tell, but of one thing i am sure, the fear of death was not the chief cause of my fleeing," he wrote to mrs. bowes from dieppe. "albeit that i have, in the beginning of this battle, appeared to play the faint-hearted and feeble soldier (the cause i remit to god), yet my prayer is that i may be restored to the battle again." { a} knox was, in fact, most valiant when he had armed men at his back; he had no enthusiasm for taking part in the battle when unaided by the arm of flesh. on later occasions this was very apparent, and he has confessed, as we saw, that he did not choose to face "the trouble to come" without means of retreat. his valour was rather that of the general than of the lonely martyr. the popular idea of knox's personal courage, said to have been expressed by the regent morton in the words spoken at his funeral, "here lieth a man who in his life never feared the face of man," is entirely erroneous. his learned and sympathetic editor, david laing, truly writes: "knox cannot be said to have possessed the impetuous and heroic boldness of a luther when surrounded with danger. . . . on more than one occasion knox displayed a timidity or shrinking from danger, scarcely to have been expected from one who boasted of his willingness to endure the utmost torture, or suffer death in his master's cause. happily he was not put to the test. . . ." { b} dr. laing puts the case more strongly than i feel justified in doing, for knox, far from "boasting of his willingness to face the utmost torture," more than once doubts his own readiness for martyrdom. we must remember that even blessed edmund campion, who went gaily to torture and death, had doubts as to the necessity of that journey. { c} nor was there any reason why knox should stay in england to be burned, if he could escape--with less than ten groats in his pocket--as he did. it is not for us moderns to throw the first stone at a reluctant martyr, still less to applaud useless self-sacrifice, but we do take leave to think that, having fled early, himself, from the martyr's crown, knox showed bad taste in his harsh invectives against protestants who, staying in england, conformed to the state religion under mary tudor. it is not impossible that his very difficult position as the lover of marjorie bowes--a position of which, while he remained in england, the burden fell on the poor girl--may have been one reason for knox's flight, while the entreaties of his friends that he would seek safety must have had their influence. on the whole it seems more probable that when he committed himself to matrimony with a young girl, the fifth daughter of mrs. bowes, he was approaching his fortieth rather than his fiftieth year. older than he are happy husbands made, sometimes, though marjorie bowes's choice may have been directed by her pious mother, whose soul could find no rest in the old faith, and not much in the new. at thirty-eight the reformer, we must remember, must have been no uncomely wooer. his conversation must have been remarkably vivid: he had adventures enough to tell, by land and sea; while such a voice as he raised withal in the pulpit, like edward irving, has always been potent with women, as sir walter scott remarks in irving's own case. his expression, says young, had a certain geniality; on the whole we need not doubt that knox could please when he chose, especially when he was looked up to as a supreme authority. he despised women in politics, but had many friends of the sex, and his letters to them display a manly tenderness of affection without sentimentality. writing to mrs. bowes from london in , knox mentions, as one of the sorrows of life, that "such as would most gladly remain together, for mutual comfort, cannot be suffered so to do. since the first day that it pleased the providence of god to bring you and me in familiarity, i have always delighted in your company." he then wanders into religious reflections, but we see that he liked mrs. bowes, and marjorie bowes too, no doubt: he is careful to style the elderly lady "mother." knox's letters to mrs. bowes show the patience and courtesy with which the reformer could comfort and counsel a middle-aged lady in trouble about her innocent soul. as she recited her infirmities, he reminds her, he "started back, and that is my common consuetude when anything pierces or touches my heart. call to your mind what i did standing at the cupboard at alnwick; in very deed i thought that no creature had been tempted as i was"--not by the charms of mrs. bowes, of course: he found that satan troubled the lady with "the very same words that he troubles me with." mrs. bowes, in truth, with premature scepticism, was tempted to think that "the scriptures of god are but a tale, and no credit to be given to them." the devil, she is reminded by knox, has induced "some philosophers to affirm that the world never had a beginning," which he refutes by showing that god predicted the pains of childbearing; and mrs. bowes, as the mother of twelve, knows how true _this_ is. the circular argument may or may not have satisfied mrs. bowes. { } the young object of knox's passion, marjorie bowes, is only alluded to as "she whom god hath offered unto me, and commanded me to love as my own flesh,"--after her, mrs. bowes is the dearest of mankind to knox. no mortal was ever more long-suffering with a spiritual hypochondriac, who avers that "the sins that reigned in sodom and gomore reign in me, and i have small power or none to resist!" knox replies, with common sense, that mrs. bowes is obviously ignorant of the nature of these offences. writing to his betrothed he says nothing personal: merely reiterates his lessons of comfort to her mother. meanwhile the lovers were parted, knox going abroad; and it is to be confessed that he was not eager to come back. chapter v: exile: appeals for a phinehas, and a jehu: no change of circumstances could be much more bitter than that which exile brought to knox. he had been a decently endowed official of state, engaged in bringing a reluctant country into the ecclesiastical fold which the state, for the hour, happened to prefer. his task had been grateful, and his congregations, at least at berwick and newcastle, had, as a rule, been heartily with him. wherever he preached, affectionate women had welcomed him and hung upon his words. the king and his ministers had hearkened unto him--young edward with approval, northumberland with such emotions as we may imagine--while the primate of england had challenged him to a competitive ordeal by fire, and had been defeated, apparently without recourse to the fire-test. but now all was changed; knox was a lonely rover in a strange land, supported probably by collections made among his english friends, and by the hospitality of the learned. in his wanderings his heart burned within him many a time, and he abruptly departed from his theory of passive resistance. now he eagerly desired to obtain, from protestant doctors and pontiffs, support for the utterly opposite doctrine of armed resistance. such support he did not get, or not in a satisfactory measure, so he commenced prophet on his own lines, and on his own responsibility. when knox's heart burned within him, he sometimes seized the pen and dashed off fiery tracts which occasionally caused inconvenience to the brethren, and trouble to himself in later years. in cooler moments, and when dubious or prosperous, he now and again displayed a calm opportunism much at odds with the inspirations of his grief and anger. after his flight to dieppe in march , knox was engaged, then, with a problem of difficulty, one of the central problems of his career and of the distracted age. in modern phrase, he wished to know how far, and in what fashion, persons of one religion might resist another religion, imposed upon them by the state of which they were subjects. on this point we have now no doubt, but in the sixteenth century "authority" was held sacred, and martyrdom, according to calvin, was to be preferred to civil war. if men were catholics, and if the state was protestant, they were liable, later, under knox, to fines, exile, and death; but power was not yet given to him. if they were protestants under a catholic ruler, or puritans under anglican authority, knox himself had laid down the rule of their conduct in his letter to his berwick congregation. { } "remembering always, beloved brethren, that due obedience be given to magistrates, rulers, and princes, without tumult, grudge, or sedition. for, howsoever wicked themselves be in life, or howsoever ungodly their precepts or commandments be, ye must obey them for conscience' sake; except in chief points of religion, and then ye ought rather to obey god than man: _not to pretend to defend god's truth or religion, ye being subjects, by violence or sword, but patiently suffering what god shall please be laid upon you for constant confession of your faith and belief_." man or angel who teaches contrary doctrine is corrupt of judgment, sent by god to blind the unworthy. and knox proceeded to teach contrary doctrine! his truly christian ideas are of date , with occasional revivals as opportunity suggested. in exile he was now asking ( ), how was a protestant minority or majority to oppose the old faith, backed by kings and princes, fire and sword? he answered the question in direct contradiction of his berwick programme: he was now all for active resistance. later, in addressing mary of guise, and on another occasion, he recurred to his berwick theory, and he always found biblical texts to support his contradictory messages. at this moment resistance seemed hopeless enough. in england the protestants of all shades were decidedly in a minority. they had no chance if they openly rose in arms; their only hope was in the death of mary tudor and the succession of elizabeth--itself a poor hope in the eyes of knox, who detested the idea of a female monarch. might they "bow down in the house of rimmon" by a feigned conformity? knox, in a letter to the faithful, printed in , entirely rejected this compromise, to which cecil stooped, thereby deserving hell, as the relentless knox (who had fled) later assured him. in the end of march , probably, knox left dieppe for geneva, where he could consult calvin, not yet secure in his despotism, though he had recently burned servetus. next he went to zurich, and laid certain questions before bullinger, who gave answers in writing as to knox's problems. could a woman rule a kingdom by divine right, and transfer the same to her husband?--mary tudor to philip of spain, is, of course, to be understood. bullinger replied that it was a hazardous thing for the godly to resist the laws of a country. philip the eunuch, though converted, did not drive queen candace out of ethiopia. if a tyrannous and ungodly queen reign, godly persons "have example and consolation in the case of athaliah." the transfer of power to a husband is an affair of the laws of the country. again, must a ruler who enforces "idolatry" be obeyed? may true believers, in command of garrisons, repel "this ungodly violence"? bullinger answered, in effect, that "it is very difficult to pronounce upon every particular case." he had not the details before him. in short, nothing definite was to be drawn out of bullinger. { a} dr. m'crie observes, indeed, that knox submitted to the learned of switzerland "certain difficult questions, which were suggested by the present condition of affairs in england, and about which his mind had been greatly occupied. their views with respect to these coinciding with his own, he was confirmed in the judgment which he had already formed for himself." { b} in fact, knox himself merely says that he had "reasoned with" pastors and the learned; he does not say that they agreed with him, and they certainly did not. despite the reserve of bullinger and of calvin, knox was of his new opinions still. these divines never backed his views. by may, knox had returned to dieppe, and published an epistle to the faithful. the rebellion of sir thomas wyatt had been put down, a blow to true religion. we have no evidence that knox stimulated the rising, but he alludes once to his exertions in favour of the princess elizabeth. the details are unknown. in july, apparently, knox printed his "faithful admonition to the professors of god's truth in england," and two editions of the tract were published in that country. the pamphlet is full of violent language about "the bloody, butcherly brood" of persecutors, and knox spoke of what might have occurred had the queen "been sent to hell before these days." the piece presents nothing, perhaps, so plain spoken about the prophet's right to preach treason as a passage in the manuscript of an earlier knoxian epistle of may to the faithful. "the prophets of god sometimes may teach treason against kings, and yet neither he, nor such as obey the word spoken in the lord's name by him, offends god." { } that sentence contains doctrine not submitted to bullinger by knox. he could not very well announce himself to bullinger as a "prophet of god." but the sentence, which occurs in manuscript copies of the letter of may , does not appear in the black letter printed edition. either knox or the publisher thought it too risky. in the published "admonition," however, of july , we find knox exclaiming: "god, for his great mercy's sake, stir up some phineas, helias, or jehu, that the blood of abominable idolaters may pacify god's wrath, that it consume not the whole multitude. amen." { a} this is a direct appeal to the assassin. if anybody will play the part of phinehas against "idolaters"--that is the queen of england and philip of spain--god's anger will be pacified. "delay not thy vengeance, o lord, but let death devour them in haste . . . for there is no hope of their amendment, . . . he shall send jehu to execute his just judgments against idolaters. jezebel herself shall not escape the vengeance and plagues that are prepared for her portion." { b} these passages are essential. professor hume brown expresses our own sentiments when he remarks: "in casting such a pamphlet into england at the time he did, knox indulged his indignation, in itself so natural under the circumstances, at no personal risk, while he seriously compromised those who had the strongest claims on his most generous consideration." this is plain truth, and when some of knox's english brethren later behaved to him in a manner which we must wholly condemn, their conduct, they said, had for a motive the mischief done to protestants in england by his fiery "admonition," and their desire to separate themselves from the author of such a pamphlet. knox did not, it will be observed, here call all or any of the faithful to a general massacre of their catholic fellow-subjects. he went to that length later, as we shall show. in an epistle of he only writes: "some shall demand, 'what then, shall we go and slay all idolaters?' _that_ were the office, dear brethren, of every civil magistrate within his realm. . . . the slaying of idolaters appertains not to every particular man." { c} this means that every protestant king should massacre all his inconvertible catholic subjects! this was indeed a counsel of perfection; but it could never be executed, owing to the carnal policy of worldly men. in writing about "the office of the civil magistrate," knox, a border scot of the age of the blood feud, seems to have forgotten, first, that the old testament prophets of the period were not unanimous in their applause of jehu's massacre of the royal family; next, that between the sixteenth century a.d. and jehu, had intervened the christian revelation. our lord had given no word of warrant to murder or massacre! no persecuted apostle had dealt in appeals to the dagger. as for jehu, a prophet had condemned _his_ conduct. hosea writes that the lord said unto him, "yet a little while, and i will avenge the blood of jezreel upon the house of jehu," but doubtless knox would have argued that hosea was temporarily uninspired, as he argued about st. paul and st. james later. however this delicate point may be settled, the appeal for a phinehas is certainly unchristian. the idolaters, the unreformed, might rejoice, with the nuncio of , that the duc de guise had a plan for murdering elizabeth, though it was not to be communicated to the vicar of god, who should have no such dealings against "that wicked woman." to some catholics, elizabeth: to knox, mary was as jezebel, and might laudably be assassinated. in idolaters nothing can surprise us; when persecuted they, in their unchristian fashion, may retort with the dagger or the bowl. but that knox should have frequently maintained the doctrine of death to religious opponents is a strange and deplorable circumstance. in reforming the church of christ he omitted some elements of christianity. suppose, for a moment, that in deference to the teaching of the gospel, knox had never called for a jehu, but had ever denounced, by voice and pen, those murderous deeds of his own party which he celebrates as "godly facts," he would have raised protestantism to a moral pre-eminence. dark pages of scottish history might never have been written: the consciences of men might have been touched, and the cruelties of the religious conflict might have been abated. many of them sprang from the fear of assassination. but knox in some of his writings identified his cause with the palace revolutions of an ancient oriental people. not that he was a man of blood; when in france he dissuaded kirkcaldy of grange and others from stabbing the gaolers in making their escape from prison. where idolaters in official position were concerned, and with a pen in his hand, he had no such scruples. he was a child of the old pre-christian scriptures; of the earlier, not of the later prophets. chapter vi: knox in the english puritan troubles at frankfort: - the consequences of the "admonition" came home to knox when english refugees in frankfort, impeded by him and others in the use of their liturgy, accused him of high treason against philip and mary, and the emperor, whom he had compared to nero as an enemy of christ. the affair of "the troubles at frankfort" brought into view the great gulf for ever fixed between puritanism and the church of england. it was made plain that knox and the anglican community were of incompatible temperaments, ideas, and, we may almost say, instincts. to anglicans like cranmer, knox, from the first, was as antipathetic as they were to him. "we can assure you," wrote some english exiles for religion's sake to calvin, "that that outrageous pamphlet of knox's" (his "admonition") "added much oil to the flame of persecution in england. for before the publication of that book not one of our brethren had suffered death; but as soon as it came forth we doubt not but you are well aware of the number of excellent men who have perished in the flames; to say nothing of how many other godly men have been exposed to the risk of all their property, and even life itself, on the sole ground of either having had this book in their possession or having read it." such were the charges brought against knox by these english protestant exiles, fleeing from the persecution that followed the "admonition," and, they say, took fresh ferocity from that tract. the quarrel between knox and them definitely marks the beginning of the rupture between the fathers of the church of england and the fathers of puritanism, scottish presbyterianism, and dissent. the representatives of puritans and of anglicans were now alike exiled, poor, homeless, without any abiding city. that they should instantly quarrel with each other over their prayer book (that which knox had helped to correct) was, as calvin told them, "extremely absurd." each faction probably foresaw--certainly knox's party foresaw--that, in the english congregation at frankfort, a little flock barely tolerated, was to be settled the character of protestantism in england, if ever england returned to protestantism. "this evil" (the acceptance of the english second book of prayer of edward vi.) "shall in time be established . . . and never be redressed, neither shall there for ever be an end of this controversy in england," wrote knox's party to the senate of frankfort. the religious disruption in england was, in fact, incurable, but so it would have been had the knoxians prevailed in frankfort. the difference between the churchman and the dissenter goes to the root of the english character; no temporary triumph of either side could have brought peace and union. while the world stands they will not be peaceful and united. the trouble arose thus. at the end of june , some english exiles of the puritan sort, men who objected to surplices, responses, kneeling at the communion, and other matters of equal moment, came to frankfort. they obtained leave to use the french protestant chapel, provided that they "should not dissent from the frenchmen in doctrine or ceremonies, lest they should thereby minister occasions of offence." they had then to settle what order of services they should use; "anything they pleased," said the magistrates of frankfort, "as long as they and the french kept the peace." they decided to adopt the english order, barring responses, the litany, the surplice, "and many other things." { } the litany was regarded by knox as rather of the nature of magic than of prayer, the surplice was a romish rag, and there was some other objection to the congregation's taking part in the prayers by responses, though they were not forbidden to mingle their voices in psalmody. dissidium valde absurdum--"a very absurd quarrel," among exiled fellow-countrymen, said calvin, was the dispute which arose on these points. the puritans, however, decided to alter the service to their taste, and enjoyed the use of the chapel. they had obtained a service which they were not likely to have been allowed to enforce in england had edward vi. lived; but on this point they were of another opinion. this success was providential. they next invited english exiles abroad to join them at frankfort, saying nothing about their mutilations of the service book. if these brethren came in, when they were all restored to england, if ever they were restored, their example, that of sufferers, would carry the day, and their service would for ever be that of the anglican church. the other exiled brethren, on receiving this invitation, had enough of the wisdom of the serpent to ask, "are we to be allowed to use our own prayer book?" the answer of the godly of frankfort evaded the question. at last the frankfort puritans showed their hand: they disapproved of various things in the prayer book. knox, summoned from geneva, a reluctant visitor, was already one of their preachers. in november came grindal, later archbishop of canterbury, from zurich, ready to omit some ceremonies, so that he and his faction might have "the substance" of the prayer book. negotiations went on, and it was proposed by the puritans to use the geneva service. but knox declined to do that, without the knowledge of the non-puritan exiles at zurich and elsewhere, or to use the english book, and offered his resignation. nothing could be more fair and above-board. there was an inchoate plan for a new order. that failed; and knox, with others, consulted calvin, giving him a sketch of the nature of the english service. they drew his attention to the surplice; the litany, "devised by pope gregory," whereby "we use a certain conjuring of god"; the kneeling at the communion; the use of the cross in baptism, and of the ring in marriage, clearly a thing of human, if not of diabolical invention, and the "imposition of hands" in confirmation. the churching of women, they said, is both pagan and jewish. "other things not so much shame itself as a certain kind of pity compelleth us to keep close." "the tone of the letter throughout was expressly calculated to prejudice calvin on the point submitted to him," says professor hume brown. { } calvin replied that the quarrel might be all very well if the exiles were happy and at ease in their circumstances, though in the liturgy, as described, there were "tolerable (endurable) follies." on the whole he sided with the knoxian party. the english liturgy is not pure enough; and the english exiles, not at frankfort, merely like it because they are accustomed to it. some are partial to "popish dregs." to the extreme reformers no break with the past could be too abrupt and precipitous: the framers of the english liturgy had rather adopted the principle of evolution than of development by catastrophe, and had wedded what was noblest in old latin forms and prayers to music of the choicest english speech. to this service, for which their fellow-religionists in england were dying at the stake, the non-frankfortian exiles were attached. they were englishmen; their service, they said, should bear "an english face": so knox avers, who could as yet have no patriotic love of any religious form as exclusively and essentially scottish. a kind of truce was now proclaimed, to last till may , ; knox aiding in the confection of a service without responses, "some part taken out of the english book, and other things put to," while calvin, bullinger, and three others were appointed as referees. the frankfort congregation had now a brief interval of provisional peace, till, on march , , richard cox, with a band of english refugees, arrived. he had been tutor to edward vi., the young marcellus of protestantism, but for frankfort he was not puritanic enough. his company would give a large majority to the anti-knoxian congregation. he and his at once uttered the responses, and on sunday one of them read the litany. this was an unruly infraction of the provisional agreement. cox and his party (april ) represented to calvin that they had given up surplices, crosses, and other things, "not as impure and papistical," but as indifferent, and for the sake of peace. this was after they had driven knox from the place, as they presently did; in the beginning it was distinctly their duty to give up the litany and responses, while the truce lasted, that is, till the end of april. in the afternoon of the sunday knox preached, denouncing the morning's proceedings, the "impurity" of the prayer book, of which "i once had a good opinion," and the absence, in england, of "discipline," that is, interference by preachers with private life. pluralities also he denounced, and some of the exiles had been pluralists. for all this knox was "very sharply reproved," as soon as he left the pulpit. two days later, at a meeting, he insisted that cox's people should have a vote in the congregation, thus making the anti-puritans a majority; knox's conduct was here certainly chivalrous: "i fear not your judgment," he said. he had never wished to go to frankfort; in going he merely obeyed calvin, and probably he had no great desire to stay. he was forbidden to preach by cox and his majority; and a later conference with cox led to no compromise. it seems probable that cox and the anti- puritans already cherished a grudge against knox for his tract, the "admonition." he had a warning that they would use the pamphlet against him, and he avers that "some devised how to have me cast into prison." the anti-puritans, admitting in a letter to calvin that they brought the "admonition" before the magistrates of frankfort as "a book which would supply their enemies with just ground for overturning the whole church, and one which had added much oil to the flame of persecution in england," deny that they desired more than that knox might be ordered to quit the place. the passages selected as treasonable in the "admonition" do not include the prayer for a jehu. they were enough, however, to secure the dismissal of knox from frankfort. cox had accepted the order used by the french protestant congregation, probably because it committed him and his party to nothing in england; however, knox had no sooner departed than the anti-puritans obtained leave to use, without surplice, cross, and some other matters, the second prayer book of edward vi. in september the puritans seceded, the anti- puritans remained, squabbling with the lutherans and among themselves. in the whole affair knox acted the most open and manly part; in his "history" he declines to name the opponents who avenged themselves, in a manner so dubious, on his "admonition." if they believed their own account of the mischief that it wrought in england, their denunciation of him to magistrates, who were not likely to do more than dismiss him, is the less inexcusable. they did not try to betray him to a body like the inquisition, as calvin did in the case of servetus. but their conduct was most unworthy and unchivalrous. { } chapter vii: knox in scotland: lethington: mary of guise: - meanwhile the reformer returned to geneva (april ), where calvin was now supreme. from geneva, "the den of mine own ease, the rest of quiet study," knox was dragged, "maist contrarious to mine own judgement," by a summons from mrs. bowes. he did not like leaving his "den" to rejoin his betrothed; the lover was not so fervent as the evangelist was cautious. knox had at that time probably little correspondence with scotland. he knew that there was no refuge for him in england under mary tudor, "who nowise may abide the presence of god's prophets." in scotland, at this moment, the government was in the hands of mary of guise, a sister of the duke of guise and of the cardinal. mary was now aged forty; she was born in , as knox probably was. she was a tall and stately woman; her face was thin and refined; henry viii., as being himself a large man, had sought her hand, which was given to his nephew, james v. on the death of that king, mary, with cardinal beaton, kept scotland true to the french alliance, and her daughter, the fair queen of scots, was at this moment a child in france, betrothed to the dauphin. as a catholic, of the house of lorraine, mary could not but cleave to her faith and to the french alliance. in she had managed to oust from the regency the earl of arran, the head of the all but royal hamiltons, now gratified with the french title of duc de chatelherault. to crown her was as seemly a thing, says knox, "if men had but eyes, as a saddle upon the back of ane unrewly kow." she practically deposed huntly, the most treacherous of men, from the chancellorship, substituting, with more or less reserve, a frenchman, de rubay; and d'oysel, the commander of the french troops in scotland, was her chief adviser. [picture of king james v and mary of guise: knox .jpg] writing after the death of mary of guise, knox avers that she only waited her chance "to cut the throats of all those in whom she suspected the knowledge of god to be, within the realm of scotland." { } as a matter of fact, the regent later refused a french suggestion that she should peacefully call protestants together, and then order a massacre after the manner of the bartholomew: itself still in the womb of the future. "mary of guise," says knox's biographer, professor hume brown, "had the instincts of a good ruler--the love of order and justice, and the desire to stand well with the people." knox, however, believed, or chose to say, that she wanted to cut all protestant throats, just as he believed that a protestant king should cut all catholic throats. he attributed to her, quite erroneously and uncharitably, his own unsparing fervour. as he held this view of her character and purposes, it is not strange that a journey to scotland was "contrairious to his judgement." he did not understand the situation. ferocious as had been the english invasion of scotland in , the english party in scotland, many of them paid traitors, did not resent these "rebukes of a friend," so much as both the nobles and the people now began to detest their french allies, and were jealous of the queen mother's promotion of frenchmen. there were not, to be sure, many scots whom she, or any one, could trust. some were honestly protestant: some held pensions from england: others would sacrifice national interests to their personal revenges and clan feuds. the rev. the lord james stewart, mary's bastard brother, prior of st. andrews and of pittenweem, was still very young. he had no interest in his clerical profession beyond drawing his revenues as prior of two abbeys; and his nearness to the crown caused him to be suspected of ambition: moreover, he tended towards the new ideas in religion. he had met knox in london, apparently in . morton was a mere wavering youth; argyll was very old: chatelherault was a rival of the regent, a competitor for the crown and quite incompetent. the regent, in short, could scarcely have discovered a scottish adviser worthy of employment, and when she did trust one, he was the brilliant "chamaeleon," young maitland of lethington, who would rather betray his master cleverly than run a straight course, and did betray the regent. thus mary, a frenchwoman and a catholic, governing scotland for her catholic daughter, the dauphiness, with the aid of a few french troops who had just saved the independence of the country, naturally employed french advisers. this made her unpopular; her attempts to bring justice into scottish courts were odious, and she would not increase the odium by persecuting the protestants. the duke's bastard brother, again, the archbishop, sharing his family ambition, was in no mood for burning heretics. the queen mother herself carried conciliation so far as to pardon and reinstate such trebly dyed traitors as the notorious crichton of brunston, and she employed kirkcaldy of grange, who intrigued against her while in her employment. an edinburgh tailor, harlaw, who seems to have been a deacon in english orders, was allowed to return to scotland in . he became a very notable preacher. { a} going from mrs. bowes's house to edinburgh, knox found that "the fervency" of the godly "did ravish him." at the house of one syme "the trumpet blew the auld sound three days thegither," he informed mrs. bowes, and knox himself was the trumpeter. he found another lady, "who, by reason that she had a troubled conscience, delighted much in the company of the said john." there were pleasant sisters in edinburgh, who later consulted knox on the delicate subject of dress. he was more tolerant in answering them than when he denounced "the stinking pride of women" at mary stuart's court; admitting that "in clothes, silks, velvets, gold, and other such, there is no uncleanness," yet "i cannot praise the common superfluity which women now use in their apparel." he was quite opposed, however, to what he pleasingly calls "correcting natural beauty" (as by dyeing the hair), and held that "farthingales cannot be justified." on the whole, he left the sisters fairly free to dress as they pleased. his curious phrase, { b} in a letter to a pair of sisters, "the prophets of god are often impeded to pray for such as carnally they love unfeignedly," is difficult to understand. we leave it to the learned to explain this singular limitation of the prophet, which knox says that he had not as yet experienced. he must have heard about it from other prophets. knox found at this time a patron remarkable, says dr. m'crie, "for great respectability of character," erskine of dun. born in , about he slew a priest named thomas froster, in a curiously selected place, the belfry tower of montrose. nobody seems to have thought anything of it, nor should we know the fact, if the record of the blood-price paid by mr. erskine to the priest's father did not testify to the fervent act. six years later, according to knox, "god had marvellously illuminated" erskine, and the mildness of his nature is frequently applauded. he was, for scotland, a man of learning, and our first amateur of greek. why did he kill a priest in a bell tower! in the winter or autumn of , erskine gave a supper, where knox was to argue against crypto-protestantism. when once the truth, whether anglican or presbyterian, was firmly established, catholics were compelled, under very heavy fines, to attend services and sermons which they believed to be at least erroneous, if not blasphemous. i am not aware that, in , the catholic church, in scotland, thus vigorously forced people of protestant opinions to present themselves at mass, punishing nonconformity with ruin. i have not found any complaints to this effect, at that time. but no doubt an appearance of conformity might save much trouble, even in the lenient conditions produced by the character of the regent and by the political situation. knox, then, discovered that "divers who had a zeal to godliness made small scruple to go to the mass, or to communicate with the abused sacraments in the papistical manner." he himself, therefore, "began to show the impiety of the mass, and how dangerous a thing it was to communicate in any sort with idolatry." now to many of his hearers this essential article of his faith--that the catholic doctrine of the eucharist and form of celebration were "idolatry"--may have been quite a new idea. it was already, however, a commonplace with anglican protestants. nothing of the sort was to be found in the _first_ prayer book of edward vi.; broken lights of various ways of regarding the sacrament probably played, at this moment, over the ideas of knox's scottish disciples. indeed, their consciences appear to have been at rest, for it was _after_ knox's declaration about the "idolatrous" character of the mass that "the matter began to be agitated from man to man, the conscience of some being afraid." to us it may seem that the sudden denunciation of a christian ceremony, even what may be deemed a perverted christian ceremony, as sheer "idolatry," equivalent to the worship of serpents, bulls, or of a foreign baal in ancient israel--was a step calculated to confuse the real issues and to provoke a religious war of massacre. knox, we know, regarded extermination of idolaters as a counsel of perfection, though in the christian scriptures not one word could be found to justify his position. he relied on texts about massacring amalekites and about elijah's slaughter of the prophets of baal. the mass was idolatry, was baal worship; and baal worshippers, if recalcitrant, must die. these extreme unchristian ideas, then, were new in scotland, even to "divers who had a zeal to godliness." for their discussion, at erskine of dun's party, were present, among others, willock, a scots preacher returned from england, and young maitland of lethington. we are not told what part willock took in the conversation. the arguments turned on biblical analogies, never really coincident with the actual modern circumstances. the analogy produced in discussion by those who did not go to all extremes with knox did not, however, lack appropriateness. christianity, in fact, as they seem to have argued, did arise out of judaism; retaining the same god and the same scriptures, but, in virtue of the sacrifice of its founder, abstaining from the sacrifices and ceremonial of the law. in the same way protestantism arose out of mediaeval catholicism, retaining the same god and the same scriptures, but rejecting the mediaeval ceremonial and the mediaeval theory of the sacrifice of the mass. it did not follow that the mass was sheer "idolatry," at which no friend of the new ideas could be present. as a proof that such presence or participation was not unlawful, was not idolatry, in the existing state of affairs, was adduced the conduct of st. paul and the advice given to him by st. james and the church in jerusalem (acts xxi. - ). paul was informed that many thousands of jews "believed," yet remained zealous for the law, the old order. they had learned that paul advised the jews in greece and elsewhere not to "walk after the customs." paul should prove that "he also kept the law." for this purpose he, with four christian jews under a vow, was to purify himself, and he went into the temple, "until that an offering should be offered for every one of them." "offerings," of course, is the term in our version for sacrifices, whether of animals or of "unleavened wafers anointed with oil." the argument from analogy was, i infer, that the mass, with its wafer, was precisely such an "offering," such a survival in catholic ritual, as in jewish ritual st. paul consented to, by the advice of the church of jerusalem; consequently protestants in a catholic country, under the existing circumstances, might attend the mass. the mass was not "idolatry." the analogy halts, like all analogies, but so, of course, and to fatal results, does knox's analogy between the foreign worships of israel and the mass. "she thinks not _that_ idolatry, but good religion," said lethington to knox once, speaking of queen mary's mass. "so thought they that offered their children unto moloch," retorted the reformer. manifestly the mass is, of the two, much more on a level with the "offering" of st. paul than with human sacrifices to moloch! { } in his reply knox, as he states his own argument, altogether overlooked the _offering_ of st. paul, which, as far as we understand, was the essence of his opponents' contention. he said that "to pay _vows_ was never idolatry," but "the mass from the original was and remained odious idolatry, therefore the facts were most unlike. secondly, i greatly doubt whether either james's commandment or paul's obedience proceeded from the holy ghost," about which knox was, apparently, better informed than these apostles and the church of jerusalem. next, paul was presently in danger from a mob, which had been falsely told that he took greeks into the temple. hence it was manifest "that god approved not that means of reconciliation." obviously the danger of an apostle from a misinformed mob is no sort of evidence to divine approval or disapproval of his behaviour. { } we shall later find that when knox was urging on some english nonconformists the beauty of conformity ( ), he employed the very precedent of st. paul's conduct at jerusalem, which he rejected when it was urged at erskine's supper party! we have dwelt on this example of knox's logic, because it is crucial. the reform of the church of christ could not be achieved without cruel persecution on both parts, while knox was informing scotland that all members of the old faith were as much idolaters as israelites who sacrificed their children to a foreign god, while to extirpate idolaters was the duty of a christian prince. lethington, as he soon showed, was as clear-sighted in regard to knox's logical methods as any man of to- day, but he "concluded, saying, i see perfectly that our shifts will serve nothing before god, seeing that they stand us in so small stead before man." but either lethington conformed and went to mass, or mary of guise expected nothing of the sort from him, for he remained high in her favour, till he betrayed her in . knox's opinion being accepted--it obviously was a novelty to many of his hearers--the reformers must either convert or persecute the catholics even to extermination. circumstances of mere worldly policy forbade the execution of this counsel of perfection, but persistent "idolaters," legally, lay after under sentence of death. there was to come a moment, we shall see, when even knox shrank from the consequences of a theory ("a murderous syllogism," writes one of his recent biographers, mr. taylor innes), which divided his countrymen into the godly, on one hand, and idolaters doomed to death by divine law, on the other. but he put his hesitation behind him as a suggestion of satan. knox now associated with lord erskine, then governor of edinburgh castle, the central strength of scotland; with lord lorne, soon to be earl of argyll (a "christian," but not a remarkably consistent walker), with "lord james," the natural brother of queen mary (whose conscience, as we saw, permitted him to draw the benefices of the abbacy of st. andrews, of pittenweem, and of an abbey in france, without doing any duties), and with many redoubtable lairds of the lothians, ayrshire, and forfarshire. he also preached for ten days in the town house, at edinburgh, of the bishop of dunkeld. on may , , he was summoned to appear in the church of the black friars. as he was backed by erskine of dun, and other gentlemen, according to the scottish custom when legal proceedings were afoot, no steps were taken against him, the clergy probably dreading knox's defenders, as bothwell later, in similar circumstances, dreaded the assemblage under the earl of moray; as lennox shrank from facing the supporters of bothwell, and moray from encountering the spears of lethington's allies. it was usual to overawe the administrators of justice by these gatherings of supporters, perhaps a survival of the old "compurgators." this, in fact, was "part of the obligation of our scottish kyndness," and the divided ecclesiastical and civil powers shrank from a conflict. glencairn and the earl marischal, in the circumstances, advised knox to write a letter to mary of guise, "something that might move her to hear the word of god," that is, to hear knox preach. this letter, as it then stood, was printed in a little black-letter volume, probably of . knox addresses the regent and queen mother as "her humble subject." the document has an interest almost pathetic, and throws light on the whole character of the great reformer. it appears that knox had been reported to the regent by some of the clergy, or by rumour, as a heretic and seducer of the people. but knox had learned that the "dew of the heavenly grace" had quenched her displeasure, and he hoped that the regent would be as clement to others in his case as to him. therefore he returns to his attitude in the letter to his berwick congregation ( ). he calls for no jehu, he advises no armed opposition to the sovereign, but says of "god's chosen children" (the protestants), that "their victory standeth not in resisting but in suffering," "in quietness, silence, and hope," as the prophet isaiah recommends. the isaiahs (however numerous modern criticism may reckon them) were late prophets, not of the school of elijah, whom knox followed in and - , not in or , or on one occasion in - . "the elect of god" do not "shed blood and murder," knox remarks, though he approves of the elect, of the brethren at all events, when they _do_ murder and shed blood. meanwhile knox is more than willing to run the risks of the preacher of the truth, "partly because i would, with st. paul, wish myself accursed from christ, as touching earthly pleasures" (whatever that may mean), "for the salvation of my brethren and illumination of your grace." he confesses that the regent is probably not "so free as a public reformation perhaps would require," for that required the downcasting of altars and images, and prohibition to celebrate or attend catholic rites. thus knox would, apparently, be satisfied for the moment with toleration and immunity for his fellow-religionists. nothing of the sort really contented him, of course, but at present he asked for no more. yet, a few days later, he writes, the regent handed his letter to the archbishop of glasgow, saying, "please you, my lord, to read a pasquil," an offence which knox never forgave and bitterly avenged in his "history." it is possible that the regent merely glanced at his letter. she would find herself alluded to in a biblical parallel with "the egyptian midwives," with nebuchadnezzar, and rahab the harlot. her acquaintance with these amiable idolaters may have been slight, but the comparison was odious, and far from tactful. knox also reviled the creed in which she had been bred as "a poisoned cup," and threatened her, if she did not act on his counsel, with "torment and pain everlasting." those who drink of the cup of her church "drink therewith damnation and death." as for her clergy, "proud prelates do kings maintain to murder the souls for which the blood of christ jesus was shed." these statements were dogmatic, and the reverse of conciliatory. one should not, in attempting to convert any person, begin by reviling his religion. knox adopted the same method with mary stuart: the method is impossible. it is not to be marvelled at if the regent did style the letter a "pasquil." knox took his revenge in his "history" by repeating a foolish report that mary of guise had designed to poison her late husband, james v. "many whisper that of old his part was in the pot, and that the suspicion thereof caused him to be inhibited the queen's company, while the cardinal got his secret business sped of that gracious lady either by day or night." { a} he styled her, as we saw, "a wanton widow"; he hinted that she was the mistress of cardinal beaton; he made similar insinuations about her relations with d'oysel (who was "a secretis mulierum"); he said, as we have seen, that she only waited her chance to cut the throats of all suspected protestants; he threw doubt on the legitimacy of her daughter, mary stuart; and he constantly accuses her of treachery, as will appear, when the charge is either doubtful, or, as far as i can ascertain, absolutely false. these are unfortunately examples of knox's christianity. { b} it is very easy for modern historians and biographers to speak with genial applause of the prophet's manly bluffness. but if we put ourselves in the position of opponents whom he was trying to convert, of the two marys for example, we cannot but perceive that his method was hopelessly mistaken. in attempting to evangelise an euahlayi black fellow, we should not begin by threats of damnation, and by railing accusations against his god, baiame. chapter viii: knox's writings from abroad: beginning of the scottish revolution, - knox was about this time summoned to be one of the preachers to the english at geneva. he sent in advance mrs. bowes and his wife, visited argyll and glenorchy (now breadalbane), wrote (july ) an epistle bidding the brethren be diligent in reading and discussing the bible, and went abroad. his effigy was presently burned by the clergy, as he had not appeared in answer to a second summons, and he was outlawed in absence. it is not apparent that knox took any part in the english translation of the bible, then being executed at geneva. greek and hebrew were not his forte, though he had now some knowledge of both tongues, but he preached to the men who did the work. the perfections of genevan church discipline delighted him. "manners and religion so sincerely reformed i have not yet seen in any other place." the genius of calvin had made geneva a kind of protestant city state [greek text]; a calvinistic utopia--everywhere the vigilant eyes of the preachers and magistrates were upon every detail of daily life. monthly and weekly the magistrates and ministers met to point out each other's little failings. knox felt as if he were indeed in the city of god, and later he introduced into scotland, and vehemently abjured england to adopt, the genevan "discipline." england would none of it, and would not, even in the days of the solemn league and covenant, suffer the excommunication by preachers to pass without lay control. it is unfortunate that the ecclesiastical polity and discipline of a small city state, like a greek [greek word polis], feasible in such a community as geneva at a moment of spiritual excitement, was brought by knox and his brethren into a nation like scotland. the results were a hundred and twenty-nine years of unrest, civil war, and persecution. though happy in the affection of his wife and mrs. bowes, knox, at this time, needed more of feminine society. on november , , he wrote to his friend, mrs. locke, wife of a cheapside merchant: "you write that your desire is earnest to see me. dear sister, if i should express the thirst and languor which i have had for your presence, i should appear to pass measure. . . . your presence is so dear to me that if the charge of this little flock . . . did not impede me, my presence should anticipate my letter." thus knox was ready to brave the fires of smithfield, or, perhaps, forgot them for the moment in his affection for mrs. locke. he writes to no other woman in this fervid strain. on may , , mrs. locke with her son and daughter (who died after her journey), joined knox at geneva. { } he was soon to be involved in scottish affairs. after his departure from his country, omens and prodigies had ensued. a comet appeared in november-december . next year some corn-stacks were destroyed by lightning. worse, a calf with two heads was born, and was exhibited as a warning to mary of guise by robert ormistoun. the idolatress merely sneered, and said "it was but a common thing." such a woman was incorrigible. mary of guise is always blamed for endangering scotland in the interests of her family, the guises of the house of lorraine. in fact, so far as she tried to make scotland a province of france, she was serving the ambition of henri ii. it could not be foreseen, in , that henri ii. would be slain in , leaving the two kingdoms in the hands of francis ii. and mary stuart, who were so young, that they would inevitably be ruled by the queen's uncles of the house of lorraine. shortly before knox arrived in scotland in , the duc de guise had advised the regent to "use sweetness and moderation," as better than "extremity and rigour"; advice which she acted on gladly. unluckily the war between france and spain, in , brought english troops into collision with french forces in the low countries (philip ii. being king of england); this led to complications between scotland, as ally of france, and the english on the borders. border raids began; d'oysel fortified eyemouth, as a counterpoise to berwick, war was declared in november, and the discontented scots, such as chatelherault, huntly, cassilis, and argyll, mutinied and refused to cross tweed. { } thus arose a breach between the regent and some of her nobles, who at last, in , rebelled against her on the ground of religion. while the weak war languished on, in - , "the evangel of jesus christ began wondrously to flourish," says knox. other evangelists of his pattern, harlaw, douglas, willock, and a baker, methuen (later a victim of the intolerably cruel "discipline" of the kirk triumphant), preached at dundee, and methuen started a reformed kirk (though not without being declared rebels at the horn). when these persons preached, their hearers were apt to raise riots, wreck churches, and destroy works of sacred art. no government could for ever wink at such lawless actions, and it was because the pulpiteers, methuen, willock, douglas, and the rest, were again "put at," after being often suffered to go free, that the final crash came, and the reformation began in the wrack and ruin of monasteries and churches. there was drawing on another thunder-cloud. the policy of mary of guise certainly tended to make scotland a mere province of france, a province infested by french forces, slender, but ill-paid and predacious. before marrying the dauphin, in april , mary stuart, urged it is said by the guises, signed away the independence of her country, to which her husband, by these deeds, was to succeed if she died without issue. young as she was, mary was perfectly able to understand the infamy of the transaction, and probably was not so careless as to sign the deeds unread. even before this secret treaty was drafted, on march , , glencairn, lorne, erskine, and the prior of st. andrews--best known to us in after years as james stewart, earl of moray--informed knox that no "cruelty" by way of persecution was being practised; that his presence was desired, and that they were ready to jeopard their lives and goods for the cause. the rest would be told to knox by the bearer of the letter. knox received the letter in may , with verbal reports by the bearers, but was so far from hasty that he did not leave geneva till the end of september, and did not reach dieppe on his way to scotland till october . three days later he wrote to the nobles who had summoned him seven months earlier. he had received, he said, at dieppe two private letters of a discouraging sort; one correspondent said that the enterprise was to be reconsidered, the other that the boldness and constancy required "for such an enterprise" were lacking among the nobles. meanwhile knox had spent his time, or some of it, in asking the most godly and the most learned of europe, including calvin, for opinions of such an adventure, for the assurance of his own conscience and the consciences of the lord james, erskine, lorne, and the rest. { a} this indicates that knox himself was not quite sure of the lawfulness of an armed rising, and perhaps explains his long delay. knox assures us that calvin and other godly ministers insisted on his going to scotland. but it is quite certain that of an armed rising calvin absolutely disapproved. on april , , writing to coligny, calvin says that he was consulted several months before the tumult of amboise (march ) and absolutely discouraged the appeal to arms. "better that we all perish a hundred times than that the name of christianity and the gospel should come under such disgrace." { b} if calvin bade knox go to scotland, he must have supposed that no rebellion was intended. knox tells his correspondents that they have betrayed themselves and their posterity ("in conscience i can except none that bear the name of nobility"), they have made him and their own enterprise ridiculous, and they have put him to great trouble. what is he to say when he returns to geneva, and is asked why he did not carry out his purpose? he then encourages them to be resolute. knox "certainly made the most," says professor hume brown, "of the two letters from correspondents unknown to us." he at once represented them as the cause of his failure to keep tryst; but, in april , writing from geneva to "the sisters," he said, "the cause of my stop to this day i do not clearly understand." he did not know why he left england before the marian persecutions; and he did not know why he had not crossed over to scotland in . "it may be that god justly permitted sathan to put in my mind such cogitations as these: i heard such troubles as appeared in that realm;"--troubles presently to be described. hearing, at dieppe, then, in october , of the troubles, and of the faint war with england, and moved, perhaps, he suggests, by satan, { a} knox "began to dispute with himself, as followeth, 'shall christ, the author of peace, concord, and quietness, be preached where war is proclaimed, and tumults appear to rise? what comfort canst thou have to see the one part of the people rise up against the other,'" and so forth. these truly christian reflections, as we may think them, "yet do trouble and move my wicked heart," says knox. he adds, hypothetically, that perhaps the letters received at dieppe "did somewhat discourage me." { b} he was only certain that the devil was at the bottom of the whole affair. the "tumults that appear to arise" are probably the dissensions between the regent and the mutinous nobles who refused to invade england at her command. d'oysel needed a bodyguard; and he feared that the lords would seize and carry off the regent. arran, in , speaks of a plot to capture her in holyrood. here were promises of tumults. there were also signs of a renewed feud between the house of hamilton and the stewart earl of lennox, the rival claimant of the crown. there seems, moreover, to have been some tumultuary image-breaking. { } knox may have been merely timid: he is not certain, but his delay passed in consulting the learned, for the satisfaction of his conscience, and his confessed doubts as to whether christianity should be pushed by civil war, seem to indicate that he was not always the prophet patron of modern jehus, that he did, occasionally, consult the gospel as well as the records of pre-christian israel. the general result was that, from october to march , knox stayed in dieppe, preaching with great success, raising up a protestant church, and writing. his condition of mind was unenviable. he had been brought all the way across france, leaving his wife and family; he had, it seems, been met by no letters from his noble friends, who may well have ceased to expect him, so long was his delay. he was not at ease in his conscience, for, to be plain, he was not sure that he was not afraid to risk himself in scotland, and he was not certain that his new scruples about the justifiableness of a rising for religion were not the excuses suggested by his own timidity. perhaps they were just that, not whisperings either of conscience or of satan. yet in this condition knox was extremely active. on december and he wrote, from dieppe, a "letter to his brethren in scotland," and another to "the lords and others professing the truth in scotland." in the former he censures, as well he might, "the dissolute life of (some) such as have professed christ's holy evangel." that is no argument, he says, against protestantism. many turks are virtuous; many orthodox hebrews, saints, and patriarchs occasionally slipped; the corinthians, though of a "trew kirk," were notoriously profligate. meanwhile union and virtue are especially desirable; for satan "fiercely stirreth his terrible tail." we do not know what back-slidings of the brethren prompted this letter. the lords, in the other letter, are reminded that they had resolved to hazard life, rank, and fortune for the delivery of the brethren: the first step must be to achieve a godly frame of mind. knox hears rumours "that contradiction and rebellion is made by some to the authority" in scotland. he advises "that none do suddenly disobey or displease the established authority in things lawful," nor rebel from private motives. by "things lawful" does he mean the command of the regent to invade england, which the nobles refused to do? they may "lawfully attempt the extremity," if authority will not cease to persecute, and permit protestant preaching and administration of the sacraments (which usually ended in riot and church-wrecking). above all, they are not to back the hamiltons, whose chief, chatelherault, had been a professor, had fallen back, and become a persecutor. "flee all confederacy with that generation," the hamiltons; with whom, after all, knox was presently to be allied, though by no means fully believing in the "unfeigned and speedy repentance" of their chief. { a} all the movements of that time are not very clear. apparently lorne, lord james, and the rest, in their letter of march , , intended an armed rising: they were "ready to jeopardise lives and goods" for "the glory of god." if no more than an appeal to "the authority" for tolerance was meant, why did knox consult the learned so long, on the question of conscience? yet, in december , he bids his allies first of all seek the favour of "the authority," for bare toleration of protestantism. from the scheme of march , of which the details, unknown to us, were _orally_ delivered by bearer, he appears to have expected civil war. again, just when knox was writing to scotland in december , his allies there, he says, made "a common band," a confederacy and covenant such as the scots usually drew up before a murder, as of riccio or darnley, or for slaying argyll and "the bonny earl o' murray," under james vi. these bands were illegal. a band, says knox, was now signed by argyll, lorne, glencairn, morton, and erskine of dun, and many others unknown, on december , . it is alleged that "satan cruelly doth rage." now, how was satan raging in december ? myln, the last martyr, was not pursued till april , by knox's account. the first godly band being of december , { b} and drawn up, perhaps, on the impulse of knox's severe letter from dieppe of october , in that year; just after they signed the band, what were the demands of the banders? they asked, apparently, that the second prayer book of edward vi. should be read in all parish churches, with the lessons: _if the curates are able to read_: if not, then by any qualified parishioner. secondly, preaching must be permitted in private houses, "without great conventions of the people." { a} whether the catholic service was to be concurrently permitted does not appear; it is not very probable, for that service is idolatrous, and the band itself denounces the church as "the congregation of satan." dr. m'crie thinks that the banders, or congregation of god, did not ask for the universal adoption of the english prayer book, but only requested that they themselves might bring it in "in places to which their authority and influence extended." they took that liberty, certainly, without waiting for leave, but their demand appears to apply to all parish churches. war, in fact, was denounced against satan's congregation; { b} if it troubles the lords' congregation, there could therefore be little idea of tolerating their nefarious creed and ritual. probably knox, at dieppe in and early in , did not know about the promising band made in scotland. he was composing his "first blast of the trumpet against the monstrous regiment of women." in england and in scotland were a catholic queen, a catholic queen mother, and the queen of scotland was marrying the idolatrous dauphin. it is not worth while to study knox's general denunciation of government by ladies: he allowed that (as calvin suggested) miraculous exceptions to their inability might occur, as in the case of deborah. as a rule, a queen was an "idol," and that was enough. england deserved an idol, and an idolatrous idol, for englishmen rejected kirk discipline; "no man would have his life called in trial" by presbyter or preacher. a queen regnant has, ex officio, committed treason against god: the realm and estates may have conspired with her, but her rule is unlawful. naturally this skirl on the trumpet made knox odious to elizabeth, for to impeach her succession might cause a renewal of the wars of the roses. nothing less could have happened, if a large portion of the english people had believed in the prophet of god, john knox. he could predict vengeance on mary tudor, but could not see that, as elizabeth would succeed, his blast would bring inconvenience to his cause; or, seeing it, he stood to his guns. he presently reprinted and added to his letter to mary of guise, arguing that civil magistrates have authority in religion, but, of course, he must mean only as far as they carry out his ideas, which are the truth. in an "appellation" against the condemnation of himself, in absence, by the scottish clergy, he labours the same idea. moreover, "no idolater can be exempted from punishment by god's law." now the queen of scotland happened to be an idolater, and every true believer, as a private individual, has a right to punish idolaters. that right and duty are not limited to the king, or to "the chief nobility and estates," whom knox addresses. "i would your honours should note for the first, that no idolater can be exempted from punishment by god's law. the second is, that the punishment of such crimes as are idolatry, blasphemy, and others, that touch the majesty of god, doth not appertain to kings and chief rulers only" (as he had argued that they do, in ), "but also to the whole body of that people, and to every member of the same, according to the vocation of every man, and according to that possibility and occasion which god doth minister to revenge the injury done against his glory, what time that impiety is manifestly known. . . . _who dare be so impudent as to deny this to be most reasonable and just_?" { } knox's method of argument for his doctrine is to take, among other texts, deuteronomy xiii. - , and apply the sanguinary precepts of hebrew fanatics to the then existing state of affairs in the church christian. thus, in deuteronomy, cities which serve "other gods," or welcome missionaries of other religions, are to be burned, and every living thing in them is to be destroyed. "to the carnal man, . . . " says knox, "this may rather seem to be pronounced in a rage than in wisdom." god wills, however, that "all creatures stoop, cover their faces, _and desist from reasoning_, when commandment is given to execute his judgement." knox, then, desists from reasoning so far as to preach that every protestant, with a call that way, has a right to punish any catholic, if he gets a good opportunity. this doctrine he publishes to his own countrymen. thus any fanatic who believed in the prophet knox, and was conscious of a "vocation," might, and should, avenge god's wrongs on mary of guise or mary stuart, "he had a fair opportunity, for both ladies were idolaters. this is a plain inference from the passage just cited. appealing to the commonalty of scotland, knox next asked that he might come and justify his doctrine, and prove popery "abominable before god." now, could any government admit a man who published the tidings that any member of a state might avenge god on an idolater, the queen being, according to him, an idolater? this doctrine of the right of the protestant individual is merely monstrous. knox has wandered far from his counsel of "passive resistance" in his letter to his berwick congregation; he has even passed beyond his "admonition," which merely prayed for a phinehas or jehu: he has now proclaimed the right and duty of the private protestant assassin. the "appellation" containing these ideas was published at geneva in , with the author's, but without the printer's name on the title-page. "the first blast" had neither the author's nor printer's name, nor the name of the place of publication. calvin soon found that it had given grave offence to queen elizabeth. he therefore wrote to cecil that, though the work came from a press in his town, he had not been aware of its existence till a year after its publication. he now took no public steps against the book, not wishing to draw attention to its origin in geneva, lest, "by reason of the reckless arrogance of one man" ('the ravings of others'), "the miserable crowd of exiles should have been driven away, not only from this city, but even from almost the whole world." { } as far as i am aware, no one approached calvin with remonstrance about the monstrosities of the "appellation," nor are the passages which i have cited alluded to by more than one biographer of knox, to my knowledge. professor hume brown, however, justly remarks that what the kirk, immediately after knox's death, called "erastianism" (in ordinary parlance the doctrine that the civil power may interfere in religion) could hardly "be approved in more set terms" than by knox. he avers that "the ordering and reformation of religion . . . doth especially appertain to the civil magistrate . . . " "the king taketh upon him to command the priests." { } the opposite doctrine, that it appertains to the church, is an invention of satan. to that diabolical invention, andrew melville and the kirk returned in the generation following, while james vi. held to knox's theory, as stated in the "appellation." the truth is that knox contemplates a state in which the civil power shall be entirely and absolutely of his own opinions; the king, as "christ's silly vassal," to quote andrew melville, being obedient to such prophets as himself. the theories of knox regarding the duty to revenge god's feud by the private citizen, and regarding religious massacre by the civil power, ideas which would justify the bartholomew horrors, appear to be forgotten in modern times. his address to the commonalty, as citizens with a voice in the state, represents the progressive and permanent element in his politics. we have shown, however, that, before knox's time, the individual scot was a thoroughly independent character. "the man hath more words than the master, and will not be content unless he knows the master's counsel." by march , knox had returned from dieppe to geneva. in scotland, since the godly band of december , events were moving in two directions. the church was continuing in a belated and futile attempt at reformation of manners (and wonderfully bad manners they confessedly were), and of education from within. the congregation, the protestants, on the other hand, were preparing openly to defend themselves and their adherents from persecution, an honest, manly, and laudable endeavour, so long as they did not persecute other christians. their preachers--such as harlaw, methuen, and douglas--were publicly active. a moment of attempted suppression must arrive, greatly against the personal wishes of archbishop hamilton, who dreaded the conflict. in march , hamilton courteously remonstrated with argyll for harbouring douglas. he himself was "heavily murmured against" for his slackness in the case of argyll, by churchmen and other "well given people," and by mary of guise, whose daughter, by april , , was married to the dauphin of france. argyll replied that he knew how the archbishop was urged on, but declined to abandon douglas. "it is a far cry to loch awe"; argyll, who died soon after, was too powerful to be attacked. but, sometime in april apparently, a poor priest of forfarshire, walter myln, who had married and got into trouble under cardinal beaton, was tried for heresy, and, without sentence of a secular judge, it is said, was burned at st. andrews, displaying serene courage, and hoping to be the last martyr in scotland. naturally there was much indignation; if the lords and others were to keep their band they must bestir themselves. they did bestir themselves in defence of their favourite preachers--willock, harlaw, methuen; a ci-devant friar, christison; and douglas. some of these men were summoned several times throughout , and methuen and harlaw, at least, were "at the horn" (outlawed), but were protected--harlaw at dumfries, methuen at dundee--by powerful laymen. at dundee, as we saw, by , methuen had erected a church of reformed aspect; and "reformed" means that the kirk had already been purged of altars and images. attempts to bring the ringleaders of protestant riots to law were made in , but the precise order of events, and of the protests of the reformers, appears to be dislocated in knox's narrative. he himself was not present, and he seems never to have mastered the sequence of occurrences. fortunately there exists a fragment by a well-informed writer, apparently a contemporary, the "historie of the estate of scotland" covering the events from july to . { a} there are also imperfect records of the parliament of november-december , and of the last provincial council of the church, in march . for july { b} four or five of the brethren were summoned to "a day of law," in edinburgh; their allies assembled to back them, and they were released on bail to appear, if called on, within eight days. at this time the "idol" of st. giles, patron of the city, was stolen, and a great riot occurred at the saint's fete, september . { c} knox describes the discomfiture of his foes in one of his merriest passages, frequently cited by admirers of "his vein of humour." the event, we know, was at once reported to him in geneva, by letter. some time after october, if we rightly construe knox, { a} a petition was delivered to the regent, from the reformers, by sandilands of calder. { b} they asserted that they should have defended the preachers, or testified with them. the wisdom of the regent herself sees the need of reform, spiritual and temporal, and has exhorted the clergy and nobles to employ care and diligence thereon, a fact corroborated by mary of guise herself, in a paper, soon to be quoted, of july . { c} they ask, as they have the reading of the scriptures in the vernacular, for common prayers in the same. they wish for freedom to interpret and discuss the bible "in our conventions," and that baptism and the communion may be done in scots, and they demand the reform of the detestable lives of the prelates. { d} knox's account, in places, appears really to refer to the period of the provincial council of march , though it does not quite fit that date either. the regent is said on the occasion of calder's petition, and after the unsatisfactory replies of the clergy (apparently at the provincial council, march ), to have made certain concessions, till parliament established uniform order. but the parliament was of november-december . { a} before that parliament, at all events (which was mainly concerned with procuring the "crown matrimonial" for the dauphin, husband of mary stuart), the brethren offered a petition, in the first place shown to the regent, asking for ( ) the suspension of persecuting laws till after a general council has "decided all controversies in religion"--that is, till the greek calends. ( ) that prelates shall not be judges in cases of heresy, but only accusers before secular tribunals. ( ) that all lawful defences be granted to persons accused. ( ) that the accused be permitted to explain "his own mind and meaning." ( ) that "none be condemned for heretics unless by the manifest word of god they be convicted to have erred from the faith which the holy spirit witnesses to be necessary to salvation." according to knox this petition the regent put in her pocket, saying that the churchmen would oppose it, and thwart her plan for getting the "crown matrimonial" given to her son-in- law, francis ii., and, in short, gave good words, and drove time. { b} the reformers then drew up a long protestation, which was read in the house, but not enrolled in its records. they say that they have had to postpone a formal demand for reformation, but protest that "it be lawful to us to use ourselves in matters of religion and conscience as we must answer to god," and they are ready to prove their case. they shall not be liable, meanwhile, to any penalties for breach of the existing acts against heresy, "nor for violating such rites as man, without god's commandment or word, hath commanded." they disclaim all responsibility for the ensuing tumults. { a} in fact, they aver that they will not only worship in their own way, but prevent other people from worshipping in the legal way, and that the responsibility for the riots will lie on the side of those who worship legally. and this was the chief occasion of the ensuing troubles. the regent promised to "put good order" in controverted matters, and was praised by the brethren in a letter to calvin, not now to be found. another threat had been made by the brethren, in circumstances not very obscure. as far as they are known they suggest that in january the zealots deliberately intended to provoke a conflict, and to enlist "the rascal multitude" on their side, at easter, . the obscurity is caused by a bookbinder. he has, with the fatal ingenuity of his trade, cut off the two top lines from a page in one manuscript copy of knox's "history." { b} the text now runs thus (in its mutilated condition): " . . . zealous brether . . . upon the gates and posts of all the friars' places within this realm, in the month of january ( ), preceding that whitsunday that they dislodged, which is this . . . " then follows the proclamation. probably we may supply the words: ". . . zealous brethren caused a paper to be affixed upon the gates and posts," and so on. the paper so promulgated purported to be a warning from the poor of scotland that, before whitsunday, "we, the lawful proprietors," will eject the friars and residents on the property, unlawfully withheld by the religious--"our patrimony." this feat will be performed, "with the help of god, _and assistance of his saints on earth, of whose ready support we doubt not_." as the saints, in fact, were the "zealous brether . . ." who affixed the written menace on "all the friars' places," they knew what they were talking about, and could prophesy safely. to make so many copies of the document, and fix them on "all the friars' places," implies organisation, and a deliberate plan--riots and revolution--before whitsunday. the poor, of course, only exchanged better for worse landlords, as they soon discovered. the "zealous brethren"--as a rule small lairds, probably, and burgesses--were the nucleus of the revolution. when townsfolk and yeomen in sufficient number had joined them in arms, then nobles like argyll, lord james, glencairn, ruthven, and the rest, put themselves at the head of the movement, and won the prizes which had been offered to the "blind, crooked, widows, orphans, and all other poor." after parliament was over, at the end of december , the archbishop of st. andrews again summoned the preachers, willock, douglas, harlaw, methuen, and friar john christison to a "day of law" at st. andrews, on february , . (this is the statement of the "historie.") { } the brethren then "caused inform the queen mother that the said preachers would appear with such multitude of men professing their doctrine, as was never seen before in such like cases in this country," and kept their promise. the system of overawing justice by such gatherings was usual, as we have already seen; knox, bothwell, lethington, and the lord james stewart all profited by the practice on various occasions. mary of guise, "fearing some uproar or sedition," bade the bishops put off the summons, and, in fact, the preachers never were summoned, finally, for any offences prior to this date. on february , , the regent issued proclamations against eating flesh in lent (this rule survived the reformation by at least seventy years) and against such disturbances of religious services as the protest just described declared to be imminent, all such deeds being denounced under "pain of death"--as pain of death was used to be threatened against poachers of deer and wild fowl. { a} mary, however, had promised, as we saw, that she would summon the nobles and estates, "to advise for some reformation in religion" (march , ), and the archbishop called a provincial council to edinburgh for march. at this, or some other juncture, for knox's narrative is bewildering, { b} the clergy offered free discussion, but refused to allow exiles like himself to be present, and insisted on the acceptance of the mass, purgatory, the invocation of saints, with security for their ecclesiastical possessions. in return they would grant prayers and baptism in english, if done privately and not in open assembly. the terms, he says, were rejected; appeal was made to mary of guise, and she gave toleration, except for public assemblies in edinburgh and leith, pending the meeting of parliament. to the clergy, who, "some say," bribed her, she promised to "put order" to these matters. the reformers were deceived, and forbade douglas to preach in leith. so writes knox. now the "historie" dates all this, bribe and all, _after the end of december_ . knox, however, by some confusion, places the facts, bribe and all, _before april_ , , myln's martyrdom! { a} yet he had before him as he wrote the chronicle of bruce of earlshall, who states the bribe, knox says, at , pounds; the "historie" says "within , pounds." { b} in any case knox, who never saw his book in print, has clearly dislocated the sequence of events. at this date, namely march , the preaching agitators were at liberty, nor were they again put at for any of their previous proceedings. but defiances had been exchanged. the reformers in their protestation (december ) had claimed it as lawful, we know, that they should enjoy their own services, and put down those of the religion by law established, until such time as the catholic clergy "be able to prove themselves the true ministers of christ's church" and guiltless of all the crimes charged against them by their adversaries. { c} that was the challenge of the reformers, backed by the menace affixed to the doors of all the monasteries. the regent in turn had thrown down her glove by the proclamation of february , , against disturbing services and "bosting" (bullying) priests. how could she possibly do less in the circumstances? if her proclamation was disobeyed, could she do less than summon the disobedient to trial? her hand was forced. it appears to myself, under correction, that all this part of the history of the reformation has been misunderstood by our older historians. almost without exception, they represent the regent as dissembling with the reformers till, on conclusion of the peace of cateau cambresis (which left france free to aid her efforts in scotland), april , , and on the receipt of a message from the guises, "she threw off the mask," and initiated an organised persecution. but there is no evidence that any such message commanding her to persecute at this time came from the guises before the regent had issued her proclamations of february and march , { a} denouncing attacks on priests, disturbance of services, administering of sacraments by lay preachers, and tumults at large. now, sir james melville of halhill, the diplomatist, writing in old age, and often erroneously, makes the cardinal of lorraine send de bettencourt, or bethencourt, to the regent with news of the peace of cateau cambresis and an order to punish heretics with fire and sword, and says that, though she was reluctant, she consequently published her proclamation of march . dates prove part of this to be impossible. { b} obviously the regent had issued her proclamations of february-march in anticipation of the tumults threatened by the reformers in their "beggar's warning" and in their protestation of december, and arranged to occur with violence at easter, as they did. the three or four preachers (two of them apparently "at the horn" in ) were to preach publicly, and riots were certain to ensue, as the reformers had threatened. riots were part of the evangelical programme. of paul methuen, who first "reformed" the church in dundee, pitscottie writes that he "ministered the sacraments of the communion at dundee and cupar, and caused the images thereof to be cast down, and abolished the pope's religion so far as he passed or preached." for this sort of action he was now summoned. { a} the regent, therefore, warned in her proclamations men, often challenged previously, and as often allowed, under fear of armed resistance, to escape. all that followed was but a repetition of the feeble policy of outlawing these four or five men. finally, in may , these preachers had a strong armed backing, and seized a central strategic point, so the revolution blazed out on a question which had long been smouldering and on an occasion that had been again and again deferred. the regent, far from having foreseen and hardened her heart to carry out an organised persecution and "cut the throats" of all protestants in scotland, was, in fact, intending to go to france, being in the earlier stages of her fatal malady. this appears from a letter of sir henry percy, from norham castle, to cecil and parry (april , ) { b} percy says that the news in his latest letters (now lost) was erroneous. the regent, in fact, "is not as yet departed." she is very ill, and her life is despaired of. she is at stirling, where the nobles had assembled to discuss religious matters. only her french advisers were on the side of the regent. "the matter is pacified for the time," and in case of the regent's death, chatelherault, d'oysel, and de rubay are to be a provisional committee of government, till the wishes of the king and queen, francis and mary, are known. again, in her letter of may to henri ii. of france, she stated that she was in very bad health, { a} and, at about the same date (may ), the english ambassador in france mentions her intention to visit that country at once. { b} but the revolution of may , breaking out in perth, condemned her to suffer and die in scotland. this, however, does not amount to proof that no plan of persecution in scotland was intended. throckmorton writes, on may , that the marquis d'elboeuf is to go thither. "he takes with him both men of conduct and some of war; it is thought his stay will not be long." again (may , ), throckmorton reports that henri ii. means to persecute extremely in poitou, guienne, and scotland. "cecil may take occasion to use the matter in scotland as may seem best to serve the turn." { c} this was before the perth riot had been reported (may ) by cecil to throckmorton. was d'elboeuf intended to direct the persecution? the theory has its attractions, but henri, just emerged with maimed forces from a ruinous war, knew that a persecution which served cecil's "turn" did not serve _his_. to persecute in scotland would mean renewed war with england, and could not be contemplated. if sir james melville can be trusted for once, the constable, about june , told him, in the presence of the french king, that if the perth revolt were only about religion, "we mon commit scottismen's saules unto god." { } melville was then despatched with promise of aid to the regent--if the rising was political, not religious. it is quite certain that the regent issued her proclamations without any commands from france; and her health was inconsistent with an intention to put protestants to fire and sword. in the records of the provincial council of march , the foremost place is given to "articles" presented to the regent by "some temporal lords and barons," and by her handed to the clergy. they are the proposals of conservative reformers. they ask for moral reformation of the lives of the clergy: for sermons on sundays and holy days: for due examination of the doctrine, life, and learning of all who are permitted to preach. they demand that no vicar or curate shall be appointed unless he can read the catechism (of ) plainly and distinctly: that expositions of the sacraments should be clearly pronounced in the vernacular: that common prayer should be read in the vernacular: that certain exactions of gifts and dues should be abolished. again, no one should be allowed to dishonour the sacraments, or the service of the mass: no unqualified person should administer the sacraments: kirk rapine, destruction of religious buildings and works of art, should not be permitted. the council passed thirty-four statutes on these points. the clergy were to live cleanly, and not to keep their bastards at home. they were implored, "in the bowels of christ" to do their duty in the services of the church. no one in future was to be admitted to a living without examination by the ordinary. ruined churches were to be rebuilt or repaired. breakers of ornaments and violators or burners of churches were to be pursued. there was to be preaching as often as the ordinary thought fit: if the rector could not preach he must find a substitute who could. plain expositions of the sacraments were made out, were to be read aloud to the congregations, and were published at twopence ("the twopenny faith"). administration of the eucharist except by priests was to be punished by excommunication. { a} knox himself desired _death_ for others than true ministers who celebrated the sacrament. { b} his "true ministers," about half-a-dozen of them at this time, of course came under the penalty of the last statute. he says, with the usual error, that _after_ peace was made between france and england, on april , (the treaty of cateau cambresis), the regent "began to spew forth and disclose the latent venom of her double heart." she looked "frowardly" on protestants, "commanded her household to use all abominations at easter," she herself communicated, "and it is supposed that after that day the devil took more violent and strong possession in her than he had before . . . for incontinent she caused our preachers to be summoned." but _why_ did she summon the same set of preachers as before, for no old offence? the regent, says the "historie," made proclamation, during the council (as the moderate reformers had asked her to do), "that no manner of person should . . . preach or minister the sacraments, except they were admitted by the ordinary or a bishop on no less pain than death." the council, in fact, made excommunication the penalty. now it was for ministering the sacrament after the proclamation of march , for preaching heresy, and stirring up "seditions and tumults," that methuen, brother john christison, william harlaw, and john willock were summoned to appear at stirling on may , . { a} how could any governor of scotland abstain from summoning them in the circumstances? there seems to be no new suggestion of the devil, no outbreak of guisian fury. the regent was in a situation whence there was no "outgait": she must submit to the seditions and tumults threatened in the protestation of the brethren, the disturbances of services, the probable wrecking of churches, or she must use the powers legally entrusted to her. she gave insolent answers to remonstrances from the brethren, says knox. she would banish the preachers (not execute them), "albeit they preached as truly as ever did st. paul." being threatened, as before, with the consequent "inconvenients," she said "she would advise." however, summon the preachers she did, for breach of her proclamations, "tumults and seditions." { b} knox himself was present at the revolution which ensued, but we must now return to his own doings in the autumn and winter of - . { } chapter ix: knox on the anabaptists: his appeal to england: - while the inevitable revolution was impending in scotland, knox was living at geneva. he may have been engaged on his "answer" to the "blasphemous cavillations" of an anabaptist, his treatise on predestination. laing thought that this work was "chiefly written" at dieppe, in february-april , but as it contains more than pages it is probably a work of longer time than two months. in november the english at geneva asked leave to print the book, which was granted, provided that the name of geneva did not appear as the place of printing; the authorities knowing of what knox was capable from the specimen given in his "first blast." there seem to be several examples of the genevan edition, published by crispin in ; the next edition, less rare, is of (london). { } the anabaptist whom knox is discussing had been personally known to him, and had lucid intervals. "your chief apollos," he had said, addressing the calvinists, "be persecutors, on whom the blood of servetus crieth a vengeance. . . . they have set forth books affirming it to be lawful to persecute and put to death such as dissent from them in controversies of religion. . . . notwithstanding they, before they came to authority, were of another judgment, and did both say and write that no man ought to be persecuted for his conscience' sake. . . ." { a} knox replied that servetus was a blasphemer, and that moses had been a more wholesale persecutor than the edwardian burners of joan of kent, and the genevan church which roasted servetus { b} (october ). he incidentally proves that he was better than his doctrine. in england an anabaptist, after asking for secrecy, showed him a manuscript of his own full of blasphemies. "in me i confess there was great negligence, that neither did retain his book nor present him to the magistrate" to burn. knox could not have done that, for the author "earnestly required of me closeness and fidelity," which, probably, knox promised. indeed, one fancies that his opinions and character would have been in conflict if a chance of handing an idolater over to death had been offered to him. { c} the death of mary tudor on november , , does not appear to have been anticipated by him. the tidings reached him before january , , when he wrote from geneva a singular "brief exhortation to england for the spedie embrasing of christ's gospel heretofore by the tyrannie of marie suppressed and banished." the gospel to be embraced by england is, of course, not nearly so much christ's as john knox's, in its most acute form and with its most absolute, intolerant, and intolerable pretensions. he begins by vehemently rebuking england for her "shameful defection" and by threatening god's "horrible vengeances which thy monstrous unthankfulness hath long deserved," if the country does not become much more puritan than it had ever been, or is ever likely to be. knox "wraps you all in idolatry, all in murder, all in one and the same iniquity," except the actual marian martyrs; those who "abstained from idolatry;" and those who "avoided the realm" or ran away. he had set one of the earliest examples of running away: to do so was easier for him than for family men and others who had "a stake in the country," for which knox had no relish. he is hardly generous in blaming all the persons who felt no more "ripe" for martyrdom than he did, yet stayed in england, where the majority were, and continued to be, catholics. having asserted his very contestable superiority and uttered pages of biblical threatenings, knox says that the repentance of england "requireth two things," first, the expulsion of "all dregs of popery" and the treading under foot of all "glistering beauty of vain ceremonies." religious services must be reduced, in short, to his own bare standard. next, the genevan and knoxian "kirk discipline" must be introduced. no "power or liberty (must) be permitted to any, of what estate, degree, or authority they be, either to live without the yoke of discipline by god's word commanded," or "to alter . . . one jot in religion which from god's mouth thou hast received. . . . if prince, king, or emperor would enterprise to change or disannul the same, that he be of thee reputed enemy to god," while a prince who erects idolatry . . . "must be adjudged to death." each bishopric is to be divided into ten. the founder of the church and the apostles "all command us to preach, to preach." a brief sketch of what the book of discipline later set forth for the edification of scotland is recommended to england, and is followed by more threatenings in the familiar style. england did not follow the advice of knox: her whole population was not puritan, many of her martyrs had died for the prayer book which knox would have destroyed. his tract cannot have added to the affection which elizabeth bore to the author of "the first blast." in after years, as we shall see, knox spoke in a tone much more moderate in addressing the early english nonconformist secessionists ( ). indeed, it is as easy almost to prove, by isolated passages in knox's writings, that he was a sensible, moderate man, loathing and condemning active resistance in religion, as to prove him to be a senselessly violent man. all depends on the occasion and opportunity. he speaks with two voices. he was very impetuous; in the death of mary tudor he suddenly saw the chance of bringing english religion up, or down, to the genevan level, and so he wrote this letter of vehement rebuke and inopportune advice. knox must have given his biographers "medicines to make them love him." the learned dr. lorimer finds in this epistle, one of the most fierce of his writings, "a programme of what this reformation reformed should be--a programme which was honourable alike to knox's zeal and his moderation." the "moderation" apparently consists in not abolishing bishoprics, but substituting "ten bishops of moderate income for one lordly prelate." despite this moderation of the epistle, "its intolerance is extreme," says dr. lorimer, and knox's advice "cannot but excite astonishment." { } the party which agreed with him in england was the minority of a minority; the catholics, it is usually supposed, though we have no statistics, were the majority of the english nation. yet the only chance, according to knox, that england has of escaping the vengeance of an irritable deity, is for the smaller minority to alter the prayer book, resist the queen, if she wishes to retain it unaltered, and force the english people into the "discipline" of a swiss protestant town. dr. lorimer, a most industrious and judicious writer, adds that, in these matters of "discipline," and of intolerance, knox "went to a tragical extreme of opinion, of which none of the other leading reformers had set an example;" also that what he demanded was substantially demanded by the puritans all through the reign of elizabeth. but knox averred publicly, and in his "history," that for everything he affirmed in scotland he had heard the judgments "of the most godly and learned that be known in europe . . . and for my assurance i have the handwritings of many." now he had affirmed frequently, in scotland, the very doctrines of discipline and persecution "of which none of the other leading reformers had set an example," according to dr. lorimer. therefore, either they agreed with knox, or what knox told the lords in june was not strictly accurate. { } in any case knox gave to his country the most extreme of reformations. the death of mary tudor, and the course of events at home, were now to afford our reformer the opportunity of promulgating, in scotland, those ideas which we and his learned presbyterian student alike regret and condemn. these persecuting ideas "were only a mistaken theory of christian duty, and nothing worse," says dr. lorimer. nothing could possibly be worse than a doctrine contrary in the highest degree to the teaching of our lord, whether the doctrine was proclaimed by pope, prelate, or calvinist. here it must be observed that a most important fact in knox's career, a most important element in his methods, has been little remarked upon by his biographers. ever since he failed, in , to obtain the adhesion of bullinger and calvin to his more extreme ideas, he had been his own prophet, and had launched his decrees of the right of the people, of part of the people, and of the individual, to avenge the insulted majesty of god upon idolaters, not only without warrant from the heads of the calvinistic church, but to their great annoyance and disgust. of this an example will now be given. chapter x: knox and the scottish revolution, knox had learned from letters out of scotland that protestants there now ran no risks; that "without a shadow of fear they might hear prayers in the vernacular, and receive the sacraments in the right way, the impure ceremonies of antichrist being set aside." the image of st. giles had been broken by a mob, and thrown into a sewer; "the impure crowd of priests and monks" had fled, throwing away the shafts of the crosses they bore, and "hiding the golden heads in their robes." now the regent thinks of reforming religion, on a given day, at a convention of the whole realm. so william cole wrote to bishop bale, then at basle, without date. the riot was of the beginning of september , and is humorously described by knox. { } this news, though regarded as "very certain," was quite erroneous except as to the riot. one may guess that it was given to knox in letters from the nobles, penned in october , which he received in november ; there was also a letter to calvin from the nobles, asking for knox's presence. it seemed that a visit to scotland was perfectly safe; knox left geneva in january, he arrived in dieppe in february, where he learned that elizabeth would not allow him to travel through england. he had much that was private to say to cecil, and was already desirous of procuring english aid to scottish reformers. the tidings of the queen's refusal to admit him to england came through cecil, and knox told him that he was "worthy of hell" (for conformity with mary tudor); and that turks actually granted such safe conducts as were now refused to him. { a} perhaps he exaggerated the amenity of the turks. his "first blast," if acted on, disturbed the succession in england, and might beget new wars, a matter which did not trouble the prophet. he also asked leave to visit his flock at berwick. this too was refused. doubtless knox, with his unparalleled activity, employed the period of delay in preaching the word at dieppe. after his arrival in scotland, he wrote to his dieppe congregation, upbraiding them for their laodicean laxity in permitting idolatry to co-exist with true religion in their town. why did they not drive out the idolatrous worship? these epistles were intercepted by the governor of dieppe, and their contents appear to have escaped the notice of the reformer's biographers. a revolt followed in dieppe. { b} meanwhile knox's doings at dieppe had greatly exasperated francois morel, the chief pastor of the genevan congregation in paris, and president of the first protestant synod held in that town. the affairs of the french protestants were in a most precarious condition; persecution broke into fury early in june . a week earlier, morel wrote to calvin, "knox was for some time in dieppe, waiting on a wind for scotland." "he dared publicly to profess the worst and most infamous of doctrines: 'women are unworthy to reign; christians may protect themselves by arms against tyrants!'" the latter excellent doctrine was not then accepted by the genevan learned. "i fear that knox may fill scotland with his madness. he is said to have a boon companion at geneva, whom we hear that the people of dieppe have called to be their minister. if he be infected with such opinions, for christ's sake pray that he be not sent; or if he has already departed, warn the dieppe people to beware of him." { a} a french ex-capuchin, jacques trouille, was appointed as knox's successor at dieppe. { b} knox's ideas, even the idea that christians may bear the sword against tyrants, were all his own, were anti-genevan; and though calvin ( - ) knew all about the conspiracy of amboise to kill the guises, he ever maintained that he had discouraged and preached against it. we must, therefore, credit knox with originality, both in his ideas and in his way of giving it to be understood that they had the approval of the learned of switzerland. the reverse was true. by may , knox was in edinburgh, "come in the brunt of the battle," as the preachers' summons to trial was for may . he was at once outlawed, "blown loud to the horn," but was not dismayed. on this occasion the battle would be a fair fight, the gentry, under their band, stood by the preachers, and, given a chance in open field with the arm of the flesh to back him, knox's courage was tenacious and indomitable. it was only for lonely martyrdom that he never thought himself ready, and few historians have a right to throw the first stone at him for his backwardness. as for armed conflict, at this moment mary of guise could only reckon surely on the small french garrison of scotland, perhaps or men. she could place no confidence in the feudal levies that gathered when the royal standard was raised. the hamiltons merely looked to their own advancement; lord james stewart was bound to the congregation; huntly was a double dealer and was remote; the minor noblesse and the armed burghers, with glencairn representing the south-west, lollard from of old, were attached to knox's doctrines, while the mob would flock in to destroy and plunder. [bridal medal of mary stuart and the dauphin, : knox .jpg] meanwhile mary of guise was at stirling, and a multitude of protestants were at perth, where the reformation had just made its entry, and had secured a walled city, a thing unique in scotland. the gentry of angus and the people of dundee, at perth, were now anxious to make a "demonstration" (unarmed, says knox) at stirling, if the preachers obeyed the summons to go thither, on may . their strategy was excellent, whether carefully premeditated or not. the regent, according to knox, amused erskine of dun with promises of "taking some better order" till the day of may arrived, when, the preachers and their backers having been deluded into remaining at perth instead of "demonstrating" at stirling, she outlawed the preachers and fined their sureties ("assisters"). she did not outlaw the sureties. her treachery (alleged only by knox and others who follow him) is examined in appendix a. meanwhile it is certain that the preachers were put to the horn in absence, and that the brethren, believing themselves (according to knox) to have been disgracefully betrayed, proceeded to revolutionary extremes, such as calvin energetically denounced. if we ask who executed the task of wrecking the monasteries at perth, knox provides two different answers. in the "history" knox says that after the news came of the regent's perfidy, and after a sermon "vehement against idolatry," a priest began to celebrate, and "opened a glorious tabernacle" on the high altar. "certain godly men and a young boy" were standing near; they all, or the boy alone (the sentence may be read either way), cried that this was intolerable. the priest struck the boy, who "took up a stone" and hit the tabernacle, and "the whole multitude" wrecked the monuments of idolatry. neither the exhortation of the preacher nor the command of the magistrate could stay them in their work of destruction. { } presently "the rascal multitude" convened, _without_ the gentry and "earnest professors," and broke into the franciscan and dominican monasteries. they wrecked as usual, and the "common people" robbed, but the godly allowed forman, prior of the charter house, to bear away about as much gold and silver as he was able to carry. we learn from mary of guise and lesley's "history" that the very orchards were cut down. if, thanks to the preachers, "no honest man was enriched the value of a groat," apparently dishonest men must have sacked the gold and silver plate of the monasteries; nothing is said by knox on this head, except as to the charter house. writing to mrs. locke, on the other hand, on june , knox tells her that "the brethren," after "complaint and appeal made" against the regent, levelled with the ground the three monasteries, burned all "monuments of idolatry" accessible, "and priests were commanded under pain of death, to desist from their blasphemous mass." { } nothing is said about a spontaneous and uncontrollable popular movement. the professional "brethren," earnest professors of course, reap the glory. which is the true version? if the version given to mrs. locke be accurate, knox had sufficient reasons for producing a different account in that portion of his "history" (book ii.) which is a tract written in autumn, , and in purpose meant for contemporary foreign as well as domestic readers. the performances attributed to the brethren, in the letter to the london merchant's wife, were of a kind which calvin severely rebuked. similar or worse violences were perpetrated by french brethren at lyons, on april , . the booty of the church of st. jean had been sold at auction. there must be no more robbery and pillage, says calvin, writing on may , to the lyons preachers. the ruffians who rob ought rather to be abandoned, than associated with to the scandal of the gospel. "already reckless zeal was shown in the ravages committed in the churches" (altars and images had been overthrown), "but those who fear god will not rigorously judge what was done in hot blood, from devout emotion, but what can be said in defence of looting?" calvin spoke even more distinctly to the "consistory" of nimes, who suspended a preacher named tartas for overthrowing crosses, altars, and images in churches (july-august, ). the zealot was even threatened with excommunication by his fellow religionists. { a} calvin heard that this fanatic had not only consented to the outrages, but had incited them, and had "the insupportable obstinacy" to say that such conduct was, with him, "a matter of conscience." "but _we_" says calvin, "know that the reverse is the case, for god never commanded any one to overthrow idols, except every man in his own house, and, in public, those whom he has armed with authority. let that fire-brand" (the preacher) "show us by what title _he_ is lord of the land where he has been burning things." knox must have been aware of calvin's opinion about such outrages as those of perth, which, in a private letter, he attributes to the brethren: in his public "history" to the mob. at st. andrews, when similar acts were committed, he says that "the provost and bailies . . . did agree to remove all monuments of idolatry," whether this would or would not have satisfied calvin. opponents of my view urge that knox, though he knew that the brethren had nothing to do with the ruin at perth, yet, in the enthusiasm of six weeks later, claimed this honour for them, when writing to mrs. locke. still later, when cool, he told, in his "history," "the frozen truth," the mob alone was guilty, despite his exhortations and the commandment of the magistrate. neither alternative is very creditable to the prophet. in the "historie of the estate of scotland," it is "the brethren" who break, burn, and destroy. { b} in knox's "history" no mention is made of the threat of death against the priests. in the letter to mrs. locke he says, apparently of the threat, perhaps of the whole affair, "which thing did so enrage the venom of the serpent's seed," that she decreed death against man, woman, and child in perth, after the fashion of knox's favourite texts in deuteronomy and chronicles. this was "beastlie crueltie." the "history" gives the same account of the regent's threatening "words which might escape her in choler" (of course we have no authority for her speaking them at all), but, in the "history," knox omits the threat by the brethren of death against the priests--a threat which none of his biographers mentions! if the menace against the priests and the ruin of monasteries were not seditious, what is sedition? but knox's business, in book ii. of his "history" (much of it written in september-october ), is to prove that the movement was _not_ rebellious, was purely religious, and all for "liberty of conscience"--for protestants. therefore, in the "history," he disclaims the destruction by the brethren of the monasteries--the mob did that; and he burkes the threat of death to priests: though he told the truth, privately, to mrs. locke. mary did not move at once. the hamiltons joined her, and she had her french soldiers, perhaps men. on may "the faithful congregation of christ jesus in scotland," but a few gentlemen being concerned, wrote from perth, which they were fortifying, to the regent. if she proceeds in her "cruelty," they will take up the sword, and inform all christian princes, and their queen in france, that they have revolted solely because of "this cruel, unjust, and most tyrannical murder, intended against towns and multitudes." as if they had not revolted already! their pretext seems to mean that they do not want to alter the sovereign authority, a quibble which they issued for several months, long after it was obviously false. they also wrote to the nobles, to the french officers in the regent's service, and to the clergy. what really occurred was that many of the brethren left perth, after they had "made a day of it," as they had threatened earlier: that the regent called her nobles to council, concentrated her french forces, and summoned the levies of clydesdale and stirlingshire. meanwhile the brethren flocked again into perth, at that time, it is said, the only wall-girt town in scotland: they strengthened the works, wrote everywhere for succour, and loudly maintained that they were not rebellious or seditious. of these operations knox was the life and soul. there is no mistaking his hand in the letter to mary of guise, or in the epistle to the catholic clergy. that letter is courteously addressed "to the generation of anti-christ, the pestilent prelates and their shavelings within scotland, the congregation of jesus within the same saith." the gentle congregation saith that, if the clergy "proceed in their cruelty," they shall be "apprehended as murderers." "we shall begin that same war which god commanded israel to execute against the canaanites . . . " this they promise in the names of god, christ, and the gospel. any one can recognise the style of knox in this composition. david hume remarks: "with these outrageous symptoms commenced in scotland that hypocrisy and fanaticism which long infested that kingdom, and which, though now mollified by the lenity of the civil power, is still ready to break out on all occasions." hume was wrong, there was no touch of hypocrisy in knox; he believed as firmly in the "message" which he delivered as in the reality of the sensible universe. a passage in the message to the nobility displays the intense ardour of the convictions that were to be potent in the later history of the kirk. that priests, by the prescription of fifteen centuries, should have persuaded themselves of their own power to damn men's souls to hell, cut them off from the christian community, and hand them over to the devil, is a painful circumstance. but knox, from perth, asserts that the same awful privilege is vested in the six or seven preachers of the nascent kirk with the fire-new doctrine! addressing the signers of the godly band and other sympathisers who have not yet come in, he (if he wrote these fiery appeals) observes, that if they do _not_ come in, "ye shall be _excommunicated_ from our society, and from all participation with us in the administration of the sacraments . . . doubt we nothing but that our church, _and the true ministers of the same_, have the power which our master, jesus christ, granted to his apostles in these words, 'whose sins ye shall forgive, shall be forgiven, and whose sins ye shall retain, shall be retained' . . . " men were to be finally judged by omnipotence on the faith of what willock, knox, harlaw, poor paul methuen, and the apostate friar christison, "trew ministeris," thought good to decide! with such bugbears did guthrie and his companions think, a century later, to daunt "the clear spirit of montrose." while reading the passages just cited, we are enabled to understand the true cause of the sorrows of scotland for a hundred and thirty years. the situation is that analysed by thomas luber, a professor of medicine at heidelberg, well or ill known in scottish ecclesiastical disputes by his graecised name, erastus. he argued, about , that excommunication has no certain warrant in holy writ, under a christian prince. erastus writes:-- "some men were seized on by a certain excommunicatory fever, which they did adorn with the name of 'ecclesiastical discipline.' . . . they affirmed the manner of it to be this: that certain presbyters should sit in the name of the whole church, and should judge who were worthy or unworthy to come to the lord's supper. i wonder that then they consulted about these matters, when we neither had men to be excommunicated, nor fit excommunicators; for scarcely a thirtieth part of the people did understand or approve of the reformed religion." { } "there was," adds erastus, "another fruit of the same tree, that almost every one thought men had the power of opening and shutting heaven to whomsoever they would." what men have this power in scotland in ? why, some five or six persons who, being fluent preachers, have persuaded local sets of protestants to accept them as ministers. these preachers having a "call"--it might be from a set of perfidious and profligate murderers--are somehow gifted with the apostolic grace of binding on earth what shall be bound in heaven. their successors, down to mr. cargill, who, of his own fantasy, excommunicated charles ii., were an intolerable danger to civilised society. for their edicts of "boycotting" they claimed the sanction of the civil magistrate, and while these almost incredibly fantastic pretentions lasted, there was not, and could not be, peace in scotland. the seed of this upas tree was sown by knox and his allies in may . an act of repealed civil penalties for the excommunicated. to face the supernaturally gifted preachers the regent had but a slender force, composed in great part of sympathisers with knox. croft, the english commander at berwick, writing to the english privy council, on may , anticipated that there would be no war. the hamiltons, numerically powerful, and strong in martial gentlemen of the name, were with the regent. but of the hamiltons it might always be said, as charles i. was to remark of their chief, that "they were very active for their own preservation," and for no other cause. for centuries but one or two lives stood between them and the throne, the haven where they would be. they never produced a great statesman, but their wealth, numbers, and almost royal rank made them powerful. at this moment the eldest son of the house, the earl of arran, was in france. as a boy, he had been seized by the murderers of cardinal beaton, and held as a hostage in the castle of st. andrews. was he there converted to the reformers' ideas by the eloquence of knox? we know not, but, as heir to his father's french duchy of chatelherault, he had been some years in france, commanding the scottish archer guard. in france too, perhaps, he was more or less a pledge for his father's loyalty in scotland. he was now a protestant in earnest, had retired from the french court, had refused to return thither when summoned, and fled from the troops who were sent to bring him; lurking in woods and living on strawberries. cecil despatched thomas randolph to steer him across the frontier to zurich. he was a piece in the game much more valuable than his father, whose portrait shows us a weak, feebly cunning, good-natured, and puzzled-looking old nobleman. till arran returned to scotland, the hamiltons, it was certain, would be trusty allies of neither faith and of neither party. when the perth tumult broke out, lord james rode with the regent, as did argyll. but both had signed the godly band of december , , and could no more be trusted by the regent than the hamiltons. meanwhile, the gentry of fife and forfarshire, with the town of dundee, joined knox in the walled town of perth, though lord ruthven, provost of perth, deserted, for the moment, to the regent. on the other hand, the courageous glencairn, with a strong body of the zealots of renfrewshire and ayrshire, was moving by forced marches to join the brethren. on may , the regent, instead of attacking, halted at auchterarder, fourteen miles away, and sent argyll and lord james to parley. they were told that the brethren meant no rebellion (as the regent said and doubtless thought that they did), but only desired security for their religion, and were ready to "be tried" (by whom?) "in lawful judgment." argyll and lord james were satisfied. on may , knox harangued the two lords in his wonted way, but the regent bade the brethren leave perth on pain of treason. by may , however, she heard of glencairn's approach with lord ochiltree, a stewart (later knox's father-in-law); glencairn, by cross roads, had arrived within six miles of perth, with horse and foot. the western reformers were thus nearer perth than her own untrustworthy levies at auchterarder. not being aware of this, the brethren proposed obedience, if the regent would amnesty the perth men, let their faith "go forward," and leave no garrison of "french soldiers." to mrs. locke knox adds that no idolatry should be erected, or alteration made within the town. { } the regent was now sending lord james, argyll, and mr. gawain hamilton to treat, when glencairn and his men marched into perth. argyll and lord james then promised to join the brethren, if the regent broke her agreement; knox and willock assured their hearers that break it she would--and so the agreement was accepted (may ). it was thus necessary for the brethren to allege that the covenant was broken; and it was not easy for mary to secure order in perth without taking some step that could be seized on as a breach of her promise; argyll and lord james could then desert her for the party of knox. the very band which argyll and lord james signed with the congregation provided that the godly should go on committing the disorders which it was the duty of the regent to suppress, and they proceeded in that holy course, "breaking down the altars and idols in all places where they came." { a} "at their whole powers" the congregations are "to destroy and put away all that does dishonour to god's name"; that is, monasteries and works of sacred art. they are all to defend each other against "any power whatsoever" that shall trouble them in their pious work. argyll and lord james signed this new band, with glencairn, lord boyd, and ochiltree. the queen's emissaries thus deserted her cause on the last day of may , or earlier, for the chronology is perplexing. { b} as to the terms of truce with the regent, knox gives no document, but says that no perth people should be troubled for their recent destruction of idolatry "and for down casting the places of the same; that she would suffer the religion begun to go forward, and leave the town at her departing free from the garrisons of french soldiers." the "historie" mentions no terms except that "she should leave no men of war behind her." thus, as it seems, the brethren by their band were to go on wrecking the homes of the regent's religion, while she was not to enjoy her religious privileges in the desecrated churches of perth, for to do that was to prevent "the religion begun" from "going forward." on the regent's entry her men "discharged their volley of hackbuts," probably to clear their pieces, a method of unloading which prevailed as late as waterloo. but some aimed, says knox, at the house of patrick murray and hit a son of his, a boy of ten or twelve, "who, being slain, was had to the queen's presence." she mocked, and wished it had been his father, "but seeing that it so chanced, we cannot be against fortune." it is not very probable that mary of guise was "merry," in knox's manner of mirth, over the death of a child (to mrs. locke knox says "children"), who, for all we know, may have been the victim of accident, like the jacobite lady who was wounded at a window as prince charles's men discharged their pieces when entering edinburgh after the victory of prestonpans. (this brave lady said that it was fortunate she was not a whig, or the accident would have been ascribed to design.) this event at perth was called a breach of terms, so was the attendance at mass, celebrated on any chance table, as "the altars were not so easy to be repaired again." the soldiers were billeted on citizens, whose houses were "oppressed by" the frenchmen, and the provost, ruthven (who had anew deserted to the congregation), and the bailies, were deposed. these magistrates probably had been charged with the execution of priests who dared to do their duty; at least in the following year, on june , , we find the provost, bailies, and town council of edinburgh decreeing death for the third offence against idolaters who do not instantly profess their conversion. { } the edinburgh municipality did this before the abolition of catholicism by the convention of estates in august . it does not appear that any authority in perth except that of the provost and bailies could sentence priests to death; was their removal, then, a breach of truce? at all events it seemed necessary in the circumstances, and mary of guise when she departed left no _french_ soldiers to protect the threatened priests, but four companies of scots who had been in french service, under stewart of cardonell and captain cullen, the captain of queen mary's guard after the murder of riccio. the regent is said by knox to have remarked that she was not bound to keep faith with heretics, and that, with as fair an excuse, she would make little scruple to take the lives and goods of "all that sort." we do not know knox's authority for these observations of the regent. the scots soldiers left by mary of guise may have been protestants, they certainly were not frenchmen; and, in a town where death had just been threatened to all priests who celebrated the mass, mary could not abandon her clerics unprotected. taking advantage of what they called breach of treaty as regards the soldiers left in perth, lord james and argyll, with ruthven, had joined the brethren, accompanied by the earl of menteith and murray of tullibardine, ancestor of the ducal house of atholl. argyll and lord james went to st. andrews, summoning their allies thither for june . knox meanwhile preached in crail and anstruther, with the usual results. on sunday, june , { a} and for three days more, despising the threats of the archbishop, backed by a hundred spears, and referring to his own prophecy made when he was in the galleys, he thundered at st. andrews. the poor ruins of some sacred buildings "are alive to testify" to the consequences, and a head of the redeemer found in the latrines of the abbey is another mute witness to the destruction of that day. { b} it is not my purpose to dilate on the universal destruction of so much that was beautiful, and that to scots, however godly, should have been sacred. the tomb of the bruce in dunfermline, for example, was wrecked by the mob, as the statue of jeanne d'arc on the bridge of orleans was battered to pieces by the huguenots. nor need we ask what became of church treasures, perhaps of great value and antiquity. in some known cases, the magistrates held and sold those of the town churches. some of the plate and vestments at aberdeen were committed to the charge of huntly, but about ounces of plate were divided among the prebendaries, who seem to have appropriated them. { } the church treasures of glasgow were apparently carried abroad by archbishop beaton. if lord james, as prior, took possession of the gold and silver of st. andrews, he probably used the bullion (he spent some , crowns) in his defence of the approaches to the town, against the french, in december . a silver mace of st. salvator's college escaped the robbers. [head of christ. st. andrews. excavated from the ruins of the abbey by the late marquis of bute: knox .jpg] there is no sign of the possession of much specie by the congregation in the months that followed the sack of so many treasuries of pious offerings. lesley says that they wanted to coin the plate in edinburgh, and for that purpose seized, as they certainly did, the dies of the mint. in france, when the brethren sacked tours, they took twelve hundred thousand livres d'or; the country was enriched for the moment. not so scotland. in fact the plate of aberdeen cathedral, as inventoried in the register, is no great treasure. monasteries and cathedrals were certain to perish sooner or later, for the lead of every such roof except coldingham had been stripped and sold by , while tombs had been desecrated for their poor spoils, and the fanes were afterwards used as quarries of hewn stone. lord james had a peculiar aversion to idolatrous books, and is known to have ordered the burning of many manuscripts;--the loss to art was probably greater than the injury to history or literature. the fragments of things beautiful that the reformers overlooked, were destroyed by the covenanters. an attempt has been made to prove that the border abbeys were not wrecked by reformers, but by english troops in the reign of henry viii., who certainly ravaged them. lesley, however, says that the abbeys of kelso and melrose were "by them (the reformers) broken down and wasted." { a} if there was nothing left to destroy on the border, why did the brethren march against kelso, as cecil reports, on july , ? { b} after the devastation the regent meant to attack the destroyers, intending to occupy cupar, six miles, by knox's reckoning, from st. andrews. but, by june , the brethren had anticipated her with a large force, rapidly recruited, including three thousand men under the lothian professors; ruthven's horse; the levies of the earl of rothes (leslie), and many burgesses. next day the regent's french horse found the brethren occupying a very strong post; their numbers were dissembled, their guns commanded the plains, and the eden was in their front. a fog hung over the field; when it lifted, the french commander, d'oysel, saw that he was outnumbered and outmanoeuvred. he sent on an envoy to parley, "which gladly of us being granted, the queen offered a free remission for all crimes past, so that they would no further proceed against friars and abbeys, and that no more preaching should be used publicly," for _that_ always meant kirk-wrecking. when wishart preached at mauchline, long before, in , it was deemed necessary to guard the church, where there was a tempting tabernacle, "beutyfull to the eie." the lords and the whole brethren "refused such appointment" . . . says knox to mrs. locke; they would not "suffer idolatrie to be maintained in the bounds committed to their charge." { a} to them liberty of conscience from the first meant liberty to control the consciences and destroy the religion of all who differed from them. an eight days' truce was made for negotiations; during the truce neither party was to "enterprize" anything. knox in his "history" does not mention an attack on the monastery of lindores during the truce. he says that his party expected envoys from the regent, as in the terms of truce, but perceived "her craft and deceit." { b} in fact, the brethren were the truce-breakers. knox gives only the assurances signed by the regent's envoys, the duke of chatelherault and d'oysel. they include a promise "not to invade, trouble, or disquiet the lords," the reforming party. but, though knox omits the fact, the reformers made a corresponding and equivalent promise: "that the congregation should enterprise nothing nor make no invasion, for the space of six days following, for the lords and principals of the congregation read the rest on another piece of paper." { c} the situation is clear. the two parties exchanged assurances. knox prints that of the regent's party, not that, "on another piece of paper," of the congregation. they broke their word; they "made invasion" at lindores, during truce, as knox tells mrs. locke, but does not tell the readers of his "history." { a} it is true that knox was probably preaching at st. andrews on june , and was not present at cupar muir. but he could easily have ascertained what assurances the lords of the congregation "read from another piece of paper" on that historic waste. { b} chapter xi: knox's intrigues, and his account of them, the reformers, and knox as their secretary and historian, had now reached a very difficult and delicate point in their labours. their purpose was, not by any means to secure toleration and freedom of conscience, but to extirpate the religion to which they were opposed. it was the religion by law existing, the creed of "authority," of the regent and of the king and queen whom she represented. the position of the congregation was therefore essentially that of rebels, and, in the state of opinion at the period, to be rebels was to be self-condemned. in the eyes of calvin and the learned of the genevan church, kings were the lord's appointed, and the gospel must not be supported by the sword. "better that we all perish a hundred times," calvin wrote to coligny in . protestants, therefore, if they would resist in arms, had to put themselves in order, and though knox had no doubt that to exterminate idolaters was thoroughly in order, the leaders of his party were obliged to pay deference to european opinion. by a singular coincidence they adopted precisely the same device as the more militant french protestants laid before calvin in august -march . the scots and the protestant french represented that they were illegally repressed by foreigners: in scotland by mary of guise with her french troops; in france by the cardinal and duc de guise, foreigners, who had possession of the persons and authority of the "native prince" of scotland, mary, and the "native prince" of france, francis ii., both being minors. the french idea was that, if they secured the aid of a native protestant prince (conde), they were in order, as against the foreign guises, and might kill these tyrants, seize the king, and call an assembly of the estates. calvin was consulted by the chief of the conspiracy, la renaudie; he disapproved; the legality lent by one native prince was insufficient; the details of the plot were "puerile," and calvin waited to see how the country would take it. the plot failed, at amboise, in march . in scotland, as in france, devices about a prince of the native blood suggested themselves. the regent, being of the house of guise, was a foreigner, like her brothers in france. the "native princes" were chatelherault and his eldest son, arran. the leaders, soon after lord james and argyll formally joined the zealous brethren, saw that without foreign aid their enterprise was desperate. their levies must break up and go home to work; the regent's nucleus of french troops could not be ousted from the sea fortress of dunbar, and would in all probability be joined by the army promised by henri ii. his death, the huguenot risings, the consequent impotence of the guises to aid the regent, could not be foreseen. scotland, it seemed, would be reduced to a french province; the religion would be overthrown. there was thus no hope, except in aid from england. but by the recent treaty of cateau cambresis (april , ), elizabeth was bound not to help the rebels of the french dauphin, the husband of the queen of scots. moreover, elizabeth had no stronger passion than a hatred of rebels. if she was to be persuaded to help the reformers, they must produce some show of a legitimate "authority" with whom she could treat. this was as easy to find as it was to the huguenots in the case of conde. chatelherault and arran, native princes, next heirs to the crown while mary was childless, could be produced as legitimate "authority." but to do this implied a change of "authority," an upsetting of "authority," which was plain rebellion in the opinion of the genevan doctors. knox was thus obliged, in sermons and in the pamphlet (book ii. of his "history"), to maintain that nothing more than freedom of conscience and religion was contemplated, while, as a matter of fact, he was foremost in the intrigue for changing the "authority," and even for depriving mary stuart of "entrance and title" to her rights. he therefore, in book ii. (much of which was written in august-october or september-october , as an apologetic contemporary tract), conceals the actual facts of the case, and, while perpetually accusing the regent of falsehood and perfidy, displays an extreme "economy of truth," and cannot hide the pettifogging prevarications of his party. his wiser plan would have been to cancel this book, or much of it, when he set forth later to write a history of the reformation. his party being then triumphant, he could have afforded to tell most of the truth, as in great part he does in his book iii. but he could not bring himself to throw over the narrative of his party pamphlet (book ii.), and it remains much as it was originally written, though new touches were added. the point to be made in public and in the apologetic tract was that the reformers contemplated no alteration of "authority." this was untrue. writing later (probably in - ) in his third book, knox boasts of his own initiation of the appeal to england, which included a scheme for the marriage of the earl of arran, son of the hamilton chief, chatelherault, to queen elizabeth. failing issue of queen mary, arran was heir to the scottish throne, and if he married the queen of england, the rightful queen of scotland would not be likely to wear her crown. the contemplated match was apt to involve a change of dynasty. the lure of the crown for his descendants was likely to bring chatelherault, and perhaps even his brother the archbishop, over to the side of the congregation: in short it was an excellent plot. probably the idea occurred to the leaders of the congregation at or shortly after the time when argyll and lord james threw in their lot definitely with the brethren on may . on june croft, from berwick, writes to cecil that the leaders, "from what i hear, will likely seek her majesty's" (elizabeth's) "assistance," and mean to bring arran home. some think that he is already at geneva, and he appears to have made the acquaintance of calvin, with whom later he corresponded. "they are likely to motion a marriage you know where"; of arran, that is, with elizabeth. { } moreover, one whitlaw was at this date in france, and by june , communicated the plan to throckmorton, the english ambassador. thus the scheme was of an even earlier date than knox claims for his own suggestion. he tells us that at st. andrews, after the truce of cupar muir (june ), he "burstit forth," in conversation with kirkcaldy of grange, on the necessity of seeking support from england. kirkcaldy long ago had watched the secret exit from st. andrews castle, while his friends butchered the cardinal. he was taken in the castle when knox was taken; he was a prisoner in france; then he entered the french service, acting, while so engaged, as an english spy. before and during the destruction of monasteries he was in the regent's service, but she justly suspected him of intending to desert her at this juncture. kirkcaldy now wrote to cecil, without date, but probably on june , and with the signature "zours as ye knaw." being in the regent's party openly, he was secretly betraying her; he therefore accuses her of treachery. (he left her publicly, after a pension from england had been procured for him.) he says that the regent averred that "favourers of god's word should have liberty to live after their consciences," "yet, in the conclusion of the peace" (the eight days' truce) "she has uttered her deceitful mind, having now declared that she will be enemy to all them that shall not live after her religion." _consequently_, the protestants are wrecking "all the friaries within their bounds." but knox has told us that they declared their intention of thus enjoying liberty of conscience _before_ "the conclusion of the peace," and wrecked lindores abbey during the peace! kirkcaldy adds that the regent already suspects him. kirkcaldy, having made the orthodox charge of treachery against the woman whom he was betraying, then asks cecil whether elizabeth will accept their "friendship," and adds, with an eye to arran, "i wish likewise her majesty were not too hasty in her marriage." { a} on june , writing from his house, grange, and signing his name, kirkcaldy renews his proposals. in both letters he anticipates the march of the reformers to turn the regent's garrison out of perth. on june he announces that the lords are marching thither. they had already the secret aid of lethington, who remained, like the traitor that he was, in the regent's service till the end of october. { b} knox also writes at this time to cecil from st. andrews. on june , henri ii. of france had written to the regent promising to send her strong reinforcements, { c} but he was presently killed in a tourney by the broken lance shaft of montgomery. the reformers now made tryst at perth for june , to restore "religion" and expel the scots in french service. the little garrison surrendered (their opponents are reckoned by kirkcaldy at , men), idolatry was again suppressed, and perth restored to her municipal constitution. the ancient shrines of scone were treated in the usual way, despite the remonstrances of knox, lord james, and argyll. they had threatened hepburn, bishop of moray, that if he did not join them "they neither could spare nor save his place." this was on june , on the same day he promised to aid them and vote with them in parliament. { d} knox did his best, but the dundee people began the work of wrecking; and the bishop, in anger, demanded and received the return of his written promise of joining the reformers. on the following day, irritated by some show of resistance, the people of dundee and perth burned the palace of scone and the abbey, "whereat no small number of us was offended." an old woman said that "filthy beasts" dwelt "in that den," to her private knowledge, "at whose words many were pacified." the old woman is an excellent authority. { } the pretext of perfect loyalty was still maintained by the reformers; their honesty we can appreciate. they did not wish, they said, to overthrow "authority"; merely to be allowed to worship in their own way (and to prevent other people from worshipping in theirs, which was the order appointed by the state). that any set of men may rebel and take their chances is now recognised, but the reformers wanted to combine the advantages of rebellion with the reputation of loyal subjects. persons who not only band against the sovereign, but invoke foreign aid and seek a foreign alliance, are, however noble their motives, rebels. there is no other word for them. but that they were _not_ rebels knox urged in a sermon at edinburgh, which the reformers, after devastating stirling, reached by june - (?), and the second book of his "history" labours mainly to prove this point; no change of "authority" is intended. what knox wanted is very obvious. he wanted to prevent mary stuart from enjoying her hereditary crown. she was a woman, as such under the curse of "the first blast of the trumpet," and she was an idolatress. presently, as we shall see, he shows his hand to cecil. before the reformers entered edinburgh mary of guise retired to the castle of dunbar, where she had safe access to the sea. in edinburgh knox says that the poor sacked the monasteries "before our coming." the contemporary diurnal of occurrents attributes the feat to glencairn, ruthven, argyll, and the lord james. { a} knox was chosen minister of edinburgh, and as soon as they arrived the lords, according to the "historie of the estate of scotland," sent envoys to the regent, offering obedience if she would "relax" the preachers, summoned on may , "from the horn" and allow them to preach. the regent complied, but, of course, peace did not ensue, for, according to knox, in addition to a request "that we might enjoy liberty of conscience," a demand for the withdrawal of all french forces out of scotland was made. { b} this could not be granted. presently mary of guise issued before july , in the name of the king and queen, francis ii. and mary stuart, certain charges against the reformers, which knox in his "history" publishes. { c} a remark that mary stuart lies like her mother, seems to be written later than the period (september-october ) when this book ii. was composed. the regent says that the rising was only under pretence of religion, and that she has offered a parliament for january . "a manifest lie," says knox, "for she never thought of it till we demanded it." he does not give a date to the regent's paper, but on june kirkcaldy wrote to percy that the regent "is like to grant the other party" (the reformers) "all they desire, which in part she has offered already." { a} knox seizes on the word "offered" as if it necessarily meant "offered though unasked," and so styles the regent's remark "a manifest lie." but kirkcaldy, we see, uses the words "has in part offered already" when he means that the regent has "offered" to grant some of the wishes of his allies. meanwhile the regent will allow freedom of conscience in the country, and especially in edinburgh. but the reformers, her paper goes on, desire to subvert the crown. to prove this she says that they daily receive messengers from england and send their own; and they have seized the stamps in the mint (a capital point as regards the crown) and the palace of holyrood, which lesley says that they sacked. knox replies, "there is never a sentence in the narrative true," except that his party seized the stamps merely to prevent the issue of base coin (not to coin the stolen plate of the churches and monasteries for themselves, as lesley says they did). but knox's own letters, and those of kirkcaldy of grange and sir henry percy, prove that they _were_ intriguing with england as early as june - . their conduct, with the complicity of percy, was perfectly well known to the regent's party, and was denounced by d'oysel to the french ambassador in london in letters of july. { b} elizabeth, on august , answered the remonstrances of the regent, promising to punish her officials if guilty. nobody lied more frankly than "that imperial votaress." when knox says "there is never a sentence in the narrative true," he is very bold. it was not true that the rising was merely under pretext of religion. it may have been untrue that messengers went _daily_ to england, but five letters were written between june and june . to stand on the words of the regent--"_every day_"--would be a babyish quibble. all the rest of her narrative was absolutely true. knox, on june , asked leave to enter england for secret discourse; he had already written to the same effect from st. andrews. { a} if henri sends french reinforcement, knox "is uncertain what will follow"; we may guess that authority would be in an ill way. cecil temporised; he wanted a better name than kirkcaldy's--a man in the regent's service--to the negotiations (july ). "anywise kindle the fire," he writes to croft (july ). croft is to let the reformers know that arran has escaped out of france. such a chance will not again "come in our lives." we see what the chance is! on july knox writes again to cecil, enclosing what he means to be an apology for his "blast of the trumpet," to be given to elizabeth. he says, while admitting elizabeth's right to reign, as "judged godly," though a woman, that they "must be careful not to make entrance and title to many, by whom not only shall the truth be impugned, but also shall the country be brought to bondage and slavery. god give you eyes to foresee and wisdom to avoid the apparent danger." { b} the "many" to whom "entrance and title" are not to be given, manifestly are mary stuart, queen of france and scotland. it is not very clear whether knox, while thus working against a woman's "entrance and title" to the crown on the ground of her sex, is thinking of mary stuart's prospects of succession to the throne of england or of her scottish rights, or of both. his phrase is cast in a vague way; "many" are spoken of, but it is not hard to understand what particular female claimant is in his mind. thus knox himself was intriguing with england against his queen at the very moment when in his "history" he denies that communications were frequent between his party and england, or that any of the regent's charges are true. as for opposing authority and being rebellious, the manifest fundamental idea of the plot is to marry elizabeth to arran and deny "entrance and title" to the rightful queen. it was an admirable scheme, and had arran not become a lunatic, had elizabeth not been "that imperial votaress" vowed to eternal maidenhood, their bridal, with the consequent loss of the scottish throne by mary, would have been the most fortunate of all possible events. the brethren had, in short, a perfect right to defend their creed in arms; a perfect right to change the dynasty; a perfect right to intrigue with england, and to resist a french landing, if they could. but for a reformer of the church to give a dead lady the lie in his "history" when the economy of truth lay rather on his own side, as he knew, is not so well. we shall see that knox possibly had the facts in his mind during the first interview with mary stuart. { } the lords, july , replied to the proclamation of mary of guise, saying that she accused them of a purpose "to invade her person." { a} there is not a word of the kind in the regent's proclamation as given by knox himself. they denied what the regent in her proclamation had not asserted, and what she had asserted about their dealings with england they did not venture to deny; "whereby," says spottiswoode in his "history," "it seemed there was some dealing that way for expelling the frenchmen, which they would not deny, and thought not convenient as then openly to profess." { b} the task of giving the lie to the regent when she spoke truth was left to the pen of knox. meanwhile, at dunbar, mary of guise was in evil case. she had sounded erskine, the commander of the castle, who, she hoped, would stand by her. but she had no money to pay her french troops, who were becoming mutinous, and d'oysel "knew not to what saint to vow himself." the earl of huntly, before he would serve the crown, { c} insisted on a promise of the earldom of moray; this desire was to be his ruin. huntly was a double dealer; "the gay gordons" were ever brave, loyal, and bewildered by their chiefs. by july , the scots heard of the fatal wound of henri ii., to their encouragement. both parties were in lack of money, and the forces of the congregation were slipping home by hundreds. mary, according to knox, was exciting the duke against argyll and lord james, by the charge that lord james was aiming at the crown, in which if he succeeded, he would deprive not only her daughter of the sovereignty, but the hamiltons of the succession. young and ambitious as lord james then was, and heavily as he was suspected, even in england, it is most improbable that he ever thought of being king. the congregation refused to let argyll and lord james hold conference with the regent. other discussions led to no result, except waste of time, to the regent's advantage; and, on july , mary, in council with lord erskine, huntly, and the duke, resolved to march against the reformers at edinburgh, who had no time to call in their scattered levies in the west, angus, and fife. logan of restalrig, lately an ally of the godly, surrendered leith, over which he was the superior, to d'oysel; and the congregation decided to accept a truce (july - ). at this point knox's narrative becomes so embroiled that it reminds one of nothing so much as of claude nau's attempts to glide past an awkward point in the history of his employer, mary stuart. i have puzzled over knox's narrative again and again, and hope that i have disentangled the knotted and slippery thread. it is not wonderful that the brethren made terms, for the "historie" states that their force numbered but men, whereas d'oysel and the duke led twice that number, horse and foot. they also heard from erskine, in the castle, that, if they did not accept "such appointment as they might have," he "would declare himself their enemy," as he had promised the regent. it seems that she did not want war, for d'oysel's french alone should have been able to rout the depleted ranks of the congregation. the question is, what were the terms of treaty? for it is knox's endeavour to prove that the regent broke them, and so justified the later proceedings of the reformers. the terms, in french, are printed by teulet. { } they run thus:-- . the protestants, not being inhabitants of edinburgh, shall depart next day. . they shall deliver the stamps for coining to persons appointed by the regent, hand over holyrood, and ruthven and pitarro shall be pledges for performance. . they shall be dutiful subjects, except in matters of religion. . they shall not disturb the clergy in their persons or by withholding their rents, &c., before january , . . they shall not attack churches or monasteries before that date. . the town of edinburgh shall enjoy liberty of conscience, and shall choose its form of religion as it pleases till that date. . the regent shall not molest the preachers nor suffer the clergy to molest them for cause of religion till that date. . keith, knox, and spottiswoode, add that no garrisons, french or scots, shall occupy edinburgh, but soldiers may repair thither from their garrisons for lawful business. the french soldiers are said to have swaggered in st. giles's, but no complaint is made that they were garrisoned in edinburgh. in fact, they abode in the canongate and leith. now, these were the terms accepted by the congregation. this is certain, not only because historians, knox excepted, are unanimous, but because the terms were either actually observed, or were evaded, on a stated point of construction. . the congregation left edinburgh. . they handed over the stamps of the mint, holyrood, and the two pledges. . , . we do not hear that they attacked any clerics or monastery before they broke off publicly from the treaty, and knox (i. ) admits that article was accepted. . they would not permit the town of edinburgh to choose its religion by "voting of men." on july , when huntly, chatelherault, and erskine, the neutral commander of the castle, asked for a plebiscite, as provided in the treaty of july , the truth, said the brethren, was not a matter of human votes, and, as the brethren held st. giles's church before the treaty, under article they could not be dispossessed. { a} the regent, to avoid shadow of offence, yielded the point as to article , and was accused of breach of treaty because, occupying holyrood, she had her mass there. had edinburgh been polled, the brethren knew that they would have been outvoted. { b} now, knox's object, in that part of book ii. of his "history," which was written in september-october as a tract for contemporary reading, is to prove that the regent was the breaker of treaty. his method is first to give "the heads drawn by us, which we desired to be granted." the heads are-- . no member of the congregation shall be troubled in any respect by any authority for the recent "innovation" before the parliament of january , , decides the controversies. . idolatry shall not be restored where, on the day of treaty, it has been suppressed. . preachers may preach wherever they have preached and wherever they may chance to come. . no soldiers shall be in garrison in edinburgh. . the french shall be sent away on "a reasonable day" and no more brought in without assent of the whole nobility and parliament. { a} these articles make no provision for the safety of catholic priests and churches, and insist on suppression of idolatry where it has been put down, and the entire withdrawal of french forces. knox's party could not possibly denounce these terms which they demanded as "things unreasonable and ungodly," for they were the very terms which they had been asking for, ever since the regent went to dunbar. yet, when the treaty was made, the preachers did say "our case is not yet so desperate that we need to grant to things unreasonable and ungodly." { b} manifestly, therefore, the terms actually obtained, as being "unreasonable and ungodly," were _not_ those for which the reformers asked, and which, _they publicly proclaimed_, had been conceded. knox writes, "these our articles were altered, and another form disposeth." and here he translates the terms as given in the french, terms which provide for the safety of catholics, the surrender of holyrood and the mint, but say nothing about the withdrawal of the french troops or the non-restoration of "idolatry" where it has been suppressed. he adds, "this alteration in words and order was made" (so it actually _was_ made) "without the knowledge and consent of those whose counsel we had used in all cases before"--clearly meaning the preachers, and also implying that the consent of the noble negotiators for the congregation _was_ obtained to the french articles. next day the congregation left edinburgh, after making solemn proclamation of the conditions of truce, in which they omitted all the terms of the french version, except those in their own favour, and stated (in knox's version) that all of their own terms, except the most important, namely, the removal of the french, and the promise to bring in no more, had been granted! it may be by accident, however, that the proclamation of the lords, as given by knox, omits the article securing the departure of the french. { a} there exist two ms. copies of the proclamation, in which the lords dare to assert "that the frenchmen should be sent away at a reasonable date, and no more brought in except by assent of the whole nobility and parliament." { b} of the terms really settled, except as regards the immunity of their own party, the lords told the public not one word; they suppressed what was true, and added what was false. against this formal, public, and impudent piece of mendacity, we might expect knox to protest in his "history"; to denounce it as a cause of god's wrath. on the other hand he states, with no disapproval, the childish quibbles by which his party defended their action. on reading or hearing the lords' proclamation, the catholics, who knew the real terms of treaty, said that the lords "in their proclamation had made no mention of anything promised to _them_," and "had proclaimed more than was contained in the appointment;" among other things, doubtless, the promise to dismiss the french. { a} the brethren replied to these "calumnies of papists" (as calderwood styles them), that they "proclaimed nothing that was not _finally_ agreed upon, _in word and promise_, betwixt us and those with whom the appointment was made, _whatsoever their scribes had after written_, { b} who, in very deed, had altered, both in words and sentences, our articles, _as they were first conceived_; and yet if their own writings were diligently examined, the self same thing shall be found _in substance_." this is most complicated quibbling! knox uses his ink like the cuttle- fish, to conceal the facts. the "own writings" of the regent's party are before us, and do not contain the terms proclaimed by the congregation. next, in drawing up the terms which the congregation was compelled to accept, the "scribes" of the regent's party necessarily, and with the consent of the protestant negotiators, altered the terms proposed by the brethren, but not granted by the regent's negotiators. thirdly, the congregation now asserted that "_finally_" an arrangement in conformity with their proclamation was "agreed upon _in word and promise_"; that is, verbally, which we never find them again alleging. the game was to foist false terms on public belief, and then to accuse the regent of perfidy in not keeping them. these false terms were not only publicly proclaimed by the congregation with sound of trumpets, but they were actually sent, by knox or kirkcaldy, or both, to croft at berwick, for english reading, on july . in a note i print the letter, signed by kirkcaldy, but in the holograph of knox, according to father stevenson. { } it will be remarked that the genuine articles forbidding attacks on monasteries and ensuring priests in their revenues are here omitted, while the false articles on suppression of idolatry, and expulsion of the french forces are inserted, and nothing is said about edinburgh's special liberty to choose her religion. the sending of this false intelligence was not the result of a misunderstanding. i have shown that the french terms were perfectly well understood, and were observed, except article , on which the regent made a concession. how then could men professionally godly venture to misreport the terms, and so make them at once seem more favourable to themselves and less discouraging to cecil than they really were, while at the same time (as the regent could not keep terms which she had never granted) they were used as a ground of accusation against her? this is the point that has perplexed me, for knox, no less than the congregation, seems to have deliberately said good-bye to truth and honour, unless the lords elaborately deceived their secretary and diplomatic agent. the only way in which i can suppose that knox and his friends reconciled their consciences to their conduct is this: knox tells us that "when all points were communed and agreed upon by mid- persons," chatelherault and huntly had a private interview with argyll, glencairn, and others of his party. they promised that they would be enemies to the regent if she broke any one jot of the treaty. "as much promised the duke that _he_ would do, if in case that she would not remove her french at a reasonable day . . . " the duke being especially interested in their removal. but huntly is not said to have made _this_ promise--the removal of the french obviously not being part of the "appointment." { a} next, the brethren, in arguing with the catholics about their own mendacious proclamation of the terms, said that "we proclaimed nothing which was not _finally_ agreed upon, _in word and promise_, betwixt us and those with whom the appointment was made. . . . " { b} i can see no explanation of knox's conduct, except that he and his friends pacified their consciences by persuading themselves that non-official words of huntly and chatelherault (whatever these words may have been), spoken after "all was agreed upon," cancelled the treaty with the regent, became the real treaty, and were binding on the regent! thus knox or kirkcaldy, or both, by letter; and knox later, orally in conversation with croft, could announce false terms of treaty. so great, if i am right, is a good man's power of self-persuasion! i shall welcome any more creditable theory of the reformer's behaviour, but i can see no alternative, unless the lords lied to knox. that the french should be driven out was a great point with cecil, for he was always afraid that the scots might slip back from the english to the old french alliance. on july , after the treaty of july , but before he heard of it, he insisted on the necessity of expelling the french, in a letter to the reformers. { a} he "marvels that they omit such an opportunity to help themselves." he sent a letter of vague generalities in answer to their petitions for aid. when he received, as he did, a copy of the terms of the treaty of july , in french, he would understand. as further proof that cecil was told what knox and kirkcaldy should have known to be untrue, we note that on august the regent, weary of the perpetual charges of perfidy anew brought against her, "ashamed not," writes knox, to put forth a proclamation, in which she asserted that nothing, in the terms of july - , forbade her to bring in more french troops, "as may clearly appear by inspection of the said appointment, which the bearer has presently to show." { b} why should the regent have been "ashamed" to tell the truth? if the bearer showed a false and forged treaty, the congregation must have denounced it, and produced the genuine document with the signatures. far from that, in a reply (from internal evidence written by knox), they admit, "neither do we _here_ { c} allege the breaking of the appointment made at leith (which, nevertheless, has manifestly been done), but"--and here the writer wanders into quite other questions. moreover, knox gives another reply to the regent, "by some men," in which they write "we dispute not so much whether the bringing in of more frenchmen be violating of the appointment, which the queen and her faction cannot deny to be manifestly broken by them in more cases than one," in no way connected with the french. one of these cases will presently be stated--it is comic enough to deserve record--but, beyond denial, the brethren could not, and did not even attempt to make out their charge as to the regent's breach of truce by bringing in new, or retaining old, french forces. our historians, and the biographers of knox, have not taken the trouble to unravel this question of the treaty of july . but the behaviour of the lords and of knox seems characteristic, and worthy of examination. it is not argued that mary of guise was, or became, incapable of worse than dissimulation (a case of forgery by her in the following year is investigated in appendix b). but her practices at this time were such as knox could not throw the first stone at. her french advisers were in fact "perplexed," as throckmorton wrote to elizabeth (august ). they made preparations for sending large reinforcements: they advised concession in religion: they waited on events, and the regent could only provide, at leith (which was jealous of edinburgh and anxious to be made a free burgh), a place whither she could fly in peril. meantime she would vainly exert her woman's wit among many dangers. knox, too, was exerting his wit in his own way. busied in preaching and in acting as secretary and diplomatic agent to the congregation as he was, he must also have begun in or not much later than august , the part of his "history" first written by him, namely book ii. that book, as he wrote to a friend named railton { } on october , (when much of it was already penned), is meant as a defence of his party against the charge of sedition, and was clearly intended (we reiterate) for contemporary reading at home and abroad, while the strife was still unsettled. this being so, knox continues his policy of blaming the regent for breach of the misreported treaty of july : for treachery, which would justify the brethren's attack on her before the period of truce (january , ) ran out. one clause, we know, secured the reformers from molestation before that date. despite this, knox records a case of "oppressing" a brother, "which had been sufficient to prove the appointment to be plainly violated." lord seton, of the catholic party, { a} "broke a chair on alexander whitelaw as he came from preston (pans) accompanied by william knox . . . and this he did supposing that alexander whitelaw had been john knox." so much knox states in his book ii., writing probably in september or october . but he does not here say what alexander whitelaw and william knox had been doing, or inform us how he himself was concerned in the matter. he could not reveal the facts when writing in the early autumn of , because the brethren were then still taking the line that they were loyal, and were suffering from the regent's breaches of treaty, as in the matter of the broken chair. the sole allusion here made by knox to the english intrigues, before they were manifest to all mankind in september, is this, "because england was of the same religion, and lay next to us, it was judged expedient first to prove them, which we did by one or two messengers, as hereafter, in its own place, more amply shall be declared." { b} he later inserted in book iii. some account of the intrigues of july-august , "in its own place," namely, in a part of his work occupied with the occurrences of january . { a} cecil, prior to the compact of july , had wished to meet knox at stamford. on july knox received his instructions as negotiator with england. { b} his employers say that they hear that huntly and chatelherault have promised to join the reformers if the regent breaks a jot of the treaty of july , the terms of which knox can declare. they ask money to enable them to take stirling castle, and "strength by sea" for the capture of broughty castle, on tay. yet they later complained of the regent when she fortified leith. they actually _did_ take broughty castle, and then had the hardihood to aver that they only set about this when they heard in mid-september of the fortification of leith by the regent. they aimed at it six days after their treaty of july . they asked for soldiers to lie in garrison, for men, ships, and money for their lords. bearing these instructions knox sailed from fife to holy island, near berwick, and there met croft, the governor of that town. croft kept him, not with sufficient secrecy, in berwick, where he was well known, while whitelaw was coming from cecil with his answers to the petitions of the brethren. meanwhile croft held converse with knox, who, as he reports, says that, as to the change of "authority" (that is of sovereignty, temporary at least), the choice of the brethren would be subject to elizabeth's wishes. yet the brethren contemplated no change of authority! arran ought to be kept secretly in england "till wise men considered what was in him; if misliked he put lord james second." as to what knox told croft about the terms of treaty of july , it is best to state the case in croft's own words. "he (knox) excusys the protestantes, for that the french as commyng apon them at edynbrogh when theyr popoll were departed to make new provysyon of vytaylles, forcyd them to make composycyon wyth the quene. whereyn (sayeth he) the frenchmen ar apoynted to departe out of scotland by the xth of thys monthe, and they truste verely by thys caus to be stronger, for that the duke, apon breche of promys on the quene's part, wyll take playne parte withe the protestantes." { } this is quite explicit. knox, as envoy of the lords, declares that in the treaty it is "appointed" that the french force shall leave scotland on august . (the printed calendars are not accurate.) no such matter occurred in the treaty "wyth the quene." knox added, next day, that he himself "was unfit to treat of so great matters," and croft appears to have agreed with him, for, by the reformer's lack of caution, his doings in holy island were "well known and published." consequently, when whitelaw returned to knox with cecil's reply to the requests of the brethren, the performances of knox and whitelaw were no secrets, in outline at least, to the regent's party. for this reason, lord seton, mistaking whitelaw for knox (who had set out on august to join the brethren at stirling), pursued and broke a chair on the harmless brother whitelaw. such was the regent's treacherous breach of treaty! during this episode in his curious adventures as a diplomatist, knox recommended balnaves, author of a treatise on "justification by faith," as a better agent in these courses, and with balnaves the new envoy of elizabeth, sadleir, a veteran diplomatist (wheedled in by mary of guise), transacted business henceforth. sadleir was ordered to berwick on august . elizabeth infringed the treaty of cateau cambresis, then only four months old, by giving sadleir pounds in gold, or some such sum, for the brethren. "they were tempting the duke by all means possible," { a} but he will only promise neutrality if it comes to the push, and they, argyll and lord james say (glasgow, august ), are not yet ready "to discharge this authority," that is, to depose the regent. chatelherault's promise was less vigorous than it had been reported! knox, who now acted as secretary for the congregation, was not sir henry wotton's ideal ambassador, "an honest man sent to lie abroad for his country." when he stooped to statements which seem scarcely candid, to put it mildly, he did violence to his nature. he forced himself to proclaim the loyalty of his party from the pulpit, when he could not do so without some economy of truth. { b} he inserted things in his "history," and spoke things to croft, which he should have known to be false. but he carried his point. he did advance the "union of hearts" with england, if in a blundering fashion, and we owe him eternal gratitude for his interest in the match, though "we like not the manner of the wooing." the reluctant hand of elizabeth was now inextricably caught in the gear of that great machine which broke the ancient league of france and scotland, and saved scotland from some of the sorrows of france. the papers of sadleir, elizabeth's secret agent with the scots, show the godly pursuing their old plan of campaign. to make treaty with the regent; to predict from the pulpit that she would break it; to make false statements about the terms of the treaty; to accuse her of their infringement; to profess loyalty; to aim at setting up a new sovereign power; to tell the populace that mary of guise's scanty french reinforcements--some men--came by virtue of a broken treaty; to tell sadleir that they were very glad that the french _had_ come, as they would excite popular hatred; to make out that the fortification of leith was breach of treaty;--such, in brief, were the methods of the reformers. { } they now took a new method of proving the regent's breach of treaty, that she had "set up the mass in holyrood, which they had before suppressed." _they_ were allowed to have their sermons in st. giles's, but _she_ was not to have her rites in her own abbey. balnaves still harped on the non- dismissal of the french as a breach of treaty! arran, returning from switzerland, had an interview with elizabeth in england, in mid-september, was smuggled across the border with the astute and unscrupulous thomas randolph in his train. with arran among them, chatelherault might waver as he would. meanwhile knox and willock preached up and down the country, doubtless repeating to the people their old charges against the regent. lethington, the secretary of that lady, still betrayed her, telling sadleir "that he attended upon the regent no longer than he might have a good occasion to revolt unto the protestants" (september ). balnaves got some two to three thousand pounds in gold (the sum is variously stated) from sadleir. "he saith, whatever pretence they make, the principal mark they shoot at is to make an alteration of the state and authority." this at least is explicit enough. the reformers were actually renewing the civil war on charges so stale and so false. the duke had possibly promised to desert her if she broke the truce, and now he seized on the flimsy pretence, because the congregation, as the leaders said, had "tempted him" sufficiently. they had come up to his price. arran, the hoped-for hamilton king, the hoped-for husband of the queen of england, had arrived, and with arran the duke joined the reformers. about september they forbade the regent to fortify leith. the brethren say that they have given no "provocation." six weeks earlier they had requested england to help them to seize and hold broughty castle, though the regent may not have known that detail. the regent replied as became her, and glencairn, with erskine of dun, wrecked the rich abbey of paisley. the brethren now broke the truce with a vengeance. chapter xii: knox in the war of the congregation: the regent attacked: her death: catholicism abolished, - though the regent was now to be deposed and attacked by armed force, knox tells us that there were dissensions among her enemies. some held "that the queen was heavily done to," and that the leaders "sought another end than religion." consequently, when the lords with their forces arrived at edinburgh on october , the local brethren showed a want of enthusiasm. the congregation nevertheless summoned the regent to depart from leith, and on october met at the tolbooth to discuss her formal deposition from office. willock moved that this might lawfully be done. knox added, with more reserve than usual, that their hearts must not be withdrawn from their king and queen, mary and francis. the regent, too, ought to be restored when she openly repented and submitted. willock dragged jehu into his sermon, but knox does not appear to have remarked that francis and mary were ahab and jezebel, idolaters. he was now in a position of less freedom and more responsibility than while he was a wandering prophet at large. on october the congregation summoned leith, having deposed the regent _in the name of the king and queen, francis and mary_, and of themselves as privy council! they did more. they caused one james cocky, a gold worker, to forge the great seal of francis and mary, "wherewith they sealed their pretended laws and ordinances, tending to constrain the subjects of the kingdom to rebel and favour their usurpations." their proclamations with the forged seal they issued at st. andrews, glasgow, linlithgow, perth, and elsewhere; using this seal in their letters to noblemen, who were ordered to obey arran. the gold worker, whose name is variously spelled in the french record, says that the device for the coins which the congregation meant to issue and ordered him to execute was on one side a cross with a crown of thorns, on the other the words verbum dei. the artist, cocky, was dilatory, and when the brethren were driven out of edinburgh he gave the dies, unfinished, to john achison, the chief official of the mint, who often executed coins of queen mary. { a} as professor hume brown says of the audacious statement of the brethren, that they acted in the name of their king and queen, their use of the forged royal seal, "as covering their action with an appearance of law, served its purpose in their appeals to the people." cocky and kirkcaldy were hanged by morton in . the idea of forging the great seal may have arisen in the fertile brain of lethington, who about october had at last deserted the regent, and now took knox's place as secretary of the congregation. henceforth their manifestoes say little about religion, and a great deal about the french design to conquer scotland. { b} to the wit of lethington we may plausibly attribute a proposal which, on october , knox submitted to croft. { } it was that england should lend men for the attack on the regent in leith. peace with france need not be broken, for the men may come as private adventurers, and england may denounce them as rebels. croft declined this proposal as dishonourable, and as too clearly a breach of treaty. knox replied that he had communicated croft's letter "to such as partly induced me before to write" (october ). very probably lethington suggested the idea, leaving the burden of its proposal on knox. dr. m'crie says that it is a solitary case of the reformer's recommending dissimulation; but the proceeding was in keeping with knox's previous statements about the nature of the terms made in july; with the protestations of loyalty; with the lie given to mary of guise when she spoke, on the whole, the plain truth; and generally with the entire conduct of the prophet and of the congregation. dr. m'crie justly remarks that knox "found it difficult to preserve integrity and christian simplicity amidst the crooked wiles of political intrigue." on the behaviour of the godly heaven did not smile--for the moment. scaling-ladders had been constructed in st. giles's church, "so that preaching was neglected." "the preachers spared not openly to say that they feared the success of that enterprise should not be prosperous," for this reason, "god could not suffer such contempt of his word . . . long to be unpunished." the duke lost heart; the waged soldiers mutinied for lack of pay; morton deserted the cause; bothwell wounded ormiston as he carried money from croft, and seized the cash { a}--behaving treacherously, if it be true that he was under promise not to act against the brethren. the french garrison of leith made successful sorties; and despite the valour of arran and lord james and the counsel of lethington, the godly fled from edinburgh on november , under taunts and stones cast by the people of the town. the fugitives never stopped till they reached stirling, when knox preached to them. he lectured at great length on discomfitures of the godly in the old testament, and about the benjamites, and the levite and his wife. coming to practical politics, he reminded his audience that after the accession of the hamiltons to their party, "there was nothing heard but this lord will bring these many hundred spears . . . if this earl be ours, no man in such a district will trouble us." the duke ought to be ashamed of himself. before knox came to scotland we know he had warned the brethren against alliance with the hamiltons. the duke had been on the regent's side, "yet without his assistance they could not have compelled us to appoint with the queen upon such unequal conditions" in the treaty of july. so the terms _were_ in favour of the regent, after all is said and done! { b} god had let the brethren fall, knox said, into their present condition because they put their trust in man--in the duke--a noble whose repentance was very dubious. then knox rose to the height of the occasion. "yea, whatsoever becomes of us and our mortal carcases, i doubt not but that this cause (in despite of satan) shall prevail in the realm of scotland. for as it is the eternal truth of the eternal god, so shall it once prevail . . ." here we have the actual genius of knox, his tenacity, his courage in an uphill game, his faith which might move mountains. he adjured all to amendment of life, prayer, and charity. "the minds of men began to be wonderfully erected." in arran and lord james too, manifestly not jealous rivals, randolph found "more honour, stoutness, and courage than in all the rest" (november ). already, before the flight, lethington was preparing to visit england. the conduct of diplomacy with england was thus in capable hands, and lethington was a persona grata to the english queen. meanwhile the victorious regent behaved with her wonted moderation. "she pursueth no man that hath showed himself against her at this time." she pardoned all burgesses of edinburgh, and was ready to receive the congregation to her grace, if they would put away the traitor lethington, balnaves, and some others. { a} knox, however, says that she gave the houses of the most honest men to the french. the regent was now very ill; graviter aegrotat, say francis and mary (dec. , ). { b} the truth is that the cause of knox, far from being desperate, as for an hour it seemed to the faint-hearted, had never looked so well. cecil and the english council saw that they were committed; their gift of money was known, they must bestir themselves. while they had "nourished the garboil" in scotland, fanned the flame, they professed to believe that france was aiming, through scotland, at england. they arranged for a large levy of forces at berwick; they promised money without stint: and cecil drew up the paper adopted, as i conceive, by the brethren in their latin appeal to all christian princes. the scots were to say that they originally took arms in defence of their native dynasty (the hamiltons), mary stuart having no heirs of her body, and france intending to annex scotland--which was true enough, but was not the cause of the rising at perth. that england is also aimed at is proved by the fact that mary and francis, on the seal of scotland, quarter the arms of england. knox himself had seen, and had imparted the fact to cecil, a jewel on which these fatal heraldic pretensions were made. the queen is governed by "the new authority of the house of guise." in short, elizabeth must be asked to intervene for these political reasons, not in defence of the gospel, and large preparations for armed action in scotland were instantly made. meanwhile cecil's sketch of the proper manifesto for the congregation to make, was embodied in lethington's instructions (november ) from the congregation, as well as adapted in their latin appeal to christian princes. we may suppose that a man of knox's unbending honesty was glad to have thrown off his functions as secretary to the brethren. far from disclaiming their idolatrous king and queen (the ideal policy), they were issuing proclamations headed "francis and mary," and bearing the forged signet. examples with the seal were, as late as , in the possession of the erskine of dun of that day. in them francis and mary denounce the pope as antichrist! keith, who wrote much later, styles these proclamations "pretty singular," and knox must have been of the same opinion. after lethington took the office of secretary to the congregation, knox had for some time no great public part in affairs. fife was invaded by "these bloody worms," as he calls the french; and he preached what he tells us was a "comfortable sermon" to the brethren at cupar. but lethington had secured the english alliance: lord grey was to lead foot and horse to the border; lord winter with fourteen ship set sail, and was incommoded by a storm, in which vessels of d'elboeuf, with french reinforcements for the regent, were, some lost, some driven back to harbour. as in jacobite times, french aid to the loyal party was always unfortunate, and the arrival of winter's english fleet in the forth caused d'oysel to retreat out of fife back to leith. he had nearly reached st. andrews, where knox dwelt in great agony of spirit. he had "great need of a good horse," probably because, as in october , money was offered for his head. but private assassination had no terrors for the reformer. { } knox, as he wrote to a friend on january , , had forsaken all public assemblies and retired to a life of study, because "i am judged among ourselves too extreme." when the duke of norfolk, with the english army, was moving towards berwick, where he was to make a league with the protestant nobles of scotland, knox summoned chatelherault, and the gentlemen of his party, then in glasgow. they wished norfolk to come to them by carlisle, a thing inconvenient to lord james. knox chid them sharply for sloth, and want of wisdom and discretion, praising highly the conduct of lord james. they had "unreasonable minds." "wise men do wonder what my lord duke's friends do mean, that are so slack and backward in this cause." the duke did not, however, write to france with an offer of submission. that story, ben trovato but not vero, rests on a forgery by the regent! { } the fact is that the duke was not a true protestant, his advisers, including his brother the archbishop, were catholics, and the successes of d'oysel in winter had terrified him; but, seeing an english army at hand, he assented to the league with england at berwick, as "second person of the realm of scotland" (february , ). elizabeth "accepted the realm of scotland"--chatelherault being recognised as heir-apparent to the throne thereof--for so long as the marriage of queen mary and francis i. endured, and a year later. the scots, however, remain dutiful subjects of queen mary, they say, except so far as lawless attempts to make scotland a province of france are concerned. chatelherault did not _sign_ the league till may , with arran, huntly, morton (at last committed to the cause), and the usual leaders of the congregation. with the details of the siege of leith, and with the attempts at negotiation, we are not here concerned. france, in fact, was powerless to aid the regent. since the arrival of throckmorton in france, as ambassador of england, in the previous summer ( ), the huguenots had been conspiring. they were in touch with geneva, in the east; on the north, in brittany, they appear to have been stirred up by tremaine, a cornish gentleman, and emissary of cecil, who joined throckmorton at blois, in march . stories were put about that the young french king was a leper, and was kidnapping fair-haired children, in whose blood he meant to bathe. the huguenots had been conspiring ever since september , when they seem to have sent to elizabeth for aid in money. { a} more recently they had held a kind of secret convention at nantes, and summoned bands who were to lurk in the woods, concentrate at amboise, attack the chateau, slay the guises, and probably put the king and queen mary under the prince de conde, who was by the plotters expected to take the part which arran played in scotland. it is far from certain that conde had accepted the position. in all this we may detect english intrigue and the gold of elizabeth. calvin had been consulted; he disapproved of the method of the plot, still more of the plot itself. but he knew all about it. "all turns on killing antonius," he wrote, "antonius" being either the cardinal or the duc de guise. { b} the conspiracy failed at amboise, on march - , . throckmorton was present, and describes the panic and perplexity of the court, while he eagerly asks to be promptly and secretly recalled, as suspicion has fallen on himself. he sent tremaine home through brittany, where he gathered proposals for betraying french towns to elizabeth, rather prematurely. surrounded by treachery, and destitute of funds, the guises could not aid the regent, and throckmorton kept advising cecil to "strike while the iron was hot," and paralyse french designs. the dying regent of scotland never lost heart in circumstances so desperate. even before the outbreak at perth, mary of guise had been in very bad health. when the english crossed the border to beleaguer leith, lord erskine, who had maintained neutrality in edinburgh castle, allowed her to come there to die (april , ). on april , from the castle of edinburgh, she wrote a letter to d'oysel, commanding in leith. she told him that she was suffering from dropsy; "one of her legs begins to swell. . . . you know there are but three days for the dropsy in this country." the letter was intercepted by her enemies, and deciphered. { a} on may , the english and scots made an assault, and were beaten back with loss of men. according to knox, the french stripped the fallen, and allowed the white carcases to lie under the wall, as also happened in , after the english defeat at falkirk. the regent saw them, knox says, from the castle, and said they were "a fair tapestry." "her words were heard of some," and carried to knox, who, from the pulpit, predicted "that god should revenge that contumely done to his image . . . even in such as rejoiced thereat. and the very experience declared that he was not deceived, for within few days thereafter (yea, some say that same day) began her belly and loathsome legs to swell, and so continued, till that god did execute his judgments upon her." { b} knox wrote thus on may , . { a} he was a little irritated at that time by queen mary's triumph over his friends, the murderers of riccio, and his own hasty flight from edinburgh to kyle. this may excuse the somewhat unusual and even unbecoming nature of his language concerning the dying lady, but his memory was quite wrong about his prophecy. the symptoms of the regent's malady had begun more than a week before the anglo-scottish defeat at leith, and the nature of her complaint ought to have been known to the prophet's party, as her letter, describing her condition, had been intercepted and deciphered. but the deciphering may have been done in england, which would cause delay. we cannot, of course, prove that knox was informed as to the regent's malady before he prophesied; if so, he had forgotten the fact before he wrote as he did in . but the circumstances fail to demonstrate that he had a supernormal premonition, or drew a correct deduction from scripture, and make it certain that the regent did not fall ill after his prophecy. the regent died on june , half-an-hour after the midnight of june . a report was written on june , from edinburgh castle, to the cardinal of lorraine, by captain james cullen, who some twelve years later was hanged by the regent morton. he says that since june , lord james and argyll, marischal, and glencairn, had assiduously attended on the dying lady. two hours before her death she spoke apart for a whole hour with lord james. chatelherault had seen her twice, and arran once. { b} knox mentions the visits of these lords, and says that d'oysel was forbidden to speak with her, "belike she would have bidden him farewell, for auld familiarity was great." according to knox, the regent admitted the errors of her policy, attributing it to huntly, who had deserted her, and to "the wicked counsel of her friends," that is, her brothers. at the request of the lords, she saw willock, and said, as she naturally would, that "there was no salvation but in and by the death of jesus christ." "she was compelled . . . to approve the chief head of our religion, wherein we dissent from all papists and popery." knox had strange ideas about the creed which he opposed. "of any virtue that ever was espied in king james v. (_whose daughter she_," mary stuart, "_is called_"), "to this hour ( ) we have seen no sparkle to appear." { } with this final fling at the chastity of mary of guise, the reformer takes leave of the woman whom he so bitterly hated. yet, "knox was not given to the practice so common in his day, of assassinating reputations by vile insinuations." posterity has not accepted, contemporary english historians did not accept, knox's picture of mary of guise as the wanton widow, the spawn of the serpent, who desired to cut the throat of every protestant in scotland. she was placed by circumstances in a position from which there was no issue. the fatal french marriage of her daughter was a natural step, at a moment when scottish independence could only be maintained by help of france. had she left the regency in the hands of chatelherault, that is, of archbishop hamilton, the prelate was not the man to put down protestantism by persecution, and so save the situation. if he had been, mary of guise was not the woman to abet him in drastic violence. the nobles would have revolted against the feeble duke. { } on july , the treaty of edinburgh was concluded by representatives of england (cecil was one) and of france. the reformers carried a point of essential importance, the very point which knox told croft had been secured by the appointment of july . all french forces were to be dismissed the country, except one hundred and twenty men occupying dunbar and inchkeith, in the firth of forth. a clause by which cecil thought he had secured "the kernel" for england, and left the shell to france, a clause recognising the "rightfulness" of elizabeth's alliance with the rebels, afforded mary stuart ground, or excuse, for never ratifying the treaty. it is needless here to discuss the question--was the convention of estates held after the treaty, in august, a lawful parliament? there was doubt enough, at least, to make protestants feel uneasy about the security of the religious settlement achieved by the convention. randolph, the english resident, foresaw that the acts might be rescinded. before the convention of estates met, a thanksgiving day was held by the brethren in st. giles's, and knox, if he was the author of the address to the deity, said with scientific precision, "neither in us, nor yet in our confederates was there any cause why thou shouldst have given unto us so joyful and sudden a deliverance, for neither of us both ceased to do wickedly, even in the midst of our greatest troubles." elizabeth had lied throughout with all her natural and cultivated gift of falsehood: of the veracity of the brethren several instances have been furnished. ministers were next appointed to churches, knox taking edinburgh, while superintendents (who were by no means bishops) were appointed, one to each province. erskine of dun, a layman, was superintendent of angus. a new anti-catholic kirk was thus set up on july , before the convention met and swept away catholicism. { } knox preached vigorously on "the prophet haggeus" meanwhile, and "some" (namely lethington, speaker in the convention) "said in mockage, we must now forget ourselves, and bear the barrow to build the houses of god." the unawakened lethington, and the gentry at large, merely dilapidated the houses of god, so that they became unsafe, as well as odiously squalid. that such fervent piety should grudge repairs of church buildings (many of them in a wretched state already) is a fact creditable rather to the thrift than to the state of grace of the reformers. after all their protestations, full of texts, the lords and lairds starved their preachers, but provided, by roofless aisles and unglazed windows, for the ventilation of the kirks. these men so bubbling over with gospel fervour were, in short, when it came to practice, traitors and hypocrites; nor did knox spare their unseemly avarice. the cause of the poor, and of the preachers, lay near his heart, and no man was more insensible of the temptations of wealth. lethington did not address the parliament as speaker till august . never had such a parliament met in scotland. one hundred and six barons, not of the higher order, assembled; in , when mary was a prisoner and the regent moray held the assembly, not nearly so many came together, nor on any later occasion at this period. the newcomers claimed to sit "as of old custom"; it was a custom long disused, and not now restored to vitality. a supplication was presented by "the barons, gentlemen, burgesses, and others" to "the nobility and estates" (of whom they do not seem to reckon themselves part, contrasting _themselves_ with "yourselves"). they reminded the estates how they had asked the regent "for freedom and liberty of conscience with a godly reformation of abuses." they now, by way of freedom of conscience, ask that catholic doctrine "be abolished by act of this parliament, and punishment appointed for the transgressors." the man of sin has been distributing the whole patrimony of the church, so that "the trew ministers," the schools, and the poor are kept out of their own. the actual clergy are all thieves and murderers and "rebels to the lawful authority of emperors, kings, and princes." against these charges (murder, rebellion, profligacy) they must answer now or be so reputed. in fact, it was the nobles, rather than the pope, who had been robbing the kirk, education, and the poor, which they continued to do, as knox attests. but as to doctrine, the barons and ministers were asked to lay a confession before the house. { } it will be observed that, in the petition, "emperors, kings, and princes" have "lawful authority" over the clergy. but that doctrine assumes, tacitly, that such rulers are of knox's own opinions: the kirk later resolutely stood up against kings like james vi., charles i., and charles ii. the confession was drawn up, presented, and ratified in a very few days: it was compiled in four. the huguenots in paris, in , "established a record" by drawing up a confession containing eighty articles in three days. knox and his coadjutors were relatively deliberate. they aver that all points of belief necessary for salvation are contained in the canonical books of the bible. their interpretation pertains to no man or church, but solely to "the spreit of god." that "spreit" must have illuminated the kirk as it then existed in scotland, "for we dare not receive and admit any interpretation which directly repugns to any principal point of our faith, to any other _plain_ text of scripture, or yet unto the rule of charity." as we, the preachers of the kirk then extant, were apostate monks or priests or artisans, about a dozen of us, in scotland, mankind could not be expected to regard "our" interpretation, "our faith" as infallible. the framers of the confession did not pretend that it was infallible. they request that, "if any man will note in this our confession any article or sentence repugning to god's holy word," he will favour them with his criticism in writing. as knox had announced six years earlier, that, "as touching the chief points of religion, i neither will give place to man or angel . . . teaching the contrair to that which ye have heard," a controversialist who thought it worth while to criticise the confession must have deemed himself at least an archangel. two years later, written criticism was offered, as we shall see, with a demand for a written reply. the critic escaped arrest by a lucky accident. the confession, with practically no criticism or opposition, was passed en bloc on august . the evangel is candidly stated to be "death to the sons of perdition," but the confession is offered hopefully to "weak and infirm brethren." not to enter into the higher theology, we learn that the sacraments can only be administered "by lawful ministers." we learn that _they_ are "such as are appointed to the preaching of the word, or into whose mouth god has put some sermon of exhortation" and who are "lawfully chosen thereto by some kirk." later, we find that rather more than this, and rather more than some of the "trew ministeris" then had, is required. as the document reaches us, it appears to have been "mitigated" by lethington and wynram, the vicar of bray of the reformation. they altered, according to the english resident, randolph, "many words and sentences, which sounded to proceed rather of some evil conceived opinion than of any sound judgment." as lethington certainly was not "a lawful minister," it is surprising if knox yielded to his criticism. lethington and wynram also advised that the chapter on obedience to the sovereign power should be omitted, as "an unfit matter to be treated at this time," when it was not very obvious who the "magistrate" or authority might be. in this sense randolph, arran's english friend, wrote to cecil. { a} the chapter, however, was left standing. the sovereign, whether in empire, kingdom, duke, prince, or in free cities, was accepted as "of god's holy ordinance. to him chiefly pertains the reformation of the religion," which includes "the suppression of idolatry and superstition"; and catholicism, we know, is idolatry. superstition is less easily defined, but we cannot doubt that, in knox's mind, the english liturgy was superstitious. { b} to resist the supreme power, "doing that which pertains to his charge" (that is, suppressing catholicism and superstition, among other things), is to resist god. it thus appears that the sovereign is not so supreme but that he must be disobeyed when his mandates clash with the doctrine of the kirk. thus the "magistrate" or "authority"--the state, in fact--is limited by the conscience of the kirk, which may, if it pleases, detect idolatry or superstition in some act of secular policy. from this theory of the kirk arose more than a century of unrest. on august , the practical consequences of the confession were set forth in an act, by which all hearers or celebrants of the mass are doomed, for the first offence, to mere confiscation of all their goods and to corporal punishment: exile rewards a repetition of the offence: the third is punished by death. "freedom from a persecuting spirit is one of the noblest features of knox's character," says laing; "neither led away by enthusiasm nor party feelings nor success, to retaliate the oppressions and atrocities that disgraced the adherents of popery." { c} this is an amazing remark! though we do not know that knox was ever "accessory to the death of a single individual for his religious opinions," we do know that he had not the chance; the government, at most, and years later, put one priest to death. but knox always insisted, vainly, that idolaters "must die the death." to the carnal mind these rules appear to savour of harshness. the carnal mind would not gather exactly what the new penal laws were, if it confined its study to the learned dr. m'crie's life of knox. this erudite man, a pillar of the early free kirk, mildly remarks, "the parliament . . . prohibited, under certain penalties, the celebration of the mass." he leaves his readers to discover, in the acts of parliament and in knox, what the "certain penalties" were. { } the act seems, as knox says about the decrees of massacre in deuteronomy, "rather to be written in a rage" than in a spirit of wisdom. the majority of the human beings then in scotland probably never had the dispute between the old and new faiths placed before them lucidly and impartially. very many of them had never heard the ideas of geneva stated at all. "so late as ," writes dr. hay fleming, "there were above four hundred parishes, not reckoning argyll and the isles, which still lacked ministers." "the rarity of learned and godly men" of his own persuasion, is regretted by knox in the book of discipline. yet catholics thus destitute of opportunity to know and recognise the truth, are threatened with confiscation, exile, and death, if they cling to the only creed which they have been taught--after august , . the death penalty was threatened often, by scots acts, for trifles. in this case the graduated scale of punishment shows that the threat is serious. this act sounds insane, but the convention was wise in its generation. had it merely abolished the persecuting laws of the church, scotland might never have been protestant. the old faith is infinitely more attractive to mankind than the new presbyterian verity. a thing of slow and long evolution, the church had assimilated and hallowed the world-old festivals of the year's changing seasons. she provided for the human love of recreation. her sundays were holidays, not composed of gloomy hours in stuffy or draughty kirks, under the current voice of the preacher. her confessional enabled the burdened soul to lay down its weight in sacred privacy; her music, her ceremonies, the dim religious light of her fanes, naturally awaken religious emotion. while these things, with the native tendency to resist authority of any kind, appealed to the multitude, the position of the church, in later years, recommended itself to many educated men in scotland as more logical than that of knox; and convert after convert, in the noble class, slipped over to rome. the missionaries of the counter-reformation, but for the persecuting act, would have arrived in a scotland which did not persecute, and the work of the convention of might all have been undone, had not the stringent act been passed. that act apparently did not go so far as the preachers desired. thus archbishop hamilton, writing to archbishop beaton in paris, the day after the passing of the act, says, "all these new preachers openly persuade the nobility in the pulpit, to put violent hands, and slay all churchmen that will not concur and adopt their opinion. they only reproach my lord duke" (the archbishop's brother), "that he will not begin first, and either cause me to do as they do, or else to use rigour on me by slaughter, sword, or, at least, perpetual prison." { a} it is probable that the archbishop was well informed as to what the bigots were saying, though he is not likely to have "sat under" them; moreover, he would hear of their advice from his brother, the duke, with whom he had just held a long conference. { b} lesley, bishop of ross, in his "history," praises the humanity of the nobles, "for at this time few catholics were banished, fewer were imprisoned, and none were executed." the nobles interfering, the threatened capital punishment was not carried out. mob violence, oppression by protestant landlords, kirk censure, imprisonment, fine, and exile, did their work in suppressing idolatry and promoting hypocrisy. no doubt this grinding ceaseless daily process of enforcing truth, did not go far enough for the great body of the brethren, especially the godly burgesses of the towns; indeed, as early as june , , the provost, bailies, and town council of edinburgh proclaimed that idolaters must instantly and publicly profess their conversion before the ministers and elders on the penalty of the pillory for the first offence, banishment from the town for the second, and death for the third. { c} it must always be remembered that the threat of the death penalty often meant, in practice, very little. it was denounced, under mary of guise (february , ), against men who bullied priests, disturbed services, and ate meat in lent. it was denounced against shooters of wild fowl, and against those, of either religious party, who broke the proclamation of october . yet "nobody seemed one penny the worse" as regards their lives, though the punishments of fining and banishing were, on occasions, enforced against catholics. we may marvel that, in the beginning, catholic martyrs did not present themselves in crowds to the executioner. but even under the rule of rome it would not be easy to find thirty cases of martyrs burned at the stake by "the bloudie bishops," between the fifteenth century and the martyrdom of myln. by the old church was in such a hideous decline--with ruffianly men of quality in high spiritual places; with priests who did not attend mass, and in many cases could not read; with churches left to go to ruin; with license so notable that, in one foundation, the priest is only forbidden to keep a _constant_ concubine--that faith had waxed cold, and no catholic felt "ripe" for martyrdom. the elements of a league, as in france, did not exist. there was no fervently catholic town population like that of paris; no popular noble warriors, like the ducs de guise, to act as leaders. thus scotland, in this age, ran little risk of a religious civil war. no organised and armed faction existed to face the congregation. when the counter-reformation set in, many catholics endured fines and exile with constancy. the theology of the confession of faith is, of course, calvinistic. no "works" are, technically, "good" which are not the work of the spirit of our lord, dwelling in our hearts by faith. "idolaters," and wicked people, not having that spirit, can do no good works. the blasphemy that "men who live according to equity and justice shall be saved, what religion soever they have professed," is to be abhorred. "the kirk is invisible," consisting of the elect, "who are known only to god." this gave much cause of controversy to knox's catholic opponents. "the notes of the true church" are those of calvin's. as to the sacrament, though the elements be not the _natural_ body of christ, yet "the faithful, in the right use of the lord's table, so do eat the body and drink the blood of the lord jesus that he remains in them and they in him . . . in such conjunction with christ jesus as the natural man cannot comprehend." this is a highly sacramental and confessedly mystical doctrine, not less unintelligible to "the natural man" than the catholic theory which knox so strongly reprobated. alas, that men called christian have shed seas of blood over the precise sense of that touching command of our lord, which, though admitted to be incomprehensible, they have yet endeavoured to comprehend and define! a serious task for knox was to draw up, with others, a "book of the policy and discipline of the kirk," a task entrusted to them in april . in politics, till january , the lords hoped that they might induce elizabeth (then entangled with leicester, as knox knew) to marry arran, but whether "glycerium" (as bishop jewel calls her) had already detected in "the saucy youth" "a half crazy fool," as mr. froude says, or not, she firmly refused. she much preferred lord robert dudley, whose wife had just then broken her neck. the unfortunate arran had fought resolutely, knox tells us, by the side of lord james, in the winter of , but he already, in , showed strange moods, and later fell into sheer lunacy. in december died "the young king of france, husband to our jezebel--unhappy francis . . . he suddenly perished of a rotten ear . . . in that deaf ear that never would hear the truth of god" (december , ). we have little of knox's poetry, but he probably composed a translation, in verse, of a latin poem indited by one of "the godly in france," whence he borrowed his phrase "a rotten ear" (aure putrefacta corruit). "last francis, that unhappy child, his father's footsteps following plain, to christ's crying deaf ears did yield, a rotten ear was then his bane." the version is wonderfully close to the original latin. meanwhile, francis was hardly cold before arran wooed his idolatrous widow, queen mary, "with a gay gold ring." she did not respond favourably, and "the earl bare it heavily in his heart, and more heavily than many would have wissed," says knox, with whom arran was on very confidential terms. knox does not rebuke his passion for jezebel. he himself "was in no small heaviness by reason of the late death of his dear bedfellow, marjorie bowes," of whom we know very little, except that she worked hard to lighten the labours of knox's vast correspondence. he had, as he says, "great intelligence both with the churches and some of the court of france," and was the first to receive news of the perilous illness of the young king. he carried the tidings to the duke and lord james, at the hamilton house near kirk o' field, but would not name his informant. then came the news of the king's death from lord grey de wilton, at berwick, and a convention of the nobles was proclaimed for january , , to "peruse newly over again" the book of discipline. chapter xiii: knox and the book of discipline this book of discipline, containing the model of the kirk, had been seen by randolph in august , and he observed that its framers would not come into ecclesiastical conformity with england. they were "severe in that they profess, and loth to remit anything of that they have received." as the difference between the genevan and anglican models contributed so greatly to the civil war under charles i., the results may be regretted; anglicans, by , were looked on as "baal worshippers" by the precise scots. in february , randolph still thought that the book of discipline was rather in advance of what fallen human nature could endure. idolatry, of course, was to be removed universally; thus the queen, when she arrived, was constantly insulted about her religion. the lawful calling of ministers was explained; we have already seen that a lawful minister is a preacher who can get a local set of men to recognise him as such. knox, however, before his return to scotland, had advised the brethren to be very careful in examining preachers before accepting them. the people and "every several congregation" have a right to elect their minister, and, if they do not do so in six weeks, the superintendent (a migratory official, in some ways superior to the clergy, but subject to periodical "trial" by the assembly, who very soon became extinct), with his council, presents a man who is to be examined by persons of sound judgment, and next by the ministers and elders of the kirk. nobody is to be "violently intrused" on any congregation. nothing is said about an university training; moral character is closely scrutinised. on the admission of a new minister, some other ministers should preach "touching the obedience which the kirk owe to their ministers. . . . the people should be exhorted to reverence and honour their chosen ministers as the servants and ambassadors of the lord jesus, obeying the commandments which they speak from god's mouth and book, even as they would obey god himself. . . . " { } the practical result of this claim on the part of the preachers to implicit obedience was more than a century of turmoil, civil war, revolution, and reaction. the ministers constantly preached political sermons, and the state--the king and his advisers--was perpetually arraigned by them. to "reject" them, "and despise their ministry and exhortation" (as when catholics were not put to death on their instance), was to "reject and despise" our lord! if accused of libel, or treasonous libel, or "leasing making," in their sermons, they demanded to be judged by their brethren. their brethren acquitting them, where was there any other judicature? these pretensions, with the right to inflict excommunication (in later practice to be followed by actual outlawry), were made, we saw, when there were not a dozen "true ministers" in the nascent kirk, and, of course, the claims became more exorbitant when "true ministers" were reckoned by hundreds. no state could submit to such a clerical tyranny. people who only know modern presbyterianism have no idea of the despotism which the fathers of the kirk tried, for more than a century, to enforce. the preachers sat in the seats of the apostles; they had the gift of the keys, the power to bind and loose. yet the book of discipline permits no other ceremony, at the induction of these mystically gifted men, than "the public approbation of the people, and declaration of the chief minister"--later there was no "_chief_ minister," there was "parity" of ministers. any other ceremony "we cannot approve"; "for albeit the apostles used the imposition of hands, yet seeing the miracle is ceased, the using of the ceremony we judge it not necessary." the miracle had _not_ ceased, if it was true that "the commandments" issued in sermons--political sermons often--really deserved to be obeyed, as men "would obey god himself." c'est la le miracle! there could be no more amazing miracle than the infallibility of preachers! "the imposition of hands" was, twelve years later, restored; but as far as infallible sermons were concerned, the state agreed with knox that "the miracle had ceased." the political sermons are sometimes justified by the analogy of modern discussion in the press. but leading articles do not pretend to be infallible, and editors do not assert a right to be obeyed by men, "even as they would obey god himself." the preachers were often right, often wrong: their sermons were good, or were silly; but what no state could endure was the claim of preachers to implicit obedience. the difficulty in finding really qualified ministers must be met by fervent prayer, and by compulsion on the part of the estates of parliament. failing ministers, readers, capable of reading the common prayers (presently it was knox's book of these) and the bible must be found; they may later be promoted to the ministry. stationary ministers are to receive less sustenance than the migratory superintendents; the sons of the preachers must be educated, the daughters "honestly dowered." the payment is mainly in "bolls" of meal and malt. the state of the poor, "fearful and horrible" to say, is one of universal contempt. provision must be made for the aged and weak. superintendents, after election, are to be examined by all the ministers of the province, and by three or more superintendents. other ceremonies "we cannot allow." in , a scottish catholic, burne, averred that willock objected to ceremonies of ordination, because people would say, if these are necessary, what minister ordained _you_? the query was hard to answer, so ceremonies of ordination could not be allowed. the story was told to burne, he says, by an eyewitness, who heard willock. every church must have a schoolmaster, who ought to be able to teach grammar and latin. education should be universal: poor children of ability must be enabled to pass on to the universities, through secondary schools. at st. andrews the three colleges were to have separate functions, not clashing, and culminating in divinity. whence are the funds to be obtained? here the authors bid "your honours" "have respect to your poor brethren, the labourers of the ground, who by these cruel beasts, the papists, have been so oppressed . . . " they ought only to pay "reasonable teinds, that they may feel some benefit of christ jesus, now preached unto them. with grief of heart we hear that some gentlemen are now as cruel over their tenants as ever were the papists, requiring of them whatsoever they paid to the church, so that the papistical tyranny shall only be changed into the tyranny of the landlord or laird." every man should have his own teinds, or tithes; whereas, in fact, the great lay holders of tithes took them off other men's lands, a practice leading to many blood-feuds. the attempt of charles i. to let "every man have his own tithes," and to provide the preachers with a living wage, was one of the causes of the distrust of the king which culminated in the great civil war. but knox could not "recover for the church her liberty and freedom, and that only for relief of the poor." "_we speak not for ourselves_" the book says, "but in favour of the poor, and the labourers defrauded . . . the church is only bound to sustain and nourish her charges . . . to wit the ministers of the kirk, the poor, and the teachers of youth." the funds must be taken out of the tithes, the chantries, colleges, chaplainries, and the temporalities of bishops, deans, and cathedrals generally. the ministers are to have their manses, and glebes of six acres; to this many of the lords assented, except, oddly enough, those redoubtable leaders of the congregation, glencairn and morton, with marischal. all the part of the book which most commands our sympathy, the most christian part of the book, regulating the disposition of the revenues of the fallen church for the good of the poor, of education, and of the kirk, remained a dead letter. the duke, arran, lord james, and a few barons, including the ruffian andrew ker of faldonside, with glencairn and ochiltree, signed it, in token of approval, but little came of it all. lethington, probably, was the scoffer who styled these provisions "devout imaginations." the nobles and lairds, many of them, were converted, in matter of doctrine; in conduct they were the most avaricious, bloody, and treacherous of all the generations which had banded, revelled, robbed, and betrayed in scotland. there is a point in this matter of the kirk's claim to the patrimony of the old church which perhaps is generally misunderstood. that point is luminous as regards the absolute disinterestedness of knox and his companions, both in respect to themselves and their fellow-preachers. the book of discipline contains a sentence already quoted, conceived in what we may justly style a chivalrous contempt of wealth. "your honours may easily understand _that we speak not now for ourselves_, but in favour of the poor, and the labourers defrauded . . . " not having observed a point which "their honours" were not the men to "understand easily," father pollen writes, "the new preachers were loudly _claiming for themselves_ the property of the rivals whom they had displaced." { } for themselves they were claiming a few merks, and a few bolls of meal, a decent subsistence. mr. taylor innes points out that when, just before darnley's murder, mary offered "a considerable sum for the maintenance of the ministers," knox and others said that, for their sustentation, they "craved of the auditors the things that were necessary, as of duty the pastors might justly crave of their flock. the general assembly accepted the queen's gift, but only of necessity; it was by their flock that they ought to be sustained. to take from others contrary to their will, whom they serve not, they judge it not their duty, nor yet reasonable." among other things the preachers, who were left with a hard struggle for bare existence, introduced a rule of honour scarcely known to the barons and nobles, except to the bold buccleuch who rejected an english pension from henry viii., with a sympathetic explosion of strong language. the preachers would not take gifts from england, even when offered by the supporters of their own line of policy. knox's failure in his admirable attempt to secure the wealth of the old church for national purposes was, as it happened, the secular salvation of the kirk. neither catholicism nor anglicanism could be fully introduced while the barons and nobles held the tithes and lands of the ancient church. possessing the wealth necessary to a catholic or anglican establishment, they were resolutely determined to cling to it, and oppose any church except that which they starved. the bishops of james i., charles i., and charles ii. were detested by the nobles. rarely from them came any lordly gifts to learning and the universities, while from the honourably poor ministers such gifts could not come. the universities were founded by prelates of the old church, doing their duty with their wealth. the arrangements for discipline were of the drastic nature which lingered into the days of burns and later. the results may be studied in the records of kirk sessions; we have no reason to suppose that sexual morality was at all improved, on the whole, by "discipline," though it was easier to enforce "sabbath observance." a graduated scale of admonitions led up to excommunication, if the subject was refractory, and to boycotting with civil penalties. the processes had no effect, or none that is visible, in checking lawlessness, robbery, feuds, and manslayings; and, after the reformation, witchcraft increased to monstrous proportions, at least executions of people accused of witchcraft became very numerous, in spite of provision for sermons thrice a week, and for weekly discussions of the word. the book of discipline, modelled on the genevan scheme, and on that of a'lasco for his london congregation, rather reminds us of the "laws" of plato. it was a well meant but impracticable ideal set before the country, and was least successful where it best deserved success. it certainly secured a thoroughly moral clergy, till, some twelve years later, the nobles again thrust licentious and murderous cadets into the best livings and the bastard bishoprics, before and during the regency of morton. their example did not affect the genuine ministers, frugal god- fearing men. chapter xiv: knox and queen mary, in discussing the book of discipline, that great constructive effort towards the remaking of scotland, we left knox at the time of the death of his first wife. on december , , he was one of some six ministers who, with more numerous lay representatives of districts, sat in the first general assembly. they selected some new preachers, and decided that the church of restalrig should be destroyed as a monument of idolatry. a fragment of it is standing yet, enclosing tombs of the wild logans of restalrig. the assembly passed an act against lawless love, and invited the estates and privy council to "use sharp punishment" against some "idolaters," including eglintoun, cassilis, and quentin kennedy, abbot of crosraguel, who disputed later against knox, the laird of gala (a scott) and others. in january a convention of nobles and lairds at edinburgh perused the book of discipline, and some signed it, platonically, while there was a dispute between the preachers and certain catholics, including lesley, later bishop of ross, an historian, but no better than a shifty and dangerous partisan of mary stuart. the lord james was selected as an envoy to mary, in france. he was bidden to refuse her even the private performance of the rites of her faith, but declined to go to that extremity; the question smouldered through five years. randolph expected "a mad world" on mary's return; he was not disappointed. meanwhile the catholic earls of the north, of whom huntly was the fickle leader, with bothwell, "come to work what mischief he can," are accused by knox of a design to seize edinburgh, before the parliament in may . nothing was done, but there was a very violent robin hood riot; the magistrates were besieged and bullied, knox declined to ask for the pardon of the brawlers, and, after excursions and alarms, "the whole multitude was excommunicate" until they appeased the kirk. they may have borne the spiritual censure very unconcernedly. the catholic earls now sent lesley to get mary's ear before the lord james could reach her. lesley arrived on april , with the offer to raise , men, if mary would land in huntly's region. they would restore the mass in their bounds, and mary would be convoyed by captain cullen, a kinsman of huntly, and already mentioned as the captain of the guards after riccio's murder. it is said by lesley that mary had received, from the regent, her mother, a description of the nobles of scotland. if so, she knew huntly for the ambitious traitor he was, a man peculiarly perfidious and self-seeking, with a son who might be thrust on her as a husband, if once she were in huntly's hands. the queen knew that he had forsaken her mother's cause; knew, perhaps, of his old attempt to betray scotland to england, and she was aware that no northern earl had raised his banner to defend the church. she, therefore, came to no agreement with lesley, but confided more in the lord james, who arrived on the following day. mary knew her brother's character fairly well, and, if lesley says with truth that he now asked for, and was promised, the earldom of moray, the omen was evil for huntly, who practically held the lands. { a} a bargain, on this showing, was initiated. lord james was to have the earldom, and he got it; mary was to have his support. much has been said about lord james's betrayal to throckmorton of mary's intentions, as revealed by her to himself. but what lord james said to throckmorton amounts to very little. i am not certain that, both in paris with throckmorton, and in london with elizabeth and cecil, he did not moot his plan for friendship between mary and elizabeth, and elizabeth's recognition of mary's rights as her heir. { b} lord james proposed all this to elizabeth in a letter of august , . { c} he had certainly discussed this admirable scheme with lord robert dudley at court, in may , on his return from france. { d} nothing could be more statesmanlike and less treacherous. meanwhile (may , ) the brethren presented a supplication to the parliament, with clauses, which, if conceded, would have secured the stipends of the preachers. the prayers were granted, in promise, and a great deal of church wrecking was conscientiously done; the lord james, on his return, paid particular attention to idolatry in his hoped for earldom, but the preachers were not better paid. meanwhile the protestants looked forward to the queen's arrival with great searchings of heart. she had not ratified the treaty of leith, but already cardinal guise hoped that she and elizabeth would live in concord, and heard that mary ceded all claims to the english throne in return for elizabeth's promise to declare her the heir, if she herself died childless (august ). { } knox, who had not loved mary of guise, was not likely to think well of her daughter. mary, again, knew knox as the chief agitator in the tumults that embittered her mother's last year, and shortened her life. in france she had threatened to deal with him severely, ignorant of his power and her own weakness. she could not be aware that knox had suggested to cecil opposition to her succession to the throne on the ground of her sex. knox uttered his forebodings of the queen's future: they were as veracious as if he had really been a prophet. but he was, to an extent which can only be guessed, one of the causes of the fulfilment of his own predictions. to attack publicly, from the pulpit, the creed and conduct of a girl of spirit; to provoke cruel insults to her priests whom she could not defend; was apt to cause, at last, in great measure that wild revolt of temper which drove mary to her doom. her health suffered frequently from the attempt to bear with a smiling face such insults as no european princess, least of all elizabeth, would have endured for an hour. there is a limit to patience, and before mary passed that limit, randolph and lethington saw, and feebly deplored, the amenities of the preacher whom men permitted to "rule the roast." "ten thousand swords" do not leap from their scabbards to protect either the girl mary stuart or the woman marie antoinette. not that natural indignation was dead, but it ended in words. people said, "the queen's mass and her priests will we maintain; this hand and this rapier will fight in their defence." so men bragged, as knox reports, { a} but when after mary's arrival priests were beaten or pilloried, not a hand stirred to defend them, not a rapier was drawn. the queen might be as safely as she was deeply insulted through her faith. she was not at this time devoutly ardent in her creed, though she often professed her resolution to abide in it. gentleness might conceivably have led her even to adopt the anglican faith, or so it was deemed by some observers, but insolence and outrage had another effect on her temper. mary landed at leith in a thick fog on august , . she was now in a country where she lay under sentence of death as an idolater. her continued existence was illegal. with her came mary seton, mary beaton, mary livingstone, and mary fleming, the comrades of her childhood; and her uncles, the duc d'aumale, francis de lorraine, and the noisy marquis d'elboeuf. she was not very welcome. as late as august , randolph reports that her brother, lord james, lethington, and morton "wish, as you do, she might be stayed yet for a space, and if it were not for their obedience sake, some of them care not though they never see her face." { b} none the less, on june lord james tells mary that he had given orders for her palace to be prepared by the end of july. he informs her that "many" hope that she will never come home. nothing is "so necessary . . . as your majesty's own presence"; and he hopes she will arrive punctually. if she cannot come she should send her commission to some of her protestant advisers, by no means including the archbishop of st. andrews (hamilton), with whom he will never work. it is not easy to see why lord james should have wished that mary "might be stayed," unless he merely dreaded her arrival while elizabeth was in a bad temper. his letter to elizabeth of august is incompatible with treachery on his part. "mr. knox is determined to abide the uttermost, and others will not leave him till god have taken his life and theirs together." of what were these heroes afraid? a "familiar," a witch, of lady huntly's predicted that the queen would never arrive. "if false, i would she were burned for a witch," adds honest randolph. lethington deemed his "own danger not least." two galleys full of ladies are not so alarming; did these men, practically hinting that english ships should stop their queen, think that the catholics in scotland were too strong for them? not a noble was present to meet mary when in the fog and filth of leith she touched scottish soil, except her natural brother, lord robert. { } the rest soon gathered with faces of welcome. she met some robin hood rioters who lay under the law, and pardoned these roisterers (with their excommunication could she interfere?), because, says knox, she was instructed that they had acted "in despite of the religion." their festival had been forbidden under the older religion, as it happens, in , and was again forbidden later by mary herself. all was mirth till sunday, when the queen's french priest celebrated mass in her own chapel before herself, her three uncles, and montrose. the godly called for the priest's blood, but lord james kept the door, and his brothers protected the priest. disappointed of blood, "the godly departed with great grief of heart," collecting in crowds round holyrood in the afternoon. next day the council proclaimed that, till the estates assembled and deliberated, no innovation should be made in the religion "publicly and universally standing." the queen's servants and others from france must not be molested--on pain of death, the usual empty threat. they were assaulted, and nobody was punished for the offence. arran alone made a protest, probably written by knox. who but knox could have written that the mass is "much more abominable and odious in the sight of god" than murder! many an honest brother was conspicuously of the opinion which arran's protest assigned to omnipotence. next sunday knox "thundered," and later regretted that "i did not that i might have done" (caused an armed struggle?), . . . "for god had given unto me credit with many, who would have put into execution god's judgments if i would only have consented thereto." mary might have gone the way of jezebel and athaliah but for the mistaken lenity of knox, who later "asked god's mercy" for not being more vehement. in fact, he rather worked "to slokin that fervency." { } let us hope that he is forgiven, especially as randolph reports him extremely vehement in the pulpit. his repentance was publicly expressed shortly before the murder of riccio. (in december , probably, when the kirk ordered the week's fast that, as it chanced, heralded riccio's doom.) privately to cecil, on october , , he uttered his regret that he had been so deficient in zeal. cecil had been recommending moderation. { } on august , randolph, after describing the intimidation of the priest, says "john knox thundereth out of the pulpit, so that i fear nothing so much as that one day he will mar all. he ruleth the roast, and of him all men stand in fear." in public at least he did not allay the wrath of the brethren. on august , or on september , knox had an interview with the queen, and made her weep. randolph doubted whether this was from anger or from grief. knox gives mary's observations in the briefest summary; his own at great length, so that it is not easy to know how their reasoning really sped. her charges were his authorship of the "monstrous regiment of women"; that he caused great sedition and slaughter in england; and that he was accused of doing what he did by necromancy. the rest is summed up in "&c." he stood to his guns about the "monstrous regiment," and generally took the line that he merely preached against "the vanity of the papistical religion" and the deceit, pride, and tyranny of "that roman antichrist." if one wishes to convert a young princess, bred in the catholic faith, it is not judicious to begin by abusing the pope. this too much resembles the arbitrary and violent method of peter in the tale of a tub (by dr. jonathan swift); such, however, was the method of knox. mary asking if he denied her "just authority," knox said that he was as well content to live under her as paul under nero. this, again, can hardly be called an agreeable historical parallel! knox hoped that he would not hurt her or her authority "so long as ye defile not your hands with the blood of the saints of god," as if mary was panting to distinguish herself in that way. his hope was unfulfilled. no "saints" suffered, but he ceased not to trouble. knox also said that if he had wanted "to trouble your estate because you are a woman, i might have chosen a time more convenient for that purpose than i can do now, when your own presence is in the realm." he _had_, in fact, chosen the convenient time in his letter to cecil, already quoted (july , ), but he had not succeeded in his plan. he said that nobody could _prove_ that the question of discarding mary, on the ground of her sex, "was at any time moved in public or in secret." nobody could _prove_ it, for nobody could publish his letter to cecil. probably he had this in his mind. he did not say that the thing had not happened, only that "he was assured that neither protestant nor papist shall be able to prove that any such question was at any time moved, either in public or in secret." { } he denied that he had caused sedition in england, nor do we know what mary meant by this charge. his appeals, from abroad, to a phinehas or jehu had not been answered. as to magic, he always preached against the practice. mary then said that knox persuaded the people to use religion not allowed by their princes. he justified himself by biblical precedents, to which she replied that daniel and abraham did not resort to the sword. they had not the chance, he answered, adding that subjects might resist a prince who exceeded his bounds, as sons may confine a maniac father. the queen was long silent, and then said, "i perceive my subjects shall obey you and not me." knox said that all should be subject unto god and his church; and mary frankly replied, "i will defend the church of rome, for i think that it is the true church of god." she could not defend it! knox answered with his wonted urbanity, that the church of rome was a harlot, addicted to "all kinds of fornication." he was so accustomed to this sort of rhetoric that he did not deem it out of place on this occasion. his admirers, familiar with his style, forget its necessary effect on "a young princess unpersuaded," as lethington put it. mary said that her conscience was otherwise minded, but knox knew that all consciences of "man or angel" were wrong which did not agree with his own. the queen had to confess that in argument as to the unscriptural character of the mass, he was "owre sair" for her. he said that he wished she would "hear the matter reasoned to the end." she may have desired that very thing: "ye may get that sooner than ye believe," she said; but knox expressed his disbelief that he would ever get it. papists would never argue except when "they were both judge and party." knox himself never answered ninian winzet, who, while printing his polemic, was sought for by the police of the period, and just managed to escape. there was, however, a champion who, on november , challenged knox and the other preachers to a discussion, either orally or by interchange of letters. this was mary's own chaplain, rene benoit. mary probably knew that he was about to offer to meet "the most learned john knox and other most erudite men, called ministers"; it is thus that rene addresses them in his "epistle" of november . he implores them not to be led into heresy by love of popularity or of wealth; neither of which advantages the preachers enjoyed, for they were detested by loose livers, and were nearly starved. benoit's little challenge, or rather request for discussion, is a model of courtesy. knox did not meet him in argument, as far as we are aware; but in , fergusson, minister of dunfermline, replied in a tract full of scurrility. one quite unmentionable word occurs, and "impudent lie," "impudent and shameless shavelings," "baal's chaplains that eat at jezebel's table," "pestilent papistry," "abominable mass," "idol bishops," "we christians and you papists," and parallels between benoit and "an idolatrous priest of bethel," between mary and jezebel are among the amenities of this meek servant of christ in dunfermline. benoit presently returned to france, and later was confessor to henri iv. the discussion which mary anticipated never occurred, though her champion was ready. knox does not refer to this affair in his "history," as far as i am aware. { } was rene the priest whom the brethren menaced and occasionally assaulted? considering her chaplain's offer, it seems not unlikely that mary was ready to listen to reasoning, but to call the pope "antichrist," and the church "a harlot," is not argument. knox ended his discourse by wishing the queen as blessed in scotland as deborah was in israel. the mere fact that mary spoke with him "makes the papists doubt what shall come of the world," { a} says randolph; and indeed nobody knows what possibly might have come, had knox been sweetly reasonable. but he told his friends that, if he was not mistaken, she had "a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate heart against god and his truth." she showed none of these qualities in the conversation as described by himself; but her part in it is mainly that of a listener who returns not railing with railing. knox was going about to destroy the scheme of les politiques, randolph, lethington, and the lord james. they desired peace and amity with england, and the two scots, at least, hoped to secure these as the cardinal guise did, by mary's renouncing all present claim to the english throne, in return for recognition as heir, if elizabeth died without issue. elizabeth, as we know her, would never have granted these terms, but mary's ministers, lethington then in england, lord james at home, tried to hope. { b} lord james had heard mary's outburst to knox about defending her own insulted church, but he was not nervously afraid that she would take to dipping her hands in the blood of the saints. neither he nor lethington could revert to the old faith; they had pecuniary reasons, as well as convictions, which made that impossible. lethington, returned to edinburgh (october ), spoke his mind to cecil. "the queen behaves herself . . . as reasonably as we can require: if anything be amiss the fault is rather in ourselves. you know the vehemency of mr. knox's spirit which cannot be bridled, and yet doth utter sometimes such sentences as cannot easily be digested by a weak stomach. i would wish he should deal with her more gently, being a young princess unpersuaded. . . . surely in her comporting with him she declares a wisdom far exceeding her age." { a} vituperation is not argument, and gentleness is not unchristian. st. paul did not revile the gods of felix and festus. but, prior to these utterances of october, the brethren had been baiting mary. on her public entry (which knox misdates by a month) her idolatry was rebuked by a pageant of korah, dathan, and abiram. huntly managed to stop a burning in effigy of a priest at the mass. they never could cease from insulting the queen in the tenderest point. the magistrates next coupled "mess-mongers" with notorious drunkards and adulterers, "and such filthy persons," in a proclamation, so the provost and bailies were "warded" (knox says) in the tolbooth. knox blamed lethington and lord james, in a letter to cecil; { b} in his "history" he says, "god be merciful to some of our own." { c} the queen herself, as a papist, was clearly insulted in the proclamation. moray and lethington, the latter touched by her "readiness to hear," and her gentleness in the face of protestant brutalities; the former, perhaps, lured by the hope of obtaining, as the price of his alliance, the earldom of moray, were by the end of october still attempting to secure amity between her and elizabeth, and to hope for the best, rather than drive the queen wild by eternal taunts and menaces. the preachers denounced her rites at hallowmass (all saints), and a servant of her brother, lord robert, beat a priest; but men actually doubted whether subjects might interfere between the queen and her religion. there was a discussion on this point between the preachers and the nobles, and the church in geneva (calvin) was to be consulted. knox offered to write, but lethington said that he would write, as much stood on the "information"; that is, on the manner of stating the question. lethington did not know, and knox does not tell us in his "history" that he had himself, a week earlier, put the matter before calvin in his own way. even lord james, he says to calvin, though the abdiel of godliness, "is afraid to overthrow that idol by violence"--idolum illud missalicum. { } knox's letter to calvin represents the queen as alleging that he has already answered the question, declaring that knox's party has no right to interfere with the royal mass. this rumour knox disbelieves. he adds that arran would have written, but was absent. apparently arran did write to calvin, anonymously, and dating from london, november , . the letter, really from scotland, is in french. the writer acknowledges the receipt, about august , of an encouraging epistle from calvin. he repeats knox's statements, in the main, and presses for a speedy reply. he says that he goes seldom to court, both on account of "that idol," and because "sobriety and virtue" have been exiled. { a} as arran himself "is known to have had company of a good handsome wench, a merchant's daughter," which led to a riot with bothwell, described by randolph (december , ), his own "virtue and sobriety" are not conspicuous. { b} he was in edinburgh on november - , and the london date of his anonymous letter is a blind. { c} it does not appear that calvin replied to knox, and to the anonymous correspondent, in whom i venture to detect arran; or, if he answered, his letter was probably unfavourable to knox, as we shall argue when the subject later presents itself. finally--"the votes of the lords prevailed against the ministers"; the queen was allowed her mass, but lethington, a minister of the queen, did not consult a foreigner as to the rights of her subjects against her creed. the lenity of lord james was of sudden growth. at stirling he and argyll had gallantly caused the priests to leave the choir "with broken heads and bloody ears," the queen weeping. so randolph reported to cecil (september ). why her brother, foremost to insult mary and her faith, unless randolph errs, in september, took her part in a few weeks, we do not know. at perth, mary was again offended, and suffered in health by reason of the pageants; "they did too plainly condemn the errors of the world. . . . i hear she is troubled with such sudden passions after any great unkindness or grief of mind," says randolph. she was seldom free from such godly chastisements. at perth, however, some one gave her a cross of five diamonds with pendant pearls. meanwhile the statesmen did not obey the ministers as men ought to obey god: a claim not easily granted by carnal politicians. chapter xv: knox and queen mary (continued), - had mary been a mere high-tempered and high-spirited girl, easily harmed in health by insults to herself and her creed, she might now have turned for support to huntly, cassilis, montrose, and the other earls who were catholic or "unpersuaded." her great-grandson, charles ii., when as young as she now was, did make the "start"--the schoolboy attempt to run away from the presbyterians to the loyalists of the north. but mary had more self-control. the artful randolph found himself as hardly put to it now, in diplomacy, as the cardinal's murderers had done, in war, when they met the scientific soldier, strozzi. "the trade is now clean cut off from me," wrote randolph (october ); "i have to traffic now with other merchants than before. they know the value of their wares, and in all places how the market goeth. . . . whatsoever policy is in all the chief and best practised heads of france; whatsoever craft, falsehood, or deceit is in all the subtle brains of scotland," said the unscrupulous agent, "is either fresh in this woman's memory, or she can bring it out with a wet finger." { } mary, in fact, was in the hands of lethington (a pensioner of elizabeth) and of lord james: "subtle brains" enough. _she_ was the "merchandise," and lethington and lord james wished to make elizabeth acknowledge the scottish queen as her successor, the alternative being to seek her price as a wife for an european prince. an "union of hearts" with england might conceivably mean mary's acceptance of the anglican faith. it is not a kind thing to say about mary, but i suspect that, if assured of the english succession, she might have gone over to the prayer book. in the first months of her english captivity (july ) mary again dallied with the idea of conversion, for the sake of freedom. she told the spanish ambassador that "she would sooner be murdered," but if she could have struck her bargain with elizabeth, i doubt that she would have chosen the prayer book rather than the dagger or the bowl. { a} her conversion would have been bitterness as of wormwood to knox. in his eyes anglicanism was "a bastard religion," "a mingle-mangle now commanded in your kirks." "peculiar services appointed for saints' days, diverse collects as they falsely call them in remembrance of this or that saint . . . are in my conscience no small portion of papistical superstition." { b} "crossing in baptism is a diabolical invention; kneeling at the lord's table, mummelling," (uttering the responses, apparently), "or singing of the litany." all these practices are "diabolical inventions," in knox's candid opinion, "with mr. parson's pattering of his constrained prayers, and with the mass-munging of mr. vicar, and of his wicked companions . . ." (a blank in the ms.) "your ministers, before for the most part, were none of christ's ministers, but mass-mumming priests." he appears to speak of the anglican church as it was under edward vi. (to mrs. locke, dieppe, april , .) { a} as elizabeth brought in "cross and candle," her church must have been odious to our reformer. calvin had regarded the "silly things" in our prayer book as "endurable," not so knox. before he came back to scotland, the reformers were content with the english prayer book. by rejecting it, knox and his allies disunited scotland and england. knox's friend arran was threatening to stir up the congregation for the purpose of securing him in the revenues of three abbeys, including st. andrews, of which lord james was prior. the extremists raised the question, "whether the queen, being an idolater, may be obeyed in all civil and political actions." { b} knox later made chatelherault promise this obedience; what his views were in november we know not. lord james was already distrusted by his old godly friends; it was thought he would receive what he had long desired, the earldom of moray (november , ), and the precise professors meditated a fresh revolution. "it must yet come to a new day," they said. { c} those about arran were discontented, and nobody was more in his confidence than knox, but at this time arran was absent from edinburgh; was at st. andrews. meanwhile, at court, "the ladies are merry, dancing, lusty, and fair," wrote randolph, who flirted with mary beaton (november ); and long afterwards, in , when she was lady boyne, spoke of her as "a very dear friend." knox complains that the girls danced when they "got the house alone"; not a public offence! he had his intelligencers in the palace. there was, on november , a panic in the unguarded palace: { a} "the poor damsels were left alone," while men hid in fear of nobody knew what, except a rumour that arran was coming, with his congregational friends, "to take away the queen." the story was perhaps a fable, but arran had been uttering threats. mary, however, expected to be secured by an alliance with elizabeth. "the accord between the two queens will quite overthrow them" (the bishops), "and they say plainly that she cannot return a true christian woman," writes randolph. { b} lethington and randolph both suspected that if mary abandoned idolatry, it would be after conference with elizabeth, and rather as being converted by that fair theologian than as compelled by her subjects. unhappily elizabeth never would meet mary, who, for all that we know, might at this hour have adopted the anglican via media, despite her protests to knox and to the pope of her fidelity to rome. like henri iv., she may at this time have been capable of preferring a crown--that of england--to a dogma. her mass, randolph wrote, "is rather for despite than devotion, for those that use it care not a straw for it, and jest sometimes against it." { c} randolph, at this juncture, reminded mary that advisers of the catholic party had prevented james v. from meeting henry viii. she answered, "something is reserved for us that was not then," possibly hinting at her conversion. lord james shared the hopes of lethington and randolph. "the papists storm, thinking the meeting of the queens will overthrow mass and all." the ministers of mary, les politiques, indulged in dreams equally distasteful to the catholics and to the more precise of the godly; dreams that came through the ivory gate; with pictures of the island united, and free from the despotism of giant pope and giant presbyter. { } a schism between the brethren and their old leaders and advisers, lord james and lethington, was the result. at the general assembly of december , the split was manifest. the parties exchanged recriminations, and there was even question of the legality of such conventions as the general assembly. lethington asked whether the queen "allowed" the gathering. knox (apparently) replied, "take from us the freedom of assemblies, and take from us the evangel . . ." he defended them as necessary for order among the preachers; but the objection, of course, was to their political interferences. the question was to be settled for cromwell in his usual way, with a handful of hussars. it was now determined that the queen might send commissioners to the assembly to represent her interests. the plea of the godly that mary should ratify the book of discipline was countered by the scoffs of lethington. he and his brothers ever tormented knox by persiflage. still the preachers must be supported, and to that end, by a singular compromise, the crown assumed dominion over the property of the old church, a proceeding which mary, if a good catholic, could not have sanctioned. the higher clergy retained two-thirds of their benefices, and the other third was to be divided between the preachers and the queen. vested rights, those of the prelates, and the interests of the nobles to whom, in the troubles, they had feued parts of their property, were thus secured; while the preachers were put off with a humble portion. among the abbeys, that of st. andrews, held by the good lord james, was one of the richest. he appears to have retained all the wealth, for, as bishop keith says, "the grand gulf that swallowed up the whole extent of the thirds were pensions given gratis by the queen to those about the court . . . of which last the earl of moray was always sure to obtain the thirds of his priories of st. andrews and pittenweem." in all, the whole reformed clergy received annually (but not in - ) , pounds, s. d. scots, while knox and four superintendents got a few chalders of wheat and "bear." in , when mary had fallen, a gift of pounds, s. d. was made to knox from the fund, about a seventh of the money revenue of the abbey of st. andrews. { } nobody can accuse knox of enriching himself by the revolution. "in the stool of edinburgh," he declared that two parts were being given to the devil, "and the third must be divided between god and the devil," between the preachers and the queen, and the earl of moray, among others. the eminently godly laird of pitarro had the office of paying the preachers, in which he was so niggardly that the proverb ran, "the good laird of pitarro was an earnest professor of christ, but the great devil receive the comptroller." it was argued that "many lords have not so much to spend" as the preachers; and this was not denied (if the preachers were paid), but it was said the lords had other industries whereby they might eke out their revenues. many preachers, then or later, were driven also to other industries, such as keeping public-houses. { a} knox, at this period, gracefully writes of mary, "we call her not a hoore." when she scattered his party after riccio's murder, he went the full length of the expression, in his "history." "simplicity," says thucydides, "is no small part of a noble nature," and knox was now to show simplicity in conduct, and in his narrative of a very curious adventure. the hamiltons had taken little but loss by joining the congregation. arran could not recover his claims, on whatever they were founded, over the wealth of st. andrews and dunfermline. chatelherault feared that mary would deprive him of his place of refuge, the castle of dumbarton, to which he confessed that his right was "none," beyond a verbal promise of a nineteen years "farm" (when given we know not), from mary of guise. { b} randolph began to believe that arran really had contemplated a raid on mary at holyrood, where she had no guards. { c} "why," asked arran, "was it not as easy to take her out of the abbey, as once it had been intended to do with her mother?" here were elements of trouble, and knox adds that, according to the servants of chatelherault, huntly and the hamiltons devised to slay lord james, who in january received the earldom of moray, but bore the title of earl of mar, which earldom he held for a brief space. { a} huntly had claims on moray, and hence hated lord james. arran was openly sending messengers to france; "his councils are too patent." randolph at the same time found knox and the preachers "as wilfull as learned, which heartily i lament" (january ). the rumour that mary had been persuaded by the cardinal to turn anglican "makes them run almost wild" (february ). { b} if the queen were an anglican the new kirk would be in an ill way. arran still sent retainers to france, and was reported to speak ill of mary (february ), but the duke tried to win randolph to a marriage between arran and the queen. the intended bridegroom lay abed for a week, "tormented by imaginations," but was contented, not to be reconciled with bothwell, but to pass his misdeeds in "oblivion," { c} as he declared to the privy council (february ). in these threatening circumstances bothwell made knox's friend, barron, a rich burgess who "financed" the earl, introduce him to our reformer. the earl explained that his feud with arran was very expensive; he had for his safety to keep "a number of wicked and unprofitable men about him"--his "lambs," the ormistouns, { } young hay of tala, probably, and the rest. he therefore repented, and wished to be reconciled to arran. knox, pleased at being a reconciler where nobler men had failed, and moved, after long refusal, by the entreaties of the godly, as he tells mrs. locke, advised bothwell first to be reconciled to god. so bothwell presently was, going to sermon for that very purpose. knox promised to approach arran, and bothwell, with his usual impudence, chose that moment to seize an old pupil of knox's, the young laird of ormiston (cockburn). the young laird, to be sure, had fired a pistol at his enemy. however, bothwell repented of this lapse, and at the hamilton's great house of kirk-of-field, knox made him and arran friends. next day they went to sermon together; on the following day they visited chatelherault at kinneil, some twelve miles from edinburgh. but on the ensuing day (march ) came the wild end of the reconciliation. knox had delivered his daily sermon, and was engaged with his vast correspondence, when arran was announced, with an advocate and the town clerk. arran began a conference with tears, said that he was betrayed, and told his tale. bothwell had informed him that he would seize the queen, put her in dumbarton, kill her misguiders, the "earl of moray" (mar, lord james), lethington, and others, "and so shall he and i rule all." but arran believed bothwell really intended to accuse him of treason, or knowledge of treason, so he meant to write to mary and mar. knox asked whether he had assented to the plot, and advised him to be silent. probably he saw that arran was distraught, and did not credit his story. but arran said that bothwell (as he had once done before, in ) would challenge him to a judicial combat--such challenges were still common, but never led to a fight. he then walked off with his legal advisers, and wrote to mary at falkland. { a} if arran went mad, he went mad "with advice of counsel." there had come the chance of "a new day," which the extremists desired, but its dawn was inauspicious. arran rode to his father's house of kinneil, where, either because he was insane, or because there really was a bothwell-hamilton plot, he was locked up in a room high above the ground. he let himself down from the window, reached halyards (a place of kirkcaldy of grange), and was thence taken by mar (whom knox appears to have warned) to the queen at falkland. bothwell and gawain hamilton were also put in ward there. randolph gives (march ) a similar account, but believed that there really was a plot, which arran denied even before he arrived at falkland. bothwell came to purge himself, but "was found guilty on his own confession on some points." { b} the queen now went to st. andrews, where the suspects were placed in the castle. arran wavered, accusing mar's mother of witchcraft. mary was "not a little offended with bothwell to whom she has been so good." randolph (april ) continued to think that arran should be decapitated. he and bothwell were kept in ward, and his father, the duke, was advised to give up dumbarton to the crown, which he did. { a} this was about april . knox makes a grievance of the surrender; the castle, he says, was by treaty to be in the duke's hands till the queen had lawful issue. { b} chatelherault himself, as we said, told randolph that he had no right in the place, beyond a verbal and undated promise of the late regent. knox now again illustrates his own historical methods. mary, riding between falkland and lochleven, fell, was hurt, and when randolph wrote from edinburgh on may , was not expected there for two or three days. but knox reports that, on her return from fife to edinburgh, she danced excessively till after midnight, because she had received letters "that persecution was begun again in france," by the guises. { c} now as, according to knox elsewhere, "satan stirreth his terrible tail," so did one of mary's uncles, the duc de guise, "stir his tail" against one of the towns appointed to pay mary's jointure, namely vassy, in champagne. here, on march , , a massacre of huguenots, by the guise's retainers, began the war of religion afresh. { d} now, in the first place, this could not be joyful news to set mary dancing; as it was apt to prevent what she had most at heart, her personal interview with elizabeth. she understood this perfectly well, and, in conversation with randolph, after her return to edinburgh, lamented the deeds of her uncles, as calculated "to bring them in hate and disdain of many princes," and also to chill elizabeth's amity for herself--on which her whole policy now depended (may ). { a} she wept when randolph said that, in the state of france, elizabeth was not likely to move far from london for their interview. in this mood how could mary give a dance to celebrate an event which threatened ruin to her hopes? moreover, if knox, when he speaks of "persecution begun again," refers to the slaughter of huguenots by guise's retinue, at vassy, that untoward event occurred on march , and mary cannot have been celebrating it by a ball at holyrood as late as may , at earliest. { b} knox, however, preached against her dancing, if she danced "for pleasure at the displeasure of god's people"; so he states the case. her reward, in that case, would he "drink in hell." in his "history" he declares that mary did dance for the evil reason attributed to her, a reason which must have been mere matter of inference on his part, and that inference wrong, judging by dates, if the reference is to the affair of vassy. in april both french parties were committing brutalities, but these were all contrary to mary's policy and hopes. if knox heard a rumour against any one, his business, according to the "book of discipline," was not to go and preach against that person, even by way of insinuation. { c} mary's offence, if any existed, was not "public," and was based on mere suspicion, or on tattle. dr. m'crie, indeed, says that on hearing of the affair of vassy, the queen "immediately after gave a splendid ball to her foreign servants." ten weeks after the vassy affair is not "immediately"; and knox mentions neither foreign servants nor vassy. { d} the queen sent for knox, and made "a long harangue," of which he does not report one word. he gives his own oration. mary then said that she could not expect him to like her uncles, as they differed in religion. but if he heard anything of herself that he disapproved of, "come to myself and tell me, and i shall hear you." he answered that he was not bound to come "to every man in particular," but she _could_ come to his sermons! if she would name a day and hour, he would give her a doctrinal lecture. at this very moment he "was absent from his book"; his studies were interrupted. "you will not always be at your book," she said, and turned her back. to some papists in the antechamber he remarked, "why should the pleasing face of a gentlewoman affray me? i have looked in the faces of many angry men, and yet have not been afraid above measure." he was later to flee before that pleasing face. mary can hardly be said to have had the worse, as far as manners and logic went, of this encounter, at which morton, mar, and lethington were present, and seem to have been silent. { a} meanwhile, randolph dates this affair, the dancing, the sermon, the interview, not in may, but about december - , , { b} and connects the dancing with no event in france, { c} nor can i find any such event in late november which might make mary glad at heart. knox, randolph writes, mistrusts all that the queen does or says, "as if he were of god's privy council, that knew how he had determined of her in the beginning, or that he knew the secrets of her heart so well that she neither did nor could have one good thought of god or of his true religion." his doings could not increase her respect for his religion. the affair of arran had been a sensible sorrow to knox. "god hath further humbled me since that day which men call good friday," he wrote to mrs. locke (may ), "than ever i have been in my life. . . ." he had rejoiced in his task of peace-making, in which the privy council had practically failed, and had shown great naivete in trusting bothwell. the best he could say to mrs. locke was that he felt no certainty about the fact that bothwell had tempted arran to conspire. { } the probability is that the reckless and impoverished bothwell did intend to bring in the desirable "new day," and to make the hamiltons his tools. meanwhile he was kept out of mischief and behind stone walls for a season. knox had another source of annoyance which was put down with a high hand. the dominie of the school at linlithgow, ninian winzet by name, had lost his place for being an idolater. in february he had brought to the notice of our reformer and of the queen the question, "is john knox a lawful minister?" if he was called by god, where were his miracles? if by men, by what manner of men? on march , winzet asked knox for "your answer in writing." he kept launching letters at knox in march; on march he addressed the general public; and, on march , issued an appeal to the magistrates, who appear to have been molesting people who kept easter. the practice was forbidden in a proclamation by the queen on may . { a} "the pain is death," writes randolph. { b} if mary was ready to die for her faith, as she informed a nuncio who now secretly visited her, she seems to have been equally resolved that her subjects should not live in it. receiving no satisfactory _written_ answer from knox, winzet began to print his tract, and then he got his reply from "soldiers and the magistrates," for the book was seized, and he himself narrowly escaped to the continent. { c} knox was not to be brought to a written reply, save so far as he likened his calling to that of amos and john the baptist. in september he referred to his "answer to winzet's questions" as forthcoming, but it never appeared. { d} winzet was mary's chaplain in her sheffield prison in - ; she had him made abbot of ratisbon, and he is said, by lethington's son, to have helped lesley in writing his "history." on june the general assembly, through knox probably, drew up the address to the queen, threatening her and the country with the wrath of god on her mass, which, she is assured, is peculiarly distasteful to the deity. the brethren are deeply disappointed that she does not attend their sermons, and ventures to prefer "your ain preconceived vain opinion." they insist that adulterers must be punished with death, and they return to their demands for the poor and the preachers. a new rising is threatened if wicked men trouble the ministers and disobey the superintendents. lethington and knox had one of their usual disputes over this manifesto; the secretary drew up another. "here be many fair words," said the queen on reading it; "i cannot tell what the hearts are." { a} she later found out the nature of lethington's heart, a pretty black one. the excesses of the guises in france were now the excuse or cause of the postponement of elizabeth's meeting with mary. the queen therefore now undertook a northern progress, which had been arranged for in january, about the time when lord james was made earl of moray. { b} he could not "brook" the earldom of moray before the earl of huntly was put down, huntly being a kind of petty king in the east and north. there is every reason to suppose that mary understood and utterly distrusted huntly, who, though the chief catholic in the country, had been a traitor whenever occasion served for many a year. one of his sons, john, in july, wounded an ogilvy in edinburgh in a quarrel over property. this affair was so managed as to drive huntly into open rebellion, neither mary nor her brother being sorry to take the opportunity. the business of the ruin of huntly has seemed more of a mystery to historians than it was, though an attack by a catholic princess on her most powerful catholic subject does need explanation. but randolph was with mary during the whole expedition, and his despatches are better evidence than the fables of buchanan and the surmises of knox and mr. froude. huntly had been out of favour ever since lord james obtained the coveted earldom of moray in january, and he was thought to be opposed to mary's visit to elizabeth. since january, the queen had been bent on a northern progress. probably the archbishop of st. andrews, as reported by knox, rightly guessed the motives. at table he said, "the queen has gone into the north, belike to seek disobedience; she may perhaps find the thing that she seeks." { a} she wanted a quarrel with huntly, and a quarrel she found. her northward expedition, says randolph, "is rather devised by herself than greatly approved by her council." she would not visit huntly at strathbogie, contrary to the advice of her council; his son, who wounded ogilvy, had broken prison, and refused to enter himself at stirling castle. huntly then supported his sons in rebellion, while bothwell broke prison and fortified himself in hermitage castle. lord james's earldom of moray was now publicly announced (september ), and huntly was accused of a desire to murder him and lethington, while his son john was to seize the queen. { b} mary was "utterly determined to bring him to utter confusion." huntly was put to the horn on october ; his sons took up arms. huntly, old and corpulent, died during a defeat at corrichie without stroke of sword; his mischievous son john was taken and executed, mary being pleased with her success, and declaring that huntly thought "to have married her where he would," { c} and to have slain her brother. john gordon confessed to the murder plot. { d} his eldest brother, lord gordon, who had tried to enlist bothwell and the hamiltons, lay long in prison (his sister married bothwell just before riccio's murder). the queen had punished the disobedience which she "went to seek," and moray was safe in his rich earldom, while a heavy blow was dealt at the catholicism which huntly had protected. { a} cardinal guise reports her success to de rennes, in austria, with triumph, and refers to an autograph letter of hers, of which lethington's draft has lately perished by fire, unread by historians. as the cardinal reports that she says she is trying to win her subjects back to the church, "in which she wishes to live and die" (january , - ), lethington cannot be the author of that part of her lost letter. { b} knox meanwhile, much puzzled by the news from the north, was in the western counties. he induced the lairds of ayrshire to sign a protestant band, and he had a controversy with the abbot of crosraguel. in misapplication of texts the abbot was even more eccentric than knox, though he only followed st. jerome. in his "history" knox "cannot certainly say whether there was any secret paction and confederacy between the queen herself and huntly." { c} knox decides that though mary executed john gordon and other rebels, yet "it was the destruction of others that she sought," namely, of her brother, whom she hated "for his godliness and upright plainness." { d} his upright simplicity had won him an earldom and the destruction of his rival! he and lethington may have exaggerated huntly's iniquities in council with mary, but the rumours reported against her by knox could only be inspired by the credulity of extreme ill-will. he flattered himself that he kept the hamiltons quiet, and, at a supper with randolph in november, made chatelherault promise to be a good subject in civil matters, and a good protestant in religion. knox says that preaching was done with even unusual vehemence in winter, when his sermon against the queen's dancing for joy over some unknown protestant misfortune was actually delivered, and the good seed fell on ground not wholly barren. the queen's french and scots musicians would not play or sing at the queen's christmas-day mass, whether pricked in heart by conscience, or afraid for their lives. "her poor soul is so troubled for the preservation of her silly mass that she knoweth not where to turn for defence of it," says randolph. { a} these persecutions may have gone far to embitter the character of the victim. mr. froude is certainly not an advocate of mary stuart, rather he is conspicuously the reverse. but he remarks that when she determined to marry darnley, "divide scotland," and trust to her catholic party, she did so because she was "weary of the mask which she had so long worn, and unable to endure any longer these wild insults to her creed and herself." { b} she had, in fact, given the policy of submission to "wild insults" rather more than a fair chance; she had, for a spirited girl, been almost incredibly long-suffering, when "barbarously baited," as charles i. described his own treatment by the preachers and the covenanters. chapter xvi: knox and queen mary (continued): - the new year, , found knox purging the kirk from that fallen brother, paul methuen. this preacher had borne the burden and heat of the day in - , erecting, as we have seen, the first "reformed" kirk, that of the holy virgin, in dundee, and suffering some inconvenience, if no great danger, from the clergy of the religion whose sacred things he overthrew. he does not appear to have been one of the more furious of the new apostles. contrasted with john brabner, "a vehement man inculcating the law and pain thereof," paul is described as "a milder man, preaching the evangel of grace and remission of sins in the blood of christ." { a} paul was at this time minister of jedburgh. he had "an ancient matron" to wife, recommended, perhaps, by her property, and she left him for two months with a servant maid. paul fell, but behaved not ill to the mother of his child, sending her "money and clothes at various times." knox tried the case at jedburgh; paul was excommunicated, and fled the realm, sinking so low, it seems, as to take orders in the church of england. later he returned--probably he was now penniless--"and prostrated himself before the whole brethren with weeping and howling." he was put to such shameful and continued acts of public penance up and down the country that any spirit which he had left awoke in him, and the kirk knew him no more. thus "the world might see what difference there is between darkness and light." { a} knox presently had to record a scandal in a higher place, the capture and execution of the french minor poet, chastelard, who, armed with sword and dagger, hid under the queen's bed in holyrood; and invaded her room with great insolence at burntisland as she was on her way to st. andrews. there he was tried, condemned, and executed in the market-place. it seems fairly certain that chastelard, who had joined the queen with despatches during the expedition against huntly, was a huguenot. the catholic version, and lethington's version, of his adventure was that some intriguing huguenot lady had set him on to sully queen mary's character; other tales ran that he was to assassinate her, as part of a great protestant conspiracy. { b} randolph, who knew as much as any one, thought the queen far too familiar with the poet, but did not deem that her virtue was in fault. { c} knox dilates on mary's familiarities, kisses given in a vulgar dance, dear to the french society of the period, and concludes that the fatuous poet "lacked his head, that his tongue should not utter the secrets of our queen." { d} there had been a bad harvest, and a dearth, because the queen's luxury "provoked god" (who is represented as very irritable) "to strike the staff of bread," and to "give his malediction upon the fruits of the earth. but oh, alas, who looked, or yet looks, to the very cause of all our calamities!" { a} some savage peoples are said to sacrifice their kings when the weather is unpropitious. knox's theology was of the same kind. the preachers, says randolph (february ), "pray daily . . . that god will either turn the queen's heart or grant her short life. of what charity or spirit this proceeds, i leave to be discussed by great divines." { b} the prayers sound like encouragement to jehus. at this date ruthven was placed, "by lethington's means only," on the privy council. moray especially hated ruthven "for his sorcery"; the superstitious moray affected the queen with this ill opinion of one of the elect--in the affair of riccio's murder so useful to the cause of knox. "there is not an unworthier in scotland" than ruthven, writes randolph. { c} meanwhile lethington was in england to negotiate for peace in france; if he could, to keep an eye on mary's chances for the succession, and (says knox) to obtain leave for lennox, the chief of the stuarts and the deadly foe of the hamiltons, to visit scotland, whence, in the time of henry viii., he had been driven as a traitor. but lethington was at that time confuting lennox's argument that the hamilton chief, chatelherault, was illegitimate. knox is not positive, he only reports rumours. { d} lethington's serious business was to negotiate a marriage for the queen. despite the recent threats of death against priests who celebrated mass, the archbishop hamilton and knox's opponent, the abbot of crossraguel, with many others, did so at easter. the ayrshire brethren "determined to put to their own hands," captured some priests, and threatened others with "the punishment that god has appointed to idolaters by his law." { a} the queen commanded knox to meet her at lochleven in mid-april--lochleven, where she was later to be a prisoner. in that state lay the priests of her religion, who had been ministering to the people, "some in secret houses, some in barns, some in woods and hills," writes randolph, "all are in prison." { b} mary, for two hours before supper, implored knox to mediate with the western fanatics. he replied, that if princes would not use the sword against idolaters, there was the leading case of samuel's slaughter of agag; and he adduced another biblical instance, of a nature not usually cited before young ladies. he was on safer ground in quoting the scots law as it stood. judges within their bounds were to seek out and punish "mass-mongers"--that was his courteous term. the queen, rather hurt, went off to supper, but next morning did her best to make friends with knox over other matters. she complained of ruthven, who had given her a ring for some magical purpose, later explained by ruthven, who seems to have despised the superstition of his age. the queen, says ruthven, was afraid of poison; he gave her the ring, saying that it acted as an antidote. moray was at lochleven with the queen, and moray believed, or pretended to believe, in ruthven's "sossery," as randolph spells "sorcery." she, rather putting herself at our reformer's mercy, complained that lethington alone placed ruthven in the privy council. "that man is absent," said knox, "and therefore i will speak nothing on that behalf." mary then warned him against "the man who was at time most familiar with the said john, in his house and at table," the despicable bishop of galloway, and knox later found out that the warning was wise. lastly, she asked him to reconcile the earl and countess of argyll--"do this much for my sake"; and she promised to summon the offending priests who had done their duty. { a} knox, with his usual tact, wrote to argyll thus: "your behaviour toward your wife is very offensive unto many godly." he added that, if all that was said of argyll was true, and if he did not look out, he would be damned. "this bill was not well accepted of the said earl," but, like the rest of them, he went on truckling to knox, "most familiar with the said john." { b} nearly fifty priests were tried, but no one was hanged. they were put in ward; "the like of this was never heard within the realm," said pleased protestants, not "smelling the craft." neither the queen nor her council had the slightest desire to put priests to death. six other priests "as wicked as" the archbishop were imprisoned, and the abbot of crossraguel was put to the horn in his absence, just as the preachers had been. the catholic clergy "know not where to hide their heads," says randolph. many fled to the more tender mercies of england; "it will be the common refuge of papists that cannot live here . . ." { c} the tassels on the trains of the ladies, it was declared by the preachers, "would provoke god's vengeance . . . against the whole realm . . " { a} the state of things led to a breach between knox and moray, which lasted till the earl found him likely to be useful, some eighteen months later. the reformer relieved his mind in the pulpit at the end of may or early in june, rebuking backsliders, and denouncing the queen's rumoured marriage with any infidel, "and all papists are infidels." papists and protestants were both offended. there was a scene with mary, in which she wept profusely, an infirmity of hers; we constantly hear of her weeping in public. she wished the lords of the articles to see whether knox's "manner of speaking" was not punishable, but nothing could be done. elizabeth would have found out a way. { b} the fact that while knox was conducting himself thus, nobody ventured to put a dirk or a bullet into him--despite the obvious strength of the temptation in many quarters--proves that he was by far the most potent human being in scotland. darnley, moray, lennox were all assassinated, when their day came, though the feeblest of the three, darnley, had a powerful clan to take up his feud. we cannot suppose that any moral considerations prevented the many people whom knox had offended from doing unto him as the elect did to riccio. manifestly, nobody had the courage. no clan was so strong as the warlike brethren who would have avenged the reformer, and who probably would have been backed by elizabeth. again, though he was estranged from moray, that leader was also, in some degree, estranged from lethington, who did not allow him to know the details of his intrigues, in france and england, for the queen's marriage. the marriage question was certain to reunite moray and knox. when knox told mary that, as "a subject of this realm," he had a right to oppose her marriage with any infidel, he spoke the modern constitutional truth. for mary to wed a royal catholic would certainly have meant peril for protestantism, war with england, and a tragic end. but what protestant could she marry? if a scot, he would not long have escaped the daggers of the hamiltons; indeed, all the nobles would have borne the fiercest jealousy against such an one as, say, glencairn, who, we learn, could say anything to mary without offence. she admired a strong brave man, and glencairn, though an opponent, was gallant and resolute. england chose only to offer the infamous and treacherous leicester, whose character was ruined by the mysterious death of his wife (amy robsart), and who had offered to sell england and himself to idolatrous spain. mary's only faint chance of safety lay in perpetual widowhood, or in marrying knox, by far the most powerful of her subjects, and the best able to protect her and himself. this idea does not seem to have been entertained by the subtle brain of lethington. between february and may , the cardinal of lorraine had reopened an old negotiation for wedding the queen to the archduke, and mary had given an evasive reply; she must consult parliament. in march, with the spanish ambassador in london, lethington had proposed for don carlos. philip ii., as usual, wavered, consented (in august), considered, and reconsidered. lethington, in france, had told the queen- mother that the spanish plan was only intended to wring concessions from elizabeth; and, on his return to england, had persuaded the spanish ambassador that charles ix. was anxious to succeed to his brother's widow. this moved philip to be favourable to the don carlos marriage, but he waited; there was no sign from france, and philip withdrew, wavering so much that both the austrian and spanish matches became impossible. on october , knox, who suspected more than he knew, told cecil that out of twelve privy councillors, nine would consent to a catholic marriage. the only hope was in moray, and knox "daily thirsted" for death. { a} he appealed to leicester (about whose relations with elizabeth he was, of course, informed) as to a man who "may greatly advance the purity of religion." { b} these letters to cecil and leicester are deeply pious in tone, and reveal a cruel anxiety. on june , three weeks after knox's famous sermon, lethington told de quadra, the spanish ambassador, that elizabeth threatened to be mary's enemy if she married don carlos or any of the house of austria. { c} on august , , randolph received instructions from elizabeth, in which the tone of menace was unconcealed. elizabeth would offer an english noble: "we and our country cannot think any mighty prince a meet husband for her." { d} knox was now engaged in a contest wherein he was triumphant; an affair which, in later years, was to have sequels of high importance. during the summer vacation of , while mary was moving about the country, catholics in edinburgh habitually attended at mass in her chapel. this was contrary to the arrangement which permitted no mass in the whole realm, except that of the queen, when her priests were not terrorised. the godly brawled in the chapel royal, and two of them were arrested, two very dear brethren, named cranstoun and armstrong; they were to be tried on october . knox had a kind of dictator's commission from the congregation, "to see that the kirk took no harm," and to the congregation he appealed by letter. the accused brethren had only "noted what persons repaired to the mass," but they were charged with divers crimes, especially invading her majesty's palace. knox therefore convoked the congregation to meet in edinburgh on the day of trial, in the good old way of overawing justice. { a} of course we do not know to what lengths the dear brethren went in their pious indignation. the legal record mentions that they were armed with pistols, in the town and court suburb; and it was no very unusual thing, later, for people to practise pistol shooting at each other even in their own kirk of st. giles's. { b} still, pistols, if worn in the palace chapel have not a pacific air. the brethren are also charged with assaulting some of the queen's domestic servants. { c} archbishop spottiswoode, son of one of the knoxian superintendents, says that the brethren "forced the gates, and that some of the worshippers were taken and carried to prison. . . . " { d} knox admits in his "history" that "some of the brethren _burst in_" to the chapel. in his letter to stir up the godly, he says that the brethren "passed" (in), "and that _in most quiet manner_." on receiving knox's summons the congregation prepared its levies in every town and province. { a} the privy council received a copy of knox's circular, and concluded that it "imported treason." to ourselves it does seem that for a preacher to call levies out of every town and province, to meet in the capital on a day when a trial was to be held, is a thing that no government can tolerate. the administration of justice is impossible in the circumstances. but it was the usual course in scotland, and any member of the privy council might, at any time, find it desirable to call a similar convocation of his allies. mary herself, fretted by the perfidies of elizabeth, had just been consoled by that symbolic jewel, a diamond shaped like a rock, and by promises in which she fondly trusted when she at last sought an asylum in england, and found a prison. for two months she had often been in deep melancholy, weeping for no known cause, and she was afflicted by the "pain in her side" which ever haunted her (december - ). { b} accused by the master of maxwell of unbecoming conduct, knox said that such things had been done before, and he had the warrant "of god, speaking plainly in his word." the master (later lord herries), not taking this view of the case, was never friendly with knox again; the reformer added this comment as late as december . { c} lethington and moray, like maxwell, remonstrated vainly with our reformer. randolph (december ) reports that the lords assembled "to take order with knox and his faction, who intended by a mutinous assembly made by his letter before, to have rescued two of their brethren from course of law. . . . " { a} knox was accompanied to holyrood by a force of brethren who crowded "the inner close and all the stairs, even to the chamber door where the queen and council sat." { b} probably these "slashing communicants" had their effect on the minds of the councillors. not till after riccio's murder was mary permitted to have a strong guard. according to knox, mary laughed a horse laugh when he entered, saying, "yon man gart me greit, and grat never tear himself. i will see gif i can gar him greit." her scots, textually reported, was certainly idiomatic. knox acknowledged his letter to the congregation, and lethington suggested that he might apologise. ruthven said that knox made convocation of people daily to hear him preach; what harm was there in his letter merely calling people to convocation. this was characteristic pettifogging. knox said that he convened the people to meet on the day of trial according to the order "that the brethren has appointed . . . at the commandment of the general kirk of the realm." mary seems, strangely enough, to have thought that this was a valid reply. perhaps it was, and the kirk's action in that sense, directed against the state, finally enabled cromwell to conquer the kirk-ridden country. mary appears to have admitted the kirk's imperium in imperio, for she diverted the discussion from the momentous point really at issue--the right of the kirk to call up an armed multitude to thwart justice. she now fell on knox's employment of the word "cruelty." he instantly started on a harangue about "pestilent papists," when the queen once more introduced a personal question; he had caused her to weep, and he recounted all their interview after he attacked her marriage from the pulpit. he was allowed to go home--it might not have been safe to arrest him, and the lords, unanimously, voted that he had done no offence. they repeated their votes in the queen's presence, and thus a precedent for "mutinous convocation" by kirkmen was established, till james vi. took order in . we have no full narrative of this affair except that of knox. it is to be guessed that the nobles wished to maintain the old habit of mutinous convocation which, probably, saved the life of lethington, and helped to secure bothwell's acquittal from the guilt of darnley's murder. perhaps, too, the brethren who filled the whole inner court and overflowed up the stairs of the palace, may have had their influence. this was a notable triumph of our reformer, and of the kirk; to which, on his showing, the queen contributed, by feebly wandering from the real point at issue. she was no dialectician. knox's conduct was, of course, approved of and sanctioned by the general assembly. { } he had, in his circular, averred that cranstoun and armstrong were summoned "that a door may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude." to put it mildly, the general assembly sanctioned contempt of court. unluckily for scotland contempt of court was, and long remained, universal, the country being desperately lawless, and reeking with blood shed in public and private quarrels. when a prophet followed the secular example of summoning crowds to overawe justice, the secular sinners had warrant for thwarting the course of law. as to the brethren and the idolaters who caused these troubles, we know not what befell them. the penalty, both for the attendants at mass and for the disturbers thereof, should have been death! the dear brethren, if they attacked the queen's servants, came under the proclamation of october ; so did the catholics, for _they_ "openly made alteration and innovation of the state of religion. . . . " they ought "to be punished to the death with all rigour." three were outlawed, and their sureties "unlawed." twenty-one others were probably not hanged; the records are lost. for the same reason we know not what became of the brethren armstrong, cranstoun, and george rynd, summoned with the other malefactors for november . { } chapter xvii: knox and queen mary (continued), - during the session of the general assembly in december , knox was compelled to chronicle domestic enormities. the lord treasurer, richardson, having, like captain booth, "offended the law of dian," had to do penance before the whole congregation, and the sermon (unfortunately it is lost, probably it never was written out) was preached by knox. a french apothecary of the queen's, and his mistress, were hanged on a charge of murdering their child. { a} on january , - , randolph noted that one of the queen's maries, mary livingstone, is to marry john sempill, son of robert, third lord sempill, by an english wife. knox assures us that "it is well known that shame hastened marriage between john sempill, called 'the dancer,' and mary livingstone, surnamed 'the lusty.'" the young people appear, however, to have been in no pressing hurry, as randolph, on january , did not expect their marriage till the very end of february; they wished the earl of bedford, who was coming on a diplomatic mission, to be present. { b} mary, on march , , made them a grant of lands, since "it has pleased god to move their hearts to join together in the state of matrimony." { c} she had ever since january been making the bride presents of feminine finery. these proceedings indicating no precipitate haste, we may think that mary livingstone, like mary of guise, is only a victim of the reformer's taste for "society journalism." randolph, though an egregious gossip, says of the four maries, "they are all good," but knox writes that "the ballads of that age" did witness to the "bruit" or reputation of these maidens. as is well known the old ballad of "mary hamilton," which exists in more than a dozen very diverse variants, in some specimens confuses one of the maries, an imaginary "mary hamilton," with the french maid who was hanged at the end of . the balladist is thus responsible for a scandal against the fair sisterhood; there was no "mary hamilton," and no "mary carmichael," in their number--beaton, seton, fleming, and livingstone. an offended deity now sent frost in january , and an aurora borealis in february, knox tells us, and "the threatenings of the preachers were fearful," in face of these unusual meteorological phenomena. { } vice rose to such a pitch that men doubted if the mass really was idolatry! knox said, from the pulpit, that if the sceptics were right, _he_ was "miserably deceived." "believe me, brethren, in the bowels of christ, it is possible that you may be mistaken," cromwell was to tell the commissioners of the general assembly, on a day that still was in the womb of the future; the dawn of common sense rose in the south. on march , much to the indignation of the queen, the banns were read twice between knox and a lady of the royal blood and name, margaret stewart, daughter of lord ochiltree, a girl not above sixteen, in january , when randolph first speaks of the wooing. { } the good dr. m'crie does not mention the age of the bride! the lady was a very near kinswoman of chatelherault. she had plenty of time for reflection, and as nobody says that she was coerced into the marriage, while nicol burne attributes her passion to sorcery, we may suppose that she was in love with our reformer. she bore him several daughters, and it is to be presumed that the marriage, though in every way _bizarre_, was happy. burne says that knox wished to marry a lady fleming, akin to chatelherault, but was declined; if so, he soon consoled himself. at this time riccio--a valet de chambre of the queen in - --"began to grow great in court," becoming french secretary at the end of the year. by june , , randolph is found styling riccio "only governor" to darnley. his career might have rivalled that of the equally low-born cardinal alberoni, but for the daggers of moray's party. in the general assembly of june , moray, morton, glencairn, pitarro, lethington, and other lords of the congregation held aloof from the brethren, but met the superintendents and others to discuss the recent conduct of our reformer, who was present. he was invited, by lethington, to "moderate himself" in his references to the queen, as others might imitate him, "albeit not with the same modesty and foresight," for lethington could not help bantering knox. knox, of course, rushed to his doctrine of "idolatry" as provocative of the wrath of god--we have heard of the bad harvest, and the frost in january. it is not worth while to pursue in detail the discourses, in which knox said that the queen rebelled against god "in all the actions of her life." ahab and jezebel were again brought on the scene. it profited not lethington to say that all these old biblical "vengeances" were "singular motions of the spirit of god, and appertain nothing to our age." if knox could have understood _that_, he would not have been knox. the point was intelligible; lethington perceived it, but knox never chose to do so. he went on with his isolated texts, lethington vainly replying "the cases are nothing alike." knox came to his old stand, "the idolater must die the death," and the executioners must be "the people of god." lethington quoted many opinions against knox's, to no purpose, opinions of luther, melanchthon, bucer, musculus, and calvin, but our reformer brought out the case of "amasiath, king of judah," and "the apology of magdeburg." as to the opinion of calvin and the rest he drew a distinction. they had only spoken of the godly who were suffering under oppression, not of the godly triumphant in a commonwealth. he forgot, or did not choose to remember, a previous decision of his own, as we shall see. when the rest of the party were discussing the question, makgill, clerk register, reminded them of their previous debate in november , when { } knox, after secretly writing to calvin, had proposed to write to him for his opinion about the queen's mass, and lethington had promised to do so himself. but lethington now said that, on later reflection, as secretary of the queen, he had scrupled, without her consent, to ask a foreigner whether her subjects might prevent her from enjoying the rites of her own religion--for that was what the "controversies" between her highness and her subjects really and confessedly meant. { a} knox was now requested to consult calvin, "and the learned in other kirks, to know their judgment in that question." the question, judging from makgill's interpellation, was "whether subjects might lawfully take her mass from the queen." { b} as we know, knox had already put the question to calvin by a letter of october , , and so had the anonymous writer of november , , whom i identify with arran. knox now refused to write to "mr. calvin, and the learned of other kirks," saying (i must quote him textually, or be accused of misrepresentation), "i myself am not only fully resolved in conscience, but also i have heard the judgments in this, and all other things that i have affirmed in this realm, of the most godly and most learned that be known in europe. i come not to this realm without their resolution; and for my assurance i have the handwritings of many; and therefore if i should move the same question again, what else should i do but either show my own ignorance and forgetfulness, or else inconstancy?" { c} he therefore said that his opponents might themselves "write and complain upon him," and so learn "the plain minds" of the learned--but nobody took the trouble. knox's defence was worded with the skill of a notary. he said that he had "heard the judgments" of "the learned and godly"; he did not say what these judgments were. calvin, morel, bullinger, and such men, we know, entirely differed from his extreme ideas. he "came not without their resolution," or approval, to scotland, but that was not the question at issue. if knox had received from calvin favourable replies to his own letter, and arran's, of october , november , , can any one doubt that he would now have produced them, unless he did not wish the brethren to find out that he himself had written without their knowledge? we know what manner of answers he received, in , orally from calvin, in writing from bullinger, to his questions about resistance to the civil power. { a} i am sceptical enough to suppose that, if knox had now possessed letters from calvin, justifying the propositions which he was maintaining, such as that "the people, yea, _or ane pairt of the people_, may execute god's jugementis against their king, being ane offender," { b} he would have exhibited them. i do not believe that he had any such letters from such men as bullinger and calvin. indeed, we may ask whether the question of the queen's mass had arisen in any realm of europe except scotland. where was there a catholic prince ruling over a calvinistic state? if nowhere, then the question would not be raised, except by knox in his letter to calvin of october , . and where was calvin's answer, and to what effect? knox may have forgotten, and lethington did not know, that, about - , in a tract, already noticed (pp. - supra), of pages against the anabaptists, knox had expressed the reverse of his present opinion about religious regicide. he is addressing the persecuting catholic princes of europe: " . . . ye shall perish, both temporally and for ever. and by whom doth it most appear that temporally ye shall be punished? by _us_, whom ye banish, whom ye spoil and rob, whom cruelly ye persecute, and whose blood ye daily shed? { a} there is no doubt, but as the victory which overcometh the world is our faith, so it behoveth us to possess our souls in our patience. we neither privily nor openly deny the power of the civil magistrate. . . . " the chosen saints and people of god, even when under oppression, lift not the hand, but possess their souls in patience, says knox, in - . but the idolatrous shall be temporally punished--by other hands. "and what instruments can god find in this life more apt to punish you than those" (the anabaptists), "that hate and detest all lawful powers? . . . god will not use his saints and chosen people to punish you. _for with them there is always mercy_, yea, even although god have pronounced a curse and malediction, as in the history of joshua is plain." { b} in this passage knox is speaking for the english exiles in geneva. he asserts that we "neither publicly nor privately deny the power of the civil magistrate," in face of his own published tracts of appeal to a jehu or a phinehas, and of his own claim that the prophet may preach treason, and that his instruments may commit treason. to be sure all the english in geneva were not necessarily of knox's mind. it is altogether a curious passage. god's people are more merciful than god! israel was bidden to exterminate all idolaters in the promised land, but, as the book of joshua shows, they did not always do it: "for with them is always mercy"; despite the massacres, such as that of agag, which knox was wont to cite as examples to the backward brethren! yet, relying on another set of texts, not in joshua, knox now informed lethington that the executors of death on idolatrous princes were "the people of god"--"the people, or a part of the people." { a} mercy! happily the policy of carnal men never allowed knox's "people of god" to show whether, given a chance to destroy idolaters, they would display the mercy on which he insists in his reply to the anabaptist. it was always useless to argue with knox; for whatever opinion happened to suit him at the moment (and at different moments contradictory opinions happened to suit him), he had ever a bible text to back him. on this occasion, if lethington had been able to quote knox's own statement, that with the people of god "there is always mercy" (as in the case of cardinal beaton), he could hardly have escaped by saying that there was always mercy, _when the people of god had not the upper hand in the state_, { b} when unto them god has _not_ "given sufficient force." for in the chosen people of god "there is _always_ mercy, yea even although god have pronounced a curse and malediction." in writing against anabaptists ( - ), knox wanted to make _them_, not merciful calvinists, the objects of the fear and revenge of catholic rulers. he even hazarded one of his unfulfilled prophecies: anabaptists, wicked men, will execute those divine judgments for which protestants of his species are too tender-hearted; though, somehow, they make exceptions in the cases of beaton and riccio, and ought to do so in the case of mary stuart! lethington did not use this passage of our reformer's works against him, though it was published in . probably the secretary had not worked his way through the long essay on predestination. but we have, in the book against the anabaptists and in the controversy with lethington, an example of knox's fatal intellectual faults. as an individual man, he would not have hurt a fly. as a prophet, he deliberately tried to restore, by a pestilent anachronism, in a christian age and country, the ferocities attributed to ancient israel. this he did not even do consistently, and when he is inconsistent with his prevailing mood, his biographers applaud his "moderation"! if he saw a chance against an anabaptist, or if he wanted to conciliate mary of guise, he took up a christian line, backing it by texts appropriate to the occasion. his influence lasted, and the massacre of dunavertie ( ), and the slaying of women in cold blood, months after the battle of philiphaugh, and the "rouping" of covenanted "ravens" for the blood of cavaliers taken under quarter, are the direct result of knox's intellectual error, of his appeals to jehu, phinehas, and so forth. at this point the fourth book of knox's "history" ends with a remark on the total estrangement between himself and moray. the reformer continued to revise and interpolate his work, up to , the year before his death, and made collections of materials, and notes for the continuation. an uncertain hand has put these together in book v. but we now miss the frequent references to "john knox," and his doings, which must have been vigorous during the troubles of , after the arrival in scotland of darnley (february ), and his courtship and marriage of the queen. these events brought together moray, chatelherault, and many of the lords in the armed party of the congregation. they rebelled; they were driven by mary into england, by october , and bothwell came at her call from france. the queen had new advisers--riccio, balfour, bothwell, the eldest son of the late huntly, and lennox, till the wretched darnley in a few weeks proved his incapacity. lethington, rather neglected, hung about the court, as he remained with mary of guise long after he had intended to desert her. mary, whose only chance lay in outstaying elizabeth in the policy of celibacy, had been driven, or led, by her rival queen into a marriage which would have been the best possible, had darnley been a man of character and a protestant. he was the typical "young fool," indolent, incapable, fierce, cowardly, and profligate. his religion was dubious. after his arrival (on february , ) he went with moray to hear knox preach, but he had been bred by a catholic mother, and, on occasion, posed as an ardent catholic. { } it is unfortunate that randolph is silent about knox during all the period of the broils which preceded and followed mary's marriage. on august , , darnley, now mary's husband, went to hear knox preach in st. giles's, on the text, "o lord our god, other lords than thou have ruled over us." "god," he said, "sets in that room (for the offences and ingratitude of the people) boys and women." ahab also appeared, as usual. ahab "had not taken order with that harlot, jezebel." so book v. says, and "harlot" would be a hit at mary's alleged misconduct with riccio. a hint in a letter of randolph's of august , may point to nascent scandal about the pair. but the printed sermon, from knox's written copy, reads, not "harlot" but "idolatrous wife." at all events, darnley was so moved by this sermon that he would not dine. { a} knox was called "from his bed" to the council chamber, where were atholl, ruthven, lethington, the justice clerk, and the queen's advocate. he was attended by a great crowd of notable citizens, but lethington forbade him to preach for a fortnight or three weeks. he said that, "if the church would command him to preach or abstain he would obey, so far as the word of god would permit him." it seems that he would only obey even the church as far as he chose. the town council protested against the deprivation, and we do not know how long knox desisted from preaching. laing thinks that, till mary fell, he preached only "at occasional intervals." { b} but we shall see that he did presently go on preaching, with lethington for a listener. he published his sermon, without name of place or printer. the preacher informs his audience that "in the hebrew there is no conjunction copulative" in a certain sentence; probably he knew more hebrew than most of our pastors. the sermon is very long, and, wanting the voice and gesture of the preacher, is no great proof of eloquence; in fact, is tedious. probably darnley was mainly vexed by the length, though he may have had intelligence enough to see that he and mary were subjects of allusions. knox wrote the piece from memory, on the last of august, in "the terrible roaring of guns, and the noise of armour." the banded lords, moray and the rest, had entered edinburgh, looking for supporters, and finding none. erskine, commanding the castle, fired six or seven shots as a protest, and the noise of these disturbed the prophet at his task. as a marginal note says, "the castle of edinburgh was shooting against the exiled for christ jesus' sake" { a}--namely, at moray and his company. knox prayed for them in public, and was accused of so doing, but lethington testified that he had heard "the sermons," and found in them no ground of offence. { b} [mary stuart. from the portrait in the collection of the earl of morton: knox .jpg] moray, ochiltree, pitarro, and many others being now exiles in england, whose queen had subsidised and repudiated them and their revolution, things went hard with the preachers. for a whole year at least (december - ) their stipends were not paid, the treasury being exhausted by military and other expenses, and pitarro being absent. at the end of december, knox and his colleague, craig, were ordered by the general assembly to draw up and print a service for a general fast, to endure from the last sunday in february to the first in march, . one cause alleged is that the queen's conversion had been hoped for, but now she said that she would "maintain and defend" { c} her own faith. she had said no less to knox at their first interview, but now she had really written, when invited to abolish her mass, that her subjects may worship as they will, but that she will not desert her religion. { a} it was also alleged that the godly were to be destroyed all over europe, in accordance with decrees of the council of trent. moreover, vice, manslaughter, and oppression of the poor continued, prices of commodities rose, and work was scamped. the date of the fast was fixed, not to coincide with lent, but because it preceded an intended meeting of parliament, { b} a parliament interrupted by the murder of riccio, and the capture of the queen. no games were to be played during the two sundays of the fast, which looks as if they were still permitted on other sundays. the appointed lessons were from judges, esther, chronicles, isaiah, and esdras; the new testament, apparently, supplied nothing appropriate. it seldom did. the lay attendants of the assembly of christmas day which decreed the fast, were morton, mar, lindsay, lethington, with some lairds. the protestants must have been alarmed, in february , by a report, to which randolph gave circulation, that mary had joined a catholic league, with the pope, the emperor, the king of spain, the duke of savoy, and others. lethington may have believed this; at all events he saw no hope of pardon for moray and his abettors--"no certain way, unless we chop at the very root, you know where it lieth" (february ). { c} probably he means the murder of riccio, not of the queen. bedford said that mary had not yet signed the league. { d} we are aware of no proof that there was any league to sign, and though mary was begging money both from spain and the pope, she probably did not expect to procure more than tolerance for her own religion. { a} the rumours, however, must have had their effect in causing apprehension. moreover, darnley, from personal jealousy; morton, from fear of losing the seals; the douglases, kinsmen of morton and darnley; and the friends of the exiled nobles, seeing that they were likely to be forfeited, conspired with moray in england to be darnley's men, to slay riccio, and to make the queen subordinate to darnley, and "to fortify and maintain" the protestant faith. mary, indeed, had meant to reintroduce the spiritual estate into parliament, as a means of assisting her church; so she writes to archbishop beaton in paris. { b} twelve wooden altars, to be erected in st. giles's, are said by knox's continuator to have been found in holyrood. { c} mary's schemes, whatever they extended to, were broken by the murder of riccio in the evening of march . he was seized in her presence, and dirked by fifty daggers outside of her room. ruthven, who in june had come into mary's good graces, and morton were, with darnley, the leaders of the douglas feud, and of the brethren. the nobles might easily have taken, tried, and hanged riccio, but they yielded to darnley and to their own excited passions, when once they had torn him from the queen. the personal pleasure of dirking the wretch could not be resisted, and the danger of causing the queen's miscarriage and death may have entered into the plans of darnley. knox does not tell the story himself; his "history" ends in june . but "in plain terms" he "lets the world understand what we mean," namely, that riccio "was justly punished," and that "the act" (of the murderers) was "most just and most worthy of _all_ praise." { a} this knox wrote just after the event, while the murderers were still in exile in england, where ruthven died--seeing a vision of angels! knox makes no drawback to the entirely and absolutely laudable character of the deed. he goes out of his way to tell us "in plain terms what we mean," in a digression from his account of affairs sixteen years earlier. thus one fails to understand the remark, that "of the manner in which the deed was done we may be certain that knox would disapprove as vehemently as any of his contemporaries." { b} the words may be ironical, for vehement disapproval was not conspicuous among protestant contemporaries. knox himself, after mary scattered the party of the murderers and recovered power, prayed that heaven would "put it into the heart of a multitude" to treat mary like athaliah. mary made her escape from holyrood to dunbar, to safety, in the night of march . march found knox on his knees; the game was up, the blood had been shed in vain. the queen had not died, but was well, and surrounded by friends; and the country was rather for her than against her. the reformer composed a prayer, repenting that "in quiet i am negligent, in trouble impatient, tending to desperation," which shows insight. he speaks of his pride and ambition, also of his covetousness and malice. that he was really covetous we cannot believe, nor does he show malice except against idolaters. he "does not doubt himself to be elected to eternal salvation," of which he has "assured signs." he has "knowledge above the common sort of my brethren" (pride has crept in again!), and has been compelled to "forespeak," or prophesy. he implores mercy for his "desolate bedfellow," for her children, and for his sons by his first wife. "now, lord, put end to my misery!" (edinburgh, march , ). knox fled from edinburgh, "with a great mourning of the godly of religion," says a diarist, on the same day as the chief murderers took flight, march ; his place of refuge was kyle in ayrshire (march , ). { a} in randolph's letter, recording the flight of these nobles, he mentions eight of their accomplices, and another list is pinned to the letter, giving names of men "all at the death of davy and privy thereunto." this applies to about a dozen men, being a marginal note opposite their names. a line lower is added, "john knox, john craig, preachers." { b} there is no other evidence that knox, who fled, or craig, who stood to his pulpit, were made privy to the plot. when idolaters thought it best not to let the pope into a scheme for slaying elizabeth, it is hardly probable that protestants would apprise their leading preachers. on the other hand, calvin was consulted by the would-be assassins of the duc de guise, in - , and he prevented the deed, as he assures the duchesse de ferrare, the mother-in-law of the duc, after that noble was murdered in good earnest. { c} calvin, we have shown, knew beforehand of the conspiracy of amboise, which aimed at the death of "antonius," obviously guise. he disapproved of but did not reveal the plot. knox, whether privy to the murder or not, did not, when he ran away, take the best means of disarming suspicion. neither his name nor that of craig occurs in two lists containing those of between seventy and eighty persons "delated," and it is to be presumed that he fled because he did not feel sure of protection against mary's frequently expressed dislike. in earlier days, with a strong backing, he had not feared "the pleasing face of a gentlewoman," as he said, but now he did fear it. kyle suited him well, because the earl of cassilis, who had been an idolater, was converted by a faithful bride, in august. dr. m'crie { a} says that mary "wrote to a nobleman in the west country with whom knox resided, to banish him from his house." the evidence for this is a letter of parkhurst to bullinger, in december . parkhurst tells bullinger, among other novelties, that riccio was a necromancer, who happened to be dirked; by whom he does not say. he adds that mary commanded "a certain pious earl" not to keep knox in his house. { b} in kyle knox worked at his "history." on september he signed a letter sent from the general assembly at st. andrews to beza, approving of a swiss confession of faith, except so far as the keeping of christmas, easter, and other christian festivals is concerned. knox himself wrote to beza, about this time, an account of the condition of scotland. it would be invaluable, as the career of mary was rushing to the falls, but it is lost. { c} on december , mary pardoned all the murderers of riccio; and knox appears to have been present, though it is not certain, at the christmas general assembly in edinburgh. he received permission to visit his sons in england, and he wrote two letters: one to the protestant nobles on mary's attempt to revive the consistorial jurisdiction of the primate; the other to the brethren. to england he carried a remonstrance from the kirk against the treatment of puritans who had conscientious objections to the apparel--"romish rags"--of the church anglican. men ought to oppose themselves boldly to authority; that is, to queen elizabeth, if urged further than their consciences can bear. { a} being in england, knox, of course, did not witness the events associated with the catholic baptism of the baby prince (james vi.); the murder of darnley, in february ; the abduction of mary by bothwell, and her disgraceful marriage to her husband's murderer, in may . if knox excommunicated the queen, it was probably about this date. long afterwards, on april , , mary was discussing the various churches with waad, an envoy of cecil. waad said that the pope stirred up peoples not to obey their sovereigns. "yet," said the queen, "a pope shall excommunicate _you_, but _i_ was excommunicated by a pore minister, knokes. in fayth i feare nothinge else but that they will use my sonne as they have done the mother." { b} chapter xviii: the last years of knox: - the royal quarry, so long in the toils of fate, was dragged down at last, and the doom forespoken by the prophet was fulfilled. a multitude had their opportunity with this fair athaliah; and mary had ridden from carberry hill, a draggled prisoner, into her own town, among the yells of "burn the harlot." but one out of all her friends was faithful to her. mary seton, to her immortal honour, rode close by the side of her fallen mistress and friend. for six years insulted and thwarted; her smiles and her tears alike wasted on greedy, faithless courtiers and iron fanatics; perplexed and driven desperate by the wiles of cecil and elizabeth; in bodily pain and constant sorrow--the sorrow wrought by the miscreant whom she had married; without one honest friend; mary had wildly turned to the man who, it is to be supposed, she thought could protect her, and her passion had dragged her into unplumbed deeps of crime and shame. the fall of mary, the triumph of protestantism, appear to have, in some degree, rather diminished the prominence of knox. he would never make mary weep again. he had lost the protagonist against whom, for a while, he had stood almost alone, and soon we find him complaining of neglect. he appeared at the general assembly of june , --a scanty gathering. george buchanan, a layman, was moderator: the assembly was adjourned to july , and the brethren met in arms; wherefore argyll, who had signed the band for darnley's murder, declined to come. { a} the few nobles, the barons, and others present, vowed to punish the murder of darnley and to defend the child prince; and it was decided that henceforth all scottish princes should swear to "set forward the true religion of jesus christ, as at present professed and established in this realm"--as they are bound to do--"by deuteronomy and the second chapter of the book of kings," which, in fact, do not speak of establishing calvinism. among those who sign are morton, who had guilty foreknowledge of the murder; while his kinsman, archibald douglas, was present at the doing; sir james balfour, who was equally involved; lethington, who signed the murder covenant; and douglas of whittingham, and ker of faldonside, two of riccio's assassins. most of the nobles stood aloof. presently throckmorton arrived, sent by elizabeth with the pretence, at least, of desiring to save mary's life, which, but for his exertions, he thought would have been taken. he "feared knox's austerity as much as any man's" (july ). { b} on july knox arrived from the west, where he had been trying to unite the protestants. { c} throckmorton found craig and knox "very austere," well provided with arguments from the bible, history, the laws of scotland, and the coronation oath. { a} knox in his sermons "threatened the great plague of god to this whole nation and country if the queen be spared from her condign punishment." { b} murderers were in the habit of being lightly let off, in scotland, and, as to mary, she could easily have been burned for husband-murder, but not so easily convicted thereof with any show of justice. the only direct evidence of her complicity lay in the casket letters, and several of her lordly accusers were (if she were guilty) her accomplices. her prayer to be heard in self-defence at the ensuing parliament of december was refused, for excellent reasons; and her opponents had the same good reasons for not bringing her to trial. knox was perfectly justified if he desired her to be tried, but several lay members of the general assembly could not have faced that ordeal, and randolph later accused lethington, in a letter to him, of advising her assassination. { c} on july knox preached at the coronation of james vi. at stirling, protesting against the rite of anointing. true, it was jewish, but it had passed through the impure hands of rome, as, by the way, had baptism. knox also preached at the opening of parliament, on december . we know little of him at this time. he had sent his sons to cambridge, into danger of acquiring anglican opinions, which they did; but now he seems to have taken a less truculent view of anglicanism than in - . he had been drawing a prophetic historical parallel between chatelherault (more or less of the queen's party) and judas iscariot, and was not loved by the hamiltons. the duke was returning from france, "to restore satan to his kingdom," with the assistance of the guises. knox mentions an attempt to assassinate moray, now regent, which is obscure. "i live as a man already dead from all civil things." thus he wrote to wood, moray's agent, then in england on the affair of the casket letters (september , ). he had already (february ) declined to gratify wood by publishing his "history." he would not permit it to appear during his life, as "it will rather hurt me than profit them" (his readers). he was, very naturally, grieved that the conduct of men was not conformable to "the truth of god, now of some years manifest." he was not concerned to revenge his own injuries "by word or writ," and he foresaw schism in england over questions of dress and rites. { a} he was neglected. "have not thine oldest and stoutest acquaintance" (moray, or kirkcaldy of grange?) "buried thee in present oblivion, and art thou not in that estate, by age, { b} that nature itself calleth thee from the pleasure of things temporal?" (august , ). "_in trouble impatient, tending to desperation_," knox had said of himself. he was still unhappy. "foolish scotland" had "disobeyed god by sparing the queen's life," and now the proposed norfolk marriage of mary and her intended restoration were needlessly dreaded. a month later, lethington, thrown back on mary by his own peril for his share in darnley's murder, writes to the queen that some ministers are reconcilable, "but nox i think be inflexible." { a} a year before knox wrote his melancholy letter, just cited, he had some curious dealings with the english puritans. in many of them had been ejected from their livings, and, like the scottish catholics, they "assembled in woods and private houses to worship god." { b} the edifying controversies between these precisians and grindal, the bishop of london, are recorded by strype. the bishop was no zealot for surplices and the other momentous trifles which agitate the human conscience, but elizabeth insisted on them; and "her majesty's government must be carried on." the precisians had deserted the english liturgy for the genevan book of common order; both sides were appealing to beza, in geneva, and were wrangling about the interpretation of that pontiff's words. { c} calvin had died in , but the genevan church and beza were still umpires, whose decision was eagerly sought, quibbled over, and disputed. the french puritans, in fact, extremely detested the anglican book of common prayer. thus, in , de la vigne, a preacher at st. lo, consulted calvin about the excesses of certain flemish brethren, who adhered to "a certain bobulary (bobulaire) of prayers, compiled, or brewed, in the days of edward vi." the calvinists of st. lo decided that these flemings must not approach their holy table, and called our communion service "a disguised mass." the synod (calvinistic) of poictiers decided that our liturgy contains "impieties," and that satan was the real author of the work! there are saints' days, "with epistles, lessons, or gospels, as under the papacy." they have heard that the prayer book has been condemned by geneva. { a} the english sufferers from our satanic prayer book appealed to geneva, and were answered by beza (october , ). he observed, "who are we to give any judgment of these things, which, as it seems to us, can be healed only by prayers and patience." geneva has not heard both sides, and does not pretend to judge. the english brethren complain that ministers are appointed "without any lawful consent of the presbytery," the english church not being presbyterian, and not intending to be. beza hopes that it will become presbyterian. he most dreads that any should "execute their ministry contrary to the will of her majesty and the bishops," which is exactly what the seceders did. beza then speaks out about the question of costume, which ought not to be forced on the ministers. but he does not think that the vestments justify schism. in other points the brethren should, in the long run, "give way to manifest violence," and "live as private men." "other defilements" (kneeling, &c.) beza hopes that the queen and bishops will remove. men must "patiently bear with one another, and heartily obey the queen's majesty and all their bishops." { b} as far as this epistle goes, beza and his colleagues certainly do not advise the puritan seceders to secede. bullinger and gualterus in particular were outworn by the pertinacious english puritans who visited them. one sampson had, when in exile, made the life of peter martyr a burden to him by his "clamours," doubts, and restless dissatisfaction. "england," wrote bullinger to beza (march , ), "has many characters of this sort, who cannot be at rest, who can never be satisfied, and who have always something or other to complain about." bullinger and gualterus "were unwilling to contend with these men like fencing-masters," tired of their argufying; unable to "withdraw our entire confidence from the bishops." "if any others think of coming hither, let them know that they will come to no purpose." { a} knox may have been less unsympathetic, but his advice agreed with the advice of the genevans. some of the seceders were imprisoned; cecil and the queen's commissioners encouraged others "to go and preach the gospel in scotland," sending with them, as it seems, letters commendatory to the ruling men there. they went, but they were not long away. "they liked not that northern climate, but in may returned again," and fell to their old practices. one of them reported that, at dunbar, "he saw men going to the church, on good friday, barefooted and bare-kneed, and creeping to the cross!" "if this be so," said grindal, "the church of scotland will not be pure enough for our men." { b} these english brethren, when in scotland, consulted knox on the dispute which they made a ground of schism. one brother, who was uncertain in his mind, visited knox in scotland at this time. the result appears in a letter to knox from a seceder, written just after queen mary escaped from lochleven in may . the dubiously seceding brother "told the bishop" (grindal) "that you are flat against and condemn all our doings . . . whereupon the church" (the seceders) "did excommunicate him"! he had reviled "the church," and they at once caught "the excommunicatory fever." meanwhile the earnestly seceding brother thought that he had won knox to _his_ side. but a letter from our reformer proved his error, and the letter, as the brother writes, "is not in all points liked." they would not "go back again to the wafer-cake and kneelings" (the knoxian black rubric had been deleted from elizabeth's prayer book), "and to other knackles of popery." in fact they obeyed knox's epistle to england of january . "mingle- mangle ministry, popish order, and popish apparel," they will not bear. knox's arguments in favour of their conforming, for the time at all events, are quoted and refuted: "and also concerning paul his purifying at jerusalem." the analogy of paul's conformity had been rejected by knox, at the supper party with lethington in . he had "doubted whether either james's commandment or paul's obedience proceeded from the holy ghost." { a} yet now knox had used the very same argument from paul's conformity which, in , he had scouted! the mass was not in question in ; still, if paul was wrong (and he did get into peril from a mob!), how could knox now bid the english brethren follow his example? { b} (see pp. - supra.) to be sure mary was probably at large, when knox wrote, with spears at her back. the reformer may have rightly thought it an ill moment to irritate elizabeth, or he may have grown milder than he was in , and come into harmony with bullinger. in february of the year of this correspondence he had written, "god comfort that dispersed little flock," apparently the puritans of his old genevan congregation, now in england, and in trouble, "amongst whom i would be content to end my days. . . . " { a} in january , knox, "with his one foot in the grave," as he says, did not despair of seeing his desire upon his enemy. moray was asking elizabeth to hand over to him queen mary, giving hostages for the safety of her life. moray sent his messenger to cecil, on january , , and knox added a brief note. "if ye strike not at the root," he said, "the branches that appear to be broken will bud again. . . . more days than one would not suffice to express what i think." { b} what he thought is obvious; "stone dead hath no fellow." but mary's day of doom had not yet come; moray was not to receive her as a prisoner, for the regent was shot dead, in linlithgow, on january , by hamilton of bothwellhaugh, to the unconcealed delight of his sister, for whom his death was opportune. the assassin, bothwellhaugh, in may , had been pardoned for his partisanship of mary, at knox's intercession. "thy image, o lord, did so clearly shine on that personage" (moray)--he said in his public prayer at the regent's funeral { c}--"that the devil, and the people to whom he is prince, could not abide it." we know too much of moray to acquiesce, without reserve, in this eulogium. knox was sorely disturbed, at this time, by the publication of a jeu d'esprit, in which the author professed to have been hidden in a bed, in the cabinet of a room, while the late regent held a council of his friends. { a} the tone and manner of lindsay, wood, knox and others were admirably imitated; in their various ways, and with appropriate arguments, some of them urged moray to take the crown for his life. by no people but the scots, perhaps, could this jape have been taken seriously, but, with a gravity that would have delighted charles lamb, knox denounced the skit from the pulpit as a fabrication by the father of lies. the author, the human penman, he said (according to calderwood), was fated to die friendless in a strange land. the galling shaft came out of the lethington quiver; it may have been composed by several of the family, but thomas maitland, who later died in italy, was regarded as the author, { b} perhaps because he did die alone in a strange country. at this time the castle of edinburgh was held in the queen's interest by kirkcaldy of grange, who seems to have been won over by the guile of lethington. that politician needed a shelter from the danger of the lennox feud, and the charge of having been guilty of darnley's murder. to take the place was beyond the power of the protestant party, and it did not fall under the guns of their english allies during the life of the reformer. he had a tedious quarrel with kirkcaldy in december -january . a retainer of kirkcaldy's had helped to kill a man whom his master only wanted to be beaten. the retainer was put into the tolbooth; kirkcaldy set him free, and knox preached against kirkcaldy. hearing that knox had styled him a murderer, kirkcaldy bade craig read from the pulpit a note in which he denied the charge. he prayed god to decide whether he or knox "has been most desirous of innocent blood." craig would not read the note: kirkcaldy appealed in a letter to the kirk-session. he explained the origin of the trouble: the slain man had beaten his brother; he bade his agents beat the insulter, who drew his sword, and got a stab. on this knox preached against him, he was told, as a cut- throat. next sunday knox reminded his hearers that he had not called kirkcaldy a murderer (though in the case of the cardinal, he was), but had said that the lawless proceedings shocked him more than if they had been done by common cut-throats. knox then wrote a letter to the kirk-session, saying that kirkcaldy's defence proved him "to be a murderer at heart," for st. john says that "whoso loveth not his brother is a man-slayer"; and kirkcaldy did not love the man who was killed. all this was apart from the question: had knox called kirkcaldy a common cut-throat? kirkcaldy then asked that knox's explanation of what he said in the pulpit might be given in writing, as his words had been misreported, and knox, "creeping upon his club," went personally to the kirk-session, and requested the superintendent to admonish kirkcaldy of his offences. next sunday he preached about his eternal ahab, and kirkcaldy was offended by the historical parallel. when he next was in church knox went at him again; it was believed that kirkcaldy would avenge himself, but the western brethren wrote to remind him of their "great care" for knox's person. so the quarrel, which made sermons lively, died out. { } there was little goodwill to knox in the queen's party, and as the conflict was plainly to be decided by the sword, robert melville, from the castle, advised that the prophet should leave the town, in may . the "castilian" chiefs wished him no harm, they would even shelter him in their hold, but they could not be responsible for his "safety from the multitude and rascal," in the town, for the craftsmen preferred the party of kirkcaldy. knox had a curious interview in the castle with lethington, now stricken by a mortal malady. the two old foes met courteously, and parted even in merriment; lethington did not mock, and knox did not threaten. they were never again to see each other's faces, though the dying knox was still to threaten, and the dying lethington was still to mock. july found knox and his family at st. andrews, in the new hospice, a pre- reformation ecclesiastical building, west of the cathedral, and adjoining the gardens of st. leonard's college. at this time james melville, brother of the more celebrated scholar and divine, andrew melville, was a golf-playing young student of st. leonard's college. he tells us how knox would walk about the college gardens, exhorting the st. leonard's lads to be staunch protestants; for st. salvator's and st. mary's were not devoted to the reformer and his party. the smitten preacher (he had suffered a touch of apoplexy) walked slowly, a fur tippet round his neck in summer, leaning on his staff, and on the shoulder of his secretary, bannatyne. he returned, at st. andrews, in his sermons, to the book of daniel with which, nearly a quarter of a century ago, he began his pulpit career. in preaching he was moderate--for half-an-hour; and then, warming to his work, he made young melville shudder and tremble, till he could not hold his pen to write. no doubt the prophet was denouncing "that last beast," the pope, and his allies in scotland, as he had done these many years ago. ere he had finished his sermon "he was like to ding the pulpit to blads and fly out of it." he attended a play, written by davidson, later a famous preacher, on the siege and fall of the castle, exhibiting the hanging of his old ally, kirkcaldy, "according to mr. knox's doctrine," says melville. this cheerful entertainment was presented at the marriage of john colville, destined to be a traitor, a double spy, and a renegade from the kirk to "the synagogue of satan." { a} knox now collected historical materials from alexander hay, clerk of the privy council, and heard of the publication of buchanan's scurrilous "detection" of queen mary, in december . { b} knox had denounced the hamiltons as murderers, so one of that name accused our reformer of having signed a band for the murder of darnley--not the murder at kirk o' field, but a sketch for an attempt at perth! he had an interview with knox, not of the most satisfactory, and there was a quarrel with another hamilton, who later became a catholic and published scurrilous falsehoods about knox, in latin. in fact our reformer had quarrels enough on his hands at st. andrews, and to one adversary he writes about what he would do, if he had his old strength of body. not in the regency, but mainly under the influence of morton, bishops were reintroduced, at a meeting of the kirk held at leith, in january . the idea was that each bishop should hand over most of his revenues to morton, or some other person in power. knox, of course, objected; he preached at st. andrews before morton inducted a primate of his clan, but he refused to "inaugurate" the new prelate. the superintendent of fife did what was to be done, and a bishop (he of caithness) was among the men who imposed their hands on the head of the new archbishop of st. andrews. thus the imposition of hands, which knox had abolished in the book of discipline, crept back again, and remains in presbyterian usage. { a} had knox been in vigour he might have summoned the brethren in arms to resist; but he was weak of body, and morton was an ill man to deal with. knox did draw up articles intended to minimise the mischief of these bastard and simoniacal bishoprics and abused patronages (august ). { b} on may , , he describes himself as "lying in st. andrews, half dead." { c} he was able, however, to preach at a witch, who was probably none the better for his distinguished attentions. on august , during a truce between the hostile parties, knox left st. andrews for edinburgh, "not without dolour and displeasure of the few godly that were in the town, but to the great joy and pleasure of the rest;" for, "half dead" as he was, knox had preached a political sermon every sunday, and he was in the pulpit at st. giles's on the last sunday of august. { a} as his colleague, craig, had disgusted the brethren by his moderation and pacific temper, a minister named lawson was appointed as knox's coadjutor. late in august came the news of the st. bartholomew massacre (august ). knox rose to the occasion, and, preaching in the presence of du croc, the french ambassador, bade him tell his king that he was a murderer, and that god's vengeance should never depart from him or his house. { b} the prophecy was amply fulfilled. du croc remonstrated, "but the lords answered they could not stop the mouths of ministers to speak against themselves." there was a convention of protestants in edinburgh on october , but lords did not attend, and few lairds were present. the preachers and other brethren in the assembly proposed that all catholics in the realm should be compelled to recant publicly, to lose their whole property and be banished if they were recalcitrant, and, if they remained in the country, that all subjects should be permitted, lawfully, to put them to death. ("to invade them, and every one of them, to the death.") { c} this was the ideal, embodied in law, of the brethren in . happily they were not permitted to disgrace scotland by a bartholomew massacre of her own. mr. hume brown thinks that these detestable proposals "if not actually penned by knox, must have been directly inspired by him." he does not, however, mention the demand for massacre, except as "pains and penalties for those who _preached_ the old religion." { d} "without exception of persons, great or small," _all_ were to be obliged to recant, or to be ruined and exiled, or to be massacred. dr. m'crie does not hint at the existence of these articles, "to be given to the regent and council." they included a very proper demand for the reformation of vice at home. certainly knox did not pen or dictate the articles, for none of his favourite adjectives occurs in the document. at this time elizabeth, leicester, and cecil desired to hand over queen mary to mar, the regent, "to proceed with her by way of justice," a performance not to be deferred, "either for parliament or a great session." very petty sessions indeed, if any, were to suffice for the trial of the queen. { } there are to be no "temporising solemnities," all are to be "stout and resolute _in execution_," leicester thus writes to an unknown correspondent on october . killigrew, who was to arrange the business with mar, was in scotland by september . on october , killigrew writes that knox is very feeble but still preaching, and that he says, if he is not a bishop, it is by no fault of cecil's. "i trust to satisfy morton," says killigrew, "and as for john knox, that thing, as you may see by my letter to mr. secretary, is done and doing daily; the people in general well bent to england, abhorring the fact in france, and fearing their tyranny." "that thing" is _not_ the plan for murdering mary without trial; if killigrew meant that he had obtained knox's assent to _that_, he would not write "that thing is doing daily." even morton, more scrupulous than elizabeth and cecil, said that "there must be some kind of process" (trial, proces), attended secretly by the nobles and the ministers. the trial would be in mary's absence, or would be brief indeed, for the prisoner was not to live three hours after crossing the border! others, unnamed, insisted on a trial; the queen had never been found guilty. killigrew speaks of "two ministers" as eager for the action, but nothing proves that knox was one of them. while morton and mar were haggling for the price of mary's blood, mar died, on october , and the whole plot fell through. { } anxious as knox had declared himself to be to "strike at the root," he could not, surely, be less scrupulous about a trial than morton, though the decision of the court was foredoomed. sandys, the bishop of london, advised that mary's head should be chopped off! on november , , knox inducted mr. lawson into his place as minister at st. giles's. on the th he could not read the bible aloud, he paid his servants, and gave his man a present, the last, in addition to his wages. on the th two friends came to see knox at noon, dinner time. he made an effort, and for the last time sat at meat with them, ordering a fresh hogshead of wine to be drawn. "he willed archibald stewart to send for the wine so long as it lasted, for he would never tarry until it were drunken." on the th the kirk came to him, by his desire; and he protested that he had never hated any man personally, but only their errors, nor had he made merchandise of the word. he sent a message to kirkcaldy bidding him repent, or the threatenings should fall on him and the castle. his exertions increased his illness. there had been a final quarrel with the dying lethington, who complained that knox, in sermons and otherwise, charged him with saying there is "neither heaven nor hell," an atheistic position of which (see his eloquent prayer before corrichie fight, wherein huntly died { a}) he was incapable. on the th he told "the kirk" that lethington's conduct proved that he really did disbelieve in god, and a future of rewards and punishments. that was not the question. the question was--did knox, publicly and privately, as lethington complained, attribute to him words which he denied having spoken, asking that the witnesses should be produced. we wish that knox had either produced good evidences, or explained why he could not produce them, or had apologised, or had denied that he spoke in the terms reported to lethington. james melville says that the rev. mr. lindsay, of leith, told him that knox bade him carry a message to kirkcaldy in the castle. after compliments, it ran: "he shall be disgracefully dragged from his nest to punishment, and hung on a gallows before the face of the sun, unless he speedily amend his life, and flee to the mercy of god." knox added: "that man's soul is dear to me, and i would not have it perish, if i could save it." kirkcaldy consulted maitland, and returned with a reply which contained lethington's last scoff at the prophet. however, morton, when he had the chance, did hang kirkcaldy, as in the play acted before knox at st. andrews, "according to mr. knox's doctrine." "the preachers clamoured for blood to cleanse blood." { b} as to a secret conference with morton on the th, the earl, before his execution, confessed that the dying man asked him, "if he knew anything of the king's (darnley's) murder?" "i answered, indeed, i knew nothing of it"--perhaps a pardonable falsehood in the circumstances. morton said that the people who had suffered from kirkcaldy and the preachers daily demanded the soldier's death. other sayings of the reformer are reported. he repressed a lady who, he thought, wished to flatter him: "lady, lady, the black ox has never trodden yet upon your foot!" "i have been in heaven and have possession, and i have tasted of these heavenly joys where presently i am," he said, after long meditation, beholding, as in bunyan's allegory, the hills of beulah. he said the creed, which soon vanished from scottish services; and in saying "our father," broke off to murmur, "who can pronounce so holy words?" on november he rose and dressed, but soon returned to bed. his wife read to him the text, "where i cast my first anchor," st. john's gospel, chapter xvii. about half-past ten he said, "now it is come!" and being asked for a sign of his steadfast faith, he lifted up one hand, "and so slept away without any pain." { } knox was buried on november in the churchyard south of st. giles. a flat stone, inscribed j. k., beside the equestrian statue of charles ii., is reported to mark his earthly resting-place. he died as he had lived, a poor man; a little money was owed to him; all his debts were paid. his widow, two years later, married andrew ker of faldonside, so notorious for levelling a pistol at the queen on the occasion of riccio's murder. ker appears to have been intimate with the reformer. bannatyne speaks of a story of lady atholl's witchcraft, told by a mr. lundie to knox, at dinner, "at falsyde." this was a way of spelling faldonside, { } the name of ker's place, hard by the tweed, within a mile of abbotsford. probably ker and his wife sleep in the family burying-ground, the disused kirkyard of lindean, near a little burn that murmurs under the broad burdock leaves on its way to join the ettrick. appendix a: alleged perfidy of mary of guise the regent has usually been accused of precipitating, or causing the revolution of , by breaking a pledge given to the protestants assembled at perth (may - , ). knox's "history" and a letter of his are the sources of this charge, and it is difficult to determine the amount of truth which it may contain. our earliest evidence on the matter is found in a letter to the english privy council, from sir james croft, commanding at berwick. the letter, of may , is eight days later than the riots at perth. it is not always accurately informed; croft corrects one or two statements in later despatches, but the points corrected are not those with which we are here concerned. { a} neither in this nor in other english advices do i note any charge of ill faith brought against the regent on this occasion. croft says that, on knox's arrival, many nobles and a multitude of others repaired to dundee to hear him and others preach. the regent then summoned these preachers before her to stirling, { b} but as they had a "train" of or , she "dismissed the appearance," putting the preachers to the horn, and commanding the nobility to appear before her in edinburgh. the "companies" then retired and wrecked monasteries at perth. the lords and they had _previously_ sent erskine of dun to the regent, offering to appear before her with only their household servants, to hear the preachers dispute with the clergy, if she would permit. the regent, "taking displeasure with" erskine of dun, bade him begone out of her sight. he rode off (to perth), and she had him put to the horn (as a fact, he was only fined in his recognisances as bail for one of the preachers). the riots followed his arrival in perth. such is our earliest account; there is no mention of a promise broken by the regent. knox himself wrote two separate and not always reconcilable accounts of the first revolutionary explosion; one in a letter of june to mrs. locke, the other in a part of book ii. of his "history," composed at some date before october , . that portion of his "history" is an apologia for the proceedings of his party, and was apparently intended for contemporary publication. { a} this part of the "history," therefore, as the work of an advocate, needs to be checked, when possible, by other authorities. we first examine knox's letter of june , , to mrs. locke. he says that he arrived in edinburgh on may , and, after resting for a day, went (on may ) to the brethren assembled at dundee. they all marched to perth, meaning thence to accompany the preachers to their day of law at stirling, may . but, lest the proceeding should seem rebellious, they sent a baron (erskine of dun, in fact) to the regent, "with declaration of our minds." the regent _and council_ in reply, bade the multitude "stay, and not come to stirling . . . and so should no extremity be used, but the summons should be continued" (deferred) "till further advisement. which, being gladly granted of us, some of the brethren returned to their dwelling- places. but the queen _and her council_, nothing mindful of her and their promise, incontinent did call" (summon) "the preachers, and for lack of their appearance, did exile and put them and their assistants to the horn. . . . " { b} it would be interesting to know who the regent's council were on this occasion. the reformer errs when he tells mrs. locke that the regent outlawed "the assisters" of the preachers. dr. m'crie publishes an extract from the "justiciary records" of may , in which methuen, christison, harlaw, and willock, and no others, are put to the horn, or outlawed, in absence, for breach of the regent's proclamations, and for causing "tumults and seditions." no one else is put to the horn, but the sureties for the preachers' appearance are fined. { c} in his "history," knox says that the regent, when erskine of dun arrived at stirling as an emissary of the brethren, "began to craft with him, soliciting him to stay the multitude, and the preachers also, with promise that she would take some better order." erskine wrote to the brethren, "to stay and not to come forward, showing what promise and _hope_ he had of the queen's grace's favours." some urged that they should go forward till the summons was actually "discharged," otherwise the preachers and their companions would be put to the horn. others said that the regent's promises were "not to be suspected . . . and so did the whole multitude with their preachers stay. . . . the queen, perceiving that the preachers did not appear, began to utter her malice, and notwithstanding any request made on the contrary, gave command to put them to the horn. . . ." erskine then prudently withdrew, rode to perth, and "did conceal nothing of the queen's craft and falsehood." { a} in this version the regent bears all the blame, nothing is said of the council. "the whole multitude stay"--at perth, or it may perhaps be meant that they do not come forward towards stirling. the regent's promise is merely that she would "take some better order." she does not here promise to _postpone_ the summons, and refuses "any request made" to abstain from putting them to the horn. the account, therefore, is somewhat more vague than that in the letter to mrs. locke. prof. hume brown puts it that the regent "in her understanding with erskine of dun _had publicly cancelled_ the summons of the preachers for the th of may," which rather overstates the case perhaps. that she should "publicly cancel" or "discharge" the summons was what a part of the brethren desired, and did not get. { b} we now turn to a fragmentary and anonymous "historie of the estate of scotland," concerning which prof. hume brown says, "whoever the author may have been, he writes as a contemporary, or from information supplied by a contemporary . . . what inspires confidence in him is that certain of his facts not recorded by other contemporary scottish historians are corroborated by the despatches of d'oysel and others in teulet." { c} i elsewhere { d} give reasons for thinking that this "historie" is perhaps the chronicle of bruce of earl's hall, a contemporary gentleman of fife. i also try to show that he writes, on one occasion, as an eye- witness. this author, who is a strong partisan of the reformers, says nothing of the broken promise of the regent and council. he mentions the intention to march to stirling, and then writes: "and although the queen regent was most earnestly requested and persuaded to continue"--that is to defer the summons--"nevertheless she remained wilful and obstinate, so that the counsel of god must needs take effect. shortly, the day being come, because they appeared not, their sureties were outlawed, and the preachers ordered to be put to the horn. the laird of dun, who was sent from perth by the brethren, perceiving her obstinacy, they" (who?) "turned from stirling, and coming to perth, declared to the brethren the obstinacy they found in the queen. . . . " this sturdy protestant's version, which does not accuse the regent of breaking troth, is corroborated by a catholic contemporary, lesley, bishop of ross. he says that erskine of dun was sent to beg the regent not to impose a penalty on the preachers in their absence. but as soon as dun returned and knox learned from him that the regent would not grant their request, he preached the sermon which provoked the devastation of the monasteries. { a} buchanan and spottiswoode follow knox, but they both use knox's book, and are not independent witnesses. the biographers of knox do not quote "the historie of the estate of scotland," where it touches on the beginning of the revolution, without disparaging the regent's honour. we have another dubious witness, sir james melville, who arrived on a mission from france to the regent on june ; he left paris about june . this is the date of a letter { b} in which henri ii. offers the regent every assistance in the warmest terms. melville writes, however, that in his verbal orders, delivered by the constable in the royal presence, the constable said, "i have intelligence that the queen regent has not kept all things promised to them." but melville goes on to say that the constable quoted d'elboeuf's failure to reach scotland with his fleet, as a reason for not sending the troops which were promised by henri. as d'elboeuf's failure occurred long after the date of the alleged conversation, the evidence of melville is here incorrect. he wrote his "memoirs" much later, in old age, but henri may have written to the regent in one sense, and given melville orders in another. { a} we find that knox's charge against the regent is not made in our earliest information, croft's letter of may : is not made by the protestant (and, we think, contemporary) author of the "historie," and, of course, is not hinted at by lesley, a catholic. we have seen throughout that knox vilifies mary of guise in cases where she is blameless. on the other hand, knox is our only witness who was at perth at the time of the events, and it cannot be doubted that what he told mrs. locke was what he believed, whether correctly or erroneously. he could believe anything against mary of guise. archbishop spottiswoode says, "the author of the story" ("history") "ascribed to john knox in his whole discourse showeth a bitter and hateful spite against the regent, forging dishonest things which were never so much as suspected by any, setting down his own conjectures as certain truths, yea, the least syllable that did escape her in passion, he maketh it an argument of her cruel and inhuman disposition . . . " { b} in the ms. used by bishop keith, { c} spottiswoode added, after praising the regent, "these things i have heard my father often affirm"; he had the like testimony "from an honourable and religious lady, who had the honour to wait near her person." spottiswoode was, therefore, persuaded that the "history" "was none of mr. knox his writings." in spite of this opinion, spottiswoode, writing about - , accepts most of the hard things that knox says of the regent's conduct in , and indeed exaggerates one or two of them; that is, as relates to her political behaviour, for example, in the affair of the broken promise of may . it may be urged that here spottiswoode had the support of the reminiscences of his father, a superintendent in the knoxian church. appendix b: forgery procured by mary of guise in the writer's opinion several of knox's accusations of perfidy against the regent, in , are not proved, and the attempts to prove them are of a nature which need not be qualified. but it is necessary to state the following facts as tending to show that the regent was capable of procuring a forgery against the duke of chatelherault. a letter attributed to him exists in the french archives, { a} dated glasgow, january , , in which the duke curries favour with francis ii., and encloses his blank bond, un blanc scelle, offering to send his children to france. { b} _on january_ , the regent writes from scotland to de noailles, then the french ambassador to england, bidding him to mention this submission to elizabeth, and even show the duke's letter and blank bond, that elizabeth may see how little he is to be trusted. now how could the regent, on january , have a letter sent by the duke to france on january ? she must have intercepted it in scotland. { c} next, on march , , the duke, writing to norfolk, denies the letter attributed to him by the french. { d} he said that any one of a hundred hamiltons would fight m. de seurre (the french ambassador who, in february, succeeded de noailles) on this quarrel. { e} there exists a document, in the cipher of throckmorton, english ambassador in france, purporting to be a copy of a letter from the regent to the duc and cardinal de guise, dated edinburgh, march , . { f} the regent, at that date, was in leith, not in edinburgh castle, where she went on april . in that letter she is made to say that de seurre has "very evil misunderstood" the affair of the letter attributed to chatelherault. she had procured "blanks" of his "by one of her servants here" (at leith) "to the late bishop of ross"; the duke's alleged letter and submission of january had been "filled up" on a "blank," the duke knowing nothing of the matter. this letter of the regent, then, must also, if authentic, have been somehow intercepted or procured by throckmorton, in france. it is certain that throckmorton sometimes, by bribery, did obtain copies of secret french papers, but i have not found him reporting to cecil or queen elizabeth this letter of the regent's. the reader must estimate for himself the value of that document. i have stated the case as fairly as i can, and though the evidence against the regent, as it stands, would scarcely satisfy a jury, i believe that, corrupted by the evil example of the congregation, the regent, in january , did procure a forgery intended to bring suspicion on chatelherault. but how could she be surprised that de seurre did not understand the real state of the case? the regent may have explained the true nature of the affair to de noailles, but it may have been unknown to de seurre, who succeeded that ambassador. yet, how could she ask any ambassador to produce a confessed forgery as genuine? footnotes { a} inventories of mary, queen of scots, p. cxxii., note . { b} hume brown, john knox, ii. - . { a} probably mrs. knox died in her son's youth, and his father married again. catholic writers of the period are unanimous in declaring that knox had a stepmother. { b} knox, laing's edition, iv. . { } see young's letter, first published by professor hume brown, john knox, vol. ii. appendix, - . { } laing, in his knox, vi. xxi. xxii. { } knox, i. - . the facts are pointed out by professor cowan in the athenaeum, december , , and had been recognised by dr. hay fleming. { } beza, writing in , says that study of st. jerome and st. augustine suggested his doubts. icones virorum doctrina simul ac pietate illustrium. { } pollen, papal negotiations with mary stuart, - , , , . { } knox, vi. , . { } letter of young to beza. hume brown, john knox, ii. - . { a} cf. life of george wishart, by the rev. charles rodger, - ( ). { b} maxwell, old dundee, , . { } m'crie's knox, ( ). { a} "letter to the faithful," cf. m'crie, life of john knox, . { b} knox, vi. . { } m'crie, . { } dr. hay fleming has impugned this opinion, but i am convinced by the internal evidence of tone and style in the tract; indeed, an earlier student has anticipated my idea. the tract is described by dr. m'crie in his life of knox, - ( ). { } most of the gentry of fife were in the murder or approved of it, and the castle seems to have contained quite a pleasant country-house party. they were cheered by the smiles of beauty, and in the treasurer's accounts we learn that janet monypenny of pitmilly (an estate still in the possession of her family), was "summoned for remaining in the castle, and assisting" the murderers. dr. m'crie cites janet in his list of "scottish martyrs and prosecutions for heresy" (life of knox, ). this martyr was a cousin, once removed, of the murdered ecclesiastic. { a} knox, laing's edition, i. . { b} knox, i. . "the siege continued to near the end of january." "the truce was of treacherous purpose," i. . { } knox, i. - . { a} thorpe's calendar, i. ; register privy council, i. , ; tytler, vi. ( ). { b} state papers, scotland, thorpe, i. . { c} bain, calendar of scottish papers, - , i. i; tytler, iii. ( ). { a} bain i. ; knox, i. , . { b} for the offering of the papal remission to the garrison of the castle before april , , see stewart of cardonald's letter of that date to wharton, in bain's calendar of scottish papers, - , i. - . { a} john knox, i. . { b} state papers, domestic. addenda, edward vi., p. . lord eure says there were twenty galleys. { c} odet de selve, correspondence politique, pp. - . { } knox, i. . { a} leonti strozzio, incolumitatem modo pacti, se dediderunt, writes buchanan. professor hume brown says that buchanan evidently confirms knox; but incolumitas means security for bare life, and nothing more. lesley says that the terms _asked_ were life and fortune, salvi cum fortunis, but the terms _granted_ were but safety in life and limb, and, it seems, freedom to depart, ut soli homines integri discederent. if lesley, a catholic historian, is right, and if by discederent he means "go freely away," the french broke the terms of surrender. { b} knox, i. , . { a} lorimer, john knox and the church of england, . { b} ibid., . { c} ibid., , . { } compare the preface, under the restoration, to our existing prayer book. { a} lorimer, john knox and the church of england, - . { b} knox, iii. . { a} knox, iii. . { b} ibid., iii. . { a} knox, iii. - . { b} lorimer, i. - . { } but, for the date, cf. hume brown, john knox, i. ; and m'crie, , note ; knox, iii. . { a} knox, iii. . { b} laing, knox, vi. pp. lxxx., lxxxi. { c} pollen, the month, september . { } knox, iii. . { } lorimer, john knox and the church of england, . { a} original letters, parker society, - ; knox, iii. - . { b} m'crie, ( ); knox, iii. . { } knox, iii. . { a} knox, iii. . { b} ibid., iii. , . { c} ibid., iii. . { } cf. hume brown, ii. , for the terms. { } john knox, i. , ; corp. ref., xliii. - . { } for the frankfort affair, see laing's knox, iv. - , with knox's own narrative, - ; the letters to and from calvin, - . calvin, in his letter to the puritans at frankfort, writes: "in the anglican liturgy, _as you describe it_, i see many trifles that may be put up with," prof. hume brown's rendering of tolerabiles ineptias. the author of the "troubles at frankfort" ( ) leaves out "as you describe it," and renders "in the liturgie of englande i see that there were manye tollerable foolishe thinges." but calvin, though he boasts him "easy and flexible in mediis rebus, such as external rites," is decidedly in favour of the puritans. { } knox i. . { a} knox, i. , note i. { b} ibid., iv. . { } i conceive these to have been the arguments of the party of compromise, judging from the biblical texts which they adduced. { } knox, i. - . { a} knox, i. . { b} ibid., iv. - . { } knox; iv. - . { } we shall see that reformers like lord james and glencairn seem, at this moment, to have sided with mary of guise. { a} knox, i. - . { b} corpus reformatorum, xlvi. . { a} more probably by calvin's opinion. { b} knox, iv. - ; i. - . { } stevenson, selected mss., pp. , ( ); bain, i. ; randolph to cecil, january , . { a} knox, iv. - . { b} ibid., i. , . { a} knox, i. , . { b} ibid., i. , . { } knox, iv. , . { } knox, iv. . zurich letters, - . { } knox, iv. , . { a} wodrow miscellany, vol. i. { b} here the "historie of the estate" is corroborated by the treasurer's accounts, recording payment to rothesay herald. he is summoning george lovell, david ferguson (a preacher, later minister of dunfermline), and others unnamed to appear at edinburgh on july , to answer for "wrongous using and wresting of the scriptures, disputing upon erroneous opinions, and eating flesh in lent," and at other times forbidden by acts of parliament (m'crie, , note g). nothing is here said about riotous iconoclasm, but lovell had been at the hanging of an image of st. francis as early as , and in many such godly exercises, or was accused of these acts of zeal. { c} "historie of the estate of scotland," wodrow miscellany, i. - . { a} knox, i. . { b} knox appears (he is very vague) to date calder's petition _after_ willock's second visit, which the "historie of the estate of scotland" places in october . dr. m'crie accepts that date, but finds that knox places calder's petition before the burning of myln, in april . dr. m'crie suggests that perhaps calder petitioned twice, but deems knox in the right. as the reformer contradicts himself, unless there were two calder petitions (i. , i. ), he must have made an oversight. { c} hume brown, john knox, ii. appendix, - . { d} knox, i. - { a} knox, i. , - . on p. knox dates the parliament in october. { b} knox, i. - . { a} knox, i. - . { b} see laing's edition, i. , . { } wodrow miscellany, i. . { a} m'crie, knox, , . { b} knox, i. , . { a} knox, i. . { b} "historie," wodrow miscellany, i. , . { c} knox, i. - . { a} "historie," wodrow miscellany, . { b} melville, , ( ). but professor hume brown appears to be misled in saying that bettencourt, or bethencourt, did not reach scotland till june (john knox, i. i note i), citing forbes, i. . bethencourt "passed berwick on april " (for. cal. eliz., - , ) to negotiate the scottish part in the peace, signed at upsettlington (may ). bethencourt would be with the regent by april , and he may have confirmed her in summoning the preachers who defied her proclamations, though, with or without his advice, she could do no less. { a} pitscottie, ii. . { b} state papers, borders, vol. i. no. ms. { a} affaires etrangeres, angleterre, vol. xv. ms. { b} forbes, ; throckmorton to cecil, may . { c} for. cal. eliz., - , . { } melville, . { a} statuta, &c. robertson, vol. i. clv-clxii. { b} book of discipline. knox, ii. , . { a} m'crie, . { b} the regent's account of the whole affair, as given by francis and mary to the pope, is vague and mistily apologetic. (published in french by prof. hume brown, ii. - .) the regent wrote from dunbar, july , that she had in vain implored the pope to aid her in reforming the lives of the clergy (as in - ). their negligence had favoured, though she did not know it (and she says nothing about it in - ), the secret growth of heresy. next, a public preacher arose in one town (probably paul methuen in dundee) introducing the genevan church. the regent next caused the bishops to assemble the clergy, bidding them reform their lives, and then repress heresy. she also called an assembly of the estates, when most of the lords, hors du conseil et a part, demanded "a partial establishment of the new religion." this was refused, and the provincial council (of march ) was called for reform of the clergy. nothing resulted but scandal and popular agitation. public preachers arose in the towns. the regent assembled her forces, and the lords and congregation began their career of violence. { } as to knox's account of this reforming provincial council (knox, i. , ), lord hailes calls it "exceedingly partial and erroneous . . . no zeal can justify a man for misrepresenting an adversary." bold language for a judge to use in ! cf. robertson, statuta, i. clxii, note i. { } knox, v. - . { a} knox, v. , . { b} ibid., v. . { c} ibid., v. , . { d} ibid., v. - . [this footnote is provided in the original book but isn't referenced in the text. dp.] { } john knox and the church of england, - . { } knox, ii. , . we return to this point. { } bale, scriptorum illustrium majoris brit. catalogus poster., p. ( ). knox, i. - . { a} dieppe, april -april , . knox, vi. - . { b} desmarquets, mem. chronol. jour. l'hist, de dieppe, i. . { a} corp. ref., xlv. (calv., xvii.) . { b} naissance de l'heresie a dieppe, rouen, , ed. lesens. { } knox, i. - . { } knox, vi. . { a} corpus reformatorum, xlvi. , xlvii. - , august , . { b} the learned dr. m'crie does not refer to this letter to mrs. locke, but observes: "none of the gentry or sober part of the congregation were concerned in this unpremeditated tumult; it was wholly confined to the lowest of the inhabitants" (m'crie's life of knox, , ). yet an authority dear to dr. m'crie, "the historie of the estate of scotland," gives the glory, not to the lowest of the inhabitants, but to "the brethren." professor hume brown blames "the perth mob," and says nothing of the action of the "brethren," as described to mrs. locke by knox. john knox, ii. . { } theses of erastus. rev. robert lee. edinburgh, . { } knox, i. , ; vi. . did the brethren promise nothing but the evacuation of perth? { a} "historie," wodrow miscellany, i. . { b} knox, i. , . the congregation are said to have left perth on may . they assert their presence there on may , in their band. { } edinburgh burgh records. { a} but see knox, i. - . is a week (june to june ) accidentally omitted? { b} writing on june , knox dates the "reformation" "june ." his dates, at this point, though recorded within three weeks, are to me inexplicable. knox, vi. . { } keith, i. , note. { a} lesley, ii. , scottish text society. { b} for. cal. eliz., - , . { a} knox, vi. . { b} ibid., i. . { c} wodrow miscellany, i. . { a} knox, vi. . { b} see scottish historical review, january , - , - . { } bain, i. . { a} for. cal. eliz., - , . erroneously dated "may " (?). { b} bain, i. - ; for. cal. eliz., ut supra, , . { c} archives etrangeres, angleterre, vol. xv. ms. { d} for. cal. eliz., ; knox, i. , . { } knox, i. - . { a} knox dates the entry of the reformers into edinburgh on june . but he wrote to mrs. locke from edinburgh on june , probably a misprint. the date june is given in the "historie." knox dates a letter to cecil, "edinburgh, june ." the diurnal of occurrents dates the sack of monasteries in edinburgh june . { b} wodrow miscellany, i. ; knox, i. , , . { c} knox, i. ; cf. keith, i. , ; spottiswoode, i. , . { a} knox, i. - ; for. cal. eliz., . { b} teulet, i. - . { a} bain, i. ; for. cal. eliz., - , . . { b} knox, vi. . { } in dr. hay fleming's the scottish reformation (p. ), he dates the regent's proclamation july . he omits the charge that, as proof of their disloyalty, "they daily receive englishmen with messages, and send the like into england" (knox, i. p. ). "the narrative of the proclamation, knox says, is untrue," dr. hay fleming remarks; but as to the dealing with england, the reformer confessed to it in his "history," book iii., when he could do so with safety. { a} knox, i. . { b} spottiswoode, i. . { c} teulet, i. . the regent's instructions to du fresnoy. { } teulet, i. , , citing archives etrangeres, angleterre, xiv. (xv.?), f. (see the english translation), for. cal. eliz., - , , ; keith, i. , ; spottiswoode, i. , . { a} extracts from edinburgh town council records, july , ; keith, i. - . { b} cf. hume brown, john knox, ii. . { a} knox, i. - . the italicised articles are not in the other versions of the terms as finally settled; cf. "historie," wodrow miscellany, i. - . { b} ibid., i. . { a} knox, i. . { b} sloane mss., british museum, , b, f, b. for. cal. eliz. - , . { a} knox, i. . { b} my italics. { } (kyrkcaldy to croft.) "theis salbe to certiffy you vpon monday the xxiii of jully the quene and the lordis of the congregation are agreit on this maner as followeth. the armies beying boythe in syghte betuix eddingburght and lietht or partye adversaire send mediatoris desyring that we sall agree and cease frome sheddinge of blude yf we wer men quhilkis wold fulfill in deid that thing quhilk we proffessit, that is the preachyng of godis worde and furth settyng of his glorye. me lordis of the congregation movet by thare offres wer content to here commonyng. so fynallye after long talke, it is appointted on this maner. that the religion here begoon sall proceid and contenew in all places wt owt impedement of the quenes authoretie, thare minesters sall neyther be trubillit nor stopped and in all places whare ydolletre is put downe sall not be cett vp agane. and whill the parlement be haldin to consele vpon all materes wch is fixit the x day of januarye nixt, every man sall leive to his conscience not compellit be authoretye to do any thyng in religion yt his conscience repugnes to. and to this said parlement ther sall no man of or congregation be molested or trobillit in thair bodeis landis goodis possessions what someevir. further wt all dilligent spede ther frenche men here present salbe send awaye. and sall no other cum in this realme w owt consent of the hole nobilite. the towne of eddingburght salbe keipit fre by the inhabitantes thairof and no maner of garnission laid or keip thair in, neyther of frenche nor scottis. for our part we sall remove of eddingburght to or awne houssis, yt the quene may come to hir awne palyce, wch we tuke of before and hathe left it voyde to hir g. we have delyvered the prentyng yrunes of the coyne agayne wch we tuke becaus of the corruption of monye agaynst our laws and commonwealthe. off truthe we believe nevir worde to be keipit of thir promises of her syde. and therfore hath tane me lord duke the erll of huntlye and the rest of the nobillitye beying vpon hir syde bound to the performance hereof wt this condition yf sche brekkes any point heirof they sall renunce hir obeysance and joyne them selfis wt vs. in this meane-tyme we contenew or men of warr to gydder wt in or boundis of fyfe, angus, stretherin and westland, in aduenture the appointtment be broken, and dowtes not to mak vs daily stronger for by the furthe settying of religion and haittred of the frenche men we gett the hartis of the hole commonalties. nowe to conclude yf it had not bene for some nobillmens causis who hes promised to be owres we hade not appointted wt the quene at this tyme. from hens forwardis send to the lard of ormiston who will se all saifly conveyed to me. thvs i commit you to god from eddingburght the xxiiii of jully yoris at power (w. kyrkcaldy)." { } { } ms. record office; cf. for. cal. eliz., , , . { a} knox, i. , . { b} ibid., i. . { a} knox, vi. . { b} ibid., i. - . the proclamation, and two replies. { c} my italics. { } knox, i. xxvi.; vi. . { a} knox, i. , . { b} ibid., i. . { a} knox, ii. - . { b} ibid., vi. - . { } s. p. scotland, elizabeth, ms. vol. i. no. ; cf. bain, i. , . croft to cecil, berwick, august , . { a} for. cal. eliz., . { b} i assume that he was the preacher at edinburgh in d'oysel's letter of june -july , . teulet, i. . { } sadleir to cecil, september , . for. cal. eliz., , - . the fortification, says professor hume brown, "was a distinct breach of the late agreement" (of july ), "and they weir not slow to remind her" (the regent) "of her bad faith." the agreement of july says nothing about fortifying. the ingenious brethren argued that to fortify leith entailed "oppression of our poor brethren, indwellers of the same." now the agreement forbade "oppression of any of the congregation." but the people of leith had "rendered themselves" to the regent on july , and the breach of treaty, if any, was "constructive." (john knox, ii. ; knox, i. , - .) { a} the evidence as to these proceedings of the brethren is preserved in the french archives, and consists of testimonies given on oath in answer to inquiries made by francis and mary in november . { b} we have dated lethington's desertion of the regent about october , because knox says it was a "few days before our first defeat" on the last day in october. m. teulet dates in the beginning of october a latin manifesto by the congregation to all the princes of christendom. this document is a long arraignment of the regent's policy; her very concessions as to religion are declared to be tricks, meant to bring the protestant lords under the letter of the law. the paper may be thought to show the hand of lethington, not of knox. but, in point of fact, i incline to think that the real author of this manifesto was cecil. he sketches it in a letter sent from the english privy council in november , . this draft was to be used by the rebels in an appeal to elizabeth. { } knox, vi, , ; m'crie, . { a} bothwell states the amount at ecus de soleil. french archives ms. { b} knox, i. . { a} sadleir to cecil, nov. , . for. cal. eliz., - , . { b} labanoff, vii. . { } knox, vi. - . { } see appendix b. { a} corp. ref., xlv. ( , note i). { b} calvinus sturmio, corp. ref., xlvi. , , march , . sturmius calvino, ibid., - , april . { a} bain, i. , ; for. cal. eliz., - , . { b} knox, ii. ; cf. the regent's letter. bain, i. . { a} the date may be part of an interpolation. { b} this account is from the french archives ms., angleterre, vol. xv. { } knox, ii. . { } it is an inexplicable fact that, less than a month before glencairn and lord james signed the first godly band (december , ), these two, with kirkcaldy of grange, "were acting with the queen-dowager against huntly, chatelherault, and argyll," who in december signed with them the godly band. the case is thus stated by mr. tytler, perhaps too vigorously. it appears that, after the refusal of the lords to cross tweed and attack england, in the autumn of , the regent, with the concurrence of glencairn, lord james, and kirkcaldy of grange, proposed to recall from exile in england the earl of lennox, father of darnley. he, like the chief of the hamiltons, had a claim to the crown of scotland, failing heirs born of mary stuart. lennox, therefore, would be a counterpoise to hamilton and his ally in mutiny, argyll. thus lord james and glencairn, in november ; support the regent against the hamiltons and argyll, but in december glencairn, reconciled to argyll, signs with him the godly band. we descry the old stewart versus hamilton feud in these proceedings. { } knox, ii. , note. { } knox, ii. - . { a} randolph to cecil, september ; bain, i. , . { b} knox, vi. , . { c} knox, vi. lxxxii. { } m'crie, life of john knox, ( ). { a} keith, iii. - . { b} bain, i. . { c} cf. edinburgh burgh records. { } knox, ii. . { } queen mary's letter to guise, p. xlii., scottish history society, . { a} lesley, ii. ( ). { b} see lord james to throckmorton, london, may , a passage quoted by mr. murray rose, scot. hist. review, no. , . additional mss. brit. mus., , , f. , . lord james to throckmorton, may - june , . { c} bain, i. , . { d} lord james to dudley, october , , bain, i. . { } pollen, papal negotiations, . { a} knox, ii, . { b} bain, ii. . { } bain, ii. . { } knox, ii. , . { } knox, vi. . { } knox, ii. , . { } tracts by david fergusson, bannatyne club, . { a} bain, i. , . { b} lord james to lord robert dudley, october , . bain, i. , . lethington's account of his reasonings with elizabeth is not very hopeful. pollen, "queen mary's letter to guise," scot. hist. soc., - . { a} bain, i. . { b} knox, vi. , ; ii. . { c} the proclamation against "all monks, friars, priests, nuns, adulterers, fornicators, and all such filthy persons," was of october . on october the queen bade the council and community of the town to meet in the tolbooth, depose the provost and bailies, and elect others. on october the order was carried out, and protests were put in. a note from lethington was received, containing three names, out of which the queen commanded that one must be provost. the council "thought good to pass to her grace," show that they had already made their election, and await her pleasure. "jezebel's letter and wicked will is obeyed as law," says knox.--extracts from records of the burgh of edinburgh, , . { } knox, vi. - . corp. refor., xlvii. . { a} corp. refor., xlvii. , . { b} bain, i. , . { c} ibid., i. . randolph to cecil. { } bain, i. , . { a} froude, iii. - ( ). { b} knox, vi. . { a} knox, vi. - . { b} bain, i. . randolph to cecil, november . { c} ibid., i. - . { a} there was a small guard, but no powerful guard existed till after riccio's murder. { b} bain, i. . randolph to cecil, december . { c} ibid., i. . { } it is plain from randolph (bain, i. ) that the precise feared that mary, if secured by the english alliance, would be severe with "true professors of christ." { } keith, iii. , . { a} knox, ii. - . pollen, "mary's letter to the duc de guise," xli.-xlvii. { b} bain, i. , . { c} ibid., i. . randolph to cecil, january , . { a} there is an air of secrecy in these transactions. in the register of the privy seal, vol. xxxi. fol. (ms.), is a "precept for a charter under the great seal," a charter to lord james for the earldom of moray. the date is january , - . on february , - , lord james receives the earldom of mar, having to pay a pair of gilded spurs on the feast of st. john (register of privy seal, vol. xxx. fol. ). lord james now bore the title of earl of mar, not, as yet--not till huntly was put at--of moray. { b} dr. hay fleming quotes randolph thus: "the papists mistrust greatly the meeting; the protestants as greatly desire it. the preachers are more vehement than discreet or learned." (mary queen of scots, p. , note , citing for. cal. eliz., iv. .) the calendar is at fault and gives the impression that the ministers vehemently preached in favour of the meeting of the queen. this was not so, randolph goes on, "which i heartily lament." he uses the whole phrase, more than is here given, not only on january , but on february . now randolph desired the meeting, so the preachers must have "thundered" against it! they feared that mary would become a member of the church of england, "of which they both say and preach that it is little better than when it was at the worst" (bain, i. ). { c} keith, ii. . { } the teviotdale ormistouns of that ilk. { a} in pitcairn's criminal trials is arran's report of bothwell's very words, vol. i., part , pp. - . { b} bain, i. , . { a} bain, i. , . { b} knox, ii. . { c} ibid., ii. , . { d} cf. baird, the rise of the huguenots, ii. et seq. { a} bain, i. . randolph to cecil, may . { b} cf. froude, vi. - . { c} "book of discipline," knox, ii. . { d} m'crie, . { a} knox, ii. - . { b} bain, i. . { c} randolph mentions the joy of the court over some guisian successes against the huguenots, then up in arms, while mary was on her expedition against huntly, in october . on december he says that there is little dancing, less because of knox's sermons than on account of bad news from france. bain, i. , . dr. hay fleming dates the wicked dance in december , but of course that date was not the moment when "persecution was begun again in france," nor would mary be skipping in december for joy over letters of the previous march. mary queen of scots, . { } knox, vi. , . { a} keith, iii. , . { b} bain, i. . { c} lesley, ii. . { d} knox, vi. . { a} knox, ii. - . { b} hay fleming, mary queen of scots, . { a} knox, ii. . { b} act parl. scot., ii. . { c} bain, i. . { d} bain, i. . { a} chalmers, in his life of queen mary, vol. i. - ( ), takes the view of the huntly affair which we adopt, but, observing the quietly obtained title of moray under the privy seal (january , - ) and the publicly assumed title of mar, granted on february , - , chalmers (mistaking huntly for a loyal man) denounces the treachery of lord james and the "credulity" of the queen. to myself it appears that brother and sister were equally deep in the scheme for exalting moray and destroying huntly. { b} cf. pollen, papal negotiations, , . { c} knox, ii. . { d} ibid., ii. . { a} bain, i. . { b} froude, ii. ( ). { a} registrum de panmure, i.-xxxii., cited by maxwell; old dundee, . book of the universal kirk, . { a} knox, ii. - ; ii. , ; keith, iii. , . { b} spanish calendar, i. . { c} bain, i. - . { d} knox, ii. - . { a} knox, ii, . { b} bain, i. . { c} ibid., i. . { d} knox, li. ; bain, i. . lethington's argument against lennox's claim, march , . { a} knox, ii. . { b} bain, ii. . { a} knox, ii. - . { b} ibid., ii. - . { c} bain, ii. , . { a} knox, ii. . { b} ibid., ii. - . { a} bain, ii. . { b} ibid., ii. . { c} spanish calendar, i. . { d} bain, ii. , . { a} bain, ii. ; knox, ii. , . { b} hume brown, scotland under queen mary, p. . { c} pitcairn, criminal trials, i. . { d} dr. m'crie accepts, like keith, a story of spottiswoode's not elsewhere found (m'crie, ), but innocently remarks that, as to the brawl in chapel, spottiswoode could not know the facts so well as knox! (p. ). certainly twenty-two attendants on the mass were "impanelled" for trial for their religious misdemeanour. knox, ii. , note i. { a} knox, ii. . { b} randolph to cecil; bain, ii. , . { c} knox, ii. - . { a} keith, ii. . the version in bain, ii. , is differently worded. { b} knox, ii. . { } knox, ii. - . { } pitcairn, criminal trials, i. , . { a} randolph, december ; bain, ii. ; knox, ii. . { b} randolph, february , ; bain, i. , . { c} knox, ii. , note . { } knox, ii. - . { } bain, i. ; ii. . { } knox, ii. , . { a} lethington spoke merely of "controversies" (knox, ii. ). i give the confessed meaning of the controversy. { b} compare knox, ii. , as to the discussion at makgill's house in november . { c} knox, ii. , . { a} original letters, parker society, bullinger to calvin, march , , pp. - . { b} knox, ii. , . { a} the very programme of the general assembly for the treatment of catholics, in november . see p. infra. { b} knox, v. - . { a} knox, ii. . { b} ibid., ii. , . { } randolph to cecil, february , ; bain, ii. . { a} knox, ii. . { b} ibid., vi. , . { a} knox, vi. ; ii. . { b} ibid., ii. . { c} ibid., vi. . { a} book of the universal kirk, . { b} knox, vi. . { c} bain, ii. , . { d} stevenson, selections, - . { a} papal negotiations, xxxviii.-xliii. { b} keith, ii. - . { c} knox, ii. . { a} knox, i. . { b} hume brown, john knox, ii. . { a} randolph to cecil, march , . bain, ii. , . diurnal, march , . knox's prayer, knox, vi. , . { b} bain, ii. , . { c} see calvin's letter of january or april , , corpus reformatorum, xlviii. - . { a} life of knox, , note ; cf. knox, ii. . { b} burnet, history of the reformation, iii. . { c} knox, ii. - . { a} knox, vi. - . { b} state papers, mary, queen of scots, vol. xiii., no. , ms. { a} book of the universal kirk, - . { b} stevenson, illustrations of the reign of queen mary, . { c} knox, ii. . { a} stevenson, . { b} ibid., , july . { c} chalmers's "life of mary," ii. . { a} knox, vi. - . { b} if born in - , he was only about fifty-three to fifty-five. { a} knox, vi. . { b} knox and the church of england, . { c} strype's grindal, - ( ). { a} corp. ref., xlvii. , . { b} strype's grindal, - . { a} zurich letters. - , pp. - . { b} strype's grindal, . also the letter of grindal in ellis, iii. iii. { a} knox, ii. - . { b} knox and the church of england, - . { a} knox, vi. . { b} ibid., vi. . { c} m'crie, . { a} bannatyne's memorials, - ( ). { b} calderwood, ii. - . { } bannatyne's transactions, - . bannatyne was knox's secretary, and fragments dictated by the reformer appear in his pages. { a} melville's "diary," - . { b} knox, vi. - . { a} bannatyne, , ( ). { b} knox, vi. - . { c} ibid., { a} bannatyne, . { b} ibid., . { c} ibid., . { d} john knox, ii. , . { } cf. leicester's letter of october , , in tytler, vii. chap, iv., and appendix. { } tytler, vii. chap. iv.; appendix xi, with letters. { a} knox, ii. ; bannatyne, , . { b} morton to killigrew, august , . { } bannatyne, - . { } there was another falsyde. { a} see the letter in maxwell's old dundee, - . { b} bain's calendar is misleading here (vol. i. ). why mr. bain summarised wrongly in , what father stevenson had done correctly in (for. cal. eliz,, p. ) is a mystery. { a} see the "prefatio," knox, i. , . in this preface knox represents the brethren as still being "unjustly persecuted by france and their faction." the book ends with the distresses of the protestants in november , with the words, "look upon us, o lord, in the multitude of thy mercies; for we are brought even to the deep of the dungeon."--knox, i. . { b} knox, vi. , . { c} m'crie's knox, . { a} knox, i. - . { b} hume brown, john knox, ii. . { c} john knox, ii. . { d} scot. hist. review, january . { a} lesley, ii. , scottish text society, . { b} in the french archives ms., angleterre, vol. xv. { a} melville, ( ). { b} spottiswoode, i. . { c} keith, i. , ( ). { a} angl. reg., xvi., fol. . { b} teulet, i. . { c} ibid., i. . { d} for. cal. eliz., - , p. . { e} ibid., p. . { f} ibid., p. . internet archive (https://archive.org) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/reformationthere bewsuoft transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). text enclosed by plus signs is in bold face (+bold+). small capitals have been replaced by full capitals. the signature of a letter from henry viii. to anne boleyn includes a monogram combining a and b. this has been transcribed as '(ab)'. the superscript 'li', meaning 'pound sterling', has been transcribed as '-li'. the superscript 'dd', meaning unclear, has been transcribed as '-dd'. bell's english history source books general editors: s. e. winbolt, m.a., and kenneth bell, m.a. the reformation and the renaissance ( - ) compiled by fred. w. bewsher, b.a. st. paul's school [illustration] second edition london g. bell and sons, ltd. introduction this series of english history source books is intended for use with any ordinary textbook of english history. experience has conclusively shown that such apparatus is a valuable--nay, an indispensable--adjunct to the history lesson. it is capable of two main uses: either by way of lively illustration at the close of a lesson, or by way of inference-drawing, before the textbook is read, at the beginning of the lesson. the kind of problems and exercises that may be based on the documents are legion, and are admirably illustrated in a _history of england for schools_, part i., by keatinge and frazer, pp. - . however, we have no wish to prescribe for the teacher the manner in which he shall exercise his craft, but simply to provide him and his pupils with materials hitherto not readily accessible for school purposes. the very moderate price of the books in this series should bring them within the reach of every secondary school. source books enable the pupil to take a more active part than hitherto in the history lesson. here is the apparatus, the raw material: its use we leave to teacher and taught. our belief is that the books may profitably be used by all grades of historical students between the standards of fourth-form boys in secondary schools and undergraduates at universities. what differentiates students at one extreme from those at the other is not so much the kind of subject-matter dealt with, as the amount they can read into or extract from it. in regard to choice of subject-matter, while trying to satisfy the natural demand for certain "stock" documents of vital importance, we hope to introduce much fresh and novel matter. it is our intention that the majority of the extracts should be lively in style--that is, personal, or descriptive, or rhetorical, or even strongly partisan--and should not so much profess to give the truth as supply data for inference. we aim at the greatest possible variety, and lay under contribution letters, biographies, ballads and poems, diaries, debates, and newspaper accounts. economics, london, municipal, and social life generally, and local history, are represented in these pages. the order of the extracts is strictly chronological, each being numbered, titled, and dated, and its authority given. the text is modernised, where necessary, to the extent of leaving no difficulties in reading. we shall be most grateful to teachers and students who may send us suggestions for improvement. s. e. winbolt. kenneth bell. note to this volume. the purpose of this volume is to supply several of those documents which are of great historical importance, and which, at present, find no place in the series of documents published by the oxford university press. further, while most of the more important historical events are dealt with, an attempt has been made to introduce the student to the tudor atmosphere, and to reproduce as much as possible, both the mental and bodily energy, the prosperity, and the general virility of the period. f. w. b. st. paul's school, _september _. table of contents page introduction v . device for the coronation of henry vii. _rutland papers_ . introduction of the yeomen of the guard. the sweating sickness _holinshed_ . insurrection of lambert simnel " . the levying of benevolences " . the rebellion of the cornishmen " . perkin warbeck's confession " . reception of princess catharine _paston letters_ . cardinal morton's fork _holinshed_ . the meeting of henry vii. and the king of castile _paston letters_ . superstition _erasmus_ . the making of beggars and thieves _more_ . enclosures _holinshed_ . visit of chas. v. to england _rutland papers_ . cardinal wolsey _john skelton_ . wolsey and the popedom _burnet's "collection of records"_ . wolsey and the king's marriage _burnet's "collection of records"_ . on the translation of the scriptures _william tyndale_ . english translations of the bible burnt _hall_ . two letters written by king henry _burnet's "collection to the university of oxford of records"_ . cardinal campeggio's judgment on the divorce of queen katharine _hall_ . anne boleyn's hatred of wolsey _cavendish_ . wolsey's fall " . a letter written by wolsey to dr. stephen gardner _cavendish_ . the king's last letter _burnet's "collection to the pope of records"_ . submission of the clergy and restraint of appeals _statutes of the realm_ . the ecclesiastical appointments act. the absolute restraint of annates " " . act forbidding papal dispensations and the payment of peter's pence " " . first act of succession " " . the supremacy act " " . letters of henry viii. to anne boleyn _lettres à anne boleyn_ . the sweating sickness " " . queen ann boleyn to king henry, _burnet's "history of from the tower the reformation"_ . act for dissolution of the lesser monasteries _statutes of the realm_ . suppression of the _burnet's "collection monastery of tewkesbury of records"_ . the insurrection in lincolnshire _hall_ . injunctions to the clergy _burnet's "collection made by cromwell of records"_ . act for the dissolution of the greater monasteries _statutes of the realm_ . the six articles act " " . henry viii. and sport _hall and holinshed_ . the attainder of thomas _burnet's "collection cromwell of records"_ . hertford's orders for the navy and army _hamilton papers_ . hertford and others to henry viii. " " . attempted invasion of england by the french _holinshed_ . the capture of the barque ager _hall_ . speech made by king henry viii. at the opening of parliament _hall_ . sermon on "the ploughers" _latimer_ the rules of justing _lord tiptolfe_ preface to colet's "latin grammar" _knight's "life of colet"_ the reformation and the renaissance ( - ) device for the coronation of king henry vii. ( ). +source.+--_rutland papers_, p. . published by the camden society, . this done, the cardinal, as archbishop of canterbury, shewing the king to the people at the iiij parties of the said pulpit, shall say in this wise; "sirs, i here present henry, true and rightful, and undoubted inheritor of the laws of god and man, to the crown and royal dignity of england, with all things thereunto annexed and appertaining, elect, chosen, and required by all three estates of the same land, to take upon him the said crown, and royal dignity, whereupon ye shall understand that this day is prefixed and appointed by all the peers of this land for the consecration, enunciation, and coronation." whereunto the people shall say, with a great voice, "yea. yea. yea. so be it king henry! king henry!" soon upon the said cardinal, as archbishop of canterbury, being reuysshed[ ] as appertaineth for celebration of mass and also the foresaid bishops of exeter and ely on both sides as above, with other bishops, and with the abbot of westminster, who oweth always to be near the king for his information in such things as concerneth the solemnity of the coronation, the king shall be brought honourably from his said seat unto the high altar, where the chancellor of england shall set down the chalice, and likewise the bishop of chichester his patten. the queen following the king thither, going afore her the lords as above bearing her crown, sceptre, and rod, and the abovesaid bishops sustaining her, for her shall be ordained, on the left side of the high altar, a folding stool wherein she shall sit while the king shall be required of the keeping of the customs and laws of england, and that done, whilst "veni creator spiritus" is a singing, and all the while the king is anointed, she shall kneel praying for the king and her self. at the which altar the king ought to offer a pall, and a pound of gold, xxiiij-li[ ] in coin, which shall be delivered unto him by the chamberlain; and, forthwith, the pavement afore the high altar worshipfully arrayed with carpets and cushions, the king shall then lie down grovelling, whilst the said cardinal as archbishop, say upon him, "deus humilium," which done, the said cardinal may, at his pleasure, command some short sermon to be said, during the which the said cardinal shall sit before the altar, his back towards the same, as is the custom, and the king shall sit opposite him, face to face, in a chair prepared as to his high estate accordeth. the sermon ended, if any such be, the cardinal and the king that is to be crowned so sitting as is above said, the same cardinal with an open and distinct voice shall ask the king under this form: "will ye grant and keep, to the people of england, the laws and customs to them as of old rightful and devout kings granted, and the same ratify and confirm by your oath and especially the laws, customs, and liberties to be granted to the clergy and people by your noble predecessor and glorious king saint edward?" the king shall answer, "i grant and promise." and when the king, before all the people, hath promised truly to grant and keep all the promises, then shall the said cardinal open unto him the special articles whereunto the king shall be sworn, the same cardinal saying as followeth: "ye shall keep, after your strength and power, to the church of god, to the clergie, and the people, whole peace, and goodly concord." the king shall answer, "i shall keep." "ye shall make to be done after your strength and power, equal and rightful justice in all your dooms and judgements, and discretion with mercy and truth." the king shall answer, "i shall do." "do ye grant the rightful laws and customs to be holden, and promise ye, after your strength and power, such laws as to the worship of god shall be chosen by your people by you to be strengthened and defended?" the king shall answer, "i grant and promise." [footnote : = revested.] [footnote : = £ in coin.] yeomen of the guard first brought in. the sweating sickness ( ). +source.+--holinshed's _chronicle_, vol. iii., p. . (london, .) shortly after for the better preservation of his royal person, he constituted and ordained a certain number as well of archers, as of divers other persons, hardy, strong, and active to give daily attendance on his person, whom he named yeomen of his guard, which precedent men thought that he learned of the french king when he was in france. for it is not remembered that any king of england before that day used any such furniture of daily soldiers. in this same year a kind of sickness invaded suddenly the people of this land, passing through the same from the one end to the other. it began about the one and twentieth of september, and continued until the latter end of october, being so sharp and deadly that the like was never heard of to any man's remembrance before that time. for suddenly a deadly burning sweat so assailed their bodies and distempered their blood with a most ardent heat, that scarce one amongst an hundred that sickened did escape with life; for all in manner as soon as the sweat took them, or within a short time after, yielded the ghost. beside the great number which deceased within the city of london, two mayors successively died within eight days and six aldermen. at length, by the diligent observation of those that escaped (which marking what things had done them good, and holpen to their deliverance, used the like again), when they fell into the same disease the second or third time as to divers it chanced, a remedy was found for that mortal malady which was this. if a man on the day time were taken with the sweat, then should he straight lie down with all his clothes and garments and continue in the sweat four and twenty hours after so moderate a sort as might be. if in night he chanced to be taken, then should he not rise out of his bed for the space of four and twenty hours, so casting the clothes that he might in no wise provoke the sweat, but lie so temperately that the water might distil out softly of its own accord. and to abstain from all meat if he might so long suffer hunger and to take no more drink neither hot nor cold than would moderately quench and assuage his thirsty appetite. thus with lukewarm drink, temperate heat and measurable clothes many escaped: few which used this order (after it was found out) died of that sweat. marry! one point diligently above all other in this cure is to be observed, that he never did put his hand or feet out of the bed to refresh or cool himself, which to do is no less jeopardy than short and present death. thus this disease coming in the first year of king henry's reign, was judged (of some) to be a token and sign of a troublesome reign of the same king, as the proof partly afterwards shewed itself. lambert simnel ( ). +source.+--holinshed's _chronicle_, vol. iii., p. . (london, .) amongst other such monsters and limbs of the devil, there was one sir richard simond, priest, a man of base birth and yet well learned, even from his youth. he had a scholar called lambert simnel, one of a gentle nature and pregnant wit, to be the organ and chief instrument by the which he might convey and bring to pass his mischievous attempt. the devil, chief master of such practices, put in the venomous brain of this disloyal and traitorous priest to devise how he might make his scholar the aforesaid lambert to be reputed as right inheritor to the crown of this realm. namely for that the fame went that king edward's children were not dead, but fled secretly into some strange place, and there to be living: and that edward, earl of warwick, son and heir to the duke of clarence, either was, or shortly should be put to death. these rumours though they seemed not to be grounded of any likehood to the wise sort of men, yet encouraged this peevish priest to think the time come that his scholar lambert might take upon him the person and name of one of king edward's children. and thereupon at oxford, where their abiding was, the said priest instructed his pupil both with princely behaviour, civil manners and good literature, declaring to him of what lineage he should affirm himself to be descended, and omitted nothing that might serve for his purpose. soon after, the rumour was blown abroad, that the earl of warwick was broken out of prison. and when the priest, sir richard simond heard of this, he straight intended now by that occasion to bring his invented purpose to pass, and changing the child's name of baptism, called him edward, after the name of the young earl of warwick, the which were both of like years and of like stature. then he with his scholar sailed into ireland, where he so set forth the matter unto the nobility of that country, that not only the lord thomas gerardine, chancellor of that land, deceived through his crafty tale, received the counterfeit earl into his castle with all honour and reverence, but also many other noble men determined to aid him (with all their powers) as one descended of the blood royal and lineage come of the house of york, which the irish people evermore highly favoured, honoured and loved above all other. by this mean every man throughout all ireland was willing and ready to take his part and submit themselves to him; already reputing and calling him of all hands king. so that now they of this sect (by the advice of the priest) sent into england certain privy messengers to get friends here. also they sent into flanders to the lady margaret, sister to king edward and late wife to charles, duke of burgoyne, to purchase, aid and help at her hands. this lady margaret bore no small rule in the low countries, and in very deed sore grudged in her heart that the king henry (being descended of the house of lancaster) should reign and govern of the realm of england, and therefore though she well understood that this was but a coloured matter, yet to work her malicious intention against king henry, she was glad to have so fit an occasion, and therefore promised the messengers all the aid that she should be able to make in furtherance of the quarrel, and also to procure all the friends she could in other places to be aiders and partakers of the same conspiracy. king henry, advertised of all these doings, was greatly vexed therewith, and therefore to have good advice in the matter he called together his council at the charterhouse beside his manor of richmond, and there consulted with them, by which means lest this begun conspiracy might be appeased and disappointed without more disturbance. it was therefore determined that a general pardon should be published to all offenders that were content to receive the same. this pardon was so freely granted that no offence was excepted, no not so much as high treason committed against the king's royal person. it was further agreed in the same council for the time then present that the earl of warwick should personally be shewed abroad in the city and other public places; whereby the untrue report falsely spread abroad that he should be in ireland, might be among the community proved and known for a vain imagined lie. when all things in this counsel were sagely concluded and agreed to the king's mind, he returned to london, giving in commandment that the next sunday ensuing, edward, the young earl of warwick, should be brought from the tower through the most public streets in all london, to the cathedral church of st. paul. where he went openly in procession, that every man might see him, having communication with many noble men and with them especially that were suspected to be partakers of the late begun conspiracy, that they might perceive how the irishmen upon a vain shadow moved war against the king and his realm. but this medicine little availed evil disposed persons. for the earl of lincoln, son to john de la poole, duke of suffolk, and elizabeth, sister to king edward the fourth thought it not meet to neglect and omit so ready an occasion of new trouble. wherefore they determined to uphold the enterprise of the irishmen, so that consulting with sir thomas broughton, and certain other of his most trusty friends, he proposed to sail into flanders to his aunt, the lady margaret, duchess of burgoyne, trusting by her help to make a puissant army and to join with the companions of the new raised sedition. therefore after the dissolution of the parliament which was then holden, he fled secretly into flanders unto the said lady margaret, where francis, lord lovell, landed certain days before. here, after long consultation as how to proceed in their business, it was agreed, that the earl of lincoln and the lord lovell should go into ireland, and there attend upon the duchess her counterfeit nephew, and to honour him as a king with the power of the irishmen to bring him into england. now they concluded, that if their doings had success, then the aforesaid lambert (misnamed the earl of warwick) should by consent of the council be deposed, and edward the true earl of warwick delivered out of prison and anointed king. king henry supposing that no man would have been so mad as to have attempted any further enterprise in the name of the new found and counterfeit earl, he only studied how to subdue the seditious conspiracy of the irishmen. but learning that the earl of lincoln was fled into flanders, he was somewhat moved therewith, and caused soldiers to be put in readiness out of every part of his realm, and to bring them into one place assigned, that when his adversaries should appear, he might suddenly set upon them, vanquish and overcome them. thus disposing things for his surety, he went towards st. edmund's bury, and being certified that the marquis of dorset was coming towards his majesty to excuse himself of things he was suspected to have done when he was in france, he sent the earl of oxford to arrest the said marquis by the way, and to convey him to the tower of london there to remain till his truth might be tried. from thence the king went forth to norwich and tarrying there christmas day, he departed after to walsingham, where he offered to the image of our lady, and then by cambridge he shortly returned to london. in which mean time, the earl of lincoln had gotten together by the aid of the lady margaret about two thousand almains, with one martin sward, a valiant and noble captain to lead them. with this power the earl of lincoln sailed into ireland and at the city of dublin caused young lambert to be proclaimed and named king of england, after the most solemn fashion, as though he were the very heir of the blood royal lineally born and descended. and so with a great multitude of beggarly irishmen almost all naked and unarmed, saving skins and mantles, of whom the lord thomas gerardine was captain and conductor, they sailed into england with this new found king and landed for a purpose at the pile of fowdreie, within a little of lancaster, trusting there to find aid by the means of sir thomas broughton, one of the chief companions of the conspiracy. the king had knowledge of the enemies' intent before their arrival, and therefore having assembled a great army (over which the duke of bedford and the earl of oxenford were chief captains), he went to coventry where he was advertised that the earl of lincoln was landed at lancaster with his new king. here he took advice of his counsellors what was best to be done, whether to set on the enemies without further delay or to protract time a little. but at length it was thought best to delay no time but to give them battle before they should increase their power, and thereupon he removed to nottingham, and there by a little wood called bowres he pitched his field. shortly after this came to him the lord george talbot, earl of shrewsbury, the lord strange, sir john cheyne, right valiant captains, with many other noble and expert men of war, namely of the counties near adjoining, so that the king's army was wonderfully increased. in this space the earl of lincoln being entered into yorkshire passed softly on his journey without spoiling or hurting any man, trusting thereby to have some company of people resort unto him. but after he perceived few or none to follow him, and that it was too late now to return back, he determined to try the matter by dint of sword, and thereupon direct his way from york to newark-upon-trent. benevolences ( ). +source.+--holinshed, vol. iii., p. . king henry, sorely troubled in his mind therewith, determining no more with peaceable message, but with open war to determine all controversies betwixt him and the french king, called his high court of parliament and there declared the cause why he was justly provoked to make war against the frenchmen, and thereupon desired them of their benevolent aid of men and money towards the maintenance thereof. the cause was so just that every man allowed it and to the setting forth of the war taken in hand for so necessary an occasion, every man promised his helping hand. the king commended them for their true and faithful hearts. and to the intent that he might spare the poorer sort of the commons (whom he ever desired to keep in favour) he thought good first to exact money of the richest sort by way of a benevolence. which kind of levying money was first devised by king edward the fourth, as it appeareth before in his history. king henry, following the like example, published abroad that by their open gifts he would measure and search their benevolent hearts and good minds towards him, and he that gave little to be esteemed according to his gift. by this it appeareth that whatsoever is practised for the prince's profit and brought to a precedent by matter of record, may be turned to the great prejudice of the people, if rulers in authority will so adjudge and determine it. but by this means king henry got innumerable great sums of money, with some grudge of the people, for the extremity shewed by the commissioners in divers places. the rebellion of the cornishmen ( ). +source.+--holinshed, vol. iii, p. . these unruly people, the cornishmen, inhabiting in a barren country and unfruitful, at the first sore repined that they should be so grievously taxed and burdened by the king's council as the only cause of such polling and pilling, and so being in their rage, menaced the chief authors with death and present destruction. and thus being in a rave, two persons of the affinity, the one called thomas flammock, a gentleman, learned in the laws of the realm, and the other michael joseph, a smith, men of stout stomachs and high courage, took upon them to be captains of this seditious company. they laid the fault and cause of this exaction unto john morton, archbishop of canterbury, and to sir reginald bray, because they were chief of the king's council. such reward have they commonly that be in great authority with kings and princes. the captains flammock and joseph exhorted the common people to put on harness and not be afeared to follow them in that quarrel, promising not to hurt any creature, but only to see them punished that procured such exactions to be laid on the people, without any reasonable cause, as under the colour of a little trouble with the scots, which (since they were withdrawn home) they took to be well quieted and appeased. so these captains, bent on mischief (were their outward pretence never so finely coloured), yet persuaded a great number of people to assemble together and condescend to do as their captains would agree and appoint. then these captains praising much the hardiness of the people, when all things were ready for their important journey, set forth with their army and came to taunton, where they slew the provost of perin, which was one of the commissioners of the subsidy, and from thence came to wells, so intending to go to london, where the king then sojourned. when the king was advertised of these doings, he was somewhat astonished, and not without cause, being thus troubled with the war against the scots and this civil commotion of his subjects at one instant. but first meaning to subdue his rebellious subjects and after to proceed against the scots, as occasion should serve, he revoked the lord daubeney which (as you have heard) was going against the scots, and increased his army with many chosen and picked warriors. also mistrusting that the scots might now (having such opportunity) invade the realm again, he appointed the lord thomas howard, earl of surrey (which after the death of the lord dinham was made high treasurer of england) to gather a band of men in the county palatine of durham, that they, with the aid of the inhabitants adjoining and the borderers, might keep back the scots if they chanced to make any invasion. the nobles of the realm, hearing of the rebellion of the cornishmen, came to london every man with as many men of war as they could put in a readiness to aid the king if need should be. in the which number were the earl of essex and the lord montjoy, with divers other. in the meantime, james twitchet, lord audely being confederate with the rebels of cornwall, joined with them, being come to wells, and took upon him as their chief captain to lead them against the natural lord and king. from wells they went to salisbury, and from thence to winchester, and so to kent where they hoped to have had great aid, but they were deceived in that their expectation. for the earl of kent, george, lord of abergavenny, john brook, lord cobham, sir edward poinings, sir richard gilford, sir thomas bourchier, john peche, william scot, and a great number of people, were not only prest and ready to defend the country to keep the people in due obedience, but bent to fight with such as would lift up sword or other weapon against their sovereign lord, insomuch that the kentishmen would not once come near the cornishmen to aid or assist them in any manner or wise. which thing marvellously dismayed the hearts of the cornishmen when they saw themselves thus deceived of the succours which they most trusted upon, so that many of them (fearing the evil chance that might happen) fled in the night from their company and left them, in hope so to save themselves. the captains of the rebels, perceiving they could have no help of the kentishmen, putting their only hope in their own puissance, brought their people to blackheath, a four miles distant from london, and there in a plain on the top of an hill they ordered their battles either ready to fight with the king if he would assail them, or else assault the city of london; for they thought the king durst not have encountered with them in battle. but they were deceived, for the king, although he had power enough about to have fought with them before their coming so near to the city, yet he thought it best to suffer them to come forward, till he had them far off from their native country, and then to set upon them being destitute of aid of some place of advantage. the city was in a great fear at the first knowledge given how the rebels were so near encamped to the city, every man getting himself to harness and placing themselves some at the gates some on the walls, so that no part was undefended. but the king delivered the city of that fear; for after that he perceived how the cornishmen were all day ready to fight and that on the hill, he sent straight to john, earl of oxenford, henry bourchier, earl of essex, edmund de la poole, earl of suffolk, sir rise ap thomas, and sir humphrey stanley, noble warriors with a great company of archers and horsemen, to environ the hill on the right side, and on the left, to the intent that all byways being stopped and foreclosed, all hope of flight should be taken from them. and incontinently he himself, being as well encouraged with manly stomachs as furnished with a populous army and plenty of artillery, set forward out of the city, and encamped himself in saint george's field, where he on the friday at night then lodged. on the saturday in the morning, he sent the lord daubeney with a great company to set on them early in the morning, which first got the bridge at dertford strand, which was manfully defended by certain archers of the rebels, whose arrows (as is reported) were in length a full cloth yard. while the earls set on them on every side, the lord daubeney came into the field with his company, and without long fighting the cornishmen were overcome; and first they took the lord daubeney prisoner, but whether it were for fear or for hope of favour, they let him go at liberty without hurt or detriment. there were slain of the rebels which fought and resisted, above two thousand men (as edward hall noteth), and taken prisoners an infinite number, and amongst them the blacksmith and other the chief captains, which were shortly after put to death. when this battle was ended, the king wanted of all his numbers but three hundred which were slain at that conflict. some affirm, that the king appointed to have fought with them not till the monday and preventing the time set on them on the saturday before, taking them unprovided and in no array of battle, and so by that policy obtained the field and victory. the prisoners as well as captains and others were pardoned, saving the chief captains and first beginners, to whom he shewed no mercy at all. the lord audley was drawn from newgate to tower hill in a coat of his own arms painted upon paper reversed and all torn, and there was beheaded the four and twentieth of june. thomas flammock and michael joseph were hanged, drawn and quartered after the manner of traitors, and their heads and quarters were pitched upon stakes and set up in london and in other places, although at the first the king meant to have sent them into cornwall to have been set up there for a terror to all others. but hearing that the cornishmen at home were ready to begin a new conspiracy, lest he should the more irritate and provoke them by that displeasant sight, he changed his purpose, for doubt to wrap himself in more trouble than needed. perkin warbeck's confession ( ). +source.+--holinshed, vol. iii., p. . the confession of perkin as it was written with his own hand, which he read openly upon a scaffold by the standard in cheape. "it is first to be known that i was born in the town of turney in flanders, and my father's name is john osbeck, which said john osbeck was controller of the said town of turney, and my mother's name is katherine de faro. and one of my grandsires upon my father's side was named diricke osbecke, which died. after whose death my grandmother was married unto peter flamin, that was receiver of the forenamed town of turney and dean of the boatmen that row upon the water or river called the schelt. and my grandsire upon my mother's side was peter de faro, which had in his keeping the keys of the gate of st. john's within the same town of turney. also i had an uncle called master john stalin, dwelling in the parish of st. pias within the same town which had married my father's sister whose name was johne jane with whom i dwelt a certain season. and after, i was led by my mother to antwerp for to learne flemish in a house of a cousin of mine, an officer of the said town called john stienbeck, with whom i was the space of half a year. and after that i returned again to turney by reason of wars that were in flanders. and within a year following i was sent with a merchant of the said town of turney named berlo, to the mart of antwerp where i fell sick, which sickness continued upon me five months. and then the said berlo sent me to board in a skinner's house that dwelled beside the house of the english nation. and by him i was from thence carried to barrow mart and i lodged at the 'sign of the old man' where i abode for the space of two months. "after this the said berlo sent me with a merchant of middlesborough to service for to learn the language, whose name was john strew, with whom i dwelt from christmas to easter, and then i went into portugal in company of sir edward brampton's wife in a ship which was called the queen's ship. and when i was come thither, then was i put in service to a knight that dwelled in lushborne, which was called peter vacz de cogna, with whom i dwelt an whole year, which said knight had but one eye. and because i desired to see other countries i took licence of him and then i put myself in service with a breton called pregent meno, who brought me with him into ireland. now when we were there arrived in the town of cork, they of the town (because i was arrayed with some cloths of silk of my said master's) came unto me and threatened upon me that i should be the duke of clarence's son that was before time at dublin. "but forasmuch as i denied it, there was brought unto me the holy evangelists and the cross, by the mayor of the town which was called john llellewyn, and there in the presence of him and others i took mine oath (as the truth was) that i was not the foresaid duke's son, nor none of his blood. and after this came unto me an english man whose name was stephen poitron and one john water, and said to me, in swearing great oaths, that they knew well that i was king richard's bastard son, to whom i answered with like oaths that i was not. then they advised me not to be afeared but that i should take it upon me boldly, and if i would do so they would aid and assist me with all their power against the king of england, and not only they, but they were well assured that the earl of desmond and kildare should do the same. "for they forced not[ ] what they took, so that they might be revenged on the king of england, and so against my will made me learn english and taught me what i should do and say. and after this they called me the duke of york, second son to king edward the fourth, because king richard's bastard son was in the hands of the king of england. and upon this the said water, stephen poitron, john tiler, hughbert burgh with many others, as the aforesaid earls, entered into this false quarrel, and within short time others. the french king sent an ambassador into ireland whose name was loit lucas and master stephen friham to advertise me to come into france. and thence i went into france and from thence into flanders, and from flanders into ireland, and from ireland into scotland, and so into england." [footnote : = cared not.] reception of princess catharine ( ). +source.+--_paston letters_, vol. iii., letter . march th, a.d. henry vii. to sir john paston. _to our trusty and well beloved knight sir john paston._ by the king. "trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well, letting you know that our dearest cousins, the king and queen of spain, have signified unto us by their sundry letters that the right excellent princesse the lady catharine, their daughter, shall be transported from the parties of spain aforesaid to this our realm, about the month of may next coming, for the solemnization of matrimony between our dearest son the prince and the said princess. wherefore we, considering that it is right fitting and necessary, as well for the honour of us as for the honour and praise of our said realm, to have the said princess honourably received at her arrival, have appointed you to be one among others to give attendance for the receiving of the said princess; willing and desiring you to prepare yourself for that intent, and so to continue in readiness upon an hour's warning, till that by our other letters we shall advertise you of the day and time of her arrival, and where ye shall give your said attendance; and not to fail therein as ye tender our pleasure, the honour of yourself and this our foresaid realm. "given under our signet at our manor of richmond, the xxth day of march." cardinal morton's fork ( ). +source.+--holinshed, p. . the clergy was of two sorts, the one shewing themselves as they were wealthy, seemly and comely; the other pretending that which was not, poverty, bareness and scarcity, but both were of one mind, and devised all the ways they could to save their purses. the first being called alledged that they were daily at great charges and expenses in keeping of hospitalities, in maintaining themselves, their house and families, besides extraordinaries which daily did grow and increase upon them, and by that means they were but bare and poor, and prayed that they be borne with all and pardoned for that time. the other sort alledged that their livings were but small and slender and scarce able to maintain themselves with all which compelled them to go bare and to live a hard and poor life, and therefore (they having nothing) prayed that they might be excused. the bishop when he heard them at full and well considered thereof, very wittily and with a pretty dilemma answered them both, saying to the first: "it is true you are at great charges, are well beseen in your apparell, well mounted upon your fair palfreys and have your men waiting upon you in good order; your hospitality is good and your daily expenses are large, and you are for the same well reported amongst your neighbours; all which are plain demonstrations of your wealth and ability, otherwise you would not be at such voluntary charges. now having store to spend in such order, there is no reason but that to your prince you should much more be well willing and ready to yield yourselves contributory and dutiful, and therefore you must pay." to the other sort he said: "albeit your livings be not of the best, yet good, sufficient, and able to maintain you in better estate than you do employ it, but it appeareth that you are frugual and thrifty men, and what others do voluntarily spend in apparell, house and family, you warily do keep and have it lie by you; and therefore it is good reason that of your store you should spare with a good will and contribute to your prince, wherefore be contented, for you shall pay." and so by this pretty dilemma he reduced them to yield a good payment to the king. the meeting of henry vii. and the king of castile ( ). william makefyn to darcy and alington. +source.+--_paston letters_, vol. iii., letter . jan. th, . _to the right worshipful master roger darcy and master giles alington, being in the george in lombard street, be this delivered in haste._ right worshipful masters, i recommend me unto you, certifying you that the king's grace and the king of castile met this day at three of the clock, upon cleworth green, miles out of windsor, and that the king received him in the goodliest manner that ever i saw, and each of them embraced the other in arms. to shew you the king's apparell of england, thus it was: his horse of bay, trapped with neddlework; a gown of purple velvet, a chain with a george[ ] of diamonds, and a hood of purple velvet, which he put not off at the meeting of the said king of castile; his hat and his bonnet he doffed and the king of castile likewise. and the king of castile rode upon a sorrel hoby,[ ] which the king gave unto him; his apparell was all black, a gown of black velvet, a black hood, a black hat, and his horse harness of black velvet.... these be the spears: master saint john upon a black horse, with harness of cloth of gold, with tassels of plunkett[ ] and white, a coat of plunkett and white, the body of goldsmiths' work, the sleves full of spangles. john carr and william parr with coats alike, the horses gray, of parr trapped with crimson velvet with tassells of gold and gilt bells. carr's horse bay with an almayn harness of silver, an inch broad of beaten silver, both the coats of goldsmiths' work on the bodies, the sleeves one stripe of silver, the other of gold. edward neville upon a gray horse trapped with black velvet full of small bells, his coat the one half of green velvet, the other of white cloth of gold; these to the rutters of the spurs, with other divers well appointed. of the king of castile's party, the lord chamberlain the chief, i cannot tell his name as yet; his apparell was sad, and so was all the residue of his company with cloaks of sad tawny black, guarded, some with velvet, some with sarsenet, not passing a dozen in number. it is said there is many behind which comes with the queen of castile, which shall come upon tuesday. when the king rode forth to windsor castle, the king rode upon the right hand of the king of castile, howbeit the king's grace offered to take him upon the right hand, the which he refused. and at the lighting the king of castile was off his horse a good space or our king was alight; and then the king's grace offered to take him by the arm, the which he would not, but took the king by the arm, and so went to the king of castile's chamber, which is the richestly hanged that ever i saw: chambers together hanged with cloth of arras, wrought with gold as thick as could be; and as for three beds of estate, no king christened can shew such three. this is so far as i can shew you of this day, and when i can know more, ye shall have knowledge. from windsor this saturday, at five of the clock, by your, william makefyn. [footnote : = figure of st. george, _i.e._ part of the insignia of the garter.] [footnote : = horse.] [footnote : = lead green.] superstition ( ). +source.+--erasmus, _the praise of folly_, p. . . hamilton adams, glasgow. the next to be placed among the regiment of fools are such as make a trade of telling or inquiring after incredible stories of miracles and prodigies. never doubting that a lie will choke them, they will muster up a thousand several strange relations of spirits, ghosts, apparitions, raising of the devil, and such like bugbears of superstition, which the farther they are from being probably true, the more greedily they are swallowed, and the more devoutly believed. and those diversities do not only bring an empty pleasure, and cheap divertisement, but they are a good trade, and procure a comfortable income to such priests and friars as by this craft get their gain. to these again are related such others as attribute strange virtues to the shrines and images of saints and martyrs, and so would make their credulous proselytes believe, that if they pay their devotion to st. christopher in the morning, they shall be guarded and secured the day following from all dangers and misfortunes. if soldiers when they first take arms, shall come and mumble over such a set prayer before the picture of st. barbara, they shall return safe from all engagements. or if any pray to erasmus on such particular holidays, with the ceremony of wax candles, and other poperies, he shall in a short time be rewarded with a plentiful increase of wealth and riches. the christians have now their gigantic st. george, as well as the pagans have their hercules: they paint the saint on horseback, and drawing the horse in splendid trappings, very gloriously accoutred, they scarce refrain in a literal sense from worshipping the very beast. what shall i say of such as cry up and maintain the cheat of pardons and indulgences? that by these compute the time of each soul's residence in purgatory, and assign them a longer and shorter continuance, according as they purchase more or fewer of these paltry pardons and saleable exemptions? or what can be said bad enough of others, who pretend that by the force of such magical charms, or by the fumbling over their beads in the rehearsal of such and such petitions, which some religious impostors invented, either for diversion or what is more likely for advantage; they shall procure riches, honour, pleasure, health, long life, and lusty old age, nay, after death a sitting at the right hand of our saviour in his kingdom. though as to this last part of their happiness, they care not how long it be deferred, having scarce any appetite towards a tasting the joys of heaven; till they are surfeited, glutted with, and can no longer relish their enjoyments on earth. by this easy way of purchasing pardons, any notorious highwayman, any plundering soldier, or any bribe-taking judge, shall disburse some part of their unjust gains, and so think all their grossest impieties sufficiently atoned for. so many perjuries, lusts, drunkeness, quarrels, bloodsheds, cheats, treacheries, and all sorts of debaucheries, shall all be as it were, struck a bargain for, and such a contract made, as if they had paid off all arrears and might now begin upon a new score. and what can be more ridiculous, than for some others to be confident of going to heaven by repeating daily those seven verses out of the psalms which the devil taught st. bernard, thinking thereby to have put a trick on him, but that he was overreached in his cunning. and of all the prayers and intercessions that are made to these respective saints the substance of them is no more than downright folly. among all the trophies that for tokens of gratitude are hung upon the walls and ceilings of churches, you shall find no relics presented as a memorandum of any that were ever cured of folly or had been made one dram the wiser. almost all christians being wretchedly enslaved to blindness and ignorance, which the priests are so far from preventing or removing, that they blacken the darkness, and promote delusion. wisely forseeing that the people, like cows, which never give down their milk so well as when they are gently stroked, would part with less if they knew more, their bounty only proceeding from a mistake of charity. now if any wise man should stand up, and unseasonably speak the truth, telling everyone that a pious life is the only way of securing a happy death; that the best title to a pardon of our sins is purchased by a hearty abhorrence of our guilt, and sincere resolutions of amendment; that the best devotion that can be paid to any saints is to imitate them in their exemplary life. if he should proceed thus to inform them of their several mistakes, there would be quite another estimate put upon tears, watchings, masses, fastings, and other severities, which before were so much prized, as persons will now be vexed to lose that satisfaction formerly they found in them. the making of beggars and thieves ( ). +source.+--sir thomas more, _the first booke of utopia_, . cambridge press, p. , l. . but let us consider those things that chance daily before our eyes. first, there is a great number of gentlemen, which cannot be content to live idle by themselves, like drones, of that which others have laboured for; their tenants i mean, whom they poll and shave to the quick, by raising their rents (for this only point of frugality do they use, men else through their lavish and prodigal spending likely to bring them to very beggary). these gentlemen, i say, do not only live in idleness themselves, but also carry about with them at their tails a great flock or train of idle and loitering serving men, which never learned any craft whereby to get their livings. these men as soon as their master is dead, or be sick themselves, be incontinent thrust out of doors. for gentlemen had rather keep idle persons, than sick men, and many times the dead man's heir is not able to maintain so great a house, and keep so many serving men as his father did. then in the mean season they that be thus destitute of service, either starve for hunger, or manfully play the thieves. for what would you have them to do? when they have wandered abroad so long, until they have worn threadbare their apparell, and also appaired their health, these gentlemen, because of their pale and sickly faces, and patched coats, will not take them into service. and husbandmen dare not set them a work, knowing well enough that he is nothing meet to do true and faithful service to a poor man with a spade and a mattock for small wages and hard fare, which being daintily and tenderly pampered up in idleness and pleasure, was wont with a sword and buckler by his side to strut through the street with a bragging look, and to think himself too good to be any man's mate. nay, by saint mary, sir (quod the lawyer), not so. for this kind of men must we make most of. for in them as men of stouter stomachs, bolder spirits, and manlier courages than handycraftsmen and plowmen be, doth consist the whole power, strength, and puisance of our army, when we must fight in battle. forsooth, sir, as well you might say (quod i) that for war's sake you must cherish thieves. for surely you shall never lack thieves, while you have them. no, nor thieves be not the most false and faint-hearted soldiers, nor soldiers be not the cowardliest thieves: so well these two crafts agree together. but this fault, though it be much used among you, yet is it not peculiar to you only, but common also to most nations. yet france, besides this, is troubled and infected with a much sorer plague. the whole realm is filled and besieged with hired soldiers in peace time (if that be peace) which be brought in under the same colour and pretence, that hath persuaded you to keep these idle serving men. for these wise fools and very archdolts thought the wealth of the whole country herein to consist, if there were ever in a readiness a strong and sure garrison, specially of old practised soldiers, for they put no trust at all in men unexercised. and therefore they must be forced to seek for war, to the end they may ever have practised soldiers and cunning manslayers, lest that (as it is prettily said of sallust) their hands through idleness or lack of exercise should wax dull; but how pernicious and pestilent a thing it is to maintain such beasts, the frenchmen by their own harms have learnt. for not only the kingdom but also their fields and cities by divers occasions have been overrunned and destroyed by their own armies beforehand had in a readiness. now how unnecessary a thing this is, hereby it may appear that the french soldiers, which from their youth have been practised and inured in feates of arms, do not crack nor advance themselves to have very often got the upper hand and mastery of your new made and unpractised soldiers. but in this point i will not use many words, lest perchance i may seem to flatter you. yet this is not only the necessary cause of stealing. there is another, which, as i suppose, is proper and peculiar to you englishmen alone. your sheep that were wont to be so meek and tame, and so small eaters, now, as i hear say, be become so great devourers and so wild, that they eat up, and swallow down the very men themselves. they consume, destroy, and devour whole fields, houses and cities. for look in what parts of the realm doth grow the finest and therefore dearest wool, these noblemen and gentlemen, yea, and certain abbots, holy men no doubt, not contenting themselves with the yearly revenues and profits, that were wont to grow to their forefathers and predecessors of their lands, nor being content that they live in rest and pleasure nothing profiting, yea, much annoying the weal public, leave no ground for tillage, they enclose all into pastures; they throw down houses; they pluck down towns, and leave nothing standing, but only the church to be made a sheep house. and as though you lost no small quantity of ground by forests, chases, lands and parks, those good holy men turn all dwelling places and all glebeland into desolation and wilderness. therefore that one covetous and insatiable cormorant may compass about and enclose many thousand acres of ground together within one pale or hedge, the husbandmen be thrust out of their own, or else either by coveyn[ ] and fraud or by violent oppression they be put besides it, or by wrongs and injuries they be so wearied, that they be compelled to sell all; by one means therefore or by other, either by hooke or crooke they must needs depart away, poor, silly, wretched souls, men, women, husbands, wives, fatherless children, widows, woful mothers, with their young babes, and their whole household small in substance and much in number, as husbandry requireth many hands. away they trudge, i say, out of their known and accustomed houses, finding no place to rest in. all their household stuff, which is very little worth, though it might well abide the sale; yet being suddenly thrust out, they be constrained to sell it for a thing of nought. and when they have wandered abroad till that be spent, what can they else do but steal, and then justly pardy[ ]! be hanged, or else go about a begging. and yet then also they be cast in prison as vagabonds, because they go about and work not: whom no man will set at work, though they never so willingly profer themselves thereto. for one shepherd or herdman is enough to eat up that ground with cattle, to the occupying whereof about husbandry many hands were requisite. and this is also the cause why victuals be now in many places dearer. yea, besides this the price of wool is so risen, that poor folks, which were wont to work it and make cloth thereof, be now able to buy none at all. and by this means very many be forced to forsake work, and to give themselves to idleness. for after that so much ground was inclosed for pasture, an infinite number of sheep died from the rot, such vengeance god took of their inordinate, unsatiable covetousness, sending among the sheep that pestiferous murrain, which much more justly should have fallen on the sheep masters own heads. and though the number of sheep increase never so fast, yet the price falleth not one mite, for there be so few sellers. for they be almost all come into a few rich mens hands, whom no need forceth to sell before they lust, they lust not before they may sell as dear as they lust. now the same cause bringeth in like dearth of the other kinds of cattle, yea and that so much the more, because that after farms plucked down and husbandry decayed, there is no man that passeth for the breeding of young store. for these men bring not up the young of great cattle as they do lambs. but first they buy them abroad very cheap, and afterward, when they be fatted in their pastures, they sell them again exceeding dear. and therefore, i suppose, the whole incommodity hereof is not yet felt. for yet they make dearth only in those places where they sell. but when they shall fetch them away from thence where they be bred faster than they can be brought up; then shall there also be felt great dearth, store beginning then to fail, when the ware is bought. thus the unreasonable covetousness of a few hath turned that thing to the utter undoing of your land, in the which thing the chief felicity of your realm did consist. for this great dearth of victuals causes men to keep as little houses and as small hospitality as they possible may, and to put away their servants: whither, i pray you, but a begging: or else (which these gentle bloods and stout stomachs will sooner set their minds unto) a stealing? [footnote : = conspiracy.] [footnote : = pardieu.] enclosures ( ) +source.+--holinshed, p. . about this time the king having regard to the common wealth of his realm, considered how for the space of fifty years past and more, the nobles and gentlemen of england had been given to grazing of cattle, and keeping of sheep, and inventing a means how to increase their yearly revenues, to the great decaying and undoing of husbandmen of the land. for the said nobles and gentlemen, after the manner of the numidians, more studying how to increase their pastures, than to maintain tillage, began to decay husband tacks[ ] and tenements, and to convert arable land into pasture, furnishing the same with beasts and sheep, and also deer, so inclosing the field with hedges, ditches, and pales, which they held in their own hands, ingrossing[ ] wools, and selling the same, and also sheep and beasts at their own prices, and as might stand most with their own private commodity. hereof a threefold evil chanced to the commonwealth, as polydore noteth. one, for that thereby the number of husbandmen was sore diminished, the which the prince useth chiefly in his service for the wars: another for that many towns and villages were left desolate and became ruinous: the third, for that both wool and cloth made thereof, and the flesh of all manner of beasts used to be eaten, was sold at far higher prices than was accustomed. these enormities at the first beginning being not redressed, grew in short space to such force and vigour by evil custom, that afterwards they gathered to such an united force, that hardly they could be remedied. much like a disease, which in the beginning with little pain to the patient, and less labour to the surgeon may be cured; whereas the same by delay and negligence being suffered to putrify, becometh a desperate sore, and then are medicines nothing available, and not to be applied. the king therefore causing such good statutes as had been devised and established for reformation in this behalf to be reviewed and called upon, took order by directing forth his commissions unto the justices of peace, and other such magistrates, that presentment should be had and made of all such inclosures, and decay of husbandry, as had chanced within the space of fifty years before that present time. the justices and other magistrates, according to their commission, executed the same. and so commandment was given, that the decayed houses should be built up again, that the husbandmen should be placed eftsoones in the same, and that inclosed grounds should be laid open, and sore punishment appointed against them that disobeyed. these so good and wholesome ordinances shortly after were defeated by means of bribes given unto the cardinal: for when the nobles and gentlemen which had for their pleasures imparted the common fields, were loath to have the same again disparked, they redeemed their vexation with good sums of money; and so had licence to keep their parks and grounds inclosed as before. thus the great expectation which men had conceived of a general redress, proved void: howbeit, some profit the husbandmen in some parts of the realm got by the moving of this matter, where inclosures were already laid open, ere mistress money could prevent them; and so they enjoyed their commons, which before had been taken from them. [footnote : = rented farms.] [footnote : = "cornering."] visit of charles v. to england ( ). +source.+--_rutland papers_ (camden society), p. . _remembrances as touching the emperor's coming._ first, the certainty to be known how many messes[ ] of meat shall be ordered for the emperor and his nobles at the king's charge; viii messes, x messes more or less? item, how many of these messes shall be served as noblemen, and how many otherwise. item, how many messes of meat shall be served for my lord cardinal and his chamber at the king's charge; v or vi more or less? or whether his grace will be contented with a certainty of money by the day to his diet, and cause his own officers to make provision for the same, and to serve it. item, whether the emperor and his nobles shall be served with his own diaper,[ ] or else with the king's? the emperor and his court with the king's.[ ] item, whether the emperor shall be served with his own silver vessels, or else with the king's? at dover with the king's.[ ] item, how many of the emperors carriages shall be at the king's charge, and whether any parcell of the king's carriage shall be at the king's charge or us? item, whether any of the great officers, as my lord steward, master treasurer, or master comptroller, shall give attendance upon the emperor at dover or not? item, whether there shall be any banquetting, and in what places? at[ ] greenwich, london, richmond, and windsor. item, placards to be had for the purveyors of the poultry and others. item, letters to be directed to the lords both spiritual and temporal, for fishing of their ponds for dainties. item, a warrant to be had and directed to master micklow for ready money. item, to know whether the king's grace will have any of his sergeant officers to attend upon the emperor, or yeomen for his mouth daily or not? wines laid in divers places for the king and the emperor between dover and london. dover ii days. {gascon wine. iii dolia[ ] {rhenish wine. i vat[ ] of ii alnes.[ ] canterbury iiii days. {gascon wine. iii dolia. {rhenish wine. ii vats of v alnes. sittingbourne i day. {gascon wine. i dolium. {rhenish wine. demy vat. rochester ii meals. {gascon wine. i dolium. {rhenish wine. demy vat. gravesend and upon {gascon wine. i dolium. thames ii meals. {rhenish wine. demy vat. greenwich iiii meals. {gascon wine. } plenty. {rhenish wine.} to blackfriars in {gascon wine. viii dolium. london viii meals. {rhenish wine. iii vats of vi alnes. richmond x meals. {gascon wine. } plenty. {rhenish wine.} hampton court. {gascon wine. {rhenish wine. windsor. {gascon wine. } plenty. {rhenish wine.} _remembrances for my lord mayor of london._ first, to assign iiii bakers within the city of london to serve the noblemen belonging to the emperor that be lodged in the canons' houses of paules and their abbots and other places within the city. item, to assign the king's wax chandler to serve them of torches. item, to assign a tallow chandler for white lights. item, to assign iiii butchers for serving of oxen, sheep, calves, hogges of gresse,[ ] flitches of bacon, marrow bones, and such other as shall be called for. item, to assign ii fishmongers for provision of lynges to be ready watered, pikes, tenches, breams, caller salmon, and such other dainties of the fresh water. item, to appoint ii fishmongers for provision of sea-fish. item, to appoint iiii poulterers to serve for the said persons of all manner poultry. item, to provide into every lodging wood, coal, rushes, straw, and such other necessaries. item, it is requested that there may be always two carpenters in readiness to furnish every place with such things as shall be thought good, as cupboards, forms, boards, trestles, bedsteads, with other necessaries, where lack shall be. item, to see every lodging furnished with pewter dishes, and saucers as shall be thought sufficient. item, to furnish every house with all manner kitchen stuff, if there be any lack of such like within any of the said houses, as broches[ ] of diverse sorts, pots and pans, ladles, skimmers, gridirons, with such other stuff as shall be named by the officers of the said noblemen. item, appoint ii men to serve all manner of sauces for every lodging. item, to appoint ii tallow chandlers to serve for all manner of sauces. item, to warn every owner of the house to put all their stuff of household in every office against their coming to be in a readiness. item, the king's grocers to be appointed to serve in all manner of spices. bill of fare for the ordinary dieting of the emperor's attendants per diem. ccviii noblemen and gentlemen, by estimation every of them to have a mess full furnished of this fare as followeth. _ccviii messes._ _the first course for dinner._ _the first course supper._ potage. potage. boiled capon. xxxiiii-dd viii. chickens boiled. lxix-dd. young veal. xxxii. legges of mutton. xxi. grene[ ] gese. lxix-dd iiii. capons. xxxiiii-dd vi. kid or lamb. ciiii. kid or lamb. ciiii. custards. ccviii. dowcettes.[ ] fruttour.[ ] ccviii messes. _the second course._ _the second course._ jussell.[ ] jelly ipocras.[ ] chickens. cxxxviii-dd viiii. peacocks. cxxxviii-dd viii. peacocks. cxxxviii-dd viii chickens. cxxxviii-dd viii. rabbits. cxxxviii-dd viii. rabbits. cxxxviii-dd viii. tarts. cc. tarts. ccviii. [footnote : a sufficient quantity of provisions for four persons.] [footnote : linen.] [footnote : = the answer to the question in the original written in the margin.] [footnote : = the answer to the question in the original written in the margin.] [footnote : = cask.] [footnote : vat = about gallons.] [footnote : alne = ell: _i.e._ inches. this refers to the dimensions of the barrel.] [footnote : = fat hogs.] [footnote : = spits.] [footnote : = goslings.] [footnote : a compôte of fruit.] [footnote : = pasties.] [footnote : the recipe for jussell was "grated bread, eggs, sage, saffron and good broth."] [footnote : a kind of sweet wine.] cardinal wolsey ( ). "why come ye not to courte." +source.+--john skelton, _chalmers' works of the english poets_. london, . vol. ii., p. . once yet again of you i would frayne,[ ] why come ye not to court? to which court? to the king's court? or to hampton court: the king's court should have the excellence; but hampton court hath the preeminence, and yorkes place,[ ] with my lord's grace, to whose magnificence is all the confluence, suits and supplications, embassies of all nations. be it sour or be it sweet his wisdom is so discreet, that in a fume or an heat-- "warden of the fleet, set him fast by the feet!" and of his royal power when him list to lower, then, "have him in the tower, [ ]'saunz aulter' remedy! have him for the by and by [ ]to the marshalsea, or to the king's bench!" he diggeth so in the trench of the court royal, that he ruleth them all. so he doth undermine and such sleights doth find, that the king's mind by him is subverted, and so straightly cöarted[ ] in credensynge his tales, that all is but nutshells that any other saith; he hath in him such faith. and, yet all this might be, suffered and taken in gre[ ] if that that he wrought to any good end were brought: but all he bringeth to nought, by god, that me dear bought! he beareth the king on hand, that he must pull his land, to make his coffers rich. but he layeth all in the ditch and useth such abusion that in the conclusion he cometh to confusion, perceive the cause why, to tell the truth plainly he is so ambitious and so superstitious and so much oblivious from whence that he came, that he falleth into a "caeciam"[ ] which, truly to express, is a forgetfulness or wilful blindness. "a caecitate cordis," in the latin sing we, "libera nos, domine!" but this mad amalecke like to a mamelek, he regardeth lordes, no more than potsherdes,[ ] he is in such elation of his exaltation, and the supportation of our sovereign lord, that, god to record, he ruleth all at will without reason or skill, how be it the primordial of his wretched original, and his base progeny, and his greasy genealogy, he came of the sank[ ] royal, that was cast out of a butcher's stall. but however he was borne, they would have the less scorn, if he could consider his birth and room together, and call to his mind how noble and how kind to him he hath found, our sovereign lord, chief ground of all this prelacy and set him nobly in great authority, out from a low degree which he cannot see. for he was, parde![ ] nor doctor of divinity, nor doctor of the law, nor of none other saw;[ ] but a poore master of arte, god wot, had little parte of the quatrivials,[ ] nor yet of trivials,[ ] nor of philosophy, nor of philology, nor of good policy, nor of astronomy, nor acquainted worth a fly with honourable italy, nor with royal ptholomy, nor with albumasar to treate of any star fixed or else mobile; his latin tongue doth hobble, he doth but clout and cobble in tully's faculty called humanity; yet proudly he dare pretend how no man can him amend but have ye not heard this, how an one-eyed man is well sighted when he is among blind men? [ ]than our process for to stable, this man was full unable to reach to such degree, had not our prince be royal henry the eight, take him in such conceit, that to set him on sight in exemplifying great alexander the king in writing as we find; which of his royal mind, and of his noble pleasure, transcending out of measure thought to do a thing that pertaineth to a king, to make up one of nought, and made to him be brought a wretched poore man which his living won with planting of lekes by the days and by the wekes, and of this pore vassall he made a king royal, and gave him a realm to rule, that occupied a shovel, a mattock and a spade, before that he was made a king, as i have told, and ruled as he would. such is a king's power, to make within an hour, and work such a miracle, that shall be a spectacle, of renown and worldly fame: in likewise now the same cardinal is promoted, yet with lewd conditions coted, presumption and vain glory, envy, wrath, and lechery, covetousness and gluttony, slothful to do good, now frantick, now starke wode.[ ] [footnote : pray.] [footnote : wolsey's palace as archb. of york: after his fall it became the royal palace of whitehall.] [footnote : sans autre.] [footnote : the name of a prison.] [footnote : restrained.] [footnote : good will.] [footnote : caecitatem = blindness.] [footnote : potsherdes = broken pieces of earthenware.] [footnote : sang (fr.), blood.] [footnote : pardieu.] [footnote : sort.] [footnote : quatrivials = astrology, geometry, arithmetic, music.] [footnote : the trivials = grammar, rhetoric, and logic.] [footnote : to make good our story.] [footnote : mad.] wolsey and the popedom ( ). _cardinal wolsey to king henry._ from the originals lent me by sir william cook. letter i. +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, part iii.; _collection of records_, book i., no. . sir, it may like your highness to understand i have this hour received letters from your orators resident in the court of rome, mentioning how the xivth day of this instant month, it pleased almighty god to call the pope's holiness to his mercy, whose soul our lord pardon. and in what train the matters then were at that time for election of the future pope, your highness shall perceive by the letters of your said orators, which i send unto the same at this time, whereby appeareth that mine absence from thence shall be the only obstacle (if any be) in the election of me to that dignity; albeit there is no great semblance that the college of cardinals shall consent upon any being there present, because of the sundry factions that be among themselves, for which cause, though afore god, i repute myself right unmeet and unable to so high and great dignity, desiring much rather to demure, continue and end my life with your grace, for doing of such service as may be to your honour and wealth of this your realm, than to be x popes, yet nevertheless, remembering what mind and opinion your grace was of, at the last vacation, to have me preferred thereunto, thinking that it should be to the honour, benefit, etc. advancement of your affairs in time coming; and supposing that your highness persisteth in the same mind and intent, i shall devise such instructions, commissions and other writings, as the last time was delivered to mr. pace for that purpose: and the same i shall send to your grace by the next post, whom it may like to do farther therein as will stand with your gracious pleasure, whereunto i shall always conform myself accordingly. and to the intent it may appear farther to your grace what mind and determination they be of, towards mine advancement, which as your orators wrote, have now at this present time the principal authority and chief stroke in the election of the pope, making in manner _triumviratum_, i send unto your highness their several letters to me addressed in that behalf, beseeching our lord that such one may be chosen as may be to the honour of god, the weal of christ's church, and the benefit of all christendom. and thus jesu preserve your most noble and royal estate: at the more the last day of september, by your most humble chaplain, t. carlis. ebor. letter ii. +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, vol. iii.; _collection of records_, part i., no. . sir, it may like your grace to understand that ensuing the tenor of my letter sent unto your highness yesterday, i have devised such commissions and letters to be sent unto your counsellors the bishop of bath, mr. richard pace, and mr. thomas hanibal, jointly and severally, as at the last time of vacation of the papal dignity were delivered unto the said mr. richard pace; for the preferment either of me, or that failing of the cardinal de medici unto the same, which letters and commissions if it stand with your gracious pleasure to have that matter set forth, it may like your highness of your benign grace and goodness to sign, so to be sent to the court of rome in such diligence as the importance of the same, with the brevity of the time doth necessarily require. and to the intent also that the emperor may the more effectually and speedily concur with your highness for the furtherance hereof, albeit, i suppose verily that ensuing the conference and communications which he hath had with your grace in that behalf, he hath not praetermitted before this time to advance the same, yet nevertheless for the more acceleration of this furtherance to be given thereunto, i have also devised a familiar letter in the name of your grace to be directed unto his majesty, which if it may please your highness to take the pain for to write with your own hand, putting thereunto your secret sign and mark, being between your grace and the said emperor, shall undoubtedly do singular benefit and furtherance to your gracious intent and virtuous purpose in that behalf. beseeching almighty god that such effect may ensue thereof, as may be in his pleasure, the contentation of your highness, the weal and exaltation of your most royal estate, realm, and affairs, and howsoever the matter shall chance, i shall no less knowledge myself obliged and bounden far above any my deserts unto your highness, than if i had attained the same, whereunto i would never in thought aspire, but to do honour good and service unto your noble person and this your realm. and thus jesu preserve your most noble and royal estate, at the more the first day of october, by your most humble chaplain, t. carlis. ebor. wolsey and the king's marriage ( ). _a part of cardinal wolsey's letter to the king._ +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, part iii., book i.; _collection of records_, number . we daily and hourly musing and thinking on your grace's great and secret affair, and how the same may come to good effect and desired end, as well for the deliverance of your grace out of the thrauld,[ ] pensive, and dolorous life that the same is in, as for the continuance of your health and the surety of your realm and succession, considering also that the pope's consent, or his holiness detained in captivity, the authority of the cardinals now to be convoked into france equivalent thereunto, must concur for approbation of such process as i shall make in that behalf; and that if the queen shall fortune, which it is to be supposed she will do, either appeal or utterly decline from my jurisdiction (one of the said authorities is also necessarily requisite). i have none other thought nor study but how in available manner the same may be attained. and after long discussion and debating with myself, i finally am reduced and resolved to two points; the one is that the pope's consent cannot be obtained and had in this case, unless his deliverance out of captivity be first procured; the other is that the cardinals can nothing do in this behalf, unless there be by them consultation and order taken, what shall be done _in administratione rerum ecclesiasticarum durante dicta captivitate summi pontificis_. as touching the restitution of the pope to liberty, the state of the present affairs considered the most prompt sure and ready way is, by conclusion of the peace betwixt the emperor and the french king: for the advancement and setting forward whereof i shall put myself in extreme devour, and by all possible means induce and persuade the said french king to strain himself and condescend to as much of the emperor's demands as may stand with reason and surety of his and your grace's affairs; moving him further, that forasmuch as the emperor taketh your highness as a mediator making fair demonstration in words, that he will at your contemplation and arbitre, not only declare the bottom of his mind concerning his demand, but also remit and relent in the same, he will be contented that your grace forbearing the intimation of hostility may in the managing of the said peace and inducing the emperor to reasonable conditions, be so taken and reputed of him, without any outward declaration to the contrary until such time as the conducing of the said peace shall be clearly desperate. whereby if the said french king can be induced thereunto, may in the mean season use the benefit of their intercourse in the emperor's low-countries: not omitting nevertheless for the time of soliciting the said peace, the diligent zeal and effectual execution of the sword by monsieur de lautrek in the parties of italy: whereby your grace's said mediation shall be the more set by and regarded. and in case the said peace cannot be by these means brought to effect, whereupon might ensue the pope's deliverance, by whose authority and consent your grace's affair should take most sure honourable effectual and substantial end, and who i doubt not considering your grace's gratitude, would facilely be induced to do all things therein that might be to your grace's good satisfaction and purpose, then and in that case there is none other remedy but the convocation of the said cardinals; who as i am informed will not nor can conveniently converse in any other place but at avignon, where the administration of the ecclesiastical jurisdiction hath been in semblable cases heretofore exercised. to the which place if the said cardinals can be induced to come, your highness being so contented, i purpose also to repair, not sparing any labour, travail or pain in my body, charges or expense, to do service unto your grace in that behalf; according to that most bounden duty and hearty desire, there to consult and devise with them for the governance and administration of the authority of the church during the said captivity: which shall be a good ground and fundament for the effectual execution of your grace's secret affair. and forasmuch as thus repairing to avignon i shall be near to the emperor's confines, and within an hundred miles of perpinian, which is a commodious and convenient place to commune and treat with the emperor's person, i think in my poor opinion that the conducing of peace by your grace's mediation not being desperate, nor intimation of hostility made on your behalf, it should much confer as well for the deliverance of the pope, as for concluding of the peace between the french king and the emperor, if his majesty can be so contented that a meeting might be between him, my lady the french king's mother, and me at the said perpinian; to the which.... (_the rest of this letter has been lost._) [footnote : enslaved.] william tyndale on the translation of the scriptures ( ). +source.+--tyndale's _obedience of a christian man and how christian rulers ought to govern_, , p. . that thou mayest perceive how that the scripture ought to be in the mother tongue, and that the reasons which our spirits make for the contrary are but sophistry and false wiles to fear thee from the light, that thou mightest follow them blindfold and be their captive to honour their ceremonies and to offer to their belly. first god gave the children of israel a law by the hand of moses in their mother tongue, and all the prophets wrote in their mother tongue, and all the psalms were in the mother tongue. and there was christ but figured and described in ceremonies, in riddles, in parables and in dark prophecies. what is the cause that we may not have the old testament with the new also, which is the light of the old, and wherein is openly declared before the eyes that there was darkly prophesied? i can imagine no cause verily, except it be that we should not see the work of antichrist and juggling of hypocrites. what should be the cause that we which walk in the broad day should not see as well as they that walked in the night, or that we should not see as well at noon as they did in the twilight? came christ to make the world more blind? by this means, christ is the darkness of the world, and not the light as he saith himself, john viii. moreover, moses saith, deutero. vi, "hear, israel, let these words which i command thee this day stick fast in thine heart, and whet them on thy children, and talk of them as thou sittest in thine house and as thou walkest by the way and when thou liest down and when thou risest up, and bind them for a token of thine hand, and let them be a remembrance between thine eyes, and write them on the posts and gates of thine house." this was commanded generally unto all men. how cometh it that god's word pertaineth less unto us than unto them? yea, how cometh it that our moseses forbid us and command us the contrary, and threat us if we do, and will not that we once speak of god's word? how can we whet god's word (that is put in practise, use and exercise) upon our children and household, when we are violently kept from it and know it not? how can we (as peter commandeth) give a reason for our hope, when we wot not what it is that god hath promised or what to hope? moses also commandeth in the said chapter: if the son ask what the testimonies, laws and observances of the lord mean, that the father teach him. if our children ask what our ceremonies (which are no more than the jewses were) mean, no father can tell his son. and in the xi chapter he repeateth all again, for fear of forgetting. they will say haply "the scripture requireth a pure mind and a quiet mind. and therefore the lay-man, because he is altogether cumbered with worldly business, cannot understand them." if that be the cause, then it is a plain case that our prelates understand not the scriptures themselves. for no lay-man is so tangled with worldly business as they are. the great things of the world are ministered by them. neither do the lay people any great thing but at their assignment. "if the scripture were in the mother tongue," they will say, "then would the lay people understand it every man after his own ways." wherefore serveth the curate but to teach them the right way? wherefore were the holidays made but that the people should come and learn? are ye not abominable schoolmasters in that ye take so great wages, if ye will not teach? if ye would teach, how could ye do it so well and with so great profit as when the lay people have the scripture before them in their mother tongue? for then should they see, by the order of the text, whether thou juggledest or not. and then would they believe it because it is the scripture of god, though thy living be never so abominable. where now, because your living and your preaching are so contrary and because they grope out in every sermon your open and manifest lies and smell your unsatiable covetousness, they believe you not when you preach truth. but alas, the curates themselves (for the most part) wot no more what the new or old testament meaneth than do the turks. neither know they of any more than that they read at masse, matins, and evensong, which yet they understand not. neither care they but even to mumble up so much every day (as the pie and popinjay speak they wot not what) to fill their bellies with all. if they will not let the lay-man have the word of god in his mother tongue, yet let the priests have it, which, for a great part of them, do understand no latin at all; but sing and say and patter all day with the lips only that which the heart understandeth not. english translations of the bible burnt ( ). +source.+--edward hall's _henry viii_. grafton's edition, .[ ] here is to be remembered, that at this present time, william tindale had newly translated and imprinted the new testament in english, and the bishop of london, not pleased with the translation thereof, debated with himself, how he might compass and devise to destroy that false and erroneous translation, (as he said). and so it happened that one augustine packington, a mercer and merchant of london, and of great honesty, the same time was in antwerp, where the bishop then was, and this packington was a man that highly favoured william tindale, but to the bishop utterly showed himself to the contrary. the bishop desirous to have his purpose brought to pass, communed of the new testament, and how gladly he would buy them. packington then hearing that he wished for, said unto the bishop, my lord, if it be your pleasure, i can in this matter do more, i dare say, than most of the merchants of england that are here, for i know the dutchmen and strangers, that have bought them of tyndale, and have them here to sell, so that if it be your lordship's pleasure, to pay for them (for otherwise i cannot come by them, but i must disburse money for them) i will then assure you, to have every book of them, that is imprinted and is here unsold. the bishop thinking that he had god by the toe, when indeed he had (as after he thought) the devil by the fist, said, gentle master packington, do your diligence and get them, and with all my heart i will pay for them, whatsoever they cost you, for the books are erroneous and naughty, and i intend surely to destroy them all, and to burn them at paul's cross. augustine packington came to william tyndale and said, william i know thou art a poor man, and hast a heap of new testaments and books by thee for the which thou hast both endangered thy friends, and beggared thyself, and i have now gotten thee a merchant, which with ready money shall dispatch thee of all that thou hast, if you think it so profitable for yourself. who is the merchant, said tyndale. the bishop of london, said packington. o that is because he will burn them, said tyndale. yea mary, quod packington. i am the gladder, said tyndale, for these two benefits shall come thereof, i shall get money of him for these books, to bring myself out of debt, and the whole world shall cry out upon the burning of god's word. and the overplus of the money that shall remain to me, shall make me more studious, to correct the said new testament, and so newly to imprint the same once again, and i trust the second will much better like you, than ever did the first: and so forward went the bargain, the bishop had the books, packington the thanks, and tyndale had the money. afterwards, when more new testaments were imprinted, they came thick and threefold into england. the bishop of london hearing that still there were so many new testaments abroad, sent for augustine packington and said unto him: sir, how cometh this that there are so many new testaments abroad, and you promised and assured me that you had bought all? then said packington, i promise you i bought all that there was to be had: but i perceive they have made more since, and it will never be better, as long as they have the letters and stamps; therefore it were best for your lordship, to buy the stamps too, and then are you sure: the bishop smiled at him and said, well packington, well. and so ended this matter. [footnote : no reference has been given to the paging, as it is improbable that readers will have access to the grafton edition. should there be need for further reference to hall's life, no difficulty will be found, as in all editions each year has a separate chapter.] two letters written by king henry to the university of oxford, for their opinion in the cause of his marriage ( ). letter i. by the king. +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, book iii.; _collection of records_, book ii. no . trusty and well beloved subjects, we greet you well. and whereas we have, for an high and weighty cause of ours, not only consulted many and substantial well learned men within our realm and without, for certain considerations our conscience moving, we think it also very convenient to feel the minds of you amongst you in our university of oxenford, which be erudite in the faculty of divinity, to the intent we may perceive of what conformity ye be with the others, which marvellously both wisely and substantially have declared to us their intent and mind: not doubting but that ye for the allegiance and fidelity that ye are bound unto us in, will as sincerely and truly without any abuse declare your minds and conscience in this behalf, as any of the other have done. wherefore we will and command you, that ye not leaning to wilful and sinister opinions of your own several minds, not giving credence to misreports and sinister opinions or persuasions, considering we be your sovereign liege lord, totally giving your true mind and affection to the true overture of divine learning in this behalf, do shew and declare your true and just learning in the said cause, like as ye will abide by; wherein ye shall not only please almighty god, but also us your liege lord. and we for your so doing shall be to you and our university there so good and gracious a sovereign lord for the same, as ye shall perceive it well employed to your well fortune to come; in case you do not uprightly according to divine learning hand yourselves herein, ye may be assured, that we, not without great cause, shall so quickly and sharply look to your unnatural misdemeanour herein, that it shall not be to your quietness and ease hereafter. wherefore we heartily pray you, that according both to duty to god and your prince, you set apart all untrue and sinister informations, and accommodate yourselves to mere truth as it becometh true subjects to do; assuring you that those that do, shall be esteemed and set forth, and the contrary neglected and little set by: trusting that now you know our mind and pleasure, we shall see such conformity among you, that we shall hereof take great consolation and comfort, to the great allegement of our conscience; willing and commanding you among you to give perfect credence to my lord of lincoln our confessor in this behalf and matter: and in all things which he shall declare unto you or cause to be declared in our behalf, to make unto us either by him or the authentic letters full answer and resolution, which, your duties well-remembered, we doubt not but that it shall be our high contention and pleasure. given under, etc. letter ii. by the king. trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. and of late being informed, to our no little marvel and discontentation, that a great part of the youth of that our university with contentious factions and manner, daily combining together, neither regarding their duty to us their sovereign lord, nor yet conforming themselves to the opinions and orders of the virtuous, wise, sage, and profound learned men of that university, wilfully to stick upon the opinion to have a great number of regents and non-regents to be associate unto the doctors, proctors, and bachelors of divinity, for the determination of our question; which we believe hath not been often seen, that such a number of right small learning in regard to the other, should be joined with so famous a sort, or in a manner stay their seniors in so weighty a cause: which as we think should be no small dishonour to our university there, but most especially to you the seniors and rulers of the same, assuring you that this their unnatural and unkind demeanour is not only right much to our displeasure, but much to be marvelled of, upon what ground and occasion they being our mere subjects, should show themselves more unkind and wilful in this matter, than all other universities both in this and in all other regions do. finally, we trusting in the dexterity and wisdom of you and other the said discreet and substantial learned men of that university, be in perfect hope, that ye will condemn and frame the said young persons unto good order and conformity, as it becometh you to do. wherefore we be desirous to hear with incontinent diligence, and doubt you not we shall regard the demeanour of everyone of the university, according to their merits and deserts. and if the youth of the university will play masteries, as they begin to do, we doubt not but that they shall well perceive that _non est bonum irritare crabrones_. given under, etc. cardinal campeggio's judgment on the divorce of queen katharine ( ). +source.+--cavendish's _life of wolsey_, p. . "i will give no judgement herein until i have made relation unto the pope of all our proceedings, whose counsel and commandment in this high case i will observe. the case is too high and notable known throughout the world, for us to give any hasty judgement, considering the highness of the persons and the doubtful allegations; and also whose commissioners we be, and under whose authority we sit here. it was therefore reason, that we should make our chief head of counsel in the same, before we proceed to judgement definitive. i come not so far to please any man, for fear, meed, or favour, be he king or any other potentate. i have no such respect to the persons that i will offend my conscience. i will not for favour or displeasure of any high estate or mighty prince do that thing that should be against the law of god. i am an old man, both sick and impotent, looking daily for death. what should it then avail me to put my soul in the danger of god's displeasure, to my utter damnation, for the favour of any prince or high estate in this world? my coming and being here is only to see justice ministered according to my conscience, as i thought thereby the matter either good or bad. and for as much as i do understand, and having perceivance by the allegations and negations in this matter laid for both the parties, that the truth in this case is very doubtful to be known, and also that the party defendant will make no answer thereunto, but doth rather appeal from us, supposing that we be not indifferent, considering the king's high dignity and authority within his own realm which he hath over his own subjects; and we being his subjects, and having our livings and dignities in the same, she thinketh that we cannot minister true and indifferent justice for fear of his displeasure. therefore to avoid all these ambiguities and obscure doubts, i intend not to damn my soul for no prince nor potentate alive. i will therefore, god willing, wade no farther in this matter, unless i have the just opinion and judgement, with the assent of the pope, and such other of his counsel as hath more experience and learning in such doubtful laws than i have. wherefore i will adjourn this court for this time, according to the order of the court in rome, from whence this court and jurisdiction is derived. and if we should go further than our commission doth warrant us, it were folly and vain, and much to our slander and blame; and we might be accounted the same breakers of this order of the higher court from whence we have (as i said) our original authorities." anne boleyn's hatred of wolsey ( ). +source.+--cavendish's _life of wolsey_ (published by harding and lepard, ), p. . and as i[ ] heard it reported by them that waited upon the king at dinner, that mistress anne boleyn was much offended with the king, as far as she durst, that he so gently entertained my lord, saying, as she sat with the king at dinner, in communication of him, "sir," quoth she, "is it not a marvellous thing to consider what debt and danger the cardinal hath brought you in with all your subjects?" "how so, sweetheart?" quoth the king. "forsooth," quoth she, "there is not a man in all your realm, worth five pounds, but he hath indebted you unto him," (meaning by a loan that the king had but late of his subjects). "well, well," quoth the king, "as for that there is in him no blame; for i know that matter better than you, or any other." "nay, sir," quoth she, "besides all that, what things hath he wrought within this realm to your great slander and dishonour? there is never a nobleman within this realm that if he had done but half so much as he hath done, but he were well worthy to lose his head. if my lord of norfolk, my lord of suffolk, my lord my father, or any other noble person within your realm, had done much less than he, but they should have lost their heads ere this." "why, then, i perceive," quoth the king, "ye are not the cardinal's friend?" "forsooth, sir," then quoth she, "i have no cause, nor any other that loveth your grace, no more have your grace if ye consider well his doings." [footnote : "i" refers to cavendish, who was wolsey's gentleman usher.] wolsey's fall ( ). +source.+--cavendish's _life of wolsey_, p. . after cardinal campeggio was thus departed and gone, michaelmas term drew near, against the which my lord returned unto his house at westminster; and when the term began, he went to the hall in such like sort and gesture as he was wont most commonly to do, and sat in the chancery, being chancellor. after which day he never sat there more. the next day he tarried at home, expecting the coming of the dukes of suffolk and norfolk, who came not that day: but the next day they came thither unto him: to whom they declared how the king's pleasure was that he should surrender and deliver up the great seal into their hands, and to depart simply unto asher, (esher) a house situate nigh hampton court, belonging to the bishoprick of winchester. my lord, understanding their message, demanded of them what commission they had to give him any such commandment, who answered him again, that they were sufficient commissioners in that behalf, having the king's commandment by his mouth so to do. "yet," quoth he, "that is not sufficient for me, without further commandment of the king's pleasure; for the great seal of england was delivered me by the king's own person, to enjoy during my life, with the ministration of the office and high room of chancellorship of england: for my surety whereof, i have the king's letters patent to show." which matter was greatly debated between the dukes and him, with many stout words between them; whose words and checks he took in patience for the time; in so much that the dukes were fain to depart again, without their purpose at that present: and returned again unto windsor to the king: and what report they made i cannot tell; howbeit the next day they came again from the king, bringing with them the king's letters. after the receipt and reading of the same by my lord, which was done with much reverence, he delivered unto them, the great seal, contented to obey the king's high commandment: and seeing that the king's pleasure was to take his house, with the contents, was well pleased simply to depart to asher, taking nothing but only some provision for his house. a letter written by cardinal wolsey to dr. stephen gardner ( ). +source.+--cavendish's _life of wolsey_ (published by harding and lepard, ), p. . my own good master secretary, after my most hearty commendations i pray you at the reverence of god to help, that expedition be used in my pursuits, the delay whereof so replenisheth my heart with heaviness, that i can take no rest; not for any vain fear, but only for the miserable condition that i am presently in, and likelihood to continue in the same, unless that you, in whom is my assured trust do help and relieve me therein; for first, continuing here in this moist and corrupt air, being entered into the passion of the dropsy, _cum prostatione appetitus et continuo insomnio_. i cannot live: wherefore of necessity i must be removed to some other dryer air and place, where i may have commodity of physicians. secondly, having but yorke, which is now decayed, by £ by the year, i cannot tell how to live, and keep the poor number of folks which i now have, my houses there be in decay, and of everything meet for household unprovided and furnished. i have no apparel for my houses there, nor money to bring me thither, nor to live with till the propice time of the year shall come to remove thither. these things considered, mr. secretary, must needs make me in agony and heaviness, mine age therewith and sickness considered, alas mr. secretary, ye with other my lords showed me, that i should otherwise be furnished and seen unto, ye know in your learning and conscience, whether i should forfeit my spiritualities of winchester or no. alas! the qualities of mine offences considered, with the great punishment and loss of goods that i have sustained, ought to move pitiful hearts; and the most noble king, to whom if it would please you of your charitable goodness to show the premises after your accustomed wisdom and dexterity, it is not to be doubted, but his highness would have consideration and compassion, augmenting my living, and appointing such thing as should be convenient for my furniture, which to do shall be to the king's high honour, merit, and discharge of conscience, and to you great praise for the bringing of the same to pass for your old bringer up and loving friend. this kindness exhibited from the king's highness shall prolong my life for some little while, though it shall not be long, by the means whereof his grace shall take profit, and by my death not. what is it to his highness to give some convenient portion out of winchester, and st. albans, his grace taking with my hearty good will the residue. remember, good mr. secretary, my poor degree, and what service i have done, and how now approaching to death, i must begin the world again. i beseech you therefore, moved with pity and compassion, succour me in this my calamity, and to your power which i know is great, relieve me; and i with all mine shall not only ascribe this my relief unto you, but also pray to god for the increase of your honour, and as my poor shall increase, so i shall not fail to requite your kindness. written hastily at asher,[ ] with the rude and shaking hand of your daily bedesman and assured friend, t. carlis ebor. to the right honourable and my assured friend, master secretary. [footnote : esher.] the king's last letter to the pope ( ). +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, part i.; _collection of records_, book ii. xlii. "after most humble commendations, and most devout kissing of your blessed feet. albeit that we have hitherto deferred to make answer to those letters dated at bonony, the th day of october; which letters of late were delivered unto us by paul of casali. yet when they appear to be written for this cause, that we deeply considering the contents of the same, should provide for the tranquillity of our own conscience, and should purge such scruples and doubts conceived of our cause of matrimony. we could neither neglect those letters sent for such a purpose, nor after that we had diligently examined and perpended the effects of the same, which we did very diligently, noting, conferring and revolving every thing in them contained, with deep study of mind, pretermit nor leave to answer unto them. for since that your holiness seemeth to go about that thing chiefly, which is to vanquish those doubts, and to take away inquietations which daily do prick our conscience: and insomuch as it doth appear at the first sight to be done of zeal, love and piety, we therefore do thank you of your good will. howbeit since it is not performed in deed, that you pretend, we have thought it expedient to require your holiness to provide us other remedies: wherefore forasmuch as your holiness would vouchsafe to write unto us concerning this matter, we heartily thank you greatly lamenting also both the chance of your holiness and also ours, unto whom both twain it hath chanced in so high a matter of so great moment to be frustrated and deceived: that is to say, that your holiness not being instructed, nor having knowledge of the matter, of your self should be compelled to hang upon the judgement of others, and so put forth and make answers, gathered of other men, being variable and repugnant among themselves. and that we being so long sick and exagitate with this same sore, should so long time in vain look for remedy: which when we have augmented our aegritude and distress, by delay and protracting of time, you do so cruciate the patient and afflicted as who seeth it should much avail to protract the cause, and thorough vain hope of the end of our desire to lead us whither you will. but to speak plainly to your holiness; forasmuch as we have suffered many injuries, which with great difficulty we do sustain and digest; albeit that among all things passed by your holiness, some cannot be laid, alleged, nor objected against your holiness, yet in many of them some default appeareth to be in you, which i would to god we could so diminish as it might appear no default; but it cannot be hid, which is so manifest and though we could say nothing, the thing itself speaketh. but as to that that is affirmed in your letters, both of god's law, and man's, otherwise than is necessary and truth, let that be ascribed to the temerity and ignorance of your counsellors, and your holiness to be without all default save only for that you do not admit more discreet and learned men to be your counsellors, and stop the mouths of them which liberally would speak the truth. this truly is your default, and verily a great fault, worthy to be alienated and abhorred of christ's vicar, in that you have dealt so variably, yea, rather so inconstantly and deceivably. be ye not angry with my words and let it be lawful for me to speak the truth without displeasure; if your holiness shall be displeased with that we do rehearse, impute no default in us, but in your own deeds, which deeds have so molested and troubled us wrongfully that we speak now unwillingly, and as enforced thereunto. never was there any prince so handled by a pope, as your holiness hath intreated us. first when our cause was proponed to your holiness, when it was explicated and declared afore the same; when certain doubts in it were resolved by your counsellors, and all things discussed, it was required that answer might be made thereunto by the order of the law. there was offered a commission, with a promise also that the same commission should not be revoked; and whatsoever sentence should be given, should straight without delay be confirmed. the judges were sent unto us, the promise was delivered to us, subscribed with your holiness' hand; which avouched to confirm the sentence and not to revoke the commission, nor grant anything else that might let the same; and finally to bring us in a greater hope, a certain commission decretal, defining the cause, was delivered to the judges' hands. if your holiness did grant us all these things justly, you did injustly revoke them; and if by good and truth the same was granted, they were not made frustrate or annihilate without fraud; so as if there were no deceit nor fraud in the revocation, then how wrongfully and subtly have been done those things that have been done! whether will your holiness say, that you might do those things that you have done, or that you might not do them? if you will say that you might do them, where then is the faith which becometh a friend, yea, and much more a pope to have those things not being performed, which lawfully were promised? and if you will say that you might not do them, have we not then very just cause to mistrust those medicines and remedies with which in your letters you go about to heal our conscience, especially in that we may perceive and see those remedies to be prepared for us, not to relieve the sickness and disease of our mind, but for other means, pleasures and worldly respects? and as it should seem profitable that we should ever continue in hope or despair, so always the remedy is attempted; so that we being always a-healing, and never healed, should be sick still. and this truly was the chief cause why we did consult and take the advice of every learned man, being free without all affection, that the truth (which now with our labour and study we seem partly to have attained) by their judgements more manifestly divulged, we might more at large perceive; whose judgements and opinions it is easy to see how much they differ from that, that those few men of yours do shew unto you, and by those your letters is signified. those few men of yours do affirm the prohibition of our marriage to be inducted only by the law positive, as your holiness has also written in your letters; but all others say the prohibition to be inducted, both by the law of god and nature. those men of yours do suggest, that it may be dispensed for avoiding all slanders. the others utterly do contend, that by no means it is lawful to dispense with that, that god and nature have forbidden. we do separate from our cause the authority of the see apostolic, which we do perceive to be destitute of that learning whereby it should be directed; and because your holiness doth ever profess your ignorance and is wont to speak of other men's mouths, we do confer the sayings of those, with the sayings of them that be of the contrary opinion; for to confer the reasons it were too long. but now the universities of cambridge, oxford in our realms; paris, orleans, biturisen,[ ] andegavon[ ] in france; and bonony[ ] in italy, by one consent; and also divers other of the most famous and learned men, being freed from all affection, and only moved in respect of verity, partly in italy, and partly in france, do affirm the marriage of the brother with the brother's wife to be contrary both to the law of god and nature, and also do pronounce that no dispensation can be lawful or available to any christian man in that behalf. but others think the contrary by whose counsels your holiness hath done that, that since you have confessed you could not do, in promising to us as we have above rehearsed, and giving that commission to the cardinal campeggio to be shewed unto us; and after, if it so should seem profitable to burn it, as afterwards it was done indeed as we have perceived. furthermore, those which so do moderate the power of your holiness, that they do affirm that the same cannot take away the appellation which is used by man's law and yet is available to divine matters everywhere without distinction. no princes heretofore have more highly esteemed, nor honoured the see apostolic than we have, wherefore we be the more sorry to be provoked to this contention which to our usage and nature is most alienate and abhorred. those things so cruel we write very heavily, and more glad would have been to have been silent if we might, and would have left your authority untouched with a good will and constrained to seek the verity, we fell, against our will into this contention, but the sincerity of the truth prohibited us to keep silence and what should we do in so great and many perplexities! for truly if we should obey the letters of your holiness in that they do affirm that we know to be otherwise, we should offend god and our conscience and we should be a great slander to them that do the contrary, which be a great number, as we have before rehearsed. also, if we should dissent from those things which your holiness doth pronounce we would account it not lawful, if there were not a cause to defend the fact as we now do, being compelled by necessity, lest we should seem to contemn the authority of the see apostolic. therefore, your holiness ought to take it in good part though we do somewhat at large and more liberally speak in this cause which does so oppress us, especially forasmuch as we pretend none atrocity, nor use no rhetoric in the exaggerating and increasing the indignity of the matter; but if i speak of anything that toucheth the quick, it proceedeth of the mere verity, which we cannot nor ought not to hide in this cause, for it toucheth not worldly things but divine, not frail but eternal; in which things no feigned, false nor painted reasons, but only the truth shall obtain and take place; and god is the truth to whom we are bound to obey rather than to men; and nevertheless we cannot but obey unto men also, as we were wont to do, unless there be an express cause why we should not, which by those our letters we now do to your holiness, and we do it with charity, not intending to spread it abroad nor yet further to impugn your authority, unless you do compel us; albeit also, that that we do, doth not impugn your authority, but confirmeth the same, which we revocate to its first foundations; and better it is in the middle way to return than always to run forth headlong and do ill. wherefore if your holiness do regard or esteem the tranquillity of our mind, let the same be established with verity which hath been brought to light by the consent of so many learned men; so shall your holiness reduce and bring us to a certainty and quietness, and shall deliver us from all anxiety, and shall provide both for us and our realm and finally shall do your office and duty. the residue of our affairs we have committed to our ambassadors to be propounded unto you, to whom we beseech your holiness to give credence, etc." [footnote : bourges.] [footnote : anjou.] [footnote : bologna.] the submission of the clergy and restraint of appeals ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii .) ... and be it further enacted by authority aforesaid, that from the feast of easter, which shall be in the year of our lord god, , no manner of appeals shall be had, provoked, or made out of this realm, or out of any of the king's dominions, to the bishop of rome, nor to the see of rome, in any causes or matters happening to be in contention, and having their commencement or beginning in any of the courts within this realm, or within any of the king's dominions, of what nature, condition, or quality soever they be of; but that all manner of appeals, of what nature or condition soever they be of, or what cause or matter soever they concern, shall be made and had by the parties agreed, or having cause of appeal, after such manner, form and condition, as is limited for appeals to be had and prosecuted within this realm in causes of matrimony, tithes, oblations and observations, by a statute made and established since the beginning of this present parliament, and according to the form and effect of the said statute: any usage, custom, prescription or any thing or things to the contrary hereof notwithstanding. and for lack of justice at or in any the courts of the archbishops of this realm, or in any the king's dominions, it shall be lawful to the parties grieved to appeal to the king's majesty in the king's court of chancery; and that upon every such appeal, a commission shall be directed under the great seal to such persons as shall be named under the king's highness, his heirs or successors, like as in case of appeal from the admiral's court, to hear and definitely determine such appeals and the causes concerning the same. which commissioners, or appointed, shall have full power and authority to hear and so by the king's highness, his heirs or successors, to be named definitively determine every such appeal, with the causes and all circumstances concerning the same; and that such judgement and sentence as the said commissioners shall make and decree, in and upon any such appeal, shall be good and effectual, and also definitive; and no further appeals to be had or made from the said commissioners for the same. the ecclesiastical appointments act. the absolute restraint of annates, election of bishops and letters missive act ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) and for as much as in the said act it is not only plainly and certainly expressed in what manner and fashion archbishops and bishops shall be elected, presented, invested, and consecrated within this realm and in all other the king's dominions; be it now therefore enacted by the king our sovereign lord, by the assent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons, in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that the said act, and everything herein contained shall be and stand in strength, virtue, and effect; except only, that no person or persons hereafter shall be presented, nominated, or commended to the said bishop of rome, otherwise called the pope, or to the see of rome, to or for the dignity or office of any archbishop or bishop within this realm, or in any other the king's dominions, nor shall send nor procure there for any manner of bulls, briefs, palls or other things requisite for an archbishop or bishop, nor shall pay any sums of money for annates, first-fruits or otherwise, for expedition of any such bulls, briefs or palls; but that by the authority of this act, such presenting, nominating, or commending to the said bishop of rome, or to the see of rome, and such bulls, briefs, palls, annates, first-fruits, and every other sums of money heretofore limited, accustomed, or used to be paid at the said see of rome, for procuration or expedition of any such bulls, briefs or palls, or other thing concerning the same, shall utterly cease and no longer be used within this realm or within any of the king's dominions: anything contained in the said act aforementioned, or any use, custom, or prescription to the contrary thereof notwithstanding. act forbidding papal dispensations and the payment of peter's pence ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) for where this your grace's realm recognizing no superior under god, but only your grace, has been and is free from subjection to any man's laws, but only to such as have been devised, made, and ordained within this realm, for the wealth of the same, or to such other as, by sufferance of your grace and your progenitors, the people of this your realm have taken at their free liberty, by their own consent, to be used amongst them, and have bound themselves by long use and custom to the observance of the same, not as to the observance of the laws of any foreign prince, potentate, or prelate, but to the accustomed and ancient laws of this realm, originally established as laws of the same, by the said sufferance, consents, and custom, none otherwise. first act of succession ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) ... in consideration whereof, your said most humble and obedient subjects, the nobles and commons of this realm, calling further to their remembrance that the good unity, peace and wealth of this realm, and the succession of the subjects of the same, most especially and principally above all worldly things consists and rests in the certainty and surety of the procreation and posterity of your highness, in whose most royal person, at this present time, is no manner of doubt nor question; do therefore most humbly beseech your highness, that it may please your majesty, that it may be enacted by your highness, with the assent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons, in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that the marriage heretofore solemnized between your highness and the lady katherine, being before lawful wife to prince arthur, your elder brother, shall be, by authority of this present parliament, definitively, clearly and absolutely declared, deemed, and adjudged to be against the laws of almighty god, and also accepted, reputed, and taken of no value nor effect, but utterly void and annulled, and the separation, thereof, made by the said archbishop, shall be good and effectual to all intents and purposes; any licence, dispensation, or any other act or acts going afore, or ensuing the same, or to the contrary thereof, in anywise notwithstanding; and that every such licence, dispensation, act or acts, thing or things heretofore had, made and done or to be done, to the contrary thereof, shall be void and of none effect; and that the said lady katherine shall be henceforth called and reputed only dowager to prince arthur, and not queen of this realm, and that the lawful matrimony had and solemnized between your highness and your most dear and entirely beloved wife queen anne, shall be established, and taken for undoubtful, true, sincere, and perfect ever hereafter, according to the just judgement of the said thomas, archbishop of canterbury, metropolitan and primate of all this realm, whose grounds of judgement have been confirmed, as well by the whole clergy of this realm in both the convocations, and by both the universities thereof, as by the universities of bologna, padua, paris, orleans, toulouse, anjou, and divers others, and also by the private writings of many right excellent well-learned men; which grounds so confirmed, and judgement of the said archbishop ensuring the same, together with your marriage solemnized between your highness and your said lawful wife queen anne, we your said subjects, both spiritual and temporal, do purely, plainly, constantly, and firmly accept, approve and ratify for good and consonant to the laws of almighty god, without end or default, most humbly beseeching your majesty, that it may be so established for ever by your most gracious and royal assent. the supremacy act ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. i. (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) albeit the king's majesty justly and rightfully is and ought to be the supreme head of the church of england, and so is recognized by the clergy of this realm in their convocations, yet nevertheless for corroboration and confirmation thereof, and for increase of virtue in christ's religion within this realm of england, and to repress and extirpate errors, heresies, and other enormities and abuses heretofore used in the same; be it enacted by the authority of this present parliament, that the king our sovereign lord, his heir and successors, kings of this realm, shall be taken, accepted and reputed the only supreme head in earth of the church of england, called anglicana ecclesia: and shall have and enjoy, annexed and united to the imperial crown of this realm, as well the title and style thereof, as all honours, dignities, pre-eminences, jurisdictions, privileges, authorities, immunities, profits and commodities to the said dignity of supreme head of the same church belonging and appertaining. and that our said sovereign lord, his heirs and successors, kings of this realm, shall have full power and authority from time to time to visit, repress, redress, reform, order, correct, restrain, and amend all such errors, heresies, abuses, offences, contempts, and enormities, whatsoever they be, which by any manner, spiritual authority or jurisdiction ought or may lawfully be reformed, repressed, ordered, redressed, corrected, restrained, or amended, most to the pleasure of almighty god, the increase of virtue in christ's religion, and for the conservation of the peace, unity, and tranquillity of this realm; any usage, custom, foreign law, foreign authority, prescription or any other thing or things to the contrary hereof notwithstanding. letters of henry viii. to anne boleyn. circ. . +source.+--_henry viii. lettres à anne boleyn._ crapelet, paris. letter xii. there came to me in the night the most afflicting news possible. for i have reason to grieve upon three accounts. first, because i heard of the sickness of my mistress, whom i esteem more than all the world, whose health i desire as much as my own, and the half of whose sickness i would willingly bear to have her cured. secondly, because i fear i shall suffer yet longer that tedious absence, which has hitherto given me all possible uneasiness, and, as far as i can judge, is like to give me more. i pray god he would deliver me from so troublesome a tormentor. the third reason is, because the physician, in whom i trust most, is absent at present, when he could do me the greatest pleasure. for i should hope by him and his means, to obtain one of my principal joys in this world, that is my mistress cured; however, in default of him, i send you the second, and the only one left, praying god that he may soon make you well, and then i shall love him more than ever. i beseech you to be governed by his advices with relation to your illness; by your doing which, i hope shortly to see you again, which will be to me a greater cordial than all precious stones in the world. written by the secretary who is, and always will be, h. (ab) rex. the sweating sickness. +source.+--_henry viii. lettres à anne boleyn._ crapelet, paris. letter xiii. since your last letters, mine own darling, walter welsh, master brown, john case, john cork the pothecary be fallen of the sweat in this house, and, thanked be god, all well recovered, so that as yet the plague is not fully ceased here; but i trust shortly it shall. by the mercy of god the rest of us yet be well, and i trust shall pass it, either not to have it, or at the least as easily as the rest have done.... as touching your abode at herne, do therein as best shall like you; for you know best what air does best with you; but i would it were come thereto (if it pleased god), that neither of us need care for that; for i ensure you i think it long. suche is fallen sick of the sweat; and therefore i send you this bearer, because i think you long to hear tidings from us, as we do likewise from you. written with the hand _de votre seul_. h. rex. queen ann boleyn to king henry, from the tower, may ( ). +source.+--from appendix to burnet's _history of the reformation_, vol. i., p. . sir, your grace's displeasure, and my imprisonment, are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse i am altogether ignorant. whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess in truth, and so to obtain your favour), by such a one whom you know to be my ancient professed enemy; i no sooner receive this message, than i rightly conceive your meaning: and, if as you say, confessing a truth indeed may procure my safety, i shall with all willingness and duty perform your command. but let not your grace ever imgaine that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, when not so much as a thought ever proceeded: and to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in anne bullen; with which name and place i could willingly have contented myself, if god and your grace's pleasure had so been pleased. neither did i at any time forget myself in my exaltation, or received queenship, but that i always looked for such an alteration as now i find, the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration whereof, i knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. you have chosen me from a low estate to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert or my desire: if then you find me worthy of such honour, good your grace, let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of my enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ere cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial; and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judge, yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truths shall fear no open shames; then shall you see, either my innocency cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared: so that whatsoever god or you may determine of me, your grace is at liberty, both before god and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unfaithful wife, but to follow your affection, already settled on that party for whose sake i now am as i am, whose name i could some while since have pointed to, your grace not being ignorant of my suspicion therein. but if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of a desired happiness: then i desire of god, that he will pardon your great sin herein, and likewise my enemies, the instruments thereof; and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, at his general judgement-seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose just judgement, i doubt not, whatsoever the world may think of me, my innocency shall be openly known, and sufficiently cleared. my last and only request shall be, that myself may bear the burden of your grace's displeasure and it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who, as i understand, are in strait imprisonment for my sake. if ever i have found favour in your sight, if ever the name of ann bullen hath been pleasing in your ears, let me obtain this last request, i will so leave to trouble your grace any further, with my earnest prayers to the trinity, to have your grace in his good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions. your most loyal and faithful wife, ann bullen. from my doleful prison in the tower, the sixth of may, . act for the dissolution of the lesser monasteries ( ). +source.+-- henry vii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) forasmuch as manifest sin, vicious, carnal and abominable living is daily used and committed among the little and small abbeys, priories, and other religious houses of monks, canons, and nuns, where the congregation of such religious persons is under the number of twelve persons, whereby the governors of such religious houses, and their convent, spoil, destroy, consume, and utterly waste, as well their churches, monasteries, priories, principal houses, farms, granges, lands, tenements, and hereditaments, as the ornaments of their churches, and their goods and chattels, to the high displeasure of almighty god, slander of good religion, and to the great infamy of the king's highness and the realm, if redress should not be had thereof. and albeit that many continual visitations hath been heretofore had, by the space of two hundred years and more, for an honest and charitable reformation of such unthrifty carnal and abominable living, yet nevertheless little or none amendment hath been hitherto had, but their vicious living shamelessly increases and augments, and by a cursed custom so rooted and infested, that a great multitude of the religious persons in such small houses do rather choose to rove abroad in apostasy, than to conform themselves to the observation of good religion, so that without such small houses be utterly suppressed, and the religious persons therein committed to great and honourable monasteries of religion in this realm, where they may be compelled to live religiously for reformation of their lives, there cannot else be no reformation in this behalf: in consideration whereof the king's most royal majesty, being supreme head on earth, under god, of the church of england, daily finding and devising the increase, advancement and exaltation of true doctrine and virtue in the said church, to the glory and honour of god, and the total extirping and destruction of vice and sin, having knowledge that the premises be true, as well by the accounts of his late visitations, as by sundry credible informations, considering also that divers and great solemn monasteries of this realm, wherein (thanks be to god) religion is right well kept and observed, be destitute of such full numbers of religious persons, as they ought and may keep--has thought good that a plain declaration should be made of the premises, as well to the lords spiritual and temporal, as to other his loving subjects, the commons, in this present parliament assembled: whereupon the said lords and commons, by a great deliberation, finally be resolved, that it is, and shall be much more to the pleasure of almighty god, and for the honour of this his realm, that the possessions of such small religious houses; now being spent, spoiled and wasted for increase and maintenance of sin, should be used and converted to better uses, and the unthrifty religious persons, so spending the same, to be compelled to reform their lives: and thereupon most humbly desire the king's highness, that it may be enacted by authority of this present parliament, that his majesty shall have and enjoy to him and his heirs for ever, all and singular such monasteries, priories, and other religious houses of monks, canons and nuns, of what kinds of diversities of habits, rules, or orders soever they be called or named, which have not in lands, tenements, rents, tithes, portions, and other hereditaments above the clear yearly value of two hundred pounds. suppression of the monastery of tewkesbury ( ). +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_. st part; _collection of records_, book iii. , sec. v. "copied from a book that is in the augmentation office," . county: gloucester. {surrender to the use of the king's majesty and of {his heirs and successors for ever made bearing date tewkesbury {under the covent-seal[ ] of the same late monastery, late {the th day of january, in the st year of the reign monastery. {of our most dread victorious sovereign lord, king henry {the eighth: and the said day and year clearly dissolved {and suppressed. the clear yearly {as well spiritual as temporal, over and value of all the {besides £ s. d. in fees, annuities and said possessions {custodies, granted to divers persons by letters belonging to the {patents under the covent-seal of the said late monastery {monastery for term of their lives £ { £ s. d. {john wich, late abbot there {john beley, late prior there pensions {j. bromsegrove, late prior of delehurst assigned to the {robert circester, prior of st. james late religious {will didcote, prior of cranborne dispatched: {robert cheltenham, b.d. that is to say, {two monks, £ a piece to {one monk { monks £ s. d. each { £ s. d. { and so remains clear { {remain in the treasury there under records {belonging to {the custody of john whittington, and {the late {kt. the keys thereof being delivered evidences {monastery {to richard pauler, receiver. {the lodging called the newark, } {leading from the gate to the late } {abbots lodging, with buttery, } {pantry, cellar, kitchen, larder } {and pastry thereto adjoining. the } {late abbots lodging, the hostery,[ ]} houses and {the great gate entering into the } committed buildings {court, with the lodging over the } to the custody assigned to {same; the abbots stable, bakehouse, } of john remain {brewhouse and slaughterhouse, } whittington, undefaced. {the almry, barn, dairyhouse, } knight. {the great barn next the } {avon, the maltinghouse, with the } {garners in the same, the oxhouse } {in the barton,[ ] the barton gate, } {and the lodging over the same. } {the church, with chappels, cloisters,} {chapterhouse, misericord, the } {two dormitories, infirmary with } {chappels and lodgings within the } {same; the workhouse, with another } deemed {house adjoining to the same, } committed to be {the convent kitchen, the library, } as superfluous. {the old hostery, the chamberer's } abovesaid. {lodging, the new hall, the old } {parlour adjoining to the abbots } {lodging; the cellarers lodging, the } {poultry-house, the garden, the } {almary, and all other houses and } {lodgings not above reserved. } {the quire, aisles, and chapels } leads[ ] {annext the cloister chapterhouse, } remaining {frater,[ ] st. michaels chappel, } foder.[ ] upon {halls, fermory, and gate-house, } {esteemed to } bells {in the steeple there are eight poize,} remaining {by estimation } weight. jewels { } reserved to {mitres garnished with gilt, rugged } the use of {pearls, and counterfeit stones. } the king's { } majesty. { } plate of silver {silver gilt ounces.} reserved to {silver parcel gilt ounces.} . the same use. {silver white ounces.} {one cope of silver tissue, with one } ornaments {chasuble, and one tunicle of the } reserved to {same; one cope of gold tissue, } the said use. {with one cope and two tunicles of } {the same. } sum of all the { } ornaments, {sold by the said commissioners, as } goods, and {in a particular book of sales } £ s. d. chattels {thereof made ready to be shewed, } belonging to {as more at large may appear. } the said { } monastery. { } {to late religious persons } {of the said late monastery } £ s. d. { to the late {of the king's mat. (majesty) } payments {religious and {reward } { servants { } { despatched. {to an late servants of } £ s. d. {the said late monastery, for } {their wages and liveries. } {to divers persons for } {victuals and necessaries of } {them had to the use of the } {said monastery, with £ paid} { for debts {to the late abbot there, for } payments { owing by the {and in full payment of } £ s. d. { said late {£ s. d. by him to be } { monastery. {paid to certain creditors of } {the said late monastery, by } {covenants made with the } {aforesaid commissioners. } and so remains clear £ then follows a list of some small debts owing to and by the said monastery. then follows a list of the livings in their gift. county of glouc. four parsonages and vicarages. county of worcest. two parsonages and vicarages. county of war. two parsonages. county of will. (_sic_),} five parsonages and vicarage. bristol. } county of wilts. vicarages. county of oxon. one parsonage and vicarages. county of dorset. four parsonages and vicarages. county of sommers. three parsonages. county of devon. vicarage. county of cornwall. vicarages. county of glamorgan } vicarages. and morgan. } in all, parsonages and vicarages. [footnote : covent = convent; cf. covent garden.] [footnote : = hostelry, _i.e._ the guest house.] [footnote : = farmyard.] [footnote : = the refectory.] [footnote : = a measure of lead, etc., about one ton.] [footnote : _i.e._ the lead with which the roofing was covered.] the insurrection in lincolnshire ( ). +source.+--edward hall's _life of henry viii_. ( ). in the time of this parliament, the bishops and all the clergy of the realm held a solemn convocation at paules church in london, where after much disputation and debating of matters they published a book of religion entitled, "articles devised by the king's highness, etc." in this book is specially mentioned but three sacraments, with the which the lincolnshiremen (i mean their ignorant priests) were offended, and of that occasion deproved the king's doings. and this was the first beginning, as after ye shall plainly hear. after this book, which passed by the king's authority with the consent of the clergy, was published, the which contained certain articles of religion necessary to be taught unto the people, and among other it specially treated of no more than three sacraments, and beside this book, certain injunction were that time given whereby a number of their holidays were abrogated and especially such as fell in the harvest time, the keeping of which was much to the hindrance of the gathering in of corn, hay, fruit, and other such like necessary and profitable commodities. these articles thus ordained and to the people delivered. the inhabitants of the north parts being at that time very ignorant and rude, knowing not what true religion meant, but altogether noseled in superstition and popery, and also by the means of certain abbotts and ignorant priests, not a little stirred and provoked for the suppression of certain monasteries, and for the extirpation and abolishment of the bishop of rome, now taking an occasion at this book, saying "see, friends, now is taken from us four of the vii sacraments and shortly ye shall lose the other three also, and thus the faith of the holy church shall utterly be suppressed and abolished": and therefore they suddenly spread abroad and raised great and shameful slanders only to move the people to sedition and rebellion, and to kindle in the people hateful and malicious minds against the king's majesty and the magistrates of the realm, saying, let no folly bind ourselves to the maintenance of religion, and rather than to suffer it thus to decay, even to die in the field. and amongst them also were too many even of the nobility, that did not a little to provoke and stir up the ignorant and rude people the more stiffly to rebel and stand therein, faithfully promising them, both aid and succour against the king and their own native country (like foolish and wicked men) thinking by their so doing to have done god high pleasure and service. there were also certain other malicious and busy persons who added oil (as the adage says) to the furnace. these made open clamours in every place where opportunity served, that christian religion should be utterly violate, despised and set aside, and that rather than so it behoved and was the parts of every true and christian man to defend it even to the death, and not to admit and suffer by any means the faith (in which their forefathers so long and so many thousand years have lived and continued) now to be subverted and destroyed. among these were many priests which deceived also the people with many false fables and venomous lies and imaginations (which could never enter nor take place in the heart of any good man, nor faithful subject), saying that all manner of prayer and fasting and all god's service should utterly be destroyed and taken away, that no man should marry a wife or be partaker of the sacraments, or at length should eat a piece of roast meat, but he should for the same first pay unto the king a certain sum of money, and that they should be brought in more bondage and in a more wicked manner of life, than the saracens be under the great turk.... and at the last they in writing made certain petitions to the king's majesty, professing that they never intended hurt toward his royal person. the king's majesty received those petitions and made answer to them as followeth: first, we begin and make answer to the four and six articles, because upon them dependeth much of the rest. concerning choosing of councillors, i never have read, heard, or known, that princes' councillors and prelates should be appointed by rude and ignorant common people, nor that they were persons meet, nor of liability to discern and choose meet and sufficient councillors for a prince: how presumptuous then are ye the rude commons of one shire, and that one of the most brute and beastly of the whole realm, and of the least experience, to find fault with your prince for the electing of his councillors and prelates, and to take upon you contrary to god's law and man's law to rule your prince, whom ye are bound by all laws to obey and serve with both your lives, lands, and all goods, and for no worldly cause to withstand the contrary whereof you like traitors and rebels have attempted, and not like true subjects as ye name yourselves. as to the suppression of religious houses, monasteries, we will that ye and all our subjects should well know that this is granted us by all the nobles spiritual and temporal of this our realm, and by all the commons in the same by act of parliament, and not set forth by any councillor or councillors upon their mere will and phantasy, as ye full falsely would persuade our realm to believe. and when ye allege that the service of god is much diminished, the truth thereof is contrary, for there be no houses suppressed where god was well served, but where most vice, mischief, and abomination of living was used, and that doth well appear by their own confessions subscribed with their own hands in the time of their visitations, and yet we suffered a great many of them (more than we needed by the act) to stand, wherein if they amend not their living, or fear, we have more to answer for than for the suppression of all the rest. and as for the hospitality for the relief of the poor, we wonder that ye be not ashamed to affirm that they have been a great relief of poor people, when a great many or the most part hath not past four or five religious persons in them, and divers but one which spent the substance of the goods of their houses in nourishing of vice and abominable living. now what unkindness and unnaturality may be impute to you and all our subjects that be of that mind, that had liefer such an unthrifty sort of vicious persons, should enjoy such possessions, profits and enrolments, as grow of the said houses, to the maintenance of their unthrifty life, than he your natural prince, sovereign lord and king, which doth and hath spent more in your defences of your own, than six times they be worth. as touching the act of uses, we marvel what madness is in your brain, or upon what ground ye would take authority upon you to cause us to break those laws and statutes by which all the noble knights and gentlemen of this realm (whom the same chiefly toucheth) hath been granted and assented to: seeing in no manner it toucheth you the base commons of our realm. as touching the sixteenth,[ ] which ye demand of us to be released, think ye that we be so faint hearted, that perforce ye of one shire (were ye a great many more) could compel us with your insurrections and such rebellious demeanour to remit the same? or think ye that any man will or may take you to be true subjects, that first make and shew a loving grant and then perforce would compel your sovereign lord and king to release the same? the time of payment whereof is not yet come, yea and seeing the same will not countrevayl[ ] the tenth penny of the charges, which we do and daily sustain for your tuition and safeguard: make you sure, by your occasions of these your ingratitudes, unnaturalness and unkindness to us now administered, ye give no cause, which hath always been as much dedicate to your wealth as ever was king, not so much to set or study for the setting forward of the same, seeing how unkindly and untruly, ye deal now with us, without any cause or occasion: and doubt ye not, though you have no grace nor naturalness in you to consider your duty of allegiance to your king, and sovereign lord, the rest of our realm we doubt not hath: and we and they shall so look on this cause, that we trust it shall be to your confusion, if according to your former letters you submit not yourselves. wherefore we charge you eftsoons upon the foresaid bonds and pains, that ye withdraw yourselves to your own houses, every man, and no more to assemble contrary to our laws, and your allegiances, and to cause the provokers of you to this mischief, to be delivered to our lieutenants' hands, or ours, and you yourselves to submit you to such condign punishment as we and our nobles shall think you worthy: for doubt you not else that we and our nobles can nor will suffer this injury at your hands unavenged, if ye give not place to us of sovreignty, and shew yourselves as bounden and obedient subjects and no more to intermeddle yourselves from henceforth with the weighty affairs of the realm, the direction whereof only appertaineth to us your king and such noblemen and councillors, as we lyst to elect and choose to have the ordering of the same: and thus we pray unto almighty god, to give you grace to do your duties, to use yourselves towards us like true and faithful subjects, so that we may have cause to order you thereafter, and rather obediently to consent amongst you to deliver into the hands of our lieutenant a hundred persons, to be ordered according to their demerits, at our will and pleasure, than by your obstinacy and wilfulness, to put yourselves, your wives, children, lands, goods and cattles, beside the indignation of god, in the utter adventure of total destruction, and utter ruin, by force and violence of the sword. after the lincolnshire men had received this the king's answer aforesaid, made to their petitions, each mistrusting the other who should be noted to be the greatest meddler, even very suddenly they began to shrink and out of hand they were all divided, and every man at home in his own house in peace: but the captains of these rebels escaped not all clear, but were after apprehended, and had as they deserved: he that took upon him as captain of this rout, named himself captain cobles, but it was a monk called doctor macherel, with divers other which afterward were taken and apprehended. note.--within six days a new insurrection broke out in the north, known as the pilgrimage of grace. the objects of these insurgents were as follows: "the maintenance and defence of the faith of christ, and deliverance of holy church sore decayed and oppressed, and also for the furtherance as well of private as public matters in the realm touching the wealth of all the king's poor subjects" (hall ii., ). an army was sent to restore order, but they were prevented from reaching the rebels by a river, which suddenly overflowed its banks and was considered by the people to be a miracle. on the following day the king granted a pardon to all concerned, and the rebellion came to an end. [footnote : = a tax of / th of the assessed value of property.] [footnote : = balance.] injunctions to the clergy made by cromwell ( ). +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_; _collection of records_, part i., book iii. xi. first: that ye shall truly observe and keep all and singular the king's highness' injunctions, given unto you heretofore in my name, by his grace's authority; not only upon the pains therein expressed, but also in your default after this second monition continued, upon further punishment to be straitly extended towards you by the king's highness' arbitriment, or his vice-gerent aforesaid. item: that ye shall provide on this side the feast of [words omitted] next coming, one book of the whole bible of the largest volume in english, and the same set up in some convenient place within the said church that ye have use of, whereas your parishoners may most commodiously resort to the same and read it; the charge of which book shall be ratably born between you, the parson, and the parishoners aforesaid, that is to say the one half by you, and the other half by them. item: that ye shall discourage no man privily or apertly from the reading or hearing of the said bible, but shall expressly provoke, stir, and exhort every person to read the same, as that which is the very lively word of god, that every christian man is bound to embrace, believe, and follow, if he look to be saved: admonishing them nevertheless to avoid all contention, altercation therein, and to use an honest sobriety in the inquisition of the true sense of the same, and refer the explication of the obscure places to men of higher judgement in scripture. item: that ye shall every sunday and holy day through the year openly and plainly recite to your parishoners, twice or thrice together or oftener, if need require, one particle or sentence of the pater noster, or creed in english, to the intent that they may learn the same by heart. and so from day to day, to give them one little lesson or sentence of the same, till they have learned the whole pater noster and creed in english by rote. and as they be taught every sentence of the same by rote, ye shall expound and declare the understanding of the same unto them, exhorting all parents and householders to teach their children and servants the same, as they are bound in conscience to do. and that done, ye shall declare unto them the ten commandments, one by one, every sunday and holy-day, till they be likewise perfect in the same. item: that ye shall in confessions every lent examine every person that cometh to confession unto you, whether they can recite the articles of our faith, and the pater noster in english, and hear them say the same particularly; wherein if they be not perfect, ye shall declare to the same, that every christian person ought to know the same before they should receive the blessed sacrament of the altar; and monish them to learn the same more perfectly by the next year following, or else, like as they ought not to presume to come to god's board without perfect knowledge of the same, and if they do, it is to the great peril of their souls; so ye shall declare unto them, that ye look for other injunctions from the king's highness by that time, to stay and repel all such from god's board as shall be found ignorant in the premisses; whereof ye do thus admonish them, to the intent they should both eschew the peril of their souls, and also the worldly rebuke that they might incur after by the same. item: that ye shall make, or cause to be made, in the said church, and any other cure ye have, one sermon every quarter of the year at least, wherein ye shall purely and sincerely declare the very gospel of christ, and in the same exhort your hearers to the works of charity, mercy, and faith, especially prescribed and commanded in scripture, and not to repose their trust or affiance in any other works devised by men's fantasies besides scripture; as in wandering to pilgrimages, offering of money, candles, or tapers, to images, or reliques; or kissing or licking the same over, saying over a number of beads, not understanded or minded on, or in such like superstition: for the doing whereof, ye not only have no promise or reward in scripture, but contrariwise great threats and maledictions of god, as things tending to idolatry and superstition, which of all other offences god almighty doth most detest and abhor, for that same diminisheth most of his honour and glory. item: that such feigned images as ye know in any of cures to be so abused with pilgrimages or offerings of anything made thereunto, ye shall, for avoiding the most detestable offence of idolatry, forthwith take down, and without delay; and shall suffer from henceforth no candles, tapers, or images of wax to be set afore any image or picture, but only the light that commonly goeth across the church by the rood-loft, the light before the sacrament of the altar, and the light about the sepulchre; which for the adorning of the church and divine service ye shall suffer to remain: still admonishing your parishoners, that images serve for none other purpose, but as to be books of unlearned men, that ken no letters, whereby they might be otherwised admonished of the lives and conversation of them that the said images do represent: which images if they abuse, for any other intent than for such remembrances, they commit idolatry in the same, to the great danger of their souls: and therefore the king's highness graciously tendering the weal of his subjects' souls, hath in part already, and more will hereafter, travail for the abolishing of such images as might be an occasion of so great an offence to god, and so great a danger to the souls of his loving subjects. item: that you, and every parson, vicar or curate within this diocese, shall for every church keep one book or register, wherein he shall write the day and year of every wedding, christening, and burying, made within your parish for your time, and so every man succeeding you likewise; and also there insert every persons name that shall be so wedded, christened, and buried; and for the safe keeping of the same book the parish shall be bound to provide, of their common charges, one sure coffer with two locks and keys, whereof the one to remain with you, and the other with the wardens of every such parish wherein the said book shall be laid up: which book ye shall every sunday take forth, and in the presence of the said wardens or one of them write a record in the same, all the weddings, christenings, and buryings made the whole week afore; and that done to lay up the book in the said coffer as afore. and for every time that the same be omitted, the party that shall be in the fault thereof, shall forfeit to the said church s. d. to be employed on the reparation of the said church. item: that no person shall from henceforth alter or change the order and manner of any fasting-day that is commanded and indicted by the church, nor of any prayer or of divine service, otherwise than is specified in the said injunctions, until such time as the same shall be so ordered and transported by the king's highness' authority. the eves of such saints whose holy-days be abrogated be only excepted, which shall be declared henceforth to be no fasting-days; excepted also the commemoration of thomas becket, sometime archbishop of canterbury, which shall be clean omitted, and in the stead thereof the ferial[ ] service used. item: where in times past men have used in divers places in their processions, to sing _ora pro nobis_ to so many saints, that they had no time to sing the good suffrages following, as _pace nobis domine_ and _libera nos domine_, it must be taught and preached, that better it were to omit _ora pro nobis_, and to sing the other suffrages. all which and singular injunctions i minister unto you and your successors, by the king's highness' authority to be committed in this part, which i charge and command you by the same authority to observe and keep upon pain of deprivation, sequestration of your fruits or such other coercion as to the king's highness, or his vice-gerent for the time being shall seem convenient. [footnote : = festival.] act for the dissolution of the greater monasteries ( ). +source.+-- h. viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) where divers and sundry abbots, priors, abbesses, prioresses, and other ecclesiastical governors and governesses of divers monasteries, abbacies, priories, nunneries, colleges, hospitals, houses of friars, and other ecclesiastical and religious houses and places within this our sovereign lord the king's realm of england and wales, of their own free and voluntary minds, good wills and assents, without constraint, coercion or compulsion of any manner of person or persons, since the fourth day of february, the twenty-seventh year of the reign of our now most dread sovereign lord, by the due order and course of the common laws of this realm of england, and by their sufficient writings of record, under their convent and common seals, have severally given, granted and by the same their writings severally confirmed all their said monasteries, abbacies, priories, nunneries, colleges, hospitals, houses of friars, and other religious and ecclesiastical houses and places and all their sites, circuits and precincts of the same, and all and singular their manors, lordships, granges, manses ... appertaining or in any wise belonging to any such monastery, abbacy, priory, etc. ... by whatsoever name or corporation they or any of them be called, and of what order, habit, religion, or other kind or quality soever they or any of them then were reputed, known or taken; to have and to hold all the said monasteries, abbacies, priories ... etc. to our said sovereign lord, his heirs and successors for ever and the same said monasteries ... etc. voluntarily, as is aforesaid, have renounced, left, and forsaken, and every of them has renounced, left, and forsaken. the six articles act ( ). +source.+-- henry viii. cap. . (_statutes of the realm_, iii. .) ... and forasmuch as in the said parliament, synod, and convocation, there were certain articles, matters, and questions proposed and set for the teaching christian religion, that is to say: first, whether in the most blessed sacrament of the altar remaineth, after the consecration, the substance of bread and wine, or no. secondly, whether it be necessary by god's law that all men should communicate with both kinds or no. thirdly, whether priests, that is to say, men dedicate to god by priesthood, may, by the law of god, marry after or no. fourthly, whether vow of chastity or widowhood, made to god advisedly by man or woman, be, by the law of god, to be observed, or no. fifthly, whether private masses stand with the law of god, and be to be used and continued in the church and congregation of england, as things whereby good christian people may and do receive both godly consolation and wholesome benefits or no. sixthly, whether auricular confession is necessary to be retained, continued, used and frequented in the church or no. the king's most royal majesty, most prudently providing and considering, that by occasion of variable sundry opinions and judgements of the said articles, great discord and variance has arisen, as well amongst the clergy of this his realm, as amongst a great number of vulgar people, his loving subjects of the same, and bring in a full hope and trust, that a full and perfect resolution of the said articles, should make a perfect concord and unity generally amongst all his loving and obedient subjects, of his most excellent goodness, not only commanded that the said articles should be deliberately and advisedly, by his said archbishops, bishops, and other learned men of his clergy, be debated, argued, and reasoned, and their opinions therein to be understood, declared, and known, but also most graciously vouchsafed, in his own princely person, to descend and come into his said high court of parliament and council, and there, like a prince of most high prudence and no less learning, opened and declared, many things of high learning and great knowledge, touching the said articles, matters, and questions, for a unity to be had in the same; whereupon after a great and long, deliberate, and advised disputation and consultation, had and made concerning the said articles, as well by the consent of the king's highness, as by the assent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and other learned men of the clergy in their convocation, and by the consent of the commons in this present parliament assembled, it was and is finally resolved, accorded, and agreed in manner and form following, that is to say: first, that in the most blessed sacrament of the altar, by the strength and efficacy of christ's mighty word (it being spoken by the priest), is present really, under the form of bread and wine, the natural body and blood of our saviour jesus christ, conceived of the virgin mary; and that after the consecration there remaineth no substance of bread or wine, nor any other substances, but the substance of christ, god and man. secondly, that communion in both kinds is not necessary _ad salutem_, by the law of god, to all persons; and that it is to be believed, and not doubted of, but that in the flesh, under the form of bread, is the very blood; and with the blood, under the form of wine, is the very flesh; as well apart, as though they were both together. thirdly, that priests after the order of priesthood received, as afore, may not marry, by the law of god. fourthly, that vows of chastity or widowhood, by man or woman made to god advisedly, ought to be observed by the law of god; and that it exempts them from the liberties of christian people, ordering themselves accordingly, to receive both godly and goodly consolations and benefits; and it is agreable also to god's law. * * * * * * * sixthly, that auricular confession is expedient and necessary to be retained and continued, used and frequented in the church of god. henry viii. and sport ( ). +source.+--holinshed, , ; edward hall, _henry viii_. this year the plague was great and reigned in divers parts of this realm. the king kept his christmas at richmond. the twelfth of january divers gentlemen prepared to just, and the king and one of his privy chamber called william compton secretly armed themselves in the little park of richmond and so came into the justs, unknown to all persons. the king never ran openly before and did exceeding well. master compton chanced to be so sore hurt by edward nevill esquire, brother to the lord of abergavenny, so that he was like to have died. one person there was that knew the king and cried: "god save the king" and with that all the people were astonished, and then the king discovered himself to the great comfort of the people. the king soon after came to westminster and there kept his shrovetide with great banquetings, dancings and other jolly pastimes. in this year also came ambassadors, not only from the king of aragon and castile, but also from the kings of france, denmark, scotland and other places, which were highly welcomed and nobly entertained. it happened on a day that there were certain noble men made a wager to run at the ring and parties were taken, and which party attained or took away the ring oftenest with certain courses, should win the wager. whereof the king's grace hearing, offered to be on the one party with six companions. the ambassadors hearing thereof, were much desirous to see this wager tried, and specially the ambassadors of spain, who had never seen the king in harness. at the day appointed the king was mounted on a goodly courser, trapped in a purple velvet coat, the inner side thereof was wrought with flat gold of damask in the stool, and the velvet on the other side cut in letters, so that the gold appeared as though it had been embroidered with certain reasons[ ] or posies. and on the velvet between the letters were fastened castles and sheafs of arrows of ducat gold with a garment, the sleeves compassed over his harness and his bases of the same work with a great plume of feathers on his head-piece that came down to the arson of his saddle and a great company of fresh gentlemen came in with his grace, richly armed and decked with many other right gorgeously apparelled, the trumpet before them goodly to behold, whereof many strangers (but specially the spaniards) much rejoiced, for they had never seen the king before that time armed. now at his returning, many hearing of his going on maying were desirous to see him shoot, for at that time his grace shot as strong and as great a length as any of his guard. there came to his grace a certain man with bow and arrows, and desired his grace to take the muster of him and to see him shoot, for at that time his grace was contented. the man put the one foot in his bosom, and so did shoot and shot a very good shot and well towards his mark, whereof, not only his grace, but all other greatly marvelled. so the king gave him a reward for his so doing, which person afterwards, of the people and of them in court, was called foot in bosom. the same year in the feast of pentecost, holden at greenwich, that is to say the thursday in the same week, his grace with two other with him, challenged all comers to fight with them at the barriers with target and casting the spear of eight foot long; and that done, his grace with the two said aids to fight every of them twelve strokes with two handed swords with and against all comers, none excepted being a gentleman; where the k. behaved himself so well and delivered himself so valiantly by his hardy prowess and great strength, that the praise and laud was given to his grace and his aids, notwithstanding that divers and strong persons had assailed him and his aids. now when the said progress was finished, his grace, and the queen, with all their whole train, in the month of october following, removed to greenwich. the king not minded to see young gentlemen unexpert in martial feats, caused a place to be prepared within the park of greenwich, for the queen and the ladies to stand and see the fight with battle axes that should be done there, where the king himself armed, fought one grot a gentleman of almaine, a tall man and a good man of arms. and then after they had done, they marched always two and two together, and so did their feats and enterprises every man very well. albeit, it happened the said grot to fight with sir edward howard, which grot was by him stricken to the ground. the morrow after this enterprise done, the king with the queen came to the tower of london. and to the intent that there should be no displeasure nor malice be born by any of those gentlemen, who fought with the axe against other, the king gave unto them a certain sum of gold valued at two hundred marks, to make a bank[ ] among themselves withall. the which bank was made at fishmongers hall in thames street, where they all met to the number of four and twenty, all apparelled in one suit or livery, after almaine fashion, that is to say, their outer garments all of yellow satin, yellow hose, yellow shoes, girdles and scabbards, and bonnets with yellow feathers; their garments and hose all cut and lined with white satin and their scabbards wound about with satin. after their bank ended they went by torchlight to the tower and presented themselves before the king who took pleasure to behold them. _p._ . the king about this season was much given to play at tennis and at the dice, which appetite certain crafty persons about him perceiving, brought in frenchmen and lombards to make wagers with him and so lost much money, but when he perceived their craft, he eschewed their company and let them go. _p._ . ... then began the trumpets to sound, and the horses to run, that many a spear was burst, and many a great stripe given, and for a truth the king exceedeth in number of staves all other every day of the three days. edward hall, _h. viii_. the x day of march the king having a new harness made of his own device and fashion, such as no armour before that time had seen, thought to essay the same at the tilt, and appointed a justes to serve him. on foot were appointed the lord marquis dorset and the earl of surrey, the king came to the one end of the tilt, and the duke of suffolk to the other: then a gentleman said to the duke, "sir, the king is come to the tilt's end." "i see him not," said the duke, "on my faith, for my head piece taketh away from me my sight": with these words god knoweth by what chance, the king had his spear delivered him by the lord marquis, the visor of his head piece being up and not down or fastened, so that his head was clean naked. then the gentleman said to the duke, "sir, the king cometh," then the duke set forward and charged his spear, and the king likewise unadvisedly set toward the duke: the people perceiving the king's face bare, cried, "hold, hold," the duke neither saw nor heard, and whether the king remembered that his visor was up or no, few can tell. alas what sorrow was it to the people when they saw the splinters of the duke's spear strike on the king's head piece. for of a surety the duke struck the king on the brow right under the defence of the head-piece on the very coif scull or bassenet-piece[ ] where unto the barbet[ ] for power and defence is charneld, to which coif or bassenet never armourer taketh heed, for it is evermore covered with the visor, barbet and volant piece,[ ] and so that piece is so defended that it forceth of no charge: but when the spear on that place lighted, it was great jeopardy of death, insomuch that the face was bare, for the duke's spear broke all to shivers, and bare the king's visor or barbet so far back by the counter buff that all the king's head-piece was full of splinters. the armourers for this matter were much blamed, and so was the lord marquis for the delivering of the spear when his face was open, but the king said that none was to blame but himself, for he intended to have saved himself and his sight. the duke incontinently unarmed him, and came to the king, shewing him the closeness of his sight, and swore that he would never run against the king more: but if the king had been a little hurt, the king's servants would have put the duke in jeopardy. then the king called his armourers and put all his pieces together and then took a spear and ran six courses very well, by the which all men might perceive that he had no hurt, which was great joy and comfort to all his subjects there present. [footnote : = mottoes.] [footnote : = banquet.] [footnote : = a close-fitting helmet.] [footnote : = the lower part of the visor.] [footnote : = a removable part of the helmet, which covered the throat.] the attainder of thomas cromwell ( ). +source.+--burnet's _history of the reformation_, part i., book iii.; _collection of records_, no. ; from the _parliament rolls_, act , h. viii. thomas cromwell, now earl of essex, whom your majesty took and received into your trusty service, the same thomas then being a man of very base and low degree, and for singular favour, trust and confidences which your majesty bare and had in him, did not only erect and advance the same thomas unto the state of an earl, and enriched him with manifold gifts, as well of goods, as of lands and offices, but also him, the said thomas cromwell, earl of essex, did erect and make one of your most trusty counsellors, as well concerning your graces most supreme jurisdictions ecclesiastical, as your most high secret affairs temporal. nevertheless, your majesty now of late hath found, and tried, by a large number of witnesses, being your faithful subjects and personages of great honour, worship and discretion, the said thomas cromwell, earl of essex contrary to the singular trust and confidence your majesty had in him, to be the most false, and corrupt traitor, deceiver, and circumventor against your most royal person, and the imperial crown of this your realm, that hath been known, seen or heard of in all the time of your most noble reign: insomuch that it is manifestly proved and declared, by the depositions of the witnesses aforesaid that the same thomas cromwell, earl of essex, usurping upon your kingly estate, power, authority, and office: without your grace's command or assent hath taken upon him to set at liberty divers persons, being convicted and attained of misprision of high treason; and divers other being apprehended, and in prison, for suspection of high treason, and over that, divers and many times, at sundry places in this your realm, for manifold sums of money to him given, most traitorously hath taken upon him by several writings to give and grant, as well unto aliens, as to your subjects, a great number of licences for conveying and carrying of money, corn, grain, beans, beer, leather, tallow, bells, metals, horses, and other commodities of this your realm, contrary to your highness' most godly and gracious proclamations made for the commonwealth of your people of this your realm in that behalf, and in derogation of your crown and dignity. and the same thomas cromwell, elated, and full of pride, contrary to his most bounden duty, of his own authority and power, not regarding your majesty royal; and further taking upon him your power, sovereign lord, in that behalf, divers and many times most traitorously hath constituted, deputed, and assigned, many singular persons of your subjects to be commissioners in many your great, urgent, and weighty causes and affairs, executed and done in this your realm, without the assent, knowledge, or consent of your highness. and further also, being a person of as poor and low degree, as few be within this your realm; pretending to have so great a stroke about you, our, and his natural sovereign liege lord, that he let not to say publickly, and declare that he was sure of you, which is detestable, and to be abhorred amongst all good subjects in any christian realm, that any subject should enterprise or take upon him so to speak of his sovereign liege lord and king. and also of his own authority and power, without your highness' consent, hath made and granted, as well to strangers as to your own subjects, divers and many pass-ports, to pass over the seas, with horses, and great sums of money, without any search. most gracious sovereign lord, the same thomas cromwell, earl of essex, hath allured and drawn unto him by retainours, many of your subjects sunderly inhabiting in every of your said shires and territories, as well as erroneously persuading and declaring to them the contents of false erroneous books, to be good, true, and best standing with the most holy word and pleasure of god; as other his false and heretical opinions and errors; whereby, and by his confederacies therein, he hath caused many of your faithful subjects to be greatly infected with heresies, and other errors, contrary to the right laws and pleasure of almighty god. and the same thomas cromwell, earl of essex, by the false and traitorous means above-written, supposing himself to be fully able, by force and strength, to maintain and defend his said abominable treasons, heresies, and errors, not regarding his most bounden duty to almighty god, and his laws, nor the natural duty of allegiance to your majesty, in the last day of march in the th year of your most gracious reign, in the parish of st. peter the poor, within your city of london, upon demonstration and declaration then and there made unto him, that there were certain new preachers, as robert barnes, clerk, and others, whereof part were committed to the tower of london, for preaching and teaching of lewd learning against your highness' proclamations; the same thomas affirming the same preacher to be good, most detestably, arrogantly, erroneously, wilfully, maliciously, and traitorously, expressly against your laws and statutes, then and there did not let to declare, and say, these most traitorous and detestable words ensuing, amongst other words of like matter and effect; that is to say, that _if the king would turn from it yet i would not turn; and if the king did turn, and all his people, i would fight in the field in mine own person, with my sword in my hand, against him and all others_; and then and there, most traitorously pulled out his dagger, and held it on high, saying these words: _or else this dagger thrust me to the heart, if i would not die in the quarrel against them all; and i trust, if i live one year or two, it shall not lie in the king's power to resist or let it if he would_. and further, then and there swearing by a great oath, traitorously affirmed the same his traitorous saying and pronunciation of words saying, _i will do so indeed_, extending up his arm, as though he had had a sword in his hand; to the most perilous, grievous, and wicked example of all other your loving, faithful and obedient subjects in this your realm, and to the peril of your most royal person. and moreover, our most gracious sovereign lord, the said thomas cromwell, earl of essex, hath acquired and obtained into his possession, by oppression, bribery, extort, power, and false promises made by him, to your subjects of your realm, innumerable sums of money and treasure; and being so enriched, hath had your nobles of your realm in great disdain, derision, and detestation, as by express words by him most opprobriously spoken hath appeared. and being put in remembrance of others, of his estate, which your highness hath called him unto, offending in like treasons, the last day of january, in the year of your most noble reign, at the parish of st. martin's in the field, in the county of middlesex, most arrogantly, willingly, maliciously, and traitorously, said, published, and declared, that _if the lord would handle him so, that he would give them such a breakfast as never was made in england, and that the proudest of them should know_; to the great peril and danger, as well of your majesty, as of your heirs and successors. for the which his most detestable and abominable heresies and treasons, and many other his like offences and treasons over-long here to be rehearsed and declared: be it enacted, ordained, and established by your majesty, with the assent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that the said thomas cromwell, earl of essex, for his abominable and detestable heresies and treasons, by him most abominably, heretically, and traitorously practised, committed, and done, as well against almighty god, and against your majesty, and this your said realm, shall be, and stand, by authority of this present parliament, convicted and attainted of heresie and high treason, and be adjudged an abominable and detestable heretick and traitor; and shall have and suffer such pains of death, losses and forfeitures of goods, debts and chattels, as in cases of heresy and high treason, or as in cases of either of them, at the pleasure of your most royal majesty. hertford's orders for the navy and army. (april th, .) +source.+--_hamilton papers_, no. , vol. ii., h.m. general register house, edinburgh. . wafters[ ] appointed for the vawarde: the "pauncye," the "minion," the "swallow," the "gabian" of ipswich, the "john evangeliste," the "gallye subtile," harwoddes "barke of calais" to attend upon the "pauncye." wafters appointed for the battell: the "swepestake," the "swanne" of hamburghe, the "mary grace," the "elizabeth" of lynne, cumberfordes shippe. wafters appointed for the rerewarde: the "great galley," the "gillian" of dartmouth, the "peter" of fowery, the "anthony fulford," the "bark riveley." orders taken at the shelys within tynemouth haven, the xxviiith day of april in the xxxvith year of the reign of our sovereign lord king henry the eighth, by the earl of hertford, great chamberlain of england, his highness' lieutenant in the north parties, and captain-general of his majesty's army by sea and land at this present against the scots. . first, his lordship in the king's majesty's name, straightly chargeth and commandeth, that all captains, with their soldiers and mariners, shall be in readiness on shipboard in such ships as they be appointed unto by the said lord lieutenant, according to such proclamations as have been made in his lordship's name for that purpose, to the intent that every such ship may weigh anchor with the first prosperous wind that god shall send to depart. . item, the lord admiral, with certain wafters with him, shall be foremost of the fleet, bearing in his fore top-mast a flag of st. george's cross, and in the night ii lights of a good height in his ship. and all those ships (whose captains with their soldiers be appointed to the vaward, whereof the said lord admiral is chieftain) shall as near as they can follow the said lord admiral. and at such time as the said lord admiral shall come to an anchor, all the ships of the vaward shall likewise come to an anchor, as near unto his ship as they may conveniently. . item, the said lord lieutenant hath appointed his own ship, and the ship which the king's treasure is in, to make sail next unto the fleet of the vaward, and all such ships (whose captains with their soldiers, are appointed to be about his person in the battell) shall follow his lordship as near as they can, and shall come to an anchor as near as they can about him. and his lordship hath ordained to have upon his main top-mast a flag of saint george's cross, and every night two lights on high in his shrouds, and one above his main top, to the intent that every man may know his lordship's ship from all other, as well by night as by day. . item, next unto the said fleet of battell, the earl of shrewsbury (whom the said lord lieutenant hath appointed to be chieftain of the rearwarde) shall make sail, bearing upon his mizzen top mast one flag of st. george's cross, and every night in the prow of his ship, one cressitt[ ] burning, to the intent all the fleet appointed to the rereward may know the said earl of shrewsbury his ship from all others. . item, when the said lord lieutenant would have the lord admiral to come on board his ship, his lordship hath appointed to put out a flag above his forecastle. and when his lordship would have the captain of the rearward to come on board his ship, his pleasure is to set out a flag on the poop of his ship. and when his lordship would have all the captains of the middle ward to come on board his ship, he hath appointed to set out a banner of counsel against the midst of his mainmast. and forbecause, that every captain of the vaward shall have better knowledge of the tokens afforerehersed, his lordship straightly chargeth and commandeth, that no ship shall spread any flag in any place above the hatches, nor bear any lights in the night above the decks, other than the said lord lieutenant's own ship, the lord admiral's ship, and the captain of the rereward his ship as aforesaid. . item, that if any ship or crayer chance by tempest of weather or other cause to be put from the fleet, the same ships or crayers shall resort to the firth, as they will answer for the contrary at their perils. . item, that every captain, as well of the vaward, rereward and battell, shall cause their boats to be in readiness for the landing of their men, when they shall be commanded by the said lord lieutenant or the said chieftaines. and that every captain (whose ship hath any baseis or double verseis)[ ] shall cause a trestle to be made in the fore part of his boat with ii halys[ ] to carye ii baseis or verseis, for the more annoyance of their enemies at landing. officers to be appointed. my lord admiral--the chieftain of the vawarde. the earl of shrewsbury--the chieftain of the rearewarde. sir rafe sadler--treasurer of the wars. sir rise mansfield--the knight marshall.[ ] constable--the provost marshall.[ ] sir christopher morris--the master of these ordinances. le [words omitted]--captain of the pioneers. sir anthony hungerford--the captain of the scout. item, vii captains to have the rule of the watch,--every night one of them to watch, and the scouts from time to time to send him advertisements. nevell. item, one principal man to have the rule and charge of the victuals, that the soldiers may have it for their money. gower and everard. item, one to be appointed, as well to see the bringing of the victuals to the market, as also to order such others as shall come to the market by any other means. to land , men as followeth: harquebusiers, ; archers, ; pikes, ; bills, . . and these to be supported with the rest as they may land. ordenance to be landed before we march. fawcons,[ ] ; fawconetes,[ ] ; close waggons, . . the vawarde. harquebusiers, ; archers, ; pikes, ; bills, . . the battell. harquebusiers, ; archers, ; pikes, ; bills, . . the rearewarde. harquebusiers, ; archers, ; pikes, ; bills, . . to land , men at two places at one instant, as near as they can together and at either place, these numbers following: harquebusiers, ; archers, ; pikes, ; bills, . . [footnote : = transport boats.] [footnote : = an iron basket containing inflammable material, often a coil of tarred rope.] [footnote : _i.e._ "base and verse" = small light cannons.] [footnote : = ropes?] [footnote : these officials were responsible for the discipline; the former for the officers, and the latter for the men.] [footnote : = a ten pounder.] [footnote : = a five pounder.] hertford and others to henry viii. a. (may th, .) +source.+--_hamilton papers_, no. . please it your highness to understand that i the earl of hertford with your majesty's army here, marched out of this toun on wednesday last, towards edinburgh, and being set forwards, came to me an herald and trumpet from the provost and council of the toun, declaring on their behalf that they would set open the gates and deliver the keys unto me to do with the toun and them what i would, upon trust that i would be good lord unto them and save their lives and goods without burning or spoil of the toun, which should make no resistance unto me. i told him forasmuch as they had before refused so to do, and had made me resolute answer that unless i would capitulate with them in what sort i would use them and their toun, they would not yield the same, but make resistances, which i took for a final resolution, i would therefore remain now at my liberty to do as i thought good when i came there; and therewith i asked, whether they would also undertake and promise for to deliver the castle? whereunto he answered that it was out of his power to deliver the castle, but for the toun which was in their hands, it should be at my commandment. whereupon i willed them to return, and to say unto the said provost and council that if they would render all to my will, they should forthwith avoid the toun of man, woman and childe, and at mine entry into the toun, if they did meet me and submit themselves, i would then do as i saw cause. whereupon he departed, and soon after when i came near to the toun, the provost and others of the toun with him, came to me and required me to be good lord unto them and their toun, which should be committed unto me without resistance, trusting that i would save their lives and goods, and not burn nor spoil their toun. i made them in effect like answer as before i made to the herald, but being much pressed by them for the safetie of them and their toun with their goods as aforesaid, i willed them to return, saying that at mine entry within the toun, upon their submission and delivery of the keys as they offered, i would then use them with the more favour, as at my coming to the gates of the toun i would further declare. they returned with this answer, and i supposed verily that they would in this sort have delivered and yielded the toun; but immediately after, as soon as we were marched hard to the toun, the inhabitants of the suburbs raised a fire and a great smoke in one or two of their own houses betwixt us and the toun, and forthwith after, i had intelligence that they would defend and withstand us to their power. whereupon i the said earl caused me the lord admiral with the forward to march into the toun, who passed through the suburbs to the principal port of the toun, being an iron gate and well fortified with men and ordinance, which they shot so fast that some of our men being killed in the streets with the same, the rest began to shrink and retire, but that the gentlemen and others of the foreward, your majesty's servants, gave the onset and made so sharp assault and approach hard to the gate, that they recovered one piece of their artillery, and by violence drew it from them through the loops, where the same did lie in the gate. nevertheless the scots shot out of their windows and holes of their houses so fast with hand-guns, that our men being so astonied therewith, shot again at adventure, and did more hurt to their own fellows than to the enemys, whereby it chanced that one hit my lord william with an arrow above the cheek, but the stroke was so faint and weakly shot that, thanked be god, it did him little or no hurt at all. in fine the said lord admiral having caused sir christopher morris to lay ordinance to the said gate, after three or iiii shots of a culverin, the gate flew open and our men entered the toun with such good courage, as all the enemies fled away, and many of them were slain, we think about vi or vii score at the least. and being thus entered within the toun, and our enemies discomfited, although i the said earl had before taken order, that after the winning of the toun and the entry into the same, they should proceed no farther, nor make assault to the castle, till upon a future advice, yet when the said gate was thus won and opened with the ordinance, the gunners of their own courage, without advice or commandment of me the said earl, and without the knowledge of one the lord admiral, made forthwith an approach with their battery pieces to the castle of edinburgh, and shot of a little while to the same; but the castle being so strong and the approach so dangerous on all sides, that it is not possible for men to stand to their pieces without utter destruction, the scots with their shot both of cannon and other pieces out of the castle, slew our men and dismounted one of our pieces. so that i the said earl perceiving the same, caused mr. lee and the surveyor of calais to view the approach, who said that the same was so dangerous, as the castle seemed to be impregnable without a long demour and tarrying upon it; for there could be, as they said, no case devised for the approach, but that the same must needs be so open upon the shot of the castle, as without the great loss of men it could not be entered, the ground being of hard rock, so that there was no earth to fill mounds with, nor yet to trench on, and notwithstanding all the shot that sir christopher morris made, which endured almost two hours, the walls of the castle seemed so strong as they were little or nothing battered or impaired with the same. whereupon i the said earl caused him to retire and withdraw all his pieces of artillery saving that which was dismounted, which could not be lead away, the place being so dangerous, as men could not stand to mount the same again, and therefore i caused him to break it with over charge. and as soon as the ordinance was thus withdrawn and set forwards, i commanded the captains and soldiers to set fire in the toun, which being so raised in sundry parts, the soldiers fell into such a sudden rage and fear, that what by reason of the shot out of the castle, which beateth full upon the toun, and killed sundry of our soldiers, and again with such exclamations and cryings out upon no ground or cause, they began to flee so fast out of the toun, as by reason of the straight passage at the gate, the throng and press was so great, that one of them was like to destroy another; whereof was like to have grown some mischief and confusion. and if the smoke had not been such in the toun as blinded the scots so that the same could not see the confusion and throng of our soldiers, undoubted with their shot they might have slain a great number of your people. but god be thanked, at last it was well appeased with much ado, and having made a jolly fire and smoke upon the toun, i the said earl with your highness' army returned to our camp in this toun. and in this enterprise we lost not in all past xx men, but by reason of the said confusion amongst the soldiers the time passed and night came so fast on, that we could not tarry so long upon the burning of the toun throughout, as we would have done, though it be metely well smoked, and therefore we left it for that time. but yesterday arrived here the warden of the east and middle marches, with the horsemen to the number of four thousand at the least, and this day i the said earl have eftsoons visited the said toun of edinburgh, which had chosen them a new provost, and intending to make a new resistance, had repaired the said chief port of the toun with stone and earth and stood somewhat stoutly to their defence. nevertheless they were so well assaulted and quickly handled that the gate was soon set upon with our artillery and the toun won once again. in which assault were slain iiii or v hundred scots, and but vii of our men lacking, thanks be to god. so that we trust your majesty's commission given to me the said earl for the burning of the said toun, is now well executed, for the toun and also the abbey of holyrood house is in manner wholly brent and desolate; which considering the dangerous entry into the same town by reason of the shot of the castle, we found to be a far more difficult and dangerous enterprise than before hath been supposed. and whiles the toun was thus brenning, and we standing upon the hill without the toun to view the same, we might well hear the women and poor miserable creatures of the toun make exclamation and cryings out upon the cardinal in these words: "wa worthe the cardinal."[ ] and also your horsemen since their arrival here have ridden abroad in the country and brent round about within v miles compass hereabouts and have gotten good booties, both of cattle and also ready money and plate to a good value and substance.... and finally, having made such devastation of the country hereabouts as your majesty hath commanded, i shall then proceed to the execution of the rest of my charge in our return home by land, which i trust shall be accomplished to your highness' honour and contentment. thus almighty god preserve your majesty in your royal estate most felicitously to endure. at leith the ixth of may. your majesty's humble subjects and most bounden servants, e. hertford, john lisle, rafe sadleyr. b. (may .) +source.+--_hamilton papers_, no. , vol. ii. please it your highness to understand that like as we wrote in our last letters to your majesty our determination to depart from leith homewards by land with your army upon thursday last, and so to devastate the country by the way in our return as we might conveniently, so have we now accomplished the same. and first before our departure from leith having brent edinburgh and sundry other towns and villages in those parties as we wrote in our said last letters,--we did likewise burn the town of leith, the same morning that we departed thence, and such ships and boats as we found in the haven, meet to be brought away, we have conveyed thence by sea, and the rest are brent; and have also destroyed and brent the pier and haven. which damages we think they shall not be able to recover in our time. and in our way homewards we have brent the town of musselborough, preston, seton, with lord seton's principal house, himself being pricking aloof from us with a certain number of horsemen, so that he will see his own house and his own toun on fire, and also we have brent the touns of haddington and dunbar, which we dare assure your majesty be well burnt, with as many other piles, gentlemen's and others houses and villages as we might conveniently reach, within the limits or compass of our way homewards. and always had such respect towards the keeping of good order and array in our marching, as notwithstanding the scots would daily prick about us, and make as many proud shows and braggs, they could take us at none advantage. and yesterday the lords hume and seton, and also as we were informed, the earl of bothwell, had assembled together the number of two thousand horsemen and vi thousand footmen, and were once determined to have stopped us at the pease, which is a very straight and ill passage for an army, assuring your majesty that three thousand men, being men of heart, and having captains of any policy or experience of the wars, might keep and defend the said passage against a greater power than we had. nevertheless being the said scots assembled and determined as is aforesaid, to keep that passage, when they saw your majesty's army and power marching towards them in an honest order and in such sort as they might well perceive were fully bent and determined to assault them, they did immediately disperse and scale themselves in our sight, and gave us the passage without resistance. and so this journey is accomplished to your majesty's honour. touching the castle of temptallen, like as we wrote to your highness what we have done to sir george douglas in the same, so have i the earl of hertford since that time received letters from the earl of angus and the said sir george, which i send herewith to your majesty; and what shall be your majesty's further pleasure to have done in that behalf, i shall accomplish accordingly; and would right gladly have returned by temptallen, and made some countenance of assault to the same, but that partly i forbare and tarried for the said answer, and chiefly i was constrained to leave it for lack of carriages for great pieces of artillery and also for lack of powder; and besides that we were so disfurnished by carriages for our victuals, that we were not able to carry so much with us, as might serve us for any longer time than that we might march home. and yet having made as good shift and provision for the same as we could for our lives, the soldiers, ere we came half-way home, were fain to drink water the residue of the way which they did with as good will as ever did men, and as well content to endure labour and pain, without grudging at the same. these respects and lacks enforced us to leave both temptallen and hume castles much against our wills, and to make the haste we could homewards for avoiding of more inconvenience. so that this night we arrived here at berwick with our whole army, and shall forthwith dissolve the same, to the intent your highness may the sooner be exonerated of your great charges sustained in that behalf. finally, we have received letters since our arrival here from the lords of your majesty's council, by the which it appeareth that your highness' pleasure to have soldiers chosen out of this army to be transported hence to calais to serve your highness in france,--whereupon i the said earl have called sundry of the captains afore me, and appointed such as i thought most meet with their numbers for that purpose. assuring your majesty that though the gentlemen are most willing to serve, yet they declare their necessity to be such, which indeed is most evident,--as we see not how it is possible to furnish the said number presently from these parts, to be transported to calais, unless the gentlemen and their men might have time to go home and prepare and furnish themselves in such sort as they might be able to serve your majesty to your honour and their honesties. for having in this journey spent all their money, they say that of force they must go home to make shift for more, and they have neither tents nor pavilions here; for because this enterprise into scotland was by sea, all gentlemen had special commandment to bring no carriages with them, so that few or none brought any pavilion hither. and as for the soldiers having lain nightly in their clothes, since they came from home being now the space of two months, and for this fortnight, every night in the fields without covering, they have the most part of them, what with cold and great travail and scant victualling have caught such diseases both in their bodies and swelling in their legs, and be so wearied with labour and pain that few or none of them be meet to go to the seas, nor yet able to serve your majesty when they come to land to your honor. and besides that they be so far out of apparrell both in shirts, doublets, coats, and all other things, having also no money to furnish the same, that their captains cannot with honesty bring them to the field in such plight. so that except they might have time to refresh themselves, both to get health and such necessary furniture as they now want, undoubtedly we see not how it is possible to pick out the said number of of such men as may be sent with honesty to serve your highness purpose,--as i the said lord admiral shall declare unto your majesty at my coming. in the mean season, we have appointed here harquebusiers, which be as forward and apt men to serve in strait feat as ever we saw, and also of the lord cobham's men, pioneers under the conduct of mr. lee and of sir christopher mone's men, besides of those that come by sea, over and above reserved to keep the sea, so that the whole number that can be had here is men, which shall forthwith be embarked and transported to calais, according to your majesty's pleasure. and this is as much as can be done here in that behalf, without a longer respect as is aforesaid. thus almighty god preserve your majesty in your royal estate most felicitously to endure. at berwick the xviiith of may and ix o'clock within night. your majesty's humble subjects and most bounden servants. (signed) e. hertford, john lisle, rafe sadleyr. [footnote : _i.e._ cardinal beaton, leader of the french party in scotland.] attempted invasion of england by the french ( ). +source.+--holinshed, p. . the same month also the lord lisle admiral of england with the english fleet entered the mouth of the seine, and came before newhaven, where a great navy of the frenchmen lay, to the number of a two hundred ships, and six and twenty gallies, whereof the pope (as was reported) had sent twenty well furnished with men and money to the aid of the french king. the englishmen being not past an hundred and threescore sail, and all great ships, determined not to set upon the frenchmen where they lay: but yet approaching near unto them, shot off certain pieces of ordinance at them, and thereby caused the gallies to come abroad, which changed shot again with the englishmen. the gallies at the first had great advantage, by reason of the great calm. thrice either part assaulted other with shot of their great artillery, but suddenly the wind rose so high, that the gallies could not endure the rage of the seas, and so the englishmen for fear of flats were compelled to enter the main seas and so sailed unto portsmouth where the king lay, for he had knowledge of his espials that the frenchmen intended to land in the isle of wight, wherefore he repaired to that coast, to see his realm defended. after this, the eighteenth of july the admiral of france monseiur danebalte hoisted up sails, and with his whole navy came forth into the seas, and arrived on the coast of sussex before bright hamsteed,[ ] and set certain of his soldiers on land to burn and spoil the country: but the beacons were fired and the inhabitants thereabouts came down so thick that the frenchmen were driven to fly with loss of divers of their numbers; so that they did little hurt there. immediately thereupon they made to the point of the isle of wight, called saint helen's point, and there in good order upon their arrival they cast anchors, and sent daily sixteen of their gallies to the very haven of portsmouth. the english navy lying there in the same haven, made them ready, and set out toward the enemies, and still the one shot hotly at the other; but the wind was so calm, that the king's ships could bear no sail, which greatly grieved the minds of the englishmen, and made the enemies more bold to approach with their gallies, and to assail the ships with their shot even within the haven. the twentieth of july, the whole navy of the englishmen made out, and purposed to set on the frenchmen, but in setting forward, through too much folly, one of the king's ships called the _marie rose_ was drowned in the midst of the haven, by reason that she was overladen with ordinance, and had the ports left open, which were very low, and the great artillerie unbreeched so that when the ship should turn, the water entered, and suddenly she sank. in her was sir george carew knight and four hundred soldiers under his guiding. there escaped not past forty persons of all the whole number. on the morrow after about two thousand of the frenchmen landed at the isle of wight, where one of their chief captains named le chevalier daux, a provençois, was slain with many other, and the residue with loss and shame driven back again to their gallies. the king perceiving the great armada of the frenchmen to approach, caused the beacons to be fired, and by letters sent into hamptonshire, summersetshire, wiltshire, and into divers other countries adjoining, gave knowledge to such as were appointed to be ready for that purpose, to come with all speed to encounter the enemies. whereupon they repaired to his presence in great numbers well furnished with armour, weapon, vittels, and all other things necessary, so that the isle was garnished, and all the frontiers along the coasts fortified with exceeding great multitudes of men. the french captains having knowledge by certain fishermen, whom they took, that the king was present, and so huge a power ready to resist them, they disanchored and drew along the coast of sussex, and a small number of them landed again in sussex, of whom few returned to their ships; for divers gentlemen of the country, as sir nicholas pelham, and others, with such power as was raised, upon the sudden, took them up by the way and quickly distressed them. when they had searched everywhere by the coast, and saw men still ready to receive them with battle, they turned stern, and so got them home again without any act achieved worthy to be mentioned. the number of the frenchmen was great, so that divers of them that were taken prisoners in the isle of wight and in sussex did report that they were three score thousand. the french king advertised the emperor most untruly by letters, that his army had gotten the isle of wight with the ports of hamton, and portsmouth, and divers other places. [footnote : _i.e._ brighthelmstone = brighton.] the capture of the barque ager ( ). +source.+--hall's _henry viii_. in this time, there was by the frenchmen a voyage made towards the isle of brazil, with a ship called the barque ager, which they had taken from the englishmen before. and in their way they fortuned to meet suddenly with a little craer, of whom was master one golding, which golding was a fierce and an hardy man. the barque perceiving this small craer to be an englishman, shot at him and boughed him, wherefore the craer drew straight to the great ship, and six or seven of the men leapt into the barque: the frenchmen looking over the board at the sinking of the craer, nothing mistrusting anything, that might be done by the englishmen. and so it fortuned that those englishmen which climbed into the ship, found in the end thereof a great number of lime pots, which they with water quenched, or rather as the nature thereof is, set them a fire, and threw them at the frenchmen that were aboard, and so blinded them, that those few englishmen that entered the ship, vanquished all that were therein, and drove them under hatches, and brought the barque clearly away again into england. speech made by king henry viii. at the opening of parliament ( ). +source.+--edward hall's _henry viii_. although my chancellor for the time being, hath before this time used, very eloquently and substantially, to make answer to such orations, as hath been set forth in this high court of parliament, yet is he not so able to open and set forth my mind and meaning, and the secrets of my heart, in so plain and ample manner, as i myself am and can do; wherefor i taking upon me to answer your eloquent oration, master speaker, say, that where you, in the name of our well-beloved commons hath both praised and extolled me, for the notable qualities that you have conceived to be in me, i most heartily thank you all, that you have put me in remembrance of my duty, which is to endeavour myself to obtain and get such excellent qualities, and necessary virtues, as a prince or governor, should or ought to have, of which gifts i recognize myself both bare and barren; but of such small qualities as god hath endued me withal, i render to his goodness my most humble thanks, intending with all my wit and diligence, to get and acquire to me such notable virtues and princely qualities as you have alleged to be incorporate in my person. these thanks for your loving admonition and good counsel first remembered, eftsoons thank you again, because that you, considering our great charges (not for our pleasure, but for your defences, not for our gain, but to our great cost), which we have lately sustained, as well in defence of our and your enemies, as for the conquest of that fortress, which was to this realm, most displeasant and noisome, and shall be by god's grace hereafter, to our nation most profitable and pleasant, have freely of your own mind, granted to us a certain subsidy specified in a certain act, which verily we take in good part, regarding more your kindness, than the profit thereof, as he that setteth more by your loving hearts, than by your substance. besides this hearty kindness, i cannot a little rejoice when i consider the perfect trust and sure confidence which you have put in me, as men having undoubted hope and unfeigned belief in my good doings and just proceedings for you, without my desire or request, have committed to mine order and disposition, all chantries, colleges, hospitals, and other places specified in a certain act, firmly trusting that i will order them to the glory of god, and the profit of the commonwealth. surely if i contrary to your expectation, should suffer the ministers of the church to decay, or learning (which is so great a jewel) to be ministered, or poor and miserable people to be unrelieved, you might say that i being put in so special a trust, as i am in this case, were no trusty friend to you, nor charitable man to mine even christian,[ ] neither a lover of the public wealth, nor yet one that feared god, to whom account must be rendered of all our doings. doubt not i pray you, but your expectation shall be served, more godly and goodly than you will wish or desire, as hereafter you shall plainly perceive. now sithence i find such kindness on your part towards me, i can not chose but love and favour you, affirming that no prince in the world more favoureth his subjects, than i do you, nor no subjects or commons more, love and obey, their sovereign lord, than i perceive you do me, for whose defence my treasure shall not be hidden, nor yf necessity require my person shall not be unadventured; yet although i with you, and you with me, be in this perfect love and concord, this friendly amity can not continue, except both you my lords temporal, and you my lords spiritual, and you my loving subjects, study and take pain to amend one thing, which surely is amiss, and far out of order, to the which i most heartily require you, which is, that charity and concord is not amongst you, but discord and dissention beareth rule in every place. s. paul saith to the corinthians, in the xiii chapter, charity is gentle, charity is not envious, charity is not proud, and so forth, in the said chapter: behold then what love and charity is amongst you, when the one calleth the other heretic and anabaptist, and he calleth him again papist, hypocrit and pharisee. be these tokens of charity amongst you? are these the signs of fraternal love between you? no, no, i assure you, that this lack of charity among yourselves, will be the hindrance and assuaging of the fervent love between us, as i said before; except this wound be salved, and clearly made whole, i must needs judge the fault and occasion of this discord to be partly by negligence of you the fathers and preachers of the spirituality. if i see a man boast and bragg himself, i cannot but deem him a proud man. i see and hear daily that you of the clergy preach one against another, teach one contrary to another, inveigh one against another without charity or discretion. some be too stiff in their old mumpsimus, others be too busy and curious in their new sumpsimus. thus all men almost be in variety and discord, and few or none preach truly and sincerely the word of god, according as they ought to do. shall i now judge you charitable persons doing this? no, no, i cannot so do: alas, how can the poor souls live in concord when you preachers sow amongst them in your sermons debate and discord? or if they look for light, and you bring them to darkness? amend these crimes i exhort you, and set forth god's word, both by true preaching, and good example giving, or else i whom god hath appointed his vicar, and high minister here, will see these divisions extinct, and these enormities corrected, according to my very duty, or else i am an unprofitable servant, and untrue officer. although as i say, the spiritual men be in some fault, that charity is not kept amongst you, yet you of the temporality be not clean and unspotted of malice and envy, for you rail on bishops, speak slanderously of priests, and rebuke and taunt preachers, both contrary to good order and christian fraternity. if you know surely that a bishop or preacher erreth or teacheth perverse doctrine, come and declare it to some of our council or to us, to whom is committed by god the high authority to reform and order such causes and behaviours, and be not judges yourselves, of your own phantastical opinions, and vain exposicions, for in such high causes ye may lightly err. and all though you be permitted to read holy scripture, and to have the word of god in your mother tongue, you must understand that it is licensed you so to do, only to inform your own conscience, and to instruct your children and family, and not to dispute and make scripture a railing and a taunting stock, against priests and preachers (as many light persons do). i am very sorry to know and hear, how unreverently that most precious jewel the word of god is disputed, rhymed, sung and jangled in every alehouse and tavern, contrary to the true meaning and doctrine of the same. and yet i am even as much sorry that the readers of the same follow it in doing so faintly and coldly; for of this i am sure, that charity was never so faint amongst you, and vertuous and godly living was never less used, nor god himself amongst christians was never less reverenced, honoured or served. therefore, as i said before, be in charity one with another, like brother and brother, love, dread and serve god (to the which i as your supreme head, and sovereign lord, exhort and require you) and then i doubt not but that love and league that i spake of in the beginning shall never be dissolved or broken between us. and the making of laws, which be now made and concluded, i exhort, you the makers, to be as diligent in putting them in execution, as you were in making and furthering the same, or else your labour shall be in vain, and your commonwealth nothing relieved. now to your petition, concerning our royal assent to be given to such acts as passed both the houses. they shall be read openly, and ye may hear them. [footnote : = my fellow christian.] hugh latimer's sermon on "the ploughers" ( ). +source.+--latimer's _remains and sermons_, corria parker society ( ); "sermon on the ploughers." ... now what shall we say of these rich artisans of london? what shall i say of them? shall i call them proud men of london, malicious men of london, merciless men of london? no, no, i may not say so, they will be offended with me then. yet must i speak. for there is reigning in london as much pride, as much covetousness, as much cruelty, as much oppression, as much superstition, as was in nebo?[ ] yes, i think and much more too. therefore i say, repent o london! repent, repent! thou hearest thy faults told thee; amend them, amend them. and you rulers and officers, be wise and circumspect, look to your charge and see you do your duties and rather be glad to amend your ill living than to be angry when you are warned or told of your fault.... but london cannot abide to be rebuked; such is the nature of man. if they be pricked, they will kick. if they be rubbed on the gall, they will wince. but yet they will not amend their faults, they will not be ill spoken of. but how shall i speak well of them? if you could be content to receive and follow the word of god and favour good preachers, if you could bear to be told of your faults, if you could amend when you hear of them: if you would be glad to reform that is amiss: if i might see any such inclination in you, that leave to be merciless and begin to be charitable, i would then hope well of you, i would then speak well of you. but london was never so ill as it is now. in times past men were full of pity and compassion, but now there is no pity; for in london their brother shall die in the streets for cold, he shall lie sick at their door between stock and stock, i cannot tell what to call it, and perish there for hunger. in times past when any rich man died in london, they were wont to help the poor scholars of the university with exhibition. when any man died, they would bequeathe great sums of money towards the relief of the poor. when i was a scholar at cambridge myself, i heard very good report of london and knew many that had relief of the rich men of london; but now i can hear no such good report and yet i enquire of it and hearken for it, but now charity is waxed cold, none helpeth the scholar nor yet the poor. and in those days what did they when they helped the scholars? many they maintained and gave them livings that were very papists and professed the pope's doctrine; and now that the knowledge of god's word is brought to light, and many earnestly study and labour to set it forth, now almost no man helpeth to maintain them. oh! london! london! repent, repent, for i think god is more displeased with london than ever he was with the city of nebo. amend therefore; and ye that be prelates, look well to your office, for right prelating is busy labouring and not lording. therefore preach and teach and let your plough be doing; ye lords, i say, that live like loiterers, look well to your office; the plough is your office and charge. if you live idle and loiter, you do not your duty, you follow not your vocation; let your plough therefore be going and not cease, that true ground may bring forth good fruit. but now, me thinketh i hear one say unto me, wot you what you say? is it a work? is it a labour? how then hath it happened that we have had so many hundred years so many unpreaching prelates, lording loiterers, and idle ministers? ye would have me here to make answer and to shew the cause thereof. nay, this land is not for me to plough, it is too strong, too thorny, too hard for me to plough. they have so many things that make for them, so many things to lay for themselves, that it is not for my weak team to plough them. they have to lay for themselves long customs and ceremonies and authority, placing in parliament, and many things more. and i feare me this land is not yet ripe to be ploughed. for, as the saying is, it lacketh weathering; at least way it is not for me to plough. for what shall i look for among thornes but pricking and scratching? what among stones, but stumbling? what (i had almost said) among serpents, but stinging? but this much i dare say, that since lording and loitering hath come up, preaching hath come down, contrary to the apostles' times. for they preached and lorded not. and now they lord and preach not. but now for the fault of unpreaching prelates, me thinke, i could guess, what might be said for excusing of them: they are so troubled with lordly living, they be so placed in palaces, couched in courts, ruffling in their rents, dancing in their dominions, and burdened with ambassages, pampering of their paunches like a monk that maketh his jubilee, munching in their mangers and moiling in their gay manors and mansions, and so troubled with loitering in their lordships: that they cannot attend it. they are otherwise occupied, some in the king's matters, some are ambassadors, some of the privy council, some to furnish the court, some are lords of parliament, some are presidents and some are comptrollers of mints. is this their duty? is this their office? should we have ministers of the church to be comptrollers of the mints? is this a meet office for a prieste that hath the cure of souls? is this his charge? i would here ask one question? i would fain know who controlleth the devil at home at his parish while he comptrolleth the mint? if the apostles might not leave the office of preaching to be deacons, shall one leave it for minting? and now i would ask a strange question? who is the most diligent bishop and prelate in all england, that passeth all the rest in doing his office? i can tell, for i know him, who it is; i know him well. but now i think i see you listing and hearkening, that i should name him. there is one that passeth all the other, and is the most diligent prelate and preacher in all england. and will ye know who it is? i will tell you. it is the devil. he is the most diligent preacher of all other, he is never out of his diocese, he is never from his cure, ye shall never find him unoccupied, he is ever in his parish, he keepeth residence at all times, ye shall never find him out of the way; call for him when you will, he is ever at home, the diligentest preacher in all the realm; he is ever at his plough, no lording or loitering can hinder him; he is ever applying his business, ye shall never find him idle, i warrant you. and his office is, to hinder religion, to maintain superstition, to set up idolatry, to teach all kind of popery; he is ready as can be wished to set forth his plough, to devise as many ways as can be, to deface and obscure god's glory. where the devil is resident and hath his plough going: there away with books, and up with candles, yea, at noon-days. where the devil is resident, that he may prevail, up with all superstition and idolatry, sensing, painting of images, candles, palms, ashes, holy water and new service of men's inventing, as though man could invent a better way to honour god with than god himself hath appointed. down with christ's crosse, up with purgatory pick-purse, up with him, the popish purgatory, i mean. away with clothing the naked, the poor and impotent, up with decking of images and gay garnishing of stocks and stones, up with man's traditions and his laws, down with god's tradition and his most holy word. down with the old honour due to god, and up with the new god's honour, let all things be done in latin. there must be nothing but latin, not as much as "memento, homo, quod cinis es, et in cineres reverteris"--remember, man, that thou arte ashes and into ashes thou shalt return. which be the words that the minister speaketh, to the ignorant people, when he giveth them ashes upon ash wednesday, but it must be spoken in latin. god's word may in no wise be translated into english. oh, that our prelates would be as diligent to sow the corn of good doctrine, as satan is to sow cockel and darnel! and this is the devilish ploughing, the which worketh to have things in latin and letteth the fruitful edification. [footnote : a moabite town; see jeremiah xlviii.] the ordinances, statutes and rules made by john lord tiptolfe, earl of worcester, constable of england, by the king's commandment, at windsor on the th of march (circa ). +source.+--from sir j. harrington's _nugae antiquae_, vol. iii., p. , . reserving always to the queen and to the lord president, the attribution and gift of the prizes, after the manner and form accustomed. for their demerits according to the articles ensuing: _how many ways the prize is won._ first, whoso breaketh most spears, as they ought to be broken, shall have the prize. item, whoso breaketh three times, in the sight of the helm, shall have the prize. item, whoso meeteth two times, coronal[ ] to coronal, shall have the prize. item, whoso beareth a man doun with stroke of spear shall have the prize. _how many ways the prize shall be lost._ first, whoso striketh a horse shall have no prize. item, who striketh a man, his back turned, or disarmed of his spear, shall have no prize. item, whoso hitteth the toile[ ] three times shall have no prize. item, whoso unhelms himself two times shall have no prize, unless his horse do fail him. _how broken spears shall be allowed._ first, whoso breaketh a spear between the saddle and the coronal[ ] of the helm shall be allowed for one. item, whoso breaketh a spear from the coronal upwards shall be allowed for two. item, whoso breaketh a spear, so that he striketh his adversary doun, or put him out of his saddle, or disarms him in such wise as he may not run the next course after, or breaketh his spear coronal to coronal shall be allowed as three spears broken. _how spears broken shall be disallowed._ first, whoso breaketh on the saddle shall be disallowed for spear-breaking. item, whoso hitteth the toile once shall be disallowed for two. item, whoso hitteth the toil shall, for that blow the second time be disallowed three. item, whoso breaketh a spear, within a foot to the coronal, shall be adjudged as no spear broken, but a faint attaint.[ ] _for the prize to be given and who shall be preferred._ first, whoso beareth a man doun out of the saddle, or putteth him to the earth, horse and man, shall have the prize before him that striketh coronal to coronal two times. item, he that strikes coronal to coronal two times, shall have the prize before him that strikes the sight three times. item, he that strikes the sight three times shall have the prize before him that breaketh more spears. item, if there be any man that furnisheth in this wise, which shall be deemed to have bidden longest in the field helmed, and to have run the fairest course, and to have given the greatest strokes, and to have holpen himself best with his spear he shall have the prize. john worcester. _at tourney._ two blows at the passage, and ten at the joining, more or less as they make it. all gripings, shocks and foul play forbidden. _how prizes and tourney and barrier are to be lost._ he that giveth a stroke with a pike from the girdle downwards, or under the barrier, shall win no prize. he that shall have a close gauntlet, or anything to fasten his sword to his hand, shall have no prize. he whose sword falleth out of his hand shall win no prize. he that stayeth his hands in fight or the barrier shall win no prize. he whosoever shall fight and doth not shew his sword to the judges before, shall win no prize. yet it is to be understood that the challengers may win all these prizes against the defendants. the maintainers may take aid or assistance of the noblemen, of such as they shall like best. [footnote : coronal = (_a_) the head of a tilting lance of iron, furnished with two, three, or four blunt points, which give a good hold on shield or helmet when striking but do not penetrate; (_b_) the ornamentation on the helmet, to which the plume or crest was usually attached.] [footnote : the barrier separating the two competitors.] [footnote : see note on previous page.] [footnote : attaint was the technical term for a hit.] a little proheme to the book called _grammatica rudimenta_, by dean colet ( ). appendix ix. num. xiii. +source.+--knight's _life of colet_. albeit many have written, and have made certain introductions into latin speech, called donates and accidence in latin tongue and in english, in such plenty that it should seem to suffice; yet nevertheless for the love and zeal that i have to the new school of powles, and to the children of the same, somewhat i have also compiled of the matter, and of the viii parts of grammar have made this little book, not thinking that i could say anything that had been said better before, but i took this business having great pleasure to shew the testimony of my good mind unto that school. in which little work if any new things be of me, it is alonely that i have put these parts in a more clear order, and have made them a little more easy to young wits, than (me thinketh) they were before. judging that nothing may be too soft, nor too familiar for little children, especially learning a tongue unto them all strange. in which little book i have left many things out of purposes, considering the tenderness and small capacity of little minds. and that i have spoken also i have affirmed it none otherwise, but as it happeneth most commonly in the latin tongue. for many be the exceptions, and hard it is anything generally to assure in a speech so various. i pray god all may be to his honour, and to the erudition and profit of children, and my countrymen londoners especially, whom digesting this little work i had alway before mine eyen, considering more, what was for them, than to shew any great cunning, willing to speak the things often before spoken, in such manner as gladly young beginners and tender wits might take and conceive. wherefore i pray you all little babes, all little children learn gladly this little treatise, and commend it diligently unto your memories, trusting of this beginning that ye shall proceed and grow to perfect literature, and come at the last to be great clerks. and lift up your little white hands for me, which prayeth for you to god, to whom be all honour and imperial majesty and glory, amen. glasgow: printed at the university press by robert maclehose and co. ltd. bell's english history source books. _volumes now ready. s. net each._ + - . the welding of the race.+ edited by the rev. john wallis, m.a. + - . the normans in england.+ edited by a. e. bland, b.a. + - . the angevins and the charter.+ edited by s. m. toyne, m.a. + - . the growth of parliament, and the war with scotland.+ edited by w. d. robieson, m.a. + - . war and misrule.+ edited by a. a. locke. + - . york and lancaster.+ edited by w. garmon jones, m.a. + - . the reformation and the renaissance.+ edited by f. w. bewsher, b.a. + - . the age of elizabeth.+ edited by arundell esdaile, m.a. + - . puritanism and liberty.+ edited by kenneth bell, m.a. + - . a constitution in making.+ edited by g. b. perrett, m.a. + - . walpole and chatham.+ edited by k. a. esdaile. + - . american independence and the french revolution.+ edited by s. e. winbolt, m.a. + - . england and napoleon.+ edited by s. e. winbolt, m.a. + - . peace and reform.+ edited by a. c. w. edwards, m.a., christ's hospital. + - . commercial politics.+ by r. h. gretton. + - . palmerston to disraeli.+ edited by ewing harding, b.a. + - . imperialism and mr. gladstone.+ edited by r. h. gretton, m.a. + - . canada.+ edited by james munro, lecturer at edinburgh university. +a source-book of london history.+ by p. meadows, m.a. s. d. net. bell's scottish history source books. + - . the scottish covenanters.+ edited by j. pringle thomson, m.a. + - . the jacobite rebellions.+ edited by j. pringle thomson, m.a. london: g. bell and sons, ltd. * * * * * * transcriber's note: apparent typographical errors have been corrected. the use of hyphens has been rationalised. notices of other books in the series have been moved to the end of the text. transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. * * * * * [illustration: john knox. _the only authentic portrait. engraved for a book by theodore beza, published at geneva in ._] the history of the reformation of religion in scotland by john knox with which are included knox's confession and the book of discipline _a twentieth century edition_ revised and edited by cuthbert lennox london: andrew melrose pilgrim street, e.c. mcmv "it is really a loss to english and even to universal literature that knox's hasty and strangely interesting, impressive, and peculiar book, called _the history of the reformation in scotland_, has not been rendered far more extensively legible to serious mankind at large than is hitherto the case. there is in it, ... a really singular degree of clearness, sharp just insight and perspicacity, now and then of picturesqueness and visuality, as if the thing was set before your eyes; and everywhere a feeling of the most perfect credibility and veracity: that is to say altogether, of knox's high qualities as an observer and narrator.... this man, you can discern, has seized the essential elements of the phenomenon, and done a right portrait of it; a man with an actually seeing eye.... "besides this perfect clearness, naïveté, and almost unintentional picturesqueness, there are to be found in knox's swift flowing history many other kinds of 'geniality,' and indeed of far higher excellences than are wont to be included under that designation. the grand italian dante is not more in earnest about this inscrutable immensity than knox is. there is in knox throughout the spirit of an old hebrew prophet, such as may have been in moses in the desert at sight of the burning bush; spirit almost altogether unique among modern men; and along with all this, in singular neighbourhood to it, a sympathy, a veiled tenderness of heart, veiled, but deep and of piercing vehemence, and withal even an inward gaiety of soul, alive to the ridicule that dwells in whatever is ridiculous, in fact a fine vein of humour, which is wanting in dante.... "the story of this great epoch is nowhere to be found so impressively narrated as in this book of knox's; a hasty loose production, but grounded on the completest knowledge, and with visible intention of setting down faithfully both the imperfections of poor fallible men, and the unspeakable mercies of god to this poor realm of scotland." carlyle. introductory note. knox's "history" has all the essential qualities of a classic. it makes appeal with perennial freshness to the heart of man. it depicts a struggle for religious freedom which never had an equal, either before or since, and yet has a counterpart in the experience of every age. it is the honest and truthful record of one of the most highly energised men that ever crossed the stage of life--a record, withal, so masterly that the reader's mind and heart attain the writer's meaning and point of view, at a bound. its humanity is as broad as human nature; its grasp of the eternal verities is childlike yet strong; its imagination is sane yet soaring. the literary and historical value of the "history" has been adequately estimated for us by carlyle, in his "essay on the portraits of john knox;" and here we would only emphasise its manifestation of the intellectual quality and patriotic spirit of the men who were, under god, responsible for the great reformation of religion within the realm of scotland. above all, we would mark the noble conception of god which possessed the hearts of the reformers. for them, the eternal, our god, as knox is fond of calling him, was a living reality; and, with holy boldness, they withstood the enemies of god, whatever the worldly position and seeming authority of these might be. god's will was supreme, and they were there to see to its execution. the sap of the old testament is in all their utterances. the document known as _knox's confession of faith_, and _the book of discipline_ throw further light upon the high intellectual endowments and virile faith of the reformers. the "confession" is of historic value. it was the recognised creed of the reformed church in scotland, from until , when it was unfortunately discarded for the westminster confession. passages in _the book of discipline_ touch the sublime. the work, as a whole, contains a complete and statesmanlike scheme for the ecclesiastical administration of the realm of scotland, for the conduct of its schools and colleges, for the relief of its poor, and for the control of its social relations. this ideal constitution was tinkered and modified, in parts, before it secured the approval of those who had great possessions, snatched from the dispossessed "papistical kirk." but upon its broad framework there rest the scotland and the presbyterianism of which scotsmen are justly proud to-day. originally dictated by knox to amanuenses at intervals, between and , this "history" existed only in manuscript for many years. copied and recopied by scribes of differing abilities and of varying bias, the traditional text became overlaid with emendations in some copies, and enfeebled by excisions and suppressions in others, while of clerical errors there is no small crop in almost every one of the extant versions. several times in the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, one or other of these versions was printed and put forth as knox's work. but it was only in that, as a result of the painstaking research of the notable scottish antiquarian scholar, dr. david laing, a really authentic and complete version of the "history" was issued by the wodrow society. so far as scholarly research is concerned, dr. laing put the copestone upon the task of securing an authentic text, and his will probably be the definitive edition. in it the historians of succeeding generations may win the ore of historic fact and contemporary sentiment. but the work of knox has a far wider appeal. its author had his eye upon posterity when he wrote: he had a message for it. time and again, he makes occasion to say so. as thus:-- "this we write, that the posterity to come may understand how potently god wrought in preserving and delivering those that had but a small knowledge of his truth, and for the love of the same hazarded all. we or our posterity may see a fearful dispersion of such as oppose themselves to impiety, or take upon them to punish the same otherwise than laws of men will permit: we may see them forsaken by men, and, as it were, despised and punished by god. but, if we do, let us not damn the persons that punish vice for just causes, nor yet despair that the same god that casts down, for causes unknown to us, will again raise up the persons dejected, to his glory and their comfort." or again:--"this we put in memory, that the posterities to come may know that god once made his truth to triumph; but, because some of ourselves delighted more in darkness than in light, he hath restrained our freedom, and put the whole body in bondage." note the obstacles which have checked the wider currency of the book. knox wrote in the "engliss tongue," with a liberal admixture of good scots words. but english prose was then only in its birth. knox's spelling is now hopelessly archaic, if not anarchic; his punctuation is no help, and almost a hindrance; and his style of composition, in his more sustained periods, is ponderous and involved. nor is this all. knox's original conception of his task seems to have been that of an exact record or chronicle of the occurrences between and of which he had personal knowledge, or documentary or other credible evidence. he has, therefore, conscientiously transcribed complete copies of letters, treaties, bonds, instructions to deputies ("credits" he calls them), and even of such lengthy documents as _the confession of faith_ and _the book of discipline_, as well as of sermons preached on sundry occasions. to the historian, all these records are invaluable; but they only serve to distract the ordinary reader's attention from the main current of the narrative. they blunt his interest, instead of whetting it. the present edition is a serious attempt to remove the obstacles to which we have just referred. the editor has not bound himself to reproduce the _ipsissima verba_ of knox at every point; although quotations from documents have been transliterated with some exactness. his main object has been to make knox's book utterly readable, and it may be claimed that the complete historical narrative is now given to the english reader. here and there a parenthesis has been dropped, here and there a "meary tale" which carries the illustration of the argument a little further than modern ideas of decorum permit. essential clauses of letters and other documents have been retained: nothing is omitted that will substantially further the high purpose of the history. _the confession of faith_, commonly known as knox's, and _the book of discipline_ were reckoned too important for abridgment. these have been transferred bodily to the appendix, to avert a serious block in the narrative. every effort has been made to preserve knox's vigorous phraseology intact. obsolete and scots words are glossed at the foot of the page on which they first occur; and a full glossary is appended to the work. for the rest, the editor has sought to bring the mind and heart of knox into touch with those of the reader, without unessential distractions. footnotes are a manner of impertinence when a wonderful story is forward, and such an one is knox's. he himself tells us to go to "universal histories of the time," if we want exact information. here is no dry-as-dust chronicle of days and dates. here we have an inspired record of the dealings of god with men. here we read of their sinning, their shortcoming, and their struggling, of their faith and its victory, in a narrative that can be likened to nothing else in literature than the books of the old testament. this is a book for the heart, a human book, written by "one who neither flattered nor feared any flesh." cuthbert lennox. _february ._ table of contents. introductory note v table of contents ix book first: - . early persecutions, . paul craw: a.d. , . the lollards of kyle: , . archbishop james beaton, . the coming of patrick hamilton, . persecution of hamilton, . his martyrdom, . questionings arise, . friar william arth speaks out, . the abuse of god's curse, . false miracles, . friar alexander seton preaches the evangel, . his apology, . his persecution, . persecution flags, . the reformation in england, . scots reformers abroad, . persecution revived: , . david stratoun and his teind fish, . the conversion of stratoun, . martyrdom of stratoun and gourlay, . the true light spreads: cardinal david beaton notwithstanding, . the reformation in court and cloisters, . friar kyllour and others go to the stake: february , . the trial of friar russell and friar kennedy, . they are burned, . the bigotry of james v., . god speaks to him, . george buchanan: his arrest and escape, . the broken tryst, . war with england: , . halden rig, . fala raid, . the lords plot against the courtiers, . the english army retires, . the courtiers and priests plot against the lords, . "an answer worthy of a prince," . solway moss: how it began, . the rout of solway moss, . the blow falls on the king, . the birth of mary stuart, . the death of james v., . the cardinal claims the regency, . the earl of arran is proclaimed regent, . thomas williams and john rough preach, in despite of the friars, . edinburgh drowned in superstition, . liberty to read the scriptures is demanded, . an open bible is secured, . the bible becomes fashionable, . king harry suggests the betrothal of queen mary to prince edward, . the contract of marriage is adjusted and ratified, . the papists refuse to acknowledge the contract, . they turn the tables, . the abbot and the cardinal next threaten the regent, . the regent breaks faith with england and receives absolution, . king harry remonstrates without avail, . war is declared by king harry, . the revolt of the earl of lennox, . cardinal beaton stirs up strife betwixt his enemies, . the fight for the provostship of perth, . treachery of the cardinal, . the persecution at perth, . the english invade scotland, and sack edinburgh and leith, . france comes to the aid of cardinal beaton, . john hamilton, abbot of paisley, . george wishart comes to scotland, . he is driven from dundee, . goes to kyle, . the plague comes to dundee: wishart returns, . the cardinal attempts to assassinate him at dundee, . further treachery of the cardinal, . the agony of wishart, . he arrives in leith, . for safety he is removed to the lothians: preaches at inveresk, . he goes to haddington, . john knox's first appearance, . the last sermon of wishart: his arrest, . he is betrayed into the hands of the cardinal, . the bishops and clergy are convoked to the trial of wishart, . a merry tale of the cardinal and archbishop dunbar, . pilate and herod patch the quarrel, . wishart before the cardinal's tribunal, . the sub-prior preaches on heresy, . a fed sow accuses and curses wishart, . his oration in reply to his accusers, . he is brought to the stake, . vengeance on the cardinal is vowed, . assassination of cardinal beaton: th may , . the reforming party is besieged in the castle of st. andrews, . a treacherous truce, . john rough resumes preaching, . john knox comes to the castle of st. andrews, . he is called to the office of preacher, . he denounces the roman kirk: his challenge, . the first public sermon of john knox is made in the parish kirk of st. andrews, . the people comment on knox's sermon against papistry, . he is called on to defend his doctrine, . signs follow his ministry: the backsliding of sir james balfour, . the regent and the queen-dowager violate the appointment: a french army comes to their aid, . the castle is stormed, and surrenders upon terms, . the company of the castle are carried to france, and cast into prison and the galleys, . the papists rejoice, and the regent receives the pope's thanks, . the duke of somerset invades scotland, . the battle of pinkie cleuch, . the parliament at haddington: queen mary is sold to france, . the siege of haddington, . the french fruits: arrogance of the french soldiery, . the scots prisoners in france, and their deliverance, . john knox prophesies of himself: his confidence in god's deliverance, . john knox in england, and on the continent, . haddington proves the truth of wishart's foreboding, . peace proclaimed (april ): the papists resume persecution, . the faithful testimony and martyrdom of adam wallace, . the duke is deposed, and the queen-dowager is made regent ( ), . the death and virtues of edward vi., . the superstitious cruelty of mary of england, and of the queen regent, . knox follows william harlaw and john willock to scotland, . the good testimony of elizabeth adamson, mistress barron, . john knox argues that the mass is idolatry, . he preaches in different parts, and administers the lord's table, . he is summoned to answer for his doctrine: the diet abandoned, . he is recalled to geneva, and leaves the realm: he is burned in effigy, . the regent declares war on england: the nobles decline to move, . the evangel begins to flourish in scotland, . images are stolen, and the prelates practise with the regent, . the downcasting of saint giles's image, and discomfiture of baal's priests, . the dean of restalrig, hypocrite, begins to preach, . the recall of knox, . the lords of the congregation make a covenant, . the earl of argyll promotes the cause of the reformed kirk, . the bishops make a feeble show of reformation, . the regent practises for grant of the crown-matrimonial to the king of france, . the parliament of october : the crown-matrimonial is granted, . book second: - . the preface to the second book, . the consciences of judges, lords, and rulers are awakened, . the office of elder is instituted, and the privy kirk is founded, . john willock preaches: formal steps towards a public reformation are taken, . the first oration and petition of the protestants of scotland to the queen regent, . the papists brag of disputation: the articles of reconciliation, . persecution at st. andrews: walter myln is burned, . the protestants appeal to parliament, . the regent makes large promises of protection and reform, . treachery of the regent: the preachers are summoned, . the revival at perth: fury of the regent, . knox returns from france, and joins the protestants at perth, . the mob wreck the churches and destroy the monasteries in perth, . the queen rages, and stirs up the nobility, . the protestants prepare for a struggle for liberty of conscience, . the rival forces are arrayed outside perth, . commissioners are sent by the queen: interview with john knox: may , . the nobility of the west-land march to the aid of perth: the regent takes fright, . another appointment is patched up: th may , . the lords and the congregation make a fresh covenant, . the regent enters perth, and at once breaks faith with the congregation, . the earl of argyll abandons the regent and declines to return, . the archbishop of st. andrews interdicts knox from preaching, . knox declines to obey the dictates of the archbishop, . he preaches at st. andrews once more: the monuments of idolatry are cast down, . the regent declares war: the forces of the congregation are called out, . the affair of cupar moor: the regent sues for an armistice, . once more the regent breaks faith, . the relief of perth, . the sack of the abbey and palace of scone, . the forces of the congregation take possession of stirling and edinburgh, . the congregation renew peaceable overtures to the regent, . death of harry second, king of france, . the regent again takes up arms against the congregation, . edinburgh castle supports the regent: appointment made at leith, . the congregation invoke the aid of england, . john willock braves the fury of the regent, and continues to minister to the kirk in edinburgh, . the citizens decline to permit popish ceremonies to be renewed in the high kirk, . the regent restores the mass at holyrood, persecutes the reformed clergy, and seeks to embroil the protestants with the french, . she receives reinforcements of troops from france, . a convention is held at stirling: th september , . the lords of the congregation agree to take up arms against the french invasion, . the protests of the congregation are scornfully rejected, . the congregation convene at edinburgh: they agree to depose the regent, . the first siege of leith is commenced: traitors hinder the protestants, . hardships of the protestant party; the soldiers demand their pay, . four thousand crowns are sent from england, and captured by lord bothwell, . the men of dundee lose their guns, . the ill results of further treachery, . the cause of the protestants is in eclipse, . maitland of lethington joins the lords of the congregation, . the retreat from edinburgh, . john knox preaches at stirling: a notable sermon on the discipline of providence, . book third: - . the regent possesses edinburgh: arran is proclaimed traitor, . french reinforcements meet with disaster, . news from england: a waiting game is played, . the french invade fife, . an affair at pettycur, . the french occupy kinghorn, . john knox preaches at cupar, . the campaign in fife, . an english fleet arrives in the forth, . the french retire on edinburgh, . a greedy frenchman dies in a beef-tub, . the negotiations between the congregation and the english court, . cecil's letter to knox, . reply of knox to secretary cecil, . a practical response, . knox reproaches the lords for slackness and thoughtlessness, . after the french retreat from fife, . at berwick the lords made a contract with england, . principal clauses of the treaty of berwick, . the regent lays waste the country, . second siege of leith: april , . the assault upon leith is unsuccessful, . sir james crofts is blamed, . the siege is continued: illness of the queen regent, . the regent expresses repentance, and receives godly instruction, . death of the queen regent, . peace with france is concluded, . the english army is withdrawn, with honours, . public thanksgiving in st. giles's kirk, . preachers and superintendents are appointed, . the first protestant parliament, . john knox preaches, and reformation is agreed upon, . the protestants petition parliament, . parliament calls for _the confession of faith_, . _the confession of faith_ is considered by parliament, and solemnly ratified, . the mass is prohibited, . queen mary and the king of france do not ratify the acts of parliament, . _the book of discipline_, . the house of guise and the papists design further trouble, . death of the king of france: th december , . queen elizabeth declines the hand of the earl of arran, . a public debate concerning the mass, . lord james stewart is sent to queen mary, . an embassy from france, . lord james has a narrow escape from the papists, . messages from the queen, . queen mary's relations with queen elizabeth, . book fourth: - . no dregs of papistry left in the reformed church of scotland, . this book tells of declension, . the arrival of mary, queen of scots: a distressing omen, . the mass is restored at holyrood, . the council tolerates the mass at court, . the earl of arran protests, . the protestants are beguiled, . john knox preaches against the queen's mass, . he reasons with the queen, . no results follow the queen's conference with knox, . the prodigality of edinburgh, . the magistrates of edinburgh are imprisoned and deposed, . the mass is restored, . lord james stewart is sent to the borders, . the behaviour of the queen, . the influence of the court is felt in the kirk, . the ministers reproach the defaulting lords, . discussion concerning _the book of discipline_, . the barons sue for public order in regard to ecclesiastical benefices, . the council agrees to divide the patrimony of the kirk, . the modification of stipends, . secretary lethington gets his answer, . lord james stewart created earl of mar: his marriage, . disorderly conduct of earl bothwell and others, . plots against the earl of moray, . earl bothwell speaks with john knox, . the reconciliation of the earl of arran and the earl bothwell, . the earl of arran suspects treachery, . the frenzy of the earl of arran, . john knox reproves the queen, . he is summoned before the queen, . he states his views concerning the behaviour of princes, . of dancing, . the queen negotiates with england, . the king of sweden proposes marriage to queen mary, . the queen and the earl of moray, . the general assembly: june , . the supplication to the queen, . secretary lethington objects to the terms of the supplication, . the queen visits the north: papist intrigues, . john knox warns the protestants, . a bond is again subscribed, . the result of john knox's labours in the south, . the abbot of crossraguel and knox, . the revolt of the earl of huntly, . of the earl of huntly, . the queen's relations with the earl of moray, . rumours concerning the queen's marriage, . the queen and earl bothwell, . the preachers admonish the courtiers, . the general assembly: th december , . the protestants deal with idolaters and the mass, . queen mary and john knox at lochleven, . john knox writes to the earl of argyll, . the massmongers are tried: th may , . parliament of may , . queen mary's influence: "vox dianae," . reformation is hindered by personal interests, . john knox breaks with the earl of moray, . inept legislation, . john knox preaches a faithful sermon to the lords, . papists and protestants take offence: knox is summoned by the queen, . lethington's return: his worldly wisdom displayed, . the queen retains observance of the mass, . the death of lord john of coldingham, . massmongers at holyrood take fright, . the papists devise mischief, . john knox's letter to the brethren: th october , . he is betrayed, . he is accused of high treason, . the lord advocate gives his opinion, . the earl of moray and secretary lethington reason with john knox, . knox is brought before the queen and privy council, . he is tried for high treason, . the verdict of the privy council, . the displeasure of the queen, . the general assembly: december , . john knox demands the judgment of his brethren, . his acquittal by the general assembly, . signs of god's displeasure, . lavish entertainments at court, . the queen's broken promises, . secretary lethington defies the servants of god, . the courtiers and the kirk, . the courtiers rouse john knox: he preaches concerning idolatry, . the general assembly: june , . the protestant courtiers maintain an independent position, . secretary lethington defines the attitude of the lords of the court, . the disputation between john knox and the secretary, . appendix. knox's confession. cap. page _the preface_ i. _of god_ ii. _of the creation of man_ iii. _of original sin_ iv. _of the revelation of the promise_ v. _the continuance, increase, and preservation of the kirk_ vi. _of the incarnation of christ jesus_ vii. _why it behoved the mediator to be very god and very man_ viii. _election_ ix. _christ's death, passion, burial, etc._ x. _resurrection_ xi. _ascension_ xii. _faith in the holy ghost_ xiii. _the cause of good works_ xiv. _what works are reputed good before god_ xv. _the perfection of the law and imperfection of man_ xvi. _of the kirk_ xvii. _the immortality of the souls_ xviii. _of the notes by which the true kirk is discerned from the false, and who shall be judge of the doctrine_ xix. _the authority of the scriptures_ xx. _of general councils, of their power, authority, and causes of their convention_ xxi. _of the sacraments_ xxii. _of the right administration of the sacraments_ xxiii. _to whom sacraments appertain_ xxiv. _of the civil magistrate_ xxv. _the gifts freely given to the kirk_ the book of discipline. i. _of doctrine_ ii. _of sacraments_ iii. _touching the abolition of idolatry_ iv. _concerning ministers and their lawful election_ v. _concerning provision for the ministers, and for distribution of the rents and possessions justly appertaining to the kirk_ vi. _of the superintendents_ vii. _of schools and universities_ viii. _of the rents and patrimony of the kirk_ ix. _of ecclesiastical discipline_ x. _touching the election of elders and deacons, etc._ xi. _concerning the policy of the church_ xii. _for preaching and interpretation of scriptures, etc._ xiii. _of marriage_ xiv. _of burial_ xv. _for reparation of churches_ xvi. _for punishment of those that profane the sacraments and do contemn the word of god, and dare presume to minister them, not being thereto lawfully called_ _the conclusion_ glossary of obsolete and scots words and phrases index the reformation of religion in scotland book first.[ ] - . [ ] "_the first book of the history of the reformation of religion within the realm of scotland._ containing the manner and by what persons the light of christ's evangel hath been manifested unto this realm, after that horrible and universal defection from the truth, which has come by the means of that roman antichrist." [sidenote: early persecutions.] in the records of glasgow, mention is found of one that, in the year of god , was burnt for heresy. his name is not given, and of his opinions or of the order upon which he was condemned there is no evidence left. but our chronicles make mention that, in the days of king james the first, about the year of god , there was apprehended in the university of st. andrews one named paul craw, a bohemian, who was accused of heresy before such as then were called doctors of theology. the principal accusation against him was that, in his opinion of the sacrament, he followed john huss and wycliffe, who denied that the substance of bread and wine were changed by virtue of any words, or that confession should be made to priests, or prayers made to saints departed. [sidenote: paul craw: a.d. .] god gave unto the said paul craw grace to resist his persecutors, and not to consent to their impiety, and he was committed to the secular judge (for our bishops follow pilate, who both did condemn, and also washed his hands) who condemned him to the fire. therein he was consumed at st. andrews, about the time mentioned. to declare themselves to be of the generation of satan, who from the beginning hath been enemy to the truth and desireth the same to be hid from the knowledge of men, they put a ball of brass in his mouth, to the end that he should not give confession of his faith to the people, nor yet that they should understand the defence which he had against his unjust accusation and condemnation. [sidenote: the lollards of kyle: .] these practices did not greatly advance the kingdom of darkness, nor were they able utterly to extinguish the truth. in the days of king james the second and king james the third we find small question of religion moved within this realm, but in the time of king james the fourth, in the year of god , thirty persons were summoned before the king and his great council, by robert blackader, called archbishop of glasgow. some of these dwelt in kyle-stewart, some in king's-kyle, and some in cunningham. amongst them were george campbell of cessnock, adam reid of barskymming, john campbell of new mills, andrew shaw of polkemmet, helen chalmers, lady polkellie, and marion chalmers, lady stair. [sidenote: whereof the lollards of kyle were accused.] these were called the lollards of kyle. in the register of glasgow we find the articles of belief for which they were accused. these were as follows:--( ) images are not to be possessed, nor yet to be worshipped. ( ) relics of saints are not to be worshipped. ( ) laws and ordinances of men vary from time to time, and so do those of the pope. ( ) it is not lawful to fight, or to defend the faith. (we translate according to the barbarousness of their latin and dictament.[ ]) ( ) christ gave power to peter only, and not to his successors, to bind and loose within the kirk. ( ) christ ordained no priests to consecrate. ( ) after the consecration in the mass, there remains bread; and the natural body of christ is not there. ( ) tithes ought not to be given to ecclesiastical men--as they were then called. ( ) christ at his coming took away power from kings to judge. (this article we doubt not to be the venomous accusation of the enemies, whose practice has ever been to make the doctrine of jesus christ suspect to kings and rulers, as if god thereby would depose them from their royal seats, while, on the contrary, nothing confirms the power of magistrates more than does god's word.--but to the articles.) ( ) every faithful man or woman is a priest. ( ) the anointing of kings ceased at the coming of christ. ( ) the pope is not the successor of peter--except where christ said, "go behind me, satan." ( ) the pope deceiveth the people by his bulls and his indulgences. ( ) the mass profiteth not the souls that are in purgatory. ( ) the pope and the bishops deceive the people by their pardons. ( ) indulgences to fight against the saracens ought not to be granted. ( ) the pope exalts himself against god and above god. ( ) the pope cannot remit the pains of purgatory. ( ) the blessings of the bishops--of dumb dogs they should have been styled--are of no value. ( ) the excommunication of the kirk is not to be feared. ( ) in no case is it lawful to swear. ( ) priests may have wives, according to the constitution of the law. ( ) true christians receive the body of jesus christ every day. ( ) after matrimony is contracted, the kirk may make no divorce. ( ) excommunication binds not. ( ) the pope forgives not sins, but only god. ( ) faith should not be given to miracles. ( ) we should not pray to the glorious virgin mary, but to god only. ( ) we are no more bound to pray in the kirk than in other places. ( ) we are not bound to believe all that the doctors of the kirk have written. ( ) such as worship the sacrament of the kirk--we suppose they meant the sacrament of the altar--commit idolatry. ( ) the pope is the head of the kirk of antichrist. ( ) the pope and his ministers are murderers. ( ) they which are called principals in the church are thieves and robbers. [ ] phraseology. albeit that the accusation of the archbishop and his accomplices was very grievous, god so assisted his servants, partly by inclining the king's heart to gentleness (for divers of them were his great familiars), and partly by giving bold and godly answers to their accusators, that the enemies in the end were frustrated in their purpose. when the archbishop, in mockery, said to adam reid of barskymming, "reid, believe ye that god is in heaven?" he answered, "not as i do the sacraments seven." thereat the archbishop, thinking to have triumphed, said, "sir, lo, he denies that god is in heaven." the king, wondering, said, "adam reid, what say ye?" the other answered, "please your grace to hear the end betwixt the churl and me." therewith he turned to the archbishop and said, "i neither think nor believe, as thou thinkest, that god is in heaven; but i am most assured that he is not only in heaven, but also on earth. thou and thy faction declare by your works that either ye think there is no god at all, or else that he is so shut up in heaven that he regards not what is done on earth. if thou didst firmly believe that god was in heaven, thou shouldst not make thyself cheek-mate[ ] to the king, and altogether forget the charge that jesus christ the son of god gave to his apostles. that was, to preach his evangel, and not to play the proud prelates, as all the rabble of you do this day. and now, sir," said he to the king, "judge ye whether the bishop or i believe best that god is in heaven." while the archbishop and his band could not well revenge themselves, and while many taunts were given them in their teeth, the king, willing to put an end to further reasoning, said to the said adam reid, "wilt thou burn thy bill?"[ ] he answered, "sir, the bishop and ye will." with these and the like scoffs the archbishop and his band were so dashed out of countenance that the greatest part of the accusation was turned to laughter. [ ] familiar. [ ] the form of burning one's bill, on recanting, was this,--the person accused was to bring a faggot of dry sticks, and burn it publicly, by which ceremony he signified that he destroyed that which should have been the instrument of his death.--_keith._ [sidenote: archbishop james beaton.] after that diet, we find almost no question for matters of religion, for the space of nigh thirty years. for not long after, to wit, in the year of god , the said archbishop blackader departed this life, while journeying in his superstitious devotion to jerusalem. unto him succeeded mr. james beaton, son to the laird of balfour, in fife. more careful for the world than he was to preach christ, or yet to advance any religion, but for the fashion only, he sought the world, and it fled him not. at once he was archbishop of st. andrews, abbot of dunfermline, arbroath, and kilwinning, and chancellor of scotland. after the unhappy field of flodden, in which perished king james the fourth, with the greater part of the nobility of the realm, the said beaton with the rest of the prelates, had the whole regiment[ ] of the realm. by reason thereof, he held and travailed to hold the truth of god in thraldom and bondage, until it pleased god of his great mercy, in the year of god , to raise up his servant, master patrick hamilton, at whom our history doth begin. because men of fame and renown have in divers works written of his progeny, life, and erudition, we omit all curious repetition. if any would know further of him than we write, we send them to francis lambert, john firth, and to that notable work, lately set forth by john foxe, englishman, of the lives and deaths of martyrs within this isle, in this our age. [ ] rule; control. [sidenote: the coming of patrick hamilton.] this servant of god, the said master patrick, being in his youth provided with reasonable honour and living (he was titular abbot of ferne), as one hating the world and the vanity thereof, left scotland, and passed to the schools in germany; for then the fame of the university of wittenberg was greatly divulged in all countries. there, by god's providence, he became familiar with these lights and notable servants of christ jesus of that time, martin luther, philip melanchthon, and the said francis lambert, and he did so grow and advance in godly knowledge, joined with fervency and integrity of life, that he was in admiration with many. the zeal of god's glory did so eat him up, that he could of no long continuance remain abroad, but returned to his country, where the bright beams of the true light, which by god's grace was planted in his heart, began most abundantly to burst forth, as well in public as in secret. besides his godly knowledge, he was well learned in philosophy. he abhorred sophistry, and would that the text of aristotle should have been better understood and more used in the schools than then it was: for sophistry had corrupted all, as well in divinity as in humanity. [sidenote: persecution of patrick hamilton.] in short process of time, the fame of the said master patrick's reasoning and doctrine troubled the clergy, and came to the ears of archbishop james beaton. being a conjured enemy to jesus christ, and one that long had had the whole regiment of this realm, he bare impatiently that any trouble should be made in that kingdom of darkness whereof, within this realm, he was the head. therefore, he so travailed with the said master patrick, that he got him to st. andrews, where, after conference for divers days, he received his freedom and liberty. the said archbishop and his bloody butchers, called doctors, seemed to approve his doctrine, and to grant that many things craved reformation in the ecclesiastical regiment. amongst the rest, there was one that secretly consented with master patrick almost in all things, friar alexander campbell, a man of good wit and learning, but corrupted by the world, as after we will hear. when the bishops and the clergy had fully understood the mind and judgment of the said master patrick, fearing that by him their kingdom should be damaged, they travailed with the king, who then was young and altogether at their command, that he should pass in pilgrimage to st. duthac in ross, to the end that no intercession should be made for the life of the innocent servant of god. he, suspecting no such cruelty as in their hearts was concluded, remained still, a lamb among the wolves, until he was intercepted in his chamber one night, and by the archbishop's band was carried to the castle. there he was kept that night; and in the morning, produced in judgment, was condemned to die by fire for the testimony of god's truth. the articles for which he suffered were but of pilgrimage, purgatory, prayer to saints and prayer for the dead, and such trifles; albeit matters of greater importance had been in question, as his treatise may witness. that the condemnation should have greater authority, the archbishop and his doctors caused the same to be subscribed by all those of any estimation that were present, and, to make their number great, they took the subscriptions of children, if they were of the nobility; for the earl of cassillis, being then but twelve or thirteen years of age, was compelled to subscribe to master patrick's death, as he himself did confess. [sidenote: martyrdom of patrick hamilton.] immediately after dinner, the fire was prepared before the old college, and master patrick was led to the place of execution. men supposed that all was done but to give him a fright, and to have caused him to have recanted and become recreant to those bloody beasts. but god, for his own glory, for the comfort of his servant, and for manifestation of their beastly tyranny, had otherwise decreed. he so strengthened his faithful witness that neither the love of life nor yet the fear of that cruel death could move him a jot to swerve from the truth once professed. at the place of execution he gave to his servant, who had been chamber-child[ ] to him for a long time, his gown, coat, bonnet, and such like garments, saying, "these will not profit in the fire; they will profit thee. after this, thou canst receive no commodity from me, except the example of my death. that, i pray thee, bear in mind; for, albeit it be bitter to the flesh and fearful before men, it is the entrance unto eternal life, which none shall possess who deny christ jesus before this wicked generation." [ ] valet-de-chambre. the innocent servant of god being bound to the stake in the midst of some coals, some timber, and other matter appointed for the fire, a train of powder was made and set afire. this gave a glaise[ ] to the blessed martyr of god, scrimpled[ ] his left hand and that side of his face, but kindled neither the wood nor yet the coals. and so remained he in torment, until men ran to the castle again for more powder, and for wood more able to take fire. when at last this was kindled, with loud voice he cried, "lord jesus, receive my spirit! how long shall darkness overwhelm this realm? and how long wilt thou suffer this tyranny of men?" the fire was slow, and therefore was his torment the more. but most of all was he grieved by certain wicked men, amongst whom campbell the black friar (of whom we spoke before) was principal. these continually cried, "convert, heretic; call upon our lady: say _salve regina_," etc. to them he answered, "depart, and trouble me not, ye messengers of satan." but, while the foresaid friar still roared one thing with great vehemency, he said unto him, "wicked man, thou knowest the contrary, and the contrary to me thou hast confessed: i appeal thee before the tribunal seat of jesus christ!" after these words, and others that could not well be understood or marked, both for the tumult and the vehemence of the fire, the witness of jesus christ got victory, after long suffering, on the last day of february in the year of god . the said friar departed this life within few days after, in what estate we refer to the manifestation of the general day. but it was plainly known that he died, in glasgow, in a frenzy, and as one in despair. [ ] scorched. [ ] shrivelled. [sidenote: questionings arise.] when these cruel wolves had, as they supposed, clean devoured the prey, they found themselves in worse case than they were before; for within st. andrews, yea, almost within the whole realm, of those who heard of that deed, there was none found who began not to inquire, wherefore was master patrick hamilton burnt? when his articles were rehearsed, it was questioned whether such articles were necessarily believed under pain of damnation. and so, within short space, many began to call in doubt that which before they held for a certain truth, in so much that the university of st. andrews, and st. leonard's college principally, by the labours of master gavin logie, and the novices of the abbey, by those of the sub-prior, began to smell somewhat of the truth, and to espy the vanity of the received superstition. within a few years, both black and grey friars began publicly to preach against the pride and idle life of bishops, and against the abuses of the whole ecclesiastical estate. [sidenote: friar william arth speaks out.] friar william arth, in a sermon preached in dundee, spake somewhat more liberally against the licentious lives of the bishops than they could well bear. he spake further against the abuse of cursing and of miracles. the bishop of brechin, having his placeboes[ ] and jackmen[ ] in the town, buffeted the friar, and called him heretic. the friar, impatient of the injury received, passed to st. andrews, and communicated the heads of his sermon to master john major, whose word then was held as an oracle in matters of religion. being assured by him that such doctrine might well be defended, and that he would defend it, for it contained no heresy, there was a day appointed to the said friar, to make repetition of the same sermon. advertisement was given to all who were offended to be present. and so, in the parish kirk of st. andrews, upon the day appointed, appeared the said friar, and had amongst his auditors master john major, master george lockhart, the abbot of cambuskenneth, and master patrick hepburn, prior of st. andrews, with all the doctors and masters of the universities. the theme of his sermon was, "truth is the strongest of all things." [ ] parasites; flatterers. [ ] armed followers. [sidenote: the abuse of god's curse.] concerning cursing, the friar said that, if it were rightly used, it was the most fearful thing upon the face of the earth; for it was the very separation of man from god; but that it should not be used rashly, and for every light cause, but only against open and incorrigible sinners. "but now," said he, "the avarice of priests, and the ignorance of their office, has caused it altogether to be vilipended[ ]; for the priest, whose duty and office it is to pray for the people, stands up on sunday and cries, 'one has lost a spurtle.[ ] there is a flail stolen from those beyond the burn.[ ] the goodwife of the other side of the gate has lost a horn spoon. god's malison and mine i give to them that know of this gear, and restore it not.'" the people, he continued, mocked their cursing. after a sermon that he had made at dunfermline, where gossips were drinking their sunday penny, he, being dry, asked drink. "yes, father," said one of the gossips, "ye shall have drink; but ye must first resolve a doubt which has arisen amongst us, to wit, what servant will serve a man best on least expense?" "the good angel," said i, "who is man's keeper, does great service without expense." "tush," said the gossip, "we mean not such high matters. we mean, "what honest man will do greatest service for least expense?" "while i was musing," said the friar, "what that should mean," he said, 'i see, father, that the greatest clerks are not the wisest men. know ye not how the bishops and their officials serve us husbandmen? will they not give us a letter of cursing for a plack,[ ] to last for a year, to curse all that look over our dyke[ ]? that keeps our corn better than the sleeping boy, who demands three shillings of fee, a sark,[ ] and a pair of shoes in the year. therefore, if their cursing do anything, we hold that the bishops are the cheapest servants, in that behalf, that are within the realm.'" [ ] slighted; undervalued. [ ] porridge-stick. [ ] brook. [ ] a small copper coin. [ ] wall. [ ] shirt. [sidenote: false miracles.] as concerning miracles, the friar declared what diligence the ancients took to try true miracles from false. "but now," said he, "the greediness of priests not only receives false miracles, but they even cherish and fee knaves on purpose, that their chapels may be the better renowned, and their offering be augmented. thereupon are many chapels founded, as if our lady were mightier, and as if she took more pleasure in one place than in another. of late days our lady of carsegreen has hopped from one green hillock to another! honest men of st. andrews," said he, "if ye love your wives and your daughters, hold them at home, or else send them in honest company; for, if ye knew what miracles were kythed[ ] there, ye would neither thank god nor our lady." and thus he merrily taunted the trysts of whoredom and adultery used at such devotion. another article in his sermon was judged more hard; for he alleged from the common law that the civil magistrate might correct the churchmen, and for open vices deprive them of their benefices. [ ] showed; practised. notwithstanding this kind of preaching, this friar remained papist in his heart. the rest of the friars, fearing to lose the benediction of the bishops, to wit, their malt and their meal and their other appointed pension, caused the said friar to fly to england, and there, for defence of the pope and papistry, he was cast into prison at king harry's commandment. but so it pleaseth god to open up the mouth of baalam's own ass, to cry out against the vicious lives of the clergy of the age. shortly after this, new consultation was taken that some should be burnt; for men began to speak very freely. a merry gentleman named john lindsay, familiar to archbishop james beaton, standing by when consultation was had, said, "my lord, if ye burn any more, unless ye follow my counsel, ye will utterly destroy yourselves. if ye will burn them, let them be burnt in how[ ] cellars; for the reek[ ] of master patrick hamilton has infected as many as it blew upon." but, so fearful was it then to speak anything against priests, the least word spoken against them, albeit it was spoken in a man's sleep, was judged heresy. richard carmichael, yet living in fife, being young and a singer in the chapel royal of stirling, happened in his sleep to say, "the devil take away the priests, for they are a greedy pack." he was accused by sir george clapperton, dean of the said chapel, and was for this compelled to burn his bill. [ ] underground. [ ] smoke. [sidenote: friar alexander seton preaches the evangel.] god shortly after raised up stronger champions against the priests. alexander seton, a black friar, of good learning and estimation, began to tax the corrupt doctrine of the papistry. for the space of a whole lent he taught the commandments of god only, ever beating in the ears of his auditors that the law of god had not been truly taught for many years, men's traditions having obscured the purity of it. these were his accustomed propositions. first: christ jesus is the end and perfection of the law. second: there is no sin where god's law is not violated. and, third: to satisfy for sin lies not in man's power, but the remission thereof comes by unfeigned repentance, and by faith apprehending god the father, merciful in christ jesus, his son. while oftentimes this friar put his auditors in mind of these and the like heads, and made no mention of purgatory, pardons, pilgrimage, prayer to saints, or such trifles, the dumb doctors and the rest of that forsworn rabble began to suspect him. they said nothing publicly until lent was ended, and he had gone to dundee. then, in his absence, one hired for that purpose openly damned the whole doctrine that he had taught. this coming to the ears of the said friar alexander, then in dundee, he returned without delay to st. andrews, caused immediately to jow[ ] the bell, and to give signification that he would preach; as he did indeed. in this sermon, more plainly than at any other time, he affirmed whatsoever in all his sermons he had taught during the whole lent-tide; adding that within scotland there was no true bishop, if bishops were to be known by such notes and virtues as st. paul requires in bishops. [ ] toll. [sidenote: friar seton's apology.] this delation[ ] flew with wings to the archbishop's ears. without further delay, he sent for the said friar alexander, and began grievously to complain and sharply to accuse him for having spoken so slanderously of the dignity of the bishops, as to say that "it behoved a bishop to be a preacher, or else he was but a dumb dog, and fed not the flock, but fed his own belly." the man, being witty, and minded of his most assured defence, said, "my lord, the reporters of such things are manifest liars." thereat the archbishop rejoiced, and said, "your answer pleases me well: i never could think that ye would be so foolish as to affirm such things. where are these knaves that have brought me this tale?" these compearing[ ] and affirming the same that they did before, he still replied that they were liars. witnesses were multiplied, and men were brought to attention, and then he turned to the archbishop and said, "my lord, ye may see and consider what ears these asses have, who cannot discern betwixt paul, isaiah, zechariah, malachi, and friar alexander seton. in very deed, my lord, i said that paul says, 'it behoveth a bishop to be a teacher.' isaiah saith, that 'they that feed not the flock are dumb dogs.' and zechariah saith, 'they are idle pastors.' i of my own head affirmed nothing, but i declared what the spirit of god had before pronounced. if ye be not offended at him, my lord, ye cannot justly be offended at me. and so, yet again, my lord, i say that they are manifest liars that reported unto you that i said that ye and others that preach not are no bishops, but belly gods." [ ] accusation. [ ] presenting themselves. [sidenote: persecution of friar seton.] albeit, the archbishop was highly offended at the scoff and bitter mock, as well as at the bold liberty of that learned man; yet durst he not hazard for that present to execute his malice conceived. not only feared he the learning and bold spirit of the man, but also the favour that he had with the people, as well as with the prince, king james the fifth. with him he had good credit; for he was at that time his confessor, and had exhorted him to the fear of god, to the meditation of god's law, and to purity of life. the archbishop, with his complices, foreseeing what danger might come to their estate, if such familiarity should continue betwixt the prince and a man so learned and so repugnant to their affections, laboured to make the said friar alexander odious unto the king's grace. with the assistance of the grey friars, who by their hypocrisy deceived many, they readily found means to traduce the innocent as a heretic. this accusation was easily received and more easily believed by the carnal prince, who was altogether given to the filthy lusts of the flesh, and abhorred all counsel repugnant thereto. he did remember what a terror the admonitions of the said alexander were unto his corrupted conscience, and without resistance he subscribed to their accusation, affirming that he knew more than they did in that matter; for he understood well enough that he smelled of the new doctrine, from such things as he had shewn to him under confession. therefore, he promised that he should follow the counsel of the bishops in punishing him and all others of that sect. these things understood by the said alexander, as well by information of his friends and familiars, as by the strange countenance of the king unto him, he provided the next way to avoid the fury of a blinded prince. in his habit, he departed the realm, and, coming to berwick, wrote back again to the king's grace his complaint and admonition.... [sidenote: persecution flags.] after the death of that constant witness of jesus christ, master patrick hamilton, when god disclosed the wickedness of the wicked, as we have seen, there was one forrest of linlithgow taken. after long imprisonment in the sea tower of st. andrews, this man was adjudged to the fire by the said archbishop james beaton and his doctors, for none other crime but because he had a new testament in english. more of his story we have not, except that he died constant, and with great patience, at st. andrews. the flame of persecution ceased after his death for the space of ten years or thereby. not that these bloody beasts ceased by all means to suppress the light of god, and to trouble such as in any sort were suspected to abhor their corruption; but because the realm was troubled with intestine and civil wars. in these, much blood was shed; first, at melrose, betwixt the douglas and buccleuch, on the eighteenth day of july, in the year of god ; next, at linlithgow, betwixt the hamiltons and the earl of lennox, where the said earl, with many others, lost his life, on the thirteenth day of september in the same year; and last, betwixt the king himself and the said douglases, whom he banished from the realm, and held in exile during the rest of his days. by reason of these, and of other troubles, the bishops and their bloody bands could not find the time so favourable unto them as they required, for executing their tyranny. [sidenote: the reformation in england.] in this mid time, the wisdom of god did provide that harry the eighth, king of england, should abolish from his realm the name and authority of the pope of rome, and suppress the abbeys and other places of idolatry. this gave hope, in divers realms, that some godly reformation should have ensued therefrom. from this our country, divers learned men, and others that lived in fear of persecution, did repair to that realm. they found not such purity as they wished, and some of them sought other countries. but they escaped the tyranny of merciless men, and were reserved to better times, that they might fructify within his church, in divers places and parts, and in divers vocations. alexander seton remained in england, and publicly, with great praise and comfort of many, taught the evangel in all sincerity certain years. albeit the craftiness of winchester, and of others, circumvented the said alexander, so as to cause him, at paul's cross, to affirm certain things repugnant to his former true doctrine; there is no doubt but that, as god had powerfully reigned with him in all his life, in his death, which shortly after followed, he found the mercy of his god, whereupon he ever exhorted all men to depend. [sidenote: scots reformers abroad.] alexander alesius, master john fyfe, and that famous man dr. macchabeus,[ ] departed unto germany, where by god's providence they were distributed to several places. macdowell, for his singular prudence, besides his learning and godliness, was elected burgomaster in one of the stadts. alesius was appointed to the university of leipsic; and so was master john fyfe. there, for their honest behaviour and great erudition, they were held in admiration by all the godly. and in what honour, credit, and estimation, dr. macchabeus was with christian king of denmark, let copenhagen and famous men of divers nations testify. thus did god provide for his servants, and frustrate the expectation of these bloody beasts who, by the death of one in whom the light of god did clearly shine, intended to have suppressed christ's truth for ever within this realm. but the contrary had god decreed; for his death was, as we have said, the cause of awakening many from the deadly sleep of ignorance; and so did jesus christ, the only true light, shine unto many, from the away-taking of one. these notable men, master john fyfe only excepted, did never after comfort this country with their bodily presence; but god made them fructify in his church, and raised them up lights out of darkness, to the praise of his own mercy, and to the just condemnation of them that then ruled--to wit, the king, council, and nobility, yea, the whole people--who suffered such notable personages, without crimes committed, to be unjustly persecuted, and so exiled. others were afterwards treated in the same manner; but of them we shall speak in their own places. [ ] macalpine. [sidenote: persecution revived: .] as soon as the bishops got the opportunity which they constantly sought, they renewed the battle against jesus christ. in the year of god , the foresaid leprous archbishop caused to be summoned sir william kirk, adam deas, henry cairns, and john stewart, indwellers of leith, with divers others, such as master william johnstone, and master henry henderson, schoolmaster of edinburgh. some of these compeared in the abbey kirk of holyroodhouse and abjured, and publicly burned their bills: others compeared not, and were exiled. but two were brought to judgment, to wit, david stratoun, a gentleman, and master norman gourlay, a man of reasonable erudition. of them we must shortly speak. [sidenote: david stratoun and his teind fish.] in master norman appeared knowledge, albeit joined with weakness. but in david stratoun there could only be espied, from the first, a hatred against the pride and avarice of the priests. the cause of his delation was as follows. he had made himself a fishing boat to go to sea, and the bishop of moray, then being prior of st. andrews, and his factors, urged for the teind thereof. his answer was that, if they would have teind of that which his servants won in the sea, it was but reason that they should come and receive it where he got the stock.[ ] so, as was constantly affirmed, he caused his servants to cast every tenth fish into the sea again. process of cursing was led against him, for non-payment of such teinds; and when he contemned this, he was delated[ ] to answer for heresy. it troubled him vehemently; and he began to frequent the company of such as were godly; for before he had been a very stubborn man, and one that despised all reading, chiefly of those things that were godly. miraculously, as it were, he appeared to be changed; for he delighted in nothing but in reading, albeit he himself could not read, and he became a vehement exhorter of all men to concord, to quietness, and to the contempt of the world. he frequented much the company of the laird of dun, whom god in those days had marvellously illuminated. [ ] the crop from which the teind was drawn. [ ] accused. [sidenote: the conversion of stratoun.] one day, the present laird of lauriston, then a young man, was reading to him from the new testament, in a certain quiet spot in the fields. as god had appointed, he chanced to read these sentences of our master, jesus christ: "he that denies me before men, or is ashamed of me in the midst of this wicked generation, i will deny him in the presence of my father, and before his angels." at these words he suddenly, being as one ravished, platt[ ] himself upon his knees. after extending both hands and visage fixedly to the heavens for a reasonable time, he burst forth in these words: "o lord, i have been wicked, and justly mayest thou withdraw thy grace from me. but, lord, for thy mercy's sake, let me never deny thee or thy truth, from fear of death or corporal pain." [ ] threw. [sidenote: martyrdom of stratoun and gourlay.] the issue declared that his prayer was not vain: for when he, with the foresaid master norman, was produced in judgment in the abbey of holyroodhouse, the king himself (all clad in red) being present, there was great labour to make the said david stratoun recant, and burn his bill. but he, ever standing at his defence, alleging that he had not offended, in the end was adjudged unto the fire. when he perceived the danger, he asked grace of the king. this would the king willingly have granted unto him, but the bishops proudly answered that his hands were bound in that case, and that he had no grace to give to such as by their law were condemned. and so was david stratoun, with the said master norman, after dinner, upon the twenty-seventh day of august, in the year of god , led to a place beside the rood of greenside; and there these two were both hanged and burned, according to the mercy of the papistical kirk. [sidenote: the true light spreads: cardinal david beaton notwithstanding.] this tyranny notwithstanding, the knowledge of god did wondrously increase within this realm, partly by reading, partly by brotherly conference, which in those dangerous days was used to the comfort of many; but chiefly by merchants and mariners, who, frequenting other countries, heard the true doctrine affirmed, and the vanity of the papistical religion openly rebuked. dundee and leith were the principal centres of enlightenment, and there david beaton, cruel cardinal, made a very strait inquisition, divers being compelled to abjure and burn their bills, some in st. andrews, and some at edinburgh. about the same time, captain john borthwick was burnt in effigy, but by god's providence he himself escaped their fury. this was done for a spectacle and triumph to mary of lorraine, lately arrived from france, as wife of james the fifth, king of scots. what plagues she brought with her, and how they yet continue, may be manifestly seen by such as are not blind. [sidenote: the reformation in court and cloisters.] the rage of these bloody beasts proceeded so that the king's court itself escaped not danger; for in it divers were suspected, and some were accused. and yet ever did some light burst out in the midst of darkness; for the truth of christ jesus entered even into the cloisters, as well of friars, as of monks and canons. john linn, a grey friar, left his hypocritical habit and the den of those murderers the grey friars. a black friar, called friar kyllour, set forth the history of christ's passion in the form of a play, which he both preached and practised openly in stirling, the king himself being present, upon a good friday in the morning. in this, all things were so lovably expressed that the very simple people understood, and these confessed that, as the priests and obstinate pharisees persuaded the people to refuse christ jesus, and caused pilate to condemn him, so did the bishops and men called religious blind the people, and persuade princes and judges to persecute such as professed the blessed evangel of christ jesus. [sidenote: friar kyllour and others go to the stake: feby. .] this plain speaking so inflamed the hearts of all that bare the beast's mark, that they did not cease their machinations until the said friar kyllour, and with him friar beveridge, sir duncan simson, robert forrester, a gentleman, and dean thomas forret, canon regular and vicar of dollar, a man of upright life, were all together cruelly murdered in one fire, on the last day of february, in the year of god . this cruelty was used by the said cardinal, the chancellor, archbishop of glasgow, and the incestuous bishop of dunblane. [sidenote: the trial of friar russell and friar kennedy.] after this cruelty was used in edinburgh, upon the castle hill, two friars were apprehended in the diocese of glasgow, to the effect that the rest of the bishops might show themselves no less fervent to suppress the light of god than was he of st. andrews. the one was jerome russell, a cordelier friar, a young man of a meek nature, quick spirit, and good letters. the other was one kennedy, who was not more than eighteen years of age, and was of excellent ingyne[ ] in scottish poesy. to assist the archbishop of glasgow in that cruel judgment, or at least to cause him to dip his hands in the blood of the saints of god, there were sent master john lauder, master andrew oliphant, and friar maltman, sergeants of satan, apt for that purpose. the day appointed for their cruelty having come, the two poor saints of god were presented before these bloody butchers. grievous were the crimes that were laid to their charge. [ ] ingenuity; genius. at the first, kennedy was faint, and gladly would have recanted. but, when a place of repentance was denied unto him, the spirit of god, which is the spirit of all comfort, began to work in him. the inward comfort began to burst forth, in visage as well as in tongue and word; for his countenance began to be cheerful. with a joyful voice he said, upon his knees, "o eternal god! how wondrous is that love and mercy that thou bearest unto mankind, and unto me the most caitiff and miserable wretch above all others; for, even now, when i would have denied thee, and thy son, our lord jesus christ, my only saviour, and so have casten myself into everlasting damnation; thou, by thine own hand, hast pulled me from the very bottom of hell, and makest me to feel that heavenly comfort which takes from me the ungodly fear wherewith before i was oppressed. now i defy death; do what ye please, i praise my god i am ready." the godly and learned jerome, railed upon by those godless tyrants, answered, "this is your hour and that of the power of darkness: now sit ye as judges; and we stand wrongfully accused, and more wrongfully to be condemned; but the day shall come, when our innocency shall appear, and ye shall see your own blindness, to your everlasting confusion. go forward, and fulfil the measure of your iniquity." when these servants of god thus behaved themselves, there arose a variance betwixt the archbishop and the beasts that came from the cardinal. the archbishop said, "i think it better to spare these men, rather than to put them to death." thereat the idiot doctors, offended, said, "what will ye do, my lord? will ye condemn all that my lord cardinal and the other bishops and we have done? if so ye do, ye show yourself enemy to the kirk and us, and so we will repute you, be ye assured." at these words the faithless man, effrayed,[ ] adjudged the innocents to die, according to the desire of the wicked. [ ] frightened; afraid. [sidenote: the friars are burned.] the meek and gentle jerome russell comforted the other with many comfortable sentences, oft saying unto him, "brother, fear not: more potent is he that is in us, than is he that is in the world. the pain that we shall suffer is short, and shall be light; but our joy and consolation shall never end. therefore, let us contend to enter in unto our master and saviour, by the strait way which he has trod before us. death cannot destroy us; for it is destroyed already by him for whose sake we suffer." with these and the like comfortable sentences, they passed to the place of execution, and constantly triumphed over death and satan, even in the midst of the flaming fire. [sidenote: the bigotry of james v.] thus did these cruel beasts intend nothing but murder in all quarters of this realm. for so far had that blinded and most vicious man, the prince,--most vicious, we call him, for he neither spared man's wife nor maiden, no more after his marriage than he did before,--so far, we say, had he given himself to obey the tyranny of those bloody beasts that he had made a solemn vow, that none should be spared that was suspected of heresy, yea, although it were his own son. he lacked not flatterers enough to press and push him forward in his fury. many of his minions were pensioners to priests; and among them, oliver sinclair, still surviving and an enemy to god, was the principal. [sidenote: god speaks to the king.] yet did not god cease to give to that blinded prince documents[ ] that some sudden plague was to fall upon him, if he did not repent his wicked life; and that his own mouth did confess. for, after sir james hamilton was beheaded, justly or unjustly we dispute not, this vision came unto him, as he himself did declare to his familiars. the said sir james appeared unto him, having in his hands a drawn sword. with this he struck both arms from the king, saying to him, "take that, until thou receivest a final payment for all thy impiety." he showed this vision, with sorrowful countenance, on the morrow; and shortly thereafter his two sons died, both within the space of twenty-four hours; some say, within the space of six hours. in his own presence, george steel, his greatest flatterer, and the greatest enemy to god that was in his court, dropped off his horse, and died without word, on the same day that, in open audience of many, the said george had refused his portion of christ's kingdom, if the prayers of the virgin mary should not bring him there. [ ] warnings. men of good credit can yet report a terrible vision the said prince saw, when lying in linlithgow, on the night that thomas scott, justice clerk, died in edinburgh. affrighted at midnight, or after, he cried for torches, and raised all that lay in the palace. he told that thomas scott was dead; for he had been at him with a company of devils, and had said unto him these words, "o woe to the day that ever i knew thee or thy service; for, for serving thee against god, against his servants, and against justice, i am adjudged to endless torment." of the terrible utterances of the said thomas scott before his death, men of all estates heard, and some that yet live can witness. his words were ever, "_justo dei judicio condemnatus sum_"; that is, i am condemned by god's just judgment. he was most oppressed for the delation and false accusation of such as professed christ's evangel, as master thomas marjoribanks and master hew rigg, then advocates, did confess to mr. henry balnaves. these came to him from the said thomas scott, as he and mr. thomas bellenden were sitting in st. giles's kirk, and in the name of the said thomas asked his forgiveness. [sidenote: george buchanan: his arrest and escape.] none of these terrible forewarnings could either change or mollify the heart of the indurate, lecherous, and avaricious tyrant: still did he proceed from impiety to impiety. in the midst of these admonitions he caused hands to be put on that notable man, master george buchanan to whom, for his singular erudition and honest behaviour was committed the charge of instructing some of his bastard children. but, by the merciful providence of god, master george escaped the rage of those that sought his blood, albeit with great difficulty, and he remains alive to this day, in the year of god , to the glory of god, to the great honour of his nation, and unto the comfort of those that delight in letters and virtue. that singular work of david's psalms in latin metre and poesy, besides many others, can witness the rare grace of god given to the man whom that tyrant, by instigation of the grey friars and of his other flatterers, would altogether have devoured, if god had not provided to his servant remedy by escape. this cruelty and persecution notwithstanding, these monsters and hypocrites the grey friars, day by day, came further into contempt; for not only did the learned espy their abominable hypocrisy, but men, in whom no such grace or gifts were thought to have been, began plainly to paint the same forth to the people.... when god had given unto that indurate prince sufficient documents that his rebellion against his blessed evangel should not prosperously succeed, he raised war against him, as he did against obstinate saul, and in this he miserably perished, as we shall hear. [sidenote: the broken tryst.] the occasion of the war was this. harry the eighth, king of england, had a great desire to have spoken with our king; and with that object he travailed long until he got a full promise made to his ambassador, lord william howard. the place of meeting was to be at york; and the king of england kept the appointment with such solemnity and preparation as never, for such a purpose, had been seen in england before. there was great bruit[ ] of that journey, and some preparation was made for it in scotland: but in the end, by persuasion of the cardinal beaton and others of his faction, the journey was stayed, and the king's promise was falsified. thereupon, sharp letters of reproach were sent unto the king, and also unto his council. king harry frustrated, returned to london; and, after declaring his indignation, began to fortify with men his frontiers fornent[ ] scotland. sir robert bowes, the earl of angus, and his brother, sir george douglas, were sent to the borders. upon what other trifling questions, as, for example, the debateable land and such like, the war broke out, we omit to write. the principal occasion was the falsifying of the promise. our king, perceiving that the war would rise, asked the prelates and kirkmen what support they would make to the sustaining of the same; for rather he would yet satisfy the desire of his uncle than would he hazard war, when he saw that his forces were not able to resist. the kirkmen promised mountains of gold, as satan their father did to christ jesus if he would worship him. they would have gone to hell, rather than that he should have met with king harry: for then, thought they, farewell our kingdom; and, thought the cardinal, farewell his credit and glory in france. in the end, they promised fifty thousand crowns a year, to be well paid, so long as the wars lasted; and further, that their servants, and others that appertained unto them and were exempt from common service, should not the less serve in time of necessity. [ ] talk (common). [ ] over against. [sidenote: war with england: . halden rig.] these vain promises lifted up in pride the heart of the unhappy king: and so began the war. the realm was quartered, and men were laid in jedburgh and kelso. all men, fools we mean, bragged of victory; and in very deed the beginning gave us a fair show. for at the first warden raid, which was made on st. bartholomew's day, in the year of god , the warden, sir robert bowes, his brother richard bowes, captain of norham, sir william mowbray, knight, a bastard son of the earl of angus, and james douglas of parkhead, then rebels, with a great number of borderers, soldiers, and gentlemen, were taken. the raid was termed halden rig. the earl of angus, and sir george his brother, did narrowly escape. our papists and priests, proud of this victory, encouraged the king. there was nothing heard but, "all is ours. they are but heretics. if we be a thousand and they ten thousand, they dare not fight. france shall enter the one part, and we the other, and so shall england be conquered within a year." if any man was seen to smile at such vanity, he was no more than a traitor and a heretic. and yet, by these means, men had greater liberty than they had before, as concerning their conscience; for then ceased the persecution. [sidenote: fala raid.] the war continued until mid september; and then was sent down the old duke of norfolk, with such an army as for a hundred years before had not come into scotland. the english were engaged in amassing their forces, and setting forward their preparations and munitions, which were exceeding great, until mid october, and after. then they marched from berwick and tended to the west, ever holding tweed upon their one side, and never camping more than a mile from that river during the whole time they continued in scotland, which was ten or twelve days. day forays were run to smailholm, stitchel, and such places near about, but many snappers[ ] they got. they burned some corn, besides that which the great host consumed, but they carried away small booty. the king assembled his force at fala, for he had information that they had proposed to advance on edinburgh. taking the muster all at one hour, two days before halloween, there were found with him eighteen thousand able men. ten thousand men, with the earl of huntly and lords erskine, seton and home, were upon the borders, awaiting the english army. these were adjudged men enough to hazard battle, albeit the enemy were estimated at forty thousand. [ ] stumbles. [sidenote: the lords plot against the courtiers.] while the king lay at fala, waiting for the guns and for information from the army, the lords began to remember how the king had been long abused by his flatterers, and principally by the pensioners of the priests. it was at once concluded that they would make some new remembrance of lauder-bridge, to see if that would for a season somewhat help the state of the country. but the lords amongst themselves could not agree upon the persons that deserved punishment. every man favoured his friend, and the whole escaped; and, besides, the purpose was disclosed to the king, and by him to the courtiers. after that, until they came to edinburgh, the courtiers stood in no little fear; but that was suddenly forgotten, as we shall hear. [sidenote: the english army retires.] while time was thus protracted, the english army, for scarcity of victuals, as was rumoured, retired over tweed by night, and so began to skaill.[ ] the king, informed of this, desired the lords and barons to assist him to follow them into england. with one consent, answer was given that they would hazard life and whatsoever they had to defend his person and the realm; but, as for invading england, neither had they so just title as they desired, nor could they be then able to do anything to the hurt of england, considering that they had now been long absent from their houses, their provisions were spent, their horses were wearied, and, greatest of all, the time of year did utterly forbid. this answer seemed to satisfy the king; for in words he praised their prudent foresight and wise counsel. but the mint[ ] made to his courtiers, and that bold repulse of his desires given to him in his own face, wounded his proud heart. long had he governed as he himself chose, and he decreed a notable revenge. this, no doubt, he would not have failed to have executed had not god, by his own hand, cut the cords of his impiety. he returned to edinburgh; and the nobility, barons, gentlemen, and commons dispersed to their own habitations. this was on the second and third days of november. [ ] disperse. [ ] threat. [sidenote: the courtiers and priests plot against the lords.] without delay, at the palace of holyroodhouse, a new council was convened, a council, we mean, of the abusers of the king. there accusation was laid against the most part of the nobility. some were heretics, some favourers of england, some friends to the douglases, and so could there be none faithful to the king, in their opinion. the cardinal and the priests cast faggots in the fire with all their force. finding the king wholly given over to their devotion, they delivered unto him a scroll containing the names of such as they, in their inquisition, deemed heretics. for this was the order of justice kept by these holy fathers in damning innocent men. whosoever would delate any one of heresy was heard; no respect or consideration was taken as to what mind the delater bare to the person delated. whosoever were produced as witnesses were admitted, however suspicious and infamous they were. if two or three had proven any point that by their law was holden heresy, the delated person was a heretic. there remained no more to be done but to fix a day for his condemnation, and for the execution of their corrupt sentence. the world may this day consider what man could be innocent where such judges were party. true it is that by false judgment and false witnesses innocents have been oppressed from the beginning. but never gat the devil his freedom to shed innocent blood except in the kingdom of antichrist, "that the innocent should die, and neither know accuser nor yet the witnesses that testified against him." but how shall the antichrist be known, if he be not contrarious to god the father and his son, christ jesus, in law, life, and doctrine. but this we omit. [sidenote: "an answer worthy of a prince."] the cardinal and prelates had once before presented the same scroll unto the king, at the time of his return from the circumnavigation of the isles. but then it was refused by the prudent and stout counsel of the laird of grange, who opened clearly to the king the practice[ ] of the prelates, and the danger that might ensue. the king, being out of his passion, was tractable, and after consideration gave answer in the palace of holyroodhouse to the cardinal and prelates, when they had uttered their malice and shown what profit might arise to the crown if he would follow their counsel. "pack you, jesuits; get you to your charges, reform your own lives, and be not instruments of discord betwixt my nobility and me; or else, i avow to god, i shall reform you, not by imprisonment, as the king of denmark does, nor yet by hanging and heading, as the king of england does, but i shall reform you by sharp whingers[ ] if ever i hear such motion of you again." the prelates, dashed and astonished by this answer, had ceased for a season to attempt, by rigour against the nobility, to pursue their schemes any further. [ ] intrigues. [ ] hangers (small swords). [sidenote: solway moss: how it began.] but now, being informed of all proceedings by their pensioners, oliver sinclair, ross, laird of craigie, and others who were faithful to them in all things, they concluded to hazard once again their former suit. this was no sooner proposed than it was accepted, with no small regret made by the king's own mouth that he had so long despised their counsel; "for," said he, "now i plainly see your words to be true. the nobility desire neither my honour nor continuance; they would not ride a mile for my pleasure to follow my enemies. will ye therefore find me the means whereby i may have a raid made into england, without their knowledge and consent--a raid that may be known as my own raid--and i shall bind me to your counsel for ever." there concurred together ahab and his false prophets; there were congratulations and clapping of hands; there were promises of diligence, closeness, and felicity. finally, conclusion was taken that the west border of england, which was most empty of men and garrisons, should be invaded; the king's own banner should be there; oliver, the great minion, should be general lieutenant; but no man should be privy of the enterprise, except the council that was then present, until the very day and execution thereof. the bishops gladly took the charge of that raid. letters were sent to such as they would charge to meet the king, on a day and at a place appointed. the cardinal was directed to go with the earl of arran to haddington, to make a show against the east border, when the others were in readiness to invade the west. and thus neither counsel, practice, closeness, nor diligence lacked to set forward that enterprise. and, among these consulters, there was no doubt of a good success. so was the scroll thankfully received by the king himself, and put into his own pocket, where it remained to the day of his death, and then was found. in it were contained the names of more than a hundred landed men, besides others of meaner degree. amongst these, the lord hamilton himself, then second person of the realm, was delated. it was bruited that this raid was devised by the lord maxwell; but we have no certainty thereof. the night before the day appointed for the enterprise, the king was found at lochmaben. to him came companies from all quarters, as they were appointed, no man knowing of another. no general proclamation had been made; all had been summoned by privy letters. nor did the multitude know anything of the purpose until after midnight, when the trumpet blew, and all men were commanded to march forward, and to follow the king, who was supposed to be with the host. guides were appointed to conduct them towards england, and these did so both faithfully and closely. upon the point of day, they approached to the enemies' ground; and passed the water without any great resistance made unto them. the foray went forward, fires rose, and herschip[ ] might have been seen on every side. the unprepared people were altogether amazed; for, bright day appearing, they saw an army of ten thousand men, and their corn and houses upon every side sending flames of fire unto the heaven. to them it was more than a wonder that such a multitude could have been assembled and convoyed, without knowledge thereof coming to their wardens. they looked not for support, and so at the first they utterly despaired. yet began they to assemble together, ten in one company, twenty in another; and, as the fray proceeded, their troops increased, but to no number; for carlisle, fearing to have been assaulted, suffered no man to issue from the gates. thus the greatest number that ever appeared or approached before the discomfiture, did not exceed three or four hundred men; and yet they made hot skirmishing, for, on their own ground, they were more expert in such feats. [ ] plundering. about ten o'clock, when fires had been kindled and almost slokened[ ] on every side, oliver thought it time to show his glory. incontinently,[ ] the king's banner was displayed; oliver was lifted up on spears upon men's shoulders, and there, with sound of trumpet, he was proclaimed general lieutenant, and all men were commanded to obey him, as the king's own person, under all highest pains. the lord maxwell, warden, to whom properly appertained the regiment, in absence of the king, was present; he heard and saw all, but thought more than he spake. there were also present the earls glencairn and cassillis, with the lord fleming, and many other lords, barons, and gentlemen of lothian, fife, angus, and mearns. [ ] quenched. [ ] forthwith. [sidenote: the rout at solway moss.] in the meantime, the skirmishing grew hotter than it had been before: shouts were heard on every side. some scotsmen were stricken down; some, not knowing the ground, laired,[ ] and lost their horses. some english horses were of purpose let loose, to provoke greedy and imprudent men to prick at them: many did so, but found no advantage. while disorder arose more and more in the army, men cried in every ear, "my lord lieutenant, what will ye do?" charge was given that all men should alight and go to array; for they would fight it. others cried, "against whom will ye fight? yon men will fight none otherwise than ye see them do, if ye stand here until the morn." new purpose was taken that the footmen (they had with them certain bands of soldiers) should softly retire towards scotland, and that the horsemen should take horse again, and follow in order. great was the noise and confusion that was heard, while every man called his own slogan.[ ] the day was nearly spent, and that was the cause of the greatest fear. [ ] stuck in the mire. [ ] battle-cry. the lord maxwell, perceiving what would be the end of such beginnings, remained on foot with his friends, and, being admonished to take horse and provide for himself, answered, "nay, i will here abide the chance that it shall please god to send me, rather than go home, and there be hanged." and so he remained on foot and was taken prisoner, while the multitude fled, to their greater shame. the enemy, perceiving the disorder, increased in courage. before, they had shouted; but then they struck. they threw spears and dagged[ ] arrows where the companies were thickest. some rencounters were made, but nothing availed. the soldiers cast from them their pikes, culverins, and other weapons of defence; the horsemen left their spears; and, without judgment, all men fled. the tide was rising, and the water made great stop; but the fear was such that happy was he that might get a tacker.[ ] such as passed the water and escaped that danger, not well acquainted with the ground, fell into the solway moss. the entry to it was pleasing enough, but all that took that way, either tint[ ] their horses or else themselves and horses both. [ ] shot. [ ] carrier. [ ] lost. to be short, a greater fear and discomfiture, without cause, has seldom been seen. it is said that, where the men were not sufficient to take the hands of prisoners, some ran to houses and surrendered themselves to women. stout oliver was taken, without stroke, fleeing manfully; and so was his glory (stinking and foolish pride we should call it) suddenly turned to confusion and shame. in that discomfiture were taken the two earls foresaid, the lords fleming and somerville, and many other barons and gentlemen, besides the great multitude of servants. worldly men may think that all this came but by misorder and fortune, as they term it; but whosoever has the least spunk[ ] of the knowledge of god, may as evidently see the work of his hand in this discomfiture, as ever was seen in any of the battles left to us on record by the holy ghost. for what more evident declaration have we that god fought against benhadad, king of aram, when he was discomfited at samaria, than that which we have that god fought with his own arm against scotland? in the former discomfiture, two hundred and thirty persons in the skirmish, with seven thousand following them in the great battle, did put to flight the said benhadad, with thirty kings in his company. but here, in this shameful discomfiture of scotland, very few more than three hundred men, without knowledge of any back or battle to follow, did put to flight ten thousand men without resistance made. there did every man rencounter his marrow,[ ] until the two hundred slew such as matched them. here, without slaughter, the multitude fled. there those of samaria had the prophet of god to comfort, to instruct, and to promise victory unto them. england, in that pursuit, had nothing. but god by his providence secretly wrought in these men that knew nothing of his working, nor yet of the causes thereof; no more than did the wall that fell upon the rest of benhadad's army know what it did. therefore, yet again we say that such as behold not in that sudden dejection the hand of god, fighting against pride for the freedom of his own little flock, unjustly persecuted, do willingly and maliciously obscure the glory of god. but the end was yet more notable. [ ] spark. [ ] match. [sidenote: the blow falls on the king.] the king waited upon news at lochmaben, and when the certain knowledge of the discomfiture came to his ears he was stricken with a sudden fear and astonishment, so that scarcely could he speak, or hold purposed converse with any man. the night constrained him to remain where he was, and so he went to bed; but he rose without rest or quiet sleep. his continual complaint was, "oh, fled oliver! is oliver ta'en? oh, fled oliver!" these words in his melancholy, and as if he were carried away in a trance, he repeated from time to time, to the very hour of his death. upon the morn, which was st. katherine's day, he returned to edinburgh, as did the cardinal from haddington. but the one being ashamed of the other, the bruit of their communication came not to the ears of the public. the king made inventory of his poise,[ ] and of all his jewels and other substance; and departed to fife. coming to hallyards, he was humanely received by the lady grange, an ancient and godly matron: the laird was absent. there were in his company only william kirkaldy, now laird of grange, and some others that waited upon his chamber. at supper, the lady, perceiving him pensive, began to comfort him, and urged him to take the work of god in good part. "my portion of this world is short," he replied, "for i will not be with you fifteen days." his servants, repairing unto him, asked where he would have provision made for yuletide, which then approached. he answered with a disdainful smirk, "i cannot tell: choose ye the place. but this i can tell you, ye will be masterless before yule day, and the realm without a king." because of his displeasure, no man durst make contradiction unto him. after he had visited the castle of carny, pertaining to the earl of crawford, where was the said earl's daughter, one of his paramours, he returned to falkland and took to bed. no sign of death appeared about him, but he constantly affirmed that, before such a day, he would be dead. [ ] secret hoard of money. [sidenote: the birth of mary stuart.] in the meantime the queen was upon the point of her delivery in linlithgow, and on the eighth day of december, in the year of god , was delivered of mary, that then was born, and now does reign for a plague to this realm, as the progress of her whole life to this day hath declared. the certainty that a daughter was born unto him coming to his ears, the king turned from such as spake with him, and said, "the devil go with it! it will end as it began: it came from a woman; and it will end in a woman." after that, he spake not many words that were sensible. but ever he harped upon his old song, "fie, fled oliver! is oliver ta'en? all is lost." [sidenote: the death of james v.] in the meantime came the cardinal, in the king's great extremity, an apt comforter for a desperate man. he cried in his ear, "take order, sire, with your realm: who shall rule during the minority of your daughter? ye have known my service, what will ye have done? shall there not be four regents chosen, and shall not i be principal of them?" whatsoever the king answered, documents were taken that things should be as my lord cardinal thought expedient. as many affirm, a dead man's hand was made to subscribe a blank, that they might write above the signature what pleased them best. this finished, the cardinal posted to the queen. at the first sight of the cardinal, she said, "welcome, my lord. is not the king dead?" divers men are of divers opinions as to what moved her so to conjecture. many whisper that of old his part was in the pot, and that the suspicion thereof caused him to be inhibited the queen's company. howsoever it may have been before, it is plain that, after the king's death, and during the cardinal's life, whosoever might guide the court, he got his secret business sped by that gracious lady, either by day or by night. whether the tidings liked her or not, she mended with as great expedition of that daughter as ever she did before of any son she bare. the time of her purification was accomplished sooner than the levitical law appoints: but she was no jewess, and therefore in that she offended not. king james departed this life on the thirteenth day of december, in the year of god , and on news thereof the hearts of men began to be disclosed. all men lamented that the realm was left without a male to succeed; yet some rejoiced that such an enemy to god's truth was taken away. by some he was called a good poor-man's king; by others he was termed a murderer of the nobility, and one that had decreed their utter destruction. some praised him for suppressing theft and oppression; others dispraised him for the defiling of men's wives and of virgins. men spake as affection led them. and yet none spake altogether beside the truth; for all these things were in part so manifest that, as the virtues could not be denied, so could not the vices be cloaked by any craft. [sidenote: the cardinal claims the regency.] throughout this realm the question of government was universally moved. the cardinal proclaimed the king's last will. therein were nominated four protectors or regents, of whom he himself was the first and principal, with him being joined the earls huntly, argyll, and moray. this was done on the monday at the market cross of edinburgh. but on the monday following the whole regents had remission from their usurpation. by the stout and wise counsel of the laird of grange, the earl of arran, then second person to the crown, caused assemble the nobility of the realm, and required the equity of their judgment in his just suit to be governor of this realm during the minority of her to whom he would succeed, in the event of her death without lawful succession. his friends convened, the nobility assembled, and the day of decision was appointed. the cardinal and his faction opposed themselves to the government of one man, and especially to the regiment of any called hamilton: "for who knows not," said the cardinal, "that the hamiltons are cruel murderers, oppressors of innocence, proud, avaricious, double, and false; and, finally, the pestilence in this commonwealth." thereto the said earl answered, "defraud me not of my right, and call me what ye please. whatsoever my friends have been, unto this day no man has had cause to complain upon me, nor am i minded to flatter any of my friends in their evil doing. by god's grace i shall be as forward to correct their enormities as any within the realm can reasonably require of me. and therefore, yet again, my lords, in god's name i crave that ye do me no wrong, nor defraud me of my just title, before ye have experience of my government." at these words, all that feared god or loved honesty were so moved that with one voice they cried, "that petition is most just, and unless we would act against god, justice, and equity, it cannot be denied." [sidenote: the earl of arran is proclaimed regent.] in despite of the cardinal and his suborned faction, the earl of arran was declared governor, and with public proclamation so announced to the people. the king's palace, treasure, jewels, garments, horse, and plate were delivered unto him by the officers that had the former charge; and he was honoured, feared, and obeyed more heartily than ever any king was before, so long as he abode in god. great favour was borne unto him, because it was bruited that he favoured god's word; and because it was well known that he was one appointed to have been persecuted, as the scroll, found in the king's pocket after his death, did witness. these two things, together with an opinion that men had of his simplicity, did, in the beginning, bow unto him the hearts of many who afterwards, with dolour of heart, were compelled to change their opinions. we omit a variety of matters, such as the order taken for keeping the young queen; the provision for the mother; and the home-calling of the douglases. these appertain to a universal history of the time. we seek only to follow the progress of religion, and of the matters that cannot be dissevered from the same. [sidenote: thomas williams and john rough preach, in despite of the friars.] the governor being established in government, godly men repaired unto him, and exhorted him to call to mind for what end god had exalted him; out of what danger he had delivered him; and what expectation all men of honesty had of him. at their suit, more than of his own motion, thomas williams, a black friar, was called to be preacher. the man was of solid judgment, reasonable letters for that age, and of a prompt and good utterance: his doctrine was wholesome, without great vehemence against superstition. john rough, who after, for the truth of christ jesus, suffered in england, in the days of mary of cursed memory, preached also sometimes, not so learnedly, yet more simply, and more vehemently against all impiety. the doctrine of these two provoked against them and against the governor the hatred of all that favoured darkness more than light, and their own bellies more than god. these slaves of satan, the grey friars (and amongst the rest friar scott, who before had given himself forth for the greatest professor of christ jesus within scotland, and under that colour had disclosed and so endangered many) croaked like ravens, yea, rather they yelled and roared like devils in hell, "heresy! heresy! williams and rough will carry the governor to the devil." [sidenote: edinburgh drowned in superstition.] the town of edinburgh was, for the most part, drowned in superstition: edward hope, young william adamson, sibella lindsay, patrick lindsay, francis aikman; and in the canongate, john mackay, ryngzean brown, with a few others, had the bruit[ ] of knowledge in those days. one wilson, servant to the bishop of dunkeld, who neither knew the new testament nor the old, made a despiteful railing ballad against the preachers and against the governor, and for this he narrowly escaped hanging. the cardinal moved both heaven and hell to trouble the governor and to stay the preaching; but the battle was stoutly fought for a season. he was taken prisoner, and was confined first in dalkeith, and after that in seton. but, in the end, by means of bribes given to lord seton and to the old laird of lethington, he was restored to st. andrews. thence he wrought all mischief, as we shall afterwards hear. [ ] repute. [sidenote: liberty to read the scriptures is demanded.] at the approach of parliament before easter, there began to be question of abolishing certain tyrannical acts, formerly made at the instance of the prelates, for maintaining of their kingdom of darkness; to wit, the act "that under pain of heresy, no man should read any part of the scriptures in the english tongue, nor yet any tractate or exposition of any place of scripture." such articles began to come into question, we say, and men began to inquire if it was not as lawful to men that understood no latin to use the word of their salvation in the tongue they understood, as it was for latin men to have it in latin, and for greeks or hebrews to have it in their tongues. it was answered that the first kirk had forbidden all tongues but these three. but men demanded when that inhibition was given; and what council had ordained that, considering that chrysostom complained that the people used not the psalms, and other holy books, in their own tongues? if it be said that these were greeks, and understood the greek tongue, we answer that christ jesus commanded his word to be preached to all nations. now, if it ought to be preached to all nations, it must be preached in the tongue they understand. if it be lawful to preach it and to hear it preached in all tongues, why should it not be lawful to read it, and to hear it read in all tongues, to the end that the people may try the spirits, according to the commandment of the apostle. beaten with these and other reasons, it was admitted that the word might be read in the vulgar tongue, provided that the translation were true. it was demanded, what could be reprehended in the translation used? much searching was made, but nothing could be found, except that "love," said they, was put in the place of "charity." when they were asked what difference was betwixt the one and the other, and whether they understood the nature of the greek term _agape_, they were dumb. the lord ruthven, father to him that prudently gave counsel to take just punishment upon that knave davie,[ ] a stout and discreet man in the cause of god, and mr. henry balnaves, an old professor, reasoned for the party of the seculars. for the clergy, hay, dean of restalrig, and certain old bosses[ ] with him. [ ] david rizzio. [ ] worthless characters. [sidenote: an open bible is secured.] the conclusion was that the commissioners of burghs and a part of the nobility required of the parliament that it might be enacted, "that it should be lawful to every man to use the benefit of the translation which then they had of the bible and new testament, together with the benefit of other tracts containing wholesome doctrine, until such time as the prelates and kirkmen should give and set forth unto them a translation more correct." the clergy hereto long repugned; but, in the end, convicted by reason and by multitude of contrary votes, they also acquiesced. so, by act of parliament, it was made free to all men and women to read the scriptures in their own tongue, or in the english tongue; and all acts of contrary effect were abolished. [sidenote: the bible becomes fashionable.] this was no small victory of christ jesus, fighting against the conjured enemies of his truth; no small comfort to such as before were so holden in bondage that they durst not have read the lord's prayer, the ten commandments, or the articles of their faith in the english tongue, without being accused of heresy. then might have been seen the bible lying upon almost every gentleman's table. the new testament was borne about in many men's hands. we grant that some, alas! profaned that blessed word; for some that, perchance, had never read ten sentences in it had it most commonly in their hands. they would chop their familiars on the cheek with it, and say, "this has lain hid under my bed-foot these ten years." others would glory, "oh! how often have i been in danger for this book. how secretly have i stolen from my wife at midnight to read upon it." many did this to make court; for all men esteemed the governor the most fervent protestant in europe. albeit many abused that liberty granted by god miraculously, the knowledge of god wondrously increased, and god gave his holy spirit to simple men in great abundance. then were set forth works in our own tongue, besides those that came from england, disclosing the pride, the craft, the tyranny, and the abuses of that roman antichrist. [sidenote: king harry suggests the betrothal of queen mary to prince edward.] the fame of our governor was spread in divers countries, and many praised god for him. king harry sent unto him his ambassador, mr. sadler, and he lay in edinburgh a great part of the summer. his commission and negotiation was to contract a perpetual amity betwixt england and scotland. god seemed to have offered the occasion, and to many men it appeared that from heaven he had declared his good pleasure in that proposal. for, to king harry, jane seymour (after the death of queen katherine, and of all others that might have made his marriage suspect) had borne a son, edward the sixth of blessed memory, older some years than our mistress, and unto us was left a queen. this wonderful providence of god caused men of greatest judgment to enter into disputation with themselves, whether, with good conscience, any man might repugn to the desires of the king of england, considering that thereby all occasion of war might be cut off, and great commodity might ensue to his realm. the offers of king harry were so large and his demands were so reasonable that all that loved quietness were content therewith. there were sent from the parliament to king harry, in commission, sir william hamilton, sir james learmonth, and mr. henry balnaves. these remained long in england, and so travailed that all things concerning the marriage betwixt edward the sixth and mary queen of scots were agreed upon, except the time of her deliverance to the custody of englishmen. [sidenote: the contract of marriage is adjusted and ratified.] for the final conclusion of this head, william, earl of glencairn, and sir george douglas, were added to the former commissioners, and to them were given ample commission and good instructions. mr. sadler remained in scotland. communications passed frequently, yea, the hands of our lords were liberally anointed. other commodities were promised, and by some received; for divers persons taken at solway moss were sent home, ransom free, upon promise of their fidelity,--how this was kept, the issue will witness. in the end, all were well content (the cardinal, the queen, and the faction of france ever excepted), and solemnly, in the abbey of holyroodhouse, the contract of marriage betwixt the persons foresaid, together with all the clauses and conditions requisite for the faithful observation thereof, was read in public audience, subscribed, sealed, approved, and allowed by the governor for his part, and the nobility and lords for their part. that nothing should lack that might fortify the matter, christ's sacred body, as papists term it, was broken betwixt the said governor and master sadler, ambassador, and received by them both as a sign and token of the unity of their minds, inviolably to keep that contract, in all points, as they looked to christ jesus to be saved, and to be reputed men worthy of credit before the world in after time. [sidenote: the papists refuse to acknowledge the contract.] the papists raged against the governor and against the lords that consented, and abode sweir[ ] at the contract. they made a brag that they would depose the governor, and confound all. without delay, they raised their forces and came to linlithgow, where the young queen was kept. but, upon the return of the ambassadors from england, pacification was made for that time. by the judgment of eight persons for either party, chosen to judge whether anything had been done by the ambassadors, in contracting that marriage, for which they had not sufficient power from the council and parliament, it was found that all things had been done by them according to their commission, and that these should stand. so the seals of england and scotland were interchanged. master james foulis, then clerk of register, received the great seal of england; and master sadler received the great seal of scotland. the heads of the contract we pass by. [ ] unwilling. as soon as these things were ratified, the merchants made frack[ ] to sail, and to resume the traffic which had for some years been hindered by the trouble of wars. from edinburgh were freighted twelve ships richly laden with the wares of scotland. from other towns and ports departed others. all arrived in yarmouth; and entered not only within roads, but also within ports and places where ships might be arrested. because of the lately contracted amity and the gentle entertainment that they received at first, they made no great expedition. being, as they supposed, in security, they spent the time in merriness, abiding upon the wind. [ ] made bustling preparation. [sidenote: the papists turn the tables.] in the meantime there arrived from france to scotland the abbot of paisley, called bastard brother to the governor, but by many esteemed son to crichton, the old bishop of dunkeld, and with him master david panter, afterwards bishop of ross. the bruit of the learning and honest life of these two, and of their fervency and uprightness in religion, was such that there was great hope that their presence should have been comfortable to the kirk of god. it was constantly affirmed that, without delay, the one and the other would occupy the pulpit, and truly preach jesus christ. few days disclosed their hypocrisy. what terrors, what promises, or what enchanting boxes they brought from france, the common people knew not, but shortly after it was seen that friar williams was inhibited from preaching, and so departed to england. john rough retired to kyle, a receptacle of god's servants of old. the men of counsel, judgment, and godliness that had travailed to promote the governor, and that gave him faithful counsel in all doubtful matters, were either craftily conveyed from him, or else, by threats of hanging, were compelled to leave him. of the former number were the laird of grange, master henry balnaves, master thomas bellenden, and sir david lyndsay of the mount; men by whose labours the governor was promoted to honour, and by whose counsel he so used himself at the beginning that the obedience given to him was nothing inferior to that possessed by any king of scotland for many years before. yea, it did surmount the common obedience, in that it proceeded from love of those virtues that were supposed to have been in him. of the number of those that were threatened were master michael durham, master david borthwick, david forrest, and david bothwell. these had counselled the governor to have in his company god-fearing men, and not to foster wicked men in their iniquity, albeit they were called his friends and were of his surname. when this counsel came to the ears of the foresaid abbot and the hamiltons, who then repaired to the court as ravens to the carrion, it was said in plain words, "my lord governor and his friends will never be in quietness, until a dozen of these knaves that abuse his grace be hanged." these words were spoken in his own presence, and in the presence of some of them that had better deserved than so to have been entreated. the speaker was allowed his bold and plain speaking, and the wicked counsel being tolerated, honest and godly men left the court and the governor in the hands of such as led him so far from god that he falsified his promise, dipped his hands in the blood of the saints of god, and brought this commonwealth to the very point of utter ruin. these were the first-fruits of the godliness and learning of the abbot of paisley: hereafter we will hear more. [sidenote: the abbot and the cardinal next threaten the regent.] all honest and godly men once banished from the court, the abbot and his council began to lay before the inconstant governor the dangers that might ensue the alteration and change of religion; the power of the king of france; and the commodity that might come to him and his house by retaining the ancient league with france. he was also called on to consider the great danger that he brought upon himself if, in any jot, he suffered the authority of the pope to be violated or called in question within this realm; for thereon alone stood the security of his right to the succession of the crown of this realm. by god's word, the divorcement of his father from elizabeth home, his first wife, would not be found lawful, his second marriage would be judged null, and he himself declared bastard. caiaphas spake prophecy, and wist not what he spake; for at that time there were no men that truly feared god that minded any such thing. with their whole force they would have fortified the title that god had given unto him, and things done in time of darkness would never have been called in question. another practice was used. the cardinal, being now at liberty, ceased not to traffic with such of the nobility as he might draw to his faction or corrupt by any means, seeking thereby to raise a party against the said governor, and against such as stood fast for the contract of marriage and peace with england. the said cardinal, the earls argyll, huntly, and bothwell, and the bishops and their bands, assembled at linlithgow: thereafter they passed to stirling, and took with them both the queens, the mother and the daughter, and threatened the deposition of the said governor, as inobedient to their holy mother the kirk, as they term the harlot of babylon, rome. [sidenote: the regent breaks faith with england, and receives absolution.] the inconstant man, not thoroughly grounded upon god, was left destitute of all good counsel by his own default, and had the wicked ever blowing in his ears, "what will ye do! ye will destroy yourself and your house for ever." beaten with these temptations, the unhappy man surrendered himself to the appetites of the wicked. quietly stealing away from the lords that were with him in the palace of holyroodhouse, he passed to stirling, subjected himself to the cardinal and to his council, received absolution, renounced the profession of the holy evangel of christ jesus, and violated the oath that he had made for observation of the contract and league with england. [sidenote: king harry remonstrates without avail.] at that time our queen was crowned, and new promise was made to france. the certainty hereof coming to king harry, our scottish ships were stayed, the sails taken from their rays,[ ] and the merchants and mariners were commanded to sure custody. new commission was sent to master sadler, who still remained in scotland, to demand the reason for that sudden alteration, and to travail by all means possible that the governor might be called back to his former godly purpose, and that he would not do so foolishly and inhonestly, yea so cruelly and unmercifully, to the realm of scotland. he was assured that he would not only lose the commodities offered and presently to be received, but that he would also expose scotland to the hazard of fire and sword, and other inconveniences that might arise from the war that would follow upon the violation of his faith: but nothing could avail. the devil kept fast the grip that he had got, yea, even all the days of his government. the cardinal got his eldest son in pledge, and kept him in the castle of st. andrews until the day that god punished his pride. [ ] yards. [sidenote: war is declared by king harry.] king harry, perceiving that all hope of the governor's repentance was lost, called back his ambassador, and that with fearful threatenings, as edinburgh afterwards felt. he proclaimed war, made our ships prizes, and our merchants and mariners lawful prisoners, and this alone was no small hardship to the burghs of scotland. but the cardinal and priests did laugh, and jestingly said, "when we shall conquer england, the merchants shall be recompensed." the summer and the harvest passed over without any notable thing. the cardinal and abbot of paisley parted the prey betwixt them: the abused governor bare the name only. [sidenote: the revolt of the earl of lennox.] in the beginning of the winter the earl of lennox came to scotland, sent from france in hatred of the governor, whom the king, by the cardinal's advice, promised to pronounce bastard, and so make the said earl governor. the cardinal further put the earl in vain hope that the queen dowager would marry him. he brought with him some money, and more he afterwards received from the hands of la broche. but, at length, perceiving himself frustrated of all expectation that he had either from the king of france, or yet from the promise of the cardinal, he concluded to seek the favour of england, and began to draw a faction against the governor. in hatred of the other's inconstancy, many favoured him in the beginning. at yule there assembled in the town of ayr, the earls of angus, glencairn, and cassillis, the lords maxwell and somerville, the laird of drumlanrig, and the sheriff of ayr, with all the force that they and the lords that remained constant to england might make. after yule they came to leith. the governor and cardinal, with their forces, kept edinburgh, for they were slackly pursued. men excused the earl of lennox in this matter, and laid the blame upon some that had no good will towards the regiment of the stuarts. however it was, the said earl of lennox was disappointed of his purpose, and narrowly escaped; and first got himself to glasgow, and after that to dumbarton. sir george douglas was delivered to be kept as pledge. the earl his brother was taken at the siege of glasgow in the following lent. it was bruited that both the brethren and others with them would have lost their heads if, by the providence of god, the english army had not arrived sooner. [sidenote: cardinal beaton stirs up strife betwixt his enemies.] after the cardinal had got the governor wholly under his control, and had obtained his desires concerning a part of his enemies, he began to practise that such as he feared and therefore hated should be set by the ears, one against another. in that, thought the carnal man, stood his greatest security. the lord ruthven he hated, by reason of his knowledge of god's word: the lord gray he feared, because at that time he sought the company of such as professed godliness, and bare small favour to the cardinal. now the worldly-wise man reasoned thus: "if i can put enmity betwixt those two, i shall be quit of a great number of unfriends; for the most part of the country will either assist the one or the other; and, otherwise occupied, they will not watch for my displeasure." without long process, he found the necessary means; for he laboured with john charteris, a man of stout courage and many friends, to accept the provostship of perth, which he purchased[ ] to him by donation of the governor, with a charge to the said town to obey him as their lawful provost. thereat, not only the said lord ruthven, but also the town was offended. these gave a negative answer, alleging that such intrusion of men into office was hurtful to their privilege and freedom. this granted unto them free election of their provost from year to year, at a certain time appointed, and this they could not or would not prevent.[ ] [ ] procured. [ ] anticipate. the said john, offended hereat, said that he would occupy that office by force, if they would not give it unto him of benevolence; and so departed, and communicated the matter with the lord gray, with norman leslie, and with other friends. these he easily persuaded to assist him in that pursuit, because he appeared to have the governor's right, and had not only a charge to the town, but also had purchased letters empowering him to besiege it and to take it by strong hand, if any resistance were made unto him. these letters made many favour his action. the other party made for defence, and the master of ruthven (the lord that afterwards departed to england) undertook the maintenance of the town, having in his company the laird of moncrieffe, and other neighbouring friends. [sidenote: the fight for the provostship of perth.] the said john made frack for the pursuit; and upon the magdalene's day, in the morning, anno , approached with his forces, the lord gray taking upon him the principal charge. norman leslie, with his friends, should have come by ship, with munition and ordnance, and they were in readiness. but because the tide served not soon, the other, thinking himself of sufficient force for all that were in the town, entered by the bridge. they found no resistance until the foremost were well within the fish gate, when the master of ruthven, with his company, stoutly rencountered them, and so rudely repulsed them that such as were behind gave back. the place of the retreat was so strait, that men durst not fight, and could not flee at their pleasure, for lord gray and his friends were upon the bridge. the slaughter was great; for there fell by the edge of the sword threescore men. the cardinal had rather that the unhap had fallen on the other side; but, howsoever it was, he thought that such trouble was for his comfort and advantage. the knowledge of this came unto the ears of the party that had received the discomfiture, and was unto them no small grief. many of them had entered into that action for his pleasure, and thought they should have had his fortification and assistance. finding themselves frustrated, they began to look more narrowly to themselves, and did not so much attend upon the cardinal's devotion, as they had been wont to do. thus was a new jealousy engendered amongst them; for whosoever would not play to him the good valet was reputed amongst his enemies. [sidenote: treachery of the cardinal.] the cardinal drew the governor to dundee; for he understood that the earl of rothes and master henry balnaves were with the lord gray in the castle of huntly. the governor sent command to the said earl and lord, with the foresaid master henry, to come unto him to dundee, and appointed the next day, at ten o'clock forenoon. this hour they decreed to keep; and for that purpose assembled their folks at balgavie. they were more than three hundred men, and the cardinal, informed of their number, thought it not good that they should join with the town, for he feared his own estate; and so he persuaded the governor to pass forth from dundee before nine o'clock, and to take the straight road to perth. the lords, perceiving this, began to fear that they were come to pursue them, and so put themselves in order and array, and marched forward of purpose to have bidden[ ] the uttermost. [ ] abode. the crafty fox, foreseeing that his security stood not in fighting, ran to his last refuge, that is, to manifest treason; and consultation was taken as to how the force of the others might be broken. and at the first, the laird of grange and the provost of st. andrews, knowing nothing of treason, were sent to ask, "why they molested my lord governor in his journey?" thereto they answered that "nothing was less their intention; for they had come at his grace's commandment, to keep the hour in dundee appointed by him. when they saw this prevented, and knew the cardinal to be their unfriend, they could not but suspect their coming forth of the town contrary to previous arrangement. they had therefore put themselves in order, not to invade, but to defend in case they were invaded." this answer being reported, there was sent to them the archbishop of st. andrews, master david panter, and the lairds of buccleuch and coldinknowes, to desire certain of the other company to talk with them. this was easily obtained, for they suspected no treason. after long communication, it was demanded whether the earl and lord and master henry foresaid would not be content to talk with the governor, provided that the cardinal and his company were off the ground? they answered that the governor might command them in all things lawful, but that they had no will to be at the cardinal's mercy. fair enough promises were made for their security. then the cardinal and his band were commanded to depart; and, according to the purpose taken, he did so. the governor remained, and another with him; and, without company, the said earl, lord, and master henry came to him. after many fair words given unto them all, protesting that he would have them agreed with the cardinal, and that he would have master henry balnaves the worker and instrument thereof, he drew them forward with him towards perth, whither the cardinal had ridden. when it was too late, they began to suspect, and desired to have returned to their folk. but it was answered, "they should send back from the town, but they must needs go forward with my lord governor." and so, partly by flattery and partly by force, they were compelled to obey. as soon as ever they were within the town they were apprehended, and upon the morn all three were sent to black ness. there they remained so long as it pleased the cardinal's graceless grace, and that was until bond of manrent[ ] and of service set some of them at liberty. thus the cardinal with his craft prevailed on every side; so that the scots proverb was true in him, "so long runs the fox, as he foot has." [ ] vassalage. [sidenote: the persecution at perth.] we cannot affirm whether it was on this journey, or at another date, that that bloody butcher executed his cruelty upon the innocent persons in perth. indeed, we do not study to be curious; we travail to express the actual facts, rather than scrupulously and exactly to record day and date, although we do not omit these when we are certain of them. the truth in regard to the cruel deed at perth is this. on st. paul's day, before the first burning in edinburgh, the governor and cardinal came to perth, and there, upon envious delation, a great number of honest men and women were called before the cardinal, and accused of heresy. albeit they could be convicted of nothing more than suspicion that they had eaten a goose upon friday, four men were adjudged to be hanged, and a woman to be drowned; and this cruel and most unjust sentence was unmercifully put into execution. the husband was hanged, and the wife, having a sucking babe upon her breast, was drowned. "o lord, the land is not yet purged from such beastly cruelty; neither has thy just vengeance yet stricken all that were criminal of their blood. but the day approaches when the punishment of that cruelty and of others will evidently appear." the names of the men that were hanged were james hunter, william lamb, william anderson, and james ronaldson, burgesses of perth. at that same time there were banished sir henry elder, john elder, walter pyper, lawrence pullar, and divers others whose names have not come to our knowledge. that sworn enemy to christ jesus, and unto all in whom any spunk of true knowledge appeared, had divers persons in prison about that same time. amongst these was john roger, a black friar--godly, learned, and one that had fruitfully preached christ jesus, to the comfort of many in angus and mearns. him that bloody man caused to be murdered in the ground of the sea-tower of st. andrews, thereafter causing his body to be cast over the crag, sparsing[ ] a false bruit that the said john, seeking to flee, had broken his own craig.[ ] [ ] spreading abroad. [ ] neck. [sidenote: the english invade scotland, and sack edinburgh and leith.] thus satan ceased not, by all means, to maintain his kingdom of darkness, and to suppress the light of christ's evangel. but potent is he against whom they fought; for, when the wicked were surest of their triumph, god began to show his anger. on the third day of may, in the year of god , without knowledge of any of those in scotland who should have had the care of the realm, there was seen a great fleet of ships approaching the forth. posts came to the governor and cardinal, who both were in edinburgh, informing them of the multitude of ships seen, and of the course they took. this was upon the saturday, before noon. some said there was no doubt they were englishmen and would land. the cardinal scripped[ ] and said, "it is but the island fleet: they are come to make a show, and put us in fear. i shall lodge in my eye all the men-of-war that shall land in scotland." the cardinal sat still at his dinner, as if there had been no apparent danger. men ran together to gaze upon the ships, some to the castle hill, some to the crags and other eminent places. but no one asked what forces we had for resistance, if we should be invaded. soon after six o'clock at night, more than two hundred sails were arrived and had cast anchor in the road of leith. shortly thereafter, the admiral shot a fleet boat, and this sounded the depth of water from granton crags unto the east of leith, and then returned to her ship. men of judgment foresaw what this meant. but no credit was given to any that said, "they mind to land." and so everybody went to bed, as if these ships had been a guard for their defence. [ ] mocked. upon the point of day, upon sunday, the fourth of may, the fleet made ready for landing, and arranged their ships so that a galley or two laid their snouts to the crags. the small ships, called pinnaces and light horsemen, approached as near as they could. the great ships discharged their soldiers into the smaller vessels, and these, by boats, set upon dry land, before ten o'clock, ten thousand men, as was judged, and more. the governor and cardinal, seeing then what they could not, or at least would not, believe before, after they had made a brag to fight, fled as fast as horse would carry them; nor did they afterwards approach within twenty miles of the danger. the earl of angus and george douglas were that night freed of ward in black ness, and the said sir george in merriness said, "i thank king harry and my gentle masters of england." the english army entered leith betwixt twelve and one, found the tables covered, the dinners prepared, and abundance of wine and victuals, besides other substance. the like riches within the like bounds were not to be found, either in scotland or england. upon the monday, the fifth of may, there came to them from berwick and the border, two thousand horsemen; and, after these had rested somewhat, the army, upon the wednesday, marched towards the town of edinburgh, spoiled and burnt the same, and also the palace of holyroodhouse. the horsemen took the house of craigmillar, and got great spoil therein; for, it being judged the strongest house near the town, other than the castle of edinburgh, men sought to place their movables therein for safety. but the courageous laird gave it over without shot of hackbut, and for his reward was caused to march upon foot to london. he is now captain of dunbar and provost of edinburgh. the englishmen seeing no resistance, hurled[ ] cannons up the causeway to the butter-throne, or above, and hazarded a shot at the fore-entry of the castle. but that was to their own discomfiture; for, without trench or gabion, they were exposed to the force of the whole ordnance of the said castle. this opened fire, and not all in vain; for the wheel and axletree of one of the english cannons were broken, and some of their men were slain. so, with small honour, they left off that enterprise, which was taken in rashness rather than of any advised counsel. when for the most part of the day the english had spoiled and burned, they returned to leith towards the night; upon the morrow returning to edinburgh, and executing the rest of god's judgments for that time. when they had consumed both towns, they laded the ships with spoil thereof, and returned to berwick by land, using the country for the most part at their own pleasure. [ ] wheeled. this was a part of the punishment which god laid upon the realm for the infidelity of the governor, and for the violation of his solemn oath. but this was not the end; for the realm was divided into two factions: the one favoured france; the other the league lately contracted with england. in nothing did the one thoroughly trust the other. the country was in extreme calamity; for divers strongholds, such as carlaverock, lochmaben, and langholm, were delivered to the english. and the most part of the borders were confederate with england. albeit sir ralph evers and many other englishmen were slain at ancrum moor, in february, in the year of god , and in the year after some of the said strongholds were recovered, this was not accomplished without great loss and detriment to the commonwealth. [sidenote: france comes to the aid of cardinal beaton.] in the month of june, in the year of god , monsieur de lorge montgomery, with bands of men of war, came from france for a further destruction to scotland; and upon their brag was an army raised and pushed forward towards wark, even in the midst of harvest. the cardinal's banner was that day displayed, and all his dependents were charged to be under it. many had promised to follow the standard, but in the issue it was left so bare that for shame it was shut up in the pock[ ] again, and after a show the army returned, with more shame to the realm than scathe to their enemies. the black book of hamilton makes mention of great vassalage[ ] done at that time by the governor and the french. but such as with their eyes saw the whole progress knew that to be a lie, and do repute it amongst the venial sins of that race, which is to speak the best of themselves they can. [ ] bag; case. [ ] feats of valour. the following winter so nurtured the french men that they learned to eat, yea to beg, cakes which at their entry they scorned. without jesting, they were so miserably treated, that few returned to france again with their lives. the cardinal had then almost fortified the castle of st. andrews, and he made this so strong, in his opinion, that he regarded neither england nor france. the earl of lennox, as we have said, disappointed of all things in scotland, passed to england, where he received protection from king harry, who gave him lady margaret douglas to wife. of her was born harry,[ ] umquhile[ ] husband to our jezebel mistress. [ ] henry, lord darnley. [ ] late; deceased. [sidenote: john hamilton, abbot of paisley.] while the inconstant governor was sometimes dejected and sometimes raised up again by the abbot of paisley, who before was called "chaster than any maiden," the latter began to show himself; for, after he had by craft taken the castles of edinburgh and dunbar, he took also possession of his eme's[ ] wife, the lady stenhouse. the woman is and has been famous, and is called lady gylton. her ladyship was holden always in property; but how many wives and virgins he has had since that time in common, the world knows, albeit not all, and his bastard birds bear some witness. such is the example of holiness that the flock may receive of the papistical bishops. [ ] kinsman's. [sidenote: master george wishart comes to scotland.] in the midst of all the calamities that came upon the realm after the defection of the governor from christ jesus, there came to scotland, in the year of god , that blessed martyr of god, master george wishart, in company of the commissioners before mentioned. a man of such graces was never before him heard of within this realm; yea, and such graces are yet rarely found in any man, notwithstanding the great light of god that since his days has shined upon us. he was not only singularly learned, as well in godly knowledge as in all honest human science, but he was also so clearly illuminated with the spirit of prophecy that he saw not only things pertaining to himself, but also such things as some towns and the whole realm afterwards felt. these he forespake, not in secret, but in the audience of many, as in their own places shall be declared. [sidenote: he is driven from dundee.] he began teaching in montrose. thence he went to dundee, where, with great admiration of all that heard him, he taught the epistle to the romans, until, by procurement of the cardinal, robert mill, then one of the principal men in dundee, and a man that of old had professed knowledge and for the same had suffered trouble, did, in the queen's and governor's name, give inhibition to the said master george that he should trouble their town no more; for they would not suffer it. this was said unto him in the public place. after musing for some time, with his eyes bent to heaven, he looked sorrowfully to the speaker and to the people, and said, "god is witness that i never minded your trouble but your comfort. yea, your trouble is more dolorous unto me, than it is unto yourselves. but i am assured that the refusal of god's word and the chasing from you of his messenger shall not preserve you from trouble; it shall bring you into it. god shall send unto you messengers who will not be afraid of horning,[ ] nor yet of banishment. i have offered unto you the word of salvation, and at the hazard of my life i have remained amongst you. now ye yourselves refuse me, and therefore must i leave my innocency to be declared by my god. if it be long prosperous with you, i am not led by the spirit of truth. but if trouble unlooked for apprehend you, do ye acknowledge the cause, and turn to god, for he is merciful. if ye turn not at the first, he shall visit you with fire and sword." these words pronounced, he came down from the preaching place. [ ] outlawry. [sidenote: master george goes to kyle.] the lord marischall and divers gentlemen were present in the kirk, and these would have had the said master george remain, or else have gone with him into the country. but for no request would he any longer tarry, either in the town or on that side of tay. with all possible expedition he passed to the west-land, where he began to offer god's word. this was gladly received by many, until dunbar, archbishop of glasgow, by instigation of the cardinal, came with his gatherings to the town of ayr, to make resistance to the said master george, and did first occupy the kirk. the earl of glencairn being informed of this, repaired with diligence to the town with his friends, and so did divers gentlemen of kyle (amongst whom was the laird of leifnorris, a man far different from him that now liveth, in manners and religion) of whom to this day many yet live, and have declared themselves always zealous and bold in the cause of god. when all were assembled, conclusion was taken that they would have possession of the kirk. but master george utterly repugned, saying, "let him alone; his sermon will not do much hurt. let us go to the market cross." this they did, and there he made so notable a sermon that the very enemies themselves were confounded. the archbishop preached to his jackmen and some old bosses of the town. the sum of all his sermon was: "they say that we should preach: why not? better late thrive than never thrive: hold us still for your bishop, and we shall provide better for the next time." this was the beginning and the end of the archbishop's sermon. with haste he departed from the town, nor did he return to fulfil his promise. the said master george remained with the gentlemen in kyle, until he should get sure knowledge of the state of dundee. he preached commonly at the kirk of galston and much in the barr. he was required to come to the kirk of mauchline, and did so. but the sheriff of ayr manned the kirk, for preservation of a tabernacle that was there, beautiful to the eye. the persons that held the kirk were george campbell of monkgarswood, who yet liveth, mungo campbell of brounsyde, george reid in daldilling, and the laird of templeland. some zealous men of the parish, among whom was hugh campbell of kinyeancleuch, offended that they should be debarred their parish kirk, determined to enter by force. but the said master george drew the said hugh aside, and said unto him, "brother, christ jesus is as potent upon the fields as in the kirk; and i find that he himself preached in the desert, at the sea side, and other places judged profane, more often than he did in the temple of jerusalem. it is the word of peace that god sends by me; the blood of no man shall be shed this day for the preaching of it." and so, withdrawing the whole people, he came to a dyke at the side of a moor, upon the south-west side of mauchline, and upon this he climbed. the whole multitude stood and sat about him, god giving a pleasing and hot day. he continued in preaching more than three hours. in that sermon, god wrought so wonderfully with him that one of the most wicked men that was in that country, lawrence rankin, laird of sheill, was converted. the tears ran from his eyes in such abundance that all men wondered. his conversion was without hypocrisy, for his life and conversation witnessed it in all after-times. [sidenote: the plague comes to dundee: wishart returns.] while this faithful servant of god was thus occupied in kyle, word came that the plague of pestilence had arisen in dundee. this had begun within four days after master george was inhibited from preaching, and was so vehement that it almost passed credibility to hear what number died every four-and-twenty hours. this certainly understood, master george took his leave of kyle, with the regret of many. no request could make him remain. "they are now in trouble," he said, "and they need comfort. perchance this hand of god will make them now to magnify and reverence that word, which before, for the fear of men, they set at light price." on his coming to dundee, the joy of the faithful was exceeding great. he delayed no time, but even upon the morrow gave signification that he would preach. the most part were either sick or were in company with those that were sick, and for this reason he chose the head of the east port of the town for his preaching place. those who were whole sat or stood within the port, the sick and suspected without. the text of his first sermon was taken from the hundred-and-seventh psalm, "he sent his word and healed them;" joining therewith these words, "it is neither herb nor plaster, o lord, but thy word healeth all." in this sermon he most comfortingly treated of the dignity and utility of god's word; the punishment that comes for contempt of the same; the promptitude of god's mercy to such as truly turn to him; yea, the great happiness of them whom god takes from this misery, even in his own gentle visitation, a happiness that the malice of man can neither eke nor pare.[ ] [ ] increase nor diminish. by this sermon master george so raised up the hearts of all that heard him that they regarded not death, but judged those more happy that should depart, than such as should remain behind; considering that they knew not if they should have such a comforter with them at all times. master george did not hesitate to visit them that lay in the very extremity of sickness. them he comforted as well as he might in such a multitude. he also caused that all things necessary for those that could use meat or drink should be ministered; and in that respect the town was wondrously benefited; for the poor were no more neglected than were the rich. [sidenote: the cardinal attempts to assassinate wishart at dundee.] while master george wishart was spending his life to comfort the afflicted, the devil ceased not to stir up his own son the cardinal again. he, by money, corrupted a desperate priest named sir john wighton to slay the said master george, who did not look to himself in all things so circumspectly as worldly men would have wished. one day, the sermon ended, and the people departing, suspecting no danger and therefore not heeding the said master george, the priest that was corrupted stood waiting at the foot of the steps, his gown loose, and his drawn whinger in his hand under his gown. the said master george, who was most sharp of eye and judgment, marked him, and as he came near said, "my friend, what would ye do?" therewith he clapped his hand upon the priest's hand wherein the whinger was, and took this from him. the priest, abashed, fell down at his feet and openly confessed the truth. the noise coming to the ears of the sick, they cried, "deliver the traitor to us, or else we will take him by force;" and burst in at the gate. but master george took him in his arms and said, "whosoever troubles him shall trouble me. he has hurt me in nothing, but has done great comfort both to you and me, he has let us understand what we may fear in times to come. we will watch better." thus he appeased both the one part and the other, and saved the life of him that sought his. when the plague was so ceased that there were almost none sick, master george took his leave of the people of dundee; saying that god had almost put end to that battle, and he found himself called to another. the gentlemen of the west had written unto him that he should meet them at edinburgh; for they would demand disputation with the bishops, and he should be publicly heard. thereto he willingly agreed; but first he passed to montrose to salute the kirk there. there he remained, occupied sometimes in preaching but for the most part in secret meditation, in which he was so earnest that he would continue in it night and day. [sidenote: further treachery of the cardinal.] while master george was so occupied with his god, the cardinal drew a secret draught for his slaughter. he caused to be written unto him a letter, purporting to be from his most familiar friend, the laird of kynneir, desiring him to come unto him with all possible diligence, for he was stricken with a sudden sickness. in the meantime the traitor had provided threescore men, with jacks[ ] and spears, to lie in wait within a mile and a half of the town of montrose, for his despatch. the letter coming to his hand, he made haste at the first, for the boy had brought a horse; and so with some honest men, he passed forth of the town. but suddenly he stayed and, musing a space, turned back. "i will not go," he said; "i am forbidden by god. i am assured there is treason. let some of you go to yonder place, and tell me what ye find." diligence made, they found the treason, as it was; and this being shown with expedition to master george, he answered, "i know that i shall finish my life in that bloodthirsty man's hands; but it will not be in this manner." [ ] coats of mail. [sidenote: the agony of master george wishart.] when the time at which he had appointed to meet the gentlemen at edinburgh approached, master george took his leave of montrose, and, sorely against the judgment of the laird of dun, entered on his journey. he returned to dundee, but did not remain, going on to the house of a faithful brother named james watson, who dwelt in invergowrie, two miles distant from the said town. that night, according to information given to us by william spadin and john watson, both men of good credit, he passed forth into a yard, a little before day. the said william and john followed privily, and took heed what he did. when he had gone up and down in an alley for some time, with many sobs and deep groans, he platt upon his knees, and remaining thus, his groans increased. from his knees, he fell upon his face; and then the persons forenamed heard weeping, and an indistinct sound, as it were of prayers. in this agony he continued for nearly an hour, and afterwards began to be quiet, when he arose and came in to his bed. they that had watched got in before master george, as if they had been ignorant of his absence until he came in; and then they began to ask where he had been. but that night he would answer nothing. upon the morrow they urged him again; and, when he dissimulated, they said, "master george, be plain with us; we heard your groans; yea, we heard your bitter mourning, and saw you both upon your knees and upon your face." with dejected visage, he said, "i had rather ye had been in your beds. it would have been more profitable for you, for i was scarcely well employed." they insistently urged him to let them know something for their comfort, and he then said, "i will tell you that i am assured that my travail is near an end. therefore call to god with me, that now i shrink not, when the battle waxes most hot." when they wept, and said, that was "small comfort unto them;" he answered, "god shall send you comfort after me. this realm shall be illuminated with the light of christ's evangel, as clearly as ever was any realm since the days of the apostles. the house of god shall be builded in it. yea, it shall not lack the very copestone, whatsoever the enemy imagine to the contrary." neither shall this be long; there shall not many suffer after me, before the glory of god shall evidently appear, and shall once triumph in despite of satan. but, alas! if the people shall thereafter be unthankful, fearful and terrible shall the plagues be that shall follow." with these words he marched forward in his journey towards perth; and so to fife, and then to leith. [sidenote: master george arrives in leith.] arrived in leith, and hearing no word of those that had appointed to meet him, to wit, the earl of cassillis and the gentlemen of kyle and cunningham, master george kept himself secret for a day or two. but beginning to wax sorrowful in spirit, and being asked the cause, he said, "what differ i from a dead man, except that i eat and drink? unto this time, god has used my labours for the instruction of others, and for the disclosing of darkness; and now i lurk as a man that is ashamed, and dare not show himself before men." from these and like words, they that heard him understood that his desire was to preach; and therefore said they, "most comfortable it were unto us to hear you; but, because we know the danger wherein ye stand, we dare not desire you." "only dare ye and others hear," said he, "and then let my god provide for me, as best pleaseth him." finally, it was concluded that he should preach in leith on the next sunday. this he did, taking the text, "the parable of the sower that went forth to sow seed." (matthew xiii.) this was fifteen days before yule. [sidenote: for safety he is removed to the lothians; preaches at inveresk.] the sermon ended, the gentlemen of lothian, who then were earnest professors of christ jesus, thought it not expedient that master george should remain in leith, as the governor and cardinal were shortly to come to edinburgh. therefore they took him with them, and kept him sometimes in brunstone, sometimes in longniddry, and sometimes in ormiston; for those three lairds diligently waited upon him. on the sunday following, he preached in the kirk of inveresk, beside musselburgh, both before and after noon. there was a great congregation of people, amongst them being sir george douglas, who said publicly after the sermon, "i know that my lord governor and my lord cardinal shall hear that i have been at this preaching. say unto them that i will avow it, and will not only maintain the doctrine that i have heard, but also the person of the teacher, to the uttermost of my power." these words greatly rejoiced the people and the gentlemen then present. we cannot pass by one notable thing in that sermon. amongst others, there came two grey friars, who, standing in the entry of the kirk door, made some whispering to such as came in. this perceived, the preacher said to the people that stood nigh them, "i heartily pray you to make room for those two men. it may be that they be come to learn." unto them he said, "come near,"--they stood in the very entry of the door,--"for i assure you ye shall hear the word of truth, which shall this same day seal unto you your salvation, or your condemnation." he then proceeded with his sermon, supposing that they would have been quiet. but, when he perceived that they still troubled the people that stood nigh them (for vehement was he against the false worshipping of god), he turned unto them the second time, and with an awful countenance said, "o sergeants of satan and deceivers of the souls of men, will ye neither hear god's truth, nor suffer others to hear it? depart, and take this for your portion,--god shall shortly confound and disclose your hypocrisy. within this realm ye shall be abominable unto men, and your places and habitations shall be desolate." this sentence he pronounced with great vehemence, in the midst of the sermon; and, turning to the people, he said, "yon wicked men have provoked the spirit of god to anger." then he returned to his matter, and proceeded to the end. that day's travail ended, he came to longniddry; and on the two next sundays he preached in tranent, with the like grace and like confluence of people. in all his sermons, after his departure from angus, he forespake the shortness of the time that he had to travail, and of his death, the day whereof, he said, approached nigher than any would believe. [sidenote: master george goes to haddington.] towards the close of those days that are called the holy days of yule, he passed, by the consent of the gentlemen, to haddington, where it was supposed the greatest confluence of people might be found, both by reason of the town and of the country adjacent. on the first day, before noon, the audience was reasonable, and yet nothing in comparison with that which used to be in that kirk. but, in the afternoon and on the next forenoon, the audience was so slender that many wondered. the reason was thought to have been that the earl bothwell, who in these bounds had great credit and obedience, had, by procurement of the cardinal, given inhibition to the town, as well as to the country, that they should not hear master george, under the pain of his displeasure. on the first night he lay within the town with david forrest, now called the general, a man that long has professed the truth, and upon whom many in that time depended. on the second night he lay in lethington, the laird whereof was ever civil, albeit not persuaded in religion. [sidenote: john knox's first appearance.] on the day following, before the said master george passed to the sermon, a boy came to him with a letter from the west land. this read, he called for john knox, who had waited upon him carefully from the time he came to lothian. with him he began to enter into purpose,[ ] saying that he wearied of the world, for he perceived that men began to weary of god. the cause of his complaint was that the gentlemen of the west had written to him that they could not keep diet at edinburgh. the said john knox, wondering that he desired to keep any purpose before sermon, for that was never his custom, said, "sir, the time of sermon approaches: i will leave you for the present to your meditation;" and so left him. the said master george paced up and down behind the high altar for more than half an hour; his very countenance and visage declared the grief and alteration of his mind. at last he passed to the pulpit, but the audience was small. [ ] conversation. [sidenote: the last sermon of master george wishart: his arrest.] master george should have begun to have treated of the second table of the law; but thereof in that sermon he spake very little, and began in this manner: "o lord, how long shall it be that thy holy word shall be despised, and men shall not regard their own salvation. i have heard of thee, haddington, that in thee two or three thousand people would have been at a vain clerk play;[ ] and now, to hear the messenger of the eternal god, of all thy town or parish there cannot be numbered a hundred persons. sore and fearful shall the plague be that shall ensue this thy contempt: with fire and sword thou shalt be plagued; yea, thou haddington, in special, strangers shall possess thee, and you, the present inhabitants, shall either in bondage serve your enemies, or else ye shall be chased from your own habitations; and that because ye have not known, and will not know, the time of god's merciful visitation." that servant of god continued for nearly an hour and a half in such vehemency and threatening, and during this he foretold all the plagues that ensued, as plainly as afterwards our eyes saw them performed. in the end he said, "i have forgotten myself and the matter that i should have entreated; but let these my last words as concerning public preaching remain in your minds, until god send you new comfort." thereafter he made a short paraphrase upon the second table, with an exhortation to patience, to the fear of god, and unto his works of mercy; and so ended, as it were making his last testament that the spirit of truth and of true judgment was both in his heart and mouth. before midnight he was apprehended in the house of ormiston, by the earl bothwell, who for money was become butcher to the cardinal.... [ ] dramatic entertainment founded on a passage of scripture: a "mystery." [sidenote: master george is betrayed into the hands of the cardinal.] the servant of god, master george wishart, was carried first to edinburgh; thereafter brought back to the house of hailes, which was the principal place that then the earl of bothwell had in lothian. as gold and women have corrupted all worldly and fleshly men from the beginning, so did they him. for the cardinal gave gold, and that largely; and the queen, with whom the said earl was then in the glondours,[ ] promised favours in all his lawful suits to women, if he would deliver the said master george to be kept in the castle of edinburgh. he made some resistance at the first, by reason of his promise:[ ] but an effeminate man cannot long withstand the assaults of a gracious queen. and so the servant of god was transported to edinburgh castle, where he remained not many days. for that bloody wolf, the cardinal, ever thirsting for the blood of the servant of god, so travailed with the abused governor, that he was content that god's servant should be delivered to the power of that tyrant. [ ] a state of ill humour. [ ] promise made at the arrest of wishart, that he should not be delivered to the governor or the cardinal. thus, small inversion being made, pilate obeyed the petition of caiaphas and of his fellows, and adjudged christ to be crucified. the servant of god being delivered into the hand of that proud and merciless tyrant, triumph was made by the priests. the godly lamented, and accused the foolishness of the governor; for, by retaining the said master george, he might have caused protestants and papists to have served: the one to the end that the life of their preacher might have been saved; the other, for fear that he should have set him at liberty again, to the confusion of the bishops. but, where god is forsaken, what can counsel or judgment avail? [sidenote: the bishops and clergy are convoked to the trial of wishart.] how the servant of god was treated, and what he did from the day that he entered within the sea-tower of st. andrews, which was in the end of january, in the year of god , until the first of march in the same year, when he suffered, we cannot certainly tell. we understand that he wrote something when in prison; but that was suppressed by the enemies. the cardinal delayed no time, but caused all bishops, yea all the clergy that had any pre-eminence, to be convocated to st. andrews against the penult[ ] of february, for consultation. the question was no less resolved in his own mind than was christ's death in the mind of caiaphas; but, that the rest should bear the burden with him, he desired that, before the world, they should subscribe to whatsoever he did. [ ] second last day. in that day was wrought no less a wonder than that at the accusation and death of jesus christ, when pilate and herod, who before were enemies, were made friends, by both of them consenting to christ's condemnation. there was no difference between the two cases, except that pilate and herod were brethren under their father the devil in the estate called temporal, and these two of whom we are to speak were brethren, sons of the same father the devil, in the estate ecclesiastical. if we interlace merriness with earnest matters, pardon us, good reader. the fact is so notable that it deserveth long memory. [sidenote: a merry tale of the cardinal and archbishop dunbar.] the cardinal was known to be proud; and dunbar, archbishop of glasgow, was known for a glorious fool; and yet, because for some time he had been called the king's master,[ ] he was chancellor of scotland. the cardinal had come to glasgow this same year, in the end of harvest, upon what purpose we omit. but while they remained together, the one in the town, the other in the castle, question arose as to precedence in the bearing of their croziers. the cardinal alleged that, by reason of his cardinalship and of his office of _legatus natus_ and primate within scotland in the kingdom of antichrist, he should have the pre-eminence, and that his crozier should not only go before, but should alone be borne, wheresoever he was. good gukstoun glaikstour,[ ] the foresaid archbishop, lacked no reasons, as he thought, for maintenance of his glory. he was an archbishop, and, within his own diocese and in his own cathedral seat and church, ought to give place to no man. the power of the cardinal was but begged from rome, and appertained but to his own person, and not to his bishopric; for it might be that his successor should not be cardinal. but his dignity was annexed to his office, and did appertain to all that ever should be archbishops of glasgow. [ ] he had been tutor to james v. [ ] _see_ glossary. howsoever these doubts were resolved by the doctors of divinity of both the prelates, the decision was as we shall hear. coming forth, or going in, at the choir door of glasgow kirk there began a strife for position betwixt the two cross-bearers. from glooming they came to shouldering; from shouldering they went on to buffets, and from dry blows, by neifs and neifeling;[ ] and then for charity's sake they cried, "_dispersit, dedit pauperibus_," and assayed which of the croziers was finest metal, which staff was strongest, and which bearer could best defend his master's pre-eminence; and, that there should be no superiority in that behalf, to the ground went both the croziers. [ ] fists and fisticuffs. and then began no little fray, but yet a merry game, for rochets were rent, tippets were torn, crowns were knapped,[ ] and side gowns might have been seen wantonly wag from the one wall to the other. many of them lacked beards, and that was the more pity, for they could not buckle each other by the birse,[ ] as bold men would have done. but fie on the jackmen that did not their duty; for had the one part of them rencountered the other then had all gone right. the sanctuary, we suppose, saved the lives of many. however merrily this be written, it was bitter bourding[ ] to the cardinal and his court. it was more than irregularity. yea, it might well have been judged lese-majesty to the son of perdition, the pope's own person; and yet the other in his folly, as proud as a peacock, would let the cardinal know that he was a bishop when the other was but beaton, before he got arbroath! [ ] struck; "cracked." [ ] bristle, _i.e._ beard. [ ] jesting. [sidenote: pilate and herod patch the quarrel.] this enmity was judged mortal, and without all hope of reconciliation. but the blood of the innocent servant of god buried in oblivion all that bragging and boasting; for the archbishop of glasgow was the first unto whom the cardinal wrote, signifying unto him what was done, and earnestly craving of him that he would assist with his presence and counsel, that such an enemy unto their estate might be suppressed. thereto the other was not slow, but kept time appointed, sat next to the cardinal, voted and subscribed first in the rank, and lay over the east block-house with the said cardinal, until the martyr of god was consumed by fire. for we must note that as all these beasts consented in heart to the slaughter of that innocent, so did they approve it with their presence, having the whole ordnance of the castle of st. andrews bent towards the place of execution, ready to have shot if any would have made defence or rescue to god's servant. upon the last day of february,[ ] by the commandment of the cardinal and his wicked council, the dean of the town was sent to the prison where lay the servant of god, the said master george wishart. him he summoned to appear before the judge upon the following morning, then and there to give account of his seditious and heretical doctrine. the said master george answered: "what needeth my lord cardinal to summon me to answer for my doctrine openly before him under whose power and dominion i am thus straitly bound in irons? may not my lord compel me to answer to his extortionate power; or believeth he that i am not prepared to render account of my doctrine? to manifest what kind of men ye are, it is well that ye keep your old ceremonies and constitutions made by men." [ ] knox acknowledges that he has here incorporated john foxe's account of the trial of wishart. [sidenote: master george wishart before the cardinal's tribunal.] upon the next morn, my lord cardinal caused his servants to dress themselves in their most warlike array, with jack, knapscall,[ ] splent,[ ] spear, and axe, more seemly for war than for the preaching of the true word of god. and when these armed champions, marching in warlike order, had conveyed the archbishops into the abbey church, incontinently they sent for master george, who was conveyed unto the said church by the captain of the castle and a hundred men dressed in manner foresaid. like a lamb led they him to sacrifice. as he entered the abbey church door, a poor man, vexed with great infirmities, asked his alms. to him he flung his purse. when he had come before the cardinal, the sub-prior of the abbey, dean john winram, stood up in the pulpit and made a sermon to all the congregation there assembled, taking his matter out of the thirteenth chapter of matthew. [ ] head-piece. [ ] armour for the legs. [sidenote: the sub-prior preaches on heresy.] his sermon was divided into four principal parts. the first was a short and brief declaration concerning the evangelist. the second was of the interpretation of the good seed; and because he called the word of god the good seed, and heresy the evil seed, he declared what heresy was and how it should be known. he defined in this manner: "heresy is a false opinion, defended with pertinacity, clearly repugning to the word of god." the third part of his sermon was concerning the cause of heresy within that realm and all other realms. "the cause of heresy," quoth he, "is the ignorance of those who have the cure of men's souls. to them it necessarily belongeth to have the true understanding of the word of god, that they may be able to win again the false doctors of heresies, with the sword of the spirit which is the word of god; and not only to win again, but also to overcome, as saith paul, 'a bishop must be faultless, as becometh the minister of god, not stubborn, nor angry; no drunkard, no fighter, not given to filthy lucre; but harberous,[ ] one that loveth goodness, sober minded, righteous, holy, temperate, and such as cleaveth unto the true word of the doctrine, that he may be able to exhort with wholesome learning, and to improve that which they say against him.'" [ ] hospitable. the fourth part of his sermon was as to how heresies should be known. "heresies be known on this manner. as the goldsmith knoweth the fine gold from the imperfect, by use of the touchstone, so likewise may we know heresy by the undoubted touchstone, that is, the true, sincere, and undefiled word of god." at the last, he added that "heretics should be put down in this present life. the gospel appeared to repugn this proposition--'let them both grow unto the harvest.' the harvest is the end of the world: nevertheless, he affirmed, they should be put down by the civil magistrate and law." [sidenote: a fed sow accuses and curses master george.] when the sub-prior ended his sermon, incontinently they caused master george to ascend into the pulpit, there to hear his accusation and articles. right against him stood up one of the fed flock, a monster, john lauder, laden full of cursing written on paper. of these he took out a roll both long and full of cursings, threatenings, maledictions, and words of devilish spite and malice, saying to the innocent master george so many cruel and abominable words, and hitting him so spitefully with the pope's thunder, that the ignorant people dreaded lest the earth then would have swallowed him up quick. notwithstanding, he stood still with great patience hearing these sayings, not once moving or changing his countenance. when this fed sow had read throughout all his lying menaces, his face running down with sweat and he frothing at the mouth like a bear, he spat at mr. george's face, saying "what answerest thou, thou runagate, traitor, and thief, to these sayings, which we have duly proved by sufficient witness against thee?" master george, hearing this, sat down upon his knees in the pulpit, making his prayer to god. when he had ended his prayer, sweetly and christianly he answered to them all in this manner. [sidenote: his oration in reply to his accusers.] "many and horrible sayings, many words abominable to hear, ye have spoken here unto me a christian man this day, words which, not only to teach but also to think, i thought it ever great abomination. wherefore, i pray you quietly to hear me, that ye may know what were my sayings, and the manner of my doctrine. this my petition, my lords, i desire to be heard for three causes. the first is that through preaching of the word of god, his glory is made manifest. it is reasonable, therefore, for the advancement of the glory of god, that ye hear me preaching truly the pure and sincere word of god, without any dissimulation. the second reason is that your health springeth of the word of god, for he worketh all things by his word. it were therefore an unrighteous thing, if ye should stop your ears when i am teaching truly the word of god. the third reason is that your doctrine speaketh forth many pestilentious, blasphemous, and abominable words, coming by the inspiration not of god, but of the devil, on no less peril than my life. it is just, therefore, and reasonable, that you should know what my words and doctrine are, and what i have ever taught in my time in this realm, so that i perish not unjustly, to the great peril of your souls. wherefore, both for the glory and honour of god, your own health, and the safeguard of my life, i beseech your discretions to hear me, and in the meantime i shall recite my doctrine without any choler. "first, and chiefly, since the time i came into this realm, i have taught nothing but the ten commandments of god, the twelve articles of the faith, and the prayer of the lord, in the mother tongue. moreover, in dundee, i taught the epistle of st. paul to the romans; and i shall show faithfully what fashion and manner i used when i taught, without any human dread, so that your discretions give me your ears benevolent and attent." suddenly then, with a high voice, cried the accuser, the fed sow, "thou heretic, runagate, traitor, and thief, it was not lawful for thee to preach. thou hast taken the power at thine own hand, without any authority of the church. we forethink[ ] that thou hast been a preacher so long." then said the whole congregation of the prelates, with their accomplices, "if we give him licence to preach, he is so crafty and in holy scripture so exercised that he will persuade the people to his opinion, and raise them against us." [ ] repent. master george, seeing their malicious and wicked intent, appealed from the lord cardinal to the lord governor, as to an indifferent and equal judge. the accuser, john lauder, with hoggish voice answered, "is not my lord cardinal the second person within this realm, chancellor of scotland, archbishop of st. andrews, bishop of mirepoix, commendator of arbroath, _legatus natus_, _legatus a latere_?" and so reciting as many titles of his unworthy honours as would have laden a ship, much sooner an ass,--"is not he," quoth john lauder, "an equal judge apparently to thee? whom else desirest thou to be thy judge?" this humble man answered, "i refuse not my lord cardinal, but i desire the word of god to be my judge, and the temporal estate, with some of your lordships, my auditors; because i am here my lord governor's prisoner." whereupon the prideful and scornful people that stood by, mocked him, saying, "such man, such judge!" speaking seditious and reproachful words against the governor and other the nobles, meaning them also to be heretics. incontinent, without delay, they would have given sentence upon master george, and that without further process, had not certain men there counselled my lord cardinal to read again the articles, and to hear his answers thereupon, that the people might not complain of his wrongful condemnation. shortly declared, the following were the articles, with his answers, as far as they would give him leave to speak; for when he intended to mitigate their lesings[ ] and show the manner of his doctrines, by and by they stopped his mouth with another article. [ ] lying. . thou, false heretic, runagate, traitor, and thief, deceiver of the people, despisest the holy church, and in like case contemnest my lord governor's authority. and we know for surety that, when thou preachedst in dundee, and wast charged by my lord governor's authority to desist, thou wouldest not obey, but persevered in the same. and therefore the bishop of brechin cursed thee, and delivered thee into the devil's hand, and gave thee commandment that thou shouldest preach no more. yet, notwithstanding, thou didst continue obstinately.--my lords, i have read in the acts of the apostles, that it is not lawful, for the threats and menacings of men, to desist from the preaching of the evangel. it is written, "we shall rather obey god than men." i have also read in the prophet malachi, "i shall curse your blessings, and bless your cursings, says the lord:" believing firmly that he would turn your cursings into blessings. . thou, false heretic, didst say that a priest standing at the altar saying mass was like a fox wagging his tail in july.--my lords, i said not so. these were my sayings. the moving of the body outward, without the inward moving of the heart, is nought else but the playing of an ape, and not the true serving of god; for god is a secret searcher of men's hearts. therefore, who will truly adorn and honour god, he must in spirit and verity honour him. then the accuser stopped his mouth with another article. . thou, false heretic, preachest against the sacraments, saying that there are not seven sacraments.--my lords, if it be your pleasure, i taught never of the number of the sacraments, whether they were seven or eleven. so many as are instituted by christ, and are shown to us by the evangel, i profess openly. except it be the word of god, i dare affirm nothing. . thou, false heretic, hast openly taught that auricular confession is not a blessed sacrament; and thou sayest that we should only confess to god, and to no priest.--my lords, i say that auricular confession, seeing that it hath no promise of the evangel, cannot be a sacrament. of the confession to be made to god, there are many testimonies in scripture; as when david saith, "i thought i would acknowledge my iniquity against myself unto the lord; and he forgave the trespasses of my sins." here, confession signifieth the secret knowledge of our sins before god. when i exhorted the people on this manner, i reproved no manner of confession. and further, st. james saith, "acknowledge your sins one to another, and so let you to have peace amongst yourselves." here the apostle meaneth nothing of auricular confession, but that we should acknowledge and confess ourselves to be sinners before our brethren and before the world, and not esteem ourselves as the grey friars do, thinking themselves already purged. when he had said these words, the horned bishops and their accomplices cried, and girned[ ] with their teeth, saying, "see ye not what colours he hath in his speech, that he may beguile us, and seduce us to his opinion." [ ] gnashed. . thou, heretic, didst say openly, that it was necessary to every man to know and understand his baptism, and that it was contrary to general councils, and the estates of holy church.--my lords, i believe there be none so unwise here that will make merchandise with a frenchman, or any other unknown stranger, except he know and understand first the condition or promise made by the frenchman or stranger. so, likewise, i would that we understood what things we promise in the name of the infant unto god in baptism. for this cause, i believe ye have confirmation. then said master bleiter, chaplain, that he had the devil within him, and the spirit of error. a child answered him, "the devil cannot speak such words as yonder man doth speak." . thou, false heretic, traitor, and thief, saidst that the sacrament of the altar was but a piece of bread, baken upon the ashes, and nothing else; and all that is there done is but a superstitious rite against the commandment of god....--o lord god! so manifest lies and blasphemies the scripture doth not teach you. as concerning the sacrament of the altar, my lords, i never taught anything against the scripture, which i shall, by god's grace, make manifest this day, i being ready therefor to suffer death. the lawful use of the sacrament is most acceptable unto god: the great abuse of it is very detestable unto him. but what occasion they have to say such words of me, i shall shortly show your lordships. i once chanced to meet with a jew, when i was sailing upon the water of rhine. i did inquire of him what was the cause of his pertinacity in not believing that the true messias was come, considering that they had seen fulfilled all the prophecies which were spoken of him; moreover, the prophecies taken away, and the sceptre of judah. by many other testimonies of the scripture, i vanquished him, and proved that messias was come, whom they called jesus of nazareth. this jew answered me, "when messias cometh, he shall restore all things, and he shall not abrogate the law, which was given to our fathers, as ye do. for why? we see the poor almost perish through hunger among you, yet you are not moved with pity towards them; but among us jews, though we be poor, there are no beggars found. secondly, it is forbidden by the law to feign any kind of imagery of things in heaven above or in the earth beneath or in the sea under the earth, but one god only to honour: your sanctuaries and churches are full of idols. thirdly, ye adore and worship a piece of bread baken upon the ashes, and say that it is your god." i have rehearsed here but the sayings of the jew, which i never affirmed to be true. then the bishops shook their heads, and spat on the ground. what he meant to say further in this matter, they would not hear. . thou, false heretic, didst say that extreme unction was not a sacrament.--my lords, forsooth, i never taught anything of extreme unction in my doctrine, whether it was a sacrament or no. . thou, false heretic, saidst that the holy water is not so good as wash, and such like. thou contemnest conjuring, and sayest that holy church's cursing availeth not.--my lords, as for holy water, of what strength it is, i never taught in my doctrine. conjurings and exorcisms, if they were conformable to the word of god, i would commend. but in so far as they are not conformable to the commandment and word of god, i reprove them. . thou, false heretic and runagate, hast said that every layman is a priest; and thou sayest that the pope hath no more power than any other man.--my lords, i taught nothing but the word of god. i remember that i have read in some places in st. john and st. peter, of whom one sayeth, "he hath made us kings and priests;" the other sayeth, "he hath made us the kingly priesthood." wherefore, i have affirmed that any man, being cunning and perfect in the word of god and the true faith of jesus christ, has his power given him from god, and that not by the power or violence of men, but by the virtue of the word of god--the word which is called the power of god, as st. paul witnesseth evidently enough. and again i say that any unlearned man, not exercised in the word of god, nor yet constant in his faith, of whatsoever estate or order he be, hath no power to bind or loose, seeing he lacketh the instrument by the which he bindeth or looseth, that is to say, the word of god. after he had said these words all the bishops laughed, and mocked him. when he beheld their laughing, "laugh ye," saith he, "my lords? though these my sayings appear scornful and worthy of derision to your lordships, they are nevertheless very weighty to me, and of a great value; because they stand not only upon my life, but also the honour and glory of god." in the meantime many godly men, beholding the wodness[ ] and great cruelty of the bishops, and the invincible patience of the said master george, did greatly mourn and lament. [ ] fury. . thou, false heretic, saidst that a man hath no free will, but is like to the stoics, who say that it is not in man's will to do anything, but that concupiscence and desire cometh of god, of whatsoever kind it be.--my lords, i said not so, truly: i say that unto as many as believe in christ firmly is given liberty, conformable to the saying of st. john, "if the son make you free, then shall ye verily be free." of the contrary, as many as believe not in christ jesus, they are bound servants of sin: "he that sinneth is bound to sin." . thou, false heretic, sayest it is as lawful to eat flesh upon friday, as on sunday.--may it please your lordships, i have read in the epistles of st. paul that "to the clean, all things are clean." of the contrary, "to filthy men, all things are unclean." a faithful man, clean and holy, sanctifieth by the word the creature of god; but the creature maketh no man acceptable unto god: so that a creature may not sanctify any impure and unfaithful man. but to the faithful man, all things are sanctified by the prayer of the word of god. after these sayings of master george, all the bishops, with their accomplices, said, "what witness need we against him: hath he not openly here spoken blasphemy?" . thou, false heretic, dost say that we should not pray to saints, but to god only. say whether thou hast said this or no: say shortly.--for the weakness and the infirmity of the hearers, without doubt, plainly, saints should not be honoured or called upon. my lords, there are two things worthy of note: the one is certain and the other uncertain. it is found plainly and certain in scriptures that we should worship and honour one god, according to the saying of the first commandment, "thou shall only worship and honour thy lord god with all thy heart." but as to praying to and honouring of saints, there is great doubt among many, whether or no they hear invocation made unto them. therefore, i exhorted all men equally in my doctrine that they should leave the unsure way, and follow the way which was taught us by our master christ: he only is our mediator, and maketh intercession for us to god, his father: he is the door, by which we must enter in: he that entereth not in by this door, but climbeth another way, is a thief and a murderer: he is the truth and life. there is no doubt but he that goeth out of this way shall fall into the mire; yea, verily, he is fallen into it already. this is the fashion of my doctrine, which i have ever followed. verily, that which i have heard and read in the word of god i taught openly and in no corners, and now ye shall witness the same, if your lordships will hear me. i dare not be so bold as affirm anything unless it agree with the word of god. these sayings he rehearsed divers times. . thou, false heretic, hast preached plainly that there is no purgatory, and that it is a feigned thing that any man, after this life, will be punished in purgatory.--my lords, as i have oftentimes said heretofore, without express witness and testimony of scripture, i dare affirm nothing. i have oft and divers times read over the bible, and yet such a term found i never, nor yet any place of scripture applicable thereto. therefore, i was ashamed ever to teach of that which i could not find in scripture. then said he to master john lauder, his accuser, "if you have any testimony of the scripture, by the which ye may prove any such place, show it now before this audience." but that dolt had not a word to say for himself, but was as dumb as a beetle in that matter. . thou, false heretic, hast taught plainly against the vows of monks, friars, nuns, and priests, saying that whosoever was bound by such vows did vow themselves to the state of damnation. moreover, thou hast taught that it was lawful for priests to marry wives, and not to live sole.--of sooth, my lords, i have read in the evangel that there are three kinds of chaste men: some are gelded from their mother's womb; some are gelded by men; and some have gelded themselves for the kingdom of heaven's sake: verily, i say, these men are blessed by the scripture of god. but as many as have not the gift of chastity, nor yet for the evangel have overcome the concupiscence of the flesh, and have vowed chastity, ye have experience, although i should hold my tongue, to what inconvenience they have vowed themselves. when he had said these words, they were all dumb, thinking it better to have ten concubines, than one married wife. . thou, false heretic and runagate, sayest that thou wilt not obey our general or provincial councils.--my lords, i know not what your general councils are. i never studied that matter; but gave my labours to the pure word of god. read here your general councils, or else give me a book wherein they are contained, that i may read of them. if they agree with the word of god, i will not disagree. then the ravening wolves became mad, and said, "whereunto do we let him speak any further? read forth the rest of the articles, and stay not upon them." amongst these cruel tigers there was one false hypocrite, a seducer of the people, called john scott, who, standing behind john lauder's back, hasted him to read the rest of the articles, and not to tarry for master george's witty and godly answers; "for we may not abide them," quoth he, "no more than the devil may abide the sign of the cross when it is named." . thou, heretic, sayest, that it is vain to build to the honour of god costly churches, seeing that god remaineth not in churches made by men's hands, nor yet can god be in so little space, as betwixt the priest's hands.--my lords, solomon saith, "if the heaven of heavens cannot comprehend thee, how much less this house that i have builded." and job consenteth to the same sentence, saying, "seeing that he is higher than the heavens, what canst thou build unto him? he is deeper than the hell, then how shalt thou know him? he is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." god cannot be comprehended into one space, because he is infinite. these sayings notwithstanding, i never said that churches should be destroyed; but, on the contrary, i ever affirmed that churches should be sustained and upholden, and that the people should be congregated in them to hear the word of god preached. moreover, wheresoever there is the true preaching of the word of god and the lawful use of the sacraments, undoubtedly god is there himself. thus, both these sayings are true together. god cannot be comprehended into any one place: and, "wheresoever there are two or three gathered in his name, there is he present in the midst of them." then said he to his accuser, "if thou thinkest any otherwise, then i say, show further thy reasons before this audience." he, without all reason, was dumb, and could not answer a word. . thou, false heretic, contemnest fasting, and sayest thou shouldest not fast.--my lords, i find that fasting is commanded in the scripture; therefore i were a slanderer of the gospel if i contemned fasting. not only so, i have learned by experience that fasting is good for the health and conservation of the body. but god knoweth only who fasteth the true fast. . thou, false heretic, hast preached openly, saying, that the souls of men shall sleep to the latter day of judgment, and shall not obtain life immortal until that day.--god, full of mercy and goodness, forgive him that sayeth such things of me. i wot and know surely, by the word of god, that the soul of him that hath begun to have the faith of jesus christ and believeth firmly in him, shall never sleep, but ever shall live an immortal life. that life is renewed in grace from day to day and augmented; nor shall it ever perish or have an end, but shall ever live immortal with christ its head. to this life, all that believe in him shall come, and then shall remain in eternal glory. amen. when the bishops, with their accomplices, had accused this innocent man, in manner and form aforesaid, they incontinently condemned him to be burned as a heretic, not having respect to his godly answers and the true reasons which he alleged, nor yet to their own consciences. they thought, verily, that they should do to god good sacrifice, conformably to the sayings of jesus christ in the gospel of st. john, chapter sixteen: "they shall excommunicate you; yea, and the time shall come that he which killeth you shall think that he hath done to god good service." the following is the prayer of master george. "o immortal god! how long shalt thou suffer the wodness and great credulity of the ungodly to exercise their fury upon thy servants, who do further thy word in this world. they desire to do the contrary, to choke and destroy the true doctrine and truth, whereby thou hast showed thee unto the world, which was all drowned in blindness and misknowledge of thy name. o lord, we know surely that thy true servants must needs suffer, for thy name's sake, persecution, affliction, and troubles in this present life, which is but a shadow, as thou hast showed to us by thy prophets and apostles. but yet we desire thee, merciful father, that thou wouldest preserve, defend, and help thy congregation, which thou hast chosen before the beginning of the world, and give them thy grace to hear thy word, and to be true servants in this present life." then, by and by, the common people were removed (for their desire was always to hear that innocent speak) and the sons of darkness pronounced their sentence definitive, not having respect to the judgment of god. when all this was done and said, my lord cardinal caused his tormentors to pass again with the meek lamb unto the castle, until such time as the fire was made ready. when he was come into the castle, there came two grey fiends, friar scott and his mate, saying, "sir, ye must make your confession unto us." he answered and said, "i will make no confession unto you. go fetch me yonder man that preached this day, and i will make my confession unto him." then they sent for the sub-prior of the abbey, who came to him with all diligence; but what he said in this confession i cannot show. when the fire and the gallows were made ready at the west part of the castle, near to the priory, my lord cardinal, dreading that master george should have been taken away by his friends, commanded his men to bend all the ordnance of the castle against the place of execution, and commanded all his gunners to be ready, and stand beside their guns, until such time as he was burned. all this being done, they bound master george's hands behind his back, and led him forth from the castle with their soldiers, to the place of their cruel and wicked execution. as he came forth from the castle gate, there met him certain beggars asking his alms, for god's sake. to these he answered, "i want my hands, wherewith i was wont to give you alms. but may the merciful lord, who feedeth all men, vouchsafe of his benignity and abundant grace to give you necessaries, both for your bodies and souls." then met him two false fiends--i should say, friars--saying, "master george, pray to our lady that she may be a mediatrix for you to her son." to them he answered meekly, "cease: tempt me not, my brethren." after this he was led to the fire, with a rope about his neck, and a chain of iron about his middle. [sidenote: master george wishart is brought to the stake.] when he came to the fire he sat down upon his knees, and rose again; and thrice he said these words, "o thou saviour of the world, have mercy upon me: father of heaven, i commend my spirit into thy holy hands." when he had made this prayer, he turned him to the people, and said these words: "i beseech you, christian brethren and sisters, that ye be not offended at the word of god because of the affliction and torments which ye see already prepared for me. i exhort you that ye love the word of god, your salvation, and suffer patiently and with a comfortable heart, for the word's sake, which is your undoubted salvation and everlasting comfort. moreover, i pray you, urge upon those of my brethren and sisters who have heard me oft before that they cease not nor leave off to learn that word of god which i taught them, according to the grace given unto me--not for my persecution or troubles in this world, which lasteth not. and show unto them that my doctrine was no wives' fables, after the constitution made by men; if i had taught men's doctrine, i should have gotten greater thanks from men. but, for the word's sake, and for the true evangel, given to me by the grace of god, i suffer this day by men, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart and mind. for this cause i was sent, that i should suffer this fire for christ's sake. consider and behold my visage; ye shall not see me change my colour. this grim fire i fear not; and so i pray you to do, if any persecution come unto you for the word's sake. do not fear them that slay the body, and afterwards have no power to slay the soul. some have said of me that i taught that the soul of man should sleep until the last day; but i know surely that this night, before six o'clock, my soul shall sup with my saviour, for whom i suffer this." then master george prayed for them that accused him, saying, "i beseech thee, father of heaven, to forgive them that have of any ignorance, or else of any evil mind, forged lies upon me; i forgive them with all mine heart: i beseech christ to forgive them that have condemned me to death this day, ignorantly." and last of all, he said to the people on this manner, "i beseech you, brethren and sisters, to exhort your prelates to the learning of the word of god, that they at least may be ashamed to do evil and learn to do good; and if they will not convert themselves from their wicked error, there shall hastily come upon them the wrath of god, and that they shall not eschew." many faithful words said he in the meantime, taking no heed or care of the cruel torments which were then prepared for him. then, last of all, the hangman that was his tormentor, sat down upon his knees, and said, "sir, i pray you, forgive me, for i am not guilty of your death." to whom he answered, "come hither to me." when he was come to him, he kissed his cheek, and said, "lo! here is a token that i forgive thee. my heart, do thine office." and then by and by he was put upon the gibbet, and hanged, and there burned to powder. when the people beheld the great tormenting of that innocent, they could not refrain from piteous mourning and complaining of the innocent lamb's slaughter. [sidenote: vengeance on the cardinal is vowed.] after the death of this blessed martyr of god, the people began, in plain speaking, to damn and detest the cruelty that was used. yea, men of great birth, estimation, and honour, avowed at open tables that the blood of the said master george should be revenged, or else it should cost life for life. amongst these john leslie, brother to the earl of rothes, was the chief; for he spared not to say in all companies, "this same whinger," drawing his dagger, "and this same hand, shall be priests to the cardinal." these bruits came to the cardinal's ears; but he thought himself stout enough for all scotland; for in babylon, that is, in his new block-house, he was secure, as he thought; and upon the field he was able to match all his enemies. to write the truth, the most part of the nobility of scotland had either given unto him their bonds of manrent, or else were in confederacy, and promised amity with him.... after easter, the cardinal came to edinburgh to hold the seinye,[ ] as the papists term their unhappy assembly of baal's shaven sort. it was bruited that something was purposed against him at that time by the earl of angus and his friends, whom he mortally hated, and whose destruction he sought. but it failed, and so returned he to his strength; yea, to his god and only comfort, as well in heaven as in earth. and there he remained without the least fear of death, promising unto himself no less pleasure than did the rich man of whom mention is made by our master in the evangel. he did not only rejoice and say, "eat and be glad, my soul, for thou hast great riches laid up in store for many days;" but also, "tush, a fig for the feud, and a button for the bragging of all the heretics and their assistants in scotland. is not my lord governor mine? witness his eldest son there in pledge at my table? have i not the queen at my own devotion? (he alluded to the mother of mary that now mischievously reigns.) is not france my friend, and am not i friend to france? what danger should i fear?" thus, in vanity, the carnal cardinal delighted himself a little before his death.... [ ] synod; consistory. early upon saturday morning, the twenty-ninth of may , there were sundry companies in the abbey kirk-yard, in st. andrews, not far distant from the castle. the gates of the castle being opened, and the draw-bridge let down for admission of lime and stones and other things necessary for building, for babylon was almost finished, william kirkaldy of grange, younger, and with him six persons, got entrance, and held purpose with the porter, inquiring "if my lord was walking?" he answered, "no." while the said william and the porter talked, and his servants pretended to look at the work and the workmen, norman leslie approached with his company; and, because they were in no great number, they easily got entrance. they directed their course to the very middle of the close, and immediately thereafter came john leslie, somewhat rudely, and four persons with him. the porter, taking fright, would have drawn the bridge; but the said john, being entered thereon, stayed and leapt in. when the porter made for his defence, his head was broken, the keys were taken from him, and he cast into the fosse; and so the place was seized. shouts arose; the workmen, to the number of more than a hundred, ran off the walls, and were without hurt put forth at the wicket gate. the first thing, william kirkaldy took the guard of the privy postern, fearing that the fox should escape. then went the rest to the gentlemen's chambers, and without violence done to any man, put more than fifty persons to the gate. the number that enterprised and did this was but sixteen persons. the cardinal, awakened with the shouts, asked from his window what that noise meant. it was answered that norman leslie had taken his castle. this understood, he ran for his postern; but, perceiving the passage to be guarded, he returned quickly to his chamber, took his two-handed sword, and gart[ ] his chamber-child move chests and other impediments to the door. [ ] caused. in the meantime came john leslie and bade the door be opened. the cardinal asking, "who calls?" he answered, "my name is leslie." he again asked, "is that norman?" the other said, "nay; my name is john." "i will have norman," said the cardinal; "for he is my friend." "content yourself with such as are here; ye shall get none other." with the said john were james melvin, a man familiarly acquainted with master george wishart, and peter carmichael, a stout[ ] gentleman. while they forced at the door, the cardinal hid a box of gold under coals that were laid in a secret corner. at length he asked, "will ye save my life?" the said john answered, "it may be that we will." "nay," said the cardinal, "swear unto me by god's wounds, and i will open unto you." then answered the said john, "it that was said, is unsaid;" and cried, "fire, fire," for the door was very stark.[ ] then was brought a chimley[ ] full of burning coals. this perceived, the cardinal or his chamber-child opened the door, and the cardinal sat down in a chair and cried, "i am a priest, i am a priest; ye will not slay me." [ ] staunch. [ ] strong. [ ] fire-basket. [sidenote: assassination of cardinal beaton: th may .] john leslie, according to his former vows, struck the cardinal once or twice, and so did the said peter. but james melvin, a man of nature most gentle and most modest, perceiving that they were both in choler, withdrew them, and said, "this work and judgment of god, although it be secret, ought to be done with greater gravity." presenting the point of his sword at the cardinal, he said, "repent thee of thy former wicked life, but especially of the shedding of the blood of that notable instrument of god, master george wishart, which, albeit the flame of fire consumed it before men, yet cries a vengeance upon thee. we are sent from god to revenge it: for here, before my god, i protest that neither the hatred of thy person, nor the love of thy riches, nor the fear of any trouble thou couldst have brought on me in particular, doth move me to strike thee, i do so only because thou hast been and remainest an obstinate enemy against christ jesus and his holy evangel." and so he struck him twice or thrice through with a stog sword;[ ] and so the cardinal fell, never word heard out of his mouth, but "i am a priest, i am a priest: fie, fie: all is gone." [ ] long small sword. the death of this tyrant was dolorous to the priests, dolorous to the governor, most dolorous to the queen dowager; for in him perished faithfulness to france, and comfort to all gentlewomen, especially to wanton widows: his death must be revenged.... the archbishop, to declare the zeal that he had to revenge the death of him that was his predecessor (and yet he would not have had him living again) still blew the coals. and first, he caused to be summoned, then denounced, accursed, and last, proclaimed rebels, not only the first enterprisers, but all such as did accompany them. and last of all, the siege of the castle was decided upon. [sidenote: the reforming party is besieged in the castle of st. andrews.] the siege began in the end of august; for on the twenty-third day thereof the soldiers departed from edinburgh, and it continued until near the end of january. at that time, they had no other hope of winning it but by hunger; and of that they were despaired, for those within had broken through the east wall, and made a plain passage by an iron gate to the sea. this greatly relieved the besieged, and abased the besiegers; for they could not stop them of victuals, unless they should be masters of the sea, and that they clearly understood they could not be. the english ships had been there once already, and had brought william kirkaldy from london, and had taken with them to the court of england, john leslie and master henry balnaves, for the perfecting of all contracts. king harry had promised to take them into his protection, upon condition that they should keep the governor's son, my lord of arran, and stand friends to the contract of marriage before mentioned. these things clearly understood by the governor and by his council, the priests, and the shaven sort, they concluded to make an appointment, to the end that they might either get the castle betrayed, or else some principal men of the company taken unawares. [sidenote: a treacherous truce.] the heads of the coloured appointment were:-- . that they should keep the castle of st. andrews, until the governor and the authority of scotland should get unto them a sufficient absolution from the pope, antichrist of rome, for the slaughter of the cardinal foresaid. . that they should deliver pledges for delivery of that house as soon as the absolution should be delivered unto them. . that they, their friends, familiars, servants, and others pertaining to them, should never, for the slaughter foresaid, be pursued at law or by the law, by the authority. also, that they should bruik[ ] spiritual or temporal commodities, possessed before the said slaughter, even as if it had never been committed. . that they of the castle should keep the earl of arran, so long as their pledges were kept. there were other such articles, and all were liberal enough; for the governor and his council never intended to keep a word of them, as the issue did declare. [ ] enjoy; possess. [sidenote: john rough resumes preaching.] the appointment was made, and all the godly were glad; for they had some hope that thereby god's word should somewhat bud, as indeed it did. for john rough, who had entered the castle soon after the cardinal's slaughter, and had continued with them during the siege, began to preach in st. andrews. albeit he was not the most learned, his doctrine was without corruption, and therefore well liked by the people. [sidenote: john knox comes to the castle of st. andrews.] at the easter following, john knox came to the castle of st. andrews. wearied of removing from place to place, by reason of the persecution that came upon him by this archbishop of st. andrews, he had determined to have left scotland, and to have visited the schools of germany. of england he had no pleasure then. there, albeit the pope's name had been suppressed, his laws and corruptions remained in full vigour. but the said john had the care of some gentlemen's children, whom for certain years he had nourished in godliness, and their fathers solicited him to go to st. andrews, that he himself might have the protection of the castle, and their children the benefit of his tuition. so came he thither at the time mentioned, and, having in his company frances douglas of longniddry, george his brother, and alexander cockburn, then eldest son to the laird of ormiston, he began to exercise them after his accustomed manner. besides their grammar and other human authors, he read to his pupils a catechism of which he caused them to give an account publicly, in the parish kirk of st. andrews. moreover, he read unto them the evangel of john, and that lecture he delivered in the chapel within the castle, at a certain hour. those of the place, but especially master henry balnaves and john rough, preacher, perceiving the manner of his doctrine, began earnestly to travail with him that he would take the preaching place upon him. but he utterly refused, alleging that he would not run where god had not called him; meaning that he would do nothing without a lawful vocation. [sidenote: john knox is called to the office of preacher.] whereupon, advising privily among themselves, and having with them sir david lyndsay of the mount, they decided to give a charge to the said john, and that publicly by the mouth of their preacher. and so, upon a certain day, a sermon was delivered concerning the election of ministers--what power the congregation (however small, passing the number of two or three) had over any man in whom they supposed and espied the gifts of god to be, and how dangerous it was to refuse, and not to hear the voice of such as desired to be instructed. then the said john rough, preacher, directed his words to the said john knox, saying, "brother, ye must not be offended if i speak unto you that which i have in charge from all those that are here present, namely this: in the name of god and of his son jesus christ, and in the name of these that presently call you by my mouth, i charge you that ye refuse not this holy vocation, but that--as ye seek the glory of god, the increase of christ's kingdom, the edification of your brethren, and the comfort of me, whom ye well enough understand to be oppressed by the multitude of labours--ye take upon you the public office and charge of preaching, even as ye look to avoid god's heavy displeasure, and desire that he shall multiply his graces with you." in the end, the preacher said to those that were present, "was not this your charge to me? and do ye not approve this vocation?" they answered, "it was; and we approve it." thereat the said john, abashed, burst forth in most abundant tears, and withdrew himself to his chamber. his countenance and behaviour, from that day until the day that he was compelled to present himself in the public place of preaching, did sufficiently declare the grief and trouble of his heart. no man saw in him any sign of mirth, nor yet had he pleasure to accompany any man, for many days together. [sidenote: john knox denounces the roman kirk: his challenge.] another necessity caused him to enter the public place, besides the vocation foresaid. dean john annan, a rotten papist, had long troubled john rough in his preaching: and the said john knox had fortified the doctrine of the preacher by his pen, and had beaten the said dean john from all defences, so that he was compelled to fly to his last refuge, that is, to the authority of the church, "which authority," said he, "damned all lutherans and heretics; and therefore he needed no further disputation." john knox answered, "before we hold ourselves convicted, or ye can sufficiently prove us so, we must define the church, by the right notes of the true church given to us in god's scriptures. we must discern the immaculate spouse of jesus christ from the mother of confusion, spiritual babylon, lest imprudently we embrace a harlot instead of the chaste spouse; yea, to speak it in plain words, lest we submit ourselves to satan, thinking that we submit ourselves to jesus christ. for, as for your roman kirk, as it is now corrupted, and the authority thereof, wherein stands the hope of your victory, i no more doubt that it is the synagogue of satan, and the head thereof, called the pope, that man of sin of whom the apostle speaks, than do i doubt that jesus christ suffered by the procurement of the visible kirk of jerusalem. yea, i offer myself to prove, by word or writing, that the roman church is this day further degenerate from the purity which was in the days of the apostles than was the church of the jews from the ordinance given by moses, when it consented to the innocent death of christ." these words were spoken in open audience, in the parish kirk of saint andrews, after the said dean john annan had spoken as it pleased him, and had refused to dispute. the people, hearing the offer, cried with one consent, "we cannot all read your writings, but we may all hear your preaching; therefore we require you, in the name of god, that ye let us hear the probation of that which ye have affirmed; for if it be true, we have been miserably deceived." and so, the next sunday was appointed to the said john to express his mind in the public preaching place. [sidenote: the first public sermon of john knox is made in the parish kirk of st. andrews.] the day approaching, the said john took the text written in daniel, the seventh chapter, beginning thus: "and another king shall rise after them, and he shall be unlike unto the first, and he shall subdue three kings, and shall speak words against the most high, and shall consume the saints of the most high, and think that he may change times and laws. and they shall be given into his hands until a time, and times, and dividing of times." . in the beginning of his sermon, he shewed the great love of god towards his church, whom it pleaseth him to forewarn of dangers to come, many years before they come to pass. . he briefly treated of the state of the israelites, who then were in bondage in babylon for the most part; and made a short discourse concerning the four empires, the babylonian, the persian, that of the greeks, and that of the romans; in the destruction whereof rose up that last beast, which he affirmed to be the roman church,--for all the notes that god hath shewn to the prophet do appertain to none other power than has ever yet been, except to it alone, and unto it they do so properly appertain, that such as are not more than blind may clearly see them. . but before he began to open the corruptions of the papistry, he defined the true kirk, shewed the true notes of it, whereupon it was builded, why it was the pillar of truth, and why it could not err, to wit, "because it heard the voice of its own pastor, jesus christ, would not hear a stranger, neither yet would be carried about with every kind of doctrine." every one of these heads sufficiently declared, he entered on the contrary proposition; and, upon the notes given in his text, he shewed that the spirit of god in the new testament gave to this king other names, to wit, "the man of sin," "the anti-christ," "the whore of babylon." he shewed that this man of sin, or anti-christ, was not to be restricted to the person of any one man only, no more than by the fourth beast was to be understood the person of any one emperor. but by such means the spirit of god sought to forewarn his chosen of a body and a multitude having a wicked head, who should not only be sinful himself, but should be occasion of sin to all that should be subject unto him,--as christ jesus, is cause of justice to all the members of his body. he is called the anti-christ, that is to say, one contrary to christ, because he is contrary to him in life, doctrine, laws, and subjects. then began he to decipher the lives of divers popes, and the lives of all the shavelings for the most part; their doctrine and laws he plainly proved to be directly repugnant to the doctrine and laws of god the father and of christ jesus, his son. this he proved by comparing the doctrine of justification expressed in the scriptures, which teach that man is "justified by faith only," and "that the blood of jesus christ purges us from all our sins;" and the doctrine of the papists, which attributeth justification to the works of the law, yea, to such works of man's invention as pilgrimage, pardons, and other such baggage. that the papistical laws were repugnant to the laws of the evangel, he proved by the laws made concerning observation of days, abstaining from meats, and from marriage which christ jesus made free, and the forbidding whereof saint paul called "the doctrine of devils." in handling the notes of that beast, given in the text, he willed men to consider if these notes, "there shall one arise unlike to the other, having a mouth speaking great things and blasphemous," could be applied to any other but the pope and his kingdom; for "if these," said he, "be not great words and blasphemous, 'the successor of peter,' 'the vicar of christ,' 'the head of the kirk,' 'most holy,' 'most blessed,' 'that cannot err;' that 'may make right of wrong, and wrong of right;' that 'of nothing, may make somewhat;' that 'hath all truth in the shrine of his breast;' yea, 'that has power over all, and none power over him;' nay, 'not to say that he does wrong, although he draw ten thousand million of souls with himself to hell:' if these," said he, "and many other, able to be shown in his own canon law, be not grave and blasphemous words, and such as never mortal man spake before, let the world judge. "and yet," said he, "there is one note most evident of all. john, in his revelation, says that 'the merchandise of that babylonian harlot, among other things, shall be the bodies and souls of men.' now, let the very papists themselves judge if ever any before them took upon them power to relax the pains of them that were in purgatory, as they affirm to the people that they do by the merits of their mass and of their other trifles, daily." in the end, he said, "if any here"--and there were present master john major, the university, the sub-prior, and many canons, with some friars of both the orders--"will say that i have alleged scripture, teaching, or history, otherwise than it is written, let them come unto me with sufficient witness, and by conference i shall let them see not only the original where my testimonies are written, but i shall prove that the writers meant what i have spoken." [sidenote: the people comment on knox's sermon against papistry.] of this sermon, which was the first that ever john knox made in public, there were divers bruits. some said, "others sned[ ] the branches of the papistry, but he strikes at the root, to destroy the whole." others said, "if the doctors and _magistri nostri_ do not now defend the pope and his authority, which in their own presence is so manifestly impugned, the devil may have my part of him, and of his laws also." others said, "master george wishart spoke never so plainly, and yet he was burned: even so will he be." in the end, others said, "the tyranny of the cardinal made not his cause the better, nor yet did the suffering of god's servant make his cause the worse, and therefore we would counsel you and them to provide better defences than fire and sword, for it may be that else ye will be disappointed. men now have other eyes than they had then." this answer gave the laird of nydie, a man fervent and upright in religion. [ ] clip. [sidenote: john knox is called on to defend his doctrine.] the bastard archbishop, who was not yet execrated (consecrated, they call it) wrote to the sub-prior at saint andrews, who, _sede vacante_, was vicar-general, that he wondered that he suffered such heretical and schismatical doctrine to be taught, and did not oppose himself to the same. upon this rebuke, there was appointed a convention of grey friars and black fiends with the said sub-prior, dean john winram, in saint leonard's yards. thereunto was first called john rough, and certain articles were read unto him; and thereafter was john knox called for. the cause of their convention, and why they were called, was set forth, and the following articles were read:--( ) no mortal man can be the head of the church. ( ) the pope is an anti-christ, and so is no member of christ's mystical body. ( ) man may neither make nor devise a religion that is acceptable to god: but man is bound to observe and keep the religion that from god is received, without chopping or changing thereof. ( ) the sacraments of the new testament ought to be administered as they were instituted by christ jesus, and practised by his apostles: nothing ought to be added unto them; nothing ought to be diminished from them. ( ) the mass is abominable idolatry, blasphemous to the death of christ, and a profanation of the lord's supper. ( ) there is no purgatory in which the souls of men are pained or purged after this life. heaven remains for the faithful, and hell for the reprobate and unthankful. ( ) praying for the dead is vain, and prayer to the dead is idolatry. ( ) there are no bishops unless they preach themselves, without any substitute. ( ) by god's law the teinds do not appertain of necessity to the kirk-men. "the strangeness," said the sub-prior, "of these articles, which are gathered from your teaching, have moved us to call for you to hear your own answer." john knox said, "i, for my part, praise my god that i see so honourable, and apparently so modest and quiet, an audience. but because it is long since i have heard that ye are one that is not ignorant of the truth, i must crave of you, in the name of god, yea, and i appeal to your conscience before that supreme judge that, if ye think any article there expressed to be contrary unto the truth of god, ye oppose yourself plainly unto it, and suffer not the people to be therewith deceived. but if in your conscience ye know the doctrine to be true, then i will crave your patronage thereto, that, by your authority, the people may be moved the rather to believe the truth, whereof many doubt by reason of our youth." _sub-prior._ i came not here as a judge, but only to talk familiarly, and therefore i will neither allow nor condemn; but, if you like, i will reason. why may not the kirk, for good causes, devise ceremonies to decorate the sacraments and other of god's services? _knox._ because the kirk ought to do nothing that is not of faith, and ought not to go before. she is bound to follow the voice of the true pastor. _sub-prior._ it is in faith that the ceremonies are commended, and they have proper significations to help our faith. the hardess[ ] in baptism signifies the richness of the law, and the oil the softness of god's mercy. likewise, every one of the ceremonies has a godly signification, and therefore they both proceed from faith, and are done in faith. [ ] harshness. _knox._ it is not enough that man invent a ceremony, and then give it a signification, according to his pleasure. the ceremonies of the gentiles, and to-day the ceremonies of mahomet, might be so justified. if anything proceed from faith, it must have the word of god for assurance; for ye are not ignorant that "faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of god." now, if ye would prove that your ceremonies proceed from faith and do please god, ye must prove that god in expressed words has commanded them. else ye shall never prove that they proceed from faith, nor yet that they please god. ye will but show that they are sin, and do displease him, according to the words of the apostle, "whatsoever is not of faith is sin." _sub-prior._ will ye bind us so strait that we may do nothing without the express word of god? what! if i ask a drink, do you think that i sin? i have not god's word for this. (it would appear that he gave this answer to shift over the argument upon friar arbuckle.) _knox._ i would we should not jest in so grave a matter; neither would i that ye should begin to elude the truth with sophistry; but, if ye do, i will defend myself as best i can. as to your drinking, i say that, if ye either eat or drink without assurance of god's word, in so doing ye ill-please god, and ye sin in your very eating and drinking. for, says the apostle, speaking even of meat and drink, "the creatures are sanctified unto man, even by the word and by prayer." the word is this: "all things are clean to the clean," and so forth. now, let me hear thus much of your ceremonies, and i shall give you the argument; but i wonder that ye compare profane and holy things so indiscreetly. the question was not, and is not of meat and drink, wherein the kingdom of god consists not, but the question is of god's true worshipping, without which we have no society with god. it is doubtful if, in the use of christ's sacraments, we may take the same freedom as we may do in eating and drinking. one meat i may eat, another i may refuse, and that without scruple of conscience. i may change one for another, as often as i please. may we do the same in matters of religion? may we cast away what we please, and retain what we please? if i recollect aright, moses, in the name of god, says to the people of israel, "all that the lord thy god commands thee to do, that do thou to the lord thy god: add nothing to it; diminish nothing from it." by this rule, i think, the kirk of christ should measure god's religion, and not by that which seems good in their own eyes. _sub-prior._ forgive me, i spake but in mows,[ ] and i was dry. and now, father (said he to the friar), follow the argument. ye have heard what i have said, and what is answered unto me again. [ ] jest. _arbuckle, greyfriar._ i shall prove plainly that ceremonies are ordained by god. _knox._ such as god has ordained, we allow, and with reverence we use them. but the question is of those that god has not ordained, such as, in baptism, are spittle, salt, candle, cuid[ ] (except to keep the bairn from cold), hardess, oil, and the rest of the papistical inventions. [ ] chrisom. _arbuckle._ i will even prove that these ye damn be ordained of god. _knox._ the proof thereof i would gladly hear. _arbuckle._ says not saint paul, that "another foundation than jesus christ may no man lay. but upon this foundation some build gold, silver, and precious stones; some hay, stubble, and wood." the gold, silver, and precious stones are the ceremonies of the church, which do abide the fire, and consume not away. this place of scripture is most plain. _knox._--i praise my god, through jesus christ, for i find his promise sure, true, and stable. christ jesus bids us "not fear, when we shall be called before men, to give confession of his truth;" for he promises that "it shall be given unto us in that hour what we shall speak." if i had sought the whole scripture, i could not have produced a place more proper for my purpose, nor more potent to confound you. now, to your argument. the ceremonies of the kirk, say ye, are gold, silver, and precious stones, because they are able to abide the fire; but i would learn of you, what fire is it that your ceremonies abide? and in the meantime, until ye be advised how to answer, i will show my mind, and make an argument against yours upon the same text. first, i have heard the text adduced for a proof of purgatory; but for defence of ceremonies, i have never heard or yet read of its use. omitting whether ye understand the mind of the apostle or not, i make my argument, and say, that which may abide the fire may abide the word of god. your ceremonies cannot abide the word of god: _ergo_ they cannot abide the fire; and if they cannot abide the fire, they are not gold, silver, nor precious stones. now, if ye find any ambiguity in the term "fire," which i interpret to be the word, find me a fire by the which things builded upon jesus christ should be tried, other than god and his word, which are both called fire in the scriptures, and i shall correct my argument. _arbuckle._ i stand not thereupon; but i deny your minor argument, to wit, that our ceremonies may not abide the trial of god's word. _knox._ i prove that that which god's word condemns, abides not the trial of god's word. but god's word condemns your ceremonies: therefore they do not abide the trial thereof. as the thief abides the trial of the inquest, and is thereby condemned to be hanged, even so may your ceremonies abide the trial of god's word, but not otherwise. and now i make plain in few words that wherein ye may seem to doubt, to wit, that god's word damns your ceremonies. this thing is evident; for the plain and straight commandment of god is, "not that thing which appears good in thy eyes shalt thou do to the lord thy god, but what the lord thy god has commanded thee, that do thou: add nothing to it; diminish nothing from it." now, unless ye be able to prove that god has commanded your ceremonies, this his former commandment will damn both you and them. the friar, somewhat abashed what first to answer, fell into a foul mire while he wandered about in the mist: for, alleging that we may not be so bound by the word, he affirmed that the apostles had not received the holy ghost when they did write their epistles; but that they did ordain the ceremonies after they received him. (few would have thought that so learned a man would have given so foolish an answer; and yet it is even as true as that he bare a grey cowl.) john knox, hearing the answer, started and said, "if that be true, i have long been in an error, and i think i shall die therein." the sub-prior said to him, "father, what say ye? god forbid that ye affirm that; for then farewell the ground of our faith." the friar, astonished, made the best shift that he could to correct his fall; but it could not be. john knox brought him often again to the ground of the argument; but he would never answer directly, but ever fled to the authority of the kirk. thereto the said john answered oftener than once that "the spouse of christ had neither power nor authority against the word of god." then said the friar, "if so be, ye will leave us no kirk." "indeed," said the other, "in david i read that there is a church of the malignants, for he says, '_odi ecclesiam malignantium_.' that church ye may have without the word, and therein ye may do many things directly fighting against the word of god. if ye choose to be of that church, i cannot impede you. but, as for me, i will be of none other church than that which hath christ jesus to be pastor, which hears his voice, and will not hear a stranger." in this disputation many other things were merely skiffed over; for the friar, after his fall, could speak nothing to a purpose. for purgatory he had no better proof than the authority of virgil in his sixth Æneid; and the pains thereof to him were an evil wife. how john knox answered that and many other things, he did witness in a treatise that he wrote in the galleys. this contained the sum of his doctrine and the confession of his faith, and was sent to his familiars in scotland; with the exhortation that they should continue in the truth which they had professed, notwithstanding any worldly adversity that might ensue. thus much of the disputation have we inserted here, to the intent that men may see how satan ever travails to obscure the light; and how god by his power, working in his weak vessels, confounds his craft and discloses his darkness. after this, neither papists nor friars had great heart for further disputation or reasoning; but they invented another shift, which appeared to proceed from godliness. it was an ordinance that learned men in the abbey and in the university should preach in the parish kirk, sunday about. the sub-prior began, next came the official called spittal (sermons penned to offend no man), and all the rest followed in their ranks. john knox smelled out the craft, and in the sermons which he made upon the week-days he prayed to god that they should be as busy in preaching when there should be more myster[ ] in it than there was then. "always," said he, "i praise god that christ jesus is preached, and nothing is said publicly against the doctrine ye have heard. if in my absence they shall speak anything which in my presence they do not, i protest that ye suspend your judgment until it please god ye hear me again." [ ] skill. [sidenote: signs follow the ministry of john knox: the backsliding of sir james balfour.] god so assisted his weak soldier, and so blessed his labours, that not only all those of the castle, but also a great number of the town, openly professed christ, by participation at the lord's table, in the same purity as now it is administered in the churches of scotland. among them was he that now either rules, or misrules, scotland: sir james balfour[ ] (sometimes called master james), the chief and principal protestant that then was to be found in this realm. we write this because we have heard that the said master james alleges that he never was of this our religion, but was brought up in martin luther's opinion of the sacrament, and therefore cannot communicate with us. his own conscience, and two hundred witnesses besides, know that he lies, and that he was one of the chief that would have given his life, if men might credit his words, for defence of the doctrine that the said john knox taught. but there is no great wonder if those that never were of us (as none of montquhanie's sons have shewn themselves to be) depart from us. it is proper and natural that the children follow the father; and let the godly liver of that race and progeny be shewn. if in them be either fear of god or love of virtue, further than the present commodity persuades them, men of judgment are deceived. but to return to our history. [ ] afterwards official of lothian: "the most corrupt man of his age."--_robertson._ [sidenote: the regent and the queen-dowager violate the appointment: a french army comes to their aid.] the priests and bishops, enraged at these proceedings in saint andrews, ran now to the governor, now to the queen,[ ] now to the whole council, and there might have been heard complaints and cries, "what are we doing? shall we suffer this whole realm to be infected with pernicious doctrine? fie upon you, and fie upon us." the queen and monsieur d'oysel (who then was _a secretis mulierum_ in the court) comforted them, and counselled them to be quiet, because they should see remedy before long. and so it proved; for upon the second last day of june there appeared in sight of the castle of saint andrews twenty-one french galleys, with a powerful army, the like whereof was never seen in that firth before. [ ] mary of lorraine, queen of james v. by these means the governor, the archbishop, the queen and monsieur d'oysel had treasonably broken the terms of the appointment. to excuse their treason, they had, eight days before, presented to the party in the castle of st. andrews an absolution bearing to be sent from rome, containing, after the aggravation of the crime, this clause, _remittimus irremissible_, that is, we remit the crime that cannot be remitted. when this had been considered by the most of the company that was in the castle, answer was given that the governor and council of the realm had promised them a sufficient and assured absolution, such as that did not appear to be; and that therefore they could not deliver the house, nor did they think that any reasonable man would require them so to do, considering that the promise made had not been truly kept. on the day after the galleys arrived, the house was summoned. this was denied, and they prepared for siege. they began to assault by sea, and shot for two days. but they neither got advantage nor honour; for they dang[ ] the slates off houses, but neither slew man nor did harm to any wall. the castle handled them so that saint barbara (the gunners' goddess) helped them nothing; for they lost many of their rowers, men chained in the galleys, and some soldiers, both by sea and land. and further, a galley that approached nearer than the rest was so dung with the cannon and other ordnance, that she was stopped under water, and so almost drowned. indeed, so she would have been, were it not that the rest gave her succour in time, and drew her first to the west sands, beyond the shot of the castle, and thereafter to dundee. there they remained until the governor, who then was at the siege of langhope, came unto them, with the rest of the french faction. [ ] knocked. by land the siege of the castle of st. andrews was made complete on the nineteenth day of july. trenches were cast; and ordnance was planted upon the abbey kirk, and upon saint salvator's college. this so annoyed the castle that they could keep neither their block-houses, the sea tower head, nor the west wall; for in all these places men were slain by great ordnance. yea, they mounted the ordnance so high upon the abbey kirk, that they might discover the ground of the close in divers places. moreover, the pest was within the castle, and divers died thereof. this affrighted some that were therein more than did the external force without. john knox was of another opinion, for he ever said that their corrupt life could not escape the punishment of god: that he continually asserted, from the time that he was called to preach. when they triumphed of their victory, and during the first twenty days they had many prosperous chances, he lamented, and ever said that they saw not what he saw. when they bragged of the strength and thickness of their walls, he said that they should prove but egg-shells. when they vaunted, "england will rescue us," he said, "ye shall not see them; but ye shall be delivered into your enemies' hands, and shall be carried to a strange country." [sidenote: the castle is stormed, and surrenders upon terms.] upon the second last day of july, at night, the ordnance was planted for the assault; nineteen cannons, whereof four were cannons-royal, called double cannons, besides other pieces. the cannonade began at four o'clock in the morning, and before ten o'clock of the day, the whole south quarter, betwixt the fore-tower and the east block-house, was made assaultable. the lower trance was condemned, divers were slain in it, and the east block-house was shot off from the rest of the place between ten and eleven o'clock. then fell a shower of rain that continued nearly an hour. the like of it had seldom been seen. it was so vehement that no man might abide without shelter. the cannons were left alone. some within the castle were of opinion that men should have ished,[ ] and put all in the hands of god. but because william kirkaldy was coming with the prior of capua, on commission from the king of france, nothing was enterprised. and so an appointment was made, and the castle surrendered upon saturday, the last of july. [ ] sallied forth. the heads of the appointment were:--that the lives of all within the castle should be saved, as well english as scottish. that they should be safely transported to france; and in case that, upon conditions that should be offered unto them by the king of france, they could not be content to remain in service and freedom there, they should, upon the expense of the king of france, be safely conveyed to such country as they should require, other than scotland. they would have nothing to do with the governor, nor with any scotsman; for these had all traitorously betrayed them, "and this," said the laird of grange, elder, a simple man of most stout courage, "i am assured god will revenge before long." [sidenote: the company of the castle are carried to france, and cast into prison and the galleys.] the galleys, well furnished with the spoil of the castle, returned to france, after certain days. escaping a great danger (for they all chapped[ ] upon the back of the sands), they arrived first at fecamp, and thereafter passed up the water of seine, and lay before rouen. there the principal gentlemen, who looked for freedom, were dispersed, and put in sundry prisons. the rest were left in the galleys, and there miserably treated. amongst these was the foresaid master james balfour, with his two brethren, david and gilbert, men without god. we write this because we hear that the said master james, principal misguider now of scotland, denies that he had anything to do with the castle of st. andrews, or that ever he was in the galleys. in breach of express promises (but princes have no fidelity further than for their own advantage), these things were done at rouen, and then the galleys departed to nantes, in brittany, where they lay upon the water of loire the whole winter. [ ] struck. [sidenote: the papists rejoice, and the regent receives the pope's thanks.] then was the joy of the papists both of scotland and france in full perfection; for this was their song of triumph-- priests content ye noo; priests content ye noo; for norman and his company has filled the galleys fou. the pope wrote his letters to the king of france, and to the governor of scotland, thanking them heartily for taking pains to revenge the death of his kind creature, the cardinal of scotland; and desiring them to continue in their severity as they had begun, that such things should not be attempted again. and so were all these that were taken in the castle condemned to perpetual prison; and the ungodly believed that christ jesus should never have triumphed in scotland after that. in scotland, that summer, there was nothing but mirth; for all things went with the priests, at their own pleasure. the castle of st. andrews was rased to the ground, the block-houses thereof were cast down, and the walls round about were demolished. whether this was done to fulfil their law, which commands that places where cardinals are slain shall so be used, or else for fear that england should have taken it, as afterwards they took broughty craig, we remit to the judgment of such as were consulted. [sidenote: the duke of somerset invades scotland.] this same year, , in the beginning of september, an army of ten thousand men from england entered scotland, by land, and some ships with ordnance came by sea. the governor and the archbishop, informed of this, gathered together the forces of scotland and assembled at edinburgh. the protector of england, with the earl of warwick, and their army, remained at preston, and about prestonpans: for they had certain offers to propose unto the nobility of scotland. these concerned the promises formerly made by them to king harry. before his death, he had gently required them to stand fast; and had undertaken that, if they would do so, they should have no trouble from him or his kingdom, but rather the help and comfort that he could give them in all things lawful. on this subject, a letter was now directed to the governor and council; but this fell into the hands of the archbishop of st. andrews, who, thinking that it could not be for his advantage that it should be divulged, suppressed it by his craft. [sidenote: the battle of pinkie cleuch.] upon friday, the ninth of september, the english army marched towards leith, and the scottish army marched from edinburgh to inveresk. the whole scottish army was not assembled, and yet skirmishing began; for nothing was expected but victory without a stroke. the protector, the earl of warwick, the lord gray, and all the english captains were playing at the dice: no men were stouter than the priests and canons, with their shaven crowns and black jacks. the earl of warwick and the lord gray, who had the chief charge of the horsemen, perceiving the host to be molested by the scottish prickers, and that the multitude were neither under order nor obedience (for they were divided from the great army), sent forth certain troops of horsemen, and some of their borderers, either to fight them, or else to put them out of their sight, so that they might not annoy the host. the skirmish grew hot, and at length the scotsmen gave back, and fled without once turning. the chase continued far, both towards the east and towards the west. many were slain, and he that now is lord home was afterwards surrendered to the englishmen. the loss of these men neither moved the governor, nor yet the archbishop, his bastard brother. they would revenge the matter well enough upon the morrow; for they were hands enough (no word of god): the english heretics had no faces; they would not abide. upon the saturday, the armies of both sides arrayed themselves. the english army took the mid part of falside hill, having their ordnance planted before them, and their ships and two galleys brought as near the land as the water would allow. the scottish army stood at first in a reasonably strong position and in good order, having betwixt them and the english army the water of esk, otherwise called musselburgh water. at length, on the governor's behalf, with sound of trumpet, order was given that all men should march forward, and go over the water. some say that this was procured by the abbot of dunfermline, and master hugh rigg, for preservation of carberry. men of judgment did not like the move; for they thought it no wisdom to leave their strong position. but commandment upon commandment, and charge upon charge were given, and, thus urged, they obeyed unwillingly. the earl of angus was in the vanguard, and had in his company the gentlemen of fife, angus, mearns, and the westland, with many others that for love resorted to him and especially those that were professors of the evangel; for they supposed that england would not make great pursuit of him. he passed first through the water, and arrayed his host directly before the enemies. the earl of huntly, and his northland men followed. last came the duke, having in his company the earl of argyll, with his own friends, and the body of the realm. the englishmen, perceiving the danger, and that the scotsmen intended to take the top of the hill, made haste to prevent the peril. the lord gray was commanded to give the charge with his men of arms. this he did, albeit the hazard was very unlikely; for the earl of angus's host stood even as a wall. these received the first assaulters upon the points of their spears (which were longer than those of the englishmen) so rudely that fifty horse and men of the first rank lay dead at once, without any hurt being done to this scots army, except that the spears of the two foremost ranks were broken. this discomfiture received, the rest of the horsemen fled; yea, some passed beyond falside hill. the lord gray himself was hurt in the mouth, and plainly refused to charge again; for, he said, "it was like running against a wall." the galleys, the ships, and the ordnance planted upon the mid hill shot terribly. the cross-fire of the ordnance of the galleys affrighted the scots army wondrously. while every man laboured to draw from the north, whence the danger appeared, they began to reel, and at that point the english footmen were marching forward, albeit some of their horsemen were in flight. the earl of angus's army stood still, expecting that either huntly or the duke would rencounter the next battle; but it had been decreed that the favourers of england, and the heretics, as the priests called them, and the englishmen should have the struggle to themselves for the day. panic arose, and, in an instant, those who before were victors and were not yet assaulted with any force, except with ordnance, as we have said, cast their spears from them and fled. thus was god's power so evidently seen, that in one moment, yea, in one instant, both the armies were fleeing. from the hill, from those that hoped for no victory upon the english part, the shout arose, "they flee, they flee." at the first it could not be believed, but at last it was clearly seen that all had given back; and then began a cruel slaughter, which was the greater by reason of the late displeasure of the men at arms. the chase and slaughter extended almost to edinburgh, upon the one part, and be-west dalkeith upon the other. the number of the slain upon the scottish side was judged to be nigh ten thousand men. the earl of huntly was taken, and carried to london; but he relieved himself, being surety for many ransoms. whether he did so honestly or unhonestly we know not; but, as the bruit passed, he used policy with england. in the same battle was slain the master of erskine, dearly beloved of the queen, who made great lamentation for him, and bare his death in mind for many days. when the certainty of the discomfiture came, she was in edinburgh, waiting for tidings; but with expedition she posted that same night to stirling, with monsieur d'oysel, who was as fleyed[ ] as "a fox when his hole is smoked." thus did god take the second revenge upon the perjured governor and such as assisted him to defend an unjust quarrel; albeit many innocents fell with the wicked. the english army came to leith, and, after securing their prisoners and spoil, returned to england with this unlooked-for victory. [ ] scared. during the following winter, great hardships were inflicted upon all the borders of scotland. broughty craig was taken by the englishmen, besieged by the governor, but still kept. there gavin, the best of the hamiltons, was slain, and the ordnance lost. the englishmen, encouraged, began to fortify the hill above broughty house. the position was called the fort of broughty, and was very noisome[ ] to dundee. this it burned and laid waste; as it did the most part of angus, which was not assured and under friendship with england. [ ] troublesome. at the easter following, haddington was fortified by the englishmen. the most part of lothian, from edinburgh east, was either assured or laid waste. thus did god plague in every quarter; but men were blind, and would not, or could not, consider the cause. the lairds of ormiston and brunstone were banished, and afterwards forfeited, and so were all those of the castle of st. andrews. the sure knowledge of the troubles of scotland coming to france, there was prepared a navy and army. the navy was such as never was seen to come from france for the support of scotland.... they arrived in scotland in may . preparations were made for the siege of haddington; but it was another thing that they meant, as the issue declared. [sidenote: the parliament at haddington: queen mary is sold to france.] the whole body of the realm having assembled, the form of a parliament was held in the abbey of haddington. the principal head was the marriage to the king of france of the princess, who had formerly been contracted to king edward; and her immediate transfer to france, by reason of the danger to her from the invasion of our old enemies of england. some were corrupted with buds,[ ] some were deceived by flattering promises, and some for fear were compelled to consent, for the french soldiers were the officers of arms in that parliament. the laird of buccleuch, a bloody man, sware, with many "god's wounds," that "they that would not consent should do worse." the governor got the duchy of châtelherault, with the order of the cockle, a full discharge of all intromissions with the treasure and substance of king james the fifth, and possession of the castle of dumbarton, until issue of the queen's body should be seen. upon these and other conditions, he stood content to sell his sovereign. huntly, argyll, and angus were likewise made knights of the cockle; and, for that and other good deeds received, they also sold their interest. in short, none was found to resist that unjust demand; and so the queen was sold to go to france, to the end that in her youth she should drink of the liquor that should remain with her all her lifetime, for a plague to this realm, and for her final destruction. therefore, albeit there now comes out from her a fire that consumes many, let no man wonder. she is the hand of god, who, in his displeasure, is punishing our former ingratitude.... [ ] gifts; bribes. [sidenote: the siege of haddington.] once it was decided that our queen, without further delay, should be delivered to france, the siege continued. there was great shooting, but no assaulting; and yet they had fair occasion offered unto them. for the englishmen, approaching the town with powder, victuals, and men for the comforting of the besieged, lost an army of six thousand men. sir robert bowes was taken prisoner, and the most part of the borderers were either captured or slain. the town might justly have despaired of any further succour, but yet it held good; for the stout courage and prudent government of general sir james wilford did so inspire the whole captains and soldiers that they determined to die upon their walls. from the time that the frenchmen had gotten the bone for which the dog barked, the pursuit of the town was slow. the siege was raised, and the queen was conveyed by the west seas to france; and so the cardinal of lorraine got her into his keeping, a morsel meet for his own mouth.... that winter monsieur de dessé remained in scotland with the bands of frenchmen. they fortified inveresk, to prevent the english from invading edinburgh and leith. some skirmishes there were betwixt the one and the other, but no notable thing was done, except that the french almost took haddington, as we shall see. [sidenote: the french fruits: arrogance of the french soldiery.] thinking themselves more than masters in all parts of scotland, and in edinburgh principally, the french thought that they could do no wrong to any scotsman. a certain frenchman having delivered a culverin to george tod, a scotsman, to be stocked, he was bringing it through the street, when another frenchman claimed it. he would have reft it from the said george; but he resisted, alleging that the frenchman did wrong. parties began to assemble to succour of the scotsman, as well as to that of the frenchman. two of the frenchmen were stricken down, and the rest were chased from the cross to niddrie's wynd head. the provost, being upon the street, apprehended two of the french, and was carrying them to the tolbooth; when from monsieur de dessé's lodging and close issued forth frenchmen, to the number of threescore persons. these, with drawn swords, resisted the said provost. but the town, assembling, repulsed them, until they came to the nether bow. there monsieur de la chapelle, with the whole bands of frenchmen in arms, rencountered the said provost and repulsed him (for the town was without weapons for the most part), and then attacked all that they met. in the throat of the bow were slain david kirke and david barbour, who were at the provost's back, and then were slain the said provost himself, who was laird of stenhouse and captain of the castle, james hamilton, his son, william chapman, a godly man, master william stewart, william purves, and a woman, named elizabeth stewart. thereafter the soldiers tarried within the town, by force, from five o'clock until after seven at night, and then retired to the canongate, as to their receptacle and refuge. the whole town, yea, the governor and nobility, commoved at the unworthiness of this bold attempt, craved justice upon the malefactors, and threatened that they would otherwise execute justice on the whole. the queen, craftily enough, monsieur de dessé, and monsieur d'oysel laboured for pacification, and did promise that "unless the frenchmen, by themselves alone, should do such an act as might recompense the wrong that they had done, they should not refuse that justice should be executed, with rigour." these fair words pleased our fools, and the french bands were the next night directed to haddington. they approached the town a little after midnight, so secretly that they were never espied until the foremost were within the base court, and the whole company in the churchyard, not two pair of butt-lengths from the town. the soldiers, englishmen, were all asleep, except the watch, which was slender, and yet the shout was raised, "bows and bills: bows and bills," which in all towns of war signifies need of extreme defence, to avoid present danger. the affrighted arose; weapons that first came to hand serving for the need. one amongst many came to the east port, where lay two great pieces of ordnance, and where the enemies were known to be. crying to his fellows that were at the gate making defence, "ware before," he fired a great piece, and thereafter another. god so conducted this discharge that, after it, no further pursuit was made. the bullets rebounded from the wall of the friar kirk, to the wall of st. catherine's chapel, which stood directly fornent it, and from the wall of the chapel to the kirk wall again, so often that there fell more than a hundred of the french, at those two shots only. the firing was continued, but the french retired with diligence, and returned to edinburgh, without harm done, except the destruction of some drinking beer, which lay in the said chapel and kirk. herein was ample satisfaction for the slaughter of the said captain and provost, and for the slaughter of such as were slain with him. this was the beginning of the french fruits. this winter also did the laird of raith most innocently suffer, the head of the said nobleman being stricken from him; especially because he was known to be one that unfeignedly favoured the truth of god's word, and was a great friend to those that were in the castle of st. andrews. of their deliverance, and of god's wondrous working with them during the time of their bondage, we must now speak, lest, in suppressing the record of so notable a work of god, we might justly be accused of ingratitude. [sidenote: of the scots prisoners in france, and their deliverance.] the principals being confined in several houses, as before we have said, there was great labour to make them have a good opinion of the mass. chiefly was there travail with norman leslie, the laird of grange, and the laird of pitmilly, who were in the castle of cherbourg. pressed to go to mass with the captain, they answered that "the captain had commandment to keep their bodies, but he had no power to command their conscience." the captain replied that "he had power to command and to compel them to go where he would." they answered that "they would not refuse to go to any lawful place with him; but they would not, either for him or for the king, do anything that was against their conscience." the captain said, "will ye not go to the mass?" they answered, "no; and if ye would compel us, we will displease you further; for we will so use ourselves there that all those that are present shall know that we despite it." similar answers, and somewhat sharper, did william kirkaldy, peter carmichael, and such as were with them in mount st. michael, give to their captain; for they said they would not only hear mass every day, but that they would help to say it, provided that they might stick the priests. master henry balnaves, who was in the castle of rouen, was most sharply assaulted of all; for, because he was judged learned, learned men were appointed to travail with him, and with them he had many conflicts. but, god so assisting him, they departed confounded, and he, by the power of god's spirit, remained constant in the truth and profession of the same, without any wavering or declining to idolatry. these that were in the galleys were threatened with torments, if they would not give reverence to the mass; but the french could never make the poorest of that company give reverence to that idol. yea, when, upon the saturday night, they sang their _salve regina_, the whole scotsmen put on their caps, their hoods, or such things as they had to cover their heads; and when others were compelled to kiss a painted board, which they called "notre dame," they were not pressed more than once; for this was what happened. soon after the arrival at nantes, their great _salve_ was sung, and a glorious painted lady was brought to be kissed, and was presented to one of the scotsmen then chained, amongst others. he gently said, "trouble me not; such an idol is accursed; and therefore i will not touch it." the patron and the arguesyn[ ] with two officers, having the chief charge of all such matters, said, "thou shalt handle it;" and so they violently thrust it to his face, and put it betwixt his hands. he, seeing the extremity, took the idol, and advisedly looking about, cast it into the river, saying, "let our lady now save herself: she is light enough; let her learn to swim." after that no scotsman was urged with that idolatry. [ ] skipper and the lieutenant. these are things that appear to be of no great importance; and yet, if we do rightly consider, they express the same obedience as god required of his people israel when they should be carried to babylon. he gave charge unto them that, when they should see the babylonians worship their gods of gold, silver, metal, and wood, they should say, "the gods that have not made the heaven and the earth shall perish from the heaven, and out of the earth." [sidenote: john knox prophesies of himself: his confidence in god's deliverance.] master james balfour being in the same galley as john knox, and being wondrously familiar with him, would often ask his opinion whether he thought that they should ever be delivered. his answer ever was, from the day that they entered the galleys, that god, for his own glory, would deliver them from that bondage, even in this life. the second time that the galleys returned to scotland, when they were lying betwixt dundee and st. andrews, and the said john was so extremely sick that few hoped his life, the said master james willed him to look to the land, and asked if he knew it? he answered, "yes, i know it well; for i see the steeple of the place in which god first in public opened my mouth to his glory. i am fully persuaded that, however weak i may now appear, i shall not depart this life until my tongue shall glorify his godly name in the same place." the said master james reported this in presence of many famous witnesses, many years before the said john set his foot in scotland this last time. william kirkaldy, then younger of grange, peter carmichael, robert and william leslie, who were all together in mount st. michael, wrote to the said john, asking his counsel as to whether they might, with safe conscience, break their prison? his answer was that if, without the blood of any shed or spilt by them for their deliverance, they could set themselves at freedom, they might safely take it: but that he would never consent to their shedding any man's blood for their freedom. he added, further, that he was assured that god would deliver them and the rest of that company, even in the eyes of the world; but not by such means as we had looked for; that was, by the force of friends or by their other labours. he affirmed that they should not be delivered by such means, but that god would so work in the deliverance of them, that the praise thereof should redound to his glory only. he therefore urged every one to take any occasion for deliverance that god might offer, provided that nothing was done against god's express commandment. john knox was the more earnest in giving his counsel, because the old laird of grange, and others, were averse from their purpose, fearing lest the escaping of the others should be an occasion of their own worse treatment. thereto the said john answered that such fear proceeded not from god's spirit, but only from a blind love of self. no good purpose was to be stayed for things that were in the hands and power of god. in one instant, he added, god delivered all that company into the hands of unfaithful men, but so would he not relieve them. some would he deliver by one means, and at one time, and others must, for a season, abide upon his good pleasure. in the end, they embraced this counsel. upon the king's even, when frenchmen commonly drink liberally, the foresaid four persons, having the help and conduct of a boy of the house, bound all those that were in the castle, put them in sundry houses, locked the doors upon them, took the keys from the captain, and departed without harm done to the person of any, or without touching anything that appertained to the king, the captain, or the house. great search was made through the whole country for them. but it was god's good pleasure so to conduct them that they escaped the hands of the faithless, albeit it was with long travail, and endurance of great pain and poverty; for the french boy left them, and took with him the small poise that they had. having neither money, nor knowledge of the country, and fearing that the boy should discover them, as in very deed he did, of purpose they divided themselves, changed their garments, and went in sundry parties. the two brethren, william and robert leslie (who now are become, the said robert especially, enemies to christ jesus and to all virtue) came to rouen. william kirkaldy and peter carmichael, in beggars' garments, came to le conquet, and for the space of twelve or thirteen weeks they travelled as poor mariners, from port to port, till at length they got a french ship, and landed in the west. from thence they came to england, where they met with the said john knox, he and alexander clark having been delivered that same winter. [sidenote: john knox in england and on the continent.] the said john was first appointed preacher to berwick, then to newcastle; and lastly, he was called to london and the south parts of england, where he remained until the death of king edward the sixth. then he left england, and went to geneva, where he remained in his private study, until he was called to be preacher to the english congregation at frankfort. this call he obeyed, albeit unwillingly, at the commandment of that notable servant of god, john calvin. he remained at frankfort until some of the learned, more given to unprofitable ceremonies than to sincerity of religion, began to quarrel with him. these men, because they despaired of prevailing before the magistrate there in the overt purpose of establishing their corruptions, accused him of treason committed against the emperor, and against their sovereign queen mary, in that, in his _admonition to england_, he called the one little inferior to nero, and the other more cruel than jezebel. the magistrate, perceiving their malice and fearing that the said john should fall into the hands of his accusers by one means or another, gave secret warning to him to depart from the city; for they could not save him if he were required by the emperor, or by the queen of england, in the emperor's name. so the said john returned to geneva, from thence to dieppe, and thereafter to scotland, as we shall hear. in the winter that the galleys remained in scotland, there were delivered master james balfour, his two brethren, david and gilbert, john auchinleck, john sibbald, john gray, william guthrie, and stephen bell. the gentlemen that remained in prisons were, by the procurement of the queen-dowager, set at liberty in the month of july . these were shortly thereafter recalled to scotland, their peace was proclaimed, and they themselves were restored to their lands, in despite of their enemies. and that was done in hatred of the duke, and because france began to thirst to have the regiment of scotland in her own hands. howsoever it was, god made their enemies set them at liberty and freedom. there still remained a number of common servants in the galleys, but these were all delivered when the contract of peace was made betwixt france and england, after the taking of boulogne. so was the whole company set at liberty, none perishing except james melvin, who departed from the miseries of this life in the castle of brest in brittany. this we write, that the posterity to come may understand how potently god wrought in preserving and delivering those that had but a small knowledge of his truth, and for the love of the same hazarded all. we or our posterity may see a fearful dispersion of such as oppose themselves to impiety, or take upon them to punish the same otherwise than laws of men will permit: we may see them forsaken by men, and, as it were, despised and punished by god. but, if we do, let us not damn the persons that punish vice for just causes, nor yet despair that the same god that casts down, for causes unknown to us, will again raise up the persons dejected, to his glory and their comfort.... [sidenote: haddington proves the truth of master george wishart's foreboding.] haddington being in the hands of the english, and much herschip being done in the country (for what the englishmen did not destroy, the french consumed), god did begin to fight for scotland; for to the town named he sent so contagious a pest, that with great difficulty could the english garrison have their dead buried. they were oft reinforced with new men, but all was in vain. hunger and pest were within the town, and the enemy, with a camp-volant,[ ] lay about them and intercepted all victuals, unless these were brought by a convoy from berwick; and the council of england was compelled, in spring, to withdraw its forces from that place. so, after spoiling and burning some part of the town, they left it to be occupied by such as first should take possession--and those were the frenchmen, with a mean number of the ancient inhabitants. thus did god perform the words and the threatening of his servant master george wishart, who said that, for their contempt of god's messenger, they should be visited with sword and fire, with pestilence, strangers, and famine. [ ] expeditionary force. [sidenote: peace proclaimed (april ): the papists resume persecution.] after this, peace was contracted betwixt france and england and scotland; and a separate contract of peace was made betwixt scotland and flanders, with all the easterlings; so that scotland had peace with the world. but yet the bishops would make war with god. as soon as they got any quietness, they apprehended adam wallace, a simple man, without great learning, but zealous in godliness and of an upright life. he with his wife, beatrice livingston, frequented the company of the lady ormiston, for the instruction of her children during the trouble of her husband, who then was banished. that bastard, called archbishop of st. andrews, took the said adam from the place of winton, and carried him to edinburgh. and, in the kirk of the black thieves, alias friars, he was brought to trial before the duke, the earl of huntly, divers others besides, and the bishops and their rabble. [sidenote: the faithful testimony and martyrdom of adam wallace.] master john lauder was accuser, and alleged that he took upon him to preach. he answered that he never considered himself worthy of so excellent a vocation, and therefore never took upon him to preach; but that he would not deny that, sometimes at the table and sometimes in other privy places, he had read the scriptures, and had given such exhortation as god pleased to give him, to such as pleased to hear him. "knave," quoth one, "what have ye to do to meddle with the scriptures?" "i think," said he, "it is the duty of every christian to seek the will of his god, and the assurance of his salvation, where it is to be found, and that is within his old and new testament." "what then," said another, "shall we leave to the bishops and kirkmen to do, if every man shall be a babbler upon the bible?" "it becometh you," said he, "to speak more reverently of god and of his blessed word. if the judge were incorrupt, he would punish you for your blasphemy. to your question, i answer that, albeit ye and i and other five thousand within this realm should read the bible, and speak of it what god should give us to speak, yet should we leave more to the bishops to do than either they will or yet can well do. we leave to them to preach the evangel of jesus christ publicly, and to feed the flock which he hath redeemed with his own blood, and hath commended to the care of all true pastors. when we leave this unto them, methinks we leave to them a heavy burden; and we do them no wrong if we search our own salvation where it is to be found, considering that they are but dumb dogs, and unsavoury salt that has altogether lost its season." the bishops, offended, said, "what prating is this? let his accusation be read." and then was begun, "false traitor, heretic, thou didst baptize thine own bairn. thou saidst there is no purgatory. thou saidst that to pray to saints and for the dead is idolatry and a vain superstition, and so on. what sayest thou of these things?" he answered, "if i should be bound to answer, i would require an upright and indifferent judge." the earl of huntly disdainfully said, "foolish man, wilt thou desire another judge than my lord duke's grace, great governor of scotland, and my lords the bishops, and the clergy here present?" thereto he answered, "the bishops can be no judges of me; for they are open enemies to me and to the doctrine that i profess. and, as for my lord duke, i cannot tell if he has the knowledge that should be in him that should judge and discern betwixt lies and the truth, the inventions of men and the true worshipping of god. i desire god's word," and with that he produced the bible, "to be judge betwixt the bishops and me, and i am content that ye shall all hear. if by this book i shall be convicted to have taught, spoken, or done, in matters of religion, anything that repugns to god's will, i refuse not to die; but if i cannot be convicted, as i am assured by god's word i shall not be, then i in god's name desire your assistance, that malicious men may not execute unjust tyranny upon me." the earl of huntly said, "what a babbling fool this is. thou shalt get none other judges than these that sit here." thereto the said adam answered, "the good will of god be done. but be ye assured, my lord, with such measure as ye mete to others, with the same measure it shall be meted to you again. i know that i shall die, but be ye assured that my blood will be required of your hands." alexander earl of glencairn, yet alive, then said to the bishop of orkney, and others that sat near him, "take you yon, my lords of the clergy; for here i protest, for my part, that i consent not to his death." and so, without fear, the said adam prepared to answer. as to the baptizing of his own child, he said, "it was and is as lawful to me, for lack of a true minister, to baptize my own child, as it was to abraham to circumcise his son ishmael and his family. and as for purgatory, praying to saints, and praying for the dead, i have read both the new and old testaments often, but i neither could find mention nor assurance of them; and, therefore, i believe that they are but mere inventions of man, devised for covetousness's sake." "what sayest thou of the mass?" speired[ ] the earl of huntly. he answered, "i say, my lord, as my master jesus christ says, 'that which is in greatest estimation before men is abomination before god.'" then all cried out, "heresy! heresy!" and so this simple servant of god was adjudged to the fire; which he patiently sustained that same afternoon, upon the castle hill. [ ] inquired. thus the papists began again to pollute the land, which god had lately plagued. their iniquity was not yet come to that full ripeness in which god willed that it should be made manifest to this whole realm that they were faggots prepared for the everlasting fire, and men whom neither plagues might correct, nor the light of god's word convert from their darkness and impiety. [sidenote: the duke is deposed, and the queen-dowager is made regent: .] peace contracted, the queen-dowager passed by sea to france, and took with her divers of the nobility of scotland, to wit, the earls huntly, glencairn, marischall, and cassillis, the lords maxwell and fleming, and sir george douglas; together with all the king's natural sons, and divers barons and gentlemen of ecclesiastical estate, the bishop of galloway and many others, with promises that they should be richly rewarded for their good service. what they received we cannot tell; but few made ruse[ ] at their returning. the dowager practised somewhat with her brethren, the duke of guise and the cardinal of lorraine, and the governor afterwards felt the weight of this: for shortly after her return he was deposed from the government--justly by god, but most unjustly by men--and she made regent in the year of god . a crown was put upon her head--as seemly a sight, if men had eyes, as to put a saddle upon the back of an unruly cow. then did she begin to practise practice upon practice, how france might be advanced, her friends made rich, and she brought to immortal glory.... [ ] boast. [sidenote: the death and virtues of edward vi.] thus did light and darkness strive within the realm of scotland; the darkness ever before the world suppressing the light, from the death of that notable servant of god, master patrick hamilton, unto the death of edward sixth, the most godly and most virtuous king that hath been known to have reigned in england or elsewhere these many years bypast, who departed the misery of this life on the sixth of july . the death of this prince was lamented by all the godly within europe; for the graces given unto him by god, by nature as well as through erudition and godliness, passed the measure that is commonly given to other princes in their greatest perfection, and yet he exceeded not sixteen years of age. what gravity beyond his years, what wisdom passing all expectation of man, and what dexterity in answering all questions proposed, were in that excellent prince, the ambassadors of all countries did bear witness. yea, some that were mortal enemies to him and to his realm, amongst whom the queen-dowager of scotland was not the least, could and did so testify. the said queen-dowager, returning from france through england, communed with him at length, and gave record, when she came to this realm, that she found more wisdom and solid judgment in young king edward than she would have looked for in any three princes that were then in europe. his liberality towards the godly and learned, persecuted in other realms, was remarkable. germans, frenchmen, italians, scots, spaniards, poles, greeks, and hebrews can yet give sufficient document[ ] of this. martin bucer, peter martyr, joannes alasco, and many others were honourably entertained upon his public stipends, as their patents can witness, and as they themselves during their lives never would have denied. [ ] evidence. [sidenote: the superstitious cruelty of mary of england, and of the queen regent.] after the death of this most virtuous prince, of whom the godless people of england, for the most part, were not worthy, satan intended nothing less than that the light of jesus christ should have been utterly extinguished within the whole isle of britain. for there was raised up after him, in god's hot displeasure, that idolatrous jezebel, mischievous mary, of the spaniards' blood; a cruel persecutrix of god's people, as the acts of her unhappy reign can sufficiently witness. and in scotland, at that same time, as we have heard, there reigned that crafty practiser, marie of lorraine, then named regent of scotland; who, bound to the devotion of her two brethren, the duke of guise and the cardinal of lorraine, did only abide the opportunity to cut the throats of all those within the realm of scotland in whom she suspected any knowledge of god. satan thought that his kingdom of darkness was in quietness and rest, in the one realm as well as in the other; but that provident eye of the eternal our god, who continually watches for preservation of his church, did so dispose all things, that satan shortly after found himself far disappointed in his conclusions. for in the cruel persecution carried on by that monster, mary of england, godly men were dispersed among divers nations, and then it pleased the goodness of our god to send some of these unto us, for our comfort and instruction. [sidenote: john knox follows william harlaw and john willock to scotland.] first came a simple man, william harlaw, who, although his erudition excels not, is yet, for his zeal, and diligent plainness in doctrine, to this day worthy of praise, and remains a faithful member within the church of scotland. after him came that notable man, john willock, with some commission from the duchess of embden to the queen regent. but his principal purpose was to ascertain what work god had for him in his native country. these two did sometimes assemble the brethren in several companies, and by their exhortations those began to be greatly encouraged, and did show that they had an earnest thirst of godliness. last came john knox, in the end of harvest, in the year of god . lodged in the house of that notable man of god, james syme, he began to exhort secretly in that same house; and thereto repaired the laird of dun, david forrest, and some certain personages of the town. [sidenote: the good testimony of elizabeth adamson, mistress barron.] amongst these was elizabeth adamson, spouse to james barron, burgess of edinburgh, who had a troubled conscience, and delighted much in the company of the said john, because he, according to the grace given unto him, opened more fully the fountain of god's mercies, than did the common sort of teachers that she had heard before, for she had heard none but friars. she did with much greediness drink of that fountain, and at her death she expressed the fruit of her hearing, to the great comfort of all those that repaired to her. albeit she suffered most grievous torment in her body, from her mouth there was heard nothing but praising of god, except that sometimes she would lament the troubles of those that were troubled by her. when her sisters asked what she thought of the pain which she then suffered in body, in comparison with that with which sometimes she had been troubled in spirit, she answered, "a thousand years of this torment, and ten times more joined unto it, is not to be compared to the quarter of an hour that i suffered in my spirit. i thank my god, through jesus christ, that he has delivered me from that most fearful pain; and welcome be this, even so long as it pleaseth his godly majesty to discipline me therewith." a little before her departure, the said elizabeth desired her sisters and some others that were beside her to sing a psalm. amongst others, she appointed the hundred and third psalm, beginning, "my soul, praise thou the lord always." this ended, she said, "at the teaching of this psalm, my troubled soul first began effectually to taste of the mercy of god, which now to me is more sweet and precious than were all the kingdoms of the earth given to me to possess for a thousand years." the priests urged her with their ceremonies and superstitions, but to them she answered, "depart from me, ye sergeants of satan; for i have refused, and in your own presence do refuse, all your abominations. that which ye call your sacrament and christ's body, as ye have deceived us to believe in times past, is nothing but an idol, and has nothing to do with the right institution of jesus christ. therefore, in god's name, i command you not to trouble me." they departed, alleging that she raved, and wist not what she said. shortly thereafter she slept in the lord jesus, to the no small comfort of those that saw her blessed departing. we could not omit mention of this worthy woman, who gave so notable a confession before the great light of god's word did universally shine throughout this realm. [sidenote: john knox argues that the mass is idolatry.] at the first coming of the said john knox, divers who had a zeal to godliness made small scruple to go to the mass, or to communicate with the abused sacraments in the papistical manner. perceiving this, he began, in privy conference as well as in preaching, to show the impiety of the mass, and how dangerous it was to participate in any way with idolatry. the consciences of some were affrighted, and the matter began to agitate from man to man. so the said john was called to supper by the laird of dun for that purpose, and there were convened david forrest, master robert lockhart, john willock, and william maitland of lethington, younger, a man of good learning, and of sharp wit and reasoning. the question was proposed, and it was answered by the said john that it was nowise lawful to a christian to present himself to that idol. nothing was omitted that might make for the temporiser, and yet was every head fully answered, and especially one wherein they thought their great defence stood, to wit, that paul, at the commandment of james and the elders of jerusalem, went to the temple and feigned to pay his vow with others. after a full discussion, william maitland concluded, saying, "i see perfectly that our shifts will serve nothing before god, seeing that they stand us in so small stead before man." the answer of john knox to the act of paul, and to the commandment of james, was that paul's act had nothing to do with their going to the mass. to pay vows was sometimes god's commandment, and was never idolatry: but the mass was from the beginning, and still remained odious idolatry. "secondarily," said he, "i greatly doubt whether either james's commandment or paul's obedience proceeded from the holy ghost...." after these and like reasonings, the mass began to be abhorred by such as before had frequented it for the fashion, and for avoidance of slander, as then they termed it. [sidenote: john knox preaches in different parts, and administers the lord's table.] at the request of the laird of dun, john knox followed him to his place of dun, where he remained a month, daily occupied in preaching; and the principal men of that country were among his audiences. after his return, his residence was most in calder. the lord erskine that now is, the earl of argyll, then lord of lorne, and lord james stewart, then prior of st. andrews, and now earl of moray, came to calder and so approved his doctrine that they expressed a desire that it should have been public. that same winter he taught commonly in edinburgh; and, after yule, on the invitation of the laird of barr and robert campbell of kinyeancleuch, he came to kyle, and taught in the barr, in the house of the carnell, in the kinyeancleuch, in the town of ayr, and in the houses of ochiltree and gadgirth, and in some of them he ministered the lord's table. before easter, the earl of glencairn sent for him to his place of finlayston; where, after preaching, he likewise ministered the lord's table. besides glencairn himself, his lady, two of his sons, and certain of his friends were partakers. when he returned to calder, divers from edinburgh, and from the country about, assembled there, for the preaching as well as for the right use of the lord's table, which they had never practised before. thence he departed the second time to the laird of dun. his teaching was then with greater liberty, and the gentlemen required that he should likewise minister unto them the table of the lord jesus, whereof were partakers the most part of the gentlemen of mearns. to the praise of god, these do, to this day, constantly adhere to the doctrine which then they professed, to wit, that they refused all society with idolatry, and bound themselves to maintain, to the uttermost of their powers, the true preaching of the evangel of jesus christ, as god should offer unto them preachers and opportunity. [sidenote: john knox is summoned to answer for his doctrine: the diet abandoned.] the friars from all quarters flocked to the bishops with the bruit, and the said john knox was summoned to appear in the kirk of the black friars in edinburgh on the fifteenth day of may . the said john decided to obey the summons, and for that purpose john erskine of dun, with divers other gentlemen, assembled in the town of edinburgh. but that diet was not held; for the bishops either perceived informality in their own proceedings, or feared that danger might ensue upon their extreme measures. on the saturday before, they cassed[ ] their own summons; and the said john, on the day appointed by the summons, taught in edinburgh in a greater audience than ever before he had done in that town. the place was the bishop of dunkeld's great lodging, and there he continued teaching for ten days, both before and after noon. [ ] annulled. [sidenote: john knox writes to the queen regent.] the earl of glencairn allured the earl marischall, with harry drummond, his counsellor for that time, to hear an exhortation, one night. they were so well satisfied, that they both desired the said john to write unto the queen regent a letter that might move her to hear the word of god. he obeyed, and wrote that which was afterwards printed, and is called "the letter to the queen dowager." this was delivered into her own hands by the said alexander, earl of glencairn. when she had read this letter, she delivered it to that proud prelate, beaton,[ ] archbishop of glasgow, a day or two after, and said in mockage, "please you, my lord, read a pasquil." [ ] james, nephew of the cardinal. [sidenote: john knox is recalled to geneva, and leaves the realm: he is burned in effigy.] while john knox was thus occupied in scotland, letters came unto him from the english kirk in geneva, in god's name commanding him, as their chosen pastor, to repair unto them for their comfort. upon this, the said john prepared to obey the summons. he bade farewell in almost every congregation in which he had preached, and exhorted us to prayers, to reading of the scriptures, and to mutual conference, until such time as god should give unto us greater liberty. by the procurement and labours of robert campbell of kinyeancleuch, he visited the old earl of argyll in the castle of campbell, and there he taught certain days. the laird of glenorchy, being one of his auditors, desired the earl of argyll to detain him; but he, purposed upon his journey, would not at that time stay for any request. he added that, if god so blessed these small beginnings and they continued in godliness, they should find him obedient whensoever they pleased to command him; but that he must needs visit once that little flock which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave. in the month of july he left this realm and passed to france, and so to geneva. immediately after, the bishops summoned him, and, for non-compearance, burned him in effigy at the cross of edinburgh, in the year of god . [sidenote: the regent declares war on england: the nobles decline to move.] in the winter that the said john abode in scotland, there appeared a comet, the course of which was from the south and south-west to the north and northeast. it was seen during the months of november, december, and january, and was called "the fiery besom." soon after, christian, king of denmark, died, and war rose betwixt scotland and england; for the commissioners of both realms, who for almost six months had treated upon the conditions of peace and were upon a near point of conclusion, were disappointed. at newbattle, the queen regent, with her council of the french faction, decreed war, without giving any intimation to the commissioners for scotland. such is the fidelity of princes, guided by priests, whenever they seek to serve their own affections. but the nobility of scotland, after consultation amongst themselves, went to the pavilion of monsieur d'oysel, and to his face declared that in nowise would they invade england. they commanded the ordnance to be retired; and this was done without further delay. this put an affray[ ] in monsieur d'oysel's breath, and kindled such a fire in the queen regent's stomach as was not well slockened until her breath failed. and thus was that enterprise frustrated, although war continued. [ ] terror; fright. [sidenote: the evangel begins to flourish in scotland.] during this period the evangel of jesus christ began wondrously to flourish. william harlaw began publicly to exhort in edinburgh; john douglas, who had been with the earl of argyll, preached in leith, and sometimes exhorted in edinburgh; paul methven began publicly to preach in dundee; and so did divers others in angus and mearns. and last, in god's good pleasure, john willock arrived the second time from embden; and his return was so joyful to the brethren that their zeal and godly courage daily increased. albeit he contracted a dangerous sickness, he did not cease from labour, but taught and exhorted from his bed. some of the nobility (of whom some are fallen back, among whom the lord seton is chief), with many barons and gentlemen, were his auditors. these were instructed in godliness by him, and wondrously comforted. they kept their conventions, and held councils with such gravity and closeness, that the enemies trembled. the images were stolen away in all parts of the country; and in edinburgh the great idol called saint giles was first drowned in the nor' loch, and then burned. this raised no small trouble in the town. [sidenote: images are stolen, and the prelates practise with the regent.] the friars rowping[ ] like ravens upon the bishops, the bishops ran to the queen. she was favourable enough to them, but she thought it could not be to her advantage to offend such a multitude as then took upon them the defence of the evangel and the name of protestants. yet she consented to summon the preachers; and the protestants, neither offended nor yet afraid, determined to keep the day of summons, as that they did. when the prelates and priests perceived this, they procured that there should be made a proclamation that all men that were come to the town without commandment of the authority, should with all diligence repair to the borders, and there remain fifteen days: for the bishop of galloway, in this manner of rhyme, said to the queen, "madam, because they are come without order, i red ye, send them to the border." [ ] crying hoarsely. now, god had so provided that the quarter of the westland, in which were many faithful men, were that same day returned from the border. understanding the matter to proceed from the malice of the priests, they assembled and made passage for themselves until they came to the very privy chamber, where the queen regent and the bishops were. the gentlemen began to complain of their strange entertainment, considering that her grace had found in them faithful obedience in all things lawful. when the queen began to craft, a zealous and a bold man, james chalmers of gadgirth, said, "madam, we know that this is the malice and device of these jefwellis,[ ] and of that bastard (meaning the archbishop of st. andrews) that stands by you. we avow to god we shall make a day of it. they oppress us and our tenants that they may feed their idle bellies: they trouble our preachers, and would murder them and us: shall we suffer this any longer? nay, madam: it shall not be." and therewith every man put on his steel bonnet. [ ] jail-birds. then was heard nothing on the queen's part but, "my joys, my hearts, what ails you? me means no evil to you nor to your preachers. the bishops shall do you no wrong. ye are all my loving subjects. me know nothing of this proclamation. the day of your preachers shall be discharged, and me will hear the controversy that is betwixt the bishops and you. they shall do you no wrong. my lords," said she to the bishops, "i forbid you either to trouble them or their preachers." and unto the gentlemen, who were wondrously moved, she turned again, and said, "o my hearts, should ye not love the lord your god with all your heart, with all your mind? and should ye not love your neighbours as yourselves?" with these and the like fair words, she kept the bishops from buffets at that time. [sidenote: the downcasting of saint giles's image, and discomfiture of baal's priests.] the day of summons being discharged, the brethren universally began to be further encouraged. but the bishops could not be quiet; and saint giles's day approaching, they gave charge to the provost, bailies, and council of edinburgh, either to get again the old saint giles, or else at their own expense to make a new image. the council answered that to them the charge appeared very unjust; for they understood that god in some places had commanded idols and images to be destroyed. where he had commanded images to be set up, they had not read; and they desired the bishop to find a warrant for his commandment. the bishop, offended, admonished them under pain of cursing; but they prevented[ ] this by a formal appellation, appealing from him, as from a partial and corrupt judge, unto the pope's holiness. greater things shortly following, that passed into oblivion. [ ] anticipated. yet the priests and friars would not cease to have that great solemnity and manifest abomination which they accustomably had upon saint giles's day. they would have that idol borne; and therefore all necessary preparation was duly made. a marmoset idol was borrowed from the grey friars, a silver piece of james carmichael being laid in pledge. it was fast fixed with iron nails upon a barrow, called their fertour.[ ] there assembled priests, friars, canons, and rotten papists, with tabors and trumpets, banners and bagpipes, and who was there to lead the ring, but the queen regent herself, with all her shavelings, for honour of that feast. west about it went, and came down the high street, and down to the canon cross. the queen regent dined that day in sandy carpetyne's house, betwixt the bows, and so, when the idol returned again, she left it, and went to her dinner. the hearts of the brethren were wondrously inflamed, and, seeing such abomination so manifestly maintained, were determined to be revenged. they were divided into several companies, of which not one knew of another. there were some temporisers that day (amongst whom david forrest, called the general, was one) who, fearing the chance would be taken to do as it befell, laboured to stay the brethren. but that could not be. [ ] coffer. immediately after the queen had entered the lodging, some of those that were in the enterprise drew nigh to the idol, as if willing to help to bear him, and getting the fertour upon their shoulders, began to shudder, thinking that thereby the idol should have fallen. but that was provided for and prevented by the iron nails, as we have said; and so one began to cry, "down with the idol; down with it;" and without delay it was pulled down. one took him by the heels and, dadding[ ] his head on the causeway, left dagon without head or hands, and cried, "fie upon thee, thou young saint giles, thy father would have tarried four such." the priest's patrons made some brag at the first; but when they saw the feebleness of their god, priests and friars fled faster than they did at pinkie cleuch. then might have been seen so sudden a fray as seldom has been amongst that sort of men within this realm. down went the crosses, off went the surplice, and the round caps cornered with the crowns.[ ] the grey friars gaped, the black friars blew, the priests panted and fled, and happy was he that first reached the house; such a sudden fray amongst the generation of antichrist within this realm never came before. by chance, there lay upon a stair a merry englishman, who, seeing that the discomfiture was without blood, thought he would add some merriness to the matter, and so cried he over the stair, and said, "fie upon you, why have ye broken order? down the street ye passed in array and with great mirth. why flee ye now, villains, without order? turn and strike everyone a stroke for the honour of his god. fie, cowards, fie, ye shall never be judged worthy of your wages again!" but exhortations were then unprofitable; for, after baal had broken his neck, there was no comfort to his confused army. [ ] knocking. [ ] priests jostled with friars. the queen regent laid this up amongst her other mementoes, until she might see the time proper to revenge it. search was made for the doers, but none could be apprehended; for the brethren assembled themselves in such sort, in companies, singing psalms and praising god, that the proudest of the enemies were astonished.... the most part of the lords that were in france at the queen's marriage, although they got their _congé_ from the court, yet forgot to return to scotland. for whether it was by an italian posset, or by french figs, or by the potage of their potinger, who was a frenchman, there departed from this life the earl of cassillis, the earl of rothes, lord fleming, and the bishop of orkney, whose end was even according to his life.... when word of the departing of so many patrons of the papistry, and of the manner of their departing, came to the queen regent, she said, after astonishment and musing, "what shall i say of such men? they lived as beasts, and as beasts they die: god is not with them, neither with that which they enterprise." [sidenote: the dean of restalrig, hypocrite, begins to preach.] while these things were happening in scotland and france, that perfect hypocrite, master john sinclair, then dean of restalrig, and now lord president and bishop of brechin, began to preach in his kirk of restalrig. at the beginning he kept himself so indifferent that many were of the opinion that he was not far from the kingdom of god. such as feared god had begun to have a good opinion of him, and the friars and others of that sect had begun to whisper that if he did not take heed to himself and to his doctrine he would be the destruction of the whole estate of the kirk. but his hypocrisy could not long be cloaked; for, when he learned of this change in public opinion, he promised a sermon, in which he should give his judgment upon all such heads as were then in controversy in the matters of religion. the bruit hereof secured him a great audience at the first; but he so handled himself that day that no godly man did credit him after that. not only gainsaid he the doctrine of justification and of prayer, which before he had taught, but he also set up and maintained the papistry to the uttermost prick; yea, holy water, pilgrimage, purgatory, and pardons were of such virtue in his conceit that he looked not to be saved without them. in the meantime, the clergy made a brag that they would dispute. but master david panter, who then lived and lay at restalrig, dissuaded them therefrom, affirming that if ever they disputed--except where they themselves were both judge and party, and where fire and sword should obey their decree--their cause was wrecked for ever. their victory, he said, stood neither in god nor in his word, but in their own wills, and in the things concluded by their own councils, together with sword and fire, "and thereto," said he, "these new start-up fellows will give no place. they will call you to your account book, the bible; and by it ye will no more be found the men that ye are called, than the devil will be proven to be god. and therefore, if ye love yourselves, never enter into disputation; nor yet call ye the matter in question; but defend your possession, or else all is lost." caiaphas could not give a better counsel to his companions; but god disappointed both them and him, as we shall hear afterwards. [sidenote: the recall of john knox.] at this same time, some of the nobility directed letters to call john knox from geneva, for their comfort, and for the comfort of their brethren the preachers and others that then courageously fought against the enemies of god's truth.... these letters were delivered to the said john in geneva, in the month of may immediately thereafter. upon their receipt, he took consultation with his own church as well as with that notable servant of god, john calvin, and with other godly ministers. all, with one consent, said that he could not refuse that vocation, unless he would declare himself rebellious unto his god, and unmerciful to his country. and so he returned answer, with promise to visit scotland with reasonable expedition, as soon as he might make arrangements for the dear flock that was committed to his charge. in the end of the following september, he departed from geneva, and came to dieppe, where there met him contrary letters; as by this his answer thereto we may understand. "_the spirit of wisdom, constancy, and strength be multiplied with you, by the favour of god our father, and by the grace of our lord jesus christ._ "according to my promise, right honourable, i came to dieppe on the twenty-third of october, of full mind, by the good will of god, with the first ships to have visited you. but because two letters, not very pleasing to the flesh, were there presented unto me, i was compelled to stay for a time. the one was directed to myself from a faithful brother, who made mention that new consultation was appointed for final conclusion of the matter before purposed, and desired me therefore to abide in these parts until the determination of the same. the other letter was direct from a gentleman to a friend, with charge to inform me that he had communed with all those that seemed most frack and fervent in the matter, and that in none did he find such boldness and constancy as was requisite for such an enterprise; but that some did, as he writeth, repent that ever any such thing was moved; some were partly ashamed; and others were able to deny that ever they did consent to any such purpose, if any trial or question should be taken thereof, etc. which letters, when i had considered, i partly was confounded, and partly was pierced with anguish and sorrow. confounded i was, that i had so far travelled in the matter, moving the same to the most godly and the most learned that this day we know to live in europe, to the effect that i might have their judgments and grave counsels, for assurance as well of your consciences as of mine, in all enterprises. that nothing should succeed so long consultation, cannot but redound either to your shame or mine; for either it shall appear that i was marvellously vain, being so solicitous where no necessity required, or else that such as were my movers thereto lacked the ripeness of judgment in their first vocation.... the cause of my dolour and sorrow, god is witness, is for nothing pertaining either to my corporal contentment or worldly displeasure; but it is for the grievous plagues and punishments of god, which assuredly shall apprehend not only you, but every inhabitant of that miserable realm and isle, except that the power of god, by the liberty of his evangel, deliver you from bondage.... if any persuade you, for fear of dangers that may follow, to faint in your former purpose, be he never esteemed so wise and friendly, let him be judged by you both foolish and your mortal enemy: foolish, because he understandeth nothing of god's approved wisdom; and enemy unto you, because he laboureth to separate you from god's favour; provoking his vengeance and grievous plagues against you, because he would that ye should prefer your worldly rest to god's praise and glory, and the friendship of the wicked to the salvation of your brethren. i am not ignorant that fearful troubles shall ensue your enterprise, as in my former letters i did signify unto you; but o joyful and comfortable are those troubles and adversities which man sustaineth for accomplishment of god's will, revealed by his word! for, however terrible they appear to the judgment of the natural man, yet are they never able to devour nor utterly to consume the sufferers. for the invisible and invincible power of god sustaineth and preserveth, according to his promise, all such as with simplicity do obey him.... your subjects, yea your brethren are oppressed, their bodies and souls are held in bondage: and god speaketh to your consciences, unless ye be dead with the blind world, that you ought to hazard your own lives, be it against kings or emperors, for their deliverance; for only for that cause are ye called princes of the people, and ye receive of your brethren honour, tribute, and homage, at god's commandment; not by reason of your birth and progeny, as the most part of men falsely do suppose, but by reason of your office and duty, which is to vindicate and deliver your subjects and brethren from all violence and oppression, to the utmost of your power...." [sidenote: the lords of the congregation make a covenant.] new consultation was taken as to what was best to be done: and in the end it was concluded that they would follow out their original purpose, and commit themselves and whatsoever god had given unto them into his hands, rather than suffer idolatry so manifestly to reign, and the subjects of that realm, as long they had been, to be defrauded of the only food of their souls, the true preaching of christ's evangel. and that every one should be the more assured of the other, a common bond was made and by some subscribed. the tenor thereof was as follows:-- "we, perceiving how satan in his members, the antichrists of our time, cruelly doth rage, seeking to down-thring[ ] and to destroy the evangel of christ and his congregation, ought, according to our bounden duty, to strive in our master's cause, even unto the death, being certain of the victory in him. the which our duty being well considered, we do promise before the majesty of god, and his congregation, that we, by his grace, shall with all diligence continually apply our whole power, substance, and our very lives to maintain, set forward, and establish the most blessed word of god and his congregation; and shall labour at our possibility to have faithful ministers purely and truly to minister christ's evangel and sacraments to his people. we shall maintain them, nourish them, and defend them, the whole congregation of christ, and every member thereof, at our whole power and wearing of our lives, against satan, and all wicked power that does intend tyranny or trouble against the foresaid congregation. unto the which holy word and congregation we do join us, and we do forsake and renounce the congregation of satan, with all the superstitious abomination and idolatry thereof: and moreover, we shall declare ourselves manifestly enemies thereto, by this our faithful promise before god, testified to his congregation by our subscription of these presents:--at edinburgh, the third day of december, the year of god : god called to witness. "a. erle of ergyle. "glencarne. "morton. "archibald lord of lorne. "johnne erskyne of doun." _et cetera._ [ ] overthrow. [sidenote: the first heads for the government of the reformed kirk.] immediately after the subscription of this foresaid bond, the lords and barons professing christ jesus convened frequently in counsel; when these heads were concluded:-- first, it is thought expedient, devised, and ordained, that in all parishes of this realm the common prayers be read, weekly on sunday, and on the other festival days, publicly in the parish kirks, with the lessons of the new and old testament, conform to the order of the book of common prayers: and, if the curates of the parishes be qualified, to cause them to read the same; and, if they be not, or if they refuse, that the most qualified in the parish use and read the same. secondly, it is thought necessary that doctrine, preaching, and interpretation of scriptures be had and used privately in quiet houses, without great conventions of the people thereto, until afterwards god move the prince to grant public preaching by faithful and true ministers. [sidenote: the earl of argyll promotes the cause of the reformed kirk.] these two heads concerning the religion and some others concerning the policy being concluded, the old earl of argyll, took the maintenance of john douglas, caused him to preach publicly in his house, and reformed many things according to his counsel. divers others took the same boldness within towns as well as to landward; and this did not a little trouble the bishops and queen regent.... shortly after this, god in his mercy called the said earl of argyll from the miseries of this life. the bishops were glad; for they thought that their great enemy was taken out of the way; but god disappointed them. for the said earl departed most firmly adhering to the true faith of jesus christ, with a plain renunciation of all impiety, superstition, and idolatry; and in his testament he directed his son to study to set forward the public and true preaching of the evangel of jesus christ, and to suppress all superstition and idolatry, to the uttermost of his power. [sidenote: the bishops make a feeble show of reformation.] the bishops continued in their provincial council. that they might give some show to the people that they proponed reformation, they spread abroad a rumour of this, and published a printed manifesto, which the people dubbed "the twa-penny faith." amongst the acts of the council, there was much ado ( ) for caps, shaven crowns, tippets, long gowns, and such other trifles: ( ) that none should enjoy office or benefice ecclesiastical, except a priest: ( ) that no kirk-man should nourish his own bairns in his own company; but that every one should hold the children of others: ( ) that none should put his own son in his own benefice: ( ) that, if any were found in open adultery, for the first fault, he should lose the third of his benefice; for the second crime, the half; and for the third, the whole benefice. the bishop of moray, and other prelates, appealed against these acts, saying that they would abide by the canon law. and this might they well enough do, so long as they remained interpreters, dispensers, makers, and disannullers of that law.... [sidenote: the regent practises for grant of the crown-matrimonial to the king of france.] persecution was decreed by the queen regent and the prelates. but there remained a point which the queen regent and france had not at that time obtained from the scots parliament. it was desired that the crown-matrimonial should be granted to francis, husband to our sovereign, so that france and scotland should be one kingdom, the subjects of both realms having equal liberty, scotsmen in france, and frenchmen in scotland. the glister[ ] of the profit that was supposed to have ensued to scotsmen blinded many men's eyes at the first sight. but a small wind caused that most suddenly to vanish away; for the greatest offices and benefices within the realm were given to frenchmen. monsieur de ruby kept the great seal. villemore was comptroller. melrose and kelso were to be a commend[ ] to the poor cardinal of lorraine. on the other hand, the freedoms of scottish merchants were restrained in rouen, and they were compelled to pay toll and taxations other than their ancient liberties did bear. [ ] lustre. [ ] an ecclesiastical benefice committed to a temporary holder. to get the matrimonial crown, the queen regent left no point of the compass unsailed. with the bishops and priests she practised in this manner. "ye may clearly see that i cannot do what i would within this realm; for these heretics and confederates of england are so bound together, that they stop all good order. but, if ye be favourable unto me in this suit of the matrimonial crown to be granted to my daughter's husband, ye shall see how i shall handle these heretics and traitors before long." and truly, in these promises she meant no deceit in this respect. to the protestants she said, "i am not unmindful how often ye have suited me for reformation in religion, and gladly would i consent thereunto; but ye see that the power and craft of the archbishop of st. andrews, together with the power of the duke, and of the kirkmen, are ever bent against me in all my proceedings. so that i can do nothing, unless the full authority of this realm be devolved to the king of france, and this cannot be except by donation of the crown-matrimonial. if ye will bring this to pass, then devise ye what ye please in matters of religion, and they shall be granted." [sidenote: the parliament of october : the crown-matrimonial is granted.] lord james stewart, then prior of st. andrews, was directed to the earl of argyll, with this commission and credit, and more promises than we list to rehearse. by dissimulation to those that were simple and true of heart, she inflamed them to be more fervent in her petition than she herself appeared to be. and so, at the parliament held at edinburgh in the month of october, the year of god , the crown-matrimonial was clearly voted. no man protested (except the duke for his interest), and yet for this proceeding there was no better law produced than that in the pontifical there was a solemn mass appointed for such a purpose. book second.[ ] - . [ ] _the second book of the history of things done in scotland, in the reformation of religion, beginning in the year of god ._ [sidenote: the preface to the second book.[ ]] [ ] the "history" originally commenced at this point. the second book was begun in : the scope of the work was enlarged about , when the first and fourth books were added. the reader will note that, in point of date, the narrative at the opening of the second book overlaps that at the close of book first.--ed. lest satan shall take occasion of our long silence to blaspheme, and to slander us the protestants of the realm of scotland by suggesting that our actions tended rather to sedition and rebellion than to reformation of manners and abuses in religion; we have thought it expedient, as truly and briefly as we can, to commit to writing the causes moving us, a great part of the nobility and barons of the realm, to take the sword of just defence against those that most unjustly have sought our destruction. in this our confession we shall faithfully declare what moved us to take action, what we have asked, and what we require of the sacred authority. our cause being thus made known, our enemies as well as our brethren in all realms may understand how falsely we are accused of tumult and rebellion, and how unjustly we are persecuted by france and by their faction. thus, too, our brethren, natural scotsmen, of whatever religion they be, may have occasion to examine themselves as to whether they may with safe conscience oppose themselves to us. we only seek that the glorious evangel of christ jesus may be preached, his holy sacraments be truly ministered, superstition, tyranny, and idolatry be suppressed in this realm, and the liberty of this our native country remain free from the bondage and tyranny of strangers. [sidenote: the consciences of judges, lords, and rulers are awakened.] while the queen regent practised with the prelates, how the blessed evangel of christ jesus might be utterly suppressed within scotland, god so blessed the labours of his weak servants that no small part of the barons of this realm began to abhor the tyranny of the bishops. god did so open their eyes by the light of his word, that they could clearly discern betwixt idolatry and the true honouring of god. yea, men almost universally began to doubt whether they might give their bodily presence to the mass without offending god, or offer their children for papistical baptism. when the most godly and the most learned in europe had answered these doubts, both by word and writing, affirming that we might do neither, without extreme peril to our souls, we began to be more troubled. then also, men of estimation, who bore rule amongst us, began to examine themselves concerning their duties towards reformation of religion, as well as towards the just defence of their most cruelly persecuted brethren. and so divers questions began to be moved, to wit, whether such as were judges, lords, and rulers of the people might, with safe conscience, serve the superior powers in maintaining idolatry, in persecuting their brethren, and in suppressing christ's truth? or, whether they, to whom god had in some cases committed the administration of justice, might suffer the blood of their brethren to be shed in their presence, without any declaration that such tyranny displeased them? by the plain scripture it was found that a lively faith required a plain confession, when christ's truth was attacked; that not only are they guilty that do evil, but so also are they that assent to evil. it is plain that they that assent to evil, seeing iniquity openly committed, do by their silence seem to justify and allow what is done. these things being sufficiently proven by evident scriptures of god, every man began to look more diligently to his salvation; for the idolatry and tyranny of the clergy, called the churchmen, was and is so manifest, that whoever doth deny it declares himself ignorant of god, and enemy to christ jesus. we therefore, with humble confession of our former offences, began, with fasting and supplication unto god, to seek some remedy in so present a danger. at the outset it was decided that the brethren in every town should at certain times assemble together for common prayers, and for exercise and reading of the scriptures, until it should please god to give the sermon of exhortation to some, for comfort and instruction of the rest. [sidenote: the office of elder is instituted, and the privy kirk is founded.] god did so bless our weak beginning that, within a few months, the hearts of many were so strengthened that we sought to have the face of a church amongst us, and to have open crimes punished, without respect of person. for that purpose, by common election, elders were appointed. to them the whole brethren promised obedience; for at that time we had no public ministers of the word; but certain zealous men, amongst whom were the laird of dun, david forrest, master robert lockhart, master robert hamilton, william harlaw, and others, exhorted their brethren, according to the gifts and graces granted unto them. shortly after did god stir up his servant, paul methven (whose latter fall ought not to deface the work of god in him), and he in boldness of spirit began openly to preach christ jesus in dundee, in divers parts of angus, and in fife. god did so work with him that many began openly to renounce their old idolatry, and to submit themselves to christ jesus, and unto his blessed ordinances. in consequence, the town of dundee began to erect the face of a public church reformed, and in this the word was openly preached, and christ's sacraments were truly ministered. [sidenote: john willock preaches: formal steps towards a public reformation are taken.] in the meantime god did send to us our dear brother, john willock, a man godly, learned, and grave, who, after short abode at dundee, repaired to edinburgh. there, notwithstanding his long and dangerous sickness, he so encouraged the brethren by godly exhortations, that we began to deliberate upon some public reformation; for the corruption in religion was such that, with safe conscience, we could no longer sustain it. yet, because we would attempt nothing without the knowledge of the sacred authority, with one consent, after the deliberation of many days, it was concluded that by our public and common supplication we should attempt to secure the favour, support, and assistance of the queen, then regent, towards a godly reformation. for that purpose, after we had prepared our oration and petitions, we appointed from amongst us a man whose age and years deserved reverence, whose honesty and worship might have craved audience of any magistrate on earth, and whose faithful service to the authority at all times had been such that on him could fall no suspicion of unlawful disobedience. this orator was that ancient and honourable father, sir james sandilands of calder, knight, to whom we gave commission and power in all our names then present, before the queen regent thus to speak:-- [sidenote: the first oration and petition of the protestants of scotland to the queen regent.] "albeit we have of long time contained ourselves in such modesty, most noble princess, that neither the exile of body, tinsel[ ] of goods, nor perishing of this mortal life, was able to convene us to ask from your grace reformation and redress of those wrongs and of that sore grief patiently borne by us in bodies and minds for so long a time; yet are we now, of very conscience and by the fear of our god, compelled to crave, at your grace's feet, remedy against the most unjust tyranny used against your grace's most obedient subjects, by those that are called the estate ecclesiastical. your grace cannot be ignorant what controversy hath been, and yet is, concerning the true religion, and the right worshipping of god, and how the clergy, as they desire to be termed, usurp to themselves such empire above the consciences of men that whatsoever they command must be obeyed, and whatsoever they forbid must be avoided, without further respect to god's pleasure, commandment, or will, revealed to us in his most holy word; or else there abideth nothing for us but faggot, fire, and sword. by these means, many of our brethren have been stricken most cruelly and most unjustly of late years within this realm. this now we find to trouble and wound our consciences; for we acknowledge it to have been our bounden duty before god, either to have defended our brethren from those cruel murderers, seeing we are a part of that power which god hath established in this realm, or else to have given with them open testification of our faith. now we ourselves offer to do this, lest we shall seem to justify their cruel tyranny by our continual silence. [ ] loss. "this condition of affairs doth not only displease us, but as your grace's wisdom most prudently doth foresee, for the quieting of this intestine dissension, a public reformation, in religion as well as in temporal government was most necessary. to this task, as we are informed, ye have most gravely and most godly exhorted as well the clergy as the nobility, to employ their study, diligence, and care. we, therefore, of conscience, dare no longer dissemble in so weighty a matter which concerneth the glory of god and our salvation. neither now dare we withdraw our presence, or conceal our petitions, lest the adversaries hereafter shall object to us that place was granted to reformation, and yet no man suited for the same; and so should our silence be prejudicial unto us in time to come. therefore, knowing no other order placed in this realm, but your grace, in your grave council, set to amend, as well the disorder ecclesiastical, as the defaults in the temporal regiment, we most humbly prostrate ourselves before your feet, asking your justice, and your gracious help, against them that falsely traduce and accuse us, as if we were heretics and schismatics. under that colour they seek our destruction; because we seek the amendment of their corrupted lives, and that christ's religion be restored to its original purity. further, we crave of your grace to hear, with open and patient ears, these our subsequent requests; and, to the joy and satisfaction of our troubled consciences, mercifully to grant the same, unless by god's plain word any be able to prove that justly they ought to be denied. "first, humbly we ask that, as we have, by the laws of this realm, after long debate, obtained to read the holy books of the old and new testaments in our common tongue, as spiritual food to our souls, so from henceforth it may be lawful that we may convene publicly or privately to our common prayers, in our vulgar tongue; to the end that we may increase and grow in knowledge, and be induced, in fervent and oft prayer, to commend to god the holy church universal, the queen our sovereign, her honourable and gracious husband, the stability of their succession, your grace regent, the nobility, and the whole estate of this realm. "secondly, if it shall happen in our said conventions that any hard place of scripture be read, from which no profit ariseth to the conveners, we ask that it shall be lawful to any person qualified in knowledge, being present, to interpret and open up the said hard places, to god's glory and to the profit of the hearers. if any think that this liberty would be occasion of confusion, debate, or heresy, we are content that it be provided that the said interpretation shall underlie the judgment of the most godly and most learned within the realm at this time. "thirdly, we seek that the holy sacrament of baptism may be used in the vulgar tongue; so that the godfathers and witnesses may not only understand the points of the league and contract made betwixt god and the infant, but also that the church then assembled may be more gravely informed and instructed of the duties which at all times they owe to god, according to the promise made unto him, when they were received into his household by the lavachre[ ] of spiritual regeneration. [ ] washing. "fourthly, we desire that the holy sacrament of the lord's supper, or of his most blessed body and blood, may likewise be ministered unto us in the vulgar tongue; and in both kinds, according to the plain institution of our saviour christ jesus. "lastly, we most humbly require that the wicked, slanderous, and detestable life of prelates, and of the estate ecclesiastical may be so reformed, that the people may not have occasion (as for many days they have had) to contemn their ministers, and the preaching whereof they should be messengers. if they suspect that we, envying their honours or coveting their riches and possessions rather than zealously desiring their amendment and salvation, do travail and labour for this reformation; we are content not only that the rules and precepts of the new testament, but also the writings of the ancient fathers, and the godly approved laws of justinian the emperor, decide the controversy between us and them. and if it shall be found that either malevolently or ignorantly we ask more than these three forenamed have required and continually do require of able and true ministers in christ's church, we refuse not correction, as your grace, with right judgment, shall think meet. but if all the forenamed shall damn that which we damn and approve that which we require, then we most earnestly beseech your grace that, notwithstanding the long consuetude which they have had to live as they list, they be compelled either to desist from ecclesiastical administration, or to discharge their duties as becometh true ministers; so that, the grave and godly face of the primitive church reduced,[ ] ignorance may be expelled and true doctrine and good manners may once again appear in the church of this realm. [ ] brought back. "these things we, as most obedient subjects, require of your grace, in the name of the eternal god and of his son christ jesus, in presence of whose throne judicial, ye and all other that here on earth bear authority shall give account of your temporal regiment. the spirit of the lord jesus move your grace's heart to justice and equity. amen." [sidenote: the papists brag of disputation: the articles of reconciliation.] when these petitions were presented, the estate ecclesiastical began to storm and to devise all manner of lies to deface the equity of our cause. they bragged that they would have public disputation. this we most earnestly asked them to arrange, upon two conditions: the one, that the plain and written scriptures of god should decide all controversy; the other, that our brethren, of whom some were then exiled and by them unjustly condemned, might have free access to the said disputation, and safe conduct to return to their dwelling places, notwithstanding any process which before had been led against them in matters concerning religion. but these preliminary conditions were utterly denied. no judge would they admit but themselves, their councils, and canon law. they and their faction began to draw up certain articles of reconciliation. these stipulated that we should permit the mass to remain in reverence and estimation, grant purgatory after this life, confess prayer to saints and for the dead, and suffer them to enjoy their accustomed rents, possession, and honour. upon these terms, they were prepared to grant us freedom to pray and baptize in the vulgar tongue, if this were done secretly, and not in the open assembly. the grossness of these articles was such, that with one voice we refused them; and continued to crave justice from the queen regent, and a reasonable answer to our former petitions. the queen regent, a woman crafty, dissimulate, and false, thinking to make profit of both parties, gave us permission to conduct ourselves in godly manner, according to our desires, provided that we should not make public assemblies in edinburgh or leith; and she promised her assistance to our preachers, until some uniform order might be established by a parliament. to the clergy, she quietly gave signification of her mind, promising that, as soon as opportunity should serve, she should so arrange matters for them that they should have no more trouble. some say that they gave her a large purse,-- , pounds, says the chronicle gathered by sir william bruce, the laird of earlshall. unsuspecting of her doubleness and falsehood, we were fully contented with her answer; and did use ourselves so quietly that, for her pleasure, we put silence to john douglas. he would have preached publicly in the town of leith; but in all things we sought the contentment of her mind, so far as we should not offend god by obeying her in things unlawful. [sidenote: persecution at st. andrews: walter myln is burned.] shortly after these things, that cruel tyrant and unmerciful hypocrite, falsely called archbishop of st. andrews, apprehended that blessed martyr of christ jesus, walter myln; a man of decrepit age, whom most cruelly and most unjustly he put to death by fire in st. andrews, the twenty-eighth day of april, the year of god . this did highly offend the hearts of all godly, and immediately after his death a new fervency arose amongst the whole people; yea, even in the town of st. andrews, the people began plainly to damn such unjust cruelty. in testification that the death of walter myln would abide in recent memory, there was cast together a great heap of stones at the place where he was burned. the archbishop and the priests, offended, caused this to be removed once or twice, with denunciation, by cursing, of any man who should there lay a stone. but their breath was spent in vain; for the heap was always renewed, until the priests and papists did by night steal away the stones to build their walls, and for other their private uses. having no suspicion that the queen regent approved of the murder of walter myln, we did most humbly complain of this unjust cruelty, requiring that justice in such cases should be administered with greater indifference.[ ] a woman born to dissemble and deceive, she began to lament to us the cruelty of the archbishop, excusing herself as innocent. she declared that sentence had been given without her knowledge, because the man had been a priest at one time; and the archbishop's officer had prosecuted him without any commission from the civil authority, _ex officio_, as they term it. [ ] impartiality. [sidenote: the protestants appeal to parliament.] still unsuspicious, we required some order to be taken against such enormities; and this she promised, as she had often done before. but because a parliament was to be held shortly after, for certain affairs pertaining rather to the queen's particular profit than to the commodity of the commonwealth, we thought good to expose our matter unto the whole parliament, and from them to seek some redress. therefore, with one consent, we did offer to the queen and parliament a letter in this tenor:-- "unto your grace, and unto you, right honourable lords of this present parliament, humbly mean and show your grace's faithful and obedient subjects: that we are daily molested, slandered, and injured by wicked and ignorant persons, place-holders of the ministers of the church, who most untruly cease not to infame us as heretics, and under that name most cruelly have persecuted divers of our brethren, and further intend to execute their malice against us, unless by some godly order their fury and rage be bridled and stayed. yet in us they are able to prove no crime worthy of punishment, unless it be that to read the holy scriptures in our assemblies, to invocate the name of god in public prayers, with all sobriety to interpret and open the places of scripture that be read, to the further edification of the brethren assembled, and truly according to the holy institution of christ jesus to minister the sacraments, are crimes worthy of punishment. of other crimes they are not able to convict us.... most humbly require we of your grace, and of your right honourable lords, barons, and burgesses assembled in this present parliament, prudently to weigh, and, as becometh just judges, to grant these our most just and reasonable petitions:-- "firstly, ... we most humbly desire that all such acts of parliament, as in the time of darkness gave power to the churchmen to execute their tyranny against us, by reason that we were delated heretics, may be suspended and abrogated until a general council, lawfully assembled, shall have decided all controversies in religion. "secondly, lest this mutation should seem to set all men at liberty to live as they list, we require that it be enacted by this present parliament that the prelates and their officers be removed from the place of judgment; granting unto them, not the less, the place of accusers in the presence of a temporal judge, before whom the churchmen shall be bound to call any accused by them of heresy.... "thirdly, we require, that all lawful defences be granted to the persons accused.... also, that place be granted to the party accused to explain and interpret his own mind and meaning; which confession we require to be inserted in public acts, and to be preferred to the depositions of any witnesses, seeing that none that is not found obstinate in his damnable opinion ought to suffer for religion. "lastly, we require, that our brethren be not damned for heretics, unless, by the manifest word of god, they be convicted to have erred from that faith which the holy spirit witnesseth to be necessary to salvation.... "these things require we to be considered by you, who occupy the place of the eternal god, who is god of order and truth, even in such sort as ye will answer in the presence of his throne judicial. and we require, further, that ye will favourably have respect to the tenderness of our consciences, and to the trouble which apparently will follow in this commonwealth, if the tyranny of the prelates and of their adherents be not bridled by god and just laws. god move your hearts deeply to consider your own duties and our present troubles." [sidenote: the regent makes large promises of protection and reform.] these petitions did we first present to the queen regent, because we were determined to enterprise nothing without her knowledge, most humbly requiring her favourable assistance in our just action. she spared not amiable looks, and good words in abundance; but she kept our bill in her pocket. when we required secretly of her grace that our petitions should be proposed to the whole assembly, she answered that she did not think that expedient; for then would the whole ecclesiastical estate be contrary to her proceedings. these at that time were great; for the matrimonial crown was asked, and in that parliament granted. "but," said she, "as soon as order can be taken with these things, which now may be hindered by the kirkmen, ye shall know my good mind; and, in the meantime, whatsoever i may grant unto you shall gladly be granted." still suspecting nothing of her falsehood, we were content to give place for a time to her pleasure and pretended reason. yet we thought expedient to protest somewhat before the dissolution of parliament; for our petitions were manifestly known to the whole assembly, as also that, for the queen's pleasure, we ceased to pursue the uttermost.... our protestations were publicly read, and we desired that they should be inserted in the common register; but by labours of enemies that was denied unto us. nevertheless, the queen regent said, "me will remember what is protested; and me shall put good order after this to all things that now be in controversy." thus, after she had by craft obtained her purpose, we departed in good hope of her favours, praising god in our hearts that she was so well inclined towards godliness. the good opinion that we had of her sincerity caused us not only to spend our goods and hazard our bodies at her pleasure, but also, by our public letters written to that excellent servant of god, john calvin, we did praise and commend her for excellent knowledge in god's word and her good-will towards the advancement of his glory; requiring of him that, by his grave counsel and godly exhortation, he would animate her grace constantly to follow that which in godly fashion she had begun. we did further sharply rebuke, both by word and writing, all such as appeared to suspect any venom of hypocrisy in her, or were contrary to that opinion which we had conceived of her godly mind. [sidenote: treachery of the regent: the preachers are summoned.] suddenly, it became certain that we were deceived in our opinion, and abused by her craft. as soon as all things pertaining to the commodity of france were granted by us, and peace was contracted betwixt king philip and france, and england and us, she began to spue forth, and disclose the latent venom of her double heart. she began to frown, and to look frowardly upon all such as she knew to favour the evangel of jesus christ. she commanded her household to use all abominations at easter; and she herself, to give example to others, did communicate with that idol, the mass, in open audience; she controlled her household, and would know where every one received the sacrament. it is supposed that after that day the devil took more violent and strong possession in her than he had before; for, from that day forward, she appeared altogether altered, insomuch that her countenance and acts did declare the venom of her heart. when, incontinently, the queen caused our preachers to be summoned, we made intercession for them, beseeching her grace not to molest them then in their ministry, unless any man were able to convict them of false doctrine. but she could not bridle her tongue from open blasphemy, and proudly said, "in despite of you and of your ministers both, they shall be banished out of scotland, albeit they preached as truly as ever did st. paul." this proud and blasphemous answer did greatly astonish us; and yet ceased we not most humbly to seek her favour, and by great diligence at last secured that the summonses should be delayed. alexander, earl of glencairn, and sir hugh campbell of loudoun, knight, sheriff of ayr, were sent to reason with her, and to crave some performance of her manifold promises. to them she answered that it became not the subjects to burden their princes with promises, further than it pleaseth them to keep these. both these noblemen faithfully and boldly discharged their duty, and plainly forewarned her of the inconveniences that were to follow. thereupon, somewhat astonished, she said she would advise. [sidenote: the revival at perth: fury of the regent.] in the meantime the town of perth, called st. johnston, embraced the truth, and this did provoke her to a new fury; in which she urged the lord ruthven, provost of that town, to suppress all such religion there. he replied that he could make their bodies come to her grace, and prostrate themselves before her, until she was fully satiate of their blood, but that he could not promise to force them to act against their conscience. in a fury, she said that he was too malapert to give her such answer, and affirmed that both he and they should repent it. she solicited master john haliburton, provost of dundee, to apprehend paul methven, but he, fearing god, gave secret warning to the man to leave the town for a time. at easter, she sent forth men whom she thought most able to persuade, with commission to induce montrose, dundee, st. johnston, and such other places as had received the evangel, to communicate with the idol of the mass; but they had no success. the hearts of many were bent to follow the truth revealed, and did abhor superstition and idolatry. more angry than ever, she again summoned all the preachers to appear at stirling, on the tenth day of may . with all humble obedience, we sought means to appease her, and save our preachers from being molested. when it was seen that we could not prevail, the whole brethren agreed that the gentlemen of every county should accompany their preachers on the day appointed. all men were most willing; and for that purpose the town of dundee, and the gentlemen of angus and mearns, proceeded with their preachers to perth, without armour, as peaceable men, desiring only to give confession with their preachers. lest such a multitude should raise the apprehensions of the queen regent, the laird of dun, a zealous, prudent, and godly man, went before to the queen, who was then in stirling. to her he declared that the cause of their convocation was only to give confession with their preachers, and to assist them in their just defence. she, understanding the fervency of the people, began to craft with him, soliciting him to stay the multitude, and also the preachers, promising that she would make some better arrangements. he, a man most gentle of nature, and most willing to please her in all things not repugnant to god, wrote requesting those that then were assembled at perth to stay, and not to come forward, and informed them of the queen's promise and the hope he had of her favour.... so did the whole multitude tarry at perth with their preachers. [sidenote: john knox returns from france, and joins the protestants at perth.] in the meantime, on the second of may , john knox arrived from france. lodging two nights only in edinburgh, and hearing the day appointed to his brethren, he repaired to dundee. there he earnestly required that he might be permitted to assist his brethren, and to give confession of his faith with them. this granted to him, he departed to perth with them; and there he began to exhort, according to the grace of god granted to him. the queen, perceiving that the preachers did not obey her summons, began to utter her malice; and, notwithstanding any request made to the contrary, gave commandment to put them to the horn,[ ] inhibiting all men under pain of rebellion to assist, comfort, receive or maintain them in any way. when this extremity was perceived by the laird of dun, he prudently withdrew himself; for otherwise, by all appearance, he would not have escaped imprisonment. in this belief he was justified by the fact that the master of maxwell, a man zealous and stout in god's cause, as it then appeared, was, under the cloak of another small crime, that same day put under arrest, because he did boldly affirm that, to the uttermost of his power, he would assist the preachers and the congregation, notwithstanding any sentence which was, or should be, unjustly pronounced against them. the laird of dun, coming to perth, expounded the case, and concealed nothing of the queen's craft and falsehood. [ ] formal process of outlawry. [sidenote: the mob wreck the churches and destroy the monasteries in perth.] the multitude, when they understood the queen's treachery, were so inflamed that neither could the exhortation of the preachers nor the commandment of the magistrate stay them from destroying the places of idolatry. what happened was as follows. the preachers had declared how odious was idolatry in god's presence; what commandment he had given for the destruction of the monuments thereof; and what idolatry and what abomination was in the mass. it chanced that the next day, the eleventh of may, after the sermon which had been vehement against idolatry, a priest in contempt insisted upon going to the mass; and, to declare his malapert presumption, he opened up a glorious tabernacle which stood upon the high altar. certain godly men were present, and amongst others a young boy, who cried with a loud voice, "it is intolerable that, when god by his word hath plainly damned idolatry, we shall stand and see it used in despite." the priest, offended, gave the child a great blow; who in anger took up a stone, and casting it at the priest, did hit the tabernacle and broke down an image. immediately the whole multitude cast stones, and laid hands on the said tabernacle, and on all other monuments of idolatry. these they dispatched before the tenth part of the town's people were made aware, for the most part were gone to dinner. these deeds noised abroad, the whole multitude came together, not the gentlemen or those that were earnest professors, but the rascal multitude. finding nothing to do in that church, these ran without deliberation to the grey and black friars, and, notwithstanding that these monasteries had within them very strong guards for their defence, their gates were forthwith burst open. idolatry was the occasion of the first outburst, but thereafter the common people began to look for spoil. in very deed, the grey friars was so well provided that unless honest men had seen it, we would have feared to report what provision they had. their sheets, blankets, beds, and coverlets were such that no earl in scotland had better; their napery was fine. there were but eight persons in the convent, and yet there were found eight puncheons of salt beef (consider the time of the year, the eleventh day of may), wine, beer, and ale, besides store of victuals of the same sort. a like abundance was not found in the monastery of the black friars; and yet there was more than became men professing poverty. the poor were permitted to take the spoil; but no honest man was enriched by the value of a groat. for the preachers had before threatened all men, that for covetousness' sake none should put their hand to such a reformation. the conscience of the spoilers did so move them, that they suffered those hypocrites to take away what they could. the prior of charter-house was permitted to take away with him as much gold and silver as he was well able to carry. so had men's consciences before been beaten with the word, that they had no respect to their own particular profit, but only to abolish idolatry, and the places and monuments thereof. in this they were so busy and so laborious that, within two days, these three great places, monuments of idolatry, to wit, the monasteries of the grey and black thieves and that of the charter-house monks (a building of a wondrous cost and greatness) were so destroyed that only the walls remained. when the queen heard what had happened, she was so enraged that she vowed utterly to destroy perth, man, woman, and child, to consume the place by fire, and thereafter to salt it, in sign of a perpetual desolation. suspecting nothing of such beastly cruelty, but thinking that such words might escape her in choler without forethought, because she was a woman set afire by the complaints of those hypocrites who flocked unto her as ravens to carrion, we returned to our own houses, leaving john knox in perth to instruct the people, because they were young and rude in christ. but she continued in her rage, set afire partly by her own malice, partly by commandment of her friends in france, and not a little by the bribes which she and monsieur d'oysel received from the bishops and the priests here at home. [sidenote: the queen rages and stirs up the nobility.] the queen first sent for all the nobility, and to them she complained that we meant nothing but a rebellion. she did grievously aggreage[ ] the destruction of the charter-house, because it was a king's foundation, and contained the tomb of king james the first. by these and other persuasions, she made the majority of them consent to attack us. and then in haste she sent for her frenchmen; for it was ever her joy to see scotsmen dipped in one another's blood. no man was at that time more frack against us than was the duke, led on by that cruel beast, the archbishop of st. andrews, and by those that yet abuse him, the abbot of kilwinning and matthew hamilton of millburn, two chief enemies to christ jesus; yea, enemies to the duke himself and to his whole house, in so far as at least they may procure their own particular profit. these and such other pestilent papists ceased not to cast faggots on the fire, continually crying, "forward upon these heretics; we shall for once and all rid this realm of them." [ ] aggravate. hearing of this, some of us repaired to perth again about the twenty-second day of may, and there we did abide for the comfort of our brethren. after invocation of the name of god, we began so to fortify the town and ourselves in the manner that we thought might prove best for our just defence. and, because we were not utterly despaired of the queen's favour, we drew up a letter to her grace, as followeth:-- "to the queen's grace regent, all humble obedience and duty premised. as heretofore, with jeopardy of our lives, and yet with willing hearts, we have served the authority of scotland, and your grace, now regent in this realm, in service dangerous and painful to our bodies; so now, with most dolorous minds we are constrained by unjust tyranny purposed against us to declare unto your grace, that, unless this cruelty be stayed by your wisdom, we will be compelled to take the sword of just defence against all that shall pursue us for the matter of religion, and for our conscience' sake; which ought not, nor may not, be subject to mortal creatures, farther than by god's word man be able to prove that he hath power to command us. "we signify moreover unto your grace, that if by rigour we be compelled to seek the extreme defence, we will not only notify our innocence and petitions to the king of france, to our mistress and to her husband, but also to the princes and council of every christian realm, declaring unto them that this cruel, unjust, and most tyrannical murder, intended against towns and multitudes, was and is the only cause of our revolt from our accustomed obedience, which, in god's presence, we faithfully promise to our sovereign mistress, to her husband, and unto your grace regent; provided that our consciences may live in that peace and liberty which christ jesus hath purchased unto us by his blood; and that we may have his word truly preached, and holy sacraments rightly ministrate unto us, without which we firmly purpose never to be subject to mortal man. for we think it better to expose our bodies to a thousand deaths than to hazard our souls to perpetual condemnation, by denying christ jesus and his manifest verity, which thing not only do they that commit open idolatry, but also all such as, seeing their brethren unjustly pursued for the cause of religion, and having sufficient means to comfort and assist them, do not-the-less withdraw from them their dutiful support. "your grace's obedient subjects in all things not repugnant to god, "the faithful congregation of christ jesus in scotland." in the same tenor we wrote to monsieur d'oysel in french, requiring of him that, by his wisdom, he would mitigate the queen's rage, and the rage of the priests; and warning him that otherwise that flame, then beginning to burn, would so kindle that it could not be slockened. we added that he declared himself no faithful servant to his master the king of france if, for the pleasure of the priests, he persecuted us, and so compelled us to take the sword of just defence. in like manner we wrote to captain serra la burse, and to all other captains and french soldiers in general, admonishing them that their vocation was not to fight against us natural scotsmen; and that they had no such commandment from their master. we besought them, therefore, not to provoke us to enmity against them, considering that they had found us favourable in their most extreme necessities. we declared further unto them that, if they entered into hostility and bloody war against us, this should continue longer than their and our lives, to wit, even in all posterity to come, so long as natural scotsmen should have power to revenge such cruelty, and most horrible ingratitude.... [sidenote: the protestants prepare for a struggle for liberty of conscience.] our letters were suppressed to the uttermost of the power of the enemy, and yet they came to the knowledge of many. but the rage of the queen and priests could not be stayed; and they moved forward against us: we were then but a very few and mean number of gentlemen in perth. perceiving the extremity to approach, we wrote to all brethren enjoining them to repair towards us for our relief. to this we found all men so readily bent, that the work of god was evident. and, because we wished to leave nothing undone that would declare our innocency to all men, we addressed a letter to those of the nobility who then persecuted us.... when our letters were divulged, some man began to reason whether of conscience it would be right to make war upon us, considering that we offered due obedience to the authority, and required nothing but liberty of conscience, and that our religion and actions should be tried by the word of god. our letters came with convenient expedition to the hands of the brethren in cunningham and kyle. these convened at the kirk of craigie, where, after some contrarious reasons, alexander, earl of glencairn, in zeal, burst forth in these words, "let every man serve his conscience. i will, by god's grace, see my brethren in perth; yea, albeit never man should accompany me, i will go, were it but with a pike upon my shoulder; for i had rather die with that company than live after them." these words so encouraged the rest that all decided to go forward, and that they did so stoutly that, when lion herald, in his coat armour, by public sound of trumpet in glasgow, commanded all men under pain of treason to return to their houses, never man obeyed that charge, but all went forward.... [sidenote: the rival forces are arrayed outside perth.] our requests and advertisements notwithstanding, monsieur d'oysel and his frenchmen, with the priests and their bands, marched against perth, and approached within ten miles of the town. then repaired the brethren from all quarters for our relief. the gentlemen of fife, angus, and mearns, with the town of dundee, first hazarded resistance to the enemy; and for that purpose chose a platt of ground, distant a mile and more from the town. in the meantime the lord ruthven, provost of perth, and a man whom many judged godly and stout in that action (as in very deed he was, even unto his last breath), left the town, and departed first to his own place, and afterwards to the queen. his defection and revolt was a great discouragement to the hearts of many; and yet god did so comfort that, within the space of twelve hours after, the hearts of all men were erected again. those then assembled did not so much hope for victory by their own strength, as by the power of him whose truth they professed; and they began to comfort one another, until the whole multitude was encouraged by a reasonable hope. [sidenote: commissioners are sent by the queen: interview with john knox: may ] the day after the lord ruthven departed, which was the twenty-fourth of may, the earl of argyll, lord james, prior of st. andrews, and the lord semple arrived in perth, with commission from the queen regent to inquire into the cause of the convocation of lieges there.... on the morning of the day after that, the twenty-fifth day of may, before the said lords departed, john knox desired to speak with them, and, permission being granted, he was conveyed to their lodging by the laird of balvaird, and thus he began:-- "not only the hearts of the true servants of god, but also those of all who bear any favour to their country and fellow-countrymen, ought to be moved by the present troubles to descend within themselves and to consider deeply what shall be the end of this pretended tyranny.... "firstly, i most humbly require of you, my lords, to say to the queen's grace regent, in my name, that we whom she in her blind rage doth persecute are god's servants, and faithful and obedient subjects to the authority of this realm; that that religion which she pretendeth to maintain by fire and sword is not the true religion of christ jesus, but is expressly contrary to it, a superstition devised by the brain of man; which i offer myself to prove against all that within scotland will maintain the contrary, liberty of tongue being granted to me, and god's written word being admitted for judge. "and, secondly, i farther require your honours to say unto her grace, in my name, that, as i have already written, so now i say that this enterprise of hers shall not prosper in the end; and albeit for a time she trouble the saints of god, she does not fight against man only, but against the eternal god and his invincible truth; and the end shall be her confusion, unless she repent and desist betimes. "these things i require of you, in the name of the eternal god, to say unto her grace as from my mouth; adding that i have been and am a more assured friend to her grace than are these servants to her corrupt appetites, who either flatter her, or else inflame her against us. we seek nothing but the advance of god's glory, suppression of vice, and the maintenance of truth in this poor realm." all three did promise to report these words so far as they could, and we learned afterwards that they did so. yea, the lord semple himself, a man sold under sin, enemy to god and to all godliness, yet made such report that the queen was somewhat offended that any man should use such liberty in her presence. she still proceeded in her malice; for she sent her lion herald immediately after with letters in which all men were straitly charged to quit the town, under pain of treason. after he had declared these letters to the chief men of the congregation, the herald proclaimed them publicly, upon sunday, the twenty-eighth of may. [sidenote: the nobility of the west-land march to the aid of perth: the regent takes fright.] in the meantime, sure knowledge came to the queen, to the duke, and to monsieur d'oysel, that the earl of glencairn, the lords ochiltree and boyd, the young sheriff of ayr, the lairds of craigie-wallace, cessnock, carnell, barr, gadgirth, and the whole congregation of kyle and cunningham, approached for our relief. in very deed they came with such diligence, and in such a number that the enemy had just cause to fear, and all that professed christ jesus had just matter to praise god for their fidelity and stout courage in that need; for the tyranny of the enemy was bridled by their presence.... their number was estimated at twenty-five hundred men, and of these twelve hundred were horsemen. the queen, understanding how the said earl and lords approached with their company, caused all ways to be beset, so that no information should come to us, and that we, despairing of support, might consent to the terms required by her. at the same time, she sent to require that some discreet men of our number should come and speak with the duke and monsieur d'oysel (who lay with their army at auchterarder, ten miles from perth) for the purpose of making some reasonable appointment.... from us were sent the laird of dun, the laird of inverquharity, and thomas scott of abbotshall to learn what appointment the queen would offer. the duke and monsieur d'oysel required that access to the town should be given, and that all matters in dispute should be referred to the queen's pleasure. to this they answered that neither had they commission so to promise, nor durst they conscientiously persuade their brethren to agree to such a promise. but, they said, if the queen's grace would promise that no inhabitant of the town should be troubled for any such crimes as might be alleged against them for the late change of religion, and the abolition of idolatry and downcasting of the places of idolatry; and if she would suffer that the religion begun should continue, and would on her departure leave the town free from the garrisons of french soldiers, they for their part would labour to secure from their brethren that the queen should be obeyed in all things. monsieur d'oysel perceived the danger to be great, should a speedy appointment not be made. he saw, also, that they would not be able to execute their tyranny against us after the congregation of kyle, of whose coming we had no information, should be joined with us. so, with good words, he dismissed the said lords to persuade the brethren to quiet concord. all men were well disposed to this course, and with one voice they cried, "cursed be they that seek effusion of blood, war, or dissension. let us possess christ jesus, and the benefit of his evangel, and none within scotland shall be more obedient subjects than we shall be." after the coming of the earl of glencairn was known, the enemy quaked for fear, and with all expedition there were sent from stirling again the earl of argyll and the lord james, in company with a crafty man, master gavin hamilton, abbot of kilwinning, to finish the appointment foresaid.... [sidenote: another appointment is patched up: th may .] with the earl of glencairn came our loving brother john willock; john knox was in the town already. these two went to the earl of argyll and prior, and accused them of disloyalty, in that they had defrauded their brethren of their dutiful support and comfort in time of their greatest necessity. they both answered that their heart was constant with their brethren, and that they would defend the cause to the uttermost of their power. but because they had promised to labour for concord and to assist the queen should we refuse reasonable offers, conscience and honour did not permit them to do less than be faithful in their promise made. therefore, they required that the brethren might be persuaded to consent to that reasonable appointment; promising, in god's presence, that, if the queen did break in any jot thereof, they, with their whole powers, would assist and co-operate with their brethren in all times to come. this promise made, the preachers appeased the multitude, and ultimately secured the consent of all men to the appointment foresaid; although they did not obtain this without great labour. and no wonder, for many foresaw the danger to follow; yea, the preachers themselves, in open sermon, did affirm plainly that they were assuredly persuaded that the queen did not mean to act in good faith. but, to stop the mouth of the adversary, who unjustly accused us of rebellion, they most earnestly required all men to approve the appointment, and so to suffer hypocrisy to disclose itself. the appointment was concluded on the twenty-eighth of may, and on the day following the congregation departed from perth.... [sidenote: the lords and the congregation make a fresh covenant.] before the lords departed they made this bond:-- "at perth, the last day of may, the year of god , the congregations of the west country, with the congregations of fife, perth, dundee, angus, mearns, and montrose, being convened in the town of perth, in the name of jesus christ, for forthsetting of his glory; understanding nothing more necessary for the same than to keep a constant amity, unity, and fellowship together, according as they are commanded by god, are confederate, and become bound and obliged, in the presence of god, to concur and assist together in doing all things required by god in his scripture, that may be to his glory: and with their whole power to destroy, and put away all things that do dishonour to his name, so that god may be truly and purely worshipped. and in case any trouble is intended against the said congregation, or any part or member thereof, the whole congregation shall concur, assist, and convene together, to the defence of the congregation or person troubled; and shall not spare labours, goods, substance, bodies, and lives, in maintaining the liberty of the whole congregation, and every member thereof, against whatsoever power shall intend the said trouble, for the cause of religion or any other cause dependent thereupon, or laid to their charge under pretence thereof, although it happen to be coloured with any other outward cause. in witnessing and testimony of this, the whole congregations foresaid have ordained and appointed the noblemen and persons underwritten to subscribe these presents. "arch. argyle. glencairn. james stewart. r. lord boyd. matthew campbell of thringland. ochiltree." [sidenote: the regent enters perth, and at once breaks faith with the congregation.] on the twenty-ninth of may the queen, the duke, monsieur d'oysel, and the frenchmen entered perth.... the swarm of papists that entered with her began at once to make provision for their mass.... the queen began to rage against all godly and honest men; their houses were oppressed by the frenchmen; the lawful magistrates, provost as well as bailies, were unjustly and irregularly deposed from their authority. a wicked man, void of god's fear, and destitute of all virtue, the laird of kinfauns, was intrused by her as provost of the town.... she gave order that four ensenyes[ ] of the soldiers should abide in the town, to maintain idolatry and to resist the congregation. honest and indifferent men asked why she did so manifestly violate her promise. she answered that she was bound to keep no promise to heretics; and, moreover, that she had only promised to leave the town free of french soldiers. this last she said she had done, because those that were left were scotsmen. when it was reasoned, to the contrary, that all those who took wages of france were accounted french soldiers, she answered, "princes must not so straitly be bound to keep their promises. myself," said she, "would make little conscience to take from all that sort their lives and inheritance, if i might do it with as honest an excuse." and then she left the town in extreme bondage, after her ungodly frenchmen had most cruelly treated the majority of the citizens that remained. [ ] companies. [sidenote: the earl of argyll abandons the regent, and declines to return.] the earl of argyll, and lord james, perceiving in the queen nothing but mere tyranny and falsehood, and mindful of their former promises to their brethren, secretly conveyed themselves and their companies from the town. with them departed the lord ruthven, the earl of menteith, and the laird of tullibardine.... the queen, highly offended at the sudden departure of these persons, charged them to return, under the highest pain of her displeasure. but they answered that they could not, with safe conscience, be partakers in so manifest tyranny as that committed by her, and in the great iniquity which they perceived to be devised by her and her ungodly council, the prelates. this answer was given to her on the first day of june, and immediately the earl of argyll and lord james repaired toward st. andrews, and in their journey intimated to the laird of dun, to the laird of pittarrow, to the provost of dundee, and to other professors in angus, their desire that they should visit them in st. andrews on the fourth of june, that reformation might be made there. this they did, bringing john knox in their company. [sidenote: the archbishop of st. andrews interdicts knox from preaching.] the archbishop, hearing of reformation to be made in his cathedral church, thought it time to stir if ever he were to do so. he assembled his colleagues and confederate fellows, besides his other friends, and came to the town upon the saturday night, accompanied by a hundred spears, desiring to have stopped john knox from preaching. the two lords and gentlemen foresaid were only accompanied by their quiet households, and the sudden coming of the archbishop was the more fearful; for the queen and her frenchmen having departed from perth, were then lying in falkland, within twelve miles of st. andrews. besides, the town had not at that time given profession of christ, and therefore the lords could not be assured of their friendship. after consultation, many were of opinion that the preaching should be delayed for that day, and especially that john knox should not preach; for the archbishop had affirmed that he would not suffer this, seeing that the picture of the said john had formerly been burned by his commandment. he instructed an honest gentleman, robert colville of cleish, to say to the lords that did john knox present himself at the preaching place in his town and principal church, he should "gar[ ] him be saluted with a dozen culverins, whereof the most part should light upon his nose." [ ] cause. [sidenote: john knox declines to obey the dictates of the archbishop.] after long deliberation, the said john was called, that his own judgment might be had. many persuasions were used to induce him to delay for that time, and great terrors were threatened if he should enterprise such a thing, in seeming contempt of the archbishop. but he answered, "god is witness that i never preached christ jesus in contempt of any man, nor am i disposed at any time to present myself at that place, from respect to my own private commodity, or to the worldly hurt of any creature; but i cannot conscientiously delay to preach to-morrow, unless my body be violently withholden. in this town and church, god first began to call me to the dignity of a preacher. from this i was reft by the tyranny of france, by procurement of the bishops, as ye all know well enough. how long i continued prisoner, what torment i sustained in the galleys, and what were the sobs of my heart, it is now no time to recite. this only i cannot conceal. more than one have heard me say, when the body was far absent from scotland, that my assured hope was that i should preach in st. andrews in open audience before i departed this life. "therefore," said john knox, "my lords, seeing that god hath, beyond the expectation of many, brought me in the body to the place where first i was called to the office of a preacher, and from the which most unjustly i was removed, i beseech your honours not to stop me from presenting myself unto my brethren. as for the fear of danger that may come to me, let no man be solicitous. my life is in the custody of him whose glory i seek; and therefore i cannot so fear their boast or tyranny as to cease from doing my duty, when of his mercy he offereth occasion. i desire the hand or weapon of no man to defend me; only do i crave audience. if this be denied here to me at this time, i must seek further where i may have it." [sidenote: john knox preaches at st. andrews once more: the monuments of idolatry are cast down.] at these words, the lords were fully content that john knox should occupy the preaching place, which he did upon sunday, the eleventh of june. in his sermon he treated of the ejection of the buyers and the sellers from the temple of jerusalem, as it is written in the evangelists, matthew and john. he applied the corruption that was there to the corruption that is in the papistry; and christ's act, to the duty of those to whom god giveth power and zeal thereto. the result was that the magistrates within the town, the provost and bailies, as well as the community for the most part, agreed to remove all monuments of idolatry, and this they did with expedition. [sidenote: the regent declares war: the forces of the congregation are called out.] the archbishop, informed of this, departed that same day to the queen, who lay in falkland with her frenchmen, as we have said. the hot fury of the archbishop did so kindle her choler (and yet the love was very cold betwixt them) that, without any further delay, it was decided to invade st. andrews.... when this was known, counsel was given to the lords to march forward and get to cupar before the queen. this they did, giving notice to all brethren to repair towards them with possible expedition. this also was done with such diligence that in their assembling the wondrous work of god might have been espied. when the lords came to cupar at night, they were not a hundred horse, and a certain number of footmen, whom lord james brought from the coast side; and yet, before the next day at twelve o'clock, which was tuesday, the thirteenth of june, their number exceeded three thousand men.... finally, god did so multiply our number that it appeared as if men had rained from the clouds. the enemy, understanding nothing of our force, assured themselves of victory.... before midnight they sent forward their ordnance, themselves following before three o'clock in the morning. [sidenote: the affair of cupar moor: the regent sues for an armistice.] the lords, being notified of this, assembled their company upon cupar moor early in the morning.... the lord ruthven took charge of the horsemen, and so ordered them that the enemy was never permitted to espy our number; the day was dark, and that helped. the enemy, thinking to have found no resistance, after they had twice or thrice made a feint of retiring, advanced with great expedition, and approached within a mile before ever their horsemen stayed.... after twelve o'clock, the mist began to vanish, and then some of their horsemen occupied an eminence whence they might discern our number. when they perceived this, their horsemen and footmen came to a speedy halt. posts ran to the duke and monsieur d'oysel to declare our number, and what order we kept; and then were mediators sent to make appointment. they were not suffered to approach the lords, nor yet to view our camp. this put them in greater fear.... answer received, the duke and monsieur d'oysel, having commission from the queen regent, required that assurance[ ] might be taken for eight days, to the end that indifferent men in the meantime might commune upon some final agreement concerning those things which were then in controversy. to this we fully consented, albeit that in number and force we were far superior.... [ ] truce. the assurance granted by the earl of arran and others contained faithful promise, "that we, and our company foresaid, shall retire incontinent to falkland, and shall with diligence transport the frenchmen and our other folks now presently with us; and that no frenchman or other soldiers of ours, shall remain within the bounds of fife, except as many as before the raising of the last army lay in dysart, kirkcaldy, and kinghorn, these to lie in the same places only, if we shall think good. and this to have effect for the space of eight days following the date hereof _exclusive_, that in the meantime certain noblemen, by the advice of the queen's grace and rest of the council, may convene to talk of such things as may make good order and quietness amongst the queen's lieges...." [sidenote: once more the regent breaks faith.] having received this assurance, we departed first, because we were requested by the duke to do so. we returned to cupar, lauding and praising god for his mercy showed; and thereafter every man departed to his dwelling place. the lords and a great part of the gentlemen proceeded to st. andrews, and abode there certain days, always looking for those that had been promised to be sent from the queen, for the preparation of an appointment. perceiving her craft and deceit (for under that assurance she meant nothing else than to convey herself, her ordnance, and frenchmen, over the water of forth) we took consultation as to what should be done to deliver perth from these ungodly soldiers, and how our brethren, exiled from their own houses, might be restored again. it was decided that the brethren of fife, angus, mearns, and strathearn should convene at perth on the twenty-fourth day of june for that purpose; and in the meantime letters were written by the earl of argyll, and lord james, to the queen regent.... [sidenote: the relief of perth.] at perth, a trumpet was sent by the lords, commanding the captains and their bands to vacate the town, and to leave it to its ancient liberty and just inhabitants; and also commanding them and the laird of kinfauns, provost, thrust upon the town by the queen, to open the gates of the town and admit all our sovereign's lieges.... to this they answered proudly that they would keep and defend that town, according to promise made to the queen regent.... and so, upon saturday, the twenty-fourth of june, at ten o'clock at night, the lord ruthven, who besieged the west quarter, commanded to shoot the first volley. this being done, the town of dundee, whose ordnance lay upon the east side of the bridge, did the like. the captains and soldiers within the town, perceiving that they were unable long to resist, requested a truce until twelve o'clock noon, promising that, if before that hour there came no relief to them from the queen regent, they would surrender the town, provided that they should be suffered to depart from the town with ensigns displayed. we, thirsting for the blood of no man, and seeking only the liberty of our brethren, suffered them freely to depart without any further molestation.... [sidenote: the sack of the abbey and palace of scone.] the bishop of moray lay in the abbey of scone, and it was thought good that some proceedings should be taken against him and against that place, which lay near to the town-end. the lords wrote unto him, for he lay within two miles of perth, that, unless he would come and assist them, they neither could spare nor save his place. he answered, by writing, that he would come, and would do as they thought expedient; that he would assist them with his force, and would vote with them against the rest of the clergy in parliament. but his answer was slow in coming, and the town of dundee marched forward. john knox was sent unto them to stay them; but before his coming, they had begun the pulling down of the idols and dortour.[ ] and, albeit the said john and others did what in them lay to stay the fury of the multitude, they were not able to restore complete order, and therefore they sent for the lords, earl of argyll, and lord james, who, coming with all diligence, laboured to save the palace and kirk. but, the multitude having found a great number of idols buried in the kirk for the purpose of preserving them to a better day (as the papists speak), the towns of dundee and perth could not be satisfied, until the whole furnishings and ornaments of the church were destroyed. yet did the lords so travail that they saved the bishop's palace, with the church and place for that night; for the two lords did not depart until they brought with them the whole number of those that most sought the bishop's displeasure.... the bishop's girnell[ ] was kept for the first night by the labours of john knox, who, by exhortation, removed such as violently would have made irruption.... [ ] hangings. [ ] granary. on the morrow, some of the poor, in hope of spoil, and some of the men of dundee, to see what had been done, went up to the abbey of scone. the bishop's servants were offended, and began to threaten and speak proudly, and, as it was constantly affirmed, one of the bishop's sons stogged through with a rapier a man of dundee, for looking in at the girnell door.... the multitude, easily inflamed, gave the alarm, and the abbey and palace were appointed to sackage. they took no long deliberation in carrying out their purpose, but committed the whole to the merciment of fire.... [sidenote: the forces of the congregation take possession of stirling and edinburgh.] while these things were being done at perth, the queen, fearing what should follow, determined to send certain bands of french soldiers to stirling, to stop the passage to us that then were upon the north side of forth. hearing of this, the earl of argyll and lord james departed secretly over-night, and with great expedition, getting in before the frenchmen, took the town. before their coming, the rascal multitude had laid hands on the thieves', i should say friars', places and utterly destroyed them. the queen and her faction, not a little afraid, departed hastily from edinburgh to dunbar. so we, with all reasonable diligence, marched forward to edinburgh to make reformation there, and arrived on the twenty-ninth of june. the provost for that time, the lord seton, a man without god, without honesty, and oftentimes without reason, had formerly greatly troubled and molested the brethren. he had taken upon himself the protection and defence of the black and grey friars; and for that purpose not only lay himself in one of the monasteries every night, but also constrained the most honest of the town, to their great grief and trouble, to keep vigil for the safety of those monsters. hearing of our sudden coming, however, he had abandoned his charge, and had left the spoil to the poor, who had made havoc of all such things as were movable in those places before our coming, and had left nothing but bare walls, yea, not so much as door or window. we were the less troubled in reforming such places. [sidenote: the congregation renew peaceable overtures to the regent.] for certain days we deliberated as to what was to be done, and then determined to send some message to the queen regent.... after safe conduct was purchased[ ] and granted, we directed unto her two grave men of our council. we gave commission and power to them to expose our whole purpose and intent, which was none other than before at all times we had insisted upon, to wit, that we might enjoy the liberty of conscience; that christ jesus might be truly preached, and his holy sacraments rightly ministered unto us; that unable ministers might be removed from ecclesiastical administration; that our preachers might be relaxed from the horn, and permitted to perform their duties without molestation, until such time as, either by a general council, lawfully convened, or by a parliament within the realm, the controversies in religion were decided; and that the bands of frenchmen, who were an intolerable burden to the country, and so fearful to us that we durst not in peaceable and quiet manner haunt the places where they did lie, should be sent to france, their native country. these things granted, her grace should have experience of our customary obedience. [ ] sued out; procured. to these heads the queen did answer at the first pleasantly, but then she began to handle the matter more craftily, complaining that she was not sought in a gentle manner; and that they in whom she had put most singular confidence had left her in her greatest need. in discussing these and such other things, pertaining nothing to their commission, she sought to spend and drive the time.... in the end of this communing, on the twelfth day of july , she desired to have private talk with the earl of argyll, and lord james, prior of st. andrews.... the council, after consultation, thought it inexpedient that the earl and prior should talk with the queen in any way; for her former practices made all men suspect that some deceit lurked under such coloured communing. it was known that she had said that, if she could by any means sunder those two from the rest, she was sure she should shortly attain her whole purpose; and one of her chief counsellors in those days had said that before michaelmas day these two should lose their heads.... the queen, perceiving that her craft could not prevail, was content that the duke's grace and the earl of huntly, with others appointed by her, should convene at preston, to commune with the said earl and prior, and such others as the lords of the congregation would appoint. these, convening at preston, spake the whole day without any certain conclusion. for this was the subterfuge of the queen and of her faction. by drift of time she hoped to weary our company, who, for the most part, had been in the field from the tenth day of may, and that when we were dispersed she might come to her purpose. in this she was not altogether deceived; for our commons were compelled to skaill for lack of expenses, and our gentlemen, partly constrained by lack of furnishing and partly hoping that some small appointment would result from so many communings, returned for the most part to their dwelling places, to repose themselves. the queen, in all these conventions, seemed to indicate that she would give liberty to religion, provided that, wheresoever she was, our preachers should cease, and the mass should be maintained. we, perceiving her malicious craft, answered that we would compel her grace to no religion, but that we could not, of conscience, for the pleasure of any earthly creature, put silence to god's true messengers. nor could we suffer that the right administration of christ's true sacraments should give place to manifest idolatry; for in so doing we should declare ourselves enemies to god, to christ jesus his son, to his eternal truth and to the liberty and establishment of his church within this realm. if her request were granted, there could be no kirk within the realm so established but that, at her pleasure, and by her residence and remaining there, she might overthrow the same.... to no point would the queen answer directly; but in all things she was so general and so ambiguous, that her craft appeared to all men. she had gotten sure information that our company was skailled--for her frenchmen were daily amongst us, without molestation or hurt done to them--and therefore she began to disclose her mind. "the congregation," she said, "has reigned these two months bypast: me myself would reign now other two." the malice of her heart being plainly perceived, there was deliberation as to what was to be done. it was decided that the lords, barons and gentlemen, with their substantial households, should remain in edinburgh that whole winter, for the purpose of establishing the church there. when it was found that, by corrupting our money, the queen made to herself immoderate gains for maintaining her soldiers, thereby destroying our whole commonwealth, it was thought necessary that the printing irons[ ] and all things pertaining to them should be taken into custody, for fear that she should privily cause them to be transported to dunbar. [ ] coining dies. [sidenote: death of harry the second, king of france.] in the meantime there came assured information, first, that the king of france was hurt, and, afterwards, that he was dead.... this wondrous work of god in his sudden death ought to have daunted the fury of the queen regent, and given her admonition that the same god could not long suffer her obstinate malice against his truth to remain unpunished. but her indurate heart could not be moved to repentance; and, hearing of the detention of the printing irons, she raged more outrageously than before.... we answered that we, without usurpation of anything justly pertaining to the crown of scotland, had stayed the printing irons because the commonwealth was greatly hurt by the corrupting of our money.... [sidenote: the regent again takes up arms against the congregation.] partly by her craft and policy, and partly by the labours of the archbishops of st. andrews and glasgow, the queen regent procured, from the whole number that were with her, consent to pursue us with all cruelty and expedition, before we could again assemble our forces, then dispersed for new equipment. certain knowledge of this reached us on the saturday at night, on the twenty-second of july, and we did what in us lay to give notice to our brethren. it was impossible, however, that those of the west, angus, mearns, strathearn, or fife, in any number, could come to us; for the enemy marched from dunbar upon the sunday, and approached within two miles of us before sunrise upon monday. they verily supposed that they should have found no resistance, being assured that only the lords and certain gentlemen remained, with their private households.... the most part of the town appeared rather to favour us than the queen's faction; and offered us the uttermost of their support, a promise that, for the most part, they faithfully kept. the town of leith made similar promise, but they did not keep the like fidelity; for, when we were upon the field, advancing to their support, when the french were close upon them, they surrendered without further resistance. their unprovided and sudden defection astonished many; and yet we retired quietly to the side of craig-end gate, where we took up a defensive position.... before eight o'clock in the morning, god had given us both courage and a reasonable number wherewith to withstand the fury of the enemy. as many of the town of edinburgh as had been trained to arms, and divers others besides, behaved themselves both faithfully and stoutly. the gentlemen of lothian, and especially calder, haltoun, and ormiston, were very helpful.... [sidenote: edinburgh castle supports the regent: appointment made at leith.] the enemy took such fright that they determined not to invade us where we stood, but planned to approach edinburgh by the other side of the water of leith, and that because they had, unknown to us, secured the support of the castle. we had supposed the lord erskine, captain of the castle, either to be our friend, or at least to be neutral. but, when we had determined to fight, he sent word to the earl of argyll, to lord james, his sister's son, and to the other noblemen, that he would declare himself both enemy to them and to the town, and would shoot at both, if they made any resistance to the entrance of the frenchmen to the town. we could not fight or stop the enemy, but under the mercy of the castle and whole ordnance thereof. in conclusion, it was found less damage to take an appointment, albeit the conditions were not such as we desired, than to hazard battle betwixt two such enemies. after long talking, certain heads were drawn by us.... at the links of leith appointment was made and subscribed on the twenty-fifth of july. we returned to the town of edinburgh, where we remained until the next day at noon; when, after sermon, dinner, and a proclamation made at the market cross, we withdrew from the town.... [sidenote: the congregation invoke the aid of england.] we came first to linlithgow, and after that to stirling, where, after consultation, a bond of defence, for maintenance of religion, and for mutual defence, every one of the other, was subscribed by all that were present.... this bond subscribed, we, foreseeing that the queen and bishops meant nothing but deceit, thought good to seek support from all christian princes against her and her tyranny, in case we should be more sharply pursued. and because england was of the same religion, and lay next to us, it was judged expedient first to approach her rulers. this we did by one or two messengers, as hereafter, in the proper place, shall be declared more fully.... [sidenote: john willock braves the fury of the regent, and continues to minister to the kirk in edinburgh.] for comfort of the brethren and continuance of the kirk in edinburgh, our dear brother john willock was left there. he, for his faithful labours and bold courage in that battle, deserves immortal praise. when it was found dangerous for john knox, already elected minister to that kirk, to continue there, the brethren requested the said john willock to abide with them, lest, for lack of ministers, idolatry should again be erected. to this he so gladly consented that it was evident that he preferred the comfort of his brethren and the continuance of the kirk there to his own life. one part of the frenchmen were appointed to lie in garrison at leith (that was the first benefit they got for their confederacy with them), the other part were appointed to lie in the canongate; the queen and her train abiding in the abbey. our brother john willock, the day after our departure, preached in st. giles's kirk, and fervently exhorted the brethren to stand constant in the truth which they had professed. [sidenote: the citizens decline to permit popish ceremonies to be renewed in the high kirk.] the duke, and divers others of the queen's faction, were present at this and some other sermons. this liberty and preaching, with the resort of all people thereto, highly offended the queen and the other papists, and they began to give terrors to the duke; affirming that he would be reputed as one of the congregation, if he gave his countenance to the sermons. thereafter they began to require that mass should be set up again in st. giles's kirk, and that the people should be set at liberty to choose what religion they would: for, they affirmed, it had been a condition in the appointment that the town of edinburgh should have what religion they cared for. to ascertain this, the duke, the earl of huntly, and the lord seton were sent to the tolbooth, to solicit all men to submit to the queen's opinion. the two last named did what they could, but the duke remained a mere beholder, and of him the brethren had good hopes. after many persuasions and threatenings by the said earl and lord, the brethren stoutly and valiantly, in the lord jesus, gainsaid their most unjust petitions.... the foresaid earl and lord seton, then provost of edinburgh, perceiving that they could not prevail in that manner, began to entreat that the citizens would so far submit to the queen's pleasure as to choose another kirk within the town, or at least be contented that mass should be said either after or before their sermons. answer was given that they could not give place to the devil, who was the chief inventor of the mass, for the pleasure of any creature. they were in possession of that kirk, and they could not abandon it; nor could they suffer idolatry to be set up there, unless they should be constrained so to do by violence, and, if this were resorted to, they were determined to seek the next remedy.... by god's grace, the citizens continued in faithful service of god until the month of november. they not only convened to the preaching, daily supplications, and administration of baptism; but also the lord's table was administered, even in the eyes of the very enemy, to the great comfort of many afflicted consciences. [sidenote: the regent restores the mass at holyrood, persecutes the reformed clergy, and seeks to embroil the protestants with the french.] as god did potently work through his true minister, and in his troubled kirk, so did not the devil cease to inflame the malice of the queen, and of the papists with her. shortly after her coming to the abbey of holyroodhouse, she caused mass to be said, first in her own chapel, and after that in the abbey, where the altars had before been cast down. her malice extended in like manner to cambuskenneth; for there she cancelled the stipends of as many of the canons as had forsaken papistry. she gave command and inhibition that the abbot of lindores should not receive payment of any part of his living in the north, because he had submitted himself to the congregation, and had made some reformation to his place. by her consent and procurement, the preaching stools in the kirk of leith were broken, and idolatry was re-erected there. her french captains, with their soldiers in great companies, resorted to st. giles's kirk in edinburgh at the time of preaching and prayers, and made their common deambulator[ ] therein, with such loud talking that it was impossible to hear the preacher distinctly. although the minister was oft times compelled to cry out on them, praying to god to rid the people of such locusts, they continued in their wicked purpose. this had been devised and ordered by the queen, who sought to draw our brethren of edinburgh into a cummer[ ] with the soldiery, so that she might have a colourable occasion for breaking the league with them. yet, by god's grace, they so behaved themselves that she could find no fault with them. on the other hand, in all these things, and in every one of them, she is worthily counted to have contravened the said appointment.... [ ] promenade. [ ] entanglement. [sidenote: the regent receives reinforcements of troops from france.] in the meantime the queen regent, knowing assuredly what force was shortly to come to her aid, ceased not, by all means possible, to cloak the incoming of the french, and to inflame the hearts of our countrymen against us.... she used these means to abuse the simplicity of the people, that they should not suddenly espy for what purpose she brought in her new bands of men of war. these, to the number of a thousand men, arrived about the middle of august. the rest were appointed to come after with monsieur de la broche and the bishop of amiens, who arrived on the nineteenth day of september, as if they had been ambassadors. what was their negotiation, the result declared, and they themselves could not long conceal; for, both by tongue and pen, they proclaimed that they had been sent for the utter extermination of all that would not profess the papistical religion in all points.... prudent men foresaw that the queen intended a complete conquest. but, to the end that the people should not suddenly stir, she would not bring in her full force at once, but by continual traffic purposed to augment her army, so that in the end we should not be able to resist. the greatest part of the nobility and many of the people were so enchanted by her treasonable agents that they could not listen to, or credit, the truth plainly spoken. the french, after the arrival of their new men, began to brag: then began they to divide the lands and lordships according to their own fancies; for one was styled monsieur d' ergyle; another, monsieur le prior; the third, monsieur de ruthven; yea, they were so assured, in their own opinion, to possess whatsoever they list, that some asked for statements of the rentals and revenues of divers men's lands, to the end that they might choose the best.... [sidenote: a convention is held at stirling: th september .] as we have already said, a convention was appointed to be held at stirling on the tenth day of september. to this repaired the most part of the lords of the congregation, ... and in the meantime came assured word that the frenchmen had begun to fortify leith. this action more evidently disclosed the queen's craft, and so deeply grieved the hearts of the whole nobility that, with one consent, they addressed a letter to the queen on the subject. this letter was signed by my lord duke, the earls of arran, glencairn and menteith, by the lords ruthven, ochiltree and boyd, and by divers other barons and gentlemen.... [sidenote: the lords of the congregation agree to take up arms against the french invasion.] the duke and lords, understanding that the fortification of leith was still proceeding, directed their whole forces to convene at stirling on the fifteenth day of october, that from thence they might advance to edinburgh, for redress of the great enormities committed by the french upon the whole country, which was so oppressed by them that the life of every honest man was bitter to him.[ ]... [ ] in framing a historical record of the important events in scotland in which he took a part, knox seems to have considered it incumbent upon him to preserve in his chronicle complete copies of the numerous documents and missives concerning the relations of the reformers among themselves, or embodying the communings of the reformers with the queen regent and with the sovereign of england. in the present edition, these are omitted, or only quoted in abbreviated form, so far as may be necessary to keep the reader in close touch with the thread of the narrative, and the attitude of the different parties.--ed. [sidenote: the protests of the congregation are scornfully rejected.] there came from the queen regent, on the twenty-first day of october, master robert forman, lion king of arms, who brought unto us the following credit:-- "that she wondered how any durst presume to command her in that realm, which needed not to be conquered by any force, considering that it was already conquered by marriage; that frenchmen could not justly be called strangers, seeing that they were naturalised; and therefore that she would neither make the town of leith patent, nor yet send any man away, except as she thought expedient. she accused the duke of violating his promise; she made long protestation of her love towards the commonwealth of scotland; and in the end she commanded that, under pain of treason, all assisters to the duke and to us should depart from the town of edinburgh."... [sidenote: the congregation convene at edinburgh; they agree to depose the regent.] the whole nobility, barons, and burgesses, then present, were commanded to convene in the tolbooth of edinburgh, the same twenty-first day of october, for deliberation. the whole cause being exponed there by the lord ruthven, the question was proponed, whether she that so contemptuously refused the most humble request of the born counsellors of the realm, being also but a regent whose pretences threatened the bondage of the whole commonwealth, ought to be suffered so tyrannously to empire over them? because this question had not before been disputed in open assembly, it was thought expedient that the judgment of the preachers should be required. these being called and instructed in the case, john willock spoke as follows, affirming:-- "first. that, albeit magistrates be god's ordinance, having power and authority from him, their power is not so largely extended, but that it is bounded and limited by god in his word. "secondarily. that, as subjects are commanded to obey their magistrates, so are magistrates commanded to fulfil their duty to the subjects, as god by his word has prescribed the office of the one and of the other. "thirdly. that, albeit god has appointed magistrates to be his lieutenants on earth, and has honoured them with his own title, calling them gods, he did never so establish any, but that for just causes they might be deprived. "fourthly. that, in deposing princes and those in authority, god did not always use his immediate power; but sometimes he used other means which his wisdom thought good, and justice approved. by asa he had removed maachah, his own mother, from the honour and authority which she had brooked;[ ] by jehu he had destroyed joram and the whole posterity of ahab; and by divers others he had deposed from authority those whom previously he had established by his own word. [ ] soiled. "the queen regent had denied her chief duty to the subjects of this realm, which was to minister justice unto them indifferently, to preserve their liberties from invasion by strangers, and to suffer them to have god's word freely and openly preached amongst them. moreover, she was an open and obstinate idolatress, a vehement maintainer of all superstition and idolatry; and, finally, she had utterly despised the counsel and requests of the nobility. upon these grounds he argued that there was no reason why they, the born counsellors, nobility, and barons of the realm, might not justly deprive her from all regiment and authority amongst them."... the individual vote of every man being required, and every man commanded to speak what his conscience judged in that matter, as he would answer to god, there was none found amongst the whole number who did not, by his own tongue, consent to her deprivation.... after our act of suspension was by sound of trumpet divulged at the market cross of edinburgh, we dismissed the herald with his answer, and on the following day we summoned the town of leith by the sound of trumpet, requiring, in name of the king and queen and of the council then in edinburgh, that all scots and french men,[ ] of whatsoever estate and degree they should be, to depart from the town of leith within the space of twelve hours, and "make the same patent to all and sundry our sovereign lady's lieges."... [ ] that is, men-at-arms. [sidenote: the siege of leith is commenced: traitors hinder the protestants.] defiance given, there was skirmishing, without great slaughter. preparation of scaills[ ] and ladders was made for the assault, which had been agreed upon by common consent of the nobility and barons. the scaills were appointed to be made in st. giles's church, and preaching was neglected. this not a little grieved the preachers, and many godly persons.... the queen had amongst us her assured spies, who did not only signify unto her what was our state, but also what were our counsel, purposes, and devices. some of our own company were vehemently suspected to be the very betrayers of all our secrets. a boy of the official of lothian, master james balfour, was caught carrying a writing which disclosed the most secret thing that was devised in the council; yea, these very things which were thought only to have been known to a very few. [ ] scaling-ladder. [sidenote: hardships of the protestant party: the soldiers demand their pay.] by such domestic enemies not only were our purposes frustrated, but also our determinations were often overthrown and changed. the duke's friends sought to alarm him, and he was greatly troubled; by his fear many others were troubled. the men of war, for the most part men without god or honesty, made a mutiny, because they lacked a part of their wages.... all these troubles were practised by the queen, and put into execution by the traitors amongst ourselves.... to pacify the men of war, a collection was devised. but, because some were poor and some were niggardly and avaricious, no sufficient sum could be obtained. it was thought expedient that a cunyie[ ] should be erected, so that every nobleman might cunyie his silver to supply the immediate necessity. david forrest, john hart, and others who before had charge of the cunyie-house, promised their faithful labours; but, when the matter came to the very point, the said john hart and others of his faction stole away, and took with them the necessary tools.... [ ] mint. [sidenote: four thousand crowns are sent from england, and captured by lord bothwell.] there now remained no hope that any money could be furnished among ourselves; and therefore it was concluded by a few of those whom we judged most secret that inquiry should be directed to sir ralph sadler, and sir james crofts, then having charge at berwick, to ascertain whether they would support us with any reasonable sum in that urgent necessity. and for that purpose the laird of ormiston was directed to them in as secret manner as we could devise. but our counsel was disclosed to the queen, who appointed the lord bothwell, as he himself confessed, to await the return of the said laird. that he did with all diligence; and, being assuredly informed by what way he would come, the said earl bothwell foreset his way, and, coming upon him at unawares, did capture him, and the sum of four thousand crowns of the sun, which sir ralph sadler and sir james crofts had most lovingly sent for our support.... the earl of arran, the lord james, the master of maxwell, with the most part of the horsemen, took sudden purpose to pursue the said earl of bothwell, in the hope that they might apprehend him in crichton or morham.... but, albeit the departure and counsel of the earl of arran and lord james was very sudden and secret, the earl bothwell, then being in crichton, received information of this, and so escaped with the money.... [sidenote: the men of dundee lose their guns.] in the absence of the said lords and horsemen (we mean the same day that they departed, which was the last of october) the provost and town of dundee, together with some soldiers, issued from the town of edinburgh, and carried with them some great ordnance to shoot at leith.... the french being notified that our horsemen were absent, and that the whole company were at dinner, made a sortie, and with great expedition came to the place where our ordnance was laid. the town of dundee, with a few others, resisted for a while, with their ordnance as well as hackbuts; but, being left by our ungodly and feeble soldiers, who fled without stroke offered or given, they were compelled to give back, and so to leave the ordnance to the enemies. these pursued the fugitives to the middle of the canongate, and to the foot of leith wynd. their cruelty then began to discover itself; for the decrepit, the aged, the women and children, found no greater favour in their fury than did the strong man who made resistance. [sidenote: the ill results of further treachery.] it was very apparent that amongst ourselves there was some treason. upon the first alarm, all men made haste to come to the relief of their brethren, and in very deed we might have saved them, and at least we might have saved the ordnance, and have kept the canongate from danger; for we were at once marched forward with bold courage. but then a shout was raised amongst ourselves (god will disclose the traitors one day) affirming that the whole french company had entered leith wynd at our backs. what clamour and disorder then suddenly arose, we list not to express with multiplication of words. the horsemen and some of those that ought to have maintained order overrode their poor brethren at the entrance of the nether bow. the cry of distress arose in the town; the wicked and malignant blasphemed; the feeble (amongst whom was the justice clerk, sir john bellenden) fled without mercy. with great difficulty could they be kept in at the west port.... in the meantime, the french retired themselves with our ordnance.... [sidenote: the cause of the protestants is in eclipse.] from that day forward, the courage of many was dejected. with great difficulty could men be retained in the town; yea, some of the greatest estimation determined to abandon the enterprise. many fled away secretly, and those that did abide--a very few excepted--appeared destitute of counsel and manhood.... thus we continued from wednesday, the last of october, until monday the fifth of november, never two or three abiding firm in one opinion for the space of twenty-four hours.... upon the last-named day, the french made an early sally from leith, for the purpose of kepping[ ] the victuals which should have come to us. we being troubled amongst ourselves, and divided in opinions, were neither circumspect when they did ish,[ ] nor did we follow with such expedition as had been meet for men that would have sought our advantage.... [ ] intercepting. [ ] come forth; issue. [sidenote: maitland of lethington joins the lords of the congregation.] william maitland of lethington, younger, secretary to the queen, perceiving himself not only to be suspected as one that favoured our part, but also to stand in danger of his life if he should remain amongst so ungodly a company, surrendered himself to master kirkaldy, laird of grange. he, coming to us, exhorted us to constancy, assuring us that there was nothing but craft and deceit in the queen. he travailed exceedingly to keep the lords together, and most prudently laid before their eyes the dangers that might ensue upon their departing from the town. but fear and dolour had seized the hearts of all, and they could admit no consolation. the earl of arran, and lord james, offered to abide, if any reasonable company would abide with them. but men continued to steal away, and the wit of man could not stay them. yea, some of the greatest determined plainly that they would not abide. the captain of the castle, then lord erskine, would promise us no favours, but said he must needs declare himself friend to those that were able to support and defend him. when this answer was given to the lord james, it discouraged those that before had determined to have abided the uttermost, rather than abandon the town, had but the castle stood their friend. but the contrary being declared, every man consulted his own safety. the complaint of the brethren within the town of edinburgh was lamentable and sore. the wicked, too, began to spue forth the venom which lurked in their cankered heart.... [sidenote: the retreat from edinburgh.] it was finally agreed to withdraw from edinburgh; and, to avoid danger, it was decided that the forces should depart at midnight. the duke made provision for his ordnance, and caused it to be sent before; but the rest was left to the care of the captain of the castle, who received it, both that of the lord james, and that of dundee. the despiteful tongues of the wicked railed upon us, calling us traitors and heretics: every one provoked the other to cast stones at us. one cried, "alas, if i might see;" another, "fie, give advertisement to the frenchmen that they may come, and we shall help them now to cut the throats of these heretics." and thus, as the sword of dolour passed through our hearts, the cogitations and former determinations of many hearts were then revealed. we would never have believed that our natural countrymen and women would have wished our destruction so unmercifully, and have so rejoiced in our adversity.... we stayed not until we came to stirling, which we did the day after that we departed from edinburgh; for it was concluded, that consultation should be taken there as to the next remedy in so desperate a matter. [sidenote: john knox preaches at stirling: a notable sermon on the discipline of providence.] the next wednesday, which was the seventh of november, john knox preached (john willock having departed to england, as he had previously arranged) and treated of the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth versicles of the fourscore psalm.... in his exposition he declared the reasons for which god sometimes suffered his chosen flock to be exposed to mockage, to dangers, and to apparent destruction: to wit, that they might feel the vehemency of god's indignation; that they might know how little strength was in themselves; that they might leave a testimony to the generations following, as well of the malice of the devil against god's people, as of the marvellous work of god in preserving his little flock by far other means than man can espy. in explaining these words, "how long shalt thou be angry, o lord, against the prayer of thy people?" he declared how dolorous and fearful it was to fight against the temptation to believe that god turned away his face from our prayers, for that was nothing else than to comprehend and conceive god to be armed for our destruction. this temptation no flesh could abide or overcome, unless the mighty spirit of god interponed himself suddenly. by way of example, he noted the impatience of saul, when god would not hear his prayers. he plainly declared that the difference between the elect and reprobate in that temptation was that the elect, sustained by the secret power of god's spirit, did still call upon god, albeit he appeared to contemn their prayers. that, he said, was the sacrifice most acceptable to god, and was in a manner even to fight with god, and to overcome him, as jacob did in warselling with his angel. but the reprobate, said he, being denied of their requests at god's hand, either ceased to pray, and altogether contemned god, albeit he had straitly commanded us to call upon him in the day of adversity; or else they sought from the devil that which they saw they could not obtain from god. in the second part, he declared how hard it was to this corrupt nature of ours not to rejoice and put confidence in itself when god gave victory; and, therefore, how necessary it was that man by affliction should be brought to the knowledge of his own infirmity, lest, puffed up with vain confidence, he should make an idol of his own strength, as did king nebuchadnezzar. he gravely disputed upon the nature of the blind world, which, in all ages, had insolently rejoiced when god did chasten his own children. the reprobate could never see their glory and honour, and therefore despised them, and the wondrous work of god in them. "and yet," said he, "the joy and rejoicing of the world is but mere sorrow, because the end of it tendeth to sudden destruction, as the riotous banqueting of belshazzar declareth.... i doubt not that some of us have oftener than once read this psalm, as also that we have read and heard the travail and troubles of our ancient fathers. but which of us, either in reading or hearing their dolours and temptations, did so descend into ourselves that we felt the bitterness of their passions? i think none. and therefore has god brought us to some experience in our own persons.... "when we were few in number, in comparison with our enemies, when we had neither earl nor lord, a few excepted, to comfort us, we called upon god; we took him for our protector, defence, and only refuge. amongst us, we heard no bragging of multitude, of our strength, nor policy: we did only sob to god, to have respect to the equity of our cause, and to the cruel pursuit of the tyrannous enemy. but since our number hath been thus multiplied, and chiefly since my lord duke's grace and his friends have been joined with us, there has been nothing heard, but, 'this lord will bring these many hundred spears:' 'this man hath the credit to persuade this country:'[ ] 'if this earl be ours, no man in such a bounds will trouble us.' and thus the best of us all, who formerly felt god's potent hand to be our defence, have of late days put flesh to be our arm.... [ ] district. "i am uncertain if my lord's grace hath unfeignedly repented of his assistance to these murderers unjustly pursuing us. yea, i am uncertain if he hath repented of that innocent blood of christ's blessed martyrs which was shed in his default. but let it be that so he hath done (as i hear that he hath confessed his offence before the lords and brethren of the congregation), i am yet assured that neither he nor his friends have felt before this time the anguish and grief of heart suffered by us when in their blind fury they pursued us. therefore hath god justly permitted both them and us to fall into this confusion at the same time: us, because we put our trust and confidence in man; and them, that they should feel in their own hearts how bitter was the cup which they made others drink. it only remains that both they and we should turn to the eternal our god, who beats down to death, to the intent that he may raise up again, and leave the remembrance of his wondrous deliverance, to the praise of his own name.... "yea, whatever shall become of us and of our mortal carcases, i doubt not but that this cause, in despite of satan, shall prevail in the realm of scotland. for, as it is the eternal truth of the eternal god, so shall it once prevail, howsoever for a time it be impugned. it may be that god shall plague some because they delight not in the truth, albeit for worldly respects they seem to favour it. yea, god may take some of his dearest children away before their eyes see greater troubles. but neither shall the one nor the other hinder this action, and in the end it shall triumph." upon the conclusion of this sermon, in which john knox had vehemently exhorted all men to amendment of life, to prayers, and to the works of charity, the minds of men began wondrously to be erected.... in the end, it was concluded that william maitland should go to london to lay our estate and condition before the queen and council, and that the noblemen should go home and remain quiet until the sixteenth day of december. that date was appointed for the next convention in stirling, as in our third book shall be more amply declared. _look upon us, o lord, in the multitude of thy mercies; for we are brought even to the deep of the dungeon._ book third.[ ] - . [ ] _the third book of the progress of true religion within the realm of scotland._ [sidenote: the regent possesses edinburgh: arran is proclaimed traitor.] after our dolorous departure from edinburgh, the fury and the rage of the french increased; for then neither man nor woman that professed christ jesus durst be seen within that town. the houses of the most honest men were given by the queen to the frenchmen for a part of their reward. the earl bothwell, by sound of trumpet, proclaimed the earl of arran traitor, with other despiteful words; and all this was done for the pleasure and at the suggestion of the queen regent, who then thought the battle was won, without fear of further resistance. great practising she made towards obtaining the castle of edinburgh. the french made faggots and other preparations for assaulting the castle, by force or by treason. but god wrought so potently with the captain, the lord erskine, that neither did the queen prevail by flattery, nor the french by treason. [sidenote: french reinforcements meet with disaster at sea.] with all diligence, intelligence was sent to the duke of guise, who was then virtual king of france, requiring him to use expedition, if he desired the full conquest of scotland. he delayed no time, and sent away a new army with his brother, marquis d'elboeuf, and the count de martigues, promising that he himself should follow. but the righteous god, who in mercy looketh upon the affliction of those that unfeignedly sob unto him, fought for us by his own outstretched arm. one night, upon the coast of holland, eighteen ensigns of them were drowned, so that there only remained the ship in which were the two leaders with their ladies. these, violently driven back again to dieppe, were compelled to confess that god fought for the defence of scotland. [sidenote: news from england: a waiting game is played.] robert melvin, who had gone to london in company with the secretary, a little before christmas, now returned from england and brought certain articles to be answered by us. thereupon the nobility convened at stirling, and returned answer with diligence. the french, informed of this, marched to linlithgow, spoiled the duke's house, and wasted his lands of kinneil; thereafter coming to stirling, where they remained for some days. the duke, and the earls of argyll and glencairn, with their friends, moved on to glasgow, the earl of arran and lord james, to st. andrews; for charge had been given to all the protestant nobility to conserve their forces until god should send them further support. [sidenote: the french invade fife.] the french laid their plans for assaulting fife first; for it had stirred their great indignation. their purpose was to have taken and fortified the town, the abbey, and the castle of st. andrews. so they came to culross, after that to dunfermline, and then to burntisland, where they began to fortify. but they soon had reason to desist and march to kinghorn. for, when the earl of arran and the lord james learned that the french had departed from stirling, they departed also from st. andrews, and began to assemble their forces at cupar. they also sent their men of war to kinghorn; and to them there resorted divers of the coast side, who were of mind to resist at the beginning, rather than when the french had destroyed a part of their towns. as the lords had given express command that nothing should be hazarded until they themselves were present, the lord ruthven, a man of great experience, and inferior to few in stoutness, was dispatched to kinghorn. [sidenote: an affair at pettycur.] the men of war, and the rascal multitude, perceiving frenchmen landing from certain boats which had come from leith, determined to stop their coming ashore. not considering the enemies that approached from burntisland, they unadvisedly rushed down to the pettycur, as the brae be-west kinghorn is called, and at the sea-coast began skirmishing. they never took heed to the enemy that approached by land, until the horsemen charged down upon their backs, and the whole bands met them in the face. they were thus compelled to give back, with the loss of six or seven men killed, and some others taken prisoner. the reason why there was so small a loss in so great a danger was, next to the merciful providence of god, the sudden coming of the lord ruthven. immediately after our men had given back, he and his company came to the head of the brae, and stayed the french footmen, while some of ours broke upon their horsemen, and so repulsed them that they did no further hurt to our footmen. [sidenote: the french occupy kinghorn.] the french took kinghorn, and there they lay, wasting the country about, as well papists as protestants, yea, even those that were confederate with them, such as seafield, wemyss, balmuto, balweary, and others, enemies to god and traitors to their country. they spared not the sheep, the oxen, the kine, and horse of these men, and some say that their wives and daughters got favours of the french soldiers. thus did god recompense the papists in their own bosoms, for, besides the defiling of their houses, two of them received more damage than did all the gentlemen that professed the evangel within fife, the laird of grange only excepted. his house of the grange the french overthrew by gunpowder. the queen regent, proud of this victory, burst forth in blasphemous railing, and said, "where is now john knox's god? my god is now stronger than his, yea, even in fife." to her friends in france she posted news that thousands of the heretics had been slain, and that the rest were fled; and required that some nobleman would come and take the glory of that victory. upon that information, the count de martigues, with two ships, and some captains and horse, were directed to come to scotland; but little to their own advantage, as we shall hear. [sidenote: john knox preaches at cupar.] the lords of the congregation, offended at the foolishness of the rascal multitude, recalled the men of war, and remained certain days at cupar. to them repaired john knox, and, in our greatest desperation, preached a most comfortable sermon. his subject was, "the danger in which the disciples of christ jesus stood when they were in the midst of the sea, and jesus was upon the mountain." he exhorted us not to faint, but still to row against these contrary blasts, until jesus christ should come; "for," said he, "i am as assuredly persuaded that god shall deliver us from the extreme trouble, as i am assured that this is the evangel of jesus christ which i preach unto you this day. i am assured, albeit i cannot assure you, by reason of this present rage; god grant that ye may acknowledge his hand, after your eyes have seen his deliverance." in that sermon he comforted many. and yet he offended the earl of arran, who apprehended that certain words were spoken in reproach of him, because he kept himself more close and solitary than many men would have wished. [sidenote: the campaign in fife.] after these things, determination was taken that the earl of arran and lord james, with the men of war and some company of horsemen, should go to dysart, and there lie in wait upon the french, so that they should not utterly destroy the sea-coast, as they had intended to have done. the said earl and lord james did as they were appointed, albeit their company was very small; and yet they did so valiantly, that it passed all credibility. for twenty-one days they lay in their clothes; their boots never came off: they had skirmishing almost every day; yea, some days, from morn to even. the french had four thousand soldiers, beside their favourers and faction of the country. the lords had never altogether five hundred horsemen, with a hundred soldiers; and yet they held the french so busy, that for every horse they slew to the congregation, they lost four french soldiers. william kirkaldy of grange, on the day after his house was cast down, sent in his defiance to monsieur d'oysel and the rest, declaring that to that hour had he used the french favourably. he had saved their lives, when he might have suffered their throats to be cut; but, seeing that they had used him with that rigour, let them not look for that favour in times to come. the said william kirkaldy, and the master of lyndsay, escaped many dangers. the master had his horse slain under him: the said william was almost betrayed in his house at hallyards. yet they never ceased; night and day they waited upon the french. on one occasion, they with some gentlemen laid themselves in a secret place, before day, to await the french, who were wont to ish in companies, to seek their prey. forth came a captain battu, with his hundred men, and began to spoil. the said master, now lord of lyndsay, and the said william, suffered this without showing themselves or their company, until they had them more than a mile from kinghorn. then the horsemen began to break. perceiving this, the french drew together to a place called glennis house, and made for debate; some took the house, and others defended the close and yard. the hazard appeared very unlikely, for our men had nothing but spears, and were compelled to light upon their feet. the others were within dykes; and all had culverins: the shot was fearful to many, and divers were hurt. kirkaldy, perceiving men to faint and begin to recoil, cried, "fie, let us never live after this day, if we shall recoil for french schybalds[ ];" and so the master of lyndsay and he burst in at the yett, and others followed. the master struck with his spear at la battu, and glancing upon his harness, for fierceness stammered[ ] almost upon his knees. but, recovering suddenly, he fastened his spear, and bare the captain backward, who, because he would not be taken, was slain, and fifty of his company with him. those that were in the house, with some others, were saved, and sent to dundee to be kept. this mischance to the frenchmen made them more circumspect in scattering abroad in the country; and so the poor folk got some relief. [ ] mean fellows. [ ] staggered. to furnish the french with victuals, captain cullen, with two ships, travelled betwixt the south shore and kinghorn. for his wages, he spoiled kinghorn, kirkcaldy, and as much of dysart as he might. for remedy, two ships were sent from dundee, andrew sands, a stout and fervent man in the cause of religion, being in command. at the same time count de martigues arrived. without delay he landed himself, his coffers, and the principal gentlemen that were with him at leith, leaving the rest in his two ships until more convenient opportunity. but the said andrew, and his companion, striking sail and making as if they would cast anchor hard beside them, boarded them both, and carried them to dundee. in them were gotten some horse and much harness, with some other trifles; but of money we heard not. [sidenote: an english fleet arrives in the forth.] the french were incensed, and vowed the destruction of st. andrews and dundee. upon monday morning, the twenty-third day of january , they marched from dysart, and crossed the water of leven; ever keeping the sea-coast, for the sake of their ships and victuals. about twelve o'clock they espied ships. these had been seen that morning by us that were upon the land, but they were not known. monsieur d'oysel affirmed them to be french ships, and so the soldiers triumphed, shot their volley for salutation, and marched forward to kincraig, fearing no resistance. but shortly after, the english ships, meeting with captain cullen, seized him and his ships, and this made them muse a little. suddenly came master alexander wood, and assured monsieur d'oysel, that they were englishmen, and that they were the fore-riders of a greater number that followed for the support of the congregation. then might have been seen the riving of beards, and might have been heard such despite as cruel men are wont to spue forth when god bridleth their fury. weariness and the night constrained them to lodge where they were. they supped scarcely, because their ships were taken. in these were their victuals, and also the ordnance which they intended to have placed in st. andrews. they themselves durst not stray abroad to forage; and the laird of wemyss's carriage, which likewise was coming with provisions for them, was stayed. betimes in the morning, they retired towards kinghorn, and made more expedition in one day in retiring, than they had done in two in advancing. [sidenote: the french retire on edinburgh.] the storm, which had continued for the space of nearly a month, broke at the very time of the retreat of the french. many thought they would have been stayed by this until a reasonable company might have been assembled to have fought them; and with that purpose william kirkaldy cut the bridge of tullibody. but the french, expert enough in such work, took down the roof of a parish kirk, and made a bridge over the water called the devon. so they escaped, and came to stirling, and syne to leith. [sidenote: a greedy frenchman dies in a beef-tub.] in their retreat, the french spoiled the country and lost divers men; amongst whom there was one whose miserable end we must rehearse. a frenchman--captain or soldier, we cannot tell, but he had a red cloak and a gilt morion--entered upon a poor woman, that dwelt in the whyteside, and began to spoil. the poor woman offered him such bread as she had ready prepared. but he, in no ways content therewith, demanded the meal and a little salt beef with which she had to sustain her own life, and the lives of her poor children. neither could tears nor pitiful words mitigate the merciless man; he would have whatsoever he could carry. the poor woman perceiving him so bent, and that he stooped down into her tub to take forth such stuff as was within it, cowped up his heels, so that his head went down; and there he ended his unhappy life. * * * * * [sidenote: the negotiations between the congregation and the english court.] from this time forward, frequent mention will be made of the comfortable support that we, by god's providence, received in our greatest extremity from our neighbours of england. we therefore think it expedient simply to declare how that matter was first moved, and by what means it came to pass that the queen and council of england showed themselves so favourable to us. john knox had forewarned us, by his letters from geneva, of all dangers that he foresaw to ensue from our enterprise; and, when he came to dieppe, mindful of these, and revolving with himself what remedy god would please to offer, he had the boldness to write to sir william cecil, secretary of england. with him the said john had formerly been familiarly acquainted, and he intended thereby to renew acquaintance, and so to open his mind further.... to this letter no answer was made; for, shortly thereafter, the said john made forward to scotland by sea, where he landed on the third day of may; and had such success as has been declared in the second book. the said john, being in st. andrews after cupar moor, entered into deep discourse with the laird of grange: the dangers were evident, but the support was not easy to be seen. after many words, john knox burst forth as follows: "if england would foresee their own commodity, yea, if they did consider the danger wherein they themselves stand, they would not suffer us to perish in this quarrel; for france hath decreed no less the conquest of england than of scotland." after long reasoning, it was concluded betwixt them two that support should be craved of england. for that purpose, the said laird of grange first wrote to sir harry percy, and afterwards rode from edinburgh and spake with him. to him he made so plain demonstration of the apparent danger to england, that he took upon him to write to the secretary cecil; who with expedition returned answer back again. sir harry was given to understand that our enterprise was not altogether misliked by the council, albeit they desired further resolution on the part of the principal lords. when this was understood, it was concluded by some to write unto him plainly our whole purpose.... with this our letter, john knox wrote two, one to the secretary, and another to the queen's majesty herself.... these letters were directed by alexander whitelaw, a man that hath oft hazarded himself, and his all, for the cause of god, and for his friends when in danger for the same cause. within a day or two after the departure of the said alexander, there came a letter from sir harry percy to john knox, requiring him to meet him at alnwick, on the third of august, upon such affairs as he would not write of, nor yet communicate to any but the said john himself. while he was preparing himself for the journey, for secretary cecil had appointed to meet him at stamford, the frenchmen came forth furiously from dunbar, intending to have surprised the lords in edinburgh, as in the second book has been declared. this stayed the journey of the said john, until god had delivered the innocent from that great danger; and then was he (having master robert hamilton, minister of the evangel of jesus christ, in his company) directed from the lords, with full commission and instructions to set forth their whole cause and estate. the passage was from pittenweem, by sea. arriving at holy island, and being informed that sir harry percy was absent from the north, they addressed themselves to sir james crofts, then captain of berwick and warden of the east marches of england. they showed to him their credit and commission. he received them gently, and comforted them with his faithful counsel, which was that they should travel no farther, nor yet should they be seen in public, and that for divers considerations. first, the queen regent had her spies in england. secondarily, the queen and the council favoured our action, but would that all things should remain secret as long as possible. and last, said he, "i do not think it expedient that, when preachers are so scarce, ye two should be any long time absent from the lords. therefore," said he, "ye shall do best to commit to writing your whole mind and credit, and i shall promise to you, upon my honour, to have answer delivered to you and the lords, before ye yourselves could reach london. and where your letters cannot express all things so fully as your presence could, i, not only by my pen, but also by my own presence, shall supply the same, to such as will inform the council sufficiently of all things." the said john and master robert followed this counsel, for it was faithful and proceeded of love at that time. they tarried with sir james crofts very secretly, within the castle of berwick, for two days, when alexander whitelaw returned with answer to the lords, and to john knox, the tenor of whose letter was this:-- [sidenote: master cecil's letter to john knox.] "master knox,--non est masculus neque foemina, omnes enim, ut ait paulus, unum sumus in christo jesu. benedictus vir qui confidit in domino; et erit dominus fiducia ejus.[ ] "i have received your letters, at the time that i had thought to have seen yourself about stamford. what is the cause of your let, i know not. i forbear to descend to the bottom of things, until i may confer with such an one as ye are; and, therefore, if your chance shall be hereafter to come hither, i wish you to be furnished with good credit, and power to make good resolution. although my answer to the lords of congregation be somewhat obscure, upon further understanding ye shall find the matter plain. i need wish to you no more prudence than god's grace, whereof god send you plenty. and so i end. from oxford, the twenty-eighth of july .--yours as a member of the same body in christ,--w. cecil." [ ] there is neither male nor female; for, as saith paul, they are all one in christ jesus. blessed is the man who trusteth in the lord; and the lord will be his confidence.--_laing._ albeit the said john received this letter at berwick, yet would he answer nothing until he had spoken with the lords. them he found in stirling, and unto them he delivered the answer sent from the council of england.... the answer sent by master cecil was so general that many amongst us were despaired of any comfort to come from that country; and therefore were determined that they would request nothing further. john knox laboured for the contrary purpose; but he could prevail no further than that he should have licence and liberty to write as he thought best. and so took he upon him to answer for all, in form as follows:-- [sidenote: the reply of john knox to secretary cecil.] "... albeit master whitelaw, by his credit, master kirkaldy, by his letter, and i, both by letters and by that which i had learned from sir james crofts, did declare and affirm your good minds towards them and their support; yet could not some of the council--those, i mean, of greatest experience--be otherwise persuaded, but that this alteration in france had altered your former purpose. "it is not unknown to your countrymen what goodwill we three do bear to england. therefore we heartily desire of you that your favours and good minds may appear to the council by your own writings, rather than by any credit committed to any of us. the case of those gentlemen standeth thus:--unless money be furnished without delay to pay their soldiers, who in number now exceed five hundred, for their service by-past, and to retain another thousand footmen, with three hundred horsemen for a time, they will be compelled every man to seek the next way for his own safety. i am assured, as flesh may be of flesh, that some of them will take a very hard life before they compone[ ] either with the queen regent, or with france. but this i dare not promise at all, unless in you they see a greater forwardness to their support. "to support us may appear excessive, and to break promise with france may appear dangerous. but, sir, i hope ye consider that our destruction were your greatest loss; and that when france shall be our full master--which god avert!--they will be but slender friends to you. i heard béthencourt brag in his credit, after he had delivered his menacing letters to lord james stewart, that the king and his council would spend the crown of france, unless they had our full obedience. but most assuredly i know that unless by us they thought to make an entrance to you, they would not buy our poverty at that price. they labour to corrupt some of our great men by money, and some of our number are poor, as before i wrote, and cannot serve without support; some they threaten; and against others they have raised up a party in their own country. in the meantime, if ye lie by as neutrals, ye may easily conjecture what will be the end! some of the council, immediately after the sight of your letters, departed, not well appeased. the earl of argyll is gone to his country for putting order to the same,[ ] and is minded to return shortly with his forces, if assurance of your support be had. "therefore, sir, in the bowels of jesus christ, i require you to make plain answer, that the gentlemen here may know what to lippen to,[ ] and at what time their support should be in readiness. how dangerous is the drift of time in such matters, ye are not ignorant...." [ ] agree. [ ] that is, to make arrangements there. [ ] trust to. [sidenote: a practical answer.] with great expedition, answer was returned to this letter. it was requested that some men of credit should be sent from the lords to berwick, to receive money for immediate support; and promise was made that, if the lords of the congregation meant no otherwise than they had written, and if they would enter into league with honest conditions, they should neither lack men nor money to aid their just cause. upon receipt of this answer, master henry balnaves, a man of good credit in both the realms, was sent by the lords to berwick. he immediately returned with such a sum of money as served all the public affairs until the next november; john cockburn of ormiston was then sent for the second support, and receiving the same, unhappily fell into the hands of the earl bothwell, and was wounded, taken, and spoiled of a great sum. upon this mischance followed all the rest of our troubles before rehearsed.... in the negotiation of the secretary lethington with the queen and council of england, in which he travailed with no less wisdom and faithfulness than happy success, many things occurred that required the resolution of the whole lords. amongst these there was one of which we have made no previous mention. after the queen and council of england had concluded to send their army into scotland to expel the french, the duke of norfolk was sent to berwick, with full instructions, power, and commission, to do in all things, concerning the present affairs of scotland, as the queen and councillors in their own persons might do. hereupon, the said duke required such a part of the lords of scotland as had power and commission from the whole to meet him at such day and place as it might please them to appoint. the intimation came first to glasgow, by means of the master of maxwell. when this had been read and considered by the lords, it was agreed that they should meet at carlisle. this arrangement was made on the procurement of the said master of maxwell, for his own ease. [sidenote: john knox reproaches the lords for slackness and thoughtlessness.] letters were directed from the lords, lying at glasgow, to lord james, requiring him to repair towards them for the purpose named, with all possible expedition. when these letters had been read and advised upon, commandment was given to john knox to make the answer.... and he wrote as follows:--"i have written oftener than once to mr. henry balnaves concerning things that have misliked me in your slow proceedings in supporting your brethren, who many days have sustained extreme danger in these parts, as well as in making provision how the enemy might have been annoyed, when they lay in few numbers nigh to your quarters in stirling; and in making provision how the expectation of your friends, who long have awaited for your answer, might have been satisfied. but although i have complained of those things, of very conscience, i am yet compelled to signify unto your honours that, unless i shall espy some redress of these and other enormities, i am assured that the end shall be such as godly men shall mourn, and that a good cause shall perish for lack of wisdom and diligence. "in my last letters to mr. henry balnaves, i declared that your especial friends in england wonder that no greater expedition is made, the weight of the matter being considered. i wrote also that, if the fault were with the lord duke and his friends, the greatest loss should be his and theirs in the end. and now, i cannot cease both to wonder and lament that your whole council was so destitute of wisdom and discretion as to charge this poor man, the prior, to come to you to glasgow, and thereafter to go to carlisle, for such affairs as are to be entreated. was there none amongst you who did foresee what inconveniences might ensue his absence from these parts? "i cease to speak of the dangers from the enemy. your friends have lain in the firth now for fifteen days bypast, and what was their former travail is not unknown; yet they have never received comfort from any man, him only excepted, more than if they had lain upon the coast of their mortal enemy. do ye not consider that such a company needs comfort and provision from time to time? remove him, and who abideth that carefully will travail in that or any other weighty matter in these parts? did ye not further consider that he had begun to meddle with the gentlemen who had declared themselves unfriends heretofore; and also that order would have been taken for such as have been neutral? now, by reason of his absence, the former will escape without admonition, and the latter will retain their former liberty. i am assured that the enemy will not sleep, either in that or in other affairs. they will undermine you and your whole cause; and, especially, they will hurt this part of the country in revenge for their former folly. "if none of these causes should have moved you to have considered that such a journey, at such a time, was not meet for the lord james, or for them that must accompany him, discreet men would yet have considered that the men that have lien in their jacks, and travailed their horses continually the space of a month, require some longer rest than yet they have had, both for themselves and, especially, for their horses, before they should have been charged to take such a journey. the prior may, for satisfaction of your unreasonable minds, make the enterprise; but i am assured that he shall not be able to procure in all fife six honest men to accompany him. how that stands either with your honour or his safety, judge ye yourselves. "again, it is a wonder that ye did not consider to what pain and fashery[ ] ye put your friends of england; especially the duke of norfolk and his council, whom ye would cause to travel the most wearisome and fashous gait[ ] that is in england. in my opinion, whoever gave you that counsel either lacked right judgment in things to be done, or else had too much respect to his own ease, and too small regard to the travail and danger of his brethren. a common cause requireth a common concurrence, and that every man bear his burden proportionably. prudent and indifferent men espy the contrary in this cause, especially of late days; for the weakest are most grievously charged, and those to whom the matter most belongeth, and to whom justly the greatest burden is due, are in a manner exempted both from travail and expenses. [ ] trouble. [ ] troublesome route. "to speak the matter plainly, wise men do wonder what my lord duke's friends do mean; they are so slack and backward in this cause. in other actions, they have been judged stout and forward; and in this, which is the greatest that ever he or they had in hand, they appear destitute both of grace and of courage. i am not ignorant that they that are most inward in his counsels are enemies to god, and therefore cannot but be enemies to his cause. but the wonder is that he and his other friends do not consider that the tinsel of this godly enterprise will mean the rooting of them and their posterity from this realm. considering, my lords, that by god's providence ye are joined with the duke's grace in this common cause, do ye admonish him plainly of the danger to come. will him to beware of the counsel of those that are plainly infected with superstition, with pride, and with venom of particular profits. if he do not this at your admonition, he shall smart, before he be aware; if ye cease to put him in mind of his duty, it may be that, for your silence, ye shall drink some portion of the plague with him...." upon the receipt of this letter, and consultation thereupon, a fresh decision was made; to wit, that the lords would visit the duke of norfolk at berwick, where he was. thus far have we digressed from the style of the history, to let the posterity that shall follow understand by what instruments god wrought the familiarity and friendship that afterwards we found in england. now we return to our former history. * * * * * [sidenote: after the french retreat from fife.] the parts of fife set at freedom from the bondage of those bloody worms, solemn thanks unto god, for his mighty deliverance, were given in st. andrews. shortly after, the earl of arran and lord james apprehended the lairds of wemyss, seafield, balgonie, and durie, and others that had assisted the french. they were, however, soon set at freedom, upon conditions that they never intended to keep: for such men have neither faith nor honesty. mr. james balfour, who was the greatest practiser, escaped. the english ships multiplied daily, until they were able to keep the whole firth. this enraged the french and the queen regent, and they began to execute their tyranny upon the parts of lothian that lay near to edinburgh. [sidenote: at berwick, the lords make a contract with england.] in the middle of february , the lord james, lord ruthven, the master of maxwell, the master of lyndsay, master henry balnaves, and the laird of pittarrow were directed to england, from the duke's grace and the congregation. all these, except the master of maxwell, departed with their honest companies and commission by sea to berwick. there they were met by the duke of norfolk, lieutenant to the queen's majesty of england, and with him a great company of the gentlemen of the north, and some also of the south, having full power to contract with the nobility of scotland. this they did, upon such conditions as in the contract are specified. and because we have heard the malicious tongues of wicked men make false report of our action, we have faithfully and truly inserted in this our history the said contract, that the memory thereof may bide to our posterity. they may judge with indifference whether we have done anything prejudicial to our commonwealth, or yet contrary to that dutiful obedience which true subjects owe to their superiors--superiors whose authority ought to defend and maintain the liberty and freedom of the realms committed to their charge; and not to oppress and betray these to strangers. the tenor of our contract follows. [sidenote: the principal clauses of the treaty of berwick.] "... the queen's majesty, having sufficiently understood, as well by information sent from the nobility of scotland, as by the manifest proceedings of the french, that they intend to conquer the realm of scotland, suppress the liberties thereof, and unite the same unto the crown of france perpetually, contrary to the laws of the same realm, and to the pacts, oaths, and promises of france; and being thereto most humbly and earnestly required by the said nobility, for and in name of the whole realm, shall accept the said realm of scotland, the duke of chatelherault, earl of arran, being declared by act of parliament in scotland to be heir-apparent to the crown thereof, and the nobility and subjects thereof, unto her majesty's protection and maintenance, only for preservation of the same in their freedoms and liberties, and from conquest during the time that the marriage shall continue betwixt the queen of scots and the french king, and a year after. and, for expelling out of the same realm such as presently and apparently go about to practise the said conquest, her majesty shall with all speed send unto scotland a convenient aid of men of war, on horse and foot, to join with the power[ ] of scotsmen; with artillery, munition, and all other instruments of war meet for the purpose, as well by sea as by land, not only to expel the present power of french within that realm, oppressing the same, but also to stop, as far as conveniently may be, all greater forces of french from entering therein for the like purpose. her majesty shall continue her aid to the said realm, nobility, and subjects of the same, unto the time that the french, being enemies to the said realm, are utterly expelled thence. her majesty shall never transact, compone, nor agree with the french, nor conclude any league with them, unless the scots and the french shall be agreed; that the realm of scotland may be left in due freedom by the french. nor shall her majesty leave off the maintenance of the said nobility and subjects, whereby they might fall as a prey into their enemies' hands, as long as they shall acknowledge their sovereign lady and queen, and shall indure[ ] themselves to maintain the liberty of their country, and the estate of the crown of scotland. and, if any forts or strengths within the realm be won out of the hands of the french at this present time, or at any time hereafter, by her majesty's aid, the same shall be immediately demolished by the said scotsmen, or delivered to the said duke and his party foresaid, at their option and choice. nor shall the power of england fortify within the ground of scotland, being out of the bounds of england, but by the advice of the said duke, nobility, and estates of scotland. [ ] forces. [ ] remain of firm purpose. "for which causes, and in respect of her majesty's most gentle clemency and liberal support, the said duke, and all the nobility, as well such as be now joined, as such as shall hereafter join with him for defence of the liberty of that realm, shall, to the uttermost of their power, aid and support her majesty's arm against the french, and their partakers,[ ] with horsemen and footmen, and with victuals, by land and by sea, and with all manner of other aid to the best of their power, and so shall continue during the time that her majesty's army shall remain in scotland. they shall be enemy to all such scotsmen and french as shall in anywise show themselves enemies to the realm of england in respect of the aiding and supporting of the said duke and nobility in the delivery of the realm of scotland from conquest. they shall never assent nor permit that the realm of scotland shall be conquered, or otherwise knit to the crown of france than it is at this present time only by the marriage of the queen their sovereign to the french king, and by the laws and liberties of the realm, as it ought to be.... [ ] allies. "and, finally, the said duke and the nobility joined with him certainly perceiving that the queen's majesty of england is thereunto moved only upon respect of princely honour and neighbourhood for the defence of the freedom of scotland from conquest, and not of any other sinister intent, do by these presents testify and declare that neither they nor any of them mean by this count to withdraw any due obedience to their sovereign lady the queen, or to withstand the french king, her husband and head, in any lawful thing that, during the marriage, shall not tend to the subversion and oppression of the just and ancient liberties of the said kingdom of scotland; for preservation whereof, both for their sovereign's honour, and for the continuance of the kingdom in ancient estate, they acknowledge themselves bound to spend their goods, lands, and lives...." [sidenote: the regent lays waste the country.] shortly after this contract was completed, our pledges were delivered to master winter, admiral of the navy[ ] that came to scotland, a man of great honesty, so far as ever we could espy of him, and these were safely convoyed to newcastle. then the english began to assemble near the border; and the french and queen regent, informed of this, began to destroy what they could in the towns and country about. the whole victuals they carried to leith; the mills they broke; the sheep, oxen, and kine, yea, the horses of poor labourers, they made all to serve their tyranny. in the end, they left nothing undone which very enemies could have devised, except that they demolished not gentlemen's houses, and burnt not the town of edinburgh: in this particular, god bridled their fury, to let his afflicted understand that he took care of them. [ ] fleet. before the coming of the land army, the french passed to glasgow, and destroyed the country thereabout. the tyranny used by the marquis upon a poor scottish soldier is fearful to hear, and yet his act may not be omitted. they would give no silver to the poor men, and so they were slow to depart from the town; and, albeit the drum was beaten, the ensign could not be got. a poor craftsman, who had bought for his victuals a grey loaf and was eating a morsel of it, was putting the rest of it in his bosom. the tyrant came to him, and with the poor caitiff's own whinger first struck him in the breast, and afterwards cast it at him. the poor man staggering and falling, the merciless tyrant ran him through with his rapier, and thereafter commanded him to be hung over the stair. lord, thou wilt yet look, and recompense such tyranny; however contemptible the person was! on the second of april, in the year of god , the army by land entered scotland. its conduct was committed to the lord grey, who had in his company the lord scrope, sir james crofts, sir harry percy, and sir francis lake; many other captains and gentlemen having charge, some of footmen, some of horsemen. the army by land was estimated at ten thousand men. the queen regent and some others of her faction had passed to the castle of edinburgh. at preston the english were met by the duke's grace, the earl of argyll (huntly came not until the siege was confirmed), lord james, the earls of glencairn and monteith, lords ruthven, boyd, and ochiltree, and all the protestant gentlemen of west fife, angus, and mearns. for a few days the army was great. [sidenote: the siege of leith: april .] after two days' deliberation at inveresk, the whole camp marched forward with ordnance and all preparation necessary for the siege, and came to restalrig upon palm sunday evening. the french had put themselves in battle array upon the links without leith, and had sent forth their skirmishers. these, beginning before ten o'clock, continued skirmishing until after four o'clock in the afternoon, when some horsemen of scotland and some of england charged upon them. but, because the principal captain of the horsemen of england was not present, the whole troop durst not charge, and so the overthrow and slaughter of the french was not so great as at one time it appeared to be. the great battle was once at the trot; but when the french perceived that the great force of the horsemen stood still, and charged not, they returned and gave some resource to their fellows that fled. thus there fell in that defeat only about three hundred frenchmen. god would not give the victory so suddenly, lest man should glory in his own strength. this small victory put both the english and scots in too great security, as the issue declared. the french enclosed within the town, the english army began to plant their pavilions betwixt leith and restalrig. the ordnance of the town, and especially that which lay upon st. anthony's steeple, caused them great annoyance; and eight cannon were bent against this place. these shot so continually, and so accurately, that, within few days, that steeple was condemned, and all the ordnance on it was dismounted. this made the englishmen somewhat more negligent than it became good men of war to have been; for, perceiving that the french made no pursuit outside their walls, they got the idea that they would never ish more. some of the captains for pastime, went to the town:[ ] the soldiers, for their ease, laid their armour aside, and, as men beyond danger, fell to the dice and cards. so, upon easter monday, at the very hour of noon, when the french ished, both on horse and foot, and entered into the english trenches with great violence, they slew or put to flight all that were found there. [ ] that is, to edinburgh. the watch was negligently kept, and succour was slow, and long in coming; the french, before any resistance was made, approached almost to the great ordnance. but then the horsemen trooped together, and the footmen got themselves in array, and so repulsed the french back again to the town. but the slaughter was great: some say it exceeded double of that which the french received the first day. and this was the fruit of their security and ours. matters were afterwards remedied; for the englishmen, most wisely considering themselves not able to besiege the town at all points, made mounds at divers quarters of it. in these, they and their ordnance lay in as good strength as did the enemy within the town. the common soldiers kept the trenches, and had the said mounds for their safeguard and refuge, in case of any greater pursuit than they were able to sustain. the patience and stout courage of the englishmen, but principally of the horsemen, is worthy of all praise: for where was it ever heard that eight thousand (they that lay in camp never exceeded that number) should besiege four thousand of the most desperate cut-throats that were to be found in europe, and lie so near to them in daily skirmishing, for the space of three months and more. the horsemen kept watch night and day, and did so valiantly behave themselves that the french got no advantage from that day until the day of the assault. in the meantime, another bond to defend the liberty of the evangel of christ was made by all the nobility, barons, and gentlemen, professing christ jesus in scotland, and by divers others that joined with us in expelling the french army.... this contract and bond came not only to the ears but to the sight of the queen dowager. thereat she stormed not a little, and said, "the malediction of god i give unto them that counselled me to persecute the preachers, and to refuse the petitions of the best part of the true subjects of this realm. it was said to me that the english army could not lie in scotland ten days; but they have lain nearly a month now, and are more likely to remain than the first day they came." they that gave such information to the queen, spoke as worldly wise men, and as things appeared to have been. for, the country being almost in all parts wasted, the victuals within reach of leith either brought in to their stores or else destroyed, and the mills and other places cast down, it appeared that the camp could not have been furnished, unless it had been by their own ships. that could not have been for any long continuance of time, and so would have been of little comfort. but god confounded all worldly wisdom, and made his own benediction as evidently to appear as if, in a manner, he had fed the army from above. in the camp all the time that it lay, after eight days had passed, all kinds of victuals were more abundant, and of more easy prices, than they had been in edinburgh at any time in the two previous years, or yet have been in that town to this day. the people of scotland so much abhorred the tyranny of the french that they would have given their substance to have been rid of that chargeable burden which our sins had provoked god to lay upon us--in giving us into the hands of a woman, whom our nobility, in their foolishness, sold unto strangers, and with her the liberty of the realm.... [sidenote: the assault upon leith is unsuccessful.] the camp abounding in all necessary provision, arrangements were made for the confirmation of the siege; and the trenches were drawn as near to the town as they well might be. the great camp removed from restalrig to the west side of the water of leith; and the cannons were planted for the bombardment, and shot at the south-west wall. but all was earth, and the breach was not made so great during the day but that it was sufficiently repaired at night. the english, beginning to weary, determined to give the brush and assault. this they did, upon the seventh day of may, beginning before daylight, and continuing until it was near seven o'clock. albeit the english and scottish, with great slaughter of the soldiers of both, were repulsed, there was never a sharper assault given at the hands of so few. the men that assaulted the whole two quarters of the town exceeded not a thousand, and yet they silenced the whole block-houses; yea, they once put the french clean off their walls, and were upon both the east and west block-houses. but they had not sufficient backing. their ladders wanted six quarters of the proper height; and so, while the foremost were compelled to fight upon the top of the wall, their fellows could not get up to support them. thus they were dung back again, by overwhelming numbers, when it was thought that the town was won. [sidenote: sir james crofts is blamed.] sir james crofts was blamed by many for not doing his duty that day. he, with a sufficient number of most able men, had been instructed to assault the north-west quarter upon the sea-side, where, at low-water, as at the time of the assault, the passage was easy: but neither he nor his approached the quarter appointed. at their first coming in, he had spoken with the queen regent at the front block-house of the castle of edinburgh. whether she had enchanted him we knew not, but we suspected so that day. he certainly deceived the expectation of many, and, so far as man could judge, was the cause of that great repulse.... all the time of the assault, which was both terrible and long, the queen regent sat upon the fore-wall of the castle of edinburgh; and when she perceived our overthrow, and that the ensigns of the french were again displayed upon the walls, she gave a guffaw of laughter, and said, "now will i go to the mass, and praise god for that which my eyes have seen!" the french, proud of the victory, stripped naked all the slain, and laid their dead carcases in the hot sun along their wall, where they suffered them to lie more days than one. when the queen regent looked towards this, she hopped for mirth and said, "yonder are the fairest tapestries that ever i saw: i would that the whole fields that are betwixt this place and yon were strewn with the same stuff." this act was seen by all, and her words were heard by some, and misliked by many. against this, john knox spake openly in pulpit, and boldly affirmed, that god would revenge that contumely done to his image, not only on the furious and godless soldiers, but even on such as rejoiced thereat. and that which actually happened did declare that he was not deceived, for within a few days thereafter the queen regent was smitten with disease. [sidenote: the siege is continued. illness of the queen regent.] the duke of norfolk, who then lay at berwick, commanded the lord grey to continue the siege, and promised that he should not lack men, so long as any were to be had betwixt trent and tweed; so far was he lieutenant.... while the siege thus continued, a sudden fire chanced in leith, and this devoured many houses and much victual. thus did god begin to fight for us, as the lord erskine in plain words said to the queen regent. "madam," quoth he, "i can say no more; but seeing that men may not expel unjust possessors from this land, god himself will do it; for yon fire is not kindled by man." these words offended the queen regent not a little. her sickness daily increasing, she used great craft that monsieur d'oysel might be permitted to speak with her. belike she wished to bid him farewell, for of old their familiarity had been great; but that was denied. then she wrote as if to her chirurgeon and apothecary, explaining her sickness and requiring drugs. the letter being presented to the lord grey, he espied craft. few lines being written above and much white paper left, he said, "drugs are abundant and fresher in edinburgh than they can be in leith: there lurks here some other mystery." by holding the paper to the fire, he perceived some writing appear, and this he read. but what it was, no other man can tell; for he burnt the bill immediately, and said to the messenger, "albeit i have been her secretary, yet tell her i shall keep her counsel. but say to her, such wares will not sell in a new market." [sidenote: the regent expresses repentance, and receives godly instruction.] when the queen received this answer, she was not content; and travailed earnestly that she might speak with the earls of argyll, glencairn, and marischall, and with the lord james. after deliberation, it was thought expedient that they should speak with her, but not altogether, lest some part of the guisian practice had lurked under the colour of such friendship. she expressed to them all regret that she had behaved herself so foolishly, and had compelled them to seek the support of others rather than of their own sovereign; and she said that she sore repented that ever it came to that extremity. but hers was not the wyte.[ ] her action had been dictated by the wicked counsel of her friends on the one part, and the earl of huntly upon the other; if he had not been there, she would have fully agreed with them at their communing at preston. they gave her what counsel and comfort they could in that extremity, and willed her to send for some godly learned man, of whom she might receive instruction; for these ignorant papists that were about her, understood nothing of the mystery of our redemption. upon their motive, john willock was sent for. with him she talked a reasonable space, and he did plainly show to her the virtue and strength of the death of jesus christ, as well as the vanity and abomination of the mass. she did openly confess that there was no salvation but in and by the death of jesus christ. we heard not her confession concerning the mass. [ ] blame. [sidenote: death of the queen regent.] some said the queen was anointed in the papistical manner, a sign of small knowledge of the truth, and of less repentance of her former superstition. yet, howsoever it was, christ jesus got no small victory over such an enemy. for, albeit she had formerly avowed that, in despite of all scotland, the preachers of jesus christ should either die or be banished the realm, she was compelled not only to hear that christ jesus was preached, and all idolatry openly rebuked, and in many places suppressed, but also she was constrained to hear one of the principal ministers within the realm, and to approve the chief head of our religion, wherein we dissent from all papists and papistry. shortly thereafter she finished her unhappy life; unhappy, we say, for scotland, from the first day she entered into it, to the day she departed this life, which was the ninth of june, the year of god .... [sidenote: peace with france is concluded.] upon the sixteenth day of june, after the death of the queen regent, there came to scotland monsieur randan, and with him the bishop of valance, in commission from france, to entreat of peace. their negotiation was longsome; for both england and we, fearing deceit, sought by all means that the contract should be sure. they, upon the other part, intending to gratify those who had sent them and meant nothing but mere falseness, protracted time to the uttermost, even while those in leith were very scarce of victuals, and those on inchkeith would have perished, had not they by policy got a ship with victuals, and some munition. yet in the end peace was concluded.... [sidenote: the english army is withdrawn, with honours.] peace proclaimed, immediate provision was made for transporting the french to france. the most part were put into the english ships, and these also carried with them the whole spoil of leith. that was the second benefit which leith received from their late promised liberty; the end is not yet come. the english army by land departed on the sixteenth day of july, in the year of god . the most part of our protestant nobility, honorably convoyed them, and in very deed they had well deserved this honour. the lord james would not leave the lord grey and the other noblemen of england, until they had entered berwick. after that, the council began to look upon the affairs of the commonwealth, as well as upon the matters that might concern the stability of religion.... [sidenote: public thanksgiving in st. giles's kirk.] a day was appointed, when the whole nobility and the greatest part of the congregation assembled in st. giles's kirk in edinburgh, and there, after the sermon made for that purpose, public thanks was given unto god for his merciful deliverance, in form as follows:-- "o eternal and everlasting god, father of our lord jesus christ, who hast not only commanded us to pray, and promised to hear us, but also dost will us to magnify thy mercies, and to glorify thy name when thou showest thyself pitiful and favourable unto us, especially when thou deliverest us from desperate dangers, ... we ought not to forget, nor can we, in what miserable estate stood this poor country, and we the just inhabitants thereof, not many days past.... out of these miseries, o lord, neither our wit, policy, nor strength could deliver us; yea, they did show unto us how vain is the help of man, where thy blessing gives not victory. in these our anguishes, o lord, we made suit unto thee, we cried for thy help, and we proclaimed thy name, as thy troubled flock persecuted for thy truth's sake. mercifully hast thou heard us.... and thou hast looked upon us as pitifully as if we had given unto thee most perfect obedience, for thou hast disappointed the counsels of the crafty, thou hast bridled the rage of the cruel, and thou hast of thy mercy set this our perishing realm at reasonable liberty. oh, give us hearts--thou lord, that only givest all good gifts--with reverence and fear, to meditate upon thy wondrous works lately wrought before our eyes.... "we beseech thee, therefore, o father of mercies, that, as of thy undeserved grace thou hast partly removed our darkness, suppressed idolatry, and taken from above our heads the devouring sword of merciless strangers, it would so please thee to proceed with us in this thy grace begun. albeit that in us there is nothing that may move thy majesty to show us thy favour, o yet for the sake of christ jesus, thy only well-beloved son, whose name we bear, and whose doctrine we profess, we beseech thee never to suffer us to forsake or deny this thy truth which now we profess.... and seeing that nothing is more odious in thy presence, o lord, than is ingratitude and violation of an oath and covenant made in thy name; and seeing that thou hast made our confederates of england the instruments by whom we are now set at liberty, and that to them we, in thy name, have promised mutual faith again, let us never fall to that unkindness, o lord, that either we shall declare ourselves unthankful unto them, or profaners of thy holy name. confound the counsels of them that go about to break that most godly league contracted in thy name, and retain thou us so firmly together by the power of thy holy spirit, that satan shall never have power to set us again at variance or discord. give us thy grace to live in that christian charity which thy son, our lord jesus, has so earnestly commanded to all members of his body; that other nations, provoked by our example, may set aside all ungodly war, contention, and strife, and study to live in tranquillity and peace, as it becomes the sheep of thy pasture, and the people that daily look for final deliverance by the coming again of our lord jesus; to whom with thee, and the holy spirit, be all honour, glory, and praise, now and ever. amen." [sidenote: preachers and superintendents are appointed.] after this, the commissioners of burghs, with some of the nobility and barons, were appointed to see to the equal distribution of ministers, and to change and transpose as the majority should think expedient. thus john knox was appointed to edinburgh; christopher goodman, who during the most part of the troubles had remained in ayr, was appointed to st. andrews; adam heriot to aberdeen; master john row to perth; paul methven, of whom no infamy was then known, to jedburgh; william christison to dundee; david ferguson to dunfermline; and master david lindsay to leith. there were nominated as superintendents master john spottiswood for lothian; master john winram for fife; master john willock for glasgow; the laird of dun for angus and mearns; and master john carswell for argyll and the isles. it was agreed that these should be elected upon certain days fixed, unless the districts to which they were to be appointed could in the meantime find out men more able and sufficient, or else show such causes as might inable[ ] them for that dignity. [ ] disqualify. [sidenote: the first protestant parliament.] the parliament approaching, due notification was made by the council to all such as by law and ancient custom had or might claim to have vote therein. the assembly was great, notwithstanding that certain of those that are called spiritual lords, as well as some temporal lords, did contemptuously absent themselves. the chief pillars of the papistical kirk gave their presence, such as the bishops of st. andrews, dunblane, and dunkeld, with others of the inferior sort. there were, besides, those that had renounced papistry, and openly professed jesus christ with us; such as the bishop of galloway, the abbots of lindores, culross, inchcolm, newbattle, and holyroodhouse; the prior of st. andrews, coldingham, and st. mary's isle; the sub-prior of st. andrews, and divers others whom we observed not. [sidenote: john knox preaches, and reformation is agreed upon.] at the time of parliament, john knox taught publicly from the prophet haggai. the doctrine was proper for the time; and the preacher was so special and so vehement in its application, that some who had greater respect to the world than to god's glory, feeling themselves pricked, said in mockage, "we must now forget ourselves, and bear the barrow to build the houses of god." god be merciful to the speaker; for we fear that he shall have experience that the building of his own house, the house of god being despised, shall not be so prosperous, and of such firmness, as we desire it were. albeit some mocked, others were godly moved, and assembled themselves together to consult as to what things were to be proponed to that present parliament. after deliberation, the following supplication was offered by the barons, gentlemen, burgesses, and other true subjects of the realm, professing the lord jesus christ, to the nobility and estates of parliament. [sidenote: the protestants petition parliament.] "may it please your honours to bring to remembrance that, at divers and sundry times, we (with some of yourselves) most humbly made suit at the feet of the late queen regent for freedom and liberty of conscience, with godly reformation of abuses which, by the malice of satan and the negligence of men, have crept into the religion of god, and are maintained by such as take upon themselves the name of clergy. our godly and most reasonable suit was then disdainfully rejected, no small troubles ensuing, as your honours well know. but now, seeing that the necessity that then moved us doth yet remain, and moreover, that god in his mercy hath now put it into your hands so to regulate affairs that he may be glorified, this commonwealth quieted, and the policy thereof established, we cannot cease to crave at your hands the redress of such enormities as manifestly are, and of long time have been committed by the place-holders of the ministry and others of the clergy within this realm.... "we therefore, in the bowels of jesus christ, crave of your honours that either they be compelled to answer to our former accusations and to such others as we justly have to lay to their charge, or else that, all affection laid aside, ye, by the censement[ ] of this parliament, pronounce them to be as by us they are most justly accused, and cause them to be reputed so; especially, that they be decerned unworthy of honour, authority, charge, or cure within the kirk of god, and so from henceforth never entitled to vote in parliament. if ye do not so, then, in the fear of god and by the assurance of his word, we forewarn you that, as ye have laid a grievous yoke and an intolerable burden upon the kirk of god within this realm, so shall they be thorns in your eyes, and pricks in your sides, whom afterwards, when ye would, ye shall have no power to remove. god the father of our lord jesus christ give you upright hearts seeking his glory, and true understanding of what this day he who delivered you from bondage, both spiritual and temporal, craves of you by his servants. and your honours' answer we most humbly require." [ ] judgment. [sidenote: parliament calls for the confession of faith.] this our supplication being read in audience of the whole assembly, divers men were of divers judgments. as there were some that uprightly favoured the cause of god, so were there many that, for worldly respects, abhorred a perfect reformation--for how many within scotland that have the name of nobility are not unjust possessors of the patrimony of the kirk? yet, the barons and ministers were called, and commandment was given unto them to frame in plain and distinct heads the sum of that doctrine which they would maintain, and would desire that parliament to establish, as wholesome, true, and alone necessary to be believed and to be received within that realm. this commission they willingly accepted, and within four days they presented their confession of faith.[ ] [ ] knox embodies the full text of the confession at this point in his history. in the present edition it will be found, in full, in the appendix, _infra_. [sidenote: the confession of faith is considered by parliament, and solemnly ratified.] this our confession was publicly read, first in audience of the lords of articles, and afterwards in audience of the whole parliament. there were present a great number of the adversaries of our religion, such as the forenamed bishops, and some others of the temporal estate, and these were commanded, in gods name, to state any objection to that doctrine if they could. some of our ministers were present, standing upon their feet ready to have answered, in case any would have defended the papistry, and impugned our affirmations. no objection was made, but there was a day appointed for voting on that and other matters. again, our confession was read over, every article by itself, in the order in which these were written, and the vote of every man was required. of the temporal estate there only voted to the contrary the earl of atholl and the lords somerville and borthwick; and yet for their dissent they produced no better reason than, "we will believe as our fathers believed." the bishops (papistical, we mean) spake nothing. the rest of the whole three estates, by their public votes, affirmed the doctrine. many voted in the affirmative rather than in the negative, because the bishops would or durst say nothing to the contrary. for instance, this was the vote of the earl marischall,--"it is long since i have had some favour unto the truth, and since i have had a suspicion of the papistical religion; but, i praise my god, this day has fully resolved me in the one and the other. for, seeing that my lord bishops, who for their learning can, and for the zeal that they should bear to the truth, would, as i suppose, gainsay anything that directly repugns to the verity of god; seeing, i say, my lord bishops here present speak nothing contrary to the doctrine proponed, i cannot but hold it to be the very truth of god, and the contrary to be deceivable doctrine. and therefore, so far as in me lieth, i approve the one and damn the other. i do further ask of god that not only i but also all my posterity may enjoy the comfort of the doctrine that this day our ears have heard. yet more, i must vote, as it were by way of protestation, that, if any persons ecclesiastical shall after this oppose themselves to this our confession, they shall have no place or credit; considering that, they having long notice and full knowledge of this our confession, none are now found in lawful, free, and quiet parliament to oppose themselves to that which we profess. and therefore, if any of this generation pretend to do it after this, i protest that he be repute one that loveth his own commodity and the glory of the world, rather than the truth of god and the salvation of men's souls." [sidenote: the mass is prohibited.] after the ratification of our confession by the whole body of parliament, there were also pronounced two acts, the one against the mass and the abuse of the sacraments, and the other against the supremacy of the pope.... [sidenote: queen mary and the king of france do not ratify the acts of parliament.] these and other things done in lawful and free parliament, we dispatched sir james sandilands, lord st. john, to france, to our sovereigns, with the acts of the parliament, that by them they might be ratified, according to the promise of their highness's commissioners made to us by the contract of peace. how the said lord st. john was treated, we list not to rehearse; but, in any case, no ratification was brought by him to us. that we little regarded, or yet do regard; for all that we did was to show our dutiful obedience, rather than to beg of them any strength to our religion. that has full power from god, and needeth not the suffrage of man, except in so far as man hath need to believe it, if ever he shall have participation in the life everlasting. we must make answer, however, to such as since have whispered that it was but a pretended parliament and a privy convention, and no lawful parliament. their reasons are that the king and queen were in france; that there was neither sceptre, sword, nor crown borne, and so on, and that some principal lords were absent. we answer that the queen's person was absent, and that to no small grief of our hearts. but were not the estates of her realm assembled in her name? yea, had they not her full power and commission, yea, the commission and commandment of her head, the king of france, to convocate that parliament, and to do all things that may be done in lawful parliament, even as if our sovereigns had been there in proper person? that parliament, we are bold to affirm, was more lawful, and more free than any parliament that they are able to produce for a hundred years before it, or any that hath since ensued; for in it the votes of men were free, and given of conscience; in others, they were bought, or given at the devotion of the prince. [sidenote: the book of discipline.] parliament dissolved, consultation was had as to how the kirk, which had been altogether defaced by the papists, might be established in a good and godly policy. commission and charge were given to mr. john winram, sub-prior of st. andrews, master john spottiswood, john willock, mr. john douglas, rector of st. andrews, master john row, and john knox, to prepare a volume containing the policy and discipline of the kirk, much as in the confession of faith they had done in the matter of doctrine. this they did, and the book was presented to the nobility, who perused it for many days. some approved it, and were willing that it should have been set forth by a law. others, perceiving their carnal liberty and worldly commodity somewhat to be impaired by its provisions, grudged, insomuch that the name of the book of discipline became odious unto them.... there were none within the realm more unmerciful to the poor ministers than were they which had greatest rents of the churches. but in that we have perceived the old proverb to be true, "nothing can suffice a wretch;" and again, "the belly has no ears." yet the book of discipline was subscribed by a great part of the nobility.[ ]... [ ] see appendix. shortly after the parliament, the earls morton and glencairn, together with william maitland of lethington, younger, were sent to england as ambassadors from the council. the chief point of their commission was to crave earnestly the constant assistance of the queen's majesty of england against all foreign invasion, and to propose the earl of arran (who was then in no small estimation with us) to the queen of england in marriage.... [sidenote: the house of guise and the papists design further trouble.] the papists were proud, for they looked for a new army from france in the next spring, and there was no small appearance of this, if god had not otherwise provided. for france utterly refused to confirm the peace contracted at leith, would ratify no act of our parliament, dismissed the lord st. john without any resolute answer, and began to gather new bands of throat-cutters, and to make great preparation for ships. they further sent before them certain practisers to rouse up new troubles within this realm.... the certain knowledge of all these things came to our ears, and many were effrayed; for divers suspected that england would not be so forward in times to come, considering that their former expenses were so great. the principal comfort remained with the preachers. they assured us, in god's name, that god would in our hands perform that work in all perfection. he had mightily maintained its beginning, because it was not ours but his own. they therefore exhorted us that we should with constancy proceed to reform all abuses and to plant the ministry of the church, as by god's word we might justify it, and should then commit the success of all to our god, in whose power the disposition of kingdoms stands. this we began to do, for threatening troubles made us give ear to the admonitions of god's servants. [side note: death of the king of france: th december .] we had scarcely begun again to implore the help of our god, and to show some signs of our obedience unto his messengers and holy word, when, lo! the potent hand of god from above sent unto us a wonderful and most joyful deliverance. for unhappy francis, husband to our sovereign, suddenly perished of a rotten ear.... and we, who by our foolishness had made ourselves slaves to strangers, were restored again to freedom and the liberty of a free realm. oh! that we had hearts deeply to consider what are thy wondrous works, o lord, that we might praise thee in the midst of this most obstinate and wicked generation, and leave the memorial of the same to our posterity, who, alas! we fear, may forget thy inestimable benefits.... the death of this king made great alteration in france, england, and scotland. france was relieved and in some hope.... [sidenote: queen elizabeth declines the hand of the earl of arran.] the queen of england and the council sent back our ambassadors with answer that she would not marry hastily, and therefore desired the council of scotland, and the earl of arran, not to depend upon any hope thereof. what motives she had, we omit. the pride of the papists of scotland began to be abated, and some that had ever shown themselves enemies to us began to think, and plainly to admit in words, that they perceived god to fight for us. the earl of arran himself did more patiently abide the repulse of the queen of england, because he was not altogether without hope that the queen of scotland bare some favour unto him. and so he wrote to her, and for credit sent a ring which the said queen our sovereign knew well enough. the letter and ring were both presented to the queen and received by her. answer was returned to the earl, and after that he made no further pursuit in the matter: not the less, he bare it heavily in heart, and more heavily than many would have wissed.[ ] [ ] imagined. the certainty of the death of king francis was notified unto us both by sea and land. when the news was divulged and noised abroad, a general convention of the whole nobility was appointed to be holden at edinburgh on the fifteenth day of january following. the book of discipline was thereat perused over again, for some pretended ignorance, because they had not heard it. [sidenote: a public debate concerning the mass.] at that assembly, master alexander anderson, sub-principal of aberdeen, a man more subtle and crafty than either learned or godly, was called on but refused to dispute in his faith, abusing a place of tertullian to cloak his ignorance. it was answered to him, that tertullian should not prejudge the authority of the holy ghost, who, by the mouth of peter, commands us to give reason for our faith to every one that requires the same of us. it was further answered that we required neither him nor any man to dispute in any point concerning our faith, which was grounded upon god's word, and fully expressed within his holy scriptures; all that we believed without controversy. but we required of him, as of the rest of the papists, that they would suffer their doctrine, constitutions, and ceremonies to come to trial; and principally, that the mass, and the views thereof taught by them to the people, might be laid to the square rule of god's word, and unto the right institution of jesus christ.... while the said mr. alexander denied that the priest took upon him christ's office to offer for sin, as was alleged, a mass book was produced, and in the beginning of the canon were these words read: _suscipe, sancta trinitas, hanc oblationem, quam ego indignus peccator offero tibi vivo deo et vero, pro peccatis meis, pro peccatis totius ecclesiae vivorum et mortuorum, etc._[ ] now, said the reasoner, if to offer for the sins of the whole kirk was not the office of christ jesus, yea, the office that to him only might, and may appertain, let the scripture judge. and if a vile knave, whom ye call the priest, proudly takes the same upon him, let your own book witness. the said master alexander answered, "christ jesus offered the propitiatory, and that could none do but he; but we offer the remembrance." it was answered, "we praise god, that ye have denied a sacrifice propitiatory to be in the mass; and yet we offer to prove that, in more than a hundred places of your papistical doctors, this proposition is affirmed, 'the mass is a sacrifice propitiatory.' but, to the second part; where ye allege that ye offer christ in remembrance, we ask, first, unto whom do ye offer him? and next, by what authority are ye assured of well doing? with god the father, there is no oblivion: and if ye will yet shift and say that ye offer it not as if god were forgetful, but as willing to apply christ's merits to his church, we demand of you, what power and commandment ye have so to do? we know that our master, christ jesus, commanded his apostles to do that which he did in remembrance of him; but plain it is, that christ took bread, gave thanks, brake bread, and gave it to his disciples, saying, 'take ye, eat ye; this is my body which is broken for you. do this in remembrance of me,' etc. here ye find a commandment to take, to eat, to take and to drink; but to offer christ's body either for remembrance or application, we find not: and therefore, we say, to take upon you an office which is not given unto you, is unjust usurpation, and no lawful power." [ ] "holy trinity, accept this oblation, which i, an unworthy sinner, present to thee, the living and true god, for my own sins, and for the sins of the whole church of the quick and the dead, etc."--_laing._ the said master alexander, being more than astonished, would have shifted; but the lords called on him to answer directly. he answered that he was better seen in philosophy, than in theology. master john leslie, who then was parson of une, and now is lord abbot of lindores, was commanded to answer to the former argument: and he with great gravity began to answer, "if our master have nothing to say to it, i have nothing; for i know nothing but the canon law: and the greatest reason that ever i could find there is _nolumus_ and _volumus_." and yet we understand that now he is the only patron of the mass.... the nobility hearing that neither the one nor the other would answer directly, said, "we have been miserably deceived heretofore; for if the mass may not obtain remission of sins to the quick and to the dead, wherefore were all the abbeys so richly doted[ ] with our temporal lands." [ ] endowed. thus much we have thought good to insert here, because some papists are not ashamed nowadays to affirm that they with their reasons could never be heard; but that all that we did, we did by fine force; when the whole realm knows that we ever required them to speak their judgments freely, not only promising them protection and defence, but also that we should subscribe with them, if they by god's scriptures could confute us, and by the same word establish their assertions. [sidenote: lord james stewart is sent to queen mary.] at this assembly also, the lord james was appointed to go to france to the queen our sovereign; and a parliament was appointed to begin on the twentieth of may next following; for the return of the said lord james was looked for at that time.... he was plainly premonished that, if ever he condescended that the queen should have mass publicly or privately within the realm of scotland, he then betrayed the cause of god, and exposed religion to the uttermost danger that he could.... [sidenote: an embassy from france.] while lord james, we say, was in france, there came an ambassador from france, suborned, no doubt, with all craft that might trouble the estate of the religion. his demands were-- . that the league betwixt us and england should be broken. . that the ancient league betwixt france and scotland should be renewed. . that the bishops and kirkmen should be reponed in their former places, and be suffered to intromit with their livings. the council delayed answer until the parliament appointed in may. in the meantime, the papists of scotland practised with him.... [sidenote: satan gets a fall.] the papists, a little before the parliament, resorted in divers bands to the town, and began to brag that they would deface the protestants. when this was perceived, the brethren assembled together, and went in such companies, in peaceable manner, that the bishops and their bands forsook the causeway.[ ] the brethren understanding what the papists meant, convened in council in the tolbooth of edinburgh, on the twenty-seventh of may, in the year of god ; and, after consultation, concluded that a humble supplication should be presented unto the lords of secret council, and unto the whole assembly that then was convened.... upon this request, the lords of council made an act and ordinance answering to every head of the articles proponed. and thus gat satan the second fall, after he had begun to trouble the estate of religion, once established by law. his first assault was by the rascal multitude opposing themselves to the punishment of vice: the second was by the bishops and their bands, in which he thought utterly to have triumphed; and yet in the end he prospered worse than ye have heard. [ ] made no appearance in public. [sidenote: lord james has a narrow escape from the papists.] for, in the meantime, the lord james returned from france. besides his great expenses, and the loss of a box wherein was his secret poise, he barely escaped a desperate danger in paris. the papists at paris, hearing of his return from our sovereign, who then lay with the cardinal of lorraine at rheims, had conspired some treasonable act against him; for they intended either to beset his house by night, or else to have assaulted him and his company as they walked upon the streets. of this the said lord james was informed by the rheingrave, by reason of old familiarity betwixt them in scotland, and he took purpose suddenly and in good order to depart from paris. this he did on the second day after he had arrived there. he could not, however, depart so secretly, but that the papists had their privy ambushes. they had prepared a procession, which met the said lord and his company even in the teeth upon the pont du change; and knowing that the scots would not do the accustomed reverence unto them and their idols, they thought to have picked a quarrel. so, as one part passed by without moving of hat to anything that was there, they had suborned some to cry "huguenots," and to cast stones. but god disappointed their enterprise; for the rheingrave and other gentlemen, being with the lord james, rebuked the foolish multitude, and overrode some of the foremost. the rest were dispersed; and he and his company safely escaped, and came with expedition to edinburgh, while yet the lords and assembly were together. [sidenote: messages from the queen.] the lord james's coming was of great comfort to many godly hearts, and caused no little astonishment to the wicked: for, from the queen our sovereign he brought letters to the lords, praying them to entertain quietness, to suffer nothing to be attempted against the contract of peace made at leith, until her own home-coming, and to suffer the religion publicly established to go forward, etc. thereupon, the lords gave the french ambassador a negative answer to every one of his petitions.... [sidenote: queen mary's relations with queen elizabeth.] in the treaty of peace contracted at leith, there were certain heads that required the ratification of both the queens. the queen of england, according to her promise, subscription, and seal, performed the same without any delay, and sent it to our sovereign by her appointed officers. but our sovereign (whether because her own crafty nature so moved her, or because her uncle's chief counsellors so desired, we know not) with many delatours[ ] frustrated the expectation of the queen of england.... this somewhat exasperated the queen of england, and not altogether without cause; for the arms of england had formerly been usurped by our sovereign and her husband francis; and elizabeth, queen of england, was reputed little better than a bastard by the guisians. it had been agreed that this title should be renounced, but our proud and vain-glorious queen was not pleased with this, especially after her husband was dead. "the to-look[ ] of england shall allure many wooers to me," thought she, and the guisians and the papists of both the realms animated her not a little in that pursuit. the effect will appear sooner than the godly of england would desire; and yet is she that now reigneth over them neither good protestant nor yet resolute papist.[ ]... [ ] much procrastination. [ ] prospect. [ ] at the close of his third book, knox inserts the book of discipline. this will be found, in full, in the appendix, _infra_. book fourth.[ ] - . [ ] _the fourth book of the progress and continuance of true religion within scotland._ [sidenote: no dregs of papistry left in the reformed church of scotland.] in the former books, gentle reader, thou mayest clearly see how potently god hath performed, in these our last and wicked days, as well as in the ages that have passed before us, the promises that are made to the servants of god by the prophet isaiah, in these words:--"they that wait upon the lord shall renew their strength; they shall lift up the wings as the eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint." for what was our force? what was our number? yea, what wisdom or worldly policy was in us, to have brought to a good end so great an enterprise? our very enemies can bear witness. and yet in how great purity god did establish amongst us his true religion, as well in doctrine as in ceremonies! to what confusion and fear were idolaters, adulterers, and all public transgressors of god's commandments brought within short time? as touching the doctrine taught by our ministers, and as touching the administration of sacraments used in our churches, we are bold to affirm that there is no realm this day upon the face of the earth that hath them in greater purity: yea, we must speak the truth whomsoever we offend, there is no realm that hath them in like purity. however sincere be the doctrine that is taught by some, all others retain some footsteps of antichrist, and some dregs of papistry, in their churches, and the ministers thereof; but we, all praise to god alone, have nothing within our churches that ever flowed from that man of sin. this we acknowledge to be the strength given unto us by god, because we esteemed not ourselves wise in our own eyes, but, understanding our whole wisdom to be but mere foolishness before our god, laid it aside, and followed only that which we found approved by himself.... [sidenote: this book tells of declension.] whence, alas, cometh this miserable dispersion of god's people within this realm to-day, in may, anno . and why is now the just compelled to keep silence? why are good men banished, and why do murderers, and such as are known to be unworthy of decent society (were just laws put in due execution) bear the whole regiment and swing within this realm? because, we answer, the most part of us declined from the purity of god's word. almost immediately we began to follow the world, and so again to shake hands with the devil, and with idolatry, as in this fourth book we will hear. * * * * * while the papists were so confounded, that none within the realm durst avow the hearing or saying of mass, more than the thieves of liddesdale durst avow their stowth[ ] in presence of an upright judge, there were protestants who were not ashamed, at tables and other open places, to ask, "why may not the queen have her own mass, and the form of her religion? what can that hurt us or our religion?" and from these two, "why" and "what," at length sprang out this affirmative, "the queen's mass and her priests will we maintain: this hand and this rapier shall fight in their defence," etc.... if such dealings, which are common amongst our protestants, be not to prefer flesh and blood to god, to his truth, to justice, to religion, and to the liberty of this oppressed realm, let the world judge.... [ ] theft. [sidenote: the arrival, of mary, queen of scots: a distressing omen.] on the nineteenth day of august, in the year of god , betwixt seven and eight o'clock in the morning, mary queen of scotland, then widow, arrived with two galleys, from france. in her company (besides her gentlewomen, called the marys) were her three uncles, the duke d'aumale, the grand prior, and the marquis d'elboeuf. there accompanied her also de damville, son to the constable of france, with other gentlemen of inferior condition, besides servants and officers. the very face of heaven, at the time of her arrival, did manifestly proclaim what comfort was brought unto this country with her, to wit, sorrow, dolour, darkness, and all impiety; for in the memory of man, there had never been seen, on that day of the year, a more dolorous face of the heaven, than at her arrival. and so it continued for two days: besides the surface wet, and corruption of the air, the mist was so thick and so dark, that scarcely might any man espy another the length of two pair of boots. the sun was not seen to shine for two days before, nor for two days after. that fore-warning gave god unto us; but, alas, the most part were blind. at the sound of the cannons which the galleys shot, the multitude were notified, and happy was he or she that first might attain the presence of the queen. the protestants were not the slowest, and therein they were not to be blamed. because the palace of holyroodhouse was not thoroughly put in order (for her coming was more sudden than many looked for) she remained in leith until towards the evening, and then repaired thither. in the way betwixt leith and the abbey, the rebels of the crafts, who had violated the authority of the magistrates, and had besieged the provost, met the queen. but, because she was sufficiently instructed that all they had done was in despite of religion, they were easily pardoned. fires of joy were set forth all night, and a company of the most honest, with instruments of music and musicians, gave their salutations at her chamber window. the melody, as she alleged, liked her well; and she willed the same to be continued for some nights after. [sidenote: the mass is restored at holyrood.] with great diligence the lords repaired to the queen from all quarters. so there was nothing but mirth and quietness until the next sunday, the twenty-third of august, when preparation began to be made for that idol the mass to be said in the chapel. this pierced the hearts of all. the godly began to bolden; and men began openly to speak, "shall that idol be suffered again to take its place within this realm? it shall not." the lord lyndsay, then but master, with the gentlemen of fife, and others, plainly cried in the close, "the idolater priest should die the death," according to god's law. one that carried in the candle was evil effrayed; but then began flesh and blood to show itself. no papist, or yet any that came out of france, durst whisper. but the lord james, the man whom all the godly did most reverence, took upon him to keep the chapel door. his best excuse was that he would stop all scotsmen from entering in to the mass. but it was and is sufficiently known that the door was kept, that none should have entrance to trouble the priest. after the mass, he was committed to the protection of lord john of coldingham, and lord robert of holyroodhouse, who then were both protestants, and had communicated at the table of the lord. betwixt them two was the priest convoyed to his chamber. the godly departed with great grief of heart, and in the afternoon repaired to the abbey in great companies. these gave plain signification that they could not abide that the land, which god by his power had purged from idolatry, should be polluted again in their eyes. this understood, there began complaint upon complaint. the old dontibours[ ] and others that long had served in the court, who had no remission of sins except by virtue of the mass, cried that they would return to france without delay: they could not live without the mass. the queen's uncles affirmed the same. would to god that that menyie,[ ] together with the mass, had bidden good-night to this realm for ever. so would scotland have been rid of an unprofitable burden of devouring strangers, and of the malediction of god that has stricken and yet will strike in punishment of idolatry. [ ] courtezans. [ ] crowd of followers. [sidenote: the council tolerates the mass at court.] the council having assembled, disputation was had as to what was the next remedy. politic heads were sent to the gentlemen, with these and like persuasions, "why, alas, will ye chase our sovereign from us? she will incontinently return to her galleys; and what then shall all realms say of us? may we not suffer her a little while? we doubt not but that she shall leave it. if we were not assured that she might be won, we should be as great enemies to her mass as ye be. her uncles will depart, and then shall we rule all at our pleasure. would not we be as sorry to hurt the religion as would any of you?" with these and the like persuasions, the fervency of the brethren was quenched, and an act was framed.... [sidenote: the earl of arran protests.] this act and proclamation, penned and put in form by men who had formerly professed christ jesus (for papists had then neither power nor vote in the council) was publicly proclaimed at the market cross of edinburgh. no man reclaimed or made repugnance to it, with the sole exception of the earl of arran. he, in open audience of the heralds and people, protested that he dissented that any protection or defence should be made for the queen's domestics or any that came from france, permitting to them more than to any other subject to offend god's majesty, and to violate the laws of the realm. god's law had pronounced death against the idolater, and the laws of the realm had appointed punishment for sayers and hearers of the mass. "i here protest," said he, "that these ought to be universally observed, and that none should be exempted, until such time as a law, as publicly made and as consonant to the law of god, shall have disannulled the former." [sidenote: the protestants are beguiled.] this boldness somewhat exasperated the queen, and such as favoured her in that matter. as the lords, now called the lords of the congregation, repaired to the town, they at the first coming showed themselves wondrously offended that the mass was permitted; so that every man, as he came, accused those that had arrived before him: but after they had remained a certain time, they became as quiet as those who had preceded them. this perceived, a zealous and godly man, robert campbell of kinyeancleuch, said to the lord ochiltree, "my lord, ye are come almost the last of all; and i perceive by your anger that the fire-edge is not off you yet; but i fear that, after the holy water of the court shall be sprinkled upon you, ye shall become as temperate as the rest. i have been here five days, and at the first i heard every man say, 'let us hang the priest;' but, after they had been twice or thrice at the abbey, all that fervency was past. i think there must be some enchantment whereby men are bewitched." and, in very deed, so it came to pass. the queen's flattering words, ever crying, "conscience, conscience: it is a sore thing to constrain the conscience;" and the subtle persuasions of her supposts[ ] (we mean even of some who at one time were judged most fervently with us) blinded all men. they allowed themselves to believe--"she will be content to hear the preaching; and so no doubt but she may be won." and thus by all it was concluded to suffer her for a time. [ ] supporters. [sidenote: john knox preaches against the queen's mass.] on the next sunday, john knox, inveighing against idolatry, showed what terrible plagues god had laid upon realms and nations for this; and added that one mass (there were no more suffered at the first) was more fearful to him than if ten thousand armed enemies were landed in any part of the realm, for the purpose of suppressing the whole religion. "in our god," said he, "there is strength to resist and confound multitudes, if we unfeignedly depend upon him; and of this we have had experience heretofore. but when we join hands with idolatry, there is no doubt that both god's amicable presence and comfortable defence leave us, and what shall then become of us? alas, i fear that experience shall teach us, to the grief of many." at these words, the guiders of the court mocked, and plainly said that such fear was no point of their faith: it was outside his text, and was a very untimely admonition.... [sidenote: john knox reasons with the queen.] whether it was by counsel of others, or of the queen's own desire, we know not; but the queen spake with john knox, and had long reasoning with him, none being present except the lord james: two gentlewomen stood at the other end of the apartment. the sum of their reasoning was this. the queen accused him of having raised a part of her subjects against her mother and against herself. he had, she said, written a book against her just authority (she meant the treatise against the regiment of women) which she had, and she should cause the most learned in europe to write against it; he was the cause of great sedition and great slaughter in england; she was informed that all he did was by necromancy, and so on. the said john answered, "madam, it may please your majesty patiently to hear my simple answers. and first," said he, "if to teach the truth of god in sincerity, if to rebuke idolatry, and to will a people to worship god according to his word, be to raise subjects against their princes, then can i not be excused; for it has pleased god in his mercy to make me one, amongst many, to disclose unto this realm the vanity of the papistical religion, and the deceit, pride, and tyranny of that roman antichrist. but, madam, if the true knowledge of god and his right worshipping be the chief causes that must move men from their heart to obey their just princes, as it is most certain that they are, wherein can i be reprehended? i think, and am surely persuaded, that your grace has had, and presently has, as unfeigned obedience from such as profess jesus christ within this realm, as ever your father, or other progenitors had from those that were called bishops. and, touching that book which seemeth so highly to offend your majesty, it is most certain that i wrote it, and am content that all the learned of the world should judge of it. i hear that an englishman hath written against it, but i have not read him. if he have sufficiently improved my reasons, and established his contrary proposition, with as evident testimonies as i have done mine, i shall not be obstinate, but shall confess my error and ignorance. but to this hour i have thought, and yet think myself alone to be more able to sustain the things affirmed in that work, than any ten in europe shall be able to confute it." _queen mary._ ye think, then, that i have no just authority? _john knox._ please, your majesty, learned men in all ages have had their judgments free, and most commonly disagreeing from the common judgment of the world; such also have they published, both with pen and tongue, and yet they themselves have lived in common society with others, and have borne patiently with the errors and imperfections which they could not amend. plato, the philosopher, wrote his book of _the commonwealth_. in this he damned many things that then were maintained in the world, and required many things to be reformed; and yet he lived under such polities as then were universally received, without further troubling any state. even so, madam, am i content to do, in uprightness of heart, and with the testimony of a good conscience. i have communicated my judgment to the world; if the realm finds no inconvenience from the regiment of a woman, that which they approve shall i not disallow, further than within my own breast. i shall be as well content to live under your grace as paul was to live under nero; and my hope is that, so long as ye defile not your hands with the blood of the saints of god, neither i nor that book shall either hurt you or your authority: for, in very deed, madam, that book was written most especially against that wicked jezebel of england. _queen mary._ but ye speak of women in general. _john knox._ most true it is, madam, and yet it appeareth to me that wisdom should persuade your grace never to raise trouble for that which to this day hath not troubled your majesty, in person or in authority. of late years, many things, which before were holden stable, have been called in doubt; yea, they have been plainly impugned. but yet, madam, i am assured that neither protestant nor papist shall be able to prove that any such question was at any time moved in public or in secret. now, madam, if i had intended to have troubled your estate because ye are a woman, i might have chosen a time more convenient for that purpose than i can do now, when your own presence is within the realm. but now, madam, shortly to answer to the other two accusations. i heartily praise my god, through jesus christ, that satan, the enemy of mankind, and the wicked of the world, have no other crimes to lay to my charge, than such as the very world itself knoweth to be most false and vain. i was resident in england for only the space of five years. the places were berwick, where i abode two years; so long in newcastle; and a year in london. now, madam, if any man shall be able to prove that there was either battle, sedition, or mutiny in any of these places, during the time that i was there, i shall confess that i myself was the malefactor, and the shedder of the blood. further, madam, i am not ashamed to affirm that god so blessed my weak labours that, in berwick, where commonly before there used to be slaughter, by reason of quarrels that used to arise amongst soldiers, there was as great quietness, all the time that i remained there, as there is this day in edinburgh. and where they slander me of magic, necromancy, or of any other art forbidden by god, i have, besides my own conscience, all congregations that ever heard me as witnesses that i spake against such arts, and against those that use such impiety.... _queen mary._ but yet ye have taught the people to receive another religion than their princes can allow. how can that doctrine be of god, seeing that god commands subjects to obey their princes? _john knox._ madam, as right religion took neither original strength nor authority from worldly princes, but from the eternal god alone, subjects are not bound to frame their religion according to the appetites of their princes. oft it is that princes are the most ignorant of all others in god's true religion, as we may read in the histories of times before the death of christ jesus, as well as after. if all the seed of abraham should have been of the religion of pharaoh, to whom they were long subjects, i pray you, madam, what religion should there have been in the world? or, if all men in the days of the apostles should have been of the religion of the roman emperors, what religion should there have been upon the face of the earth? daniel and his fellows were subjects to nebuchadnezzar, and to darius, and yet, madam, they would not be of their religion: for the three children said, "we make it known unto thee, o king, that we will not worship thy gods." and daniel did pray publicly to his god against the expressed commandment of the king. and so, madam, ye may perceive that subjects are not bound to the religion of their princes, albeit they are commanded to give them obedience. _queen mary._ yea, but none of these men raised the sword against their princes. _john knox._ yet, madam, ye cannot deny that they resisted: for, in some sort, these resist that obey not the commandments that are given. _queen mary._ but yet, they resisted not by the sword. _john knox._ god, madam, had not given unto them the power and the means. _queen mary._ think ye, that subjects having power may resist their princes. _john knox._ if their princes exceed their bounds, madam, no doubt they should be resisted, even by power. for there is neither greater honour, nor greater obedience to be given to kings or princes, than god has commanded to be given to father and mother. but, madam, the father may be stricken with a frenzy, in which he would slay his own children. now, madam, if the children arise, join themselves together, apprehend the father, take the sword or other weapons from him, and finally bind his hands, and keep him in prison, until his frenzy be overpast; think ye, madam, that the children do any wrong? or, think ye, madam, that god will be offended with them that have stayed their father from committing wickedness? it is even so, madam, with princes that would murder the children of god that are subject unto them. their blind zeal is nothing but a very mad frenzy; and, therefore, to take the sword from them, to bind their hands, and to cast them into prison until they be brought to a more sober mind, is no disobedience against princes, but just obedience, because it agreeth with the will of god. at these words the queen stood as it were amazed, for more than quarter of an hour. her countenance altered, so that lord james began to entreat her, and to demand, "what has offended you, madam." at length she said, "well, then, i perceive that my subjects shall obey you, and not me; and shall do what they list, and not what i command: and so must i be subject to them, and not they to me." _john knox._ god forbid, that ever i take upon me to command any to obey me, or yet to set subjects at liberty to do what pleaseth them. but my travail is that both princes and subjects obey god. and think not, madam, that wrong is done to you when ye are willed to be subject to god. it is he that subjects people under princes, and causes obedience to be given to them; yea, god craves of kings that they be, as it were, foster-fathers to his church, and commands queens to be nurses to his people. and, madam, this subjection to god and to his troubled church is the greatest dignity that flesh can get upon the face of the earth, for it shall carry them to everlasting glory. _queen mary._ yea, but ye are not the kirk that i will nurse. i will defend the kirk of rome, for i think it is the true kirk of god. _john knox._ your will, madam, is no reason; neither doth your thought make of that roman harlot the true and immaculate spouse of jesus christ. wonder not, madam, that i call rome a harlot; for that church is altogether polluted with all kind of spiritual fornication, as well in doctrine as in manners. yea, madam, i offer myself further to prove that the church of the jews that crucified christ jesus, when it manifestly denied the son of god, was not so far degenerated from the ordinances and statutes which god gave by moses and aaron unto his people, as the church of rome is declined, and for more than five hundred years hath declined from the purity of that religion which the apostles taught and planted. _queen mary._ my conscience is not so. _john knox._ conscience, madam, requires knowledge; and i fear that right knowledge ye have none. _queen mary._ but i have both heard and read. _john knox._ so, madam, did the jews that crucified christ jesus read both the law and the prophets, and heard the same interpreted after their manner. have ye heard any teach, but such as the pope and his cardinals have allowed? ye may be assured that such will speak nothing to offend their own estate. _queen mary._ ye interpret the scriptures in one manner, and they interpret in another; whom shall i believe? and who shall be judge? _john knox._ ye shall believe god, that plainly speaketh in his word: and, farther than the word teaches you, ye shall believe neither the one nor the other. the word of god is plain in itself; and, if there appear any obscurity in one place, the holy ghost, who is never contrary to himself, explains the same more clearly in other places: so that there can remain no doubt, but to such as obstinately remain ignorant. and now, madam, take one of the chief points this day in controversy betwixt the papists and us. for example, the papists allege and boldly have affirmed that the mass is the ordinance of god, and the institution of jesus christ, and a sacrifice for the sins of the quick and the dead. we deny both the one and the other, and affirm that the mass, as it is now used, is nothing but the invention of man; and, therefore, is an abomination before god, and no sacrifice that ever god commanded. now, madam, who shall judge betwixt us two thus contending? there is no reason that either of the parties be believed farther than they are able to prove by insuspect witnessing. let them lay down the book of god and, by the plain words thereof, prove their affirmation, and we shall give them the plea granted. but so long as they are bold to affirm, and yet do prove nothing, we must say that, albeit all the world believe them, yet they believe not god, but receive the lies of men for the truth of god. what our master jesus christ did, we know from his evangelists: what the priest doeth at his mass, the world seeth. now, doth not the word of god plainly assure us that christ jesus neither said, nor yet commanded mass to be said at his last supper, seeing that no such thing as their mass is made mention of within the whole scriptures? _queen mary._ ye are ower sair[ ] for me, but if they were here that i have heard, they would answer you. [ ] too deep. _john knox._ madam, would to god that the learnedest papist in europe, and him whom ye would best believe, were present with your grace to sustain the argument; and that ye would patiently abide to hear the matter reasoned to the end; for then, i doubt not, madam, ye should hear the vanity of the papistical religion, and how small ground it hath within the word of god. _queen mary._ well, ye may perchance get that sooner than ye believe. _john knox._ assuredly, if ever i get that in my life, i get it sooner than i believe; for the ignorant papists cannot patiently reason, and the learned and crafty papists will never come to your audience, madam, to have the ground of their religion searched out. they know that they are never able to sustain an argument, unless fire, and sword, and their own laws be judges. _queen mary._ so say ye, but i cannot believe that. _john knox._ it has been so to this day; for how oft have the papists in this and other realms been required to come to conference, and yet it could never be obtained, unless they themselves were admitted as judges. therefore, madam, i must yet say again that they dare never dispute, but where themselves are both judge and party. whensoever ye shall let me see the contrary, i shall grant myself to have been deceived in that point. with this the queen was called to dinner, for it was afternoon. at departing, john knox said to her, "i pray god, madam, that ye may be as blessed within the commonwealth of scotland, if it be the pleasure of god, as ever deborah was in the commonwealth of israel." [sidenote: no results follow the queen's conference with knox.] of this long conference, whereof we only touch a part, there were divers opinions. the papists grudged, and feared that which they needed not. the godly, thinking that at least she would have heard the preaching, rejoiced; but they were utterly deceived, for she continued in her massing; and despised and quietly mocked all exhortations. some of his familiars demanded of john knox what he thought of the queen. "if there be not in her," said he, "a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate heart against god and his truth, my judgment faileth me...." the duke d'aumale returned with the galleys to france. the queen entered on her progresses, and in the month of september travelled from edinburgh to linlithgow, stirling, perth, dundee, and st. andrews; and all these parts she polluted with her idolatry. fire followed her very commonly in that journey. the towns propyned[ ] her liberally, and the french were enriched. [ ] presented gifts. [sidenote: the prodigality of edinburgh.] in the beginning of october, the queen returned to edinburgh, and on the day appointed she was received in the castle. great preparations were made for her entrance to the town. in farces, in masking, and in other prodigalities, fools would fain have counterfeited france. whatsoever might set forth her glory, that she heard and gladly beheld. the keys were delivered to her by a pretty boy, descending as it were from a cloud. the verses in her own praises she heard, and smiled. but when the bible was presented, and its praise declared, she began to frown: for shame she could not refuse it. but she did no better, for immediately she gave it to the most pestilent papist within the realm, to wit, to arthur erskine. since that day, the people of edinburgh have reaped as they sowed. they gave her some taste of their prodigality; and because the liquor was sweet, she has licked of that buist[ ] oftener than twice since. all men know what we mean: the queen cannot lack and the subjects have. [ ] brewing. [sidenote: the magistrates of edinburgh are imprisoned and deposed.] it hath been an ancient and a laudable custom in edinburgh that the provost, bailies, and council, after their election at michaelmas, cause public proclamation of the statutes and ordinances of the town. therefore archibald douglas, provost, edward hope, adam fullerton, mr. james watson, and david somer, bailies, made proclamation, according to the former statutes of the town, that no adulterer, no fornicator, no noted drunkard, no mass-monger, no obstinate papists that corrupted the people, such as priests, friars, and others of that sort, should be found within the town within forty-eight hours thereafter, under the pains contained in the statutes. this blown in the queen's ears, pride and maliciousness began to show themselves; for, without further intimation, the provost and bailies were charged to ward in the castle; and immediately commandment was given that another provost and other bailies should be elected. some gainstood the new election for a while, alleging that the provost and bailies whom they had chosen, and to whom they had given their oath, had committed no offence for which they ought justly to be deprived. but charge was doubled upon charge, and, no man being found to oppose the iniquity, jezebel's letter and wicked will were obeyed as law. so mr. thomas m'calzean was chosen. the man, no doubt, was both discreet and sufficient for that charge; but the deposition of the other was against all law. god be merciful to some of our own; for they were not all blameless that her wicked will was so far obeyed. a contrary proclamation was publicly made, to the effect that the town should be patent unto all the queen's lieges; and so murderers, adulterers, thieves, whores, drunkards, idolaters, and all malefactors, got protection under the queen's wings, under that colour, because they were of her religion. and so gat the devil freedom again, where before he durst not have been seen in daylight upon the common streets. "lord deliver us from that bondage." [sidenote: the mass is restored.] the devil, finding his reins loose, ran forward in his course; and the queen took upon her greater boldness than she and baal's bleating priests durst have attempted before. for, upon allhallow day, they blended their mass with all mischievous solemnity. the ministers, offended, declared in plain and public place the inconveniences that should ensue, and the nobility were sufficiently admonished of their duties. but affection caused men to call in doubt that wherein shortly before they had seemed to be most resolute, to wit, "whether subjects might put to their hand to suppress the idolatry of their prince." upon this question, there convened, in the house of mr. james macgill, the lord james, the earl of morton, the earl marischall, secretary lethington, the justice clerk, and the clerk of register. all reasoned for the part of the queen, affirming that the subjects might not lawfully take her mass from her. of the contrary judgment were the principal ministers, mr. john row, master george hay, master robert hamilton, and john knox.... the conclusion of that first reasoning was that the question should be put in form, and letters directed to geneva for the resolution of that church. therein john knox offered his labours; but secretary lethington, alleging that much depended on the information, said that he should write. but that was only to drive time, as the truth declared itself. the queen's party urged that the queen should have her religion free in her own chapel, that she and her household might do what they should list. the ministers both affirmed and voted to the contrary, adding that her liberty should be their thraldom before long. but neither could reason nor threatening move the affections of such as were creeping into credit, and the votes of the lords prevailed against those of the ministers. [sidenote: lord james stewart is sent to the borders.] for the punishment of theft and of reif,[ ] which had increased upon the borders and in the south, since the queen's arrival, the lord james was made lieutenant. some suspected that such honour and charge proceeded from the same heart and counsel as that by which saul made david captain against the philistines. but god assisted him, and bowed the hearts of men to fear and obey him. yea, the lord bothwell himself at that time assisted him. sharp execution was made in jedburgh, for twenty-eight of one clan and others were hanged at that justice court. bribes, buds, nor solicitation saved the guilty, if he could be apprehended; and god prospered the lord james in his integrity. he also spake with the lord grey from england at kelso, that good rule might be kept upon both the borders, and they agreed in all things. [ ] robbery. [sidenote: the behaviour of the queen.] before the return of the lord james, the queen one night took a fray[ ] in her bed, as if horsemen had been in the close, and the palace had been enclosed about. whether this proceeded of her own womanly fantasy, or men had put her in fear, for displeasure of the earl of arran, and for other purposes, as for the strengthening of the guard, we know not. but the fear was so great that the town was called to the watch. lords robert of holyroodhouse and john of coldingham kept the watch by turns. scouts were sent forth, and sentinels were commanded, under pain of death, to keep their stations. yet they feared, where there was no cause for fear: nor could ever any appearance or suspicion of such things be discovered. [ ] fright. shortly after the return of the lord james, sir peter mewtas came from the queen of england, with commission to require the ratification of the peace made at leith. his answer was even such as we have heard before--that she behoved to advise, and then should send answer. in presence of her council, the queen kept herself very grave, for, under the dule weed,[ ] she could play the hypocrite in full perfection; but as soon as ever her french fillocks,[ ] fiddlers, and others of that band, got the house alone, there might have been seen skipping not very comely for honest women. her common talk was in secret; she saw nothing in scotland but gravity, which repugned altogether to her nature, for she was brought up in joyousness, as she termed her dancing, and other things thereto belonging. [ ] apparel of mourning. [ ] giddy young women. [sidenote: the influence of the court is felt in the kirk.] the general assembly of the church was held in the december after the queen's arrival. there the rulers of the court began to draw themselves apart from the society of their brethren, and to sturr[ ] and grudge that anything should be consulted upon without their advices. master john wood, who had formerly shown himself very fervent in the cause of god, and forward in giving his counsel in all doubtful matters, plainly refused ever to assist the assembly again. at this many did wonder. the courtiers drew to them some of the lords, and would not convene with their brethren, as had been their former custom, remaining at the abbey instead. the principal commissioners of the churches, the superintendents, and some ministers went to see them at the abbot's lodging within holyroodhouse. both the parties began to open their grief. [ ] make disturbance. [sidenote: the ministers reproach the defaulting lords.] the lords complained that the ministers drew the gentlemen into secret councils without their knowledge. the ministers denied that they had done anything in secret, or otherwise than the common order commanded them; and accused the lords, the flatterers of the queen we mean, for not having kept convention with their brethren, considering that they knew the order, and that the same was appointed by their own advices, as the book of discipline, subscribed by the hands of the most part of them, would witness. some began to deny that ever they knew such a thing as the book of discipline; and also called in doubt whether it was expedient that such conventions should be held; for gladly would the queen and her secret council have had all assemblies of the godly discharged. the reasoning was sharp and quick on either part. the queen's faction alleged that it was suspicious to princes that subjects should assemble themselves and keep conventions without their knowledge. it was answered that the church did nothing without knowledge of the prince. the prince perfectly understood that within this realm there was a reformed church, and that they had their orders and appointed times of convention. "yea," said lethington, "the queen knew and knoweth it well enough; but the question is, whether the queen allows such conventions?" it was answered, "if the liberty of the church should stand upon the queen's allowance or disallowance, we are assured not only to lack assemblies, but also the public preaching of the evangel." that affirmative was mocked, and the contrary was affirmed. "well," said the other, "time will try the truth; but to my former words this will i add--take from us the freedom of assemblies, and take from us the evangel; for, without assemblies, how shall good order and unity in doctrine be kept? it is not to be supposed that all ministers shall be so perfect, but that they shall need admonition, concerning manners as well as doctrine. it may be that some shall be so stiff-necked that they will not admit the admonition of the simple. it may be that fault may be found with ministers, without just offence committed. yet, if order be not taken, both with the complainer and the persons complained upon, it cannot be avoided that many grievous offences shall arise. for remedy of these, general assemblies are necessary. there, the judgment and the gravity of many concur to correct or to repress the follies or errors of a few." the majority of the nobility and of the barons assented to this, and willed the reasoners for the part of the queen to desire that, if her grace were suspicious of anything that was to be dealt with in their assemblies, she should be pleased to send such as she would appoint, to hear whatsoever was proponed or reasoned. [sidenote: discussion concerning the book of discipline.] after that, the book of discipline was put forward, with request that it should be ratified by the queen's majesty. that was scripped at, and it was demanded, "how many of those that had subscribed that book would be subject unto it?" it was answered, "all the godly." "will the duke?" said lethington. "if he will not," answered the lord ochiltree, "i would that he were scraped out, not only from that book, but also from our number and company. for to what purpose shall labours be taken to put the kirk in order, and to what end shall men subscribe, and then never mean to keep a word of that which they promise?" lethington answered, "many subscribed there _in fide parentum_, as the bairns are baptized." john knox answered, "albeit ye think that scoff proper, yet, as it is most untrue, so is it most improper. that book was read in public audience, and by the space of divers days the heads thereof were reasoned, as all that here sit know well enough, and ye yourself cannot deny; no man was required to subscribe that which he understood not." "stand content," said one, "that book will not be obtained." "let god," said the other, "require the lack which this poor commonwealth shall have of the things therein contained, from the hands of such as stop the same." [sidenote: the barons sue for public order in regard to ecclesiastical benefices.] the barons, perceiving that the book of discipline was refused, presented certain articles to the council, requiring idolatry to be suppressed, their churches to be planted with true ministers, and some certain provision to be made for these, according to equity and conscience; for, until that time, the most part of the ministers had lived upon the benevolence of men. many held in their own hands the fruits that the bishops and others of that sect had formerly abused; and so some part was bestowed upon the ministers. but then the bishops began to grip again at that which most unjustly they called their own; for the earl of arran was discharged of st. andrews and dunfermline, with which, by virtue of a factory, he had formerly intromitted: and so were many others. therefore the barons required that arrangements might be made for their ministers. otherwise, they would obey the bishops no more, nor would they suffer anything to be taken for their use, more than they did before the queen's arrival. they verily supposed that the queen's majesty would keep promise made to them, not to alter their religion. that could not remain without ministers, and ministers could not live without provision. for these reasons, they heartily desired the council to provide some convenient order in that respect. [sidenote: the council agrees to divide the patrimony of the kirk.] the queen's flatterers were somewhat moved; for the rod of impiety was not then strengthened in her and their hands. so they began to practise; they wished to please the queen, and yet seem somewhat to satisfy the faithful. in the end, they devised that the churchmen[ ] should have intromission with two parts of their benefices, and that the third part should be lifted by such men as thereto should be appointed for [the necessities concerning the queen's majesty, and charges to be borne for the common weal of the realm, and sustentation of the preachers and readers.][ ]... [ ] that is, the papists in possession of benefices. [ ] knox here quotes, in full, the acts passed by the council. even in the beginning, the ministers, in their public sermons, opposed themselves to such corruption, for they foresaw the purpose of the devil, and clearly understood the butt at which the queen and her flatterers shot. in the stool[ ] of edinburgh, john knox said, "well, if the end of this order, pretended to be taken for sustentation of the ministers, be happy, my judgment faileth me; for i am assured that the spirit of god is not the author of it. first i see two parts freely given to the devil, and then the third must be divided betwixt god and the devil. bear witness to me that this day i say it--before long the devil shall have three parts of the third; judge what god's portion shall then be." this was an unsavoury saying in the ears of many. some were not ashamed to affirm, "the ministers being sustained, the queen will not, at the year's end, have enough to buy her a pair of new shoes." and this was secretary lethington. [ ] pulpit. [sidenote: the modification of stipends.] there were appointed to modify[ ] the ministers' stipends, the earls argyll, moray, and morton, lethington, the justice clerk, and the clerk of register. the laird of pittarrow was appointed to pay the ministers' stipends, according to their modification. who would have thought that, when joseph ruled egypt, his brethren should have travelled for victuals, and have returned to their families with empty sacks? men would rather have thought that pharaoh's poise, treasure, and girnells should have been diminished, before the household of jacob should have stood in danger of starving for hunger. [ ] adjust. so busy and circumspect were the modificators (because it was a new office, the term must also be new) to secure that the ministers should not be too wanton, a hundred marks was considered sufficient for a single man, being a common minister. three hundred marks was the highest stipend appointed to any, except to the superintendents, and a few others. shortly, whether it was from the niggardliness of their own hearts, or the care that they had to enrich the queen, we know not; but the poor ministers, readers, and exhorters cried out to the heaven, as their complaints in all assemblies do witness, that neither were they able to live upon the stipends appointed, nor could they get payment of that small thing that was appointed. the comptroller would fain have played the good valet, and have satisfied the queen, or else his own profit, in every point; and he got this saying and proverb, "the good laird of pittarrow was an earnest professor of christ; but the big devil receive the comptroller, for he and his collectors are become greedy factors."[ ] [ ] stewards. we put an end to this unpleasing story. when the brethren complained of their poverty, it was disdainfully answered by some, "there are many lords that have not so much to spend." men did reason that the vocation of ministers craved books, quietness, study, and travel, to edify the kirk of jesus christ, while many lairds were waiting upon their worldly business. the stipends of ministers, who had no other industry, but had to live upon that which was appointed, ought therefore not to be modified according to the livings of common men, who might and did daily augment their rents by some other industry. but they gat no other answer than, "the queen can spare no greater sums." oft was it cried into their ears, "o happy servants of the devil, and miserable servants of jesus christ; if after this life there were not hell and heaven." to the servants of the devil, to your dumb dogs and horned bishops, to one of those idle bellies, i say, ten thousand was not enough; but to the servants of christ that painfully preach his evangel, a thousand pounds; how can that be defended? [sidenote: secretary lethington gets his answer.] one day, in reasoning of this matter, the secretary burst out in a piece of his choler, and said, "the ministers have so much paid to them year by year, and who yet ever bade the queen 'grand-mercies' for it? was there ever a minister that gave thanks to god for her majesty's liberality towards them?" one smiled and answered, "assuredly, i think that such as receive anything gratis of the queen, are unthankful if they acknowledge it not, both in heart and mouth. but whether the ministers be of that rank or not, i greatly doubt. gratis, i am assured, they receive nothing; and whether they receive anything at all from the queen, wise men may reason. i am assured that neither third nor 'two-part' ever appertained to any of her predecessors within this realm these thousand years by-past, nor yet has the queen better title to that which she usurps, be it in giving to others or in taking to herself, than had such as crucified jesus to divide his garments amongst them. if the truth may be spoken, she has not so good title as they had; for such spoil used to be the reward of such men. and these soldiers were more gentle than the queen and her flatterers, for they parted not the garments of our master until he himself was hung upon the cross; but she and her flatterers do part the spoil while poor christ is yet preaching amongst you. but the wisdom of our god makes trial of us by this means, knowing well enough what she and her faction have purposed to do. let the papists, who have some the two-parts, some their thirds free, and some abbacies and feu lands, thank the queen, and sing, '_placebo dominæ_.' the poor preachers will not yet flatter, for feeding of their belly." these words were judged proud and intolerable, and engendered no small displeasure to the speaker. this we put in memory, that the posterities to come may know that god once made his truth to triumph; but, because some of ourselves delighted more in darkness than in light, he hath restrained our freedom, and put the whole body in bondage.... [sidenote: lord james stewart created earl of mar: his marriage.] in the meantime, to wit, in february, the year of god , lord james stewart was first made earl of mar,[ ] and then married to agnes keith, daughter to the earl marischall. at the marriage, which was public in the church of edinburgh, they both got an admonition to behave themselves moderately in all things; "for," said the preacher (john knox) to him, "to this day the kirk of god hath received comfort by you, and by your labours. if hereafter ye shall be found fainter in this than ye were before, it will be said that your wife hath changed your nature." the greatness of the banquet, and the vanity used thereat, offended many godly. there began the masking, which from year to year hath continued since. [ ] "soon after, the earldom of moray was bestowed upon him, instead of the earldom of mar. lord erskine had an old right to the earldom of mar."--_ms. variant._ master randolph, agent for the queen of england, was then, and for some time after, in no small conceit with our queen; for his mistress' sake, she drank to him in a cup of gold, which he possessed with greater joy for the favour of the giver, than for the gift and its value; and yet it was honourable. the things that then were in handling betwixt the two queens--lethington, secretary cecil, and master randolph being ministers--were of great weight, as we will afterwards hear. [sidenote: disorderly conduct of earl bothwell and others.] this winter, the earl bothwell, the marquis d'elboeuf, and lord john of coldingham, played riot in edinburgh, misordered the whole town, broke cuthbert ramsay's gates and doors, and searched his house for his good-daughter,[ ] alison craik. this was done in despite of the earl of arran, whose mistress the said alison was suspected to have been. the horror of this fact, and the rarity of it, highly commoved all godly hearts. the assembly and the nobility were in the town for the most part; and they concluded to crave justice by supplication. this they did.... [ ] daughter-in-law. this supplication was presented by divers gentlemen. at first the flatterers of the court stormed, and asked, "who durst avow it?" the master, now lord lyndsay, answered, "a thousand gentlemen within edinburgh." others were ashamed to oppose themselves to the supplication in public; but they suborned the queen to give a gentle answer until such time as the convention was dissolved. this she did; for she lacks no craft, both to cloak and to maintain impiety. she alleged that her uncle was a stranger and had a young company; but that she should put such order to him, and unto all others, that thereafter they should have no occasion to complain.... but punishment of that enormity and fearful attempt we could get none: more and more they presumed to do violence, and frequented nightly masking. some, as robin craig's household, because his daughter was fair, delighted therein; others lamented, and began to bear the matter very heavily. at length, the lord duke's friends assembled one night upon the causeway. the abbot of kilwinning (who then was joined to the church, and, as we understand, doth yet abide so) was the principal man at the beginning. to him repaired many faithful; and amongst others came andrew stewart, lord ochiltree, a man rather born to make peace than to brag upon the causeway, and demanded the quarrel. being informed of the former enormity, he said, "nay, such impiety shall not be suffered so long as god shall assist us. by his grace, we will maintain the victory that god in his mercy hath given." so he commanded his son, andrew stewart, then master, and his servants to put themselves in order, and to bring forth their spears and long weapons; and thus did others. word came to the earl bothwell and his party that the hamiltons were upon the gait.[ ] vows were made that the hamiltons should be dung not only out of the town, but also out of the country. lord john of coldingham had married the earl bothwell's sister, a sufficient woman for such a man; others drew the lord robert; and so they both joined with the earl bothwell. but the stoutness of the marquis le boeuf, d'elboeuf they call him, is most to be commended; for in his chamber, within the abbey, he started to a halbert, and ten men were scarcely able to hold him; but, as hap was, the inner gate of the abbey kept him that night. the danger was betwixt the cross and the salt tron; and so he was a large quarter of a mile from the shot and slanting[ ] of bolts. the master of maxwell gave declaration to the earl bothwell that, if he stirred from his lodging, he, and all that would assist him, should resist him in the face: these words did somewhat beat down that blast. the earls of huntly and moray,[ ] being in the abbey where the marquis was, came with their companies, sent from the queen to stay that tumult. this they did; for bothwell and his party were commanded to keep their lodgings, under pain of treason. [ ] on the move. [ ] range. [ ] formerly lord james stewart: cf. page , _n._ [sidenote: plots against the earl of moray.] it was whispered by many that the desire for a quarrel with the earl of moray was as strong as was any hatred that the hamiltons bore against the earl bothwell, or he against them. indeed, either had the duke very false servants, or else the earl of moray's death was conspired oftener than once by huntly and the hamiltons. suspicion of this burst forth so far that one day the said earl, being upon horse to come to the sermon, was charged by one of the duke's own servants to return and abide with the queen. [sidenote: earl bothwell speaks with john knox.] the earl bothwell, by means of james barron, burgess[ ] and merchant of edinburgh, desired to speak with john knox secretly. the said john gladly granted this request, and spake with him one night, first in the said james's lodging, and thereafter in his own study. the said earl lamented his former inordinate life, and especially that he had been provoked by the enticements of the queen regent to do that which he sorely repented, as well as his conduct towards the laird of ormiston, whose blood had been spilt, albeit not by his fault. but his chief dolour was that he had misbehaved himself against the earl of arran, whose favours he was most willing to redeem, if it were possible that he might do so. he desired the said john to give him his best counsel. "for," said he, "if i might have my lord of arran's favours, i would wait upon the court with a page and few servants, to spare my expenses. at present i am compelled, for my own safety, to keep a number of wicked and unprofitable men, to the utter destruction of what of my living there is left." [ ] inhabitant with full municipal right. the said john answered, "my lord, would to god that in me were counsel or judgment that might comfort and relieve you. albeit to this hour it hath not chanced me to speak with your lordship face to face, yet have i borne a good mind to your house; and i have been sorry at my heart concerning the troubles that i have heard you to be involved in. my grandfather, goodsire,[ ] and father, have served your lordship's predecessors, and some of them have died under their standards; and this is a part of the obligation of our scottish kindness:[ ] but this is not my chief reason. as god has made me his public messenger of glad tidings, it is my earnest desire that all men may embrace the same, and they cannot do this perfectly so long as there remaineth in them rancour, malice, or envy. i am very sorry that ye have given occasion to men to be offended with you; but i am more sorry that ye have offended the majesty of god, who by such means oft punishes the other sins of man. therefore, my counsel is that ye begin at god; if ye will enter into perfect reconciliation with him, i doubt not but he shall bow the hearts of men to forget all offences. as for me, if ye continue in godliness, your lordship may command me as boldly as any that serves your lordship." [ ] maternal grandfather. [ ] fealty of retainers. the said lord desired john knox that he would sound the earl of arran as to whether he would be content to receive him into his favour. this he promised to do; and he so earnestly travailed in that matter, that it was once brought to a conclusion and agreement, such as caused all the faithful to praise god. the greatest stay[ ] stood upon the satisfaction of the laird of ormiston, who, besides his former hurt, was, even at the time of the communing, pursued by the said lord bothwell, his son master alexander cockburn taken by him, and carried with him to borthwick, but gently enough sent back again. [ ] impediment. [sidenote: the reconciliation of the earl of arran and the earl bothwell.] that new trouble so greatly displeased john knox, that he almost gave over farther travailing for amity. but yet, upon receiving the excuse of the said earl, and after the declaration of his mind, he re-entered upon his labours, and brought it to pass that the laird of ormiston referred his satisfaction in all things to the judgments of the earls of arran and moray. to them the said earl bothwell submitted himself in that respect, and thereupon delivered his handwrit. he was convoyed by certain of his friends to the lodging of the kirk-of-field, where the earl of arran was with his friends, the said john knox being with him, to bear witness and testification of the end of the agreement. as the earl bothwell entered at the chamber door, and would have done those honours that friends had appointed (master gavin hamilton and the laird of riccarton were the chief friends that communed) the earl of arran gently passed to him, embraced him, and said, "if the hearts be upright, few ceremonies may serve and content me." the said john knox, in audience of them both and of their friends, then said, "now, my lords, god hath brought you together by the labours of simple men, in respect of such as would have travailed therein. i know my labours are already taken in an evil part; but, because i have the testimony of a good conscience before my god that whatsoever i have done, i have done in his fear, for the profit of you both, for the hurt of none, and for the tranquillity of this realm: seeing, i say, that my conscience beareth witness to me--a witness that i have sought and continually seek--i the more patiently bear the misreports and wrongous judgments of men. and now i leave you in peace, and desire you that are the friends to study that amity may increase, all former offences being forgotten." the friends of either part embraced the others, and the two earls departed to a window, and talked by themselves familiarly for a reasonable space. thereafter the earl bothwell departed for that night; and upon the next day in the morning he returned, with some of his honest friends, and came to the sermon with the earl foresaid. at this many rejoiced. but god had another work to work than the eyes of men could espy. [sidenote: the earl of arran suspects treachery.] the next thursday, the th of march , they dined together; and thereafter the said earl bothwell and master gavin hamilton rode to my lord duke's grace, who then was at kinneil. what communication was had betwixt them, it is not certainly known, except by the report which the said earl of arran made to the queen's grace, and to the earl of moray, by his writings. for upon friday, the fourth day after their reconciliation, the sermon being ended, the said earl of arran came to the house of john knox, and brought with him master richard strang and alexander guthrie. to them he opened the grief of his mind before john knox was called; for he was occupied, as he is wont to be after his sermons, in directing of writings. these labours ended, the said earl called the three together, and said, "i am treasonably betrayed;" and with these words began to weep. john knox demanded, "my lord, who has betrayed you?" "one judas, or other," said he; "but i know it is but my life that is sought: i regard it not." the other said, "my lord, i understand not such dark manner of speaking: if i shall give you any answer, you must speak more plain." "well," said he, "i take you three to witness that i open this to you, and i will write it to the queen. an act of treason is laid to my charge; the earl of bothwell has shown to me in counsel that he shall take the queen and put her in my hands in the castle of dumbarton; and that he shall slay the earl of moray, lethington, and others that now misguide her: and so shall i and he rule all. but i know that this is devised to accuse me of treason; for i know that he will inform the queen of it. but i take you to witness that i open it here to you; and, incontinently, i will go and write to the queen's majesty, and to my brother, the earl of moray." john knox demanded, "did ye consent, my lord, to any part of that treason?" he answered, "nay." "then," said he, "in my judgment, his words, albeit they were spoken, can never be treason to you; for the performance of the act depends upon your will, whereto ye say ye have dissented; and so shall that purpose vanish and die by itself, unless ye waken it; for it is not to be supposed that he will accuse you of that which he himself devised, and whereto ye would not consent." "o," said he, "ye understand not what craft is used against me: it is treason to conceal treason." "my lord," said he, "treason must import consent and determination, which i hear upon neither of your parts. therefore, my lord, in my judgment, it shall be more sure and more honourable to you to depend upon your innocence, and to abide the unjust accusation of another, if any follow thereof, as i think there shall not, than for you to accuse, especially after so recent reconciliation, and have none other witnesses but your own affirmation." "i know," said he, "that he will offer combat to me; but that would not be suffered in france: i will do that which i have purposed." and so he departed, and took with him to his lodging the said alexander guthrie and mr. richard strang. thence was dated and written a letter to the queen's majesty, according to the former purpose, which letter was directed with all diligence to the queen's majesty, who was then in falkland. the earl himself rode afterwards to kinneil, to his father, the duke's grace. how he was treated, we have but the common bruit; but thence he wrote another letter with his own hand, in cipher, to the earl of moray, complaining of his rigorous handling and treatment by his own father, and by his friends; and affirming, farther, that he feared his life, in case he gat not speedy rescue. he did not rest there, but brake the chamber wherein he was put, and with great pain passed to stirling, and thence he was convoyed to the hallyards. there he was kept until the earl of moray came to him, and convoyed him to the queen, who was then in falkland. she was sufficiently instructed concerning the whole matter; and, upon suspicion conceived, had ordered the apprehension of master gavin hamilton and the earl bothwell. they, knowing nothing of what had passed, came to falkland, and this augmented the former suspicion. [sidenote: the frenzy of the earl of arran.] the letters of john knox, however, ensured that all things were done the more circumspectly; for he did plainly forewarn the earl of moray that he espied the earl of arran to be stricken with frenzy, and therefore would not have too great credit given to his words and inventions. and so it came to pass; for within few days the earl's sickness increased; he devised of wondrous signs that he saw in the heaven; and, finally, he behaved himself in all things so foolishly that his frenzy could not be hid. nevertheless, the earl bothwell and the abbot of kilwinning were detained in the castle of st. andrews, and convened before the council, with the earl of arran, who ever stood firm in alleging that the earl bothwell proponed to him such things as he had advertised the queen's grace of. he stiffly denied that his father, the said abbot, or his friends, knew anything of the matter, or that they intended any violence against him; and alleged that he had been enchanted so to think and write. thereat the queen, highly offended, committed him to prison with the other two, first in the castle of st. andrews, and thereafter in the castle of edinburgh.... [sidenote: john knox reproves the queen.] things put in order in fife, the queen returned to edinburgh, and then began dancing to grow hot; for her friends began to triumph in france. sure information of this came to the ears of john knox, for there were some that showed to him the state of things from time to time. he was assured that the queen had danced excessively until after midnight, because she had received letters informing her that persecution was renewed in france, and that her uncles were beginning to stir their tail, and to trouble the whole realm of france. upon occasion of this text, "and now understand, o ye kings, and be learned, ye that judge the earth," he began to tax the ignorance, the vanity, and the despite of princes against all virtue, and against all those in whom hatred of vice and love of virtue appeared. [sidenote: he is summoned before the queen.] report of this sermon was made unto the queen, and john knox was sent for. mr. alexander cockburn, of ormiston, who had formerly been his scholar, and then was very familiar with him, was the messenger, and gave him some knowledge both of the report and of the reporters. the queen was in her bedchamber, and with her, besides the ladies and the common servants, were the lord james, the earl morton, secretary lethington, and some of the guard that had made the report. he was called, and accused of having spoken irreverently of the queen, of travailing to bring her into the hatred and contempt of the people, and of exceeding the bounds of his text. upon these three heads, the queen herself made a long harangue or oration; to which the said john answered as follows:-- [sidenote: john knox, states his views concerning the behaviour of princes.] "madam, this is oftentimes the just recompense which god giveth to the stubborn of the world. because they will not hear god speaking for the comfort of the penitent, and the amendment of the wicked, they are oft compelled to hear the false report of others to their greater displeasure. i doubt not but that it came to the ears of proud herod that our master christ jesus called him fox; but they told him not how odious a thing it was before god to murder an innocent, as he had lately done before, causing john the baptist to be beheaded, to reward the dancing of a harlot's daughter. madam, if the reporters of my words had been honest men, they would have reported my words, and the circumstances of the same. but, because they would have credit in court, and lack virtue worthy thereof, they must have somewhat to please your majesty, if it were but flattery and lies. if your grace take any pleasure in such persons, it will turn to your everlasting displeasure. madam, had your own ears heard the whole matter that i entreated, ye could not justly have been offended with anything that i spake, if there be in you any sparkle of the spirit of god, yea, of honesty or wisdom. ye have heard their report; may it please your grace to hear myself rehearse the sermon, as nearly as memory will serve. "my text, madam, was this, 'and now, o kings, understand; be learned, ye judges of the earth.' after, madam, i had declared the dignity of kings and rulers, the honour in which god has placed them, and the obedience that is due unto them, as god's lieutenants, i demanded this: but, o alas! what account shall the most part of princes make before that supreme judge, whose throne and authority so manifestly and shamefully they abuse? this day is most true the complaint of solomon that violence and oppression do occupy the throne of god here in this earth: murderers, bloodthirsty men, oppressors, and malefactors dare be bold to present themselves before kings and princes, and the poor saints of god are banished and exiled. what shall we say, but that the devil hath taken possession of the throne of god, which ought to be fearful to all wicked doers, and a refuge to the innocent oppressed. how can it be otherwise? princes will not understand; they will not be taught as god commands them. god's law they despise, his statutes and holy ordinances they will not understand; they are more exercised in fiddling and flinging than in reading or hearing god's most blessed word; and fiddlers and flatterers, who commonly corrupt youth, are more precious in their eyes than are men of wisdom and gravity, who might, by wholesome admonition, beat down in them some part of that vanity and pride wherein all are born, but in princes taketh deep root and strength by wicked education. [sidenote: of dancing.] "of dancing, madam, i said that, albeit in the scriptures i found no praise of it, and in profane writers that it is termed the gesture rather of those that are mad and in frenzy than of sober men; yet do i not utterly condemn it, providing that two vices be avoided. firstly, the principal vocation of those that use that exercise must not be neglected for the pleasure of dancing; secondly, they may not dance, as did the philistines their fathers, for the pleasure that they take in the displeasure of god's people. if they do either, they shall receive the reward of dancers, and that will be drink in hell, unless they speedily repent, and so shall god turn their mirth into sudden sorrow. god will not always afflict his people, nor will he always wink at the tyranny of tyrants. if any man, madam, will say that i spake more, let him presently accuse me; for i think i have not only touched the sum, but the very words as i spake them." many that stood by bare witness with him that he had recited the very words that he had spoken publicly. the queen looked about to some of the reporters, and said, "your words are sharp enough as ye have spoken them; but yet they were told to me in another manner. i know that my uncles and ye are not of one religion, and therefore i cannot blame you, albeit you have no good opinion of them. but if ye hear anything of myself that mislikes you, come to myself and tell me, and i shall hear you." "madam," quoth he, "i am assured that your uncles are enemies to god, and unto his son, jesus christ; and that, for maintenance of their own pomp and worldly glory, they spare not to spill the blood of many innocents. i am therefore assured that their enterprises shall have no better success than have had others that before them have done what they do now. but as to your own personage, madam, i would be glad to do all that i could for your grace's contentment, provided that i exceed not the bounds of my vocation. i am called, madam, to a public function within the kirk of god, and am appointed by god to rebuke the sins and vices of all. i am not appointed to come to every man in particular to show him his offence; that labour were infinite. if your grace will please to frequent the public sermons, i doubt not but that ye shall fully understand both what i like and mislike, as well in your majesty as in all others. or, if your grace will assign unto me a certain day and hour when it will please you to hear the form and substance of doctrine which is proponed in public to the churches of this realm, i will most gladly await upon your grace's pleasure, time, and place. but to wait upon your chamber door, or elsewhere, and then to have no farther liberty than to whisper my mind in your grace's ear, or to tell you what others think and speak of you, neither will my conscience nor the vocation whereto god hath called me suffer it. for, albeit at your grace's commandment i am here now, i cannot tell what other men shall judge of me, when they learn that at this time of day i am absent from my book, and waiting upon the court." "you will not always," said she, "be at your book," and so turned her back. john knox departed with a reasonably merry countenance. some papists, offended at this, said, "he is not afraid." hearing this, he answered, "why should the pleasing face of a gentlewoman affright me? i have looked in the faces of many angry men, and yet have not been afraid, above measure." and so left he the queen and the court for that time. [sidenote: the queen negotiates with england.] in the meantime, the negotiation and credit was great betwixt the queen of england and our sovereign: letters, couriers, and posts ran very frequently. there was great bruit of an interview and meeting of the two queens at york, and some preparations were made for this in both the realms. but it failed upon the part of england, and that by occasion of the troubles moved in france, as was alleged. these caused the queen and her council to remain in the south parts of england, to avoid inconvenience. [sidenote: the king of sweden proposes marriage to queen mary.] that summer, there came an ambassador from the king of sweden, requiring marriage of our sovereign to his master the king. his entertainment was honourable; but our queen liked not his petition. such a man was too base for her estate; had not she been great queen of france? fie, of sweden! what is it? but happy was the man that was forsaken of such an one. and yet she did not refuse one who was far inferior to a virtuous king. [sidenote: the queen and the earl of moray.] the earl of moray made a privy raid to hawick upon the fair-day, and apprehended fifty thieves; of this number seventeen were drowned; others were executed in jedburgh. the principals were brought to edinburgh, and there suffered, according to their merits, upon the borough muir. the queen was not content with the prosperity and good success that god gave to the earl of moray in all his enterprises, for she hated his upright dealing, and the image of god which did evidently appear in him; but at that time she could not well have been served without him. [sidenote: the general assembly: june .] at the assembly of the kirk at midsummer, on the th of june , many notable points were discussed concerning good order in the church; for the papists and the idolatry of the queen began to trouble the former good orders.... the tenor of the supplication read in open audience, and approved by the whole assembly to be presented to the queen's majesty, was this:-- [sidenote: the supplication presented to the queen.] "having in mind that fearful sentence, pronounced by the eternal god against the watchmen that see the sword of god's punishment approach, and do not in plain words forewarn the people, yea, the princes and rulers, that they may repent, we cannot but signify unto your highness, and unto your council, that the state of this realm is such, at this present time, that unless redress and remedy be shortly provided, god's hand cannot long spare in his anger, to strike the head and the tail; the inobedient prince and sinful people. for, as god is unchangeable and true, so must he punish in these our days the grievous sins that we read he has punished in all ages, after he has long called for repentance, and none is shown. "that your grace and council may understand what be the things we desire to be reformed, we will begin at that which we assuredly know to be the fountain and spring of all other evils that now abound in this realm, to wit, that idol and bastard service of god, the mass; the fountain, we call it, of all impiety, not only because many take boldness to sin by reason of the opinion which they have conceived of that idol, to wit, that by the virtue of it, they get remission of their sins; but also that, under colour of the mass, whores, adulterers, drunkards, blasphemers of god and of his holy word and sacraments, and such other manifest malefactors, are maintained and defended: for, let any mass-sayer, or earnest maintainer thereof, be deprehended in any of the forenamed crimes, no execution can be had, for all is said to be done in hatred of his religion; and so are wicked men permitted to live wickedly, cloaked and protected by that odious idol. but, supposing the mass were occasion of no such evils, yet in itself it is so odious in god's presence that we cannot cease, with all instance, to desire the removing of the same, as well from yourself as from all others within this realm, taking heaven and earth, yea, and your own conscience, to record that the obstinate maintenance of that idol shall in the end be to you destruction of soul and body. "if your majesty demand why we are more earnest now than we have been heretofore; we answer (our former silence nowise excused) that it is because we find ourselves frustrated of our hope and expectation; which was that, in process of time, your grace's heart should have been mollified, so far as to have heard the public doctrine taught within this realm; by which, our farther hope was, god's holy spirit should so have moved your heart, that ye should have suffered your religion, which before god is nothing but abomination and vanity, to have been tried by the true touchstone, the written word of god; and that your grace finding it to have no ground or foundation in the same, should have given such glory unto god that ye would have preferred his truth unto your own preconceived vain opinion, of whatever antiquity it has been. of this we in a part are now discouraged and can no longer keep silence, unless we would make ourselves criminal before god of your blood, perishing in your own iniquities; for we plainly admonish you of the dangers to come. "the second that we require is punishment of horrible vices, such as are adultery, fornication, open whoredom, blasphemy, and contempt of god, of his word and of his sacraments; vices which, in this realm, for lack of punishment, do even now so abound that sin is reputed to be no sin. and, therefore, as we see the present signs of god's wrath manifestly appear, so do we forewarn that he will strike, before long, if his law be permitted thus manifestly to be contemned, without punishment. if any object, that punishment cannot be commanded to be executed without a parliament; we answer that the eternal god in his parliament has pronounced death to be the punishment for adultery and for blasphemy. if ye put not his acts to execution, seeing that kings are but his lieutenants, having no power to give life where he commands death, he will repute you, and all others that foster vice, patrons of impiety, and he will not fail to punish you for neglecting his judgments. "our third request concerneth the poor, who be of three sorts; the poor labourers of the ground; the poor desolate beggars, orphans, widows, and strangers; and the poor ministers of the holy evangel of christ jesus, who are all so cruelly treated by this last pretended order taken for sustentation of ministers, that their latter misery far surmounteth the former. for now the poor labourers of the ground are so oppressed by the cruelty of those that pay their third, that they for the most part advance upon the poor, whatsoever they pay to the queen, or to any other. as for the very indigent and poor, to whom god commands a sustentation to be provided from the teinds, they are so despised that it is a wonder that the sun giveth light and heat to the earth, where god's name is so frequently called upon, and no mercy, according to his commandment, is shown to his creatures. and also for the ministers, their livings are so appointed that the most part shall live but a beggar's life. and all cometh of impiety, that the idle bellies of christ's enemies must be fed with their former delicacies. "we dare not conceal from your grace and honours the burden of our conscience, which is this, that neither by the law of god, nor by any just law of man, is anything due to them who now most cruelly do exact of the poor and rich the two-part of their benefices, as they call it. "therefore we most humbly require that some other order may be taken with them, and that they be not set up again to empire above the people of god, or above any subject within this realm. for we fear that such usurpation to their former estate shall be in the end neither pleasing to themselves, nor profitable to them that would place them in that tyranny. if any think that a competent living should be assigned to them, we repugn not, provided that the labourers of the ground be not oppressed, the poor be not utterly neglected, the ministers of the word be not so sharply treated as they now are, and, finally, that those idle bellies, who by law can crave nothing, shall confess that they receive their sustentation, not as a matter of debt, but as of benevolence. our humble request is, therefore, that some speedy order may be taken that the poor labourers may find some relief, and that in every parish some portion of the teinds may be assigned to the sustentation of the poor within the same; and likewise that some public relief may be provided for the poor within burghs; that collectors may be appointed to gather, and that sharp account may be taken, as well of their receipts as of their disbursements. the farther consideration to be had towards our ministers, we in some part remit to your wisdoms, and to their particular complaints. "our fourth petition is for the manses, yards, and glebes, justly appertaining to the ministers, without which it is impossible for them quietly to serve their charges; and therefore we desire order to be taken therein without delay. "our fifth concerneth the inobedience of certain wicked persons, who not only trouble, and have troubled ministers in their functions, but also disobey the superintendents in their visitation. of this we humbly crave remedy; not so much for any fear that we and our ministers have of the papists, but for the love that we bear to the common tranquillity. for we cannot hide from your majesty and council that, if the papists think to triumph where they may, and to do what they list, where there is not a party able to resist them, some will think that they must begin where they left off. heretofore they have borne all things patiently, in hope that laws should have bridled the wicked. if they be frustrated in this, albeit nothing is more odious to them than tumults and domestic discord, men will attempt the uttermost, before they behold with their own eyes the demolition of that house of god, which with travail and danger god hath within this realm erected by them. "lastly, we desire that such as have received remission of their third be compelled to sustain the ministry within their bounds, else we forewarn your grace and council that we fear that the people will retain the whole in their hands, until such time as their ministry shall be sufficiently provided. we farther desire that the kirks be repaired according to an act set forth by the lords of secret council, before your majesty's arrival in this country; that judges be appointed to hear the causes of divorcement, for the kirk can no longer sustain that burden, especially since there is no punishment for the offenders; that sayers and hearers of mass, profaners of the sacraments, such as have entered into benefices by the pope's bulls, and other such transgressors of the law made at your grace's arrival within this realm, may be severely punished; else men will think that there is no truth meant in the making of such laws. "farther, we most humbly desire of your grace and honourable council a resolute answer to every one of the heads forewritten, that, the same being known, we may somewhat satisfy such as are grievously offended at manifest iniquity now maintained, at oppression under pretext of law done against the poor, and at the rebellious disobedience of many wicked persons against god's word and holy ordinance. "god the father of our lord jesus christ, so rule your hearts, and direct your grace and council's judgments by the dyttament[ ] and illumination of his holy spirit, that ye may so answer that your consciences may be absolved in the presence of that righteous judge, the lord jesus; and then we doubt not but that ye yourselves shall find felicity, and this poor realm, that long has been oppressed by wicked men, shall enjoy tranquillity and rest, with the true knowledge of god." [ ] dictation; guidance. [sidenote: secretary lethington objects to the terms of the supplication.] these things were read in public assembly, and approved by all. some wished that more sharpness had been used, because the time so craved. but the monsieurs of the court, and secretary lethington above others, could not abide such hard speaking; "for who ever saw it written," said he, "to a prince, that god would strike the head and the tail, or that, if papists did what they should list, men would begin where they had left off?" above all others, it was most offensive that the queen was accused as if she would raise up papists and papistry again. to put that into the people's head was no less than treason; for oaths durst be made that she never meant such a thing. it was answered that the prophet isaiah used such manner of speaking; and there was no doubt but that he was well acquainted in the court, for it was supposed that he was of the king's stock. howsoever it was, his words make manifest that he spake to the court and courtiers, to judges, ladies, princes and priests. and yet, says he, "the lord shall cut away the head and the tail," etc. "and so," said the first writer, "i find that such a phrase was used once before. if it offend you that we say, 'men must begin where they left off,' in case the papists do as they do; we would desire you to teach us, not so much how we shall speak, but rather what we shall do when our ministers are stricken, our superintendents are disobeyed, and a plain rebellion is decreed against all good order." "complain," said lethington. "whom to?" said the other. "to the queen's majesty," said he. "how long shall we do so?" quoth the whole. "till ye get remedy," said the justice clerk: "give me their names, and i shall give you letters." "if the sheep," said one, "shall complain to the wolf that the wolves and whelps have devoured their lambs, the complainer may stand in danger; but the offender, we fear, shall have liberty to hunt after his prey." "such comparisons," said lethington, "are very unsavoury; for i am assured that the queen will neither erect nor yet maintain papistry." "let your assurance," said another, "serve yourself; it cannot assure us; for her manifest proceedings speak the contrary." after such taunting reasoning on both sides, the multitude concluded that the supplication, as it was conceived, should be presented; unless the secretary would form one more agreeable to the present necessity. he promised to keep the substance of ours, but said he would use other terms, and ask things in a more genteel manner. the first writer answered that he served the kirk at their commandment, and was content that with his dictament men should use the liberty that best pleased them, provided that he was not compelled to subscribe to the flattery of such as regarded the persons of men and women more than the simple truth of god. so this former supplication was given to be reformed as lethington's wisdom thought best. and in very deed he so framed it that, when it was delivered by the superintendents of lothian and fife, and when the queen had read somewhat of it, she said, "here are many fair words: i cannot tell what the hearts are." for our painted oratory, we were termed the next name to flatterers and dissemblers; but, for that session, the kirk received no other answer.... [sidenote: the queen visits the north: papist intrigues.] the interview and meeting of the two queens being delayed until the next year, our sovereign took purpose to visit the north, and departed from stirling in the month of august. whether there was any secret paction and confederacy betwixt the papists in the south and the earl of huntly and his papists in the north; or, to speak more plainly, betwixt the queen herself and huntly, we cannot certainly say. but the suspicions were wondrously vehement that there was no good-will borne to the earl of moray, nor yet to such as depended upon him at that time. the history we shall faithfully declare, and leave the judgment to the reader.... the queen and court remained at aberdeen certain days, to deliberate upon the affairs of the country; and some began to smell that the earl of huntly was under gathering.[ ] while things were so working in the north, the earl bothwell brake his ward, and came forth from the castle of edinburgh on the th of august. some say that he broke the stanchions of the window; others whispered that he got easy passage by the gates. one thing is certain; the queen was little offended at his escaping. the said earl showed himself not very much afraid, for his common residence was in lothian. the archbishop of st. andrews and abbot of crossraguel kept secret convention at that same time in paisley, and to them resorted divers papists; yea, the said archbishop spake with the duke, and unto him came also the lord gordon from the earl of huntly, requiring him "to put to his hands in the south, as he should do in the north; and knox's crying or preaching should not stay that purpose." the archbishop, let him be never so close, could not altogether hide his mind, but at his own table said, "the queen is gone into the north, belike to seek disobedience: she may perchance find the thing that she seeks." it was constantly affirmed that the earl bothwell and the said lord gordon spake together, but of their purpose we heard no mention. [ ] that is, his clansmen were being mobilised. [sidenote: john knox warns the protestants.] the same year, and at that instant time, commissioners were appointed by the general assembly. to carrick and cunningham, master george hay was sent, and he, for the space of a month, preached with great fruit in all the churches of carrick. to kyle, and to the parts of galloway, john knox was appointed. besides showing the doctrine of the evangel to the common people, john knox forewarned some of the nobility and barons of the dangers that he feared, and that were apparently to follow shortly; and he exhorted them to put themselves in order, so that they might be able to serve the authority, and yet not to suffer the enemies of god's truth to have the upper hand. thereupon, a great part of the barons and gentlemen of kyle and cunningham and carrick, professing the true doctrine of the evangel, assembled at ayr. [sidenote: a bond is again subscribed.] after exhortations made and conference held, these subscribed a bond to maintain and assist the preaching of god's holy evangel, then, of his mere mercy, offered to this realm; and also the ministers thereof against all persons, power, and authority, that would oppose themselves to the doctrine proponed, and by them received. and farther, with the same solemnity, it was protested and promised, that every one should assist others, yea, the whole body of the protestants within the realm, in all lawful and just actions, against all persons; so that whosoever should hurt, molest, or trouble any of our body, should be reputed enemy to the whole, unless the offender were content to submit himself to the judgment of the kirk, as established amongst us.... these things done at ayr, the said john passed to nithsdale and galloway, and there, in conference with the master of maxwell, a man of great judgment and experience, he communicated such things as he feared. upon his suggestion, the master wrote to the earl bothwell, enjoining him to behave himself as became a faithful subject, and to keep good quietness in the parts committed to his charge, for so would the crime of his breaking ward be the more easily pardoned. john knox wrote to the duke's grace, and earnestly exhorted him neither to give ear to the archbishop, his bastard brother, nor yet to the persuasion of the earl of huntly; for if he did, he assured him, he and his house should come to a sudden ruin. [sidenote: the result of john knox's labours in the south.] by such means the south parts were kept in reasonable quietness, during the time that the troubles were in brewing in the north. and yet the archbishop and the abbot of crossraguel did what in them lay to raise some trouble. besides the fearful bruits that they sparsed abroad, sometimes that the queen was taken; sometimes that the earl of moray and all his band were slain; and sometimes that the queen had given herself to the earl of huntly,--besides such bruits, the archbishop, to disturb the country of kyle, where quietness was greatest, raised the crawfords against the reids for payment of the archbishop's pasch fines; but that was stayed by the labours of indifferent men, who favoured peace. [sidenote: the abbot of crossraguel and john knox.] the abbot of crossraguel requested an opportunity to dispute with john knox as to the maintenance of the mass. this was granted to him, and debate was held in maybole during three days. the abbot had the advantage that he required; to wit, he took upon him to prove that melchisedec offered bread and wine to god, and this was the ground upon which was founded the argument that the mass was a sacrifice, etc. but, in the travail of three days, no proof could be produced for melchisedec's oblation, as in the disputation (which is to be had in print) may clearly appear. the papists constantly looked for a wolter,[ ] and therefore made some brag of reasoning. the abbot further presented himself in the pulpit, but the voice of master george hay so affrighted him, that, after one attempt, he wearied of that exercise. [ ] overturn. [sidenote: the revolt of the earl of huntly.] after the queen was somewhat satisfied of hunting and other pastime, she came to aberdeen. there the earl of huntly and his lady met her with no small train. he remained in court, was supposed to have the greatest credit, departed with the queen to buchan, and met her again at rothiemay, expecting that she would accompany him to strathbogie. but, in the journey, certain word came to her that john gordon[ ] had broken promise in not re-entering into ward; for his father the earl had promised that he should again enter within the castle of stirling, and there abide the queen's pleasure. but, with or without his father's knowledge and consent, he refused to enter; and this so offended the queen that she would not go to strathbogie, but passed through strathisla to inverness, where the castle was denied to her. the captain had command to keep it, and looked for relief which john of gordon had promised; but, being frustrated in this, the castle was surrendered. the captain, named gordon, was executed; the rest were condemned, and the hands of some were bound, but these escaped. this was the beginning of further trouble; for the earl of huntly was offended, and began to assemble his folks, sparing not to say that he would be revenged.[ ]... [ ] sir john gordon, of findlater, second son of the earl of huntly. confined in the tolbooth of edinburgh, for a murderous attack upon lord ogilvy of airly in a quarrel concerning property, he had broken ward.--ed. [ ] he was denounced as a traitor. with a following of eight hundred men, he encountered the earl of moray and the queen's forces outside aberdeen, and was defeated and slain at the battle of corrichie.--ed. [sidenote: of the earl of huntly.] upon the morrow after the discomfiture, the lady forbes, a woman both wise and fearing god, came amongst many others to visit the corpse of the said earl; and seeing him lie upon the cold stones, having only upon him a doublet of canvas, a pair of scottish grey hose, and a covering of arras-work, she said, "what stability shall we judge to be in this world: there lieth he that yesterday morning was holden the wisest, the richest, and a man of greatest power within scotland." in very deed, she lied not; for, in man's opinion, under a prince, there was not such a one produced in this realm these three hundred years. but felicity and worldly wisdom so blinded him that in the end he perished in them, as shall all those that despise god and trust in themselves.... [sidenote: the queen's relations with the earl of moray.] the earl of moray sent word of the marvellous victory to the queen, and humbly prayed her to show obedience to god and publicly to convene with them, to give thanks to god for his notable deliverance. she gloomed at the messenger and at the request, and scarcely would give a good word or blithe countenance to any that she knew to be earnest favourers of the earl moray, whose prosperity was, and yet is, to her boldened heart, a very venom against him for his godliness and upright plainness. for many days she bare no better countenance; and thereby it might have been evidently espied that she rejoiced not greatly in the success of that matter; and, albeit she caused john gordon and divers others to be executed, it was the destruction of others that she sought. [sidenote: rumours concerning the queen's marriage.] in the meantime, there was much trouble in france; and the intelligence and outward familiarity betwixt the two queens was great. lethington was directed with large commission both to the queen of england and to the guisians. the marriage of our queen was in every man's mouth. some would have spain; some the emperor's brother; some lord robert dudley; some the duke de nemours; and some unhappily guessed at the lord darnley. we know not what lethington's credit was; but, shortly after, there began to be much talk of the earl of lennox, and of his son, the lord darnley. it was said that lethington spake with the lady margaret douglas, and that robert melvin received a horse, for the secretary's use, from the earl of lennox or from his wife. howsoever it was, master fowler, servant to the said earl, came with letters to the queen's grace, and licence was permitted to the earl of lennox to come to scotland, to travail in his lawful business. on the day that the licence was granted, the secretary said, "this day have i incurred the deadly hatred of all the hamiltons within scotland, and have done them no less displeasure than had i cutted their throats." [sidenote: the queen and earl bothwell.] the earl bothwell, who had broken ward, fearing apprehension, prepared to pass to france; but, by storm of weather, he was driven into england, where he was stayed, and the queen of england offered to surrender him. but our queen answered that he was no rebel, and requested that he should have liberty to pass whither it pleased him. in this, lethington helped not a little; for he travailed to have friends in every faction of the court. thus the said earl obtained licence to pass to france. [sidenote: the preachers admonish the courtiers.] the court remained for the most part in edinburgh, during the winter after the death of the earl of huntly. the preachers were wondrously vehement in reprehension of all manner of vice, which then began to abound; and especially avarice, oppression of the poor, excess, riotous cheer, banqueting, immoderate dancing, and the whoredom that ensues. the courtiers began to storm, and to pick quarrels against the preachers, alleging that all their preaching was turned to railing. one of them gave answer as follows: "it comes to our ears that we are called railers. albeit we wonder, we are not ashamed. the most worthy servants of god that before us have travailed in this vocation have so been styled. but the same god, who from the beginning has punished the contempt of his word, and has poured forth his vengeance upon such proud mockers, shall not spare you; yea, he shall not spare you before the eyes of this same wicked generation, for whose pleasure ye despise all wholesome admonitions. "have ye not seen a greater than any of you sitting where presently ye sit, pick his nails and pull down his bonnet over his eyes, when idolatry, witchcraft, murder, oppression, and such vices were rebuked? was not his common talk, 'when these knaves have railed their fill, will they then hold their peace?' have ye not heard it affirmed to his own face that god should revenge his blasphemy, even in the eyes of such as were witnesses to his iniquity? then was the earl of huntly accused by you as the maintainer of idolatry, and the only hinderer of all good order. him has god punished, even according to the threatenings that his and your ears heard; and by your hands hath god executed his judgments. "but what amendment in any case can be espied in you? idolatry was never in greater rest: virtue and virtuous men were never in more contempt: vice was never more bold, never did it less fear punishment. and yet, who guides the queen and court? who but the protestants? o horrible slanderers of god, and of his holy evangel. better it were for you plainly to renounce christ jesus, than thus to expose his blessed evangel to mockage. if god do not punish you, so that this same age shall see and behold your punishment, the spirit of righteous judgment guides me not."... [sidenote: the general assembly: th december .] at the general assembly of the church, holden the twenty-fifth of december, the year of god , great complaints were made that churches lacked ministers; that ministers lacked their stipends; that wicked men were permitted to be schoolmasters, and so to infect the youth. one, master robert cumin, schoolmaster in arbroath, was complained upon by the laird of dun, and sentence was pronounced against him. it was farther complained that idolatry was erected in divers parts of the realm; and some thought that new supplication for redress should be presented to the queen's grace. others demanded, what answer was received on the former occasion? the superintendent of lothian confessed the deliverance of it. "but," said he, "i received no answer." it was answered on behalf of the queen--for her supporters were ever there--that it was well known to the whole realm what troubles had occurred since the last assembly; and, therefore, that they should not wonder that the queen had not answered: but they doubted not but that order would be taken betwixt that and the parliament which was appointed for may, and all men should have occasion to stand content. this satisfied the whole assembly for that time. and this was the practice of the queen and of her council to drive time with fair words.... [sidenote: the protestants deal with idolaters and the mass.] the papists, at easter, , had erected that idol, the mass, in divers parts of the realm; amongst these being the archbishop of st. andrews, the prior of whithorn, with divers others of their faction.... the brethren, universally offended, and espying that the queen did but mock them by her proclamations, determined to put to their own hands, and to punish for example to others. so some priests in the west-land were apprehended, and intimation was made by the brethren to others, as to the abbot of crossraguel, the parson of sanquhar, and such, that they should not proceed by complaint to queen or council, but should execute the punishment that god, in his law, had appointed to idolaters, by such means as they might, wherever these should be apprehended. the queen stormed at such freedom of speaking, but she could not amend it; for the spirit of god, of boldness, and of wisdom, had not then left the most part of those whom god had used as instruments in the beginning. they were of one mind to maintain the truth of god, and to suppress idolatry. particularities had not divided them; and therefore could not the devil, working in the queen and papists, then do what he would. [sidenote: queen mary and john knox at lochleven.] the queen began to invent a new craft. she sent for john knox to come to her at lochleven. she travailed with him earnestly for two hours before her supper, seeking that he would be the instrument to persuade the people, and principally the gentlemen of the west, not to put hands to punish men for conducting themselves in their religion as pleased them. the other, perceiving her craft, said that if her grace would punish the malefactors according to the laws, he could promise quietness upon the part of all them that professed the lord jesus within scotland. but, if her majesty thought to delude the laws, he said he feared that some would let the papists understand that they should not be suffered to offend god's majesty so manifestly, without punishment. "will ye," quoth she, "allow that they shall take _my_ sword in their hand?" "the sword of justice," quoth he, "madam, is god's, and is given to princes and rulers for an end. if they transgress this, sparing the wicked, and oppressing innocents, they that, in the fear of god, execute judgment where god has commanded, do not offend god, although kings forbear; nor do those sin that bridle kings from striking innocent men in their rage. the examples are evident; samuel feared not to slay agag, the fat and delicate king of amalek, whom king saul had saved.... and so, madam, your grace may see that others than chief magistrates may lawfully punish, and have punished the vice and crimes that god commands to be punished. in the present case, i would earnestly pray your majesty to take good advisement, and that your grace should let the papists understand that their attempts will not be suffered to go unpunished. for, by act of parliament, power is given to all judges to search for mass-mongers, or the hearers of the same, within their own bounds, and to punish them according to the law. it shall therefore be profitable to your majesty to consider what is the thing your grace's subjects look to receive of your majesty, and what it is that ye ought to do to them by mutual contract. they are only bound to obey you in god. ye are bound to keep laws for them. ye crave of them service; they crave of you protection and defence against wicked doers. now, madam, if ye shall deny your duty to those who especially crave that ye shall punish malefactors, think ye to receive full obedience of them? i fear, madam, ye shall not." herewith the queen, being somewhat offended, passed to her supper. john knox left her, informed the earl of moray of the whole reasoning, and departed, of final purpose to return to edinburgh, without any further communication with the queen. but before sunrise, upon the morrow, two messengers were directed to him, commanding him not to depart until he spake with the queen's majesty. this he did, meeting her at the hawking be-west kinross. whether it was the night's sleep or a deep dissimulation locked in her breast that made her forget her former anger, wise men may doubt; but concerning that she never moved word, and began divers other purposes, such as the offering of a ring to her by the lord ruthven. _queen._ i cannot love lord ruthven, for i know him to use enchantment, and yet is he one of my privy council. _knox._ whom blames your grace for that? _queen._ lethington was the whole cause. _knox._ that man is absent for the present, madam; and, therefore, i will say nothing on that subject. _queen._ i understand that ye are appointed to go to dumfries, for the election of a superintendent to be established in these countries. _knox._ yes, those quarters have great need, and some of the gentlemen so require. _queen._ but i hear that the bishop of athens would be superintendent. _knox._ he is one, madam, that is put in election. _queen._ if ye knew him as well as i do, ye would never promote him to that office, nor yet to any other within your kirk. _knox._ what he has been, madam, i neither know, nor yet will i inquire. in time of darkness, what could we do but grope and go wrong even as darkness carried us? if he fear not god now, he deceives many more than me. and yet, madam, i am assured that god will not suffer his church to be so far deceived as that an unworthy man shall be elected, where free election is, and the spirit of god is earnestly called upon to decide betwixt the two. _queen._ well, do as ye will, but that man is a dangerous man. therein the queen was not deceived; for he had corrupted most part of the gentlemen, not only to nominate him, but also to elect him. this perceived, the said john, commissioner, delayed the election, and left mr. robert pont (who was put in election with the foresaid bishop) with the master of maxwell, that his doctrine and conversation might be the better tried by those that had not known him before. so the bishop was frustrated of his purpose, for that time. yet was he, at that time, the man that was most familiar with the said john, in his house and at table. when the queen had talked long with john knox, he being oft willing to take his leave, she said, "i have to open unto you one of the greatest matters that have touched me since i came to this realm, and i must have your help in it." then she began to make a long discourse concerning her sister, the lady argyll, how that she was not so circumspect in all things as she wished her to be. _queen._ yet, my lord, her husband, whom i love, treats her not in many things so honestly and so godly, as i think ye yourself would require. _knox._ madam, i have been troubled with that matter before, and once i put such an end to it, before your grace's arrival, that both she and her friends seemed fully to stand content. she herself promised before her friends that she should never complain to creature until i should first understand their controversy by her own mouth or an assured messenger. i have heard nothing from her; and, therefore, i think there is nothing but concord. _queen._ well, it is worse than ye believe. do this much for my sake, as once again to put them at unity. if she behave not herself as she ought to do, she shall find no favours of me. but let not my lord know in anywise what i have requested of you in this matter; for i would be very sorry to offend him in that or any other thing. and now, as touching our reasoning yesternight, i promise to do as ye required. i shall cause all offenders to be summoned, and ye shall know that i shall minister justice. _knox._ i am assured, then, that ye shall please god, and enjoy rest and tranquillity within your realm; and that is more profitable to your majesty than all the pope's power can be. and thus they parted. this conference we have inserted to let the world see how deeply mary, queen of scotland, can dissemble; and how she could cause men to think that she bare no indignation for any controversy in religion, while in her heart there was nothing but venom and destruction, as did appear shortly after. [sidenote: john knox writes to the earl of argyll.] john knox departed, and prepared himself for his journey to dumfries; and from glasgow, according to the queen's commandment, he wrote to the earl of argyll.... this letter was not well accepted by the said earl; and yet he uttered no part of his displeasure in public, but contrarily showed himself most familiar with the said john. he kept the diet at which the bishop and the rest of the papists were accused, and sat in judgment himself. [sidenote: the massmongers are tried: th may .] the summonses were directed against the massmongers with expedition, and in the straitest form. the nineteenth day of may was appointed, a day only before the parliament. of the pope's knights there compeared the archbishop of st. andrews, the prior of whithorn, the parson of sanquhar, william hamilton of cammiskeyth, john gordon of barskeocht, with divers others. the protestants convened to crave for justice. the queen asked counsel of the bishop of ross, and of the old laird of lethington (for the younger was absent, and so the protestants had the fewer unfriends), and they affirmed that she must see her laws kept, or else she would get no obedience. so preparation was made for their accusations. the archbishop, with his band of the exempted sort, made it nice[ ] to enter before the earl of argyll, who sat in judgment; but at last he was compelled to enter within the bar. a merry man who now sleeps in the lord, robert norwell, instead of the bishop's cross, bare before him a steel hammer. the archbishop and his band were not a little offended at this, because the bishops' privileges were not then current in scotland, which day god grant our posterity may see of longer continuance than we possessed it. the archbishop and his fellows, after much ado, and long drift of time, came within the queen's will, and were committed to ward, some to one place, some to another. the lady erskine, a sweet morsel for the devil's mouth, got the bishops for her part. [ ] made scruple. [sidenote: parliament of may .] all this was done in a most deep craft, to abuse the simplicity of the protestants, so that they should not press the queen with any other thing concerning matter of religion at that parliament, which began within two days thereafter. she obtained of the protestants whatsoever she desired; for thus reasoned many, "we see what the queen has done; the like of this was never heard of within the realm: we will bear with the queen; we doubt not but all shall be well." others were of a contrary judgment, and forespake things as they afterwards came to pass. they said that nothing was meant but deceit; and that the queen, as soon as ever parliament was past, would set the papists at freedom. they therefore urged the nobility not to be abused. but because many had their private commodity to be handled at that parliament, the common cause was the less regarded. [sidenote: queen mary's influence: "vox dianae."] such stinking pride of women as was seen at that parliament was never seen before in scotland. three sundry days the queen rode to the tolbooth. on the first day she made a painted oration; and there might have been heard among her flatterers, "_vox dianae!_ the voice of a goddess, and not of a woman! god save that sweet face! was there ever orator that spake so properly and so sweetly!" [sidenote: reformation is hindered by personal interests.] all things misliking the preachers, they spake boldly against the targetting of their tails,[ ] and against the rest of the vanity of those foolish women. this they affirmed should provoke god's vengeance, not only against them, but against the whole realm; and especially against those that maintained them in that odious abusing of things that might have been better bestowed. articles were presented, proposing to parliament that order be taken in regard to apparel, and for reformation of other enormities; but all was scripped at. the earldom of moray needed confirmation, and many things that concerned the help of friends and servants were to be ratified, and therefore they might not urge the queen. if they did so, she would hold no parliament; and what then should become of them that had melled[ ] with the slaughter of the earl of huntly? let that parliament pass over, and when the queen asked anything of the nobility, as she must do before her marriage, then should the religion be the first thing that should be established. it was answered that the poets and painters had not altogether erred when they feigned and painted occasion with a head bald behind: for when the first chance is offered and lost, it is hard to recover it again. [ ] bordering of gowns with tassels. [ ] meddled. [sidenote: john knox breaks with the earl of moray.] the matter became so hot betwixt the earl of moray and some others of the court, and john knox, that after that time they spake not together familiarly for more than a year and a half. the said john, by letter, gave a discharge to the said earl of all further intromission or care with his affairs. he made discourse of their first acquaintance; in what estate he was when first they spake together in london; how god had promoted him, even beyond man's judgment; and in the end he made this conclusion: "but seeing that i perceive myself frustrated of my expectation that ye should have ever preferred god to your own affection, and the advancement of his truth to your singular commodity, i commit you to your own wit, and to the guidance of those who better can please you. i praise my god, i this day leave you victor of your enemies, promoted to great honours, and in credit and authority with your sovereign. if ye long continue so, none within the realm shall be more glad than i shall be; but if after this day ye shall decay, as i fear that ye shall, then call to mind by what means god exalted you; that was neither by bearing with impiety, nor by maintaining pestilent papists." this bill[ ] and discharge so pleased the flatterers of the earl, that they triumphed, and were glad to have gotten their occasion; for some envied the great familiarity that had been betwixt the said earl and john knox. therefore, from the time that they once got that occasion to separate them, they ceased not to cast oil in the burning flame, and this ceased not to burn, until god, by water of affliction, began to slocken it. lest they should seem to have altogether forsaken god (in very deed both god and his word were far from the hearts of the most part of the courtiers in that age, a few excepted), they began a new shift. they spoke of the punishment of adultery, and of witchcraft, and to seek the restitution of the glebes and manses to the ministers of the kirk, and the reparation of churches: thereby they thought to have pleased the godly that were highly offended at their slackness. [ ] letter. [sidenote: inept legislation.] the act of oblivion was passed, because some of the lords had interest; but the acts against adultery, and for the manses and glebes, were so modified, that no law and such law might stand _in eodem predicamento_. to speak plainly, no law and such acts were both alike. the acts are in print: let wise men read, and then accuse us, if we complain without cause. [sidenote: john knox preaches a faithful sermon to the lords.] in the progress of this corruption, and before the parliament dissolved, john knox, in his sermon before the most part of the nobility, entered on a deep discourse concerning god's mercies to the realm, and the ingratitude which he espied in almost the whole multitude, albeit god had marvellously delivered them from the bondage and tyranny both of body and soul. "and now, my lords," said he, "i praise my god, through jesus christ, that, in your own presence, i may pour forth the sorrows of my heart; yea, yourselves shall be witness if i shall make any lie in things that are by-past. from the beginning of god's mighty working within this realm, i have been with you in your most desperate temptations. ask your own consciences, and let them answer you before god, if i--not i, but god's spirit by me--in your greatest extremity did not urge you ever to depend upon your god, and in his name promised you victory and preservation from your enemies, if ye would only depend upon his protection, and prefer his glory to your own lives and worldly commodity. "i have been with you in your most extreme dangers. perth, cupar moor, and the crags of edinburgh are yet recent in my heart. yea, that dark and dolorous night, wherein ye all, my lords, with shame and fear left this town, is yet in my mind; god forbid that i ever forget it. ye yourselves yet live to testify what was my exhortation to you, and what is fallen in vain of all that ever god promised to you by my mouth. not one of you, against whom death and destruction were threatened, perished in that danger. how many of your enemies has god plagued before your eyes! shall this be the thankfulness that ye shall render unto your god, to betray his cause, when ye have it in your own hands to establish it as ye please? the queen, say ye, will not agree with us. ask of her that which by god's word ye may justly require, and if she will not agree with you in god, ye are not bound to agree with her in the devil. let her plainly understand your minds, and steal not from your former stoutness in god, and he shall yet prosper you in your enterprises. "but i can see nothing but a recoiling from christ jesus: the man that first and most speedily fleeth from christ's ensign holdeth himself most happy. yea, i hear that some say that we have nothing of our religion established, by law or by parliament. albeit the malicious words of such can neither hurt the truth of god, nor yet those of us that thereupon depend, the speaker, for his treason, committed against god and against this poor commonwealth, deserves the gallows. our religion, being commanded and established by god, has been accepted within this realm in public parliament; if they say that was no parliament, we must and will say, and also prove, that that parliament was as lawful as ever any that passed before it within this realm. yea, if the king then living was king, and the queen now in this realm be lawful queen, that parliament cannot be denied. "and now, my lords, to put an end to all, i hear of the queen's marriage. dukes, brethren to emperors, and kings strive all for the best game; but this will i say, my lords--note the day and bear witness afterwards--whensoever the nobility of scotland, professing the lord jesus, consent that an infidel (and all papists are infidels) shall be head to your sovereign, so far as in ye lieth, ye do banish christ jesus from this realm; ye bring god's vengeance upon the country, a plague upon yourselves, and perchance small comfort to your sovereign." [sidenote: papists and protestants take offence: john knox is summoned by the queen.] these words and this manner of speaking were judged intolerable. papists and protestants were both offended; yea, the most familiar friends of knox disdained him for that utterance. placeboes and flatterers posted to the court to give information that he had spoken against the queen's marriage, and the provost of lincluden, douglas of drumlanrig by surname, brought the charge that the said john knox should present himself before the queen. this he did soon after dinner. the lord ochiltree, and divers of the faithful, bare him company to the abbey; but none passed in to the queen with him in the cabinet but john erskine of dun, then superintendent of angus and mearns. the queen, in a vehement fume, began to cry out that never prince was handled as she was. _queen._ i have borne with you in all your rigorous manner of speaking, both against myself and against my uncles; yea, i have sought your favours by all possible means. i offered unto you presence and audience whensoever it pleased you to admonish me; and yet i cannot be quit of you. i avow to god, i shall be once revenged. at these words, scarcely could marna, her secret chamber boy, get napkins[ ] to hold her eyes dry for the tears; and howling, besides womanly weeping, stayed her speech. the said john did patiently abide all the first fume, and at opportunity answered. [ ] pocket-handkerchiefs. _knox._ true it is, madam, your grace and i have been at divers controversies, in which i never perceived your grace to be offended at me. but, when it shall please god to deliver you from that bondage of darkness and error in which ye have been nourished for the lack of true doctrine, your majesty will find in the liberty of my tongue nothing offensive. outside the preaching place, madam, i think few have occasion to be offended at me; and there, madam, i am not master of myself, but must obey him who commands me to speak plain, and to flatter no flesh upon the face of the earth. _queen._ but what have ye to do with my marriage? _knox._ if it please your majesty to hear me patiently, i shall show the truth in plain words. i grant your grace offered me more than ever i required; but my answer was then, as it is now, that god hath not sent me to wait upon the courts of princesses, or upon the chambers of ladies. i am sent to preach the evangel of jesus christ to such as please to hear it. it hath two parts, repentance and faith. and now, madam, in preaching repentance, it is necessary that the sins of men be so noted that they may know wherein they offend; but the most part of your nobility are so addicted to your affections, that neither god, his word, nor yet their commonwealth are rightly regarded. therefore it becomes me so to speak, that they may know their duty. _queen._ what have ye to do with my marriage? or what are ye within this commonwealth? _knox._ a subject born within the same, madam. and, albeit i be neither earl, lord, nor baron within it, god has made me a profitable member within the same, however abject i be in your eyes. yea, madam, it appertains to me to forewarn of such things as may hurt that commonwealth, if i foresee them, no less than it does to any of the nobility. both my vocation and conscience crave plainness of me. therefore, madam, to yourself i say that which i speak in public place. whensoever the nobility of this realm shall consent that ye be subject to an unfaithful husband, they do as much as in them lieth to renounce christ, to banish his truth from them, to betray the freedom of this realm, and perchance they shall in the end do small comfort to yourself. at these words, howling was heard, and tears might have been seen in greater abundance than the matter required. john erskine of dun, a man of meek and gentle spirit, stood beside, and entreated what he could do to mitigate her anger, giving her many pleasing words of her beauty, of her excellence, and saying that all the princes of europe would be glad to seek her favours. but all this was to cast oil in the flaming fire. the said john stood still, without any alteration of countenance for a long season, while the queen gave place to her inordinate passion. in the end he said, "madam, i speak in god's presence. i never delighted in the weeping of any of god's creatures; yea, i can scarcely well abide the tears of my own boys whom my own hand corrects, much less can i rejoice in your majesty's weeping. seeing, however, that i have offered you no just occasion to be offended, but have spoken the truth as my vocation craves of me, i must sustain your majesty's tears, albeit unwillingly, rather than dare hurt my conscience, or betray my commonwealth through my silence." herewith was the queen more offended, and commanded the said john to leave the cabinet, and to abide her pleasure in the chamber. the laird of dun tarried, and lord john of coldingham came into the cabinet, and there they both remained with her for nearly an hour. the said john stood in the chamber, as one whom men had never seen, so afraid were all, except that the lord ochiltree bare him company. therefore began he to forge talk with the ladies who were sitting there in all their gorgeous apparel. this espied, he merrily said, "o fair ladies, how pleasing were this life of yours if it should ever abide, and in the end we might pass to heaven with all this gay gear. fie upon that knave death, who will come whether we will or not! when he has laid on his arrest, the foul worms will be busy with this flesh, be it never so fair and so tender; and the silly soul shall, i fear, be so feeble that it can neither carry with it gold, garnishing, targetting, pearl, nor precious stones." by such means procured he the company of women; and so passed the time until the laird of dun desired him to depart to his house. the queen would have sought the censement of the lords of articles as to whether such manner of speaking as that of the said john deserved not punishment; but she was counselled to desist: and so that storm quieted in appearance, but never in the heart. [sidenote: lethington's return: his worldly wisdom displayed.] shortly after the parliament, lethington returned from his negotiation in england and france. in the february before, god had stricken that bloody tyrant the duke of guise, and this somewhat broke the fard[ ] of our queen for a season. but, shortly after the return of lethington, pride and malice began to show themselves again. she set at liberty the archbishop of st. andrews, and the rest of the papists, formerly put in prison for violating the laws. lethington showed himself not a little offended that any bruit of the queen's marriage with the son of the king of spain should have risen; for he took upon him that such a thing never entered into her heart. how true that was, we shall afterwards hear. the object of all his acquaintance and complaint was to discredit john knox, who had affirmed that such a marriage was both proponed and accepted by the cardinal upon the part of our queen. in his absence, lethington had run into a very evil bruit among the nobility for too much serving the queen's affections against the commonwealth; and therefore, as one that lacketh no worldly wisdom, he had made provision both in england and in scotland. in england he had travailed for the freedom of the earl bothwell, and by that means obtained promise of his favour. he had there also made arrangements for the home-coming of the earl of lennox. in scotland, he joined with the earl of atholl: him he promoted and set forward in court, and so the earl of moray began to be defaced. and yet lethington at all times showed a fair countenance to the said earl. [ ] ardour; violence. [sidenote: the queen retains observance of the mass.] the queen spent the rest of that summer in her progress throughout the west country, where in all towns and gentlemen's places she had her mass. this coming to the ears of john knox, he began that form of prayer which ordinarily he sayeth after thanksgiving at his table: " . deliver us, o lord, from the bondage of idolatry. . preserve and keep us from the tyranny of strangers. . continue us in quietness and concord amongst ourselves, if thy good pleasure be, o lord, for a season," etc. divers of the familiars of the said john asked him why he prayed for quietness to continue for a season, and not rather absolutely that we should continue in quietness. his answer was that he durst not pray but in faith; and faith in god's word assured him that constant quietness could not continue in that realm where idolatry had been suppressed, and then been permitted to be erected again. from the west country, the queen passed to argyll to the hunting, and afterwards returned to stirling. the earl of moray, the lord robert of holyroodhouse, and lord john of coldingham, passed to the northland. justice courts were holden; thieves and murderers were punished; two witches were burned, the elder so blinded with the devil that she affirmed that no judge had power over her. [sidenote: the death of lord john of coldingham.] at that same time, lord john of coldingham departed this life in inverness. it was affirmed that he commanded such as were beside him to say to the queen that, unless she left off her idolatry, god would not fail to plague her. he asked god's mercy that he had so far borne with her in her impiety, and had maintained her in the same. no one thing did he more regret than that he had flattered, fostered, and maintained her in her wickedness against god and his servants. and in very deed he had great cause to lament his wickedness; for, besides all his other infirmities, he, in the end, for the queen's pleasure, became enemy to virtue and virtuous men, and a patron to impiety to the uttermost of his power. yea, his venom was so kindled against god and his word, that in his rage he burst forth with these words: "before i see the queen's majesty so troubled with the railing of these knaves, i shall have the best of them sticked in the pulpit." what further villainy came forth from the stinking throats and mouths of both, modesty will not suffer us to write. if lord john had grace to repent unfeignedly thereof, it is no small document to god's mercies. howsoever god wrought with him, the queen regarded his words as wind, or else thought them to have been forged by others, and not to have proceeded from himself. she affirmed plainly that they were devised by the laird of pittarrow and mr. john wood, both of whom she hated, because they did not flatter her in her dancing and other doings. one thing in plain words she spake, "god always took from her those persons in whom she had greatest pleasure:" that she repented; but of further wickedness there was no mention. [sidenote: mass-mongers at holyrood take fright.] while the queen lay at stirling, with her idolatry in her chapel, certain dontibours and others of the french menyie were left in the palace of holyroodhouse. these raised up their mass more publicly than they had done at any time before. upon those same sundays that the church of edinburgh had the ministration of the lord's table, the papists, in great numbers, resorted to the abbey, to their abomination. this understood, divers of the brethren, being sorely offended, consulted as to redress of that enormity. certain of the most zealous and most upright in the religion, were appointed to watch the abbey, and note the persons who resorted to the mass. perceiving a great number to enter the chapel, some of the brethren did also burst in. thereat the priest and the french dames, being afraid, made the shout to be sent to the town; while madame raulet, mistress of the queen's dontibours (for maids that court could not then bear) posted on with all diligence to the comptroller, the laird of pittarrow, who was then in st. giles's kirk at the sermon, and cried for his assistance, to save her life and to save the queen's palace. he, with greater haste than need required, obeyed her desire, and took with him the provost, the bailies, and a great part of the faithful. but when they came to the place where the fear was bruited to have been, they found all things quiet, except the tumult they brought with themselves, and peaceable men looking to the papists, and forbidding them to transgress the laws. [sidenote: the papists devise mischief.] true it is that a zealous brother, named patrick cranston, passed into the chapel, and finding the altar covered, and the priest ready to go to that abomination, the mass, said, "the queen's majesty is not here; how darest thou then be so malapert, as openly to do against the law?" no further was done or said, and yet the bruit was posted to the queen, with such information as the papists could give; and this found as much credit as their hearts could have wished for. here was so heinous a crime in her eyes, that there was no satisfaction for that sin, without blood. without delay, andrew armstrong and patrick cranston were summoned to find surety to underlie the law, for "forethought, felony, hamesucken,[ ] violent invasion of the queens palace, and for spoliation of the same." [ ] the crime of beating or assaulting a person within his own house. when those summonses were divulged, the extremity was feared, and the few brethren that were in town consulted as to the next remedy. in the end, it was concluded that john knox (to whom the charge had been given to spread intelligence whenever danger should appear) should write to the brethren in all quarters, giving information as to how the matter stood, and requiring their assistance. this he did in tenor as here follows-- [sidenote: john knox's letter to the brethren: th october .] "'wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am i in the midst of them.' "it is not unknown unto you, dear brethren, what comfort and tranquillity god gave to us, in most dangerous times, by our christian assemblies, and godly conferences, as oft as any danger appeared to any member or members of our body: and that, since we have neglected, or at least not frequented our conventions and assemblies, the adversaries of the holy evangel of christ jesus have enterprised, and boldened themselves, publicly and secretly, to do many things odious in god's presence, and most hurtful to the liberty of true religion, now granted unto us by god's great favour. the holy sacraments are abused by profane papists. masses have been, and yet are, openly said and maintained. the blood of some of our dearest ministers has been shed, without fear of punishment or correction being craved by us. "and now, are two of our dear brethren, patrick cranston and andrew armstrong, summoned to underlie the law, in the town of edinburgh, the th of this instant october, 'for forethought, felony, pretended murder, and for invading the queen's majesty's palace of holyroodhouse, with unlawful convocation,' etc. this terrible summons is directed against our brethren, because they, with two or three more, passed to the abbey upon sunday, the th of august, to behold and note what persons repaired to the mass. they did so, because on the sunday before (the queen's grace being absent) there resorted to that idol a rascal multitude, the papists having openly the least devilish ceremony,[ ] yea, even the conjuring of their accursed water, that ever they had in the time of greatest blindness. because, i say, our said brethren went, in most quiet manner, to note such abusers, these fearful summonses are directed against them; no doubt, to make preparation upon a few, that a door may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude. if it so come to pass, god, no doubt, has justly recompensed our former negligence and ingratitude towards him and his benefits received in our own bosoms. [ ] the papistical ceremony, down to its minutest details (?). "god gave to us a most notable victory over his and our enemies: he brake their strength, and confounded their counsels: he set us at freedom, and purged this realm, for the most part, of open idolatry; to the end that we, ever mindful of so wondrous a deliverance, should have kept this realm clean from such vile filthiness, and damnable idolatry. but we, alas! preferring the pleasure of flesh and blood to the pleasure and commandment of our god, have suffered that idol, the mass, to be erected again; and therefore justly does he now suffer us to fall into such danger that to look at an idolater going to his idolatry shall be reputed a crime little inferior to treason. god grant that we fall not further. "god has, of his mercy, made me one amongst many to travail in setting forward his true religion within this realm, and i, seeing the same in danger of ruin, cannot but of conscience crave of you, my brethren, of all estates, that have professed the truth, your presence, comfort, and assistance, on the said day, in the town of edinburgh, even as ye tender the advancement of god's glory, the safety of your brethren, and your own assurance, together with the preservation of the kirk in these apparent dangers. "it may be, perchance, that persuasion will be made to the contrary, and that ye may be informed either that your assembly is not necessary, or else that it will offend the upper powers. but my good hope is that neither flattery nor fear shall make you so far to decline from christ jesus as that, against your public promise and solemn bond, ye will desert your brethren in so just a cause. albeit there were no great danger, our assembly cannot be unprofitable; many things require consultation, and this cannot be had, unless the wisest and godliest convene. thus, doubting nothing of the assistance of our god if we uniformly seek his glory, i cease further to trouble you, committing you heartily to the protection of the eternal." [sidenote: john knox is betrayed.] the brethren, advertised by this bill, prepared themselves (as many as were thought expedient for every town and province) to keep the day appointed. but by the means of false brethren, the letter came to the hands of the queen, in this manner. it was read in the town of ayr, where was present robert cunningham, minister of failford, who then was reputed an earnest professor of the evangel. he, by means we know not, got the said letter, and sent it with his token to master henry sinclair, then president of the seat and college of justice, and styled bishop of ross, a perfect hypocrite, and a conjured enemy of christ jesus, whom god afterwards struck according to his deservings. the said mr. henry was enemy to all that unfeignedly professed the lord jesus, but chiefly to john knox, for the liberty of his tongue; for he had affirmed, as ever still he doth affirm, that a bishop that receives profit, and feeds not the flock by his own labours, is both a thief and a murderer. the said mr. henry, thinking himself happy to have found so good occasion to trouble john knox, whose life he hated, posted the said letter, with his counsel, to the queen, who then lay in stirling. [sidenote: john knox is accused of high treason.] the letter being read, it was concluded by the council of the cabinet, that is, by the most secret council, that it imported treason; and the queen was not a little rejoiced, for she thought to be revenged for once on her great enemy. it was also concluded that the nobility should be written for, that the condemnation should have the greater authority. the day appointed was about the midst of december; and this was kept by the whole council, and by divers others, such as the master of maxwell, the old laird of lethington, and the said president. in the meantime, the earl of moray returned from the north, and to him the secretary lethington opened the matter as best pleased him. the master of maxwell gave the said john as it had been a discharge of the familiarity which before was great between them, unless he would agree to satisfy the queen at her own sight.[ ] [ ] that is, as she should dictate. _knox._ i know no offence done by me to the queen's majesty, and therefore i wot not what satisfaction to make. _maxwell._ no offence! have ye not written letters desiring the brethren to convene from all parts to andrew armstrong and patrick cranston's day? _knox._ that i grant, but therein i acknowledge no offence done by me. _maxwell._ no offence, to convocate the queen's lieges? _knox._ not for so just a cause: greater things were reputed no offence within these two years past. _maxwell._ the time is now other: then our sovereign was absent, and now she is present. _knox._ it is neither the absence nor the presence of the queen that rules my conscience, but god speaking plainly in his word. what was lawful to me last year is yet lawful, because my god is unchangeable. _maxwell._ well, i have given you my counsel, do as ye list; but i think ye shall repent it, if ye bow not to the queen. _knox._ i understand not, master, what ye mean. i never made myself an adversary to the queen's majesty, except in the head of religion, and therein i think ye will not desire me to bow. _maxwell._ well, ye are wise enough; but ye will find that men will not bear with you in times to come, as they have done in times by-past. _knox._ if god stand my friend, as i am assured he of his mercy will, so long as i depend upon his promise, and prefer his glory to my life and worldly profit, i little regard how men behave themselves towards me; nor yet know i wherein men have borne with me in times past, unless it be that from my mouth they have heard the word of god. if, in times to come, they refuse it, my heart will be pierced and for a season will lament; but the incommodity will be their own. after these words, of which the laird of lochinvar was witness, they parted. to this day, the th of december, , they have not met in such familiarity as they had formerly. [sidenote: the lord advocate gives his opinion.] the bruit of the accusation of john knox being divulged, mr. john spens of condie, lord advocate, a man of gentle nature, and one that professed the doctrine of the evangel, came, as it were in secret, to john knox, to inquire the cause of that great bruit. the said john was plain to him in all things, and showed him the double[ ] of the letter. when he had heard and considered this, he said, "i thank my god. i came to you with a fearful and sorrowful heart, fearing that ye had done such a crime as laws might have punished. that would have been no small trouble to the hearts of all who have received the word of life which ye have preached. i depart greatly rejoiced, as well because i perceive your own comfort, even in the midst of your troubles, as that i clearly understand that ye have committed no such crime as ye are burdened with. ye will be accused, but god will assist you." and so he departed. [ ] duplicate. [sidenote: the earl of moray and secretary lethington reason with john knox.] the earl of moray and the secretary sent for the said john knox to the clerk of register's house, and began to lament that he had so highly offended the queen's majesty. that, they feared, would come to a great inconvenience to himself, if he were not wisely foreseen. they showed what pains and travail they had taken to mitigate her anger, but they could find nothing but extremity, unless he himself would confess his offence, and put himself in her grace's will. _knox._ i praise my god, through jesus christ, that i have learned not to cry conjuration and treason at everything that the godless multitude does condemn, or yet to fear the things that they fear. i have the testimony of a good conscience that i have given no occasion to the queen's majesty to be offended with me; for i have done nothing but my duty. so, whatsoever shall ensue, my good hope is that my god will give me patience to bear it. but far be it from me to confess an offence where my conscience witnesseth there is none. _lethington._ how can it be defended? have ye not made convocation of the queen's lieges? _knox._ if i have not a just defence for my act, let me smart for it. _moray._ let us hear your defences; we would be glad that ye might be found innocent. _knox._ nay, i am informed by divers, and even by you, my lord secretary, that i am already condemned, and my cause prejudged. therefore i might be reputed a fool, if i would make you privy to my defences. at those words they seemed both offended; and the secretary departed. but the earl of moray remained still, and would have entered into further discourse with the said john concerning the state of the court. but he answered, "my lord, i understand more than i would of the affairs of the court; and therefore it is not needful that your lordship trouble with the recounting of it. if you stand in good case, i am content; and if you do not, as i fear ye do not already, or else ye shall not do before long, blame not me. ye have the counsellors whom ye have chosen; my weak judgment both ye and they despised. i can do nothing but behold the end, which i pray god may be other than my troubled heart feareth." [sidenote: john knox is brought before the queen and privy council.] within four days, the said john was called before the queen and council betwixt six and seven o'clock at night. the season of the year was the midst of december. the bruit rising in the town that john knox was sent for by the queen, the brethren of the kirk followed in such number that the inner close was full, and all the stairs, even to the chamber door where the queen and council sat. these had been reasoning amongst themselves before, but had not fully satisfied the secretary's mind. and so the queen had retired to her cabinet, and the lords were talking each one with other, as occasion served. upon the entrance of john knox, they were commanded to take their places, and did so, sitting as councillors, one opposite another. the duke of chatelherault, according to his dignity, began the one side. upon the other side sat the earl of argyll, and in order of precedence followed the earl of moray, the earl of glencairn, the earl marischall, the lord ruthven, then the common officers, pittarrow, then comptroller, the justice clerk, and mr. john spens of condie, lord advocate; divers others stood by. removed from the table sat old lethington, father to the secretary, mr. henry sinclair, then bishop of ross, and mr. james m'gill, clerk register. [sidenote: the trial of john knox for high treason.] things thus put in order, the queen came forth, and, with no little worldly pomp, was placed in the chair, having two faithful supporters, the master of maxwell upon the one tor[ ] and secretary lethington on the other tor of the chair. there they waited diligently all the time of that accusation, sometimes the one occupying her ear, sometimes the other. her pomp lacked one principal point, to wit, womanly gravity; for when she saw john knox standing at the other end of the table bare-headed, she first smiled, and after gave a gawf of laughter. when her placeboes gave their plaudits, affirming, with like countenance, "this is a good beginning," she said: "but wot ye whereat i laugh? yon man gared me greet,[ ] and grat never tear himself: i will see if i can gar him greet." at that word the secretary whispered her in the ear, and she him again, and with that gave him a letter. after inspecting this, he directed his visage and speech to john knox. [ ] arm. [ ] weep. _lethington._ the queen's majesty is informed that ye have travailed to raise a tumult of her subjects against her, and for certification thereof, there is presented to her your own letter subscribed in your name. yet, because her grace will do nothing without a good advisement, she has convened you before this part of the nobility, that they may witness betwixt you and her. _queen._ let him acknowledge his own handwriting, and then shall we judge of the contents of the letter. so the letter was presented from hand to hand to john knox, who examined it. _knox._ i gladly acknowledge this to be my handwriting; and also i remember that i indited a letter to the brethren in sundry quarters, in the month of october, giving signification of such things as displeased me. so good opinion have i of the fidelity of the scribes that they would not willingly adulterate my original, albeit i left divers subscribed blanks with them, i acknowledge both handwriting and ditement.[ ] [ ] what is written. _lethington._ ye have done more than i would have done. _knox._ charity is not suspicious. _queen._ well, well, read your own letter, and then answer to such things as shall be demanded of you. _knox._ i shall do the best i can. with loud voice he began to read the letter already quoted. after it was read to the end, it was presented again to mr. john spens; for the queen commanded him to accuse, as he afterwards did, but very gently. _queen._ heard ye ever, my lords, a more despiteful and treasonable letter? no man gave answer, and lethington addressed himself to john knox. _lethington._ master knox, are ye not sorry from your heart, and do you not repent that such a letter has passed your pen, and from you is come to the knowledge of others. _knox._ my lord secretary, before i repent i must be taught of my offence. _lethington._ offence! if there were no more than the convocation of the queen's lieges, the offence could not be denied. _knox._ remember yourself, my lord. there is a difference betwixt a lawful convocation, and an unlawful. if i have been guilty in this, i have often offended since i came last to scotland: for what convocation of the brethren has ever been to this day in which my pen served not? before this, no man laid it to my charge as a crime. _lethington._ then was then, and now is now. we have no need of such convocations as sometimes we have had. _knox._ the time that has been is even now before my eyes; for i see the poor flock in no less danger than it has been at any time before, except that the devil has gotten a visor upon his face. before, he came in with his own face, discovered by open tyranny, seeking the destruction of all that refused idolatry: and then, i think ye will confess, the brethren lawfully assembled themselves for defence of their lives. now the devil comes under the cloak of justice, to do that which god would not suffer him to do by strength. _queen._ what is this? methinks ye trifle with him. who gave him authority to make convocation of my lieges? is not that treason? _lord ruthven._ no, madam, for he makes convocation of the people to hear prayer and sermon almost daily; and, whatever your grace or others think thereof, we think it no treason. _queen._ hold your peace, and let him make answer for himself. _knox._ madam, i began to reason with the secretary, whom i take to be a far better dialectician than your grace is, that all convocations are not unlawful. and now my lord ruthven has given the instance. if your grace will deny this, i shall address myself to the proof. _queen._ i will say nothing against your religion, nor against your convening to your sermons. but what authority have ye to convocate my subjects when ye will, without my commandment? _knox._ i have no pleasure to decline from the former purpose. and yet, madam, to satisfy your grace's two questions, i answer that at my will i never convened four persons in scotland; but, upon the instructions of the brethren, i have given divers notifications, and great multitudes have assembled. if your grace complain that this was done without your grace's commandment, i answer--so has all that god has blessed within this realm from the beginning of this action. therefore, madam, i must be convicted by a just law that i have done against the duty of god's messenger in writing this letter, before either i be sorry, or yet repent for the doing of it, as my lord secretary would persuade me. what i have done, i have done at the commandment of the general kirk of this realm; and, therefore, i think i have done no wrong. _queen._ ye shall not escape so. is it not treason, my lords, to accuse a prince of cruelty? i think there be acts of parliament against such whisperers. that was granted by many. _knox._ but wherein can i be accused? _queen._ read this part of your own bill, which began, "these fearful summonses are directed against them, to wit the brethren foresaid, to make, no doubt, preparation upon a few, that a door may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude." lo, what say ye to that? many doubted what the said john should answer. _knox._ is it lawful for me, madam, to answer for myself? or shall i be condemned before i be heard? _queen._ say what ye can, for i think ye have enough ado. _knox._ i will first, then, desire this of your grace, madam, and of this most honourable audience, whether your grace knows not that the obstinate papists are deadly enemies to all such as profess the evangel of jesus christ, and that they most earnestly desire the extermination of them, and of the true doctrine that is taught within this realm? the queen held her peace; but all the lords, with common voice, said, "god forbid that either the lives of the faithful, or yet the staying of teaching and preaching, stood in the power of the papists: just experience has told us what cruelty lies in their hearts." _knox._ i must proceed, then, seeing that i perceive that all will grant that it was a barbarous cruelty to destroy such a multitude as profess the evangel of jesus christ within this realm. this, oftener than once or twice, has been attempted by force, as things done of late days do testify. disappointed by god and his providence, the papists have invented more crafty and dangerous practices, to wit, to make the prince party, under colour of law: what they could not do by open force, they hope to perform by crafty deceit. for who thinks, my lords, that the insatiable cruelty of the papists within this realm shall end in the murdering of these two brethren now unjustly summoned, and more unjustly to be accused? i think no man of judgment can so esteem, but rather the direct contrary; that is, by this few number they intend to prepare a way to bloody enterprises against the whole. therefore, madam, cast up when ye list the acts of your parliament. i have offended nothing against them. in my letter, i accuse neither your grace nor your nature of cruelty. but i affirm yet again that the pestilent papists, who have inflamed your grace without cause against those poor men at this present, are the sons of the devil; and therefore must obey the desires of their father, who has been a liar and a murderer from the beginning. _a councillor._ ye forget yourself, ye are not now in the pulpit. _knox._ i am in the place where i am demanded of conscience to speak the truth; and therefore i speak. the truth i speak, impugn it whoso list. and hereunto i add, madam, that honest, gentle, and meek natures by appearance, may, by wicked and corrupt counsellors, be converted and altered to the direct contrary. we have example in nero, who, in the beginning of his empire, had some natural shame; but, after his flatterers had encouraged him in all impiety, alleging that nothing was either unhonest nor yet unlawful for the personage of him who was emperor above others--when he had drunken of this cup, i say, to what enormities he fell: the histories bear witness. and now, madam, to speak plainly, papists and conjured enemies to jesus christ have your grace's ear patent at all times. i assure your grace they are dangerous counsellors, and that your mother found. as this was said, lethington smiled, and spake secretly to the queen in her ear; what it was, the table heard not. but immediately she addressed her visage, and spake to john knox. _queen._ well, ye speak fair enough here before my lords; but the last time i spake with you secretly, ye caused me greet many salt tears, and said to me stubbornly that ye set not by my greeting. _knox._ madam, because now, the second time, your grace has burdened me with that crime, i must answer, lest for my silence i be holden guilty. if your grace be ripely remembered, the laird of dun, yet living to testify the truth, was present at the time whereof your grace complains. your grace accused me of having irreverently handled you in the pulpit; that i denied. ye said, what ado had i to speak of your marriage? what was i, that i should mell with such matters? i answered that, as touching nature, i was a worm of this earth, and yet a subject of this commonwealth; but as touching the office wherein it had pleased god to place me, i was a watchman, both over the realm and over the kirk of god gathered within the same. for that reason, i was bound in conscience to blow the trumpet publicly, oft as ever i saw any upfall,[ ] any appearing danger, either to the one or to the other. a certain bruit affirmed that traffic of marriage was betwixt your grace and the spanish ally; and as to that i said that if your nobility and estates did agree--unless both ye and your husband should be so straitly bound that neither of you might hurt this commonwealth, nor yet the poor kirk of god within the same--in that case i would pronounce that the consenters were troublers of this commonwealth, and enemies to god, and to his promise[ ] planted within it. at these words, i grant, your grace stormed, and burst forth into an unreasonable weeping. what mitigation the laird of dun would have made, i suppose your grace has not forgotten. while nothing was able to stay your weeping, i was compelled to say, "i take god to record that i never took pleasure to see any creature weep, yea, not my children when my own hands had beaten them, much less can i rejoice to see your grace make such regret. but, seeing that i have offered your grace no such occasion, i must rather suffer your grace to take your own pleasure, before i dare conceal the truth, and so betray both the kirk of god and my commonwealth." these were the most extreme words that i spoke that day. [ ] incident; matter cast up. [ ] evangel. after the secretary had conferred with the queen, he said, "mr. knox, ye may return to your house for this night." "i thank god and the queen's majesty," said the other. "and, madam, i pray god to purge your heart from papistry, and to preserve you from the counsel of flatterers; for, however pleasant they appear to your ear and corrupt affections for the time, experience has told us into what perplexity they have brought famous princes." lethington and the master of maxwell were that night the two stoops[ ] of her chair. [ ] supports. [sidenote: the verdict of the privy council.] john knox being departed, it was demanded of the lords and others that were present, every man by his vote, whether john knox had not offended the queen's majesty. the lords voted uniformly that they could find no offence. the queen had retired to her cabinet. the flatterers of the court, and lethington principally, raged. the queen was brought again, and placed in her chair, and they were commanded to vote over again. this highly offended the whole nobility, who began to speak in open audience. "what! shall the laird of lethington have power to control us: or shall the presence of a woman cause us to offend god, and to condemn an innocent against our conscience, for pleasure of any creature?" and so the whole nobility absolved john knox again, and praised god for his modesty, and for his plain and sensible answers. yea, before the end, it is to be noted that, among so many placeboes, we mean the flatterers of the court, there was not one that plainly durst condemn the poor man that was accused, this same god ruling their tongue, as once he ruled the tongue of balaam, when he would gladly have cursed god's people. [sidenote: the displeasure of the queen.] when this was perceived, the queen began to upbraid mr. henry sinclair, then bishop of ross, and said, hearing his vote to agree with the rest, "trouble not the bairn: i pray you trouble him not; for he is newly wakened out of his sleep. why should not the old fool follow the footsteps of them that have passed before him." the bishop answered coldly, "your grace may consider that it is neither affection to the man, nor yet love to his profession, that moves me to absolve him; but the simple truth, which plainly appears in his defence, draws me after it, albeit others would have condemned him." this said, the lords and whole assisters arose and departed. that night was neither dancing nor fiddling in the court; for madam was disappointed of her purpose, which was to have had john knox at her disposal by vote of her nobility. john knox, absolved by the votes of the greatest part of the nobility from the crime intended against him, even in the presence of the queen, she raged, and the placeboes of the court stormed. and so began new assaults to be made upon the said john, to confess an offence, and to put himself in the queen's will, they promising that his greatest punishment should be to go within the castle of edinburgh, and immediately return to his own home. he answered, "god forbid that my confession should condemn those noble men who for their conscience' sake, and with the displeasure of the queen, have absolved me. and, further, i am assured that ye will not in earnest desire me to confess an offence, unless ye would desire me to cease from preaching: for how can i exhort others to peace and christian quietness, if i confess myself an author and mover of sedition?" [sidenote: the general assembly: december .] at the general assembly of the kirk, the just petitions of the ministers and commissioners of kirks were despised at the first, with these words, "as ministers will not follow our counsels, so will we suffer ministers to labour for themselves, and see what speed they come." and when the whole assembly said, "if the queen will not provide for our ministers, we must; for both third and two-part are rigorously taken from us, and from our tenants." "if others," said one, "will follow my counsel, the gaird[ ] and the papists shall complain as long as our ministers have done." at these words the former sharpness was coloured,[ ] and the speaker alleged that he did not refer to all ministers, but to some to whom the queen was no debtor; for what third received she of burghs? christopher goodman answered, "my lord secretary, if ye can show me what just title either the queen has to the third, or the papists to the two-part, then i think i should solve whether she were debtor to ministers within burghs or not." but thereto he received this check for answer, "_ne sit peregrinus curiosus in aliena republica_;" that is, "let not a stranger be curious in a strange commonwealth." the man of god answered, "albeit i be a stranger in your polity, i am not so in the kirk of god; and its care does no less appertain to me in scotland than if i were in the midst of england." [ ] guard; civil establishment. [ ] modified; dissembled. [sidenote: john knox demands the judgment of his brethren.] many wondered at the silence of john knox; for in all those quick reasonings he opened not his mouth. the cause thereof he himself expressed in those words: "i have travailed, right honourable and beloved brethren, since my last arrival within this realm, in an upright conscience before my god, seeking nothing more, as he is my witness, than the advancement of his glory, and the stability of his kirk within this realm; and yet of late days i have been accused as a seditious man, and as one that usurps to myself power that becomes me not. true it is that i have given notification to the brethren in divers quarters concerning the extremity intended against certain faithful men for looking at a priest going to mass, and for observing those that transgressed just laws; but that therein i have usurped further power than is given to me, until i be condemned by you, i utterly deny. "i say that by you, that is, by the charge of the general assembly, i have as just power to advertise the brethren from time to time of dangers appearing, as i have authority to preach the word of god in the pulpit of edinburgh; for by you i was appointed to the one and to the other; and, therefore, in the name of god, i crave your judgments. the danger that appeared to me in my accusation was not so fearful as were the words that came to my ears dolorous to my heart; for these words were plainly spoken, and that by some protestants, 'what can the pope do more than send forth his letters, and require them to be obeyed.' let me have your judgments whether i have usurped any power to myself, or if i have but obeyed your commandment." the flatterers of the court, amongst whom sir john bellenden, justice clerk, was then not the least, began to storm, and said, "shall we be compelled to justify the rash doings of men?" "my lord," said john knox, "ye shall speak your pleasure for the present: of you i crave nothing; but if the kirk that is here present do not either absolve me, or else condemn me, never shall i in public or in private, as a public minister, open my mouth in doctrine or in reasoning." [sidenote: acquittal of john knox by the general assembly.] the said john being removed, the whole kirk found, after long contention, that a charge was given to him to warn the brethren in all quarters as oft as ever danger appeared; and therefore avowed that act not to be his only, but to be the act of all. thereat were the queen's clawbacks[ ] more enraged than ever they were before; for some of them had promised to the queen to get the said john convicted, both by the council and by the kirk; and, being frustrated of both, she and they thought themselves not a little disappointed.... [ ] sycophants. [sidenote: signs of god's displeasure.] god from heaven, and upon the face of the earth, gave declaration that he was offended at the iniquity that was committed even within this realm; for upon the th day of january there fell wet in great abundance, which in falling froze so vehemently, that the earth was but one sheet of ice. the fowls,[ ] both great and small, froze, and might not fly: many died, and some were taken and laid beside the fire, that their feathers might resolve. in that same month the sea stood still, as was clearly observed, and neither ebbed nor flowed for the space of twenty-four hours. in the month of february, the th and th days thereof, there were seen in the firmament battles arrayed, spears and other weapons, and as it had been the joining of two armies. these things were not only observed, but also spoken of and constantly affirmed by men of judgment and credit. [ ] birds. [sidenote: lavish entertainments at court.] but the queen and our court made merry. there was banqueting upon banqueting. the queen banqueted all the lords; and that was done upon policy, to remove the suspicion of her displeasure against them, because they would not, at her devotion, condemn john knox. to remove, we say, that jealousy, she made the banquet to the whole lords, and thereat she would have the duke of chatelherault amongst the rest. it behoved them to banquet her again; and so did banqueting continue till fastern's-e'en[ ] and after. but the poor ministers were mocked, and reputed as monsters; the guard, and the affairs of the kitchen were so griping,[ ] that the ministers' stipends could not be paid. [ ] shrove tuesday; the day before lent. [ ] extortionate. [sidenote: the queen's broken promises.] and yet at the assembly preceding, solemn promise of redress had been made in the queen's name, by the mouth of secretary lethington, in audience of many of the nobility and of the whole assembly. he had affirmed that he had commandment of her highness to promise them full contentation[ ] of things bygone to all the ministers within the realm; and that, such order would be kept in all times to come, the whole body of the protestants would have occasion to stand content. the earl of moray affirmed the same, and many other fair promises had been given in writing by lethington himself, as may be seen from the register of the acts done in the general assembly. but the world can witness how far that, or any other promise by her, or in her name, to the kirk of god, was observed. [ ] satisfaction. [sidenote: secretary lethington defies the servants of god.] the ministers perceiving all things tend to ruin, discharged their conscience in public and private; but they received for their labours hatred and indignation. amongst others, that worthy servant of god, mr. john craig, speaking against the manifest corruption that then declared itself without shame or fear, said, "at one time, hypocrites were known by their disguised habits, and we had men as monks, and women as nuns; but now, all things are so changed that we cannot discern the earl from the abbot, or the nun from such as would be held noblewomen; so that we have got a new order of monks and nuns. but, seeing that ye are not ashamed of that unjust profit, would god that therewith ye had the cowl of the nun, the veil, yea, and the tail joined with all, that so ye might appear in your own colours." their liberty did so provoke the choler of lethington, that, in open audience, he gave himself to the devil, if ever after that day he should regard what became of ministers. he should do what he could that his companions should have a skair[ ] with him; "and let them bark and blow," said he, "as loud as they list." that was the second time that he had given his defiance to the servants of god. [ ] share (?). [sidenote: the courtiers and the kirk.] hereupon rose whispering and complaints by the flatterers of the court. men were not charitably handled, said they: "might not sins be reproved in general, albeit men were not so specially taxed, that all the world might know of whom the preacher spake?" to this the answer was made, "let men be ashamed to offend publicly, and the ministers shall abstain from specialities; but so long as protestants are not ashamed manifestly to act against the evangel of jesus christ, so long cannot the ministers of god cease to cry that god will be revenged upon such abusers of his holy word." thus had the servants of god a double battle; fighting upon the one side against the idolatry and the rest of the abominations maintained by the queen; and upon the other part, against the unthankfulness of such as sometime would have been esteemed the chief pillars of the kirk within the realm. the threatenings of the preachers were fearful; but the court thought itself in such security that it could not miscarry. the queen, after the banqueting, kept a diet by direction of monsieur la usurie, frenchman, who had been acquainted with her malady before, being her physician. and thereafter, for the second time, she made her progresses to the north, and commanded the earl of caithness to ward in the castle of edinburgh, for a murder committed by his servants upon the earl marischall's men. he obeyed, but he was speedily relieved; for bloodthirsty men and papists, such as he is, are best subjects to the queen. "thy kingdom come, o lord; for in this realm there is nothing (amongst such as should punish vice and maintain virtue) but abomination abounding without bridle." [sidenote: the courtiers rouse john knox: he preaches concerning idolatry.] the flatterers of the court did daily enrage against the poor preachers: happiest was he that could invent the most bitter taunts and disdainful mockings of the ministers. at length they began to jest at the term of idolatry, affirming, "that men wist not what they spake when they called the mass idolatry." yea, some proceeded further, and feared not at open tables to affirm, that they would sustain the argument that the mass was no idolatry. these things coming to the ears of the preachers, were proclaimed in the public pulpit of edinburgh, with this complaint directed by the speaker to his god. "o lord, how long shall the wicked prevail against the just! how long shalt thou suffer thyself and thy blessed evangel to be despised of men; of men, we say, that make themselves defenders of the truth. of thy manifest and known enemies we complain not, but of such as unto whom thou hast revealed thy light: for now it comes to our ears that men, not papists, but chief protestants, will defend the mass to be no idolatry. if this were so, o lord, miserably have i been deceived, and miserably, alas, o lord, have i deceived thy people; and that thou knowest, o lord, i have ever abhorred more than a thousand deaths." turning his face towards the room where sat such men as had so affirmed, "if i be not able to prove the mass to be the most abominable idolatry that ever was used since the beginning of the world, i offer myself to suffer the punishment appointed by god to a false teacher; and it appears to me that the affirmers should be subject to the same law; for it is the truth of god that ye persecute and blaspheme; and it is the invention of the devil that, obstinately against his word, ye maintain. albeit ye now flyrt and flyre,[ ] as though all that were spoken were but wind, yet am i as assured, as i am that my god liveth, that some that hear your defection and railing against the truth and the servants of god, shall see a part of god's judgments poured forth upon this realm, and principally upon you that fastest cleave to the favour of the court, for the abominations that are maintained by you." such vehemence provoked the tears of some, yet those men that knew themselves guilty said, in a mocking manner, "we must recant, and burn our bill, for the preachers are angry." [ ] mock and deride. [sidenote: the general assembly: june .] the general assembly, held in june , approaching, to this the great part of those of the nobility that are called protestants, convened; some for assistance of the ministers, and some to accuse them.... on the first day of the general assembly, the courtiers and the lords that depended upon the court, did not present themselves in session with their brethren. many wondering thereat, an ancient and honourable man, the laird of lundie, said, "nay, i wonder not of their present absence; but i wonder that, at our last assembly, they drew themselves apart, and joined not with us, but drew from us some of our ministers, and willed them to conclude such things as were never proponed in the public assembly. that appears to me to be very prejudicial to the liberty of the kirk. my judgment is, therefore, that they be informed of this offence, which the whole brethren have conceived of their former fault; with humble request that, if they be brethren, they will assist their brethren with their presence and counsel, for we never had greater need. if they be minded to fall back from us, it were better we knew it now than afterwards." the whole assembly agreed to this, and gave commission to certain brethren to signify the minds of the assembly to the lords: that was done on the same afternoon. [sidenote: the protestant courtiers maintain an independent position.] at first, the courtiers seemed not a little offended that they should be suspected of defection: yet, upon the morrow, they joined with the assembly, and came into it. but they drew themselves apart, as they had done before, and entered the inner council house. there were the duke's grace, the earls argyll, moray, morton, glencairn, marischall, and rothes; the master of maxwell, secretary lethington, the justice clerk, the clerk register, and the comptroller, the laird of pittarrow. after a little consultation, they directed a messenger, mr. george hay, then called the minister of the court, requiring the superintendents, and some of the learned ministers, to confer with them. the assembly answered that they had convened to deliberate upon the common affairs of the kirk; and therefore, that they could not lack their superintendents and chief ministers, whose judgments were so necessary that, without them, the rest should sit as it were idle. they therefore, as before, willed them that, if they acknowledged themselves members of the kirk, they would join with the brethren, and propone in public such things as they pleased; and so they should have the assistance of the whole in all things that might conform to god's commandment. hurt and slander might arise, rather than any profit or comfort to the kirk, were they to send from themselves a portion of their company. for they feared that all men should not stand content with the conclusion, where the conference and reasons were only heard by a few. this answer was not given without cause; for no small travail was made to have drawn some ministers to the faction of the courtiers, and to have sustained their arguments and opinions. but when it was perceived by the most politic amongst them that they could not prevail by that means, they proponed the matter in other terms. purging themselves first that they never meant to divide themselves from the society of their brethren, they said that they had certain heads to confer with certain ministers; and that, to prevent confusion, they thought it more expedient to have the conference before a few, rather than in the public audience. the assembly did still reply, that they would not admit secret conference upon those heads that must be concluded by a general vote. the lords promised that no conclusion should be taken, or yet vote required, until their propositions and the reasons should both be heard and considered by the whole assembly. upon that condition, there were directed to them, with express charge to conclude nothing without the knowledge and advice of the assembly, the laird of dun, superintendent of angus, the superintendents of lothian and fife, mr. john row, mr. john craig, william christison, and mr. david lindsay, ministers, with the rector of st. andrews, and mr. george hay. the superintendent of glasgow, mr. john willock, was moderator, and john knox waited upon the scribe. and so they were appointed to sit with the brethren. because the principal complaint touched john knox, he was also called for. [sidenote: secretary lethington defines the attitude of the lords of the court.] secretary lethington began the harangue, which contained these heads: first, how much we were indebted unto god, by whose providence we had liberty of religion under the queen's majesty, albeit she was not persuaded in it herself: secondly, how necessary a thing it was that the queen's majesty, by all good offices, so spake he, of the kirk, and of the ministers principally, should be retained in the constant opinion that they unfeignedly favoured her advancement, and procured her subjects to have a good opinion of her: and, lastly, how dangerous a thing it was that ministers should be noted to disagree one from another, in form of prayer for her majesty, or in doctrine concerning obedience to her majesty's authority. "and in these two last heads," said he, "we desire you all to be circumspect; but especially we must crave of you, our brother, john knox, to moderate yourself, as well in form of praying for the queens majesty, as in doctrine that ye propone touching her estate and obedience. neither shall ye take this," said he, "as spoken to your reproach, _quia nevus interdum in corpore pulchro_, but because others by your example may imitate the like liberty, albeit not with the same modesty and foresight; and wise men do foresee the opinion that may engender in the people's heads." [sidenote: the disputation between john knox and the secretary.] _john knox._ if such as fear god have occasion to praise him because idolatry is maintained, the servants of god are despised, wicked men are placed again in honour and authority, and, finally, because vice and impiety overflow this whole realm without punishment, then have we occasion to rejoice and to praise god. but if those and the like actions are wont to provoke god's vengeance against realms and nations, then, in my judgment, the godly within scotland ought to lament and mourn; and so to prevent[ ] god's judgments, lest he, finding all in a like security, strike in his hot indignation, perchance beginning at such as think they offend not. [ ] anticipate. _lethington._ that is a head wherein ye and i never agreed; for how are ye able to prove that ever god struck or plagued a nation or people for the iniquity of their prince, if they themselves lived godly? _knox._ i looked, my lord, to have audience, until i had absolved the other two parts; but seeing that it pleases your lordship to cut me off before the midst, i will answer your question. the scripture of god teaches me that jerusalem and judah were punished for the sin of manasseh; and if ye will allege that they were punished because they were wicked, and offended with their king, and not because their king was wicked, i answer that, albeit the spirit of god makes for me, saying in express words, "for the sin of manasseh," yet will i not be so obstinate as to lay the whole sin, and the plagues that followed, upon the king, and utterly absolve the people. i will grant you that the whole people offended with the king: but how, and in what fashion, i fear that ye and i shall not agree. i doubt not but that the great multitude accompanied him in all the abominations which he did; for idolatry and a false religion have ever been, are, and will be pleasing to the most part of men. to affirm that all judah committed really the acts of his impiety, is but to affirm that which neither has certainty, nor yet appearance of truth. who can think it possible that all those of jerusalem should so shortly turn to external idolatry, considering the notable reformation in the days of hezekiah, a short time before? but yet, the text says, "manasseh made judah and the inhabitants of jerusalem to err." true it is; for the one part willingly followed him in his idolatry, and the other, by reason of his authority, suffered him to defile jerusalem, and the temple of god, with all abominations. so were they all criminal for his sin; the one by act and deed, the other by suffering and permission. even so, all scotland is guilty this day of the queen's idolatry, and ye, my lords, especially, above all others. _lethington._ well, that is the chief head wherein we never agreed; but of that we shall speak hereafter. what will ye say as touching the moving of the people to have a good opinion of the queen's majesty, and as concerning obedience to be given to her authority, as also of the form of the prayer which commonly ye use, and so on? _knox._ my lord, a good conscience will not suffer me to move the people more earnestly, or to pray otherwise than heretofore i have done. he who knows the secrets of hearts knows that, privately and publicly, i have called to god for the queen's conversion, and have willed the people to do the same, showing them the dangerous estate wherein not only she herself stands, but also the whole realm, by the reason of her indurate blindness. _lethington._ that is exactly wherein we find greatest fault. your extremity against the queen's mass, in particular, passes measure. ye call her a slave to satan; ye affirm that god's vengeance hangs over the realm by reason of her impiety; and what is this else but to rouse up the heart of the people against her majesty, and against them that serve her? there was heard an exclamation from the rest of the flatterers that such extremity could not profit. the master of maxwell said in plain words, "if i were in the queen's majesty's place, i would not suffer such things as i hear." _knox._ if the words of preachers shall always be wrested to the worst construction, then will it be hard to speak of anything so circumspectly (provided that the truth be spoken) that it shall not escape the censure of the calumniator. the most vehement, and, as ye put it, excessive manner of prayer that i use in public is this, "o lord, if it be thy pleasure, purge the heart of the queen's majesty from the venom of idolatry, and deliver her from the bondage and thraldom of satan in which she has been brought up, and yet remains, for the lack of true doctrine; and let her see, by the illumination of thy holy spirit, that there is no means to please thee but by jesus christ, thy only son, and that jesus christ cannot be found but in thy holy word, nor yet received but as it prescribes; which is, to renounce our own wisdom and preconceived opinion, and worship thee as thou commandest; that in so doing she may avoid that eternal damnation which abides all who are obstinate and impenitent unto the end; and that this poor realm may also escape that plague and vengeance which inevitably follow idolatry, maintained against thy manifest word and the open light thereof." this, said he, is the form of my common prayer, as yourselves can witness. now, i would hear what is worthy of reprehension in it. _lethington._ there are three things that i never liked. the first is that ye pray for the queen's majesty with a condition, saying, "illuminate her heart, if it be thy good pleasure." it may appear from these words that ye doubt of her conversion. where have ye the example of such prayer? _knox._ wheresoever the examples are, i am assured of the rule, which is this, if we shall ask anything according to his will, he shall hear us; and our master, christ jesus, commanded us to pray unto our father, "thy will be done." _lethington._ but where do ye ever find one of the prophets so to have prayed? _knox._ it sufficeth me, my lord, that the master and teacher of both prophets and apostles has taught me so to pray. _lethington._ but, in so doing, ye put a doubt in the people's head concerning her conversion. _knox._ not i, my lord. her own obstinate rebellion causes more than me to doubt of her conversion. _lethington._ wherein rebels she against god? _knox._ in all the actions of her life, but in these two heads especially; firstly, she will not hear the preaching of the blessed evangel of jesus christ; and, secondly, she maintains that idol, the mass. _lethington._ she does not think that rebellion, but good religion. _knox._ so thought they that at one time offered their children to moloch; and yet the spirit of god affirms that they offered them unto devils, and not unto god. this day the turks think they have a better religion than that of the papists. i think ye will excuse neither of them from committing rebellion against god: nor can ye justly excuse the queen, unless ye make god to be partial. _lethington._ but yet, why pray ye not for her, without moving any doubt? _knox._ because i have learned to pray in faith. now faith, ye know, depends upon the words of god, and the word teaches me that prayers profit the sons and daughters of god's election. whether she be one of these or not, i have just cause to doubt; and, therefore, i pray god "illuminate her heart," if it be his good pleasure. _lethington._ but yet ye can produce the example of none that so has prayed before you. _knox._ i have already answered that; but yet, for further declaration, i will demand a question. do ye think that the apostles prayed themselves as they commanded others to pray? "who doubts of that?" said the whole company that were present. _knox._ well then, i am assured that peter said these words to simon magus, "repent therefore of this thy wickedness, and pray to god, that, if it be possible, the thought of your heart may be forgiven thee." here we may plainly see that peter joins a condition with his commandment that simon should repent and pray, to wit, if it were possible that his sin might be forgiven; for he was not ignorant that some sins were unto the death, and so without all hope of repentance or remission. think ye not, my lord secretary, there may touch my heart, concerning the queen's conversion, the same doubt that then touched the heart of the apostle? _lethington._ i would never hear you or any other call that in doubt. _knox._ but your will is no assurance to my conscience. and, to speak freely, my lord, i wonder if ye yourself doubt not of the queen's conversion; for more evident signs of induration[ ] have appeared, and still do appear in her, than outwardly peter could have espied in simon magus. albeit at one time he had been a sorcerer, he joined with the apostles, believed, and was baptized; and albeit the venom of avarice remained in his heart, and he would have bought the holy ghost, yet, when he heard the fearful threatenings of god pronounced against him, he trembled, desired the assistance of the prayers of the apostles, and humbled himself like a true penitent, so far as the judgment of man could pierce, and yet we see that peter doubted of his conversion. why then may not all the godly justly doubt of the conversion of the queen, who has practised idolatry (which is no less odious in the sight of god than is the other) and still continues in the same, yea, who despises all threatenings, and refuses all godly admonitions? [ ] hardening. _lethington._ why say ye that she refuses admonition? she will gladly hear any man. _knox._ but what obedience, to god or to his word, ensues of all that is spoken to her? or when shall she be seen to give her presence to the public preaching? _lethington._ i think never, so long as she is thus treated. _knox._ and so long ye and all others must be content that i pray, so that i may be assured of being heard by my god, that his good will may be done, either in making her comfortable to his kirk, or, if he has appointed her to be a scourge to it, that we may have patience, and she may be bridled. _lethington._ well let us come to the second head. where find ye that the scripture calls any the bond slaves to satan? or that the prophets of god speak so irreverently of kings and princes? _knox._ the scripture says, that "by nature we are all the sons of wrath." our master, christ jesus, affirms, that "such as do sin are servants to sin," and that it is the only son of god that sets men at freedom. now, what difference there is betwixt the sons of wrath, and the servants of sin, and the slaves to the devil, i understand not, except i be taught. if the sharpness of the term offend you, i have not invented that phrase of speech, but have learned it out of god's scripture; for those words i find spoken unto paul, "behold, i send thee to the gentiles, to open their eyes, that they may turn from darkness to light, and from the power of satan unto god." mark these words, my lord, and sturr not at the speaking of the holy ghost. the same apostle, writing to his scholar timothy, says, "instruct with meekness those that are contrary minded, if god at any time will give them repentance, that they may know the truth, and that they may come to amendment, out of the snare of the devil, which are taken of him at his will." if your lordship rightly considers these sentences, ye shall not only find my words to be the words of the holy ghost, but also that the condition which i use to add, has the assurance of god's scriptures. _lethington._ but they spake nothing against kings in especial, and yet your continual crying is, "the queen's idolatry, the queen's mass, will provoke god's vengeance!" _knox._ in the former sentences i hear not kings and queens excepted, but all unfaithful are pronounced to stand in one rank, and to be in bondage to one tyrant, the devil. but belike, my lord, ye little regard the estate wherein they stand, when ye would have them so flattered, that the danger thereof should neither be known nor declared to the poor people. _lethington._ where will ye find that any of the prophets did so entreat kings and queens, rulers or magistrates? _knox._ in more places than one. ahab was a king, and jezebel was a queen, and yet of what the prophet elijah said to the one and to the other, i suppose ye are not ignorant? _lethington._ that was not cried out before the people to make them odious to their subjects. _knox._ that elijah said, "dogs shall lick the blood of ahab, and eat the flesh of jezebel," the scriptures assure me; but i read not that it was whispered in their own ear, or in a corner. the plain contrary appears to me. that is, both the people and the court understood well enough what the prophet had promised; for so witnessed jehu, after god's vengeance had stricken jezebel. _lethington._ they were singular motions of the spirit of god, and appertain nothing to this our age. _knox._ then the scripture has far deceived me, for st. paul teaches me that, "whatsoever is written within the holy scriptures, is written for our instruction." and my master said that "every learned and wise scribe brings forth his treasure, both things old and things new." and the prophet jeremiah affirms that "every realm and every city that likewise offends, as then did jerusalem, should likewise be punished." why then, i neither see nor yet can understand that the acts of the ancient prophets, and the fearful judgments of god executed before us upon the disobedient, appertain not unto this our age. but now, to put an end to this head, my lord, the prophets of god have not spared to rebuke wicked kings, as well to their face as before the people and subjects. elisha feared not to say to king jehoram, "what have i to do with thee? get thee to the prophets of thy father, and to the prophets of thy mother; for as the lord of hosts lives, in whose sight i stand, if it were not that i regard the presence of jehoshaphat, the king of judah, i would not have looked toward thee nor seen thee." it is plain that the prophet was a subject in the kingdom of israel, and yet how little reverence he gives to the king. jeremiah the prophet was commanded to cry to the king and to the queen, and to say, "behave yourselves lawfully; execute justice and judgment; or else your carcases shall be cast to the heat of the day, and unto the frost of the night." unto coniah, shallum, and zedekiah, he speaks in special, and shows to them, in his public sermons, their miserable ends; and therefore ye ought not to think it strange, my lord, that the servants of god mark the vice of kings and queens, as well as of other offenders, and that because their sins are more noisome to the commonwealth than are the sins of inferior persons. for the most part of this reasoning, secretary lethington leaned upon the master of maxwell's breast, who said, "i am almost weary: i would that some other would reason in the chief head, which is not touched." the earl of morton, chancellor, commanded mr. george hay to reason against john knox, in the head of obedience due unto magistrates; and he began so to do. _knox._ brother, i am well content that ye reason with me, because i know you to be both a man of learning and of modesty: but that ye shall oppose yourself to a truth of which, i suppose, your own conscience is no less persuaded than is mine, i cannot well approve. i would be sorry that you and i should be reputed to reason as two scholars of pythagoras, to show the quickness of our imagination. i protest here, before god, that, whatsoever i sustain, i do the same of conscience; yea, i dare no more sustain a proposition known unto myself untrue, than dare i teach false doctrine in the public place. therefore, brother, if conscience move you to oppose yourself to that doctrine which ye have heard from my mouth in that matter, do it boldly: it shall never offend me. but it pleases me not that ye be found to oppose yourself to me, if ye are persuaded in the same truth. in that there may be greater inconvenience than either ye or i do consider for the present. _hay._ far be it from me to prove myself willing to impugn or confute that head of doctrine, which not only ye, but many others, yea, and i myself have affirmed; for so should i be found contrarious to myself. my lord secretary knows my judgment in that head. _lethington._ marry; ye are well the worse of the two. i remember well your reasoning when the queen was in carrick. _knox._ well, seeing, brother, that god has made you occupy the chair of truth, in which, i am sure, we will agree in all principal heads of doctrine, let it never be said that we disagree in disputation. john knox was moved thus to speak, because he understood more of the craft than the other did. _lethington._ well, i am persuaded in this last head somewhat better than i was in the other two. mr. knox, yesterday we heard your judgment upon the th to the romans; we heard the mind of the apostle well opened; we heard the causes why god has established powers upon the earth; we heard the necessity that mankind has of the same; and we heard the duty of magistrates sufficiently declared; but in two things i was offended, and so i think were some more of my lords that were then present. the one was that ye made difference betwixt the ordinance of god and the persons that were placed in authority; and ye affirmed that men might refuse the persons, and yet not offend against god's ordinance. this is the one; the other ye had no time to explain; but methought ye meant this,--that subjects were not bound to obey their princes if they commanded unlawful things; but that they might resist their princes, and were never bound to suffer. _knox._ in very deed ye have rightly both marked my words, and understood my mind; for i have long been of that same judgment, and so i yet remain. _lethington._ how will ye prove your division and difference, and that the person placed in authority may be resisted, and god's ordinance not transgressed, seeing that the apostle says, "he that resists the powers, resisteth the ordinance of god." _knox._ my lord, the plain words of the apostle make the difference, and the acts of many approved by god prove my affirmative. first, the apostle affirms that the powers are ordained of god for the preservation of quiet and peaceable men, and for the punishment of malefactors. from this it is plain that the ordinance of god and the power given unto men is one thing, and the person clad with the power or with the authority is another. god's ordinance is the conservation of mankind, the punishment of vice, and the maintaining of virtue, which is in itself holy, just, constant, stable, and perpetual. but men clad with the authority are commonly profane and unjust; yea, they are mutable and transitory, and subject to corruption. god threateneth them by his prophet david, saying, "i have said ye are gods, and every one of you the sons of the most highest; but ye shall die as men, and the princes shall fall like others." here i am assured that persons, the soul and body of wicked princes, are threatened with death: i think that ye will not affirm that so also are the authority, the ordinance and the power, wherewith god has endued such persons; for, as i have said, as it is holy, so is it the permanent will of god. now, my lord, it is evident that the prince may be resisted, and yet the ordinance of god not violated. the people resisted saul, when he had sworn by the living god that jonathan should die. the people, i say, swore to the contrary, and delivered jonathan, so that not a hair of his head fell. now, saul was the anointed king, and they were his subjects, and yet they so resisted him that they made him no better than mansworn.[ ] [ ] perjured. _lethington._ i doubt if in so doing the people did well. _knox._ the spirit of god accuses them not of any crime, but rather praises them, and condemns the king, as well for his foolish vow and law made without god, as for his cruel mind, that would have punished an innocent man so severely. i shall not stand entirely upon this: what follows shall confirm it. this same saul commanded abimelech and the priests of the lord to be slain, because they had committed treason, as he alleged, for intercommuning with david. his guard and principal servants would not obey his unjust commandment; but doeg, the flatterer, put the king's cruelty to execution. i will not ask your judgment whether the servants of the king, in not obeying his commandment, resisted god or not; or whether doeg, in murdering the priests, gave obedience to a just authority. i have the spirit of god, speaking by the mouth of david, to assure me of the one as well as of the other; for he, in his fifty-second psalm, condemns that act as a most cruel murder; and affirms that god will punish not only the commander but the merciless executor. i conclude that they who gainstood his commandment resisted not the ordinance of god. and now, my lord, to answer to the statement of the apostle, where he affirms that such as resist the power resist the ordinance of god, i say that the power in that place is not to be understood to be the unjust commandment of men, but the just power wherewith god has armed his magistrates and lieutenants to punish sin and maintain virtue. if any man enterprise to take from the hands of a lawful judge a murderer, an adulterer, or any other malefactor that by god's law deserves death, this same man resists god's ordinance, and procures to himself vengeance and condemnation, because he has stayed god's sword from striking. but this is not the case if men, in the fear of god, oppose themselves to the fury and blind rage of princes; in doing so, they do not resist god, but the devil, who abuses the sword and authority of god. _lethington._ i sufficiently understand what ye mean; and to the one part i will not oppose myself. but i doubt of the other. if the queen commanded me to slay john knox, because she is offended at him, i would not obey her. but, were she to command others to do it, or by a colour of justice to take his life from him, i cannot tell if i should be found to defend him against the queen and against her officers. _knox._ under protestation that the audience think not that i seek favours for myself, my lord, i say that, if ye be persuaded of my innocency, and if god has given you such power and credit as might deliver me, and yet you suffered me to perish, in so doing you should be criminal, and guilty of my blood. _lethington._ prove that, and win the play. _knox._ well, my lord, remember your promise, and i shall be short in my probation. the prophet jeremiah was apprehended by the priests and prophets, who were a part of the authority within jerusalem, and by the multitude of the people, and this sentence was pronounced against him, "thou shalt die the death; for thou hast said, this house shall be like shiloh, and this city shall be desolate without inhabitant." the princes, hearing the uproar, came from the king's house, and sat down in judgment in the entry of the new gate of the lord's house, and there the priests and the prophets, before the princes, and before all the people, stated their accusation in these words, "this man is worthy to die, for he has prophesied against this city, as your ears have heard." jeremiah answered that whatsoever he had spoken proceeded from god; and therefore said he, "as for me, i am in your hands: do with me as ye think good and right. but know ye for certain that, if ye put me to death, ye shall surely bring innocent blood upon your souls, and upon this city, and upon the habitations thereof; for of truth the lord has sent me to you, to speak all these words." now, my lord, if the prophets and the whole people should have been guilty of the prophet's blood, how shall ye or others be judged innocent before god, if ye suffer the blood of such as have not deserved death to be shed when ye may save it? _lethington._ the cases are nothing like. _knox._ i would like to learn wherein the dissimilitude stands. _lethington._ first, the king had not condemned him to death. and next, the false prophets and the priests and the people accused him without a cause, and therefore they could not but be guilty of his blood. _knox._ neither of these fights against my argument; for, albeit the king was neither present, nor yet had condemned him, the princes and chief councillors were there sitting in judgment. they represented the king's person and authority, hearing the accusation laid to the charge of the prophet. therefore he forewarns them of the danger, as i have already said, that, if he should be condemned and put to death, the king, the council, and the whole city of jerusalem should be guilty of his blood, because he had committed no crime worthy of death. if ye think that they should all have been criminal, only because they all accused him, the plain text witnesses the contrary. the princes defended him, and so no doubt did a great part of the people; and yet he boldly affirms that they should be all guilty of his blood if he should be put to death. the prophet ezekiel gives the reason why all are guilty of a common corruption. he says, "i sought a man amongst them that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land, that i should not destroy it, but i found none; therefore have i poured my indignation upon them." from this, my lord, it is plain that god craves not only that a man do no iniquity in his own person, but also that he oppose himself to all iniquity, so far as in him lies. _lethington._ then ye will make subjects control their princes and rulers. _knox._ and what harm should the commonwealth receive, if the corrupt affections of ignorant rulers were moderated, and so bridled by the wisdom and discretion of godly subjects that they should do wrong nor violence to no man? _lethington._ all this reasoning is not to the purpose; for we reason as if the queen should become such an enemy to our religion, that she should persecute it, and put innocent men to death. this, i am assured, she never intended, and never will do. if i should see her again of that purpose, yea, if i should suspect any such thing in her, i should be as far forward in that argument as ye or any other within this realm. but there is not such a thing. our question is, whether we may and ought to suppress the queen's mass? or whether her idolatry shall be laid to our charge? _knox._ what ye may do by force, i dispute not; but what ye may and ought to do by god's express commandment, that i can tell. idolatry ought not only to be suppressed, but the idolater ought to die the death, unless we will accuse god. _lethington._ i know that the idolater is commanded to die the death; but by whom? _knox._ by the people of god. the commandment was given to israel, as ye may read, "hear, israel, says the lord, the statutes and the ordinances of the lord thy god," etc. yea, a commandment was given, that, if it be heard that idolatry is committed in any one city, inquisition shall be taken; and, if it be found true, the whole body of the people shall then arise and destroy that city, sparing in it neither man, woman, nor child. _lethington._ but there is no commandment given to the people to punish their king if he be an idolater. _knox._ i find no privilege to offend god's majesty granted to kings, by god, more than to the people. _lethington._ i grant that; but yet the people may not be judges to their king to punish him, albeit he be an idolater. _knox._ god is the universal judge, as well of the king as of the people. what his word commands to be punished in the one, is not to be absolved in the other. _lethington._ we agree in that; but the people may not execute god's judgment. they must leave it to himself. he will either punish it by death, by war, by imprisonment, or by some other plagues. _knox._ i know the last part of your reason to be true; but for the first, that the people, yea, or a part of the people, may not execute god's judgments against their king, he being an offender, i am assured ye have no other warrant except your own imagination, and the opinion of such as have more fear to offend princes than god. _lethington._ why say ye so? i have the judgments of the most famous men within europe, and of such as ye yourself will confess both godly and learned. and with that he called for his papers. when these were produced by mr. robert maitland, he began to read with great gravity the judgments of luther, and melanchthon, and the minds of bucer, musculus, and calvin, as to how christians should behave themselves in time of persecution: yea, the book of baruch was not omitted. _lethington._ the gathering of these things has cost more travail than i have taken these seven years in the reading of commentaries. _knox._ the more pity; and yet, let others judge what ye have profited your own cause. as for my argument, i am assured ye have weakened it in nothing; for your first two witnesses speak against the anabaptists, who deny that christians should be subject to magistrates, or that it is lawful for a christian to be a magistrate. that opinion i no less abhor than ye do, or than does any other that lives. the others speak of christians subject to tyrants and infidels, so dispersed that they have no other force but only to sob to god for deliverance. that such, indeed, should hazard any further than these godly men direct them, i cannot hastily counsel. but my argument has another ground; for i speak of the people assembled together in one body of one commonwealth, to whom god has given sufficient force, not only to resist, but also to suppress all kind of open idolatry. such a people, i affirm yet again, are bound to keep their land clean and unpolluted. that this my division shall not appear strange to you, ye should understand that god required one thing of abraham and of his seed, when he and they were strangers and pilgrims in egypt and canaan; and another thing when they were delivered from the bondage of egypt, and the possession of the land of canaan was granted to them. at the first, and during all the time of their bondage, god craved no more than that abraham should not defile himself with idolatry. neither was he nor his posterity commanded to destroy the idols that were in canaan or in egypt. but when god gave them the possession of the land, he gave them this strait commandment, "beware lest ye make league or confederacy with the inhabitants of this land: give not thy sons unto their daughters, nor yet give thy daughters unto their sons. but this shall ye do unto them, cut down their groves, destroy their images, break down their altars, and leave thou no kind of remembrance of those abominations, which the inhabitants of the land used before: for thou art a people holy unto the lord thy god. defile not thyself, therewith, with their gods." ye, my lords, and all such as have professed the lord jesus within this realm, are bound to this same commandment. god has wrought no less miracle upon you, both spiritual and corporal, than he did upon the carnal seed of abraham. for you yourselves cannot be ignorant in what estate your bodies and this poor realm were, not seven years ago. you and it were both in bondage to a strange nation; and what tyrants reigned over your conscience, god perchance may let you feel, because ye do not rightly acknowledge the benefit received. when our poor brethren before us gave their bodies to the flames of fire for the testimony of the truth, and when scarcely ten that rightly knew god could be found in a country-side, it would have been foolishness to have craved the suppressing of idolatry, either by the nobility, or by the humble subjects. that would have done nothing but expose the simple sheep as a prey to the wolves. but since god has multiplied knowledge, and has given the victory to his truth, even in the hands of his servants, if ye suffer the land again to be defiled, ye and your princess shall both drink the cup of god's indignation--she for her obstinate abiding in manifest idolatry in the great light of the evangel of jesus christ, and ye for your permitting and maintaining her in it. _lethington._ in that point we will never agree; and where find ye, i pray you, that any of the prophets or of the apostles ever taught such a doctrine as that the people should be plagued for the idolatry of the prince; or that the subjects might suppress the idolatry of their rulers, or punish them for the same? _knox._ my lord, we know what was the commission given to the apostles. it was to preach and plant the evangel of jesus christ where darkness had dominion before; and therefore it behoved them, first, to let them see the light before they should urge them to put to their hands to suppress idolatry. i will not affirm what precepts the apostles gave to the faithful in particular, other than that they commanded all to flee from idolatry. but i find two things which the faithful did; the one was, they assisted their preachers, even against the rulers and magistrates; the other was, they suppressed idolatry wherever god gave them force, asking no leave of the emperor, or of his deputies. read the ecclesiastical history, and ye shall find sufficient example. as to the doctrine of the prophets, we know they were interpreters of the law of god; and we know they spake to the kings as well as to the people. i read that neither would hear them; and therefore came the plague of god upon both. but i cannot be persuaded that they flattered kings more than the people. as i have said, god's laws pronounce sentence of death upon idolatry, without exception of any person. idolatry is never alone; ever does it corrupt religion, and bring with it a filthy and corrupt life. how the prophets could rightly interpret the law, and show the causes of god's judgments, which they ever threatened should follow idolatry, and the rest of abominations that accompany it--how they could reprove the vices, and not show the people their duty, i understand not. therefore, i constantly believe that the doctrine of the prophets was so sensible that the kings understood their own abominations, and the people understood what they ought to have done in punishing and repressing them. but because the most part of the people were no less rebellious to god than were their princes, the one and the other convened against god and against his servants. and yet, my lord, the acts of some prophets are so evident, that we may collect from them what doctrine they taught; for it were no small absurdity to affirm that their acts should repugn to their doctrine. _lethington._ i think ye refer to the history of jehu. what will ye prove thereby? _knox._ the chief head that ye deny and i affirm--that the prophets never taught that it appertained to the people to punish the idolatry of their kings. for the probation, i am ready to produce the act of a prophet. ye know, my lord, that elisha sent one of the children of the prophets to anoint jehu, who gave him commandment to destroy the house of his master ahab for the idolatry committed by him, and for the innocent blood that jezebel his wicked wife had shed. he obeyed, and put this into full execution; and for this god promised him the stability of the kingdom, to the fourth generation. here is the act of one prophet that proves that subjects were commanded to execute judgments upon their king and prince. _lethington._ there is enough to be answered thereto. jehu was a king before he put anything in execution; and besides, the act is extraordinary, and not to be imitated. _knox._ my lord, he was a mere subject and no king, when the prophet's servant came to him; yea, and albeit his fellow-captains, hearing of the message, blew the trumpet, and said, "jehu is king;" i doubt not that jezebel both thought and said he was a traitor. so did many others that were in israel and in samaria. and as touching what ye allege--that the act was extraordinary, and is not to be imitated--i say that it had ground upon god's ordinary judgment, which commands the idolater to die the death. therefore, i yet again affirm that it is to be imitated by all those that prefer the true honour, the true worship, and the glory of god to the affections of flesh, and of wicked princes. _lethington._ we are not bound to imitate extraordinary examples, unless we have the like commandment and assurance. _knox._ i grant that, if the example repugn to the law, and if an avaricious and deceitful man desired to borrow gold, silver, raiment, or any other necessaries from his neighbour, and withhold the same, he might allege that he might do so and not offend god, because the israelites did so to the egyptians, at their departure from egypt. the example would serve no purpose unless the like cause, and the like commandment to that which the israelites had, could be produced; because, their act repugned to this commandment of god, "thou shalt not steal." but where the example agrees with the law, and is, as it were, the execution of god's judgments expressed in it, i say that the example approved by god stands to us in place of a commandment. god of his nature is constant, and immutable; he cannot condemn in the subsequent ages that which he has approved in his servants before us. in his servants before us, by his own commandment, he has approved when subjects have not only destroyed their kings for idolatry, but also rooted out their whole posterity, so that none of that race were afterwards left to empire over the people of god. _lethington._ whatsoever they did was done at god's commandment. _knox._ that fortifies my argument. you admit that subjects punish their princes by god's commandment for idolatry and wickedness committed by them. _lethington._ we have not the like commandment. _knox._ that i deny. the commandment, "the idolater shall die the death," is perpetual, as ye yourself have granted. you doubted only who should be executors against the king; and i said the people of god. i have sufficiently proven, i think, that god has raised up the people, and by his prophet has anointed a king to take vengeance upon the king and upon his posterity. since that time, god has never retreated[ ] that act; and, therefore, to me it remains for a constant and clean commandment to all people professing god, and having the power to punish vice, as to what they ought to do in the like case. if the people had enterprised anything without god's commandment, we might have doubted whether they had done well or evil. but, seeing that god did bring the execution of his law again into practice, after it had fallen into oblivion and contempt, what reasonable man can now doubt of god's will, unless we are to doubt of all things which god does not renew to us by miracles, as it were, from age to age. i am assured that the answer of abraham to the rich man who, being in hell, desired that lazarus or some of the dead should be sent to his brethren and friends, to inform them of his incredible pain and torments, and to warn them so to behave themselves that they should not come to that place of torment--that answer shall confound such as crave further approbation of god's will than is already expressed within his holy scriptures. abraham said, "they have moses and the prophets; if they will not believe them, neither will they believe albeit one of the dead should rise." even so, my lord, i say that such as will not be taught what they ought to do, by commandment of god once given and once put in practice, will not believe or obey, albeit god should send angels from heaven to instruct that doctrine. [ ] repudiated; withdrawn. _lethington._ ye have but produced one example. _knox._ one sufficeth. but, god be praised, we do not lack others. the whole people conspired against amaziah, king of judah, after he had turned away from the lord, followed him to lachish and slew him, and took uzziah and anointed him king instead of his father. the people had not altogether forgotten the league and covenant made betwixt their king and them, at the inauguration of joash, his father, that the king and the people should be the people of the lord, and then should they be his faithful subjects. when first the father, and afterwards the son, declined from that covenant, they were both punished to the death, joash by his own servants, and amaziah by the whole people. _lethington._ i doubt whether they did well or not. _knox._ it shall be free for you to doubt as ye please; but where i find execution according to god's laws, and god himself does not accuse the doers, i dare not doubt of the equity of the cause. further, it appears to me that god gave sufficient approbation and allowance to their act; for he blessed them with victory, peace, and prosperity, for the space of fifty-two years thereafter. _lethington._ but prosperity does not always prove that god approves the acts of men. _knox._ yes; when the acts of men agree with the law of god, and are rewarded according to god's own promise, expressed in his law, i say that the prosperity succeeding the act is most infallible assurance that god has approved that act. god has promised in his law that, when his people shall exterminate and destroy such as decline from him, he will bless them, and multiply them, as he has promised to their fathers. amaziah turned from god; for so the text doth witness; and it is plain that the people slew their king; and it is as plain that god blessed them. therefore, yet again i conclude that god approved their act, and it, in so far as it was done according to his commandment, was blessed according to his promise. _lethington._ well, i think the ground is not so sure that i durst build my conscience thereupon. _knox._ i pray god that your conscience have no worse ground than this, whenever ye shall begin work like that which god, before your own eyes, has already blessed. and now, my lord, i have but one example to produce, and then i will put an end to my reasoning, because i weary of standing. (commandment was given that he should sit down; but he refused it, and said, "melancholious reasons would have some mirth intermixed.") my last example, my lord, is this, uzziah the king, not content of his royal estate, malapertly took upon him to enter within the temple of the lord, to burn incense upon the altar of incense; and azariah the priest went in after him, and with him fourscore priests of the lord, valiant men. these withstood uzziah the king, and said to him, "it pertaineth thee not, uzziah, to burn incense unto the lord, but to the priests, the sons of aaron, that are consecrated to offer incense. go forth of the sanctuary, for thou hast transgressed, and you shall have no honour of the lord god." from this, my lord, i conclude that subjects not only may, but ought to withstand and resist their princes, whenever they do anything that expressly repugns to god's law or holy ordinance. _lethington._ they that withstood the king were not simple subjects. they were the priests of the lord, and figures of christ. we have none such priests this day, to withstand kings if they do wrong. _knox._ i grant that the high priest was the figure of christ, but i deny that he was not a subject. i am assured that he, in his priesthood, had no prerogative above those that had gone before him. now, aaron was subject unto moses, and called him his lord. samuel, being both prophet and priest, subjected himself to saul, after he was inaugurated by the people. zadok bowed before david; and abiathar was deposed from the priesthood by solomon. these all confessed themselves subjects to the kings, albeit therewith they ceased not to be figures of christ. ye say that we have no such priests this day, but i might answer that neither have we such kings this day as then were anointed at god's commandment, and sat upon the seat of david, and were no less the figure of christ jesus in their just administration, than were the priests in their appointed office. such kings, i am assured, we have not now, more than have we such priests. christ jesus, being anointed in our nature by god, his father, as king, priest, and prophet, has put an end to all external unction. and yet, i think, ye will not say that god has now diminished his graces for those whom he appoints ambassadors betwixt him and his people, more than he does from kings and princes. therefore, i see not why the servants of jesus christ may not also justly withstand kings and princes that this day no less offend god's majesty than uzziah did, unless ye will say that we, in the brightness of the evangel, are not straitly bound to regard god's glory or his commandments, as were the fathers that lived under the dark shadows of the law. _lethington._ well, i will dip no further into that head. but how resisted the priests the king? they only spake to him, without further violence intended. _knox._ that they withstood him, the text assures me; but that they did nothing but speak, i cannot understand. the plain text affirms the contrary. they caused him hastily to depart from the sanctuary, yea, he was compelled to depart. this manner of speaking, i am assured, imports in the hebrew tongue another thing than exhorting, or commanding by word. _lethington._ they did that after he was espied to be leprous. _knox._ they withstood him before; but their last act confirms my proposition so evidently, that such as will oppose themselves to it must needs oppose themselves to god. my assertion is, that kings have no privilege to offend god's majesty more than had the people; and that, if they do so, they are no more exempted from the punishment of the law than is any subject; yea, and that subjects may not only lawfully oppose themselves to their kings, whenever they do anything that expressly repugns to god's commandment, but also that they may execute judgment upon them according to god's law. if the king be a murderer, adulterer, or idolater, he should suffer according to god's law, not as a king, but as an offender, and this history clearly proves that the people may put god's laws into execution. as soon as the leprosy appeared in his forehead, he was not only compelled to depart out of the sanctuary, but he was also removed from all public society and administration of the kingdom, and was compelled to dwell in a house apart, even as the law commanded. he got no greater privilege in that case than any other of the people should have done; and this was executed by the people; for there is no doubt that more than the priests alone were witnesses of his leprosy. we do not find that any oppose themselves to the sentence of god pronounced in his law against the leprous; and therefore, yet again say i that the people ought to execute god's law even against their princes, when their open crimes deserve death by god's law, but especially when they are such as may infect the rest of the multitude. and now, my lords, i will reason no longer, for i have spoken more than i intended. _lethington._ and yet i cannot tell what can be concluded. _knox._ albeit ye cannot, i am assured of what i have proven, to wit:-- . that subjects have delivered an innocent from the hands of their king, and therein offended not god. . that subjects have refused to strike innocents when a king commanded, and in doing so denied no just obedience. . that such as struck at the commandment of the king before god were reputed murderers. . that god has not only of one subject made a king, but also has armed subjects against their natural kings, and commanded them to take vengeance upon them according to his law. . that god's people have executed god's law against their king, having no further regard to him in that behalf, than if he had been the most simple subject within this realm. therefore, albeit ye will not understand what should be concluded, i am assured not only that god's people may, but also that they are bound to do the same where the like crimes are committed, and when he gives unto them the like power. _lethington._ well, i think ye shall not have many learned men of your opinion. _knox._ my lord, the truth ceases not to be the truth, howsoever men either misknow it, or yet gainstand it. and yet, i praise my god that i lack not the consent of god's servants in that head. with that, john knox presented to the secretary the apology of magdeburg; and willed him to read the names of the ministers who had subscribed the defence of the town to be a most just one; adding, that to resist a tyrant is not to resist god, or yet his ordinance. when the secretary had read this, he scripped and said, "_homines obscuri_."[ ] the other answered, "_dei tamen servi_."[ ] [ ] "men of no note." [ ] "servants of god, however." so lethington arose and said, "my lords, ye have heard the reasons upon both sides: it becomes you now to decide, and to give an order unto preachers, that they may be uniform in doctrine. may we, think ye, take the queen's mass from her?" while some began to give their votes, for some were appointed, as it were, leaders to the rest, john knox said, "my lords, i suppose that ye will not do contrary to your lordships' promise, made to the whole assembly. this was that nothing should be voted in secret, until all matters should first be debated in public, and that then the votes of the whole assembly should put an end to the controversy. now have i only sustained the argument, and shown my conscience in most simple manner, rather than insisted upon the force and vehemence of any one argument. therefore i, for my part, utterly dissent from all voting, until the whole assembly have heard the propositions and the reasons of both parties. for i unfeignedly acknowledge that many in this company are more able to sustain the argument than i am. "think ye it reasonable," said lethington, "that such a multitude as are now convened should reason and vote in these heads and matters that concern the queen's majesty's own person and affairs." "i think," said the other, "that, whosoever should bind, the multitude should hear, unless they have resigned their power to their commissioners. this they have not done, so far as i understand; for my lord justice clerk heard them say, with one voice, that in nowise would they consent that anything should either be voted or concluded here." "i cannot tell," said lethington, "if my lords that be here present, and that bear the burden of such matters, should be bound to their will. what say ye, my lords? will ye vote in this matter, or will ye not vote?" after long reasoning, some that were made for the purpose said, "why may not the lords vote, and then show unto the kirk whatsoever is done?" "that appears to me," said john knox, "not only a backward order, but also a tyranny usurped upon the kirk. for me, do as ye list, as i reason, so i vote; yet i protest, as before, that i dissent from all voting, until the whole assembly understand the questions as well as the reasonings." "well," said lethington, "that cannot be done now, for the time is spent; and therefore, my lord chancellor, said he, ask ye the votes, and take by course every one of the ministers, and one of us." [sidenote: the lords and ministers discuss lethington's proposition and knox's answer.] the rector of st. andrews, first commanded to speak his conscience, said, "i refer to the superintendent of fife, for i think we are both of one judgment; and yet, if ye will that i speak first, my conscience is this. if the queen oppose herself to our religion, which is the only true religion, the nobility and estates of this realm, professors of the true doctrine, may justly oppose themselves to her. but, as concerning her own mass, albeit i know it is idolatry, i am not yet resolved, whether or not we may take it from her by violence." the superintendent of fife said, "that is my conscience." so also affirmed some of the nobility. but others voted frankly, and said that, as the mass was an abomination, it was just and right that it should be suppressed; and that, in so doing, men did no more wrong to the queen's majesty than would they that should, by force, take from her a poisoned cup when she was going to drink it. [sidenote: mr john craig's judgment.] at last, mr. john craig, fellow-minister with john knox in the kirk of edinburgh, was required to give his judgment and vote. "i will gladly show to your honours what i understand," he said; "but i greatly doubt whether my knowledge and conscience shall satisfy you, seeing that ye have heard so many reasons, and are so little moved by them. but yet i shall not conceal from you my judgment, adhering first to the protestation of my brother that our voting prejudge not the liberty of the general assembly. i was in the university of bologna in the year of god , and there, in the place of the black friars of the same town, i saw in the time of their general assembly this conclusion set forth. this i heard reasoned, determined, and concluded:--'all rulers, be they supreme or be they inferior, may be and ought to be reformed or deposed by them by whom they are chosen, confirmed, or admitted to their office, as oft as they break that promise made by the oath to their subjects. princes are no less bound by oath to the subjects, than are the subjects to their princes, and therefore ought to be kept and reformed equally, according to the law and condition of the oath that is made by either party.' "this conclusion, my lords, i heard sustained and concluded, as i have said, in a most notable auditory. the sustainer was a learned man, monsieur thomas de finola, the rector of the university, a man famous in that country. magister vincentius de placentia affirmed the conclusion to be most true and certain, agreeable both with the law of god and man. the occasion of this disputation and conclusion was a certain disorder and tyranny attempted by the pope's governors. these began to make innovations in the country against the laws formerly established, alleging themselves not to be subject to such laws, by reason that they were not institute[ ] by the people, but by the pope, who was king of that country. they claimed that they, having full commission and authority from the pope, might alter and change statutes and ordinances of the country, without any consent of the people. against this usurped tyranny, the learned and the people opposed themselves openly. when all reasons which the pope's governors could allege were heard and confuted, the pope himself was fain to take up the matter, and to promise, not only to keep the liberty of the people, but also that he should neither abrogate any law or statute, nor make any new law without their own consent. therefore, my lord, my vote and conscience is, that the princes are not only bound to keep laws and promises to their subjects, but also that, in case they fail, they may be justly deposed; for the bond betwixt the prince and the people is reciprocal." [ ] placed in authority. then started up a clawback of that corrupt court, and said, "ye wot not what ye say; for ye tell us what was done in bologna; we are a kingdom, and they are but a commonwealth." "my lord," said he, "my judgment is, that every kingdom is or, at least, should be a commonwealth, albeit every commonwealth be not a kingdom; and, therefore, i think that, in a kingdom no less than in a commonwealth, diligence ought to be taken that laws be not violated. the tyranny of princes who continually reign in a kingdom is more hurtful to the subjects, than is the misgovernment of those that from year to year are changed in free commonwealths. but yet, my lords, to assure you and all others further, that head was disputed to the uttermost; and then, in the end, it was concluded, that they spoke not of such things as were done in divers kingdoms and nations by tyranny and negligence of people. 'but we conclude,' said they, 'what ought to be done in all kingdoms and commonwealths, according to the law of god, and the just laws of man. and if, by the negligence of the people, or by the tyranny of princes, contrary laws have been made, yet may that same people, or their posterity, justly crave all things to be reformed, according to the original institution of kings and commonwealths; and such as will not do so, deserve to eat the fruit of their own foolishness.'" master james macgill, then clerk of register, perceiving the votes to be different, and hearing the bold plainness of the foresaid servant of god, said, "i remember that this same question was long debated once before this in my house, and there, by reason that we were not all of one mind, it was concluded that mr. knox should, in all our names, write to mr. calvin for his judgment in the controversy." "nay," said mr. knox, "my lord secretary would not consent that i should write, alleging that the greatest weight of the answer stood in the narrative, and therefore promised that he would write, and i should see it. but when, at divers times, i required him to remember his promise, i found nothing but delay." thereto the secretary did answer, "true it is, i promised to write, and true it is, that divers times mr. knox required me so to do. but, when i had more deeply considered the weight of the matter, i began to find more doubts than i did before, and this one amongst others, how durst i, being a subject, and the queen's majesty's secretary, take upon me, without her own knowledge and consent, to seek resolution of controversies depending betwixt her highness and her subjects." then was there an acclamation of the clawbacks of the court, as if apollo had given his response. it was wisely and faithfully done. "well," said john knox, "let worldly men praise worldly wisdom as highly as they please, i am assured that by such shifts idolatry is maintained, and the truth of jesus christ is betrayed. god one day will be revenged." at this and the like sharpness many were offended, the voting ceased, and every faction began plainly to speak as affection moved them. in the end john knox was commanded yet to write to mr. calvin, and to the learned in other kirks, to ascertain their judgments on that question. this he refused, stating his reason. "i myself am not only fully resolved in conscience, but also i have heard the judgments of the most godly and most learned that be known in europe, in this and all other things that i have affirmed within this realm. i came not to this realm without their resolution; and for my assurance i have the handwritings of many. therefore, if i should now move the same question again, what should i do but either show my own ignorance and forgetfulness, or else inconstancy? so may it please you to pardon me, albeit i write not. but i will teach you the surer way, which is this, write ye and complain upon me, that i teach publicly and affirm constantly such doctrine as offends you, and so shall ye know their plain minds, and whether i and they agree in judgment or not." divers said the offer was good; but no man was found that would be the secretary. and so did the assembly break up after long reasoning. after that time, the ministers were holden of all the courtiers as monsters. in all that time the earl of moray was so fremmed[ ] to john knox, that neither by word nor writing was there any communication betwixt them. [ ] strange; unfriendly. the end. appendix. i. knox's confession. ii. the book of discipline. knox's confession.[ ] [ ] the confession of faith professed and believed by the protestants within the realm of scotland, published by them in parliament, and by the estates thereof ratified and approved, as wholesome and sound doctrine, grounded upon the infallible truth of god's word. (_original title._) the preface. the estates of scotland with the inhabitants of the same professing the holy evangel of christ jesus, to their natural countrymen, and to all other realms and nations, professing the same lord jesus with them, wish grace, peace, and mercy from god the father of our lord jesus christ, with the spirit of righteous judgment, for salutation. long have we thirsted, dear brethren, to have notified unto the world the sum of that doctrine which we profess, and for the which we have sustained infamy and danger. but such has been the rage of satan against us, and against the eternal verity of christ jesus lately born amongst us, that to this day no time has been granted unto us to clear our consciences, as most gladly we would have done; for how we have been tossed for a whole year past, the most part of europe, as we suppose, does understand. but seeing that, of the infinite goodness, above expectation, of our god, who never suffers his afflicted to be utterly confounded, we have obtained some rest and liberty, we could not but set forth this brief and plain confession of such doctrine as is proponed unto us, and as we believe and profess. we do so, partly for satisfaction of our brethren, whose hearts we doubt not have been and yet are wounded by the despiteful railing of such as yet have not learned to speak well, and partly for stopping of the mouths of impudent blasphemers, who boldly condemn that which they have neither heard nor yet understand. not that we judge that the cankered malice of such is able to be cured by this simple confession. no, we know that the sweet savour of the evangel is, and shall be, death to the sons of perdition. but we have chief respect to our weak and infirm brethren, to whom we would communicate the bottom of our hearts, lest that they be troubled or carried away by the diversity of rumours which satan spreads abroad against us, to the defecting of this our most godly enterprise. if any man will note in this our confession any article or sentence repugnant to god's holy word, and it please him of his gentleness and for christian charity's sake to admonish us of the same in writing, we of our honour and fidelity do promise unto him satisfaction from the mouth of god, that is, from his holy scriptures, or else reformation of that which he shall prove to be amiss. we take god to record in our consciences, that from our hearts we abhor all sects of heresy, and all teachers of erroneous doctrine; and that with all humility we embrace the purity of christ's evangel, which is the only food of our souls; and therefore so precious unto us, that we are determined to suffer the extremity of worldly danger, rather than that we will suffer ourselves to be defrauded of the same. for we are most certainly persuaded that whosoever denies christ jesus, or is ashamed of him, in presence of men, shall be denied before the father, and before his holy angels. and therefore, by the assistance of the mighty spirit of our lord jesus, we firmly promise to abide to the end in the confession of this our faith. of god.--cap. i. we confess and acknowledge one only god, to whom only we must cleave, [whom only we must serve],[ ] whom only we must worship, and in whom only we must put our trust; who is eternal, infinite, unmeasurable, incomprehensible, omnipotent, invisible: one in substance, and yet distinct in three persons, the father, the son, and the holy ghost: by whom we confess and believe all things in heaven and in earth, as well visible as invisible, to have been created, to be retained in their being, and to be ruled and guided by his inscrutable providence, to such end as his eternal wisdom, goodness, and justice has appointed them, to the manifestation of his own glory. [ ] words in square brackets are not in mss. but are found in old printed copies of the confession.--ed. of the creation of man.--cap. ii. we confess and acknowledge this our god to have created man, to wit, our first father adam, of whom also god formed the woman to his own image and similitude; to whom he gave wisdom, lordship, justice, free-will, and clear knowledge of himself; so that in the whole nature of man there could be noted no imperfection. from which honour and perfection man and woman did both fall; the woman being deceived by the serpent, and man obeying to the voice of the woman, both conspiring against the sovereign majesty of god, who before, in expressed words, had threatened death, if they presumed to eat of the forbidden tree. of original sin.--cap. iii. by which transgression, commonly called original sin, was the image of god utterly defaced in man; and he and his posterity of nature became enemies to god, slaves to satan, and servants to sin; insomuch that death everlasting has had, and shall have, power and dominion over all that have not been, are not, or shall not be regenerate from above: which regeneration is wrought by the power of the holy ghost, working in the hearts of the elect of god an assured faith in the promise of god, revealed to us in his word; by which faith they apprehend christ jesus, with the graces and benefits promised in him. of the revelation of the promise.--cap. iv. for this we constantly believe, that god, after the fearful and horrible defection of man from his obedience, did seek adam again, call upon him, rebuke his sin, convict him of the same, and in the end made unto him a most joyful promise, to wit, that the seed of the woman should break down the serpent's head; that is, he should destroy the works of the devil. which promise, as it was repeated and made more clear from time to time, was embraced with joy, and most constantly retained by all the faithful, from adam to noah, from noah to abraham, from abraham to david, and so forth to the incarnation of christ jesus: who all, we mean the faithful fathers under the law, did see the joyful days of christ jesus, and did rejoice. the continuance, increase, and preservation of the kirk.--cap. v. we most constantly believe, that god preserved, instructed, multiplied, honoured, decorated, and from death called to life his kirk in all ages, from adam until the coming of christ jesus in the flesh: abraham he called from his father's country, him he instructed, his seed he multiplied, the same he marvellously preserved and more marvellously delivered from the bondage [and tyranny] of pharaoh; to them he gave his laws, constitutions, and ceremonies; them he possessed in the land of canaan; to them, after judges, and after saul, he gave david to be king, to whom he made promise, that of the fruit of his loins should one sit for ever upon his regal seat. to this same people, from time to time, he sent prophets to lead them back to the right way of their god, from the which oftentimes they declined by idolatry, and albeit, for their stubborn contempt of justice, he was compelled to give them into the hands of their enemies, as before was threatened by the mouth of moses, insomuch that the holy city was destroyed, the temple burned with fire, and the whole land left desolate the space of seventy years; yet of mercy did he lead them back again to jerusalem, where the city and temple were rebuilt, and they, against all temptations and assaults of satan, did abide until the messias came, according to the promise. of the incarnation of christ jesus.--cap. vi. when the fulness of time came, god sent his son, his eternal wisdom, the substance of his own glory, into this world, who took the nature of manhood of the substance of a woman, to wit, of a virgin, and that by the operation of the holy ghost: and so was born the just seed of david, the angel of the great counsel of god; the very messias promised, whom we acknowledge and confess emmanuel; very god and very man, two perfect natures united and joined in one person. by this our confession we condemn the damnable and pestilent heresies of arius, marcion, eutyches, nestorius, and such others as either deny the eternity of his godhead or the verity of his human nature, confound them, or divide them. why it behoved the mediator to be very god and very man.--cap. vii. we acknowledge and confess that this most wondrous conjunction betwixt the godhead and the manhood in christ jesus did proceed from the eternal and immutable decree of god, whence also our salvation springs and depends. election.--cap. viii. for that same eternal god, and father, who of mere mercy elected us in christ jesus, his son, before the foundation of the world was laid, appointed him to be our head, our brother, our pastor, and great bishop of our souls. but because that the enmity betwixt the justice of god and our sins was such that no flesh by itself could or might have attained unto god, it behoved that the son of god should descend unto us, and take himself a body of our body, flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bones, and so become the perfect mediator betwixt god and man; giving power to so many as believe in him to be the sons of god, as he himself does witness: "i pass up to my father and unto your father, to my god and unto your god." by this most holy fraternity, whatsoever we have lost in adam is restored to us again. and for this cause are we not afraid to call god our father, not so much because he hath created us, which we have in common with the reprobate, as for that he has given to us his only son to be our brother, and given unto us grace to [acknowledge and] embrace him for our only mediator, as before is said. it behoved further, the messias and redeemer to be very god and very man, because he was to underlie the punishment due for our transgressions, and to present himself in the presence of his father's judgment, as in our person to suffer for our transgression and inobedience, by death to overcome him that was author of death. but because the only godhead could not suffer death, neither could the only manhood overcome the same; he joined both together in one person, that the imbecility of the one should suffer, and be subject to death, which we had deserved, and the infinite and invincible power of the other, to wit, of the godhead, should triumph and procure for us life, liberty, and perpetual victory. and so we confess, and most undoubtedly believe. christ's death, passion, burial, etc.--cap. ix. that our lord jesus christ offered himself a voluntary sacrifice unto his father for us; that he suffered contradiction of sinners; that he was wounded and plagued for our transgressions; that he, being the clean and innocent lamb of god, was condemned in the presence of an earthly judge, that we might be absolved before the tribunal seat of our god; that he suffered not only the cruel death of the cross, which was accursed by the sentence of god, but also that he suffered for a season the wrath of his father, which sinners had deserved. but yet we avow that he remained the only and well-beloved and blessed son of his father, even in the midst of his anguish and torment, which he suffered in body and soul, to make the full satisfaction for the sins of his people. we confess and avow, that there remains no other sacrifice for sins; which if any affirm, we nothing doubt to avow that they are blasphemers against christ's death, and the everlasting purgation and satisfaction procured for us by the same. resurrection.--cap. x. we undoubtedly believe that, insomuch as it was impossible that the dolours of death should retain in bondage the author of life, our lord jesus christ, crucified, dead, and buried, descended into hell, did rise again for our justification, and the destruction of him who was the author of death, and brought life again to us that were subject to death and to its bondage. we know that his resurrection was confirmed by the testimony of his very enemies; by the resurrection of the dead, whose sepulchres did open, and who did arise and appear to many within the city of jerusalem. it was also confirmed by the testimony of his angels, and by the senses and judgments of his apostles, and of others who had conversation, and did eat and drink with him after his resurrection. ascension.--cap. xi. we nothing doubt but that the self-same body, which was born of the virgin, was crucified, dead, and buried, and rose again, did ascend into the heavens for the accomplishment of all things; where, in our names and for our comfort, he has received all power in heaven and in earth; where he sits at the right hand of the father, inaugurate in his kingdom, advocate and only mediator for us; which glory, honour, and prerogative he alone amongst the brethren shall possess, until all his enemies be made his footstool, as we undoubtedly believe they shall be in the final judgment; to the execution whereof we certainly believe that our lord jesus shall visibly return as we believe that he was seen to ascend. and then we firmly believe, that the time of refreshing and restitution of all things shall come, insomuch that they that from the beginning have suffered violence, injury, and wrong for righteousness' sake, shall inherit that blessed immortality promised from the beginning: but contrariwise, the stubborn, inobedient, cruel, oppressors, filthy persons, adulterers, and all sorts of unfaithful men shall be cast into the dungeon of outer darkness, where their worm shall not die, neither yet their fire be extinguished. the remembrance of which day, and of the judgment to be executed in the same, is not only to us a bridle whereby our carnal lusts are refrained; but also such inestimable comfort, that neither may the threatening of worldly princes, nor yet the fear of temporal death and present danger, move us to renounce and forsake that blessed society which we the members have with our head and only mediator, christ jesus, whom we confess and avow to be the messias promised, the only head of his kirk, our just lawgiver, our only high priest, advocate, and mediator. in which honours and offices, if man or angel presume to intrude themselves, we utterly detest and abhor them, as blasphemous to our sovereign and supreme governor, christ jesus. faith in the holy ghost.--cap. xii. this our faith, and the assurance of the same, proceeds not from flesh and blood, that is to say, from no natural powers within us, but is the inspiration of the holy ghost. him we confess god, equal with the father and with the son; who sanctifieth us, and bringeth us into all truth by his own operation; without him we should remain for ever enemies to god, and ignorant of his son, christ jesus. for of nature we are so dead, so blind, and so perverse, that neither can we feel when we are pricked, see the light when it shines, nor assent to the will of god when it is revealed; only the spirit of the lord jesus quickeneth that which is dead, removeth the darkness from our minds, and boweth our stubborn hearts to the obedience of his blessed will. as we confess that god the father created us when we were not, and as his son, our lord jesus, redeemed us when we were enemies to him, so also do we confess that the holy ghost does sanctify and regenerate us, altogether without respect to any merit proceeding from us, be it before, or be it after our regeneration. in more plain words, as we willingly spoil ourselves of all honour and glory of our own creation and redemption, so do we also of our regeneration and sanctification: for of ourselves we are not sufficient to think one good thought; but he who has begun the good work in us is only he that continueth us in the same, to the praise and glory of his undeserved grace. the cause of good works.--cap. xiii. the cause of good works we therefore confess to be, not our freewill, but the spirit of the lord jesus; who, dwelling in our hearts by true faith, brings forth such good works as god hath prepared for us to walk in: for we most boldly affirm, that it is blasphemy to say that christ jesus abides in the hearts of such as in whom there is no spirit of sanctification. and therefore we fear not to affirm, that murderers, oppressors, cruel persecutors, adulterers, whoremongers, filthy persons, idolaters, drunkards, thieves, and all workers of iniquity, have neither true faith, nor any portion of the spirit of sanctification, which proceedeth from the lord jesus, so long as they obstinately continue in their wickedness. for how soon that ever the spirit of the lord jesus, which god's elect children receive by true faith, takes possession in the heart of any man, so soon does he regenerate and renew the same man; so that he begins to hate that which before he loved, and begins to love that which before he hated; and from thence comes that continual battle which is betwixt the flesh and the spirit in god's children; while the flesh and natural man, according to its own corruption, lusts for things pleasing and delectable unto itself, grudges in adversity, is lifted up in prosperity, and at every moment is prone and ready to offend the majesty of god. but the spirit of god, which giveth witness to our spirit that we are the sons of god, makes us to resist the devil, to abhor filthy pleasures, to groan in god's presence for deliverance from this bondage of corruption; and finally, so to triumph over sin that it reign not in our mortal bodies. carnal men, being destitute of god's spirit, have not this battle; these do follow and obey sin with greediness, and without repentance, even as the devil and their corrupt lusts do prick them. but the sons of god, as before is said, do fight against sin, do sob and mourn, when they perceive themselves tempted to iniquity: and, if they fall, they rise again with earnest and unfeigned repentance. and these things they do not by their own power; but the power of the lord jesus, without whom they were able to do nothing, worketh in them all that is good. what works are reputed good before god.--cap. xiv. we confess and acknowledge that god has given to man his holy law, in which not only are forbidden all such works as displease and offend his godly majesty; but also are commended all such as please him, and as he hath promised to reward. and these works be of two sorts; the one are done to the honour of god, the other to the profit of our neighbours; and both have the revealed will of god for their assurance. to have one god; to worship and honour him; to call upon him in all our troubles; to reverence his holy name; to hear his word; to believe the same; to communicate with his holy sacraments: these are the works of the first table. to honour father, mother, princes, rulers, and superior powers; to love them; to support them, yea, to obey their charges, unless repugnant to the commandment of god; to save the lives of innocents; to repress tyranny; to defend the oppressed; to keep our bodies clean and holy; to live in sobriety and temperance; to deal justly with all men, both in word and in deed; and, finally, to repress all appetite for our neighbour's hurt: these are the good works of the second table, which are most pleasing and acceptable unto god, as those works that are commanded by himself. the contrary is sin most odious, which always displeases him, and provokes him to anger. not to call upon him alone when we have need; not to hear his word with reverence; to contemn and despise it; to have or to worship idols; to maintain and defend idolatry; lightly to esteem the reverent name of god; to profane, abuse, or contemn the sacraments of christ jesus; to disobey or resist any that god has placed in authority, while they pass not over the bounds of their office; to murder, or to consent thereto; to bear hatred, or to suffer innocent blood to be shed if we may gainstand it; and, finally, the transgressing of any other commandment in the first or second table, we confess and affirm to be sin, by which god's hot displeasure is kindled against the proud and unthankful world. so that good works we affirm to be these only that are done in faith, and at god's commandment, who in his law has expressed what be the things that please him. and evil works, we affirm to be, not only those that are expressly done against god's commandment, but those also that, in matters of religion and worshipping of god, have no other assurance but the invention and opinion of man, which god from the beginning has ever rejected; as, by the prophet isaiah and by our master christ jesus, we are taught in these words--"in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men." the perfection of the law and imperfection of man.--cap. xv. the law of god we confess and acknowledge most just, most equal, most holy, and most perfect; commanding those things which, being wrought in perfection, were able to give life, and able to bring man to eternal felicity. but our nature is so corrupt, so weak, and imperfect, that we are never able to fulfil the works of the law in perfection; yea, "if we say we have no sin," (even after we are regenerate,) "we deceive ourselves, and the truth of god is not in us." and therefore it behoved us to apprehend christ jesus, with his justice and satisfaction, who is the end and accomplishment of the law to all that believe; by whom we are set at this liberty, that the curse and malediction of god fall not upon us, albeit we fulfil not the same in all points. for god the father, beholding us in the body of his son christ jesus, accepteth our imperfect obedience as it were perfect, and covereth our works, which are defiled with many spots, with the justice of his son. as we have already plainly confessed, we do not mean that we are so set at liberty that we owe no obedience to the law; but we affirm that no man on earth, christ jesus only excepted, hath given, giveth, or shall give in work, that obedience to the law which the law requireth. when we have done all things, we must fall down and unfeignedly confess that we are unprofitable servants. and therefore whosoever boast themselves of the merits of their own works, or put their trust in the works of supererogation, boast themselves of that which is not, and put their trust in damnable idolatry. of the kirk.--cap. xvi. as we believe in one god, father, son, and holy ghost, so do we most earnestly believe that from the beginning there has been, now is, and to the end of the world shall be a church; that is to say, a company and multitude of men chosen of god, who rightly worship and embrace him, by true faith in christ jesus, who is the only head of the same kirk, which also is the body and spouse of christ jesus; which kirk is catholic, that is, universal, because it contains the elect of all ages, of all realms, nations, and tongues, be they of the jews, or be they of the gentiles, who have communion and society with god the father, and with his son christ jesus, through the sanctification of his holy spirit; and therefore it is called the communion, not of profane persons, but of saints, who, as citizens of the heavenly jerusalem, have the fruition of the most inestimable benefits, to wit, of one god, one lord jesus, one faith, and of one baptism; out of the which kirk there is neither life nor eternal felicity. and therefore we utterly abhor the blasphemy of those that affirm that men which live according to equity and justice shall be saved, what religion soever they have professed. for as without christ jesus there is neither life nor salvation, so shall there none be participant thereof but such as the father has given unto his son christ jesus, and those that in time come to him, avow his doctrine, and believe into him--we comprehend the children with the faithful parents. this kirk is invisible, known only to god, who alone knoweth whom he has chosen, and comprehends as well, as said is, the elect that be departed, commonly called the kirk triumphant, as those that yet live and fight against sin and satan as shall live hereafter. the immortality of the souls.--cap. xvii. the elect departed are in peace, and rest from their labours; not that they sleep and come to a certain oblivion, as some fantastic heads do affirm, but they are delivered from all fear, all torment, and all temptation, to which we and all god's elect are subject in this life; and therefore do bear the name of the kirk militant. as contrariwise, the reprobate and unfaithful departed have anguish, torment, and pain, that cannot be expressed; so that neither are the one nor the other in such sleep that they feel not joy or torment, as, in the parable of christ jesus in the sixteenth chapter of luke, his words to the thief, and these words of the souls crying under the altar, "o lord, thou that art righteous and just, how long shalt thou not revenge our blood upon them that dwell upon the earth!" do plainly testify. of the notes by which the true kirk is discerned from the false, and who shall be judge of the doctrine.--cap. xviii. because that satan from the beginning has laboured to deck his pestilent synagogue with the title of the kirk of god, and has inflamed the hearts of cruel murderers to persecute, trouble, and molest the true kirk and members thereof, as cain did abel; ishmael, isaac; esau, jacob; and the whole priesthood of the jews, jesus christ himself and his apostles after him; it is a thing most requisite that the true kirk be discerned from the filthy synagogue, by clear and perfect notes, lest we, being deceived, receive and embrace to our own condemnation the one for the other. the notes, signs, and assured tokens whereby the immaculate spouse of christ jesus is known from that horrible harlot the kirk malignant, we affirm are neither antiquity, title usurped, lineal descent, place appointed, nor multitude of men approving an error; for cain in age and title was preferred to abel and seth. jerusalem had prerogative above all places of the earth, where also were the priests lineally descended from aaron; and greater multitude followed the scribes, pharisees, and priests than unfeignedly believed and approved christ jesus and his doctrine; and yet, as we suppose, no man of sound judgment will grant that any of the forenamed were the kirk of god. the notes, therefore, of the true kirk of god we believe, confess, and avow to be, first, the true preaching of the word of god; into the which god has revealed himself to us, as the writings of the prophets and apostles do declare. secondly, the right administration of the sacraments of christ jesus, which must be annexed to the word and promise of god, to seal and confirm the same in our hearts. lastly, ecclesiastical discipline uprightly ministered, as god's word prescribes, whereby vice is repressed, and virtue nourished. wheresoever then these former notes are seen, and of any time continue, be the number never so few above two or three, there, without all doubt, is the true kirk of christ, who, according to his promise, is in the midst of them; not that kirk universal, of which we have before spoken, but particular; such as was in corinth, galatia, ephesus, and other places in which the ministry was planted by paul, and were of himself named the kirks of god. and such kirks, we the inhabitants of the realm of scotland, professors of christ jesus, confess us to have in our cities, towns, and places reformed; for the doctrine taught in our kirks is contained in the written word of god, to wit, in the books of the old and new testaments. in these books we mean, which of the ancient have been reputed canonical, in the which we affirm that all things necessary to be believed for the salvation of mankind are sufficiently expressed; the interpretation whereof, we confess, neither appertaineth to private nor public person, nor yet to any kirk for any pre-eminence or prerogative, personal or local, which one has above another; but appertaineth to the spirit of god, by the which also the scripture was written. when controversy then happeneth for the right understanding of any place or sentence of scripture, or for the reformation of any abuse within the kirk of god, we ought not so much to look what men before us have said or done, as unto that which the holy ghost uniformly speaks within the body of the scriptures, and unto that which christ jesus himself did, and commanded to be done. for this is a thing universally granted, that the spirit of god, which is the spirit of unity, is in nothing contrarious unto himself. if then the interpretation, determination, or sentence of any doctor, kirk, or council, repugn to the plain word of god written in any other place of the scripture, it is a thing most certain, that theirs is not the true understanding and meaning of the holy ghost, supposing that councils, realms, and nations have approved and received the same. for we dare not receive and admit any interpretation which directly repugneth to any principal point of our faith, or to any other plain text of scripture, or yet unto the rule of charity. the authority of the scriptures.--cap. xix. as we believe and confess the scriptures of god sufficient to instruct and make the man of god perfect, so do we affirm and avow the authority of the same to be of god, and neither to depend on men nor angels. we affirm, therefore, that such as allege the scripture to have no other authority, but that which is received from the kirk, to be blasphemous against god, and injurious to the true kirk, which always heareth and obeyeth the voice of her own spouse and pastor, but taketh not upon her to be mistress over the same. of general councils, of their power, authority, and causes of their convention.--cap. xx. as we do not rashly condemn that which godly men assembled together in general council, lawfully gathered, have approved unto us; so without just examination dare we not receive whatsoever is obtrused unto men, under the name of general councils. for plain it is, that as they were men, so have some of them manifestly erred, and that in matters of great weight and importance. so far, then, as the council proveth the determination and commandment that it giveth by the plain word of god, so far do we reverence and embrace the same. but if men, under the name of a council, pretend to forge unto us new articles of our faith, or to make constitutions repugning to the word of god, then utterly we must refuse the same, as the doctrine of devils which draws our souls from the voice of our only god, to follow the doctrines and constitutions of men. the cause, then, why general councils were convened, was neither to make any perpetual law, which god before had not made, nor yet to forge new articles of our belief, nor to give the word of god authority, much less to make that to be his word, or yet the true interpretation of the same, which was not before by his holy will expressed in his word. but the cause of councils, we mean of such as merit the name of councils, was partly for confutation of heresies, and for giving public confession of their faith to the posterity following; which both they did by the authority of god's written word, and not by any opinion or prerogative that they could not err, by reason of their general assembly. and this we judge to have been the chief cause of general councils. the other was for good policy and order to be constitute and observed in the kirk, in which, as in the house of god, it becomes all things to be done decently and in order. not that we think that a policy and an order in ceremonies can be appointed for all ages, times, and places; for as ceremonies, such as men have devised, are but temporal, so may and ought they to be changed when they rather foster superstition, than edify the kirk using the same. of the sacraments.--cap. xxi. as the fathers under the law, besides the verity of the sacrifices, had two chief sacraments, to wit, circumcision and the passover, the despisers and contemners whereof were not reputed god's people; so do we acknowledge and confess that we now, in the time of the evangel, have two sacraments only, institute by the lord jesus, and commanded to be used of all those that will be reputed members of his body, to wit, baptism and the supper, or table of the lord jesus, called the communion of his body and blood. and these sacraments, as well of the old as of the new testament, were institute of god, not only to make a visible difference betwixt his people and those that were without his league, but also to exercise the faith of his children; and by participation of the same sacraments, to seal in their hearts the assurance of his promise, and of that most blessed conjunction, union, and society, which the elect have with their head, christ jesus. and thus we utterly condemn the vanity of those that affirm sacraments to be nothing else but naked and bare signs. no, we assuredly believe that by baptism we are ingrafted in christ jesus to be made partakers of his justice, by the which our sins are covered and remitted; and, also, that in the supper, rightly used, christ jesus is so joined with us, that he becomes the very nourishment and food of our souls. not that we imagine any transubstantiation of bread into christ's natural body, and of wine into his natural blood, as the papists have perniciously taught and damnably believed; but this union and communion which we have with the body and blood of christ jesus in the right use of the sacraments, is wrought by operation of the holy ghost, who by true faith carries us above all things that are visible, carnal and earthly, and makes us to feed upon the body and blood of christ jesus, which was once broken and shed for us, which now is in the heaven, and appeareth in the presence of the father for us. and yet, notwithstanding the far distance of place, which is betwixt his body now glorified in the heaven and us now mortal in this earth, yet we most assuredly believe that the bread which we break is the communion of christ's body, and the cup which we bless is the communion of his blood. so that we confess and undoubtedly believe that the faithful, in the right use of the lord's table, so do eat the body and drink the blood of the lord jesus, that he remaineth in them and they in him; yea, that they are so made flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bones, that, as the eternal godhead hath given to the flesh of christ jesus (which of its own condition and nature was mortal and corruptible) life and immortality, so doth christ jesus his flesh and blood eaten and drunken by us, give to us the same prerogative. albeit we confess that these are neither given unto us at that only time, nor yet by the proper power and virtue of the sacraments alone, we affirm that the faithful in the right use of the lord's table have such conjunction with christ jesus as the natural man cannot comprehend: yea, and farther we affirm that, albeit the faithful oppressed by negligence, and human infirmity, do not profit so much as they would at the very instant action of the supper, yet shall it after bring forth fruit, as lively seed sown in good ground; for the holy spirit, which can never be divided from the right institution of the lord jesus, will not frustrate the faithful of the fruit of that mystical action. but all this, we say, comes by true faith, which apprehendeth christ jesus, who only makes his sacraments effectual unto us; and, therefore, whosoever slandereth us, as that we affirmed or believed sacraments to be only naked and bare signs, do injury unto us, and speak against a manifest truth. but liberally and frankly we must confess that we make a distinction betwixt christ jesus in his natural substance and the elements in the sacramental signs; so that we will neither worship the signs in place of that which is signified by them, nor yet do we despise and interpret them as unprofitable and vain; but we use them with all reverence, examining ourselves diligently before we do so, because we are assured by the mouth of the apostle that such as eat of that bread, and drink of that cup, unworthily, are guilty of the body and blood of the lord jesus. of the right administration of the sacraments.--cap. xxii. that sacraments be rightly ministered, we judge two things requisite. the one, that they be ministered by lawful ministers, whom we affirm to be only they that are appointed to the preaching of the word, or into whose mouths god has put some sermon of exhortation, they being men lawfully chosen thereto by some kirk. the other, that they be ministered in such elements, and in such sort as god hath appointed. else we affirm that they cease to be right sacraments of christ jesus. and, therefore, it is, that we flee the society of the papistical kirk, in participation of their sacraments; first, because their ministers are no ministers of christ jesus; yea, which is more horrible, they suffer women, whom the holy ghost will not suffer to teach in the congregation, to baptize. and, secondly, because they have so adulterate, both the one sacrament and the other, with their own inventions, that no part of christ's action abideth in the original purity; for oil, salt, spittle, and such-like in baptism, are but men's inventions; adoration, veneration, bearing through streets and towns, and keeping of bread in boxes or buists,[ ] are profanation of christ's sacraments, and no use of the same. for christ jesus said, "take, eat," etc., "do ye this in remembrance of me." by these words and charge he sanctified bread and wine to be the sacrament of his body and blood; to the end that the one should be eaten, and that all should drink of the other; and not that they should be kept to be worshipped and honoured as god, as the blind papists have done heretofore, who also have committed sacrilege, stealing from the people the one part of the sacrament, to wit, the blessed cup. moreover, that the sacraments be rightly used, it is required that the end and cause why the sacraments were institute be understood and observed, as well by the minister as by the receivers: for, if the opinion be changed in the receiver, the right use ceaseth. this is most evident from the rejection of the sacrifices (as also if the teacher teach false doctrine) which were odious and abominable unto god, albeit they were his own ordinances, because wicked men made use of them for another end than god had ordained. the same affirm we of the sacraments in the papistical kirk, in which we affirm the whole action of the lord jesus to be adulterate, as well in the external form as in the end and opinion. what christ jesus did and commanded to be done, is evident by the three evangelists, [who speak of the sacraments,] and by saint paul. what the priest does at his altar we need not rehearse. the end and cause of christ's institution, and why the self same should be used, is expressed in these words--"do this in remembrance of me. as oft as ye shall eat of this bread and drink of this cup, ye shall show forth" (that is, extol, preach, and magnify) "the lord's death till he come." but to what end, and in what opinion the priests say their masses, let the words of the same, their own doctors and writings witness; to wit, that they, as mediators betwixt christ and his kirk, do offer unto god the father a sacrifice propitiatory for the sins of the quick and the dead. this doctrine, as blasphemous to christ jesus, and making derogation to the sufficiency of his only sacrifice, once offered for purgation of all those that shall be sanctified, we utterly abhor, detest, and renounce. [ ] chests. to whom sacraments appertain.--cap. xxiii. we confess and acknowledge that baptism appertaineth as well to the infants of the faithful as to those that be of age and discretion. and so we condemn the error of the anabaptists, who deny baptism to appertain to children before they have faith and understanding. but the supper of the lord we confess to appertain only to such as have been of the household of faith and can try and examine themselves, as well in their faith as in their duty towards their neighbours. such as eat [and drink] at that holy table without faith, or being at dissension or division with their brethren, do eat unworthily: and, therefore, in our kirks our ministers take public and particular examination of the knowledge and conversation of such as are to be admitted to the table of the lord jesus. of the civil magistrate.--cap. xxiv. we confess and acknowledge empires, kingdoms, dominions, and cities to be distinct and ordained by god: the powers and authorities in the same, be it of emperors in their empires, of kings in their realms, dukes and princes in their dominions, or of other magistrates in free cities, to be god's holy ordinance, ordained for manifestation of his own glory, and for the singular profit and commodity of mankind. so that whosoever goes about to take away or to confound the whole state of civil policies, now long established, we affirm not only to be enemies to mankind, but also wickedly to fight against god's expressed will. we farther confess and acknowledge that such persons as are placed in authority are to be loved, honoured, feared, and holden in most reverent estimation; because they are the lieutenants of god, in whose session god himself doth sit and judge (yea, even the judges and princes themselves), to whom by god is given the sword, to the praise and defence of good men, and to revenge and punish all open malefactors. moreover, to kings, princes, rulers, and magistrates, we affirm that chiefly and most principally the reformation and purgation of religion appertains; so that not only they are appointed for civil policy, but also for maintenance of the true religion, and for suppressing of idolatry and superstition whatsoever, as in david, jehoshaphat, hezekiah, josiah and others, highly commended for their zeal in that case, may be espied. and therefore we confess and vow, that such as resist the supreme power, doing that thing which appertains to his charge, do resist god's ordinance, and therefore cannot be guiltless. and farther, we affirm that whosoever deny unto them their aid, counsel, and comfort, while the princes and rulers vigilantly travail in the executing of their office, deny their help, support, and counsel to god, who by the presence of his lieutenant craveth it of them. the gifts freely given to the kirk.--cap. xxv. albeit that the word of god truly preached, the sacraments rightly ministered, and discipline executed according to the word of god, be the certain and infallible signs of the true kirk; yet do we not so mean that every particular person joined with such a company, is an elect member of christ jesus. for we acknowledge and confess that darnel, cockle, and chaff may be sown, grow, and in great abundance lie in the midst of the wheat; that is, the reprobate may be joined in the society of the elect, and may externally use with them the benefits of the word and sacraments; but such, being but temporal professors in mouth and not in heart, do fall back and do not continue to the end; and therefore have they no fruit of christ's death, resurrection, nor ascension. but such as with heart unfeignedly believe, and with mouth boldly confess the lord jesus, as before we have said, shall most assuredly receive these gifts; first, in this life, remission of sins, and that by faith only in christ's blood, insomuch that, albeit sin remain and continually abide in these our mortal bodies, it is not imputed unto us, but is remitted and covered with christ's justice. secondly, in the general judgment there shall be given to every man and woman resurrection of the flesh; for the sea shall give her dead, the earth those that therein be inclosed; yea, the eternal, our god, shall stretch out his hand upon dust, and the dead shall arise incorruptible, and that in the substance of the self-same flesh that every man now bears, to receive, according to their works, glory or punishment. for such as now delight in vanity, cruelty, filthiness, superstition, or idolatry, shall be adjudged to the fire inextinguishable, in the which they shall be tormented for ever, as well in their own bodies, as in their souls, which now they give to serve the devil in all abomination. but such as continue in well-doing to the end, boldly professing the lord jesus, [we constantly believe that they shall receive glory, honour and immortality, to reign for ever in life everlasting with christ jesus,] to whose glorified body all his elect shall be made like, when he shall appear again to judgment, and shall render up the kingdom to god his father, who then shall be, and ever shall remain all in all things, god blessed for ever: to whom, with the son, and with the holy ghost, be all honour and glory, now and ever. amen. _arise, o lord, and let thy enemies be confounded: let them flee from thy presence that hate thy godly name: give thy servants strength to speak thy word in boldness: and let all nations attain to thy true knowledge._ these acts and articles were read in face of parliament and ratified by the three estates of the realm at edinburgh, on the th day of august in the year of god . the book of discipline.[ ] [ ] in a preface, the compilers addressed themselves to the great council of scotland, "now admitted to the regiment, by the providence of god," acknowledging instructions, received on th april , to commit to writing their judgments touching the reformation of religion. the book is offered "for common order and uniformity to be known in this realm, concerning doctrine, administration of sacraments [election of ministers, provision for their sustentation], ecclesiastical discipline, and policy of the kirk." the lords are desired neither to admit anything which god's plain word shall not approve, nor yet to reject such ordinances as equity, justice, and god's word do specify. cf. pp. , _supra_. i. of doctrine. seeing that christ jesus is he whom god the father has commanded only to be heard and followed of his sheep, we urge it necessary that his evangel be truly and openly preached in every kirk and assembly of this realm; and that all doctrine repugning to the same be utterly suppressed as damnable to man's salvation. lest upon this generality ungodly men take occasion to cavil, this we add for explication. by preaching of the evangel, we understand not only the scriptures of the new testament but also of the old; to wit, the law, prophets, and histories, in which christ jesus is no less contained in figure, than we have him now expressed in verity. and, therefore, with the apostle we affirm, that all scripture inspired of god is profitable to instruct, to reprove, and to exhort. in which books of old and new testaments we affirm that all things necessary for the instruction of the kirk, and to make the man of god perfect, are contained and sufficiently expressed. by the contrary doctrine, we understand whatsoever men, by laws, councils, or constitutions have imposed upon the consciences of men, without the expressed commandment of god's word; such as vows of chastity, forswearing of marriage, binding of men and women to several and disguised apparels, to the superstitious observation of fasting days, difference of meat for conscience' sake, prayer for the dead, and keeping of holy days of certain saints commanded by man, such as be all those that the papists have invented, as the feasts, as they term them, of apostles, martyrs, virgins, of christmas, circumcision, epiphany, purification, and other fond feasts of our lady. which things, because in god's scriptures they neither have commandment nor assurance, we judge utterly to be abolished from this realm; affirming farther, that the obstinate maintainers and teachers of such abominations ought not to escape the punishment of the civil magistrate. ii. of sacraments. to the true preaching of the holy evangel of christ jesus it is necessary that his holy sacraments be annexed, and truly ministered, as seals and visible confirmations of the spiritual promises contained in the word. these be two, to wit, baptism and the holy supper of the lord jesus; which are rightly ministered when the people, before the administration of the same, are plainly instructed by a lawful minister, and put in mind of god's free grace and mercy, offered unto the penitent in christ jesus; when god's promises are rehearsed, the end and use of the sacraments declared, and that in such a tongue as the people do understand; when, farther, to them is nothing added, from them nothing diminished, and in their practice nothing changed from the institution of the lord jesus and practice of his holy apostles. albeit the order of geneva, which now is used in some of our kirks, is sufficient to instruct the diligent reader how both these sacraments may be rightly ministered; yet, that a uniformity be kept, we have thought good to add the following as superabundant. in baptism, we acknowledge nothing to be used except the element of water only; that the word and declaration of the promises ought to precede we have already said. wherefore, whosoever presumeth in baptism to use oil, salt, wax, spittle, conjuration or crossing, accuseth the perfect institution of christ jesus of imperfection; for it was void of all such inventions devised by men. and such as would presume to alter christ's perfect ordinance you ought severely to punish. the table of the lord is then most rightly ministered when it approacheth most nigh to christ's own action. but plain it is that at that supper, christ jesus sat with his disciples, and therefore do we judge, that sitting at a table is most convenient to that holy action; that bread and wine ought to be there; that thanks ought to be given; distribution of the same made; and commandment given that the bread should be taken and eaten; and that all should likewise drink of the cup of wine, with declaration what both the one and the other is, we suppose no godly man will doubt. as touching the damnable errors of the papists, who can defraud the common people of the one part of that holy sacrament, to wit, of the cup of the lord's blood, we suppose their error to be so manifest that it needeth no confutation; neither yet intend we to confute anything in this our simple confession; but to offer public disputation to all that list to oppugn anything affirmed by us. that the minister break the bread and distribute the same to those that be next unto him, commanding the rest, every one with reverence and sobriety, to break with other, we think nighest to christ's action, and to the perfect practice of the apostles, as we read it in st. paul. during this action, we think it necessary that some comfortable places of the scriptures be read, which may bring in mind the death of christ jesus and the benefit of the same; for, seeing that in that action we ought chiefly to remember the lord's death, we judge the scriptures making mention of the same to be most apt to stir up our dull minds, then and at all times. let the discretion of the ministers appoint the places to be read as they think good. what times we think most convenient for the administration of the one and of the other of these sacraments shall be declared in the policy of the kirk. iii. touching the abolition of idolatry. as we require christ jesus to be truly preached, and his holy sacraments to be rightly ministered; so can we not cease to require idolatry, with all monuments and places of the same, as abbeys, monasteries, friaries, nunneries, chapels, chantries, cathedral kirks, canonries, colleges, others than presently are parish kirks or schools, to be utterly suppressed in all bounds and places of this realm, except only the palaces, mansions, and dwelling places adjacent thereto, with orchards and yards of the same. as also that idolatry may be removed from the presence of all persons of whatsoever estate or condition within this realm. let your honours be assuredly persuaded that where idolatry is maintained, or permitted where it may be suppressed, there shall god's wrath reign, not only upon the blind and obstinate idolater, but also upon the negligent sufferers of the same; especially if god have armed their hands with power to suppress such abomination. by idolatry we understand the mass, invocation of saints, adoration of images, and the keeping and retaining of the same: and finally all honouring of god, not contained in his holy word. iv. concerning ministers and their lawful election. . in a kirk reformed or tending to reformation, none ought to presume to preach, or to minister the sacraments, until they be called to the same in proper form. ordinary vocation consisteth in election, examination, and admission; and, because election of ministers in this cursed papistry has altogether been abused, we think it expedient to treat of it more largely. it appertaineth to the people, and to every several congregation, to elect their minister. and in case that they be found negligent therein the space of forty days, the best reformed kirk, to wit, the church of the superintendent with his council, may present unto them a man whom they judge apt to feed the flock of christ jesus, who must be examined as well in life and manners, as in doctrine and knowledge. and that this may be done with more exact diligence, the persons that are to be examined must be commanded to compear before men of soundest judgment, resident in some principal town adjacent unto them; as they that be in fife, angus, mearns, or strathearn, to present themselves in st. andrews; those that be in lothian, merse, or teviotdale, in edinburgh; and likewise those that be in other districts must resort to the best reformed cities or towns, that is, to the city of the superintendent. there, first, in the schools or, failing that, in open assembly, and before the congregation, they must give declaration of their gifts, utterance, and knowledge, by interpreting some place of scripture to be appointed by the ministry. this ended, the person that is presented, or that offered himself to the administration of the kirk, must be examined by the ministers and elders of the kirk, and that openly and before all that list to hear, in all the chief points that now lie in controversy betwixt us and the papists, anabaptists, arians, or other such enemies to the christian religion. if he be found sound, able to persuade by wholesome doctrine, and to convince the gainsayers, then must he be directed to the kirk and congregation where he should serve, that there, in open audience of his flock, in divers public sermons, he may give confession of his faith in the articles of justification, of the office of christ jesus, of the number, effect, and use of the sacraments; and finally, of the whole religion, which heretofore hath been corrupted by the papists. if his doctrine be found wholesome, and able to instruct the simple, and if the kirk justly can reprehend nothing in his life, doctrine, nor utterance, then we judge the kirk which before was destitute, unreasonable if they refuse him whom the kirk did offer, and that they should be compelled, by the censure of the council and kirk, to receive the person appointed and approven by the judgment of the godly and learned; unless the same kirk have presented a man better or as well qualified to the examination, before this foresaid trial of the person presented by the council of the whole kirk. as, for example, the council of the kirk presents to any kirk a man to be their minister, not knowing that they are otherwise provided: in the meantime, the kirk is provided with another, sufficient in their judgment for that charge, whom they present to the learned ministers and next reformed kirk to be examined. in this case the presentation of the people to whom he should be appointed pastor must be preferred to the presentation of the council or greater kirk; unless the person presented by the inferior kirk be judged unable for the regiment by the learned. for it must be altogether avoided that any man be violently intrused or thrust in upon any congregation. this liberty must be carefully reserved to every several congregation, to have their votes and suffrages in election of their ministers. but we do not call it violent intrusion when the council of the kirk, in the fear of god, and for the salvation of the people, offereth unto them a sufficient man to instruct them; and him they shall not be forced to admit before just examination, as before is said. . _what may disqualify any person for admission to the ministry of the kirk._--it is to be observed that no person noted with public infamy, or being unable to edify the kirk by wholesome doctrine, or being known of corrupt judgment, be either promoted to the regiment of the kirk, or yet received in ecclesiastical administration. by public infamy we understand, not the common sins and offences which any has committed in time of blindness, by frailty (if of the same, by a better and more sober conversation, he hath declared himself verily penitent), but such capital crimes as the civil sword ought and may punish with death, according to the word of god. for, besides that the apostle requireth the life of ministers to be so irreprehensible, that they have a good testimony from those that be without, we judge it a thing unseemly and dangerous, that he shall have public authority to preach to others the life everlasting, from whom the civil magistrate may take the life temporal for a crime publicly committed. and if any object that the prince has pardoned his offence, and that he has publicly repented, and so is not only his life in assurance, but also that he may be received to the ministry of the kirk; we answer that repentance does not take away the temporal punishment of the law, neither doth the pardon of the prince remove his infamy before man. that the life and conversation of the person presented, or to be elected, may be the more clearly known, public edicts must be directed to all parts of this realm, or at the least to those parts where the person hath been most conversant: as where he was nourished in letters, or where he continued after the years of infancy and childhood were passed. strait commandment would be given that if any capital crimes were committed by him they should be notified; as, if he hath committed wilful murder, or adultery, if he were a common fornicator, a thief, a drunkard, a fighter, a brawler, or a contentious person. these edicts ought to be notified in the chief cities, with the like charge and commandment, with declaration that such as concealed his known sins did, so far as in them lay, deceive and betray the kirk, which is the spouse of christ jesus, and did communicate with the sins of that wicked man. . _admission of ministers._--the admission of ministers to their offices, must consist in consent of the people and kirk whereto they shall be appointed, and in approbation of the learned ministers appointed for their examination. we judge it expedient, that the admission of ministers be in open audience; that some especial minister make a sermon touching the duty and office of ministers, touching their manners, conversation, and life, as also touching the obedience which the kirk owe to their ministers. commandment should be given as well to the minister as unto the people, both being present, to wit, that he with all careful diligence attend upon the flock of christ jesus, over which he is appointed preacher; that he will walk in the presence of god so sincerely that the graces of the holy spirit may be multiplied unto him, and in the presence of men so soberly and uprightly that his life may confirm, in the eyes of men, that which by tongue and word he persuadeth unto others. the people would be exhorted to reverence and honour their ministers chosen, as the servants and ambassadors of the lord jesus, obeying the commandments which they pronounce from god's mouth and book, even as they would obey god himself; for whosoever heareth christ's ministers heareth himself, and whosoever rejecteth them, and despiseth their ministry and exhortation, rejecteth and despiseth christ jesus. other ceremony than the public approbation of the people, and declaration of the chief minister that the person there presented is appointed to serve that kirk, we cannot approve; for albeit the apostles used the imposition of hands, yet, seeing the miracle is ceased, the using of the ceremony we judge is not necessary. the minister elected or presented, examined, and, as said is, publicly admitted, must not at his pleasure leave the flock to the which he has promised his fidelity and labours; nor may the flock reject nor change him at their appetite, unless they be able to convict him of such crimes as deserve deposition. the whole kirk, or the most part thereof, for just considerations, may transfer a minister from one kirk to another: nor do we mean that men who now do serve as it were of benevolence may not be appointed and elected to serve in other places; but we cannot approve that once being solemnly elected and admitted they should change at their own pleasure. we are not ignorant that the rarity of godly and learned men shall seem to some a just reason why so strait and sharp examination should not be taken universally, because it shall appear that the most part of the kirks shall have no minister at all. but let these men understand that the lack of able men shall not excuse us before god if, by our consent, unable men be placed over the flock of christ jesus; as also that amongst the gentiles, godly, learned men were as rare as they be now amongst us, when the apostle gave the rule to try and examine ministers which we now follow. let them understand that it is alike to have no minister at all, and to have an idol in the place of a true minister, yea and in some cases it is worse; for those that be utterly destitute of ministers will be diligent to search for them; but those that have a vain shadow do commonly without farther care content themselves with the same, and so remain they continually deceived, thinking that they have a minister, when in very deed they have none. we cannot judge a dispenser of god's mysteries him who in no wise can break the bread of life to the fainting and hungry souls; neither judge we that the sacraments can be rightly ministered by him in whose mouth god has put no sermon of exhortation. the chiefest remedy left to your honours and to us, in all this rarity of true ministers, is fervent prayer unto god, that it will please his mercy to thrust out faithful workmen into this his harvest; and next, that your honours, with the consent of the kirk, are bound by your authority to compel such men as have gifts and graces able to edify the kirk of god, that they bestow them where greatest necessity shall be known; for no man may be permitted to live idle, or as he himself lists, but he must be appointed to travail where your wisdoms and the kirk shall think expedient. we cannot prescribe unto your honours certain rule how that ye shall distribute the ministers and learned men, whom god has already sent unto you. but hereof we are assured, that it greatly hindereth the progress of christ's evangel within this poor realm, that some altogether abstract their labours from the kirk, and others remain together in one place, the most part of them being idle. and therefore of your honours we require in god's name, that by the authority which ye have of god, ye compel all men to whom god has given any talent to persuade by wholesome doctrine, to bestow the same, if they be called by the kirk to the advancement of christ's glory, and to the comfort of his troubled flock; and that ye, with the consent of the kirk, assign unto your chiefest workmen, not only towns to remain in, but also provinces, that by their faithful labours kirks may be erected, and order established, where none is now. if on this manner ye will use your power and authority, chiefly seeking god's glory, and the comfort of your brethren, we doubt not but god shall bless you and your enterprises. . _for readers._--to the kirks where no ministers can be had presently must be appointed the most apt men that distinctly can read the common prayers and the scriptures, to exercise both themselves and the kirk, till they grow to greater perfection; and in process of time he that is but a reader may attain to the further degree, and, by consent of the kirk and discreet ministers, may be permitted to administer the sacraments; but not before he be able somewhat to persuade by wholesome doctrine, besides his reading, and be admitted to the ministry. we know some that of long time have professed christ jesus, whose honest conversation deserved praise of all godly men, and whose knowledge also might greatly help the simple, who yet only content themselves with reading. these must be animated and, by gentle admonition, encouraged by some exhortation to comfort their brethren, and so may be admitted to administration of the sacraments. but such readers as have had neither exercise nor continuance in christ's true religion must abstain from ministration of the sacraments, until they give declaration and witness of their honesty and further knowledge.[ ] [ ] the lords think that none should be admitted to preach unless they are qualified therefor, but rather that they should be retained as readers; and such as are preachers already, not found qualified for that office by the superintendent, should be placed as readers. (_additio._) [here and at sundry other points in the book there are incorporated passages marked "additio," importing emendations made by the lords upon the original document submitted by the compilers. in the present edition these emendations are, in most instances, transferred to footnotes.--ed.] v. concerning provision for the ministers, and for distribution of the rents and possessions justly appertaining to the kirk. seeing that from our master christ jesus and his apostle paul we have it that the workman is worthy of his reward, and that the mouth of the labouring ox ought not to be muzzled, of necessity it is that honest provision be made for the ministers. this we require to be such that they have neither occasion of solicitude nor of insolence and wantonness. and this provision must be made not only for their own sustentation during their lives, but also for their wives and children after them. for we judge it a thing most contrarious to reason, godliness, and equity that the widow and children of him who in his life did faithfully serve the kirk of god, and for that cause did not carefully make provision for his family, should, after his death, be left comfortless of all provision.[ ] [ ] provision for the wives of ministers after their decease to be remitted to the discretion of the kirk. (_additio._) it is difficult to appoint a stipend to every several minister, by reason that the charges and necessity of all will not be alike; for some will be continuers in one place, while some will be compelled to travel and oft to change dwelling-place if they shall have charge of divers kirks. some will be burdened with wife and children, and one with more than another, and some perchance will be single men. if equal stipends be appointed to all those that in charge are so unequal, one would suffer penury, or another would have superfluity and too much. we judge, therefore, that every minister should have sufficient whereupon to keep a house and be sustained honestly in all things necessary, as well for keeping of his house, as clothes, flesh, fish, books, fuel, and other things necessary. provision should be made for this from the rents and treasury of the kirk where he serveth, at the discretion of the congregation, conform to the quality of the person and necessity of the time. it is thought good that every minister should have at least forty bolls meal and twenty-six bolls malt, to find his house in bread and drink, and so much more as the discretion of the kirk finds necessary. he should have, besides, money for buying other provision to his house, and other necessaries, and the modification of this is referred to the judgment of the kirk, to be made every year at the choosing of the elders and deacons of the kirk; providing always that there be advanced to every minister sufficient provision of all things for a quarter of a year beforehand.[ ] [ ] this paragraph was an _additio_ of the lords of the congregation. for those that travel from place to place, whom we call superintendents, who remain a month or less in one place for the establishing of the kirk, and thereafter, for the same purpose, change to another place, further consideration must be had. to each superintendent there should be allowed, we think, six chalders[ ] bear,[ ] nine chalders meal, three chalders oats for his horse, and five hundred marks of money. this shall be eked and pared at the discretion of the prince and council of the realm, and be paid to him yearly. [ ] a measure of about bushels, roughly. [ ] barley. the children of the ministers must have the liberties of the cities next adjacent the place of their father's labours, freely granted. they must have the privileges in schools, and bursaries in colleges; that is, they shall be sustained at learning, if they be found apt thereto, and failing thereof, they shall be put to some handicraft, or exercised in some virtuous industry, whereby they may become profitable members of the commonwealth.[ ] [ ] we require the same for their daughters; to wit, that they be virtuously brought up, and honestly doted when they come to maturity of years, at the discretion of the kirk. (_additio._) in god's presence we bear witness that we require these provisions not so much for ourselves, or for any that to us appertain, as for the increase of virtue and learning, and for the profit of the posterity to come. it is not to be supposed that any man will dedicate himself and his children to god, and so serve his kirk that he will look for no worldly commodity. this cankered nature which we bear is provoked to follow virtue when it seeth honour and profit annexed to the same, as, contrarily, virtue is despised of many when virtuous and godly men live without honour. and, too, we should be sorry that poverty should discourage men from study and from following the way of virtue, whereby they might edify the kirk and flock of christ jesus. we have not spoken of the stipend of readers, because, if they can do nothing but read, they can be neither called nor judged true ministers. and yet regard must be had to their labours; but only that they may be spurred forward to virtue, and not by a stipend appointed for their reading be retained permanently in that estate. for a reader that is lately entered, we think forty marks, more or less, as the parishioners and readers can agree, should be sufficient. he must teach the children of the parish, besides reading the common prayers and the books of the new and old testaments. if from reading he begin to exhort and explain the scriptures, then ought his stipend to be augmented, until, finally, he come to the honour of a minister. but if he be found unable after two years, then must he be removed from office, and discharged of all stipend, in order that another may be proven as long. it is always to be avoided, that any reader who is judged unable to come at any time to some reasonable knowledge, whereby he may edify the kirk, shall perpetually be nourished upon the charge of the kirk. further, it must be avoided that any child, or person within twenty-one years of age, be admitted to the office of a reader. readers ought to be endowed with gravity, wit, and discretion, lest by their lightness the prayers or scriptures read be of less price and estimation. the readers shall be put in by the kirk, and admitted by the superintendent. for the other sort of readers who have long continued in godliness, have some gift of exhortation, are in hope to attain to the degree of a minister, and teach the children, we think a hundred marks, or more at the discretion of the kirk, may be appointed; difference being made betwixt them and the ministers that openly preach the word and minister the sacraments. there still remain other two sorts of people to be provided for, from that which is called the patrimony of the kirk, to wit, the poor and the teachers of youth. every several kirk must provide for the poor within itself; for fearful and horrible it is that the poor (whom not only god the father in his law, but christ jesus in his evangel, and the holy spirit speaking by st. paul, have so earnestly commended to our care) are universally so contemned and despised. we are not patrons for stubborn and idle beggars, who, running from place to place, make a craft of their begging. them the civil magistrate ought to punish; but god commandeth his people to be careful for the widow and fatherless, the aged, impotent, or lamed, who neither can nor may travail for their sustentation. for these latter, as also for persons of honesty fallen into decay and penury, such provision ought to be made, that of our abundance should their indigence be relieved. how, most conveniently and most easily, this may be done in every city, and in other parts of this realm, god shall show you wisdom and the means, if your minds shall godly thereto be inclined. all must not be suffered to beg that gladly so would do; neither yet must beggars remain where they choose; but the stout and strong beggar must be compelled to work, and every person that may not work must be compelled to repair to the place where he or she was born (unless of long continuance he or she have remained in one place), and there reasonable provision must be made, as the church shall appoint. the order nor sums, in our judgment, cannot be particularly appointed, until such time as the poor of every city, town, or parish be compelled to repair to the places where they were born, or to the place of their residence. there their names and number must be taken and put in roll; and then may the wisdom of the kirk appoint stipends accordingly. vi. of the superintendents.[ ] [ ] the sections are numbered in this edition as in the edition of . originally the book of discipline had nine "heads" with sundry sub-headings, numbered in some cases and not in others. the numbering coincides up to this point.--ed. . because we have appointed a larger stipend to these that shall be superintendents than to the rest of the ministers, we have thought good to signify such reasons as moved us to make difference betwixt preachers at this time; as also how many superintendents we think necessary, with their bounds, office, the manner of their election, and causes that may deserve deposition from that charge. we consider that, if the ministers whom god hath endowed with his singular graces amongst us should be appointed to several and certain places, there to make their continual residence, the greatest part of this realm should be destitute of all doctrine. this would not only give occasion for great murmuring, but would be dangerous to the salvation of many. therefore we have thought it a thing most expedient for this time that, from the whole number of godly and learned men now presently in this realm, there be selected twelve or ten (for into so many provinces have we divided the whole) to whom charge and commandment shall be given to plant and erect churches, and to set order and appoint ministers, as the former order prescribeth, to the districts that shall be appointed to their care, where none are now. by these means your love and common care over all the inhabitants of this realm, to whom ye are equal debtors, shall evidently appear; and the simple and ignorant, who perchance have never heard jesus christ truly preached, shall come to some knowledge. many that now be dead in superstition and ignorance shall attain to some feeling of godliness, and may be provoked to search and seek further knowledge of god, and of his true religion and worshipping. on the contrary, if they be neglected, they shall not only grudge, but also they shall seek the means whereby they may continue in their blindness, or return to their accustomed idolatry. therefore nothing desire we more earnestly than that christ jesus be universally once preached throughout this realm; and this shall not suddenly be, unless men be appointed and compelled faithfully to travel in such provinces as to them shall be assigned. . _the names of the places of residence, and several dioceses of the superintendents._--( ) the superintendent of orkney; whose diocese shall be the isles of orkney, shetland, caithness, and strathnaver. his residence to be in the town of kirkwall. ( ) the superintendent of ross; whose diocese shall comprehend ross, sutherland, moray, with the north isles of skye, and the lewis, with their adjacents. his residence to be in chanonry of ross. ( ) the superintendent of argyll; whose diocese shall comprehend argyll, kintyre, lorne, the south isles, arran, and bute, with their adjacents, with lochaber. his residence to be in argyll. ( ) the superintendent of aberdeen; whose diocese is betwixt dee and spey, containing the sheriffdom of aberdeen and banff. his residence to be in old aberdeen. ( ) the superintendent of brechin; whose diocese shall be the whole sheriffdoms of mearns and angus, and the brae of mar to dee. his residence to be in brechin. ( ) the superintendent of st. andrews; whose diocese shall comprehend the whole sheriffdom of fife and fotheringham to stirling; and the whole sheriffdom of perth. his residence to be in st. andrews. ( ) the superintendent of edinburgh; whose diocese shall comprehend the whole sheriffdoms of lothian, and stirling on the south side of the water of forth; and thereto is added, by consent of the whole church, merse, lauderdale, and wedale.[ ] his residence to be in edinburgh. [ ] the tract of country drained by the gala water and caden water. it comprised an ecclesiastical district in the unreformed church, and subsequently a parish, of which the town of stow formed the central point.--ed. ( ) the superintendent of jedburgh; whose diocese shall comprehend teviotdale, tweeddale, liddesdale, with the forest of ettrick. his residence to be jedburgh. ( ) the superintendent of glasgow; whose diocese shall comprehend clydesdale, renfrew, monteith, lennox, kyle, and cunningham. his residence to be in glasgow. ( ) the superintendent of dumfries; whose diocese shall comprehend galloway, carrick, nithsdale, annandale, with the rest of the dales in the west. his residence to be in dumfries. those men must not be suffered to live as your idle bishops have done heretofore; neither must they remain where gladly they would. they must be preachers themselves, and such as may make no long residence in any one place, until their churches be planted and provided with ministers, or at the least with readers. charge must be given to them that they remain in no one place above twenty or thirty days in their visitation, until they have passed through their whole bounds. they must preach thrice every week, at the least; and when they return to their principal town and residence they must be likewise exercised in preaching and in edification of the church there; and yet they must not be suffered to continue there so long, as that they seem to neglect their other churches. after they have remained in their chief town three or four months at most, they shall be compelled, unless by sickness they be detained, to re-enter upon visitation. they shall not only preach, but also shall examine the life, diligence, and behaviour of the ministers, the order of their churches, and the manners of the people. they must further consider how the poor are provided for, and how the youth are instructed; they must admonish where admonition is needed, restore order where by good counsel they are able to appease; and, finally, they must note such crimes as are heinous, that by the censure of the church the same may be corrected. if the superintendent be found negligent in any of these chief points of his office, and especially if he be noted negligent in preaching of the word, and in visitation of his churches; or if he be convicted of any of those crimes which in the common ministers are condemned, he must be deposed, without respect to his person or office. . _of the election of superintendents._--in this present necessity, the nomination, examination, and admission of superintendents cannot be so strait as we require, and as afterwards it must be. for the present, therefore, we think sufficient that either your honours, by yourselves, nominate so many as may serve the forewritten provinces; or that ye give commission to men in whom ye suppose the fear of god to be, to do the same; these men, being called into your presence, shall be by you, and by such as your honours may please to call unto you for consultation in that case, appointed to their provinces. we think it expedient and necessary, that the gentlemen, as well as the burgesses of every diocese, be made privy at the same time to the election of the superintendent, both to bring the church into some practice of her liberty, and to make the pastor better favoured of the flock whom themselves have chosen. if your honours cannot find for the present so many able men as the necessity requireth, then, on our judgments, it is more profitable that those provinces remain vacant until god provide better, rather than that men unable to edify and govern the church be suddenly placed in that charge. for experience hath taught us what pestilence hath been engendered in the church by men unable to discharge their offices. when, therefore, after three years, any superintendent shall depart, or chance to be deposed, the chief town within that province, to wit, the ministers, elders, and deacons, with the magistrate and council of the same town, shall nominate, and by public edicts proclaim, as well to the superintendent, as to two or three provinces next adjacent, two or three of the most learned and most godly ministers within the whole realm, that from amongst them, one with public consent may be elected and appointed to the office then vacant. the chief town shall be bound to do this within the term of twenty days. if this period expire and no man be presented, then shall three of the next adjacent provinces, with consent of their superintendents, ministers, and elders, enter into the right and privileges of the chief town, and shall present every one of them one, or two if they list, to the chief town, to be examined as the order requireth. it shall also be lawful for all the churches of the diocese to nominate within the same time such persons as they think worthy to stand in election; and this must be put in edict. after the nominations are made, public edicts must be sent, first warning all men that have any objection against the persons nominated, or against any one of them, to be present in the chief town at day and place appointed, to object what they can against the election. thirty days we think sufficient to be assigned thereto; thirty days, we mean, after the nomination shall be made. the day of election being come, the whole ministers of that province, with three or more of the superintendents next adjacent, or thereto named, shall examine not only the learning, but also the manners, prudence, and ability to govern the church, of all those that are nominated; that he who shall be found most worthy may be burdened with the charge. if the ministers of the whole province should bring with them the votes of those that were committed to their care, the election should be the more free; but, always, the votes of all those that convene must be required. the examinations must be publicly made; those that stand in election must publicly preach; and men must be charged in the name of god, to vote according to conscience, and not after affection. if anything be objected against any that stand in election, the superintendents and ministers must consider whether the objection be made of conscience or of malice, and they must answer accordingly. other ceremonies than sharp examination, approbation of the ministers and superintendents, with the public consent of the elders and people then present, we cannot allow. the superintendent being elected, and appointed to his charge, must be subjected to the censure and correction of the ministers and elders, not only of his chief town, but also of the whole province over which he is appointed overseer. if his offences be known, and the ministers and elders of his province be negligent in correcting him, the next one or two superintendents, with their ministers and elders, may convene him, and the ministers and elders of his chief town, within his own province or chief town; and they may accuse and correct the superintendent in those things that are worthy of correction, as well as the ministers and elders for their negligence and their ungodly tolerance of his offences. whatsoever crime deserves correction or deposition of any other minister deserveth the same in the superintendent, without respect of person. after the church is established, and three years be passed, we require that no man be called to the office of a superintendent, who hath not for two years at least, given declaration of his faithful labours in the ministry of some church. no superintendent may be transferred at the pleasure or request of any one province without the consent of the whole council of the church, and that only for grave causes and considerations. of one thing, in the end, we must admonish your honours. in appointing superintendents for the present, ye may not disappoint your chief towns, and places where learning is exercised, of such ministers, as more may profit by residence in one place than by continual travel from place to place. for if ye so do, the youth in those places shall lack the profound interpretation of the scriptures; and so shall it be long before your gardens send forth many plants. on the contrary, if one or two towns be continually exercised as they may, the commonwealth shall shortly taste of their fruit, to the comfort of the godly. vii. of schools and universities. as the office and duty of the godly magistrate is not only to purge the church of god from all superstition, and to set it at liberty from bondage of tyrants, but also to provide, to the uttermost of his power, that it may abide in the same purity to the posterities following, we cannot but freely communicate our judgments to your honours in this behalf. . _the necessity of schools._--seeing that god hath determined that his church here on earth shall be taught not by angels but by men; and seeing that men are born ignorant of all godliness; and seeing, also, how god ceaseth to illuminate men miraculously, suddenly changing them, as he changed his apostles and others in the primitive church: it is necessary that your honours be most careful for the virtuous education and godly upbringing of the youth of this realm, if ye now thirst unfeignedly for the advancement of christ's glory, or desire the continuance of his benefits to the generation following. for as the youth must succeed to us, so ought we to be careful that they have knowledge and erudition, for the profit and comfort of that which ought to be most dear to us, to wit, the church and spouse of the lord jesus. therefore we judge it necessary that every several church have a schoolmaster appointed, such an one as is able, at least, to teach grammar and the latin tongue, if the town be of any reputation. if it be upaland,[ ] where the people convene to doctrine but once in the week, then must either the reader or the minister there take care of the children and youth of the parish, instructing them in their first rudiments, and especially in the catechism, as we have it now translated in the book of our common order, called the order of geneva. and, farther, we think it expedient that in every notable town, and especially in the town of the superintendent, there be erected a college, in which the arts, at least logic and rhetoric, together with the tongues, shall be read by sufficient masters. for these honest stipends must be appointed; and provision must be made for those that are poor, and are not able by themselves, nor by their friends, to be sustained at letters, especially such as come from landward. [ ] at a distance from the sea; in the country. the fruit and commodity hereof shall speedily appear. for, first, the youths and tender children shall be nourished and brought up in virtue, in presence of their friends; by whose good care may be avoided those many inconveniences into which youth commonly falls, either by too much liberty, which they have in strange and unknown places while they cannot rule themselves; or else for lack of good care, and of such necessities as their tender age requireth. secondarily, the exercise of the children in every church shall be great instruction to the aged. lastly, the great schools, called universities, shall be replenished with those that are apt to learn; for this must be carefully provided, that no father, of what estate or condition that ever he be, use his children at his own fantasy, especially in their youth. all must be compelled to bring up their children in learning and virtue. the rich and potent may not be permitted to suffer their children to spend their youth in vain idleness, as heretofore they have done. they must be exhorted, and by the censure of the church compelled to dedicate their sons, by good exercise, to the profit of the church and to the commonwealth; and this they must do at their own expense, because they are able. the children of the poor must be supported and sustained as the charge of the church, until trial be taken whether the spirit of docility be found in them or not. if they be found apt to letters and learning, then may they not (we mean, neither the sons of the rich, nor yet the sons of the poor) be permitted to reject learning. they must be charged to continue their study, so that the commonwealth may have some comfort by them. for this purpose must discreet, learned, and grave men be appointed to visit all schools for the trial of their exercise, profit, and continuance; to wit, the ministers and elders, with the best learned in every town, shall every quarter take examination how the youth have profited. a certain time must be appointed to reading, and to learning of the catechism; a certain time to grammar, and to the latin tongue; a certain time to the arts, philosophy, and to the other tongues; and a certain time to that study in which they intend chiefly to travail for the profit of the commonwealth. this time being expired, we mean in every course, the children must either proceed to farther knowledge, or else they must be sent to some handicraft, or to some other profitable exercise. care must always be taken that first they have the form of knowledge of christian religion, to wit, the knowledge of god's law and commandments; the use and office of the same; the chief articles of our belief; the right form to pray unto god; the number, use, and effect of the sacraments; the true knowledge of christ jesus, of his office and natures, and such others. without this knowledge, neither deserveth any man to be named a christian, nor ought any to be admitted to the participation of the lord's table; and, therefore, these principles ought to be taught and must be learned in youth. . _the times appointed to every course._--two years we think more than sufficient to learn to read perfectly, to answer to the catechism, and to have some entrance to the first rudiments of grammar. for the full accomplishment of the grammar, we think other three or four years, at most, sufficient. for the arts, to wit, logic and rhetoric, and for the greek tongue, we allow four years. the rest of youth, until the age of twenty-four years, should be spent in that study wherein the learner would profit the church or commonwealth, be it in the laws or physic or divinity. after twenty-four years have been spent in the schools, the learner must be removed to serve the church or commonwealth, unless he be found a necessary reader in the same college or university. if god shall move your hearts to establish and execute this order, and put these things into practice, your whole realm, we doubt not, within few years, shall serve itself with true preachers and other officers necessary for your commonwealth. . _the erection of universities._--the grammar schools and schools of the tongues being erected as we have said, next we think it necessary that there be three universities in this whole realm, established in the towns accustomed: the first in st. andrews, the second in glasgow, and the third in aberdeen. in the first university and principal, which is st. andrews, there be three colleges. and in the first college, which is the entrance of the university, there be four classes or sessions: the first, to the new supposts,[ ] shall be only dialectic; the next, only mathematics; the third, of physic only; the fourth, of medicine. and in the second college, two classes or sessions: the first, in moral philosophy; the second, in the laws. and in the third college, two classes or sessions: the first, in the tongues, to wit, greek and hebrew; the second, in divinity. [ ] scholars; undergraduates. . _of readers, and of the degrees, of time, and study._--in the first college, and in the first class, shall be a reader[ ] of dialectic, who shall accomplish his course thereof in one year. in the mathematic, which is the second class, shall be a reader who shall complete his course of arithmetic, geometry, cosmography, and astrology in one year. in the third class, shall be a reader of natural philosophy, who shall complete his course in a year. and he who, after these three years, by trial and examination, shall be found sufficiently instructed in these aforesaid sciences, shall be laureate and graduate in philosophy. in the fourth class, shall be a reader of medicine, who shall complete his course in five years. after the study for this time, he who is by examination found sufficient, shall be graduate in medicine. [ ] tutor. in the second college, in the first class, there shall be one reader only in the ethics, economics, and politics, who shall complete his course in the space of one year. in the second class, shall be two readers in the municipal and roman laws, who shall complete their courses in four years. after this time, those who by examination are found sufficient, shall be graduate in the laws. in the third college, in the first class, there shall be a reader of the hebrew, and another of the greek tongue, who shall complete the grammars thereof in half a year, and for the remnant of the year, the reader of the hebrew shall interpret a book of moses, the prophets or the psalms; so that his course and class shall continue a year. the reader of the greek shall interpret some book of plato, together with some place of the new testament. and in the second class, there shall be two readers in divinity, one in the new testament, the other in the old. these shall complete their course in five years. after this time, those shall be graduate in divinity who shall be found by examination sufficient. we think it expedient that no one be admitted unto the first college, and to be suppost of the university, unless he have from the master of the school, and from the minister of the town where he was instructed in the tongues, a testimonial of his learning, docility,[ ] age, and parentage. likewise, trial shall be taken by certain examiners, deputed by the rector and principals, and if he be found sufficiently instructed in dialectic, he shall forthwith, that same year, be promoted to the class of mathematic. none shall be admitted to the class of medicine but he that shall have his testimonial of his time well spent in dialectic, mathematic, and physic, and of his docility[ ] in the last. [ ] capacity for receiving instruction. none shall be admitted to the class of the laws but he that shall have sufficient testimonials of his time well spent in dialectic, mathematic, physic, ethic, economics, and politics, and of his docility in the last. none shall be admitted unto the class and session of divinity but he that shall have sufficient testimonials of his time well spent in dialectic, mathematic, physic, ethic, economic, moral philosophy, and the hebrew tongue, and of his docility in moral philosophy and the hebrew tongue. but neither shall such as will apply them to hear the laws be compelled to hear medicine; nor such as apply them to hear divinity be compelled to hear either medicine or the laws. in the second university, which is glasgow, there shall be two colleges only. in the first shall be a class of dialectic, another in mathematic, the third in physic, ordered in all sorts as st. andrews. in the second college there shall be four classes: the first in moral philosophy, ethics, economics, and politics; the second, of the municipal and roman law; the third, of the hebrew tongue; the fourth, in divinity. these shall be ordered in all sorts, as we have written in the order of the university of st. andrews. the third university of aberdeen shall be conform to this university of glasgow, in all sorts. we think it needful that there be chosen from the body of the university a principal for every college--a man of learning, discretion, and diligence. he shall receive the whole rents of the college, and distribute the same according to the erection of the college, and shall daily hearken the diet accounts, adjoining to him weekly one of the readers or regents. in the oversight of the readers and regents he shall watch over their diligence, in their reading, as well as their exercitation of the youth in the matter taught. he shall have charge of the policy and uphold of the place; and for punishment of crimes, shall hold a weekly convention with the whole members of the college. he shall be accountable yearly to the superintendent, rector, and rest of the principals convened, about the first of november. his election shall be in this sort. there shall be three of the most sufficient men of the university, not principals already, nominated by the members of the college (sworn to follow their consciences) whose principal is departed, and publicly proponed through the whole university. after eight days the superintendent, by himself or his special procurator, with the rector and rest of the principals, as a chapter convened, shall confirm that one of the three whom they think most sufficient, being before sworn to do the same with single eye, without respect to fee or favour. in every college, we think needful at the least one steward, one cook, one gardener, and one porter. these shall be subject to discipline of the principal, as the rest. every university shall have a beadle subject to serve at all times throughout the whole university, as the rector and principals shall command. every university shall have a rector, chosen from year to year as follows. the principals being convened with the whole regents in chapter, shall be sworn that every man in his room shall nominate such one as his conscience shall testify to be most sufficient to bear such charge and dignity; and three of them that shall be of test nominated shall be put in edict publicly, fifteen days before michaelmas. on michaelmas even shall be convened the whole principals, regents, and supposts that are graduate, or have at least studied their time in ethics, economics, and politics, and no others younger; and every nation,[ ] first protesting in god's presence to follow the sincere dictate of their consciences, shall nominate one of the said three. he that has most votes shall be confirmed by the superintendent and principal, and his duty with an exhortation shall be proponed unto him. this shall be done on the twenty-eighth day of september; and thereafter oaths shall be taken, _hinc inde_, for his just and godly government, and of the remnant's lawful submission and obedience. at his entrance to the university he shall be propyned with a new garment, bearing _insignia magistratus_; and he shall be bound to visit every college monthly, and with his presence to decorate and examine the lections and exercitation thereof. his assessors shall be a lawyer and a theologian, with whose advice he shall decide all civil questions betwixt the members of the university. if any one outside the university shall pursue a member thereof, or be pursued by a member of the same, the rector shall assist the provost and bailies, or other judges competent, to see that justice be ministered in these cases. likewise, if any of the university be criminally pursued, he shall assist the judges competent, and see that justice be ministered. [ ] classification of students according to birthplace. we think it expedient, that in every college, in each university, there be twenty-four bursars, divided equally in all the classes and sessions, as is above expressed: that is, in st. andrews, seventy-two bursars; in glasgow, forty-eight bursars; in aberdeen, forty-eight; to be sustained only in meat upon the charges of the college; and be admitted at the examination of the ministry and chapter of principals in the university, as well in docility of the persons offered, as of the ability of their parents to sustain them themselves, and not to burden the commonwealth with them. . _of stipends and expenses necessary._--we think expedient that the universities be doted with temporal lands, with rents, and revenues of the bishoprics' temporality, and of the collegiate kirks, as far as their ordinary charges shall require; and therefore, we crave that it would please your honours, by advice of your honours' council and vote of parliament, to do the same. and that the same may be shortly expedite, we have recollected the sums we think necessary for the same. ( ) for the ordinary stipend of the dialectitian reader, the mathematician, physician, and reader in moral philosophy, we think sufficient a hundred pounds for every one of them. ( ) for the stipend of every reader in medicine and laws, a hundred and thirty-three pounds, six shillings and eight pence. ( ) to every reader in hebrew, greek, and divinity, two hundred pounds. ( ) to every principal of a college, ij lb. ( ) to every steward, sixteen pounds of fee. ( ) to every gardener, to every cook, and to every porter, each, ten marks. ( ) to the board of every bursar, other than those in the classes of theology and medicine, twenty pounds. ( ) to every bursar in the class of theology, which will be only twelve persons in st. andrews, lib. the sum of yearly and ordinary expenses in the university of st. andrews, extends to lib. the sum of yearly and ordinary expenses of glasgow " aberdeen, the same " ---------- the sum of the ordinary charges of the whole lib. ---------- the beadle's stipend shall be of every entrant and suppost of the university, two shillings; of every one graduate in philosophy, three shillings; of every one graduate in medicine or laws, four shillings; in theology, five shillings; all bursars being excepted. we have thought good that, for building and upkeep of the places, a general collection be made; and that every earl's son, at his entrance to the university, shall give forty shillings, and suchlike at every graduation, forty shillings; every lord's son suchlike at each time, thirty shillings; each freeholding baron's son, twenty shillings; every feuar and substantial gentleman's son, one mark; every substantial husbandman's or burgess's son, at each time, ten shillings; every one of the rest, excepting the bursars, five shillings at each time. we recommend that this collection be gathered in a common box, put in keeping of the principal of the theologians, every principal having a key thereof. the contents should be counted each year once, with the relicts of the principals to be laid into the same, about the fifteenth day of november, in presence of the superintendent, rector, and the whole principals. at their whole consent, or at least the most part thereof, the sums collected should be reserved and employed only upon the building and upkeep of the places, and repairing of the same, as ever necessity shall require. for this end, the rector with his assistants shall be obliged to visit the places each year once, immediately after he is promoted, upon the last of october, or thereby. . _of the privilege of the university._--we desire that innocency should defend us rather than privilege, and we think that each person of the university should be answerable, before the provost and bailies of each town where the universities are, for all crimes whereof they are accused, only that the rector be assessor to them in the said actions. in civil matters, if the question on both sides be betwixt members of the university, making their residence and exercitation therein for the time, the party called shall not be obliged to answer, otherwise than before the rector and his assessors. in all other cases of civil pursuit, the general rule of the law shall be observed, _actor sequitur forum rei_, etc. the rector and all inferior members of the university shall be exempted from all taxations, imposts, charges of war, or any other charge that may onerate or abstract him or them from the duties of their office--such as tutory, curatory, deaconry, or any suchlike, that are established, or hereafter shall be established in our commonwealth. in this manner, without trouble, this one may wait upon the upbringing of the youth in learning, that other bestow his time only in that most necessary exercition.[ ] [ ] bodily exercise; military exercise.--_jamieson._ all other things, touching the books to be read in each class and all such particular affairs, we refer to the discretion of the masters, principals, and regents, with their well advised councils; not doubting but that, if god shall grant quietness and give your wisdoms grace to set forward letters in the sort prescribed, ye shall leave wisdom and learning to your posterity, a treasure more to be esteemed than any earthly treasure ye are able to provide for them. these, without wisdom, are more able to be their ruin and confusion, than help or comfort. and as this is most true, we leave it with the rest of the commodities to be weighed by your honours' wisdom, and set forward by your authority for the most high advancement of this commonwealth, committed to your charge. viii. of the rents and patrimony of the kirk. the ministers and the poor, together with the schools, when order shall be taken thereanent, must be sustained upon the charges of the church. provision must therefore be made, how and from whom the necessary sums must be lifted. but, before we enter upon this head, we must crave of your honours, in the name of the eternal god and of his son, christ jesus, that ye have respect to your poor brethren, the labourers and manurers of the ground. these have been so oppressed by these cruel beasts, the papists, that their lives have been dolorous and bitter. if ye will have god author and approver of your reformation, ye must not follow their footsteps. ye must have compassion upon your brethren, appointing them to pay reasonable teinds, that they may feel some benefit of christ jesus, now preached unto them. with grief of heart we hear that some gentlemen are now as cruel over their tenants as ever were the papists, requiring of them whatsoever before they paid to the church; so that the papistical tyranny is only like to be changed to the tyranny of the lord or of the laird. we dare not flatter your honours, neither yet is it profitable for you that so we do: if you permit such cruelty to be used, neither shall ye, who by your authority ought to gainstand such oppression, nor shall they that use the same, escape god's heavy and fearful judgments. the gentlemen, barons, earls, lords, and others, must be content to live upon their just rents, and suffer the church to be restored to her liberty, that, in her restitution, the poor, who heretofore by the cruel papists have been spoiled and oppressed, may now receive some comfort and relaxation.[ ] [ ] concluded by the lords: that these teinds and other exactions be clean discharged, and never be taken in time coming, such as the uppermost cloth, the corps-present, the clerk-mail, the easter offerings, teind ale, and all handlings upaland can neither be required nor received of godly conscience. (_additio._) nor do we judge it to proceed from justice that one man shall possess the teinds of another; but we think it a thing most reasonable that every man have the use of his own teinds, provided that he be answerable to the deacons and treasurers of the church for that which justly shall be appointed unto him. we require deacons and treasurers to receive the rents rather than the ministers themselves; because not only the ministers, but also the poor and schools must be sustained from the teinds. we think it most expedient, therefore, that common treasurers, to wit, the deacons, be appointed from year to year, to receive the whole rents appertaining to the church; and that commandment be given that no man be permitted either to receive, or yet to intromit with anything appertaining to the sustentation of the persons foresaid, but such as by common consent of the church are thereto appointed. if any think this prejudicial to the tacks and assedations[ ] of those that now possess the teinds, let them understand that an unjust possession is no possession before god. those of whom they received their title and presupposed right were and are thieves and murderers, and had no power so to alienate the patrimony and common good of the church. and yet we are not so extreme, but that we wish just recompense to be made to such as have disbursed sums of money to those unjust possessors, so that it has not been so disbursed of late days to the prejudice of the church. such alienations as are found and known to be made by plain collusion ought in nowise to be sustained by you. for that purpose, we think it most expedient that whosoever have assedation of teinds or churches be openly warned to produce their assedation and assurance, that, cognition[ ] being taken, the just tacksman may have a just and reasonable recompense for the years that are to run, the profit of the years passed being considered and deducted; and that the unjust and surmised may be served accordingly. thus the church, in the end, may recover her liberty and freedom, and that only for relief of the poor. [ ] leases. [ ] evidence. your honours may easily understand that we speak not now for ourselves, but in favour of the poor and the labourers defrauded and oppressed by the priests and by their confederate pensioners. for, while the priests' pensioner's idle belly has been delicately fed, the poor, to whom a portion of that appertains, have pined with hunger. moreover, the true labourers were compelled to pay that which they ought not: for the labourer is neither debtor to the dumb dog called the bishop, nor yet unto his hired pensioner; but is debtor only unto the church. and the church is only bound to sustain and nourish at her charges the persons before mentioned, to wit, the ministers of the word, the poor, and the teachers of the youth. but now to return to the former head. the sums able to sustain these forenamed persons, and to furnish all things appertaining to the preservation of good order and policy within the church, must be lifted from the teinds, to wit, the teind sheaf, teind hay, teind hemp, teind lint, teind fishes, teind calf, teind foal, teind lamb, teind wool, teind cheese, etc. and, because that we know that the tithes reasonably taken, as is before expressed, will not suffice to discharge the former necessity, we think that all things doted to hospitality, all annual rents, both in burgh and land, pertaining to priests, chantery,[ ] colleges, chaplainries, and to friars of all orders, to the sisters of the sciennes, and to all others of that order, and such others within this realm, should be received still to the use of the church or churches within the towns or parishes where they were doted. furthermore, there should be appropriated for the upholding of the universities and sustentation of the superintendents, the whole revenue of the temporality of the bishops', deans', and archdeacons' lands, and all rents of lands pertaining to the cathedral churches whatsoever. besides, merchants and rich craftsmen in free burghs, who have nothing to do with the manuring of the ground, must make some provision in their cities, towns, or dwelling-places to support the need of the church. [ ] chanters were laics endowed with ecclesiastical benefices. to the ministers, and failing these the readers, must be restored their manses and their glebes; otherwise they cannot serve their flock at all times as their duty is. if any glebe exceed six acres of land, the rest shall remain in the possessor's hands until order be taken therein.[ ] [ ] the lords condescend that the manse and yards be restored to the ministers. and all the lords consent that the ministers have six acres of land, except marischall, morton, glencairn, and cassillis, where manses are of great quantity. (_additio._) the receivers and collectors of these rents and duties must be the deacons or treasurers appointed from year to year in every church, by common consent and free election of the church. the deacons may distribute no part of that which is collected, but by commandment of the ministers and elders; and they may command nothing to be delivered, but as the church before hath determined; and the deacons shall pay the sums, either quarterly, or from half year to half year, to the ministers which the kirk hath appointed. the same they shall do to the schoolmasters, readers, and hospitals, if any be, always receiving acquittances for their discharge. if any extraordinary sums fall to be delivered, then must the ministers, elders, and deacons consult whether the deliverance of these sums doth stand with the common utility of the church or not; and if they do universally agree and condescend either upon the affirmative or the negative, then, because they are in credit and office for the year, they may do as best seemeth unto them. but if there be controversy amongst themselves, the whole church must be made privy; and after the matter has been exponed and the reasons heard, the judgment of the church, with the ministers' consent, shall prevail. the deacons shall be bound and compelled to make accounts to the ministers and elders of that which they have received, as oft as the policy shall appoint; and the elders when they are changed, which must be every year, must clear their accounts before such auditors as the church shall appoint. when the deacons and elders are changed, they shall deliver to them that shall then be elected, all sums of money, corns, and other profits remaining in their hands. the tickets for these must be delivered to the superintendents in their visitation, and by them to the great council of the church, that the abundance as well as the indigence of every church may be evidently known, and that a reasonable equality may be had throughout the whole realm. if this order be precisely kept, corruption cannot suddenly enter. the free and yearly election of deacons and elders will not suffer any one to usurp a perpetual dominion over the church; the knowledge of the rental shall suffice them to receive no more than whereof they shall be bound to make accounts; and the deliverance of the money to the new officers shall not suffer private men to use in their private business that which appertaineth to the public affairs of the church. ix. of ecclesiastical discipline. . as no commonwealth can flourish or long endure without good laws, and sharp execution of the same; so neither can the church of god be brought to purity, nor be retained in the same, without the order of ecclesiastical discipline. this is required for reproving and correcting these faults which the civil sword doth either neglect or may not punish. blasphemy, adultery, murder, perjury, and other capital crimes, worthy of death ought not properly to fall under censure of the church; because all such open transgressors of god's laws ought to be taken away by the civil sword. but drunkenness, excess (be it in apparel, or be it in eating and drinking), fornication, oppression of the poor by exactions, deceiving of them in buying or selling by wrong mete or measure, wanton words and licentious living tending to slander, do properly appertain to the church of god, to punish as god's word commandeth. but, because this accursed papistry hath brought such confusion into the world that neither was virtue rightly praised nor vice severely punished, the church of god is compelled to draw the sword, which of god she has received, against such open and manifest offenders, cursing and excommunicating all such (as well those whom the civil sword ought to punish as the others) from all participation with her in prayers and sacraments, until open repentance manifestly appear in them. as the order of excommunication and proceeding to the same ought to be grave and slow, so, being once pronounced against any person of what estate and condition that ever he be, it must be kept with all severity. for laws made and not kept engender contempt of virtue, and bring in confusion and liberty to sin. therefore we think this order expedient to be observed before and after excommunication. if the offence be secret and known to few, and rather stands in suspicion than in manifest proof, the offender ought to be privately admonished to abstain from all appearance of evil. if he promises to do this, and to declare himself sober, honest, and one that feareth god, and feareth to offend his brethren, then may the secret admonition suffice for his correction. but if he either contemns the admonition, or, after promise made, do show himself no more circumspect than he was before, then must the minister admonish him; to whom if he be found inobedient, the church must proceed according to the rule of christ, as after shall be declared. if the crime be public and such as is heinous, as fornication, drunkenness, fighting, common swearing, or execration, then ought the offender to be called into the presence of the minister, elders, deacons, where his sin and offence ought to be declared and aggravated,[ ] so that his conscience may feel how far he hath offended god, and what slander he hath raised in the church. if signs of unfeigned repentance appear in him, and if he require to be admitted to public repentance, the ministry may appoint unto him a day when the whole church conveneth together, that, in presence of all, he may testify the repentance which before them he professed. if he accept, and with reverence make testimony, confessing his sin, condemning the same, and earnestly desiring the congregation to pray to god with him for mercy, and to accept him into their society, notwithstanding his former offence, the church may and ought to receive him as a penitent. for the church ought to be no more severe than god declareth himself to be, who witnesseth that, in whatsoever hour a sinner unfeignedly repenteth, and turns from his wicked way, he will not remember one of his iniquities; and the church ought diligently to avoid excommunicating those whom god absolveth. [ ] their enormity emphasised. if the offender, called before the ministry, be found stubborn, hard-hearted, or one in whom no sign of repentance appeareth, then must he be dismissed with an exhortation to consider the dangerous estate in which he stands; with the assurance that, if the ministry find in him no other token of amendment of life, they will be compelled to seek a further remedy. if he within a certain space show his repentance, they must present him to the church as before is said. but if he continue in his impenitence, then must the church be admonished that such crimes are committed amongst them, and that these have been reprehended by the ministry, and the persons provoked to repent; also, because no sign of repentance appeareth unto them, that they could not but signify unto the church the crimes, but not the person, requiring them earnestly to call to god to move and touch the heart of the offender, so that suddenly and earnestly he may repent. if the person malign, then, on the next day of public assembly, the crime and the person must be both notified unto the church, and their judgment must be required, if that such crimes ought to be suffered unpunished amongst them. request also would be made to the most discreet and to the nearest friends of the offender to travail with him to bring him to knowledge of himself, and of his dangerous estate, and a commandment be given to all men to call to god for the conversion of the impenitent. if a solemn and a special prayer were made and drawn for that purpose, the thing should be the more gravely done. on the third sunday, the minister ought to inquire if the impenitent have declared any signs of repentance to any of the ministry. if he hath, the minister may appoint him to be examined by the whole ministry; either then, instantly, or at another day affixed to the consistory.[ ] should the guilty person's repentance appear, as well of the crime as of his long contempt, then may he be presented to the church, and make his confession, and be accepted as before is said. but if no man bear witness to his repentance, then ought he to be excommunicated; and, by the mouth of the minister, consent of the ministry, and commandment of the church, such a contemner must be pronounced excommunicate from god and from the society of his church. [ ] appointed diet of the church court. after this sentence no person, his wife and family only excepted, may have any kind of conversation with him who is excommunicate; be it in eating and drinking, buying or selling, yea, in saluting or talking with him, except that it be at the commandment or with licence of the ministry, for his conversion; that he by such means confounded, seeing himself abhorred by the faithful and godly, may have occasion to repent and so be saved. the sentence of his excommunication must be published universally throughout the realm, lest any man should pretend ignorance. his children, begotten or born after that sentence and before his repentance, may not be admitted to baptism until either they be of age to require the same, or else the mother, or some of his especial friends, members of the church, offer and present the child, abhorring and condemning the iniquity and obstinate contempt of the impenitent. if any think it severe that the child should be punished for the iniquity of the father, let them understand that the sacraments appertain only to the faithful and to their seed. such as stubbornly contemn all godly admonition and obstinately remain to their iniquity cannot be accounted amongst the faithful. . _the order for public offenders._--we have spoken nothing of those that commit horrible crimes, as murderers, man-slayers, and adulterers; for such, as we have said, the civil sword ought to punish to death. but, if they be permitted to live, the church must, as before is said, draw the sword which of god she hath received, holding them as accursed even in their very act. the offender in each case must be called and order of the church used against him, in the same manner as the persons that for obstinate impenitence are publicly excommunicate. the obstinate impenitent after the sentence of excommunication, and the murderer or adulterer, stand in one case as concerning the judgment of the church; that is, neither may be received in the fellowship of the church to prayers or sacraments (but to hearing of the word they may be admitted) until first they offer themselves to the ministry, humbly requiring the ministers and elders to pray to god for them, and also to be intercessors to the church that they may be admitted to public repentance, and so to the fruition of the benefits of christ jesus, distributed to the members of his body. if this request be humbly made, then may not the ministers refuse to signify the same unto the church on the next day of public preaching, the minister giving exhortation to the church to pray to god to perform the work which he appears to have begun, working in the heart of the offender unfeigned repentance of his grievous crime, and the sense and feeling of his great mercy, by the operation of his holy spirit. thereafter, a day ought publicly to be assigned unto him to give open confession of his offence and contempt, and so to make a public satisfaction to the church of god. on that day the offender must appear in presence of the whole church, and with his own mouth condemn his own impiety, publicly confessing the same; desiring god of his grace and mercy, and his congregation, that it will please them to accept him into their society, as before is said. the minister must examine diligently whether he find in the offender a hatred and displeasure of his sin, as well of his crime as of his contempt; and if he confess this, he must travail with him, to see what hope he hath of god's mercy. if the minister find the offender reasonably instructed in the knowledge of christ jesus, in the virtue of his death, he may comfort him with god's infallible promises, and demand of the church if they be content to receive in the society of their body that creature of god, whom satan before hath drawn into his nets, seeing that he declares himself penitent. if the church grant this, and they may not justly deny the same, then ought the minister in public prayer to commend him to god, and confess the sin of that offender and of the whole church, desiring mercy and grace for christ jesus' sake. this prayer being ended, the minister ought to exhort the church to receive that penitent brother into their favour, as they require god to receive themselves when they have offended. in sign of their consent, the elders and chief men of the church shall take the penitent by the hand, and one or two, in name of the whole, shall kiss and embrace him with all reverence and gravity, as a member of christ jesus. when these things have been done, the minister shall exhort the reconciled to take diligent heed in times coming, that satan entrap him not into such crimes, admonishing him that he will not cease to tempt and try by all means possible to bring him from that obedience which he hath given to god, and to the ordinance of his son christ jesus. the exhortation being ended, the minister ought to give public thanks unto god for the conversion of that brother, and for the benefits which we receive by jesus christ, praying for the increase and continuance of the same. if the penitent, after he have offered himself to the ministry or to the church, be found ignorant in the principal points of our religion, and chiefly in the article of justification and of the office of christ jesus, he ought to be exactly instructed before he be received. for it is a mocking of god to receive into repentance those who know not wherein stands their remedy when they repent their sin. . _persons subject to discipline._--to discipline must all estates within this realm be subject, if they offend; the rulers as well as they that are ruled; yea, and the preachers themselves, as well as the poorest within the church. and because the eye and the mouth of the church ought to be most single and irreprehensible, the life and conversation of the ministers ought most diligently to be tried. of this we shall speak after we have spoken of the election of elders and deacons, who must assist the ministers in all public affairs of the church, etc. x. touching the election of elders and deacons, etc. men of best knowledge in god's word, of cleanest life, men faithful, and of most honest conversation that can be found in the church, must be nominated to be in election; and the names of the same must be publicly read to the whole kirk by the minister, who shall give them advertisement that from amongst these must be chosen elders and deacons. if any of the nominated be noted with public infamy, he ought to be repelled; for it is not seemly that the servant of corruption shall have authority to judge in the church of god. if any man knows others of better qualities within the church than these that be nominated, let them be put in election, that the church may have the choice. if churches be of smaller number than that seniors and deacons can be chosen from amongst them, they may well be joined to the next adjacent church. for the plurality of churches, without ministers and order, shall rather hurt than edify. the election of elders and deacons ought to take place once every year (we judge the first day of august to be most convenient), lest, by long continuance of such officers, men presume upon the liberty of the church. it hurts not that one man be retained in office more years than one, so that he be appointed yearly, by common and free election; provided always that the deacons, treasurers, be not compelled to receive the office again for the space of three years. how the votes and suffrages may be best received, so that every man may give his vote freely, every several church may take such order as best seemeth to them. the elders, being elected, must be admonished of their office, which is to assist the minister in all public affairs of the church, to wit, in judging and discerning causes, in giving admonition to the licentious liver, and in having respect to the manners and conversation of all men within their charge; for the light and unbridled life of the licentious ought to be corrected and bridled by the gravity of the seniors. yea, the seniors ought to take heed to the life, manners, diligence, and study of their minister. if he be worthy of admonition, they must admonish him; of correction, they must correct him. and if he be worthy of deposition, they, with consent of the church and superintendent, may depose him, if his crime so deserve. if a minister be light in conversation, he ought to be admonished by his elders and seniors. if he be negligent in study, or one that waiteth not upon his charge and flock, or one that proponeth not fruitful doctrine, he deserveth sharper admonition and correction. if he be found stubborn and inobedient to this, the seniors of one church may complain to the ministry of the two next adjacent churches where men of greater gravity are. if he be found inobedient to their admonition, he ought to be discharged from his ministry, until his repentance appear and a place be vacant for him. should any minister be taken in any notable crime, such as whoredom, adultery, murder, manslaughter, perjury, teaching of heresy, or any that deserveth death or that may be a note of perpetual infamy, he ought to be deposed for ever. by heresy we mean pernicious doctrine, plainly taught and obstinately defended, against the foundation and principles of our faith. and such a crime we judge to deserve perpetual deposition from the ministry; for we know it to be most dangerous to commit the flock to a man infected with the pestilence of heresy. some crimes deserve deposition for a time, and until the person give declaration of greater gravity and honesty. as, if a minister be deprehended drunk, brawling or fighting, an open slanderer, an infamer of his neighbour, factious and a sower of discord, he may be commanded to cease from his ministry until he declare the signs of repentance; upon which the church shall abide him the space of twenty days or farther, as they shall think expedient, before they proceed to a new election. every inferior church shall, by one of their seniors and one of their deacons, once in the year, notify unto the ministry of the superintendent's church the life, manners, study, and diligence of their ministers, to the end that the discretion of some may correct the lenity of others. not only may the life and manners of the ministers come under censure and judgment of the church, but also that of their wives, children, and family. care must be taken that ministers neither live riotously nor yet avariciously; yea, respect must be had how they spend the stipend appointed to their living. if a reasonable stipend be appointed, and they live avariciously, they must be admonished to live as they receive; for, as excess and superfluity is not tolerable in a minister, so is avarice and the careful solicitude of money and gear utterly to be condemned in christ's servants, and especially in those that are fed upon the charge of the church. we judge it unseemly and not tolerable that ministers shall be boarded in common alehouses or taverns. neither yet must a minister be permitted to frequent and commonly haunt the court, unless it be for a time, when he is either sent by the church or called for by the authority for his counsel and judgment. nor must he be one of the council in civil affairs, be he judged never so apt for that purpose. either must he cease from the ministry, which at his own pleasure he may not do, or else from bearing charge in civil affairs, unless it be to assist the parliament if called upon. the office of the deacons, as is before declared, is to receive the rents and gather the alms of the church, and to keep and distribute the same, as by the ministry of the kirk shall be appointed. they may also assist in judgment with the ministers and elders, and may be admitted to read in the assembly if they be required and be found able thereto. the elders and deacons, with their wives and households, must be under the same censure as is prescribed for the ministers. for they must be careful over their office; and, seeing that they are judges to the manners of others, their own conversation ought to be irreprehensible. they must be sober, humble, lovers and entertainers of concord and peace; and, finally, they ought to be the example of godliness to others. if the contrary thereof appear, they must be admonished by the minister, or by some of their brethren of the ministry, if the fault be secret; if it be open and known, it must be rebuked before the ministry, and the same order kept against the senior or deacon as against the minister. we do not think it necessary that any public stipend shall be appointed to the elders or to the deacons, because their travail continues but for a year, and also because they are not so occupied with the affairs of the church but that reasonably they may attend upon their domestic business. xi. concerning the policy of the church. policy we call an exercise of the church in such things as may bring the rude and ignorant to knowledge, inflame the learned to greater fervency, or retain the church in good order. thereof there be two sorts: the one utterly necessary; as that the word be truly preached, the sacraments rightly ministrate, common prayer publicly made, the children and rude persons instructed in the chief points of religion, and offences corrected and punished; these things, we say, be so necessary that, without the same, there is no face of a visible kirk. the other is profitable, but not of mere necessity; as that the psalms should be sung, that certain places of the scriptures should be read when there is no sermon, that this day or that day, few or many in the week, the church should assemble. of these and such others we cannot see how a certain order can be established. in some churches the psalms may be conveniently sung; in others, perchance, they cannot. some churches may convene every day; some thrice or twice in the week; some, perchance, but once. in these and suchlike matters must every particular church, by their own consent, appoint their own policy. in great towns we think it expedient that every day there be either sermon, or else common prayers, with some exercise of reading the scriptures. we can neither require nor greatly approve that the common prayers be publicly used on the day of the public sermon, lest we shall either foster superstition in the people, who come to the prayers as they come to the mass, or else give them occasion to think that those be no prayers which are made before and after sermon. we require that, in every notable town, one day besides the sunday be appointed to the sermon and prayers. this day, during the time of sermon, must be kept free from all exercise of labour, as well of the master as of the servants. in smaller towns, as we have said, the common consent of the church must put order. but the sunday must straitly be kept, both before and after noon, in all towns. before noon the word must be preached and sacraments be administered, as also marriage solemnised, if occasion offer. after noon the young children must be publicly examined in their catechism in audience of the people, and in doing this the minister must take great diligence, to cause the people to understand the questions proponed, as well as the answers, and the doctrine that may be collected thereof. the order, and how much is appointed for every sunday, are already distinct in our book of common order; the most perfect catechism that ever yet was used in the church. after noon, also, baptism may be ministered, when great travail before noon offers occasion. it is also to be observed that prayers be used after noon upon the sunday, when there is neither preaching nor catechism. it appertaineth to the policy of the church to appoint the times when the sacraments shall be administered. baptism may be ministrate whensoever the word is preached; but we think it more expedient, that it be ministered upon the sunday, or upon the day of prayers only, after the sermon; partly, to remove the gross error by which many deceived persons think that children be damned if they die without baptism; and, partly, to make the people assist the administration of that sacrament with greater reverence than they do. for we do see the people begin already to wax weary by reason of the frequent repetition of those promises. four times in the year we think sufficient for the administration of the lord's table. these we desire to be distinct, that the superstition of times may be avoided so far as may be. your honours are not ignorant how superstitiously the people run to that action at easter, even as if the time gave virtue to the sacrament; and how the rest of the whole year they are careless and negligent, as if it appertaineth not unto them but at that time only. we think therefore most expedient that the first sunday of march be appointed for one time; the first sunday of june for another; the first sunday of september for the third; and the first sunday of december for the fourth. we do not deny that any several church, for reasonable causes, may change the time, and may administer oftener; but we study to suppress superstition. all ministers must be admonished to be more careful to instruct the ignorant than to satisfy their appetites, and more sharp in examination than indulgent, in admitting to that great mystery such as be ignorant of the use and virtue of the same. we think, therefore, that the administration of the table ought never to be without previous examination, especially of those whose knowledge is suspect. we think that none are fit to be admitted to that mystery who cannot formally say the lord's prayer, recite the articles of the belief, and declare the sum of the law. farther, we think it a thing most expedient and necessary that every church have a bible in english, and that the people be commanded to convene to hear the plain reading or interpretation of the scriptures, as the church shall appoint; so that, by frequent reading, this gross ignorance, which in the cursed papistry hath overflown all, may partly be removed. we think it most expedient that the scriptures be read in order, that is, that some one book of the old and the new testament be begun and orderly read to the end. and the same we judge of preaching, where the minister for the most part remaineth in one place. for this skipping and divagation from place to place of the scripture, be it in reading or be it in preaching, we judge not so profitable to edify the church, as the continual following of a text. every master of household must be commanded either to instruct, or else cause to be instructed, his children, servants, and family, in the principles of the christian religion; and without the knowledge of them none ought to be admitted to the table of the lord jesus. for such as be so dull and so ignorant that they can neither try themselves nor know the dignity and mystery of that action cannot eat and drink of that table worthily. we therefore judge it necessary that, every year at least, public examination be had by the ministers and elders of the knowledge of every person within the church; to wit, that every master and mistress of household come themselves, and so many of their family as be come to maturity, before the ministers and elders, to give confession of their faith, and to answer to such chief points of religion as the ministers shall demand. such as be ignorant in the articles of their faith; understand not, nor cannot rehearse the commandments of god; know not how to pray, nor wherein their righteousness consists, ought not to be admitted to the lord's table. if these stubbornly continue, and suffer their children and servants to continue in wilful ignorance, the discipline of the church must proceed against them unto excommunication; and then must the matter be referred to the civil magistrate. for, seeing that the just liveth by his own faith, and that christ jesus justifieth by knowledge of himself, we judge it insufferable that men shall be permitted to live and continue in ignorance as members of the church of god. moreover, men, women, and children would be exhorted to exercise themselves in the psalms, that when the church conveneth and doth sing, they may be the more able, with common heart and voice, to praise god. we think it expedient that, in private houses, the most grave and discreet person use the common prayers at morn and at night, for the comfort and instruction of others. for, seeing that we behold and see the hand of god now presently striking us with divers plagues, we think it a contempt of his judgments, or a provocation of his anger more to be kindled against us, if we be not moved to repentance of our former unthankfulness and to earnest invocation of his name. only his power may, and great mercy will, if we unfeignedly convert unto him, remove from us these terrible plagues which now for our iniquities hang over our heads. "convert us, o lord, and we shall be converted." xii. for preaching and interpretation of scriptures, etc. to the end that the church of god may have a trial of men's knowledge, judgments, graces, and utterances, and that such as somewhat have profited in god's word may from time to time grow to more full perfection to serve the church, as necessity shall require, it is most expedient that, in every town where schools and repair of learned men are, there be a certain day every week appointed to that exercise which saint paul calleth prophesying. the order thereof is expressed by him in these words: "let two or three prophets speak; and let the rest judge. but if anything be revealed to him that sitteth by, let the former keep silence. for ye may, one by one, all prophesy, that all may learn, and all may receive consolation. and the spirits, that is, the judgments, of the prophets, are subject to the prophets." from these words of the apostle, it is evident that in corinth, when the church assembled for that purpose, some place of scripture was read. upon this, first one gave his judgment to the instruction and consolation of the auditors, and after him did another either confirm what the former had said, or add what he had omitted, or gently correct or explain more properly where the whole truth was not revealed to the former. and, in case some things were hid from the one and from the other, liberty was given to a third to speak his judgment, for edification of the church. above the number of three, as appeareth, they passed not, for avoiding of confusion. these exercises, we say, are things most necessary for the church of god this day in scotland; for thereby, as we have said, shall the church have judgment and knowledge of the graces, gifts, and utterances of every man within their own body; and the simple, and such as have somewhat profited, shall be encouraged daily to study and proceed in knowledge. and, too, the church shall be edified; for this exercise must be patent to such as list to hear and learn, and every man shall have liberty to utter and declare his mind and knowledge to the comfort and edification of the church. but curious, peregrine,[ ] and unprofitable questions are to be avoided, lest of a profitable exercise there might arise debate and strife. all interpretation disagreeing from the principles of our faith, repugnant to charity, or standing in plain contradiction to any other manifest place of scripture, is to be rejected. the interpreter, in that exercise, may not take to himself the liberty of a public preacher, yea, although he be a minister appointed. he must bind himself to his text, and not enter on digression in explaining common places. he may use no invective in that exercise, unless it be, with sobriety, in confuting heresies. in exhortations or admonitions he must be short, that the time may be spent in opening of the mind of the holy ghost in that place, in following the file[ ] and dependence of the text, and in observing such notes as may instruct and edify the auditor. that contention may be avoided, neither may the interpreter nor yet any of the assembly move any question in open audience, unless he himself is content to give resolution without reasoning with any other; but every man ought to speak his own judgment to the edification of the church. [ ] foreign; irrelevant. [ ] thread; sequence. if any be noted with curiosity, or for bringing in any strange doctrine, he must be admonished by the moderators, the ministers and elders, immediately after the interpretation is ended. the whole members and number of them that are of the assembly ought to convene together, and then examination should be had as to how the person that did interpret did handle and convey the matter, the interpreter being removed until every man have given his censure. after this, the person being called, the faults, if any notable be found, are noted, and the person shall be gently admonished. in that last assembly, all questions and doubts, if any arise, should be resolved, without contention. the ministers of the parish churches to landward, adjacent to every chief town, and the readers (if they have any gift of interpretation) within six miles, must assist and concur with those that prophesy within the towns; to the end that they themselves may either learn, or that others may learn from them. and, moreover, men in whom any gifts are supposed to be, which might edify the church, if they were well applied, must be charged by the ministers and elders to join themselves with that session and company of interpreters, to the end that the church may judge whether they be able to serve to god's glory, and to the profit of the church in the vocation of ministers or not. if any be found disobedient, and not willing to communicate the gifts and spiritual graces of god with their brethren, after sufficient admonition, discipline must proceed against them; provided that the civil magistrate concurs with the judgment and election of the church. for no man may be permitted to live as best pleaseth himself within the church of god; but every man must be constrained, by fraternal admonition and correction, to bestow his labours, to the edification of others, when of the church they are required. what day in the week is most convenient for that exercise and what books of the scriptures shall be most profitable to be read, we refer to the judgment of every particular church; we mean, to the wisdom of the ministers and elders. xiii. of marriage. because marriage, the blessed ordinance of god, hath partly been contemned in this cursed papistry; and partly hath been so infirmed, that the persons conjoined could never be assured of continuance, if the bishops and prelates should list to dissolve the same; we have thought good to show our judgments how such confusion in times coming may be best avoided. first, public inhibition must be made that no persons under the power and obedience of others, such as sons and daughters and these that be under curators, neither men nor women, contract marriage privily and without knowledge of their parents, tutors, or curators, under whose power they are for the time. if they do this, the censure and discipline of the church shall proceed against them. if the parties have their hearts touched with desire of marriage, they are bound to give honour to the parents and open unto them their affection, asking of them counsel and assistance, as to how that motion, which they judge to be of god, may be performed. if father, friend, or master gainstand their request, and have no other cause than the common sort of men have (to wit, lack of goods, or because they are not so high-born as they require); yet must not the parties whose hearts are touched make any covenant until farther declaration be made unto the church of god. and, therefore, after they have opened their minds to their parents, or such others as have charge over them, they must declare it also to the ministry or to the civil magistrate, requiring them to travail with their parents for their consent, which to do they are bound. if they, to wit, the magistrate or ministers, find no just cause why the marriage required may not be fulfilled, then, after sufficient admonition to the father, friend, master, or superior, that none of them resist the work of god, the ministry or magistrate may enter into the place of the parent and, by consenting to their just requests, may admit them to marriage; for the work of god ought not to be hindered by the corrupt affections of worldly men. we call it the work of god when two hearts, without filthiness before committed, are so joined, that both require and are content to live together in the holy bond of matrimony. if any man commit fornication with the woman whom he required in marriage, then do both lose this foresaid benefit as well of the church as of the magistrate; for neither ought to be intercessors or advocates for filthy fornicators. but the father, or nearest friend whose daughter, being a virgin, is deflowered, hath power by the law of god to compel the man that did that injury to marry his daughter; or, if the father will not accept him by reason of his offence, then may he require the dot[ ] of his daughter. if the offender be not able to pay this, then ought the civil magistrate to punish his body by some other punishment. [ ] dowry. because fornication, whoredom, and adultery are sins most common in this realm, we require of your honours, in the name of the eternal god, that severe punishment, according as god hath commanded, be executed against such wicked offenders; for we doubt not but that such enormous crimes, openly committed, provoke the wrath of god, as the apostle speaketh, not only upon the offenders, but also upon the places where, without punishment, they are committed. to return to our former purpose: marriage ought not to be contracted amongst persons that have no election for lack of understanding; and therefore we affirm that bairns and infants cannot lawfully be married in their minor age, to wit, the man within fourteen years of age, and the woman within twelve years, at the least. if it chance that any have been so married and have kept their bodies always separate, we cannot judge them bound to adhere as man and wife, by reason of a promise which in god's presence was no promise at all. but if, in the years of judgment, they have embraced the one the other, then, by reason of their last consent, they have ratified that which others did promise for them in their youth. in a reformed church, marriage ought not to be secretly used, but in open face and public audience of the church. for avoidance of dangers, it is expedient that the banns be publicly proclaimed on three sundays, unless the persons be so known that no suspicion of danger may arise, when the banns may be shortened at the discretion of the ministry. but in nowise can we admit marriage to be used secretly, however honourable the persons be. the sunday before sermon we think most convenient for marriage, and that it be used on no other day, without the consent of the whole ministry. unless adultery be committed, marriage, once lawfully contracted, may not be dissolved at man's pleasure, as our master christ jesus doth witness. if adultery be sufficiently proven in presence of the civil magistrate, the innocent, upon request, ought to be pronounced free, and the offender ought to suffer death, as god hath commanded. if the civil sword foolishly spare the life of the offender, yet may not the church be negligent in their office. this is to excommunicate the wicked, to repute them as dead members, and to pronounce the innocent party to be at freedom, be the offender never so honourable before the world. if the life be spared to the offenders, as it ought not to be, if the fruits of repentance of long time appear in them, and if they earnestly desire to be reconciled with the church, we judge that they may be received to participation of the sacraments, and of the other benefits of the church, for we would not that the church should hold those excommunicate whom god has absolved, that is, the penitent. if any demand whether the offender, after reconciliation with the church, may marry again, we answer, that, if they cannot live continent, and if the necessity be such as that they fear farther offence of god, we cannot forbid them to use the remedy ordained of god. if the party offended may be reconciled to the offender, then we judge that in nowise it shall be lawful to the offender to marry any other than the party that hath been offended. the solemnization of the latter marriage must be in the open face of the church, like the former, but without proclamation of banns. this we do offer as the best counsel that god giveth unto us in so doubtsome a case. but the most perfect reformation were, if your honours would give to god his honour and glory, that ye would prefer his express commandment to your own corrupt judgments, especially in punishing of those crimes which he commandeth to be punished with death. for so should ye declare yourselves god's true and obedient officers, and your commonwealth should be rid of innumerable troubles. we mean not that sins committed in our former blindness, and almost buried in oblivion, shall be called again to examination and judgment. but we require that the law may now and hereafter be so established and executed that this ungodly impunity of sin have no place within this realm. for, in the fear of god, we signify unto your honours that whosoever persuadeth you that ye may pardon where god commandeth death deceiveth your souls, and provoketh you to offend god's majesty. xiv. of burial. burial in all ages hath been holden in estimation, to signify the faith that the same body that was committed to the earth would not utterly perish, but would rise again. and we would have the same kept within this realm, provided that superstition, idolatry, and whatsoever hath proceeded of a false opinion and for advantage's sake, be avoided. singing of mass, placebo, and dirge, and all other prayers over or for the dead, are not only superfluous and vain, but are idolatry, and are repugnant to the plain scriptures of god. plain it is that every one that dieth departeth either in the faith of christ jesus, or else departeth in incredulity. plain it is that they that depart in the true faith of christ jesus rest from their labours, and from death do go to life everlasting, as by our master and by his apostle we are taught. but whosoever shall depart in unbelief or in incredulity shall never see life, but the wrath of god abideth upon him. and so we say that prayers for the dead are not only superfluous and vain, but are expressly repugnant to the manifest scriptures and truth thereof. to avoid all inconveniences, we judge it best that there be neither singing nor reading at the burial. albeit things sung and read may admonish some of the living to prepare themselves for death, yet shall some superstitious and ignorant persons ever think that the singing or reading of the living does and may profit the dead. for this reason we think it most expedient that the dead be convoyed to the place of burial by some honest company of the church, without either singing or reading; yea, without all kind of ceremony heretofore used, other than that the dead be committed to the grave, with gravity and sobriety, so that those that be present may seem to fear the judgments of god, and to hate sin, which is the cause of death.[ ] [ ] and yet, notwithstanding, we are not so precise, but that we are content that particular kirks use them in that behalf, with the consent of the ministry of the same, as they will answer to god, and to the assembly of the universal kirk gathered within the realm. (_additio._) we are not ignorant that some require a sermon at the burial, or else that some places of scriptures be read, to put the living in mind that they are mortal, and that likewise they must die. but let those men understand that the sermons which are daily made serve for that use. if men despise these, the preaching of funeral sermons shall nourish superstition and a false opinion, as we have said, rather than bring such persons to any godly consideration of their own estate. besides, either shall the ministers for the most part be occupied in preaching funeral sermons or else they shall have respect to persons, preaching at the burial of the rich and honourable, but keeping silence when the poor or despised departeth; and this the ministers cannot do with safe conscience. for, seeing that before god there is in respect of persons, and that their ministry appertaineth to all alike, whatsoever they do to the rich, in respect of their ministry, the same they are bound to do to the poorest under their charge. in respect of divers inconveniences, we think it unseemly that the church appointed to preaching and ministration of the sacraments shall be made a place of burial. some other secret and convenient place, lying in the most free air, should be appointed for that use; and this ought to be well walled and fenced about, and kept for that use only. xv. for reparation of churches. lest the word of god, and ministration of the sacraments, come into contempt by unseemliness of the place, churches and places where the people publicly convene should, with expedition, be repaired in doors, windows, thatch, and provided within with such preparations as appertain to the majesty of the word of god as well as unto the ease and commodity of the people. we know the slothfulness of men in this behalf, and in all other which may not redound to their private commodity, and strait charge and commandment must be given that before a certain day the reparations must be begun, and that before another day, to be affixed by your honours, they be finished. penalties and sums of money must be enjoined, and then without pardon taken from the contemners. the reparation would be according to the possibility and number of the church. every church must have doors, close windows of glass, thatch or slate able to withhold rain, a bell to convocate the people together, a pulpit, a basin for baptism, and tables for the ministration of the lord's supper. in greater churches, and where the congregation is great in number, provision must be made within the church for the quiet and commodious receiving of the people. the expenses shall be lifted partly from the people, and partly from the teinds, at the discretion of the ministry. xvi. for punishment of those that profane the sacraments and do contemn the word of god, and dare presume to minister them, not being thereto lawfully called. satan hath never ceased from the beginning to draw mankind into one of two extremities. he hath sought that men should be so ravished with gazing upon the visible creatures that, forgetting why these were ordained, they should attribute unto them a virtue and power which god hath not granted unto them. or else he hath sought that men should so contemn and despise god's blessed ordinance and holy institutions, as if neither in the right use of them were there any profit, nor yet in their profanation were there any danger. as, in this wise, satan hath blinded the most part of mankind from the beginning; so we doubt not but that he will strive to continue in his malice even to the end. our eyes have seen and presently do see the experience of the one and of the other. what was the opinion of the most part of men, of the sacrament of christ's body and blood, during the darkness of superstition, is not unknown; how it was gazed upon, kneeled unto, borne in procession, and finally worshipped and honoured as christ jesus himself. so long as satan might retain man in that damnable idolatry, he was quiet, as one that possessed his kingdom of darkness peaceably. but since it hath pleased the mercies of god to reveal unto the unthankful world the light of his word, and the right use and administration of his sacraments, he essays man upon the contrary part. where, not long ago, men stood in such admiration of that idol in the mass that none durst presume to have said the mass, but the foresworn shaven sort (the beasts marked men); some dare now be so bold as, without all convocation, to minister, as they suppose, the true sacraments in open assemblies. some idiots, also, yet more wickedly and more imprudently, dare counterfeit in their houses that which the true ministers do in the open congregation; they presume, we say, to do it in houses without reverence, without word preached, and without minister, other than of companion to companion. this contempt proceedeth, no doubt, from the malice and craft of that serpent who first deceived man, of purpose to deface the glory of christ's evangel, and to bring his blessed sacraments into a perpetual contempt. farther, your honours may clearly see how proudly and stubbornly the most part despise the evangel of christ jesus offered unto you. unless ye resist sharply and stoutly the manifest despiser as well as the profaner of the sacraments, ye shall find them pernicious enemies before long. therefore, in the name of the eternal god and of his son, christ jesus, we require of your honours that, without delay, strait laws be made against the one and the other. we dare not prescribe unto you what penalties shall be required of such. but this we fear not to affirm, that the one and the other deserve death. if he which doth falsify the seal, subscription, or coinage of a king is adjudged worthy of death; what shall we think of him who plainly doth falsify the seals of christ jesus, prince of the kings of the earth? if darius pronounced upon the man that durst attempt to hinder the re-edification of the material temple, the sentence that a bauk[ ] should be taken from his house, and he himself be hanged upon it; what shall we say of those that contemptuously blaspheme god and manifestly hinder the spiritual temple of god, the souls and bodies of the elect--from being purged, by the true preaching of christ jesus, from the superstition and damnable idolatry in which they have been of long plunged and holden captive? if ye, as god forbid, declare yourselves careless over the true religion, god will not suffer your negligence to go unpunished. therefore, the more earnestly require we that strait laws may be made against the stubborn contemners of christ jesus, and against such as dare presume to administer his sacraments, without orderly call to that office; lest, while there be none found to gainstand impiety, the wrath of god be kindled against the whole. [ ] beam. the papistical priests have neither power nor authority to administer the sacraments of christ jesus; because in their mouth is not the sermon of exhortation. to them, therefore, must strait inhibition be made, notwithstanding any usurpation which they have had in that behalf in the time of blindness. it is neither the clipping of their crowns, the crossing of their fingers, the blowing of the dumb dogs, called the bishops, nor yet the laying on of their hands that maketh them the true ministers of christ jesus. the spirit of god inwardly moving hearts to seek christ's glory and the profit of his church, and thereafter the nomination of the people, the examination of the learned, and public admission, as before we have said, makes men lawful ministers of the word and sacraments. we speak of an ordinary vocation, where churches are reformed, or at least tend to reformation; and not of that which is extraordinary, when god by himself, and by his only power, raiseth up to the ministry such as best please his wisdom. the conclusion. thus have we, in these few heads, offered unto your honours our judgments, according as we were commanded, touching the reformation of things which heretofore have altogether been abused in this cursed papistry. we doubt not but some of our petitions shall appear strange unto you at the first sight. but if your wisdoms deeply consider that we must answer not only unto men, but also before the throne of the eternal god and of his son, christ jesus, for the counsel which we give in this so grave matter, your honours shall easily consider that it is much safer for us to fall into the displeasure of all men on earth, than to offend the majesty of god, whose justice cannot sutler flatterers and deceitful counsellors to go unpunished. that we require the church to be set at such liberty, that she neither be compelled to feed idle bellies, nor to sustain the tyranny which heretofore by violence hath been maintained, we know will offend many. but if we should keep silence, we are most certain to offend the just and righteous god, who by the mouth of his apostle hath pronounced this sentence: "he that laboureth not, let him not eat." if we, in this behalf or in any other, require to ask anything, other than by god's expressed commandment, by equity and by good conscience ye are bound to grant, let it be noted, and after repudiated; but if we require nothing which god requireth not also, let your honours take heed how ye gainstand the charge of him whose hand and punishment ye cannot escape. if blind affection leads you to have respect to the sustentation of those carnal friends of yours, who tyrannously have empired above the poor flock of christ jesus, rather than the zeal of god's glory provoke and move you to set his oppressed church at freedom and liberty, we fear sharp and sudden punishment for you, and that the glory and honour of this enterprise will be reserved unto others. yet shall this our judgment abide to the generations following for a monument, and witness how lovingly god called you and this realm to repentance, what counsellors god sent unto you, and how ye have used the same. if obediently ye hear god now calling, we doubt not but he shall hear you in your greatest necessity. but if, following your own corrupt judgments, ye contemn his voice and vocation, we are assured that your former iniquity, and present ingratitude, shall together crave just punishment from god, who cannot long delay to execute his most just judgments, when, after many offences and long blindness, grace and mercy offered is contemptuously refused. god the father of our lord jesus christ, by the power of his holy spirit, so illuminate your hearts, that ye may clearly see what is pleasing and acceptable in his presence; so bow the same to his obedience, that ye may prefer his revealed will to your own affections; and so strengthen you by the spirit of fortitude, that boldly ye may punish vice, and maintain virtue within this realm, to the praise and glory of his holy name, to the comfort and assurance of your own consciences, and to the consolation and good example of the posterities following. amen. so be it. by your honours' most humble servitors, etc. from edinburgh, _the twentieth of may_ . act of secret council, xxvii january, anno &c., .[ ] [ ] that is, in modern terms, th january , the year running from th march (instead of st january), in the computation of time then in use. we, who have subscribed these presents, having advised with the articles herein specified, as is above mentioned from the beginning of this book, think the same good, and in conformity with god's word in all points, subject to the notes and additions thereto eked; and we promise to set the same forward to the uttermost of our powers. providing that the bishops, abbots, priors, and other prelates and beneficed men, who already have joined themselves to us, bruik the revenues of their benefices during their lifetimes, they sustaining and upholding the ministry and ministers, as is herein specified, for preaching of the word, and administering of the sacraments of god. james. john lockhart _of barr_. james hamilton. george corrie _of kelwood_. archibald argyle. john shaw _of haly_. james stewart. andrew hamilton _of_ rothes. _letham_. james haliburton. glencairn. r. boyd. ochiltree. alexander campbell, sanquhar. dean of moray. saintjohns. william of culross. william lord hay. master alexander drumlanrig. gordon. cunninghamhead. bargany younger. john maxwell. andrew ker _of faldonside_. george fenton _of that ilk_. t. scott _of hayning_. lochinvar. glossary of obsolete and scots words and phrases. _affray_, terror; fright: (v.) to frighten. _aggravate_, to emphasise an enormity. _aggreage_, to aggravate. _appointment_, terms; agreement; truce or treaty. _arguesyn_, lieutenant (naut.). _assedations_, leases. _assurance_, truce; agreement for truce. _bauk_, beam. _bear_, barley. _bide_, to abide; _biaden_, abode. _bill_, letter; petition. _birse_, bristle; beard. _block-house_, tower; fort. _boss_, a worthless character. _bourding_, jesting. _brook_, to soil. _bruik_, to enjoy; to possess. _bruit_, common talk; rumours; repute. _buds_, gifts; bribes. _buist_ (for _browst_), brewing. _buist_, box; chest. _burgess_, inhabitant of a burgh who has full municipal rights. _burn_, brook. _burn his bill_, make recantation. _camp-volant_, expeditionary force. _cass_, to annul. _censement_, judgment. _chalder_, a grain measure of about bushels. _chamber-child_, valet-de-chambre. _chanters_, laics endowed with ecclesiastical benefices. _chap_, to strike; to knock. _cheek-mate_, familiar. _chimley_, chimney; fire-basket. _clawback_, sycophant. _clerk-play_, a dramatic entertainment founded on a passage of scripture; a "mystery." _cognition_, evidence. _comfort_, strength; godly confidence. _commend_, an ecclesiastical benefice committed to a temporary holder. _commendator_, the holder of a commend. _commodity_, advantage. _compear_, to present oneself in response to a summons. _compone_, to agree. _consequently_, in sequence. _consistory_, church court. _cordelier friar_, franciscan. _cowp_, to tilt. _craig_, neck. _credit_, mandate; written instructions. _crown of the sun_, a french crown having as mint mark an emblem of the sun: gold coin worth s. _cuid_, chrisom. _culverin_, the largest cannon used in the th century. _cummer_, entanglement; broil; brawl. _cunyie_, mint, coinage; to mint, to coin. _dad_, to knock; to thump. _dag_, to shoot. _deambulator_, promenade. _delate_, to accuse. _delation_, accusation. _delatour_, procrastination. _dictament_, phraseology. _ding_, to knock violently; to dash (p. _dang_, p.p. _dung_). _ditement_, what is written. _divagation_, wandering from the straight course. _divers_, sundry. _doctrine_, act of teaching. _document_, warning; evidence. _dolour_, grief; distress. _dontibour_, courtesan. _dortour_, hangings; decorative draperies. _dot_, dowry. _doted_, endowed. _down-thring_, overthrow. _dule-weed_, apparel of mourning. _dyke_, wall. _dyttament_, dictation; guidance. _effray_, to frighten. _eke_, to increase. _eke_, _eik_, an addition. _eme_, uncle; kinsman. _ensenyes_, companies (milit.). _exercition_, bodily exercise; military exercise.--_jamieson._ _factors_, stewards. _factory_, scots equivalent of a power of attorney. _fard_, ardour; violence. _fash_, to trouble. _fashery_, trouble. _fashious_, troublesome. _fertour_, coffer. _file_, thread; sequence. _fillocks_, giddy young women. _fley_, to scare; to frighten. _flyrt and flyre_, to mock and deride. _forethink_, to repent. _fornent_, over against. _frack_, active; ready; _make frack_, make bustling preparation. _fray_, fright. _fremmed_, strange; unfriendly. _gaird_, guard; civil establishment. _gait_, way; route; _upon the gait_, on the move. _gar_, to cause; _gart_, caused. _gear_, goods; stuff. _girn_, to grind or gnash the teeth. _girnell_, granary. _glaise_, a scorching. _glister_, lustre. _glondours_, a state of ill-humour. _good-daughter_, daughter-in-law. _goodsire_, maternal grandfather. _greet_, to weep; _grat_, wept. _griping_, extortionate. _gukstoun glaikstour_, apparently a nickname. "a contemptuous designation, expressive of the combination of folly and vainglory."--_jamieson._ _hackbut_, harquebus: species of hand firearm used in th and th centuries. _hamesucken_, the crime of beating or assaulting a person within his own house. _harberous_, hospitable. _hardess_, harshness. _herschip_, plundering. _horn_, public intimation of outlawry. _horning_, outlawry; process of outlawry. _how_, hollow; underground. _hurl_, to wheel. _improve_, to disprove. _inable_, to disqualify. _incontinently_, forthwith. _indifference_, impartiality. _indifferent_, impartial. _induration_, hardening of heart. _indure_, to remain of firm purpose. _ingyne_, ingenuity; genius. _institute_, to place in authority. _irons_, coining dies. _ish_, to come out; to sally forth. _jack_, a coat of mail. _jackman_, armed follower. _jefwellis_, jailbirds. _jow_, to toll. _kep_, to intercept; to catch. _kindness_, fealty of retainers. _knap_, to strike. _knapscall_, head-piece. _kythe_, to show; to practise. _lair_, to stick in the mire. _lavachre_, washing. _lesing_, lying. _let_, hindrance. _letters_, writs under the royal signet; summonses. _lippen_, to trust. _manrent_, vassalage. _mansworn_, perjured. _marrow_, match; equal. _mell_, to meddle. _menyie_, crowd of followers. _mint_, threat. _modify_, adjust. _mows_, jest. _myster_, skill; mastery. _napkin_, pocket-handkerchief. _navy_, fleet. _neifeling_, fisticuffs. _neifs_, fists. _noisome_, annoying; troublesome. _pare_, to diminish. _partaker_, ally. _patron_, skipper. _penult_, second last (day). _peregrine_, foreign; irrelevant. _placebo_, the opening antiphon of vespers for the dead, in the romish service; from opening words of psalm xvi. _placeboes_, parasites; flatterers. _plack_, a small copper coin. _platt_, to place close. _platt on his knees_, threw himself on his knees. _pock_, bag; case. _poise_, secret hoard of money. _pottinger_, apothecary. _power_, forces. _practise_, to intrigue. _prevent_, anticipate. _propine_, to present gifts. _purchase_, to sue out; to procure. _purpose_, conversation. _rays_, yards (naut.). _reduce_, to bring back. _reek_, smoke. _regiment_, rule; control. _reif_, robbery. _retreat_, to repudiate; to withdraw. _rowping_, crying hoarsely. _ruse_, boast. _sark_, shirt. _scaill_, scaling-ladder. _schybald_, mean fellow. _scrimple_, to shrivel. _scrip_, to mock. _seinyiè_, synod; consistory. _skaill_, to disperse; to spill. _slanting_, range of fire. _slogan_, battle-cry. _sloken_, to quench. _snappers_, stumbles. _sned_, to clip, as with shears. _sparse_, to spread abroad. _speir_, to inquire. _splent_, armour for the legs. _spunk_, spark. _spurtle_, porridge stick. _stammer_, to stagger. _stark_, strong. _stay_, impediment. _stock_, crop from which teind was drawn. _stog_, to stab. _stog-sword_, long small-sword. _stool_, pulpit. _stoop_, support. _stout_, staunch. _stowth_, theft. _sturr_, to make disturbance or trouble. _suppostis_, supporters. _sweir_, unwilling. _tabernacle_, a shrine for host consecrated at mass. _targetting of tails_, bordering of gowns with tassels. _teind_, tenth-part; tithe. _tine_, to lose; _tint_, lost. _tinsel_, loss. _to-look_, prospect. _tor_, arm (of a chair). _umquhile_, late; deceased. _upaland_, at a distance from the sea; in the country. _upfall_, matter cast up; incident. _vassalage_, feats of valour. _vilipended_, slighted; undervalued. _warsel_, wrestle. _whinger_, hanger (kind of sword). _wiss_, to imagine. _wodness_, fury; madness. _wolter_, overturn. _wyte_, blame. _yett_, gate. index. ancrum moor, . angus, earl of, , , , , , . annan, dean john, . argyll, fourth earl of, , , , , , , . argyll, fifth earl of, , , , , , , , , , , , , , . arran, lord james hamilton, second earl of (afterwards created duke of châtelherault, and frequently referred to by knox as "the duke" or "the duke's grace"). his name on the roll of heretics, . claims the regency on death of james v., . proclaimed regent, . breaks faith with england, . the cardinal's tool, . consents to wishart's arrest, . treacherous dealing with assassins of beaton, , . prepares to resist somerset's invasion, . at pinkie cleuch, . receives duchy of châtelherault, and other favours, for consent to marriage of the young queen, . at the trial of adam wallace, . he is deposed, . persecutes the protestants, . in league with queen regent, , , . attends sermon in st. giles, . is found on the side of the congregation, . is admonished by knox, . stationed at glasgow, . his slackness reproved by knox, . concurs in treaty of berwick, . at kinneil, , . exhorted by knox to remain firm, . at the trial of knox, . banqueted by the queen, . arran, third earl of (son of second earl, and succeeded to the title on his father's attaining his dukedom), , , , , , , , , , , , . arth, friar william, . ayr, , , . balfour, sir james, of pittendreich (sometime official of lothian), , , , , , . balnaves, henry, , , , , , , , , - . beaton, david, cardinal. makes inquisition, . opposes meeting of james v. and henry viii., . presents a "scroll" of heretics, . partly responsible for solway moss, . at the king's deathbed, . claims the regency unsuccessfully, . the regent favours the protestants and beaton is imprisoned, . but he escapes, . with the queen dowager and the faction of france, . raises a party against arran, . suggests marriage of lennox with queen dowager, . stirs strife amongst the protestants, . his treachery, . fortifies st. andrews, and hoists his flag, . attempts assassination of wishart, . secures arrest of wishart, . his quarrel with archbishop dunbar, . sits in judgment on wishart, - . fancies himself secure, . seized and assassinated, - . beaton, james, archbishop of glasgow (nephew of cardinal beaton), , . beaton, james, archbishop of st. andrews (uncle of cardinal beaton), , , , , , . bellenden, sir john. _see_ justice clerk. bellenden, thomas (justice clerk in succession to thomas scott), , . berwick, treaty of, . bible, an open, . blackader, robert, archbishop of glasgow, , . _book of discipline, the_, (cf. , ). borthwick, captain john, . bothwell, third earl of, , , . bothwell, fourth earl of (afterwards third husband of mary queen of scots), , , , , , , , , . buccleuch, family of, , , , . buchanan, george, . campbell, friar alexander, , . campbell, hugh, of kinyeancleuch, . campbell, robert, of kinyeancleuch, , . cassillis, earl of, , , , , , . castle campbell, . châtelherault, duke of. _see_ arran, second earl of. clerk of register (james macgill of nether rankeillor), , , . coldingham, lord john stewart, prior of, , , , , . _confession of faith_, knox's, , . congregation, the (name given to the reformation party in scotland). letter from knox to the lords of the congregation, . first covenant: december , . first rules of reformed church, . questioning regarding the mass, . steps towards public reformation, . first petition to regent, . appeal to parliament, . letter to the regent, . letters to the nobility, . west-land marches to aid of perth, . peace patched: may , . covenant renewed, . occupation of stirling and edinburgh, . overtures to regent, . regent in arms, . convention at stirling, . depose the regent, . soldiers demand pay, . english supplies captured, . retreat to stirling, . at stirling, . campaign in fife, . english fleet arrives, . french retreat to edinburgh, . negotiation with england, ff. treaty of berwick, . english army arrives: , . peace with france, . preachers and superintendents appointed, . knox preaches, reformation agreed upon, . petition to parliament, . _confession of faith_, . mass prohibited, . _the book of discipline_, . french demands, . convention at edinburgh, . the queen's mass, . court and kirk, . defaulting lords, . patrimony of kirk, . general assembly: june , . petition to queen, . bond subscribed at ayr, . influence at court, . general assembly: december , . massmongers tried, . arrest of cranstoun and armstrong, . knox summons the brethren, . he is tried for treason, . general assembly: december , . the assembly and knox, . general assembly: june , . schismatic courtiers, . debate between knox and lethington, . craig, mr. john, , , . craigmillar castle, . craw, paul, . crossraguel, abbot of, , , . crown matrimonial, . cupar, , . cupar moor, , . darnley, henry, lord, , . d'elboeuf, rené de lorraine, marquis, , , , . _discipline, the book of_, , , . douglas, family of, . douglas, john, , , . douglas, sir george (brother of the earl of angus), , , , , , . d'oysel, monsieur, , , , , , , , , , , , . duke, the. _see_ arran, second earl of. dun, john erskine, laird of (superintendent of angus and mearns), , , , , , , , , , , , , . dunbar, , , . dunbar, gavin, archbishop of glasgow, , , , . dunblane, bishop of, . dundee, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . dysart, . edinburgh, , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , . edinburgh castle, , , , , , . edward vi., , , . england, reformation in, . war with scotland ( ), . invasion of scotland ( ), . invasion of scotland ( ), . congregation seeks aid, . aid sent, . a fleet sent, . communings with the congregation, - . army withdrawn from scotland, . queen elizabeth declines marriage with arran, . queen elizabeth and mary queen of scots, , , . erskine, john, of dun. _see_ dun, laird of. erskine, lord (afterwards earl of mar and regent of scotland), , , , , _n._ faith, the confession of, , . fala raid, . fife, campaign in, . foxe, john, , _n._ france, peace with, . francis ii. of france, , , , . french in scotland, , , , , , . glasgow, , , , . glencairn, william, fourth earl of, , , , , . glencairn, alexander, fifth earl of, , , , , , , , , , , , . gourlay, norman, . gray, lord, , , . guise, duke of, , . guise. _see_ lorraine; d'elboeuf; mary. haddington, , , , , , , , . hailes, house of, . halden rig, . hamilton, gavin, abbot of kilwinning, , , , . hamilton, family of, , , , , , . hamilton, sir james, . hamilton, john (abbot of paisley, and archbishop of st. andrews after beaton), , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . hamilton, patrick, ff., , . harlaw, william, , , . henry ii. of france, , , , . henry viii., , , , , , , , . holyroodhouse, lord robert stewart, abbot of, , . home, lord, , . huntly, earl of, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . inveresk, , , . james iv., , , . james v., , , , , , , - . justice clerk, sir john bellenden, , , , . kennedy, friar, . kinghorn, , . kirkaldy, james, laird of grange, , , , , , , . kirkaldy, william, of grange, younger, , , , , , , , , . kirkcaldy, affair at, . kirk-breaking at perth, . kirk, the privy, . _knox's confession_, (cf. ). knox, john, waits upon wishart, . at castle of st. andrews, . called to be preacher, . first sermon, . disputation with winram, . prisoner in france, . in england, . at geneva, . returns to scotland, . on the mass, . in kyle, . summoned by the bishops, . recalled to geneva, . burned in effigy, . recalled from geneva, . letter to the lords, . returns from france, . at perth, . protest at perth, . accuses argyll and lord james stewart of disloyalty, . interdicted from preaching, . he declines to obey, . preaches at st. andrews, . at scone, . sermon at stirling, . preaches at cupar, . and sir william cecil, - . at berwick, . reproaches the lords, . minister of edinburgh, . _the book of discipline_, . preaches against queen's mass, . first interview with queen mary, - . discusses _book of discipline_, . on patrimony of kirk, . knox and lethington, . marriage of earl of moray, . bothwell and arran, . second interview with queen, - . warns the protestants, . and abbot of crossraguel, . third interview with queen mary, - . breaks with lord moray, . sermon to the lords, . fourth interview with queen mary, - . summons the brethren, . he is betrayed, . accused of high treason, . argues with master of maxwell, . tried by privy council, - . preaches against the mass, . disputation with lethington, concerning rights of princes, - . kyle, knox in, . kyle, lollards of, . kyle, wishart in, . kyllour, friar, . leith, , , , , , , , , , . lennox, earl of (afterwards regent of scotland), , , , , . lennox, family of, . leslie, john, , . leslie, norman, , , . lethington. _see_ maitland. lindsay, john, . linlithgow, , , , , , , , . lollards of kyle, the, . longniddry, . lorraine. _see_ d'elboeuf; mary. lorraine, cardinal of, , , , . lyndsay, master, afterwards lord, , , . lyndsay, sir david of the mount, , . macgill, james, of nether rankeillor. _see_ clerk of register. maitland, sir richard, of lethington, , , , , . maitland, william, of lethington, secretary to mary queen of scots. at conference with knox anent the mass, . joins lords of congregation, . ambassador from congregation to english court, , . supports the queen's mass, . scoffs at _book of discipline_, . modificator of stipends, . on the ingratitude of ministers, . at second interview of knox with queen, . objects to plain speaking concerning queen's mass, . commissioner to england and france concerning queen's marriage, . his return and worldly wisdom, . interest in knox's trial for high treason, , , , . for the queen, makes promises which are not kept, . defies the servants of god, . major, master john, . marischall, earl, , , , , , , , . martigues, count de, , , . mary tudor, queen of england, , . mary of lorraine (queen of james v., and for some time regent of scotland). arrival in scotland, . gives birth to mary stuart, . relations with cardinal beaton, . resents betrothal of mary to prince edward, . cardinal beaton takes possession, . earl of lennox proposes marriage, . seeks the death of wishart, . mourns death of cardinal beaton, . abets arran in breaking appointment with protestants, . goes to france, . supplants arran as regent, . her superstition and cruelty, . declares war on england, . temporises with protestants, . celebrates st. giles's day, . seeks the crown-matrimonial for the king of france, . aims at suppressing evangel, . duplicity towards protestants, . approves murder of walter myln, . makes large promises of reform, . her treachery, . resents kirk-breaking at perth, . stirs up the nobility, . objects to convocation of protestants at perth, . offers coloured terms, . enters perth, and breaks faith, . deserted by argyll and lord james, . declares war on the protestants, . breaks armistice after cupar moor, . driven from stirling and edinburgh, . marches upon edinburgh, . restores mass at holyrood, . strengthens her french forces, . deposed by the protestants, . boasts over protestant reverses, . lays waste the country, . rejoices at sight of french barbarity at second siege of leith, . is smitten with disease, . her illness, . expresses repentance, . her death, . mary stuart, queen of scots. her birth, . betrothal to prince edward, . taken to france, . visited by the queen-dowager (upon the occasion of her marriage to king francis ii.), . protestants act in her name, . declines to ratify acts of first protestant parliament, . death of king francis, . message to her people, . relations with queen elizabeth, . arrival in scotland, . the queen's mass at holyrood, - . first interview with knox, . state entry to edinburgh, . her behaviour, . imprisons arran and bothwell, . second interview with knox, - . negotiations with elizabeth, . relations with lord moray, , . visits the north, . deals with the revolt of huntly, . rumours of marriage, . permits flight of bothwell, . resents suppression of massmongers, . third interview with knox, - . opens parliament, . fourth interview with knox, - . receives warning from lord john stewart, . presides at trial of knox, - . banquets the lords, . her broken promises, . favours the papists, . mass, knox attacks, . the queen regent and the, . prohibited by act of parliament, . disputation concerning, . at holyrood, . restored by queen mary, . the queen's, . massmongers, trial of, . mauchline, . maxwell, lord, , , , , . maxwell, master of, , , , , , , , . melvin, james, , . methven, paul, , , , . miracles, false, . montrose, , , , . moray, lord james stewart, earl of. when prior of st. andrews, approves knox's doctrine, . emissary from queen regent to earl of argyll, . her commissioner to reformers at perth: interview with knox, . accused of disloyalty, by knox, . subscribes the bond of the lords of the congregation, . abandons the queen regent, . convenes the reformers at st. andrews, . at cupar moor, . stays the sack of scone, . represents the congregation at communings at preston, . pursues earl of bothwell, . offers to hold edinburgh for the congregation, . conducts protestant forces to st. andrews and cupar, . campaign in fife, . is summoned to conference at carlisle, . knox objects, . apprehends supporters of the french, . at berwick, . with the english army at preston, . at the queen regent's deathbed, . at the first protestant parliament, . sent by protestants to queen mary in france, . his narrow-escape and return, . protects queen's mass at holyrood, . at knox's interview with the queen, . at conference concerning queen's mass, . lieutenant of the borders, . appointed to modify stipends, . created earl of mar, and thereafter earl of moray instead, . suppresses riotous courtiers, . plots made against his life, . relations with the queen, , . receives knox's report of second interview with the queen, . knox breaks with him, . his eclipse at court, . receives lethington's report on knox's treason, . he and lethington reason with knox, . at knox's trial, . strained relations with knox continue, . morton, earl of, lord chancellor, (afterwards regent of scotland), , , , , , , , . myln, walter, . oblivion, act of, . ochiltree, andrew stewart, lord, , , , , , . ormiston, . paisley, abbot of. _see_ hamilton, john. panter, master david, , , . parliament of october , , . parliament, first protestant ( ), . parliament of may , . patrimony of the kirk, , . peace with france and england, . persecutions, early, . perth, , , , , - , , . pettycur, skirmish at, . pinkie cleuch, battle of, . pittarrow, laird of, , , , , . pope, act against supremacy of the, . protestant party. _see_ congregation, lords of. reconciliation, articles of, . regent, the. _see_ arran; mary. reid, adam, of barskymming, , . restalrig, dean of, . revolt of huntly, . rothes, earl of, , . rough, john, , , , . russell, friar, . ruthven, second lord, , , , , , , . ruthven, third lord, , , , , . st. andrews, , , , , , , , , , , , , , . st. andrews' castle, , , , , , , , . st. andrews university, , , . st. giles's image, . st. giles's kirk, , . st. john, sir james sandilands, lord, , , . sandilands, sir james, of calder, . sandilands, sir james, of torphichen. _see_ st. john. scone, sack of, . scots prisoners in france, , . scots reformers abroad, . scott, friar, , . scott, thomas, justice clerk, . seton, friar alexander, - . seton, lord, , , , , . siege of leith, first, . siege of leith, second, . siege of st. andrews castle, . sinclair, oliver, , . solway moss, ff., . stewart, lord james, prior of st. andrews. _see_ earl of moray. stewart, lord john. _see_ coldingham, prior of. stewart, lord robert. _see_ holyroodhouse, abbot of. stipends, modification of, . stirling, , , , , , , , . stratoun, david, . tranent, . twa-penny faith, the, . wallace, adam, . war with england ( ), . willock, john. seeks work in scotland, . discusses the mass, . preaches and teaches in edinburgh, , . at perth, . braves the fury of the queen regent, . absence in england, . exhorts the queen regent on her deathbed, . superintendent of glasgow, . part author of _the book of discipline_, . moderator at disputation between knox and protestant courtiers, . winram, dean john (sub-prior of st. andrews: afterwards superintendent of fife). preaches on heresy before trial of wishart, . receives wishart's confession, . disputation with knox concerning doctrine, - . is appointed superintendent for fife, . takes part in framing _book of discipline_, . joins deputation from assembly to protestant courtiers, . his judgment concerning the queen's mass, . wishart, george, ff., . _printed by_ morrison and gibb limited, _edinburgh_ * * * * * transcriber's note: minor typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected without note. irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. mismatched quotes are not fixed if it's not sufficiently clear where the missing quote should be placed. page : "taught in edinburgh in a greater audience that ever before"--"that" has been replaced with "than". concerning christian liberty by martin luther letter of martin luther to pope leo x. among those monstrous evils of this age with which i have now for three years been waging war, i am sometimes compelled to look to you and to call you to mind, most blessed father leo. in truth, since you alone are everywhere considered as being the cause of my engaging in war, i cannot at any time fail to remember you; and although i have been compelled by the causeless raging of your impious flatterers against me to appeal from your seat to a future council--fearless of the futile decrees of your predecessors pius and julius, who in their foolish tyranny prohibited such an action--yet i have never been so alienated in feeling from your blessedness as not to have sought with all my might, in diligent prayer and crying to god, all the best gifts for you and for your see. but those who have hitherto endeavoured to terrify me with the majesty of your name and authority, i have begun quite to despise and triumph over. one thing i see remaining which i cannot despise, and this has been the reason of my writing anew to your blessedness: namely, that i find that blame is cast on me, and that it is imputed to me as a great offence, that in my rashness i am judged to have spared not even your person. now, to confess the truth openly, i am conscious that, whenever i have had to mention your person, i have said nothing of you but what was honourable and good. if i had done otherwise, i could by no means have approved my own conduct, but should have supported with all my power the judgment of those men concerning me, nor would anything have pleased me better, than to recant such rashness and impiety. i have called you daniel in babylon; and every reader thoroughly knows with what distinguished zeal i defended your conspicuous innocence against silvester, who tried to stain it. indeed, the published opinion of so many great men and the repute of your blameless life are too widely famed and too much reverenced throughout the world to be assailable by any man, of however great name, or by any arts. i am not so foolish as to attack one whom everybody praises; nay, it has been and always will be my desire not to attack even those whom public repute disgraces. i am not delighted at the faults of any man, since i am very conscious myself of the great beam in my own eye, nor can i be the first to cast a stone at the adulteress. i have indeed inveighed sharply against impious doctrines, and i have not been slack to censure my adversaries on account, not of their bad morals, but of their impiety. and for this i am so far from being sorry that i have brought my mind to despise the judgments of men and to persevere in this vehement zeal, according to the example of christ, who, in his zeal, calls his adversaries a generation of vipers, blind, hypocrites, and children of the devil. paul, too, charges the sorcerer with being a child of the devil, full of all subtlety and all malice; and defames certain persons as evil workers, dogs, and deceivers. in the opinion of those delicate-eared persons, nothing could be more bitter or intemperate than paul's language. what can be more bitter than the words of the prophets? the ears of our generation have been made so delicate by the senseless multitude of flatterers that, as soon as we perceive that anything of ours is not approved of, we cry out that we are being bitterly assailed; and when we can repel the truth by no other pretence, we escape by attributing bitterness, impatience, intemperance, to our adversaries. what would be the use of salt if it were not pungent, or of the edge of the sword if it did not slay? accursed is the man who does the work of the lord deceitfully. wherefore, most excellent leo, i beseech you to accept my vindication, made in this letter, and to persuade yourself that i have never thought any evil concerning your person; further, that i am one who desires that eternal blessing may fall to your lot, and that i have no dispute with any man concerning morals, but only concerning the word of truth. in all other things i will yield to any one, but i neither can nor will forsake and deny the word. he who thinks otherwise of me, or has taken in my words in another sense, does not think rightly, and has not taken in the truth. your see, however, which is called the court of rome, and which neither you nor any man can deny to be more corrupt than any babylon or sodom, and quite, as i believe, of a lost, desperate, and hopeless impiety, this i have verily abominated, and have felt indignant that the people of christ should be cheated under your name and the pretext of the church of rome; and so i have resisted, and will resist, as long as the spirit of faith shall live in me. not that i am striving after impossibilities, or hoping that by my labours alone, against the furious opposition of so many flatterers, any good can be done in that most disordered babylon; but that i feel myself a debtor to my brethren, and am bound to take thought for them, that fewer of them may be ruined, or that their ruin may be less complete, by the plagues of rome. for many years now, nothing else has overflowed from rome into the world--as you are not ignorant--than the laying waste of goods, of bodies, and of souls, and the worst examples of all the worst things. these things are clearer than the light to all men; and the church of rome, formerly the most holy of all churches, has become the most lawless den of thieves, the most shameless of all brothels, the very kingdom of sin, death, and hell; so that not even antichrist, if he were to come, could devise any addition to its wickedness. meanwhile you, leo, are sitting like a lamb in the midst of wolves, like daniel in the midst of lions, and, with ezekiel, you dwell among scorpions. what opposition can you alone make to these monstrous evils? take to yourself three or four of the most learned and best of the cardinals. what are these among so many? you would all perish by poison before you could undertake to decide on a remedy. it is all over with the court of rome; the wrath of god has come upon her to the uttermost. she hates councils; she dreads to be reformed; she cannot restrain the madness of her impiety; she fills up the sentence passed on her mother, of whom it is said, "we would have healed babylon, but she is not healed; let us forsake her." it had been your duty and that of your cardinals to apply a remedy to these evils, but this gout laughs at the physician's hand, and the chariot does not obey the reins. under the influence of these feelings, i have always grieved that you, most excellent leo, who were worthy of a better age, have been made pontiff in this. for the roman court is not worthy of you and those like you, but of satan himself, who in truth is more the ruler in that babylon than you are. oh, would that, having laid aside that glory which your most abandoned enemies declare to be yours, you were living rather in the office of a private priest or on your paternal inheritance! in that glory none are worthy to glory, except the race of iscariot, the children of perdition. for what happens in your court, leo, except that, the more wicked and execrable any man is, the more prosperously he can use your name and authority for the ruin of the property and souls of men, for the multiplication of crimes, for the oppression of faith and truth and of the whole church of god? oh, leo! in reality most unfortunate, and sitting on a most perilous throne, i tell you the truth, because i wish you well; for if bernard felt compassion for his anastasius at a time when the roman see, though even then most corrupt, was as yet ruling with better hope than now, why should not we lament, to whom so much further corruption and ruin has been added in three hundred years? is it not true that there is nothing under the vast heavens more corrupt, more pestilential, more hateful, than the court of rome? she incomparably surpasses the impiety of the turks, so that in very truth she, who was formerly the gate of heaven, is now a sort of open mouth of hell, and such a mouth as, under the urgent wrath of god, cannot be blocked up; one course alone being left to us wretched men: to call back and save some few, if we can, from that roman gulf. behold, leo, my father, with what purpose and on what principle it is that i have stormed against that seat of pestilence. i am so far from having felt any rage against your person that i even hoped to gain favour with you and to aid you in your welfare by striking actively and vigorously at that your prison, nay, your hell. for whatever the efforts of all minds can contrive against the confusion of that impious court will be advantageous to you and to your welfare, and to many others with you. those who do harm to her are doing your office; those who in every way abhor her are glorifying christ; in short, those are christians who are not romans. but, to say yet more, even this never entered my heart: to inveigh against the court of rome or to dispute at all about her. for, seeing all remedies for her health to be desperate, i looked on her with contempt, and, giving her a bill of divorcement, said to her, "he that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he that is filthy, let him be filthy still," giving myself up to the peaceful and quiet study of sacred literature, that by this i might be of use to the brethren living about me. while i was making some advance in these studies, satan opened his eyes and goaded on his servant john eccius, that notorious adversary of christ, by the unchecked lust for fame, to drag me unexpectedly into the arena, trying to catch me in one little word concerning the primacy of the church of rome, which had fallen from me in passing. that boastful thraso, foaming and gnashing his teeth, proclaimed that he would dare all things for the glory of god and for the honour of the holy apostolic seat; and, being puffed up respecting your power, which he was about to misuse, he looked forward with all certainty to victory; seeking to promote, not so much the primacy of peter, as his own pre-eminence among the theologians of this age; for he thought it would contribute in no slight degree to this, if he were to lead luther in triumph. the result having proved unfortunate for the sophist, an incredible rage torments him; for he feels that whatever discredit to rome has arisen through me has been caused by the fault of himself alone. suffer me, i pray you, most excellent leo, both to plead my own cause, and to accuse your true enemies. i believe it is known to you in what way cardinal cajetan, your imprudent and unfortunate, nay unfaithful, legate, acted towards me. when, on account of my reverence for your name, i had placed myself and all that was mine in his hands, he did not so act as to establish peace, which he could easily have established by one little word, since i at that time promised to be silent and to make an end of my case, if he would command my adversaries to do the same. but that man of pride, not content with this agreement, began to justify my adversaries, to give them free licence, and to order me to recant, a thing which was certainly not in his commission. thus indeed, when the case was in the best position, it came through his vexatious tyranny into a much worse one. therefore whatever has followed upon this is the fault not of luther, but entirely of cajetan, since he did not suffer me to be silent and remain quiet, which at that time i was entreating for with all my might. what more was it my duty to do? next came charles miltitz, also a nuncio from your blessedness. he, though he went up and down with much and varied exertion, and omitted nothing which could tend to restore the position of the cause thrown into confusion by the rashness and pride of cajetan, had difficulty, even with the help of that very illustrious prince the elector frederick, in at last bringing about more than one familiar conference with me. in these i again yielded to your great name, and was prepared to keep silence, and to accept as my judge either the archbishop of treves, or the bishop of naumburg; and thus it was done and concluded. while this was being done with good hope of success, lo! that other and greater enemy of yours, eccius, rushed in with his leipsic disputation, which he had undertaken against carlstadt, and, having taken up a new question concerning the primacy of the pope, turned his arms unexpectedly against me, and completely overthrew the plan for peace. meanwhile charles miltitz was waiting, disputations were held, judges were being chosen, but no decision was arrived at. and no wonder! for by the falsehoods, pretences, and arts of eccius the whole business was brought into such thorough disorder, confusion, and festering soreness, that, whichever way the sentence might lean, a greater conflagration was sure to arise; for he was seeking, not after truth, but after his own credit. in this case too i omitted nothing which it was right that i should do. i confess that on this occasion no small part of the corruptions of rome came to light; but, if there was any offence in this, it was the fault of eccius, who, in taking on him a burden beyond his strength, and in furiously aiming at credit for himself, unveiled to the whole world the disgrace of rome. here is that enemy of yours, leo, or rather of your court; by his example alone we may learn that an enemy is not more baneful than a flatterer. for what did he bring about by his flattery, except evils which no king could have brought about? at this day the name of the court of rome stinks in the nostrils of the world, the papal authority is growing weak, and its notorious ignorance is evil spoken of. we should hear none of these things, if eccius had not disturbed the plans of miltitz and myself for peace. he feels this clearly enough himself in the indignation he shows, too late and in vain, against the publication of my books. he ought to have reflected on this at the time when he was all mad for renown, and was seeking in your cause nothing but his own objects, and that with the greatest peril to you. the foolish man hoped that, from fear of your name, i should yield and keep silence; for i do not think he presumed on his talents and learning. now, when he sees that i am very confident and speak aloud, he repents too late of his rashness, and sees--if indeed he does see it--that there is one in heaven who resists the proud, and humbles the presumptuous. since then we were bringing about by this disputation nothing but the greater confusion of the cause of rome, charles miltitz for the third time addressed the fathers of the order, assembled in chapter, and sought their advice for the settlement of the case, as being now in a most troubled and perilous state. since, by the favour of god, there was no hope of proceeding against me by force, some of the more noted of their number were sent to me, and begged me at least to show respect to your person and to vindicate in a humble letter both your innocence and my own. they said that the affair was not as yet in a position of extreme hopelessness, if leo x., in his inborn kindliness, would put his hand to it. on this i, who have always offered and wished for peace, in order that i might devote myself to calmer and more useful pursuits, and who for this very purpose have acted with so much spirit and vehemence, in order to put down by the strength and impetuosity of my words, as well as of my feelings, men whom i saw to be very far from equal to myself--i, i say, not only gladly yielded, but even accepted it with joy and gratitude, as the greatest kindness and benefit, if you should think it right to satisfy my hopes. thus i come, most blessed father, and in all abasement beseech you to put to your hand, if it is possible, and impose a curb to those flatterers who are enemies of peace, while they pretend peace. but there is no reason, most blessed father, why any one should assume that i am to utter a recantation, unless he prefers to involve the case in still greater confusion. moreover, i cannot bear with laws for the interpretation of the word of god, since the word of god, which teaches liberty in all other things, ought not to be bound. saving these two things, there is nothing which i am not able, and most heartily willing, to do or to suffer. i hate contention; i will challenge no one; in return i wish not to be challenged; but, being challenged, i will not be dumb in the cause of christ my master. for your blessedness will be able by one short and easy word to call these controversies before you and suppress them, and to impose silence and peace on both sides--a word which i have ever longed to hear. therefore, leo, my father, beware of listening to those sirens who make you out to be not simply a man, but partly a god, so that you can command and require whatever you will. it will not happen so, nor will you prevail. you are the servant of servants, and more than any other man, in a most pitiable and perilous position. let not those men deceive you who pretend that you are lord of the world; who will not allow any one to be a christian without your authority; who babble of your having power over heaven, hell, and purgatory. these men are your enemies and are seeking your soul to destroy it, as isaiah says, "my people, they that call thee blessed are themselves deceiving thee." they are in error who raise you above councils and the universal church; they are in error who attribute to you alone the right of interpreting scripture. all these men are seeking to set up their own impieties in the church under your name, and alas! satan has gained much through them in the time of your predecessors. in brief, trust not in any who exalt you, but in those who humiliate you. for this is the judgment of god: "he hath cast down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble." see how unlike christ was to his successors, though all will have it that they are his vicars. i fear that in truth very many of them have been in too serious a sense his vicars, for a vicar represents a prince who is absent. now if a pontiff rules while christ is absent and does not dwell in his heart, what else is he but a vicar of christ? and then what is that church but a multitude without christ? what indeed is such a vicar but antichrist and an idol? how much more rightly did the apostles speak, who call themselves servants of a present christ, not the vicars of an absent one! perhaps i am shamelessly bold in seeming to teach so great a head, by whom all men ought to be taught, and from whom, as those plagues of yours boast, the thrones of judges receive their sentence; but i imitate st. bernard in his book concerning considerations addressed to eugenius, a book which ought to be known by heart by every pontiff. i do this, not from any desire to teach, but as a duty, from that simple and faithful solicitude which teaches us to be anxious for all that is safe for our neighbours, and does not allow considerations of worthiness or unworthiness to be entertained, being intent only on the dangers or advantage of others. for since i know that your blessedness is driven and tossed by the waves at rome, so that the depths of the sea press on you with infinite perils, and that you are labouring under such a condition of misery that you need even the least help from any the least brother, i do not seem to myself to be acting unsuitably if i forget your majesty till i shall have fulfilled the office of charity. i will not flatter in so serious and perilous a matter; and if in this you do not see that i am your friend and most thoroughly your subject, there is one to see and judge. in fine, that i may not approach you empty-handed, blessed father, i bring with me this little treatise, published under your name, as a good omen of the establishment of peace and of good hope. by this you may perceive in what pursuits i should prefer and be able to occupy myself to more profit, if i were allowed, or had been hitherto allowed, by your impious flatterers. it is a small matter, if you look to its exterior, but, unless i mistake, it is a summary of the christian life put together in small compass, if you apprehend its meaning. i, in my poverty, have no other present to make you, nor do you need anything else than to be enriched by a spiritual gift. i commend myself to your paternity and blessedness, whom may the lord jesus preserve for ever. amen. wittenberg, th september, . concerning christian liberty christian faith has appeared to many an easy thing; nay, not a few even reckon it among the social virtues, as it were; and this they do because they have not made proof of it experimentally, and have never tasted of what efficacy it is. for it is not possible for any man to write well about it, or to understand well what is rightly written, who has not at some time tasted of its spirit, under the pressure of tribulation; while he who has tasted of it, even to a very small extent, can never write, speak, think, or hear about it sufficiently. for it is a living fountain, springing up into eternal life, as christ calls it in john iv. now, though i cannot boast of my abundance, and though i know how poorly i am furnished, yet i hope that, after having been vexed by various temptations, i have attained some little drop of faith, and that i can speak of this matter, if not with more elegance, certainly with more solidity, than those literal and too subtle disputants who have hitherto discoursed upon it without understanding their own words. that i may open then an easier way for the ignorant--for these alone i am trying to serve--i first lay down these two propositions, concerning spiritual liberty and servitude:-- a christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one. although these statements appear contradictory, yet, when they are found to agree together, they will make excellently for my purpose. they are both the statements of paul himself, who says, "though i be free from all men, yet have i made myself servant unto all" ( cor. ix. ), and "owe no man anything, but to love one another" (rom. xiii. ). now love is by its own nature dutiful and obedient to the beloved object. thus even christ, though lord of all things, was yet made of a woman; made under the law; at once free and a servant; at once in the form of god and in the form of a servant. let us examine the subject on a deeper and less simple principle. man is composed of a twofold nature, a spiritual and a bodily. as regards the spiritual nature, which they name the soul, he is called the spiritual, inward, new man; as regards the bodily nature, which they name the flesh, he is called the fleshly, outward, old man. the apostle speaks of this: "though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day" ( cor. iv. ). the result of this diversity is that in the scriptures opposing statements are made concerning the same man, the fact being that in the same man these two men are opposed to one another; the flesh lusting against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh (gal. v. ). we first approach the subject of the inward man, that we may see by what means a man becomes justified, free, and a true christian; that is, a spiritual, new, and inward man. it is certain that absolutely none among outward things, under whatever name they may be reckoned, has any influence in producing christian righteousness or liberty, nor, on the other hand, unrighteousness or slavery. this can be shown by an easy argument. what can it profit the soul that the body should be in good condition, free, and full of life; that it should eat, drink, and act according to its pleasure; when even the most impious slaves of every kind of vice are prosperous in these matters? again, what harm can ill-health, bondage, hunger, thirst, or any other outward evil, do to the soul, when even the most pious of men and the freest in the purity of their conscience, are harassed by these things? neither of these states of things has to do with the liberty or the slavery of the soul. and so it will profit nothing that the body should be adorned with sacred vestments, or dwell in holy places, or be occupied in sacred offices, or pray, fast, and abstain from certain meats, or do whatever works can be done through the body and in the body. something widely different will be necessary for the justification and liberty of the soul, since the things i have spoken of can be done by any impious person, and only hypocrites are produced by devotion to these things. on the other hand, it will not at all injure the soul that the body should be clothed in profane raiment, should dwell in profane places, should eat and drink in the ordinary fashion, should not pray aloud, and should leave undone all the things above mentioned, which may be done by hypocrites. and, to cast everything aside, even speculation, meditations, and whatever things can be performed by the exertions of the soul itself, are of no profit. one thing, and one alone, is necessary for life, justification, and christian liberty; and that is the most holy word of god, the gospel of christ, as he says, "i am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me shall not die eternally" (john xi. ), and also, "if the son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed" (john viii. ), and, "man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of god" (matt. iv. ). let us therefore hold it for certain and firmly established that the soul can do without everything except the word of god, without which none at all of its wants are provided for. but, having the word, it is rich and wants for nothing, since that is the word of life, of truth, of light, of peace, of justification, of salvation, of joy, of liberty, of wisdom, of virtue, of grace, of glory, and of every good thing. it is on this account that the prophet in a whole psalm (psalm cxix.), and in many other places, sighs for and calls upon the word of god with so many groanings and words. again, there is no more cruel stroke of the wrath of god than when he sends a famine of hearing his words (amos viii. ), just as there is no greater favour from him than the sending forth of his word, as it is said, "he sent his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions" (psalm cvii. ). christ was sent for no other office than that of the word; and the order of apostles, that of bishops, and that of the whole body of the clergy, have been called and instituted for no object but the ministry of the word. but you will ask, what is this word, and by what means is it to be used, since there are so many words of god? i answer, the apostle paul (rom. i.) explains what it is, namely the gospel of god, concerning his son, incarnate, suffering, risen, and glorified, through the spirit, the sanctifier. to preach christ is to feed the soul, to justify it, to set it free, and to save it, if it believes the preaching. for faith alone and the efficacious use of the word of god, bring salvation. "if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the lord jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that god hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved" (rom. x. ); and again, "christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth" (rom. x. ), and "the just shall live by faith" (rom. i. ). for the word of god cannot be received and honoured by any works, but by faith alone. hence it is clear that as the soul needs the word alone for life and justification, so it is justified by faith alone, and not by any works. for if it could be justified by any other means, it would have no need of the word, nor consequently of faith. but this faith cannot consist at all with works; that is, if you imagine that you can be justified by those works, whatever they are, along with it. for this would be to halt between two opinions, to worship baal, and to kiss the hand to him, which is a very great iniquity, as job says. therefore, when you begin to believe, you learn at the same time that all that is in you is utterly guilty, sinful, and damnable, according to that saying, "all have sinned, and come short of the glory of god" (rom. iii. ), and also: "there is none righteous, no, not one; they are all gone out of the way; they are together become unprofitable: there is none that doeth good, no, not one" (rom. iii. - ). when you have learnt this, you will know that christ is necessary for you, since he has suffered and risen again for you, that, believing on him, you might by this faith become another man, all your sins being remitted, and you being justified by the merits of another, namely of christ alone. since then this faith can reign only in the inward man, as it is said, "with the heart man believeth unto righteousness" (rom. x. ); and since it alone justifies, it is evident that by no outward work or labour can the inward man be at all justified, made free, and saved; and that no works whatever have any relation to him. and so, on the other hand, it is solely by impiety and incredulity of heart that he becomes guilty and a slave of sin, deserving condemnation, not by any outward sin or work. therefore the first care of every christian ought to be to lay aside all reliance on works, and strengthen his faith alone more and more, and by it grow in the knowledge, not of works, but of christ jesus, who has suffered and risen again for him, as peter teaches ( peter v.) when he makes no other work to be a christian one. thus christ, when the jews asked him what they should do that they might work the works of god, rejected the multitude of works, with which he saw that they were puffed up, and commanded them one thing only, saying, "this is the work of god: that ye believe on him whom he hath sent, for him hath god the father sealed" (john vi. , ). hence a right faith in christ is an incomparable treasure, carrying with it universal salvation and preserving from all evil, as it is said, "he that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned" (mark xvi. ). isaiah, looking to this treasure, predicted, "the consumption decreed shall overflow with righteousness. for the lord god of hosts shall make a consumption, even determined (verbum abbreviatum et consummans), in the midst of the land" (isa. x. , ). as if he said, "faith, which is the brief and complete fulfilling of the law, will fill those who believe with such righteousness that they will need nothing else for justification." thus, too, paul says, "for with the heart man believeth unto righteousness" (rom. x. ). but you ask how it can be the fact that faith alone justifies, and affords without works so great a treasure of good things, when so many works, ceremonies, and laws are prescribed to us in the scriptures? i answer, before all things bear in mind what i have said: that faith alone without works justifies, sets free, and saves, as i shall show more clearly below. meanwhile it is to be noted that the whole scripture of god is divided into two parts: precepts and promises. the precepts certainly teach us what is good, but what they teach is not forthwith done. for they show us what we ought to do, but do not give us the power to do it. they were ordained, however, for the purpose of showing man to himself, that through them he may learn his own impotence for good and may despair of his own strength. for this reason they are called the old testament, and are so. for example, "thou shalt not covet," is a precept by which we are all convicted of sin, since no man can help coveting, whatever efforts to the contrary he may make. in order therefore that he may fulfil the precept, and not covet, he is constrained to despair of himself and to seek elsewhere and through another the help which he cannot find in himself; as it is said, "o israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thine help" (hosea xiii. ). now what is done by this one precept is done by all; for all are equally impossible of fulfilment by us. now when a man has through the precepts been taught his own impotence, and become anxious by what means he may satisfy the law--for the law must be satisfied, so that no jot or tittle of it may pass away, otherwise he must be hopelessly condemned--then, being truly humbled and brought to nothing in his own eyes, he finds in himself no resource for justification and salvation. then comes in that other part of scripture, the promises of god, which declare the glory of god, and say, "if you wish to fulfil the law, and, as the law requires, not to covet, lo! believe in christ, in whom are promised to you grace, justification, peace, and liberty." all these things you shall have, if you believe, and shall be without them if you do not believe. for what is impossible for you by all the works of the law, which are many and yet useless, you shall fulfil in an easy and summary way through faith, because god the father has made everything to depend on faith, so that whosoever has it has all things, and he who has it not has nothing. "for god hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all" (rom. xi. ). thus the promises of god give that which the precepts exact, and fulfil what the law commands; so that all is of god alone, both the precepts and their fulfilment. he alone commands; he alone also fulfils. hence the promises of god belong to the new testament; nay, are the new testament. now, since these promises of god are words of holiness, truth, righteousness, liberty, and peace, and are full of universal goodness, the soul, which cleaves to them with a firm faith, is so united to them, nay, thoroughly absorbed by them, that it not only partakes in, but is penetrated and saturated by, all their virtues. for if the touch of christ was healing, how much more does that most tender spiritual touch, nay, absorption of the word, communicate to the soul all that belongs to the word! in this way therefore the soul, through faith alone, without works, is from the word of god justified, sanctified, endued with truth, peace, and liberty, and filled full with every good thing, and is truly made the child of god, as it is said, "to them gave he power to become the sons of god, even to them that believe on his name" (john i. ). from all this it is easy to understand why faith has such great power, and why no good works, nor even all good works put together, can compare with it, since no work can cleave to the word of god or be in the soul. faith alone and the word reign in it; and such as is the word, such is the soul made by it, just as iron exposed to fire glows like fire, on account of its union with the fire. it is clear then that to a christian man his faith suffices for everything, and that he has no need of works for justification. but if he has no need of works, neither has he need of the law; and if he has no need of the law, he is certainly free from the law, and the saying is true, "the law is not made for a righteous man" ( tim. i. ). this is that christian liberty, our faith, the effect of which is, not that we should be careless or lead a bad life, but that no one should need the law or works for justification and salvation. let us consider this as the first virtue of faith; and let us look also to the second. this also is an office of faith: that it honours with the utmost veneration and the highest reputation him in whom it believes, inasmuch as it holds him to be truthful and worthy of belief. for there is no honour like that reputation of truth and righteousness with which we honour him in whom we believe. what higher credit can we attribute to any one than truth and righteousness, and absolute goodness? on the other hand, it is the greatest insult to brand any one with the reputation of falsehood and unrighteousness, or to suspect him of these, as we do when we disbelieve him. thus the soul, in firmly believing the promises of god, holds him to be true and righteous; and it can attribute to god no higher glory than the credit of being so. the highest worship of god is to ascribe to him truth, righteousness, and whatever qualities we must ascribe to one in whom we believe. in doing this the soul shows itself prepared to do his whole will; in doing this it hallows his name, and gives itself up to be dealt with as it may please god. for it cleaves to his promises, and never doubts that he is true, just, and wise, and will do, dispose, and provide for all things in the best way. is not such a soul, in this its faith, most obedient to god in all things? what commandment does there remain which has not been amply fulfilled by such an obedience? what fulfilment can be more full than universal obedience? now this is not accomplished by works, but by faith alone. on the other hand, what greater rebellion, impiety, or insult to god can there be, than not to believe his promises? what else is this, than either to make god a liar, or to doubt his truth--that is, to attribute truth to ourselves, but to god falsehood and levity? in doing this, is not a man denying god and setting himself up as an idol in his own heart? what then can works, done in such a state of impiety, profit us, were they even angelic or apostolic works? rightly hath god shut up all, not in wrath nor in lust, but in unbelief, in order that those who pretend that they are fulfilling the law by works of purity and benevolence (which are social and human virtues) may not presume that they will therefore be saved, but, being included in the sin of unbelief, may either seek mercy, or be justly condemned. but when god sees that truth is ascribed to him, and that in the faith of our hearts he is honoured with all the honour of which he is worthy, then in return he honours us on account of that faith, attributing to us truth and righteousness. for faith does truth and righteousness in rendering to god what is his; and therefore in return god gives glory to our righteousness. it is true and righteous that god is true and righteous; and to confess this and ascribe these attributes to him, this it is to be true and righteous. thus he says, "them that honour me i will honour, and they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed" ( sam. ii. ). and so paul says that abraham's faith was imputed to him for righteousness, because by it he gave glory to god; and that to us also, for the same reason, it shall be imputed for righteousness, if we believe (rom. iv.). the third incomparable grace of faith is this: that it unites the soul to christ, as the wife to the husband, by which mystery, as the apostle teaches, christ and the soul are made one flesh. now if they are one flesh, and if a true marriage--nay, by far the most perfect of all marriages--is accomplished between them (for human marriages are but feeble types of this one great marriage), then it follows that all they have becomes theirs in common, as well good things as evil things; so that whatsoever christ possesses, that the believing soul may take to itself and boast of as its own, and whatever belongs to the soul, that christ claims as his. if we compare these possessions, we shall see how inestimable is the gain. christ is full of grace, life, and salvation; the soul is full of sin, death, and condemnation. let faith step in, and then sin, death, and hell will belong to christ, and grace, life, and salvation to the soul. for, if he is a husband, he must needs take to himself that which is his wife's, and at the same time, impart to his wife that which is his. for, in giving her his own body and himself, how can he but give her all that is his? and, in taking to himself the body of his wife, how can he but take to himself all that is hers? in this is displayed the delightful sight, not only of communion, but of a prosperous warfare, of victory, salvation, and redemption. for, since christ is god and man, and is such a person as neither has sinned, nor dies, nor is condemned, nay, cannot sin, die, or be condemned, and since his righteousness, life, and salvation are invincible, eternal, and almighty,--when i say, such a person, by the wedding-ring of faith, takes a share in the sins, death, and hell of his wife, nay, makes them his own, and deals with them no otherwise than as if they were his, and as if he himself had sinned; and when he suffers, dies, and descends to hell, that he may overcome all things, and since sin, death, and hell cannot swallow him up, they must needs be swallowed up by him in stupendous conflict. for his righteousness rises above the sins of all men; his life is more powerful than all death; his salvation is more unconquerable than all hell. thus the believing soul, by the pledge of its faith in christ, becomes free from all sin, fearless of death, safe from hell, and endowed with the eternal righteousness, life, and salvation of its husband christ. thus he presents to himself a glorious bride, without spot or wrinkle, cleansing her with the washing of water by the word; that is, by faith in the word of life, righteousness, and salvation. thus he betrothes her unto himself "in faithfulness, in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving-kindness, and in mercies" (hosea ii. , ). who then can value highly enough these royal nuptials? who can comprehend the riches of the glory of this grace? christ, that rich and pious husband, takes as a wife a needy and impious harlot, redeeming her from all her evils and supplying her with all his good things. it is impossible now that her sins should destroy her, since they have been laid upon christ and swallowed up in him, and since she has in her husband christ a righteousness which she may claim as her own, and which she can set up with confidence against all her sins, against death and hell, saying, "if i have sinned, my christ, in whom i believe, has not sinned; all mine is his, and all his is mine," as it is written, "my beloved is mine, and i am his" (cant. ii. ). this is what paul says: "thanks be to god, which giveth us the victory through our lord jesus christ," victory over sin and death, as he says, "the sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law" ( cor. xv. , ). from all this you will again understand why so much importance is attributed to faith, so that it alone can fulfil the law and justify without any works. for you see that the first commandment, which says, "thou shalt worship one god only," is fulfilled by faith alone. if you were nothing but good works from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, you would not be worshipping god, nor fulfilling the first commandment, since it is impossible to worship god without ascribing to him the glory of truth and of universal goodness, as it ought in truth to be ascribed. now this is not done by works, but only by faith of heart. it is not by working, but by believing, that we glorify god, and confess him to be true. on this ground faith alone is the righteousness of a christian man, and the fulfilling of all the commandments. for to him who fulfils the first the task of fulfilling all the rest is easy. works, since they are irrational things, cannot glorify god, although they may be done to the glory of god, if faith be present. but at present we are inquiring, not into the quality of the works done, but into him who does them, who glorifies god, and brings forth good works. this is faith of heart, the head and the substance of all our righteousness. hence that is a blind and perilous doctrine which teaches that the commandments are fulfilled by works. the commandments must have been fulfilled previous to any good works, and good works follow their fulfillment, as we shall see. but, that we may have a wider view of that grace which our inner man has in christ, we must know that in the old testament god sanctified to himself every first-born male. the birthright was of great value, giving a superiority over the rest by the double honour of priesthood and kingship. for the first-born brother was priest and lord of all the rest. under this figure was foreshown christ, the true and only first-born of god the father and of the virgin mary, and a true king and priest, not in a fleshly and earthly sense. for his kingdom is not of this world; it is in heavenly and spiritual things that he reigns and acts as priest; and these are righteousness, truth, wisdom, peace, salvation, etc. not but that all things, even those of earth and hell, are subject to him--for otherwise how could he defend and save us from them?--but it is not in these, nor by these, that his kingdom stands. so, too, his priesthood does not consist in the outward display of vestments and gestures, as did the human priesthood of aaron and our ecclesiastical priesthood at this day, but in spiritual things, wherein, in his invisible office, he intercedes for us with god in heaven, and there offers himself, and performs all the duties of a priest, as paul describes him to the hebrews under the figure of melchizedek. nor does he only pray and intercede for us; he also teaches us inwardly in the spirit with the living teachings of his spirit. now these are the two special offices of a priest, as is figured to us in the case of fleshly priests by visible prayers and sermons. as christ by his birthright has obtained these two dignities, so he imparts and communicates them to every believer in him, under that law of matrimony of which we have spoken above, by which all that is the husband's is also the wife's. hence all we who believe on christ are kings and priests in christ, as it is said, "ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light" ( peter ii. ). these two things stand thus. first, as regards kingship, every christian is by faith so exalted above all things that, in spiritual power, he is completely lord of all things, so that nothing whatever can do him any hurt; yea, all things are subject to him, and are compelled to be subservient to his salvation. thus paul says, "all things work together for good to them who are the called" (rom. viii. ), and also, "whether life, or death, or things present, or things to come, all are yours; and ye are christ's" ( cor. iii. , ). not that in the sense of corporeal power any one among christians has been appointed to possess and rule all things, according to the mad and senseless idea of certain ecclesiastics. that is the office of kings, princes, and men upon earth. in the experience of life we see that we are subjected to all things, and suffer many things, even death. yea, the more of a christian any man is, to so many the more evils, sufferings, and deaths is he subject, as we see in the first place in christ the first-born, and in all his holy brethren. this is a spiritual power, which rules in the midst of enemies, and is powerful in the midst of distresses. and this is nothing else than that strength is made perfect in my weakness, and that i can turn all things to the profit of my salvation; so that even the cross and death are compelled to serve me and to work together for my salvation. this is a lofty and eminent dignity, a true and almighty dominion, a spiritual empire, in which there is nothing so good, nothing so bad, as not to work together for my good, if only i believe. and yet there is nothing of which i have need--for faith alone suffices for my salvation--unless that in it faith may exercise the power and empire of its liberty. this is the inestimable power and liberty of christians. nor are we only kings and the freest of all men, but also priests for ever, a dignity far higher than kingship, because by that priesthood we are worthy to appear before god, to pray for others, and to teach one another mutually the things which are of god. for these are the duties of priests, and they cannot possibly be permitted to any unbeliever. christ has obtained for us this favour, if we believe in him: that just as we are his brethren and co-heirs and fellow-kings with him, so we should be also fellow-priests with him, and venture with confidence, through the spirit of faith, to come into the presence of god, and cry, "abba, father!" and to pray for one another, and to do all things which we see done and figured in the visible and corporeal office of priesthood. but to an unbelieving person nothing renders service or work for good. he himself is in servitude to all things, and all things turn out for evil to him, because he uses all things in an impious way for his own advantage, and not for the glory of god. and thus he is not a priest, but a profane person, whose prayers are turned into sin, nor does he ever appear in the presence of god, because god does not hear sinners. who then can comprehend the loftiness of that christian dignity which, by its royal power, rules over all things, even over death, life, and sin, and, by its priestly glory, is all-powerful with god, since god does what he himself seeks and wishes, as it is written, "he will fulfil the desire of them that fear him; he also will hear their cry, and will save them"? (psalm cxlv. ). this glory certainly cannot be attained by any works, but by faith only. from these considerations any one may clearly see how a christian man is free from all things; so that he needs no works in order to be justified and saved, but receives these gifts in abundance from faith alone. nay, were he so foolish as to pretend to be justified, set free, saved, and made a christian, by means of any good work, he would immediately lose faith, with all its benefits. such folly is prettily represented in the fable where a dog, running along in the water and carrying in his mouth a real piece of meat, is deceived by the reflection of the meat in the water, and, in trying with open mouth to seize it, loses the meat and its image at the same time. here you will ask, "if all who are in the church are priests, by what character are those whom we now call priests to be distinguished from the laity?" i reply, by the use of these words, "priest," "clergy," "spiritual person," "ecclesiastic," an injustice has been done, since they have been transferred from the remaining body of christians to those few who are now, by hurtful custom, called ecclesiastics. for holy scripture makes no distinction between them, except that those who are now boastfully called popes, bishops, and lords, it calls ministers, servants, and stewards, who are to serve the rest in the ministry of the word, for teaching the faith of christ and the liberty of believers. for though it is true that we are all equally priests, yet we cannot, nor, if we could, ought we all to, minister and teach publicly. thus paul says, "let a man so account of us as of the ministers of christ and stewards of the mysteries of god" ( cor. iv. ). this bad system has now issued in such a pompous display of power and such a terrible tyranny that no earthly government can be compared to it, as if the laity were something else than christians. through this perversion of things it has happened that the knowledge of christian grace, of faith, of liberty, and altogether of christ, has utterly perished, and has been succeeded by an intolerable bondage to human works and laws; and, according to the lamentations of jeremiah, we have become the slaves of the vilest men on earth, who abuse our misery to all the disgraceful and ignominious purposes of their own will. returning to the subject which we had begun, i think it is made clear by these considerations that it is not sufficient, nor a christian course, to preach the works, life, and words of christ in a historic manner, as facts which it suffices to know as an example how to frame our life, as do those who are now held the best preachers, and much less so to keep silence altogether on these things and to teach in their stead the laws of men and the decrees of the fathers. there are now not a few persons who preach and read about christ with the object of moving the human affections to sympathise with christ, to indignation against the jews, and other childish and womanish absurdities of that kind. now preaching ought to have the object of promoting faith in him, so that he may not only be christ, but a christ for you and for me, and that what is said of him, and what he is called, may work in us. and this faith is produced and is maintained by preaching why christ came, what he has brought us and given to us, and to what profit and advantage he is to be received. this is done when the christian liberty which we have from christ himself is rightly taught, and we are shown in what manner all we christians are kings and priests, and how we are lords of all things, and may be confident that whatever we do in the presence of god is pleasing and acceptable to him. whose heart would not rejoice in its inmost core at hearing these things? whose heart, on receiving so great a consolation, would not become sweet with the love of christ, a love to which it can never attain by any laws or works? who can injure such a heart, or make it afraid? if the consciousness of sin or the horror of death rush in upon it, it is prepared to hope in the lord, and is fearless of such evils, and undisturbed, until it shall look down upon its enemies. for it believes that the righteousness of christ is its own, and that its sin is no longer its own, but that of christ; but, on account of its faith in christ, all its sin must needs be swallowed up from before the face of the righteousness of christ, as i have said above. it learns, too, with the apostle, to scoff at death and sin, and to say, "o death, where is thy sting? o grave, where is thy victory? the sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. but thanks be to god, which giveth us the victory through our lord jesus christ" ( cor. xv. - ). for death is swallowed up in victory, not only the victory of christ, but ours also, since by faith it becomes ours, and in it we too conquer. let it suffice to say this concerning the inner man and its liberty, and concerning that righteousness of faith which needs neither laws nor good works; nay, they are even hurtful to it, if any one pretends to be justified by them. and now let us turn to the other part: to the outward man. here we shall give an answer to all those who, taking offence at the word of faith and at what i have asserted, say, "if faith does everything, and by itself suffices for justification, why then are good works commanded? are we then to take our ease and do no works, content with faith?" not so, impious men, i reply; not so. that would indeed really be the case, if we were thoroughly and completely inner and spiritual persons; but that will not happen until the last day, when the dead shall be raised. as long as we live in the flesh, we are but beginning and making advances in that which shall be completed in a future life. on this account the apostle calls that which we have in this life the firstfruits of the spirit (rom. viii. ). in future we shall have the tenths, and the fullness of the spirit. to this part belongs the fact i have stated before: that the christian is the servant of all and subject to all. for in that part in which he is free he does no works, but in that in which he is a servant he does all works. let us see on what principle this is so. although, as i have said, inwardly, and according to the spirit, a man is amply enough justified by faith, having all that he requires to have, except that this very faith and abundance ought to increase from day to day, even till the future life, still he remains in this mortal life upon earth, in which it is necessary that he should rule his own body and have intercourse with men. here then works begin; here he must not take his ease; here he must give heed to exercise his body by fastings, watchings, labour, and other regular discipline, so that it may be subdued to the spirit, and obey and conform itself to the inner man and faith, and not rebel against them nor hinder them, as is its nature to do if it is not kept under. for the inner man, being conformed to god and created after the image of god through faith, rejoices and delights itself in christ, in whom such blessings have been conferred on it, and hence has only this task before it: to serve god with joy and for nought in free love. but in doing this he comes into collision with that contrary will in his own flesh, which is striving to serve the world and to seek its own gratification. this the spirit of faith cannot and will not bear, but applies itself with cheerfulness and zeal to keep it down and restrain it, as paul says, "i delight in the law of god after the inward man; but i see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin" (rom. vii. , ), and again, "i keep under my body, and bring it unto subjection, lest that by any means, when i have preached to others, i myself should be a castaway" ( cor. ix. ), and "they that are christ's have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts" (gal. v. ). these works, however, must not be done with any notion that by them a man can be justified before god--for faith, which alone is righteousness before god, will not bear with this false notion--but solely with this purpose: that the body may be brought into subjection, and be purified from its evil lusts, so that our eyes may be turned only to purging away those lusts. for when the soul has been cleansed by faith and made to love god, it would have all things to be cleansed in like manner, and especially its own body, so that all things might unite with it in the love and praise of god. thus it comes that, from the requirements of his own body, a man cannot take his ease, but is compelled on its account to do many good works, that he may bring it into subjection. yet these works are not the means of his justification before god; he does them out of disinterested love to the service of god; looking to no other end than to do what is well-pleasing to him whom he desires to obey most dutifully in all things. on this principle every man may easily instruct himself in what measure, and with what distinctions, he ought to chasten his own body. he will fast, watch, and labour, just as much as he sees to suffice for keeping down the wantonness and concupiscence of the body. but those who pretend to be justified by works are looking, not to the mortification of their lusts, but only to the works themselves; thinking that, if they can accomplish as many works and as great ones as possible, all is well with them, and they are justified. sometimes they even injure their brain, and extinguish nature, or at least make it useless. this is enormous folly, and ignorance of christian life and faith, when a man seeks, without faith, to be justified and saved by works. to make what we have said more easily understood, let us set it forth under a figure. the works of a christian man, who is justified and saved by his faith out of the pure and unbought mercy of god, ought to be regarded in the same light as would have been those of adam and eve in paradise and of all their posterity if they had not sinned. of them it is said, "the lord god took the man and put him into the garden of eden to dress it and to keep it" (gen. ii. ). now adam had been created by god just and righteous, so that he could not have needed to be justified and made righteous by keeping the garden and working in it; but, that he might not be unemployed, god gave him the business of keeping and cultivating paradise. these would have indeed been works of perfect freedom, being done for no object but that of pleasing god, and not in order to obtain justification, which he already had to the full, and which would have been innate in us all. so it is with the works of a believer. being by his faith replaced afresh in paradise and created anew, he does not need works for his justification, but that he may not be idle, but may exercise his own body and preserve it. his works are to be done freely, with the sole object of pleasing god. only we are not yet fully created anew in perfect faith and love; these require to be increased, not, however, through works, but through themselves. a bishop, when he consecrates a church, confirms children, or performs any other duty of his office, is not consecrated as bishop by these works; nay, unless he had been previously consecrated as bishop, not one of those works would have any validity; they would be foolish, childish, and ridiculous. thus a christian, being consecrated by his faith, does good works; but he is not by these works made a more sacred person, or more a christian. that is the effect of faith alone; nay, unless he were previously a believer and a christian, none of his works would have any value at all; they would really be impious and damnable sins. true, then, are these two sayings: "good works do not make a good man, but a good man does good works"; "bad works do not make a bad man, but a bad man does bad works." thus it is always necessary that the substance or person should be good before any good works can be done, and that good works should follow and proceed from a good person. as christ says, "a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit" (matt. vii. ). now it is clear that the fruit does not bear the tree, nor does the tree grow on the fruit; but, on the contrary, the trees bear the fruit, and the fruit grows on the trees. as then trees must exist before their fruit, and as the fruit does not make the tree either good or bad, but on the contrary, a tree of either kind produces fruit of the same kind, so must first the person of the man be good or bad before he can do either a good or a bad work; and his works do not make him bad or good, but he himself makes his works either bad or good. we may see the same thing in all handicrafts. a bad or good house does not make a bad or good builder, but a good or bad builder makes a good or bad house. and in general no work makes the workman such as it is itself; but the workman makes the work such as he is himself. such is the case, too, with the works of men. such as the man himself is, whether in faith or in unbelief, such is his work: good if it be done in faith; bad if in unbelief. but the converse is not true that, such as the work is, such the man becomes in faith or in unbelief. for as works do not make a believing man, so neither do they make a justified man; but faith, as it makes a man a believer and justified, so also it makes his works good. since then works justify no man, but a man must be justified before he can do any good work, it is most evident that it is faith alone which, by the mere mercy of god through christ, and by means of his word, can worthily and sufficiently justify and save the person; and that a christian man needs no work, no law, for his salvation; for by faith he is free from all law, and in perfect freedom does gratuitously all that he does, seeking nothing either of profit or of salvation--since by the grace of god he is already saved and rich in all things through his faith--but solely that which is well-pleasing to god. so, too, no good work can profit an unbeliever to justification and salvation; and, on the other hand, no evil work makes him an evil and condemned person, but that unbelief, which makes the person and the tree bad, makes his works evil and condemned. wherefore, when any man is made good or bad, this does not arise from his works, but from his faith or unbelief, as the wise man says, "the beginning of sin is to fall away from god"; that is, not to believe. paul says, "he that cometh to god must believe" (heb. xi. ); and christ says the same thing: "either make the tree good and his fruit good; or else make the tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt" (matt. xii. ),--as much as to say, he who wishes to have good fruit will begin with the tree, and plant a good one; even so he who wishes to do good works must begin, not by working, but by believing, since it is this which makes the person good. for nothing makes the person good but faith, nor bad but unbelief. it is certainly true that, in the sight of men, a man becomes good or evil by his works; but here "becoming" means that it is thus shown and recognised who is good or evil, as christ says, "by their fruits ye shall know them" (matt. vii. ). but all this stops at appearances and externals; and in this matter very many deceive themselves, when they presume to write and teach that we are to be justified by good works, and meanwhile make no mention even of faith, walking in their own ways, ever deceived and deceiving, going from bad to worse, blind leaders of the blind, wearying themselves with many works, and yet never attaining to true righteousness, of whom paul says, "having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, ever learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth" ( tim. iii. , ). he then who does not wish to go astray, with these blind ones, must look further than to the works of the law or the doctrine of works; nay, must turn away his sight from works, and look to the person, and to the manner in which it may be justified. now it is justified and saved, not by works or laws, but by the word of god--that is, by the promise of his grace--so that the glory may be to the divine majesty, which has saved us who believe, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy, by the word of his grace. from all this it is easy to perceive on what principle good works are to be cast aside or embraced, and by what rule all teachings put forth concerning works are to be understood. for if works are brought forward as grounds of justification, and are done under the false persuasion that we can pretend to be justified by them, they lay on us the yoke of necessity, and extinguish liberty along with faith, and by this very addition to their use they become no longer good, but really worthy of condemnation. for such works are not free, but blaspheme the grace of god, to which alone it belongs to justify and save through faith. works cannot accomplish this, and yet, with impious presumption, through our folly, they take it on themselves to do so; and thus break in with violence upon the office and glory of grace. we do not then reject good works; nay, we embrace them and teach them in the highest degree. it is not on their own account that we condemn them, but on account of this impious addition to them and the perverse notion of seeking justification by them. these things cause them to be only good in outward show, but in reality not good, since by them men are deceived and deceive others, like ravening wolves in sheep's clothing. now this leviathan, this perverted notion about works, is invincible when sincere faith is wanting. for those sanctified doers of works cannot but hold it till faith, which destroys it, comes and reigns in the heart. nature cannot expel it by her own power; nay, cannot even see it for what it is, but considers it as a most holy will. and when custom steps in besides, and strengthens this pravity of nature, as has happened by means of impious teachers, then the evil is incurable, and leads astray multitudes to irreparable ruin. therefore, though it is good to preach and write about penitence, confession, and satisfaction, yet if we stop there, and do not go on to teach faith, such teaching is without doubt deceitful and devilish. for christ, speaking by his servant john, not only said, "repent ye," but added, "for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (matt. iii. ). for not one word of god only, but both, should be preached; new and old things should be brought out of the treasury, as well the voice of the law as the word of grace. the voice of the law should be brought forward, that men may be terrified and brought to a knowledge of their sins, and thence be converted to penitence and to a better manner of life. but we must not stop here; that would be to wound only and not to bind up, to strike and not to heal, to kill and not to make alive, to bring down to hell and not to bring back, to humble and not to exalt. therefore the word of grace and of the promised remission of sin must also be preached, in order to teach and set up faith, since without that word contrition, penitence, and all other duties, are performed and taught in vain. there still remain, it is true, preachers of repentance and grace, but they do not explain the law and the promises of god to such an end, and in such a spirit, that men may learn whence repentance and grace are to come. for repentance comes from the law of god, but faith or grace from the promises of god, as it is said, "faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of god" (rom. x. ), whence it comes that a man, when humbled and brought to the knowledge of himself by the threatenings and terrors of the law, is consoled and raised up by faith in the divine promise. thus "weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning" (psalm xxx. ). thus much we say concerning works in general, and also concerning those which the christian practises with regard to his own body. lastly, we will speak also of those works which he performs towards his neighbour. for man does not live for himself alone in this mortal body, in order to work on its account, but also for all men on earth; nay, he lives only for others, and not for himself. for it is to this end that he brings his own body into subjection, that he may be able to serve others more sincerely and more freely, as paul says, "none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. for whether we live, we live unto the lord; and whether we die, we die unto the lord" (rom. xiv. , ). thus it is impossible that he should take his ease in this life, and not work for the good of his neighbours, since he must needs speak, act, and converse among men, just as christ was made in the likeness of men and found in fashion as a man, and had his conversation among men. yet a christian has need of none of these things for justification and salvation, but in all his works he ought to entertain this view and look only to this object--that he may serve and be useful to others in all that he does; having nothing before his eyes but the necessities and the advantage of his neighbour. thus the apostle commands us to work with our own hands, that we may have to give to those that need. he might have said, that we may support ourselves; but he tells us to give to those that need. it is the part of a christian to take care of his own body for the very purpose that, by its soundness and well-being, he may be enabled to labour, and to acquire and preserve property, for the aid of those who are in want, that thus the stronger member may serve the weaker member, and we may be children of god, thoughtful and busy one for another, bearing one another's burdens, and so fulfilling the law of christ. here is the truly christian life, here is faith really working by love, when a man applies himself with joy and love to the works of that freest servitude in which he serves others voluntarily and for nought, himself abundantly satisfied in the fulness and riches of his own faith. thus, when paul had taught the philippians how they had been made rich by that faith in christ in which they had obtained all things, he teaches them further in these words: "if there be therefore any consolation in christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the spirit, if any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye my joy, that ye be like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others" (phil. ii. - ). in this we see clearly that the apostle lays down this rule for a christian life: that all our works should be directed to the advantage of others, since every christian has such abundance through his faith that all his other works and his whole life remain over and above wherewith to serve and benefit his neighbour of spontaneous goodwill. to this end he brings forward christ as an example, saying, "let this mind be in you, which was also in christ jesus, who, being in the form of god, thought it not robbery to be equal with god, but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death" (phil. ii. - ). this most wholesome saying of the apostle has been darkened to us by men who, totally misunderstanding the expressions "form of god," "form of a servant," "fashion," "likeness of men," have transferred them to the natures of godhead and manhood. paul's meaning is this: christ, when he was full of the form of god and abounded in all good things, so that he had no need of works or sufferings to be just and saved--for all these things he had from the very beginning--yet was not puffed up with these things, and did not raise himself above us and arrogate to himself power over us, though he might lawfully have done so, but, on the contrary, so acted in labouring, working, suffering, and dying, as to be like the rest of men, and no otherwise than a man in fashion and in conduct, as if he were in want of all things and had nothing of the form of god; and yet all this he did for our sakes, that he might serve us, and that all the works he should do under that form of a servant might become ours. thus a christian, like christ his head, being full and in abundance through his faith, ought to be content with this form of god, obtained by faith; except that, as i have said, he ought to increase this faith till it be perfected. for this faith is his life, justification, and salvation, preserving his person itself and making it pleasing to god, and bestowing on him all that christ has, as i have said above, and as paul affirms: "the life which i now live in the flesh i live by the faith of the son of god" (gal. ii. ). though he is thus free from all works, yet he ought to empty himself of this liberty, take on him the form of a servant, be made in the likeness of men, be found in fashion as a man, serve, help, and in every way act towards his neighbour as he sees that god through christ has acted and is acting towards him. all this he should do freely, and with regard to nothing but the good pleasure of god, and he should reason thus:-- lo! my god, without merit on my part, of his pure and free mercy, has given to me, an unworthy, condemned, and contemptible creature all the riches of justification and salvation in christ, so that i no longer am in want of anything, except of faith to believe that this is so. for such a father, then, who has overwhelmed me with these inestimable riches of his, why should i not freely, cheerfully, and with my whole heart, and from voluntary zeal, do all that i know will be pleasing to him and acceptable in his sight? i will therefore give myself as a sort of christ, to my neighbour, as christ has given himself to me; and will do nothing in this life except what i see will be needful, advantageous, and wholesome for my neighbour, since by faith i abound in all good things in christ. thus from faith flow forth love and joy in the lord, and from love a cheerful, willing, free spirit, disposed to serve our neighbour voluntarily, without taking any account of gratitude or ingratitude, praise or blame, gain or loss. its object is not to lay men under obligations, nor does it distinguish between friends and enemies, or look to gratitude or ingratitude, but most freely and willingly spends itself and its goods, whether it loses them through ingratitude, or gains goodwill. for thus did its father, distributing all things to all men abundantly and freely, making his sun to rise upon the just and the unjust. thus, too, the child does and endures nothing except from the free joy with which it delights through christ in god, the giver of such great gifts. you see, then, that, if we recognize those great and precious gifts, as peter says, which have been given to us, love is quickly diffused in our hearts through the spirit, and by love we are made free, joyful, all-powerful, active workers, victors over all our tribulations, servants to our neighbour, and nevertheless lords of all things. but, for those who do not recognise the good things given to them through christ, christ has been born in vain; such persons walk by works, and will never attain the taste and feeling of these great things. therefore just as our neighbour is in want, and has need of our abundance, so we too in the sight of god were in want, and had need of his mercy. and as our heavenly father has freely helped us in christ, so ought we freely to help our neighbour by our body and works, and each should become to other a sort of christ, so that we may be mutually christs, and that the same christ may be in all of us; that is, that we may be truly christians. who then can comprehend the riches and glory of the christian life? it can do all things, has all things, and is in want of nothing; is lord over sin, death, and hell, and at the same time is the obedient and useful servant of all. but alas! it is at this day unknown throughout the world; it is neither preached nor sought after, so that we are quite ignorant about our own name, why we are and are called christians. we are certainly called so from christ, who is not absent, but dwells among us--provided, that is, that we believe in him and are reciprocally and mutually one the christ of the other, doing to our neighbour as christ does to us. but now, in the doctrine of men, we are taught only to seek after merits, rewards, and things which are already ours, and we have made of christ a taskmaster far more severe than moses. the blessed virgin beyond all others, affords us an example of the same faith, in that she was purified according to the law of moses, and like all other women, though she was bound by no such law and had no need of purification. still she submitted to the law voluntarily and of free love, making herself like the rest of women, that she might not offend or throw contempt on them. she was not justified by doing this; but, being already justified, she did it freely and gratuitously. thus ought our works too to be done, and not in order to be justified by them; for, being first justified by faith, we ought to do all our works freely and cheerfully for the sake of others. st. paul circumcised his disciple timothy, not because he needed circumcision for his justification, but that he might not offend or contemn those jews, weak in the faith, who had not yet been able to comprehend the liberty of faith. on the other hand, when they contemned liberty and urged that circumcision was necessary for justification, he resisted them, and would not allow titus to be circumcised. for, as he would not offend or contemn any one's weakness in faith, but yielded for the time to their will, so, again, he would not have the liberty of faith offended or contemned by hardened self-justifiers, but walked in a middle path, sparing the weak for the time, and always resisting the hardened, that he might convert all to the liberty of faith. on the same principle we ought to act, receiving those that are weak in the faith, but boldly resisting these hardened teachers of works, of whom we shall hereafter speak at more length. christ also, when his disciples were asked for the tribute money, asked of peter whether the children of a king were not free from taxes. peter agreed to this; yet jesus commanded him to go to the sea, saying, "lest we should offend them, go thou to the sea, and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth thou shalt find a piece of money; that take, and give unto them for me and thee" (matt. xvii. ). this example is very much to our purpose; for here christ calls himself and his disciples free men and children of a king, in want of nothing; and yet he voluntarily submits and pays the tax. just as far, then, as this work was necessary or useful to christ for justification or salvation, so far do all his other works or those of his disciples avail for justification. they are really free and subsequent to justification, and only done to serve others and set them an example. such are the works which paul inculcated, that christians should be subject to principalities and powers and ready to every good work (titus iii. ), not that they may be justified by these things--for they are already justified by faith--but that in liberty of spirit they may thus be the servants of others and subject to powers, obeying their will out of gratuitous love. such, too, ought to have been the works of all colleges, monasteries, and priests; every one doing the works of his own profession and state of life, not in order to be justified by them, but in order to bring his own body into subjection, as an example to others, who themselves also need to keep under their bodies, and also in order to accommodate himself to the will of others, out of free love. but we must always guard most carefully against any vain confidence or presumption of being justified, gaining merit, or being saved by these works, this being the part of faith alone, as i have so often said. any man possessing this knowledge may easily keep clear of danger among those innumerable commands and precepts of the pope, of bishops, of monasteries, of churches, of princes, and of magistrates, which some foolish pastors urge on us as being necessary for justification and salvation, calling them precepts of the church, when they are not so at all. for the christian freeman will speak thus: i will fast, i will pray, i will do this or that which is commanded me by men, not as having any need of these things for justification or salvation, but that i may thus comply with the will of the pope, of the bishop, of such a community or such a magistrate, or of my neighbour as an example to him; for this cause i will do and suffer all things, just as christ did and suffered much more for me, though he needed not at all to do so on his own account, and made himself for my sake under the law, when he was not under the law. and although tyrants may do me violence or wrong in requiring obedience to these things, yet it will not hurt me to do them, so long as they are not done against god. from all this every man will be able to attain a sure judgment and faithful discrimination between all works and laws, and to know who are blind and foolish pastors, and who are true and good ones. for whatsoever work is not directed to the sole end either of keeping under the body, or of doing service to our neighbour--provided he require nothing contrary to the will of god--is no good or christian work. hence i greatly fear that at this day few or no colleges, monasteries, altars, or ecclesiastical functions are christian ones; and the same may be said of fasts and special prayers to certain saints. i fear that in all these nothing is being sought but what is already ours; while we fancy that by these things our sins are purged away and salvation is attained, and thus utterly do away with christian liberty. this comes from ignorance of christian faith and liberty. this ignorance and this crushing of liberty are diligently promoted by the teaching of very many blind pastors, who stir up and urge the people to a zeal for these things, praising them and puffing them up with their indulgences, but never teaching faith. now i would advise you, if you have any wish to pray, to fast, or to make foundations in churches, as they call it, to take care not to do so with the object of gaining any advantage, either temporal or eternal. you will thus wrong your faith, which alone bestows all things on you, and the increase of which, either by working or by suffering, is alone to be cared for. what you give, give freely and without price, that others may prosper and have increase from you and your goodness. thus you will be a truly good man and a christian. for what to you are your goods and your works, which are done over and above for the subjection of the body, since you have abundance for yourself through your faith, in which god has given you all things? we give this rule: the good things which we have from god ought to flow from one to another and become common to all, so that every one of us may, as it were, put on his neighbour, and so behave towards him as if he were himself in his place. they flowed and do flow from christ to us; he put us on, and acted for us as if he himself were what we are. from us they flow to those who have need of them; so that my faith and righteousness ought to be laid down before god as a covering and intercession for the sins of my neighbour, which i am to take on myself, and so labour and endure servitude in them, as if they were my own; for thus has christ done for us. this is true love and the genuine truth of christian life. but only there is it true and genuine where there is true and genuine faith. hence the apostle attributes to charity this quality: that she seeketh not her own. we conclude therefore that a christian man does not live in himself, but in christ and in his neighbour, or else is no christian: in christ by faith; in his neighbour by love. by faith he is carried upwards above himself to god, and by love he sinks back below himself to his neighbour, still always-abiding in god and his love, as christ says, "verily i say unto you, hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of god ascending and descending upon the son of man" (john i. ). thus much concerning liberty, which, as you see, is a true and spiritual liberty, making our hearts free from all sins, laws, and commandments, as paul says, "the law is not made for a righteous man" ( tim. i. ), and one which surpasses all other external liberties, as far as heaven is above earth. may christ make us to understand and preserve this liberty. amen. finally, for the sake of those to whom nothing can be stated so well but that they misunderstand and distort it, we must add a word, in case they can understand even that. there are very many persons who, when they hear of this liberty of faith, straightway turn it into an occasion of licence. they think that everything is now lawful for them, and do not choose to show themselves free men and christians in any other way than by their contempt and reprehension of ceremonies, of traditions, of human laws; as if they were christians merely because they refuse to fast on stated days, or eat flesh when others fast, or omit the customary prayers; scoffing at the precepts of men, but utterly passing over all the rest that belongs to the christian religion. on the other hand, they are most pertinaciously resisted by those who strive after salvation solely by their observance of and reverence for ceremonies, as if they would be saved merely because they fast on stated days, or abstain from flesh, or make formal prayers; talking loudly of the precepts of the church and of the fathers, and not caring a straw about those things which belong to our genuine faith. both these parties are plainly culpable, in that, while they neglect matters which are of weight and necessary for salvation, they contend noisily about such as are without weight and not necessary. how much more rightly does the apostle paul teach us to walk in the middle path, condemning either extreme and saying, "let not him that eateth despise him that eateth not; and let not him which eateth not judge him that eateth" (rom. xiv. )! you see here how the apostle blames those who, not from religious feeling, but in mere contempt, neglect and rail at ceremonial observances, and teaches them not to despise, since this "knowledge puffeth up." again, he teaches the pertinacious upholders of these things not to judge their opponents. for neither party observes towards the other that charity which edifieth. in this matter we must listen to scripture, which teaches us to turn aside neither to the right hand nor to the left, but to follow those right precepts of the lord which rejoice the heart. for just as a man is not righteous merely because he serves and is devoted to works and ceremonial rites, so neither will he be accounted righteous merely because he neglects and despises them. it is not from works that we are set free by the faith of christ, but from the belief in works, that is from foolishly presuming to seek justification through works. faith redeems our consciences, makes them upright, and preserves them, since by it we recognise the truth that justification does not depend on our works, although good works neither can nor ought to be absent, just as we cannot exist without food and drink and all the functions of this mortal body. still it is not on them that our justification is based, but on faith; and yet they ought not on that account to be despised or neglected. thus in this world we are compelled by the needs of this bodily life; but we are not hereby justified. "my kingdom is not hence, nor of this world," says christ; but he does not say, "my kingdom is not here, nor in this world." paul, too, says, "though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh" ( cor. x. ), and "the life which i now live in the flesh i live by the faith of the son of god" (gal. ii. ). thus our doings, life, and being, in works and ceremonies, are done from the necessities of this life, and with the motive of governing our bodies; but yet we are not justified by these things, but by the faith of the son of god. the christian must therefore walk in the middle path, and set these two classes of men before his eyes. he may meet with hardened and obstinate ceremonialists, who, like deaf adders, refuse to listen to the truth of liberty, and cry up, enjoin, and urge on us their ceremonies, as if they could justify us without faith. such were the jews of old, who would not understand, that they might act well. these men we must resist, do just the contrary to what they do, and be bold to give them offence, lest by this impious notion of theirs they should deceive many along with themselves. before the eyes of these men it is expedient to eat flesh, to break fasts, and to do in behalf of the liberty of faith things which they hold to be the greatest sins. we must say of them, "let them alone; they be blind leaders of the blind" (matt. xv. ). in this way paul also would not have titus circumcised, though these men urged it; and christ defended the apostles, who had plucked ears of corn on the sabbath day; and many like instances. or else we may meet with simple-minded and ignorant persons, weak in the faith, as the apostle calls them, who are as yet unable to apprehend that liberty of faith, even if willing to do so. these we must spare, lest they should be offended. we must bear with their infirmity, till they shall be more fully instructed. for since these men do not act thus from hardened malice, but only from weakness of faith, therefore, in order to avoid giving them offence, we must keep fasts and do other things which they consider necessary. this is required of us by charity, which injures no one, but serves all men. it is not the fault of these persons that they are weak, but that of their pastors, who by the snares and weapons of their own traditions have brought them into bondage and wounded their souls when they ought to have been set free and healed by the teaching of faith and liberty. thus the apostle says, "if meat make my brother to offend, i will eat no flesh while the world standeth" ( cor. viii. ); and again, "i know, and am persuaded by the lord jesus, that there is nothing unclean of itself; but to him that esteemeth anything to be unclean, to him it is unclean. it is evil for that man who eateth with offence" (rom. xiv. , ). thus, though we ought boldly to resist those teachers of tradition, and though the laws of the pontiffs, by which they make aggressions on the people of god, deserve sharp reproof, yet we must spare the timid crowd, who are held captive by the laws of those impious tyrants, till they are set free. fight vigorously against the wolves, but on behalf of the sheep, not against the sheep. and this you may do by inveighing against the laws and lawgivers, and yet at the same time observing these laws with the weak, lest they be offended, until they shall themselves recognise the tyranny, and understand their own liberty. if you wish to use your liberty, do it secretly, as paul says, "hast thou faith? have it to thyself before god" (rom. xiv. ). but take care not to use it in the presence of the weak. on the other hand, in the presence of tyrants and obstinate opposers, use your liberty in their despite, and with the utmost pertinacity, that they too may understand that they are tyrants, and their laws useless for justification, nay that they had no right to establish such laws. since then we cannot live in this world without ceremonies and works, since the hot and inexperienced period of youth has need of being restrained and protected by such bonds, and since every one is bound to keep under his own body by attention to these things, therefore the minister of christ must be prudent and faithful in so ruling and teaching the people of christ, in all these matters, that no root of bitterness may spring up among them, and so many be defiled, as paul warned the hebrews; that is, that they may not lose the faith, and begin to be defiled by a belief in works as the means of justification. this is a thing which easily happens, and defiles very many, unless faith be constantly inculcated along with works. it is impossible to avoid this evil, when faith is passed over in silence, and only the ordinances of men are taught, as has been done hitherto by the pestilent, impious, and soul-destroying traditions of our pontiffs and opinions of our theologians. an infinite number of souls have been drawn down to hell by these snares, so that you may recognise the work of antichrist. in brief, as poverty is imperilled amid riches, honesty amid business, humility amid honours, abstinence amid feasting, purity amid pleasures, so is justification by faith imperilled among ceremonies. solomon says, "can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned?" (prov. vi. ). and yet as we must live among riches, business, honours, pleasures, feastings, so must we among ceremonies, that is among perils. just as infant boys have the greatest need of being cherished in the bosoms and by the care of girls, that they may not die, and yet, when they are grown, there is peril to their salvation in living among girls, so inexperienced and fervid young men require to be kept in and restrained by the barriers of ceremonies, even were they of iron, lest their weak minds should rush headlong into vice. and yet it would be death to them to persevere in believing that they can be justified by these things. they must rather be taught that they have been thus imprisoned, not with the purpose of their being justified or gaining merit in this way, but in order that they might avoid wrong-doing, and be more easily instructed in that righteousness which is by faith, a thing which the headlong character of youth would not bear unless it were put under restraint. hence in the christian life ceremonies are to be no otherwise looked upon than as builders and workmen look upon those preparations for building or working which are not made with any view of being permanent or anything in themselves, but only because without them there could be no building and no work. when the structure is completed, they are laid aside. here you see that we do not contemn these preparations, but set the highest value on them; a belief in them we do contemn, because no one thinks that they constitute a real and permanent structure. if any one were so manifestly out of his senses as to have no other object in life but that of setting up these preparations with all possible expense, diligence, and perseverance, while he never thought of the structure itself, but pleased himself and made his boast of these useless preparations and props, should we not all pity his madness and think that, at the cost thus thrown away, some great building might have been raised? thus, too, we do not contemn works and ceremonies--nay, we set the highest value on them; but we contemn the belief in works, which no one should consider to constitute true righteousness, as do those hypocrites who employ and throw away their whole life in the pursuit of works, and yet never attain to that for the sake of which the works are done. as the apostle says, they are "ever learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth" ( tim. iii. ). they appear to wish to build, they make preparations, and yet they never do build; and thus they continue in a show of godliness, but never attain to its power. meanwhile they please themselves with this zealous pursuit, and even dare to judge all others, whom they do not see adorned with such a glittering display of works; while, if they had been imbued with faith, they might have done great things for their own and others' salvation, at the same cost which they now waste in abuse of the gifts of god. but since human nature and natural reason, as they call it, are naturally superstitious, and quick to believe that justification can be attained by any laws or works proposed to them, and since nature is also exercised and confirmed in the same view by the practice of all earthly lawgivers, she can never of her own power free herself from this bondage to works, and come to a recognition of the liberty of faith. we have therefore need to pray that god will lead us and make us taught of god, that is, ready to learn from god; and will himself, as he has promised, write his law in our hearts; otherwise there is no hope for us. for unless he himself teach us inwardly this wisdom hidden in a mystery, nature cannot but condemn it and judge it to be heretical. she takes offence at it, and it seems folly to her, just as we see that it happened of old in the case of the prophets and apostles, and just as blind and impious pontiffs, with their flatterers, do now in my case and that of those who are like me, upon whom, together with ourselves, may god at length have mercy, and lift up the light of his countenance upon them, that we may know his way upon earth and his saving health among all nations, who is blessed for evermore. amen. in the year of the lord mdxx. the spanish brothers. the spanish brothers a·tale·of·the·sixteenth·century. [illustration: the alguazils producing their warrant for arrest. _page _] t. nelson and sons _london, edinburgh and new york._ the spanish brothers. a tale of the sixteenth century. _by the author of "the czar: a tale of the first napoleon." &c. &c._ * * * * * "thy loving-kindness is better than life." * * * * * london: t. nelson and sons, paternoster row. edinburgh; and new york. * * * * * . contents. i. boyhood, ii. the monk's letter, iii. sword and cassock, iv. alcala de henarez, v. don carlos forgets himself, vi. don carlos forgets himself still further, vii. the desengano, viii. the muleteer, ix. el dorado found, x. dolores, xi. the light enjoyed, xii. the light divided from the darkness, xiii. seville, xiv. the monks of san isodro, xv. the great sanbenito, xvi. welcome home, xvii. disclosures, xviii. the aged monk, xix. truth and freedom, xx. the first drop of a thunder shower, xxi. by the guadalquivir, xxii. the flood-gates opened, xxiii. the reign of terror, xxiv. a gleam of light, xxv. waiting, xxvi. don gonsalvo's revenge, xxvii. my brother's keeper, xxviii. reaping the whirlwind, xxix. a friend at court, xxx. the captive, xxxi. ministering angels, xxxii. the valley of the shadow of death, xxxiii. on the other side, xxxiv. fray sebastian's trouble, xxxv. the eve of the auto, xxxvi. "the horrible and tremendous spectacle," xxxvii. something ended and something begun, xxxviii. nuera again, xxxix. left behind, xl. "a satisfactory penitent," xli. more about the penitent, xlii. quiet days, xliii. el dorado found again, xliv. one prisoner set free, xlv. triumphant, xlvi. is it too late? xlvii. the dominican prior, xlviii. san isodro once more, xlix. farewell, the spanish brothers. i. boyhood. "a boy's will is the wind's will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." longfellow. on one of the green slopes of the sierra morena, shaded by a few cork-trees, and with wild craggy heights and bare brown wastes stretching far above, there stood, about the middle of the sixteenth century, a castle even then old and rather dilapidated. it had once been a strong place, but was not very spacious; and certainly, according to our modern ideas of comfort, the interior could not have been a particularly comfortable dwelling-place. a large proportion of it was occupied by the great hall, which was hung with faded, well-repaired tapestry, and furnished with oaken tables, settles, and benches, very elaborately carved, but bearing evident marks of age. narrow unglazed slits in the thick wall admitted the light and air; and beside one of these, on a gloomy autumn morning, two boys stood together, watching the rain that poured down without intermission. they were dressed exactly alike, in loose jackets of blue cloth, homespun, indeed, but so fresh and neatly-fashioned as to look more becoming than many a costlier dress. their long stockings were of silk, and their cuffs and wide shirt-frills of fine holland, carefully starched and plaited. the elder--a very handsome lad, who looked fourteen at least, but was really a year younger--had raven hair, black sparkling eager eyes, good but strongly-marked features, and a complexion originally dark, and well-tanned by exposure to sun and wind. a broader forehead, wider nostrils, and a weaker mouth, distinguished the more delicate-looking younger brother, whose hair was also less dark, and his complexion fairer. "rain--rain! will it rain for ever?" cried, in a tone of impatience, the elder, whose name was juan; or rather, his proper style and title (and very angry would he have felt had any part been curtailed or omitted) was don juan rodrigo alvarez de santillanos y menaya. he was of the purest blood in spain; by the father's side, of noblest castilian lineage; by the mother's, of an ancient asturian family. well he knew it, and proudly he held up his young head in consequence, in spite of poverty, and of what was still worse, the mysterious blight that had fallen on the name and fortunes of his house, bringing poverty in its train, as the least of its attendant evils. "'rising early will not make the daylight come sooner,' nor watching bring the sunshine," said the quick-witted carlos, who, apt in learning whatever he heard, was already an adept in the proverbial philosophy which was then, and is now, the inheritance of his race. "true enough. so let us fetch the canes, and have a merry play. or, better still, the foils for a fencing match." carlos acquiesced readily, though apparently without pleasure. in all outward things, such as the choice of pursuits and games, juan was the unquestioned leader; carlos never dreamed of disputing his fiat. yet in other, and really more important matters, it was carlos who, quite unconsciously to himself, performed the part of guide to his stronger-willed but less thoughtful brother. juan now fetched the carefully guarded foils with which the boys were accustomed to practise fencing; either, as now, simply for their own amusement, or under the instructions of the gray-haired diego, who had served with their father in the emperor's wars, and was now mayor-domo, butler, and seneschal, all in one. he it was, moreover, from whom carlos had learned his store of proverbs. "now stand up. oh, you are too low; wait a moment." juan left the hall again, but quickly returned with a large heavy volume, which he threw on the floor, directing his brother to take his stand upon it. carlos hesitated. "but what if the fray should catch us using our great horace after such a fashion?" "i just wish he might," answered juan, with a mischievous sparkle in his black eyes. the matter of height being thus satisfactorily adjusted, the game began, and for some time went merrily forward. to do the elder brother justice, he gave every advantage to his less active and less skilful companion; often shouting (with very unnecessary exertion of his lungs) words of direction or warning about fore-thrust, side-thrust, back-hand strokes, hitting, and parrying. at last, however, in an unlucky moment, carlos, through some awkward movement of his own in violation of the rules of the game, received a blow on the cheek from his brother's foil, severe enough to make the blood flow. juan instantly sprang forward, full of vexation, with an "ay de mi!" on his lips. but carlos turned away from him, covering his face with both hands; and juan, much to his disgust, soon heard the sound of a heavy sob. "you little coward!" he exclaimed, "to weep for a blow. shame--shame upon you." "coward yourself, to call me ill names when i cannot fight you," retorted carlos, as soon as he could speak for weeping. "that is ever your way, little tearful. _you_ to talk of going to find our father! a brave man you would make to sail to the indies and fight the savages. better sit at home and spin, with mother dolores." far too deeply stung to find a proverb suited to the occasion, or indeed to make any answer whatever, carlos, still in tears, left the hall with hasty footsteps, and took refuge in a smaller apartment that opened into it. the hangings of this room were comparatively new and very beautiful, being tastefully wrought with the needle; and the furniture was much more costly than that in the hall. there was also a glazed window, and near this carlos took his stand, looking moodily out on the falling rain, and thinking hard thoughts of his brother, who had first hurt him so sorely, then called him coward, and last, and far worst of all, had taunted him with his unfitness for the task which, child as he was, his whole heart and soul were bent on attempting. but he could not quarrel very seriously with juan, nor indeed could he for any considerable time do without him. before long his anger began to give way to utter loneliness and discomfort, and a great longing to "be friends" again. nor was juan much more comfortable, though he told himself he was quite right to reprove his brother sharply for his lack of manliness; and that he would be ready to die for shame if carlos, when he went to seville, should disgrace himself before his cousins by crying when he was hurt, like a baby or a girl. it is true that in his heart he rather wished he himself had held his peace, or at least had spoken more gently; but he braved it out, and stamped up and down the hall, singing, in as cheery a voice as he could command,-- "the cid rode through the horse-shoe gate, omega like it stood, a symbol of the moon that waned before the christian rood. he was all sheathed in golden mail, his cloak was white as shroud; his vizor down, his sword unsheathed, corpse still he rode, and proud." "ruy!" carlos called at last, just a little timidly, from the next room--"ruy!" ruy is the spanish diminutive of rodrigo, juan's second name, and the one by which, for reasons of his own, it pleased him best to be called; so the very use of it by carlos was a kind of overture for peace. juan came right gladly at the call; and having convinced himself, by a moment's inspection, that his brother's hurt signified nothing, he completed the reconciliation by putting his arm, in familiar boyish fashion, round his neck. thus, without a word spoken, the brief quarrel was at an end. it happened that the rain was over also, and the sun just beginning to shine out again. it was, indeed, an effect of the sunlight which had given carlos a pretext for calling juan again to his side. "look, ruy," he said, "the sun shines on our father's words!" these children had a secret of their own, carefully guarded, with the strange reticence of childhood, even from dolores, who had been the faithful nurse of their infancy, and who still cast upon their young lives the only shadow of motherly love they had ever known--a shadow, it is true, pale and faint, yet the best thing that had fallen to their lot: for even juan could remember neither parent; while carlos had never seen his father's face, and his mother had died at his birth. yet it happened that in the imaginary world which the children had created around them, and where they chiefly lived, their unknown father was by far the most important personage. all great nations in their childhood have their legends, their epics, written or unwritten, and their hero, one or many of them, upon whose exploits fancy rings its changes at will during the ages when national language, literature, and character are in process of development. so it is with individuals. children of imagination--especially if they are brought up in seclusion, and guarded from coarse and worldly companionship--are sure to have their legends, perhaps their unwritten epic, certainly their hero. nor are these dreams of childhood idle fancies. in their time they are good and beautiful gifts of god--healthful for the present, helpful for after-years. there is deep truth in the poets words, "when thou art a man, reverence the dreams of thy youth." the cid campeador, the charlemagne, and the king arthur of our youthful spanish brothers, was no other than don juan alvarez de menaya, second and last conde de nuera. and as the historical foundation of national romance is apt to be of the slightest--nay, the testimony of credible history is often ruthlessly set at defiance--so it is with the romances of children; nor did the present instance form any exception. all the world said that their father's bones lay bleaching on a wild araucanian battle-field; but this went for nothing in the eyes of juan and carlos alvarez. quite enough to build their childish faith upon was a confidential whisper of dolores--when she thought them sleeping--to the village barber-surgeon, who was helping her to tend them through some childish malady: "dead? would to all the saints, and the blessed queen of heaven, that we only had assurance of it!" they had, however, more than this. almost every day they read and re-read those mysterious words, traced with a diamond by their father's hand--as it never entered their heads to doubt--on the window of the room which had once been his favourite place of retirement:-- "el dorado yo hé trovado." "i have found el dorado." no eyes but their own had ever noticed this inscription; and marvellous indeed was the superstructure their fancy contrived to raise on the slight and airy foundation of its enigmatical five words. they had heard from the lips of diego many of the fables current at the period about the "golden country" of which spanish adventurers dreamed so wildly, and which they sought so vainly in the new world. they were aware that their father in his early days had actually made a voyage to the indies: and they had thoroughly persuaded themselves, therefore, of nothing less than that he was the fortunate discoverer of el dorado; that he had returned thither, and was reigning there as a king, rich and happy--only, perhaps, longing for his brave boys to come and join him. and join him one day they surely would, even though unheard of dangers (of which giants twelve feet high and fiery dragons--things in which they quite believed--were among the least) might lie in their way, thick as the leaves of the cork-trees when the autumn winds swept down through the mountain gorges. "look, ruy," said carlos, "the light is on our father's words!" "so it is! what good fortune is coming now? something always comes to us when they look like that." "what do you wish for most?" "a new bow, and a set of real arrows tipped with steel. and you?" "well--the 'chronicles of the cid,' i think." "i should like that too. but i should like better still--" "what?" "that fray sebastian would fall ill of the rheum, and find the mountain air too cold for his health; or get some kind of good place at his beloved complutum." "we might go farther and fare worse, like those that go to look for better bread than wheaten," returned carlos, laughing. "wish again, juan; and truly this time--your wish of wishes." "what else but to find my father?" "i mean, next to that." "well, truly, to go once more to seville, to see the shops, and the bull-fights, and the great church; to tilt with our cousins, and dance the cachuca with doña beatriz." "that would not i. there be folk that go out for wool, and come home shorn. though i like doña beatriz as well as any one." "hush! here comes dolores." a tall, slender woman, robed in black serge, relieved by a neat white head-dress, entered the room. dark hair, threaded with silver, and pale, sunken, care-worn features, made her look older than she really was. she had once been beautiful; and it seemed as though her beauty had been burned up in the glare of some fierce agony, rather than had faded gradually beneath the suns of passing years. with the silent strength of a deep, passionate heart, that had nothing else left to cling to, dolores loved the children of her idolized mistress and foster-sister. it was chiefly her talent and energy that kept together the poor remains of their fortune. she surrounded them with as many inexpensive comforts as possible; still, like a true spaniard, she would at any moment have sacrificed their comfort to the maintenance of their rank, or the due upholding of their dignity. on this occasion she held an open letter in her hand. "young gentlemen," she said, using the formal style of address no familiarity ever induced her to drop, "i bring your worships good tidings. your noble uncle, don manuel, is about to honour your castle with his presence." "good tidings indeed! i am as glad as if you had given me a satin doublet. he may take us back with him to seville," cried juan. "he might have stayed at home, with good luck and my blessing," murmured carlos. "whether you go to seville or no, señor don juan," said dolores, gravely, "may very probably depend on the contentment you give your noble uncle respecting your progress in your latin, your grammar, and your other humanities." "a green fig for my noble uncle's contentment!" said juan, irreverently. "i know already as much as any gentleman need, and ten times more than he does himself." "ay, truly," struck in carlos, coming forward from the embrasure of the window; "my uncle thinks a man of learning--except he be a fellow of college, perchance--not worth his ears full of water. i heard him say such only trouble the world, and bring sorrow on themselves and all their kin. so, juan, it is you who are likely to find favour in his sight, after all." "señor don carlos, what ails your face?" asked dolores, noticing now for the first time the marks of the hurt he had received. both the boys spoke together. "only a blow caught in fencing; all through my own awkwardness. it is nothing," said carlos, eagerly. "i hurt him with my foil. it was a mischance. i am very sorry," said juan, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. dolores wisely abstained from exhorting them to greater carefulness. she only said,-- "young gentlemen who mean to be knights and captains must learn to give hard blows and take them." adding mentally--"bless the lads! may they stand by each other as loyally ten or twenty years hence as they do now." ii. the monk's letter. "quoth the good fat friar, wiping his own mouth--'twas refection time." r. browning. fray sebastian gomez, to the honourable señor felipe de santa maria, licentiate of theology, residing at alcala de henarez, commonly called complutum. "most illustrious and reverend señor,-- "in my place of banishment, amidst these gloomy and inhospitable mountains, i frequently solace my mind by reflections upon the friends of my youth, and the happy period spent in those ancient halls of learning, where in the morning of our days you and i together attended the erudite prelections of those noble and most orthodox grecians, demetrius ducas and nicetus phaustus, or sat at the feet of that venerable patriarch of science, don fernando nuñez. fortunate are you, o friend, in being able to pass your days amidst scenes so pleasant and occupations so congenial; while i, unhappy, am compelled by fate, and by the neglect of friends and patrons, to take what i may have, in place of having what i might wish. i am, alas! under the necessity of wearing out my days in the ungrateful occupation of instilling the rudiments of humane learning into the dull and careless minds of children, whom to instruct is truly to write upon sand or water. but not to weary your excellent and illustrious friendship with undue prolixity, i shall briefly relate the circumstances which led to my sojourn here." (the good friar proceeds with his personal narrative, but by no means briefly; and as it has, moreover, little or nothing to do with our story, it may be omitted with advantage.) "in this desert, as i may truly style it" (he continues), "nutriment for the corporeal frame is as poor and bare as nutriment for the intellectual part is altogether lacking. alas! for the golden wine of xerez, that ambery nectar wherewith we were wont to refresh our jaded spirits! i may not mention now our temperate banquets: the crisp red mullet, the succulent pasties, the delicious ham of estremadura, the savoury olla podrida. here beef is rarely seen, veal never. our olla is of lean mutton (if it be not rather of the flesh of goats), washed down with bad vinegar, called wine by courtesy, and supplemented by a few naughty figs or roasted chestnuts, with cheese of goat's milk, hard as the heads of the rustics who make it. certainly i am experiencing the truth of the proverb, 'a bad cook is an inconvenient relation.' and marvellously would a cask of xerez wine, if, through the kindness of my generous friends, it could find its way to these remote mountains, mend my fare, and in all probability prolong my days. the provider here is an antiquated, sour-faced duenna, who rules everything in this old ruin of a castle, where poverty and pride are the only things to be found in plenty. she is an asturian, and came hither in the train of the late unfortunate countess. like all of that race, where the very shepherds style themselves nobles, she is proud; but it is just to add that she is also active, industrious, and thrifty to a miracle. "but to pass on to affairs of greater importance. i have presumed, on the part of my illustrious friend, some acquaintance with the sorrowful history of my young pupils' family. you will remember the sudden shadow that fell, like the eclipse of one of the bright orbs of heaven, upon the fame and fortunes of the conde de nuera, known, some fifteen years ago or more, as a brilliant soldier and courtier, and personal favourite of his imperial majesty. there was a rumour of some black treason, i know not what, but men said it even struck at the life of the great emperor, his friend and patron. it is supposed that the emperor (whom god preserve!), in his just wrath remembered mercy, and generously saved the honour, while he punished the crime, of his ungrateful servant. at all events, the world was told that the count had accepted a command in the indies, and that he sailed thither from some port in the low countries to which the emperor had summoned him, without returning to spain. it is believed that, to save his neck from the axe and his name from dire disgrace, he signed away, by his own act, his large property to the emperor and to holy church, reserving only a pittance for his children. one year afterwards, his death, in battle with the araucanian savages, was announced, and, if i am not mistaken, his majesty was gracious enough to have masses said for his soul. but, at the time, the tongue of rumour whispered a far more dreadful ending to the tale. men hinted that, upon the discovery of his treason, he despaired alike of human and divine compassion, and perished miserably by his own hand. but all possible pains were taken, for the sake of the family, to hush up the affair; and nothing certain has ever, or probably will ever, transpire. i am doubtful whether i am not a transgressor in having committed to paper what is written above. still, as it is written, it shall stand. with you, most illustrious and honourable friend, all things are safe. "the youths whom it is my task to instruct are not deficient in parts. but the elder, don juan, is idle and insolent; and withal, of so fiery a temper, that he will brook no manner of correction. the younger, don carlos, is more toward in disposition, and really apt at his humanities, were it not that his good-for-nothing brother is for ever leading him into mischief. don manuel alvarez, their uncle and guardian, who is a shrewd man of the world, will certainly cause him to enter the church. but i pray, as i am bound in christian charity, that it may not occur to him to make the lad a minorite friar, since, as i can testify from sorrowful experience, such go barely enough through this wicked and miserable world. "in conclusion, i entreat of you, most illustrious friend, with the utmost despatch and carefulness, to commit this writing to the flames; and so i pray our lady and the blessed st. luke, upon whose vigil i write, to have you in their good keeping.-- your unworthy brother, "sebastian." thus, with averted face, or head shaken doubtfully, or murmured "ay de mi," the world spoke of him, of whom his own children, happy at least in this, knew scarce anything, save words that seemed like a cry of joy. iii. sword and cassock. "the helmet and the cap make houses strong." spanish proverb. don manuel alvarez stayed for several days at nuera, as the half-ruined castle in the sierra morena was styled. grievous, during this period, were the sufferings of dolores, and unceasing her efforts to provide suitable accommodation, not merely for the stately and fastidious guest himself, but also for the troop of retainers he saw fit to bring with him, comprising three or four personal attendants, and half a score of men-at-arms--the last perhaps really necessary for a journey through that wild district. don manuel scarcely enjoyed the situation more than did his entertainers, but he esteemed it his duty to pay an occasional visit to the estate of his orphan nephews, to see that it was properly taken care of. perhaps the only member of the party quite at his ease was the worthy fray sebastian, a good-natured, self-indulgent friar, with a better education and more refined tastes than the average of his order; fond of eating and drinking, fond of gossip, fond of a little superficial literature, and not fond of troubling himself about anything. he was comforted by the improved fare don manuel's visit introduced; and was, moreover, soon relieved from his very natural apprehensions that the guardian of his pupils might express discontent at the slowness of their progress. he speedily discovered that don manuel did not care to have his nephews made good scholars: he only cared to have them ready, in two or three years, to go to the university of complutum, or to that of salamanca, where they might remain until they were satisfactorily provided for--one in the army, the other in the church. as for juan and carlos, they felt, with the sure instinct of children, in this respect something like that of animals, that their uncle had little love for them. juan dreaded, more than under the circumstances he need have done, too careful inquiries into his progress; and carlos, while he stood in great outward awe of his uncle, all the time contrived to despise him in his heart, because he neither knew latin, nor could repeat any of the ballads of the cid. on the third day of his visit, after dinner, which was at noon, don manuel solemnly seated himself in the great carved armchair that stood on the estrada at one end of the hall, and summoned his nephews to his side. he was a tall, wiry-looking man, with a narrow forehead, thin lips, and a pointed beard. his dress was of the finest mulberry-coloured cloth, turned back with velvet; everything about him was rich, handsome, and in good keeping, but without extravagance. his manner was dignified, perhaps a little pompous, like that of a man bent upon making the most of himself, as he had unquestionably made the most of his fortune. he first addressed juan, whom he gravely reminded that his father's _imprudence_ had left him nothing save that poor ruin of a castle, and a few barren acres of rocky ground, at which the boy's eyes flashed, and he shrugged his shoulders and bit his lip. don manuel then proceeded, at some length, to extol the noble profession of arms as the road to fame and fortune. this kind of language proved much more acceptable to his nephew, and looking up, he said promptly, "yes, señor my uncle, i will gladly be a soldier, as all my fathers were." "well spoken. and when thou art old enough, i promise to use my influence to obtain for thee a good appointment in his imperial majesty's army. i trust thou wilt honour thine ancient name." "you may trust me," said juan, in slow, earnest tones. then raising his head, he went on more rapidly: "beside his own name, juan, my father gave me that of rodrigo, borne by the cid ruy diaz, the campeador, meaning no doubt to show--" "peace, boy!" don miguel interrupted, cutting short the only words that his nephew had ever spoken really from his heart in his presence, with as much unconsciousness as a countryman might set his foot on a glow-worm. "thou wert never named rodrigo after thy cid and his idle romances. thy father called thee so after some madcap friend of his own, of whom the less spoken the better." "my father's friend must have been good and noble, like himself," said juan proudly, almost defiantly. "young man," returned don manuel severely, and lifting his eyebrows as if in surprise at his audacity, "learn that a humbler tone and more courteous manners would become thee in the presence of thy superiors." then turning haughtily away from him, he addressed himself to carlos: "as for thee, nephew carlos, i hear with pleasure of thy progress in learning. fray sebastian reports of thee that thou hast a good ready wit and a retentive memory. moreover, if i mistake not, sword cuts are less in thy way than in thy brother's. the service of holy mother church will fit thee like a glove; and let me tell thee, boy, for thou art old enough to understand me, 'tis a right good service. churchmen eat well and drink well--churchmen sleep soft--churchmen spend their days fingering the gold other folk toil and bleed for. for those who have fair interest in high places, and shuffle their own cards deftly, there be good fat benefices, comfortable canonries, and perhaps--who knows?--a rich bishopric at the end of all; with a matter of ten thousand hard ducats, at the least, coming in every year to save or spend, or lend, if you like it better." "ten thousand ducats!" said carlos, who had been gazing in his uncle's face, his large blue eyes full of half-incredulous, half-uncomprehending wonder. "ay, my son, that is about the least. the archbishop of seville has sixty thousand every year, and more." "ten thousand ducats!" carlos repeated again in a kind of awe-struck whisper. "that would buy a ship." "yes," said don manuel, highly pleased with what he considered an indication of precocious intelligence in money matters. "and an excellent thought that is of thine, my son. a good ship chartered for the indies, and properly freighted, would bring thee back thy ducats _well perfumed_.[ ] for a ship is sailing while you are sleeping. as the saying is, let the idle man buy a ship or marry a wife. i perceive thou art a youth of much ingenuity. what thinkest thou, then, of the church?" [ ] with good interest. carlos was still too much the child to say anything in answer except, "if it please you, señor my uncle, i should like it well." and thus, with rather more than less consideration of their tastes and capacities than was usual at the time, the future of juan and carlos alvarez was decided. when the brothers were alone together, juan said, "dolores must have been praying our lady for us, carlos. an appointment in the army is the very thing for me. i shall perform some great feat of arms, like alphonso vives, for instance, who took the duke of saxony prisoner; i shall win fame and promotion, and then come back and ask my uncle for the hand of his ward, doña beatriz." "ah, and i--if i enter the church, i can never marry," said carlos rather ruefully, and with a vague perception that his brother was to have some good thing from which he must be shut out for ever. "of course not; but you will not care." "never a whit," said the boy of twelve, very confidently. "i shall ever have thee, juan. and all the gold my uncle says churchmen win so easily, i will save to buy our ship." "i will also save, so that one day we may sail together. i will be the captain, and thou shalt be the mass-priest, carlos." "but i marvel if it be true that churchmen grow rich so fast. the cura in the village must be very poor, for diego told me he took old pedro's cloak because he could not pay the dues for his wife's burial." "more shame for him, the greedy vulture. carlos, you and i have each half a ducat; let us buy it back." "with all my heart. it will be worth something to see the old man's face." "the cura is covetous rather than poor," said juan. "but poor or no, no one dreams of _your_ being a beggarly cura like that. it is only vulgar fellows of whom they make parish priests in the country. you will get some fine preferment, my uncle says. and he ought to know, for he has feathered his own nest well." "why is he rich when we are poor, juan? where does he get all his money?" "the saints know best. he has places under government. something about the taxes. i think, that he buys and sells again." "in truth, he's not one to measure oil without getting some on his fingers. how different from him our father must have been." "yes," said juan. "_his_ riches, won by his own sword and battle-axe, and his good right hand, will be worth having. ay, and even worth seeing; will they not?" so these children dreamed of the future--that future of which nothing was certain, except its unlikeness to their dreams. no thing was certain; but what was only too probable? that the brave, free-hearted boy, who had never willingly injured any one, and who was ready to share his last coin with the poor man, would be hardened and brutalized into a soldier of fortune, like those who massacred tribes of trusting, unoffending indians, or burned flemish cities to the ground, amidst atrocities that even now make hearts quail and ears tingle. and yet worse, that the fair child beside him, whose life still shone with that child-like innocence which is truly the dew of youth, as bright and as fleeting, would be turned over, soul and spirit, to a system of training too surely calculated to obliterate the sense of truth, to deprave the moral taste, to make natural and healthful joys impossible, and unlawful and degrading ones fearfully easy and attainable; to teach the strong nature the love of power, the mean the love of money, and all alike falsehood, cowardice, and cruelty. iv. alcala de henarez. "give me back, give me back the wild freshness of morning, her tears and her smiles are worth evening's best light." moore. few are the lives in which seven years come and go without witnessing any great event. but whether they are eventful or no, the years that change children into men must necessarily be important. three years of these important seven, juan and carlos alvarez spent in their mountain home; the remaining four at the university of alcala, or complutum. the university training was of course needful for the younger brother, who was intended for the church. that the elder was allowed to share the privilege, although destined for the profession of arms, was the result of circumstances. his guardian, don manuel alvarez, although worldly and selfish, still retained a lingering regard for the memory of that lost brother whose latest message to him had been, "have my boy carefully educated." and, moreover, he could scarcely have left the high-spirited youth to wear out the years that must elapse before he could obtain his commission in the dreary solitude of his mountain home, with diego and dolores for companions, and for sole amusement, a horse and a few greyhounds. better that he should take his chance at alcala, and enjoy himself there as best he might, with no obligation to severe study, and but one duty strongly impressed on him--that of keeping out of debt. he derived real benefit from the university training, though no academic laurels rested on his brow, nor did he take a degree. fray sebastian had taught him to read and write, and had even contrived to pass him through the latin grammar, of which he afterwards remembered scarcely anything. to have urged him to learn more would have required severity only too popular at the time; but this fray sebastian was too timid, perhaps too prudent, to employ; while of interesting him in his studies he never thought. at alcala, however, he _was_ interested. he did not care, indeed, for the ordinary scholastic course; but he found in the college library all the books yet written in his native language, and it was then the palmy age of spanish literature. beginning with the poems and romances relating to the history of his country, he read through everything; poetry, romance, history, science, nothing came amiss to him, except perhaps theology. he studied with especial care all that had reference to the story of the new world, whither he hoped one day to go. he attended lectures; he even acquired latin enough to learn anything he really wanted to know, and could not find except in that language. thus, at the end of his four years' residence, he had acquired a good deal of useful though somewhat desultory information; and he had gained the art of expressing himself in the purest castilian, by tongue or pen, with energy, vigour, and precision. the sixteenth century gives us many specimens of such men--and not a few of them were spaniards--men of intelligence and general cultivation, whose profession was that of arms, but who can handle the pen with as much ease and dexterity as the sword; men who could not only do valiant deeds, but also describe them when done, and that often with singular effectiveness. with his contemporaries juan was popular, for his pride was inaggressive, and his fiery temper was counterbalanced by great generosity of disposition. during his residence at alcala he fought three duels; one to chastise a fellow-student who had called his brother "doña carlotta," the other two on being provoked by the far more serious offence of covert sneers at his father's memory. he also caned severely a youth whom he did not think of sufficient rank to honour with his sword, merely for observing, when carlos won a prize from him, "don carlos alvarez unites genius and industry, as he would need to do, who is the _son of his own good works_." but afterwards, when the same student was in danger, through poverty, of having to give up his career and return home, juan stole into his chamber during his absence, and furtively deposited four gold ducats (which he could ill spare) between the leaves of his breviary. far more outwardly successful, but more really disastrous, was the academic career of carlos. as student of theology, most of his days, and even some of his nights, were spent over the musty tomes of the schoolmen. like living water on the desert, his young bright intellect was poured out on the dreary sands of scholastic divinity (little else, in truth, than "bad metaphysics"), to no appreciable result, except its own utter waste. the kindred study of casuistry was even worse than waste of intellect; it was positive defilement and degradation. it was bad enough to tread with painful steps through roads that led nowhere; but it became worse when the roads were miry, and the mud at every step clung to the traveller's feet. though here the parallel must cease; for the moral defilement, alas! is most deadly and dangerous when least felt or heeded. fortunately, or unfortunately, according as we look on the things seen or the things not seen, carlos offered to his instructors admirable raw material out of which to fashion a successful, even a great churchman. he came to them a stripling of fifteen, innocent, truthful, affectionate. he had "parts," as they styled them, and singularly good ones. he had just the acute perception, the fine and ready wit, which enabled him to cut his way through scholastic subtleties and conceits with ease and credit. and, to do his teachers justice, they sharpened his intellectual weapon well, until its temper grew as exquisite as that of the scimitar of saladin, which could divide a gauze kerchief by the thread at a single blow. but how would it fare with such a weapon, and with him who, having proved no other, could wield only that, in the great conflict with the dragon that guarded the golden apples of truth? the question is idle, for truth was a luxury of which carlos was not taught to dream. to find truth, to think truth, to speak truth, to act truth, was not placed before him as an object worth his attainment. not the _true_, but the _best_, was always held up to him as the mark to be aimed at: the best for the church, the best for his family, the best for himself. he had much imagination, he was quick in invention and ready in expedients; good gifts in themselves, but very perilous where the sense of truth is lacking, or blunted. he was timid, as sensitive and reflective natures are apt to be, perhaps also from physical causes. and in those rough ages, the church offered almost the only path in which the timid man could not only escape infamy, but actually attain to honour. in her service a strong head could more than atone for weak nerves. power, fame, wealth, might be gained in abundance by the churchman without stirring from his cell or chapel, or facing a single drawn sword or loaded musket. always provided that his subtle, cultivated intellect could guide the rough hands that wielded the swords, or, better still, the crowned head that commanded them. there may have been even then at that very university (there certainly were a few years earlier), a little band of students who had quite other aims, and who followed other studies than those from which carlos hoped to reap worldly success and fame. these youths really desired to find the truth and to keep it; and therefore they turned from the pages of the fathers and the schoolmen to the scriptures in the original languages. but the "biblists," as they were called, were few and obscure. carlos did not, during his whole term of residence, come in contact with any of them. the study of hebrew, and even of greek, was by this time discouraged; the breath of calumny had blown upon it, linking it with all that was horrible in the eyes of spanish catholics, summed up in the one word, heresy. carlos never even dreamed of any excursion out of the beaten path marked out for him, and which he was travelling so successfully as to distance nearly all his competitors. both juan and carlos still clung fondly to their early dream; though their wider knowledge had necessarily modified some of its details. carlos, at least, was not quite so confident as he had once been about the existence of el dorado; but he was as fully determined as juan to search out the mystery of their father's fate, and either to clasp his living hand, or to stand beside his grave. the love of the brothers, and their trust in each other, had only strengthened with their years, and was beautiful to witness. occasional journeys to seville, and brief intervals of making holiday there, varied the monotony of their college life, and were not without important results. it was the summer of . the great carlos, so lately king and kaiser, had laid down the heavy burden of sovereignty, and would soon be on his way to pleasant san yuste, to mortify the flesh, and prepare for his approaching end, as the world believed; but in reality to eat, drink, and enjoy himself as well as his worn-out body and mind would allow him. just then our young juan, healthy, hearty, hopeful, and with the world before him, received the long wished-for appointment in the army of the new king of all the spains, don felipe segunde. the brothers have eaten their last temperate meal together, in their handsome, though not very comfortable, lodging at alcala. juan pushes away the wine-cup that carlos would fain have refilled, and toys absently with the rind of a melon. "carlos," he says, without looking his brother in the face, "remember that thing of which we spoke;" adding in lower and more earnest tones, "and so may god remember thee." "surely, brother. you have, however, little to fear." "little to fear!" and there was the old quick flash in the dark eyes. "because, forsooth, to spare my aunt's selfishness and my cousin's vanity, she must not be seen at dance, or theatre, or bull-feast? it is enough for her to show her face on the alameda or at mass to raise me up a host of rivals." "still, my uncle favours you; and doña beatriz herself will not be found of a different mind when you come home with your promotion and your glory, as you will, my ruy!" "then, brother, watch thou in my absence, and fail not to speak the right word at the right moment, as thou canst so well. so shall i hold myself at ease, and give my whole mind to the noble task of breaking the heads of all the enemies of my liege lord the king." then, rising from the table, he girt on his new toledo sword with its embroidered belt, threw over his shoulders his short scarlet cloak, and flung a gay velvet montero over his rich black curls. don carlos went out with him, and mounting the horses a lad from their country-home held in readiness, they rode together down the street and through the gate of alcala; don juan followed by many an admiring gaze, and many a hearty "vaya con dios,"[ ] from his late companions. [ ] go with god. v. don carlos forgets himself. "a fair face and a tender voice had made me mad and blind." e.b. browning. don carlos alvarez found alcala, after his brother's departure, insupportably dull; moreover, he had now almost finished his brilliant university career. as soon, therefore, as he could, he took his degree as licentiate of theology. he then wrote to inform his uncle of the fact; adding that he would be glad to spend part of the interval that must elapse before his ordination at seville, where he might attend the lectures of the celebrated fray constantino ponce de la fuente, professor of divinity in the college of doctrine in that city. but, in fact, a desire to fulfil his brother's last charge weighed more with him than an eagerness for further instruction; especially as rumours that his watchfulness was not unnecessary had reached his ears at alcala. he received a prompt and kind invitation from his uncle to make his house his home for as long a period as he might desire. now, although don manuel was highly pleased with the genius and industry of his younger nephew, the hospitality he extended to him was not altogether disinterested. he thought carlos capable of rendering what he deemed an essential service to a member of his own family. that family consisted of a beautiful, gay, frivolous wife, three sons, two daughters, and his wife's orphan niece, doña beatriz de lavella. the two elder sons were cast in their father's mould; which, to speak truth, was rather that of a merchant than of a cavalier. had he been born of simple parents in the flats of holland or the back streets of london, a vulgar hans or thomas, his tastes and capabilities might have brought him honest wealth. but since he had the misfortune to be don manuel alvarez, of the bluest blood in spain, he was taught to look on industry as ineffably degrading, and trade and commerce scarcely less so. only one species of trade, one kind of commerce, was open to the needy and avaricious, but proud grandee. unhappily it was almost the only kind that is really degrading--the traffic in public money, in places, and in taxes. "a sweeping rain leaving no food," such traffic was, in truth. the government was defrauded; the people, especially the poorer classes, were cruelly oppressed. no one was enriched except the greedy jobber, whose birth rendered him infinitely too proud to work, but by no means too proud to cheat and steal. don manuel the younger, and don balthazar alvarez, were ready and longing to tread in their father's footsteps. of the two pale-faced dark-eyed sisters, doña inez and doña sancha, one was already married, and the other had also plans satisfactory to her parents. but the person in the family who was not of it was the youngest son, don gonsalvo. he was the representative, not of his father, but of his grandfather; as we so often see types of character reproduced in the third generation. the first conde de nuera had been a wild soldier of fortune in the moorish wars, fierce and fiery, with strong unbridled passions. at eighteen, gonsalvo was his image; and there was scarcely any mischief possible to a youth of fortune in a great city, into which he had not already found his way. for two years he continued to scandalize his family, and to vex the soul of his prudent and decorous father. suddenly, however, a change came over him. he reformed; became quiet and regular in his conduct; gave himself up to study, making extraordinary progress in a very short time; and even showed what those around him called "a pious disposition." but these hopeful appearances passed as suddenly and as unaccountably as they came. after an interval of less than a year, he returned to his former habits, and plunged even more madly than ever into all kinds of vice and dissipation. his father resolved to procure him a commission, and send him away to the wars. but an accident frustrated his intentions. in those days, cavaliers of rank frequently sought the dangerous triumphs of the bull-ring. the part of matador was performed, not, as now, by hired bravos of the lowest class, but often by scions of the most honourable houses. gonsalvo had more than once distinguished himself in the bloody arena by courage and coolness. but he tempted his fate too often. upon one occasion he was flung violently from his horse, and then gored by the furious bull, whose rage had been excited to the utmost pitch by the cruel arts usually practised. he escaped with life, but remained a crippled invalid, apparently condemned for the rest of his days to inaction, weakness, and suffering. his father thought a good canonry would be a decent and comfortable provision for him, and pressed him accordingly to enter the church. but the invalided youth manifested an intense repugnance to the step; and don manuel hoped that the influence of carlos would help to overcome this feeling; believing that he would gladly endeavour to persuade his cousin that no way of life was so pleasant or so easy as that which he himself was about to adopt. the good nature of carlos led him to fall heartily into his uncle's plans. he really pitied his cousin, moreover, and gladly gave himself to the task of trying in every possible way to console and amuse him. but gonsalvo rudely repelled all his efforts. in his eyes the destined priest was half a woman, with no knowledge of a man's aims or a man's passions, and consequently no right to speak of them. "turn priest!" he said to him one day; "i have as good a mind to turn turk. nay, cousin, i am not pious--you may present my orisons to our lady with your own, if it so please you. perhaps she may attend to them better than to those i offered before entering the bull-ring on that unlucky day of st. thomas." carlos, though not particularly devout, was shocked by this language. "take care, cousin," he said; "your words sound rather like blasphemy." "and yours sound like the words of what you are, half a priest already," retorted gonsalvo. "it is ever the priest's cry, if you displease him, 'open heresy!' 'rank blasphemy!' and next, 'the holy office, and a yellow sanbenito.' i marvel it did not occur to your sanctity to menace me with that." the gentle-tempered carlos did not answer; a forbearance which further exasperated gonsalvo, who hated nothing so much as being, on account of his infirmities, borne with like a woman or a child. "but the saints help the churchmen," he went on ironically. "good simple souls, they do not know even their own business! else they would smell heresy close enough at hand. what doctrine does your fray constantino preach in the great church every feast-day, since they made him canon-magistral?" "the most orthodox and catholic doctrine, and no other," said carlos, roused, in his turn, by the attack upon his teacher; though he did not greatly care for his instructions, which turned principally upon subjects about which he had learned little or nothing in the schools. "but to hear thee discuss doctrine is to hear a blind man talking of colours." "if i be the blind man talking of colours, thou art the deaf prating of music," retorted his cousin. "come and tell me, if thou canst, what are these doctrines of thy fray constantino, and wherein they differ from the lutheran heresy? i wager my gold chain and medal against thy new velvet cloak, that thou wouldst fall thyself into as many heresies by the way as there are nuts in barcelona." allowing for gonsalvo's angry exaggeration, there was some truth in his assertion. once out of the region of dialectic subtleties, the champion of the schools would have become weak as another man. and he could not have expounded fray constantino's preaching;--because he did not understand it. "what, cousin!" he exclaimed, affronted in his tenderest part, his reputation as a theological scholar. "dost thou take me for a barefooted friar or a village cura? me, who only two months ago was crowned victor in a debate upon the doctrines taught by raymondus lullius!" but whatever chagrin carlos may have felt at finding himself utterly unable to influence gonsalvo, was soon effectually banished by the delight with which he watched the success of his diplomacy with doña beatriz. beatriz was almost a child in years, and entirely a child in mind and character. hitherto, she had been studiously kept in the background, lest her brilliant beauty should throw her cousins into the shade. indeed, she would probably have been consigned to a convent, had not her portion been too small to furnish the donative usually bestowed by the friends of a novice upon any really aristocratic establishment. "and pity would it have been," thought carlos, "that so fair a flower should wither in a convent garden." he made the most of the limited opportunities of intercourse which the ceremonious manners of the time and country afforded, even to inmates of the same house. he would stand beside her chair, and watch the quick flush mount to her olive, delicately-rounded cheek, as he talked eloquently of the absent juan. he was never tired of relating stories of juan's prowess, juan's generosity. in the last duel he fought, for instance, the ball had passed through his cap and grazed his head. but he only smiled, and re-arranged his locks, remarking, while he did so, that with the addition of a gold chain and medal, the spoiled cap would be as good, or better than ever. then he would dilate on his kindness to the vanquished; rejoicing in the effect produced, a tribute as well to his own eloquence as to his brother's merit. the occupation was too fascinating not to be resorted to once and again, even had he not persuaded himself that he was fulfilling a sacred duty. moreover, he soon discovered that the bright dark eyes which were beginning to visit him nightly in his dreams, were pining all day for a sight of that gay world from which their owner was jealously and selfishly excluded. so he managed to procure for doña beatriz many a pleasure of the kind she most valued. he prevailed upon his aunt and cousins to bring her with them to places of public resort; and then he was always at hand, with the reverence of a loyal cavalier, and the freedom of a destined priest, to render her every quiet unobtrusive service in his power. at the theatre, at the dance, at the numerous church ceremonies, on the promenade, doña beatriz was his especial charge. amidst such occupations, pleasant weeks and months glided by almost unnoticed by him. never before had he been so happy. "alcala was well enough," he thought; "but seville is a thousand times better. all my life heretofore seems to me only like a dream, now i am awake." alas! he was not awake, but wrapped in a deep sleep, and cradling a bright delusive vision. as yet he was not even "as those that dream, and know the while they dream." his slumber was too profound even for this dim half-consciousness. no one suspected, any more than he suspected himself, the enchantment that was stealing over him. but every one remarked his frank, genial manners, his cheerfulness, his good looks. naturally, the name of juan dropped gradually more and more out of his conversation; as at the same time the thought of juan faded from his mind. his studies, too, were neglected; his attendance upon the lectures of fray constantino became little more than a formality; while "receiving orders" seemed a remote if not an uncertain contingency. in fact, he lived in the present, not caring to look either at the past or the future. in the very midst of his intoxication, at slight incident affected him for a moment with such a chill as we feel when, on a warm spring day, the sun passes suddenly behind a cloud. his cousin, doña inez, had been married more than a year to a wealthy gentleman of seville, don garçia ramirez. carlos, calling one morning at the lady's house with some unimportant message from doña beatriz, found her in great trouble on account of the sudden illness of her babe. "shall i go and fetch a physician?" he asked, knowing well that spanish servants can never be depended upon to make haste, however great the emergency may be. "you will do a great kindness, amigo mio," said the anxious young mother. "but which shall i summon?" asked carlos. "our family physician, or don garçia's?" "don garçia's, by all means,--dr. cristobal losada. i would not give a green fig for any other in seville. do you know his dwelling?" "yes. but should he be absent or engaged?" "i must have him. him, and no other. once before he saved my darling's life. and if my poor brother would but consult him, it might fare better with him. go quickly, cousin, and fetch him, in heaven's name." carlos lost no time in complying; but on reaching the dwelling of the physician, found that though the hour was early he had already gone forth. after leaving a message, he went to visit a friend in the triana suburb. he passed close by the cathedral, with its hundred pinnacles, and that wonder of beauty, the old moorish giralda, soaring far up above it into the clear southern sky. it occurred to him that a few aves said within for the infant's recovery would be both a benefit to the child and a comfort to the mother. so he entered, and was making his way to a gaudy tinselled virgin and babe, when, happening to glance towards a different part of the building, his eyes rested on the physician, with whose person he was well acquainted, as he had often noticed him amongst fray constantino's hearers. losada was now pacing up and down one of the side aisles, in company with a gentleman of very distinguished appearance. as carlos drew nearer, it occurred to him that he had never seen this personage in any place of public resort, and for this reason, as well as from certain slight indications in his dress of fashions current in the north of spain, he gathered that he was a stranger in seville, who might be visiting the cathedral from motives of curiosity. before he came up the two men paused in their walk, and turning their backs to him, stood gazing thoughtfully at the hideous row of red and yellow sanbenitos, or penitential garments, that hung above them. "surely," thought carlos, "they might find better objects of attention than these ugly memorials of sin and shame, which bear witness that their late miserable wearers--jews, moors, blasphemers, or sorcerers,--have ended their dreary lives of penance, if not of penitence." the attention of the stranger seemed to be particularly attracted by one of them, the largest of all. indeed, carlos himself had been struck by its unusual size; and upon one occasion he had even had the curiosity to read the inscription, which he remembered because it contained juan's favourite name, rodrigo. it was this: "rodrigo valer, a citizen of lebrixa and seville; an apostate and false apostle, who pretended to be sent from god." and now, as he approached with light though hasty footsteps, he distinctly heard dr. cristobal losada, still looking at the sanbenito, say to his companion, "yes, señor; and also the conde de nuera, don juan alvarez." don juan alvarez! what possible tie could link his father's name with the hideous thing they were gazing at? and what could the physician know about him of whom his own children knew so little? carlos stood amazed, and pale with sudden emotion. and thus the physician saw him, happening to turn at that moment. had he not exerted all his presence of mind (and he possessed a great deal), he would himself have started visibly. the unexpected appearance of the person of whom we speak is in itself disconcerting; but it deserves another name when we are saying that of him or his which, if overheard, might endanger life, or what is more precious still than life. losada was equal to the occasion, however. the usual greetings having been exchanged, he asked quietly whether señor don carlos had come in search of him, and hoped that he did not owe the honour to any indisposition in his worship's noble family. carlos felt it rather a relief, under the circumstances, to have to say that his cousin's babe was alarmingly ill. "you will do us a great favour," he added, "by coming immediately. doña inez is very anxious." the physician promised compliance; and turning to his companion, respectfully apologized for leaving him abruptly. "a sick child's claim must not be postponed," said the stranger in reply. "go, señor doctor, and god's blessing rest on your skill." carlos was struck by the noble bearing and courteous manner of the stranger, who, in his turn, was interested by the young man's anxiety about a sick babe. but with only a passing glance at the other, each went his different way, not dreaming that once again at least their paths were destined to cross. the strange mention of his father's name that he had overheard filled the heart of carlos with undefined uneasiness. he knew enough by that time to feel his childish belief in his father's stainless virtue a little shaken. what if a dreadful unexplained something, linking his fate with that of a convicted heretic, were yet to be learned? after all, the accursed arts of magic and sorcery were not so far removed from the alchemist's more legitimate labours, that a rash or presumptuous student might not very easily slide from one into the other. he had reason to believe that his father had played with alchemy, if he had not seriously devoted himself to its study. nay, the thought had sometimes flashed unbidden across his mind that the "el dorado" found might after all have been no other than the philosopher's stone. for he who has attained the power of producing gold at will may surely be said, without any stretch of metaphor, to have discovered a golden country. but at this period of his life the personal feelings of carlos were so keen and absorbing that almost everything, consciously or unconsciously, was referred to them. and thus it was that an intense wish sprang up in his heart, that his father's secret might have descended to _him_. vain wish! the gold he needed or desired must be procured from a less inaccessible region than el dorado, and without the aid of the philosopher's stone. vi. don carlos forgets himself still further. "the not so very false, as falsehood goes,-- the spinning out and drawing fine, you know; really mere novel-writing, of a sort, acting, improvising, make-believe,-- surely not downright cheatery!" r. browning it cost carlos some time and trouble to drive away the haunting thoughts which losada's words had awakened. but he succeeded at length; or perhaps it would be more truthful to say the bright eyes and witching smiles of doña beatriz accomplished the work for him. every dream, however, must have a waking. sometimes a slight sound, ludicrously trivial in its cause, dispels a slumber fraught with wondrous visions, in which we have been playing the part of kings and emperors. "nephew don carlos," said don manuel one day, "is it not time you thought of shaving your head? you are learned enough for your orders long ago, and 'in a plentiful house supper is soon dressed.'" "true, señor my uncle," murmured carlos, looking suddenly aghast. "but i am under the canonical age." "but you can get a dispensation." "why such haste? there is time yet and to spare." "that is not so sure. i hear the cura of san lucar has one foot in the grave. the living is a good one, and i think i know where to go for it. so take care you lose not a heifer for want of a halter to hold it by." with these words on his lips, don manuel went out. at the same moment gonsalvo, who lay listlessly on a sofa at one end of the room, or rather court, reading "lazarillo de tormes," the first spanish novel, burst into a loud paroxysm of laughter. "what may be the theme of your merriment?" asked carlos, turning his large dreamy eyes languidly towards him. "yourself, amigo mio. you would make the stone saints of the cathedral laugh on their pedestals. there you stand, pale as marble, a living image of despair. come, rouse yourself! what do you mean to do? will you take what you wish, or let your chance slip by, and then sit and weep because you have it not? will you be a _priest_ or a _man_? make your choice this hour, for one you must be, and both you cannot be." carlos answered him not; in truth, he dared not answer him. every word was the voice of his own heart; perhaps it was also, though he knew it not, the voice of the great tempter. he withdrew to his chamber, and barred and bolted himself in it. this was the first time in his life that solitude was a necessity to him. his uncle's words had brought with them a terrible revelation. he knew himself now too well; he knew what he loved, what he desired, or rather what he hungered and thirsted for with agonizing intensity. no; never the priest's frock for him. he must call doña beatriz de lavella his--his before god's altar--or die. then came a thought, stinging him with sharp, sudden pain. it was a thought that should have come to him long ago,--"juan!" and with the name, affection, memory, conscience, rose up together within him to combat the mad resolve of his passion. fiery passions slumbered in the heart of carlos. such are sometimes found united with a gentle temper, a weak will, and sensitive nerves. woe to their possessor when they are aroused in their strength! had carlos been a plain soldier, like the brother he was tempted to betray, it is possible he might have come forth from this terrible conflict still holding fast his honour and his brotherly affection. it was his priestly training that turned the scale. he had been taught that simple truth between man and man was a thing of little consequence. he had been taught the art of making a hundred clever, plausible excuses for whatever he saw best to do. he had been taught, in short, every species of sophistry by which, to the eyes of others, and to his own also, wrong might be made to seem right, and black to appear the purest white. his subtle imagination forged in the fire of his kindled passions chains of reasoning in which no skill could detect a flaw. juan had never loved as he did; juan would not care; probably by this time he had forgotten doña beatriz. "besides," the tempter whispered furtively within him, "he might never return at all; he might die in battle." but carlos was not yet sunk so low as to give ear for a single instant to this wicked whisper; though certainly he could not henceforth look for his brother's return with the joy with which he had been wont to anticipate that event. but, in any case, beatriz herself should be the judge between them. and he told himself that he knew (how did he know it?) that beatriz preferred _him_. then it would be only right and kind to prepare juan for an inevitable disappointment. this he could easily do. letters, carefully written, might gradually suggest to his brother that beatriz had other views; and he knew juan's pride and his fiery temper well enough to calculate that if his jealousy were once aroused, these would soon accomplish the rest. ere we, who have been taught from our cradles to "speak the truth from the heart," turn with loathing from the wiles of carlos alvarez, we ought to remember that he was a spaniard--one of a nation whose genius and passion is for intrigue. he was also a spaniard of the sixteenth century; but, above all, he was a spanish catholic, educated for the priesthood. the ability with which he laid his plans, and the enjoyment which its exercise gave him, served in itself to blind him to the treachery and ingratitude upon which those plans were founded. he sought an interview with fray constantino, and implored from him a letter of recommendation to the imperial recluse at san yuste, whose chaplain and personal favourite the canon-magistral had been. but that eloquent preacher, though warm-hearted and generous to a fault, hesitated to grant the request. he represented to carlos that his imperial majesty did not choose his retreat to be invaded by applicants for favours, and that the journey to san yuste would therefore be, in all probability, worse than useless. carlos answered that he had fully weighed the difficulties of the case; but that if the line of conduct he adopted seemed peculiar, his circumstances were so also. he believed that his father (who died before his birth) had enjoyed the special regard of his imperial majesty, and he hoped that, for his sake, he might now be willing to show him some kindness. at all events, he was sure of an introduction to his presence through his mayor-domo, don luis quixada, lord of villagarçia, who was a friend of their house. what he desired to obtain, through the kindness of his imperial majesty, was a latin secretaryship, or some similar office, at the court of the new king, where his knowledge of latin, and the talents he hoped he possessed, might stand him in good stead, and enable him to support, though with modesty, the station to which his birth entitled him. for, although already a licentiate of theology, and with good prospects in the church, he did not wish to take orders, as he had thoughts of marrying. fray constantino felt a sympathy with the young man; and perhaps the rather because, if report speaks true, he had once been himself in a somewhat similar position. so he compromised matters by giving him a general letter of recommendation, in which he spoke of his talents and his blameless manners as warmly as he could, from the experience of the nine or ten months during which he had been acquainted with him. and although the attention paid by carlos to his instructions had been slight, and of late almost perfunctory, his great natural intelligence had enabled him to stand his ground more creditably than many far more diligent students. the fray's letter carlos thankfully added to the numerous laudatory epistles from the doctors and professors of alcala that he already had in his possession. all these he enclosed in a cedar box, which he carefully locked, and consigned in its turn to a travelling portmanteau, along with a fair stock of wearing apparel, sufficiently rich in material to suit his rank, but modest in colour and fashion. he then informed his uncle that before he took orders it would be necessary for him, in his brother's absence, to take a journey to their little estate, and set its concerns in order. his uncle, suspecting nothing, approved his plan, and insisted on providing him with the attendance of an armed guard to nuera, whither he really intended to go in the first instance. vii. the desengaño "and i should evermore be vexed with thee in vacant robe, or hanging ornament, or ghostly foot-fall lingering on the stair." tennyson the journey from the city of oranges to the green slopes of the sierra morena ought to have been a delightful one to don carlos alvarez. it was certainly bright with hope. he scarcely harboured a doubt of the ultimate success of his plans, and the consequent attainment of all his wishes. already he seemed to feel the soft hand of doña beatriz in his, and to stand by her side before the high altar of the great cathedral. and yet, as days passed on, the brightness within grew fainter, and an acknowledged shadow, ever deepening, began to take its place. at last he drew near his home, and rode through the little grove of cork-trees where he and juan had played as children. when last they were there together the autumn winds were strewing the leaves, all dim and discoloured, about their paths. now he looked through the fresh green foliage at the deep intense blue of the summer sky. but, though scarcely more than twenty, he felt at that moment old and worn, and wished back the time of his boyish sports with his brother. never again could he feel quite happy with juan. soon, however, his sorrowful fancies were put to flight by the joyous greeting of the hounds, who rushed with much clamour from the castle-yard to welcome him. there they were, all of them--pedro, zina, pepe, grullo, butron--it was juan who had named them, every one. and there, at the gate, stood diego and dolores, ready to give him joyful welcome. throwing himself from his horse, he shook hands with these faithful old retainers, and answered their kindly but respectful inquiries both for himself and señor don juan. then, having caressed the dogs, inquired for each of the under-servants by name, and given orders for the due entertainment of his guard, he passed on slowly into the great deserted hall. his arrival being unexpected, he merely surrendered his travelling cloak into the hands of diego, and sat down to wait patiently while the servants, always dilatory, prepared for him suitable accommodation. dolores soon appeared with a flask of wine and some bread and grapes; but this was only a _merienda_, or slight afternoon luncheon, which she laid before her young master until she could make ready a supper fit for him to partake of. carlos spent half an hour listening to her tidings of the household and the village, and felt sorry when she quitted the room and left him to his own reflections. every object on which his eyes rested reminded him of his brother. there hung the cross-bow with which, in old days, juan had made such vigorous war on the rooks and the sparrows. there lay the foils and the canes with which they had so often fenced and played; juan, in his unquestioned superiority, usually so patient with the younger brother's timidity and awkwardness. and upon that bench he had carved, with a hunting-knife, his name in full, adding the title that had expired with his father, "conde de nuera." the memories these things recalled were becoming intrusive; he would fain shake them off. gladly would he have had recourse to his favourite pastime of reading, but there was not a book in the castle, to his knowledge, except the breviary he had brought with him. for lack of more congenial occupation, he went out at last to the stable to look at the horses, and to talk to those who were grooming and feeding them. later in the evening dolores told him that supper was ready, adding that she had laid it in the small inner room, which she thought señor don carlos would find more comfortable than the great hall. that inner room was, even more than the hall, haunted by the shadowy presence of juan. but it was usually daylight when the brothers were there together. now, a tapestry curtain shaded the window, and a silver lamp shed its light on the well-spread table with its snowy drapery, and cover laid for one. a lonely meal, however luxurious, is always apt to be somewhat dreary; it seems a provision for the lowest wants of our nature, and nothing more. carlos sought to escape from the depressing influence by giving wings to his imagination, and dreaming of the time when wealth enough to repair and refurnish that half-ruinous old homestead might be his. he pleased himself with pictures of the long tables in the great hall, groaning beneath the weight of a bountiful provision for a merry company of guests, upon whom the sweet face of doña beatriz might beam a welcome. but how idle such fancies! the castle, after all, was juan's, not his. unless, indeed, more difficulties than one should be solved by juan's death upon some french or flemish battle-field. this thought he could not bear to entertain. grown suddenly sick at heart, he pushed aside his plate of stewed pigeon, and, regardless of the feelings of dolores, sent away untasted her dessert of sweet butter-cakes dipped in honey. he was weary, he said, and he would go to rest at once. it was long before sleep would visit his eyelids; and when at last it came, his brother's dark reproachful eyes haunted him still. at daybreak he awoke with a start from a feverish dream that juan, all pale and ghostlike, had come to his bedside, and laying his hand on his arm, said solemnly, "i claim the jewel i left thee in trust." further sleep was impossible. he rose, and wandered out into the fresh air. as yet no one was astir. fair and sweet was all that met his gaze: the faint pearly light, the first blush of dawn in the quiet sky, the silvery dew that bathed his footsteps. but the storm within raged more fiercely for the calm without. there was first an agonizing struggle to repress the rising thought, "better, after all, _not_ to do this thing." but, in spite of his passionate efforts, the thought gained a hearing, it seemed to cry aloud within him, "better, after all, not to betray juan!" "and give up beatriz for ever? _for ever!_" he repeated over and over again, beating it "in upon his weary brain, as though it were the burden of a song." he had climbed, almost unawares, to the top of a rocky hill; and now he stood, looking around him at the prospect, just as if he saw it. in truth, he saw nothing, felt nothing outward, until at last a misty mountain rain swept in his face, refreshing his burning brow with a touch as of cool fingers. then he descended mechanically. exchanging salutations (as if nothing were amiss with him) with the milk-maid and the wood-boy, he crossed the open courtyard and re-entered the hall. there dolores, and a girl who worked under her, were already busy, so he passed by them into the inner room. its darkness seemed to stifle him; with hasty hand he drew aside the heavy tapestry curtain. as he did so something caught his eye. for the hundredth time he re-read the mystic inscription on the glass: "el dorado yo hé trovado." and, as an infant's touch may open a sluice that lets in the mighty ocean, those simple words broke up the fountains of the great deep within. he gave full course to the emotions they awakened. again he heard juan's voice repeat them; again he saw juan's deep earnest eyes look into his; not now reproachfully, but with full unshaken trust, as in the old days when first he said, "we will go forth together and find our father." "juan--brother!" he cried aloud, "i will never wrong thee, so help me god!" at that moment the morning sun, having scattered the mists with the glory of its rising, sent one of its early beams to kiss the handwriting on the window-pane. "old token for good," thought carlos, whose imaginative nature could play with fancies even in the hours of supreme emotion. "and true still even yet. only the good is all for juan; for me--nothing but despair." and so don carlos found his "desengaño," or disenchantment, and it was a very thorough one. body and mind were well-nigh exhausted with the violence of the struggle. perhaps this was fortunate, in so far that it won for the decision of his better nature a more rapid and easy acceptance. in a sense and for a season any decision was welcome to the weary, tempest-tossed soul. it was afterwards that he asked himself how were long years to be dragged on without the face that was the joy of his heart and the life of his life? how was he to bear the never-ending pain, the aching loneliness, of such a lot? better to die at once than to endure this slow, living death. he knew well that it was not in his nature to point the pistol or the dagger at his own breast. but he might pine away and die silently--as many thousands die--of blighted hopes and a ruined life. or--and this was more likely, perhaps--as time passed on he might grow dead and hard in soul; until at last he would become a dry, cold, mechanical mass-priest, mumbling the church's latin with thin, bloodless lips, a keen eye to his dues, and a heart that might serve for a church relic, so much faith would it require to believe that it had been warm and living once. still, laudably anxious to provide against possible future waverings of the decision so painfully attained, he wrote informing his uncle of his safe arrival; adding that he had fully made up his mind to take orders at christmas, but that he found it advisable to remain in his present quarters for a month or two. he at once dispatched two of the men-at-arms with the letter; and much was the thrifty don manuel surprised that his nephew should spend a handful of silver reals in order to inform him of what he knew already. gloomily the day wore on. the instinctive reserve of a sensitive nature made carlos talk to the servants, receive the accounts, inspect the kine and sheep--do everything, in short, except eat and drink--as he would have done if a great sorrow had not all the time been crushing his heart. it is true that dolores, who loved him as her own son, was not deceived. it was for no trivial cause that the young master was pale as a corpse, restless and irritable, talking hurriedly by fitful snatches, and then relapsing into moody silence. but dolores was a prudent woman, as well as a loving and faithful one; therefore she held her peace, and bided her time. but carlos noticed one effort she made to console him. coming in towards evening from a consultation with diego about some cork-trees which a morisco merchantman wished to purchase and cut down, he saw upon his table a carefully sealed wine-flask, with a cup beside it. he knew whence it came. his father had left in the cellar a small quantity of choice wine of xeres; and this relic of more prosperous times being, like most of their other possessions, in the care of dolores, was only produced very sparingly, and on rare occasions. but she evidently thought "señor don carlos" needed it now. touched by her watchful, unobtrusive affection, he would have gratified her by drinking; but he had a peculiar dislike to drinking alone, while he knew he would only render his sanity doubtful by inviting either her or diego to share the luxurious beverage. so he put it aside for the present, and drew towards him a sheet of figures, an ink-horn, and a pen. he could not work, however. with the silence and solitude, his great grief came back upon him again. but nature all this time had been silently working for him. his despair was giving way to a more violent but less bitter sorrow. tears came now: a long, passionate fit of weeping relieved his aching heart. since his early childhood he had not wept thus. an approaching footstep recalled him to himself. he rose with haste and shame, and stood beside the window, hoping that his position and the waning light might together shield him from observation. it was only dolores. "señor," she said, entering somewhat hastily, "will it please you to see to those men of seville that came with your excellency? they are insulting a poor little muleteer, and threatening to rob his packages." yanguesian carriers and other muleteers, bringing goods across the sierra morena from the towns of la mancha to those of andalusia, often passed by the castle, and sometimes received hospitality there. carlos rose at once at the summons, saying to dolores-- "where is the boy?" "he is not a boy, señor, he is a man; a very little man, but with a greater spirit, if i mistake not, than some twice his size." it was true enough. on the green plot at the back of the castle, beside which the mountain pathway led, there were gathered the ten or twelve rough seville pikemen, taken from the lowest of the population, and most of them of moorish blood. in their midst, beside the foremost of his three mules, with one arm thrown round her neck and the other raised to give effect by animated gestures to his eager oratory, stood the muleteer. he was a very short, spare, active-looking man, clad from head to foot in chestnut-coloured leather. his mules were well laden; each with three large alforjas, one at each side and one laid across the neck. but they were evidently well fed and cared for also; and they presented a gay appearance, with their adornments of bright-coloured worsted tassels and tiny bells. "you know, my friends," the muleteer was saying, as carlos came within hearing, "an arriero's alforjas[ ] are like a soldier's colours,--it stands him upon his honour to guard them inviolate. no, no! ask him for aught else--his purse, his blood--they are at your service; but never touch his colours, if you care for a long life." [ ] _arriero_, muleteer; _alforjas_, bags. "my honest friend, your colours, as you call them, shall be safe here," said carlos, kindly. the muleteer turned towards him a good-humoured, intelligent face, and, bowing low, thanked him heartily. "what is your name?" asked carlos; "and whence do you come?" "i am juliano; juliano el chico (julian the little) men generally call me--since, as your excellency sees, i am not very great. and i come last from toledo." "indeed! and what wares do you carry?" "some matters, small in bulk, yet costly, which i am bringing for a seville merchant--medel de espinosa by name, if your worship has heard of him? i have mirrors, for example, of a new kind; excellent in workmanship, and true as steel, as well they may be." "i know the shop of espinosa well. i have been much in seville," said carlos, with a sudden pang, caused by the recollection of the many pretty trifles that he had purchased there for doña beatriz. "but follow me, my friend, and a good supper shall make you amends for the rudeness of these fellows.--andres, take the best care thou canst of his mules; 'twill be only fair penance for thy sin in molesting their owner." "a hundred thousand thanks, señor. still, with your worship's good leave, and no offence to friend andres, i had rather look to the beasts myself. we are old companions; they know my ways, and i know theirs." "as you please, my good fellow. andres will show you the stable, and i shall tell my mayor-domo to see that you lack nothing." "again i render to your excellency my poor but hearty thanks." carlos went in, gave the necessary directions to diego, and then returned to his solitary chamber. viii. the muleteer. "are ye resigned that they be spent in such world's help? the spirits bent their awful brows, and said, 'content!' "content! it sounded like amen said by a choir of mourning men: an affirmation full of pain "and patience,--ay, of glorying, and adoration, as a king might seal an oath for governing." e.b. browning. when carlos stood once more face to face with his sorrow--as he did as soon as he had closed the door--he found that it had somewhat changed its aspect. a trouble often does this when some interruption from the outer world makes us part company with it for a little while. we find on our return that it has developed quite a new phase, and seldom a more hopeful one. it now entered the mind of carlos, for the first time, that he had been acting very basely towards his brother. not only had he planned and intended a treason, but by endeavouring to engage the affections of doña beatriz, he had actually committed one. heaven grant it might not prove irreparable! though the time that had passed since his better self gained the victory was only measured by hours, it represented to him a much longer period. already it enabled him to look upon what had gone before from the vantage-ground that some degree of distance gives. he now beheld in true, perhaps even in exaggerated colours, the meanness and the treachery of his conduct. he, who prided himself upon the nobility of his nature matching that of his birth--he, don carlos alvarez de santillanos y menaya, the gentleman of stainless manners, of reputation untarnished by a single blot--he, who had never yet been ashamed of anything,--in his solitude he blushed and covered his face in shame, as the villany he had planned rose up before his mind. it would have broken his heart to be scorned by any man; and was it not worse a thousand-fold to be thus scorned by himself? he thought even more of the meanness of his plan than of its treachery. of its sin he did not think at all. sin was a theological term which he had been wont to handle in the schools, and to toss to and fro with the other materials upon which he showed off his dialectic skill; but it no more occurred to him to take it out of the scholastic world and to bring it into that in which he really lived and acted, than it did to talk latin to diego, or softly to whisper quotations from thomas aquinas into the ear of doña beatriz between the pauses of the dance. scarcely any consideration, however, could have made him more miserable than he was. past and future--all alike seemed dreary. not a happy memory, not a cheering anticipation could he find to comfort him. he was as one who goes forth to face the driving storm of a wintry night: not strong in hope and courage--a warm hearth behind him, and before him the pleasant starry glimmer that tells of another soon to be reached--but chilled, weary, forlorn, the wind whistling through thin garments, and nothing to meet his eye but the bare, bleak, shelterless moor stretching far out into the distance. he sat long, too crushed in heart even to finish his slight, unimportant task. sometimes he drew towards him the sheet of figures, and for a moment or two tried to fix his attention upon it; but soon he would push it away again, or make aimless dots and circles on its margin. while thus engaged, he heard a cheery and not unmelodious voice chanting a fragment of song in some foreign tongue. listening more attentively, he believed the words were french, and supposed the singer must be his humble guest, the muleteer, on his way to the stable to take a last look at the beloved companions of his toils before he lay down to rest. the man had probably exercised his vocation at some former period in the passes of the pyrenees, and had thus acquired some knowledge of french. half an hour's talk with any one seemed to carlos at that moment a most desirable diversion from the gloom of his own thoughts. he might converse with this stranger when he dared not summon to his presence diego or dolores, because they knew and loved him well enough to discover in two minutes that something was seriously wrong with him. he waited until he heard the voice once more close beneath his window; then softly opening it, he called the muleteer. juliano responded with ready alertness; and carlos, going round to the door, admitted him, and led him into his sanctum. "i believe," he said, "that was a french song i heard you sing. you have been in france, then?" "ay, señor; i have crossed the pyrenees more than once. i have also been in switzerland." "you must, then, have visited many places worthy of note; and not with your eyes shut, i think. i wish you would tell me, for pastime, the story of your travels." "willingly, señor," said the muleteer, who, though perfectly respectful, had an ease and independence of manner that made carlos suspect it was not the first time he had conversed with his superiors. "where shall i begin?" "have you ever crossed the santillanos, or visited the asturias?" "no, señor. a man cannot be everywhere; 'he that rings the bells does not walk in the procession.' i am only master of the route from lyons here; knowing a little also, as i have said, of switzerland." "tell me first of lyons, then. and be seated, my friend." the muleteer sat down, and began his story, telling of the places he had seen with an intelligence that more and more engaged the attention of carlos, who failed not to draw out his information by many pertinent questions. as they conversed, each observed the other with gradually increasing interest. carlos admired the muleteer's courage and energy in the prosecution of his calling, and enjoyed his quaint and shrewd observations. moreover, he was struck by certain indications of a degree of education and even of refinement not usual in his class. especially he noticed the small, finely-formed hand, which was sometimes in the warmth of conversation laid on the table, and which looked as if it had been accustomed to wield some implement far more delicate than a riding-whip. another thing he took note of. though juliano's language abounded in proverbs, in provincialisms, in quaint and racy expressions, not a single oath escaped his lips. "i never saw an arriero before," thought carlos, "who could get through two sentences without half a dozen of them." juliano, on the other hand, was observing his host, and with a far shrewder and deeper insight than carlos could have imagined. during supper he had gathered from the servants that their young master was kind-hearted, gentle, easy-tempered, and had never injured any one in his life; and knowing all this, he was touched with genuine sympathy for the young noble, whose haggard face and sorrowful looks told but too plainly that some great grief was pressing on his heart. "your excellency must be weary of my stories," he said at length. "it is time i left you to your repose." and so indeed it was, for the hour was late. "ere you go," said carlos kindly, "you shall drink a cup of wine with me." he had no wine at hand but the costly beverage dolores had produced for his own especial use. wondering a little what juliano would think of such a luxurious beverage, he sought a second cup, for the proud castilian gentleman was too "finely courteous" not to drink with his guest, although that guest was only a muleteer. juliano, evidently a temperate man, remonstrated: "but i have already tasted your excellency's hospitality." "that should not hinder your drinking to my good health," said carlos, producing a small hunting-cup, forgotten until now, from the pocket of his doublet. then filling the larger cup, he handed it to juliano. it was a very little thing, a trifling act of kindness. but to the last hour of his life, carlos alvarez thanked god that he had put it into his heart to offer that cup of wine. the muleteer raised it to his lips, saying earnestly, "god grant you health and happiness, noble señor." carlos drank also, glad to relieve a painful feeling of exhaustion. as he set down the cup, a sudden impulse prompted him to say, with a bitter smile, "happiness is not likely to come my way at present." "nay, señor, and wherefore not? with your good leave be it spoken, you are young, noble, amiable, with much learning and excellent parts, as they tell me." "all these things may not prevent a man being very miserable," said carlos frankly. "god comfort you, señor." "thanks for the good wish," said carlos, rather lightly, and conscious of having already said too much. "all men have their troubles, i suppose, but most men contrive to live through them. so shall i, no doubt." "but god _can_ comfort you," juliano repeated with a kind of wistful earnestness. carlos, surprised at his manner, looked at him dreamily, but with some curiosity. "señor," said juliano, leaning forward and speaking in a low tone full of meaning. "let your worship excuse a plain man's plain question--señor, _do you know god_?" carlos started visibly. was the man mad? certainly not; as all his previous conversation bore witness. he was evidently a very clever, half-educated man, who spoke with just the simplicity and unconsciousness of an intelligent child. and now he had asked a true child's question; one which it would exhaust a wise man's wisdom to answer. thoroughly perplexed, carlos at last determined to take it in its easiest sense. he said, "yes; i have studied theology, and taken out my licentiate's degree at the university of alcala." "if it please your worship, what may that fine word theology mean?" "you have said so many wise things, that i marvel you know not. science about god." "then, señor, your excellency knows _about god_. but is it not another thing _to know god_? i know much about the emperor carlos, now at san yuste; i could tell you the story of all his campaigns. but i never saw him, still less spoke with him. and far indeed am i from knowing him to be my friend; and so trusting him that if my mules died, or the alguazils seized me at cordova for bringing over something contraband, or other mishap befell me, i should go or send to him, certain that he would help and save me." "i begin to understand you," said carlos; and a suspicion crossed his mind that the muleteer was a friar in disguise. but that could scarcely be, since his black abundant hair showed no marks of the tonsure. "after the manner you speak of, only great saints know god." "indeed, señor! can that be true? for i have heard that our lord christ"--(at the mention of the name carlos crossed himself, a ceremony which the muleteer was so engrossed by his argument as to forget)--"that our lord christ came into the world to make men know the father; and that, to all that believe on him, he truly reveals him." "where did you get this strange learning?" "it is simple learning; and yet very blessed, señor," returned juliano, evading the question. "for those who know god are happy. whatever sorrows they have without, within they have joy and peace." "you are advising me to seek peace in religion?" it was singular certainly that a muleteer should advise _him_; but then this was a very uncommon muleteer. "and so i ought," he added, "since i am destined for the church." "no, señor; not to seek peace in religion, but to seek peace from god, and in christ who reveals him." "it is only the words that differ, the things are the same." "again i say, with all submission to your excellency, not so. it is christ jesus himself--christ jesus, god and man--who alone can give the peace and happiness for which the heart aches. are we oppressed with sin? he says, 'thy sins are forgiven thee!' are we hungry? he is bread. thirsty? he is living water. weary? he says, 'come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and i will give you rest!'" "man! who or what are you? you are quoting the holy scriptures to me. do you then read latin?" "no, señor," said the muleteer humbly, casting his eyes down to the ground. "_no?_" "no, señor; in very truth. but--" "well? go on!" juliano looked up again, a steady light in his eyes. "will you promise, on the faith of a gentleman, not to betray me?" he asked. "most assuredly i will not betray you." "i trust you, señor. i do not believe it would be possible for _you_ to betray one who trusted you." carlos winced, and rather shrank from the muleteer's look of hearty, honest confidence. "though i cannot guess your reason for such precautions," he said, "i am willing, if you wish it, to swear secrecy upon the holy crucifix." "it needs not, señor; your word of honour is as much as your oath. though i am putting my life in your hands when i tell you that i have dared to read the words of my lord christ in my own tongue." "are you then a heretic?" carlos exclaimed, recoiling involuntarily, as one who suddenly sees the plague spot on the forehead of a friend whose hand he has been grasping. "that depends upon your notion of a heretic, señor. many a better man than i has been branded with the name. even the great preacher don fray constantino, whom all the fine lords and ladies in seville flock to hear, has often been called heretic by his enemies." "i have resided in seville, and attended fray constantino's theological lectures," said carlos. "then your worship knows there is not a better christian in all the spains. and yet men say that he narrowly escaped a prosecution for heresy. but enough of what men say. let us hear what god says for once. his words cannot lead us astray." "no; not the holy scriptures, properly expounded by learned and orthodox doctors. but heretics put their own construction upon the sacred text, which, moreover, they corrupt and interpolate." "señor, you are a scholar; you can consult the original, and judge for yourself how far that charge is true." "but i do not want to read heretic writings." "nor i, señor. yet i confess that i have read the words of my saviour in my own tongue, which some misinformed or ignorant persons call heresy; and through them, to my soul's joy, i have learned to know him and the father. i am bold enough to wish the same knowledge yours, señor, that the same joy may be yours also." the poor man's eye kindled, and his features, otherwise homely enough, glowed with an enthusiasm that lent them true spiritual beauty. carlos was not unmoved. after a moment's pause he said, "if i could procure what you style god's word in my own tongue, i do not say that i would refuse to read it. should i discover any heretical mistranslation or interpolation, i could blot out the passage; or, it necessary, burn the book." "i can place in your hands this very hour the new testament of our saviour christ, lately translated into castilian by juan perez, a learned man, well acquainted with the greek." "what! have you got it with you? in god's name bring it then; and at least i will look at it." "be it truly in god's name, señor," said juliano, as he left the room. during his absence carlos pondered upon this singular adventure. throughout his lengthened conversation with him, he had discerned no marks of heresy in the muleteer, except his possession of the spanish new testament. and being very proud of his dialectic acuteness, he thought he should certainly have discovered such had they existed. "he had need to be a clever heretic that would circumvent _me_," he said, with the vanity of a young and successful scholar. moreover, his ten months' attendance on the lectures of fray constantino had, unconsciously to himself, somewhat imbued his mind with liberal ideas. he could have read the vulgate at alcala if he had cared to do so (only he never had); where then could be the harm of glancing, out of mere curiosity, at a spanish translation from the same original? he regarded the new testament in the light of some very dangerous, though effective, weapon of the explosive kind; likely to overwhelm with terrible destruction the careless or ignorant meddler with its intricacies, and therefore wisely forbidden by the authorities; though in able and scientific hands, such as his own, it might be harmless and even useful. but it was a very different matter for the poor man who brought it to him. was he, after all, a madman? or was he a heretic? or was he a great saint or holy hermit in disguise? but whatever his spiritual peril might or might not be, it was only too evident that he was incurring temporal dangers of a very awful kind. and perhaps he was doing so in the simplicity of ignorance. carlos could not do less than warn him of them. he soon returned; and drawing a small brown volume from beneath his leathern jerkin, handed it to the young nobleman. "my friend," said carlos kindly, as he took it from him, "do you know what you dare by offering this to me, or even by keeping it yourself?" "i know it well, señor," was the calm reply; and the muleteer's dark eye met his undauntedly. "you are playing a dangerous game. this time you are safe. but take care. you may try it once too often." "i shall not, señor. i shall witness for my lord just so often as he permits. when he has no more need of me, he will call me home." "god help you. i fear you are throwing yourself into the fire. and for what?" "for the joy of bringing food to the perishing, water to the thirsty, light to those that sit in darkness, rest to the weary and heavy-laden. señor, i have counted the cost, and i shall pay the price right willingly." after a moment's silence he continued: "i leave within your hands the treasure brought at such cost. but god alone, by his divine spirit, can reveal to you its true worth. señor, seek that spirit. nay, be not offended. you are very noble and very learned; and it is a poor and ignorant man who speaks to you. but that poor man is risking his life for your soul's salvation; and thus he proves, at least, how true his desire to see you one day at the right hand of christ, his king and master. adios, señor." he bowed low; and before carlos had sufficiently recovered from his astonishment to say a word in answer, he had left the room and closed the door behind him. "strange being!" thought carlos; "but i shall talk with him again to-morrow." and ere he was aware, his eyelids were wet; for the courage and self-sacrifice of the poor muleteer had stirred some answering chord of emotion in his heart. probably, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, he was a madman; or else he was a heretical fanatic. but he was a man willing to brave numberless sufferings (of which a death of torture was the last and least), to bring his fellow-men something which he imagined would make them happy. "the church has no more orthodox son than i," said don carlos alvarez; "but i shall read his book for all that." then, the hour being late, he retired to rest, and slept soundly. he did not rise exactly with the sun, and when he came forth from his chamber breakfast was already in preparation. "where is the muleteer who was here last night?" he asked dolores. "he was up and away at sunrise," she answered. "fortunately, it is not my custom to stop in bed and see the sunshine; so i just caught him loading his mules, and gave him a piece of bread and cheese and a draught of wine. a smart little man he is, and one who knows his business." "i wish i had seen him ere he left," said carlos aloud. "shall i ever look upon his face again?" he added mentally. carlos alvarez saw that face again, not by the ray of sun or moon, nor yet by the gleam of the student's lamp, but clear and distinct in a lurid awful light more terrible than egyptian darkness, yet fraught with strange blessing, since it showed the way to the city of god, where the sun no more goes down, neither doth the moon withdraw herself. juliano el chico, otherwise julian hernandez, is no fancy sketch, no "character of fiction." it is matter of history that, cunningly stowed away in his alforjas, amongst the ribbons, laces, and other trifles that formed their ostensible freight, there was a large supply of spanish new testaments, of the translation of juan perez. and that, in spite of all the difficulties and dangers of his self-imposed task, he succeeded in conveying his precious charge safely to seville. our cheeks grow pale, our hearts shudder, at the thought of what he and others dared, that they might bring to the lips of their countrymen that living water which was truly "the blood of the men that went for it in jeopardy of their lives." more than jeopardy. not alone did juliano brave danger, he encountered certain death. sooner or later, it was impossible that he should not fall into the pitiless grasp of that hideous engine of royal and priestly tyranny, called the holy inquisition. we have no words in which to praise such heroism as his. we leave that--and we may be content to leave it--to him whose lips shall one day pronounce the sublime award, "well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy lord." but in the view of such things done and suffered for his name's sake, there is another thought that presses on the mind. how real and great, nay, how unutterably precious, must be that treasure which men were found willing, at such cost, not only to secure for themselves, but even to impart to others. ix. el dorado found. "so, the all-great were the all-loving too-- so, through the thunder comes a human voice, saying, o heart i made, a heart beats here! face my hands fashioned, see it in myself! thou hast no power, nor mayest conceive of mine: but love i gave thee with myself to love, and thou must love me who have died for thee!" r. browning. three silent months stole away in the old castle of nuera. no outward event affecting the fortunes of its inmates marked their progress. and yet they were by far the most important months don carlos had ever seen, or perhaps would ever see. they witnessed a change in him, mysterious in its progress but momentous in its results. an influence passed over him, mighty as the wind in its azure pathway, but, like it, visible only by its effects; no man could tell "whence it cometh or whither it goeth." again it was early morning, a bright sunday morning in september. already carlos stood prepared to go forth. he had quite discarded his student's habit, and was dressed like any other young nobleman, in a doublet and short cloak of genoa velvet, with a sword by his side. his breviary was in his hand, however, and he was on the point of taking up his hat when dolores entered the room, bearing a cup of wine and a manchet of bread. carlos shook his head, saying, "i intend to communicate. and you, dolores," he added, "are you not also going to hear mass?" "surely, señor; we will all attend our duty. but there is still time to spare; your worship sets us an example in the matter of early rising." "it were shame to lose such fair hours as these. prithee, dolores, and lest i forget, hast thou something savoury in the house for dinner?" "glad i am to hear you ask, señor. hitherto it has seemed alike to your excellency whether they served you with a pottage of lentils or a stew of partridges. but since diego had the good fortune to kill that buck on wednesday, we are better than well provided. your worship shall dine on roast venison to-day." "that will do. and if thou wouldst add some of the batter ware, in which thou art so skilful, it would be better still; for i intend to bring home a guest." "now, the saints help me, that is news! without meaning offence, your worship might have told me before. any noble caballero coming to these parts to visit you must needs have bed as well as board found him. and how can i, in three hours, more or less--" "nay, be not alarmed, dolores; no stranger is coming here. only i wish to bring the cura home to dinner." even the self-restrained dolores could not repress an exclamation of surprise. for both the brothers had been accustomed to regard the ignorant vulgar cura of the neighbouring village with unmitigated dislike and contempt. in old times dolores herself had sometimes tried to induce them to show him some trifling courtesies, "for their soul's health." they were willing enough to send "that beggar"--as don juan used to call him--presents of meat or game when they could, but these they would not have grudged to their worst enemy. to converse with him, or to seat him at their table, was a very different matter. he was "no fit associate for noblemen," said the boys; and dolores, in her heart, agreed with them. she looked at her young master to see whether he were jesting. "he likes a good dinner," carlos added quietly. "let us for once give him one." "in good faith, señor don carlos, i cannot tell what has come to you. you must be about doing penance for your sins, though i will say no young gentleman of your years has fewer to answer for. still, to please your whim, the cura shall eat the best we have, though beans and bacon would be more fitting fare for him." "thank you, mother dolores," said carlos kindly. "in truth, neither don juan nor i had ever whim yet you did not strive to gratify." "and who would not do more than that for so pleasant and kind a young master?" thought dolores, as she withdrew to superintend the cooking operations. "god's blessing and our lady's rest on him, and in sooth i think they do. three months ago he came here looking like a corpse out of the grave, and fitter, as it seemed to me, to don his shroud than his priest's frock. but the free mountain air wherein he was born is bringing back the red to his cheek and the light to his eye, thank the holy saints. ah, if his lady mother could only see her gallant sons now!" meanwhile don carlos leisurely took his way down the hill. having abundance of time to spare, he chose a solitary, devious path through the cork-trees and the pasture land belonging to the castle. his heart was alive to every pleasant sight and sound that met his eye and ear; although, or rather because, a low, sweet song of thankfulness was all the while chanting itself within him. during his solitary walk he distinctly realized for the first time the stupendous change that had passed over him. for such changes cannot be understood or measured until afterwards, perhaps not always then. drawing from his pocket juliano's little book, he clasped it in both hands. "_this_, god be thanked, has done it all, under him. and yet, at first, it added to my misery a hundred-fold." then his mind ran back to the dreary days of helpless, almost hopeless wretchedness, when he first began its perusal. much of it had then been quite unintelligible to him; but what he understood had only made his darkness darker still. he who had but just learned from that stern teacher, life, the meaning of sorrow, learned from the pages of his book the awful significance of that other word, sin. bitter hours, never to be remembered without a shudder, were those that followed. already prostrate on the ground beneath the weight of his selfish sorrow for the love that might never be his, cruel blows seemed rained upon him by the very hand to which he turned to lift him up. "all was his own fault," said conscience. but had conscience, enlightened by his book, said no more, he could have borne it. it was a different thing to recognize that all was his own _sin_--to feel more keenly every day that the whole current of his thoughts and affections was set in opposition to the will of god as revealed in that book, and illustrated in the life of him of whom it told. but this sickness of heart, deadly though it seemed, was not unto death. the word had indeed proved a mirror, in which he saw his own face reflected with the lines and colours of truth. but it had a farther use for him. as he did not fling it away in despair, but still gazed on, at length he saw in its clear depths another face--a face radiant with divine majesty, yet beaming with tender love and pity. he whom the mirror thus gave back to him had been "not far" from him all his life; had been standing over against him, watching and waiting for the moment in which to reveal himself. at last that moment came. he looked up from the mirror to the real face; from the word to him whom the word revealed. he turned himself and said unto him, "rabboni, which is to say, my master." he laid his soul at his feet in love, in trust, in gratitude. and he knew then, not until then, that this was the "coming" to him, the "believing" on him, the receiving him, of which he spoke as the condition of life, of pardon, and of happiness. from that hour he possessed life, he knew himself forgiven, he was _happy_. this was no theory, but a fact--a fact which changed all his present and was destined to change all his future. he longed to impart the wonderful secret he had found. this longing overcame his contempt for the cura, and made him seek to win him by kindness to listen to words which perhaps might open for him also the same wonderful fountain of joy. "now i am going to worship my lord, afterwards i shall speak of him," he said, as he crossed the threshold of the little village church. in due season the service was over. its ceremonies did not pain or offend carlos in any way; he took part in them with much real devotion, as acts of homage paid to his lord. still, if he had analyzed his feelings (which he did not), he would have found them like those of a king's child, who is obliged, on days of courtly ceremonial, to pay his father the same distant homage as the other peers of the realm, and yet knows that all this for him is but an idle show, and longs to throw aside its cumbrous pomp, and to rejoice once more in the free familiar intercourse which is his habit and his privilege. but that the ceremonial itself could be otherwise than pleasing to his king, he had not the most distant suspicion. he spoke kindly to the priest, and inquired by name after all the sick folk in the village, though in fact he knew more about them himself by this time than did father tomas. the cura's heart was glad when the catechism came to a termination so satisfactory as an invitation to dine at the castle. whatever the fare might be--and his expectations were not extravagantly high--it could scarce fail to be an improvement on the olla of which he had intended to make his sunday repast. moreover, one favour from the castle might be the earnest of others; and favours from the castle, poor though its lords might be, were not to be despised. nor was he ill at ease in the society of an accomplished gentleman, as a man just a little better bred would probably have been. a wealthy peasant's son, and with but scanty education, father tomas was so hopelessly vulgar that he never once imagined he was vulgar at all. carlos bore as patiently as he could with his coarse manners, and conversation something worse than commonplace. not until the repast was concluded did he find an opportunity of bringing forward the topic upon which he longed to speak. then, with more tact than his guest could appreciate, he began by inquiring--as one himself intended for the priesthood might naturally do--whether he could always keep his thoughts from wandering while he was celebrating the holy mysteries of the faith. father tomas crossed himself, and answered that he was a sinner like other men, but that he tried to do his duty to our holy mother church to the best of his ability. carlos remarked, that unless we ourselves know the love of god by experience we cannot love him, and that without love there is no acceptable service. "most true, señor," said the priest, turning his eyes upwards. "as the holy st. augustine saith. your worship quotes from him, i believe." "i have quoted nothing," said carlos, beginning to feel that he was speaking to the deaf; "but i know the words of christ." and then he spoke, out of a full heart, of christ's work for us, of his love to us, and of the pardon and peace which those receive that trust him. but his listener's stolid face betrayed no interest, only a vague uneasiness, which increased as carlos proceeded. the poor parish cura began to suspect that the clever young collegian meant to astonish and bewilder him by the exhibition of his learning and his "new ideas." indeed, he was not quite sure whether his host was eloquently enlarging all the time upon catholic truths, or now and then mischievously throwing out a few heretical propositions, in order to try whether he would have skill enough to detect them. naturally, he did not greatly relish this style of entertainment. nothing could be got from him save a cautious, "that is true, señor," or, "very good, your worship;" and as soon as his notions of politeness would permit, he took his leave. carlos marvelled greatly at his dulness; but soon dismissed him from his mind, and took his testament out to read under the shade of the cork-trees. ere long the light began to fade, but he sat there still in the fast deepening twilight. thoughts and fancies thronged upon his mind; and dreams of the past sought, as even yet they often did, to reassert their supremacy over his heart. one of those apparently unaccountable freaks of memory, which we all know by experience, brought back to him suddenly the luscious perfume of the orange-blossoms, called by the spaniards the azahar. such fragrance had filled the air, and such flowers had been strewed upon his pathway, when last he walked with donna beatriz in the fairy gardens of the alcazar of seville. keen was the pang that shot through his heart at the remembrance. but it was conquered soon. as he went in-doors he repeated the words he had just been reading, "'he that cometh unto me shall never hunger; he that believeth on me shall never thirst.' and _this_ hunger of the soul, as well as every other, he can stay. having him, i have all things. 'el dorado yo hé trovado.' father, dear, unknown father, i have found the golden country! not in the sense thou didst fondly seek, and i as fondly dream to find it. yet the only true land of gold i have found indeed--the treasure unfailing, the inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for me." x. dolores. "oh, hearts that break and give no sign, save whitening lip and fading tresses; till death pours out his cordial wine, slow dropped from misery's crushing presses, if singing breath or echoing chord to every hidden pang were given, what endless melodies were poured, as sad as earth, as sweet as heaven." o.w. holmes. a great modern poet has compared the soul of man to a pilgrim who passes through the world staff in hand, never resting, ever pressing onwards to some point as yet unattained, ever sighing wearily, "alas! that _there_ is never _here_." and with deep significance adds his christian commentator, "in christ _there_ is _here_." he who has found christ "is already at the goal." "for he stills our innermost fears, and fulfils our utmost longings." "in him the dry land, the mirage of the desert, becomes living water." "he who knows him knows the reason of all things." passing all along the ages, we might gather from the silent lips of the dead such words as these, bearing emphatic witness to what human hearts have found in him. yet, after all, we would come back to his own grand and simple words, as best expressing the truth: "i am the bread of life;" "i will give you rest;" "in me ye shall have peace." with the peace which he gave there came to carlos a strange new knowledge also. the testament, from its first page to its last, became intelligible to him. from a mere sketch, partly dim and partly blurred and blotted, it grew into a transparency through which light shone upon his soul, every word being itself a star. he often read his book to dolores, though he allowed her to suppose it was latin, and that he was improvising a translation for her benefit. she would listen attentively, though with a deeper shade of sadness on her melancholy face. never did she volunteer an observation, but she always thanked him at the end in her usual respectful manner. these readings were, in fact, a trouble to dolores. they gave her pain, like the sharp throbs that accompany the first return of consciousness to a frozen member, for they awakened feelings that had long been dormant, and that she thought were dead for ever. but, on the other hand, she was gratified by the condescension of her young master in reading aloud for her edification. she had gone through the world giving very largely out of her own large loving heart, and expecting little or nothing in return. she would most gladly have laid down her life for don juan or don carlos; yet she did not imagine that the old servant of the house could be to them much more than one of the oak tables or the carved chairs. that "señor don carlos" should take thought for her, and trouble himself to do her good, thrilled her with a sensation more like joy than any she had known for years. little do those whose cups are so full of human love that they carry them carelessly, spilling many a precious drop as they pass along, dream how others cherish the few poor lees and remnants left to them. moreover carlos, in the eyes of dolores, was half a priest already, and this lent additional weight, and even sacredness, to all that he said and did. one evening he had been reading to her, in the inner room by the light of the little silver lamp. he had just finished the story of lazarus, and he made some remark on the grateful love of mary, and the costly sacrifice by which she proved it. tears gathered in the dark wistful eyes of dolores, and she said with sudden and, for her, most unusual energy, "that was small wonder. any one would do as much for him that brought the dear dead back from the grave." "he has done a greater thing than even that for each of us," said carlos. but dolores withdrew into her ordinary self again, as some timid creature might shrink into its shell from a touch. "i thank your excellency," she said, rising to withdraw, "and i also make my acknowledgments to our lady, who has inspired you with such true piety, suitable to your holy calling." "stay a little, dolores," said carlos, as a sudden thought occurred to him; "i marvel it has so seldom come into my mind to ask you about my mother." "ay, señor. when you were both children, i used to wonder that you and don juan, while you talked often together of my lord your father, had scarce a thought at all of your lady mother. yet if she had lived _you_ would have been her favourite, señor." "and juan my father's," said carlos, not without a slight pang of jealousy. "was my noble father, then, more like what my brother is?" "yes, señor; he was bold and brave. no offence to your excellency, for one you love i warrant me _you_ could be brave enough. but he loved his sword and his lance and his good steed. moreover, he loved travel and adventure greatly, and never could bear to abide long in the same place." "did he not make a voyage to the indies in his youth?" "he did; and then he fought under the emperor, both in italy, and in africa against the moors. once his imperial majesty sent him on some errand to leon, and there he first met my lady. afterwards he crossed the mountains to our home, and wooed and won her. he brought her, the fairest young bride eyes could rest on, to seville, where he had a stately palace on the alameda." "you must have grieved to leave your mountains for the southern city." "no, señor, i did not grieve. wherever your lady mother dwelt was home to me. besides, 'a great grief kills all the rest.'" "then you had known sorrow before. i thought you lived with our house from your childhood." "not altogether; though my mother nursed yours, and we slept in the same cradle, and as we grew older shared each other's plays. at seven years old i went home to my father and mother, who were honest, well-to-do people, like all my forbears--good 'old christians,' and noble--they could wear their caps in the presence of his catholic majesty. they had no girl but me, so they would fain have me ever in their sight. for ten years and more i was the light of their eyes; and no blither lass ever led the goats to the mountain in summer, or spun wool and roasted chestnuts at the winter fire. but, the year of the bad fever, both were stricken. christmas morning, with the bells for early mass ringing in my ears, i closed my father's eyes; and three days afterwards, set the last kiss on my mother's cold lips. nigh upon five-and-twenty years ago,--but it seems like yesterday. folks say there are many good things in the world, but i have known none so good as the love of father and mother. ay de mi, señor, _you_ never knew either." "when your parents died, did you return to my mother?" "for half a year i stayed with my brother. though no daughter ever shed truer tears over the grave of better parents, i was not then quite broken-hearted. there was another love to whisper hope, and to keep me from desolation. he--alphonso ('tis years and years since i uttered the name save in my prayers) had gone to the war, telling me he would come back and claim me for his bride. so i watched for him hour by hour, and toiled and spun, and spun and toiled, that i might not go home to him empty-handed. but at last a lad from our parish, who had been a comrade of his, returned and told me all. _he_ was lying on the bloody field of marignano, with a french bullet in his heart. señor, the sisters you read of could 'go to the grave and weep there.' and yet the lord pitied them." "he pities all who weep," said carlos. "all good christians, he may. but though an old christian, i was not a good one. for i thought it bitter hard that my candle should be quenched in a moment, like a wax taper when the procession is done. and it came often into my mind how the almighty, or our lady, or the saints, could have helped me if they would. may they forgive me; it is hard to be religious." "i do not think so." "i suppose it is not hard to learned gentlemen who have been at the colleges. but how can simple men and women tell whether they are keeping all the commandments of god and holy church? it well may be that i had done something, or left something undone, whereby our lady was displeased." "it is not our lady, but our lord himself, who holds the keys of hell and of death," said carlos, gaining at the moment a new truth for his own heart. "none enter the gates of death, as none shall come forth through them, save at his command. but go on, dolores, and tell me how did comfort come to you?" "comfort never came to me, señor. but after a time there came a kind of numbness and hardness that helped me to live my life as if i cared for it. and your lady mother (god rest her soul!) showed me wondrous kindness in my sorrow. it was then she took me to be her own maiden. she had me taught many things, such as reading and various cunning kinds of embroidery, that i might serve her with them, she said; but i well knew they were meant to turn my heart away from its own aching. i went with her to seville. i could be glad for her, señor, that god had given her the good thing he had denied to me. at last it came to be almost like joy to me to see the great deep love there was between your father and her." this was a degree of unselfishness beyond the comprehension of carlos just then. he felt his own wound throb painfully, and was not sorry to turn the conversation. "did my parents reside long in seville?" he asked. "not long, señor. their life there was a gay one, as became their rank and wealth (for, as your worship knows, your father had a noble estate then). but soon they both grew tired of the gay world. my lady ever loved the free mountains, and my lord--i scarce can tell what change passed over him. he lost his care for the tourney and the dance, and betook himself instead to study. both were glad to withdraw to this quiet spot. here your brother don juan was born; and for nigh a year afterwards no lord and lady could have led a happier and, at the same time, more pious and orderly life, than did your noble parents." the thoughtful eye of carlos turned to the inscription on the window, and kindled with a strange light. "was not this room my father's favourite place of study?" he asked. "it was, señor. of course, the house was not then as it now is. though simple enough, after the seville palace with its fountains and marble statues, and doors grated with golden network, it was still a seemly dwelling-place for a noble lord and lady. there was glass in all the windows then, though through neglect and carelessness it has been broken (even your worship may remember how don juan sent an arrow through a quarrel-pane in the west window one day), so we thought it best to remove the traces." "my parents led a pious life, you say?" "truly they did, señor. they were good and charitable to the poor; and they spent much of their time reading holy books, as you do now. ay de mi! what was wrong with them i know not, save that perhaps they were scarce careful enough to give holy church all her dues. and i used sometimes to wish that my lady would show more devotion to the blessed mother of god. but she _felt_ it all, no doubt; only it was not her way, nor my lord's either, to be for ever running about on pilgrimage or offering wax candles, nor yet to keep the father confessor every instant with his ear to their lips." carlos started, and turned an earnest inquiring gaze upon her. "did my mother ever read to you as i have done?" he asked. "she sometimes read me good words out of the breviary, señor. all thing went on thus, until one day when a letter came from the emperor himself (as i believe), desiring your father to go to him, to antwerp. the matter was to be kept very private, but my lady used to tell me everything. my lord thought he was to be sent on some secret mission where skill was needed, and perchance peril was to be met. for it was well known that he loved such affairs, and was dexterous in the management of them. so he parted cheerily from my lady, she standing at the gate yonder, and making little don juan kiss hands to him as he rode down the path. woe for the poor babe, that never saw his father's face again! and worse woe for the mother! but death heals all things, except sin. "after three weeks or a month, more or less, two monks of st. dominic rode to the gates one day. the younger stayed without in the hall with us; while the elder, a man of stern and stately presence, had private audience of my lady in this chamber where we sit now--a place of death it has seemed to me ever since. for the audience had not lasted long until i heard a cry--such a cry!--it rings in my ears even now. i hastened to my lady. she had swooned--and long, long was it before sense returned again. do not keep looking at me, señor, with eyes so like hers, or i cannot tell you more." "did she speak? did she reveal anything to you?" "_nothing_, señor. during the days that followed, only things without meaning or connection, such as those in fever speak, or broken words of prayer, were on her lips. until the very last, and then she was worn and weak, and could but receive the rites of the church, and whisper a few directions about the poor babes. she bade us give you the name you bear, since _he_ had said that his next boy should be called for the great emperor. then she prayed very earnestly, 'lord, take him thyself--take him thyself!' doctor marco, who was present, thought she meant the poor little new-born babe--supposing, and no wonder, that it would be better tended in heaven by our lady and the angels, than here on earth. but i _know_ it was not you she thought of." "my poor mother--god rest her soul! nay, i doubt not that now she rests in god," carlos added, softly. "and so the curse fell on your house, señor; and in such sorrow were you born. yet you grew up merry lads, you and don juan." "thanks to thy care and kindness, well-beloved and faithful nurse. but, dolores, tell me truly--have you never heard anything further of, or from, my father?" "from him, never. of him, that i believed, _never_." "and what do you believe?" carlos asked, eagerly. "i know nothing, señor. i have heard all that your worship has heard, and no more." "do you think it is true--what we have all been told--of his death in the indies?" "i know nothing, señor," dolores repeated, with the air of a person determined to _say_ nothing. but carlos would not allow her to escape thus. both had gone too far to leave the subject without probing it to its depths. and both felt instinctively that it was not likely again to be discussed between them. laying his hand on her arm, and looking steadily in her face, he asked,-- "dolores, are you sure my father is dead?" seemingly relieved by the form the question had taken, she met his gaze without flinching, and answered in tones of evident sincerity, "sure as that i sit here--so help me god." after a long pause she added, as she rose to go, "señor don carlos, be not offended if i counsel you this once, since i held you a babe in my arms, and you will find none that loves you better--if a poor old woman may say so to a young and noble caballero." "say all you think to me, my dear and kind nurse." "then, señor, i say, leave vain thoughts and questions about your father's fate. 'there are no birds in last year's nests;' and 'water that has run by will turn no mill.' and i entreat of you to repeat the same to your noble brother when you find opportunity. look before you, señor, and not behind; and god's best blessings rest on you!" dolores turned to go, but turning back again, stood irresolute. "what is it, dolores?" carlos asked; hoping, perhaps, for some further glimmer of light upon that dark past, from which she implored him to turn his thoughts. "if it please you, señor don carlos--" and she paused and hesitated. "can i do anything for you?" said carlos, in a kind, encouraging tone. "ay, señor, that you can. with your learning and your good book, surely you can tell me whether the soul of my poor alphonso, dead on the battle-field without shrift or sacrament, has yet found rest with god?" thus the true woman's heart, though so full of sympathy for others, still turned back to its own sorrow, which lay deepest of all. carlos felt himself unexpectedly involved in a difficulty. "my book tells me nothing on the subject," he said, after some thought. "but i am sure you may be comforted, after all these years, during which you have diligently prayed, and sought the church's prayers for him." the long eager gaze of her wistful eyes asked mournfully, "is this _all_ you can tell me?" but her lips only said, "i thank your excellency," as she withdrew. xi. the light enjoyed. "doubt is slow to clear and sorrow is hard to bear, and each sufferer has his say, his scheme of the weal and the woe; but god has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear; the rest may reason and welcome, 'tis we musicians _know_." r. browning. bewildering were the trains of thought which the conversation just narrated awakened in the mind of carlos. on the one hand, a gleam of light was shed upon his father's career, suggesting a possible interpretation of the inscription on the window, that thrilled his heart with joy. on the other, the termination of that career was involved in even deeper obscurity than before; and he was made to feel, more keenly than ever, how childish and unreal were the dreams which he and his brother had been wont to cherish upon the subject. moreover, dolores, just before she left him, had drawn a bow at a venture, and most unintentionally sent a sharp arrow through a joint in his harness. why could he find no answer to a question so simple and natural as the one she had asked him? why did the book, which had solved so many mysteries for him, shed not a ray of light upon this one? whence this ominous silence of the apostles and evangelists upon so many things that the church most loudly proclaimed? where, in his book, was purgatory to be found at all? where was the adoration of the virgin and the saints? where were works of supererogation? but here he started in horror, as one who suddenly saw himself on the brink of a precipice. or rather, as one dwelling secure and contented within a little circle of light and warmth, to whom such questions came as intimations of a chaos surrounding it on every side, into which a chance step might at any moment plunge him. most earnestly he entreated that the lord of his life, the guide of his spirit, would not let him go forth to wander there. he prayed, expressly and repeatedly, that the doubts which began to trouble him might be laid and silenced. his prayer was answered, as all true prayer is sure to be, but it was not _granted_. he whose love is strong and deep enough to work out its good purpose in us even against the pleadings of our own hearts, saw that his child must needs pass through "a land of darkness" to reach the clearer light beyond. conflicts fierce and terrible must be his portion, if indeed he were to take his place amongst those "called and chosen and faithful" ones who, having stood beside the lamb in his contest with antichrist, shall stand beside him on the sea of glass mingled with fire. already carlos was in training for that contest--though as yet he knew not that there was any contest before him, save the general "striving against sin" in which all christians have to take part. for the joy of the lord is the christian's strength in the day of battle. and he usually prepares those faithful soldiers whom he means to set in the forefront of the hottest battle, by previously bestowing that joy upon them in very full measure. he who is willing to "sell all that he hath," must first have found a treasure, and what "the joy thereof" is none else may declare. in this joy carlos lived now; and it was as yet too fresh and new to be greatly disturbed by haunting doubts or perplexing questions. these, for the present, came and passed like a breath upon a surface of molten gold, scarcely dimming its lustre for a moment. it had become his great wish to receive orders as soon as possible, that he might consecrate himself more entirely to the service of his lord, and spread abroad the knowledge of his love more widely. with this view, he determined on returning to seville early in october. he left nuera with regret, especially on account of dolores, who had taken a new place in his consideration, and even in his affections, since he had begun to read to her from his book. and, though usually very calm and impassive in manner, she could scarcely refrain from tears at the parting. she entreated him, with almost passionate earnestness, to be very prudent and careful of himself in the great city. carlos, who saw no special danger likely to menace him, save such as might arise from his own heart, felt tempted to smile at her foreboding tone, and asked her what she feared for him. "oh, señor don carlos," she pleaded, with clasped hands, "for the love of god, take care; and do not be reading and telling your good words to every one you meet. for the world is an ill place, your worship, where good is ofttimes evil-spoken of." "never fear for me," returned carlos, with his frank, pleasant smile. "i have found nothing in my book but the most catholic verities, which will be useful to all and hurtful to none. but of course i shall be prudent, and take due care of my words, lest by any extraordinary chance they might be misinterpreted. so that you may keep your mind at peace, dear mother dolores." xii. the light divided from the darkness. "i felt and feel, what'er befalls, the footsteps of thy life in mine." tennyson. in the glorious autumn weather, don carlos rode joyfully through cork and chestnut groves, across bare brown plains, and amidst gardens of pale olives and golden orange globes shining through dark glossy leaves. he had long ago sent back to seville the guard with which his uncle had furnished him, so that his only companion was a country youth, trained by diego to act as his servant. but although he passed through the very district afterwards immortalized by the adventures of the renowned don quixote, no adventure fell to his lot. unless it may count for an adventure that near the termination of his journey the weather suddenly changed, and torrents of ruin, accompanied by unusual cold, drove him to seek shelter. "ride on quickly, jorge," he said to his attendant, "for i remember there is a venta[ ] by the roadside not far off. a poor place truly, where we are little likely to find a supper. but we shall find a roof to shelter us and fire to warm us, and these at present are our most pressing needs." [ ] an inn. arrived at the venta, they were surprised to see the lazy landlord so far stirred out of his usual apathy as to busy himself in trying to secure the fastening of the outer door, that it might not swing backwards and forwards in the wind, to the great discomfort of all within the house. the proud indifferent spaniard looked calmly up from his task, and remarked that he would do all in his power to accommodate his worship. "but unfortunately, señor and your excellency, a _very_ great and principal nobleman has just arrived here, with a most distinguished train of fine caballeros--his lordship's gentlemen and servants; and kitchen, hall, and chamber are as full of them as a hive is full of bees." this was evil news to carlos. proud, sensitive, and shy, there could be nothing more foreign to his character than to throw himself into the society of a person who, though really only his equal in rank, was so much his superior in all that lends rank its charm in the eyes of the vulgar. "we had better push on to ecija," said he to his reluctant attendant, bravely turning his face to the storm, and making up his mind to ten miles more in drenching rain. at that moment, however, a tall figure emerged from the inner door, opening into the long room behind the stable and kitchen, that formed the only tolerable accommodation the one-storied venta afforded. "surely, señor, you do not intend to go further in this storm," said the nobleman, whose fine thoughtful countenance carlos could not but fancy that he had seen before. "it is not far to ecija, señor," returned carlos, bowing. "and 'first come first served,' is an excellent proverb." "the first-comer has certainly one privilege which i am not disposed to waive--that of hospitably welcoming the second. do me the favour to come in, señor. you will find an excellent fire." carlos could not decline an invitation so courteously given. he was soon seated by the wood fire that blazed on the hearth of the inner room, exchanging compliments, in true spanish fashion, with the nobleman who had welcomed him so kindly. though no one could doubt for an instant the strangers possession of the pure "sangre azul,"[ ] yet his manners were more frank and easy and less ceremonious than those to which carlos had been accustomed in the exclusive and privileged class of seville society--a fact accounted for by the discovery, afterwards made, that he was horn and educated in italy. [ ] "blue blood." "i have the pleasure of recognizing don carlos alvarez de santillanos y meñaya," said he. "i hope the babe about whom his worship showed such amiable anxiety recovered from its indisposition?" this then was the personage whom carlos had seen in such close conversation with the physician losada. the association of ideas immediately brought back the mysterious remark about his father he had overheard on that occasion. putting that aside, however, for the present, he answered, "perfectly, i thank your grace. we attribute the recovery mainly to the skill and care of the excellent dr. cristobal losada." "a gentleman whose medical skill cannot be praised too highly, except, indeed, it were exalted at the expense of his other excellent qualities, and particularly his charity to the poor." carlos heartily acquiesced, and added some instances of the physician's kindness to those who could not recompense him again. they were new to his companion, who listened with interest. during this conversation supper was laid. as the principal guest had brought his own provisions with him, it was a comfortable and plentiful repast. carlos, ere he sat down, left the room to re-arrange his dress, and found opportunity to ask the innkeeper if he knew the noble strangers name. "his excellency is a great noble from castile," returned mine host, with an air of much importance. "his name, as i am informed, is don carlos de seso; and his illustrious lady, doña isabella, is of the blood royal." "where does he reside?" "his gentlemen tell me, principally at one of his fine estates in the north, villamediana they call it. he is also corregidor[ ] of toro. he has been visiting seville upon business of importance, and is now returning home." [ ] mayor. pleased to be the guest of such a man (for in fact he was his guest), carlos took his seat at the table, and thoroughly enjoyed the meal. an hour's intercourse with a man who had read and travelled much, but had thought much more, was a rare treat to him. moreover, de seso showed him all that fine courtesy which a youth so highly appreciates from a senior, giving careful attention to every observation he hazarded, and manifestly bringing the best of his powers to bear on his own share of the conversation. he spoke of fray constantino's preaching, with an enthusiasm that made carlos regret that he had been hitherto such an inattentive hearer. "have you seen a little treatise by the fray, entitled 'the confession of a sinner'?" he asked. carlos having answered in the negative, his new friend drew a tract from the pocket of his doublet, and gave it to him to read while he wrote a letter. carlos, after the manner of eager, rapid readers, plunged at once into the heart of the matter, disdaining beginnings. almost the first words upon which his eyes fell arrested his attention and drew him irresistibly onwards. "such has been the pride of man," he read, "that he aimed at being god; but so great was thy compassion towards him in his fallen state, that thou abasedst thyself to become not only of the rank of men, but a true man, and the least of men, taking upon thee the form of a servant, that thou mightest set me at liberty, and that by means of thy grace, wisdom, and righteousness, man might obtain more than he had lost by his ignorance and pride.... wast thou not chastised for the iniquity of others? has not thy blood sufficient virtue to wash out the sins of all the human race? are not thy treasures more able to enrich me than all the debt of adam to impoverish me? lord, although i had been the only person alive, or the only sinner in the world, thou wouldst not have failed to die for me. o my saviour, i would say, and say it with truth, that i individually stand in need of those blessings which thou hast given to all. what though the guilt of all had been mine? thy death is all mine. even though i had committed all the sins of all, yet would i continue to trust thee, and to assure myself that thy sacrifice and pardon is all mine, though it belong to all." so far he read in silence, then the tract fell from his hand, and an involuntary exclamation broke from his lips--"passing strange!" de seso paused, pen in hand, and looked up surprised. "what find you 'passing strange,' señor?" he asked. "that he--that fray constantino should have felt precisely what--what he describes here." "that such a holy man should feel so deeply his own utter sinfulness? but you are doubtless aware that the holiest saints in all ages have shared this experience. st. augustine, for instance, with whose writings so ripe a theological scholar is doubtless well acquainted." "such," returned carlos, "are not worse than others; but they know what they are as others do not." "true. tried by the standard of god's perfect law, the purest life must appear a miserable failure. we may call the marble of our churches and dwellings white, until we see god's snow, pure and fresh from heaven, upon it." "ay, señor," said carlos, with joyful eagerness; "but the hand that points out the stains can cleanse them. no snow is half so pure as the linen clean and white which is the righteousness of saints." it was de seso's turn to be astonished now. in the look that, half leaning over the table, he bent upon the eager face of carlos, surprise and emotion blended. for a moment their eyes met with a flash, like that which flint strikes from steel, of mutual intelligence and sympathy. but it passed again as quickly. de seso said, "i suspect that i see in you, señor don carlos, one of those admirable scholars who have devoted their talents to the study of that sacred language in which the words of the holy apostles are handed down to us. you are a grecian?" carlos shook his head. "greek is but little studied at complutum now," he said, "and i confined myself to the usual theological course." "in which, i have heard, your success has been brilliant. but it is a sore disgrace to us, and a heavy loss to the youth of our nation, that the language of st. john and st. paul should be deemed unworthy of their attention." "your excellency is aware that it was otherwise in former years," returned carlos. "perhaps the present neglect is owing to the suspicion of heresy which, truly or falsely, has attached itself to most of the accomplished greek scholars of our time." "a miserable misapprehension; the growth of monkish ignorance and envy, and popular superstition. heresy is a convenient stigma with which men ofttimes brand as evil the good they are incapable of comprehending." "most true, señor. even fray constantino has not escaped." "his crime has been, that he has sought to turn the minds of men from outward acts and ceremonies to the great spiritual truths of which these are the symbols. to the vulgar, religion is nothing but a series of shows and postures." "yes," answered carlos; "but the heart that loves god, and truly believes in our lord and saviour, is taught to put such in their proper place. 'these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.'" "señor don carlos," said de seso, with surprise he could no longer suppress, "you are evidently a devout and earnest student of the scriptures." "i search the scriptures; in them i think i have eternal life. and they testify of christ," promptly responded the less cautious youth. "i perceive that you do not quote the vulgate." carlos smiled. "no, señor. to a man of your enlightened views i am not afraid to acknowledge the truth. i have seen--nay, why should i hesitate?--i possess a rare treasure--the new testament of our lord and saviour jesus christ in our own noble castilian tongue." even through the calm and dignified deportment of his companion carlos could perceive the thrill that this communication caused. there was a pause; then he said softly, "and your treasure is also mine." the low quiet words came from even greater depths of feeling than the eager tremulous tones of carlos. for _his_ convictions, slowly reached and dearly purchased, were "built below" the region of the soul that passions agitate,-- "based on the crystalline sea of thought and its eternity." the heart of carlos glowed with sudden ardent love towards the man who shared his treasure, and, he doubted not, his faith also. he could joyfully have embraced him on the spot. but the force of habit and the sensitive reserve of his character checked this impetuous demonstrativeness. he only said, with a look that was worth an embrace, "i knew it. your excellency spoke as one who held our lord and his truth in honour." "_ella es pues honor a vosotros que creeis._"[ ] [ ] unto you who believe he is precious," or "an honour." it would have been hard to begin a verse that carlos could not at this time have instantly completed. he went on: "_mas para los que no creen, la piedra que los edificatores reprobaron_."[ ] [ ] "but unto those that believe not, the stone that the builders reject." "a sorrowful truth," said de seso, "which my young friend must needs bear in mind. his word, like himself, is rejected by the many. its very mention may expose to obloquy and danger." "only another instance, señor, of those lamentable prejudices about heresy about which we spoke anon. i am aware that there are those that would brand me (_me_, a scholar too!) with the odious name of heretic, merely for reading god's word in my own tongue. but how utterly absurd the charge! the blessed book has but confirmed my faith in all the doctrines of our holy mother church." "has it?" said de seso, quietly, perhaps a little drily. "most assuredly, señor," carlos rejoined, with warmth. "in fact i never understood, or, i may say, truly believed those holy verities until now. beginning with the credo itself, and the orthodox catholic faith in our lord's divinity and atonement." here their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the attendants, who removed supper, replenished the lamp, and heaped fresh chestnut logs on the fire. but as soon as the room was cleared they returned eagerly to subjects so interesting to both. "our salvation rests," said de seso, "upon the great cardinal truths you have named. by the faith which receives into your heart the atonement of christ as a work done for you, you are justified." "i am forgiven, and i shall be justified." "pardon me, señor; scripture teaches that your justification is already complete. therefore, _being justified by faith_, we have peace with god." "but that cannot surely be the apostle's meaning," said carlos, "ay de mi! i know too well that i am not yet completely justified. far from it; evil thoughts throng my heart; and not with heart alone, but with lips, eyes, hands, i transgress daily." "yet, you see, peace can only be consequent on justification. and peace you have." carlos looked perplexed. misled by the teaching of his church, he confused justification with sanctification; consequently he could not legitimately enjoy the peace that ought to flow from the one as a complete and finished work, because the other necessarily remained imperfect. de seso explained that the word justify is never used in scripture in its derivative sense, to _make_ righteous; but always in its common and universally accepted sense, to _account_ or _declare_ righteous. quite easily and naturally he glided into the teacher's place, whilst carlos gladly took that of the learner; not, indeed, without astonishment at the layman's skill in divinity, but with too intense an interest in what he said to waste much thought upon his manner of saying it. hitherto he had been like an unlearned man, who, without guide or companion, explores the trackless shores of a newly-discovered land. should such an one meet in his course a scientific explorer, who has mapped and named every mountain, rock, and bay, who has traced out the coast-line, and can tell what lies beyond the white hills in the distance, it is easy to understand the eagerness with which he would listen to his narrative, and the intentness with which he would bend over the chart in which the scene of his own journeyings lies portrayed. thus de seso not only taught carlos the true meaning of scripture terms, and the connection of scripture truths with each other; he also made clear to him the facts of his own experience, and gave names to them for him. "i think i understand now," said carlos after a lengthened conversation, in which, moving from point to point, he had suggested many doubts and not a few objections, and these in turn had been taken up and answered by his friend. "god be thanked, there is no more condemnation, no more punishment for us. nothing, either in act or suffering, can be added to the work of christ, which is complete." "ay, now you have grasped the truth which is the source of our joy and strength." "it must then be our sanctification which suffering promotes, both in this life and in purgatory." "all god's dealings with us in this life are meant to promote our sanctification. joy may do it, by his grace, as well as sorrow. it is written, not alone, 'he humbled thee and suffered thee to hunger,' but also, 'he fed thee with manna, to teach the secret of life in him, from him, and by him.'" "but suffering is purifying--like fire." "not in itself. criminals released from the galleys usually come forth hardened in their crimes by the lash and the oar." having said this, de seso rose and extinguished the expiring lamp, while carlos remained thoughtfully gazing into the fire. "señor," he said, after a long pause, during which the stream of thought ran continuously underground, to reappear consequently in an unexpected place--"señor, do you think god's word, which solves so many mysteries, can answer every question for us?" "scarcely. some questions we may ask, of which the answers, in our present state, would be beyond our comprehension. and others may indeed be answered there, but we may miss the answers, because through weakness of faith we are not yet able to receive them." "for instance?" "i had rather not name an instance--at present," said de seso, and carlos thought his face had a sorrowful look as he gazed at it in the firelight. "i would not willingly miss anything my lord meant to teach. i desire to know _all_ his will, and to follow it," carlos rejoined earnestly. "it may be that you know not what you desire. still, name any question you wish; and i will tell you freely whether in my judgment god's word contains an answer." carlos stated the difficulty suggested by the inquiry of dolores. who can tell the exact moment when his bark leaves the gently-flowing river for the great deep ocean? that of carlos, on the instant when he put this question, was met by the first wave of the mighty sea upon which he was to be tossed by many a storm. but he did not know it. "i agree with you as to the silence of god's word about purgatory," returned his friend; and for some time both gazed into the fire without speaking. "this and similar discoveries have sometimes given me, i own, a feeling of blank disappointment, and even of terror," said carlos at length. for with him it was one of those rare hours in which a man can bear to translate into words the "dark misgivings" of the soul, usually unacknowledged even to himself. "i cannot say," was the answer, "that the thought of passing through the gate of death into the immediate presence of my glorified lord affects me with 'blank disappointment' or 'terror.'" "how?--what do you say?" cried carlos, starting visibly. "'absent from the body, present with the lord.' 'to depart and to be with christ is far better.'" "but it was san pablo, the great apostle and martyr, who said that. for us,--we have the church's teaching," carlos rejoined in quick, anxious tones. "nevertheless, i venture to think that, in the face of all you have learned from god's word, you will find it a task somewhat of the hardest to prove purgatory." "not at all," said carlos; and immediately he bounded into the arena of controversy, laid his lance in rest, and began an animated tilting-match with his new friend, who was willing (of course, thought carlos, for argument's sake alone, and as an intellectual exercise) to personate a lutheran antagonist. but not a few doughty champions have met the stern reality of a bloody death in the mimic warfare of the tilting-field. at every turn carlos found himself answered, baffled, confounded. yet, how could he, how dared he, acknowledge defeat, even to himself, when with the imperilled doctrine so much else must fall? what would become of private masses, indulgences, prayers for the dead? nay, what would become of the infallibility of mother church herself? so he fought desperately. fear, ever increasing, quickened his preceptions, baptized his lips with eloquence, made his sense acute and his memory retentive. driven at last from the ground of scripture and reason, he took his stand upon that of scholastic divinity. using the weapons with which he had been taught to play so deftly for once in terrible earnest, he spun clever syllogisms, in which he hoped to entangle his adversary. but de seso caught the flimsy webs in the naked hand of his strong sense, and crushed them to atoms. then carlos knew that the battle was lost. "i can say no more," he acknowledged, sorrowfully bowing his head. "and what i have said--is it not in accordance with the word of god?" with a cry of dismay on his lips, carlos turned and looked at him--"god help us! are we then lutherans?" "it may be christ is asking another question--are we amongst those who follow him _whithersoever_ he goeth?" "oh, not _there_--not to _that_!" cried carlos, rising in his agitation and beginning to pace the room. "i abhor heresy--i eschew the thought. from my cradle i have done so. anywhere but that!" pausing at last in his walk before the place where de seso sat, he asked, "and you, señor, have you considered whither this would lead?" "i have. i do not ask thee to follow. but this i say: if christ bids any man leave the ship and come to him upon these dark and stormy waters, he will stretch out his own right hand to uphold and sustain him." "to leave the ship--his church? that would be leaving him. and leaving him, i am lost, soul and body--lost--lost!" "fear not. at his feet, clinging to him, soul of man was never lost yet." "i will cleave to him, and to the church too." "still, if one must be forsaken, let not that one be christ." "never, _never_--so help me god!" after a pause he added, as if speaking to himself, "lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life." he stood motionless, wrapt in thought; while de seso rose softly, and going to the window, put aside the rude shutter that had been fastened across it. "the night is bright," said carlos dreamily. "the moon must have risen." "that is daylight you see," returned his companion with a smile. "time for wayfarers to seek rest in sleep." "prayer is better than sleep." "true, and we who own the same precious faith can well unite in prayer." with the willing consent of carlos, his new friend laid their common desires and perplexities before god. the prayer was in itself a revelation to him; he forgot even to wonder that it came from the lips of a layman. for de seso spoke as one accustomed to converse with the unseen, and to enter by faith to the inner sanctuary, the very presence of god himself. and carlos found that it was good thus to draw nigh to god. he felt his troubled soul returning to its rest, to its quiet confidence in him who, he knew, would guide him by his counsel, and afterwards receive him into glory. when they rose, instinctively their right hands sought each other, and were locked in that strong grasp which is sometimes worth more than an embrace. "we have confidence each in the other," said de seso, "so that we need exchange no pledge of faithfulness or secrecy." carlos bowed his head. "pray for me, señor," he said. "pray that god, who sent you here to teach me, may in his own time complete the work he has begun." then both lay down in their cloaks; one to sleep, the other to ponder and pray. in the morning each went his several way. and never was it given to carlos, in this world, to look upon that face or to grasp that hand again. he who had thus crossed his path, as it were for a moment, was perhaps the noblest of all the heroic band of spanish martyrs, that forlorn hope of christ's army, who fought and fell "where satan's seat was." his high birth and lofty station, his distinguished abilities, even those more superficial graces of person and manner which are not without their strong fascination, were all--like the precious ointment with the odour of which the house was filled--consecrated to the service of the lord for whom he lived and died. the eye of imagination lingers with special and reverential love upon that grand calm figure. but our simple story leads us far away amongst other scenes and other characters. we must now turn to a different part of the wide missionary harvest-field, in which the lowly muleteer juliano hernandez, and the great noble don carlos de seso, were both labouring. was their labour in vain? xiii. seville. "there is a multitude around, responsive to my prayer; i hear the voice of my desire resounding everywhere." a.l. waring. don carlos felt surprised, on returning to seville, to find the circle in which he had been wont to move exactly as he left it. his absence appeared to him a great deal longer than it really was. moreover, there lurked in his mind an undefined idea that a period so fraught with momentous change to him could not have passed without change over the heads of others. but the worldly only seemed more worldly, the frivolous more frivolous, the vain more vain than ever. around the presence of doña beatriz there still hung a sweet dangerous fascination, against which he struggled, and, in the strength of his new and mighty principle of action, struggled successfully. still, for the sake of his own peace, he longed to find some fair pretext for making his home elsewhere than beneath his uncle's roof. one great pleasure awaited his return--a letter from juan. it was the second he had received; the first having merely told of his brother's safe arrival at the headquarters of the royal army at cambray. don juan had obtained his commission just in time for active service in the brief war between france and spain that immediately followed the accession of philip ii. and now, though he said not much of his own exploits, it was evident that he had already begun to distinguish himself by the prompt and energetic courage which was a part of his character. moreover, a signal piece of good fortune had fallen to his lot. the spaniards were then engaged in the siege of st. quentin. before the works were quite completed, the french general--the celebrated admiral coligny--managed to throw himself into the town by a brilliant and desperate _coup-de-main_. many of his heroic band were killed or taken prisoners, however; and amongst the latter was a gentleman of rank and fortune, a member of the admiral's suite, who surrendered his sword into the hands of young don juan alvarez. juan was delighted with his prize, as he well might be. not only was the distinction an honourable one for so young a soldier; but the ransom he might hope to receive would serve very materially to smooth his pathway to the attainment of his dearest wishes. carlos was now able to share his brother's joy with unselfish sympathy. with a peculiar kind of pleasure, not quite unmixed with superstition, he recalled juan's boyish words, more than once repeated, "when i go to the wars, i shall make some great prince or duke my prisoner." they had found a fair, if not exactly literal, fulfilment, and that so early in his career. and a belief that had grown up with him from childhood was strengthened thereby. juan would surely accomplish everything upon which his heart was set. certainly he would find his father--if that father should prove to be after all in the land of the living. carlos was warmly welcomed back by his relatives--at least by all of them save one. to a mild temper and amiable disposition he united the great advantage of rivalling no man, and interfering with no man's career. at the same time, he had a well-defined and honourable career of his own, in which he bid fair to be successful; so that he was not despised, but regarded as a credit to the family. the solitary exception to the favourable sentiments he inspired was found in the bitter disdain which gonsalvo, with scarcely any attempt at disguise, exhibited towards him. this was painful to him, both because he was sensitively alive to the opinions of others; and also because he actually preferred gonsalvo, notwithstanding his great and glaring faults, to his more calculating and worldly-minded brothers. force of any kind possesses a real fascination for an intellectual and sympathetic, but rather weak character; and this fascination grows in intensity when the weaker has a reason to pity and a desire to help the stronger. it was not altogether grace, therefore, which checked the proud words that often rose to the lips of carlos in answer to his cousin's sneers or sarcasms. he was not ignorant of the cause of gonsalvo's contempt for him. it was gonsalvo's creed that a man who deserved the name always got what he wanted, or died in the attempt; unless, of course, absolutely insuperable physical obstacles interfered, as they did in his own case. as he knew well enough what carlos wanted before his departure from seville, the fact of his quietly resigning the prize, without even an effort to secure it, was final with him. one day, when carlos had returned a forbearing answer to some taunt, doña inez, who was present, took occasion to apologize for her brother, as soon as he had quitted the room. carlos liked doña inez much better than her still unmarried sister, because she was more generous and considerate to beatriz. "you are very good, amigo mio," she said, "to show so great forbearance to my poor brother. and i cannot think wherefore he should treat you so uncourteously. but he is often rude to his brothers, sometimes even to his father." "i fear it is because he suffers. though rather less helpless than he was six months ago, he seems really more frail and sickly." "ay de mi, that is too true. and have you heard his last whim? he tells us he has given up physicians for ever. he has almost as ill an opinion of them as--forgive me, cousin--of priests." "could you not persuade him to consult your friend, doctor cristobal?" "i have tried, but in vain. to speak the truth, cousin," she added, drawing nearer to carlos, and lowering her voice, "there is another cause that has helped to make him what he is. no one knows or even guesses aught of it but myself; i was ever his favourite sister. if i tell you, will you promise the strictest secrecy?" carlos did so; wondering a little what his cousin would think could she surmise the weightier secrets which were burdening his own heart. "you have heard of the marriage of doña juana de xeres y bohorques with don francisco de vargas?" "yes; and i account don francisco a very fortunate man." "are you acquainted with the young lady's sister, doña maria de bohorques?" "i have met her. a fair, pale, queenly girl. she is not fond of gaiety, but very learned and very pious, as i have been told." "you will scarce believe me, don carlos, when i tell you that pale, quiet girl is gonsalvo's choice, his dream, his idol. how she contrived to gain that fierce, eager young heart, i know not--but hers it is, and hers alone. of course, he had passing fancies before; but she was his first serious passion, and she will be his last." carlos smiled. "red fire and white marble," he said. "but, after all, the fiercest fire could not feed on marble. it must die out, in time." "from the first, gonsalvo had not the shadow of a chance," doña inez replied, with an expressive flutter of her fan. "i have not the least idea whether the young lady even knows he loves her. but it matters not. we are alvarez de meñaya; still we could not expect a grandee of the first order to give his daughter to a younger son of our house. even before that unlucky bull-feast. _now_, of course, he himself would be the first to say, 'pine-apple kernels are not for monkeys,' nor fair ladies for crippled caballeros. and yet--you understand?" "i do," said carlos; and in truth he _did_ understand, far better than doña inez imagined. she turned to leave the room, but turned back again to say kindly, "i trust, my cousin, your own health has not suffered from your residence among those bleak inhospitable mountains? don garçia tells me he has seen you twice, since your return, coming forth late in the evening from the dwelling of our good señor doctor." there was a sufficient reason for these visits. before they parted, de seso had asked carlos if he would like an introduction to a person in seville who could give him further instruction upon the subjects they had discussed together. the offer having been thankfully accepted, he was furnished with a note addressed, much to his surprise, to the physician losada; and the connection thus begun was already proving a priceless boon to carlos. but nature had not designed him for a keeper of secrets. the colour mounted rapidly to his cheek, as he answered,-- "i am flattered by my lady cousin's solicitude for me. but, i thank god, my health is as good as ever. in truth, doctor cristobal is a man of learning and a pleasant companion, and i enjoy an hour's conversation with him. moreover, he has some rare and valuable books, which he is kind enough to lend me." "he is certainly very well-bred, for a man of his station," said doña inez, condescendingly. carlos did not resume his attendance upon the lectures of fray constantino at the college of doctrine; but when the voice of the eloquent preacher was heard in the cathedral, he was never absent. he had no difficulty _now_ in recognizing the truths that he loved so well, covered with a thin veil of conventional phraseology. all mention, not absolutely necessary, of dogmas peculiarly romish was avoided, unless when the congregation were warned earnestly, though in terms well-studied and jealously guarded, against "risking their salvation" upon indulgences or ecclesiastical pardons. the vanity of trusting to their own works was shown also; and in every sermon christ was faithfully held up before the sinner as the one all-sufficient saviour. carlos listened always with rapt attention, usually with keen delight. often would he look around him upon the sea of earnest upturned faces, saying within himself, "many of these my brethren and sisters have found christ--many more are seeking him;" and at the thought his heart would thrill with thankfulness. but even at that moment some word from the preacher's lips might change his joy into a chill of apprehension. it frequently happened that fray constantino, borne onward by the torrent of his own eloquence, was betrayed into uttering some sentiment so very nearly heretical as to make his hearer tingle with the peculiar sense of pain that is caused by seeing one rush heedlessly to the verge of a precipice. "i often thank god for the stupidity of evil men and the simplicity of good ones," carlos said to his new friend losada, after one of these dangerous discourses. for by this time, what de seso had first led him to suspect, had become a certainty with him. he knew himself _a heretic_--a terrible consciousness to sink into the heart of any man in those days, especially in catholic spain. fortunately the revelation had come to him gradually; and still more gradually came the knowledge of all that it involved. yet those were sorrowful hours in which he first felt himself cut off from every hallowed association of his childhood and youth; from the long chain of revered tradition, which was all he knew of the past; from the vast brotherhood of the church visible--that mighty organization, pervading all society, leavening all thought, controlling all custom, ruling everything in this world, even if not in the next. his own past life was shattered: the ambitions he had cherished were gone--the studies he had excelled and delighted in were proved for the most part worse than vain. it is true that he believed, even still, that he might accept priestly ordination from the hands of rome (for the idolatry of the mass was amongst the things not yet revealed to him); but he could no longer hope for honour or preferment, or what men call a career, in the church. joy enough would it be if he were permitted, in some obscure corner of the land, to tell his countrymen of a saviour's love; and perpetual watchfulness, extreme caution, and the most judicious management would be necessary to preserve him--as hitherto they had preserved fray constantino--from the grasp of the holy inquisition. to us, who read that word in the lurid light that martyr fires kindled after this period have flung upon it, it may seem strange that carlos was not more a prey to fear of the perils entailed by his heresy. but so slowly did he pass out of the stage in which he believed himself still a sincere catholic into that in which he shudderingly acknowledged that he was in very truth a lutheran, that the shock of the discovery was wonderfully broken to him. nor did he think the danger that menaced him either near or pressing, so long as he conducted himself with reserve and prudence. it is true that this reserve involved a degree of secrecy, if not of dissimulation, that was fast becoming very irksome. formerly the kind of fencing, feinting, and doubling into which he was often forced, would rather have pleased him, as affording scope for the exercise of ingenuity. but his moral nature was growing so much more sensitive, that he began to recoil from slight departures from truth, in which heretofore he would only have seen a proper exercise of the advantage which a keen and quick intellect possesses over dull ones. moreover, he longed to be able to speak freely to others of the things which he himself found so precious. though quite sufficiently afraid of pain and danger, the thought of disgrace was still more intolerable to him. keener than any suffering he had yet known--except the pang of renouncing beatriz--was the consciousness that all those amongst whom he lived, and who now respected and loved him, would, if they guessed the truth, turn away from him with unutterable scorn and loathing. one day, when walking in the city with his aunt and doña sancha, they turned down a side-street to avoid meeting the death procession of a murderer on his way to the scaffold. the crime for which he suffered had been notorious; and with the voluble exclamations of horror and congratulations at getting safely out of the way to which the ladies gave expression, were mingled prayers for the soul of the miserable man. "if they knew all," thought carlos, as the slight, closely-veiled forms clung trustingly to him for protection, "they would think _me_ worse, more degraded, than yon wretched being. they pity _him_, they pray for _him_; _me_ they would only loathe and execrate. and juan, my beloved, my honoured brother--what will he think?" this last thought was the one that haunted him most frequently and troubled him most deeply. but had he nothing to counter-balance these pangs of fear and shame, these manifold dark misgivings? he had much. first and best, he had the peace that passeth all understanding shed abroad in his heart. its light did not grow pale and faint with time; on the other hand, it increased in brightness and steadiness, as new truths arose like stars upon his soul, every new truth being in itself "a new joy" to him. moreover, he found keen enjoyment in the communion of saints. great was his surprise when, after sufficiently instructing him in private, and satisfactorily testing his sincerity, losada cautiously revealed to him the existence of a regularly-organized lutheran church in seville, of which he himself was actually the pastor. he invited carlos to attend its meetings, which were held, with due precaution, and usually after nightfall, in the house of a lady of rank--doña isabella de baena. carlos readily accepted the perilous invitation, and with deep emotion took his place amongst the band of "called, chosen, and faithful" men and women, every one of whom, as he believed, shared the same joys and hopes that he did. they were not at all such a "little band" as he expected to find them. nor were they, with very few exceptions, of the poor of this world. if that bright southern land, so rich in all that kindles the imagination, eventually to her own ruin rejected the truth of god, at least she offered upon his altar some of her choicest and fairest flowers. many of those who met in doña isabella's upper room were "chief men" and "devout and honourable women." talent, learning, excellence of every kind was largely represented there; so also was the _sangre azul_, the boast of the proud spanish grandees. one of the first faces that carlos recognized was the sweet, thoughtful one of the young doña maria de bohorques, whose precocious learning and accomplishments had often been praised in his hearing, and in whom he had now a new and peculiar interest. there were two noblemen of the first order--don domingo de guzman, son of the duke of medina sidonia, and don juan ponce de leon, son of the count of baylen. carlos had often heard of the munificent charities of the latter, who had actually embarrassed his estates by his unbounded liberality to the poor. but while ponce de leon was thus labouring to relieve the sorrows of others, a deep sadness brooded over his own spirit. he was wont to go forth by night, and pace up and down the great stone platform in the prado san sebastian, that bore the ghastly name of the quemadero, or _burning-place_, while in his heart the shadow of death--the darkest shadow of the dreadest death--was struggling with the light of immortality. did the rest of that devoted band share the agony of apprehension that filled those lonely midnight hours with passionate prayer? some amongst them did, no doubt. but with most, the circumstances and occupations of daily life wove, with their multitudinous slender threads, a veil dense enough to hide, or at least to soften, the perils of their situation. the protestants of seville contrived to pass their lives and to do their work side by side with other men; they moved amongst their fellow-citizens and were not recognized; they even married and were given in marriage; though all the time there fell upon their daily paths the shadow of the grim old fortress where the holy inquisition held its awful secret court. but then, at this period the holy inquisition was by no means exhibiting its usual terrible activity. the inquisitor-general, fernando de valdez, archbishop of seville, was an old man of seventy-four, relentless when roused, but not particularly enterprising. moreover, he was chiefly occupied in amassing enormous wealth from his rich and numerous church preferments. hitherto, the fires of st. dominic had been kindled for jews and moors; only one protestant had suffered death in spain, and valladolid, not seville, had been the scene of his martyrdom. seville, indeed, had witnessed two notable prosecutions for lutheranism--that of rodrigo de valer and that of juan gil, commonly called dr. egidius. but valer had been only sent to a monastery to die, while, by a disgraceful artifice, retraction had been obtained from egidius. during the years that had passed since then, the holy office had appeared to slumber. victims who refused to eat pork, or kept sabbath on saturday, were growing scarce for obvious reasons. and not yet had the wild beast "exceeding dreadful, whose teeth were of iron and his nails of brass," begun to devour a nobler prey. did the monster, gorged with human blood, really slumber in his den; or did he only assume the attitude and appearance of slumber, as some wild beasts are said to do, to lure his unwary victims within the reach of his terrible crouch and spring? no one can certainly tell; but however it may have been, we doubt not the master used the breathing-time thus afforded his church to prepare and polish many a precious gem, destined to shine through all ages in his crown of glory. xiv. the monks of san esodro. "the earnest of eternal joy in every prayer i trace; i see the likeness of the lord in every patient face. how oft, in still communion known, those spirits have been sent to share the travail of my soul, or show me what it meant." a.l. waring. it is amongst the perplexing conditions of our earthly life, that we cannot first reflect, then act; first form our opinions, then, and not till then, begin to carry them out into practice. thought and action have usually to run beside each other in parallel lines; a terrible necessity, and never more terrible than during the progress of momentous inward changes. a man becomes convinced that the star by which he has hitherto been steering is not the true pole-star, and that if he perseveres in his present course his barque will inevitably be lost. at his peril, he must find out the one unerring guide; yet, while he seeks it, his hand must not for an instant quit his hold on the helm, for the winds of circumstance fill his sails, and he cannot choose whether he will go, he can only choose where. this lies at the root of much of the apparent inconsistency which has often been made a reproach to reformers. though carlos did not feel this difficulty as keenly as some of his brethren in the faith, he yet felt it. his uncle was continually pressing him to take orders, and to seek for this or that tempting preferment; whilst every day he had stronger doubts as to the possibility of his accepting any preferment in the church, and was even beginning to entertain scruples about taking orders at all. during this period of deliberation and uncertainty, one of his new friends, fray cassiodoro, an eloquent jeromite friar, who assisted losada in his ministrations, said to him, "if you intend embracing a religious life, señor don carlos, you will find the white tunic and brown mantle of st. jerome more to your taste than any other habit." carlos pondered the hint; and shortly afterwards announced to his relatives that he intended to "go into retreat" for a season, at the jeromite convent of san isodro del campo, which was about two miles from seville. his uncle approved this resolution; and none the less, because he thought it was probably intended as a preparation for taking the cowl. "after all, nephew, it may turn out that you have the longest head amongst us," he said. "in the race for wealth and honours, no man can doubt that the regulars beat the seculars now-a-days. and there is not a saint in all the spains so popular as st. jerome. you know the proverb,-- "'he who is a count, and to be a duke aspires, let him straight to guadaloupe, and sing among the friars.'" gonsalvo, who was present, here looked up from his book and observed sharply,-- "no man will ever be a duke who changes his mind three times within three months." "but i only changed my mind once," returned carlos. "you have never changed it at all, that i wot of," said don manuel. "and i would that thine were turned in the same profitable direction, son gonsalvo." "oh yes! by all means. offer the blind and the lame in sacrifice. put heaven off with the wreck of a man that the world will not condescend to take into her service." "hold thy peace, son born to cross me!" said the father, losing his temper at by no means the worst of the many provocations he had recently received. "is it not enough to look at thee lying there a useless log, and to suffer thy vile temper; but thou must set thyself against me, when i point out to thee the only path in which a cripple such as thou could earn green figs to eat with his bread, not to speak of supporting the rank of alvarez de meñaya as he ought." here carlos, out of consideration for the feelings of gonsalvo, left the room; but the angry altercation between the father and son lasted long after his departure. the next day don carlos rode out, by a lonely path amidst the gray ruins of old italica, to the stately castellated convent of san isodro. amidst all his new interests, the young castilian noble still remembered with due enthusiasm how the building had been reared, more than two hundred years ago, by the devotion of the heroic alonzo guzman the good, who gave up his own son to death, under the walls of tarifa, rather than surrender the city to the moors. before he left seville, he placed a copy of fray constantino's "sum of christian doctrine" between two volumes of gonsalvo's favourite "lope de vega." he had previously introduced to the notice of the ladies several of the fray's little treatises, which contained a large amount of scripture truth, so cautiously expressed as to have not only escaped the censure, but actually obtained the express approbation of the holy office. he had also induced them occasionally to accompany him to the preachings at the cathedral. further than this he dared not go; nor did he on other accounts think it advisable, as yet, to permit himself much communication with doña beatriz. the monks of san isodro welcomed him with that strong, peculiar love which springs up between the disciples of the same lord, more especially when they are a little flock surrounded by enemies. they knew that he was already one of the initiated, a regular member of losada's congregation. both this fact, and the warm recommendations of fray cassiodoro, led them to trust him implicitly; and very quickly they made him a sharer in their secrets, their difficulties, and their perplexities. to his astonishment, he found himself in the midst of a community, protestant in heart almost to a man, and as far as possible acting out their convictions; while at the same time they retained (how could they discard them?) the outward ceremonies of their church and their order. he soon fraternized with a gentle, pious young monk named fray fernando, and asked him to explain this extraordinary state of things. "i am but just out of my novitiate, having been here little more than a year," said the young man, who was about his own age; "and already, when i came, the fathers carefully instructed the novices out of the scriptures, exhorting us to lay no stress upon outward ceremonies, penances, crosses, holy water, and the like. but i have often heard them speak of the manner in which they were led to adopt these views." "who was their teacher? fray cassiodoro?" "latterly; not at first. it was dr. blanco who sowed the first seed of truth here." "whom do you mean? we in the city give the name of dr. blanco (the white doctor), from his silver hairs, to a man of your holy order, certainly, but one most zealous for the old faith. he is a friend and confidant of the inquisitors, if indeed he is not himself a qualificator of heresy:[ ] i speak of dr. garçias ariâs." [ ] one of the learned men who were appointed to assist the inquisitors, and whose duty is was to decide whether doubtful propositions were, or were not, heretical. "the same man. you are astonished, señor; nevertheless it is true. the elder brethren say that when he came to the convent all were sunk in ignorance and superstition. the monks cared for nothing but vain repetitions of unfelt prayers, and showy mummeries of idle ceremonial. but the white doctor told them all these would avail them nothing, unless their hearts were given to god, and they worshipped him in spirit and in truth. they listened, were convinced, began to study the holy scriptures as he recommended them, and truly to seek him who is revealed therein." "'out of the eater came forth meat,'" said carlos. "i am truly amazed to hear of such teaching from the lips of garçias ariâs." "not more amazed than the brethren were by his after conduct," returned fray fernando. "just when they had received the truth with joy, and were beginning heartily to follow it, their teacher suddenly changed his tone, and addressed himself diligently to the task of building up the things that he once destroyed. when lent came round, the burden of his preaching was nothing but penance and mortification of the flesh. no less would content him than that the poor brethren should sleep on the bare ground, or standing; and wear sackcloth and iron girdles. they could not tell what to make of these bewildering instructions. some followed them, others clung to the simpler faith they had learned to love, many tried to unite both. in fact, the convent was filled with confusion, and several of the brethren were driven half distracted. but at last god put it into their hearts to consult dr. egidius. your excellency is well acquainted with his history, doubtless?" "not so well as i should like to be. still, for the present, let us keep to the brethren. did dr. egidius confirm their faith?" "that he did, señor; and in many ways he led them into a further acquaintance with the truth." "and that enigma, dr. blanco?" fray fernando shook his head. "whether his mind was really changed, or whether he concealed his true opinions through fear, or through love of the present world, i know not. i should not judge him." "no," said carlos, softly. "it is not for us, who have never been tried, to judge those who have failed in the day of trial. but it must be a terrible thing to fail, fray fernando." "as good dr. egidius did himself. ah, señor, if you had but seen him when he came forth from his prison! his head was bowed, his hair was white; they who spoke with him say his heart was well-nigh broken. still he was comforted, and thanked god, when he saw the progress the truth had made during his imprisonment, both in valladolid and in seville, especially amongst the brethren here. his visit was of great use to us. but the most precious boon we ever received was a supply of god's word in our own tongue, which was brought to us some months ago." carlos looked at him eagerly. "i think i know whose hand brought it," he said. "you cannot fail to know, señor. you have doubtless heard of juliano el chico?" the colour rose to the cheek of carlos as he answered, "i shall thank god all my life, and beyond it, that i have not heard of him alone, but met him. he it was who put this book into my hand," and he drew out his own testament. "we also have good cause to thank him. and we mean that others shall have it through us. for the books he brought we not only use ourselves, but diligently circulate far and wide, according to our ability." "it is strange to know so little of a man, and yet to owe him so much. can you tell me anything more than the name, juliano hernandez, which i repeat every day when i ask god in my prayers to bless and reward him?" "i only know he is a poor, unlearned man, a native of villaverda, in campos. he went to germany, and entered the service of juan peres, who, as you are aware, translated the testament, and printed it, juliano aiding in the work as compositor. he then undertook, of his own free will, the task of bringing a supply into this country; you well know how perilous a task, both the sea-ports and the passes of the pyrenees being so closely watched by the emissaries of the holy office. juliano chose the overland journey, since, knowing the mountains well, he thought he could manage to make his way unchallenged by some of their hazardous, unfrequented paths. god be thanked, he arrived in safety with his precious freight early last summer." "do you know where he is now?" "no. doubtless he is wandering somewhere, perhaps not far distant, carrying on, in darkness and silence, his noble missionary work." "what would i give--rather, what would i not give--to see him once more, to take his hand in mine, and to thank him for what he has done for me!" "ah, there is the vesper bell. you know, señor, that fray cristobal is to lecture this evening on the epistle to the hebrews. that is why i love tuesday best of all days in the week." fray cristobal d'arellano was a monk of san isodro, remarkable for his great learning, which was consecrated to the task of explaining and spreading the reformed doctrines. carlos put himself under the tuition of this man, to perfect his knowledge of greek, a language of which he had learned very little, and that little very imperfectly, at alcala. he profited exceedingly by the teaching he received, and partially repaid the obligation by instructing the novices in latin, a task which was very congenial to him, and which he performed with much success. xv. the great sanbenito. "the thousands that, uncheered by praise, have made one offering of their days; for truth's, for heaven's, for freedom's sake, resigned the bitter cup to take." hemans. young as was the protestant church in seville, she already had her history. there was one name that carlos had heard mentioned in connection with her first origin, round which there gathered in his thoughts a peculiar interest, or rather fascination. he knew now that the monks of san isodro had been largely indebted to the instructions of doctor juan gil, or egidius. and he had been told previously that egidius himself had learned the truth from an earlier and bolder witness, rodrigo de valer. this was the name that losada once coupled in his hearing with that of his own father. why then had he not sought information, which might have proved so deeply interesting to him, directly from losada himself, his friend and teacher? several causes contributed to his reluctance to broach the subject. but by far the greatest was a kind of chivalrous, half romantic tenderness for that absent brother, whom he could now truly say that he loved best on earth. it is very difficult for us to put ourselves in the position of spaniards of the sixteenth century, so far as at all to understand the way in which they were accustomed to look upon heresy. in their eyes it was not only a crime, infinitely more dreadful than that of murder; it was also a horrible disgrace, branding a man's whole lineage up and down for generations, and extending its baleful influence to his remotest kindred. carlos asked himself, day by day, how would the high-hearted don juan alvarez, whose idol was glory, and his dearest pride a noble and venerated name, endure to hear that his beloved and only brother was stained with that surpassing infamy? but at least it would be anguish enough to stab juan once, as it were, with his own hand, without arming the dead hand of the father whose memory they both revered, and then driving home the weapon into his brother's heart. rather would he let the matter remain in obscurity, even if (which was extremely doubtful) he could by any effort of his own shed a ray of light upon it. still he took occasion one day to inquire of his friend fray fernando, who had received full information on these subjects from the older monks, "was not that rodrigo de valer, whose sanbenito hangs in the cathedral, the first teacher of the pure faith in seville?" "true, señor, he taught many. while he himself, as i have heard, received the faith from none save god only." "he must have been a remarkable man. tell me all you know of him." "our fray cassiodoro has often heard dr. egidius speak of him; so that, though his lips were silenced long before your time or mine, señor, he seems still one of our company." "yes, already some of our number have joined the church triumphant, but they are still one with us in christ." "don rodrigo de valer," continued the young monk, "was of a noble family, and very wealthy. he was born at lebrixa, but came to reside in seville, a gay, light-hearted, brilliant young caballero, who was soon a leader in all the folly and fashion of the great city. but suddenly these things lost their charm for him. much to the astonishment of the gay world, to which he had been such an ornament, he disappeared from the scenes of amusement and festivity he had been wont to love. his companions could not understand the change that came over him--but _we_ can understand it well. god's arrows of conviction were sharp in his heart. and he led him to turn for comfort, not to penance and self-mortification, but to his own word. only in one form was that word accessible to him. he gathered up the fragments of his old school studies--little cared for at the time, and well-nigh forgotten afterwards--to enable him to read the vulgate. there he found justification by faith, and through it, peace to his troubled conscience. but he did not find, as i need scarcely say to you, don carlos, purgatory, the worship of our lady and the saints, and certain other things our fathers taught us." "how long since was all this?" asked carlos, who was listening with much interest, and at the same time comparing the narrative with that other story he had heard from dolores. "long enough, señor. twenty years ago or more. when god had thus enlightened him, he returned to the world. but he returned to it a new man, determined henceforth to know nothing save christ and him crucified. he addressed himself in the first instance to the priests and monks, whom, with a boldness truly amazing, he accosted wherever he met them, were it even in the most public places of the city, proving to them from scripture that their doctrines were not the truth of god." "it was no hopeful soil in which to sow the word." "no, truly; but it seemed laid upon him as a burden from god to speak what he felt and knew, whether men would hear or whether they would forbear. he very soon aroused the bitter enmity of those who hate the light because their deeds are evil. had he been a poor man, he would have been burned at the stake, as that brave, honest-hearted young convert, francisco de san romano, was burned at valladolid not so long ago, saying to those who offered him mercy at the last, 'did you envy me my happiness?' but don rodrigo's rank and connections saved him from that fate. i have heard, too, that there were those in high places who shared, or at least favoured his opinions in secret. such interceded for him." "then his words were received by some?" carlos asked anxiously. "have you ever heard the names of any of those who were his friends or patrons?" fray fernando shook his head. "even amongst ourselves, señor," he said, "names are not mentioned oftener than is needful. for 'a bird of the air will carry the matter;' and when life depends on our silence, it is no wonder if at last we become a trifle over-silent. in the lapse of years, some names that ought to be remembered amongst us may well chance to be forgotten, from this dread of breathing them, even in a whisper. always excepting dr. egidius, don rodrigo's friends or converts are unknown to me. but i was about to say, the inquisitors were prevailed upon, by those who interceded for him, to regard him as insane. they dismissed him, therefore, with no more severe penalty than the loss of his property, and with many cautions as to his future behaviour." "i hold it scarce likely that he observed them." "very far otherwise, señor. for a short time, indeed, his friends prevailed on him to express his sentiments more privately; and fray cassiodoro says that during this interval he confirmed them in the faith by expounding the epistle to the romans. but he could not long hide the light he held. to all remonstrances he answered, that he was a soldier sent on a forlorn hope, and must needs press forward to the breach. if he fell, it mattered not; in his place god would raise up others, whose would be the glory and the joy of victory. so, once again, the holy office laid its grasp upon him. it was resolved that his voice should be heard no more on earth; and he was therefore consigned to the living death of perpetual imprisonment. and yet, in spite of all their care and all their malice, one more testimony for god and his truth was heard from his lips." "how was that?" "they led him, robed in that great sanbenito you have often seen, to the church of san salvador, to sit and listen, with the other weeping penitents, while some ignorant priest denounced their heresies and blasphemies. but he was not afraid after the sermon to stand up in his place, and warn the people against the preacher's erroneous doctrine, showing them where and how it differed from the word of god. it is marvellous they did not burn him; but god restrained the remainder of their wrath. they sent him at last to the monastery of san lucar, where he remained in solitary confinement until his death." carlos mused a little. then he said, "what a blessed change, from solitary confinement to the company of just men made perfect; from the gloom of a convent prison to the glory of god's house, eternal in the heavens!" "some of the elder brethren say _we_ may be called upon to pass through trials even more severe," remarked fray fernando. "i know not. being amongst the youngest here, i should speak my mind with humility; still i cannot help looking around me, and seeing that everywhere men are receiving the word of god with joy. think of the learned and noble men and women in the city who have joined our band already, and are eager to gain others! new converts are won for us every day; not to speak of that great multitude among fray constantino's hearers who are really on our side, without dreaming it themselves. moreover, your noble friend, don carlos de seso, told us last summer that the signs in the north are equally encouraging. he thinks the lutherans of valladolid are more numerous than those of seville. in toro and logrono also the light is spreading rapidly. and throughout the districts near the pyrenees the word has free course, thanks to the huguenot traders from béarn." "i have heard these things in seville, and truly my heart rejoices at them. but yet--" here carlos broke off suddenly, and remained silent, gazing mournfully into the fire, near which, as it was now winter, they had seated themselves. at last fray fernando asked, "what do _you_ think, señor?" carlos raised his dark blue eyes and fixed them on the questioner's face. "of the future," he said slowly, "i think--_nothing_. i dare not think of it. it is in god's hand, and he thinks for us. still, one thing i cannot choose but see. where we are we cannot remain. we are bound to a great wheel that is turning--turning--and turn with it, even in spite of ourselves, we must and do. but it is the wheel, not of chance, but of god's mighty purposes; that is all our comfort." "and those purposes, are they not mercy and truth unto our beloved land?" "they may be; but i know not. they are not revealed. 'mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant,' that indeed is written." "we are they that keep his covenant." carlos sighed, and resumed the thread of his own thought,-- "the wheel turns round, and we with it. even since i came here it has turned perceptibly. and how it is to turn one step further without bringing us into contact with the solid frame of things as they are, and so crushing us, truly i see not. i see not; but i trust god." "you allude to these discussions about the sacrifice of the mass now going on so continually amongst us?" "i do. hitherto we have been able to work underground; but if doubt must be thrown upon _that_, the thin shell of earth that has concealed and protected us, will break and fall in upon our heads. and then?" "already we are all asking, 'and then?'" said fray fernando. "there will be nothing before us but flight to some foreign land." "and how, in god's name, is that to be accomplished? but god forgive me these words; and god keep me, and all of us, from the subtle snare of mixing with the question, 'what is his will?' that other question, 'what will be our fate if we try to do it?' as the noble de seso said to me, all that matters to us is to be found amongst those who 'follow the lamb whithersoever he goeth.' _but he went to calvary._" the last words were spoken in so low a tone that fray fernando heard them not. "what did you say?" he asked. "no matter. time enough to hear if god himself speaks it in our ears." their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a lay brother, who informed carlos that a visitor awaited him in the convent parlour. as it was one of the hours during which the rules of the house (which were quite liberal enough, without being lax) permitted the entertainment of visitors, carlos went to receive his without much delay. he knew that if the guest had been one of "their own," their loved brethren in the faith, even the attendant would have been well acquainted with his person, and would naturally have named him. he entered the room, therefore, with no very lively anticipations; expecting, at most, to see one of his cousins, who might have paid him the compliment of riding out from the city to visit him. a tall, handsome, sunburnt man, who had his left arm in a sling, was standing with his back to the window. but in one moment more the other arm was flung round the neck of carlos, and heart pressed to heart, and lip to lip--the brothers stood together. xvi. welcome home. "we are so unlike each other, thou and i, that none would guess we were children of one mother, but for mutual tenderness." e.b. browning. after the first tumult of greeting, in which affection was expressed rather by look and gesture than by word, the brothers sat down and talked. eager questions rose to the lips of both, but especially to those of carlos, whose surprise at juan's unexpected appearance only equalled his delight. "but you are wounded, my brother," he said. "not seriously, i hope?" "oh no! only a bullet through my arm. a piece of my usual good luck. i got it in the battle." no adjective was needed to specify the glorious day of st. quentin, when flemish egmont's chivalrous courage, seconded by castilian bravery, gained for king philip such a brilliant victory over the arms of france. carlos knew the story already from public sources. and it did not occur to juan, nor indeed to carlos either, that there had ever been, or would ever be again, a battle so worthy of being held in everlasting remembrance. "but do you count the wound part of your good luck?" asked carlos. "ay, truly, and well i may. it has brought me home; as you ought to have known ere this." "i received but two letters from you--that written on your first arrival, and dated from cambray; and that which told of your notable prize, the french prisoner." "but i wrote two others: one, i entrusted to a soldier who was coming home invalided--i suppose the fellow lost it; the other (written just after the great st. laurence's day) arrived in seville the night before i made my own appearance there. his majesty will need to look to his posts; certes, they are the slowest carriers to be found in any christian country." and juan's merry laugh rang through the convent parlour, little enough used to echo such sounds. "so i have heard almost nothing of you, brother; save what could be gathered from the public accounts," carlos continued. "all the better now. i have only such news as is pleasant for me to tell; and will not be ill, i think, for thee to hear. first, then, and in due order--i am promised my company!" "good news, indeed! my brother must have honoured our name by some special deed of valour. was it at st. quentin?" asked carlos, looking at him with honest, brotherly pride. he was not much changed by his campaign, except that his dark cheek wore a deeper bronze, and his face was adorned with a formidable pair of _bigotes_. "that story must wait," returned juan. "i have so much else to tell thee. dost thou remember how i said, as a boy, that i should take a noble prisoner, like alphonso vives, and enrich myself by his ransom? and thou seest i have done it." "in a good day! still, he was not the duke of saxony." "like him, at least, in being a heretic, or huguenot, if that be a less unsavoury word to utter in these holy precincts. moreover, he is a tried and trusted officer of admiral coligny's suite. it was that day when the admiral so gallantly threw himself into the besieged town. and, for my part, i am heartily obliged to him. but for his presence, there would have been no defence of st. quentin, to speak of, at all; but for the defence, no battle; but for the battle, no grand victory for the spains and king philip. we cut off half of the admiral's troops, however, and it fell to my lot to save the life of a brave french officer whom i saw fighting alone amongst a crowd. he gave me his sword; and i led him to my tent, and provided him with all the solace and succour i could, for he was sorely wounded. he was the sieur de ramenais; a gentleman of provence, and an honest, merry-hearted, valiant man, as it was ever my lot to meet withal. he shared my bed and board, a pleasant guest rather than a prisoner, until we took the town, making the admiral himself our captive, as you know already. by that time, his brother had raised the sum for his ransom, and sent it honourably to me. but, in any case, i should have dismissed him on parole, as soon as his wounds were healed. he was pleased to give me, beside the good gold pistoles, this diamond ring you see on my finger, in token of friendship." carlos took the costly trinket in his hand, and duly admired it. he did not fail to gather from juan's simple narrative many things that he told not, and was little likely to tell. in the time of action, chivalrous daring; when the conflict was over, gentleness and generosity no less chivalrous, endearing him to all--even to the vanquished enemy. no wonder carlos was proud of his brother! but beneath all the pride and joy there was, even already, a secret whisper of fear. how could he bear to see that noble brow clouded with anger--those bright confiding eyes averted from him in disdain? turning from his own thoughts as if they had been guilty things, he asked quickly,-- "but how did you obtain leave of absence?" "through the kindness of his highness." "the duke of savoy?" "of course. and a braver general i would never ask to serve." "i thought it might have been from the king himself, when he came to the camp after the battle." don juan's cheek glowed with modest triumph. "his highness was good enough to point me out to his catholic majesty," he said. "and the king spoke to me himself!" it is difficult for us to understand how a few formal words of praise from the lips of one of the meanest and vilest of men could be looked upon by the really noble-hearted don juan alvarez as almost the crowning joy of his life. with the enthusiastic loyalty of his age and country he honoured philip the king; philip the man being all the time a personage as utterly unknown to him as the sultan of turkey. but not choosing to expatiate upon a theme so flattering to himself, he continued,-- "the duke contrived to send me home with despatches, saying kindly that he thought my wound required a little rest and care. though i had affairs of importance" (and here the colour mounted to his brow) "to settle in seville, i would not have quitted the camp, with my goodwill, had we been about any enterprise likely to give us fair fighting. but in truth carlos, things have been abundantly dull since the fall of st. quentin. though we have our king with us, and henry of france and the duke of guise have both joined the enemy, all are standing at gaze as if they were frozen, and doomed to stay there motionless till the day of judgment. i have no mind for that kind of sport, not i! i became a soldier to fight his catholic majesty's battles, not to stare at his enemies as if they were puppets paid to make a show for my amusement. so i was not sorry to take leave of absence." "and your important business in seville. may a brother ask what that means?" "a brother may ask what he pleases, and be answered. wish me joy, carlos; i have arranged that little matter with doña beatriz." and his light words half hid, half revealed the great deep joy of his own strong heart. "my uncle," he continued, "is favourable to my views; indeed, i have never known him so friendly. we are to have our betrothal feast at christmas, when your time of retreat here is over." carlos "wished him joy" most sincerely. fervently did he thank god that it was in his power to do it; that the snare that had once wound itself so subtly around his footsteps was broken, and his soul escaped. he could now meet his brother's eye without self-reproach. still, this seemed sudden. he said, "certainly you did not lose time." "why should i?" asked juan with simplicity. "'by-and-by is always too late,' as thou wert wont to say; and i would they learned that proverb at the camp. in truth," he added more gravely, "i often feared, during my stay there, that i might have lost all through my tardiness. but thou wert a good brother to me, carlos." "mayest thou ever think so, brother mine," said carlos, not without a pang, as his conscience told him how little he deserved the praise. "but what in the world," asked juan hastily, "has induced thee to bury thyself here, amongst these drowsy monks?" "the brethren are excellent men, learned and pious. and i am not buried," carlos returned with a smile. "and if thou wert buried ten fathoms deep, thou shouldst come up out of the grave when i need thee to stand beside me." "do not fear for that. now thou art come, i will not prolong my stay here, as otherwise i might have done. but i have been very happy here, juan." "i am glad to hear it," said the merry-hearted, unsuspecting juan. "i am glad also that you are not in too great haste to tie yourself down to the church's service; though our honoured uncle seems to wish you had a keener eye to your own interest, and a better look-out for fat benefices. but i believe his own sons have appropriated all the stock of worldly prudence meant for the whole family, leaving none over for thee and me, carlos." "that is true of don manuel and don balthazar, not of gonsalvo." "gonsalvo! he is far the worst of the three," juan exclaimed, with something like anger in his open, sunny face. carlos laughed. "i suppose he has been favouring you with his opinion of me," he said. "if he were not a poor miserable weakling and cripple, i should answer him with the point of my good sword. however, this is idle talk. little brother" (carlos being nearly as tall as himself, the diminutive was only a term of affection, recalling the days of their childhood, and more suited to masculine lips than its equivalent, dear)--"little brother, you look grave and pale, and ten years older than when we parted at alcala." "do i? much has happened with me since. i have been very sorrowful and very happy." don juan laid his available hand on his brother's shoulder, and looked him earnestly in the face. "no secrets from me, little brother," he said. "if thou dost not like the service of holy church after all, speak out, and thou shalt go back with me to france, or to anywhere else in the known world that thou wilt. there may be some fair lady in the case," he added, with a keen and searching glance. "no, brother--not that. i have indeed much to tell thee, but not now--not to-day." "choose thine own time; only remember, no secrets. that were the one unbrotherly act i could never forgive." "but i am not yet satisfied about your wound," said carlos, with perhaps a little moral cowardice, turning the conversation. "was the bone broken?" "no, fortunately; only grazed. it would not have signified, but for the treatment of the blundering barber-surgeon. i was advised to show it to some man of skill; and already my cousins have recommended to me one who is both physician and surgeon, and very able, they say." "dr. cristobal losada?" "the same. your favourite, don gonsalvo, has just been prevailed upon to make trial of his skill." "i am heartily glad of it," returned carlos. "there is a change of mind on his part, equal to any wherewith he can reproach me; and a change for the better, i have little doubt." thus the conversation wandered on; touching many subjects, exhausting none; and never again drawing dangerously near those deep places which one of the brothers knew must be thoroughly explored, and that at no distant day. for juan's sake, for the sake of one whom he loved even more than juan, he dared not--nay, he would not--avoid the task. but he needed, or thought he needed, consideration and prayer, that he might speak the truth wisely, as well as bravely, to that beloved brother. xvii. disclosures. "no distance breaks the tie of blood; brothers are brothers evermore; nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, that magic may o'erpower." keble. the opportunity for free converse with his brother which carlos desired, yet dreaded, was unexpectedly postponed. it would have been in accordance neither with the ideas of the time nor with his own feelings to have shortened his period of retreat in the monastery, though he would not now prolong it. and though don juan did not fail to make his appearance upon every day when visitors were admitted, he was always accompanied by either of his cousins don manuel or don balthazar, or by both. these shallow, worldly-minded young men were little likely to allow for the many things, in which strangers might not intermeddle, that brothers long parted might find to say to each other; they only thought that they were conferring a high honour on their poorer relatives by their favour and notice. in their presence the conversation was necessarily confined to the incidents of juan's campaign, and to family matters. whether don balthazar would obtain a post he was seeking under government; whether doña sancha would eventually bestow the inestimable favour of her hand upon don beltran vivarez or don alonso de giron; and whether the disappointed suitor would stab himself or his successful rival;--these were questions of which carlos soon grew heartily weary. but in all that concerned beatriz he was deeply interested. whatever he may once have allowed himself to fancy about the sentiments of a very young and childish girl, he never dreamed that she would make, or even desire to make, any opposition to the expressed wish of her guardian, who destined her for juan. he was sure that she would learn quickly enough to love his brother as he deserved, even if she did not already do so. and it gave him keen pleasure that his sacrifice had not been in vain; that the wine-cup of joy which he had just tasted, then put steadily aside, was being drained to the dregs by the lips he loved best. it is true this pleasure was not yet unmixed with pain, but the pain was less than a few months ago he would have believed possible. the wound which he once thought deadly, was in process of being healed; nay, it was nearly healed already. but the scar would always remain. grand and mighty, but perplexing and mournful thoughts were filling his heart every day more and more. amongst the subjects eagerly and continually discussed with the brethren of san isodro, the most prominent just now was the sole priesthood of christ, with the impossibility of his one perfect and sufficient sacrifice being ever repeated. but these truths, in themselves so glorious, had for those who dared to admit them one terrible consequence. their full acknowledgment would transform "the main altar's consummation," the sacrifice of the mass, from the highest act of christian worship into a hideous lie, dishonouring to god, and ruinous to man. to this conclusion the monks of san isodro were drawing nearer slowly but surely every day. and carlos was side by side with the most advanced of them in the path of progress. though timid in action, he was bold in speculation. to his keen, quick intellect to think and to reason was a necessity; he could not rest content with surface truths, nor leave any matter in which he was interested without probing it to its depths. but as far at least as the monks were concerned, the conclusion now imminent was practically a most momentous one. it must transform the light that illuminated them into a fire that would burn and torture the hands that held and tried to conceal it. they could only guard themselves from loss and injury, perhaps from destruction, by setting it on the candle-stick of a true and faithful profession. "better," said the brethren to each other, "leave behind us the rich lands and possessions of our order; what are these things in comparison to a conscience void of offence towards god and towards man? let us go forth and seek shelter in some foreign land, destitute exiles but faithful witnesses for christ, having purchased to ourselves the liberty of confessing his name before men." this plan was the most popular with the community; though there were some that objected to it, not because of the loss of worldly wealth it would entail, but because of its extreme difficulty, and the peril in which it would involve others. that the question might be fully discussed and some course of action resolved upon, the monks of san isodro convened a solemn chapter. carlos had not, of course, the right to be present, though his friends would certainly inform him immediately afterwards of all that passed. so he whiled away part of the anxious hours by a walk in the orange grove belonging to the monastery. it was now december, and there had been a frost--not very usual in that mild climate. every blade of grass was gemmed with tiny jewels, which were crushed by his footsteps as he passed along. he fancied them like the fair and sparkling, but unreal dreams of the creed in which he had been nurtured. they must perish; even should he weakly turn aside to spare them, god's sun would not fail ere long to dissolve them with the warmth of its beams. but wherefore mourn them? would not the sun shine on still, and the blue sky, the emblem of eternal truth and love, still stretch above his head? therefore he would look up--up, and not down. forgetting the things that were behind, and reaching forth unto those that were before, he would fain press forward towards the mark for the prize. and then his heart went up in fervent prayer that not only he himself, but also all those who shared his faith, might be enabled so to do. turning into a path leading back through the grove to the monastery, he saw his brother coming towards him. "i was seeking thee," said don juan. "and always welcome. but why so early? on a friday too!" "wherein is friday worse than thursday?" asked juan with a laugh. "you are not a monk, or even a novice, to be bound by rules so strict that you may not say, 'vaya con dios' to your brother without asking leave of my lord abbot." carlos had often noticed, not with displeasure, the freedom which juan since his return assumed in speaking of churchmen and church ordinances. he answered, "i am only bound by the general rules of the house, to which it is seemly that visitors should conform. to-day the brethren are holding a chapter to confer upon matters pertaining to their discipline. i cannot well bring you in-doors; but we do not need a better parlour than this." "true. i care for no roof save god's sky; and as for glazed and grated windows, i abhor them. were i thrown into prison, i should die in a week. i made an early start for san isodro, on an unusual day, to get rid of the company of my excellent but tiresome cousins; for in truth i am sick unto death of their talk and their courtesies. moreover, i have ten thousand things to tell you, brother." "i have a few for your ear also." "let us sit down. here is a pleasant seat which some of your brethren contrived to rest their weary limbs and enjoy the prospect. they know how to be comfortable, these monks." they sat down accordingly. for more than an hour don juan was the chief speaker; and as he spoke out of the abundance of his heart, it was no wonder that the name oftenest on his lips was that of doña beatriz. of the long and circumstantial story that he poured into the sympathizing ear of carlos no more than this is necessary to repeat--that beatriz not only did not reject him (no well-bred spanish girl would behave in such a singular manner to a suitor recommended by her guardian), but actually looked kindly, nay, even smiled upon him. his exhilaration was in consequence extreme; and its expression might have proved tedious to any listener not deeply interested in his welfare. at last, however, the subject was dismissed. "so my path lies clear and plain before me," said juan, his fine determined face glowing with resolution and hope. "a soldier's life, with its toils and prizes; and a happy home at nuera, with a sweet face to welcome me when i return. and, sooner or later, _that_ voyage to the indies. but you, carlos--speak out, for i confess you perplex me--what do _you_ wish and intend?" "had you asked me that question a few months, i might almost say a few weeks, ago, i should not have hesitated, as now i do, for an answer." "you were ever willing, more than willing, for holy church's service. i know but one cause which could alter your mind; and to the tender accusation you have already pleaded not guilty." "the plea is a true one." "certes; it cannot be that you have been seized with a sudden passion for a soldier's life," laughed juan. "that was never your taste, little brother; and with all respect for you, i scarce think your achievements with sword and arquebus would be specially brilliant. but there is something wrong with you," he said in an altered tone, as he gazed in his brother's anxious face. "not _wrong_, but--" "i have it!" said juan, joyously interrupting him. "you are in debt. that is soon mended, brother. in fact, it is my fault. i have had far too large a share already of what should have been for both of us alike. in future--" "hush, brother. i have always had enough, more than i needed. and thou hast many expenses, and wilt have more henceforward, whilst i shall only want a doublet and hosen, and a pair of shoes." "and a cassock and gown?" carlos was silent. "i vow it is a harder task to comprehend you than to chase coligny's guard with my single arm! and you so pious, so good a christian! if you were a dull rough soldier like me, and if you had had a huguenot prisoner (and a very fine fellow, too) to share your bed and board for months, one could comprehend your not liking certain things over well, or even"--and juan averted his face and lowered his voice--"your having certain evil thoughts you would scarcely care to breathe in the ears of your father confessor." "brother, i too have had thoughts," said carlos eagerly. but juan suddenly tossed off his montero, and ran his fingers through his black glossy hair. in old times this gesture used to be a sign that he was going to speak seriously. after a moment he began, but with a little hesitation, for in fact he held the _mind_ of carlos in as true and unfeigned reverence as carlos held his _character_. and that is enough to say, without mentioning the additional respect with which he regarded him, as almost a priest. "brother carlos, you are good and pious. you were thus from childhood; and therefore it is that you are fit for the service of holy church. you rise and go to rest, you read your books, and tell your beads, and say your prayers, all just as you are ordered. it is the best life for you, and for any man who _can_ live it, and be content with it. you do not sin, you do not doubt; therefore you will never come into any grief or trouble. but let me tell you, little brother, you have a scant notion what men meet with who go forth into the great world and fight their way in it; seeing on every side of them things that, take them as they may, will _not_ always square with the faith they have learned in childhood." "brother, i also have struggled and suffered. i also have doubted." "oh yes, a churchman's doubts! you had only to tell yourself doubt was a sin, to make the sign of the cross, to say an ave or two, then there was an end of your doubts. 'twere a different matter if you had the evil one in the shape of an angel of light--at least in that of a courteous, well-bred huguenot gentleman, with as nice a sense of honour as any catholic christian--at your side continually, to whisper that the priests are no better than they ought to be, that the church needs reform; and heaven knows what more, and worse, beside.--now, my pious brother, if thou art going to curse me with bell, book, and candle, begin at once. i am ready, and prepared to be duly penitent. let me first put on my cap though, for it is cold," and he suited the action to the word. the voice in which carlos answered him was low and tremulous with emotion. "instead of cursing thee, brother beloved, i bless thee from my heart for words which give me courage to speak. i have doubted--nay, why should i shrink from the truth? i have learned, as i believe, from god himself that some things which the church teaches as her doctrines are only the commandments of men." don juan started, and his colour changed. his vaguely liberal ideas were far from having prepared him for this. "what do you mean?" he cried, staring at his brother in amazement. "that i am now, in very truth, what i think you would call--_a huguenot_." the die was cast. the avowal was made. carlos waited its effects in breathless silence, as one who has fired a powder magazine might await the explosion. "may all the holy saints have mercy upon us!" cried juan, in a voice that echoed through the grove. but after that one involuntary cry he was silent. the eyes of carlos sought his face, but he turned away from him. at last he muttered, striking with his sword at the trunk of a tree that was near him, "huguenot--protestant--_heretic_!" "brother," said carlos, rising and standing before him--"brother, say what thou wilt, only speak to me. reproach me, curse me, strike me, if it please thee, only speak to me." juan turned, gazed full in his imploring face, and slowly, very slowly, allowed the sword to fall from his hand. there was a moment of doubt, of hesitation. then he stretched out that hand to his brother. "they who list may curse thee, but not i," he said. carlos strained the offered hand in so close a grasp that his own was cut by his brother's diamond ring, and the blood flowed. for a long time both were silent, juan in amazement, perhaps in consternation; carlos in deep thankfulness. his confession was made, and his brother loved him still. at last juan spoke, slowly and as if half bewildered. "the sieur de ramenais believes in god, and in our lord and his passion. and you?" carlos repeated the apostles' creed in the vulgar tongue. "and in our lady, mary, mother of god?" "i believe that she was the most blessed among women, the holiest among the holy saints. yet i ask her intercession no more. i am too well assured of his love who says to me; and to all who keep his word, 'my brother, my sister, my mother.'" "i thought devotion to our lady was the surest mark of piety," said juan, in utter perplexity. "then, i am only a man of the world. but oh, my brother, this is frightful!" he paused a moment, then added more calmly, "still, i have learned that huguenots are not beasts with horns and hoofs; but, possibly, brave and honourable men enough, as good, for this world, as their neighbours. and yet--the disgrace!" his dark cheek flushed, then grew pale, as there rose before his mind's eye an appalling vision--his brother robed in a hideous sanbenito, bearing a torch in the ghastly procession of an _auto-da-fé_! "you have kept your secret as your life? my uncle and his family suspect nothing?" he asked anxiously. "nothing, thank god." "and who taught you this accursed--these doctrines?" carlos briefly told the story of his first acquaintance with the spanish new testament; suppressing, however, all mention of the personal sorrow that had made its teaching so precious to him; nor did he think it expedient to give the name of juliano hernandez. "the church may need reform. i am sure she does," juan candidly admitted. "but carlos, my brother," he added, while the expression of his face softened gradually into mournful, pitying tenderness, "little brother, in old times so gentle, so timid, hast thou dreamed--of the peril? i speak not now of the disgrace--god wot that is hard enough to think of--hard enough," he repeated bitterly. "but the peril?" carlos was silent; his hands were clasped, his eyes raised upwards, full of thought, perhaps of prayer. "what is that on thy hand?" asked juan, with a sudden change of tone. "blood? the sieur de ramenais' diamond ring has hurt thee." carlos glanced at the little wound, and smiled. "i never felt it," he said, "so glad was my heart, ruy, for that brave grasp of faithful brotherhood." and there was a strange light in his eye as he added, "perchance it may be thus with me, if christ indeed should call me to suffer. weak as i am, he can give, even to me, such blessed assurance of his love, that in the joy of it pain and fear shall be unfelt, or vanish." juan could not understand him, but he was awed and impressed. he had no heart for many words. he rose and walked towards the gate of the monastery grounds, slowly and in silence, carlos accompanying him. when they had nearly reached the spot where they were to part, carlos said, "you have heard fray constantino, as i asked you?" "yes, and i greatly admire him." "he teaches god's truth." "why can you not rest content with his teaching, then, instead of going to look for better bread than wheaten, heaven knows where?" "when i return to the city next week i will explain all to thee." "i hope so. in the meantime, adios." he strode on a pace or two, then turned back to say, "thou and i, carlos; we will stand together against the world." xviii. the aged monk. "i will not boast a martyr's might to leave my home without a sigh-- the dwelling of my past delight, the shelter where i hoped to die." anon. much was carlos strengthened by the result of his interview with don juan. the thing that he greatly feared, his beloved brother's wrath and scorn, had not come upon him. juan had shown, instead, a moderation, a candour, and a willingness to listen, which, while it really amazed him, inspired him with the happiest hopes. with a glad heart he repeated the psalmist's exulting words: "the lord is my strength and my shield; my heart hath trusted in him and i am helped; therefore my heart danceth for joy, and in my song will i praise him." he soon perceived that the chapter was over; for figures, robed in white and brown, were moving here and there amongst the trees. he entered the house, and without happening to meet any one, made his way to the deserted chapter-room. its sole remaining occupant was a very aged monk, the oldest member of the community. he was seated at the table, his face buried in his hands, and his frail, worn frame quivering as if with sobs. carlos went up to him and asked gently, "father, what ails you?" the old man slowly raised his head, and gazed at him with sad, tired eyes, which had watched the course of more than eighty years. "my son," he said, "if i weep, it is for joy." carlos wondered; for he saw no joy on the wrinkled brow or in the tearful face. but he merely asked, "what have the brethren resolved?" "to await god's providence here. praised be his holy name for that." and the old man bowed his silver head, and wept once more. to carlos also the determination was a cause for deep gratitude. he had all along regarded the proposed flight of the brethren with extreme dread, as an almost certain means of awakening the suspicions of the holy office, and thus exposing all who shared their faith to destruction. it was no light matter that the danger was now at least postponed, always provided that the respite was purchased by no sacrifice of principle. "thank god!" reiterated the old monk. "for here i have lived; and here i will die and be buried, beside the holy brethren of other days, in the chapel of don alonzo the good. my son, i came hither a stripling as thou art--no, younger, younger--i know not how many years ago; one year is so like another, there is no telling. i could tell by looking at the great book, only my eyes are too dim to read it. they have grown dim very fast of late; when doctor egidius used to visit us, i could read my breviary with the youngest of them all. but no matter how many years. they were many enough to change a blooming, black-haired boy into an old man tottering on the grave's brink. and i to go forth now into that great, wicked world beyond the gate! i to look upon strange faces, and to live amongst strange men! or to die amongst them, for to that it would come full soon! no, no, señor don carlos. here i took the cowl; here i lived; and here i will die and lie buried, god and the saints helping me!" "yet for the truth's sake, my father, would you not be willing to make even this sacrifice, and to go forth in your old age into exile?" "if the brethren must needs go, so, i suppose, must i. but they are _not_ going, st. jerome be praised," the old man repeated. "going or staying, the presence of him whom they serve and for whom they witness will be with them." "it may be, it may be, for aught i know. but in my young days so many fine words were not in use. we sang our matins, our complines, our vespers; we said the holy mass and all our offices, and god and st. jerome took care of the rest." "but you would not have those days back again, would you, my father? you did not then know the glorious gospel of the grace of god." "gospel, gospel? we always read the gospel for the day. i know my breviary, young sir, just as well as another. and on festival days, some one always preached from the gospel. when fray domingo preached, plenty of great folks used to come out from the city to hear him. for he was very eloquent, and as much thought of, in his time, as fray cristobal is now. but they are forgotten in a little while, all of them. so will we, in a few years to come." carlos reproached himself for having named the gospel, instead of him whose words and works are the burden of the gospel story. for even to that dull ear, heavy with age, the name of jesus was sweet. and that dull mind, drowsy with the slumber of a long lifetime, had half awaked at least to the consciousness of his love. "dear father," he said gently, "i know you are well acquainted with the gospels. you remember what our blessed lord saith of those who confess him before men, how he will not be ashamed to confess them before his father in heaven? and, moreover, is it not a joy for us to show, in any way he points out to us, our love to him who loved us and gave himself for us?" "yes, yes, we love him. and he knows i only wish to do what is right, and what is pleasing in his sight." afterwards, carlos talked over the events of the day with the younger and more intelligent brethren; especially with his teacher, fray cristobal, and his particular friend, fray fernando. he could but admire the spirit that had guided their deliberations, and feel increased thankfulness for the decision at which they had arrived. the peace which the whole community of spanish protestants then enjoyed, perilous and unstable as it was, stood at the mercy of every individual belonging to that community. the unexplained flight of any obscure member of losada's congregation would have been sufficient to give the alarm, and let loose the bloodhounds of persecution upon the church; how much more the abandonment of a wealthy and honourable religious house by the greater part of its inmates? the sword hung over their heads, suspended by a single hair, which a hasty or incautious movement, a word, a breath even, might suffice to break. xix. truth and freedom. "man is greater than you thought him; the bondage of long slumber he will break, his just and ancient rights he will reclaim, with nero and busiris he will rank the name of philip." schiller. never before had it fallen to the lot of don juan alvarez to experience such bewilderment as that which his brother's disclosure occasioned him. that brother, whom he had always regarded as the embodiment of goodness and piety, who was rendered illustrious in his eyes by all sorts of academic honours, and sanctified by the shadow of the coming priesthood, had actually confessed himself to be--what he had been taught to hold in deepest, deadliest abomination--a lutheran heretic. but, on the other hand, from the wise, pious, and in every way unexceptionable manner in which carlos had spoken, juan could not help hoping that what, probably through some unaccountable aberration of mind, he himself persisted in styling lutheranism, might prove in the end some very harmless and orthodox kind of devotion. perhaps, eventually, his brother might found some new and holy order of monks and friars. or even (he was so clever) he might take the lead in a reformation of the church, which, there was no use in an honest man's denying, was sorely needed. still, he could not help admitting that the sieur de ramenais had sometimes expressed himself with nearly as much apparent orthodoxy; and he was undoubtedly a confirmed heretic--a huguenot. but if the recollection of this man, who for months had been his guest rather than his prisoner, served, from one point of view, to increase his difficulties, from another, it helped to clear away the most formidable of them. don juan had never been religious; but he had always been hotly orthodox, as became a castilian gentleman of purest blood, and heir to all the traditions of an ancient house, foremost for generations in the great conflict with the infidel. he had been wont to look upon the catholic faith as a thing bound up irrevocably with the knightly honour, the stainless fame, the noble pride of his race, and, consequently, with all that was dearest to his heart. heresy he regarded as something unspeakably mean and degrading. it was associated in his mind with jews and moors, "caitiffs," "beggarly fellows;" all of them vulgar and unclean, some of them the hereditary enemies of his race. heretics were moslems, infidels, such as "my cid" delighted in hewing down with his good sword tizona, "for god and our lady's honour." heretics kept the passover with mysterious, unhallowed rites, into which it would be best not to inquire; heretics killed (and perhaps ate) christian children; they spat upon the cross; they had to wear ugly yellow sanbenitos at _autos-da-fé_; and, to sum up all in one word, they "smelled of the fire." to give full weight to the last allusion, it must be remembered that in the eyes of don juan and his cotemporaries, death by fire had no hallowed or ennobling associations to veil its horrors. the burning pile was to him what the cross was to our fore-fathers, and what the gibbet is to us, only far more disgraceful. thus it was not so much his conscience as his honour and his pride that were arrayed against the new faith. but, unconsciously to himself, opposition had been silently undermined by his intercourse with the sieur de ramenais. it would probably have been fatal to protestantism with don juan, had his first specimen of a protestant been an humble muleteer. fortunately, the new opinions had come to him represented by a noble and gallant knight, who "in open battle or in tilting field forbore his own advantage;" who was as careful of his "pundonor"[ ] as any castilian gentleman, and scarcely yielded even to himself in all those marks of good breeding, which, to say the truth, don juan alvarez de santillanos y meñaya valued far more than any abstract dogmas of faith. [ ] point of honour. this circumstance produced a willingness on his part to give fair play to his brother's convictions. when carlos returned to seville, which he did about a week after the meeting of the chapter, he was overjoyed to find juan ready to hear all he had to say with patience and candour. moreover, the young soldier was greatly attracted by the preaching of fray constantino, whom he pronounced, in language borrowed from the camp, "a right good camerado." using these favourable dispositions to the best advantage, carlos repeated to him passages from the new testament; and with deep and prayerful earnestness explained and enforced the truths they taught, taking care, of course, not unnecessarily to shock his prejudices. and, as time passed on, it became every day more and more apparent that don juan was receiving "the new ideas;" and that with far less difficulty and conflict than carlos himself had done. for with him the reformed faith had only prejudices, not convictions, to contend against. these once broken down, the rest was easy. and then it came to him so naturally to follow the guidance of carlos in all that pertained to _thinking_. unmeasured was the joy of the affectionate brother when at last he found that he might safely venture to introduce him privately to losada as a promising inquirer. in the meantime their outward life passed on smoothly and happily. with much feasting and rejoicing, juan was betrothed to doña beatriz. he had loved her devotedly since boyhood; he loved her now more than ever. but his love was a deep, life-long passion--no sudden delirium of the fancy--so that it did not render him oblivious of every other tie, and callous to every other impression; it rather stimulated, and at the same time softened his whole nature. it made him not less, but more, sensitive to all the exciting and ennobling influences which were being brought to bear upon him. in doña beatriz carlos perceived a change that surprised him, while, at the same time, it made more evident than ever how great would have been his own mistake, had he accepted the passive gratitude of a child towards one who noticed and flattered her for the true deep love of a woman's heart. doña beatriz was a passive child no longer now. on the betrothal day, a proud and beautiful woman leaned on the arm of his handsome brother, and looked around her upon the assembled family, queen-like in air and mien, her cheek rivalling the crimson of the damask rose, her large dark eye beaming with passionate, exulting joy. carlos compared her in thought to the fair, carved alabaster lamp that stood on the inlaid centre table of his aunt's state receiving-room. love had wrought in her the change which light within always did in that, revealing its hidden transparency, and glorifying its pale, cold whiteness with tints so warmly beautiful, that the clouds of evening might have envied them. the betrothal of doña sancha to don beltran vivarez quickly followed. don balthazar also succeeded in obtaining the desired government appointment, and henceforth enjoyed, much to his satisfaction, the honours and emoluments of an "_empleado_." to crown the family good fortune, doña inez rejoiced in the birth of a son and heir; while even don gonsalvo, not to be left out, acknowledged some improvement in his health, which he attributed to the judicious treatment of losada. the mind of an intelligent man can scarcely be deeply exercised upon one great subject, without the result making itself felt throughout the whole range of his occupations. losada's patients could not fail to benefit by his habits of independent thought and searching investigation, and his freedom from vulgar prejudices. this freedom, so rare in his nation, led him occasionally, though very cautiously, even to hazard the adoption of a few remedies which were not altogether "_cosas de espana_."[ ] [ ] things of spain. the physician deserved less credit for his treatment of juan's wounded arm, which nature healed, almost as soon as her beneficent operations ceased to be retarded by ignorant and blundering leech-craft. don juan was occasionally heard to utter aspirations for the full restoration of his cousin gonsalvo's health, more hearty in their expression than charitable in their motive. "i would give one of my fingers he could ride a horse and handle a sword, or at least a good foil with the button off, and i would soon make him repent his bearing and language to thee, carlos. but what can a man do with a _thing_ like that, save let him alone for very shame? yet he is dastard enough to presume on such toleration, and to strike those whom his own infirmities hinder from returning the blow." "if he could ride a horse or handle a sword, brother, i think you would find a marvellous change for the better in his bearing and language. that bitterness, what is it, after all, but the fruit of pain? or of what is even worse than pain, repressed force and energy. he would be in the great world doing and daring; and behold, he is chained to a narrow room, or at best toils with difficulty a few hundred paces. no wonder that the strong winds, bound in their caverns, moan and shriek piteously at times. when i hear them i feel far too much compassion to think of anger. and i would give one of my fingers--nay, i would give my right hand," he added with a smile, "that he shared our blessed hope, juan, my brother." "the most unlikely person of all our acquaintance to become a convert." "so say not i. do you know that he has given money--he that has so little--more than once to señor cristobal for the poor?" "that is nothing," said juan. "he was ever free-handed. do you not remember, in our childhood, how he would strike us upon the least provocation, yet insist on our sharing his sweetmeats and his toys, and even sometimes fight us for refusing them? while the others knew the value of a ducat before they knew their angelus, and would sell and barter their small possessions like dutch merchants." "which you spared not to call them, bearing yourself in the quarrels that naturally ensued with undaunted prowess; while i too often disgraced you by tearful entreaties for peace at all costs," returned carlos, laughing. "but, my brother," he resumed more gravely, "i often ask myself, are we doing all that is possible in our present circumstances to share with others the treasure we have found?" "i trust it will soon be open to them all," said juan, who had now come just far enough to grasp strongly his right to think and judge for himself, and with it the idea of emancipation from the control of a proud and domineering priesthood. "great is truth, and shall prevail." "certainly, in the end. but much that to mortal eyes looks like defeat may come first." "i think my learned brother, so much wiser than i upon many subjects, fails to read well the signs of the times. whose word saith, 'when ye see the fig-tree put forth her buds, know ye that summer is nigh, even at the door'? everywhere the fig-trees are budding now." "still the frosts may return." "hold thy peace, too desponding brother. thou shouldst have learned another lesson yesterday, when thou and i watched the eager thousands as they hung breathless on the lips of our fray constantino. are not those thousands really for _us_, and for truth and freedom?" "no doubt christ has his own amongst them." "you always think of individuals, carlos, rather than of our country. you forget we are sons of spain, castilian nobles. of course we rejoice when even one man here and there is won for the truth. but our spain! our glorious land, first and fairest of all the earth! our land of conquerors, whose arms reach to the ends of the world--one hand taming the infidel in his african stronghold, while the other crowns her with the gold and jewels of the far west! she who has led the nations in the path of discovery--whose fleets gem the ocean--whose armies rule the land,--shall she not also lead the way to the great city of god, and bring in the good coming time when all shall know him from the least to the greatest--when they shall know the truth, and the truth shall make them free? carlos, my brother, i do not dare to doubt it." it was not often that don juan expressed himself in such a lengthened and energetic, not to say grandiloquent manner. but his love for spain was a passion, and to extol her or to plead her cause words were never lacking with him. in reply to this outburst of enthusiasm, carlos only said gently, "amen, and the lord establish it in his time." don juan looked keenly at him. "i thought you had faith, carlos?" he said. "faith?" carlos repeated inquiringly. "such faith," said juan, "as i have. faith in truth and freedom!" and he rang out the sonorous words, "_verdad y_ _libertad_," as if he thought, as indeed he did, that they had but to go forth through a submissive, rejoicing world, "conquering and to conquer." "i have faith _in christ_," carlos answered quietly. and in those two brief phrases each unconsciously revealed to the other the very depths of his soul, and told the secret of his history. xx. the first drop of a thunder shower. "closed doorways that are folded and prayed against in vain." e.b. browning. meanwhile the happy weeks glided on noiselessly and rapidly. they brought full occupation for head and heart, as well as varied and intense enjoyment. don juan's constant intercourse with doña beatriz was not the less delightful because already he sought to imbue her mind with the truths which he himself was learning every day to love better. he thought her an apt and hopeful pupil, but, under the circumstances, he was scarcely the best possible judge. carlos was not so well satisfied with her attainments; he advised reserve and caution in imparting their secrets to her, lest through inadvertence she might betray them to her aunt and cousins. juan considered this a mark of his constitutional timidity; yet he so far attended to his warnings, that doña beatriz was strongly impressed with the necessity of keeping their religious conversations a profound secret, whilst her sensibilities were not shocked by any mention of words so odious as heresy or lutheranism. but there could be no doubt as to juan's own progress under the instructions of his brother, and of losada and fray cassiodoro. he began, ere long, to accompany carlos to the meetings of the protestants, who welcomed the new acquisition to their ranks with affectionate enthusiasm. all were attracted by don juan's warmth and candour of disposition, and by his free, joyous, hopeful temperament; though he was not beloved by any as intensely as carlos was by the few who really knew him, such as losada, don juan ponce de leon, and the young monk, fray fernando. partly through the influence of his religious friends, and partly through the brilliant reputation he had brought from alcala, carlos now obtained a lectureship at the college of doctrine, of which the provost, fernando de san juan, was a decided and zealous lutheran. this appointment was an honourable one, considered in no way derogatory to his social position, and useful as tending to convince his uncle that he was "doing something," not idly dreaming his time away. occupations of another kind opened out before him also. amongst the many sincere and anxious inquirers who were troubled with perplexities concerning the relations of the old faith and the new, were some who turned to him, with an instinctive feeling that he could help them. this was just the work that best suited his abilities and his temperament. to sympathize, to counsel, to aid in conflict as only that man can do who has known conflict himself, was god's special gift to him. and he who goes through the world speaking, whenever he can, a word in season to the weary, will seldom be without some weary one ready to listen to him. upon one subject, and only one, the brothers still differed. juan saw the future robed in the glowing hues borrowed from his own ardent, hopeful spirit. in his eyes the spains were already won "for truth and freedom," as he loved to say. he anticipated nothing less than a glorious regeneration of christendom, in which his beloved country would lead the van. and there were many amongst losada's congregation who shared these bright and beautiful, if delusive dreams, and the enthusiasm which had given them birth, and in its turn was nourished by them. again, there were others who rejoiced with much trembling over the good tidings that often reached them of the spread of the faith in distant parts of the country, and who welcomed each neophyte to their ranks as if they were adorning a victim for the sacrifice. they could not forget that name of terror, the holy inquisition. and from certain ominous indications they thought the sleeping monster was beginning to stir in his den. else why had new and severe decrees against heresy been recently obtained from rome? and above all, why had the bishop of terragona, gonzales de munebrãga, already known as a relentless persecutor of jews and moors, been appointed vice-inquisitor general at seville? still, on the whole, hope and confidence predominated; and strange, nay, incredible as it may appear to us, beneath the very shadow of the triana the lutherans continued to hold their meetings "almost with open doors." one evening don juan escorted doña beatriz to some festivity from which he could not very well excuse himself, whilst carlos attended a reunion for prayer and mutual edification at the usual place--the house of doña isabella de baena. don juan returned at a late hour, but in high spirits. going at once to the room where his brother sat awaiting him, he threw off his cloak, and stood before him, a gay, handsome figure, in his doublet of crimson satin, his gold chain, and well-used sword, now worn for ornament, with its embossed scabbard and embroidered belt. "i never saw doña beatriz look so charming," he began eagerly. "don miguel de santa cruz was there, but he could not get so much as a single dance with her, and looked ready to die for envy. but save me from the impertinence of luis rotelo! i shall have to cane him one of these days, if no milder measures will teach him his place and station. _he_, the son of a simple hidalgo, to dare lift his eyes to doña beatriz de lavella? the caitiff's presumption!--but thou art not listening, brother. what is wrong with thee?" no wonder he asked. the face of carlos was pale; and the deep mournful eyes looked as if tears had been lately there. "a great sorrow, brother mine," he answered in a low voice. "_my_ sorrow too, then. tell me, what is it?" asked juan, his tone and manner changed in a moment. "juliano is taken." "juliano! the muleteer who brought the books, and gave you that testament?" "the man who put into my hands this precious book, to which i owe my joy now and my hope for eternity," said carlos, his lip trembling. "ay de mi!--but perhaps it is not true." "too true. a smith, to whom he showed a copy of the book, betrayed him. god forgive him--if there be forgiveness for such. it may have been a month ago, but we only heard it now. and he lies there--_there_." "who told you?" "all were talking of it at the meeting when i entered. it is the sorrow of all; but i doubt if any have such cause to sorrow as i. for he is my father in the faith, juan. and now," he added, after a long, sad pause, "i shall _never_ tell him what he has done for me--at least on this side of the grave." "there is no hope for him," said juan mournfully, as one that mused. "_hope!_ only in the great mercy of god. even those dreadful dungeon walls cannot shut him out." "no; thank god." "but the prolonged, the bitter, the horrible suffering! i have been trying to contemplate, to picture it--but i cannot, i dare not. and what i dare not think of, he must endure." "he is a peasant, you are a noble--that makes some difference," said don juan, with whom the tie of brotherhood in christ had not yet effaced all earthly distinctions. "but carlos," he questioned suddenly, and with a look of alarm, "does not he know everything?" "_everything_," carlos answered quietly. "one word from his lips, and the pile is kindled for us all. but that word will never be spoken. to-night not one heart amongst us trembled for ourselves, we only wept for him." "you trust him, then, so completely? it is much to say. they in whose hands he is are cruel as fiends. no doubt they will--" "hush!" interrupted carlos, with a look of such exceeding pain, that juan was effectually silenced. "there are things we cannot speak of, save to god in prayer. oh, my brother, pray for him, that he for whom he has risked so much may sustain him, and, if it may be, shorten his agony." "surely more than two or three will join in that prayer. but, my brother," he added, after a pause, "be not so downcast. do you not know that every great cause must have its martyr? when was a victory won, and no brave man left dead on the field; a city stormed, and none fallen in the breach? perhaps to that poor peasant may be given the glory--the great glory--of being honoured throughout all time as the sainted martyr whose death has consecrated our holy cause to victory. a grand lot truly! worth suffering for!" and juan's dark eye kindled, and his cheek glowed with enthusiasm. carlos was silent. "dost thou not think so, my brother?" "i think that christ is worth suffering for," said carlos at last. "and that nothing short of his personal presence, realized by faith, can avail to bring any man victorious through such fearful trials. may that--may he be with his faithful servant now, when all human help and comfort are far away." xxi. by the guadalquivir. "there dwells my father, sinless and at rest, where the fierce murderer can no more pursue." schiller. next sunday evening the brothers attended the quiet service in doña isabella's upper room. it was more solemn than usual, because of the deep shadow that rested on the hearts of all the band assembled there. but losada's calm voice spoke wise and loving words about life and death, and about him who, being the lord of life, has conquered death for all who trust him. then came prayer--true incense offered on the golden altar standing "before the mercy-seat," which only "the veil," still dropped between, hides from the eyes of the worshippers.[ ] but in such hours many a ray from the glory within shines through that veil. [ ] see exodus xxx. . "do not let us return home yet, brother," said carlos, when they had parted with their friends. "the night is fine." "whither shall we bend our steps?" carlos named a favourite walk through some olive-yards on the banks of the river, and juan set his face towards one of the city gates. "why take such a circuit?" said carlos, showing a disposition to turn in an opposite direction. "this is far the shorter way." "true; but it is less pleasant." carlos looked at him gratefully. "my brother would spare my weakness," he said. "but it needs not. twice of late, when you were engaged with doña beatriz, i went alone thither, and--to the prado san sebastian." so they passed through the puerta de triana, and having crossed the bridge of boats, leisurely took their way beneath the walls of the grim old castle. as they did so, both prayed in silence for one who was pining in its dungeons. don juan, whose interest in the fate of juliano was naturally far less intense than his brother's, was the first to break that silence. he remarked that the dominican convent adjoining the triana looked nearly as gloomy as the inquisitorial prison itself. "i think it looks like all other convents," returned carlos, with indifference. they were soon in the shadow of the dark, ghostlike olive trees. the moon was young, and gave but little light; but the large clear stars looked down through the southern air like lamps of fire, hanging not so much in the sky as from it. were those bright watchers charged with a message from the land very far off, which seemed so near to _them_ in the high places whence they ruled the night? carlos drank in the spirit of the scene in silence. but this did not please his less meditative brother. "what art thou pondering?" he asked. "'they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.'" "art thinking still of the prisoner in the triana?" "of him, and also of another very dear to both of us, of whom i have for some time been purposing to speak to thee. what if thou and i have been, like children, seeking for a star on earth while all the time it was shining above us in god's glorious heaven?" "knowest thou not of old, little brother, that when thy parables begin i am left behind at once? i pray thee, let the stars alone, and speak the language of earth." "what was the task to which thou and i vowed ourselves in childhood, brother?" juan looked at him keenly through the dim light. "i sometimes feared thou hadst forgotten," he said. "no danger of that. but i had a reason--i think a good and sufficient one--for not speaking to thee until well and fully assured of thy sympathy." "my sympathy? in aught that concerned the dream, the passion of my life!--of both our young lives! carlos, how couldst thou even doubt of this?" "i had reason to doubt at first whether a gleam of light which has been shed upon our father's fate would be regarded by his son as a blessing or a curse." "do not keep a man in suspense, brother. speak at once, in heaven's name." "i doubt no longer _now_. it will be to thee, juan, as to me, a joy exceeding great to think that our venerated father read god's word for himself, and knew his truth and honoured it, as we have learned to do." "now, god be thanked!" cried juan, pausing in his walk and clasping his hands together. "this indeed is joyful news. but speak, brother; how do you know it? are you certain, or is it only dream, hope, conjecture?" carlos told him in detail, first the hint dropped by losada to de seso; then the story of dolores; lastly, what he had heard at san isodro about don rodrigo de valer. and as he proceeded with his narrative, he welded the scattered links into a connected chain of evidence. juan, all eagerness, could hardly wait till he came to the end. "why did you not speak to losada?" he interrupted at last. "stay, brother, and hear me out; the best is to come. i have done so lately. but until assured how thou wouldst regard the matter, i cared not to ask questions, the answers to which might wound thy heart." "you are in no doubt now. what heard you from señor cristobal?" "i heard that dr. egidius named the conde de nuera as one of those who befriended don rodrigo. and that he had been present when that brave and faithful teacher privately expounded the epistle to the romans." "there!" juan exclaimed with a start. "there is the origin of my second and favourite name, rodrigo. brother, brother, these are the best tidings i have heard for years." and uncovering his head, he uttered fervent and solemn words of thanksgiving. to which carlos added a heartfelt "amen," and resumed,-- "then, brother, you think we are justified in taking this joy to our hearts?" "without doubt," cried the sanguine don juan. "and it follows that his crime--" "was what in our eyes constitutes the truest glory, the profession of a pure faith," said juan with decision, leaping at once to the conclusion carlos had reached by a far slower path. "and those mystic words inscribed upon the window, the delight and wonder of our childhood--" "ah!" repeated juan-- "'el dorado yo hé trovado.' but what they have to do with the matter i see not yet." "you see not? surely the knowledge of god in christ, the kingdom of heaven opened up to us, is the true el dorado, the golden country, which enriches those who find it for evermore." "that is all very good," said juan, with the air of a man not quite satisfied. "i doubt not that was our father's meaning," carlos continued. "i doubt it, though. up to that point i follow you, carlos; but there we part. _something_ in the new world, i think, my father must have found." a lengthened debate followed, in which carlos discovered, rather to his surprise, that juan still clung to his early faith in a literal land of gold. the more thoughtful and speculative brother sought in vain to reason him out of that belief. nor was he much more successful when he came to state his own settled conviction that they should never see their father's face on earth. not the slightest doubt remained on his own mind that, on account of his attachment to the reformed faith, the conde de nuera had been, in the phraseology of the time, quietly "put out of the way." but whether this had been done during the voyage, or on the wild unknown shores of the new world, he believed his children would never know. on this point, however, no argument availed with juan. he seemed determined _not_ to believe in his father's death. he confessed, indeed, that his heart bounded at the thought that he had been a sufferer "in the cause of truth and freedom." "he has suffered exile," he said, "and the loss of all things. but i see not wherefore he may not after all be living still, somewhere in that vast wonderful new world." "i am content to think," carlos replied, "that all these years he has been at rest with the dead in christ. and that we shall see his face first with christ when he appears in glory." "but i am not content. we must learn something more." "we shall never learn more. how can we?" asked carlos. "that is so like thee, little brother. ever desponding, ever turned easily from thy purpose." "well; be it so," said carlos meekly. "but what _i_ determine, that i do," said juan. "at least i will make my uncle speak out," he continued. "i have ever suspected that he knows something." "but how is that to be done?" asked carlos. "nevertheless, do all thou canst, and god prosper thee. only," he added with great earnestness, "remember the necessities of our present position; and for the sake of our friends, as well as of our own lives, use due prudence and caution." "fear not, my too prudent brother.--the best and dearest brother in the world," he added kindly, "if he had but a little more courage." thus conversing they hastily retraced their steps to the city, the hour being already late. * * * * * quiet weeks passed on after this unmarked by any event of importance. winter had now given place to spring; the time of the singing of birds was come. in spite of numerous and heavy anxieties, and of _one_ sorrow that pressed more or less upon all, it was still spring-time in many a brave and hopeful heart amongst the adherents of the new faith in seville. certainly it was spring-time with don juan alvarez. one sunday a letter arrived by special messenger from nuera, containing the unwelcome tidings that the old and faithful servant of the house, diego montes, was dying. it was his last wish to resign his stewardship into the hands of his young master, señor don juan. juan could not hesitate. "i will go to-morrow morning," he said to carlos; "but rest assured i will return hither as soon as possible; the days are too precious to be lost." together they repaired once more to doña isabella's house. don juan told the friends they met there of his intended departure, and ere they separated many a hand warmly grasped his, and many a voice spoke kindly the "vaya con dios" for his journey. "it needs not formal leave-takings, señores and my brethren," said juan; "my absence will be very short; not next sunday indeed, but possibly in a fortnight, and certainly this day month i shall meet you all here again." "_god willing_," said losada gravely. and so they parted. xxii. the flood-gates opened. "and they feared as they entered into the cloud." for the first stage of don juan's journey carlos accompanied him. they spent the time in animated talk, chiefly about nuera, carlos sending kind messages to the dying man, to dolores, and indeed to all the household. "remember, brother," he said, "to give dolores the little books i put into the alforjas, specially the 'confession of a sinner.'" "i shall remember everything, even to bringing thee back tidings of all the sick folk in the village. now, carlos, here we agreed to part;--no, not one step further." they clasped each other's hands. "it is not like a long parting," said juan. "no. vaya con dios, my ruy." "quede con dios,[ ] brother;" and he rode off, followed by his servant. [ ] remain with god. carlos watched him wistfully; would he turn for a last look? he _did_ turn. taking off his velvet montero, he gaily bowed farewell; thus allowing carlos to gaze once more upon his dark, handsome, resolute features, keen, sparkling eyes and curling black hair. whilst juan saw a scholar's face, thoughtful, refined, sensitive; a broad pale forehead, from which the breeze had blown the waving fair hair (fair to a southern eye, though really a bright soft brown), and lips that kept the old sweetness of expression, though, whether from the manly fringe that graced them or from some actual change, the weakness which marred them once had ceased to be apparent now. another moment, and both had turned their horses' heads. carlos, when he reached the city, made a circuit to avoid one of the very frequent processions of the host; since, as time passed on, he felt ever more and more disinclined to the absolutely necessary prostration. afterwards he called upon losada, to inquire the exact address of a person whom he had asked him to visit. he found him engaged in his character of physician, and sat down in the patio to await his leisure. ere long dr. cristobal passed through, politely accompanying to the gate a canon of the cathedral, for whose ailments he had just been prescribing. the churchman, who was evidently on the best terms with his physician, was showing his good-nature and affability by giving him the current news of the city; to which losada listened courteously, with a grave, quiet smile, and, when necessary, an appropriate question or comment. only one item made any impression upon carlos: it related to a pleasant estate by the sea-side which munebrãga had just purchased, disappointing thereby a relative of the canon's who desired to possess it, but could not command the very large price readily offered by the inquisitor. at last the visitor was gone. in a moment the smile had faded from the physician's care-worn face. turning to carlos with a strangely altered look, he said, "the monks of san isodro have fled." "fled!" carlos repeated, in blank dismay. "yes; no fewer than twelve of them have abandoned the monastery." "how did you hear it?" "one of the lay brethren came in this morning to inform me. they held another solemn chapter, in which it was determined that each one should follow the guidance of his own conscience, those, therefore, to whom it seemed best to go have gone, the rest remain." for some moments they looked at each other in silence. so fearful was the peril in which this rash act involved them all, that it almost seemed as if they had heard a sentence of death. the voice of carlos faltered as he asked at last,--"have fray cristobal or fray fernando gone?" "no; they are both amongst those, more generous if not more wise, who have chosen to remain and take what god will send them here. stay, here is a letter from fray cristobal which the lay brother brought me; it will tell you as much as i know myself." carlos read it carefully. "it seems," he said, when he had finished, "that the consciences of those who fled would not allow them any longer to conform, even outwardly, to the rules of their order. moreover, from the signs of the times, they believe that a storm is about to burst upon the company of the faithful." "god grant it may prove that they have saved _themselves_ from its violence," losada answered, with a slight emphasis on "themselves." "and for us?--god help us!" carlos almost moaned, the paper falling from his trembling hand. "what shall we do?" "be strong in the lord, and in the power of his might," returned losada bravely. "no other strength remains for us. but god grant none of us in the city may be so unadvised as to follow the example of the brethren. the flight of one might be the ruin of all." "and those noble, devoted men who remain at san isodro?" "are in god's hands, as we are." "i will ride out and visit them, especially fray fernando." "excuse me, señor don carlos, but you will do nothing of the kind; that were to court suspicion. i will bear any message you choose to send." "and you?" losada smiled, though sadly. "the physician has occasion to go," he said; "he is a very useful personage, who often covers with his ample cloak the _dogmatizing heretic_." carlos recognized the official phraseology of the holy office. he repressed a shudder, but could not hide the look of terror that dilated his large blue eyes. the older man, the more experienced christian, could compassionate the youth. losada, himself standing "face to face with death," spoke kind words of counsel and comfort to carlos. he cautioned him strongly against losing his self-possession, and thereby running needlessly into danger. "especially would i urge upon you, señor don carlos," he said, "the duty of avoiding unnecessary risk, for already you are useful to us; and should god spare your life, you will be still more so. if i fall--" "do not speak of it, my beloved friend." "it will be as god pleases," said the pastor calmly. "but i need not remind you, others stand in like peril with me. especially fray cassiodoro, and don juan ponce de leon." "the noblest heads, the likeliest to fall," carlos murmured. "then must younger soldiers step forth from the ranks, and take up the standards dropped from their hands. don carlos alvarez, we have high hopes of you. your quiet words reach the heart; for you speak that which you know, and testify that which you have seen. and the good gifts of mind that god has given you enable you to speak with the greater acceptance. he may have much work for you in his harvest-field. but whether he should call you to work or to suffer, shrink not, but 'be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for the lord thy god is with thee whithersoever thou goest.'" "i will try to trust him; and may he make his strength perfect in my weakness," said carlos. "but for the present," he added, "give me any lowly work to do, whereby i may aid you or lighten your cares, my loved friend and teacher." losada gladly gave him, as indeed he had done several times before, instructions to visit certain secret inquirers, and persons in distress and perplexity of mind. he passed the next two or three days in these ministrations, and in constant prayer, especially for the remaining monks of san isodro, whose sore peril pressed heavily on his heart. he sought, as much as possible, to shut out other thoughts; or, when they would force an entrance, to cast their burden, which otherwise would have been intolerable, upon him who would surely care for his own church, his few sheep in the wilderness. one morning he remained late in his chamber, writing a letter to his brother; and then went forth, intending to visit losada. as it was a fast-day, and he kept the church fasts rigorously, it happened that he had not previously met any of his uncle's family. the entrance to the physician's house did not present its usual cheerful appearance. the gate was shut and bolted, and there was no sign of patients passing in or out. carlos became alarmed. it was long before he obtained an answer to his repeated calls. at last, however, some one inside cried, "_quien es_?"[ ] [ ] who is there? carlos gave his name, well known to all the household. then the door was half opened, and a mulatto serving-lad showed a terrified face behind it. "where is señor cristobal?" "gone, señor." "gone!--whither?" the answer was a furtive, frightened whisper. "last night--the alguazils of the holy office." and the door was shut and bolted in his face. he stood rooted to the spot, speechless and motionless, in a trance of horror. at last he was startled by feeling some one grasp his arm without ceremony, indeed rather roughly. "are you moonstruck, cousin don carlos?" asked the voice of gonsalvo. "at least you might have had the courtesy to offer me the aid of your arm, without putting me to the shame of requesting it, miserable cripple that i am!" and he gave vent to a torrent of curses upon his own infirmities, using expressions profane and blasphemous enough to make carlos shiver with pain. yet that very pain did him real service. it roused him from his stupor, as sharp anguish sometimes brings back a patient from a swoon. he said, "pardon me, my cousin, i did not see you; but i hear you now--with sorrow." gonsalvo deigned no answer, except his usual short, bitter laugh. "whither do you wish to go?" "home. i am tired." they walked along in silence; at last gonsalvo asked, abruptly,-- "have you heard the news?" "what news?" "the news that is in every one's mouth to-day. indeed, the city has well nigh run mad with holy horror. and no wonder! their reverences, the lords inquisitors, have just discovered a community of abominable lutherans, a very viper's nest, in our midst. it is said the wretches have actually dared to carry on their worship somewhere in the town. ah, no marvel you look horror-stricken, my pious cousin. _you_ could never have dreamed that such a thing was possible, could you?" after one quick, keen glance, he did not look again in his cousin's face; but he might have felt the beating of his cousin's heart against his arm. "i am told," he continued, "that nearly two hundred persons have been arrested already." "_two hundred!_" gasped carlos. "and the arrests are going on still." "who is taken?" carlos forced his trembling lips to ask. "losada; more's the pity. a good physician, though a bad christian." "a good physician, and a good christian too," said carlos in the voice of one who tries to speak calmly in terrible bodily pain. "an opinion you would do more wisely to keep to yourself, if a reprobate such as i may presume to counsel so learned and pious a personage." "who else?" "one you would never guess. don juan ponce de leon, of all men. think of the count of baylen's son being thus degraded! also the master of the college of doctrine, san juan; and a number of jeromite friars from san isodro. those are all i know worth a gentleman's taking account of. there are some beggarly tradesfolk, such as medel d'espinosa, the embroiderer; and luis d'abrego, from whom your brother bought that beautiful book of the gospels he gave doña beatriz. but if only such cattle were concerned in it, no one would care." "some fools there be," don gonsalvo continued after a pause, "who have run to the triana, and informed against themselves, thinking thereby to get off more easily. _fools_, again i say, for their pains." and he emphasized his words by a pressure of the arm on which he was leaning. at length they reached the door of don manuel's house. "thanks for your aid," said gonsalvo. "now that i remember it, don carlos, i hear also that we are to have a grand procession on tuesday with banners and crosses, in honour of our lady, and of our holy patronesses justina and rufina, to beg pardon for the sin and scandal so long permitted in the midst of our most catholic city. you, my pious cousin, licentiate of theology and all but consecrated priest--you will carry a taper, no doubt?" carlos would fain have left the question unanswered; but gonsalvo meant to have an answer. "you will?" he repeated, laying his hand on his arm, and looking him in the face, though with a smile. "it would be very creditable to the family for one of us to appear. seriously; i advise you to do it." then carlos said quietly, "_no_;" and crossed the patio to the staircase which led to his own apartment. gonsalvo stood watching him, and mentally retracting, at his last word, the verdict formerly pronounced against him as "a coward," "not half a man." xxiii. the reign of terror. "though shining millions around thee stand, for the sake of him at thy right hand think of the souls he died for here, thus wandering in darkness, in doubt and fear. "the powers of darkness are all abroad-- they own no saviour, and they fear no god; and we are trembling in dumb dismay; oh, turn not thou thy face away." hogg. it was late in the evening when carlos emerged from his chamber. how the intervening hours had been passed he never told any one. but this much is certain,--he contended with and overcame a wild, almost uncontrollable impulse to seek refuge in flight. his reason told him that this would be to rush upon certain destruction: so sedulously guarded were all the ways of egress, and so watchful and complete, in every city and village of the land, was the inquisitorial organization; not to speak of the "hermandad," or brotherhood--a kind of civil police, always ready to co-operate with the ecclesiastical authorities. still, if he could not be saved, juan might and should. this thought was growing gradually clearer and stronger in his bewildered brain and aching heart while he knelt in his chamber, finding a relief in the attitude of prayer, though few and broken were the words of prayer that passed his trembling lips. indeed, the burden of his cry was this: "lord, have mercy on us. christ, have mercy on us. thou that carest for us, forsake us not in our bitter need. for thine is the kingdom; even yet thou reignest." this was all he could find to plead, either on his own behalf or on that of his imprisoned brethren; though for them his heart was wrung with unutterable anguish. once and again did he repeat--"_thine_ is the kingdom and the power. thine, o father; thine, o lord and saviour. thou _canst_ deliver us." it was well for him that he had juan to save. he rose at last; and added to the letter previously written to his brother a few lines of most earnest entreaty that he would on no account return to seville. but then, recollecting his own position, he marvelled greatly at his simplicity in purposing to send such a letter by the king's post--an institution which, strange to say, spain possessed at an earlier period than any other country in europe. if he should fall under suspicion, his letter would be liable to detention and examination, and might thus be the means of involving juan in the very peril from which he sought to deliver him. a better plan soon occurred to him. that he might carry it out, he descended late in the evening to the cool, marble-paved court, or _patio_, in the centre of which the fountain ever murmured and glistened, surrounded by tropical plants, some of them in gorgeous bloom. as he had hoped, one solitary lamp burned like a star in a remote corner; and its light illumined the form of a young girl seated on a low chair, before an inlaid ebony table, writing busily. doña beatriz had excused herself from accompanying the family on an evening visit, that she might devote herself in undisturbed solitude to the composition of her first love-letter--indeed, her first letter of any kind: for short as he intended his absence to be, juan had stipulated for this consolation, and induced her to promise it; and she knew that the king's post went northwards the next day, passing by nuera on his way to the towns of la mancha. so engrossing was her occupation that she did not hear the step of carlos. he drew near, and stood behind her. pearls, golden agni, and a scarlet flower or two, were twined with her glossy raven hair; and the lamp shed a subdued radiance over her fine features, which glowed through their delicate olive with the rosy light of joy. an exquisite though not very costly perfume, that carlos in other days always associated with her presence, still continued a favourite with her, and filled the place around with fragrance. it brought back his memory to the past--to that wild, vain, yet enchanting dream; the brief romance of his life. but there was no time now even for "a dream within a dream." there was only time to thank god, from the depths of his soul, that in all the wide world there was no heart that would break for _him_. "doña beatriz," he said gently. she started, and half turned, a bright flush mounting to her cheek. "you are writing to my brother." "and how know you that, señor don carlos?" asked the young lady, with a little innocent affectation. but carlos, standing face to face with terrible realities, pushed aside her pretty arts, as one hastening to succour a dying man might push aside a branch of wild roses that impeded his path. "i most earnestly request of you, señora, to convey to him a message from me." "and wherefore can you not write to him yourself, señor licentiate?" "is it possible, señora, that you know not what has happened?" "vaya, vaya, don carlos! how you startle one.--do you mean these horrible arrests?" carlos found that a few strong, plain words were absolutely necessary in order to make beatriz understand his brother's peril. she had listened hitherto to don juan's extracts from scripture, and the arguments and exhortations founded thereon, conscious, indeed, that these were secrets which should be jealously guarded, yet unconscious that they were what the church and the world branded as heresy. consequently, although she heard of the arrest of losada and his friends with vague regret and apprehension, she was far from distinctly associating the crime for which they suffered with the name dearest to her heart. she was still very young; and she had not thought much--she had only loved. and she blindly followed him she loved, without caring to ask whither he was going himself, or whither he was leading her. when at last carlos made her comprehend that it was for reading the scriptures, and talking of justification by faith alone, that losada was thrown into the dungeons of the triana, a thrilling cry of anguish broke from her lips. "hush, señora!" said carlos; and for once his voice was stern. "if even your little black foot-page heard that cry, it might ruin all." but beatriz was unused to self-control. another cry followed, and there were symptoms of hysterical tears and laughter. carlos tried a more potent spell. "hush, señora" he repeated. "we must be strong and silent, if we are to save don juan." she looked piteously up at him, repeating, "save don juan?" "yes, señora. listen to me. _you_, at least, are a good catholic. you have not compromised yourself in any way: you say your angelus; you make your vows; you bring flowers to our lady's shrine. _you_ are safe." she turned round and faced him--her cheek dyed crimson, and her eyes flashing,-- "i am safe! is that all you have to say? who cares for that? what is _my_ life worth?" "patience, dear señora! your safety aids in securing his. listen.--you are writing to him. tell him of the arrests; for hear of them he must. use the language about heresy which will occur to you, but which--god help me!--i could not use. then pass from the subject. write aught else that comes to your mind; but before closing your letter, say that i am well in mind and body, and would be heartily recommended to him. add that i most earnestly request of him, for our common good and the better arrangement of our affairs, not to return to seville, but to remain at nuera. he will understand that. lay your own commands upon him--your _commands_, remember, señora--to the same effect." "i will do all that.--but here come my aunt and cousins." it was true. already the porter had opened for them the gloomy outer gate; and now the gilt and filagreed inner door was thrown open also, and the returning family party filled the court. they were talking together; not quite so gaily as usual, but still eagerly enough. doña sancha soon drew near to beatriz, and began to rally her upon her occupation, threatening playfully to carry away and read the unfinished letter. no one addressed a word to carlos; but that might have been mere accident. it was, however, scarcely accidental that his aunt, as she passed him on her way to an inner room, drew her mantilla closer round her, lest its deep lace fringe might touch his clothing. shortly afterwards doña sancha dropped her fan. according to custom, carlos stooped for it, and handed it to her with a bow. the young lady took it mechanically, but almost immediately dropped it again with a look of scorn, as if polluted by its touch. its delicate carved ivory, the work of moorish hands, lay in fragments on the marble floor; and from that moment carlos knew that he was under the ban, that he stood alone amidst his uncle's household--a suspected and degraded man. it was not wonderful. his intimacy with the monks of san isodro, his friendship with don juan ponce de leon, and with the physician losada, were all well-known facts. moreover, had he not taught at the college of doctrine, under the direct patronage of fernando de san juan, another of the victims? and there were other indications of his tendencies which could scarcely escape notice, once the suspicions of those who lived under the same roof with him were awakened. for a time he stood silent, watching his uncle's countenance, and marking the frown that contracted his brow whenever his eye turned towards him. but when don manuel passed into a smaller saloon that opened upon the court, carlos followed him boldly. they stood face to face, but could hardly see each other. the room was darkness, save for a few struggling moonbeams. "señor my uncle," said carlos, "i fear my presence here is displeasing to you." don manuel paused before replying. "nephew," he said at length, "you have been lamentably imprudent. the saints grant you have been no worse." a moment of strong emotion will sometimes bring out in a man's face characteristic lineaments of his family, in calmer seasons not traceable there. thus it is with features of the soul. it was not the gentle timid don carlos who spoke now, it was alvarez de santillanos y meñaya. there was both pride and courage in his tone. "if it has been my misfortune to offend my honoured uncle, to whom i owe so many benefits, i am sorry, though i cannot charge myself with any fault. but i should be faulty indeed were i to prolong my stay in a house where i am no longer what, thanks to your kindness, señor my uncle, i have ever been hitherto, a welcome guest." having spoken thus, he turned to go. "stay, young fool!" cried don manuel, who thought the better of him for his proud words. they raised him, in his estimation, from a mark for his scorn to a legitimate object for his indignation. "there spoke your father's voice. but i tell you, for all that, you shall not quit the shelter of my roof." "i thank you." "you may spare the pains. i ask you not, for i prefer to remain in ignorance, to what perilous and fool-hardy lengths your intimacy with heretics may have gone. without being a qualificator of heresy myself, i can tell that you smell of the fire. and indeed, young man, were you anything less than alvarez de meñaya, i would hardly scorch my own fingers to hold you out of it. the devil--to whom, in spite of all your fair appearances, i fear you belong--might take care of his own. but since truth is the daughter of god, you shall have it from my lips. and the plain truth is, that i have no desire to hear every cur dog in seville barking at me and mine; nor to see our ancient and honourable name dragged through the mire and filth of the streets." "i have never disgraced that name." "have i not said that i desire no protestations from you? whatever my private opinion may be, it stands upon our family honour to hold that yours is still unstained. therefore, not from love, as i tell you plainly, but from motives that may perchance prove stronger in the end, i and mine extend to you our protection. i am a good catholic, a faithful son of mother church; but i freely confess i am no hero of the faith, to offer up upon its shrine those that bear my own name. i pretend not to such heights of sanctity, not i." and don manuel shrugged his shoulders. "i entreat of you, señor my uncle, to allow me to explain--" don manuel waved his hand with a forbidding gesture. "none of thy explanations for me," he said. "i am no silly cock, to scratch till i find the knife. dangerous secrets had best be let alone. this i will say, however, that of all the contemptible follies of these evil times, this last one of heresy is the worst. if a man _will_ lose his soul, in the name of common sense let him lose it for fine houses, broad lands, a duke's title, an archbishop's coffers, or something else good at least in this world. but to give all up, and to gain nothing, save fire here and fire again hereafter! it is sheer, blank idiocy." "i _have_ gained something," said carlos firmly. "i have gained a treasure worth more than all i risk, more than life itself." "what! is there really a meaning in this madness? have you and your friends a secret?" don manuel asked in a gentler voice, and not without curiosity. for he was the child of his age; and had carlos told him that the heretics had made the discovery of the philosopher's stone, he would have seen nothing worthy of disbelief in the statement; he would only have asked him for proofs. "the knowledge of god in christ," began carlos eagerly "gives me joy and peace--" "_is that all?_" cried don manuel with an oath. "fool that i was, to imagine, for half an idle minute, that there might be some grain of common sense still left in your crazy brain! but since it is only a question of words and names, and mystical doctrines, i have the honour to wish you good evening, señor don carlos. only i command you, as you value your life, and prefer a residence beneath my roof to a dungeon in the triana, to keep your insanity within bounds, and to conduct yourself so as to avert suspicion. on these conditions we will shelter you. eventually, if it can be done with safety, we may even ship you out of the spains to some foreign country, where heretics, rogues, and thieves are permitted to go at large." so saying, he left the room. carlos was stung to the quick by his contempt; but remembered at last that it was a fragment of the true cross (really the first that had fallen to his lot) given him to wear in honour of his master. sleep would not visit his eyes that night. the next day was the sabbath, a day he had been wont to welcome and enjoy. but never again should the reformed church of seville meet in the upper room which had been the scene of so much happy intercourse. the next reunion was appointed for another place, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. doña isabella de baena and losada were in the dungeons of the triana. fray cassiodoro de reyna, singularly fortunate, had succeeded in making his escape. fray constantino, on the other hand, had been amongst the first arrested; but carlos went as usual to the cathedral, where that eloquent voice would never again be heard. a heavy silent gloom, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, seemed to fill the crowded aisles. yet it was there that the first gleam of comfort reached the breaking heart of carlos. it came to him through the familiar words of the latin service, loved from childhood. he said afterwards to the trembling children of one of the victims, whose desolated home he dared to visit, "for myself, horror took hold of me. i dared not to think. i scarce dared to pray, save in broken words that were only like cries of pain. the first thing that helped me was that grand verse in the te deum, chanted by the sweet childish voices of the cathedral choir--'tu, devicto mortis aculeo, aperuesti credentibus regna coelorum.' think, dear friends, not death alone, but its sting, its sharpness,--for us and our beloved,--he has overcome, and they and we in him. the gates of the kingdom of heaven stand open; opened by his hands, and neither men nor fiends can shut them again." such words as these did carlos find opportunity to speak to many bereaved ones, from whom the desire of their eyes had been taken by a stroke far more bitter than death. this ministry of love did not greatly increase his own peril, since the less he deviated from his ordinary habits of life the less suspicion he was likely to awaken. but had it been otherwise, he was not now in a position to calculate. perhaps he was too near heaven; at all events, he had already ventured too much for christ's sake not to be willing, at his call, to venture a little more. meanwhile, the isolation of his position in his uncle's house grew overpowering. no one reproached him, no one taunted him, not even gonsalvo. he often longed for some bitter word, ay, though it were a curse, to break the oppressive silence. every eye looked upon him with hatred and scorn; every hand shrank from the slightest, most accidental contact with his. almost he came to consider himself what all others considered him,--polluted, degraded--under the ban. once and again would he have sought escape by flight from an atmosphere in which it seemed more and more impossible to breathe. but flight meant arrest; and arrest, besides its overwhelming terrors for himself, meant the danger of betraying juan. his uncle and his uncle's family, though they seemed now to scorn and hate him, had promised to save him if they could, and so far he trusted them. xxiv. a gleam of light. "it is a weary task to school the heart, ere years or griefs have tamed its fiery throbbings, into that still and passive fortitude which is but learned from suffering." hemans shortly afterwards, the son and heir of doña inez was baptized, with the usual amount of ceremony and rejoicing. after the event, the family and friends partook of a merienda of fruit, confectionery, and wine, in the patio of don garçia's house. much against his inclination, carlos was obliged to be present, as his absence would have occasioned remark and inquiry. when the guests were beginning to disperse, the hostess drew near the spot where he stood, near to the fountain, admiring, or seeming to admire, a pure white azalia in glorious bloom. "in good sooth, cousin don carlos," she said, "you forget old friends very easily. but i suppose it is because you are going so soon to take orders. every one knows how learned and pious you are. and no doubt you are right to wean yourself in good time from the concerns and amusements of this unprofitable world." no word of this little speech was lost upon one of the greatest gossips in seville, a lady of rank, who stood near, leaning on the arm of losada's former patient, the wealthy canon. and this was what the speaker, in her good nature, probably intended. carlos raised to her face eyes beaming with gratitude for the friendly notice. "no change of state, señora, can ever make me forget the kindness of my fair cousin," he responded with a bow. "your cousin's little daughter," said the lady, "had once a place in your affections. but with you, as with all the rest, i presume the boy is everything. as for my poor little inez, her small person is of small account in the world now. it is well she has her mother." "nothing would give me greater pleasure than to renew my acquaintance with doña inez, if i maybe permitted so to do." this was evidently what the mother desired. "go to the right then, amigo mio," she said promptly, indicating the place intended by a quick movement of her fan, "and i will send the child to you." carlos obeyed, and for a considerable time paced up and down a cool spacious apartment, only separated from the court by marble pillars, between which costly hangings were suspended. being a spaniard, and dwelling among spaniards, he was neither surprised nor disconcerted by the long delay. at last, however, he began to suspect that his cousin had forgotten him. but this was not the case. first a painted ivory ball rolled in over the smooth floor; then one of the hangings was hastily pushed aside, and the little doña inez bounded gaily into the room in search of her toy. she was a merry, healthy child, about two years old, and really very pretty, though her infantine charms were not set off to advantage by the miniature nun's habit in which she was dressed, on account of a vow made by her mother to "our lady of carmel," during the serious illness for which carlos had summoned losada to her aid. she was followed almost immediately, not by the grave elderly nurse who usually waited on her, but by a girl of about sixteen, rather a beauty, whose quick dark eyes bestowed, from beneath their long lashes, bashful but evidently admiring glances on the handsome young nobleman. carlos, ever fond of children, and enjoying the momentary relief from the painful tension of his daily life, stooped for the ball and held it, just allowing its bright red to appear through his fingers. as the child was not in the least shy, he was soon engaged in a game with her. looking up in the midst of it, he saw that the mother had come in silently, and was watching him with searching anxious eyes that brought back in a moment all his troubles. he allowed the ball to slide to the ground, and then, with a touch of his foot, sent it rolling into one of the farthest corners of the spacious hall. the child ran gleefully after it; while the mother and the attendant exchanged glances. "you may take the noble child away, juanita," said the former. juanita led off her charge without again allowing her to approach carlos, thus rendering unnecessary the ceremony of a farewell. was this the mother's contrivance, lest by spell of word or gesture, or even by a kiss, the heretic might pollute or endanger the innocent babe? when they were alone together, doña inez was the first to speak. "i do not think you can be so wicked after all; since you love children, and play with them still," she said in a low, half-frightened tone. "god bless you for those words, señora," answered carlos with a trembling lip. he was learning to steel himself to scorn; but kindness tested his self-control more severely. "amigo mio," she resumed, drawing nearer and speaking more rapidly, "i cannot quite forget the past. it is very wrong, i know, and i am weak. ay de mi! if it be true you really are that dreadful thing i do not care to name, i ought to have the courage to stand by and see you perish." "but my kinsfolk," said carlos, "do not intend me to perish. and for the protection they afford me i am grateful. more i could not have expected from them; less they might well have done for me. but i would to god i could show them and you that i am not the foul dishonoured thing they deem me." "if it had only been something _respectable_," said doña inez, with a sort of writhe, "such as some youthful irregularity, or stabbing or slaying somebody!--but what use in words? i would say, i counsel you to look to your own safety. do you not know my brothers?" "i think i do, señora. that an alvarez de meñaya should be defamed of heresy would be more than a disgrace--it would be a serious injury to them." "there be more ways than one of avoiding the misfortune." carlos looked inquiringly at her. something in her half-averted face and the quick shrug of her shoulders prompted him to ask, "do you think they mean me mischief?" "daggers are sharp to cut knots," said the lady, playing with her fan and avoiding his eye. with so many ghastlier terrors had the mind of carlos grown familiar, that this one came to him in the guise of a relief. so "the sharpness of death" for him might mean no more than a dagger's thrust, after all! one moment here, the next in his saviour's presence. who that knew aught of the tender mercies of the holy office could do less than thank god on his bended knees for the prospect of such a fate! "it is not _death_ that i fear," he answered, looking at her steadily. "but you may as well live; nay, you had better live. for you may repent, may save your unhappy soul. i shall pray for you." "i thank you, dear and kind señora; but, through the grace of god, my soul is saved already. i believe in jesus christ--" "hush! for heaven's sake!" doña inez interrupted, dropping her fan and putting her fingers in her ears. "hush! or ere i am aware i shall have listened to some dreadful heresy. the saints help me! how should i know just where the good catholic words end, and the wicked ones begin? i might be caught in the web of the evil one; and then neither saint nor angel, no, nor even our lady herself, could deliver me. but listen to me, don carlos, for at all events i would save your life." "i will listen gratefully to aught from your lips." "i know that you dare not attempt flight from the city at present. but if you could lie concealed in some safe and quiet place within it till this storm has blown over, you might then steal away unobserved. don garçia says that now there is such a keen search made after the lutherans, that every man who cannot give a good account of himself is like to be taken for one of the accursed sect. but that cannot last for ever; in six months or so the panic will be past. and those six months you may spend in safety, hidden away in the lodging of my lavandera."[ ] [ ] washerwoman. "you are kind--" "peace, and listen. i have arranged the whole matter. and once you are there, i will see that you lack nothing. it is in the morrero;[ ] a house hidden in a very labyrinth of lanes, a chamber in the house which a man would need to look for very particularly ere he found it." [ ] moorish quarter of the city. "how shall _i_ succeed in finding it?" "you noticed the pretty girl who led in my little inez? pepe, the lavandera's son, is ready to die for the love of her. she will describe you to him, and engage his assistance in the adventure, telling him the story i have told her, that you wish to conceal yourself for a season, having stabbed your rival in a love affair." "o doña inez! _i!_--almost a priest!" "well, well; do not look so horror-stricken, amigo mio. what could i do? i dared not give them a hint of the truth, or both my hands full of double ducats would not have tempted them to stir in the affair. so i thought no shame of inventing a crime for you that would win their interest and sympathy, and dispose them to aid you." "passing strange," said carlos. "had i only sinned against the law of god and the life of my neighbour, they would gladly help me to escape; did they dream that i read his words in my own tongue, they would give me up to death." "juanita is a good little christian," remarked doña inez; "and pepe also is a very honest lad. but perhaps you may find some sympathy with the old crone of a lavandera, who is of moorish blood, and, it is whispered, knows more of mohammed than she does of her breviary." carlos disclaimed all connection with the followers of the false prophet. "how should i know the difference?" said doña inez. "i thought it was all the same, heresy and heresy. but i was about to say, pepe is a gallant lad, a regular _majo_; his hand knows its way either amongst the strings of a guitar, or on the hilt of a dagger. he has often served caballeros who were out of nights serenading their ladies; and he will go equipped as if for such an adventure. you, also, bind a guitar on your shoulder (you could use one in old times, and to good purpose too, if you have not forgotten all christian accomplishments together); bribe old sancho to leave the gates open, and sally forth to-morrow night when the clock strikes the midnight hour. pepe will wait for you in the calle del candilejo until one." "to-morrow night?" "i would have named to-night, but pepe has a dance to attend. moreover, i knew not whether i could arrange this interview in sufficient time to prepare you. now, cousin," she added anxiously, "you understand your part, and you will not fail in it." "i understand everything, señora my cousin. from my heart i thank you for the noble effort to save me. whether in its result it shall prove successful or no, already it is successful in giving me hope and strength, and renewing my faith in old familiar kindness." "hush! that step is don garçia's. it is best you should go." "only one word more, señora. will my generous cousin add to her goodness by giving my brother, when it can be done with safety, a hint of how it has fared with me?" "yes; that shall be cared for. now, adios." "i kiss your feet, señora." she hastily extended her hand, upon which he pressed a kiss of friendship and gratitude. "god bless you, my cousin," he said. "vaya con dios," she responded. "for it is our last meeting," she added mentally. she stood and watched the retreating figure with tears in her bright eyes, and in her heart a memory that went back to old times, when she used to intercede with her rough brothers for the delicate shrinking child, who was younger, as well as frailer, than all the rest. "he was ever gentle and good, and fit to be a holy priest," she thought. "ay de mi, for the strange, sad change! yet, after all, i cannot see that he is so greatly changed. playing with the child, talking with me, he is just the same carlos as of old. but the devil is very cunning. god and our lady keep us from his wiles!" xxv. waiting. "our night is dreary, and dim our day, and if thou turn thy face away, we are sinful, feeble, and helpless dust, and have none to look to and none to trust." hogg. thus was carlos roused from the dull apathy of forced inaction. with the courage and energy that are born of hope, he made the few and simple preparations for his flight that were in his power. he also visited as many as he could of his afflicted friends, feeling that his ministry among them was now drawing to a close. he rejoined his uncle's family as usual at the evening meal. don balthazar, the empleado, was not present at its commencement, but soon came in, looking so much disturbed that his father asked, "what is amiss?" "there is nothing amiss, señor and my father," answered the young man, as he raised a large cup of manzanilla to his lips. "is there any news in the city?" asked his brother don manuel. don balthazar set down the empty cup. "no great news," he answered. "a curse upon those lutheran dogs that are setting the place in an uproar." "what! more arrests," said don manuel the elder. "it is awful. the number reached eight hundred yesterday. who is taken now?" "a priest from the country, doctor juan gonzalez, and a friar named olmedo. but that is nothing. they might take all the churchmen in all the spains, and fling them into the lowest dungeons of the triana for me. it is a different matter when we come to speak of ladies--ladies, too, of the first families and highest consideration." a slight shudder, and a kind of forward movement, as if to catch what was coming, passed round the table. but don balthazar seemed reluctant to say more. "is it any of our acquaintances?" asked the sharp, high-pitched voice of doña sancha at last. "every one is acquainted with don pedro garçia de xeres y bohorques. it is--i tremble to tell you--his daughter." "_which?_" cried gonsalvo, in tones that turned the gaze of all on his livid face and fierce eager eyes. "st. iago, brother! you need not look thus at me. is it my fault?--it is the learned one, of course, doña maria. poor lady, she may well wish now that she had never meddled with anything beyond her breviary." "our lady and all the saints defend us! doña maria in prison for heresy--horrible! who will be safe now?" the ladies exclaimed, crossing themselves shudderingly. but the men used stronger language. fierce and bitter were the anathemas they heaped upon heresy and heretics. yet it is only just to say that, had they dared, they might have spoken differently. probably in their secret hearts they meant the curses less for the victims than for their oppressors; and had spain been a land in which men might speak what they thought, gonzales de munebrãga would have been devoted to a lower place in hell than luther or calvin. only two were silent. before the eye of carlos rose the sweet thoughtful face of the young girl, as he had seen it last, radiant with the faith and hope kindled by the sublime words of heavenly promise spoken by losada. but the sight of another face--still, rigid, deathlike--drove that vision away. gonsalvo sat opposite to him at the table. and had he never heard the strange story doña inez told him, that look would have revealed it all. neither curse nor prayer passed the white lips of gonsalvo. not one of all the bitter words, found so readily on slighter occasions, came now to his aid. the fiercest outburst of passion would have seemed less terrible to carlos than this unnatural silence. yet none of the others, after the first moment, appeared to notice it. or if they did observe anything strange in the look and manner of gonsalvo, it was imputed to physical pain, from which he often suffered, but for which he rejected, and even resented, sympathy, until at last it ceased to be offered him. having given what expression they dared to their outraged feelings, they once more turned their attention to the unfinished repast. it was not at all a cheerful meal, yet it was duly partaken of, except by gonsalvo and carlos, both of whom left the table as soon as they could without attracting attention. willingly would carlos have endeavoured to console his cousin; but he did not dare to speak to him, or even to allow him to guess that he saw the anguish of his soul. one day still remained to him before his flight. in the morning, though not very early, he set out to finish his farewell visits to his friends. he had not gone many paces from the house, when he observed a gentleman in plain black clothing, with sword and cloak, look at him regardfully as he passed. a moment afterwards the same person, having apparently changed his mind as to the direction in which he wished to go, hurried by him at a rapid pace; and with a murmured "pardon, señor," thrust a billet into his hand. not doubting that one of his friends had sent an emissary to warn him of some danger, carlos turned into one of the narrow winding lanes with which the semi-oriental city abounds, and finding himself safe from observation, cast a hasty glance at the billet. his eye just caught the words, "his reverence the lord inquisitor--don gonsalvo--after midnight--revelations of importance--strict secrecy." what did it all mean? did the writer wish to inform him that his cousin intended betraying him to the inquisition? he did not believe it. but the sound of approaching footsteps made him thrust the paper hastily away; and in another moment his sleeve was grasped by gonsalvo. "give it to me," said his cousin in a breathless whisper. "give you what?" "the paper that born idiot and marplot put into thy hands, mistaking thee for me. curse the fool! did he not know i was lame?" carlos showed the note, still holding it. "is this what you mean?" he asked. "you have read it! _honourable!_" cried gonsalvo, with a bitter sneer. "you are unjust to me. it bears no address; and i could not suppose otherwise than that it was intended for myself. however, i only read the few disconnected words upon which my eye first chanced to fall." the cousins stood gazing in each other's faces; as those might do that meet in mortal combat, ere they close hand to hand. each was pondering whether the other was capable of doing him a deadly injury. yet, after all, each held, at the bottom of his heart, a conviction that the other might be trusted. carlos, though he had the greater cause for apprehension, was the first to come to a conclusion. almost with a smile he handed the note to gonsalvo. "whatever yon mysterious billet may mean to don gonsalvo," he said, "i am convinced that he means no harm to any one bearing the name of alvarez de meñaya." "you will never repent that word. and it is true--in the sense you speak it," returned gonsalvo, taking the paper from his hand. at that moment he was irresolute whether to confide in carlos or no. but the touch of his cousin's hand decided him. it was cold and trembling. one so weak in heart and nerve was obviously unfit to share the burden of a brave man's desperate resolve. carlos went his way, firmly believing that gonsalvo intended no ill to him. but what then did he intend? had he solicited the inquisitor for a private midnight interview merely to throw himself at his feet, and with impassioned eloquence to plead the cause of doña maria? were "important revelations" only a blind to procure his admission? impossible! who, past the age of infancy, would kneel to the storm to implore it to be still, or to the fire to ask it to subdue its rage? perhaps some dreamy enthusiast, unacquainted with the world and its ways, might still be found sanguine enough for such a project, but certainly not don gonsalvo alvarez de meñaya. or had he a bribe to offer? inquisitors, like other churchmen, were known to be subject to human frailties; of course they would not touch gold, but, according to a well-known spanish proverb, you were invited to throw it into their cowls. and munebrãga could scarcely have fed his numerous train of insolent retainers, decked his splendid barge with gold and purple, and brought rare plants and flowers from every known country to his magnificent gardens, without very large additions to the acknowledged income of the inquisitor-general's deputy. but, again, not all the wealth of the indies would avail to open the gates of the triana to an obstinate heretic, however it might modify the views of "his reverence" upon the merits of a _doubtful_ case. and even to procure a few slight alleviations in the treatment of the accused, would have required a much deeper purse than gonsalvo's. moreover, carlos saw that the young man was "bitter of soul;" ready for any desperate deed. what if he meant to accuse _himself_. amidst the careless profanity in which he had been too wont to indulge, many a word had fallen from his lips that might be contrary to sound doctrine in the estimation of inquisitors, comparatively lenient as they were to _blasphemers_. but what possible benefit to doña maria would be gained by his throwing himself into the jaws of death? and if it were really his resolve to commit suicide, by way of ending his own miseries, he could surely accomplish the act in a more direct and far less painful manner. thus carlos pondered; but in whatever way he regarded the matter, he could not escape from the idea that his cousin intended some dangerous or fatal step. gonsalvo was too still, too silent. this was an evil sign. carlos would have felt comparatively easy about him had he made him shrink and shudder by an outburst of the fiercest, most indignant curses. for the less emotion is wasted in expression, the more remains, like pent-up steam, to drive the engine forward in its course. moreover, there was an evil light in gonsalvo's eye; a gleam like that of hope, but hope that was certainly not kindled from above. although the very crisis of his own fate was now approaching, and every faculty might have had full occupation nearer home, carlos was haunted perpetually by the thought of his cousin. it continued to occupy him not only during his visits to his friends, but afterwards in the solitude and silence of his own apartment. we all know the strange perversity with which, in times of suspense and sorrow, the mind will sometimes run riot upon matters irrelevant, and even apparently trivial. with slow footsteps the hours stole on; miserable hours to carlos, except in so for as he could spend them in prayer, now his only resource and refuge. after pleading for himself, for juan, for his dear imprisoned brethren and sisters, he named gonsalvo; and was led most earnestly to implore god's mercy for his unhappy cousin. as he thought of his misery, so much greater than his own; his loneliness, without god in the world; his sorrow, without hope,--his pleading grew impassioned. and when at last he rose from his knees, it was with that sweet sense that god would hear--nay, that he _had_ heard--which is one of the mysteries of the new life, the precious things that no man knoweth save he that receiveth them. then, believing it was nearly midnight, he quickly finished his simple preparations, took his guitar (which had now lain unused for a long time), and sallied forth from his chamber. xxvi. don gonsalvo's revenge. "our god, the all just, unto himself reserves this royalty, the secret chastening of the guilty heart; the fiery touch, the scourge that purifies-- leave it with him. yet make not that thy trust; for that strong heart of thine--oh, listen yet!-- must in its depths o'ercome the very wish of death or torture to the guilty one, ere it can sleep again." hemans. don manuel's house had once belonged to a moorish cid, or lord. it had been assigned to the first conde de nuera, as one of the original _conquistadors_ of seville; and he had bequeathed it to his second son. it had a turret, after the moorish fashion, and the upper chamber of this had been given to carlos on his first arrival in the city; from an idea that the theological student would require a solitary place for study and devotion, or, at least, that it would be decorous to suppose so. the room beneath had been occupied by don juan, but since his departure it was appropriated by gonsalvo, who liked solitude, and took advantage of his improved health to escape from the ground-floor, to which his infirmities had long confined him. as carlos stole noiselessly down the narrow winding stair, he noticed a light in his cousin's room. this in itself did not surprise him. but he certainly felt a little disconcerted when, just as he passed the door, don gonsalvo opened it, and met him face to face. he also was fully equipped in sword and cloak, and carried a torch in his hand. "vaya, vaya, don carlos," he said reproachfully; "after all, thou couldst not trust me." "nay, i did trust you." from fear of being overheard, both entered the nearest room--don gonsalvo's--and its owner closed the door softly. "you are stealing away from fear of me, and thereby throwing yourself into the fire. do it not, don carlos; be advised, and do it not." he spoke earnestly, and without a shadow of the old bitterness and sarcasm. "nay, it is not thus. my flight was planned ere yesterday; and in concert with one who both can and will provide me with the means of safety. it is best i should go." "enough said then," returned gonsalvo, more coldly. "farewell; i seek not to detain you. farewell; for though we may go forth together, our paths divide, and for ever, at the door." "your path is perhaps less safe than mine, don gonsalvo." "talk of what you understand, cousin. my path is safety itself. and now that i think of it (if you could be trusted), you might aid me perhaps. did you know all, i dare not doubt that you would rejoice to do it." "god knows how joyfully i would aid you if i could, don gonsalvo. but i fear you are bound on a useless, and worse than useless, errand." "you know not my errand." "but i know to whom you go this night. oh, my cousin, is it possible you can dream that prayer of yours will soften hearts harder than the nether millstone?" "i know the way to one heart; and though it be the hardest of all, i shall reach it." "were you to pour the wealth of el dorado at the feet of gonzales de munebrãga, he neither would nor could unloose one bolt of that prison." gonsalvo's wild look changed suddenly into one of wistful earnestness, almost of tenderness. he said, lowering his voice,-- "near as death, the revealer of secrets, may be to me, there are still some questions worth the asking. perchance _you_ can throw a gleam of light upon this horrible darkness. we are speaking frankly now, and as in god's presence. tell me, _is that charge true_?" "frankly, and in the sense in which you ask--it is." the last fatal words carlos only whispered. gonsalvo made no answer; but a kind of momentary spasm passed across his face. carlos at length went on in a low voice: "she knew the evangel long before i did, though she is so young--not yet one-and-twenty. she was the pupil of dr. egidius; but he was wont to say he learned more from her than she did from him. her keen, bright intellect cut through sophistries, and reached truth so quickly. and god gave her abundantly of his grace; making her willing, for that truth, to endure all things. oft have i seen her sweet face kindle and glow whilst he who taught us spoke of the joy and strength given to those that suffer for the name of christ. i am persuaded he is with her now, and will be with her even to the end. could you gain access to her where she is, i think she would tell you she possesses a treasure of peace of which neither death nor suffering, neither cruelty of fiends nor worse cruelty of fiend-like men, can avail to rob her." "she is a saint--she will be a blessed saint in heaven, let them say what they may," murmured gonsalvo hoarsely. then the fierce look returned to his face again. "but i think the old christians of castile, the men whose good swords made the infidels bite the dust, and planted the cross on their painted towers, are no better than curs and dastards." "in that they suffer these things?" "yes; a thousand times, yes. in the name of man's honour and woman's loveliness, are there, in our good city of seville, neither fathers, nor brothers, nor lovers left alive? no man who thinks the sweetest eyes ever seen worth six inches of steel in five skilful fingers? no one man, save the poor forgotten cripple, don gonsalvo alvarez. but he thanks god this night that he has spared his life, and left strength enough in his feeble limbs to beat him into a murderer's presence." "don gonsalvo! what do you mean?" cried carlos, shrinking from him. "lower thy voice, an' it please thee. but why should i fear to tell thee--_thee_, who hast good cause to be the death-foe of inquisitors? if thou art not cur and dastard too, thou wilt applaud and pray for me. for i suppose heretics pray, at least as well as inquisitors. i said i would reach the heart of gonzales de munebrãga this night. not with gold. there is another metal of keener temper, which enters in where even gold cannot come." "then you mean--_murder_?" said carlos, again drawing near him, and laying his hand on his arm. gonsalvo sank into a seat, half mechanically, half from an instinct that led him to spare the strength he would need so sorely by-and-by. in the momentary pause that followed, the clock of san vicente tolled the midnight hour. "yes," replied gonsalvo steadily; "i mean murder--as the shepherd does who strangles the wolf with his paw on the lamb." "oh, think--" "i have thought of everything. and mark me, don carlos, i have but one regret. it is that my weapon deals an instantaneous death. such revenge is poor and flavourless after all. i have heard of poisons whose least drop, mingling with the blood, ensures a slow agonizing death--time to learn what torture means, and to drain to the dregs the cup filled for others--to curse god and man ere he dies. for a phial of such, wherewith to anoint my blade, i would sell my soul to-night." "o gonsalvo, this is horrible! they are wild, wicked words you speak. pray god to pardon you!" "i adjure him by his justice to prosper me," said gonsalvo, raising his head defiantly. "he will not prosper you. and do you dream that such a mad achievement (suppose you even succeed in it) will open prison-doors and set captives free? alas! alas! that we are not at the mercy of a tyrant's _will_. for tyrants, the worst of them, sometimes relent; and--they are mortal. that which is crushing us is not a living being, an organism with nerves, and brain, and blood. it is a system, a thing, a terrible engine, that moves on in its resistless way, cold and lifeless, without will or feeling. strong as adamant, it kills, tortures, destroys; obeying laws far away out of our sight. were valdez and munebrãga, and all the board of inquisitors, dead corpses by the morning light, not a single dungeon in the triana would open its pitiless gate." "i do not believe _that_," replied gonsalvo, rather more quietly. "surely there must be some confusion, of which advantage may be taken by friends of the prisoners. this, indeed, is the motive which now induces me to confide in you. _you_ may know those who, if they had the chance, could strike a shrewd blow to save their dearest on earth from torture and death." but gonsalvo read no answer in the sorrowful face of carlos to the searching look of inquiry with which he said this. after a silence he went on,-- "suppose the worst, however. the holy office sorely needs a little blood-letting, and will be much the better for it. whoever succeeds, munebrãga will have my dagger flashing in his eyes, and will take care how he deals with his prisoners, and whom he arrests." "i implore you to think of yourself," said carlos. gonsalvo smiled. "i know i shall pay the forfeit," he said, "even as those who slew the inquisitor pedro arbues before the high altar in saragossa. but"--here the smile faded, and the stern set look returned to his face--"i shall not pay more, for a man's triumphant vengeance, than those fiends will dare to inflict upon a tender, delicately nurtured girl for the crime of a mystic meditation, or a few words of prayer not properly rounded off with an ave." "true. but then you will suffer alone. she has god with her." "i _can_ suffer alone." for that word carlos envied him. _he_ shrank in terror from loneliness, from suffering, shuddering at the very thought of the dungeon and the torture-room. and just then the first quarter of his hour of grace chimed from the clock of san vicente. what if he and pepe should fail to meet? he would not think of that now. whatever happened, gonsalvo _must_ be saved. he went on,-- "here you can suffer alone and be strong. but how will you endure the loneliness of the long hereafter, away from god's presence, from light and life and hope? are you content that you, and she for whom you give your life, should be sundered throughout eternity?" "nay; i am casting my lot in with hers. if the church curses her (pure and holy as she ever was), its anathema shall fall on me too. if only the church's key opens heaven, she and i will both stand without." "yet you know she will enter heaven. shall _you_?" gonsalvo hesitated. "it will not be the blood of a villain that will bar my way," he said. "god says, 'thou shalt not kill.'" "then what will he do with gonzales de munebrãga?" "he will do that with him of which, if you but dreamed, it would change your fiercest hate into saddest, deepest pity. have you realized what a span is our life here compared with the countless ages of eternity? think! for god's chosen a few weeks, or months at most, of solitude and fear and pain, ended perhaps by--but that is as he pleases; _ended_, at all events. then add up the million years, fill them with the joy of victory, and the presence and love of christ himself. can they not, and we for them, be content with this?" "are you content with it yourself?" gonsalvo suddenly interrupted. "you seek flight." the glow faded from the face of carlos, and his eyes sank to the ground. "christ has not called me yet," he answered in a lower tone. there was a silence; then he resumed: "turn now to the other side. would you change, even this hour, with gonzales de munebrãga? but take him from his wealth, and his pomp, and his sinful luxuries, all defiled with blood, and what remains for him? everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." "everlasting fire!" gonsalvo repeated, as if the thought pleased him. "leave him in god's hand. it is a stronger hand than yours, don gonsalvo." "everlasting fire! i would send him there to-night." "and whither would you send your own sinful soul?" "god might pardon, though the church cursed." "possibly. but to enter god's heaven you need something besides pardon." "what?" asked gonsalvo, half wearily, half incredulously. "'holiness; without which no man can see the lord.'" "holiness?" gonsalvo questioned, as if the word was strange to him, and he attached no meaning to it. "yes," carlos went on, with intense and ever increasing earnestness; "unless, even from that passionate heart of yours, revenge and hatred are banished, you can _never_ see god, never come where--" "hold thy peace, trifler!" gonsalvo interrupted with angry impatience. "too long have i tarried, listening to thine idle talk. priests and women are content with words; brave men _act_. farewell to thee!" "one word more, only one." carlos drew near and laid his hand on his cousin's arm. "nay, you _shall_ listen to me. seemeth it to you a thing incredible that that heart of yours can be changed and softened to a love like his who prayed on the cross for his murderers? yet it can be. _he_ can do it. he gives pardon, holiness, peace. peace of which you dream not now, but which _she_ knows full well. o don gonsalvo, better join her where she is going, than wildly, rashly, and most uselessly peril your soul to avenge her!" "uselessly! were that true indeed--" "ay de mi! who can doubt it?" "would i had time for thought!" "take it, in god's name, and pray him to keep you from a great crime." for a few moments he sat still--still as the dead. then he started suddenly. "already the hour is passing," he exclaimed; "i shall be too late. fool that i was, to be almost moved from my purpose by the idle words of a--the weakness is past now. still, ere we part, give me thy hand, don carlos, for, on my faith, i never liked thee half so well." very sorrowfully carlos extended it, rather wondering as he did so that the energetic gonsalvo failed to spring from his seat and prepare to be gone. gonsalvo stirred not, even to take the offered hand. a deathlike paleness overspread his face, and a cry of terror had well nigh broken from his lips. but he choked it back. "something is strangely wrong with me," he faltered. "i cannot move. i feel dead--_dead_--from the waist down." "god has spoken to you from heaven," said carlos solemnly. he felt as if a miracle had been wrought in his presence. his protestantism had not freed him from the superstitions of his age. had he lived three centuries later, he would have seen nothing miraculous in the disease with which gonsalvo was stricken, but rather have called it the natural result of intense agitation and excitement, acting upon a frame already weakened. yet the reckless gonsalvo was the more superstitious of the two. he was at war with the creed in which he had been nurtured; but that older and deeper kind of superstition which has its root in human nature had, for this very reason, a stronger hold upon him. "dead--dead!" he repeated, the words falling from his lips in broken, awe-struck whispers. "the limbs i misused! the feet that led me into sin! god--god have mercy upon me! it is thy hand!" "it is his hand; a sign he has not forsaken thee; that he means to bring thee back to himself. oh, my cousin, do not despair. hope yet in his mercy, for it is great." carlos knelt down beside him, took his passive hand in his, and spoke earnest, loving words of hope and comfort. the last quarter, ere the single stroke that should announce that the hour appointed for his own flight was past, chimed from the clock on the church tower. yet he did not move--he had forgotten self. at last, however, he said, "but it may be something can be done to relieve you. you ought to have medical aid without delay. i should have thought of this before. i will rouse the household." "no; that would endanger you. go on your way, and bid the porter do it when you are gone." it was too late, the household _was_ roused. a loud authoritative knocking at the outer gate sent the blood back from the hearts of both with sudden and horrible fear. there was a sound of opening gates, followed by footsteps--voices--cries. gonsalvo was the first to understand all. "the alguazils of the holy office!" he exclaimed. "i am lost!" cried carlos, large drops gathering on his brow. "conceal yourself," said gonsalvo; but he knew his words were vain. already his quick ear had caught the sound of his cousin's name; and already footsteps were on the stairs. carlos glanced round the room. for a moment his eye rested on the window, eighty feet above the ground. better spring from it and perish! no, that would be self-murder. in god's name he would await them manfully. "you will be searched," gonsalvo whispered hurriedly; "have you aught about your person that may add to your danger?" carlos drew from its place of concealment the heroic juliano's treasured gift. "i will hide it," said his cousin; and taking it hastily, he slipped it beneath his inner vest, where it lay in strange neighbourhood with a small, exquisitely tempered poniard, destined never to be used. the torch-light within, perhaps the voices, guided the alguazils to that room. a hand was placed on the door. "they are coming, don carlos," cried gonsalvo; "i am thy murderer." "no--no fault of thine. always remember that," said carlos, in his sharpest anguish generous still. then for one brief moment, that seemed an age, he was deaf to all outward things. afterwards he was himself again. and something more than himself perhaps. now, as in other moments of intense excitement, the spirit of his race descended on him. when the alguazils entered, it was don carlos alvarez de santillanos y meñaya who met them, with folded arms, with steadfast eye, and pale but dauntless forehead. all was quiet, regular, and most orderly. don manuel, roused from his slumbers, appeared with the alguazils, and respectfully requested a sight of the warrant upon which they proceeded. it was produced; and all could see that it was duly signed, and sealed with the famous seal--the sword and olive branch, the dog with the flaming brand, the sorely outraged, "justitia et misericordia." had don manuel alvarez been king of all the spains, and carlos his heir-apparent, he dared not have offered the least resistance then. he had no wish to resist, however; he bowed obsequiously, and protested his own and his family's devotion to the faith and the holy office. but he added (perhaps merely as a matter of form), that he could bring many witnesses of unimpeachable character to testify to his nephew's orthodoxy, and hoped to succeed in clearing him from whatever odious imputation had induced their reverences to order his arrest. meanwhile gonsalvo gnashed his teeth in impotent rage and despair. he would have bartered his life for two minutes of health and strength in which to rush suddenly on the alguazils, and give carlos time to escape, let the consequences of such frantic audacity be what they might. but the bands of disease, stronger than iron, made the body a prison for the indignant, tortured spirit. carlos spoke for the first time. "i am ready to go with you," he said to the chief of the alguazils. "do you wish to examine my apartment? you are welcome. it is the chamber over this." having gone over every detail of such a scene a thousand times in imagination, he knew that the examination of papers and personal effects usually formed a part of it. and he had no fears for the result, as, in preparation for his flight, he had carefully destroyed everything that he thought could implicate himself or any one else. "don carlos--cousin!" cried gonsalvo suddenly, as surrounded by the officers he was about to leave the room. "vaya con dios! a braver man than you have i never seen." carlos turned on him one long, sorrowful gaze. "_tell ruy_," he said. that was all. then there was trampling of footsteps overhead, and the sound of voices, not excited or angry, but cool, business-like, even courteous. then the footsteps descended, passed the door of gonsalvo's room, sounded along the corridor, grew fainter on the great staircase, died away in the court. less than an hour afterwards, the great gate of the triana opened to receive a new victim. the grave familiar held it, bowing low, until the prisoner and his guard had passed through. then it was swung to again, and barred and bolted, shutting out from don carlos alvarez all help and hope, all charity and all mercy--save only the mercy of god. xxvii. my brother's keeper. "since she loved him, he went carefully, bearing a thing so precious in his hand." george eliot. about a week afterwards, don juan alvarez dismounted at the door of his uncle's mansion. his shout soon brought the porter, a "pure and ancient christian," who had spent nearly all his life in the service of the family. "god save you, father," said juan. "is my brother in the house?" "no, señor and your worship,"--the old man hesitated, and looked confused. "where shall i find him, then?" cried juan; "speak at once, if you know." "may it please your noble excellency, i--i know nothing. at least--the saints have mercy on us!" and he trembled from head to foot. juan thrust him aside, nearly knocking him down in his haste, and dashed breathless into his uncle's private room, on the right hand side of the patio. don manuel was there, seated at a table, looking over some papers. "where is my brother?" asked juan sternly and abruptly, searching his face with his keen dark eyes. "holy saints defend us!" cried don manuel, nearly startled out of his ordinary decorum. "and what madness brings _you_ here?" "where is my brother?" juan repeated, in the same tone, and without moving a muscle. "be quiet--be reasonable, nephew don juan. do not make a disturbance; it will be worse for all of us. we did all we could--" "for heaven's sake, señor, will you answer me?" "have patience. we did all we could for him, i was about to say; and more than we ought. the guilt was his own, if he was suspected and taken--" "_taken!_ then i come too late." sinking into the nearest seat, he covered his face with both hands, and groaned aloud. don manuel alvarez had never learned to reverence the sacredness of a great sorrow. "rushing in" where such as he might well fear to tread, he presumed to offer consolation. "come, then, nephew don juan," he said, "you know as well as i do that 'water that has run by will turn no mill,' and that 'there is no good in throwing the rope after the bucket.' no man can alter that which is past. all we can do is to avoid worse mischief in future." "when was it?" asked juan, without looking up. "a week agone." "seven days and nights!" "thereabouts. but _you_--are you in love with destruction yourself, that, when you were safe and well at nuera, you must needs comes hither again?" "i came to save him." "unheard of folly! if _you_ have been meddling with these matters--and it is but too likely, seeing you were always with him (though, the saints forbid i should suspect an honourable soldier like you of anything worse than imprudence)--do you not know they will wring the whole truth out of _him_ with very little trouble, and your life is not worth a brass maravedì?" juan started to his feet, and glared scorn and defiance in his uncle's face. "whoever dares to hint so vile a slander," he cried, "by my faith he shall repent it, were he my uncle ten times over. don carlos alvarez never did, and never will, betray a trust, let those wretches deal with him as they may. but i know him; he will die, or worse,--they will make him mad." here juan's voice failed, and he stood in silent horror, gazing on the dread vision that rose before his mind. don manuel was daunted by his vehemence. "you are the best judge yourself of what amount of danger you may be incurring," he said. "but let me tell you, señor don juan, that i hold you rather a dangerous guest to harbour under the circumstances. to have the alguazils of the holy office twice in my house would be enough to cost me all my places, not to mention the disgrace of it." "you shall not lose a real by me or mine," returned juan proudly. "i did not mean, however, to refuse you hospitality," said don manuel, relieved, yet a little uneasy, perhaps even remorseful. "but i mean to decline it, señor. i have only two favours to ask of you," he continued: "one, to allow me free intercourse with my betrothed; the other, to permit me"--his voice faltered, stopped. with a great effort he resumed--"to permit me to examine my brother's room, and whatever effects he may have left there." "now you speak more rationally," said his uncle, mistaking the self-control of indignant pride for genuine calmness. "but as to your brother's effects, you may spare your pains; for the alguazils set the seal of the holy office upon them on the night of his arrest, and they have since carried them away. as to the other matter, what doña beatriz may think of the connection, after the infamy in which your branch of the family is involved, i cannot tell." a burning flush mounted to juan's cheek as he answered, "i trust my betrothed; even as i trust my brother." "you can see the lady herself. she may be better able than i to persuade you to consult for your own safety. for if you are not a madman, you will return at once to nuera, which you ought never to have quitted; or you will take the earliest opportunity of rejoining the army." "i shall not stir from seville till i obtain my brother's deliverance; or--" juan did not name the other alternative. involuntarily he placed his hand on his belt, in which he had concealed certain old family jewels, which he believed would produce a considerable sum of money; for his last faint hope for carlos lay in a judicious appeal to the all-powerful "don dinero."[ ] [ ] the lord dollar. "you will _never_ leave it, then," said don manuel. "and you must hold me excused from aiding and abetting your folly. your brother's business has cost me and mine more than enough already. i had rather ten thousand times that a man had died of the plague in my house, were it for the scandal's sake alone! nor, bad as it is, is the scandal all. since that miserable night, my unhappy son gonsalvo, in whose apartment the arrest took place, has been sick unto death, and out of his mind." "don gonsalvo! what brought my brother to his room?" "the devil, whose servant he is, may know; i do not. he was found there, in his sword and cloak, as if ready to go forth, when the officers came." "did he leave no message--no word for me?" "not one word. i know not if he spoke at all, save to offer to show the alguazils his personal effects. to do him justice, nothing suspicious was found amongst them. but the less said on the subject the better. i wash my hands of it, and of him. i thought he would have done honour to the family; but he has proved its sorest disgrace." "señor, what you say of him you say of me also," said juan, growing white with anger. "and already i have heard quite enough." "that is as you please, señor don juan." "i shall only trespass upon you for the favour you have promised me--permission to wait upon doña beatriz." "i shall apprise her of your presence, and give her leave to act as she sees fit." and glad to put an end to the interview, don manuel left the room. juan sank into a seat once more, and gave himself up to an agony of grief for his brother. so absorbed was he in his sorrow, that a light footstep entered and approached unheard by him. at last a small hand touched his arm. he started and looked up. whatever his anguish of heart might be, he was still the loyal lover of doña beatriz. so the next moment found him on his knees saluting that hand with his lips. and then followed certain ceremonies abundantly interesting to those who enact them, but apt to prove tedious when described. "my lady's devoted slave," said don juan, using the ordinary language of the time, "bears a breaking heart to-day. we knew neither father nor mother; there were but the two of us." "did you not receive my letter, praying you to remain at nuera?" asked the lady. "pardon me, queen of my heart, in that i dared to disregard a wish of yours. but i knew _his_ danger, and i came to save him. alas! too late." "i am not sure that i do pardon you, don juan." "then, i presume so far as to say, that i know doña beatriz better than she knows herself. indeed, had i acted otherwise, she would scarce have pardoned me. how would it have been possible for me to consult for my own safety, leaving him, alone and unaided, in such fearful peril?" "you acknowledge there is peril--_to you_?" "there may be, señora." "ay de mi! why, in heaven's name, have you thus involved yourself? o don juan, you have dealt very cruelly with me!" "light of my eyes, life of my life, what mean you by these words?" "was it not cruel to allow your brother, with his gentle, winning ways, and his soft specious words, to lead you step by step from the faith of our fathers, until he had you entangled in i know not what horrible heresies, and made you put in peril your honour, your liberty, your life--everything?" "we only sought truth." "truth!" echoed the lady, with a contemptuous stamp of her small foot and twirl of her fan. "what is truth? what good will truth do me if those cruel men drag you from your bed at midnight, take you to that dreadful place, stretch you on the rack?" but that last horror was too much to bear; doña beatriz hid her face in her hands, and wept and sobbed passionately. juan soothed her with every tender, lover-like art. "i will be very prudent, dearest lady," he said at last; adding, as he gazed on her beautiful face, "i have too much to live for not to hold life very precious." "will you promise to fly--to leave the city _now_, before suspicions are awakened which may make flight impossible?" "my first and my only love, i would die to fulfil your slightest wish. but this thing i cannot do." "and wherefore not, señor don juan?" "can you ask? i must hazard everything, spend everything, in the chance--if there be a chance--of saving him, or, at least, of softening his fate." "then god help us both," said doña beatriz. "amen! pray to him day and night, señora. perhaps he may have pity on us." "there is no chance of saving don carlos. know you not that of all the prisoners the holy house receives, scarce one in a thousand goes forth again to take his place in the world?" juan shook his head. he knew well that his task was almost hopeless; yet, even by doña beatriz, he was not to be moved from his determination. but he thanked her in strong, passionate words for her faith in him and her truth to him. "no sorrow can divide us, my beloved," he said, "nor even what they call shame, falsely as they speak therein. you are my star, that shines on me throughout the darkness." "i have promised." "my uncle's family may seek to divide us, and i think they will. but the lady of my heart will not heed their idle words?" doña beatriz smiled. "i am a lavella," she said. "do you not know our motto?--'true unto death.'" "it is a glorious motto. may it be mine too." "take heed what you do, don juan. if you love me, you will look well to your footsteps, since, wherever they lead, mine are bound to follow." saying this, she rose, and stood gazing in his face with flushed cheek and kindling eyes. the words were such as might thrill any lover's heart with joy and gratitude. yet there was something in the look which accompanied them that changed joy and gratitude into vague fear and apprehension. the light in that dark eye seemed borrowed from the fire of some sublime but terrible resolve within. juan's heart quailed, though he knew not why, as he said, "my queen should never tread except through flowery paths." doña beatriz took up a little golden crucifix that, attached to a rosary of coral beads, hung from her girdle. "you see this cross, don juan?" "yes, señora mia." "on that horrible night when they dragged your brother to prison, i swore a sacred oath upon it. you esteemed me a child, don juan, when you read me chapters from your book, and talked freely to me about god, and faith, and the soul's salvation. perchance i was a child in some things. for i supposed them good words; how could they be otherwise, since you spoke them? i listened and believed, after a fashion; half thinking all the time of the pretty fans and trinkets you brought me, or of the pattern of such and such an one's mantilla that i had seen at mass. but your brother tore the veil from my eyes at last, and made me understand that those specious words, with which a child played childishly, were the crime that finds no pardon here or hereafter. of the hereafter i know not; of the here i know too much, god help me! there be fair ladies, not more deeply involved than i, who have changed their gilded saloons for the dungeons of the triana. but then it matters not so much about me. for i am not like other girls, who have fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers to care for them. saving don carlos (who was good to me for your sake), no one ever gave me more than the half-sorrowful, half-pitying kindness one might give a pet parrot from the indies. therefore, thinking over all things, and knowing well your reckless nature, señor don juan, i swore that night upon this holy cross, that if by evil hap _you_ were attainted for heresy, _i_ would go next day to the triana and accuse myself of the same crime." juan did not for a moment doubt that she would do it; and thus a chain, light as silk but strong as adamant, was flung around him. "doña beatriz, for my sake--" he began to plead. "for _my_ sake, don juan will take care of his life and liberty," she interrupted, with a smile that, if it had a little sadness, had very far more of triumph in it. she knew the power her resolve gave her over him: she had bought it dearly, and she meant to use it. "is it _still_ your wish to remain here," she continued; "or will you go abroad, and wait for better times?" juan paused for a moment. "no choice is left me while carlos pines uncomforted in a dungeon," he said at last, firmly, though very sorrowfully. "then you know what you risk, that is all," answered the lady, whose will was a match for his. in a marvellously short time had love and sorrow transformed the young and childish girl into a passionate, determined woman, with all the fire of her own southern skies in her heart. ere he departed, juan pleaded for permission to visit her frequently. but here again she showed a keen-sighted apprehensiveness for _him_, which astonished him. she cautioned him against their cousins, manuel and balthazar; who, if they thought him in danger of arrest, were quite capable of informing against him themselves, to secure a share of his patrimony. or they might gain the same end, without the disgrace of such a baseness, by putting him quietly out of the way with their daggers. on all accounts, his frequent presence at the house would be undesirable, and might be dangerous; but she agreed to inform him, by means of certain signals (which they arranged together), when he might pay a visit to her with safety. then, having bidden her farewell, don juan turned his back on his uncle's house with a heavy heart. xxviii. reaping the whirlwind. "all is lost, except a little life." byron. nearly a fortnight passed away before a tiny lace kerchief, fluttering at nightfall through the jealous grating of one of the few windows of don manuel's house that looked towards the street, told juan that he was at liberty to seek admission the next day. he was permitted to enter; but he explored the patio and all the adjacent corridors and rooms without seeing the face of which he was in search. he did not, indeed, meet any one, not even a domestic; for it was the eve of the feast of the ascension, and nearly all the household had gone to see the great tabernacle carried in state to the cathedral and set up there, in preparation for the solemnities of the following day. he thought this a good opportunity for satisfying his longing to visit the apartment his brother had been wont to occupy. in spite of what his uncle had said to the contrary, and indeed of the dictates of his own reason, he could not relinquish the hope that something which belonged to him--perhaps even some word or line traced by his hand--might reward his careful search. he ascended the stairs; not stealthily, or as if ashamed of his errand, for no one had the right to forbid him. he reached the turret without meeting any one, but had hardly placed his foot upon the stair that led to its upper apartment, when a voice called out, not very loudly,-- "chien va?" it was gonsalvo's. juan answered,-- "it is i--don juan." "come to me, for heaven's sake!" a private interview with a madman is not generally thought particularly desirable. but juan was a stranger to fear. he entered the room immediately, and was horror-stricken at the change in his cousin's appearance. a tangled mass of black hair mingled with his beard, and fell neglected over the pillow; while large, wild, melancholy eyes lit up the pallor of his wasted face. he lay, or rather reclined, on a couch, half covered by an embroidered quilt, but wearing a loose doublet, very carelessly thrown on. of late the cousins had been far from friendly. still juan from compassion stretched out his hand. but gonsalvo would not touch it. "did you know all," he said, "you would stab me where i lie, and thus make an end at once of the most miserable life under god's heaven." "i fear you are very ill, my cousin," said juan, kindly; for he thought gonsalvo's words the offspring of his wandering fancy. "from the waist downwards i am dead. it is god's hand; and he is just." "does your physician give hope of your recovery from this seizure?" with something like his old short, bitter laugh, gonsalvo answered--"i have no physician." "this must be one of his delusions," thought juan; "or else, since he cannot have losada, he has refused, with his usual obstinacy, to see any one else." he said aloud,--"that is not right, cousin don gonsalvo. you ought not to neglect lawful means of cure. señor sylvester areto is a very skilful physician; you might safely place yourself in his hands." "only there is one slight objection--my father and my brothers would not permit me to see him." juan was in no doubt how to regard this statement; but hoping to extract from him some additional information respecting his brother, he turned the conversation. "when did this malady seize you?" he asked. "close the door gently, and i will tell you all. and oh! tread softly, lest my mother, who lies asleep in the room beneath, worn out with watching, should wake and separate us. then must i bear my guilt and my anguish unconfessed to the grave." juan obeyed, and took a seat beside his cousin's couch. "sit where i can see your face," said gonsalvo; "i will not shrink even from _that_. don juan, i am your brother's murderer." juan started, and his colour changed rapidly. "if i did not think you were mad--" "i am no more mad than you are," gonsalvo interrupted. "i _was_ mad, indeed; but that horrible night, when god smote my body, i regained my reason. i see all things clearly now--too late." "am i to understand, then," said juan, rising from his seat, and speaking in measured tones, though his eye was like a tiger's--"am i to understand that you--_you_--denounced my brother? if so, thank god that you are lying helpless there." "i am not quite so vile a thing as that. i did not intend to harm a hair of his head; but i detained him here to his ruin. he had the means of escape provided, and but for me would have been in safety ere the alguazils came." "well for both of us your guilt was not greater. still, you cannot expect me--just yet--to forgive you." "i expect no forgiveness from man," said gonsalvo, who perhaps disdained to plead in his own exculpation the generous words of carlos. juan had by this time changed his tone towards his cousin, and assumed his perfect sanity; though, engrossed by the thought of his brother, he was quite unconscious of the mental process by which he had arrived at this conclusion. he asked,-- "but why did you detain him? how did you come to know at all of his intended flight?" "he had a safe asylum provided for him by some friend--i know not whom," said gonsalvo, in reply. "he was going forth at midnight to seek it. at the same hour i also"--(for a moment he hesitated, but quickly went on)--"was going forth--to plunge a dagger in my enemy's heart. we met face to face; and each confided his errand to the other. he sought, by argument and entreaty, to move me from a purpose which seemed to him a great crime. but ere our debate was ended, god laid his hand in judgment upon me; and whilst don carlos lingered, speaking words of comfort--brave and kind, though vain--the alguazils came, and he was taken." juan listened in gloomy silence. "did he leave no message, not one word, for me?" he asked at last, in a low voice. "yes; one word. filled with wonder at the calmness with which he met his terrible fate, i cried out, as they led him from the room, 'vaya con dios, don carlos, a braver man than you have i never seen!' with one long mournful look, that haunts me still, he said, '_tell ruy!_'" strong man as he was, don juan alvarez bowed his head and wept. they were the first tears the great sorrow had wrung from him--almost the first that he ever remembered shedding. gonsalvo saw no shame in them. "weep on," he said--"weep on; and thank god that thy tears are for sorrow only, not for remorse." hoarse and heavy sobs shook the strong frame. for some time they were the only sounds that broke the stillness. at length gonsalvo said, slowly,-- "he gave me something to keep, which in right should belong to thee." juan looked up. gonsalvo half raised himself, and drew a cushion from beneath his head. first he took off its outer cover of fine holland; then he inserted his hand into an opening that seemed like an accidental rip, and, not without some trouble, drew out a small volume. juan seized it eagerly: well did he know his brother's spanish testament. "take it," said gonsalvo; "but remember it is a dangerous treasure." "perhaps you are not sorry to part with it?" "i deserve that you should say so," answered gonsalvo, with unwonted gentleness. "but the truth is," he added, with a wan, sickly smile, "nothing can part me from it now, for i have learned almost every word of it by heart." "how could you, in so short a time, accomplish such a task?" asked juan, in surprise. "easily enough. i was alone long hours of the day, when i could read; and in the silent, sleepless nights i could recall and repeat what i read during the day. but for that i should be in truth what they call me--mad." "then you love its words?" "i _fear_ them," cried gonsalvo, with strange energy, flinging out his wasted arm over the counterpane. "they are words of life--words of fire. they are, to the church's words, the priest's threatenings, the priest's pardons, what your limbs, throbbing with healthy vigorous life, are to mine--cold, dead, impotent; or what the living champion--steel from head to heel, the toledo blade in his strong right hand--is to the painted san cristofro on the cathedral door. because i dare to say so much, my father pretends to think me mad; lest, wrecked as i am in mind and body, i should still find one terrible consolation,--that of flinging the truth for once in the face of the scribes and pharisees, and then suffering for it--like don carlos." he was silent from exhaustion, and lay with closed eyes and deathlike countenance. after a long pause, he resumed, in a low, weak voice,-- "some words are good--perhaps. there was san pablo, who was a blasphemer, and injurious." "don gonsalvo, my brother once said he would give his right hand that you shared his faith." "oh, did he?" a quick flush overspread the wan face. "but hark! a step on the stairs! my mother's." "i am neither afraid nor ashamed to be found here," said don juan. "my poor mother! she has shown me more tenderness of late than i deserved at her hands. do not let us involve her in trouble." juan greeted his aunt with due courtesy, and even attempted some words of condolence upon his cousin's illness. but he saw that the poor lady was terribly disconcerted, and indeed frightened, by his presence there. and not without cause, since mischief, even to bloodshed, might have followed had don manuel or either of his sons found juan in communication with gonsalvo. she conjured him to go, adding, by way of inducement,-- "doña beatriz is taking the air in the garden." "availing myself of your gracious permission, señora my aunt, i shall offer her my homage there; and so i kiss your feet.--adiõs, don gonsalvo." "adiõs, my cousin." doña katarina followed him out of the room. "he is not sane," she whispered anxiously, laying her hand on his arm; "he is out of his mind. you perceive it clearly, don juan?" "certainly i shall not dispute it, señora," juan answered, prudently. xxix. a friend at court. "i have a soul and body that exact a comfortable care in many ways." r. browning. don juan's peril was extreme. well known as he was to many of the imprisoned lutherans, it seemed a desperate chance that, amongst the numerous confessions wrung from them, no mention of his name should occur. he knew himself deeply implicated in the crime for which they were suffering--the one unpardonable crime in the eyes of rome. moreover, unlike his brother, whose temperament would have led him to avoid danger by every lawful means, he was by nature brave even to rashness, and bold even to recklessness. it was his custom to wear his heart on his lips; and though of late stern necessity had taught him to conceal what he thought, it was neither his inclination nor his habit to disguise what he felt. probably, not even his desire to aid carlos would have prevented his compromising himself by some rash word or deed, had not the soft hand of doña beatriz, strong in its weakness, held him back from destruction. not for one instant could he forget her terrible vow. with this for ever before his eyes, it is little marvel if he was willing to do anything, to bear anything--ay, almost to feign anything--rather than involve her he loved in a fate inconceivably horrible. and--alas for the brave, honest-hearted, truthful don juan alvarez!--it was often necessary to feign. if he meant to remain in seville, and to avoid the dungeons of the inquisition, he must obviate--or remove--suspicion by protesting, both by word and action, his devotion to the catholic church, and his hatred of heresy. could he stoop to this? gradually, and more and more, as each day's emergency made it more and more necessary, he _did_ stoop to it. he told himself it was all for his brother's sake. and though such a line of conduct was intensely repugnant to his character, it was not contrary to his principles. to conceal an opinion is one thing, to deny a friend quite another. and while carlos had found a friend, juan had only embraced an opinion. he himself would have said that he had found truth--had devoted himself to the cause of freedom. but where were truth and freedom now, with all the bright anticipations of their ultimate triumph which he had been wont to indulge? as far as his native land was concerned (and it must be owned that his native eye scarcely reached beyond "the spains"), a single day had blotted out his glowing visions for ever. almost at the same moment, as if by some secret preconcerted signal, the leading protestants in seville, in valladolid, all over the kingdom, had been arrested and thrown into prison. swiftly, silently, with the utmost order and regularity, had the whole thing been accomplished. every name that juan had heard carlos mention with admiration and sympathy was now the name of a helpless captive. the reformed church of spain existed no longer, or existed only in dungeons. in what quarter the storm had first arisen, that burst so suddenly upon the community of the faithful, don juan never knew. it is probable the holy office had long been silently watching its prey, waiting for the moment of action to arrive. in seville, it is said, a spy had been set upon some of losada's congregation, who revealed their meeting to the inquisitors. while in valladolid, the foul treachery of the wife of one of the protestants furnished the holy office with the means of bringing her husband and his friends to the stake. don juan, whose young heart had lately beat so high with hope, now bowed his head in despair. and despairing of freedom, he lost his confidence in truth also. in opinion he was still a decided lutheran. he accepted every doctrine of the reformed as against the roman catholic creed. but the hold he once had upon these doctrines as living realities was slackened. he did not doubt that justification by faith was a scriptural dogma, but he did not think it necessary to die for it. compared with the tremendous interest of the fate of carlos and the peril of beatriz, and amidst his desperate struggles to aid the one and shield the other, doctrinal questions grew pale and faint to him. nor had he yet learned to throw himself, in utter weakness, upon a strength greater than his own, and a love that knows no limits. he did not feel his weakness: he felt strong, in the strength of a brave heart struggling against cruel wrong; strong to resist, and, if it might be, to conquer his fate. at first he cherished a hope that his brother was not actually in the secret dungeons of the inquisition. for so great was the number of the captives, that the public gaols of the city and the convent prisons were full of them; and some had to be lodged even in private houses. as carlos had been one of the last arrested, there seemed reason to suppose that he might be amongst those thus accommodated; in which case it would be much easier both to communicate with him, and to alleviate his fate, than if he were within the gloomy walls of the triana; there might be, moreover, the possibility of forming some plan for his deliverance. but juan's diligent and persevering search resulted at last in the conviction that his brother was in the "santa casa" itself. this conviction sent a chill to his heart. he shuddered to think of his present suffering, whilst he feared the worst for the future, supposing that the inquisitors would take care to lodge in their own especial fortress those whom they esteemed the most heinous transgressors. he engaged a lodging in the triana suburb, which the river, spanned by a bridge of boats, separated from the city. there were several reasons for this choice of residence; but by far the greatest was, that those who lingered beneath the walls of the grim old castle could sometimes see, behind its grated windows, spectral faces raised to catch the few scanty gleams of daylight which fell to their lot. long weary hours did juan watch there, hoping to recognize the face he loved. but always in vain. when he went into the city, it was sometimes for other purposes than to visit doña beatriz. it was as often to seek the precincts of the magnificent cathedral, and to pace up and down that terrace whose massive truncated pillars, raised when the romans founded a heathen temple on the spot, had stood throughout the long ages of moslem domination. now the place was consecrated to christian worship, and yet it was put to no hallowed use. rich merchants, in many a varying garb, that told of different nations, trod the stately colonnade, and bought and sold and made bargains there. for in those days (strange as seems to us the irreverence of the so-called "ages of faith") that terrace was the royal exchange of seville, then a mercantile city of great importance. don juan alvarez diligently resorted thither, and held many a close and earnest conversation with a keen-eyed, hawk-nosed jew, whom he met there. isaac osorio, or more properly, isaac ben osorio, was a notorious money-lender, who had often "obliged" don manuel's sons, not unfairly requiring heavy interest to counter-balance the hazardous nature of his investments. callings branded as unlawful are apt to prove particularly gainful. the jew was willing to "oblige" don juan also, upon certain conditions. he was not by any means ignorant of the purpose for which his money was needed. of course he was himself a christian in name, for none other would have been permitted to live upon spanish ground. but by what wrongs, tortures, agonies worse than death, he and those like him had been forced to accept christian baptism, will never be known until christ comes again to judge the false church that has slandered him. will it be nothing in his sight that millions of the souls for whom he died have been driven to hate his name--that name so unutterably precious? osorio derived grim satisfaction from the thought that the christians were now imprisoning, torturing, burning each other. it reminded him of the grand old days in his people's history, when the lord of hosts was wont to stretch forth his mighty arm and trouble the armies of the aliens, turning every man's hand against his brother. let the gentiles bite and devour one another, the child of abraham could look upon their quarrels with calm indifference. but if he had any sympathy, it was for the weaker side. he was rather disposed to help a christian youth who was trying to save his brother from the same cruel fangs in which so many sons of israel had writhed and struggled. don juan, therefore, found him accommodating, and even lenient. from time to time he advanced to him considerable sums, first upon the jewels he brought with him from nuera, and then, alas! upon his patrimony itself. not without a keen pang did juan thus mortgage the inheritance of his fathers. but he began to realize the bitter truth that a flight from spain, and a new career in some foreign land, would eventually be the only course open to him--if indeed he escaped with life. nor would the armies of spain henceforth be more free to him than her soil. fortunately, the necessity for rejoining his regiment had not arisen. for the brief war in which he served was over now; and as the promised captaincy had not yet been assigned to him, he was at liberty for the present to remain at home. he largely bribed the head-gaoler of the inquisitorial prison, besides supplying him liberally with necessaries and comforts for his brother's use. gaspar benevidio bore the worst of characters, both for cruelty and avarice; still, juan had no resource but to trust implicitly to his honour, in the hope that at least some portion of what he gave would be allowed to reach the prisoner. but not a single gleam of information about him could be gained from benevidio, who, like all other servants of the inquisition, was bound by a solemn oath to reveal nothing that passed within its walls. he also bribed some of the attendants and satellites of the all-powerful inquisitor, munebrãga. it was his desire to obtain a personal interview with the great man himself, that he might have the opportunity of trying the intercession of don dinero, to whose advances he was known to be not altogether obdurate. for the purpose of soliciting an audience, he repaired one evening to the splendid gardens belonging to the triana, to await the inquisitor, who was expected shortly to return from a sail for pleasure on the guadalquivir. he was sick at heart of the gorgeous tropical plants that surrounded him, of the myrtle-blossoms that were showered on his path; of all that told of the hateful pomp and luxury in which the persecutor lived, while his victims pined unpitied in loathsome dungeons. yet neither by word, look, nor sign dared he betray the rage that was gnawing his heart. at length the shouts of the populace, who thronged the river's side, announced the approach of their idol; for such munebrãga was for the time. clad in costly silks and jewels, and surrounded by a brilliant little court, composed both of churchmen and laymen, the "lord inquisitor" stepped from his splendid purple-decked barge. don juan threw himself in his way, and modestly requested an audience. his bearing, though perfectly respectful, was certainly less obsequious than that to which munebrãga had been accustomed of late. so the minister of the holy office turned from him haughtily, though, as juan bitterly thought, "his father would have been proud to hold the stirrup for mine." "this is no fitting time to talk of business, señor," he said. "we are weary to-night, and need repose." at that moment a franciscan friar advanced from the group, and with his lowest bow and most reverent manner approached the inquisitor. "with the gracious permission of my very good lord, i shall address myself to the caballero, and report his errand to your sanctity. i have the honour of some acquaintance with his excellency's noble family." "as you please, fray," said the voice accustomed to speak the terrible words that doomed to the rack and the pulley, though no one would have suspected this from the bland, careless good-nature of its tones. "but see that you tarry not so as to lose your supper. howbeit, there is little need to caution you, or any other son of st. francis, against undue neglecting of the body." the son of st. francis made no answer, either because it was not worth while, or because those who take the crumbs from the rich man's table must ofttimes take his taunts therewith. he disengaged himself from the group, and turned towards juan a broad, good-humoured, not unintelligent face, which his former pupil recognized immediately. "fray sebastian gomez!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "and very much at the service of my noble señor don juan. will your excellency deign to bear me company for a little time? in yonder walk there are some rare flowers of rich colouring, which it were worth your while to observe." they turned into the path he indicated, while the lord inquisitor's silken train swept towards that half of the triana where godless luxury bore sway; the other half being consecrated to the twin demon, cruelty. "will it please your worship to look at these indian pinks?" said the friar. "you will not see that flower elsewhere in all the spains, save in the royal gardens. his imperial majesty brought it first from tunis." juan all but cursed the innocent flowers; but recollected in time that god made them, though they belonged to gonzales de munebrãga. "in heaven's name, what brings you here, fray sebastian?" he interrupted impatiently. "i thought to see only the black cowls of st. dominic about the--the minister of the holy office." "a little more softly, may i implore of your excellency? yonder casement is open.--pues,[ ] señor, i am here in the capacity of a guest. nothing more." [ ] well, or well then "every man to his taste," said juan, drily, as with a heedless foot he kicked off the beautiful scarlet flower of a rare cactus. "have a care, señor and your excellency; my lord is very proud of his cactus flowers." "then come with me to some spot of god's free earth where we can talk together, out of sight of him and his possessions." "nay, rest content, señor; and untire yourself in this fair arbour overlooking the river." "at least, god made the river," said juan, flinging himself, with a sigh of irritation and impatience, on the cushioned seat of the summer-house. fray sebastian seated himself also. "my lord," he began to explain, "has received me with all courtesy, and is good enough to desire my continual attendance. the fact is, señor, his reverence is a man of literary taste." juan allowed himself the solace of a quiet sneer. "oh, is he? very creditable to him, no doubt." "especially he is a great lover of the divine art of poesy." no _genuine_ love of the gentle art, whose great lesson is sympathy, did or could soften the inquisitor's hard heart. nor, had his wealth been doubled, could he have hired one real poet to sing his praise in strains worthy the ear of posterity. in an atmosphere so cold, the most ethereal spirit would have frozen. but it was in his power to buy flattery in rhyme, and it suited his inclination so to do. he liked the trick of rhyme, at once so easy and so charming in the sonorous castilian tongue--it was a pleasure of the ear which he keenly appreciated, as he did also those of the eye and the palate. "i addressed to him," fray sebastian continued with becoming modesty, "a little effort of my muse--really a mere trifle--on the suppression of heresy, comparing the lord inquisitor to michael the archangel, with the dragon beneath his feet. you understand, señor?" juan understood so well that it was with difficulty he refrained from flinging the unlucky rhymester into the river. but of late he had learned many a lesson in prudence. still, his words sounded almost fierce in their angry scorn. "i suppose he gave you in return--a good dinner." but fray sebastian would not take offence. he answered mildly, "he was pleased to express his approval of my humble effort, and to admit me into his noble household; where, except my poor exertions to amuse and untire him by my conversation may be accounted a service, i am of no service to him whatever." "so you are clad in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day," said juan, with contempt that he cared not to conceal. "as to purple and fine linen, señor, i am an unworthy son of st. francis; and it is well known to your excellency that by the rules of our order not even one scrap of holland---- but you are laughing at me, as you used in old times, señor don juan." "god knows, i have little heart to laugh. in those old times you speak of, fray, there was no great love between you and me; and no marvel, for i was a wild and idle lad. but i think you loved my gentle brother, don carlos!" "that i did, señor, as did every one. has any evil come upon him? st. francis forbid!" "worse evil than i care to name. he lies in yonder tower." "the blessed virgin have pity on us!" cried fray sebastian, crossing himself. "i thought you would have heard of his arrest," juan continued, sadly. "i, señor! never a breath. holy saints defend us! how could i, or any one, dream that a young gentleman of noblest race, well learned, and of truly pious disposition, would have had the ill luck to fall under so foul a suspicion? doubtless it is the work of some personal enemy. and--ah, woe is me! 'the clattering horse-shoe ever wants a nail'--here have i been naming heresy, 'talking of halters in the house of the hanged?'" "hold thy tongue about hanging," said juan, testily, "and listen to me, if thou canst." fray sebastian indicated, by a respectful gesture, his profound attention. "it has been whispered to me that the door of his reverence's heart may be unlocked by a golden key." fray sebastian assured him this was a foul slander; concluding a panegyric on the purity of the inquisitor's administration with the words, "you would forfeit his favour for ever by presuming so far as to offer a bribe." "no doubt," answered juan with a sneer, and a hard, worldly look in his face that of late was often seen there. "i should deserve to pay that penalty were i the fool to approach him with a bow, and, 'here is a purse of gold for your sanctity.' but 'one take is worth two i give you's,' and there is a way of saying 'take' to every man. and i ask you, for old kindness, to show me how to say it to his lordship." fray sebastian pondered. after an interval he said, with some hesitation, "may i venture to inquire, señor, what means you possess of clearing the character of your noble brother?" juan only answered by a sorrowful shake of the head. darker and darker grew the friar's sensual but good-natured face. "his excellent reputation, his brilliant success at college, his blameless life should tell in his favour," juan said at length. "have you nothing more direct? if not, i fear it is a bad business. but 'silence is called holy,' so i hold my peace. still, if indeed (which the saints forbid) he has fallen inadvertently into error, it is a comfort to reflect that there will be little difficulty in reclaiming him." juan made no reply. did he expect his brother to retract? did he _wish_ him to do it? these were questions he scarcely dared to ask himself. from any reply he could give to them he shrank in shuddering dread. "he was ever gentle and tractable," fray sebastian continued, "and ofttimes but too easy to persuade." juan rose, took up a stone, and threw it into the river. when the circles it made in the water had died away, he turned back to the friar. "but what can _i_ do for him?" he asked, with an undertone of helpless sadness, touching from the lips of one so strong. fray sebastian put his hand to his forehead, and looked as if he were composing another poem. "let me see, your excellency. there is my lord's nephew and pet page, don alonzo (where he has got the 'don' i know not, but don dinero makes many a noble); i dare say it would not hurt the donzelo's soft white hand to finger a purse of gold ducats, and those same ducats might help your brother's cause not a little." "manage the matter for me, and i will thank you heartily. gold, to any extent that will serve _him_, shall be forthcoming; and, my good friend, see that you spare it not." "ah, señor don juan, you were always generous." "my brother's life is at stake," said juan, softening a little. but the hard look returned as he added, "those who live in great men's houses have many expenses, fray. always remember that i am your friend, and that my ducats are very much at your service also." fray sebastian thanked him with his lowest bow. juan's look changed again; this time more rapidly. "if it were possible," he added, in low, hurried tones--"if you could only bring me the least word of tidings from him--even one word to say if he lives, if he is well, how he is entreated. three months it is now since he was taken, and i have heard no more than if they had carried him to his grave." "it is a difficult matter, a _very_ difficult matter that you ask of me. were i a son of st. dominic, i might indeed accomplish somewhat. for the black cowls are everything now. still, i will do all i can, señor." "i trust you, fray. if under cover of seeking his conversion, of anything, you could but see him." "impossible, señor--utterly impossible." "why? they sometimes send friars to reason with the--the prisoners." "always dominicans or jesuits--men well-known and trusted by the board of the inquisition. however, señor, nothing that a man may do shall be wanting on my part. will not that content your excellency?" "_content_ me? well, as far as you are concerned, yes. but, in truth, i am haunted day and night by one horrible dread. what if--if they should _torture_ him? my gentle brother, frail in mind and body, tender and sensitive as a woman! terror and pain would drive him mad." the last words were a quick broken whisper. but outward expressions of emotion with don juan were always speedily repressed. recovering apparent calmness, he stretched out his hand to fray sebastian, saying, with a faint smile, "i have kept you too long from my lord's supper-table--pardon me." "your excellency's condescension in conversing with me deserves my profound gratitude," replied the monk, in true castilian fashion. his residence at the inquisitor's court had certainly improved his manners. don juan gave him his address, and it was agreed that he should call on him in a few days. fray sebastian then offered to bring him on his way through the garden and court of that part of the triana which formed the inquisitor's residence. but juan declined the favour. he could not answer for himself when brought face to face with the impious pomp and luxury of the persecutor of the saints. he feared that, by some wild word or deed, he might imperil the cause he had at heart. so he hailed a waterman who was guiding his little boat down the tranquil stream in the waning light. the boat was soon brought to the place where the inquisitor had landed from his barge; and juan, after shaking the dust from his feet, both literally and metaphorically, sprang into it. the popular ideal of a persecutor is very far from the truth. at the word there rises before most minds the vision of a lean, pale-faced, fierce-eyed monk, whose frame is worn with fasting, and his scourge red with his own blood. he is a fanatic--pitiless, passionate, narrow-minded, perhaps half insane--but penetrated to the very core of his being with intense zeal for his church's interest, and prepared in her service both to inflict and to endure all things. very unlike this ideal were _most_ of the great persecutors who carried out the behests of antichrist. they were generally able men. but they were pre-eminently men wise in their generation, men _of_ their generation, men who "loved this present world." they gave the church the service of strong hand and skilful brain that she needed; and she gave _them_, in return, "gold, and silver, and precious stones, and pearls; and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet; and all sweet wood; and all manner of vessels of ivory, and all manner of vessels of most precious wood, and of brass, and of iron, and marble; and cinnamon, and odours, and ointment, and frankincense; and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat; and beasts, and sheep, and horses and chariots, and slaves and souls of men." it was for these things, not for abstract ideas, not for high places in heaven, that they tortured and murdered the saints of god. whilst the cry of the oppressed reached the ears of the most high, those who were "wearing them out" lived in unhallowed luxury, in degrading sensuality. gonzales de munebrãga was a good specimen of the class to which he belonged--he was no exceptional case. nor was fray sebastian anything but an ordinary character. he was amiable, good-natured, free from gross vices--what is usually called "well disposed." but he "loved wine and oil," and to obtain what he loved he was willing to become the servant and the flatterer of worse men than himself, at the terrible risk of sinking to their level. with all the force of his strong nature, don juan alvarez loathed munebrãga, and scorned fray sebastian. gradually a strange alteration appeared to come over the little book he constantly studied--his brother's spanish testament. the words of promise, and hope, and comfort, in which he used to delight, seemed to be blotted from its pages; while ever more and more those pages were filled with fearful threatenings and denunciations of doom--against hypocritical scribes and pharisees, false teachers and wicked high priests--against great babylon, the mother of abominations. the peace-breathing, "father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," grew fainter and more faint, until at last it faded completely from his memory; while there stood out before him night and day, in characters of fire, "serpents, generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" xxx. the captive. "ay, but for _me_--my name called--drawn like a conscript's lot from the lap's black yawn he has dipped into on the battle dawn. bid out of life by a nod, a glance, stumbling, mute mazed, at nature's chance with a rapid finger circling round, fixed to the first poor inch of ground to fight from, where his foot was found, whose ear but a moment since was free to the wide camp's hum and gossipry-- summoned, a solitary man, to end his life where his life began, from the safe glad rear to the awful van." r. browning. on the night of his arrest, when don carlos alvarez was left alone in his dungeon, he stood motionless as one in a dream. at length he raised his head, and began to look around him. a lamp had been left with him; and its light illumined a cell ten feet square, with a vaulted roof. through a narrow grating, too high for him to reach, one or two stars were shining; but these he saw not. he only saw the inner door sheathed with iron; the mat of rushes on which he was to sleep; the stool that was to be his seat; the two earthen pitchers of water that completed his scanty furniture. from the first moment these things looked strangely familiar to him. he threw himself on the mat to think and pray. he comprehended his situation perfectly. it seemed as if he had been all his life expecting this hour; as if he had been born for it, and led up to it gradually through all his previous experience. as yet he did not think that his fate was terrible; he only thought that it was inevitable--something that was to come upon him, and that in due course had come at last. it was his impression that he should always remain there, and never more see anything beyond that grated window and that iron door. there was a degree of unreality about this mood. for the past fortnight, or more, his mind had been strained to its utmost tension. suspense, more wearing even than sorrow, had held him on the rack. sleep had seldom visited his eyes; and when it came, it had been broken and fitful. now the worst had befallen him. suspense was over; certainty had come. this brought at first a kind of rest to the overtaxed mind and frame. he was as one who hears a sentence of death, but who is taken off the rack. no dread of the future could quite overpower the present unreasoning sense of relief. thus it happened that an hour afterwards he was sleeping the dreamless sleep of exhaustion. well for him if, instead of "death's twin-brother," the angel of death himself had been sent to open the prison doors and set the captive free! and yet, after all, _would_ it have been well for him? so utter was his exhaustion, that when food was placed in his cell the next morning, he only awaked for a moment, then slept again as soundly as before. not till some hours later did he finally shake off his slumber. he lay still for some time, examining with a strange kind of curiosity the little bolted aperture which was near the top of his door, and watching a solitary broken sunbeam which had struggled through the grating that served him for a window, and threw a gleam of light on the opposite wall. then, with a start, he asked himself, "_where am i?_" the answer brought an agony of fear, of horror, of bitter pain. "lost! lost! god have mercy on me! i am lost!" as one in intense bodily anguish, he writhed, moaned--ay, even cried aloud. no wonder. hope, love, life--alike in its noblest aims and its commonest joys--all were behind him. before him were the dreary dungeon days and nights--it might be months or years; the death of agony and shame; and, worst of all, the unutterable horrors of the torture-room, from which he shrank as any one of us would shrink to-day. slowly and at last came the large burning tears. but very few of them fell; for his anguish was as yet too fierce for many tears. all that day the storm raged on. when the alcayde brought his evening meal, he lay still, his face covered with his cloak. but as night drew on he rose, and paced his narrow cell with hasty, irregular steps, like those of a caged wild animal. how should he endure the horrible loneliness of the present, the maddening terror of all that was to come? and this life was to _last_. to last, until it should be succeeded by worse horrors and fiercer anguish. words of prayer died on his lips. or, even when he uttered them, it seemed as if god heard not--as if those thick walls and grated doors shut him out too. yet one thing was clear to him from the beginning. deeper than all other fears within him lay the fear of denying his lord. again and again did he repeat, "when called in question, i will at once confess all." for he knew that, according to a law recently enacted by the holy office, and sanctioned by the pope, no subsequent retraction could save a prisoner who had once confessed--he must die. and he desired finally and for ever to put it out of his own power to save his life and lose it. as every dreary morning dawned upon him, he thought that ere its sun set he might be called to confess his master's name before the solemn tribunal. at first he awaited the summons with a trembling heart. but as time passed on, the delay became more dreadful than the anticipated examination. at last he began to long for _any_ change that might break the monotony of his prison-life. the only person, with the exception of his gaoler, that ever entered his cell, was a member of the board of inquisitors, who was obliged by their rules to make a fortnightly inspection of the prisons. but the dominican monk to whom this duty was relegated merely asked the prisoner a few formal questions: such as, whether he was well, whether he received his appointed provision, whether his warder used him with civility. to these carlos always answered prudently that he had no complaint to make. at first he was wont to inquire, in his turn, when his case might be expected to come on. to this it would be answered, that there was no hurry about the matter. the lords inquisitors had much business on hand, and many more important cases than his to attend to; he must await their leisure and their pleasure. at length a kind of lethargy stole over him; though it was broken frequently by sharp bursts of anguish. he ceased to take note of time, ceased to make fruitless inquiries of his gaoler, who would never tell him anything. upon one occasion he asked this man for a breviary, since he sometimes found it difficult to recall even the gospel words that he knew so well. but he was answered in the set terms the inquisitors taught their officials, that the book he ought now to study was the book of his own heart, which he should examine diligently, in order to the confession and repentance of his sins. during the morning hours the outer door of his cell (there were two) was usually left open, in order to admit a little fresh air. at such times he often heard footsteps in the corridors, and doors opening and shutting. with a kind of sick yearning, not unmixed with hope, he longed that some visitant would enter his cell. but none ever came. some of the inquisitors were keen observers and good students of character. they had watched carlos narrowly before his arrest, and they had arrived at the conclusion that utter and prolonged solitude was the best remedy for his disease. such solitude has driven many a weary tortured soul to insanity. but that divine compassion which no dungeon walls or prison bars avail to shut out, saved carlos from such a fate. one morning he knew from the stir outside that some of his fellow-captives had received a visit. but the deep stillness that followed the dying away of footsteps in the corridor was broken by a most unwonted sound. a loud, clear, and even cheerful voice sang out,-- "vençidos van los frailes; vençidos van! corridos van los lobos; corridos van!" [there go the friars; there they run! there go the wolves, the wolves are done!][ ] [ ] everything related of juliano hernandez is strictly true. every nerve and fibre of the lonely captive's heart thrilled responsive to that strain. evidently the song was one of triumph. but from whose lips? who could dare to triumph in the abode of misery, the very seat of satan? carlos alvarez had heard that voice before. a striking peculiarity in the dialect rivetted this fact upon his mind. the words were neither the pure sonorous castilian that he spoke himself, nor the soft gliding sibilant andaluz that he heard in seville, nor yet the patois of the manchegan peasants around his mountain home. in such accents one, and one alone, had ever spoken in his hearing. and that was the man who said, "for the joy of bringing food to the perishing, water to the thirsty, light to those that sit in darkness, rest to the weary and heavy-laden, i have counted the cost, and i shall pay the price right willingly." whatever men had done to the body, it was evident that juliano hernandez was still unbroken in heart, strong in hope and courage. a fettered, tortured captive, he was yet enabled, not only to hold his own faith fast, but actually to minister to that of others. his rough rhyme intimated to his fellow-captives that "the wolves" of rome were leaving his cell, vanquished by the sword of the spirit. and that, as he overcame, so might they also. carlos heard, understood, and felt from that hour that he was not alone. moreover, the grace and strength so richly given to his fellow-sufferer seemed to bring christ nearer to himself. "surely god is in this place--even here," he said, "and i knew it not." and then, bowing his head, he wept--wept such tears as bring help and healing with them. up to this time he had held christ's hand indeed, else had he "utterly fainted." but he held it in the dark. he clung to him desperately, as if for mere life and reason. now the light began to dawn upon him. he began to see the face of him to whom he had been clinging. his good and gracious words--such words as, "let not your heart be troubled," "my peace i give unto you"--became again, as in old times, full of meaning, instinct with life. he "remembered the years of the right hand of the most high;" he thought of those days that now seemed so long ago, when, with such thrilling joy, he received the truth from juliano's book. and he knew that the same joy might be his even in that dreary prison, because the same god was above him, and the same lord was "rich unto all that call upon him." on the next occasion when juliano raised his brave song of victory, carlos had the courage to respond, by chanting in the vulgar tongue, "the lord hear thee in the day of trouble; the name of the god of jacob defend thee. send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen thee out of zion." but this brought him a visit from the alcayde, who commanded him to "forbear that noise." "i only chanted a versicle from one of the psalms," he explained. "no matter. prisoners are not permitted to disturb the santa casa," said gasper benevidio, as he quitted the cell. the "santa casa," or holy house, was the proper style and title of the prison of the holy inquisition. at first sight the name appears a hideous mockery. we seem to catch in it an echo of the laughter of fiends, as in that other kindred name, "the society of jesus." yet, just then, the triana was truly a holy house. precious in the sight of the lord were those who crowded its dismal cells. many a lonely captive wept and prayed and agonized there, who, though now forgotten on earth, shall one day shine with a brightness eclipsing kings and conquerors--"a star for ever and ever." xxxi. ministering angels. "thou wilt be near, and not forsake, to turn the bitter pool into a bright and breezy lake, the throbbing brow to cool; till, left awhile with thee alone, the wilful heart be fain to own that he, by whom our bright hours shone, our darkness best may rule." keble. the overpowering heat of an andalusian summer aggravated the physical sufferings of the captives. and so did the scanty and unwholesome provisions, which were all that reached them through the hands of the avaricious benevidio. but this last hardship was little felt by carlos. small as were the rations he received, they usually proved more than enough for him; indeed, the coarse food sometimes lay almost untasted in his cell. one morning, however, to his extreme surprise, something was pushed through the grating in the lower part of his inner door, the outer door being open, as was usual at that hour. the mysterious gift consisted of white bread and good meat, of which he partook with mingled astonishment and thankfulness. but the relief to the unvaried monotony of his life, and the occupation the little circumstance gave his thoughts, was much more to him than the welcome novelty of a wholesome meal. the act of charity was repeated often, indeed almost daily. sometimes bread and meat, sometimes fruit--the large luscious grapes or purple figs of that southern climate--were thus conveyed to him. endless were the speculations these gifts awakened in his mind. he longed to discover his benefactor, not only to express his gratitude, but to supplicate that the same favours might be extended to his fellow-sufferers, especially to juliano. moreover, would not one so kindly disposed be willing to give him what he longed for far more than meat or drink--some word of tidings from the world without, or from his dear imprisoned brethren? at first he suspected the under-gaoler, whose name was herrera. this man was far more gentle and compassionate than benevidio. carlos often thought he would have shown him some kindness, or at least have spoken to him, if he dared. but dire would have been the penalty even the slightest transgression of the prison rules would have entailed. carlos naturally feared to broach the matter, lest, if herrera really had nothing to do with it, the unknown benefactor might be betrayed. the same motive prevented his hazarding a question or exclamation at the time the little gifts were thrust in. how could he tell who might be within hearing? if it were safe to speak, surely the person outside would try the experiment. it was generally very early in the morning, at the hour when the outer door was first opened, that the gifts came. or, if delayed a little later, he would often notice something timid and even awkward in the way they were pushed through the grating, and the approaching and retreating footsteps, for which he used to listen so eagerly, would be quick and light, like those of a child. at last a day came, marked indeed with white in the dark chronicle of prison life. bread and meat were conveyed to him as usual; then there was a low knock upon the door. carlos, who was standing close to it, responded by an eager "_chien es?_" "a friend. kneel down, señor, and put your ear to the grating." the captive obeyed, and a woman's voice whispered, "do not lose heart, your worship. friends outside are thinking of you." "one friend is with me, even here," carlos answered. "but," he added, "i entreat of you to tell me your name, that i may know whom to thank for the daily kindnesses which lighten my captivity." "i am only a poor woman, señor, the alcayde's servant. and what i have brought you is your own, and but a small part of it." "my own! how?" "robbed from you by my master, who defrauds and spoils the poor prisoners even of their necessary food. and if any one dares to complain to the lords inquisitors, he throws him into the masmurra." "the--what?" "a deep, horrible cistern which he hath in his house." this was spoken in a still lower voice. carlos was not yet sufficiently naturalized to horrors to repress a shudder. he said, "then i fear it is at great risk to yourself that you show kindness to me." "it is for the dear lord's sake, senor." "then _you_--you too--love his name!" said carlos, tears of joy starting to his eyes. "_chiton_,[ ] señor! _chiton!_ but as far as a poor woman may, i _do_ love him," she added in a frightened whisper. "what i want now to tell you is, that the noble lord, your brother--" [ ] hush. "my brother!" cried carlos; "what of him? oh, tell me, for christ's dear sake!" "let your excellency speak lower. we may be overheard. i know he has seen my master once and again, and has given him much money to provide your worship with good food and other conveniences, which he, however, not having the fear of god before his eyes--" the rest of the sentence did not reach the ear of carlos; but he could easily guess its import. "that is little matter," he said. "but oh, kind friend, if i could send him a message, were it only one word." perhaps the wistful earnestness of his tone awakened latent mother instincts in the poor woman's heart. she knew that he was very young; that he had lain there for dreary months alone, away from the bright world into which he was just entering, and which was now shut to him for ever. "i will do all i can for your excellency," she said, in a tone that betrayed some emotion. "then," said carlos, "tell him it is well with me. 'the lord is my shepherd'--all that psalm, bid him read it. but, above all things, say unto him to leave this place--to fly to germany or england. for i fear, i fear--no, do not tell him _what_ i fear. only implore of him to go. you promise?" "i promise, young sir, to do all i can. god comfort him and you." "and god reward you, brave and kind friend. but one word more, if it may be without risk to you. tell me of my dear fellow-prisoners. especially of dr. cristobal losada, don juan ponce de leon, fray constantino, and juliano hernandez, called juliano el chico." "i do not know anything of fray constantino. i think he is not here. the others you name have--_suffered_." "not death!--surely not death!" said carlos, in terror. "there be worse things than death, señor," the poor woman answered. "even my master, whose heart is iron, is astonished at the fortitude of señor juliano. he fears nothing--seems to feel nothing. no tortures have wrung from him a word that could harm any one." "god sustain him! oh, my friend," carlos went on with passionate earnestness, "if by any deed of kindness, such as you have shown me, you could bring god's dear suffering servant so much comfort as a cup of cold water, truly your reward would be rich in heaven. for the day will come when that poor man will take his station in the court of the king of kings, and at the right hand of christ, in great glory and majesty." "i know it, señor. i have tried--" just then an approaching footstep made carlos start; but the poor woman said, "it is only the child, god bless her. but i must go, señor; for she comes to tell me her father has arisen, and is making ready to begin his daily rounds." "her father! does benevidio's own child help you to comfort his prisoners?" "even so, thank the good god. i am her nurse. but i must not linger another moment. adiõs, señor." "vaya con dios, good mother. and god repay your kindness, as he surely will." and surely he did repay it; but not on earth, unless the honour of being accounted worthy to suffer shame and stripes and cruel imprisonment for his sake be called a reward.[ ] [ ] the story of the gaoler's servant and his little daughter is historical. xxxii. the valley of the shadow of death. "and shall i fear the coward fear of standing all alone to testify of zion's king and the glory of his throne? my father, o my father, i am poor and frail and weak, let me not utter of my own, for idle words i speak; but give me grace to wrestle now, and prompt my faltering tongue, and name thy name upon my soul, and so shall i be strong." mrs. stuart menteith. many a weary hour did carlos shorten by chanting the psalms and hymns of the church in low voice for himself. at first he sang them loudly enough for his fellow-prisoners to hear; but the commands of benevidio, which were accompanied even by threats of personal violence, soon made him forbear. not a few kindly deeds and words of comfort came to him through the ministrations of the poor servant maria gonsalez, aided by the gaoler's little daughter. on the whole, he was growing accustomed to his prison life. it seemed as though it would last for ever; as though every other kind of life lay far away from him in the dim distance. there were slow and weary hours, more than he could count; there were bitter hours--of passionate regret, of dark foreboding, of unutterable fear. but there were also quiet hours, burdened by no special pain or sorrow; there were sometimes even happy hours, when christ seemed very near, and his consolations were not small with his prisoner. it was one of the quiet hours, when thoughts of the past, not full of the anguish of vain yearning, as they often were, but calm and even pleasant, were occupying his mind. he had been singing the te deum for himself; and thinking how sweetly the village choristers used to chant it at nuera; not in the time of father tomas, but in that of his predecessor, a gentle old man with a special taste for music, whom he and his brother, then little children, loved, but used to tease. he was so deeply engaged in feeling over again his poignant distress upon one particular occasion when juan had offended the aged priest, that all his present sorrows were forgotten for the moment, when he heard the large key grate harshly in the strong outer door of his cell. benevidio entered, bearing some articles of dress, which he ordered the prisoner to put on immediately. carlos obeyed in silence, though not without surprise, perhaps even a passing feeling of indignation. for the very form and fashion of the garments he was thus obliged to assume (a kind of jacket without sleeves, and long loose trowsers), meant to the castilian noble keen insult and degradation. "take off your shoes," said the alcayde. "prisoners always come before their reverences with uncovered head and feet. now follow me." it was, then, the summons to stand before his judges. a thrilling dread took possession of his soul. heedless of the alcayde's presence, he threw himself for one brief moment on his knees. then, though his cheek was pale, he could speak calmly. "i am ready," he said. he followed his conductor through several long and gloomy corridors. at length he ventured to ask, "whither are you leading me?" "_chiton!_" said benevidio, placing his finger on his lips. speech was not permitted there. at last they drew near an open door. the alcayde quickened his pace, entered first, made a very low reverence, then drew back again, and motioned carlos to go forward alone. he did so; and found himself in the presence of his judges--the board, or "table of the inquisition." he bowed, though rather from the habit of courtesy, than from any special respect to the tribunal, and stood silent. before any one addressed him, he had ample leisure for observation. the room was large, lofty, and surrounded by pillars, between which there were handsome hangings of gilt leather. at one end, the furthest from him, stood a great crucifix, larger than life. around the long table on the estrada six or seven persons were seated. of these, one alone was covered, he who sat nearest the door by which carlos had entered, and facing the crucifix. he knew that this was gonzales de munebrãga, and the thought that he had once pleaded earnestly for that man's life, helped to give him boldness in his presence. at munebrãga's right hand sat a stern and stately man, whom carlos, though he had never seen him before, knew, from his dress and the position he occupied, to be the prior of the dominican convent adjoining the triana. one or two of the subordinate members of the board he had met occasionally in other days, and he had then considered them very far his own inferiors, both in education and in social position. at length munebrãga, half turning, motioned him to approach the table. he did so, and a person who sat at the opposite end, and appeared by his dress to be a notary, made him lay his hand on a missal, and administered an oath to him. it bound him to speak the truth, and to keep everything secret which he might see or hear; and he took it without hesitation. a bench at the inquisitor's left hand was then pointed out to him, and he was desired to be seated. a member of the board, who bore the title of the promoter-fiscal, conducted the examination. after some merely formal questions, he asked him whether he knew the cause of his present imprisonment? carlos answered immediately, "i do." this was not the course usually taken by prisoners of the holy office. they commonly denied all knowledge of any offence that could have induced "their reverences" to order their arrest. with a slight elevation of the eyebrows, perhaps expressive of surprise, his examiner continued, gently enough, "are you then aware of having erred from the faith, and by word or deed offended your own soul, and the consciences of good christians? speak boldly, my son; for to those who acknowledge their faults the holy office is full of tenderness and mercy." "i have not erred, consciously, from the true faith, since i knew it." here the dominican prior interposed. "you can ask for an advocate," he said; "and as you are under twenty-five years of age, you can also claim the assistance of a curator.[ ] furthermore, you can request a copy of the deposition against you, in order to prepare your defence." [ ] guardian. "always supposing," said munebrãga himself, "that he formally denies the crime laid to his charge.--do you?" he asked, turning to the prisoner. "we understand you so to do," said the prior, looking earnestly at carlos. "you plead not guilty?" carlos rose from his seat, and advanced a step or two nearer to the table where sat the men who held his life in their hands. addressing himself chiefly to the prior, he said, "i know that by taking the course your reverence recommends to me, as i believe out of kindness, i may defer my fate for a little while. i may beat the air, fighting in the dark with witnesses whom you would refuse to name to me, still more to confront with me. or, i may make you wring out the truth from me slowly, drop by drop. but what would that avail me? neither for the truth, nor yet for any falsehood i might be base enough to utter, would you loose your hand from your prey. i prefer that straight road which is ever the shortest way. i stand before your reverences this day a professed lutheran, despairing of mercy from man, but full of confidence in the mercy of god." a movement of surprise ran around the board at these daring words. the prior turned away from the prisoner with a pained, disconcerted look; but only to meet a half-triumphant, half-reproachful glance from his superior, munebrãga. but munebrãga was not displeased; far from it. it did not grieve him that the prisoner, a mere youth, "was throwing himself into the fire." that was his own concern. he was saving "their reverences" a great deal of trouble. thanks to his hardihood, his folly, or his despair, a good piece of work was quickly and easily accomplished. for it was the business of the inquisitors first to convict; retractations were an after consideration. "thou art a bold heretic, and fit for the fire," he said. "we know how to deal with such." and he placed his hand on the bell that was to signal the termination of the interview. but the prior, recovering from his astonishment, once more interposed. "my lord and your reverence, be pleased to allow me a few minutes, in which i may set plainly before the prisoner both the wonted mercy and lenity of the holy office to the repentant, and the fatal consequences of obstinacy." munebrãga acquiesced by a nod, then leant back carelessly in his seat; this was not a part of the proceedings in which he felt much interest. no one could doubt the sincerity with which the prior warned carlos of the doom that awaited the impenitent heretic. the horrors of the death of fire, the deeper, darker horror of the fire that never dies, these were the theme of his discourse. if not actually eloquent, it had at least the earnestness of intense conviction. "but to the penitent," he added, and the hard face softened a little, "god is ever merciful, and his church is merciful too." carlos listened in silence, his eyes bent on the ground. but when the dominican concluded, he looked up again, glanced first at the great crucifix, then fixed his eyes steadily on the prior's face. "i cannot deny my lord," he said. "i am in your hands, and you can do with me as you will. but god is mightier than you." "enough!" said munebrãga, and he rang the hand-bell. after a very short delay, the alcayde reappeared, and led carlos back to his cell. as soon as he was gone, munebrãga turned to the prior. "my lord," he said, "your wonted penetration is at fault for once. is this the youth whom you assured us a few months of solitary confinement would render pliant as a reed and plastic as wax? whereas we find him as bold a heretic as losada, or d'arellano, or that imp of darkness, little juliano." "nay, my lord, i do not despair of him. far from it. he is much less firm than he seems. give him time, with a due mixture of kindness and severity, and, i trust in our lord and st. dominic, we will see him a hopeful penitent." "i am of your mind, reverend father," said the promoter-fiscal. "it is probable he confessed only to avoid the question. many of them fear it more than death." "you are right," answered munebrãga quickly. the notary looked up from his papers. "please your lordships," he said, "i think it is the _sangre azul_ that makes him so bold. he is alvarez de meñaya." "keep to thy quires and thine ink-horn, man of law," interposed munebrãga angrily. "thy part is to write down what wiser men say, not to prate thyself." it was well known that the inquisitor, far from boasting the _sangre azul_ himself, had not even what the spaniards call "good red blood" flowing in his veins; hence his irritation at the notary's speech. there is often a great apparent similarity in the effects of quite opposite causes. that which results from a degree of weakness of character may sometimes wear the aspect of transcendent courage. a bolder man than don carlos alvarez might, in his circumstances, have made a struggle for life. he might have fought over every point as it arose; have availed himself of every loophole for escape; have thrown upon his persecutors the onus of proving his crime. but such a course would not have been possible to carlos. as a running leap is far more easy than a standing one, so to sensitive temperaments it is easier to rush forward to meet pain or danger than to stand still and fight it off, knowing all the time that it must come at last. he would have been astonished had he guessed the impression made upon his examiners. to himself it seemed that he had confessed his lord in much weakness. still, he had confessed him. and shut out as he was from all ordinary "means of grace," the act of confession became a kind of sacrament to him. it was a token and an evidence of christ's presence with him, and christ's power working in him. he could say now, "in the day that i called upon thee thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul." and from that hour he seemed to live in greater nearness to christ, and more intimate communion with him, than he had ever done before. it was well that he had strong consolation, for his need was great. two other examinations followed after a short interval; and in both of these munebrãga took a far more active part than he had done in the first. the inquisitors were at that time extremely anxious to procure evidence upon which to condemn fray constantino, who up to this point had steadily resisted every effort they had made to induce him to criminate himself. they thought it probable that don carlos alvarez could assist them if he would, especially since there had been found amongst his papers a highly laudatory letter of recommendation from the late canon magistral. still, his assistance was needed even more in other matters. it is scarcely necessary to say that munebrãga, who forgot nothing, had not forgotten the mysterious appointment made with him, but never kept, by a cousin of the prisoner's, who was now stated to be hopelessly insane. what did that mean? was the story true; or were the family keeping back evidence which might compromise one or more of its remaining members? but carlos was expected to resolve a yet graver question; or, at least, one that touched him more nearly. his own arrest had been decreed in consequence of two depositions against him. first, a member of losada's congregation had named him as one of the habitual attendants; then a monk of san isodro had fatally compromised him under the torture. the monk's testimony was clear and explicit, and was afterwards confirmed by others. but the first witness had deposed that _two_ gentlemen of the name of meñaya had been wont to attend the conventicle. who was the second? hitherto this problem had baffled the inquisitors. don manuel alvarez and his sons were noted for orthodoxy; and the only other meñaya known to them was the prisoner's brother. but in his favour there was every presumption, both from his character as a gallant officer in the army of the most catholic king, and from the fact of his voluntary return to seville; where, instead of shunning, he seemed to court observation, by throwing himself continually in the inquisitor's way, and soliciting audience of him. still, of course, his guilt was possible. but, in the absence of anything suspicious in his conduct, some clearer evidence than the vague deposition alluded to was absolutely necessary, in order to warrant proceedings against him. according to the inquisitorial laws, what they styled "full half proof" of a crime must be obtained before ordering the arrest of the supposed criminal. and the key to all these perplexities had now to be wrung from the unwilling hands of carlos. this needed "half proof" could, and must, be furnished by him. "he _must_ speak out," said those stern, pitiless men, who held him in their hands. but here he was stronger than they. neither arts, persuasions, threats, nor promises, availed to unseal those pale, silent lips. would torture do it? he was told plainly, that unless he would answer every question put to him freely and distinctly, he must undergo its worst horrors. his heart throbbed wildly, then grew sick and faint. a dread far keener than the dread of death prompted one short sharp struggle against the inevitable. he said, "it is against your own law to torture a confessed criminal for information concerning others. for the law presumes that a man loves himself better than his neighbour; and, therefore, that he who has informed against himself would more readily inform against other heretics if he knew them." he was right. his early studies had enabled him to quote correctly one of the rules laid down by the highest authority for the regulation of the inquisitorial proceedings. but what mattered rules and canons to the members of a secret and irresponsible tribunal? munebrãga covered his momentary embarrassment with a sneer. "that rule was framed for delinquents of another sort," he said. "you lutheran heretics have the command, 'thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,' so deeply rooted in your hearts, that the very flesh must needs be torn from your bones ere you will inform against your brethren.[ ] i overrule your objection as frivolous." [ ] words actually used by this monster. and then a sentence, more dreaded than the terrible death-sentence itself, received the formal sanction of the board. once more alone in his cell, carlos flung himself on his knees, and pressing his burning brow against the cold damp stone, cried aloud in his anguish, "let this cup--only this--pass from me!" his was just the nature to which the thought of physical suffering is most appalling. keenly sensitive in mind and body, he shrank in unspeakable dread from what stronger characters might brave or defy. his vivid imagination intensified every pang he felt or feared. his mind was like a room hung round with mirrors, in which every terrible thing, reflected a hundred times, became a hundred terrors instead of one. what another would have endured once, he endured over and over again in agonized anticipation. at times the nervous horror grew absolutely insupportable. fearfulness and trembling took hold upon him. he felt ready to pray that god in his great mercy would take away his life, and let the bearer of the dreaded summons find him beyond all their malice. one thought haunted him like a demon, whispering words of despair. it had begun to haunt him from the hour when poor maria gonsalez told him she had seen his brother. what if they dragged that loved name from his lips! what if, in his weakness, he became juan's betrayer! once it had been in his heart to betray him from selfish love; perhaps in judgment for that sin he was now to betray him through sharp bodily anguish. even if his will were kept firm all through (which he scarcely dared to hope), would not reason give way, and wild words be wrung from his lips that would too surely ruin all? he tried to think of his saviour's death and passion; tried to pray for strength and patience to drink of _his_ cup. sometimes he prayed that prayer with strong crying and tears; sometimes with cold mute lips, too weary to cry any longer. if he was heard and answered, he knew it not then. days of suspense wore on. they were only less dreary than the nights, when sleep fled from his eyes, and horrible visions (which yet he knew were less horrible than the truth) rose in quick succession before his mind. one evening, seated on his bench in the twilight, he fell into an uneasy slumber. the dark dread that never left him, mingling with the sunny gleam of old memories, wove a vivid dream of nuera, of that summer morning when the first great conflict of his life found an ending in the strong resolve, "juan, brother! i will never wrong thee, so help me god!" the grating of the key in the door and the sudden flash of the lamp aroused him. he started to his feet at the alcayde's entrance. this time no change of dress was prescribed him. he knew his doom. he cried, but to no human ear. from the very depths of his being the prayer arose, "father, save--sustain me; _i am thine_!" xxxiii. on the other side. "happy are they who learn at last,-- though silent suffering teach the secret of enduring strength, and praise too deep for speech,-- peace that no pressure from without, no storm within can reach. "there is no death for me to fear, for christ my lord hath died: there is no curse in all my pain, for he was crucified; and it is fellowship with him that keeps me near his side." a.l. waring. when the light of the next morning streamed in through the narrow grating of his cell, carlos was there once more, lying on his bed of rushes. but was it indeed the next morning, or was it ten years, twenty years afterwards? without a painful effort of thought and memory, he himself could scarcely have told. that last night was like a great gulf, fixed between his present and all his past. the moment when he entered that torch-lit subterranean room seemed a sharp, black dividing line, sundering his life into two halves. and the latter half seemed longer than that which had gone before. nor could years of suffering have left a sadder impress on the young face, out of which the look of youth had passed, apparently for ever. brow and lips were pale; but two crimson spots, still telling of feverish pain, burned on the hollow cheeks, while the large lustrous eyes beamed with even unnatural brilliance. the poor woman, who was doing the work of god's bright angels in that dismal prison, came softly in. how she obtained entrance there carlos did not know, and was far too weak to ask, or even to wonder. but probably she was sent by benevidio, who knew that, in his present condition, some human help was indispensable to the prisoner. maria gonsalez was too well accustomed to scenes of horror to be over-much surprised or shocked by what she saw. silently, though with a heart full of compassion, she rendered the few little services in her power. she placed the broken frame in as easy a position as she could, and once and again she raised to the parched lips the "cup of cold water" so eagerly desired. he roused himself to murmur a word of thanks; then, as she prepared to leave him, his eyes followed her wistfully. "can i do anything more for you, señor?" she asked. "yes, mother. tell me--have you spoken to my brother?" "ay de mi! no, señor," said the poor woman, whose ability was not equal to her goodwill. "i have tried, god wot; but i could not get from my master the name of the place where he lives without making him suspect something, and never since have i had the good fortune to see his face." "i know you have done--what you could. my message does not matter now. not so much. still, best he should go. tell him so, when you find him. but, remember, tell him nought of this. you promise, mother? he must never know it--_never_!" she spoke a few words of pity and condolence. "it _was_ horrible!" he faltered, in faint, broken tones. "worst of all--the return to life. for i thought all was over, and that i should awake face to face with christ. but--i cannot speak of it." there was a long silence; then his eye kindled, and a look of joy--ay, even of triumph--flashed across the wasted, suffering face. "but _i have overcome_! no; not i. christ has overcome in me, the weakest of his members. now i am beyond it--on the other side." to the poor tortured captive there had been given a foretaste, strange and sweet, of what they feel who stand on the sea of glass, having the harps of god in their hands. men had done their worst--their very worst. he knew now all "the dread mystery of pain;" all that flesh could accomplish in its fiercest conflict with spirit. yet not one word that could injure any one he loved had been wrung from his lips. _all_ was over now. in that there was mercy--far more mercy than was shown to others. he had been permitted to drain the cup at a single draught. _now_ he could feel grateful to the physicians, who with truly kind cruelty (and not without some risk to themselves) had prevented, in his case, that fiendish device, "the suspension of the torture." even according to the execrable laws of the inquisition, he had won his right to die in peace. as time passed on, a blessed sense that he was now out of the hands of man, and in those of god alone, sank like balm upon his weary spirit. fear was gone; grief had passed away; even memory had almost ceased to give him a pang. for how could he long for the loved faces of former days, when day and night christ himself was near him? so strangely near, so intimately present, that he sometimes thought that if, through some wonderful relenting of his persecutors, juan were permitted to come and stand beside him, that loved brother would still seem further away, less real, than the unseen friend who was keeping watch by his couch. and even the bodily pain, that so seldom left him, was not hard to hear, for it was only the touch of his finger. he had passed into the clear air upon the mountain top, where the sun shines ever, and the storm winds cannot come. nothing hurt him; nothing disturbed him now. he had visitors; for what had really placed him beyond the reach of his enemies was, not unnaturally, supposed by them to have brought him into a fitting state to receive their exhortations. so inquisitors, monks, and friars--"persons of good learning and honest repute"--came in due course to his lonely cell, armed with persuasions and arguments, which were always weighted with threats and promises. their voices seemed to reach him faintly, from a great distance. into "the secret place of the lord," where he dwelt now, they could not enter. threats and promises fell powerless on his ear. what more could they do to him? as far as the mere facts of the case were concerned, this security may have been misplaced--nay, it _was_ misplaced; but it saved him from much suffering. and as for promises, had they thrown open the door of his dungeon and bid him go forth free, only that one intense longing to see his brother's face would have nerved him to make the effort. arguments he was glad to answer when permitted. it was a joy to speak for his lord, who had done, and was doing, such great things for him. as far as he could, he made use of those scripture words with which his memory was so richly stored. but more than once it happened that he was forced to take up the weapons which he had learned in the schools to use so skilfully. he tore sophisms to pieces with the dexterity of one who knew how they were constructed, and astonished the students of aristotle and thomas aquinas by vanquishing them on their own ground. reproach and insult he met with a fearless meekness that nothing could ruffle. why should he feel anger? rather did he pity those who stood without in the darkness, not seeing the face he saw, not hearing the voice he heard. usually, however, those who visited him yielded to the spell of his own sweet and perfect courtesy, and were kinder than they intended to be to the "professed impenitent heretic." his heart, now "at leisure from itself," was filled with sympathy for his imprisoned brethren and sisters. but, except to maria gonsalez, he dared not speak of them, lest the simplest remark or question might give rise to some new suspicion, or supply some link, hitherto missing, in the chain of evidence against them. but those who came to visit him sometimes gave him unasked intelligence about them. he could not, however, rely upon the truth of what reached him in this way. he was told that losada had retracted; he did not believe it. equally did he disbelieve a similar story of don juan ponce de leon, in which, unhappily, there was some truth. the constancy of that gentle, generous-hearted nobleman had yielded under torture and cruel imprisonment, and concessions had been wrung from him that dimmed the brightness of his martyr crown. on the other hand, the waverer, garçias arias, known as the "white doctor," had come forward with a hardihood truly marvellous, and not only confessed his own faith, but mocked and defied the inquisitors. of fray constantino, the most contradictory stories were told him. at one time he was assured that the great preacher had not only admitted his own guilt, but also, on the rack, had informed against his brethren. again he was told, and this time with truth, that the emperor's former chaplain and favourite had been spared the horrors of the question, but that the eagerly desired evidence against him had been obtained by accident. a lady of rank, one of his chief friends, was amongst the prisoners; and the inquisitors sent an alguazil to her house to demand possession of her jewels. her son, without waiting to ascertain the precise object of the officer's visit, surrendered to him in a panic some books which fray constantino had given his mother to conceal. amongst them was a volume in his own handwriting, containing the most explicit avowal of the principles of the reformation. on this being shown to the prisoner, he struggled no longer. "you have there a full and candid confession of my belief," he said. and he was now in one of the dark and loathsome subterranean cells of the triana. amongst those who most frequently visited carlos was the prior of the dominican convent. this man seemed to take a peculiar interest in the young heretic's fate. he was a good specimen of a character oftener talked about than met with in real life,--the genuine fanatic. when he threatened carlos, as he spared not to do, with the fire that is never quenched, at least he believed with all his heart that he was in danger of it. carlos soon perceived this, and accepting his honest intention to benefit him, came to regard him with a kind of friendliness. besides, the prior listened to what he said with more attention than did most of the others, and even in the prison of the inquisition a man likes to be listened to, especially when his opportunities of speaking are few and brief. many weeks passed by, and still carlos lay on his mat, in weakness and suffering of body, though in calm gladness of spirit. surgical and medical aid had been afforded him in due course. and it was not the fault of either surgeon or physician that he did not recover. they could stanch wounds and set dislocated joints, but when the springs of life were sapped, how could they renew them? how could they quicken the feeble pulse, or send back life and energy into the broken, exhausted frame? at this time carlos himself felt certain--even more certain than did his physician--that never again would his footsteps pass the limits of that narrow cell. once, indeed, there came to him a brief and fleeting pang of regret. it was in the spring-time; everywhere else so bright and fair, but making little change in those gloomy cells. maria gonsalez now sometimes obtained access to him, partly through benevidio's increased inattention to all his duties, partly because, any attempt at escape on the part of the captive being obviously out of the question, he was somewhat less jealously watched. and more than once the gaoler's little daughter stole in timidly beside her nurse, bearing some trifling gift for the sick prisoner. to carlos these visits came like sunbeams; and in a very short time he succeeded in establishing quite an intimate friendship with the child. one morning she entered his cell with maria, carrying a basket, from which she produced, with shy pleasure, a few golden oranges. "look, señor," she said, "they are good to eat now, for the blossoms are out.[ ] i gathered some to show you;" and filling both her hands with the luscious wealth of the orange flowers, she flung them carelessly down on the mat beside him. in her eyes they were of no value compared with the fruit. [ ] the people of seville do not think the oranges fit to eat until the new blossoms come out in spring. with carlos it was far otherwise. the rich perfume that filled the cell filled his heart also with sweet sad dreams, which lasted long after his kindly visitors had left him. the orange-trees had just been in flower last spring when all god's free earth and sky were shut out from his sight for ever. only a year ago! what a long, long year it seemed! and only one year further back he was walking in the orange gardens with doña beatriz, in all the delicious intoxication of his first and last dream of youthful love. "better here than there, better now than then," he murmured, though the tears gathered in his eyes. "but oh, for one hour of the old free life, one look at orange-trees in flower, or blue skies, or the grassy slopes and cork-trees of nuera! or"--and more painfully intense the yearning grew--"one familiar face, belonging to the past, to show me it was not all a dream, as i am sometimes tempted to think it. thine, ruy, if it might be--o ruy, ruy!--but, thank god, i have not betrayed thee!" in the afternoon of that day visitors were announced. carlos was not surprised to see the stern narrow face and white hair of the dominican prior. but he was a little surprised to observe that the person who followed him wore the gray cowl of st. francis. the prior merely bestowed the customary salutation upon him, and then, stepping aside, allowed his companion to approach. but as soon as carlos saw his face, he raised himself eagerly, and stretching out both his hands, grasped those of the franciscan. "dear fray sebastian!" he cried; "my good, kind tutor!" "my lord the prior has been graciously pleased to allow me to visit your excellency." "it is truly kind of you, my lord. i thank you heartily," said carlos, frankly and promptly turning towards the dominican, who looked at him with somewhat the air of one who is trying to be stern with a child. "i have ventured to allow you this indulgence," he said, "in the hope that the counsels of one whom you hold in honour may lead you to repentance." carlos turned once more to fray sebastian, whose hand he still held. "it is a great joy to see you," he said. "only to-day i had been longing for a familiar face. and you are changed never a whit since you used to teach me my humanities. how have you come hither? where have you been all these years?" poor fray sebastian vainly tried to frame an answer to these simple questions. he had come to that prison straight from munebrãga's splendid patio, where, amidst the gleam of azulejos and of many-coloured marbles, the scent of rare exotics and the music of rippling fountains, he had partaken of a sumptuous mid-day repast. in this dark foul dungeon there was nothing to please the senses, not even god's free air and light. everything on which his eye rested was coarse, painful, loathsome. by the prisoner's side lay the remains of a meal, in great contrast to his. and the sleeve, fallen back from the hand that held his own, showed deep scars on the wrist. he knew whence they were. yet the face that was looking in his, with kindling eyes, and a smile on the parted lips, might have been the face of the boy carlos, when he praised him for a successful task, only for the pain in it, and, far deeper than pain, a look of assured peace that boyhood could scarcely know. repressing a choking sensation, he faltered, "señor don carlos, it grieves me to the heart to see you here." "do not grieve for me, dear fray sebastian, for i tell you truly, i have never known such happy hours as since i came here. at first, indeed, i suffered; there was storm and darkness. but then"--here for a moment his voice failed, and his flushed cheek and quivering lip betrayed the anguish a too hasty movement cost the broken frame. but, recovering himself quickly, he went on: "then he arose and rebuked the wind and the sea; and there was a great calm. that calm lasts still. and oftentimes this narrow room seems to me the house of god, the very gate of heaven. moreover," he added, with a smile of strange brightness, "there is heaven itself beyond." "but, señor and your excellency, consider the disgrace and sorrow of your noble family--that is, i mean"--here the speaker paused in perplexity, and met the keen eye of the prior, fixed somewhat scornfully, as he thought, upon him. he was quite conscious that the dominican was thinking him incapable, and incompetent to the task he had so earnestly solicited. he had sedulously prepared himself for this important interview, had gone through it in imagination beforehand, laying up in his memory several convincing and most pertinent exhortations, which could not fail to benefit his old pupil. but these were of no avail now; in fact, they all vanished from his recollection. he had just begun something rather vague and incoherent about holy church, when the prior broke in. "honoured brother," he said, addressing with scrupulous politeness the member of a rival fraternity, "the prisoner may be more willing to listen to your pious exhortations, and you may have more freedom in addressing him, if you are left for a brief space alone together. therefore, though it is scarcely regular, i will visit a prisoner in a neighbouring apartment, and return hither for you in due time." fray sebastian thanked him, and he withdrew, saying as he did so, "it is not necessary for me to remind my reverend brother that conversation upon worldly matters is strictly forbidden in the holy house." whether the prior visited the other prisoner or no, it is not for us to inquire; but if he did, his visit was a short one; for it is certain that for some time he paced the gloomy corridor with troubled footsteps. he was thinking of a woman's face, a fair young face, to which that of don carlos alvarez bore a startling likeness. "too harsh, needlessly harsh," he murmured; "for, after all, _she_ was no heretic." but which of us is always in the right? ave maria sanctissima, ora pro me! but if i can, i would fain make some reparation--to _him_. if ever there was a true and sincere penitent, he is one." after a little further delay, he summoned fray sebastian by a peremptory knock at the inner door, the outer one of course remaining open. the franciscan came, his broad, good-humoured face bathed in tears, which he scarcely made an effort to conceal. the prior glanced at him for a moment, then signed to herrera, who was waiting in the gallery, to come and make the door fast. they walked on together in silence, until at length fray sebastian said, in a trembling voice, "my lord, you are very powerful here; can _you_ do nothing for him?" "i _have_ done much. at my intercession he had nine months of solitude, in which to recollect himself and ponder his situation, ere he was called on to make answer at all. judge my amazement when, instead of entering upon his defence, or calling witnesses to his character, he at once confessed all. judge my greater amazement at his continued obstinacy since. when a man has broken a giant oak in two, he may feel some surprise at being battled by a sapling." "he will not relent," said fray sebastian, hardly restraining his sobs. "he will die." "i see one chance to save him," returned the prior; "but it is a hazardous experiment. the consent of the supreme council is necessary, as well as that of my lord vice-inquisitor, and neither may be very easy to obtain." "to save his body or his soul?" fray sebastian asked anxiously. "both, if it succeeds. but i can say no more," he added rather haughtily; "for my plan is bound up with a secret, of which few living men, save myself, are in possession." xxxiv. fray sebastian's trouble. "now, with fainting frame, with soul just lingering on the flight begun, to bind for thee its last dim thoughts in one, i bless thee. peace be on thy noble head, years of bright fame, when i am with the dead! i bid this prayer survive me, and retain its power again to bless thee, and again. thou hast been gathered into my dark fate too much; too long for my sake desolate hath been thine exiled youth; but now take back from dying hands thy freedom." hemans. it was late in august. all day long the sky had been molten fire, and the earth brass. every one had dozed away the sultry noontide hours in the coolest recesses of dwellings made to exclude heat, as ours to exclude cold. but when at last the sun sank in flame beneath the horizon, people began to creep out languidly to woo the refreshment of the evening breeze. the beautiful gardens of the triana were still deserted, save by two persons. one of these, a young lad--we beg pardon, a young gentleman--of fifteen or sixteen, sat, or rather reclined, by the river-side, eating slices from an enormous melon, which he cut with a small silver-hilted dagger. a plumed cap, and a gay velvet jerkin lined with satin, had been thrown aside for coolness sake, and lay near him on the ground; so that his present dress consisted merely of a mass of the finest white holland, delicately starched and frilled, velvet hosen, long silk stockings, and fashionable square-toed shoes. curls of scented hair were thrown back from a face beautiful as that of a girl, but bold and insolent in its expression as that of a spoiled and mischievous boy. the other person was seated in the arbour mentioned once before, with a book in his hand, of which, however, he did not in the course of an hour turn over a single leaf. a look of chronic discontent and dejection had replaced the good-humoured smiles of fray sebastian gomez. everything was wrong with the poor franciscan now. even the delicacies of his patron's table ceased to please him; and he, in his turn, was fast ceasing to please his patron. how could it be otherwise, when he had lost not only his happy art of indirect ingenious flattery, but his power to be commonly agreeable or amusing? no more poems--not so much as the briefest sonnet--on the suppression of heresy were to be had from him; and he was fast becoming incapable of turning a jest or telling a story. it is said that idiots often manifest peculiar pain and terror at the sound of music, because it awakens within them faint stirrings of that higher life from which god's mysterious dispensation has shut them out. and it is true that the first stirrings of higher life usually come to all of us with pain and terror. moreover, if we do not crush them out, but cherish and foster them, they are very apt to take away the brightness and pleasantness of the old lower life altogether, and to make it seem worthless and distasteful. a new and higher life had begun for fray sebastian. it was not his conscience that was quickened, only his heart. hitherto he had chiefly cared for himself. he was a good-natured man, in the ordinary acceptation of the term; yet no sympathy for others had ever spoiled his appetite or hindered his digestion. but for the past three months he had been feeling as he had not felt since he clung weeping to the mother who left him in the parlour of the franciscan convent--a child of eight years old. the patient suffering face of the young prisoner in the triana had laid upon him a spell that he could not break. to say that he would have done anything in his power to save don carlos, is to say little. willingly would he have lived for a month on black bread and brackish water, if that could have even mitigated his fate. but the very intensity of his desire to help him was fast making him incapable of rendering him the smallest service. munebrãga's flatterer and favourite might possibly, by dint of the utmost self-possession and the most adroit management, have accomplished some little good. but fray sebastian was now consciously forfeiting even the miserable fragment of power that had once been his. he thought himself like the salt that had lost its savour, and was fit neither for the land nor yet for the dunghill. absorbed in his mournful reflections, he continued unconscious of the presence of such an important personage as don alonzo de munebrãga, the lord vice-inquisitor's favourite page. at length, however, he was made aware of the fact by a loud angry shout, "off with you, varlets, scum of the people! how dare you put your accursed fishing-smack to shore in my lord's garden, and under his very eyes?" fray sebastian looked up, and saw no fishing-boat, but a decent covered barge, from which, in spite of the page's remonstrance, two persons were landing: an elderly female clad in deep mourning, and her attendant, apparently a tradesman's apprentice, or serving-man. fray sebastian knew well how many distracted petitioners daily sought access to munebrãga, to plead (alas, how vainly!) for the lives of parents, husbands, sons, or daughters. this was doubtless one of them. he heard her plead, "for the love of heaven, dear young gentleman, hinder me not. have you a mother? my only son lies--" "out upon thee, woman!" interrupted the page; "and the foul fiend take thee and thy only son together." "hush, don alonzo!" fray sebastian interposed, coming forward towards the spot; and perhaps for the first time in his life there was something like dignity in his tone and manner. "you must be aware, señora," he said, turning to the woman, "that the right of using this landing-place is restricted to my lord's household. you will be admitted at the gate of the triana, if you present yourself at a proper hour." "alas! good father, once and again have i sought admission to my lord's presence. i am the unhappy mother of luis d'abrego, he who used to paint and illuminate the church missals so beautifully. more than a year agone they tore him from me, and carried him away to yonder tower, and since then, so help me the good god, never a word of him have i heard. whether he is living or dead, this day i know not." "oh, a lutheran dog! serve him right," cried the page. "i hope they have put him on the pulley." fray sebastian turned suddenly, and dealt the lad a stinging blow on the side of his face. to the latest hour of his life this act of passion remained incomprehensible to himself. he could only ascribe it to the direct agency of the evil one. "i was tempted by the devil," he would say with a sigh, "vade retro me, satana." crimson to the roots of his perfumed hair, the boy sought his dagger. "vile caitiff! beggarly trencher-scraping franciscan!" he cried, "you shall repent of this." but apparently changing his mind the next moment, he allowed the dagger to drop from his hand, and snatching up his jerkin, ran at full speed towards the house. fray sebastian crossed himself, and gazed after him bewildered; his unwonted passion dying as suddenly as it had flamed up, and giving place to fear. meanwhile the mother of abrego, to whom it did not occur that the buffet bestowed on the page could have any serious consequences, resumed her pleadings. "your reverence seems to have a heart that can feel for the unhappy," she said. "for heaven's sake refuse not the prayer of the most unhappy woman in the world. only let me see his lordship--let me throw myself at his feet and tell him the whole truth. my poor lad had nothing at all to do with the lutherans; he was a good, true christian, and an old one, like all his family." "nay, nay, my good woman; i fear i can do nothing to help you. and i entreat of you to leave this place, else some of my lord's household are sure to come and compel you. ay, there they are." it was true enough. don alonzo, as he ran through the porch, shouted to the numerous idle attendants who were lounging about, and some of them immediately rushed out into the garden. in justice to fray sebastian, it must be recorded, that before he consulted for his personal safety, he led the poor woman back to the barge, and saw her depart in it. then he made good his own retreat, going straight to the lodging of don juan alvarez. he found juan lying asleep on a settle. the day was hot; he had nothing to do; and, moreover, the fiery energy of his southern blood was dashed by the southern taint of occasional torpor. starting up suddenly, and seeing fray sebastian standing before him with a look of terror, he asked in alarm, "any tidings, fray? speak--tell me quickly." "none, señor don juan. but i must leave this place at once." and the friar briefly narrated the scene that had just taken place, adding mournfully, "ay de mi! i cannot tell what came over me--_me_, the mildest tempered man in all the spains!" "and what of all that?" asked juan rather contemptuously. "i see nothing to regret, save that you did not give the insolent lad what he deserved, a sound beating." "but, señor don juan, you don't understand," gasped the poor friar. "i must fly immediately. if i stay here over to-night i shall find myself before the morning--_there_." and with a significant gesture he pointed to the grim fortress that loomed above them. "nonsense. they cannot suspect a man of heresy, even _de levi_,[ ] for boxing the ear of an impudent serving-lad." [ ] lightly. "ay, and can they not, your worship? do you not know that the gardener of the triana has lain for many a weary month in one of those dismal cells; and all for the grave offence of snatching a reed out of the hand of one of my lord's lackeys so roughly as to make it bleed?"[ ] [ ] a fact. "truly? now are things come to a strange pass in our free and royal land of spain! a beggarly upstart, such as this munebrãga, who could not, to save himself from the rack, tell you the name of his own great-grandfather, drags the sons and brothers--ay, and god help us! the wives and daughter--of our knights and nobles to the dungeon and the stake before our eyes. and it is not enough for him to set his own heel on our necks. his minions--his very grooms and pages--must lord it over us, and woe to him who dares to chastise their insolence. nathless, i would feel it a comfort to make every bone in that urchin's body ache soundly. i have a mind--but this is folly. i believe you are right, fray. you should go." "moreover," said the friar mournfully, "i am doing no good here." "no one can do good now," returned juan, in a tone of deep dejection. "and to-day the last blow has fallen. the poor woman who showed him kindness, and sometimes told us how he fared, is herself a prisoner." "what! she has been discovered?" "even so: and with those fiends mercy is the greatest of all crimes. the child met me to-day (whether by accident or design, i know not), and told me, weeping bitterly." "god help her!" "some would gladly endure her punishment if they might commit her crime," said don juan. there was a pause; then he resumed, "i had been about to ask you to apply once more to the prior." fray sebastian shook his head. "that were of no use," he said; "for it is certain that my lord the vice-inquisitor and the prior have had a misunderstanding about the matter. and the prior, so far from obtaining permission to deal with him as he desired, is not even allowed to see him now." "and yourself?--whither do you mean to go?" asked juan, rather abruptly. "in sooth, i know not, señor. i have had no time to think. but go i must." "i will tell you what to do. go to nuera. there for the present you will be safe. and if any man inquire your business, you have a fair and ready answer. _i_ send you to look after my affairs. stay; i will write by you to dolores. poor, true-hearted dolores!" don juan seemed to fall into a reverie, so long did he sit motionless, his face shaded by his hand. his mournful air, his unwonted listlessness, his attenuated frame--all struck fray sebastian painfully. after musing a while in silence, he said at last, very suddenly, "señor don juan!" juan looked up. "have you ever thought since on the message _he_ sent you by me?" don juan looked as though that question were worse than needless. was not every word of his brother's message burned into his heart? this it was: "my ruy, thou hast done all for me that the best of brothers could. leave me now to god, unto whom i am going quickly, and in peace. quit the country as soon as thou canst; and god's best blessings surround thy path and guard thee evermore." one fact carlos had most earnestly entreated fray sebastian to withhold from his brother. juan must never know that he had endured the horrors of the question. the monk would have promised almost anything that could bring a glow of pleasure to that pale, patient face. and he had kept his promise, though at the expense of a few falsehoods, that did not greatly embarrass his conscience. he had conveyed the impression to don juan that it was merely from the effects of his long and cruel imprisonment that his brother was sinking into the only refuge that remained to him--a quiet grave. after a pause, he resumed, looking earnestly at juan--"_he_ wished you to go." "do you not know that next month they say there will be--_an auto_?" "yes; but it is not likely--" they gazed at each other in silence, neither saying _what_ was not likely. "any horror is _possible_," said juan at last. "but no more of this. until after the auto, with its chances of _some_ termination to this dreadful suspense, i stir not from seville. now, we must think for you. i know where to find a boat, the owner of which will take you some miles on your way up the river to-night. then you can hire a horse." fray sebastian groaned. neither the journey itself, its cause, nor its manner were anything but disagreeable to the poor friar. but there was no help for him. juan gave him some further directions about his way; then set food and wine before him. "eat and drink," he said. "meanwhile i will secure the boat. when i return, i can write to dolores." all was done as he planned; and ere the morning broke, fray sebastian was far on his way to nuera, with the letter to dolores stitched into the lining of his doublet. xxxv. the eve of the auto. "it is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth he sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him. he putteth his mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope." lamentations iii, - . on the st of september , all seville wore a festive appearance. the shops were closed, and the streets were filled with idle loiterers in their gay holiday apparel. for it was the eve of the great auto, and the preliminary ceremonies were going forward amidst the admiration of gazing thousands. two stately scaffolds, in the form of an amphitheatre, had been erected in the great square of the city, then called the square of st. francis; and thither, when the work was completed, flags and crosses were borne in solemn procession, with music and singing. but a still more significant ceremonial was enacted in another place. outside the walls, on the prado san sebastian, stood the ghastly quemadero--the great altar upon which, for generations, men had offered human sacrifices to the god of peace and love. thither came long files of barefooted friars, carrying bushes and faggots, which they laid in order on the place of death, while, in sweet yet solemn tones, they chanted the "miserere" and "de profundis." very close together on those festive days were "strong light and deep shadow." but our way leads us, for the present, into the light. turning away from the square of st. francis, and the prado san sebastian, we enter a cool upper room in the stately mansion of don garçia ramirez. there, in the midst of gold and gems, and of silk and lace, doña inez is standing, busily engaged in the task of selecting the fairest treasures of her wardrobe to grace the grand festival of the following day. doña beatriz de lavella, and the young waiting-woman who had been employed in the vain though generous effort to save don carlos, are both aiding her in the choice. "please your ladyship," said the girl, "i should recommend rose colour for the basquina. then, with those beautiful pearls, my lord's late gift, my lady will be as fine as a duchess; of whom, i hear, many will be there.--but what will señora doña beatriz please to wear?" "i do not intend to go, juanita," said doña beatriz, with a little embarrassment. "not intend to go!" cried the girl, crossing herself in surprise. "not go to see the grandest sight there has been in seville for many a year! worth a hundred bull-feasts! ay de mi! what a pity!" "juanita," interposed her mistress, "i think i hear the señorita's voice in the garden. it is far too hot for her to be out of doors. oblige me by bringing her in at once." as soon as the attendant was gone, doña inez turned to her cousin. "it is really most unreasonable of don juan," she said, "to keep you shut up here, whilst all seville is making holiday." "i am glad--i have no heart to go forth," said doña beatriz, with a quivering lip. "nor have i too much, for that matter. my poor brother is so weak and ill to-day, it grieves me to the heart. moreover, he is still so thoughtless about his poor soul. that is the worst of all. i never cease praying our lady to bring him to a better mind. if he would only consent to see a priest; but he was ever obstinate. and if i urge the point too strongly, he will think i suppose him dying." "i thought his health had improved since you had him brought over here." "certainly he is happier here than he was in his father's house. but of late he seems to me to be sinking, and that quickly. and now, the auto--" "what of that?" asked doña beatriz, with a quick look, half suspicious and half frightened. doña inez closed the door carefully, and drew nearer to her cousin. "they say _she_ will be amongst the relaxed,"[ ] she whispered. [ ] those delivered over to the secular arm--that is, to death. "does he know it?" asked beatriz. "i fear he suspects something; and what to tell him, or not to tell him, i know not--our lady help me! ay de mi! 'tis a horrible business from beginning to end. and the last thing--the arrest of the sister, doña juana! a duke's daughter--a noble's bridge. but--best be silent. 'con el re e la inquisicion, chiton! chiton!'"[ ] [ ] "with the king or the inquisition, hush! hush!" _a spanish proverb._ thus, only in a few hurried words, spoken with 'bated breath, did doña inez venture to allude to the darkest and saddest of the horrible tragedies in that time of horrors. nor shall we do more. "still, you know, amiga mia," she continued, "one must do like one's neighbours. it would be so ridiculous to look gloomy on a festival day. besides, every one would talk." "that is why i say i am glad don juan made it his prayer to me that i would not go. for not to look sorrowful, when thy father, don manuel, and my aunt, doña katarina, are both doing their utmost to drive me out of my senses, would be past my power." "have they been urging the suit of señor luis upon thee again? my poor beatriz, i am truly sorrow for thee," said doña inez, with genuine sympathy. "urging it again!" beatriz repeated with flashing eyes. "nay; but they have never ceased to urge it. and they spare not to say such wicked, cruel words. they tell me don juan is dishonoured by his brother's crime. dishonoured, forsooth! think of dishonour touching him! after the day of st. quentin, the duke of savoy was not of that mind, nor our catholic king himself. and they have the audacity to say that i can easily get absolved of my troth to him. absolved of a solemn promise made in the sight of god and of our lady, and all the holy saints! if _that_ be not heresy, as bad as--" "hush!" interrupted doña inez. "these are dangerous subjects. moreover, i hear some one knocking at the door." it proved to be a page bearing a message. "if it please doña beatriz de lavella, don juan alvarez de santillanos y meñaya kisses the señora's feet, and most humbly desires the favour of an audience." "i go," said beatriz. "request señor don juan to have the goodness to untire himself a little, and bring his excellency fruit and wine," added doña inez. "my cousin," she said, turning to beatriz as soon as the page left the room, "do you not know your cheeks are all aflame? don juan will think we have quarrelled. rest you here a minute, and let me bathe them for you with this water of orange-flowers." beatriz submitted, though reluctantly, to her cousin's good offices. while she performed them she whispered, "and be not so downcast, amiga mia. there is a remedy for most troubles. and as for yours, i see not why don juan himself should not save you out of them once for all." she added, in a whisper, two or three words that more than undid all the benefit which the cheeks of beatriz might otherwise have derived from the application of the fragrant water. "no use," was the agitated reply. "even were it possible, _they_ would not permit it." "you can come to visit me. then trust me to manage the rest. the truth is, amiga mia," doña inez continued hurriedly, as she smoothed her cousin's dark glossy hair, "what between sickness, and quarrelling, and the faith, and heresy, and prisons, there is so much trouble in the world that no one can help, it seems a pity not to help all one can. so you may tell don juan that if doña inez can do him a good turn she will not be found wanting. there, i despair of your cheeks. yet i must allow that their crimson becomes you well. but you would rather hear that from don juan's lips than from mine. go to him, my cousin." and with a parting kiss beatriz was dismissed. but if she expected any flattery that day from the lips of don juan, she was disappointed. his heart was far too sorrowful. he had merely come to tell his betrothed what he intended to do on the morrow--that dreadful morrow! "i have secured a station," he said, "from whence i can watch the whole procession, as it issues from the gate of the triana. if _he_ is there, i shall dare everything for a last look and word. and a desperate man is seldom baffled. if even his dust is there, i shall stand beside it till all is over. if not--" here he broke off, leaving his sentence unfinished, as if in that case it did not matter what he did. just then doña inez entered. after customary salutations, she said, "i have a request to make of you, my cousin, on the part of my brother, don gonsalvo. he desires to see you for a few moments." "señora my cousin, i am very much at your service, and at his." juan was accordingly conducted to the upper room where gonsalvo lay. and at the special request of the sick man, they were left alone together. he stretched out a wasted hand to his cousin, who took it in silence, but with a look of compassion. for it needed only a glance at his face to show that death was there. "i should be glad to think you forgave me," he said. "i do forgive you," juan answered. "you intended no evil." "will you, then, do me a great kindness? it is the last i shall ask. tell me the names of any of the--the _victims_ that have come to your knowledge." "it is only through rumour one can hear these things. not yet have i succeeded in discovering whether the name dearest to me is amongst them." "tell me--has rumour named in your hearing--doña maria de xeres y bohorques?" juan was still ignorant of the secret which doña inez had but recently confided to his betrothed. he therefore answered, without hesitation, though in a low, sad tone, "yes; they say she is to die to-morrow." don gonsalvo flung his hand across his face, and there was a great silence. which the awed and wondering juan broke at last. guessing at the truth, he said, "it may be i have done wrong to tell you." "no; you have done right. i knew it ere you told me. it is well--for her." "a brave word, bravely spoken." "nigh upon eighteen months--long slow months of grief and pain. all ended now. to-morrow night she will see the glory of god." there was another long pause. at last juan said,-- "perhaps, if you could, you would gladly share her fate?" gonsalvo half raised himself, and a flush overspread the wan face that already wore the ashy hue of approaching death. "share _that_ fate?" he cried, with an eagerness contrasting strangely with his former slow and measured utterance. "change with _them_? ask the beggar, who sits all day at the king's gate, waiting for his dole of crumbs, would he gladly change with the king's children, when he sees the golden gate flung open before them, and watches them pass in robed and crowned, to the presence-chamber of the king himself." "your faith is greater than mine," said juan in surprise. "in one way, yes," replied gonsalvo, sinking back, and resuming his low, quiet tone. "for the beggar dares to hope that the king has looked with pity even on _him_." "you do well to hope in the mercy of god." "cousin, do you know what my life has been?" "i think i do." "i am past disguise now. standing on the brink of the grave, i dare speak the truth, though it be to my own shame. there was no evil, no sin--stay, i will sum up all in one word. _one_ pure, blameless life--a man's life, too--i have watched from day to day, from childhood to manhood. all that your brother don carlos was, i was not; all he was not, i was." "yet you once thought that life incomplete, unmanly," said juan, remembering the taunts that in past days had so often aroused his wrath. "i was a fool. it is just retribution that i--i who called him coward--should see him march in there triumphant, with the palm of victory in his hand. but let me end; for i think it is the last time i shall speak of myself in any human ear. i sowed to the flesh, and of the flesh i have reaped--_corruption_. it is an awful word, don juan. all the life in me turned to death; all the good in me (what god meant for good, such as force, fire, passion) turned to evil. what availed it me that i loved a star in heaven--a bright, lonely, distant star--while i was earthy, of the earth? because i could not (and thank god for that!) pluck down my star from the sky and hold it in my hand, even that love became corruption too. i fulfilled my course, the earthly grew sensual, the sensual grew devilish. and then god smote me, though not then for the first time. the stroke of his hand was heavy. my heart was crushed, my frame left powerless." he paused for a while, then slowly resumed. "the stroke of his hand, your brother's words, your brother's book--by these he taught me. there is deliverance even from the bondage of corruption, through him who came to call not the righteous, but sinners. one day--and that soon--i, even i, shall kneel at his feet, and thank him for saving the lost. and then i shall see my star, shining far above me in his glorious heaven, and be content and glad." "god has been very gracious to you, my cousin," said juan in a tone of emotion. "and what he has cleansed i dare not call common. were my brother here to-day, i think he would stretch out to you the right hand, not of forgiveness, but of fellowship. i have told you how he longed for your soul." "god can fulfil more desires of his than that, don juan, and i doubt not he will. what know we of his dealings? we who all these dreary months have been mourning for and pitying his prisoners, to-morrow to be his crowned and sainted martyrs? it were a small thing with him to flood the dungeon's gloom with light, and give--even here, even now--all their hearts long for to those who suffer for him." juan was silent. truly the last was first, and the first last now. gonsalvo had reached some truths which were still far beyond _his_ ken. he did not know how their seed had been sown in his heart by his own brother's hand. at length he answered, in a low and faltering voice, "there is much in what you say. fray sebastian told me--" "ay," cried gonsalvo eagerly, "what did fray sebastian tell you of _him_?" "that he found him in perfect peace, though ill and weak in body. it is my hope that god himself has delivered him ere now out of their cruel hands. and i ought to tell you that he spoke of all his relatives with affection, and made special inquiry after your health." gonsalvo said quietly, "it is likely i shall see him before you." juan sighed. "to-morrow will reveal something," he said. "many things, perhaps," gonsalvo returned. "well--doña beatriz waits you now. there is no poison in that wine, though it be of an earthly vintage; and god himself puts the cup in your hand; so take it, and be comforted. yet stay; have you patience for one word more?" "for a thousand, if you will, my cousin." "i know that in heart you share his--_our_ faith." juan shrank a little from his gaze. "of course," he replied, "i have been obliged to conceal my opinions; and, indeed, of late all things have seemed to grow dim and uncertain with me. sometimes, in my heart of hearts, i cannot tell what truth is." "'he came not to call the righteous, but sinners,'" said gonsalvo. "and the sinner who has heard his call _must_ believe, let others doubt as they may. thank god, the sinner may not only believe, but love. yes; in that the beggar at the gate may take his stand beside the king's children unreproved. even i dare to say, 'lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that i love thee.' only to them it is given to prove it; while i--ay, there was the bitter thought. long it haunted me. at last i prayed that if indeed he deigned to accept me, all sinful as i was, he would give me for a sign something to do, to suffer, or to give up, whereby i might prove my love." "and did he hear you?" "yes. he showed me one thing harder to give up than life; one thing harder to do than to brave the torture and the death of fire." "what is that?" once more gonsalvo veiled his face. then he murmured--"harder to give up--vengeance, hatred; harder to do--to pray for _their_ murderers." "_i_ could never do it," said juan, starting. "and if at last--at last--_i_ can,--i, whose anger was fierce, and whose wrath was cruel, even unto death,--is not that his own work in me?" juan half turned away, and did not answer immediately. in his heart many thoughts were struggling. far, indeed, was he from praying for his brother's murderers; almost as far from wishing to do it. rather would he invoke god's vengeance upon them. had gonsalvo, in the depths of his misery, remorse, and penitence, actually found something which don juan alvarez still lacked? he said at last, with a humility new and strange to him,-- "my cousin, you are nearer heaven than i." "as to time--yes," said gonsalvo, with a faint smile. "now farewell, cousin; and thank you." "can i do nothing more for you?" "yes; tell my sister that i know all. now, god bless you, and deliver you from the evils that beset your path, and bring you and yours to some land where you may worship him in peace and safety." and so the cousins parted, never to meet again upon earth. xxxvi. "the horrible and tremendous spectacle."[ ] "all have passed: the fearful, and the desperate, and the strong. some like the barque that rushes with the blast; some like the leaf borne tremblingly along; and some like men who have but one more field to fight, and then may slumber on their shield-- therefore they arm in hope." hemans. at earliest dawn next morning, juan established himself in an upper room of one of the high houses which overlooked the gate of the triana. he had hired it from the owners for the purpose, stipulating for sole possession and perfect loneliness. [ ] so called by the inquisitor, de pegna. at sunrise the great cathedral bell tolled out solemnly, and all the bells in the city responded. through the crowd, which had already gathered in the street, richly dressed citizens were threading their way on foot. he knew they were those who, out of zeal for the faith, had volunteered to act as _patrinos_, or god-fathers, to the prisoners, walking beside them in the procession. amongst them he recognized his cousins, don manuel and don balthazar. they were all admitted into the castle by a private door. ere long the great gate was flung open. juan's eyes were rivetted to the spot. there was a sound of singing, sweet and low, as of childish voices; for the first to issue from those gloomy portals were the boys of the college of doctrine, dressed in white surplices, and chanting litanies to the saints. clear and full at intervals rose from their lips the "ora pro nobis" of the response; and tears gathered unconsciously in the eyes of juan at the old familiar words. in great contrast with the white-robed children came the next in order. juan drew his breath hard, for here were the penitents: pale, melancholy faces, "ghastly and disconsolate beyond what can be imagined;"[ ] forms clothed in black, without sleeves, and barefooted--hands carrying extinguished tapers. [ ] report of de pegna. those who walked foremost in the procession had only been convicted of such _minor_ offences as blasphemy, sorcery, or polygamy. but by-and-by there came others, wearing ugly sanbenitos--yellow, with red crosses--and conical paper mitres on their heads. juan's eye kindled with intenser interest; for he knew that these were lutherans. not without a wild dream--hope, perhaps--that the near approach of death might have subdued his brother's fortitude, did he scan in turn every mournful face. there was luis d'abrego, the illuminator of church books; there, walking long afterwards, as far more guilty, was medel d'espinosa, the dealer in embroidery, who had received the testaments brought by juliano. there were many others of much higher rank, with whom he was well acquainted. altogether more than eighty in number, the long and melancholy train swept by, every man or woman attended by two monks and a patrino. but carlos was not amongst them. then came the great cross of the inquisition; the face turned towards the penitent, the back to the _impenitent_--those devoted to the death of fire. and now juan's breath came and went--his lips trembled; all his soul was in his eager, straining eyes. now first he saw the hideous zamarra--a black robe, painted all over with saffron-coloured flames, into which devils and serpents, rudely represented, were thrusting the impenitent heretic. a paper crown, or carroza, similarly adorned, covered the victim's head. but the face of the wearer was unknown to juan. he was a poor artizan--juan de leon by name--who had made his escape by flight, but had been afterwards apprehended in the low countries. torture and cruel imprisonment had almost killed him already; but his heart was strong to suffer for the lord he loved, and though the pallor of death was on his cheek, there was no fear there. but the countenances of those that followed juan knew too well. never afterwards could he exactly recall the order in which they walked; yet every individual face stamped itself indelibly on his memory. he would carry those looks in his heart until his dying hour. no less than four of the victims wore the white tunic and brown mantle of st. jerome. one of these was an old man--leaning on his staff for very age, but with joy and confidence beaming in his countenance. the white locks, from which garçias arias had gained the name of doctor blanco, had been shorn away; but juan easily recognized the waverer of past days, now strengthened with all might, according to the glorious power of him whom at last he had learned to trust. the accomplished cristobal d'arellano, and fernando de san juan, master of the college of doctrine, followed calm and dauntless. steadfast, too, though not without a little natural shrinking from the doom of fire, was a mere youth--juan crisostomo. then came one clad in a doctor's robe, with the step of at conqueror and the mien of a king. as he issued from the triana he chanted, in a clear and steady voice, the words of the hundred and ninth psalm: "hold not thy peace, o god of my praise; for the mouth of the ungodly, yea, the mouth of the deceitful, is opened upon me: and they have spoken against me with false tongues. they compassed me about also with words of hatred, and fought against me without a cause.... help me, o lord my god: o save me according to thy mercy; and they shall know how that this is thine hand, and that thou, lord, hast done it. though they curse, yet bless thou." so died away the voice of juan gonsalez, one of the noblest of christ's noble band of witnesses in spain. all these were arrayed in the garments of their ecclesiastical orders, to be solemnly degraded on the scaffold in the square of st. francis. but there followed one already in the full infamy, or glory, of the zamarra and carroza, with painted flames and demons;--with a thrill of emotion, juan recognized his friend and teacher, cristobal losada--looking calm and fearless--a hero marching to his last battle, conquering and to conquer. yet even that face soon faded from juan's thoughts. for there walked in that gloomy death procession _six_ females--persons of rank; nearly all of them young and beautiful, but worn by imprisonment, and more than one amongst them maimed by torture. yet if man was cruel, christ, for whom they suffered, was pitiful. their countenances, calm and even radiant, revealed the hidden power by which they were sustained. their names--which deserve a place beside those of the women of old who were last at his cross and first beside his open sepulchre--were, doña isabella de baena, in whose house the church was wont to meet; the two sisters of juan gonsalez; doña maria de virves; doña maria de cornel; and, last of all, doña maria de bohorques, whose face shone as the first martyr's, looking up into heaven. she alone, of all the female martyr band, appeared wearing the gag, an honour due to her heroic efforts to console and sustain her companions in the court of the triana. juan's brave heart well-nigh burst with impotent, indignant anguish. "ay de mi, my spain!" he cried; "thou seest these things, and endurest them. lucifer, son of the morning, thou art fallen--fallen from thy high place amongst the nations." it was true. from the man, or nation, "that hath not," shall be taken "even that which he seemeth to have." had the spirit of chivalry, spain's boast and pride, been faithful to its own dim light, it might even then have saved spain. but its light became darkness; its trust was betrayed into the hand of superstition. therefore, in the just judgment of god, its own degradation quickly followed. spain's chivalry lost gradually all that was genuine, all that was noble in it; until it became only a faint and ghastly mockery, a sign of corruption, like the phosphoric light that flickers above the grave. absorbed in his bitter thoughts, juan well-nigh missed the last of the doomed ones--last because highest in worldly rank. sad and slow, with eyes bent down, don juan ponce de leon walked along. the flames on his zamarra were reversed; poor symbol of the poor mercy for which he sold his joy and triumph and dimmed the brightness of his martyr crown. yet surely he did not lose the glad welcome that awaited him at the close of that terrible day; nor the right to say, with the erring restored apostle, "lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that i love thee." all the living victims had passed now. and don carlos alvarez was not amongst them. juan breathed a sigh of relief; but not yet did his straining eyes relax their gaze. for rome's vengeance reached even to the grave. next, there were borne along the statues of those who had died in heresy, robed in the hideous zamarra, and followed by black chests containing their bones to be burned. not there!--no--not there! at last juan's trembling hands let go the framework of the window to which they had been clinging; and, the intense strain over, he fell back exhausted. the stately pageant swept by, unwatched by him. he never saw, what all seville was gazing on with admiration, the grand procession of the judges and counsellors of the city, in their robes of office; the chapter of the cathedral; the long slow train of priests and monks that followed. and then, in a space left empty out of reverence, the great green standard of the inquisition was borne aloft, and over it a gilded crucifix. then came the inquisitors themselves, in their splendid official dresses. and lastly, on horseback and in gorgeous apparel, the familiars of the inquisition. it was well that juan's eyes were turned from that sight. what avails it for lips white with passion to heap wild curses on the heads of those for whom god's curse already "waits in calm shadow," until the day of reckoning be fully come? curses, after all, are weapons dangerous to use, and apt to pierce the hand that wields them. his first feeling was one of intense relief, almost of joy. he had escaped the maddening torture of seeing his brother dragged before his eyes to the death of anguish and shame. but to that succeeded the bitter thought, growing soon into full, mournful conviction, "i shall see his face no more on earth. he is dead--or dying." yet that day the deep, strong current of his brotherly love was crossed by another tide of emotion. those heroic men and women, whom he watched as they passed along so calmly to their doom, had he no bond of sympathy with them? was it so long since he had pressed losada's hand in grateful friendship, and thanked doña isabella de baena for the teaching received beneath her roof? with a thrill of keen and sudden shame the gallant soldier saw himself a recreant, who had flaunted his gay uniform on the parade and at the field-day, but when the hour of conflict came, had stepped aside, and let the sword and the bullet find out braver and truer hearts. _he_ could not die thus for his faith. on the contrary, it cost him but little to conceal it, to live in every respect like an orthodox catholic. what, then, had they which he had not? something that enabled his young brother--the boy who used to weep for a blow--to stand and look fearless in the face of a horrible death. something that enabled even poor, wild, passionate gonsalvo to forgive and pray for the murderers of the woman he loved. what was it? xxxvii. something ended and something begun. "o sweet and strange it is to think that ere this day is done, the voice that now is speaking may be beyond the sun; for ever and for ever with those just souls and true-- and what is life that we should mourn, why make we such ado?" tennyson. late in the afternoon of that day, doña inez entered her sick brother's room. a glitter of silk, rose-coloured and black, of costly lace and of gems and gold, seemed to surround her. but as she threw aside the mantilla that partially shaded her face, and almost sank on a seat beside the bed, it was easy to see that she was very faint and weary, if not also very sick at heart. "santa maria! i am tired to death," she murmured. "the heat was killing; and the whole business interminably long." gonsalvo gazed at her with eager eyes, as a man dying of thirst might gaze on one who holds a cup of water; but for a while he did not speak. at last he said, pointing to some wine that lay near, beside an untasted meal,-- "drink, then." "what, my brother!" said doña inez, reproachfully, "you have not touched food to-day! you--so ill and weak!" "i am a man--even still," said gonsalvo with a little bitterness in his tone. doña inez drank, and for a few moments fanned herself in silence, distress and embarrassment in her face. at last gonsalvo, who had never withdrawn his eager gaze, said in a low voice,-- "sister, remember your promise." "i am afraid--for you." "you need not," he gasped. "only tell me _all_." doña inez passed her hand wearily across her brow. "everything floats before me," she said. "what with the music, and the mass, and the incense; and the crosses, and banners, and gorgeous robes; and then the taking of the oaths, and the sermon of the faith." "still--you kept my charge?" "i did, brother." she lowered her voice. "hard as it was, i looked at _her_. if it comforts you to know that, all through that long day, her face was as calm as ever i have seen it listening to fray constantino's sermons, you may take that comfort to your heart. when her sentence had been read, she was asked to recant; and i heard her answer rise clear and distinct, 'i neither can nor will recant.' ave maria sanctissima! it is all a great mystery." there was a silence, then she resumed,-- "and señor cristobal losada--" but the thought of the kind and skilful physician who had watched beside her own sick-bed, and brought back her babe from the gates of the grave, almost overcame her. turning quickly to other victims, she went on-- "there were four monks of st. jerome. think of the white doctor, that every one believed so good a man, so pious and orthodox! another of them, fray cristobal d'arellano, was accused in his sentence of some wicked words against our lady which, it would seem, he never said. he cried out boldly, before them all, 'it is false! i never advanced such a blasphemy; and i am ready to prove the contrary with the bible in my hand.' every one seemed too much amazed even to think of ordering him to be gagged: and, for my part, i am glad the poor wretch had his word for the last time. i cannot help wishing they had equally forgotten to silence doctor juan gonzales; for it does not appear that he was speaking any blasphemy, but merely a word of comfort to a poor pale girl, his sister, as they told me. two of them are to die with him--god help them!--holy saints forgive me; i forgot we were told not to pray for them," and she crossed herself. "does my sister really believe that compassionate word a sin in god's sight?" "how am i to know? i believe whatever the church says, of course. and surely there is enough in these days to inspire us with a pious horror of heresy. _pues_," she resumed, "there was that long and terrible ceremony of degrading from the priesthood. and yet that gonsalez passed through it all as calm and unmoved as though he were but putting on his robes to say mass. his mother and his two brothers are still in prison, it is said, awaiting their doom. of all the relaxed, i am told that only don juan ponce de leon showed any sign of penitence. for the sake of his noble house, one is glad to think he is not so hardened as the rest. ay de mi! whether it be right or wrong, i cannot help pitying their unhappy souls." "pity your own soul, not theirs," said gonsalvo. "for i tell you christ himself, in all his glory and majesty, at the right hand of the father, will _stand up_ to receive them this night, as he did to welcome st. stephen long ago." "oh, my poor brother, what dreadful words you speak! it is a mortal sin even to listen to you. take thought, i implore you, of your own situation." "i _have_ taken thought," interrupted gonsalvo, faintly. "but i can bear no more--just now. leave me, i pray you, alone with god." "if you would even try to say an ave!--but i fear you are ill--suffering. i do not like to leave you thus." "do not heed me; i shall be better soon. and a vow is upon me that i must keep to-day." once more he flung the wasted hand across his face to conceal it. irresolute whether to go or stay, she stood for some minutes watching him silently. at length she caught a low murmur, and hoping that he prayed, she bent over him to hear. only three words reached her ear. they were these--"father, forgive them." after an interval, gonsalvo looked up again. "i thought you were gone," he said. "go now, i entreat of you. but so soon as you know _the end_, spare not to come and tell me. for i wait for that." thus entreated, doña inez had no choice but to leave him alone, which she did. evening had worn to night, and night was beginning to wear towards daybreak, when at last don garçia ramirez, and those of his servants who had accompanied him to the prado san sebastian to see the end, returned home. doña inez sat awaiting her husband in the patio. she looked pale and languid; apparently the great holiday of seville had been anything but a joyful day to her. don garçia divested himself of his cloak and sword, and dismissed the servants to their beds. but when his wife invited him to partake of the supper she had prepared, he turned upon her with very unusual ill-humour. "it is little like thy wonted wit, señora mia, to bid a man to his breakfast at midnight," he said. yet he drank deeply of the xeres wine that stood on the board beside the venison pasty and the manchet bread. at last, after long patience, doña inez won from his lips what she desired to hear. "oh yes; all is over. our lady defend us! i have never seen such obstinacy; nor could i have believed it possible unless i had seen it. the criminals encouraged each other to the very last. those girls, the sisters of gonsalez, repeated their credo at the stake; whereupon the attendant brethren entreated them to have so much pity on their own souls as to say, 'i believe in the _roman_ catholic church.' they answered, 'we will do as our brother does.' so the gag was removed, and doctor juan cried aloud, 'add nothing to the good confession you have made already.' but for all that, order was given to strangle them; and one of the friars told us they died in the true faith. i suppose it is not a sin to hope they did." after a pause, he continued, in a deeper tone, "señor cristobal amazed me as much as any of them. at the very stake, some of the brethren undertook to argue with him. but seeing that we were all listening, and might hear somewhat to the hurt of our souls, they began to speak in the latin tongue. our physician immediately did the same. i am no scholar myself; but there were learned men there who marked every word, and one of them told me afterwards that the doomed man spoke with as much elegance and propriety as if he had been contending for an academic prize, instead of waiting for the lighting of the fire which was to consume him. this unheard-of calmness and composure, whence is it? the devil's own work, or"----he broke off suddenly and resumed in a different tone, "señora mia, have you thought of the hour? in heaven's name, let us to our beds!" "i cannot go to rest until you tell me one thing more. doña maria de bohorques?" "vaya, vaya! have we not had enough of it all?" "nay; i have made a promise. i must entreat you to tell me how doña maria de bohorques met her doom." "with unflinching hardihood. don juan ponce tried to urge her to yield somewhat. but she refused, saying it was not now a time for reasoning, and that they ought rather to meditate on the lord's death and passion. (they believe in _that_, it seems.) when she was bound to the stake, the monks and friars crowded round her, and pressed her only to repeat the credo. she did so; but began to add some explanations, which, i suppose, were heretical. then immediately the command was given to strangle her; and so, in one moment, while she was yet speaking, death came to her." "then she did not suffer? she escaped the fire! thank god!" five minutes afterwards, doña inez stood by her brother's bed. he lay in the same posture, his face still shaded by his hand. "brother," she said gently--"brother, all is over. she did not suffer. it was done in one moment." there was no answer. "brother, are you not glad she did not feel the fire? can you not thank god for it? speak to me." still no answer. he could not be asleep! impossible!--"speak to me, gonsalvo!--_brother!_" she drew close to him; she touched his hand to remove it from his face. the next moment a cry of horror rang through the house. it brought the servants and don garçia himself to the room. "he is dead! god and our lady have mercy on his soul!" said don garçia, after a brief examination. "if only he had had the holy sacrament, i could have borne it!" said doña inez; and then, kneeling down beside the couch, she wept bitterly. so passed the beggar with the king's sons, through the golden gate into the king's own presence-chamber. his wrecked and troublous life over, his passionate heart at rest for ever, the erring, repentant gonsalvo found entrance into the same heaven as d'arellano, and gonsalez, and losada, with their radiant martyr-crowns. in the many mansions there was a place for him, as for those heroic and triumphant ones. he wore the same robe as they--a robe washed and made white, not in the blood of martyrs, but in the blood of the lamb. xxxviii. nuera again. "happy places have grown holy; if ye went where once ye went, only tears would fall down slowly, as at solemn sacrament. household names, that used to flutter through your laughter unawares, god's divine one ye can utter with less troubling in your prayers." e.b. browning. a chill and dreary torpor stole over juan's fiery spirit after the auto. the settled conviction that his brother was dead took possession of his mind. moreover, his soul had lost its hold upon the faith which he once embraced so warmly. he had consciously ceased to be true to his best convictions, and those convictions, in turn, had ceased to support him. his confidence in himself, his trust in his own heart, had been shaken to its foundations. and he was very far from having gained in its stead that strong confidence in god which would have infinitely more than counterbalanced its loss. thus two or three slow and melancholy months wore away. then, fortunately for him, events happened that forced him, in spite of himself, to the exertion that saves from the deadly slumber of despair. it became evident, that if he did not wish to see the last earthly treasure that remained to him swept out of his reach for ever, he must rouse himself from his lethargy so far as to grasp and hold it; for now don manuel _commanded_ his ward to bestow her hand upon his rival, señor luis rotelo. in her anguish and dismay, beatriz fled for refuge to her kind-hearted cousin, doña inez. doña inez received her into her house, where she soothed and comforted her; and soon found means to despatch an "esquelita," or billet, to don juan, to the following effect:--"doña beatriz is here. remember, my cousin, 'that a leap over a ditch is better than another man's prayer.'" to which juan replied immediately:-- "señora and my cousin, i kiss your feet. lend me a helping hand, and i take the leap." doña inez desired nothing better. being a spanish lady, she loved an intrigue for its own sake; being a very kindly disposed lady, she loved an intrigue for a benevolent object. with her active co-operation and assistance, and her husband's connivance, it was quickly arranged that don juan should carry off doña beatriz from their house to a little country chapel in the neighbourhood, where a priest would be in readiness to perform the solemn rite which should unite them for ever. thence they were to proceed at once to nuera, don juan disguising himself for the journey as the lady's attendant. doña inez did not anticipate that her father and brothers would take any hostile steps after the conclusion of the affair--glad though they might have been to prevent it--since there was nothing which they hated and dreaded so much as a public scandal. all juan's latent fire and energy woke up again to meet the peril and to secure the prize. he was successful in everything; the plan had been well laid, and was well and promptly carried out. and thus it happened, that amidst december snows he bore his beautiful bride home to nuera in triumph. if triumph it could be called, overcast by the ever-present memory of the one who "was not," which rested like a deep shadow upon all joy, and subdued and chastened it. few things in life are sadder than a great, long-expected blessing coming thus;--like a friend from a foreign land whose return has been eagerly anticipated, but who, after years of absence, meets us changed in countenance and in heart, unrecognizing and unrecognized. dolores welcomed her young master and his bride with affection and thankfulness. but he noticed that the dark hair, at the time of his last visit still only threaded with silver, had grown white as the mountain snows. in former days dolores could not have told which of the noble youths, her lady's gallant sons, had been the dearer to her. but now she knew full well. her heart was in the grave with the boy she had taken a helpless babe from his dying mother's arms. but, after all, _was_ he in the grave? this was the question which she asked herself day by day, and many times a day. she was not quite so sure of the answer as señor don juan seemed to be. since the day of the auto, he had assumed all the outward signs of mourning for his brother. fray sebastian was also at nuera, and proved a real help and comfort to its inmates. his very presence served to shield the household from any suspicions that might have been awakened with regard to their faith. for who could doubt the orthodoxy of don juan alvarez, while he not only contributed liberally to the support of his parish church, but also kept a pious franciscan in his family, in the capacity of private chaplain? though it must be confessed that the fray's duties were anything but onerous; now, as in former days, he showed himself a man fond of quiet, who for the most part held his peace, and let every one do what was right in his own eyes. he was now on far more cordial terms with dolores than he had ever been before. this was partly because he had learned that worse physical evils than ollas of lean mutton, or cheese of goat's milk, _might_ be borne with patience, even with thankfulness. but partly also because dolores now really tried to consult his tastes and to promote his comfort. many a savoury dish "which the fray used to like" did she trouble herself to prepare; many a flask of wine from their diminishing store did she gladly produce, "for the kind words that he spake to _him_ in his sorrow and loneliness." in spite of the depressing influences around her, doña beatriz could not but be very happy. for was not don juan hers, all her own, her own for ever? and with the zeal love inspires, and the skill love imparts, she applied herself to the task of brightening his darkened life. not quite without effect. even from that stern and gloomy brow the shadows at length began to roll away. don juan could not speak of his sorrow. for weeks indeed after his return to nuera his brother's name did not pass his lips. better had it been otherwise, both for himself and for dolores. her heart, aching with its own lonely anguish and its vague, dark surmisings, often longed to know her young master's true innermost thought about his brother's fate. but she did not dare to ask him. at last, however, this painful silence was partially broken through. one morning the old servant accosted her master with an air of some displeasure. it was in the inner room within the hall. holding in her hand a little book, she said,--"may it please your excellency to pardon my freedom, but it is not well done of you to leave this lying open on your table. i am a simple woman; still i am at no loss to know what and whence it is. if you will not destroy it, and cannot keep it safe and secret, i implore of your worship to give it to me." juan held out his hand for it. "it is dearer to me than any earthly possession," he said briefly. "it had need to be dearer than your life, señor, if you mean to leave it about in that fashion." "i have lost the right to say so much," juan answered. "and yet, dolores--tell me, would it break your heart if i sold this place--you know it is mortgaged heavily already--and quitted the country?" juan expected a start, if not a cry of surprise and dismay. that alvarez de meñaya should sell the inheritance of his fathers seemed indeed a monstrous proposal. in the eyes of the world it would be an act of insanity, if not a crime. what then would it appear to one who loved the name of santillanos y meñaya far better than her life? but the still face of dolores never changed. "nothing would break my heart _now_," she said calmly. "you would come with us?" she did not even ask _whither_. she did not care: all her thoughts were in the past. "that is of course, señor," she answered. "if i had but first assurance of _one_ thing." "name it; and if i can assure you, i will." instead of naming it she turned silently away. but presently turning again, she asked, "will your excellency please to tell me, is it that book that is driving you into exile?" "it is. i am bound to confess the truth before men; and that is impossible here." "but are you sure then that it is the truth?" "sure. i have read god's message both in the darkness and in the light. i have seen it traced in characters of blood--and fire." "but--forgive the question, señor--does it make you happy?" "why do you ask?" "because, señor don juan"--she spoke with an effort, but firmly, and fixing her eyes on his face--"he who gave you yon book found therein that which made him happy. i know it; he was here, and i watched him. when he came first, he was ill, or else very sorrowful, i know not why. but he learned from that book that god almighty loved him, and that the lord and saviour christ was his friend; and then his sorrow passed away, and his heart grew full of joy, so full that he must needs be telling me--ay, and even that poor dolt of a cura down there in the village--about the good news. and i think"--but here she stopped, frightened at her own boldness. "what think you?" asked juan, with difficulty restraining his emotion. "well, señor don juan, i think that if that good news be true, it would not be so hard to suffer for it. blessed virgin! could it be aught but joy to me, for instance, to lie in a dark dungeon, or even to be hanged or burned, if that could work out _his_ deliverance? there be worse things in the world than pain or prisons. for where there's love, señor---- moreover, it comes upon me sometimes that the lords inquisitors may have mistaken his case. wise and learned they may he, and good and holy they are, of course--'twere sin to doubt it--yet they _may_ mistake sometimes. 'twas but the other day, my old eyes growing dim apace, that i took a blessed gleam of sunlight that had fallen on yon oak table for a stain, and set to work to rub it off; the lord forgive me for meddling with one of the best of his works! and, for aught we know, just so may they be doing, mistaking god's light upon the soul for the devil's stain of heresy. but the sunlight is stronger than they, after all." "dolores, you are half a lutheran already yourself," answered juan in surprise. "i, señor! the lord forbid! i am an old christian, and a good catholic, and so i hope to die. but if you must hear all the truth, i would walk in a yellow sanbenito, with a taper in my hand, before i would acknowledge that _he_ ever said one word or thought one thought that was not catholic and christian too. all his crime was to find out that the good lord loved him, and to be happy on account of it. if that be your religion also, señor don juan, i have nothing to say against it. and, as i have said, god granting me, in his great mercy, one assurance first, i am ready to follow you and your lady to the world's end." with these words on her lips she left the room. for a time juan sat silent in deep thought. then he opened the testament, and turned over its leaves until he found the parable of the sower. "'some fell upon stony places,'" he read, "'where they had not much earth; and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth: and when the sun was up, they were scorched; and, because they had no root, they withered away.' there," he said within himself, "in those words is written the history of my life, from the day my brother confessed his faith to me in the garden of san isodro. god help me, and forgive my backsliding! but at least it is not too late to go humbly back to the beginning, and to ask him who alone can do it to break up the fallow ground." he closed the book, walked to the window and looked out. presently his eye was attracted to those dear mystic words on the pane, which both the brothers had loved and dreamed over from their childhood,-- "el dorado yo hé trovado." and at that moment the sun was shining on them as brightly as it used to do in those old days gone by for ever. no vague dream of any good, foreshadowed by the omen to him or to his house, crossed the mind of the practical don juan. but he seemed to hear once more the voice of his young brother saying close beside him, "look, ruy, the light is on our father's words." and memory bore him back to a morning long ago, when some slight boyish quarrel had been ended thus. over his stern, handsome face there passed a look that shaded and softened it, and his eyes grew dim--dim with tears. but just then doña beatriz, radiant from a morning walk, and with her hands full of early spring flowers, tripped in, singing a spanish ballad,-- "ye men that row the galleys, i see my lady fair; she gazes at the fountain that leaps for pleasure there." beatriz was a child of the city; and, moreover, her life hitherto had been an unloved and unloving one. now her nature was expanding under the wholesome influences of home life and home love, and of simple healthful pleasures. "look, don juan, what pretty things grow in your fields here! i have never seen the like," she said, breaking off in her song to exhibit her treasures. don juan looked carelessly at them, lovingly at her. "i would fain hear a morning hymn from those sweet, tuneful lips," he pleaded. "most willingly, amigo mio,-- 'ave sanctissima--'" "hush, my beloved; hush, i entreat of you." and laying his hand lightly on her shoulder, he gazed in her face with a mixture of fond and tender admiration and of gentle reproach difficult to describe. "_not that._ for the sake of all that lies between us and the old faith, not that. rather let us sing together,-- 'vexilla regis prodeunt.' for you know that between us and our king there stands, and there needs to stand, no human mediator. do you not, my beloved?" "i know that _you_ are right," answered beatriz, still reading her faith in don juan's eyes. "but we can sing afterwards, whatever you like, and as much as you will. i pray you let us come forth now into the sunshine together. look, what a glorious morning it is!" xxxix. left behind. "they are all gone into a world of light, and i alone am lingering here." henry vaughan. the change of seasons brought little change to those dark cells in the triana, where neither the glory of summer nor the breath of spring could come. while the world, with its living interests, its hopes and fears, its joys and sorrows, kept surging round them, not even an echo of its many voices reached the doomed ones within, who lay so near, yet so far from all, "fast bound in misery and iron." not yet had the deliverer come to carlos. more than once he had seemed very near. during the summer heats, so terrible in that prison, fever had wasted the captive's already enfeebled frame; but this was the means of prolonging his life, for the eve of the auto found him unable to walk across his cell. still he heard without very keen sorrow the fate of his beloved friends, so soon did he hope to follow them. and yet, month after month, life lingered on. in his circumstances restoration to health was simply impossible. not that he endured more than others, or even as much as some. he was not loaded with fetters, or buried in one of the frightful subterranean cells where daylight never entered. still, when to the many physical sufferings his position entailed was added the weight of sickness, weakness, and utter loneliness, they formed together a burden heavy enough to have crushed even a strong heart to despair. long ago the last gleam of human sympathy and kindness had faded from him. maria gonsalez was herself a prisoner, receiving such payment as men had to give her for her brave deeds of charity. god's payment, however, was yet to come, and would be of another sort. herrera, the under-gaoler, was humane, but very timid; moreover, his duties seldom led him to that part of the prison where carlos lay. so that he was left dependent upon the tender mercies of gaspar benevidio, which were indeed cruel. and yet, in spite of all, he was not crushed, not despairing. the lamp of patient endurance burned on steadily, because it was continually fed with oil by an unseen hand. it has been beautifully said, "the personal love of christ to you, felt, delighted in, returned, is actually, truly, simply, without exaggeration, the deepest joy and the deepest feeling that the heart of man or woman can know. it will absolutely satisfy your heart. it would satisfy your heart if it were his will that you should spend the rest of your life alone in a dungeon." just this, nothing else, nothing less, sustained carlos throughout those long slow months of suffering, which had now come to "add themselves and make the years." it proved sufficient for him. it has proved sufficient for thousands--god's unknown saints and martyrs, whose names we shall learn first in heaven. those who still occasionally sought access to him, in the hope of transforming the obstinate heretic into a penitent, marvelled greatly at the cheerful calm with which he was wont to receive them and to answer their arguments. sometimes he would even brave all the wrath of benevidio, and raising his voice as loud as he could, he would make the gloomy vaults re-echo to such words as these: "the lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall i fear? the lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall i be afraid?" or these: "whom have i in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that i desire beside thee. my flesh and my heart faileth; but god is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." but still it was not in christ's promise, nor was it to be expected, that his prisoner should never know hours of sorrow, weariness, and heart-sinking. such hours came sometimes. and on the very morning when don juan and doña beatriz were going forth together into the spring sunshine through the castle gate of nuera, carlos, in his dungeon, was passing through one of the darkest of these. he lay on his mat, his face covered with his wasted hands, through which tears were slowly falling. it was but very seldom that he wept now; tears had grown rare and scarce with him. the evening before, he had received a visit from two jesuits, bound on the only errand which would have procured their admission there. irritated by his bold and ready answers to the usual arguments, they had recourse to declamation. and one of them bethought himself of mentioning the fate of the lutherans who suffered at the two great autos of valladolid. "most of the heretics," said the jesuit, "though when they were in prison they were as obstinate as thou art now, yet had their eyes opened in the end to the error of their ways, and accepted reconciliation at the stake. at the last great act of faith, held in the presence of king philip, only don carlos de seso--" here he stopped, surprised at the agitation of the prisoner, who had heard their threatenings against himself so calmly. "de seso! de seso! have they murdered him too?" moaned carlos, and for a few brief moments he gave way to natural emotion. but quickly recovering himself he said, "i shall only see him the sooner." "were you acquainted with him?" asked the jesuit. "i loved and honoured him. my avowing that cannot hurt him _now_," answered carlos, who had grown used to the bitter thought that any name would be disgraced and its owner imperilled, by _his_ mentioning it with affection. "but if you will do me so much kindness," he added, "i pray you to tell me anything you know of his last hours. any word he spoke." "he could speak nothing," said the younger of his two visitors. "before he left the prison he had uttered so many horrible blasphemies against holy church and our lady that he was obliged to wear the gag during the whole ceremony, 'lest he should offend the little ones.'"[ ] [ ] a genuine inquisitorial expression. this last cruel wrong--the refusal of leave to the dying to speak one word in defence of the truths he died for--stung carlos to the quick. it wrung from lips so patient hitherto words of indignant threatening. "god will judge your cruelty," he said. "go on, fill up the measure of your guilt, for your time is short. one day, and that soon, there will be a grand spectacle, grander than your autos. then shall you, torturers of god's saints, call upon the mountains and rocks to cover you, and to hide you from the wrath of the lamb." once more alone, his passionate anger died away. and it was well. surrounded as he was on every side by strong, cold, relentless wrong and cruelty, if his spirit had beaten its wings against those bars of iron, it would soon have fallen to the ground faint and helpless, with crushed pinions. it was not in such vain strivings that he could find, or keep, the deep calm peace with which his heart was filled; it was in the quiet place at his saviour's feet, from whence, if he looked at his enemies at all, it was only to pity and forgive them. but though anger was gone, a heavy burden of sorrow remained. de seso's noble form, shrouded in the hideous zamarra, his head crowned with the carroza, his face disfigured by the gag,--these were ever before his eyes. he well-nigh forgot that all this was over now--that for him the conflict was ended and the triumph begun. could he have known even as much as we know now of the close of that heroic life, it might have comforted him. don carlos de seso met his doom at the second of the two great autos celebrated at valladolid during the year . at the first, the most steadfast sufferers were francisco de vibero cazalla, one of a family of confessors; and antonio herezuelo, whose pathetic story--the most thrilling episode of spanish martyrology--would need an abler pen than ours. during his lingering imprisonment of a year and a half, de seso never varied in his own clear testimony to the truth, never compromised any of his brethren. informed at last that he was to die the next day, he requested writing materials. these being furnished him, he placed on record a confession of his faith, which llorente, the historian of the inquisition, thus describes:--"it would be difficult to convey an idea of the uncommon vigour of sentiment with which he filled two sheets of paper, though he was then in the presence of death. he handed what he had written to the alguazil, with these words: 'this is the true faith of the gospel, as opposed to that of the church of rome, which has been corrupted for ages. in this faith i wish to die, and in the remembrance and lively belief of the passion of jesus christ, to offer to god my body, now reduced so low.'" all that night and the next morning were spent by the friars in vain endeavours to induce him to recant. during the auto, though he could not speak, his countenance showed the steadfastness of his soul--a steadfastness which even the sight of his beloved wife amongst those condemned to perpetual imprisonment failed to disturb. when at last, as he was bound to the stake, the gag was removed, he said to those who stood around him, still urging him to yield, "i could show you that you ruin yourselves by not following my example; but there is no time. executioners, light the fire that is to consume me." even in the act of death it was given him, though unconsciously, to strengthen the faith of another. in the martyr band was a poor man, juan sanchez, who had been a servant of the cazallas, and was apprehended in flanders with juan de leon. he had borne himself bravely throughout; but when the fire was kindled, the ropes that bound him to the stake having given way, the instinct of self-preservation made him rush from the flames, and, not knowing what he did, spring upon the scaffold where those who yielded at the last were wont to receive absolution. the attendant monks at once surrounded him, offering him the alternative of the milder death. recovering self-possession, he looked around him. at one side knelt the penitents, at the other, motionless amidst the flames, de seso stood, "as standing in his own high hall." his choice was made. "i will die like de seso," he said calmly; and then walked deliberately back to the stake, where he met his doom with joy. another brave sufferer at this auto, don domingo de roxas, ventured to make appeal to the justice of the king, only to receive the memorable reply, never to be read without a shudder,--"i would carry wood to burn my son, if he were such a wretch as thou!" all these circumstances carlos never heard on this side of the grave. but in the quiet sabbath-keeping that remaineth for the people of god, there will surely be leisure enough to talk over past trials and triumphs. at present, however, he only saw the dark side--only knew the bare and bitter facts of suffering and death. he had not merely loved de seso as his instructor; he had admired him with the generous enthusiasm of a young man for a senior in whom he recognizes his ideal--all that he himself would fain become. if the spains had but known the day of their visitation, he doubted not that man would have been their leader in the path of reform. but they knew it not; and so, instead, the chariot of fire had come for him. for him, and for nearly all the men and women whose hands carlos had been wont to clasp in loving brotherhood. losada, d'arellano, ponce de leon, doña isabella de baena, doña maria de bohorques,--all these honoured names, and many more, did he repeat, adding after each one of them, "at rest with christ." somewhere in the depths of those dreary dungeons it might be that the heroic juliano, his father in the faith, was lingering still; and also fray constantino, and the young monk of san isodro, fray fernando. but the prison walls sundered them quite as hopelessly from him as the river of death itself. earlier ties sometimes seemed to him only like things he had read or dreamed of. during his fever, indeed, old familiar faces had often flitted round him. dolores sat beside him, laying her hand on his burning brow; fray sebastian taught him disjointed, meaningless fragments from the schoolmen; juan himself either spoke cheerful words of hope and trust, or else talked idly of long-forgotten trifles. but all this was over now: neither dream nor fancy came to break his utter, terrible loneliness. he knew that he was never to see juan again, nor dolores, nor even fray sebastian. the world was dead to him, and he to it. and as for his brethren in the faith, they had gone "to the light beyond the clouds, and the rest beyond the storms," where he would so gladly be. why, then, was he left so long, like one standing without in the cold? why did not the golden gate open for him as well as for them? what was he doing in this place?--what _could_ he do for his master's cause or his master's honour? he did not murmur. by this time his saviour's prayer, "not my will, but thine be done," had been wrought into the texture of his being with the scarlet, purple, and golden threads of pain, of patience, and of faith. but it is well for his tried ones that he knows longing is not murmuring. very full of longing were the words--words rather of pleading than of prayer--that rose continually from the lips of carlos that day,--"and now, lord, _what wait i for_?" xl. "a satisfactory penitent." "how long in thraldom's grasp i lay i knew not; for my soul was black, and knew no change of night or day." campbell. carlos was sleeping tranquilly in his dungeon on the following night, when the opening of the door aroused him. he started with sickening dread, the horrors of the torture-room rising in an instant before his imagination. benevidio entered, followed by herrera, and commanded him to rise and dress immediately. long experience of the santa casa had taught him that he might as well make an inquiry of its doors and walls as of any of its officials. so he obeyed in silence, and slowly and painfully enough. but he was soon relieved from his worst fear by seeing herrera fold together the few articles of clothing he had been allowed to have with him, preparatory to carrying them away. "it is only, then, a change of prison," he thought; "and wherever they bring me, heaven will be equally near." his limbs, enfeebled by two years of close confinement, and lame from the effects of one terrible night, were sorely tried by what he thought an almost interminable walk through corridors and down narrow winding stairs. but at last he was conducted to a small postern door, which, greatly to his surprise, benevidio proceeded to unlock. the kind-hearted herrera took advantage of the moment when benevidio was thus occupied to whisper,-- "we are bringing you to the dominican prison, señor; you will be better used there." carlos thanked him by a grateful look and a pressure of the hand. but an instant afterwards he had forgotten his words. he had forgotten everything save that he stood once more in god's free air, and that god's own boundless heaven, spangled with ten thousand stars, was over him, no dungeon roof between. for one rapturous moment he gazed upwards, thanking god in his heart. but the fresh air he breathed seemed to intoxicate him like strong wine. he grew faint, and leaned for support on herrera. "courage, señor; it is not far--only a few paces," said the under-gaoler, kindly. weak as he was, carlos wished the distance a hundred times greater. but it proved quite long enough for his strength. by the time he was delivered over into the keeping of a couple of lay brothers, and locked by them into a cell in the dominican monastery, he was scarcely conscious of anything save excessive fatigue. the next morning was pretty far advanced before any one came to him; but at last he was honoured with a visit from the prior himself. he said frankly, and with perfect truth,-- "i am glad to find myself in your hands, my lord." to one accustomed to feel himself an object of terror, it is a new and pleasant sensation to be trusted. even a wild beast will sometimes spare the weak but fearless creature that ventures to play with it: and don fray ricardo was not a wild beast; he was only a stern, narrow, conscientious man, the willing and efficient agent of a terrible system. his brow relaxed visibly as he said,-- "i have always sought your true good, my son." "i am well aware of it, father." "and you must acknowledge," the prior resumed, "that great forbearance and lenity have been shown towards you. but your infatuation has been such that you have deliberately and persistently sought your own ruin. you have resisted the wisest arguments, the gentlest persuasions, and that with an obstinacy which time and discipline seem only to increase. and now at last, as another auto-da-fé may not be celebrated for some time, my lord vice-inquisitor-general, justly incensed at your contumacy, would fain have thrown you into one of the underground dungeons, where, believe me, you would not live a month. but i have interceded for you." "i thank your kindness, my lord. but i cannot see that it matters much how you deal with me now. sooner or later, in one form or other, it must be death; and i thank god it can be no more." while a man might count twenty, the prior looked silently in that steadfast sorrowful young face. then he said,-- "my son, do not yield to despair; for i come to thee this day with a message of hope. i have also made intercession for thee with the supreme council of the holy office; and i have succeeded in obtaining from that august tribunal a great and unusual grace." carlos looked up, a sudden flush on his cheek. he hoped this unusual grace might be permission to see some familiar face ere he died; but the prior's next words disappointed him. alas! it was only the offer of escape from death on terms that he might not accept. and yet such an ofter really deserved the name the prior gave it--a great and unusual grace. for, as has been already intimated, by the laws of the inquisition at that time in force, the man who had _once_ professed heretical doctrines, however sincerely he might have retracted them, was doomed to die. his penitence would procure him the favour of absolution--the mercy of the garotte instead of the stake: that was all. the prior went on to explain to carlos, that upon the ground of his youth, and the supposition that he had been led into error by others, his judges had consented to show him singular favour. "moreover," he added, "there are other reasons for this course of action, upon which it would be needless, and might be inexpedient, to enter at present; but they have their weight, especially with me. for the preservation, therefore, both of your soul and your body--upon which i take more compassion than you do yourself--i have, in the first place, obtained permission to remove you to a more easy and more healthful confinement, where, besides other favours, you will enjoy the great privilege of a companion, constant intercourse with whom can scarcely fail to benefit you." carlos thought this last a doubtful boon; but as it was kindly intended, he was bound to be grateful. he thanked the prior accordingly; adding, "may i be permitted to ask the name of this companion?" "you will probably find out ere long, if you conduct yourself so as to deserve it,"--an answer carlos found so enigmatical, that after several vain endeavours to comprehend it, he gave up the task in despair, and not without some apprehension that his long imprisonment had dulled his perceptions. "amongst us he is called don juan," the prior continued. "and this much i will tell you. he is a very honourable person, who had many years ago the great misfortune to be led astray by the same errors to which you cling with such obstinacy. god was pleased, however, to make use of my poor instrumentality to lead him back to the bosom of the church. he is now a true and sincere penitent, diligent in prayer and penance, and heartily detesting his former evil ways. it is my last hope for you that his wise and faithful counsels may bring you to the same mind." carlos did not particularly like the prospect. he feared that this vaunted penitent would prove a noisy apostate, who would seek to obtain the favour of the monks by vilifying his former associates. nor, on the other hand, did he think it honest to accept without protest kindnesses offered him on the supposition that he might even yet be induced to recant. he said,-- "i ought to tell you, señor, that my mind will never change, god helping me. rather than lead you to imagine otherwise, i would go at once to the darkest cell in the triana. my faith is based on the word of god, which can never be overthrown." "the penitent of whom i speak used such words as these, until god and our lady opened his eyes. now he sees all things differently. so will you, if god is pleased to give you the inestimable benefit of his divine grace; for it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of god that showeth mercy," said the dominican, who, like others of his order, ingeniously managed to combine strong predestinarian theories with the creed of rome. "that is most true, señor," carlos responded. "but to resume," said the prior; "for i have yet more to say. should you be favoured with the grace of repentance, i am authorized to hold out to you a well-grounded hope, that, in consideration of your youth, your life may even yet be spared." "and then, if i were strong enough, i might live out ten or twenty years--like the last two," carlos answered, not without a touch of bitterness. "it is not so, my son," returned the prior mildly. "i cannot promise, indeed, under any circumstances, to restore you to the world. for that would be to promise what could not be performed; and the laws of the holy office expressly forbid us to delude prisoners with false hopes.[ ] but this much i will say, your restraint shall be rendered so light and easy, that your position will be preferable to that of many a monk, who has taken the vows of his own free will. and if you like the society of the penitent of whom i spoke anon, you shall continue to enjoy it." [ ] but these laws were often broken or evaded. carlos began to feel a somewhat unreasonable antipathy to this penitent, whose face he had never seen. but what mattered the antipathies of a prisoner of the holy office? he only said, "permit me again to thank you, my lord, for the kindness you have shown me. though my fellow-men cast out my name as evil, and deny me my share of god's free air and sky, and my right to live in his world, i still take thankfully every word or deed of pity and gentleness they give me by the way. for they know not what they do." the prior turned away, but turned back again a moment afterwards, to ask--what for the credit of his humanity he ought to have asked a year before--"do you stand in need of any thing? or have you any request you wish to make?" carlos hesitated a moment. then he said, "of things within your power to grant, my lord, there is but one that i care to ask. two brethren of the society of jesus visited me the day before yesterday. i spoke hastily to one of them, who was named fray isodor, i think. had i the opportunity, i should be glad to offer him my hand." "now, of all mysterious things in heaven or earth," said the prior, "a heretic's conscience is the most difficult to comprehend. truly you strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. but as for fray isodor, you may rest content. for good and sufficient reasons, he cannot visit you here. but i will repeat to him what you have said. and i know well that his own tongue is a sharp weapon enough when used in the defence of the faith." the prior withdrew; and shortly afterwards one of the monks appeared, and silently conducted carlos to a cell, or chamber, in the highest story of the building. like the cells in the triana, it had two doors--the outer one secured by strong bolts and bars, the inner one furnished with an aperture through which food or other things could be passed. but here the resemblance ceased. carlos found himself, on entering, in what seemed to him more like a hall than a cell; though, indeed, it must be remembered that his eye was accustomed to ten feet square. it was furnished as comfortably as any room needed to be in that warm climate; and it was tolerably clean, a small mercy which he noted with no small gratitude. best perhaps of all, it had a good window, looking down on the courtyard, but strongly barred, of course. near the window was a table, upon which stood an ivory crucifix, and a picture of the madonna and child. but even before his eye took in all these objects, it turned to the penitent, whose companionship had been granted him as so great a boon. he was utterly unlike all that he had expected. instead of a fussy, noisy pervert, he saw a serene and stately old man, with long white hair and beard, and still, clearly chiselled, handsome features. he was dressed in a kind of mantle, of a nondescript colour, made like a monk's cowl without the hood, and bearing two large st. andrew's crosses, one on the breast and the other on the back; in fact, it was a compromised sanbenito. as carlos entered, he rose (showing a tall, spare figure, slightly stooped), and greeted his new companion with a courteous and elaborate bow, but did not speak. shortly afterwards, food was handed through the aperture in the door; and the half-starved prisoner from the triana sat down with his fellow-captive to what he esteemed a really luxurious repast. he had intended to be silent until obliged to speak, but the aspect and bearing of the penitent quite disarranged his preconceived ideas. during the meal, he tried once and again to open a conversation by some slight courteous observation. all in vain. the penitent did the honours of the table like a prince in disguise, and never failed to bow and answer, "yes, señor," or "no, señor," to everything carlos said. but he seemed either unable or unwilling to do more. as the day wore on, this silence grew oppressive to carlos; and he marvelled increasingly at his companion's want of ordinary interest in him, or curiosity about him. until at length a probable solution of the mystery dawned upon his mind. as he considered the penitent an agent of the monks deputed to convert him, very likely the penitent, on his side, regarded _him_ in the light of a spy commissioned to watch his proceedings. but this, if it was true at all, was only a small part of the truth. carlos failed to take into account the terrible effect of long years of solitude, crushing down all the faculties of the mind and heart. it is told of some monastery, where the rules were so severe that the brethren were only allowed to converse with each other during one hour in the week, that they usually sat for that hour in perfect silence: they had nothing to say. so it was with the penitent of the dominican convent. he had nothing to say, nothing to ask; curiosity and interest were dead within him--dead long ago, of absolute starvation. yet carlos could not help observing him with a strange kind of fascination. his face was too still, too coldly calm, like a white marble statue; and yet it was a noble face. it was, although not a thoughtful face, the face of a thoughtful man asleep. it did not lack expressiveness, though it lacked expression. moreover, there was in it a look that awakened dim, undefined memories--shadowy things, that fled away like ghosts whenever he tried to grasp them, yet persistently rose again, and mingled with all his thoughts. he told himself many times that he had never seen the man before. was it, then, an accidental likeness to some familiar face that so fixed and haunted him? certainly there was something which belonged to his past, and which, even while it perplexed and baffled, strangely soothed and pleased him. at each of the canonical hours (which were announced to them by the tolling of the convent bells), the penitent did not fail to kneel before the crucifix, and, with the aid of a book and a rosary, to read or repeat long latin prayers, in a half audible voice. he retired to rest early, leaving his fellow-prisoner supremely happy in the enjoyment of his lamp and his book of hours. for it was two years since the eyes of the once enthusiastic young scholar had rested on a printed page, or since the kindly gleam of lamp or fire had cheered his solitude. the privilege of refreshing his memory with the passages of scripture contained in the romish book of devotion now appeared an unspeakable boon to him. and although, accustomed as he was to a life of unbroken monotony, the varied impressions of the day had produced extreme weariness of mind and body, it was near midnight before he could prevail upon himself to close the volume, and lie down to rest on the comfortable pallet prepared for him. he was just falling asleep, when the midnight bell tolled out heavily. he saw his companion rise, throw his mantle over his shoulders, and betake himself to his devotions. how long these lasted he could not tell, for the stately kneeling figure soon mingled with his dreams--strange dreams of juan as a penitent, dressed in a sanbenito, and with white hair and an old man's face, kneeling devoutly before the altar in the church at nuera, but reciting one of the songs of the cid instead of _de profundis_. xli. more about the penitent. "ay, thus thy mother looked, with such a sad, yet half-triumphant smile, all radiant with deep meaning." hemans. a slight incident, that occurred the following morning, partially broke down the barrier of reserve between the two prisoners. after his early devotions, the penitent laid aside his mantle, took up a besom made of long slips of cane, and proceeded, with great deliberation and gravity, to sweep out the room. the contrast that his stately figure, his noble air, and the dignity of all his movements, offered to the menial occupation in which he was engaged, was far too pathetic to be ludicrous. carlos could not but think that he wielded the lowly implement as if it were a chamberlain's staff of office, or a grand marshal's baton. he himself was well accustomed to such tasks; for every prisoner of the santa casa, no matter what his rank might be, was his own servant. and it spoke much for the revolution that had taken place in his ideas and feelings, that though taught to look on all servile occupations as ineffably degrading, he had never associated a thought of degradation with anything laid upon him to do or to suffer as the prisoner of christ. and yet he could not endure to see his aged and stately fellow-prisoner thus occupied. he rose immediately, and earnestly entreated to be allowed to relieve him of the task, pleading that all such duties ought to devolve on him as the younger. at first the penitent resisted, saying that it was part of his penance. but when carlos continued to urge the point, he yielded; perhaps the more readily because his will, like his other faculties, was weakened for want of exercise. then, with more apparent interest than he had shown in any of his previous proceedings, he watched the rather slow and difficult movements of his young companion. "you are lame, señor," he said, a little abruptly, when carlos, having finished his work, sat down to rest. "from the pulley," carlos answered quietly; and then his face beamed with a sudden smile, for the secret of the lord was with him, and he tasted the sweet, strange joy that springs out of suffering borne for him. that look was the wire that drew an electric flash of memory from the clouds that veiled the old man's soul. what that sudden flash revealed was a castle gate, at which stood a stately yet slender form robed in silk. in the fair young face tears and smiles were contending; but a smile won the victory, as a little child was held up, and made to kiss a baby-hand in farewell to its father. in a moment all was gone; only a vague trouble and uneasiness remained, accompanied by that strange sense of having seen or felt just the same thing before, with which we are most of us familiar. accustomed to solitude, the penitent spoke aloud, perchance unconsciously. "why did they bring you here?" he said, in a half fretful tone. "you hurt me. i have done very well alone all these years." "i am sorry to incommode you, señor," returned carlos. "but i did not come here of my own will; neither, unhappily, can i go. i am a prisoner like yourself; but, unlike you, i am a prisoner under sentence of death." for several minutes the penitent did not answer. then he rose, and taking a step or two towards the place where carlos sat, gravely extended his hand. "i fear i have spoken uncourteously," he said. "so many years have passed since i have conversed with my fellows, that i have well-nigh forgotten how i ought to address them. do me the favour, señor and my brother, to grant me your pardon." carlos warmly assured him no offence had been given; and taking the offered hand, he pressed it reverently to his lips. from that moment he loved his fellow-prisoner in his heart. there was an interval of silence, then the penitent of his own accord resumed the conversation. "did i hear you say you are under sentence of death?" he asked. "i am so actually, though not formally," carlos replied. "in the language of the holy office, i am a professed impenitent heretic." "and you so young!" "to be a heretic?" "no; i meant so young to die." "do i look young--even yet? i should not have thought it. to me the last two years seem like a long lifetime." "have you been two years, then, in prison? poor boy! yet i have been here ten, fifteen, twenty years--i cannot tell how many. i have lost the account of them." carlos sighed. and such a life was before him, should he be weak enough to surrender his hope. he said, "do you really think, señor, that these long years of lonely suffering are less hard to bear than a speedy though violent death?" "i do not think it matters, as to that," was the penitent's not very apposite reply. in fact, his mind was not capable, at the time, of dealing with such a question; so he turned from it instinctively. but in the meantime he was remembering, every moment more and more clearly, that a duty had been laid upon him by the authority to which his soul held itself in absolute subjection. and that duty had reference to his fellow-prisoner. "i am commanded," he said at last, "to counsel you to seek the salvation of your soul, by returning to the bosom of the one true catholic and apostolic church, out of which there is no peace and no salvation." carlos saw that he spoke by rote; that his words echoed the thought of another, not his own. it seemed to him, under the circumstances, scarcely generous to argue. he spared to put forth his mental powers against the aged and broken man, as juan in like case would have spared to use his strong right arm. after a moment's thought, he replied,-- "may i ask of your courtesy, señor and my father, to bear with me for a little while, that i may frankly disclose to you my real belief?" appeal could never be made in vain to that penitent's courtesy. no heresy, that could have been proposed, would have shocked him half so much as the supposition that one castilian gentleman could be uncourteous to another, upon any account. "do me the favour to state your opinions, señor," he responded, with a bow, "and i will honour myself by giving them my best attention." carlos was little used to language such as this. it induced him to speak his mind more freely than he had been able to do for the last two years. but, mindful of his experience with old father bernardo at san isodro, he did not speak of doctrines, he spoke of a person. in words simple enough for a child to understand, but with a heart glowing with faith and love, he told of what he was when he walked on earth, of what he is at the right hand of the father, of what he has done and is doing still for every soul that trusts him. certainly the faded eye brightened; and something like a look of interest began to dawn in the mournfully still and passive countenance. for a time carlos was aware that his listener followed every word, and he spoke slowly, on purpose to allow him so to do. but then there came a change. the _listening_ look passed out of the eyes; and yet they did not wander once from the speaker's face. the expression of the whole countenance was gradually altered, from one of rather painful attention to the dreamy look of a man who hears sweet music, and gives free course to the emotions it is calculated to awaken. in truth, the voice of carlos _was_ sweet music in his fellow-captive's ear; and he would willingly have sat thus for ever, gazing at him and enjoying it. carlos thought that if this was their reverences' idea of "a satisfactory penitent," they were not difficult to satisfy. and he marvelled increasingly that so astute a man as the dominican prior should have put the task of his conversion into such hands. for the piety so lauded in the penitent appeared to him mere passiveness--the submission of a soul out of which all resisting forces had been crushed. "it is only life that resists," he thought; "the dead they can move whithersoever they will." intolerance always sets a premium on mental stagnation. nay, it actually produces it; it "makes a desert, and calls it peace." and what the inquisition did for the penitent, that it has done also for the penitent's fair fatherland. was the resurrection of dead and buried faculties possible for _him_? is such a resurrection possible for _it_? and yet, in spite of the deadness of heart and brain, which he doubted not was the result of cruel suffering, carlos loved his fellow-prisoner every hour more and more. he could not tell why; he only knew that "his soul was knit" to his. when carlos, for fear of fatiguing him, brought his explanations to a close, both relapsed into silence; and the remainder of the day passed without much further conversation, but with a constant interchange of little kindnesses and courtesies. the first sight that greeted the eyes of carlos when he awoke the next morning, was that of the penitent kneeling before the pictured madonna, his lips motionless, his hands crossed on his breast, and his face far more earnest with feeling--it might be thought with devotion--than he had ever seen it yet. carlos was moved, but saddened. it grieved him sore that his aged fellow-prisoner should pour out the last costly libation of love and trust left in his desolated heart before the shrine of that which was no god. and a great longing awoke within him to lead back this weary and heavy-laden one to the only being who could give him true rest. "if, indeed, he is one of god's chosen, of his loved and redeemed ones, he will be led back," thought carlos, who had spent the past two years in thinking out many things for himself. certain aspects of truth, which may be either strong cordials or rank poisons, as they are used, had grown gradually clear to him. opposed to the dominican prior upon most subjects, he was at one with him upon that of predestination. for he had need to be assured, when the great water floods prevailed, that the chain which kept him from drifting away with them was a strong one. and therefore he had followed it up, link by link, until he came at last to that eternal purpose of god in which it was fast anchored. since the day that he first learned it, he had lived in the light of that great centre truth, "i have loved thee"--_thee_ individually. but as he lay in the gloomy prison, sentenced to die, something more was revealed to him. "i have loved thee _with an everlasting love, therefore_ with loving-kindness have i drawn thee." the value of this truth, to him as to others, lay in the double aspect of that word "everlasting;" its look forward to the boundless future, as well as backward on the mysterious past. the one was a pledge and assurance of the other. and now he was taking to his heart the comfort it gave, for the penitent as well as for himself. but it made him, not less, but more anxious to be god's fellow-worker in bringing him back to the truth. in the meantime, however, he was quite mistaken as to the feelings with which the old man knelt before the pictured virgin and child. his heart was stirred by no mystic devotion to the queen of heaven, but by some very human feelings, which had long lain dormant, but which were now being gradually awakened there. he was thinking not of heaven, but of earth, and of "earth's warm beating joy and dole." and what attracted him to that spot was only the representation of womanhood and childhood, recalling, though far off and faintly, the fair young wife and babe from whom he had been cruelly torn years and years ago. a little later, as the two prisoners sat over the bread and fruit that formed their morning meal, the penitent began to speak more frankly than he had done before. "i was quite afraid of you, señor, when you first came," he said. "and perhaps i was not guiltless of the same feeling towards you," carlos answered. "it is no marvel. companions in sorrow, such as we are, have great power either to help or to hurt one another." "you may truly say that," returned the penitent. "in fact, i once suffered so cruelly from the treachery of a fellow-prisoner, that it is not unnatural i should be suspicious." "how was that, señor?" "it was very long ago, soon after my arrest. and yet, not soon. for weary months of darkness and solitude, i cannot tell how many, i held out--i mean to say, i continued impenitent." "did you?" asked carlos with interest. "i thought as much." "do not think ill of me, i entreat of you, señor," said the penitent anxiously. "i am _reconciled_. i have returned to the bosom of the true church, and i belong to her. i have confessed and received absolution. i have even had the holy sacrament; and if ill, or in danger of death, it is promised i shall receive 'su majestad'[ ] at any time. and i have abjured and detested all the heresies i learned from de valero." [ ] "his majesty," the ordinary term applied by spaniards to the host. "from de valero! did you learn from him?" the pale cheek of carlos crimsoned for a moment, then grew paler than before. "tell me, señor, if i may ask it, how long have you been here?" "that is just what i cannot tell. the first year stands out clearly; but all the after years are like a dream to me. it was in that first year that the caitiff i spoke of anon, who was imprisoned with me--you observe, señor, i had already asked for reconciliation. it was promised me. i was to perform penance; to be forgiven; to have my freedom. _pues_, señor, i spoke to that man as i might to you, freely and from my heart. for i supposed him a gentleman. i dared to say that their reverences had dealt somewhat hardly with me, and the like. idle words, no doubt--idle and wicked. god knows, i have had time enough to repent them since. for that man, my fellow-prisoner, he who knew what prison was, went forth straightway and delated me to the lords inquisitors for those idle words--god in heaven forgive him! and thus the door was shut upon me--shut--shut for ever. ay de mi! ay de mi!" carlos heard but little of this speech. he was gazing at him with eager, kindling eyes. "were there left behind in the world any that it wrung your heart to part from?" he asked, in a trembling voice. "there were. and since you came, their looks have never ceased to haunt me. why, i know not. my wife, my child!" and the old man shaded his face, while in his eyes, long unused to tears, there rose a mist, like the cloud in form as a man's hand, that foretold the approach of the beneficent rain, which should refresh and soften the thirsty soil, making all things young again. "señor," said carlos, trying to speak calmly, and to keep down the wild tumultuous throbbing of his heart--"señor, a boon, i entreat of you. tell me the name you bore amongst men. it was a noble one, i know." "true. they promised to save it from disgrace. but it was part of my penance not to utter it; if possible, to forget it." "yet, this once. i do not ask idly--this once--have pity on me, and speak it," pleaded carlos, with intense tremulous earnestness. "your face and your voice move me strangely; it seems to me that i could not deny you anything. i am--i ought to say, i _was_--don juan alvarez de santillanos y meñaya." before the sentence was concluded, carlos lay senseless at his feet. xlii. quiet days. "i think that by-and-by all things which were perplexed a while ago and life's long, vain conjecturings, will simple, calm, and quiet grow. already round about me, some august and solemn sunset seems deep sleeping in a dewy dome, and bending o'er a world of dreams." owen meredith. the penitent laid carlos gently on his pallet (he still possessed a measure of physical strength, and the worn frame was easy to lift); then he knocked loudly on the door for help, as he had been instructed to do in any case of need. but no one heard, or at least no one heeded him, which was not remarkable, since during more than twenty years he had not, on a single occasion, thus summoned his gaolers. then, in utter ignorance what next to do, and in very great distress, he bent over his young companion, helplessly wringing his hands. carlos stirred at last, and murmured, "where am i? what is it?" but even before full consciousness returned, there came the sense, taught by the bitter experience of the last two years, that he must look within for aid--he could expect none from any fellow-creature. he tried to recollect himself. some bewildering, awful joy had fallen upon him, striking him to the earth. was he free? was he permitted to see juan? slowly, very slowly, all grew clear to him. he half raised himself, grasped the penitent's hand, and cried aloud, "_my father!_" "are you better, señor?" asked the old man with solicitude. "do me the favour to drink this wine." "father, my father! i am your son. i am carlos alvarez de santillanos y meñaya. do you not understand me, father?" "i do not understand you, señor," said the penitent, moving a little away from him, with a mixture of dignified courtesy and utter amazement in his manner strange to behold. "who is it that i have the honour to address?" "o my father, i am your son--your very son carlos." "i have never seen you till--ere yesterday." "that is quite true; and yet--" "nay, nay," interrupted the old man; "you are speaking wild words to me. i had but one boy--juan--juan rodrigo. the heir of the house of alvarez de meñaya was always called juan." "he lives. he is captain don juan now, the bravest soldier, and the best, truest-hearted man on earth. how you would love him! would you could see him face to face! yet no; thank god you cannot." "my babe a captain in his imperial majesty's army!" said don juan, in whose thoughts the great emperor was reigning still. "and i," carlos continued, in a broken, agitated voice--"i, born when they thought you dead--i, who opened my young eyes on this sad world the day god took my mother home from all its sin and sorrow--i am brought here, in his mysterious providence, to comfort you, after your long dreary years of suffering." "your mother! did you say your mother? my wife, _costanza mia_. oh, let me see your face!" carlos raised himself to a kneeling attitude, and the old man laid his hand on his shoulder, and gazed at him long and earnestly. at length carlos removed the hand, and drawing it gently upwards, placed it on his head. "father," he said, "you will love your son? you will bless him, will you not? he has dwelt long amongst those who hated him, and never spoke to him save in wrath and scorn, and his heart pines for human love and tenderness." don juan did not answer for a while; but he ran his fingers through the soft fine hair. "so like hers," he murmured dreamily. "thine eyes are hers too--_zarca_.[ ] yes, yes; i do bless thee--but who am i to bless? god bless thee, my son!" [ ] blue; a word applied by the spaniards only to blue eyes. in the long, long silence that followed, the great convent bell rang out. it was noon. for the first time for twenty years the penitent did not hear that sound. carlos heard it, however. agitated as he was, he yet feared the consequences that might follow should the penitent omit any part of the penance he was bound by oath to perform. so he gently reminded him of it. "father--(how strangely sweet the name sounded!)--"father, at this hour you always recite the penitential psalms. when you have finished, we will talk together. i have ten thousand things to tell you." with the silent, unreasoning submission that had become a part of his nature, the penitent obeyed; and, going to his usual station before the crucifix, began his monotonous task. the fresh life newly awakened in his heart and brain was far from being strong enough, as yet, to burst the bonds of habit. and this was well. those bonds were his safeguard; but for their wholesome restraint, mind or body, or both, might have been shattered by the tumultuous rush of new thoughts and feelings. but the familiar latin words, repeated without thought, almost without consciousness, soothed the weary brain like a slumber. meanwhile, carlos thanked god with a full heart. here, then--_here_, in the dark prison, the very abode of misery--had god given him the desire of his heart, fulfilled the longing of his early years. now the wilderness and the solitary place were glad; the desert rejoiced and blossomed as the rose. now his life seemed complete, its end answering its beginning; all its meaning lying clear and plain before him. he was satisfied. "ruy, ruy, i have found our father!--oh, that i could but tell thee, my ruy!"--was the cry of his heart, though he forced his lips to silence. nor could the tears of joy, that sprang unbidden to his eyes, be permitted to overflow, since they might perplex and trouble his fellow-captive--_his father_. he had still a task to perform; and to that task his mind soon bent itself; perhaps instinctively taking refuge in practical detail from emotions that might otherwise have proved too strong for his weakened frame. he set himself to consider how best he could revive the past, and make the present comprehensible to the aged and broken man, without overpowering or bewildering him. he planned to tell him, in the first instance, all that he could about nuera. and this he accomplished gradually, as he was able to bear the strain of conversation. he talked of dolores and diego; described both the exterior and interior of the castle; in fact, made him see again the scenes to which his eye had been accustomed in past days. with special minuteness did he picture the little room within the hall, both because it was less changed since his father's time than the others, and because it had been his favourite apartment. "and on the window," he said, "there were some words, written with a diamond, doubtless by your hand, my father. my brother and i used to read them in our childhood; we loved them, and dreamed many a wondrous dream about them. do you not remember them?" but the old man shook his head. then carlos began,-- "'el dorado--'" "'yo hé trovado.' yes, i remember now," said don juan promptly. "and the golden country you had discovered--was it not the truth as revealed in scripture?" asked carlos, perhaps a little too eagerly. the penitent mused a space; grew bewildered; said at last sorrowfully, "i know not. i cannot now recall what moved me to write those lines, or even when i wrote them." in the next place, carlos ventured to tell all he had heard from dolores about his mother. the fact of his wife's death had been communicated to the prisoner; but this was the only fragment of intelligence about his family that had reached him during all these years. when she was spoken of, he showed emotion, slight in the beginning, but increasing at every succeeding mention of her name, until carlos, who had at first been glad to find that the slumbering chords of feeling responded to his touch, came at last to dread laying his hands upon them, they were apt to moan so piteously. and once and again did his father say, gazing at him with ever-increasing fondness, "thy face is hers, risen anew before me." carlos tried hard to awaken don juan's interest in his first-born. it is true that he cherished an almost passionate love for juanito the babe, but it was such a love as we feel for children whom god has taken to himself in infancy. juan the youth, juan the man, seemed to him a stranger, difficult to conceive of or to care about. yet, in time, carlos did succeed in establishing a bond between the long-imprisoned father and the brave, noble, free-hearted son, who was so like what that father had been in his early manhood. he was never weary of telling of juan's courage, juan's truthfulness, juan's generosity; often concluding with the words, "_he_ would have been your favourite son, had you known him, my father." as time wore on, he won from his father's lips the principal facts of his own story. his past was like a picture from which the colouring, once bright and varied, has faded away, leaving only the bare outlines of fact, and here and there the shadows of pain still faintly visible. what he remembered, that he told his son; but gradually, and often in very disjointed fragments, which carlos carefully pieced together in his thoughts, until he formed out of them a tolerably connected whole. just three-and-twenty years before, on his arrival in seville, in obedience to what he believed to be a summons from the emperor, the conde de nuera had been arrested and thrown into the secret dungeons of the inquisition. he well knew his offence: he had been the friend and associate of de valero; he had read and studied the scriptures; he had even advocated, in the presence of several witnesses, the doctrine of justification by faith alone. nor was he unprepared to pay the terrible penalty. had he, at the time of his arrest, been led at once to the rack or the stake, it is probable he would have suffered with a constancy that might have placed his name beside that of the most heroic martyrs. but he was allowed to wear out long months in suspense and solitude, and in what his eager spirit found even harder to bear, absolute inaction. excitement, motion, stirring occupation for mind and body, had all his life been a necessity to him. in the absence of these he pined--grew melancholy, listless, morbid. his faith was genuine, and would have been strong enough to enable him for anything _in the line of his character_; but it failed under trials purposely and sedulously contrived to assail that character through its weak points. when already worn out with dreary imprisonment, he was beset by arguments, clever, ingenious, sophistical, framed by men who made argument the business of their lives. thus attacked, he was like a brave but unskilful man fencing with adepts in the noble science. he _knew_ he was right; and with the vulgate in his hand, he thought he could have proved it. but they assured him they proved the contrary; nor could he detect a flaw in their syllogisms when he came to examine them. if not convinced, then surely he ought to have been. they conjured him not to let pride and vain-glory seduce him into self-opinionated obstinacy, but to submit his private judgment to that of the holy catholic church. and they promised that he should go forth free, only chastised by a suitable and not disgraceful penance, and by a pecuniary fine. the hope of freedom burned in his heart like fire; and by this time there was sufficient confusion in his brain for his will to find arguments there against the voice of his conscience. so he yielded, though not without conflict, fierce and bitter. his retractation was drawn up in as mild a form as possible by the inquisitors, and duly signed by him. no public act of penance was required, as strict secrecy was to be observed in the whole transaction. but the inquisitor-general, valdez, felt a well-grounded distrust of the penitent's sincerity, which was quickened perhaps by a desire to appropriate to the use of the holy office a larger share of his possessions than the moderate fine alluded to. probably, too, he dreaded the disclosures that might have followed had the count been restored to the world. he had recourse, therefore, to an artifice often employed by the inquisitors, and seriously recommended by their standard authorities. the "fly" (for such traitors were common enough to have a technical name as well as a recognized existence) reported that the conde de nuera railed at the holy office, blasphemed the catholic faith, and still adhered in his heart to all his abominable heresies. the result was a sentence of perpetual imprisonment. don juan's condition was truly pitiable then. like samson, he was shorn of the locks in which his strength lay, bound hand and foot, and delivered over to his enemies. because he could not bear perpetual imprisonment he had renounced his faith, and denied his lord. and now, without the faith he had renounced, without the lord he had denied, he _must_ bear it. it told upon him as it would have told on nine men out of ten, perhaps on ninety-nine out of a hundred. his mind lost its activity, its vigour, its tone. it became, in time, almost a passive instrument in the hands of others. and then the dominican monk, fray ricardo, brought his powerful intellect and his strong will to bear upon him. he had been sent by his superiors (he was not prior until long afterwards) to impart the terrible story of her husband's arrest to the lady of nuera, with secret instructions to ascertain whether her own faith had been tampered with. in his fanatical zeal he performed a cruel task cruelly. but he had a conscience, and its fault was not insensibility. when he heard the tale of the lady's death, a few days after his visit, he was profoundly affected. accustomed, however, to a religion of weights and balances, it came naturally to him to set one thing against another, by way of making the scales even. if he could be the means of saving the husband's soul, he would feel, to say the least, much more comfortable about his conduct to the wife. he spared no pains upon the task he had set himself; and a measure of success crowned his efforts. having first reduced the mind of the penitent to a cold, blank calm, agitated by no wave of restless thought or feeling, he had at length the delight of seeing his own image reflected there, as in a mirror. he mistook that spectral reflection for a reality, and great was his triumph when, day by day, he saw it move responsive to every motion of his own. but the arrest of his penitent's son broke in upon his self-satisfaction. it seemed as though a dark doom hung over the family, which even the father's repentance was powerless to avert. he wished to save the youth, and he had tried to do it after his fashion; but his efforts only resulted in bringing up before him the pale accusing face of the lady of nuera, and in interesting him more than he cared to acknowledge in the impenitent heretic, who seemed to him such a strange mixture of gentleness and obstinacy. surely the father's influence would prevail with the son, originally a much less courageous and determined character, and now already wrought upon by a long period of loneliness and suffering. perhaps also--monk, fanatic, and inquisitor though he was--the pleasantness of trying the experiment, and cheering thereby the last days of the pious and docile penitent, his own especial convert, weighed a little with him; for he was still a man. moreover, like many hard men, he was capable of great kindness towards those whom he liked. and, with the full approbation of his conscience, he liked his penitent; whilst, rather in spite of his conscience, he liked his penitent's son. carlos did not trouble himself over-much about the prior's motives. he was too content in his new-found joy, too engrossed in his absorbing task--the concern and occupation of his every hour, almost of his every moment. he was as one who toils patiently to clear away the moss and lichen that has grown over a memorial stone; that he may bring out once more, in all their freshness, the precious words engraven upon it. the inscription was there, and there it had been always (so he told himself); all that he had to do was to remove that which covered and obscured it. he had his reward. life returned, first through love for him, to the heart; then, through the heart, to the brain. not rapidly and with tingling pain, as it returns to a frozen limb, but gradually and insensibly, as it comes to the dry trees in spring. but, in the trees, life shows itself first in the extremities; it is slowest in appearing in those parts which are really nearest the sources of all life. so the penitent's interest in other subjects, and his care for them, revived; yet in one thing, the greatest of all, these seemed lacking still. there did _not_ return the spiritual light and life, which carlos could not doubt he had enjoyed in past days. sometimes, it is true, he would startle his son by unexpected reminiscences, disjointed fragments of the truth for which he had suffered so much. he would occasionally interrupt carlos, when he was repeating to him passages from the testament, to tell him "something don rodrigo said about that, when he expounded the epistle to the romans." but these were only like the rich flowers that surprise the explorer amidst the tangled weeds of a waste ground, showing that a carefully tended garden has flourished there once--very long ago. "it is not that i desire him above all things to hold this doctrine or that," thought carlos; "i desire him to find christ again, and to rejoice in his love, as doubtless he did in the old days. and surely he will, since christ found him--chose him for his own even before the foundation of the world." but in order to bring this about, perhaps it was necessary that the faded colours of his soul should be steeped in the strong and bitter waters of a great agony, that they might regain thereby their full freshness. xliii. el dorado found again. "and every power was used, and every art, to bend to falsehood one determined heart; assailed, in patience it received the shock, soft as the wave, unbroken as the rock." crabbe. what are you doing, my father?" carlos asked one morning. don juan had produced from some private receptacle a small ink-horn, and was moistening its long-dried contents with water. "i was thinking that i should like to write down somewhat," he said. "but whereto will ink serve us without pen and paper?" the penitent smiled; and presently pulled out from within his pallet a little faded writing-book, and a pen that looked--what it was--more than twenty years old. "long ago," he said, "i used to be weary, weary of sitting idle all the day; so i bribed one of the lay brothers with my last ducat to bring me this, only that i might set down therein whatever happened, for pastime." "may i read it, my father?" "and welcome, if thou wilt;" and he gave the book into the hand of his son. "at first, as you see, there be many things written therein. i cannot tell what they are now; i have forgotten them all;--but i suppose i thought them, or felt them--once. or sometimes the brethren would come to visit me, and talk, and afterwards i would write what they said. but by degrees i set down less and less in it. many days passed in which i wrote nothing, because nothing was to write. nothing ever happened." carlos was soon absorbed in the perusal of the little book. the records of his father's earlier prison life he scanned with great interest and with deep emotion; but coming rather suddenly upon the last entry, he could not forbear a smile. he read aloud: "'a feast day. had a capon for dinner, and a measure of red wine.'" "did i not judge well," asked the father, "that it was time to give over writing, when i could stoop low enough to record such trifles? yes; i think i can recall the bitterness of heart with which i laid the book aside. i despised myself for what i wrote therein; and yet i had nothing else to write--would never have anything else, i thought. but now god has given me my son. i will write that down." looking up, after a little while, from his self-imposed task, he asked, with an air of perplexity,-- "but when was it? how long is it since you came here, carlos?" carlos in his turn was perplexed. the quiet days had glided on swiftly and noiselessly, leaving no trace behind. "to me it seems to have been all one long sabbath," he said. "but let me think. the summer heats had not come; i suppose it must have been march or april--april, perhaps. i remember thinking i had been just two years in prison." "and now it is growing cool again. i suppose it may have been four months--six months ago. what think you?" carlos thought it nearer the latter period than the former. "i believe we have been visited six times by the brethren," he said. "no; only five times." these visits of inspection had been made by command of the prior--himself absent from seville on important business during most of the time--and the result had been duly reported to him. the monks to whom the duty had been deputed were aged and respectable members of the community; in fact, the only persons in the monastery who were acquainted with don juan's real name and history. it was their opinion that matters were progressing favourably with the prisoners. they found the penitent as usual--docile, obedient, submissive, only more inclined to converse than formerly; and they thought the young man very gentle and courteous, grateful for the smallest kindness, and ready to listen attentively, and with apparent interest, to everything that was said. for more definite results the prior was content to wait: he had great faith in waiting. still, even to him six months seemed long enough for the experiment he was trying. at the end of that time--which happened to be the day after the conversation just related--he himself made a visit to the prisoners. both most warmly expressed their gratitude for the singular grace he had shown them. carlos, whose health had greatly improved, said that he had not dreamed so much earthly happiness could remain for him still. "then, my son," said the prior, "give evidence of thy gratitude in the only way possible to thee, or acceptable to me. do not reject the mercy still offered thee by holy church. ask for reconciliation." "my lord," replied carlos, firmly, "i can but repeat what i told you six months agone--that is impossible." the prior argued, expostulated, threatened--in vain. at length he reminded carlos that he was already condemned to death--the death of fire; and that he was now putting from him his last chance of mercy. but when he still remained steadfast, he turned away from him with an air of deep disappointment, though more in sorrow than in anger, as one pained by keen and unexpected ingratitude. "i speak to thee no more," he said. "i believe there is in thy father's heart some little spark, not only of natural feeling, but of the grace of god. i address myself to him." whether don juan had never fully comprehended the statement of carlos that he was under sentence of death, or whether the tide of emotion caused by finding in him his own son had swept the terrible fact from his remembrance, it is impossible to say; but it certainly came to him, from the lips of the prior, as a dreadful, unexpected blow. so keen was his anguish that fray ricardo himself was moved; and the rather, because it was impossible to the aged and broken man to maintain the outward self-restraint a younger and stronger person might have done. more touched, at the moment, by his father's condition than by all the horrors that menaced himself, carlos came to his side, and gently tried to soothe him. "cease!" said the prior, sternly. "it is but mockery to pretend sympathy with the sorrow thine own obstinacy has caused. if in truth thou lovest him, save him this cruel pain. for three days still," he added, "the door of grace shall stand open to thee. after that term has expired, i dare not promise thy life." then turning to the agitated father--"if _you_ can make this unhappy youth hear the voice of divine and human compassion," he said, "you will save both his body and his soul alive. you know how to send me a message. god comfort you, and incline his heart to repentance." and with these words he departed, leaving carlos to undergo the sharpest trial that had come upon him since his imprisonment. all that day, and the greater part of the night that followed it, the two wills strove together. prayers, tears, entreaties, seemed to the agonized father to fall on the strong heart of his son like drops of rain on the rock. he did not know that all the time they were falling on that heart like sparks of living fire; for carlos, once so weak, had learned now to endure pain, both of mind and body, with brow and lip that "gave no sign." passing tender was the love that had sprung up between those two, so strangely brought together. and now carlos, by his own act, must sever that sweet bond--must leave his newly-found father in a solitude doubly terrible, where the feeble lamp of his life would soon go out in obscure darkness. was not this bitterness enough, without the anguish of seeing that father bow his white head before him, and teach his aged lips words of broken, passionate entreaty that his son--his one earthly treasure--would not forsake him thus? "my father," carlos said at last, as they sat together in the moonlight, for their light had gone out unheeded--"my father, you have often told me that my face is like my mother's." "ay de mi!" moaned the penitent--"and truly it is. is that why it must leave me as hers did? ay de mi, costanza mia! ay de mi, my son!" "father, tell me, i pray you, to escape what anguish of mind or body would you set your seal to a falsehood told to her dishonour?" "boy, how can you ask? never!--nothing could force me to that." and from the faded eye there shot a gleam almost like the fire of old days. "father, there is one i love better than ever you loved her. not to save myself, not even to save you, from this bitter pain, can i deny him or dishonour his name. father, i cannot!--though this is worse than the torture," he added. the anguish of the last words pierced to the very core of the old man's heart. he said no more; but he covered his face, and wept long and passionately, as a man weeps whose heart is broken, and who has no longer any power left him to struggle against his doom. their last meal lay untasted. some wine had formed part of it; and this carlos now brought, and, with a few gentle, loving words, offered to his father. don juan put it aside, but drew his son closer, and looked at him in the moonlight long and earnestly. "how can i give thee up?" he murmured. as carlos tried to return his gaze, it flashed for the first time across his mind that his father was changed. he looked older, feebler, more wan than he had done at his coming. was the newly-awakened spirit wearing out the body? he said,-- "it may be, my father, that god will not call you to the trial. perhaps months may elapse before they arrange another auto." how calmly he could speak of it;--for he had forgotten himself. courage, with him, always had its root in self-forgetting love. don juan caught at the gleam of hope, though not exactly as carlos intended. "ay, truly," he said, "many things may happen before then." "and nothing _can_ happen save at the will of him who loves and cares for us. let us trust him, my beloved father. he will not allow us to be tempted above that we are able to bear. for he is good--oh, how good!--to the soul that seeketh him. long ago i believed that; but since he has honoured me to suffer for him, once and again have i proved it true, true as life or death. father, i once thought the strongest thing on earth--that which reached deepest into our nature--was pain. but i have lived to learn that his love is stronger, his peace is deeper, than all pain." with many such words--words of faith, and hope, and tenderness--did he soothe his weary, broken-hearted father. and at last, though not till towards morning, he succeeded in inducing him to lie down and seek the rest he so sorely needed. then came his own hour; the hour of bitter, lonely conflict. he had grown accustomed to the thought, to the _expectation_, of a silent, peaceful death within the prison walls. he had hoped, nay, certainly believed, that in the slow hours of some quiet day or night, undistinguished from other days and nights, god's messenger would steal noiselessly to his gloomy cell, and heart and brain would thrill with rapture at the summons, "the master calleth thee." now, indeed, it was true that the master called him. but he called him to go to him through the scornful gaze of ten thousand eyes; through reproach, and shame, and mockery; the hideous zamarra and carroza; the long agony of the auto, spun out from daybreak till midnight; and, last of all, through the torture of the doom of fire. how could he bear it? sharp were the pangs of fear that wrung his heart, and dread was the struggle that followed. it was over at last. raising to the cold moonlight a steadfast though sorrowful face, carlos murmured audibly, "what time i am afraid i will put my trust in thee. lord, i am ready to go with thee, whithersoever thou wilt; only--with thee." he woke, late the following morning, from the sleep of exhaustion to the painful consciousness of something terrible to come upon him. but he was soon roused from thoughts of self by seeing his father kneel before the crucifix, not quietly reciting his appointed penance, but uttering broken words of prayer and lamentation, accompanied by bitter weeping. as far as he could gather, the burden of the cry was this, "god help me! god forgive me! _i have lost it!_" over and over again did he moan those piteous words, "i have lost it!" as if they were the burden of some dreary song. they seemed to contain the sum of all his sorrow. carlos, yearning to comfort him, still did not feel that he could interrupt him then. he waited quietly until they were both ready for their usual reading or repetition of scripture; for carlos, every morning, either read from the book of hours to his father, or recited passages from memory, as suited his inclination at the time. he knew all the gospel of john by heart. and this day he began with those blessed words, dear in all ages to the tried and sorrowing, "let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in god, believe also in me. in my father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, i would have told you. i go to prepare a place for you." he continued without pause to the close of the sixteenth chapter, "these things i have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. in the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; i have overcome the world." then once more don juan uttered that cry of bitter pain, "ay de mi! i have lost it!" carlos thought he understood him now. "lost that peace, my father?" he questioned gently. the old man bowed his head sorrowfully. "but it is in him. 'in me ye might have peace.' and him you have," said carlos. don juan drew his hand across his brow, was silent for a few moments, then said slowly, "i will try to tell you how it is with me. there is one thing i could do, even yet; one path left open to my footsteps in which none could part us.--what hinders my refusing to perform my penance, and boldly taking my stand beside thee, carlos?" carlos started, flushed, grew pale again with emotion. he had not dreamed of this, and his heart shrank from it in terror. "my beloved father!" he exclaimed in a trembling voice. "but no--god has not called you. each one of us must wait to see his guiding hand." "once i could have done it bravely, nay, joyfully," said the penitent. "_not now._" and there was a silence. at last don juan resumed, "my boy, thy courage shames my weakness. what hast thou seen, what dost thou see, that makes this thing possible to thee?" "my father knows. i see him who died for me, who rose again for me, who lives at the right hand of god to intercede for me." "_for me?_" "yes; it is this thought that gives strength and peace." "peace--which i have lost for ever." "not for ever, my honoured father. no; you are his, and of such it is written, 'neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.' though your tired hand has relaxed its grasp of him, his has never ceased to hold you, and never can cease." "i was at peace and happy long ago, when i believed, as don rodrigo said, that i was justified by faith in him." "once justified, justified for ever," said carlos. "don rodrigo used to say so too, but--i cannot understand it now," and a look of perplexity passed over his face. carlos spoke more simply. "no! then come to him now, my father, just as if you had never come before. you may not know that you are justified; you know well that you are weary and heavy laden. and to such he says, 'come. he says it with outstretched arms, with a heart full of love and tenderness. he is as willing to save you from sin and sorrow as you are this hour to save me from pain and death. only, you cannot, and he can." "come--that is--believe?" "it is believe, and more. come, as your heart came out to me, and mine to you, when we knew the great bond between us. but with far stronger trust and deeper love; for he is more than son or father. he fulfils all relationships, satisfies all wants." "but then, what of those long years in which i forgot him?" "they were but adding to the sum of sin; sin that he has pardoned, has washed away for ever in his blood." at that point the conversation dropped, and days passed ere it was renewed. don juan was unusually silent; very tender to his son, making no complaint, but often weeping quietly. carlos thought it best to leave god to deal with him directly, so he only prayed for him and with him, repeated precious scripture words, and sometimes sang to him the psalms and hymns of the church. but one evening, to the affectionate "good-night" always exchanged by the son and father with the sense that many more might not be left to them, don juan added, "rejoice with me, my son; for i think that i have found again the thing that i lost-- 'el dorado yo hé trovado.'" xliv. one prisoner set free. "all was ended now, the hope and the fear, and the sorrow; all the aching of heart, the restless unsatisfied longing, all the dull deep pain, and constant anguish of patience." longfellow. the winter rain was pouring down in a steady continuous torrent. it was long since a gleam of sunshine had come through the windows of the prison-room. but don juan alvarez did not miss the sunlight. for he lay on his pallet, weak and ill, and the only sight he greatly cared to look upon was the loving face that was ever beside him. it is possible, by means of the embalmer's art, to enable buried forms to retain for ages a ghastly outward similitude to life. tombs have been opened, and kings found therein clothed in their royal robes, stern and stately, the sceptre in their cold hands, and no trace of the grave and its corruption visible upon them. but no sooner did the breath of the upper air and the finger of light touch them than they crumbled away, silently and rapidly, and dust returned to dust again. thus, buried in the chill dark tomb of his seclusion, don juan might have lived for years--if life it could be called--or, at least, he might have lingered on in the outward similitude of life. but carlos brought in light and air upon him. his mind and heart revived; and, just in proportion, his physical nature sank. it proved too weak to bear these powerful influences. he was dying. tender and thoughtful as a woman, carlos, who himself knew so well all the bitterness of unpitied pain and sickness, ministered to his father's wants. but he did not request their gaolers to afford him any medical aid, though, had he done so, it would have been readily granted. he had good reason for seeking no help from man. the daily penance was neglected now; the rosary lay untold; and never again would "ave maria sanctissima" pass the lips of don juan alvarez. therefore it was that carlos, after much thought and prayer, said quietly to him one day, "my father, are you afraid to lie here, in god's hands, and in his alone, and to take whatever he pleases to send us?" "i am not afraid." "do you desire _any_ help they can give, either for your soul or for your body?" "_no_," said the conde de nuera, with something like the spirit of other days. "i would not confess to them; for christ is my only priest now. and they should not anoint me while i retained my consciousness." a look of resolution, strange to see, passed over the gentle face of carlos. "it is well said, my father," he responded. "and, god helping me, i will let no man trouble you." "my son," said don juan one evening, as carlos sat beside him in the twilight, "i pray you, tell me a little more of those who learned to love the truth since i walked amongst men. for i would fain be able to recognize them when we meet in heaven." then carlos told him, not indeed for the first time, but more fully than ever before, the story of the reformed church in spain. almost every name that he mentioned has come down to us surrounded by the mournful halo of martyr glory. with special reverential love, he told of don carlos de seso, of losada, of d'arellano, and of the heroic juliano hernandez, who, as he believed, was still waiting for his crown. "for him," he said, "i pray even yet; for the others i can only thank god. surely," he added, after a pause, "god will remember the land for which these, his faithful martyrs, prayed and toiled and suffered! surely he will hear their voices, that cry under the altar, not for vengeance, but for forgiveness and mercy; and one day he will return and repent, and leave a blessing behind him!" "i know not," said the dying man despondingly. "the spains have had their offer of god's truth, and have rejected it. what is there that is said, somewhere in the scriptures, about noah, daniel, and job?" carlos repeated the solemn words, "'though noah, daniel, and job were in it, as i live, saith the lord god, they shall deliver neither son nor daughter; they shall but deliver their own souls by their righteousness.' do you fear that such a terrible doom has gone forth over our land, my father? i dare to hope otherwise. for it is not the spains that have rejected the truth. it is the inquisition that is crushing it out." "but the spains must answer for its deeds, since they consent to them. they heed not. there are brave men enough, with weapons in their hands," said the soldier of former days, with a momentary return to old habits of thought and feeling. "yet god may give our land another trial," carlos continued. "his truth is sometimes offered twice to individuals, why not to nations?" "true; it was offered twice to me, praised be his name." after an interval of silence, he resumed, "my son always speaks of others, never of himself. not yet have i learned how it was that you came to receive the word of god so readily from juliano." then in the dark, with his father's hand in his, carlos told, for the first and last time, the true story of his life. before he had gone far, don juan started, half-raised himself, and exclaimed in surprise, "what, and you!--_you_ too--once loved?" "ay, and bitter as the pain has been, i am glad now of all except the sin. i am glad that i have tasted earth's very best and sweetest; that i know how the wine is red and gives its colour in the cup of life he honours me to put aside for him." his voice was low and full of feeling as he said this. presently he resumed. "but the sin, my father! especially my treachery in heart to juan; that rankled long and stung deeply. juan, my brave, generous brother, who would have struck down any man who dared to hint that i could do, or think, aught dishonourable! he never knew it; and had he known it, he would have forgiven me; but i could not forgive myself. i do not think the self-scorn passed away until--_that_ which happened after i had been nigh a year in prison. o my father, if god had not interposed to save me by withholding me from that crime, i shudder to think what my life might have been. i am persuaded i should have sunk lower, lower, and ever lower. perhaps, even, i might have ended in the purple and fine linen, and the awful pomp and luxury of the oppressors and persecutors of the saints." "nay," said don juan, "that would _never_ have been possible to thee, carlos. but there is a question i have often longed to ask thee. does juan, my juan rodrigo, know and love the word of god?" he had asked that question before; but carlos had contrived, with tact and gentleness, to evade the answer. up to this hour he had not dared to tell his father the truth upon this important subject. besides the terrible risk that in some moment of fear or forgetfulness the prior or his agents might draw an incautious word from the old man's lips, there was a haunting dread of listeners at key-holes, or secret apertures, quite natural in one who knew the customs of the holy office. but now he bent down close to the dying man, and spoke to him in a long earnest whisper. "thank god," murmured don juan. "i would have no earthly wish unsatisfied now--if only _you_ were safe. but still," he added, "it seemeth somewhat hard to me that juan should have _all_, and you nothing." "i _nothing_!" carlos exclaimed; and had not the room been in darkness his father would have seen that his eye kindled, and his whole countenance lighted up. "my father, mine has been the best lot, even for earth. were it to do again, i would not change the last two years for the deepest love, the brightest hope, the fairest joy life has to offer. for the lord himself has been the portion of my cup, my inheritance in the land of the living." after a silence, he continued, "moreover, and beside all, i have thee, my father. therefore to me it is a joy to think that my beloved brother has also something precious. how he loved her! but the strangest thing of all, as i ponder over it now, is the fulfilment of our childhood's dream. and in me, the weak one who deserved nothing, not in juan the hero who deserved everything. it is the lame who has taken the prey. it is the weak and timid carlos who has found our father." "weak--timid?" said don juan, with an incredulous smile. "i marvel who ever joined such words with the name of my heroic son. carlos, have we any wine?" "abundance, my father," answered carlos, who carefully treasured for his father's use all that was furnished for both of them. having given him a little, he asked, "do you feel pain to-night?" "no--no pain. only weary; always weary." "i think my beloved father will soon be where the weary are at rest"--"and where the wicked cease from troubling," he added mentally, not aloud. he would fain have dropped the conversation then, fearing to exhaust his father's strength. but the sick man's restlessness was soothed by his talk. ere long he questioned, "is it not near christmas now?" well did carlos know that it was; and keenly did he dread the return of the season which ought to bring "peace upon earth." for it would certainly bring the prisoners a visit; and almost certainly there would be the offer of special privileges to the penitent, perhaps sacramental consolation, perhaps permission to hear mass. he shuddered to think what a refusal to avail himself of these indulgences might entail. and once and again did he breathe the fervent prayer, that whatever came upon _him_, neither violence, insult, nor reproach might be allowed to touch his father. moreover, amongst the great festivities of the season, it was more than likely that a solemn auto-da-fé might find place. but this was a secret inner thought, not often put into words, even to himself. only, if it were god's will to call his father first! "it is december," he said, in answer to don juan's question; "but i have lost account of the day. it may be perhaps the twelfth or fourteenth. shall i recite the evening psalms for the twelfth, 'te dicet hymnus'?" as he did so, the old man fell asleep, which was what he desired. half in the sleep of exhaustion, half in weary restlessness, the next day and the next night wore on. once only did don juan speak connectedly. "i think you will see my mother soon," said carlos, as he bore to his lips wine mingled with water. "true," breathed the dying man; "but i am not thinking of that now. far better--i shall see christ." "my father, are you still in peace, resting on him?" "in perfect peace." and carlos said no more. he was content; nay, he was exceeding glad. he who in all things will have the pre-eminence, had indeed taken his rightful place in the heart of the dying, when even the strong earthly love that was "twisted with the strings of life" had paled before the love of him. and in the last watch of the night, when the day was breaking, he sent his angel to loose the captive's bonds. so gentle was the touch that freed him, that he who sat holding his hand in his, and watching his face as we watch the last conscious looks of our beloved, yet knew not the exact moment when the deliverer came. carlos never said "he is going!" he only said "he is gone!" and then he kissed the pale lips and closed the sightless eyes--in peace. none ever thanked god for bringing back their beloved from the gates of the grave more fervently than carlos thanked him that hour for so gently opening unto his those gates that "no man can shut." "my father, thy rest is won!" he said, as he gazed on the calm and noble countenance. "they cannot touch thee now. not all the malice of men or of fiends can give one pang. a moment since so fearfully in their power; now so completely beyond it! thank god! thank god!" the rain was over, and ere long the sun arose, in his royal robes of crimson and purple and gold--to the prisoner from the dungeon of the triana an ever fresh wonder and joy. yet not even that sight could win his eyes to-day from the deeper beauty of the still and solemn face before him. and as the soft crimson light fell on the pallid cheek and brow, the watcher murmured, with calm thankfulness,--"'to him sun and daylight are as nothing, for he sees the glory of god.'" xlv. triumphant. "for ever with the lord! amen! so let it be!" montgomery. carlos was still sitting beside that couch, with scarcely more sense of time than if he had been already where time exists no longer, when the door of his cell was opened to admit two distinguished visitors. first came the prior; then another member of the table of the inquisition. carlos rose up from beside his dead, and said calmly, addressing the prior, "my father is free!" "how? what is this?" cried fray ricardo, his brow contracting with surprise. carlos stood aside, allowing him to approach and look. with real concern in his stern countenance, he stooped for a few moments over the motionless form. then he asked,-- "but why was i not summoned? who was with him when he departed?" "i,--his son," said carlos. "but who besides thee?" then, in a higher key and with more hurried intonation,--"who gave him the last rites of the church?" "he did not receive them, my lord, for he did not desire them. he said that christ was his priest; that he would not confess; and that they should not anoint him while he retained consciousness." the dominican's face grew white with anger, even to the lips. "_liar!_" he cried, in a voice of thunder. "how darest thou tell me that he for whom i watched, and prayed, and toiled, after years and years of faithful penance, has gone down at last, unanointed and unassoiled, to hell with luther and calvin?" "i tell thee that he has gone home in peace to his father's house." "blasphemer! liar, like thy father the devil! but i understand all now. thou, in thy hatred of the faith, didst refuse to summon help--didst let his spirit pass without the aid and consolations of the church. murderer of his soul--thy father's soul! not content even with that, thou canst stand there and slander his memory, bidding us believe that he died in heresy! but that, at least, is false--false as thine own accursed creed!" "it is true; and you believe it," said carlos, in calm, clear, quiet tones, that contrasted strangely with the dominican's outburst of unwonted rage. and the prior did believe it--there was the sharpest sting. he knew perfectly well that the condemned heretic was incapable of falsehood: on a matter of fact he would have received his testimony more readily than that of the stately "lord inquisitor" now standing by his side. in the momentary pause that followed, that personage came forward and looked upon the face of the dead. "if there be really any proof that he died in heresy," he said, "he ought to be proceeded against according to the laws of the holy office provided for such cases." carlos smiled--smiled in calm triumph. "you cannot hurt him now," he said. "look there, señor. the king immortal, invisible, has set his own signet upon that brow, that the decree may not be reversed nor the purpose changed concerning him." and the peace of the dead face seemed to have passed into the living face that had gazed on it so long. carlos was as really beyond the power of his enemies as his father was that hour. they felt it; or at least one of them did. as for the other, his strong heart was torn with rage and sorrow: sorrow for the penitent, whom he truly loved, and whom he now believed, after all his prayers and efforts, a lost soul; rage against the obstinate heretic, whom he had sought to befriend, and who had repaid his kindness by snatching his convert from his grasp at the very gate of heaven, and plunging him into hell. "i will _not_ believe it," he reiterated, with pale lips, and eyes that gleamed beneath his cowl like coals of fire. then, softening a little as he turned to the dead--"would that those silent lips could utter, were it only one word, to say that death found thee true to the catholic faith!--not one word! so end the hopes of years. but at least thy betrayer shall be with thee amongst the dead to-morrow.--heretic!" he said, turning fiercely to carlos, "we are here to announce thy doom. i came, with a heart full of pity and relenting, to offer counsel and comfort, and such mercy as holy church still keeps for those who return to her bosom at the eleventh hour. but now, i despair of thee. professed, impenitent, dogmatizing heretic, go thine own way to everlasting fire!" "to-morrow! did you say to-morrow?" asked carlos, standing motionless, as one lost in thought. the other inquisitor took up the word. "it is true," he said. "to-morrow the church offers to god the acceptable sacrifice of a solemn act of faith. and we come to announce to thee thy sentence, well merited and long delayed--to be relaxed to the secular arm as an obstinate heretic. but if even yet thou wilt repent, and, confessing and deploring thy sins, supplicate restoration to the bosom of the church, she will so effectually intercede for thee with the civil magistrate that the doom of fire will be exchanged for the milder punishment of death by strangling." something like a faint smile played round the lips of carlos; but he only repeated, "to-morrow!" "yes, my son," said the inquisitor, promptly; for he was a man who knew his business well. he had come there to improve the occasion; and he meant to do it. "no doubt it seems to thee a sudden blow, and but a brief space left thee for preparation. but, at the best, our life here is only a span; 'man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery.'" carlos did not look as if he heard; he still stood lost in thought, his head sunk upon his breast. but in another moment he raised it suddenly. "to-morrow i shall be with christ in glory!" he exclaimed, with a countenance as radiant as if that glory were already reflected there. some faint feeling of awe and wonder touched the inquisitor's heart, and silenced him for an instant. then, recovering himself, and falling back for help upon wonted words of course, he said,-- "i entreat of you to think of your soul." "i have thought of it long ago. i have given it into the safe keeping of christ my lord. therefore i think no more of it; i only think of him." "but have you no fear of the anguish--the doom of fire?" "i have no fear," carlos answered. and this was a great mystery, even to himself. "christ's hand will either lift me over it or sustain me through it; which, i know not yet. and i am not careful; he will care." "men of noble lineage, such as you are--of high honour and stainless name, such as you _were_," said the inquisitor--"ofttimes dread shame more than agony. you, who were called alvarez de meñaya, what think _you_ of the infamy, the loathing of all men, the scorn and mockery of the lowest rabble--the zamarra, the carroza?" "i shall joyfully go forth with him without the camp, bearing his reproach." "and stand at the stake beside a vile caitiff, a miserable muleteer, convicted of the same crimes?" "a muleteer? juliano hernandez?" carlos questioned eagerly. "the same." a softer light played over the features of carlos. then he should see that face once more--perhaps even grasp that hand! truly god was giving him everything he desired of him. he said,-- "i am glad to stand, here to the last, at the side of that faithful soldier and servant of christ. for when we go in there together, i dare not hope to be so highly honoured as to take a place beside him." at this point the prior broke in. "señor and my brother, your words are wasted. he is given over to the power of the evil one. let us leave him." and drawing his mantle round him, he turned to go, without looking again towards carlos. but carlos came forward. "pardon me, my lord; i have a few words yet to say to you;" and, stretching out his hand to detain him, he unconsciously touched his arm with it. the prior flung it off with a gesture of angry scorn. there was contamination in that touch. "i have heard too many words from your lips already," he said. "to-morrow night my lips will be dust, my voice silent for ever. so you may well bear with me for a little while to-day." "speak then; but be brief." "it gives me the last pang i think to know on earth, to part thus from you; for you have shown me true kindness. i owe you, not forgiveness as an enemy, but gratitude as a sincere though mistaken friend. i shall pray for you--" "an impenitent heretic's prayers--" "will do my lord the prior no harm; and there may come a day when he will not be sorry he had them." there was a short pause. "have you anything else to say?" asked the prior rather more gently. "only one word, señor." he turned and looked at the dead. "i know you loved him well. you will deal gently with his dust, will you not? a grave is not much to ask for him. you will give it; i trust you." the stern set face relaxed a little before that pleading look. "it is _you_ who have sought to rob him of a grave," said the prior--"you who have defamed him of heresy. but your testimony is invalid; and, as i have said, i believe you not." with this declaration of purely official disbelief, he left the room. his colleague lingered a moment. "you plead for the senseless dust that can neither feel nor suffer," he said; "you can pity that. how is it you cannot pity yourself?" "that which you destroy to-morrow is not myself. it is only my garment, my tent. yet even over that christ watches. he can raise it glorious from the ashes of the quemadero as easily as from the church where the bones of my fathers sleep. for i am his, soul and body--the purchase of his blood. and why should it be a marvel in your eyes that i rejoice to give my life for him who gave his own for me?" "god grant thee even yet to die in his grace!" answered the inquisitor, somewhat moved. "i do not despair of thee. i will pray for thee, and visit thee again to-night." so saying, he hastened after the prior. for a season carlos sat motionless, his soul filled to overflowing with a calm, deep tide of awed and wondering joy. no room was there for any thought save one--"i shall see his face; i shall be with him for ever." over the thing that lay between he could spring as joyously as a child might leap across a brook to reach his father's outstretched hand. at length his eye fell, perhaps by accident, on the little writing-book which lay near. he drew it towards him, and having found out the place where the last entry was made, wrote rapidly beneath it,-- "to depart and to be with christ is far better. my beloved father is gone to him in peace to-day. i too go in peace, though by a rougher path, to-morrow. surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life, and i shall dwell in the house of the lord for ever. "carlos alvarez de santillanos y menaya." and with a strange consciousness that he had now signed his name for the last time, he carefully affixed to it his own especial "rubrica," or sign-manual. then came one thought of earth--only one--the last. "god, in his great mercy, grant that my brother may be far away! i would not that he saw my face to-morrow. for the pain and the shame can be seen of all; while that which changes them to glory no man knoweth, save he that receiveth it. but, wherever thou art, god bless thee, my ruy!" and drawing the book towards him again, he added, as if by a sudden impulse, to what he had already written, "god bless thee, my ruy!" soon afterwards the alguazils arrived to conduct him back to the triana. then, turning to his dead once more, he kissed the pale forehead, saying, "farewell, for a little while. thou didst never taste death; nor shall i. instead of thee and me, christ drank that cup." and then, for the second time, the gate of the triana opened to receive don carlos alvarez. at sunrise next morning its gloomy portals were unlocked, and he, with others, passed forth from beneath their shadow. not to return again to that dark prison, there to linger out the slow and solitary hours of grief and pain. his warfare was accomplished, his victory was won. long before the sun had arisen again upon the weary blood-stained earth, a brighter sun arose for him who had done with earth. all his desire was granted, all his longings were fulfilled. he saw the face of christ, and he was with him for ever. xlvi. is it too late? "death upon his face is rather shine than shade; a tender shine by looks beloved made: he seemeth dying in a quiet place." e.b. browning. the mountain-snow lay white around the old castle of nuera; but within there was light and warmth. joy and gladness were there also, "thanksgiving and the voice of melody;" for doña beatriz, graver and paler than of old, and with the brilliant lustre of her dark eyes subdued to a kind of dewy softness, was singing a cradle-song beside the cot where her first-born slept. the babe had just been baptized by fray sebastian. with a pleading, wistful look had dolores asked her lord, the day before, what name he wished his son to bear. but he only answered, "the heir of our house always bears the name of juan." another name was far dearer to memory; but not yet could he accustom his lips to utter it, or his ear to bear the sound. now he came slowly into the room, holding in his hand an unsealed letter. doña beatriz looked up. "he sleeps," she said. "then let him sleep on, señora mia." "but will you not look? see, how pretty he is! how he smiles in his sleep! and those dear small hands--" "have their share in dragging me further than you wot of, my beatriz." nay; what dost thou mean? do not be grave and sad to-day--not to-day, don juan." "my beloved, god knows i would not cloud thy brow with a single care if i could help it. nor am i sad. only we must think. here is a letter from the duke of savoy (and very gracious and condescending too), inviting me to take my place once more in his catholic majesty's army." "but you will not go? we are so happy together here." "my beatriz, i _dare_ not go. i would have to fight"--(here he broke off, and cast a hasty glance round the room, from the habit of dreading listeners)--"i would have to fight against those whose cause is just the cause i hold dearest upon earth. i would have to deny my faith by the deeds of every day. but yet, how to refuse and not stand dishonoured in the eyes of the world, a traitor and a coward, i know not." "no dishonour could ever touch thee, my brave and noble juan." don juan's brow relaxed a little. "but that men should even _think_ it did, is what i could not bear," he said. "besides"--and he drew nearer the cradle, and looked fondly down at the little sleeper--"it does not seem to me, my beatriz, that i dare bring up this child god has given me to the bitter heritage of a slave." "a slave!" repeated doña beatriz, almost with a cry. "now heaven help us, don juan; are you mad? you, of noblest lineage--you, alvarez de meñaya--to call your own first-born a slave!" "i call any one a slave who dares not speak out what he thinks, and act out what he believes," returned don juan sadly. "and what is it that you would do then?" "would to god that i knew! but the future is all dark to me. i see not a single step before me." "then, amigo mio, do not look before you. let the future alone, and enjoy the present, as i do." "truly that baby face would charm many a care away," said juan, with another fond glance at the sleeping child. "but a man _must_ look before him, and a christian man must ask what god would have him to do. moreover, this letter of the duke demands an answer, yea or nay." "señor don juan. i desire to speak with your excellency," said the voice of dolores at the door. "come in, dolores." "nay, señor, i want you here." this peremptory sharpness was very unlike the wonted manner of dolores. don juan came forth immediately. dolores signed to him to shut the door. then, not till then, she began,--"señor don juan, two brethren of the society of jesus have come from seville, and are now in the village." "what then? surely you do not fear that they suspect anything with regard to us?" asked juan, in some alarm. "no; but they have brought tidings." "you tremble, dolores. you are ill. speak--what is it?" "they have brought tidings of a great act of faith, to be held at seville, upon a day not yet fixed when they left the city, but towards the end of this month." for a moment the two stood silent, gazing in each other's faces. then dolores said, in an eager breathless whisper, "you will go, señor?" juan shook his head. "what you are thinking of dolores, is a dream--a vain, wild dream. long since, i doubt not, he rests with god." "but if we had the proof of it, rest might come to us," said dolores, large tears gathering slowly in her eyes. "it is true," juan mused; "they may wreak their vengeance on the dust." "and for the assurance that would give that nothing more was left them, i, a poor woman, would joyfully walk barefoot from this to seville and back again." juan hesitated no longer. "_i go_" he said. "dolores, seek fray sebastian, and send him to me at once. bid jorge be ready with the horses to start to-morrow at daybreak. meanwhile, i will prepare doña beatriz for my sudden departure." * * * * * of that hurried winter journey, don juan was never afterwards heard to speak. no one of its incidents seemed to have made the slightest impression on his mind, or even to have been remembered by him. but at last he drew near seville. it was late in the evening, however, and he had told his attendant they should spend the night at a village eight or nine miles from their destination. suddenly jorge cried out. "look there, señor, the city is on fire." don juan looked. a lurid crimson glow paled the stars in the southern sky. with a shudder he bowed his head, and veiled his face from the awful sight. "that fire is _without the gate_," he said at last. "pray for the souls that are passing in anguish now." noble, heroic souls! probably juliano hernandez, possibly fray constantino, was amongst them. these were the only names that occurred to don juan's mind, or were breathed in his fervent, agitated prayer. "yonder is the posada, señor," said the attendant presently. "nay, jorge, we will ride on. there will be no sleepers in seville to-night." "but, señor," remonstrated the servant, "the horses are weary. we have travelled far to-day already." "let them rest afterwards," said juan briefly. motion, just then, was an absolute necessity to him. he could not have rested anywhere, within sight of that awful glare. two hours afterwards he drew the rein of his weary steed before the house of his cousin doña inez. he had no scruple in asking for admission in the middle of the night, as he knew that, under the circumstances, the household would not fail to be astir. his summons was speedily answered, and he was conducted to a hall opening on the patio. thither, after a brief interval, came juanita, bearing a lamp in her hand, which she set down on the table. "my lady will see your excellency presently," said the girl, with a shy, frightened air, which was very unlike her, but which juan was too preoccupied to notice. "but she is much indisposed. my lord was obliged to accompany her home from the act of faith before it was half over." juan expressed the concern he felt, and desired that she would not incommode herself upon his account. perhaps don garçia, if he had not yet retired to rest, would converse with him for a few moments. "my lady said she must speak with you herself," answered juanita, as she left the room. after a considerable time doña inez appeared. in that southern climate youth and beauty fade quickly; and yet juan was by no means prepared for the changed, worn, haggard face that gazed on him now, there was no pomp of apparel to carry off the impression. doña inez wore a loose dark dressing-robe; and a hasty careless hand seemed to have untwined the usual ornaments from her black hair. her eyes were like those of one who has wept for hours, and then only ceased for very weariness. she stretched out both her hands to juan--"o don juan, i never meant it! i never meant it!" "señora and my cousin, i have but just arrived here. i do not understand you," said juan, rising to greet her. "santa maria! then you know not!--horrible!" she sank into a seat. juan stood gazing at her eagerly, almost wildly. "yes; i understand all now," he said at last. "i suspected it." _he_ saw in imagination a black chest, with a little lifeless dust within it; a rude shapeless figure, robed in the hideous zamarra, and bearing in large letters the venerated name, "alvarez de santillanos y meñaya." while _she_ saw a living face, that would never cease to haunt her memory until death shadowed all things. "let me speak," she gasped; "and i will try to be calm. i did not wish to go. it was the day of the last auto, you remember, that my poor brother died, and altogether---- but don garçia insisted. he said everybody would talk, and especially when the taint had touched our own house. besides, doña juana de bohorques, who died in prison, was to be publicly declared innocent, and her property restored to her heirs. out of regard to the family, it was thought we ought to be present. o don juan, if i had but known! i would rather have put on a sanbenito myself than have gone there. god grant it did not hurt him!" "how could it possibly hurt him, my tender-hearted cousin?" "hush! let me go on now, while i can speak of it; or i shall never, never tell you. and i must. _he_ would have wished---- well, we were seated in what they called good places; very near the condemned; in fact, the scaffold opposite was plain to us as you are to me now. but that last time, and doña maria's look, and dr. cristobal's, haunted me, so that i did not dare to raise my eyes to where _they_ sat;--not until long after the mass had begun. and i knew besides there were so many women there--eight on that dreadful top bench, doomed to die. but at last a lady who sat near me bade me look at one of the relaxed, a little man, who was pointing upwards and making signs to his companions to encourage them. 'do not look, señora,' said don garçia, quickly--but too late. o don juan, i saw his face!" "his living face? not his living face?" cried juan, with a shudder that convulsed his strong frame from head to foot. and the name--the one awful name that rises to all human lips in moments of supreme emotion--broke from his in a wail of anguish. doña inez tried to speak; but in vain. thoroughly broken down, she wept and sobbed aloud. but the sight of the rigid, tearless face before her checked her tears at last. she gained power to go on. "i saw him. worn and pale, of course; yet not changed so greatly, after all. the same dear, kind, familiar face i had seen last in this room, when he caressed and played with my child. not sad, not as though he suffered. rather as though he had suffered long ago; but was beyond it all, even then. a still, patient, fearless look, eyes that saw everything; and yet nothing seemed to trouble him. i bore it until they were reading the sentences, and came to his. but when i saw the alguazil strike him--the blow that relaxed to the secular arm--i could endure no more. i believe i cried aloud. but in fact i know not what i did. i know nothing more till don garçia and my brother don manuel were carrying me through the crowd." "no word? was there no word spoken?" asked juan wildly. "_no_; but i heard some one near me say that he talked with that muleteer in the court of the triana, and spoke words of comfort to a poor woman amongst the penitents, whom they called maria gonsalez." all was told now. maddened with rage and anguish, juan rushed from the room, from the house; and, without being conscious of any settled purpose, in five minutes found himself far on his way to the dominican convent adjoining the triana. his servant, who was still waiting at the gate, followed him to ask for orders, and with difficulty overtook him, and arrested his steps. juan sternly silenced his faltering, agitated question as to what was wrong with his lord. "go to rest," he said, "and meet me in the morning by the great gate of sun isodro." nothing was clear to him; but that he must shake off as soon as possible the dust of the wicked, cruel city from his feet. and san isodro was the only trysting-place without its walls that happened at the moment to occur to his bewildered brain. xlvii. the dominican prior. "oh, deep is a wounded heart, and strong a voice that cries against mighty wrong! and full of death as a hot wind's blight, doth the ire of a crushed affection light." hemans. tell the prior don juan alvarez de santillanos y meñaya desires to speak with him, and that instantly," said juan to the drowsy lay brother who at last answered his impatient summons, lantern in hand. "my lord has but just retired to rest, and cannot now be disturbed," answered the attendant, looking with some curiosity, not to say surprise, at the visitor, who seemed to think three o'clock of a winter morning a proper and suitable hour to demand instant audience of a great man. "i will wait," said juan, walking into the court. the attendant led him to a parlour; then, holding the door ajar, he said, "let his excellency pardon me, i did not hear distinctly his worship's honourable name." "don juan alvarez de santillanos y meñaya. the prior knows it--too well." it was evident from his face that the poor lay brother knew it also. and so that night did every man, woman, and child in seville. it had become a name of infamy. with a hasty "yes, yes, señor," the door was closed, and juan was left alone. what had brought him there? did he mean to accuse the dominican of his brother's murder, or did he only intend to reproach him--him who had once shown some pity to the captive--for not saving him from that horrible doom? he himself scarcely knew. he had been driven thither by a wild, unreasoning impulse, an instinct of passionate rage, prompting him to grasp at the only shadow of revenge that lay within his reach. if he could not execute god's awful judgments against the persecutors, at least he could denounce them. a poor substitute, but all that remained to him. without it his heart must break. yet that unreasoning impulse had a kind of unconscious reason in it, since it led him to seek the presence of the dominican prior, and not that of the far more guilty munebrãga. for who would accuse a tiger, reproach a wolf? words would be wasted upon such. for them there is no argument but the spear and the bullet. a man can only speak to men. to do fray ricardo justice, he was so much of a man that sleep did not visit his eyes that night. when at length his attendants thought fit to inform him that don juan desired to see him, he was still kneeling, as he had knelt for hours, before the crucifix in his private oratory. "saviour of the world, so much didst thou suffer," this was the key-note of his thoughts; "and shall i weakly pity thine enemies, or shrink from seeing them suffer what they have deserved at thy hands and those of thy holy church?" "alvarez de santillanos y meñaya waits below!" just then don fray ricardo would rather have held his right hand in the fire than have gone forth to face one bearing that name. but, for that very reason, no sooner did he hear that don juan awaited him than he robed himself in his cowl and mantle, took a lamp in his hand (for it was still dark), and went down to meet the visitor. for that morning he was in the mood to welcome any form of self-torture that came in his way, and to find a strange but real relief in it. "peace be with thee, my son," was his grave but courteous salutation, as he entered the parlour. he looked upon juan with mournful compassion, as the last of a race over which there hung a terrible doom. "let your peace be with murderers like yourselves, or with slaves like those that work your will; i fling it back to you in scorn," was the fierce reply. the dominican recoiled a step--only a step, for he was a brave man, and his face, pale with conflict and watching, grew a shade paler. "do you think i mean to harm you?" cried juan in yet fiercer scorn. "not a hair of your tonsured head. see there!" he unbuckled his sword, and threw it from him, and it fell with a clang on the floor. "young man, you would consult your own safety as well as your own honour by adopting a different tone," said the prior, not without dignity. "my safety is little worth consulting. i am a bold, rough soldier, used to peril and violence. would it were such, and such alone, that you menaced. but, fiends that you are, would no one serve you for a victim save my young, gentle, unoffending brother; he who never harmed you nor any one? would nothing satisfy your malice but to immure him in your hideous dungeons for two-and-thirty long slow months, in what suffering of mind and body god alone can tell; and then, at last, to bring him forth to that horrible death? i curse you! i curse you! nay, that is nothing; who am i to curse? i invoke god's curse upon you! i give you up into god's hands this hour! when he maketh inquisition for blood--another inquisition than yours--i pray him to exact from you, murderers of the innocent, torturers of the just, every drop of blood, every tear, every pang of which he has been the witness, as he shall be the avenger." at last the prior found a voice. hitherto he had listened spell-bound, as one oppressed by nightmare, powerless to free himself from the hideous burden. "man!" he cried, "you are raving; the holy office--" "is the arch-fiend's own contrivance, and its ministers his favourite servants," interrupted juan, reckless in his rage, and defying all consequences. "blasphemy! this may not be borne," and fray ricardo stretched out his hand towards a bell that lay on the table. but juan's strong grasp prevented his touching it. he could not shake off that as easily as he had shaken off a pale thin hand two days before. "i shall speak forth my mind this once," he said. "after that, what you please.--go on. fill your cup full to the brim. immure, plunder, burn, destroy. pile up, high as heaven, your hecatomb of victims, offered to the god of love. at least there is one thing that may be said in your favour. in your cruelties there is a horrible impartiality. it can never be spoken of you that you have gone out into the highways and hedges, taken the blind and the lame, and made of them your burnt sacrifice. no. you go into the closest guarded homes; you take thence the gentlest, the tenderest, the fairest, the best, and of such you make your burnt-offering. and you--are your hearts human, or are they not? if they are, stifle them, crush them down into silence while you can; for a day will come when you can stifle them no longer. that will begin your punishment. you will feel remorse." "man, let me go!" interrupted the indignant yet half-frightened prior, struggling vainly to free himself from his grasp. "cease your blasphemies. men only feel remorse when they have sinned; and i serve god and the church." "yet, servant of the church (for god's servant i am not profane enough to call you), speak to me this once as man to man, and tell me, did a victim's pale face never haunt you, a victim's agonized cry never ring in your ears?" for just an instant the prior winced, as one who feels a sharp, sudden pain, but determines to conceal it. "there!" cried juan--and at last he released his arm and flung it from him--"i read an answer in your look. you, at least, are capable of remorse." "you are false there," the prior broke in. "remorse is not for me." "no? then all the worse for you--infinitely the worse. yet it may be. you may sleep and rise, and go to your rest again untroubled by an accusing conscience. you may sit down to eat and drink with the wail of your brother's anguish ringing in your ears, like munebrãga, who sits feasting yonder in his marble hall, with the ashes yet hot on the quemadero. until you go down quick into hell, and the pit shuts her mouth upon you. then, then shall you drink of the wine of the wrath of god, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and you shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the lamb." "thou art beside thyself," cried the prior; "and i, scarce less mad than thou, to listen to thy ravings. yet hear me a moment, don juan alvarez. i have not merited these insane reproaches. to you and yours i have been more a friend than you wot of." "noble friendship! i thank you for it, as it deserves." "you have given me, this hour, more than cause enough to order your instant arrest." "you are welcome. it were shame indeed if i could not bear at your hands what my gentle brother bore." the last of his race! the father dead in prison; the mother dead long ago (fray ricardo himself best knew why); the brother burned to ashes. "i think you have a wife, perhaps a child?" asked the prior hurriedly. "a young wife, and an infant son," said juan, softening a little at the thought. "wild as your words have been, i am yet willing, for their sakes, to show you forbearance. according to the lenity which ministers of the holy office--" "have learned from their father the devil," interrupted juan, the flame of his wrath blazing up again. "after what the stars looked down on last night, dare to mock me with thy talk of lenity!" "you are in love with destruction," said the prior. "but i have heard you long enough. now hear me. you have been, ere this, under grave suspicion. indeed, you would have been arrested, only that your brother endured the question without revealing anything to your disadvantage. that saved you." but here he stopped, struck with astonishment at the sudden change his words had wrought. a man stabbed to the heart makes no outcry, he does not even moan or writhe. nor did juan. mutely he sank on the nearest seat, all his rage and defiance gone now. a moment before he stood over the shrinking inquisitor like a prophet of doom or an avenging angel; now he cowered crushed and silent, stricken to the soul. there was a long silence. then he raised a changed, sad look to the prior's face. "he bore _that_ for me," he said, "and i never knew it." in the cold gray morning light, now filling the room, he looked utterly forlorn and broken. the prior could even afford to pity him. he questioned, mildly enough, "how was it you did not know it? fray sebastian gomez, who visited him in prison, was well aware of the fact." in juan's present mood every faculty was stimulated to unnatural activity. this perhaps enabled him to divine a truth which in calmer moments might have escaped him. "my brother," he said, in a low tone of deep emotion, "my heroic, tender-hearted brother must have bidden him conceal it from me." "it was strange," said the prior, and his thoughts ran back to other things which were strange also--to the uniform patience and gentleness of carlos; to the fortitude with which, whilst acknowledging his own faith, he had steadily refused to compromise any one else; to the self-forgetfulness with which he had shielded his father's last hours from disturbance. granted that the heretic was a wild beast, "made to be taken and destroyed," even the hunter may admire unblamed the grace and beauty of the creature who has just fallen beneath his relentless weapon. something like a mist rose to the eyes of fray ricardo, taking him by surprise. still, the interests of the faith were paramount with him. all that had been done had been well done; he would not, if he could, undo any part of it. but did his duty to the faith and to holy church require that he should hunt the remaining brother to death, and thus "quench the coal that was left"? he hoped not; he thought not. and, although he would not have allowed it to himself, the words that followed were really a peace-offering to the shade of carlos. "young man, i am willing, for my own part, to overlook the wild words you have uttered, regarding them as the outpourings of insanity, and making moreover due allowance for your natural fraternal sorrow. still you must be aware that you have laid yourself open, and not for the first time, to grave suspicion of heresy. i should not only sin against my own conscience, but also expose myself to the penalties of a grievous irregularity, did i take no steps for the vindication of the faith and your just and well-merited punishment. therefore give ear to what i say. _this day week_ i bring the matter before the table of the holy office, of which i have the honour to be an unworthy member. and god grant you the grace of repentance, and his forgiveness." having said this, fray ricardo left the room. he disappears also from our pages, where he occupied a place as a type of the less numerous and less guilty class of persecutors--those who not only thought they were doing god service (munebrãga may have thought that, but he was only willing to do god such service as cost him nothing), but who were honestly anxious to serve him to the best of their ability. his future is hidden from our sight. we cannot even undertake to say whether, when death drew near,--if the name of alvarez de meñaya occurred to him at all,--he reproached himself for his sternness to the brother whom he had consigned to the flames, or for his weakness to the brother to whom he had generously given a chance of life and liberty. it is not usually the most guilty who hear the warning voice that denounces their crimes and threatens their doom. such words as don juan spoke to fray ricardo could not, by any conceivable possibility, have been uttered in the presence of gonzales de munebrãga. soon afterwards a lay brother, the same who had admitted don juan, entered the room and placed wine on the table before him. "my lord the prior bade me say your excellency seemed exhausted, and should refresh yourself ere you depart," he explained. juan motioned it away. he could not trust himself to speak. but did fray ricardo imagine he would either eat bread or drink water beneath the roof that sheltered _him?_ still the poor man lingered, standing before him with the air of one who had something to say which he did not exactly know how to bring out. "you may tell your lord that i am going," said juan, rising wearily, and with a look that certainly told of exhaustion. "if it please your noble excellency--" and the lay brother stopped and hesitated. "well?" "let his excellency pardon me. could his worship have the misfortune to be related, very distantly no doubt, to one of the heretics who--" "don carlos alvarez was my brother," said juan proudly. the poor lay brother drew nearer to him, and lowered his voice to a mysterious whisper. "señor and your excellency, he was here in prison for a long time. it was thought that my lord the prior had a kindness for him, and wished him better used than they use the criminals in the santa casa. it happened that the prisoner whose cell he shared died the day before his--_removal_. so that the cell was empty, and it fell to my lot to cleanse it. whilst i was doing it i found this; i think it belonged to him." he drew from beneath his serge gown a little book, and handed it to juan, who seized it as a starving man might seize a piece of bread. hastily taking out his purse, he flung it in exchange to the lay brother; and then, just as the matin bells began to ring, he buckled on his sword and went forth. xlviii. san isodro once more. "and if with milder anguish now i bear to think of thee in thy forsaken rest; if from my heart be lifted the despair, the sharp remorse with healing influence pressed, it is that thou the sacrifice hast blessed, and filled my spirit, in its inmost cell, with a deep chastened sense that all at last is well." hemans. the cloudless sky above him, the fresh morning air on his cheek, the dew-drops on his feet, don juan walked along. the river--his own bright guadalquivir--glistened in the early sunshine; and soon his pathway led him amidst the gray ruins of old italica, while among the brambles that half hid them, glittering lizards, startled by his footsteps, ran in and out. but he saw nothing, felt nothing, save the passionate pain that burned in his heart. during his interview with fray ricardo he had been, practically and for the time, what the prior called him, insane--mad with rage and hate. but now rage was dying out for the present, and giving place to anguish. is the worst pang earth has to give that of witnessing the sufferings of our beloved? or is there yet one keener, more thrilling? that they should suffer alone; no hand near to help, no voice to speak sympathy, no eye to look "ancient kindness" on their pain. that they should die--die in anguish--and still alone,-- "with eyes turned away, and no last word to say." don juan was now drinking that bitter cup to its very dregs. what the young brother, his one earthly tie, had been to him, need not here be told; and assuredly he could not have told it. he had been all his life a thing to protect and shield--as the strong protect the weak, as manhood shields womanhood and childhood. had god but taken him with his own right hand, juan would have thought it a light matter, a sorrow easily borne. but, instead, he stood afar off--he did not help; whilst men, cruel as fiends from the bottomless pit, did their worst, their very worst, upon him. and with refined self-torture he went through all the horrible details, as far as he knew or could guess them. nor did he spare to stab his own heart with that keenest weapon of all--"it was _for me_; for me he endured the question." the cry of his brother's anguish--anguish borne for him--seemed to sound in his ears and to haunt him: he felt that it would haunt him evermore. of course, there was a well of comfort near, which a child's hand might have pointed out to him: "all is over now; he suffers no longer--he is at rest." but who ever stoops to drink from that well in the parching thirst of the first hour of such a grief as his? in truth, all was over for carlos; but all was _not_ over for juan. he had to pass through his dark hour as really as carlos had passed through his. again the agony almost maddened him; again wild hatred and rage against his brother's torturers rose and surged like a flood within him. and with these were mingled thoughts, too nearly rebellious, of him whom that brother trusted so firmly and served so faithfully; as if he had used his servant hardly, and forsaken him in his hour of sorest need. he shrank with horror from every wayfarer he chanced to meet, imagining that his eyes might have looked on his brother's suffering. but at last he came unawares upon the gate of san isodro. left unbarred by some accident, it yielded to his touch, and he entered the monastery grounds. at that very spot, three years ago, the brothers parted, on the day that carlos avowed his change of faith. yet not even that remembrance could bring a tear to the hot and angry eyes of juan. but just then he happened to recollect the book he had received from the lay brother. he took it from its place of concealment, and eagerly began to examine it. it was almost filled with writing; but not, alas! from that beloved hand. so he flung it aside in bitter disappointment. then becoming suddenly conscious of bodily weakness, he half sat down, half threw himself on the ground. his vigorous frame and his strong nerves saved him from swooning outright: he only lay sick and faint, the blue sky looking black above him, and a strange, indistinct sound, as of many voices, murmuring in his ears. by-and-by he became conscious that some one was holding water to his lips, and trying, though with an awkward, trembling hand, to loose his doublet at the throat. he drank, shook off his weakness, and looked about him. a very old man, in a white tunic and brown mantle, was bending over him compassionately. in another moment he was on his feet; and having briefly thanked the aged monk for his kindness, he turned his face to the gate. "nay, my son," the old man interposed; "san isodro is changed--changed! still the sick and weary never left its gates unaided; and they shall not begin now--not now. i pray you come with me to the house, and refresh and rest yourself there." juan was not reckless enough to refuse what in truth he sorely needed. he entered the monastery under the guidance of poor old fray bernardo, who had been passed by, perhaps in scorn, by the persecutors: and so, after all, he had his wish--he should die and be buried in peace where he had passed his life from boyhood to extreme old age. yet there was something sad in the thought that the storm that swept by had left untouched the poor, useless, half-withered tree, while it tore down the young and strong and noble oaks, the pride of the now desolated forest. the few cowed and terrified monks who had been allowed to remain in the convent received don juan with great kindness. they set food and wine before him: food he could not touch, but wine he accepted with thankfulness. and they almost insisted on his endeavouring to take some rest; assuring him that when his servant and horses should arrive, they would see them properly cared for, until such time as he might be able to resume his journey. his journey would not brook delay, as he knew full well. that his young wife might not be a widow and his babe an orphan, he "charged his soul to hold his body strengthened" for the work that both had to do. back to nuera for these dear ones as swiftly as the fleetest horses would bear him, then to seville again, and on board the first ship he could meet with bound for any foreign port,--would the term of grace assigned him by the inquisitor suffice for all this? certainly not a moment should be lost. "i will rest for an hour," he said. "but i pray you, my fathers, do me one kindness first. is there a man here who witnessed--what was done yesterday?" a young monk came forward. juan led him into the cell which had been prepared for him to rest in, and leaning against its little window, with his face turned away, he murmured one agitated question. three words comprised the answer,-- "_calmly_, _silently_, _quickly_." juan's breast heaved and his strong frame trembled. after a long interval he said, still without looking,-- "now tell me of the others. name him no more." "no less than _eight_ ladies died the martyr's death," said the monk, who cared not, before _this_ auditor, to conceal his own sentiments. "one of them was señora maria gomez; your excellency probably knows her story. her three daughters and her sister died with her. when their sentences were read, they embraced on the scaffold, and bade each other farewell with tears. then they comforted each other with holy words about our lord and his passion, and the home he was preparing for them above." here the young monk paused for a few moments; then went on, his voice still trembling: "there were, moreover, two englishmen and a frenchman, who all died bravely. lastly, there was juliano hernandez." "ah! tell me of him." "he died as he had lived. in the morning, when brought out into the court of the triana, he cried aloud to his fellow-sufferers,--'courage, comrades! now must we show ourselves valiant soldiers of jesus christ. let us bear faithful testimony to his truth before men, and in a few hours we shall receive the testimony of his approbation before angels, and triumph with him in heaven.' though silenced, he continued throughout the day to encourage his companions by his gestures. on the quemadero, he knelt down and kissed the stone upon which the stake was erected; then thrust his head among the fagots to show his willingness to suffer. but at the end, having raised his hands in prayer, one of the attendant priests--dr. rodriguez--mistook the attitude for a sign that he would recant, and made intercession with the alguazils to give him a last opportunity of speaking. he confessed his faith in a few strong, brief words; and knowing the character of rodriguez, told him he thought the same himself, but hid his true belief out of fear. the angry priest bade them light the pile at once. it was done; but the guards, with kind cruelty, thrust the martyr through with their lances, so that he passed, without much pain, into the presence of the lord whom he served as few have been honoured to do." "and--fray constantino?" juan questioned. "he was not, for god took him. they had only his dust to burn. they have sought to slander his memory, saying he raised his hand against his own life. but we knew the contrary. it has reached our ears--i dare not tell you how--that he died in the arms of one of our dear brethren from this place--poor young fray fernando, who closed his eyes in peace. it was from one of the dark underground cells of the triana that he passed straight to the glory of god."[ ] [ ] at the auto they produced his effigy, of the size of life, clad in his canon's robe, and with the arms stretched out in the gesture he had been wont to use in preaching; but it caused such a demonstration of feeling among the people, that they were obliged hastily to withdraw it. it was at this auto that maria gonsalez was sentenced to receive two hundred lashes, and to be imprisoned for ten years, for the kindnesses she had shown the prisoners. an equally severe punishment was awarded to the under-gaoler herrera for the offence of having allowed a mother and three daughters, who were imprisoned in separate cells, an interview of half an hour; while the many cruelties and peculations of the infamous benevidio were only chastised by the loss of his situation and its advantages, and banishment from seville. "i thank you for your tidings," said juan, slowly and faintly. "and now i pray of you to leave me." after a considerable time, one of the monks softly opened the door of their visitor's cell. he sat on the pallet prepared for him, his head buried in his hands. "señor," said the monk, "your servant has arrived, and begs you to excuse his delay. it may be there are some instructions you wish him to receive." juan roused himself with an effort. "yes," he said; "and i thank you. will you add to your kindness by bidding him immediately procure for us fresh horses, the best and fleetest that can be had?" he sought his purse; but, remembering in a moment what had become of it, drew a ring from his finger to supply its loss. it was the diamond ring that the sieur de ramenais had given him. a keen pang shot through his heart. "no, not that; i cannot part with it." he took two others instead--old family jewels. "bid him bring these," he said, "to isaac ozorio, who dwells in la juderia[ ]--any man there will show him the house; take for them whatever he will give him, and therewith hire fresh horses--the best he can--from the posada where he rested, leaving our own in pledge. let him also buy provisions for the way; for my business requires haste. i will explain all to you anon." [ ] the jewish quarter of seville. while the monk did the errand, don juan sat still, gazing at the diamond ring. slowly there came back upon his memory the words spoken by carlos on the day when the sharp facets cut his hand, unfelt by him: "if he calls me to suffer for him, he may give me such blessed assurance of his love, that in the joy of it pain and fear will vanish." could it be possible he _had_ done this? oh, for some token, to relieve his breaking heart by the assurance that thus it had been! and yet, wherefore seek a sign? was not the heroic courage, the calm patience, given to that young brother, once so frail and timid, as plain a token of the sunlight of god's peace and presence as is the bow in the cloud of the sun shining in the heavens? true; but not the less was his soul filled with passionate longing for one word--only one word--from the lips that were dust and ashes now. "if god would give me _that_," he moaned, "i think i could weep for him." it occurred to him then that he might examine the book more carefully than he had done before. don juan, of late, had been no great reader, except of the spanish testament. instead of glancing rapidly through the volume with a practised eye, he carefully began at the beginning and perused several pages with diligence, and with a kind of compelled and painful attention. the writer of the diary with which the book seemed filled had not prefixed his name. consequently juan, who was without a clue to the authorship, saw in it merely the effusions of a penitent, with whose feelings he had but little sympathy. still, he reflected that if the writer had been his brother's fellow-prisoner, some mention of his brother would probably reward his persevering search. so he read on; but he was not greatly interested, until at length he came to one passage which ran thus:-- "christ and our lady forgive me, if it be a sin. ofttimes, even by prayer and fasting, i cannot prevent my thoughts from wandering to the past. not to the life i lived, and the part i acted in the great world, for that is dead to me and i to it; but to the dear faces my eyes shall never see again. my costanza!"--("costanza!" thought juan with a start, "that was my mothers name!")--"my wife! my babe! o god, in thy great mercy, still this hungering and thirsting of the heart!" immediately beneath this entry was another. "_may ._ my costanza, my beloved wife, is in heaven. it is more than a year ago, but they did not tell me till to-day. does death only visit the free?" yet another entry caught the eye of juan. "burning heat to-day. it would be cool enough in the halls of nuera, on the breezy slope of the sierra morena. what does my orphaned juan rodrigo there, i wonder?" "nuera! sierra morena! juan rodrigo!" reiterated the astonished reader. what did it all mean? he was stunned and bewildered, so that he had scarcely power left even to form a conjecture. at last it occurred to him turn to the other end of the book, if perchance some name, affording a clue to the mystery, might be inscribed there. and then he read, in another, well-known hand, a few calm words, breathing peace and joy, "quietness and assurance for ever." he pressed the loved handwriting to his lips, to his heart. he sobbed over it and wept; blistering it with such burning tears as scarcely come from a strong man's eyes more than once in a lifetime. then, flinging himself on his knees, he thanked god--god whom he had doubted, murmured against, almost blasphemed, and who yet had been true to his promise--true to his tried and suffering servant in the hour of need. when he rose, he took up the book again, and read and re-read those precious words. all but the first he thought he could comprehend. "my beloved father is gone to him in peace." would the preceding entries throw any light upon _that_ saying? once more, with changed feelings and quickened perceptions, he turned back to the records of the penitent's long captivity. slowly and gradually the secret they revealed unfolded itself before him. the history of the last nine months of his brother's life lay clearly traced; and the light it shed illumined another life also, longer, sadder, less glorious than his. one entry, almost the last, and traced with a trembling hand, he read over and over, till his eyes grew too dim to see the words. "he entreats of me to pray for my absent juan, and to bless him. my son, my first-born, whose face i know not, but whom he has taught me to love, i do bless thee. all blessings rest upon thee--blessings of heaven above, blessings of the earth beneath, blessings of the deep that lieth under! but for _thee_, carlos, what shall i say? i have no blessing fit for thee--no word of love deep and strong enough to join with that name of thine. doth not he say, of whose tenderness thou tellest me ours is but the shadow, 'he will _be silent_ in his love'? but may he read my heart in its silence, and bless thee, and repay thee when thou comest to thy home, where already thy heart is." it might have been two hours afterwards, when the same friendly monk who had narrated to don juan the circumstances of the auto-da-fé, came to apprise him that his servant had fulfilled his errand, and was waiting with the horses. don juan rose and met him. his face was sad; it would be a sad face always; but there was in it a look as of one who saw the end, and who knew that, however dark the way might be, the end was light everlasting. "look here, my friend," he said, for no concealment was necessary there; truth could hurt no one. "see how wondrously god has dealt with me and mine. here is the record of the life and death of my honoured father. for three-and-twenty years he lay in the dominican monastery, a prisoner for christ's sake. and to my heroic martyr brother god has given the honour and the joy of unravelling the mystery of his fate, and thus fulfilling our youthful dream. carlos has found our father!" he went forth into the hall, and bade the other monks a grateful farewell. old fray bernardo embraced and blessed him with tears, moved by the likeness, now discerned for the first time, between the stately soldier and the noble and gentle youth, whose kindness to him, during his residence at the monastery three years before, he well remembered. then don juan set his face towards nuera, with patient endurance, rather sad than stern, upon his brow, and in his heart "a grief as deep as life or thought," but no rebellion, and no despair. something like resignation had come to him; already he could say, or at least try to say, "thy will be done." and he foresaw, as in the distance, far off and faintly, a time when he might even be able to share in spirit the joy of the crowned and victorious one, to whom, in the dark prison, face to face with death, god had so wondrously given the desire of his heart, and not denied him the request of his lips. xlix. farewell. "my country is there; beyond the star pricked with the last peak of snow." e.b. browning. about a fortnight afterwards, a closely veiled lady, dressed in deep mourning, leaned over the side of a merchant vessel, and gazed into the sapphire depths of the bay of cadiz. a respectable elderly woman was standing near her, holding her pretty dark-eyed babe. they seemed to be under the protection of a franciscan friar; and of a stately, handsome serving-man, whose bearing and appearance were rather out of keeping with his supposed rank. it was said amongst the crew that the lady was the widow of a rich sevillian merchant, who during a residence in london some years before had married an englishwoman. she was now going to join her kindred in the heretical country, and much compassion was expended on her, as she was said to be very catholic and very pious. it was a signal proof of these dispositions that she ventured to bring with her, as private chaplain, the franciscan friar, who, the sailors thought, would probably soon fall a martyr to his attachment to the faith. but a few illusions might have been dispelled, if the conversation of the party, when for a brief space they had the deck to themselves, could have been overheard. "dost thou mourn that the shores of our spain are fading from us?" said the lady to the supposed servant. "not as i should once have done, my beatriz; though it is still my fatherland, dearest and best of all lands to me. and you, my beloved?" "where thou art is my country, don juan. besides," she added softly, "god is everywhere. and think what it will be to worship him in peace, none making us afraid." "and you, my brave, true-hearted dolores?" asked don juan. "señor don juan, my country is _there_; with those that i love best," said dolores, with an upward glance of the large wistful eyes, which had yet, in their sorrowful depths, a look of peace unknown in past days. "what is spain to me--spain, that would not give to the noblest of them all a few feet of her earth for a grave?" "do not let us stain with one bitter thought our last look at those shores," said don juan, with the gentleness that was growing upon him of late. "remember that they who denied a grave to our beloved, are powerless to rob us of one precious memory of him. his grave is in our hearts; his memorial is the faith which every one of us now standing here has learned from him." "that is true." said doña beatriz. "i think that not all thy teaching, don juan, made me understand what 'precious faith' is, until i learned it by his death." "he gave up all for christ, freely and joyfully," juan continued. "while i gave up nothing, save as it was wrenched from my unwilling hand. therefore for him there is the 'abundant entrance,' the 'crown of glory.' for me, at the best, 'seekest thou great things for thyself, seek them not. but thy life will i give unto thee for a prey in all places whither thou goest.'" fray sebastian drew near at the moment, and happening to overhear the last words, he asked, "have you any plan, señor, as to whither you will go?" "i have no plan," don juan answered. "but i think god will guide us. i have indeed a dream," he added, after a pause, "which may, or may not, come true eventually. my thoughts often turn to that great new world, where, at least, there should be room for truth and liberty. it was our childhood's dream, to go forth to the new world and to find our father. and the lesser half of it, comparatively worthless as it is, may fitly fall to my lot to fulfil, another worthier than i having done the rest." his voice grew gentler, his whole countenance softened as he continued,--"that the prize was his, not mine, i rejoice. it is but an earnest of the nobler victory, the grander triumph, he enjoys now, amongst those who stand evermore before the king of kings--called, chosen, and faithful." historical note. it may be asked by some thoughtful reader who has followed the narrative of the foregoing pages, how much is fact, how much fiction? as the writers sole object is to reveal, to enforce, and to illustrate truth, an answer to the question is gladly supplied. all is fact, except what concerns the personal history of the brothers and their family. whatever relates to the rise, progress, and downfall of the protestant church in spain, is strictly historical. especially may be mentioned the story of the two great autos at seville. but much of interest on the subject remains untold, as nothing was taken up but what would naturally amalgamate with the narrative; and it was not designed to supersede history, only to stimulate to its study. except in the instance of a conversation with juliano hernandez, another with don carlos de seso, and a few words required by the exigencies of the tale from losada, the glorious martyr names have been left untouched by the hand of fiction. it was a sense of their sacredness which led the writer to choose for hero a character not historical, but typical and illustrative. but nothing is told of him which did not occur over and over again, if we except the act of mercy which is supposed to have shed a brightness over his last days. he is merely a given example, a specimen of the ordinary fate of such prisoners of the inquisition as were enabled to remain faithful to the end; and, thank god, these were numerous. he is even a favourable specimen; for the conditions of art require that in a work of fiction a veil should be thrown over some of the worst horrors of persecution. those who accuse protestant writers of exaggeration in these matters, little know what they say. easily could we show greater abominations than these; 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or, strength in weakness. a tale. by elmer burleigh. illustrated. post vo, cloth extra. price s. d. _replete with touching, often saddening, and frequently amusing incidents._ special prize tale. =every-day doings.= by hellena richardson. with six illustrations. post vo, cloth extra. price s. d. _a prize temperance tale, "written for an earnest purpose," and consisting almost entirely of facts._ * * * * * =by uphill paths=; or, waiting and winning. a story of work to be done. by e. van sommer, author of "lionel franklin's victory." post vo, cloth extra. price s. d. =true to his colours=; or, the life that wears best. by the rev. t.p. wilson, m.a., vicar of pavenham, author of "frank oldfield," etc. with six engravings. post vo, cloth extra. price s. d. _an interesting tale--the scene laid in england--illustrating the influence over others for good of one consistent christian man and temperance advocate._ * * * * * t. nelson and sons, london edinburgh, and new york. transcriber's note: there were a number of printing errors in this book. these have been corrected silently. the following errors in spelling have been changed. desengãno is now desengaño persume is now presume. the oe ligature has been expanded. the international theological library edited by charles a. briggs, d.d., _professor of theological encyclopædia and symbolics, union theological seminary, new york_; and the late stewart d. f. salmond, d.d., _principal, and professor of systematic theology and new testament exegesis, united free church college, aberdeen_. a history of the reformation. by thomas m. lindsay, d.d., ll.d. in two volumes--vol. ii. international theological library a history of the reformation by thomas m. lindsay, d.d., ll.d. principal, the united free church college, glasgow in two volumes volume ii _the reformation in switzerland, france the netherlands, scotland and england the anabaptist and socinian movements the counter-reformation_ with map of the reformation and counter-reformation ( - ). edinburgh t. & t. clark, george street preface. in this volume i have endeavoured to fulfil the promise made in the former one to describe the reformed churches, the anabaptist and socinian movements and the counter-reformation in the sixteenth century. it has been based on a careful study of contemporary sources of information, and no important fact has been recorded for which there is not contemporary evidence. full use has been made of work done by predecessors in the same field. the sources and the later books consulted have been named at the beginning of each chapter; but special reference is due to the writings of professor pollard on the reigns of henry viii. and edward vi., and to those of mm. lemonnier and mariéjol for the history of protestantism in france. the sources consulted are, for the most part, printed in calendars of state papers issued by the various governments of europe, or in the correspondence of prominent men and women of the sixteenth century, edited and published for historical and archæological societies; but the calendar of state papers, domestic, relating to the reigns of edward vi., mary, and elizabeth, is little more than a brief account of the contents of the documents, and has to be supplemented by reference to the original documents in the record office. the field covered in this volume is so extensive that the accounts of the rise and progress of the reformation in the various countries included had to be very much condensed. i have purposely given a larger space to the beginnings of each movement, believing them to be less known and more deserving of study. one omission must be noted. nothing has been said directly about the reformed churches in bohemia, hungary, and the neighbouring lands. it would have been easy to devote a few pages to the subject: but such a brief description would have been misleading. the rise, continuance, and decline of these churches are so inseparably connected with the peculiar social and political conditions of the countries, that no adequate or informing account of them could be given without largely exceeding the limits of space at my disposal. after the volume had been fully printed, and addition or alteration was impossible, two important documents bearing on subjects discussed came into my hands too late for references in the text. i have found that the library of the technical college in glasgow contains a copy, probably unique, of the famous hymn-book of the _brethren_ published at ulm in . it is entitled: _ein hubsch neu gesangbuch darinnen begrieffen die kirchenordnung und geseng die zür lants kron und fulneck in behem, von der christlichen bruderschafft den piccarden, die bishero für unchristen und ketzer gehalten, gebraucht und teglich gutt zum ehren gesungen werden._ gedruckt zu ulm bey hans varnier. an. mdxxxviii. i know of a copy of much later date in nürnberg; but of no perfect copy of this early impression. it is sufficient to say that the book confirms what i have said of the character of the religion of the _brethren_. then in december , señor henriques published at lisbon the authentic records of the trial of george buchanan and two fellow professors in the coimbra college before the inquisition. these records show that the prosecution had not been instigated by the jesuits, as was generally conjectured, but was due to the malice of a former principal of the college. the statement made on p. has therefore to be corrected. the kindness of the publishers has provided an historical map, which i trust will be found useful. it gives, i think for the first time, a representation to the eye of the wide extent of the anabaptist movement. the red bars denote districts where contemporary documents attest the existence of anabaptist communities. at least four maps, representing successive periods, would be needed to show with exactness the shifting boundaries of the various confessions: one map can only give the general results. my thanks are again due to my colleague, dr. denney, and to another friend, for the care they have taken in revising the proof sheets, and for many valuable suggestions. thomas m. lindsay. _january_, . contents book iii. the reformed churches. chapter i. introduction. page § . the limitations of the peace of augsburg § . the reformation outside germany § . the reformed type of doctrine § . the reformed ideal of ecclesiastical government § . the influence of humanism on the reformed churches § . what the reformed churches owed to luther § . national characteristics as they affected the reformation chapter ii. the reformation in switzerland under zwingli. § . the political condition of switzerland § . zwingli's youth and education § . zwingli at glarus and at einsiedeln § . zwingli in zurich § . the public disputations § . the reformation outside zurich in basel--oecolampadius and william farel in bern--the _ten theses_ in appenzell and other cantons _the christian civic league_ (protestant). _the christian union_ (romanist) § . the sacramental controversy chapter iii. the reformation in geneva under calvin. § . geneva § . the reformation in western switzerland farel and his band of evangelists § . farel in geneva bern, freiburg, and geneva the public disputation and the _thèses Évangéliques_ § . calvin: youth and education _christianæ religionis institutio_ § . calvin with farel in geneva _articuli de regimine ecclesiæ_--discipline in the church the theologians of eastern switzerland and excommunication calvin and farel banished from geneva calvin recalled to geneva--_les ordonnances ecclésiastiques de l'Église de genève_ what calvin did for geneva chapter iv. the reformation in france. § . marguerite d'angoulême and the "group of meaux" § . attempts to repress the movement for reform § . change in the character of the movement for reform § . calvin and his influence in france § . persecution under henry ii. § . the organisation of the french protestant church § . reaction against persecution § . the higher aristocracy won for the reformation in france § . france ruled by the guises § . catherine de' medici becomes regent § . the conference at poissy § . the massacre at vassy § . the beginning of the wars of religion § . the massacre of st. bartholomew § . the huguenot resistance after the massacre § . the beginnings of the league § . the league becomes disloyal § . the day of barricades § . the king takes refuge with the huguenots § . the declaration of henry iv. § . henry iv. becomes a roman catholic § . the edict of nantes chapter v. the reformation in the netherlands. § . the political situation § . the beginnings of the reformation § . the anabaptists in the netherlands § . philip of spain and the netherlands § . william of orange chapter vi. the reformation in scotland. preparation for the reformation lollardy in scotland lutheran writings in scotland the beginnings of the reformation george wishart john knox, early work in scotland knox in england, in switzerland, and at frankfurt the "band subscrived by the lords." "the congregation" knox's final return to scotland knox and cecil. the english alliance _the scots confession of faith_ _the first book of discipline_, or _the policie and discipline of the church_. _the book of common order_ return of queen mary to scotland * * * * * book iv. the reformation in england. chapter i. the church of henry viii. influences in england making for the reformation. lollardy, hatred of the clergy, humanism, luther the marriage of henry and catharine of aragon, and the doubts entertained of its validity the revolt of england from roman jurisdiction the _ten articles_ and the _injunctions_ _the bishops' book_, and its teaching _the english bible_ projected alliance with the german protestants the visitation and dissolution of monasteries the _six articles_ and the _king's book_ chapter ii. the reformation under edward vi. the _injunctions_ and the _articles of inquiry_ the condition of the english clergy _the first prayer-book of king edward vi._ continental reformers in england _the second prayer-book of king edward vi._ beginnings of the controversy about vestments chapter iii. the reaction under mary. the beginnings of queen mary's reign the restoration of england to the papal obedience the _injunctions_ and the visitation the revival of heresy laws and the persecutions the martyrdom of cranmer chapter iv. the settlement under elizabeth. elizabeth resolves to be a protestant. the political situation the _act of supremacy_ and the _act of uniformity_ the elizabethan prayer-book the _act of uniformity_ and the rubric about _ornaments_ the dealings with recalcitrant clergymen _the thirty-nine articles_ how discipline was regulated the character of the elizabethan settlement * * * * * book v. anabaptism and socinianism. chapter i. revival of mediÆval anti-ecclesiastical movements. mediæval nonconformists the anti-trinitarians chapter ii. anabaptism. the mediæval roots of anabaptism anabaptism organisation varieties of teaching among the anabaptists anabaptists object to a state church the anabaptists in switzerland. their persecution anabaptist hymnology the kingdom of god in münster bernhard rothmann and his work in münster dutch anabaptists in münster polygamy in münster chapter iii. socinianism. lelio and fausto sozzini socinianism took its rise from a criticism of doctrines socinianism and the scoto-pelagian theology the doctrines of god, the work of christ and the church * * * * * book vi. the counter-reformation. chapter i. the necessity of a reformation of some sort universally admitted. variety of complaints against the mediæval church formation of local churches chapter ii. the spanish conception of a reformation. § . the religious condition of spain § . the reformation under ximenes § . the spaniards and luther § . pope adrian vi. and the spanish reformation chapter iii. italian liberal roman catholics and their conception of a reformation. § . the religious condition of italy § . italian roman catholic reformers § . cardinals contarini and caraffa § . the conference at regensburg chapter iv. ignatius loyola and the company of jesus. § . at manresa § . ignatius at paris. the ecclesiastical situation at paris § . _the spiritual exercises_ § . ignatius in italy § . _the society of jesus_ chapter v. the council of trent. § . the assembling of the council § . procedure at the council § . restatement of doctrines the doctrine of the rule of faith original sin and justification § . the second meeting of the council § . the third meeting of the council the position of the pope strengthened chapter vi. the inquisition and the index. § . the inquisition in spain § . the inquisition in italy § . the index of prohibited books § . the society of jesus and the counter-reformation book iii. _the reformed churches._ chapter i. introduction. § . _the limitations of the peace of augsburg._ the religious peace of augsburg ( ) secured the legal recognition of the reformation within the holy roman empire, and consequently within european polity. henceforward states, which declared through their responsible rulers that they meant to live after the religion described in the _augsburg confession_, were admitted to the comity of nations, and the pope was legally and practically debarred from excommunicating them, from placing them under _interdict_, and from inviting obedient neighbouring potentates to conquer and dispossess their sovereigns. the bishop of rome could no longer, according to the recognised custom of the holy roman empire, launch a bull against a lutheran prince and expect to have its execution enforced as in earlier days. the popes were naturally slow to see this, and had to be reminded of the altered state of matters more than once.[ ] of course, the exalted romanist powers, civil and ecclesiastical, never meant this settlement to be lasting. they intrigued secretly among themselves, and fought openly, against it. the final determined effort to overthrow it was that hideous nightmare which goes by the name of the thirty years' war, mainly caused by the determination of the jesuits that by the help of god _and_ the devil, for that, as carlyle has remarked, was the peculiarity of the plan, all germany must be brought back to the obedience of holy stepmother church, and to submission to the supreme headship of the holy roman empire--the supreme headship becoming more and more shadowy as the years passed. the settlement lasted, however, and remains in general outline until the present. but the religious peace of augsburg did not end the revolt against rome which was simmering in every land in western europe. it made no provision for the multitude of believers in the _augsburg confession_, whose princes, for conscience' sake or for worldly policy, remained steadfast to rome, save that they were to be permitted to emigrate to territories where the rulers were of the same faith as theirs. these lutherans were to be found in every part of germany, and were very abundant in the duchy of austria. the statement of faber, the bishop of vienna, that the only good catholics in that city were himself and the archduke ferdinand, was, of course, rhetorical; but it is a proof of the numbers of the followers of luther.[ ] it chained irrevocably to the romanist creed, by the clause called the _ecclesiastical reservation_, not merely the people, but the rulers in the numerous ecclesiastical principalities scattered all over germany. this provision secured that if an ecclesiastical prince adopted the lutheran faith, he was to be deprived of his principality. it is probable that this provision did more than anything else to secure for the romanists the position they now have in germany. it was partly due to the alarms excited by the fact that albert of brandenburg, master of the teutonic knights, had secularised his land of east prussia and had become a lutheran, and by the narrow escape of the province of köln from following in the same path, under its reforming archbishop, hermann von wied. the peace of augsburg made no provision for any protestants other than those who accepted the augsburg confession; and thousands in the palatinate and all throughout south germany preferred another type of protestant faith. it is probable that, had luther lived for ten or fifteen years longer, the great division between the reformed or calvinist and the evangelical or lutheran churches would have been bridged over; but after his death his successors, intent to maintain, as they expressed it, the deposit of truth which luther had left, actually ostracised melanchthon for his endeavour to heal the breach. the consequence was that the lutheran church within germany after lost large districts to the reformed church. under elector frederick iii., surnamed the pious, the territorial church of the palatinate separated from the circle of lutheran churches, and in the heidelberg catechism was published. this celebrated doctrinal formula at once became, and has remained, the distinctive creed of the various branches of the reformed church within germany; and its influence extended even farther. bremen followed the example of the palatinate in . its divines published a doctrinal _declaration_ in , and a more lengthy _consensus bremenensis_ in . anhalt, under its ruler john george ( - ), did away with the consistorial system of church government, and abandoned the use of luther's catechism. hesse-cassel joined the circle of german reformed churches in . these examples were followed in many smaller principalities, most of which, imitating all the reformed churches, published separate and distinctive confessions of faith, which were nevertheless supposed to contain the sum and substance of the common reformed creed.[ ] these german principalities, rulers and inhabitants, placed themselves deliberately outside the protection of the religious peace of augsburg. the fundamental principles of their faith were not very different from the lutheran, but they were important enough to make them forego the protection which the treaty afforded. setting aside minor differences and sentiments, perhaps more powerful than doctrines, their separation from neighbouring protestants was based on their objection to the doctrine of _ubiquity_, essential to the lutheran theory of the sacrament of the supper, and to the consistorial system of ecclesiastical government. they repudiated the two portions of the lutheran system which were derived professedly from the mediæval church, and insisted on basing their exposition of doctrine and their scheme of ecclesiastical government more directly on the word of god. they had come in contact with another reformation movement, had recognised its sturdier principles, and had become so enamoured of them that they felt compelled to leave the lutheran church for the reformed. still confining ourselves to germany, it is to be noticed that the augsburg confession ostentatiously and over and over again separated those who accepted it from protesters against the mediæval church, who were called anabaptists. it repudiated views supposed to be held by them on baptism, the holy scripture, the possibility of a life of sinless perfection, and the relation of christian men to the magistracy. in some of the truces arranged between the emperor and the evangelical princes,--truces which anticipated the religious peace of augsburg,--attempts were made to induce lutherans and romanists to unite in suppressing those sectaries. it is needless to say that _they_ were not included in the settlement in . yet they had spread all over germany, endured with constancy bloody persecutions, and from them have come the large and influential baptist churches in europe and america. from beginning to end they were outside the lutheran reformation. § . _the reformation outside germany._ when we go beyond germany and survey the other countries of western europe, it is abundantly evident that the story of the lutheran movement from its beginning down to its successful issue in the religious peace of augsburg is only a small part of the history of the reformation. france, great britain, the netherlands, bohemia, hungary, even italy, spain, and poland, throbbed with the religious revival of the sixteenth century, and its manifestations in these lands differed in many respects from that which belonged to germany. all shared with germany the common experiences, intellectual and religious, political and economic, of that period of transition which is called the renaissance in the wider sense of the word--the transition from mediæval to modern life.[ ] they had all come to the parting of the ways. they had all emerged from mediævalism, and all saw the wider outlook which was the heritage of the time. all felt the same longing to shake themselves clear of the incubus of clericalism which weighed heavily on their national life, whether religious or political. each land went forward, marching by its own path marked out for it by its past history, intellectual, religious, and civil. the movements in these various countries towards a freer and more real religious life cannot be described in the same general terms; but if italy and spain be excepted, their attempts at a national reformation had one thing in common which definitely separated them from the lutheran movement. § . _the reformed type of doctrine._ if the type of doctrine professed by the protestants in those countries be considered (confessedly a partial, one-sided, and imperfect standard), it may be said that they all refused to accept some of the distinctive lutheran dogmatic conclusions, and that they all departed more widely from some of the conceptions of the mediæval church. their national confessions in their final forms borrowed more from zurich and geneva than from wittenberg, and they all belong to the reformed as distinguished from the lutheran or evangelical circle of creeds.[ ] it was perhaps natural that differences in the ritual and theory of the holy supper, the very apex and crown of christian public worship, should be to the general eye the visible cleavage between rival forms of christianity. in the earlier stages of the reformation movement, the great popular distinction between the romanists and protestants was that the one refused and the other admitted the laity to partake of the cup of communion; and later, within an orthodox protestantism, the thought of _ubiquity_ was the dividing line. the lutherans asserted and the reformed denied or ignored the doctrine; and those confessions took the reformed view. § . _the reformed ideal of ecclesiastical government._ this similarity of published creed was the one _positive_ bond which united all those churches; but it may also be said that all of them, with the doubtful exception of the church of england,[ ] would have nothing to do with the consistorial system of the lutheran churches, and that most of them accepted in theory at least calvin's conception of ecclesiastical government. they strove to get away from the mediæval ideas of ecclesiastical rule, and to return to the principles which they believed to be laid down for them in the new testament, illustrated by the conduct of the church of the early centuries. the church, according to calvin, was a theocratic democracy, and the ultimate source of authority lay in the membership of the christian community, inspired by the presence of christ promised to all his people. but in the sixteenth century this conception was confronted and largely qualified in practice, by the dread that it might lead to a return to the clerical tutelage of the mediæval church from which they had just escaped. presbyter might become priest writ large; and the leaders of the reformation in many lands could see, as zwingli did in zurich and cranmer in england, that the civil authorities might well represent the christian democracy. even calvin in geneva had to content himself with ecclesiastical ordinances which left the church completely under the control of _les très honnorès seigneurs syndicques et conseil de genève_; and the scottish church in had to recognise that the king was the "supreme governor of this realm as well in things temporal as in the conservation and purgation of religion." the nations and principalities in western europe which had adopted and supported the reformation believed that manifold abuses had arisen in the past, directly and indirectly, through the exemption of the church and its possessions from secular control, and they were determined not to permit the possibility of a return to such a state of things. the scholarship of the renaissance had discovered the true text of the old roman civil code, and one of the features of that time of transition--perhaps its most important and far-reaching feature, for law enters into every relation of human life--was the substitution of civil law based on the codes of justinian and theodosius, for canon law based on the decretum of gratian. these old roman codes taught the lawyers and statesmen of the sixteenth century to look upon the church as a department of the state; and the thought that the christian community had an independent life of its own, and that its guidance and discipline ought to be in the hands of office-bearers chosen by its membership, was everywhere confronted, modified, largely overthrown by the imperious claim of the civilian lawyers. ecclesiastical leaders within the reformed churches might strive as they liked to draw the line between the possessions of the church, which they willingly placed under the control of civil law, and its discipline in matters of faith and morals, which they declared to be the inalienable possession of the church; but, as a rule, the state refused to perceive the distinction, and insisted in maintaining full control over the ecclesiastical jurisdiction. hence it came about that in every land where the secular authorities were favourable to the reformation, the church became more or less subject to the state; and this resulted in a large variety of ecclesiastical organisations in communities all belonging to the reformed church. while it may be said with perfect truth that the churchly ideal in the minds of the leaders in most of the reformed churches was to restore the theocratic democracy of the early centuries, and that this was a strong point of contrast between them and luther, who insisted that the _jus episcopale_ belonged to the civil magistrate, in practice the secular authorities in switzerland, the netherlands, the palatinate, etc., kept almost as tight a hold on the reformed national churches as did the lutheran princes and municipalities. in one land only, france, the ecclesiastical ideal of calvin had full liberty to embody itself in a constitution, and that only because the french reformed church struggled into existence under the civil rule of a romanist state, and, like the christian church of the early centuries, maintained itself in spite of the opposition of the secular authorities which persecuted it. § . _the influence of humanism on the reformed churches._ the portion of the reformation which lay outside the peace of augsburg had another characteristic which distinguished it from the lutheran reformation included within the treaty--it owed much more to humanism. erasmus and what he represented had a greater share in its birth and early progress, and his influence appeared amidst the most dissimilar surroundings. henry viii. and zwingli seem to stand at opposite poles; yet the english autocrat and the swiss democrat were alike in this, that they owed much to erasmus, and that the reformations which they respectively led were largely prompted by the impulse of humanism. one has only to compare the _bishops' book_ and the _king's book_ of the henrican period in england with the many statements erasmus has made about the kind of reformation he desired to see, to recognise that they were meant to serve for a reformation in life and morals which would leave untouched the fundamental doctrinal system of the mediæval church and its organisation in accordance with the principles laid down by the great humanist. the bible, the apostles', nicene, and athanasian creeds, with the doctrinal decisions of the first four oecumenical councils, were recognised as the standards of orthodoxy in the _ten articles_; and the scholastic theology, so derided by erasmus, was contemptuously ignored. the accompanying _injunctions_ set little store by pilgrimages, relics, and indulgences, and the other superstitions of the popular religious life which the great humanist had treated sarcastically. the two books alluded to above are full of instructions for leading a wholesome life. the whole programme of reformation is laid down on lines borrowed from erasmus. zwingli was under the influence of humanism from his boyhood. his young intellect was fed on the masterpieces of classical antiquity--cicero, homer, and pindar. his favourite teacher was thomas wyttenbach, who was half a reformer and half a pure follower of erasmus. no man influenced him more than the learned dutchman. it was his guidance and not the example of luther which made him study the scriptures and the theologians of the early church, such as origen, jerome, and chrysostom. the influence and example of erasmus can be seen even in his attempts to create a rational theory of the holy supper. his reformation, in its beginning more especially, was much more an intellectual than a religious movement. it aimed at a clearer understanding of the holy scriptures, at the purgation of the popular religious life from idolatry and superstition, and at a clearly reasoned out scheme of intellectual belief. the deeper religious impulse which drove luther, step by step, in his path of revolt from the mediæval church was lacking in zwingli. he owed little to wittenberg, much to rotterdam. it was this connection with erasmus that created the sympathy between zwingli and such early dutch reformers as christopher hoen, and made the swiss reformer a power in the earlier stages of the reformation in the netherlands. the beginnings of the reformation movement in france, italy, and spain were even more closely allied to humanism. if the preparation for reformation to be found in the work and teaching of mediæval evangelical nonconformists like the _picards_ be set aside, the beginnings of the reformation in france must be traced to the small group of christian humanists who surrounded marguerite d'angoulême and briçonnet the bishop of meaux. marguerite herself and jacques lefèvre d'Étaples, the real leader of the group of scholars and preachers, found solace for soul troubles in the christian platonism to which so many of the humanists north and south of the alps had given themselves. the aim of the little circle of enthusiasts was a reformation of the church and of society on the lines laid down by erasmus. they looked to reform without "tumult," to a reformation of the church by the church and within the church, brought about by a study of the scriptures, and especially of the epistles of st. paul, by individual christians weaning themselves from the world while they remained in society, and by slowly leavening the people with the enlightenment which the new learning was sure to bring. they cared little for theology, much for intimacy with christ; little for external changes in institutions, much for personal piety. their efforts had little visible effect, and their _via media_ between the stubborn defenders of scholasticism on the one hand and more thorough reformers on the other, was found to be an impossible path to persevere in; but it must not be forgotten that they did much to prepare france for the reformation movement which they really inaugurated; nor that william farel, the precursor of calvin himself in geneva, belonged to the "group of meaux." if humanism influenced the "group of meaux," who were the advance guard of the french reformation, it manifested itself no less powerfully in the training of calvin, who in unconsciously became the leader of the movement. he was one of the earliest and most enthusiastic students of the band of "royal lecturers" appointed by francis i. to give france the benefits of the new learning. he had intimate personal relations with budé and cop, who were allied to the "group of meaux," and were leaders among the humanists in the university. his earliest book, a commentary on the _de clementia_ of seneca, shows how wide and minute was his knowledge of the greek and latin classical authors. like erasmus, he does not seem to have been much influenced by the mystical combination of platonism and christianity which entranced the christian humanists of italy and filled the minds of the "group of meaux"; and like him he broke through the narrow circle of elegant trifling within which most of the italian scholars were confined, and used the new learning for modern purposes. humanism taught him to think imperially in the best fashion of ancient rome, to see that great moral ideas ought to rule in the government of men. it filled him with a generous indignation at the evils which flowed from an abuse of absolute and arbitrary power. the young scholar (he was only three-and-twenty) attacked the governmental abuses of the times with a boldness which revived the best traditions of roman statesmanship. he denounced venal judges who made "justice a public merchandise." he declared that princes who slew their people or subjected them to wholesale persecution were not legitimate rulers, but brigands, and that brigands were the enemies of the whole human race. at a time when persecution was prevalent everywhere, the commentary of the young humanist pleaded for tolerance in language as lofty as milton employed in his _areopagitica_. he was not blind to the defects of the stoical morality displayed in the book he commented upon. he contrasted the stoical indifference with christian sympathy, and stoical individualism with the thought of christian society; but he seized upon and made his own the loftier moral ideas in stoicism, and applied them to public life. luther was great, none greater, in holding up the liberty of the christian man; but there he halted, or advanced beyond it with very faltering step. humanism taught calvin the claims and the duties of the christian society; he proclaimed them aloud, and his thoughts spread throughout that portion of the reformation which followed his leadership and accepted his principles. the holy scriptures, st. augustine, and the imperial ethics of the old roman stoicism coming through humanism, were a trinity of influence on all the reformed churches. the reformation in spain and italy was only a brief episode; but in its short-lived existence in these lands, humanism was one of the greatest forces supporting it and giving it strength. in both countries the young life was quenched in the blood of martyrs. so quickly did it pass, that it seems surprising to learn that erasmus confidently expected that spain would be the land to accomplish the reformation without "tumult" which he so long looked forward to and expected; that the scriptures were read throughout the spanish peninsula, and that women vied with men in knowledge of their contents, during the earlier part of the sixteenth century. § . _what the reformed churches owed to luther._ there was, then, a reformation movement which in its earliest beginnings and in its final outcome was quite distinct from that under the leadership of luther; but it would be erroneous to say that it was altogether outside luther's influence, and that it owed little or nothing to the great german reformer. it is vain to speculate on what might have been, or to ask whether the undoubted movements making for reformation in lands outside germany would have come to fruition had not luther's trumpet-call sounded over europe. it is enough to state what did actually occur. if it cannot be said that the beginnings of the reformation in every land came from luther, it can scarcely be denied that he gave to his contemporaries the inspiration of courage and of assured conviction. he delivered men from the fear of priestcraft; he taught men, in a way that no other did, that redemption was not a secret science practised by the priests within an institution called the church; that all believers had the privilege of direct access to the very presence of god; and that the very thought of a priesthood who alone could mediate between god and man was both superfluous and irreconcilable with the truest instincts of the christian religion. his teaching had a sounding board of dramatic environment which compelled men to listen, to attend, to be impressed, to understand, and to follow. he had been and was a deeply pious man, with the piety of the type most esteemed by his contemporaries, and therefore easily understood and sympathised with by the common man. his piety had driven him into the convent, as then seemed both natural and necessary. inside the monastery he had lived the life of a "young saint"--so his fellow monks believed, when, in the fashion of the day and of their class, they boasted that they had among them one destined to revive again the best type of mediæval saintship. no coarse, vulgar sins of the flesh, common enough at the time and easily condoned, smirched his young life. when he attained to peace in believing, he had no doubt of his vocation; no sudden wrench tore him away from the approved religious life of his time; no intellectual doubt separated him from the beliefs of his church. his very imperviousness to the intellectual liberalising tendencies of humanism made him all the more fit to be a trusted religious leader. he went forward step by step with such a slow, sure foot-tread that the common man could see and follow. when he did come forward as a reformer he did not run amuck at things in general. he felt compelled to attack the _one_ portion of the popular religious life of the times which all men who gave the slightest thought to religion felt to be a gross abuse. the way he dealt with it revealed that he was the great religious genius of his age--an age which was imperatively if confusedly calling for reform within the sphere of religion. if to be original means simply to be the first to see and make known a single truth or a fresh aspect of a truth, it is possible to contest the claim of luther to be an original thinker. it would not be difficult to point out anticipations of almost every separate truth which he taught to his generation. to take two only--wessel had denounced indulgences in language so similar to luther's, that, when the reformer read it long after the publication of the _theses_, he could say that people might well imagine that he had simply borrowed from the old dutch theologian; and lefèvre d'Étaples had taught the doctrine of justification by faith before it had flashed on luther's soul with all the force of a revelation. but if originality be the gift to seize, to combine into one organic whole, separate isolated truths, to see their bearing upon the practical religious life of all men, educated and ignorant, to use the new light to strip the common religious life of all paralysing excrescences, to simplify it and to make it clear that the sum and essence of christianity is "unwavering trust of the heart in him who has given himself to us in christ jesus as our father, personal assurance of faith because christ with his work undertakes our cause," and to do all this with the tenderest sympathy for every true dumb religious instinct which had made men wander away from the simplicity which is in christ jesus, then luther stands alone in his day and generation, unapproachable by any other. hence it was that to the common people in every land in europe up till about , when calvin's individuality began to make itself felt, luther represented the reformation; and all who accepted the new teaching were known as lutherans, whether in england, the low countries, france, or french speaking switzerland.[ ] ecclesiastical historians of the reformed church from the sixteenth century downward have often been inclined to share luther's supremacy with zwingli. the swiss reformer was gifted with many qualities which luther lacked. he stood in freer relation to the doctrines and practices of the mediæval church, and his scheme of theology was perhaps wider and truer than luther's. he had a keener intellectual insight, and was quicker to discern the true doctrinal tendencies of their common religious verities. but the way in which he regarded indulgences, and his manner of protesting against them, showed his great inferiority to luther as a religious guide. "oh the folly of it!" said zwingli with his master erasmus,--"the crass, unmitigated stupidity of it all!" and they scorned it, and laughed at it, and attacked it with the light keen shafts of raillery and derisive wit. "oh the pity of it!" said luther; and he turned men travelling by the wrong road on their quest for pardon (a real quest for them) into the right path. zwingli never seemed to see that under the purchase of indulgences, the tramping on pilgrimages from shrine to shrine, the kissing, reverencing, and adoring of relics, there was a real inarticulate cry for pardon of sins felt if not vividly repented of. luther knew it, and sympathised with it. he was a man of the people, not merely because he was a peasant's son and had studied at a burgher university, but because he had shared the religion of the common people. he had felt with them that the repeated visits of the plague, the new mysterious diseases, the dread of the turks, were punishments sent by god because of the sins of the generation. he had gone through it all; plunged more deeply in the terror, writhed more hopelessly under the wrath of god, wandered farther on the wrong path in his quest for pardon, and at last had seen the "beatific vision." the deepest and truest sympathy with fellow-men and the vision of god are needed to make a reformer of the first rank, and luther had both as no other man had, during the first quarter of the sixteenth century. so men listened to him all over europe wherever there had been a stirring of the heart for reformation, and it would be hard to say where there had been none. czechs, hungarians, and poles in the east; spaniards, englishmen, frenchmen, dutch, and scots in the west; swedes in the north, and italians in the south--all welcomed, and read, and were moved by what luther wrote. first the _theses_, then sermons and tracts, then the trumpet call _to the nobility of the german nation_ and the _præludium to the babylonian captivity of the church of christ_, and, above all, his booklet _on the liberty of a christian man_. as men read, what had been only a hopeful but troubled dream of the night became a vision in the light of day. they heard proclaimed aloud in clear unfaltering speech what they had scarcely dared to whisper to themselves. fond and devout imaginations became religious certainties. they risked all to get possession of the sayings of this "man of god." cautious, dour scotch burghers ventured ship and cargo for the sake of the little quarto tracts hid in the bales of cloth which came to the ports of dundee and leith. oxford and cambridge students passed them from hand to hand in spite of wolsey's proclamations and warham's precautions. luther's writings were eagerly studied in paris by town and university as early as may .[ ] spanish merchants bought luther's books at the frankfurt fair, spent some of their hard won profits in getting them translated and printed in spanish, and carried them over the pyrenees on their pack mules. under the influence of these writings the reformation took shape, was something more than the devout imagination of a few pious thinkers, and became an endeavour to give expression to common religious certainties in change of creed, institutions, and worship. thus luther helped the reformation in every land. the actual beginnings in england, france, the netherlands, and elsewhere had come into existence years before luther had become known; it is possible that the movements might have come to fruition apart from his efforts; but the influence of his writings was like that of the sun when it quickens and makes the seed sprout that has been "happed" in a tilled and sown field. § . _national characteristics._ it was not that the reformation in any of these countries was to become lutheran in the end, or had a lutheran stage of development. the number of genuine lutherans outside germany and scandinavia was very small. here and there a stray one was to be found, like dr. barnes in england or louis berquin in france. one of the deepest principles of the great reformer's teaching itself checked the idea of a purely lutheran reformation which would embrace the whole reformation church. he taught that the practical exercise of faith ought to manifest itself within the great institutions of human life which have their origin in god--in marriage, the family, the calling, and the state, in the ordinary life we lead with its environment. nations have their character and characteristics as well as individual men, and they mould in natural ways the expression in creed and institution of the religious certainties shared by all. the reformation in england was based on the same spiritual facts and forces which were at work in france, germany, and the netherlands, but each land had its own ways of embodying them. it is interesting to note how national habits, memories, and even prejudices compelled the external embodiment to take very varying shapes, and force the historian to describe the reformation in each country as something by itself. the new spiritual life in england took a shape distinctly marked out for it by the almost forgotten reformatory movement under wiclif which had been native to the soil. scotland might have been expected to follow the lead of england, and bring her ecclesiastical reconstruction into harmony with that of her new and powerful ally. the english alliance was the great political fact of the scottish reformation, and leading statesmen in both countries desired the still nearer approach which conformity in the organisation of the churches could not fail to foster. but the memory of the old french alliance was too strong for cecil and lethington, and scotland took her methods of church government from france (not from geneva), and drifted farther and farther away from the model of the english settlement. the fifteenth century war of the public weal repeated itself in the wars of religion in france; and in the edict of nantes the reformed church was offered and accepted guarantees for her independence such as a feudal prince might have demanded. the old political local independence which had characterised the low countries in the later middle ages reasserted itself in the ecclesiastical arrangements of the netherlands. the civic republics of switzerland demanded and received an ecclesiastical form of government which suited the needs of their social and political life. yet amidst all this diversity there was the prevailing sense of an underlying unity, and the knowledge that each national church was part of the catholic church reformed was keener than among the lutheran churches. protestant england in the time of edward vi. welcomed and supported refugees banished by the augsburg interim from strassburg. frankfurt received and provided for families who fled from the marian persecutions in england. geneva became a city of refuge for oppressed protestants from every land, and these strangers frequently added quite a third to her population. the feeling of fraternity was maintained, as in the days of the early church, by constant interchange of letters and messengers, and correspondence gave a sense of unity which it was impossible to embody in external political organisation. the sense of a common danger was also a wonderful bond of kinship; and the feeling that philip of spain was always plotting their destruction, softened inter-ecclesiastical jealousies. the same sort of events occurred in all the churches at almost the same times. the colloquy of westminster ( ) was separated from the colloquy of poissy ( ) by an interval of two years only, and the same questions were discussed at both. queen elizabeth openly declared herself a protestant by partaking of the communion in both "kinds" at easter, ; and on the same day antoine de bourbon, king of navarre, made the same profession in the same way at pau in the south of france. mary of guise resolved that the same festival should see the scots united under the old faith, and thus started the overt rebellion which ended in scotland becoming a protestant nation. the course of the reformation in each country must be described separately, and yet it is the one story with differences due to the accidents of national temperaments, memories, and political institutions. chapter ii. the reformation in switzerland under zwingli. § . _the political condition of switzerland._[ ] switzerland in the sixteenth century was like no other country in europe. it was as divided as germany or italy, and yet it had a unity which they could not boast. it was a confederation or little republic of communes and towns of the primitive teutonic type, in which the executive power was vested in the community. the various cantons were all independent, but they were banded together in a common league, and they had a federal flag--a white cross on a red ground, which bore the motto, "each for all, and all for each." the separate members of the federation had come into existence in a great variety of ways, and all retained the distinctive marks of their earlier history. the beginnings go back to the thirteenth century, when the three forest cantons, schwyz, uri, and unterwalden, having freed themselves from the dominion of their feudal lords, formed themselves into a _perpetual league_ ( ), in which they pledged themselves to help each other to maintain the liberty they had won. after the battle of morgarten they renewed the league at brunnen ( ), promising again to aid each other against all usurping lords. hapsburg, the cradle of the imperial house of austria, lies on the south-east bank of the river aare, and the dread of this great feudal family strengthened the bonds of the league; while the victories of the independent peasants over the house of austria, and later over the duke of burgundy, increased its reputation. the three cantons grew to be thirteen--schwyz, uri, unterwalden, luzern, zurich, bern, glarus, zug, freiburg, basel, schaffhausen, solothurn, and appenzell. other districts, without becoming members of the league, sought its protection, such as the valais and the town and country under the abbey of st. gallen. other leagues were formed on its model among the peasantry of the rhætian alps--in the _league of the house of god_ (_lia da ca' dè_)--at the head of which was the church at chur; in the _graubünden_ (_lia grischa_ or _gray league_); in the _league of the ten jurisdictions_ (_lia della desch dretturas_). these three united in to make the _three perpetual leagues of rhætia_. they were in close alliance with the swiss cantons from the fifteenth century, but did not become actual members of the swiss confederacy until . the confederacy also made some conquests, and the districts conquered were generally governed on forms of mutual agreement between several cantons--a complicated system which led to many bickerings, and intensified the quarrels which religion gave rise to in the sixteenth century. each of these thirteen cantons preserved its own independence and its own mode of government. their political organisation was very varied, and dependent to a large extent on their past history. the forest cantons were communes of peasant proprietors, dwelling in inaccessible valleys, and their diet was an assembly of all the male heads of families. zurich was a manufacturing and commercial town which had grown up under the protection of an old ecclesiastical settlement whose foundation went back to an age beyond that of charles the great. bern was originally a hamlet, nestling under the fortified keep of an old feudal family. in zurich the nobles made one of the "guilds" of the town, and the constitution was thoroughly democratic. bern, on the other hand, was an aristocratic republic. but in all, the power in the last resort belonged to the people, who were all freemen with full rights of citizenship. the swiss had little experience of episcopal government. their relations with the papacy had been entirely political or commercial, the main article of commerce being soldiers to form the pope's bodyguard, and infantry for his italian wars, and the business had been transacted through legates. most of the territory of switzerland was ecclesiastically divided between the archiepiscopal provinces of mainz and besançon, and the river aare was the boundary between them. the division went back to the beginning of christianity in the land. the part of switzerland which lay towards france had been christianised by roman or gallic missionaries; while the rest, which sloped towards germany, had been won to christianity by irish preachers! basel and lausanne figure as bishoprics under besançon; while constance, a bishopric under mainz, asserted episcopal rights over zurich and the neighbourhood. the rugged, mountainous part of the country was vaguely claimed for the province of mainz without being definitely assigned to any diocese. this contributed to make the swiss people singularly independent in all ecclesiastical matters, and taught them to manage their church affairs for themselves. even in zurich, which acknowledged the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the bishop of constance, the council insisted on its right of supervising church properties, and convents were under state inspection. in the beginning of the sixteenth century, intercourse with their neighbours was changing the old simple manners of the swiss. their repeated victories over charles the bold of burgundy had led to the belief that the swiss infantry was the best in europe, and nations at war with each other were eager to hire swiss troops. the custom had gradually grown up among the swiss cantons of hiring out soldiers to those who paid best for them. these mercenaries, demoralised by making merchandise of their lives in quarrels not their own, and by spending their pay in riotous living when they returned to their native valleys, were corrupting the population of the confederacy. the system was demoralising in another way. the two great powers that trafficked in swiss infantry were france and the papacy; and the french king on the one hand, and the pope on the other, not merely kept permanent agents in the various swiss cantons, but gave pensions to leading citizens to induce them to persuade the canton to which they belonged to hire soldiers to the one side or the other. zwingli, in his earlier days, believed that the papacy was the only power with which the swiss ought to ally themselves, and received a papal pension for many years. § . _zwingli's youth and education._[ ] huldreich (ulrich) zwingli, the reformer of switzerland, was born on january st, (fifty-two days after luther), in the hamlet of wildhaus (or wildenhaus), lying in the upper part of the toggenburg valley, raised so high above sea-level ( feet) that fruits refuse to ripen. it lies so exactly on the central watershed of europe, that the rain which falls on the one side of the ridge of the red-tiled church roof goes into a streamlet which feeds the danube, and that which falls on the other finds its way to the rhine. he came third in a large family of eight sons and two daughters. his father, also called huldreich, was the headman of the commune, and his uncle, bartholomew zwingli, was the parish priest. his education was superintended by bartholomew, who became dean of wesen in , and took the small huldreich with him to his new sphere of work. the boy was sent to the school in wesen, where he made rapid progress. bartholomew zwingli was somewhat of a scholar himself. when he discovered that his nephew was a precocious boy, he determined to give him as good an education as was possible, and sent him to basel (klein-basel, on the east bank of the rhine) to a famous school taught, by the gentle scholar, gregory buenzli ( - ). in four years the lad had outgrown the teacher's powers of instruction, and young zwingli was sent to bern to a school taught by the humanist heinrich wölfflin (lupulus), who was half a follower of erasmus and half a reformer. he was passionately fond of music, and lodged in one of the dominican convents in the town which was famed for the care bestowed on musical education. zwingli was so carried away by his zeal for the study, that he had some thoughts of becoming a monk merely to gratify his musical tastes. his family, who had no desire to see him enter a monastery, removed him from bern and sent him to the university of vienna, where he spent two years ( - ). there he had for friends and fellow-students, joachim von watt[ ] (vadianus), heinrich loriti[ ] of glarus (glareanus), johann heigerlin[ ] of leutkirch (faber), and johann maier of eck, the most notable of all luther's opponents. in he returned to switzerland and matriculated in the university of basel. he became b.a. in and m.a. in , and in the same year became parish priest of glarus. the childhood and youth of zwingli form a striking contrast to luther's early years. he enjoyed the rude plenty of a well-to-do swiss farmhouse, and led a joyous young life. he has told us how the family gathered in the _stube_ in the long winter evenings, and how his grandmother kept the children entranced with her tales from the bible and her wonderful stories of the saints. the family were all musical, and they sang patriotic folk-songs, recording in rude verse the glories of morgarten, sempach, and the victories over the tyrant of burgundy. "when i was a child," says zwingli, "if anyone said a word against our fatherland, it put my back up at once." he was trained to be a patriot. "from boyhood i have shown so great, eager, and sincere a love for our honourable confederacy that i trained myself diligently in every act and discipline to this end." his uncle bartholomew was an admirer of the new learning, and the boy was nurtured in everything that went to make a humanist, with all its virtues and failings. he was educated, one might almost say, in the art of enjoying the present without discriminating much between what was good and evil in surrounding society. he was trained to take life as it came. no great sense of sin troubled his youthful years. he never shuddered at the wrathful face of jesus, the judge, gazing at him from blazoned church window. if he was once tempted for a moment to become a monk, it was in order to enjoy musical society, not to quench the sin that was burning him within, and to win the pardon of an angry god. he took his ecclesiastical calling in a careless, professional way. he belonged to a family connected on both sides with the clergy, and he followed the family arrangement. until far on in life the question of personal piety did not seem to trouble him much, and he never belonged, like luther and calvin, to the type of men who are the leaders in a revival of personal religion. he became a reformer because he was a humanist, with a liking for augustinian theology; and his was such a frank, honest nature that he could not see cheats and shams done in the name of religion without denouncing them. to the end of his days he was led more by his intellect than by the promptings of the heart, and in his earlier years he was able to combine a deep sense of responsibility about most things with a careless laxity of moral life. § . _at glarus and einsiedeln._ at glarus he was able to follow his humanist studies, guided by the influences which had surrounded him during his last year at basel. among these his friendship with thomas wyttenbach was the most lasting. wyttenbach taught him, he tells us, to see the evils and abuses of indulgences, the supreme authority of the bible, that the death of christ was the sole price of the remission of sins, and that faith is the key which unlocks to the soul the treasury of remission. all these thoughts he had grasped intellectually, and made much of them in his sermons. he prized preaching highly, and resolved to cultivate the gift by training himself on the models of antiquity. he studied the scriptures, joyfully welcomed the new greek testament of erasmus, published by froben of basel in , when he was at einsiedeln, and copied out from it the whole of the pauline epistles. on the wide margins of his ms. he wrote annotations from erasmus, origen, chrysostom, ambrose, and jerome. it was his constant companion. at glarus he was personally introduced to the system of mercenary war and of pensions in which switzerland had engaged. he went to italy twice as regimental chaplain with the glarus contingent, and was present at the fight at novara ( ), and on the fatal day at marignano ( ). his experiences in these campaigns convinced him of the harm in this system of hiring out the swiss to fight in others' quarrels; and when he became convinced of the evils attending it, he denounced the practice. his outspoken language displeased many of his most influential parishioners, especially those who were partisans of the french, and zwingli resolved to seek some other sphere of work. the post of people's priest at einsiedeln, the famous monastery and pilgrimage resort, was offered to him and accepted (april th, ). he retained his official connection with glarus, and employed a curate to do his parish work. his fame as a preacher grew. his friends desired to see him in a larger sphere, and through their exertions he was appointed to be people's priest in the minster at zurich. an objection had been made to his selection on the ground that he had disgracefully wronged the daughter of a citizen of einsiedeln; and his letter of vindication, while it exonerates him from the particular charge brought against him, shows that he was by no means clear of the laxity in private morals which characterised the swiss clergy of the time. the stipend attached to his office in the great minster was very small, and on this ground zwingli felt himself justified, unwarrantably, in retaining his papal pension.[ ] § . _zwingli in zurich._ zurich, when zwingli went to it, was an imperial city. it had grown up around the great minster and the minster of our lady (the little minster), and had developed into a trading and manufacturing centre. its citizens, probably owing to the ecclesiastical origin of the town, had long engaged in quarrels with the clergy, and had generally been successful. they took advantage of the rivalries between the heads of the two minsters and the emperor's bailiff to assert their independence, and had passed laws subordinating the ecclesiastical authorities to the secular rule. the taxes were levied on ecclesiastical as well as on secular property; all the convents were under civic control, and liable to state inspection. the popes, anxious to keep on good terms with the swiss who furnished soldiers for their wars, had expressly permitted in zurich what they would not have allowed elsewhere. the town was ruled by a council or senate composed of the masters of the thirteen "gilds" (twelve trades' gilds and one gild representing the patriciate). the burgomaster, with large powers, presided. a great council of members was called together on special occasions. the city of zurich, with its thoroughly democratic constitution, was a very fitting sphere for a man like zwingli. he had made a name for himself by this time. he had become a powerful preacher, able to stir and move the people by his eloquence; he was in intimate relations with the more distinguished german humanists, introduced to them by his friend heinrich loriti of glarus (known as glareanus). he had already become the centre of an admiring circle of young men of liberal views. his place as people's preacher gave to a man of his popular gifts a commanding position in the most democratic town in switzerland, where civic and european politics were eagerly discussed. he went there in december . his work as a reformer began almost at once. bernhard samson or sanson, a seller of indulgences for switzerland, came to zurich to push his trade. zwingli had already encountered him at einsiedeln, and, prompted by the bishop of constance and his vicar-general, john faber, both of whom disliked the indulgences, had preached against him. he now persuaded the council of zurich to forbid samson's stay in the town. the papal treatment of the swiss reformer was very different from what had been meted out to luther. samson received orders from rome to give no trouble to the zurichers, and to leave the city rather than quarrel with them. the difference, no doubt, arose from the desire of the _curia_ to do nothing to hinder the supply of swiss soldiers for the papal wars; but it was also justified by the contrast in the treatment of the subject by the two reformers. luther struck at a great moral abuse, and his strokes cut deeply into the whole round of mediæval religious life, with its doctrine of a special priesthood; he made men see the profanity of any claim made by men to pardon sin, or to interfere between their fellow-men and god. zwingli took the whole matter more lightly. his position was that of erasmus and the humanists. he could laugh at and ridicule the whole proceeding, and thought most of the way in which men allowed themselves to be gulled and duped by clever knaves. he never touched the deep practical religious question which luther raised, and which made his challenge to the papacy reverberate over western europe. from the outset zwingli became a prominent figure in zurich. he announced to the astonished chapter of the great minster, to whom he owed his appointment, that he meant to give a series of continuous expositions of the gospel of st. matthew; that he would not follow the scholastic interpretation of passages in the gospel, but would endeavour to make scripture its own interpreter. the populace crowded to hear sermons of this new kind. in order to reach the country people, zwingli preached in the market-place on the fridays, and his fame spread throughout the villages. the franciscans, dominicans, and augustinian eremites tried to arouse opposition, but unsuccessfully. in his sermons he denounced sins suggested in the passages expounded, and found occasion to deny the doctrines of purgatory and the intercession of saints. his strongest attack on the existing ecclesiastical system was made in a sermon on tithes, which, to the distress of the provost of the minster, he declared to be merely voluntary offerings. (he had been reading hus' book _on the church_.) he must have carried most of the chapter with him in his schemes for improvement, for in june the breviary used in the minster was revised by zwingli and stripped of some blemishes. in the following year (march ), some of the zurichers who were known to be among zwingli's warmest admirers, the printer froschauer among them, asserted their convictions by eating flesh meat publicly in lent. the affair made a great sensation, and the reformers were brought before the council of the city. they justified themselves by declaring that they had only followed the teaching of zwingli, who had shown them that nothing was binding on the consciences of christians which was not commanded in the scriptures. zwingli at once undertook their defence, and published his sermon, _selection or liberty concerning foods; an offence and scandal; whether there is any authority for forbidding meat at certain times_ (april th, ). he declared that in such matters the responsibility rests with the individual, who may use his freedom provided he avoids a public scandal. the matter was felt to be serious, and the council, after full debate, passed an ordinance which was meant to be a compromise. it was to the effect that although the new testament makes no rule on the subject, fasting in lent is a very ancient custom, and must not be set aside until dealt with by authority, and that the priests of the three parishes of zurich were to dissuade the people from all violation of the ordinance. the bishop of constance thereupon interfered, and sent a commission, consisting of his suffragan and two others, to investigate and report. they met the small council, and in a long address insisted that the church had authority in such matters, and that the usages it commanded must be obeyed. zwingli appeared before the great council, and, in spite of the efforts of the commission to keep him silent, argued in defence of liberty of conscience. in the end the council resolved to abide by its compromise, but asked the bishop of constance to hold a synod of his clergy and come to a resolution upon the matter which would be in accordance with the law of christ. this resolution of the council really set aside the episcopal authority, and was a revolt against the roman church. political affairs favoured the rebellion. at the swiss diet held at luzern (may ), the cantons, in spite of the vehement remonstrances of zurich, made a treaty with france, and allowed the french king to recruit a force of , swiss mercenaries. zurich, true to its protest, refused to allow recruiting within its lands. its citizens chafed at the loss of money and the separation from the other cantons, and zwingli became very unpopular. he had now made up his mind that the whole system of pensions and mercenary service was wrong, and had resigned his own papal pension. just then the pope asked zurich, which supplied him with half of his bodyguard, for a force of soldiers to be used in defence of his states, promising that they would not be used to fight the french, among whose troops were many swiss mercenaries from other cantons. the council refused. nevertheless, six thousand zurichers set out to join the papal army. the council recalled them, and after some adventures, in one of which they narrowly escaped fighting with the swiss mercenaries in the service of france, they returned home. this expedition, which brought neither money nor honour to the zurichers, turned the tide of popular feeling, and the council forbade all foreign service. when the long connection between zurich and the papacy is considered, this decree was virtually a breach between the city and the pope. it made the path of the reformation much easier (jan. ), and zwingli's open break with the papacy was only a matter of time. it came with the publication of the _archeteles_ (august ), a book hastily written, like all zwingli's works, which contained a defence of all that he had done, and a programme, ecclesiastical and political, for the future. the book increased the zeal of zwingli's opponents. his sermons were often interrupted by monks and others instigated by them. the burgomaster was compelled to interfere in order to maintain the peace of the town. he issued an order on his own authority, without any appeal to the bishop of constance, that the pure word of god was to be preached. at an assembly of the country clergy of the canton, the same decision was reached; and town and clergy were ready to move along the path of reformation. shortly before this (july nd), zwingli and ten other priests petitioned the bishop to permit his clergy to contract legal marriages. the document had no practical effect, save to show the gradual advance of ideas. it disclosed the condition of things that sacerdotal celibacy had produced in switzerland. § . _the public disputations_. in these circumstances, the great council, now definitely on zwingli's side, resolved to hold a public disputation to settle the controversies in religion; and zwingli drafted sixty-seven theses to be discussed. these articles contain a summary of his doctrinal teaching. they insist that the word of god, the only rule of faith, is to be received upon its own authority and not on that of the church. they are very full of christ, the only saviour, the true son of god, who has redeemed us from eternal death and reconciled us to god. they attack the primacy of the pope, the mass, the invocation of the saints, the thought that men can acquire merit by their good works, fasts, pilgrimages, and purgatory. of sacerdotal celibacy he says, "_i know of no greater nor graver scandal than that which forbids lawful marriage to priests, and yet permits them on payment of money to have concubines and harlots. fie for shame!_"[ ] the theses consist of single short sentences. the disputation, the first of the four which marked the stages of the legal reformation in zurich, was held in the town hall of the city on january th, . more than six hundred representative men gathered to hear it. all the clergy of the canton were present; faber watched the proceedings on behalf of the bishop of constance; many distinguished divines from other parts of switzerland were present. faber seems to have contented himself with asking that the disputation should be delayed until a general council should meet, and zwingli replied that competent scholars who were good christians were as able as a council to decide what was the meaning of the holy scriptures. the result of the disputation was that the burgomaster declared that zwingli had justified his teaching, and that he was no heretic. the canton of zurich practically adopted zwingli's views, and the reformer was encouraged to proceed further. his course of conduct was eminently prudent. he invariably took pains to educate the people up to further changes by explaining them carefully in sermons, and by publishing and circulating these discourses. he considered that it was his duty to teach, but that it belonged to the civic authorities to make the changes; and he himself made none until they were authorised. he had very strong views against the use of images in churches, and had preached vigorously against their presence. some of his more ardent hearers began to deface the statues and pictures. the great council accordingly took the whole question into consideration, and decided that a second public disputation should be held, at which the matter might be publicly discussed. this discussion (october ) lasted for two days. more than eight hundred persons were present, of whom three hundred and fifty were clergy. on the first day, zwingli set forth his views on the presence of images in churches, and wished their use forbidden. the council decided that the statues and pictures should be removed from the churches, but without disturbance; the rioters were to be pardoned, but their leader was to be banished from the city for two years. the second day's subject of conference was the mass. zwingli pled that the mass was not a sacrifice, but a memorial of the death of our lord, and urged that the abuses surrounding the simple christian rite should be swept away. the presence of anabaptists at this conference, and their expressions in debate, warned the magistrates that they must proceed cautiously, and they contented themselves with appointing a commission of eight--two from the council and six clergymen--to inquire and report. meanwhile the clergy were to be informed how to act, and the letter of instruction was to be written by zwingli. the authorities also deputed preachers to go to the outlying parts of the canton and explain the whole matter carefully to the people. the letter which zwingli addressed to the clergy of zurich canton is a brief statement of reformation principles. it is sometimes called the _instruction_. zwingli entitles it, _a brief christian introduction which the honourable council of the city of zurich has sent to the pastors and preachers living in its cities, lands, and wherever its authority extends, so that they may henceforth in unison announce and preach the gospel._[ ] it describes sin, the law, god's way of salvation, and then goes on to speak of images. zwingli's argument is that the presence of statues and pictures in churches has led to idolatry, and that they ought to be removed. the concluding section discusses the mass. here the author states very briefly what he elaborated afterwards, that the main thought in the eucharist is not the repetition of the sacrifice of christ, but its faithful remembrance, and that the romish doctrine and ceremony of the mass has been so corrupted to superstitious uses that it ought to be thoroughly reformed. this letter had a marked effect. the village priests everywhere refused to say mass according to the old ritual. but there was a section of the people, including members of the chapter of the minster, who shrunk from changes in this central part of christian worship. in deference to their feelings, the council resolved that the holy supper should be meanwhile dispensed according to both the reformed and the mediæval rite; in the one celebration the cup was given to the laity, and in the other it was withheld. no change was made in the liturgy. then came a third conference, and a fourth; and at last the mass was abolished. on april th, , the first evangelical communion service took place in the great minster, and the mediæval worship was at an end. other changes had been made. the monasteries had been secularised, and the monks who did not wish to leave their calling were all gathered together in the franciscan convent. an amicable arrangement was come to about other ecclesiastical foundations, and the money thus secured was mainly devoted to education. from , zwingli had been living in "clerical" marriage with anna reinhard, the widow of a wealthy zurich burgher. she was called his wife by his friends, although no legal marriage ceremony had been performed. it is perhaps difficult for us to judge the man and the times. the so-called "clerical" marriages were universal in switzerland. man and woman took each other for husband and wife, and were faithful. there was no public ceremony. all questions of marriage, divorce, succession, and so forth, were then adjudicated in the ecclesiastical and not in the civil courts; and as the canon law had insisted that no clergyman could marry, all such "clerical" marriages were simple concubinage in the eye of the law, and the children were illegitimate. the offence against the vow of chastity was condoned by a fine paid to the bishop. as early as , william röubli, a zurich priest, went through a public form of marriage, and his example was followed by others; but it may be questioned whether these marriages were recognised to be legal until zurich passed its own laws about matrimonial cases in . luther in his pure-hearted and solemnly sympathetic way had referred to these clerical marriages in his _address to the christian nobility of the german nation_ ( ). "we see," he says, "how the priesthood is fallen, and how many a poor priest is encumbered with a woman and children, and burdened in his conscience, and no man does anything to help him, though he might very well be helped.... i will not conceal my honest counsel, nor withhold comfort from that unhappy crowd, who now live in trouble with wife and children, and remain in shame, with a heavy conscience, hearing their wife called a priest's harlot and the children bastards.... i say that these two (who are minded in their hearts to live together always in conjugal fidelity) are surely married before god." he had never succumbed to the temptations of the flesh, and had kept his body and soul pure; and for that very reason he could sympathise with and help by his sympathy those who had fallen. zwingli, on the other hand, had deliberately contracted this illicit alliance after he had committed himself to the work of a reformer. the action remains a permanent blot on his character, and places him on a different level from luther and from calvin. it has been already noted that zwingli had always an intellectual rather than a spiritual appreciation of the need of reformation,--that he was much more of a humanist than either luther or calvin,--but what is remarkable is that we have distinct evidence that the need of personal piety had impressed itself on him during these years, and that he passed through a religious crisis, slight compared with that of luther, but real so far as it went. he fell ill of the plague (sept.-nov. ), and the vision of death and recovery drew from him some hymns of resignation and thanksgiving.[ ] the death of his brother andrew (nov. ) seems to have been the real turning-point in his inward spiritual experience, and his letters and writings are evidence of its reality and permanence. perhaps the judgment which a contemporary and friend, martin bucer, passed ought to content us: "when i read your letter to capito, that you had made public announcement of your marriage, i was almost beside myself in my satisfaction. for it was the one thing i desired for you.... i never believed you were unmarried after the time when you indicated to the bishop of constance in that tract that you desired this gift. but as i considered the fact that you were thought to be a fornicator by some, and by others held to have little faith in christ, i could not understand why you concealed it so long, and that the fact was not declared openly, and with candour and diligence. i could not doubt that you were led into this course by considerations which could not be put aside by a conscientious man. however that may be, i triumph in the fact that now you have come up in all things to the apostolic definition."[ ] the reformation was spreading beyond zurich. evangelical preachers had arisen in many of the other cantons, and were gaining adherents. § . _the reformation outside zurich_. basel, the seat of a famous university and a centre of german humanism, contained many scholars who had come under the influence of thomas wyttenbach, zwingli's teacher. wolfgang fabricius capito, a disciple of erasmus, a learned student of the scriptures, had begun as early as to show how the ceremonies and many of the usages of the church had no authority from the bible. he worked in basel from to . johannes oecolampadius (hussgen or heusgen), who had been one of luther's supporters in , came to basel in as lecturer on the holy scriptures in the university. his lectures and his sermons to the townspeople caused such a movement that the bishop forbade their delivery. the citizens asked for a public disputation. two held in the month of december --the one conducted by a priest of the name of stör against clerical celibacy, and the other led by william farel[ ]--raised the courage of the evangelical party. in february the council of the town installed oecolampadius as the preacher in st. martin's church, and authorised him to make such changes as the word of god demanded. this was the beginning. oecolampadius became a firm friend of zwingli's, and they worked together. in bern also the reformation made progress. berthold haller[ ] and sebastian meyer[ ] preached the gospel with courage for several years, and were upheld by the painter nicolaus manuel, who had great influence with the citizens. the council decided to permit freedom in preaching, if in accordance with the word of god; but they refused to permit innovations in worship or ceremonies; and they forbade the introduction of heretical books into the town. the numbers of the evangelical party increased rapidly, and in the beginning of they had a majority in both the great and the small councils. it was then decided to have a public disputation. the occasion was one of the most momentous in the history of the reformation in switzerland. hitherto zurich had stood alone; if bern joined, the two most powerful cantons in switzerland would be able to hold their own. there was need for union. the forest cantons had been uttering threats, and zwingli's life was not secure. bern was fully alive to the importance of the proposed discussion, and was resolved to make it as imposing as possible, and that the disputants on both sides should receive fair play and feel themselves in perfect freedom and safety. they sent special invitations to the four bishops whose dioceses entered their territories--the bishops of constance, basel, valais, and lausanne; and they did their best to assemble a sufficient number of learned romanist theologians.[ ] they promised not only safe-conducts, but the escort of a herald to and from the canton.[ ] it soon became evident, however, that the romanist partisans had no great desire to come to the _disputation_. none of the bishops invited appears to have even thought of being present save the bishop of lausanne, and he found reasons for declining.[ ] the _disputation_ was viewed with anxiety by the romanist partisans, and in a letter sent from speyer (december th) the emperor charles v. strongly remonstrated with the magistrates of bern.[ ] the bernese were not to be intimidated. they issued their invitations, and made every arrangement to give éclat to the great disputation.[ ] berthold haller, with the help of zwingli, had drafted ten _theses_, which were to be defended by himself and his colleague, francis kolb; zwingli had translated them into latin and farel into french for the benefit of strangers; and they were sent out with the invitations. they were--( ) the holy catholic church, of which christ is the only head, is born of the word of god, abides therein, and does not hear the voice of a stranger.[ ] ( ) the church of christ makes no law nor statute apart from the word of god, and consequently those human ordinances which are called the commandments of the church do not bind our consciences unless they are founded on the word of god and agreeable thereto. ( ) christ is our wisdom, righteousness, redemption, and price for the sins of the whole world; and all who think they can win salvation in any other way, or have other satisfaction for their sins, renounce christ. ( ) it is impossible to prove from scripture that the body and blood of christ are corporeally present in the bread of the holy supper. ( ) the mass, in which christ is offered to god the father for the sins of the living and the dead, is contrary to the holy scripture, is a gross affront to the passion and death of christ, and is therefore an abomination before god. ( ) since christ alone died for us, and since he is the only mediator and intercessor between god and believers, he only ought to be invoked; and all other mediators and advocates ought to be rejected, since they have no warrant in the holy scripture of the bible. ( ) there is no trace of purgatory after death in the bible; and therefore all services for the dead, such as vigils, masses, and the like, are vain things. ( ) to make pictures and adore them is contrary to the old and new testament, and they ought to be destroyed where there is the chance that they may be adored. ( ) marriage is not forbidden to any estate by the holy scripture, but wantonness and fornication are forbidden to everyone in whatever estate he may be. ( ) the fornicator is truly excommunicated by the holy scripture, and therefore wantonness and fornication are much more scandalous among the clergy than in the other estate. these _theses_ represent in succinct fashion the preaching in the reformed church in switzerland, and the fourth states in its earliest form what grew to be the zwinglian doctrine of the holy supper.[ ] the council of bern had sent invitations to be present to the leading preachers in the evangelical cities of germany and switzerland. bucer and capito came from strassburg, jacob augsburger from mühlhausen, ambrose blaarer from constance, sebastian wagner,[ ] surnamed hofmeister (oeconomus), from schaffhausen, oecolampadius from basel, and many others.[ ] zwingli's arrival was eagerly expected. the zurichers were resolved not to trust their leader away from the city without a strong guard, and sent him to bern with an escort of three hundred men-at-arms. a great crowd of citizens and strangers filled the arcades which line both sides of the main street, and every window in the many-storied houses had its sightseers to watch the zurichers tramping up from gate to cathedral with their pastor safe in the centre of the troop. romanist theologians did not muster in anything like the same strength. the men of the four forest cantons stood sullenly aloof; the authorities in french-speaking switzerland had no liking for the disputation, and the strongly romanist canton of freiburg did its best to prevent the theologians of neuchâtel, morat, and grandson from appearing at bern; but in spite of the hindrances placed in their way no less than three hundred and fifty ecclesiastics gathered to the disputation. the conference was opened on january th (_le dimenche après la feste de la circuncision_),[ ] and was continued in german till the th; on the th a second discussion, lasting two days, was begun, for the benefit of strangers, in latin. "when _la dispute des welches_ (strangers) was opened, a stranger doctor (of paris) came forward along with some priests speaking the same language as himself. he attacked the _ten theses_, and william farel, preacher at aigle, answered him."[ ] the more distinguished romanist theologians who were present seem to have refrained from taking part in the discussion. the bishop of lausanne defended their silence on the grounds that they objected to discuss such weighty matters in the vulgar tongue; that no opportunity was given to them to speak in latin; and that when the emperor had interdicted the disputation they were told by the authorities of bern that they might leave the city if it so pleased them.[ ] the result of the disputation was that the authorities and citizens of bern were confirmed in their resolve to adopt the reformation. the disputation ended on the th of january ( ), and on the th of february the mass was declared to be abolished, and a sermon took its place; images were removed from the churches; the monasteries were secularised, and the funds were used partly for education and partly to make up for the french and papal pensions, which were now definitely renounced, and declared to be illegal. the two sermons which zwingli preached in the cathedral during the disputation made a powerful impression on the people of bern. it was after one of them that m. de watteville, the advoyer or president of the republic, declared himself to be convinced of the truth of the evangelical faith, and with his whole family accepted the reformation. his eldest son, a clergyman whose family interest had procured for him no less than thirteen benefices, and who, it was commonly supposed, would be the next bishop of lausanne, renounced them all to live the life of a simple country gentleman.[ ] the republic of bern for long regarded the _ten theses_ as the charter of its religious faith. not content with declaring the reformation legally established within the city, the authorities of bern sent despatches or delegates to all the cities and lands under their control, informing them of what they had done, and inviting them to follow their example. they insisted that preachers of the gospel must be at liberty to deliver their message without interruption throughout all their territories. they promised that they would maintain the liberty of both cults until means had been taken to find out which the majority of the inhabitants preferred, and that the decision would be taken by vote in presence of commissioners sent down from bern.[ ] when the majority of the parishioners accepted the reformation, the new doctrinal standard was the _ten theses_, and the council of bern sent directions for the method of dispensing the sacraments of baptism and the lord's supper, and for the solemnisation of marriages. the whole of the german-speaking portion of the canton proper and its dependences seem to have accepted the reformation at once. bern had, besides, some french-speaking districts under its own exclusive control, and others over which it ruled along with freiburg. the progress of the new doctrines was slower in these district, but it may be said that they had all embraced the reformation before the end of . the history of the reformation in french-speaking switzerland belongs, however, to the next chapter, and the efforts of bern to evangelise its subjects in these districts will be described there. not content with this, the council of bern constituted itself the patron and protector of persecuted protestants outside their own lands, and the evangelisation of western switzerland owed almost everything to its fostering care.[ ] thus bern in the west and zurich in the east stood forth side by side pledged to the reformation. the cantonal authorities of appenzell had declared, as early as , that gospel preaching was to have free course within their territories. thomas wyttenbach had been people's priest in biel from , and had leavened the town with his evangelical preaching. in he courageously married. the ecclesiastical authorities were strong enough to get him deposed; but a year or two later the citizens compelled the cantonal council to permit the free preaching of the gospel. sebastian hofmeister preached in schaffhausen, and induced its people to declare for the reformation. st. gallen was evangelised by the humanist joachim von watt (vadianus), and by john kessler, who had studied at wittenberg. in german switzerland only luzern and the forest cantons remained completely and immovably attached to the roman church, and refused to tolerate any evangelical preaching within their borders. the swiss confederacy was divided ecclesiastically into two opposite camps. the strong religious differences could not but affect the political cohesion of the swiss confederacy, linked together as it was by ties comparatively slight. the wonder is that they did not altogether destroy it. as early as , the bishop of constance had asked the swiss federal diet at their meeting at baden to prohibit the preaching of the reformation doctrines within the federation; and the next year the diet, which met again at baden (sept. ), issued a declaration that all who practised religious innovations were worthy of punishment. the deputies from luzern were especially active in inducing the diet to pass this resolution. the attempt to use the federation for the purpose of religious persecution, therefore, first came from the romanist side. nor did they content themselves with declarations in the diet. the romanist canton of unterwalden, being informed that some of the peasants in the bernese oberland had complained that the reformation had been forced upon them, crossed the bernese frontier and committed an act of war. bern smarted under the insult. these endeavours on the part of his opponents led zwingli to meditate on plans for leaguing together for the purposes of mutual defence all who had accepted the reformation. his plans from the first went beyond the swiss confederacy. the imperial city of constance, the seat of the diocese which claimed ecclesiastical authority over zurich, had been mightily moved by the preaching of ambrose blaarer, and had come over to the protestant faith. the bishop retired to meersburg and his chapter to ueberlingen. the city feared the attack of austria, and craved protection from the swiss protestants. its alliance was valuable to them, for, along with lindau, it commanded the whole lake of constance. zurich thereupon asked that constance be admitted within the swiss federation. this was refused by the federal diet (nov. ). zurich then entered into a _christian civic league_ (_das christliche bürgerrecht_) with constance,--a league based on their common religious beliefs,--promising to defend each other if attacked. the example once set was soon followed, and the two following years saw the league increasing rapidly. bern joined in june , st. gallen in nov. , biel in january, mühlhausen in february, basel in march, and schaffhausen in october, . strassburg was admitted in january . even hesse and würtemburg washed to join. bern and zurich came to an agreement that evangelical preaching must be allowed in the common lands, and that no one was to be punished for his religious opinions. the combination looked so threatening and contained such possibilities that ferdinand of austria proposed a counter-league among the romanist cantons; and a _christian union_, in which luzern, zug, schwyz, uri, and unterwalden allied themselves with the duchy of austria, was founded in , having for its professed objects the preservation of the mediæval religion, with some reforms carried out under the guidance of the ecclesiastical authorities. the confederates pledged themselves to secure for each other the right to punish heretics. this league had also its possibilities of extension. it was thought that bavaria and salzburg might join. the canton of the valais had already leagued itself with savoy against geneva, and brought its ally within the _christian union_. the very formation of the leagues threatened war, and occasions of hostilities were not lacking. austria was eager to attack constance, and bern longed to punish unterwalden for its unprovoked invasion of bernese territory. the condition and protection of the evangelical population in the common lands and in the free bailiwicks demanded settlement, more especially as the romanist cantons had promised to support each other in asserting their right to punish heretics. war seemed to be inevitable. schaffhausen, appenzell, and the graubünden endeavoured to mediate; but as neither zurich nor bern would listen to any proposals which did not include the right of free preaching, their efforts were in vain. the situation, difficult enough, was made worse by the action of the canton of schwyz, which, having caught a zurich pastor named kaiser on its territory, had him condemned and burnt as a heretic. this was the signal for war. it was agreed that the zurichers should attack the romanist cantons, while bern defended the common lands, and, if need be, the territory of her sister canton. the plan of campaign was drafted by zwingli himself, who also laid down the conditions of peace. his proposals were, that the forest cantons must allow the free preaching of the gospel within their lands; that they were to forswear pensions from any external power, and that all who received them should be punished both corporeally and by fine; that the alliance with austria should be given up; and that a war indemnity should be paid to zurich and to bern. while the armies were facing each other the zurichers received a strong appeal from hans oebli, the landamann of glarus, to listen to the proposals of the enemy. the common soldiers disliked the internecine strife. they looked upon each other as brothers, and the outposts of both armies were fraternising. in these circumstances the zurich army (for it was the swiss custom that the armies on the field concluded treaties) accepted the terms of peace offered by their opponents. the treaty is known as the first peace of kappel (june ). it provided that the alliance between austria and the romanist cantons should be dissolved, and the treaties "pierced and slit" (the parchments were actually cut in pieces by the dagger in sight of all); that in the common lands no one was to be persecuted for his religious opinions; that the majority should decide whether the old faith was to be retained or not, and that bailiffs of moderate opinions should be sent to rule them; that neither party should attack the other because of religion; that a war indemnity should be paid by the romanist cantons to zurich and bern (the amount was fixed at sonnenkronen); and that the abolition of foreign pensions and mercenary service should be recommended to luzern and the forest cantons. the treaty contained the seeds of future war; for the zurichers believed that they had secured the right of free preaching within the romanist cantons, while these cantons believed that they had been left to regulate their own internal economy as they pleased. zwingli would have preferred a settlement after war, and the future justified his apprehensions. three months after the first peace of kappel, zwingli was summoned to the marburg colloquy, and the reformation in switzerland became inevitably connected with the wider sphere of german ecclesiastical politics. it may be well, however, to reserve this until later, and finish the internal history of the swiss movement. the first peace of kappel was only a truce, and left both parties irritated with each other. the friction was increased when the protestants discovered that the romanist cantons would not admit free preaching within their territories. they also shrewdly suspected that, despite the tearing and burning of the documents, the understanding with austria was still maintained. an event occurred which seemed to justify their suspicions. an italian condottiere, giovanni giacomo de' medici, had seized and held ( - ) the strong position called the rocco di musso on the lake of como, and from this stronghold he dominated the whole lake. this ruffian had murdered martin paul and his son, envoys from the graubünden to milan, and had crossed the lake and harried the fertile valley of the adda, known as the val tellina, which was then within the territories of the graubünden (grisons). the swiss confederacy were bound to defend their neighbours; but when appeal was made, the romanist cantons refused, and the hand of austria was seen behind the refusal. besides, at the federal diets the romanist cantons had refused to listen to any complaints of persecutions for religion within their lands. at a meeting between zurich and her allies, it was resolved that the romanist cantons should be compelled to abolish the system of foreign pensions, and permit free preaching within their territories. zurich was for open war, but the advice of bern prevailed. it was resolved that if the romanist cantons would not agree to these proposals, zurich and her allies should prevent wine, wheat, salt, and iron from passing through their territories to the forest cantons. the result was that the forest cantons declared war, invaded zurich while that canton was unprepared, fought and won the battle of kappel, at which zwingli was slain. he had accompanied the little army of zurich as its chaplain. the victory of the romanists produced a second peace of kappel which reversed the conditions of the first. war indemnities were exacted from most of the protestant cantons. it was settled that each canton was to be left free to manage its own religious affairs; that the _christian civic league_ was to be dissolved; and a number of particular provisions were made which practically secured the rights of romanist without corresponding advantages to protestant minorities. the territories of zurich were left untouched, but the city was compelled by the charter of kappel to grant rights to her rural districts. she bound herself to consult them in all important matters, and particularly not to make war or peace without their consent. as a result of this ruinous defeat, and of the death of zwingli which accompanied it, zurich lost her place as the leading protestant canton, and the guidance of the reformation movement fell more and more into the hands of geneva, which was an ally but not a member of the confederation. another and more important permanent result of this second peace of kappel was that it was seen in switzerland as in germany that while the reformation could not be destroyed, it could not win for itself the whole country, and that roman catholics and protestants must divide the cantons and endeavour to live peaceably side by side. the history of the reformation in switzerland after the death of zwingli is so linked with the wider history of the movement in germany and in geneva, that it can scarcely be spoken about separately. it is also intimately related to the differences which separated zwingli from luther in the doctrine of the sacrament of the lord's supper. § . _the sacramental controversy._[ ] in the bern disputation of , the fourth thesis said "it cannot be proved from the scripture that the body and blood of christ are substantially and corporeally received in the eucharist,"[ ] and the statement became a distinctive watchword of the early swiss reformation. this thesis, a negative one, was perhaps the earliest official statement of a bold attempt to get rid of the priestly miracle in the mass, which was the strongest theoretical and practical obstacle to the acceptance of the fundamental protestant thought of the spiritual priesthood of all believers. the question had been seriously exercising the attention of all the leading theologians of the reformation, and this very trenchant way of dismissing it had suggested itself simultaneously to theologians in the low countries, in the district of the upper rhine, and in many of the imperial cities. it had been proclaimed in all its naked simplicity by andrew bodenstein of carlstadt, the theologian of the german democracy; but it was zwingli who worked at the subject carefully, and who had produced a reasonable if somewhat defective theory based on a rather shallow exegesis, in which the words of our lord, "this _is_ my body," were declared to mean nothing but "this _signifies_ my body." luther, always disposed to think harshly of anything that came from carlstadt, inclined to exaggerate his influence with the german protestant democracy, believing with his whole heart that in the sacrament of the holy supper the elements bread and wine were more than the bare signs of the body and blood of the lord, was vehemently moved to find such views concerning a central doctrine of christianity spreading through his beloved germany. he never paused to ask whether the opinions he saw adopted with eagerness in most of the imperial cities were really different from those of carlstadt (for that is one of the sad facts in this deplorable controversy). he simply denounced them, and stormed against zwingli, whose name was spread abroad as their author and propagator. nürnberg was almost the only great city that remained faithful to him. it was the only city also which was governed by the ancient patriciate, and in which the democracy had little or no power. when van hoen and karl stadt in the netherlands, hedio at mainz, conrad sam at ulm, when the preachers of augsburg, strassburg, frankfurt, reutlingen, and other cities accepted and taught zwingli's doctrine of the eucharist, luther and his immediate circle saw a great deal more than a simple division in doctrine. it was something more than the meaning of the holy supper or the exegesis of a difficult text which rent protestantism in two, and made luther and zwingli appear as the leaders of opposing parties in a movement where union was a supreme necessity after the decision at speyer in . the theological question was complicated by social and political ideas, which, if not acknowledged openly, were at least in the minds of the leaders who took sides in the dispute. on the one side were men whom luther held to be in part responsible for the peasants' war, who were the acknowledged leaders of that democracy which he had learnt to distrust if not to fear, who still wished to link the reformation to vast political schemes, all of which tended to weaken the imperial power by means of french and other alliances, and who only added to their other iniquities a theological theory which, he honestly believed, would take away from believers their comforting assurance of union with their lord in the sacrament of the holy supper. the real theological difference after all did not amount to so much as is generally said. zwingli's doctrine of the holy supper was not the crude theory of carlstadt; and luther might have seen this if he had only fairly examined it. the opposed views were, in fact, complementary, and the pronounced ideas of each were implicitly, though not expressly, held by the other. luther and zwingli approached the subject from two different points of view, and in debate they neither understood nor were exactly facing each other. the whole christian church, during all the centuries, has found three great ideas embodied in the sacrament of the holy supper, and all three have express reference to the death of the saviour on the cross for his people. the thoughts are proclamation, commemoration, and participation or communion. in the supper, believers proclaim the death and what it means; they commemorate the sacrifice; and they partake in or have communion with the crucified christ, who is also the risen saviour. the mediæval church had insisted that this sacramental union with christ was in the hands of the priesthood to give or to withhold. duly ordained priests, and they alone, could bring the worshippers into such a relation with christ as would make the sacramental participation a possible thing: and out of this claim had grown the mediæval theory of transubstantiation. it had also divided the sacrament of the supper into two distinct rites (the phrase is not too strong)--the mass and the eucharist--the one connecting itself instinctively with the commemoration and the other with the participation. protestants united in denying the special priestly miracle needed to bring christ and his people together in the sacrament; but it is easy to see that they might approach the subject by the two separate paths of mass or eucharist. zwingli took the one road and luther happened on the other. zwingli believed that the mediæval church had displaced the scriptural thought of _commemoration_, and put the non-scriptural idea of _repetition_ in its place. for the mediæval priest claimed that in virtue of the miraculous power given in ordination, he could really change the bread and wine into the actual physical body of jesus, and, when this was done, that he could reproduce over again the agony of the cross by crushing it with his teeth. this idea seemed to zwingli to be utterly profane; it dishonoured the one great sacrifice; it was unscriptural; it depended on a priestly gift of working a miracle which did not exist. then he believed that the sixth chapter of st. john's gospel forbade all thought that spiritual benefits could come from a mere partaking with the mouth. it was the atonement worked out by christ's death that was appropriated and commemorated in the holy supper; and the atonement is always received by faith. thus the two principal thoughts in the theory of zwingli are, that the mediæval doctrine must be purified by changing the idea of repetition of the death of christ for commemoration of that death, and the thought of manducating with the teeth for that of faith which is the faculty by which spiritual benefits are received. but zwingli believed that a living faith always brought with it the presence of christ, for there can be no true faith without actual spiritual contact with the saviour. therefore zwingli held that there was a real presence of christ in the holy supper; but a spiritual presence brought by the faith of the believing communicant and not by the elements of bread and wine, which were only the signs _representing_ a body which was corporeally absent. the defect of this theory is that it does not make the presence of christ in the sacrament in any way depend on the ordinance; there is no sacramental presence other than what there is in any act of faith. it was not until zwingli had elaborated his theory that he sought for and found an explanation of the words of our lord, and taught that _this is my body_, must mean _this signifies my body_. his theory was entirely different from that of carlstadt, with which luther always identified it. luther approached the whole subject by a different path. what repelled him in the mediæval doctrine of the holy supper was the way in which he believed it to trample on the spiritual priesthood of all believers. he protested against transubstantiation and private masses, because they were the most flagrant instances of that contempt. when he first preached on the subject ( ) it was to demand the "cup" for the laity, and he makes use of an expression in his sermon which reveals how his thoughts were tending. he says that in the sacrament of the holy supper "the communicant is so united to christ _and his saints_, that christ's life and sufferings _and the lives and sufferings of the saints_ become his." no one held more strongly than luther that the atonement was made by our lord, and by him alone. therefore he cannot be thinking of the atonement when he speaks of union with the lives and the sufferings of the saints. he believes that the main thing in the sacrament is that it gives such a companionship with jesus as his disciples and saints have had. there was, of course, a reference to the death of christ and to the atonement, for apart from that death no companionship is possible; but the reference is indirect, and through the thought of the fellowship. in the sacrament we touch christ as his disciples might have touched him when he lived on earth, and as his glorified saints touch him now. this reference, therefore, clearly shows that luther saw in the sacrament of the supper the presence of the glorified body of our lord, and that the primary use of the sacrament was to bring the communicant into contact with that glorified body. this required a presence (and luther thought a presence extended in space) of the glorified body of christ in the sacrament in order that the communicant might be in actual contact with it. but communion with the living christ implies the appropriation of the death of christ, and of the atonement won by his death. thus the reference to the crucified christ which zwingli reaches directly, luther attains indirectly; and the reference to the living risen christ which zwingli reaches indirectly, luther attains directly. luther avoided the need of a priestly miracle to bring the body extended in space into immediate connection with the elements bread and wine, by introducing a scholastic theory of what is meant by presence in space. a body may be present in space, said the schoolmen, in two ways: it may be present in such a way that it excludes from the space it occupies any other body, or it may be present occupying the same space with another body. the glorified body of christ can be present in the latter manner. it was so when our lord after his resurrection appeared suddenly among his disciples in a room when the doors were shut; for then at some moment of time it must have occupied the same space as a portion of the walls or of the door. christ's glorified body can therefore be naturally in the _elements_ without any special miracle, for it is _ubiquitous_. it is in the table at which i write, said luther; in the stone which i hurl through the air. it is in the _elements_ in the holy supper in a perfectly natural way, and needs no priestly miracle to bring it there. this natural presence of the body of christ in the elements in the supper is changed into a sacramental presence by the promise of god, which is attached to the reverent and believing partaking of the holy supper. these were the two theories which ostensibly divided the protestants in into two parties, the one of which was led by zwingli and the other by luther. they were not so antagonistic that they could not be reconciled. each theologian held implicitly what the other declared explicitly. zwingli placed the relation to the death of christ in the foreground, but implicitly admitted the relation to the risen christ--going back to the view held in the early church. luther put fellowship with the risen christ in the foreground, but admitted the reference to the crucified christ--accepting the mediæval way of looking at the matter. the one had recourse to a very shallow exegesis to help him, and the other to a scholastic theory of space; and naturally, but unfortunately, when controversy arose, the disputant attacked the weakest part of his opponent's theory--luther, zwingli's exegesis; and zwingli, luther's scholastic theory of spatial presence. the attempt to bring about an understanding between luther and zwingli, made by philip of hesse, the confidant of zwingli, and in sympathy with the swiss reformer's schemes of political combination, has already been mentioned, and its failure related.[ ] it need not be discussed again. but for the history of the reformation in switzerland it is necessary to say something about the further progress of this sacramental controversy. calvin gradually won over the swiss protestants to his views; and his theory, which at one time seemed about to unite the divided protestants, must be alluded to. calvin began his study of the doctrine of the sacrament of the holy supper independently of both luther and zwingli. his position as the theologian of switzerland, and his friendship with his colleague william farel, who was a zwinglian, made him adapt his theory to zwinglian language; but he borrowed nothing from the reformer of zurich. he was quite willing to accept zwingli's exegesis so far as the words went; but he gave another and altogether different meaning to zwingli's phrase, _this signifies my body_. he was willing to call the "elements" _signs_ of the body and blood of the lord; but while zwingli called them signs which _represent_ (_signa representativa_) what was _absent_, calvin insisted on calling them signs which _exhibit_ (_signa exhibitiva_) what was _present_--a distinction which is continually forgotten in describing his relation to the theories of zwingli, and one which enabled him to convince luther that he held that there was a real presence of christ's body in the sacrament of the holy supper. to describe minutely calvin's doctrine of the holy supper would require more space than can be given here, and a brief statement of the central thoughts is alone possible. his aim in common with all the reformers was to construct a doctrine of the sacrament of the supper which would be at once scriptural, free from superstition and from the crass materialist associations which had gathered round the theory of transubstantiation, and which would clearly conserve the great reformation proclamation of the spiritual priesthood of all believers. he went back to the mediæval idea of transubstantiation, and asked whether it gave a true conception of what was meant by _substance_. he decided that it did not, and believed that the root thought in _substance_ was not dimensions in space, but power. the _substance_ of a body consists in its _power_, active and passive, and the _presence_ of the _substance_ of anything consists in the immediate application of that power.[ ] when luther and zwingli had spoken of the _substance_ of the body of christ, they had always in their mind the thought of something extended in space; and the one affirmed while the other denied that this body of christ, something extended in space, could be and was present in the sacrament of the supper. calvin's conception of _substance_ enabled him to say that wherever anything acts there it is. he denied the crude "substantial" presence which luther insisted on; and in this he sided with zwingli. but he affirmed a real because active presence, and in this he sided with luther. calvin's view had been accepted definitely by melanchthon, and somewhat indefinitely by luther. the imperial cities, led by strassburg, which was under the influence of bucer, who had thought out for himself a doctrine not unlike that of calvin, had been included in the wittenberg concord (may ); but luther would have nothing to do with the swiss. as it was vain to hope that switzerland would be included in any lutheran alliance, calvin set himself to produce dogmatic harmony in switzerland. in conjunction with bullinger, zwingli's son-in-law and successor in zurich, he drafted the _consensus of zurich_ (_consensus tigurinus_) in .[ ] the document is calvinist in theology and largely zwinglian in language. it was accepted with some difficulty in basel and in bern, and heartily in biel, schaffhausen, mühlhausen, and st. gallen. it ended dogmatic disputes in protestant switzerland, which was thus united under the one creed. this does not mean any increase of protestantism within switzerland. the romanist cantons drew more closely together. cardinal carlo borromeo of milan took a deep interest in the counter-reformation in switzerland. he introduced the jesuits into luzern and the forest cantons, and after his death these cantons formed a league which included luzern, uri, schwyz, zug, unterwalden, freiburg, and solothurn ( ). this league (_the borromean league_) pledged its members to maintain the roman catholic faith. the lines of demarcation between protestant and romanist cantons in switzerland practically survive to the present day. chapter iii. the reformation in geneva under calvin.[ ] § . _geneva._ geneva, which was to be the citadel of the reformed faith in europe, had a history which prepared it for the part it was destined to play. the ancient constitution of the town, solemnly promulgated in , recognised three different authorities within its walls: the bishop, who was the sovereign or "prince" of the city; the count, who had possession of the citadel; and the free burghers. the first act of the bishop on his nomination was to go to the church of st. peter and swear on the missal that he would maintain the civic rights. the house of savoy had succeeded to the countship of geneva, and they were represented within the town by a viceroy, who was called the count or _vidomne_. he was the supreme justiciary. the citizens were democratically organised. they met once a year in a recognised civic assembly to elect four syndics to be their rulers and representatives. it was the syndics who in their official capacity heard the oaths of the bishop and of the vidomne to uphold the rights and privileges of the town. they kept order within the walls from sunrise to sunset. these three separate authorities were frequently in conflict, and in the triangular duel the citizens and the bishop were generally in alliance against the house of savoy and its viceroy. the consequence was that few mediæval cities under ecclesiastical rule were more loyal than geneva was to its bishop, so long as he respected the people's rights and stood by them against their feudal lords when they attempted oppression. in the years succeeding the hereditary loyalty to their bishops had to stand severe tests. count amadeus viii. of savoy, one of the most remarkable men of the fifteenth century,--he ascended the papal throne and resigned the pontificate to become a hermit,--used his pontifical power to possess himself of the bishopric. from that date onwards the bishop of geneva was almost always a member of the house of savoy, and the rights of the citizens were for the most part disregarded. the bishopric became an appanage of savoy, and boys (one of ten years of age, another of seventeen) and bastards ruled from the episcopal chair. after long endurance a party formed itself among the townspeople vowed to restore the old rights of the city. they called themselves, or were named by others, the _eidguenots_ (_eidgenossen_); while the partisans of the bishop and of the house of savoy were termed _mamelukes_, because, it was said, they had forsaken christianity. in their difficulties the genevans turned to the swiss cantons nearest them and asked to be allied with freiburg and bern. freiburg consented, and an alliance was made in ; but bern, an aristocratic republic, was unwilling to meddle in the struggle of a democracy in a town outside the swiss confederacy. the citizens of bern, more sympathetic than their rulers, compelled them to make alliance with geneva in ,--very half-heartedly on the part of the bernese council. the swiss cantons, bern especially, could not in their own interest see the patriotic party in geneva wholly crushed, and the "gate of western switzerland" left completely in possession of the house of savoy. therefore, when the bishop assembled an army for the purpose of effectually crushing all opposition within the town, bern and freiburg collected their forces and routed the troops of savoy. but the allies, instead of using to the full the advantage they had gained, were content with a compromise by which the bishop remained the lord of geneva, while the rights of the vidomne were greatly curtailed, and the privileges of the townsmen were to be respected (oct. th, ). from this date onwards geneva was governed by what was called _le petit conseil_, and was generally spoken of as the council; then a _council of two hundred_, framed on the model of those of freiburg and bern; lastly, by the _conseil general_, or assembly of the citizens. all important transactions were first submitted to and deliberated on by the _petit conseil_, which handed them on with their opinion of what ought to be done to the _council of the two hundred_. no change of situation--for example, the adoption of the reformation--was finally adopted until submitted to the _general council_ of all the burghers. it is possible that had there seemed to be any immediate prospects that geneva would join the reformation, bern would have aided the patriots more effectually. bern was the great protestant power in western switzerland. its uniform policy, since , had been to constitute itself the protector of towns and districts where a majority of the inhabitants were anxious to take the side of the reformation and were hindered by their overlords. it made alliances with the towns in the territories of the bishop of basel, and enabled them to assert their independence. in may ( rd) it warned the duke of savoy that if he thought of persecuting the inhabitants of payerne because of their religion, it would make their cause its own, and declared that its alliance with the town was much more ancient than any existing between bern and the duke.[ ] but the case of geneva was different. signs, indeed, were not lacking that many of the people were inclined to the reformation.[ ] it is more than probable that some of the members of the councils were longing for a religious reform. but however much in earnest the reformers might be, they were in a minority, and it was no part of the policy of bern to interfere without due call in the internal administration of the city; still less to see the rise of a strong and independent roman catholic city-republic on its own western border. suddenly, in the middle of , geneva was thrown into a state of violent religious commotion. pope clement vii. had published an indulgence within the city on the usual conditions. on the morning of june th, the citizens found posted up on all the doors of the churches great printed placards, announcing that "plenary pardon would be granted to every one for all their sins on the one condition of repentance, and a living faith in the promises of jesus christ." the city was moved to its depths. priests rushed to tear the placards down. "lutherans" interfered. tumults ensued; and one of the canons of the cathedral, pierre werly, was wounded in the arm.[ ] the romanists, both inside and outside the town, were inclined to believe that the affair meant more than it really did. freiburg had been very suspicious of the influence of the great protestant canton of bern, perhaps not without reason. in march ( th) , the deputies of geneva had been blamed by the inhabitants of freiburg for being inclined to lutheranism, and it is more than likely that the evangelicals of geneva had some private dealings with the council of bern, and had been told that the times were not ripe for any open action on the part of the protestant canton. the affair of the placards, witnessing as it did the increased strength of the evangelical party, reawakened suspicions and intensified alarms. a deputy from freiburg appeared before the council of geneva, complaining of the placards,[ ] and of the distribution of heretical literature in the city of geneva (june th). the papal nuncio wrote from chambéry (july th), asking if it were true, as was publicly reported, that the lutheran heresy was openly professed and taught in the houses, churches, and even in the schools of geneva.[ ] the letter of the nuncio was dismissed with a careless answer; but freiburg had to be contented. two extracts from the register of the council quoted by herminjard show their anxiety to satisfy freiburg and yet bear evidence of a very moderate zeal for the romanist religion. they decided (june th) that no schoolmaster was to be allowed to preach in the town unless specially licensed by the vicar or the syndics; and (june th) they resolved to request the vicar to see that the gospel and the epistle of the day were read "truthfully without being mixed up with fables and other inventions of men"; they added that they meant to live as their fathers, without any innovations.[ ] the excitement had not died down when farel arrived in the city in the autumn of . he preached quietly in houses; but his coming was known, and led to some tumults. he and his companions, saunier and olivétan, were seized and sent out of the city. the reformation had begun, and, in spite of many hindrances, was destined to be successful. § . _the reformation in western switzerland._ the conversion of geneva to the reformed faith was the crown of a work which had been promoted by the canton of bern ever since its council had decided, in , to adopt the reformation. bern itself belonged to german-speaking switzerland, but it had extensive possessions in the french-speaking districts. it was the only state strong enough to confront the dukes of savoy, and was looked upon as a natural protector against that house and other feudal principalities. its position may be seen in its relations to the pays de vaud. the pays de vaud consisted of a confederacy of towns and small feudal estates owning fealty to the house of savoy. the nobles, the towns, and in some instances the clergy, sent deputies to a diet which met at moudon under the presidency of the "governor and bailli de vaud," who represented the duke of savoy. a large portion of the country had broken away from savoy at different periods during the fifteenth century. lausanne and eight other smaller towns and districts formed the patrimony of the prince-bishop of lausanne. the cantons of freiburg and bern ruled jointly over orbe, grandson, and morat. bern had become the sole ruler over what were called the four commanderies of aigle, ormonts, ollon, and bex. these four commanderies were outlying portions of bern, and were entirely under the rule of its council. when bern had accepted the reformation, it naturally wished its dependencies to follow its example; and its policy was always directed to induce other portions of the pays de vaud to become protestant also. farel, the apostle of french-speaking switzerland, might almost be called an agent of the council of bern. its method of work may be best seen by taking the examples of aigle and lausanne, the one its own possession and the other belonging to the prince-bishop, who was its political ruler. william farel, once a member of the "group of meaux," whom we have already seen active at the disputation in bern in the beginning of , had settled at aigle in , probably by the middle of november.[ ] he did so, he says in his memoir to the council of bern-- "with the intention of opening a school to instruct the youth in virtue and learning, and in order to procure for myself the necessities of life. received at once with brotherly good-will by some of the burghers of the place, i was asked by them to preach the word of god before the governor, who was then at bern, had returned. i acceded to their request. but as soon as the governor returned i asked his permission to keep the school, and by acquaintances also asked him to permit me to preach. the governor acceded to their request, but on condition that i preached nothing but the pure simple clear word of god according to the old and new testament, without any addition contrary to the word, and without attacking the holy sacraments.... i promised to conform myself to the will of the governor, and declared myself ready to submit to any punishment he pleased to inflict upon me if i disobeyed his orders or acted in any way recognised to be contrary to the word of god."[ ] this was the beginning of a work which gradually spread over french-speaking switzerland. the bishop of sion, within whose diocese aigle was situated, published an order forbidding all wandering preachers who had not his episcopal licence from preaching within the confines of his diocese; and this appears to have been used against farel. some representation must have been made to the council of bern, who indignantly declared that no one was permitted to publish citations, excommunications, interdicts, _ne autres fanfares_ within their territories; but at the same time ordered farel to cease preaching, because he had never been ordained a priest (february nd, ).[ ] the interdict did not last very long; for a minute of council (march th) says, "farel is permitted to preach at aigle until the coadjutor sends another capable priest."[ ] troubles arose from priests and monks, but upon the whole the council of bern supported him; and haller and others wrote from bern privately, beseeching him to persevere.[ ] he remained, and the number of those who accepted the evangelical faith under his ministry increased gradually until they appear to have been the majority of the people.[ ] he confessed himself that what hindered him most was his denunciation of the prevailing immoralities. at the disputation in bern, farel was recognised to be one of the ablest theologians present, and to have contributed in no small degree to the success of the conference. the council of bern saw in him the instrument best fitted for the evangelisation of their french-speaking population. he returned to aigle under the protection of the council, who sent a herald with him to ensure that he should be treated with all respect, and gave him besides an "open letter," ordering their officials to render him all assistance everywhere within their four commanderies.[ ] he was recognised to be the evangelist of the council of bern. this did not prevent occasional disturbances, riots promoted by priests and monks, who set the bells a-ringing to drown the preacher's voice, and sometimes procured men to beat drums at the doors of the churches in which he was preaching. his success, however, was so great, that when the commissioners of bern visited their four commanderies they found that three of them were ready by a majority of votes to adopt the reformation (march nd, ). the adoption of the reformation was signified by the removal of altars and images, and by the abolition of the mass. in the parishes where a majority of the people declared for the reformation, the council of bern issued instructions about the order of public worship and other ecclesiastical rites. thus we find them intimating to their governor at aigle that they expected the people to observe the same form of baptism, of the table of the lord, and of the celebration of marriage, as was in use at bern (april th, ).[ ] the bern liturgy, obligatory in all the german-speaking districts of the canton, was not imposed on the romance churches until . then, in july ( ), the governor is informed that-- "my lords have resolved to allow to the preachers farel and simon 'pour leur prébende' two hundred florins of savoy annually, and a house with a court, and a kitchen garden. but if they prefer to have the old revenues of the parish cures ... my lords are willing. if, on the contrary, they take the two hundred florins, you are to sell the ecclesiastical goods, and you are to collect the hundredths and the tithes, and out of all you are to pay the two hundred florins annually."[ ] the pastors preferred to take the place of the romanist incumbents, and there is accordingly another minute sent to the castellan, syndic, and parishioners of aigle, ordering farel to be placed in possession of the ecclesiastical possessions of the parish, "seeing that it is reasonable that the pastor should have his portion of the fruits of the sheep."[ ] the history of aigle was repeated over and over again in other parts of western switzerland. in the bailiwicks which bern and freiburg ruled jointly, bern insisted on freedom of preaching, and on the right of the people to choose whether they would remain romanists or become protestants. commissioners from the two cantons presided when the votes were given. farel was too valuable to be left as pastor of a small district like aigle. we find him making wide preaching tours, always protected by bern when protection was possible. it was the rooted belief of the protestants that a public disputation on matters of religion in presence of the people, the speakers using the language understood by the crowd, always resulted in spreading the reformation; and bern continually tried to get such conferences in towns where the authorities were romanist. their first interference in the ecclesiastical affairs of lausanne was of this kind. it seems that some of the priests of lausanne had accused farel of being a heretic; whereupon the council of bern demanded that farel should be heard before the bishop of lausanne's tribunal, in order to prove that he was no heretic. the claim led to a long correspondence. the bishop continually refused; while the council and citizens seemed inclined to grant the request. farel could not get a hearing before the episcopal tribunal, but he visited the town, and on the second occasion was permitted by the council to preach to the people. this occurred again and again; and the result was that the town became protestant and disowned the authority of the bishop. bern assisted the inhabitants to drive the bishop away, and to become a free municipality and protestant. gradually farel had become the leader of an organised band of missioners, who devoted themselves to the evangelisation of western or french-speaking switzerland.[ ] they had been carefully selected--young men for the most part well educated, of unbounded courage, willing to face all the risks of their dangerous work, daunted by no threat or peril, taking their lives in their hand. they were the forerunners of the young preachers, teachers, and colporteurs whom calvin trained later in geneva and sent forth by the hundred to evangelise france and the low countries. they were all picked men. no one was admitted to the little band without being well warned of the hazardous work before him, and some who were ready to take all the risks were rejected because the leader was not sure that they had the necessary powers of endurance.[ ] these preachers were under the protection of the canton of bern, whose authorities were resolute to maintain the freedom to preach the word of god; but they continually went where the bernese had no power to assist them; nor could the protection of that powerful canton aid them in sudden emergencies when bitter romanist partisans, infuriated by the invectives with which the preachers lashed the abuses of the roman religion, or wrathful at their very presence, stirred up the mob against them. when their correspondence and that of their opponents--a correspondence collected and carefully edited by m. herminjard--is read, it can be seen that they could always count on a certain amount of sympathy from the people of the towns and villages where they preached, but that the authorities were for the most part hostile. if bern insisted on their protection, freiburg was as active in opposing them, and lost no opportunity of urging the local authorities to harass them in every way, to silence their preaching, and if possible to expel them from their territories. such men had the defects of their qualities. their zeal often outran their discretion. when farel and froment, the most daring and devoted of his band, were preaching at a village in the vale of villingen, a priest began to chant the mass beside them. as the priest elevated the host, froment seized it and, turning towards the people, said, "this is not the god to adore; he is in the heaven in the glory of the father, not in the hands of the priests as you believe, and as they teach." there was a riot, of course, but the preachers escaped. next day, however, as they were passing a solitary place, they were assailed by a crowd of men and women, stoned and beaten with clubs, then hurried away to a neighbouring castle whose chatelaine had instigated the attack. there they were thrust violently into the chapel, and the crowd tried to make farel prostrate himself before an image of the blessed virgin. he resisted, admonishing them to adore the one god in spirit and in truth, not dumb images without sense or power. the crowd beat him to the effusion of blood, and the two preachers were dragged to a vault, where they were imprisoned until rescued by the authorities of neuchâtel.[ ] these preachers were all frenchmen or french-swiss. they had the hot celtic blood in their veins, and their hearers were their kith and kin--prompt to act, impetuous when their passions were stirred. scenes occurred at their preaching which we seldom hear of among slower germans, who generally waited until their authorities led. in western switzerland the audiences were eager to get rid of the idolatries denounced. at grandson, the people rushed to the church of the cordeliers, and tore down the altars and images, while the crosses, altars, and images of the parish church were also destroyed.[ ] similar tumults took place at orbe; and the authorities at bern, who desired to see liberty for both protestants and romanists, had occasion to rebuke the zealous preachers. but the dangers which the missioners ran were not always of their own provoking. sometimes a crowd of women invaded the churches in which they preached, interrupted the services with shoutings, hustled and beat the preachers; sometimes when they addressed the people in the market-place the preachers and their audience were assailed with showers of stones; sometimes farel and his companions were laid wait for and maltreated.[ ] m. de watteville, sent down by the authorities of bern to report on disturbances, wrote to the council of bern that the faces of the preachers were so torn that it looked as if they had been fighting with cats, and that on one occasion the alarm-bell had been sounded against them, as was the custom for a wolf-hunt.[ ] no dangers daunted the missioners, and soon the whole of the outlying districts of bern, neuchâtel, soleure, and other french-speaking portions of switzerland declared for the reformation. the cantonal authorities frequently sent down commissioners to ascertain the wishes of the people; and when the majority of the inhabitants voted for the evangelical religion, the church, parsonage, and stipend were given to a protestant pastor. many of farel's missioners were temporarily settled in these village churches; but they were for the most part better fitted for pioneer work than for a settled pastorate. in january ( - th) , a synod of these protestant pastors was held at bern to deliberate on some uniform ways of exercising their ministry to prevent disorders arising from individual caprice. two hundred and thirty ministers were present, and bucer was brought from strassburg to give them guidance. his advice was greatly appreciated and followed by the delegates of the churches and the council of bern. the synod in the end issued an elaborate ordinance, which included a lengthy exposition of doctrine.[ ] § . _farel in geneva._ it was after this consolidation of the reformation in bern and its outlying provinces that farel found himself free to turn his attention to geneva. he had evidently been thinking for months about the possibility of evangelising the town. he had little fear of the people themselves, and he wrote to zwingli (oct. st, ) that were it not for the dread of freiburg, he believed that the genevese would welcome the gospel.[ ] the affair of the "placards" seems to have decided him to begin his mission in the city. when he was driven out he was far from abandoning the enterprise. he turned to froment, his most trusted assistant, and sent him into geneva. antoine froment, who has the honour along with farel of being the reformer of geneva, was born at tries, near grenoble, about . he was therefore, like farel, a native of dauphiné. like him, also, he had gone to paris for his education, and had become acquainted with lefèvre, who seems to have introduced him to marguerite d'angoulême, the queen of navarre,[ ] as he received from her a prebend in a canonry on one of her estates. how he came to switzerland is unknown. once there and introduced to farel, he became his most daring and enthusiastic disciple, and farel prized him above all the others. they were paul and timothy. it was natural that farel should entrust him with the difficult and dangerous task of preaching the gospel in geneva. farel's seizure and expulsion made it necessary to proceed with caution. froment entered geneva (nov. rd, ), and began his work by intimating by public advertisement (_placard_) that he was ready to teach any one who wished to learn to read and write the french language, and that he would charge no fees if his pupils were not able to profit by his instructions. scholars came.[ ] he managed to mingle evangelical instruction with his lessons,--"every day one or two sermons from the holy scripture," he says,--and soon made many converts, especially among the wives of influential citizens. towards the end of , the monks of one of the convents in geneva had brought to the city a dominican, christopher bocquet, to be their advent preacher. his sermons seem to have been largely evangelical, and had the effect of inducing many of the citizens to attend froment's discourses in the hall where he kept his school.[ ] this provoked threats on the part of the romanists, and strongly worded sermons from the priests and romanist orators. one citizen, convicted of having spoken disrespectfully of the mass, was banished, and forbidden to return on pain of death. on this the evangelicals of the town appealed to bern. their letter was promptly answered by a demand on the part of the council of that canton that the evangelicals must be left in peace, and if attacked publicly must be allowed to answer in as public a fashion.[ ] when their letter was read in the council of geneva, it provoked some protests from the more ardently romanist members, and the priests stirred up part of the population to riotous proceedings, in which the lives of the evangelicals were threatened. the syndics and council had difficulty in preventing conflicts in the streets. they published a decree (march th, ), in which they practically proclaimed liberty of conscience, but forbade all insulting expressions, all attacks on the sacraments or on the ecclesiastical fasts and ceremonies, and again ordered preachers to say nothing which could not be proved from holy scripture.[ ] the numbers of the evangelicals increased daily; they became bolder, and on the th of april they met in a garden, under the presidency of guérin muète, a hosier, for the celebration of the lord's supper. this became known to the romanists, and there was a renewal of the threats against the evangelicals, which came to a head in the riot of the th of may--a riot which had important consequences.[ ] it seems that while several citizens, known to belong to the evangelical party, were walking in the square before the cathedral of st. peter, they were attacked by a band of armed priests, and three of them were severely wounded. the leader of the band, a turbulent priest named pierre werly, who belonged to an old family of freiburg, and was a canon in the cathedral, followed by five or six others, rushed down to the broad street molard, with loud shouts. werly was armed with one of the huge swiss swords. he and his companions attacked the evangelicals; there was a sharp, short fight; several persons were wounded severely, and werly, "the captain of the priests," was slain.[ ] the affair made a great noise. the romanists at once proclaimed werly a martyr, and honoured him with a pompous funeral. freiburg insisted that all the evangelicals who happened to be in the molard should be arrested; and it was said that preparations were being made for a massacre of all the followers of the reformation. in their extremity they again appealed to bern, whose authorities again interfered for their protection. during these troublesome times the position of the council of geneva was one of great difficulty. the prince-bishop of geneva, pierre de la baume, was still nominally sovereign, secular as well as ecclesiastical ruler. his secular powers had been greatly curtailed, how much it is difficult to say, but certainly to the extent that the criminal administration of the city and the territory subject to it was in the hands of the council and syndics. freiburg, one of the two protecting cantons, insisted that all the ecclesiastical authority was still in the hands of the bishop, to be administered in his absence by his vicar.[ ] the councils, although they had passed decrees (june th, , and march th, ) which had distinctly to do with ecclesiastical matters, acknowledged for the most part that the ecclesiastical jurisdiction did not belong to them. but the whole of the inhabitants were not contented with this diminution of the episcopal authority. turbulent priests and the yet more violent canons,[ ] the great body of monks and nuns, wished, and intrigued for the restoration of the rule of the bishop and of the house of savoy. the beginnings of a movement for reformation had increased the difficulties of the council; it brought a third party into the town. the evangelicals were all strongly opposed to the rule of the bishop and savoy, and they were fast growing in strength; a powerful minority of roman catholics were no less strongly in favour of a return to the old condition. the majority of the roman catholic citizens, opposed to the bishop as a secular ruler, had no desire for the triumph of the reformation. as time went on, it was seen that these moderate romanists had to choose between a return of the old disorderly rule of the bishop, or to acquiesce in the ecclesiastical as well as the secular superiority of the council, pressed by the protestant canton of bern. the savoyard party evidently believed that their hatred of the reformation would be stronger than their dislike to the savoyard and episcopal rule--a mistaken belief, as events were to show. the policy of bern, wherever its influence prevailed in western switzerland, was exerted to secure toleration for all evangelicals, and to procure, if possible, a public discussion on matters of religion between the romanists and leading reformers. they pressed this over and over again on their allies of geneva. as early as april , they had insisted that a monk who had offered to refute farel should be kept to his word, and that the council of geneva should arrange for a public disputation.[ ] towards the close of the year an event occurred which gave them a pretext for decisive interference. guy furbiti, a renowned roman catholic preacher, a learned theologian, a doctor of the sorbonne, had been brought to geneva to be advent preacher. he used the occasion to denounce vigorously the doctrines of the evangelicals, supporting his statements, as he afterwards confessed, not from scripture, but from the decretals and from the writings of thomas aquinas. he ended his sermon (dec. nd) with the words: "where are those fine preachers of the fireside, who say the opposite? if they showed themselves here one could speak to them. ha! ha! they are well to hide themselves in corners to deceive poor women and others who know nothing." after the sermon, either in church or in the square before the cathedral, froment cried to the crowd, "hear me! i am ready to give my life, and my body to be burned, to maintain that what that man has said is nothing but falsehood and the words of antichrist." there was a great commotion. some shouted, "to the fire with him! to the fire!" and tried to seize him. the chronicler nun, jeanne de jussie, proud of her sex, relates that "les femmes comme enragées sortirent après, de grande furie, luy jettant force pierres."[ ] he escaped from them. but alexandre canus was banished, and forbidden to return under pain of death; and froment was hunted from house to house, until he found a hiding-place in a hay-loft. furbiti had permitted himself to attack with strong invectives the authorities of bern, and the evangelicals of geneva in their appeal for protection sent extracts from the sermons.[ ] bern had at last the opportunity for which its council had long waited. they wrote a dignified letter (dec. th, ) to the council of geneva, in which they complained that the genevese, their allies, had hitherto paid little attention to their requests for a favourable treatment of the evangelicals; that they had expelled from the town "nostre serviteur maistre guillaume farel"; not content with that, they had recently misused their "servants" froment and alexandre for protesting against the sermons of a jacobin monk (furbiti) who "preached only lies, errors, and blasphemies against god, the faith, and ourselves, wounding our honour, calling us jews, turks, and dogs"; that the banishment of alexandre and the hunting of froment touched them (the council of bern), and that they would not suffer it. they demanded the immediate arrest of the "_caffard_"[ ] (furbiti); and they said they were about to send an embassy to geneva to vindicate publicly the honour of god and their own.[ ] as the council of bern meant to enforce a public disputation, they sent farel to geneva. he reached the city on the evening of december th. the letter was read to the council of geneva upon dec. st, and they at once gave orders to the vicar to prevent furbiti leaving the town. but the vicar, who had resolved to try his strength against bern, refused, and actually published two mandates (dec. st, , and jan. st, ) denouncing the genevese syndics, forbidding any of the citizens to read the holy scriptures, and ordering all copies of translations of the bible, whether in german or in french, to be seized and burnt.[ ] the dispute between syndics and vicar was signalised by riots promoted by the extreme romanist party. the council, anxious not to proceed to extremities, contented themselves with placing a guard to watch furbiti; and the monk was attended continually, even when he went to and from the church, by a guard of three halberdiers. the bernese embassy arrived on the th of january, and had prolonged audience of the council of geneva on the th and th. they insisted on a fair treatment for the evangelical party, which meant freedom of conscience and the right of public worship, and they demanded that furbiti should be compelled to justify his charges against the evangelicals in the presence of learned men who could speak for the council of bern. the genevan authorities had no wish to break irrevocably with their bishop, nor to coerce the ecclesiastical authorities; they pleaded that furbiti was not under their jurisdiction, and they referred the bernese deputies to the bishop or his vicar. "we have been ordered to apply to you," said the deputies from bern. "your answer makes us see that you seek delay, and that you are not treating us fairly; that you think little of the honour of the council of bern. here is the treaty of alliance (they produced the document), and we are about to tear off the seals." this was the formal way among the swiss of cancelling a treaty. the councillors of geneva then proposed that they should compel the monk to appear before them and the deputies of bern, when explanations might be demanded from him. the deputies accepted the offer, but on condition that there should be a conference between the monk (furbiti) and theologians sent from bern (farel and viret). next day furbiti was taken from the episcopal palace and placed in the town's prison (jan. th), and on the morrow (jan. th) he was brought before the council. there he refused to plead before secular judges. the council of geneva tried in vain to induce the vicar to nominate an ecclesiastical delegate who was to sit in the council and be present at the conference. their negotiations with the vicar, carried on for some days, were in vain. then they attempted to induce the bernese to depart from their conditions. the council of bern was immovable. it insisted on the immediate payment by the genevese of the debt due to bern for the war of deliverance and for the punishment of furbiti (jan. th, ). driven to the wall, the council of geneva resolved to override the ecclesiastical authority of the bishop and his vicar. furbiti was compelled to appear before the council and the deputies of bern, and to answer to farel and viret on jan. th and feb. rd ( ). on the afternoon of the latter day the partisans of the bishop got up another riot, in which one of them poniarded an evangelical, nicolas bergier. this riot seems to have exhausted the patience of the peaceable citizens of geneva, whether romanists or evangelicals. a band of about five hundred assembled armed before the town hall, informed the council that they would no longer tolerate riots caused by turbulent priests, and that they were ready to support civic authority and put down lawlessness with a strong hand. the council thereupon acted energetically. that night the murderer, claude pennet, who had hid himself in the belfry of the cathedral, was dragged from his place of concealment, tried next day, and hanged on the day following (feb. th). the houses of the principal rioters were searched, and letters discovered proving a plot to seize the town and deliver it into the hands of the bishop. pierre de la baume had gone the length of nominating a member of the council of freiburg, m. pavillard, to act as his deputy in secular affairs, and ordering him to massacre the evangelicals within the city. when the excitement had somewhat died down, the deputies of bern pressed for a renewal of the proceedings against furbiti. the monk was again brought before the council, and confronted by farel and viret. he was forced to confess that he could not prove his assertions from the holy scriptures, but had based them on the decretals and the writings of thomas aquinas, admitting that he had transgressed the regulations of the council of geneva. he promised that, if allowed to preach on the following sunday (feb. th), he would make public reparation to the council of bern. when sunday came he refused to keep his promise, and was sent back to prison.[ ] meanwhile the evangelical community in geneva was growing, and taking organised form. one of the most prominent of the genevan evangelicals, jean baudichon de la maisonneuve, prepared a hall by removing a partition between two rooms in his magnificent house, situated in that part of the city which was the cradle of the reformation in geneva. there farel, viret, and froment preached to three or four hundred persons; and there the first baptism according to the reformed rite was celebrated in geneva (feb. nd, ). the audiences soon increased beyond the capacity of the hall, and the evangelicals, protected by the presence of the bernese deputies, took possession of the large audience hall or church of the convent of the cordeliers in the same street (march st). the deputies from bern frequently asked the council of geneva to grant the use of one of the churches of the town for the evangelicals, but were continually answered that the council had not the power, but that they would not object if the evangelicals found a suitable place. this indirect authorisation enabled them to meet in the convent church, which held between four and five thousand people, and which was frequently filled. thus the little band increased. farel preached for the first time in st. peter's on the th of august . services were held in other houses also.[ ] the bishop of geneva, foiled in his attempt to regain possession of the town by well-planned riots, united himself with the duke of savoy to conquer the city by force of arms. their combined forces advanced against geneva; they overran the country, seized and pillaged the country houses of the citizens, and subjected the town itself to a close investment. the war was a grievous matter for the city, but it furthered the reformation. the bishop had leagued himself with the old enemy of geneva; the priests, the monks, the nuns were eager for his success; he compelled patriotic roman catholics to choose between their religion and their country. it was also a means of displaying the heroism of the protestant pastors. farel and froment were high-spirited frenchmen, who scoffed at any danger lying in the path of duty. they had braved a thousand perils in their missionary work. viret was not less courageous. the three worked on the fortifications with the citizens; they shared the watches of the defenders; they encouraged the citizens by word and deed. the genevese were prepared for any sacrifices to preserve their liberties. four faubourgs, which formed a second town almost as large as the first, were ordered to be demolished to strengthen the defence. the city was reduced to great straits, and the citizens of bern seemed to be deaf to their cries for help. bern was doing its best by embassies to assist them; but it dared not attack the pays de vaud when freiburg, angry at the process of the reformation, threatened a counter attack. after the siege was raised, the strongholds in the surrounding country remained in the possession of the enemy, and the people belonging to geneva were liable to be pillaged and maltreated. within the city the number of evangelicals increased week by week. then came a sensational event which brought about the ruin of the roman catholic party. a woman, antonia vax, cook in the house of claude bernard, with whom the three pastors dwelt, attempted to poison viret, farel, and froment.[ ] the confession of the prisoner, combined with other circumstances, created the impression among the members of council and the people of geneva that the priests of the town had instigated the attempt, and a strong feeling in favour of the protestant pastors swept over the city. the council at once provided lodging for viret and farel in the convent of the cordeliers. when the guardian of that convent asked leave to hold public discussions on religious questions in the great church belonging to the convent, it was at once granted. the council itself made arrangements for the public disputation. five _thèses évangéliques_ were drafted by the protestant pastors, and the council invited discussion upon them from all and sundry.[ ] invitations were sent to the canons of the cathedral, and to all the priests and monks of geneva; safe-conducts were promised to all foreign theologians who desired to take part;[ ] a special attempt was made to induce a renowned paris roman catholic champion, pierre cornu, a theologian trained at the sorbonne, who happened to be at grenoble, to defend the romanist position by attacking the _theses_. the _theses_ themselves were posted up in geneva as early as the st of may ( ), and copies were sent to all the priests and convents within the territories of the genevans.[ ] the disputation was fixed to open on the th of may. the council nominated eight commissioners, half of whom were roman catholics, to maintain order, and four secretaries to keep minutes of the proceedings.[ ] efforts were made to induce roman catholic theologians of repute for their learning to attend and attack the _theses_. but the bishop of geneva had forbidden the disputation, and the council were unable to prevail on any stranger to appear. when the opening day arrived, and the council, commissioners, and secretaries were solemnly seated in their places in the great hall of the convent, no romanist defender of the faith appeared to impugn the evangelical _theses_. farel and viret nevertheless expounded and defended. the disputation continued at intervals during four weeks, till the th of june, romanist champions accepted the reformers' challenge--jean chapuis, prior of the dominican convent at plainpalais, near geneva, and jean cachi, confessor to the sisters of st. clara in the city. but they were no match for men like farel. chapuis himself apologised for the absence of the genevan priests and monks, by saying that even in his convent there was a lack of learned men. the weakness of the romanist defence made a great impression on the people of geneva. they went about saying to each other, "if all christian princes permitted a free discussion like our mm. of geneva, the affair would soon be settled without burnings, or slaughter, or murders; but the pope and his followers, the cardinals and the bishops and the priests, know well that if free discussion is permitted all is lost for them. so all these powers forbid any discussion or conversation save by fire and by sword." they knew that all throughout romance switzerland the reformers, whether in a minority or in a majority, were eager for a public discussion. when the disputation was ended, farel urged the council to declare themselves on the side of the reformation; but they hesitated until popular tumults forced their hand. on july rd, farel preached in the church of the madeleine. the council made mild remonstrances. then he preached in the church of st. gervais. lastly, on the th of august, the people forced him to preach in the cathedral, st. peter's (aug. th). in the afternoon the priests were at vespers as usual. as they chanted the psalm-- "their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands. they have mouths, but they speak not: eyes have they, but they see not; they have ears, but they hear not; noses have they, but they smell not; they have hands, but they handle not; feet have they, but they walk not; neither speak they through their throat," someone in the throng shouted, "you curse, as you chant, all who make graven images and trust in them. why do you let them remain here?" it was the signal for a tumult. the crowd rushed to throw to the ground and break in pieces the statues of the saints; and the children pushing among the crowd picked up the fragments, and rushing to the doors, said, "we have the gods of the priests, would you like some?"[ ] next day the riots were renewed in the parish and convent churches, and the images of the saints were defaced or destroyed. the council met on the th, and summoned farel before them. the minutes state that he made an _oratio magna_, ending with the declaration that he and his fellow-preachers were willing to submit to death if it could be shown that they taught anything contrary to the holy scriptures. then, falling on his knees, he poured forth one of those wonderful prayers which more than anything else exhibited the exalted enthusiasm of the great missionary. the religious question was discussed next day in the _council of the two hundred_, when it was resolved to abolish the mass provisionally, to summon the monks before the council, and to ask them to give their reasons for maintaining the mass and the worship of the saints. the two councils resolved to inform the people of bern about what they had done.[ ] it is evident that the two councils had been hurried by the iconoclastic zeal of the people along a path they had meant to tread in a much more leisurely fashion. the political position was full of uncertainties. their enemies were still in the field against them. bern seemed to be unable to assist them. they were ready to welcome the intervention of france. it was the fear of increasing their external troubles rather than any zeal for the roman catholic faith that had prevented the council from espousing the reformation immediately after the public disputation. "if we abolish the mass, image worship, and everything popish, for one enemy we have now we are sure to have an hundred," was their thought.[ ] the official representatives of the roman catholic religion did not appear to advantage at this crisis of their fate. they were in no haste to defend their worship before the council. when they at last appeared (nov. th, ), the monks in the forenoon and the secular clergy in the afternoon, there was a careless indifference in their answers. the council seem to have referred them to farel's summary of the matters discussed in the public disputation which began on the th of may, and to have asked them what they had to say against its conclusions and in favour of the mass and of the adoration of the saints.[ ] the monks one after another (twelve of them appeared before the council) answered monotonously that they were unlearned people, who lived as they had been taught by their fathers, and did not inquire further. the secular clergy, by their spokesman roletus de pane, said that they had nothing to do with the disputation and what had been said there; that they had no desire to listen to more addresses from farel; and that they meant to live as their predecessors.[ ] this was the end. the two deputations of monks and seculars were informed by the council that they must cease saying mass until further orders were given. the reformation was legally established in geneva, and the city stood forth with bern as altogether protestant.[ ] the dark clouds on the political horizon were rising. france seemed about to interfere in favour of geneva, and the fear of france in possession of the "gate of western switzerland" was stronger than reluctance to permit geneva to become a protestant city. the council of freiburg promised to allow the bernese army to march through their territory. bern renounced its alliance with savoy on november th, . war was declared on january th. the army of bern left its territories, gathering reinforcements as it went; for towns like neuville, neuchâtel, lausanne, payerne--oppressed protestant communities in romance switzerland--felt that the hour of their liberation was at hand, and their armed burghers were eager to strike one good stroke at their oppressors under the leadership of the proud republic. there was little fighting. the greater part of the pays de vaud was conquered without striking a blow, and the army of the duke of savoy and the bishop of geneva was dispersed without a battle. a few sieges were needed to complete the victory. the great republic, after its fashion, had waited till the opportune moment, and then struck once and for all. its decisive victory brought deliverance not only to geneva, but to lausanne and many other protestant municipalities in romance switzerland (aug. th, ). the democracy of geneva was served heir to the seignorial rights of the bishop, and to the sovereign rights of the duke of savoy over city and lands. geneva became an independent republic under the protectorate of bern, and to some extent dependent on that canton. in the month of december , the syndics and council of geneva had adopted the legend on the coat of arms of the town, _post tenebras lux_--a device which became very famous, and appeared on its coinage. the resolution of the council of the two hundred to abolish the mass and saint worship was officially confirmed by the citizens assembled, "as was the custom, by sound of bell and of trumpet" (may st, ). geneva had gained much. it had won political independence, for which it had been fighting for thirty years, modified by its relations to bern,[ ] but greater than it had ever before enjoyed. the reformed religion had been established, although the fact remained that the romanist partisans had still a good deal of hidden strength. but much was still to be done to make the town the citadel of the reformation which it was to become. its past history had demoralised its people. the rule of dissolute bishops and the example of a turbulent and immoral clergy had poisoned the morals of the city.[ ] the liberty won might easily degenerate into licence, and ominous signs were not lacking that this was about to take place. "it is impossible to deny," says kampschulte, the roman catholic biographer of calvin, "that disorder and demoralisation had become threatening in geneva; it would have been almost a miracle had it not been so." farel did what he could. he founded schools. he organised the hospitals. he strove to kindle moral life in the people of his adopted city. but his talents and his character fitted him much more for pioneer work than for the task which now lay before him. farel was a chivalrous frenchman, born among the mountains of dauphiné, whose courage, amounting to reckless daring, won for him the passionate admiration of soldiers like wildermuth,[ ] and made him volunteer to lead any forlorn hope however desperate. he was sympathetic to soft-heartedness, yet utterly unable to restrain his tongue; in danger of his life one week because of his violent language, and the next almost adored, by those who would have slain him, for the reckless way in which he nursed the sick and dying during a visitation of the plague. he was the brilliant partisan leader, seeing only what lay before his eyes; incapable of self-restraint; a learned theologian, yet careless in his expression of doctrine, and continually liable to misapprehension. no one was better fitted to attack the enemy's strongholds, few less able to hold them when once possessed. he saw, without the faintest trace of jealousy--the man was too noble--others building on the foundations he had laid. it is almost pathetic to see that none of the romance swiss churches whose apostle he had been, cared to retain him as their permanent leader. in the closing years of his life he went back to his beloved france, and ended as he had begun, a pioneer evangelist in lyons, metz, and elsewhere,--a leader of forlorn hopes, carrying within him a perpetual spring and the effervescing recklessness of youth. he had early seen that the pioneer life which he led was best lived without wife or children, and he remained unmarried until his sixty-ninth year. then he met with a poor widow who had lost husband and property for religion's sake in rouen, and had barely escaped with life. he married her because in no other way could he find for her a home and protection. geneva needed a man of altogether different mould of character to do the work that was now necessary. when farel's anxieties and vexations were at their height, he learned almost by accident that a distinguished young french scholar, journeying from ferrara to basel, driven out of his direct course by war, had arrived in geneva, and was staying for a night in the town. this was calvin. § . _calvin: youth and education._ jean cauvin (latinised into calvinus) was born at noyon in picardy on the th of july . he was the second son in a family of four sons and two daughters. his father, gerard cauvin, was a highly esteemed lawyer, the confidential legal adviser of the nobility and higher clergy of the district. his mother, jeanne la france, a very beautiful woman, was noted for her devout piety and her motherly affection. calvin, who says little about his childhood, relates how he was once taken by his mother on the festival of st. anna to see a relic of the saint preserved in the abbey of ourscamp, near noyon, and that he remembers kissing "part of the body of st. anna, the mother of the virgin mary."[ ] the cauvins belonged to what we should call the upper middle class in social standing, and the young jean entered the house of the noble family of de montmor to share the education of the children, his father paying for all his expenses. the young de montmors were sent to college in paris, and jean cauvin, then fourteen years of age, went with them. this early social training never left calvin, who was always the reserved, polished french gentleman--a striking contrast to his great predecessor luther. calvin was a picard, and the characteristics of the province were seen in its greatest son. the picards were always independent, frequently strongly anti-clerical, combining in a singular way fervent enthusiasm and a cold tenacity of purpose. no province in france had produced so many sympathisers with wiclif and hus, and "picards" was a term met with as frequently on the books of inquisitors as "wiclifites," "hussites," or "waldenses"--all the names denoting dissenters from the mediæval church who accepted all the articles of the apostles' creed but were strongly anti-clerical. these "brethren" lingered in all the countries of western europe until the sixteenth century, and their influence made itself felt in the beginnings of the stirrings for reform. gerard cauvin had early seen that his second son, jean, was _de bon esprit, d'une prompte naturelle à concevoir, et inventif en l'estude des lettres humaines_,[ ] and this induced him to give the boy as good an education as he could, and to destine him for the study of theology. his legal connection with the higher clergy of noyon enabled him, in the fashion of the day, to procure for his son more than one benefice. the boy was tonsured, a portion of the revenue was used to pay for a curate who did the work, and the rest went to provide for the lad's education. young calvin went with the three sons of the de montmor family to the college de la marche in paris. it was not a famous one, but when calvin studied there in the lowest class he had as his professor mathurin cordier, the ablest teacher of his generation.[ ] his aim was to give his pupils a thorough knowledge of the french and latin languages--a foundation on which they might afterwards build for themselves. he had a singularly sweet disposition, and a very open mind. he was brought to know the gospel by robert estienne, and in his name was inscribed, along with those of courat and clement marot, on the list of the principal heretics in paris. calvin was not permitted to remain long under this esteemed teacher. the atmosphere was probably judged to be too liberal for one who was destined to study theology. he was transferred to the more celebrated college de montaigu. calvin was again fortunate in his principal teachers. he became the pupil of noël béda and of pierre tempête, who taught him the art of formal disputation. calvin had come to paris in his fourteenth year, and left it when he was nineteen--the years when a lad becomes a man, and his character is definitely formed. if we are to judge by his own future references, no one had more formative influence over him than mathurin cordier--short as had been the period of their familiar intercourse. calvin had shown a singularly acute mind, and proved himself to be a scholar who invariably surpassed his fellow students. he was always surrounded by attached friends--the three brothers de montmor, the younger members of the famous family of cop, and many others. these student friends were devoted to him all his life. many of them settled with him at geneva. calvin left the college de montaigu in . sometime during the same year another celebrated pupil entered it. this was ignatius loyola. whether the two great leaders attended college together, whether they ever met, it is impossible to say--the dates are not precise enough. "perhaps they crossed each other in some street of mount sainte-geneviève: the young frenchman of eighteen on horseback as usual, and the spaniard of six and thirty on foot, his purse furnished with some pieces of gold he owed to charity, shoving before him an ass burdened with his books, and carrying in his pocket a manuscript, entitled _exercitia spiritualia_."[ ] calvin left paris because his father had now resolved that his son should be a lawyer and not a theologian. gerard cauvin had quarrelled with the ecclesiastics of noyon, and had even been excommunicated. he refused to render his accounts in two executry cases, and had remained obstinate. why he was so, it is impossible to say. his children had no difficulty in arranging matters after his death. the quarrel ended the hopes of the father to provide well for his son in the church, and he ordered him to quit paris for the great law school at orleans. it is by no means improbable that the father's decision was very welcome to the son. bèze tells us that calvin had already got some idea of the true religion, had begun to study the holy scriptures, and to separate himself from the ceremonies of the church;[ ]--perhaps his friendship with pierre robert olivétan, a relation, a native of noyon, and the translator of the bible into french, had brought this about. the young man went to orleans in the early part of and remained there for a year, then went on to bourges, in order to attend the lectures of the famous publicist, andré alciat, who was destined to be as great a reformer of the study of law as calvin was of the study of theology. in orleans with its humanism, and in bourges with its incipient protestantism, calvin was placed in a position favourable for the growth of ideas which had already taken root in his mind. at bourges he studied greek under wolmar, a lutheran in all but the name, and dedicated to him long afterwards his _commentary on the second epistle to the corinthians_. he seems to have lived in the house of wolmar; another inmate was théodore de bèze, the future leader of the protestants of france, then a boy of twelve. the death of his father (may th, ) left calvin his own master. he had obeyed the paternal wishes when he studied for the church in paris; he had obediently transferred himself to the study of law; he now resolved to follow the bent of his own mind, and, dedicating himself to study, to become a man of letters. he returned to paris and entered the college fortet, meaning to attend the lectures of the humanist professors whom francis i., under the guidance of budé and cop, was attracting to his capital. these "royal lecturers" and their courses of instruction were looked on with great suspicion by the sorbonne, and calvin's conduct in placing himself under their instruction showed that he had already emancipated himself from that strict devotion to the "superstitions of the papacy" to which he tells us that he was obstinately attached in his boyhood. he soon became more than the pupil of budé, cop, and other humanists. he was a friend, admitted within the family circle. he studied greek with pierre danès and hebrew under vatable. in due time (april ), when barely twenty-three years of age, he published at his own expense his first book, a learned commentary on the two books of seneca's _de clementia_. the book is usually referred to as an example of precocious erudition. the author shows that he knew as minutely as extensively the whole round of classical literature accessible to his times. he quotes, and that aptly, from fifty-five separate latin authors--from thirty-three separate works of cicero, from all the works of horace and ovid, from five comedies of terence, and from all the works of virgil. he quotes from twenty-two separate greek authors--from five or six of the principal writings of aristotle, and from four of the writings of plato and of plutarch. calvin does not quote plautus, but his use of the phrase _remoram facere_ makes it likely that he was well acquainted with that writer also.[ ] the future theologian was also acquainted with many of the fathers--with augustine, lactantius, jerome, synesius, and cyprian. erasmus had published an edition of seneca, and had advised scholars to write commentaries, and young calvin followed the advice of the prince of humanists. did he imitate him in more? did calvin also disdain to use the new learning merely to display scholarship, did he mean to put it to modern uses? francis i. was busy with one of his sporadic persecutions of the huguenots when the book was published, and learned conjectures have been made whether the two facts had any designed connection--an exhortation addressed to an emperor to exercise clemency, and a king engaging in persecuting his subjects. two things seem to show that calvin meant his book to be a protest against the persecution of the french protestants. his preface is a daring attack on the abuses which were connected with the administration of justice in the public courts, and he says distinctly that he hopes the commentary will be of service to the public.[ ] it seems evident from calvin's correspondence that he had joined the small band of protestants in paris, and that he was intimate with gerard roussel, the evangelical preacher,[ ] the friend of marguerite of navarre, of lefèvre, of farel, and a member of the "group of meaux." the question occurs, when did his conversion take place? this has been keenly debated;[ ] but the arguments concern words more than facts, and arise from the various meanings attached to the word "conversion" rather than from the difficulty of determining the time. calvin, who very rarely reveals the secrets of his own soul, tells in his preface to his _commentary on the psalms_, that god drew him from his obstinate attachment to the superstitions of the papacy by a "sudden conversion," and that this took place after he had devoted himself to the study of law in obedience to the wishes of his father. it does not appear to have been such a sudden and complete vision of divine graciousness as luther received in the convent at erfurt. but it was a beginning. he received then some taste of true piety (_aliquo veræ pietatis gusto_). he was abashed to find, he goes on to relate, that barely a year afterwards, those who had a desire to learn what pure doctrine was gradually ranged themselves around him to learn from him who knew so little (_me novitium adhuc et tironem_). this was perhaps at orleans, but it may have been at bourges. when he returned to paris to betake himself to humanist studies, he was a protestant, convinced intellectually as well as drawn by the pleadings of the heart. he joined the little band who had gathered round estienne de la forge, who met secretly in the house of that pious merchant, and listened to the addresses of gerard roussel. he was frequently called upon to expound the scriptures in the little society; and a tradition, which there is no reason to doubt, declares that he invariably concluded his discourse with the words, "if god be for us, who can be against us?" he was suddenly compelled to flee from paris. the theologians of the sorbonne were vehemently opposed to the "royal lecturers" who represented the humanism favoured by margaret, the sister of francis, and queen of navarre. in their wrath they had dared to attack margaret's famous book, _miroir de l'âme pécheresse_, and had in consequence displeased the court. nicolas cop, the friend of calvin, professor in the college of sainte barbe, was rector of the university ( ). he assembled the four faculties, and the faculty of medicine disowned the proceedings of the theologians. it was the custom for the rector to deliver an address before the university yearly during his term of office, and cop asked his friend calvin to compose the oration.[ ] calvin made use of the occasion to write on "christian philosophy," taking for his motto, "_blessed are the poor in spirit_" (matt. v. ). the discourse was an eloquent defence of evangelical truth, in which the author borrowed from erasmus and from luther, besides adding characteristic ideas of his own. the wrath of the sorbonne may be imagined. two monks were employed to accuse the author of heresy before _parlement_, which responded willingly. it called the attention of the king to papal bulls against the lutheran heresy. meanwhile people discovered that calvin was the real author, and he had to flee from paris. after wanderings throughout france he found refuge in basel ( ). it was there that he finished his _christianæ religionis institutio_, which had for its preface the celebrated letter addressed to francis i. king of france. the book was the strongest weapon protestantism had yet forged against the papacy, and the letter "a bold proclamation, solemnly made by a young man of six-and-twenty, who, more or less unconsciously, assumed the command of protestantism against its enemies, calumniators, and persecutors." news had reached basel that francis, who was seeking the alliance of the german lutheran princes, and was posing as protector of the german protestants, had resolved to purge his kingdom of the so-called heresy, and was persecuting his protestant subjects. this double-dealing gave vigour to calvin's pen. he says in his preface that he wrote the book with two distinct purposes. he meant it to prepare and qualify students of theology for reading the divine word, that they may have an easy introduction to it, and be able to proceed in it without obstruction. he also meant it to be a vindication of the teaching of the reformers against the calumnies of their enemies, who had urged the king of france to persecute them and drive them from france. his dedication was: _to his most gracious majesty, francis, king of france and his sovereign, john calvin wisheth peace and salvation in christ._ among other things he said: "i exhibit my confession to you that you may know the nature of that doctrine which is the object of such unbounded rage to those madmen who are now disturbing your kingdom with fire and sword. for i shall not be afraid to acknowledge that this treatise contains a summary of that very doctrine which, according to their clamours, deserves to be punished with imprisonment, banishment, proscription, and flames, and to be exterminated from the face of the earth." he meant to state in calm precise fashion what protestants believed; and he made the statement in such a way as to challenge comparison between those beliefs and the teaching of the mediæval church. he took the _apostles' creed_, the venerable symbol of western christendom, and proceeded to show that when tested by this standard the protestants were truer catholics than the romanists. he took this _apostles' creed_, which had been recited or sung in the public worship of the church of the west from the earliest times, which differed from other creeds in this, that it owed its authority to no council, but sprang directly from the heart of the church, and he made it the basis of his _institutio_. for the _institutio_ is an expansion and exposition of the _apostles' creed_, and of the four sentences which it explains. its basis is: _i believe in god the father; and in his son jesus christ; and in the holy ghost; and in the holy catholic church._ the _institutio_ is divided into four parts, each part expounding one of these fundamental sentences. the first part describes god, the creator, or, as the creed says: "god, the father almighty, maker of heaven and earth"; the second, god the son, the redeemer and his redemption; the third, god the holy ghost and his means of grace; the fourth, the holy catholic church, its nature and marks. this division and arrangement, based on the _apostles' creed_, means that calvin did not think he was expounding a new theology or had joined a new church. the theology of the reformation was the old teaching of the church of christ, and the doctrinal beliefs of the reformers were those views of truth which were founded on the word of god, and which had been known, or at least felt, by pious people all down the generations from the earliest centuries. he and his fellow reformers believed and taught the old theology of the earliest creeds, made plain and freed from the superstitions which mediæval theologians had borrowed from pagan philosophy and practices. the first edition of the _institutio_ was published in march , in latin. it was shorter and in many ways inferior to the carefully revised editions of and . in the later editions the arrangement of topics was somewhat altered; but the fundamental doctrine remains unchanged; the author was not a man to publish a treatise on theology without carefully weighing all that had to be said. in , calvin printed a french edition, which he had translated himself "for the benefit of his countrymen." after finishing his _institutio_ (the ms. was completed in august , and the printing in march ), calvin, under the assumed name of charles d'espeville, set forth on a short visit to italy with a companion, louis du tillet, who called himself louis de haulmont. he intended to visit renée, duchess of ferrara, daughter of louis xii. of france, known for her piety and her inclination to the reformed faith. he also wished to see something of italy. after a short sojourn he was returning to strassburg, with the intention of settling there and devoting himself to a life of quiet study, when he was accidentally compelled to visit geneva, and his whole plan of life was changed. the story can best be told in his own words. he says in the preface to his _commentary on the psalms_: "as the most direct route to strassburg, to which i then intended to retire, was blocked by the wars, i had resolved to pass quickly by geneva, without staying longer than a single night in that city.... a person (louis du tillet) who has now returned to the papists discovered me and made me known to others. upon this farel, who burned with an extraordinary zeal to advance the gospel, immediately strained every nerve to detain me. after having learnt that my heart was set upon devoting myself to private studies, for which i wished to keep myself free from other pursuits, and finding that he gained nothing by entreaties, he proceeded to utter an imprecation, that god would curse my retirement and the tranquillity of the studies which i sought, if i should withdraw and refuse assistance when the necessity was so urgent. by this imprecation i was so stricken with terror that i desisted from the journey which i had undertaken." § . _calvin with farel in geneva._ calvin was twenty-seven years of age and farel twenty years older when they began to work together in geneva; and, notwithstanding the disparity in age and utter dissimilarity of character, the two men became strongly attached to each other. "we had one heart and one soul," calvin says. farel introduced him to the leading citizens, who were not much impressed by the reserved, frail young foreigner whose services their pastor was so anxious to secure. they did not even ask his name. the minute of the council (sept. th, ), giving him employment and promising him support, runs: "master william farel stated the need for the lecture begun by _this frenchman_ in st. peter's."[ ] calvin had declined the pastorate; but he had agreed to act as "professor in sacred learning to the church in geneva (_sacrarum literarum in ecclesia genevensi professor_)." his power was of that quiet kind that is scarcely felt till it has gripped and holds. he began his work by giving lectures daily in st. peter's on the epistles of st. paul. they were soon felt to be both powerful and attractive. calvin soon made a strong impression on the people of the city. an occasion arose which revealed him in a way that his friends had never before known. bern had conquered the greater part of the pays de vaud in the late war. its council was determined to instruct the people of its newly acquired territory in evangelical principles by means of a public disputation, to be held at lausanne during the first week of october.[ ] the three hundred and thirty-seven priests of the newly conquered lands, the inmates of the thirteen abbeys and convents, of the twenty-five priories, of the two chapters of canons, were invited to come to lausanne to refute if they could the ten evangelical _theses_ arranged by farel and viret.[ ] the council of bern pledged itself that there would be the utmost freedom of debate, not only for its own subjects, but "for all comers, to whatever land they belonged." farel insisted on this freedom in his own trenchant way: "you may speak here as boldly as you please; _our_ arguments are neither faggot, fire, nor sword, prison nor torture; public executioners are not our doctors of divinity.... truth is strong enough to outweigh falsehood; if you have it, bring it forward." the romanists were by no means eager to accept the challenge. out of the three hundred and thirty-seven priests invited, only one hundred and seventy-four appeared, and of these only four attempted to take part. two who had promised to discuss did not show themselves. only ten of the forty religious houses sent representatives, and only one of them ventured to meet the evangelicals in argument.[ ] as at bern in , as at geneva in may , so here at lausanne in october , the romanists showed themselves unable to meet their opponents, and the policy of bern in insisting on public disputations was abundantly justified. farel and viret were the protestant champions. farel preached the opening sermon in the cathedral on oct. st, and closed the conference by another sermon on oct. th. the discussion began on the monday, when the huge cathedral was thronged by the inhabitants of the city and of the surrounding villages. in the middle of the church a space was reserved for the disputants. there sat the four secretaries, the two presidents, and five commissioners representing _les princes chretiens messieurs de berne_, distinguished by their black doublets and shoulder-knots faced with red, and by their broad-brimmed hats ornamented with great bunches of feathers,--hats kept stiffly on heads as befitting the representatives of such potent lords. calvin had not meant to speak; farel and viret were the orators; he was only there in attendance. but on the thursday, when the question of the real presence was discussed, one of the romanists read a carefully prepared paper, in the course of which he said that the protestants despised and neglected the ancient fathers, fearing their authority, which was against their views. then calvin rose. he began with the sarcastic remark that the people who reverenced the fathers might spend some little time in turning over their pages before they spoke about them. he quoted from one father after another,--"cyprian, discussing the subject now under review in the third epistle of his second book of epistles, says ... tertullian, refuting the error of marcion, says ... the author of some imperfect commentaries on st. matthew, which some have attributed to st. john chrysostom, in the th homily about the middle, says ... st. augustine, in his rd epistle, near the end, says ... augustine, in one of his homilies on st. john's gospel, the th or the th, i am not sure at this moment which, says ...";[ ] and so on. he knew the ancient fathers as no one else in the century. he had not taken their opinions second-hand from peter of lombardy's _sententiæ_ as did most of the schoolmen and contemporary romanist theologians. it was the first time that he displayed, almost accidentally, his marvellous patristic knowledge,--a knowledge for which melanchthon could never sufficiently admire him. but in geneva the need of the hour was organisation and familiar instruction, and calvin set himself to work at once. he has told us how he felt. "when i came first to this church," he said, "there was almost nothing. sermons were preached;[ ] the idols had been sought out and burned, but there was no other reformation; everything was in disorder."[ ] in the second week of january he had prepared a draft of the reforms he wished introduced. it was presented to the _small council_ by farel; the members had considered it, and were able to transmit it with their opinion to the _council of the two hundred_ on january th, . it forms the basis of all calvin's ecclesiastical work in geneva, and deserves study. the memorandum treats of four things, and four only--the holy supper of our lord (_la saincte cène de nostre seigneur_), singing in public worship, the religious instruction of children, and marriage. in every rightly ordered church, it is said, the holy supper ought to be celebrated frequently, and well attended. it ought to be dispensed every lord's day at least;[ ] such was the practice in the apostolic church, and ought to be ours; the celebration is a great comfort to all believers, for in it they are made partakers of the body and blood of jesus, of his death, of his life, of his spirit, and of all his benefits. but the present weakness of the people makes it undesirable to introduce so sweeping a change, and therefore it is proposed that the holy supper be celebrated once each month "in one of the three places where sermons are now delivered--in the churches of st. peter, st. gervais, and de rive." the celebration, however, ought to be for the whole church of geneva, and not simply for those living in the quarters of the town where these churches are. thus every one will have the opportunity of monthly communion. but if unworthy partakers approach the table of the lord, the holy supper will be soiled and contaminated. to prevent this, the lord has placed the _discipline de l'excommunication_ within his church in order to maintain its purity, and this ought to be used. perhaps the best way of exercising it is to appoint men of known worth, dwelling in different quarters of the town, who ought to be trusted to watch and report to the ministers all in their neighbourhood who despise christ jesus by living in open sin. the ministers ought to warn all such persons not to come to the holy supper, and the discipline of excommunication only begins when such warnings are unheeded. congregational singing of psalms ought to be part of the public worship of the church of christ; for psalms sung in this way are really public prayers, and when they are sung hearts are moved and worshippers are incited to form similar prayers for themselves, and to render to god the like praises with the same loving loyalty. but as all this is unusual, and the people need to be trained, it may be well to select children, to teach them to sing in a clear and distinct fashion in the congregation, and if the people listen with all attention and follow "with the heart what is sung by the mouth," they will, "little by little, become accustomed to sing together" as a congregation.[ ] it is most important for the due preservation of purity of doctrine that children from their youth should be instructed how to give a reason for their faith, and therefore some simple catechism or confession of faith ought to be prepared and taught to the children. at "certain seasons of the year" the children ought to be brought before the pastors, who should examine them and expound the teachings of the catechism. the ordinance of marriage has been disfigured by the evil and unscriptural laws of the papacy, and it were well that the whole matter be carefully thought over and some simple rules laid down agreeable to the word of god. this memorandum, for it is scarcely more, was dignified with the name of the _articles_ (_articuli de regimine ecclesiæ_). it was generally approved by the _small council_ and the _council of two hundred_, who made, besides, the definite regulations that the holy supper should be celebrated four times in the year, and that announcements of marriages should be made for three successive sundays before celebration. but it is very doubtful whether the council went beyond this general approval, or that they gave definite and deliberate consent to calvin's proposals about "the discipline of excommunication." these _articles_ were superseded by the famous _ordonnances ecclésiastiques de l'Église de genève_, adopted on nov. th, ; but as they are the first instance in which calvin publicly presented his special ideas about ecclesiastical government, it may be well to describe what these were. to understand them aright, to see the _new_ thing which calvin tried to introduce into the church life of the sixteenth century, it is necessary to distinguish between two things which it must be confessed were practically entangled with each other in these days--the attempt to regulate the private life by laws municipal or national, and the endeavour to preserve the solemnity and purity of the celebration of the holy supper. when historians, ecclesiastical or other, charge calvin with attempting the former, they forget that there was no need for him to do so. geneva, like every other mediæval town, had its laws which interfered with private life at every turn, and that in a way which to our modern minds seems the grossest tyranny, but which was then a commonplace of city life. every mediæval town had its laws against extravagance in dress, in eating and in drinking, against cursing and swearing, against gaming, dances, and masquerades. they prescribed the number of guests to be invited to weddings, and dinners, and dances; when the pipers were to play, when they were to leave off, and what they were to be paid. it must be confessed that when one turns over the pages of town chronicles, or reads such a book as baader's _nürnberger polizeiordnung_, the thought cannot help arising that the civic fathers, like some modern law-makers, were content to place stringent regulations on the statute-book, and then, exhausted by their moral endeavour, had no energy left to put them into practice. but every now and then a righteous fit seized them, and maid-servants were summoned before the council for wearing silk aprons, or fathers for giving too luxurious wedding feasts, or citizens for working on a church festival, or a mother, for adorning her daughter too gaily for her marriage. the citizens of every mediæval town lived under a municipal discipline which we would pronounce to be vexatious and despotic. every instance quoted by modern historians to prove, as they think, calvin's despotic interference with the details of private life, can be paralleled by references to the police-books of mediæval towns in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. to make them ground of accusation against calvin is simply to plead ignorance of the whole municipal police of the later middle ages. to say that calvin acquiesced in or approved of such legislation is simply to show that he belonged to the sixteenth century. when towns adopted the reformation, the spirit of civic legislation did not change, but some old regulations were allowed to lapse, and fresh ones suggested by the new ideas took their place. there was nothing novel in the law which bern made for the pays de vaud in (dec. th), prohibiting dancing with the exception of "trois danses honêtes" at weddings; but it was a new regulation which prescribed that parents must bring their daughters to the marriage altar "le chiefz couvert." it was not a new thing when basel in appointed three honourable men (one from the council and two from the commonalty) to watch over the morals of the inhabitants of each parish, and report to the council. it was new, but quite in the line of mediæval civic legislation, when bern forbade scandalous persons from approaching the lord's table ( ). calvin's thought moved on another plane. he was distinguished among the reformers for his zeal to restore again the conditions which had ruled in the church of the first three centuries. this had been a favourite idea with lefèvre,[ ] who had taught it to farel, gerard roussel, and the other members of the "group of meaux." calvin may have received it from roussel; but there is no need to suppose that it did not come to him quite independently. he had studied the fathers of the first three centuries more diligently than any of his contemporaries. he recognised as none of them did that the holy supper of the lord was the centre of the religious life of the church, and the apex and crown of her worship. he saw how careful the church of the first three centuries had been to protect the sacredness of the simple yet profound rite; and that it had done so by preventing the approach of all unworthy communicants. discipline was the nerve of the early church, and excommunication was the nerve of discipline; and calvin wished to introduce both. moreover, he knew that in the early church it belonged to the membership and to the ministry to exercise discipline and to pronounce excommunication. he desired to reintroduce all these distinctive features of the church of the first three centuries--weekly communion, discipline and excommunication exercised by the pastorate and the members. he recognised that when the people had been accustomed to come to the lord's table only once or twice in the year, it was impossible to introduce weekly communion all at once. but he insisted that the warnings of st. paul about unworthy communicants were so weighty that notorious sinners ought to be prevented from approaching the holy supper, and that the obstinately impenitent should be excommunicated. this and this alone was the distinctive thing about calvin's proposals; this was the new conception which he introduced. calvin's mistake was that, while he believed that the membership and the pastorate should exercise discipline and excommunication, he also insisted that the secular power should enforce the censures of the church. his ideas worked well in the french church, a church "under the cross," and in the same position as the church of the early centuries. but the conception that the secular power ought to support with civil pains and penalties the disciplinary decisions of ecclesiastical courts, must have produced a tyranny not unlike what had existed in the mediæval church. calvin's ideas, however, were never accepted save nominally in any of the swiss churches--not even in geneva. the very thought of excommunication in the hands of the church was eminently distasteful to the protestants of the sixteenth century; they had suffered too much from it as exercised by the roman catholic church. nor did it agree with the conceptions which the magistrates of the swiss republics had of their own dignity, that they should be the servants of the ministry to carry out their sentences.[ ] the leading reformers in german switzerland almost universally held that excommunication, if it ever ought to be practised, should be in the hands of the civil authorities. zwingli did not think that the church should exercise the right of excommunication. he declared that the example of the first three centuries was not to be followed, because in these days the "church could have no assistance from the emperors, who were pagans"; whereas in zurich there was a christian magistracy, who could relieve the church of what must be in any case a disagreeable duty. his successor, bullinger, the principal adviser of the divines of the english reformation, went further. writing to leo jud ( ), he declares that excommunication ought not to belong to the church, and that he doubts whether it should be exercised even by the secular authorities; and in a letter to a romance pastor (nov. th, ) he expounds his views about excommunication, and states how he differs from his _optimos fratres gallos_ (viret, farel, and calvin).[ ] the german swiss reformers took the one side, and the french swiss reformers took the other; and the latter were all men who had learned to reverence the usages of the church of the first three centuries, and desired to see its methods of ecclesiastical discipline restored. the people invariably sided with the german-speaking reformers.[ ] calvin managed, with great difficulty, to introduce excommunication into geneva after his return from exile, but not in a way conformable to his ideas. farel could not get it introduced into neuchâtel. he believed, founding on the new testament,[ ] that the membership of each parish had the right to exclude from the holy supper sinners who had resisted all admonitions. but the council and community of neuchâtel would not tolerate the "practice and usage of excommunication," and did not allow it to appear in their ecclesiastical ordinances of or of . oecolampadius induced the council of basel to permit excommunication, and to inscribe the names of the excommunicate on placards fixed on the doors of the churches. zwingli remonstrated vigorously, and the practice was abandoned. bern was willing to warn open sinners from approaching the lord's table, but would not hear of excommunication, and declared roundly that "ministers, who were sinners themselves, being of flesh and blood, should not attempt to penetrate into the individual consciences, whose secrets were known to god alone." viret tried to introduce a _discipline ecclésiastique_ into the pays de vaud, but was unable to induce magistrates or people to accept it. the young protestant churches of switzerland, with the very doubtful exception of geneva after , refused to allow the introduction of the disciplinary usages of the primitive church. they had no objection to discipline, however searching and vexatious, provided it was simply an application of the old municipal legislation, to which they had for generations been accustomed, to the higher moral requirements of religion.[ ] it was universally recognised that the standard of moral living all over french switzerland was very low, and that stringent measures were required to improve it. no exception was taken to the severe reprimand which the council of bern addressed to the subject council of lausanne for their failure to correct the evil habits of the people of that old episcopal town;[ ] but such discipline had to be exercised in the old mediæval way through the magistrates, and not in any new-fangled fashion borrowed from the primitive church. so far as switzerland was concerned, calvin's entreaties to model their ecclesiastical life on what he believed with lefèvre to be the golden period of the church's history, fell on heedless ears. one must go to the french church, and in a lesser degree to the church of knox in scotland, to see calvin's ideas put in practice; it is vain to look for this in switzerland. the _catechism_ for children was published in , and was meant, according to the author, to give expression to a simple piety, rather than to exhibit a profound knowledge of religious truth. but, as calvin himself felt later, it was too theological for children, and was superseded by a second catechism, published immediately after his return to geneva in . the first catechism was entitled _instruction and confession of faith for the use of the church of geneva_. it expounded successively the ten commandments, the apostles' creed, the lord's prayer, and the sacraments. the duties of the pastorate and of the magistracy were stated in appendices.[ ] the _confession of faith_ had for its full title, _confession de la foy laquelle tous bourgois et habitans de genève et subjectz du pays doyvent jurer de garder et tenir extraicte de l'instruction dont on use en l'Église de la dicte ville_.[ ] it reproduced the contents of the _instruction_, and was, like it, a condensed summary of the _institutio_. this confession has often been attributed to farel, but there can be little doubt that it came from the pen of calvin.[ ] it was submitted to the council and approved by them, and they agreed that the people should be asked to swear to maintain it, the various divisions of the districts of the town appearing for the purpose before the secretary of the council. the proposal was then sent down to the council of the two hundred, where it was assented to, but not without opposition. the minutes show that some members remained faithful to the romanist faith. they said that they ought not to be compelled to take an oath which was against their conscience. others who professed themselves protestants asserted that to swear to a confession took from them their liberty. "we do not wish to be constrained," they said, "but to live in our liberty." but in the end it was resolved to do as the council had recommended. so day by day the _dizenniers_, or captains of the divisions of the town, brought their people to the cathedral, where the secretary stood in the pulpit to receive the oath. the magistrates set the example, and the people were sworn in batches, raising their hands and taking the oath. but there were malcontents who stayed away, and there were beginnings of trouble which was to increase. deputies from bern, unmindful of the fact that their city had sworn in the same way to their creed, encouraged the dissentients by saying that no one could take such an oath without perjuring himself; and this opinion strengthened the opposition. but the council of bern disowned its deputies,[ ] and refused any countenance to the malcontents, and the trouble passed. all geneva was sworn to maintain the confession. meanwhile the ministers of geneva had been urging decision about the question of discipline and excommunication; and the murmurs against them grew stronger. the council was believed to be too responsive to the pleadings of the pastors, and a stormy meeting of the general council (nov. th) revealed the smouldering discontent. on the th of january ( ) the councils of geneva rejected entirely the proposals to institute a discipline which would protect the profanation of the lord's table, by resolving that the holy supper was to be refused to no person seeking to partake. on the rd of february, at the annual election of magistrates, four syndics were chosen who were known to be the most resolute opponents of calvin and of farel. the new council did not at first show itself hostile to the preachers: their earliest minutes are rather deferential. but a large part of the citizens were violently opposed to the preachers; the syndics were their enemies: collision was bound to come sooner or later. it was at this stage that a proposal from bern brought matters to a crisis. the city contained many inhabitants who had been somewhat unwillingly dragged along the path of reformation. those who clung to the old faith were reinforced by others who had supported the reformation simply as a means of freeing the city from the rule of the prince bishop, and who had no sympathy with the religious movement. the city had long been divided into two parties, and the old differences reappeared as soon as the city declared itself protestant. the malcontents took advantage of everything that could assist them to stay the tide of reformation and hamper the work of the ministers. they patronised the anabaptists when they appeared in geneva; they supported the accusation brought against farel and calvin by pierre caroli, that they were arians because they refused to use the athanasian creed; above all, they declared that they stood for liberty, and called themselves libertines. when bern interfered, they hastened to support its ecclesiastical suggestions. bern had never been contented with the position in which it stood to geneva after its conquest of the pays de vaud. when the war was ended, or rather before it was finished, and while the bernese army of deliverance was occupying the town, the accompanying deputies of bern had claimed for their city the rights over geneva previously exercised by the prince bishop and the vidomne or representative of the duke of savoy, whom their army had conquered. they claimed to be the overlords of geneva, as they succeeded in making themselves masters of lausanne and the pays de vaud. the people of geneva resisted the demand. they declared, froment tells us, that they had not struggled and fought for more than thirty years to assert their liberties, in order to make themselves the vassals of their allies or of anyone in the wide world.[ ] bern threatened to renounce alliance; but geneva stood firm; there was always france to appeal to for aid. in the end bern had to be content with much less than it had demanded. geneva became an independent republic, served heir to all the signorial rights of the prince bishop and to all his revenues, successor also to all the justiciary rights of the vidomne or representative of the house of savoy. it gained complete sovereignty within the city; it also retained the same sovereignty over the districts (_mandements_) of penney, jussy, and thyez which had belonged to the prince bishop. on the other side, bern received the district of gaillard; geneva bound itself to make no alliance nor conclude any treaty without the consent of bern; and to admit the bernese at all times into their city. the lordship over one or two outlying districts was divided--geneva being recognised as sovereign, and having the revenues, and bern keeping the right to judge appeals, etc. it seemed to be the policy of bern to create a strong state by bringing under its strict control the greater portion of romance switzerland. her subject territories, lausanne, a large part of the pays de vaud, gex, chablais, orbe, etc., surrounded geneva on almost every side. if only geneva were reduced to the condition of the other prince bishopric, lausanne, bern's dream of rule would be realised. the reformed church was a means of solidifying these conquests. over all romance territories subject to bern the bernese ecclesiastical arrangements were to rule. her council was invariably the last court of appeal. her consistory was reproduced in all these french-speaking local churches. her religious usages and ceremonies spread all over this romance switzerland. the church in geneva was independent. might it not be brought into nearer conformity, and might not conformity in ecclesiastical matters lead to the political incorporation which bern so ardently desired? the evangelist of almost all these romance protestant churches had been farel. their ecclesiastical usages had grown up under his guidance. it would conduce to harmony in the attempt to introduce uniformity with bern if the church of geneva joined. such was the external political situation to be kept in view in considering the causes which led to the banishment of calvin from geneva. in pursuance of its scheme of ecclesiastical conformity, the council of bern summoned a synod, representing most of the evangelical churches in western switzerland, and laid its proposals before them. no detailed account of the proceedings has been preserved. there were probably some dissentients, of whom farel was most likely one, who pled that the romance churches might be left to preserve their own usages. but the general result was that bern resolved to summon another synod, representing the romance churches, to meet at lausanne (march th, ). they asked (march th) the council of geneva to permit the attendance of farel and calvin.[ ] the letter reached geneva on march th, and on that day the genevan magistrates, unsolicited by bern and without consulting their ministers, resolved to introduce the bernese ceremonies into the genevan church. next day they sent the letter of bern to farel and calvin, and at the same time warned the preachers that they would not be allowed to criticise the proceedings of the council in the pulpit. neither farel nor calvin made any remonstrance. they declared that they were willing to go to lausanne, asked the council if they had any orders to give, and said that they were ready to obey them; and this although a second letter (march th) had come from bern saying that if the genevan preachers would not accept the bern proposals they would not be permitted to attend the synod. farel and calvin accordingly went to the synod at lausanne, and were parties to the decision arrived at, which was to accept the usages of bern--that all baptisms should be celebrated at stone fonts placed at the entrance of the churches; that unleavened bread should be used at the holy supper; and that four religious festivals should be observed annually, christmas, new year's day, the annunciation, and the day of ascension--with the stipulation that bern should warn its officials not to be too hard on poor persons for working on these festival days.[ ] when the council of bern had got its ecclesiastical proposals duly adopted by the representatives of the various churches interested, its council wrote (april th) to the council and to the ministers of geneva asking them to confer together and arrange that the church of geneva should adopt these usages--the magistrates of bern having evidently no knowledge of the hasty resolution of the genevan council already mentioned. the letter was discussed at a meeting of council (april th, ), and several minutes, all relating to ecclesiastical matters, were passed. it was needless to come to any resolution about the bern usages; they had been adopted already. the letter from bern was to be shown to farel and calvin, and the preachers were to be asked and were to answer, yea or nay, would they at once introduce the bern ceremonies? the preachers said that the usages could not be introduced at once. the third genevan preacher, elie coraut, had spoken disrespectfully of the council in the city, and was forbidden to preach, upon threat of imprisonment, until he had been examined about his words.[ ] lastly, it was resolved that the holy supper should be celebrated at once according to the bern rites; and that if farel and calvin refused, the council was to engage other preachers who would obey their orders.[ ] coraut, the blind preacher, preached as usual (april th). he was at once arrested and imprisoned. in the afternoon, farel and calvin, accompanied by several of the most eminent citizens of geneva, appeared before the council to protest against coraut's imprisonment, and to demand his release--farel speaking with his usual daring vehemence, and reminding the magistrates that but for his work in the city they would not be in the position they occupied. the request was refused, and the council took advantage of the presence of the preachers to ask them whether they would at once introduce the bern usages. they replied that they had no objection to the ceremonies, and would be glad to use them in worship provided they were properly adopted,[ ] but not on a simple order from the council. farel and calvin were then forbidden to preach. next day the two pastors preached as usual--calvin in st. peter's and farel in st. gervaise. the council met to consider this act of disobedience. some were for sending the preachers to prison at once; but it was resolved to summon the _council of the two hundred_ on the morrow (april nd) and the _general council_ on the th. the letters of bern (march th, march th, april th) were read, and the two hundred resolved that they would "live according to the ceremonies of bern." what then was to be done with calvin and farel? were they to be sent to the town's prison? no! better to wait till the council secured other preachers (it had been trying to do so and had failed), and then dismiss them. the general council then met;[ ] resolved to "live according to the ceremonies of bern," and to banish the three preachers from the town, giving them three days to collect their effects.[ ] calvin and farel were sent into exile, and the magistrates made haste to seize the furniture which had been given them when they were settled as preachers. calvin long remembered the threats and dangers of these april days and nights. he was insulted in the streets. bullies threatened to "throw him into the rhone." crowds of the baser sort gathered round his house. they sang ribald and obscene songs under his windows. they fired shots at night, more than fifty one night, before his door--"more than enough to astonish a poor scholar, timid as i am, and as i confess i have always been."[ ] it was the memory of these days that made him loathe the very thought of returning to geneva. the two reformers, calvin and farel, left the town at once, determined to lay their case before the council of bern, and also before the synod of swiss churches which was about to meet at zurich (april th, ). the councillors of bern were both shocked and scandalised at the treatment the preachers had received from the council of geneva, and felt it all the more that their proposal of conformity had served as the occasion. they wrote at once to geneva (april th), begging the council to undo what they had done; to remember that their proposal for uniformity had never been meant to serve as occasion for compulsion in matters which were after all indifferent.[ ] bern might be masterful, but it was almost always courteous. the secular authority might be the motive force in all ecclesiastical matters, but it was to be exercised through the machinery of the church. the authorities of bern had been careful to establish an ecclesiastical court, the consistory, of two pastors and three councillors, who dealt with all ecclesiastical details. it encouraged the meeting of synods all over its territories. its proposals for uniformity had been addressed to both the pastors and the council of geneva, and had spoken of mutual consultation. they had no desire to seem even remotely responsible for the bludgeoning of the genevan ministers. the council of geneva answered with a mixture of servility and veiled insolence[ ] (april th). nothing could be made of them. from bern, farel and calvin went to zurich, and there addressed a memorandum to a synod, which included representatives from zurich, bern, basel, schaffhausen, st. gallen, mühlhausen, biel (bienne), and the two banished ministers from geneva. it was one of those general assemblies which in calvin's eyes represented the church catholic, to which all particular churches owed deference, if not simple obedience. the genevan pastors presented their statement with a proud humility. they were willing to accept the ceremonies of bern, matters in themselves indifferent, but which might be useful in the sense of showing the harmony prevailing among the reformed churches; but they must be received by the church of geneva, and not imposed upon it by the mere fiat of the secular authority. they were quite willing to expound them to the people of geneva and recommend them. but if they were to return to geneva, they must be allowed to defend themselves against their calumniators; and their programme for the organisation of the church of geneva, which had already been accepted but had not been put in practice (january th, ),[ ] must be introduced. it consisted of the following:--the establishment of an ecclesiastical discipline, that the holy supper might not be profaned; the division of the city into parishes, that each minister might be acquainted with his own flock; an increase in the number of ministers for the town; regular ordination of pastors by the laying on of hands; more frequent celebration of the holy supper, according to the practice of the primitive church.[ ] they confessed that perhaps they had been too severe; on this personal matter they were willing to be guided.[ ] they listened with humility to the exhortations of some of the members of the synod, who prayed them to use more gentleness in dealing with an undisciplined people. but on the question of principle and on the rights of the church set over against the state, they were firm. it was probably the first time that the erastians of eastern switzerland had listened to such high church doctrine; but they accepted it and made it their own for the time being at least. the synod decided to write to the council of geneva and ask them to have patience with their preachers and receive them back again; and they asked the deputies from bern to charge themselves with the affair, and do their best to see farel and calvin reinstated in geneva. the deputies of bern accepted the commission, and the geneva pastors went back to bern to await the arrival of the bern deputies from zurich. they waited, full of anxiety, for nearly fourteen days. then the bern council were ready to fulfil the request of the synod.[ ] deputies were appointed, and, accompanied by farel and calvin, set out for geneva. the two pastors waited on the frontier at noyon or at genthod while the deputies of bern went on to geneva. they had an audience of the council (may rd), were told that the council could not revoke what all three councils had voted. the council of the two hundred refused to recall the pastors. the council general (may th) by a unanimous vote repeated the sentence of exile, and forbade the three pastors (farel, calvin, and coraut) to set foot on genevan territory. driven from geneva, calvin would fain have betaken himself to a quiet student life; but he was too well known and too much valued to be left in the obscurity he longed for. strassburg claimed him to minister to the french refugees who had settled within its protecting walls. he was invited to attend the protestant conference at frankfurt; he was present at the union conferences at hagenau, at worms, and at regensburg. there he met the more celebrated german protestant divines, who welcomed him as they had done no one else from switzerland. calvin put himself right with them theologically by signing at once and without solicitation the augsburg confession, and aided thereby the feeling of union among all protestants. he kindled in the breast of melanchthon one of those romantic friendships which the frail frenchman, with the pallid face, black hair, and piercing eyes, seemed to evoke so easily. luther himself appreciated his theology even on his jealously guarded theory of the sacrament of the holy supper. meanwhile things were not going well in geneva. outwardly, there was not much difference. pastors ministered in the churches of the town, and the ordinary and ecclesiastical life went on as usual. the magistrates enforced the _articles_; they condemned the anabaptists, the papists, all infringements of the sumptuary and disciplinary laws of the town. they compelled every householder to go to church. still the old life seemed to be gone. the council and the syndics treated the new pastors as their servants, compelled them to render strict obedience to all their decisions in ecclesiastical matters, and considered religion as a political affair. it is undoubted that the morals of the town became worse,--so bad that the pastors of bern wrote a letter of expostulation to the pastors in geneva,[ ]--and the lord's supper seems to have been neglected. the contests between parties within the city became almost scandalous, and the independent existence of geneva was threatened.[ ] at the elections the syndics failed to secure their re-election. men of more moderate views were chosen, and from this date (feb. ) the idea began to be mooted that geneva must ask calvin to return. private overtures were made to him, but he refused. then came letters from the council, begging him to come back and state his terms. he kept silence. lausanne and neuchâtel joined their entreaties to those of geneva. calvin was not to be persuaded. his private letters reveal his whole mind. he shuddered at returning to the turbulent city. he was not sure that he was fit to take charge of the church in geneva. he was in peace at strassburg, minister to a congregation of his own countrymen; and the pastoral tie once formed was not to be lightly broken; yet there was an undercurrent drawing him to the place where he first began the ministry of the word. at length he wrote to the council of geneva, putting all his difficulties and his longings before them--neither accepting nor refusing. his immediate duty called him to the conference at worms. the people of geneva were not discouraged. on the th october, the _council of the two hundred_ placed on their register a declaration that every means must be taken to secure the services of "maystre johan calvinus," and on the nd a worthy burgher and member of the _council of the two hundred_, louis dufour, was despatched to strassburg with a letter from both the civic councils, begging calvin to return to his "old place" (_prestine plache_), "seeing our people desire you greatly," and promising that they would do what they could to content him.[ ] dufour got to strassburg only to find that calvin had gone to worms. he presented his letters to the council of the town, who sent them on by an express (_eques celeri cursu_)[ ] to calvin (nov. th, ). far from being uplifted at the genuine desire to receive him back again to geneva, calvin was terribly distressed. he took counsel with his friends at worms, and could scarcely place the case before them for his sobs.[ ] the intolerable pain he had at the thought of going back to geneva on the one hand, and the idea that bucer might after all be right when he declared that calvin's duty to the church universal clearly pointed to his return,[ ] overmastered him completely. his friends, respecting his sufferings, advised him to postpone all decision until again in strassburg. others who were not near him kept urging him. farel thundered at him (_consterné par tes foudres_).[ ] the pastors of zurich wrote (april th ): "you know that geneva lies on the confines of france, of italy, and of germany, and that there is great hope that the gospel may spread from it to the neighbouring cities, and thus enlarge the ramparts (_les boulevards_) of the kingdom of christ.--you know that the apostle selected metropolitan cities for his preaching centres, that the gospel might be spread throughout the surrounding towns."[ ] calvin was overcome. he consented to return to geneva, and entered the city still suffering from his repugnance to undertake work he was not at all sure that he was fitted to do. historians speak of a triumphal entry. there may have been, though nothing could have been more distasteful to calvin at any time, and eminently so on this occasion, with the feelings he had. contemporary documents are silent. there is only the minute of the council, as formal as minutes usually are, relating that "maystre johan calvin, ministre evangelique," is again in charge of the church in geneva (sept. th, ).[ ] calvin was in geneva for the second time, dragged there both times unwillingly, his dream of a quiet scholar's life completely shattered. the work that lay before him proved to be almost as hard as he had foreseen it would be. the common idea that from this second entry calvin was master within the city, is quite erroneous. fourteen years were spent in a hard struggle ( - ); and if the remaining nine years of his life can be called his period of triumph over opponents ( - ), it must be remembered that he was never able to see his ideas of an ecclesiastical organisation wholly carried out in the city of his adoption. one must go to the protestant church of france to see calvin's idea completely realised.[ ] on the day of his entry into geneva (sept. th, ) the council resolved that a constitution should be given to the church of the city, and a committee was formed, consisting of calvin, his colleagues in the ministry, and six members of the council, to prepare the draft. the work was completed in twenty days, and ready for presentation. on september th, however, it had been resolved that the draft when prepared should be submitted for revision to the _smaller council_, to the _council of sixty_, and finally to the _council of two hundred_. the old opposition at once manifested itself within these councils. there seem to have been alterations, and at the last moment calvin thought that the constitution would be made worthless for the purpose of discipline and orderly ecclesiastical rule. in the end, however, the drafted ordinances were adopted unanimously by the _council of two hundred_ without serious alteration. the result was the famous _ecclesiastical ordinances of geneva_ in their first form. they did not assume their final form until .[ ] when these _ordinances_ of are compared with the principles of ecclesiastical government laid down in the _institutio_, with the _articles_ of , and with the _ordinances_ of , it can be seen that calvin must have sacrificed a great deal in order to content the magistrates of geneva. he had contended for the self-government of the church, especially in matters of discipline; the principle runs all through the chapters of the fourth book of the _institutio_. the _ordinances_ give a certain show of autonomy, and yet the whole authority really rests with the councils. the discipline was exercised by the _consistory_ or session of elders (_anciens_); but this consistory was chosen by the _smaller council_ on the advice of the ministers, and was to include two members of the _smaller council_, four from the _council of sixty_, and six from the _council of two hundred_, and when they had been chosen they were to be presented to the _council of two hundred_ for approval. when the consistory met, one of the four syndics sat as president, holding his baton, the insignia of his magisterial office, in his hand, which, as the revised _ordinances_ of very truly said, "had more the appearance of civil authority than of spiritual rule." the revised _ordinances_ forbade the president to carry his baton when he presided in the consistory, in order to render obedience to the distinction which is "clearly shown in holy scripture to exist between the magistrate's sword and authority and the superintendence which ought to be in the church"; but the obedience to holy scripture does not seem to have gone further than laying aside the baton for the time. it appears also that the rule of consulting the ministers in the appointments made to the consistory was not unfrequently omitted, and that it was to all intents and purposes simply a committee of the councils, and anything but submissive to the pastors.[ ] the consistory had no power to inflict civil punishments on delinquents. it could only admonish and warn. when it deemed that chastisements were necessary, it had to report to the council, who sentenced. this was also done in order to maintain the separation between the civil and ecclesiastical power; but, in fact, it was a committee of the council that reported to the council, and the distinction was really illusory. this state of matters was quite repugnant to calvin's cherished idea, not only as laid down in the _institution_, but as seen at work in the constitution of the french protestant church, which was mainly his authorship. "the magnificent, noble, and honourable lords" of the council (such was their title) of this small town of , inhabitants deferred in _words_ to the teachings of calvin about the distinction between the civil and the spiritual powers, but in _fact_ they retained the whole power of rule or discipline in their own hands; and we ought to see in the disciplinary powers and punishments of the consistory of geneva, not an exhibition of the working of a church organised on the principles of calvin, but the ordinary procedure of the town council of a mediæval city. their petty punishments and their minute interference with private life are only special instances of what was common to all municipal rule in the sixteenth century. through that century we find a protest against the mediæval intrusion of the ecclesiastical power into the realm of civil authority, with the inevitable reaction which made the ecclesiastical a mere department of national or civic administration. zurich under zwingli, although it is usually taken as the extreme type of this erastian policy, as it came to be called later, went no further than bern, strassburg, or other places. the council of geneva had legal precedent when they insisted that the supreme ecclesiastical power belonged to them. the city had been an ecclesiastical principality, ruled in civil as well as in ecclesiastical things by its bishop, and the council were legally the inheritors of the bishop's authority. this meant, among other things, that the old laws against heresy, unless specially repealed, remained on the statute book, and errors in doctrine were reckoned to be of the nature of treasonable things; and this made heresies, or variations in religious opinion from what the statute book had declared to be the official view of truth, liable to civil pains and penalties. "castellio's doubts as to the canonicity of the song of songs and as to the received interpretation of christ's descent into hades, bolsec's criticism of predestination, gryet's suspected scepticism and possession of infidel books, servetus' rationalism and anti-trinitarian creed, were all opinions judged to be criminal.... the heretic may be a man of irreproachable character; but if heresy be treason against the state,"[ ] he was a criminal, and had to be punished for the crime on the statute book. to say that calvin burnt servetus, as is continually done, is to make one man responsible for a state of things which had lasted in western europe ever since the emperor theodosius declared that all men were out of law who did not accept the nicene creed in the form issued by damasus of rome. on the other hand, to release calvin from his share in that tragedy and crime by denying that he sat among the judges of the heretic, or to allege that servetus was slain because he conspired against the liberties of the city, is equally unreasonable. calvin certainly believed that the execution of the anti-trinitarian was right. the protestants of france and of switzerland in (nov. st) erected what they called a _monument expiatoire_ to the victim of sixteenth century religious persecution, and placed on it an inscription in which they acknowledged their debt to the great reformer, and at the same time condemned his error,--surely the right attitude to assume.[ ] calvin did three things for geneva, all of which went far beyond its walls. he gave its church a trained and tested ministry, its homes an educated people who could give a reason for their faith, and to the whole city an heroic soul which enabled the little town to stand forth as the citadel and city of refuge for the oppressed protestants of europe. the earlier preachers of the reformed faith had been stray scholars, converted priests and monks, pious artisans, and such like. they were for the most part heroic men who did their work nobly. but some of them had no real vocation for the position into which they had thrust themselves. they had been prompted by such ignoble motives as discontent with their condition, the desire to marry or to make legitimate irregular connections,[ ] or dislike to all authority and wholesome restraints. they had brought neither change of heart nor of conduct into their new surroundings, and had become a source of danger and scandal to the small protestant communities. the first part of the _ordinances_ was meant to put an end to such a condition of things, and aimed at giving the reformed church a ministry more efficient than the old priesthood, without claiming any specially priestly character. the ministers were to be men who believed that they were called by the voice of god speaking to the individual soul, and this belief in a divine vocation was to be tested and tried in a threefold way--by a searching examination, by a call from their fellow-men in the church, and by a solemn institution to office. the examination, which is expressly stated to be the most important, was conducted by those who were already in the office of the ministry. it concerned, first, the knowledge which the candidate had of holy scripture, and of his ability to make use of it for the edification of the people; and, second, his walk and conversation in so far as they witnessed to his power to be an example as well as a teacher. the candidate was then presented to the _smaller council_. he was next required to preach before the people, who were invited to say whether his ministrations were likely to be for edification. these three tests passed, he was then to be solemnly set apart by the laying on of the hands of ministers, according to the usage of the ancient church. his examination and testing did not end with his ordination. all the ministers of the city were commanded to meet once a week for the discussion of the scriptures, and at these meetings it was the duty of every one, even the least important, to bring forward any cause of complaint he believed to exist against any of his brethren, whether of doctrine, or of morals, or of inefficient discharge of the duties entrusted to his care. the pastors who worked in the villages were ordered to attend as often as they could, and none of them were permitted to be absent beyond one month. if the meeting of ministers failed to agree on any matter brought before them, they were enjoined to call in the elders to assist them; and a final appeal was always allowed to the signory, or civil authority. the same rigid supervision was extended to the whole people, and in the visitations for this purpose elders were always associated with ministers.[ ] every member of the little republic, surrounded by so many and powerful enemies, was meant to be a soldier trained for spiritual as for temporal warfare. calvin added a spiritual side to the military training which preserved the independence of the little mediæval city republics. he was unwearied in his exertions to make geneva an enlightened town. his educational policy adopted by the councils was stated in a series of famous regulations for the management of the schools and college of the city.[ ] he sought out and presented to the council the most noted scholars he could attract to geneva. mathurin cordier, the ablest preceptor that france had produced in his generation; beza, its most illustrious humanist; castellio and saunier, were all teachers in the city. the fame of its schools attracted almost as many as persecution drove to take refuge within its walls. the religious instruction of the young was carefully attended to. calvin's earlier catechism was revised, and made more suitable for the young; and the children were so well grounded that it became a common saying that a boy of geneva could give an answer for his faith as ably as a "doctor of the sorbonne." but what geneva excelled in was its training for the ministry and other learned professions. men with the passion of learning in their blood came from all lands--from italy, spain, england, scotland, even from russia, and, above all, from france. pastors educated in geneva, taught by the most distinguished scholars of the day, who had gained the art of ruling others in having learned how to command themselves, went forth from its schools to become the ministers of the struggling protestants in the netherlands, in england, in scotland, in the rhine provinces, and, above all, in france. they were wise, indefatigable, fearless, ready to give their lives for their work, extorting praise from unwilling mouths, as modest, saintly, "with the name of jesus ever on their lips" and his spirit in their hearts. what they did for france and other countries must be told elsewhere. the once disorderly city, a prey to its own internal factions, became the citadel of the reformation, defying the threats of romanist france and savoy, and opening its gates to the persecuted of all lands. it continued to be so for generations, and the victims of the _dragonnades_ of louis xiv. received the welcome and protection accorded to the sufferers under the valois in the sixteenth century. what it did for them may be best told in the words of a refugee: "on the next day, a sunday, we reached a small village on a hill about a league from geneva, from which we could see that city with a joy which could only be compared to the gladness with which the israelites beheld the land of canaan. it was midday when we reached the village, and so great was our eagerness to be as soon as possible within the city which we looked on as our jerusalem, that we did not wish to stay even for food. but our conductor informed us that on the sunday the gates of geneva were never opened until after divine service, that is, until after four o'clock. we had therefore to remain in the village until about that hour, when we mounted our horses again. when we drew near to the town we saw a large number of people coming out. our guide was surprised, and the more so when, arriving at the plain-palais, a quarter of a league from the town, we saw coming to meet us, three carriages escorted by halberdiers and followed by an immense crowd of people of both sexes and of every age. as soon as we were seen, a servant of the magistracy approached us and prayed us to dismount to salute respectfully 'their excellencies of geneva,' who had come to meet us and to bid us welcome. we obeyed. the three carriages having drawn near, there alighted from each a magistrate and a minister, who embraced us with tears of joy and with praises of our constancy and endurance far greater than we merited.... their excellencies then permitted the people to approach, and there followed a spectacle more touching than imagination could picture. several of the inhabitants of geneva had relatives suffering in the french galleys (from which we had been delivered), and these good people did not know whether any of them might be among our company. so one heard a confused noise, 'my son so and so, my husband, my brother, are you there?' one can imagine what embracings welcomed any of our troop who could answer. all this crowd of people threw itself on our necks with inexpressible transports of joy, praising and magnifying the lord for the manifestation of his grace in our favour; and when their excellencies asked us to get on horseback again to enter the city, we were scarcely able to obey, so impossible did it seem to detach ourselves from the arms of these pious and zealous brethren, who seemed afraid to lose sight of us. at last we remounted and followed their excellencies, who conducted us into the city as in triumph. a magnificent building had been erected in geneva to lodge citizens who had fallen into poverty. it had just been finished and furnished, and no one had yet lived in it. their excellencies thought it could have no better dedication than to serve as our habitation. they conducted us there, and we were soon on foot in a spacious court. the crowd of people rushed in after us. those who had found relatives in our company begged their excellencies to permit them to take them to their houses--a request willingly granted. m. bosquet, one of us, had a mother and two sisters in geneva, and they had come to claim him. as he was my intimate friend, he begged their excellencies to permit him to take me along with him, and they willingly granted his request. fired by this example, all the burghers, men and women, asked their excellencies to allow them the same favour of lodging these dear brethren in their own houses. their excellencies having permitted some to do this, a holy jealousy took possession of the others, who lamented and bewailed themselves, saying that they could not be looked on as good and loyal citizens if they were refused the same favour; so their excellencies had to give way, and not one of us was left in the maison française, for so they had called the magnificent building."[ ] the narrative is that of a protestant condemned to the galleys under louis xiv.; but it may serve as a picture of how geneva acted in the sixteenth century when the small city of , souls received and protected nearly refugees driven from many different lands for their religion. chapter iv. the reformation in france.[ ] § . _marguerite d'angoulême and the "group of meaux."_ perhaps no one so thoroughly represents the sentiments which inspired the beginnings of the movement for reformation in france as marguerite d'angoulême,[ ] the sister of king francis i. a study of her letters and of her writings--the latter being for the most part in verse--is almost essential for a true knowledge of the aspirations of the noblest minds of her generation. not that she possessed creative energy or was herself a thinker of any originality, but her soul, like some clear sensitive mirror, received and reflected the most tremulous throb of the intellectual and religious movements around her. she had, like many ladies of that age, devoted herself to the new learning. she had mastered latin, italian, and spanish in her girlhood, and later she acquired greek and even hebrew, in order to study the scriptures in their original tongues. in her the french renaissance of the end of the fifteenth was prolonged throughout the first half of the sixteenth century. she was all sentiment and affection, full of that gentle courage which soft feminine enthusiasm gives, and to her brother and more masculine mother (louise of savoy)[ ] she was a being to be protected against the consequences of her own tender daring. contemporary writers of all parties, save the more bitter defenders of the prevalent scholastic theology, have something good to say about the pure, bright, ecstatic queen of navarre. one calls her the "violet in the royal garden," and says that she unconsciously gathered around her all the better spirits in france, as the wild thyme attracts the bees. marsiglio ficino had taught her to drink from the well of christian platonism;[ ] and this mysticism, which had little to do with dogma, which allied itself naturally with the poetical sides of philosophy and morals which suggested great if indefinite thoughts about god,--_le tout_, _le seul nécessaire_, _la seule bonté_,--the human soul and the intimate union between the two, was perhaps the abiding part of her ever-enlarging religious experience. nicholas of cusa, who tried to combine the old scholastic with the new thoughts of the renaissance, taught her much which she never unlearnt. she studied the holy scriptures carefully for herself, and was never weary of discussing with others the meaning of passages which seemed to be difficult. she listened eagerly to the preaching of lefèvre and roussel, and carried on a long private correspondence with briçonnet, being passionately desirous, she said, to learn "the way of salvation."[ ] both luther and calvin made a strong impression upon her, but their schemes of theology never attracted nor subjugated her intelligence. her sympathies were drawn forth by their disdain of scholastic theology, by their denial of the supernatural powers of the priesthood, by their proclamation of the power and of the love of god, and by their conception that faith unites man with god--by all in their teaching which would assimilate with the christian mysticism to which she had given herself with all her soul. when her religious poems are studied, it will be found that she dwells on the infinite power of god, the mystical absorption of the human life within the divine, and praises passionately self-sacrifice and disdain of all earthly pleasures. she extols the lord as the one and only saviour and intercessor. she contrasts, as luther was accustomed to do, the law which searches, tries, and punishes, with the gospel which pardons the sinner for the sake of christ and of the work which he finished on the cross. she looks forward with eager hope to a world redeemed and regenerated through the evangel of jesus christ. she insists on justification by faith, on the impossibility of salvation by works, on predestination in the sense of absolute dependence on god in the last resort. works are good, but no one is saved by works; salvation comes by grace, and "is the gift of the most high god." she calls the virgin the most blessed among women, because she had been chosen to be the mother of the "sovereign saviour," but refused her any higher place; and in her devotions she introduced an invocation of our lord instead of the _salve regina_. this way of thinking about the blessed virgin, combined with her indifference to the saints and to the mass, and her undisguised contempt for the more superstitious ecclesiastical ceremonies, were the chief reasons for the strong attacks made on marguerite by the faculty of theology (the sorbonne) of paris. she cannot be called a protestant, but she had broken completely with mediæval modes of religious life and thought. marguerite's letters contain such graphic glimpses, that it is possible to see her daily life, whether at bourges, where she held her court as the duchess of alençon, or at nérac, where she dwelt as the queen of navarre. every hour was occupied, and was lived in the midst of company. her _contes_ and her poetry were for the most part written in her litter when she was travelling from one place to another. her "household" was large even for the times. no less than one hundred and two persons--ladies, secretaries, almoners, physicians, etc.--made her court; and frequently many visitors also were present. the whole "household," with the visitors, met together every forenoon in one of the halls of the palace, a room "well-paved and hung with tapestry," and there the princess commonly proposed some text of scripture for discussion. it was generally a passage which seemed obscure to marguerite; for example, "the meek shall inherit the earth." all were invited to make suggestions about its meaning. the hostess was learned, and no one scrupled to quote the scriptures in their original languages, or to adduce the opinions of such earlier fathers as augustine, jerome, chrysostom, or the gregories. if it surprises us to find one or other of the twenty _valets de chambre_, who were not menials and were privileged to be present, familiar with theology, and able to quote greek and even hebrew, it must not be forgotten that marguerite's _valets de chambre_ included distinguished humanists and reformers, to whom she extended the protective privilege of being enrolled in her "household." when the weather permitted, the whole company went for a stroll in the park after the discussion, and then seated themselves near a "pleasant fountain" on the turf, "so soft and delicate that they needed neither carpet nor cushions."[ ] there one of the ladies-in-waiting (thirty _dames_ or _demoiselles_ belonged to the "household") read aloud a tale from the _heptameron_, not forgetting the improving conversation which concludes each story. this gave rise to an animated talk, after which they returned to the palace. in the evening the "household" assembled again in a hall, fitted as a simple theatre, to witness one of the comedies or pastorals which the queen delighted to write, and in which, through a medium as strange as the _contes_, she inculcated her mystical christianity, and gave expression to her longings for a reformation in the church and society. her court was the precursor of the _salons_ which in a later age exercised such a powerful influence on french political, literary, and social life. marguerite is chiefly remembered as the author of the _heptameron_, which modern sentiment cannot help regarding as a collection of scandalous, not to say licentious, tales. the incongruity, as it appears to us, of making such tales the vehicle of moral and even of evangelical instruction, causes us frequently to forget the conversations which follow the stories--conversations which generally inculcate moral truths, and sometimes wander round the evangelical thought that man's salvation and all the fruits of holy living rest on the finished work of christ, the only saviour. "_voilà, mesdames, comme la foy du bon comte ne fut vaincue par signes ne par miracles extérieurs, sachant très bien que nous n'avons qu'un sauveur, lequel en disant consummatum est, a monstré qu'il ne laissoit point à un autre successeur pour faire notre salut._"[ ] so different was the sentiment of the sixteenth from that of the twentieth century, that jeanne d'albret, puritan as she undoubtedly was, took pains that a scrupulously exact edition of her mother's _contes_ should be printed and published, for all to read and profit by. the reformers with whom marguerite was chiefly associated were called the "group of meaux." guillaume briçonnet,[ ] bishop of meaux, who earnestly desired reform but dreaded revolution, had gathered round him a band of scholars whose idea was a reformation of the church by the church, in the church, and with the church. they were the heirs of the aspirations of the great conciliar leaders of the fifteenth century, such as gerson, deeply religious men, who longed for a genuine revival of faith and love. they hoped to reconcile the great truths of christian dogma with the new learning, and at once to enlarge the sphere of christian intelligence, and to impregnate humanism with christian morality. the man who inspired the movement and defined its aims--"to preach christ from the sources"--was jacques lefèvre d'Étaples (stapulensis).[ ] he had been a distinguished humanist, and in had resolved to consecrate his learning to a study of the holy scriptures. the first fruit of this resolve was a new latin translation of the epistles of st. paul ( ), in which a revised version of the vulgate was published along with the traditional text. in his notes he anticipated two of luther's ideas--that works have no merit apart from the grace of god, and that while there is a real presence of christ in the sacrament of the supper, there is no transubstantiation. the reformers of meaux believed that the holy scriptures should be in the hands of the christian people, and lefèvre took jean de rély's version of the bible,--itself a revision of an old thirteenth century french translation,--revised it, published the gospels in june , and the whole of the new testament before the end of the year. the old testament followed in . the book was eagerly welcomed by marguerite, and became widely known and read throughout france. the princess was able to write to briçonnet that her brother and mother were interested in the spread of the holy scriptures, and in the hope of a reform of the church.[ ] neither lefèvre nor briçonnet was the man to lead a reformation. the bishop was timid, and feared the "tumult"; and lefèvre, like marguerite, was a christian mystic,[ ] with all the mystic's dislike to change in outward and fixed institutions. more radical ideas were entering france from without. the name of luther was known as early as , and by , contemporary letters tell us that his books were selling by the hundred, and that all thinking men were studying his opinions.[ ] the ideas of zwingli were also known, and appeared more acceptable to the advanced thinkers in france. some members of the group of meaux began to reconsider their position. the pope's bull excommunicating luther in , the result of the diet of worms in , and the declaration of the faculty of theology of the university of paris (the sorbonne) against the opinions of luther, and their vindication of the authority of aristotle and scholastic theology made it apparent that even modest reforms would not be tolerated by the church as it then existed. the _parlement_ of paris (august ) ordered luther's books to be given up.[ ] lefèvre did not falter. he remained what he had been--a man on the threshold of a new era who refused to enter it. one of his fellow-preachers retracted his opinions, and began to write against his leader. the young and fiery guillaume farel boldly adopted the views of the swiss reformers. briçonnet temporised. he forbade the preaching of lutheran doctrine within his diocese, and the circulation of the reformer's writings; but he continued to protect lefèvre, and remained true to his teaching.[ ] the energetic action of the sorbonne and of the _parlement_ of paris showed the obstacles which lay in the path of a peaceful reformation. the library of louis de berquin was seized and condemned (june th, ), and several of his books burnt in front of notre dame by the order of _parlement_ (august th). berquin himself was saved by the interposition of the king.[ ] in march , jean leclerc, a wool-carder, was whipt and branded in paris; and six months later was burnt at metz for alleged outrages on objects of reverence. the government had to come to some decision about the religious question. marguerite could write that her mother and her brother were "more than ever well disposed towards the reformation of the church";[ ] but neither of them had her strong religious sentiment, and policy rather than conviction invariably swayed their action. the reformation promoted by lefèvre and believed in by marguerite was at once too moderate and too exacting for francis i. it could never be a basis for an alliance with the growing protestantism of germany, and it demanded a purity of individual life ill-suited either with the personal habits of the king or with the manners of the french court. it is therefore not to be wondered that the policy of the government of francis i. wavered between a negligent protection and a stern repression of the french reformers. § . _attempts to repress the movement for reform._ the years - were full of troubles for france. the italian war had been unsuccessful. provence had been invaded. francis i. had been totally defeated and taken prisoner at pavia. dangers of various kinds within france had also confronted the government. bands of marauders--_les aventuriers_[ ]--had pillaged numerous districts; and so many conflagrations had taken place that people believed they were caused by emissaries of the public enemies of france. louise of savoy, the queen-mother, and regent during her son's captivity in madrid, had found it necessary to conciliate the formidable powers of the _parlement_ of paris and of the sorbonne. measures were taken to suppress the printing of lutheran and heretical books, and the _parlement_ appointed a commission to discover, try, and punish heretics. the result was a somewhat ineffective persecution.[ ] the preachers of meaux had to take refuge in strassburg, and lefèvre's translation of the scriptures was publicly burnt. when the king returned from his imprisonment at madrid (march ), he seemed to take the side of the reformers. the meaux preachers came back to france, and lefèvre himself was made the tutor to the king's youngest son. in - the great french council of sens met to consider the state of the church. it reaffirmed most of the mediæval positions, and, in opposition to the teachings of protestants, declared the unity, infallibility, and visibility of the church, the authority of councils, the right of the church to make canonical regulations, fasts, the celibacy of priests, the seven sacraments, the mass, purgatory, the veneration of saints, the worship of images, and the scholastic doctrines of free will and faith and works. it called on civil rulers to execute the censures of the church on heretics and schismatics. it also published a series of reforms necessary--most of which were already contained in the canon law. while the council was sitting, the romanists of france were startled with the news that a statue of the blessed virgin had been beheaded and otherwise mutilated. it was the first manifestation of the revolutionary spirit of the reformation in france. the king was furious. he caused a new statue to be made in silver, and gave his sanction to the renewal of the persecutions (may st, ). four years later his policy altered. he desired alliances with the english and german protestants; one of the reformers of meaux preached in the louvre during lent ( ), and some doctors of the sorbonne, who accused the king and queen of navarre of heresy, were banished from paris. in spite of the ferment caused by the evangelical address of nicolas cop, and the flight of cop and of calvin, the real author of the address, the king still seemed to favour reform. evangelical sermons were again preached in the louvre, and the king spoke of a conference on the state of religion within france. the affair of the _placards_ caused another storm. on the morning of oct. th, , the citizens of paris found that broadsides or _placards_, attacking in very strong language the ceremony of the mass, had been affixed to the walls of the principal streets. these _placards_ affirmed that the sacrifice of christ upon the cross was perfect and unique, and therefore could never be repeated; that it was sheer idolatry to say that the corporeal presence of christ was enclosed within the wafer, "a man of twenty or thirty years in a morsel of paste"; that transubstantiation was a gross error; that the mass had been perverted from its true meaning, which is to be a memorial of the sacrifice and death of our lord; and that the solemn ceremony had become a time "of bell-ringings, shoutings, singing, waving of lamps and swinging of incense pots, after the fashion of sorcerers." the violence of language was extreme. "the pope and all his vermin of cardinals, of bishops, of priests, of monks and other hypocrites, sayers of the mass, and all those who consent thereto," were liars and blasphemers. the author of this broadside was a certain antoine marcourt, who had fled from france and taken refuge in neuchâtel. the audacity of the men who had posted the _placards_ in paris and in other towns,--orléans, blois, amboise,--and had even fixed one on the door of the king's bedchamber, helped to rouse the romanists to frenzy. the _parlement_ and the university demanded loudly that extreme measures should be taken to crush the heretics;[ ] and everywhere expiatory processions were formed to protest against the sacrilege. the king himself and the great nobles of the court took part in one in january,[ ] and during that month more than thirty-five lutherans were arrested, tried, and burnt. several well-known frenchmen (seventy-three at least), among them clement marot and mathurin cordier, fled the country, and their possessions were confiscated. after this outburst of persecution the king's policy again changed. he was once more anxious for an alliance with the protestants of germany. an amnesty was proclaimed for all save the "sacramentarians," _i.e._ the followers of zwingli. a few of the exiled frenchmen returned, among them clement marot. the chancellor of france, antoine du bourg, went the length of inviting the german theologians to come to france for the purpose of sharing in a religious conference, and adhered to his proposal in spite of the protests of the sorbonne. but nothing came of it. the german protestant theologians refused to risk themselves on french soil; and the exiled frenchmen mistrusted the king and his chancellor. the amnesty, however, deserves remark, because it called forth the letter of calvin to francis i. which forms the "dedication" or preface to his _christian institution_. the work of repression was resumed with increased severity. royal edicts and mandates urging the extirpation of heresy followed each other in rapid succession--edict to the _parlement_ of toulouse (dec. th, ), to the _parlements_ of toulouse, bordeaux, and rouen (june th, ); a general edict issued from fontainebleau (june st, ); an edict to the _parlement_ of toulouse (aug. th, ); _mandats_ to the _parlements_ of paris, bordeaux, dijon, grenoble, and rouen (aug. th, ). the general edict of fontainebleau was one of exceptional severity. it was intended to introduce a more summary procedure in heresy trials, and enjoined officials to proceed against all persons tainted with heresy, even against ecclesiastics or those who had the "benefit of clergy"; the right of appeal was denied to those suspected; negligent judges were threatened with the king's displeasure; and the ecclesiastical courts were urged to show greater zeal, and to take advantage of the powers given to the civil courts. "every loyal subject," the edict said, "must denounce heretics, and employ all means to root them out, just as all men are bound to run to help to extinguish a public conflagration." this edict, slightly modified by the _parlement_ of paris (july ) by enlarging the powers of the ecclesiastical courts, remained in force in france for the nine following years. yet in spite of its thoroughness, succeeding edicts and _mandats_ declare that heresy was making rapid progress in france. the sorbonne and the _parlements_ (especially those of paris and aix) urged on the persecution of the "lutherans." the former drafted a series of twenty-five articles (a refutation of the edition of calvin's _institution_), which were meant to assert concisely the dogma of the church, and to deny whatever the reformers taught prejudicial to the doctrines and practices of the mediæval church. these articles were approved by the king and his privy council, who ordered them to be published throughout the whole kingdom, and gave instructions to deal with all who preached or taught anything contrary or repugnant to them. this ordinance was at once registered by the _parlement_ of paris. thus all the powers of the realm committed themselves to a struggle to extirpate the reformed teaching, and were armed with a test which was at once clear and comprehensive. not content with this, the sorbonne began a list of prohibited books ( - )--a list containing the works of calvin, luther, melanchthon, clement marot, and the translations of scripture edited by robert estienne, and the _parlement_ issued a severe ordinance against all protestant propaganda by means of printing or the selling of books (july ). these various ordinances for the extirpation of heresy were applied promptly and rigorously, and the fires of persecution were soon kindled all over france. the _place_ maubert was the scene of the martyrdoms in paris. there were no great _auto-da-fés_, but continual mention is made of burning two or three martyrs at once. two acts of persecution cast a dark stain on the last years of francis i.--the slaughter of the waldenses of the durance in , and the martyrdom of the "fourteen of meaux." a portion of provence, skirting the durance where that river is about to flow into the rhone, had been almost depopulated in the fourteenth century, and the landowners had invited peasants from the alps to settle within their territories. the incomers were waldenses; their religion was guaranteed protection, and their industry and thrift soon covered the desolate region with fertile farms. when the reformation movement had established itself in germany and switzerland, these villagers were greatly interested. they drew up a brief statement of what they believed, and sent it to the leading reformers, accompanied by a number of questions on matters of religion. they received long answers from bucer and from oecolampadius, and, having met in conference (sept. ) at angrogne in piedmont, they drafted a simple confession of faith based on the replies of the reformers to their questions. it was natural that they should view the progress of the reformation within france with interest, and that they should contribute crowns to defray the expense of printing a new translation of the scriptures into french by robert olivétan. freedom to practise their religion had been granted for two centuries to the inhabitants of the thirty waldensian villages, and they conceived that in exhibiting their sympathy with french protestantism they were acting within their ancient rights. jean de roma, inquisitor for provence, thought otherwise. in he began to exhort the villagers to abjure their opinions; and, finding his entreaties without effect, he set on foot a severe persecution. the waldenses appealed to the king, who sent a commission to inquire into the matter, with the result that jean de roma was compelled to flee the country. the persecution was renewed in by the archbishop and _parlement_ of aix, who cited seventeen of the people of merindol, one of the villages, before them on a charge of heresy. when they failed to appear, the _parlement_ published (nov. th, ) the celebrated _arrêt de merindol_, which sentenced the seventeen to be burnt at the stake. the waldenses again appealed to the king, who pardoned the seventeen on the condition that they should abjure their heresy within three months (feb. th, ). there was a second appeal to the king, who again protected the waldenses; but during the later months of the _parlement_ of aix sent to his majesty the false information that the people of merindol were in open insurrection, and were threatening to sack the town of marseilles. upon this, francis, urged thereto by cardinal de tournon, recalled his protection, and ordered all the waldenses to be exterminated (jan. st, ). an army was stealthily organised, and during seven weeks of slaughter, amid all the accompaniments of treachery and brutality, twenty-two of the thirty waldensian villages were utterly destroyed, between three and four thousand men and women were slain, and seven hundred men sent to the galleys. those who escaped took refuge in switzerland.[ ] the persecution at meaux ( ) was more limited in extent, but was accompanied by such tortures that it formed a fitting introduction to the severities of the reign of henri ii. the reformed at meaux had organised themselves into a congregation modelled on that of the french refugees in strassburg. they had chosen pierre leclerc to be their pastor, and one of their number, Étienne mangin, gave his house for the meetings of the congregation. the authorities heard of the meetings, and on sept th, , a sudden visit was made to the house, and sixty-one persons were arrested and brought before the _parlement_ of paris. their special crime was that they had engaged in the celebration of the lord's supper. the sentence of the court declared that the bishop of meaux had shown culpable negligence in permitting such meetings; that the evidence indicated that there were numbers of "lutherans" and heretics in meaux besides those brought before it, and that all such were to be sought out; that all books in the town which concerned the christian religion were to be deposited in the record-office within eight days; that special sermons were to be delivered and expiatory processions organised; and that the house of Étienne mangin was to be razed to the ground, and a chapel in honour of the holy sacrament erected on the site. it condemned fourteen of the accused to be burnt alive, after having suffered the severest tortures which the law permitted; five to be hung up by the armpits to witness the execution, and then to be scourged and imprisoned; others to witness the execution with cords round their necks and with their heads bare, to ask pardon for their crime, to take part in an expiatory procession, and to listen to a sermon on the adoration due to the body of christ present in the holy sacrament. a few, mostly women, were acquitted.[ ] francis i. died in march . the persistent persecution which had marked the later years of his reign had done little or nothing to quench the growing protestantism of france. it had only succeeded in driving it beneath the surface. henry ii. never indulged in the vacillating policy of his father. from the beginning of his reign he set himself resolutely to combat the reformation. his favourite councillors--his all-powerful mistress, diane of poitiers; his chief minister, the constable montmorency, in high repute for his skill in the arts of war and of government; the guises, a great family, originally belonging to lorraine, who had risen to power in france--were all strong supporters of the roman catholic religion, and resolute to destroy the growing protestantism of france. the declared policy of the king was to slay the reformation by attacking it through every form of legal suppression that could be devised. § . _change in the character of the movement for reform._ the task was harder than it had been during the reign of francis. in spite of the persecutions, the adherents of the new faith had gone on increasing in a wonderful way. many of the priests and monks had been converted to evangelical doctrines. they taught them secretly and openly; and they could expose in a telling way the corruptions of the church, having known them from the inside. schoolmasters, if one may judge from the _arréts_ of the _parlements_, were continually blamed for dissuading their pupils from going to mass, and for corrupting the youth by instructing them in the "false and pernicious doctrines of geneva." many colleges were named as seed-beds of the reformation--angers, bourges, fontenay, la rochelle, loudun, niort, nimes, and poitiers. the theatre itself became an agent for reform when the corruptions of the church and the morals of the clergy were attacked in popular plays. the refugees in strassburg, geneva, and lausanne spared no pains to send the evangelical doctrines to their countrymen. ardent young frenchmen, trained abroad, took their lives in their hand, and crept quietly through the length and breadth of france. they met converts and inquirers in solitary suburbs, in cellars of houses, on highways, and by the rivers. the records of the ecclesiastical police enable us to trace the spread of the reformation along the great roads and waterways of france. the missioners changed their names frequently to elude observation. some, with a daring beyond their fellows, did not hesitate to visit the towns and preach almost openly to the people. the propaganda carried on by colporteurs was scarcely less successful. these were usually young men trained at geneva or strassburg. they carried their books in a pack on their backs, and hawked them in village and town, describing their contents, and making little sermons for the listeners. among the notices of seizures we find such titles as the following:--_les colloques_ of erasmus, _la fontaine de vie_ (a selection of scriptural passages translated into french), the _livre de vraye et parfaicte oraison_ (a translation of extracts from luther's writings), the _cinquante-deux psaumes_, the _catéchisme de genève, prières ecclésiastiques avec la manière d'administrer les sacrements_, an _alphabet chrétien_ and an _instruction chrétienne pour les petits enfants_. no edicts against printing books which had not been submitted to the ecclesiastical authorities were able to put an end to this secret colportage. in these several ways the evangelical faith was spread abroad, and before the death of francis there was not a district in france with the single exception of brittany which had not its secret protestants, while many parts of the country swarmed with them. § . _calvin and his influence in france._ the reformation in france had been rapidly changing its character since , the year in which lefèvre died, and in which calvin's _christian institution_ was published. it was no longer a christian mysticism supplemented by a careful study of the scriptures; it had advanced beyond the stage of individual followers of luther or zwingli; it had become united, presenting a solid phalanx to its foes; it had rallied round a manifesto which was at once a completed scheme of doctrine, a prescribed mode of worship, and a code of morals; it had found a leader who was both a master and a commander-in-chief. the publication of the _christian institution_ had effected this. the young man whom the town council of geneva could speak of as "a certain frenchman" (_gallus quidam_) soon took a foremost place among the leaders of the whole reformation movement, and moulded in his plastic hands the reformation in france. calvin's early life and his work in geneva have already been described; but his special influence on france must not pass unnoticed.[ ] he had an extraordinary power over his co-religionists in his native land.[ ] he was a frenchman--one of themselves; no foreigner speaking an unfamiliar tongue; no enemy of the fatherland to follow whom might seem to be unpatriotic. it is true that his fixed abode lay beyond the confines of france; but distance, which gave him freedom of action, made him the more esteemed. he was the apostle who wrote "to all that be in france, beloved of god, called to be saints." while still a student, calvin had shown that he possessed, besides a marvellous memory, an acute and penetrating intellect, with a great faculty for assimilating ideas and modes of thought; but he lacked what may be called artistic imagination,[ ] and neither poetry nor art seemed to strike any responsive chord in his soul. his conduct was always straightforward, irreproachable, and dignified; he was by education and breeding, if not by descent, the polished french gentleman, and was most at home with men and women of noble birth. his character was serious, with little playfulness, little vivacity, but with a wonderful power of sympathy. he was reserved, somewhat shy, slow to make intimate friends, but once made the friendships lasted for life. at all periods of age, boy, student, man of letters, leader of a great party, he seems to have been a centre of attraction and of deferential trust. the effect of this mysterious charm was felt by others besides those of his own age. his professor, mathurin cordier, became his devoted disciple. melanchthon wished that he might die with his head on calvin's breast. luther, in spite of his suspicion of everything that came from switzerland, was won to love and trust him. and knox, the most rugged and independent of men, acknowledged calvin as his master, consulted him in every doubt and difficulty, and on all occasions save one meekly followed his counsels. he loved children, and had them at his house for christmas trees; but (and this is characteristically french) always addressed them with ceremonious politeness, as if they were grown men and women deserving as much consideration as himself. it was this trait that captivated de bèze when he was a boy of twelve. calvin was a democrat intellectually and by silent principle. this appears almost everywhere in his private writings, and was noted by such a keen observer as tavannes. it was never more unconsciously displayed than in the preface or dedication of the _christian institution_. "this preface, instead of pleading with the king on behalf of the reformation, places the movement right before him, and makes him see it. its tone throughout firm and dignified, calm and stately when calvin addresses francis i. directly, more bitter and sarcastic when he is speaking of theologians, _la pensée et la forme du style toutes vibrantes du ton biblique_, the very simplicity and perfect frankness of the address, give the impression of one who is speaking on equal terms with his peer. all suggest the christian democrat without a trace of the revolutionary."[ ] the source of his power--logic impregnated by the passion of conviction--is so peculiarly french that perhaps only his countrymen can fully understand and appreciate it, and they have not been slow to do so. all these characteristic traits appealed to them. his passion for equality, as strong as the apostle paul's, compelled him to take his followers into his confidence, to make them apprehend what he knew to the innermost thoughts of his heart. it forced him to exhibit the reasons for his faith to all who cared to know them, to arrange them in a logical order which would appeal to their understanding, and his passion of conviction assured him and them that what he taught was the very truth of god. then he was a very great writer,[ ] one of the founders of modern french prose, the most exquisite literary medium that exists, a man made to arrest the attention of the people. he wrote all his important works in french for his countrymen, as well as in latin for the learned world. his language and style were fresh, clear, and simple; without affected elegance or pedantic display of erudition; full of vigour and verve; here, caustic wit which attracted; there, eloquence which spoke to the hearts of his readers because it throbbed with burning passion and strong emotion. it is unlikely that all his disciples in france appreciated his doctrinal system in its details. the _christian institution_ appealed to them as the strongest protest yet made against the abuses and scandals of the roman church, as containing a code of duties owed to god and man, as exhibiting an ideal of life pure and lofty, as promising everlasting blessedness for the called and chosen and faithful. "it satisfied at one and the same time the intellects which demanded logical proof and the souls which had need of enthusiasm." it has been remarked that calvin's theology was less original and effective than his legislation or policy.[ ] the statement seems to overlook the peculiar service which was rendered to the reformation movement by the _institution_. the reformation was a rebellion against the external authority of the mediæval church; but every revolt, even that against the most flagrant abuses and the most corrupt rule, carries in it seeds of evil which must be slain if any real progress is to be made. for it instinctively tends to sweep away all restraints--those that are good and necessary as well as those that are bad and harmful. the leaders of every movement for reform have a harder battle to fight against the revolutionaries in their following than against their avowed opponents. at the root of the reformation of the sixteenth century lay an appeal from man to god--from the priest, granting or withholding absolution in the confessional, to god making the sinner, who turns from his sins and has faith in the person and work of christ, know in his heart that he is pardoned; from the decision of popes and councils to the decrees of god revealed in his holy word. this appeal was in the nature of the case from the seen to the unseen, and therein lay the difficulty; for unless this unseen could be made visible to the eye of the intelligence to such a degree that the restraining authority which it possessed could impress itself on the will, there was risk of its proving to be no restraining authority whatsoever, and of men fancying that they had been left to be a law unto themselves. what the _christian institution_ did for the sixteenth century was to make the unseen government and authority of god, to which all must bow, as visible to the intellectual eye of faith as the mechanism of the mediæval church had been to the eye of sense. it proclaimed that the basis of all christian faith was the word of god revealed in the holy scriptures; it taught the absolute dependence of all things on god himself immediately and directly; it declared that the sin of man was such that, apart from the working of the free grace of god, there could be neither pardon nor amendment, nor salvation; and it wove all these thoughts into a logical unity which revealed to the intellectual eye of its generation the "house of god not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." men as they gazed saw that they were in the immediate presence of the authority of god himself, directly responsible to him; that they could test "the pope's house" by this divine archetype; that it was their duty to reform all human institutions, ecclesiastical or political, in order to bring them into harmony with the divine vision. it made men know that to separate themselves from the visible mediæval church was neither to step outside the sphere of the purpose of god making for their redemption, nor to free themselves from the duties which god requires of man. the work which calvin did for his co-religionists in france was immense. he carried on a constant correspondence with them; he sustained their courage; he gave their faith a sublime exaltation. when he heard of a french romanist who had begun to hesitate, he wrote to him combining persuasion with instruction. he pleaded the cause of the reformation with its nominal supporters. he encouraged the weak. he sent letters to the persecuted. he forwarded short theological treatises to assist those who had got into controversies concerning their faith. he advised the organisation of congregations. he recommended energetic pastors. he warned slothful ministers. "we must not think," he says, "that our work is confined within such narrow limits that our task is ended when we have preached sermons ... it is our part to maintain a vigilant oversight of those committed to our care, and take the greatest pains to guard from evil those whose blood will one day be demanded from us if they are lost through our negligence."[ ] he answered question after question about the difficulty of reconciling the demands of the christian life with what was required by the world around--a matter which pressed hard on the consciences of men and women who belonged to a religious minority in a great roman catholic kingdom. he was no casuist. he wrote to madame de cany, the sister of the duchess d'Étampes, that "no one, great or small, ought to believe themselves exempt from suffering for the sake of our sovereign king." he was listened to with reverence; for he was not a counsellor who advised others to do what he was not prepared to do himself. he could say, "be ye followers of me, as i am of the lord jesus christ." frenchmen and frenchwomen knew that the master whom they obeyed, the director they consulted, to whom they whispered the secrets of their souls, lived the hardest and most ascetic life of any man in europe,--scarcely eating, drinking, or sleeping; that his frail body was kept alive by the energy of his indomitable soul. frenchmen of varying schools of thought have not been slow to recognise the secret of the power of their great countryman. jules michelet says: "among the martyrs, with whom calvin constantly conversed in spirit, he became a martyr himself; he lived and felt like a man before whom the whole earth disappears, and who tunes his last psalm his whole eye fixed upon the eye of god, because he knows that on the following morning he may have to ascend the pyre." ernest renan is no less emphatic: "it is surprising that a man who appears to us in his life and writings so unsympathetic should have been the centre of an immense movement in his generation, and that this harsh and severe tone should have exercised so great an influence on the minds of his contemporaries. how was it, for example, that one of the most distinguished women of her time, renée of france, in her court at ferrara, surrounded by the flower of european wits, was captivated by that stern master, and by him drawn into a course that must have been so thickly strewn with thorns? this kind of austere seduction is exercised only by those who work with real conviction. lacking that vivid, deep, sympathetic ardour which was one of the secrets of luther's success, lacking the charm, the perilous, languishing tenderness of francis de sales, calvin succeeded, in an age and in a country which called for a reaction towards christianity, simply because _he was the most christian man of his generation_." thus it was that all those in france who felt the need of intimate fellowship with god, all to whom a religion, which was at once inflexible in matters of moral living and which appealed to their reasoning faculties, was a necessity, hailed the _christian institution_ as the clearest manifesto of their faith, and grouped themselves round the young author (calvin was barely twenty-six when he wrote it) as their leader. those also who suffered under the pressure of a despotic government, and felt the evils of a society constituted to uphold the privileges of an aristocracy, learnt that in a neighbouring country there was a city which had placed itself under the rule of the word of god; where everyone joined in a common worship attractive from its severe simplicity; where the morals, public and private, were pure; where the believers selected their pastors and the people their rulers; where there were neither masters nor subjects; where the ministers of religion lived the lives of simple laymen, and were distinguished from them only by the exercise of their sacred service. they indulged in the dream that all france might be fashioned after the model of geneva. many a frenchman who was dissatisfied with the condition of things in france, but had come to no personal decision to leave the mediæval church, could not help contrasting what he saw around him with the life and aspiration of those "of the religion,"[ ] as the french protestants began to be called. they saw themselves confronted by a religion full of mysteries inaccessible to reason, expressing itself even in public worship in a language unintelligible to most of the worshippers, full of pomp, of luxury, of ceremonies whose symbolical meaning had been forgotten. they saw a clergy commonplace and ignorant, or aristocratic and indifferent; a nobility greedy and restless; a court whose luxurious display and scandals were notorious; royal mistresses and faithless husbands and wives. almost everywhere we find a growing tendency to contrast the purity of protestantism and the corruption of roman catholicism. it found outcome in the famous scene in the _parlement_ of paris ( ), when antoine de bourg, son of a former chancellor, advocated the total suspension of the persecution against those "who were called heretics," and enforced his opinion by contrasting the blasphemies and scandals of the court with the morality and the purity of the lives of those who were being sent to the stake,--a speech for which he afterwards lost his life.[ ] it was this growing united protestantism which henry ii. and his advisers had determined to crush by the action of the legislative authority. § . _persecution under henry ii._[ ] the repressive legal measures introduced by francis i. were retained, and a new law against blasphemy (prepared, no doubt, during the last days of francis) was published five days after the king's death (april th, ). but more was believed to be necessary. so a series of edicts, culminating in the edict of chateaubriand, were published, which aimed at uniting all the forces of the kingdom to extirpate the reformed faith. on october th, , a second criminal court was added to the _parlement_ of paris, to deal solely with cases of heresy. this was the famous _chambre ardente_. it was ordered to sit continuously, even during the ordinary parliamentary vacancies in august and september; and its first session lasted from dec. to jan. , during which time it must have passed more than five hundred judgments. the clergy felt that this special court took from them one of their privileges, the right of trying all cases of heresy. they petitioned against it. a compromise was arranged (edict of nov. th, ), by which all cases of simple heresy (_cas communes_) were to be sent to the ecclesiastical courts, while cases of heresy accompanied by public scandal (_cas privilégiés_) were to be judged in the civil courts. in practice it usually happened that all cases of heresy went first before the ecclesiastical courts and, after judgment there, those which were believed to be attended by public scandal (the largest number) were sent on to the civil courts. these measures were not thought sufficient, and the edict of chateaubriand (june th, ) codified and extended all the various legal measures taken for the defence of the roman catholic faith. the edict was lengthy, and began with a long preamble, which declared that in spite of all measures of repression, heresy was increasing; that it was a pestilence "so contagious that it had infected most of the inhabitants, men, women, and even little children, in many of the towns and districts of the kingdom," and asked every loyal subject to aid the government in extirpating the plague. it provided that, as before, all cases of simple heresy should be judged in the ecclesiastical courts, and that heresy accompanied with public scandal should be sent to the civil courts of the _parlements_. it issued stringent regulations about the publication and sale of books; forbidding the introduction into france of volumes from protestant countries; forbidding the printing of books which had not passed the censor of the faculty of theology, and all books published anonymously; and ordering an examination of all printing houses and bookshops twice in the year. private persons who did not inform against heretics were liable to be considered heretics themselves, and punished as such; and when they did denounce them they were to receive one-third of the possessions of the persons condemned. parents were charged "by the pity, love, and charity which they owed to their children," not to engage any teachers who might be "suspect"; no one was permitted to teach in school or college who was not certified to be orthodox; and masters were made responsible for their servants. intercourse with those who had taken refuge in geneva was prohibited, and the goods of the refugees were confiscated. all catholics, and more especially persons of rank and in authority, were required to give the earnest example of attending carefully to outward observances of religion, and in particular to kneel in adoration of the host. the edict was registered on sept. rd, , and immediately put in force. six years later, the king had to confess that its stringent provisions had failed to arrest the spread of the protestant faith. he proposed to establish the inquisition in france, moved thereto by the cardinal of lorraine and pope paul iv.; and was prevented only by the strenuous opposition of his _parlement_.[ ] he had to content himself with issuing the edict of compiègne ( ), which, while nominally leaving trials for heresy in the hands of the ecclesiastical courts, practically handed them over to the civil courts, where the judges were not allowed to inflict any lesser punishment than death. they were permitted to increase the penalty by inflicting torture, or to mitigate it by strangling the victims before burning them. armed with this legislation, the work of hunting out the reformed was strenuously carried on. certain prisons were specially reserved for the protestant martyrs--the conciergerie, which was part of the building of the palace, and the grand châtelet, which faced it on the opposite bank of the seine. they soon overflowed, and suspects were confined in the bastille, in the petit châtelet, and in episcopal prisons. the cells of the conciergerie were below the level of the river, and water oozed from the walls; the grand châtelet was noted for its terrible dungeons, so small that the prisoner could neither stand upright nor lie at full length on the floor. diseases decimated the victims; the plague slew sixty who were waiting for trial in the grand châtelet in . few were acquitted; almost all, once arrested, suffered death and torture.[ ] § . _the organisation of the french protestant church._ it was during these years of terrible persecution that the protestant church of france organised itself--feeling the need for unity the better to sustain the conflict in which it was engaged, and to assist its weaker members. calvin was unwearied in urging on this work of organisation. with the fire of a prophet and the foresight of a statesman he insisted on the necessity of unity during the storm and strain of a time of persecution. he had already shown what form the ecclesiastical organisation ought to take.[ ] he proposed to revive the simple threefold ministry of the church of the early centuries--a congregation ruled by a bishop or pastor, a session of elders, and a body of deacons. this was adopted by the french protestants. a group of believers, a minister, a "consistory" of elders and deacons, regular preaching, and the sacraments duly administered, made a church properly constituted. the minister was the chief; he preached; he administered the sacraments; he presided at the "consistory." the "consistory" was composed of elders charged with the spiritual oversight of the community, and of deacons who looked after the poor and the sick. the elders and the deacons were chosen by the members of the congregation; and the minister by the elders and the deacons. an organised church did not come into existence all at once as a rule, and a distinction was drawn between an _église plantée_, and an _église dressée_. the former was in an embryonic state, with a pastor, it might be, but no consistory; or it might be only a group of people who welcomed the occasional services of a wandering missioner, or held simple services without any definite leader. the year may be taken as the date when french protestantism began to organise churches. it is true that a few had been established earlier--at meaux in and at nimes in , but the congregations had been dispersed by persecution. before the protestants of france had been for the most part solitary bible students, or little companies meeting together for common worship without any organisation. paris set the example. a small company of believers had been accustomed to meet in the lodging of the sieur de la ferriere, near the pré-aux-clercs. the birth of a child hastened matters. the father explained that he could not go outside france to seek a pure baptism, and that his conscience would not permit his child to be baptized according to the rites of the roman church. after prayer the company resolved to constitute themselves into a church. jean le maçon was called to be the minister or pastor; elders and deacons were chosen; and the organisation was complete.[ ] it seemed as if all protestant france had been waiting for the signal, and organised churches sprang up everywhere. crespin names thirteen churches, completely organised in the manner of the church of paris, founded between and --meaux, poitiers, angers, les iles de saintonge, agen, bourges, issoudun, aubigny, blois, tours, lyon, orléans, and rouen. he adds that there were others. documentary evidence now available enables us to give thirty-six more, all _dressées_, or completely organised, with a consistory or kirk-session, before . one hundred and twenty pastors were sent to france from geneva before . the history of these congregations during the reign of henry ii. was full of tragic and dramatic incidents.[ ] they existed in the midst of a population which was for the most part fanatically romanist, easily excited by priests and monks, who poured forth violent addresses from the pulpits of neighbouring churches. law-courts, whether in the capital or in the provinces, the public officials, all loyal subjects of the king, were invited, commanded by the edict of chateaubriand, to ferret out and hunt down those suspected of protestant sympathies. to fail to make a reverence when passing a crucifix, to speak unguardedly against an ecclesiastical ceremony, to exhibit the slightest sympathy for a protestant martyr, to be found in possession of a book printed in geneva, was sufficient to provoke a denunciation, an arrest, a trial which must end in torture and death. protestants were compelled to worship in cellars, to creep stealthily to their united devotions; like the early christians during the persecutions under decius or diocletian, they had to meet at midnight; and these midnight assemblies gave rise to the same infamous reports about their character which the jews spread abroad regarding the secret meetings of the christians of the first three centuries.[ ] every now and then they were discovered, as in the incident of the rue saint jacques in paris, and wholesale arrests and martyrdoms followed. the organisation of the faithful into churches had done much for french protestantism in bestowing upon them the power which association gives; but more was needed to weld them into one. in , doctrinal differences arose in the congregation at poitiers. the church in paris was appealed to, and its minister, antoine de chandieu, went to poitiers to assist at the celebration of the holy supper, and to heal the dispute. there, it is said, the idea of a confession of faith for the whole church was suggested. calvin was consulted, but did not approve. notwithstanding, on may th, , a number of ministers and elders, coming from all parts of france, and representing, according to a contemporary document whose authority is somewhat doubtful, sixty-six churches,[ ] met in paris for conference. three days were spent in deliberations, under the presidency of morel, one of the parisian ministers. this was the _first national synod_ of the french protestant church. it compiled a confession of faith and a book of discipline. the confession of faith[ ] (_confession de foi faite d'un commun accord par les françois, qui desirent vivre selon la pureté de l'évangile de notre seigneur jésus christ_) consists of forty articles. it was revised more than once by subsequent synods, but may still be called the confession of the french protestant church. it was based on a short confession drafted by calvin in , and embodied in a letter to the king on behalf of his persecuted subjects. "it seemed useful," one of the members of the synod wrote to calvin, "to add some articles to your confession, and to modify it slightly on some points." probably out of deference to calvin's objection to a creed for the whole church, it was resolved to keep it secret for some time. the resolution was in vain. the confession was in print, and known before the end of . the book of discipline (_discipline ecclésiastique des églises réformées de france_) regulated the organisation and the discipline of the churches. it was that kind of ecclesiastical polity which has become known as presbyterian, but which might be better called conciliar. a council called the _consistory_, consisting of the minister or ministers, elders, and deacons, ruled the congregation. congregations were formed into groups, over which was the _colloquy_, composed of representatives from the consistories; over the _colloquies_ were the _provincial synods_; and over all the _general_ or _national synod_. rules were laid down about how discipline was to be exercised. it was stated clearly that no church could claim a primacy over the others. all ministers were required to sign the confession of faith, and to acknowledge and submit to the ecclesiastical discipline.[ ] it is interesting to see how in a country whose civil rule was becoming gradually more absolutist, this "church under the cross" framed for itself a government which reconciled, more thoroughly perhaps than has ever been done since, the two principles of popular rights and supreme central control. its constitution has spread to holland, scotland, and to the great american churches. their ecclesiastical polity came much more from paris than from geneva. § . _reaction against persecution._ an attentive study of the sources of the history of the period shows that the excessive severity of king and court towards protestants had excited a fairly widespread reaction in favour of the persecuted, and had also impelled the king to action which was felt by many to be unconstitutional. this sympathy with the persecuted and repugnance to the arbitrary exercise of kingship did much to mould the huguenot movement which lay in the immediate future. the protests against the institution of the _chambre ardente_, the refusal of the _parlement_ of paris to register the edict establishing the inquisition in france, and the hesitancy to put in execution extraordinary powers bestowed on french cardinals for the punishing of heretics by the bull of pope paul iv. (feb. th, ), may all be ascribed to the jealousy with which the courts, ecclesiastical and civil, viewed any interference with their privileged jurisdiction. but the edict of chateaubriand ( ), with its articles declaring the unwillingness or negligence shown by public officials in finding out and punishing heretics, making provisions against this, and ordaining that none but persons of well-known orthodoxy were to be appointed magistrates (arts. , , ), confessed that there were many even among those in office who disliked the policy of persecution. contemporary official documents confirm this unwillingness. we hear of municipal magistrates intervening to protect their protestant fellow-citizens from punishment in the ecclesiastical courts; of town's police conniving at the escape of heretics; of a procurator at law who was suspended from office for a year for such connivance;[ ] and of civil courts who could not be persuaded to pass sentences except merely nominal ones. the growing discontent at the severe treatment of the persecuted protestants made itself manifest, even within the _parlement_ of paris, so long notorious for its persecuting zeal. this became evident when the criminal court of the _parlement_ (la tournelle, ) commuted a sentence of death passed on three protestants into one of banishment. the violent romanists protested against this, and demanded a meeting of the whole _parlement_ to fix its mode of judicial action. at this meeting some of the members--antoine fumée, du faur, viole, and antoine du bourg (the son of a chancellor in the days of francis i.)--spoke strongly on behalf of the protestants. they pleaded that a space of six months after trial should be given to the accused to reconsider their position, and that, if they resolve to stand fast in the faith, they should be allowed to withdraw from the kingdom. their boldness encouraged others. the cardinal lorraine and the constable montmorency dreaded the consequences of prolonged discussion, and communicated their fears to the king. henry, accompanied by the cardinals of lorraine and of guise, the constable, and francis, duke de guise, entered the hall where _parlement_ sat, and ordered the discussion to be continued in his presence. the minority were not intimidated. du faur and viole demanded a total cessation of the persecution pending the summoning of a council. du bourg went further. he contrasted the pure lives and earnest piety of the persecuted with the scandals which disgraced the roman church and the court. "it is no light matter," he said, "to condemn to the stake men who invoke the name of jesus in the midst of the flames." the king was furious. he ordered the arrest of du bourg and du faur on the spot, and shortly afterwards fumée and la porte were also sent to the bastille. this arbitrary seizure of members of the _parlement_ of paris may be said to mark the time when the protestants of france began to assume the form of a political as well as of a religious party. at this anxious juncture henry ii. met his death, on june th, by the accidental thrust of a lance at a tournament held in honour of the approaching marriage of his daughter elizabeth with philip of spain. he lingered till july th, . § . _the higher aristocracy won for the reformation._ when the lists of protestants who suffered for their faith in france or who were compelled to take refuge in geneva and other protestant towns are examined and analysed, as they have been by french archæologists, it is found that the great number of martyrs and refugees were artisans, tradesmen, farmers, and the like.[ ] a few names of "notables"--a general, a member of the _parlement_ of toulouse, a "gentleman" of limousin--are found among the martyrs, and a much larger proportion among the fugitives. the names of members of noble houses of france are conspicuous by their absence. this does not necessarily mean that the new teaching had not found acceptance among men and women in the upper classes of french society. the noble of the sixteenth century, so long as he remained within his own territory and in his château, was almost independent. he was not subject to the provincial tribunals. protestantism had been spreading among such. we hear of several high-born ladies present in the congregation of three or four hundred protestants who were surrounded in a large house in the rue st. jacques (sept. th, ), and who were released. renée, daughter of louis xii., duchess of ferrara, had declared herself a protestant, and had been visited by calvin as early as .[ ] francis d'andelot, the youngest of the three chatillons, became a convert during his imprisonment at melun ( - ). his more celebrated brother, gaspard de coligny, the admiral of france, became a protestant during his imprisonment after the fall of st. quentin ( ).[ ] de bèze (beza) tells us that as early as , antoine de bourbon, titular king of navarre in right of his wife jeanne d'albret, and next in succession to king henri ii. and his sons, had the new faith preached in the chapel at nérac, and that he asked a minister to be sent to him from geneva. his brother louis, prince of condé, also declared himself on the protestant side. the wives of the brothers bourbon, jeanne d'albret and eléanor de roye, were more determined and consistent protestants than their husbands. the two brothers were among those present at the assemblies in the pré-aux-clercs, where for five successive evenings (may - ) more than five thousand persons met to sing clement marot's psalms.[ ] calvin wrote energetically to all these great nobles, urging them to declare openly on the side of the gospel, and protect their brethren in the faith less able to defend themselves. § . _france ruled by the guises._[ ] the successor of henry ii. was his son francis ii., who was fifteen years of age, and therefore entitled by french law to rule in his own name. he was a youth feeble in mind and in body, and devotedly attached to his young and accomplished wife, mary queen of scots. she believed naturally that her husband could not do better than entrust the government of the kingdom to her uncles, charles the cardinal of lorraine, and francis the duke de guise. the cardinal had been henry ii.'s most trusted minister; and his brother was esteemed to be the best soldier in france. when the _parlement_ of paris, according to ancient custom, came to congratulate the king on his succession, and to ask to whom they were to apply in affairs of state, they were told by the king that they were to obey the cardinal and the duke "as himself." the constable de montmorency and the favourite, diane de poitiers, were sent from the court, and the queen-mother, catherine de' medici, that "shopkeeper's daughter," as the young queen called her, found herself as devoid of influence as she had been during the lifetime of her husband. the cardinal of lorraine had been the chief adviser of that policy of extirpating the protestants to which the late king had devoted himself, and it was soon apparent that it would be continued by the new government. the process against antoine du bourg and his fellow-members of the _parlement_ of paris who had dared to remonstrate against the persecution, was pushed forward with all speed. they were condemned to the stake, and the only mitigation of sentence was that du bourg was to be strangled before he was burnt. his fate provoked much sympathy. as he was led to the place of execution the crowd pleaded with him to recant. his resolute, dignified bearing made a great impression; and his dying speech, according to one eye-witness, "did more harm to the roman church than a hundred ministers could have done," and, according to another, "made more converts among the french students than all the books of calvin." the persecutions of protestants of lower rank increased rather than diminished. police made descents on the houses in the rue de marais-saint-germain and neighbouring streets.[ ] spies were hired to insinuate themselves into the confidence of the suspected for the purpose of denouncing them. the _parlement_ of paris instituted four separate criminal courts for the sole purpose of trying heretics brought before them. the prisons were no sooner filled than they were emptied by sentences which sent the condemned to the galleys or to death. the government incited to persecution by new declarations and edicts. it declared that houses in which conventicles were held were to be razed to the ground (sept. th, ); that all who organised unlawful assemblies were to be punished by death (nov. th, ); that nobles who had justiciary courts were to act according to law in the matter of heresy, or to be deprived of their justiciary rights (feb. ). in spite of all this stern repression, the numbers of the protestants increased, and calvin could declare that there were at least , in france. the character of protestantism in france had been changing. in the earlier years of the persecution they had submitted meekly without thought of revolt, resigned to their fate, rejoicing to suffer in the cause of christ. but under this rule of the guises the question of resistance was discussed. it could be said that revolt did not mean revenge for injuries done to themselves. a foreign family had overawed their king and imposed themselves on france. the princes of the blood, antoine de bourbon and his brother louis de condé, in whose veins ran the blood of saint louis, who were the natural leaders of the people, were flouted by the guises. the inviolability of _parlement_ had been attacked in the execution of antoine du bourg, and the justiciary rights of great nobles were threatened simply in order to extirpate "those of the religion." they believed that france was full of men who had no good will to the tyranny of the "foreigners." they consulted their brethren in exile, and calvin himself, on the lawfulness and expediency of an armed insurrection. the refugees favoured the plan. calvin denounced it. "if one drop of blood is shed in such a revolt, rivers will flow; it is better that we all perish than cause such a scandal to the cause of christ and his evangel." some of the protestants were not to be convinced. they only needed a leader. their natural head was the king of navarre; but antoine de bourbon was too unstable. louis de condé, his brother, was sounded.[ ] it is said that he promised to come forward if the enterprise was confined to the seizure of the guises, and if it was successful in effecting this. a protestant gentleman, godefroy de barry, seigneur de la renaudie, became temporary leader. he had wrongs to avenge. he had been condemned by the _parlement_ of dijon (burgundy), had escaped to geneva, and had been converted there; his brother-in-law, gaspard de heu, of metz, had been strangled by the guises in the castle of vincennes without form of trial. a number of gentlemen and nobles promised their assistance. the conspirators swore to undertake nothing against the king; the enterprise was limited to the arrest of the guises. news of the project began to leak out. every information went to show that the guises were the objects of attack. the court was moved from blois to amboise, which was a fortified city. more precise information filtered to headquarters. the duke of guise captured some small bands of conspirators, and de la renaudie himself was slain in a skirmish. the guises took summary vengeance. their prisoners were often slaughtered when caught; or were tied hand and foot and thrown into the loire. others were hurried through a form of trial. so many gallows were needed that there was not wood enough, and the prisoners were hung from the doors and battlements of the castle of amboise. the young king and queen, with their ladies, walked out after dinner to feast their eyes on the dead bodies. even before the conspiracy of amboise had run its length, members of the court had begun to protest against the religious policy of the guises. catherine de' medici had talked the matter over with the admiral coligny, had been told by him that the religious persecutions were at the bottom of the troubles in the kingdom, and had listened to his proposal that all such should be suspended until the meeting of a council. the result was that government decided to pardon those accused of heresy if they would promise for the future to live as good catholics. the brutalities of the methods by which the sharers in the foolishly planned and feebly executed conspiracy of amboise were punished increased the state of disorder in the kingdom, and the hatred against the guises found vent in an _epistle sent to the tiger of france_, in which the duke is addressed as a "mad tiger, a venomous viper, a sepulchre of abominations." catherine de' medici deemed the opportunity favourable for exercising her influence. she contrived to get michel de l'hôpital appointed as chancellor, knowing that he was opposed to the sanguinary policy pursued. he was able to inspire the edict of romorantin (may th, ), which made the bishops judges of the crime of heresy, imposed penalties on false accusers, and left the punishment to be bestowed on attendance at conventicles in the hands of the presidents of the tribunals. then, with the help of the chancellor, catherine managed to get an _assembly of the notables_ summoned to meet at fontainebleau. there, many of the members advocated a cessation of the religious persecution. one archbishop, marillac of vienne, and the bishops of orléans and valence, asserted boldly that the religious disorders were really caused by the scandals in the church; spoke against severe repression until a council, national or general, had been held; and hinted that the services of the guises were not indispensable. at the beginning of the second session coligny spoke. he had the courage to make himself the representative of the huguenots, as the protestants now began to be nicknamed. he attacked boldly the religious policy of the guises, charged them with standing between the king and loyal subjects, and declared that the persecuted were christians who asked for nothing but to be allowed to worship god as the gospel taught them. he presented a petition to the king from the protestants asserting their loyalty, begging that the persecution should cease, and asking that "temples" might be assigned for their worship. the petition was unsigned, but coligny declared that fifty thousand names could be obtained in normandy alone. the duke of guise spoke with great violence, but the more politic cardinal induced him to agree with the other members to call a meeting of the states general of france, to be held on the th of december . shortly after the notables had dispersed, word came of another conspiracy, in which not only the bourbon princes, but also the constable montmorency were said to be implicated. disturbances broke out in provence and dauphiné. the guises went back to their old policy of violence. the king of navarre and the prince of condé were summoned by the king to appear before him to justify themselves. although well warned of what might happen, they obeyed the summons, and presented themselves unattended by armed men. condé was seized and imprisoned. he was condemned to death, and his execution was fixed for the th of december. the king of navarre was left at liberty, but was closely watched; and more than one attempt was made to assassinate him. it was vaguely believed that the cardinal of lorraine had resolved to get rid of all the leaders of the huguenots by death or imprisonment. while these terrifying suggestions were being whispered, the young king fell ill, and died suddenly. this ended the rule of the guises, and the french protestants breathed freely again. "did you ever read or hear," said calvin in a letter to sturm, "of anything more opportune than the death of the king? the evils had reached an extremity for which there was no remedy, when suddenly god shows himself from heaven. he who pierced the eye of the father has now stricken the ear of the son." § . _catherine de' medici becomes regent._ in the confusion which resulted, catherine recognised that at last the time had come when she could gratify the one strong passion which possessed her--the passion to govern. charles ix. was a boy of ten. a regent was essential. antoine de bourbon, as the first prince of the blood, might have claimed the position; but catherine first terrified him with what might be the fate of condé, and then proposed that the constable montmorency and himself should be her principal advisers. the facile antoine accepted the situation: the constable was recalled to the court; louis de condé was released from prison. his imprisonment had made a deep impression all over france. the protestants believed that he had suffered for their sakes. hymns of prayer had been sung during his captivity, and songs of thanksgiving greeted his release.[ ] "le pauvre chrestien, qui endure prison, pour verité; le prince, en captivité dure sans l'avoir mérité? an plus fort de leurs peines entendent tes oeuvres tons parfaits, et gloire et louange te rendent de tes merveilleux faits." this was sung all over france during condé's imprisonment; after his release the tone varied: "resjonissez vons en dieu fidéles de chacun lieu; car dieu pour nous a mandé (envoyé) le bon prince de condé; et vous nobles protestans princes, seigneurs attestans; car dieu pour nous a maudé le bon prince de condé." catherine de' medici was forty-one years of age when she became the regent of france.[ ] her life had been hard. born in , the niece of pope clement vii, she was married to henry of france in . she had been a neglected wife all the days of her married life. for ten years she had been childless,[ ] and her sonnets breathe the prayer of rachel--give me children, or else i die. during henry's absence with the army in , he had grudgingly appointed her regent, and she had shown both ability and patience in acquiring a knowledge of all the details of government. after the defeat of saint-quentin she for once earned her husband's gratitude and praise by the way in which she had promptly persuaded the parliament to grant a subsidy of , livres. these incidents were her sole apprenticeship in the art of ruling. she had always been a great eater, walker, and rider.[ ] her protruding eyes and her bulging forehead recalled the features of her grand-uncle, pope leo x. she had the taste of her family for art and display. her strongest intellectual force was a robust, hard, and narrow common sense which was responsible both for her success and for her failures. she can scarcely be called immoral; it seemed rather that she was utterly destitute of any moral sense whatsoever. the difficulties which confronted the regent were great, both at home and abroad. the question of questions was the treatment to be given to her protestant subjects. she seems from the first to have been in favour of a measure of toleration; but the fanatically roman catholic party was vigorous in france, especially in paris, and was ably led by the guises; and philip of spain had made the suppression of the reformation a matter of international policy. meanwhile catherine had to face the states general, summoned by the late king in august . while the guises were still in power, strict orders had been given to see that none but ardent romanists should be elected; but the excitement of the times could not be restrained by any management. it was nearly half a century since a king of france had invited a declaration of the opinions of his subjects; the last meeting of the states general had been in .[ ] catherine watched the elections, and the expression of sentiments which they called forth. she saw that the protestants were active. calvinist ministers traversed the west and the south almost unhindered, encouraging the people to assert their liberties. they were even permitted to address some of the assemblies met to elect representatives. a minister, charles dalbiac, expounded the confession of faith to the meeting of the nobles at angers, and showed how the roman church had enslaved and changed the whole of the christian faith and practice. in other places it was said that antoine de bourbon had no right to allow catherine to assume the regency, and that he ought to be forced to take his proper place. the air seemed full of menaces against the regent and in favour of the princes of the blood. catherine hastened to place the king of navarre in a position of greater dignity. she shared the regency nominally with the premier prince of the blood, who was lieutenant-general of france. if antoine had been a man of resolution, he might have insisted on a large share in the government of the country, but his easy, careless disposition made him plastic in the hands of catherine, and she could write to her daughter that he was very obedient, and issued no order without her permission. the estates met at orléans on the th of december. the opening speech by the chancellor, michel de l'hôpital, showed that the regent and her councillors were at least inclined to a policy of tolerance. the three orders (clergy, nobles, and third estate), he said, had been summoned to find remedies for the divisions which existed within the kingdom; and these, he believed, were due to religion. he could not help recognising that religious beliefs, good or bad, tended to excite burning passions. he could not avoid seeing that a common religion was a stricter bond of unity than belonging to the same race or living under the same laws. might they not all wait for the decision of a general council? might they not cease to use the irritating epithets of _lutherans_, _huguenots_, _papists_, and remember that they were all good christians. the spokesmen of the three orders were heard at the second sitting. dr. quintin, one of the regents of the university of paris, voiced the clergy. he enlarged against the proposals which were to be brought forward by the other two orders to despoil the revenues of the church, to attempt its reform by the civil power, and to grant toleration and even liberty of worship to heretics. coligny begged the regent to note that quintin had called subjects of the king heretics, and the spokesman of the clergy apologised. jacques de silly, baron de rochefort, and jean lange, an advocate of bordeaux, who spoke for the nobles and for the third estate, declaimed against the abuses of ecclesiastical courts, and the avarice and ignorance of the clergy. at the sitting on jan. st, , each of the three estates presented a written list of grievances (_cahiers_). that of the third estate was a memorable and important document in three hundred and fifty-four articles, and reveals, as no other paper of the time does, the evils resulting from absolutist and aristocratic government in france. it asked for complete toleration in matters of religion, for a reformation of the church in the sense of giving a large extension of power to the laity, for uniformity in judicial procedure, for the abolition or curtailment of powers in signorial courts, for quinquennial meetings of the estates general, and demanded that the day and place of the next meeting should be fixed before the end of the present sitting. the nobles were divided on the question of toleration, and presented three separate papers. in the first, which came from central prance, stern repression of the protestant faith was demanded; in the second, coming from the nobles of the western provinces, complete toleration was claimed; in the third it was asked that both parties should be made to keep the peace, and that only preachers and pastors be punished. the list presented by the clergy, like those of the other two orders, insisted upon the reform of the church; but it took the line of urging the abolition of the concordat, and a return to the provisions of the pragmatic sanction of bourges. the government answered these lists of grievances presented by an edict and an ordinance. in the edict (jan. th, ) the king ordered that all prosecutions for religion should cease, and that all prisoners should be released, with an admonition "to live in a catholic manner" for the future. the ordinance (dated jan. st, but not completed till the following august), known as the _ordinance of orléans_, was a very elaborate document. it touched upon almost all questions brought forward in the lists of grievances, and enacted various reforms, both civil and ecclesiastic--all of which were for the most part evaded in practice. the estates were adjourned until the st of may. the huguenots had gained a suspension of persecution, if not toleration, by the edict of jan. th, and the disposition of the government made them hope for still further assistance. refugees came back in great numbers from switzerland, germany, england, and even from italy. the number of protestant congregations increased, and geneva provided the pastors. the edict did not give liberty of worship, but the protestants acted as if it did. this roused the wrath of the more fanatically disposed portion of the roman catholic population. priests and monks fanned the flames of sectarian bitterness. the government was denounced, and anti-protestant riots disturbed the country. when the huguenots of paris attempted to revive the psalm-singings in the pré-aux-clercs, they were mobbed, and beaten with sticks by the populace. this led to reprisals in those parts of the country where the huguenots were in a majority. in some towns the churches were invaded, the images torn down, and the relics burnt. the leaders strove to restrain their followers.[ ] calvin wrote energetically from geneva against the lawlessness: "god has never enjoined on any one to destroy idols, save on every man in his own house or on those placed in authority in public places.... obedience is better than sacrifice; we must look to what it is lawful for us to do, and must keep ourselves within bounds." at the court at fontainebleau, renée, duchess of ferrara, and the princess of condé were permitted by the regent to have worship in their rooms after the reformed rite; and coligny had in his household a minister from geneva, jean raymond merlin, to whose sermons outsiders were not only admitted but invited. these things gave great offence to the constable montmorency, who was a strong romanist. he was still more displeased when monluc, bishop of valence, preached in the state apartments before the boy king and the queen mother. he thought it was undignified for a bishop to preach, and he believed that monluc's sermons contained something very like lutheran theology. he invited the duke of guise and saint-andré, both old enemies, to supper (april th, ), and the three pleged themselves to save the romanism of france. this union was afterwards known as the triumvirate. meanwhile religious disturbances were increasing. the huguenots demanded the right to have "temples" granted to them or built at their own expense; and in many places they openly gathered for public worship and for the celebration of the lord's supper. they frequently met armed to protect themselves from attack. the government at length interfered, and by an edict (july ) prohibited, under penalty of confiscation of property, all conventicles, public or private, whether the worshippers were armed or unarmed, where sermons were made and the sacraments celebrated in any other fashion than that of the catholic church. the edict declared, on the other hand, that magistrates were not to be too zealous; persons who laid false information were to be severely punished; and all attacks on houses were forbidden. it was evidently meant to conciliate both parties. coligny did not discontinue the services in his apartments, and wrote to his co-religionists that they had nothing to fear so long as they worshipped in private houses. jeanne d'albret declared herself openly a protestant; and as she travelled from nérac to fontainebleau she restored to the huguenots churches which the magistrates had taken from them in obedience to the edict of july. the prorogued meeting of the states general did not assemble until the st of august, and even then representatives of two orders only were present. an ecclesiastical synod was sitting at poissy (opened july th), and the clerical representatives were there. it was the th of august before the three orders met together in presence of the king and the members of his council at saint-germain. the meeting had been called for the purpose of discussing the question of national finance; but it was impossible to ignore the religious question. in their _cahiers_, both the nobles and the third estate advocated complete toleration and the summoning a national council. the financial proposals of the third estate were thoroughgoing. after a statement of the national indebtedness, and a representation that taxation had reached its utmost limits, they proposed that money should be obtained from the superfluity of ecclesiastical wealth. in their _cahier_ of jan. st, the third estate had sketched a civil constitution for the french church; they now went further, and proposed that all ecclesiastical revenues should be nationalised, and that the clergy should be paid by the state. they calculated that a surplus of seventy-two million livres would result, and proposed that forty-two millions should be set aside to liquidate the national debt. this bold proposal was impracticable in the condition of the kingdom. the _parlement_ of paris regarded it as a revolutionary attack on the rights of property, and it alienated them for ever from the reformation movement; but it enabled the government to wring from the alarmed churchmen a subsidy of sixteen million livres, to be paid in six annual instalments. § . _the conference at poissy._ it was scarcely possible, in view of the pope and philip of spain, to assemble a national council, but the government had already conceived the idea of a meeting of theologians, which would be such an assembly in all but the name. they had invited representatives of the protestant ministers (july th) to attend the synod of the clergy sitting at poissy. the invitation had been accepted, and the government intended to give an air of unusual solemnity to the meeting. the king, surrounded by his mother, his brothers, and the princes of the blood, presided as at a sitting of the states general. the chancellor, in the king's name, opened the session with a remarkable speech, in which he set forth the advantages to be gained from religious union. he addressed the assembled bishops and roman catholic theologians, assuring them that they ought to have no scruples in meeting the protestant divines. the latter were not heretics like the old manicheans or arians. they accepted the scriptures as the rule of faith, the apostles' creed, the four principal councils and _their_ creeds (the symbols of nicea, constantinople, and chalcedon). the main difference between them was that the protestants wished the church to be reformed according to the primitive pattern. they had given proof of their sincerity by being content to die for their faith. the reformers were represented by twelve ministers, among whom were morel of paris; nicolas des gallars, minister of the french protestant church in london, and by twenty laymen. their leader was théodore de bèze (beza), a man of noble birth, celebrated as a humanist, a brilliant writer and controversialist, whom calvin, at the request of antoine de bourbon, catherine de' medici, and coligny, had commissioned to represent him. de bèze was privately presented to the king and the regent by the king of navarre and by the prince de condé, and his learning, presence, and stately courtesy made a great impression upon the court. he had been born in the same year as the regent ( ), and had thrown away very brilliant prospects to become a minister of the reformed church. the meeting was held in the refectory of the nuns of poissy.[ ] the king and his suite were placed at one end of the hall, and the romanist bishops and theologians were arranged by the walls on the two sides. after the chancellor had finished his speech, the representatives of the protestants were introduced by the duke of guise, in command of an escort of the king's archers. they were placed in front of a barrier which separated them from the romanist divines. "there come the dogs of geneva," said the cardinal of tournon as they entered the hall. the speech of de bèze, delivered on the first day (sept. th) of the colloquy, as it came to be called, made a great impression. he expounded with clearness of thought and precision of language the creed of his church, showing where it agreed and where it differed from that of the roman catholic. the gravity and the charm of his eloquence compelled attention, and it was not until he began to criticise with frank severity the doctrine of transubstantiation that he provoked murmurs of dissent. the speech must have disappointed catherine. it had made no attempt to attenuate the differences between the two confessions, and held out no hopes of a reunion of the churches. the cardinal of lorraine was charged to reply on behalf of the roman catholic party (sept. th). his speech was that of a strong partisan, and dealt principally with the two points of the authority of the church in matters of faith and usage, and the doctrine of the sacrament of the holy supper. there was no attempt at conciliation. three days after (sept. th), cardinal ippolito d'este arrived at saint-germain, accompanied by a numerous suite, among whom was laynez, the general of the society of jesus. he had been sent by the pope, legate _a latere_, to end, if possible, the conference at poissy, and to secure the goodwill of the french government for the promulgation of the decrees of the council of trent. he so far prevailed that the last two sittings of the conference (sept. th, th) were with closed doors, and were scenes of perpetual recriminations. laynez distinguished himself by his vituperative violence. the protestant ministers were "wolves," "foxes," "serpents," "assassins." catherine persevered. she arranged a conference between five of the more liberal roman catholic clergy and five protestant ministers. it met (sept. th, oct. st), and managed to draft a formula about the holy supper which was at once rejected by the bishops of the french church (oct. th). out of this colloquy of poissy came the edict of january th, , which provided that protestants were to surrender all the churches and ecclesiastical buildings they had seized, and prohibited them from meeting for public worship, whether within a building or not, inside the walls of any town. on the other hand, they were to have the right to assemble for public worship anywhere outside walled towns, and meetings in private houses within the walls were not prohibited. thus the protestants of france secured legal recognition for the first time, and enjoyed the right to worship according to their conscience. they were not satisfied--they could scarcely be, so long as they were kept outside the walls; but their leaders insisted on their accepting the edict as a reasonable compromise. "if the liberty promised us in the edict lasts," calvin wrote, "the papacy will fall to the ground of itself." within one year the huguenots of france found themselves freed from persecution, and in the enjoyment of a measured liberty of public worship. it can scarcely be doubted that they owed this to catherine de' medici. she was a child of the renaissance, and was naturally on the side of free thought; and she was, besides, at this time persuaded that the huguenots had the future on their side. in the coming struggle they regarded this edict as their charter, and frequently demanded its restitution and enforcement. catherine de' medici had shown both courage and constancy in her attempts at conciliation. to the remonstrances of philip of spain she had replied that she meant to be master in her own house; and when the constable de montmorency had threatened to leave the court, he had been told that he might do as he pleased. but she was soon to be convinced that she had overestimated the strength of the protestants, and that she could never count on the consistent support of their nominal leader, the vain and vacillating antoine de bourbon. had jeanne d'albret been in her husband's place, things might have been different. the edict of january th, , had exasperated the romanists without satisfying the mass of the protestants. the marked increase in the numbers of protestant congregations, and their not very strict observance of the limitations of the edict, had given rise to disturbances in many parts of the country. everything seemed to tend towards civil war. the spark which kindled the conflagration was the massacre of vassy.[ ] § . _the massacre of vassy._ the duke of guise, travelling from joinville to paris, accompanied by his brother, the cardinal of guise, his children and his wife, and escorted by a large armed retinue, halted at vassy (march st, ). it was a sunday, and the duke wished to hear mass. scarcely a gunshot from the church was a barn where the protestants (in defiance of the edict, for vassy was a walled town) were holding a service. the congregation, barely a year old, was numerous and zealous. it was an eyesore to antoinette de bourbon, the mother of the guises, who lived in the neighbouring château of joinville, and saw her dependants attracted by the preaching at vassy. the duke was exasperated at seeing men whom he counted his subjects defying him in his presence. he sent some of his retainers to order the worshippers to quit the place. they were received by cries of "papists! idolaters!" when they attempted to force an entrance, stones began to fly, and the duke was struck. the barn was rushed, the worshippers fusilladed, and before the duke gave orders to cease firing, sixty-three of the six or seven hundred protestants were slain, and over a hundred wounded. the news of the massacre spread fast; and while it exasperated the huguenots, the romanists hailed it as a victory. the constable de montmorency and the marshal saint andré went out to meet the duke, and the guises entered paris in triumph, escorted by more than three thousand armed men. the protestants began arming themselves, and crowded to paris to place themselves under the orders of the prince of condé. it was feared that the two factions would fight in the streets. the regent with the king retired to fontainebleau. she was afraid of the triumvirs (montmorency, the duke of guise, and marshal saint-andré), and she invited the prince de condé to protect her and her children. condé lost this opportunity of placing himself and his co-religionists in the position of being the support of the throne. the triumvirate, with antoine de bourbon, who now seemed to be their obedient servant, marched on fontainebleau, and compelled the king and the queen mother to return to paris. catherine believed that the protestants had abandoned her, and turned to the romanists. the example of massacre given at vassy was followed in many places where the romanists were in a majority. in paris, sens, rouen, and elsewhere, the protestant places of worship were attacked, and many of the worshippers slain. at toulouse, the protestants shut themselves up in the capitol, and were besieged by the romanists. they at last surrendered, trusting to a promise that they would be allowed to leave the town in safety. the promise was not kept, and three thousand men, women, and children were slain in cold blood. this slaughter, in violation of oath, was celebrated by the roman catholics of toulouse in centenary festivals, which were held in , in , and would have been celebrated in had the government of napoleon iii. not interfered to forbid it. these massacres provoked reprisals. the huguenots broke into the romanist churches, tore down the images, defaced the altars, and destroyed the relics. § . _the beginning of the wars of religion._ gradually the parties faced each other with the duke of guise and the constable montmorency at the head of the romanists, and the prince of condé and admiral coligny at the head of the huguenots. france became the scene of a civil conflict, where religious fanaticism added its cruelties to the ordinary barbarities of warfare. the venetian ambassador, writing home to the chiefs of his state, was of opinion that this first war of religion prevented france from becoming protestant. the cruelties of the romanists had disgusted a large number of frenchmen, who, though they had no great sympathy for the protestant faith, would have gladly allied themselves with a policy of toleration. the huguenot chiefs themselves saw that the desecration of churches did not serve the cause they had at heart. calvin and de bèze wrote, energetically urging their followers to refrain from attacks on churches, images, and relics. but it was all to no purpose. at orléans, coligny and condé heard that their men were assaulting the church of the holy spirit. they hastened there, and condé saw a huguenot soldier on the roof of the church about to cast an image to the ground. seizing an arquebus, he pointed it at the man, and ordered him to desist and come down. the soldier did not stop his work for an instant. "sire," he said, "have patience with me until i destroy this idol, and then let me die if it be your pleasure." when men were content to die rather than refrain from iconoclasm, it was in vain to expect to check it. somehow the slaughter of men made less impression than the sack of churches, and moderate men came to the opinion that if the huguenots prevailed, they would be as intolerant as the romanists had been. the rising tide of sympathy for the persecuted protestants was checked by these deeds of violence. the progress of the war was upon the whole unfavourable to the huguenots, and in the beginning of both parties were exhausted. the constable montmorency had been captured by the huguenots, and the prince de condé by the romanists. the duke of guise was shot from behind by a huguenot, and died six days later (feb. th, ). the marshal saint-andré and antoine de bourbon had both died during the course of the war. catherine de' medici was everywhere recognised as the head of the romanist party. she no longer needed the protestants to counterbalance the guises and the constable. she could now pursue her own policy. from this time forward she was decidedly hostile to the huguenots. she had learned the resources and popularity of the romanists. but she disliked fighting, and the religious war was ruining france. her idea was that it would be necessary to tolerate the protestants, but impossible to grant them common rights with the romanists. she applied herself to win over the prince de condé, who was tired of his captivity. negotiations were opened. catherine, the constable, condé, and d'andelot met at orléans; and, after discussion, terms were agreed upon (march th), and the edict of amboise incorporating them was published (march th, ). condé had asked for the restitution of the edict of jan. th, , and the strict enforcement of its terms. this was refused. the terms of the new edict were as favourable for men of good birth, but not for others. condé had to undergo the reproaches of coligny, that he had secured rights for himself but had betrayed his poorer brethren in the faith; and that he had destroyed by his signature more churches than the united forces of romanism had done in ten years. calvin spoke of him as a poor prince who had betrayed god for his own vanity. the truce, for it was no more than a truce, concluded by the edict of amboise lasted nearly five years. it was broken by the huguenots, who were suspicious that catherine was plotting with the duke of alva against them. alva was engaged in a merciless attempt to exterminate the protestants of the low countries, and catherine had been at pains to provide provisions for his troops. the protestant leaders came to the desperate conclusion to imitate the triumvirate in , and seize upon the king's person. they failed, and their attempt began the second war of religion. the indecisive battle of saint denis was fought on nov. th, , and the constable montmorency fell in the fight. both parties were almost exhausted, and the terms of peace were the same as those in the edict of amboise. the close of this second war of religion saw a determined attempt, mainly directed by the jesuits, to inspire the masses of france with enthusiasm for the roman catholic church. eloquent preachers traversed the land, who insisted on the antiquity of the roman and the novelty of the protestant faith. brotherhoods were formed, and enrolled men of all sorts and conditions of life sworn to bear arms against every kind of heresy. outrages and assassinations of protestants were common; and the government appeared indifferent. it was, however, the events in the low countries which again alarmed the protestants. the duke of alva, who had begun his rule there with an appearance of gentleness, had suddenly seized and executed the counts egmont and horn. he had appointed a commission to judge the leaders and accomplices in the earlier rising--a commission which from its deeds gained for itself the name of the tribunal of blood. huguenot soldiers hastened to enrol themselves in the levies which the prince of orange was raising for the deliverance of his countrymen. but the huguenot leaders had other thoughts. was catherine meaning to treat them as alva had treated egmont and horn? they found that they were watched. the suspicion and suspense became intolerable. coligny and condé resolved to take refuge in la rochelle. as they passed through the country they were joined by numbers of huguenots, and soon became a small army. their followers were eager to avenge the murders committed on those of their faith, and pillage and worse marked the track of the army. condé and the admiral punished some of their marauding followers by death; and this, says the chronicler, "made the violence of the soldier more secret if not more rare." d'andelot had collected his normans and bretons. jeanne d'albret had roused her gascons and the provençals, and appeared with her son, henry of navarre, a boy of fifteen, at the head of her troops. she published a manifesto to justify her in taking up arms. in the camp at la rochelle she was the soul of the party, fired their passions, and sustained their courage.[ ] in the war which followed, the huguenots were unfortunate. at the battle of jarnac, condé's cavalry was broken by a charge on their flank made by the german mercenaries under tavannes. he fought till he was surrounded and dismounted. after he had surrendered he was brutally shot in cold blood. the huguenots soon rallied at cognac, where the queen of navarre joined them. she presented her son and her nephew, young henry of condé, to the troops, and was received with acclamations. young henry of navarre was proclaimed head of the party, and his cousin, henry of condé, a boy of the same age, was associated with him. the war went on. the battle of moncontour ended in the most disastrous defeat the huguenots had ever sustained. catherine de' medici thought that she had them at her mercy, and proposed terms of submission which would have left them liberty of conscience but denied the right to worship. the heroic queen of navarre declared that the names of jeanne and henry would never appear on a treaty containing these conditions; and coligny, like his contemporary, william the silent, was never more dangerous than after a defeat. the huguenots announced themselves ready to fight to the last; and catherine, to her astonishment, saw them stronger than ever. an armistice was arranged, and the edict of saint-germain (aug. th, ) published the terms of peace. it was more favourable to the huguenots than any earlier one. they were guaranteed freedom of conscience throughout the whole kingdom. they had the liberty of public worship in all places where it had been practised before the war, in the suburbs of at least two towns in every government, and in the residences of the great nobles. four strongly fortified towns--la rochelle, montauban, cognac, and la charité--were to be held by them as pledges for at least two years. the king withdrew himself from the spanish alliance and the international policy of the suppression of the protestants. william of orange and ludovic of nassau were declared to be his friends, in spite of the fact that they were the rebel subjects of philip of spain and had assisted the huguenots in the late war. after the peace of saint-germain, coligny, now the only great leader left to the huguenots, lived far from the court at la rochelle, acting as the guardian of the two young bourbon princes, henry of navarre and henry of condé. he occupied himself in securing for the reformed the advantages they had won in the recent treaty of peace. catherine de' medici had begun to think of strengthening herself at home and abroad by matrimonial alliances. she wished one of her sons, whether the duke of anjou or the duke of alençon it mattered little to her, to marry elizabeth of england, and her daughter marguerite to espouse the young king of navarre. both designs meant that the huguenots must be conciliated. they were in no hurry to respond to her advances. both coligny and jeanne d'albret kept themselves at a distance from the court. suddenly the young king, charles ix., seemed to awaken to his royal position. he had been hitherto entirely submissive to his mother, expending his energies now in hunting, now in lock-making; but, if one can judge from what awakened him, cherishing a sullen grudge against philip of spain and his pretensions to guide the policy of roman catholic europe. pope pius v. had made cosmo de' medici, the ruler of florence, a grand duke, and philip of spain and maximilian of austria had protested. cosmo sent an agent to win the german protestants to side with him against maximilian, and to engage the dutch protestants to make trouble in the netherlands. charles saw the opportunity of gratifying his grudge, and entered eagerly into the scheme. his wishes did not for the time interfere with his mother's plans. if her marriage ideas were to succeed, she must break with spain. coligny saw the advantages which might come to his fellow-believers in the netherlands--help in money from italy and with troops from france. he resolved to make his peace with catherine, respond to her advances, and betake himself to court. he was graciously received, for catherine wished to make use of him; was made a member of the council, received a gift of one hundred and fifty thousand livres, and, although a heretic, was put into possession of an abbey whose revenues amounted to twenty thousand livres a year. the protestant chiefs were respectfully listened to when they stated grievances, and these were promptly put right, even at the risk of exasperating the romanists. the somewhat unwilling consent of jeanne d'albret was won to the marriage of her son with marguerite, and she herself came to paris to settle the terms of contract. there she was seized with pleurisy, and died--an irreparable loss to the protestant cause. catherine's home policy had been successful. but elizabeth of england was not to be enticed either into a french marriage or a stable french alliance, and catherine de' medici saw that her son's scheme might lead to france being left to confront spain alone; and the spain of the sixteenth century played the part of russia in the end of the nineteenth--fascinating the statesmen of the day with its gloomy, mysterious, incalculable power. she felt that she must detach charles at whatever cost from his scheme of flouting philip by giving assistance to the protestants of the low countries. coligny was in her way--recognised to be the greatest statesman in france, enthusiastically bent on sending french help to his struggling co-religionists, and encouraging charles ix. coligny must be removed. the guises were at deadly feud with him, and would be useful in putting him out of the way. the ambassador of florence reported significantly conferences between catherine and the duchess de nemours, the mother of the guises (july rd, ). the queen had secret interviews with maureval, a professional bravo, who drew a pension as "tueur du roy." nothing could be done until henry, now king of navarre by his mother's death, was safely married to marguerite. the wedding took place on august th, . on friday (aug. nd), between ten and eleven o'clock, coligny left the louvre to return to his lodging. the assassin was stationed in a house belonging to a retainer of the guises, at a grated window concealed by a curtain. the admiral was walking slowly, reading a letter. suddenly a shot carried away the index finger of his right hand and wounded his left arm. he calmly pointed to the window from whence the shot had come; and some of his suite rushed to the house, but found nothing but a smoking arquebus. the news reached the king when he was playing tennis. he became pallid, threw down his racquet, and went to his rooms. catherine closeted herself with the duke of anjou to discuss a situation which was fraught with terror.[ ] § . _the massacre of st. bartholomew._ paris was full of huguenot gentlemen, drawn from all parts of the country for the wedding of their young chief with the princess marguerite. they rushed to the house in which coligny lay. the young king of navarre and his cousin, henry de condé, went to the king to demand justice, which charles promised would be promptly rendered. coligny asked to see the king, who proposed to go at once. catherine feared to leave the two alone, and accompanied him, attended by a number of her most trusty adherents. even the duke of guise was there. the king by coligny's bedside swore again with a great oath that he would avenge the outrage in a way that it would never be forgotten. a commission was appointed to inquire into the affair, and they promptly discovered that retainers of the guises were implicated. if the investigations were pursued in the king's temper, guise would probably seek to save himself by revealing catherine's share in the attempted assassination. she became more and more a prey to terror. the huguenots grew more and more violent. at last catherine, whether on her own initiative or prompted by others will never be known, believed that she could only save herself by a prompt and thorough massacre of the huguenots, gathered in unusual numbers in paris.[ ] she summoned a council (aug. rd), at which were present, so far as is known, the duke of anjou, her favourite son, afterwards henry iii., marshal tavannes, nevers, nemours (the stepfather of the guises), birago (chancellor), the count de retz, and the chevalier d'angoulême--four of them italians. they were unanimous in advising an instant massacre. tavannes and nevers, it is said, pled for and obtained the lives of the two young bourbons, the king of navarre and the prince de condé. the count de retz, who was a favourite with charles, was engaged to win the king's consent by appealing to his fears, and by telling him that his mother and brother were as deeply implicated as guise. night had come down before the final resolution was taken; but the fanatical and bloodthirsty mob of paris might be depended upon. at the last moment, tavannes (the son) tells us in his memoirs, catherine wished to draw back, but the others kept her firm. the duke of guise undertook to slay coligny. the admiral was run through with a pike, and the body tossed out of the window into the courtyard where guise was waiting. at the louvre the young bourbon princes were arrested, taken to the king, and given their choice between death and the mass. the other huguenot gentlemen who were in the louvre were slain. in the morning the staircases, balls, and anti-chambers of the palace were deeply stained with blood. when the murders had been done in the louvre, the troops divided into parties and went to seek other victims. almost all the huguenot gentlemen on the north side of the river were slain, and all in the quartier latin. but some who lodged on the south side (among them montgomery, and jean de ferrières, the vidame de chartres) escaped. orders were sent to complete the massacre in the provinces. at orléans the slaughter lasted five days, and protestants were slain in numbers at meaux, troyes, rouen, lyons, toulouse, bordeaux, and in many other places. the total number of victims has been variously estimated. sully, the prime minister of henry iv., who had good means of knowing, says that seventy thousand perished. several thousands were slain in paris alone. the news was variously received by roman catholic europe. the german romanists, including the emperor, were not slow to express their disapprobation. but rome was illuminated in honour of the event, a medal was struck to commemorate the _hugonotorum strages_,[ ] and cardinal orsini was sent to convey to the king and queen mother the congratulations of the pope and the college of cardinals. philip of spain was delighted, and is said to have laughed outright for the first and last time in his life. he congratulated the son on having such a mother, and the mother on having such a son. catherine herself believed that the massacre had ended all her troubles. the huguenots had been annihilated, she thought; and it is reported that when she saw henry of navarre bowing to the altar she burst out into a shrill laugh. § . _the huguenot resistance after the massacre._ catherine's difficulties were not ended. it was not so easy to exterminate the huguenots. most of the leaders had perished, but the people remained, cowed for a time undoubtedly, but soon to regain their courage. the protestants held the strongholds of la rochelle and sancerre, the one on the coast and the other in central france. the artisans and the small shopkeepers insisted that there should be no surrender. the sailors of la rochelle fraternised with the sea-beggars of brill, and waged an implacable sea-war against the ships of spain. nimes and montauban closed their gates against the soldiers of the king. milhaud, aubenas, privas, mirabel, anduze, sommières, and other towns of the viverais and of the cevennes became cities of refuge. all over france, the huguenots, although they had lost their leaders, kept together, armed themselves, communicated with each other, maintained their religious services--though compelled generally to meet at night. the attempt to capture these protestant strongholds made the fourth religious war. la rochelle was invested, beat back many assaults, was blockaded and endured famine, and in the end compelled its enemies to retire from its walls. sancerre was less fortunate. after the failure of an attempt to take it by assault, la châtre, the general of the besieging army, blockaded the town in the closest fashion. the citizens endured all the utmost horrors of famine. five hundred adults and all the children under twelve years of age died of hunger. "why weep," said a boy of ten, "to see me die of hunger? i do not ask bread, mother: i know that you have none. since god wills that i die, thus we must accept it cheerfully. was not that good man lazarus hungry? have i not so read in the bible?" the survivors surrendered: their lives were spared; and on payment of a ransom of forty thousand livres the town was not pillaged. the war ended with the peace of rochelle (july ), when liberty of conscience was accorded to all, but the right of public worship was permitted only to rochelle, nimes, montauban, and in the houses of some of the principal protestant nobles. these terms were hard in comparison with the rights which had been won before the massacre of saint bartholomew; but the huguenots had reason for rejoicing. their cause was still alive. neither war, nor massacre, nor frauds innumerable had made any impression on the great mass of the french protestants. the peace declared by the treaty of la rochelle did not last long, and indeed was never universal. the protestants of the south used it to prepare for a renewal of conflict. they remained under arms, perfecting their military organisation. they divided the districts which they controlled into regular governments, presided over by councils whose members were elected and were the military leaders of a protestant nation for the time being separate from the kingdom of france. they imposed taxes on romanists and protestants, and confiscated the ecclesiastical revenues. they were able to stock their strongholds with provisions and munitions of war, and maintain a force of twenty thousand men ready for offensive action. their councils at nimes and montauban formulated the conditions under which they would submit to the french government. nimes sent a deputation to the king furnished with a series of written articles, in which they demanded the free exercise of their religion in every part of france, the maintenance at royal expense of huguenot garrisons in all the strongholds held by them, and the cession of two strong posts to be cities of refuge in each of the provinces of france. the demands of the council of montauban went further. they added that the king must condemn the massacre of st. bartholomew, execute justice on those who had perpetrated it, reverse the sentences passed on all the victims, approve of the huguenot resistance, and declare that he praised _la singulière et admirable bonté de dieu_ who had still preserved his protestant subjects. they required also that the rights of the protestant minority in france should be guaranteed by the protestant states of europe--by the german protestant princes, by switzerland, england, and scotland. they dated their document significantly august th--the anniversary of the massacre of st. bartholomew. the deputies refused to discuss these terms; they simply presented them. the king might accept them; he might refuse them. they were not to be modified. catherine was both furious and confounded at the audacity of these "rascals" (_ces misérables_), as she called them. she declared that condé, if he had been at the head of twenty thousand cavalry and fifty thousand infantry, would never have asked for the half of what these articles demanded. the queen mother found herself face to face with men on whom she might practise all her arts in vain, very different from the _debonnaire_ huguenot princes whom she had been able to cajole with feminine graces and enervate with her "flying squadron." these farmers, citizens, artisans knew her and her court, and called things by rude names. she herself was a "murderess," and her "flying squadron" were "fallen women." she had cleared away the huguenot aristocracy to find herself in presence of the protestant democracy. the worst of it was that she dared not allow the king to give them a decided answer. a new force had been rising in france since saint bartholomew's day--the _politiques_,[ ] as they were called. they put france above religious parties, and were weary of the perpetual bloodshed; they said that "a man does not cease to be a citizen because he is excommunicated"; they declared that "with the men they had lost in the religious wars they could have driven spain out of the low countries." they chafed under the rule of "foreigners," of the queen mother and her italians, of the guises and their jesuits. they were prepared to unite with the huguenots in order to give france peace. they only required leaders who could represent the two sides of the coalition. if the duke of alençon, the youngest brother of the king, and henry of navarre could escape from the court and raise their standards together, they were prepared to join them. charles ix. died on whitsunday of a disease which the tainted blood of the valois and the médicis induced. the memories of saint bartholomew also hastened his death. private memoirs of courtiers tell us that in his last weeks of fever he had frightful dreams by day and by night. he saw himself surrounded by dead bodies; hideous faces covered with blood thrust themselves forward towards his. the crime had not been so much his as his mother's, but _he_ had something of a conscience, and felt its burden. "et ma mère" was his last word--an appeal to his mother, whom he feared more than his god. on charles' death, henry, duke of anjou, succeeded as henry iii.[ ] he was in poland--king of that distracted country. he abandoned his crown, evaded his subjects, and reached france in september . his advent did not change matters much. catherine still ruled in reality. the war went on with varying success in different parts of france. but the duke of anjou (the duke of alençon took this title on his brother's accession) succeeded in escaping from court (sept. th, ), and the king of navarre also managed to elude his guardians (feb. rd, ). anjou joined the prince of condé, who was at the head of a mixed force of huguenots and politiques. henry of navarre went into poitou and remained there. his first act was to attend the protestant worship, and immediately afterwards he renounced his forced adhesion to romanism. he did not join any of the parties in the field, but sent on his own demands to be forwarded to the king along with those of the confederates, adding to them the request that the king should aid him to recover the spanish part of navarre which had been forcibly annexed to spain by ferdinand of aragon. the escape of the two princes led in the end to the "peace of monsieur," the terms of which were published in the edict of beaulieu (may th, ). the right of public worship was given to protestants in all towns and places within the kingdom of france, paris only and towns where the court was residing being excepted. protestants received eight strongholds, partly as cities of refuge and partly as guarantees. chambers of justice "mi-parties" (composed of both protestants and roman catholics) were established in each parliament. the king actually apologised for the massacre of saint bartholomew, and declared that it had happened to his great regret; and all sentences pronounced on the victims were reversed. this edict was much more favourable to the protestants than any that had gone before. almost all the huguenots' demands had been granted. § . _the beginnings of the league._ neither the king, who felt himself humiliated, nor the romanists, who were indignant, were inclined to submit long to the terms of peace. some of the romanist leaders had long seen that the huguenot enthusiasm and their organisation were enabling an actual minority to combat, on more than equal terms, a romanist majority. some of the provincial leaders had been able to inspire their followers with zeal, and to bind them together in an organisation by means of leagues. these provincial leagues suggested a universal organisation, which was fostered by henry, duke of guise, and by catherine de' medici. this was the first form of that celebrated league which gave twenty years' life to the civil war in france. the duke of guise published a declaration in which he appealed to all france to associate together in defence of the holy church, catholic and roman, and of their king henry iii., whose authority and rights were being taken from him by rebels. all good catholics were required to join the association, and to furnish arms for the accomplishment of its designs. those who refused were to be accounted enemies. neutrals were to be harassed with "toutes sortes d'offences et molestes"; open foes were to be fought strenuously. paris was easily won to the league, and agents were sent abroad throughout france to enrol recruits. henry iii. himself was enrolled, and led the movement. the king had summoned the states general to meet at blois and hold their first session there on dec. th, . the league had attended to the elections, and the estates declared unanimously for unity of religion. upon this the king announced that the edict of beaulieu had been extracted from him by force, and that he did not intend to keep it. two of the estates, the clergy and the nobles, were prepared to compel unity at any cost. the third estate was divided. a minority wished the unity brought about "by gentle and pacific ways"; the majority asked for the immediate and complete suppression of the public worship of the protestants, and for the banishment of all ministers, elders, and deacons. these decisions of the states general were taken by the huguenots as a declaration of war, and they promptly began to arm themselves. it was the first war of the league, and the sixth of religion. it ended with the peace of bergerac (sept. th, ), in which the terms granted to the huguenots were rather worse than those of the edict of beaulieu. a seventh war ensued, terminated by the peace of fleix (nov. ). the duke of anjou died (june th, ), and the king had no son. the heir to the throne, according to the salic law, which excluded females, was henry of navarre, a protestant. on the death of anjou, henry iii. found himself face to face with this fact. he knew and felt that he was the guardian of the dynastic rights of the french throne, and that his duty was to acknowledge henry of navarre as his successor. he accordingly sent one of his favourites, Éperon, to prevail upon henry of navarre to become a roman catholic and come to court. henry refused to do either. § . _the league becomes disloyal._[ ] meanwhile the romanist nobles were taking their measures. some of them met at nancy towards the close of to reconstruct the league. they resolved to exclude the protestant bourbons from the throne, and proclaim the cardinal bourbon as the successor of henry iii. they hoped to obtain a bull from the pope authorising this selection; and they received the support of philip of spain in the treaty of joinville (dec. st, ). paris did not wait for the sanction or recommendation of the nobles. a contemporary anonymous pamphlet, which is the principal source of our information, describes how four men, three of them ecclesiastics, met together to found the league of paris. they discussed the names of suitable members, and, having selected a nucleus of trustworthy associates, they proceeded to elect a secret council of eight or nine who were to direct and control everything. the active work of recruiting was superintended by six associates, of whom one, the sieur de la rocheblond, was a member of the secret council. soon all the most fanatical elements of the population of paris belonged to this secret society, sworn to obey blindly the orders of the mysterious council who from a concealed background directed everything. the corporations of the various trades were won to the league; the butchers of paris, for example, furnished a band of fifteen hundred resolute and dangerous men. trusty emissaries were sent to the large towns of france, and secret societies on the plan of the one in paris were formed and affiliated with the mother-society in paris, all bound to execute the orders of the secret council of the capital. the sieur de la rocheblond, whose brain had planned the whole organisation, was the medium of communication with the romanist princes; and through him henry, duke of guise, le balafré as he was called from a scar on his face, was placed in command of this new and formidable instrument, to be wielded as he thought best for the extirpation of the protestantism of france. the king had published an edict forbidding all armed assemblies, and this furnished the leaguers with a pretext for sending forth their manifesto: _déclaration des causes qui ont meu monseigneur le cardinal de bourbon et les pairs, princes, seigneurs, villes et communautez catholiques de ce royaume de france: de s'opposer à ceux qui par tous moyens s'efforcent de subvertir la religion catholique et l'estat ( mars )._ it was a skilfully drafted document, setting forth the danger to religion in the foreground, but touching on all the evils and jealousies which had arisen from the favouritism of henry iii. guise at once began to enrol troops and commence open hostilities; and almost all the great towns of france and most of the provinces in the north and in the centre declared for the league. henry iii. was greatly alarmed. with the help of his mother he negotiated a treaty with the leaguers, in which he promised to revoke all the earlier edicts of toleration, to prohibit the exercise of protestant public worship throughout the kingdom, to banish the ministers, and to give all protestants the choice between becoming roman catholics or leaving the realm within six months (treaty of nemours, july th, ). these terms were embodied in an edict dated july th, . the pope, sixtus v., thereupon published a bull, which declared that the king of navarre and the prince of condé, being heretics, were incapable of succeeding to the throne of france, deprived them of their estates, and absolved all their vassals from allegiance. the king of navarre replied to "monsieur sixtus, self-styled pope, saving his holiness," and promised to avenge the insult done to himself and to the _parlements_ of france. "the war of the three henrys," from henry iii., henry of guise, and henry of navarre, began in the later months of . it was in some respects a triangular fight; for although the king and the guises were both ostensibly combating the huguenots, the leaguers, headed by guises, and the loyalists, were by no means whole-hearted allies. it began unfavourably for the protestants, but as it progressed the skilful generalship of the king of navarre became more and more apparent--at coutras (oct. th, ) he almost annihilated the royalist army. the king made several ineffectual attempts to win the protestant leader to his side. navarre would never consent to abjure his faith, and henry iii. made that an absolute condition. while the war was going on in the west and centre of france, the league was strengthening its organisation and perfecting its plans. it had become more and more hostile to henry iii., and had become a secret revolutionary society. it drafted a complete programme for the immediate future. the cities and districts of france which felt themselves specially threatened by the huguenots were to beseech the king to raise levies for their protection. if he refused or procrastinated, they were to raise the troops themselves, to be commanded by officers in whom the league had confidence. they could then compel the king to place himself at the head of this army of the leaguers, or show himself to be their open enemy by refusing. if the king died childless, the partisans of the league were to gather at orléans and paris, and were there to elect the cardinal de bourbon as the king of france. the pope and the king of spain were to be at once informed, when it had been arranged that his holiness would send his benediction, and that his majesty would assist them with troops and supplies. a new form of oath was imposed on all the associates of the league. they were to swear allegiance to the king so long as he should show himself to be a good catholic and refrained from favouring heretics. these instructions were sent down from the mother-society in paris to the provinces, and the affiliated societies were recommended to keep in constant communication with paris. madame de montpensier, sister to the guises, at the same time directed the work of a band of preachers whose business it was to inflame the minds of the people in the capital and the provinces against the king and the huguenots. she boasted that she did more work for the cause than her brothers were doing by the sword. the guises, with this force behind them, tried to force the king to make new concessions--to publish the decisions of the council of trent in france (a thing that had not been done); to establish the inquisition in france; to order the execution of all huguenot prisoners who would not promise to abjure their religion; and to remove from the armies all officers of whom the league did not approve. the mother-society in paris prepared for his refusal by organising a secret revolutionary government for the city. it was called "the sixteen," being one for each of the sixteen sections of paris. this government was under the orders of guise, who communicated with them through an agent of his called mayneville. plot after plot was made to get possession of the king's person; and but for the activity and information of nicholas poulain, an officer of police who managed to secure private information, they would have been successful. § . _the day of barricades._[ ] the king redoubled his guards, and ordered four thousand swiss troops which he had stationed at lagny into the suburbs of paris. the parisian leaguers in alarm sent for the duke of guise; and guise, in spite of a prohibitive order from the king, entered the city. when he was recognised he was received with acclamations by the parisian crowd. the queen-mother induced the king to receive him, which he did rather ungraciously. officers and men devoted to the league crowded into paris. the king, having tried in vain to prevent the entry of all suspected persons, at last ordered the swiss into paris (may th, ). the citizens flew to arms, and converted paris into a stronghold. it was "the day of barricades." chains were stretched across the streets, and behind them were piled beams, benches, carts, great barrels filled with stones or gravel. houses were loop-holed and windows protected. behind these defences men were stationed with arquebuses; and the women and children were provided with heaps of stones. guise had remained in his house, but his officers were to be seen moving through the crowds and directing the defence. the swiss troops found themselves caught in a trap, and helpless. henry iii. was compelled to ask guise to interfere in order to save his soldiers. the king had to undergo further humiliation. the citizens proposed to attack the louvre and seize the king's person. guise had to be appealed to again. he had an interview with the king on the th, at which henry iii. was forced to agree to all the demands of the league, and to leave the conduct of the war against the huguenots in the hands of the leader of the league. after the interview the king was able to escape secretly from paris. the day of the "barricades" had proved to henry iii. that the league was master in his capital. the meeting of the states general at blois (oct. ) was to show him that the country had also turned against him. the elections had been looked after by the guises, and had taken place while the impression produced by the revolt of paris was at its height. the league commanded an immense majority in all the three estates. the business before them was grave. the finances of the kingdom were in disorder; favouritism had not been got rid of; and no one could trust the king's word. above all, the religious question was embittering every mind. the estates met under the influence of a religious exaltation fanned by the priests. on the th of oct. representatives of the three estates went to mass together. during the communion the assistant clergy chanted the well-known hymns,--_pange lingua gloriosi, o salutaris hostia, ave verum corpus natum_,--and the excitement was immense. the members of the estates had never been so united. yet the king had a moment of unwonted courage. he had resolved to denounce the league as the source of the disorders in the kingdom. he declared that he would not allow a league to exist within the realm. he only succeeded in making the leaders furious. his bravado soon ceased. the cardinal de bourbon compelled him to omit from the published version of his speech the objectionable expressions. the estates forced him to swear that he would not permit any religion within the kingdom but the roman. this done, he was received with cries of _vive le roi_, and was accompanied to his house with acclamations. but he was compelled to see the duke of guise receive the office of lieutenant-general, which placed the army under his command; and he felt that he would never be "master in his own house" until that man had been removed from his path. the news of the completeness of the destruction of the armada had been filtering through france; the fear of spain was to some extent removed, and england might help the king if he persisted in a policy of tolerating his protestant subjects. it is probable that he confided his project of getting rid of guise to some of his more intimate councillors, and that they assured him that it would be impossible to remove such a powerful subject by legal means. the duke and his brother the cardinal of guise were summoned to a meeting of the council. they had scarcely taken their seats when they were asked to see the king in his private apartments. there guise was assassinated, and the cardinal arrested, and slain the next day.[ ] the cardinal de bourbon and the young prince de joinville (now duke of guise by his father's death) were arrested and imprisoned. orders were given to arrest the duchess of nemours (guise's mother), the duke and duchess of elboeuf, the count de brissac, and other prominent leaguers. the king's guards invaded the sittings of the states general to carry out these orders. the bodies of the two guises were burnt, and the ashes thrown into the loire. the news of the assassination raised the wildest rage in paris. the league proclaimed itself a revolutionary society. the city organised itself in its sections. a council was appointed for each section to strengthen the hands of the "sixteen." preachers caused their audiences to swear that they would spend the last farthing in their purses and the last drop of blood in their bodies to avenge the slaughtered princes. the sorbonne in solemn conclave declared that the actions of henry iii. had absolved his subjects from their allegiance. the "sixteen" drove from _parlement_ all suspected persons; and, thus purged, the _parlement_ of paris ranged itself on the side of the revolution. the duke of mayenne, the sole surviving brother of henry of guise, was summoned to paris. an assembly of the citizens of the capital elected a _council general of the union of catholics_ to manage the affairs of the state and to confer with all the catholic towns and provinces of france. deputies sent by these towns and provinces were to be members of the council. the duke of mayenne was appointed by the council the _lieutenant-general of the state and crown of france_. the new government had its seal--_the seal of the kingdom of france_. the larger number of the great towns of france adhered to this provisional and revolutionary government. in the midst of these tumults catherine de' medici died (jan. th, ). § . _the king takes refuge with the huguenots._ the miserable king had no resource left but to throw himself upon the protection of the protestants. he hesitated at first, fearing threatened papal excommunication. henry of navarre's bearing during these months of anxiety had been admirable. after the meeting of the states general at blois, he had issued a stirring appeal to the nation, pleading for peace--the one thing needed for the distracted and fevered country. he now assured the king of his loyalty, and promised that he would never deny to roman catholics that liberty of conscience and worship which he claimed. a treaty was arranged, and the king of navarre went to meet henry iii. at tours. he arrived just in time. mayenne at the head of an avenging army of leaguers had started as soon as the provisional government had been established in paris. he had taken by assault a suburb of the town, and was about to attack the city of tours itself, when he found the protestant vanguard guarding the bridge over the loire, and had to retreat. he was slowly forced back towards paris. the battle of senlis, in which a much smaller force of huguenots routed the duke d'aumale, who had been reinforced by the parisian militia, opened the way to paris. the king of navarre pressed on. town after town was taken, and the forces of the two kings, increased by fourteen thousand swiss and germans, were soon able to seize the bridge of st. cloud and invest the capital on the south and west (july th, ). an assault was fixed for aug. nd. since the murder of the guises, paris had been a caldron of seething excitement. the whole population, "_avec douleur et gemissements bien grands_," had assisted at the funeral service for "the martyrs," and the baptism of the posthumous son of the slaughtered duke had been a civic ceremony. the bull "monitory" of pope sixtus v., posted up in rome on may th, which directed henry iii. on pain of excommunication to release the imprisoned prelates within ten days, and to appear either personally or by proxy within sixty days before the curia to answer for the murder of a prince of the church, had fanned the excitement. almost every day the parisians saw processions of students, of women, of children, defiling through their streets. they marched from shrine to shrine, with naked feet, clad only in their shirts, defying the cold of winter. parishioners dragged their priests out of bed to head nocturnal processions. the hatred of henry iii. became almost a madness. the cordeliers decapitated his portraits. parish priests made images of the king in wax, placed them on their altars, and practised on them magical incantations, in the hope of doing deadly harm to the living man. bands of children carried lighted candles, which they extinguished to cries of, "_god extinguish thus the race of the valois._" among the most excited members of this fevered throng was a young jacobin monk, jacques clément, by birth a peasant, of scanty intelligence, and rough, violent manners. his excitement grew with the perils of the city. he consulted a theologian in whom he had confidence, and got from him a guarded answer that it might be lawful to slay a tyrant. he prayed, fasted, went through a course of maceration of the body. he saw visions. he believed that he heard voices, and that he received definite orders to give his life in order to slay the king. he confided his purpose to friends, who approved of it and helped his preparations. he was able to leave the city, to pass through the beleaguering lines, and to get private audience of the king. he presented a letter, and while henry was reading it stabbed him in the lower part of the body. the deed done, the monk raised himself to his full height, extended his arms to form himself into a crucifix, and received without flinching his deathblow from la guesle and other attendants (aug. st, ).[ ] the king lingered until the following morning, and then expired, commending henry of navarre to his companions as his legitimate successor. the news of the assassination was received in paris with wild delight. the duchess de nemours, the mother of the guises, and the duchess de montpensier, their sister, went everywhere in the streets describing "the heroic act of jacques clément." the former mounted the steps of the high altar in the church of the cordeliers to proclaim the news to the people. the citizens, high and low, brought out their tables into the streets, and they drank, sang, shouted and danced in honour of the news. they swore that they would never accept a protestant king[ ] and the cardinal de bourbon, still a prisoner, was proclaimed as charles x. at tours, on the other hand, the fact that the heir to the throne was a protestant, threw the roman catholic nobles into a state of perplexity. they had no sympathy with the league, but many felt that they could not serve a protestant king. they pressed round the new king, beseeching him to abjure his faith at once. henry refused to do what would humiliate himself, and could not be accepted as an act of sincerity. on the other hand, the nobles of champagne, picardy, and the isle of france sent assurances of allegiance; the duke of montpensier, the husband of the leaguer duchess, promised his support; and the swiss mercenaries declared that they would serve for two months without pay. § . _the declaration of henry iv._[ ] thus encouraged, henry published his famous declaration (aug. th, ). he promised that the roman catholic would remain the religion of the realm, and that he would attempt no innovations. he declared that he was willing to be instructed in its tenets, and that within six months, if it were possible, he would summon a national council. the roman catholics would be retained in their governments and charges; the protestants would keep the strongholds which were at present in their hands; but all fortified places when reduced would be entrusted to roman catholics and none other. this declaration was signed by two princes of the blood, the prince of conti and the duke of montpensier; by three dukes and peers, longueville, luxembourg-piney, and rohan-montbazon; by two marshals of france, biron and d'aumont; and by several great officers. notwithstanding, the defections were serious; all the _parlements_ save that of bordeaux thundered against the heretic king; all the great towns save tours, bordeaux, châlons, langres, compiègne, and clermont declared for the league. the greater part of the kingdom was in revolt. the royalist troops dwindled away. it was hopeless to think of attacking paris, and henry iv. marched for normandy with scarcely seven thousand men. he wished to be on the sea coast in hope of succour from england. the duke of mayenne followed him with an army of thirty thousand men. he had promised to the parisians to throw the "bearnese" into the sea, or to bring him in chains to paris, but it was not so easy to catch the "bearnese." in the series of marches, countermarches, and skirmishes which is known as the battle of arques, the advantage was on the side of the king; and when mayenne attempted to take dieppe by assault, he was badly defeated (sept. th, ). then followed marches and countermarches; the king now threatening paris and then retreating, until at last the royalist troops and the leaguers met at ivry. the king had two thousand cavalry and eight thousand infantry to meet eight thousand cavalry and twelve thousand infantry (including seventeen hundred spanish troops sent by the duke of parma) under the command of mayenne. the battle resulted in a surprising and decisive victory for the king. mayenne and his cousin d'aumale escaped only by the swiftness of their horses (march th, ). it is needless to say much about the war or about the schemes of parties. henry invested paris, and had almost starved it into surrender, when it was revictualled by an army led from the low countries by the duke of parma. henry took town after town, and gradually isolated the capital. in (may th) the old cardinal bourbon (charles x.) died, and the leaguers lost even the semblance of a legitimate king. the more fanatical members of the party, represented by the "sixteen" of paris, would have been content to place france under the dominion of spain rather than see a heretic king. the duke of mayenne had long cherished dreams that the crown might come to him. but the great mass of the influential people of france who had not yet professed allegiance to henry iv. (and many who had) had an almost equal dread of spanish domination and of a heretic ruler. § . _henry iv. becomes a roman catholic._ henry at last resolved to conform to the roman catholic religion as the only means of giving peace to his distracted kingdom. he informed the loyalist archbishop of bourges of his intention to be instructed in the roman catholic religion with a view to conversion. the archbishop was able to announce this at the conference of suresnes, and the news spread instantly over france. with his usual tact, henry wrote with his own hand to several of the parish priests of paris announcing his intention, and invited them to meet him at mantes to give him instruction. at least one of them had been a furious leaguer, and was won to be an enthusiastic loyalist. the ceremony of the reception of henry iv. into the roman catholic church took place at saint denis, about four and a half miles to the north of paris. the scene had all the appearance of some popular festival. the ancient church in which the kings of france had for generations been buried, in which jeanne d'arc had hung up her arms, was decked with splendid tapestries, and the streets leading to it festooned with flowers. multitudes of citizens had come from rebel paris to swell the throng and to shout _vive le roi!_ as henry, escorted by a brilliant procession of nobles and guards, passed slowly to the church. the clergy, headed by the archbishop of bourges, met him at the door. the king dismounted, knelt, swore to live and die in the catholic apostolic and roman religion, and renounced all the heresies which it condemned. the archbishop gave him absolution, took him by the hand and led him into the church. there, kneeling before the high altar, the king repeated his oath, confessed, and communicated. france had now a roman catholic as well as a legitimate king. even if it be admitted that henry iv. was not a man of any depth of religious feeling, the act of abjuration must have been a humiliation for the son of jeanne d'albret. he never was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, and his well-known saying, that "paris was well worth a mass," had as much bitterness in it as gaiety. he had paled with suppressed passion at tours ( ) when the roman catholic nobles had urged him to become a romanist. had the success which followed his arms up to the battle of ivry continued unbroken, it is probable that the ceremony at saint denis would never have taken place. but parma's invasion of france, which compelled the king to raise the siege of paris, was the beginning of difficulties which seemed insurmountable. the dissensions of parties within the realm, and the presence of foreigners on the soil of france (walloon, spanish, neapolitan, and savoyard), were bringing france to the verge of dissolution. henry believed that there was only one way to end the strife, and he sacrificed his convictions to his patriotism. with henry's change of religion the condition of things changed as if by magic. the league seemed to dissolve. tenders of allegiance poured in from all sides, from nobles, provinces, and towns. rheims was still in possession of the guises, and the anointing and crowning took place at chartres (feb. th, ). the manifestations of loyalty increased. on the evening of the day on which henry had been received into the roman catholic church at saint denis, he had recklessly ridden up to the crest of the height of montmartre and looked down on paris, which was still in the hands of the league. the feelings of the parisians were also changing. the league was seamed with dissensions; mayenne had quarrelled with the "sixteen," and the partisans of these fanatics of the league had street brawls with the citizens of more moderate opinions. _parlement_ took courage and denounced the presence of spanish soldiers within the capital. the loyalists opened the way for the royal troops, henry entered paris (march nd), and marched to notre dame, where the clergy chanted the _te deum_. from the cathedral he rode to the louvre through streets thronged with people, who pressed up to his very stirrups to see their king, and made the tall houses re-echo with their loyalist shoutings. such a royal entry had not been seen for generations, and took everyone by surprise. next day the foreign troops left the city. the king watched their departure from an open window in the louvre, and as their chiefs passed he called out gaily, "my compliments to your master. you need not come back." with the return of paris to fealty, almost all signs of disaffection departed; and the king's proclamation of amnesty for all past rebellions completed the conquest of his people. france was again united after thirty years of civil war. § . _the edict of nantes._ the union of all frenchmen to accept henry iv. as their king had not changed the legal position of the protestants. the laws against them were still in force; they had nothing but the king's word promising protection to trust to. the war with spain delayed matters, but when peace was made the time came for henry to fulfil his pledges to his former companions. they had been chafing under the delay. at a general assembly held at mantes (october -january ), the members had renewed their oath to live and to die true to their confession of faith, and year by year a general assembly met to discuss their political disabilities as well as to conduct their ecclesiastical business. they had divided france into nine divisions under provincial synods, and had the appearance to men of that century of a kingdom within a kingdom. they demanded equal civic rights with their roman catholic fellow-subjects, and guarantees for their protection. at length, in , four delegates were appointed with full powers to confer with the king. out of these negotiations came the edict of nantes, the charter of french protestantism. this celebrated edict was drawn up in ninety-five more general articles, which were signed on april th, and in fifty-six more particular articles which were signed on may nd ( ). two _brevets_, dated th and th of april, were added, dealing with the treatment of protestant ministers, and with the strongholds given to the protestants. the articles were verified and registered by _parlements_; the _brevets_ were guaranteed simply by the king's word. the edict of nantes codified and enlarged the rights given to the protestants of france by the edict of poitiers ( ), the convention of nérac ( ), the treaty of fleix ( ), the declaration of saint-cloud ( ), the edict of mantes ( ), the articles of mantes ( ), and the edict of saint-germain ( ). it secured complete liberty of conscience everywhere within the realm, to the extent that no one was to be persecuted or molested in any way because of his religion, nor be compelled to do anything contrary to its tenets; and this carried with it the right of private or secret worship. the full and free right of public worship was granted in all places in which it existed during the years and , or where it had been granted by the edict of poitiers interpreted by the convention of nérac and the treaty of fleix (some two hundred towns); and, in addition, in two places within every _bailliage_ and _sénéchaussée_ in the realm. it was also permitted in the principal castles of protestant _seigneurs hauts justiciers_ (some three thousand), whether the proprietor was in residence or not, and in their other castles, the proprietor being in residence; to nobles who were not _hauts justiciers_, provided the audience did not consist of more than thirty persons over and above relations of the family. even at the court the high officers of the crown, the great nobles, all governors and lieutenants-general, and captains of the guards, had the liberty of worship in their apartments provided the doors were kept shut and there was no loud singing of psalms, noise, or open scandal. protestants were granted full civil rights and protection, entry into all universities, schools, and hospitals, and admission to all public offices. the _parlement_ of paris admitted six protestant councillors. and protestant ministers were granted the exemptions from military service and such charges as the romanist clergy enjoyed. special chambers (_chambres d'Édit_) were established in the _parlements_ to try cases in which protestants were interested. in the _parlement_ of paris this chamber consisted of six specially chosen roman catholics and one protestant; in other _parlements_, the chambers were composed of equal numbers of romanists and protestants (_mi-parties_). the protestants were permitted to hold their ecclesiastical assemblies--consistories, colloquies, and synods, national and provincial; they were even allowed to meet to discuss political questions, provided they first secured the permission of the king. they remained in complete control of two hundred towns, including la rochelle, montauban, and montpellier, strongholds of exceptional strength. they were to retain these places until , but the right was prolonged for five years more. the state paid the expenses of the troops which garrisoned these protestant fortified places; it paid the governors, who were always protestants. when it is remembered that the royal army in time of peace did not exceed ten thousand men, and that the huguenots could raise twenty-five thousand troops, it will be seen that henry iv. did his utmost to provide guarantees against a return to a reign of intolerance. protected in this way, the huguenot church of france speedily took a foremost place among the protestant churches of europe. theological colleges were established at sedan, montauban, and saumur. learning and piety flourished, and french theology was always a counterpoise to the narrow reformed scholastic of switzerland and of holland. chapter v. the reformation in the netherlands.[ ] § . _the political situation._ it was not until that the _united provinces_ took rank as a protestant nation, notwithstanding the fact that the netherlands furnished the first martyrs of the reformation in the persons of henry voes and john esch, augustinian monks, who were burnt at antwerp (july st, ). "as they were led to the stake they cried with a loud voice that they were christians; and when they were fastened to it, and the fire was kindled, they rehearsed the twelve articles of the creed, and after that the hymn _te deum laudamus_, which each of them sang verse by verse alternately until the flames deprived them both of voice and life."[ ] the struggle for religious liberty, combined latterly with one for national independence from spain, lasted therefore for almost sixty years. when the lifelong duel between charles the bold of burgundy and louis xi. of france ended with the death of the former on the battlefield under the walls of nancy (january th, ), louis was able to annex to france a large portion of the heterogeneous possessions of the dukes of burgundy, and mary of burgundy carried the remainder as her marriage portion (may ) to maximilian of austria, the future emperor. speaking roughly, and not quite accurately, those portions of the burgundian lands which had been _fiefs_ of france went to louis, while mary and maximilian retained those which were _fiefs_ of the empire. the son of maximilian and mary, philip the handsome, married juana (august ), the second daughter and ultimate heiress of isabella and ferdinand of spain, and their son was charles v., emperor of germany (b. february th, ), who inherited the netherlands from his father and spain from his mother, and thus linked the netherlands to spain. philip died in , leaving charles, a boy of six years of age, the ruler of the netherlands. his paternal aunt, margaret, the daughter of the emperor maximilian, governed in the netherlands during his minority, and, owing to juana's illness (an illness ending in madness), mothered her brother's children. margaret's regency ended in , and the earlier history of the reformation in the netherlands belongs either to the period of the personal rule of charles or to that of the regents whom he appointed to act for him. the land, a delta of great rivers liable to overflow their banks, or a coast-line on which the sea made continual encroachment, produced a people hardy, strenuous, and independent. their struggles with nature had braced their faculties. municipal life had struck its roots deeply into the soil of the netherlands, and its cities could vie with those of italy in industry and intelligence. the southern provinces were the home of the trouvères.[ ] jan van-ruysbroec, the most heart-searching of speculative mystics, had been a curate of st. gudule's in brussels. his pupil, gerard groot, had founded the lay-community of the brethren of the common lot for the purpose of spreading christian education among the laity; and the schools and convents of the brethren had spread through the netherlands and central germany. thomas à kempis, the author of the _imitatio christi_, had lived most of his long life of ninety years in a small convent at zwolle, within the territories of utrecht. men who have been called "reformers before the reformation," john pupper of goch and john wessel, both belonged to the netherlands. art flourished there in the fifteenth century in the persons of hubert and jan van eyck and of hans memling. the chambers of oratory (_rederijkers_) to begin with probably unions for the performance of miracle plays or moralities, became confraternities not unlike the societies of _meistersänger_ in germany, and gradually acquired the character of literary associations, which diffused not merely culture, but also habits of independent thinking among the people. intellectual life had become less exuberant in the end of the fifteenth century; but the netherlands, nevertheless, produced alexander hegius, the greatest educational reformer of his time, and erasmus the prince of the humanists. nor can the influence of the chambers of oratory have died out, for they had a great effect on the reformation movement.[ ] when charles assumed the government of the netherlands, he found himself at the head of a group of duchies, lordships, counties, and municipalities which had little appearance of a compact principality, and he applied himself, like other princes of his time in the same situation, to give them a unity both political and territorial. he was so successful that he was able to hand over to his son, philip ii. of spain, an almost thoroughly organised state. the divisions which charles largely overcame reappeared to some extent in the revolt against philip and romanism, and therefore in a measure concern the history of the reformation. how charles made his scattered netherland inheritance territorially compact need not be told in detail. friesland was secured ( ); the acquisition of temporal sovereignty over the ecclesiastical province of utrecht ( ) united holland with friesland; gronningen and the lands ruled by that turbulent city placed themselves under the government of charles ( ); and the death of charles of egmont ( ), count of gueldres, completed the unification of the northern and central districts. the vague hold which france kept in some of the southern portions of the country was gradually loosened. charles failed in the south-east. the independent principality of lorraine lay between luxemburg and franche-comté, and the netherland government could not seize it by purchase, treaty, or conquest. one and the same system of law regulated the rights and the duties of the whole population; and all the provinces were united into one principality by the reorganisation of a states general, which met almost annually, and which had a real if vaguely defined power to regulate the taxation of the country. but although political and geographical difficulties might be more or less overcome, others remained which were not so easily disposed of. one set arose from the fact that the seventeen provinces were divided by race and by language. the dutchmen in the north were different in interests and in sentiment from the flemings in the centre; and both had little in common with the french-speaking provinces in the south. the other was due to the differing boundaries of the ecclesiastical and civil jurisdictions. when charles began to rule in , the only territorial see was arras. tournai, utrecht, and cambrai became territorial before the abdication of charles. but the confusion between civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction may be seen at a glance when it is remembered that a great part of the frisian lands were subject to the german sees of münster, minden, paderborn, and osnabrück; and that no less than six bishops, none of them belonging to the netherlands, divided the ecclesiastical rule over luxemburg. charles' proposals to establish six new bishoprics, plans invariably thwarted by the roman curia, were meant to give the low countries a national episcopate. § . _the beginnings of the reformation._ the people of the netherlands had been singularly prepared for the great religious revival of the sixteenth century by the work of the _brethren of the common lot_ and their schools. it was the aim of gerard groot, their founder, and also of florentius radevynszoon, his great educational assistant, to see "that the root of study and the mirror of life must, in the first place, be the gospel of christ." their pupils were taught to read the bible in latin, and the brethren contended publicly for translations of the scriptures in the vulgar tongues. there is evidence to show that the vulgate was well known in the netherlands in the end of the fifteenth century, and a translation of the bible into dutch was published at delft in [ ]. small tracts against indulgences, founded probably on the reasonings of pupper and wessel, had been in circulation before luther had nailed his _theses_ to the door of all saints' church in wittenberg. hendrik of zutphen, prior of the augustinian eremite convent at antwerp, had been a pupil of staupitz, a fellow student with luther, and had spread evangelical teaching not only among his order, but throughout the town.[ ] it need be no matter for surprise, then, that luther's writings were widely circulated in the netherlands, and that between and no fewer than twenty-five translations of the bible or of the new testament had appeared in dutch, flemish, and french. when aleander was in the netherlands, before attending the diet of worms he secured the burning of eighty lutheran and other books at louvain;[ ] and when he came back ten months later, he had regular literary _auto-da-fés_. on charles' return from the diet of worms, he issued a proclamation to all his subjects in the netherlands against luther, his books and his followers, and aleander made full use of the powers it gave. four hundred lutheran books were burnt at antwerp, three hundred of them seized by the police in the stalls of the booksellers, and one hundred handed over by the owners; three hundred were burnt at ghent, "part of them printed here and part in germany," says the legate; and he adds that "many of them were very well bound, and one gorgeously in velvet." about a month later he is forced to confess that these burnings had not made as much impression as he had hoped, and that he wishes the emperor would "burn alive half a dozen lutherans and confiscate their property." such a proceeding would make all see him to be the really christian prince that he is.[ ] next year ( ) charles established the inquisition within the seventeen provinces. it was a distinctively civil institution, and this was perhaps due to the fact that there was little correspondence between the civil and ecclesiastical jurisdictions in the netherlands; but it must not be forgotten that the kings of spain had used the holy office for the purpose of stamping out political and local opposition, and also that the civil courts were usually more energetic and more severe than the ecclesiastical. the man appointed was unworthy of any place of important trust. francis van de hulst, although he had been the prince's counsellor in brabant, was a man accused both of bigamy and murder, and was hopelessly devoid of tact. he quarrelled violently with the high court of holland; and the regent, margaret of austria, who had resumed her functions, found herself constantly compromised by his continual defiance of local privileges. he was a "wonderful enemy to learning," says erasmus. his colleague, nicolas van egmont, a carmelite monk, is described by the same scholar as "a madman with a sword put into his hand who hates me worse than he does luther." the two men discredited the inquisition from its beginning. erasmus affected to believe that the emperor could not know what they were doing. the first victim was cornelius graphæus, town clerk of antwerp, a poet and humanist, a friend of erasmus; and his offence was that he had published an edition of john pupper of goch's book, entitled the _liberty of the christian religion_, with a preface of his own. the unfortunate man was set on a scaffold in brussels, compelled to retract certain propositions which were said to be contained in the preface, and obliged to throw the preface itself into a fire kindled on the scaffold for the purpose. he was dismissed from his office, declared incapable of receiving any other employment, compelled to repeat his recantation at antwerp, imprisoned for two years, and finally banished.[ ] the earliest deaths were those of henry voes and john esch, who have already been mentioned. their prior, hendrik of zutphen, escaped from the dungeon in which he had been confined. luther commemorated them in a long hymn, entitled _a new song of the two martyrs of christ burnt at brussels by the sophists of louvain_: "der erst recht wol johannes heyst, so reych an gottes hulden seyn bruder henrch nach dem geyst, eyn rechter christ on schulden: vonn dysser welt gescheyden synd, sye hand die kron erworben, recht wie die frumen gottes kind fur seyn wort synd gestorben, sein marter synd sye worden."[ ] charles issued proclamation after proclamation, each of increasing severity. it was forbidden to print any books unless they had been first examined and approved by the censors (april st, ). "all open and secret meetings in order to read and preach the gospel, the epistles of st. paul, and other spiritual writings," were forbidden (sept. th, ), as also to discuss the holy faith, the sacraments, the power of the pope and councils, "in private houses and at meals." this was repeated on march th, , and on july th there was issued a long edict, said to have been carefully drafted by the emperor himself, forbidding all meetings to read or preach about the gospel or other holy writings in latin, flemish, or walloon. in the preamble it is said that ignorant persons have begun to expound scripture, that even regular and secular clergy have presumed to teach the "errors and sinister doctrines of luther and his adherents," and that heresies are increasing in the land. then followed edicts against unlicensed books, and against monks who had left their cloisters (jan. th, ); against the possession of lutheran books, commanding them upon pain of death to be delivered up (oct. th, ); against printing unlicensed books--the penalties being a public whipping on the scaffold, branding with a red-iron, or the loss of an eye or a hand, at the discretion of the judge (dec. th, ); against heretics "who are more numerous than ever," against certain books of which a long list is given, and against certain hymns which increase the zeal of the heretics (sept. nd, ); against printing and distributing unlicensed books in the italian, spanish, or english languages (dec. th, ); warning all schoolmasters about the use of unlicensed books in their schools, and giving a list of those only which are permitted (july st, ). the edict of was followed by a long list of prohibited books, among which are eleven editions of the vulgate printed by protestant firms, six editions of the bible and three of the new testament in dutch, two editions of the bible in french, and many others. lastly, an edict of april th, , confirmed all the previous edicts against heresy and its spread, and intimated that the inquisitors would proceed against heretics "notwithstanding any privileges to the contrary, which are abrogated and annulled by this edict." this was a clear threat that the terrible spanish inquisition was to be established in the netherlands, and provoked such remonstrances that the edict was modified twice (sept. th, nov. th) before it was finally accepted as legal within the seventeen provinces. all these edicts were directed against the lutheran or kindred teaching. they had nothing to do with the anabaptist movement, which called forth a special and different set of edicts. it seems against all evidence to say that the persecution of the lutherans had almost ceased during the last years of charles' rule in the netherlands, and philip ii. could declare with almost perfect truth that his edicts were only his father's re-issued. the continuous repetition and increasing severity of the edicts revealed not merely that persecution did not hinder the spread of the reformed faith, but that the edicts themselves were found difficult to enforce. what charles would have done had he been able to govern the country himself it is impossible to say. he became harder and more intolerant of differences in matters of doctrine as years went on, and in his latest days is said to have regretted that he had allowed luther to leave worms alive; and he might have dealt with the protestants of the seventeen provinces as his son afterwards did. his aunt, margaret of austria, who was regent till , had no desire to drive matters to an extremity; and his sister mary, who ruled from till the abdication of charles in , was suspected in early life of being a lutheran herself. she never openly joined the lutheran church as did her sister the queen of denmark, but she confessed her sympathies to charles, and gave them as a reason for reluctance to undertake the regency of the netherlands. it may therefore be presumed that the severe edicts were not enforced with undue stringency by either margaret of austria or by the widowed queen of hungary. there is also evidence to show that these proclamations denouncing and menacing the unfortunate protestants of the netherlands were not looked on with much favour by large sections of the population. officials were dilatory, magistrates were known to have warned suspected persons to escape before the police came to arrest them; even to have given them facilities for escape after sentence had been delivered. passive resistance on the part of the inferior authorities frequently interposed itself between the emperor and the execution of his bloodthirsty proclamations. yet the number of protestant martyrs was large, and women as well as men suffered torture and death rather than deny their faith. the edicts against conventicles deterred neither preachers nor audience. the earliest missioners were priests and monks who had become convinced of the errors of romanism. later, preachers were trained in the south german cities and in geneva, that nursery of daring agents of the reformed propaganda. but if trained teachers were lacking, members of the congregation took their place at the peril of their lives. brandt relates how numbers of people were accustomed to meet for service in a shipwright's yard at antwerp to hear a monk who had been "proclaimed": "the teacher, by some chance or other, could not appear, and one of the company named nicolas, a person well versed in scripture, thought it a shame that such a congregation, hungering after the food of the word, should depart without a little spiritual nourishment; wherefore, climbing the mast of a ship, he taught the people according to his capacity; and on that account, and for the sake of the reward that was set upon the preacher, he was seized by two butchers and delivered to the magistrates, who caused him to be put into a sack and thrown into the river, where he was drowned."[ ] § . _the anabaptists._ the severest persecutions, however, before the rule of philip ii., were reserved for those people who are called the anabaptists.[ ] we find several edicts directed against them solely. in february it was forbidden to harbour anabaptists, and a price of guilders was offered to informants. later in the same year an edict was published which declared "that all who had been rebaptized, were sorry for their fault, and, in token of their repentance, had gone to confession, would be admitted to mercy for that time only, provided they brought a certificate from their confessor within twenty-four days of the date of the edict; those who continued obdurate were to be treated with the utmost rigour of the laws" (feb. ). anabaptists who had abjured were ordered to remain near their dwelling-places for the space of a year, "unless those who were engaged in the herring fishery" (june ). in the severest edict against the sect was published. all who had "seduced or perverted any to this sect, or had rebaptized them," were to suffer death by fire; all who had suffered themselves to be rebaptized, or who had harboured anabaptists, and who recanted, were to be favoured by being put to death by the sword; women were "only to be buried alive."[ ] to understand sympathetically that multiform movement which was called in the sixteenth century _anabaptism_, it is necessary to remember that it was not created by the reformation, although it certainly received an impetus from the inspiration of the age. its roots can be traced back for some centuries, and its pedigree has at least two stems which are essentially distinct, and were only occasionally combined. the one stem is the successions of the _brethren_, a mediæval, anti-clerical body of christians whose history is written only in the records of inquisitors of the mediæval church, where they appear under a variety of names, but are universally said to prize the scriptures and to accept the apostles' creed.[ ] the other existed in the continuous uprisings of the poor--peasants in rural districts and the lower classes in the towns--against the rich, which were a feature of the later middle ages.[ ] so far as the netherlands are concerned, these popular outbreaks had been much more frequent among the towns' population than in the rural districts. the city patriciate ordinarily controlled the magistracy; but when flagrant cases of oppression arose, all the judicial, financial, and other functions of government were sure to be swept out of their hands in an outburst of popular fury. so much was this the case, that the real holders of power in the towns in the netherlands during the first half of the sixteenth century were the artisans, strong in their trade organisations. they had long known their power, and had been accustomed to exert it. the blood of a turbulent ancestry ran in their veins--of men who could endure for a time, but who, when roused by serious oppression, had been accustomed to defend themselves, and to give stroke for stroke. it is only natural to find among the artisans of the flemish and dutch towns a curious mingling of sublime self-sacrifice for what they believed to be the truth, of the mystical exaltation of the martyr occasionally breaking out in hysterical action, and the habit of defending themselves against almost any odds. so far as is known, the earliest anabaptist martyrs were jan walen and two others belonging to waterlandt. they were done to death in a peculiarly atrocious way at the hague in . instead of being burnt alive, they were chained to a stake at some distance from a huge fire, and were slowly roasted to death. this frightful punishment seems to have been reserved for the anabaptist martyrs. it was repeated at haarlem in , when a woman was drowned and her husband with two others was roasted alive. some time in , jan volkertz founded an anabaptist congregation in amsterdam which became so large as to attract the attention of the authorities. the head of the police (_schout_) in the city was ordered to apprehend them. volkertz delivered himself up voluntarily. the greater part of the accused received timely warning from the _schout's_ wife. nine were taken by night in their beds. these with their pastor were carried to the hague and beheaded by express order of the emperor. he also commanded that their heads should be sent to amsterdam, where they were set on poles in a circle, the head of volkertz being in the centre. this ghastly spectacle was so placed that it could be seen from the ships entering and leaving the harbour. all these martyrs, and many others whose deaths are duly recorded, were followers of melchior hoffman. hoffman's views were those of the "brethren" of the later middle ages, the _old evangelicals_ as they were called. in a paper of directions sent to emden to assist in the organisation of an anabaptist congregation there, he says: "god's community knows no head but christ. no other can be endured, for it is a brother- and sisterhood. the teachers have none who rule them spiritually but christ. teachers and ministers are not lords. the pastors have no authority except to preach god's word and punish sins. a bishop must be elected out of his community. where a pastor has thus been taken, and the guidance committed to him and to his deacon, a community should provide properly for those who help to build the lord's house. when teachers are thus found, there is no fear that the communities will suffer spiritual hunger. a true preacher would willingly see the whole community prophesy." but the persecution, with its peculiar atrocities, had been acting in its usual way on the anabaptists of the netherlands. they had been tortured on the rack, scourged, imprisoned in dungeons, roasted to death before slow fires, and had seen their women drowned, buried alive, pressed into coffins too small for their bodies till their ribs were broken, others stamped into them by the feet of the executioners. it is to be wondered at that those who stood firm sometimes gave way to hysterical excesses; that their leaders began to preach another creed than that of passive resistance; that wild apocalyptic visions were reported and believed? melchior hoffman had been imprisoned in strassburg in , and a new leader arose in the netherlands--jan matthys, a baker of haarlem. under his guidance an energetic propaganda was carried on in the dutch towns, and hundreds of converts were made. one hundred persons were baptized in one day in february ( ); before the end of march it was reported that two-thirds of the population in monnikendam were anabaptists; and a similar state of matters existed in many of the larger dutch towns. deventer, zwolle, and kampen were almost wholly anabaptist. the government made great exertions to crush the movement. detachments of soldiers were divided into bands of fifteen or twenty, and patrolled the environs of the cities, making midnight visitations, and haling men and women to prison until the dungeons were overcrowded with captured anabaptists. attempts were made by the persecuted to leave the country for some more hospitable place where they could worship god in peace in the way their consciences directed them. east friesland had once been a haven, but was so no longer. münster offered a refuge. ships were chartered,--thirty of them,--and the persecuted people proposed to sail round the north of friesland, land at the mouth of the ems, and travel to münster by land.[ ] the emperor's ships intercepted the little fleet, sank five of the vessels with all the emigrants on board, and compelled the rest to return. the leaders found on board were decapitated, and their heads stuck on poles to warn others. hundreds from the provinces of guelderland and holland attempted the journey by land. they piled their bits of poor furniture and bundles of clothes on waggons; some rode horses, most trudged on foot, the women and children, let us hope, getting an occasional ride on the waggons. soldiers were sent to intercept them. the leaders were beheaded, the men mostly imprisoned, and the women and children sent back to their towns and villages. then, and not till they had exhausted every method of passive resistance, the anabaptists began to strike back. they wished to seize a town already containing a large anabaptist population, and hold it as a city of refuge. deventer, which was full of sympathisers, was their first aim. the plot failed, and the burgomaster's son willem, one of the conspirators, was seized, and with two companions beheaded in the market-place (dec. th, ). their next attempt was on leyden. it was called a plot to burn the town. the magistrates got word of it, and, by ordering the great town-clock to be stopped, disconcerted the plotters. fifteen men and five women were seized; the men were decapitated, and the women drowned (jan. ). next month (feb. th, ), jan van geelen, leading a band of three hundred refugees through friesland, was overtaken by some troops of soldiers. the little company entrenched themselves, fought bravely for some days, until nearly all were killed. the survivors were almost all captured and put to death, the men by the sword, and the women by drowning. one hundred soldiers fell in the attack. a few months later (may ), an attempt was made to seize amsterdam. it was headed by van geelen, the only survivor of the skirmish in friesland. he and his companions were able to get possession of the stadthaus, and held it against the town's forces until cannon were brought to batter down their defences. in the early days of the same year an incident occurred which shows how, under the strain of persecution, an hysterical exaltation took possession of some of these poor people. it is variously reported. according to brandt, seven men and five women having stript off their clothes, as a sign, they said, that they spoke the naked truth, ran through the streets of amsterdam, crying _woe! woe! woe!_ the wrath of god! they were apprehended, and slaughtered in the usual way. the woman in whose house they had met was hanged at her own door. the insurrections were made the pretext for still fiercer persecutions. the anabaptists were hunted out, tortured and slain without any attempt being made by the authorities to discriminate between those who had and those who had not been sharers in any insurrectionary attempt. it is alleged that over thirty thousand people were put to death in the netherlands during the reign of charles v. many of the victims had no connection with anabaptism whatsoever; they were quiet followers of luther or of calvin. the authorities discriminated between them in their proclamations, but not in the persecution. § . _philip of spain and the netherlands._ how long the netherlands would have stood the continual drain of money and the severity of the persecution which the foreign and religious policy of charles enforced upon them, it is impossible to say. the people of the country were strongly attached to him, as he was to them. he had been born and had grown from childhood to manhood among them. their languages, french and flemish, were the only speech he could ever use with ease. he had been ruler in the netherlands before he became king of spain, and long before he was called to fill the imperial throne. when he resolved to act on his long meditated scheme of abdicating in favour of his son philip, it was to the netherlands that he came. their nobles and people witnessed the scene with hardly less emotion than that which showed itself in the faltering speech of the emperor. the ceremony took place in the great hall of the palace in brussels (oct. th, ), in presence of the delegates of the seventeen provinces. mary, the widowed queen of hungary, who had governed the land for twenty-five years, witnessed the scene which was to end her rule. philip, who was to ruin the work of consolidation patiently planned and executed by his father and his aunt, was present, summoned from his uncongenial task of eating roast beef and drinking english ale in order to conciliate his new subjects across the channel, and from the embarrassing endearments of his elderly spouse. the emperor, aged by toil rather than by years, entered the hall leaning heavily on his favourite page and trusty counsellor, the youthful william, prince of orange, who was to become the leader of the revolt against philip's rule, and to create a new protestant state, the united provinces. the new lord of the netherlands was then twenty-eight. in outward appearance he was a german like his father, but in speech he was a spaniard. he had none of his father's external geniality, and could never stoop to win men to his ends. but philip ii. was much liker charles v. than many historians seem willing to admit. both had the same slow, patient industry--but in the son it was slower; the same cynical distrust of all men; the same belief in the divine selection of the head of the house of hapsburg to guide all things in state and church irrespective of popes or kings--only in the son it amounted to a sort of gloomy mystical assurance; the same callousness to human suffering, and the same utter inability to comprehend the force of strong religious conviction. philip was an inferior edition of his father, succeeding to his father's ideas, pursuing the same policy, using the same methods, but handicapped by the fact that he had not originated but had inherited both, and with them the troubles brought in their train. philip ii. spent the first four years of his reign in the netherlands, and during that short period of personal rule his policy had brought into being all the more important sources of dissatisfaction which ended in the revolt. yet his policy was the same, and his methods were not different from those of his father. in one respect at least charles had never spared the netherlands. that country had to pay, as no other part of his vast possessions was asked to do, the price of his foreign policy, and charles had wrung unexampled sums from his people. when philip summoned the states general (march th, ) and asked them for a very large grant (fl. , , ), he was only following his father's example, and on that occasion was seeking money to liquidate the deficit which his father had bequeathed. was it that the people of the netherlands had resolved to end the practice of making them pay for a foreign policy which had hitherto concerned them little, or was it because they could not endure the young spaniard who could not speak to them in their own language? would charles have been refused as well as philip? who can say? when philip obtained a bull from pope paul iv. for creating a territorial episcopate in the netherlands, he was only carrying out the policy which his father had sketched as early as , and which but for the shortness of the pontificate of hadrian vi. would undoubtedly have been executed in without any popular opposition. charles' scheme contemplated six bishoprics, philip's fourteen; that was the sole difference; and from the ecclesiastical point of view philip's was probably the better. why then the bitter opposition to the change in ? most historians seem to think that had charles been ruling, there would have been few murmurs. is that so certain? the people feared the institution of the bishoprics, because they dreaded and hated an inquisition which would override their local laws, rights, and privileges; and charles had been obliged to modify his "placard" of against heresy, because towns and districts protested so loudly against it. during these early years philip made no alterations on his father's proclamations against heresy. he contented himself with reissuing the "placard" of as that had been amended in after the popular protests. the personality of philip was no doubt objectionable to his subjects in the netherlands, but it cannot be certainly affirmed that had charles continued to reign there would have been no widespread revolt against his financial, ecclesiastical, and religious policy. the regent mary had been finding her task of ruling more and more difficult. a few weeks before the abdication, when the emperor wished his sister to continue in the regency, she wrote to him: "i could not live among these people even as a private citizen, for it would be impossible to do my duty towards god and my prince. as to governing them, i take god to witness that the task is so abhorrent to me that i would rather earn my daily bread by labour than attempt it." in (aug. th), philip left the netherlands never to return. he had selected margaret of parma, his half-sister, the illegitimate daughter of charles v., for regent. margaret had been born and brought up in the country; she knew the language, and she had been so long away from her native land that she was not personally committed to any policy nor acquainted with the leaders of any of the parties. the power of the regent, nominally extensive, was in reality limited by secret instructions.[ ] she was ordered to put in execution the edicts against heresy without any modification; and she was directed to submit to the advice given her by three councils, a command which placed her under the supervision of the three men selected by philip to be the presidents of these councils. the council of state was the most important, and was entrusted with the management of the whole foreign and home administration of the country. it consisted of the bishop of arras (antoine perronet de granvelle, afterwards cardinal de granvelle);[ ] the baron de barlaymont, who was president of the council of finance; vigilius van aytta, a learned lawyer from friesland, "a small brisk man, with long yellow hair, glittering green eyes, fat round rosy cheeks, and flowing beard," who was president of the privy council, and controlled the administration of law and justice; and two of the netherland nobles, lamoral, count of egmont and prince of gavre, and william, prince of orange. the two nobles were seldom consulted or even invited to be present. the three presidents were the _consulta_, or secret body of confidential advisers imposed by philip upon his regent, without whose advice nothing was to be attempted. of the three, the bishop of arras (cardinal de granvelle) was the most important, and the government was practically placed in his hands by his master. behind the _consulta_ was philip ii. himself, who in his business room in the escurial at madrid issued his orders, repressing every tendency to treat the people with moderation and humanity, thrusting aside all suggestions of wise tolerance, and insisting that his own cold-blooded policy should be carried out in its most objectionable details. it was not until the publication of de granvelle's state papers and correspondence that it came to be known how much the bishop of arras has been misjudged by history, how he remonstrated unavailingly with his master, how he was forced to put into execution a sanguinary policy of repression which was repugnant to himself, and how philip compelled him to bear the obloquy of his own misdeeds. the correspondence also reveals the curiously minute information which philip must have privately received, for he was able to send to the regent and the bishop the names, ages, personal appearance, occupations, residence of numbers of obscure people whom he ordered to execution for their religious opinions.[ ] no rigour of persecution seemed able to prevent the spread of the reformation.[ ] the government--margaret and her _consulta_--offended grievously not merely the people, but the nobility of the netherlands. the nobles saw their services and positions treated as things of no consequence, and the people witnessed with alarm that the local charters and privileges of the land--charters and rights which philip at his coronation had sworn to maintain--were totally disregarded. gradually all classes of the population were united in a silent opposition. the prince of orange and count egmont became almost insensibly the leaders. they had been dissatisfied with their position on the council of state; they had no real share in the business; the correspondence was not submitted to them, and they knew such details only as granvelle chose to communicate to them. their first overt act was to resign the commissions they held in the spanish troops stationed in the country; their second, to write to the king asking him to relieve them of their position on the council of state, telling him that matters of great importance were continually transacted without their knowledge or concurrence, and that in the circumstances they could not conscientiously continue to sustain the responsibilities of office.[ ] the opposition took their stand on three things, all of which hung together--the presence of spanish troops on the soil of the netherlands, the cruelties perpetrated in the execution of the _placards_ against heresy, and the institution of the new bishoprics in accordance with the bull of pope paul iv., reaffirmed by pius iv. in (jan.). the common fighting ground for the opposition to all the three was the invasion of the charters and privileges of the various provinces which these measures necessarily involved, and the consequent violation of the king's coronation oath. philip had solemnly promised to withdraw the spanish troops within three or four months after he left the country. they had remained for fourteen, and the whole land cried out against the pillage and rapine which accompanied their presence. the people of zeeland declared that they would rather see the ocean submerge their country--that they would rather perish, men, women, and children, in the waves--than endure longer the outrages which these mercenaries inflicted upon them. they refused to repair the dykes. the presence of these troops had been early seen to be a degradation to his country by william of orange.[ ] at the states general held on the eve of philip's departure, he had urged the assembly to make the departure of the troops a condition of granting subsidies, and had roused philip's wrath in consequence. he now voiced the cry of the whole country. it was so strong that granvelle sent many an urgent request to the king to sanction their removal; and at length he and the regent, without waiting for orders, had the troops embarked for madrid. the rigorous repression of heresy compelled the government to override the charters of the several provinces. many of these charters contained very strong provisions, and the king had sworn to maintain them. the constitution of brabant, known as the _joyeuse entrée_ (_blyde inkomst_), provided that the clergy should not be given unusual powers; and that no subject, nor even a foreign resident, could be prosecuted civilly or criminally except in the ordinary courts of the land, where he could answer and defend himself with the help of advocates. the charter of holland contained similar provisions. both charters declared that if the prince transgressed these provisions the subjects were freed from their allegiance. the inquisitorial courts violated the charters of those and of the other provinces. the great objection taken to the increase of the episcopate, according to the provisions of the bulls of paul iv. and of pius iv., was that it involved a still greater infringement of the chartered rights of the land. for example, the bulls provided that the bishops were to appoint nine canons, who were to assist them in all inquisitorial cases, while at least one of them was to be an inquisitor charged with ferreting out and punishing heresy. this was apparently their great charm for philip ii. he desired an instrument to extirpate heretics. he knew that the reformation was making great progress in the netherlands, especially in the great commercial cities. "i would lose all my states and a hundred lives if i had them," he wrote to the pope, "rather than be the lord of heretics." the opposition at first contented itself with protesting against the position and rule of granvelle, and with demanding his recall. philip came to the reluctant conclusion to dismiss his minister, and did so with more than his usual duplicity. the nobles returned to the council, and the regent affected to take their advice. but they were soon to discover that the recall of the obnoxious minister did not make any change in the policy of philip. the regent read them a letter from philip ordering the publication and enforcement of the decrees of the council of trent in the netherlands.[ ] the nobles protested vehemently on the ground that this would mean a still further invasion of the privileges of the provinces. after long deliberation, it was resolved to send count egmont to madrid to lay the opinions of the council before the king. the debate was renewed on the instructions to be given to the delegate. those suggested by the president, vigilius, were colourless. then william the silent spoke out. his speech, a long one, full of suppressed passionate sympathy with his persecuted fellow-countrymen, made an extraordinary impression. it is thus summarised by brandt: that they ought to speak their minds freely; that there were such commotions and revolutions on account of religion in all the neighbouring countries, that it was impossible to maintain the present régime, and think to suppress disturbances by means of _placards_, inquisitions, and bishops; that the king was mistaken if he proposed to maintain the decrees of the council of trent in these provinces which lay so near germany, where all the princes, roman catholics as well as protestants, have justly rejected them; that it would be better that his majesty should tolerate these things as other princes were obliged to do, and annul or else moderate the punishments proclaimed in the _placards_; that though he himself had resolved to adhere to the catholic religion, yet he could not approve that princes should aim at dominion over the souls of men, or deprive them of the freedom of their faith and religion.[ ] the instructions given to egmont were accordingly both full and plain-spoken. count egmont departed leisurely to madrid, was well received by philip, and left thoroughly deceived, perhaps self-deceived, about the king's intentions. he had a rude awakening when the sealed letter he bore was opened and read in the council. it announced no real change in policy, and in the matter of heresy showed that the king's resolve was unaltered. a despatch to the regent (nov. th, ) was still more unbending. philip would not enlarge the powers of the council in the netherlands; he peremptorily refused to summon the states general; and he ordered the immediate publication and enforcement of the decrees of the council of trent in every town and village in the seventeen provinces. true to the policy of his house, the decrees of trent were to be proclaimed in _his_ name, not in that of the pope. it was the beginning of the tragedy, as william of orange remarked. the effect of the order was immediate and alarming. the courts of holland and brabant maintained that the decrees infringed their charters, and refused to permit their publication. stadtholders and magistrates declared that they would rather resign office than execute decrees which would compel them to burn over sixty thousand of their fellow-countrymen. trade ceased; industries died out; a blight fell on the land. pamphlets full of passionate appeals to the people to put an end to the tyranny were distributed and eagerly read. in one of them, which took the form of a letter to the king, it was said: "we are ready to die for the gospel, but we read therein, 'render unto cæsar the things which are cæsar's, and unto god the things that are god's.' we thank god that even our enemies are constrained to bear witness to our piety and innocence, for it is a common saying: 'he does not swear, for he is a protestant. he is not an immoral man, nor a drunkard, for he belongs to the new sect'; yet we are subjected to every kind of punishment that can be invented to torment us."[ ] the year saw the origin of a new confederated opposition to philip's mode of ruling the netherlands. francis du jon, a young frenchman of noble birth, belonging to bourges, had studied for the ministry at geneva, and had been sent as a missioner to the netherlands, where his learning and eloquence had made a deep impression on young men of the upper classes. his life was in constant peril, and he was compelled to flit secretly from the house of one sympathiser to that of another. during the festivities which accompanied the marriage of the young alexander of parma with maria of portugal, he was concealed in the house of the count of culemburg in brussels. on the day of the wedding he preached and prayed with a small company of young nobles, twenty in all. there and at other meetings held afterwards it was resolved to form a confederacy of nobles, all of whom agreed to bind themselves to support principles laid down in a carefully drafted manifesto which went by the name of the _compromise_. it was mainly directed against the inquisition, which it calls a tribunal opposed to all laws, divine and human. copies passed from hand to hand soon obtained over two thousand signatures among the lower nobility and landed gentry. many substantial burghers also signed. the leading spirits in the confederacy were louis of nassau, the younger brother of the prince of orange, then a lutheran; philip de marnix, lord of sainte aldegonde, a calvinist; and henry viscount brederode, a roman catholic. the confederates declared that they were loyal subjects; but pledged themselves to protect each other if any of them were attacked. the confederates met privately at breda and hoogstraten (march ), and resolved to present a petition to the regent asking that the king should be recommended to abolish the _placards_ and the inquisition, and that the regent should suspend their operation until the king's wishes were known; also that the states general should be assembled to consider other ordinances dangerous to the country. the regent had called an assembly of the notables for march th, and it was resolved to present the petition then. the confederation and its _compromise_ were rather dreaded by the great nobles who had been the leaders of the constitutional opposition, and there was some debate about the presentation of the _request_. the baron de barlaymont went so far as to recommend a massacre of the petitioners in the audience hall; but wiser counsels prevailed. the confederates met and marshalled themselves,--two hundred young nobles,--and marched through the streets to the palace, amid the acclamations of the populace, to present the _request_.[ ] the regent was somewhat dismayed by the imposing demonstration, but barlaymont reassured her with the famous words: "madame, is your highness afraid of these beggars (_ces gueux_)?" the deputation was dismissed with fair words, and the promise that although the regent had no power to suspend the _placards_ or the inquisition, there would be some moderation used until the king's pleasure was known. before leaving brussels, three hundred of the confederates met in the house of the count of culemburg to celebrate their league at a banquet. the viscount de brederode presided, and during the feast he recalled to their memories the words of barlaymont: "they call us beggars," he said; "we accept the name. we pledge ourselves to resist the inquisition, and keep true to the king and the beggar's wallet." he then produced the leathern sack of the wandering beggars, strapped it round his shoulder, and drank prosperity to the cause from a beggar's wooden bowl. the name and the emblem were adopted with enthusiasm, and spread far beyond the circle of the confederacy.[ ] everywhere burghers, lawyers, peasants as well as nobles appeared wearing the beggar's sack. medals, made first of wax set in a wooden cup, then of gold and silver, were adopted by the confederated nobles. on the one side was the effigies of the king, and on the obverse two hands clasped and the beggar's sack with the motto, _fidelles au roi jusques à porter la besace_ (beggar's sack). all these things were faithfully reported by the regent to philip, and she besought him either to permit her to moderate the _placards_ and the inquisition, or to come to the netherlands himself. he answered, promising to come, and permitted her some discretion in the matter of repression of heresy. meanwhile the people were greatly encouraged by the success, or appearance of success, attending the efforts of the confederates. refugees returned from france, germany, and switzerland. missioners of the reformed faith came in great numbers. field-preachings were held all over the country. the men came armed, planted sentinels, placed their women and children within the square, and thus listened to the services conducted by the excommunicated ministers. they heard the scriptures read and prayers poured forth in their own tongue. they sang hymns and psalms in french, flemish, and dutch. the crowds were so large, the sentinels so wary, the men so well armed, that the soldiers dared not attempt to disperse them. at first the meetings were held at night in woods and desolate places, but immunity created boldness. "on july rd ( ) the reformed rendezvoused in great numbers in a large meadow not far from ghent. there they formed a sort of camp, fortifying themselves with their waggons, and setting sentinels at all the roads. some brought pikes, some hatchets, and others guns. in front of them were pedlars with prohibited books, which they sold to such as came. they planted several along the road whose business it was to invite people to come to the preaching and to show them the way. they made a kind of pulpit of planks, and set it upon a waggon, from which the minister preached. when the sermon was ended, all the congregation sang several psalms. they also drew water out of a well or brook near them, and a child was baptized. two days were spent there, and then they adjourned to deinsen, then to ekelo near bruges, and so through all west flanders."[ ] growing bolder still, the reformed met in the environs and suburbs of the great towns. bands of men marched through the streets singing psalms, either the french versions of clement marot or bèze or the dutch one of peter dathenus. it was in vain that the regent issued a new _placard_ against the preachers and the conventicles. it remained a dead letter. in antwerp, bands of the reformed, armed, crowded to the preachings in defiance of the magistrates, who were afraid of fighting in the streets. in the emergency the regent appealed to william of orange, and he with difficulty appeased the tumults and arranged a compromise. the calvinists agreed to disarm on the condition that they were allowed the free exercise of their worship in the suburbs although not within the towns.[ ] the confederates were so encouraged with their successes that they thought of attempting more. a great conference was held at st. trond in the principality of liège (july ), attended by nearly two thousand members. the leader was louis of nassau. they resolved on another deputation to the regent, and twelve of their number were selected to present their demands. these "twelve apostles," as the courtiers contemptuously termed them, declared that the persecution had not been mitigated as promised, and not obscurely threatened that if some remedy were not found they might be forced to invoke foreign assistance. the threat enraged the regent; but she was helpless; she could only urge that she had already made representations to the king, and had sent two members of council to inform the king about the condition of the country. it seemed as if some impression had been made on philip. the regent received a despatch (july st, ) saying that he was prepared to withdraw the papal inquisition from the netherlands, and that he would grant what toleration was consistent with the maintenance of the catholic religion; only he would in no way consent to a summoning of the states general. there was great triumphing in the netherlands at this news. perhaps every one but the prince of orange was more or less deceived by philip's duplicity. it is only since the archives of simancas have yielded their secrets that its depth has been known. they reveal that on aug. th he executed a deed in which he declared that the promise of pardon had been won from him by force, and that he did not mean to keep it, and that on aug. th he wrote to the pope that his declaration to withdraw the inquisition was a mere blind. william only knew that the king was levying troops, and that he was blaming the great nobles of the netherlands for the check inflicted upon him by the confederates. long before philip's real intentions were unmasked, a series of iconoclastic attacks not only gave the king the pretext he needed, but did more harm to the cause of the reformation in the low countries than all the persecutions under charles v. and his son. the origin of these tumultuous proceedings is obscure. according to brandt, who collects information from all sides: "some few of the vilest of the mob ... were those who began the dance, being hallooed on by nobody knows whom. their arms were staves, hatchets, hammers, ladders, ropes, and other tools more proper to demolish than to fight with; some few were provided with guns and swords. at first they attacked the crosses and the images that had been erected on the great roads in the country; next, those in the villages; and, lastly, those in the towns and cities. all the chapels, churches, and convents which they found shut they forced open, breaking, tearing, and destroying all the images, pictures, shrines and other consecrated things they met with; nay, some did not scruple to lay their hands upon libraries, books, writings, monuments, and even on the dead bodies in churches and churchyards."[ ] according to almost all accounts, the epidemic, for the madness resembled a disease, first appeared at st. omer (aug. th, ), then at ypres, and extended rapidly to other towns. it came to a height at antwerp ( th and th aug. ), when the mob sacked the great cathedral and destroyed some of its richest treasures.[ ] an eye-witness declared that the rioters in the cathedral did not number more than one hundred men, women, and boys, drawn from the dregs of the population, and that the attacks on the other churches were made by small parties of ten or twelve persons. these outrages had a disastrous effect on the reformation movement in the netherlands, both immediately and in the future. they at once exasperated the more liberal-minded roman catholics and enraged the regent: they began that gradual cleavage which ended in the separation of the protestant north from the romanist south. the regent felt herself justified in practically withdrawing all the privileges she had accorded to the reformed, and in raising german and walloon troops to overawe the protestants. the presence of these troops irritated some of the calvinist nobles, and john de marnix, elder brother of sainte aldegonde, attempted to seize the island of walcheren in order to hold it as a city of refuge for his persecuted brethren. he was unsuccessful; a fight took place not far from antwerp itself, in which de marnix was routed and slain (march th, ). § . _william of orange._ meanwhile william of orange had come to the conclusion that philip was meditating the suppression of the rights and liberties of the low countries by spanish troops, and was convinced that the great nobles who had hitherto headed the constitutional opposition would be the first to be attacked. he had conferences with egmont and hoorn at dendermonde (oct. rd, ), and at willebroek (april nd, ), and endeavoured to persuade them that the only course open to them was to resist by force of arms. his arguments were unavailing, and william sadly determined that he must leave the country and retire to his german estates. his forebodings were only too correct. philip had resolved to send the duke of alva to subdue the netherlands. a force of nine thousand veteran spanish infantry with thirteen hundred italian cavalry had been collected from the garrisons of lombardy and naples, and alva began a long, difficult march over the mt. cenis and through franche-comté, lorraine, and luxemburg. william had escaped just in time. when the duke arrived in brussels and presented his credentials to the council of state, it was seen that the king had bestowed on him such extensive powers that margaret remained regent in name only. one of his earliest acts was to get possession of the persons of counts egmont and hoorn, with their private secretaries, and to imprison antony van straelen, burgomaster of antwerp, and a confidential friend of the prince of orange. many other arrests were made; and alva, having caught his victims, invented an instrument to help him to dispose of them. by the mere fiat of his will he created a judicial chamber, whose decisions were to override those of any other court of law in the netherlands, and which was to be responsible to none, not even to the council of state. it was called the _council of tumults_, but is better known by its popular name, _the bloody tribunal_. it consisted of twelve members, among whom were barlaymont and a few of the most violent romanists of the netherlands; but only two, juan de vargas and del rio, both spaniards, were permitted to vote and influence the decisions. del rio was a nonentity; but de vargas was a very stern reality--a man of infamous life, equally notorious for the delight he took in slaughtering his fellow-men and the facility with which he murdered the latin language! he brought the whole population of the netherlands within the grip of the public executioner by his indictment: _hæretici fraxerunt templa, boni nihil faxerunt contra; ergo debent omnes patibulure:_ by which he meant, _the heretics have broken open churches, the orthodox have done nothing to hinder them; therefore they ought all of them to be hanged together._ alva reserved all final decisions for his own judgment, in order that the work might be thoroughly done. he wrote to the king, "men of law only condemn for crimes that are proved, whereas your majesty knows that affairs of state are governed by very different rules from the laws which they have here." at its earlier sittings this terrible tribunal defined the crime of treason, and stated that its punishment was death. the definition extended to eighteen articles, and declared it to be treason--to have presented or signed any petition against the new bishoprics, the inquisition, or the _placards_; to have tolerated public preaching under any circumstances; to have omitted to resist iconoclasm, or field-preaching, or the presentation of the _request_; to have asserted that the king had not the right to suspend the charters of the provinces; or to maintain that the council of tumults had not a right to override all the laws and privileges of the netherlands. all these things were treason, and all of them were capital offences. proof was not required; all that was needed was reasonable suspicion, or rather what the duke of alva believed to be so. the council soon got to work. it sent commissioners through every part of the land--towns, villages, districts--to search for any who might be suspected of having committed any act which could be included within their definition of treason. informers were invited, were bribed, to come forward; and soon shoals of denunciations and evidence flowed in to them. the accused were brought before the council, tried (if the procedure could be called a trial), and condemned in batches. the records speak of ninety-five, eighty-four, forty-six, thirty-five at a time. alva wrote to philip that no fewer than fifteen hundred had been taken in their beds early on ash-wednesday morning, and later he announces another batch of eight hundred. in each case he adds, "i have ordered all of them to be executed." in view of these records, the language of a contemporary chronicler does not appeared exaggerated: "the gallows, the wheel, stakes, trees along the highways, were laden with carcasses or limbs of those who had been hanged, beheaded, or roasted; so that the air which god made for the respiration of the living, was now become the common grave or habitation of the dead. every day produced fresh objects of pity and of mourning, and the noise of the bloody passing-bell was continually heard, which by the martyrdom of this man's cousin, and the other's brother or friend, rang dismal peals in the hearts of the survivors."[ ] whole families left their dwellings to shelter themselves in the woods, and, goaded by their misery, pillaged and plundered. the priests had been active as informers, and these _wild-beggars_, as they were called, "made excursions on them, serving themselves of the darkest nights for revenge and robbery, punishing them not only by despoiling them of their goods, but by disfiguring their faces, cutting off ears and noses." the country was in a state of anarchy. margaret, duchess of parma, the nominal regent of the netherlands, had found her position intolerable since the arrival of the duke of alva, and was permitted by philip to resign (oct. th, ). alva henceforth was untrammelled by even nominal restraint. a process was begun against the counts egmont and hoorn, and william of orange was proclaimed an outlaw (jan. th, ) unless he submitted himself for trial before the _council of tumults_. some days afterwards, his eldest son, a boy of fifteen and a student in the university of louvain, was kidnapped and carried off to spain.[ ] william replied in his famous _justification of the prince of orange against his calumniators_, in which he declared that he, a citizen of brabant, a knight of the golden fleece, a prince of the holy roman empire, one of the sovereign princes of europe (in virtue of the principality of orange), could not be summoned before an incompetent tribunal. he reviewed the events in the netherlands since the accession of philip ii., and spoke plainly against the misgovernment caused, he said diplomatically, by the evil counsels of the king's advisers. the _justification_ was published in several languages, and was not merely an act of defiance to philip, but a plea made on behalf of his country to the whole of civilised europe. the earlier months of had been spent by the prince of orange in military preparations for the relief of his countrymen, and in the spring his army was ready. the campaign was a failure. hoogstraten was defeated. louis of nassau had a temporary success at heiliger-lee (may rd, ), only to be routed at jemmingen (july st, ). after william had issued a pathetic but unavailing manifesto to protestant europe, a second expedition was sent forth only to meet defeat. the cause of the netherlands seemed hopeless. but alva was beginning to find himself in difficulties. on the news of the repulse of his troops at heiliger-lee he had hastily beheaded the counts egmont and hoorn. instead of striking terror into the hearts of the netherlanders, the execution roused them to an undying hatred of the spaniard. he was now troubled by lack of money to pay his troops. he had promised philip to make gold flow from the low countries to spain; but his rule had destroyed the commerce and manufactures of the country, the source of its wealth. he was almost dependent on subsidies from spain. elizabeth of england had been assisting her fellow protestants in the way she liked best, by seizing spanish treasure ships; and alva was reduced to find the money he needed within the netherlands. it was then that he proposed to the states general, summoned to meet him (march th, ), his notorious scheme of taxation, which finally ruined him--a tax of one per cent. (the "hundredth penny") to be levied once for all on all property; a tax of five per cent. (the "twentieth penny") to be levied at every sale or transfer of landed property: and a tax of ten per cent. (the "tenth penny") on all articles of commerce each time they were sold. this scheme of taxation would have completely ruined a commercial and manufacturing country. it met with universal resistance. provinces, towns, magistrates, guilds, the bishops and the clergy--everyone protested against the taxation. even philip's council at madrid saw the impossibility of exacting such taxes from a country. alva swore that he would have his own way. the town and district of utrecht had been the first to protest. alva quartered the regiment of lombardy upon them; but not even the licence and brutality of the soldiers could force the wretched people to pay. alva proclaimed the whole of the inhabitants to be guilty of high treason; he took from them all their charters and privileges; he declared their whole property confiscated to the king. but these were the acts of a furious madman, and were unavailing. he then postponed the collection of the hundredth and of the tenth pennies; but the need of money forced him on, and he gave definite orders for the collection of the "tenth" and the "twentieth pennies." the trade and manufactures of the country came to a sudden standstill, and alva at last knew that he was beaten. he had to be satisfied with a payment of two millions of florins for two years. the real fighting force among the reformed netherlanders was to be found, not among the landsmen, but in the sailors and fishermen. it is said that admiral coligny was the first to point this out to the prince of orange. he acted upon the advice, and in he had given letters of marque to some eighteen small vessels to cruise in the narrow seas and attack the spaniards. at first they were little better than pirates,--men of various nationalities united by a fierce hatred of spaniards and papists, feared by friends and foes alike. william attempted, at first somewhat unsuccessfully, to reduce them to discipline and order, by issuing with his letters of marque orders limiting their indiscriminate pillage, insisting upon the maintenance of religious services on board, and declaring that one-third of the booty was to be given to himself for the common good of the country. in their earlier days they were allowed to refit and sell their plunder in english ports, but these were closed to them on strong remonstrances from the court of spain. it was almost by accident that they seized and held (april st, ) brill or brielle, a strongly fortified town on voorn, which was then an island at the mouth of the maas, some twenty miles west or seaward from rotterdam. the inhabitants were forced to take an oath of allegiance to william as stadtholder under the king, and the flag of what was afterwards to become the united provinces was hoisted on land for the first time. it was not william, but his brother louis of nassau, who was the first to see the future possibilities in this act. he urged the seizure of flushing or vlissingen, the chief stronghold in zeeland, situated on an island at the mouth of the honte or western scheldt, and commanding the entrance to antwerp. the citizens rose in revolt against the spanish garrison; the _sea-beggars_, as they were called, hurried to assist them; the town was taken, and the spanish commander, pachecho, was captured and hanged. this gave the seamen possession of the whole island of walcheren save the fortified town of middleburg. delfshaven and schiedam were seized. the news swept through holland, zeeland, guelderland, utrecht, and friesland, and town after town declared for william of orange the stadtholder. the leaders were marvellously encouraged to renewed exertions.[ ] proclamations in the name of the new ruler were scattered broadcast through the country, and the people were fired by a song said to be written by sainte aldegonde, _wilhelmus van nassouwe_, which is still the national hymn of holland. the prince of orange thought he might venture on another invasion, and was already near brussels when the news of the massacre of saint bartholomew reached him. his plans had been based on assistance from france, urged by coligny and promised by charles ix. "what a sledge-hammer blow (_coup de massue_) that has been," he wrote to his brother; "my only hope was from france."[ ] mons, which louis had seized in the south with his french troops, had to be abandoned; and william, after some vain efforts, had to disband his troops. then alva came out from brussels to wreak a fearful vengeance on mons, mechlin, tergoes, naarden, haarlem, and zutphen. the terms of the capitulation of mons were violated. mechlin was plundered and set on fire by the spanish troops. the spanish commander sent against zutphen had orders to burn every house, and to slay men, women, and children. haarlem was invested, resisted desperately, and then capitulated on promise of lenient treatment. when the spaniards entered they butchered in cold blood all the dutch soldiers and some hundreds of the citizens; and, tying the bodies two and two together, they cast them into the haarlem lake. it seemed as if the papists had determined to exterminate the protestants when they found that they could not convert them. some towns, however, held out. don frederick, the son of alva and the butcher of haarlem, was beaten back from the little town of alkmaar. the _sea-beggars_ met the spanish fleet sent to crush them, sank or scattered the ships, and took the admiral prisoner. the nation of fishermen and shopkeepers, once the scorn of spain and of europe for their patient endurance of indignities, were seen at last to be a race of heroes, determined never again to endure the yoke of the spaniard. alva had soon to face a soldiery mutinous for want of pay, and to see all his sea approaches in the hands of dutch sailors, whom the strongest fleets of spain could not subdue. the iron pitiless man at last acknowledged that he was beaten, and demanded his recall. he left brussels on dec. th, , and did not again see the land he had deluged with blood during a space of six years. like all tyrants, he had great faith in his system, even when it had broken in his hand. had he been a little more severe, added a few more drops to the sea of blood he had spilled, all would have gone well. the only advice he could give to his successor was, to burn down every town he could not garrison with spanish troops. the new spanish regent was don louis requesens-y-zuniga, a member of the higher nobility of spain, and a grand commander of the knights of malta. he was high-minded, and of a generous disposition. had he been sent to the netherlands ten years sooner, and allowed to act with a free hand, the history of the netherlands might have been different. his earlier efforts at government were marked by attempts to negotiate, and he was at pains to give philip his reasons for his conduct. "before my arrival," he wrote, "i could not comprehend how the rebels contrived to maintain fleets so considerable, while your majesty could not maintain one. now i see that men who are fighting for their lives, their families, their property, and their false religion, in short, for their own cause, are content if they receive only rations without pay." he immediately reversed the policy of alva: he repealed the hated taxes; dissolved the council of blood, and published a general amnesty. but he could not come to terms with the "rebels." william of orange refused all negotiation which was not based on three preliminary conditions--freedom of conscience, and liberty to preach the gospel according to the word of god; the restoration of all the ancient charters; and the withdrawal of all spaniards from all posts military and civil. he would accept no truce nor amnesty without these. "we have heard too often," he said, "the words _agreed_ and _eternal_. if i have your word for it, who will guarantee that the king will not deny it, and be absolved for his breach of faith by the pope?" requesens, hating the necessity, had to carry on the struggle which the policy of his king and of the regents who preceded him had provoked. the fortune of war seemed to be unchanged. the patriots were always victorious at sea and tenacious in desperate defence of their fortified towns when they were besieged, but they went down before the veteran spanish infantry in almost every battle fought on land. in the beginning of two fortresses were invested. the patriots were besieging middleburg, and the spaniards had invested leyden. the _sea-beggars_ routed the spanish fleet in a bloody fight in the mouth of the scheldt, and middleburg had to surrender. leyden had two months' respite owing to a mutiny among the spanish soldiers, but the citizens neglected the opportunity thus given them to revictual their town. it was again invested (may th), and hardly pressed. louis of nassau, leading an army to its assistance, was totally routed at mookerheide, and he and his younger brother henry were among the slain. the fate of leyden seemed to be sealed, when william suggested to the estates of holland to cut the dykes and let in the sea. the plan was adopted. but the dykes took long to cut, and when they were opened and the water began to flow in slowly, violent winds swept it back to the sea. within leyden the supply of food was melting away; and the famished and anxious burghers, looking over the plain from the steeples of the town, saw help coming so slowly that it seemed as if it could arrive only when it was too late. the spaniards knew also of the coming danger, and, calculating on the extremities of the townsfolk, urged on them to surrender, with promises of an honourable capitulation. "we have two arms," one of the defenders on the walls shouted back, "and when hunger forces us we will eat the one and fight you with the other." four weary months passed amidst indescribable sufferings, when at last the sea reached the walls. with it came the patriotic fleet, sailing over buried corn fields and gardens, piloted through orchards and villages. the spaniards fled in terror, for the _sea-beggars_ were upon them, shouting their battle-cry, "sooner turks than papists." townsmen and sailors went to the great church to offer thanksgiving for the deliverance which had been brought them from the sea. when the vast audience was singing a psalm of deliverance, the voices suddenly ceased, and nothing was heard but low sobbing; the people, broken by long watching and famine, overcome by unexpected deliverance, could only weep. the good news was brought to delft by hans brugge, who found william in church at the afternoon service. when the sermon was ended, the deliverance of leyden was announced from the pulpit. william, weak with illness as he was, rode off to leyden at once to congratulate the citizens on their heroic defence and miraculous deliverance. there he proposed the foundation of what became the famous university of leyden, which became for holland what wittenberg had been to germany, geneva to switzerland, and saumur to france. the siege of leyden was the turning-point in the war for independence. the spanish regent saw that a new protestant state was slowly and almost imperceptibly forming. his troops were almost uniformly victorious in the field, but the victories did not seem to be of much value. he decided once more to attempt negotiation. the conferences came to nothing. the utmost that philip ii. would concede was that the protestants should have time to sell their possessions and leave the country. the war was again renewed, when death came to relieve requesens of his difficulties (march ). his last months were disgraced by the recommendation he made to his master to offer a reward for the assassination of the prince of orange. the history of the next few years is a tangled story which would take too long to tell. when requesens died the treasury was empty, and no public money was forthcoming. the spanish soldiers mutinied, clamouring for their pay. they seized on some towns and laid hold on the citadel of antwerp. then occurred the awful pillage of the great city, when, during three terrible november days, populous and wealthy antwerp suffered all the horrors that could be inflicted upon it. the sudden death of requesens had left everything in confusion; and leading men, both roman catholic and protestant, conceived that advantage should be taken of the absence of any spanish governor to see whether all the seventeen provinces of the netherlands could not combine on some common programme which would unite the country in spite of their religious differences. delegates met together at ghent (oct. th, ) and drafted a treaty. a meeting of states general for the southern provinces was called to assemble at brussels in november, and the members were discussing the terms of the treaty when the news of the "spanish fury" at antwerp reached them. the story of the ghastly horrors perpetrated on their countrymen doubtless hastened their decision, and the treaty was ratified both by the states general and by the council of state. the _pacification of ghent_ cemented an alliance between the southern provinces represented in the states general which met at brussels and the northern provinces of holland and zeeland. its chief provisions were that all should combine to drive the spanish and other foreign troops out of the land, and that a formal meeting of delegates from all the seventeen provinces should be called to deliberate upon the religious question. in the meantime the roman catholic religion was to be maintained; the _placards_ were to be abolished; the prince of orange was declared to be the governor of the seventeen provinces and the admiral-general of holland and zeeland; and the confiscation of the properties of the houses of nassau and brederode was rescinded. don john of austria had been appointed by philip regent of the netherlands, and was in luxemburg early in november. his arrival there was intimated to the states general, who refused to acknowledge him as regent unless he would approve of the _pacification of ghent_ and swear to maintain the ancient privileges of the various provinces. months were spent in negotiations, but the states general were unmovable. he yielded at length, and made his state entry into brussels on may st, . when once there he found himself overshadowed by william, who had been accepted as leader by roman catholics and protestants alike. but philip with great exertions had got together an army of twenty thousand veteran spanish and italian troops, and sent them to the netherlands under the command of alexander farnese, the son of the former regent, margaret duchess of parma. the young duke of parma was a man of consummate abilities, military and diplomatic, and was by far the ablest agent philip ever had in the low countries. he defeated the patriotic army at gemblours (jan. st, ), and several towns at once opened their gates to parma and don john. to increase the confusion, john casimir, brother of the elector palatine, invaded the land from the east at the head of a large body of german mercenary soldiers to assist the calvinists; the archduke matthias, brother of the emperor rudolph, was already in the country, invited by the roman catholics; and the duke of anjou had invaded the netherlands from the south to uphold the interests of those romanists who did not wish to tolerate protestantism but hated the spaniards. these foreigners represented only too well the latent divisions of the country--divisions which were skilfully taken advantage of by the duke of parma. after struggling in vain for a union of the whole seventeen provinces on the basis of complete religious toleration, william saw that his task was hopeless. neither the majority of the romanists nor the majority of the protestants could understand toleration. delegates of the romanist provinces of hainault, douai, and artois met at arras (jan. th, ) to form a league which had for its ultimate intention a reconciliation with spain on the basis of the _pacification of ghent_, laying stress on the provision for the maintenance of the roman catholic religion. thus challenged, the northern provinces of holland, zeeland, utrecht, guelderland, and zutphen met at utrecht (jan. th, ), and formed a league to maintain themselves against all foreign princes, including the king of spain. these two leagues mark the definite separation of the romanist south from the protestant north, and the creation of a new protestant state, the united provinces. william did not sign the treaty of utrecht until may rd. in , philip made a last attempt to overcome his indomitable antagonist. he published the ban against him, denouncing him as a traitor and an enemy of the human race, and offering a reward of twenty-five thousand crowns and a patent of nobility to anyone who should deliver him to the king dead or alive. william answered in his famous _apology_, which gives an account of his whole career, and contains a scathing exposure of philip's misdeeds. the _apology_ was translated into several languages, and sent to all the courts of europe. brabant, flanders, utrecht, guelderland, holland, and zeeland answered philip by the celebrated act of abjuration (july th, ), in which they solemnly renounced allegiance to the king of spain, and constituted themselves an independent republic. the date of the abjuration may be taken as the beginning of the new era, the birth of another protestant nation. its young life had been consecrated in a baptism of blood and fire such as no other nation in europe had to endure. its declaration of independence did not procure immediate relief. nearly thirty years of further struggle awaited it; and it was soon to mourn the loss of its heroic leader. the rewards promised by philip ii. were a spur to the zeal of romanist fanatics. in (march th), juan jaureguy, a biscayan, made a desperate attempt at assassination, which for the moment was thought to be successful. the pistol was so close to the prince that his hair and beard were set on fire, and the ball entering under the right ear, passed through the palate and out by the left jaw. two years later (july th, ), william fell mortally wounded by balthasar gerard, whose heirs claimed the reward for assassination promised by philip, and received part of it from the king. the prince's last words were: "my god, have mercy on my soul and on these poor people." the sixteenth century produced no nobler character than that of william, prince of orange. his family were lutherans, but they permitted the lad to be brought up in the roman catholic religion--the condition which charles v. had imposed before he would consent to give effect to the will of rené, prince of orange,[ ] who, dying at the early age of twenty-six, had left his large possessions to his youthful cousin, william of nassau. in an intolerant age he stands forth as the one great leader who rose above the religious passions of the time, and who strove all his life to secure freedom of conscience and right of public worship for men of all creeds.[ ] he was a consistent liberal roman catholic down to the close of . his letter (january th, ) to margaret of parma perhaps reveals the beginnings of a change. he called himself "a good christian," not a "good catholic." before the end of that year he had said privately that he was ready to return to the faith of his childhood and subscribe the augsburg confession. during his exile in he had made a daily study of the holy scriptures, and, whatever the exact shade of his theological opinions, had become a deeply religious man, animated with the lofty idea that god had called him to do a great work for him and for his persecuted people. his private letters, meant for no eyes but those of his wife or of his most familiar friends, are full of passages expressing a quiet faith in god and in the leadings of his providence.[ ] during the last years of his life the teachings of calvin had more and more taken hold on his intellect and sympathy, and he publicly declared himself a calvinist in (october rd). a hatred of every form of oppression was his ruling passion, and he himself has told us that it was when he learnt that the kings of france and spain had come to a secret understanding to extirpate heresy by fire and sword, that he made the silent resolve to drive "this vermin of spaniards out of his country."[ ] the protestant netherlands might well believe themselves lost when he fell under the pistol of the assassin; but he left them a legacy in the persons of his confidential friend johan van oldenbarneveldt and of his son maurice. oldenbarneveldt's patient diplomatic genius completed the political work left unfinished by william; and maurice,[ ] a lad of seventeen at his father's death, was acknowledged only a few years afterwards as the greatest military leader in europe. the older man in the politician's study, and the boy-general in the field, were able to keep the spaniards at bay, until at length, in (october), a suspension of arms was agreed to. this resulted in a truce for twelve years (april th, ), which was afterwards prolonged indefinitely. the dutch had won their independence, and had become a strong protestant power whose supremacy at sea was challenged only by england. notwithstanding the severity of the persecutions which they endured, the protestants of the netherlands organised themselves into churches, and as early as the delegates from the various churches met in a synod to settle the doctrine and discipline which was to bind them together. this was not done without internal difficulties. the people of the netherlands had received the evangelical faith from various sources, and the converts tenaciously clung to the creed and ecclesiastical system with which they were first acquainted. the earliest reformation preachers in the low countries were followers of luther, and many of them had been trained at wittenberg. lutherans were numerous among the lesser nobility and the more substantial burghers. somewhat later the opinions of zwingli also found their way into the netherlands, and were adopted by many very sincere believers. the french-speaking provinces in the south had been evangelised for the most part by missioners trained under calvin at geneva, and they brought his theology with them. thus luther, zwingli, and calvin had all attached followers in the low countries. the differences found expression, not so much in matters of doctrine as in preferences for different forms of church government; and although they were almost overcome, they reappeared later in the contest which emerged in the beginning of the seventeenth century about the relation which ought to subsist between the civil and the ecclesiastical authorities. in the end, the teaching of geneva displaced both lutheranism and zwinglianism, and the reformed in the netherlands became calvinist in doctrine and discipline. accordingly, most of the churches were early organised on the principles of the churches in france, with a minister and a consistory of elders and deacons; and when delegates from the churches met to deliberate upon an organisation which would bind all together, the system which was adopted was the presbyterian or conciliar. the meeting was at emden ( ), as it was too dangerous to assemble within the jurisdiction of the government of the netherlands. it was resolved that the church should be ruled by _consistories, classes_, and _synods_. this conciliar organisation, thus adopted at emden in , might not have met with unanimous support had not the reformed been exposed to the full fury of alva's persecution. the consistorial system of the lutheran church, and the position which zwingli assigned to the magistracy, are possible only when the civil government is favourably disposed towards the church within the land which it rules; but presbyterianism, as france, scotland, and the netherlands have proved, is the best suited for "a church under the cross." nor need this be wondered at, for the presbyterian or conciliar is the revival of the government of the church of the early centuries while still under the ban of the roman empire.[ ] a synod which met at dordrecht (dort) in revised, enlarged, and formally adopted the articles of this emden synod or conference. two peculiarities of the dutch organisation ought to be explained. the _consistory_ or kirk-session is the court which rules the individual congregation in holland as in all other presbyterian lands; but in the dutch church all church members inhabiting a city are regarded as one congregation; the ministers are the pastors of the city, preaching in turn in all its buildings set apart for public worship, and the people are not considered to be specially attached to any one of the buildings, nor to belong to the flock of any one of the ministers; and therefore there is one consistory for the whole city. this peculiarity was also seen in the early centuries. then it must be noticed that, owing to the political organisation of the united provinces, it was difficult to arrange for a national synod. the civil constitution was a federation of states, in many respects independent of each other, who were bound to protect each other in war, to maintain a common army, and to contribute to a common military treasury. when william of orange was elected stadtholder for life, one of the laws which bound him was that he should not acknowledge any ecclesiastical assembly which had not the approval of the civil authorities of the province in which it proposed to meet. this implied that each province was entitled to regulate its own ecclesiastical affairs. there could be no meeting of a national synod unless all the united provinces gave their approval. hence the tendency was to prevent corporate and united action. according to the articles of emden, and the revised and enlarged edition approved at dordrecht in , it was agreed that office-bearers in the church were to sign the _confession of faith_. this creed had been prepared by guido de brès (born at mons in ) in , and had been revised by several of his friends. it was based on the confession of the french church, and was originally written in french. it was approved by a series of synods, and was translated into dutch, german, and latin. it is known as the belgic confession. its original title was, _a confession of faith, generally and unanimously maintained by believers dispersed throughout the low countries who desire to live according to the purity of the holy gospel of our lord jesus christ._[ ] the church also adopted the _heidelberg catechism_[ ] for the instruction of the young. the long fight against spain and the inquisition had stimulated the energies of the church and the people of the netherlands, and their universities and theological schools soon rivalled older seats of learning. the university of leyden, a thank-offering for the wonderful deliverance of the town, was founded in ; franecker, ten years later, in ; and there followed in rapid succession the universities of gronningen ( ), utrecht ( ), and harderwyk ( ). dutch theologians and lawyers became famous during the seventeenth century for their learning and acumen. chapter vi. the reformation in scotland.[ ] if civilisation means the art of living together in peace, scotland was almost four hundred years behind the rest of western europe in the beginning of the sixteenth century. the history of her kings is a tale of assassinations, long minorities, regencies scrambled and fought for by unscrupulous barons; and kingly authority, which had been growing in other countries, was on the verge of extinction in scotland. her parliament or estates of the realm was a mere feudal assembly, with more than the usual uncertainty regarding who were entitled to be present; while its peculiar management by a committee of the estates made it a facile instrument in the hands of the faction who were for the moment in power, and robbed it of any stable influence on the country as a whole. the church, wealthy so far as acreage was concerned, had become secularised to an extent unknown elsewhere, and its benefices served to provide for the younger sons of the great feudal families in a manner which recalls the days of charles the hammer.[ ] yet the country had been prepared for the reformation by the education of the people, especially of the middle class, by constant intercourse between scotland and france and the low countries, and by the sympathy which scottish students had felt for the earlier movements towards church reform in england and bohemia; while the wealth and immorality of the romish clergy, the poverty of the nobility and landed gentry, and the changing political situation, combined to give an impetus to the efforts of those who longed for a reformation. more than one historian has remarked that the state of education in scotland had always been considerably in advance of what might have been expected from its backward civilisation. this has been usually traced to the enduring influence of the old celtic church--a church which had maintained its hold on the country for more than seven centuries, and which had always looked upon the education of the people as a religious duty. old celtic ecclesiastical rules declared that it was as important to teach boys and girls to read, as to dispense the sacraments, and to take part in _soul-friendship_ (confession). the celtic monastery had always been an educational centre; and when charles the great established the high schools which grew to be the older universities of northern europe, the celtic monasteries furnished many of the teachers. the very complete educational system of the old church had been taken over into the roman church which supplanted it, under queen margaret and her sons. hence it was that the cathedral and monastery schools produced a number of scholars who were eager to enrich their stores of learning beyond what the mother-country could give them, and the scotch wandering student was well known during the middle ages on the continent of europe. one scottish bishop founded a scots college in paris for his countrymen; other bishops obtained from english kings safe-conducts for their students to reside at oxford and cambridge. this scholastic intercourse brought scotland in touch with the intellectual movements in europe. scottish students at paris listened to the lectures of peter dubois and william of ockham when they taught the theories contained in the _defensor pacis_ of marsiglio of padua, who had expounded that the church is not the hierarchy, but the christian people, and had denied both the temporal and spiritual supremacy of the pope. the _rotuli scotiæ_,[ ] or collection of safe-conducts issued by english monarchs to inhabitants of the northern kingdom, show that a continuous stream of scottish students went to the english universities from to . during the earlier years of this period--that is, up to --the safe-conducts applied for and granted entitled the bearers to go to oxford or cambridge or any other place of learning in england; but from to oxford seems to have been the only university frequented. during one of these years ( ) safe-conducts were given to no fewer than eighty-one scottish students to study in oxford. the period was that during which the influence of wiclif was most powerful, when oxford seethed with lollardy; and the teachings of the great reformer were thus brought into scotland. lollardy seems to have made great progress. in , robert, duke of albany, was made governor of scotland, and andrew wyntoun in his metrical chronicle praises him for his fidelity to the church: "he wes a constant catholike, all lollard he hatyt and heretike."[ ] from this time down to the very dawn of the reformation we find references to lollardy in contemporary writers and in acts of the scots parliament; and all the earlier histories of the reformation movement in scotland relate the story of the lollards of kyle and their interview with king james iv.[ ] the presence of lollard opinions in scotland must have attracted the attention of the leaders of the hussites in bohemia. in (july rd), paul craw or crawar was seized, tried before the inquisitorial court, condemned, and burnt as a heretic. he had brought letters from the hussites of prag, and acknowledged that he had been sent to interest the scots in the hussite movement--one of the many emissaries who were despatched in and by procopius and john rokycana into all european lands. he was found by the inquisitor to be a man _in sacris literis et in allegatione bibliæ promptus et exercitatus_. knox tells us that he was condemned for denying transubstantiation, auricular confession to the priests, and prayers to saints departed. we learn also from knox that at his burning the executioner put a ball of brass in his mouth that the people might not hear his defence. his execution did not arrest the progress of lollardy. the earlier poems of sir david lindsay contain lollard opinions. by the time that these were published ( - ), lutheran writings had found their way into scotland, and may have influenced the writer; but the sentiments in the _testament and complaynt of the papyngo_ are more lollard than lutheran. the romish church in scotland was comparatively wealthy, and the rude scottish nobles managed to place their younger sons in many a fat living, with the result that the manners of the clergy did little honour to their sacred calling. satirists began to point the moral. john row says: "as for the more particulare means whereby many in scotland got some knowledge of god's trueth, in the time of great darkness, there were some books sett out, such as sir david lindesay his poesie upon the _four monarchies_, wherein many other treatises are conteined, opening up the abuses among the clergie at that tyme; wedderburn's psalms and _godlie ballads_, changing many of the old popish songs unto godlie purposes; a _complaint_ given in by the halt, blinde and poore of england, aganis the prelats, preists, friers, and others such kirkmen, who prodigallie wasted all the tithes and kirk liveings upon their unlawfull pleasures, so that they could get no sustentation nor releef as god had ordained. this was printed and came into scotland. there were also some theatricall playes, comedies, and other notable histories acted in publict; for sir david lindesay his satyre was acted in the amphitheater of st. johnestoun (perth), before king james the v., and a great part of the nobilitie and gentrie, fra morn to even, whilk made the people sensible of the darknes wherein they lay, of the wickednes of their kirkmen, and did let them see how god's kirk should have bene otherwayes guyded nor it was; all of whilk did much good for that tyme."[ ] it may be doubted, however, whether the scottish people felt the real sting in such satires until they began to be taught by preachers who had been to wittenberg, or who had studied the writings of luther and other reformers, or who had learned from private perusal of the scriptures what it was to be in earnest about pardon of sin and salvation of soul. some of the towns on the east coast were centres of trade with the continent, and leith had once been an obscure member of the great hanseatic league. lutheran and other tracts were smuggled into scotland from campvere by way of leith, dundee, and montrose. the authorities were on the alert, and tried to put an end to the practice. in , parliament forbade strangers bringing lutheran books into scotland on pain of imprisonment and forfeiture of their goods and ships;[ ] and in the same year the government were informed that "sundry strangers and others within the diocese of aberdeen were possessed of luther's books, and favoured his errors and false opinions." two years later ( ), the act was made to include those who assisted in spreading lutheran views. an agent of wolsey informed the cardinal that scottish merchants were purchasing copies of tyndale's new testament in the low countries and sending them to scotland.[ ] the efforts of the government do not seem to have been very successful. another act of parliament in declared that none but the clergy were to be allowed to purchase heretical books; all others possessing such were required to give them up within forty days.[ ] this legislation clearly shows the spread of reformed writings among the people of scotland. the first scottish martyr was patrick hamilton, a younger son of sir patrick hamilton of kincavel and stanehouse. he had studied at paris and louvain. as he took his degree of m.a. in paris in , he had been there when the writings of luther were being studied by all learned men, including the theological students of the sorbonne (the theological faculty).[ ] hamilton must have been impressed by the principles of the german reformer, and have made no secret of his views when he returned to scotland; for in the beginning of he was a suspected heretic, and was ordered to be summoned and accused as such. he fled from scotland, went to wittenberg, was at the opening of philip of hesse's new evangelical university of marburg (may th, ), and drafted the theses for the first academic disputation.[ ] he felt constrained, however, to return to his native land to testify against the corruptions of the roman church, and was preaching in scotland in the end of autumn . the success attending his ministry excited the fears of the prelates. he was invited, or rather enticed, to st. andrews; allowed for nearly a month to preach and dispute in the university; and was then arrested and tried in the cathedral. the trial took place in the forenoon, and at mid-day he was hurried to the stake (feb. th, ). the fire by carelessness rather than with intention was slow, and death came only after lingering hours of agony. if the ecclesiastical authorities thought to stamp out the new faith by this martyrdom, they were soon to discover their mistake. alexander alane (alesius), who had undertaken to convince patrick hamilton of his errors, had been himself converted. he was arrested and imprisoned, but escaped to the continent. the following years witnessed a succession of martyrs--henry forrest ( ), david stratton and norman gourlay ( ), duncan simpson, forrester, keillor, beverage, forret, russell, and kennedy ( ). the celebrated george buchanan was imprisoned, but managed to escape.[ ] the scots parliament and privy council assisted the churchmen to extirpate the new faith in a series of enactments which themselves bear witness to its spread. in , in a series of acts (march th) it was declared that the virgin mary was "to be reverently worshipped, and prayers made to her" for the king's prosperity, for peace with all christian princes, for the triumph of the "faith catholic," and that the people "may remain in the faith and conform to the statutes of holy kirk." prayers were also ordered to be made to the saints. it was forbidden to argue against, or impugn, the papal authority under pain of death and confiscation of "goods movable and immovable." no one is to "cast down or otherwise treat irreverently or in any ways dishonour" the images of saints canonised by the church. heretics who have seen the error of their ways are not to discuss with others any matters touching "our holy faith." no one suspected of heresy, even if he has recanted, is to be eligible to hold any office, nor to be admitted to the king's council. all who assist heretics are threatened with severe punishment. in , notwithstanding all this legislation, the lord governor (the earl of arran) had to confess that heretics increase rapidly, and spread opinions contrary to the church.[ ] the terms of some of these enactments show that the new faith had been making converts among the nobility; and they also indicate the chief points of attack on the roman church in scotland. in (dec. th), james v. died, leaving an infant daughter, mary (b. dec. th), who became the queen of scots when barely a week old. thus scotland was again harassed with an infant sovereign; and there was the usual scramble for the regency, which this time involved questions of national policy as well as personal aggrandisement. it was the settled policy of the tudor kings to detach scotland from the old french alliance, and secure it for england. the marriage of margaret tudor to james iv. shows what means they thought to employ, and but for margaret's quarrel with the earl of angus, her second husband, another wedding might have bound the nations firmly together. the french marriages of james v., first with madeleine, daughter of francis i. ( ), and on her premature death with mary of guise ( ), showed the recoil of scotland from the english alliance. james' death gave henry viii. an opportunity to renew his father's schemes, and his idea was to betroth his boy edward to the baby mary, and get the "little queen" brought to england for education. many scotsmen thought the proposal a good one for their country, and perhaps more were induced to think so by the money which henry lavished upon them to secure their support they made the english party in scotland. the policy of english alliance as against french alliance was complicated by the question of religion. whatever may be thought of the character of the english reformation at this date, henry viii. had broken thoroughly with the papacy, and union with england would have dragged scotland to revolt against the mediæval church. the leader of the french and romanist party in scotland was david beaton, certainly the ablest and perhaps the most unscrupulous man there. he had been made archbishop of st. andrews, coadjutor to his aged uncle, in . in the same month, pope paul iii., who needed a churchman of the highest rank to publish his bull against henry viii. in a place as near england as was possible to find, had sent him a cardinal's hat. the cardinal, beaton, stood in scotland for france and rome against england and the reformation. the struggle for the regency in scotland in carried with it an international and a religious policy. the clouds heralding the storm which was to destroy mary, gathered round the cradle of the baby queen. at first the english faction prevailed. the claims of the queen mother were scarcely considered. beaton produced a will, said to have been fraudulently obtained from the dying king, appointing him and several of the leading nobles of scotland, governors of the kingdom. this arrangement was soon set aside, the earl of arran was appointed governor (jan. rd, ), and beaton was confined in blackness castle. the governor selected john rough for his chaplain and thomas williams for his preacher, both ardent reformers. the acts of the previous reign against heresy were modified to the extent that men suspect of heresy might enjoy office, and heretics were accorded more merciful treatment. moreover, an act of parliament (march th, ) permitted the possession and reading of a good and true translation of the old and new testaments. but the masterful policy of henry viii. and the weakness of the governor brought about a change. beaton was released from blackness and restored to his own castle of st. andrews; the governor dismissed his reformed preachers; the privy council (june nd, ) forbade on pain of death and confiscation of goods all criticism of the mediæval doctrine of the sacraments, and forbade the possession of heretical books. in september, arran and beaton were reconciled; in december, the parliament annulled the treaties with england consenting to a marriage between edward and mary, and the ancient league with france was renewed. this was followed by the revival of persecution, and almost all that had been gained was lost. henry's ruthless devastation of the borders did not mend matters. the more enlightened policy of lord protector somerset could not allay the suspicions of the scottish nation. their "little queen" was sent to france to be educated by the guises, "to the end that in hir youth she should drynk of that lycour, that should remane with hir all hir lyfetyme, for a plague to this realme, and for hir finall destructioun."[ ] but if the reformation movement was losing ground as a national policy, it was gaining strength as a spiritual quickening in the hearts of the people. george wishart, one of the wisharts of pittarrow, who had fled from persecution in and had wandered in england, germany, and switzerland, returned to his native country about , consumed with the desire to bear witness for the gospel. he preached in montrose, and dundee during a visitation of the plague, and ayrshire. beaton's party were anxious to secure him, and after a preaching tour in the lothians he was seized in ormiston house and handed over to the earl of bothwell, who, breaking pledges he had made, delivered him to the cardinal; he lodged him in the dungeon at st. andrews (end of jan. ), and had him tried in the cathedral, when he was condemned to the stake (march st, ). wishart was knox's forerunner, and during this tour in the lothians, knox had been his constant companion. the romanist party had tried to assassinate the bold preacher, and knox carried a two-handed sword ready to cut down anyone who attempted to strike at the missionary while he was speaking. all the tenderness which lay beneath the sternness of knox's character appears in the account he gives of wishart in his _history_. and to wishart, knox was the beloved disciple. when he foresaw that the end was near, he refused to allow knox to share his danger.[ ] assassination was a not infrequent way of getting rid of a political opponent in the sixteenth century, and beaton's death had long been planned, not without secret promptings from england. three months after wishart's martyrdom (may th, ), norman lesley and kirkcaldy of grange at the head of a small band of men broke into the castle of st. andrews and slew the cardinal. they held the stronghold, and the castle became a place of refuge for men whose lives were threatened by the government, and who sympathised with the english alliance. the government laid siege to the place but were unable to take it, and their troops withdrew. john rough, who had been arran's reformed chaplain, joined the company, and began to preach to the people of st. andrews. knox, who had become a marked man, and had thought of taking refuge in germany, was persuaded to enter the castle, and there, sorely against his will, he was almost forced to stand forth as a preacher of the word. his first sermon placed him at once in the foremost rank of scottish reformers, and men began to predict that he would share the fate of wishart. "master george wishart spak never so plainelye, and yitt he was brunt: evin so will he be."[ ] next to nothing is known about the early history of john knox. he came into the world at or near haddington in the year ,[ ] but on what day or month remains hidden. he sprang from the commons of scotland, and his forebears were followers of the earls of bothwell; he was a papal notary, and in priest's orders in ; he was tutor to the sons of the lairds of ormiston and longniddry in ; he accompanied wishart in december and january , --these are the facts known about him before he was called to stand forward as a preacher of the reformation in scotland. he was then thirty-two--a silent, slow ripening man, with quite a talent for keeping himself in the background. knox's work in the castle and town of st. andrews was interrupted by the arrival of a french fleet (july ), which battered the walls with artillery until the castle was compelled to surrender. he and all the inmates were carried over to france. they had secured as terms of surrender that their lives should be spared; that they should be safely transported to france; and that if they could not accept the terms there offered to them by the french king, they should be allowed to depart to any country they might select for their sojourn, save scotland. it was not the custom, however, for french kings to keep promises made to heretics, and knox and his companions were made galley-slaves. for nineteen months he had to endure this living death, which for long drawn out torture can only be compared with what the christians of the earliest centuries had to suffer when they were condemned to the mines. he had to sit chained with four or six others to the rowing benches, which were set at right angles to the side of the ship, without change of posture by day, and compelled to sleep, still chained, under the benches by night; exposed to the elements day and night alike; enduring the lash of the overseer, who paced up and down the gangway which ran between the two lines of benches; feeding on the insufficient meals of coarse biscuit and porridge of oil and beans; chained along with the vilest malefactors. the french papists had invented this method of treating all who differed from them in religious matters. it could scarcely make knox the more tolerant of french policy or of the french religion. he seldom refers to this terrible experience. he dismisses it with: "how long i continewed prisoneir, what torment i susteaned in the galaies, and what war the sobbes of my harte, is now no time to receat: this onlie i can nocht conceall, which mo than one have hard me say, when the body was far absent from scotland, that my assured houp was, in oppin audience, to preache in sanctandrois befoir i depairted this lyeff."[ ] the prisoners were released from the galleys through the instrumentality of the english government in the early months of , and knox reached england by the th of april. it was there that he began his real work as a preacher of the reformation. he spent nearly five years as minister at berwick, at newcastle, and in london. he was twice offered preferment--the vacant bishopric of rochester in , and the vicarage of all hallows in bread st., london, in the beginning of . he refused both, and was actually summoned before the privy council to explain why he would not accept preferment.[ ] it is probable that he had something to do with the production of _the book of common prayer and administration of the sacraments and other rites and ceremonies in the church of england, _, commonly called the _second prayer-book_ of king edward vi. the rubric explaining kneeling at the partaking of the holy supper, or at least one sentence in it, is most probably due to his remonstrances or suggestions.[ ] the accession of mary tudor to the throne closed his career in england; but he stuck to his work long after his companion preachers had abandoned it. he was in london, and had the courage to rebuke the rejoicings of the crowd at her entry into the capital--a fearless, outspoken man, who could always be depended on for doing what no one else dared. knox got safely across the channel, travelled through france by ways unknown, and reached geneva. he spent some time with calvin, then went on to zurich to see bullinger. he appears to have been meditating deeply on the condition of scotland and england, and propounded a set of questions to these divines which show that he was trying to formulate for himself the principles he afterwards asserted on the rights of subjects to restrain tyrannical sovereigns.[ ] the years - , with the exception of a brief visit to scotland in the end of , were spent on the continent, but were important for his future work in scotland. they witnessed the troubles in the frankfurt congregation of english exiles, where knox's broad-minded toleration and straightforward action stands in noble contrast with the narrow-minded and crooked policy of his opponents. they were the time of his peaceful and happy ministrations among the refugees at geneva. they made him familiar with the leading protestants of france and of switzerland, and taught him the inner political condition of the nations of europe. they explain knox's constant and accurate information in later years, when he seemed to learn about the doings of continental statesmen as early as cecil, with all the resources of the english foreign office behind him. above all, they made him see that, humanly speaking, the fate of the whole reformation movement was bound up with an alliance between a protestant england and a protestant scotland. knox returned to scotland for a brief visit of about ten months (sept. -july ). he exhorted those who visited him in his lodgings in edinburgh, and made preaching tours, dispensing the lord's supper according to the reformed rite on several occasions. he visited dun, calder house, barr, ayr, ochiltree, and several other places, and was welcomed in the houses of many of the nobility. he left for geneva in july, having found time to marry his first wife, marjory bowes,--_uxor suavissima_, and "a wife whose like is not to be found everywhere,"[ ] calvin calls her,--and having put some additional force into the growing protestantism of his native land. he tells us that most part of the gentlemen of the mearns "band thame selfis, to the uttermost of thare poweris, to manteane the trew preaching of the evangell of jesus christ, as god should offer unto thame preacheris and opportunitie"--whether by word of mouth or in writing, is not certain.[ ] in (dec. rd) the protestants of scotland laid the foundations of a definite organisation. it took a form familiar enough in the civil history of the country, where the turbulent character of the scottish barons and the weakness of the central authority led to constant confederations to carry out with safety enterprises sometimes legal and sometimes outside the law. the confederates promised to assist each other in the work proposed, and to defend each other from the consequences following. such agreements were often drafted in legal fashion by public notaries, and made binding by all forms of legal security known. the _lords of the congregation_, as they came to be called, followed a prevailing custom when they promised-- "befoir the majestie of god and his congregatioun, that we (be his grace) shall with all diligence continually apply our hole power, substance, and our verray lyves, to manteane, sett fordward, and establish the most blessed word of god and his congregatioun; and shall laubour at our possibilitie to have faythfull ministeris purely and trewlie to minister christis evangell and sacramentes to his people."[ ] this "band subscrived by the lords" was the first (if the promise made by the gentlemen of the mearns be excepted) of the many covenants famous in the history of the church of scotland reformed.[ ] it was an old scottish usage now impregnated with a new spiritual meaning, and become a public promise to god, after old testament fashion, to be faithful to his word and guidance. this important act had immediate consequences. the confederated lords sent letters to knox, then at geneva, and to calvin, urging the return of the scottish reformer to his native land. they also passed two notable resolutions: "first, it is thought expedient, devised and ordeaned that in all parochines of this realme the common prayeris (probably the second prayer-book of edward vi.)[ ] be redd owklie (weekly) on sounday, and other festuall dayis, publictlie in the paroche kirkis, with the lessonis of the new and old testament, conforme to the ordour of the book of common prayeris: and yf the curattis of the parochynes be qualified to cause thame to reid the samyn; and yf thei be nott, or yf thei refuise, that the maist qualified in the parish use and read the same. secoundly, it is thought necessare that doctrin, preacheing and interpretatioun of scriptures be had and used privatlie in qwyet housis, without great conventionis of the people tharto, whill afterward that god move the prince to grant publict preacheing be faithful and trew ministeris."[ ] the earl of argyle set the example by maintaining john douglas, and making him preach publicly in his mansion. this conduct evidently alarmed the queen mother, who had been made regent in (april th), and she attempted to stir the primate to exercise his powers for the repression of heresy. the archbishop wrote to argyle urging him to dismiss douglas, apologising at the same time for his interference by saying that the queen wondered that he could "thole" persons with perverted doctrine within his diocese. another step in advance was taken some time in , when it was resolved to give the _congregation_, the whole company of those in scotland who sincerely accepted the evangelical reformation, "the face of a church," by the creation and recognition of an authority which could exercise discipline. a number of elders were chosen "by common election," to whom the whole of the brethren promised obedience. the lack of a publicly recognised ministry was supplied by laymen, who gave themselves to the work of exhortation; and at the head of them was to be found erskine of dun. the first regularly constituted reformed church in scotland was in the town of dundee.[ ] the organisation gave the protestant leaders boldness, and, through sir james sandilands, they petitioned the regent to permit them to worship publicly according to the reformed fashion, and to reform the wicked lives of the clergy. this led to the offer of a compromise, which was at once rejected, as it would have compelled the reformed to reverence the mass, and to approve of prayers to the saints. the queen mother then permitted public worship, save in leith and edinburgh. the lords of the congregation next demanded a suspension of the laws which gave the clergy power to try and punish heresy, until a general council, lawfully assembled, should decide upon points then debated in religion; and that all suspected of heresy should have a fair trial before "temporal judges."[ ] when the regent, who gave them "amyable lookis and good wordes in aboundance," refused to allow their petition to come before the estates, and kept it "close in hir pocket," the reformers resolved to go to parliament directly with another petition, in which they declared that since they had not been able to secure a reformation, they had resolved to follow their own consciences in matters of religion; that they would defend themselves and all of their way of thinking if attacked; that if tumults arose in consequence, the blame was with those who refused a just reformation; and that in forwarding this petition they had nothing in view but the reformation of abuses in religion.[ ] knox had been invited by the earl of glencairn, the lords erskine and lorn, and james stewart (afterwards the earl of moray), to return to scotland in .[ ] he reached dieppe in october, and found letters awaiting him which told him that the times were not ripe. the answer he sent spurred the reforming lords to constitute the _band_ of december . it was while he was at dieppe, chafing at the news he had received, that he composed the violent treatise, entitled _the first blast of the trumpet against the monstrous regiment of women_[ ]--a book which did more to hamper his future than anything else. the state of things was exasperating to a man who longed to be at work in scotland or england. "bloody" mary in england was hounding on her officials to burn knox's co-religionists, and the reformation, which had made so much progress under edward vi., seemed to be entirely overthrown; while mary of guise, the queen mother and regent in scotland, was inciting the unwilling archbishop of st. andrews to make use of his legatine and episcopal powers to repress the believers of his native land. but as chance would have it, mary tudor was dead before the pamphlet was widely known, and the queen whom of all others he desired to conciliate was seated on the throne of england, and had made william cecil, the staunchest of protestants, her secretary of state. she could scarcely avoid believing that the _blast_ was meant for her; and, even if not, it was based on such general principles that it might prove dangerous to one whose throne was still insecure. it is scarcely to be wondered at that the queen never forgave the vehement writer, and that the _blast_ was a continual obstacle to a complete understanding between the scottish reformer and his english allies.[ ] if knox would never confess publicly to queens, whether to elizabeth tudor or to mary stuart; that he had done wrong, he was ready to say to a friend whom he loved: "my rude vehemencie and inconsidered affirmations, which may rather appear to procead from coler then of zeal and reason, i do not excuse."[ ] it was the worse for knox and for scotland, for the reign of women had begun. charles v., francis i., and henry viii. had passed away, and the destinies of europe were to be in the hands of elizabeth, catherine de' medici, mary stuart, and philip of spain, the most felinely feminine of the four. events marched fast in scotland after knox returned in the early summer of . the queen regent and the lords of the congregation were facing each other, determined on a trial of strength. knox reached edinburgh on may nd, , and hurried on to dundee, where the reformed had gathered in some force. they had resolved to support their brethren in maintaining public worship according to the usages of the reformed church, and in repressing "idolatrie" in all towns where a majority of the inhabitants had declared for the reformed religion. the regent threw down the gauntlet by summoning the preachers to appear before her, and by inhibiting their preaching. the lords took it up by resolving that they would answer the summons and appear along with their preachers. a letter was addressed to the regent (may th, ) by "the professouris of christis evangell in the realme of scotland." it was an admirable statement of the principles of the scottish reformation, and may be thus summarised: "it records the hope, once entertained by the writers, that god would make her the instrument of setting up and maintaining his word and true worship, of defending his congregation, and of downputting all idolatry, abomination, and superstition in the realm; it expresses their grief on learning that she was determined to do the very opposite; it warns her against crossing the bounds of her own office, and usurping a power in christ's kingdom which did not belong to her; it distinguishes clearly between the civil jurisdiction and the spiritual; it asks her to recall her letters inhibiting god's messengers; it insists that his message ought to be received even though the speaker should lack the ordinary vocation; it claims that the ministers who had been inhibited were sent by god, and were also called according to scriptural order; it points out that her commands must be disobeyed if contrary to god's, and that the enemies were craftily inducing her to command unjust things so that the professors, when they disobeyed, might be condemned for sedition and rebellion; it pled with her to have pity on those who were seeking the glory of god and her true obedience; it declared that, by god's help, they would go forward in the way they had begun, that they would receive and assist his ministers and word, and that they would never join themselves again to the abominations they had forsaken, though all the powers on earth should command them to do so; it conveyed their humble submission to her, in all obedience due to her in peace, in war, in body, in goods and in lands; and it closed with the prayer that the eternal god would instruct, strengthen, and lead her by his spirit in the way that was acceptable to him."[ ] then began a series of trials of strength in which the regent had generally the better, because she was supplied with disciplined troops from france, which were more than a match for the feudal levies of the lords of the congregation. the uprising of the people against the regent and the prelates was characterised, as in france and the low countries, with an outbreak of iconoclasm which did no good to the protestant cause. in the three countries the "raschall multitude" could not be restrained by the exhortation of the preachers nor by the commandment of the magistrates from destroying "the places of idolatrie."[ ] from the beginning, knox had seen that the reformers had small hope of ultimate success unless they were aided from england; and he was encouraged to expect help because he knew that the salvation of protestant england lay in its support of the lords of the congregation in scotland. the years from to were the most critical in the whole history of the reformation. the existence of the protestantism of all europe was involved in the struggle in scotland; and for the first and perhaps last time in her history the eyes that had the furthest vision, whether in rome, for centuries the citadel of mediævalism, or in geneva, the stronghold of protestantism, were turned towards the little backward northern kingdom. they watched the birth-throes of a new nation, a british nation which was coming into being. two peoples, long hereditary foes, were coalescing; the romanists in england recognised the scottish queen as their legitimate sovereign, and the protestants in scotland looked for aid to their brethren in england. the question was: would the new nation accept the reformed religion, or would the reaction triumph? if knox and the congregation gained the upper hand in scotland, and if cecil was able to guide england in the way he meant to lead it (and the two men were necessary to each other, and knew it), then the reformation was safe. if scotland could be kept for france and the roman church, and its romanist queen make good her claim to the english throne, then the reformation would be crushed not merely within great britain, but in germany and the low countries also. so thought the politicians, secular and ecclesiastical, in rome and geneva, in paris, madrid, and in london. the european situation had been summed up by cecil: "the emperor is aiming at the sovereignty of europe, which he cannot obtain without the suppression of the reformed religion, and, unless he crushes england, he cannot crush the reformation." in this peril a scotland controlled by the guises would have been fatal to the existence of the reformation. in the odds seemed in favour of reaction, if only its supporters were whole-hearted enough to put aside for the time national rivalries. the treaty of cateau-cambrésis, concluded scarcely a month before knox reached scotland (april ), had secret clauses which bound the kings of france and spain to crush the protestantism of europe, in terms which made the young prince of orange, when he learned them, vow silently to devote his life to protect his fellow-countrymen and drive the "scum of the spaniards" out of the netherlands. henry ii. of france, with his edict of chateaubriand and his _chambre ardente_, with the duke of guise and the cardinal lorraine to counsel him, and diane of poitiers to keep him up to the mark, was doing his best to exterminate the protestants of france. dr. christopher mundt kept reporting to queen elizabeth and her minister the symptoms of a general combination against the protestants of europe--symptoms ranging from a proposed conquest of denmark to the emperor's forbidding members of his household to attend protestant services.[ ] throckmorton wrote almost passionately from paris urging cecil to support the scottish lords of the congregation; and even dr. mundt in strassburg saw that the struggle in scotland was the most important fact in the european situation.[ ] yet it was difficult for cecil to send the aid which knox and the scottish protestants needed sorely. it meant that the sovereign of one country aided men of another country who were _de jure_ rebels against their own sovereign. it seemed a hazardous policy in the case of a queen like elizabeth, who was not yet freed from the danger arising from rebellious subjects. there was france, with which england had just made peace. cecil had difficulties with elizabeth. she did not like calvin himself. she had no sympathy with his theology, which, with its mingled sob and hosanna, stirred the hearts of oppressed peoples. there was knox and his _blast_, to say nothing of his appealing to the commonalty of his country. "god keep us from such visitations as knockes hath attempted in scotland; the people to be orderers of things!" wrote dr. parker to cecil on the th of november.[ ] yet cecil knew--no man better--that if the lords of the congregation failed there was little hope for a protestant england, and that elizabeth's crown and dr. parker's mitre depended on the victory of knox in scotland. he watched the struggle across the border. he had made up his mind as early as july th, , that assistance must be given to the lords of the congregation "with all fair promises first, next with money, and last with arms."[ ] the second stage of his programme was reached in november; and, two days before the archbishop of canterbury was piously invoking god's help to keep knox's influences out of england, cecil had resolved to send money to scotland and to entrust its distribution to knox. the memorandum runs: knox to be a counsel with the payments, to see that they be employed to the common action.[ ] the third stage--assistance with arms--came sooner than might have been expected. the condition of france became more favourable. henry ii. had died (july th, ), and the guises ruled france through their niece mary and her sickly devoted husband. but the bourbon princes and many of the higher nobles did not take kindly to the sudden rise of a family which had been french for only two generations, and the easiest way to annoy them was to favour publicly or secretly "those of the religion." there was unrest in france. "beat the iron while it is hot," throckmorton wrote from paris; "their fair flatterings and sweet language are only to gain time."[ ] cecil struck. he had a sore battle with his royal mistress, but he won.[ ] an arrangement was come to between england and the lords of the congregation acting on behalf "of the second person of the realm of scotland" (treaty of berwick, may th, ).[ ] an english fleet entered the firth of forth; an english army beleaguered the french troops in leith fort; and the end of it was that france was obliged to let go its hold on scotland, and never thoroughly recovered it (treaty of edinburgh, july th, ).[ ] the great majority of the scottish people saw in the english victory only their deliverance from french tyranny, and for the first time a conquering english army left the scottish soil followed by blessings and not curses. the scottish liturgy, which had contained _prayers used in the churches of scotland in the time of their persecution by the frenchmen_, was enriched by a _thanksgiving unto god after our deliverance from the tyranny of the frenchmen; with prayers made for the continuance of the peace betwixt the realms of england and scotland_, which contained the following petition: "and seeing that when we by our owne power were altogether unable to have freed ourselves from the tyranny of strangers, and from the bondage and thraldome pretended against us, thou of thyne especial goodnes didst move the hearts of our neighbours (of whom we deserved no such favour) to take upon them the common burthen with us, and for our deliverance not only to spend the lives of many, but also to hazards the estate and tranquillity of their realme and commonwealth: grant unto us, o lord, that with such reverence we may remember thy benefits received that after this in our defaute we never enter into hostilitie against the realme and nation of england."[ ] the regent had died during the course of the hostilities, and cecil, following and improving upon the wise policy of protector somerset, left it entirely to the scots to settle their own affairs.[ ] now or never was the opportunity for knox and the lords of the congregation. they had not been idle during the months since knox had arrived in scotland. they had strengthened the ties uniting them by three additional _bands_. at a meeting of the congregation of the west with the congregations of fife, perth, dundee, angus, mearns, and montrose, held in perth (may st, ), they had covenanted to spare neither "labouris, goodis, substancis, bodyis, and lives, in manteaning the libertie of the haill congregatioun and everie member thairof, aganis whatsomevir power that shall intend trubill for the caus of religion."[ ] they had renewed this _band_ in edinburgh on july th; and at stirling (aug. st) they had covenanted, "that nane of us sall in tymeis cuming pas to the quenis grace dowriare, to talk or commun with hir for any letter without consent of the rest and commone consultatioun."[ ] they had the bitter satisfaction of knowing that although the french troops and officers of the regent were too strong for them in the field, the insolence and rapine of these foreigners was rousing all ranks and classes in scotland to see that their only deliverance lay in the english alliance and the triumph of the reformation. the _band_ of (april th) included, with "the nobilitie, barronis, and gentilmen professing chryst jesus in scotland ... dyveris utheris that joyint with us, for expelling of the french army: amangis quham the erle of huntlie was principall."[ ] the estates or parliament met in edinburgh on july th, . neither the french nor the english soldiers had left; so they adjourned to august st, and again to the th.[ ] meanwhile knox and the congregation were busy. the reformer excelled himself in the pulpit of st. giles', lecturing daily on the book of the prophet haggai (on the building of the temple)--"a doctrine proper for the time."[ ] randolph wrote to cecil, aug. th: "sermons are daylie, and greate audience; though dyvers of the nobles present ar not resolved in religion, yet do thei repayre to the prechynges, which gevethe a good hope to maynie that god wyll bowe their hartes."[ ] the congregation held a great thanksgiving service in st. giles'; and after it arranged for eight fully constituted churches, and appointed five superintendents in matters of religion.[ ] they also prepared a petition for parliament asking for a settlement of the religious question in the way they desired.[ ] at the request of the estates or parliament, knox and five companions prepared _the confessioun of faith professit and belevit be the protestantis within the realme of scotland_, which was ratified and approved as "hailsome and sound doctrine, groundit upoun the infallible trewth of godis word." it was afterwards issued by the estates as the "summe of that doctrin quhilk we professe, and for the quhilk we haif sustenit infamy and daingear."[ ] seven days later (aug. th), the estates decreed that "the bischope of rome have na jurisdictioun nor authoritie in this realme in tymes cuming"; they annulled all acts of previous parliaments which were contrary to the confession of faith; and they forbade the saying, hearing, or being present at mass, under penalty of confiscation of goods and bodily punishment at the discretion of the magistrates for the first offence, of banishment for the second, and of death for the third.[ ] these severe penalties, however, were by no means rigidly enforced. lesley (roman catholic bishop of ross) says in his _history_: "the clemency of the heretic nobles must not be left unmentioned, since at that time they exiled few catholic on the score of religion, imprisoned fewer, and put none to death."[ ] one thing still required to be done--to draft a constitution for the new protestant church. the work was committed to the same ministers who had compiled the confession. they had been asked to prepare it as early as april th, and they had it ready for the lords of the congregation within a month. it was not approved by the estates; but was ordered to be submitted to the next general meeting, and was meanwhile translated into latin, to be sent to calvin, viret, and beza in geneva.[ ] the delay seemed to some to arise from the unwillingness of many of the lords to see "their carnal liberty and worldly commoditie impaired";[ ] but another cause was also at work. cecil evidently wished that the church in scotland should be uniform with the church in england, and had instructed randolph to press this question of uniformity. it was a favourite idea with statesmen of both countries--pressed on scotland by england during the reigns of james i. and charles i., and by scotland on england in the solemn league and covenant. randolph was wise enough to see that such uniformity was an impossibility.[ ] _the confession of the faith and doctrine, believed and professed by the protestants of scotland_, was translated into latin, and, under the title _confessio scoticana_, occupies an honoured place in the collections of the creeds of the reformed churches. it remained the symbol of the church of scotland during the first stormy century of its existence. it was displaced by the westminster confession in , only on the understanding that the later document was "in nothing contrary" to the former; and continued authoritative long after that date.[ ] drawn up in haste by a small number of theologians, it is more sympathetic and human than most creeds, and has commended itself to many who object to the impersonal logic of the westminster confession.[ ] the first sentence of the preface gives the tone to the whole: "lang have we thirsted, dear brethren, to have notified to the warld the sum of that doctrine quhilk we professe, and for quhilk we have susteined infamie and danger; bot sik has bene the rage of sathane againis us, and againis christ jesus his eternal veritie latlie now againe born amangst us, that to this daie na time has been graunted unto us to cleir our consciences as maist gladlie we wald have done."[ ] the preface also puts more clearly than any similiar document save the first confession of basel the reverence felt by the early reformers for the word of god and the renunciation of any claim to infallibility of interpretation: "protestand that gif onie man will note in this our confessioun onie artickle repugnand to gods halie word, that it wald pleis him of his gentleness and for christian charities sake to admonish us of the same in writing; and we upon our honoures and fidelitie, be gods grace do promise unto him satisfaction fra the mouth of god, that is fra his haly scriptures, or else reformation of that quhilk he sal prove to be amisse." the confession itself contains the truths common to the reformed creeds of the reformation. it contains all the oecumenical doctrines, as they have been called--that is, the truths taught in the early oecumenical councils, and embodied in the apostles' and nicene creeds; and adds those doctrines of grace, of pardon, and of enlightenment through word and spirit which were brought into special prominence by the reformation revival of religion. the confession is more remarkable for quaint suggestiveness of titles than for any special peculiarity of doctrine. thus the doctrine of revelation is defined by itself, apart from the doctrine of scripture, under the title of "the revelation of the promise." election is treated according to the view of earlier calvinism as a means of grace, and an evidence of the "invincible power" of the godhead in salvation. the "notes by which the true kirk is discerned from the false" are said to be the true preaching of the word of god, the right administration of the sacraments, and ecclesiastical discipline rightly administered. the authority of scriptures is said to come from god, and to depend neither "on man nor angels"; and the church knows them to be true, because "the true kirk always heareth and obeyeth the voice of her own spouse and pastor." randolph says in a letter to cecil (september th, ) that before the confession was publicly read it was revised by lethington and lord james stewart, who "dyd mytigate the austeritie of maynie wordes and sentences," and that a certain article which dealt with the "dysobediens that subjects owe unto their magistrates" was advised to be left out.[ ] thus amended it was read over, and then re-read article by article in the estates, and passed without alteration,[ ]--"no man present gainsaying."[ ] when it was read before the estates: "maynie offered to sheede ther blude in defence of the same. the old lord of lynsay, as grave and goodly a man as ever i sawe, said, 'i have lyved maynie yeres, i am the eldest in thys compagnie of my sorte; nowe that yt hathe pleased god to lett me see thys daye wher so maynie nobles and other have allowed so worthie a work, i will say with simion, _nunc dimittis_.'"[ ] a copy was sent to cecil, and maitland of lethington assured him that if there was anything in the confession of faith which the english minister misliked, "it may eyther be changed (if the mater so permit) or at least in some thyng qualifieed"; which shows the anxiety of the scots to keep step with their english allies.[ ] the authors of the confession were asked to draw up a short statement showing how a reformed church could best be governed. the result was the remarkable document which was afterwards called the _first book of discipline_, or _the policie and discipline of the church_.[ ] it provided for the government of the church by kirk-sessions, synods, and general assemblies; and recognised as office-bearers in the church, ministers, teachers, elders, deacons, superintendents, and readers. the authors of this book of discipline professed to go directly to scripture for the outlines of the system of church government which they advised their countrymen to adopt, and their profession was undoubtedly sincere and likewise just. they were, however, all of them men in sympathy with calvin, and had had personal intercourse with the protestants of france. their form of government is clearly inspired by calvin's ideas as stated in his _institution_, and follows closely the ecclesiastical ordinances of the french church. the offices of superintendent and reader were added to the usual threefold or fourfold presbyterian form of government. the former was due to the unsettled state of the country and the scarcity of protestant pastors. the _superintendents_ took charge of districts corresponding not very exactly with the episcopal dioceses, and were ordered to make annual reports to the general assembly of the ecclesiastical and religious state of their provinces, and to preach in the various churches in their district. the _readers_ owed their existence to the small number of protestant pastors, to the great importance attached by the early scottish reformers to an educated ministry, and also to the difficulty of procuring funds for the support of pastors in every parish. they were of two classes--those of a higher grade, who were permitted to deliver addresses and who were called _exhorters_; and those of the lower grade, whose duty it was to read "distinctly" the common prayers and the scriptures. both classes were expected to teach the younger children. _exhorters_ who studied theology diligently and satisfied the synod of their learning could rise to be ministers. the book of discipline contains a chapter on the patrimony of the church which urges the necessity of preserving monies possessed by the church for the maintenance of religion, the support of education, and the help of the poor. the presence of this chapter prevented the book being accepted by the estates in the same way as the confession of faith. the barons, greater and lesser, who sat there had in too many cases appropriated the "patrimony of the kirk" to their own private uses, and were unwilling to sign a document which condemned their conduct. the book of discipline approved by the general assembly, and signed by a large number of the nobles and burgesses, never received the legal sanction accorded to the confession. the general assembly of the reformed church of scotland met for the first time in ; and thereafter, in spite of the struggle in which the church was involved, meetings were held generally twice a year, sometimes oftener, and the church was organised for active work. a third book, variously called _the book of common order_,[ ] _the order of geneva_, and now frequently _knox's liturgy_, was a directory for the public worship and services of the church. it was usually bound up with a metrical version of the psalms, and is often spoken of as the _psalm book_. _calvin's catechism_ was translated and ordered to be used for the instruction of the youth in the faith. later, the _heidelberg catechism_ was translated and annotated for the same purpose. they were both superseded by _craig's catechism_, which in its turn gave way to the _larger_ and _shorter catechisms_ of the westminster divines.[ ] the democratic ideas of presbyterianism, enforced by the practical necessity of trusting in the people, made the scotch reformers pay great attention to education. all the leaders of the reformation, whether in germany, france, or holland, had felt the importance of enlightening the commonalty; but perhaps scotland and holland were the two countries where the attempt was most successful. the education of the people was no new thing in scotland; and although in the troublous times before and during the reformation high schools had disappeared and the universities had decayed, still the craving for learning had not altogether died out. knox and his friend george buchanan had a magnificent scheme of endowing schools in every parish, high schools or colleges in all important towns, and of increasing the power and influence of the universities. their scheme, owing to the greed of the barons, who had seized the church property, was little more than a devout imagination; but it laid hold on the mind of scotland, and the lack of endowments was more than compensated by the craving of the people for education. the three universities of st. andrews, glasgow, and aberdeen took new life, and a fourth, the university of edinburgh, was founded. scotch students who had been trained in the continental schools of learning, and who had embraced the reformed faith, were employed to superintend the newly-organised educational system of the country, and the whole organisation was brought into sympathy with the everyday life of the people by the preference given to day schools over boarding schools, and by a system of inspection by the most pious and learned men in each circle of parishes. knox also was prepared to order compulsory attendance at school on the part of two classes of society, the upper and the lower--the middle class he thought might be trusted to its own natural desire for learning; and he wished to see the state so exercise power and patronage as to lay hold on all youths "of parts" and compel them to proceed to the high schools and universities, that the commonwealth might get the greatest good of their service. the form of church government given in the _first book of discipline_ represented rather an outline requiring to be filled in than a picture of what actually existed for many a year after . it provided for a form of church government by ecclesiastical councils rising from the session of the individual congregation up to a national assembly, and its first requisite was a fully organised church in every parish ruled by a minister with his session or council of elders and his body of deacons. but there was a great lack of men having the necessary amount of education to be ordained as ministers, and consequently there were few fully equipped congregations. the first court in existence was the kirk-session; it was in being in every organised congregation. the second in order of time was the general assembly. its first meeting was in edinburgh, dec. th, . forty-two members were present, of whom only six were ministers. these were the small beginnings from which it grew. the synods came into existence later. at first they were yearly gatherings of the ministry of the superintendent's district, to which each congregation within the district was asked to send an elder and a deacon. the court of the presbytery came latest into existence; it had its beginnings in the "weekly exercise." the work had been rapidly done. barely a year had elapsed between the return of knox to scotland and the establishment of the reformed religion by the estates. calvin wrote from geneva (nov. th, ): "as we wonder at success incredible in so short a time, so also we give great thanks to god, whose special blessing here shines forth." and knox himself, writing from the midst of the battle, says:[ ] "we doe nothing but goe about jericho, blowing with trumpets, as god giveth strength, hoping victorie by his power alone."[ ] but dangers had been imminent; shot at through his window, deadly ambushes set, and the man's powers taxed almost beyond endurance: "in twenty-four hours i have not four free to naturall rest and ease of this wicked carcass ... i have nead of a good and an assured horse, for great watch is laid for my apprehension, and large money promissed till any that shall kyll me."[ ] if the victory had been won, it was not secured. the sovereigns mary and francis had refused to ratify the acts of their estates; and it was not until mary was deposed in that the acts of the estates of were legally placed on the statute book of scotland. francis ii. died in (dec. th), and mary the young and widowed queen returned to her native land (aug. th, ). her coming was looked forward to with dread by the party of the reformation. there was abundant reason for alarm. mary was the stuart queen; she represented france, the old hereditary ally; she had been trained from childhood by a consummate politician and deadly enemy of the reformation, her uncle the cardinal of lorraine, to be his instrument to win back scotland and england to the deadliest type of romanism. she was a lovely creature, and was, besides, gifted with a power of personal fascination greater than her physical charms, and such as no other woman of her time possessed; she had a sweet caressing voice, beautiful hands; and not least, she had a gift of tears at command. she had been brought up at a court where women were taught to use all such charms to win men for political ends. the _escadron volant de la reine_ had not come into existence when mary left france, but its recruits were ready, and some of them had been her companions. she had made it clearly understood that she meant to overthrow the reformation in scotland.[ ] her unscrupulous character was already known to knox and the other protestant leaders. nine days before her marriage she had signed deeds guaranteeing the ancient liberties and independence of scotland; six days after her marriage she and her husband had appended their signatures to the same deeds; but twenty days before her wedding she had secretly signed away these very liberties, and had made scotland a mere appanage of france.[ ] they suspected that the party in france whose figure-head she was, would stick at no crime to carry out their designs, and had shown what they were ready to do by poisoning four of the scotch commissioners sent to paris for their young queen's wedding, because they refused to allow francis to be immediately crowned king of scotland.[ ] they knew how apt a pupil she had already shown herself in their school, when she led her boy husband and her ladies for a walk round the castle of amboise, to see the bodies of dozens of protestants hung from lintels and turrets, and to contemplate "the fair clusters of grapes which the grey stones had produced."[ ] it was scarcely wonderful that lord james, morton, and lethington, were it not for obedience' sake, "cared not thoughe theie never saw her face," and felt that there was no safety for them but in elizabeth's protection. as for knox, we are told: "mr. knox is determined to abide the uttermost, and others will not leave him till god have taken his life and theirs together."[ ] what use might she not make of these fascinations of hers on the vain, turbulent nobles of scotland? is it too much to say that but for the passionate womanly impulse--so like a stuart[ ]--which made her fling herself first into the arms of darnley and then of bothwell, and but for knox, she might have succeeded in re-establishing popery in scotland and in reducing protestant england? cecil himself was not without his fears, and urged the protestants in scotland to stand firm. randolph's answer shows how much he trusted knox's tenacity, however much he might sometimes deprecate his violence: "where your honour exhortethe us to stowteness, i assure you the voyce of one man is hable in one hower to put more lyf in us than five hundred trompettes contynually blusteringe in our eares."[ ] he was able to write after mary's arrival: "she (mary) was four days without mass; the next sunday after arrival she had it said in her chapel by a french priest. there were at it besides her uncles and her own household, the earle of montrose, lord graham ... the rest were at mr. knox sermon, as great a number as ever was any day."[ ] mary's advisers, her uncles, knew how dangerous the state of scotland was for their designs, and counselled her to temporise and gradually win over the leading reforming nobles to her side. the young queen entered on her task with some zest. she insisted on having mass for her own household; but she would maintain, she promised, the laws which had made the mass illegal in scotland; and it says a great deal for her powers of fascination and dissimulation that there was scarcely one of the reforming nobles that she did not win over to believe in her sincerity at one time or another, and that even the sagacious randolph seemed for a time to credit that she meant what she said.[ ] knox alone in scotland read her character and paid unwilling tribute to her abilities from his first interview with her.[ ] he saw that she had been thoroughly trained by her uncles, and especially by the cardinal of lorraine, and that it was hopeless to expect anything like fair dealing from her: "in verry dead hir hole proceadings do declayr that the cardinalles lessons ar so deaplie prented in hir heart, that the substance and the qualitie ar liek to perische together. wold be glaid to be deceaved, but i fear i shall not. in communication with her, i espyed such craft as i have not found in such aige."[ ] maitland of lethington thought otherwise. writing to cecil (oct. th, ) he says: "you know the vehemency of mr. knox spreit, which cannot be brydled.... i wold wishe he shold deale with her more gently, _being a young princess unpersuaded_."[ ] it was thought that mary might be led to adopt the reformation if she were only tenderly guided. when mary's private correspondence is read, when the secret knowledge which her co-religionists abroad had of her designs is studied and known, it can be seen how true was knox's reading of her character and of her intentions.[ ] he stood firm, almost alone at times among the leading men, but faithfully supported by the commons of scotland.[ ] then began the struggle between the fascinating queen, mary stuart, one of the fairest flowers of the french renaissance, and the unbending preacher, trained in the sternest school of the reformation movement--a struggle which was so picturesque, in which the two opponents had each such strongly marked individuality, and in which the accessories were so dramatic, that the spectator insensibly becomes absorbed in the personal side of the conflict, and is tempted to forget that it was part of a revolution which was convulsing the whole of middle and western europe. a good deal has been written about the rudeness with which knox assailed mary in public and in private, and his conversations with her are continually referred to but seldom quoted in full. it is forgotten that it was mary who wished to try her gifts of fascination on the preacher, just as catherine de' medici tried to charm de bèze before poissy; that knox never sought an interview; that he never approached the court unless he was summoned by the sovereign to her presence; that he was deferential as a subject should be; and it was only when he was compelled by mary herself to speak on themes for which he was ready to lay down his life that he displayed a sternness which monarchs seldom experience in those to whom they give audience. what makes these interviews stand forth in history is that they exhibit the first clash of autocratic kingship and the hitherto unknown power of the people. it was an age in which sovereigns were everywhere gaining despotic power, when the might of feudal barons was being broken, when the commonalty was dumb. a young queen, whose training from childhood had stamped indelibly on her character that kingship meant the possession of unlimited autocratic privileges before which everything must give way, who had seen that none in france had dared dispute the will of her sickly, dull boy-husband simply because he was king, was suddenly confronted by something above and beyond her comprehension: "'what have ye to do,' said sche, 'with my marriage? or what ar ye within this commounwealth?' '_a subject borne within the same_,' said he, 'madam. and albeit i neather be erle, lord, nor barroun within it, yitt hes god maid me (how abject that ever i be in your eyes) a profitable member within the same.'"[ ] modern democracy came into being in that answer. it is curious to see how this conflict between autocratic power and the civil and religious rights of the people runs through all the interviews between mary and knox, and was, in truth, the question of questions between them.[ ] it is unnecessary to tell the story of the seven years of struggle between and . in the end, mary was imprisoned in lochleven castle, deposed, and her infant son, james vi., was placed on the throne. lord james stewart, earl of moray, was made regent. the estates or parliament again voted the confession of faith, and engrossed it in their acts. the regent, acting for the sovereign, signed the acts. the confession thus became part of the law of the land, and the reformed church was legally recognised in scotland. book iv. _the reformation in england_ chapter i. the church of henry viii.[ ] the church and people of england broke away from the mediæval papal ecclesiastical system in a manner so exceptional, that the rupture had not very much in common with the contemporary movements in france and germany. henry viii. destroyed the papal supremacy, spiritual and temporal, within the land which he governed; he cut the bands which united the church of england with the great western church ruled over by the bishop of rome; he built up what may be called a kingly papacy on the ruins of the jurisdiction of the pope. his starting-point was a quarrel with the pope, who refused to divorce him from catharine of aragon. it would be a mistake, however, to think that henry's eagerness to be divorced from catharine accounts for the english reformation. no king, however despotic, could have forced on such a revolution unless there was much in the life of the people that reconciled them to the change, and evidence of this is abundantly forthcoming. there was a good deal of _heresy_, so called, in england long before luther's voice had been heard in germany. men maintained that the tithes were exactions of covetous priests, and were not sanctioned by the law of god; they protested against the hierarchical constitution of the mediæval church; they read the scriptures, and attended services in the vernacular; and they scoffed at the authority of the church and attacked some of its doctrines. lollardy had never died out in england, and lollardy was simply the english form of that passive protest against the mediæval church which under various names had maintained itself in france, germany, and bohemia for centuries in spite of persecution. foxe's _acts and monuments_ show that there was a fairly active repression of so-called heresy in england before luther's days, and his accounts are confirmed by the state papers of the period. in , andreas ammonius, the latin secretary of henry viii., writing to erasmus, says that wood has grown scarce and dear because so much was needed to burn heretics, "and yet their numbers grow." yet dr. james gairdner declares that only a solitary pair had suffered during that year at the stake![ ] early in the archbishop of canterbury summoned a meeting of convocation for the express purpose of arresting the spread of heresy;[ ] in that same year erasmus was told by more that the _epistolæ obscurorum virorum_ were popular everywhere throughout england;[ ] and a commission was given to the bishop of coventry and others to inquire about lollards in wales and other parts;[ ] and as late as the bishop of london arrested five hundred lollards.[ ] in , henry viii. himself, always curious about theology and anxious to know about the books which interested his subjects, sent to oxford for a copy of the articles on which wiclif had been condemned.[ ] anyone who scoffed at relics or pilgrimages was thought to be a wiclifite.[ ] in , divinity students were required to take an oath to renounce the doctrines of wiclif, hus, and luther;[ ] and in , more, writing to erasmus, calls tyndale and his sympathisers wiclifites.[ ] henry viii. was engaged as early as in composing a book against heresy and vindicating the claims of the roman see, which in its first inception could scarcely be directed against luther, and probably dealt with the views of home heretics.[ ] some modern historians are inclined to find a strong english revolt against rome native to the soil and borrowing little or nothing from luther, which they believe to have been the initial force at work in shaping the english reformation. mr. pollard points out that in many particulars this reformation followed the lines laid down by wiclif. its leaders, like wiclif, denounced the papal supremacy on the ground of the political injury it did to the english people; declaimed against the sloth, immorality, and wealth of the english ecclesiastics; advocated a preaching ministry; and looked to the secular power to restrain the vices and reform the manners of the clergy, and to govern the church. he shows that "most of the english reformers were acquainted with wycliffe's works: cranmer declares that he set forth the truth of the gospel; hooper recalls how he resisted 'the popish doctrine of the mass'; ridley, how he denied transubstantiation; and bale, how he denounced the friars.... bale records with triumph that, in spite of the efforts to suppress (the writings of wicliffe), not one had utterly perished."[ ] and dr. rashdall goes the length of saying: "it is certain that the reformation had virtually broken out in the secret bible-readings of the cambridge reformers before either the trumpet-call of luther or the exigencies of henry viii.'s personal and political position set men free once more to talk openly against the pope and the monks, and to teach a simpler and more spiritual gospel than the system against which wycliffe had striven."[ ] even if it be admitted that these statements are somewhat strong, they at least call attention to the fact of the vigorous lollard leaven which permeated the english people, and are a very necessary corrective of the misleading assertions of dr. james gairdner on the matter. henry viii. had other popular forces behind him--the rooted dislike to the clergy which characterised a large mass of the people, the effects of the teaching of the christian humanists of england, and the spread of lutheran opinions throughout the land. the bishop of london, writing to wolsey about the proposal to try his chancellor, dr. horsey, for complicity in the supposed murder of richard hunne, declared that if the chancellor "be tried by any twelve men in london, they be so maliciously set _in favorem hæreticæ pravitatis_ that they will cast and condemn any clerk though he were as innocent as abel."[ ] this dislike was not confined to the capital. the parliaments showed themselves anti-clerical long before henry had thrown off his allegiance to rome;[ ] and englishmen could find no better term of insult to throw at the scots than to call them "pope's men."[ ] nor should the work of the christian humanists be forgotten. the double tendency in their longings for a reformation of the abuses of superstition, of pilgrimages, of relic-worship, etc., may be seen in the lives of sir thomas more and of william tyndale. when the former saw that reform meant the breaking up of the mediæval church, he became more and more conservative. but more in (feb. th) could write to lea that if the pope (leo x.) should withdraw his approval of erasmus' greek new testament, luther's attacks on the holy see were piety itself compared with such a deed.[ ] tyndale, the favourite pupil of dean colet, on the other hand, went forward and earned the martyr's crown. these christian humanists had expected much from henry viii., whom they looked on as imbued with the new learning; and in the end perhaps they were not altogether mistaken. if the _bishops' book_ and the _king's book_ be studied, it will be seen that in both what is insisted upon is a reformation of conduct and a study of the bible--quite in the spirit of colet and of erasmus. the writings of luther found early entrance into england, and were read by king[ ] and people. a long list of them, including six copies of his work _de potestate papæ_, is to be found in the stock of the oxford bookseller, john dorne[ ] ( ). erasmus, writing to oecolampadius (may th, ), declares that there are many of luther's books in england, and hints that but for his exertions they would have been burnt.[ ] that was before luther's official condemnation. on may th, silvester, bishop of worcester, wrote to wolsey from rome announcing that the cardinals had agreed to declare martin a heretic, and that a bull was being prepared on the subject.[ ] the bull itself appeared in rome on the th of june; and thereafter our information about luther's writings in england comes from evidence of endeavours to destroy them. warham, the archbishop of canterbury, wrote to wolsey (march th, ) that he had received letters from oxford which declared that the university was infected with lutheranism, and that the forbidden books were in circulation there.[ ] indeed, most of the canons appointed to wolsey's new foundation of the cardinal college were suspect. cambridge was as bad, if not worse. members of the university met at the white horse tavern to read and discuss luther's writings; the inn was called "germany," and those who frequented it "the germans." pope leo urged both the king and wolsey to prevent the circulation of lutheran literature; and they did their best to obey. we read that on may th, , wolsey went in great state to st. paul's, and after various ceremonies mounted a scaffold, seated himself "under a cloth of estate," and listened to a sermon preached by bishop fisher against lutheran errors. at his feet on the right side sat the pope's ambassadors and the archbishop of canterbury, and on the left side the imperial ambassadors and the bishop of durham. while the sermon was being preached, numbers of lutheran books were burnt in a huge bonfire kindled hard by in st. paul's churchyard.[ ] the representatives of pope and emperor saw it all, and doubtless reported to their respective courts that wolsey was doing his duty by church and empire. it may be doubted whether such theatrical exhibitions hindered the spread of luther's books in england or prevented them being read. all these things indicated a certain preparedness in england for the reformation, and all meant that there was a strong national force behind henry viii. when he at last made up his mind to defy rome. nor was a national separation from rome so formidable an affair as dr. gairdner would have us believe. the papacy had secularised itself, and european monarchs were accustomed to treat the popes as secular princes. the possibility of england breaking away from papal authority and erecting itself into a separate patriarchate under the archbishop of canterbury had been thought probable before the divorce was talked about.[ ] it was henry himself who clung strenuously to the conception of papal supremacy, and who advocated it in a manner only done hitherto by canonists of the roman curia. whatever be the secret reason which he gave to sir thomas more, and which silenced the latter's remonstrances, it is evident that the validity of henry's marriage and the legitimacy of his children by catharine of aragon depended on the pope being in possession of the very fullest powers of dispensation. henry had been married to catharine under very peculiar circumstances, which might well suggest doubts about the validity of the marriage ceremony. the england of henry vii. was almost as much a satellite of spain as scotland was of france, and to make the alliance still stronger a marriage was arranged between arthur, prince of wales, and catharine the youngest of the three daughters of ferdinand and isabella of spain. the spanish princess landed at plymouth (october nd, ), and the wedding took place in st. paul's on november th. but prince arthur died a few months afterwards (april nd, ), and catharine became a widow. the circumstances of the two nations appeared to require more than ever the cementing of the alliance by intermarriage, and it was proposed from the side of spain that the young widow should marry henry, her brother-in-law, now prince of wales.[ ] ferdinand brought pressure to bear on england by insisting that if this were not done catharine should be sent back to spain and the first instalment of her dowry (all that had been paid) returned. the two kings then besieged the pope, julius ii., to grant a dispensation for the marriage. at first his holiness was very unwilling to consent. such a marriage had been branded as sin by canonical law, and the pope himself had great doubts whether it was competent for him to grant a dispensation in such a case.[ ] in the end he was persuaded to give it. the two young people had their own scruples of conscience. ferdinand felt called upon to reason with his proposed son-in-law.[ ] the confessor of his daughter was changed.[ ] the archbishop of canterbury, who doubted whether the pope could grant dispensation for what was a mortal sin in his eyes, was silenced.[ ] the wedding took place (june th, ). the marriage was in one sense singularly unfortunate. the first four children were either stillborn or died soon after birth; and it was rumoured in rome as early as that henry might ask to be divorced in order to save england from a disputed succession. mary was born in and survived, but all the children who came afterwards were either stillborn or died in early infancy. it became evident by that if henry did not divorce his wife he would have no male heir. there is no doubt that the lack of a male heir troubled henry greatly. the english people had not been accustomed to a female sovereign; it was currently, if erroneously, reported in england that the laws of the land did not permit a woman to be sovereign, and such well-informed diplomatists as the venetian ambassadors believed the statement;[ ]and the tudor dynasty was not so firmly settled on the throne that it could afford to look forward to a disputed succession. the king's first idea was to ask the pope to legitimise his illegitimate son the duke of richmond;[ ]and cardinal campeggio actually suggested that the princess mary should be married to her half-brother.[ ] these projects came to an end with the death of the young prince. there seems to be no reason for questioning the sincerity of henry's doubts about the legitimacy of his marriage with catharine, or that he actually looked upon the repeated destruction of his hopes of a male heir as a divine punishment for the sin of that contract.[ ]questions of national policy and impulses of passion quicken marvellously conscientious convictions, but they do not show that the convictions are not real. in the perplexities of his position the shortest way out seemed to be to ask the pope to declare that he had never been legally married to catharine. if he had scruples of conscience about his marriage with his brother's widow, this would end them; if the fears of a disputed succession haunted him, he could marry again, and might hope for a son and a lawful heir whose succession none would dispute. cardinal wolsey adopted his master's plans, and the pope was to be asked for a declaration that the marriage with catharine had been no marriage at all. there entered, however, into all this, at what time it is not easy to determine, an element of sordidness which goes ill with asserted scruples of conscience and imperious necessities of state. wolsey was astonished when he learned that henry had made up his mind to marry anne boleyn, a lady whose station in life and personal reputation unfitted her for the position of queen of england. it was henry's inordinate, if not very long-lived, passion for this lady that put him in the wrong, and enabled the pope to pose as the guardian of the public morality of europe. it is plain that henry viii. fully expected that the pope would declare his first marriage invalid; there was many a precedent for such action--two in henry's own family;[ ] and the delay had nothing to do with the interests of public morality. the pope was at the time practically in the power of charles v., to whom his aunt, the injured catharine, had appealed, and who had promised her his protection. one has only to study the phases of the protracted proceedings in the "divorce" and compare them with the contemporary situation in italy to see that all that the curia cared for was the success of the papal diplomacy in the italian peninsula. the interests of morality were so little in his mind that clement proposed to henry more than once that the king might take a second wife without going through the formality of having his first marriage declared null and void.[ ] this had been the papal solution of the matter in an earlier instance, and clement vii. saw no reasons why what had been allowed to a king of spain should be denied to the king of england.[ ] he was prepared to tolerate bigamy, but not to thwart charles, so long as the emperor was master within italy.[ ] it is needless to follow the intricacies of the divorce. the protracted proceedings were an object lesson for english statesmen. they saw a grave moral question--whether a man could lawfully marry his deceased brother's widow; a matter vitally affecting the welfare of the english people--the possibility of a disputed succession; the personal wishes of a powerful, strong-willed, and choleric sovereign (for all considerations were present, not only the last)--all subjected to the shifting needs of a petty italian prince. so far as england was concerned, the grave interest in the case ended when campeggio adjourned the inquiry (july rd, ). henry knew that he could not expect the pope to give him what he wanted; and although his agents fought the case at rome, he at once began preparing for the separation from papal jurisdiction. the english nobles, who had long chafed under the rule of wolsey, took advantage of the great minister's failure in the divorce negotiations to press forward his downfall. he was deprived of the lord chancellorship, which was given to sir thomas more, and was further indicted before the king's bench for infringement of the law of _præmunire_--an accusation to which he pleaded guilty.[ ] meanwhile henry had taken measures to summon a parliament; and in the interval between summons and assembly, it had been suggested to him that cranmer was of opinion that the best way to deal with the divorce was to take it out of the hands of the curia and consult the canonists of the various universities of europe. cranmer was instructed to prepare the case to be laid before them. this was done so successfully that the two great english universities, the french universities of paris, orleans, bourges, and toulouse, decided that the king's marriage with catharine was not valid; the italian universities of ferrara, padua, pavia, and bologna came to the same conclusion in spite of a proclamation issued by the pope prohibiting all doctors from maintaining the invalid nature of the king's marriage.[ ] parliament met on november rd, , and, from the matters brought before it, received the name of the "parliament for the enormities of the clergy."[ ] it revealed the force of lay opinion on which henry might count in the struggle he was about to begin with the clergy. with a view of strengthening his hands still further, the king summoned an assembly of notables,[ ] which met on june th, , and addressed the pope in a letter in which they prayed him to consent to the king's desire, pointed out the evils which would follow from delaying the divorce, and hinted that they might be compelled to take the matter into their own hands. this seems to have been the general feeling among the laity of england; for a foreigner writing to the republic of florence says: "nothing else is thought of in that island every day, except of arranging affairs in such a way that they do no longer be in want of the pope, neither for filling vacancies in the church, nor for any other purpose."[ ] having made himself sure of the great mass of the laity, henry next set himself to force the clergy into submission. he suddenly charged them all with being guilty of _præmunire_ because they had accepted the authority of papal legates within the kingdom; and managed to extort a sum of £ , , to be paid in five yearly instalments, by way of a fine from the clergy of the province of canterbury.[ ] at the same meeting of convocation ( ) the clergy were compelled, under threat of the law of _præmunire_, to declare that the king was "their singular protector and only supreme lord, and, _as far as that is permitted by the law of christ_, the supreme head of the church and of the clergy." the ambiguity in the acknowledgment left a loophole for weak consciences; but the king was satisfied with the phrase, feeling confident that he could force his own interpretation of the acknowledgment on the church. "it is all the same," charles v.'s ambassador wrote to his master, "as far as the king is concerned, as if they had made no reservation; for no one now will be so bold as to contest with his lord the importance of this reservation."[ ] this acknowledgment was, according to the king, simply a clearer statement of what was contained in the old statutes of _præmunire_, and in all his subsequent ecclesiastical legislation he claimed that he was only giving effect to the earlier laws of england. the parliament of gave the king important assistance in forcing on the submission, not only of the clergy of england, but of the pope, to his wishes. the commons presented a petition complaining of various grievances affecting the laity in the working of the ecclesiastical courts, which was sent with a set of demands from the king to the convocation. the result was the important resolution of convocation (may th, ) which is called the _submission of the clergy_, where it is promised not to make any new canons without the king's licence and ratification, and to submit all previous canons to a committee of revision, to consist of thirty-two persons, sixteen from parliament and sixteen from the clergy, and all to be chosen by the king. this committee was to expunge all containing anything prejudicial to the king's prerogative. this act of convocation practically declared that the church of england could neither make any rules for its own guidance without the king's permission, nor act according to the common law of the mediæval church when that, in the king's opinion, invaded the royal prerogative.[ ] from this act the church of england has never been able to free itself. the other deed of this parliament which was destined to be of the greatest use to henry in his dealings with the pope was an act dealing with the _annates_, _i.e._ one year's income from all ecclesiastical benefices paid to the pope on entrance into any benefice. the act declared that the _annates_ should be withheld from the pope and given to the king, but permitted his majesty to suspend its operation so long as it pleased him.[ ] it was the suspensory clause which enabled henry to coerce the pope, and he was not slow to take advantage of it.[ ] writing to rome (march st, ), he said: "the pope and cardinals may gain our friendship by truth and justice. take care that they do not hope or despair too much from this power which has been committed to us by the statute. i do not mean to deceive them, but to tell them the fact that this statute will be to their advantage, if they show themselves deserving of it; if not, otherwise. nothing has been defined at present, which must be to their advantage if they do not despise my friendship."[ ] archbishop warham, who had presided at the convocation which made the submission of the clergy, died in august ; and henry resolved that cranmer, notwithstanding his unwillingness, should succeed him as archbishop of canterbury. cranmer conscientiously believed that the royal supremacy was a good thing, and would cure many of the ecclesiastical evils which no appeals to the pope seemed able to reform; and he was also convinced that the marriage of henry with catharine had been one for which not even the highest ecclesiastical authority could give a dispensation. he was prepared to carry out the king's wishes in both respects. he could not be an acceptable primate to the roman curia. yet henry, by threatening the pope with the loss of the _annates_, actually compelled him to send bulls to england, and that with unusual speed, ratifying the appointment to the primacy of a man who was known to believe in the nullity of the king's marriage, and to be ready to give effect to his opinion; and this at a time when the parliament of england had declared that the primate's court was the supreme ecclesiastical tribunal for the english church and people. the deed made the curia really responsible for almost all that followed in england. for parliament in february , acting on the submission of the clergy, had passed an act prohibiting all appeals to rome from the archbishop's court, and ordering that, if any appeals were taken, they must be to the king's court of chancery. this was the celebrated act of restraint of appeals.[ ] in the beginning of (jan. th), henry viii. was privately married to anne boleyn. he had taken the pope's advice in this one particular, to get married without waiting for the divorce; but soon afterwards (april th) he got from the convocation of canterbury a document declaring that the pope had no power to grant a dispensation in such a case as the marriage of henry with catharine;[ ] and the act of restraint of appeals had made such a decision practically final so far as england was concerned. cranmer was consecrated archbishop of canterbury on march th, . his opinions were known. he had been one of the cambridge "germans"; he had freely consorted with lutheran divines in germany; he had begun to pray in private for the abolition of the pope's power in england as early as ; and it was not without reason that chapuys called him a "lutheran."[ ] on april th, , the new primate asked the king to permit him to try the question of the divorce before his own ecclesiastical court; and leave was granted him on the following day, as the principal minister "of our spiritual jurisdiction."[ ] the trial was begun, and the court, acting on the decisions of convocation two months earlier, which had declared[ ] that no dispensation could be given for a marriage with the widow of a brother provided the marriage had been consummated, and[ ] that the marriage between arthur and catharine had been consummated, pronounced that the marriage between the king and catharine of aragon was null and void.[ ] this was followed by an inquiry about the marriage between the king and anne boleyn, which was pronounced valid, and preparations were made for the coronation of queen anne, which took place on june st, .[ ] this act of defiance to rome was at once resented by the pope. the curia declared that the marriage between henry and catharine was lawful, and a bull was issued commanding henry to restore catharine and put away anne within ten days on pain of excommunication; which sentence the emperor, all christian princes, and henry's own subjects were called upon to execute by force of arms.[ ] the action at rome was answered from england by the passing of several strong acts of parliament--all in . they completed the separation of the church and people of england from the see of rome. . the act forbidding the payment of _annates_ to the pope was again introduced, and this time made absolute; no _annates_ were for the future to be sent to rome as the first-fruits of any benefice. in the same act new provisions were made for the appointment of bishops; they were for the future to be elected by the deans and chapters on receiving a royal letter of leave and nomination.[ ] . an act forbidding the payment of peter's pence to the bishop of rome; forbidding all application to the pope for dispensations; and declaring that all such dispensations were to be sought for in the ecclesiastical courts within england.[ ] . the act of succession, which was followed by a second within the same year in which the nullity of the marriage of henry with catharine of aragon was clearly stated, and catharine was declared to be the "princess of wales," _i.e._ the widow of arthur; which affirms the validity of the king's marriage with anne boleyn, and declares that all the issue of that marriage are legitimate; and which affirms that, failing male succession, the crown falls to the princess elizabeth.[ ] . the supremacy act, which declares that the king is rightfully the _supreme head of the church of england_, has been recognised as such by convocation, and that it is within his powers to make ecclesiastical visitations and to redress ecclesiastical abuses.[ ] . the treasons act must also be included, inasmuch as one of its provisions is that it is treason to deny to the king any of his lawful titles (the supreme head of the church of england being one), and that treason includes calling the king a heretic or a schismatic.[ ] to complete the list, it is necessary to mention that the two convocations of canterbury and of york solemnly declared that "the roman pontiff had no greater jurisdiction bestowed on him by god in the holy scriptures than any other foreign (_externus_) bishop"--a declaration called the _abjuration of the papal supremacy by the clergy_.[ ] this separation of the church of england from rome really meant that instead of there being a dual control, there was to be a single one only. the kings of england had always claimed to have some control over the church of their realm; henry went further, and insisted that he would share that supervision with no one. but it should be noticed that what he did claim was, to use the terms of canon law, the _potestas jurisdictionis_, not the _potestas ordinis_; he never asserted his right to ordain or to control the sacraments. nor was there at first any change in definition of doctrines. the church of england remained what it had been in every respect, with the exception that the bishop of rome was no longer recognised as the _episcopus universalis_, and that, if appeals were necessary from the highest ecclesiastical courts in england, they were not to be taken as formerly to rome, but were to be settled in the king's courts within the land of england. the power of jurisdiction over the affairs of the church could scarcely be exercised by the king personally. appeals could be settled by his judges in the law courts, but he required a substitute to exercise his power of visitation. this duty was given to thomas cromwell, who was made vicar-general,[ ] and the office to some small extent may be said to resemble that of the papal legate; he represented the king as the legate had represented the pope. it was impossible, however, for the church of england to maintain exactly the place which it had occupied. there was some stirring of reformation life in the land. cranmer had been early attracted by the writings of luther; thomas cromwell was not unsympathetic, and, besides, he had the idea that there would be some advantage gained politically by an approach to the german protestants. there was soon talk about a set of articles which would express the doctrinal beliefs of the church of england. it was, however, no easy matter to draft them. while cranmer, cromwell, and such new bishops as latimer, had decided leanings towards the theology of the reformation, the older bishops held strongly by the mediæval doctrines. the result was that, after prolonged consultations, little progress was made, and very varying doctrines seem to have been taught, all of which tended to dispeace. in the end, the king himself, to use his own words, "was constrained to put his own pen to the book, and conceive certain articles which were agreed upon by convocation as catholic and meet to be set forth by authority."[ ] they were published in under the title, _articles devised by the kyng's highnes majestie to stablysh christen quietnes_, and were ordered to be read "plainly" in the churches.[ ] they came to be called the _ten articles_, the first doctrinal symbol of the church of england. according to the preface, they were meant to secure, by royal authority, unity and concord in religious beliefs, and to repress and utterly extinguish all dissent and discord. foxe the martyrologist describes them very accurately as meant for "weaklings newly weaned from their mother's milk of rome." five deal with doctrines and five with ceremonies. the bible, the three creeds (apostles', nicene, and athanasian), and the doctrinal decisions of the first four oecumenical councils, are to be regarded as the standards of orthodoxy; baptism is necessary for salvation--children dying in infancy "shall undoubtedly be saved thereby, and _else not_"; the sacrament of penance is retained with confession and absolution, which are declared to be expedient and necessary; the substantial, real, corporeal presence of christ's body and blood under the form of bread and wine in the eucharist is taught; faith as well as charity is necessary to salvation; images are to remain in the churches; the saints and the blessed virgin are to be reverenced as intercessors; the saints are to be invoked; certain rites and ceremonies, such as clerical vestments, sprinkling with holy water, carrying candles on candlemas day, and sprinkling ashes on ash-wednesday, are good and laudable; the doctrines of purgatory and of prayers for the dead were not denied, but people were warned about them. it should be noticed that while the three sacraments of baptism, the eucharist, and penance are retained, no mention is made of the other four, and that this is not unlike what luther taught in the _babylonian captivity of the church of christ_; that while the real presence is maintained, nothing is said about transubstantiation; that while images are retained in churches, all incensing, kneeling, or offering to images is forbidden; that while saints and the virgin may be invoked as intercessors, it is said that it is a vain superstition to believe that any saint can be more merciful than christ himself; and that the whole doctrine of attrition and indulgences is paralysed by the statement that amendment of life is a necessary part of penance. it is only when these articles are read along with the _injunctions_ issued in and that it can be fully seen how much they were meant to wean the people, if gradually, from the gross superstition which disgraced the popular mediæval religion. if this be done, they seem an attempt to fulfil the aspirations of christian humanists like dean colet and erasmus. after warning the clergy to observe all the laws made for the abolition of the papal supremacy, all those insisting on the supremacy of the king as the "supreme head of the church of england," and to preach against the pope's usurped power within the realm of england, the _injunctions_ proceed to say that the clergy are to expound the _ten articles_ to their people. in doing so they are to explain why superfluous holy days ought not to be observed; they are to exhort their people against such superstitions as images, relics, and priestly miracles. they are to tell them that it is best to keep god's commandments, to fulfil his works of charity, to provide for their families, and to bestow upon the poor the money they often lavish on pilgrimages, images, and relics. they are to see that parents and teachers instruct children from their earliest years in the lord's prayer, the creed, and the ten commandments. they are to be careful that the sacraments are duly and reverently administered within their parishes, are to set an example of moral living, and are to give themselves to the study of the scriptures. the second set of _injunctions_ ( ) goes further. the clergy are told to provide "one whole bible _of the largest volume_ in english," which is to be set somewhere in the church where the parishioners can most easily read it; and they are to beware of discouraging any man from perusing it, "for it is the lively word of god that every christian man is bound to embrace and follow." they are to preach a sermon at least every quarter, in which they are to declare the very gospel of christ, and to exhort the people to the works of charity, mercy, and faith especially prescribed in the scriptures. they are to warn them against trusting to fancies entirely outside of scripture, such as "wandering to pilgrimages, offering of money or candles to images or relics, kissing or licking the same, and saying over a number of beads or suchlike superstitions." they are not to permit candles, tapers, or images of wax to be placed before the images in the churches, in order to avoid "that most detestable offence of idolatry."[ ] the _ten articles_ thus authoritatively expounded are anything but "essentially romish with the pope left out in the cold." they are rather an attempt to construct a brief creed which a pliant lutheran and a pliant romanist might agree upon--a singularly successful attempt, and one which does great credit to the theological attainments of the english king. it was thought good to have a brief manual of religious instruction to place in the hands of the lower clergy and of the people, perhaps because the _ten articles_ were not always well received. a committee of divines, chiefly bishops,[ ] were appointed to "compile certain rudiments of christianity and a catechism."[ ] the result was a small book, divided into four parts--an exposition of the apostles' creed, of the _seven_ sacraments, of the ten commandments, of the lord's prayer, and the ave maria. two other parts were added from the _ten articles_--one on justification, for which faith is said to be necessary; and the other on purgatory, which is stoutly denied. great difficulties were experienced in the compilation, owing to the "great diversity of opinions"[ ] which prevailed among the compilers; and the book was a compromise between those who were stout for the old faith and those who were keen for the new; but in the end all seemed satisfied with their work. the chief difference between its teaching and that of the _ten articles_ is that the name sacrament is given to seven and not three of the chief ceremonies of the mediæval church; but, on the other hand, the doctrine of purgatory is denied. it was expected that the king would revise the book before its publication,[ ] but he "had no time convenient to overlook the great pains" bestowed upon it.[ ] drafts of an imprimatur by the king have been found among the state papers,[ ] but the book was finally issued in by the "archbishops and bishops of england," and was therefore popularly called the _bishops' book_. all the clergy were ordered "to read aloud from the pulpit every sunday a portion of this book" to their people.[ ] the catechism appears to have been published at the same time, and to have been in large request.[ ] henry viii. afterwards revised the _bishops' book_ according to his own ideas. the revision was published in , and was known as the _king's book_.[ ] perhaps the greatest boon bestowed on the people of england by the _ten articles_ and the _injunctions_ which enforced them was the permission to read and hear read a version of the bible in their own tongue. for the vernacular scriptures had been banned in england as they had not been on the continent, save perhaps during the albigensian persecution. the seventh of the _constitutions of thomas arundel_ ordains "that no one hereafter translates into the english tongue or into any other, on his own authority, the text of holy scripture either by way of book, or booklet, or tract." this constitution was directed against wiclif's translation, which had been severely proscribed. that version, like so many others during the middle ages, had been made from the vulgate. but luther's example had fired the heart of william tyndale to give his countrymen an english version translated directly from the hebrew and the greek originals. tyndale was a distinguished scholar, trained first at oxford and then at cambridge. when at the former university he had belonged to that circle of learned and pious men who had encouraged erasmus to complete his critical text of the new testament. he knew, as did more, that erasmus desired that the weakest woman should be able to read the gospels and the epistles of st. paul; that the husbandman should sing portions of them to himself as he followed the plough; that the weaver should hum them to the tune of his shuttle; and that the traveller should beguile the tedium of the road by repeating their stories; and he did not, like more, turn his back on the ennobling enthusiasms of his youth.[ ] tyndale found that he could not attempt his task in england. he went to germany and began work in cologne; but, betrayed to the magistrates of that centre of german romanism, he fled to worms. there he finished the translation of the new testament, and printed two editions, one in octavo and the other in quarto--the latter being enriched with copious marginal notes. the ecclesiastical authorities in england had early word of this translation, and by nov. rd, archbishop warham was exerting himself to buy and destroy as many copies as he could get hold of both in england and abroad; and, thanks to his exertions, tyndale was supplied with funds to revise his work and print a corrected edition. this version was welcomed in england, and passed secretly from hand to hand. it was severely censured by sir thomas more, not because the work was badly done, but really because it was so scholarly. the faithful translation of certain words and sentences was to the reactionary more "a mischievous perversion of those writings intended to advance heretical opinion";[ ] and, strange to say, dr. james gairdner seems to agree with him.[ ] tyndale's version had been publicly condemned in england at the council called by the king in (may), and copies of his book had been publicly burnt in st. paul's churchyard, while he himself had been tracked like a wild beast by emissaries of the english government in the netherlands. cranmer induced convocation in to petition for an english version of the bible, and next year cromwell persuaded miles coverdale to undertake his translation in . it was made from the vulgate with some assistance from luther's version, and was much inferior to the proscribed version of tyndale; but it had a large private sale in england, and the king was induced to license it to enable the clergy to obey the _injunctions_ of , which had ordered a copy of the english bible to be placed in all the churches before august .[ ] the archbishop, however, had another version in view, which he sent to cromwell (aug. ), saying that he liked it better than any other translation, and hoped it would be licensed to be read freely until the bishops could set forth a better, which he believes will not be until after doomsday. this version was practically tyndale's. tyndale had entrusted one of his friends, rogers, with his translation of the old testament, finished as far as the book of jonah, and with his complete version of the new testament. rogers had taken tyndale's new testament, his old testament as far as the book of chronicles, borrowed the remaining portion of the old testament from coverdale's version, and printed them with a dedication to the king, signed thomas matthew.[ ] this was the edition recommended by cranmer to cromwell, which was licensed. the result was that tyndale's new testament (the same version which had been denounced as pernicious, and which had been publicly burnt only a few years before) and a large part of his old testament were publicly introduced into the parish churches of england, and became the foundation of all succeeding translations of the bible into the english language.[ ] on reconsideration, the translation was found to be rather too accurate for the government, and some changes (certainly not corrections) were made in -- . thus altered, the translation was known as the _great bible_, and, because cranmer wrote the preface, as cranmer's bible.[ ] this was the version, the bible "of the largest volume," which was ordered to be placed in the churches for the people to read, and portions of which were to be read from the pulpit every sunday, according to the _injunctions_ of . from on to the middle of , there was a distinct if slow advance in england towards a real reformation; then the progress was arrested, if the movement did not become decidedly retrograde. it seems more than probable that if henry had lived a few years longer, there would have been another attempt at an advance. part of the advance had been a projected political and religious treaty with the german protestants. neither henry viii. nor john frederick of saxony appears to have been much in earnest about an alliance, and from the english king's instructions to his envoys it would appear that his chief desire was to commit the german divines to an approval of the divorce.[ ] luther was somewhat scornful, and seems to have penetrated henry's design.[ ] the german theologians had no doubt but that the marriage of henry with catharine was one which should never have taken place; but they all held that, once made, it ought not to be broken.[ ] determined efforts were made to capture the sympathies of melanchthon. bishop foxe, selected as the theological ambassador, was instructed to take him presents to the value of £ .[ ] his books were placed on the course of study for cambridge at cromwell's order.[ ] henry exchanged complimentary letters, and graciously accepted the dedication of melanchthon's _de locis communibus_.[ ] an embassy was despatched, consisting of foxe, bishop elect of hereford; heath, archdeacon of canterbury; and dr. barnes, an english divine, who was a pronounced lutheran. they met the protestant princes at schmalkald and had long discussions. the confederated princes and henry found themselves in agreement on many points: they would stoutly disown the primacy of the pope; they would declare that they would not be bound by the decrees of any council which the pope and the emperor might assemble; and they would pledge each other to get their bishops and preachers to declare them null and void. the german princes were quite willing to give henry the title of "defender of the schmalkald league." but they insisted as the first articles of any alliance that the english church and king must accept the theology of the augsburg confession and adopt the ceremonies of the lutheran church; and on these rocks of doctrine and ritual the proposed alliance was shattered.[ ] the germans had their own private view of the english reformation under henry viii., which was neither very flattering nor quite accurate. "so far the king has become lutheran, that, because the pope has refused to sanction his divorce, he has ordered, on penalty of death, that every one shall believe and preach that not the pope but himself is the head of the universal church. all other papistry, monasteries, mass, indulgences, and intercessions for the dead, are pertinaciously adhered to."[ ] the english embassy went from schmalkald to wittenberg, where they met a number of divines, including luther and melanchthon, and proceeded to discuss the question of doctrinal agreement. melanchthon had gone over the augsburg confession, and produced a series of articles which presented all that the wittenberg theologians could concede, and luther had revised the draft.[ ] both the germans were charmed with the learning and courtesy of archdeacon heath. bishop foxe "had the manner of prelates," says melanchthon, and his learning did not impress the germans.[ ] the conference came to nothing. henry did not care to accept a creed ready made for him, and thought that ecclesiastical ceremonies might differ in different countries. he was a king "reckoned somewhat learned, though unworthy," he said, "and having so many learned men in his realm, he could not accept at any creature's hand the observing of his and the realm's faith; but he was willing to confer with learned men sent from them."[ ] before the conference at wittenberg had come to an end, henry believed that he had no need for a german alliance. the ill-used queen catharine, who, alone of all persons concerned in the divorce proceedings, comes out unstained, died on jan. th, . her will contained the touching bequest: "to my daughter, the collar of gold which i brought out of spain"[ ]--out of spain, when she came a fair young bride to marry prince arthur of england thirty-five years before. there is no need to believe that henry exhibited the unseemly manifestations of joy which his enemies credit him with when the news of catharine's death was brought to him, but it did free him from a great dread. he read men and circumstances shrewdly, and he knew enough of charles v. to believe that the emperor, after his aunt's death, and when he had no flagrant attack on the family honour of his house to protest against, would not make himself the pope's instrument against england. henry had always maintained himself and england by balancing france against the empire, and could in addition weaken the empire by strengthening the german protestants. but in , france and the emperor had become allies, and henry was feeling himself very insecure. it is probable that the negotiations which led to henry's marriage with anne of cleves were due to this new danger. on the other hand, there had been discontent in england at many of the actions which were supposed to come from the advance towards reformation. henry viii. had always spent money lavishly. his father's immense hoards had disappeared, while england, under wolsey, was the paymaster of europe, and the king was in great need of funds. in england as elsewhere the wealth of the monasteries seemed to have been collected for the purpose of supplying an empty royal exchequer. a visitation of monasteries was ordered, under the superintendence of thomas cromwell; and, in order to give him a perfectly free hand, all episcopal functions were for the time being suspended. the visitation disclosed many scandalous things. it was followed by the act of parliament ( ) for _the dissolution of the lesser monasteries_.[ ] the lands of all monasteries whose annual rental was less than £ a year were given to the king, as well as all the ornaments, jewels, and other goods belonging to them. the dislodged monks and nuns were either to be taken into the larger houses or to receive some measure of support, and the heads were to get pensions sufficient to sustain them. the lands thus acquired might have been formed into a great crown estate yielding revenues large enough to permit taxation to be dispensed with; but the king was in need of ready money, and he had courtiers to gratify. the convent lands were for the most part sold cheaply to courtiers, and the numbers and power of the county families were largely increased. a new visitation of the remaining monasteries was begun in , this time accompanied with an inquiry into superstitious practices indulged in in various parts of the country, and notorious relics were removed. they were of all sorts--part of st. peter's hair and beard; stones with which st. stephen was stoned; the hair shirt and bones of st. thomas the martyr; a crystal containing a little quantity of our lady's milk, "with two other bones"; the "principal relic in england, an angel with one wing that brought to caversham (near reading) the spear's head that pierced the side of our saviour on the cross"; the ear of malchus, which st. peter cut off; a foot of st. philip at winchester "covered with gold plate and (precious) stones"; and so forth.[ ] miraculous images were brought up to london and their mechanism exposed to the crowd, while an eloquent preacher thundered against the superstition: "the bearded crucifix called the 'rood of grace' (was brought from maidstone, and) while the bishop of rochester preached it turned its head, rolled its eyes, foamed at the mouth, and shed tears,--in the presence, too, of many other famous saints of wood and stone ... the satellite saints of the kentish image acted in the same way. it is expected that the virgin of walsingham, st. thomas of canterbury, and other images will soon perform miracles also in the same place; for the trickery was so thoroughly exposed that every one was indignant at the monks and impostors."[ ] a second act of parliament followed, which vested all monastic property in the king; and this gave the king possession not only of huge estates, but also of an immense quantity of jewels and precious metals.[ ] the shrine of st. thomas at canterbury, when "disgarnished," yielded, it is said, no fewer than twenty-six cartloads of gold and silver.[ ] this wholesale confiscation of monastic property, plundering of shrines, and above all the report that henry had ordered the bones of st. thomas of canterbury to be burned and the ashes scattered to the winds, determined pope paul iii. to renew (dec. th, ) the execution of his bull of excommunication (aug. th, ), which had been hitherto suspended. it was declared that the bull might be published in st. andrews or "in oppido calistrensi" in scotland, at dieppe or boulogne in france, or at tuam in ireland.[ ] the pope knew that he could not get it published in england itself. the violent destruction of shrines and pilgrimage places, which had been holiday resorts as well as places of devotion, could not fail to create some popular uneasiness, and there were other and probably deeper roots of discontent. england, like other nations, had been suffering from the economic changes which were a feature of the times. one form peculiar to england was that wool-growing had become more profitable than keeping stock or raising grain, and landed proprietors were enclosing commons for pasture land and letting much of their arable land lie fallow. the poor men could no longer graze their beasts on the commons, and the substitution of pasture for arable land threw great numbers out of employment. they had to sell the animals they could no longer feed, and did not see how a living could be earned; nor had they the compensation given to the disbanded monks. the pressure of taxation increased the prevailing distress. risings took place in yorkshire, lancashire, and lincolnshire, and the insurgents marched singing: "christ crucified, for thy woundes wide, us commons guyde, which pilgrims be, through godes grace, for to purchache, old wealth and peax of the spiritualitie."[ ] in their demands they denounced equally the contempt shown for holy mother church, the dissolution of the monasteries, the spoliation of shrines, the contempt shown to "our ladye and all the saints," new taxes, the enclosure of commons, the doing away with use and wont in tenant rights, the branding of the lady mary as illegitimate, king's counsellors of "low birth and small estimation," and the five reforming bishops--cranmer and latimer being considered as specially objectionable.[ ] the yorkshire rising was called the pilgrimage of grace. the insurgents or "pilgrims" were not more consistent than other people, for they plundered priests to support their "army";[ ] and while they insisted on the primacy of the bishop of rome, they had no wish to see his authority re-established in england. they asked the king to admit the pope to be head of spiritual things, giving spiritual authority to the archbishops of canterbury and york, "so that the said bishop of rome have no further meddling."[ ] the insurrections were put down, and henry did not cease his spoliation of shrines and monasteries in consequence of their protests; but the feelings of the people made known by their proclamations, at the conferences held between their leaders and the representatives of authority, and by the examination of prisoners and suspected persons, must have suggested to his shrewd mind whether the reformation was not being pressed onward too hastily for the great majority of the english laity. england did not produce in the sixteenth century a great spiritual leader inspired by a prophetic conviction that he was speaking the truth of god, and able to create a like conviction in the hearts of his neighbours, while he was never so far before them that they could not easily follow him step by step. the king cried halt; and when cromwell insisted on his plan of alliance with the protestants of the continent of europe, he went the way of all the counsellors of henry who withstood their imperious master (july th, ). but this is to anticipate. negotiations were still in progress with the lords of the schmalkald league in the spring of ,[ ] and the king was thinking of cementing his connection with the german lutherans by marrying anne of cleves,[ ] the sister-in-law of john frederick of saxony. the parliament of (april th to june th) saw the beginnings of the change. six questions were introduced for discussion: "whether there be in the sacrament of the altar transubstantiation of the substance of bread and wine into the substance of flesh and blood or not? whether priests may marry by the law of god or not? whether the vow of chastity of men and women bindeth by the law of god or not? whether auricular confession be necessary by the law of god or not? whether private masses may stand with the word of god or not? whether it be necessary by the word of god that the sacrament of the altar should be administered under both kinds or not?"[ ] the opinions of the bishops were divided; but the lay members of the house of lords evidently did not wish any change from the mediæval doctrines, and believed that no one could be such a wise theologian as their king when he confounded the bishop with his stores of learning. "we of the temporalitie," wrote one who was present, "have been all of one opinion ... all england have cause to thank god and most heartily to rejoice of the king's most godly proceedings."[ ] so parliament enacted the _six articles act_,[ ] a ferocious statute commonly called "the bloody whip with six strings." to deny transubstantiation or to deprave the sacraments was to be reckoned heresy, and to be punished with burning and confiscation of goods. it was made a felony, and punishable with death, to teach that it was necessary to communicate in both kinds in the holy supper; or that priests, monks, or nuns vowed to celibacy might marry. all clerical marriages which had been contracted were to be dissolved, and clerical incontinence was punishable by loss of property and benefice. special commissions were issued to hold quarterly sessions in every county for the enforcement of the statute. the official title of the act was _an act abolishing diversity of opinion_. the first commission issued was for the county of london, and at the first session five hundred persons were indicted within a fortnight. the law was, however, much more severe than its enforcement. the five hundred made their submission and received the king's pardon. it was under this barbarous statute that so-called heretics were tried and condemned during the last years of the reign of henry viii. the revival of mediæval doctrine did not mean any difference in the strong anti-papal policy of the english king. it rather became more emphatic, and henry spoke of the pope in terms of the greatest disrespect. "that most persistent idol, enemy of all truth, and usurpator of princes, the bishop of rome," "that cankered and venomous serpent, paul, bishop of rome," are two of his phrases.[ ] _the act of the six statutes_ made lutherans, as previous acts had made papists, liable to capital punishment; but while cromwell remained in power he evidently was able to hinder its practical execution. cromwell, however, was soon to fall. he seemed to be higher in favour than ever. he had almost forced his policy on his master, and the marriage of henry with anne of cleves (jan. th, ) seemed to be his triumph. then henry struck suddenly and remorselessly as usual. the minister was impeached, and condemned without trial. he was executed (july th); and anne of cleves was got rid of on the plea of pre-contract to the son of the duke of lorraine (july th). it was not the fault of gardiner, the sleuth-hound of the reaction, that cranmer did not share the fate of the minister. immediately after the execution of cromwell (july th), the king gave a brutal exhibition of his position. three clergymen of lutheran views, barnes, garret, and jerome, were burnt at smithfield; and three romanists were beheaded and tortured for denying the king's spiritual supremacy. henry had kept himself ostentatiously free from responsibility for the manual of doctrine entitled _institution of a christian man_. perhaps he believed it too advanced for his people; it was at all events too advanced for the theology of the _six articles_; another manual was needed, and was published in (may th). it was entitled _a necessary doctrine and erudition for any christian man; set forth by the king's majesty of england_. it was essentially a revision of the former manual, and may have been of composite authorship. cranmer was believed to have written the chapter on faith, and it was revised by convocation. the king, who issued it himself with a preface commending it, declared it to be "a true and perfect doctrine for all people." it contains an exposition of the creed, the ten commandments, the lord's prayer, and of some selected passages of scripture. its chief difference from the former manual is that it teaches unmistakably the doctrines of _transubstantiation_, the _invocation of saints_, and the _celibacy of the clergy_. it may be said that it very accurately represented the theology of the majority of englishmen in the year . for king and people were not very far apart. they both clung to mediæval theology; and they both detested the papacy, and wished the clergy to be kept in due subordination. there was a widespread and silent movement towards an evangelical reformation always making itself apparent when least expected; but probably three-fourths of the people had not felt it during the reign of henry. it needed mary's burnings in smithfield and the fears of a spanish overlord, before the leaven could leaven the whole lump. chapter ii. the reformation under edward vi.[ ] when henry viii. died, in (jan. th), the situation in england was difficult for those who came after him. a religious revolution had been half accomplished; a social revolution was in progress, creating popular ferment; evicted tenants and uncloistered monks formed raw material for revolt; the treasury was empty, the kingdom in debt, and the coinage debased. the kingly authority had undermined every other, and the king was a child. the new nobility, enriched by the spoils of the church, did not command hereditary respect; and the council which gathered round the king was torn by rival factions.[ ] henry viii. had died on a friday, but his death was kept concealed till the monday (jan. st), when edward vi. was brought by his uncle, the earl of hertford, and presented to the council. there a will of the late king was produced, the terms of which make it almost impossible to believe that henry did not contemplate a further advance towards a reformation. it appointed a council of regency, consisting of sixteen persons who were named. eleven belonged to the old council, and among them were five who were well known to desire an advance, while the two most determined reactionaries were omitted--bishop gardiner and thirlby. the will also mentioned by name twelve men who might be added to the council if their services were thought to be necessary. these were added. then the earl of hertford was chosen to be lord protector of the realm, and was promoted to be duke of somerset. the coronation followed (feb. th), and all the bishops were required to take out new commissions in the name of the young king--the king's ecclesiastical supremacy being thus rigidly enforced. wriothesley, henry's lord chancellor, who had been created the earl of southampton, was compelled to resign the great seal, and with his retirement the government was entirely in the hands of men who wished the nation to go forward in the path of reformation. signs of their intention were not lacking, nor evidence that such an advance would be welcomed by the population of the capital at least. on feb. th a clergyman and churchwardens had removed the images from the walls of their church, and painted instead texts of scripture; an eloquent preacher, dr. barlow, denounced the presence of images in churches; images were pulled down from the churches in portsmouth; and so on. in may it was announced that a royal visitation of the country would be made, and bishops were inhibited from making their ordinary visitations. in july ( st) the council began the changes. they issued a series of _injunctions_[ ] to the clergy, in which they were commanded to preach against "the bishop of rome's usurped power and jurisdiction"; to see that all images which had been "abused" as objects of pilgrimages should be destroyed; to read the gospels and epistles in english during the service; and to see that the litany was no longer recited or sung in processions, but said devoutly kneeling. they next issued _twelve homilies_, meant to guard the people against "rash preaching." such a series had been suggested as early as , and a proposed draft had been presented to convocation by cranmer in that year, but had not been authorised. they were now issued on the authority of the council. three of them were composed by cranmer. these sermons contain little that is doctrinal, and confine themselves to inciting to godly living.[ ] along with the _homilies_, the council authorised the issue of udall's translation of the _paraphrases_ of erasmus, which they meant to be read in the churches. the royal visitation seems to have extended over a series of years, beginning in . dr. james gairdner discovered, and has printed with comments, an account or report of a visitation held by bishop hooper in the diocese of gloucester in . one of the intentions of the visitation was to discover how far it was possible to expect preaching from the english clergy. dr. gairdner sums up the illiteracy exhibited in the report as follows:--three hundred and eleven clergymen were examined, and of these one hundred and seventy-one were unable to repeat the _ten commandments_, though, strangely enough, all but thirty-four could tell the chapter (ex. xx.) in which they were to be found; ten were unable to repeat the lord's prayer; twenty-seven could not tell who was its author: and thirty could not tell where it was to be found. the report deserves study as a description of the condition of the clergy of the church of england before the reformation. these clergymen of the diocese of gloucester were asked nine questions--three under three separate heads: ( ) how many commandments are there? where are they to be found? repeat them. ( ) what are the articles of the christian faith (the apostles' creed)? repeat them.--prove them from scripture. ( ) repeat the lord's prayer. how do you know that it is the lord's? where is it to be found? only fifty out of the three hundred and eleven answered all these simple questions, and of the fifty, nineteen are noted as having answered _mediocriter_. eight clergymen could not answer any single one of the questions; and while one knew that the number of the commandments was ten, he knew nothing else. two clergymen, when asked why the lord's prayer was so called, answered that it was because christ had given it to his disciples when he told them to watch and pray; another said that he did not know why it was called the lord's prayer, but that he was quite willing to believe that it was the lord's because the king had said so; and another answered that all he knew about it was that such was the common report. two clergymen said that while they could not prove the articles of the creed from scripture, they accepted them on the authority of the king; and one said that he could not tell what was the scripture authority for the creed, unless it was the first chapter of genesis, but that it did not matter, since the king had guaranteed it to be correct.[ ] there is no reason to believe that the clergy of this diocese were worse than those in other parts of england. if this report be compared with the accounts of the unreformed clergy of central germany given in the reports of the visitations held there between and , the condition of things there which filled luther with such despair, and induced him to write his small cathechism, was very much better than that of the clergy of england. not more than three or perhaps four out of the three hundred and eleven had ever preached or could preach. these facts, extracted from the formal report of an authoritative visitation made by a bishop, explain the constant cry of the puritans under elizabeth for a preaching ministry. the council were evidently anxious that the whole service should be conducted in the english language, and that a sermon should always be part of the public worship. the reports of the visitation showed that it was useless to make any general order, but an example was given in the services conducted in the royal chapel. meanwhile ( ) thomas hopkins was engaged in making a version of the psalms in metre, to be sung both in private and in the churches, and these soon became highly popular. like corresponding versions in france and in germany, it served to spread the reformation among the people; and, as might have been expected, archbishop laud did his best to stop the singing of these psalms in later days. the first parliament of edward vi. (nov. th to dec. th, ) made large changes in the laws of england affecting treason, which had the effect of sweeping away the edifice of absolute government which had been so carefully erected by henry viii. and his minister thomas cromwell. the kingly supremacy in matters of religion was maintained; but the _act of the six articles_ was erased from the statute book, and with it all heresy acts which had been enacted since the days of richard ii., and treason was defined as it had been in the days of edward iii. this legislation gave an unwonted amount of freedom to the english people. convocation had met in november and december ( ), and, among other things, had agreed unanimously that in the holy supper the partakers should communicate in both _kinds_, and had passed a resolution by fifty-three votes to twelve that all canons against the marriage of the clergy should be declared void. these two resolutions were communicated to parliament, with the result that an act was passed ordaining that "the most blessed sacrament be hereafter commonly administered unto the people within the church of england and ireland, and other the king's dominions, under both the kinds, that is to say, of bread and wine, except necessity otherwise require."[ ] an act was also framed permitting the marriage of the clergy, which passed the commons, but did not reach the house of lords in time to be voted upon, and did not become law until the following year. other two acts bearing on the condition of the church of england were issued by this parliament. according to the one, bishops were henceforth to be appointed directly by the king, and their courts were to meet in the king's name. according to the other, the property of all colleges, chantries, guilds, etc., with certain specified exceptions, was declared to be vested in the crown.[ ] communion in both kinds made necessary a new communion service, and as a tentative measure a new form for the celebration was issued by the council, which is called by strype the _book of communion_.[ ] it enjoined that the essential words of the mass should still be said in latin, but inserted seven prayers in english in the ceremony. the council also proceeded in their war against superstitions. they forbade the creeping to the cross on good friday, the use of ashes on ash-wednesday, of palms on palm sunday, and of candles on candlemas; and they ordered the removal of _all_ images from the churches. cranmer asserted that all these measures had been intended by henry viii. the next important addition to the progress of the reformation was the preparation and introduction of a service book[ ]--_the boke of the common praier and administration of the sacramentes and other rites and ceremonies after the use of the churche of england_ ( ), commonly called _the first prayer-book of king edward vi._ it was introduced by an _act of uniformity_,[ ] which, after relating how there had been for long time in england "divers forms of common prayer ... the use of sarum, york, bangor, and of lincoln," and that diversity of use caused many inconveniences, ordains the universal use of this one form, and enacts penalties on those who make use of any other. the origin of the book is somewhat obscure. there is no trace of any commission appointed to frame it, nor of any formally selected body of revisers. cranmer had the chief charge of it, and was assisted by a number of divines--though where they met is uncertain, whether at windsor as the king records in his diary, or at chertsey abbey, as is said in the grey friars chronicle. about the end of october the bishops were asked to subscribe it, and it was subjected to some revision. it was then brought before the house of lords and discussed there. it was in this debate that cranmer disclosed that he had definitely abandoned the theory of transubstantiation. the prayer-book, however, was eminently conservative, and could be subscribed to by a believer in the old theory. the giving and receiving of the _bread_ is called the _communion of the body of christ_, of the _wine_, the _communion of the blood of christ_; and the practice of making the sign of the cross is adhered to at stated points in the ceremony. an examination of its structure and contents reveals that it was borrowed largely from the old english use of sarum, and from a new service book drafted by the cardinal quignon and dedicated to pope paul iii. the feeling that a new service book was needed was not confined to the reformers, but was affecting all european christians. the great innovation in this liturgy was that all its parts were in the english language, and that every portion of the service could be followed and understood by all the worshippers. with the publication of this _first prayer-book of king edward vi._ the first stage of the reformation during his reign comes to an end. the changes made had all been contemplated by henry viii. himself, if we are to believe what cranmer affirmed. they did not content the more advanced reformers, and they were not deemed sufficient by cranmer himself. the changes made in the laws of england--the repeal of the "bloody" _statue of the six articles_ and of the treason laws--had induced many of the english refugees who had gone to germany and to switzerland to return to their native land. the emperor charles v. had defeated the german protestants in the battle of mühlberg in (april), and england for a few years became a place of refuge for continental protestants fleeing from the requirements and penalties of the _interim_. all this gave a strong impetus to the reformation movement in england. martin bucer, compelled to leave strassburg, found refuge and taught in cambridge, where he was for a time the regius professor of divinity. paul büchlein (usually known by his latinised name of fagius), a compatriot of bucer and a well-known hebrew scholar, was also settled at cambridge, where he died (nov. ). peter martyr vermigli and bernardino ochino, two illustrious italian protestants, came to england at the invitation of cranmer himself, and long afterwards queen elizabeth confessed that she had been drawn towards their theology. peter alexander of arles and john à lasco, the pole, also received the protection and hospitality of england.[ ] the reception of these foreign divines, and their appointment as teachers in the english universities, did not escape protest from the local teachers of theology, who were overruled by the government. between the first and the second stage of the reformation of the church of england in this reign, a political change occurred which must be mentioned but need not be dwelt upon. the duke of somerset incurred the wrath of his colleagues, and of the new nobility who had profited by the sale of church lands, by his active sympathy with the landless peasantry, and by his proposals to benefit them. he was driven from power, and his place was taken by the unscrupulous earl of warwick, who became lord protector, and received the dukedom of northumberland. the new governor of england has been almost universally praised by the advanced reformers because of the way in which he pushed forward the reformation. it is well to remember in these days, when the noble character of the duke of somerset has received a tardy recognition,[ ] that john knox, no mean judge of men, never joined in the praise of northumberland, and greatly preferred his predecessor, although his advance in the path of reformation had been slower and much more cautious. there was much in the times to encourage northumberland and his council to think that they might hurry on the reformation movement. the new learning had made great strides in england, and was leavening all the more cultured classes, and it naturally led to the discredit of the old theology. the english advanced reformers who had taken refuge abroad, and who now returned,--men like ridley and hooper,--could not fail to have had some influence on their countrymen; they had almost all become imbued with the zwinglian type of theology, and bullinger was their trusted adviser. it seemed as if the feelings of the populace were changing, for the mobs, instead of resenting the destruction of images, were rather inspired by too much iconoclastic zeal, and tried to destroy stained-glass windows and to harry priests. cranmer's influence, always on the side of reform, had much more weight with the council than was the case under henry viii. he had abandoned long ago his belief in transubstantiation, he had given up the lutheran doctrine of consubstantiation, if he ever held it, and had now accepted a theory of a real but spiritual presence in the communion elements which did not greatly differ from the more moderate zwinglian view. the clergy, many of them, were making changes which went far beyond the act of uniformity. the removal of restrictions on printing the bible had resulted in the publication of more than twenty editions, most of them with annotations which explained and enforced the new theology on the authority of scripture. in these circumstances the council enforced the act of uniformity in a one-sided way--against the romanist sympathisers. many romanist bishops were deprived of their sees, and their places were filled by such men as coverdale, ridley, ponet, and scovey--all advanced reformers. john knox himself, freed from his slavery in the french galleys by the intervention of the english government and made one of the king's preachers, was offered the bishopric of rochester, which he declined. it must be remembered, however, that the lord protector and his _entourage_ seem to have been quite as much animated by a desire to fill their own pockets as by zeal to promote the cause of the reformation. indeed, there came to be in england at this time something like the _tulchan_ bishops of a later period in scotland; great nobles got possession of the episcopal revenues and allowed the new bishops a stipend out of them.[ ] then came a second revision of the prayer-book--_the boke of common prayer and administration of the sacramentes and other rites and ceremonies in the churche of england_ ( ). it is commonly called the _second prayer-book of king edward the sixth_.[ ] cranmer had conferences with some of the bishops as early as jan. on the subject, and also with some of the foreign divines then resident in england; and it is more than probable that his intention was to frame such a liturgy as would bring the worship of the church of england into harmony with that of the continental reformers. there is no proof that the book was ever presented to convocation for revision, or that it was subject to a debate in parliament, as was its predecessor. the authoritative proclamation says: "the king's most excellent majesty, with the assent of the lords and commons in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, has caused the aforesaid order of common service, entitled the book of common prayer, to be faithfully and godly perused, explained, and made fully perfect, and by the aforesaid authority has annexed and joined it, so explained and perfected, to this present statute."[ ] this _book of common prayer_ deserves special notice, because, although some important changes were made, it is largely reproduced in the book of common prayer which is at present used in the church of england. the main differences between it and the _first prayer-book of king edward_ appear for the most part in the communion service, and were evidently introduced to do away with all thought of a propitiatory mass. the word _altar_ is expunged, and _table_ is used instead: _minister_ and _priest_ are used indifferently as equivalent terms. "the minister at the time of the communion, and at all other times in his ministration, shall use neither alb, vestment, nor cope; but being an archbishop or bishop, he shall have or wear a rochet: and being a priest or deacon, he shall have and wear a surplice only." instead of "standing humbly afore the midst of the altar," he was to stand "at the north side of the table"; and the communion table was ordered to be removed from the east end of the church and to be placed in the chancel. ordinary instead of unleavened bread was ordered to be used. in the older book the prayer, _have mercy on us, o lord_, had been used as an invocation of god present in the sacramental elements; in the new it became an ordinary prayer to keep the commandments. the _ten commandments_ were introduced for the first time. some rubrics--that enjoining the minister to add a little water to the wine--were omitted. similar changes were made in the services for baptism and confirmation, and in the directions for ordination. one rubric was retained which the more advanced reformers wished done away with. communicants were required to receive the elements kneeling. but the difficulties were removed by a later rubric: "yet lest the same kneeling might be thought or taken otherwise, we do declare that it is not meant thereby, that any adoration is done, or ought to be done, either unto the sacramental bread or wine there bodily received, or to any real or essential presence there being of christ's natural flesh and blood." this addition is said, on somewhat uncertain evidence, to have been suggested by john knox. the most important change, however, was that made in the words to be addressed to the communicant in the act of partaking. in the _first prayer-book_ the words were: "when the priest delivereth the sacrament of the body of christ, he shall say to every one these words: _'the body of our lord jesus christ, which was given, for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.'_ and the minister delivering the sacrament of the blood, and giving every one once to drink and no more, shall say: _'the blood of our lord jesus christ, which was shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.'_"[ ] in the _second prayer-book_ the rubric was altered to: "then the minister, when he delivereth the bread, shall say: _'take and eat this in remembrance that christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith and with thanksgiving.'_ and the minister that delivereth the cup shall say: _'drink this in remembrance that christ's blood was shed for thee, and be thankful.'_"[ ] the difference represented by the change in these words is between what _might_ be the doctrine of transubstantiation and a sacramental theory distinctly lower than that of luther or calvin, and which _might_ be pure zwinglianism. this _second prayer-book of king edward_ was enforced by a second _act of uniformity_, which for the first time contained penalties against laymen as well as clergymen--against "a great number of people in divers parts of the realm, who did wilfully refuse to come to their parish churches." the penalties themselves show that many of the population refused to be dragged along the path of reformation as fast as the council wished them to go.[ ] soon after there followed a new creed or statement of the fundamental doctrines received by the church of england. this was the _forty-two articles_, interesting because they formed the basis of the later elizabethan _thirty-nine articles_. they were thrust on the church of england in a rather disreputable way. it was expressly slated on the title-page that they had been agreed upon by the bishops and godly divines at the last convocation in london--a statement which is not correct. they were never presented to convocation, and were issued on the authority of the king alone, and received his signature on june th ( ), scarcely a month before he died. one other document belonging to the reign of edward vi. must be mentioned--the _reformatio legum ecclesiasticarum_, drafted by cranmer. the archbishop had begun in to collect passages from the old canon law which he thought might serve to regulate the government and discipline of the church of england. a commission of thirty-two was appointed to assist him, and from these a committee of eight were selected to "rough hew the canon law." when the selection was made, a bill to legalise it was introduced into parliament, but it failed to pass; and the _reformatio legum_ never became authoritative in england. it was as well, for the book enacted death penalties for various heresies, which would have made it a cruel weapon in the hands of a persecuting government. during the reign of edward vi. the beginnings of that puritanism which was so prominent in the time of elizabeth first manifested themselves. its two principal spokesmen were the bishops hooper and ridley. hooper was an ardent follower of zwingli, and was esteemed to be the leader of the party; and ridley's sentiments were not greatly different. hooper came into contact with the government when he was appointed to the see of gloucester. he then objected to the oath required from bishops at their consecration, and to the episcopal robes, which he called "aaronic" vestments. the details of the contest are described by a zwinglian sympathiser, macronius, in a letter to bullinger at zurich[ ] (aug. th, ): "the king, as you know, has appointed him (hooper) to the bishopric of gloucester, which, however, he refused to accept unless he cd. be altogether relieved from all appearance of popish superstition. here then a question immediately arises as to the form of oath which the bishops have ordered to be taken in the name of god, the saints, and the gospels; which impious oath hooper positively refused to take. so, when he appeared before the king in the presence of the council, hooper convinced the king by many arguments that the oath should be taken in the name of god alone, who knoweth the heart. this took place on the th of july. it was so agreeable to the godly king, that with his own pen he erased the clause of the oath which sanctioned swearing by any creatures. nothing could be more godly than this act, or more worthy of a christian king. when this was done there remained the form of episcopal consecration, wh., as lately prescribed by the bishops in parliament, differs but little from the popish one. hooper therefore obtained a letter from the king to the archbishop of canterbury (cranmer), that he might be consecrated without superstition. but he gained nothing by this, as he was referred from the archbishop of canterbury to the bishop of london (ridley), who refused to use any other form of consecration than that which had been subscribed by parliament. thus the bishops mutually endeavour that none of their glory shall depart. a few days after, on the th of july, hooper obtained leave from the king and the council to be consecrated by the bishop of london without any superstition. he replied that he would shortly send an answer either to the council or to hooper. while, therefore, hooper was expecting the bishop's answer, the latter went to court and alienated the minds of the council from hooper, making light of the use of the vestments and the like in the church, and calling them mere matters of indifference. many were so convinced by him that they would hardly listen to hooper's defence when he came into court shortly afterwards. he therefore requested them, that if they would not hear him speak, they would at least think it proper to hear and read his written apology. his request was granted: wherefore he delivered to the king's councillors, in writing, his opinion respecting the discontinuance of the use of vestments and the like puerilities. and if the bishop cannot satisfy the king with other reasons, hooper will gain the victory. we are daily expecting the termination of this controversy, which is only conducted between individuals, either by conference or by letter, for fear of any tumult being excited among the ignorant. you see in what a state of affairs the church would be if they were left to the bishops, even to the best of them." in the end, hooper allowed himself to be persuaded, and was consecrated in the usual way. the advanced reformers in england were probably incited to demand more freedom than the law permitted by the sight of the liberty enjoyed by men who were not englishmen. french and german protestants had come to england for refuge, and had been welcomed. the king had permitted them to use the augustines' church in london, that they might "have the pure ministry of the word and sacraments according to the apostolic form," and they enjoyed their privileges. "we are altogether exempted by letters patent from the king and council from the jurisdiction of the bishops. to each church (i mean the german and the french) are assigned two ministers of the word (among whom is my unworthy self), over whom has been appointed superintendent the most illustrious john à lasco; by whose aid alone, under god, we foreigners have arrived at our present state of pure religion. some of the bishops, and especially the bishop of london, with certain others, are opposed to our design; but i hope their opposition will be ineffectual. the archbishop of canterbury, the special patron of foreigners, has been the chief support and promoter of our church, to the great astonishment of some."[ ] these foreigners, outside episcopal control and not subject to the _acts of uniformity_, enjoyed liberties of worship which were not granted to englishmen. they were driven out of the country when mary succeeded; but under elizabeth and james they had the same privileges and were naturally envied by the english puritans, coerced by bishops and harried by acts of uniformity. while the reformation was being pushed forward in england at a speed too great for the majority of the people, the king was showing the feebleness of his constitution. he died on the th of july , and the collapse of the reformation after his death showed the uncertainty of the foundation on which it had been built. chapter iii. the reaction under mary.[ ] one of the last acts of the dying king had been to make a will regulating the succession. it was doubtless suggested to him by the duke of northumberland, but, once adopted, the lad clung to it with tudor tenacity. it set aside as illegitimate both his sisters. it also set aside the young queen of scotland, who, failing mary and elizabeth, was the legitimate heir, being the granddaughter of margaret, the eldest sister of henry viii., and selected the lady jane grey, the representative (eldest child of eldest child) of mary, the younger sister of henry viii. both the king and his council seem to have thought that the nation would not submit to a roman catholic on the throne; and charles v. appears to have agreed with them. he considered the chances of mary's succession small. the people of england, however, rallied to mary, as the nearest in blood to their old monarch, who, notwithstanding his autocratic rule, had never lost touch with his people. the new queen naturally turned to her cousin charles v. for guidance. he had upheld her mother's cause and her own; and in the dark days which were past, his ambassador chapuys had been her indefatigable friend. it was mary's consuming desire to bring back the english church and nation to obedience to rome--to undo the work of her father, and especially of her brother. the emperor recommended caution; he advised the queen to be patient; to watch and accommodate her policy to the manifestations of the feelings of her people; to punish the leaders who had striven to keep her from the throne, but to treat all their followers with clemency. above all, she was to mark carefully the attitude of her sister elizabeth, and to reorganise the finances of the country. mary had released gardiner from the tower, and made him her trusted minister. his advice in all matters, save that of her marriage, coincided with the emperor's. it was thought that small difficulty would be found in restoring the roman catholic religion, but that difficulties might arise about the papal supremacy, and especially about the reception of a papal legate. much depended on the pope. if his holiness did not demand the restoration of the ecclesiastical property alienated during the last two reigns, and now distributed among over forty thousand proprietors, all might go well. signs were not wanting, however, that if the people were almost unanimous in accepting mary as their queen, they were not united upon religion. when dr. gilbert bourne, preaching at st. paul's cross (aug. th, ) praised bishop bonner, he was interrupted by shouts; a dagger was thrown at him; he was hustled out of the pulpit, and his life was threatened. the tumult was only appeased when bradford, a known protestant, appealed to the crowd. the lord mayor of london was authorised to declare to the people that it was not the queen's intention to constrain men's consciences, and that she meant to trust solely to persuasion to bring them to the true faith. five days later (august th), mary issued her first _proclamation about religion_, in which she advised her subjects "to live together in quiet sort and christian charity, leaving those new-found devilish terms of papist or heretic and such like." she declared that she meant to support that religion which she had always professed; but she promised "that she would not compel any of her subjects thereunto, _unto such time as further order, by common assent, may be taken therein_"--a somewhat significant threat. the proclamation prohibited unlicensed preaching and printing "any book, matter, ballad, rhyme, interlude, process, or treatise, or to play any interlude, except they have her grace's special licence in writing for the same," which makes it plain that from the outset mary did not intend that any protestant literature should be read by her subjects if she could help it.[ ] mary was crowned with great ceremony on october st, and her first parliament met four days later (oct. th to dec. th, ). it reversed a decision of a former parliament, and declared that henry viii.'s marriage with catharine of aragon had been valid, and that mary was the legitimate heir to the throne; and it wiped out all the religious legislation under edward vi. the council had wished the anti-papal laws of henry viii. to be rescinded; but parliament, especially the house of commons, was not prepared for anything so sweeping. the church of england was legally restored to what it had been at the death of henry, and mary was left in the anomalous position of being the supreme head of the church in england while she herself devoutly believed in the supremacy of the bishop of rome. the title and the powers it gave were useful to restore by royal proclamation the mediæval ritual and worship, and mass was reintroduced in this way in december.[ ] meanwhile the marriage of the queen was being discussed. mary herself decided the matter by solemnly promising the spanish ambassador (oct. th) that she would wed philip of spain; the marriage treaty was signed on january th, ; the formal betrothal took place in march, and the wedding was celebrated on july th.[ ] it was very unpopular from the first. the boys of london pelted with snowballs the servants of the spanish embassy sent to ratify the wedding treaty (jan. st, ); the envoys themselves were very coldly received by the populace; and mary had to issue a proclamation commanding that all courtesy should be used to the prince of spain and his train coming to england to marry the queen.[ ] in september ( ) the pronouncedly protestant bishops who had remained in england to face the storm, cranmer, ridley, coverdale, latimer, were ejected and imprisoned; the protestant refugees from france and germany and many of the eminent protestant leaders had sought safety on the continent; the deprived romanist bishops, gardiner, heath, bonner, day, had been reinstated; and the venerable bishop tunstall, who had acted as wolsey's agent at the famous diet of worms, had been placed in the see of durham. various risings, one or two of minor importance and a more formidable one under sir thomas wyatt, had been crushed. lady jane grey, lord guilford dudley (february th, ), sir thomas wyatt, lord suffolk, and others were executed. charles v. strongly recommended the execution of the princess elizabeth, but his advice was not followed. england was still an excommunicated land, and both queen and king consort were anxious to receive the papal peace. as soon as he had been informed by mary of her succession to the throne, the pope, julius ii., had selected cardinal pole to be his legate to england (early in august ). no one could have been more suitable. he was related to the royal house of england, a grandson of the duke of clarence, who was the brother of edward iv. he had so thoroughly disapproved of the anti-papal policy of henry viii. that he had been compelled to live in exile. he was a cardinal, and had almost become pope. no one could have been more acceptable to mary. he had protested against her mother's divorce, and had suffered for it; and he was as anxious as she to see england restored to the papal obedience. but many difficulties had to be cleared away before pole could land in england as the pope's legate. the english people did not love legates, and their susceptibilities had to be soothed. if the pope made the restoration of the church lands a condition of the restoration of england to the papal obedience, and if mary insisted on securing that obedience, there would be a rebellion, and she would lose her crown. no one knew all these difficulties better than the emperor, and he exerted himself to overcome them. the curia was persuaded that, as it was within the canon law to alienate ecclesiastical property for the redemption of prisoners, the church might give up her claims to the english abbey lands in order to win back the whole kingdom. pole himself had doubts about this. he believed that he might be allowed to reason with the lay appropriators and persuade them to make restoration, and his enthusiasm on the subject caused many misgivings in the minds of both charles and philip. nor could the cardinal land in england until his attainder as an english nobleman had been reversed by parliament. he had been appointed legate to england once before (february th, ), in order to compass henry viii.'s return to the papal obedience; he had written against the royal supremacy. neither lords nor commons were very anxious to receive him. at last, more than thirteen months after his appointment, the way was open for his coming to england. he landed at dover (nov. th, ), went on to gravesend, and there found waiting him an act of parliament revers ing his attainder. it had been introduced into the lords, passed in the upper house in two days, was read three times in the commons in one day, and received the royal assent immediately thereafter (nov. th, ). tunstall, the bishop of durham, brought him letters patent, empowering him to exercise his office of legate in england. he embarked in a royal barge with his silver cross in the prow, sailed up the thames on a favouring tide, landed at whitehall, and was welcomed by mary and philip. on the following day the two houses of parliament were invited to the palace to meet him, and he explained his commission. the day after, the question was put in both houses of parliament whether the nation should return to the papal obedience, and was answered affirmatively. whereupon lords and commons joined in a supplication to the queen "that they might receive absolution, and be received into the body of the holy catholic church, under the pope, the supreme head thereof." the supplication was presented on the th, and in its terms the queen besought the legate to absolve the realm for its disobedience and schism. then, while the whole assembly knelt, king and queen on their knees with the others, the legate pronounced the absolution, and received the kingdom "again into the unity of our mother the holy church." it now remained to parliament to pass the laws which the change required. in one comprehensive statute all the anti-papal legislation of the reigns of henry viii. and of edward vi. was rescinded, and england was, so far as laws could make it,[ ] what it had been in the reign of henry vii. two days later (dec. nd, ), on the first sunday in advent, philip and mary, with the legate, attended divine service in st. paul's, and after mass listened to an eloquent sermon from bishop gardiner, in the course of which he publicly abjured the teaching of his book _de vera obedientia_.[ ] convocation received a special absolution from the legate. to show how thoroughly england had reconciled itself to mother church, parliament proceeded to revive the old acts against heresy which had been originally passed for the suppression of lollardy, among them the notorious _de hæretico comburendo_, and england had again the privilege of burning evangelical christians secured to it by act of parliament.[ ] in march the queen had issued a series of _injunctions_ to all bishops, instructing them on a variety of matters, all tending to bring the church into the condition in which it had been before the innovations of the late reign. the bishops were to put into execution all canons and ecclesiastical laws which were not expressly contrary to the statutes of the realm. they were not to inscribe on any of their ecclesiastical documents the phrase _regia auctoritate fulcitus_; they were to see that no heretic was admitted to any ecclesiastical office; they were to remove all married priests, and to insist that every person vowed to celibacy was to be separated from his wife if he had married; they were to observe all the holy days and ceremonies which were in use in the later days of the reign of king henry viii.; all schoolmasters suspected of heresy were to be removed from their office. these _injunctions_ kept carefully within the lines of the act which had rescinded the ecclesiastical legislation of the reign of edward vi.[ ] the bishop of london, bonner, had previously issued a list of searching questions to be put to the clergy of his diocese, which concerned the laity as well as the clergy, and which went a good deal further. he asked whether there were any married clergymen, or clergymen who had not separated themselves from their wives or concubines? whether any of the clergy maintained doctrines contrary to the catholic faith? whether any of the clergy had been irregularly or schismatically ordained? whether any of them had said mass or administered the sacraments in the english language after the queen's proclamation? whether they kept all the holy days and fasting days prescribed by the church? whether any of the clergy went about in other than full clerical dress? whether any persons in the parish spoke in favour of clerical marriage? these and many other minute questions were put, with the evident intention of restoring the mediæval ceremonies and customs in every detail.[ ] his clergy assured the bishop that it was impossible to make all the changes he demanded at once, and bonner was obliged to give them till the month of november to get their parishes in order. this london visitation evidently provoked a great deal of discontent. in april ( ) "a dead cat was hung on the gallows in the cheap, habited in garments like those of a priest. it had a shaven crown, and held in its forepaws a round piece of paper to represent a wafer.... a reward of twenty marks was offered for the discovery of the author of the outrage, but it was quite ineffectual."[ ] other graver incidents showed the smouldering discontent. the revival in parliament of the old anti-heresy laws may be taken as the time clearly foreshadowed in the queen's first proclamation on religious affairs when persuasion was to cease and force take its place. the platitudes of many modern historians about mary's humane and merciful disposition, about gardiner's aversion to shedding blood, about "the good bishop" bonner's benevolent attempt to persuade his victims to recant, may be dismissed from our minds. the fact remains, that the persecutions which began in were clearly indicated in , and went on with increasing severity until the queen's death put an end to them. the visitations had done their work, and the most eminent of the reformed bishops and divines had been caught and secured in various prisons. "the tower, the fleet, the marshalsea, the king's bench, newgate, and the two counters were full of them."[ ] their treatment differed. "the prisoners in the king's bench had tolerably fair usage, and favour sometimes shown them. there was a pleasant garden belonging thereunto, where they had liberty sometimes to walk." they had also the liberty of meeting for worship, as had the prisoners in the marshalsea. their sympathisers who had escaped the search kept them supplied with food, as did the early christians their suffering brethren in the first centuries. but in some of the other prisons the confessors were not only confined in loathsome cells, but suffered terribly from lack of food. at the end of strype's catalogue of the two hundred and eighty-eight persons who were burnt during the reign of mary, he significantly adds, "besides those that dyed of famyne in sondry prisons."[ ] some of the imprisoned were able to draw up (may th, ) and send out for circulation a confession of their faith, meant to show that they were suffering simply for holding and proclaiming what they believed to be scriptural truth. they declared that they believed all the canonical books of scripture to be god's very word, and that it was to be the judge in all controversies of faith; that the catholic church was the church which believed and followed the doctrines taught in scripture; that they accepted the apostles' creed and the decisions of the first four oecumenical councils and of the council of toledo, as well as the teachings of athanasius, irenæus, tertullian, and damasus; that they believed that justification came through the mercy of god, and that it was received by none but by faith only, and that faith was not an opinion, but a persuasion wrought by the holy ghost; they declared that the external service of god ought to be according to god's word, and conducted in a language which the people could understand; they confessed that god only by jesus christ is to be prayed to, and therefore disapproved of the invocation of the saints; they disowned purgatory and masses for the dead; they held that baptism and the lord's supper were the sacraments instituted by christ, were to be administered according to the institution of christ, and disallowed the mutilation of the sacrament, the theory of transubstantiation, and the adoration of the bread.[ ] this was signed by ferrar, hooper, coverdale (bishops), by rogers (the first martyr), by bradford, philpot, crome, saunders, and others. john bradford, the single-minded, gentle scholar, was probably the author of the confession. cardinal pole, in his capacity as papal legate, issued a commission (jan. th, ) to bishop gardiner and several others to try the prisoners detained for heresy. then followed (feb. th, ) the burning of john rogers, to whom tyndale had entrusted his translation of the scriptures, and who was the real compiler of the bible known as matthews'. the scenes at his execution might have warned the authorities that persecution was not going to be persuasive. crowds cheered him as he passed to his death, "as if he were going to his wedding," the french ambassador reported. his fate excited a strong feeling of sympathy among almost all classes in society, which was ominous. even simon renard, the trusted envoy of charles v., took the liberty of warning philip that less extreme measures ought to be used. but the worst of a persecuting policy is that when it has once begun it is almost impossible to give it up without confession of defeat. bishop hooper was sent to gloucester to suffer in his cathedral town, saunders to coventry, and dr. taylor was burnt on aldham common in suffolk. several other martyrs suffered the same fate of burning a few days afterwards. robert ferrar, the reformed bishop of st. david's, was sent to carmarthen to be burnt in the chief town of his diocese (march th, ). perhaps it was his death that gave rise to the verses in welsh, exhorting the men of the principality to rise in defence of their religion against the english who were bent on its destruction, and calling them to extirpate image worship and the use of the crucifix.[ ] bishops ridley and latimer and archbishop cranmer had been kept in confinement at oxford since april ; and they were now to be proceeded against. the two bishops were brought before the court acting on a commission from cardinal pole, the legate. they were condemned on oct. st, , and on the th they were burnt at oxford in the present broad street before balliol college. cranmer witnessed their death from the top of the tower in which he was confined. in the archbishop's case it was deemed necessary, in order to fulfil the requirements of canon law, that he should be tried by the pope himself. he was accordingly informed that his sovereigns had "denounced" him to the pope, and that his holiness had commissioned the cardinal du puy, prefect of the inquisition, to act on his behalf, and that du puy had delegated the duty to james brooks, who had succeeded hooper as bishop of gloucester, to the dean of st. paul's, and to the archdeacon of canterbury. the trial took place in st. mary's church. the accusers, philip and mary, were represented by drs. martyn and story. they, in the name of their sovereigns, presented a lengthy indictment, in which the chief charges were adultery, perjury, and heresy. the first meant that although a priest he had been married, and had even married a second time after he had been made an archbishop; the second, that he had sworn obedience to the pope and broken his oath; and the third, that he had denied the doctrine of transubstantiation.[ ] cranmer refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of his judges, but answered the charges brought against him to his accusers because they represented his sovereigns. he denied that the pope had any ecclesiastical power within england; but submitted to the kingly supremacy. as brooks had no authority from the pope to do more than hear the case, no judgment was pronounced; it was only intimated that the proceedings would be reported to rome. cranmer was conducted back to his prison. there he addressed first one, then a second letter to the queen.[ ] in dignified and perfectly respectful language he expressed the degradation of the kingdom exhibited in the act of the sovereigns appealing to an "outward judge, or to an authority coming from any person out of this realm" to judge between them and one of their own subjects. cranmer early in his career had come to the unalterable opinion that the papal supremacy was responsible for the abuses and disorders in the mediæval church, and that reformation was impossible so long as it was maintained. in common with every thoughtful man of his generation, he repudiated the whole structure of papal claims built up by the roman curia during the fifteenth century, and held that it was in every way incompatible with the loyalty which every subject owed to his sovereign and to the laws of his country. he took his stand on this conviction. "ignorance, i know," he said, "may excuse other men; but he that knoweth how prejudicial and injurious the power and authority which the pope challengeth everywhere is to the crown, laws, and customs of this realm, and yet will allow the same, i cannot see in anywise how he can keep his due allegiance, fidelity, and truth to the crown and slate of this realm." in his second letter he struck a bolder note, and declared that the oath which mary had sworn to maintain the laws, liberties, and customs of the realm was inconsistent with the other oath she had taken to obey the pope, to defend his person, and to maintain his authority, honour, laws, and privileges. the accusation of perjury did not touch him at all. the sovereigns--bishop brooks, appointed to try him--every constituted authority in the realm--when confronted by it, had to choose between the oath of allegiance to country or to papacy; he had chosen allegiance to his fatherland; others who acted differently betrayed it. that was his position. the words he addressed to queen mary--"i fear me that there be contradictions in your oath "--was his justification. at rome, cranmer was found guilty of contumacy, and the command went forth that he was to be deposed, degraded, and punished as a heretic. in the meantime he was burnt in effigy at rome. when he heard his sentence, he composed an appeal to a general council, following, he said, the example of luther.[ ] the degradation was committed to bonner and thirlby, and was executed by the former with his usual brutality. this done, he was handed over to the secular authorities for execution. then began a carefully prepared course of refined mental torture, which resulted in the "recantations of thomas cranmer."[ ] a series of recantations was presented to him, which he was ordered to sign by his sovereign; and, strange as it may seem now, it was the sovereign's command that made it almost impossible for cranmer to refuse to sign the papers which, one after another, were given him. he was a man who felt the necessity of an ultimate authority. he had deliberately put aside that of the pope, and as deliberately placed that of the sovereign in its place; and now the ultimate authority, which his conscience approved, commanded him to sign. the first four were not real recantations; cranmer could sign them with a good conscience; they consisted of generalities, the effect of which depended on the meaning of the terms used, and everyone knew the meanings which he had attached to the words all throughout his public life. but the fifth and the sixth soiled his conscience and occasioned his remorse. it was not enough for mary, pole, and bonner that they were able to destroy by fire the bodies of english reformers, they hoped by working partly on the conscience and partly on the weakness of the leader of the english reformation, to show the worthlessness of the whole movement. in the end, the aged martyr redeemed his momentary weakness by a last act of heroism. he knew that his recantations had been published, and that any further declaration made would probably be suppressed by his unscrupulous antagonists. he resolved by a single action to defeat their calculations and stamp his sincerity on the memories of his countrymen. his dying speech was silenced, as he might well have expected; but he had made up his mind to something which could not be stifled.[ ] "at the moment he was taken to the stake he drew from his bosom the identical paper (the recantation), throwing it, in the presence of the multitude, with his own hands into the flames, asking pardon of god and of the people for having consented to such an act, which he excused by saying that he did it for the public benefit, as, had his life, which he sought to save, been spared him, he might at some time have still been of use to them, praying them all to persist in the doctrines believed by him, and absolutely denying the sacrament and the supremacy of the church. and, finally, stretching forth his arm and right hand, he said: 'this which hath sinned, having signed the writing, must be the first to suffer punishment'; and thus did he place it in the fire and burned it himself."[ ] if the martyrdoms of ridley and latimer lighted the torch, cranmer's spread the conflagration which in the end burnt up the romanist reaction and made england a protestant nation. the very weakness of the aged primate became a background to make the clearer his final heroism. the "common man" sympathised with him all the more. he had never been a very strong man in the usual sense of the words. the qualities which go to form the exquisite liturgist demand an amount of religious sensibility and sympathy which seldom belongs to the leader of a minority with the present against it and the future before it. his peculiar kind of courage, which enabled him to face henry viii. in his most truculent moods, was liker a woman's than a man's, and was especially called forth by sympathy with others in suffering. none of henry's ministers pleaded harder or more persistently for the princess mary, the woman who burnt him, than did cranmer; and he alone of all his fellows dared to beseech the monarch for cromwell in his fall.[ ] the death of cranmer was followed by a long succession of martyrdoms. cardinal pole became the archbishop of canterbury, and in philip's absence the principal adviser of the queen. he did not manage, if he tried, to stop the burnings. sometimes he rescued prisoners from the vindictive bonner; at others he seems to have hounded on the persecutors. mary's conscience, never satisfied at the confiscation of property, compelled her to restore the lands still in possession of the crown, and to give up the "first fruits" of english benefices--the only result being to awaken the fears of thousands of proprietors, and set them against the papal claims. she attempted to restore the monastic institutions, with but scanty results; to revive pilgrimages to shrines, which were very forced affairs, and had to be kept alive by fining the parents of children who did not join them. the elevation of pope paul iv. (cardinal caraffa) to the see of rome increased her difficulties. the new pontiff, a neapolitan, hated her spanish husband, and personally disliked cardinal pole, her chief adviser. her last years were full of troubles. mary died in (nov. th). "the unhappiest of queens, and wives, and women," she had been born amidst the rejoicings of a nation, her mother a princess of the haughtiest house in europe. in her girlhood she had been the bride-elect of the emperor--a lovely, winning young creature, all men say. in her seventeenth year, at the age when girls are most sensitive, the crushing stroke which blasted her whole life fell upon her. her father, the parliament, and the church of her country called her illegitimate; and thus branded, she was sent into solitude to brood over her disgrace. when almost all england hailed her queen in her thirty-seventh year, she was already an old woman, with sallow face, harsh voice, her dark bright eyes alone telling how beautiful she had once been. but the nation seemed to love her who had been so long yearning for affection; she married the man of her choice; and she felt herself the instrument selected by heaven to restore an excommunicated nation to the peace of god. her husband, whom she idolised, tired of living with her after a few years. the child she passionately longed for and pathetically believed to be coming never came.[ ] the church and the pope she had sacrificed so much for, disregarded her entreaties, and seemed careless of her troubles. the people who had welcomed her, and whom she really loved, called her "bloody" mary,--a name which was, after all, so well deserved that it will always remain. each disappointment she took as a warning from heaven that atonement had not yet been paid for england's crimes, and the fires of persecution were kept burning to appease the god of sixteenth century romanism. chapter iv. the settlement under elizabeth.[ ] mary tudor's health had long been frail, and when it was known for certain that she would leave no direct heir (i.e. from about june ), the people of england were silently coming to the conclusion that elizabeth must be queen, or civil war would result. it seemed also to be assumed that she would be a protestant, and that her chief adviser would be william cecil, who had been trained in statecraft as secretary to england's greatest statesman, the lord protector somerset. so it fell out. many things contributed to create such expectations. the young intellectual life of england was slowly becoming protestant. both the spanish ambassadors noticed this with alarm, and reported it to their master.[ ] this was especially the case among the young ladies of the upper classes, who were becoming students learned in latin, greek, and italian, and at the same time devout protestants, with a distinct leaning to what afterwards became puritanism. elizabeth herself, at her most impressionable age had been the pupil of bishop hooper, who was accustomed to praise her intelligence. "in religious matters she has been saturated ever since she was born in a bitter hatred to our faith," said the bishop of aquila.[ ] the common people had been showing their hatred of romanism, and "images and religious persons were treated disrespectfully." it was observed that elizabeth "was very much wedded to the people and thinks as they do," and that "her attitude was much more gracious to the common people than to others."[ ] the burnings of the protestant martyrs, and especially the execution of cranmer, had stirred the indignation of the populace of london and the south counties against romanism, and the feelings were spreading throughout the country. all classes of the people hated the entire subjugation of english interests to those of spain during the late reign, just as the people of scotland at the same time were growing weary of french domination under mary of lorraine, and elizabeth shared the feeling of her people.[ ] yet there was so much in the political condition of the times to make both elizabeth and cecil pause before committing themselves to the reformation, that it is necessary to believe that religious conviction had a great influence in determining their action. england was not the powerful nation in - which it became after twenty years under the rule of the great queen. the agrarian troubles which had disturbed the three reigns of henry viii., edward, and mary had not died out. the coinage was still as debased as it had been in the closing years of henry viii. trade was stagnant, and the country was suffering from a two years' visitation of the plague. the war with france, into which england had been dragged by spain, had not merely drained the country of men and money, but was bringing nothing save loss of territory and damage to prestige. nor was there much to be hoped from foreign aid. the romanist reaction was in full swing throughout europe, and the fortunes of the continental protestants were at their lowest ebb. it was part of the treaty of cateau-cambrésis (april ) that france and spain should unite to crush the protestantism of the whole of europe, and the secret treaty between philip ii. and catherine de' medici in [ ] showed that such a design was thought possible of accomplishment during the earlier years of elizabeth. it was never wholly abandoned until the defeat of the armada in . cecil's maxim, that the reformation could not be crushed until england had been conquered, had for its corollary that the conquest of england must be the prime object of the romanist sovereigns who were bent on bringing europe back to the obedience of rome. the determination to take the protestant side added to the insecurity of elizabeth's position in the earlier years of her reign. she was, in the opinion of the pope and probably of all the european powers, romanist and protestant, illegitimate; and heresy combined with bastardy was a terrible weapon in the hands of henry ii. of france, who meant to support the claims of his daughter-in-law, the young queen of scots,--undoubtedly the lawful heir in the eyes of all who believed that henry viii. had been lawfully married to catharine of aragon. the spanish ambassador, count de feria, tried to frighten elizabeth by reminding her how, in consequence of a papal excommunication, navarre had been seized by the king of spain.[ ] his statement to his master, that at her accession two-thirds of the english people were romanists,[ ] may be questioned (he made many miscalculations), but it is certain that england was anything but a united protestant nation. still, who knew what trouble philip might have in the netherlands, and the lords of the congregation might be encouraged enough to check french designs on england through scotland.[ ] at the worst, philip of spain would not like to see england wholly in the grip of france. the queen and cecil made up their minds to take the risk, and england was to be protestant and defy the pope, from "whom nothing was to be feared but evil will, cursing, and practising." paul iv., it was said, was prepared to receive the news of elizabeth's succession favourably, perhaps under conditions to guarantee her legitimacy; but partly to his astonishment, and certainly to his wrath, he was not even officially informed of her accession, and the young queen's ambassador at rome was told that she had no need for him there. the changes at home, however, were made with all due caution. in elizabeth's first proclamation an "et cetera" veiled any claim to be the head of the church,[ ] and her earliest meddling with ecclesiastical matters was to forbid all contentious preaching.[ ] the statutory religion (romanist) was to be maintained for the meantime. no official proclamation was made foreshadowing coming changes. elizabeth, however, did not need to depend on proclamations to indicate to her people the path she meant to tread. she graciously accepted the bible presented to her on her entry into london, clasped it to her bosom, and pressed it to her lips. her hand ostentatiously shrank from the kiss of bonner the persecutor. the great lawyer, goderick, pointed out ways in which protestant feeling might find vent in a legal manner: "in the meantime her majesty and all her subjects may by licence of law use the _english litany_ and suffrages used in king henry's time, and besides her majesty in her closet may use the mass without lifting up the host according to the ancient canons, and may also have at every mass some communicants with the ministers to be used in both kinds."[ ] the advice was acted upon, improved upon. "the affairs of religion continue as usual," says the venetian agent (dec. th, ), "but i hear that at court when the queen is present a priest officiates, who says certain prayers with the litanies in english, after the fashion of king edward."[ ] she went to mass, but asked the bishop officiating not to elevate the host for adoration; and when he refused to comply, she and her ladies swept out of church immediately after the gospel was read.[ ] parliament was opened in the usual manner with the performance of mass, but the queen did not appear until it was over; and then her procession was preceded by a choir which sang hymns in english. when the abbot of westminster met her in ecclesiastical procession with the usual candles sputtering in the hands of his clergy, the queen shouted, "away with these torches, we have light enough."[ ] she was crowned on january th, ; but whether with _all_ the customary ceremonies, it is impossible to say; it is most likely that she did not communicate.[ ] the bishops swore fealty in the usual way, but were chary of taking any official part in the coronation of one so plainly a heretic. later in the day, dr. cox, who had been king edward's tutor, and was one of the returned refugees, preached before the queen. as early as dec. th ( ) the spanish ambassador could report that the queen "is every day standing up against religion (romanism) more openly," and that "all the heretics who had escaped are beginning to flock back again from germany."[ ] when convocation met it became manifest that the clergy would not help the government in the proposed changes. they declared in favour of transubstantiation and of the sacrifice of the mass, and against the royal supremacy. the reformation, it was seen, must be carried through by the civil power exclusively; and it was somewhat difficult to forecast what parliament would consent to do. what was actually done is still matter of debate, but it seems probable that the government presented at least three bills. the first was withdrawn; the second was wrecked by the queen withholding her royal assent; the third resulted in the act of supremacy and in the act of uniformity. it is most likely that the first and second bills, which did not become law, included in _one_ proposed act of legislation the proposals of the government about the queen's supremacy and about uniformity of public worship.[ ] the first was introduced into the house of commons on feb. th ( ), was discussed there feb. th to th, and then withdrawn. a "new" bill "for the supremacy annexed to the crown" was introduced in the commons on feb. st, passed the third reading on the th, and was sent to the lords on the th.[ ] the majority in the house of commons was protestant;[ ] but the marian bishops had great influence in the house of lords, and it was there that the government proposals met with strong opposition. dr. jewel describes the situation in a letter to peter martyr (march th): "the bishops are a great hindrance to us; for being, as you know, among the nobility and leading men in the upper house, and having none there on our side to expose their artifices and confute their falsehoods, they reign as sole monarchs in the midst of ignorant and weak men, and easily overreach our little party, either by their numbers or their reputation for learning. the queen, meanwhile, though she openly favours our cause, yet is wonderfully afraid of allowing any innovations."[ ] the bill (bill no. --the "new" bill), which had passed the commons on the th, was read for the first time in the lords on the th, passed the second reading on march th, and was referred to a committee consisting of the duke of norfolk, the bishops of exeter and carlisle, and lords winchester, westmoreland, shrewsbury, rutland, sussex, pembroke, montagu, clinton, morley, rich, willoughby, and north. they evidently made such alterations on the bill as to make that part of it at least which enforced a radical change in public worship useless for the purpose of the government. the clearest account of what the lords did is contained in a letter of a person who signs himself "il schifanoya," which is preserved in the state archives in mantua.[ ] he says: "parliament, which ought to have ended last saturday, was prolonged till next wednesday in passion week, and according to report they will return a week after easter (march , ); which report i believe, because of the three principal articles the first alone passed, viz. to give the supremacy of the anglican church to the queen ... notwithstanding the opposition of the bishops, and of the chief lords and barons of this kingdom; but the earls of arundel and derby, who are very good christians, absented themselves from indisposition, feigned, as some think, to avoid consulting about such ruin of this realm. "the earl of pembroke, the earl of shrewsbury, viscount montague and lord hastings did not fail in their duty, like true soldiers of christ, to resist the commons, whom they compelled to modify _a book passed by the commons forbidding the mass to be said or the communion to be administered (ne se communicassero) except at the table in the manner of edward vi._; nor were the divine offices to be performed in church; priests likewise being allowed to marry, and the christian religion and the sacraments being absolutely abolished; adding thereto many extraordinary penalties against delinquents. by a majority of votes they have decided that the aforesaid things shall be expunged from the book, and that the masses, sacraments, and the rest of the divine offices shall be performed as hitherto.... the members of the lower house, seeing that the lords passed this article of the queen's supremacy of the church, but not as the commons drew it up,--the lords cancelling the aforesaid clauses and modifying some others,--grew angry, and would consent to nothing, but are in very great controversy."[ ] the lords, induced by the marian bishops, had wrecked the government's plan for an alteration of religion. the queen then intervened. she refused her assent to the bill, on the dexterous pretext that she had doubts about the title which it proposed to confer upon her--_supreme head of the church_.[ ] she knew that romanists and calvinists both disliked it, and she adroitly managed to make both parties think that she had yielded to the arguments which each had brought forward. the spanish ambassador took all the credit to himself; and sandys was convinced that elizabeth had been persuaded by mr. lever, who "had put a scruple into the queen's head that she would not take the title of supreme head."[ ] the refusal of royal assent enabled the government to start afresh. they no longer attempted to put everything in one bill. a new act of supremacy,[ ] in which the queen was declared to be "the only supreme governor of this realm ... as well in all spiritual or ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal," was introduced into the commons on april th, and was read for a third time on the th. brought into the lords on april th, it was read for a second time on the th, and finally passed on april th. if the obnoxious title was omitted, all the drastic powers claimed by henry viii. were given to elizabeth. the elizabethan act revived no less than nine of the acts of henry viii.,[ ] and among them the statute concerning doctors of civil law,[ ] which contained these sentences: "most royal majesty is and hath always been, by the word of god, supreme head on earth of the church of england, and hath full power and authority to correct, punish, and repress all manner of heresies ... and to exercise all other manner of jurisdiction commonly called ecclesiastical jurisdiction"; and his majesty is "the only and undoubted supreme head of the church of england, and also of ireland, to whom by holy scripture all authority and power is wholly given to hear and determine all manner of causes ecclesiastical." thus the very title supreme head of the church of england was revived and bestowed on elizabeth by this parliament of . it may even be said that the ecclesiastical jurisdiction bestowed upon elizabeth was more extensive than that given to her father, for _schisms_ were added to the list of matters subject to the queen's correction, and she was empowered to delegate her authority to commissioners--a provision which enabled her to exercise her supreme governorship in a way to be felt in every corner of the land.[ ] this act of supremacy revived an act of king edward vi., enjoining that the communion should be given in both "kinds," and declared that the revived act should take effect from the last day of parliament.[ ] it contained an interesting proviso that nothing should be judged to be heresy which was not condemned by canonical scripture, or by the first four general councils "or any of them."[ ] the same parliament, after briefer debate (april th to th), passed an act of uniformity which took an interesting form.[ ] the act began by declaring that at the death of king edward vi. there "remained one uniform order of common service and prayer, and of the administration of sacraments, rites, and ceremonies in the church of england, which was set forth in one book, entitled _the book of common prayer and administration of the sacraments and other rites and ceremonies in the church of england_." this book had been authorised by act of parliament held in the fifth and sixth years of king edward vi., and this act had been repealed by an act of parliament in the first year of the reign of queen mary "to the great decay of the due honour of god, and discomfort of the professors of the truth of christ's religion." this act of queen mary was solemnly repealed, and the act of king edward vi., with some trifling alterations, was restored. in consequence, "all and singular ministers in any cathedral or parish church" were ordered "to say and use the matins, evensong, celebration of the lord's supper, and administration of each of the sacraments, and all their common and open prayer, in such order and form as is mentioned in the said book, so authorised by parliament in the said fifth and sixth years of the reign of king edward vi., with one alteration or addition of certain lessons to be used on every sunday in the year, and the form of the litany altered and corrected, and two sentences only added in the delivery of the sacrament to the communicants, and none other or otherwise." this meant that while there might be the fullest freedom of thought in the country and a good deal of liberty of expression, there was to be no freedom of public worship. all englishmen, of whatever creed, were to be compelled by law to join in one common public worship according to the ritual prescribed. the act of parliament which compelled them to this had no specific book of common prayer annexed to it and incorporated in it. it simply replaced on the statute book the act of king edward vi., and with it the second prayer-book of king edward, which with its rubrics had been "annexed and joined" to that act[ ]--certain specified alterations in the book being notified in the elizabethan act. the history of the elizabethan prayer-book is confessedly obscure. if an important paper called the _device_,[ ] probably drafted by cecil, embodied the intentions of the government, their procedure may be guessed with some probability. it enumerates carefully, after the manner of the great elizabethan statesman, the dangers involved in any "alteration of religion," and shows how they can be met or averted. france and scotland can be treated diplomatically. rome may be left unheeded--it is far away, and its opposition will not go beyond "evil will and cursing." the important dangers were at home. they would come from two sides--from the romanists backed by most of the higher clergy; and from the advanced reformers, who would scoff at the alteration which is alone possible in the condition of the kingdom, and would call it a "cloaked papistry and a mingle-mangle." yet both may be overcome by judicious firmness. the romanists may be coerced by penal laws. the danger from the advanced reformers may be got over by a carefully drafted prayer-book, _made as far as possible to their liking_, and enforced by such penalties as would minimise all objections. there is great hope that such penalties would "touch but few." "and better it were that they did suffer than her highness or commonwealth should shake or be in danger." the _device_ suggested that a small committee of seven divines--all of them well-known reformers, and most of them refugees--should prepare a book "which, being approved by her majesty," might be laid before parliament. it was evidently believed that the preparation of the book would take some time, for suggestion is made that food, drink, wood, and coals should be provided for their sustenance and comfort. there is no direct evidence to show that the suggested committee met or was even appointed; but evidence has been brought forward to show that most of the theologians named were in london, and were in a position to meet together and consult during the period when such a book would naturally be prepared.[ ] the whole matter is shrouded in mystery, and secrecy was probably necessary in the circumstances. no one knew exactly what was to take place; but some change was universally expected. "there is a general expectation that all rites and ceremonies will shortly be reformed," said richard hilles, writing to bullinger in the end of february ( ), "by our faithful citizens and other godly men in the afore-mentioned parliament, either after the pattern which was lately in use in the time of king edward the sixth, or which is set forth by the protestant princes of germany in the afore-mentioned confession of augsburg."[ ] the authorities kept their own counsel, and nothing definite was known to outsiders. a book was presented to the commons--_the book of common prayer and ministration of the sacraments_--on feb. th, at the time when the first draft of the supremacy bill was being discussed.[ ] it must have been withdrawn along with that bill. the second attempt at a supremacy act was probably accompanied with a prayer-book annexed to the bill; and this prayer-book was vehemently opposed in the lords, who struck out all the clauses relating to it.[ ] what this book of common prayer was, cannot be exactly known. many competent liturgist scholars are inclined to believe that it was something more drastic than the edwardine prayer-book of , and that it was proposed to enforce it by penalties more drastic than those enacted by the act of uniformity which finally passed. they find the characteristic features of the book in the well-known letter of guest (geste) to cecil.[ ] such suggestions are mere conjectures. the book may have been the edwardine prayer-book of . the government had made slow progress with their proposed "alteration of religion," and the protestant party were chafing at the delay. easter was approaching, and its nearness made them more impatient. canon law required everyone to communicate on easter day, which in fell on the th of march, and by a long established custom the laity of england had gone to the lord's table on that one day of the year. men were asking whether it was possible that a whole year was to elapse before they could partake of the communion in a protestant fashion. the house of commons was full of this protestant sentiment. the reactionary proceedings in the house of lords urged them to some protest.[ ] a bill was introduced into the lower house declaring that "no person shall be punished for now using the religion used in king edward's _last_ year." it was read twice and engrossed in one day (march th), and was read a third time and passed on march th.[ ] it does not appear to have been before the lords; but it was acted on in a curious way. a proclamation, dated march nd, declares that the queen, "with the assent of lords and commons," in the "present last session," has revived the act of king edward vi. touching the reception of the communion in both "kinds," and explains that the act cannot be ready for easter. it proceeds: "and because the time of easter is so at hand, and that great numbers, not only of the noblemen and gentry, but also of the common people of this realm, be certainly persuaded in conscience in such sort as they cannot be induced in any wise to communicate or receive the said holy sacrament but under both kinds, according to the first institution, and to the common use both of the apostles and of the primitive church ... it is thought necessary to her majesty, by the advice of sundry of her nobility and commons lately assembled in parliament," to declare that the statute of edward is in force, and all and sundry are commanded to observe the provisions of the statute.[ ] what is more, the queen acted upon her proclamation. the well-informed "schifanoya," writing on march th, says that the government "during this interval" (i.e. between march nd and march th) had ordered and printed a proclamation for every one to take the communion in both "kinds" (_sub utraque specie_). he goes on to say that on easter day "her majesty appeared in chapel, where mass was sung in english, _according to the use of her brother, king edward_, and the communion received in both 'kinds,' kneeling." the chaplain wore nothing "but the mere surplice" (_la semplice cotta_).[ ] the news went the round of europe. elizabeth had at last declared herself unmistakably on the protestant side. easter had come and gone, and the religious question had not received final settlement. the authorities felt that something must be done to counteract the speeches of the romanist partisans in the lords.[ ] so, while parliament was sitting, a conference was arranged between roman catholic and protestant divines. it seems to have been welcomed by both parties. count feria, the spanish ambassador, declared that he had something to do with it. he was anxious that the disputation should be in latin, that the arguments should be reduced to writing, and that each disputant should sign his paper. he was overruled so far as the language was concerned. the authorities meant that the laity should hear and understand. the three questions debated were:--whether a "particular church can change rites and ceremonies; whether the services of public worship must be conducted in latin; whether the mass is a propitiatory sacrifice." the conference was held at westminster on march st, in presence of the privy council, the lords and commons, and the "multitude." great expectations were cherished by both parties in anticipation, and when the romanist divines withdrew on points of procedure, their cause suffered in the popular estimation. two of the bishops were sent to the tower "for open contempt and contumacy"; and others seem to have been threatened.[ ] parliament reassembled after the easter recess and passed the act of supremacy in its third form, and the act of uniformity, which re-enacted, as has been said, the revised prayer-book--that is, the second book of king edward vi. with the distinctly specified alterations. the most important of these changes were the two sentences added to the words to be used by the officiating minister when giving the communion. the clauses had been in the first prayer-book of edward vi. while in the second prayer-book of king edward the officiating minister was commanded to say while giving the bread: _"take and eat this, in remembrance that christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving,"_ and while giving the cup, to say: _"drink this in remembrance that christ's blood was shed for thee, and be thankful;"_ the words were altered in the elizabethan book to: _"the body of our lord jesus christ, which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life. take and eat this in remembrance that christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving;"_ "_the blood of our lord jesus christ, which was shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life. drink this in remembrance that christ's blood was shed for thee, and be thankful._" the additions in no way detracted from the evangelical doctrine of the sacrament. they rather brought the underlying thought, into greater harmony with the doctrine of the reformed churches. but they have had the effect of enabling men who hold different views about the nature of the rite to join in its common use. when the act of uniformity was passed by parliament, the advanced reformers, who had chafed at what appeared to them to be a long delay, were contented. they, one and all, believed that the church of england had been restored to what it had been during the last year of the reign of edward vi.; and this was the end for which they had been striving, the goal placed before them by their friend and adviser, henry bullinger of zurich.[ ] their letters are full of jubilation.[ ] yet there were some things about this elizabethan settlement which, _if_ interpreted as they have been by some ecclesiastical historians, make it very difficult to understand the contentment of such men as grindal, jewel, and sandys. "of what was done in the matter of _ornaments_," says professor maitland, "by statute, by the rubrics of the book, and by _injunctions_ that the queen promptly issued, it would be impossible to speak fairly without lengthy quotation of documents, the import of which became in the nineteenth century a theme of prolonged and inconclusive disputation."[ ] all that can be attempted here is to mention the principal documents involved in the later controversy, and to show how they were interpreted in the life and conduct of contemporaries. the act of uniformity had restored, with some trifling differences clearly and definitely stated, edward vi.'s prayer-book of , and therefore its rubrics.[ ] it had at the same time contained a proviso saying that the _ornaments_ sanctioned by the authority of parliament in the second year of edward vi. were "to be retained and be in use" "until further order shall therein be taken." men like grindal and jewel took no exception to this proviso, which they certainly would have done had they believed that it ordained the actual use in time of public worship, of the ornaments used in the second year of king edward. the interpretation they gave to the proviso is seen from a letter from sandys to parker (afterwards archbishop of canterbury), written two days after the act of uniformity had passed the lords. he says: "the last book of service has gone through with a proviso to retain the ornaments which were used in the first and second year of king edward, until it please the queen to take other order for them. our gloss upon the text is that we shall not be enforced to use them, but that others in the meantime shall not convey them away, but that they may remain for the queen."[ ] sandys and others understood the proviso to mean that recalcitrant clergy like the warden of manchester, who carried his consecrated vestments to ireland, were not to make off with the ornaments, and that churchwardens or patrons were not to confiscate them for their private use. they were property belonging to the queen, and to be retained until her majesty's pleasure was known. the whole history of the visitations goes to prove that sandys' interpretation of the proviso was that of its framers. when the prayer-book was actually printed it was found to contain some differences from the edwardine book of besides those mentioned in the act as the only ones to be admitted; and early editions have not always the same changes. but the one thing of importance was a rubric which, on what seems to be the only possible interpretation, enjoins the use in public worship of the ornaments (_i.e._ the vestments) in use in the second year of king edward.[ ] how this rubric got into the prayer-book it is impossible to say. it certainly was not enacted by the queen "with assent of lords and commons." we have no proof that it was issued by the privy council.[ ] the use and wont of the church of england during the period of the elizabethan settlement was as if this rubric had never existed. it is directly contradicted by the thirtieth injunction issued for the royal visitation of .[ ] it was not merely contemptuously ignored by the elizabethan bishops; they compelled their clergy, if compulsion was needed, to act in defiance of it. contemporary sources abundantly testify that in the earlier years of the reign of queen elizabeth the english clergy in their ministrations scarcely ever wore any ecclesiastical garment but the surplice; and sometimes not even that. the _advertisements_[ ] of , which almost all contemporary notices speak of as prescribing what had been enjoined in the injunctions of , were drafted for the purpose of coercing clergymen who were in the habit of refusing to wear even the surplice, and they enjoined the surplice only, and the cope[ ] in cathedrals. in the visitation carried out in accordance with the directions in the injunctions, a clean sweep was made of almost all the _ornaments_ which were not merely permitted but ordered in the proviso of the act of uniformity and the rubric of on the ordinary ritualistic interpretation of these clauses. the visitors proceeded on a uniform plan, and what we hear was done in one place may be inferred as the common practice. the spanish ambassador (july or august ) wrote to his master: "they are now carrying out the law of parliament respecting religion with great rigour, and have appointed six visitors.... they have just taken the crosses, images, and altars from st. paul's and all the other london churches."[ ] a citizen of london noted in his diary: "the time before bartholomew tide and after, were all the roods and maries and johns, and many other of the church goods, both copes, crosses, censers, altar cloth, rood cloths, books, banners, banner stays, wainscot and much other gear about london, burnt in smithfield."[ ] what took place in london was done in the provinces. at grantham, "the vestments, copes, albs, tunicles, and all other such baggages were defaced and openly sold by the general consent of the whole corporation, and the money employed in setting up desks in the church, and making of a decent communion table, and the remnant to the poor."[ ] it is true that we find complaints on the part of men like jewel of ritualistic practices which they do not like; but these in almost every case refer to worship in the royal chapel. the services there were well known, and both friends and foes of the reformation seemed to take it for granted that what was the fashion in the royal chapel would soon extend to the rest of the realm.[ ] historians have usually attributed the presence of crosses, vestments, lights on the altar, to the desire of the queen to conciliate her romanist subjects, or to stand well with the great roman catholic powers of europe. it is quite likely that the queen had this thought in her mind. elizabeth was a thrifty lady, and liked to bring down many birds with the one stone. but the one abiding thought in the mind of the astute queen was to stand well with the lutherans, and to be able, when threatened with papal excommunication, to take shelter under the ægis of the peace of augsburg. when the government had secured the passing of the acts of supremacy and uniformity, they were in a position to deal with the recalcitrant clergy. eleven of the english episcopal sees had been vacant at the accession of elizabeth, among them that of the primate; for cardinal pole had died a few hours after mary, in the summer and autumn of the sixteen bishops were called upon to sign the oath of supremacy, in which the papal rule over the church of england was abjured, and the queen declared to be the supreme governor of the church. all the bishops, more or less definitely, refused to take the oath; although three were at first doubtful. they were deprived, and the english church was practically without bishops.[ ] some of the deprived bishops of king edward's time survived, and they were restored. then came discussion about the manner of appointing new ones. some would have preferred a simple royal nomination, as in edward's time; but in the end it was resolved that the appointment should be nominally in the hands of the deans and chapters according to mediæval rule, with the proviso, however, that the royal permission to elect had first to be given, and that the person named in the "leave to elect" should be chosen. then the question of consecration gave rise to some difficulties; but these were got over in ways which were deemed to be sufficient. matthew parker, after more than one refusal, was nominated and consecrated archbishop of canterbury. lists of clerical persons suitable for promotion were prepared for the queen,[ ] and the other sees were gradually filled. the elizabethan episcopate, with the exception of the few edwardine bishops, was an entirely new creation. a large number of the deans and members of the cathedral chapters had also refused to sign the oath of supremacy; they were deprived, and others who were on the lists were appointed in their place. the inferior clergy proved to be much more amenable, and only about two hundred were in the end deprived. the others all accepted the "alteration of religion"; and the change was brought about quietly and without the riotings which had accompanied the alterations made in the days of edward, or the wholesale deprivations which had followed upon those made by queen mary--when almost one-third of the beneficed clergy of the church of england had been removed from their benefices. a similar passive acquiescence was seen in the introduction of the new book of common prayer, and in the fulfilment of the various orders for the removal of images, etc. the great altars and crucifixes were taken away, and the pictures covered with whitewash, without any disturbances to speak of. the comparative ease with which the "alteration of religion" was effected was no doubt largely due to the increased protestant feeling of the country; but the tact and forbearance of those who were appointed to see the changes carried out counted for something; and perhaps the acquiescence of the roman catholics was due to the fact that they had no great leader, that they did not expect the elizabethan settlement to last long, and that they waited in expectation that one or other of the two romanist powers, france or spain, would interfere in their behalf. the religious revolution in scotland in saved the elizabethan settlement for the time; and philip of spain trifled away his opportunities until a united england overthrew his armada, which came thirty years too late. the change was given effect to by a royal visitation. england was divided into six districts, and lists of visitors were drawn up which included the lords lieutenants of the counties, the chief men of the districts, and some lawyers and clergymen known to be well affected to the reformation. they had to assist them a set of injunctions, modelled largely, not entirely, on those of edward vi., drafted and issued by royal command.[ ] the members of the clergy were dealt with very patiently, and explanations, public and private, were given of the act of supremacy which made it easier for them to accept it. the elizabethan bishops were also evidently warned to deal tenderly with stubborn parish clergymen; they would have been less patient with them if left to themselves. one, bishop best, bishop of carlisle, is found writing to cecil about his clergy, that "the priests are wicked impes of antichrist," for the most part very ignorant and stubborn; another, pilkington, the bishop of durham, in describing the disordered state of his diocese, declared that "like st. paul, he has to fight with beasts at ephesus"; and a third, scory, bishop of winchester, wrote that he was much hindered by justices of the peace who were roman catholics, and that when certain priests who had refused to take the oath were driven out of exeter and elsewhere, they were received and feasted in the streets with torch-lights.[ ] elizabeth's second parliament was very much more protestant than the first, and insisted that the oath of supremacy must be taken by all the members of the house of commons, by all lawyers, and by all schoolmasters. the convocation of proved that the clergy desired to go much further in the path of reformation than the queen thought desirable. they clearly wished for some doctrinal standard, and archbishop parker had prepared and laid before convocation a revised edition of the _forty-two articles_ which had defined the theology of the church of england in the last year of king edward vi.[ ] the way had been prepared for the issue of some authoritative exposition of the doctrinal position of the elizabethan church by the _declaration of the principal articles of religion_--a series of eleven articles framed by the bishops and published in (march), which repudiates strongly the romanist doctrines of the papacy, private masses, and the propitiatory sacrifice in the holy supper. the spanish ambassador, who had heard of the meetings of the bishops for this purpose, imagined that they were preparing articles to be presented to the council of trent on behalf of the church of england.[ ] the archbishop's draft was revised by convocation, and was "diligently read and sifted" by the queen herself before she gave her consent to the authoritative publication of the articles. these _thirty-nine articles_ expressed the doctrine of the reformed or calvinist as distinguished from the evangelical or lutheran form of protestant doctrine, and the distinction lay mainly in the views which the respective confessions of the two churches held about the presence of christ in the sacrament of the holy supper. by this time ( ) zwinglianism, as a doctrinal system, not as an ecclesiastical policy, had disappeared;[ ] and the three theories of the presence of christ in the sacrament had all to do with the presence of the body of christ and not with a spiritual presence simply. the romanist theory, transubstantiation, was based on the mediæval conception of a substance existing apart from all accidents of smell, shape, colour, etc., and declared that the "substance" of the bread and of the wine was changed into the "substance" of the body and blood of christ, while the accidents or qualities remained the same--the change being miraculously effected by the priest in consecrating the communion elements. the lutheran explanation was based upon a mediæval theory also--on that of the ubiquity or natural omnipresence of the "glorified" body of christ. the body of christ, in virtue of its ubiquity, was present everywhere, in chairs, tables, stones flung through the air (to use luther's illustrations), and therefore in the bread and in the wine as everywhere else. this ordinary presence became an efficacious sacramental presence owing to the promise of god. calvin had discarded both mediæval theories, and started by asking what was meant by _substance_ and what by _presence_; he answered that the substance of anything is its power (_vis_), and its presence is the immediate application of its power. thus the substance of the crucified body of christ is its power, and the presence of the crucified body of christ is the immediate application of its power; and the guarantee of the application of the power is the promise of god received by the believing communicant. by discarding the lutheran thought that the substance of the body of christ is something extended in space, and accepting the thought that the main thing in substance is power, calvin was able to think of the substance of the body of christ in a way somewhat similar to the mediæval conception of "substance without accidents," and was able to show that the presence of christ's body in the sacrament could be accepted and understood without the priestly miracle, which he and all protestants rejected. hence it came to pass that calvin could teach the real presence of christ's body in the sacrament of the supper without having recourse to the mediæval doctrine of "ubiquity," which was the basis of the lutheran theory. they both (calvin and luther) insisted on the presence of the body of christ; but the one (luther) needed the theory of "ubiquity" to explain the presence, while the other (calvin) did not need it. but as both discarded the priestly miracle while insisting on the presence of the body, the two doctrines might be stated in almost the same words, provided all mention of "ubiquity" was omitted. calvin could and did sign the augsburg confession; but he did not read into it what a lutheran would have done, the theory of "ubiquity"; and a calvinist statement of the doctrine, provided only "ubiquity" was not denied, might be accepted by a lutheran as not differing greatly from his own. bishop jewel asserts again and again in his correspondence, that the elizabethan divines did not believe in the theory of "ubiquity,"[ ] and many of them probably desired to say so in their articles of religion. hence in the first draft of the thirty-nine articles presented to convocation by archbishop parker, article xxviii. contained a strong repudiation of the doctrine of "ubiquity," which, if retained, would have made the articles of the church of england more anti-lutheran than even the second helvetic confession. the clause was struck out in convocation, probably because it was thought to be needlessly offensive to the german protestants.[ ] the queen, however, was not satisfied with what her divines had done, and two important interferences with the articles as they came from convocation are attributed to her. the first was the addition of the words: _and authoritie in controversies of fayth_, in article xx., which deals with the authority possessed by the church. the second was the complete suppression for the time being of article xxix., which is entitled, _of the wicked which do not eate the body of christe in the use of the lordes supper_, and is expressed in terms which most lutherans would have been loath to use. the queen's action was probably due to political reasons. it was important in international politics for a protestant queen not yet securely seated on her throne to shelter herself under the shield which a profession of lutheranism would give. the german lutherans had won legal recognition within the empire at the diet of augsburg in ; the votes of two lutheran electors had helped to place the emperor on his throne; and the pope dared not excommunicate lutheran princes save at the risk of offending the emperor and invalidating all his acts. this had been somewhat sternly pointed out to him when he first threatened to excommunicate elizabeth, and the queen knew all the difficulties of the papal position. one has only to read an account of a long conversation with her, reported by the spanish ambassador to his master (april th, ), to see what use the "wise queen with the eyes that could flash"[ ] made of the situation. the ambassador had not obscurely threatened her with a papal bull declaring her a bastard and a heretic, and had brought home its effects by citing the case of the king of navarre, whose kingdom was taken from him by ferdinand of spain acting as the pope's agent, and elizabeth had played with him in her usual way. she had remarked casually "that she wished the augsburg confession to be maintained in her realm, whereat," says the count de feria, "i was much surprised, and found fault with it all i could, adducing the arguments i thought might dissuade her from it. she then told me it would not be the augsburg confession, but something else like it, and that she differed very little from us, as she believed that _god was in the sacrament of the eucharist_, and only dissented from three or four things in the mass. after this she told me that she did not wish to argue about religious matters."[ ] she did not need to argue; the hint had been enough for the baffled ambassador. article xxix. was suppressed, and only _thirty-eight articles_ were acknowledged publicly. the papal bull of excommunication was delayed until , when its publication could harm no one but elizabeth's own romanist subjects, and the dangerous period was tided over safely. when it came at last, the queen was not anathematised in terms which could apply to lutherans, but because she personally acknowledged and observed "the impious constitutions and atrocious mysteries of calvin," and had commanded that they should be observed by her subjects.[ ] then, when the need for politic suppression was past, article xxix. was published, and the _thirty-nine articles_ became the recognised doctrinal standard of the church of england ( ). what the queen's own doctrinal beliefs were no one can tell; and she herself gave the most contrary descriptions when it suited her policy. the disappearance and reappearance of crosses and candles on the altar of the royal chapel were due as much to the wish to keep in touch with the lutherans as to any desire to conciliate the queen's romanist subjects. the convocation of had other important matters before it. its proceedings showed that the new elizabethan clergy contained a large number who were in favour of some drastic changes in the prayer-book and in the act of uniformity. many of them had become acquainted with and had come to like the simplicity of the swiss worship, thoroughly purified from what they called "the dregs of popery"; and others envied the scots, "who," wrote parkhurst to bullinger (aug. rd, ), "have made greater progress in true religion in a few months than we have done in many years."[ ] such men were dissatisfied with much in the prayer-book, or rather in its rubrics, and brought forward proposals for simplifying the worship, which received a large measure of support. it was thought that all organs should be done away with; that the ceremony of "crossing" in baptism should be omitted; that all festival days save the sundays and the "principal feasts of the church" should be abolished;--this proposal was lost by a majority of one in the lower house. another motion, leaving it to the option of communicants to receive the holy supper either standing, sitting, or kneeling, as it pleased them, was lost by a very small majority. many of the bishops themselves were in favour of simplifying the rites of the church; and five deans and twelve archdeacons petitioned against the use of the surplice. the movement was so strong that convocation, if left to itself, would probably have purified the church in the puritan sense of the word. but the queen had all the tudor liking for a stately ceremonial, and she had political reasons, national and international, to prevent her allowing any drastic changes. she was bent on welding her nation together into one, and she had to capture for her church the large mass of people who were either neutral or who had leanings to romanism, or at least to the old mediæval service. the council of trent was sitting; papal excommunication was always threatened, and, as above explained, lutheran protection and sympathy were useful. the ceremonies were retained, the crucifixes and lights on the altars were paraded in the chapel royal to show the lutheran sympathies of the queen and of the church of england. the reforming bishops, with many an inward qualm,[ ] had to give way; and gradually, as the queen had hoped, a strong conservative instinct gathered round the prayer-book and its rubrics. the convocation of witnessed the last determined attempt to propose any substantial alteration in the public worship of the english people. at the same convocation a good deal of time was spent upon a proposed book of discipline, or an authoritative statement of the english canon law. it is probable that its contents are to be found in certain "_articles for government and order in the church, exhibited to be permitted by authority; but not allowed_," which are printed by strype[ ] from archbishop parker's mss. such a book would have required parliamentary authority, and the parliament of was too much occupied with the vanishing protection of spain and with the threatening aspect of france and scotland. the marriage of the queen of scots with darnley had given additional weight to her claims on the english throne; and it was feared that the english romanists might rise in support of the legitimate heir. parliament almost in a panic passed severe laws against all recusants, and increased the penalties against all who refused the oath of allegiance or who spoke in support of the authority of the bishop of rome. the discipline of the church was left to be regulated by the old statute of henry viii., which declared that as much of the mediæval canon law as was not at variance with the scriptures and the acts of the english parliament was to form the basis of law for the ecclesiastical courts. this gave the bishop's officials who presided over the ecclesiastical courts a very free hand; and under their manipulation there was soon very little left of the canon law--less, in fact, than in the ecclesiastical courts of any other protestant churches. for these officials were lawyers trained in civil law and imbued with its principles, and predisposed to apply them whenever it was possible to do so. the formulation of the _thirty-nine articles_ in the convocation of may be taken as marking the time when the "alteration of religion" was completed. the result, arrived at during a period of exceptional storm and strain, has had the qualities of endurance, and the church of england is at present what the queen made it. it was the royal supremacy which secured for high church anglicans the position they have to-day. the chief features of the settlement of religion were: . the complete repudiation within the realm and church of england of the authority of the bishop of rome. all the clergy and everyone holding office under the crown had to swear to this repudiation. if they refused, or were recusants in the language of the day, they lost their offices and benefices; if they persisted in their refusal, they were liable to forfeit all their personal property; if they declined to take the oath for a third time, they could be proclaimed traitors, and were liable to the hideous punishments which the age inflicted for that crime. but elizabeth, with all her sternness, was never cruel, and no religious revolution was effected with less bloodshed. . the sovereign was made the supreme governor of the church of england; and that the title differed in name only from that assumed by henry viii. was made plain in the following ways: (_a_) convocation was stript of all independent legislative action, and its power to make ecclesiastical laws and regulations was placed under strict royal control.[ ] (_b_) appeals from all ecclesiastical courts, which were themselves actually, if not nominally, under the presidency of civil lawyers, could be made to royal delegates who might be laymen; and these delegates were given very full powers, and could inflict civil punishments in a way which had not been permitted to the old mediæval ecclesiastical courts. these powers raised a grave constitutional question in the following reigns. the royal delegates became a court of high commission, which may have been modelled on the consistories of the german princes, and had somewhat the same powers. . one uniform ritual of public worship was prescribed for all englishmen in the book of common prayer with its rubrics, enforced by the act of uniformity. no liberty of worship was permitted. any clergyman who deviated from this prescribed form of worship was liable to be treated as a criminal, and so also were all those who abetted him. no one could, under penalties, seek to avoid this public worship. every subject was bound to attend church on sunday, and to bide the prayers and the preaching, or else forfeit the sum of twelvepence to the poor. obstinate recusants or nonconformists might be excommunicated, and all excommunicated persons were liable to imprisonment. . although it was said, and was largely true, that there was freedom of opinion, still obstinate heretics were liable to be held guilty of a capital offence. on the other hand, the bishops had little power to force heretics to stand a trial, and, unless parliament or convocation ordered it otherwise, only the wilder sectaries were in any danger.[ ] protestant england grew stronger year by year. the debased copper and brass coinage was replaced gradually by honest gold and silver.[ ] manufactures were encouraged. merchant adventurers, hiring the queen's ships, took an increasing share in the world-trade with elizabeth as a partner.[ ] persecuted huguenots and flemings settled in great numbers in the country, and brought with them their thrift and knowledge of mechanical trades to enrich the land of their adoption;[ ] and the oppressed protestants of france and of the low countries learnt that there was a land beyond the sea ruled by a "wise young queen" which might be their city of refuge, and which was ready to aid them, if not openly, at least stealthily. england, formerly unarmed, became supplied "more abundantly than any other country with arms, munitions, and artillery." sound money, enlarged trade, growing wealth, and an increasing sense of security, were excellent allies to the cause of the protestant religion. so long as mary of scotland was in holyrood and able to command the sympathy, if not the allegiance, of the english roman catholics, the throne of elizabeth was never perfectly secure; but the danger from scotland was minimised by the jealousy between catherine de' medici and her daughter-in-law, and the scottish protestant lords could always be secretly helped. when philip ii. of spain, in his slow, hesitating way, which made him always miss the turn of the tide, at length resolved to aid mary to crush her rebels at home and to prosecute her claims on england, his interference had no further consequences than to afford elizabeth an honourable pretext for giving effectual assistance in the conflict which drove mary from her throne, and made scotland completely and permanently protestant.[ ] book v. _anabaptism and socinianism_ chapter i. revival of mediÆval anti-ecclesiastical movements. the revolt of luther was the occasion for the appearance--the outbreak, it might be called--of a large amount of irregular independent thinking upon religion and theology which had expressed itself sporadically during the whole course of the middle ages. the great difference between the thinkers and their intellectual ancestors who were at war with the mediæval church life and doctrine, did not consist in the expression of anything essentially new, but in the fact that the renaissance had introduced a profound contempt for the intellectual structure of ecclesiastical dogma, and that the whole of the sixteenth century was instinct with the feeling of individuality and the pride of personal existence. the old thoughts were less careful to accommodate themselves to the recognised modes of theological statement, they took bolder forms of expression, presented sharper outlines, and appeared in more definite statements. part of this thinking scarcely belongs to ecclesiastical history at all. it never became the intellectual basis of an institution; it neither stirred nor moulded the lives of masses of men. the leaders of thought remained solitary thinkers, surrounded by a loose fringe of followers. but as there is always something immortal in the forcible expression of human thought, their opinions have not died altogether, but have affected powerfully all the various branches of the christian church at different periods and in divers ways. the old conceptions, somewhat disguised, perhaps, but still the same, reappear in most systems of speculative theology. it therefore demands a brief notice. the greater portion of this intellectual effervescence, however, did not share the same fate. menno simons, aided, no doubt, by the winnowing fan of persecution, was able to introduce order into the wild fermenting elements of anabaptism, and to form the baptist church which has had such an honourable history in europe and america. fausto sozzini did the same for the heterogeneous mass of anti-trinitarian thinking, and out of the confusion brought the orderly unity of an institutional life. this great mass of crude independent thought may be roughly classified as mystic, or perhaps pantheist mystic, anabaptist, and anti-trinitarian; but the division, so far as the earlier thinkers go, is very artificial. the groups continually overlap; many of the leaders of thought might be placed in two or in all three of these divisions. what characterised them all was that they had little sense of historical continuity, cared nothing for it, and so broke with the past completely; that they despaired of seeing any good in the historical church, and believed that it must be ended, as it was impossible to mend it; and that they all possessed a strong sense of individuality, believing the human soul to be imprisoned when it accepted the confinement of a common creed, institution, or form of service unless of the very simplest kind. pantheistic mysticism was no new thing in christianity. as early as the sixth century at least, schools of thought may be found which interpreted such doctrines as the trinity and the person of christ in ways which led to what must be called pantheism; and if such modes of dissolving christian doctrines had not a continuous succession within the christian church, they were always appearing. they were generally accompanied with a theory of an "inner light" which claimed either to supersede the scriptures as the rule of faith, or at least to interpret them. the scriptures were the husk which might be thrown away when its kernel, discovered by the "inner light," was once revealed. the schwenkfelds, weigels, giordano brunos of the sixteenth century, who used what they called the "inner light" in somewhat the same way as the council of trent employed dogmatic tradition, had a long line of ancestry in the mediæval church, and their appearance at the time of the reformation was only the recrudescence of certain phases of mediæval thought. but, as has been said, such thinkers were never able, nor perhaps did they wish, to form their followers into a church; and they belong much more to the history of philosophy than to an ecclesiastical narrative. they had no conception whatever of religion in the reformation sense of the word. their idea of faith was purely intellectual--something to be fed on metaphysics more or less refined. by far the most numerous of those sixteenth century representatives of mediæval nonconformists were classed by contemporaries under the common name of anabaptists or katabaptists, because, from onwards, they all, or most of them, insisted on _re-_baptism as the sign of belonging to the brotherhood of believers. they were scattered over the greater part of europe, from sweden in the north to venice in the south, from england in the west to poland in the east. the netherlands, germany,--southern, north-western, and the rhineland,--switzerland, the tyrol, moravia, and livonia were scenes of bloody persecution endured with heroic constancy. their leaders flit across the pages of history, courageous, much-enduring men, to whom the world was nothing, whose eyes were fixed on the eternal throne of god, and who lived in the calm consciousness that in a few hours they might be fastened to the stake or called upon to endure more dreadful and more prolonged tortures,--men of every varying type of character, from the gentle and pious young humanist hans denck to jan matthys the forerunner of the stern camisard and covenanter. no statement of doctrine can include the beliefs held in all their innumerable groups. some maintained the distinctive doctrines of the mediæval church (the special conceptions of a priestly hierarchy, and of the sacraments being always excluded); others were lutherans, calvinists, or zwinglians; some were unitarians, and denied the usual doctrine of the person of christ;[ ] a few must be classed among the pantheists. all held some doctrine of an "inner light"; but while some sat very loose to the letter of scripture, others insisted on the most literal reading and application of biblical phraseology. they all united in maintaining that true christians ought to live separate from the world (_i.e._ from those who were not rebaptized), in communities whose lives were to be modelled on the accounts given in the new testament of the primitive christians, and that the true church had nothing whatever to do with the state. curiously enough, the leaders in the third group, the anti-trinitarians, were almost all italians. the most outstanding man among them, distinguished alike by his learning, his pure moral life, a distinct vein of piety, and the calm courage with which he faced every danger to secure the propagation of his opinions, was the spaniard miguel servede (servetus),[ ] who was burnt at geneva in . he was very much a man by himself. his whole line of thought separated him from the rest of the anti-trinitarian group associated with the names of the sozzini. he reached his position through a mystical pantheism--a course of thought which one might have expected from a spaniard. he made few or no disciples, and did not exert any permanent influence. the other anti-trinitarians of the first rank were all cultured italians, whom the spirit of the renaissance prompted to criticise and reconstruct theology as they found it. they were all men who had been driven to reject the roman church because of its corruptions and immoralities, and who had no conception of any other universal christian society. men of pure lives, pious after their own fashion, they never had any idea of what lay at the root of the reformation thought of what real religion was. it never dawned upon them that the sum of christianity is the god of grace, manifest in christ, accessible to every believing soul, and unwavering trust on man's part. their interest in religion was almost exclusively intellectual. the reformers had defined the church as the fellowship of believers, and they had said that the marks of that fellowship were the preaching of the word and the right use of the sacraments--the means through which god manifests himself to men, and men manifest their faith in god. these men never apprehended this; the only idea which they seemed able to have of the church was a school of definite and correct opinions. compelled to flee from their native land, they naturally took refuge in switzerland or in the grisons. it is almost pathetic to see how they utterly failed to understand the men among whom they found themselves. reformation to them was a criticism and reconstruction of theology; they were simply carrying the criticism a little further than their new neighbours. they never perceived the real gulf fixed between them and the adherents of the reformation. they were all highly educated and cultivated men--individual units from all parts of italy. camillo renato, who proclaimed himself an anabaptist, was a sicilian. gentili came from calabria; gribaldo from padua; bernardino occhino, who in his later days joined the band, and the two sozzini from siena. alciat was a piedmontese. blandrata (biandrata), the most energetic member of the group save fausto sozzini, belonged to a noble family in saluzzo which had long been noted for the protection it had afforded to poor people persecuted by the church. they were physicians or lawyers; one, gentili, was a schoolmaster. the strong sense of individuality, which seems the birthright of every italian, fostered by their life within their small city republics, had been accentuated by the renaissance. the historical past of italy, and its political and social condition in the sixteenth century, made it impossible for the impulse towards reform to take any other shape than that of individual action. the strength and the impetus which comes from the thought of fellow-man, fellow-believer, and which was so apparent in the reformation movements beyond the alps and in the jesuit reaction, was entirely lacking among these reformers in italy. in that land the empire had never regained its power lost under the great popes, gregory vii. and innocent iii. the romish church presented itself to all italians as the only possible form under which a wide-spreading christian _society_ could be organised. if men rejected it, personal christian life alone remained. the church dominated the masses unprepared by any such conception of ecclesiastical reform as influenced the people in germany and switzerland. only men who had received some literary education were susceptible to the influences making for reformation. they were always prevented by the unbroken power of the agencies of the church from organising themselves publicly into congregations, and could only meet to exchange confidences privately and on rare occasions.[ ] we hear of several such assemblies, which invariably took the form of conferences, in which the members discussed and communicated to each other the criticisms of the mediæval theology which solitary meditation had suggested to them. they were much more like debating societies than the beginnings of a church. thus we hear of one at vincenza,[ ] in , where about forty friends met, among whom was lelio sozzini, where they debated such doctrines as the satisfaction of christ, the trinity, etc., and expressed doubts about their truth. it was inevitable that such men could not hope to create a popular movement towards reformation in their native land, and also that they should be compelled to seek safety beyond the bounds of italy. they fled, one by one, across the alps. in the grisons and in reformed switzerland they found little communities of their countrymen who had sought shelter there, and their presence was always followed by dissensions and by difficulties with the native protestants. their whole habits of life and thought were not of the kind calculated to produce a lasting christian fellowship. their theological opinions, which were not the outcome of a new and living christian experience, but had been the result of an intellectual criticism of the mediæval theology, had little stability, and did not tend to produce unity. the execution of servede and the jealousy which all the reformed cantons of switzerland manifested towards opinions in any way similar to those of the learned spaniard, made life in switzerland as unsafe as it had been in italy. they migrated to poland and transylvania, attracted by the freedom of thought existing in both lands. poland, besides, had special attractions for refugees from italy. the two countries had long been in intimate relationship. italian architects had designed the stately buildings in crakau and other polish cities, and the commercial intercourse between the two countries was great. the independence and the privileges of the polish nobles secured them from ecclesiastical interference, and both calvinism and lutheranism had found many adherents among the aristocracy. they, like the roman patricians of the early centuries, gave the security of their halls to their co-religionists, and the heads of the romanist church chafed at their impotence to prevent the spread of opinions and usages which they deemed heretical. in transylvania the absence of a strong central government permitted the same freedom to the expression of every variety of religious opinion. the views held by the group of anti-trinitarians were by no means the same. they reproduced in poland the same medley of views we find existing in the end of the third century. some were sabellians, others adoptianists, a few were arians. perhaps most of them believed in the miraculous birth of our lord, and held as a consequence that he ought to be adored; but a strong minority, under the leadership of francis davidis, repudiated the miraculous birth, and refused to worship christ (_non-adorantes_). for a time they seem to have lived in a certain amount of accord with the members of the reformed communities. a crisis came at the polish diet of , and the anti-trinitarians were recognised then to be a separate religious community, or _ecclesia minor_. this was the field in which fausto sozzini exercised his commanding intellect, his genius for organisation, and his eminently strong will. he created out of these jarring elements the socinian church. the anabaptist and the socinian movements require, however, a more detailed description. chapter ii. anabaptism.[ ] the old monotonous mode of describing anabaptism has almost entirely disappeared with the modern careful examination of sources. it is no longer possible to sum up the movement in four stages, beginning with the zwickau prophets and ending with the catastrophe in münster, or to explain its origin by calling it the radical side of the reformation movement.[ ] it is acknowledged by careful students to have been a very complicated affair, to have had roots buried in the previous centuries, and to have had men among its leaders who were distinguished humanists. it is now known that it spread over europe with great rapidity, and attracted to itself an enormously larger number of adherents than had been imagined. it is impossible within the limits of one brief chapter to state and criticise the various theories of the origin and roots of the movement which modern investigation has suggested. all that can be done is to set down succinctly the conclusions reached after a tolerably wide examination of the sources--admitting at the same time that more information must be obtained ere the history of the movement advances beyond the controversial stage. it is neither safe nor easy to make abrupt general statements about the causes or character of great popular movements. the elements which combine to bring them into being and keep them in existence are commonly as innumerable as the hues which blend in the colour of a mountain side. anabaptism was such a complicated movement that it presents peculiar difficulties. as has been said, it had a distinct relation to two different streams of mediæval life, the one social and the other religious--the revolts of peasants and artisans, and the successions of the _brethren_. from the third quarter of the fifteenth century social uprisings had taken place almost every decade, all of them more or less impregnated with crude religious beliefs. they were part of the intellectual and moral atmosphere that the "common man," whether in town or country district, continuously breathed, and their power over him must not be lost sight of. the reformation movement quickened and strengthened these influences simply because it set all things in motion. it is not possible, therefore, to draw a rigid line of separation between some sides of the anabaptist movement and the social revolt; and hence it is that there is at least a grain of truth in the conception that the anabaptists were the revolutionaries of the times of the reformation. on the other hand, there are good reasons for asserting that the distinctively religious side of anabaptism had little to do with the anarchic outbreaks. it comes in direct succession from those communities of pious christians who, on the testimony of their enemies, lived quiet god-fearing lives, and believed all the articles in the apostles' creed; but who were strongly anti-clerical. they lived unobtrusively, and rarely appear in history save when the chronicle of some town makes casual mention of their existence, or when an inquisitor ferreted them out and records their so-called heresies. their objections to the constitution and ceremonies of the mediæval church were exactly those of the anabaptists of the sixteenth century; and if we do not find a universal repudiation of infant baptism, there are traces that some did not approve of it. they insisted that the service ought to be in the vulgar tongue; they objected to all the church festivals; to all blessing of buildings, crosses, and candles; they alleged that christ did not give his apostles stoles or chasubles; they scoffed at excommunications, indulgences, and dispensations; they declared that there was no regenerative efficacy in infant baptism; and they were keenly alive to all the injunctions of christian charity--it was better, they said, to clothe the poor than to expend money on costly vestments or to adorn the walls of churches, and they kept up schools and hospitals for lepers. they met in each other's houses for public worship, which took the form of reading and commenting upon the holy scriptures.[ ] as we are dependent on very casual sources of information, it is not surprising that we cannot trace their _continuous_ descent down to the period of the reformation; but we do find in the earlier decades of the sixteenth century notices of the existence of small praying communities, which have all the characteristics of those recorded in the inquisitors' reports belonging to the end of the fourteenth or beginning of the fifteenth centuries. they appeared in basel in , in switzerland in , in mainz in , and in augsburg somewhat earlier.[ ] by the year similar "praying circles" were recorded as existing in france, in the netherlands, in italy, in saxony, in franconia, at strassburg, and in bohemia. they used a common catechism for the instruction of their young people which was printed in french, german, bohemian, and perhaps italian. in germany, the bible was the german vulgate--a version retained among the anabaptists long after the publication of luther's. they exhibited great zeal in printing and distributing the pious literature of the _friends of god_ of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. many of them taught baptist views, though the tenets were not universally accepted, and they were already called anabaptists or katabaptists--a term of reproach. some of their more distinguished leaders were pious humanists, and _their_ influence may perhaps be seen in the efforts made by the _brethren_ to print and distribute the _defensor pacis_ of marsiglio of padua. this quiet evangelical movement assumed a more definite form in . before that date the associations of pious people acted like the pietists of the seventeenth or like the wesleyans of the eighteenth century. they associated together for mutual edification; they did not obtrusively separate themselves from the corrupt or slothful church. but in june , delegates representing a very wide circle of "praying assemblies" or _readings_ met at waldshut, in the house of balthasar hübmaier,[ ] bringing their bibles with them, to consult how to organise their christian living on the lines laid down in the new testament. no regular ecclesiastical organisation was formed. _the brethren_ resolved to separate from the papal church; they published a directory for christian living, and drew up a statement of principles in which they believed. amongst other things, they protested against any miraculous efficacy in the sacraments in general, and held that baptism is efficacious only when it is received in faith. this led afterwards to the adoption of baptist views. a second conference was held at augsburg in , which probably dates the time when adult baptism became a distinctive belief among all the _brethren_. this conference suggested a general synod which met at augsburg in (aug.), and included among its members, delegates from munich, franconia, ingolstadt, upper austria, styria, and switzerland. there they drew up a statement of doctrinal truth, which is very simple, and corresponds intimately with what is now taught among the moravian brethren. their hymn-book[ ] does not bear any traces of the errors in doctrine usually attributed to them. its chief theme is the love of god awakening our love to god and to our fellow-men. instead of infant baptism they had a ceremony in which the children were consecrated to god. baptism was regarded as the sign of conversion and of definite resolve to give one's self up to the worship and service of god. it was administered by _sprinkling_; the recipient knelt to receive it in the presence of the congregation. the holy supper was administered at stated times, and always after one or two days of solemn preparation. their office-bearers were deacons, elders, masters and teachers, or pastors. they distinguished between pastors who were wandering evangelists and those who were attached to single congregations. the latter, who were ordained by the laying on of hands, alone had the right to dispense the sacraments. all the deacons, elders, and pastors belonging to communities within a prescribed district, selected from among themselves delegates who formed their ecclesiastical council for the district, and this council elected one of the pastors to act as bishop or superintendent. it was the superintendent who ordained by laying on of hands. the whole of the _brethren_ were governed ecclesiastically by a series of synods corresponding to those in the presbyterian churches. this organisation enabled the anabaptists to endure the frightful persecution which they were soon to experience at the hands of the papal and lutheran state churches. the chief leaders were balthasar hübmaier and hans denck. hübmaier was a distinguished scholar. he became, at an unusually early age, professor of theology at ingolstadt ( ); he was rector of the famous high school in that city ( ); and cathedral preacher at regensburg (ratisbon) ( ). in , feeling that he could no longer conscientiously occupy such positions, he retired to the little town of waldshut. hans denck was a noted humanist, a member of the "erasmus circle" at basel, and esteemed the most accurate greek scholar in the learned community. conrad grebel, another well-known anabaptist leader, also belonged to the "erasmus circle," and was a member of one of the patrician families of zurich. like hübmaier and denck, he gave up all to become an evangelist, and spent his life on long preaching tours. these facts are sufficient to refute the common statement that the anabaptists were ignorant fanatics. perhaps denck was the most widely known and highly esteemed. in the summer of he was appointed rector of the celebrated sebaldus school in nürnberg. in the end of he was charged with heresy, and along with him jörg penz, the artist, the favourite pupil of albert dürer, and four others. denck was banished from the city, and his name became well known. this trial and sentence was the occasion of his beginning that life of wandering evangelist which had among other results the conferences in and , and the organisation above described. denck had drunk deeply at the well of the fourteenth and fifteenth century mystics, and his teaching was tinged by many of their ideas. he believed that there was a spark of the divine nature in man, an inner word, which urged man to walk in the ways of god, and that man could always keep true to the inward monitor, who was none else than christ. the accounts given of some of his addresses seem to be echoes of tauler's famous sermon on the bridegroom and the bride, for he taught that the sufferings of the faithful are to be looked upon as the love-gifts of the saviour, and are neither to be mourned nor resisted. we are told in the quaint _chronicle_ of sebastian frauck, that the baptist current swept swiftly through the whole land; many thousands were baptized, and many hearts drawn to them. "for they taught nothing but love, faith, and crucifixion of the flesh, manifesting patience and humility under many sufferings, breaking bread with one another in sign of unity and love, helping one another with true helpfulness, lending, borrowing, giving, learning to have all things in common, calling each other 'brother.'"[ ] he adds that they were accused of many things of which they were innocent, and were treated very tyrannically. the anabaptists, like the earlier mystics, displayed a strong individuality; and this makes it impossible to classify their tenets in a body of doctrine which can be held to express the system of intellectual belief which lay at the basis of the whole movement. we have three contemporary accounts which show the divergence of opinion among them--two from hostile and one from a sympathetic historian. bullinger[ ] attempts a classification of their different divisions, and mentions thirteen distinct sects within the anabaptist circle; but they manifestly overlap in such a way as to suggest a very large amount of difference which cannot be distinctly tabulated. sebastian franck[ ] notes all the varieties of views which bullinger mentions, but refrains from any classification. "there are," he says, "more sects and opinions, which i do not know and cannot describe, but it appears to me that there are not two to be found who agree with each other on all points." kessler,[ ] who recounts the story of the anabaptists of st. gallen, notes the same great variety of opinions. it is quite possible to describe the leading ideas taught by a few noted men and approved of by their immediate circle of followers, and so to arrive with some accuracy at the popularity of certain leading principles among different parties, but it must be remembered that no great leader imposed his opinions on the whole anabaptist circle, and that the views held at different times by prominent men were not invariably the sentiments which lay at the basis of the whole movement. the doctrine of passive resistance was held by almost all the earlier anabaptists, but it was taught and practised in such a great variety of ways that a merely general statement gives a misleading idea. all the earlier anabaptists believed that it was unchristian to return evil for evil, and that they should take the persecutions which came to them without attempting to retaliate. some, like the young humanist, hans denck, pushed the theory so far that they believed that no real christian could be either a magistrate or a soldier. a small band of anabaptists, to whom one of the counts of liechtenstein had given shelter at nikolsburg, told their protector plainly that they utterly disapproved of his threatening the austrian commissary with armed resistance if he entered the nikolsburg territory to seize them. in short, what is called "passive resistance" took any number of forms, from the ordinary christian maxim to be patient under tribulation, to that inculcated and practised by the modern sect of dunkers. the followers of melchior hoffman, called "melchiorites," held apocalyptic or millenarian views, and expected in the near future the return of christ to reign over his saints; but there is no reason to suppose that this conception was very widely adopted, still less that it can be called a tenet of anabaptism in general. all the anabaptists inculcated the duty of charity and the claims of the poor on the richer members of the community; but that is a common christian precept, and does not necessarily imply communistic theories or practices. all that can be definitely said of the whole anabaptist circle was that they did keep very clearly before them the obligations of christian love. the so-called communism in münster will be described later. when we examine carefully the incidental records of contemporary witnesses observing their anabaptist neighbours, we reach the general conclusion that their main thought was to reproduce in their own lives what seemed to them to be the beliefs, usages, and social practices of the primitive christians. translations of the bible and of parts of it had been common enough in germany before luther's days. the "common man," especially the artisan of the towns, knew a great deal about the bible. it was the one book he read, re-read, and pondered over. fired with the thoughts created in his mind by its perusal, simple men felt impelled to become itinerant preachers. the "call" came to them, and they responded at once to what they believed to be the divine voice. witness hans ber of alten-erlangen, a poor peasant. he rose from his bed one night and suddenly began to put on his clothes. "whither goest thou?" asked his poor wife. "i know not; god knoweth," he answered. "what evil have i done thee? stay and help me to bring up my little children," "dear wife," he answered, "trouble me not with the things of time. i must away, that i may learn the will of the lord."[ ] such men wandered about in rude homespun garments, often barefooted, their heads covered with rough felt hats. they craved hospitality in houses, and after supper produced their portions of the bible, read and expounded, then vanished in the early morning. we are told how hans hut came to the house of franz strigel at weier in franconia, produced his bible, read and expounded, explained the necessity of adult baptism, convinced strigel, the house father, and eight others, and baptized them there and then. he wandered forth the same night. none of the baptized saw him again; but the little community remained--a small band of anabaptists.[ ] these wandering preachers, "prophets" they may be called if we give them the early christian name, were not drilled in any common set of opinions. each conceived the primitive teaching and social life as he seemed to see it reflected in the new testament; and no two conceptions were exactly the same. the circumstances and surroundings produced an infinite variety of thought about the doctrines and usages which ought to be accepted and practised. yet they had traditional modes of interpretation handed down to them from the praying circles of the "brethren." compare what the austrian inquisitor says of the "brethren" in the thirteenth century, with what johann kessler tells about the anabaptists of st. gallen, and the resemblance is striking so far as external appearance goes. "hæretici cognoscuntur per mores et verba," says the inquisitor. "sunt enim in moribus compositi et modesti; superbiam in vestibus non habent, nec pretiosis, nec multum abjectis utuntur.... doctores etiam ipsorum sunt sutores et textores. divitias non multiplicant, sed necessariis sunt contenti. casti etiam sunt.... temperati etiam in cibo et potu. ad tabernas non eunt, nec ad choreas, nec ad alias vanitates. ab ira se cohibent; semper operantur, discunt vel docent, et ideo parum orant.... cognoscuntur etiam in verbis præcisis et modestis. cavent etiam a scurrilitate et detractione, et verborum levitate, et mendacio, et juramento."[ ] kessler tells us that the walk and conversation of these anabaptists was "throughout pious, holy, and blameless"; that they refrained from wearing costly apparel, despised luxurious eating and drinking, clothed themselves in rough cloth, wore slouch hats on their heads. franck relates that they refused to frequent wine-shops and the "gild" rooms where dances were held. as they lived again the life of these mediæval sectaries, so they reproduced their opinions in the same sporadic way. some of them objected to all war even in self-defence, as did some of the earlier lollards. their lord had said to his first disciples: "go your ways: behold, i send you forth as lambs in the midst of wolves." they flung from them the sword, with which peasant and artisan were then alike girt, and went about as the apostles were ordered to do, with staves in their hands--the _stäbler_ or _staffmen_ who would have nothing to do with the weapons of wolves. others, also like some of the lollards, would not enter the "huge stone houses with great glass windows which men called 'churches.'" the early christians had preached and "broken bread" in houses; and they would follow their example; and in private rooms, in the streets, in the market-places, they proclaimed their gospel of peace and contentment. the infinitesimal number who taught something like "free love," and who were repudiated by the others, were reproducing the vagaries of the mediæval _brethren and sisters of the free spirit_, who gave meister eckhart so much trouble centuries before in the rhineland. all the more extravagant ideas and practices which appear among small sections of these anabaptists of the sixteenth century can be found among the sectaries of the middle ages. for the whole anabaptist movement was mediæval to the core; and, like most of the mediæval religious awakenings, produced an infinite variety of opinions and practices. the one idea common to all was, that the christians of the sixteenth century were called to reproduce in thought and life the intellectual beliefs and usages of the primitive christians. it is simply impossible to give any account of opinions and practices which were _universally_ prevalent among them. even the most widely spread usages, adult baptism and the "breaking of bread," were not adopted in all the divisions of the anabaptists. what is more, they were modern enough, at least in the earlier stages of the movement, to be conscious of this (which the mystics were not), and to give it expression. all felt and thought as did a "simple man," hans müller of medikon, when brought before the zurich magistrates: "do not lay a burden on my conscience, for faith is a gift given freely by god, and is not common property. the mystery of god lies hidden, like the treasure in the field, which no one can find but he to whom the spirit shows it. so i beg you, ye servants of god, let my faith stand free."[ ] and the anabaptists, alone of all the religious parties in those strenuous times, seem to have recognised that what they claimed for themselves they were bound to grant to others. great differences in opinion did not prevent the strictest brotherly fellowship. hans denck held a doctrine of non-resistance as thoroughgoing as that of count tolstoy, and fully recognised the practical consequences to which it led. but this did not prevent the ardent and gifted young humanist working loyally with hübmaier, who did not share his extreme opinions. the divergences among the leaders appeared in their followers without destroying the sense of brotherhood. franck tells us in his _chronicle_[ ] that some, but very few, held that no christian could enter the magistracy, for christians had nothing to do with the sword, but only with spiritual excommunication, and that no christian should fight and slay. the others, he says, including the very great majority, believed that christians might become magistrates, and that in case of dire necessity and when they clearly saw the leading of god, might take their share in fighting as soldiers. melchior hoffman, while he believed in the incarnation, held that jesus received his flesh directly from god, and did not owe his body to the virgin mother, through whom he passed "as light through a pane of glass." he also held that the whole history of the world, down to the last days, was revealed in scripture, and could be discovered through prayer and meditation. he was an eloquent and persuasive preacher, and his views were accepted by many; but it would be a great mistake to assume that they were shared in by the anabaptists as a community. yet even contemporaries, who were opponents, usually attribute the extreme opinions of a few to the entire body. it ought to be observed that this tolerance of different opinions within the one society did not extend to those who remained true to the state churches, whether romanist or reformed. the anabaptists would have nothing to do with a state church; and this was the main point in their separation from the lutherans, zwinglians, and calvinists. it was perhaps the _one_ conception on which all parties among them were in absolute accord. the real church, which might be small or great, was for them an association of believing people; and the great ecclesiastical institutions into which unconscious infants were admitted by a ceremony called baptism long before they could have or exercise faith, represented to them an idea subversive of true christianity. they had no wish to persecute men who differed widely from them, but they would not associate with them. this enforced "separation," like everything else connected with anabaptism, differed considerably in the way in which it was carried into practice. in some of the smaller sections it appeared in very extravagant forms. wives and husbands, anabaptists whose partners belonged to the state churches, were in some small sections advised to refuse cohabitation. it is more than probable that some recorded sayings on which opponents have founded charges of encouraging sexual irregularities,--that it was better for women to have connection irregularly with members of the brotherhood than to cohabit with unbelieving husbands,--were simply extravagant ways of expressing this duty of separation. it is also true that as time went on and sects of extreme opinions multiplied, the excommunication of members for their views came to be a common practice. it was as frequent among some of the smaller divisions as it is among modern plymouth brethren; but the occasion was, as a rule, difference of opinion about the way to express and exercise the duty of not returning evil for evil--was it permitted to pay taxes or not? was it lawful to see without protest their protectors using force to prevent their enemies from attacking them, etc.? the earlier ideas of non-resistance, whatever practical shape they might take, gave way before the continuous and terrible persecution which the anabaptists had to endure. they were first definitely condemned by melchior hoffman and his followers. they believed in the speedy establishment on earth of the millennial kingdom of christ, and they declared that they were ready to fight for it when it appeared. with them the conception was simply a pious opinion, and they had no occasion to reduce it to action. the anabaptists, however, who followed the teaching of jan matthys and of his disciple jan bockelson, repudiated passive resistance both in theory and in practice. of course, there are many things about some, perhaps all, great religious awakenings which critics can lay hold of to their disparagement; and it was so with the anabaptist movement. everything, from the scientific frame of mind to the religious sensibility, has the defects of its qualities. when a man is seized and possessed by a new spiritual emotion which seems to lift him above all previous experience of life or of thought, all things are new to him, and all things seem possible. his old life with its limitations has departed. he is embarked on a sea which has no imprisoning shores. he is carried along on a great current of emotion, and others are borne with him. human deep calleth unto deep when they exchange confidences. he and his fellows have become new creatures; and that is almost all that they know about themselves. such experiences are quite consistent with soundness of mind and clearness of vision of god and divine things--that is usual; but sometimes they are too powerful for the imperfect mind which holds them. the converts are "puffed up," as st. paul said. then arise morbid states, distorted vision, sometimes actual shipwreck of mental faculties, not seldom acute religious mania. leaders in a great religious awakening have always to reckon with such developments--st. paul, francis of assisi, eckhart, tauler, to say nothing of modern instances. the apostle addressed morbid souls with severe sarcasm. did any man really think, he asked, that to commit incest, to take to wife his father's widow, was an example of the freedom with which christ had made them free? the anabaptist movement had its share of such cases, like other religious movements; they grew more frequent as the unfortunate people were maddened by persecution; and these exceptional incidents are invariably retailed at length by historians hostile to the movement. the anabaptists, as a whole, were subjected to persecutions, especially from the romanists and the lutherans, much more harsh than befell any of the religious parties of the sixteenth century. their treatment in zurich may be taken as an example of how they came in contact with the civil authorities, and how their treatment grew in severity.[ ] the swiss anabaptists were in no sense disciples of zwingli. they had held their distinctive principles and were a recognised community long before zwingli came from einsiedeln, and were the lineal descendants of the mediæval waldenses. they welcomed the reformer; some of them were in the company who challenged the authorities by eating meat during lent in ; but a fundamental difference soon emerged. after the public disputation of , when it became clear that zurich meant to accept the reformation, a deputation of the _brethren_ appeared before the council to urge their idea of what a reformed church should be. their statement of principles is an exposition of the fundamental conceptions which lay at the basis of the whole anabaptist movement, and explains why they could not join either the lutheran or the reformed branch of the reformation church. they insisted that an evangelical church must differ from the roman church in this among other things, that it should consist of members who had made a personal profession of faith in their saviour, and who had vowed to live in obedience to jesus christ their _hauptmann_. it could not be like a state church, whether romanist or other, to which people belonged without any individual profession of faith. they insisted that the church, thus formed, should be free from all civil control, to decide for itself what doctrines and ceremonies of worship were founded on the word of god, and agreeable thereto, and should make this decision according to the opinions of a majority of the members. they further asked that the church should be free to exercise, by brotherly admonition and, as a last resort, by excommunication, discipline on such of its members as offended against the moral law. they also declared that the church which thus rejected state control ought to refuse state support, and proposed that the tithes should be secularised. the new testament, they said, knew nothing about interest and usury, tithes, livings, and prebends. these views were quite opposed to the ideas of the zurich council, who contemplated a state church reformed from romanist abuses, but strictly under the control of the state, and supported by the tithes, as the mediæval church had been. they refused to adopt the ideas of the anabaptists; and this was the beginning of the antagonism. the council found that the great majority of the petitioners had doubts about infant baptism, and were inclined to what are now called baptist views; and they brought matters to a crisis by ordering a public disputation on baptism (jan. th, ). among the anabaptists who appeared to defend their principles, were young conrad grebel the humanist, felix manz, and brother jörg from jacob's house, a conventual establishment near chur, who is always called "blaurock" (blue-coat). they were opposed by zwingli, who insisted that infant baptism must be maintained, because it took the place of circumcision. the council decided that zwingli's contention was right, and they made it a _law_ that _all children must be baptized_, and added that all persons who refused to have their children baptized after feb. st, , were to be arrested. the anabaptists were not slow to answer the challenge thus given. they met, and after deliberation and prayer blaurock asked conrad grebel to baptize him in a truly christian fashion, "there being no ordained person present," and grebel did so. "when this had been done the others entreated blaurock to baptize them, which he did; and in deep fear of the lord they gave themselves to god." they resolved to preach and baptize, because in this they ought to obey god rather than men.[ ] when the council heard that adult baptism had begun, they enacted that all who had been rebaptized after feb. th ( ) were to be fined a silver mark, and that whoever was baptized after the issue of their decree should be banished. they also imprisoned the leaders. when they found that neither fines, nor threats, nor imprisonment, nor banishment had any effect on the anabaptists, the town council thought to terrify them by a death sentence. two were selected, manz and blaurock. the latter was not a citizen, and the sentence of death was commuted to one of public scourging and being thrust out of the town; but felix manz, a townsman, was put to death by drowning ( ). zwingli insisted that this judicial murder was not done because of baptism, but because of rebellion! what was done in reformed switzerland was seen all over roman catholic and lutheran germany. it is only fair to say that the persecution was more murderous within the romanist districts; but the only lutheran prince who refused to permit a death penalty on anabaptism was philip of hesse. he was afterwards joined by the elector of saxony. in (aug. th), the archduke ferdinand of austria published an imperial mandate threatening all anabaptists with the punishment of death. two months later, two thousand copies of this proclamation were sent to the provinces of the german empire, calling on the authorities to extirpate these unfortunate people. the rulers in salzburg and in the tyrol obeyed the order at once, and a fierce persecution soon raged. the minds of the population were inflamed by infamous calumnies. it was said in salzburg that the anabaptists had planned to massacre all the priests and monks within the principality. the well-known dislike of the brethren to war was tortured into the accusation that on a turkish invasion they would side with the enemy against all loyal germans. a certain leopold dickius, who wrote an atrocious book against the anabaptists, demanded that all the men should be slain and the women and children suffered to perish from starvation; in this way only, he said, could their errors be stamped out. the salzburg chronicler, kilian leib, a romanist, gives details of the persecution. he tells us that men, women, and young maidens suffered death by fire, beheading, and drowning, not only uncomplainingly, but with solemn joy. he dwells on the case of "a beautiful young girl" of sixteen, whose gentle innocence excited universal compassion, and who utterly refused to recant. the executioner pinned her hands to her sides, plunged her head downwards into a horse trough, held her there till she was suffocated, and then took her body away to burn it. the official lists show that the victims came from all classes in society. noblemen, girdle-makers, wallet-makers, shoemakers, a town clerk, and ex-priests. the persecution in the tyrol was severe and thorough. a large number of the miners of the district were anabaptists, and it was resolved to root out the so-called heresy. descriptions were published of prominent anabaptists, who wandered from place to place encouraging their brethren to steadfastness. "one named mayerhofer has a long brown beard and wears a grey soldier's coat; a companion, tall and pale, wears a long black coat with trimming; a third is shorter; a fourth, thin and of a ruddy complexion, is known as a cutler." conrad braun, an assessor to the imperial chamber and an eye-witness to the persecutions, wrote,--"i have seen with my own eyes that nothing has been able to bring back the anabaptists from their errors or to make them recant. the hardest imprisonment, hunger, fire, water, the sword, all sorts of frightful executions, have not been able to shake them. i have seen young people, men, women, go to the stake singing, filled with joy; and i can say that in the course of my whole life nothing has moved me more."[ ] in the tyrol and görz the number of executions by the year amounted to a thousand, according to the chronicler kirchmayr. sebastian franck reckons the number in enisheim, within the government of upper austria, at six hundred. seventy-three martyrs suffered in linz within six weeks. the persecution in bavaria was particularly severe; duke william ordered that those who recanted were to be beheaded, and those who refused were to be burned. the general practice, made a law by ferdinand of austria in (april rd), was that only preachers, baptizers, baptists who refused to recant, and those who had relapsed after recantation, were to be punished with death.[ ] in these bloody persecutions, which raged over almost all europe, most of the earlier leaders of the anabaptists perished; but the great body of their followers were neither intimidated nor disposed to abjure their teaching. persecution did not come unexpectedly. no one was admitted into an anabaptist community without being warned of the probable fate which lay before him. baptism was a vow that he would be constant unto death; the "breaking of bread" strengthened his faith; the sermon was full of exhortations to endurance unto the end. their whole service of worship was a preparation for and an expectation of martyrdom. the strain of christian song seemed to rise higher with the fires of persecution. most of the anabaptist hymns belong to the time when their sufferings were greatest. some are simply histories of a martyrdom, as of jörg wagner at munich, or of the "seven brethren at germünd." they are all echoes of endurance where the notes of the sob, the trust, the warning, the hosanna of a time of martyrdom, blend in rough heroic strains. they sing of christ, who in these last days has manifested himself that the pure word of his gospel may again run through the earth as it did in the days of the early church. they tell how the arch-enemy of souls seeks to protect himself against the advancing host of jesus by exciting bloody persecutions. they utter warnings against false prophets, ravening wolves in sheep's clothing, who beset all the paths of life leading towards the true fold, who pour forth threats and curses against the people of god, and urge on the rulers of this world to torture and to slay. they depict how the evil world storms against the true church, shrieks out lies against the true followers of jesus, and threatens them with burnings and all manner of cruel deaths. they mourn that the disciples of jesus are slaughtered like sheep who have lost their shepherd; that they wander in wildernesses full of thorns that tear; that they have their homes like the night-birds among the cliffs or in the clefts of the rocks; that they are snared in the nets of the fowler; that they are hunted with hounds like the hares. others, inspired by the internal hope which lives undying in every christian heart, tell how christ the bridegroom seeks the love of the soul his bride, and how he wins her to himself by his love-gifts of trial and of suffering, till at last the marriage feast is held, and the soul becomes wholly united to her lord. the thoughts and phrases of the old hebrew prophets, of the psalmist, of the hymns of the apocalypse, which have fed the fears and the hopes of longing, suffering, trusting generations of christian people, reappear in those anabaptist hymns. life is for them a continuous holy war, a pilgrim's progress through an evil world full of snares, of dangers, of temptations, until at last the weary feet tread the delectable mountains, the river of death is passed, and the open gates of the heavenly jerusalem receive the wayfarer who has persevered to the end. these poor persecuted people naturally sought for some city of refuge, _i.e._ a municipality or district where baptism of children was not enforced under penalties, and where the rebaptism of adults was not punished by imprisonment, torture, and death. for a time they found many such asylums. the anabaptists were for the most part good workmen, and patient and provident cultivators of the soil, ready to pay all dues but the unscriptural war-tax. they were a source of wealth to many a great landed proprietor who was willing to allow them to live their lives in peace. moravia, east friesland, and, among the municipalities, augsburg, worms, and strassburg gave shelter until the slow determined pressure of the higher authorities of the empire compelled them to act otherwise. all that the anabaptists desired was to be allowed to live in peace, and we hear of no great disturbances caused by their presence in any of these "cities of refuge." this brings us to what has been called "the kingdom of god in münster," and to the behaviour of the anabaptists there--the communism, polygamy, and so forth, which are described in all histories of the times. münster was the capital of the large and important ecclesiastical principality which bears the same name. the bishop was a prince of the german empire, and ruled his principality with all the rights of a secular prince. clergy filled almost all the important posts of government; they levied taxes on imports and exports; the rich canonries of the cathedral were reserved for the sons of the landed gentry; the townspeople had no share in the richer benefices, and chafed under their clerical rulers. the citizens lived in a state of almost permanent disaffection, and their discontent had frequently taken the form of civic insurrections. they rose in , in (in which year the name of a wealthy burgher, bernardin knipperdolling, first appears as a leader of his fellow-citizens), and in , the dreadful year of famine and plague.[ ] many have been disposed to see in these _emeutes_, anticipations of the struggle which followed; but nothing in the sources warrants the conclusion. they were simply examples of the discontent of the unprivileged classes which had been common enough in germany for at least a century. the city of münster had been slow to receive the religious reformation, but in the people began to listen to the preaching of an obscure young chaplain attached to the church of st. maurice, built outside the walls of the town.[ ] bernhard rothmann was a scholar, imbued with humanist culture, gifted with the power of clear reasoning, and with natural eloquence. it is probable that he had early been attracted by the teaching of luther;[ ] but while he dwelt upon justification by faith, his sermons were full of that sympathy for the down-trodden toiling masses of the community which was a permanent note in all anabaptist teaching. his sermons were greatly appreciated by the townsfolk, especially by the artisans, who streamed out of the gate to hear the young chaplain of st. maurice. was he not one of themselves, the son of a poor smith! the cathedral canons, who, in the absence of the bishop, had the oversight of all ecclesiastical affairs, grew alarmed at his popularity. their opportunity for interference came when the mob, excited, they said, by rothmann's denunciations of relic and image worship, profaned the altars, tore the pictures, and destroyed the decorations in st. maurice on the eve of good friday, . rothmann's influence with the townsmen might have enabled him to defy the canons, especially as the prince bishop, friedrich von wied, showed no inclination to molest the chaplain, and was himself suspected of evangelical sympathies. but he quietly left the town and spent a year in travelling. he visited wittenberg, where he made the acquaintance of luther, melanchthon, and bugenhagen; went to marburg, speyer, and strassburg. at strassburg he had long intercourse with capito and with schwenkfeld the mystic, who is frequently classed with the anabaptists. an irresistible impulse seems to have drawn him back to münster, where he was welcomed by the people, and the church of st. maurice became henceforth the centre of a movement for religious reformation; the preacher was supported by the "gilds" of artisans and by most of the citizens, among whom the most noted was bernhard knipperdolling. an energetic protest by the canons induced the bishop to inhibit rothmann from preaching in st. maurice. he continued his addresses in the churchyard of st. lambert (feb. th, ), and a few days later he was placed in possession of the church itself. st. lambert's had been built by the municipality, and was the property of the town. rothmann was appointed by the town council evangelical preacher to the town, and was given one of the town's "gild" houses for a parsonage. two months later the bishop resigned, and was succeeded by duke erich of brunswick-grubenhagen, already bishop of osnabrück and paderborn. the new bishop determined to get rid of rothmann. he made representations to hesse and electoral saxony and other evangelical powers, and persuaded them to induce the more moderate of the reforming party in münster to abandon rothmann; and, this done, the preacher was ordered to leave the city. the "gilds" of artisans refused to let their preacher depart, and, under the leadership of knipperdolling,[ ] drafted a letter to the authorities declaring their determination to retain him at all hazards. the democracy of münster and the religious movement for the first time openly combined against the authorities of the city. while things were at this pass, the bishop died (may th, ). the chapter elected (june st) count franz von waldeck, already in possession of minden, and made bishop of osnabrück a few days later (june th)--a pluralist of the first rank. the reforming party in münster expected the worst from their new ruler. a full assembly of the "gilds" of the town was held, and by an overwhelming majority the members pledged themselves to defend their pastor and his gospel with body and goods while life lasted. a committee of thirty-six burghers was elected to watch the course of events and to take counsel with the civic rulers and the presidents of the "gilds." rothmann published _theses_ explaining his teaching, and challenging objectors to a public disputation. public meetings were held; the town council was formally requested to hand over all the parochial churches to evangelical preachers; which was done--the cathedral alone remaining for roman catholic worship. these proceedings produced unavailing remonstrances from the bishop. the nobles in the neighbourhood tried to interfere, but to no purpose. in october ( ) the bishop's party within the town began to take action. they attempted to sequester the goods of the more prominent disaffected citizens; chains were placed across the principal streets to prevent communication between the different quarters; an attempt was made to isolate the town itself. these things meant war. the "gilds," always a military organisation in mediæval cities, armed. a party of knights sent to invade the town retired before the armed citizens. while the bishop sought to strengthen himself by alliances and to beguile the townsmen by negotiation, a thousand armed burghers marched by night to the little township of telgte, where a large number of the ecclesiastical and secular nobles were encamped, surrounded it, captured the bishop's partisans, and returned to hold them as hostages. this act afforded the occasion for the intervention of philip of hesse. an arrangement was come to by which münster was declared to be an evangelical city and enrolled within the schmalkald league. the history of münster up to this time (feb. th, ) did not differ from that of many towns which had adopted the reformation. rothmann had been the leader in münster, like brenz in hall, alber in reutlingen, or lachmann at heilbron. it is usually assumed that up to this time rothmann was a lutheran in his teaching, that he had won münster for the great lutheran party, and that his future aberrations from the evangelical theology were due to his weakness before the anabaptist mob who later invaded the city. this seems to be a mere assumption. he had certainly taught justification by faith; but that did not make him a lutheran. the dividing line between the various classes of objectors to the roman catholic theology in the sixteenth century was drawn at the meaning of the sacraments, and especially of the lord's supper. there is absolutely no evidence to show that rothmann was ever a follower of luther in his theory of the holy supper. he had visited luther and melanchthon during his year of absence from münster, but they had never been quite sure of him. he has confessed that it was at strassburg and not at wittenberg that he got most help for his future work and received it from capito, who was no lutheran, and from schwenkfeld, who was an anabaptist mystic. it was strassburg and not wittenberg that he called "the crown of all christian cities and churches!" in his confession of faith he says that the mass is no sacrifice, but only a sign of the true sacrifice; and that the mass and the lord's supper have _no other meaning_ than to remind us of the death of christ, and to awaken in our hearts a certainty of the freely given grace of god. that is not lutheran doctrine, it is not even zwinglian; it is much nearer the anabaptist. it is also pretty clear that he held the doctrine of the "inner light" in the sense of many anabaptists. it may be safely said that if rothmann was not an anabaptist from the beginning, his was a mind prepared to accept their doctrines almost as soon as they were clearly presented to him. heinrich roll, a fugitive from jülich who sought refuge in münster, convinced rothmann of the unlawfulness of infant baptism. no sooner had this conviction laid hold on him than he refused to baptize infants--for rothmann was always straightforward. his views annoyed a large number of the leading citizens, prominent among whom was van der wieck, the syndic of the town. these men, all lutherans, besieged their pastor with remonstrances, and finally brought him before the town council. the matter came to a head on sept. th ( ), when staprade, the assistant preacher at st. lambert's, refused to baptize the children of two lutheran members of the town council who had been brought to the church for the purpose. when the preachers were brought before the council, they were informed that such things would not be allowed. staprade, the chief offender and a non-burgher, was banished, and rothmann with the other clergy who agreed with him were threatened with the same fate if they persisted in declining to baptize infants. they refused to obey the council; they were promptly deposed, and their churches were closed against them. but the mass of the citizens were attached to rothmann, and their attitude became too threatening for the magistrates to maintain their uncompromising position. rothmann was permitted to remain, and was allowed to preach in the church of st. servatius. the lutheran magistrates brought preachers into the town to occupy the other places of worship. the magistrates, van der wieck being the leading spirit among them, resolved to hold a public disputation on the subject of baptism. they had brought to münster the famous humanist, hermann von dem busche, now a professor in marburg and a distinguished defender of the lutheran reformation, and they counted on his known learning and eloquence to convince their fellow-citizens that the views of rothmann were unscriptural. the conference was to be perfectly free. roman catholic theologians were invited, and took part. rothmann appeared to defend his position. the invitations had been signed not only by the magistrates, but by the heads of the "gilds" of the town.[ ] van der wieck confessed that the result of the disputation was not what he expected. so far as the great mass of the people were concerned, rothmann appeared to have the best of the argument, and he stood higher than ever in the estimation of the citizens. rothmann, whose whole career shows that opposition made him more and more advanced, now began to dwell upon the wrongs of the commonalty and the duty of the rich to do much more for their poorer brethren than they did. he taught by precept as well as example. he lived an openly ascetic life, that he might abound in charity. his sermons and his life had an extraordinary effect on the rich as well as on the poor. creditors forgave debtors, men placed sums of money in the hands of rothmann for distribution. there was no enforced communism, but the example of primitive church in jerusalem was followed as far as possible. among these thoroughgoing followers of rothmann, a wealthy lady, the mother-in-law of bernardin knipperdolling, was conspicuous. the magistrates became seriously alarmed at the condition of things. they knew that so long as they remained a lutheran municipality, even nominally, the great lutheran princes, like philip of hesse and the elector of saxony, would protect them against their romanist bishop; but lutherans and romanists alike disliked and distrusted anabaptists, and the imperial edict would surely be enforced against them sooner or later. rothmann's preaching, which they could not control, and the power he exercised through the "gilds," made it impossible for them to maintain that münster was a member of the confederacy of lutheran cities. on the other hand, the news that münster had practically become anabaptist, spread far and wide among these persecuted people, who began to think that it was destined to be a conspicuous city of refuge, perhaps the zion or new jerusalem whose establishment melchior hoffman had predicted. they gathered from all parts to place themselves under the protection of its walls. the great majority naturally came from the netherlands, where the persecution was hottest. the refugees were almost all _melchiorites_--men who looked for a speedy termination of their sufferings in the establishment of the kingdom of god upon the earth; and the majority of them were dutch _melchiorites_, men to whom freedom was a tradition, ready to fight for it, disciples of jan matthys, who had taught them to abandon the doctrine of passive resistance so universally held by all sections of the earlier anabaptists.[ ] rothmann had long been acquainted with the books and tracts of hoffman, and had great sympathy with them. he as well as the magistrates foresaw trouble for himself and for the city. he went the length of advising friends who did not share his opinions to leave the town; for himself, his manifest duty appeared to be to risk all on behalf of the poor people whom god had given into his hand. the last months of saw rothmann and the lutheran town council facing each other with growing mutual suspicion. on dec. th, a journeyman smith, johann schröder, began preaching anabaptist doctrines in the churchyard of st. lambert's, and challenged the lutheran pastor, fabricius, to a disputation. this was more than the town council could endure. they prohibited rothmann preaching, and declared that they withdrew their protection--a sentence of virtual outlawry (dec. th). he calmly told the messenger of the council that he depended on the help of higher powers than his masters, and preached publicly in the church of st. servatius. schröder had begun to preach again, and was apprehended. the "gild" of the smiths rose, and, headed by their officials, forced the council to release their comrade. the anabaptists and rothmann had won a notable triumph, which was soon widely known. banished anabaptist pastors returned to the town. events marched quickly thereafter. bartholomaeus boekbinder and willem de kuiper, sent by jan matthys, appeared in münster (jan. th, ). we can infer what their message was from what followed. rothmann denounced the council and its lutheran preachers. riots were the consequence, many of the rioters being women, among whom the nuns of the Überwasser convent were conspicuous. it was declared that all believers ought to be rebaptized, and that a list of the faithful ought to be made. the document contained fourteen hundred names within eight days. the mass of the people enthusiastically believed in the near approach of the day of the lord. soon afterwards (jan. th, ), jan bockelson (john of leyden) entered the town. he was the favourite disciple and _alter ego_ of jan matthys. he brought with him the famous twenty-one articles, and called upon the faithful to unite themselves into a compact organisation pledged to carry them out. he was received with enthusiasm. the council, feeling their helplessness, appealed to the bishop, who contented himself with ordering them to execute the imperial mandate against anabaptists. he was as much incensed against the lutherans as against the anabaptists, and hoped that the two parties would destroy themselves. within the town, anabaptists fought with the combined evangelicals and romanists, and on two occasions the tumults were succeeded by truces which guaranteed full liberty of worship to all persons (jan. th and feb. th). then the council abandoned the struggle. the principal burgomaster, tylbeck, was baptized, and van der wieck, with many of the principal citizens, left the town. van der wieck fell into the hands of the bishop, who slaughtered him barbarously. a new council, entirely anabaptist, was elected, with bernardin knipperdolling and gerhard kibbenbroick, a leading merchant, as burgomasters (feb. th). the complete rule of the anabaptists had begun. this date also marks the beginning of the investment of the city by the bishop's troops. it should never be forgotten, as it frequently is, that during the _whole_ period of anabaptist domination in münster the town was undergoing the perils of a siege, and that military considerations _had_ to be largely kept in mind. nor should it be forgotten that during its existence the bishop's troops were murdering in cold blood every anabaptist they could lay their hands on. jan matthys himself had come to münster some time in february, urged thereto by a letter from bockelson, and the citizens had become accustomed to see the long lean figure of the prophet, with his piercing eyes and flowing black beard, pass to and fro in their streets. they had learned to hang breathless on his words as his sonorous voice repeated the message which the lord had given him to utter, or described the visions which had been vouchsafed to him. when an anabaptist council ruled the city they were but the mouthpiece of the prophet. his reign was brief, but while it lasted he issued command after command. separation from the world was one of the ideas he dwelt upon in his addresses; and to him this meant that no unbelievers, no unbaptized, could remain within the walls of an anabaptist city. the command went forth that all adults must be baptized or leave the town. it is scarcely to be wondered that, with the great likelihood of falling into the hands of the bishop's soldiers as soon as they got beyond the walls, the great majority of those who had not yet received the seal of the new communion submitted to the ceremony. they were marched to the market-place, where they found "three or more" anabaptist preachers, each with a great vessel full of water before them. the neophytes knelt down, received the usual admonition, and a dish of water was thrice emptied on their heads in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost. this done, they went to the burgomaster's house and had their names entered on the roll.[ ] it was also by matthys' orders that what is called the communism of münster was begun. the duty of systematic and brotherly charity had from the first been an outstanding one among the anabaptists. like all other principles which find immediate outcome in action, this one of brotherly love had found many ways of taking actual shape. in a few of the smaller sections of the brethren it had appeared in the form of communism so far as food and raiment went. in some of the communities in moravia the brethren subscribed to a common fund out of which common meals were provided; and these payments were compulsory. we have seen how rothmann's sermons had produced an extraordinary outburst of benevolence in münster before the coming of the prophets. it does not appear that matthys' commands went further than the exhortations of rothmann. münster was a beleaguered city. when the siege began it contained about seventeen hundred men, between five and six thousand women, besides thousands of children. the largest proportion of these were refugees. it is evident that numbers could not support themselves, but were absolutely dependent upon the charity of their neighbours. the preachers invited the faithful to give up their money, and what provisions they could spare to feed the poverty striken. large numbers thus appealed to brought all their portable property; others gave part; some refused, and were denounced publicly. the provisions stored in the monasteries or in private houses abandoned by their proprietors--were taken for the common good. when the siege had lasted long, and the enemy were deliberately starving the inhabitants into surrender, the communism in food became stricter, as is the case in any beleaguered fortress. no attempt was ever made to institute a thoroughgoing communism. what existed at first was simply an abundant christian charity enforced by public opinion,[ ] and latterly a requisitioning of everything that could be used to support the whole population of a besieged city. jan matthys did not long survive his coming to münster. on the evening of the th of april, as he sat at supper in a friend's house, he was observed to spend long minutes in brooding. at last, sighing heavily, he was heard to ejaculate, "loved father, not my will but thine be done." he rose quietly from his seat, shook hands with all his companions, solemnly kissed each one; then left the house in silence, accompanied by his wife. next day with about twenty companions he went out by one of the gates of the city, fell fiercely on the enemy, was overpowered by numbers, and received his death-stroke. a religious enthusiast and a singularly straightforward and courageous man! his death depressed the defenders of münster greatly; but they were rallied by the persuasive eloquence of jan bockelson, the favourite disciple of the dead prophet. it was under the leadership of bockelson--jan of leyden he was called--that the town council of münster was abolished; that twelve elders were chosen to rule the people; that jan himself became king, and had his court; that the old miracle plays were revived, etc. the only one of the many actions of this highly talented and eloquent young dutchman which need concern us was the institution of polygamy, for which he seems to have been almost solely responsible. polygamy is the one dark stain on the anabaptists of münster, and one that is ineffaceable. not unnaturally, yet quite unjustly, the fact of its institution has been used continually to blacken the character of the whole movement. it was an episode, a lamentable one, in the history of anabaptism in münster; it had nothing to do with the brethren outside the town. the whole question presents difficulties which, with our present information, cannot be removed. that men whose whole past lives had been examples of the most correct moral behaviour, and who had been influenced by deep and earnest religious feelings, should suddenly (for it was sudden) have given the lie to their own previous teaching and to the tenets of every separate section of anabaptism, that they should have sullied the last few months of an heroic and desperate defence within a doomed city by the institution of polygamy, is an insoluble puzzle.[ ] we are not now dependent for our knowledge of the anabaptist movement on the writings of embittered opponents, or upon such tainted sources as confessions of martyrs wrung from them under torture. the diligence of archæologists has exhumed a long list of writings of the leaders in the rising. they give us trustworthy accounts of the opinions and teachings of almost every sect classed under the common name. we know what they thought about all the more important matters which were in controversy during the sixteenth century--what they taught about free will, original sin, justification, the trinity, the person of christ, and so on. we have clear glimpses of the kind of lives they led--a genuinely pious, self-denying, christian walk and conversation. their teaching was often at variance with the romanist and the lutheran doctrinal confessions; but they never varied from the moral life which all christians are called upon to live. their writings seldom refer to marriage; but when they do it is always to bear witness to the universal and deeply rooted christian sentiment that marriage is a sacred and unbreakable union of one man with one woman. nay more, one document has descended to us which bears testimony to the teaching of the anabaptists within the beleaguered city only a few weeks before the proclamation of polygamy. it is entitled _bekentones des globens und lebens der gemein criste zu monster_,[ ] and was meant to be an answer to calumnies circulated by their enemies. it contains a paragraph on marriage which is a clear and distinct assertion that the only christian marriage is the unbreakable union of one man with one woman.[ ] it is true that the anabaptist thought of "separation," when carried out in its most extreme way and to its utmost logical consequences, struck a blow at the sanctity of the marriage tie. all taught that the "believer," _i.e._ he or she who had been rebaptized, ought to keep themselves separate from the "world," _i.e._ those who had not submitted to rebaptism; and in the more extreme sects it was alleged that this meant that spouses ought not to cohabit with "unbelieving" partners. this was held and practised among the _melchiorites_, and was stated in its extremest form in the twenty-one rules sent to münster by jan matthys by the hand of bockelson. they contained two prescriptions--one for the unmarried, which exhorted them only to marry in the lord; another for the married, which implies that marriage contracted between husband and wife before rebaptism ought to be repeated. this meant that marriages contracted by persons yet "in the world" were not valid, and, of course, destroyed the sanctity of all marriages outside the circle of the brethren. but when a _melchiorite_ at strassburg, klaus frey, whose wife was not an anabaptist, carried out the principle to its logical consequences and married an anabaptist woman, his "unbelieving" wife being alive, he was promptly excommunicated. when the information to be gathered from the various sources is combined, what took place in münster seems to have been as follows. sometime in july ( ), john bockelson summoned the preachers, rothmann at their head, and the twelve elders to meet him in the _rathaus_. there he propounded to them his proposal to inaugurate polygamy, and argued the matter with them for eight successive days. we are told that rothmann and the preachers opposed the scheme in a determined manner. the arguments used by the prophet--arguments of the flimsiest nature--have also been recorded. he dwelt on the necessity of accepting certain biblical expressions in their most literal sense, and in giving them their widest application. he insisted especially on the command of god, _be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth_; he brought forward the example of the patriarchs and other examples of polygamy from the old testament; he went the length of saying that when st. paul insisted that bishops must be husbands of one wife, the phrase implied that all who were not bishops were free to take more than one; he dwelt on the special conditions existing among the population within the town,--the number of male refugees, either unmarried or who had left their wives behind them in the places from which they had fled; the disproportionate number of women (more than three women for every man),--and the difficulties thereby created to prevent them from obeying the command of god to be fruitful and increase; and he urged that in their present condition the command of god could only be obeyed by means of polygamy. in the end he brought preachers and elders round to his opinion; and in spite of opportunities given them for revolt, they remained steadfast to it. they preached upon its advantages for three days to the people in the cathedral square; and it was rothmann who proclaimed the decree commanding polygamy to the people. how were the preachers persuaded to forego their opposition? what one of the threadbare arguments used by the prophet convinced them? had he proclaimed polygamy as a divine command received by him as a prophet, we might imagine the preachers and people, such was the exalted state of their minds, receiving it with reverence; but the prophet did not announce that he had received any such message. he relied solely upon his arguments. they did not convince all the people. the proclamation of polygamy awoke violent protests upon the part of the native townsmen, who, headed by a "master-smith" named möllenbecke, felt that they would rather hand over the city to the bishop's forces than live in a polygamist society, and the revolt was almost successful; but the preachers stood firm in their support of the prophet and of his polygamy; and it was the women who were mainly instrumental in causing the revolt to be a failure. if we are to judge by the use made of it in rothmann's _restitution_,[ ] which defends the introduction of the new marriage laws, the preachers seem to have been most impressed by the argument which dwelt on the condition of the city--the large proportion of men whose wives were in the towns they had abandoned to take refuge in münster, and the great multitude of women. it is just possible that it was this economic argument that affected both them and the prophet himself. this is the view taken by such writers as kautsky, belfort bax, and heath. the explanation is confirmed by the fact that the decree was more than a proclamation of polygamy. it provided that _all_ marriageable men must take wives, and that _all_ women must be under the care of a husband. the laws against sexual irregularity were as strong during the reign of polygamy as before its introduction. but there is this to be said against it, that the town of münster, notwithstanding its abnormal conditions, was singularly pure in life, and that polygamy, so far from improving the moral condition, made it distinctly worse. detmer, whose opinions are always worthy of respect, believes than jan of leyden had fallen violently in love with the young, beautiful, and intellectual divara, the widow of jan matthys, and that, as he could not marry her apart from polygamy, he persuaded his preachers and elders to consent to his proposals. his wonderful magnetic influence overbore their better judgment. what is evident is that the decree of polygamy was suddenly conceived and forced upon the people. if jan of leyden[ ] took no share in its proclamation, he set the people an example of obedience. he promptly married divara as soon as it was lawful to do so. he used the ordinance to strengthen his position. his other wives--he had sixteen in all--were the daughters or near relations of the leaders in münster. there is evidence to show that his own character deteriorated rapidly under the new conditions of life. the siege of münster went on during all these months. the bishop's soldiers attempted several assaults, and were always beaten back. they seem latterly to have relied on the power of hunger. the sufferings of the citizens during the later weeks were terrible. at length heinrich gresbeck, deserting to the besiegers' camp, offered to betray the city to its enemies. he showed them, by plans and models in clay, how to get through the defences, and himself prepared the way for the bishop's soldiers to enter. the anabaptists gathered for one last desperate defence in the market-place, under the leadership of bernardin knipperdolling and bernard krechting, with rothmann by their side. when the band was reduced to three hundred men, they capitulated on promise of safe-conduct to leave the town. it is needless to say that the bargain was not kept. rothmann was believed to have perished in the market-place. the city was given over to pillage, and the streets were soon strewn with dead bodies. then a court was established to try the anabaptist prisoners. the first woman to suffer was the fair young divara. she steadfastly refused to abjure, and met her fate in her own queenly way. no man who had been in any way prominent during the siege was allowed to escape death. jan bockelson, bernardin knipperdolling, and bernard krechting were reserved to suffer the most terrible tortures that the diabolical ingenuity of mediæval executioners could devise. it was long believed that rothmann had escaped, and that he had got away to rostock or to lübeck; more than one person was arrested on the suspicion of being the famous preacher of münster--"a short, dark man, with straight brown hair," was his description in the lübeck handbills. the horrible fate of münster did not destroy the indomitable anabaptists. menno simons (b. or at witmarsum, a village near franecker), "a man of integrity, mild, accommodating, patient of injuries, and so ardent in his piety as to exemplify in his own life the precepts he gave to others," spent twenty-five laborious years in visiting the scattered anabaptist communities and uniting them in a simple brotherly association. he purged their minds of the apocalyptic fancies taught by many of their later leaders under the influence of persecution, inculcated the old ideas of non-resistance, of the evils of state control over the church, of the need of personal conversion, and of adult baptism as its sign and seal. from his labours have come all the modern baptist churches. chapter iii. socinianism.[ ] the fathers of the socinian church were the two sozzini, uncle and nephew, lelio and fausto, both natives of the town of siena. the uncle, lelio sozzini (b. ), was by profession a lawyer. he was a man of irreproachable moral life, a humanist by training, a student of the classics and also of theology. he was thoroughly dissatisfied with the condition of the romish church, and early began to entertain grave doubts about some of its leading doctrinal positions. he communicated his views to a select circle of friends. notwithstanding the precautions he had taken, he became suspected. cardinal caraffa had persuaded pope paul iii. to consent to the reorganisation of the inquisition in , and italy soon became a very unsafe place for any suspected person. lelio left siena in , and spent the remaining portion of his life in travelling in those lands which had accepted the lutheran or the reformed faith. he made the acquaintance of all the leading protestant theologians, including melanchthon and calvin. he kept up an extensive correspondence with them, representing his own personal theological opinions in the form of questions which he desired to have solved for him. from calvin's letters we can learn that the great theologian had grave doubts about the moral earnestness of his italian correspondent, and repeatedly warned him that he was losing hold on the saving facts of heart religion. all the while sozzini seems to have made up his mind already on all the topics introduced into his correspondence, and to have been communicating his views, on pledge of secrecy, to the small communities of italian refugees who were settled in switzerland. he can scarcely be blamed for this secretiveness; toleration, as the sad example of the burning of servede had shown, was not recognised to be a christian principle among the churches of the reformation. lelio died at zurich in without having published his opinions, and without his neighbours and hosts being aware of his real theological position. he bequeathed all his property, including his books and his manuscripts, to his nephew, fausto, who had remained at siena. this nephew was the founder of the socinian church. fausto sozzini (b. ) was, like his uncle, a man of irreproachable life, a lawyer, a diligent and earnest student, fond of theology, and of great force of character. how early he had come to think as his uncle had done, is unknown. report affirms that after he had received his uncle's books and papers, and had given sufficient time to their study, he left italy, visited the places where lelio had gathered small companies of secret sympathisers, to confirm them in the faith. his uncle had visited poland twice, and fausto went there in . he found that the anti-trinitarians there had no need to conceal their opinions. the transylvanian prince, stephen báthory, protected them, and they had in the town of krakau their own church, school, and printing-press. but the sect as a whole was torn by internal divisions. fausto bent his whole energies to overcome these differences. before his arrival in poland he had published two books, which are interesting because they show the pathway by which fausto arrived at his theological conclusions. he started not with the doctrines of the trinity or of the person of christ, but with the doctrine of the atonement--a fact to be kept in mind when the whole socinian system of theology is examined. he believed that the real cause of the divisions which wasted the sect was that the polish unitarians were largely anabaptists. they insisted that no one could be a recognised member of the community unless he was rebaptized. they refused to enroll fausto sozzini himself, and excluded him from the sacrament of the supper, because he would not submit to rebaptism. they declared that no member of their communities could enter the magistracy, or sue in a civil court, or pay a war tax. they disagreed on many small points of doctrine, and used the ban very freely against each other. sozzini saw that he could not hope to make any progress in his attempts to unite the unitarians unless he was able to purge out this anabaptist leaven. his troubles can be seen in his correspondence, and in some of his smaller tracts in the first volume of the _bibliotheca fratrum polonorum_.[ ] in spite of the rebuffs he met with, he devoted all his energies to the thankless task of furthering union, and in the end of his days he had the satisfaction of seeing that he had not laboured in vain. shortly before his death, a synod held at krakau ( ) declared that rebaptism was not necessary for entrance into a unitarian community. many of the lesser differences had been got rid of earlier. the literary activity of sozzini was enormous: books and pamphlets flowed from his untiring pen, all devoted to the enforcing or explaining the socinian theology. it is not too much to say that the inner history of the unitarian communities in poland from until his death in is contained in his voluminous correspondence. the united unitarians of poland took the name of the _polish brethren_; and from this society what was known as socinian theology spread through germany (especially the rhineland), switzerland, and england. its principles were not formulated in a creed until , when the _racovian catechism_ was published. it was never formally declared to be the standard of the unitarian church, but its statements are universally held to represent the views of the older socinians. socinianism, unlike the great religious movement under the guidance of luther, had its distinct and definite beginning in a criticism of doctrines, and this must never be forgotten if its true character is to be understood. we have already seen[ ] that there is no trace of any intellectual difficulties about doctrines or statement of doctrines in luther's mind during the supreme crisis in his spiritual history. its whole course, from the time he entered the erfurt convent down to the publication of the augsburg confession, shows that the spiritual revolt of which he was the soul and centre took its rise from something much deeper than any mere criticism of the doctrines of the mediæval church, and that it resulted in something very much greater than a reconstruction of doctrinal conceptions. the central thing about the protestant reformation was that it meant a rediscovery of religion as _faith_, "as a relation between person and person, higher therefore, than all reason, and living not upon commands and hopes, but on the power of god, and apprehending in jesus christ the lord of heaven and earth as father."[ ] the reformation started from this living experience of the believing christian, which it proclaimed to be the one fundamental fact in christianity--something which could never be proved by argument, and could never be dissolved away by speculation. on the contrary, the earliest glimpse that we have of lelio sozzini is his meeting with friends to discuss and cast doubts upon such doctrines as the satisfaction of christ, the trinity, and others like them.[ ] socinianism maintained to the end the character with which it came into being. it was from first to last a criticism and attempted reconstruction of doctrines. this is sufficient of itself to discount the usual accounts which romanist controversialists give of the socinian movement, and of its relation to the protestant reformation. they, and many anglicans who have no sympathy with the great reformation movement, are accustomed to say that the socinian system of doctrines is the legitimate deduction from the principles of the reformation, and courageously carries out the rationalist conceptions lurking in all protestant theology. they point to the fact that many of the early presbyterians of england and puritans of america have furnished a large number of recruits to the unitarian or socinian ranks. they assert that the central point in the socinian theology is the denial of the divinity of our lord, which they allege is the logical outcome of refusing to accept the romanist doctrine of the mass and the principle of ecclesiastical tradition. the question is purely historical, and can only be answered by examining the sources of socinian theology and tracing it to its roots. the result of such an examination seems to show that, while socinianism did undoubtedly owe much to humanism, and to the spirit of critical inquiry and keen sense of the value of the individual which it fostered, most of its distinguishing theological conceptions are mediæval. it laid hold on the leading principles of the scotist-pelagian theology, which were extremely popular in the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries, and carried them out to their logical consequences. in fact, most of the theological principles of socinian theology are more akin to those of the jesuit dogmatic-which is the prolongation of scotism into modern times--than they are to the theology of luther or of calvin. it is, of course, to be remembered that by discarding the authority of the church the socinians are widely separated from both scotists and jesuits. still the roots of socinian theology are to be found in the scotist doctrines of god and of the atonement, and these two doctrines are their starting-point, and not the mere negation of the divinity of christ. in three most important conceptions the socinian thought is distinctly mediæval, and mediæval in the scotist way. their idea of _faith_ is intellectual. it is _assensus_ and not _fiducia_. "in scripture," says the racovian catechism, "the _faith_ is most perfectly _taught_, that god exists and that he recompenses. this, however, and nothing else, is the faith that is to be directed to god and christ." it is afterwards described as the way in which one must adjust himself to the known commands and promises of god; and there is added that this faith "both makes our obedience more acceptable and well-pleasing to god, and supplies the defects of our obedience, provided it be sincere and earnest, and brings it about that we are justified by god." this is good scotist doctrine. these theologians were accustomed to declare that all that the christian needs is to have faith in god as the recompenser (_i.e._ to assent to the truth that god does recompense), and that with regard to all the other doctrines of the church implicit faith (_i.e._ submission to the church's teaching) is enough. of course the extreme individualism of the socinians coloured their conception of faith; they cannot accept an implicit faith; their assent to truth must always be explicit; what they assent to must recommend itself to their individual reason. they cannot assent to a round of truths which are presented to them by the church, and receive them implicitly on the principle of obedience to authority. but what is to be observed here is that the socinian type of faith is always assent to truths which can be stated in propositional form; they have no idea of that faith which, to use luther's phrase, throws itself upon god. they further declare, quite in accordance with scotist teaching, that men are justified because of their _actual_ obedience to the _known_ commands and promises of god. there is not a trace of the evangelical attitude. the accordance with scotist theology descends to very minute particulars, did space permit to trace it. the socinian conception of _scripture_ corresponds to their idea of faith. the two thoughts of scripture and saving faith, as has been already said,[ ] always correspond in mediæval theology they are primarily intellectual and propositional; in reformation thinking they are, in the first instance, experimental and personal. the socinian conception allies itself with the mediæval, and discards the reformation way of regarding both faith and scripture. with the socinians as with mediæval theologians, scripture is the divine source of information about doctrines and morals; they have no idea of scripture as a means of grace, as the channel of a personal communion between god and his trusting people. but here as elsewhere the new individualism of the socinians compels them to establish both the authority and the dogmatic contents of scripture in a way different from their mediæval predecessors. they had rejected altogether the authority of the church, and they could not make use of the thought to warrant either the authority of scripture or a correct interpretation of its contents. in the place of it they put what they called _reason_. "the use of right reason (_rectæ rationis_) is great in things which pertain to salvation, since without it, it is impossible either to grasp with certainty the authority of scripture, or to understand those things that are contained in it, or to deduce some things from other things, or, finally, to recall them to put them to use (_ad usum revocari_)." the _certitudo sacrarum litterarum_ is accordingly established, or attempted to be proved, by a series of external proofs which appeal to the ordinary reasoning faculties of man. the reformation conception of the witness of the spirit, an essential part of its doctrine of scripture, finds no place in socinian theology. they try to establish the authority of scripture without any appeal to faith; the confessions of the reformation do not recognise any infallibility or divine authority which is otherwise apprehended than by faith. the reformation and the socinian doctrines are miles apart; but the socinian and the mediæval approach each other closely. it is somewhat difficult to know what books the older socinians recognise as their rule of faith. they did not accept the canon of the mediæval church. they had no difficulty about the new testament; but the references to the old testament in the racovian catechism are very slight: its authority is guaranteed for them by the references to it in the new testament. when we turn to the socinian statements about _god_, and to their assertions about the _nature and meaning of the work of christ_, we find the clearest proof of their mediæval origin. the scotist theology is simply reproduced, and cleared of its limitations. a fundamental conception of god lay at the basis of the whole scotist theology. god, it maintained, could best be defined as _dominium absolutum_; man as set over against god they described as an individual free will. if god be conceived as simply _dominium absolutum_, we can never affirm that god _must_ act in any given way; we may not even say that he is bound to act according to moral considerations. he is high above all considerations of any kind. he does not will to act in any way because it is right; and action is right because god wills to act in that way. there can be neither metaphysical nor moral necessity in any of god's actions or purposes. this scotist idea, that god is the absolutely arbitrary one, is expressed in the strongest language in the racovian catechism. "it belongs to the nature of god that he has the right and supreme power to decree whatsoever he wills concerning all things and concerning us, even in those matters with which no other power has to do; for example, he can give laws, and appoint rewards and penalties according to his own judgment, to our thoughts, hidden as these may be in the innermost recesses of our hearts." if this thought, that god is simply _dominium absolutum_, be applied to explain the nature and meaning of the work of christ, of the atonement, it follows at once that there can be no real necessity for that work; for all necessity, metaphysical or moral, is derogatory to the _dominium absolutum_, which is god. if the atonement has merit in it, that is only because god has announced that he means to accept the work of christ as meritorious, and that he will therefore free men from the burden of sin on account of what christ, the saviour, has done. it is the announced _acceptation_ of god which makes the work of christ meritorious. a _meritorious_ work has nothing in its nature which makes it so. to be meritorious simply means that the work so described will be followed by god's doing something in return for its being done, and this only because god has made this announcement. god could have freed men from the guilt and punishment due for sin without the work of christ; he could have appointed a human mediator if he had so willed it; he might have pardoned and accepted man as righteous in his sight without any mediator at all. he could have simply pardoned man without anything coming between his act of pardon and man's sin. this being the case, the scotist theologians argued that it might seem that the work of christ, called the atonement, was entirely superfluous; it is, indeed, superfluous as far as reason is concerned; it can never be justified on rational grounds. but, according to the dogmatic tradition of the church, confirmed by the circle of the sacraments, god has selected this mode of getting rid of the sin and guilt of man. he has announced that he will _accept_ this work of christ, atonement, and therefore the scotist theologians declared the atonement must be believed in and seen to be the divinely appointed way of salvation. erasmus satirised the long arguments and hypotheses of the scotist theologians when he enumerated among the questions which were highly interesting to them: "could god have taken the form of a woman, a devil, an ass, a gourd, or a stone? how could a gourd have preached, done miracles, hung on the cross?"[ ] it is manifest that this idea of _dominium absolutum_ is simply the conception of the extremest individualism applied to god instead of being used to describe man. if we treat it anthropomorphically, it comes to this, that the relation of god to man is that of an infinite individual will set over against a number of finite individual wills. if this view be taken of the relations between god and man, then god can never be thought of as the moral ruler in a moral commonwealth, but only as a private individual face to face with other individuals; and the relations between god and man must be discussed from the standpoint of private and not of public law. when wrong-doing is regarded under the scheme of public law, the ruler can never treat it as an injury done to himself, and which he can forgive because he is of a kindly nature; he must consider it an offence against the whole community of which he is the public guardian. on the other hand, when offences are considered under a scheme of private law, they are simply wrongs done to a private person who, as an individual, may forgive what is merely a debt due to himself. in such a case the wrong-doer may be forgiven without infringing any general moral principle. the socinians, following the mediæval scotist theologians, invariably applied the principles of private law to the relations between god and man. god, the _dominium absolutum_, the supreme arbitrary will, was never regarded as the moral ruler in a moral commonwealth where subjects and rulers are constrained by the same moral laws. sins are simply private debts due by the individual finite wills to the one infinite will. from such premises the scotists deduced the conclusion that the atonement was unnecessary; there they stopped; they could not say that there was no such thing as atonement, for the dogmatic tradition of the church prevented them. the socinians had thrown overboard the thought of a dogmatic tradition which had to be respected even when it appeared to be irrational. if the atonement was not necessary, that meant to them that it did not exist; they simply carried out the theological premises of the scotist-pelagian mediæval theologians to their legitimate consequences. in these three important conceptions--faith, scripture, the nature of god, involving the character of his relations to man--the socinians belong to a mediæval school of thought, and have no sympathy whatever with the general principles which inspired reformation theological thinking. but the socinians were not exclusively mediæval; they owed much to the renaissance. this appears in a very marked manner in the way in which they conceived the very important religious conception of the _church_. it is a characteristic of socinian theology, that the individual believer is considered without much, if any, reference to the church or community of the saved. this separates the socinians not only from mediæval christians, but from all who belonged to the great protestant evangelical movement. the mediæval church always regarded itself, and taught men to look to it, as a religious community which came logically and really before the individual believer. it presented itself to men as a great society founded on a dogmatic tradition, possessing the sacraments, and governed by an officially holy caste. the pious layman of the middle ages found himself within it as he might have done within one of its great cathedrals. the dogmatic tradition did not trouble him much, nor did the worldliness and insincerity often manifested by its official guardians. what they required of him was implicit faith, which really meant a decorous external obedience. that once rendered, he was comparatively free to worship within what was for him a great house of prayer. the hymns, the prayers, many of the sermons of the mediæval church, make us feel that the institution was for the mediæval christian the visible symbol of a wide purpose of god, which embraced his individual life and guaranteed a repose which he could use in resting on the promises of god. the records of mediæval piety continually show us that the church was etherealised into an assured and historical fellowship of believers into which the individual entered, and within which he found the assuring sense of fellowship. he left all else to the professional guardians of this ecclesiastical edifice. probably such are the unspoken thoughts of thousands of devout men and women in the roman and greek communions to-day. they value the church because it represents to them in a visible and historical way a fellowship with christ and his saints which is the result of his redeeming work. this thought is as deeply rooted in reformation as in mediæval piety. the reformers felt compelled to protest against the political form which the mediæval church had assumed. they conceived that to be a degradation from its ideal. they saw the manifold abuses which the degradation had given rise to. but they always regarded visible christendom as a religious community called into being by the work of christ. they had always before them the thought of the church of christ as the fellowship which logically and really comes _before_ the individual believer, the society into which the believer is brought; and this conception stood with them in close and reciprocal connection with the thought that jesus, by his work of atonement, had reconciled men with god, had founded the church on that work of his, and, _within_ it had opened for sinners the way to god. they protested against the political form which the church had assumed; they never ceased to cling to the thought of the catholic church visible which is founded on the redeeming work of christ, and within which man finds the way of salvation. they described this church in all their creeds and testimonies; they gave the marks which characterised it and manifested its divine origin; the thought was an essential part of their theology. the socinians never felt the need of any such conception. jesus was for them only the teacher of a superior kind of morality detailed in the commands and promises of god; they looked to him for that guidance and impulse towards a moral self-culture which each man can appropriate for himself without first coming into a society which is the fellowship of the redeemed. had they ever felt the burden of sin as the reformers felt it, had they ever yearned for such a fellowship with christ as whole-hearted personal trust gives, or even for such as comes in the sense of bodily contact in the sacrament, had they ever felt the craving to get in touch with their lord _somehow_ or _anyhow_, they would never have been able to do without this conception of a church catholic of some kind or other. they never seemed to feel the need of it. the racovian catechism was compelled to make some reference to the kingly and priestly offices of christ. it owed so much to the new testament. its perfunctory sentences show that our lord was for the socinians simply a prophet sent from god to proclaim a superior kind of morality. his highest function was to communicate knowledge to men, and perhaps to teach them by example how to make use of it. they had no conception that jesus came to _do_ something for his people, and that what he _did_ was much more valuable than what he said, however precious that might be. they were content to become his scholars, the scholars of a teacher sent from god, and to become members of his school, where his opinions were known and could be learned. they had no idea that they needed to be saved in the deeper sense of that word. they have no need, therefore, for the conception of the church; what they did need and what they have is the thought of a school of opinions to which they could belong.[ ] in this one thought they were equally far apart from the circle of mediæval and of reformation theological thinking. in most of their other theological conceptions their opinions were inherited from mediæval theology. they had little or no connection with reformation theology or with what that represents--the piety of the mediæval church. book vi. _the counter-reformation._ chapter i. the necessity of a reformation of some sort universally admitted.[ ] in the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries the urgent need for a reformation of the church was recognised by all thoughtful men everywhere throughout western europe, and was loudly expressed by almost everyone outside the circle of the influence of the roman curia. statesmen and men of letters, nobles and burghers, great churchmen as well as monks and parish priests--all bewailed the condition of the organised christian life, and most of them recognised that the unreformed papacy was the running sore of europe. the protest against the state of religion was not confined to individual outcries; it found expression in the states-general of france, in diet of germany, and in the parliament of england. the complaints took many forms. one of the most universal was that the clergy, especially those of higher rank, busied themselves with everything save the one thing which specially belonged to them--the cure of souls. they took undue share in the government of the countries of europe, and ousted the nobles from their legitimate places of rule. clerical law-courts interfered constantly with the lives of burghers; and the clergy protested that they were not bound to obey the ordinary laws of the land. a brawling priest could plead the "benefit of clergy"; but a layman who struck a priest, no matter what the provocation, was liable to the dread penalty of excommunication. their "right of sanctuary" was a perpetual encouragement to crime.[ ] they and their claims menaced the quiet life of civilised towns and states. constitutional lawyers, trained by humanism to know the old imperial law codes of theodosius and justinian, traced these evils back to the interference of canon law with civil, and that to the universal and absolute dominion of a papal absolutism. the reformation desired, floated before the minds of statesmen as a reduction more or less thorough of the papal absolutism, and of the control exercised by the pope and the clergy over the internal affairs of the state, even its national ecclesiastical regulations. the historical fact that the loosely formed kingdoms of the middle ages were being slowly transformed into modern states, perhaps furnished unconsciously the basis for this idea of a reformation. the same thought took another and more purely ecclesiastical form. the papal absolutism meant frequently that italians received preferments all over western europe, and supplanted the native clergy in the more important and richer benefices. why should the churches of spain, england, or france be ruled by italian prelates, whether resident or non-resident? it was universally felt that roman rule meant a lack of spirituality, and was a source of religious as well as of national degradation. men longed for a change, clergy as well as laity; and the thought of national churches really independent of rome, if still nominally under the western obedience, filled the minds of many reformers.[ ] the early mediæval church had been a stern preacher of righteousness, had taught the barbarous invaders of europe lessons of pure living, honesty, sobriety; it had insisted that the clergy ought to be examples as well as preachers; canon law was full of penalties ordained to check clerical vices. but it was notorious that the higher clergy, whose duty it was to put the laws in execution, were themselves the worst offenders. how could english bishops enforce laws against incontinence, when wolsey, archbishop, cardinal, and legate, had made his illegitimate daughter the abbess of salisbury? what hope was there for strict discipline when no inconsiderable portion of a bishop's annual income came from money paid in order to practise clerical incontinence in security? reformers demanded a reformation of clerical morals, beginning with the bishops and descending through all grades to monks and nuns.[ ] humanism brought forward yet another conception of reform. it demanded either a thorough repudiation of the whole of scholastic theology and a return to the pure and simple "christian philosophy" of the church of the first six centuries, or such a relaxation of that scholastic as would afford room for the encouragement of the new learning. lastly, a few pious souls, with the clear vision of god which purity and simplicity of heart and mind give, declared that the church had lost religion itself, and that the one reformation needed was the rediscovery of religion and the gracious enlightenment of the individual heart and conscience.[ ] the first conception of a reformation which looked for a cure of the evils which all acknowledged to the supremacy of the secular over ecclesiastical rule, may be seen in the reformation of the local churches of brandenburg and saxony under frederick of brandenburg and william of saxony. archbishop cranmer believed that the only way of removing the evils under which the church of the later middle ages was groaning was to subordinate the ecclesiastical to the secular powers. the reformation of the church of england under henry viii. carried out this idea to practical issue, but involved with it a nominal as well as a real destruction of the political unity of the mediæval church. his actions were carefully watched and admired by many of the german romanist princes, who made more than one attempt, about the year , to create a national church in germany under secular guidance, and remaining true to mediæval doctrine, hierarchy, and ritual.[ ] the thought of a reformation of this kind was so familiar to men of the sixteenth century, that the probability of henry viii.'s separation from rome was matter of discussion long before it had entered into the mind of that monarch.[ ] chapter ii. the spanish conception of a reformation.[ ] § . _the religious condition of spain._ the country, however, where all these various conceptions of what was meant by a reformation of the church were combined in one definite scheme of reform which was carried through successfully, was spain. it is to that country one must turn to see what mediævalists, who were at the same time reformers, wished to effect, and what they meant by a reformation of the church. it included a measure of secular control, a revival and enforcement of all canonical laws framed to purify the morals of the clergy, a measured accommodation with humanism, a steady adherence to the main doctrines of the scholastic theology, the preservation in their entirety of the hierarchy, the rites and the usages of the mediæval church, and a ruthless suppression of heresy. spain furnishes the example of what has been called the catholic reformation. in spain, as nowhere else in mediæval europe, the firm maintenance of the christian religion and patriotism had been felt to be one and the same thing. the seven hundred years' war, which the christians of spain had waged with the moors, had given strength and tenacity to their religious sentiments, and their experience as christians in daily battle with an enemy of alien race and alien faith, left to themselves in their peninsula, cut off from the rest of europe, had made them cling all the more closely to that visible solidarity of all christian people which found expression in the mediæval conception of the mediæval catholic church. spain had given birth to the great missionary monastic order of the dominicans,--the leaders of an intellectual crusade against the penetrating influence of a moslem pantheism (averroism), --and to the great repressive agency of the inquisition in its sternest and most savage form. it was spain that was to furnish the counter-reformation, with its most devoted leader, ignatius loyola, and with its strongest body of combatants, the society of jesus which he founded. it need scarcely be wondered at that it was in spain that we find the earliest systematic attempts made to save the church from the blindness and perversity of its rulers by the interposition of the secular authority to combat the deteriorating influence of the roman curia upon the local church, and to restore discipline among the clergy. the cortes of the various small kingdoms of the spanish peninsula repeatedly interfered to limit the overgrowth of clerical privileges, to insist on the submission of the clergy to the common law of the land, and to prevent the too great preponderance of clerical influence in secular administration. the ordinances of their kings were used, time after time, to counteract the influence of harmful papal bulls, and to prevent the interference of italian ecclesiastics in the affairs of the spanish church. in the end of the fifteenth century the spanish bishops had been reduced to a state of dependence on the crown; all exercise of ecclesiastical authority was carefully watched; the extent of ecclesiastical jurisdiction was specifically limited, and clerical courts were made to feel their dependence on the secular tribunals. the crown wrung from the papacy the right to see that piety and a zeal for religion were to be indispensable qualifications for clerical promotion. all this regulative zeal was preserved from being simply the attempts of politicians to control a rival power by certain fundamental elements in the national religious character, which expressed themselves in rulers as well as in the mass of their subjects. in spain, more than in any other land, asceticism and mystical raptures were recognised to be the truest expression of genuine religious sentiment. kings and commonalty alike shared in the firm belief that a real imitation of christ meant to follow in the footsteps of the man of sorrows, who wandered about not knowing where to lay his head, and who was enabled to endure what was given him to do and to suffer by continuous and rapt communion with the unseen. the ecclesiastical reformer of spain had all these elements to work upon, and they made his task comparatively easy. § . _reformation under ximenes._ the consolidation of the peninsula under ferdinand and isabella suggested a thorough reorganisation of the spanish church. the crown extorted from the papacy extraordinary powers to deal with the secular clergy and with the monasteries. the great queen was determined to purge the church of her realm of all that she deemed to be evil. she called to her councils three famous churchmen in whom she had thorough confidence--the great spanish cardinal, mendoza, her confessor, hernando de talavera, and francesco ximenes. it was ximenes who sketched the plan and who carried through the reformation. francesco ximenes de cisneros, as he is called, had been a franciscan monk devoted to the ideals of his order. he belonged to a poor family, and had somehow or other attracted the attention of cardinal mendoza, at whose instigation the queen had made him her father-confessor ( ). she insisted on his accepting the dignity of archbishop of toledo ( ), and had selected him to carry out her plans for the organisation and purification of the spanish church. after his elevation to the arch-episcopal chair he gave the example of what he believed to be the true clerical life by following in the most literal way the maxims of st. francis about self-denial, devotion, and ascetic life. he made these the ideal for the spanish clergy; they followed where he led. the concordat of gave the spanish crown the right of "visitation" (held to involve the power to dismiss from office) and of nomination to benefices. ximenes used these powers to the full. he "visited" the monasteries personally, and received full reports about the condition of the convents. he re-established in all of them monastic discipline of the strictest kind. the secular clergy were put to like proof. the secular power was invoked to sweep all opponents to reform from his path. his queen protected him when the vacillations of the papal policy threatened to hinder his work. in the end, the church in spain secured a devoted clergy whose personal life was free from the reproaches justly levelled at the higher clergy of other lands. ximenes, having purified the morals of the spanish clergy, next set himself to overcome their ignorance and lack of culture. in every chapter within castile and aragon, two prebends were set apart for scholars, one of them for a student in canon law, and the other for an expert theologian. a special "visitation" of the clergy removed from their places all utterly ignorant persons. new schools of theology were instituted. in addition to the mediæval universities of salamanca and valladolid, ximenes founded one in alcala, another in seville, a third at toledo. alcala and valladolid were the principal theological schools, and there, in addition to the older studies of dogmatic theology and ethics, courses of lectures wore given in biblical exegesis. the theology taught was that of thomas aquinas, to the exclusion of the later developments of scholastic under john duns scotus and william of occam. the augustinian elements in thomas were specially dwelt upon; and soon there arose a school of theologians who were called the new thomists, who became very powerful, and were later the leading opponents of the jesuit teachers. there was also an attempt to make use of the new learning in the interest of the old theology. ximenes collected at alcala the band of scholars who under his superintendence prepared the celebrated complutensian polyglot. the labours of erasmus were sympathised with by the leaders of this spanish movement. the princes of the church delighted to call themselves his friends. they prevented the spanish monks from attacking him even when he struck hardest at the follies of the monastic life. he was esteemed at court. the most prominent statesmen who surrounded charles, the young prince of the netherlands, the king of spain, called themselves erasmians. erasmus, if we are to believe what he wrote to them,--which is scarcely possible,--declared that the work in spain under ximenes followed the best type of a reformation in the church. but there was another and terrible side to this spanish purification of the church and of the clergy. the inquisition had been reorganised, and every opinion and practice strange to the mediæval church was relentlessly crushed out of existence. this stern repression was a very real part of the spanish idea of a reformation. the spanish policy for the renovation of the church was not a reformation in the sense of providing room for anything new in the religious experience. its sole aim was to requicken religious life within the limits which had been laid down during the middle ages. the hierarchy was to remain, the mediæval conceptions of priesthood and sacraments; the pope was to continue to be the acknowledged and revered head of the church; "the sacred ceremonies, decrees, ordinances, and sacred usages"[ ] were to be left untouched; the dogmatic theology of the mediæval church was to remain in all essentials the same as before. the only novelty, the only sign of appreciation of new ideas which were in the air, was that the papal interference in the affairs of national churches was greatly limited, and that at a time when the papacy had become so thoroughly secularised as to forget its real duties as a spiritual authority. the sole recognition of the new era, with its new modes of thought, was the proposal that the secular authorities of the countries of europe should undertake duties which the papacy was plainly neglecting. perhaps it might be added that the slight homage paid to the new learning, the appreciation of the need of an exact text of the original scriptures, its guarded approval of the laity's acquaintance with holy writ, introduced something of the new spirit; but these things did not really imply anything at variance with what a devoted adherent of the mediæval church might readily acquiesce in. § . _the spaniards and luther._ devout spaniards were able to appreciate much in luther's earlier work. they could sympathise with his attack on indulgences, provided they did not inquire too closely into the principles implied in the _theses_--principles which luther himself scarcely recognised till the leipzig disputation. their hearts responded to the intense religious earnestness and high moral tone of his earlier writings. they could welcome his appearance, even when they could not wholly agree with all that he said, in the hope that his utterances would create an impetus towards the _kind_ of reformation they desired to see. the reformation of the spanish church under cardinal ximenes enables us to understand both the almost universal welcome which greeted luther's earlier appearances and the opposition which he afterwards encountered from many of his earlier supporters. some light is also cast on that opposition when we remember that the emperor charles himself fully accepted the principles underlying the spanish reformation, and that they had been instilled into his youthful mind by his revered tutor whom he managed to seat in the chair of st. peter--adrian vi., whose short-lived pontificate was an attempt to force the spanish reformation on the whole of the western obedience. if it be possible to accept the statements made by glapion, the emperor's confessor, to dr. brück, the saxon chancellor in the days before luther's appearance at worms, as a truthful account of the disposition and intentions of charles v., it may be said that an attempt was made to see whether luther himself might be made to act as a means of forcing the spanish reformation on the whole german church. glapion professed to speak for the emperor as well as for himself. luther's earlier writings, he said, had given him great pleasure; he believed him to be a "plant of renown," able to produce splendid fruit for the church. but the book on the _babylonian captivity_ had shocked him; he did not believe it to be luther's; it was not in his usual style; if luther had written it, it must have been because he was momentarily indignant at the papal bull, and as it was anonymous, it could easily be repudiated; or if not repudiated, it might be explained, and its sentences shown to be capable of a catholic interpretation. if this were done, and if luther withdrew his violent writings against the pope, there was no reason why an amicable arrangement should not be come to. the papal bull could easily be got over, it could be withdrawn on the ground that luther had never had a fair trial. it was a mistake to suppose that the emperor was not keenly alive to the need for a reformation of the church; there were limits to his devotion to the pope; the emperor believed that he would deserve the wrath of god if he did not try to amend the deplorable condition of the church of christ. such was glapion's statement. it is a question how far he was sincere, and if so, whether he really did express what was in the mind of the emperor. frederick of saxony did not believe either in his sincerity or in his representation of the emperor's real opinions; and luther himself refused all private conference with glapion. yet it is almost certain that glapion did express what many an earnest spanish ecclesiastic thoroughly believed. we have an interesting confirmation of this in the conversation which konrad pellikan had with francisco de los angeles, the provincial of the spanish franciscans at basel. the franciscan expressed himself in almost the very same terms as glapion.[ ] three forces met at the diet of worms in --the german movement for reform inspired by luther, the spanish reformation represented by charles v., and the stolid inertia of the roman curia speaking by the nuncio aleander. the first and the second could unite only if luther retraced his steps and stood where he did before the leipzig disputation. if he refused, the inevitable result was that the emperor and the curia would combine to crush him before preparing to measure their strength against each other. the two different conceptions of reform may be distinguished from each other by saying that the spanish conception sought to awaken the benumbed and formalist mediæval church to a new religious life, leaving unchanged its characteristics of a sacerdotal ministry, an external visible unity under a hierarchy culminating in the papacy, and a body of doctrine guaranteed by the decisions of oecumenical councils. the other wished to free the human spirit from the fetters of merely ecclesiastical authority, and to requicken the life of the church through the spiritual priesthood of all believers. the former sought the aid of the secular power to purge national churches and restore ecclesiastical discipline, but always under a decorous air of submission to the bishop of rome, and with a very real belief in the supremacy and infallibility of a general council. the latter was prepared to deny the authority of the bishop of rome altogether, and to see the church of the middle ages broken up into territorial or national churches, each of which, it was contended, was a portion of the one visible catholic church. but as separate tendencies may be represented by a single contrast, it may be said that charles would have forgiven luther much had the reformer been able to acknowledge the infallibility of a general council. the dramatic wave of the hand by which charles ended the altercation between official eck and luther, when the latter insisted that general councils had erred, and that he could prove it, ended the dream that the movement in germany could be used to aid in the universal introduction of the spanish reformation. if the ideas of reforming spanish ecclesiastics and statesmen were to requicken the whole mediæval church, some other way of forcing their acceptance had to be found. § . _pope adrian vi. and the spanish reformation._ the opportunity seemed to come when, owing to the rivalries of powerful cardinals and the steady pressure of charles v. on the conclave, adrian of utrecht was elected pope. the new pontiff had a long reputation for learning and piety. his courage had been manifested in his fearless denunciation of prevailing clerical abuses, and in the way he had dealt with difficult questions in mediæval theology. he had no sympathy with the new curialist ideas of papal inerrancy and infallibility, nor with the repeated assertions of italian canonists that the pope was superior to all ecclesiastical law. he rather believed that such ideas were responsible for the degradation of the church, and that no amendment was possible until the whole system of papal reservations, exemptions, and other ways in which the papacy had evaded the plain declarations of canon law, was swept away. the public confidence in his piety, integrity, and learning was so great that the netherlands had entrusted him with the religious education of their young prince, and none of his instructors so stamped themselves on the mind of charles. adrian was a dutch ximenes. he had the same passionate desire for the reformation of the church, and the same ideas of how such reformation could be brought about. he prized the ascetic life; he longed to see the monastic orders and the secular clergy disciplined in the strictest way; he had a profound admiration for thomas aquinas, and especially for that side of the great schoolman's teaching which represented the ideas of st. augustine. he so exactly reproduced in his own aspirations the desires of the spanish reformers, that cardinal carvajal, who with the grave enthusiasm of his nation was engaged in the quixotic task of commending the spanish reformation to the authorities in rome, desired to take him there as an indispensable assistant. he was also in full sympathy with the darker side of the spanish reformation. during his sojourn in spain he had become one of the heads of the inquisition, and was firmly opposed to any relaxation of the rigours of the holy office. with adrian in the chair of st. peter, the emperor and the leaders of the spanish church might hope to see their type of a reformation adopted to cure the ills under which the church was suffering. the new pope did not lack sympathisers in italy when he began his task of cleansing the augean stables without turning the torrent of revolution through them. cardinal carvajal welcomed him in a speech which expressed his own ideas if it displeased his colleagues in whose name he was supposed to speak. a memorial drafted by egidio, general of the augustinian eremites, was presented to him, which practically embodied the reforms the new pope wished to see accomplished.[ ] his programme was as extensive as it was thorough. a large part of it may be compared with the reforms sketched in luther's _address to the nobility of the german nation_. he disapproved of the way in which _prebends_ were taken from foundations within national churches to swell the incomes of roman cardinals. he disliked the whole system of papal _reservations_, _indults,_[ ] _exemptions_, _expectances_, which under the fostering care of pope john xxii. had converted the curia into a great machine for raking in money from every corner of western europe.[ ] he disapproved of the system of encouraging complainants to pass over the episcopal courts of their own lands and bring their cases at once before the papal court. but every one of these reforms would cut off a source of revenue. it meant that hundreds of hungry italian humanists would lose their pensions, and that as many pens would lampoon the holy father who was intent on taking bread from his children. it meant that hundreds of ecclesiastical lawyers who had invested their savings in purchasing places in the curia, would find themselves reduced to penury. it meant that the incomes of the princes of the church would shrink in an incalculable manner. adrian set himself to show such men how to meet the changes in prospect. he brought his old flemish peasant housekeeper with him to rome, contented himself with the simple dishes she cooked for him, and lived the life of an anchorite in a corner of his vast palace on the vatican hill; but in this case example did not seem better than precept. it had seemed so easy to the simple-minded dutch scholar to reform the church; everything was provided for in the canon law, whose regulations had only to be put in force. his spanish experience had confirmed him in the possibility of the task. but at rome he found a system of rules of chancery which could not be set aside all at once; there was no convenient inquisition so organised that it could clear all objectors out of his path; no secular power always ready to support a reforming churchman. where was he to begin? the whole practice of indulgences appeared to be what was most in need of reform. its abuses had kindled the storm in germany. to purge them away would show how much in earnest he was. he knew the subject well. he had written upon it, and therefore had studied it from all sides. rightly understood, indulgences were precious things. they showed how a merciful god had empowered his church to declare that he pardoned sins freely; and, besides, they proclaimed, as no other usage of the church did, the brotherhood of all believers, within which the stronger could help the weaker, and the holier the more sinful, and all could fulfil the law of christ by bearing each other's burdens. only it was to be remembered that every pardon required a heart unfeignedly penitent, and the sordid taint of money must be got rid of. but--there was always a "but" for poor adrian--it was shown to him that the papal court could not possibly pay its way without the money which came in so easily from the sale of indulgences. he was baffled at the very start; checks, for the most part quite unexpected, thwarted every effort. he was like a man in a nightmare, set in a thicket of thorns, where no hewing could set him free, clothes torn, limbs bleeding, till at last he sank exhausted, welcoming the death which freed him from his impossible task. adrian was the distinguished martyr of the spanish reformation. history has dwelt upon his failures; they were only too manifest. it has derided his simplicity in sending chieregati to germany with the confession that the curia was the source of most of the evils which beset the mediæval church, and at the same time demanding the death of luther, who had been the first to show the fact in such a way that all men could see it. it has said little of the success that came in due time. chieregati was unable to overcome the deeply rooted evangelical reformation in germany. but his mission and the honest statement that the curia was the seat of evil in the church, date the beginnings of a reaction, of a genuine romanist party with a vague idea of reforms on mediæval lines. it must be taken as the starting-point of the counter-reformation in germany. adrian's example, too, did much to encourage the few spiritually minded churchmen in italy, and its effects can be seen in the revival of a zeal to purify the church which arose during the pontificate of paul iii. chapter iii. italian liberal roman catholics and their conception of a reformation.[ ] § . _the religious condition of italy._ italy is the land which next to spain is the most important for the counter-reformation. while we can trace in spain and in germany a certain solidarity of religious movement, the spiritual conditions of italy during the first half of the sixteenth century were as manifold as its political conditions. it is impossible to speak of the italians as a whole. italy had been the land of the renaissance, but that great intellectual movement had never rooted itself deeply in the people as it had done in germany, france, or england. the italian peasantry were a class apart from the burghers as they were nowhere else. their religion was usually a thinly veiled paganism, a belief in the omnipresence of spirits, good and bad, to be thanked, propitiated, coaxed or compelled by use of charms, amulets, spells, and ceremonies. the gods of their pagan ancestors had been replaced by local saints, and received the same kind of worship. to fight for their faith had never been a tradition with them as with the spaniards; they were not troubled by any continuous sense of sin as were the people of the northern nations; but they had an intense fear of the supernatural, and their faith in the priest, who could stand between them and the terrors of the unseen, was boundless. goodness touched them as it does all men. but the immorality of their religious guides did not embarrass them; a bad priest had as powerful spells as a good one. the only kind of christianity which seemed able to impress them and hold them was that of francis of assisi. he was the highest embodiment of the christian spirit for the italian peasantry; the impression he had made upon the people of the peninsula was enduring; the wandering revivalist preacher who lived as francis had done always made the deepest impression. john of capistrano owed much of his power to the fact that he remained always the abruzzi peasant. during the whole of the period of the renaissance the peasantry and the clergy who served the village chapels were regarded by those above them with a scorn that degenerated into hatred. we may search in vain through the whole of the literature of the time for the thought that any attempt ought to be made to lead them to a deeper faith and a purer life. the whole of the peasant population of italy were believed to be beneath the level of desire for something better than what the religious life of the times gave.[ ] the towns presented an entirely different picture. there was a solidarity binding together all the civic population. the ordinary division of ranks, made by greater or less possession of wealth or by social standing, existed, but it did not prevent a common mode of thinking. we can trace the same thoughts among artisans, small shopkeepers, rich merchants, and the patricians of the towns. no country presented so many varieties of local character as italy; but the inhabitants of venice or florence, milan, naples, however else they might differ, were all on the same spiritual level. they thought much about religion; they took the moral degradation of the church and of the clergy to heart; they longed to see some improvement, if it was only within their own city. they were clearsighted enough to trace the mischief to the influence of the roman curia, and their belief in the hopelessness of reforming the evil court gives a settled despondency to their thought which appears in most of the chronicles. the external side of religion was inextricably interwoven with their city life. the civic rulers had always something to do with the churches, monasteries, and other ecclesiastical foundations within their walls. they had no great interest in doctrine; what they wanted was a real improvement in the moral living of clergy and of people. when an italian town was blessed with a good and pious bishop, it is touching to see how the whole population rallied round him. when we turn to the outstanding men of the italian peninsula, whose opinions have been preserved in their writings or correspondence, we find, to begin with, a great variety of religious opinions whose common note is unconstrained hostility to the church as it was then constituted. the institution was a necessary evil, very important as a factor in the game of politics, useless for the religious life. this sentiment existed almost universally, both among those who merely maintained a decorous relation towards the existing ecclesiastical institutions, and among those who really believed in christianity, and acknowledged its power over their mind and life. the papal curia oppressed them; they were hopeless of its reformation, and yet there was little hope of a revival of religion, with its social worship and its "sacraments" unless it was reformed. the feeling of hopelessness is everywhere apparent; the deepest spiritual longings and experiences were to be treasured as sacred secrets of the heart, and not to be spoken about. yet the work of savonarola had not been entirely consumed in the fire that burnt the martyr, and the earlier message of luther had found an echo in many italian hearts. § . _the italian roman catholic reformers._ there is no evidence of any widespread acceptance of the whole of luther's teaching, little appreciation of the thought that the church may be conceived as a fellowship of god with man depending on the inscrutable purpose of god and independent of all visible outward organisation, none of the idea that the visible church catholic exists one and indivisible in the many forms in which men combine to listen to the word and to manifest their faith. the catholic church was always to these pious italians the great historical and external institution with its hierarchy, and its visible head in the bishop of rome. a reform of the church meant for them the reformation of that institution. so long as this was denied them they could always worship within the sanctuary of their own souls, and they could enjoy the converse of likeminded friends. so there came into existence coteries of pious italians who met to encourage each other, and to plan the restoration of religion within the church. humanism had left its mark on all of them, and their reunions were called academies, after the platonic academies of the earlier renaissance. the first had come into being before the death of leo. x.--a society of pious laymen and prelates, who met in the little church of santi silvestro et dorotea in the trastevere in rome. the associates were more than fifty in number, and they were all distinguished by their love of the new learning, the strict purity of their lives, and their devotion to the theology of st. augustine. the members were scattered after the sack of rome ( ), but this _oratory of divine love_ gave rise to many kindred associations within which the original members found a congenial society. the most important found a home in venice. its most prominent members were gasparo contarini, a distinguished senator, who afterwards was induced to become a cardinal. with him were cardinal caraffa, already meditating upon taking another path, and gregorio cortese, then abbot of san giorgio maggiore. the friends met in the beautiful garden of the convent. all shades of opinion were represented in this circle, where humanists and churchmen met to exchange views about a reformation of the church. to share in such intercourse, reginald pole willingly spent his days far from his native england. cardinal fregoso, archbishop of salerno, gathered a similar company around him at genoa; and ghiberti, bishop of verona, collected likeminded friends to talk about the possibilities of reformation. modena and padua had their christian academies also. nor must the influence of well-born, cultured and pious ladies be forgotten. renée, duchess of ferrara and daughter of louis xii. of france, had accepted the reformation in its entirety, and had surrendered herself to the guidance of calvin. she corresponded with the great frenchman and with bullinger. she sheltered persecuted italian protestants, or had them safely conveyed to switzerland.[ ] but she saw good wherever it was to be found. her letters, instinct with christian graciousness, remind the reader of those of her kinswoman marguerite of navarre. she was full of sympathy with the circle of men and women who longed for a regeneration of italy; and it is interesting to notice how the far more highly gifted vittoria colonna leant on the woman whose spiritual insight was deeper, and whose heart was purified by the trials which her decision in religious matters made her pass through. caterina cybó, a niece of pope clement, princess of camerino, eleonora gonzaga, duchess of urbino, julia gonzaga at naples, and vittoria colonna at viterbo and at rome, formed a circle of highly intellectual and deeply pious women, who by their letters and intercourse inspired men who were working for the regeneration of the church in italy. the network of their correspondence covered italy from venice to naples and from genoa to camerino, and the letters exchanged between marguerite of navarre and vittoria colonna extended the influence of the association beyond the peninsula. the correspondents, men and women, regarded themselves as a band of companions pledged to each other to work together for the reformation of the church and of society. it is not easy to describe their aims, for they contented themselves for the most part with vague aspirations; and they all had their favourite likes and dislikes. it is impossible to doubt their earnestness, but it was of the high-bred placid kind. it had nothing of the spanish exaltation of teresa, of the german vehemence of luther, of the french passion scarcely veiled by the logical precision of calvin. they all admired st. francis, but in a way out of sympathy with the common people, for they looked on asceticism with a mild wonder, and had no eagerness for _that_ type of the imitation of christ. vittoria colonna indeed found the convent at viterbo a pleasant retreat for a few weeks at a time. a sigh sometimes escaped her that perhaps the nuns were all marys who had chosen the better part, but that was only when she was weary with the perversities of the incomprehensible world. their correspondence suggests an academy of the earlier italian renaissance, where the theory of ideas had given way to doctrines of justification, and the epistles of st. paul had taken the place of the dialogues of plato. there is a touch of dilettantism in their habits of thought, and a savour of the eighteenth century salon in their intercourse. they longed to mediate between contending parties in the religious strife which was convulsing europe beyond the alps and might invade italy; but they were unfit for the task. a true _via media_ can only be found by men who see both sides of the controversy in the clear vision of thought, not by men who perceive neither distinctly. sadoleto, to take one example, declared that he could see much to admire in the german reformation, but what he approved were only the external portions which came from humanism, not those elements which made the movement a religious revival. he disliked luther, but had a great esteem for bucer and melanchthon. indeed, the italian cardinal may be called the melanchthon of romanism. melanchthon, rooted in protestantism, felt compelled by his intellectual sympathy and humility to believe that there was some good in romanism and to try to find it; sadoleto, rooted in romanism, was impelled to some sympathy with the protestant theology. he had, however, a fatal lack of precision of thought. one doctrine tended to slide insensibly into another, into its opposite even, under the touch of his analysis. the man who could defend and commend auricular confession because it was an example of christian humility, and saint-worship because it was a testimony to the immortality of the soul, ran the risk of being regarded as a trifler by protestants and a traitor by romanists. such was his fate. contemporary with these offshoots from the _oratory of divine love_ was a revival among some of the monastic orders in italy which had distinct connection with some of the members of the associations above mentioned. the most important for its influence on the religious life of the people was the order of the capucins. it took its rise from matteo de grassis, a man of no intellectual powers, but endowed with more than the usual obstinacy of the italian peasant. he was an umbrian, like francis himself. he belonged to a district where traditions of the great mediæval revivalist had been handed down from parents to children for generations, and one of these insisted that st. francis had worn a hood with its peak pointed and not rounded, as the fashion among the monks then was. he declared that st. francis had appeared to him in a vision, and had said that the brethren of the order ought to obey his rules "to the letter, to the letter, to the letter." he for one resolved to obey. he threw away rounded hood and wore one with pointed peak. the peasants refused to recognise the novelty, and drove him off with stones; his brethren argued with him, and belaboured him with their fists; but matteo stuck to his pointed hood. the shape was nothing, but the founder's commands were everything; matteo would die before he would wear the rounded thing which had never been hallowed by st. francis. the princess caterina cybó took compassion on the hunted man, and gave him an asylum within her little principality of camerino, where he wore his pointed _capuze_ in peace. he soon sank back into the obscurity from which he had for a moment emerged. but new life was stirring among the franciscans. many were dissatisfied with the laxity of the order, and were longing for a monastic reformation. all down the middle ages the watchword of every monastic revival had been, "back to the founder's rules." the pointed hood was a trifle, but it was the symbol of a return to the rigid discipline of francis. men heard that camerino was an asylum for franciscans discontented with the laxity of the superiors of the order, and gradually they flocked to the little principality. vittoria colonna had long mourned over the decadence of the genuine monastic life; she encouraged her friend the princess caterina to beseech her uncle the pope to permit the pointed hood, and gradually there came into being a new fresh offshoot of the franciscans, called the capucins, who revived the traditions of st. francis, and went preaching among the villages after the fashion of his earlier followers. francis had told his disciples to beware of books when making their sermons; he had advised them to talk to the women as they washed, italian fashion, by the side of streams, to masons while they were hewing, to artisans at their work, to find out what their religious difficulties were, what prevented them becoming really christians in their lives, and then to discourse on the things they had heard. this old franciscan preaching was restored by the capucins, and they did more than any others to bring the people of italy back to the discredited church. they were accused of heresy. what "reformation" of the franciscans was not? they were called lutherans; and a good deal of luther's evangelical teaching was unconsciously presented in their sermons; but they could always quote st. francis for what they said; and who could gainsay what francis had taught? this monastic revival affected the commonalty; another spoke to the educated classes. as early as an attempt had been made to reorganise the great benedictine order, and a number of benedictine abbeys had united to form a congregation, which soon after its institution took the name of the benedictine mother-cloister, monte cassino. gregorio cortese, one of the members of the _oratory of divine love_, entered into the movement, and as abbot of the benedictine convent on the island of lerina on the riviera, and afterwards in the convent of san giorgio maggiore at venice, led his monks to show that their convents were the centres of learning dedicated to the service of the church. he interested himself more especially in historical studies with a view of maintaining the historic traditions of the church, which were beginning to be shaken by historical criticism, then in its infancy. the improvement of the secular clergy was more important for the church in italy than any reforms of the monastic orders. an attempt to do this was begun by two members of the _oratory of divine love_, giovanni pietro caraffa and gaetano da thiene. their idea was that in every diocese there ought to be a small band of men doing the work of secular clergy but bound by monastic vows. their idea was taken from augustine's practice of living monastically with some of his clergy; and fulfilled itself in the order of the theatines. the name was derived from theate (chieti), the small see of which caraffa was bishop. these picked clergy were to be to the bishop what his staff is to a general. the theatines were not to be numerous, still less to include the whole secular clergy of a diocese; but they were to incite by precept, and above all by example, to a truly clerical life. the idea spread, and similar associations arose all over italy.[ ] such were the preparations in italy for the counter-reformation. there was no prospect of any attempt to set the church in order while pope clement vii. lived. he exhausted all his energies in preventing the summoning of a general council--a measure on which charles v. was growing more and more set as the only means of ending the religious dispute in germany. the accession of paul iii. ( ) seemed to inaugurate a new era full of hopes for the advocates of reform at the centre of the roman church. the new pope made gasparo contarini, caraffa, sadoleto, and pole cardinals. a bull, which remained unpublished, was read in the consistory (january ), sketching the possibility of reforming the curia. the pope appointed a commission of nine members to report upon the needful reforms, and the commission was everywhere regarded as a sort of preliminary council, a body of men who were appointed to investigate and tabulate a programme of necessary reforms to be laid before a general council. the commissioners were contarini, caraffa, ghiberti, sadoleto, pole, fregoso, all of whom had been members of the _oratory of divine love_, aleander who had been nuncio at the diet of worms, and tomaso badia, master of the sacred palace. they met and drafted a report which was presented to the pope in , and is known as the _consilium delectorum cardinalium et aliorum prælatorum de emendanda ecclesia_. a more scathing indictment of the condition of the roman church could scarcely be imagined, nor one which spoke more urgently of the need of radical reformation. its very thoroughness was disconcerting. it revealed so many scandals connected with the papacy that it was resolved not to make it known. but it had been printed as a private document; a copy somehow or other reached germany; it was at once republished there, with comments showing how a papal commission itself had justified all the german demands for a reformation of the church. at rome the appearance of reforming activity was maintained. contarini, caraffa, aleander, and badia were appointed to investigate the workings of those departments of the curia which had most to do with the abuses detailed in the report of the commission of nine--the _chancery_, the _datary_, and the _penitentiary_, where reservations, dispensations, exemptions, etc., were given and registered. they presented their report in the autumn of . it was entitled _consilium quattuor delectorum a paulo iii. super reformatione sanctæ romanæ ecclesiæ_. but contarini evidently felt that the pope needed pressing. when the commission of nine had been appointed, the pope had summoned a general council to meet at mantua in may , in a bull published on may th, , and had also published a bull of reformation in september of that year. the council never met--the war between charles v. and francis i. preventing. the council was then summoned to meet at vicenza, but was again postponed. the emperor had no wish for a general council in italy, and the pope was determined not to call one to meet in germany. in these circumstances contarini published his _epistola de potestate pontificis in usu clavium_, and his _de potestate pontificis in compositionibus_.[ ] historians differ about the sincerity of pope paul iii. in the matter of reform, and there is room for two opinions. his italian policy was anti-hapsburg, and the german romanist princes, at all events, had little belief in his sincerity, and were seriously meditating on following the example of henry viii. cardinal morone, the nuncio in germany, made no concealment of the difficulties attending the position of the romanist church there, and urged continually substantial reforms in italy, and the necessity of a general council. perhaps these energetic messages stirred the pope to renewed activity in rome, and also to the necessity of formulating a definite policy with regard to the lutherans beyond the alps. in april ( ) commissions were appointed to reform certain offices in the curia--the rota, the chancery, and the penitentiary. consultations were held about how to deal with the state of affairs in germany. for the moment the ideas of the more liberal-minded italian reformers were in the ascendant. charles had determined to find out whether it was not possible to reunite the broken church in germany. conferences were to be held with the leading lutheran theologians. the pope determined to reject the advice of faber, the bishop of vienna, and to refrain from pronouncing judgment on a series of lutheran propositions sent to him for condemnation. cardinal contarini, whose presence had been urgently required by the emperor, was permitted to cross the alps to see, in conference with distinguished lutherans, whether some common terms of agreement might be arrived at which would serve as a programme to be set before the general council, which all were agreed must be summoned sometime soon. § . _cardinals contarini and caraffa._ this mission of contarini's to germany dates the separation between two different ways of proposing to deal with the reformation movement. the two methods were embodied in two men, cardinals contarini and caraffa. they had both belonged to the _oratory of divine love_; they were both zealous to see the church reformed in the sense of reviving its moral and spiritual life; they both longed to see the rent which had made itself apparent repaired, and the church again reunited. they differed entirely about the means to be adopted to bring about the desirable end. the differences originated in the separate characters and training of the two leaders. gasparo contarini belonged to an ancient patrician family of venice, and spent the greater portion of his life in the service of the republic. he was looked on as the ablest and most upright of its statesmen. he had drunk deeply of the well of the new learning, and yet can hardly be called a humanist. he had been a student at padua, and had there studied and learned to appreciate scholastic theology. he had been trained as a venetian statesman, and clung to the political ideas of the mediæval jurisprudence. the whole round of mediæval thought encircled and possessed him. christendom was one great commonwealth, and embodied three great imperialist ideas--a world king, the emperor; a world priest, the pope; a realm of sanctified science, the scholastic philosophy under theology, the queen of the sciences. he held these three conceptions in a broad-minded and liberal way. there was room under the emperor for a community of christian states, under the pope for a brotherhood of national churches, under scholastic for the new learning and what it brought to enrich the mind of mankind. erasmus had ridiculed scholastic; contarini's friend cortese called it a farrago of words; luther had maintained that it sounded hollow because at its centre was the vague eternal something of pagan philosophy and not the father who had revealed his heart in jesus christ; but contarini saw the grandeur of the imposing edifice, believed in its solidity, and would do nothing to destroy it. but this did not prevent him sympathising strongly with luther's doctrine of justification by faith, nor from believing that room might be found for it and other protestant conceptions within the circle of medieval theological thought. he had little sympathy with the enthusiasm which some of his friends--cardinal pole for example--expressed for plato. aristotle was for him the great master-builder of human systematic thinking; but the aristotle he recognised as the master was not the sage revealed in the greek text or commentaries (although he studied both), but the aristotle who had cast his spell over thomas aquinas and albertus magnus. he was firmly persuaded that the bishop of rome was the head of the church, and as such had his place in the political system of christendom from which he could not be removed without serious danger to the whole existing framework of society; but he looked on the pope as a constitutional monarch bound to observe in his own person the ecclesiastical laws imposed by his authority on the christian world. luther, he believed, had recognised this in his earlier writings, and in this recognition lay the possibilities of a readjustment which would bring christendom together again. on the other hand, calvin's _institutio_ filled him with mingled admiration and dread. he recognised it to be the ablest book which the protestant movement had produced; but the thought of a christian democracy with which it was permeated, the stress it laid on the procession of the divine purpose down through the ages, and the manner in which it taught the prevenience of divine grace, were conceptions whose acceptance, he thought, would be dangerous to the political governance of mankind. he dwelt with complacency on the thought that he had never longed for ecclesiastical place or power. the pope had persuaded him to permit himself to be made cardinal because the holy see had need of his service. he was conscious with a sort of proud humility that he was generally esteemed the foremost italian of his generation, that enthusiastic friends spoke of his learning and virtue as "more divine than human." he thought much more of his position as a venetian senator and the trusted counsellor of the republic, whose constitution he believed to be the embodiment of the best political principles of the time, than he did of his place in the roman court. "i for my part, to tell the truth, do not think that the red hat is my highest honour," he was accustomed to say. such was the leader of the liberal-minded roman catholics of italy, who was asked by the pope and urgently entreated by the emperor to visit germany and end the schism by his persuasions. giovanni picture's caraffa, the intimate, the rival and the supplanter of contarini, belonged to one of the oldest noble families of naples. his house was intimately allied to the church, and for more than one hundred years its members had been archbishops of naples, and several had been made cardinals. the boy was destined for the church. as a child he had longed to enter a cloister, and had once set out to join the dominicans. his family, however, had other views for him. he was sent when eighteen years of age to the papal court, and was soon almost burdened with marks of distinction and with offices. he had been highly educated while at naples, and had steeped himself in the new learning. at the humanist courts of alexander vi. and julius ii. he studied greek and hebrew, and became an accomplished theologian besides. in , much against his will, he had been consecrated bishop of the small diocese of chieti (theate), lying in the wild abruzzi district, almost due east of rome, on the slopes from the highest spurs of the apennines to the adriatic. he found his people demoralised by constant feuds, and the priests worse than their parishioners. caraffa, determined to reduce his unruly diocese to order, began with persuasion; and finding this of small avail, flogged people and clergy into something like decency by repeated spiritual censures and rigidly enforced excommunications. his methods revealed the man. his talents were of too high an order and his family influence too great to permit him to linger in his uncivilised diocese. he was sent as nuncio to england and thence to spain. his visit to the latter country made an indelible impression on his strong nature. his earnest petitions for the independence of his native naples were contemptuously refused by the young king charles, and the fierce neapolitan pursued the emperor with an undying hatred. but what was more important, his stay in spain imbued him with the ideas of the spanish reformation. he was too much an italian and too strong a believer in the papal supremacy to adopt the thought of secular interference in the affairs of the church, but with that exception the spanish method of renovating the church took possession of him heart and soul. the germs of fanaticism, hitherto sleeping within him, were awakened to life, and never afterwards slumbered. he sympathised with the projects of adrian vi., and was a power during his brief pontificate. during the reign of clement vii. he took little part in public affairs, but all the attempts to put new life into the monastic orders were assisted by him. he viewed with some suspicion the attempt to conciliate the germans; and the results of contarini's dealing with the protestants at regensburg filled him with alarm. contarini's attempt to reunite the church by reconciliation was twenty years too late. it is doubtful whether anyone in germany save the emperor had much faith in the uniting influences of a conference. morone, who had for years represented the vatican at the court of ferdinand of austria, and who was perpetually urging the pope to summon a general council, was afraid ever since hagenau that conferences benefited the protestants more than the romanists. contarini himself had said that what was needed to overcome the german movement was neither conferences nor discussions about doctrine, but a reformation in morals. the curia regarded his mission as a dangerous experiment. they tied his hands as firmly as they could by his letter of instructions: he was to inform the emperor that no legate, not even the pope himself until he had consulted the other nations, could modify the doctrines of the church for the sake of the germans; he was to do his utmost to prevent the assembly of a national council for germany. he heard from paris that the french romanists believed that he was about to betray the church to the heretics. no one encouraged him except his own circle of immediate friends. the men with whom he was to work, cardinal de granvelle and dr. eck, were suspicious of him and of his antecedents. nevertheless his natural and confirmed optimism urged him to the task. the situation, looked at broadly and from the point of view taken by a contemporary who had made himself acquainted with the theology and constitution of the mediæval church, was not so hopeless as it must seem to us with the history of what followed to enlighten us. the great mass of mediæval doctrines lay uncodified. they were not codified until the council of trent. the extreme claims made by the supporters of a papal absolutism--claims which may be briefly expressed by the sentence: the church universal is condensed in the roman church, and the roman church is represented by the pope--which had been used to crush the lutheran movement in its earliest stages, were of recent origin. curialism could be represented to be almost as much opposed to the mediæval theory of the church as anything that luther had brought forward. there was a real _via media_, if it could only be discovered and defined. the commonplace opinions of men who were sincerely attached to the mediæval conception of the church, with its claims to catholicity, with its doctrines, usages, ceremonies and hierarchy, could scarcely be better represented than in the declaration said to have been made by charles v. to his sister maria, his governor in the netherlands: "it happened that on the vigil of st. john the baptist the emperor held a banquet in the garden. now, when queen maria asked him what he thought of doing with the people and with the confession (the augsburg) that had been presented, he made reply: 'dear sister, when i was made chief of the holy roman empire, the great complaint reached me that the people who profess this doctrine were more wicked than the devil. but the bishop of seville gave me the advice that i should not think of acting tyrannically, but should ascertain whether the doctrine is at variance with the articles of the christian faith (the apostles' creed). this advice pleased me, and so i find that the people are not so devilish as had been represented; nor is the subject of dispute the twelve articles, but a matter lying outside them, which i have therefore handed over to the scholars. if their doctrine had been in conflict with the twelve articles i should have been disposed to apply the edge of the sword.'"[ ] the twelve articles, as the apostles' creed was called, always occupied a peculiar position in the western church. they were believed to contain the _whole_ of the _theologia revelata_. the great schoolmen of the most opposite parties (thomas aquinas and john duns scotus alike) were accustomed to deduce from the apostles' creed fourteen propositions, seven on god and seven on the incarnation, and to declare that they contained the sum of revealed theology; everything else was natural theology on which men might differ without being considered to have abandoned the essentials of the christian faith. charles v. had been taught at first, probably by aleander's insistent reiterations, that luther had denied some portion of this revealed theology; he had come to learn that he had been wrongly informed; therefore conference and adjustment were possible. men like charles v. and contarini could honestly believe that so far as doctrine was concerned a compromise might be effected. § . _the conference at regensburg._ the diet was opened at regensburg in february . the emperor explained his position and intentions. he declared that the most important duty before them was to try to heal the division in religion which was separating germany into two opposing parties. the one duty of the hour was to endeavour to come to a unanimous decision on religious matters, and to bring about this he proposed to name some peace-loving men who could confer together upon the points in debate. count frederick of the palatinate, brother of the elector, and cardinal de granvelle were nominated presidents: three pronounced protestants, two pronounced romanists, and one whose opinions were doubtful, were the assessors; eck, gropper, and pflug were to support the romanist side, melanchthon, bucer, and pistorius were the speakers for the protestants. perhaps the only name that could be objected to was that of eck; it was impossible to think of him as a man of peace. the legate contarini guided everything. during preliminary conferences an understanding was come to on some practical questions which served to preserve an appearance of unanimity. it was thought that marriage might be permitted to the clergy and the cup to the laity within germany; that the pope might be honoured as the primate of the church, provided it was clearly understood that his position did not give him the power of perpetual interference in the affairs of the national churches; that the hierarchy might be maintained if the episcopal jurisdiction were exercised conjointly by a vicar appointed by the bishop and a learned layman appointed by the secular authority. it was the business of the conference to discuss the deeper theological differences which were supposed to separate the two parties. so in the opening meetings the delegates began to consider those questions which gathered round the thought of justification. it was agreed that there was no distinction between the ordinances of grace and those of nature in the original condition of man. this declaration involved the denial of the distinction between the _dona supernaturalia_ and the _dona naturalia_ made so much of in scholastic theology, and the basis of a great deal of its pelagian tendencies. it was expressly conceded by the romanist theologians that man had lost his original freedom of will by the fall--a concession directly at variance with the future declaration of the council of trent.[ ] the statement agreed upon about the origin of sin was given almost in the words of the augsburg confession, and agrees with them. the doctrine of the tenacity of original sin scarcely differs from a statement of luther's which had been condemned in the bull _exurge domine_ of pope leo x.[ ] in the discussions and conclusions about this first head of doctrine the conclusions of protestant theology had been amply vindicated. there was more difficulty on the matter of justification. two definitions suggested by the romanist theologians and by melanchthon were successively rejected, and one brought forward, it is said by contarini himself, was accepted after some discussion. it was couched in language which the lutheran theologians had not been accustomed to use. it embodied phrases which pole, contarini, and other liberal italian roman catholics had made their own. the protestants of germany, however, saw nothing in it to contradict their cherished ideas upon justification, and they gladly accepted the definition. the statement, repeated more than once, that grace is the free gift of god and is not merited by our works, expressed their deepest thought, and completely excluded the meritorious character of ecclesiastical good works. they seemed rather pleased than otherwise that their thoughts could be expressed in language suggested by romanist theologians.[ ] it appears that eck, while consenting to the definition, wished to avoid signing it, but was compelled by granvelle to fix his name to the document.[ ] the fact that the romanist and protestant members of the conference could agree upon an article on justification caused great rejoicings among contarini's friends in italy. cardinal pole was convinced that every obstacle in the way of reunion had been removed, and the most extravagant expectations were cherished.[ ] the protestant members of the conference were entirely satisfied with the results so far as they had gone. the conference then turned to questions affecting the organisation and worship of the church. somewhat to their surprise, the protestants found that their opponents were willing to accept their general theory of what was meant by the church and what were its distinguishing characteristics. the christian society was defined without any reference to the pope as its permanent head on earth. this provoked strong dissents from rome when the definition was known there. differences emerged when the power of the church was discussed, and as there was no prospect of agreement it was resolved for the meanwhile to omit the article.[ ] the question of the sacrament of the holy supper evoked differences which were felt to be almost insuperable. it was inevitable. for here the one fundamental divergence between the new evangelical faith and mediæval religion came to practical expression. nothing could reconcile the evangelical thought of a spiritual priesthood of all believers with the belief in a mediating priesthood who could give and could withhold god. doctrines might be stated in terms which hid this fundamental difference; a definition of justification by faith alone might be conceded to the protestants; but any thought of a priestly miracle in the sacrament of the holy supper had to be repudiated by the one party and clung to by the other. at first things went smoothly enough; it was conceded that special ways of dispensing the sacraments were matters indifferent, but whenever the question of transubstantiation emerged, things came to a deadlock. it was perhaps characteristic of contarini's somewhat surface way of dealing with the whole question at stake between the two parties, that he never probed the deeper question. he rested his plea for transubstantiation on the ground that an important article of faith which had been assented to for so long must not be questioned.[ ] the protestants held a private conference, at which all the theologians present were asked to give their opinions in turn. there calvin spoke, dwelling on the thought that transubstantiation implied adoration, which could never be conceded. his firmness produced unanimity. melanchthon drafted their common opinion, which was given in writing to granvelle, who refused in strong language to accept it, and the conference came to an end. the more difficult practical subjects of the sacrificial character of the mass and of private masses were not discussed.[ ] this conference at regensburg may almost be said to be the parting of the ways. up to the movement under luther had the appearance of a reformation of the whole church in germany. from to the date of this conference there was always the expectation that the lutherans who had formed territorial churches might yet be included in a general reformation of the whole german church. joachim ii. of brandenburg cherished the idea long after ; and charles v. still believed that what could not be effected by mutual compromise might be done by a mediating creed imposed upon all by the authority of the emperor. but compromise failed at ratisbon, and there was no further hope of its succeeding. the decisive character of the regensburg conference was seen in italy almost at once. its failure involved the destruction of the party of italian romanists who hoped to end the religious strife by a compromise. when contarini returned to italy he found that his influence was gone. he was rewarded with the government of bologna, which removed him from the centre of things. he died soon after (aug. th, ), leaving none behind him to fill his place. ghiberti survived him only sixteen months. caraffa had become more and more alienated from his early friends. sadoleto, pole, and morone remained, all of them men of intellect, but lacking the qualities which fit men to be leaders in trying times. pole lived to make atonement for his liberalism by hounding on the persecutions in england, and morone by becoming the champion of ultramontanism at the close of the council of trent. the conception of a catholic reformation disappeared; the idea of a counter-reformation took its place. chapter iv. ignatius loyola and the company of jesus.[ ] § . _at manresa._ the little mountainous province of guipuzcoa, lying at the corner of the bay of biscay, bordering on france, was the district of spain which produced one of the greatest of her sons, iñigo de recalde de loyola, the founder of the society of jesus. the tower which was the family seat still stands, rough and windowless as a scottish border keep, adorned with one ornament only, a stone above the doorway, on which are carved the arms of the family--two wolves in quest of prey. guipuzcoa had never been conquered by the moors, and its nobles, poor in their barren highlands, boasted that the bluest gothic blood ran in their veins. the recaldes belonged to the very oldest nobility of the district, and possessed the highly valued privilege of the right of personal summons to the coronation of the kings of leon. their younger sons were welcomed at court as pages, and then as soldiers; and the young iñigo was a page at the court of ferdinand. he was well educated for a spanish noble; could read and write; composed ballads; and could illuminate manuscripts with miniatures. most of his spare time was employed in reading those romances of chivalry then very popular. when older he became a soldier like his elder brothers. in , when twenty-eight years of age (b. ), he was the youngest officer in command of the garrison of pampeluna, ordered to withstand a combined force of invading french troops and some revolting spaniards. the enemy appeared before the place in such overwhelming numbers that all but the youngest officer wished to surrender without a struggle. iñigo's eloquence persuaded the garrison to attempt a desperate defence. no priest was among the soldiers; the spaniards, according to their custom, confessed each other, and were ready to die at their posts. a bullet struck the young officer as he stood in the breach encouraging his men. his fall gave the victory to the besiegers. the conspicuous bravery of iñigo had won the respect of his enemies. they extricated him from the heap of dead under which he was buried, and conveyed him to the old family castle. there his shattered leg was so badly set as to unfit him for a soldier's career. he had it twice broken and twice reset. the prolonged torture was useless; he had to believe that he would never fight on horseback again. the dream of taking a man's part in the conquests which all spaniards of that age believed lay before their country, had to be abandoned. his body was a useless log. but iñigo was a noble of the basque provinces, and possessed, in a superlative degree it was to be discovered, the characteristics of his race--at once taciturn and enthusiastic, wildly imaginative, and sternly practical. he has himself recorded that, as soon as he was convinced that he could never become a distinguished soldier, he asked himself whether he might not become a famous saint like dominic or francis, and that the question arose from no spiritual promptings, but simply from the determination to win fame before his death. as he lay bedridden, thinking much and dreaming more, it suddenly occurred to him that no one could become a saint unless he lived very near god, and that his life had not been of such a kind. he at once resolved that he would change; he would feed on herbs like a holy hermit; he would go to jerusalem as a devout pilgrim. this vow, he tells us, was the earliest conscious movement of his soul towards god. his reward came soon in the shape of his first revelation. the blessed virgin, with the child jesus in her arms, appeared to him in a dream. he awoke, hustled out of bed, dragged himself to the small window of his turret-room, and looked out. the earth was dark, an obscure mingling of black shadows; the heavens were a great vault of deepest blue strewn with innumerable stars. the sight was a parable and an inspiration. "how dull earth is," he cried, "how glorious heaven!" he felt that he must _do_ something to get nearer god. he must be alone in some holy place to think things out with his own soul. his brother's servants hoisted the maimed body of the once brilliant soldier on an ass, one foot in a boot, the wounded leg still swathed in bandages and its foot in a large soft slipper, and iñigo left the old castle determined to live a hermit's life on montserrat, the holy hill of aragon. there in the church of our lady of montserrat he resolved to dedicate himself to her service with all the ceremonies prescribed in that masterbook of mediæval chivalry, amadis of gaul. he hung his arms on her altar, and throughout the long night, standing or kneeling, he kept his watch, consecrating his knightly service to the blessed virgin. at daybreak he donned an anchorite's dress, gave his knightly robes to the first beggar he met, and, mounted on his ass, betook himself to the dominican convent of manresa, no longer iñigo recalde de loyola, but simply ignatius. at manresa he practised the strictest asceticism, hoping to become in heart and soul fitted for the saint life he wished to live. then began a time of unexpected, sore and prolonged spiritual conflict, not unlike what luther experienced in the erfurt convent. who was he and what had been his past life that he should presumptuously think that god would ever accept him and number him among his saints? he made unwearied use of all the mediæval means of grace; he exhausted the resources of the confessional; he consulted one spiritual guide after another without experiencing any relief to the doubts which were gnawing at his soul. the whole machinery of the church helped him as little as it had luther: it could not give peace of conscience. he has placed on record that the only real help he received during this prolonged period of mental agony came from an old woman. confession, instead of soothing him, rather plunged him into a sea of intolerable doubt. to make his penitence thorough, to know himself as he really was, he wrote out his confession that he might see his sins staring at him from the written page. he fasted till his life was in danger; he prayed seven times and scourged himself thrice daily, but found no peace. he tells us that he often shrieked aloud to god, crying that he must himself help him, for no creature could bring him comfort. no task would be too great for him, he exclaimed, if he could only see god. "show me, o lord, where i can find thee; i will follow like a dog, if i can only learn the way of salvation." his anguish prompted him to suicide. more than once, he says, he opened his window with the intention of casting himself down headlong and ending his life then and there; but the fear of his sins and their consequences restrained him. he had read of a saint who had vowed to fast until he had been vouchsafed the beatific vision, so he communicated at the altar and fasted for a whole week; but all ended in vanity and vexation of spirit. then, with the sudden certainty of a revelation, he resolved to throw himself on the mercy of god, whose long-suffering pity would pardon his sins. this was the crisis. peace came at last, and his new spiritual life began. he thought no longer about his past; he no longer mentioned former sins in his confessions; the certainty of pardon had begun a new life within him; he could start afresh. it is impossible to read his statements without being struck with the similarity between the spiritual experience of ignatius and what luther calls justification by faith; the words used by the two great religious leaders were different, but the experience of pardon won by throwing one's self upon the mercy of god was the same. this new spiritual life was, as in luther's case, one of overflowing gladness. meditation and introspection, once a source of anguish, became the spring of overpowering joy. ignatius felt that he was making progress. "god," he says, "dealt with me as a teacher with a scholar; i cannot doubt that he had always been with me." many historical critics from ranke downwards have been struck with the likeness of the experience gone through by luther and ignatius. one great contrast manifested itself at once. the humble-minded and quiet german, when the new life awoke in him, set himself unostentatiously to do the common tasks which daily life brought; the fiery and ambitious spaniard at once tried to conquer all mysteries, to take them by assault as if they were a beleaguered fortress. he had his visions as before, but they were no longer temptations of satan, the source of doubt and torture. he believed that he could actually see with bodily eyes divine mysteries which the intelligence could not comprehend. after lengthened prayer, every faculty concentrated in one prolonged gaze, he felt assured that he could _see_ the mystery of transubstantiation actually taking place. at the supreme moment he saw christ in the form of a white ray pass into the consecrated bread and transform it into the divine victim (host). he declared that in moods of exaltation the most impenetrable mysteries of theology, the incarnation of our lord, the holy trinity, the personality of satan, were translated into visible symbols which made them plainly understood. these visions so fascinated him, that he began to write them down in simple fashion for his own satisfaction and edification. in all this the student of the religious life of spain during the sixteenth century will recognise the mystical devotion which was then characteristic of the people of the peninsula. the spanish character, whether we study it in the romances of chivalry which the land produced, or in the writing of her religious guides, was impregnated by enthusiasm. it was passionate, exalted, entirely penetrated and possessed by the emotion which for the time dominated it. in no country were the national and religious sentiment so thoroughly fused and united. the long wars with the moors, and their successful issue in the conquest of grenada, had made religion and patriotism one and the same thing. priests invariably accompanied troops on the march, and went into battle with them. st. james of compostella was believed to traverse the country to bring continual succour to the soldiers who charged the moors invoking his name. a victory was celebrated by a solemn procession in honour of god and of the virgin, who had delivered the enemy into the hands of the faithful. this intensity of the spanish character, this temperament distinguished by force rather than moderation, easily gave birth to superstition and burning devotion, and both furnished a fruitful soil for the extravagances of mysticism, which affected every class in society. statesmen like ximenes, no less than the common people, were influenced by the exhortations or predictions of the _beatæ_,--women who had devoted themselves to a religious life without formally entering into a convent,--and changed their policy in consequence. it was universally believed that such devotees, men and women, could be illuminated divinely, and could attain to a state of familiar intercourse with god, if not to an actual union with him, by giving themselves to prayer, by abstinence from all worldly thoughts and actions, and by practising the most rigid asceticism. it was held that those who had attained to this state of mystical union received in dreams, trances, and ecstasies, visions of the divine mysteries. the heads of the spanish inquisition viewed this mysticism, so characteristic of the peninsula, with grave anxiety. the thought that ardent believers could by any personal process attain direct intercourse, even union with god, apart from the ordinary machinery of the church, cut at the roots of the mediæval penitential system, which always presupposed that a priestly mediation was required. if god can be met in the silence of the believer's soul, where is the need for the priest, who, according to mediæval ideas, must always stand between the penitent and god, and by his action take the hand of faith and lay it in the hand of the divine omnipotence? other dangers appeared. the mystic professed to draw his knowledge of divine things directly from the same source as the church, and his revelations had the same authority. it is true that most of the spanish mystics, like st. teresa, had humility enough to place themselves under ecclesiastical direction, but this was not the case with all. some prophets and prophetesses declared themselves to be independent, and these _illuminati_, as they were called, spread disaffection and heresy. hence the attitude of the inquisition towards mystics of all kinds was one of suspicious watchfulness. st. teresa, st. juan de la cruz, ignatius himself, were all objects of distrust, and did not win ecclesiastical approbation until after long series of tribulations. it is necessary to insist on the fact that ignatius had a deeply rooted connection with the spanish mystics. his visions, his methods, the _spiritual exercises_ themselves, cannot be understood apart from their intimate relations to that mysticism which was characteristic of the religion of his land and of his age. ignatius was no ordinary mystic, however. what seemed the whole or the end to teresa or osuna was to him only a part, or the means to something better. while he received and rejoiced in the visions vouchsafed to him, he practised the keenest introspection. he observed and analysed the moods and states of mind in which the visions came most readily or the reverse, and made a note of them all. he noted the postures and gestures of the body which helped or hindered the reception of visions or profitable meditation on what had been revealed. he saw that he could reproduce or at least facilitate the return of his visions by training and mastering his mind and body, and by subjecting them to a spiritual drill which might be compared with the exercises used to train a soldier in the art of war. out of these visions, introspections, comparisons, experiments experienced in solitude at manresa, came by long process of gradual growth and elaboration the famous _spiritual exercises_, which may be called the soul of the counter-reformation, as luther's book on _the liberty of the christian man_ contains the essence of protestantism. ignatius spent nearly a year at manresa. he had accomplished his object--to find himself at peace with god. it remained to fulfil his vow of pilgrimage. he laid aside his hermit's garb, and with it his ascetic practices; but he believed it to be his duty to renounce all property and live absolutely poor. he left all the money he possessed upon a bench and walked to barcelona, supporting himself by begging. there he was given a passage to venice, and thence he sailed for the holy land. his enthusiasm, and above all his project for beginning a mission among the turks, alarmed the chief of the franciscans in jerusalem, who insisted on shipping him back to italy. he reached barcelona determined to pursue such studies as would enable him to know theology. he had never learned latin, the gateway to all theological learning, and the man of thirty entered school, and seated himself on the bench with boys. thence he went to alcala and to salamanca, and attended classes in these towns. before he had quitted manresa he had begun to speak to others about his visions, and to persuade them to submit themselves to the spiritual drill of his _exercises_. some ladies in barcelona had become his devoted disciples. at alcala and salamanca he had tried to make converts to his system. the ecclesiastical authorities of the districts, fearing that this was a new kind of dangerous mysticism, seized him, and he was twice incarcerated in the episcopal inquisition. it would probably have fared ill with him had it not been for the intercession of some of the distinguished ladies who had been his disciples. his imprisonment in both cases was short, but he was forbidden to discriminate between mortal and venial sins (a thing essential if he acted as a spiritual director) until he had studied theology for four years. § . _ignatius at paris._ with prompt military obedience ignatius decided to study at paris. he reached the city in the beginning of , driving an ass laden with his books and clothes. he went naturally to the college montaigu, which under its principal, noël béda, was the most orthodox in paris; but with his well known determination to see and judge everything for himself, he soon afterwards obtained leave to reside in the college ste. barbe, one of the most liberal, in which george buchanan was then a regent.[ ] his sojourn in paris could not fail to make a deep impression on the middle-aged spaniard, consumed with zeal to maintain in its minutest details the old religion, and to destroy heresy and disobedience. two passions possessed him, both eminently spanish. he could say with st. teresa that he suffered so much to see the lutherans, whose baptism had rendered them members of the church, lose themselves unhappily, that had he several lives he would willingly give them to deliver only one of them from the horrible torments which awaited them; but he also believed that it was for god a point of honour to avenge himself on those who despised his word, and that it belonged to all the faithful to be instruments of the vengeance of the almighty. his keen practical nature grasped the religious situation in paris (city and university), and suggested his lifework. he saw the strength of the roman catholic democracy face to face with the reformation, and to what power it might grow if it were only organised and subjected to a more than military discipline. ignatius was in paris during the years when partisan feelings ran riot. francis i. was by taste and training a man of the renaissance. it pleased him to be called and to imagine himself to be the patron of men of letters. he was as devoted as his selfish, sensual nature permitted him to be, to his sister marguerite d'angoulême, and for her sake countenanced such reformers as lefèvre and the "group of meaux." he had a grudge against the sorbonne and the _parlement_ of paris for their attempts to baffle the concordat of ; while he recognised the power which these two formidable associations possessed. he was an anti-sorbonnist, who feared the sorbonne (the great theological faculty of the university of paris), and could not help displaying his dread. he had long dreamed of instituting a _collége de france_, a free association of learned teachers, men who could introduce the new learning and form a counterpoise to the sorbonne which dominated the university. the project took many forms, and never came to full fruition until long after the days of francis; but the beginnings were sufficient to encourage reformers and to irritate to fury the supporters of the sorbonne. the theological faculty of the university was then ruled by noël béda, a man of no great intellectual capacity, who hated everything which seemed to menace mediævalism. béda, by his dogged courage, by his unflinching determination, by his intense conviction that he was in the right, was able to wage a pitiless warfare against the new learning and every appearance of religious reform. he was able to thwart the king repeatedly, and more than once to attack him through marguerite, his sister. his whole attitude and activity made him a forerunner of the romanist league of two generations later, and, like the leaguers, he based his power on organising the romanist fanaticism lying in the populace of paris and among the students of the sorbonne. all this loyola saw under his eyes during his stay in paris. he heard the students of the sorbonne singing their ferocious song: "prions tons le roi de gloire qu'il confonde ces chiens mauldicts, afin qu'il n'en soit plus mémoire, non plus que de vielz os pourris. au feu, au feu! c'est leur repére fais-en justice! dieu l'a permys"; and the defiant answer: "la sorbonne, la bigotte, la sorbonne se taira! son grand hoste, l'aristote, de la bande s'ostera! et son escot, quoi qu'il coste, jamais ne la soûlera! la sorbonne, la bigotte, la sorbonne se taira! la saincte escriture toute purement se preschera, et toute doctrine sotte des hommes on oublîra! la sorbonne, la bigotte, la sorbonne se taira!"[ ] amidst this seething crowd of warring students and teachers, ignatius went, silent, watchful, observing everything. he cared little for theological speculation, being a true and typical spaniard. the doctrines of the mediæval theology were simply military commands to his disciplined mind; things to be submitted to whether understood or not. heresy was mutiny in the ranks. he had a marvellous natural capacity for penetrating the souls of others, and had cultivated and strengthened it by his habits of daily introspection and of writing down whatever, good or bad, passed through his own soul. it is told of him that in company he talked little, but quietly noted what others said, and that he had infinite genius for observing and storing details.[ ] he sought to learn the conditions of life and thought outside paris and france, and made journeys to the low countries and to england, saying little, thinking much, observing more. all the time he was winning the confidence of fellow-students, and taking infinite pains to do so--weighing and testing their character and gifts. he played billiards with some, paid the college expenses of others, and was slowly, patiently making his selection of the young men whom he thought fit to be the confidants of his plans for the regeneration of christendom, and to be associates with him in the discipline which the _exercises_ gave to his own soul.[ ] he finally chose a little band of nine disciples--peter faber, diego lainez, francis xavier, alonzo salmeron, nicholas boabdilla, simon rodriguez, paul broet, claude jay, and jean codure. codure died early. faber, the first selected, was a savoyard, the son of a poor peasant, with the unbending will and fervent spiritual imagination of a highlander. no one of the band was more devoted to his leader. francis xavier belonged, like loyola himself, to an ancient basque family; none was harder to win than this proud young spaniard. lainez and salmeron were castilians, who had been fellow-students with ignatius at alcala. lainez had always been a prodigy of learning, "a young man with the brain of an ancient sage." he, too, had been hard to win, for his was not a nature to kindle easily; but once subdued he was the most important member of the band. salmeron, his early companion, was as impetuous and fiery as lainez was cool and logical. he was the eloquent preacher of the company. boabdilla, also a spaniard, was a man of restless energy, who needed the strictest discipline to make him keep touch with his brothers. rodriguez, a portuguese, and jay, from geneva, were young men of insinuating manners, and were the destined diplomatists of the little company. broet, a phlegmatic netherlander among these fiery southerners, endeared himself to all of them by his sweet purity of soul. such were the men whom ignatius gathered together on the feast of the ascension of mary in in the church of st. mary of montmartre, then outside the walls of paris. there they vowed that if no insuperable difficulty prevented, they would go together to palestine to work for the good of mankind. if this became impossible, they would ask the pope to absolve them from their vow and betake themselves to whatever work for the good of souls his holiness directed them to do. no order was founded; no vows of poverty and obedience were taken; the young men were a band of students who looked on each other as brothers, and who promised to leave family and friends, and, "without superfluous money," work together for a regeneration of the church. faber, already in priest's orders, celebrated mass; the company dined together at st. denys. such was the quiet beginning of what grew to be the society of jesus. the companions parted for a season to meet again at venice. § . _the spiritual exercises._ all the nine associates had submitted themselves to the spiritual guidance of ignatius, and had all been subjected to the training contained in the _exercitia spiritualia_. it is probable that this manual of military drill for the soul had not been perfected at the date of the meeting at montmartre ( ), for we know that loyola worked at it from on to , when it was approved by pope paul iii.; but it may be well at this stage to give some account of this marvellous book, which was destined to have such important results for the counter-reformation.[ ] the thought that the spiritual senses and faculties might be strengthened and stimulated by the continuous repetition of a prescribed course of prayer and meditation, was not a new one. the german mystics of the fourteenth century, to name no others, had put their converts through such a discipline, and the practice was not unusual among the dominicans. it is most likely that a book of this kind, the _exercitatorio dela vida spirital_ of garcia de cisneros, abbot of the monastery of montserrat ( ), had been studied by ignatius while he was at manresa. but this detracts nothing from the striking and unique originality of the _exercitia spiritualia_, they stand alone in plan, contents, and intended result.[ ] they were the outcome of loyola's protracted spiritual struggles, and of his cool introspection of his own soul during these months of doubt and anguish. their evident intention is to guide the soul through the long series of experiences which loyola had endured unaided, and to lead it to the peace which he had found. it is universally admitted that ignatius had always before him the conception of military drill. he wished to discipline the soul as the drill-sergeant moulds the body. the _exercises_ are not closet-rules for solitary believers seeking to rise to communion with god by a ladder of meditation. a guide was indispensable, _the master of the exercises_, who had himself conquered all the intricacies of the method, and who, besides, must have as intimate a knowledge as it was possible to acquire of the details of the spiritual strength and weakness of his pupil. it was the easier to have this knowledge, as the disciple must be more than half won before he is invited to pass through the drill. he must have submitted to one of the fathers in confession; he must be made to understand the absolute necessity of abandoning himself to the exercises with his whole heart and soul; he must promise absolute submission to the orders of the director; he must by frequent confession reveal the recesses of his soul, and describe the most trivial thoughts which flit through it; above all, he must enter on his prolonged task in a state of the liveliest expectation of the benefits to be derived from his faithful performance of the prescribed exercises.[ ] a large, though strictly limited, discretion is permitted to the _master of the exercises_ in the details of the training he insists upon. the course of drill extends over four weeks[ ] (twenty-five days). it includes prolonged and detailed meditations on four great subjects:--sin and conscience; the earthly kingdom of christ; the passion of jesus; and the love of god with the glory of the risen lord.[ ] during all this time the pupil must live in absolute solitude. neither sight nor sound from the world of life and action must be allowed to enter and disturb him. he is exhorted to purge his mind of every thought but the meditation on which he is engaged; to exert all his strength to make his introspection vivid and his converse with the deity unimpeded. true meditation, according to ignatius, ought to include four things--a preparatory prayer; _præludia_, or the ways of attuning the mind and sense in order to bring methodically and vividly some past historical scene or embodiment of doctrine before the soul of the pupil; _puncta_, or definite heads of each meditation on which the thoughts are to be concentrated, and on which memory, intellect, and will are to be individually exercised; _colloquia_, or ecstatic converse with god, without which no meditation is supposed to be complete, and in which the pupil, having placed the crucifix before him, talks to god and hears his voice answering him. when the soul's progress on the long spiritual journey in which it is led during these meditations is studied, one can scarcely fail to note the crass materialism which envelops it at every step. the pupil is required to _see_ in the mirror of his imagination the boundless flames of hell, and souls encased in burning bodies; to _hear_ the shrieks, howlings, and blasphemies; to _smell_ the sulphur and intolerable stench; to _taste_ the saltness of the tears, and to _feel_ the scorching touch of the flames.[ ] when the scene in the garden of gethsemane is the subject of meditation, he must have in the _camera obscura_ of his imagination a garden, large or small, see its enclosing walls, gaze and gaze till he discerns where christ is, where the apostles sleep, perceive the drops of sweat, touch the clothes of our lord.[ ] when he thinks of the nativity, he must conjure up the figures of joseph, mary, the child, _and a maid-servant_, hear their homely family talk, see them going about their ordinary work.[ ] the same crass materialism envelops the meditations about doctrinal mysteries. thinking upon the incarnation is almost childishly limited to picturing the three persons of the trinity contemplating the broad surface of the earth and men hurrying to destruction, then resolving that the second is to descend to save; and to the interview between the angel gabriel and the virgin.[ ] a second characteristic of this scheme of meditation is the extremely limited extent of its sphere. the attention is confined to a few scenes in the life of our lord and of the virgin. no lessons from the old testament are admitted. all theological speculation is strictly excluded. what is aimed at is to produce an intense and concentrated impression which can never be effaced while life lasts. the soul is alternately torn by terror and soothed by the vision of heavenly delights. "the designed effect was to produce a vivid and varied hypnotic dream of twenty-five days, from the influence of which a man should never wholly free himself."[ ] the outstanding feature, however, of the _exercises_ and of the _directory_ is the minute knowledge they display of the bodily conditions and accompaniments of states of spiritual ecstasy, and the continuous, not to say unscrupulous, use they make of physical means to create spiritual abandon. they master the soul by manipulating the body. not that self-examination, honest and careful recognition of sins and weaknesses in presence of temptation, have no place in the prolonged course of discipline. this is inculcated with instructions which serve to make it detailed, intense, almost scientific. the pupil is ordered to examine himself twice a day, in the afternoon and in the evening, and to make clear to himself every sin and failure that has marked his day's life. he is taught to enter them all, day by day, in a register, which will show him and his confessor his moral condition with arithmetical accuracy. but during his own period of spiritual struggle and depression at manresa, ignatius, in spite of the mental anguish which tore his soul, had been noting the bodily accompaniments of his spiritual states; and he pursued the same course of introspection when rejoicing in the later visions of god and of his grace. the _exercises_ and the _directory_ are full of minute directions about the physical conditions which ignatius had found by experience to be the most suitable for the different subjects of meditation. the old buddhist devotee was instructed to set himself in a spiritual trance by the simple hypnotic process of gazing at his own navel; the ignatian directions are much more complex. the glare of day, the uncertainty of twilight, the darkness of night are all pressed into service; some subjects are to be pondered standing upright motionless, others while walking to and fro in the cell, when seated, when kneeling, when stretched prone on the floor; some ought to be meditated upon while the body is weak with fasting, others soon after meals; special hours, the morning, the evening, the middle of the night, are noted as the most profitable times for different meditations, and these vary with the age and sex of the disciple. ignatius recognises the infinite variety that there is in man, and says expressly that general rules will not fit every case. the _master of exercises_ is therefore enjoined to study the various idiosyncrasies of his patients, and vary his discipline to suit their mental and physical conditions. it is due chiefly to this use of the conditions of the body acting upon the mind that ignatius was able to promise to his followers that the ecstasies which had been hitherto the peculiar privilege of a few favoured saints should become theirs. the reformation had made the world democratic; and the counter-reformation invited the mob to share the raptures and the visions of a st. catherine or a st. teresa. the combination of a clear recognition of the fact that physical condition may account for much in so-called spiritual moods with the use made of it to create or stimulate these moods, cannot fail to suggest questions. it is easy to understand the mystic, who, ignorant of the mysterious ways in which the soul is acted upon by the body, may rejoice in ecstasies and trances which have been stimulated by sleepless nights and a prolonged course of fasting. it is not difficult to understand the man who, when he has been taught, casts aside with disdain all this juggling with the soul through the body. but it is hard to see how anyone who perceived with fatal clearness the working of the machinery should ever come to think that real piety could be created in such mechanical ways. to believe with some that the object ignatius had was simply to enslave mankind, to conquer their souls as a great military leader might master their lives, is both impossible and intolerable. no one can read the correspondence of loyola without seeing that the man was a devout and earnest-minded christian, and that he longed to bring about a real moral reformation among his contemporaries. perhaps the key to the difficulty is given when it is remembered that ignatius never thought that the raptures and the terrors his course of exercises produced were an end in themselves, as did the earlier mystics. they were only a means to what followed. ignatius believed with heart and soul that the essence of all true religion was the blindest submission to what he called the "true spouse of christ and our holy mother, which is the orthodox, catholic, and hierarchical church." we have heard him during his time of anguish at manresa exclaim, "show me, o lord, where i can find thee; i will follow like a dog, if i only learn the way of salvation!" he fulfilled his vow to the letter. he never entered into the meaning of our lord's saying, "henceforth i call you not servants ... but friends"; he had no understanding of what st. paul calls "reasonable service" (=logikê latreia=). the only obedience he knew was unreasoning submission, the obedience of a dog. his most imperative duty, he believed, lay in the resignation of his intelligence and will to ecclesiastical guidance in blind obedience to the church. it is sometimes forgotten how far ignatius carried this. it is not that he lays upon all christians the duty of upholding every portion of the mediæval creed, of mediæval customs, institutions, and superstitions; or that the philosophy of st. thomas of bonaventura, of the master of the sentences, and of "other recent theologians," is to be held as authoritative as that of holy writ;[ ] but "if the church pronounces a thing which seems to us white to be black, we must immediately say that it is black."[ ] this was for him the end of all perfection; and he found no better instrument to produce it than the prolonged hypnotic trance which the _exercises_ caused. § . _ignatius in italy._ in the beginning of the ten associates found themselves together at venice. a war between that republic and the turks made it difficult for them to think of embarking for palestine; and they remained, finding solace in intercourse with men who were longing for a moral regeneration of the church. contarini did much for them; vittoria colonna had the greatest sympathy with their projects; caraffa only looked at them coldly. the mind of ignatius was then full of schemes for improving the moral tone of society and of the church--daily prayer in the village churches, games of chance forbidden by law; priests' concubines forbidden to dress as honest women did, etc.;--all of which things contarini and vittoria had at heart. after a brief stay in venice, ignatius, lainez, and faber travelled to rome, and were joined there by the others in easter week ( ). no pontiff was so accessible as paul iii., and the three had an audience, in which they explained their missionary projects. but this journey through italy had evidently given ignatius and his companions new ideas. the pilgrimage to palestine was definitely abandoned, the money which had been collected for the voyage was returned to the donors, and the associates took possession of a deserted convent near vicenza to talk over their future. this conference may be called the second stage in the formation of the order. they all agreed to adopt a few simple rules of life--they were to support themselves by begging; they were to go two by two, and one was always to act as the servant for the time being of the other; they were to lodge in public hospitals in order to be ready to care for the sick; and they pledged themselves that their chief work would be to preach to those who did not go to church, and to teach the young. the italian towns speedily saw in their midst a new kind of preachers, who had caught the habits of the well-known popular _improvisatori_. they stood on the kerb-stones at the corners of streets; they waved their hats; they called aloud to the passers-by. when a small crowd was gathered they began their sermons. they did not preach theology. they spoke of the simple commands of god set forth in the ten commandments, and insisted that all sins were followed by punishment here or hereafter. they set forth the prescriptions of the church. they described the pains of hell and the joys of heaven. the crowds who gathered could only partially understand the quaint mixture of italian and spanish which they heard. but throughout the middle ages the italian populace had always been easily affected by impassioned religious appeals, and the companions created something like a revival among the masses of the towns. it was this experience which made ignatius decide upon founding a _company of jesus_. it was the age of military companies in italy, and the mind of ignatius always responded to anything which suggested a soldier's life, other orders might take the names of their founders; he resolved that his personality should be absorbed in that of his crucified lord. the thought of a new order commended itself to his nine companions. they left their preaching, journeyed by various paths to rome, each of them meditating on the constitution which was to be drafted and presented to the pope. the associates speedily settled the outlines of their constitution. cardinal contarini, ever the friend of loyola, formally introduced them to the pope. in audience, ignatius explained his projects, presented the draft constitution of the proposed new order, showed how it was to be a militia vowed to perpetual warfare against all the enemies of the papacy, and that one of the vows to be taken was: "that the members will consecrate their lives to the continual service of christ and of the popes, will fight under the banner of the cross, and will serve the lord and the roman pontiff as god's vicar upon earth, in such wise that they shall be bound to execute immediately and without hesitation or excuse all that the reigning pontiff or his successors may enjoin upon them for the profit of souls or for the propagation of the faith, and shall do so in all provinces whithersoever he may send them, among turks or any other infidels, to the farthest ind, as well as in the region of heretics, schismatics, or unbelievers of any kind." paul iii. was impressed with the support that the proposed order would bring to the papacy in its time of stress. he is reported to have said that he recognised the spirit of god in the proposals laid before him, and he knew that the associates were popular all over italy and among the people of rome. but all such schemes had to be referred to a commission of three cardinals to report before formal sanction could be given. then loyola's troubles began. the astute politicians who guided the counsels of the vatican were suspicious of the movement. they had no great liking for spanish mysticism organised as a fighting force; they disliked the enormous powers to be placed in the hands of the general of the "company"; they believed that the church had suffered from the multiplication of orders; eight months elapsed before all these difficulties were got rid of. ignatius has placed on record that they were the hardest months in his life. during their prolonged audience paul iii. had recognised the splendid erudition of lainez and faber. he engaged them, and somewhat later salmeron, as teachers of theology in the roman university, where they won golden opinions. ignatius meanwhile busied himself in perfecting his _exercises_, in explaining them to influential persons, and in inducing many to try their effect upon their own souls. contarini begged for and received a ms. copy. dr. ortiz, the ambassador of charles v. at rome, submitted himself to the discipline, and became an enthusiastic supporter. "it was then," says ignatius, "that i first won the favour and respect of learned and influential men." but the opposition was strong. the old accusations of heresy were revived. ignatius demanded and was admitted to a private audience of the pope. he has described the interview in one of his letters.[ ] he spoke with his holiness for more than an hour in his private room; he explained the views and intentions of himself and of his companions; he told how he had been accused of heresy several times in spain and at paris, how he had even been imprisoned at alcala and salamanca, and that in each case careful inquiry had established his innocence; he said he knew that men who wished to preach incurred a great responsibility before god and man, and that they must be free from every taint of erroneous doctrine; and he besought the pope to examine and test him thoroughly.[ ] on sept. th, , the bull _regimini militantis ecclesiæ_ was published, and the _company of jesus_ was founded. the student band of montmartre, the association of revivalist preachers of vicenza, became a new order, a holy militia pledged to fight for the papacy against all its assailants everywhere and at all costs. in the bull the members of the company were limited to sixty, whether as a concession to opponents or in accordance with the wishes of ignatius, is unknown. it might have been from the latter cause. in times of its greatest popularity the number of members of full standing has never been very large--not more than one per cent of those who bear the name.[ ] the limitation, from whatever motive it was inserted, was removed in a second bull, _injunctum nobis_, dated march th, . § . _the society of jesus._ on april th, , six out of the ten original members of the order (four were absent from rome) met to elect their general; three of those at a distance sent their votes in writing; ignatius was chosen unanimously. he declined the honour, and was again elected on april th. he gave way, and on april nd ( ) he received the vows of his associates in the church of _san paolo fuori le mura_. the new order became famous at once; numbers sought to join it; and ignatius found himself compelled to admit more members than he liked. he felt that the more his society increased in numbers and the wider its sphere of activity, the greater the need for a strict system of laws to govern it. all other orders of monks had their rules, which stated the duties of the members, the mode of their living together, and expressed the common sentiment which bound them to each other. the company of jesus, which from the first was intended to have a strict military discipline, and whose members were meant to be simply dependent units in a great machine moved by the man chosen to be their general, required such rules even more than any other. ignatius therefore set himself to work on a constitution. all we know of the first constitution presented by the ten original members when they had their audience with pope paul iii., is contained in the bull of foundation, and it is evident that it was somewhat vague. it did contain, however, four features, perhaps five, if the fourth vow of special obedience to the pope be included, which were new. the company was to be a fighting order, a holy militia; it was to work for the propagation of the faith, especially by the education of the young; the members were not to wear any special or distinctive dress; and the power placed in the hands of the general was much greater than that permitted to the heads of any other of the monastic orders. at the same time, constitutional limitations, resembling those in other orders, were placed on the power of the general. there was to be a council, consisting of a majority of the members, whom the general was ordered to consult on all important occasions; and in less weighty matters he was bound to take the advice of the brethren near him. proposed changes tending to free the general from these limitations were given effect to in the bulls, _licet debitum pastoralis officii_ (oct. th, ) and _exposcit pastoralis officii_ (july st, ); but the bulls themselves make it clear that the constitution had not taken final form even then. it is probable that the completed constitution drafted by ignatius was not given to the society until after his death. the way in which he went to work was characteristic of the man, at once sternly practical and wildly visionary. he first busied himself with arrangements for starting the educational work which the company had undertaken to do; he assorted the members of his society into various classes;[ ] and then he turned to the constitution. he asked four of his original companions, lainez, salmeron, broet, and jay, all of whom were in rome, to go carefully over all the promises which had been made to the pope, or what might be implied in them, and from this material to form a draft constitution. he gave them one direction only to guide them in their work: they were to see that nothing was set down which might imply that it was a deadly sin to alter the rules of the company in time to come. the fundamental aim of his company was different from that of all other orders. it was not to consist of societies of men who lived out of the world to save their own souls, as did the benedictines; nor was it established merely to be a preaching association, like the dominicans; it was more than a fraternity of love, like the franciscans. it was destined to aid fellow-men in every way possible; and by fellow-men ignatius meant the obedient children of the catholic hierarchical church. it was to fight the enemies of god's vicar upon earth with every weapon available. the rules of other orders could not help him much. he had to think all out for himself. during these months and years ignatius kept a diary, in which he entered as in a ledger his moods of mind, the thoughts that passed through it, the visions he saw, and the hours at which they came to him.[ ] every possible problem connected with the constitution of his company was pondered painfully. it took him a month's meditation ere he saw how to define the relation of the society to property. every solution came to him in a flash with the effect of a revelation, usually in the short hour before mass. once, he records, it took place "on the street as i returned from cardinal carpi." it was in this way that the constitution grew under his hands, and he believed that both it and the _exercises_ were founded on direct revelations from god. this was the constitution which was presented by lainez to the assembly which elected him the successor of loyola (july nd, ). the new general added a commentary or _directorium_ of his own, which was also accepted. it received papal sanction under pius iv. in this constitution the society of jesus was revealed as an elaborate hierarchy rising from novices through scholastics, coadjutors, professed of four vows, with the general at its head, an autocrat, controlling every part, even the minutest, of the great machine. nominally, he was bound by the constitution, but the inner principle of this elaborate system of laws was apparent fixity of type qualified by the utmost laxity in practice. the most stable principles of the constitution were explained or explained away in the _directorium_, and by such an elaborate labyrinth of exceptions that it proved no barrier to the will of the general. he stood with his hand on the lever, and could do as he pleased with the vast machine, which responded in all its parts to his slightest touch. he had almost unlimited power of "dispensing with formalities, freeing from obligations, shortening and lengthening the periods of initiation, retarding or advancing a member in his career." every member of the society was bound to obey his immediate superiors as if they stood for him in the place of christ, and that to the extent of doing what he considered wrong, of believing that black was white if the general so willed it. the general resided at rome, holding all the threads of the complicated affairs of the society in his hands, receiving minute reports of the secret and personal history of every one of its members, dealing as he pleased with the highest as well as the lowest of his subordinates. "yet the general of the jesuits, like the doge of venice, had his hands tied by subtly powerful though almost invisible fetters. he was subjected at every hour of the day and night to the surveillance of five sworn spies, especially appointed to prevent him from altering the type or neglecting the concerns of the order. the first of these functionaries, named the administrator, who was frequently also the confessor of the general, exhorted him to obedience, and reminded him that he must do all things for the glory of god. obedience and the glory of god, in jesuit phraseology, meant the maintenance of the company. the other four were styled assistants. they had under their charge the affairs of the chief provinces; one overseeing the indies, another portugal and spain, a third france and germany, a fourth italy and sicily. together with the administrator, the assistants were nominated by the general congregation (an assembly of the professed of the four vows), and could not be removed or replaced without its sanction. it was their duty to regulate the daily life of the general, to control his private expenditure on the scale which they determined, to prescribe what he should eat and drink, to appoint his hours for sleep, and religious exercises, and the transaction of public business.... the company of jesus was thus based upon a system of mutual and pervasive espionage. the novice on entering had all his acts, habits, and personal qualities registered. as he advanced in his career, he was surrounded by jealous brethren, who felt it their duty to report his slightest weakness to a superior. the superiors were watched by one another and by their inferiors. masses of secret information poured into the secret cabinet of the general; and the general himself ate, slept, prayed, worked, and moved beneath the fixed gaze of ten vigilant eyes."[ ] historians have not been slow to point out the evils which this society has wrought in the world, its purely political aims, the worldliness which deadened its spiritual life, and its degradation of morals, which had so much to do with sapping the ethical life of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. it is frequently said that the cool-headed lainez is responsible for most of the evil, and that a change may be dated from his generalship. there seems to be a wide gulf fixed between the mystic of manresa, the revival preacher of vicenza, the genuine home mission work in rome, and the astute, ruthless worldly political work of the society. yet almost all the changes may be traced back to one root, the conception which ignatius held of what was meant by true religion. it was for him, from first to last, an unreasoning, blind obedience to the dictates of the catholic hierarchic church. it was this which poisoned the very virtues which gave loyola's intentions their strength, and introduced an inhuman element from the start. he set out with the noble thought that he would work for the good of his fellow-men; but his idea of religion narrowed his horizon. his idea of "neighbour" never went beyond the thought of one who owed entire obedience to the roman pontiff--all others were as much outside the sphere of the brotherhood of mankind as the followers of mahomet were for the earliest crusaders. godfrey of bouillon was both devout and tender-hearted, yet when he rode, a conqueror, into jerusalem up the street filled with the corpses of slaughtered moslems, he saw a babe wriggling on the breast of its dead mother, and, stooping in his saddle, he seized it by the ankle and dashed its head against the wall. for ignatius, as for godfrey, all outside the catholic and hierarchic church were not men, but wolves. he was filled with the heroic conception that his company was to aid their fellow-men in every department of earthly life, and the political drove out all other considerations; for it contained the spheres within which the whole human life is lived. thus, while he preferred for himself the society of learned and devout men, his acute basque brain soon perceived their limitations, and the jesuit historian orlandino tells us that ignatius selected the members of his company from men who knew the world, and were of good social position. he forbade very rightly the follies of ascetic piety, when the discipline of the _exercises_ had been accomplished; it was only repeated when energies flagged or symptoms of insubordination appeared. then the general ordered a second course, as a physician sends a patient to the cure at some watering-place. the constitution directs that novices were to be sought among those who had a comely presence, with good memories, manageable tempers, quick observation, and free from all indiscreet devotion. the society formed to fight the renaissance as well as protestantism, borrowed from its enemy the thought of general culture, training every part of the mind and body, and rendering the possessor a man of the world. no one can read the letters of ignatius without seeing the fund of native tenderness that there was in the stern spanish soldier. that it was no mere sentiment appears in many ways, and in none more so than in his infinite pity for the crowds of fallen women in rome, and in his wise methods of rescue work. it was this tenderness which led him to his greatest mistake. he held that no one could be saved who was not brought to a state of abject obedience to the hierarchic church; that such obedience was the only soil in which true virtues could be planted and grow. he believed, moreover, that the way in which the "common man" could be thoroughly broken to this obedience was through the confessional and the directorate, and therefore that no one should be scared from confession or from trust in his director by undue severity. in his eagerness to secure these inestimable benefits for the largest number of men, he over and over again enjoined the members of his society to be very cautious in coming to the conclusion that any of their penitents was guilty of a mortal sin. such was the almost innocent beginning of that jesuit casuistry which in the end almost wiped out the possibility of anyone who professed obedience committing a mortal sin, and occasioned the profane description of father bauny, the famous french director--"bauny qui tollit peccata mundi per definitionem." the society thus organised became powerful almost at once. it made rapid progress in italy. lainez was sent to venice, and fought the slumbering protestantism there, at brescia, and in the val tellina. jay was sent to ferrara to counteract the influence of renée of france, its duchess. salmeron went to naples and sicily. the chief italian towns welcomed the members of the new order. noble and devout ladies gave their aid. colleges were opened; schools, where the education was not merely free, but superior to what was usually given, were soon crowded with pupils. rome remained the centre and stronghold of the company. portugal was won at once. xavier and rodriguez were sent there. they won over king john, and he speedily became their obedient pupil. he delivered into their hands his new university at coimbra, and the humanist teachers, george buchanan among them, were persecuted and dispersed, and replaced by jesuit professors. spain was more difficult to win. the land was the stronghold of the dominicans, and had been so for generations; and they were unwilling to admit any intruders. but the new order soon gained ground. it was native to the soil. it had its roots in that mysticism which pervaded the whole peninsula. ignatius gained one distinguished convert, francis borgia, duke of candia and viceroy of catalonia. he placed the university he had founded in their hands. he joined the order, and became the third general. his influence counterbalanced the suspicions of charles v., who had no liking for sworn bondmen of the vatican, and they soon laid firm hold on the people. in france their progress was slow. the university and the _parlement_ of paris opposed them, and the sorbonne made solemn pronouncement against their doctrine. still they were able to found colleges at st. omer, douai, and rheims. ignatius had his eye on germany from the first. he longed to combat heresy in the land of its birth. boabdilla, faber, and jay were sent there at once. boabdilla won the confidence of william, duke of bavaria; jay insinuated himself into the counsels of ferdinand of austria, and faber did the most important work of the three by winning for the society, petrus canisius. he was the son of a patrician of nymwegen, trained in humanist lore, drawn by inner sympathy to the christian mysticism of tauler, and yet steadfast in his adherence to the theology of the mediæval church. faber soon became conscious of his own deficiencies for the work to be done in germany. his first appearance was at the religious conference at worms, where he found himself face to face with calvin and melanchthon, and where his colleagues, eck and cochlæus, were rather ashamed of him. the enthusiastic savoyard lacked almost everything for the position into which, at the bidding of his general, he had thrust himself. since then he had been wandering through those portions of germany which had remained faithful to rome, seeking individual converts to the principles of the society, and above all some one who had the gifts for the work ignatius hoped to do in that country. it is somewhat interesting to note that almost all the german roman catholics who were attracted by him to the new order were men who had leanings towards the fourteenth century mystics--men like gerard hammond, prior of the carthusians of köln. faber caught canisius by means of his mysticism. he met him at mainz, explained the _exercitia spiritualia_ to him, induced the young man to undergo the course of discipline which they prescribed, and won him for loyola and the company. "he is the man," wrote faber to ignatius, "whom i have been seeking--if he is a man, and not rather an angel of the lord." ignatius speedily recognised the value of the new recruit. he saw that he was not a man to be kept long in the lower ranks of the company, and gave him more liberty of action than he allowed to his oldest associates. faber had sent him grievous reports about the condition of affairs in germany. "it is not misinterpretation of scripture," he wrote, "not specious arguments, not the lutherans with their preaching and persuasions, that have lost so many provinces and towns to the roman church, but the scandalous lives of the ministers of religion." he felt his helplessness. he was a foreigner, and the germans did not like strangers. he could not speak their language, and his latin gave him a very limited audience. people and priests looked on him as a spy sent to report their weaknesses to rome. when he discoursed about the _exercitia_, and endeavoured to induce men to try them, he was accused of urging a "new religion." when he attempted to form student associations in connection with the company, it was said that he was urging the formation of "conventicles" outside the church's ordinances. but the adhesion of canisius changed all that. he was a german, one of themselves; his orthodoxy was undisputed; he was an eminent scholar, the most distinguished of the young masters of the university of köln, a leader among its most promising students. under his guidance the student associations grew strong; after his example young men offered themselves for the discipline of the _exercises_. loyola saw that he had gained a powerful assistant. he longed to see him personally at rome; but he was so convinced of his practical wisdom that he left it to himself either to come to italy or to remain in germany. canisius decided to remain. affairs at köln were then in a critical state. the archbishop-elector, hermann von wied, favoured the reformation. he had thoughts of secularising his electorate, and if lie succeeded in his design his example might be followed in another ecclesiastical electorate, with the result that the next emperor would be a protestant. canisius organised the people, the clergy, the university authorities against this, and succeeded in defeating the designs of the archbishop. when his work at köln was done, he went to vienna. there he became the confessor and private adviser of ferdinand of austria, administered the affairs of the diocese of vienna during a long episcopal interregnum, helped to found its jesuit college, and another at ingolstadt. these colleges became the centres of jesuit influence in germany, and helped to spread the power of the society. but with all this activity it can scarcely be said that the company was very powerful in that country until years after the council of trent. the foreign mission activity of the jesuits has been often described, and much of the early progress of the company has been attributed to the admiration created by the work of francis xavier and his companions. this was undoubtedly true; but in the earliest times it was the home mission successes that drew most attention and sympathy; and these have been too often left unmentioned. nothing lay nearer the hearts of devout persons who refused to accept the reformation than the condition of the great proportion of the roman catholic priests in all countries, and the depravity of morals among laity and clergy alike. ignatius was deeply affected by both scandals, and had resolved from the first to do his best to cure them. it was this resolve and the accompanying strenuous endeavours which won ignatius the respect and sympathy of all those in italy who were sighing for a reform in the moral life of people and clergy, and brought the company of jesus into line with italian reformers like contarini, ghiberti, and vittoria colonna. his system of colleges and the whole use he made of education could have only one result--to give an educated clergy to the roman church. it was a democratic extension of the work of caraffa and gaetano da thiene. ignatius had also clear views about the way to produce a reformation of morals in rome. like luther, he insisted that it must begin in the individual life, and could not be produced by stringent legislation; "it must start in the individual, spread to the family, and then permeate the metropolis." but meanwhile something might be done to heal the worst running sores of society. like luther, ignatius fastened on three--the waste of child life, the plague of begging, and what is called the "social evil"; if his measure of success in dealing with the evils fell far short of luther's, the more corrupted condition of italy had something to do with his failure. his first measure of social reform was to gather roman children, either orphans or deserted by their parents. they were gratuitously housed, fed, and taught in a simple fashion, and were instructed in the various mechanical arts which could enable them to earn a living. in a brief time, ignatius had over two hundred boys and girls in his two industrial schools. how to cure the plague of beggars which infested all roman catholic countries, a curse for which the teaching of the mediæval church was largely responsible,[ ] had been a problem studied by ignatius ever since his brief visit to his native place in . there he had attempted to get the town council of azpeitia to forbid begging within the bounds of the city, and to support the deserving and helpless poor at the town's cost. he urged the same policy on the chief men in rome. when he failed in his large and public schemes, he attempted to work them out by means of charitable associations connected with and fostered by his society. nothing, however, excited the sympathy of loyola so much as the numbers and condition of fallen women in all the larger italian towns. he was first struck with it in venice, where he declared that he would willingly give his life to hinder a day's sin of one of these unfortunates. the magnitude of the evil in rome appalled him. he felt that it was too great for him to meddle with as a whole. something, however, he could attempt, and did. in rome, which swarmed with men vowed to celibacy simply because they had something to do with the church, prostitution was frequently concealed under the cloak of marriage. husbands lived by the sinful life of their wives. deserted wives also swelled the ranks of unfortunates. loyola provided homes for any such as might wish to leave their degrading life. at first they were simply taken into families whom ignatius persuaded to receive them. the numbers of the rescued grew so rapidly that special houses were needed. ignatius called them "martha-houses." they were in no sense convents. there was, of course, oversight, but the idea was to provide a bright home where these women could earn their own living or the greater part of it. the scheme spread to many of the large italian towns, and many ladies were enlisted in the plans to help their fallen sisters. loyola's associations to provide ransom for christian captives among the moslems, his attempts to discredit duelling, his institutions for loans to the poor, can only be alluded to. it was these works of christian charity which undoubtedly gained the immediate sympathy for the company which awaited it in most lands south of the alps. almost all earlier monastic orders provided a place for women among their organisation. an order of nuns corresponded to the order of monks. few founders of monastic orders have owed so much to women as ignatius did. a few ladies of barcelona were his earliest disciples, were the first to undergo the discipline of the _exercises_, then in an imperfect shape, and encouraged him when he needed it most by their faith in him and his plans.[ ] one of them, isabella roser (rosel, rosell), a noble matron, wife of juan roser, heard ignatius deliver one of his first sermons, and was so impressed by it, that she and her husband invited him to stay in their house, which he did. she paid all his expenses while he went to school and college in spain. she and her friends sent him large sums of money when he was in paris. ignatius could never have carried out his plans but for her sympathy and assistance. in spite of all this, ignatius came early to the conclusion that his company should have as little as possible to do with the direction of women's souls (it took so much time, he complained); that women were too emotional to endure the whole discipline of the _exercises_; and that there must never be jesuit nuns. the work he meant his company to do demanded such constant and strained activity--a jesuit must stand with only one foot on the ground, he said, the other must be raised ready to start wherever he was despatched--that women were unfit for it. that was his firm resolve, and he was to suffer for it. in he had written to isabella roser that he hoped god would forget him if he ever forgot all that she had done for him; and it is probable that some sentences (unintentional on the part of the writer) had made the lady, now a widow, believe that she was destined to play the part of clara to this francis. at all events ( ) she came to rome, accompanied by two friends bringing with them a large sum of money, sorely needed by ignatius to erect his house in rome for the professed of the four vows. in return, they asked him to give some time to advise them in spiritual things. this ignatius did, but not with the minuteness nor at the length expected. he declared that the guidance of the souls of the three ladies for three days cost him more than the oversight of his whole society for a month. then it appeared that isabella roser wanted more. she was a woman of noble gifts, no weak sentimental enthusiast. she had studied theology widely and profoundly. her learning and abilities impressed the cardinals whom she met and with whom she talked. she desired ignatius to create an order of jesuit nuns of whom she should be the head. when he refused there was a great quarrel. she demanded back the money she had given; and when this was refused, she raised an action in the roman courts. she lost her case, and returned indignant to spain.[ ] poor isabella roser--she was not a derelict, and so less interesting to a physician of souls; but she needed comforting like other people. she forgave her old friend, and their correspondence was renewed. she died the year before ignatius. when the society of jesus was at the height of its power in the seventeenth century, another and equally unsuccessful attempt was made to introduce an order of jesuit nuns. ignatius died at the age of sixty-five, thirty-five years after his conversion, and sixteen after his order had received the apostolic benediction. his company had become the most powerful force within the reanimated roman church; it had largely moulded the theology of trent; and it seemed to be winning back germany. it had spread in the swiftest fashion. ignatius had seen established twelve provinces--portugal, castile, aragon, andalusia, italy (lombardy and tuscany), naples, sicily, germany, flanders, france, brazil, and the east indies. chapter v. the council of trent.[ ] § . _the assembling of the council._ the general council, the subject of many negotiations between the emperor and the pope, was at last finally fixed to meet at trent in .[ ] the city was the capital of a small episcopal principality, its secular overlord was the count of the tyrol, whose deputy resided in the town. it was a frontier place with about a thousand houses, including four or five fine buildings and a large palace of the prince bishop. it contained several churches, one of which, santa maria maggiore, was reserved for the meetings of the council.[ ] its inhabitants were partly italian and partly german--the two nationalities living in separate quarters and retaining their distinctive customs and dress. it was a small place for such an assembly, and could not furnish adequate accommodation for the crowd of visitors a general council always involved. the papal legates entered trent in state on the th of march ( ). heavy showers of rain marred the impressive display. they were received by the local clergy with enthusiasm, and by the populace with an absolute indifference. months passed before the council was opened. few delegates were present when the papal legates arrived. the representatives of the emperor and those of venice came early; bishops arrived in straggling groups during april and may and the months that followed. the necessary papal brief did not reach the town till the th of december, and the council was formally opened on the th. the long leisurely opening was symptomatic of the history of the council. its proceedings were spread over a period of eighteen years:--under pope paul iii., - , including sessions i. to x.; under pope julius iii., - , including sessions xi. to xvi.; under pope pius iv., - , including sessions xvii. to xxv.[ ] the papal legates were gian maria giocchi, cardinal del monte, a tuscan who had early entered the service of the roman curia, a profound jurist and a choleric man of fifty-seven (_first_ president); marcello cervini, cardinal da santa croce; and cardinal reginald pole, the englishman. the three represented the three tendencies which were apparent in ecclesiastical italy. the first belonged to the party which stood by the old unreformed curia, and wished no change. cervini represented the growing section of the church, which regarded cardinal caraffa as their leader. they sought eagerly and earnestly a reform in life and character, especially among the clergy; but refused to make any concessions in doctrines, ceremonies, or institutions to the protestants. they differed from the more reforming spanish and french ecclesiastical leaders in their dislike of secular interference, and believed that the popes should have more rather than less power. reginald pole was one of those liberal roman catholics of whom cardinal contarini was the distinguished leader. he was made a legate probably to conciliate his associates. he was a man whom most people liked and nobody feared--a harmless, pliant tool in the hands of a diplomatist like cervini. the new society of jesus was represented by lainez and salmeron, who went to the council with the dignity of papal theologians--a title which gave them a special standing and influence. according to the arrangement come to between the emperor and the pope, the bull summoning the council declared that it was called for the three purposes of overcoming the religious schism; of reforming the church; and of calling a united christendom to a crusade against unbelievers. by general consent the work of the council was limited to the first two objects. they were stated in terms vague enough to cover real diversity of opinion about the work the council was expected to do. almost all believed that the questions of reforming the church and dealing with the religious revolt were inseparably connected; but the differences at once emerged when the method of treating the schism was discussed. many pious roman catholics believed that the lutheran movement was a divine punishment for the sins of the church, and that it would disappear if the church was thoroughly reformed in life and morals. they differed about the agency to be employed to effect the reformation. the italian party, who followed cardinal caraffa, maintained that full powers should be in the hands of the pope; non-italians, especially the spaniards, thought it vain to look for any such reformation so long as the curia, itself the seat of the greatest corruption, remained unreformed, and contended that the secular authority ought to be allowed more power to put down ecclesiastical scandals. the emperor, charles v., had come to believe that there were no insuperable differences of doctrine between the lutherans and the roman catholics, and that mutual explanations and a real desire to give and take, combined with the removal of scandals which all alike deplored, would heal the schism. he had never seen the gulf which the lutheran principle of the spiritual priesthood of all believers had created between the protestants and mediæval doctrines and ceremonies.[ ] he persisted in this belief long after the proceedings at trent had left him hopeless of seeing the reconciliation he had expected brought about by the council he had done so much to get summoned. the augsburg interim ( ) shows what he thought might have been done.[ ] he was badly seconded at trent. the only bishop who supported his views heartily was madruzzo, the prince bishop of trent; his representative, diego de mendoza, fell ill shortly after the opening of the council, and his substitute, francisco de toledo, did not reach trent until march . § . _procedure at the council._ tho ablest of the three legates, cervini, had a definite plan of procedure before him. he knew thoroughly the need for drastic reforms in the life and morals of the clergy and for purifying the roman curia; but, with the memories of basel and constance before him, he dreaded above all things a conflict between the pope and the council, and he believed that such a quarrel was imminent if the council itself undertook to reform the curia. his idea was that the council ought to employ itself in the useful, even necessary task of codifying the doctrines of the church, so that all men might discern easily what was the true catholic faith. while this was being done, opportunity would be given to the pope himself to reform the curia--a task which would be rendered easier by the consciousness that he had the sympathy of the council behind him. he scarcely concealed his opinion that such codification should make no concessions to the protestants, but would rather show them to be in hopeless antagonism to the catholic faith. he did not propose any general condemnation of what he thought to be lutheran errors; but he wished the separate points of doctrine which the lutherans had raised--justification, the authority of holy scripture, the sacraments--to be examined carefully and authoritatively defined. in this way heretics would be taught the error of their ways without mentioning names, and without the specific condemnation of individuals. he expounded his plan of procedure to the council. his suggestions were by no means universally well received by the delegates. the proposal to leave reforms to the pope provoked many speeches from the spanish bishops, full of bitter reproaches against the curia; and his conception of codifying the doctrines of the church with the avowed intention of irrevocably excluding the lutherans was by no means liked by many. a great debate took place on jan. th, which revealed to the legate that probably the majority of the delegates did not favour his proposed course of procedure. madruzzo, the eloquent prince bishop of trent, and a cardinal, made a long speech, in which he asserted that the council should not rashly take for granted that the lutherans were irreconcilable. they ought to acknowledge frankly that the corrupt morals of the mediæval clergy had done much to cause dissatisfaction and to justify revolt. let them therefore assume that these evils for which the church was responsible had produced the schism. let them invite the protestants to come among them as brethren. let them show to those men, who had no doubt erred in doctrine, that the catholic church was sincerely anxious to reform the abounding evils in life and morals, and, with this fraternal bond between them, let them reason amicably together about the doctrinal differences which now separated them. the eloquent and large-minded cardinal condensed the recommendations in his speech in one sentence: "cum corrupti mores ecclesiasticorum dederint occasionem lutheranis confingendi falsa dogmata, sublata causa, facilius tolletur effectus; subdens optimum fore, si protestantes ipsos amicabiliter et fraterne literis invitaremus, ut ipsi quoque ad synodum venirent, et se etiam reformari paterentur."[ ] we are told that this speech raised great enthusiasm among the delegates, and that the legates had some difficulty in preventing its proposal from being universally accepted. at the most they were able to prevent any definite conclusion being come to about the procedure at the close of the sitting. cervini saw that he could not get his way adopted. he agreed that proposals for reform and for the codification of doctrine should be discussed simultaneously, his knowledge of theological nature telling him that if he once got so many divines engaged in doctrinal discussions two things would surely follow: their eagerness would make them neglect everything else, and their polemical instincts would carry them beyond the point where a conciliation of the protestants required them to come to a halt. so it happened. the council found itself committed to a codification and definition of catholic doctrine. the suggestion of the bishop of feltre (thomas campeggio) was adopted, that the discussion of doctrines and the proposals for reform should be discussed by two separate commissions, whose reports should come before the synod alternately. the legates obtained a large majority for this course, and the protest of madruzzo was unavailing. the decision to attack the question of reform was very unacceptable to the pope. he went so far as to ask the legates to get it rescinded; but that was impossible, and he had to content himself with the assurances of cervini that no real harm would come of it. this important question being settled, the council decided upon the details of procedure. the whole synod was divided into three divisions or commissions, to each of which allotted work was given. each question was first of all to be prepared for the section by theologians and canonists, then discussed in the special commission to which it had been entrusted. if approved there, it was to be brought before a general congregation of the whole synod for discussion. if it passed this scrutiny, it was to be promulgated in a solemn session of the council. § . _restatement of doctrines._ it ought to be said, before describing the doctrinal labours of the council, that the work done at trent was not to give conciliar sanction to the whole mass of mediæval doctrinal tradition. there was a thorough revision of doctrinal positions in which a great deal of theology which had been current during the later middle ages was verbally rejected, and the rejection was most apparent in that scotist theology which had been popular before the reformation, and which had been most strongly attacked by luther. the scotist theology, with its theological scepticism, was largely repudiated in name at least--whether its spirit was banished is another question which has to be discussed later. a great many influences unknown during the later middle ages pressed consciously and unconsciously upon the divines assembled at trent and coloured their dogmatic work. although the avowed intention of the theologians there was to defeat both humanism and the reformation, they could not avoid being influenced by both movements. humanism had led many of them to study the earlier church fathers, and they could not escape augustine in doing so. they were led to him by many paths. the dominican theologians had begun, quite independently of the reformation, to study the great theologian of their order, and thomas had led them back to augustine. the reformation had laid stress on the doctrines of sin, of justification, and of predestination, and had therefore awakened a new interest in them and consequently in augustine. the new thomism, with augustinianism behind it, was a feature of the times, and was the strongest influence at work among the theologians who assembled at trent. it could not fail to make their doctrinal results take a very different form from the theology which luther was taught by john nathin in the erfurt convent. christian mysticism, too, had its revival, especially in spain and in italy, and among some of the reconstructed monastic orders. if it had small influence on the doctrines, it worked for a more spiritual conception of the church. what has been called curialism, the theory of the omnipotence of the pope in all things connected with the church's life, practice, and beliefs, was also a potent factor with some of the assembled fathers. but above all things the theologians who met at trent were influenced by the thought and fact of the lutheran reformation. this is apparent in the order in which they discussed theological questions, in the subjects they selected and in those they omitted. all these things help us to understand how the theology of the council of trent was something peculiar, something by itself, and different both from what may be vaguely called mediæval theology and from that of the modern church of rome.[ ] the council, in its third session, laid the basis of its doctrinal work by reaffirming the niceo-constantinopolitan creed with the _filioque_ clause added, and significantly called it: symbolum fidei quo sancta ecclesia _romana_ utitur. this done, it was ready to proceed with the codification and definition of doctrines. on the th of april , the commission which had to do with the preparation of the subject reported, and the council proceeded to discuss the sources of theological knowledge or the rule of faith. the influence of the reformation is clearly seen not merely in the priority assigned to this subject, but also in the statement that the "purity of the gospel" is involved in the decision come to. the opposition to protestantism was made emphatic by the council declaring these four things: it accepted as canonical all the books contained in the alexandrine canon (the septuagint), and therefore the apocrypha of the old testament, and did so heedless of the fact that the editor of the vulgate (afterwards pronounced authoritative), jerome, had thought very little of the apocrypha. the reformers, in their desire to go back to the earliest and purest sources, had pronounced in favour of the hebrew canon; the council, in spite of jerome, accepted the common mediæval tradition. it declared that in addition to the books of holy scripture, it "receives with an equal feeling of piety and reverence the traditions, whether relating to faith or to morals, dictated either orally by christ or by the holy spirit, and preserved in continuous succession within the catholic church."[ ] the practical effect of this declaration, something entirely novel, was to assert that there was within the church an infallibly correct mode of interpreting scripture, and to give the ecclesiastical authorities (whoever they might be) the means of warding off any protestant attack based upon holy scripture alone. the council were careful to avoid stating who were the guardians of this dogmatic tradition, but in the end it led by easily traced steps to the declaration of pope pius ix.: _io sono la tradizione_, and placed a decision of a pope speaking _ex cathedra_ on a level with the word of god. it proclaimed that the vulgate version contained the authoritative text of holy scripture. this was also new, and, moreover, in violent opposition to the best usages of the mediæval church. it cast aside as worse than useless the whole scholarship of the renaissance both within and outside of the mediæval church, and, on pretence of consecrating a text of holy scripture, reduced it to the state of a mummy, lifeless and unfruitful.[ ] it asserted that every faithful believer must accept the sense of scripture which the church teaches, that no one was to oppose the unanimous consensus of the fathers--and this without defining what the church is, or who are the fathers.[ ] the whole trend of this decision was to place the authoritative exposition of the scriptures in the hands of the pope, although at the time the council lacked the courage to say so. it must not be supposed that these decisions were reached without a good deal of discussion. some members of the council would have preferred the hebrew canon. nacchianti, bishop of chioggia, protested against placing traditions on the same level as holy scripture;[ ] some wished to distinguish between apostolical traditions and others; but the final decision of the council was carried by a large majority. the most serious conflict of opinion, however, arose about the clause which declared that the vulgate version was the only authoritative one. it was held that such a decision entailed the prohibition of using translations of the scripture in the mother tongue. the spanish bishops, in spite of the fact that translations of the scriptures into spanish had once been commonly used and their use encouraged, would have had all bible reading in the mother tongue prohibited. the germans protested. the debate waxed hot. madruzzo, of trent, eloquently declared that to prohibit the translation of the scriptures into german would be a public scandal. were children not to be taught the lord's prayer in a language they could understand? a bull of pope paul ii. was cited against him. he replied that popes had erred and were liable to err; but that the apostle paul had not erred, and that he had commanded the scriptures to be read by every one, and that this could not be done unless they were translated. a compromise was suggested, that each country should decide for itself whether it would have translations of the scriptures or not. in the end, however, the vulgate was proclaimed the only authentic word of god. in the fifth session (june th, ) and in the sixth session (jan. th, ) the council attacked the subjects of original sin and justification. the reformation had challenged the roman church to say whether it had any _spiritual_ religion at all, or was simply an institution claiming to possess a secret science of salvation through ceremonies which required little or no spiritual life on the part of priests or recipients. the challenge had to be met not merely on account of the protestants, but because devout romanists had declared that it must be done. the answer was given in the two doctrines of original sin and justification, as defined at the council of trent. they both deserve a much more detailed examination than space permits. the legates had felt that the council as constituted might come to decisions giving room for protestant doctrine, and pled with the pope to send them more italian bishops, whose votes might counteract the weight of northern opinion (june nd, ). they were extremely anxious about the way in which the council might deal with those two doctrines. the first, the definition of original sin, _seems_ to reject strongly that pelagianism or semi-pelagianism which had marked the later scholasticism which luther had been taught in the erfurt convent. it appears to rest on and to express the evangelical thoughts of augustine. but a careful examination shows that it is full of ambiguities--intentional loop-holes provided for the retention of the semi-pelagian modes of thought. space forbids our going over them all, but one example may be selected from the first chapter. it is there said that adam lost the holiness and righteousness _in which he had been constituted_. why not _created_? the phrase may mean created, and all the new thomists at the council doubtless read it in that way. by the fall man lost what thomas, following augustine, had called increated righteousness. but the phrase _in qua constitutus fucrat_ could easily be interpreted to mean that what man did lose were the superadded _dona supernaturalia_ whose loss in no way impaired human nature; and, if so interpreted, room is provided for pelagianism.[ ] again, while the augustinian doctrine of the fall seems to be taught, it is added that by original sin _liberum arbitrium_ is _minime extinctum viribus licet attenuatum_, which is semi-pelagian.[ ] the whole definition closes with a statement that it is not to be applied to the blessed virgin, the doctrine about whom has been expressed in the constitutions of pope sixtus iv. of happy memory.[ ] the statement of the doctrine of justification is a masterpiece of theological dexterity, and deserves much more consideration than can be given it. the whole treatment of the subject was the cause of considerable anxiety outside the council. on the one hand, the emperor charles v., who was greatly disappointed at the course taken by the council, and saw the chance of conciliating the protestants diminishing daily, wished to defer all discussion; while the pope, bent on making it impossible for the protestants to return, desired the council to define this important doctrine in such a way that none of the reformed could possibly accept it. the emperor's wishes were speedily overruled; but it was by no means easy for the legates to carry out the desires of the pope. there was a great deal of evangelical doctrine in the roman church which had to be reckoned with. so much existed that at one time it had actually been proposed at the vatican to approve of the first part of the augsburg confession in order to win the protestants over. the day for such proposals was past; but the new thomism was a power in the church, and perhaps the strongest _theological_ force at the council of trent, and had to be reckoned with. if the protestant conception of justification be treated merely as a doctrine,--which it is not, being really an experience deeper and wider than any form of words can contain,--if it be stated scholastically, then it is possible to express it in propositions which do not perceptibly differ from the doctrine of justification in the new thomist theology. at the conference at regensburg (ratisbon) in , contarini was able to draft a statement of the doctrine which commended itself to such opponents as calvin and eck.[ ] harnack has remarked that the real difference between the two doctrines appeared in this, that "just on account of the doctrine of justification the protestants combated as heretical the _usages_ of the roman church, while the augustinian thomists could not understand why it should be impossible to unite the two."[ ] but the similarity of statement shows the difficulty of the legates in guiding the council to frame a decree which would content the pope. they were able to accomplish this mainly through the dexterity of the jesuit lainez. the discussion showed how deeply the division ran. some theologians were prepared to accept the purely lutheran view that justification was by faith alone. they were in a small minority, and were noisily interrupted. one of them, thomas de san felicio, bishop of la cava, and a neapolitan, came to blows with a greek bishop. the debate then centred round the mediating view of the doctrine, which contarini had advocated in his _tractatus de justificatione_, and which may be said to represent the position of the new thomists. it seemed to commend itself to a majority of the delegates. the leader of the party was girolamo seripando ( - ), since the general of the augustinian eremites, the order to which luther had belonged.[ ] he distinguished between an imputed and an inherent righteousness, a distinction corresponding to that between prevenient and co-operating grace, and to some extent not unlike that between justification and sanctification in later protestant theology. in the former, the imputed righteousness of christ, lay the only hope for man; inherent righteousness was based upon the imputed, and was useless without it. the learning and candour of seripando were conspicuous; his pleading seemed about to carry the council with him, when lainez intervened to save the situation for the strictly papal party. the jesuit theologian accepted the distinction made between imputed and inherent righteousness; he even admitted that the former was alone efficacious in justification; but he alleged that in practice at least the two kinds of righteousness touched each other, and that it would be dangerous to practical theology to consider them as wholly distinct. his clear plausible reasoning had great effect, and the ambiguities of his address are reflected in the looseness of the definitions in the decree. the definition of the doctrine of justification which was adopted by the council is very lengthy. it contains sixteen chapters followed by thirty-three canons. it naturally divides into three divisions--chapters i.-ix. describing what justification is; chapters x.-xiii. the increase of justification; and chapters xiv.--xvi. the restoration of justification when it is lost. almost every chapter includes grave ambiguities. the first section is the most important. it begins with statements which are in themselves evangelical. all men have come under the power of sin, and are unable to deliver themselves either by their strength of nature or by the aid of the letter of the law of moses.[ ] our heavenly father sent his son and set him forth as the propitiator through faith in his blood for our sins.[ ] it is then said that all do not accept the benefits of christ's death, although he died for all, but only those to whom the merit of his passion is communicated; and this statement is followed by a rather confused sentence which suggests but commits no one to the augustinian doctrine of election.[ ] this is followed up by saying that justification is the translation from that condition in which man is born into a condition of grace through jesus christ our saviour; and it is added that this translation, in the gospel dispensation, does not happen apart from baptism or _the wish to be baptized_.[ ] in spite of some ambiguities, these first four chapters have quite an evangelical ring about them; but with the fifth a change begins. while some sentences seem to maintain the evangelical ideas previously stated, room is distinctly made for pelagian work-righteousness. it is said, for example, that justification is wrought through the _gratia præveniens_ or _vocatio_ in which adults are called apart from any merit of their own; but then it is added that the end of this calling is that sinners may be _disposed_, by god's inciting and aiding grace, to _convert themselves_ in order to their own justification by freely assenting to and co-operating with the grace of god.[ ] this was the suggestion of lainez. the good disposition into which sinners are to be brought is said to consist of several things, of which the first is faith--defined to be a belief that the contents of the divine revelation are true. in the two successive chapters faith is declared to be only the beginning of justification; and justification itself, in flat contradiction to what had been said previously, is no longer a translation from one state to another; it becomes the actual and gradual conversion of a sinner into a righteous man. it is scarcely necessary to pursue the definitions further. it is sufficient to say that the theologians of trent do not seem to have the faintest idea of what the reformers meant by faith, and never appear to see that there is such a thing as religious experience. the second and third sections of the decree treating of the increase of justification and of its renewal in the sacrament of penance, were drafted still more emphatically in an anti-evangelical spirit, though here and there they show concessions to the augustinian feeling in the church. the result was that the pope obtained what he wanted, a definition which made reconciliation with the protestants impossible. the new thomists were able to secure a sufficient amount of augustinian theology in the decree to render jansenism possible in the future; while the prevailing pelagianism or semi-pelagianism foreshadowed its overthrow by jesuit theology. while these theological definitions were being discussed and framed, the council also occupied itself with matters of reform. they began to make regulations about preaching and catechising, and this led them insensibly to the question of exemptions from episcopal control. the popes had for some centuries been trying to weaken the authority of the bishops, by placing the _regular_ clergy or monks beyond the control of the bishops within whose diocese their convents stood, and this exemption had been the occasion of many ecclesiastical disorders. the discussion was long and excited. it ended in a compromise. when the decree on justification was settled, the council, guided by the legates, proceeded to discuss the doctrine of the sacraments, with the intention of still more thoroughly preventing any doctrinal reconciliation with the protestants. this action called forth remonstrances from the emperor, whose successes at the time in germany were alarming the pope, and making him anxious to withdraw the council from germany altogether. he sent orders to the legates to endeavour to persuade the members at trent to vote for a transfer to bologna, where the papal influence would be stronger, and where it would be easier to pack the synod with a pliant italian majority. a pretext was found in the appearance of the plague at trent; and although a strong minority, headed by madruzzo of trent, opposed the scheme, the majority ( to ) decided that they must leave trent and establish themselves at the italian city. the spanish bishops, however, remained at trent awaiting the emperor's orders. charles v. had suffered many disappointments from the council he had laboured to summon, and this action made him lose all patience. he ordered the spanish bishops not to leave trent; the diet of augsburg refused to recognise the prelates who had gone to bologna as the general council. after much hesitation, pope paul iii. felt compelled to suspend the proceedings of the council at bologna (september th, ). this ended the first part of the sittings of the council. § . _second meeting of the council._ pope paul iii. died november th, . at the conclave which followed, the cardinal del monte, the senior legate of the council, was chosen pope, and took the title of julius iii. (february th, ). he and the emperor soon came to an agreement that the council should return to trent. it accordingly reopened there on may st, . the cardinal marcello crescentio was appointed sole legate, and two assistants, the archbishop of siponto and the bishop of verona, were entitled nuncios. the second meeting of the council did not promise well. the pope had agreed that something was to be done to conciliate the protestants, and that it should be left an open question whether the preceding decisions of the council might not be revised. but before its assembly the policy of the pope again ran counter to that of the emperor, and the protestants had ceased to expect much. the delegates themselves showed little eagerness to come to the place of meeting. the council was forced to adjourn, and it was not until the st of september that it began its work. the earlier proceedings showed that there was little hope of conciliatory measures. there was no attempt to revise these former decisions, and the council began its work of codifying doctrine and reformation at the place where it had dropped it. during the later months of the first meeting, the question of the sacraments had been under discussion, and so far as the second meeting is concerned it may be said that the whole of its theological work was confined to this subject. little pains were taken to conciliate the protestants. the decisions arrived at pass over in contemptuous silence all the protestant contendings. the relations of the sacraments to the word and promises of god, and to the faith of the recipient, are not explained. the thirteen canons which sum up the doctrine of the sacraments in general, and the anathemas with which they conclude, are the protest of the council against the whole protestant movement. this did not prevent the council being confronted with great difficulties in their definitions--difficulties which arose from the opposition between the earlier and more evangelical thomist and the later scotist and nominalist theology. it would almost appear that the fathers of trent despaired of harmonising the multitude of scholastic theories on the nature of the sacraments in general. they did not venture on constructing a decree, but contented themselves for the most part with merely negative definitions. they declare that there are seven sacraments, neither more nor fewer, all positively instituted by christ. they sever the intimate connection between faith and the sacraments, attributing to them a secret and mysterious power. they practically deny the universal priesthood of believers (can. ). perhaps the most important canon is the last: "if any one shall say that the received and approved rites of the catholic church, commonly used in the solemn administration of the sacraments, may be contemned, or without sin omitted at pleasure by the ministrants, or be changed by any pastor of the churches into other new ones: let him be anathema" (can. ). it enables us to see how, while not going beyond the verbal limits of the definitions of the thomist theology, the council provided room for subsequent aberrations of doctrine by raising the use and wont of the roman church to the level of dogma. in their definitions of the single sacraments the council could and did found on the _decretum pro armenis_ of the council of florence ( ), incorporated in the bull _exultate deo_ of pope eugenius iv. the real substance of the definition of baptism is found in that canon ( ), which declares that "the roman church, which is the mother and mistress of all churches, has the true doctrine of the sacrament of baptism." the common practice for the bishop to confirm, an historical testimony to the original position of bishops as pastors of congregations, is elevated to the rank of a dogma. the decree and canons on the eucharist are a dexterous dove-tailing of sentences making a mosaic of differing scholastic theories. one detail only need concern us. most of the theologians present wished the denial of the cup to the laity to be elevated into a dogma, and a decree was actually prepared. but the secular princes and a widespread public opinion made the theologians hesitate, and the question was settled in a late meeting (session xxi., july th, ) in a dexterously ambiguous way. it was declared that "from the beginning of the christian religion the use of both _species_ has not been unfrequent," but it was added that no one of the laity was permitted to demand the cup _ex dei præcepto_, or to believe that the church was not acting according to just and weighty reasons when it was refused, or that the "whole and entire christ" was not received "under either species alone." few statements have been made in such defiance of history as this decree, with its corresponding canons, when one and another practice of the mediæval church are said to have existed from the beginning. the decree on penance is one of the most carefully constructed and least ambiguous. it is a real codification of scholastic doctrine. on one portion only was there need for dexterous manipulation, and it received it. the immoral conception of _attrition_ was verbally abandoned and really retained. _contrition_, which is godly sorrow, is declared to be necessary; and _attrition_ is declared to be only a salutary preparation. but the real distinction thus established is at once cancelled by calling _attrition_ an _imperfect contrition_, by distinguishing between _contrition_ itself and a more perfect _contrition_--contrition perfected by love; and place is provided for the reintroduction of the immoral conceptions of the later scotist theologians.[ ] when the theological decrees and canons of the council of trent are read carefully in the light of past scholastic controversies and of varying principles at work in the roman catholic church of the sixteenth century, it is scarcely possible to avoid the conclusion that while the older and more evangelical thomist theology gained a verbal recognition, the real victory lay with the scotist party now represented by the jesuits. on one side of its activity, the general tendency of scotist theology had been to produce what was called "theological scepticism"--a state of mind which was compelled to dissent intellectually from most of the great doctrines of the mediæval church, and at the same time to accept them on the external authority of the church--to show that there were no really permanent principles in dogmatic, and that there was need everywhere for reference to a permanent and external source of authority who could be no other than the roman pontiff. the curialist position, that the universal church was represented by the roman church, and that the roman church was, as it were, condensed in the pope, was not confined to the sphere of jurisdiction only. it had its theological side. scripture, it was held, was to be interpreted according to the tradition of the church, and the pope alone was able to determine what that tradition really was. hence, the more indefinite theology was, the fewer permanent principles it contained, the more indispensable became the papal authority, and the more thoroughly religion could be identified with a blind unreasoning submission to the church identified as the pope. this had been the thought of ignatius loyola; the training of the mind to such a state of absolute submission had been the motive in his _spiritual exercises_ and the jesuit theologians at the council, lainez and salmeron, did very much to secure the practical victory won by scotist theology, in spite of the fact that the phrases of the decrees came from the theology of their opponents. the second meeting of the council of trent ended on april th, . the peace of augsburg ( ) showed that the protestants had acquired a separate legal standing within the empire, and most people thought that the work of the council had been wasted. things were as if it had never been in existence. pope paul iii. died on march th, , and the conclave elected cervini, who took the title of marcellus ii. the new pope survived his elevation only three weeks. he was succeeded by cardinal caraffa, paul iv., and the counter-reformation began in earnest. paul iv., hater of spaniards as he was, was the embodiment of the spanish idea of what a reformation should be. he believed that the work of reform could be done better by the pope himself than by any council, and he set to work with the thoroughness which characterised him. there was to be no tampering with the doctrines, usages, or institutions of the mediæval church. heresy and schism were to be crushed by the inquisition, and the spread of new ideas was to be prevented by the strict examination of all books, and the destruction of those which contained what the pope conceived to be unwholesome for the minds or morals of mankind. but the church needed to be reformed thoroughly; the lives of the clergy, and especially of the higher clergy, had to be amended; and abuses which had crept into administration had to be set right. for some time any real reformation was retarded by the influence of his nephews, who played on the old pontiff's hatred of the spaniards, and easily persuaded him that his first duty was to expel the spaniards from the italian peninsula. but the evil deeds of these near kinsmen gradually reached his ears. in an assembly of the inquisition, held in , he was told by cardinal pacheco that "reform must begin with _us_." the old man retired to his apartments, instituted a searching inquiry into the conduct of his nephews, and within a month had deprived them of all their offices and emoluments, and banished them from rome. free from this family embarrasment, the pope prosecuted vigorously his plans for reformation. the secular administration of the states of the church was thoroughly purified. a congregation was appointed to examine, classify, and remedy ecclesiastical abuses. many of the abuses of the curia were swept away. the jesuits taught him, although he had no great love for the order, that spiritual services should not be sold for money. he prohibited taking fees for marriage dispensations. he was a stern censor of the morals of the higher clergy. under his brief rule rome became respectable if not virtuous. he restored some of the privileges of the bishops which had been absorbed by the papacy. all the while his zeal for purity of doctrine made him urge on the inquisition and the index to use their terrible powers. he spared no one. cardinal morone, one of the few survivals of the liberal roman catholics, was imprisoned, and the suppression of all liberal ideas was sternly prosecuted.[ ] § . _third meeting of the council._ paul iv. died on the th of august . he was succeeded by giovanni de' medici (dec. th, ), a man of a very different type of character, who took the title of pius iv. the new pope was by training a lawyer rather than a theologian, and a man skilled in diplomacy. he recognised, as none of his predecessors had done, the difficulties which confronted the church of rome. the lutheran church had won political recognition in germany. scandinavia and denmark were hopelessly lost. england had become protestant, and scotland was almost sure to follow the example of her more powerful neighbour. the low countries could not be coerced by philip and alva. more than half of german switzerland had declared for the reformation. geneva had become a protestant fortress, and calvin's opinions were gaming ground all over french switzerland. france was hopelessly divided. bohemia, hungary, and poland were alienated from rome, and might soon revolt altogether. the pope was convinced that a general council was necessary to reunite the forces still on the side of the roman catholic church. he saw that it was vain to expect to do this without coming to terms with the romanist sovereigns. it was the age of autocracy. he pleaded for an alliance of autocrats to confront and withstand the protestant revolution. he tried to persuade the emperor (now ferdinand), francis ii. of france, and philip of spain that the independent rule of bishops was one side of the feudalism which was hostile to monarchy, and that the pope and the kings ought to work together. his representations had some effect as time went on. a papal bull (nov. th, ) summoned a council at trent on april th, . five legates were appointed to preside, at their head ercole di gonzaga, cardinal of mantua. they reached trent on the th of april ( ), and were received by ludovico madruzzo, who had succeeded his uncle, the cardinal, in the bishopric. the delegates came slowly. the first session (xvii^{th}) was not held till jan. th, , and was unimportant. the real work began at the second session (xviii^{th}), held on feb. th ( ). the protestants had been invited to attend, but it was well known that they would not; the assembly represented the roman catholic powers, and them alone. its object was not to conciliate the protestants, but to organise the romanist church. the various roman catholic powers, however, had different ideas of what ought to be involved in such a reorganisation. the emperor knew that there were many lukewarm protestants on the one hand and many disaffected romanists on the other. he believed that the former could be won back and the latter confirmed by some serious modifications in the usages of the church. his scheme of reform, set down in his instructions to his ambassadors, was very extensive. it included the permission to give the cup to the laity, marriage of the priests, mitigation of the prescribed fasts, the use of some of the ecclesiastical revenues to provide schools for the poor, a revision of the service books in the sense of purging them of many of their legends, singing german hymns in public worship, the publication of a good and simple catechism for the instruction of the young, a reformation of the cloisters, and a reduction of the powers of the roman pontiff according to the ideas of the council of constance. these reforms, earnestly pressed by the emperor in letters, had the support of almost all the german roman catholics. the french bishops, headed by the cardinal lorraine, supported the german demands. they were especially anxious for the granting the cup to the laity, the administration of the sacraments in french, french hymns snug in public worship, and that the celebration of the mass should always be accompanied by instruction and a sermon. they also pressed for a limitation of the powers of the pope, according to the decisions of the council of basel. the spanish bishops, on the other hand, were thoroughly opposed to any change in ecclesiastical doctrine or usages. they did not wish the cup given to the laity; they abhorred clerical marriage; they protested against the idea of the services or any part of them in the mother tongue. but they desired a thorough reformation of the curia, of the whole system of dispensations; they wished a limitation of the powers of the pope, and to see the bishops of the church restored to their ancient privileges. france and germany desired that the council should be considered a new synod; spain and the pope meant it to be simply a continuation of the former sessions at trent. these difficulties might well have daunted the pope; but the suave diplomatist faced the situation, trusting mainly to his own abilities to carry matters through to a successful issue. he knew that he must have command of the council, and to that end several resolutions were passed mainly by the adroit generalship of the legates. it was practically, if not formally, resolved that the synod should be simply a continuation of that council which had begun at trent in . this got rid at once of a great deal of difficult doctrinal discussion, and provided that all dogmas had to be discussed on the lines laid down in previous sessions. it was decreed that no proxies should be allowed. this enabled the pope to keep up a constant majority of italian bishops, who outnumbered those of all other nations put together. by a clever ruse the council was induced to vote that the papal legates alone should have the privilege of proposing resolutions to the council. this made it impossible to bring before the council any matter to which the pope had objection. the pope knew well, however, that it mattered little what conclusions the council came to, if its decisions were to be repudiated by the roman catholic powers. he therefore carried on elaborate negotiations with the emperor and the kings of spain and france while the council was sitting, and arranged with them the wording of the decrees to be adopted. his tactics, which never varied during the whole period of the council, and which were finally crowned with success, were simple. he maintained at all costs a numerical majority in the synod ready to vote as he directed. this was done by systematic drafts of italian bishops to trent. many of the poorer ones were subsidised through cardinal simonetta, whose business it was to see that the mechanical majority was kept up, and to direct it how to vote. his legates had the exclusive right of proposing resolutions; couriers took the proposals drafted by the various congregations to rome, and the pope revised them there before they were laid before the whole council to be voted upon; spies informed him what were the objections of the french, spanish, or german bishops, and the pope was diligent to bring all manner of influences to bear upon them to incline them to his mind; if he failed, he prevented the proposals being laid before the council until he had consulted and bargained with the monarchs through special agents. the papal post-bags, containing proposed decrees or canons, went the round of the european courts before they were presented to the council, and the bishops spoke and voted upon what had been already settled behind their backs and without their knowledge. in spite of all this dexterous manipulation, the council, composed of so many jarring elements, did not work very smoothly. the papal diplomacy sometimes increased the disturbances. men chafed under the thought that they were only puppets, and that the matters they had been called together to discuss were already irrevocably settled. "better never to have come here at all," said a spanish bishop, "than to be reduced to mere spectators." few ecclesiastical assemblies have seen stormier scenes than took place during these later sittings of the council of trent. in the end, the papal diplomacy prevailed. his conciliatory manner helped pius through difficulties in which another would have failed. no man was readier to give way in things which he did not consider essential, and what he promised he scrupulously performed. the success of the last meeting of the council was due to bargaining and dexterous persuasion. when the critical point arrived, and it seemed as if the council must fall to pieces, his agents, morone and peter canisius, the great german jesuit, won ferdinand over to the pope's side. similar persuasive diplomacy secured the influence of the cardinal of lorraine. even philip of spain was brought to see that the spanish bishops were asking too much. it must also be remembered that while pius iv. refused to tolerate any loss of papal rights or privileges, he consented to and did his best to carry out numberless salutary reforms; and that the council of trent not only reorganised, but greatly purified the roman church. almost all that was good in the reformation wrought by his predecessor paul iv. was made part of the tridentine regulations. the special matter in dispute between the pope and the great majority of non-italian bishops concerned the relations in which the bishops of the catholic church stood to the bishop of rome, whom all acknowledged as their head. the spanish, french, and german bishops were strongly opposed to that doctrine of papal supremacy which had been assiduously taught by the canonists of the roman curia for at least two centuries, and which was called _curialism_. curialism taught that the pope was lord of the church in the sense that all the clergy were his servants, and that bishops in particular were mere assistants whom he had appointed for the purpose of oversight to act as his vicars. whatever powers of jurisdiction they possessed came from him, and from him alone. the opposite conception, that insisted on at trent by the northern and spanish bishops, that maintained at the great councils of constance and basel, was that every bishop had his power directly from christ, and that the pope, while he was the representative of the unity of the church, and therefore to be recognised as its head, was only a _primus inter pares_, and subject to the episcopate as a whole in council assembled. the question kept cropping up in almost all the discussions in the council which turned on reform. it began as early as the fifth session (june th, ) and went on intermittently; but it positively raged in the later sessions. the question was raised on its practical side. one of the standing abuses in the mediæval church was the non-residence of bishops. the council was passionately called upon by the spanish and northern bishops to declare that residence was a necessary thing, and unanimously responded that it was. their function was the oversight of their dioceses, and this could only be done when they were resident. but how was this to be enforced? to compel the bishops to reside within their dioceses would depopulate the court of rome, and make it very much poorer. bishops from every country in europe were attached to the roman court, and their stipends, drawn from the countries in which their sees lay, were spent in rome, and aided the magnificence of the papal entourage. the reformers felt that a theoretical question lay behind the practical, and insisted that the oversight and therefore the residence of bishops was _de jure divino_ and not merely _de lege ecclesiastica_--something enjoined by god, and therefore beyond alteration by the pope. behind this lay the thought, first introduced by cyprian, that every bishop was within his congregation or diocese the vicar of christ, and in the last resort responsible to him alone. thus the old conciliar conception, maintained at constance and at basel, faced the curial at trent; and both were too powerful to give way entirely. in spite of his italian majority, the pope could not get a majority for a direct negative denying the _de jure divino_ theory. at the final vote, sixty-six fathers declared for the _de jure divino_ theory, while seventy-one either rejected it altogether or voted for remitting it to the decision of the pope. the pope dared not make use of the liberty of decision thus accorded to him by a majority of five. if he did he would then be left to face the european roman catholic courts of germany, france, and spain--all of whom supported the conciliar view. thus the theoretical question was left undecided at trent, but the papal diplomacy prevailed to the extent of creating a bias in favour of curialist ideas, which left the pope in a stronger position as regards the episcopate than any other general council had ever placed him in. the prominence given to the _roman_ (_i.e._ the papal) church throughout the decisions of the council, beginning with the way in which the constantinopolitan (nicene) creed was affirmed;[ ] the insertion of the phrase _his own vicar upon earth_;[ ] the injunction that patriarchs, primates, archbishops, bishops, and all others who of right and custom ought to be present at a provincial council ... _promise and profess true obedience to the sovereign roman pontiff_;[ ] the th clause in the _professio fidei tridentinæ_: "i acknowledge the holy catholic apostolic roman church for the mother and mistress of all churches; and i promise and swear true obedience to the bishop of rome, successor to st. peter, prince of apostles, and vicar of jesus christ"; the way in which the council at its last session (dec. th, ) left entirely in the pope's hands the confirmation of its decrees and the measures to be used for carrying them out; and above all its calm acquiescence in the bull _benedictus deus_ (jan. th, ), in which pope pius iv. reserved the exposition of its decrees to himself[ ]--all testify to the triumph of curialist ideas at the council of trent. the roman catholic church had become, in a sense never before universally accepted, the "pope's house." this council, so eagerly demanded, so greatly protracted, twice dissolved, buffeted by storms in the political world, exposed, even in its later sessions, to many a danger, ended in the general contentment of the roman catholic peoples. when the prelates met together for the last time on the th of december , ancient opponents embraced, and traces of tears were seen in many of the old eyes. it had done three things for the roman catholic church. it had provided a compact system of doctrine, stript of many of the vagaries of scholasticism, and yet opposed to protestant teaching. romanism had an intellectual basis of its own to rest on. it had rebuilt the hierarchy on what may be called almost a new foundation, and made it symmetrical. it had laid down a scheme of reformation which, if only carried out by succeeding pontiffs, would free the church from many of the crying evils which had given such strength to the protestant movement. it had insisted on and made provisions for an educated clergy--perhaps the greatest need of the roman church in the middle of the sixteenth century. all this was largely due to the man who ruled in rome. pope pius iv., sprung from the shrewd italian middle-class, caring little for theology, by no means distinguished for piety, had seen what the church needed, and by deft diplomacy had obtained it. a stronger man would have snapped the threads which tied all parties together; one more zealous would have lacked his infinite patience; a deeply pious man could scarcely have employed the means he continually used. he was magnificently assisted by the new company of jesus. no theologians had so much influence at trent as lainez and salmeron; the council would have broken down altogether but for the aid given by canisius to morone in his negotiations with the emperor. pius iv. was not slow to fulfil the promises he had made to sovereigns and council. the breviary and the missal were revised, as ferdinand had requested. ecclesiastical music was purified. exertions were made to establish colleges and theological seminaries. but a sterner pontiff was needed to guide the battle against the growing protestantism. he was found in the next, pope pius v. the influence of cardinal borromeo, the pious nephew of pius iv., was powerful in the conclave, and was exerted to procure the election of michele ghislieri, cardinal of alessandria, who took the name of pius v. the new pontiff had entered a dominican convent when fourteen years of age, and had given himself up heart and soul to the strictest life his order enjoined. he had all the zeal for strict orthodoxy which characterised the dominicans, an asceticism which never spared himself, and a detestation of the immoralities and irregularities which too often disgraced the lives of ecclesiastics. he carried the habits of the cloister with him into the vatican. he never missed attendance at the prescribed services of the church, and in his devotion there was no trace of hypocrisy. he was a pope to lead the new romanism, with its intense hatred of heresy, its determination to reform the moral life, and its contempt for the renaissance and all its works. philip ii. of spain sent a special letter of congratulation to cardinal borromeo to thank him for his efforts in the conclave. the new pontiff believed, heart and soul, in repression. he meant to fight the reformation by the inquisition and the index; and these two instruments were unsparingly used. chapter vi. the inquisition and the index.[ ] § . _the inquisition in spain._ the idea conveyed in the term inquisition is the punishment of spiritual or ecclesiastical offences by physical pains and penalties. it was no new conception in the christian church. it had existed from the days of constantine. so far as the mediæval church is concerned, historians roughly distinguish between the episcopal, the papal, and the spanish inquisitions. in the half-barbarous church of the early middle ages, in which a curious give-and-take policy existed between the secular and civil powers, a seemingly consistent understanding was arrived at between church and state, which may be summed up by saying that it was recognised to be the church's duty to point out heretics, and that of the state to punish them--the church being represented by the bishops. this episcopal inquisition took many forms, and was never a very effective instrument in the suppression of heresy. in , pope innocent iii., alarmed at the spread of heresies through southern france and northern italy, published a bull censuring the indifference of the bishops, appointing the abbot of citeaux his delegate in matters of heresy, and giving him power to judge and _punish_ heresy. this was the beginning of the inquisition as a separate institution. it was an act of papal centralisation, and a distinct encroachment on the episcopal jurisdiction. the papal inquisition, thus started, took root. it did not displace the old episcopal inquisition; the two existed side by side; but the "apostolic tribunal for the suppression of heresy" was by far the more effective weapon. it was usually managed by the dominican and franciscan orders. the spanish inquisition took its rise in the closing decades of the fifteenth century. the popes had frequently desired to see the papal inquisition introduced into spain, and leave had always been refused by the sovereigns, jealous of papal interference. pope sixtus iv. had gone the length of granting to his legate, nicolo franco, "full inquisitorial powers to prosecute and punish false christians who after baptism persisted in the observance of jewish rites," but isabella and ferdinand did not allow him to exercise them. but the power and wealth of the _conversos_--jews who had nominally embraced christianity--had made them detested by the spanish people, and a large section of the clergy were clamouring for their overthrow. thomas de torquemada, the queen's confessor, eagerly pressed the inquisition upon his royal penitent, and at last the sovereigns applied to the pope for a bull to enable them to establish in spain an inquisition of a peculiar kind. it was to differ from the ordinary papal inquisition in this, that it was to be strictly under royal control, that the sovereigns were to have the appointment of the inquisitors, and that the fines and confiscations were to flow into the royal treasury. the bull was granted (november st, ), but the sovereigns hesitated to use the rights it conveyed. after a year's delay, two royal inquisitors were appointed (september th, ), and the first _auto-da-fé_, at which six persons were burnt, took place on february th, . the succeeding years saw various modifications in the constitution of the holy office; but at last it was organised with a council, presided over by an inquisitor-general, thomas de torquemada. he was a man of pitiless zeal, stern, relentless, and autocratic; and he stamped his nature on the institution over which he presided. the holy office was permitted to frame its own rules. the permission made it practically independent, while all the resources of the state were placed at its command. when an inquisitor came to assume his functions, the officials took an oath to assist him to exterminate all whom he might designate as heretics, and to observe, and compel the observance by all, of the decretals _ad abolendum, excommunicamus, ut officium inquisitionis_, and _ut inquisitionis negotium_--the papal legislation of the thirteenth century, which made the state wholly subservient to the holy office, and rendered incapable of official position any one suspect in the faith or who favoured heretics. besides this, all the population was assembled to listen to a sermon by the inquisitor, after which all were required to swear on the cross and the gospels to help the holy office, and not to impede it in any manner or on any pretext. the methods of work and procedure were also taken from the papal inquisition. the inquisitors were furnished with letters patent. they travelled from town to town, attended by guards and notaries public. their expenses were defrayed by taxes laid on the towns and districts through which they passed. spies and informers, guaranteed state protection, brought forward their information. the court was opened; witnesses were examined; and the accused were acquitted or found guilty. the sentence was pronounced; the secular assessor gave a formal assent; and the accused was handed over to the civil authorities for punishment. when torquemada reorganised the spanish inquisition, a series of rules were framed for its procedure which enforced secrecy to the extent of depriving the accused of any rational means of defence; which elaborated the judicial method so as to leave no loop-hole even for those who expressed a wish to recant; and which multiplied the charges under which suspected heretics, even after death, might be treated as impenitent and their property confiscated. the spanish inquisition differed from the papal in its close relation to the civil authorities, its terrible secrecy, its relentlessness, and its exclusion of bishops from even a nominal participation in its work. thus organised, it became the most terrible of curses to unhappy spain. during the first hundred and thirty-nine years of its existence the country was depopulated to the extent of three millions of people. it had become strong enough to overawe the monarchy, to insult the episcopate, and to defy the pope. the number of its victims can only be conjectured. llorente has calculated that during the eighteen years of torquemada's presidency , persons were accused, of whom , were burnt alive, and , were condemned to perpetual imprisonment or to public penitence. this was the terrible instrument used relentlessly to bring the spanish people into conformity with the spanish reformation, and to crush the growing protestantism of the low countries. it was extended to corsica and sardinia; but the people of naples and sicily successfully resisted its introduction when proposed by the spanish viceroys. § . _the inquisition in italy._ cardinal caraffa (afterwards pope paul iv.), the relentless enemy of the reformation, seeing the success of this spanish inquisition in its extermination of heretics, induced pope paul iii. to consent to a reorganisation of the papal inquisition in italy on the spanish model, in . the curia had become alarmed at the progress of the reformation in italy. they had received information that small protestant communities had been formed in several of the italian towns, and that heresy was spreading in an alarming fashion. caraffa declared that "the whole of italy was infected with the lutheran heresy, which had been extensively embraced both by statesmen and ecclesiastics." ignatius loyola and the jesuits highly approved of the suggestion, and they were all-powerful with the cardinal borromeo, the pious and trusted nephew of the pope. in the congregation of the holy office was founded at rome, and six cardinals, among them cardinals caraffa and toledo, were named inquisitors-general, with authority on both sides of the alps to try all cases of heresy, to apprehend and imprison suspected persons, and to appoint inferior tribunals with the same or more limited powers. the intention was to introduce into this remodelled papal inquisition most of the features which marked the thoroughness of the spanish institution. but the jealousy of the popes prevented the holy office from exercising the same independent action in italy as in spain. the new institution began its work at once within the states of the church, and was introduced after some negotiations into most of the italian principalities. venice refused, until it was arranged that the holy office there should be strictly subject to the civil authorities. although modelled on the spanish institution, the work of the holy office in italy never exhibited the same murderous activity; nor was there the same need. the italians have never showed the stern consistency in faith which characterised the spaniards. it was generally found sufficient to strike at the leaders in order to cause the relapse of their followers. still the records of the office and contemporary witnesses recount continuous trials and burnings in rome and in other cities. in venice, death by drowning was substituted for burning. the victims were placed on a board supported by two gondolas; the boats were rowed apart, and the unfortunate martyrs perished in the waters. the protestant congregations which had been formed in bologna, faenza, ferrara, lucca, modena, naples, siena, venice, and vicenza were dispersed with little or no bloodshed. a colony of waldenses, settled near the town of cosenza in the north-central part of calabria, were made of sterner stuff. nothing would induce them to relapse, and they were exterminated by sword, by hurling from the summits of cliffs, by prolonged confinement in deadly prisons, at the stake, in the mines, in the spanish galleys. one hundred elderly women were first tortured and then slaughtered at montalto. the survivors among the women and children were sold into slavery. such was the work of the counter-reformation in italy, and the measures to which it owed much of its success. § . _the index._ leaders of the counter-reformation in italy like popes paul iv. and pius v. were determined on much more than the dispersion of protestant communities and the banishment or martyrdom of the missionaries of evangelical thought. they resolved to destroy what they rightly enough believed to be its seed and seed-bed--the cultivation of independent thinking and of impartial scholarship. they wished to extirpate all traces of the renaissance. in the fifteenth and first half of the sixteenth centuries, italy had been "the workshop of ideas," the _officina scientiarum_ for the rest of europe. the inquisition, in italy as in spain, attacked the academies, the schools of learning, above all the libraries in which the learning of the past was stored, and the printing-presses which disseminated ideas day by day. they had the example of torquemada before them, who had burnt six thousand volumes at salamanca in on pretence that they taught sorcery. it was no new thing to order the burning of heretical writings. this had been done continuously throughout the middle ages. the episcopal inquisition, the universities, the papal inquisition, had all endeavoured to discover and destroy writings which they deemed to be dangerous to the dogmas of the church. after the invention of printing such a method of slaying ideas was not so easy; but the ecclesiastical authorities had tried their best. the celebrated edict of the archbishop of mainz of , prompted by the number of bibles printed in the vernacular, and trying to establish a censorship of books, may be taken as an example.[ ] pope sixtus iv. in had ordered the university of köln to see that no books (_libri, tractatus aut scripturæ qualescunque_) were printed without previous licence, and had empowered the authorities to inflict penalties on the printers, purchasers, and readers of all unlicensed books. alexander vi. had sent the same order to the archbishops of köln, mainz, trier, and magdeburg ( ). in a _constitution_ of leo x., approved by the lateran council of , it was declared that no book could be printed in rome which had not been expressly sanctioned by the _master of the palace_, and in other lands by the bishop of the diocese or the inquisitor of the district; and this had been homologated by the council of trent.[ ] from its reorganisation in the papal inquisition in rome had undertaken this work of censorship. outside the states of the church the suppression of books and the requirement of ecclesiastical licence could only be carried out through the co-operation of the secular authorities; and they naturally demanded some uniformity in the books condemned. this led to lists of prohibited books being drawn up--as at louvain ( and ), at köln ( ), and by the sorbonne, who managed the inquisition for the north of france ( and ). pope paul iv. drafted the first papal index in . it was very drastic, and its very severity prevented its success.[ ] it was this _index librorum prohibitorum_ which was discussed by the commission appointed at the council of trent.[ ] the commission drafted a set of ten rules to be followed in constructing a list of prohibited books, and left the actual formation of the index to the pope. this new index (the tridentine index) was published by pope pius iv. in . his successor, pius v., appointed a special commission of cardinals to deal with the question of prohibited books. it was called the congregation of the index, and although distinct from the inquisition, worked along with it. its work was done very thoroughly. italian scholarship was slain so far as the peninsula was concerned. the scholarship of spain and portugal was also destroyed. learning had to take shelter north of the alps and the pyrenees. so thoroughly was the work of prohibition carried out, so many difficulties beset even roman catholic authors, that paleario called the whole system "a dagger drawn from the scabbard to assassinate all men of letters"; paul sarpi dubbed it "the finest secret which has ever been discovered for applying religion to the purpose of making men idiots"; and latini, a champion of the papacy, declared it to be a "peril which threatened the very existence of books." the rules for framing the index, drafted by the commission of the council of trent, are curious reading. the writings of noted reformers, of zwingli, luther, and especially of calvin, were absolutely prohibited. the vulgate was to be the only authorised version of the scriptures, and the only one to be quoted as an inspired text. scholars might, by special permission of their ecclesiastical superiors, possess another version, but they were never to quote it as authoritative. versions in the vernacular were never to be quoted. bible dictionaries, concordances, books on controversial theology, had to pass the strictest examination at the hands of the censors before publication. the censors were directed to examine with the utmost care not merely the text, but all summaries, notes, indexes, prefaces, and dedications, searching for any heretical phrases or for sentences which the unwary might be tempted to think heretical, for all criticisms on any ecclesiastical action, for any satire on the clergy or on religious rites. all such passages were to be expunged. north of the alps the index had small effect. it was impotent in lands where the reformation was firmly established; and in france, papal germany, and north italy a class of daring colporteurs carried the prohibited tracts, bibles, and religious literature throughout the lands. the tremendous powers of suppression set forth in the tridentine rules could not avoid doing infinite mischief to thought and scholarship, even if placed in the hands of qualified and well-intentioned men. but the censors were neither capable nor high-minded. scholars refused the odious task. commentaries on the fathers were read by men who knew little latin, less greek, and no hebrew. they were discovered extorting money from unfortunate authors, levying blackmail on booksellers, listening to the whispers of jealous rivals. so effectually was learning slain in italy, that when the popes at the close of the sixteenth century strove to revive the scholarship of the church and to gather together at rome a band of men able to defend the papacy with their pens, these scholars had to work under immense disabilities. baronius wrote his _annals_, and latini edited the latin fathers, both of them ignorant of greek, and both harassed by the censorship. some of the more distinguished leaders of the counter-reformation saw the dangers which lurked in this system of pure suppression. the great german jesuit, canisius, who did more than any other man for the maintenance and revival of the roman catholic church in germany, pointed out that destruction was powerless to effect permanent good. the people must have books, and the church ought to supply them. he laboured somewhat successfully to that end. § . _the society of jesus and the counter-reformation._ neither the inquisition nor the index account for the counter-reformation. repression might stamp out reformers in southern europe; but faith, enthusiasm, unselfish and self-denying work were needed to enable the roman church to assume the offensive. these were supplied to a large extent by the devoted followers of ignatius loyola. roman catholicism reached its ebb during the pontificate of pius iv. it stood everywhere on the defensive, seeing one stronghold after another pass into the hands of a victorious protestantism. pius v., his successor, was the first fighting pope of the new roman catholicism. he had behind him the reorganisation effected by the council of trent; the roman catholic revival of mediæval piety of which carlo borromeo, philip neri, and francis de sales were distinguished types; the inquisition and congregation of the index; and, above all, the company of jesus. romanism under his leadership boldly assumed the offensive. in it seemed as if all germany might become protestant. the states which still acknowledged the papacy were honeycombed with protestant communities. bavaria, the rhine provinces, the duchy of austria itself, were, according to contemporary accounts, more than half-protestant. nearly all the seats of learning were protestant. the romanist universities of vienna and ingolstadt were almost deserted by students. under the skilful and enthusiastic leadership of peter canisius, the jesuits were mainly instrumental in changing this state of things. they entered bavaria and austria. they appeared there as the heralds and givers of education, and took possession of the rising generation. they established their schools in all the principal centres of population. they were good teachers; they produced school-books of a modern type; the catechism written by canisius himself was used in all their schools (it transplanted into romanism the lutheran system of catechising); they charged no fees; they soon had the instruction of the roman catholic children in their hands. the astonished people of town and country districts began to see pilgrimages of boys and girls, conducted like modern sunday-school treats, led by the good fathers, to visit famous churches, shrines, holy crosses, miraculous wells, etc. the parents were induced to visit the teachers; visits led to the confessional, and the confessional to the directorate. then followed the discipline of the _spiritual exercises_, usually shortened to suit the capacities of the penitents. whole districts were led back to the confessional--the parents following the children. the higher education was not neglected. jesuit colleges founded at vienna and ingolstadt peopled the decaying universities with students, and gave them new life. student associations, on the model of that founded by canisius at köln, were formed, and were affiliated to the company of jesus. pilgrimages of students wended their way to famous shrines; talented young men submitted their souls to the direction of the jesuit fathers, and shared in the hypnotic trance given by the course of the _spiritual exercises_. a generation of ardent souls was trained for the active service of the roman church, and vowed to combat protestantism to the death. the company had another, not less important, field of work. the peace of augsburg had left the management of the religion of town or principality in the hands of the ruling secular authority. the maxim, _cujus regio ejus religio_, placed the religious convictions of the population of many districts at the mercy of one man. many romanist princes had no wish to persecute, still less to see their principalities depopulated by banishment. some of them had given guarantees for freedom of conscience and limited rights of worship to their protestant subjects. the jesuits set themselves to change this condition of things. they could be charming confessors and still more delightful directors for the obedient sons and daughters of the papacy. they were invited to take charge of the souls of many of the princes and especially of the princesses of germany. they set themselves to charm, to command, and, lastly, to threaten their penitents. toleration of protestants they represented to be the unpardonable sin. they succeeded in many cases in inducing romanist rulers to withdraw the protection they had hitherto accorded to their protestant subjects, who, if they stood firm in their faith, had to leave their homes and seek refuge within a protestant district. thus openly and stealthily the wave of romanist reaction rolled northwards over germany, and district after district was won back for the papacy. this first period of the counter-reformation may be said to end with the sixteenth century; the second, which included the thirty years' war, lies beyond our limit. the savage struggle in france, culminating in the massacre of st. bartholomew, did not belong to the new roman catholicism, and lay outside of what may be called the counter-reformation proper. the force of this new aggressive movement was first felt in the formation of the holy league, which had for its object to prevent henry of navarre from ascending the throne of france. the league was the symbol in france of this counter-reformation. the jesuits never attained a preponderating influence in that country until the days of marie de medici; but they were the restless and ruthless organisers of the holy league. the jesuit fathers, auger, henri saumier, and, above all, claude matthieu, called the _courrier de la ligue_, worked energetically on its behalf. the company issued tracts from their printing-presses asserting the inalienable rights of the people to govern and therefore to choose their rulers. they taught that while god had given spiritual power into the hands of one man, the pope, he had bestowed the secular power on the many. kings, they asserted, do not reign by any divine right of hereditary succession, but by the will of the people and of the pope. hence all romanist france was justified in setting aside the king of navarre and putting in his place the cardinal of bourbon, his uncle. the arguments they laid before the english people were based on principles altogether different, even contradictory. there they extolled hereditary and legitimate succession. elizabeth was illegitimate, and mary of scotland had divine rights to the throne of england. it is needless to relate the efforts made by the leaders of the counter-reformation to bring england back to the papacy--the college at douai, the english college at rome, both erected to train missionaries for service against the heretical queen; the mission of the jesuits, parsons and campion. the student of history can scarcely fail to note one thing,--that the sailing of the spanish armada marks the flood-tide of the first period of the counter-reformation. after the ruin of the great fleet the first wave of the reaction seems to have spent itself. the league failed in france, and henry iv. secured the rights of his protestant subjects in the edict of nantes. the hollanders emerged triumphant from their long war of liberation. even in germany the defeat of the armada dates in a rough way the end of the impetus of the romanist reaction. the german protestants assumed the offensive again, and an energetic and aggressive calvinism redeemed the halting character of the lutheran reformation. mr. symonds, in his brilliant sketches of the forces at work to make the romanist reaction, thinks that the part of the jesuits in the counter-reformation has rather been exaggerated than insufficiently recognised. "without the ecclesiastical reform which originated in the tridentine council; without the gold and sword of spain; without the stakes and prisons of the inquisition; without the warfare against thought conducted by the congregation of the index,--the jesuits alone could not have masterfully governed the catholic revival."[ ] this is perhaps true; but what would all these things have come to apart from the activity of the company of jesus? they were little better than the mechanism to which the enthusiasm and the indomitable work bred from enthusiasm gave the soul. stern, relentless, savage repression can do much. it can make a desert and call it peace; but it cannot requicken with renewed life. the gentle piety of carlo borromeo, the sweet languishing tenderness of francis de sales, the revived mediæval mysticism discernible in the romanist reaction, had neither the religious depth nor the endurance needed for the times. ignatius breathed the spanish spirit, at once wildly visionary and intensely practical, into his company, and they transfused it throughout the church of the counter-reformation--the exalted devotion, the tenacity which no reverses could wear out, and the unquenchable religious hope. they ruled it as the soul governs the body. it was the time of spanish domination. spain grasped the new world and hoped to subdue the old. her soldiers were the best in europe. they dreamed of nothing but conquests. the jesuits brought the spanish spirit into the church. others might scheme, and wish, and wonder. they worked. they reaped the harvest which hard and unremitting labour gathers in every field. it was not for nothing that adrian and other papal statesmen dubbed luther another mahomet; the word kindled in every spanish breast the memory of their centuries of war with the moslems and its victorious ending. if the gold and sword of spain were at the service of the counter-reformation, it was the spanish spirit incarnate in the company of jesus that made such dry bones live. we must remember that in the first period of the romanist reaction we have to do with the jesuits of the sixteenth century, and must banish from our minds the history of the order in the two centuries that follow. its worst side had scarcely appeared. its theory of probabilism, by which directors were trained to transform all deadly sins, even murder, adultery, and theft, into venial offences, and casuistry became a method for the entire guidance of souls, belonged to a later period. it was not till the seventeenth century that the forgiveness of sins had been reduced by them to a highly refined art. their shameless neglect of religion and morality, when the political interests of the church and of the society seemed to require it, was also later. what the depressed romanists of the sixteenth century saw was a body of men whom no difficulties daunted, who spent themselves in training boys and girls and in animating them with religious principles; who persuaded boys and youths to attend daily mass, to resort to monthly confession, to study the articles of their faith; who elevated that obedience, which for generations they had been taught was due to the earthly head of the church, into a sublime religious principle. all this the romanism of the counter-reformation owed to those three unknown men, who crept into rome through the porto del popolo during easter to beg pope paul iii. to permit them and their companions to enroll themselves in a new order, for the defence of the faith. it is true that men can never get rid of their personal responsibility in spiritual things, but multitudes will always attempt to cast the burden upon others. in all such souls the spirit of the counter-reformation lives and moves and has its being, and they are sustained, consciously or unconsciously, by that principle of blind obedience which its preachers taught. it is enough for us to remember that no weakened sense of personal responsibility and no amount of superstitious practice can utterly quench the conscience that seeks its god, or can hinder that upward glance to the father in heaven which carries with it a living faith. index. aare, the, swiss river, boundary between the provinces of mainz and besançon, . _abjuration, act of_, declaration of dutch independence, . abjuration of papal supremacy by the church of england, . _act of restraint of appeals_ (england), . _act abolishing diversity of opinion_ (england), . _act of uniformity_ (edward vi.), _the first_, , . _act of uniformity_ (edward vi.), _the second_, . _act de heretico comburendo_, . _act of uniformity_ (elizabeth), _ff._, , _f._, , . _act of supremacy_ (elizabeth), _ff._, _f._, , , _f._ acts completing england's secession from rome, . acts of henry viii. revived by elizabeth, and _n._ adda, the (val tellina), . adrian vi., his ideas of the need of reformation, ; a dutch ximenes, ; an inquisitor, ; in rome, ; tries to reform the _curia_, ; the martyr of the spanish reformation, ; failure in life, success after death, ; , . _advertisements_ of archbishop parker, , _n._ advoyer, the, the chief magistrate of bern, _n._ agen, reformed church at, . agrarian troubles in england, , , . agrippa, cornelius, _n._ aigle, a district of the pays de vand, ; farel at, , . albert of brandenburg, . alcala, college at, _f._, . alciat, andré, lecturer in law, . aleander, hieronymus, papal legate at worms, in the netherlands, . alençon, the duke of, francis, till , then duke of anjou, _n._, . alexander, of arles, peter, . alva, fernando alvarez de toledo, duke of, , _f._, , . amboise, town of, , ; conspiracy of, ; edict of, . ammonius, andreas, latin secretary to henry viii., . amsterdam, , . anabaptists, the, outside the peace of augsburg, ; in zurich, ; in the netherlands, _ff._; their origin, , , _ff._; places of refuge, , ; attempts to gain a town in the netherlands, _f._; old mood of describing, _f._, _n._; connection with the social revolt, ; with the _brethren_, ; their organisation, ; their hymns, , _ff._; their strong individuality, ; views on _passive resistance_, ; their evangelists, ; repudiated a state church, ; their "separation" from the world, , ; persecutions, _ff._, ; in switzerland, _f._; in münster, _ff._; polygamy among, _ff._; their views on marriage, . andelot, francis de, brother of admiral coligny, , . anduze, huguenot stronghold, . angeles, francisco de los, and luther . angers, reformed church at, . anhalt becomes calvinist, . anna reinhard and zwingli, . _annates_ (england), , . anne of cleves, , , . anti-trinitarians, , _f._ antoine de bourbon, titular king of navarre, , , , , , , . see bourbon. antwerp, , _f._ _apology, the_, of william of orange, . _apostles, the twelve_ (nickname), . apostolic tribunal (inquisition), the, . appenzell (swiss canton), , , . aquila, bishop of, ambassador of philip ii., . _archeteles_ (treatise by zwingli), . _areopagitica, the_, . armada, destruction of the spanish, . arran, the earl of, , , _n._ arthur, prince of wales, married to catharine of aragon, . _articles of geneva_, _ff._, . _articles, the ten_, _ff._ _articles, the six_, _f._, , . _articles, the forty-two_, , . _articles, the thirty-eight_, _f._ _articles, the thirty-nine_, , _ff._, , . _articles of the order and government of the church, the_, . _articles, the twenty-one_ (anabaptist), , . _articles, the twelve_ (the apostles' creed), . arundel, the constitutions of thomas, . assembly of notables (france), . _attrition_ and _contrition_, as defined at the council of trent, . aubenas, huguenot stronghold, . aubigny, reformed church at, . augsburg, peace of, elizabeth's desire to take advantage of, , _n._, , . _augsburg confession_, , , , , . _augsburg interim_, ; . augsburger, jacob, reformer of mühlhausen, . _aventuriers, les_, in france, . aytta, vigilius van, member of the council of state for the netherlands, . _babylonian captivity of the church of christ_, , . baden (switzerland), diet at, . bale, john, . _band subscrivit by the lords_, . _baptism, ceremony of_, according to the reformed rite, ; first instance in geneva, ; anabaptist mode of administering, ; mode in münster, . _baptism, doctrine of_, defined at the council of trent, . barcelona, ladies of, ignatius' earliest disciples, , . barlaymont, baron de (netherlands), , , . barnes, dr. robert (england), , , . barricades, the day of (france), . barry, godfrey de, seigneur de la renaudie (france), . basel, bishopric of, , . basel, town of, the reformation in, ; accepts calvinism, ; regulation of morals in, ; , , . bastille, the, used as a prison for protestants, . _bauny, qui tollit peccata mundi per definitionem_, . bavaria, ; anabaptists in, . _bearnese_, the, henry iv. of france, . _beatæ_, spanish mystics, . beaton, david, archbishop of st andrews, cardinal, _f._, _n._ beatus, rhenanus, humanist, _n._ béda, noël, leader of the romanist party in the university of paris, , . _beggars, the_, _ff._ see _wild-beggars_, _sea-beggars_. _bekentones des globens und lebens der gemein criste zu monster_, . benedictines, reformation among the, . _bentheim confession_, _n._ ber, hans, anabaptist evangelist, . bern, the reformation in, ; _the ten theses_ of, , _f._, ; protects swiss protestants, , ; seeks to evangelise western switzerland, , , _f._; liturgy of, in use in french switzerland, , , _ff._; demands a public disputation at lausanne, ; synod at, ; protects the evangelicals of geneva, _f._; conquers the pays de vaud, ; regulation of morals in, ; commanding position in western switzerland, ; _consistory_ of, _ff._; intercedes with geneva on calvin's behalf, _ff._; , , , . bernard, jacques, minister at geneva, _n._ berquin, louis, a french lutheran, , . besançon, archiepiscopal province of, . bèze, théodore de (beza), , , ; at poissy, _ff._ bible, the english, , _ff._, . biel or bienne (swiss canton), ; becomes calvinist, . _bishops' book, the_, , , . blaarer (blauer), ambrose, , . blandrata, giorgio, anti-trinitarian, . _blast ... against the monstrous regiment of women_, , . _blaurock_ (brother jörg), _f._ blois, town of, , . _bloody tribunal, the_, . boabdilla, nicholas, jesuit, , . bockelson, jan (jan of leyden), arrived at münster, ; leader in münster, _ff._; introduced polygamy _ff._ bocquet, christopher, a dominican preacher in geneva, ; called a _lutheran_ preacher, _n._ boekbinder, bartholomaeus, disciple of jan matthys, . boleyn, anne, , . bolsec, jerome (geneva), . bonner, edmund, bishop of london, , _f._, _f._, . _book of common order, the_ (scotland), . _book of communion, the_ (england), . _book of discipline, the first_ (scotland), . books, index of prohibited. _see index._ borgia, francis, duke of candia, a jesuit, . borromean league (switzerland), . borromeo, carlo, cardinal, , . bourbon, _antoine_ de ( - ), duke of vendôme, and through his wife, jeanne d'albret, titular king of navarre, , , , , , , . _louis_ de, brother of antoine, prince of condé ( - ), bourbon: married ( ) eléanor de roye, ( ) françoise d'orléans, , , _f._, , _f._ _charles_ de, brother of antoine ( - ), cardinal de bourbon, chosen king by the league as charles x., , , _f._ _henry_, son of antoine and jeanne d'albret, king of navarre and king henry iv. of france ( - ), recognised as leader of the huguenots, ; married to marguerite de valois, ; becomes heir to the french throne, ; declared by the pope incapable of succeeding, ; at tours with henry iii., ; succeeds as henry iv., ; his _declaration_, ; becomes a roman catholic, _f._; grants the edict of nantes, . _henry_ de ( - ), son of louis of condé and eléanor de roye, , , . _antoinette_ de ( - ), aunt of antoine de bourbon, married claude, duke of guise, the mother of the guises, . bourg, antoine du, the chancellor, ; the martyr, , , _f._ bourges, calvin at, ; church at, ; . breda, . brederode, henry, viscount, _f._ bremen becomes calvinist, . _bremen consensus_, _n._ brès, guido de, drafted the _belgic confession_, . _brethren, the_, _f._, , , . _brethren of the common lot, the_, , . _brethren and sisters of the free spirit, the_, . briçonnet, guillaume, bishop of meaux, , and _n._ brill (brielle) taken by the _sea-beggars_, . broet, paul, the jesuit, . brooks, james, bishop of gloucester, , . bruno, giordano, . bucer, martin, reformer of strassburg, , , , , , . buchanan, george, , and _n._, . budé, guillaume (budæus), , . buenzli gregory, teacher of zwingli, . bullinger, henry, successor to zwingli in zurich, on ecclesiastical excommunication, ; influence in england, , , and _n._, ; . burgundy. see _charles the bold_. busche, hermann von dem, of marburg, . cachi, jean, rom. cath. in geneva, . _caffard_, . _cahiers_, list of grievances presented to the states-general, , . calvin (cauvin), jean, "atrocious mysteries of," _n._, ; doctrine of the holy supper, ff., ; on _substance_ and _presence_, , ; preachers trained by, ; youth and education, _ff._; at the colleges de la marche and montaigu, ; at the college fortet, ; at orleans and bourges, ; conversion, , ; edition of seneca's _de clementia_, , ; knowledge of the classics and of patristic, , , ; joined the protestant community in paris, ; writes the _discourse on christian philosophy_, delivered by nicolas cop before the university of paris, ; in basel, ; in geneva with farel, _ff._; at the _disputation_ at lausanne, ; aimed at restoring the ecclesiastical usages of the first three centuries, ; his idea of ecclesiastical discipline, _ff._; believed that the secular power should enforce ecclesiastical sentences, ; his views of ecclesiastical discipline not adopted by geneva, ; his _catechisms_, , ; his _confession_ sworn to by the genevese, ; opposition to, in geneva, - ; accused of heresy, ; and the _ceremonies of bern_, _ff._; at the _synod of lausanne_, _f._; banished from geneva, _n._, ; at the _synod of zurich_, ; signs the _augsburg confession_, ; settles at strassburg, ; asked to return to geneva, _f._; returns, ; work in geneva, provides a trained ministry, ; plans for education, ; influence on the french protestant church, and _n._, ; fond of children, ; as a writer of french prose, and _n._; a democrat, _f._; value of his theology for the reformation, ; influence on the organisation of the french church, ; discourages rebellion in france, ; writes against iconoclasm, , ; renan and michelet on, ; influence on the scottish church, ; at the _regensburg conference_, _f._; _ff._, , , , , _f._, , , , . cambridge, , , . campeggio, thomas, bishop of feltre, a cardinal, in england, _ff._; proposed that the princess mary should marry her half-brother, the duke of richmond, ; at the council of trent, . canisius, peter, a jesuit, _ff._, , , _f._ canon law in the elizabethan church, _f._ canus, alexandre, reformed preacher in geneva, . cany, madame de, . capistrano, john of, a revival preacher in the abruzzi, . capito, wolfgang, , , _n._, , . capucins, a reformation of the franciscans, _f._ caraffa, giovanni pietro, cardinal and later pope paul iv., member of the _oratory of divine love_, ; the _theatines_, _f._; character and training, ; an inquisitor, ; his conduct as pope, _f._; , . carlyle, thomas, on the thirty years' war, . caroli, pierre, accuses calvin of heresy, . carvajal, juan de, cardinal, . _cassel, confession of_, , _n._ castellio, sebastian, . _catechism, the racovian_, , . _catechism of the brethren, the_, . catechisms of the reformed church, the _heidelberg_, , _n._, ; calvin's, , ; craig's, . catharine of aragon, _ff._, , , , . catherine de' medici, wife of henry ii. of france, begins to reign, ; her children, _n._; and ladies' side-saddle, _n._; at poissy, _ff._; leader of the romanist party in france, ; matrimonial policy, ; dies, ; , , , , , . _cas communes_ and _cas privilégiés_, . cauvin, gerard, father of calvin, _ff._; . cecil, sir william, afterwards lord burghley, , , , _ff._, _f._, _f._, . _ceremonies of bern the_, _ff._ cervini, marcello, cardinal de santa croce, legate at the council of trent, , _ff._ chablais, district of, . chambéry, . _chambre ardente, the_, , , . chandieu, antoine de, minister at paris, . chapuis, jean, romanist in geneva, . chapuys, eustace, ambassador of charles v. in england, , . charles v., emperor of germany, disapproved of the bern _disputation_, ; how he inherited the netherlands, ; consolidates the netherlands, _ff._; establishes the inquisition there, ; increasing severity towards protestants, ; lutherans among his family, ; abdicates at brussels, ; and philip ii., _f._; persuaded that protestants and romanists may be re-united, , , ; , , , _f._, , , _f._, . charles ix., king of france, , , , , _f._ "charles x.," the league king of france. see _bourbon_. charles the bold, duke of burgundy, _f._, , . _chateaubriand, edict of_, _f._, , . _châtelet, the grand_ and _the petit_, prisons in paris, . _christian civic league_ (protestant), , . _christian philosophy, discourse on_, . _christian union, the_ (romanist), . _christianæ religionis institutio_. see _institutio_. _church_, calvin's _doctrine of the_, , , . _church, doctrine of the_, among the anabaptists, . _church, doctrine of the_, among the socinians, _f._ _church, doctrine of the_, at the regensburg conference, _f._ _classis_, ecclesiastical court in dutch church, . clement, jacques, assassinates henry iii., _f._ clement vii. see popes. clergy, dissolute lives at geneva, _n._; disliked in england, , . codure, jean, the jesuit, . cognac, a huguenot stronghold, _f._ colleges in paris, de la marche, ; de ste barbe, , and _n._; de montaigu, _f._, ; fortet, ; de navarre, _n._ colleges founded in spain by ximenes, . colleges, french, seed-beds of the reformation, . colet, dean, , . coliguy, gaspard de, admiral of france, at the _assembly of notables_, ; at the states-general, ; at poissy, ; in la rochelle, _f._; attempted assassination of, ; murdered by guise, ; , , , . _colloquy_, an ecclesiastical court in the french protestant church, . colloquy at marburg, . colloquy at poissy, , _ff._ colonna, vittoria, _f._, , , , _n._ colporteurs, french protestant, . _commentary on the psalms_, calvin's, , . _communism_ among the anabaptists, , , _f._ como, lake of, . _company of jesus, the_, the beginnings of the, , _f._; its constitution, _f._, and _n._; power in the hands of the general, _f._; limitations to his power, ; rapid spread of the order, ; and the council of trent, ; and the counter-reformation, ; and education, . _compromise, the_ (netherlands), . _complutensian polyglot, the_, . _conciergerie_, huguenot prison in paris, . concordat, the spanish, of , . conference at westminster, , _ff._ confession, augsburg, , , , . confessions of the reformed churches, , _n._, _n._; _consensus tigurinus_, ; _confession of genecu_, ; _confession of waldenses of the durance_, ; the _belgic confession_, _f._; the scots' confession, , _f._; the _confession of the french church_, _f._; _helvetic confession_ (second), . _congregation, the_ (in the scottish reformation church), , , _f._ _congregation, the_ (in western switzerland), _n._ _congregation of the holy office, the_ (inquisition), . _congregation of the index, the_, _f._ _consilium ... de emendenda ecclesia_, . _consilium ... super reformatione sanctæ romanæ ecclesiæ_, . consistorial ecclesiastical organisation, , . _consistory_, of bern, , ; of geneva, _f._; in the french church, _f._; in the dutch church, _ff._ constance, bishop of, _f._, , , , ; bishopric of, ; city of, _f._; lake of, . _consulta_, the confidential advisers of the regent of the netherlands, _f._ contarini, gasparo, senator of venice and cardinal, member of the _oratory of divine love_, ; character and training, ; and calvin, ; sent as legate to germany, _ff._; at the regensburg conference, _ff._; returns to italy, . continental divines in england, and _n._ convocation (england), , , _f._, , _f._, , , , . cop, nicolas, , , , . _cope_, _f._ _n._, and _n._, . coraut, elie, the blind preacher of geneva, _n._, and _n._, . cordier, mathurin, teacher of calvin, and _n._, , . cortese, gregorio, abbot of san giorgio maggiore, , . _council general of the union of catholics_ (france), . _council of sens_ (france), . _council of tumults_, or the _bloody tribunal_ (netherlands), . coutras, battle of, . _covenants_ in scottish church history, _f._, . cox, dr., bishop of ely, , _n._ cranmer, thomas, archbishop of canterbury, trial and martyrdom, _ff._; _recantations_ of, ; , , _f._, , , , . craw (crawar), paul, in scotland, . crescentio, marcello, cardinal, sole legate at the second meeting of the council of trent, . cromwell, thomas, earl of essex, , , , . _curia, the_, , , , , , , . _curialism_, at the council of trent, , , ; its triumph there, . cybó, caterina, princess of camerino, , . dalbiac, charles, french protestant minister, . damasus, pope, . danès, pierre, "royal lecturer" in paris, . daniel, francis, correspondent of calvin, _n._ danube, river, . dathenus, peter, metrical version of the psalms in dutch, . dauphiné, _n._, . deventer, full of anabaptists, _f._ davidis, francis, anti-trinitarian, . _declaration of bremen, the_, . _declaration of the principal articles of religion_ (england), . _decretals, the_, . _decretum pro armenis_, used at the council of trent, . _defensor pacis, the_, of marsiglio of padua, . delft, town of, . democracy and autocracy (knox and mary), . denck, hans, humanist and anabaptists, , _f._, . dendermonde, . dentière, marie, wife of froment, _n._ _device, the_ (england), . diane de poitiers, , , . dieppe, john knox at, . _diet, the swiss_, at luzern, ; at baden, . dillenburg, the synod of, _n._ _discipline de l'excommunication_, . discipline, ecclesiastical, _ff._, ; opposition to, in geneva, ; how exercised in geneva, ; to be exercised through secular authority, _f._, _f._, . _discipline écclésiastique des églises reformées de france_, , . _discipline, first book of_ (scotland), , _ff._ _disputation, public_, at zurich, _f._; at basel, ; at bern, , ; at geneva, _ff._, ; at lausanne, ; at zurich on baptism, _ff._; at münster, ; on baptism, ; the leipzig, . divara, wife of jan matthys, , . _divorce, the_ (henry viii.), , _f._, . _dizennier_, office in geneva, . _dogmatic tradition and the inner light_, . dorne, john, bookseller in oxford ( ), . dufour, louis, citizen of geneva sent to persuade calvin to return, . dundee, , , . dykes in the netherlands, , . easter day communion in england, _ff._ ecclesiastical organization, in geneva, , ; in france, _ff._; in the netherlands, _f._; in scotland, _f._; among the anabaptists, . eck, johann, the antagonist of luther. see _maier_. economic changes in england, _f._; , . edicts, french, concerning the reformation, of _fontainebleau_, ; of _chateaubriand_, _f._, , ; of _compiègne_, ; of _ramorantin_, ; of _amboise_, _f._; of _saint germains_, ; of _beaulieu_, ; of _bergerac_, ; of _nemours_, ; of _nantes_, , _ff._ edinburgh, . edinburgh, university of, . edward vi. of england, , _f._; , . _Église plantée_ and _église dressée_, . egmont, lamoral, count of, , _f._, _f._, . egmont, nicolas van, an inquisitor, . _eidguenots_ of geneva, . einsiedeln, , . _elders_ in the scottish church, appointed by the _congregation_, . eléanor de roye, wife of louis of condé, , . elizabeth, queen of england, threatened excommunication, _n._, _f._; seizes spanish treasure ships, ; and knox's _blast_, , ; dislikes calvin's theology, ; carefully watched during the reign of mary, ; her death recommended by charles v., ; succeeds to the crown, ; declares herself a protestant, _ff._; looked on as a bastard and a heretic by the romanist powers, ; threatened with the fate of the king of navarre, , ; first proclamation, ; exhibits her protestantism to her people, ; difficulties of her government in the _alteration of religion_, ; her first parliament, ; shelters herself under the peace of augsburg, , _n._, ; communicates in both "kinds," and _n._; , , , , , . emden, meeting of the netherlands protestants at, . _emden catechism_, _n._ episcopal government in switzerland, . _episcopus universalis_, . _epistolæ obscurorum virorum_, . erasmians, the spanish, . erasmus, and the reformed churches, _ff._, ; on indulgences, ; , _f._, , , , , , , , , , , , , . erasmus circle at basel, . _erastians_, , . _escadron volant de la reine_, , . esch, johann, martyr in the netherlands, , . este, cardinal hippolito de, . estienne, robert, parisian printer, , . _excommunication_. see _discipline_. _excommunication_ among the anabaptists, . _exercitia spiritualia_. see _spiritual exercises_. _exhorters_ in the scottish church, . faber, johann, archbishop of vienna. see _heigerlin, johann_. faber, peter, the jesuit, , , , . _face of a church_, the "congregation" assumes the, . fagius (büchlein), paul, . farel, william, at basel, ; early life, _n._; called a lutheran preacher, _n._; at aigle, _f._, ; the apostle of french-speaking switzerland, ; baptized his converts from romanism, _n._; organises a band of evangelists, and _n._; at villingen, ; sent by bern to geneva, ; in geneva during the siege, ; attempt to poison, and _n._; preaches in the cathedral at geneva, ; induces the council of geneva to abolish the mass, ; struggle against the evil morals of the town, ; character and marriage, ; joined by calvin, ; at the lausanne _disputation_, ; his "congregation," _n._; banished from geneva, and _n._, - , , _n._, , , _ff._, . feckenham, abbot of westminster _n._ ferdinand of austria, and the excommunication of elizabeth, _n._; on the protestants in vienna, ; and the anabaptists, , . feria, count de, ambassador of philip of spain, , . ferrar, robert, bishop of st. david's, . ferrara, renée, duchess of, , . ferriere, sieur de la, . ficino, marsiglio, and marguerite of navarre, . flag of the swiss confederacy, . _flying squadron._ see _escadron_. fontainebleau, edict of, ; _f._ foxe, edward, bishop of hereford, _f._ foxe, john, the martyrologist, . francis i. of france, alternately protects and persecutes the reformers, f., , _ff._; calvin's letter to, ; founds the "royal lectureships" at paris, _f._ francis of assisi, _ff._, . franciscans and the reformation, . franciscans, reformation among the, _f._ frankfurt congregation of english exiles, ; . _frankfurt conference_, . _frankfurt fair_, . frederick, elector of the palatinate, becomes a calvinist, , _n._ fregoso, fred., archbishop of salerno, , . freiburg, swiss canton, strongly romanist, , , _n._, , ; . _frenchman, this (iste gallus)_, and _n._, . friesland, east, an anabaptist place of refuge, . forest cantons, and the reformation, , ; at war with zurich, ; . froben, printer at basel, . froment, antoine, at villingen, ; in geneva, _f._; his wife a preacher, _n._; contest with furbiti, _f._; during the siege of geneva, . furbiti, guy, romanist preacher in geneva, _ff._ gallars, nicholas des, minister of french protestants in london, . gallen, st., , , , , , , . gardiner, stephen, bishop of winchester, , , , , . geelen, jan van, an anabaptist leader, . gemblours, . geneva, city of, history and constitution, _ff._; parties in, ; bern and freiburg, ; "the gate of western switzerland," , ; town councils in, ; luther's writings in, _n._; turbulent priests in, and _n._; the affair of furbiti in, - ; plot to seize the town, ; besieged by the bishop and the duke of savoy, ; attempt to poison the reformed preachers in, and _n._; _public disputation_ in, _ff._; mass abolished provisionally in, ; completely, ; _disputation_ before the council, ; becomes an independent republic, ; motto _post tenebras lux_, ; evil living in, and _n._; the _articles_ of _ff._; adopts the ceremonies of bern, _ff._; banishes calvin and farel, _ff._; begs calvin to return, _ff._; the _ecclesiastical ordinances_ of, ; _consistory_ of, _f._; the ministry in, _f._; what calvin did for, _ff._; a city of refuge, ; "the dogs of geneva," ; sends missionaries to the netherlands, , ; , , , . geneva, bishop of, _f._, , _f._; amadeus viii. of savoy, ; pierre de la baume, , _f._, , . geneva, vidomne of, , . gentili, anti-trinitarian, . german national council feared by the pope, _n._ german protestant opinion of henry viii., . _german vulgate_, . germany and the counter-reformation, _f._ _germany_, name given to an inn at cambridge, , . gex, district of, . ghent, city of, , . glapion, confessor to charles v. and luther, . glareanus (heinrich loriti). see _loriti_. glarus, a swiss canton, , _f._ goch, john pupper of, , . goderick, english lawyer, and his _advice_, . gonzaga, eleonora, duchess of urbino, . gonzaga, ercole di, cardinal of mantua, principal legate at the third meeting of the council of trent, . gonzaga, julia, . grace, pilgrimage of, . grandson, in the pays de vaud, , , . granvelle, antoine perronet de, cardinal and bishop of arras, , , . graphæus, cornelius, . grassis, matteo, founder of the capucins, _f._ graubünden, the (grisons), , _f._ grebel, conrad, humanist and anabaptist, , _f._ grey, lady jane, . gribaldo, giovanni valentino, an anti-trinitarian, . grindal, edmund, afterwards archbishop of canterbury, _n._, . groot, gerard, and the _brethren of the common lot_, , . guest, edmund, letter to cecil, and _n._ _gueux, les._ see _beggars_. guipuzcoa, the district in which loyola was born, . guises, the family of the, , and _n._, , , , , . guise, _francis_, duke of, , , _f._, , , _f._, . _charles_, brother of francis, cardinal of lorraine, , , , , , , . _louis_, brother of francis, cardinal of guise, , . _henry_, duke of, son of francis, _f._, , _f._ _charles_, duke of mayenne, son of francis, _f._, . haarlem, town of, _f._, . hagenau, _conference_ at, . hague, the, . haller, berthold, reformer of bern, _f._, _n._, . hamilton, patrick, _f._ hanseatic league, . hapsburg (the place), . heath, dr., archdeacon of canterbury, _f._ hegius (haag) alexander, . _heidelberg catechism_, , _n._ heigerlin, johann (faber), and _n._, , , . _helvetic confession, first_, _n._ henry ii. of france, consistently persecutes the protestants, . henry iii., , . henry iv. see _bourbon_. henry viii. of england, his policy towards scotland, _f._; had defended curialist claims, ; real doubts about the validity of his marriage, _f._; security of the kingdom demanded a male heir, ; expected the pope to declare his marriage invalid, ; appeals to the universities, ; _supreme head of the church_, ; uses the _annates_ to coerce the curia, ; separates from rome, _ff._; and the german protestants, _ff._, ; his theological learning, ; his will, ; and zwingli, , _f._, , . henry of condé. see _bourbon_. hesse-cassel becomes calvinist, . hildegard of bingen, _n._ hoen, cornelius van (sacramental controversy), . hoffman, melchior, _f._, , , , . _homilies, the twelve_ (england), . hoogstraten, . hooper, john, bishop of gloucester, , , , _f._, _f._ hôpital, michel de l', chancellor of france, , , . hopkins, thomas, metrical version of the psalms, . hübmaier, balthasar, anabaptist, _ff._, . hulst, francis van de, inquisitor, . humanism and the reformed churches, ; and the italian reformers, , . humanism, christian, . hus, john, . hussites, . hut, hans, anabaptist, . hymn-book of the brethren, , _ff._ iconoclasm in switzerland, , ; in france, , , ; in the netherlands, , ; in scotland, ; in münster, . ignatius loyola, family and early life, ; on his sick-bed, ; at manresa, _ff._; his visions, , , , ; and luther, , , ; his mysticism, ; at school at barcelona, ; imprisoned for heresy, ; in paris, _ff._; considered doctrines as military commands, ; in italy, _ff._; his preachers in italy, ; _society of jesus_ founded, _f._; elected _general_, _f._; seeks to win back germany, _ff._; his home mission work, ; an educated clergy, . iles de saintonge, church at, . see _saintonge_. illiteracy of english clergy, _f._ images, miraculous, destroyed, and _n._; , . _index of prohibited books_, _ff._; practice of burning books, _f._; various list of, ; _f._; effect on learning, . _indulgence_, in geneva, ; long objected to in the netherlands, ; , . _injunctions_ in england, of (henry viii.), , ; of (henry viii.), , ; of (edward vi.), ; of (mary), ; of elizabeth, , . _inner light, the_, _f._, . _inquisition_, three types of, ; the spanish, ; proposed in france, , ; in the netherlands, , ; in italy, , _ff._; , , , . _institutio, christianæ religionis_, based on the _apostles' creed_, ; on ecclesiastical government, ; what it did for the reformation, _f._; _ff._, , , , , . _instruction_, zwingli's, . _interim, the augsburg_, . irish missionaries in switzerland, . isabella of castile and the spanish reformation, . isoudun, . _italian heretic friars_, _n._ italy, religious condition of, _f._; the peasants, ; in the towns, . ivry, battle of, . james v. of scotland, . jarnac, battle, . jay, claude, jesuit, , , . jeanne d'albret, daughter of margaret of navarre, wife of antoine de bourbon and mother of henry iv. of france, declares herself a protestant, ; in la rochelle, ; consents to the marriage of her son with marguerite de valois, the daughter of catherine de' medici, ; , , . jeanne de jussie, chronicler nun of geneva, _n._; _n._, and _n._, _n._; . jesuits. see _company of jesus_. jesuits in france, ; in germany, . jewel, john, bishop of salisbury, , _n._, , , and _n._ john casimir in the netherlands, . john frederick of saxony and henry viii., , . john george of anhalt, . joinville, chateau of, ; treaty of, ; prince of, . jon, francis du, . _joyeuse entrée_ of brabant, . jud, leo, . _jurisdictionis potestas_, . _jus episcopale_ of civil rulers, . _justification of the prince of orange_, . _justification, the doctrine of_, at the regensburg conference, _ff._, ; at the council of trent, , _ff._ kaiser, a zurich pastor burnt as a heretic in schwyz, . kampen, . kappel, first peace of, ; second peace of, ; battle of, ; charter of, . _kata-baptists_, , . kessler, johann, . kibbenbroick, gerard, anabaptist burgomaster of münster, . _kinds_, taking the communion in both, a sign of protestantism, , , _n._ _king's book, the_, , , . kirkcaldy of grange, sir william, . _kirk-session_, ecclesiastical court in the scottish church, . klein-basel, . knipperdolling, bernhard, anabaptist, burgomaster of münster, ; , and _n._, . knox, john, early history, ; galley-slave in france, ; preaches in england, , _f._, , ; in switzerland and germany, ; marries marjory bowes, ; in scotland, ; in edinburgh, _ff._; rapidity of his work, ; and queen mary, _ff._; and the duke of somerset, . kolb, francis, preaches in bern, . krakau (cracow), a socinian centre, . kuiper, willem de, a disciple of jan matthys, . lainez, diego, jesuit, , , , , , , _f._, . lambert, francis, _n._ lasco, john à, polish refugee in england, . latimer, hugh, bishop of worcester, , , . laud, archbishop, . lausanne, bishop of, refuses to come to the bern _disputation_, , . lausanne, bishopric of, , , . lausanne, part of the pays-de-vaud, , , , ; reformation in, , , . league, the _perpetual_ (forest cantons), ; of _brunnen_, ; of the _house of god_ (rhætia), ; _the grey_ (grisons), ; of the _ten jurisdictions_, ; _the three perpetual, of rhætia_, ; _christian civic_, ; _borromean_, ; _the league_ against the huguenots, how it arose, _ff._; becomes disloyal, , , , ; _the league of paris_, ; the _sixteen_, . leclerc, jean, french protestant martyr, . leclerc, pierre, minister at meaux, . lecturers, royal. see _royal_. lefèvre d'Étaples, jacques (faber stapulensis) and humanism, ; and luther, , , ; wishes to restore the practices of the church of the first three centuries, ; inspired the "group of meaux," ; anticipated luther, ; translated the bible into french, ; a mystic, _n._ leib, kilian, salzburg chronicler, and the anabaptists, . leith, , . lenten fasting, . lesley, norman, . lethington, william maitland of. see _maitland_. leyden, anabaptist attempt on, ; siege of, ; university of, . leyden, jan of. see _bockelson_. _libertines_ in geneva, . lindau, . lindsay, sir david, scottish satirist, . lollards, in england, _f._, ; and anabaptists, _f._ _lords of the congregation_ (scotland), , , , . loriti, heinrich of glarus (glareanus), swiss humanist, _n._, _n._, . lorraine, the cardinal of. see _guise_. louis of condé. see _bourbon_. louis of nassau. see _nassau_. louise of savoy, mother of francis i., , . louvain, university of, and list of prohibited books, . loyola, ignatius. see _ignatius_. lupulus. see _wölfflin_. luther, on clerical marriage, ; influence on the reformed churches, _ff._; anticipations of his teaching, , ; and zwingli, , ; theory of the eucharist, , _f._; _ff._, , , , , , , , , _n._, , , , , , , , . luther's writings known in france, ; in england, ; in geneva, _n._; in scotland, . lutheran theologians invited to france, . _lutheran_, a name applied to all protestants, and _n._, , _n_., , , . lutherans lost part of germany to the reformed, . lutzern, , _f._; diet at, . lyons, church at, . maçon, jean le, first protestant minister in paris, . macronius, martin, . madruzzo, bishop of trent and cardinal, _ff._, , . madruzzo, ludovico, bishop of trent, . maier, johann, of eck, . mainz, archiepiscopal province of, . maitland, william, of lethington, , , , . _mamelukes_ (in geneva), . mangin, Étienne, of meaux, . manresa, dominican convent at, ; ignatius loyola at, . mantes, assembly of french protestants at, . manuel, nicholas, artist in bern, . manz, felix, swiss anabaptist martyr, _f._ marais-saint-germain, rue de, . marburg colloquy, the, . marcourt, antoine, author of the _placards_, . margaret of parma, , , , , . marguerite d'angoulême, sister of francis i., married the king of navarre, education and character, _ff._; her christian platonism, ; relations with briçonnet, ; with luther and calvin, ; the _heptameron_, ; accused of heresy, ; , _n._, _n._, _n._, , _f._, _f._ marguerite de valois, daughter of catherine de' medici, married to henry iv., . marignano, battle of, . marnix, john de, . marot, clement, his french psalms in geneva, _n._, ; in paris, ; , . marriage, regulations for, in geneva, _f._; of the clergy, ; "clerical," ; , . marsiglio ficino, . marsiglio of padua, . _martha houses_ (jesuit), . martyr vermigli, peter, . martyrs, in england under queen mary, _ff._; in the netherlands, , _f._; in scotland, _f._; in france, _ff._ mary of burgundy, daughter of charles the bold and grandmother of charles v., wife of maximilian, . mary of guise or lorraine, sister of francis duke of guise, and queen of james v. of scotland, , , _f._, . mary of hungary, regent of the netherlands, , , . mary, queen of england, reaction under, _ff._; marries philip, prince of spain; papal supremacy restored, ; romanist legislation, _f._; scruples about possession of ecclesiastical lands, ; death, _ff._; , , . mary, queen of scotland, educated in france, ; "the little queen," ; refuses to ratify the acts of the reforming estates, ; in scotland, _ff._; her coming dreaded, ; , , . massacres, at vassy, ; at sens, ; at toulouse, ; at rouen, ; at paris, ; of st. bartholomew, _f._, , ; at zutphen, ; at haarlem, . _matthew, thomas_, of matthew's bible, . maubert, place, where the protestants were burnt, . mayenne, duke of. see _guise_. _meaux, the group of_, _f._, , , , _ff._, . _meaux, the fourteen of_, , . meaux, protestant church in, _f._ mechlin burnt by the spaniards, . medici, giovanni giacomo de', a condottiere, . meersburg, . melanchthon, _n._, , , , , _ff._, . _melchiorites_, the, ; in münster, ; on _separation_, . mendoza, pedro, archbishop of toledo and cardinal, . _merindol, arrêt de_, . merlin, jean raymond, . meyer, sebastian, reformer of bern, . michelet, jules, on calvin, . milhaud, a huguenot stronghold, . milton, john, . ministry in the reformed churches, . mirabel, a huguenot stronghold, . _miroir de l'âme pécheresse_, _n._, . molard, the, in geneva, . monasteries, the dissolution of the, . moncontour, battle of, . monnikendam, . montauban, huguenot stronghold, , _f._, . monte cassino, . monte, gian maria giocchi, cardinal del, later pope julius iii., , . montmor, the family of, with whom calvin was educated, . montmorency, the constable de, , , , , , , . montpellier, huguenot stronghold, . montpensier, duchess of, a leaguer, , . montrose, . morals, municipal legislation concerning, , _n._, ; standard of, low in western switzerland, . morat, part of the pays de vaud, , . moray, james stewart, earl of, , . more, sir thomas, , , , , _f._ morel, minister in paris, . morgarten, the battle of, , . mornay du plessis, madame, way she dressed her hair, _n._ morone, giovanni de cardinal, , , , , , . _mortal sin_, jesuits wary of charging their penitents with, . muète, guérin, a leading evangelical in geneva, . mühlhausen, , , . müller, hans of medikon, anabaptist, . mundt, dr. christopher, cecil's agent in germany, and _n._ municipal life in the netherlands, . münster, bishop of, , . münster, city of, enrolled in the schmalkald league, ; besieged during the whole period of anabaptist rule, ; fall of, . _münster, kingdom of god in_, , , _ff._ _mysticism, spanish_, , _ff._, , . nacchianti, bishop of chioggia, on tradition and scripture, . nancy, . nantes, edict of, , _ff._ _nassau confession_, _n._ nassau, _william_ of, prince of orange, at the abdication of charles v., ; member of the council of state for the netherlands, ; protests against the treatment of the netherlands, ; not deceived by philip's duplicity, ; his _justification_, ; chosen stadtholder, ; governor of the seventeen provinces, ; reward offered for his assassination, ; his _apology_; ; assassinated, ; how he acquired the principality of orange-chalons, and _n._; his wives, _n._; his character, _f._ _louis_ of, , , , . _nassouwe, wilhelmus van_, . national characteristics reappear in the various reformed churches, . nemours, duchess of, . nérac, capital of french navarre, , . neuchâtel, , , , , . neuville, . _new learning, the_, , , , , , . nicene creed, ; at the council of trent, . nimes, , , . nisbet, murdoch, translated the new testament into scots, _n._ northumberland, john dudley, duke of, . _notables, assembly of_ (france), . _notables, assembly of_ (england), . novara, battle of, . noyon, birthplace of calvin, . nuns, in geneva, ; none among the jesuits, . ochino, bernardino, . oebli, hans, landamann of glarus, . oecolampadius, johannes (heusgen), at basel, ; on excommunication, ; , . oldenbarneveldt, john of, . olevianus, caspar, _n._ olivétan, pierre robert, translator of the bible into french, . ollon, part of the pays de vaud, . orange, prince of. see _nassau_. orange, principality of orange-chalons, _n._ _oratory, chambers of_ (netherlands), . _oratory of divine love, the_, , _f._ orbe, part of the pays de vaud, . _ordinis potestas_, . _ordonnances ecclésiastiques de l'Église de genève_, , _f._, . orleans, calvin at, ; church at, ; , . ormonts, part of the pays de vaud, . oxford, , , . _pacification of ghent_, _f._, . palatinate, becomes calvinist, . pampeluna, ignatius loyola, at the siege of, . pane, roletus de, romanist in geneva, . pantheist mysticism, , . paraphrases, erasmus', in the church of england, . paris, luther's writings in, and _n._; affair of the _placards_, ; prisons in, ; _league_ of, _ff._ paris' students songs, _f._ parker, dr. matthew, archbishop of canterbury, , , . parkhurst, john, bishop of norwich, _n._, . _parlement_, of paris and the reformation, _f._, , , , _f._, , , , , , , , , . _parlement_, of aix, , ; of bordeaux, , ; of dijon, ; of rouen, ; of toulouse, , . _parlements_, french, _n._, . _parliament for the enormities of the clergy_, , . parma, alexander farnese, duke of, , , , . parma, margaret of. see _margaret_. _patrick's places_, _n._ _patrimony of the kirk_, . paul iv., pope, _n._, , . see _caraffa_. paul, martin, of the graubünden, . payerne, , . pays de vaud, , , , , , _f._ _peace of monsieur_, . peasantry, italian, religious condition, ; devotion to francis of assisi and his imitators, . _peasants' war, the_, . _penance, doctrine of_, at the council of trent, . penney, . penz, jörg, pupil of albrecht dürer, anabaptist, . _picards_, , . picardy, character of the people, . pictures in churches (zurich), , . philip of hesse and the anabaptists, , , ; . philip ii. of spain, compared with charles v., _f._; policy of extirpation of protestants, ; minute knowledge of netherlands' affairs, _n._, . pius v., , . _placards_ (manifestoes) in geneva, _f._; in paris, about the mass, . _placards_ (government proclamations against the protestants) in the netherlands, , , , , . _platonism, christian_, , . poissy, _colloquy_ of, , _ff._, ; _conference_ at, ; _edict_ of, . poitiers, church at, _f._ pole, reginald, archbishop of canterbury, cardinal, member of the _oratory of divine love_, ; legate at the council of trent, ; , , f., , , _n._ _politiques, les_, . _polonorum, bibliotheca fratrum_, . _polygamy_, in münster, _ff._ _post tenebras lux_, . pope, the _primacy_ of the, , ; swiss bodyguard of the, ; power limited by the peace of augsburg, and _n._, , ; and bishops at the council of trent, _f._ see _curialism_. popes mentioned: innocent iii. ( - ), . julius ii. ( - ), , . leo x. ( - ), , _f._ adrian vi. ( - ), , _ff._ clement vii. ( - ), , ; advises henry viii. to bigamy, , . paul iii. ( - ), reforms under, , ; , , , , , , , ; and the council of trent, and _n._, . julius iii. ( - ), council of trent under, and _n._, . marcellus ii. ( ), . paul iv. ( - ), council of trent under, and _n._, , ; . pius iv. ( - ), his policy of reformation, . pius v. ( - ), . sixtus v. ( - ), . _præmunire, statutes of_, . _pragmatic sanction of bourges_, . _prayer-book of king edward vi., the first_, _f._, , _n._ _prayer-book of king edward iv., the second_, , and _n._, _f._, _f._, , , and _n._, . _prayer-book of elizabeth_, _ff._, , , . _praying circles_ or _readings_ among the _brethren_, . _pre-aux-clercs, the_, psalm-singing at, , ; . _presence of the body of christ in the sacrament of the supper_, _ff._ privas, a huguenot stronghold, . privileges of nobles in france in the sixteenth century, . _processions expiatory_, in paris, . _proclamations about religion_, by mary, ; by elizabeth, . _psalms_, calvin's _commentary on the_, , . psalms, singing of the, in the vernacular, and _n._, , _f._; in the netherlands, ; in england, ; clement marot's, and _n._, . _pseaumes_ included religious canticles, _n._ _purgatory, the doctrine of_, attacked, , , . _puritanism_, the beginnings of, . puy, cardinal du, prefect of the inquisition, . _queen, the little_, _f._ quignon, cardinal, a liturgist, . quintin, dr., speaker for the clergy at the states-general of , . randolph, sir thomas, elizabeth's ambassador in scotland, , . ratisbon. see _regensburg_. _readers_ in the scottish church, . _readings_, . _rebaptism_, _n._; , . reformation of the mediæval church demanded by all, . reformed churches, confraternity among the, ; confessions. see _confessions_. reformers in italy, _f._ _regensburg, the conference at_, _ff._; was the parting of the ways, . regents in the netherlands, _margaret of austria_, ; _mary_, widowed queen of hungary, , ; margaret of parma, , , , , ; the duke of alva, see _alva_; alexander farnese, duke of parma, see _parma_. _relics_ destroyed in england, , and _n._ _religion, those of the_, . _religion, the alteration of_, . renaissance, the, , . renan, ernest, on calvin, . renard, simon, envoy of charles v. in england, . renato, camillo, . renaudie, godefroy de barry, seigneur de la, . renée, duchess of ferrara. see _ferrara_. requesens-y-zuniga, don louis, . _request, the_ (netherlands), . _reservatio ecclesiastica_, . _restitution, the_, defends polygamy in münster, . rhætia, . richmond, henry fitzroy, duke of, . ridley, nicholas, bishop of london, , , , _f._, , , . riots in geneva, , . rocco di musso, on the lake of como, . rocheblond, sieur de la, founder of the _paris league_, _f._ rochelle, la, huguenot stronghold, _f._, , . rodriguez, simon, jesuit, , . rogers, john, , . roll, heinrich, anabaptist, . roman civil law and ecclesiastical rule, . romanist reaction in europe, . roser, isabella, and ignatius loyola, and _n._, . rothmann, bernhard, anabaptist leader in münster, _ff._; his _theses_, ; doctrine of the holy supper, _f._; accepts polygamy with difficulty, _f._; death, . rotterdam, . _rotuli scotiæ, the_, . röubli, william, first swiss priest to marry, . rouen, church at, . rough, john, scottish preacher, . roussel, gerard, , . _royal lecturers_ in paris, , . _rubric, the black_, on kneeling at the lord's supper, , _n._ _rubric, ornaments_, of , and _n._ _rule of faith, doctrine of the_, at the council of trent, , _ff._ ruysbroec, jan van, the mystic, . sacrament of the holy supper, ought to be celebrated weekly, and _n._; both "kinds" partaken, , ; discussed at the regensburg conference, _f._; doctrine of, defined at the council of trent, , _ff._ sacramental controversy, bern _theses_ and the, ; in the netherlands and the rhine provinces, ; carlstadt's views, ; zwingli's views permeate german cities, ; controversy complicated by political ideas, ; common thoughts about the sacrament of the holy supper, ; eucharist and mass, ; zwingli's theory, ; luther's theory, ; calvin's theory accepted in switzerland, ; and in part of germany, . _sacramentarians_, name given to the followers of zwingli, . sadoleto, giacomo, cardinal, , . saint-andré, marshal, , , . saint andrews, . saint bartholomew, massacre of, ; medal struck in rome in honour of, and _n._ saint denis, henry iv. received into the roman church at, ; battle of, . saint germains, . saint jacques, rue de, in paris, , . saint omer, . sainte aldegonde, philip de marnix, lord of, . st. gallen. see _gallen_. salamanca, university of, . salic law, in france, ; believed to hold in england, . salmeron, alonzo, jesuit, , , , , . salzburg, anabaptists in, ; . sam, conrad, of ulm, . samson or sanson, bernhard, a seller of indulgences, . sancerre, huguenot stronghold, . sandilands, sir james, . sandys, edwin, archbishop of york. . saunier, antoine, swiss evangelist, _n._ savoy, ; duke of, , , , , , . schaffhausen, swiss canton, , , , , , . _schifanoya, ii._, venetian agent in england, , and _n._ schmalkald, , . _schmalkald, defender of the_, . _schmalkald league, the_, and münster, . schröder, johann, anabaptist preacher in münster, . schwyz, forest canton, burnt pastor kaiser of zurich as a heretic, ; _f._, . scot, bishop, _n._ scotland, and _heidelberg catechism_, _n._; preparation for the reformation, ; influence of old celtic church, _f._; lollardy in, _f._; acts of parliament to suppress reformation, ; french or english alliance, _ff._, ; place in the european situation, ; english invasion, ; _confession of faith, book of discipline, book of common order_, _ff._ scoto-pelagian theology, , . scottish church and civil supremacy, . _scottish liturgy_ and english alliance, ; . scripture, holy. see _rule of faith_. sea-beggars, the, capture brill, ; defeat spanish fleet, , ; relieve leyden, ; . secular control over ecclesiastical matters, , ; in spain, . sempach, battle of, . seneca, _de clementia_, , . senlis, battle of, . sens, the french council of, . seripando, girolamo, general of the augustinian eremites, on the _doctrine of justification_, . servede (servetus) miguel de, _monument expiatoire_ to, _f._; and _n._, . seville, college at, . _signa exhibitiva_ and _representativa_, . simon, preacher at aigle, . simonetta, luigi, cardinal, duties at trent, . simons, menno, organised baptist churches, , . _sin, doctrine of_, at the regensburg conference, _f._; at the council of trent, _f._ singing, congregational, . sion, the bishop of, . _sixteen, the_, , , . sixtus v., pope, _f._ socinianism began with a criticism of doctrines, ; and humanism, ; and scotist theology, ; its idea of _faith_, ; of _scripture_, ; god is _dominium absolutum_, _ff._; the atonement superfluous, ; doctrine of the _church_, _ff._ socimians called the _polish brethren_, . soleure, . solothurn, swiss canton, . somerset, edward seymour, duke of, lord protector of england, , , , . sommières, huguenot stronghold, . sorbonne, the, the theological faculty in the university of paris, drafts a series of articles against calvin's _institutio_, ; its list of prohibited books, , ; , , , _f._, . sozzini, fausto, founder of the socinian church, , , ; found that the polish unitarians were anabaptists, . sozzini, lelio, and _n._, _f._, . _space, presence in_, , , _f._ spaniards and luther, , _f._ _spanish fury, the_, . spanish treasure ships seized by queen elizabeth, . spanish troops in the netherlands, , . spanish idea of a reformation, _ff._ speyer, . _spiritual exercises, the_, , , - , , , , . _stäbler or staffmen, the_, anabaptists, . stadt, karl, on the sacramental controversy, . _staffort book, the_, _n._ staprade, anabaptist preacher in münster, . states-general, the, of france, , _ff._, _f._, , ; of the netherlands, , . stipends of clergy, . stoicism and the reformed theology, . straelen, anthony van, . strassburg, , , , , , _f._, , , , . _submission of the clergy_ (england), . _substance_ and _presence_, , _f._ _superintendents_ in the scottish church, , . supper, doctrine of the holy, at the regensburg conference, _f._, at the council of trent, . _supreme governor of the church_ (england), , _f._ _supreme head of the church_ (england), , , and _n._ swiss soldiers, _f._, . switzerland, political condition, _ff._, how christianised, ; religious war in, . synod of the _brethren_, . synod of the _socinians_ at krakau, . _synods_ of the reformed churches, at _bern_, , ; at _lausanne_, ; at _zurich_, ; in the _french protestant church_, , ; at _mantes_, ; in the _dutch church_, ; difficulties in the way of a _national dutch synod_, ; in scotland, . talavera, fernando de, confessor to isabella of castile, . temples (churches), . _ten articles, the_, of the english church, , _ff._ teresa, saint, , , . _testament and complaynt of the papyngo_, . theatre, french, and the reformation, . _theses_, zwingli's _sixty-seven_, . _theses of bern, the ten_, , _f._ _thèses évangéliques de genève, the_, . _thèses, évangéliques of lausanne_, . _theses_, luther's, . _theses_, rothmann's, . _thirty-eight articles, the_. see _articles_. _thirty-nine articles_. see _articles_. thirty years' war, . thomas aquinas, st., , , , . thomas of canterbury, st., . _thomism, the new_, arose in spain, _f._; at the council of trent, , , , . thorens, seigneur de, his house used in geneva by the evangelicals, _n._ throckmorton, sir nicholas, elizabeth's ambassador in paris, _f._ thyez, the people of, and secular excommunication, _n._; . _tiger of france, epistle sent to the_, . tithes, attacked, , . toggenburg valley, . toledo, college at, . torquemada, thomas de, inquisitor, _f._ _tournelle, la_, criminal court of the _parlement_ of paris, . tournon, cardinal de, , . tours, church at, ; battle at, ; henry iv. at, , , . _tradition, dogmatic_, , _f._ _transubstantiation_, , . trent, city of, _f._ trent, council of; _first meeting_, - ; papal legates at, _f._; differences among the romanist powers at, _f._; debates on procedure, _ff._; _second meeting_, - ; definition of the doctrine of the sacraments, _ff._; _third meeting_, _ff._; varying views about the reorganisation of the church, _ff._; was to be a continuation of the former council, ; procedure at, _f._; work of cardinal simonetta at, ; what the council did for the roman catholic church, ; its list of prohibited books, ; , _f._, , . _triumvirate, the_, montmorency, st. andré and guise, , , . tschudi, peter, a humanist, _n._ _tulchan bishops_, and _n._ tunstall, cuthbert, bishop of durham, , . _twelve articles, the_ (the apostles' creed), . _twenty-one articles, the_, of the anabaptists, , . tyndale, william, , , , _ff._, . _ubiquity, doctrine of_, , , , _f._ udall, nicholas, translated into english the paraphrases of erasmus, . ulm, . _uniformity_. see _act of_. unterwalden, a forest canton, _f._, . uri, a forest canton, _f._, . ursinus, zachary, _n._ utrecht protests against alva's taxation, . vadianus. see _watt_. valais, the, , ; the bishop of the, . valladolid, university of, . val tellina, the, . vargas, juan de, . vassy, massacre at, _f._ vatable, francis, a royal lecturer in paris, . vax, antonia, attempts to poison farel and others, and _n._ vermigli, peter martyr, . _vestments (ornaments)_, controversy about, , , and _n._ _vicar-general_ (england), . vidomne of geneva, , . vienna, university of, , . viret, pierre, in geneva, _ff._, . _visitation_, spanish crown had the right of ecclesiastical, . _visitations_ of the church in england, ; , , . vlissingen (flushing), seized by the _sea-beggars_, . voes, heinrich, martyr in the netherlands, , . volkertz, jan, anabaptist martyr, . _vulgate, the latin_, and the council of trent, _f._ wagner, sebastian, and _n._ walcheren, island of, , . _waldenses_, , . waldshut, the _brethren_ met at, . wallen, jan, anabaptist martyr, . war of public weal in france, ; religious wars in france, _ff._; in switzerland, _ff._; of the moors and christians in spain, . warham, william, archbishop of canterbury, , , , , , . watt, joachim de (vadianus), a humanist, _n._, . watteville, m. de, advoyer of bern, ; nicholas de, and _n._; j. j. de, advoyer of bern, _n._, . _weekly exercise, the_ (scotland), . _welches, la dispute de_, . werly, pierre, a turbulent canon of geneva, , and _n._, _n._ wesen, . wessel, john of, , . westminster, conference at, , _ff._ wiclif, , _f._; influence in scotland, . _wiclifites_, , . wieck, van der, lutheran syndic of münster, _f._, . wied, hermann von, archbishop of köln, , . _wild-beggars, the_, . wildermuth, a soldier of bern, . wildhaus, zwingli's birthplace, . _wilhelmus van nassouwe_, . willebroek, . william of orange. see _nassau_. wishart, george, scottish martyr, . wittenberg, , , . _wittenberg articles, the_, . _wittenberg concord_, . wölfflin, heinrich (lupulus), . wolmar, melchior, taught calvin at bourges, . wolsey, cardinal, , , , , , . _works, merit in_, . worms, conference at, , , . worms, diet of, three forces met at, . würtemburg, . wyatt, sir thomas, . wyttenbach, thomas, , , , . xavier, francis, , , . ximenes de cisneros, francesco, cardinal, _ff._, , , . yaxley, francis, agent of mary of scotland, _n._ ypres, . zug, swiss canton, , . zurich, great council in, , _ff._; _public disputations_ in, _f._; at war with the forest cantons, ; _consensus of_, ; synod at, ; ecclesiastical discipline in, ; anabaptists in, . zutphen burnt by the spaniards, . zutphen, hendrik of, , . _zwickau prophets_, . zwingli, bartholomew, dean of wesen, _f._ zwingli, huldreich, the elder, . zwingli, huldreich, youth and education, ; moral character, ; humanism and, , ; and luther, , _f._; comes to zurich, _ff._; his _sixty-seven theses_, _n._, ; and anna reinhard, ; theory of civil control over the church, , , , ; on indulgences, ; views on the sacrament of the holy supper, ; on ecclesiastical excommunication, _f._, ; and the anabaptists, . zwinglianism, . zwolle, full of anabaptists, . _printed by_ morrison & gibb limited _edinburgh_ footnotes: [footnote : the fierce old pontiff, paul iv., declared in a bull (feb. , ) that the mere fact of heresy in princes deprived them of all lawful power; but he named no one. when his successor proposed, in , to excommunicate elizabeth of england by name simply as a protestant, he was taken to task sharply by the emperor ferdinand; and the queen was finally excommunicated in as a partaker "in the atrocious mysteries of calvinism," and as such outside the peace of augsburg.] [footnote : in the _atlas zur kirchengeschichte_ by heussi and mulert (tübingen, ), there is an attempt to represent to the eye the presence of german protestants outside the territories of the lutheran princes; map x. _zur geschichte der deutschen reformation und gegenreformation_.] [footnote : the fullest account of these german reformed confessions is to be found in müller's _die bekenntnisschriften der reformirten kirche_--the _emden catechism_ ( ), pp. and ; the _heidelberg catechism_ ( ), pp. , ; the _nassau confession_ of the dillenburg synod ( ), liii, ; the _bremen consensus_ ( ), liv, ; the _staffort book_ ( ) for baden, liv, ; the _confession of the general synod of cassel_, lv and , and the _hessian catechism_ ( ), ; and the _bentheim confession_ ( ), . all these german reformed confessions followed melanchthon in his endeavours to unite the calvinist and the lutheran doctrinal positions. by far the most celebrated, and the only one which maintains its place as a doctrinal symbol down to the present day, is the _heidelberg catechism_. it was drafted at the suggestion of the elector frederick the pious by two theologians, caspar olevianus and zacharias ursinus, who were able to express in a really remarkable degree the thoughts of german protestants who could not accept the hard and fast lutheranism of the opponents of melanchthon. it speedily found favour in many parts of germany, although its strongest supporters belonged to the rhine provinces. it was in use both as a means of instruction and as a doctrinal symbol in most of the german reformed churches along with their own symbolical books. its use spread to holland and beyond it. two separate translations appeared in scotland. the earlier is contained in (dunlop's) _collection of confessions of faith.... of public authority in the church of scotland_, under the title, _a catechism of the christian religion, composed by zachary ursinus, approved by frederick iii. elector palatine, the reformed church in the palatinate, and by other reformed churches in germany; and taught in their schools and churches: examined and approved, without any alteration, by the synod of dort, and appointed to be taught in the reformed churches and schools in the netherlands: translated and printed anno by public authority for the use of scotland, with the arguments and use of the several doctrines therein contained, by jeremias bastingius; sometimes printed with the book of common order and psalm book._] [footnote : compare vol. i. pt. i. _ff._] [footnote : the most complete collection of those reformed creeds is given in müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformirten kirche_ (leipzig, ). the most important are the following (the figures within brackets give the pages in müller):-- switzerland.--zwingli's _theses_ of (xvi, ); _first helvetic confession_ of (xxvi, ); _geneva confession_ of (xxvi, ); _geneva catechism_ of [(xxviii, ) translated in (dunlop's) _confessions_, etc., ii, ]. england.--edwardine _forty-two articles_ of , _thirty-eight articles_ of , _thirty-nine articles_ of (xlii, ); _lambeth articles_ of (xliv, ); _irish articles_ of (xliv, ). scotland.--_scottish confession_ of , _national covenant_ of [(xxxv, ), (dunlop's) _confessions_, etc., ii. pp. and ]. france.--_confessio gallicana_ of (xxxii, ). netherlands.--_confessio belgica_ of (xxxiv, ); _netherlands confession_ of (xxxv, ); _frisian confession_ of (xxi, ). hungary.--_hungarian confession_ of (xxviii, ). bohemia.--_bohemian confession_ of (xxxix, ).] [footnote : it has been suggested that the ecclesiastical jurisdiction which grew out of the elizabethan settlement of religion in england borrowed not a few characteristics from the lutheran consistorial courts.] [footnote : william farel, a devoted zwinglian, was called a "lutheran preacher" by the authorities of freiburg (herminjard, _correspondance_, ii. _n._), and the teaching of himself and his colleagues was denounced as the "lutheran heresy." this was the _popular_ view. educated and reforming frenchmen like lefèvre discriminated: they had no great liking for luther, and admired zwingli (_ibid._ i. _n._).] [footnote : peter tschudi, writing to beatus rhenanus from paris (may th, ) says: "reliqui, quod equidem literis dignum censeam, nil superest, quam m. lutheri opera ab universa eruditorum cohorte obviis ulnis excipi, etiam iis qui minimum sapiunt plausibilia" (herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_, nd ed. i. ). in nov. , glareanus wrote to zwingli that paris was excited over the leipzig disputation; and bulæus shows that twenty copies of a pamphlet, entitled _disputatio inter egregios viros et doctores joa. eckium et m. lutherum_, arrived in paris on jan. th, (_ibid._ , _n._).] [footnote : a. rilliet, _les origines de la confédération suisse: histoire et légende_ (geneva, ); j. dierauer, _geschichte der schweizerischen eidgenossenschaft_ (gotha, ).] [footnote : sources: o. myconius, "vita huldrici zwinglii" (in neander's _vitæ quatuor reformatorum_, berlin, ); h. bullinger, _reformationsgeschichte_ (frauenfeld, - ); johann salat, _chronik der schweizerischen reformation von deren anfüngen bis _ (vol. i. _of archiv für schweizerische reformationsgeschichte_, solothurn, ); kessler, _sabbata_ (ed. by egli, st. gall, ); strickler, _actensammlung zur schweizerischen reformationsgeschichte in den jahren - _ (zurich, - ); egli, _actensammlung zur geschichte der züricher reformation, - _ (zurich, ); w. gisi, _actenstücke zur schweizergeschichte der jahre - _ (vol. xv. of _archiv für die schweizer. geschichte_), pp. - ; herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ (geneva, - ); stähelin _briefe aus der reformationszeit_ (basel, ). later books: stähelin, _huldreich zwingli: sein leben und wirken nach den quellen dargestellt_, vols. (basel, - ); mörikofer, _ulrich zwingli nach den urkundlichen quellen_, vols. (leipzig, - ); s. m. jackson, _huldreich zwingli, - _ (new york, ); _cambridge modern history_, ii. x. (cambridge, ); ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, ed. by vulliemin, vols. (paris, - ).] [footnote : joachim de watt, a native of st. gallen (b. , december ) was a distinguished scholar. he became successively physician, member of council, and burgomaster in his native town, and did much to establish the reformation; he was a well-known author, and wrote several theological works.] [footnote : heinrich loriti was the most distinguished of all the swiss humanists. he studied successively at bern, vienna, and köln, and attained the barren honour of being made court-poet to the emperor maximilian. at basel, where he first settled, he kept a boarding school for boys who wished to study the classics, and in he transferred himself and about twenty young switzers, his pupils, to paris. he modelled his school, he was pleased to think, on the lines of the roman republic, was consul himself, had a senate, a prætor, and meetings of comitia. he remained a fast friend of zwingli.] [footnote : johann heigerlin (faber) remained a steadfast romanist. he became vicar-general to the bishop of constance, and as such was an antagonist of zwingli. he ended his days as bishop of vienna. he wrote much against luther, and was known as the "hammer of the lutherans." along with eck and cochlæus, he was the distinguished champion of the romanist cause in germany.] [footnote : for details about zwingli's papal pension, cf. s. m. jackson, _huldreich zwingli_, p. .] [footnote : cf. schaff, _creeds of the evangelical protestant churches_ (london, ), p. ; niemeyer, _collectio confessionum in ecclesiis reformalis, publicatarum_ (leipzig, ), p. ; müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche: zwinglis theses von _, art. , p. .] [footnote : müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_ (leipzig, ), pp. xviii and . the _instruction_ is a lengthy document.] [footnote : literal translations of these hymns are given in professor macauley jackson's _huldreich zwingli, the reformer of german switzerland_ (new york and london, ), pp. , .] [footnote : stähelin, _briefe aus der reformationszeit_, pp. - .] [footnote : william farel was born in at a village near gap in the mountainous south-east corner of dauphiné, on the border of provence. he belonged to a noble family, and was devout from his earliest years. he describes a pilgrimage which he made as a child in his book _du vray usage de la croix de jésus-christ_ (pp. _f._). all through his adventurous life he preserved his rare uprightness of character, his fervent devotion, and his indignation at wrong-doing of all kinds. he persuaded his parents to allow him to go to paris for education, and reached the capital about . he probably spent twelve years there, partly as student and partly as professor in the college le moine. there he became the friend and devoted disciple of jacques lefèvre d'Étaples, and this friendship carried him safely through several religious crises in his life. he followed lefèvre to meaux, and was one of the celebrated "group" there. when persecution and the timidity or scruples of the bishop caused the dispersion of these preachers, farel went back to dauphiné and attempted to preach the gospel in gap. he was not allowed _parce qu'il n'estoit ne moine ne prestre_, and was banished from the district by bishop and people. he next tried to preach in guyenne, where he was equally unsuccessful. thinking that there was no place in france open to him, he took himself to basel. there he asked the university to allow him to hold a public disputation on certain articles which he sent to them. the authorities refused. he then addressed himself to the council of the city, who permitted the discussion. the thirteen articles or _theses_ defended by farel are given in herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ (i. , ). he gathered a little church of french refugees at basel (the _ecclesiola_ of his correspondence), but was too much the ardent and impetuous pioneer to remain quietly among them. by the end of july he was preaching at montbèliard, some miles to the south of belfort, and the riots which ensued caused oecolampadius to beseech him to temper his courage with discretion (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc., i. ). he went thence to strassburg (april ), to bern, attempted to preach in neuchâtel, and finally (middle of november ) opened a school at aigle, an outlying dependency of bern, hoping to get opportunity to carry on his evangelistic work. he was soon discovered, and attempts were made to prevent his preaching; but the authorities of bern insisted that he should be unmolested. in the beginning of he was actively engaged at the great disputation in bern. that same year he was made pastor of aigle and put in possession of the parsonage and the stipend; but such work was too tame for him. he made long preaching tours; we find him at lausanne, morat, orbe, and other places, always protected by the authorities of bern. he began his work in geneva in .] [footnote : berthold haller was born at aldingen ( ); studied at rothweil and pforzheim, where he made the acquaintance of melanchthon. he became a bachelor of theology of the university of köln; taught for some time at rothweil, and then at bern ( - ). he was elected people's priest in the great church there in . his sympathetic character and his great eloquence made him a power in the city; but his discouragements were so many and so great that he was often on the point of leaving. zwingli encouraged him to remain and persevere.] [footnote : sebastian meyer was a priest from elsass who had been preaching in bern since against the abuses of the roman church. the notorious conduct of the dominicans in bern ( - ), and the action of samson, the indulgence-seller, in , had made the bernese ready to listen to attacks against rome.] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ ( nd ed.), ii. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. , , , , .] [footnote : ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, i. .] [footnote : the invitation began: "nous l'advoyer, le petit et le grand conseil de la cité de berne, à tous et à chascun, spirituelz et séculiers, prélatz, abbés, prévostz, doyens, chanoynes, curés, sacrestains, vicaires prescheurs de la parolle de dieu, et à tous prebstres, séculiers ou réguliers, et à tous noz advoyers, chastellains, prévostz, lieutenans, et tous autres officiers et à tous noz chers, féaulx et aymés subjectz, et à tous manans et habitans de nostre domaine et ségnorie aux quelz les presentes lètres viendront,--salut, grâce et bénivolance! "sçavoir faisons, combien que nous ayons fait beaucoup d'ordonnance et mandemens publiques, pour la dissension de nostre commune foy chrestienne, à ce meuz et espoirans, que cela profiteroit à la paix et concorde chrestienne, comme chose très utile," etc.; herminjard, ii. .] [footnote : cf. _scots confession_ of , art. xix.: "the trew kirk quhilk alwaies heares and obeyis the voice of her awin spouse and pastor."] [footnote : the _theses_, in the original german, are printed by müller, _bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_ (leipzig, ), pp. xviii, ; and in french by herminjard in _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ ( nd ed.), ii. , .] [footnote : sebastian wagner was born at schaffhausen in . he studied at paris under lascaris, taught theology in the franciscan monastery at zurich, then at constance. he adopted the reformation, and, returning to his native town, became its reformer.] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs_, etc. ii. _n._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. _n._] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. _n._] [footnote : nicholas de watteville, born in , was canon of st. vincent in bern, protonotary apostolic, prior of montpreveyres, and provost of lausanne. he visited rome in , and there received the abbey of montheron; and the year following he was made a papal chamberlain to pope leo x. he gave up all his benefices on december st, and soon afterwards married clara may, a nun who had left the convent of königsfeld. he was always a great admirer of william farel, and often interfered to protect the impetuous reformer from the consequences of his own rashness. his younger brother, j. j. de watteville, became advoyer or president of bern, and was a notable figure in the history of the reformation in switzerland. the family of de watteville is still represented among the citizens of bern.] [footnote : as early as june th, , the council of bern had issued an ordinance for the preachers throughout their territories, which enjoined them to preach publicly and without dissimulation the holy gospel and the doctrine of god, and to say nothing which they could not establish by true and holy scripture; to leave entirely alone all other doctrines and discussions contrary to the gospel, and in particular the distinctive doctrines of luther. later (may st, ), at a conference held between members of the council of bern, deputies from the bernese communes, and delegates from the seven roman catholic cantons, it was agreed to permit no innovation in matters of religion. this agreement was not maintained long; and the bernese went back to their ordinance of june . it seems to have been practically interpreted to mean that preachers might attack the power of the pope, and the doctrines of purgatory and the invocation of saints, but that they were not to say anything against the current doctrine of the sacraments. cf. decrees of the council of bern, quoted in herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_, (geneva, ), i. _n._, ii. _n._, also .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc., ii. , , , , etc. in sept. , bern wrote to the bishop of basel, who had imprisoned henri pourcellet, one of farel's preachers: "nous ne pouvons d'ailleurs pas tolérer que ceux qui partagent notre foi chrétienne soient traités d'une telle manière," p. .] [footnote : sources: e. f. k. müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_ (leipzig, ), pp. - ; hospinian, _historia sacramentaria_, vols. (geneva, ). later books: ebrard, _das dogma vom heiligen abendmahl und seine geschichte_ (frankfurt a m. - ), vol. ii.; schweizer, _die protestantischen centraldogmen in ihrer entwickelung innerhalb der reformierten kirche_ (zurich, - ); hundeshagen, _die konflikte des zwinglianismus, lutherthums, und calvinismus in den bernischen landkirchen - , nach meist ungedruckten quellen dargestelt_ (bern, ); compare also vol. i. ff.] [footnote : müller, _die bekenntnisschriften des reformierten kirche_, p. .] [footnote : cf. vol. i. ff.] [footnote : leibnitz, _pensées de leibnitz_, nd ed. (paris, ) p. .] [footnote : müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_, p. .] [footnote : sources: _mémoires et documents publiés par la société d'histoire et d'archæologie de genève_ (especially vols. ii. v. ix. xv. xx.); froment, _les actes et gestes marveilleux de la cité de genève_ (ed. of by g. revillod); la soeur jeanne de jussie, _le levain du calvinisme_ (ed. of ); g. farel, _lettres certaines d'aucuns grandz troubles et tumultes advenuz à genève, avec la disputation faicte l'an _ (basel, ); _registres du conseil de genève_ (known to me only through the extracts given by herminjard, doumergue, and others); herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_, vols. (geneva, etc., vols. i. ii. in a nd edition, , vols. iii.-ix. - ); calvin, _opera omnia_, vols. xxix.-lxxxvii. of the _corpus reformatorum_ (brunswick and berlin, - ); bonnet, _lettres françaises de jean calvin_ (paris, ); beza, _vita calvini_ (vol. xlix. of the _corpus reformatorum_); rilliet, _le premier catéchisme de calvin_ (paris, ). later works: doumergue, _jean calvin, les hommes et les choses de son temps_ (only three vols. published, lausanne, , , ); bungener, _jean calvin, sa vie, son oeuvre et ses écrits_ (paris, - ); kampschulte, _johann calvin, seine kirche und seine stadt in genf_ (leipzig, - ); a. roget, _histoire du peuple de genève depuis la reforme jusqu' à l'escalade_ (geneva, - ); dunant, _les relations politiques de genève avec berne et les suisses de - _ (geneva, ); ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, ed. by vulliemin (paris and lausanne, - ).] [footnote : ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_ (paris, - ), iii. .] [footnote : we read of luther's books being read in geneva as early as may , and that their effect was to give several of the people heart to care little for the threats of the pope; in , cornelius agrippa, writing to capito (june th), and haller, writing to zwingli (july th), speak of francis lambert (_vir probus et diligens minister verbi dei_), who had preached in geneva, lausanne, freiburg, and bern; and in , hofen, secretary to the council of bern, writing to zwingli (jan. th), thinks that geneva could be won for the reformation,--he had noticed that the people no longer cared much for indulgences or for the mass (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. i. - , _n._, ii. f., _n._; cf. ).] [footnote : j. a. gautier, _histoire de genève_ (geneva, ), ii. . the nun, soeur jeanne de jussie, in her _levain du calvinisme_ (p. ), says "au mois de juin, dimanche matin, le , certain nombre de mauvais garçons plantèrent grands placards en impression par toutes les portes des églises de genève, esquels estoient contenus les principaux poincts de la secte perverse luthérienne"; and another contemporary chronicler says that the placards promised a "grand pardon général de jesus christ" (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _n._).] [footnote : their letter said that it was reported that "nonnullos ex gebennensibus apposuisse certas cedulas inductorias ad novam legem, contra auctoritatem episcopalem, et quod habent libros et promulgant; quod est contra voluntatem d. friburgensium" (_ibid._ ii. _n._).] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, ii. _n._] [footnote : cf. p. , _n._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _f._ farel preached his first sermon at aigle on friday, nov. th, .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. _n._] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. _n._] [footnote : farel seems to have asked his converts to submit to baptism; they were baptized in the presence of the congregation on making a solemn and public profession of their faith.--_ibid._ _n._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _n._] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. , .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _n._] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. .] [footnote : m. herminjard gives a list of their names--claud de glantinis, alexandre le bel, thomas ----, henri pourcellet, jean bosset, antoine froment, antoine marcourt, eymer beynon, pierre marmoud, hugues turtaz, and perhaps jean holard, pierre simonin or symonier, claude bigothier, jean de bély, jean fathon.] [footnote : cf. letter of farel to fortunat andronicus, in herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _n._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. _n._, .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. _n._] [footnote : the ordinance was entitled, _ordnung wic sich pfarrer und prediger zu statt und land bern, in leer und leben, halten sollen, mit wyterem bericht von christo, und den sacramenten, beschlossen im synodo daselbst versamlet am tag januarij_--_anno _. the doctrinal decisions of the synod are to be found in müller, _bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_ (leipzig, ), pp. _ff._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : froment married ( ) marie dentière, who had been abbess of a convent in tournai, and had been expelled for her evangelical opinions. she was a learned lady, a friend of the queen of navarre, who sometimes preached, according to the nun jeanne de jussie, and made many converts. she wrote a piquant epistle to the queen of navarre, exposing the intrigues which drove calvin, farel, and coraut from geneva. a portion of this very rare _epistle_ is printed by herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. v. _ff._] [footnote : froment, _les actes et gestes marveilleux de la cité de genève_ (ed. of by g. revillod), pp. and - .] [footnote : the authorities of freiburg in a letter to geneva actually called this dominican monk a "lutheran preacher"; cf. their letter given in herminjard, _correspondance_, iii. _f._] [footnote : _ibid._ iii. , _f._] [footnote : the text of the decree is given in herminjard, iii. _n._] [footnote : jeanne de jussie, _le levain du calvinisme_, p. ; froment, _actes et gestes_, etc. - .] [footnote : for the affair of werly, see the letter of the evangelicals of geneva to the council of bern, given in herminjard, _correspondance_, etc., and the notes of the editor (iii. _ff._).] [footnote : after the defeat of his party by the combined efforts of freiburg and bern, the bishop had quitted geneva on august st, ; he returned there on july st, , but left again after a fortnight's residence (july th, ), disgusted, he said, at an act of iconoclasm.] [footnote : the priests of geneva were notoriously turbulent. we read of at least five riots which they headed. the canons were worse. pierre werly had attempted the assassination of farel on october rd, (jeanne de jussie, _le levain du calvinisme_, p. ); he had taken an active part in the riots caused by the placards in .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. .] [footnote : _le levain du calvinisme_, pp. , , (where canus is called alexander de molendino). froment, who had been compelled to quit geneva, had returned to the town along with alexandre canus immediately after the departure of the bishop on the th of july .] [footnote : furbiti permitted himself to use strong language. even the romanist chronicler, the nun jeanne de jussie, records that furbiti "touched to the quick the lutheran dogs," and said that "all those who belonged to that cursed sect were licentious, gluttons, lascivious, ambitious, homicides, and bandits, who loved nothing but sensuality, and lived as the brutes, reverencing neither god nor their superiors" (_le levain du calvinisme_, p ).] [footnote : _caffard_ need not be taken to mean _hypocrite_: it was commonly used to denote a mendicant friar.] [footnote : the letter is given in herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. _f._] [footnote : the ms. chronicle of michel roset is the source for the statement about the order to burn translations of the scripture.] [footnote : furbiti was released in april at the request of francis i. of france. he was exchanged for antoine saunier, a swiss evangelical in prison in france. such exchanges were not uncommon between the protestant cantons and france.--herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. _f._ a full account of the conferences between farel and furbiti is given in _lettres certaines d'aucuns grandz troubles et tumultes nuz à genève, avec la disputation faicte l'an _, etc. (basel, ). the booklet is very rare.] [footnote : adjoining the house of baudichon, with one building between them, was a large mansion occupied by the seigneur de thorens, a strong partisan of the reformation. he was a savoyard, expelled from his country because of his religious principles. he acquired citizenship in bern. the bernese, on the eve of their embassy, which reached geneva on jan. th, had bought this house, and placed m. de thorens therein, intending it to be a place where the evangelicals could meet in safety under the protection of bern. it is probable that in time of special danger the evangelicals met there for public worship. when the council of freiburg objected to farel's preaching, the council of geneva replied that the services were held in the house of the deputies of bern. cf. herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ix. , _f._, _f._; jeanne de jussie, _le levain du calvinisme_, pp. , , (where the poor nun describes the various ceremonies of the reformed cult with all the venom and coarseness of sixteenth century romanism); baum, _procès de baudichon de la maisonneuve accusé d'héresie a lyon, _ (geneva, ), pp. , ; doumergue, _jean calvin_, ii. _f._, iii. - .] [footnote : the poison was placed in some spinach soup, and the popular story was that farel escaped because he did not like the food; that froment had seated himself at table to take his share, when news was brought to him that his wife and children had arrived at geneva--he rose from the table at once to go to meet them, and left the soup untasted. poor viret was the only one who took his share, and became very ill immediately afterwards. the prisoner's confession, lately exhumed from the geneva archives, tells another tale. the woman said that she stuffed a small bone with the poison, and placed it in viret's bowl; but was afraid to do the same to farel's because his soup was too clear. cf. extracts quoted in doumergue's _jean calvin_, etc. ii. , _n._] [footnote : the _theses_ are given in ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, iii. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. , _n._] [footnote : _le levain du calvinisme_, p. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. _n._] [footnote : froment, _actes et gestes_, etc. pp. - : "nous avons les dieux des prebstres, en voullés vous? et les iectoynt apres cielx" (p. ).] [footnote : the minute is given in herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. ; and the letter of the two councils written for the information of the councils of bern at p. .] [footnote : froment, _actes et gestes_, etc. pp. - .] [footnote : the fullest contemporary account of these matters is to be found in _un opuscule inédit de farel; le resumé des actes de la dispute de rive de _, published in the nd vol. of the _mémoires et documents publiées par la société d'histoire et archæologie de genève_. it has been reprinted separately.] [footnote : the words used by the spokesman of the secular clergy, among whom were the canons of the cathedral, were: "_sua non esse sustinere talia, cum nec sint sufficientes nec sciant_."] [footnote : the minute of council is quoted in doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. ii. , .] [footnote : for these relations, cf. durrant, _les relations politiques de genève avec berne et les suisses, de à _ ( ).] [footnote : the devout romanist, soeur jeanne de jussie, testifies, with mediæval frankness, to the dissolute lives of the romish clergy: "_il est bien vray que les prelats et gens d'Église pour ce temps ne gardoient pas bien leurs voeus et estat, mais gaudissoient dissolument des biens de l'Église tenant femmes en lubricité et adultère, et quasi tout le peuple estoit infect de cest abominable et detestable péché: dont est à scavoir que les péchéz du monde abondoient en toutes sortes de gens, qui incitoient l'ire de dieu à y mettre sa punition divine_" (_le levain du calvinisme_, p. ; cf. minutes of the council of geneva at p. ). even the nuns of geneva, with the exception of the nuns of st. clara, to whom jeanne de jussie belonged, were notorious for their conduct; cf. herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. v. _n._] [footnote : cf. wildermuth's letter to the _council of the two hundred_ in bern, telling that farel was in prison at payerne: "would that i had twenty bernese with me, and with the help of god we would not have permitted what has happened" (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. ).] [footnote : doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. i. .] [footnote : doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. i. .] [footnote : cordier, corderius, cordery, was a well-known name in scottish parish schools a century ago, where his exercises were used in almost every latin class. he became a convert of the reformed faith, and did his best to spread evangelical doctrines by means of the sentences to be turned into latin. he followed his great pupil to geneva, and died there in his eighty-eighth year.] [footnote : doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xlix. p. .] [footnote : i owe this inference to my brother, professor lindsay of st. andrews; he adds that plautus was greatly studied in the time of calvin's youth in france.] [footnote : cf. his letter to francis daniel, where he speaks about the publication of the commentary; says that he has issued it at his own expense; that some of the paris lecturers, to help its sale, had made it a book on which they lectured, and hopes _quod publico etiam bono forte cessurum sit_ (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ii. ).] [footnote : in a letter to francis daniel, of date oct. th, , calvin calls gerard "our friend"; and in another, written about the end of the same month, he describes with a minuteness of detail impossible for anyone who was not in the inner circle, the comedy acted by the students of the college of navarre, which was a satire directed against marguerite, the queen of navarre, and gerard roussel, and the affair of the connection of the university of paris and the queen's poem, entitled _le miroir de l'âme pécheresse_; cf. herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. - .] [footnote : lang, _die bekehrung johannes calvins_ ( ); doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. i. , _ff._; müller, "calvins bekehrung" (_nachrichten der gött. gel._ for , pp. _ff._); wernle, "noch einmal die bekehrung calvins" (_zeitschrift für kirchengeschichte_, xxvii. _ff._ ( )).] [footnote : for the history of this discourse written by calvin and pronounced by cop, see e. doumergue, _jean calvin; les hommes et les choses de son temps_ (lausanne, ), i. _ff._; a. lang, _die bekehrung j. calvins_ (leipzig, ), p. . _ff._ for accounts of the attempts to arrest nicolas cop and calvin, see the letter of francis i. to the _parlement_ of paris in herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iii. - , and the editor's notes, also p. .] [footnote : "magister gulielmus farellus proponit sicuti sit necessaria illa lectura quam initiavit _ille gallus_ in sancto petro. supplicat advideri de illo retinendo et sibi alimentando. super quo fuit advisum quod advideatur de ipsum substinendo" (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. _n._).] [footnote : for the disputation at lausanne, see herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. _f._ (letter from calvin to f. daniel, oct. th, ); _corpus reformatorum_, xxxvii. p. f.; ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, vol. iv.; doumergue, _jean calvin_, ii. _f._] [footnote : the ten _theses_ are printed in the _corpus reformatorum_, xxxvii. .] [footnote : their names were jean mimard, regent of the school in vevey; jacques drogy, vicar of morges; jean michod, dean of vevey; jean berilly, vicar of prévessin; and a dominican monk, de monbouson.] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xxxvii. - .] [footnote : wherever farel went he had instituted what was called the "congregation": once a week in church, members of the audience were invited to ask questions, which the preacher answered. these "congregations" were an institution all over romance switzerland. the custom prevailed in geneva when calvin came there, and it was continued.] [footnote : bonnet, _lettres françaises de calvin_, ii. .] [footnote : "il seroyt bien à désirer que la communication de la saincte cène de jésucrist fust tous les dimenches pour le moins en usage, quant l'Église est assemblée en multitude" (_corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. i. ); cf. the first edition of the _institutio_ ( ): "singulis, ad minimum, hebdomadibus proponenda erat christianorum coetui mensa domini."] [footnote : calvin says: "_c'est une chose bien expédiente à l'édification de l'esglise, de chanter aulcungs pseaumes en forme d'oraysons publicqs._" the translations of the psalms by clement marot, which were afterwards used in the church of geneva, were not published till , and the _pseaumes_ may have been religious canticles such as were used in the reformed church of neuchâtel from ; but it ought to be remembered that translations of the psalms of david did exist in france before marot's; cf. herminjard, _correspondance_, iv. _n._] [footnote : "et comment ne souhaiterions-nous pas voir notre siècle ramené à l'image de cette église primitive, puisqu'alors christ recevait un plus pur hommage, et que l'éclat de son nom était plus au loin répandu?... puisse cette extension de la foi, puisse cette pureté du culte, aujourd'hui que reparaît la lumière de l'Évangile, nous être aussi accordées par celui qui est béni au-dessus de toutes choses! aujourd'hui, je le répète, que reparait la lumière de l'Évangile, qui se répand enfin de nouveau dans le monde, et y éclaire de ses divins rayons un grand nombre d'esprits; de telle sorte que, sans parler de bien d'autres avantages, depuis le temps de constantine, où l'Église primitive peu à peu dégénérée perdit tout a fait son caracter, il n'y a eu dans aucune autre epoque plus de connaissance des langues.... "--lefèvre d'Étaples, _aux lecteurs chrétiens de meaux_ (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. i. ).] [footnote : the prevailing idea was that the evangelical pastors were the servants of the community, and therefore of the councils which represented it. j. j. watteville, the celebrated advoyer or president of bern, and a strong and generous supporter of the reformation, was accustomed to say: "nothing prevents me dismissing a servant when he displeases me; why should not a town send its pastor away if it likes?" (herminjard, _correspondance_, vii. _n._).] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. ix. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. viii. , , ix. , vi. ; ruchat, _histoire de la réformation de la suisse_, ii. , _f._; farel, _summaire_, edition of , pp. _ff._] [footnote : matt. xviii. - .] [footnote : the action of the people of the four parishes which made the district of thyez illustrates a condition of mind not easily sympathised with by us, and it shows what the commonalty of the sixteenth century thought of the powers of the councils which ruled their city republics. the district belonged to geneva, and was under the rule of the council of that city. the inhabitants had been permitted to retain the romanist religion. they were, nevertheless, excommunicated by their bishop for clinging to geneva with loyalty. they were honest roman catholics; they could not bear the thought of living under excommunication, and longed for absolution; the bishop would not grant it; so the _people applied to the council of geneva to absolve them_, which the council did by a minute which runs as follows: "(april th, ) sur ce qu'est proposé par nostre chastelain de thyez, que ceux de thyez font doubte soy présenter en l'esglise à ces pasques prochaines (april th), à cause d'aucunes lettres d'excommuniement qui sont esté contre aucuns exécutées, par quoi volentier ils desirent avoir remède de absolution.... est esté résolu que l'on escrive une patente aux vicaires du dict mandement (district), que nous les tenons pour absols." this was enough. the people went cheerfully to their easter services (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. _n._).] [footnote : cf. the letter of the council of bern to the council of lausanne: "(july ): concernant minas contra ministrum verbi, lasciviam vitæ civium, bacchanalia, ebrietates, commessationes, contemptum evangelii, rythmos impudicos, etc., ceux de lausanne sont vertement réprimandés. on leur remontre leur négligence à châtier les vices. il leur est ordonné de punir, dans le terme d'un mois, les bacchantes et aussi celui qui a menacé le prédicant et l'a interpellé dans la rue. il est également ordonné aux ambassadeurs qui seront envoyés pour les appels, de faire de sévères remonstrances devant le conseil et les bourgeois, et de les menacer en les exhortant à s'amender" (herminjard, _correspondance_, vii. ).] [footnote : this first catechism has been republished and edited under the title, _le catéchisme français de calvin, publié en , réimprimé pour la première fois d'après un exemplaire nouvellement retrouvé et suivi de plus ancienne confession de foi de l'Église de genève, avec deux notices, l'une historique, l'autre bibliographique_, par albert rilliet et théophile dufour, . the curious bibliographical history of the book is given in doumergue, _jean calvin_, ii. p. ; and at greater length in the preface to the reprint.] [footnote : müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_, p. .] [footnote : the question is carefully discussed by rilliet in his _le catéchisme français de calvin_, and by doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. ii. - .] [footnote : the letter from bern (dated nov. th) was read to the recalcitrants, who gave way and accepted the confession on jan. th, (herminjard, _correspondance_, iv. _n._).] [footnote : _actes et gestes merveilleux_, p. , _f._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. , , ; doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc, iv. .] [footnote : on april th it was reported that coraut had said in a sermon that geneva was a realm of tipplers, and that the town was governed by drunkards (from all accounts a true statement of fact, but scarcely suitable for a sermon), and had been brought before the council in consequence.] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. - , - .] [footnote : calvin says that he wished the matter to be regularly brought before the people and discussed: "_concio etiam a nobis habeatur de ceremoniarum libertate, deinde ad conformitatem populum adhortemur, propositis ejus rationibus. demum liberum ecclesiæ judicium permittatur._" cf. the memorandum presented to the synod of zurich by calvin and farel, _ibid._ v. ; _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. ii. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. , , , , v. , .] [footnote : it is worth mentioning that while the three letters from bern were brought before the council of the two hundred, the decisions of the lausanne synod were produced at the general council. did the council wish to give their decision a semblance of ecclesiastical authority?] [footnote : bonnet, _les lettres françaises de calvin_, ii. , .] [footnote : "a ceste cause, vous instantement, très-acertes et en fraternelle affection prions, admonestons et requérons que ... la rigueur que tenés aux dits farel et calvin admodérer, pour l'amour de nous et pour éviter scandale, contemplans que ce qu'avons à vous et à eulx escript pour la conformité des cérimonies de l'esglise, est procédé de bonne affection et par mode de requeste, et non pas pour vous, ne eulx, constraindre à ces choses, que sont indifferentes en l'esglise, comme le pain de la cène et aultres" (herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. ).] [footnote : for the letter of bern to geneva, and the answer of geneva, cf. herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. iv. - .] [footnote : _ibid._ iv. _n._] [footnote : the memoir presented to the synod of zurich has been printed by herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. v. - , and in the _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. ii. - . the conclusion prays bern to drive from their territory ribald and obscene songs and catches, that the people of geneva may not cite their example as an excuse.] [footnote : "wir habent ouch durch etlich unsere vorordneten uffs ernstlichest mit ihnen reden lassen sich etlicher ungeschigter scherpffe zemaassen und sich by disem unerbuwenem volgk cristenlicher sennffmütigkeit zu beflyssen" (_corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. ii. ).] [footnote : the minute of the council of bern says: "the genevans had refused to receive calvin and farel. if my lords need preachers, they will keep them in mind" (herminjard, _correspondance_, v. _n._).] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. v. ; _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. ii. .] [footnote : doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. ii _ff._] [footnote : _registres du conseil_, xxxiv. f., , , (quoted in doumergue, _jean calvin_, ii. ).] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ (geneva, - ), vi. .] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xxxix. (xi.) .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. vii. .] [footnote : _registres du conseil_, xxxv. f., (quoted in doumergue, _jean calvin_, etc. ii. ).] [footnote : for the wonderful influence of calvin on the french reformation and its causes, cf. below, pp. ff.] [footnote : _articles_ of in the _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. i. (x. i.) - ; _ordinances_ of ; _ibid._ pp. - ; _ordinances_ of ; _ibid._ pp. - ; _institution_, iv. cc. i.-xii.] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. i. , .] [footnote : _cambridge modern history_, ii. .] [footnote : on the one side of the stone is inscribed: le xxvii octobre mdliii mourut sur le bucher à champel michel servet de villeneuve d'aragon, né le xxix septembre mdxi. and on the other: fils respectueux et reconnaissants de calvin notre grand réformateur, mais condamnant une erreur qui fut celle de son siècle et fermement attachés à la liberté de conscience selon les vrais principes de la reformation et de l'Évangile, nous avons élevé ce monument expiatoire. le xxvii octobre mcmiii. ] [footnote : like jacques bernard, the franciscan monk, who was one of the pastors in geneva after the banishment of calvin and farel, who, "cum esset inter evangelii exordia, hostiliter repugnavit, donee christum aliquando in uxoris forma contemplatus est."] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. i. (x. i.) - , - , - , - , - .] [footnote : _corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii. i. (x. i.) - .] [footnote : _mémoires d'un protestant condamné aux galères de france pour cause de religion, écrits par lui-même_ ( , repub. ), pp. - .] [footnote : sources: théodore de bèze (beza), _histoire ecclésiastique des églises réformées au royaume de france_ (ed. by g. baum and e. cunitz, paris, - ); j. crespin, _histoire des martyrs persécutez et mis à mort pour la vérité_ (ed. by benoist, toulouse, - ); herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_, vols. (geneva, - ); calvin's _letters_, _corpus reformatorum_, vols. xxxviii. ii.-xlviii. (brunswick, , etc.); bonnet, _lettres de jean calvin_, vols. (paris, ). later books: e. doumergue, _jean calvin_, vols. (published lausanne, - ); h. m. baird, _history of the rise of the huguenots_ (london, ), and _theodore beza_ (new york, ); lavisse, _histoire de france_, v. i. pp. ff.; ii. ff.; vi. i. ii.; hamilton, "paris under the valois kings" (_eng. hist. review_, , pp. - ).] [footnote : marguerite was born at angoulême on april th, ; married the feeble duke of alençon in ; was a widow in ; married henri d'albret, king of navarre, in ; died in . her only child was jeanne d'albret, the heroic mother of henry of navarre, who became henri iv. of france. when she was the duchess of alençon, her court at bourges was a centre for the humanists and reformers of france; when she became the queen of navarre, her castle at nérac was a haven for all persecuted protestants. the literature about marguerite is very extensive: it is perhaps sufficient to mention--génin, _lettres de marguerite d'angoulême, reine de navarre_ (published by the _société de l'histoire de france_, - ); _les idées religieuses de marguerite de navarre, d'auprès son oeuvre poétique_; a. lefranc, _les dernieres poésies de marguerite de navarre_ (paris, ); becker, "marguerite de navarre, duchesse d'alençon et guillaume briçonnet, évêque de meaux, d'aprés leur correspondance manuscrite, - " (in the _bulletin de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme française_, xlix. paris, ); darmesteter, _margaret of angoulême, queen of navarre_ (london, ); lavisse, _histoire de france_, v. i.; herminjard, _correspondance_, etc., vol. i., which contains sixteen letters written by her, and twelve addressed to her.] [footnote : louise de savoie, _journal_, - (in michaud et poujoulat, _collection_, etc. v.).] [footnote : lefranc, "marguerite de navarre et le platonisme de la renaissance" (vols. lviii. lix. _bibliothèque de l'École des chartes_, - ).] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _heptameron_, preface.] [footnote : _ibid._, nouvelle xxxiii.] [footnote : briçonnet belonged to an illustrious family. he was born in , destined for the church, was archdeacon of rheims, bishop of lodève in , got the rich abbey of st. germain-des-près at paris, and became bishop of meaux in . he at once began to reform his diocese; compelled his curés to reside in their parishes; divided the diocese into thirty-two districts, and sent to each of them a preacher for part of the year.] [footnote : cf. k. h. graf, "jacobus faber stapulensis," in the _zeitschrift für die historische theologie_ for , - ; doumergue, _jean calvin_, i. - ; herminjard, _correspondance_, i. _n._] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, i. , , _n._] [footnote : it does not seem to be generally known that lefèvre travelled to germany in search of manuscripts of some of the earlier mystical writers, and that he published in the first printed edition of hildegard of bingen's _liber quoscivias_ (peltzer, _deutsche mystik und deutsche kunst_ (strassburg, ), p. ), under the title _liber trium virorum et trium spiritualium virginum_ (paris, ).] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, i. _n._, , _n._, and _n._, , etc.] [footnote : _journal d'un bourgeois de paris sous le règne de françois i. - _ (paris, ), p. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, i. _ff._] [footnote : _journal d'un bourgeois_, etc. p. .] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, i. , ; cf. _n._] [footnote : the depredations of those bands of brigands are frequently referred to in the _journal d'un bourgeois de paris_, pp. , , , , , , , , , .] [footnote : cf. _journal d'un bourgeois_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _journal d'un bourgeois_, etc.: "fut sonné par deux trompettes et crié au palays sur la pierre de marbre, que s'il y avoit personne qui sceut enseigner celuy ou ceulx qui avoient fisché les dictz placars, en révélant en certitude, il leur seroit donné cent escus par la cour" (p. ).] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. - . the dauphin, the dukes of orléans and angoulême, and a young german, prince de vendôme, carried the four batons supporting "un beau ciel" over the host.] [footnote : _bulletin de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme français_ for , pp. _ff._] [footnote : h. m. bower, _the fourteen of meaux_ (london, ).] [footnote : cf. above, pp. ff. what follows on calvin's influence on the reformation in france has been borrowed largely from m. henri lemonnier, _histoire de france_, etc. (paris, - ) v. i. pp. - , ii. pp. - , etc.; only a frenchman can describe it and him sympathetically.] [footnote : the venetian ambassador at the court of france, writing in to the doge, says, "your serenity will hardly believe the influence and the great power which the principal minister of geneva, by name calvin, a frenchman and a native of picardy, possesses in this kingdom. he is a man of extraordinary authority, who by his mode of life, his doctrines and his writings, rises superior to all the rest" (_calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, p. ).] [footnote : calvin did not lack imagination. the sanctified imagination has never made grander or loftier flight than in the thought of the _purpose of god_ moving slowly down through the ages, making for redemption and for the establishment of the kingdom, which is the master-idea in the _christian institution_. it was de bèze (beza), not calvin, who was the father of the seventeenth century doctrine of predestination,--a conception which differed from calvin's as widely as the skeleton differs from the man instinct with life and action.] [footnote : henri lemonnier, _histoire de france_, etc. (paris, ) v. i. .] [footnote : "calvin fut un très grand écrivain. je dirais même que ce fut le plus grand écrivain du ^{e} siècle si j'estimais plus que je ne fais le _style_ proprement dit.... encore est-il qu'il me faut bien reconnaître que le style de calvin est de tous les styles du ^{e} siècle celui qui a le plus de _style_.... reste qu'il parle l'admirable prose, si claire, limpide et facile, du ^{e} siècle, avec ce quelque chose de plus ferme, de plus nourri et de plus viril que l'étude des classiques donne à ceux qui ne poussent pas jusqu'à l'imitation servile et à l'admirature des menus jolis détails. reste qu'il parle la langue du ^{e} siècle avec quelques qualités déjà du ^{e}. c'est précisément ce qu'il a fait, et il est un des bons, sinon des sublimes, fondateurs de la prose française" (emile faguet, _scizième siècle: Études litéraires_, pp. - , paris, ).] [footnote : _cambridge modern history_, ii. .] [footnote : _la catéchisme français_, p. . _opera_, v. .] [footnote : the term was adopted from the edicts, "ladite religion prétenduë réformée," with the qualifying adjectives left out.] [footnote : henri lemonnier, _histoire de france_, etc. (paris, ) v. ii. .] [footnote : sources in addition to those mentioned on p. : _lettres inédites de diane de poitiers, publiées avec une introduction et des notes par_ g. guiffrey (paris, ); _mémoires de gaspard de saulx-tavannes_, - (published in the _collection_ of _michaud and poujoulat_, viii.); _mémoires de françois de guise_ (in the same collection, vi.); _lettres de catherine de médicis_ and _papiers d'État du cardinal de granvelle_ (in the _collection des documents inédits de l'histoire de france_); _lettres d'antoine de bourbon et de jeanne d'albret_ (in the publications of the _société de l'histoire de france_); _les oeuvres complètes de pierre de bourdeille, seigneur de brantôme_ (edit. by l. lalanne for the _société de l'histoire de france_, important for the persons and morals of the times); c. weiss, _la chambre ardente, étude sur la liberté de conscience en france, sous françois i. et henri ii. - _ (paris, ). layard, _dispatches of michele suriano and marcantonio barbaro, venetian ambassadors at the court of france_ (lymington, , pub. by the _huguenot society of london_). teulet, _relations politique de la france et de l'espagne avec l'Écosse_ (paris, ); and _papiers d'État relatifs a l'histoire de l'Écosse (bannatyne club_, paris, ); _correspondance du cardinal de granvelle_ (brussels, - ); _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _ (london, , etc.) later books in addition to those mentioned on p. : a. de ruble, _le traité de cateau-cambrésis_ (paris, ); a. w. whitehead, _gaspard coligny, admiral of france_ (london, ); the _bulletin historique et littéraire de l'histoire du protestantisme français_, edited by weiss, is a mine of information on all matters connected with the reformation in france. a. de ruble, _antoine de bourbon et jeanne d'albret_ (paris, - ), and _le colloque de poissy_ (paris, ); f. decrue, _anne de montmorency_ (paris, - ).] [footnote : the _parlements_ were the highest judicial courts in france. by far the most important was the _parlement_ of paris, whose jurisdiction extended over picardie, champagne, l'ile-de-france, l'orléanais, maine, touraine, anjou, poitou, aunis, berri, la bourbonnais, auvergne, and la marche--almost the half of france. the other _parlements_ in the time of henry ii. were those of normandy, brittany, burgundy, dauphiné, provence, languedoc, guyenne, and, up to , chambéry and turin. the _parlements_ are frequently mentioned under the names of the towns in which they met; thus the _parlement_ of normandy is called the _parlement_ of rouen; that of provence, the _parlement_ of aix; that of languedoc, the _parlement_ of toulouse.] [footnote : weiss, _la chambre ardente, étude sur la liberté de conscience en france, sous françois i. et henri ii., - _ (paris, ), is very valuable from the collection of documents which it contains. crespin's _histoire des martyrs_, etc., when tested by the official documents now accessible, has been found to be almost invariably correct, and without exaggeration. weiss, "une semaine de la chambre ardente" ( - oct. ), in the _bulletin historique et littéraire de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme français_ for ; and _des cinq escoliers sortis de lausanne brulez a lyon_ (geneva, ).] [footnote : _institutio christianæ religionis_, iv. iii. iv.] [footnote : athanase coquerel fils, _précis de l'histoire de l'église réformée de paris_ (paris, )--valuable for the numerous official documents in the appendix.] [footnote : antoine de chandieu, _histoire des persécutions et martyrs de l'Église de paris, depuis l'an _ (lyons, ).] [footnote : _oeuvres complètes de pierre de bourdeille, seigneur de brantôme_, edited by l. lalanne for the _société de l'histoire de france_ ( vols., paris, - ), ix. - .] [footnote : it is more probable that only twelve churches were represented--paris, saint-lô, rouen, dieppe, angers, orléans, tours, poitiers, saintes, marennes, châtellerault, and saint-jean-d'angely. h. dieterlen, _la synode générale de paris, _ (montauban, ): this was published as a thesis for the theological faculty (protestant) of montauban.] [footnote : the confession will be found in schaff, _the creeds of the evangelical protestant churches_ (london, ), pp. ff.; müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformierten kirche_ ( ), p. ; the various texts are discussed at p. xxxiii.] [footnote : the consistories sometimes condescended to details. in the calmer days after the edict of nantes, the pastor and consistory of montauban thought that the arrangement of madame de mornay's hair was _trop mondaine_: madame argued with them in a spirited way; cf. _mémoires de madame du plessis-mornay_ (_société de l'histoire de france_, paris, - ), i. - .] [footnote : _bulletin de la société de l'hist. du protestantisme français_, , p. .] [footnote : hauser, "la réforme et les classes populaires en france au xvi^{e} siècle" in the _revue d'hist. mod. et contemp._ i. ( - ).] [footnote : the best book on renée is rodocanchi, _renée de france, duchesse de ferrare_ ( ).] [footnote : for the chatillou brothers, see whitehead, _gaspard de coligny, admiral of france_ (london, ).] [footnote : the singing of clement marot's version of the psalms was not distinctively protestant. the first edition of the translation, including thirty psalms, appeared in paris in and in geneva in . the geneva edition had an appendix, entitled _la maniére d'administrer les sacrements selon la coutume de l'Église ancienne et comme on l'observe à genève_, and was undoubtedly a protestant book; but the paris edition contained instead rhymed versions of the lord's prayer, of the apostles' creed, and of the angel's salutation to the virgin. the book was a great favourite with francis i., who is said to have sung some of the psalms on his deathbed. it was very popular at the court of henri ii., where it became fashionable for the courtiers to select a favourite psalm, which the king permitted them to call "their own." henri's "own" was ps. xlii., _comme un cerf altéré bramc après l'eau courante_. he was a great huntsman. catherine de medici's was ps. vi. the psalm-singing at the pré-aux-clercs, however, was regarded as a manifestation against the court, and d'andelot was imprisoned for his persistent attendance.] [footnote : the family of guise, who played such a leading part in french history from the reign of henry ii. on to the downfall of the league, became french in the person of claude, the fifth son of rené, duke of lorraine, who inherited the lands of his father which were situated in france. francis i. had loaded him with honours and lands. the family had always been devoted to the papacy, and had profited by their devotion. the brother of claude, jean, had been made a cardinal when he was twenty, and had accumulated in his own person an immense number of benefices. these descended to his nephews, charles, who was first cardinal of guise and then cardinal of lorraine, and louis, who was cardinal of guise. the accumulated benefices enjoyed by charles amounted to over , livres. the guises did not serve the roman church for nothing.] [footnote : the street marais-saint-germain was called _petite genève_, because it was supposed to be largely inhabited by protestants. it was selected because of its remoteness from the centre of paris, and because it was partly under the jurisdiction of the abbey of saint-germain-des-prés and of the university--two corporations excessively jealous of the infringements of their rights of police. cf. athanase cocquerel fils, "histoire d'une rue de paris," in the _bulletin historique et littéraire de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme français_ for , pp. , .] [footnote : _les mémoires du prince de condé_ (the hague, ); duc d'aumale, _histoire des princes de condé pendant les xvi^{me} et xvii^{me} siècles_, i. (paris, - ; eng. trans., london, ); armstrong, _the french wars of religion_ (london, ).] [footnote : _le chansounier huguenot du xvi^{e} siècle_ (paris, ), pp. , .] [footnote : buchot, _catherine de médicis_ (paris, ); edith sichel, _catherine de' medici and the french reformation_ (london, ).] [footnote : catherine's children were--francis ii., - ; elizabeth (married to philip ii. of spain in ), - ; claude (m. to charles iii.), duke of lorraine ( ), - ; louis, duke of orléans, - ; charles ix., - ; henri iii. (first duke of orléans, then duke of anjou), - ; francis (duke of alençon, then duke of anjou), - ; marguerite (married henri iv.), - ; and twins who died in the year of their birth, victorie and jeanne, b. .] [footnote : some say that catherine either invented or made fashionable the modern ladies' side-saddle; during the middle ages ladies rode astride, or on pillion, or seated sideways on horseback with their feet on a board which was suspended from the front and rear of the saddle.] [footnote : g. picot, _histoire des États généraux_, ii. (paris, ).] [footnote : jeanne d'albret wrote remonstrating strongly; cf. _lettres d'antoine de bourbon et de jeanne d'albret_, pp. _f._] [footnote : for the colloquy of poissy, cf. ruble, "le colloque de poissy" (in _mémoires de la société de l'histoire de paris et de l'ile de france_), vol. xvi., (paris, ); kliptfel, _le collogue de poissy_ (paris and metz, ).] [footnote : lavisse, "le massacre, fait à vassy" in _grandes scènes historiques du xvi^{e} siècle_ (paris, ).] [footnote : _lettres d'antoine de bourbon et de jeanne d'albret_ (paris, ), pp. _ff._ (letter to catherine de' medici); pp. _ff._ (letters to protestants outside la rochelle). in her letter to catherine jeanne demands for the protestants liberty of worship and all the rights and privileges of ordinary citizens: if these are not granted there must be war.] [footnote : for the attempted assassination of coligny, cf. whitehead, _gaspard de coligny, admiral of france_ (london, ), pp. , _ff._; _bulletin de l'histoire du protestantisme français_, xxxvi. ; _bulletin de la société de l'histoire de paris_, etc. xiv. .] [footnote : for the massacre of st. bartholomew, cf. bonnardot, _registres des délibérations du bureau de la ville de paris ( - )_, vii. (paris, ); _mémoires de madame du plessis-mornay_, publ. by the _société de l'histoire de la france_ ( ); _mémoires et correspondance de du plessis-mornay_ ( ), ii.; bordier, _saint barthélemy et la critique moderne_; whitehead, _gaspard de coligny, admiral of france_ (london, ), pp. , _ff._; froude, _history of england_ (london, ), ix.-x.; mariéjol, _histoire de france_, etc., vi. i. , _ff._] [footnote : the existence of this medal has been unblushingly denied by some roman catholic controversialists. it is described and figured in the jesuit bonani's _numismata pontificum_ (rome, ), i. . two commemorative medals were struck in france, and on the reverse of one of them charles ix. is represented as hercules with a club in the one hand and a torch in the other slaying the seven-headed hydra. they are figured in the _bulletin de la société de l'histoire du protestantisme français_ for , pp. , .] [footnote : la ferrière, _catherine de médicis et les politiques_ (paris, ).] [footnote : pierre de l'estoile, _journal de henri iii._ (paris, - ); michelet, _histoire de france_, vols. xi. and xii; jackson, _the last of the valois_ (london, ).] [footnote : _dialogue d'entre le maheustre et le manant; contenant les raisons de leurs débats et questions en ces présens troubles au royaume de france _; this rare pamphlet is printed in the _satyre menippée, de la vertu du catholicon d'espagne_, ratisbon (amsterdam), , iii. _ff._ _mémoires de la ligue, contenant les événemens les plus remarquables depuis jusqu' à la paix accordée entre le roi de france et le roi d'espagne en _ (amsterdam, ); pierre de l'estoile, _journal de henri iii._ (paris - ), and _journal du règne de henri iv._ (the hague, ); robiquet, _paris et la ligue_ (paris, ); victor de chalambert, _histoire de la ligue_ (paris, ); maury, "la commune de paris de " (in _rev. des deux mondes_, sept. , ).] [footnote : the scenes on the day of the barricades are described in a contemporary paper printed in _satyre menippée_ (ed. of ), iii. _ff._] [footnote : brown, "the assassination of the guises as described by the venetian ambassador" (_eng. hist. review_, x. ).] [footnote : _histoire de france depuis les origines jusqu' à la revolution_ (paris, ), vi. i. , _f._, by h. mariéjol.] [footnote : they argued: "je vous demande, voudriez-vous bailler une fille pudique, honneste, belle, verteuse et modeste, à un homme desbauché, et abandonné à tous vices, sous ombre qu'il vous diroit qu'il s'amenderoit, et qu'il n'y retournoit estant marié, que vous luy osteriez vostre fille? je crois que tout bon pere de famille ne se mettroit en ce hazard, ou feroit un tour d'homme sans cervelle. or c'est l'eglise catholique, apostolique et romaine qui est une pucelle, belle et honneste en cette france qui n'a jamais eu pour roy un hérétique, mais tons bons catholiques et assidez à jesus-christ son espoux. voudriez-vous done bailler cette eglise que les françois ont tant fidélement servie et honourée sous leur rois catholiques, aujourd'huy la prostituer entre les mains d'un hérétique, relaps et excommunie?"--"dialogue d'entre le maheustre et le manant" (_satyre menippée_, iii. .)] [footnote : sources: _recueil des lettres missives de henri iv._ (_collection de documents inédits_, paris, - ), vols.; alberi, _relazioni degli ambasciatori veneti_ (florence, , etc.); charles, duc de mayenne, _correspondance_, vols. (paris, ); sir h. upton, _correspondence_ (_roxburgh club_, london, ); du plessis-mornay, _mémoires_, vols. (amsterdam, - ); madame du plessis-mornay, _mémoires sur la vie de du plessis-mornay_ (paris, - , _soc. hist. de france_); maréchal de bassompierre, _journal de marie - _, vols. (paris, - , _soc. hist. de france_); _satyre menippée_, vols. (ratisbon (amsterdam), ); bénoit, _histoire de l'édit de nantes_. later books: baird, _the huguenots and henry of navarre_ (london, ); jackson, _the first of the bourbons_, vols. (london, ); lavisse, _histoire de france_, vi. i. ii. (paris, - ).] [footnote : sources: brandt, _the history of the reformation and other ecclesiastical transactions in and about the low-countries_ (english translation in vols. fol., london, : the original in dutch was published in ); brieger, _aleander und luther_ (gotha, ); kalkoff, _die despatchen des nuntius aleander_ (halle, ); poullet piot, _correspondance du cardinal granvelle_, vols. (brussels, - ); weiss, _papiers d'État du cardinal granvelle_, vols. (paris, - ); gachard, _correspondance de philippe ii. sur les affaires des pays bas_, vols. (brussels, - ); _correspondance de marguerite d'autriche avec philippe ii._, - (brussels, - ); _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne, prince d'orange_, vols. (brussels, - ); van prinsterer, _archives ou correspondance inédite de la maison d'orange-nassau_, in two series, and vols. (utrecht, - ); renon de france, _histoire des troubles des pays-bas_, vols. (brussels, - ); _mémoires anonymes sur les troubles des pays-bas, - _ (in the _collection, dcs mémoires sur l'histoire de belgique_). later books: armstrong, _charles v._ (london, ); motley, _the rise of the dutch republic_ (london, ); putnam, _william the silent_ (new york, ); harrison, _william the silent_ (london, ); _cambridge modern history_, iii. vi. vii. (cambridge, ).] [footnote : brandt, _the history of the reformation_, etc. i. ; cf. _journal d'un bourgeois de paris_, p. .] [footnote : a collection of their _chansons d'amour, jeux-partis, pastourelles, and fabliaux_ will be found in scheler's _trouvères belges_ (bruxelles, ).] [footnote : _correspondance de philippe ii. sur les affaires des pays-bas_, i. , , ; _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne, ii._ , .] [footnote : van der meersch, _recherches sur la vie et les travaux des imprimeurs belges et hollandaís_, pp. - ; cf. walther, _die deutsche bibelüberseztungen des mittelalters_, p. .] [footnote : aleander, writing to the cardinal de' medici (sept. th, ), attributes the spread of lutheranism in the netherlands to the teaching of erasmus and of the prior of the augustinians at antwerp.--brieger, _aleander und luther, ; die vervollständigten aleander-depeschen_ (gotha, ), p. .] [footnote : kalkoff, _die depeschen des nuntius aleander_ (halle a s. ), p. .] [footnote : brieger, _aleander und luther; die vervollständigten aleander-depeschen_, pp. , , .] [footnote : graphæus' appeal to the chancellor of the court of brabant is printed in full in brandt's _history of the reformation ... in the low countries_ (london. ), i. .] [footnote : wackernagel, _das deutsche kirchenlied von der ällesten zeit bis an zu anfang des xvii. jahrhunderts_, iii. .] [footnote : brandt, _history of the reformation in the low countries_ (london, ), p. .] [footnote : the history of the struggle with the anabaptists of the netherlands is related at length by s. blaupot ten cate in _geschiedenis der doopsgezinden in friesland_ (leeuwarden, ); _geschiedenis der doopsgezinden in groningen_ (oberijssel, ); _geschiedenis der doopsgezinden in holland en gelderland_ (amsterdam, ). a summary of the history of the anabaptists is given in heath's _anabaptism_ (london, ), which is much more accurate than the usual accounts.] [footnote : cf. _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii._, iv. iii. (_halket to tuller_).] [footnote : cf. below, pp. _f._] [footnote : cf. i. _ff._] [footnote : several references to the anabaptists of the low countries are to be found in the _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii._ hackett, writing to cromwell, says that "divers places are affected by this new sect of 'rebaptisement,'" vii. p. . he tells about the shiploads of emigrants (pp. , ), and says that they were so sympathised with, that it was difficult to enlist soldiers to fight against them; that the regent had sent , ducats to help the bishop of münster to crush them (p. ); and a wild report was current that henry viii. had sent money to the anabaptists of münster in revenge for the pope's refusing his divorce (p. ).] [footnote : the royal academy of belgium has published (brussels, - ) the _correspondance du cardinal de granvelle_ in volumes, and in the _collection de documents inêdits sur l'histoire de france_ there are the _papiers d'État du cardinal de granvelle_ in vols., edited by c. weiss (paris, - ). these volumes reveal the inner history of the revolt in the netherlands. the documents which refer to the revolt in the _papiers d'État_ begin with p. of vol. v. they show how, from the very first, philip ii. urged the extirpation of heresy as the most important work to be undertaken by his government; cf. _papiers d'État_, v. .] [footnote : "philip struck the keynote of his reign on the occasion of his first public appearance as king by presiding over one of the most splendid _auto-da-fés_ that had ever been seen in spain (valladolid, oct. th, )." _cambridge modern history_, iii. . it is a singular commentary on sixteenth century romanism, that to burn a large number of fellow-men was called "an act of faith."] [footnote : _papiers d'État du cardinal de granvelle_, v. pp. , .] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_ (letters from the regent to philip ii.), i. - .] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, etc. ii. _f._, - , .] [footnote : he wrote to philip about their excesses as early as dec. th, , gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, i. , and about the exasperation of the netherlanders in consequence (_ibid._ i. ).] [footnote : in a letter to the regent (march th, ), william declared that the heads of the policy of philip which he most strongly disapproved of were: _l'entretènement du concile de trente, favoriser les inquisiteurs ou leur office et exécuter sans nulle dissimulation les placars. correspondance_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : brandt, _the history of the reformation_, etc. i. .] [footnote : brandt, _the history of the reformation_, etc. i. .] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, ii. _ff._] [footnote : at meals they sang: "_par ce pain, par ce sel, et par cette besace, jamais les gueux ne changeront pour chose que l'on fasse."_ william of orange wrote to the regent that he was met in antwerp by crowds, shouting _vive les gueux_ (_correspondance_, ii. , etc.).] [footnote : brandt's _history of the reformation ... in the low countries_ (london, ), i. .] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, ii. _ff._] [footnote : brandt, _history of the reformation_, etc. i. .] [footnote : for this and earlier disturbances at antwerp, cf. _correspondance de philippe ii._, etc. i. , , .] [footnote : brandt, _history of the reformation_, etc. i. , . the executions were latterly accompanied by additional atrocious cruelty. "it being perceived with what constancy and alacrity many persons went to the fire, and how they opened their mouths to make a free confession of their faith, and that the wooden balls or gags were wont to slip out, a dreadful machine was invented to hinder it for the future: they prepared two little irons, between which the tongue was screwed, which being seared at the tip with a glowing iron, would swell to such a degree as to become immovable and incapable of being drawn back; thus fastened, the tongue would wriggle about with the pain of burning, and yield a hollow sound" (i. ).] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne_, iii. .] [footnote : cf. william's letters, _correspondance_, etc. iii. - .] [footnote : groen van prinsterer, _archives ou correspondance inédite de la orange-nassau_ (utrecht, - ).] [footnote : the small principality of orange-chalons was situated in the south of france on the river rhone, its south-west corner being about ten miles north of the city of avignon. henry of nassau, the uncle of our william of orange, had married claude, the sister of philibert, the last male of the house of orange-chalons; and philibert had bequeathed his principality to his nephew rené, the son of henry and claude. the principality was of no great value compared with the other possessions of the house of nassau, but as it was under no overlord, its possessor took rank among the _sovereign_ princes of europe.] [footnote : putnam, _william the silent, the prince of orange, the moderate man of the sixteenth century_, vols., new york, .] [footnote : gachard, _correspondance de guillaume le taciturne, prince d'orange_, ii. .] [footnote : it is said that william's reticence on hearing this news, which moved him so much, gained him the name of "the silent" (_le taciturne_): it is more probable that the soubriquet was given to him by cardinal de granvelle.] [footnote : maurice succeeded his father as stadtholder, and became prince of orange in on the death of his elder brother, philip william, who was kidnapped from louvain and brought up as a roman catholic by philip ii. william was married four times: _a._ in , to anne of egmont, only child of maximilian of buren. her son was philip william; she died in march . _b._ in , to anne, daughter of the elector maurice of saxony, and granddaughter of philip of hesse. she early developed symptoms of incipient insanity, which came to a height when she deserted her husband in and went to live a disreputable life in cologne. she became insane, and her family seized her and imprisoned her until she died in . she was the mother of maurice. _c._ in , charlotte de bourbon, daughter of the due de montpensier. she had been a nun, had embraced the reformed faith, and fled to germany. the marriage was a singularly happy one. she was scarcely recovered from childbirth when william was almost killed by jaureguy, and the shock, combined with her incessant toil in nursing her husband, was too much for her strength; she died in (may th). _d._ in , to louise de coligny, daughter of the celebrated admiral coligny. she had lost both her parents in the massacre of saint bartholomew. she was a wonderful and charming woman, beloved by her stepchildren and adored by her adopted country; she survived her husband forty years.] [footnote : lindsay, _the church and the ministry in the early centuries_, nd ed. (london, ), pp. , _f._, , _n._, .] [footnote : müller, _die bekenntnisschriften der reformirten kirche_ (leipzig, ), p. ; schaff, _the creeds of the evangelical protestant churches_, .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : sources:--_calendar of the state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots, - _ (edinburgh, , etc.); _calendar of state papers, elizabeth, foreign_ (london, , etc.); _acts of the parliament of scotland_, ii. ( ); _register of the great seal of scotland_ (edinburgh, ); _register of the privy council of scotland_, i. (edinburgh, ); labanoff, _lettres inédites de marie stuart_ (paris, ), and _lettres, instructions et mémoires de marie stuart_ (london, ); pollen, _papal negotiations with mary queen of scots_ (scottish historical society, edinburgh, ); teulet, _papiers d'état ... relatifs à l'histoire de l'Écosse_ (bannatyne club, ), and _relations politiques de la france et de l'espagne avec l'Écosse_ (paris, ); lesley, _history of scotland_ (scottish text society, edinburgh, ); john knox, _works_ (edited by d. laing, edinburgh, - ); _the book of the universal kirk_ (bannatyne club, edinburgh, ); _gude and godlie ballatis_ (edited by mitchell for scottish text society, edinburgh, ); (dunlop), _a collection of confessions of faith_, etc. ii. (edinburgh, ); calderwood, _history of the kirk of scotland_ (woodrow society, edinburgh, - ); row, _history of the kirk of scotland_ (woodrow society, edinburgh, ); spottiswoode, _history of the church and state of scotland_ (spottiswoode society, edinburgh, ); scott, _fasti ecclesiæ scoticanæ_ (edinburgh, - ); sir david lindsay, _poetical works_ (edited by david laing, edinburgh, ); _the book of common order of the church of scotland_ (edited by sprott and leishman, edinburgh, ); _rotuli scotiæ; calvin's letters_ (_corpus reformatorum_, xxxviii.-xlviii.). later books: d. hay fleming, _mary queen of scots from her birth until her flight into england_ (london, ), _the scottish reformation_ (edinburgh, ), and _the story of the scottish covenants_ (edinburgh, ); p. hume brown, _john knox_ (london, ), and _george buchanan_ (edinburgh, ); maccrie, _life of knox_ (edinburgh, ); grub, _ecclesiastical history of scotland_ (edinburgh, ); cunningham, _the church history of scotland_ (edinburgh, ); lorimer, _life of patrick hamilton_ (edinburgh, ), _john knox and the church of england_ (london, ).] [footnote : cf. _cambridge modern history_ (cambridge, ), ii. - .] [footnote : _rotuli scotiæ_, i. , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ii. , , , .] [footnote : wyntoun, _orygynale cronykil_, ix. c. xxvi. , .] [footnote : for a collection of these references, cf. _the scottish historical review_ for april , pp. _ff._ purveys revision of wiclifs _new testament_ was translated by murdoch nisbet into scots. it is being published by the scottish text society, _the new testament in scots_, i. , ii. . the translation was made about .] [footnote : row, _history of kirk of scotland from the year to august _ (edinburgh, ), p. .] [footnote : _act. parl. scot._ ii. .] [footnote : hay fleming, _the scottish reformation_, p. .] [footnote : _act. parl. scot._ ii. .] [footnote : luther says so himself; cf. letter to lange of april th, ; de wette, _dr. martin luthers briefe, sendschreiben_, etc. (berlin, - ) i. ; and herminjard, _correspondance des réformateurs dans les pays de langue française_ (geneva and paris, - ), i. , .] [footnote : these theses were translated from the latin into the vernacular by john firth, and published under the title of _patrick's places_. they are printed in foxe's _acts and monuments_, and by knox in his _history of the reformation in scotland; the works of john knox collected and edited by david laing_ (edinburgh, - ), i. , _ff._ for patrick hamilton, cf. lorimer, _patrick hamilton, the first preacher and martyr of the scottish reformation_ (edinburgh, ).] [footnote : buchanan, _rerum scoticarum historia_, xiv. (p. in ruddiman's edition).] [footnote : _act. parl. scot._ ii. , ii. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox, collected and edited by david laing_ (edinburgh, - ), i. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. - .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : dr. hay fleming has settled the vexed question of the date of knox's birth in his article in the _bookman_ for sept. , p. ; cf. _athenæum_, nov. th and dec. rd, .] [footnote : _works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : calderwood, _the history of the kirk of scotland_ (edinburgh, - ) i. - .] [footnote : lorimer, _john knox and the church of england_ (london, ), pp. ff. the rubric is to be found in _the two liturgies with other documents set forth by authority in the reign of king edward the sixth_ (cambridge, ), p. . the volume is one of the parker society's publications.] [footnote : the questions will be found in the volumes, _original letters_, published by the parker society (cambridge, ), p. ; and in _the works of john knox_, etc. iii. .] [footnote : calvin to knox (april rd, ); calvin to goodman (april rd, ); _the works of john knox_ etc. vi. , ; cf. calvini opera (amsterdam, ), ix. _epistolæ et responsa_, p. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. ; d. hay fleming, _the story of the scottish covenants in outline_ (edinburgh, ), p. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : for the covenants of the scottish church, cf. d. hay fleming, _the story of the scottish covenants in outline_ (edinburgh, ).] [footnote : cecil, writing to throckmorton in paris (july th, ), says that in scotland "they deliver the parish churches of altars, and receive the service of the church of england according to king edward's book" (_calendar of state papers, elizabeth, foreign, - _, p. ).] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. i. - .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. i. .] [footnote : the correspondence will be found in _the works of john knox_, etc. i. , _ff._, iv. _ff._] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. iv. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, foreign series, on the reign of elizabeth, - _, pp. , ; _ - _, pp. , .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. v. .] [footnote : this summary has been taken from dr. hay fleming's admirable little book, _the scottish reformation_ (edinburgh, ), p. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, foreign series, of the reign of elizabeth, - _, pp. , ; _ - _, p. . the whole of dr. mundt's correspondence is interesting, and shows that after the treaty of cateau-cambrésis continual incidents occurred showing that the romanists were regaining the hope of repressing the whole protestant movement.] [footnote : _ibid. - _. p. : "all good men hope that england, warned by the dangers of others, will take care, by dissimulation and art, that the nation near to itself, whose cause is the same as her own, shall not be first deserted and then overwhelmed" (_dr. mundt to cecil_, oct. th, ).] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, foreign series, of the reign of elizabeth, - _, p. .] [footnote : _ibid. - _, p. , _cecil to croft_, july th, .] [footnote : _ibid. - _, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : cf. his pathetic letter offering to resign. _ibid._ p. _n._] [footnote : the duke of châtellerault (earl of arran) was next in succession after mary and her offspring; cf. a curious note on him and his doings, _ibid._ p. _n._ for the treaty, cf. _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. , and _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. _ff._] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, foreign series, of the reign of elizabeth, - _, pp. - .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. vi. , , .] [footnote : "matters of religion to be passed over in silence" (_calendar of state papers_, etc. p. ).] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. i. .] [footnote : _ibid._ i. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. .] [footnote : cf. _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. - .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. .] [footnote : spottiswoode, _history of the church of scotland_ (edinburgh, ), i. .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. ; (dunlop's) _collection of confessions of faith_, etc. (edinburgh, ) ii. , .] [footnote : _act. parl. scot._ ii. - .] [footnote : lesley, _de rebus gestis scotorum_ (bannatyne club, edinburgh), p. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. , in a letter from randolph to cecil of aug. th.] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. , .] [footnote : the scots confession is to be found in (dunlop's) _collection of confessions of faith, catechisms, directories, books of discipline, etc., of public authority in the church of scotland_ (edinburgh, ), ii. , _ff._, where the scots and the latin versions are printed in parallel columns; in schaff's _creeds of the evangelical protestant churches_ (london, ), pp. _ff._; and the latin version alone in niemeyer, _collectio confessionum in ecclesiis reformatis publicatarum_ (leipzig, ), pp. , _ff._ for a statement of its characteristics, cf. mitchell, _the scottish reformation_ (baird lecture for , edinburgh, ), pp. , _ff._] [footnote : as edward irving, cf. _collected writings_ (london, ), i. , _ff._] [footnote : (dunlop's) _collection of confessions_, etc. pp. - .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. , .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers_, etc. i. , _maitland to cecil_ (august th).] [footnote : _ibid._ i. , _randolph to cecil_ (august th).] [footnote : _ibid._ i. , _maitland to cecil_ (september th).] [footnote : for a description of the _first book of discipline_, cf. mitchell, _the scottish reformation_, etc. pp. _ff._ the document itself is to be found in (dunlop's) _collection of confessions_, etc. ii. _ff._] [footnote : for the _book of common order_, cf. mitchell's _scottish reformation_, pp. , _ff._ the book itself is to be found in (dunlop's) _collection of confessions_, ii. , _ff._ it has been published with learned preface and notes by sprott and leishman (edinburgh, ).] [footnote : bonar's _catechisms of the scottish reformation_ (london, ); (dunlop's) _collection of confessions_, etc. ii. - .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. vi. .] [footnote : _ibid._ vi. , _knox to mrs. anna locke_ (sept. nd, ).] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, vi. , _knox to gregory railton_ (oct. rd, ).] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. , .] [footnote : hay fleming, _mary queen of scots_ (london, ), pp. , , and , .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , .] [footnote : mariéjol, _histoire de france depuis les origines jusqu' à la revolution_, vi. i. (paris, ).] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. .] [footnote : "das leben geliebt und die krone geküsst, und den frauen das herz gegeben, und zuletzt einen kuss auf das blut'ge gerüst-- das ist ein stuartleben." ] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. .] [footnote : _ibid._ i. .] [footnote : that is the impression which his letters give me. cf. _calendar_, etc. pp. - .] [footnote : "if there be not in her a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate heart gainst god and his truth, my judgment faileth me" (_the works of john knox_, etc. ii. ).] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. vi. , _letter from knox to cecil_ (oct. th, ).] [footnote : _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_, i. .] [footnote : for summary of evidence, cf. hay fleming, _mary queen of scots_, pp. - .] [footnote : for summary of evidence, cf. hay fleming, _mary queen of scots_, pp. - , .] [footnote : _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. .] [footnote : accounts of the five interviews are to be found in _the works of john knox_, etc. ii. _ ff., ff., ff., ff., ff._] [footnote : sources: laemmer, _monumenta vaticana historiam ecclesiasticam sæculi_ _illustrantia_ (freiburg, ); _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii._ ( vols., london, - ); _calendar of venetian state papers, - , - , - , - , - , - ; calendar of spanish state papers_ (london, ); furnivall, _ballads from manuscripts_ (ballad society, london, - ); gee and hardy, _documents illustrative of english church history_ (london, ); erasmus, _opera omnia_, ed. le clerc (leyden, - ); nichols, _the epistles of erasmus from the earliest letters to his fifty-first year, arranged in order of time_ (london, - ); pocock, _records of the reformation_ (oxford, ); theiner, _vetera monumenta hibernorum et scotorum historiam illustrantia_ (rome, ); wilkins, _concilia; chronicle of the grey friars of london_, (camden society, london, ); holinshed, _chronicles_ (london, ); _london chronicle in the times of henry vii. and henry viii._ (_camden miscellany_, vol. iv., london, ); wright, _suppression of the monasteries_ (camden society, london, ); foxe, _acts and monuments_ (london, ); ehses, _römische dokumente zur geschichte des heinrichs viii. von england, - _ (paderborn, ); _zurich letters_, vols. (parker society, cambridge, - ); _works of archbishop cranmer_, vols. (parker society, cambridge, - ). later books: dixon, _history of the church of england_ (london, , etc.); fronde, _history of england_ (london, - ; by no means superseded, as many would have us believe); brewer, _the reign of henry viii._ (london, ); gairdner, _the english church in the sixteenth century_ (london, ); pollard, _henry viii._ (london, ), _thomas cranmer_ (_heroes of the reformation series_, new york and london, ); stubbs, _seventeen lectures on the study of mediæval and modern history_, lectures xi. and xii. (oxford, ); _cambridge modern history_, ii. xiii.] [footnote : _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii._ i. p. . there was a sudden rise in the price of wood all over europe about that date, and it is alleged to be one of the causes why the poorer classes in germany were obliged to give up the earlier almost universal use of the steam bath. in the fifteenth century, masters gave their workmen not _trinkgelt_, but _badgelt_. nichols, _the epistles of erasmus_, i. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. i. : the oxford bookseller ( ) john dorne had two copies in his stock of books [_oxford historical society, collectanea_ (oxford, ), p. ].] [footnote : _letters and papers_, i. p. .] [footnote : jacobs, _the lutheran movement in england_, p. .] [footnote : bale, _select works_, p. .] [footnote : _erasmi colloquia_ (amsterdam, ), _peregrinatio religionis ergo_ p. ; _viclerita quispiam, opinor_.] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. v. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ vi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _thomas cranmer and the english reformation_ (new york and london, ), p. .] [footnote : _dictionary of national biography_, art. "wycliffe," lxiii, .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. ii. i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. i. p. , ii. i. pp. , , .] [footnote : _ibid._ i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ iii. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iii. p. .] [footnote : _oxford historical society, collectanea_ (oxford, ), p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_ etc. iii p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. iii. i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ iii. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iii. i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ iv., preface, p. : "some are of opinion that it (the holy see) should not continue in rome, lest the french king should make a patriarch in his kingdom and deny obedience to the said see, and the king of england and all other christian princes do the same."] [footnote : _spanish calendar_, i. .] [footnote : pocock's _records of the reformation_, i. ; _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. p. .] [footnote : _calendar of spanish state papers_, ii. .] [footnote : _ibid._, preface, xiii.] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. p. . a general council had pronounced against such a dispensation; _ibid._ iv. iii. p. .] [footnote : _calendar of venetian state papers, - _, p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iv. ii. p. ; _calendar of spanish state papers_, iii. ii. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. iv. ii. p. ; laemmer, _monumenta vaticana_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. iv. iii. p. .] [footnote : for the case of mary tudor, cf. _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. p. , cf. iv. i. p. ; and for that of margaret tudor, widow of james iv., cf. iv. ii. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. pp. , , .] [footnote : _calendar of spanish state papers_, ii. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. pp. , .] [footnote : the two statutes of _præmunire_ ( , ) will be found in gee and hardy, _documents illustrative of english church history_ (london, ), pp. , . they forbid subjects taking plaints cognisable in the king's courts to courts outside the realm, and the second statute makes pointed reference to the papal courts.] [footnote : paris and orleans, _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. p. ; bourges and bologna, _ibid._ iv. iii. p. ; padua, _ibid._ iv. iii. pp. , (it is said that the lutherans in the city strongly opposed the king); pavia, _ibid._ iv. iii. p. ; ferrara, _ibid._ iv. iii. .] [footnote : a list of the matters to be brought before this parliament is given in _letters and papers_, etc. iv. iii. pp. _ff._] [footnote : _ibid._ iv. iii. pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ iv. iii. p. (december th, ).] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. v. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. v. p. . chapuys thought that the declaration made the king "pope of england."] [footnote : cf. gee and hardy, _documents illustrative of the history of the english church_, p. . chapuys declares that "churchmen will be of less account than shoemakers, who have the power of assembling and making their own statutes" (_letters and papers_, etc. v. ; cf. vi. ).] [footnote : _ibid._ p. ; the suspensory clause is on p. . _letters and papers_, etc. v. pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. v. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. v. p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. ; the important clause is on p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. vi. pp. , ; cf. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. vi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ vi. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. vi. pp. , ; cf. .] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. vi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ vi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ vi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._. vi. p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents illustrative of the history of the english church_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xi. pp. , .] [footnote : the two sets of _injunctions_ are printed in gee and hardy's _documents illustrative of the history of the english church_, pp. , .] [footnote : the list of members is given in _letters and papers_, etc. xii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, xii. ii. p. (_foxe of hereford to bucer_).] [footnote : _ibid._ etc. xii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xii. ii. pp. , , .] [footnote : _ibid._ xii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xii. ii. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ xii. ii. p. .] [footnote : cranmer's _miscellaneous writings and letters_ (parker society, cambridge, ), pp. - , contains _corrections of the institution of a christian man_ (the _bishops' book_) _by henry viii., with archbishop cranmer's annotations_.] [footnote : as late as jan. we find him writing: "let us agitate for the use of scripture in the mother-tongue, and for learning in the universities.... i never altered a syllable of god's word myself, nor would, against my conscience" (_letters and papers_, etc. vi. p. ).] [footnote : cf. tyndale's answer to sir thomas more's animadversions, _works_ (day's edition), p. .] [footnote : cf. pollard's excellent and trenchant note, _cranmer and the english reformation_ (new york and london, ), p. ; gairdner, _the english church in the sixteenth century, from the accession of henry viii. to the death of mary_ (london, ), pp. - .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xii. ii. .] [footnote : _national dictionary of biography_, art. "rogers."] [footnote : the excellence of tyndale's version is shown by the fact that many of his renderings have been adopted in the revised version.] [footnote : dixon, _history of the church of england_ (london, , etc.), ii. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. ix. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix. .] [footnote : _ibid._ x. p. ; cf. de wette, _dr. martin luthers briefe_, etc. iv. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix. p. ; cf. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix. pp. , , , .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. ix. pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid._ x. p. .] [footnote : these articles have been printed with a good historical introduction by professor mentz of jena, _die wittenberger artikel von _ (leipzig, ).] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. x. p. ; cf. , , .] [footnote : _ibid._ ix. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ x. p. .] [footnote : the act is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xiii. ii. pp. , , , . in _letters and papers_, etc. xiv. i. p. , there is an _official_ account of the english reformation under henry viii., in which there is the following (p. ): "touching images set in the churches, as books of the unlearned, though they are not necessary, but rather give occasion to jews, turks, and saracens to think we are idolaters, the king tolerates them, except those about which idolatry has been committed.... our lady of worcester, when her garments were taken off, was found to be the similitude of a bishop, like a giant, almost ten feet long;... the roods at boxelegh and other places, which moved their eyes and lips when certain keys and strings were bent or pulled in secret places--images of this sort the king has caused to be voided and committed other as it was convenient, following the example of king hezekiah, who destroyed the brazen serpent. shrines, copses, and reliquaries, so called, have been found to be feigned things, as the blood of christ was but a piece of red silk enclosed in a thick glass of crystalline, and in another place oil coloured of _sanguis draconis_, instead of the milk of our lady a piece of chalk or ceruse. our lady's girdle, the verges of moses and aaron, etc., and more of the holy cross than three cars may carry, the king has therefore caused to be taken away and the abusive pieces burnt, and the doubtful sort hidden away honestly for fear of idolatry."] [footnote : _ibid._ xiii. i. - , _nicholas partridge to bullinger_ (april th).] [footnote : _the act for the dissolution of the greater monasteries_ is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xiii. ii. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xiii. ii. p. . "in oppido calistrensi" is probably "at coldstream"; beaton had been made a cardinal to be ready to make the publication.] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xi. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xi. pp. , , , , , , .] [footnote : _ibid._ xi. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xi. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xiv. i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ xiv. i. pp. , , .] [footnote : _ibid._ xiv. i. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xiv. i. p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _letters and papers_, etc. xiv. i. pp. , .] [footnote : sources in addition to those given on p. : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reigns of edward vi., mary, and elizabeth_ (this calendar is for the most part merely an index to documents which must be read in the record office); _correspondance politique d'odet de selve: commission des archives politiques_, (paris, ); _literary remains of edward vi._ (roxburgh club, london, ); _narratives of the reformation_ (camden society, london, ); wriothesley, _chronicle_ (camden society, london, ); weiss, _papiers d'État du cardinal de granvelle (collection de documents inédits_, paris, - ); furnivall, _ballads from manuscripts_ (ballad society, london, ); _four supplications of the commons_, and thomas starkey, _england under henry viii._ (early english text society, ); strype, _ecclesiastical memorials and life of cranmer_ (oxford edition, vols. , etc.); _liturgies of edward vi._ (parker society, cambridge, ); _stow annals_ (london, ). later books in addition to those given on p. : pollard, _england under protector somerset_ (london, ); burnet, _history of the reformation_ (oxford edition, ); dixon, _history of the church of england_ (london, ); gasquet and bishop, _edward vi. and the book of common prayer_ (london, ). _cambridge modern history_, ii. xiv.] [footnote : pollard, _cambridge modern history_, ii. .] [footnote : these _injunctions_, and the _articles of inquiry_ which interprets them, are printed in strype, _ecclesiastical memorials_, etc. (oxford, ) ii. i. pp. - .] [footnote : cranmer, _miscellaneous writings and letters_ (parker society cambridge, ), p. .] [footnote : _english historical review_ for (january), pp. _ff._] [footnote : this act, entitled _act against revilers, and for receiving in both kinds_, is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _ecclesiastical memorials_, etc. ii. i. p. . it is printed in _the two liturgies, with other documents set forth by authority in the reign of king edward the sixth_ (parker society, cambridge, ), p. .] [footnote : the book is printed in _the two liturgies_, etc., of the parker society, pp. _ff._] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. pp. _ff._] [footnote : mr. pollard (_cambridge modern history_, ii. pp. , ) thinks that the influence of these foreign divines on the english reformation has been overrated; and he is probably correct so far as changes in worship and usages go. his idea is that the english reformers followed the lead of wiclif, consciously or unconsciously, rather than that of continental divines; but if the root-thought in all reformation theology be considered, it may be doubted whether wiclif _could_ supply what the english divines had in common with their continental contemporaries. "wiclif, with all his desire for reformation, was essentially a mediæval thinker." the theological question which separated every mediæval reformer from the thinkers of the reformation was, how the benefits won by the atoning work of christ were to be appropriated by men? the universal mediæval answer was, by an imitation of christ; while the universal reformation answer was, by trust in the promises of god (for that is what is meant by justification by faith). in their answer to this test question, the english divines are at one with the reformers on the continent, and not with wiclif.] [footnote : pollard, _england under protector somerset_ (london, ).] [footnote : "tulchan is a calf skin stuffed with straw to cause the cow to give milk. the bishop served to cause the bishoprick to yeeld commoditie to my lord who procured it to him." scott's _apologetical narration of the state and government of the kirk of scotland since the reformation_ (woodrow society, edinburgh, ), p. .] [footnote : the book is printed in _the two liturgies, with other documents_, etc. (parker society), p. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : compare _the two liturgies_, etc. (parker society) p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _original letters relative to the english reformation_ (parker society, cambridge, ), ii. .] [footnote : _original letters_, etc. (parker society) ii. , _macronius to bullinger_ (august th, ).] [footnote : sources in addition to those on pp. : _epistolæ reginaldi poli, s. r. e. cardinalis_, vols. (brixen, - ); _chronicle of queen jane and of two years of queen mary, and especially of the rebellion of sir thomas wyat, written by a resident in the tower of london_ (camden society, london, ); garnett, _the accession of queen mary; being the contemporary narrative of antonio guaras_, etc. (london, ). later books: stone, _history of mary i., queen of england_ (london, ); ranke, _die römischen päpste_ (berlin, ); hume, _visit of philip ii. ( )_ (_english historical review_, ); leadam, _narrative of the pursuit of the english refugees in germany under queen mary_ (_transactions_ of royal historical society, ); wiesener, _the youth of queen elizabeth, - _ (english translation, london, ); zimmermann, _kardinal pole sein leben und seine schriften_ (regensburg, ).] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : the act of parliament is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : philip's marriages had this peculiarity about them, that his second wife (mary) had been betrothed to his father, and his third wife had been betrothed to his son.] [footnote : strype, memorials of queen mary's reign, iii. ii. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : in the days of henry viii., bishop gardiner had published a book under this title, in which the papal jurisdiction in england was strongly repudiated. someone, probably bale, when gardiner was aiding the queen to restore that supremacy, had translated the book into english, and had printed at the bottom of the title-page, "a double-minded man is inconstant in all his ways."] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. , the act _de hæretico comburendo_ will be found on p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : bonner's articles of inquiry are printed in strype's _historical memorials, ecclesiastical and civil_, etc. iii. ii. p. .] [footnote : gairdner's _the english church in the sixteenth century_, etc. (london, ) p. .] [footnote : strype, _memorials, ecclesiastical and civil_, etc. iii. i. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ iii. ii. .] [footnote : strype, _memorials, ecclesiastical and civil_, etc. iii, i. , iii. ii, .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reign of elizabeth_, - ; with addenda, - (london, ), p. .] [footnote : an account of cranmer's trial is given in foxe, _acts and monuments_ (london, ), iii. _ff._ the process is in cranmer's _miscellaneous writings and letters_ (parker society), pp. _ff._] [footnote : cranmer's _works_, ii. _ff._] [footnote : _works_, ii. pp. - .] [footnote : _miscellaneous writings_, etc. (parker society) p. .] [footnote : pollard, _cranmer_, pp. - .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers and mss. existing in the archives and collections of venice, - _, p. .] [footnote : pollard, _cranmer_, p. .] [footnote : there are few more pathetic documents among the state papers than those thus catalogued: "king philip and queen mary to cardinal pole, notifying that the queen has been delivered of a prince." "passport signed by the king and queen for sir henry sydney to go over to the king of the romans and the king of bohemia, to announce the queen's happy delivery of a prince." there are several such notifications all ready for the birth which never took place. _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reigns of edward vi., mary, elizabeth, - _ (london, ), p. .] [footnote : sources: _calendar of state papers, elizabeth, foreign_ (london, , etc.); _calendar of state papers relating to scotland and mary queen of scots_ (edinburgh, , etc.); _calendar of state papers, hatfield mss._ (london, ); _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _ (london, ); _calendar of state papers, spanish, - _ (london, ); weiss, _papiers d'état du cardinal granvelle_, vols. iv.-vi. (paris, - ); _bullarium romanum_, for two bulls--the one of (i. ) and the one deposing elizabeth (ii. ); _a collection of original letters from the bishops to the privy council, _ (vol. ix. of the _camden miscellany_, london, ); _calvin's letters_ (vols. xxxviii.-xlviii. of the _corpus reformatorum_); _zurich letters_ (two series) (parker society, cambridge, ); _liturgies and occasional forms of prayer set forth in the reign of queen elizabeth_ (parker society, cambridge, ); dysen, _queene elizabeth's proclamation_ ( ). later books: creighton, _queen elizabeth_ (london, ); hume, _the courtships of queen elizabeth_ (london, ); and _the great lord burghley_ (london, ); philippson, _la contre-révolution religieuse_ (brussels, ); ruble, _le traité de cateau-cambrésis_ (paris, ); gee, _the elizabethan clergy_ (oxford, ); and _the elizabethan prayer-book and ornaments_ (london, ); tomlinson, _the prayer-book, articles and homilies_ (london, ); hardwick, _history of the articles of religion_ (cambridge, ); lorimer, _john knox and the church of england_ (london, ); neal, _history of the puritans_ (london, ); parker _the ornaments rubric_ (oxford, ); shaw, _elizabethan presbyterianism_ (_english historical review_, iii. ); _cambridge modern history_, ii. _ff._; frere, _history of the english church in the reigns of elizabeth and james - _ (london, ).] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_ (london, ), i. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. . in the same letter the bishop blames the instructions of the "italian heretic friars," i.e. peter martyr vermigli and ochino; cf. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , , , etc.] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , .] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs_, etc. introduction, p. lv.] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , ; cf. .] [footnote : cf. _device_ in gee's _elizabethan prayer-book_, p. .] [footnote : strype, _annals of the reformation and establishment of religion_, etc. (oxford, ) i. ii. .] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : goderick's _divers points of religion contrary to the church of rome_ is printed by dr. gee in the appendix to his _elizabethan prayer-book and ornaments_ (london, ), pp. _ff._; the sentence quoted is on p. ; the document is also in dixon's _history of the church of england_, v. .] [footnote : _venetian state papers, - _, .] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved chiefly in the archives of simancas_, i. , .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reigns of edward vi., mary, and elizabeth_ (london, ), i. .] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved chiefly in the archives of simancas_, i. .] [footnote : _ibid._ pp. , .] [footnote : _english historical review_ for july , pp. , _ff._; _dublin review_, jan. ; _the church intelligencer_, sept. , pp. , _ff._] [footnote : cf. tomlinson, "elizabethan prayer-book: chronological table of its enactment," in _church gazette_ for oct. , p. .] [footnote : _dublin review_, jan. , p. _n_: "ad quem eundem locum (house of commons) isti convenerunt (ut communis fertur opinio) ad numerum ducentorum virorum, et non decem catholici inter illos sunt reperti."] [footnote : _zurich letters_, i. (parker society, cambridge, ); cf. _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas, - _, p. : "to-morrow it (the bill) goes to the upper house, where the bishops and some others are ready to die rather than consent to it."] [footnote : for "il schifanoya" and his trustworthiness, cf. _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, preface viii.] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : canon dixon (_history of the church of england_, v. ) declares that the phrase "supreme head" was not in the bill. he has overlooked the fact that heath in his speech against it quotes the actual words used in the proposed act: "i promised to move your honours to consider what this supremacy is which we go about by virtue of this act to give to the queen's highness, and wherein it doth consist, as whether in spiritual government or in temporal. if in spiritual, like as the words of the act do import, scilicet: _supreme head of the church of england immediate and next under god_, then it would be considered whether this house hathe authority to grant them, and her highness to receive the same" (strype, _annals_, i. i. ).] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved chiefly in the archives of simancas, - _, pp. , , , , ; _parker's correspondence_, p. ; _zurich letters_, i. .] [footnote : the act is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : the acts of henry viii. which were revived were:-- hen. viii. c. --_the restraint of appeals_, passed in ; hen. viii. c. --_the conditional restraint of annates_; hen. viii. c. --_the submission of the clergy and restraint of appeals of _; hen. viii. c. --_the ecclesiastical appointments act; the absolute restraint of annates, election of bishops, and letters missive act of _; hen. viii. c. --_act forbidding papal dispensations and the payment of peter's pence of _; hen. viii. c. --_suffragan bishops' act of _; and hen. viii. c. --_act for the release of such as have obtained pretended dispensations from the see of rome._ these acts are all, save the last mentioned, printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. pp. - , - .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : the act is printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. pp. _ff._] [footnote : gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : the _device_ is printed in strype, _annals_, etc. i. ii. , and in gee's _elizabethan prayer book and ornaments_ (london, ), p. .] [footnote : gee's _elizabethan prayer-book and ornaments_, pp. _f._] [footnote : _zurich letters_, ii. .] [footnote : the _journal of the house of commons_, i. : "the bill for the order of service and ministers in the church" (feb. th); _the book of common prayer and ministration of sacraments_ (feb. th).] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, p. : "a book passed by the commons"; cf. above, p. ; cf. also bishop scot's speech on the reading of the bill which was emasculated by the lords, in strype's _annals_, i. ii. .] [footnote : dr. gee rejects the idea that guest's letter had anything to do with the book passed by the commons and rejected by the lords; cf. his _elizabethan prayer-book and ornaments_, pp. ff.; and for a criticism of dr. gee, tomlinson, _the elizabethan prayer-book and ornaments; a review_, p. . guest's letter is printed by dr. gee in his _elizabethan prayer-book_, etc. p. , and more accurately by mr. tomlinson in his tract, _why was the first prayer-book of edward vi. rejected?_] [footnote : "il schifanoya" reports the wrath of the commons: they "grew angry, and would consent to nothing, but are in very great controversy" (_calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, p. ); cf. p. .] [footnote : _journal of the house of commons_, i. .] [footnote : professor maitland (_english historical review_, july , p. _n._) and father j. h. pollen (_dublin review_, january ) think that this proclamation of the nd of march was never issued; but "il schifanoya" can hardly refer to any other.] [footnote : "on easter day, her majesty appeared in the chapel, where mass was sung in english, according to the use of her brother, king edward, and the communion was received in both 'kinds,' kneeling, _facendoli il sacerdote la credenza del corpo et sangue prima_; nor did he wear anything but the mere surplice (_la semplice cotta_), having divested himself of the vestments (_li paramenti_) in which he had sung mass; and thus her majesty was followed by many lords both of the council and others. since that day things have returned to their former state, though unless the almighty stretch forth his arm a relapse is expected. these accursed preachers, who have come from germany, do not fail to preach in their own fashion, both in public and in private, in such wise that they persuaded certain rogues to forcibly enter the church of st. mary-le-bow, in the middle of cheapside, and force the shrine of the most holy sacrament, breaking the tabernacle, and throwing the most precious consecrated body of jesus christ to the ground. they also destroyed the altar and the images, with the pall (_palio_) and church linen (_tovalie_), breaking everything into a thousand pieces. this happened this very night, which is the third after easter.... many persons have taken the communion in the usual manner, and things continue as usual in the churches" (_calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, p. ).] [footnote : the speeches of abbot feckenham and bishop scot, reprinted in gee's _elizabethan prayer-book_, etc. pp. _ff._, represent the arguments used in the lords. scot's speech was delivered on the third reading of the act of uniformity, quite a month after the westminster conference, and feckenham's _may_ have been made at the same time; still they show the arguments of the romanists.] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas, - _, pp. , - ; _zurich letters_, i. _ff._; strype's _annals_, etc. i. i. - , i. ii. ; _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, pp. , .] [footnote : "king edward's reformation satisfieth the godly": bullinger to utenhovius (_zurich letters_, nd series, p. _n._; strype, _annals_, i. i. ).] [footnote : may th, cox to weidner: "the sincere religion of christ is therefore established among us in all parts of the kingdom, just in the same manner as it was formerly promulgated under our edward of blessed memory" (_zurich letters_, i. ). may st, parkhurst to bullinger: "the book of common prayer, set forth in the time of king edward, is now again in general use throughout england, and will be everywhere, in spite of the struggles and opposition of the pseudo-bishops" (_zurich letters_, i. ). may nd, jewel to bullinger: "religion is again placed on the same footing on which it stood in king edward's time; to which event i doubt not but that your own letters and those of your republic have powerfully contributed" (_zurich letters_, i. ). may rd, grindal to conrad hubert: "but now at last, by the blessing of god, during the prorogation of parliament, there has been published a proclamation to banish the pope and his jurisdiction altogether, and to restore religion to that form which we had in the time of edward vi." (_zurich letters_, ii. ). dr. gee seems to beg an important historical question when he says that these letters _must_ have been written before the writers knew that the prayer-book had been actually altered in more than the three points mentioned in the act of uniformity. grindal, writing again to hubert on july th, when he must have known everything, says: "the state of our church (to come to that subject) is pretty much the same as when i last wrote to you, except only that what had heretofore been settled by proclamations and laws with respect to the reformation of the churches is now daily being carried into effect." cf. gee's _elizabethan prayer-book_, etc. p. _n._, for the actual differences between the edwardine book of and the elizabethan book of .] [footnote : _cambridge modern history_, ii, .] [footnote : the rubric explaining kneeling at the communion had not the authority of parliament, but only of the privy council, and was not included. the rubric of regarding _ornaments_, which had the authority of parliament and was re-enacted by the act of uniformity of , was: "and here is to be noted that the minister at the time of communion, and at all other times in his ministration, shall use _neither alb, vestment, nor cope; but being archbishop or bishop, he shall have and wear a rochet: and being priest or deacon, he shall have and wear a surplice only._" this is the real _ornaments_ rubric of the elizabethan settlement, and appears to be such in the use and wont of the church of england from to , save that _copes_ were used occasionally. the proviso in the act of uniformity ( ) was: "such ornaments of the church and of the ministers thereof shall be retained and be in use as was in this church of england by authority of parliament in the _second_ year of the reign of king edward vi., until other order shall be therein taken by the authority of the queen's majesty, with the advice of her commissioners appointed and authorised under the great seal of england for causes ecclesiastical, or of the metropolitan of this realm." the ornaments in use in the second year of edward vi. are stated in the rubrics of the first prayer-book of king edward ( ): "upon the day, and at the time appointed for the ministration of the holy communion, the priest that shall execute the holy ministry shall put upon him the vesture appointed for that ministration, that is to say: a white albe plain, with a vestment or cope. and where there be many priests or deacons, there so many shall be ready to help the priest in the ministration as shall be requisite: and shall have upon them likewise the vestures appointed for their ministry, that is to say, albes with tunicles." at the end there is another rubric: "upon wednesdays and fridays, the english litany shall be said or sung in all places after such form as is appointed by the king's majesty's injunctions; or as is or shall be otherwise appointed by his highness. and though there be none to communicate with the priest, yet these days (after the litany ended) the priest shall put upon him a plain albe or surplice, with a cope, and say all things at the altar appointed to be said at the celebration of the lord's supper, until after the offertory."] [footnote : _parker's correspondence_, p. .] [footnote : the rubric is: "and here it is to be noted that the minister at the time of communion and at all other times in his ministrations, shall use such ornaments in the church as were in use by authority of parliament in the second year of the reign of king edward vi., according to the act of parliament set in the beginning of this book."] [footnote : dr. gee (_elizabethan ornaments_, etc. p. ) thinks that there can be no reasonable doubt that the rubric was recorded on the authority of the privy council. "the privy council had certainly inserted the black rubric in , as their published acts attest, but all the records of the privy council from th may until th may have disappeared." the precedent cited is scarcely a parallel case. the black rubric was an explanation; the rubric of is almost a contradiction in terms of the act which restores the prayer-book of . if i may venture to express an opinion, it seems to me most likely that the rubric was added by the queen herself, and that she inserted it in order to be able to "hedge." it is too often forgotten that the danger which overshadowed the earlier years of elizabeth was the issue of a papal bull proclaiming her a heretic and a bastard, and inviting henry ii. of france to undertake its execution. the emperor would never permit such a bull if elizabeth could show reasonable pretext that she and her kingdom held by the lutheran type of protestantism. an excommunication pronounced in such a case would have invalidated his own position, which he owed to the votes of lutheran electors. in the middle of the sixteenth century the difference between the different sections of christianity was always estimated in the _popular_ mind by differences in public worship, and especially in the celebration of the lord's supper. all over germany the protestant was distinguished from the romanist by the fact that he partook of the communion in both "kinds." elizabeth had definitely ranged herself on the protestant side from easter day ; and a more or less ornate ritual could never explain away the significance of this fact. the great difference between the lutherans and the calvinists to the popular mind was that the former retained and the latter discarded most of the old ceremonial. luther says expressly: "da lassen wyr die messgewand, altar, liechter noch bleyben" (daniel, _codex liturgicus ecclesiæ, lutheranæ_, p. ); and crosses, vestments, lights, and an altar appear in regular lutheran fashion whenever the queen wished to place herself and her land under the shield of the augsburg peace. this rubric was a remarkably good card to play in the diplomatic game.] [footnote : _xxxth injunction of :_ "item, her majesty being desirous to have the prelacy and clergy of this realm to be had as well in outward reverence, as otherwise regarded for the worthiness of their ministries, and thinking it necessary to have them known to the people in all places and assemblies, _both in the church_ and without, and thereby to receive the honour and estimation due to the special messengers and ministers of almighty god, wills and commands that all archbishops and bishops, and all other that be called or admitted to preaching or ministry of the sacraments, or that be admitted into any vocation ecclesiastical, or into any society of learning in either of the universities or elsewhere, shall use and wear such seemly habits, garments, and such square caps as were most commonly and orderly received _in the latter year of the reign of king edward vi._; not meaning thereby to attribute any holiness or special worthiness to the said garments, but as st. paul writeth: '_omnia decenter et secundum ordinem fiant_' ( cor. xiv. cap.)." cf. gee's _elizabethan prayer booke and ornaments_ (london, ); tomlinson, _the prayer book, articles and homilies_ (london, ); parker, _the ornaments rubric_ (oxford, ).] [footnote : the _advertisements_ are printed in gee and hardy; _documents_, etc. p. ; the _injunctions_, at p. .] [footnote : _copes_ were used in the cathedrals and sometimes in collegiate churches in the years between and , when it was desired to add some magnificence to the service; but it ought to be remembered that the _cope_ was never a sacrificial vestment. it was originally the _cappa_ of the earlier middle ages--the mediæval greatcoat. large churches were cold places, the clergy naturally wore their greatcoats when officiating, and the homely garment grew in magnificence. it never had a doctrinal significance like the _chasuble_ or _casula_.] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, spanish, - _, p. .] [footnote : machyn's _diary_ (camden society, london, ), p. .] [footnote : peacock's _church furniture_, p. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, spanish, - _, p. : "the crucifixes and vestments that were burnt a month ago publicly are now set up again in the royal chapel, as they soon will be all over the kingdom, unless, which god forbid, there is another change next week. they are doing it out of sheer fear to pacify the catholics; but as forced favours are no sign of affection, they often do more harm than good." cf. _zurich letters_, i. , etc.] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_, i. pp. , .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, edward vi., mary, elizabeth_, i. .] [footnote : the _injunctions_ are printed in gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reigns of edward vi., mary, and elizabeth_, i. pp. , , .] [footnote : for the history of these articles, see hardwick, _a history of the articles of religion; to which is added a series of documents from a.d. to a.d. _, etc. (cambridge, ).] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_, i. .] [footnote : the _consensus tigurinus_ ( ) dates the disappearance.] [footnote : the _zurich letters, - , first series_ (parker society, cambridge, ), pp. , , , , . bishop jewel, writing to peter martyr (p. ), says: "_as to matters of doctrine, we have pared everything away to the very quick, and do not differ from your doctrine by a nail's breadth_" (feb. th, ); and bishop horn, writing to bullinger (dec. th, , _i.e._ _after_ the queen's alterations), says,: "_we have throughout england the same ecclesiastical doctrine as yourselves_" (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : the deleted clause was: "_christus in coelum ascendens, corpori suo immortalitatem dedit, naturam non abstulit, humanæ enim naturæ veritatem (juxta scripturas), perpetuo retinet, quam uno et definito loco esse, et non in multa, vel omnia simul loca diffundi oportet. quum igitur christus in coelum sublatus, ibi usque ad finem seculi permansurus, atque inde, non aliunde (ut loquitur augustinus) venturus sit, ad judicandum vivos et mortos, non debet quisquam fidelium, et carnis eius, et sanguinis, realem et corporealem (ut loquuntur) presentiam in eucharistia vel credere, vel profiteri._"] [footnote : "cette reine est extremement sage, et a des yeux terribles." _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reign of elizabeth, - _, p. xxi.] [footnote : _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_, i. , .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, venetian, - _, p. .] [footnote : the _zurich letters_, etc., first series, p. .] [footnote : the _zurich letters_, etc., first series, p. ; cf. , , , , , , , . bishop jewel called clerical dress the "relics of the amorites" (p. ), and wished that he could get rid of the surplice (p. ); and "the little silver cross" in the queen's chapel was to him an ill-omened thing (p. ); cf. strype, _annals_, etc. i. i. .] [footnote : _annals_, etc. i. ii. .] [footnote : the _advertisements_ of archbishop parker, issued and enforced on the authority of the primate, to which the royal imprimatur was more than once refused, may be looked on as an exception. for these rules, meant to control the church in the vestiarian controversy, see gee and hardy, _documents_, etc. p. ; and for the vexed question of their authority, moore, _history of the reformation_, p. .] [footnote : maitland, _cambridge modern history_, ii. ff.] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series, of the reigns of edward vi., mary, and elizabeth, - _, p. .] [footnote : _calendar of state papers, domestic series_, etc. p. .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. ; _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_, i. , , .] [footnote : the story of francis yaxley, mary's agent, of his dealings with philip ii., of philip's subsidy to scotland of , crowns, of its loss by shipwreck, and how the money was claimed as treasure-trove by the duke of northumberland, roman catholic and a pledged supporter of mary as he was, may be traced in the _calendar of letters and state papers relating to english affairs, preserved principally in the archives of simancas_, pp. lix, , , , , , ; and how the pope also gave aid in money, p. .] [footnote : for example, the _nikolsburger articles_ say: "cristus sei in der erbsunden entphangen; cristus sei nit got sunder ein prophet, dem das gesprech oder wort gottes bevollen worden" (cornelius, _geschichte des münsterischen aufruhrs_, ii. , ).] [footnote : servede was born in , in the small town of tudela, which then belonged to aragon. he came from an ancient family of jurists, and was at first destined to the profession of law. his family came originally from the township of villanova, which probably accounts for the fact that servede sometimes assumed that name. he was in correspondence with oecolampadius (heusgen) in ; and from the former's letters to and about servede, it is evident that the young spaniard was then fully persuaded about his anti-trinitarian opinions. no publisher in basel would print his book, and he travelled to strassburg. when his first theological book became known, its sale was generally interdicted by the secular authorities. his great book, which contains his whole theological thinking, was published in without name of place or author. its full title is: _christianismi restitutio, totius ecclesiæ apostolicæ ad sua limina vocatio, in integrum restituta cognitione dei, fidei christi, justificationis nostræ, regenerationis baptisimi et coenæ domini manducationis, restituto denique nobis regno coelesti, babylonis impiæ captivitate soluta, et antichristo cum suis penitus destructo._ he entered into correspondence with calvin, offered to come to geneva to explain his position; but the reformer plainly indicated that he had no time to bestow upon him. the account of his trial, condemnation, and burning at geneva is to be found in the _corpus reformatorum_, xxxvi. _ff._ the sentence is found on p. : "icy est este parle du proces de michiel servet prisonnier et veu le sommairre dycelluy, le raport de ceux esquelz lon a consulte et considere les grands erreurs et blaffemes--est este arreste il soit condampne a estre mene en champel et la estre brusle tout vyfz et soit exequente a demain et ses livres brusles." this trial and execution is the one black blot on the character of calvin. he was by no means omnipotent in geneva at the time; but he thoroughly approved of what was done, and had expressed the opinion that if servede came to geneva, he would not leave it alive. "nam si venerit modo valeat mea auctoritas, virum exire nunquam patiar" (_corpus ref._ xi. ).] [footnote : ritschl, _a critical history of the christian doctrine of justification and reconciliation_ (eng. trans., edin. ), p. .] [footnote : "circa annum instituerat (lælius socinus) cum sociis suis iisdem italis, quorum numerus quadragenarium excedebat, in veneta ditione (apud vincentiam) collegia colloquiaque de religione, in quibus potissimum dogmata vulgaria de trinitate ac christi satisfactione hisque similia in dubium revocabant" (_bibl. antit._ p. --i have taken the quotation from fock, _der socinianismus nach seiner stellung in der gesammtentwickelung des christlichen geistes_, etc., kiel, , i. ).] [footnote : sources: _magna bibliotheca veterum patrum_ (coloniæ agrippinæ, ), xiii. - ; sebastian franck, _chronica, zeitbuch und geschichtbibel_ (augsburg, ), pt. iii.; hans denck, _von der waren lieb_, etc. ( --republished by the _menonitische verlagsbuchhandlung_, elkhart, indiana, u.s.a.); bouterwek, _zur literatur und geschichte der wiedertäufer_ (bonn, --gives extracts from the rarer anabaptist writings such as the works of hübmaier); _ausbund etlicher schöner christlicher geseng_, etc. ( ); liliencron, "zur liederdichtung der wiedertäufer" (in the _abhandlungen der könig. bair. akad. der wissenschaften philosophische klasse_, ); von zezschwitz, _die katechismen der waldenser und bömischen bruder_ (erlangen, ); beck, _geschichts-bücher der wiedertäufer in Österreich-ungarn, bis _ (vienna, ), printed in the _fontes rer. austr. diplom. et acta_, xliii.; kessler, _sabbata_, ed. by egli and schoch (st. gall, ); bullinger, _der wiedertäuferen ursprung, secten,_ etc. (zurich, ); egli, _actensammlung zur geschichte der züricher reformation_ (zurich, ), _die züricher wiedertäufer_ (zurich, ); leopold dickius, _adversus impios anabaptistarum errores_ ( ); cornelius, _berichte der augenzeugen über das münsterische wiedertäuferreich_, forming the nd vol. of the _geschichtsquellen des bisthums münster_ (münster, ) and the beilage in his _geschichte des münsterischen aufruhrs_ (leipzig, ); detmer's edition of kerssenbroch, _anabaptistici furoris monasterium inclitam westphaliæ metropolim evertentis historica, narratio_, forming vols. v. and vi. of the _geschichtsquellen des bisthums münster_ (münster, , ); _chroniken der deutschen städte, nürnberg chronik_, vols. i. and iv. later books: keller, _geschichte der wiedertäufer und ihres reichs zu münster_ (münster, ), _ein apostel der wiedertäufer; hans denck_ (leipzig, ), and _die reformation und die älteren reformparteien_ (leipzig, --keller is apt to make inferences beyond his facts); heath, _anabaptism, from its rise at zwickau to its fall at münster, - _ (london, ); belfort bax, _rise and fall of the anabaptists_ (london, ); rörich, "die gottesfreunde und die winkeler am oberrhein" (in _zeitschrift für hist. theol._ i. ff., ); _zur geschichte der strassburgischen wiedertäufer_ (_zeitschrift für hist. theol._ xxx. ); s. b. ten cate, _geschiedenis der doopgezinden in groningen_, etc., vols. (leeuwarden, ); _geschiedenis der doopgezinden in friesland_ (leeuwarden, ); _geschiedenis der doopgezinden in holland en guelderland_, vols. (amsterdam, ); tileman van braght, _het bloedig toenecl of martclaars spiegel der doopgesinde_ (amsterdam, ); e. b. underhill, _martyrology of the churches of christ commonly called baptist_ (translated from van braght); h. s. burrage, _a history of the anabaptists in switzerland_ (founded on egli's researches, philadelphia, ); newman, _a history of anti-pedobaptism_ (philadelphia, ); detmer, _bilder aus den religiösen und sozialen unruhen in münster während des jahrhunderts_: i. _johann von leiden_ (münster, ), ii. _bernhard rothmann_ ( ), iii. _ueber die auffassung von der ehe und die durchführung der vielweiberei in münster während der täuferherrschaft_ ( ); heath, _contemporary review_, lix. ("the anabaptists and their english descendants"), lxii. ("hans denck the baptist"), lxvii. (early anabaptism, what it meant, and what we owe to it), lxx. ("living in community--a sketch of moravian anabaptism"), ("the archetype of the _pilgrim's progress_"), lxxii. ("the archetype of the _holy war_").] [footnote : the difference in treatment may be seen at a glance by comparing the articles on anabaptism in the second ( ) and in the third ( ) edition of herzog's _realencyclopädie für protestantische theologie und kirche_. some eminent historians, however, still cling to old ideas; for example, edward armstrong, _the emperor charles v._ (london, ), who justifies the treatment his hero meted out to the anabaptists--roasting them to death before slow fires--by saying that "whenever they momentarily gained the upper hand, they applied the practical methods of modern anarchism or nihilism to the professed principles of communism" (ii. ). no one who has examined the original sources could have penned such a sentence.] [footnote : _magna bibliotheca veterum patrum_ (coloniæ agrippinæ, ), xiii. , , (the _summa_ of raiverus sacchonus). cf. i. .] [footnote : these are the dates at which town chronicles incidentally show that such communities existed, not the dates of their origin.] [footnote : vedder, _balthasar hübmaier_ (new york, ).] [footnote : liliencron, "zur liederdichtung der wiedertäufer," in the _transactions of the königl. bair. akad. der wissenschaften, philosophisch-historische klasse_, .] [footnote : _chronica_ (augsburg edition, ), f. .] [footnote : _der wiedertäuferen ursprung, furgang, secien_, etc. (zurich, ).] [footnote : _chronica_ ( pts., strassburg, ).] [footnote : _sabbata_ (ed. by egli and schoch, st. gall, ).] [footnote : c. a. cornelius, _geschichte des münsterischen aufruhrs_ (leipzig, ), ii. .] [footnote : _ibid._ ii. .] [footnote : _magna bibliotheca veterum patrum_ (coloniæ agrippinæ, ), rainerii socchoni, _summa_, c. vii.] [footnote : egli, _die züricher wiedertäufer_ (zurich, ), p. .] [footnote : folio ^b of the augsburg edition of .] [footnote : the swiss anabaptists have been selected because we have very full contemporary documentary evidence in their case. cf. egli, _actensammlung zur geschicht der züricher reformation_ (zurich, ); _die zuricher wiedertäufer_ (zurich, ); _die st. gallen wiedertäufer_ (zurich). the documentary evidence given in egli's works has been condensed and summarised by h. s. burrage, _a history of the anabaptists in switzerland_ (philadelphia, ).] [footnote : the scene is described in beck, _die geschichts-bücher der wiedertäufer in Österreich-ungarn von bis _ (vienna, ).] [footnote : the history of the persecution in the tyrol is to be found in j. loserth, _anabaptismus in tirol_; and in kirchmayr, _denkwürdigkeiten seiner zeit, - _, pt. i. in _fontes rerum austriacarum_, i. - .] [footnote : cornelius, _geschichte des münsterischen aufruhrs_ (leipzig, ), ii. .] [footnote : the disease was known as the english plague or the sweating sickness. it is thus described by hecker (_epidemics of the middle ages_, p. ): "it was violent inflammatory fever, which, after a short rigour, prostrated the powers as with a blow; and amidst painful oppression at the stomach, headache, and lethargic stupor, suffused the whole body with foetid perspiration. all this took place within the course of a few hours, and the crisis was always over within the space of a day and a night. the internal heat that the patient suffered was intolerable, yet every refrigerant was death."] [footnote : rothmann was born at stadtlohn, and received the rudiments of education in the village school there; a relation sent him to the gymnasium at münster; he studied afterwards at mainz, where he received the degree of m.a.; he was made chaplain in the st. maurice church at münster about .] [footnote : his confession of faith, published in latin and german in , shows this. i know it only by the summary in detmer (_bernhard rothmann_, münster, , pp. _f._). detmer says that he knows of only one printed copy, which is in the university library at münster.] [footnote : bernardin knipperdolling or knipperdollinck (both forms are found) was a wealthy cloth merchant, an able and fervent speaker, a man of strong convictions, who had early espoused the people's cause, and had become the trusted leader of the democracy of münster.] [footnote : the details of this disputation have been published by detmer in the _monatshefte der commenius-gesellschaft_ (berlin, ), ix. _ff._] [footnote : cf., above, ii. _ff._] [footnote : _meister heinrich gresbeck's bericht von der wiedertaufe in münster_, p. (edited by cornelius for _die geschichtsquellen des bisthums münster_, vol. ii., münster, ).] [footnote : cf. _die münsterische apologie_, printed by cornelius in his _berichte der augenzeugen über das münsterische wiedertäuferreich_, p. (_geschichtsquellen des bisthums münster_, vol. ii.).] [footnote : by far the best and most impartial discussion of the institution of polygamy in münster--one that is based on the very widest examination of contemporary documentary evidence--is that of dr. detmer, _ueber die auffassung von der ehe und die durchführung der vielweiberei in münster während der täuferherrschaft_ (münster, ). it forms the third of his _bilder aus den religiösen und sozialen unruhen in münster während des . jahrhunderts_.] [footnote : the tract is to be found in cornelius, _berichte der augenzeugen über das münsterische wiedertäuferreich_, which forms the second volume of _die geschichtsquellen des bisthums münster_ (pp. _ff._).] [footnote : "die ehe, sagen wir und halten mit der schrift, das sie ist eins mans und weips vorgaderong und vorpflichtong in dem herrn ... got hot den menchen von anfanck geschaffen, ein man und weip hat er sie geschaffen, di peide in den heiligen estant (ehestat) voreiniget, dos di peide zwo sellen und ein fleische solen sein. und mage also kein mensche scheiden selche voreinigong" (pp. , ).] [footnote : the _restitution_, written by rothmann and kloprys in conjunction with jan of leyden and the elders, is published in bouterwek, _literatur und geschichte der wiedertäufer_; marriage and polygamy are treated in sections - .] [footnote : jan bockelson, commonly called jan van leyden, was the illegitimate son of a village magistrate, and was born near leyden in . after a brief time of education at a village school he was apprenticed to a tailor, and in his leisure hours diligently educated himself. he travelled more widely than artisans usually did during their year of wandering--visiting england as well as most parts of flanders. on his return home he married the widow of a shipmaster, and started business as a merchant. he was a prominent member of the literary "gilds" of his town, and had a local fame as a poet and an actor. his conversion through jan matthys changed his whole life; there is not the slightest reason to suppose that he was not an earnest and honest adherent of the anabaptist doctrines as taught by matthys. he is described as strikingly handsome, with a fine sonorous voice. he had remarkable powers of organisation. his whole brief life reveals him to be a very remarkable man. he was barely twenty-five when he was tortured to death by the bishop of münster after the capture of the town.] [footnote : sources: _bibliotheca fratrum polonorum_ (amsterdam, ) i. ii. _racovian catechism_ (london, ). later books: fock, _der socinianismus nach seiner stellung in der gesammtentwickelung des christlichen geistes, nach seinem historischen verlauf und nach seinem lehrbegriff dargestellt_ (kiel, ); a. ritschl, _jahrbücher f. deutsche theologie_, xiii. _ff._, _ff._; _a critical history of the christian doctrine of justification and reconciliation_ (edinburgh, ); dilthey, _archiv f. geschichte d. philos._ vi.; harnack, _history of dogma_, vii. _ff._ (london, ).] [footnote : pp. _ff._] [footnote : cf. i. _ff._] [footnote : harnack, _history of dogma_, vii. .] [footnote : cf. p. .] [footnote : cf. i. .] [footnote : erasmus, _opera omnia_, iv. .] [footnote : a very full analysis of the contents of the racovian catechism is given in harnack's _history of dogma_, vii. ff., also in fock, _der socinianismus_, etc. ii. a. ritschl has shown that the unitarianism of the socinians is simply the legitimate conclusion from their theory of the nature of god and of the work of christ, in his two essays in the _jahrbücher f. deutsche theol._ xiii, ff., ff.] [footnote : sources: laemmer, _monumenta vaticana historiam ecclesiasticam seculi illustrantia_ (freiburg i. b. ); weiss, _papiers d'État du cardinal perronet de granvelle_ (in the _collection des documents inédits de l'histoire de france, - )_; fiedler, _relationen venetianischer botschaften über deutschland und oesterreich im ten jahrhunderte_ (in the _fontes rerum austriacarum, diplomatica et acta_, xxx., vienna, ); friedenburg, _nuntiaturberichte aus deutschland, - _ (gotha, - ); _carteggio di vittoria colonna_ (rome, ). later books: maurenbrecher, _geschichte der katholischen reformation_ (nördlingen, --only one volume published, which ends with ); also _karl v. und die deutschen protestanten_ (düsseldorf, ); ranke, _die römischen päpste, ihre kirche und ihr staat im sechszehnten und siebzehenten jahrhundert_; gothein, _ignatius von loyola und die gegenreformation_ (halle, ); philippson, _la contre-revolution religieuse du e siècle_ (brussels, ); ward, _the counter-reformation_ (london, ); dupin, _histoire de l'Église du e siècle_ (paris, - ); jerrold, _vittoria colonna_ (london, ).] [footnote : cf. _a relation ... of the island of england ... about the year _ (camden society, london, ), pp. - , - .] [footnote : cf. i. .] [footnote : this had been protested against for a century and a half, not merely by individual moralists, but by such conventions of notables as the english parliament; cf. _rolls of parliament_, ii. - ; _item_, "prie la communeque comme autre foithz au parlement tenuz a wyncestre, supplie y fuist par la commune de remedie de ce que les prelatz et ordinares de seint esglise pristrent sommes pecuniers de gentz de seint esglise et autres pur redemption de lour pecche de jour en jour, et an en an, de ce que ils tiendrent overtement lours concubines; et pur autres pecches et offenses a eux surmys, dount peyne pecunier ne serroit pris de droit: quele chose est cause, meintenance et norisement de lour pecche, en overte desclandre, et mal ensample de tut la commune; quele chose issint continue nient duement puny, est desesploit an roi et a tout le roialme. qe pleise a nostre seigneur le roi ent ordeiner que touz tiels redemptions soient de tut ousteiz; et que si nul viegne encontre ceste ordeinance, que le prenour encourge la somme del double issint pris devers la roi et cely que le paie eit mesme la peyne."] [footnote : cf. i. , .] [footnote : cf. vol. i. , , ; vol. ii.] [footnote : _letters and papers, foreign and domestic, of the reign of henry viii._, iv., preface, p. . cf. brown, _fasciculus rerum expectendarum et fugiendarum_ ( ), pp. , , for the speech of an english bishop at rome (nov. th, ), saying that if the curia does not speedily undertake the work of reformation, the secular powers must interfere.] [footnote : lea, _chapters from the religious history of spain_ (philadelphia, ); prescott, _ferdinand and isabella_ (london, ); v. de la fuente, _historia eclesiastica en espana_ (madrid, , etc.); menendezy palayo, _los heterodoxos espanoles_ (madrid, ); hefele, _the cardinal ximenes_ (london, ); paul rousselot, _les mystiques espagnols_ (paris, ).] [footnote : cf. paper read by charles v. to the estates of germany at worms--wrede, _deutsche reichstagsakten unter kaiser karl v._ (gotha, ) ii. .] [footnote : "is cæsaris consanguineus, legatus missus a wormacia, festinando ad hispanos pro sedando quodam tumultu. is in profesto vigiliæ natalicii dominici superveniens eques, cum ministris, biduo manens integro et tribus noctibus, mihi multum loquebatur de causa lutherana, quæ magna ex parte arridebat viro bono et docto, præter librum _de captivitate babel_, quem legerat wormatiæ cum moerore et displicentia, quem ego nondum videram." riggenbach, _das chronikon des konrad pellikan_, p. (basel, ).] [footnote : carvajal's speech and egidio's memoir are given in höfler, "analecten z. geschich. deutschlands und italiens" (_abhandlungen der münch. akad._ iv. iii. - ).] [footnote : an _indult_ can be best explained by an example: according to the council of bourges ( ), the selection of french bishops was left exclusively in the hands of the chapters of the cathedrals; but pope eugenius iv. permitted charles vii. the right to appoint to several specified bishoprics; such a papal grant was called an _indult_.] [footnote : cf. vol. i. _f._] [footnote : sources: contarini, _opera_ (paris, ); _correspondenz contarinis_, ed. by l. pastor ( ); cortese, _epistolarum familiarum liber_ (venice, ); ghiberti, _opera_ (verona, ); sadoleto, _epistolarum libri sexdecim_ (lyons, ); pole, _epistolæ, et aliorum ad ipsum_ (brescia, - ), _carteggio di vittoria colonna_ (turin, ); vergerio, _briefwechsel_ (edited for the _bibliothek des literarischen vercius_, stuttgart, ). later books: jacob burckhardt, _the civilisation of the period of the renaissance_ (eng. trans., london, ); symonds, _renaissance in italy. the catholic reaction_ (london, ); cantù, _gli eretici d'italia_ (turin, - ); braun, _cardinal gasparo contarini_ ( ); dittrich, _gasparo contarini_ (braunsberg, ); duruy, _le cardinal carlo caruffa_ (paris, ); gothein, _ignatius loyola und die geyenreformation_, pp. - (halle, ); v. reumont, _vittoria colonna_ (freiburg i. b. ).] [footnote : mediæval songs tell us that this hatred of the peasantry is much older than the renaissance: "si quis scire vult naturam, maledictam et obscuram rusticorum genituram infelicem et non puram denotent sequentia," etc. _carmina medii Æri_ (florence, ), p. ; the song belongs to the thirteenth century.] [footnote : herminjard, _correspondance_, etc. viii. .] [footnote : the name went beyond the original foundation. the jesuits were sometimes called _theatines_ both in spain and in france.] [footnote : they are to be found in _bibliotheca maxima pontificia_ (rome, ), pp. _ff._ the contents of the second letter are condensed in the phrase which occurs near the end: "in legibus voluntas non debet regula esse" (p. ). the first letter urges the pope to make an end of the scandals caused by the sale of dispensations: "dispensator non potest vendere id quod non suum est sed domini. neque etiam potest transgredi in dispensatione mandatum domini.... expresse christus in evangelio præcipit: gratis accepistis, gratis date" (p. ). it closes with an urgent appeal: "pater sanctissime ingressus es viam christi, audacter age.... dens onmipotens diriget gressus tuos, et tuorum omnium. familiæ tuæ protector crit, et super omnia bona sua constituet te, ut ipse in evangelio pollicetur servo fideli, quem constituit super familiam suam. dominus diu nobis servet sanctitatem tuam incolumem."] [footnote : kawerau, _johann agricola_ ( ), p. .] [footnote : the regensburg article said: _creata libertas per hominis lapsum est amissa_; the decree of trent declared: _si quis liberum hominis arbitrium post adæ peccatum amissum et extinctum esse dixerit, anathema sit_ (denzinger, _enchiridion symbolorum et definitionum_, etc., th ed. p. ).] [footnote : the regensburg article says: _etsi post laptismiun negare remanens materiale peccatum_, etc., the second heresy of luther condemned in the bull is: _in puero post baptismum negare remanens peccatum, est paulum et christum simul conculcare_ (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : calvin, who was present at the conference, sums up the results so far in a letter to farel as follows: _delecti nostri de peccato originali non difficulter transegerunt: sequuta est disputatio de libero arbitrio, quæ ex augustini sententia composita fuit: nihil in utroque nobis decessit. de justifcatione acriores fuerunt contentiones. tandem conscripta est formula, quam adhibitis certis correctionibus utrinque receperunt. miraberis, scio, adversarios tantum concessisse, quum legeris exemplar, ita ut postrema manu correctum fuit, quod literis inclusum reperies. retinuerunt enim nostri doctrinæ veræ summam: ut nihil illic comprehensum sit, quod non exstet in scriptis nostris: scio, desiderabis clariorem explicationem, et in ca re me tibi assentientem habebis. verum, si reputes quibuscum hominibus negotium nobis sit, agnosces multum esse effectum_ (_corpus reformatorum_, xxxix. ). calvin had been somewhat suspicious of contarini at the outset: _contarenus sine sanguine subigere nos cupit; proiude tentat omnes vias confieiendi ex sua utilitate negotii citra arma_ (_ibid._ xxxix. ).] [footnote : in the dedication of the fourth portion of melanchthon's works to joachim ii. of brandenburg, the editor pencer says: _granvellus ... eccium, cum descriptæ formulæ testimonium chirographi addendum esset, tergiversantem et astute renuentem facere id coegit._ eck with his great coarse body, his loud harsh voice, his bullying habits, and his insincerity, was universally disliked; _ista a bestia, gehobelter eck_, he had been nicknamed by pirkheimer of nürnberg.] [footnote : _epistolarum reginaldi poli, s. r. e. cardinalis_ (brixiae, - ), iii. - .] [footnote : calvin says: _ventum est deinde ad ecclesium: in definitione congruebant sententiæ: in potestate dissidere coeperunt. quum nullo modo possent conciliari, visum est articulum illum omittere._] [footnote : _nunquam legatum assensurum, ut conspicua fidei decreta tot sæculis culta in dubium adducerentur._] [footnote : the proceedings of the conference are given in full in the _acta ratisbonensia_. by far the most succinct account is to be found in calvin's letter to farel of date th may . he says of the discussion about the sacraments: _in sacramentis rixati sunt nonnihil: sed quum nostri suas illis cæremonias, ut res medias, permitterent, usque ad cænam progressi sunt. illic fuit insuperabilis scopulus. repudiata transubstantiatio, repositio, circumgestatio, et reliqui superstitiosi cultus. hæc adversariis nequaquam tolerabilia. collega meus (bucer), qui totus ardet studio concordiæ, fremere et indignari, quod intempestive fuissent motæ eiusmodi quæstiones, philippus (melanchthon) in adversam partem magis tendere, ut rebus exulceratis omnem pacificationis spem præcideret. nostri habita consultatione, nos convocarunt. jussi sumus omnes ordine dicere sententias: fuit una omnium vox, transubstantiationem rem esse fictitiam, repositionem superstitiosam, idololatricam esse adorationem, vel saltem periculosam, quum fiat sine verbo dei. me quoque exponere latine oportuit quid sentirem. tametsi neminem ex aliis intellexeram_ (because they spoke in german), _libere tamen sine timore offensionis, illam localem præsentiam damnari: adorationem asserui mihi esse intolerabilem. crede mihi, in eiusmodi actionibus opus est fortibus animis, qui alios confirment.... scriptum deinde a philippo compositum, quod ubi granvellano oblatum est, asperis verbis repudiavit, quod illi tres delecti ad nos retulissent. hæc quum fiant in ipso limine, cogita quantum adhuc supersit difficultatis, in missa privata, sacrificio, in communicatione calicis. quid si ad apertam præsentiæ confessionem veniretur? quanti tumultus effervescerent?_ (_corpus reformatorum_, xxxix. , )] [footnote : sources: _monumenta historica societatis jesu, nunc primum edita a patribus ejusdem societatis_ (madrid, , etc.); _cartas de san ignacio de loyola, fundador de la compañía de jesús_ (madrid, , etc.); g. p maffei, _de vita et moribus ignatii loyolæ, qui societatem jesu fundavit_ (cologne, ); ribadeneyra, _vida del p. ignacio de loyola_ (madrid, ); orlandino, _historia societatis jesu, pars prima sive ignatius_, etc. (rome, ); braunsberger, _petri canisii epistolæ et acta_ (freiburg i. b. ); _decreta, etc., societatis jesu_ (avignon, ); _constitutiones societatis jesu_ (rome, ). later books: huber, _der jesuit-orden nach seiner verfassung und doctrin, wirksamkeit und geschichte characterisirt_ (berlin, ); gothein, _ignatius von loyola und die gegenreformation_ (halle, ); symonds, _renaissance in italy, the catholic reaction_ (london, ); cretinau-joly, _histoire religieuse politique et littéraire de la compagnie de jésus_ (paris, - ); maurice martel, _ignace de loyola, essai de psychologie religieuse_ (paris).] [footnote : "the residence of ignatius loyola in the college of ste. barbe is connected with au incident which is at once illustrative of his own spirit and of the manners of the time. he had come to paris for the purpose of study; but he could not resist the temptation to make converts to his great mission. among these converts was a spaniard named amador, a promising student in philosophy in ste. barbe. this amador, loyola had transformed from a diligent student into a visionary as wild as himself, to the intense indignation of the university, and especially of his own countrymen. about the same time loyola craved permission to attend ste. barbe as a student of philosophy. he was admitted on the express condition that he should make no attempt on the consciences of his fellows. loyola kept his word as far as amador was concerned, but he could not resist the temptation to communicate his visions to others. the regent thrice warned him of what would be the result, and at length made his complaint to the principal (jacques de gouvéa). gouvéa was furious, and gave orders that next day loyola should be subjected to the most disgraceful punishment the college could inflict. this running of the gauntlet, known as _la salle_, was administered in the following manner. after dinner, when all the scholars were present, the masters, each with his ferule in his hand, ranged themselves in a double row. the delinquent, stripped to the waist, was then made to pass between them, receiving a blow across the shoulders from each. this was the ignominious punishment to which loyola, then in his fortieth year, as a member of the college, was bound to submit. the tidings of what was in store for him reached his ears, and in a private interview he contrived to turn away gouvéa's wrath.... this was in , the year of buchanan's entrance into ste, barbe" (p. hume brown, _george buchanan, humanist and reformer_, edinburgh, , pp. _f._).] [footnote : _bulletin de la société de l'histoire de protestantisme français_, xii. .] [footnote : one of loyola's earliest biographers, ribadeneyra, dwells on the eagerness with which ignatius welcomed the slightest details of the life of his disciples in the indies, and how he one day said: "i would assuredly like to know, if it were possible, how many fleas bit them each night."] [footnote : loyola had long abandoned the vow of poverty; his faithful disciples, the circle of barcelona ladies, sent him supplies of money, and e received sums from spanish merchants in france and the low countries.] [footnote : the _exercitia spiritualia s. p. ignatii loyola, fundatoris ordinis societatis jesu_, and their indispensable companion the _directorium in exercitia spiritualia b. p. n. ignatii_, are to be found in vol. iv. of the _insti. soc. jesu_. the editions used here are, of the _exercises_, that of antwerp, , and of the _directory_, that of rome, .] [footnote : a careful study of the _exercises_, of the _directory_, of loyola's correspondence, and of his sayings recorded by early and contemporary biographers, has convinced me that the book was mainly constructed out of the abundant notes which loyola took of his own inward experiences at manresa, and that the only book he used in compiling it was the _de imitatione christi_ of thomas à kempis--a book which ignatius believed to have been written by gerson. we know otherwise how highly ignatius prized the _de imitatione_. when he visited the abbey of monte cassino he took with him as many copies as there were monks in the monastery; it was the one volume which he kept on the small table at his bedside; and it was the only book which the neophyte was permitted to read during the first week of the _exercises_: "si tamen instructori videbitur, posset in prima hebdomada legere librum gersonis de imitatione christi" (_directory_, iii. ).] [footnote : cf. _directory_, i. ii. v.] [footnote : it is explained that by "week" is meant not a space of time, seven days, but a distinct subject of meditation. the drill may be finished within seven or eight days; it may have to be prolonged beyond the twenty-five. the first meditation is the basis of all, and it may have to be repeated over and over again until the soul is sufficiently bruised (_directory_, xi. l).] [footnote : "prima continet considerationem peccatorum, ut eorum foeditatem cognoscamus, vereque detestemur cum dolore, et satisfactione convenienti. secunda propcnit vitam christi ad excitandum in nobis desiderium ac studium eam imitandi. quam imitationem ut melius perficiamus, proponitur etiam modus eligendi vel vitæ statum, qui sit maxime ex voluntate dei; vel si jam eligi non possit, dantur quædam monita ad eum in quo quisque sit, reformandum. tertia continet passionem christi, qua miseratio, dolor, confusio generatur, et illud imitationis desiderium una cum dei amore vehementius inflammatur. quarta demum est de resurrectione christi, ejusque gloriosis apparitionibus, et de beneficiis, et similibus, quæ pertinent ad dei amorem in nobis excitandum" (_directory_, xi. ).] [footnote : "punctum primum est, spectare per imaginationem vasta inferorum incendia, et animas igneis quibusdam corporibus, velut ergastulis inclusas. secundum, audire imaginarie, planctus, ejulatus, vociferationes, atque blasphemias in christum et sanctos ejus illinc erumpentes. tertium, imaginario etiam olfactu fumum, sulphur, et sentinae cujusdam seu faecis atque putredinis graveolentiam persentire. quartum, gustare similiter res amarissimas, ut lachrymas, rancorem, conscientiaeque vermem. quintum, tangere quodammodo ignes illos, quorum tactu animae ipsae amburuntur" (_exercitia spiritualia, quintum exercitium_ (pp. , in antwerp edition of )).] [footnote : _exercitia, tertia hebdomada_, ii. _contemplatio_ (p. ).] [footnote : _exercitia, tertia hebdomada_, ii. _contemplatio_, pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid._ p. .] [footnote : j. a. symonds, _the renaissance in italy, the catholic reaction_, i. .] [footnote : these and other declarations of a like kind are to be found in the last chapter of the _exercitia spiritualia_, entitled _regulæ aliquot servandæ ut cum orthodoxa ecclesia vere sentiamus_.] [footnote : _ibid._ "si quid, quod oculis nostris apparet album, nigrum illa (ecclesia catholica) esse definierit, debemus itidem, quod nigrum sit, pronuntiare" (_regula_, , p. ).] [footnote : _cartas de san ignacio de loyola, fundador de la compañía de jesús_ (madrid, , etc.), no. .] [footnote : ignatius was fond of recalling these accusations and acquittals. in a celebrated letter to the king of portugal he said that he had been eight times accused of heresy and as often acquitted, and that these accusations had really arisen, not from any associations he had ever had with schismatics, lutherans, or _alumbrados_ (heretical mystics), but from the astonishment caused by the fact that he, an unlearned man, should presume to speak about things divine (_cartas de san ignacio_, etc., no. ).] [footnote : at the time of ignatius' death ( ), "the professed of the four vows," who were the society in the strictest sense, and who alone had any share in its government, numbered only thirty-five.] [footnote : the society came to consist of ( ) _novices_ who had been carefully selected (_a_) for the priesthood, or (_b_) for secular work, or (_c_) whose special vocation was yet undetermined--the _indifferents_; ( ) the _scholastics_, who had passed through a noviciate of two years, and who had to spend five years in study, then five years as teachers of junior classes; ( ) _coadjutors_, spiritual or temporal--the one set sharing in all the missionary work of the society, preaching or teaching, the other in the corresponding temporal duties; ( ) _the professed of the four vows_, who were the élite of the society, and who alone had a share in its government. heads of colleges and residences were taken from the third class.] [footnote : this diary was used by yigilio nolarci in his _compendio della vita di s. ignatio di loiola_ (venice, nd ed., ), pp. - .] [footnote : symonds, _the renaissance in italy, the catholic reaction_ (london, ), i. , .] [footnote : cf. vol. i. p. .] [footnote : many of loyola's letters are addressed to these ladies: _cartas_, i. pp. , , , to inés pascual; pp. , , , , to isabella roser; pp. , , , to teresa rejadella de st. clara, a nun.] [footnote : cf. _cartas_, i. pp. , , .] [footnote : sources: _the canons and decrees of the council of trent_ (london, ); theiner, _acta genuina concilii tridentini_ ( ); dollinger, _ungedruckte berichte und tagebücher zur geschichte des concils von trient_ (nördlingen, ); grisar, _iacobi lainez disputationes tridentinæ_ (innsbruck, ); le plat, _monumentorum ad historiam concilii tridentini potissimum illustrandum spectantium amplissima collectio_ (louvain, - ), paleotto, _acta concilii tridentini, - _; planck, _anecdota ad historiam concilii tridentini pertinentia_ (göttingen, - ); sickel, "das reformations-libell ferdinands i." (in _archiv für österreichische geschichte_, xiv., vienna, ), _catechismus romanus_ (paris, ); denzinger, _enchiridion_ (würzburg, ). later books: maurenbrecher, "tridentiner concil, vorspiel und einleitung" (in the _historisches taschenbuch_, sechste folge, , pp. - ), "begrundung der katholischen glaubenslehre" (in the _hist. tasch._ , pp. - ), and "die lehre von der erbsunde und der rechtfertigung" (in the _hist. tasch._ , pp. - ); harnack, _history of dogma_, vii. (london, ); loofs, _leitfaden zum studium der dogmengeschichte_ (halle, ); r. c. jenkins, _pre-tridentine doctrine_ (london, ); froude, _lectures on the council of trent_ (london, ); sickel, _zur geschichte des concils von trient_ (vienna, ), and _die geschäfts-ordnung des concils von trient_ (vienna, ); milledonne, _journal de concile de trente_ (paris, ); braunsberger _entstehung und erste entwicklung der katechismen des petrus canisius_ (freiburg i. b. ); dejob, _de l'influence du concile de trente_ (paris, ); paolo sarpi, _history of the council of trent_ (london, ); _lettere di fra paolo sarpi_ (florence, ).] [footnote : for an account of these negotiations, and for the false start made on nov. st, , see w. maurenbrecher, "tridentiner concil, vorspiel und einleitung," _historisches taschenbuch_, sechste folge, , pp. - ; also _cambridge modern history_, ii. _ff._ it seems to be pretty certain that the fear that the germans might hold a national council and the possibility that there might result a national german church independent of rome on the lines laid down by henry viii. of england, was the motive which finally compelled pope paul iii. to decide on summoning a general council; cf. i. pp. , .] [footnote : the church now contains a picture on the north wall of the choir of the group of theologians who were members of the council.] [footnote : the council sat at trent from the th dec. to the th march (sessions i.-viii.); at bologna from the st of april to the nd of june (sessions ix.-x.); at trent from the st of may to the th of april (session xi.-xvi.); and at trent from the th of jan. to the rd of dec. (sessions xvii.-xxv.).] [footnote : it was enough for him that the protestants held the twelve articles (the _apostles' creed_); cf. i. _n._; and ii. , .] [footnote : cf. i. .] [footnote : (theiner) _acta genuina ss. æcumenici concilii tridentini_, p. .] [footnote : loofs in his _leitfaden zum studium der dogmengeschichte_ (halle a. s. ) declares that the following tendencies within the roman catholic church of the sixteenth century have all to be taken into account as influencing the decisions come to at the council of trent: the reorganisation of the spanish church in strict mediæval spirit _by the crown_ under isabella and ferdinand; the revival of thomist theology, especially in the dominican order; the fostering of mystical piety, especially in new and in reconstructed orders; the ennobling of theology by humanism, and its influence, direct and indirect, in leading theologians back to augustine; the strengthening of the papacy in the rise of curialism; and, lastly, the ecclesiastical interests of temporal sovereigns generally opposed to this curialism. he declares that the newly-founded order of the jesuits served as a meeting-place for the first, third, fourth, and fifth of these tendencies (pp. - ).] [footnote : "nec non traditiones ipsas, tum ad fidem, tum ad mores pertinentes, tanquam vel oretenus a christo, vel a spiritu sancto dictatas, et continua successione in ecclesia catholica conservatas, _pari_ pietatis affectu ac reverentia suscipit et veneratur." the references to the decisions of trent have been taken from denzinger, _enchiridion symbolorum et definitionum quæ de rebus fidei et morum a conciliis oecumenicis et summis pontificibus emanarunt_ (würzburg, ), p. .] [footnote : "statuit et declarat, ut hæc ipsa vetus et vulgata editio, quæ longo tot sæculorum usu in ipsa ecclesia probata est, in publicis lectionibus, disputationibus, prædicationibus pro authentica habeatur; et ut nemo illam rejicere quovis prætextu audeat vel præsumat" (denzinger, _enchiridion_, etc. p. ).] [footnote : "nemo ... contra cum sensum, quem tenuit et tenet sancta mater ecclesia, cujus est judicare de vero sensu et interpretatione scripturarum sanctarum, autetiam contra unanimem consensum patrum, ipsam scripturam sacram interpretari audeat" (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : "non possum pati synodum pari pietatis affectu suscipere traditiones et libros sanctos: hoc enim, ut vere dicam quod seutio, _impium est_."] [footnote : "si quis non confitetur, primum hominem adam, cum mandatum dei in paradiso fuisset transgressus, statim sanctificationem et justitiam, in qua constitutus fuerat, amisisse.... anathema sit" (denzinger, _enchiridion_, etc. p. ).] [footnote : "tametsi in eis liberum arbitrium minime extinctum esset, viribus licet attenuatum et inclinatum"; in the first paragraph of the decree on justification (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : "declarat tamen hæc ipsa sancta synodus, non esse suæ intentionis comprehendere in hoc decreto, ubi de peccato originali agitur, beatam et immaculatam virginem mariam, dei genitricem; sed observandas constitutiones felicis recordationis sixti papæ iv. sub poenis in eis constitutionibus contentis, quas innovat" (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : cf. above, pp. , .] [footnote : _history of dogma_ (english translation), vii. .] [footnote : seripando was made a cardinal in by pope pius iv., who also sent him to the council of trent in that year as one of his legates.] [footnote : "cum omnes homines in prævaricatione adæ innocentiam perdi dissent facti immundi ... ut non modo gentes per vim naturæ, sed ne judæi quidem per ipsam etiam litteram legis moysi, inde liberari aut surgere possent" (denzinger, _enchiridion_, etc. ).] [footnote : "hunc proposuit deus propitiatorem _per fidem_ in sanguine ipsius pro peccatis nostris" (denzinger, _enchiridion_, etc. p. ).] [footnote : "ita nisi in christo renascerentur, nunquam justificarentur, cum ea renascentia per meritum passionis ejus gratia, qua justi fiunt, illis tribuatur; pro hoc beneficio apostolus gratias nos semper agere hortatur patri, qui dignos nos fecit in partem sortis sanctorum in lumine, et eripuit de potestate tenebrarum, transtulitque in regnum filii dilectionis suæ, in quo habemus redemptionem et remissionem peccatorum" (_ibid._ ).] [footnote : "translatio ab eo statu in quo homo nascitur ... in statum gratiæ et adoptionis filiorum dei per ... jesum christum, salvatorem nostrum; quæ quidem translatio post evangelium promulgatum sine lavacro regenerationis, aut ejus voto, fieri non potest" (_ibid._ p. ).] [footnote : "ut, qui per peccata a deo aversi erant, per ejus excitantem atque adjuvantem gratiam ad convertendum se ad suam ipsorum justificationem eidem gratiæ libere assentiendo et co-operando, disponantur ..."] [footnote : cf. i. _f._] [footnote : he classed cardinal pole among heretics; vittoria colonna became suspect because she was "tilia spiritualis et discipula cardinalis poli, hæretici"; and the nuns of st. catherine at viterbo were noted as "suspectæ" from their intimacy with vittoria (_carteggio di vittoria colonna_, pp. _ff._; turin, ).] [footnote : "symbolum fidei quo sancta _romana_ ecclesia utitur."] [footnote : "through the mercy of god and the provident care of _his own vicar upon earth_." session vi. de reform, c. .] [footnote : session xxv. de reform, c. .] [footnote : "we by apostolic authority forbid all persons ... that they presume without our authority to publish in any form any commentaries, glosses, annotations, scholia, or any kind of interpretation whatsoever touching the decrees of the said council; or to settle anything in regard thereof under any plea whatsoever.... but if anything therein shall seem to any one to have been expressed and ordained obscurely ... and to stand in need of interpretation or decision, let him go up to the place which the lord hath chosen, to wit, to the apostolic see, the mistress of all the faithful, whose authority the holy synod also has reverently acknowledged."] [footnote : llorente, _histoire critique de l'inquisition d'espagne_ (paris, ); lea, _a history of the inquisition of the middle ages_ (london, ); reusch, _der index der verbotener bücher_ (bonn, ); lea, _the spanish inquisition_ (london, ); symonds, _renaissance in italy, the catholic reaction_ (london, ).] [footnote : it is to be found in gudenus, _codex diplomaticus_, iv. .] [footnote : "wishing also to impose a restraint ... upon printers ... who print without licence of ecclesiastical superiors, the said books of sacred scripture, and the annotations and expositions upon them of all persons indifferently ... (this synod) ordains and decrees, that, henceforth, the sacred scripture, and especially the aforesaid old and vulgate edition, be printed in the most correct manner possible; and that it shall not be lawful for anyone to print, or cause to be printed, _any books whatever on sacred matters_, without the name of the author; nor to sell them in future or even to keep them by them, _unless they shall have been first examined and approved by the ordinary_; under pain of anathema and fine imposed in a canon of the last lateran council" (sess. iv.)] [footnote : the original index of pope paul iv. contained a list of no less than sixty-one _printers_, and prohibited the reading of _any book printed by them_. he afterwards withdrew this clause. but his index gives a long catalogue of authors _all_ of whose writings are prohibited. it is, with one distinguished exception, a mere list of names; but it contains: "desiderius erasmus roterodamus cum universis commentariis, annotationibus, scholiis, dialogis, epistolis, censuris, versionibus, libris et scriptis suis, etiam si nil penitus contra religionem vel de religione contineant."] [footnote : session xviii.--decree anent the choice of books; session xxv.--anent the index of books, the catechism, breviary, and missal.] [footnote : symonds, _the renaissance in italy: the catholic reaction_, i. .] transcriber's notes: in this version, underscores have been used to represent words in _italics_. greek words have been transliterated and enclosed in equal signs (=logikê latreia=). the caret character has been used to introduce superscripts, e.g. xvii^{th}. other minor changes are described below: -------+-------------------------------+------------------ page | originally | changed to -------+-------------------------------+------------------ vii |lemonier |lemonnier xii |freibourg |freiburg |ausburger |augsburger |landammann |landamann |vallingin |villingen |antoina |antonia n. |gestes marveilleux |gestes merveilleux |auto-da fés |auto-da-fés |cas communs |cas communes |d'hopital |de l'hôpital n. |geschiedeniss der doopgezinden |geschiedenis der doopsgezinden |daventer |deventer |daventer |deventer n. |philip |philippe |st. omer's |st. omer [inserted second footnote anchor] |prag |prague |hopless |hopeless |büchlin |büchlein |lichtenstein |liechtenstein n. |st. galler |st. gallen |ostreich-ungern |Österreich-ungarn |striken |stricken n. |marrenbrecher |maurenbrecher |taschensbuch |taschenbuch n. |denzigner |denzinger |crescenzio |crescentio |ausberger |augsburger |bekantones |bekentones |chatelet |châtelet n. |dilemburg |dillenburg |eidgenots |eidguenots |vallingen |villingen |meersberg |meersburg |l'ame |l'âme |gräbunden |graubünden |heidelburg |heidelberg |giorlamo |girolamo |meyer, johann |maier, johann (and moved respecting index alphabetical order) |willebrock |willebroek (https://archive.org/details/americana) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/germansocietyatc baxeiala transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). the social side of the reformation in germany german society at the close of the middle ages aberdeen university press. german society at the close of the middle ages by e. belfort bax author of "the story of the french revolution," "the religion of socialism," "the ethics of socialism," "handbook of the history of philosophy," etc., etc. [illustration: logo] london swan sonnenschein & co. contents. chapter page introduction, i. first signs of social and religious revolt, ii. the reformation movement, iii. literature of reformation period, iv. folklore of the reformation, v. the german town, vi. the revolt of the knighthood, vii. country and town at the end of the middle ages, viii. the new jurisprudence, appendix a, " b, " c, preface. the work, of which the present volume is the first instalment, aims at giving english readers a general view of the social condition and the popular movements of germany during the period known as that of the reformation. in accordance with this plan, i have only touched incidentally upon the theological disputes then apparently uppermost in the thoughts of men, or upon the purely political side of things. they are dealt with merely in so far as they immediately strike across the path of social and internal affairs. the present volume, which has a more general character than its successors, deals with a period limited, roughly speaking, by the closing years of the fifteenth century on the one side, and by , the year of the great peasant rising, on the other. it contains a narrative of the earlier popular revolutionary movements at the close of the middle ages, the precursors of the peasants' war; and it also deals with the underlying causes, economic, social and juridical, of the general disintegration of the time. the next volume will treat more in detail the events of the years to . the third will contain a history of the anabaptist movement in central europe from its rise at zwickau in to its decline after the capture of münster by the archiepiscopal and imperial troops in . the reign of the saints in münster naturally forms the leading feature of this portion of the work. as to the sources for the history of the germany of this period, i have endeavoured to incorporate everything available that seemed to me important for the proper understanding of the time. the three chief general histories of the reformation, ranke's _geschichte deutschlands während der reformations-zeit_, janssen's _geschichte des deutschen volkes_, and egelhaaf's _deutsche geschichte im sechszehnten jahrhundert_, have, it is scarcely necessary to say, been laid under contribution. the standpoint of ranke, whose history is detailed and in certain respects exhaustive, is that of general bourgeois philistinism. janssen represents the ultramontane catholic view; but, apart from its tendency, every one must admire the brilliant and in most cases accurate scholarship that characterises it. egelhaaf's work may be regarded as the counterblast to janssen's. its point of view is that of "liberal," middle-class german protestantism; but it also contains many hints and clues which may be followed up by the industrious historian. to rewrite history in the light of the researches of the later decades of the nineteenth century will be the great task of the next two or three generations. history has to be presented afresh on the basis of primitive communism with its tribal and village groups, with its sexual relations based on the _gens_, with its totemistic religious conceptions, and from the standpoint of a continuous development from these beginnings up to the individualism of the present day founded on the complete disruption of early society. the average student of any historical period invariably reads into his interpretation the intellectual, moral and social atmosphere that lies nearest to him. he cannot strip away the intervening time-content between himself and the period in question. it is the most difficult of all exercises of the imagination, and to most men, indeed, impossible, to realise that the same words, names, customs and institutions connote totally different actualities in different stages of historic evolution. people fail to conjure up the altered perspective, and the unfamiliar background on which men lived, thought and felt in another age. agamemnon, "king of men," is to them kaiser wilhelm differently made up. lykurgos is a cross between pitt and dr. johnson. cicero is a sir charles russell who happened to live in the first century b.c. the formal continuity of names, notions or things hides from them the "true inwardness" of the rupture between the old and the new which has gradually accomplished itself. change in human affairs is of course ceaseless; but it is only when it has reached a certain stage that it is borne in upon the consciousness of men in general, and, even then, it is only the sharp summits above the changing horizon that they recognise. the ground out of which these spring is not seen, and hence the true bearing of the summits themselves is not understood. social movements of the german reformation. introduction. the close of the fifteenth century had left the whole structure of mediæval europe to all appearance intact. statesmen and writers like philip de commines had apparently as little suspicion that the state of things they saw around them, in which they had grown up and of which they were representatives, was ever destined to pass away, as lord palmerston or any other statesman of the cobden-bright period had that the existing system of society, say in , was at any time likely to suffer other changes than those of detail. society was organised on the feudal hierarchy of status. in the first place, a noble class, spiritual and temporal, was opposed to a peasantry either wholly servile or but nominally free. in addition to this opposition of noble and peasant there was that of the township, which, in its corporate capacity, stood in the relation of lord to the surrounding peasantry. the township in germany was of two kinds--first of all, there was the township that was "free of the empire," that is, that held nominally from the emperor himself (_reichstadt_), and secondly, there was the township that was under the domination of an intermediate lord. the economic basis of the whole was still land; the status of a man or of a corporation was determined by the mode in which they held their land. "no land without a lord" was the principle of mediæval polity; just as "money has no master" is the basis of the bourgeois world with its self-made men. every distinction of rank in the feudal system was still denoted for the most part by a special costume. it was a world of knights in armour, of ecclesiastics in vestments and stoles, of lawyers in robes, of princes in silk and velvet and cloth of gold, and of peasants in laced shoe, brown cloak, and cloth hat. but although the whole feudal organisation was outwardly intact, the thinker who was watching the signs of the times would not have been long in arriving at the conclusion that feudalism was "played out," that the whole fabric of mediæval civilisation was becoming dry and withered, and had either already begun to disintegrate or was on the eve of doing so. causes of change had within the past half-century been working underneath the surface of social life, and were rapidly undermining the whole structure. the growing use of fire-arms in war; the rapid multiplication of printed books; the spread of the new learning after the taking of constantinople in , and the subsequent diffusion of greek teachers throughout europe; the surely and steadily increasing communication with the new world, and the consequent increase of the precious metals; and, last but not least, vasco de gama's discovery of the new trade route from the east by way of the cape--all these were indications of the fact that the death-knell of the old order of things had been struck. notwithstanding the apparent outward integrity of the system based on land tenures, land was ceasing to be the only form of productive wealth. hence it was losing the exclusive importance attaching to it in the earlier period of the middle ages. the first form of modern capitalism had already arisen. large aggregations of capital in the hands of trading companies were becoming common. the roman law was establishing itself in the place of the old customary tribal law which had hitherto prevailed in the manorial courts, serving in some sort as a bulwark against the caprice of the territorial lord; and this change facilitated the development of the bourgeois principle of private, as opposed to communal, property. in intellectual matters, though theology still maintained its supremacy as the chief subject of human interest, other interests were rapidly growing up alongside of it, the most prominent being the study of classical literature. besides these things, there was the dawning interest in nature, which took on, as a matter of course, a magical form in accordance with traditional and contemporary modes of thought. in fact, like the flicker of a dying candle in its socket, the middle ages seemed at the beginning of the sixteenth century to exhibit all their own salient characteristics in an exaggerated and distorted form. the old feudal relations had degenerated into a blood-sucking oppression; the old rough brutality, into excogitated and elaborated cruelty (aptly illustrated in the collection of ingenious instruments preserved in the torture-tower at nürnberg); the old crude superstition, into a systematised magical theory of natural causes and effects; the old love of pageantry, into a lavish luxury and magnificence of which we have in the "field of the cloth of gold" the stock historical example; the old chivalry, into the mercenary bravery of the soldier, whose trade it was to fight, and who recognised only one virtue--to wit, animal courage. again, all these exaggerated characteristics were mixed with new elements, which distorted them further, and which fore-shadowed a coming change, the ultimate issue of which would be their extinction and that of the life of which they were the signs. the growing tendency towards centralisation and the consequent suppression or curtailment of the local autonomies of the middle ages in the interests of some kind of national government, of which the political careers of louis xi. in france, of edward iv. in england, and of ferdinand and isabella in spain were such conspicuous instances, did not fail to affect in a lesser degree that loosely connected political system of german states known as the holy roman empire. maximilian's first reichstag in caused to be issued an imperial edict suppressing the right of private warfare claimed and exercised by the whole noble class from the princes of the empire down to the meanest knight. in the same year the imperial chamber (_reichskammer_) was established, and in the imperial aulic council. maximilian also organised a standing army of mercenary troops, called _landesknechte_. shortly afterwards germany was divided into imperial districts called circles (_kreise_), ultimately ten in number, all of which were under a _reichsregiment_, which had at its disposal a military force for the punishment of disturbers of the peace. but the public opinion of the age, conjoined with the particular circumstances, political and economic, of central europe, robbed the enactment in a great measure of its immediate effect. highway plundering and even private war was still going on, to a considerable extent, far into the sixteenth century. charles v. pursued the same line of policy; but it was not until after the suppression of the lower nobility in , and finally of the peasants in , that any material change took place; and then the centralisation, such as it was, was in favour of the princes, rather than of the imperial power, which, after charles v.'s time, grew weaker and weaker. the speciality about the history of germany is, that it has not known till our own day centralisation on a national or racial scale like england or france. at the opening of the sixteenth century public opinion not merely sanctioned open plunder by the wearer of spurs and by the possessor of a stronghold, but regarded it as his special prerogative, the exercise of which was honourable rather than disgraceful. the cities certainly resented their burghers being waylaid and robbed, and hanged the knights whenever they could; and something like a perpetual feud always existed between the wealthier cities and the knights who infested the trade routes leading to and from them. still, these belligerent relations were taken as a matter of course; and no disgrace, in the modern sense, attached to the occupation of highway robbery. in consequence of the impoverishment of the knights at this period, owing to causes with which we shall deal later, the trade or profession had recently received an accession of vigour, and at the same time was carried on more brutally and mercilessly than ever before. we will give some instances of the sort of occurrence which was by no means unusual. in the immediate neighbourhood of nürnberg, which was _bien entendu_ one of the chief seats of the imperial power, a robber-knight leader, named hans thomas von absberg, was a standing menace. it was the custom of this ruffian, who had a large following, to plunder even the poorest who came from the city, and, not content with this, to mutilate his victims. in june, , he fell upon a wretched craftsman, and with his own sword hacked off the poor fellow's right hand, notwithstanding that the man begged him upon his knees to take the left, and not destroy his means of earning his livelihood. the following august he, with his band, attacked a nürnberg tanner, whose hand was similarly treated, one of his associates remarking that he was glad to set to work again, as it was "a long time since they had done any business in hands". on the same occasion a cutler was dealt with after a similar fashion. the hands in these cases were collected and sent to the bürgermeister of nürnberg, with some such phrase as that the sender (hans thomas) would treat all so who came from the city. the princes themselves, when it suited their purpose, did not hesitate to offer an asylum to these knightly robbers. with absberg were associated georg von giech and hans georg von aufsess. among other notable robber-knights of the time may be mentioned the lord of brandenstein and the lord of rosenberg. as illustrating the strictly professional character of the pursuit, and the brutally callous nature of the society practising it, we may narrate that margaretha von brandenstein was accustomed, it is recorded, to give the advice to the choice guests round her board that when a merchant failed to keep his promise to them, they should never hesitate to cut off _both_ his hands. even franz von sickingen, known sometimes as the "last flower of german chivalry," boasted of having among the intimate associates of his enterprise for the rehabilitation of knighthood many gentlemen who had been accustomed to "let their horses on the high road bite off the purses of wayfarers". so strong was the public opinion of the noble class as to the inviolability of the privilege of highway plunder that a monk, preaching one day in a cathedral and happening to attack it as unjustifiable, narrowly escaped death at the hands of some knights present amongst his congregation, who asserted that he had insulted the prerogatives of their order. whenever this form of knight-errantry was criticised, there were never wanting scholarly pens to defend it as a legitimate means of aristocratic livelihood; since a knight must live in suitable style, and this was often his only resource for obtaining the means thereto. the free cities, which were subject only to imperial jurisdiction, were practically independent republics. their organisation was a microcosm of that of the entire empire. at the apex of the municipal society was the bürgermeister and the so-called "honorability" (_ehrbarkeit_), which consisted of the patrician _gentes_, (in most cases) those families which were supposed to be descended from the original chartered freemen of the town, the old mark-brethren. they comprised generally the richest families, and had monopolised the entire government of the city, together with the right to administer its various sources of income and to consume its revenue at their pleasure. by the time, however, of which we are writing the trading guilds had also attained to a separate power of their own, and were in some cases ousting the burgher-aristocracy, though they were very generally susceptible of being manipulated by the members of the patrician class, who, as a rule, could alone sit in the council (_rath_). the latter body stood, in fact, as regards the town, much in the relation of the feudal lord to his manor. strong in their wealth and in their aristocratic privileges, the patricians lorded it alike over the townspeople and over the neighbouring peasantry, who were subject to the municipality. they forestalled and regrated with impunity. they assumed the chief rights in the municipal lands, in many cases imposed duties at their own caprice, and turned guild privileges and rights of citizenship into a source of profit for themselves. their bailiffs in the country districts forming part of their territory were often more voracious in their treatment of the peasants than even the nobles themselves. the accounts of income and expenditure were kept in the loosest manner, and embezzlement clumsily concealed was the rule rather than the exception. the opposition of the non-privileged citizens, usually led by the wealthier guildsmen not belonging to the aristocratic class, operated through the guilds and through the open assembly of the citizens. it had already frequently succeeded in establishing a representation of the general body of the guildsmen in a so-called great council (_grosser rath_), and in addition, as already said, in ousting the "honorables" from some of the public functions. altogether the patrician party, though still powerful enough, was at the opening of the sixteenth century already on the decline, the wealthy and unprivileged opposition beginning in its turn to constitute itself into a quasi-aristocratic body as against the mass of the poorer citizens and those outside the pale of municipal rights. the latter class was now becoming an important and turbulent factor in the life of the larger cities. the craft-guilds, consisting of the body of non-patrician citizens, were naturally in general dominated by their most wealthy section. we may here observe that the development of the mediæval township from its earliest beginnings up to the period of its decay in the sixteenth century was almost uniformly as follows:[ ] at first the township, or rather what later became the township, was represented entirely by the group of _gentes_ or group-families originally settled within the mark or district on which the town subsequently stood. these constituted the original aristocracy from which the tradition of the _ehrbarkeit_ dated. in those towns founded by the romans, such as trier, aachen, and others, the case was of course a little different. there the origin of the _ehrbarkeit_ may possibly be sought for in the leading families of the roman provincials who were in occupation of the town at the coming of the barbarians in the fifth century. round this nucleus there gradually accreted from the earliest period of the middle ages the freed men of the surrounding districts, fugitive serfs, and others who sought that protection and means of livelihood in a community under the immediate domination of a powerful lord, which they could not otherwise obtain when their native village-community had perchance been raided by some marauding noble and his retainers. circumstances, amongst others the fact that the community to which they attached themselves had already adopted commerce and thus become a guild of merchants, led to the differentiation of industrial functions amongst the new-comers, and thus to the establishment of craft-guilds. another origin of the townsfolk, which must not be overlooked, is to be found in the attendants on the palace-fortress of some great over-lord. in the early middle ages all such magnates kept up an extensive establishment, the greater ecclesiastical lords no less than the secular often having several palaces. in germany this origin of the township was furthered by charles the great, who established schools and other civil institutions, with a magistrate at their head, round many of the palaces that he founded. "a new epoch," says von maurer, "begins with the villa-foundations of charles the great and his ordinances respecting them, for that his celebrated capitularies in this connection were intended for his newly established villas is self-evident. in that proceeding he obviously had the roman villa in his mind, and on the model of this he rather further developed the previously existing court and villa constitution than completely reorganised it. hence one finds even in his new creations the old foundation again, albeit on a far more extended plan, the economical side of such villa-colonies being especially more completely and effectively ordered."[ ] the expression "palatine," as applied to certain districts, bears testimony to the fact here referred to. as above said, the development of the township was everywhere on the same lines. the aim of the civic community was always to remove as far as possible the power which controlled them. their worst condition was when they were immediately overshadowed by a territorial magnate. when their immediate lord was a prince, the area of whose feudal jurisdiction was more extensive, his rule was less oppressively felt, and their condition was therefore considerably improved. it was only, however, when cities were "free of the empire" (_reichsfrei_) that they attained the ideal of mediæval civic freedom. it follows naturally from the conditions described that there was, in the first place, a conflict between the primitive inhabitants as embodied in their corporate society and the territorial lord, whoever he might be. no sooner had the township acquired a charter of freedom or certain immunities than a new antagonism showed itself between the ancient corporation of the city and the trade-guilds, these representing the later accretions. the territorial lord (if any) now sided, usually though not always, with the patrician party. but the guilds, nevertheless, succeeded in ultimately wresting many of the leading public offices from the exclusive possession of the patrician families. meanwhile the leading men of the guilds had become _hommes arrivés_. they had acquired wealth, and influence which was in many cases hereditary in their family, and by the beginning of the sixteenth century they were confronted with the more or less veiled and more or less open opposition of the smaller guildsmen and of the newest comers into the city, the shiftless proletariat of serfs and free peasants, whom economic pressure was fast driving within the walls, but who, owing to the civic organisation having become crystallised, could no longer be absorbed into it. to this mass may be added a certain number of impoverished burghers, who, although nominally within the town organisation, were oppressed by the wealth of the magnates, plebeian and patrician. the number of persons who, owing to the decay, or one might almost say the collapse, of the strength of the feudal system, were torn from the old moorings and left to drift about shiftless in a world utterly unprepared to deal with such an increase of what was practically vagabondage, was augmenting with every year. the vagrants in all western european countries had never been so numerous as in the earlier part of the sixteenth century. a portion of these disinherited persons entered the service of kings and princes as mercenary soldiers, and thus became the first germ of the modern standing army. another portion entered the begging profession, which now notably on the continent became organised in orthodox and traditional form into guilds, each of which had its master and other officers. yet another portion sought a more or less permanent domicile as journeymen craftsmen and unskilled labourers in the cities. this fact is noteworthy as the first indication of the proletariat in modern history. "it will be seen," says friedrich engels,[ ] "that the plebeian opposition of the then towns consisted of very mixed elements. it united the degenerate components of the old feudal and guild organisation with the as yet undeveloped and new-born proletarian element of modern bourgeois society in embryo. impoverished guildsmen there were, who through their privileges were still connected with the existing civic order on the one side, and serving-men out of place who had not as yet become proletarians on the other. between the two were the "companions" (_gesellen_) for the nonce outside the official society, and in their position resembling the proletariat as much as was possible in the then state of industry and under the existing guild-privilege. but, nevertheless, almost all of them were future guild-masters by virtue of this very guild-privilege."[ ] a noteworthy feature of municipal life at this time was the difficulty and expense attendant on entry into the city organisation even for the status of a simple citizen, still more for that of a guildsman. within a few decades this had enormously increased. * * * * * the guild was a characteristic of all mediæval life. on the model of the village-community, which was originally based on the notion of kinship, every interest, craft, and group of men formed itself into a "brotherhood" or "guild". the idea of individual autonomy, of individual action independent altogether of the community, is a modern idea which never entered the mediæval mind. as we have above remarked, even the mendicants and vagabonds could not conceive of adopting begging as a career except under the auspices of a beggars' guild. the guild was not like a modern commercial syndicate, an abstract body united only by the thread of one immediate personal interest, whose members did not even know each other. his guild-membership interpenetrated the whole life, religious, convivial, social and political, of the mediæval man. the guilds were more or less of the nature of masonic societies, whose concerns were by no means limited to the mere trade-function that appeared on the surface. "business" had not as yet begun to absorb the whole life of men. the craft or "mystery" was a function intimately interwoven with the whole concrete social existence. but it is interesting to observe among the symptoms of transition characterising the sixteenth century, as noted above, the formation of companies of merchants apart from and outside the old guild-organisation. these latter really seem a kind of foreshadowing of the rings, trusts, and joint-stock companies of our own day. many and bitter were the complaints of the manner in which prices were forced up by these earliest examples of the capitalistic syndicate, which powerfully contributed to the accumulation of wealth at one end of the scale and to the intensification of poverty at the other.[ ] the rich burgher loved nothing better than to display an ostentatious profusion of wealth in his house, in his dress, and in his entertainments. on the clothing and ornamentation of himself and his family he often squandered what might have been for his ancestor of the previous century the fortune of a lifetime. especially was this the case at the reichstags and other imperial assemblies held in the various free cities at which all the three feudal estates of the empire were represented. it was the aim of the wealthy councillor or guild-master on these occasions to outbid the princes of the empire in the magnificence of his person and establishment. the prince did not like to be outdone, and learnt to accustom himself to luxuries, and thereby to indefinitely increase his own expenditure. the same with all classes. the knighthood or smaller nobles, no longer content with homely fare, sought after costly clothing, expensive food and exotic wines, and to approach the affluent furnishing of the city magnate. his one or two horses, his armour, his sword and his lance, his homespuns made almost invariably on his estates, the wine grown in the neighbourhood, his rough oatmeal bread, the constituents of which had been ground at his own mill, the venison and wild fowl hunted by himself or by his few retainers, no longer sufficed for the knight's wants. in order to compass his new requirements he had to set to work in two ways. formerly he had little or no need of money. he received, as he gave, everything in kind. now that he had to deal with the beginnings of a world-market, money was a prime necessity. the first and most obvious way of getting it was to squeeze the peasant on his estate, who, bitten by the new mania, had also begun to accumulate and turn into cash the surplus products of labour on his holding. from what we have before said of the ways and manners of the knighthood, the reader may well imagine that he did not hesitate to "tower" the recalcitrant peasant, as it was called, that is, to throw him into his castle-dungeon if other means failed to make him disgorge his treasure as soon as it came to his lord's ears that he had any. but the more ordinary method of squeezing the peasant was by doubling and trebling the tithes and other dues, by imposing fresh burdens (many of them utterly unwarranted by custom) on any or no pretext. the princes, lay and ecclesiastic, applied the same methods on a more extended scale. these were often effected in an ingenious manner by the ecclesiastical lords through the forging of manorial rolls. the second of the methods spoken of for "raising the wind" was the mortgaging of castle and lands to the money-lending syndicates of the towns, or, in the case of the greater princes, to the towns themselves in their corporate capacity. the jews also came in for their share of land-mortgages. there were, in fact, few free or semi-free peasants whose lands were not more or less hypothecated. meanwhile prices rose to an incredible extent in a few years. such were the causes and results of the change in domestic life which the economic evolution of the close of the middle ages was now bringing about amongst all classes. the ecclesiastical lords, or lords spiritual, differed in no way in their character and conduct from the temporal princes of the empire. in one respect they outdid the princes, namely, in the forgery of documents, as already mentioned. luxury had, moreover, owing to the communication which they had with rome and thus indirectly with the byzantine civilisation, already begun with the prelates in the earlier middle ages. it now burst all bounds. the ecclesiastical courts were the seat of every kind of debauchery. as we shall see later on, they also became the places where the new learning first flourished. but in addition to the general luxury in which the higher ecclesiastics outdid the lay element of the empire, there was a special cause which rendered them obnoxious alike to the peasants, to the towns, and to their own feudatory nobles. this special cause was the enormous sum payable to rome for the pallium or investiture, a tax that had to be raised by the inhabitants of the diocese on every change of archbishop, bishop, or abbot. in addition thereto the entire income of the first year after the investiture accrued to the papal treasury under the name of annates. this constituted a continuous drain on the ecclesiastical dependencies and indirectly on the whole empire. there must also be added the cost of frequent journeys to rome, where each dignitary during his residence held court in a style of sumptuous magnificence. all these expenses tended to drain the resources of the territories held as spiritual fiefs in a more onerous degree than happened to other territories. moreover, the system of the sale of indulgences or remissions for all sins committed up to date was now being prosecuted to an extent never heard of before with a view to meet the increased expenditure of the papal see, and especially the cost of completing the cathedral of st. peter's at rome. thus by a sort of voluntary tax the wealth of germany was still further transferred to italy. hence can readily be seen the reason of the venomous hatred which among all classes of the empire had been gradually accumulating towards the papacy for more than a generation, and which ultimately found expression in luther's fulminations. the peasant of the period was of three kinds: the _leibeigener_ or serf, who was little better than a slave, who cultivated his lord's domain, upon whom unlimited burdens might be fixed, and who was in all respects amenable to the will of his lord; the _höriger_ or villein, whose services were limited alike in kind and amount; and the _freier_ or free peasant, who merely paid what was virtually a quit-rent in kind or in money for being allowed to retain his holding or status in the rural community under the protection of the manorial lord. the last was practically the counterpart of the mediæval english copyholder. the germans had undergone essentially the same transformations in social organisation as the other populations of europe. the barbarian nations at the time of their great migration in the fifth century were organised on a tribal and village basis. the head man was simply _primus inter pares_. in the course of their wanderings the successful military leader acquired powers and assumed a position that was unknown to the previous times, when war, such as it was, was merely inter-tribal and inter-clannish, and did not involve the movements of peoples and federations of tribes, and when, in consequence, the need for permanent military leaders or for the semblance of a military hierarchy had not arisen. the military leader now placed himself at the head of the older social organisation, and associated with his immediate followers on terms approaching equality. a well-known illustration of this is the incident of the vase taken from the cathedral of rheims, and of chlodowig's efforts to rescue it from his independent comrades-in-arms. the process of the development of the feudal polity of the middle ages is, of course, a very complicated one, owing to the various strands that go to compose it. in addition to the german tribes themselves, who moved _en masse_, carrying with them their tribal and village organisation, under the over-lordship of the various military leaders, were the indigenous inhabitants amongst whom they settled. the latter in the country districts, even in many of the territories within the roman empire, still largely retained the primitive communal organisation. the new-comers, therefore, found in the rural communities a social system already in existence into which they naturally fitted, but as an aristocratic body over against the conquered inhabitants. the latter, though not all reduced to a servile condition, nevertheless held their land from the conquering body under conditions which constituted them an order of freemen inferior to the new-comers. to put the matter briefly, the military leaders developed into barons and princes, and in some cases the nominal centralisation culminated as in france and england in the kingly office; while, in germany and italy, it took the form of the revived imperial office, the spiritual over-lord of the whole of christendom being the pope, who had his vassals in the prince-prelates and subordinate ecclesiastical holders. in addition to the princes sprung originally from the military leaders of the migratory nations, there were their free followers, who developed ultimately into the knighthood or inferior nobility; the inhabitants of the conquered districts forming a distinct class of inferior freemen or of serfs. but the essentially personal relation with which the whole process started soon degenerated into one based on property. the most primitive form of property--land--was at the outset what was termed _allodial_, at least among the conquering race, from every social group having the possession, under the trusteeship of its head man, of the land on which it settled. now, owing to the necessities of the time, owing to the need of protection, to violence and to religious motives, it passed into the hands of the over-lord, temporal or spiritual, as his possession; and the inhabitants, even in the case of populations which had not been actually conquered, became his vassals, villeins, or serfs, as the case might be. the process by means of which this was accomplished was more or less gradual; indeed, the entire extinction of communal rights, whereby the notion of private ownership is fully realised, was not universally effected even in the west of europe till within a measurable distance of our own time.[ ] from the foregoing it will be understood that the oppression of the peasant, under the feudalism of the middle ages, and especially of the later middle ages, was viewed by him as an infringement of his rights. during the period of time constituting mediæval history the peasant, though he often slumbered, yet often started up to a sudden consciousness of his position. the memory of primitive communism was never quite extinguished, and the continual peasant-revolts of the middle ages, though immediately occasioned, probably, by some fresh invasion, by which it was sought to tear from the "common man" yet another shred of his surviving rights, always had in the background the ideal, vague though it may have been, of his ancient freedom. such, undoubtedly, was the meaning of the jacquerie in france, with its wild and apparently senseless vengeance; of the wat tyler revolt in england, with its systematic attempt to embody the vague tradition of the primitive village community in the legends of the current ecclesiastical creed; of the numerous revolts in flanders and north germany; of the hussite movement in bohemia, under ziska; of the rebellion led by george doza in hungary; and, as we shall see in the body of the present work, of the social movements of reformation germany, in which, with the partial exception of ket's rebellion in england a few years later, we may consider them as coming to an end. for the movements in question were distinctly the last of their kind. the civil wars of religion in france, and the great rebellion in england against charles the first, which also assumed a religious colouring, open a new era in popular revolts. in the latter, particularly, we have clearly before us the attempt of the new middle class of town and country, the independent citizen, and the now independent yeoman, to assert its supremacy over the old feudal estates or orders. the new conditions had swept away the revolutionary tradition of the mediæval period, whose golden age lay in the past with its communal-holding and free men with equal rights on the basis of the village organisation--rights which with every century the peasant felt more and more slipping away from him. the place of this tradition was now taken by an ideal of individual freedom, apart from any social bond, and on a basis merely political, the way for which had been prepared by that very conception of individual proprietorship on the part of the landlord, against which the older revolutionary sentiment had protested. a most powerful instrument in accommodating men's minds to this change of view, in other words, to the establishment of the new individualistic principle, was the roman or civil law, which, at the period dealt with in the present book, had become the basis whereon disputed points were settled in the imperial courts. in this respect also, though to a lesser extent, may be mentioned the canon or ecclesiastical law,--consisting of papal decretals on various points which were founded partially on the roman or civil law,--a juridical system which also fully and indeed almost exclusively recognised the individual holding of property as the basis of civil society (albeit not without a recognition of social duties on the part of the owner). learning was now beginning to differentiate itself from the ecclesiastical profession, and to become a definite vocation in its various branches. crowds of students flocked to the seats of learning, and, as travelling scholars, earned a precarious living by begging or "professing" medicine, assisting the illiterate for a small fee, or working wonders, such as casting horoscopes, or performing thaumaturgic tricks. the professors of law were now the most influential members of the imperial council and of the various imperial courts. in central europe, as elsewhere, notably in france, the civil lawyers were always on the side of the centralising power, alike against the local jurisdictions and against the peasantry. the effects of the conquest of constantinople in , and the consequent dispersion of the accumulated greek learning of the byzantine empire, had, by the end of the fifteenth century, begun to show themselves in a notable modification of european culture. the circle of the seven sciences, the quadrivium, and the trivium, in other words, the mediæval system of learning, began to be antiquated. scholastic philosophy, that is to say, the controversy of the scotists and the thomists, was now growing out of date. plato was extolled at the expense of aristotle. greek, and even hebrew, was eagerly sought after. latin itself was assuming another aspect; the renaissance latin is classical latin, whilst mediæval latin is dog-latin. the physical universe now began to be inquired into with a perfectly fresh interest, but the inquiries were still conducted under the ægis of the old habits of thought. the universe was still a system of mysterious affinities and magical powers to the investigator of the renaissance period, as it had been before. there was this difference, however: it was now attempted to _systematise_ the magical theory of the universe. while the common man held a store of traditional magical beliefs respecting the natural world, the learned man deduced these beliefs from the neo-platonists, from the kabbala, from hermes trismegistos, and from a variety of other sources, and attempted to arrange this somewhat heterogeneous mass of erudite lore into a system of organised thought. the humanistic movement, so called, the movement, that is, of revived classical scholarship, had already begun in germany before what may be termed the _sturm und drang_ of the renaissance proper. foremost among the exponents of this older humanism, which dates from the middle of the fifteenth century, were nicholas of cusa and his disciples, rudolph agricola, alexander hegius and jacob wimpheling. but the new humanism and the new renaissance movement generally throughout northern europe centred chiefly in two personalities, johannes reuchlin and desiderius erasmus. reuchlin was the founder of the new hebrew learning, which up till then had been exclusively confined to the synagogue. it was he who unlocked the mysteries of the kabbala to the gentile world. but though it is for his introduction of hebrew study that reuchlin is best known to posterity, yet his services in the diffusion and popularisation of classical culture were enormous. the dispute of reuchlin with the ecclesiastical authorities at cologne excited literary germany from end to end. it was the first general skirmish of the new and the old spirit in central and northern europe. but the man who was destined to become the personification of the humanist movement, as the new learning was called, was erasmus. the illegitimate son of the daughter of a rotterdam burgher, he early became famous on account of his erudition, in spite of the adverse circumstances of his youth. like all the scholars of his time, he passed rapidly from one country to another, settling finally in basel, then at the height of its reputation as a literary and typographical centre. the whole intellectual movement of the time centres round erasmus, as is particularly noticeable in the career of ulrich von hutten, dealt with in the course of this history. as instances of the classicism of the period, we may note the uniform change of the patronymic into the classical equivalent, or some classicism supposed to be the equivalent. thus the name erasmus itself was a classicism of his father's name gerhard, the german name muth became mutianus, trittheim became trithemius, schwarzerd became melanchthon, and so on. we have spoken of the other side of the intellectual movement of the period. this other side showed itself in mystical attempts at reducing nature to law in the light of the traditional problems which had been set, to wit, those of alchemy and astrology: the discovery of the philosopher's stone, of the transmutation of metals, of the elixir of life, and of the correspondences between the planets and terrestrial bodies. among the most prominent exponents of these investigations may be mentioned philippe von hohenheim or paracelsus, and cornelius agrippa of nettesheim, in germany, nostradamus, in france, and cardanus, in italy. these men represented a tendency which was pursued by thousands in the learned world. it was a tendency which had the honour of being the last in history to embody itself in a distinct mythical cycle. "doctor faustus" may probably have had a historical germ; but in any case "doctor faustus," as known to legend and to literature, is merely a personification of the practical side of the new learning. the minds of men were waking up to interest in nature. there was one man, copernicus, who, at least partially, struck through the traditionary atmosphere in which nature was enveloped, and to his insight we owe the foundation of astronomical science; but otherwise the whole intellectual atmosphere was charged with occult views. in fact, the learned world of the sixteenth century would have found itself quite at home in the pretensions and fancies of our _fin de siècle_ theosophists, with their notions of making miracles non-miraculous, of reducing the marvellous to being merely the result of penetration on the part of certain seers and investigators of the secret powers of nature. every wonder-worker was received with open arms by learned and unlearned alike. the possibility of producing that which was out of the ordinary range of natural occurrences was not seriously doubted by any. spells and enchantments, conjurations, calculations of nativities, were matters earnestly investigated at universities and courts. there were, of course, persons who were eager to detect impostors: and amongst them some of the most zealous votaries of the occult arts--for example, trittheim and the learned humanist, conrad muth or mutianus, both of whom professed to have regarded faust as a fraud. but this did not imply any disbelief in the possibility of the alleged pretensions. in the faust-myth is embodied, moreover, the opposition between the new learning on its physical side and the old religious faith. the theory that the investigation of the mysteries of nature had in it something sinister and diabolical which had been latent throughout the middle ages was brought into especial prominence by the new religious movements. the popular feeling that the line between natural magic and the black art was somewhat doubtful, that the one had a tendency to shade off into the other, now received fresh stimulus. the notion of compacts with the devil was a familiar one, and that it should be resorted to for the purpose of acquiring an acquaintance with hidden lore and magical powers seemed quite natural. it will have already been seen from what we have said that the religious revolt was largely economical in its causes. the intense hatred, common alike to the smaller nobility, the burghers and the peasants, of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, was obviously due to its ever-increasing exactions. the sudden increase in the sale of indulgences, like the proverbial last straw, broke down the whole system; but any other incident might have served the purpose equally well. the prince-prelates were, in some instances, at the outset, not averse to the movement; they would not have been indisposed to have converted their territories into secular fiefs of the empire. it was only after this hope had been abandoned that they definitely took sides with the papal authority. the opening of the sixteenth century thus presents to us mediæval society, social, political and religious, "run to seed". the feudal organisation was outwardly intact; the peasant, free and bond, formed the foundation; above him came the knighthood or inferior nobility; parallel with them was the _ehrbarkeit_ of the less important towns, holding from mediate lordship; above these towns came the free cities, which held immediately from the empire, organised into three bodies, a governing council in which the _ehrbarkeit_ usually predominated, where they did not entirely compose it, a common council composed of the masters of the various guilds, and the general council of the free citizens. those journeymen, whose condition was fixed from their being outside the guild-organisations, usually had guilds of their own. above the free cities in the social pyramid stood the princes of the empire, lay and ecclesiastic, with the electoral college, or the seven electoral princes, forming their head. these constituted the feudal "estates" of the empire. then came the king of the romans; and, as the apex of the whole, the pope in one function and the emperor in another crowned the edifice. the supremacy, not merely of the pope, but of the complementary temporal head of the mediæval polity, the emperor, was acknowledged in a shadowy way, even in countries such as france and england, which had no direct connection with the empire. for, as the spiritual power was also temporal, so the temporal political power had, like everything else in the middle ages, a quasi-religious significance. the minds of men in speculative matters, in theology, in philosophy, and in jurisprudence, were outgrowing the old doctrines, at least in their old forms. in theology the notion of salvation by the faith of the individual, and not through the fact of belonging to a corporate organisation, which was the mediæval conception, was latent in the minds of multitudes of religious persons before expression was given to it by luther. the aversion to scholasticism, bred by the revived knowledge of the older greek philosophies in the original, produced a curious amalgam; but scholastic habits of thought were still dominant through it all. the new theories of nature amounted to little more than old superstitions, systematised and reduced to rule, though here and there the later physical science, based on observation and experiment, peeped through. in jurisprudence the epoch is marked by the final conquest of the roman civil law in its spirit, where not in its forms, over the old customs, pre-feudal and feudal. this motley world of decayed knights, lavish princes, oppressed and rebellious peasants, turbulent townsmen, licentious monks and friars, mendicant scholars and hireling soldiers, is the world some of whose least-known aspects we are about to consider in the following pages. footnotes: [ ] we are here, of course, dealing more especially with germany; but substantially the same course was followed in the development of municipalities in other parts of europe. [ ] _einleitung_, pp. , . [ ] _der bauernkrieg_, p. . [ ] the three grades in the craft-guilds were those of apprentice, companion, and master. every guildsman was supposed to pass through them. [ ] see appendix a. [ ] _cf._ von maurer's _einleitung zur geschichte der mark-verfassung_; gomme's _village communities_; stubbs' _constitutional history_. chapter i. first signs of social and religious revolt. the echoes of the hussite movement in bohemia spread far and wide through central europe at the beginning of the fifteenth century. it was not in vain that ziska bequeathed his skin for the purposes of a drum, since the echoes of its beating made themselves heard for many a year in bohemia and throughout central europe. the disciples of the movement settled in different countries, and became centres of propaganda, and the movement attached itself to the peasants' discontent. amid the various stirrings that took place, there are one or two that may arrest our attention owing to their importance and their typical character. it was in the year , when rudolph of scherenberg occupied the episcopal see of würzburg, that a cowherd, named hans boheim, of the neighbouring village of niklashausen, who was accustomed to pipe and to drum at local festivities, at places on the banks of the little stream called the tauber, was suddenly seized with an inspiration of preaching for the conversion of his neighbours from their sins. it appeared to him that his life had been hitherto sinful; he gave up all participation in village feasts, he became a dreamer, and announced that he had had visions of the virgin. in the middle of lent he proclaimed that he had been given a divine mission from the mother of god herself to burn his pipe and drum and to devote himself entirely to preaching the gospel to the common man. all were to abandon their former way of life, were to lay aside all personal ornament, and in humble attire to perform pilgrimages to niklashausen, and there worship the virgin as they esteemed their souls' salvation. in all this there was nothing very alarming to the authorities. peasantly inspirations were by no means unknown in the middle ages; but the matter assumed another aspect when the new seer, hans pfeifferlein, or "the little piper" as he was nicknamed, announced that the queen of heaven had revealed to him that there should henceforth be neither emperor, pope, prince, nor any lay or spiritual authority; but that all men should be brothers, earning their bread by the sweat of their brows, and sharing alike in all things. there were to be no more imposts or dues; land, woods, pastures, and water were to be free. the new gospel struck root immediately. the peasant folk streamed to niklashausen, from all sides,--men and women, young and old, journeymen, lads from the plough, girls from the fields, their sickles in their hands, without leave of lord or master, and without preparation of any sort whatever. food and the necessary clothing and shelter were given them by those on the way who had already embraced the new kingdom of god. the universal greeting among the pilgrims was "brother" and "sister". this went on for some months, the young prophet choosing chiefly sundays and holidays for his harangues. ignorant even of writing, he was backed by the priest of niklashausen, and by perhaps two or three other influential persons. many were the offerings brought to the niklashausen shrine. well nigh all who journeyed thither left some token behind, were it only a rough peasant's cap or a wax candle. those who could afford it gave costly clothes and jewellery. the proclamation of universal equality was indeed a gospel that appealed to the common man; the resumption of their old rights, the release from every form of oppression, as a proclamation from heaven itself, were tidings to him of great joy. the prophetic youth was hailed by all as the new messiah. after each week's sermon he invited the congregation to return next week with redoubled numbers; and his commands were invariably obeyed. men, women and children fell on their knees before him, crying: "oh, man of god, sent from heaven, have mercy on us and pity us". they tore the wool threads from his shaggy sheepskin cap, regarding them as sacred relics. the priests of the surrounding districts averred that he was a sorcerer and devil-possessed, and that a wizard had appeared to him, clad in white, in the form of the virgin, and had instilled into him the pernicious doctrines he was preaching. in all the surrounding country his miracles were talked about. the bishops of mainz and würzburg and the council of nürnberg forbade their villeins, under heavy penalties, from making the pilgrimage to niklashausen. but the effect of such measures only lasted for a short time. finally, on the sunday before the day of saint kilian, hans boheim, on the conclusion of his discourse, invited his hearers, as usual, to come on the next occasion. this time, however, he ordered men only to appear, but with arms and ammunition; women and children were to be left at home. no sooner did the tidings of this turn of affairs reach the ears of the bishop at würzburg than the latter resolved to forestall the movement. he sent thirty-four mounted men-at-arms after nightfall to niklashausen; they burst upon the sleeping youth, tore him from the house where he lay, and hurried him to würzburg, bound on horseback. but as it was near the end of the week, pilgrims had already arrived at niklashausen, and, on hearing the news of the attack, they hurried after the marauders, and caught them up close by the castle of würzburg. one of the knights was wounded, but his comrades succeeded in carrying him within the walls. the peasants failed to effect the intended rescue. by the sunday, , peasants had assembled at niklashausen; but the report of the capture of boheim had a depressing effect, and several thousands returned home. there were nevertheless some among the bands who, instigated probably by boheim's friend, the parish priest of niklashausen, endeavoured to rally the remaining multitude and incite them to a new attempt at rescue. one of them alleged that the holy trinity had appeared to him, and commanded that they should proceed with their pilgrim candles in their hands to the castle of würzburg, that the doors would open of themselves, and that their prophet would walk out to greet them. about , followed these leaders, marching many hours through the night, and arriving early next morning at the castle with flaming candles, and armed with the roughest weapons. kunz von thunfeld, a decayed knight, and michael, his son, constituted themselves the leaders of the motley band. the marshal of the castle received them, demanding their pleasure. "we require the holy youth," said the peasants. "surrender him to us, and all will be well; refuse, and we will use force." on the marshal's hesitating in his answer, he was greeted with a shower of stones, which drove him to seek safety within the walls. the bishop opened fire on the peasants, but after a short time sent one of his knights to announce that the cause of their preacher would be duly considered at a proper time and place, conjuring them at the same time to depart immediately in accordance with their vows. by cajolery and threats he succeeded in his object; the bands raised the siege of the castle, and dispersed homewards in straggling parties. the ruffianly scoundrel no sooner observed that the unsuspecting peasants were quietly wending their way home in small bodies, without a thought of hostilities, than he ordered his knights to pursue them, to attack them in the rear, and to murder or capture the ringleaders. the poor people, nevertheless, defended themselves with courage against this cowardly onslaught; twelve of them were left dead on the spot; many of the remainder sought shelter in the church of the neighbouring village. threatened there with fire and sword, they surrendered, and were brought back to würzburg and thrown into the dungeons of the castle. the majority were liberated before long; but the peasant who was alleged to have received the vision of the holy trinity, as well as he who had wounded the knight on the occasion of the attempt at rescue a few days before, were detained in prison, and on the following friday were beheaded outside the castle. hans boheim was at the same time burned to ashes. the leader of the revolt, kunz von thunfeld, a feudatory of the bishop, fled the territory, and was only allowed to return on his formally surrendering his lands in perpetuity to the bishopric. such was the history of a movement that may be reckoned as one of the more direct forerunners of the peasants' war. in the years and occurred the rising of the oppressed and plundered villeins of the abbot of kempten. the ecclesiastics on this domain had exhausted every possible means of injuring the unfortunate peasants, and numbers of free villeins had been converted into serfs by means of forged documents. the immediate cause of the revolt, however, was the seizure, by the abbot, of the stock of wine of a peasant who had just died, in addition to the horse which he was empowered to claim. an onslaught was made by the infuriated peasants on the monastery, and the abbot had to retire to his stronghold, the castle of liebenthann, hard by. the emperor ultimately intervened, and effected a compromise. but the first organised peasant movement took place in elsass[ ] in , and comprised burghers as well as peasants among its numbers. they were for the most part feudatories of the bishop of strassburg. by devious paths the members of this secret organisation were wont to betake themselves to the hill of hungerberg, north-west of the little town of schlettstadt. the ostensible objects of the association were complete freedom for the common man, reformation of the church in the sense that no priest should have more than one benefice, the introduction of a year of jubilee, in which all debts should be abolished, the extinction of all tithes, dues and other burdens, and the abolition of the spiritual courts and the territorial juridical court at rothweil. a _judenhetze_ also appears amongst the articles. the leader of this movement was one jacob wimpfeling. the programme and plan of action was to seize the town of schlettstadt, to plunder the monastery there, and then by forced marches to spread themselves over all elsass, surprising one town after another. it would seem that this was the first peasant movement that received the name of _bundschuh_, and the almost superstitious importance attached to the sign of this kind emblazoned on the flag is characteristic of the middle ages. the banner was the result of careful deliberations, and the final decision was that as the knight was distinguished by his spurs, so the peasant rising to obtain justice for his class should take as his emblem the common shoe he was accustomed to wear, laced from the ankle up to the knee with leathern thongs. they fondly hoped that the moment this banner was displayed, all capable of fighting would flock to the standard, from the villages and smaller towns. just as all was prepared for the projected stroke, the _bundschuh_ shared the common fate of similar movements, and was betrayed; and this in spite of the terrible threats that were held out to all joining, in the event of their turning traitors. it must be admitted that there was much folly in the manner in which many persons were enrolled, and this may have led to the speedy betrayal. everybody who was suspected of having an inkling of the movement was forced to swear allegiance to the secret league. immediately on the betrayal, bodies of knights scoured the country, mercilessly seizing all suspected of belonging to the conspiracy, and dragging them to the nearest tribunal, where they were tortured and finally quartered alive or hung. many of the fugitives succeeded in taking refuge in switzerland, where they seem to have been kindly welcomed. but the _bundschuh_ only slept, it was by no means extinguished. in the year , nine years later, the bishopric of _speyer_, the court of which was noted for its extravagance and tyranny, had to face another _bundschuh_. this second movement had able men at its head, and extended over well nigh all the regions of the upper and middle rhine. it similarly took the nature of a conspiracy, rather than of an open rebellion. within a few weeks, men and women had been sworn into the league, from a large number of villages, hamlets and small towns, for the larger towns were purposely left out, the movement being essentially a peasant one. the village and _mark_ of untergrünbach was its centre. its object and aim was nothing less than the complete overthrow of the existing ecclesiastical and feudal organisation of the empire. the articles of the association declared: "we have joined ourselves together in order that we may be free. we will free ourselves with arms in our hands, for we would be as the swiss. we will root out and abolish all authorities and lordships from the land, and march against them with the force of our host and with well-armed hand under our banner. and all who do not honour and acknowledge us shall be killed. the princes and nobles broken and done with, we will storm the clergy in their foundations and abbeys. we will overpower them, and hunt out and kill all priests and monks together." the property of the clergy and the nobles was to be seized and divided; as in the former case, all feudal dues were to be abolished, the primitive communism in the use of the land, and of what was on it, was to be resumed. the pass-word, by means of which the members of the organisation were known to one another, was the answer to the question: "how fares it?" the question and answer were in the form of a rhyme:-- "loset! was ist nun für ein wesen?" "wir mögen vor pfaffen und adel nit genesen." this may be paraphrased as follows:-- "well, now! and how doth it fare?" "of priests and of nobles we've enough and to spare." the idea was to rise at the opportune moment, as the swiss had done, to free themselves of all intermediate lordship, and to recognise no master below the king of the romans and the emperor. "nought but the justice of god" was the motto of their flag, and their colours were white and blue. before the figure of a crucifix a peasant knelt, and below was depicted a great _bundschuh_, the sign which had now become established as the symbol of the peasants' movements. with consummate tact, the leaders of the revolt forbade any members to go to confession, and it was the disregard of this order that led to the betrayal of the cause. a peasant in confession revealed the secret to a priest, who in his turn revealed it to the authorities. ecclesiastics, princes, and nobles at once took their measures. the most barbarous persecution and punishment of all suspected of having been engaged in the _bundschuh_ conspiracy followed. those concerned had their property confiscated, their wives and children were driven from the country, and they themselves were in many cases quartered alive; the more prominent men, by a refinement of cruelty, being dragged to the place of execution tied to a horse's tail. a tremendous panic seized all the privileged classes, from the emperor to the knight. they earnestly discussed the situation in no less than three separate assemblies of the estates. large numbers of those involved in this second _bundschuh_ managed to escape, owing to the pluck and loyalty of the peasants. a few bands were hastily got together, and, although quite insufficient to effect a successful revolt, they were able to keep the knightly warriors and _landesknechte_ at bay at certain critical points, so as to give the men who had really been the life and intelligence of the movement time to escape into switzerland or into other territories where they were unknown. in some cases the secret was so well kept that the local organisers remained unnoticed even in their own villages. for ten years after the collapse of the second _bundschuh_ in the rhenish district, the peasants remained quiet. it was not till that things began again to stir. one of the leaders, who had escaped notice on the suppression of the former conspiracy, was joss fritz. he was himself a native of untergrünbach, which had been its seat. he there acted as _bannwart_ or ranger of the district lands. for nearly ten years joss wandered about from country to country, but amid all his struggles for existence he never forgot the _bundschuh_. joss was a handsome man, of taking and even superior manners. he was very careful in his dress, sometimes apparelling himself in black jerkin with white hose, sometimes in red with yellow hose, sometimes in drab with green hose. he would seem to have been at one time a _landesknecht_, and had certainly taken part in various campaigns in a military capacity. whether it was from his martial bearing or the engaging nature of his personality, it is evident that joss fritz was in his way a born leader of men. about joss settled down in a village called lehen, a few miles from the town of freiburg, in breisgau. here he again obtained the position of _bannwart_, and here he began to seriously gather together the scattered threads of the old movement, and to collect recruits. he went to work cautiously; first of all confining himself to general complaints of the degeneracy of the times in the village tavern, or before the doors of the cottagers on summer evenings. he soon became the centre of an admiring group of swains, who looked up to him as the much-travelled man of the world, who eagerly sought his conversation, and who followed his counsel in their personal affairs. as joss saw that he was obtaining the confidence of his neighbours, his denunciations of the evils of the time grew more earnest and impassioned. at the same time he threw out hints as to the ultimate outcome of the existing state of things. but it was only after many months that he ventured to broach the real purpose of his life. one day when they were all assembled round him, he hinted that he might be able to tell them something to their advantage, would they but pledge themselves to secrecy. he then took each individually, and after calming the man's conscience with the assurance that the proposal for which he claimed strict secrecy was an honourable one, he expounded his plan of an organisation of all the oppressed, an undertaking which he claimed to be in full accord with holy writ. he never insisted upon an immediate adhesion, but preferred to leave his man to think the matter over. joss would sometimes visit his neighbours in their houses, explaining to them how all ancient custom, right and tradition was being broken through to gratify the rapacity of the ruling classes. he put forward as the objects of the undertaking the suppression of the payment of interest after it had amounted to an equivalent of the original sum lent; also that no one was to be required to give more than one day's service per year to his lord. "we will," he declared, "govern ourselves according to our old rights and traditions, of which we have been forcibly and wrongfully deprived by our masters. thou knowest well," he would continue, "how long we have been laying our claims before the austrian government at ensisheim."[ ] from speaking of small grievances, joss was gradually led to develop his scheme for the overthrow of feudalism, and for the establishment of what was tantamount to primitive conditions. at the same time he gave his hearers a rendezvous at a certain hour of eventide in a meadow, called the _hardmatte_, which lay outside the village, and skirted a wood. the stillness of the hour, broken only by the sounds of nature hushing herself to rest for the night, was, at the time appointed, invaded by the eager talk of groups of villagers. all his little company assembled, joss fritz here, for the first time, fully developed his schemes. in future, said he, we must see that we have no other lords than god, the pope, and the emperor; the court at rothweil, he said, must be abolished; each must be able to obtain justice in his native village, and no churchman must be allowed to hold more than one benefice; the superfluity of the monasteries must be distributed amongst the poor; the dues and imposts with which the peasants are burdened must be removed; a permanent peace must be established throughout christendom, as the perpetual feuds of the nobles meant destruction and misery for the peasants; finally, the primitive communism in woods, pasture, water, and the chase must be restored. joss fritz's proposals struck a sympathetic chord in the hearts of his hearers. it was only when he wound up by insisting upon the necessity of forming a new _bundschuh_ that some few of them hung back and went to obtain the advice of the village priest on the matter. father john (such was his name) was, however, in full accord in his ideas with joss, and answered that the proposals were indeed a godly thing, the success of which was foretold in the scriptures themselves. the meetings on the _hardmatte_ led to the formation of a kind of committee, composed of those who were most devoted to the cause. these were augustin enderlin, kilian mayer, hans freuder, hans and karius heitz, peter stublin, jacob hauser, hans hummel--hummel hailed from the neighbourhood of stuttgart--and hieronymus, who was also a stranger, a journeyman baker working at the mill of lehen, who had travelled far, and had acquired a considerable fund of oratory. all these men were untiring in their exertions to obtain recruits for the new movement. after having prepared the latter's minds, they handed over the new-comers to joss for deeper initiation, if he thought fit. it was not in crusades and pilgrimages he taught them, but in the _bundschuh_ that the "holy sepulchre" was to be obtained. the true "holy sepulchre" was to be found, namely, in the too long buried liberties of the people. the new _bundschuh_, he maintained, had ramifications extending as far as cologne, and embracing members from all orders. joss fritz had indeed before coming to lehen travelled through the black forest and the district of speyer, in the attempt, by no means altogether unsuccessful, to reunite the crushed and scattered branches of the old _bundschuh_. among the friends he had made in this way was a poor knight of the name of stoffel, of freiburg. the latter travelled incessantly in the cause; he was always carefully dressed, and usually rode on a white horse. the missionaries of the _bundschuh_, under the direction of joss fritz, assumed many different characters; now they were peasants, now townsmen, now decayed knights, according to the localities they visited. the organisation of the movement was carried out on lines which have been since reproduced in the fenian rising. it was arranged in "circles," the members of which knew one another, but not those outside the "circle". even the beggars' guild was pressed into the service, and very useful adjuncts the beggars were, owing to their nomadic habits. the heads of the "circles" communicated with each other at intervals as to the number of recruits and as to the morale of their members. they compared notes with the two leaders of the movement, joss and his friend stoffel, both of whom rode constantly from place to place to keep their workers up to the mark. the muster-roll would be held on these occasions, as at lehen itself, after dark, and in some woodland glade, near the village. the village taverns, generally the kitchens of some better-to-do peasant, were naturally among the best recruiting grounds, and the hosts themselves were often heads of "circles". strange and picturesque must have been these meetings after nightfall, when the members of the "circle" came together, the peasants in their plain blue or grey cloth and buff leather, the leaders in what to us seem the fantastic costumes of the period, red stockings, trunk-hose and doublet slashed with bright yellow, or the whole dress of yellow slashed with black, the slouch hat, with ostrich feather, surmounting the whole; the short sword for the leaders, and a hoe or other agricultural implement for the peasant, constituted the arms of the company. there was a visible sign by which the brethren recognised each other: it was a sign in the form of the letter h, of black stuff in a red field, sewn on to the breast-cloth. there appears also to have been another sign which certain of the members bore instead of the above; this consisted of three cross slits or slashes in the stuff of the right sleeve. this _bundschuh_, like the previous one in untergrünbach, had its countersign, which, to the credit of all concerned, be it said, was never revealed, and is not known to this day. the new _bundschuh_ was now thoroughly organised with all its officers, none of whom received money for their services. the articles of association drawn up were the result of many nightly meetings on the _hardmatte_, and embodied the main points insisted upon by joss in his exhortations to the peasants. they included the abolition of all feudal powers. god, the pope, and the emperor were alone to be recognised as having authority. the court at rothweil and all the ecclesiastical courts were to be abolished, and justice relegated to the village council as of old. the interest payable on the debts of the mortgaged holdings of the peasants was to be discontinued. fishing, hunting, woods and pasture were to be free to all. the clergy were to be limited to one benefice apiece. the monasteries and ecclesiastical foundations were to be curtailed, and their superfluous property confiscated. all feudal dues were to cease. the strange and almost totemistic superstition that the mediæval mind attached to symbolism is here evinced by the paramount importance acquired by the question of the banner. a banner was costly, and the _bundschuh_ was poor, but the banner was the first necessity of every movement. in this case, it was obligatory that the banner should have a _bundschuh_ inscribed upon it. artists of that time objected to painting _bundschuhs_ on banners; they were afraid to be compromised. hence it was, above all things, necessary to have plenty of money wherewith to bribe some painter. kilian mayer gave five vats of wine to a baker, also one of the brotherhood, in freiburg, to be sold in that town. the proceeds were brought to joss as a contribution to the banner fund. many another did similarly; some of those who met on the _hardmatte_, however, objected to this tax. but ultimately joss managed, by hook or by crook, to scrape together what was deemed needful. joss then called upon a "brother" from a distant part of the country, one known to no one in freiburg, to repair to the latter city and hunt up a painter. the "brother" was in a state of dire apprehension, and went to the house of the painter friedrich, but at first appeared not to know for what he had come. with much hesitation, he eventually gasped out that he wanted a _bundschuh_ painted. friedrich did not at all like the proposal, and kicked the unfortunate peasant into the street, telling him not to come in future with such questionable orders. the artist instantly informed the town council of freiburg of the occurrence; but as the latter did not know whence the mysterious personage had come, nor whither he had gone, they had to leave the matter in abeyance. they issued orders, however, for all true and faithful burghers to be on the look-out for further traces of the mischief. after this failure, joss bethought him that he had better take the matter in hand himself. now, there was another artist of freiburg, by name theodosius, who was just then painting frescoes in the church at lehen; to him joss went one evening with hans enderlin, a person of authority in the village, and kilian mayer. they invited him to the house of one of the party, and emptied many a measure of wine. when they had all drunk their fill, they went to walk in the garden, just as the stars were beginning to come out. joss now approached the painter with his project. he told him that there was a stranger in the village who wanted a small banner painted and had asked him (joss) to demand the cost. theodosius showed himself amenable as regards this point, but wanted to know what was to be the device on the banner. directly joss mentioned the word _bundschuh_, the worthy painter gave a start, and swore that not for the wealth of the holy roman empire itself would he undertake such a business. they all saw that it was no use pressing him any further, and so contented themselves with threatening him with dire consequences should he divulge the conversation that he had had with them. hans enderlin also reminded him that he had already taken an oath of secrecy in all matters relating to the village, on his engagement to do church work, a circumstance that curiously enough illustrates the conditions of mediæval life. the painter, fearful of not receiving his pay for the church work, if nothing worse, prudently kept silent. joss was at his wits' end. the silk of the flag was already bought, and even sewn; blue, with a white cross in the middle, were the colours; but to begin operations before the sign of the _bundschuh_ was painted, entered into the head of no one. in accordance with the current belief in magic, the symbol itself was supposed to possess a virtue, without the aid of which it was impossible to hope for success. there was nothing left for it but for joss to start on a journey to the free city of heilbronn in swabia, where he knew there lived a painter of some ability. arrived there, joss dissembled his real object, pretending that he was a swiss, who, when fighting in a great battle, had made a vow that if he came out safe and sound, he would undertake a pilgrimage to aachen (aix-la-chapelle), and there dedicate a banner to the mother of god. he begged the painter to make a suitable design for him, with a crucifix, the virgin and st. john the baptist, and underneath a _bundschuh_. the heilbronn artist was staggered at the latter suggestion, and asked what he meant. joss appeared quite innocent, and said that he was a shoemaker's son from stein-am-rhein, that his father had a _bundschuh_ as his trade-sign, and in order that it might be known that the gift was from him, he wished his family emblem to appear upon it. round the flag were to be the words: "lord, defend thy divine justice". these representations overcame the painter's scruples, and in a few days the banner was finished. hiding it under his doublet, joss hurried back to lehen. at last all was ready for the great coup. the _kirchweihe_ (or village festival, held every year on the name-day of the patron saint of a village church) was being held at a neighbouring village on the th of october. this was the date fixed for a final general meeting of the conspirators to determine the plan of attack and to decide whether freiburg should be its object, or some smaller town in the neighbourhood. the confederates in elsass were ordered, as soon as the standard of revolt was raised in breisgau (baden), to move across the rhine to burkheim, where the banner of the league would be flying. special instructions were given to the beggars to spy round the towns and in all inns and alehouses, and to bring reports to lehen. arrangements were also made for securing at least one or two adherents in each of the guilds in freiburg. all these orders were carried out in accordance with the directions made by joss before his departure. but whilst he was away the members lost their heads. when too late they bethought themselves to win over an old experienced warrior who lived in freiburg, a cousin of one of the chief conspirators at lehen. had they done so earlier it is likely enough that he would have been able to secure them possession of the city. as it happened, things were managed too hurriedly. before matters were ripe the chief men grew careless of all precautions, so confident were they of success. one of the conspirators within the city set fire to a stable with a view to creating a panic, in the course of which the keys of the city gates might be stolen and the leaguers admitted. the attempt, however, was discovered before the fire gained any hold, and merely put the authorities on the alert. again, three members of the league seized upon a peasant a short distance from the city, dragged him into a neighbouring wood, and made him swear allegiance. after he had done this under compulsion they exposed to him their intentions as to freiburg. the peasant proving recalcitrant, even to the extent of expressing horror at the proposal, the three drew their knives upon him, and would have murdered him when the sound of horses was heard on the high road close by, and, struck with panic, they let him go and hid themselves in the recesses of the wood. the peasant, of course, revealed all to his confessor the same evening, and wanted to know whether the oath he had taken under compulsion was binding on him. the priest put himself at once in communication with the imperial commissary of freiburg, who made the city corporation acquainted with the facts. two other traitors a few days after came to the assistance of the authorities, and revealed many important secrets. count philip of baden, their over-lord, to whom these disclosures were made, was not long in placing them at the disposal of the corporation of freiburg and of the austrian government at ensisheim. late the following night, october , messengers were sent in all directions to warn the authorities of the neighbouring villages and towns to prepare themselves for the outbreak of the conspiracy. double watches were placed at the gates of freiburg and on all the towers of the walls. the guilds were called together, and their members instructed to wake each other up immediately on the sound of the storm-bell, when they were all to meet in the cathedral close. the moment that these preparations were known at lehen, a meeting was called together on the _hardmatte_ at vespers; but in the absence of joss fritz, and, as ill-luck would have it, in that also of one or two of the best organisers who were away on business of the league, divided counsels prevailed. in the very midst of all this, two hundred citizens of freiburg armed to the teeth appeared in lehen, seized hans enderlin and his son, as also elsa, the woman with whom joss had been living, besides other leading men of the movement. panic now reigned amongst all concerned. well nigh every one took to flight, most of them succeeding in crossing the frontier to switzerland. the news of the collapse of the movement apparently reached joss before he arrived in lehen, as there is no evidence of his having returned there. many of the conspirators met together in basel, amongst them being joss fritz with his banner. they decided to seek an asylum in zürich. but they were fallen upon on the way, and two were made prisoners, the rest, among them joss, escaping. those of the conspirators who were taken prisoners behaved heroically; not the most severe tortures could induce them to reveal anything of importance. as a consequence, comparatively few of those compromised fell victims to the vengeance of their noble and clerical enemies. in elsass they were not so fortunate as in baden, many persons being executed on suspicion. the imperial councillor rudolph was even sent into switzerland to demand the surrender of the fugitives, and two were given up by schaffhausen. joss's mistress was liberated after three weeks, and she was suspected of having harboured him at different times afterwards. the last distinct traces of him are to be found in the black forest ten years later, during the great rising; but they are slight, and merely indicate his having taken a part in this movement. thus this interesting personality disappears from human ken. did the energetic and enthusiastic peasant leader fall a victim to noble vengeance in , or did he withdraw from public life to a tranquil old age in some obscure village of southern germany? these are questions which we shall now, it is probable, never be able to answer. at the same time that the foregoing events were taking place there was a considerable ferment in switzerland. increase of luxury was beginning to tell there also. the simple cloth or sheepskin of the old _eidgenosse_ was now frequently replaced, in the towns especially, by french and italian dresses, by doublets of scarlet silk, by ostrich feathers, and even by cloth of gold. in the cities domestic architecture began to take on the sumptuousness of the renaissance style. the coquettish alliance with louis xi. in the preceding century had already opened a way for the introduction of french customs. gambling for high stakes became the fashionable amusement in town and country alike. the story of hans waldmann, although belonging to a period some years earlier than that of this history, illustrates a decline from the primitive simplicity of the ancient switzer, a decline which had become infinitely more accentuated and general at the time of which we treat. all this led, of course, to harder conditions for the peasants, which, in the summer of , issued in several minor revolts. in some cases, notably in that of the peasants of canton bern, the issue was favourable to the insurgents. in the neighbouring country of würtemberg an insurrection also burst forth. it is supposed to have had some connection with the _bundschuh_ movement at lehen; but it took the name of "the poor conrad". it was immediately occasioned by the oppression of duke ulrich of würtemberg, who, to cover the expenses of his luxurious court, was burdening the peasants with ever-fresh exactions. he had already made debts to the extent of a million gulden. the towns, no less than the peasantry, were indignant at the rapacity and insolence of the minions of this potentate. first, an income-tax was imposed without the concurrence of the estates, which should have been consulted. next, an impost was laid on the daily consumption of meal and wine. the butchers and millers and vintners were then allowed to falsify their weights and measures, on the condition that the greater part of their increased profits went to the duke. "the poor conrad" demanded the removal of all these abuses; and, in addition, the freedom of the chase, of fishery and of wood-cutting, and the abolition of villein service. in the towns the poorer citizens, including both guildsmen and journeymen, were prepared to seize the opportunity of getting rid of their _ehrbarkeit_. this movement was also, like the _bundschuh_ at lehen, suppressed for the time being. we have gone at length into the history of the lehen _bundschuh_ as a type of the manner in which the peasant movements of the time were planned and organised. the methods pursued by "the poor conrad," the midnight meetings, the secret pass-words, the preparations for sudden risings, were in most respects similar. the skilled and well-equipped knighthood of duke ulrich, though inferior in numbers, readily dispersed the ill-armed and inexperienced bands of peasants whom they encountered. to this result the treacherous promises of duke ulrich, which induced large numbers of peasants to lay down their arms, contributed. the revolt proved a flash in the pan; and although those who had partaken in it were not punished with the merciless severity shown by the austrian government at ensisheim, it yet resulted in no amelioration of the conditions of the people. many of the leaders, and not a few of the rank and file, fled the country, and, as in the case of the lehen _bundschuh_, found a refuge in northern switzerland. in the autumn of baden was once more the scene of an attempted peasant rising, its objects being again much the same as were those of the previous enterprises. rent and interest were to be abolished, and no lord recognised except the emperor. the plan was to surprise and capture the towns of weissenburg and hagenau, and to make a clean sweep of the imperial councillors and judges, as well as of the knights and nobles. this conspiracy was, however, also discovered before the time for action was ripe. there were also, in various parts of central europe, other minor attempts at revolt and conspiracies which it is not necessary to particularise here. the great rebellion of the year , in hungary, however, although not strictly coming within the limits of our subject, deserves a few words of notice. at easter, in that year, the whole of hungary was stirred up by the preaching of a crusade against the turks, then hard pressing the eastern frontier. all who joined the crusade, down to the lowest serf, were promised not merely absolution, but freedom. the movement was immensely popular, thousands crowding to the standards. the nobles naturally viewed the movement with disfavour; many, in fact, sallied forth from their castles with their retinues to fetch back the fugitives. in many cases the seizures were accompanied with every circumstance of cruelty. as the news of these events reached the assembled bands in their camp, a change of disposition became manifest. the enthusiasm for vanquishing the turk abroad speedily gave way to an enthusiasm for vanquishing the turk at home. everywhere throughout the camp were heard threats of vengeance. finally, one george doza, who would seem to have been a genuine popular hero in the best sense of the word, placed himself at their head. george doza's aims were not confined to mere vengeance on the offending nobles. they extended to the conception of a complete reorganisation of the conditions of the oppressed classes throughout the country. in vain an order came from the court at ofen for the army to disperse. doza divided his forces into five bodies, each of which was to concentrate its efforts on a definite district, at the same time summoning the whole population to join. the destruction of castles, and the slaughter of their inmates, became general throughout the land. for a moment the nobles seemed paralysed; but they soon recovered themselves, and two of their number, johann zapolya and johann boremiszsza, aided by the inhabitants of the city of buda-pesth, got together an army to save the situation for their colleagues. they were not long in joining battle with the insurgents. the latter, deserted at the beginning by some of their leaders, who went over to the enemy, fought bravely, but had eventually to yield to superior arms and discipline. a large number of prisoners were taken, of whom the majority were barbarously executed, and the rest sent home, with ears and noses cut off. meanwhile, george doza, who had been besieging szegedin, withdrew his forces, and gave battle to bishop csaky and the count of temeswar, who were advancing with troops to relieve the town. after two days' hard fighting, victory rewarded the bravery of the peasants. doza's followers demanded vengeance for their murdered and mutilated comrades. the bishop was impaled, and the royal treasurer of the district hanged on a high gallows. but doza's was the only division of the popular army that met with any success. the rest, on coming to grips with the nobles, were dispersed and almost annihilated. the remnants joined the forces of their commander-in-chief, whose army was thus augmented from day to day. doza now issued a decree abolishing king and higher and lower nobility, deposing all bishops save one, and proclaiming the equality of all men before god. one of his lieutenants then succeeded in recruiting what amounted to a second army, containing a large force of cavalry. he moved on temeswar, but committed the imprudence of undertaking a long siege of this powerful fortress. after two months his army began to get demoralised. a few days before the place would have had to surrender, doza was surprised by the transylvanian army. in spite of this, however, he deployed his troops with incredible rapidity, and a terrific battle, long undecided, ensued. after several hours of hard fighting, one of the wings of doza's army took to flight. general confusion followed, in the midst of which doza might have been seen in the forefront of the battle like an ancient hero, hewing down nobles right and left, until his sword broke in his hand. he was then instantly seized, and made prisoner in company with his brother gregory. the latter was immediately beheaded. doza and about forty of his officers were thrown into a vile dungeon in temeswar and deprived of all nourishment. on the fourteenth day of their incarceration, nine alone remained alive. these nine, doza at their head, were led out into the open space before their prison. an iron throne was erected there and made red hot, and doza, loaded with chains, was forcibly placed upon it. a red-hot iron crown was laid upon his head, and a red-hot iron sceptre thrust into his hand. his companions were then offered their lives on condition that they forthwith tore off and devoured the flesh of their leader. three, who refused with indignation, were at once hewn in pieces. six did as they were bidden. "dogs!" cried doza. this was the only sound that escaped him. torn with red-hot iron pincers, he died. the defeated peasants were impaled and hanged by the hundred. it is estimated that over , of them perished in this war, and in the reprisals that followed it. the result of the insurrection was a more brutal oppression than had ever been known before. at the same time various insurrections of a local nature were taking place in germany and in the austrian territories. amid the styrian and carinthian alps there were movements of the peasants, who, in these remote mountain districts, seem to have retained more of their primitive independence. in the south-west of austria there were three duchies--kärnthen (carinthia), steiermarck (styria), and the krain. at kärnburg, a short distance from klagenfurt, was a round stone, on which were engraved the arms of the country. when a duke assumed the sovereignty, a peasant belonging to one of the ancient families of a neighbouring village in which this particular right was hereditary, attended to offer the new duke the homage of the peasantry. round the stone, on which sat the aged representative of the rural communities, the peasantry of the neighbourhood were gathered. the over-lord, attired in peasantly costume, advanced towards the stone. with him were two local dignitaries, one leading a lean black cow, the other an underfed horse. bringing up the rear followed the remaining nobility and knighthood, with the banner of the duchy. the peasant who was sitting on the fateful stone cried: "who is he who advances so proudly into our country?" the surrounding peasants answered: "it is our prince who comes." "is he a righteous judge?" asked the peasant on the stone. "will he promote the well-being of our land and its freedom? is he a protector of the christian faith and of widows and orphans?" the multitude shouted: "this he is, and will ever be so". that part of the ceremony concluded, the duke had to take an oath to the peasant on the stone that he would not disdain, for the welfare of the land, in any of the respects mentioned, to nourish himself with such a wretched beast as the cow accompanying him, or to ride on such a lean and ill-favoured steed. the peasant on the stone then gave the duke a light box on the ears, and conjured him in patriarchal fashion to remain ever a righteous judge and a father to his people. the old countryman then stood up, and the nobles surrendered to him the cow and horse, which he led home as his property. the above singular custom had been kept up in carinthia until the middle of the fifteenth century, when the emperor frederick iii. refused, in his capacity of local lord, to don the peasant garb, although he compromised the matter by giving the peasants a deed establishing them in their ancient freedom. the growing pressure of taxation and the new imposts, which the wars of maximilian entailed, led, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, to an agitation here also, and, finally, to a rising in which, it is said, as many as , peasants took part, but which did not immediately come to a head, owing to timely concessions on the part of the emperor. the league of the peasants, in this case, extended over styria as well as carinthia and the krain. it broke forth again in the spring of , owing to renewed oppressions on the part of the nobles. several castles, during the three months that the revolt lasted, were destroyed, and large stretches of country laid waste. not a few nobles were hurled from their own turrets. the emperor maximilian, who, throughout the whole affair, showed himself not unfavourable to the cause of the peasants, held his hand, as it would seem, so long as the latter confined themselves to punishing the notoriously rapacious among the territorial magnates; but afterwards, when the armed bodies of peasants gradually melted away, and those that remained lost all discipline, degenerating into mere plundering bands, he sent a party of a few hundred knights, who speedily routed the ill-armed and disorderly hordes. little quarter was given to the fugitives, and the usual bloody executions followed. there was, in addition, a heavy indemnity laid on the whole peasantry, which took the form of a perpetual tax. the revolt in the krain lasted longest, and was suppressed with the most bloodshed. those in styria and carinthia came to an end much sooner, and with less disastrous results to those who had been engaged in them. but it was not alone in germany, or, indeed, in central europe, that a general stirring was visible among the peasant populations at the beginning of the sixteenth century. it is true that the great revolts, the wat tyler insurrection in england, and the jacquerie in france, took place long before; but even when there was no great movement, sporadic excitement was everywhere noticeable. in spain, we read of a peasant revolt, which cornelius agrippa of nettesheim was engaged by the territorial lord to quell by his supposed magical powers. in england, the disturbances of henry viii.'s reign, connected with the suppression of the monasteries, are well known. the expropriation of the people from the soil to make room for sheep-farms also gave occasion to periodical disturbances of a local character, which culminated in in the famous revolt led by john ket in east anglia. the deep-reaching importance and effective spread of movements was infinitely greater in the middle ages than in modern times. the same phenomenon presents itself to-day in barbaric and semi-barbaric communities. at first sight one is inclined to think that there has been no period in the world's history when it was so easy to stir up a population as the present, with our newspapers, our telegraphs, our postal arrangements and our railways. but this is just one of those superficial notions that are not confirmed by history. we are similarly apt to think that there was no age in which travel was so widespread, and formed so great a part of the education of mankind as at present. there could be no greater mistake. the true age of travelling was the close of the middle ages, or what is known as the renaissance period. the man of learning, then just differentiated from the ecclesiastic, spent the greater part of his life in carrying his intellectual wares from court to court, and from university to university, just as the merchant personally carried his goods from city to city in an age in which commercial correspondence, bill-brokers, and the varied forms of modern business were but in embryo. it was then that travel really meant education, the acquirement of thorough and intimate knowledge of diverse manners and customs. travel was then not a pastime, but a serious element in life. in the same way the spread of a political or social movement was at least as rapid then as now, and far more penetrating. the methods were, of course, vastly different from the present; but the human material to be dealt with was far easier to mould, and kept its shape much more readily when moulded, than is the case now-a-days. the appearance of a religious or political teacher in a village or small town of the middle ages was an event which keenly excited the interest of the inhabitants. it struck across the path of their daily life, leaving behind it a track hardly conceivable to-day. for one of the salient symptoms of the change which has taken place since that time is the disappearance of local centres of activity, and the transference of the intensity of life to a few large towns. in the middle ages, every town, small no less than large, was a more or less self-sufficing organism, intellectually and industrially, and was not essentially dependent on the outside world for its social sustenance. this was especially the case in central europe, where communication was much more imperfect and dangerous than in italy, france, or england. in a society without newspapers, without easy communication with the rest of the world, when the vast majority could neither read nor write, when books were rare and costly, and accessible only to the privileged few, a new idea bursting upon one of these communities was eagerly welcomed, discussed in the council chamber of the town, in the hall of the castle, in the refectory of the monastery, at the social board of the burgess, in the workroom, and, did it but touch his interests, in the hut of the peasant. it was canvassed, too, at church festivals (_kirchweihe_), the only regular occasion on which the inhabitants of various localities came together. in the absence of all other distraction, men thought it out in all the bearings which their limited intellectual horizon permitted. if calculated in any way to appeal to them, it soon struck root, and became a part of their very nature, a matter for which, if occasion were, they were prepared to sacrifice goods, liberty, and even life itself. in the present day a new idea is comparatively slow in taking root. amid the myriad distractions of modern life, perpetually chasing one another, there is no time for any one thought, however wide-reaching in its bearings, to take a firm hold. in order that it should do this in the _modern mind_, it must be again and again borne in upon this, not always too receptive intellectual substance. people require to read of it day after day in their newspapers, or to hear it preached from countless platforms, before any serious effect is created. in the simple life of former ages it was not so. the mode of transmitting intelligence, especially such as was connected with the stirring up of political and religious movements, was in those days of a nature of which we have now little conception. the sort of thing in vogue then may be compared to the methods adopted in india to prepare the mutiny of , when the mysterious cake was passed from village to village, signifying that the moment had come for the outbreak. we have already seen how joss fritz used the guild of beggars as fetchers and carriers of news and as auxiliaries in his organisation generally. the fact is noteworthy, moreover, that his confidence in them does not seem to have been misplaced, for the collapse of the movement cannot certainly be laid to their account. the sense of _esprit de corps_ and of that kind of honour most intimately associated with it is, it must also be remembered, infinitely keener in ruder states of society than under a high civilisation. the growth of civilisation, as implying the disruption of the groups in which the individual is merged under more primitive conditions, and his isolation as an autonomous unit having vague and very elastic moral duties to his "country" or to the whole of mankind, but none towards any definite and proximate social whole, necessarily destroys that communal spirit which prevails in the former case. this is one of the striking truths which the history of these peasant risings illustrates in various ways and brings vividly home to us. footnotes: [ ] we adopt the german spelling of the name of the province usually known in this country as alsace, for the reason that at the time of which this history treats it had never been french; and the french language was probably little more known there than in other parts of germany. [ ] it will be seen from the historical map that breisgau and sundgau were feudal appanages of the house of austria. ensisheim was the seat of the _habsburg_ over-lordship in the district (not to be confounded with the _imperial_ power). chapter ii. the reformation movement. the "great man" theory of history, formerly everywhere prevalent, and even now common among non-historical persons, has long regarded the reformation as the purely personal work of the augustine monk who was its central figure. the fallacy of this conception is particularly striking in the case of the reformation. not only was it preceded by numerous sporadic outbursts of religious revivalism which sometimes took the shape of opposition to the dominant form of christianity, though it is true they generally shaded off into mere movements of independent catholicism within the church; but there were in addition at least two distinct religious movements which led up to it, while much which, under the reformers of the sixteenth century, appears as a distinct and separate theology, is traceable in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the mystical movement connected with the names of meister eckhart and tauler. meister eckhart, whose free treatment of christian doctrines, in order to bring them into consonance with his mystical theology, had drawn him into conflict with the papacy, undoubtedly influenced luther through his disciple, tauler, and especially through the book which proceeded from the latter's school, the _deutsche theologie_. it is, however, in the much more important movement, which originated with wyclif and extended to central europe through huss, that we must look for the more obvious influences determining the course of religious development in germany. the wycliffite movement in england was less a doctrinal heterodoxy than a revolt against the papacy and the priestly hierarchy. mere theoretical speculations were seldom interfered with, but anything which touched their material interests at once aroused the vigilance of the clergy. it is noticeable that the diffusion of lollardism, that is of the ideas of wyclif, if not the cause of, was at least followed by the peasant rising under the leadership of john ball, a connection which is also visible in the tziska revolt following the hussite movement, and the peasants' war in germany which came on the heels of the lutheran reformation. how much huss was directly influenced by the teachings of wyclif is clear. the works of the latter were widely circulated throughout europe; for one of the advantages of the custom of writing in latin, which was universal during the middle ages, was that books of an important character were immediately current amongst all scholars without having, as now, to wait upon the caprice and ability of translators. huss read wyclif's works as the preparation for his theological degree, and subsequently made them his text-books when teaching at the university of prague. after his treacherous execution at constance, and the events which followed thereupon in bohemia, a number of hussite fugitives settled in southern germany, carrying with them the seeds of the new doctrines. an anonymous contemporary writer states that "to john huss and his followers are to be traced almost all those false principles concerning the power of the spiritual and temporal authorities and the possession of earthly goods and rights which before in bohemia, and now with us, have called forth revolt and rebellion, plunder, arson, and murder, and have shaken to its foundations the whole commonwealth. the poison of these false doctrines has been long flowing from bohemia into germany, and will produce the same desolating consequences wherever it spreads." the condition of the catholic church, against which the reformation movement generally was a protest, needs here to be made clear to the reader. the beginning of clerical disintegration is distinctly visible in the first half of the fourteenth century. the interdicts, as an institution, had ceased to be respected, and the priesthood itself began openly to sink itself in debauchery and to play fast and loose with the rites of the church. indulgences for a hundred years were readily granted for a consideration. the manufacture of relics became an organised branch of industry; and festivals of fools and festivals of asses were invented by the jovial priests themselves in travesty of sacred mysteries, as a welcome relaxation from the monotony of prescribed ecclesiastical ceremony. pilgrimages increased in number and frequency; new saints were created by the dozen; and the disbelief of the clergy in the doctrines they professed was manifest even to the most illiterate, whilst contempt for the ceremonies they practised was openly displayed in the performance of their clerical functions. an illustration of this is the joke of the priests related by luther, who were wont during the celebration of the mass, when the worshippers fondly imagined that the sacred formula of transubstantiation was being repeated, to replace the words _panis es et carnem fiebis_, "bread thou art and flesh thou shalt become," _by panis es et panem manebis_, "bread thou art and bread thou shalt remain". the scandals as regards clerical manners, growing, as they had been, for many generations, reached their climax in the early part of the sixteenth century. it was a common thing for priests to drive a roaring trade as moneylenders, landlords of alehouses and gambling dens, and even, in some cases, brothel-keepers. papal ukases had proved ineffective to stem the current of clerical abuses. the regular clergy evoked even more indignation than the secular. "stinking cowls" was a favourite epithet for the monks. begging, cheating, shameless ignorance, drunkenness and debauchery, are alleged as being their noted characteristics. one of the princes of the empire addresses a prior of a convent largely patronised by aristocratic ladies as "thou, our common brother-in-law!" in some of the convents of friesland, promiscuous intercourse between the sexes was, it is said, quite openly practised, the offspring being reared as monks and nuns. the different orders competed with each other for the fame and wealth to be obtained out of the public credulity. a fraud attempted by the dominicans at bern, in , _with the concurrence of the heads of the order throughout germany_, was one of the main causes of that city adopting the reformation.[ ] in addition to the increasing burdens of investitures, annates, and other papal dues, the brunt of which the german people had directly or indirectly to bear, special offence was given at the beginning of the sixteenth century by the excessive exploitation of the practice of indulgences by leo x. for the purpose of completing the cathedral of st. peter's at rome. it was this, coming on the top of the exactions already rendered necessary by the increasing luxury and debauchery of the papal court and those of the other ecclesiastical dignitaries, that directly led to the dramatic incidents with which the lutheran reformation opened. the remarkable personality with which the religious side of the reformation is pre-eminently associated was a child of his time, who had passed through a variety of mental struggles, and had already broken through the bonds of the old ecclesiasticism before that turning point in his career which is usually reckoned the opening of the reformation, to wit--the nailing of the theses on to the door of the schloss-kirche in wittenberg on the st of october, . martin luther, we must always bear in mind, however, was no protestant in the english puritan sense of the word. it was not merely that he retained much of what would be deemed by the old-fashioned english protestant "romish error" in his doctrine, but his practical view of life showed a reaction from the ascetic pretensions which he had seen bred nothing but hypocrisy and the worst forms of sensual excess. it is, indeed, doubtful if the man who sang the praises of "wine, women, and song" would have been deemed a fit representative in parliament or elsewhere by the british nonconformist conscience of our day; or would be acceptable in any capacity to the grocer-deacon of our provincial towns, who, not content with being allowed to sand his sugar and adulterate his tea unrebuked, would socially ostracise every one whose conduct did not square with his conventional shibboleths. martin luther was a child of his time also as a boon companion. the freedom of his living in the years following his rupture with rome was the subject of severe animadversions on the part of the noble, but in this respect narrow-minded thomas münzer, who in his open letter addressed to the "soft-living flesh of wittenberg," scathingly denounces what he deems his debauchery. it does not enter into our province here to discuss at length the religious aspects of the reformation; but it is interesting to note in passing the more than modern liberality of luther's views with respect to the marriage question and the celibacy of the clergy, contrasted with the strong mediæval flavour of his belief in witchcraft and sorcery. in his _de captivitate babylonica ecclesiæ_ ( ) he expresses the view that if, for any cause, husband or wife are prevented from having sexual intercourse they are justified, the woman equally with the man, in seeking it elsewhere. he was opposed to divorce, though he did not forbid it, and recommended that a man should rather have a plurality of wives than that he should put away any of them. luther held strenuously the view that marriage was a purely external contract for the purpose of sexual satisfaction, and in no way entered into the spiritual life of the man. on this ground he sees no objection in the so-called mixed marriages, which were, of course, frowned upon by the catholic church. in his sermon on "married life" he says: "know therefore that marriage is an outward thing, like any other worldly business. just as i may eat, drink, sleep, walk, ride, buy, speak and bargain with a heathen, a jew, a turk or a heretic; so may i also be and remain married to such an one, and i care not one jot for the fool's laws which forbid it.... a heathen is just as much man or woman, well and shapely made by god, as st. peter, st. paul, or st. lucia." nor did he shrink from applying his views to particular cases, as is instanced by his correspondence with philip von hesse, whose constitution appears to have required more than one wife. he here lays down explicitly the doctrine that polygamy and concubinage are not forbidden to christians, though, in his advice to philip, he adds the _caveat_ that he should keep the matter dark to the end that offence might not be given; "for," says he, "it matters not, provided one's conscience is right, what others say". in one of his sermons on the pentateuch[ ] we find the words: "it is not forbidden that a man have more than one wife. i would not forbid it to-day, albeit i would not advise it.... yet neither would i condemn it." other opinions on the nature of the sexual relations were equally broad; for in one of his writings on monastic celibacy his words plainly indicate his belief that chastity, no more than other fleshly mortifications, was to be considered a divine ordinance for all men or women. in an address to the clergy he says: "a woman not possessed of high and rare grace can no more abstain from a man than from eating, drinking, sleeping, or other natural function. likewise a man cannot abstain from a woman. the reason is that it is as deeply implanted in our nature to breed children as it is to eat and drink."[ ] the worthy janssen observes in a scandalised tone that luther, as regards certain matters relating to married life, "gave expression to principles before unheard of in christian europe;"[ ] and the british nonconformist of to-day, if he reads these "immoral" opinions of the hero of the reformation, will be disposed to echo the sentiments of the ultramontane historian. the relation of the reformation to the "new learning" was in germany not unlike that which existed in the other northern countries of europe, and notably in england. whilst the hostility of the latter to the mediæval church was very marked, and it was hence disposed to regard the religious reformation as an ally, this had not proceeded very far before the tendency of the renaissance spirit was to side with catholicism against the new theology and dogma, as merely destructive and hostile to culture. the men of the humanist movement were for the most part freethinkers, and it was with them that freethought first appeared in modern europe. they therefore had little sympathy with the narrow bigotry of religious reformers, and preferred to remain in touch with the church, whose then loose and tolerant catholicism gave freer play to intellectual speculations, provided they steered clear of overt theological heterodoxy, than the newer systems, which, taking theology _au grand sérieux_, tended to regard profane art and learning as more or less superfluous, and spent their whole time in theological wrangles. nevertheless, there were not wanting men who, influenced at first by the revival of learning, ended by throwing themselves entirely into the reformation movement, though in these cases they were usually actuated rather by their hatred of the catholic hierarchy than by any positive religious sentiment. of such men ulrich von hutten, the descendant of an ancient and influential knightly family, was a noteworthy example. after having already acquired fame as the author of a series of skits in the new latin, and other works of classical scholarship, being also well known as the ardent supporter of reuchlin in his dispute with the church, and as the friend and correspondent of the central humanist figure of the time, erasmus, he watched with absorbing interest the movement which luther had inaugurated. six months after the nailing of the theses at wittenberg, he writes enthusiastically to a friend respecting the growing ferment in ecclesiastical matters, evidently regarding the new movement as a kilkenny-cat fight. "the leaders," he says, "are bold and hot, full of courage and zeal. now they shout and cheer, now they lament and bewail, as loud as they can. they have lately set themselves to write; the printers are getting enough to do. propositions, corollaries, conclusions, and articles are being sold. for this alone i hope they will mutually destroy each other." "a few days ago a monk was telling me what was going on in saxony, to which i replied: 'devour each other in order that ye in turn may be devoured (_sic_)'. pray heaven that our enemies may fight each other to the bitter end, and by their obstinacy extinguish each other." from this it will be seen that hutten regarded the reformation in its earlier stages as merely a monkish squabble, and failed to see the tremendous upheaval of all the old landmarks of ecclesiastical domination which was immanent in it. so soon, however, as he perceived its real significance, he threw himself wholly into the movement. it must not be forgotten, moreover, that, although hutten's zeal for humanism made him welcome any attempt to overthrow the power of the clergy and the monks, he had also an eminently political motive for his action in what was, in some respects, the main object of his life, _viz._, to rescue the "knighthood," or smaller nobility, from having their independence crushed out by the growing powers of the princes of the empire. probably more than one-third of the manors were held by ecclesiastical dignitaries, so that anything which threatened their possessions and privileges seemed to strike a blow at the very foundations of the imperial system. hutten hoped that the new doctrines would set the princes by the ears all round; and that then, by allying themselves with the reforming party, the knighthood might succeed in retaining the privileges which still remained to them, but were rapidly slipping away, and might even regain some of those which had been already lost. it was not till later, however, that hutten saw matters in this light. he was at the time the above letter was written in the service of the archbishop albrecht of mainz, the leading favourer of the new learning amongst the prince-prelates, and it was mainly from the humanist standpoint that he regarded the beginnings of the reformation. after leaving the service of the archbishop he struck up a personal friendship with luther, instigated thereto by his political chief, franz von sickingen, the leader of the knighthood, from whom he probably received the first intimation of the importance of the new movement to their common cause. when, in , the young emperor, charles v., was crowned at aachen, luther's party, as well as the knighthood, expected that considerable changes would result in a sense favourable to their position from the presumed pliability of the new head of the empire. his youth, it was supposed, would make him more sympathetic to the newer spirit which was rapidly developing itself; and it is true that about the time of his election charles had shown a transient favour to the "recalcitrant monk". it would appear, however, that this was only for the purpose of frightening the pope into abandoning his declared intention of abolishing the inquisition in spain, then regarded as one of the mainstays of the royal power, and still more to exercise pressure upon him, in order that he should facilitate charles's designs on the milanese territory. once these objects were attained, he was just as ready to oblige the pope by suppressing the new anti-papal movement as he might possibly otherwise have been to have favoured it with a view to humbling the only serious rival to his dominion in the empire. immediately after his coronation, he proceeded to cologne and convoked by imperial edict a reichstag at worms for the following th of january, . the proceedings of this famous reichstag have been unfortunately so identified with the edict against luther that the other important matters which were there discussed have almost fallen into oblivion. at least two other questions were dealt with, however, which are significant of the changes that were then taking place. the first was the rehabilitation and strengthening of the imperial governing council (_reichs-regiment_), whose functions under maximilian had been little more than nominal. there was at first a feeling amongst the states in favour of transferring all authority to it, even during the residence of the emperor in the empire; and in the end, while having granted to it complete power during his absence, it practically retained very much of this power when he was present. in constitution it was very similar to the french "parliaments," and like them was principally composed of learned jurists, four being elected by the emperor and the remainder by the estates. the character and the great powers of this council, extending even to ecclesiastical matters during the ensuing years, undoubtedly did much to hasten on the substitution of the civil law for the older customary or common law, a matter which we shall consider more in detail later on. the financial condition of the empire was also considered; and it here first became evident that the dislocation of economic conditions, which had begun with the century, would render an enormously increased taxation necessary to maintain the imperial authority, amounting to five times as much as had previously been required. it was only after these secular affairs of the empire had been disposed of that the deliberations of the reichstag on ecclesiastical matters were opened by the indictment of luther in a long speech by aleander, one of the papal nuncios, in introducing the pope's letter. in spite of the efforts of his friends, luther was not permitted to be present at the beginning of the proceedings; but subsequently he was sent for by the emperor, in order that he might state his case. his journey to worms was one long triumph, especially at erfurt, where he was received with enthusiasm by the humanists as the enemy of the papacy. but his presence in the reichstag was unavailing, and the proceedings resulted in his being placed under the ban of the empire. the safe-conduct of the emperor was, however, in his case respected; and in spite of the fears of his friends that a like fate might befall him as had befallen huss after the council of constance, he was allowed to depart unmolested. on his way to wittenberg luther was seized by arrangement with his supporter, the kurfürst of saxony, and conveyed in safety to the castle of wartburg, in thüringen, a report in the meantime being industriously circulated by certain of his adherents, with a view of arousing popular feeling, that he had been arrested by order of the emperor and was being tortured. in this way he was secured from all danger for the time being, and it was during his subsequent stay that he laid the foundations of the literary language of germany. says a contemporary writer,[ ] an eye-witness of what went on at worms during the sitting of the reichstag: "all is disorder and confusion. seldom a night doth pass but that three or four persons be slain. the emperor hath installed a provost, who hath drowned, hanged, and murdered over a hundred men." he proceeds: "stabbing, whoring, flesh-eating (it was in lent) ... altogether there is an orgie worthy of the venusberg". he further states that many gentlemen and other visitors had drunk themselves to death on the strong rhenish wine. aleander was in danger of being murdered by the lutheran populace, instigated thereto by hutten's inflammatory letters from the neighbouring castle of ebernburg, in which franz von sickingen had given him a refuge. the fiery humanist wrote to aleander himself, saying that he would leave no stone unturned "till thou who camest hither full of wrath, madness, crime, and treachery shalt be carried hence a lifeless corpse". aleander naturally felt exceedingly uncomfortable, and other supporters of the papal party were not less disturbed at the threats which seemed in a fair way of being carried out. the emperor himself was without adequate means of withstanding a popular revolt should it occur. he had never been so low in cash or in men as at that moment. on the other hand, sickingen, to whom he owed money, and who was the only man who could have saved the situation under the circumstances, had matters come to blows, was almost overtly on the side of the lutherans; while the whole body of the impoverished knighthood were only awaiting a favourable opportunity to overthrow the power of the magnates, secular and ecclesiastic, with sickingen as a leader. such was the state of affairs at the beginning of the year . the ban placed upon luther by the reichstag marks the date of the complete rupture between the reforming party and the old church. henceforward, many humanist and humanistically-influenced persons who had supported him withdrew from the movement and swelled the ranks of the conservatives. foremost amongst these were pirckheimer, the wealthy merchant and scholar of nürnberg, and many others who dreaded lest the attack on ecclesiastical property and authority should, as indeed was the case, issue in a general attack on all property and authority. thomas murner, also, who was the type of the "moderate" of the situation, while professing to disapprove of the abuses of the church, declared that luther's manner of agitation could only lead to the destruction of all order, civil no less than ecclesiastical. the two parties were now clearly defined, and the points at issue were plainly irreconcilable with one another or involved irreconcilable details. the printing press now for the first time appeared as the vehicle for popular literature; the art of the bard gave place to the art of the typographer, and the art of the preacher saw confronting it a formidable rival in that of the pamphleteer. similarly in the french revolution modern journalism, till then unimportant and sporadic, received its first great development, and began seriously to displace alike the preacher, the pamphlet, and the broadside. the flood of theological disquisitions, satires, dialogues, sermons, which now poured from every press in germany, overflowed into all classes of society. these writings are so characteristic of the time that it is worth while devoting a few pages to their consideration, the more especially because it will afford us the opportunity for considering other changes in that spirit of the age, partly diseased growths of decaying mediævalism, and partly the beginnings of the modern critical spirit, which also find expression in the literature of the reformation period. footnotes: [ ] see appendix b for this and an instance of a successful imposture. [ ] _sämmt. werke_, xxxiii., - . [ ] quoted in janssen, _ein zweites wort an meine kritiker_, , p. . [ ] _geschichte des deutschen volkes_, vol. ii., p. . [ ] quoted in janssen, bk. ii., . chapter iii. popular literature of the reformation. in accordance with the conventional view we have assumed in the preceding chapter that the reichstag at worms was a landmark in the history of the reformation. this is, however, only true as regards the political side of the movement. the popular feeling was really quite continuous, at least from to . with the latter year and the collapse of the peasant revolt a change is noticeable. in , the reformation as a great upstirring of the popular mind of central europe, in contradistinction to its character as an academic and purely political movement, reached high-water mark, and may almost be said to have exhausted itself. until the latter year it was purely a revolutionary movement, attracting to itself all the disruptive elements of its time. later, the reactionary possibilities within it declared themselves. the emancipation from the thraldom of the catholic hierarchy and its papal head, it was soon found, meant not emancipation from the arbitrary tyranny of the new political and centralising authorities then springing up, but, on the contrary, rather their consecration. the ultimate outcome, in fact, of the whole business was, as we shall see later on, the inculcation of the non-resistance theory as regards the civil power, and the clearing of the way for its extremest expression in the doctrine of the divine right of kings, a theory utterly alien to the belief and practice of the mediæval church. the reichstag of worms, by cutting off all possibility of reconciliation, rather gave further edge to the popular revolutionary side of the movement than otherwise. the whole progress of the change in public feeling is plainly traceable in the mass of ephemeral literature that has come down to us from this period, broadsides, pamphlets, satires, folksongs, and the rest. the anonymous literature to which we more especially refer is distinguished by its coarse brutality and humour, even in the writings of the reformers, which were themselves in no case remarkable for the suavity of their polemic. hutten, in some of his later vernacular poems, approaches the character of the less cultured broadside literature. to the critical mind it is somewhat amusing to note the enthusiasm with which the modern dissenting and puritan class contemplates the period of which we are writing,--an enthusiasm that would probably be effectively damped if the laudators of the reformation knew the real character of the movement and of its principal actors. the first attacks made by the broadside literature were naturally directed against the simony and benefice-grabbing of the clergy, a characteristic of the priestly office that has always powerfully appealed to the popular mind. thus the "courtisan and benefice-eater" attacks the parasite of the roman court, who absorbs ecclesiastical revenues wholesale, putting in perfunctory _locum tenens_ on the cheap, and begins:-- i'm fairly called a simonist and eke a courtisan, and here to every peasant and every common man my knavery will very well appear. i called and cried to all who'd give me ear, to nobleman and knight and all above me: "behold me! and ye'll find i'll truly love ye." in another we read:-- the paternoster teaches well how one for another his prayers should tell, thro' brotherly love and not for gold, and good those same prayers god doth hold. so too saith holy paul right clearly, each shall his brother's load bear dearly. but now, it declares, all that is changed. now we are being taught just the opposite of god's teachings:-- such doctrine hath the priests increased, whom men as masters now must feast, 'fore all the crowd of simonists, whose waxing number no man wists, the towns and thorps seem full of them, and in all lands they're seen with shame. their violence and knavery leave not a church or living free. a prose pamphlet, apparently published about the summer of , shortly after luther's excommunication, was the so-called "wolf song" (_wolf-gesang_), which paints the enemies of luther as wolves. it begins with a screed on the creation and fall of adam, and a dissertation on the dogma of the redemption; and then proceeds: "as one might say, dear brother, instruct me, for there is now in our times so great commotion in faith come upon us. there is one in saxony who is called luther, of whom many pious and honest folk tell how that he doth write so consolingly the good evangelical (_evangelische_) truth. but again i hear that the pope and the cardinals at rome have put him under the ban as a heretic; and certain of our own preachers, too, scold him from their pulpits as a knave, a misleader, and a heretic. i am utterly confounded, and know not where to turn; albeit my reason and heart do speak to me even as luther writeth. but yet again it bethinks me that when the pope, the cardinal, the bishop, the doctor, the monk and the priest, for the greater part are against him, and so that all save the common men and a few gentlemen, doctors, councillors and knights, are his adversaries, what shall i do?" "for answer, dear friend, get thee back and search the scriptures, and thou shalt find that so it hath gone with all the holy prophets even as it now fareth with doctor martin luther, who is in truth a godly christian and manly heart and only true pope and apostle, when he the true office of the apostles publicly fulfilleth.... if the godly man luther were pleasing to the world, that were indeed a true sign that his doctrine were not from god; for the word of god is a fiery sword, a hammer that breaketh in pieces the rocks, and not a fox's tail or a reed that may be bent according to our pleasure." seventeen noxious qualities of the wolf are adduced, his ravenousness, his cunning, his falseness, his cowardice, his thirst for robbery, amongst others. the popes, the cardinals and the bishops are compared to the wolves in all their attributes: "the greater his pomp and splendour, the more shouldst thou beware of such an one; for he is a wolf that cometh in the shape of a good shepherd's dog. beware! it is against the custom of christ and his apostles." it is again but the song of the wolves when they claim to mix themselves with worldly affairs and maintain the temporal supremacy. the greediness of the wolf is discernible in the means adopted to get money for the building of st. peter's. the interlocutor is warned against giving to mendicant priests and monks. in this strain is the pamphlet continued, reference being made to luther's dispute with eck, who is sometimes called dr. geck, that is, dr. fop. we have given this as a specimen of the almost purely theological pamphlet; although, as will have been evident, even this is directly connected with the material abuses from which the people were suffering. another pamphlet of about the same date deals with usury, the burden of which had been greatly increased by the growth of the new commercial combinations already referred to in the introduction, which combinations dr. eck had been defending at bologna on theological grounds, in order to curry favour with the augsburg merchant-prince, fuggerschwatz.[ ] it is called "concerning dues. hither comes a poor peasant to a rich citizen. a priest comes also thereby, and then a monk. full pleasant to read." a peasant visits a burgher when he is counting money, and asks him where he gets it all from. "my dear peasant," says the townsman, "thou askest me who gave me this money. i will tell thee. there cometh hither a peasant, and beggeth me to lend him ten or twenty gulden. thereupon i ask him an he possesseth not a goodly meadow or corn-field. 'yea! good sir!' saith he, 'i have indeed a good meadow and a good corn-field. the twain are worth a hundred gulden.' then say i to him: 'good, my friend, wilt thou pledge me thy holding? and an thou givest me one gulden of thy money every year i will lend thee twenty gulden now'. then is the peasant right glad, and saith he: 'willingly will i pledge it thee'. 'i will warn thee,' say i, 'that an thou furnishest not the one gulden of money each year. i will take thy holding for my own having.' therewith is the peasant well content, and writeth him down accordingly. i lend him the money; he payeth me one year, or may be twain, the due; thereafter can he no longer furnish it, and thereupon i take the holding, and drive away the peasant therefrom. thus i get the holding and the money. the same things do i with handicraftsmen. hath he a good house? he pledgeth that house until i bring it behind me. therewith gain i much in goods and money, and thus do i pass my days." "i thought," rejoined the peasant, "that 'twere only the jew who did usury, but i hear that ye also ply that trade." the burgher answers that interest is not usury, to which the peasant replies that interest (_gült_) is only a "subtle name". the burgher then quotes scripture, as commanding men to help one another. the peasant readily answers that in doing this they have no right to get advantage from the assistance they proffer. "thou art a good fellow!" says the townsman. "if i take no money for the money that i lend, how shall i then increase my hoard?" the peasant then reproaches him that he sees well that his object in life is to wax fat on the substance of others; "but i tell thee, indeed," he says, "that it is a great and heavy sin". whereupon his opponent waxes wroth, and will have nothing more to do with him, threatening to kick him out in the name of a thousand devils; but the peasant returns to the charge, and expresses his opinion that rich men do not willingly hear the truth. a priest now enters, and to him the townsman explains the dispute. "dear peasant," says the priest, "wherefore camest thou hither, that thou shouldst make of a due[ ] usury? may not a man buy with his money what he will?" but the peasant stands by his previous assertion, demanding how anything can be considered as bought which is only a pledge. "we priests," replies the ecclesiastic, "must perforce lend money for dues, since thereby we get our living;" to which, after sundry ejaculations of surprise, the peasant retorts: "who gave to you the power? i well hear ye have another god than we poor people. we have our lord jesus christ, who hath forbidden such money-lending for gain." hence it comes, he goes on, that land is no longer free; to attempt to whitewash usury under the name of due or interest, he says, is just the same as if one were to call a child christened friedrich or hansel, fritz or hans, and then maintain it was no longer the same child. they require no more jews, he says, since the christians have taken their business in hand. the townsman is once more about to turn the peasant out of his house, when a monk enters. he then lays the matter before the new-comer, who promises to talk the peasant over with soft words; for, says he, there is nothing accomplished with vainglory. he thereupon takes him aside and explains it to him by the illustration of a merchant whose gain on the wares he sells is not called usury, and argues that therefore other forms of gain in business should not be described by this odious name. but the peasant will have none of this comparison; for the merchant, he says, needs to incur much risk in order to gain and traffic with his wares; while money-lending on security is, on the other hand, without risk or labour, and is a treacherous mode of cheating. finding that they can make nothing of the obstinate countryman, the others leave him; but he, as a parting shot, exclaims: "ah, well-a-day! i would to have talked with thee at first, but it is now ended. farewell, gracious sir, and my other kind sirs. i, poor little peasant, i go my way. farewell, farewell, due remains usury for evermore. yea, yea! due, indeed!" one more example will suffice to give the reader an idea of the character of these first specimens of pamphlet literature; and this time it shall be taken from the widely-read anonymous tract entitled "der karsthans". [the man who wields the hoe, that is, the peasant.] this production is specially directed against the monk, murner, who had at first, as already stated, endeavoured to sit on the fence, admitting certain abuses in the church, but who before long took sides against luther and the reformation, becoming, in fact, after the disputation with eck, the author of a series of polemical writings against the hero of the reformation. the most important of these appeared in the autumn of ; and the "karsthans" is the answer to them from the popular side of the movement. on the title-page murner is depicted as a monk with a cat's head; and in the dialogue there are five _dramatis personæ_, karsthans, murner, luther, a student, and mercury, the latter interjecting sarcastic remarks in latin. murner begins by mewing like a cat. karsthans, the peasant, and his son, the student, listen, and describe to each other the manners and characters of cats, especially their slyness and cunning. the son at the bidding of his father is about to pelt the cat with stones, but comes back, saying: "oh, father! what a loathsome beast! it is no true cat, though it looketh to be one. it waxeth even greater and greater. its hue is grey, and it hath a wondrous head." as the father, karsthans, is seeking his flail that he may annihilate the beast, his son discovers that it is human, at which the father exclaims: "it is a devil!" they advance towards it, and discover it to be a churchman. "i am a clerk and more than a clerk," cries murner in anger. "i am eke a man and a monk." karsthans asks pardon; but murner threatens him, and, as the monk grows more exasperated, the son exhorts the father to modesty in the presence of so exalted a spiritual personage. "oh, father!" cries the son, "it is indeed a great man. i have read his title. he is a poet, who hath been crowned with the laurel wreath, and is a doctor in both disciplines, and also in the holy scriptures. moreover, he is one of the free regular clergy, and is called thomas murner of strassburg." some chaff follows between the father and son as to all the monk's spirituality residing in his garb. this gives rise to a quarrel between karsthans and murner, in which the student again exhorts his father to moderation in his language, on the ground that murner is a good jurist. karsthans demands how it is compatible to be spiritual in the cloister and cunning in the world, to which murner replies: _incompatibilia auctoritate papæ unici possunt._ ("incompatibles can be made to agree by the authority of the pope.") karsthans, who calls this a lie, is roundly abused by murner: "thou boorish clown, _injustum est ut monachis operandibus servi eorum otio torpeunt_". ("it is unjust that while monks are working, their servants should slumber in idleness.") "yea, truly!" answers karsthans, "ye stink of secrets." during the dispute luther enters. "ah!" exclaims murner, "doth that fellow come? there are too many people here. let me go out by the back." karsthans wonders at murner's attitude, as in a general way the churches were glad to meet each other, and as luther was everywhere recognised as a good man and a pious christian. murner begs karsthans not to reveal him, as he is pledged to regard luther as a heretic, and he is determined to prove him one. karsthans wants to know why he does not dispute personally with luther like "dr. genzkuss," meaning eck, in leipzig. "but, father," interposes the son, "dr. eck, as some say, hath not won for himself much honour or victory over luther." karsthans is amazed, and replies: "but yet he hath so cried out and fought that scarce an one might speak before him." "he hath also," the student observes, "received ducats from the pope for his works; and," he adds, "if dr. eckius had overcome luther, as he hath been overcome by him, he (that is, the pope) would have made of him a camel with broad hoofs," the latter being a current phrase to indicate a cardinal; "and murner also hopes to pluck some feathers out of the crow, like eck." luther knocks again, and murner tries to get away, but karsthans holds him back. after sundry pleasantries between karsthans and murner, in the course of which the monk advises the peasant to go to the bookseller, grüninger, in strassburg, and buy his two books, the one on "baptism," and the other entitled "a christian and brotherly warning." murner takes his leave, and luther enters. on karsthans wanting to know what brings him to germany, he replies: "the simplicity of the german people--to wit, that they are of so small an understanding. what any man feigns and lies to them, that they at once believe, and think no further of the matter. therefore are they so much deceived, and a laughing stock for other peoples." the student reminds his father that murner had declared luther to be a heretic. karsthans thereupon again seeks his flail; but luther demands impartiality. since he had heard murner he should hear him also. karsthans agrees; but the son objects, as the dominicans and doctors in cologne, especially hochstraten,[ ] had said that it was dangerous to dispute with or give ear to such people, since even the _ketzermeister_ (refuters of heretics) often came off second best in the contest; as in the case of dr. reuchlin, who in spite of their condemnation had been exonerated by rome, and the papal sentence against him revoked. "and again what a miracle happened in the th year at mainz! there came a legate from rome, who was to see that luther's books were thoroughly burnt; and while all were awaiting the issue at the appointed place, the hangman asked whether judgment had been given that the books should be burnt; and since no one could tell him the truth, the careless fellow would not execute the sentence, and went his way. oh! what great shame and ignominy was shown to the legate! and since he was not willing to bear the shame, he must persuade the hangman with cunning and presents that he should the next day burn two or four little books. i had thought," concluded the student, "that he had not need to have asked further in the face of the pope's legate and strict command, and of the heretic-confuter's office." karsthans is indignant, and threatens every "rascal from rome" with his flail; to which the student rejoins: "oh, father! thou thinkest it is with the pope's power as with thy headship in the village which thou hast, where thou canst not of thy will act a straw's breadth except with the knowledge and consent of thy neighbours, who are all vile peasants, and who think there will be sore trouble if they judge other than as witness-bearing dictateth. but it is not so with the pope; ofttimes it is: _sic volumus, sic jubemus, oportet; sufficit, vicisse._ ("as we will, as we command, so let it be; it sufficeth to have prevailed.") karsthans requires that if the pope has divine power, he should also do divine works; whereas the student defends the absolute power of the pope and the bishops. he complains that his father is an enemy of the priests, like all the rest of the peasants. karsthans rejoins that there are four propositions on which the whole controversy turns: "thou art peter; on st. peter i will build my church. feed my sheep. what i bid you, that do ye. he who despiseth you, despiseth me also." he then demands of luther that he should write in the german tongue, and let them see whether they could not save him from the power of the pope and from the wearers of broad-brimmed hats. but luther declines such help, and thereupon departs. karsthans is offended that the pope is called by his son, the student, the highest authority of the christian faith. "for," says he, "christ alone is this authority. he is the only bridegroom, and the bride can know no other. else were she impure and wrinkled, and not a pure bride. moreover, the bride is not at variance with her bridegroom, but with the pope she is well-nigh always at variance. that which one will, the other will not. furthermore, the bride is spiritual, but this roman is bodily and worldly." the student answers: "the bridegroom hath given the bride a bodily head," a point which the peasant disputes, while admitting it may be good to have spiritual and carnal authority; "but," says he, "christ has called to this office not only one but all the apostles," and he enlarges on the difference between this and the scramble for office then apparent in the state. the student again remonstrates with his peasant father for his unceremonious treatment of the learned man; and, at the same time, he blames luther for attacking certain articles of the christian faith, which all men ought to hold sacred. karsthans wants to know if he refers to the dogma of the trinity. this the student denies, saying that it is no such thing as that, or any other question which the theologians seek to prick with the point of a needle. he finally admits that he is referring to the question of the supremacy of the pope, affirming that it "were a deadly sin to believe that the pope had stood one quarter of an hour in deadly sin. item, that the pope alone shall interpret the right sense and meaning of the scriptures, and shall alone have full power, not only on earth, but also in purgatory." the student then proceeds to quote the various credos, the athanasian, the nicene, and so forth; till at last karsthans bursts out: "look you now! if you make it so, the articles of faith will at last be a great bookful.... the pious doctor, martin luther, doth teach aright: 'rest thy faith on christ alone, and therewith hath the matter an end'." karsthans, in addition, proceeds to uphold the right of the common man to his own interpretation of the articles of faith, maintaining the appeal to holy writ against all ecclesiastical authority; "for by the scripture one knoweth unfailingly at all time whether such authority do rule righteously or not, since the scripture is the true article of covenant which christ hath left us". the dispute continues, with occasional interjections in latin by mercury, in his capacity as cynical chorus, till karsthans gets very rude indeed, accuses the absent murner of having lice in his cowl, calls him an evil cat that licks before and scratches behind, and demands why he dare not go to wittenberg to dispute with dr. martin luther, as eck had just done. then with an _aldi, ich far dahin_, equivalent to the modern english, "well, i'm off," from the peasant, a _dii secundent_ from mercury, and an _uterque valeat_ from the student, the party separates, and the dialogue comes to an end. we have given a somewhat lengthy account of this dialogue, on account of its importance, even at the risk of wearying the reader. its drastic assertion of the right of the common man to independence of his superiors in spiritual matters, with its side hints and suggestions justifying resistance to all authority that had become oppressive, was not without its effects on the social movements of the following years. for the reader who wishes to further study this literature we give the titles, which sufficiently indicate their contents, of a selection of other similar pamphlets and broadsheets: "a new epistle from the evil clergy sent to their righteous lord, with an answer from their lord. most merry to read" ( ). "a great prize which the prince of hell, hight lucifer, now offereth to the clergy, to the pope, bishops, cardinals, and their like" ( ). "a written call, made by the prince of hell to his dear devoted, of all and every condition in his kingdom" ( ). "dialogue or converse of the apostolicum, angelica, and other spices of the druggist, anent dr. martin luther and his disciples" ( ). "a very pleasant dialogue and remonstrance from the sheriff of gaissdorf and his pupil against the pastor of the same and his assistant" ( ). the popularity of "karsthans" amongst the people is illustrated by the publication and wide distribution of a new "karsthans" a few months later, in which it is sought to show that the knighthood should make common cause with the peasants, the _dramatis personæ_ being karsthans and franz von sickingen. referring to the same subject we find a "dialogue which franciscus von sickingen held fore heaven's gate with st. peter and the knights of st. george before he was let in". this was published in , almost immediately after the death of sickingen. "a talk between a nobleman, a monk, and a courtier" ( ). "a talk between a fox and a wolf" ( ). "a pleasant dialogue between dr. martin luther and the cunning messenger from hell" ( ). "a conversation of the pope with his cardinals of how it goeth with him, and how he may destroy the word of god. let every man very well note" ( ). "a christian and merry talk, that it is more pleasing to god and more wholesome for men to come out of the monasteries and to marry, than to tarry therein and to burn; which talk is not with human folly and the false teachings thereof, but is founded alone in the holy, divine, biblical and evangelical scripture" ( ). "a pleasant dialogue of a peasant with a monk that he should cast his cowl from him. merry and fair to read" ( ). the above is only a selection of specimens taken hap-hazard from the mass of fugitive literature which the early years of the reformation brought forth. in spite of a certain rough but not unattractive directness of diction, a prolonged reading of them is very tedious, as will have been sufficiently seen from the extracts we have given. their humour is of a particularly juvenile and obvious character, and consists almost entirely in the childish device of clothing the personages with ridiculous but non-essential attributes, or in placing them in grotesque but pointless situations. of the more subtle humour, which consists in the discovery of real but hidden incongruities, and the perception of what is innately absurd, there is no trace. the obvious abuses of the time are satirised in this way _ad nauseam_. the rapacity of the clergy in general, the idleness and lasciviousness of the monks, the pomp and luxury of the prince-prelates, the inconsistencies of church traditions and practices with scripture, with which they could now be compared, since it was everywhere circulated in the vulgar tongue, form their never-ending theme. they reveal to the reader a state of things that strikes one none the less in english literature of the period,--the intense interest of all classes in theological matters. it shows us how they looked at all things through a theological lens. although we have left this phase of popular thought so recently behind us, we can even now scarcely imagine ourselves back into it. the idea of ordinary men, or of the vast majority, holding their religion as anything else than a very pious opinion absolutely unconnected with their daily life, public or private, has already become almost inconceivable to us. in all the writings of the time, the theological interest is in the forefront. the economic and social ground-work only casually reveals itself. this it is that makes the reading of the sixteenth century polemics so insufferably jejune and dreary. they bring before us the ghosts of controversies in which most men have ceased to take any part, albeit they have not been dead and forgotten long enough to have acquired a revived antiquarian interest. it reminds one of the faint echoes of the doctrinal disputes of a generation ago, which, already dying on the continent of europe, still continued to agitate the english middle classes of all ranks, and are remembered now with but a smile at their immense puerility. the great bomb-shell which luther cast forth on the th of june, , in his address to the german nobility,[ ] indeed contains strong appeals to the economical and political necessities of germany, and therein we see the veil torn from the half-unconscious motives that lay behind the theological mask; but, as already said, in the popular literature, with a few exceptions, the theological controversy rules undisputed. the noticeable feature of all this irruption of the _cacoëthes scribendi_ was the direct appeal to the bible for the settlement not only of strictly theological controversies but of points of social and political ethics also. this practice, which even to the modern protestant seems insipid and played out after three centuries and a half of wear, had at that time the to us inconceivable charm of novelty; and the perusal of the literature and controversies of the time shows that men used it with all the delight of a child with a new toy, and seemed never tired of the game of searching out texts to justify their position. the diffusion of the whole bible in the vernacular, itself a consequence of the rebellion against priestly tradition and the authority of the fathers, intensified the revolt by making the pastime possible to all ranks of society. footnotes: [ ] see appendix c. [ ] we use the word "due" here for the german word _gült_. the corresponding english of the time does not make any distinction between _gült_ or interest, and _wucher_ or usury. [ ] hochstraten was one of the great adversaries of reuchlin. [ ] "an den christlichen adel deutscher nation." chapter iv. the folklore of the reformation. now in the hands of all men, the bible was not made the basis of doctrinal opinions alone. it lent its support to many of the popular superstitions of the time, and in addition it served as the starting point for new superstitions and for new developments of the older ones. the pan-dæmonism of the new testament, with its wonder-workings by devilish agencies, its exorcisms of evil spirits and the like, could not fail to have a deep effect on the popular mind. the authority that the book believed to be divinely inspired necessarily lent to such beliefs gave a vividness to the popular conception of the devil and his angels, which is apparent throughout the whole movement of the reformation, and not least in the utterances of the great luther himself. indeed, with the reformation there comes a complete change over the popular conception of the devil and diabolical influences. it is true that the judicial pursuit of witches and witchcraft, in the earlier middle ages only a sporadic incident, received a great impulse from the bull of pope innocent viii. ( ), to which has been given the title of "malleus maleficorum," or "the hammer of witchcraft," directed against the practice of sorcery; but it was especially amongst the men of the new spirit that the belief in the prevalence of compacts with the devil, and the necessity for suppressing them, took root, and led to the horrible persecutions that distinguished the "reformed" churches on the whole even more than the catholic. luther himself had a vivid belief, tinging all his views and actions, in the ubiquity of the devil and his myrmidons. "the devils," says he, "are near us, and do cunningly contrive every moment without ceasing against our life, our salvation, and our blessedness.... in woods, waters, and wastes, and in damp, marshy places, there are many devils that seek to harm men. in the black and thick clouds, too, there are some that make storms, hail, lightning, and thunder, that poison the air and the pastures. when such things happen, the philosophers and the physicians ascribe them to the stars, and show i know not what causes for such misfortunes and plagues." luther relates numerous instances of personal encounters that he himself had had with the devil. a nobleman invited him, with other learned men from the university of wittenberg, to take part in a hare hunt. a large, fine hare and a fox crossed the path. the nobleman, mounted on a strong, healthy steed, dashed after them, when, suddenly, his horse fell dead beneath him, and the fox and the hare flew up in the air and vanished. "for," says luther, "they were devilish spectres." again, on another occasion, he was at eisleben on the occasion of another hare-hunt, when the nobleman succeeded in killing eight hares, which were, on their return home, duly hung up for the next day's meal. on the following morning, horses' heads were found in their place. "in mines," says luther, "the devil oftentimes deceives men with a false appearance of gold." all disease and all misfortune were the direct work of the devil; god, who was all good, could not produce either. luther gives a long history of how he was called to a parish priest, who complained of the devil's having created a disturbance in his house by throwing the pots and pans about, and so forth, and of how he advised the priest to exorcise the fiend by invoking his own authority as a pastor of the church. at the wartburg, luther complained of having been very much troubled by the satanic arts. when he was at work upon his translation of the bible, or upon his sermons, or engaged in his devotions, the devil was always making disturbances on the stairs or in the room. one day, after a hard spell of study, he lay down to sleep in his bed, when the devil began pelting him with hazel nuts, a sack of which had been brought to him a few hours before by an attendant. he invoked, however, the name of christ, and lay down again in bed. there were other more curious and more doubtful recipes for driving away satan and his emissaries. luther is never tired of urging that contemptuous treatment and rude chaff are among the most efficacious methods. there was, he relates, a poor soothsayer, to whom the devil came in visible form, and offered great wealth provided that he would deny christ and never more do penance. the devil provided him with a crystal, by which he could foretell events, and thus become rich. this he did; but nemesis awaited him, for the devil deceived him one day, and caused him to denounce certain innocent persons as thieves. in consequence, he was thrown into prison, where he revealed the compact that he had made, and called for a confessor. the two chief forms in which the devil appeared were, according to luther, those of a snake and a sheep. he further goes into the question of the population of devils in different countries. on the top of the pilatus at luzern is a black pond, which is one of the devil's favourite abodes. in luther's own country there is also a high mountain, the poltersberg, with a similar pond. when a stone is thrown into this pond, a great tempest arises, which often devastates the whole neighbourhood. he also alleges prussia to be full of evil spirits. devilish changelings, luther said, were often placed by satan in the cradles of human children. "some maids he often plunges into the water, and keeps them with him until they have borne a child." these children are placed in the beds of mortals, and the true children are taken out and hurried away. "but," he adds, "such changelings are said not to live more than to the eighteenth or nineteenth year." as a practical application of this, it may be mentioned that luther advised the drowning of a certain child of twelve years old, on the ground of its being a devil's changeling. somnambulism is, with luther, the result of diabolical agency. "formerly," says he, "the papists, being superstitious people, alleged that persons thus afflicted had not been properly baptised, or had been baptised by a drunken priest." the irony of the reference to superstition, considering the "great reformer's" own position, will not be lost upon the reader. thus, not only is the devil the cause of pestilence, but he is also the immediate agent of nightmare and of nightsweats. at mölburg in thüringen, near erfurt, a piper, who was accustomed to pipe at weddings, complained to his priest that the devil had threatened to carry him away and destroy him, on the ground of a practical joke played upon some companions, to wit, for having mixed horse-dung with their wine at a drinking bout. the priest consoled him with many passages of scripture anent the devil and his ways, with the result that the piper expressed himself satisfied as regarded the welfare of his soul, but apprehensive as regarded that of his body, which was, he asserted, hopelessly the prey of the devil. in consequence of this, he insisted on partaking of the sacrament. the devil had indicated to him when he was going to be fetched, and watchers were accordingly placed in his room, who sat in their armour and with their weapons, and read the bible to him. finally, one saturday at midnight, a violent storm arose, that blew out the lights in the room, and hurled the luckless victim out of a narrow window into the street. the sound of fighting and of armed men was heard, but the piper had disappeared. the next morning he was found in a neighbouring ditch, with his arms stretched out in the form of a cross, dead and coal-black. luther vouches for the truth of this story, which he alleges to have been told him by a parish priest of gotha, who had himself heard it from the parish priest of mölburg, where the event was said to have taken place. amongst the numerous anecdotes of a supernatural character told by "dr. martin" is one of a "poltergeist," or "robin goodfellow," who was exorcised by two monks from the guest-chamber of an inn, and who offered his services to them in the monastery. they gave him a corner in the kitchen. the serving-boy used to torment him by throwing dirty water over him. after unavailing protests, the spirit hung the boy up to a beam, but let him down again before serious harm resulted. luther states that this "brownie" was well known by sight in the neighbouring town (the name of which he does not give). but by far the larger number of his stories, which, be it observed, are warranted as ordinary occurrences, as to the possibility of which there was no question, are coloured by that more sinister side of supernaturalism so much emphasised by the new theology. the mediæval devil was, for the most part, himself little more than a prankish rübezahl, or robin goodfellow; the new satan of the reformers was, in very deed, an arch-fiend, the enemy of the human race, with whom no truce or parley might be held. the old folklore belief in _incubi_ and _succubi_ as the parents of changelings is brought into connection with the theory of direct diabolic begettal. thus luther relates how friedrich, the elector of saxony, told him of a noble family that had sprung from a _succubus_: "just," says he, "as the melusina at luxembourg was also such a _succubus_, or devil". in the case referred to, the _succubus_ assumed the shape of the man's dead wife, and lived with him and bore him children, until, one day, he swore at her, when she vanished, leaving only her clothes behind. after giving it as his opinion that all such beings and their offspring are wiles of the devil, he proceeds: "it is truly a grievous thing that the devil can so plague men that he begetteth children in their likeness. it is even so with the nixies in the water, that lure a man therein, in the shape of wife or maid, with whom he doth dally and begetteth offspring of them." the change whereby the beings of the old naive folklore are transformed into the devil or his agents is significant of that darker side of the new theology, which was destined to issue in those horrors of the witchcraft-mania that reached their height at the beginning of the following century. one more story of a "changeling" before we leave the subject. luther gives us the following as having come to his knowledge near halberstadt, in saxony. a peasant had a baby, who sucked out its mother and five nurses, besides eating a great deal. concluding that it was a changeling, the peasant sought the advice of his neighbours, who suggested that he should take it on a pilgrimage to a neighbouring shrine of the mother of god. while he was crossing a brook on the way, an impish voice from under the water called out to the infant, whom he was carrying in a basket. the brat answered from within the basket, "ho, ho!" and the peasant was unspeakably shocked. when the voice from the water proceeded to ask the child what it was after, and received the answer from the hitherto inarticulate babe that it was going to be laid on the shrine of the mother of god, to the end that it might prosper, the peasant could stand it no longer, and flung basket and baby into the brook. the changeling and the little devil played for a few moments with each other, rolling over and over, and crying "ho, ho, ho!" and then they disappeared together. luther says that these devilish brats may be generally known by their eating and drinking too much, and especially by their exhausting their mother's milk, but they may not develop any certain signs of their true parentage until eighteen or nineteen years old. the princess of anhalt had a child which luther imagined to be a changeling, and he therefore advised its being drowned, alleging that such creatures were only lumps of flesh animated by the devil or his angels. some one spoke of a monster which infested the netherlands, and which went about smelling at people like a dog, and whoever it smelt died. but those that were smelt did not see it, albeit the bystanders did. the people had recourse to vigils and masses. luther improved the occasion to protest against the "superstition" of masses for the dead, and to insist upon his favourite dogma of faith as the true defence against assaults of the devil. among the numerous stories of satanic compacts, we are told of a monk who ate up a load of hay, of a debtor who bit off the leg of his hebrew creditor and ran off to avoid payment, and of a woman who bewitched her husband so that he vomited lizards. luther observes, with especial reference to this last case, that lawyers and judges were far too pedantic with their witnesses and with their evidence; that the devil hardens his clients against torture, and that the refusal to confess under torture ought to be of itself sufficient proof of dealings with the prince of darkness. "towards such," says he, "we should show no mercy; i would burn them myself." black magic or witchcraft he proceeds to characterise as the greatest sin a human being can be guilty of, as, in fact, high treason against god himself--_crimen læsæ majestatis divinæ_. the conversation closes with a story of how maximilian's father, the emperor friedrich, who seems to have obtained a reputation for magic arts, invited a well-known magician to a banquet, and on his arrival fixed claws on his hands and hoofs on his feet by his cunning. his guest, being ashamed, tried to hide the claws under the table as long as he could, but finally he had to show them, to his great discomfiture. but he determined to have his revenge, and asked his host whether he would permit him to give proofs of his own skill. the emperor assenting, there at once arose a great noise outside the window. friedrich sprang up from the table, and leaned out of the casement to see what was the matter. immediately an enormous pair of stag's horns appeared on his head, so that he could not draw it back. finding the state of the case, the emperor exclaimed: "rid me of them again! thou hast won!" luther's comment on this was that he was always glad to see one devil getting the best of another, as it showed that some were stronger than others. all this belongs, roughly speaking, to the side of the matter which regards popular theology; but there is another side which is connected more especially with the new learning. this other school, which sought to bring the somewhat elastic elements of the magical theory of the universe into the semblance of a systematic whole, is associated with such names as those of paracelsus, cornelius agrippa, and the abbot von trittenheim. the fame of the first named was so great throughout germany that when he visited any town the occasion was looked upon as an event of exceeding importance.[ ] paracelsus fully shared in the beliefs of his age, in spite of his brilliant insights on certain occasions. what his science was like may be imagined when we learn that he seriously speaks of animals who conceive through the mouth, of basilisks whose glance is deadly, of petrified storks changed into snakes, of the stillborn young of the lion which are afterwards brought to life by the roar of their sire, of frogs falling in a shower of rain, of ducks transformed into frogs, and of men born from beasts; the menstruation of women he regarded as a venom whence proceeded flies, spiders, earwigs, and all sorts of loathsome vermin; night was caused, not by the absence of the sun, but by the presence of the stars, which were the positive cause of the darkness. he relates having seen a magnet capable of attracting the eyeball from its socket as far as the tip of the nose; he knows of salves to close the mouth so effectually that it has to be broken open again by mechanical means, and he writes learnedly on the infallible signs of witchcraft. by mixing horse-dung with human semen he believed he was able to produce a medium from which, by chemical treatment in a retort, a diminutive human being, or _homunculus_, as he called it, could be produced. the spirits of the elements, the sylphs of the air, the gnomes of the earth, the salamanders of the fire, and the undines of the water, were to him real and undoubted existences in nature. strange as all these beliefs seem to us now, they were a very real factor in the intellectual conceptions of the renaissance period, no less than of the middle ages, and amidst them there is to be found at times a foreshadowing of more modern knowledge. many other persons were also more or less associated with the magical school, amongst them franz von sickingen. reuchlin himself, by his hebrew studies, and especially by his introduction of the kabbala to gentile readers, also contributed a not unimportant influence in determining the course of the movement. the line between the so-called black magic, or operations conducted through the direct agency of evil spirits, and white magic, which sought to subject nature to the human will by the discovery of her mystical and secret laws, or the character of the quasi-personified intelligent principles under whose form nature presented herself to their minds, had never throughout the middle ages been very clearly defined. the one always had a tendency to shade off into the other, so that even roger bacon's practices were, although not condemned, at least looked upon somewhat doubtfully by the church. at the time of which we treat, however, the interest in such matters had become universal amongst all intelligent persons. the scientific imagination at the close of the middle ages and during the renaissance period was mainly occupied with three questions: the discovery of the means of transmuting the baser metals into gold, or otherwise of producing that object of universal desire; to discover the elixir vitæ, by which was generally understood the invention of a drug which would have the effect of curing all diseases, restoring man to perennial youth, and, in short, prolonging human life indefinitely; and, finally, the search for the philosopher's stone, the happy possessor of which would not only be able to achieve the first two, but also, since it was supposed to contain the quintessence of all the metals, and therefore of all the planetary influences to which the metals corresponded, would have at his command all the forces which mould the destinies of men. in especial connection with the latter object of research may be noted the universal interest in astrology, whose practitioners were to be found at every court, from that of the emperor himself to that of the most insignificant prince or princelet, and whose advice was sought and carefully heeded on all important occasions. alchemy and astrology were thus the recognised physical sciences of the age, under the auspices of which a copernicus and a tycho brahe were born and educated. footnotes: [ ] _cf._ sebastian franck, _chronica_, for an account of a visit of paracelsus to nürnberg. chapter v. the german town. from what has been said the reader may form for himself an idea of the intellectual and social life of the german town of the period. the wealthy patrician class, whose mainstay politically was the _rath_, gave the social tone to the whole. in spite of the sharp and sometimes brutal fashion in which class distinctions asserted themselves then, as throughout the middle ages, there was none of that aloofness between class and class which characterises the bourgeois society of the present day. each town, were it great or small, was a little world in itself, so that every citizen knew every other citizen more or less. the schools attached to its ecclesiastical institutions were practically free of access to all the children whose parents could find the means to maintain them during their studies; and consequently the intellectual differences between the different classes were by no means necessarily proportionate to the difference in social position. so far as culture and material prosperity were concerned, the towns of bavaria and franconia, munich, augsburg, regensburg, and perhaps above all nürnberg, represented the high-water mark of mediæval civilisation as regards town-life. on entering the burg, should it have happened to be in time of peace and in daylight, the stranger would clear the drawbridge and the portcullis without much challenge, passing along streets lined with the houses and shops of the burghers, in whose open frontages the master and his apprentices and _gesellen_ plied their trades, discussing eagerly over their work the politics of the town, and at this period probably the theological questions which were uppermost in men's minds, our visitor would make his way to some hostelry, in whose courtyard he would dismount from his horse, and, entering the common room, or _stube_, with its rough but artistic furniture of carved oak, partake of his flagon of wine or beer, according to the district in which he was travelling, whilst the host cracked a rough and possibly coarse jest with the other guests, or narrated to them the latest gossip of the city. the stranger would probably find himself before long the object of interrogatories respecting his native place and the object of his journey (although his dress would doubtless have given general evidence of this), whether he were a merchant or a travelling scholar or a practiser of medicine; for into one of these categories it might be presumed the humble but not servile traveller would fall. were he on a diplomatic mission from some potentate he would be travelling at the least as a knight or a noble, with spurs and armour, and moreover would be little likely to lodge in a public house of entertainment. in the _stube_ he would probably see drinking heavily, representatives of the ubiquitous _landsknechte_, the mercenary troops enrolled for imperial purposes by the emperor maximilian towards the end of the previous century, who in the intervals of war were disbanded and wandered about spending their pay, and thus constituted an excessively disintegrative element in the life of the time. a contemporary writer[ ] describes them as the curse of germany, and stigmatises them as "unchristian, god-forsaken folk, whose hand is ever ready in striking, stabbing, robbing, burning, slaying, gaming, who delight in wine-bibbing, whoring, blaspheming, and in the making of widows and orphans". presently perhaps a noise without indicates the arrival of a new guest. all hurry forth into the courtyard, and their curiosity is more keenly whetted when they perceive by the yellow knitted scarf round the neck of the new-comer that he is an _itinerans scholasticus_, or travelling scholar, who brings with him not only the possibility of news from the outer world, so important in an age when journals were non-existent, and communications irregular and deficient, but also a chance of beholding wonder-workings, as well as of being cured of the ailments which local skill had treated in vain. already surrounded by a crowd of admirers waiting for the words of wisdom to fall from his lips, he would start on that exordium which bore no little resemblance to the patter of the modern quack, albeit interlarded with many a latin quotation and great display of mediæval learning. "good people and worthy citizens of this town," he might say, "behold in me the great master ... prince of necromancers, astrologer, second mage, chiromancer, agromancer, pyromancer, hydromancer. my learning is so profound that were all the works of plato and aristotle lost to the world, i could from memory restore them with more elegance than before. the miracles of christ were not so great as those which i can perform wherever and as often as i will. of all alchemists i am the first, and my powers are such that i can obtain all things that man desires. my shoebuckles contain more learning than the heads of galen and avicenna, and my beard has more experience than all your high schools. i am monarch of all learning. i can heal you of all diseases. by my secret arts i can procure you wealth. i am the philosopher of philosophers. i can provide you with spells to bind the most potent of the devils in hell. i can cast your nativities and foretell all that shall befall you, since i have that which can unlock the secrets of all things that have been, that are, and that are to come."[ ] bringing forth strange-looking phials, covered with cabalistic signs, a crystal globe and an astrolabe, followed by an imposing scroll of parchment inscribed with mysterious hebraic-looking characters, the travelling student would probably drive a roaring trade amongst the assembled townsmen in love-philtres, cures for the ague and the plague, and amulets against them, horoscopes, predictions of fate and the rest of his stock-in-trade. as evening approaches, our traveller strolls forth into the streets and narrow lanes of the town, lined with overhanging gables that almost meet overhead and shut out the light of the afternoon sun, so that twilight seems already to have fallen. observing that the burghers, with their wives and children, the work of the day being done, are all wending toward the western gate, he goes along with the stream till, passing underneath the heavy portcullis and through the outer rampart, he finds himself in the plain outside, across which a rugged bridle-path leads to a large quadrangular meadow, rough and more or less worn, where a considerable crowd has already assembled. this is the _allerwiese_, or public pleasure ground of the town. here there are not only high festivities on sundays and holidays, but every fine evening in summer numbers of citizens gather together to watch the apprentices exercising their strength in athletic feats, and competing with one another in various sports, such as running, wrestling, spear-throwing, sword-play, and the like, wherein the inferior rank sought to imitate and even emulate the knighthood, whilst the daughters of the city watched their progress with keen interest and applauding laughter. as the shadows deepen and darkness falls upon the plain, our visitor joins the groups which are now fast leaving the meadow, and repasses the great embrasure just as the rushlights begin to twinkle in the windows, and a swinging oil-lamp to cast a dim light here and there in the streets. but as his company passes out of a narrow lane debouching on to the chief market-place their progress is stopped by the sudden rush of a mingled crowd of unruly apprentices and journeymen returning from their sports, with hot heads well beliquored. then from another side street there is a sudden flare of torches borne aloft by guildsmen come out to quell the tumult and to send off the apprentices to their dwellings, whilst the watch also bears down and carries off some of the more turbulent of the journeymen to pass the night in one of the towers which guard the city wall. at last, however, the visitor reaches his inn by the aid of a friendly guildsman and his torch; and retiring to his chamber with its straw-covered floor, rough oaken bedstead, hard mattress, and coverings not much better than horsecloths, he falls asleep as the bell of the minster tolls out ten o'clock over the now dark and silent city. such approximately would have been the view of a german city in the sixteenth century as presented to a traveller in a time of peace. more stirring times, however, were as frequent,--times when the tocsin rang out from the steeple all night long, calling the citizens to arms. by such scenes, needless to say, the year of the peasant war was more than usually characterised. in the days when every man carried arms and knew how to use them, when the fighting instinct was imbibed with the mother's milk, when every week saw some street brawl, often attended by loss of life, and that by no means always among the most worthless and dissolute of the inhabitants, every dissatisfaction immediately turned itself into an armed revolt, whether it were of the apprentices or the journeymen against the guild-masters, the body of the townsmen against the patriciate, the town itself against its feudal superior, where it had one, or of the knighthood against the princes. the extremity to which disputes can at present be carried without resulting in a breach of the peace, as evinced in modern political and trade conflicts, exacerbated though some of them are, was a thing unknown in the middle ages, and indeed to any considerable extent until comparatively recent times. the sacred right of insurrection was then a recognised fact of life, and but very little straining of a dispute led to a resort to arms. in the subsequent chapters we have to deal with the more important of those outbursts to which the ferment due to the dissolution of the mediæval system of things, then beginning throughout central europe, gave rise, of which the religious side is represented by what is known as the reformation. footnotes: [ ] sebastian franck, _chronica_, ccxvii. [ ] _cf._ trittheim's letter to wirdung of hasfurt regarding faust. _j. tritthemii epistolarum familiarum_, , bk. ii., ep. ; also the works of paracelsus. chapter vi. the revolt of the knighthood. we have already pointed out in more than one place the position to which the smaller nobility, or the knighthood, had been reduced by the concatenation of causes which was bringing about the dissolution of the old mediæval order of things, and, as a consequence, ruining the knights both economically and politically:--economically by the rise of capitalism as represented by the commercial syndicates of the cities; by the unprecedented power and wealth of the city confederations, especially of the hanseatic league; by the rising importance of the newly-developed world-market; by the growing luxury and the enormous rise in the prices of commodities concurrently with the reduction in value of the feudal land-tenures; and by the limitation of the possibilities of acquiring wealth by highway robbery, owing to imperial constitutions on the one hand and increased powers of defence on the part of the trading community on the other:--politically, by the new modes of warfare in which artillery and infantry, composed of comparatively well-drilled mercenaries (_landsknechte_), were rapidly making inroads into the omnipotence of the ancient feudal chivalry, and reducing the importance of individual skill or prowess in the handling of weapons, and by the development of the power of the princes or higher nobility, partly due to the influence which the roman civil law now began to exercise over the older customary constitution of the empire, and partly to the budding centralism of authority--which in france and england became a national centralisation, but in germany, in spite of the temporary ascendancy of charles v., finally issued in a provincial centralisation in which the princes were _de facto_ independent monarchs. the imperial constitution of , forbidding private war, applied, it must be remembered, only to the lesser nobility and not to the higher, thereby placing the former in a decidedly ignominious position as regards their feudal superiors. and though this particular enactment had little immediate result, yet it was none the less resented as a blow struck at the old knightly privilege. the mental attitude of the knighthood in the face of this progressing change in their position was naturally an ambiguous one, composed partly of a desire to hark back to the haughty independence of feudalism, and partly of sympathy with the growing discontent among other classes and with the new spirit generally. in order that the knights might succeed in recovering their old or even in maintaining their actual position against the higher nobility, the princes, backed as these now largely were by the imperial power, the co-operation of the cities was absolutely essential to them, but the obstacles in the way of such a co-operation proved insurmountable. the towns hated the knights for their lawless practices, which rendered trade unsafe and not infrequently cost the lives of the citizens. the knights for the most part, with true feudal hauteur, scorned and despised the artisans and traders who had no territorial family name and were unexercised in the higher chivalric arts. the grievances of the two parties were, moreover, not identical, although they had their origin in the same causes. the cities were in the main solely concerned to maintain their old independent position, and especially to curb the growing disposition at this time of the other estates to use them as milch cows from which to draw the taxation necessary to the maintenance of the empire. for example, at the reichstag opened at nürnberg on the th november, --to discuss the questions of the establishment of perpetual peace within the empire, of organising an energetic resistance to the inroads of the turks, and of placing on a firm foundation the imperial privy council (_kammergericht_) and the supreme council (_reichsregiment_)--at which were represented twenty-six imperial towns, thirty-eight high prelates, eighteen princes, and twenty-nine counts and barons--the representatives of the cities complained grievously that their attendance was reduced to a farce, since they were always out-voted, and hence obliged to accept the decisions of the other estates. they stated that their position was no longer bearable, and for the first time drew up an act of protest, which further complained of the delay in the decisions of the imperial courts; of their sufferings from the right of private war which was still allowed to subsist in defiance of the constitution; of the increase of customs-stations on the part of the princes and prince-prelates; and, finally, of the debasement of the coinage due to the unscrupulous practices of these notables and of the jews. the only sympathy the other estates vouchsafed to the plaints of the cities was with regard to the right of private war, which the higher nobles were also anxious to suppress amongst the lower, though without prejudice of course to their own privileges in this line. all the other articles of the act of protest were coolly waived aside. from all this it will be seen that not much co-operation was to be expected between such heterogeneous bodies as the knighthood and the free towns, in spite of their common interest in checking the threateningly advancing power of the princes and the central imperial authority, which was for the most part manned and manipulated by the princes. amid the decaying knighthood there was, as we have already intimated, one figure which stood out head and shoulders above every other noble of the time, whether prince or knight; and that was franz von sickingen. he has been termed, not without truth, "the last flower of german chivalry," since in him the old knightly qualities flashed up in conjunction with the old knightly power and splendour with a brightness hardly known even in the palmiest days of mediæval life. it was, however, the last flicker of the light of german chivalry. with the death of sickingen and the collapse of his revolt the knighthood of central europe ceased any longer to play an independent part in history. sickingen, although technically only one of the lower nobility, was deemed about the time of luther's appearance to hold the immediate destinies of the empire in his hand. wealthy, inspiring confidence and enthusiasm as a leader, possessed of more than one powerful and strategically-situated stronghold, he held court at his favourite residence, the castle of the landstuhl, in the rhenish palatinate, in a style which many a prince of the empire might have envied. as honoured guests were to be found attending on him, humanists, poets, minstrels, partisans of the new theology, astrologers, alchemists, and men of letters generally; in short, the whole intelligence and culture of the period. foremost among these, and chief confidant of sickingen, was the knight, courtier, poet, essayist and pamphleteer, ulrich von hutten, whose pen was ever ready to champion with unstinted enthusiasm the cause of the progressive ideas of his age. he first took up the cudgels against the obscurantists on behalf of humanism as represented by erasmus and reuchlin, the latter of whom he bravely defended in his dispute with the inquisition and the monks of cologne, and in his contributions to the _epistolæ obscurorum virorum_ we see the youthful ardour of the renaissance in full blast in its onslaught on the forces of mediæval obstruction. unlike most of those with whom he was first associated, hutten passed from being the upholder of the new learning to the rôle of champion of the reformation; and it was largely through his influence that sickingen took up the cause of luther and his movement. sickingen had been induced by charles v. to assist him in an abortive attempt to invade france in , from which campaign he had returned without much benefit either material or moral, save that charles was left heavily in his debt. the accumulated hatred of generations for the priesthood had made sickingen a willing instrument in the hands of the reforming party and believing that charles now lay to some extent in his power, he considered the moment opportune for putting his long-cherished scheme into operation for reforming the constitution of the empire. this reformation consisted, as was to be expected, in placing his own order on a firm footing, and of effectually curbing the power of the other estates, especially that of the prelates. sickingen wished to make the emperor and the lower nobility the decisive factors in his new scheme of things political. the emperor, it so happened, was for the moment away in spain, and sickingen's colleagues of the knightly order were becoming clamorous at the unworthy position into which they found themselves rapidly being driven. the feudal exactions of their princely lieges had reached a point which passed all endurance, and since they were practically powerless in the reichstags no outlet was left for their discontent save by open revolt. impelled not less by his own inclinations than by the pressure of his companions, foremost among whom was hutten, sickingen decided at once to open the campaign. hutten, it would appear, attempted to enter into negotiations for the co-operation of the towns and of the peasants. so far as can be seen, strassburg and one or two other imperial cities returned favourable answers; but the precise measure of hutten's success cannot be ascertained, owing to the fact that all the documents relating to the matter perished in the destruction of sickingen's castle of ebernburg. it is certain, however, that operations were begun before any definite assurances of help had been obtained, although had the first attempts had any appearance of success there is little doubt that such help would have been forthcoming. the campaign was unfortunate from the beginning. nevertheless, but one of the associated knights saw that the moment was inopportune. the rest were confident of success, and a pretext was speedily found in the fact that sickingen's feudal superior, the archbishop of trier (treves), had refused to compel two councillors of that city to repay him rhenish guilders (_gulden_) which he had paid as ransom for them to a certain knight, gerhard börner, who had taken them prisoners. this was a sufficient _casus belli_ for those times; and sickingen thereupon issued a manifesto in which he declared himself the champion of the gospel, and announced his intention to free the subjects of the archbishop from the temporal yoke of their tyrant, who had acted against god and the imperial majesty, and from the spiritual yoke of godless priests, and to place them in possession of that liberty which the gospel (_i.e._, the new gospel of luther) alone could afford. it should be premised that on the th of august, previous to this declaration of war, a "brotherly convention" had been signed by a number of the knights, by which sickingen was appointed their captain, and they bound themselves to submit to no jurisdiction save their own, and pledged themselves to mutual aid in war in case of hostilities against any one of their number. through this "treaty of landau," sickingen had it in his power to assemble a considerable force at a moment's notice. consequently, a few days after the issue of the above manifesto, on the th august, , sickingen was able to start from the castle of ebernburg with an army of foot and knights, besides artillery, in the full confidence that he was about to destroy the position of the palatine prince-prelate and raise himself without delay to the chief power on the rhine. the grand chamberlain of the celebrated patron of letters and humanism, albrecht, archbishop of mainz, frowers von hutten, was in the conspiracy; and it is almost certain that albrecht himself was secretly in accord with sickingen's plan for the destruction of his electoral neighbour. this is shown by the fact that when the archbishop of trier appealed to him, as his colleague, for assistance, albrecht made a number of excuses which enabled him to delay the sending of reinforcements until they were too late to be of any use, whilst at the same time numbers of his retainers and subjects served under sickingen's banner. by an effective piece of audacity, that of sporting the imperial flag and the burgundian cross, franz spread abroad the idea that he was acting on behalf of the emperor, then absent in spain; and this largely contributed to the result that his army speedily rose to knights and , footmen. the imperial diet at nürnberg now intervened, and ordered sickingen to cease the operations he had already begun, threatening him with the ban of the empire and a fine of marks if he did not obey. to this summons franz sent a characteristically impudent reply,[ ] and light-heartedly continued the campaign, regardless of the warning which an astrologer had given him some time previously, that the year or would probably be fatal to him. it is evident that this campaign, begun so late in the year, was regarded by sickingen and the other leaders as merely a preliminary canter to a larger and more widespread movement the following spring, since on this occasion the swabian and franconian knighthood do not appear to have been even invited to take part in it. after an easy progress, during which several trifling places, the most important being st. wendel, were taken, franz with his army arrived on the th of september before the gates of trier. he had hoped to capture the town by surprise, and was indeed not without some expectation of co-operation and help from the citizens themselves. on his arrival he shot letters within the walls summoning the inhabitants to take his part against their tyrant; but either through the unwillingness of the burghers to act with the knights, or through the vigilance of the archbishop, they were without effect. the gates remained closed; and in answer to sickingen's summons to surrender, richard replied that he would find him in the city if he could get inside. in the meantime sickingen's friends had signally failed in their attempts to obtain supplies and reinforcements for him, in the main owing to the energetic action of some of the higher nobles. the archbishop of trier showed himself as much a soldier as a churchman; and after a week's siege, during which sickingen made five assaults on the city, his powder ran out, and he was forced to retire. he at once made his way back to ebernburg, where he intended to pass the winter, since he saw that it was useless to continue the campaign, with his own army diminishing and the hoped-for supplies not appearing, whilst the forces of his antagonists augmented daily. in his stronghold of ebernburg he could rely on being secure from all attack until he was able to again take the field on the offensive, as he anticipated doing in the spring. there is some doubt as to the events which occurred during this retreat to ebernburg. sickingen's adversaries asserted that not only did his army destroy churches and monasteries, but that the houses of the peasants in the surrounding country were plundered and burnt. his friends, on the other hand, maintain with equal vehemence that sickingen and his followers confined themselves to wiping out of existence as many as possible of the hated ecclesiastical foundations. in spite of the obvious failure of the autumnal campaign, the cause of the knighthood did not by any means look irretrievably desperate, since there was always the possibility of successful recruitments the following spring. ulrich von hutten was doing his utmost in würtemberg and switzerland to scrape together men and money, though up to this time without much success, while other emissaries of sickingen were working with the same object in breisgau and other parts of southern germany. relying on these expected reinforcements, franz was confident of victory when he should again take the field, and in the meantime he felt himself quite secure in one or other of his strong places, which had recently undergone extensive repairs and seemed to be impregnable. in this anticipation he was deceived, as will shortly be seen, for he had not reckoned with the new and more potent weapons of attack which were replacing the battering-ram and other mediæval besieging appliances. the princes, meanwhile, were not inactive. immediately after the abortive attack on richard of trier, sickingen was placed under the ban of the empire (oct. ), but although the latter had temporarily disbanded his army it was impossible for them to attack him at once. they therefore contented themselves for the moment by wreaking their vengeance on those of his supporters who were more easily to be reached. albrecht of mainz, whose public policy had been that of "sitting on the fence all round," was fined , gulden for his lukewarmness in supporting his colleague, the elector of trier. kronberg, near frankfort, which was held by sickingen's son-in-law, hardtmuth, was taken by a force of , men (?); frowen von hutten, the cousin of ulrich, was driven from his castle of saalmünster and dispossessed of his estates, whilst a number of the smaller fry equally felt the heavy hand of the princely power. the chastisement of more distant adherents to the cause of the knighthood, like the counts of fürstenberg and zollern and the knights of franconia, was left over until the leader of the movement had been dealt with. this latter task was set about energetically, as soon as the winter was past, by the three princes who had specially taken in hand the suppression of the revolt, archbishop richard of trier, prince ludwig of the pfalz, and count phillip of hesse. in february, sickingen's second son, hans, was taken prisoner, and shortly after the castle of wartenberg was captured. an armistice which sickingen had asked for in order that the reinforcements he expected might have time to arrive, was refused, since the princes saw that their only chance of immediately crushing his power was to attack him at once. towards the end of april a large army of cavalry, infantry, and siege artillery was called together at kreuznach, not far from sickingen's castle of ebernburg. franz, however, was no longer there. he appears to have left ebernburg for his strongest fortress at landstuhl some weeks previously, though how and when is uncertain. here he hoped to be able to hold out for at least three or four months, by which time his friends could deliver him; and when the army of the three princes appeared before the castle he sent back a mocking answer to their summons to surrender, to the effect that he had new walls and they had new guns, so they could now see which were the stronger. but sickingen had not realised the power of the new projectiles; and in a week after the opening of the bombardment, on the th of april, the newly-fortified castle on which he had staked all his hopes was little better than a defenceless heap of ruins. in the course of the bombardment franz himself, as he stood at an embrasure watching the progress of the siege, was flung against a splintered joist, owing to the gun-stand against which he was leaning being overturned by a cannon shot. with his side torn open he was carried down into a dark rocky vault of the castle, realising at last that all was lost. "where are now," he cried, "my knights and my friends, who promised me so much and who have performed so little? where is fürstenberg? where zollern? where are they of strassburg and of the brotherhood? wherefore, let none place their trust in great possessions nor in the encouragements of men." it must be alleged, however, in their excuse, that his friends doubtless shared franz's confidence in the impregnability of the landstuhl, and were not aware of the imminent straits he had been in since the beginning of the attack. the messenger he had sent to the distant fürstenberg had been captured by the army of the allied princes; zollern knew of the need of his leader only with the news of his death; hutten's efforts to obtain help in switzerland had been in vain. seeing that now all was over and he himself on the point of death, sickingen wrote to the princes, requesting them to come and see him. the firing at once ceased, and negotiations were entered upon for the surrender of the castle. on the th of may sickingen agreed to the articles of capitulation, which included the surrender of himself and the rest of the knights in the castle as prisoners of war, his other retainers giving up their arms and leaving the castle on the following day. the landstuhl with all its contents was to fall, of course, into the hands of the besiegers. as franz signed the articles, he remarked to the ambassadors: "well, i shall not be long your prisoner". on the th of may the princes entered the castle and were at once taken to the underground chamber where franz lay dying. he was so near his end that he could scarcely distinguish his three arch-enemies one from the other. "my dear lord," he said to the count palatine, his feudal superior, "i had not thought that i should end thus," taking off his cap and giving him his hand. "what has impelled thee, franz," asked the archbishop of trier, "that thou hast so laid waste and harmed me and my poor people?" "of that it were too long to speak," answered sickingen, "but i have done nought without cause. i go now to stand before a greater lord." here it is worthy of remark that the princes treated franz with all the knightliness and courtesy which were customary between social equals in the days of chivalry, addressing him at most rather as a rebellious child than as an insurgent subject. the prince of hesse was about to give utterance to a reproach, but he was interrupted by the count palatine, who told him that he must not quarrel with a dying man. the count's chamberlain said some sympathetic words to franz, who replied to him: "my dear chamberlain, it matters little about me. it is not i who am the cock round which they are dancing." when the princes had withdrawn, his chaplain asked him if he would confess; but franz replied: "i have confessed to god in my heart," whereupon the chaplain gave him absolution; and as he went to fetch the host "the last of the knights" passed quietly away, alone and abandoned. it is related by spalatin that after his death some peasants and domestics placed his body in an old armourchest, in which they had to double the head on to the knees. the chest was then let down by a rope from the rocky eminence on which stood the now ruined castle, and was buried beneath a small chapel in the village below. the scene we have just described in the castle vault meant not merely the tragedy of a hero's death, nor merely the destruction of a faction or party. it meant the end of an epoch. with sickingen's death one of the most salient and picturesque elements in the mediæval life of central europe received its death-blow. the knighthood as a distinct factor in the polity of europe henceforth existed no more. spalatin relates that on the death of sickingen the princely party anticipated as easy a victory over the religious revolt as they had achieved over the knighthood. "the mock emperor is dead," so the phrase went, "and the mock pope will soon be dead also." hutten, already an exile in switzerland, did not many months survive his patron and leader, sickingen. the rôle which erasmus played in this miserable tragedy was only what was to be expected from the moral cowardice which seemed ingrained in the character of the great humanist leader. erasmus had already begun to fight shy of the reformation movement, from which he was about to separate himself definitely. he seized the present opportunity to quarrel with hutten; and to hutten's somewhat bitter attacks on him in consequence he replied with ferocity in his _spongia erasmi adversus aspergines hutteni_. hutten had had to fly from basel to mülhausen and thence to zürich, in the last stages of syphilitic disease. he was kindly received by the reformer, zwingli of zürich, who advised him to try the waters of pfeffers, and gave him letters of recommendation to the abbot of that place. he returned, in no wise benefited, to zürich, when zwingli again befriended the sick knight, and sent him to a friend of his, the "reformed" pastor of the little island of "ufenau," at the other end of the lake, where after a few weeks' suffering he died in abject destitution, leaving, it is said, nothing behind him but his pen. the disease from which hutten suffered the greater part of his life, at that time a comparatively new importation and much more formidable even than now-a-days, may well have contributed to an irascibility of temper and to a certain recklessness which the typical free-lance of the reformation in its early period exhibited. hutten was never a theologian, and the reformation seems to have attracted him mainly from its political side as implying the assertion of the dawning feeling of german nationality as against the hated enemies of freedom of thought and the new light, the clerical satellites of the roman see. he was a true son of his time, in his vices no less than in his virtues; and no one will deny his partiality for "wine, women, and play". there is reason, indeed, to believe that the latter at times during his later career provided his sole means of subsistence. the hero of the reformation, luther, with whom melancthon may be associated in this matter, could be no less pusillanimous on occasion than the hero of the new learning, erasmus. luther undoubtedly saw in sickingen's revolt a means of weakening the catholic powers against which he had to fight, and at its inception he avowedly favoured the enterprise. in "karsthans," the brochure quoted from in the last chapter, luther is represented as the incarnation of christian resignation and mildness, and as talking of twelve legions of angels and deprecating any appeal to force as unbefitting the character of an evangelical apostle. that such, however, was not his habitual attitude is evident to all who are in the least degree acquainted with his real conduct and utterances. on one occasion he wrote: "if they (the priests) continue their mad ravings it seems to me that there would be no better method and medicine to stay them than that kings and princes did so with force, armed themselves and attacked these pernicious people who do poison all the world, and once for all did make an end of their doings with weapons not with words. for even as we punish thieves with the sword, murderers with the rope, and heretics with fire, wherefore do we not lay hands on these pernicious teachers of damnation, on popes, on cardinals, bishops, and the swarm of the roman sodom--yea, with every weapon which lieth within our reach, _and wherefore do we not wash our hands in their blood_?" it is, however, in a manifesto published in july, , just before sickingen's attack on the archbishop of trier, for which enterprise it was doubtless intended as a justification, that luther expresses himself in unmeasured terms against the "biggest wolves," the bishops, and calls upon "all dear children of god and all true christians" to drive them out by force from the "sheep-stalls". in this pamphlet, entitled "against the falsely called spiritual order of the pope and the bishops," he says: "it were better that every bishop were murdered, every foundation or cloister rooted out, than that one soul should be destroyed, let alone that all souls should be lost for the sake of their worthless trumpery and idolatry. of what use are they who thus live in lust, nourished by the sweat and labour of others, and are a stumbling block to the word of god? they fear bodily uproar and despise spiritual destruction. are they wise and honest people? if they accepted god's word and sought the life of the soul, god would be with them, for he is a god of peace, and they need fear no uprising; but if they will not hear god's word, but rage and rave with bannings, burnings, killings, and every evil, what do they better deserve than a strong uprising which shall sweep them from the earth? _and we would smile did it happen._ as the heavenly wisdom saith: 'ye have hated my chastisement and despised my doctrine; behold, i will also laugh at ye in your distress, and will mock ye when misfortune shall fall upon your heads'." in the same document he denounces the bishops as an accursed race, as "thieves, robbers, and usurers". swine, horses, stones, and wood were not so destitute of understanding as the german people under the sway of them and their pope. the religious houses are similarly described as "brothels, low taverns, and murder dens". he winds up this document, which he calls his bull, by proclaiming that "all who contribute body, goods, and honour that the rule of the bishops may be destroyed are god's dear children and true christians, obeying god's command and fighting against the devil's order;" and on the other hand, that "all who give the bishops a willing obedience are the devil's own servants, and fight against god's order and law".[ ] no sooner, however, did things begin to look bad with sickingen than luther promptly sought to disengage himself from all complicity or even sympathy with him and his losing cause. so early as the th of december, , he writes to his friend wenzel link: "franz von sickingen has begun war against the palatine. it will be a very bad business." (_franciscus sickingen palatino bellum indixit, res pessima futura est._) his colleague, melancthon, a few days later, hastened to deprecate the insinuation that luther had had any part or lot in initiating the revolt. "franz von sickingen," he wrote, "by his great ill-will injures the cause of luther; and notwithstanding that he be entirely dissevered from him, nevertheless whenever he undertaketh war he wisheth to seem to act for the public benefit, and not for his own. he is even now pursuing a most infamous course of plunder on the rhine." in another letter he says: "i know how this tumult grieveth him (luther),"[ ] and this respecting the man who had shortly before written of the princes, that their tyranny and haughtiness were no longer to be borne, alleging that god would not longer endure it, and that the common man even was becoming intelligent enough to deal with them by force if they did not mend their manners. a more telling example of the "don't-put-him-in-the-horse-pond" attitude could scarcely be desired. that it was characteristic of the "great reformer" will be seen later on when we find him pursuing a similar policy anent the revolt of the peasants. after the fall of the landstuhl all sickingen's castles and most of those of his immediate allies and friends were of course taken, and the greater part of them destroyed. the knighthood was now to all intents and purposes politically helpless and economically at the door of bankruptcy, owing to the suddenly changed conditions of which we have spoken in the introduction and elsewhere as supervening since the beginning of the century: the unparalleled rise in prices, concurrently with the growing extravagance, the decline of agriculture in many places, and the increasing burdens put upon the knights by their feudal superiors, and last, but not least, the increasing obstacles in the way of the successful pursuit of the profession of highway robbery. the majority of them, therefore, clung with relentless severity to the feudal dues of the peasants, which now constituted their main, and in many cases their only, source of revenue; and hence, abandoning the hope of independence, they threw in their lot with the authorities, the princes, lay and ecclesiastic, in the common object of both, that of reducing the insurgent peasants to complete subjection. some few of the more chivalrous knights, foremost among whom was florian geyer, retained their rebel instincts against the higher authorities, and took sides with the popular movement. they fought, however, in a forlorn hope. as we shall now see, provincial centralism, as in italy, and not national centralism as in france, england, and spain, was destined to be the political form dominant in germany far into the modern period. the disasters and discomfitures of the peasants' war, which we shall presently describe, removed the last obstacle to the complete ascendancy of the provincial potentates, the princes of the empire; for this event was the immediate cause of the final disintegration of mediæval life, and the undermining of the last survivals of the free institutions of the communal village which had lasted throughout the middle ages. footnotes: [ ] franz said to the bystanders when the messengers of the council appeared: "look at these old fiddles of the _regiment_; only the dancers lack. there is no dearth of commands, but only of those who heed them;" and turning to the nuncios themselves, he bade them tell the imperial stadthalter and the other gentlemen of the council that "they might make themselves easy, for he was as good a servant of the emperor as themselves. he would, if he had enough followers, so work it that the emperor would be able to get far more land and gold in germany than he could ever get abroad. he only meant to give richard of trier a slight drubbing, and to soak his crowns for him which he had gotten from france." [ ] _sämmtliche werke_, vol. xxviii., - . [ ] _corpus reformatorum_, i., - . chapter vii. country and town at the end of the middle ages. for the complete understanding of the events which follow it must be borne in mind that we are witnessing the end of a distinct historical period; and, as we have pointed out in the introduction, the expiring effort, half conscious and half unconscious, of the people to revert to the conditions of an earlier age. nor can the significance be properly gauged unless a clear conception is obtained of the differences between country and town life at the beginning of the sixteenth century. from the earliest periods of the middle ages of which we have any historical record, the _markgenossenschaft_, or primitive village community of the germanic race, was overlaid by a territorial domination, imposed upon it either directly by conquest or voluntarily accepted for the sake of the protection indispensable in that rude period. the conflict of these two elements, the mark organisation and the territorial lordship, constitutes the marrow of the social history of the middle ages. in the earliest times the pressure of the over-lord, whoever he might be, seems to have been comparatively slight, but its inevitable tendency was for the territorial power to extend itself at the expense of the rural community. it was thus that in the tenth and eleventh centuries the feudal oppression had become thoroughly settled, and had reached its greatest intensity all over europe. it continued thus with little intermission until the thirteenth century, when from various causes, economic and otherwise, matters began to improve in the interests of the common man, till in the fifteenth century the condition of the peasant was better than it has ever been, either before or since within historical times, in northern and western europe. but with all this, the oppressive power of the lord of the soil was by no means dead. it was merely dormant, and was destined to spring into renewed activity the moment the lord's necessities supplied a sufficient incentive. from this time forward the element of territorial power, supported in its claims by the roman law, with its basis of private property, continued to eat into it until it had finally devoured the old rights and possessions of the village community. the executive power always tended to be transferred from its legitimate holder, the village in its corporate capacity, to the lord; and this was alone sufficient to place the villager at his mercy. at the time of the reformation, owing to the new conditions which had arisen and had brought about in a few decades the hitherto unparalleled rise in prices, combined with the unprecedented ostentation and extravagance more than once referred to in these pages, the lord was supplied with the requisite incentive to the exercise of the power which his feudal system gave him. consequently, the position of the peasant rapidly changed for the worse; and although at the outbreak of the movement not absolutely _in extremis_, according to our notions, yet it was so bad comparatively to his previous condition and that less than half a century before, and tended so evidently to become more intolerable, that discontent became everywhere rife, and only awaited the torch of the new doctrines to set it ablaze. the whole course of the movement shows a peasantry not downtrodden and starved, but proud and robust, driven to take up arms not so much by misery and despair as by the deliberate will to maintain the advantages which were rapidly slipping away from them. serfdom was not by any means universal. many free peasant villages were to be found scattered amongst the manors of the territorial lords, though it was but too evidently the settled policy of the latter at this time to sweep everything into their net, and to compel such peasant communes to accept a feudal over-lordship. nor were they at all scrupulous in the means adopted for attaining their ends. the ecclesiastical foundations, as before said, were especially expert in forging documents for the purpose of proving that these free villages were lapsed feudatories of their own. old rights of pasture were being curtailed, and others, notably those of hunting and fishing, had in most manors been completely filched away. it is noticeable, however, that although the immediate causes of the peasant rising were the new burdens which had been laid upon the common people during the last few years, once the spirit of discontent was aroused it extended also in many cases to the traditional feudal dues to which until then the peasant had submitted with little murmuring, and an attempt was made by the country side to reconquer the ancient complete freedom of which a dim remembrance had been handed down to them. the condition of the peasant up to the beginning of the sixteenth century, that is to say, up to the time when it began to so rapidly change for the worse, may be gathered from what we are told by contemporary writers, such as wimpfeling, sebastian brandt, wittenweiler, the satires in the _nürnberger fastnachtspielen_, and numberless other sources, as also from the sumptuary laws of the end of the fifteenth century. all these indicate an ease and profuseness of living which little accord with our notions of the word peasant. wimpfeling writes: "the peasants in our district and in many parts of germany have become, through their riches, stiff-necked and ease-loving. i know peasants who at the weddings of their sons or daughters, or the baptism of their children, make so much display that a house and field might be bought therewith, and a small vineyard to boot. through their riches, they are oftentimes spendthrift in food and in vestments, and they drink wines of price." a chronicler relates of the austrian peasants, under the date of , that "they wore better garments and drank better wine than their lords"; and a sumptuary law passed at the reichstag, held at lindau in , provides that the common peasant man and the labourer in the towns or in the field "shall neither make nor wear cloth that costs more than half a gulden the ell, neither shall they wear gold, pearls, velvet, silk, nor embroidered clothes, nor shall they permit their wives or their children to wear such". respecting the food of the peasant, it is stated that he ate his full in flesh of every kind, in fish, in bread, in fruit, drinking wine often to excess. the swabian, heinrich müller, writes in the year , nearly two generations after the change had begun to take place: "in the memory of my father, who was a peasant man, the peasant did eat much better than now. meat and food in plenty was there every day, and at fairs and other junketings the tables did well-nigh break with what they bore. then drank they wine as it were water, then did a man fill his belly and carry away withal as much as he could; then was wealth and plenty. otherwise is it now. a costly and a bad time hath arisen since many a year, and the food and drink of the best peasant is much worse than of yore that of the day labourer and the serving man." we may well imagine the vivid recollections which a peasant in the year had of the golden days of a few years before. the day labourers and serving men were equally tantalised by the remembrance of high wages and cheap living at the beginning of the century. a day labourer could then earn, with his keep, nine, and without keep, sixteen groschen[ ] a week. what this would buy may be judged from the following prices current in saxony during the second half of the fifteenth century. a pair of good working shoes cost three groschen; a whole sheep, four groschen; a good fat hen, half a groschen; twenty-five cod fish, four groschen; a waggon-load of firewood, together with carriage, five groschen; an ell of the best home-spun cloth, five groschen; a scheffel (about a bushel) of rye, six or seven groschen. the duke of saxony wore grey hats which cost him four groschen. in northern rhineland about the same time a day labourer could, in addition to his keep, earn in a week a quarter of rye, ten pounds of pork, six large cans of milk, and two bundles of firewood, and in the course of five weeks be able to buy six ells of linen, a pair of shoes, and a bag for his tools. in augsburg the daily wages of an ordinary labourer represented the value of six pounds of the best meat, or one pound of meat, seven eggs, a peck of peas, about a quart of wine, in addition to such bread as he required, with enough over for lodging, clothing, and minor expenses. in bavaria he could earn daily eighteen pfennige, or one and a half groschen, whilst a pound of sausage cost one pfennig, and a pound of the best beef two pfennige, and similarly throughout the whole of the states of central europe. a document of the year , from ehrbach in the swabian odenwald, describes for us the treatment of servants by their masters. "all journeymen," it declares, "that are hired, and likewise bondsmen (serfs), also the serving men and maids, shall each day be given twice meat and what thereto longith, with half a small measure of wine, save on fast days, when they shall have fish or other food that nourisheth. whoso in the week hath toiled shall also on sundays and feast days make merry after mass and preaching. they shall have bread and meat enough, and half a great measure of wine. on feast days also roasted meat enough. moreover, they shall be given, to take home with them, a great loaf of bread and so much of flesh as two at one meal may eat." again, in a bill of fare of the household of count joachim von oettingen in bavaria, the journeymen and villeins are accorded in the morning, soup and vegetables; at mid-day, soup and meat, with vegetables, and a bowl of broth or a plate of salted or pickled meat; at night, soup and meat, carrots, and preserved meat. even the women who brought fowls or eggs from the neighbouring villages to the castle were given for their trouble--if from the immediate vicinity, a plate of soup with two pieces of bread; if from a greater distance, a complete meal and a cruise of wine. in saxony, similarly, the agricultural journeymen received two meals a day, of four courses each, besides frequently cheese and bread at other times should they require it. not to have eaten meat for a week was the sign of the direst famine in any district. warnings are not wanting against the evils accruing to the common man from his excessive indulgence in eating and drinking. such was the condition of the proletariat in its first inception, that is, when the mediæval system of villeinage had begun to loosen and to allow a proportion of free labourers to insinuate themselves into its working. how grievous, then, were the complaints when, while wages had risen either not at all or at most from half a groschen to a groschen, the price of rye rose from six or seven groschen a bushel to about five-and-twenty groschen, that of a sheep from four to eighteen groschen, and all other articles of necessary consumption in a like proportion![ ] in the middle ages, necessaries and such ordinary comforts as were to be had at all were dirt cheap; while non-necessaries and luxuries, that is, such articles as had to be imported from afar, were for the most part at prohibitive prices. with the opening up of the world-market during the first half of the sixteenth century, this state of things rapidly changed. most luxuries in a short time fell heavily in price, while necessaries rose in a still greater proportion. this latter change in the economic conditions of the world exercised its most powerful effect, however, on the character of the mediæval town, which had remained substantially unchanged since its first great expansion at the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth centuries. with the extension of commerce and the opening up of communications, there began that evolution of the town whose ultimate outcome was to entirely change the central idea on which the urban organisation was based. the first requisite for a town, according to modern notions, is facility of communication with the rest of the world by means of railways, telegraphs, postal system, and the like. so far has this gone now that in a new country, for instance america, the railway, telegraph lines, etc., are made first, and the towns are then strung upon them, like beads upon a cord. in the mediæval town, on the contrary, communication was quite a secondary matter, and more of a luxury than a necessity. each town was really a self-sufficing entity, both materially and intellectually. the modern idea of a town is that of a mere local aggregate of individuals, each pursuing a trade or calling with a view to the world-market at large. their own locality or town is no more to them economically than any other part of the world-market, and very little more in any other respect. the mediæval idea of a town, on the contrary, was that of an organisation of groups into one organic whole. just as the village community was a somewhat extended family organisation, so was, _mutatis mutandis_, the larger unit, the township or city. each member of the town organisation owed allegiance and distinct duties primarily to his guild, or immediate social group, and through this to the larger social group which constituted the civic society. consequently, every townsman felt a kind of _esprit de corps_ with his fellow-citizens, akin to that, say, which is alleged of the soldiers of the old french "foreign legion," who, being brothers-in-arms, were brothers also in all other relations. but if every citizen owed duty and allegiance to the town in its corporate capacity, the town no less owed protection and assistance, in every department of life, to its individual members. as in ancient rome in its earlier history, and as in all other early urban communities, agriculture necessarily played a considerable part in the life of most mediæval towns. like the villages they possessed each its own mark, with its common fields, pastures, and woods. these were demarcated by various landmarks, crosses, holy images, etc.; and "the bounds" were beaten every year. the wealthier citizens usually possessed gardens and orchards within the town walls, while each inhabitant had his share in the communal holding without. the use of this latter was regulated by the rath or council. in fact, the town life of the middle ages was not by any means so sharply differentiated from rural life as is implied in our modern idea of a town. even in the larger commercial towns, such as frankfurt, nürnberg or augsburg, it was common to keep cows, pigs, and sheep, and, as a matter of course, fowls and geese, in large numbers within the precincts of the town itself. in frankfurt in the pigsties in the town had become such a nuisance that the rath had to forbid them _in the front_ of the houses by a formal decree. in ulm there was a regulation of the bakers' guild to the effect that no single member should keep more than twenty-four pigs, and that cows should be confined to their stalls at night. in nürnberg in again, the rath had to interfere with the intolerable nuisance of pigs and other farmyard stock running about loose in the streets. even in a town like münchen we are informed that agriculture formed one of the staple occupations of the inhabitants, while in almost every city the gardeners' or the winegrowers' guild appears as one of the largest and most influential. it is evident that such conditions of life would be impossible with town-populations even approaching only distantly those of to-day; and, in fact, when we come to inquire into the size and populousness of mediæval cities, as into those of the classical world of antiquity, we are at first sight staggered by the smallness of their proportions. the largest and most populous free imperial cities in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, nürnberg and strassburg, numbered little more than , resident inhabitants within the walls, a population rather less than that of (say) gloucester at the present time. such an important place as frankfurt-am-main is stated at the middle of the fifteenth century to have had less than inhabitants. at the end of the fifteenth century dresden could only boast of about . rothenburg on the tauber is to-day a dead city to all intents and purposes, affording us a magnificent example of what a mediæval town was like, as the bulk of its architecture, including the circuit of its walls, which remain intact, dates approximately from the sixteenth century. at present a single line of railway branching off from the main line with about two trains a day is amply sufficient to convey the few antiquarians and artists who are now its sole visitors, and who have to content themselves with country-inn accommodation. yet this old free city has actually a larger population at the present day than it had at the time of which we are writing, when it was at the height of its prosperity as an important centre of activity. the figures of its population are now between and . at the beginning of the sixteenth century they were between and . a work written and circulated in manuscript during the first decade of the sixteenth century, "a christian exhortation" (_ein christliche mahnung_), after referring to the frightful pestilences recently raging as a punishment from god, observes, in the spirit of true malthusianism, and as a justification of the ways of providence, that "an there were not so many that died there were too much folk in the land, and it were not good that such should be lest there were not food enough for all". great population as constituting importance in a city is comparatively a modern notion. in other ages towns became famous on account of their superior civic organisation, their more advantageous situation, or the greater activity, intellectual, political, or commercial, of their citizens. what this civic organisation of mediæval towns was, demands a few words of explanation, since the conflict between the two main elements in their composition plays an important part in the events which follow. something has already been said on this head in the introduction. we have there pointed out that the rath or town council, that is the supreme governing body of the municipality, was in all cases mainly, and often entirely, composed of the heads of the town aristocracy, the patrician class or "honorability" (_ehrbarkeit_), as they were termed, who on the ground of their antiquity and wealth laid claim to every post of power and privilege. on the other hand were the body of the citizens enrolled in the various guilds, seeking, as their position and wealth improved, to wrest the control of the town's resources from the patricians. it must be remembered that the towns stood in the position of feudal over-lords to the peasants who held land on the city territory, which often extended for many square miles outside the walls. a small town like rothenburg, for instance, which we have described above, had on its lands as many as , peasants. the feudal dues and contributions of these tenants constituted the staple revenue of the town, and the management of them was one of the chief bones of contention. nowhere was the guild system brought to a greater perfection than in the free imperial towns of germany. indeed, it was carried further in them, in one respect, than in any other part of europe, for the guilds of journeymen (_gesellenverbände_), which in other places never attained any strength or importance, were in germany developed to the fullest extent, and of course supported the craft-guilds in their conflict with the patriciate. although there were naturally numerous frictions between the two classes of guilds respecting wages, working days, hours, and the like, it must not be supposed that there was that irreconcilable hostility between them which would exist at the present time between a trades union and a syndicate of employers. each recognised the right to existence of the other. in one case, that of the strike of bakers towards the close of the fifteenth century, at colmar in elsass, the craft-guilds supported the journeymen in their protest against a certain action of the patrician rath which they considered to be a derogation from their dignity. like the masters the journeymen had their own guild-house, and their own solemn functions and social gatherings. there were, indeed, two kinds of journeymen-guilds: one whose chief purpose was a religious one, and the other concerning itself in the first instance with the secular concerns of the body. however, both classes of journeymen-guilds worked into one another's hand. on coming into a strange town a travelling member of such a guild was certain of a friendly reception, of maintenance until he procured work, and of assistance in finding it as soon as possible. interesting details concerning the wages paid to journeymen and their contributions to the guilds are to be found in the original documents relating exclusively to the journeymen-guilds, collected by georg schanz.[ ] from these and other sources it is clear that the position of the artisan in the towns was in proportion much better than even that of the peasant at that time, and therefore immeasurably superior to anything he has enjoyed since. in south germany at this period the average price of beef was about two denarii[ ] a pound, while the daily wages of the masons and carpenters, in addition to their keep and lodging, amounted in the summer to about twenty, and in the winter to about sixteen of these denarii. in saxony the same journeymen-craftsmen earned on the average, besides their maintenance, two groschen four pfennige a day, or about one-third the value of a bushel of corn. in addition to this, in some cases the workman had weekly gratuities under the name of "bathing money"; and in this connection it may be noticed that a holiday for the purpose of bathing once a fortnight, once a week, or even oftener, as the case might be, was stipulated for by the guilds, and generally recognised as a legitimate demand. the common notion of the uniform uncleanliness of the mediæval man requires to be considerably modified when one closely investigates the condition of town life, and finds everywhere facilities for bathing in winter and summer alike. untidiness and uncleanliness, according to our notions, there may have been in the streets and in the dwellings in many cases, owing to inadequate provisions for the disposal of refuse and the like; but we must not therefore extend this idea to the person, and imagine that the mediæval craftsman or even peasant was as unwholesome as, say, the roumanian peasant of to-day. when these wages received by the journeymen artisans are compared with the prices of commodities previously given, it will be seen how relatively easy were their circumstances; and the extent of their well-being may be further judged from the wealth of their guilds, which, although varying in different places, at all times formed a considerable proportion of the wealth of the town. the guild system was based upon the notion that the individual master and workman was working as much in the interest of the guild as for his own advantage. each member of the guild was alike under the obligation to labour, and to labour in accordance with the rules laid down by his guild, and at the same time had the right of equal enjoyment with his fellow-guildsmen of all advantages pertaining to the particular branch of industry covered by the guild. every guildsman had to work himself _in propriâ personâ_; no contractor was tolerated who himself "in ease and sloth doth live on the sweat of others, and puffeth himself up in lustful pride". were a guild-master ill and unable to manage the affairs of his workshop, it was the council of the guild, and not himself or his relatives, who installed a representative for him and generally looked after his affairs. it was the guild again which procured the raw material, and distributed it in relatively equal proportions amongst its members; or where this was not the case, the time and place were indicated at which the guildsman might buy at a fixed maximum price. every master had equal right to the use of the common property and institutions of the guild, which in some industries included the essentials of production, as, for example, in the case of the woollen manufacturers, where wool kitchens, carding rooms, bleaching houses and the like were common to the whole guild. needless to say, the relations between master and apprentices and master and journeymen were rigidly fixed down to the minutest detail. the system was thoroughly patriarchal in its character. in the hey-day of the guilds, every apprentice and most of the journeymen regarded their actual condition as a period of preparation which would end in the glories of mastership. for this dear hope they were ready on occasion to undergo cheerfully the most arduous duties. the education in handicraft, and, we may add, the supervision of the morals of the blossoming members of the guild, was a department which greatly exercised its administration. on the other hand, the guild in its corporate capacity was bound to maintain sick or incapacitated apprentices and journeymen, though after the journeymen had developed into a distinct class, and the consequent rise of the journeymen-guilds, the latter function was probably in most cases taken over by them. the guild laws against adulteration, scamped work, and the like, were sometimes ferocious in their severity. for example, in some towns the baker who misconducted himself in the matter of the composition of his bread was condemned to be shut up in a basket which was fixed at the end of a long pole, and let down so many times to the bottom of a pool of dirty water. in the year two grocers, together with a female assistant, were burnt alive at nürnberg for adulterating saffron and spices, and a similar instance happened at augsburg in . from what we have said it will be seen that guild life, like the life of the town as a whole, was essentially a social life. it was a larger family, into which various blood families were merged. the interest of each was felt to be the interest of all, and the interest of all no less the interest of each. but in many towns, outside the town population properly speaking, outside the patrician families who generally governed the rath, outside the guilds, outside the town organisation altogether, there were other bodies dwelling within the walls and forming _imperia in imperiis_. these were the religious corporations, whose possessions were often extensive, and who, dwelling within their own walls, shut out from the rest of the town, were subject only to their own ordinances. the quasi-religious, quasi-military order of the teutonic knights (_deutscher orden_), founded at the time of the crusades, was the wealthiest and largest of these corporations. in addition to the extensive territories which it held in various parts of the empire, it had establishments in a large number of cities. besides this there were, of course, the orders of the augustinians and carthusians, and a number of less important foundations, who had their cloisters in various towns. at the beginning of the sixteenth century, the pomp, pride, and licentiousness of the teutonic order drew upon it the especial hatred of the townsfolk; and amid the general wreck of religious houses none were more ferociously despoiled than those belonging to this order. there were, moreover, in some towns, the establishments of princely families, which were regarded by the citizens with little less hostility than that accorded to the religious orders. such were the explosive elements of town life when changing conditions were tending to dislocate the whole structure of mediæval existence. the capture of constantinople by the turks in had struck a heavy blow at the commerce of the bavarian cities which had come by way of constantinople and venice. this latter city lost one by one its trading centres in the east, and all oriental traffic by way of the black sea was practically stopped. it was the dutch cities who inherited the wealth and influence of the german towns when vasco da gama's discovery of the cape route to the east began to have its influence on the trade of the world. this diversion of oriental traffic from the old overland route was the starting point of the modern merchant navy, and it must be placed amongst the most potent causes of the break-up of mediæval civilisation. the above change, although immediately felt by the german towns, was not realised by them in its full importance either as to its causes or its consequences for more than a century; but the decline of their prosperity was nevertheless sensible, even now, and contributed directly to the coming upheaval. footnotes: [ ] one silver groschen = - / d. [ ] the authorities for the above data are to be found in janssen, i., vol. i., bk. iii., especially pp. - . [ ] _zur geschichte der deutschen gesellenverbände._ leipz., . [ ] c. / d. the _denarius_ was the south german equivalent of the north german _pfennig_, of which twelve went to the _groschen_. chapter viii. the new jurisprudence. the impatience of the prince, the prelate, the noble, and the wealthy burgher at the restraints which the system of the middle ages placed upon his activity as an individual in the acquisition for his own behoof and the disposal at his own pleasure of wealth, regardless of the consequences to his neighbour, found expression, and a powerful lever, in the introduction from italy of the roman law in place of the old canon and customary law of europe. the latter never regarded the individual as an independent and autonomous entity, but invariably treated him with reference to a group or social body, of which he might be the head or merely a subordinate member; but in any case the filaments of custom and religious duty attached him to a certain humanity outside himself, whether it were a village community, a guild, a township, a province, or the empire. the idea of a right to individual autonomy in his dealings with men never entered into the mediæval man's conception. hence the mere possession of property was not recognised by mediæval law as conferring any absolute rights in its holder to its unregulated use, and the basis of the mediæval notions of property was the association of responsibility and duty with ownership. in other words, the notion of _trust_ was never completely divorced from that of _possession_. the roman law rested on a totally different basis. it represented the legal ethics of a society on most of its sides brutally and crassly individualistic. that that society had come to an end instead of evolving to its natural conclusion--a developed capitalistic individualism such as exists to-day--was due to the weakness of its economic basis, owing to the limitation at that time of man's power over nature, which deprived it of recuperative and defensive power, thereby leaving it a prey not only to internal influences of decay but also to violent destructive forces from without. nevertheless, it left a legacy of a ready-made legal system to serve as an implement for the first occasion when economic conditions should be once more ready for progress to resume the course of individualistic development, abruptly brought to an end by the fall of ancient civilisation as crystallised in the roman empire. the popular courts of the village, of the mark and of the town, which had existed up to the beginning of the sixteenth century with all their ancient functions, were extremely democratic in character. cases were decided on their merits, in accordance with local custom, by a body of jurymen chosen from among the freemen of the district, to whom the presiding functionaries, most of whom were also of popular selection, were little more than assessors. the technicalities of a cut-and-dried system were unknown. the catholic germanic theory of the middle ages proper, as regards the civil power in all its functions, from the highest downward, was that of the mere administrator of justice as such; whereas the roman law regarded the magistrate as the vicegerent of the _princeps_ or _imperator_, in whose person was absolutely vested as its supreme embodiment the whole power of the state. the divinity of the emperors was a recognition of this fact; and the influence of the roman law revived the theory as far as possible under the changed conditions, in the form of the doctrine of the divine right of kings--a doctrine which was totally alien to the catholic feudal conception of the middle ages. this doctrine, moreover, received added force from the oriental conception of the position of the ruler found in the old testament, from which protestantism drew so much of its inspiration. but apart from this aspect of the question, the new juridical conception involved that of a system of rules as the crystallised embodiment of the abstract "state," given through its representatives which could under no circumstances be departed from, and which could only be modified in their operation by legal quibbles that left to them their nominal integrity. the new law could therefore only be administered by a class of men trained specially for the purpose, of which the plastic customary law borne down the stream of history from primitive times, and insensibly adapting itself to new conditions but understood in its broader aspects by all those who might be called to administer it, had little need. the roman law, the study of which was started at bologna in the twelfth century, as might naturally be expected, early attracted the attention of the german emperors as a suitable instrument for use on emergencies. but it made little real headway in germany itself as against the early institutions until the fifteenth century, when the provincial power of the princes of the empire was beginning to overshadow the central authority of the titular chief of the holy roman empire. the former, while strenuously resisting the results of its application from above, found in it a powerful auxiliary in their courts in riveting their power over the estates subject to them. as opposed to the delicately adjusted hierarchical notions of feudalism, which did not recognise any absoluteness of dominion either over persons or things, in short for which neither the head of the state had any inviolate authority as such, nor private property any inviolable rights or sanctity as such, the new jurisprudence made corner-stones of both these conceptions. even the canon law, consisting in a mass of papal decretals dating from the early middle ages, and which, while undoubtedly containing considerable traces of the influence of roman law, was nevertheless largely customary in its character with an infusion of christian ethics, had to yield to the new jurisprudence, and that too in countries where the reformation had been unable to replace the old ecclesiastical dogma and organisation. the principles and practice of the roman law were sedulously inculcated by the tribe of civilian lawyers who by the beginning of the sixteenth century infested every court throughout europe. every potentate, great and small, little as he might like its application by his feudal over-lord to himself, was yet only too ready and willing to invoke its aid for the oppression of his own vassals or peasants. thus the civil law everywhere triumphed. it became the juridical expression of the political, economical, and religious change which marks the close of the middle ages and the beginnings of the modern commercial world. it must not be supposed, however, that no resistance was made to it. everywhere in contemporary literature, side by side with denunciations of the new mercenary troops, the _landsknechte_, we find uncomplimentary allusions to the race of advocates, notaries, and procurators who, as one writer has it, "are increasing like grasshoppers in town and in country year by year". wherever they appeared, we are told, countless litigious disputes sprang up. he who had but the money in hand might readily defraud his poorer neighbour in the name of law and right. "woe is me!" exclaims one author, "in my home there is but one procurator, and yet is the whole country round about brought into confusion by his wiles. what a misery will this horde bring upon us!" everywhere was complaint and in many places resistance. as early as we find the bavarian estates vigorously complaining that all the courts were in the hands of doctors. they demanded that the rights of the land and the ancient custom should not be cast aside; but that the courts as of old should be served by reasonable and honest judges, who should be men of the same feudal livery and of the same country as those whom they tried. again in , when the evil had become still more crying, we find the estates of würtemberg petitioning duke ulrich that the supreme court "shall be composed of honourable, worthy, and understanding men of the nobles and of the towns, who shall not be doctors, to the intent that the ancient usages and customs should abide, and that it should be judged according to them in such wise that the poor man might no longer be brought to confusion". in many covenants of the end of the fifteenth century, express stipulation is made that they should not be interpreted by a doctor or licentiate, and also in some cases that no such doctor or licentiate should be permitted to reside or to exercise his profession within certain districts. great as was the economical influence of the new jurists in the tribunals, their political influence in the various courts of the empire, from the _reichskammergericht_ downwards, was, if anything, greater. says wimpfeling, the first writer on the art of education in the modern world: "according to the loathsome doctrines of the new jurisconsults, the prince shall be everything in the land and the people naught. the people shall only obey, pay tax, and do service. moreover, they shall not alone obey the prince but also those he has placed in authority, who begin to puff themselves up as the proper lords of the land, and to order matters so that the princes themselves do as little as may be reign." from this passage it will be seen that the modern bureaucratic state, in which government is as nearly as possible reduced to mechanism and the personal relation abolished, was ushered in under the auspices of the civil law. how easy it was for the civilian to effect the abolition of feudal institutions may be readily imagined by those cognisant of the principles of roman law. for example, the roman law of course making no mention of the right of the mediæval "estates" to be consulted in the levying of taxes or in other questions, the jurist would explain this right to his too willing master, the prince, as an abuse which had no legal justification, and which, the sooner it were abolished in the interest of good government the better it would be. all feudal rights as against the power of an over-lord were explained away by the civil jurist, either as pernicious abuses, or, at best, as favours granted in the past by the predecessors of the reigning monarch, which it was within his right to truncate or to abrogate at his will. from the preceding survey will be clearly perceived the important rôle which the new jurisprudence played on the continent of europe in the gestation of the new phase which history was entering upon in the sixteenth century. even the short sketch given will be sufficient to show that it was not in one department only that it operated; but that, in addition to its own domain of law proper, its influence was felt in modifying economical, political, and indirectly even ethical and religious conditions. from this time forth feudalism slowly but surely gave place to the newer order, all that remained being certain of its features, which, crystallised into bureaucratic forms, were doubly veneered with a last trace of mediæval ideas and a denser coating of civilian conceptions. this transitional europe, and not mediæval europe, was the europe which lasted on until the eighteenth century, and which practically came to an end with the french revolution. appendices. appendix a. the following is a rescript issued by a commission of the reichstag held at nürnberg in - , anent the commercial syndicates which the sudden development of the world-market had recently called into existence:-- "what the small commission by order of the great commission hath determined concerning the monopolia or pernicious and prohibited commerce is hereafter related." (mss. of pages in the ernestine general archives at weimar, margin e. quoted by egelhaaf. appendix, vol. i.) "in the first place, concerning the origin of the word monopolia. monopolia is a greek word, from the word monos, that is, alone, and polonia, that is, a selling. as if one should say: i alone sell this or that, or my company or i alone sell. therefore, such separate dealing whereby several dealers or traders unite together in such wise that they alone obtain profit from their handicraft or merchandy is called monopolia. this is discoursed of in lege unica (?), cod. de monopoliis. "item, the aforesaid monopolia, uniting, combining, associatings and their sellings have not now for the first time been found not to be borne; but the same were regarded and known as very noxious to the commonweal, destructive and worthy to be punished, as aforetime by the roman emperors and jurisconsults, and more especially by the blessed emperor justinian, so that such trespassers should be made to lose all their goods, and moreover should be adjudged to eternal misery (exile) from their own homes, as standeth written lege unica, cod. de monop. honorius also and theodosius forbade those of noble birth and those of the richer sort from harmful commerce; so that the common folk might the more easily buy of the merchants; and in the reichstag at köln in the matter was much debated by the emperor maximilian, the electors, the princes and the estates, and the aforesaid increase in the price of wares was forbidden under great pains and penalties. the decree of the reichstag sayeth:-- "and since much great fellowship in trade hath arisen within the realm in the last years, and also there be several and sundry persons who venture to bring all kinds of wares and merchants' goods, such as spices, arras, woollen cloth, and such-like into their own hand with power to trade in them, to set or to make their own advantage out of them, as it them pleaseth, and do greatly harm thereby the holy empire and all estates thereof, contrary to the imperial written law and to all honesty: we have ordered and enacted for the furthering of the common profit and according to necessity, and we do desire that earnestly, and we will, that such noxious dealing be henceforth forbidden, and that they abstain [from it], and that henceforth they may [not] carry it on or exercise it. those who shall do this contrary to the aforesaid, their goods and chattels shall be confiscated and fall to the authority of the place. and the same companies and merchants [shall] henceforth not be conducted [on their journeys] by any authority in the empire, nor shall it be lawful for such to do so with whatsoever words, opinion or clauses the convoy hath been given. yet shall it not be forbidden to any man on this account to enter into company with any other save only if he undertake to bring the wares into one hand and to place upon the wares a worth according to his own mind and pleasure; or shall pledge the buyer or seller to sell, to give, or to keep such wares to or for no man but himself, or that he shall not give them save such wise as he hath agreed with him. but when they, to whom it is permitted to pursue such trade, shall seek to make an unbecoming dearness, the authority shall with zeal and earnestness forbid such dearness, and command an honest sale; but where an authority be careless, the fiscal shall exhort the same to perform his duty within the space of one month, failing such hath the fiscal power to enter process against him. "but the authority and the fiscal have neither done their duty, as is not right nor just, forasmuch as in the present times other small robbers and thieves are punished sorely, and these rich companies, even one of them, do in the year compass much more undoing to the commonweal than all other robbers and thieves in that they and their servants give public display of luxuriousness, pomp and prodigal wealth, of which there is no small proof in that bartholomew rhem did win, in so short a time and with so little stock of trade, such notable riches in the hochstetter company--as hath openly appeared in the justifying before the city court at augsburg and at the reichstag but lately held at worms. therefore hath the said rhem been made prisoner in worms, and is even still kept in durance. moreover shall he be sent here to nürnberg that he may bear witness, and that it may be known with what perils the aforesaid forbidden monopolies and trade be practised, also through what good ways and means such may be set aside and prevented. "there are three questions to be discoursed of: ( ) whether the monopolies be hurtful to the holy empire and therefore are to be destroyed; ( ) whether all companies without difference shall be done away, or whether a measure shall be set to them; ( ) by what means this shall be done, and how these things may be remedied. "i. firstly, that the great companies and the heaping up of their stocks are everywhere harmful is the one cause as may be seen from the spice, which is the most considerable merchandise thus dealt and traded with, in the german nation. it is said with credibility that the king of portugal hath not to pay more for one pound's weight of pepper sent from the indies to antwerp than three shillings in gold, twenty of which shillings go to a rhenish gulden. but also if a company in portugal doth send for spices it hath no trouble and excuse. how dear soever the king doth offer or give the wares, it payeth him sometimes yet more, but on condition that he shall not furnish such wares to them who will hereafter buy, save for a still greater price. to this example it may be added that he who hath offered an hundred-weight of pepper from portugal for eighteen ducats hath received for them twenty ducats or even more, with the condition that the royal majesty shall furnish to none other for the space of one or two years the same pepper or wares cheaper than twenty-four ducats, and thereby one hath so outbidden the other that the spice which at the first could be sold but for eighteen ducats is now sold in portugal for thirty-four ducats and up-wards. and it hath become at one time well-nigh as dear as it was ever before. the same hath also happened to other spices with which such merchants are nothing burdened, nor do they have any loss there-withal, but great over-abounding gain, the while they, for their part, will sell as dearly as they may, and none else in the holy empire may have or obtain the same. what loss and disadvantage resulteth to most men, even to the least, is not hard to be comprehended. we may prove this from the nürnberg spice convoys. the saffron of most price, so called from the catalonian place saffra, hath cost some years ago, as namely in the sixteenth year, two and a half gulden, six kreutzers; now in the twenty-second year it costeth five and a half gulden, fifteen kreutzers. the best saffron, which is called zymer by the merchants, hath cost from to two gulden the pound, and even in two gulden, twenty-four to twenty-six kreutzers; now it costeth four gulden; and even so are all saffrons more dear, arragonian, polish, avernian, etcetera. "the merchants, moreover, do not make dear everything at the same time, but now with saffron and cloves, the one year with pepper and ginger, then with nutmeg, etcetera, to the intent that their advantage may not at once be seen of men. it is therefore purposed to make an enquiry of how much spices are brought into germany each year, so that it may be known how much the tax upon these spices would bring in, in so far as the merchants make a small increase to each pound, as happeneth very commonly. it hath been ordered to the merchants to make estimation thereof, but their estimations were diverse; yet are the numbers told for the spices which each year go in from lisabon [lisbon] alone, so that there may be had better knowledge. , hundred-weight of pepper and not less but rather the more; hundred-weight of ginger, about balls of saffron do come from lisabon alone, without that which cometh from venice. for the other spices they do not make known the sum. at antwerp this may be known the more surely, through the due which is there levied. "the companies have paid especial note to such wares as can be the least spared; and if one be not rich enough, it goeth for help to another, and the twain together do bring the wares, whatsoever they be, wholly into their own hand. if a poor, small merchant buy of them these same wares, whose worth hath been cunningly enhanced, and if he desireth to trade with these wares, according to his needs, then these aforesaid great hucksters are from that hour upon his neck, they have the abundance of these same wares, and can give them cheaper and on longer borrowing; thereby is this poor man oppressed, cometh to harm and some to destruction. ofttimes do they buy back their wares through unknown persons, but not to the gain of them that sell; therefore it is that they have their storehouses in well-nigh all places in europe; and here lieth the cause of the magnificence of the heaping up of stock. "the great companies do lessen trading and consuming in the lands. they do all their business in far countries and by letters; where now there is a great company, there aforetime did twenty or more [persons], it may be, nourish themselves, who must all now wander afar, because they cannot hold a storehouse and servants in other places. by these means came it to pass that roads, tolls and convoy dues were multiplied, as innkeepers and all handiworkers of use and pleasure have knowledge; for many sellers bring good sale and cheapness into the wares. "furthermore, the good gold and silver monies are brought out of the land by the companies, who everywhere do buy them up and change them. within a short time rhenish gold will have been changed and melted from far-seeking lust of gain. therefore are there already in divers towns risings of the poor man, which, where it be not prevented, will, it is to be feared, extend further and more. "ii. _now it be asked, are all companies to be therefore destroyed?_ we have now already shown cause why the great companies mighty in money should be scattered and not be borne with. but, therefore, it is not said that all companies and common trading should be wholly cut away; this were indeed against the commonweal and very burdensome, harmful and foolish to the whole german nation; for therefrom would follow ( ) that one should give strength, help and fellowship to frenchmen and foreign nations, that they should undertake and carry out that which with so much pains we have gone forth to destroy. these foreign nations would then suck out the whole german land. ( ) furthermore, if each would trade singly and should lose thereby, that would then be to his undoing, and also to theirs who had entrusted to him their goods. that may not happen where divers persons join together with moderation. ( ) such a forbidding would solely serve the rich to their advantage, who in all cases everywhere do pluck the grain for themselves and do leave the chaff for others. of these rich, some are so placed that they are able even to do that which now great companies do and which is thought to be so sore an oppression. therewith would the matter not be bettered, but only a covering would be set upon it. ( ) trading and industry do bring this with them, that the wares should not be sought in one place alone. one man is not able, and more especially not at the time when there is need thereof. the issue would be that trade in the land would be forbidden and it would serve the gain of foreign nations, and especially at this time [hurt?] the germans; but to hire servants and to send such in his stead to another place needs money, and small stocks will hardly bear the holding of domestics; many there be, indeed, who are not able to provide for themselves, let alone for servants. "iii. what proposals are now to be put forth for the staying of the aforesaid forbidden practice? "( ) companies or single persons shall use no more than twenty thousand, forty thousand, or for the most fifty thousand gulden stock for trade, and shall have no more than three storehouses outside their family dwelling. "( ) they shall be held by their bodily sworn vows to declare to their authority that they have no more money in trade. "( ) their stock may not be enhanced by gain; but rather, at farthest, account must be made every two years and the gain divided, also a notifying to the authority must be made that the reckoning and the distributing hath been fulfilled. "( ) no money may be lent with usury for purpose of trade, for this is ungodly and usurious, also harmful and noxious to the commonweal, without weighing of gain and of loss to take or to give monies or usury. "( ) no sort of ware may be brought into one hand. "( ) dispersed companies may not join themselves together, on pain of losing all their goods. "( ) no merchant may buy at one buying more than hundred-weight of pepper, hundred-weight of ginger, and of no manner of spice which hath the name, more than hundred-weight; also after such buying he may not buy or trade any more of the same ware for the fourth part of a year. "( ) inasmuch as especial nimbleness is used by the great companies, the which have their knowledge in many lands, when the wares spoil or when they come into greater worth, so as they make foreign merchants buy up from others that have such wares and bring the same into their hands before the others do know of such loss. therefrom there followeth a great dearness of the ware. for the other part the punishment may be best set in such wise that should such a harmful sale be disclosed within four weeks from the making thereof, the buyer shall be bound thereunto that he surrender his ware again to the seller for the one half that was paid therefor; the other half part of the price falleth to the authority. "( ) on pain of loss of the goods, as hath been determined in köln, the seller may not make condition that the buyer shall not dare to give away the wares for a lesser price. "( ) in order that foreign nations may not be healed and bettered the while german land is oppressed and despoiled, it is commanded that this ordinance shall bind all foreigners born without who have their storehouse within the empire; so that a foreigner, whether a frenchman or whatsoever he may be, that tradeth in the holy empire and is encompassed by this ordinance, shall and must suffer all penalties even as other merchants born in this country, that do transgress. this shall also bind all principalities, lordships and cities, even though they be free, to the intent that it shall be held equally for all men, and that none shall therein be spared. "( ) through the voyaging of german merchants to portugal there ariseth great evil, in that in lisabon, because of the shipping from portugal to the indies with spices and other matters, there be great storehouses and very bold buying and selling, such as can in no wise else exist in one place, and therefore in that place ariseth the great due and enhancement of every manner of spice and ware which are borne away from thence, the same also with the pennyworths which they use up even in portugal, and may not succeed with till they be once more shipped from the indies to that city. to this end must every ware that cometh from portugal be ventured on the sea by germans and be bound upon the wheel of fortune; and the voyage to portugal is well-nigh more fearsome and dangerous than is that to the indies. in few years on this same sea hath the worth of fifteen hundreds of thousands of gulden been drowned and perished; and yet nevertheless are the merchant folk, who have inherited but little, become so unspeakably rich. therefore shall all shipping to portugal be forbidden; the portuguese shall themselves take in hand the venture and their wares, and those that they may not keep they shall bring to germany; for if one doth not thus pursue them, they must perforce sell at a lesser price. others do affirm, indeed, that if the portuguese do bring their wares to antorff (antwerp), then would the great companies find there also means to buy up the wares; and the king of portugal may be moved to get the ware to danzig or egen merten (aigues mortes) in france, so that the germans must fetch them thence. but others would show, forsooth, that because of his receiving of the metals he cannot spare germany, and without them he can do no trade to the indies; one must therefore but hinder his receiving of the metals, and thus shall one compel him not to trade to france. "( ) there shall be a fixing of the price of some wares, to the end that not merely is it ordered for the common hucksters and merchant folk, but also for them that buy these wares for their own use and pleasure. it is to fear that also the scattered companies do agree together secretly to sell over the price; moreover, hath the king of portugal the spices in his power alone, and since that time can he set the prices as he will, because for no manner of dearness will they rest unsold among the germans. moreover, it hath been related from refel and lubeck that the king of denmark and the fuggers stand in trade, the one with the other, that all merchants' goods that have hitherto come from muscey (moscow) into the german trading cities shall further come to denmark, and into the might of the king thereof and of the fuggers, to the end that they may enhance the same at their pleasure. thus far have men not punished such things with just pains, but have wittingly borne with them. such can alone be made riddance of by a forbidding, that they and the wares may not be sold in germany higher than for a price determined. _the regiment (imperial governing body) shall tax each ware by the hundred-weight to a fixed sum._ as measure shall the customary middle prices serve as they have been wont to be before the wares have come into the power of the king of portugal and of the great, hurtful, forbidden companies. but question may be made: what though the wares should miscarry? then shall the merchant folk recover themselves in them that do succeed. but what if there be lack of those wares? the foreigners can far less spare our money than we their wares; therefore is there in the empire no long enduring, hurtful lack to be feared; _unless it should be that one should esteem the not giving out in vain of money for a lack_. by such ordinance shall the danger of the overweening raising of prices be best hindered. in the matter of the dues the remoteness of the places can be made consideration of, also the diversness of the measures and the weights; thus will the pepper in the storehouse in frankfort be taxed at one kreutzer the pound and even so in nürnberg. the due shall begin one half-year after the determination thereof by the imperial estates. "further, it shall not be that the merchants shall lend money to the poor folk upon pledge of the seed that standeth in the field, or upon the grapes of the vine-stems and other fruits, whereby these poor, needy people have that taken from them that they do hardly earn. "thereupon shall follow penalties for all transgressors as for careless authorities; the leave that each may indite before the fiscal; the determination that all confiscated goods wherewith transgressions have been committed shall fall, the half to the imperial fiscus, the half to the [local] authority. the fiscal shall also proceed against the companies which have enriched themselves openly against right and justice; if this do befal, it shall not alone feed the fiscus but shall also warn others to guard themselves from such evil hurtfulness. the ordinance concerning the sale, etc., shall be put in work two months after it hath been proclaimed. "it be also considered that the safe conduct of the highways is beneficial to the merchants' calling, so that all traders may traffic and travel more safely on the highways of the holy empire than hath befallen for long time past. "it chanceth that certain merchants deceitfully in the seeming of trust and faith do take the goods of other men by making bankruptcy, which is like unto a theft, and he who doth of purpose strive after another man's money and goods shall be punished hardly. "in fine, there be imperial measures and weights needed; for the falsifying of cloths and wares it behoveth a grievous treatment, and the estates are warned to beware of cunning and greedy and suborned procurations, whereby this ordinance may be brought to nought by the companies." (n.b.--hereby is meant according to a notice from another hand: "by a bribing of the authorities so that by their _favor_ and _patrocinium_ the pains of this ordinance may be escaped".) * * * * * i have given the above document at length, as it is curious and instructive, for more than one reason. in the first place, it indicates the imperial german centralisation in several ways attempted during the reigns of maximilian and charles v., on the lines of the recent centralising administrations of england, france and spain. it also shows us germany commanding the bullion of europe to a great extent. this was, of course, in consequence of the wealth of the trading cities, especially of the hanse and bavarian towns. the importance of the spice trade is also strikingly illustrated; and on this point the document may well give rise to various reflections as to the character of late mediæval cookery. last, but not least, we see the hostility of the proud feudal prince or baron and his legal assessor to the _parvenu_ and _nouveau riche_ then for the first time appearing on the scene. _i._ (_im auszug_). . _was der kleine ausschuss auf befehl des grossen ausschusses, der monopolia oder schädlichen verbotenen verkauf halb geratschlagt hat, wird nachher erzählt._ (_handschrift von seiten im ernestinischen gesamt archiv zu weimar. registrande e._) _erstlich von dem ursprung des wortes monopolia. monopolia ist ein kriegerisch wort, welches seinen ursprung hat von dem worte monos, das ist allein, und polonie, das ist verkauf. gleich als spräche jemand: ich allein verkauf das oder jenes, oder; meine gesellschaft oder ich allein verkaufe. darum wird solche sonderliche hantierung, als ob sich etliche hantierer oder kaufleute dermassen vereinigen, dass sie allen den nutzen aus ihrem handwerk oder kaufmannschaft empfangen, monopolia genannt. davon ist gesagt in lege vinca (?) cod. de monopoliis._ _item obengemeldete monopolia, vereinigung, verbindung, gesellschaften und ihr verkauf wird nicht allein allererst jetzt dem gemeinen nutzen unleidlich und unerträglich erfunden, sondern sind dieselben wie vor durch den römischen kaiser und rechtsetzer und sonderlich durch den löblichen kaiser justinio, dem gemeinen nutzen als fast schädlich, verderblich und sträflich geacht und erkannt, dass dieselben Überführer_ [_Übertreter_] _alle ihre güter verloren und dazu ausserhalb ihrer wohnung in ewiges elend (verbannung) verurteilt sein sollen, als geschrieben steht lege vinca cod. de mono. auch honorius und theodosius haben denen vom adel und den reicheren die schädliche kaufmannschaft verboten, damit das gemeine volk leichter bei den kaufleuten kaufen könne, und auf dem reichstag zu köln ist die sache von kaiser maximilian, kurfürsten, fürsten und ständen hoch bewegt und gemeldete verteurung der waren bei grossen peenen und strafen verboten worden. der abschied dieses reichstags sagt:--_ _und nachdem etwa viel grosse gesellschaft in kaufmannschaft in kurzen jahren im reich aufgestanden, auch etliche sondere personen seien, die allerlei waren und kaufmannsgüter wie spezerei, artz, wollene tücher und dergleichen in ihre hand und gewalt zu bringen unterstehn, verkauf damit zu treiben, setzen und machen ihnen zu vorteil gewertet ihres gefallens, fügen damit dem heiligen reiche und allen ständen desselben merklichen schaden zu, wider gemein geschriebenes kaiserliche recht und aller ehrbarkeit: haben wir zu förderung gemeinen nutzens und der notdurft nach georduct und gesetzt, und tun das hiermit ernstlich, und wollen dass solche schädliche handierung hinfüro verboten und abstehn und die hinfüro treiben oder üben. welche herwider solches tun wurden [werden] der [deren] habe und güter soll confisciert und der oberkeit jiglichs orts verfallen sein. und dieselben gesellschaften und kaufleute hinfüro durch keine obrigkeit im reich geleitet werden, sie auch desselben nicht fähig sein, mit was worten, meinung oder clauseln solch geleit gegeben wurden. doch soll hiedurch niemand verboten sein sich mit jemand in gesellschaft zu tun, um waren die ihm gefallen zu kaufen und zu verhandieren, dann allein, dass er die ware nicht unterstehe in eine hand zu bringen und derselben ware einen wert nach seinem willen und gefallen zu setzen, oder dem käufer oder verkäufer andingen, solche ware niemandem denn ihm zu kaufen, zu geben oder zu behalten, oder dass er sie nicht mehr geben will, wie er mit ihm überein gekommen sei (wa wie er mit ihme überkomen hette). wenn aber die, welchen so kaufmannschaft zu treiben erlaubt ist, unziemliche teurung zu machen sich unterstehn, so soll die oberkeit mit fleiss und ernst, solche teuerung abschaffen und redlichen kauf verfügen. wo aber eine oberkeit lässig wäre, soll der fiscal sie mahnen in monatsfrist das ihre zu tun; andernfalls hat er macht gegen sie zu procedieren._ _allein die oberkeit und der fiscal haben das ihre nicht getan, das denn weder gut noch recht ist, dieweil doch je zu zeiten andere kleine räuber und diebe hart (als hertiglich) gestraft werden, und diese reichen gesellschaften eine des jahrs den gemeinen nutzen viel mehr weder [als] alle andere strachräuber und diebe beschädigen, wie dann das ihr und ihrer diener köstlichkeit, pracht und überschwenglicher reichtum öffentliche anzeigung gibt. derselben nicht kleine anzeigung hat man auch daraus, dass bartholome rhem gar in kurzer zeit mit so wenigem hauptgut in der hochsteter gesellschaft als einmerklich gut gewonnen hat, wie dann das in der rechtfertigung am stadtgericht zu augsburg und auf jüngst gehaltenem reichstag zu worms offenbar gemacht ist. man hat den rhem deshalb in worms gefänglich eingebracht, da er denn noch jetzt gefänglich enthalten wird. man soll ihn hieher nach nürnberg erfordern, damit er zeugnis ablegt und man erfährt, mit waserlei gefährlichkeit obengemeldete verbotene monopolien und verkauf geübt werden, auch durch welche guten mitteln wege solchem zuvorzukommen und abzuwenden ist._ _drei fragen sind hierüber zu stellen. ( ) ob die monopolien dem heiligen reiche schädlich und deshalb abzuthun sind. ( ) ob alle gesellschaften ohne unterschied abgethan werden sollen oder ob ihnen ein mass zu setzen sei. ( ) durch was für mittel dieses geschehen und wie diesen sachen geholfen werden kann._ _i. erstlich dass die grossen gesellschaften und haufung ihrer hauptgüter männiglich nachteilig sind, ist die eine ursache und will es an der spezerei, welches der vornehmste stücke eines ist, so in deutscher nation verführt und hantiert werden, ansehen. man sagt glaublich, dass der [dem?] könig von portugal pfund pfeffer aus indien bis nach antwerpen zu liefern, über drei schilling in gold, deren zwanzig ein rheinischer gulden tut, nicht zu stehen komme. so aber eine gesellschaft in portugal nach spezerei schickt, so habe sie keine beschwerde und einrede, wie teuer der könig solche waare beut oder gibt, bezahle ihm sogar zu zeiten noch mehr, nur mit dem geding, dass er solche ware andern, die hernach kaufen wollen, noch teurer gebe. des zu einem exempel mag gesetzt werden: so der von portugal einen centner pfeffer um dukaten etwa geboten hat, haben sie ihm oder noch mehr darum gegeben, doch mit dem geding, dass die königliche würde in einem oder zwei jahren keinem andern desselben pfeffer oder ware näher [billiger] denn um dukaten geben soll, und so einer den andern gesteigert, dass die spezerei, so erstlich um dukaten erlangt werden mochte, itzund [jetzt] in portugal über dukaten kauft wird. und ist also shier noch einsten [einmal] so teuer geworden als es vorher gewesen. dergleichen mit andern spezereien auch geschehen ist, davon solchen kaufleuten nichts gelegen, noch sie einigen verlust, sondern grossen überschwänglichen gewinn haben dieweil sie wiederum, so teuer sie wollen, geben mögen, und sonst niemand im heiligen reiche dieselbe haben oder bekommen mag. was schätzung und nachteil den meisten bis auf den mindesten daraus erfolgt, ist nicht schwer zu gedenken. man kann dies aus den nürnberger spezerei-reisen beweisen. der höchste saffra, so kathelonisch ort saffra genannt wird, hat vor etlichen jahren, als nämlich im , dritthalb gulden sechs kreuzer gegolten; jetzt kostet er, im jahr, fünfhalb gulden kreuzer. der beste saffran, so von den kaufleuten zymer genannt wird, hat pro pfund - gulden und noch gulden - kreuzer gegolten, jetzt gilt er gulden; ebenso sind alle saffrane, arragonischer, polnischer, avernischer aufgestiegen, u. s. w._ _die kaufleute schlagen auch nicht mit allem auf einmal auf, sondern jetzt mit saffran und nägelien, das eine jahr mit pfeffer und ingwer, dann noch mit muskatnuß u. s. w., damit ihr vorteil nicht verstanden werden soll. man will deshalb eine erhebung anstellen, wie viel spezerei jährlich nach deutschland gebracht wird, damit man weiss, so die kaufleute auf ein jedes pfund einen kleinen anschlag machen, was es in solch grosser menge tut, und damit abnehmen kann, was ein zoll auf diese spezerei ertrüge. man hat auch schon von kaufleuten sich angaben machen lassen, welche aber abweichend waren, doch werden die ziffern genannt für die spezereien, welche allein jährlich aus lissabon eingehen, damit man bessere erkundigung einziehen könne. , centner pfeffer und nicht darunter; che darüber; centner ingwer; auf ballen saffran kommen allein von lissabon, ohne das was von venedig kommt. der andern spezereien wissen sie keine summe anzuzeigen. genaueres kann man in antwerpen vermittelst des dort erhobenen zolls erfahren._ _die gesellschaften haben es besonders auf die waren abgesehen, deren man am wenigsten geraten [entbehren] mag; und wenn eine nicht reich genug ist, so nimmt sie eine andere zu hilfe und beide bringen dann die betreffende ware ganz in ihre hand. wenn ein armer kleiner kaufmann von ihnen dieselbe aufgezurgene ware kaufen und dann die ware andernfalls seiner nahrung nach vertreiben will, so sind ihm gedachte grosse hantierungen von stund an auf dem nacken, haben den Überschwall derselben ware, können sie wohlfeiler, auch auf langem burgk [borg] hingeben; damit wird dieser armer bedrängt, kommt zu schaden und etliche zu verderb. manchmal kaufen sie auch ihnen ihre waren durch urkundliche personen, doch nicht ihnen zu gut, wieder ab; das schafft, dass sie schier an allen orten im ganzen europa ihre gelager halten; ursach das ist der pracht des grossen haubtgutz._ _die grossen gesellschaften mindern die hantierung und zehrung in den landen. sie richten alles über land und in briefen aus; wo jetzt eine grosse gesellschaft ist, da nährten sich sonst wohl oder mehr, die alle webern und wandeln mussten, weil sie keine lager und diener an andern orten halten konnten. dadurch wurden die strassen gebaut, zoll und geleit gemehrt, desgleichen wie wirte und alle handwerk des nutzens und geniessen empfinden; denn viel verkäufer bringen gut kauf und wohlfeilheit der waren._ _weiter kommt die gute goldene und silberne münz durch die gesellschaften, welche sie überall aufkaufen und einwechseln, ausser landes. binnen kurzer zeit wird aus weit gesuchtem eigennutz rheinisch gold ausgewechselt, verführt und verschmelzt sein. deshalb sind auch schon in etlichen städten empörungen des gemainen mannes entstanden, was, wo es nicht abgewendet wird, noch weiter und mehr zu besorgen ist._ _man fragt sich ii., sollen deshalb alle gesellschaften abgetan werden? das die grossen geldmächtigen gesellschaften zu vertrennen und nicht zu dulden sind ist die ursach oben angezeigt. deshalb sollen aber nicht alle gesellschaften und versammelte hantierungen gänzlich abgeschnitten sein; wär wider gemeinen nutzen, auch ganzer deutscher nation sehr hoch beschwerlich, nachteilig und verfächtlich; dann daraus würde folgen ( ) dass man franzosen und äussern nationen stärke, hilf und handreichung gäbe, dasjenige für zu nehmen und zu treiben, das man jetzt so hoch beschwerlich abzutun fürhat. diese fremden nationen würden das ganze deutsche land dann aussaugen. ( ) wenn ferner alle allein handeln würden und einem schaden entstünde, so würde ihm das zum verderben gereichen, und auch denen, welche ihm das ihre anvertraut hätten. das kann nicht geschehen, wo mehrere personen mit mass sich vereinigen. ( ) würde ein solches verbot allein den reichen zum vorteil dienen, welche ohnehin allenthalben die körner für sich ziehen und die spreu den andern lassen. von diesen reichen sind einige so gestellt, dass sie eben dasjenige zu tun vermöchten, was jetzt grosse gesellschaften tun und was man für so herb beschwerlich achtet. damit würde der sache nicht geholfen, sondern ihr nur ein deckel aufgesetzt sein. ( ) hantierung und gewerb bringen es mit sich, dass man die ware nicht blos an einem orte suchen muss; dazu ist eine einzige person nicht im stande, und namentlich nicht zu der zeit, wo es etwa notdurft ist. die folge wäre, dass man dem handel das land verbieten, fremden nationen nutzen schaffen, die deutschen aber drucken und bösern würde. diener aber anzunehmen und solche an seiner statt an andere orte zu schicken erfordert geld, und kleine hauptgüter ertragen kaum das halten von knechten; viele können sich selbst nicht, zu geschweigen diener, hinbringen._ _iii. welche vorschläge sind nun zur ablehnung gemeldeter verbotener, böser verkäufe zu machen?_ ( ) _es sollen gesellschaften oder sondere personen nur bis zu , , , oder zum meisten , gulden hauptgut zum handel gebrauchen und nicht mehr als drei lager ausserhalb ihrer häuslichen wohnung haben._ ( ) _sie sollen gehalten sein, bei ihren leiblichen geschworenen eidespflichten ihrer obrigkeit anzusagen, dass sie nicht mehr geld im handel haben._ ( ) _dieses hauptgut darf nicht durch gewinn vermehrt werden; vielmehr muss längstens alle zwei jahre rechnung getan und der gewinn verteilt, auch der oberkeit davon anzeige gemacht werden, dass die rechnung und austeilung erfolgt ist._ ( ) _es darf zu handelszwecken kein geld um zinskauf entlehnt werden, da dies ungottlich und wucherlich, auch gemeinem nutzen nachteilig und schädlich ist, ohne wagnis gewinns und verlusts geld oder zins zu nehmen oder zu geben._ ( ) _keinerlei ware darf in eine hand gebracht werden._ ( ) _zertrennte gesellschaften dürfen sich nicht vereinigen, bei verlierung aller ihrer güter._ ( ) _kein kaufmann darf auf einen kauf mehr über centner pfeffer, centner ingwer und von keinerlei spezerei, wie die namen hat, über centner kaufen, auch nach solchem kauf in einem vierteljahr derselben ware keine mehr führen oder kaufen._ ( ) _nachdem von den grossen gesellschaften eine sondere behendigkeit gebraucht wird, dieweil sie in vielen landen ihr wissen haben, wann die waren verderben oder in aufschlag kommen, so machen sie fremde kaufleute, die andern, so solche waren haben, abkaufen, und bringen dieselben zu ihren händen, ehe die andern solchs schadens gewahr werden. daraus folgt dann ein grosser aufschlag der ware. dagegen setzt man am besten die strafe, dass, so sich ein solcher gefährlicher verkauf in vier wochen den nächsten darnach erfunden, dass dann der abkäufer soll verpflichtet sein, dem verkäufer seine ware um das halbe kaufgeld wieder zuzustellen, weil er es ihm abgekauft hat der andere halbe teil der kaufsumme soll dann der obrigkeit verfallen sein._ ( ) _bei strafe des verlusts der güter, wie in köln bestimmt worden ist, darf der verkäufer die bedingung nicht machen, dass der käufer die ware nicht näher [billiger] geben dürfe._ ( ) _damit nicht fremde nationen geheilt und gebessert, aber das deutsche land bezwungen und verderbt werden, ist bedacht, dass diese ordnung auch alle fremden, die lager im reiche haben, binden soll. so indem ein walch [welscher], franzos oder wer er sei, im heiligen reich hantierte und in dieser ordnung begriffen, soll und muss er alle strafen wandeln und kehren, wie andere inländische überfahrende kaufleute. dass soll alle fürstentümer, herrschaften und städte, ob die gleich indem dafür gefreiet wären, auch beflissen und binden, damit es gegen männiglich gleich gehalten und niemand hierin geschont werde._ ( ) _durch das fahren deutscher kaufleute nach portugal entsteht grosser schaden, weil in lissabon wegen der schiffung von portugal nach indien mit spezerei und anderem die grossen niederlagen und tapfersten käufe und gewerbe sind, die sonst mindert an einigen orten bestehen könnten, und deshalb dort die grossen zoll schatzung von allerlei spezereien und waren, die von dannen weggeführt werden, der gleichen auch von der pfennigwerten [verkaufsartikeln] die sie in portugal selbst verbrauchen und nicht geraten, mögen als die wieder hinein in india und an den ort geschifft werden, aufkommen. dazu muss alle ware, welche von portugal kommt, von deutschen auf der see gewagt und aufs glücksrad gebunden werden, und die fahrt nach portugal ist schier mehr sorglich und gefährlich als die nach indien; in wenig jahren sind auf derselben see über , , gulden wert ertrunken und verdorben, und trotzdem sind die kaufleute, welche wenig ererbt haben, so unaussprechlich reich geworden. deshalb soll alle schiffung nach portugal verboten werden; die portugiesen sollen selbst das wagnis übernehmen und ihre ware, die sie doch nicht behalten können, nach deutschland bringen; wenn man ihnen so nicht nachläuft, werden sie auch billiger verkaufen müssen. andere bemerken nun freilich, dass wenn die portugiesen auch die ware nach antorff [antwerpen] bringen, so würden die grossen gesellschaften auch dort wege finden, die waren aufzukaufen; auch könne der könig von portugal bewogen werden, die ware nach danzig oder egen merten [aigues mortes] in frankreich zu schaffen, so dass die deutschen sie dort holen müssten. allein andere zeigen an, dass er wegen des zugangs der metalle deutschland nicht entbehren und ohne dieselben gegen india nichts schaffen könnte; man dürfe ihm also nur den zugang der metalle versperren, so werde man ihn zwingen können, nicht nach frankreich zu handeln._ ( ) _soll eine satzung etlicher waren vorgenommen werden, damit nicht blos für die gemeinen hantierer und kaufleute gesorgt ist, sondern auch für die, so diese waren zu ihrer niessung und gebrauch kaufen. es ist zu besorgen, dass auch die getrennten gesellschaften sich heimlich über die preise verständigen; auch hat der könig von portugal die spezerei allein in seiner gewalt, und seither kann er preise setzen wie er will, weil sie bei den deutschen wegen keiner verteuerung ungekauft blieben. auch ist von refel [reval] und lübeck angezeigt worden, dass der könig von dänemark und die fucker miteinander in handlung stehen, dass alle kaufmannsgüter, so seither aus der muscey [moskau] in deutsche handelsstädte kommen, fürder nach dänemark und in des königs und der fucker gewalt kommen sollen, damit sie dieselben nach gefallen verteuern können. bisher hat man solche dinge nicht mit rechter peen gestraft, sondern wissiglich geduldet. dem kann nur ein verbot abhelfen, dass die und die waren in deutschland nicht höher als zu einem bestimmten satz verkauft werden dürften. das regiment soll eine jede ware den zentner auf eine hauptsumme taxieren. als massstab sollen die gewöhnlichen mittelpreise gelten, wie sie bestanden haben, ehe die waren in die gewalt des königs von portugal und der grossen schädlichen verbotenen gesellschaften kamen. man wendet freilich ein; wenn die waren missraten? dann werden die kaufleute sich bei den wohlgeratenen erholen. wenn mangel an solchen waren entsteht? die fremden können unser geld gar viel weniger entbehren, als wir ihre waren; deshalb ist im reich kein langwieriger schädlicher mangel zu besorgen; man wollt denn unnütz geld ausgeben für einen mangel achten. durch solche satzung wird die gefahr übermässiger steigerung der preise am besten verhütet werden. bei den taxen kann die entlegenheit der Örter in betracht gezogen werden auch die verschiedenheit der ellen und gewichte; so wird der pfeffer an der hand in frankfurt das pfund auf kreuzer taxiert, ebenso in nürnberg. die taxe soll ein halbes jahr nach beschliessung durch die reichsstände angehen._ _weiter soll nicht sein, dass die kaufleute dem armen volke auf den samen, so noch auf dem feld steht, auf die trauben an den stöcken und andere frucht geld leihen; dadurch diesen armen notdürftigen lenten das genommen wird, was sie härtiglich erarbeiten._ _darauf folgen strafen für alle Überfahrer, für die lässigen obrigkeiten; die erlaubnis, dass jeder fiskal klagen darf; die bestimmung, dass alle konfiszierten güter hälftig dem reichsfiskus, hälftig der obrigkeit zufallen sollen, darunter solche verbrechen geschehen. der fiskal soll auch gegen die gesellschaften, welche sich seither offenbar widerrechlich bereichert haben, vorgehen; geschicht dies, so wird das nicht allein den fiskus speisen, sondern auch andere warnen; sich vor dergleichen böser beschädigung zu hüten. die ordnung, betreffend den verkauf u. s. w. soll zwei monate nach ihrer verkündigung angehen._ _ist auch bewogen, dass befriedung der strassen dem kaufmannsgewerb fürträglich sei, damit alle hantierer auf des heiligen reichs strassen sicherer, dann etliche zeit her geschehen ist, webern und ziehen mögen._ _es kommt vor, dass etliche kaufleute betrüglich im schein trauens und glaubens den leuten das ihre nehmen durch bankrottieren, was einem diebstahl vergleichbar ist, und wer andere fürsätzlich an geld und gut ansetzt soll streng gestraft werden._ _endlich werden reichsmasse und-gewichte gefordert, für fälschung der tücher und waren eine strengliche handhabung verlangt und die stände gewarnt, gegen arglistige und erkaufte prokurei auf der hut zu sein, wodurch diese ordnung von den gesellschaften bekämpft werden kann. (n.b.--gemeint ist, nach einer notiz von andrer hand, bestechung der obrigkeiten, um durch ihren favor und patrocinium den folgen dieser ordnung zu entgehen.)_ appendix b. ten closely printed folio pages of sebastian franck's _chronica_ (published in ) are taken up with a seemingly exhaustive narrative of the incident referred to in the text; albeit franck himself tells us that it only represents a small portion--the "kernel," as he expresses it--of what he had prepared, and indeed actually written, on the subject, the bulk of which, however, the exigencies of space compelled him to suppress. "in the year ," says franck, "the two orders of the 'preachers' (dominicans) and 'barefooted friars' (franciscans) did wax hot against one another concerning the conception of mary. the 'barefooted' did hold that she was pure from all original sin and spotless; the 'preachers,' that she was conceived in original sin even as other children of men. now there was much debate thereon, and at heidelberg was there a disputation.... in the end came it to pass that the 'preachers' (dominicans) did devise to further their matter and opinion with false signs and wonders." a certain dominican preacher, wigandus by name, who had written a book against the immaculate conception, advised resort to trickery. the suggestion was adopted in a full chapter of the order held at wimpfen in . nürnberg and frankfort were thought of as suitable places, but on consideration were rejected on the ground that the townsfolk of these two commercial centres were too sharp-witted. eventually, bern was decided upon. accordingly, four dominicans, the prior, the sub-prior, the chief preacher and another monk, connected with a foundation possessed by the order at that place, were instructed to set about the business. they got hold of a young journeyman tailor, who applied to be received into the order, and whom they admitted with apparent reluctance on payment of fifty-three gulden, besides the gift of some damascene and silk. as soon as they had him well in hand, they began to test his credulity by playing practical jokes on him at night--by throwing things into his cell, making mysterious noises and the like, pretending that it was the work of a spirit. at last the prior came one night enveloped in a white linen sheet, and with horrible noises and gestures seized the trembling novice as he lay in his bed. the latter, of course, screamed and invoked the mother of god. upon this, the ghost adjured him, alleging that he and his colleagues could render him inestimable aid if they would but scourge themselves for eight days in succession, and read eight masses in the chapel of st. john. with this the spectre left him. the youth next day told everything in an agony of fear. the chief preacher of the order, dr. steffan, improved the occasion by an harangue against the franciscans, declaring that no distressed spirit ever held parley with such unmitigated scoundrels as they were, or sought the aid of such notorious evil-livers. finally, he succeeded in stirring up a strong feeling in the town against the rival order. the four conspiring monks having tested the silly youth, and finding him staunch in his belief, exhorted him to be of good courage the following night, the prior having purified his cell with holy water and guarded it with relics. but the spirit came again; and on being interrogated, in accordance with instructions given to the novice, the ghost declared itself the soul of a former prior of the monastery, who had been deposed for loose living, had left the cloister in lay attire, had become involved in a "bad business," and had been stabbed to death in a brawl unshrived. the spirit went on to extol the dominican order at the expense of the franciscans, who would shortly, it predicted, be the ruin of the town of bern. visions of a similar character occurred on the following nights. the preacher, dr. steffan, entrusted the novice with a letter containing leading questions favourable to the order which he was to endeavour to get delivered to the mother of god, and return with the answers affixed. the letter was subsequently found deposited miraculously in the pyx, and sprinkled with blood said to be of christ, and sealed with the same. the letter was the following day laid with great pomp on the high altar. the next night one of the four monks appeared to the novice, dressed as the virgin, with exuberant praises of the order, and with instructions to implore the holy man, pope julius ii., to institute a festival in honour of the "spotted conception" of the virgin, promising at the same time to convey to him a cross with three spots of the blood of her son upon it, as a testimony of the truth of her having been born in original sin. she gave him a cloth soaked in blood from the wound in the side, and other relics. she further pierced the guileless youth's hand with a pin, and made him call out, comforting him with the assurance that the wound would reopen afresh twice a year--on good friday and corpus christi day. thereupon the monk-virgin disappeared. all things had gone successfully up to this time, and the four monks now decided to officially announce the novice as an inspired person. to this end they succeeded--"by magical practices," says franck--in preparing a water which deprived the new brother of his senses, and another water which, while in this state, they rubbed into his hands and feet, producing wounds. with a third water they caused him to wake up--delighted to see the new miracles worked upon him. they then gave him a special room to himself, where the "faithful laity" might see him; but no one was allowed to speak to him, for fear of his compromising the order. meanwhile these things began to be noised abroad and were eagerly discussed, everybody wishing to get a sight of the new god. at length the long-suffering novice, on another visitation, recognised the voice of the prior in the sham virgin, and drawing a knife, stabbed him in the right hip, after which the prior, seizing a dish from the wall, flung it at the novice and decamped. no blandishments or warnings from the sub-prior or other monks would induce the now disillusionised novice to allow himself to be made a fool of any longer. finding this side of the business at an end, they next entreated him with promises not to ruin himself and them, but to throw in his lot with them and consent to hoodwink the people. he, at length, agreed with some reluctance. then they instructed him in the rôle he was to play. he was to represent an image of the virgin in the lady chapel, whilst dr. steffan was to be concealed behind a curtain, and, speaking through a tube, to personify her "divine son". the "son" asked the "mother" why she wept. the "mother" answered that she wept because her commands had not been carried out fully as yet. in the meantime some old women, who had been admitted into the chapel, rushed away spreading the report everywhere that the image of the virgin had wept and spoken. a large concourse assembled in the chapel, amongst them being the four monks, who affected great astonishment. presently the bürgermeister with three other high civic functionaries arrived, and demanded of the prior and monks what was the meaning of the great commotion. the prior replied that the virgin had wept for the approaching ruin of the whole town of bern, because it was receiving a pension from the french king, and because it tolerated in its midst the franciscans with their wicked heresy of the immaculate conception, whereby they imputed to her an honour that did not belong to her and which she repudiated. the elders of the city thought it a remarkable occurrence, and looked grave. the monks now thought to give the novice, the alleged intermediary of so many divine messages, a poisoned sacrament in the presence of the people, so that he might die suddenly, and that they might thus gain two points--be rid of a dangerous witness, and supply their order with a saint, whom christ had taken to himself during the reception of the holy elements. but our novice declined the wafer with the red spots, which was offered him, and which was alleged to be sprinkled with the blood of christ; and insisted on partaking of a less miraculous-looking one. nevertheless, the monks did not give up their project, for the novice overheard the next night a secret conclave of the four as to the best way of getting rid of him, whether they should starve him, drown him, strangle him, run him through the body, or choke him. he now began to feel seriously anxious, more especially as he found his rations diminishing daily. accordingly, one day he crept out of his cell and followed one of the four monks into the refectory, where he saw them eating capons and drinking wines with girls, who, to his intense disgust, he observed wore dresses made of the very damascene and silk he had contributed to the monastery on his initiation. his presence was detected, and dr. steffan tried to pass the girls off as sisters of his own. the monks thought, notwithstanding, that it was high time "to leave their damnable faces and begin". so they gave the novice cabbage stewed in a solution of crushed spiders, but this did him no harm. they then tried it on a cat, which died. the prior next brought him a poisoned soup, which he did not eat but threw away. five young wolves kept in the monastery thereupon ate it and died. then they tried the sacrament trick again, forcing it into his mouth, but he threw it up on to a footstool, which the worthy sebastian assures us immediately began to sweat blood. this alarmed the conspirators, and they changed their tactics, chaining the youth up, fettling him in various parts of the body with hot irons, until he swore a solemn oath not to divulge anything. at last, says sebastian, the matter "became too heavy for the brother," and he resolved to escape at once. he succeeded in doing so by cunning and stealth, and rushing into the town he informed everybody he met of all that had happened. the authorities, however, were unwilling to lay violent hands on a spiritual order. the monks, on their side, lost no time in sending their preacher and the sub-prior to rome, in order to get the pope's attestation of their story. they were supported by the whole influence of the dominican order throughout central europe. the rath of bern then also sent to rome to demand an impartial judge for the matter, and pope julius ii. nominated a commission consisting of three priests and a dominican provincial. the latter, being seen by one of the bishops admonishing dr. steffan how to act, was removed from the court, and died at constance from vexation. the four monks were then placed on the rack, and revealed everything. the poor novice was also given a few turns on the rack, in order to make sure that he had told all he knew. he rehearsed everything, including the story of the girls. it came out in the course of the trial that jews' blood, nineteen hairs from the black eyebrow of a jew child, and other ingredients, which our modest sebastian informs us "it were not seemly to tell of," went to constitute the magical decoction that the monks had used in order to make the novice subservient to them. it was found also that the sub-prior had stolen five hundred gulden from the monastic chest, and that the other monks had taken the precious stones from the image of the virgin and disposed of them, also that the prior had boasted that he could work his will with any woman on whom he laid his hand. the bishops wanted to transfer the matter to rome, but the lay authorities would not hear of this, and insisted on the court being reinforced by eight honourable councillors of the city. in the end the ecclesiastics consented to reconstitute the court in this form. the result was a sentence of degradation and burning alive on all four monks. the execution was carried out in the presence of a large concourse of people in the great market-place of the city of bern, on the st of may, . as intimated in the body of this work, the foregoing affair caused a profound impression over a wide area, affecting as it did the honour and integrity of so powerful an order as that of the "preachers" or dominicans, and it made the city and canton of bern an easy prey to the reforming tendencies which came in vogue a few years later. * * * * * the following is another illustration of the ready credulity of a mediæval populace and the excessive excitability of the public mind in the earlier years of the sixteenth century. i quote, this time literally, from another portion of sebastian franck's _chronica_: "anno , dr. balthasar hubmeyer [at this time hubmeyer was still a catholic] did preach with vehemence against the jews at regensburg, showing how great an evil doth arise to the whole german nation, not alone from their faith, but also from their usury, and how unspeakable a tribute their usury doth bear away withal. then was there a council held that they should pray the emperor to the end that jews might be driven forth. therefore did they [the people] break their synagogue in pieces, also many of their houses, and did build in the place thereof a temple in honour of mary, to which they gave the name of the fair mary. this did some visit privily, and told that from that hour was their prayer fulfilled. so soon, therefore, as the matter became noised abroad, even then was there a running from all parts thither, as though the people were bewitched, of wife, of child, of gentlemen, some spiritual, some worldly, they coming so long a way, it might be having eaten nothing. certain children who knew not the road did come from afar with a piece of bread, and the people came with so manifold an armoury, even such as it chanced that each had, the while he was at his work, the one with a milking-pail, the other with a hay-fork. some there were that had scarce aught on in the greatest cold, wherewithal to cover them in barest need. some there were that did run many miles without speaking, as they might be half-possessed or witless; some did come barefoot with rakes, axes and sickles; these had fled from the fields and forsaken their lords; some caméd in a shirt they had by chance laid hands on as they arose from their bed; some did come at midnight; some there were that ran day and night; and there was in all such a running from all lands that, in the space of but one day, many thousands of men had come in. "one there was that saw miracles from so much and so divers silver, gold, wax, pictures and jewels that were brought thither. there were daily so many masses read that one priest could scarce but meet the other, as he departed from the altar. when one did read the communion [commun], the other even then did kneel before the altar with his confiteor. these things came to pass daily till well-nigh beyond noon, and although many altars were set up both within and without the temple, yet nevertheless could not one priest but encounter the other. "the learned did sing many carmina in praise of fair mary, and many and divers offices were devised of signs, of pipes and of organs. much sick folk did they lead and bear thither, and also, as some do believe, dead men whom they brought home again restored and living. there befel also many great signs and wonders, the which it would not be fitting to tell of, and whereof an especial cheat was rumoured, in that what any brought thither, did he but vow himself with his offering, straightway was he healed, not alone from his sicknesses, but the living did receive also their dead again, the blind saw, the halt ran, did leave their crutches in the temple, and walkéd upright from thence. some ran thither from the war; yea, wives from their husbands, children from the obedience and will of their fathers would thither, saying that they might not remain away, and that they had no rest day nor night. "some as they entered into the temple and beheld the image straightway fell down as though the thunder had smote them. as the mad rabble beheld how such did fall, they bethought them that it were the power of god, and that each must needs fall in this place. thus there came to pass such a falling (such as was a foolishness and unrestrained and of the devil's likeness) that well-nigh each that came to these places did fall, and many from the rabble, who did not fall, believed themselves to be unholy and did enforce themselves straightway to fall, till the council [rath] was moved, as they say, to forbid such, and then did the signs and fallings cease. "it is wondrous to relate with what strange instruments the people caméd thither; as one was seized in the midst of his labour, he took not the time to lay aside that which he held in his hand but bore it with him, and each ran unshrived away, being driven by his own spirit. but whether the great holy spirit did move to such ill-considered tumult against obedience, did drive the mother from the child, the wife from the husband, the servant and the child contrary to the obedience to be rendered to the master and the father, i will leave to others to determine. many do even believe as i do, that it cannot be the work of god inasmuch as it is contrary to his word, work, manner, nature and the interpretation of the scriptures. "now this running toward hath held a goodly season, as it may be six or eight years, but hath now ceased, albeit not wholly." * * * * * i have reproduced as literally as possible from franck's own language, not (as will have been noticed) omitting or toning down the repetitions and incoherences of style. appendix c. the celebrated family of fugger of augsburg migrated to that city about the year from a village near schwabmünchen. what their precise status was in their original home is not very clear; but they would seem to have been above the rank of ordinary peasants, and it is just possible that they may have been _freier_ or freeholders of land without nobility. at all events, they are said to have cultivated flax and hemp somewhat extensively. the two brothers, ulrich and johannes fugger, on arriving in augsburg, devoted themselves to weaving of wool and linen, and became master-weavers, possessing several looms. through marriage they soon acquired the citizenship, and the family continued to rise and flourish during the fifteenth century. some time before , a fugger became grand master of the weavers' guild, and towards the close of that century ulrich fugger was one of the first to take advantage of the rising world-market and of the dislocated feudal conditions of the time. in , he had to settle the financial affairs of maximilian, who wished to lend money to charles the bold. for his services on this occasion he and his brothers were ennobled, and received a "lily" as their armorial device. ulrich was also a patron of albrecht dürer, and it was through him that dürer's pictures were sent into italy. ulrich fugger bought from pope alexander vi. the patronage of a canonry near st. moritz for a thousand ducats. in he and his brother inaugurated the trade syndicates spoken of in the preceding pages by a company for trading in spices. it is referred to in the reichstag rescript given in appendix a. ulrich died in , leaving seven daughters and three sons; his brother had already died in . they had bought up all the houses on the weinmarkt, and converted them into a palace, in which they lived conjointly. jacob fugger, a younger son of ulrich, raised the family to the zenith of its opulence and magnificence. originally brought up for the church, he became a canon; but later, on the wish of his father, he renounced the tonsure and devoted himself to commerce. he first went to reside in venice, in order to get mercantile training in the family warehouse which the fuggers had established in that city. venice was then, and for long afterwards, a kind of training school for the merchants of the south german cities. jacob also made further journeys to the principal commercial towns of europe, the result of his studies and travels being the expansion of his family business to a degree previously unheard of in the annals of mediæval trading. to such a point did he carry his success that soon his wool, silk and spinning business generally, became a mere subordinate matter with him, his chief occupations being mining and banking. jacob fugger was, in fact, the first great european capitalist, the rothschild and vanderbilt of his day. in spain, in the tyrol, in hungary and in carinthia, he bought up lands rich in ore from derelict and impecunious nobles, and succeeded in opening up valuable silver, copper and lead mines. paracelsus mentions having visited the fugger mines at schwatz in the tyrol in connection with his alchemistic studies. the new route to india afforded by the discovery of the cape passage gave fugger the opportunity of showing his ability to seize a timely advantage from changing conditions. in , he joined with the two other large commercial houses, those of welser and hochstetten, in an undertaking for shipping three cargoes of indian wares. this class of goods had hitherto come over land by way of the levant and venice; but now, for the first time, they were shipped direct from the east indies by the new cape route. the previous year, , jacob and his brothers had been ennobled by the emperor maximilian, jacob himself being made imperial councillor. leo x. further constituted him count palatine and _eques aureatus_. in , jacob advanced maximilian as much as , ducats as a subsidy towards the cost of the italian war. subsequently, on the election of charles v. to the imperial dignity, he contributed , ducats to the expenses involved. on one occasion, when he entertained charles v. as a guest in his palace on the weinmarkt in augsburg, he burnt the overdue "acceptances" of the emperor on a large fire of cinnamon, at that time one of the most costly spices. the fuggers acquired in the shape of fallen-in mortgages several feudal territories, comprising numerous villages. in fact, by their financial operations alone, apart from their enormous mercantile transactions, the family amassed an immense fortune. jacob enlarged the great fugger palace already referred to, and added a sumptuous choir to the augsburg church of st. anna. he also founded the "fuggerei," an entire quarter of augsburg still extant, to be used as almshouses for poor citizens. he died in , leaving as his heirs his two nephews raimond and anton. residing together in the fugger palace, they still further added to the renown of their family by their patronage of the new learning and the fine arts. they took a distinguished place as patricians in the rath of their native city, and they were raised by charles v. into the ranks of the higher nobility as hereditary counts of the empire, being also granted lands with hereditary jurisdiction. by their operations in finance, they still further increased the territorial acquisitions of their family. all contemporary writers descant on the pomp and magnificence of the fugger establishment. the family continued to flourish up to the thirty years' war, in which they played a considerable part on the imperial catholic side. the history of the fuggers, of their enrichment by gigantic mercantile operations on the basis of the world-market, of the new developments they gave to the time-old practice of money lending, and of the fresh energy and improved methods employed in their mining enterprises, affords a typical instance of the birth and rapid growth of the new constructive principle of capitalism--a birth and growth taking place _pari passu_ with the destructive processes of the disintegration of feudalism. * * * * * * transcriber's note: the original book contained one unpaired double quotation mark. it was not clear where the missing quotation mark belonged, so no attempt was made to add it. disputation of doctor martin luther on the power and efficacy of indulgences by dr. martin luther, published in: works of martin luther adolph spaeth, l.d. reed, henry eyster jacobs, et al., trans. & eds. (philadelphia: a. j. holman company, ), vol. , pp. - . disputation of doctor martin luther on the power and efficacy of indulgences october , out of love for the truth and the desire to bring it to light, the following propositions will be discussed at wittenberg, under the presidency of the reverend father martin luther, master of arts and of sacred theology, and lecturer in ordinary on the same at that place. wherefore he requests that those who are unable to be present and debate orally with us, may do so by letter. in the name our lord jesus christ. amen. . our lord and master jesus christ, when he said poenitentiam agite, willed that the whole life of believers should be repentance. . this word cannot be understood to mean sacramental penance, i.e., confession and satisfaction, which is administered by the priests. . yet it means not inward repentance only; nay, there is no inward repentance which does not outwardly work divers mortifications of the flesh. . the penalty [of sin], therefore, continues so long as hatred of self continues; for this is the true inward repentance, and continues until our entrance into the kingdom of heaven. . the pope does not intend to remit, and cannot remit any penalties other than those which he has imposed either by his own authority or by that of the canons. . the pope cannot remit any guilt, except by declaring that it has been remitted by god and by assenting to god's remission; though, to be sure, he may grant remission in cases reserved to his judgment. if his right to grant remission in such cases were despised, the guilt would remain entirely unforgiven. . god remits guilt to no one whom he does not, at the same time, humble in all things and bring into subjection to his vicar, the priest. . the penitential canons are imposed only on the living, and, according to them, nothing should be imposed on the dying. . therefore the holy spirit in the pope is kind to us, because in his decrees he always makes exception of the article of death and of necessity. . ignorant and wicked are the doings of those priests who, in the case of the dying, reserve canonical penances for purgatory. . this changing of the canonical penalty to the penalty of purgatory is quite evidently one of the tares that were sown while the bishops slept. . in former times the canonical penalties were imposed not after, but before absolution, as tests of true contrition. . the dying are freed by death from all penalties; they are already dead to canonical rules, and have a right to be released from them. . the imperfect health [of soul], that is to say, the imperfect love, of the dying brings with it, of necessity, great fear; and the smaller the love, the greater is the fear. . this fear and horror is sufficient of itself alone (to say nothing of other things) to constitute the penalty of purgatory, since it is very near to the horror of despair. . hell, purgatory, and heaven seem to differ as do despair, almost-despair, and the assurance of safety. . with souls in purgatory it seems necessary that horror should grow less and love increase. . it seems unproved, either by reason or scripture, that they are outside the state of merit, that is to say, of increasing love. . again, it seems unproved that they, or at least that all of them, are certain or assured of their own blessedness, though we may be quite certain of it. . therefore by "full remission of all penalties" the pope means not actually "of all," but only of those imposed by himself. . therefore those preachers of indulgences are in error, who say that by the pope's indulgences a man is freed from every penalty, and saved; . whereas he remits to souls in purgatory no penalty which, according to the canons, they would have had to pay in this life. . if it is at all possible to grant to any one the remission of all penalties whatsoever, it is certain that this remission can be granted only to the most perfect, that is, to the very fewest. . it must needs be, therefore, that the greater part of the people are deceived by that indiscriminate and highsounding promise of release from penalty. . the power which the pope has, in a general way, over purgatory, is just like the power which any bishop or curate has, in a special way, within his own diocese or parish. . the pope does well when he grants remission to souls [in purgatory], not by the power of the keys (which he does not possess), but by way of intercession. . they preach man who say that so soon as the penny jingles into the money-box, the soul flies out [of purgatory]. . it is certain that when the penny jingles into the money-box, gain and avarice can be increased, but the result of the intercession of the church is in the power of god alone. . who knows whether all the souls in purgatory wish to be bought out of it, as in the legend of sts. severinus and paschal. . no one is sure that his own contrition is sincere; much less that he has attained full remission. . rare as is the man that is truly penitent, so rare is also the man who truly buys indulgences, i.e., such men are most rare. . they will be condemned eternally, together with their teachers, who believe themselves sure of their salvation because they have letters of pardon. . men must be on their guard against those who say that the pope's pardons are that inestimable gift of god by which man is reconciled to him; . for these "graces of pardon" concern only the penalties of sacramental satisfaction, and these are appointed by man. . they preach no christian doctrine who teach that contrition is not necessary in those who intend to buy souls out of purgatory or to buy confessionalia. . every truly repentant christian has a right to full remission of penalty and guilt, even without letters of pardon. . every true christian, whether living or dead, has part in all the blessings of christ and the church; and this is granted him by god, even without letters of pardon. . nevertheless, the remission and participation [in the blessings of the church] which are granted by the pope are in no way to be despised, for they are, as i have said, the declaration of divine remission. . it is most difficult, even for the very keenest theologians, at one and the same time to commend to the people the abundance of pardons and [the need of] true contrition. . true contrition seeks and loves penalties, but liberal pardons only relax penalties and cause them to be hated, or at least, furnish an occasion [for hating them]. . apostolic pardons are to be preached with caution, lest the people may falsely think them preferable to other good works of love. . christians are to be taught that the pope does not intend the buying of pardons to be compared in any way to works of mercy. . christians are to be taught that he who gives to the poor or lends to the needy does a better work than buying pardons; . because love grows by works of love, and man becomes better; but by pardons man does not grow better, only more free from penalty. . christians are to be taught that he who sees a man in need, and passes him by, and gives [his money] for pardons, purchases not the indulgences of the pope, but the indignation of god. . christians are to be taught that unless they have more than they need, they are bound to keep back what is necessary for their own families, and by no means to squander it on pardons. . christians are to be taught that the buying of pardons is a matter of free will, and not of commandment. . christians are to be taught that the pope, in granting pardons, needs, and therefore desires, their devout prayer for him more than the money they bring. . christians are to be taught that the pope's pardons are useful, if they do not put their trust in them; but altogether harmful, if through them they lose their fear of god. . christians are to be taught that if the pope knew the exactions of the pardon-preachers, he would rather that st. peter's church should go to ashes, than that it should be built up with the skin, flesh and bones of his sheep. . christians are to be taught that it would be the pope's wish, as it is his duty, to give of his own money to very many of those from whom certain hawkers of pardons cajole money, even though the church of st. peter might have to be sold. . the assurance of salvation by letters of pardon is vain, even though the commissary, nay, even though the pope himself, were to stake his soul upon it. . they are enemies of christ and of the pope, who bid the word of god be altogether silent in some churches, in order that pardons may be preached in others. . injury is done the word of god when, in the same sermon, an equal or a longer time is spent on pardons than on this word. . it must be the intention of the pope that if pardons, which are a very small thing, are celebrated with one bell, with single processions and ceremonies, then the gospel, which is the very greatest thing, should be preached with a hundred bells, a hundred processions, a hundred ceremonies. . the "treasures of the church," out of which the pope grants indulgences, are not sufficiently named or known among the people of christ. . that they are not temporal treasures is certainly evident, for many of the vendors do not pour out such treasures so easily, but only gather them. . nor are they the merits of christ and the saints, for even without the pope, these always work grace for the inner man, and the cross, death, and hell for the outward man. . st. lawrence said that the treasures of the church were the church's poor, but he spoke according to the usage of the word in his own time. . without rashness we say that the keys of the church, given by christ's merit, are that treasure; . for it is clear that for the remission of penalties and of reserved cases, the power of the pope is of itself sufficient. . the true treasure of the church is the most holy gospel of the glory and the grace of god. . but this treasure is naturally most odious, for it makes the first to be last. . on the other hand, the treasure of indulgences is naturally most acceptable, for it makes the last to be first. . therefore the treasures of the gospel are nets with which they formerly were wont to fish for men of riches. . the treasures of the indulgences are nets with which they now fish for the riches of men. . the indulgences which the preachers cry as the "greatest graces" are known to be truly such, in so far as they promote gain. . yet they are in truth the very smallest graces compared with the grace of god and the piety of the cross. . bishops and curates are bound to admit the commissaries of apostolic pardons, with all reverence. . but still more are they bound to strain all their eyes and attend with all their ears, lest these men preach their own dreams instead of the commission of the pope. . he who speaks against the truth of apostolic pardons, let him be anathema and accursed! . but he who guards against the lust and license of the pardon-preachers, let him be blessed! . the pope justly thunders against those who, by any art, contrive the injury of the traffic in pardons. . but much more does he intend to thunder against those who use the pretext of pardons to contrive the injury of holy love and truth. . to think the papal pardons so great that they could absolve a man even if he had committed an impossible sin and violated the mother of god--this is madness. . we say, on the contrary, that the papal pardons are not able to remove the very least of venial sins, so far as its guilt is concerned. . it is said that even st. peter, if he were now pope, could not bestow greater graces; this is blasphemy against st. peter and against the pope. . we say, on the contrary, that even the present pope, and any pope at all, has greater graces at his disposal; to wit, the gospel, powers, gifts of healing, etc., as it is written in i. corinthians xii. . to say that the cross, emblazoned with the papal arms, which is set up [by the preachers of indulgences], is of equal worth with the cross of christ, is blasphemy. . the bishops, curates and theologians who allow such talk to be spread among the people, will have an account to render. . this unbridled preaching of pardons makes it no easy matter, even for learned men, to rescue the reverence due to the pope from slander, or even from the shrewd questionings of the laity. . to wit:--"why does not the pope empty purgatory, for the sake of holy love and of the dire need of the souls that are there, if he redeems an infinite number of souls for the sake of miserable money with which to build a church? the former reasons would be most just; the latter is most trivial." . again:--"why are mortuary and anniversary masses for the dead continued, and why does he not return or permit the withdrawal of the endowments founded on their behalf, since it is wrong to pray for the redeemed?" . again:--"what is this new piety of god and the pope, that for money they allow a man who is impious and their enemy to buy out of purgatory the pious soul of a friend of god, and do not rather, because of that pious and beloved soul's own need, free it for pure love's sake?" . again:--"why are the penitential canons long since in actual fact and through disuse abrogated and dead, now satisfied by the granting of indulgences, as though they were still alive and in force?" . again:--"why does not the pope, whose wealth is to-day greater than the riches of the richest, build just this one church of st. peter with his own money, rather than with the money of poor believers?" . again:--"what is it that the pope remits, and what participation does he grant to those who, by perfect contrition, have a right to full remission and participation?" . again:--"what greater blessing could come to the church than if the pope were to do a hundred times a day what he now does once, and bestow on every believer these remissions and participations?" . "since the pope, by his pardons, seeks the salvation of souls rather than money, why does he suspend the indulgences and pardons granted heretofore, since these have equal efficacy?" . to repress these arguments and scruples of the laity by force alone, and not to resolve them by giving reasons, is to expose the church and the pope to the ridicule of their enemies, and to make christians unhappy. . if, therefore, pardons were preached according to the spirit and mind of the pope, all these doubts would be readily resolved; nay, they would not exist. . away, then, with all those prophets who say to the people of christ, "peace, peace," and there is no peace! . blessed be all those prophets who say to the people of christ, "cross, cross," and there is no cross! . christians are to be exhorted that they be diligent in following christ, their head, through penalties, deaths, and hell; . and thus be confident of entering into heaven rather through many tribulations, than through the assurance of peace. ====================================================================== this text was converted to ascii format for project wittenberg by allen mulvey and is in the public domain. you may freely distribute, copy or print this text. please direct any comments or suggestions to: rev. robert e. smith of the walther library at concordia theological seminary. e-mail: cfwlibrary@crf.cuis.edu surface mail: n. clinton st., ft. wayne, in usa phone: ( ) - fax: ( ) - ====================================================================== "disputatio pro declaratione virtutis indulgentiarum." by dr. martin luther, - d. martin luthers werke: kritische gesammtausgabe. . band (weimar: hermann boehlau, ). pp. - . pw # - la ====================================================================== this text was converted to ascii format for project wittenberg by rev. robert e. smith and is in the public domain. you may freely distribute, copy or print this text. please direct any comments or suggestions to: rev. robert e. smith of the walther library at concordia theological seminary. e-mail: cfwlibrary@crf.cuis.edu surface mail: n. clinton st., ft. wayne, in usa phone: ( ) - fax: ( ) - ====================================================================== amore et studio elucidande veritatis hec subscripta disputabuntur wittenberge, presidente r. p. martino lutther, artium et s. theologie magistro eiusdemque ibidem lectore ordinario. quare petit, ut qui non possunt verbis presentes nobiscum disceptare agant id literis absentes. in nomine domini nostri hiesu christi. amen. . dominus et magister noster iesus christus dicendo 'penitentiam agite &c.' omnem vitam fidelium penitentiam esse voluit. . quod verbum de penitentia sacramentali (id est confessionis et satisfactionis, que sacerdotum ministerio celebratur) non potest intelligi. . non tamen solam intendit interiorem, immo interior nulla est, nisi foris operetur varias carnis mortificationes. . manet itaque pena, donec manet odium sui (id est penitentia vera intus), scilicet usque ad introitum regni celorum. . papa non vult nec potest ullas penas remittere preter eas, quas arbitrio vel suo vel canonum imposuit. . papa non potest remittere ullam culpam nisi declarando, et approbando remissam a deo aut certe remittendo casus reservatos sibi, quibus contemptis culpa prorsus remaneret. . nulli prorus remittit deus culpam, quin simul eum subiiciat humiliatum in omnibus sacerdoti suo vicario. . canones penitentiales solum viventibus sunt impositi nihilque morituris secundum eosdem debet imponi. . inde bene nobis facit spiritussanctus in papa excipiendo in suis decretis semper articulum mortis et necessitatis. . indocte et male faciunt sacerdotes ii, qui morituris penitentias canonicas in purgatorium reservant. . zizania illa de mutanda pena canonica in penam purgatorii videntur certe dormientibus episcopis seminata. . olim pene canonice non post, sed ante absolutionem imponebantur tanquam tentamenta vere contritionis. . morituri per mortem omnia solvunt et legibus canonum mortui iam sunt, habentes iure earum relaxationem. . imperfecta sanitas seu charitas morituri necessario secum fert magnum timorem, tantoque maiorem, quanto minor fuerit ipsa. . hic timor et horror satis est se solo (ut alia taceam) facere penam purgatorii, cum sit proximus desperationis horrori. . videntur infernus, purgaturium, celum differre, sicut desperatio, prope desperatio, securitas differunt. . necessarium videtur animabus in purgatorio sicut minni horrorem ita augeri charitatem. . nec probatum videtur ullis aut rationibus aut scripturis, quod sint extra statum meriti seu augende charitatis. . nec hoc probatum esse videtur, quod sint de sua beatitudine certe et secure, saltem omnes, licet nos certissimi simus. . igitur papa per remissionem plenariam omnium penarum non simpliciter omnium intelligit, sed a seipso tantummodo impositarum. . errant itaque indulgentiarum predicatores ii, qui dicunt per pape indulgentias hominem ab omni pena solvi et salvari. . quin nullam remittit animabus in purgatorio, quam in hac vita debuissent secundum canones solvere. . si remissio ulla omnium omnino penarum potest alicui dari, certum est eam non nisi perfectissimis, i.e. paucissimis, dari. . falli ob id necesse est maiorem partem populi per indifferentem illam et magnificam pene solute promissionem. . qualem potestatem habet papa in purgatorium generaliter, talem habet quilibet episcopus et curatus in sua diocesi et parochia specialiter. . [ ] optime facit papa, quod non potestate clavis (quam nullam habet) sed per modum suffragii dat animabus remissionem. . [ ] hominem predicant, qui statim ut iactus nummus in cistam tinnierit evolare dicunt animam. . [ ] certum est, nummo in cistam tinniente augeri questum et avariciam posse: suffragium autem ecclesie est in arbitrio dei solius. . [ ] quis scit, si omnes anime in purgatorio velint redimi, sicut de s. severino et paschali factum narratur. . [ ] nullus securus est de veritate sue contritionis, multominus de consecutione plenarie remissionis. . [ ] quam rarus est vere penitens, tam rarus est vere indulgentias redimens, i. e. rarissimus. . [ ] damnabuntur ineternum cum suis magistris, qui per literas veniarum securos sese credunt de sua salute. . [ ] cavendi sunt nimis, qui dicunt venias illas pape donum esse illud dei inestimabile, quo reconciliatur homo deo. . [ ] gratie enim ille veniales tantum respiciunt penas satisfactionis sacramentalis ab homine constitutas. . [ ] non christiana predicant, qui docent, quod redempturis animas vel confessionalia non sit necessaria contritio. . [ ] quilibet christianus vere compunctus habet remissionem plenariam a pena et culpa etiam sine literis veniarum sibi debitam. . [ ] quilibet versus christianus, sive vivus sive mortuus, habet participationem omnium bonorum christi et ecclesie etiam sine literis veniarum a deo sibi datam. . [ ] remissio tamen et participatio pape nullo modo est contemnenda, quia (ut dixi) est declaratio remissionis divine. . [ ] difficillimum est etiam doctissimis theologis simul extollere veniarum largitatem et contritionis veritatem coram populo. . [ ] contritionis veritas penas querit et amat, veniarum autem largitas relaxat et odisse facit, saltem occasione. . [ ] caute sunt venie apostolice predicande, ne populus false intelligat eas preferri ceteris bonis operibus charitatis. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod pape mens non est, redemptionem veniarum ulla ex parte comparandam esse operibus misericordie. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod dans pauperi aut mutuans egenti melius facit quam si venias redimereet. . [ ] quia per opus charitatis crescit charitas et fit homo melior, sed per venias non fit melior sed tantummodo a pena liberior. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod, qui videt egenum et neglecto eo dat pro veniis, non idulgentias pape sed indignationem dei sibi vendicat. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod nisi superfluis abundent necessaria tenentur domui sue retinere et nequaquam propter venias effundere. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod redemptio veniarum est libera, non precepta. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod papa sicut magis eget ita magis optat in veniis dandis pro se devotam orationem quam promptam pecuniam. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod venie pape sunt utiles, si non in cas confidant, sed nocentissime, si timorem dei per eas amittant. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod si papa nosset exactiones venialium predicatorum, mallet basilicam s. petri in cineres ire quam edificari cute, carne et ossibus ovium suarum. . [ ] docendi sunt christiani, quod papa sicut debet ita vellet, etiam vendita (si opus sit) basilicam s. petri, de suis pecuniis dare illis, a quorum plurimis quidam concionatores veniarum pecuniam eliciunt. . [ ] vana est fiducia salutis per literas veniarum, etiam si commissarius, immo papa ipse suam animam pro illis impigneraret. . [ ] hostes christi et pape sunt ii, qui propter venias predicandas verbum dei in aliis ecclesiis penitus silere iubent. . [ ] iniuria fit verbo dei, dum in eodem sermone equale vel longius tempus impenditur veniis quam illi. . [ ] mens pape necessario est, quod, si venie (quod minimum est) una campana, unis pompis et ceremoniis celebrantur, euangelium (quod maximum est) centum campanis, centum pompis, centum ceremoniis predicetur. . [ ] thesauri ecclesie, unde pape dat indulgentias, neque satis nominati sunt neque cogniti apud populum christi. . [ ] temporales certe non esse patet, quod non tam facile eos profundunt, sed tantummodo colligunt multi concionatorum. . [ ] nec sunt merita christi et sanctorum, quia hec semper sine papa operantur gratiam hominis interioris et crucem, mortem infernumque exterioris. . [ ] thesauros ecclesie s. laurentius dixit esse pauperes ecclesie, sed locutus est usu vocabuli suo tempore. . [ ] sine temeritate dicimus claves ecclesie (merito christi donatas) esse thesaurum istum. . [ ] clarum est enim, quod ad remissionem penarum et casuum sola sufficit potestas pape. . [ ] verus thesaurus ecclesie est sacrosanctum euangelium glorie et gratie dei. . [ ] hic autem est merito odiosissimus, quia ex primis facit novissimos. . [ ] thesaurus autem indulgentiarum merito est gratissimus, quia ex novissimis facit primos. . [ ] igitur thesauri euangelici rhetia sunt, quibus olim piscabantur viros divitiarum. . [ ] thesauri indulgentiarum rhetia sunt, quibus nunc piscantur divitias virorum. . [ ] indulgentie, quas concionatores vociferantur maximas gratias, intelliguntur vere tales quoad questum promovendum. . [ ] sunt tamen re vera minime ad gratiam dei et crucis pietatem comparate. . [ ] tenentur episcopi et curati veniarum apostolicarum commissarios cum omni reverentia admittere. . [ ] sed magis tenentur omnibus oculis intendere, omnibus auribus advertere, ne pro commissione pape sua illi somnia predicent. . [ ] contra veniarum apostolicarum veritatem qui loquitur, sit ille anathema et maledictus. . [ ] qui vero, contra libidinem ac licentiam verborum concionatoris veniarum curam agit, sit ille benedictus. . [ ] sicut papa iuste fulminat eos, qui in fraudem negocii veniarum quacunque arte machinantur, . [ ] multomagnis fulminare intendit eos, qui per veniarum pretextum in fraudem sancte charitatis et veritatis machinantur, . [ ] opinari venias papales tantas esse, ut solvere possint hominem, etiam si quis per impossibile dei genitricem violasset, est insanire. . [ ] dicimus contra, quod venie papales nec minimum venialium peccatorum tollere possint quo ad culpam. . [ ] quod dicitur, nec si s. petrus modo papa esset maiores gratias donare posset, est blasphemia in sanctum petrum et papam. . [ ] dicimus contra, quod etiam iste et quilibet papa maiores habet, scilicet euangelium, virtutes, gratias, curationum &c. ut . co. xii. . [ ] dicere, crucem armis papalibus insigniter erectam cruci christi equivalere, blasphemia est. . [ ] rationem reddent episcopi, curati et theologi, qui tales sermones in populum licere sinunt. . [ ] facit hec licentiosa veniarum predicatio, ut nec reverentiam pape facile sit etiam doctis viris redimere a calumniis aut certe argutis questionibus laicorm. . [ ] scilicet. cur papa non evacuat purgatorium propter sanctissimam charitatem et summam animarum necessitatem ut causam omnium iustissimam, si infinitas animas redimit propter pecuniam funestissimam ad structuram basilice ut causam levissimam? . [ ] item. cur permanent exequie et anniversaria defunctorum et non reddit aut recipi permittit beneficia pro illis instituta, cum iam sit iniuria pro redemptis orare? . [ ] item. que illa nova pietas dei et pape, quod impio et inimico propter pecuniam concedunt animam piam et amicam dei redimere, et tamen propter necessitatem ipsius met pie et dilecte anime non redimunt eam gratuita charitate? . [ ] item. cur canones penitentiales re ipsa et non usu iam diu in semet abrogati et mortui adhuc tamen pecuniis redimuntur per concessionem indulgentiarum tanquam vivacissimi? . [ ] item. cur papa, cuius opes hodie sunt opulentissimis crassis crassiores, non de suis pecuniis magis quam pauperum fidelium struit unam tantummodo basilicam sancti petri? . [ ] item. quid remittit aut participat papa iis, qui per contritionem perfectam ius habent plenarie remissionis et participationis? . [ ] item. quid adderetur ecclesie boni maioris, si papa, sicut semel facit, ita centies in die cuilibet fidelium has remissiones et participationes tribueret? . [ ] ex quo papa salutem querit animarum per venias magis quam pecunias, cur suspendit literas et venias iam olim concessas, cum sint eque efficaces? . [ ] hec scrupulosissima laicorum argumenta sola potestate compescere nec reddita ratione diluere, est ecclesiam et papam hostibus ridendos exponere et infelices christianos facere. . [ ] si ergo venie secundum spiritum et mentem pape predicarentur, facile illa omnia solverentur, immo non essent. . [ ] valeant itaque omnes illi prophete, qui dicunt populo christi 'pax pax,' et non est pax. . [ ] bene agant omnes illi prophete, qui dicunt populo christi 'crux crux,' et non est crux. . [ ] exhortandi sunt christiani, ut caput suum christum per penas, mortes infernosque sequi studeant, . [ ] ac sic magis per multas tribulationes intrare celum quam per securitatem pacis confidant. m.d.xvii.